LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 ©N 1 ©qpjrigjjl j$a. 
 
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 UNITED STATES OF AMERIjCA. 
 
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DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 
 BY 
 
 ZENAS J. GRAY. 
 
 HARRJSBURG. PA.: 
 
 PATRIOT PUBLISHING COMPANY. 
 
 1884. 
 

 Entered, according to A.d of Congress, in the year 1884, by 
 
 ZENAS J. GRAY, 
 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, I). C 
 
TO THOSE 
 
 WHOSE KINDNESS AND ENCOURAGEMENT INDUCED 
 ME TO VENTURE, 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 
 IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 
 
 The author. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Ye Thoughts, go back 9 
 
 Helen . . % 10 
 
 June 12 
 
 In Memoriam 13 
 
 New Year Song lo 
 
 My Doves 16 
 
 North and South 17 
 
 Semper Fidelis 1H 
 
 At The Grave of Poe 19 
 
 To a Chestnut Tree 20 
 
 Fair Cumberland 21 
 
 The Old Year 24 
 
 Fort McHenry 26 
 
 Be Calm. Oh Heart be Calm 27 
 
 Jennie Wade 28 
 
 I Learned that Thou wert Dead 29 
 
 After Harvest 30 
 
 The Unknown Dead §2 
 
 ( hn Face I Cannot See 33 
 
 To Lena 34 
 
 A Winter Night 35 
 
 My Mother , . . . . > , . . . ? „..,.„., 37 
 
vi CONTENTS. 
 
 Thirteen Years 38 
 
 When the Moon Shines Over the Water 40 
 
 The Old Mill 41 
 
 One Embrace and Then We Sever 42 
 
 The Clatter of the Bars 43 
 
 Forsaken 44 
 
 The Swallows 45 
 
 To " Lib " 40 
 
 Farewell Dear Country 48 
 
 The Happy ( ttd Farmer 49 
 
 Bayard Taylor 50 
 
 Fill Up the Bright Wine 52 
 
 Confession 53 
 
 Spring 54 
 
 K enunciation 55 
 
 Evening 56 
 
 To Lottie 58 
 
 An Autograph 58 
 
 To Alice 59 
 
 Think, Sweet, of Me 00 
 
 Song 61 
 
 At Last : 62 
 
 Bright-eyed Girls of Long Ago 63 
 
 November ...... 64 
 
 Beautiful Waters 65 
 
 Lines to M— 66 
 
 To Irene 67 
 
 If I Could Look 68 
 
 My Belief 0<» 
 
 Sing to Me, Love 71 
 
 Winter 71' 
 
 Haying 73 
 
 What The Bells Say 75 
 
 SjtoeykftBfor 70 
 
Lines 78 
 
 The Rain 79 
 
 A Greeting 80 
 
 All for Thee 83 
 
 At The Mayor's Office 83 
 
 Up The Delaware 85 
 
DRIFTWOOD. ' 
 
 YE THOLGHTS, GO BACK TO THAT SWEET 
 TIME. 
 
 SQf-E thoughts, go back to that sweet time 
 -* When I with good friends met together. 
 When past the hours till midnight's chime. 
 
 And gave no heed to wintry weather; 
 When jolly laugh rang round the room 
 
 And smiles defied a sad expression: 
 When joy pursued the flying gloom 
 
 And took, of all our hearts, possession. 
 
 Those jovial friends! Where are they now? 
 
 Are they upon the stream still floating? 
 Or do they sleep far, far below 
 
 While angry waves roll o'er them gloating f 
 Have years, now past, been bright and golden 
 
 Each life-time fraught with gayest pleasures ? 
 Or do they sigh for days of olden 
 
 And think they were life's only treasures ? 
 (9) 
 
10 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 O memory bear me on thy wings 
 
 Through mists that veil the years departed, 
 To breathe again the airs of springs 
 
 And summers and not feel faint-hearted; 
 Life is so short: to some 'tis sweet. 
 
 But ah. the most shares well with sorrow: 
 It comes, unasked with stealthy feet. 
 
 And clouds the sun that dawns to-morrow. 
 
 HELEN. 
 
 ?>_Ji\VAS night— and the moon in her magical splendor, 
 
 ^- Lighted up the sea and the neighboring land; 
 Mellow and soft fell its beams, and so tender. 
 
 Over the rocks and the shifting sand: 
 Clear was the sky. save the stars in their glory, 
 
 Scarcely a zephyr to ruffle the calm. 
 Starlio-ht and moonbeams told their love story, 
 
 Mingled with odors from gardens of balm. 
 
 Near by the beach was tin 1 joyous pavillion. 
 
 Arches and pillars were laden with flowers; 
 Beauty and wealth glided through the cotillion. • 
 
 Reluctantly greeting the first morning hours: 
 Gay was the gathering of bright happy faces. 
 
 Brilliant and grand swept the restless throng: 
 Flitting like myths from the aerial places, 
 
 All hearts palpitating to music and song. 
 
HELEN. 11 
 
 I was alone in the whirlpool of pleasure. 
 
 Standing amazed at the gorgeous sight, 
 When from amidst the waltz's wild measure — 
 
 Too real for a vision, too lovely, to bright — 
 Stepped a fair maiden with cheeks like the roses 
 
 Sylph- like and graceful and shy. artful glance; 
 Throbbed her pure bosom where virture reposes, 
 
 As she blushingly asked me to join in the dance. 
 
 Where is the etiquette that would deprive me 
 
 Of moments of bliss, though brief they may be; 
 Of rapturous feelings one fond smile would give me, 
 
 And ever bewail fate's cruel decree ! 
 Oh no ! and away we swung in position, 
 
 My arm encircling her delicate waist; 
 All about us seemed perfect Elysian, 
 
 While gently she rested her head on my breast. 
 
 Round and round ! how the moonbeams darted 
 
 And peeped through the columns where revelry 
 reigned; 
 Lost in delirium, the pale light imparted 
 
 New charms that the charmer so proudly retained; 
 Forgot was the sea and the waves muffled sobbing, 
 
 The stars, generous rivals, twinkled in vain; 
 For a brighter star ruled my heart, and its throbbing, 
 
 Awakened my soul to loving again. 
 
12 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 But the moments flew by and the beautiful faces 
 
 Have gone from the dance and the restless throng; 
 Gaze where I will. I discover no traces 
 
 Of the pride of my heart, the queen of my song; 
 Ah joy. so ephemeral ! who would not covet 
 
 A pleasure deep buried beneath the far past ? 
 AVho would not worship or passionately love it, 
 
 And pray for such happiness ever to last. 
 
 JUNE. 
 
 [ HE slender leaf droops lowly down 
 To catch the passing breeze. 
 The buttercup and clovertop 
 The violet and heartsease, 
 All smile and greet with dewy kiss 
 
 The sun's inspiring rays. 
 And mingle with the morning air. 
 Their odors to his praise. 
 
 The crystal dew-drops sparkle 
 
 On flower, bush and tree: 
 The blackbird and the robin 
 
 Carol forth their melody: 
 O June! The month when roses 
 
 Burst from their captive bands, 
 And glow in hues most beautiful. 
 
 That rivals fairv lands. 
 
IN MEMOBIAM. 13 
 
 The day grows hot and sultry. 
 
 And 'neath the maple tree, 
 The cattle and the panting flocks 
 
 Lie down contentedly; 
 While bee and butterfly wanders 
 
 In search of fairer flowers, 
 The lark and thrush in earnest tones, 
 
 Contest their vocal powers. 
 
 The ripening grain in yellow waves. 
 
 Bedecks the distant fields, 
 And summer with a lavish hand, 
 
 A bounteous harvest yields; 
 Sweet summertime! Thy stay prolong; 
 
 Dear June! Thy joys extend; 
 With autumn's frost and winter's snow. 
 
 Thv charms and beauties blend. 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 'X'AIR are the emblems of love and devotion, 
 *-— ' Pure are the motives that prompt each and all* 
 flushed are the discords of strife and commotion 
 That echoed and thundered from ocean to ocean. 
 And sad are the mem'ries to-day we re-call. 
 
 The angel of Peace spreads her wings o'er the land,. 
 The land of all lands where libeitv reigns ; 
 
14 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 And gratitude bids us with generous hand. 
 Deck with flowers the graves of the patriot hand. 
 Who swept from its stronghold rebellion's dark 
 
 stains 
 
 The cannon is silent, the drum beats no 'larm, 
 The picket has gone from the hill-top and wood. 
 
 No bugle blast sounds for the country to arm. 
 
 No need <»(' the warrior to guard us From harm. 
 Through the phalanx of right no foe can intrude 
 
 On the fields when North and South met to dispel 
 
 The clouds of contention that covered the sky, 
 The crumbling trenches silently te'l 
 How brave men fought, how brave men fell, 
 Glad that they for their country could die. 
 
 Manx wrongs have we suffered but all arc forgiven, 
 'Tis human to sin though we cannot forget 
 
 How they valiantly charged and the enemy driven. 
 
 Left death in their wake with brave columns riven, 
 And victory rejoiced with a sigh of regret. 
 
 Oh. Columbia thy children will cherish for aye 
 
 The freedom they won the cause that was just. 
 And friend and foeman welcomed the day 
 When the last battle's smoke had drifted away. 
 
 Though we mourned for the dead who lav in the dust. 
 
NEW YEAR SONG. 15 
 
 Fair are the ilowers we scatter above them, 
 Fairest and purest that Nature can yield, 
 Gently and tenderly —how we still love them — 
 Around the graves we gather to prove them. 
 
 And honor the soldier, our pride and our shield. 
 
 NEW YEAK SONG. 
 
 ING sweet bells, ring out in your gladness! 
 Ring while the new year dawns on us now; 
 Ring: away sorrow and alienate sadness. 
 
 Let peace and happiness rest on each brow. 
 
 Twine the bright evergreen over the arches 
 Greet with a smile each well-wishing guest; 
 
 Blow ye cold winds and moan through the larches, 
 Within, all are joyous, light hearted and blest. 
 
 Bar the hall door if grief seeks admittance — 
 Close draw r the curtains if trouble comes near; 
 
 Give of your bounty not a mere pittance, 
 And keep for the erring a sigh or a tear. 
 
 Bright are the hopes that gleam in the distance; 
 
 Proudly ambition points to the crown; 
 Onward we press with unfailing persistence, 
 
 If we would reap what others have sown. 
 
