LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Chap.._.L.. Copyright 5o.,_..^ UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. ||;!'|i|ii{i||||||{jjl|IP iiiil iiiliiliillillHIIIIIlliihihiiilli m I ii:i!i|!lir-;-:i!l'ij! MM ®ut of a Slither jflute. J TKc Flcup dc Lb Poet^. • — — a OVT Of-A i • * • i i • i SILV&R.rLVT& ^Y- PHILIP VtRRlLL'^IGHtLS- NEW YORK. J. SDLWIN TAIT ANP SONS, NVMPE-R SIXTY- FIVE FIPTH AVENUE. • i • i ■f^^vC)^ -^^T-^ vs^ 3 o.Q% Copyright, 1896 J. SELWIN TAIT &. SONS New York All Kisrhis Rgsfr7ed DcMcatton. tro jeiia. My sou/ through births and deaths pro- cessioned on The progress way, ambition - spurred ; but, ohy It glides so swiftly since you brought the dawn A7td made white -lilied aspirations grow I Contents. (^uatrain0. Page. The Sunset, . . 8 In California, 8 God's Making. The Mountains, . 9 The Prairie, 9 The Sea, . 10 The Sky, . 10 The Indian Summer, . . 11 The Jelly-Fish, . 11 Life's Attributes. The Mind, . 13 The Heart, 12 The Soul, . 13 Love, . . • 13 The Flood, . 14 To-Day, .... 14 Two Goddesses We Make. Satiety, . 15 Moderation, 15 Effort, . 16 Poetry, .... . 16 _ Sonnets. Eternity. Page. The Heart, 18 The Mind, . 19 The Soul, . 20 A Woman, . . • . . 21 Why? .... 22 ♦The Spirit of Christmas, . . 23 'TwAS Kadiga was Great, . . 24 Sympathy, .... 25 The Obelisk in Central Park, . 26 Stone and Soul, <, 27 The Sacrifice, . 28 Let There be Light, 29 The Sun, . . . . . 30 God's Voice, . . , 31 1Ront»eaur, A Thousand Years Ago, I Would Not Have Thee Change, The Velvet of Thy ILvnds, The Dawn That's in Thine Eyes, fTHY Regal Heart, . ft There's No Escape, tTHE Night we Traded Rings, She Sings of Love, ft She Reads His Note, ttSuE Answered Yes, . 33 34 . 35 37 . 39 40 . 41 43 . 45 47 CONTENTS. ft When Baby Smiles, When Jabv Learns to Kiss, Pagb. . 49 61 Miscellaneous. I Dreamed of Love, . 53 The Organ's Love, . , 57 The Nigiit-Skater, . 60 God's Sun, .... 61 Pre-Emption, . . 63 All About It, . 63 The Wedding-Ring, . . 65 An Olden Memory Came, 67 +tTHE Bachelor Song, . 70 ft The Men Who Live Alone, . 71 ttA Bachelor Toast, 72 ft Ten Fingers, . 74 The Glow in the Grate, 75 It Shall Not Pass, . . 77 Why Should I Live? . 78 *Au IIevoir, . . 80 » Published in Chips. + Published in Judge. + t Published in Vanity. ©uatraina* XLbc SnnecU Old Sol dipped low, and red through clouds he burst, And all adown a ripple path he trod 'Till lo ! 'gainst purple lights appeared — reversed — The golden exclamation point of God ! irn California. Great lines of mountain peaks against the sky Like God's eternal, vast chirography Appear ; but raised in huge solemnity Great Shasta stands an awe-inspiring I. (5o&'0 rtbaftliifl. THE MOUNTAINS. The huge-wrought, sinew-guarded veins And arteries that gird the world and spread The blood of melting snows and myriad rains, Peak-garnered from the cloudy foun- tain head. THE PRAIRIE. An inland sea of acres broad, and where The undulating grassy billows leap Exultantly ; and far away, and fair, A schooner braves the mystic, West ern deep. (5oD'0 /JBaftlng. THE SEA. Thou art the vast and pulsing heart of earth, Twice daily swelled in adoration of The sun and moon, and thy emotion's birth Betrays Earth's inmost calms and storms of love. THE SKY. The forehead dome of Mother Nature thou, Whereon her smiles and cloud-black frowns are wrought Unceasingly ; and Night above thy brow Strews diadems inspiring upward thought. 10 dbc iruDian Summer. God's jewel days! His flawless jewel days That flash in diamond and in ruby rays And golden topaz tints, and each and all Bright polished on the sharp frost-wheel of Fall. nbc Jem^ffi6b, A dainty — soft, impalpable caress, Transparent, tinged with rain-bow tints, and this Tide-launched to nestle in a Sea- Nymph's tress, For lo ! 'tis love-sick Neptune's wave- lorn kiss. Xlfc'0 Bttrlbutee. THE MIND. God-planted light whose rays, dispelling Doubt, Illume the paths and days of age and youth. But oh ! if e'er 'tis dimmed, or — worse — put out. What piteous wrecks drift far and far from Truth. THE HEART. A garden spot where orchids, like to Love, By gaudy weeds are always choked for room. But Gard'ner Conscience, standing all above. Can always say which dies and which shall bloom. Xitc's Bttiibutes. THE SOUL. A hopeful, clinging Plant that every day Starts forth afresh, its roots in human sod, And ever nears its bloss'ming; — 'tis a stray And wind-blown seed — a very germ of God. LOVE. Not anything of lust and greed and fire, But balm of gentleness untold, and whole Unselfishness, — aye, infinitely higher — The Pollen from the blossoms of the Soul! Jibe jflooD. 'Tis said that all was wrong ; — mayhap 'twas fears Of worse to come God had, who saw the plights ; And then He drowned the whole in mighty tears — For lo ! He wept for forty days and nights. Return to earth, oh Jesus Christ ! for here Is vastest need of miracle divine; Speak Thou Thy word o'er reeking floods of wine And turn them back to water, pure and clear ! 14 SATIETY. Faustina gorged, her lips and eyes in- flamed, Hands goblet after goblet, cloyed with wine, Until her glutted victim's sense is maimed, And manly hunger, sotted, falls supine. MODERATION. Octavia, earthly spark of Heavenly fire. Dispenses nectar drop by drop, and they. The thirsty souls that drink — and know Desire — Climb ever Fountainward the lofty way. Bffort. The Plain of Mediocrity is wide, Its fruits grow cheap and green be- neath the sun, But oh ! bethink, before you there abide. The best is always waiting to be won ! Like summer-seeking birds that cross the skies In mile-high flocks, ten thousand poems wing Athwart the vault of thought ; and up- ward flies My arrowed pen, and fells — one tiny, wounded, trembling thing. i« Sonneta^ ♦ Btcrnitis. THE HEART. Oh ! had I in my hands the power to make Or choose the great Beyond which death will bring; To fix the compensation for the sting Of Life, what endless heaven would I take ? Why not a blossom be, and care forsake, And love forever, Hke a perfume, fling To saddened hearts ; to make the children sing And laugh ; and oh ! to see a joy awake In sunken, weary eyes ; to greet the morn With dewy smiles ; to glad some desert spot Where tired feet must tread; to ever be In matchless lovliness returned — reborn; To always live and love — oh were this not A peaceful, sweet and bright Eternity ? 18 Etcrtiltc* THE MIND. Alas, though sweet and much, this is not all That heavenly joy could be, could I but choose; For, drifted on the storm, the flowers lose Their path and may 'mid ugly briars fall; And, always on the ground, their joy must pall. No, let me as a bird with morning's dews Arise each lovely day, and let the muse Of rapturous song be in my heart to call Forth joy and life in every woeful breast ; Give me the wings, volition's slaves, to bear Me ever where the summer's day may be. What though I've knowledge none, ^twill be a rest To lay the burden down ; in God's sweet air To live and sing for all Eternity. 19 Eternity. THE SOUL. Oh blissful, only Heaven! not birds nor flowers Art thou, nor selfish joy, nor harps, nor gold. Thou art of meekness and of love untold — Unknown, unpracticed in this vale of showers, And far beyond these darkened lives of ours. Oh grant to me when death shall next unfold The binding husks, a heart no longer cold, And send me back, but not to Summer bowers Nor happiness, but let me come again To earth with soul so great that suffering Is joy, and here, 'mid deepest misery Of struggling little children, women, men, Let me relieve, partake of everything, Until I shall deserve Eternity. 20 B 'Moman. Maid she was not, as years decree, but, deep Within, her heart was maiden young, for so Hearts ever were and are; nor did she know What pangs and loves a mother's soul may keep. No wife she was, nor sister, and her sleep Ne'er brought a dream of times when, long ago, She held a daughter's place and shared young woe With one whose eyes could smile or sweetly weep In sympathy ; but God, in whispering wind, Had called her Daughter, and, with soul abloom, She made herself a Sister to the tried And spent; nor ceased until for human kind She lived a Mother's life, and ban- ished gloom, And lo ! Joy made her Wife before she