16 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 Ring, sweet bells and cheer the sad hearted! 
 
 Tell them the old year has gone with his cares; 
 All the dark shadows awhile have departed — 
 
 Nothing but death can awaken our fears. 
 
 MY DOVES. 
 
 |N a cage that hangs by the window 
 
 Two doves sit cooing to me; 
 Their plaintive notes startle the stillness. 
 
 And I look up quickly to see; 
 Their language is sad and mysterious, 
 
 I cannot explain what they say; 
 But they coo as if they were pleading 
 
 For freedom to fly far away; 
 My conscience sometimes reproves me, 
 
 And tells me to open the door: 
 But I love them so dearly, and should I, 
 
 My doves would come back no more. 
 
 In a crib that stands in the corner, 
 
 Two forms lie sleeping serene, 
 Two curly heads rest on the pillows — 
 
 Four plump, rosy cheeks are seen; 
 O their sleep is so gentle and happy 
 
 That an angel might envy their rest; 
 No sorrow or care can molest them, 
 
 And their lot is perfectly blest; 
 
NORTH AND SOUTH. 17 
 
 They are the doves of the household 
 'Round which our hearts are entwined; 
 
 God bless them and guard them forever, 
 And peace in his lovingness find. 
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH. 
 
 [Written on the occasion of the reception given to the Ex-Confed- 
 erate soldiers by the G. A, R. Posts at Carlisle, Sept. 28, 1881.] 
 
 3||EHOLD the change the tide of years hath made ! 
 Here on this spot to-day we meet; 
 With love and generous feeling greet, 
 They who once came with war's destructive raid. 
 
 Exultingly they swept through valley's fair. 
 And caused glad hearts to grieve and mourn; 
 'Twas but the rule; for we in turn 
 
 Spread death and desolation everywhere. 
 
 But now we live in union and in peace. 
 
 The bloody chasm has ceased to be ; 
 
 Forgotten is the enmity. 
 And freedom brings, to all, a proud release. 
 
 "Welcome," we say, "thrice welcome to our homes !" 
 
 For we are one in heart and land, 
 
 And love shall bind us like a band, 
 And draw the wanderer back who roams. 
 
18 Din FT WOOD. 
 
 O. may we stand united. South and North ! 
 
 Revere the flag that floats on high 
 
 And for its safety freely die. 
 To show the world our patriotic worth. 
 
 " SEMPER FIDELIS." 
 
 1\ LWAYS faithful my darling to thee; 
 Wilt though always be loyal to ine? 
 Into thy keeping my future I give^ 
 Live unto me as thou'd have me to live: 
 Frankly hut generously speak of my faults 
 Chide me if ever my passion revolts; 
 Thou art my life: oh help me to be 
 Always faithful my darling to thee. 
 
 • 
 Always faithful— the years cannot bring 
 
 One shadow to darken my heart while I sing: 
 One pang of distrust, or tear of regret — 
 Such sorrowful phantoms, oh may we forget; 
 Though summers will fade and chill winters come, 
 Our paths will grow brighter e'en unto the tomb; 
 God strengthen niy trust and help me to be 
 Always faithful mv darline to thee. 
 
AT THE GRAVE OF POE. 19 
 
 AT THE GRATE OF POE 
 
 [Edgar Allan Poo lies buried in the Westminster churchyard, 
 Baltimore. A few years ago the teachers of that city erected a monu- 
 ment over his grave.] 
 
 III! HEN the chimes of early Sabbath bells 
 
 Came to my ear with solemn melody. 
 I stood beside the marble shaft that tells 
 
 Of him who rests, from all life's tempests, free. 
 
 Pensive and sad; for there was genius wrecked 
 Upon the rocks of dissipation's shore. 
 
 And in my sadness I could e'en suspect. 
 I heard that helpless cry of "Nevermore." 
 
 Beneath the shadows of those sacred walls. 
 
 Where pilgrims to the poet's grave repair, 
 ' ; The Bells' " sweet music on the stillness falls, 
 
 Then softly floats far off upon the air. 
 
 Love comes in pity and with loyal tears. 
 
 And longs with earnest wish to see 
 The idol of those faded, vanquished, years — 
 
 The spirit of the charming "Eulalie." 
 
 How few who knew him understood him right; 
 
 Deep flowed the undercurrent of his soul: 
 High in the realms of thought his fancy's flight 
 
 Would be; then back in glorious triumph roll. 
 
20 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 The world condemned him for his wanton ways ; 
 
 Despised, when passions ruled his frame; 
 Yet for his talents all would join in praise, 
 
 And proudly speak of his deserving name. 
 
 Hope ceased to lead him o'er the rugged road; 
 
 Pride fled at last and wretchedness came on; 
 Despair possession took — so great the load — 
 
 That Death, the king, proclaimed the struggle won. 
 
 Charity for all the wayward sons of men! 
 
 Forbear to cast reproaches on their lives: 
 For we who follow are not free from sin, 
 
 And from one fount each man. his faults, derives. 
 
 TO A CHESTNUT TKEE. 
 
 ^j * ONG hast thou stood here in thy pride 
 " Pointing aloft towards heaven's blue: 
 Many rude storms have beat thy side 
 Yet thou'rt standing firm and true. 
 
 Far out thy branches wide have spread. 
 
 Shielding me from the blazing sun : 
 Birds have, to thy protection fled, 
 
 When the day's tedious cares were done. 
 
 On thy green twiglets they have swung, 
 Swayed by the evening's gentle winds. 
 
FAIR CUMBERLAND. 21 
 
 In thanks, their charming songs have sung — 
 The sweetest notes the heart e'er finds. 
 
 And as October's hazy days roll free, 
 
 And ripened nuts fall thickly down, 
 They're gaily gleaned mid shouts of glee 
 
 By romping children from the neighboring towu. 
 
 But I've heard thy branches sighing 
 
 And moaning when I'm neath thy shade — 
 
 Dost thou know thou'rt slowly dying, 
 
 That time will make thy green leaves fade ? 
 
 Mourn not old tree; for Autumn's hues 
 
 Are glorious in their new-born dress; 
 While April suns fresh life infuse, 
 
 And screens the show of sore distress 
 
 FAIR CUMBERLAND, 
 
 ^jjj^AIR Cumberland! fair Cumberland I sing my song 
 ^ to thee 
 
 The fairest valley 'neath the skies, with mountains 
 
 wild and free ; 
 Green fields attired in gayest robes and forests clad 
 
 anew, 
 Surpassing all the storied lands that shine iu history's 
 view. 
 
22 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 Oh where's the clime that vainly boasts a Iovlier vale 
 than ours, 
 
 Where roses bloom so generously and earth's most fra- 
 grant flowers ': 
 
 For romance, health or beauty, or either charms, may be, 
 
 There's none, oh fair, fair Cumberland, can be compared 
 to thee. 
 
 Oh. Cumberland! fair Cumberland! upon thy bosom 
 
 dwells 
 
 Contented with their destiny, their happiness foretells 
 Thy lovely daughters nobler hearts ne'er beat within a 
 
 breast, 
 And braver, patriotic sons, no country e'er possessed: 
 Noble and brave! when duty called the sturdy hand to 
 
 wield 
 The sword to drive the foeman back, our firesides to 
 
 shield. 
 They sprung to arms: no thought of else but home and 
 
 liberty, 
 And sacrificed their opening lives, fair Cumberland for 
 
 thee. 
 
 Oh, Cumberland! fair Cumberland! dear to my youthful 
 
 days. 
 In memory of those happy hours, to thee my voice I 
 
 raise: 
 Along thy streams and shady groves where sunlight 
 
 scarce could come. 
 
FAIR CUMBERLAND. 2S 
 
 O'er hills and Holds I careless roamed and heard the 
 
 wild bees hum. 
 Blithe birds that woke me at the dawn with matin songs 
 
 of joy — 
 E'en yet I feel that ecstasy that thrilled me when a boy; 
 Oh, jife! oh. hope! oh memory of childhood's guileless 
 
 glee. 
 That binds my heart so firmly, fair Cumberland, to thee. 
 
 Oh, Cumberland, fair Cumberland, one boom of Fate 
 
 I'd ask 
 To live my days beneath thy sun and life would be no 
 
 task; 
 To gaze upon thy fertile plains as time rolls swiftly by, 
 Though Old Age steals my manhood's crown, I'll breathe 
 
 no mournful sigh: 
 () vale of beauty! home of love, of friends and kindred 
 
 dear, 
 The man has but a stubborn heart that leaves without a 
 
 tear: 
 But whereso'er my barb shall sail upon Life's stormy sea, 
 'Twill bring me safelv back again, fair Cumberland, to 
 
 thee. 
 
24 DBIFTWOOD. 
 
 THE OLD YEAR, 
 
 OME while the old year dies, 
 And join the parting song: 
 Come, ere the last hour flies, 
 Or the last sad knell has rung. 
 
 Afar on the winds there comes a moan, 
 
 Of one more year so nearly gone: 
 
 One more link to the shadowy past. 
 
 Soon to be forged and welded fast : 
 
 One more tie to that mystic realm. 
 
 "Where Faith will guide sweet memory's helm. 
 
 O dead year so near the parting hour 
 We soon must say to thee '"good-bye;" 
 
 "We've clung as stem to withered flower. 
 And watched the roses fade and die. 
 
 Our ships have sailed from port away 
 
 Freighted with love: far down the bay 
 
 They waved adieu, then floated on 
 
 To lands unseen and griefs unknown: 
 
 And the waves of time, though the storms are o'er, 
 
 Cast no spars of hope on the lovely shore — 
 
THE OLD YEA It. 25 
 
 Gone the days and months ne'er to return — 
 The springtime glories, fair summer's charms, 
 
 With golden Autumn's frosty morn, 
 And winter's shivering, naked arms. 
 
 Kind friends that toiled close by our side, 
 
 Weary of life, have dropped and died: 
 
 And the sound of the midnight bell will fall 
 
 Alike on hut and gilded hall; 
 
 For pauper and prince have passed away. 
 
 With an equal chance at the judgment day. 
 
 Farewell eld year, a kind farewell to thee: 
 
 Thy blasted hopes, thy pleasures fair but frail; 
 
 Ah! these have gone to that eternity 
 
 Where all mankind on time's swift pinions 
 sail. 
 
 Toll, sad bells, your requiem toll. 
 As thou wouldst for a passing soul; 
 Let thy mournful music float 
 Out on the air to lands remote; 
 There tell to each in solemn tone, 
 The year is dead: the old year's gone. 
 
DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 FORT McHENRY. 
 
 STOOD upon the firm built wall, 
 
 And looked toward the distant bay; 
 Watching the high tide ebb and fall 
 While slowly sank the orb of day. 
 
 The sunlight o'er the ramparts shone. 
 
 The sea-gull napped his wings in fright; 
 The sentry paced his beat alone, 
 
 The owl proclaimed the coming night. \ 
 
 The ivy 'cross the bomb-proof runs, 
 Quite carelessly it's tendrils play 
 
 And fondly clasps the rusted guns — 
 Brave champions of the battle-fray. 
 
 Defenders of Columbia's shore! 
 
 England acknowledged thee supreme; 
 She fled; and ventures here no more 
 
 To hear thy lips repeat the same. 
 
 Dear Spangled Banner floating free 
 Above Patapsco's rippling waves, 
 
 No foe shall ever trample thee 
 
 Save o'er the mound that marks our graves. 
 
BE CALM, OH HEART, BE CALM. 27 
 
 McHenry; guard the freeman's land! 
 
 Let Liberty and Justice reign; 
 And death reward the traitorous hand 
 
 That dares to forge a tyrants chain 
 
 BE CALM, OH HEART, BE CALM. 
 
 HEN days that bring adversity 
 
 Are passing o'er thy head; 
 When sorrow's cup is running o'er 
 
 And every hope has fled; 
 Be not discouraged, there is yet 
 
 For every wound a balm; 
 Be brave, and in the darkest hour 
 
 Be calm, oh heart, be calm. 
 
 When friendship's ties are broken 
 
 And love a traitor turns; 
 When friends are rudely banished 
 
 For whom affection yearns; 
 'Tis then amid the turmoil 
 
 Afar we see the palm; 
 Be patient and throughout the fray 
 
 Be calm, oh heart, be cairn. 
 
28 DBTFTWOOD. 
 
 JENNIE WADE 
 
 WWO long days they had fought, 
 ^ And the battle was raging hot, 
 
 When the third day dawned on the troubled land: 
 The wounded looked pale and wan. 
 And the dead 'neath the July sun, 
 Lay grim and scorched with aever a caring hand. 
 
 O, the valor of those who stood, 
 
 All round them death and blood. 
 Will live eternally in history and song ; 
 
 And the victory achieved, 
 
 Though thousands were bereaved, 
 Forever crushed a cruel and a terrible wrong. 
 
 Not all the brave ones fought 
 
 Where the tight was raging hot. 
 But they did what they could with a will. 
 
 And the name of Jennie Wade. 
 
 Who baked the snow-white bread. 
 Is emblazoned high on Fame's immortal hill. 
 
 Working with might and zeal, 
 
 Only patriots feel. 
 Who stake their life upon the 1 tattle's end. 
 
 Food for the famished men. 
 
 Praying they might win 
 And save the flag that traitors tried to rend. 
 
I LEAR y ED. DEAR FRIEND, ETC. 29 
 
 Ruthless the bullet crashed. 
 
 Wildly the warm blood splashed, 
 Drenching her silken hair with crimson gore ; 
 
 Bravest of spirits fled ; 
 
 In the flush of girlhood, dead, 
 Martyred when youth its lovliest mantle wore. 
 
 0, grant that mother s plea; 
 
 Forbid that she should see 
 A nation's sinful, base ingratitude ; 
 
 Never beneath the skies 
 
 Was a nobler sacrifice. 
 So freely offered up for our good. 
 
 I LEARNED. DEAR FRIEND, THAT THOU WERT 
 DEAD. 
 
 ^ LEARNED, dear friend, that thou wert dead. 
 That loving friends had laid thee low; 
 That flowers, now above thy head, 
 
 Wave sadly when the soft winds blow. 
 
 'Tis scarce a year since last I seen 
 The happy smile adorn thy face; 
 
 The heart I would have died to win, 
 The form that now has lost its grace 
 
30 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 Didst thoa discern the secret name 
 That burned within my soul for thee ? 
 
 Or thought, as blushes went and came, 
 Thou wert the brightest star to me f 
 
 'Twas my desire to meet once more 
 To tell thee what I longed to tell : 
 
 But now the latest hope is o'er 
 And bids to all the rest farewell. 
 
 Sleep peacefully! perhaps 'tis best 
 That death prevented ere too late; 
 
 Fnmated, Love could ne'er have blest, 
 And only Friendship turned to hate. 
 
 AbTEE HARVEST. 
 
 -CjiHE cricket's monotonous chirp is herd, 
 ® In the twilight the katydid's crying; 
 The song is hushed and scarcely a word 
 Or note we hear of the mocking bird, 
 For summer is slowly dying. 
 
 The wind sweeps over the meadows, mown, 
 
 The dandelion's glory has faded: 
 The lily and violet blooms for none, 
 The perfume that rose from the clover is gone 
 Since the blossoms were rudely beheaded. 
 
A FTER HA R I r EST. 31 
 
 The barns are filled with the reaper's spoil, 
 The fields mourn the loss of their cover; 
 Kind plenty rewarded each man for his toil, 
 The blessings have sprung from the rich bearing soil 
 That is teeming the wide world over. 
 
 The corn fields wave in the breeze with delight, 
 
 And the blades rustle glad with the motion; 
 The dew-drops dance beneath the moon's light, 
 O'er the distant hills comes shadowy night 
 That darkens the earth and the ocean. 
 
 September's cool wind is coloring the leaf 
 
 From beautiful green to yellow; 
 Clinging, they part from the twilight in grief, 
 Descending they sigh for a life so brief 
 
 To decay in some lone dreary ho] low. 
 
 Autumn steps in and changes the scene 
 
 When the grapes hang down from the trellis; 
 
 And the trees, bending low, speak the story they mean? 
 
 How each tiny branch overloaded has been, 
 And the eye quickly sees what they tell us. 
 
 The seasons fast roll in succession away, 
 
 On the wings of old Time they have started; 
 And the sun that beams on the new-born day 
 As it dawns on the earth will mournfully say, 
 " Sweet summers forever departed." 
 
32 DiUFTW OOl>. 
 
 THE UNKNOWN DEAD. 
 
 iCLIDE by side, 'neath the Southern sky. 
 ~~ Kow after row they quietly lie. 
 Never disturbed by the stranger's tread. 
 Calmly they sleep -the unknown dead. 
 
 Forth from their homes they quickly rushed 
 With sparkling eyes and young cheeks flushed, 
 Waving their caps and shouting aloud. 
 Wearing, unknown, their burial shroud. 
 
 In the early light the bayonets gleamed, 
 The drums beat loud, the shrill fife screamed : 
 The columns moved onward, one by one. 
 And the years of sorrow and death begun. 
 
 Over the hills the regiments passed. 
 The bullets whistled, the shells flew fast, 
 Down where the battle was raging wild, 
 Into the hottest they gallantly tiled. 
 
 Then at the close of the blood-bought fray 
 
 Sadly they bore each comrade away: 
 But those unmoved, left lying alone. 
 Were marked with the sentence : "name unknown. 
 
 Far in the North there are eyes that wee]) 
 For those over whom the clematis creep ; 
 
ONE FACE I CANNOT SEE. 33 
 
 Martyrs of freedom ; their life work is clone. 
 The battles are ended, the great cause won. 
 
 Honor the dead, let history and story 
 Tell the brave deeds and crown them with glory. 
 On liberty's altar their lives were laid down. 
 And Heaven remembers the dead unknown. 
 
 ONE FACE I CANNOT SEE. 
 
 SjI'M lonely in the early morn, 
 
 'Ere night is from the daylight torn 
 
 'Ere Phoebe's rays shine o'er the hills. 
 And in each flower new life instills : 
 All the world seems dark to me 
 Since there's one face I cannot see. 
 
 Of dearest friends I have a score, 
 And yet I yearn for one friend more 
 With whom my tro bles I could, share 
 And drop the sympathetic tear ; 
 And thus I live on mournfully 
 Since her sweet face I cannot see. 
 
 When I within the album gaze 
 
 And view the friends of bygone days. 
 
 I pass them by to look for one 
 
34 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 Whose smile has from my presence gone 
 All other charms are lost to me 
 Since her loved face I ne'er shall see. 
 
 TO LENA. 
 
 S years pass by with steady pace 
 
 And summers come and winters go ; 
 Still through the veil the fairest face 
 
 Of all looks down on me below; 
 And "round the vision lovely dreams 
 
 And recollections closely twine, 
 Yet hone sends out no welcome gleams 
 
 J. o 
 
 That thou, dear heart, can e'er be mine. 
 
 I would not. if I could, forget 
 
 The pleasures of a short-lived bliss; 
 Though sad the end, I'll ne'er regret 
 
 That fate has wove a chain like this 
 Which binds me to the buried past 
 
 Wherein thy memory appears: 
 Enclosed by love forever fast, 
 
 And framed with pity, grief and tears. 
 
 'Twas not from weakdess that I shed 
 
 Those teardrops when our parting came: 
 
 I co aid not weep more for thee dead — 
 Alive or dead were words the same; 
 
A WINTER NIGHT. 35 
 
 But 'twas that we should never meet 
 
 To love as in the days of yore; 
 To never have thy welcomes sweet 
 
 Cheer my lone heart, oh, never more. 
 
 And Lena, should the coming years 
 
 Bring to thee love and happiness; 
 Remember there is one whose tears 
 
 Are shed to make thy sorrows less ; 
 And in that life for which we pine 
 
 No arm, congenial souls, can part, 
 But there with peace and bliss divine, 
 
 United, dwell, in soul and heart. 
 
 A WINTER NIGHT. 
 
 { 2pOIJD roars the storm without, 
 ^ Fierce drives the falling scow; 
 
 Ye Gods! what a night for the traveler, 
 Or those with no homes to go. 
 
 Cold blows the cutting blast, 
 
 And howls through the empty street; 
 
 Not a heart so brave to venture forth 
 To face the snow and sleet. 
 
 Wildly the shutters clash 
 
 "Gainst the house across the way; 
 
 While I sit alone by the cheerful fire 
 And wish for the warmth of Mav. 
 