died. Why is it that the groansome loads of Fate Are thrust, not on the shoulders, broad and strong, Of beings swart and big, who daily throng The ways of Life, but on the Souls that late Have staggered, spent and tired, from burdens great. And now deserve the laurel which their long And patient suff'ring earned ? It seems all wrong ! Why cannot Fate attack its size and mate ? Great God ! — perhaps it does ; perhaps the weak. Refined and pure, are ablest, after all To bear the thorns and briers that abound In heaven's path ; and when they — aching, meek — Complete the task some obstacle must fall. And Souls of Men advance another round. 23 Zbc Spirit of Cbriatmaa* Again the old, young day that gave to earth The Man embodying the Godliness That's in us all ; again the day we bless For charities and gifts and hours of mirth. But oh, before the year that gave Him birth, The world — that heeded sorrow, knew distress — Possessed its heavenly gift, for noth- ing less It had in mothers, sisters, wives, whose worth Is scarce conceded. Yet they labor on, Performing miracles whose daily pain Puts death to shame. And when I see them triced On home-made crosses from the dawn to dawn. Enduring all, and less in sun than rain, I say, t/ie world is full of Jesus Christ! 88 'trwaa IkaOlga "Wllas (3rcat. Mohammed, with a mind God-budded, wise While yet but spring-time's leafy hours he wore, Wed Kadiga, his elder by a score Of years, and she, whose clear pro- phetic eyes Saw deep, gave autumn fruits that he might rise ; And she alone a mother's anguish bore, Of all his wives. In later years, while sore With jealousy, Ayesha, false, with sighs, Said, "Kadiga was old, 'twas well she died," But oh his tears rebuked the speech. Said he, " My only mate she was — my dear- est Fate That gave me strength and soul, and at my side She lives ; in everything she guided me — Oh Kadiga ! 'twas thou wert truly great !" 24 Sgmpatbij. Within a glen, a pine — perhaps too proud — Stood towering up, and lowly plants that crept Grew all aloof. One night the hill was swept By mighty breaths of Jove, and then aloud Broke forth his cannon-voice and from a cloud His bolt, air-rending, terrifying, leapt To smite the tree, and when the heavens wept They laved a riven trunk which, shat- tered, cowed, Shook fearfully. Late came the morn, but bright It shone, all menace gone. And lo ! the vines, • The timid, loving vines, approach to see And climb and kiss the wounds and hide from sight The lightning-blasted torse, and each entwines And clings through storm and shine in Sympathy. 25 Ube Obcli6}\ in Central patft. Transplanted thing of days and peoples dead And gone, how full of mystic dignity Thou art ; how hard and long and stubbornly Thy granite holds thy signs, which not the tread Of mighty Time stamps out ; — and yet, the thread Of occult writings once engraved on thee Is broke, for on that side which knew no lee From constant — biting winds, a single shred Of deep-cut things remains. Perhaps that side Was wrought with idols vain, a crude array That mocked at heav'n and all the truths that be — ; And then the sands of Him swirled fierce to chide, And plane the carvings off — as if He'd say, '* Thou shall not have another God than Me! " 2G stone an& SouL (On seeing the picture : "Napoleon before the Sphinx.") Behold great Bonaparte as there he stands And gazes on the Sphinx, whose soli- tude No vaster than his own can be ; whose rude Rough-sculptured mystery, half hid in sands, Lone rival is to his; whose face commands A fellowship with all this awesome mood By ages gone bequeathed ; and there its nude Hewn paws extends in welcome to his hands. Oh wondrous pile and mighty, that defies The sand-toothed blast, and Time's austere attack! Thou shalt dissolve and crumble down to dust, Ere age shall touch that Soul that through the skies Of great eternity goes gladly back. Refined and chaste, to God and Love and Trust. Ubc Sacrificed. Incessant Sea, I hear you pound and pound Upon your shores of sharp, unyielding stones, And hear your mighty roar, your sobbing moans, As wave on wave 'gainst jagged cliff