36 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 I r m tired of wintry winds. 
 
 Of snow, of ice and sleet: 
 I long to stray by the rippling stream, 
 
 And the opening violets greet. 
 
 To roam through the shady woods 
 
 And watch the squirrels play: 
 To search the meadow for buttercups 
 
 Or toss the fresh mown hay. 
 
 And I long fur the summer days. 
 
 For green leaves, birds and flowers; 
 When the sun shines warm and the blooming world 
 
 Is blest with refreshing showers. 
 
 But wishing and longing is vain. 
 
 For the wind still moans outside: 
 If we patiently wait the spring will come. 
 
 With tiie smiles of a new-made bride. 
 
 And I sit by the tire alone 
 
 Till the night has kissed the morn; 
 
 Till the snow lies deep in drifted heaps. 
 And the trees look bare and forlorn. 
 
MY MOTHER. 37 
 
 MY MOTHER, 
 
 'NE is the dearest, best friend of my days, 
 O, deeply the loss I'm deploring, 
 The spirit that watched o'er my wandering ways 
 
 In the land of the ransomed is soaring ; 
 My heart is saddened ; my eyes fill with tears : 
 
 The truest of all now is taken, 
 The sunshine that fell on my path disappears 
 As I toil on sadly forsaken. 
 
 My mother, thy hand led me gently along 
 
 By the banks of life's flowing river. 
 We heard, with delight, each bird's happy song. 
 
 And memory will bear them forever. 
 I weep for those days — dear mother. I mourn 
 
 For a friend that is true and confiding ; 
 Who will hold to the wreck by adversity torn 
 
 With a love that is ever abiding. 
 
 Bright flowers that bloom o'er thy grave on the hill, 
 Breathe a calm, holy influence around them. 
 
 They tell us of vows we pledged to fulfill, 
 'Ere winter's white mantel had bound them ; 
 
 Q may thy loved spirit constantly cling- 
 To the rock where my hopes are implanted, 
 
 And serve as a beacon my tossed barque to bring, 
 When the waves have a rest to them granted. 
 
38 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 THIRTEEN YEARS. 
 
 WHIBTEEN short years are numbered since 
 through this glorious land, 
 The sound of carnage and of strife raged fierce 
 on every hand: 
 Since the dark smoke of battle swept through the sultry 
 
 air 
 While faintly shone the sun's dim rays to lighten 
 earth's despair. 
 
 The home-stead was deserted, the men had left the 
 farm ; 
 
 The sledge and hammer silent, and gone the sturdy 
 
 arm : 
 The plow stood in the furrow till the mould-board, 
 
 rusted, grew. 
 For the hands that used to guide it had gone to battle 
 
 too. 
 
 When the cruel war was ended we looked for them to come ; 
 We watched for their happy faces, when the troops 
 
 came marching home; 
 We glanced along the columns with eager anxious 
 
 eye, 
 For a glimpse of the boyish soldiers, but they never 
 
 came marching by. 
 
THIRTEEN YEARS. 39 
 
 Their comrades with tear stained faces had a mournful 
 tale to tell 
 
 How they charged o'er the breastworks with a deafen- 
 ing shout and yell; 
 
 But ere they shared the glory of that struggle hand to 
 hand. 
 
 They gave their lives a ransom to save this blessed land. 
 
 There's many a chair that's vacant, there's many a tear- 
 ful eye, 
 
 There's many a heart still mourning for one so young 
 to die: 
 
 In that land away to the southward that's kissed by 
 Atlantic's wave 
 
 'Neath the shade of pine and orange, there's many a 
 lonely grave. 
 
 Bring flowers from every hillside, strew pansies on each 
 
 mound, 
 Bring wreaths of fairest blossoms and scatter o'er the 
 
 ground ; 
 O sweet will be their memory and welcome flowery 
 
 May 
 To crown each soldiers resting place on Decoration 
 
 dav. 
 
4(1 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 WHEN THE MOON SHINES OYER THE WATER. 
 
 TfTpHEN the moon shines over the water. 
 
 And the golden beams dance on the lake. 
 While the stars twinkle forth in their beauty, 
 
 O. come of this gladness partake ; 
 Far out on the calm placid surface, 
 
 Our boat will gracefully glide 
 Away from the world and its warrings, 
 
 And the storms that ruffle the tide. 
 
 Let the oar- lay useless and idle, 
 
 And the rudder guide as it may, 
 We will seek nowhere for a haven 
 
 But float with the current away. 
 And while we are carelessly drifting 
 
 We'll gaze in the star spangled sky, 
 And sing of the future before ns 
 
 And the years that have passed quickly by. 
 
 This life, to ns. seems, as it passes. 
 
 Like the memory of beautiful dreams 
 A moment we joy in their sweetness, 
 
 When, fading, they leave but their gleams ; 
 Our youth, too. will fade a- the roses, 
 
 Old age. with his slow, feeble tread. 
 Points back, with a sigh, in the distance. 
 
 To the hillocks that cover the dead. 
 
THE OLD MILL. 41 
 
 Shu aid Time find our hearts firm united 
 
 With Love standing watch at the door. 
 'Twill sprinkle our love locks with silver. 
 
 But leave us quite young as before : 
 The Springtime will pass and the Summer, 
 
 Next Autumn, then Winter's cold storms — 
 But never, O, never, my darling, 
 
 Can time, to me, lessen your charms. 
 
 THE OLD MILL. 
 
 OWN by the creek the old mill stood 
 And sentry-like watched o'er the fiood: 
 The waters swept close by the door, 
 Kissed the steps and was seen no more. 
 
 The wheel went round the summer long: 
 With steady move and weird song; 
 And the cogs creaked forth a doleful noise, 
 That startled the patient fisher boys. 
 
 The rumbling burs made music sweet, 
 As the clattering shoe the damsel beat; 
 And back from the tumbling, splashing wheel, 
 Mid dusty clouds, rolled the snowy meal. 
 
 Under the willows that lined the shore, 
 We watched the waters falling o'er, 
 
42 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 And sought for the minnows that darted by, 
 Shunning the bate with a cautious eye. 
 
 O faded years when the old log mill, 
 With its mossy roof and worn sill, 
 Was the world wherein our spirits swelled. 
 And praised each sight the eyes beheld. 
 
 Now r all from the old mill are gone, 
 Decayed and silent it stands alone 
 And the feet that marked the dusty floor, 
 Will climb the tottering stairs no more. 
 
 ONE EMBRACE AND THEN WE SEVER. 
 
 
 
 ^NE embrace and then we sever. 
 
 One fond kiss and then, good bye! 
 We are parting now forever, 
 Let us breathe a farewell sigh. 
 
 True, my dream of love is over. 
 Lost and fled forever more; 
 
 But no one will e'er discover 
 That I love you as before. 
 
 We will part, just once regretting 
 You and I had ever met; 
 
 Soon, too soon you'll be forgetting 
 Promises I'll ne'er forget. 
 
THE CLATTER OF THE BARS. 43 
 
 One embrace and then we sever, 
 One fond kiss and then farewell; 
 
 Love w T ill cling to hearts forever 
 Breathing low its holy spell. 
 
 THE CLATTER OF THE BARS. 
 
 HEN the sunset tints the mountains, 
 And the daylight fades away, 
 There's a sound that breaks the stillness 
 Of the evenings twilight, gray; 
 Hark! it comes up from the meadow 
 
 ■"Where the quiet cattle graze: 
 Quick they lift their heads to listen, 
 And in curious manner gaze; 
 
 'Tis the milkmaid loudly calling, 
 And beneath the peeping stars, 
 Mingles with her voice, the music 
 Of the clatter of the bars. 
 
 As the cows with grateful lowing, 
 
 Leave the pasture rich and green, 
 Marching slow in quaint procession, 
 
 Up the pathway to the lane; 
 Close behind the milkmaid following:, 
 
 Swings her bonnet to and fro, 
 Sings a song of love ana pleasure, 
 
 And the days of long ago; 
 
44 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 But above her gladsome music 
 And beneath the twinkling stars. 
 
 Comes the notes in equal measure 
 Of the clatter of the bars. 
 
 When the years have tied and left us 
 
 Gray hairs on each aged brow: 
 And our once firm footsteps totter, 
 
 As we plod along below: 
 We will halt, and looking backward 
 
 To the charms that memory yields; 
 We shall hear the milkmaid singing, 
 See the cows and pasture fields ; 
 And as softly falls the twilight, 
 
 We will wait beneath the stars. 
 And in fancy hear the music. 
 Of the clatter of the bars. 
 
 FORSAKEN. 
 
 C\ LONE, I walk by the restless sea, 
 
 The murmuring waves wash the dreary shore, 
 Rebounding, they roll, and solemnly 
 Call back one who will come no more. 
 
 Long ago, when the world to me was bright. 
 And summer smiled on the fragrant hills. 
 
THE S WALL O W& 45 
 
 We strayed 'neath the full moon's joyous light 
 That flirted and danced with the rattling rills. 
 
 We wandered along by the rocky beach. 
 
 And planned for the years we dreamed in store, 
 Believing that fate would be kind to each. 
 
 And happily dwell where the breakers roar. 
 
 We kissed good-bye, and he pledged to return 
 When fortune would load him heavily down, 
 
 And I wait by the sea depressed and forlorn, 
 
 While the bloom of my cheek has forever flown. 
 
 Sometimes the names sound so strangely sad, 
 I think his loved spirit is speaking to me ; 
 
 And I'll walk by the beach till I know he is dead. 
 And our souls are at rest bevond death's sea. 
 
 THE SWALLOWS. 
 
 'AR from the South the swallows come 
 
 Joyfully back to last year's home ; 
 How they skim o'er hill and lea, 
 Dart, then circle gracefully ; 
 Dipping their wings in lake or river, 
 Beautiful birds they tire, never. 
 
48 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 Building nests high under the eaves. 
 Curiously wrought of mud and leaves. 
 Fastened to rafters, shingle or beam, 
 Never a flaw or perceptible seam ; 
 Skillful architects ! genius is thine ; 
 Talent and industry thou dost combine. 
 
 Around the house they twitter and fly, 
 Catching insects that chance to pass by ; 
 Over the sheds they frolic and play, 
 Happy tbat winter has hastened away ; 
 All the springtime and summer long 
 The barn will echo their cheerful so7iL f - 
 
 TO LIB. 
 