is ground And churned to foam. Yea, too, I hear the sound Of anguish-smitten men whose million bones Are smashed and wrecked on Doubt; and naught atones For Individual woes — yet all are bound To break, as waves, and do their meager mite For one grand common good. And look ! behold ! The granite's edge is rounded by the teeth Of unrelenting seas that day and night Grind on ; and Doubt, the grim, the dark, the cold. By Thought is worn — and under- neath is Truth. %et Cbere JSe Xlgbt. Long distant times apart there came to Earth A Buddha and a Christ, and these, to save The peoples groping there, their wis- dom gave And Uves. And now again a mighty dearth Of goodness reigns, and greed and kist have birth Of Ignorance — than which no greater knave E'er stalked abroad or held as help- less slave The Soul of Man. Oh God! what is the worth Of all the creeds which ever fail to reach The multitudes in darkness ? Make the blaze Of education scatter wide the night. That we may not to senseless sinners preach ! O Thou, the Great, Almighty One, upraise Thy voice again and cry, ''Let There be LigJit ! ' ' Zbc Sun. "The Sun has set," we sigh, "and oh ! 'tis drear And chill, and night comes down," — or else we say "Behold it rise in purple mists, and day- Spread far and soft and bright ! " Suns do appear To rise and set, but oh ! they're shining clear And always bright— 'tis Earth that turns away And makes its bleak and then, anon, its gay Warm hours and days. Thus too, though joy be near And steadfast m its gleams, we turn and turn And get its beams where shadows gloomed before; But all the while, behind, a darkness lies To blend its edge with light's, and though we yearn To have on every side our sunshine pour, It must be best as 'tis, for God is wise. eot>*6 iDoice. Vast space — unsearched, forbidding, full of dread And mystery — affrighted very light ; And cavern glooms were fountain heads of night And awesomeness ; and e'en the pulsing tread Of Time came not — a region for the dead Of universes 'twas, whose dreary plight Originated misery and blight Of hopes, and doubt, but when all hope was fled Behold ! a sound vibrating through the air, Exploring inmost cells — which naught before Had reached — shook atoms down with deafening jars, And piled them hugely, mass on mass, and there. When Sound had finished, chaos was no more. For lo ! God's voice it was, creating stars ! 31 1RonJ)eauj:. B ^bouaauD l^care B90. RONDEAU. A thousand years ago and thou and I, Who loved each other then and knew not why, Were thrust apart, and in my place stood he, Who, blind to all of Fate's affinity, Possessed thee, caged — a bird denied the sky. I saw the eons pass, the centuries die. And waited ; well I knew the mystic tie Of Love would last that bound both you and me A thousand years ago. And now our Union-Time the gods supply ; 'Twas worth the patience, worth the while to vie With Time, but wer't not yet for years to be. So much I love that I would wait for thee As once before I did — with just a sigh — A thousand years ago. 33 ■ff MoulD 1Rot 1bave Zbcc Cbangci RONDEAU, I would not have thee change a single way Of thine, howbeit, if or sad or gay Or set to mystic strains that bind me o'er And o'er again — nay, though thy power is more And subtler far than that of elfin fay. And when thine eyes express the gen- tlest nay To hasteful love, and bid it trembling stay And quietly approach the sacred door — I would not have thee change. For oh ! dear heart ! it seems as if a ray Of brightness rare thou art, and this, the day You let me come within thy heart to pour My love, Fm lifted up to almost soar With thee and from my inmost soul I say, I would not have thee change. trbe Velvet of ^bs ijanDs* RONDEAU. The velvet of thy hands, as chaste as snow, But warm and soft and all with health aglow, Enchants me quite ; small wonder that in bliss I hold them both, nor deem it comes amiss To touch, caress them, tenderly and slow. No fabrics done in silks, no downs that blow From wings of bees, as zephyr tossed they go The orchard blossoms through, com- pares with this — The velvet of thy hands. tibc IDelvct of XLb^ 1ban&5. And on the night when first I found them so, Ethralled I stood and bended down, and oh ! They throbbed so gently 'neath the lingering kiss ; And now 'twould plunge me deep in woe's abyss If thou shouldst say I must not touch nor know The velvet of thy hands. 36 Ubc Dawn crbat's Hn Zbinc iB^ce, RONDEAU. The dawn that's in thine eyes, ah gently bright, Breaks forth and floods thy cheeks with rosy hght And tints of pink, and leaves the softest gray In dimple nooks and 'neath thy chin to play In winsomeness that charms my linger- ing sight. Then Love, like birds that sweetest songs indite To morning's birth, sings forth with all its might To plead and plead thou wilt not turn away The dawn that's in thine eyes. 37 For now my soul's awake and wings its flight To compass what thy sunshine smiles invite ; And when it seems as if Life's golden day Had lost, in clouds, its hope-inspiring ray, I look and see — outsmiling gloom or night — The dawn that's in thine eyes. Zb^ IRcaal Ibeart. RONDEAU. Thy regal heart, which I have dared to woo, Sways such a gentle power and subtly new, That I, republican, am wrought to fall On bended knee, and there to offer all My liberties to monarchy — in you. Strange scepter is it that can thus undo My precepts hard and furnish me, in lieu, A plot to build a throne and there install Thy regal heart. But, dear, I love the change. I love the view Thy ways have opened, and I'll gladly strew The way with blooms that leads within thy hail,— But I'll conspire that you one day shall call A consort to the throne that's built unto Thy regal heart. 39 XLbcvc*6 mo Bscape. RONDEAU. There's no escape for me, for thine Are charms that all my love entwine, And bid it linger close to thee, As zephyrs do to meadow lee — As sighs do to the swaying pine. 'Tis Heaven rules ; should you consign My love to torture, keen and fine, Twould linger, wounded, constantly — There's no escape. But, dear, thy wooing heart benign, Love-haloed, is a mercy shrine At which I kneel on willing knee, And naught can part the chain on me ; Not even death can break the line. There's no escape. RONDEAU. The night we traded rings, the chandelier Poured witching light within thine eyes, and clear And dear they beamed ; we both averred 'Twas just for fun, and yet my heart was stirred Until I thought its tale of throbs you'd hear. We laughing stood, and thou, oh thou wcrt near ! And then I placed my ring, a souvenir Of all, upon thy hand ; strange things occurred The night we traded rings. 41 For since that time thy voice is in mine ear, And something passed that lingers sweetly here Within my soul — for oh ! the things it heard ! And, though wc dared not breathe the tingling word, 'Twas hearts we gave, thine own con- fessed it, dear, The night we traded rings. 42 Sbc Sln<39 ot Xovc. RONDEAU. She sings of love, ah yes, and deems it fair To choose a wooing, sentimental air When Harry comes to call ; but oh ! to hear The sad, sad things — alas, that bring no tear — She sings for those for whom she does not care. Yea, too, and songs of war, until the hair Is like to stand, and suitors harldy dare To breathe; and then, oh strange! when Harry's near She sings of love. Perhaps 'tis chance some songs should bring despair, 43 Sbe BinQ0 of ILove, While cooing things reach forth and hearts ensnare, Who knows ? Mayhap 'tis subtle art, and dear. But, after all, there's only this that's clear. Though war she sings at some, when Harry's there She sings of love. 44 Sbe "KeaDs Ibis "fflote. RONDEAU. She reads his note and smiles, and in her eye Is twinkling light, while tints all pink and shy- Arise to warm her cheeks ; you'd think that he Had penned exceeding well if you could see Her tuck the note away and turn to fly Adown the curving orchard path, where lie Sweet petals dipped in pink, the maiden shy Slips quite alone, and then, all blush- ingly, She reads his note. The butterflies and bees and birds know why Sbe 1ReaD6 fbi6 IWote. Her slender hands keep wandering up to pry The portals o'er her heart. Is love the key That solves the maiden's wondrous