 "My sister ! my sweet sister ! if a name 
 
 Dearer and purer were it should be thine." — Byron. 
 
 IJIEABER and truer none could be 
 
 Than thou hast been to me 
 And I have strove as thou dost know. 
 
 To be as true to thee: 
 But man has not the tenderness 
 
 That crowns a woman's love 
 That w T ins him from the wayward path 
 
 And pleads for him above. 
 
TO LIB. 47 
 
 My sister! Thou art far away 
 
 Beyond the prairies, green: 
 Thrice blest are they who linger where 
 
 Thou rulest wife and queen ; 
 But we are parted: God, alone 
 
 Knows when we'll meet again: 
 Yet thou shalt never be forgot 
 
 In pleasures or in pain. 
 
 Our youthful home seems but a dream, 
 
 And oh! That hillside mound, 
 Where mother's form so lightly sleeps 
 
 And Spring's first flowers are found: 
 Is still the shrine of sacred love. 
 
 The sepulchre of vows. 
 The Mecca, where with loyalty. 
 
 My lone heart, faithful, bows. 
 
 How harsh old time to us hath been; 
 
 The years e'en laugh in scorn, 
 Then steal away with scarce a glance 
 
 To leave us more forlorn: 
 But Hope, a fair deceiver, oft 
 
 Doth whisper soft and low. — 
 "Cheer up! The valiant never fears 
 
 Nor sighs for long ago." 
 
 But thou shalt ever be to me 
 A sister fond and true 
 
48 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 A friend through all adversity — 
 Ah. souls like thine, are few : 
 
 Heaven gives to every wayward heart 
 An angel's guardian care: 
 
 To watch and pray and patient wait, 
 And. joy of victories, share. 
 
 FAIRAVELL. MY DEAR COUNTRY. 
 
 ^^ ARE WELL my dear country. I bid you adieu, 
 ^ Your dear hills and valleys, farewell to them 
 
 too: 
 Adieu to the rivers that unceasingly now 
 From the far away highlands to the lowlands below. 
 
 Farewell to the fmvsts. the fields and the flowers. 
 Oh, oft I have wandered in childhoods hours. 
 Xe'er thinking, ne'er dreaming thou pride of my heart 
 That Ave, dearest friends, would be driven apart, 
 
 Forewell to that home left forever behind, 
 
 A lovlier one. shall I evermore find? 
 
 But tyranny's chains cursed the air with their sound, 
 
 And the groans of oppression made the valleys resound- 
 
 Farewell to the lass who waits by the stile 
 To w r elcome my coming with a kiss and a smile; 
 O pray let the years of our parting be few. 
 Till the land of adoption shall welcome her too. 
 
THE HAPPY OLD FARMER. 49 
 
 O, God! can it be there are men neath the skies, 
 
 Who for power or fame, their souls sacrifice? 
 
 No mercy extend to the poor of their race, 
 
 E'en denied and forbid, on this green earth a place. 
 
 Farewell dearest land, awhile fare -you-well — 
 O! I'll anxiously wait for an answer to tell 
 That old Ireland is loosed and her people are free, 
 And hail it with iov Avhen it comes o'er the sea. 
 
 THE HAPPY OLD FARMER. 
 
 HEN winter gives notice he's coming quite near, 
 With cold frosty morning sand skies shining 
 cl^av. 
 And the leaves drop forsaken, the birds fly away 
 To that bright sunny clime where warm breezes stay ; 
 When the winds sadly sigh through the old map!e tree, 
 And the hearth, all aglow, gives its warmth far and free, 
 There's none so contented, so hearty and hale, 
 As the happy old farmer who lives in the vale. 
 
 The harvest is gathered and garnered for use, 
 He's thankful that nature has been so profuse, 
 The corn is husked and stored in the shed, 
 And the sleek round cattle are generously fed ; 
 He's kind to his neighbors, he's good to the poor, 
 And no beggar was ever turned out from his door, 
 
50 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 For he acts what he preaches, and says it is true, 
 As you do unto others, they'll do unto you ; 
 O, there's none so confuted, so hearty and hale 
 As the happy old farmer who lives in the vale. 
 
 He never is worried when prices get low. 
 
 Nor even excited when stocks upward go ; 
 
 For he owns no shares, no risks has he taken. 
 
 And when the crash comes his purse is unshaken ; 
 
 The farm is his own. the title is clear. 
 
 And the cellar tilled with the fruits of the year ; 
 
 His religion is pure, his views broad and true. 
 
 And his politics such as no man can eschew : 
 
 He strives to d<» right, all wrong he disdain-. 
 
 And his conscience rests tranquil and free of all stains; 
 
 Peace hovers around him and love rule- supreme, 
 
 And the past is remembered as some lovely dream ; 
 
 O. there's none so contented, so hearty and hale 
 
 As the happy old farmer who lives in the vale. 
 
 BAYARD TAYLOR. 
 
 /Q WEEP for the bard whose lute lies broken 
 
 His voice hushed by death, we'll never more hear 
 And the hearts that are mourning his loss are a token — 
 Though gone from our presence his name is still dear. 
 
BAYARD TAYLOR. 51 
 
 Humble bis birth, yet fame smiled upon him, 
 
 Honor and truth lighted up the dark way; 
 
 His feet reached the summit that genius had won him, 
 
 And crowned him with laurels that gladdened his day. 
 
 He sang in sad measures of ages departed 
 When the world was rocked in the cradle of time; 
 But he sang more joyful when love had imparted 
 It's holiest raptures ami made life sublime. 
 
 He has roamed the earth with friends and with 
 
 strangers, 
 From America's shores to far India's strand: 
 Partaken of pleasures and overcome dangers — 
 Yet never forgot his own blessed land. 
 
 Columbia, no more wilt thy praises be chanted; 
 No more will he sing of the land that he loved; 
 Patriot! Poet! Defending undaunted, 
 The home of the freeman wherever he roved. 
 
 Then rest, sweet singer, thy head on death's pillow, 
 Thy crown in Elysian is ready for thee: 
 And Charon will guide thee safe o'er the billow, 
 Where thou It hear the glad strains of heaven's melody. 
 
52 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 FILL UP THE BRIGHT WINE. 
 
 9p^ILL up the bright wine, let it sparkle and cheer 
 ^ And course through each vein till it drives away 
 
 fear. 
 Let it redden our cheeks like the roses of June, 
 And our hearts beat the time to the mystical tune. 
 
 Our feelings run high: there is pleasure for all, 
 
 AVe'll drink and we'll dance till the morning dews fall; 
 
 Every passion set free and in ecstacy soar. 
 
 And forget to awake when they charm ns no more. 
 
 Fill up the glass! to Bacchus we'll toast 
 Be his smile ever present, his blush never lost; 
 And the rapture of joy thrill the love in our hearts, 
 As the sun's dawuing rays new beauty imparts. 
 
 There is strength in the glass and it braces each nerve, 
 From life's rugged path we never shall swerve; 
 But bravely contend as new trials present, 
 Though defeated at last we'll never repent. 
 
CONFESSION. 5S 
 
 CONFESSION. 
 
 | ANLIKE, to thee, I owned my faults — 
 
 Faults I fain would cast away; 
 God knows ! My soul so oft revolts 
 
 That I am naught save what I say : 
 An outcast from love's loyal throne 
 
 Where hope deserts the wreck at last. 
 Standing on Life's rough shores alone 
 
 I cry: "Farewell to every good that's past!' 
 
 If I could love thou'dst be the first 
 
 To wake a tender chord within: 
 With gratitude my heart would burst 
 
 And proudly worship thee my queen. 
 () what is life where love comes not? 
 
 A home from whence affection's fled ? 
 Ah! Could this bitterness be forgot 
 
 Death has no sorrow I would fear or dread. 
 
 Sometime? Oh, sometime's far away! 
 
 Tis now I long to be released; 
 Must I be patient and await the day 
 
 Till death wins and my pulse hath ceased ? 
 Is there a hope ? Plead for me then, 
 
 That all this darkness may pass away : 
 Forgive the faults that make me sin 
 
 And for the future, loved one. pray. 
 
54 DIUFTWnon. 
 
 SPEING. 
 
 HEX lovely Spring has come again 
 With all the beauties of her train 
 When cold winters days are o'er 
 And we feel his chill no more, 
 Then we hail the gladsome sounds 
 That valley, hill and grove abounds. 
 
 Every shrieking, sweeping blast 
 For a season now is past: 
 Snow and ice and raw March winds 
 Steal away when Spring begins ; 
 Warm sunshine, balmy breeze. 
 Breathing on the budding trees, 
 Changing shabby dress for new. 
 Discarding old for greener hue ; 
 Locust, maple, oak and elm — 
 Princes of the forest realm ; 
 And above their tops is seen 
 The proud and stately evergreen. 
 
 O, ye woods in vernal bloom, 
 Shout aloud that Spring has come ! 
 For the zephyrs fill the air, 
 Toying with thy branches fair, 
 While the sunbeams gild the sky. 
 
RENUNCIATION. 55 
 
 Making earth look gorgeously, 
 From hillside, meadow, thicket, glen, 
 Chirps the blackbird, thrush and wren. 
 Holding concerts hourly, 
 Waking fairies with their glee. 
 
 Every stream has words of praise 
 Rippling on its tortuous ways ; 
 Sunny banks reflected true. 
 Interspersed with sparkling dew ; 
 Sprouting grass and opening flowers, 
 Choicest buds from Flora's bowers ; 
 Grazing cattle, bleating sheep, 
 Happy lambs that skip and leap — 
 All proclaim that Spring is here, 
 Merriest season of the year. 
 
 RENUNCIATION. 
 
 •iJiHOU art another's and I wish thee joy 
 ® I pray thou made'st a noble choice, 
 That he is pure without alloy, 
 And thou shalt evermore rejoice. 
 
 I loved thee for thyself alone, 
 
 But fortune failed to grant one smile; 
 
 'Twas wrong for thee to lure me on, 
 Thy idle moments to beguile. 
 
56 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 And when thy lips gave their consent 
 
 Did falsehood bribe thy nattering tongue? 
 
 To add one more and be content 
 
 To boast of what thou knew wast wrong ? 
 
 Thy gifts, so treacherous. I return 
 I ask not for mine own again: 
 
 They'd only wring more bitter scorn 
 For one who caused such useless pain. 
 
 Thank fate; and I shall ne'er regret — 
 Apart, our lives will happier be: 
 
 But memory will ne'er forget 
 The one fair face so false to me. 
 
 EVENING. 
 
 \£ N the west the sunsets splendor, 
 - J Falls on mountain, hill and dale; 
 And the last beams, soft and tender, 
 
 Wraps the earth in beauty's veil; 
 Fly the birds back to their perches : 
 
 Chirps the cricket in the wood 
 While the night-hawk anxious searches 
 
 Rest in deeper solitude. 
 
E VEXING. 57 
 
 Tired and weary from his labor 
 
 The whistling plough-boy homeward goes; 
 Over the fields his cheerful neighbor 
 
 Shouts "good-night and sweet repose!" 
 Down the lane the cows go cropping > 
 
 The rich verdure as they pass; 
 Tasting daintly, half stopping 
 
 For the tempting tufts of grass. 
 
 Hushed the noise of day's employments, 
 
 A dreamy influence hovers 'round: 
 Children cease their glad enjoyments, 
 
 And forsake the old play-ground. 
 Ever shall the evening breezes 
 
 Gladden hearts that long for rest; 
 Weary hands from labor ceases 
 
 Folded on some tired breast. 
 
 Quietly the brooks meander, 
 
 Peacefully the valleys sleep; 
 Reverently we gaze and wonder 
 
 As the stars their watchings keep ; 
 O what mysteries God has given, 
 
 Fathomless they seem to be ; 
 Leading us from earth to heaven, 
 
 To the soul's eternitv. 
 
58 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 TO LOTTIE. 
 
 ACH day that dies in the darkness, 
 
 Departs with a low-breathing sigh; 
 And the twilight that kisses the evening, 
 Speaks a sad and reluctant "good-bye." 
 
 There is sorrow in every parting, 
 
 When we know not how soon we may meet: 
 When the ones we so fondly have worshiped, 
 
 Takes away with them all thai is sweet. 
 
 When you and I part shall we promise 
 To remember, though distant we be? 
 
 To love and be true to each other — 
 Will our love be as deep as the sea ? 
 
 may we through life ever cherish 
 
 A thought of the one far away; 
 Our hearts will be stronger for waiting. 
 
 And brighter and happier the day. 
 
 AN AUTOGRAPH. 
 
 ^J D WISH for thee a heart sincere, 
 
 A mind to choose the right from wrong; 
 To shed, unbid, the pitying tear, 
 
 And cheer the way with smile and song. 
 
TO ALICE. 59 
 
 I'd wish for thee the grandest pearl, 
 Surpassing gems and diamonds rare; 
 
 'Tis Virtue, at which vice can hurl 
 It's darts, and leave thee still as fair. 
 
 I*d wish thy life to be as calm 
 
 As rivers when no breezes blow : 
 Thy voice to be a healing balm 
 
 For broken hearts from pain and woe. 
 
 I'd wish thee all that can be given: 
 
 Of peace, of love and happiness; 
 And from thy idols ne'er be driven, 
 
 Nor e ? er forget the friends who bless. 
 
 TO ALICE. 
 
 ~H NOTHER year has come and gone; 
 Thy life is nearer to it's prime; 
 Thou" It find a more congenial clime, 
 
 Than what thou hast already known; 
 For youth, with ever changing mood r 
 Gives place to charming womanhood 
 
 Thoivrt happy now; thy friends are true: 
 Thy home is such as few possess, 
 So fraught with love and happiness — 
 
60 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 Haste not to change the old for new, 
 Contentment is the magic word 
 That fascinates wherever heard. 
 
 Love what is noble pure and good; 
 
 A helping hand extend to all; 
 
 Let not a selfish heart enthrall 
 Thy actions: nor let pride intrude, 
 
 To mar the tenderness thou hast, 
 
 And thy sweet, gentle nature, blast. 
 
 May many birthdays crown thy years 
 Ah! dear one, as thou growest old 
 Forget not them, who now, behold 
 
 Thy happy face devoid of tears: 
 
 Thy future gleams with joy and peace 
 As rime departs may they increase. 
 
 THINK, SWEET, OF ME. 
 
 *5j|*HINK, sweet, of me when far away, 
 
 When distant countries lie between 
 Of thee I'll dream, for thee I'll pray 
 And swear thou art my love, my queen. 
 
 Think, sweet, of me when morning breaks 
 And paints the skies with golden light; 
 
 When birds and flowers with joy awakes, 
 And future days look glad and bright. 
 
SONG. 61 
 
 Think, sweet, of me that I may know, 
 That one true heart responsive beats; 
 
 Whilst bravely onward I shall go, 
 To face dread perils and defeats. 
 
 O think of me and love me still, 
 
 Though leagues divide thy path from mine; 
 I'll think of thee and thou shalt fill 
 
 My every hope, my heart's design. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 91 ? M lonely without thee this beautiful night, 
 
 ® I miss thy sweet smiling face; 
 
 And the love in thine eyes will greet me no more, 
 
 Nor joy in a loving embrace. 
 I'm sad, for the memory of happier days 
 
 When we pledged each other so true, 
 Comes back and fills my heart with regret, 
 
 And says they've forsaken me too. 
 
 How often we met where the river Hows by 
 
 With a pleasure that none can express; 
 We sang the old songs and longed for the time 
 
 When our love we could proudly confess; 
 But death, the cold-hearted stole thee away, 
 
 And left me to mourn here below: 
 I know thou'rt patiently waiting for me, 
 
 Till the conqueror tells me to go. 
 
62 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 Thou'rt gone: and to-night I'm lonely and sad, 
 
 Though the river flows by as of yore; 
 But there is one chord that is broken for aye, 
 
 And the charm of it's music is o'er. 
 O Annie, dear Annie, look down on me still 
 
 And cheer this lone heart of mine; 
 And welcome me over the river so cold. 
 
 To dwell in those mansions divine. 
 
 AT LAST. 
 
 At last 
 EAR heart. I clasp thy willing hand 
 
 And pledge to heaven where we stand, 
 To love; protect and cherish thee forever, 
 On stormy sea or gentle flowing river: 
 To guard and shield thee while we sail 
 Beneath fair skies or threatening gale; 
 Thy love shall be my earthly throne 
 Where I can kneel and kneel alone. 
 
 At last. 
 
 At last 
 With none to hinder I call thee minp. 
 And all my heart's best love is thine: 
 Take it; and in return thou'lt be 
 My guardian angel to eternity. 
 
THE BRIGHTEYED GIRTS OF LONG AGO. 63 
 
 O lead me through the paths of life. 
 Away from tempters, away from strife, 
 Into the light of truth and right 
 Out of the darkness, out of the night 
 
 At last. 
 
 At last! 
 O yes, at last the treasures won, 
 All my longing and heart ache is done; 
 Fortune has smiled and Peace once more 
 Will waft new pleasures to our cottage door; 
 And thus Time's stream will onward flow 
 And blessings greet us as we go, 
 Till Heaven's port is gained and we shall be 
 One heart, one soul in God's immensity 
 
 At last. 
 
 THE BRIGHT-EYED GIRLS OF LONG AGO. 
 
 iF all the dearest memories 
 
 That on my path some pleasures throw, 
 When e'er I will my fancy sees 
 The bright-eyed girls of long ago. 
 
 And in their faces I can trace 
 
 The old-time gladness and the glow 
 
 That made my heart beat such a pace — 
 Those bright- eyed girls of long ago. 
 
64 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 And one whose manners charmed me most 
 Whose soul was stainless as the snow, 
 
 I learned to love her, then I lost 
 My blue-eyed girl of long ago. 
 
 Time past; I loved another maid, 
 Bewitching all she chanced to know; 
 
 But proved, quite soon a fickle jade — 
 That black- eyed girl of long ago. 
 
 Black eyes or blue, their hearts were gay 
 And gleams of sunshine round them threw ; 
 
 They turned December into May — 
 Those bright- eyed girls of long ago. 
 
 I know not where their pathways lie, 
 But give if clinging still below; 
 
 This one a tear, that one a sigh 
 
 Those bright eyed girls of long ago. 
 
 NOVEMBER. 
 
 ^f*HE cold gray clouds float o'er the sky, 
 
 The wind sighs through the leafless tree; 
 Belated wild geese southward fly 
 To bask upon the tropic sea. 
 
 The birds have flown and none are left: 
 
 Not one of all the jolly crew: 
 I feel like one of joy bereft — 
 
 I miss the song and singer, too. 
 
BEAUTIFUL WATERS 65 
 
 The dead leaves drift upon the brook; 
 
 The frost- nipt grass droops lowly down; 
 Into the waters the alders look 
 
 And sees naught save their tassels, brown. 
 
 Brief was the summer time just past — 
 Short but sweet the joys that came; 
 
 We struggled hard to hold them fast; 
 Now all that's left is but a name. 
 
 The snow ere long will crown the hills 
 And wintry blasts beat 'gainst the door; 
 
 And glittering ice o'erspreads the rills, 
 With scores of skaters gliding o'er. 
 
 And so the year steals surely by, 
 
 New faces come, then fade away; 
 Springs, Summers, Autumns, Winters fly, 
 
 That seem, since here, but yesterday. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL WATERS. 
 
 IgEAUTIFUL waters gliding by, 
 
 Sparkling under the summer sky; 
 Calm thy surface and gentle thy waves, 
 Flirting with rocks and fairy caves; 
 Beautiful waters, wealth untold. 
 Draughts delightful, pure as gold. 
 
66 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 Beautiful waters flowing along. 
 Through the valley with rippling song; 
 Lovers listen, with maidens fair, 
 Pledging vows so true so dear; 
 Day after day thy currents glide, 
 Ever onward to ocean's tide. 
 
 Beautiful waters, so fresh, so free. 
 Health and blessings abide with thee: 
 Happiness laughs from within the cup, 
 Sorrow comes not to those that sup; 
 But Peace and Pleasure and sacred Love, 
 Beautiful waters, thy virtues prove. 
 
 Beautiful waters flow on, flow on. 
 Send back murmurs to me alone; 
 Silent and grand from the fountain burst, 
 Quenching with gladness those that thirst: 
 And ever with cheerfulness, onward glide 
 Beautiful waters to ocean's tide 
 
 LINES TO M- 
 
 AeCCMPANYING A PICTURE. 
 
 jfi& NO I can never forget thee, 
 
 Thy face, thy voice or thy smile; 
 In dreaming or waking they're with me, 
 And many lone hours beguile. 
 
TO IRENE. H7 
 
 I wonder had we ne'er been parted, 
 
 If life would have seemed more bright, 
 
 If my heart would have ceased its longing, 
 My days have passed in delight. 
 
 There's something mysterious that tells me 
 
 Our paths together should twine; 
 But fate has cruelly severed 
 
 My soul from a union with thine. 
 
 We'll never again meet as lovers, 
 
 Though memory will oft turn to thee; 
 
 This keepsake I send as a token: 
 Thy face is e'er present with me. 
 
 TO IRENE 
 
 ^PHE heart of man e'er seeks to tind 
 
 The one fair woman, his soul's ideal, 
 Whose virtuous beauty will oft reveal. 
 The nearest perfect womankind. 
 
 Through crowded streets I anxious roved, 
 
 To seek the idol of my dream; 
 
 And from the brightness of the name, 
 Discovered her I long had loved. 
 
 Thy flashing eyes, the raven hair 
 
 That borders proudly thy pure brow; 
 
68 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 The rosy lips with health aglow, 
 Thy graceful form divinely fair. 
 
 All charms the human mind requires, 
 Around thy being congregate; 
 And there content I am to wait, 
 
 Till thou shalt grant my heart's desires. 
 
 There is a mystic tie that draws 
 Divided hearts, each other, near; 
 For kindred souls will meet somewhere, 
 
 And only destiny knows the cause. 
 
 IF I COULD LOOK. 
 
 2| F I could look far down the stream of time, 
 ® Into the future that is beyond. 
 And pierce the sky of that mysterious clime 
 That prophets penetrate with magic wand, 
 And see the changes that lie in wait — 
 
 Of trials and triumphs to which we are heirs ; 
 How glad I'd warn thee of impending fate, 
 Nor let joy find thee unawares. 
 
 Tis best, perhaps, but in our haste we fail 
 
 To own the righteousness of Nature's laws ; 
 Yet on the pretext that humanity is frail. 
 We see the full effect, but not the cause 
 
MY BELIEF, 69 
 
 Of all the mishaps that daily come 
 
 To each ; man to complain was born. 
 Whether mid wealth or poverty his home. 
 
 And sober reasoning laughs to scorn. 
 
 Yet, if I could look far down the stream. 
 
 And catch a glimpse of sorrow on the way, 
 I would not waste an hour in idle dream, 
 
 But glad I'd be to gild thy dawning day; 
 Friendship's a tie too sacred to reject, 
 
 For life's a battlefield from end to end ; 
 Noblest of all, too noble to suspect, 
 
 Is he who strives to be another's friend. 
 
 MY BELIEF. 
 
 ^ JBjO I believe." you ask, "in a Devil ?" 
 Well, now ! 
 'Tis a question, I vow 
 That seems a little uncivil ; 
 For the proof is given in many a way 
 That the Devil is present every day. 
 
 Long ago he entered some swine 
 Which leaped 
 Into the sea, and swept 
 
 Them off on the foaming brine ; 
 
 But he managed somehow to navigate back, 
 
 With his horns and hoofs and infernal pack. 
 
70 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 He has vassals, both wealthy and poor. 
 
 They work, 
 
 And none shirk 
 The duty that's laid at their door ; 
 In church, in society, even at home 
 They triumph and shroud the true heart in gloom. 
 
 With his cunning he lured mother Eve 
 
 From the path 
 
 Of right : and he hath 
 Plenty of shrewdness left. I believe. 
 To capture us all, both sinner and saint, 
 And laugh at the ladies who'd purposely faint. 
 
 Deacon Jones, who prays night and day, 
 
 Will cheat 
 
 And sw^ar — don't entreat— 
 I'm saying what others can say : 
 Yet he prays that health and riches be given, 
 And hopes sometime to fly up to Heaven. 
 
 There's Brown's wife, who lives on the hill, 
 
 She's an imp. 
 
 And not skimp 
 Of deceit, nor of Hon nee. or of frill ; 
 She can shout and sing louder. I venture to bet. 
 Than any six angels that Moody could get, 
 
 The truth is quite plain to my mind 
 That a spirit 
 Which we inherit 
 
SING TO ME, LOVE. 71 
 
 Makes man what he was not designed; 
 A hypocrite, villian, murderer and thief, 
 Short-lived his pleasures and endless his grief. 
 
 Ah ! Satan's abroad in the laud ; 
 
 And to day, 
 
 I dare say, 
 He has half the world at command, 
 And the proof is given every hour 
 Of his wonderful strange and subtle power. 
 
 SING TO ME, LOVE. 
 
 aING to me, love, some song of the olden; 
 
 Sing of the time when life was all golden; 
 Sing of the days ere sorrow and sadness 
 Clouded the sky of my joy and my gladness. 
 
 Daylight is dying but love never ceases 
 
 To shine in the heart, and shining, increases; 
 
 A thrill of delight accompanies thy voice 
 
 That brightens my being and makes me rejoice. 
 
 Sing to me, love, while my arms infold thee; 
 Light of my soul! 'tis life to behold thee, 
 Lean on the bosom that shelters but one 
 Proud of the jewel that is mine alone. 
 
72 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 Sing to me, love, a song that will charm me, 
 Here thou'rt safe, no evil can harm thee 
 Screened from the world — its sorrow and pain 
 Never to roam lest I lose thee again. 
 
 WINTER. 
 
 ARK to the wind as it sighs round our dwelling, 
 Each chilly blast steals through window and door; 
 It rattles the shutters as if it was telling 
 
 That Autumn's bright davs have trone evermore ; 
 That over the meadow 
 It's receding shadow 
 Reluctantly steps from its recent domain, 
 It stops at the fountains. 
 Then away o'er the mountains 
 Shouts ''farewell." till it comes back again. 
 
 The snow and the ice, dear friends of December. 
 
 Have hidden the verdure, the brook's pebbly bed ; 
 They cover the graves of those we remember — 
 A crystallized garment enveloping the dead. 
 
 As the frosts grow crisper, 
 
 The tall pines whisper, 
 So gently, their sorrows to the listening moon : 
 
 The snow -clad mountains, 
 
 And ice bound fountains, 
 Will sparkle beneath the glad sun at noon. 
 
HA YTNG. 73 
 
 O, Winter, we hail thee with joy and good feeling, 
 Though dreary the eartb, yet pleasures abound ; 
 And soft on the air the music comes stealing 
 In beautiful notes and harmonious sound. 
 
 The sledges glide merrily, 
 
 And voices ring cheerily 
 As over the crust they speedily ero ; 
 
 Away with all sadness ! 
 
 Let the echoes bring gladness. 
 And happy hearts welcome the glittering snow. 
 
 I 
 
 HAYING. 
 
 *HE birds sang sweet on every tree. 
 
 High in the branches swinsrinsr, 
 They charmed us till we stopped to see 
 
 The reason of their sinfirine 1 : 
 The sun shone warm on field and wood 
 
 The fairy sunbeams straying, 
 Enwrapped us like a golden Hood 
 
 When Maud and I went haying. 
 
 Two rakes we carried, though I own 
 Mine staid upon my shoulder; 
 
 So fascinated I had grown. 
 
 That e'en my heart grew bolder ; 
 
 From underneath her gipsy hat 
 
 Her face, where smiles kept playing. 
 
74 DRIFT WOOD. 
 
 Betrayed the throne where Beauty sat — 
 When Maud and I went haying. 
 
 We talked of love and married life, 
 
 But never thought of labor. 
 And longed when I could call her •"wife," 
 
 Instead of "little neighbor ;" 
 We did not heap the scattered grass, 
 
 But o'er the stubbles straying, 
 So swiftly did the moments pass 
 
 When Maud and I went haying. 
 
 And when we rested 'neath the shade, 
 
 I told the old., old story. 
 That has for man a heaven made 
 
 Or endless purgatory; 
 We sealed our pledges with a kiss. 
 
 That has with me been staying, 
 Through hours of sorrow or of bliss 
 
 Since Maud and I went haying. 
 
 O. harvest suns that shine so bright 
 
 O'er hills and grassy meadows, 
 Sweet odors greet the morning light 
 
 And mourn the evening's shadows. 
 For love is young and life is sweet. 
 
 And half its work is playing: 
 The years have never past as fleet 
 
 Since Maud and I went having. 
 
WHAT THE BELLS SA Y. 75 
 
 WHAT THE BELLS SAY. 
 
 lifffmm to Church! Come to Church !" the noisy 
 
 bells said. 
 As they swung to and fro high over my head ; 
 Out on the night their hoarse music rose, 
 And startled the swallows and bats from repose ; 
 'Till fainter, and fainter, each note seemed to grow, 
 Then was lost in the stillness and darkness below. 
 
 Those bells never ring but they bring to my mind 
 The days of my youth — the friends I'll ne'er tind, 
 And the sorrows that burden my heart every time, 
 Destroys all the pleasure and saddens each chime ; 
 For memory plays truant, and recklessly tells 
 My innermost thoughts to the loud-clashing bells. 
 
 Though I heed not their language, their truthful advice, 
 There's a warning within that I dare not despise ; 
 A something that speaks to my heart : ''You are wrong, 
 Much good is contained in a sermon or song, 
 Though the parson is not as you'd have him to be, 
 Just do as he says, then your conscience is free." 
 
 Though we skeptical grow on some points of each faith, 
 Every difference is hid in the realms of death, 
 And the man who upholds his way to be best, 
 Is condemned as a bigot and fails in the test ; 
 
76 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 For no one is perfect they've a chance to be wrong, 
 And watch wily satan or he'll hire them along. 
 
 Those bells say the church is the shield and the sword, 
 
 That can save every mortal who marches on board ; 
 
 But how many hypocrites cover their sins 
 
 "With a long face and prayer as each Sabbath begins, 
 
 In hopes that some innocent brother may fall 
 
 In the meshes that caught the best of all. 
 
 If I had the power I*d have them to say : 
 
 Do good to each other, love your neighbor and pray; 
 
 This life is too earnest, man never can be 
 
 A fool for his passions, and his shackles not see ; 
 
 Deception and selfishness will soon lead astray, 
 
 And damn their victims to eternity's day. 
 
 "Do right ! Do right !" is what they should ring : 
 Let churches and creeds their hypocrisies sing ; 
 For knowledge has dawned and ignorace tied. 
 Man's sorrow will cease so soon as he's dead. 
 And doctrines, beliefs, future punishments, too. 
 Are unknown in that land far beyond the ble. 
 
 SIDNEY LANIER. 
 
 "Hang up hie harp; he'll wake do more; 
 He sleeps the sleep of death." 
 
 — Eliza Cook. 
 
 N vain he wooed Hygeia's smile. 
 
 To give him back the priceless ijfift : 
 
 1 
 
SIDNEY LANIER. 77 
 
 And pledged allegiance to beguile 
 
 Her promises: e'er to lift 
 The clouds that had obscured his toil, 
 
 And from his darkened pathway drift. 
 
 "Too late! too late!" the Goddess said, 
 
 "Too long- my warnings thou hast scorned; 
 
 Upon thy genius Death has fed. 
 
 And all thv fond desires are burned 
 
 Within thee: all thy hopes are fled — 
 Thy fate is truely, sadly mourned." 
 
 O God! that useful men should die 
 
 So soon: while sluggards live to be 
 Three -score and ten. and e ? en defy 
 
 The extreme of mortality: 
 O why ? we ask is't wrong to try 
 
 To fathom this great mystery ? 
 
 Loved poet, scholar, teacher, friend! 
 
 He could not master ruthless death; 
 As day by day he neared the end, 
 
 One hand clasped Fame's immortal wreath; 
 Yet Life refused new strength to lend. 
 
 And snapped the the frail chords with a breath. 
 
 Sadly they linger 'round his tomb — 
 
 Mourners whose hearts beat with regret; 
 Brightest of hopes o'ercast with gloom. 
 
78 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 And vain is the trial to forget 
 The tearful eyes, the lonely home 
 Of those whom sorrow hath beset. 
 
 LINES. 
 
 ON LEAVING BLOOMFIELD ACADEMY. 
 
 ^J*HE day lias come, the hour is here, 
 
 When I must say farewell; 
 Although a. smile I seem to wear, 
 
 I scarce can hide the gathering tear. 
 And why, I cannot tell. 
 
 1 gaze from out my cheerful room, 
 
 And hail the joyful scene: 
 The orchard trees, the flowers in bloom. 
 That waft to me their sweet perfume, 
 
 From meadows smiling green. 
 
 The village rests in peace below, 
 
 No sounds the stillness break, 
 I from these walks reluctant go, 
 Dear teachers and companions too. 
 
 Each, one and all. forsake. 
 
 Out in the world my pathway leads. 
 
 Life's battles to contend, 
 May knowledge guard my thoughts ami deeds, 
 Though hopes should fade as youth recedes. 
 
 Strive harder till the end. 
 
THE RAIN 79 
 
 Beloved halls, thy half-hour bell 
 Will call me nevermore; 
 
 But should I from thee distant dwell. 
 With truest love my heart shall swell 
 And worship days of yore. 
 
 THE RAIN. 
 
 2J|j| AIN ! rain ! rain ! 
 
 ^— Beating drearily "gainst the pane; 
 All day long I've heard you tapping. 
 Seems like one continued rapping — 
 
 Methinks you are insane 
 To keep a constant slapping 
 
 On my window pane 
 
 I have listened to your rattling, 
 Endless as a vixen's tattling, 
 
 And the echo sounds throughout the room, 
 As a sinful soul tormented. 
 I have oftentimes repented, 
 Believing I would be contented 
 
 In sunshine or in gloom : 
 
 And when I hear the beating. 
 And no hope of your retreating, 
 Then I promise you a greeting 
 
 When some other time von come. 
 
80 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 Splash ! splash ! splash ! 
 
 Sond thy torrents in a dash, 
 Down the hill and over fallow. 
 Fill the brook that runs so shallow. 
 
 Sweep obstructions with a crash: 
 Swifter than the nimble swallow. 
 
 Drive them onward bold and rash. 
 
 Dash against the window lattice 
 
 Give your entertainments gratis. 
 Though I never will appreciate the tune ; 
 
 Pledging you my firm allegiance. 
 
 If it is no inconvenience. 
 You will take a hasty night at noon: 
 
 When I languish for diversion. 
 
 Or my conscience claims immersion, 
 
 I'll welcome you without aspersion, 
 Otherwise you'll come too soon. 
 
 A GREETING. 
 
 <^1KK ye all here? Are ye all here? 
 The good, the gay. the bright ? 
 Are ye all here '." Are ye all here 
 To welcome each fnend to-night? 
 
 The lights bunt high whilst round theboarcL 
 We meet with happy mien. 
 
A GREETING 81 
 
 And clasp the hand of stranger guest 
 
 To keep our friendship green. 
 New faces are among the throng. 
 
 With hearts both brave and true. 
 And Honor could not recognize 
 
 One smile but what he knew. 
 
 New faces! Ah, where are the old? 
 
 Amidst the world's best joys, 
 Pain and pleasure go hand in hand — - 
 
 The gold mixed with alloys; 
 But who would grieve for hours past ? 
 
 The Present's what we prize; 
 The Future's dark, tho' this we know; 
 
 Man's born, he lives, he dies. 
 
 Our lot is what we make it here, 
 
 Fate sometimes interferes; 
 But want of pluck and earnestness 
 
 Oft brings regrets and tears: 
 For tight we must if we would win — 
 
 The struggle once o'ereome. 
 The foe retires from the field 
 
 And trophies grace each home. 
 
 The path of life is just as smooth 
 
 To-day as years gone by; 
 Some trials gather round us still 
 
 And clouds o'ercast the sky. 
 Oh for the bravery of old 
 
DBIFTWOOD. 
 
 In this the freeman's clime. 
 To teach us purest loyalty 
 And cowardice a crime, 
 
 To lift our hopes above the tide, 
 
 Our aspirations raise. 
 To work and strive for nobler things, 
 
 Though tardy the world's praise. 
 And blest will he the gliding years 
 
 The harvest rich and grand, 
 Whose ripened fruits of deeds well done, 
 
 Aie praised throughout the land. 
 
 Some brows ara furrowed o'er with can'. 
 
 Some head- are turning gray; 
 Some forms are bending down with toil. 
 
 That gathers <>n the way; 
 And some will gain the dazzling crown 
 
 (>n Fame's delusive height; 
 And some will stop at the wayside inn. 
 
 To rest through Death's long night. 
 
 Then laugh and shout for life is sweet, 
 
 Pour f<»rth the cheering wine: 
 We'll drink to all the absent one- 
 
 For sake of old lane; syne; 
 And never let ingratitude 
 
 Be shown toward each other; 
 But be in name and kindly deed, 
 
 A friend as well as brother. 
 
AT THE MAYOR'S OFFICE 
 
 ALL FOE THEE. 
 
 '|LL for tbee— I boldly lay 
 
 My love, my honor, at thy feet ; 
 What care I what the world may say 
 
 So I thy fond caresses greet; 
 I know 'tis wrong and yet I feel 
 
 Thy love is light and life to me: 
 There's naught on earth will I conceal — 
 
 'Tis all for thee. yes. all for thee. 
 
 All for thee — Is't useless? Then 
 
 Why tempt me thus to sacrifice 
 A noble love, and bear the sin 
 
 Of doing what thou wouldst despise? 
 No. ah no, I'll ue'er believe 
 
 Thy heart is treacherous to me. 
 Though dark the future, I'll not grieve 
 
 'Tis all for thee yes. all for thee. 
 
 AT THE MAYOE'S OFFICE. 
 
 ^gftNLY a tramp, Your Honor. 
 Old and ragged and poor. 
 
 Arrested for beo-o-inor a morsel 
 Of bread from door to door. 
 
84 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 Brought here by two policemen, 
 
 In glittering uniform, 
 Guarding a helpless vagrant. 
 
 As if he could do them harm. 
 
 Thirty days, did you say"" You're generous; 
 
 But then the roads are bad, 
 M \ shoes are old and leaking. 
 
 My coat, like my heart, looks sad. 
 Not always a tram)). Your Honor! 
 
 Ah. I would have scorned the day 
 Had a youthful friend e'er told me 
 
 That I would he served this way. 
 
 Did I once have a home? Oh. spare me 
 
 The pain such a ques.ion brings, 
 It seems there's no escaping 
 
 Remorse and its pitiless stings. 
 When I slept last night in the lock-up 
 
 I dreamed of my wife and child — 
 But they died long ago of sorrow. 
 
 When rum first made me wild. 
 
 Alone in the world I've battled 
 
 Gainst the fruits of my folly and sin; 
 
 Spurned from the doors of my kindred, 
 Not one who would take me in. 
 
 (lone is my pride and my manhood. 
 
 And the gladness that once tilled my heart, 
 
LP TILE DELAWARE. 85 
 
 A vagrant, so hopeless and homeless 
 Even I at my loneliness start. 
 
 Thirty days! why the spring birds 
 
 Will be singing when I get free; 
 The children will welcome their coming 
 
 But none have a welcome for me. 
 You're kind, and I know it's your duty 
 
 To send me to jail as you've said, 
 'Tis hard we should be imprisoned 
 
 For asking acrust of bread. 
 
 &j 
 
 UP THE DELAWARE. 
 
 IN(t the bell! let the steamer move swiftly away, 
 Through the Brandywine's waters, out into the bay, 
 Where the tide, fast receding, beats hard 'gainst the 
 prow. 
 
 But 'tis helpless to hinder as onward we go. 
 
 On deck 'neath the canvas that wards of the sun, 
 We draw our chairs closely and join in the fun, 
 For we three are happy and never take heed. 
 To the noise of the paddles or the vessels wild speed. 
 
 J Tis a pleasure to sail on the deep river's breast, 
 And with us the friends who are dearest and best, 
 And open our hearts to the pleadings of faith ; 
 To trust while we live and remember in death. 
 
86 DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 Remembering is blessed, and often we cling 
 To the past's golden days of which poets all sing, 
 And the present is what we would have it to be; 
 A charm unexcelled when in company with thee. 
 
 Flow on dark river but bear not away, 
 The faces I love and with whom I would stay; 
 For friends are too precious, too needful, too few, 
 To spare one kind heart from those that are true.