mystery ? Who knows? The fiftieth time, with heartsome sigh, She reads his note. Sbe BnawcrcD lc0. RONDEAU. She answered yes, although no word she said Nor whispered shyly, but her nodded head And gleaming eyes were eloquent of thought And sweet consent, while on her lips was nought But smiling yes, that came and coyly fled, The while her hands, in his, dear an- swer sped Straight to his heart ; and then, with sighs instead Of words, to own herself as caught, She answered yes. He wins, yet now he stands with half- real dread Sbc BitBWcreD ^ee. To beg a kiss, to which all-trembling led His faltering words, and then, by- Cupid taught. Love's gentlest plea has coaxed the boon he sought. For — well — dear maid, with lips all blushing red, She. answered yes. mbcn JBab^ Smllca. RONDEAU. When baby smiles 'tis dainty, faint — a stray, Soft dawn of mirth to come — but elders say 'Tis not a smile at all, and laugh to see The mother try to coax and woo the wee, Dim sign that may not come again all day. But then her eyes, that watch the hours away, More keenly see ; and, oh, the lovesome play That 'twixt the two goes blithsomely When baby smiles. And when at last 'tis sure the elfin fay Has really learned, why, then it is that they 49 Timben JBab^ Smiles. Who doubted most are generously free With tribute kisses, and on tireless knee The household bends, and all are sweetly gay, When baby smiles. 60 Mbcn JBabg 3Learns to IRlgg* RONDEAU. When baby learns to kiss and puts her sweet Dear puckered little mouth right up to meet An older one, 'tis like a bud might rise To woo the honey-seeking butterflies, And with the older velvet blooms com pete; 'Tis like the winsome tread of fairy's neat And dainty-touching, blush-compelling feet Upon a sunny beam athwart the skies. When baby learns to kiss. And like it is to dewy touch, so fleet, Of dawn that flushes in her East retreat; For lo, 'tis softly shy and fairy size, And wet as lips of nectar-strewing skies ; And mamma's joy is boundless and complete When baby learns to kiss. 61 fllM0Ccllaneou0» ir Dreamco of %ovc. I dreamed that on a hill serenest Night Descended, and she gently bore away Her dearest sister, Twihght, in her arms. And over all the place she calmly took The sleeper's post to watch for coming dawn. Her million hosts of fairies lightly tripped From out the scented bushes and the trees ; Or stepped with dainty tread from many flowers Till all were come together in the grass. The tiny Queen, whose harshest sum- mons scarce Seemed half as loud as sleeping linnet's sweet And fluttering note within her happy heart. Was gaily answered by a thousand slaves IT DrcamcD of Xove< Whose only bonds were friendship's silken cords ; And these illumed their lamps and, skimming o'er The reaching, longing petals and the fays, They lighted up the wondrous grassy halls Where all could dance to crickets' cheer- ful tunes. Then came thic blushing moon, all rosy red. To peep above the fragrant elms and oaks That stood as silhouetted guards above The elf-lit scene. And thou wert at my side. Thy hand almost in mine, thy blushes warm — Oh so inviting to my yearning lips ; And sat we two— perhaps 'twas proph- ecy — Upon the steps that easy made the way V/ithin a little chapel-house that rose 54 ir DreamcD of %ovc. Above the lovesome earth. So this, the prelude first Was witching fair to see ; but then it seemed The inky woods outstretched their beck'ning arms And took my soul to darkness, doubt- fulness, And lured my erring heart with weirdly grave Enchantment, potent, subtle; all the while The whispering leaves and branches overhead Were plotting darksomely the moon to hide; And down below the tangled, hugging vines. With gnomish ways, tripped up my trembling feet. Thus sombre, gruesome, full of mys- tery. With strange misgivings fraught, this place 55 •ff DreamcD of Hove. Absorbed the whole of Faith and bred Despair. Once more the level fields, the jewelled grass, The faithful flying lamps that show the way Through all the little caverns in the ground — Wherein, though small, the blackness is intense As any in the wood; and there I prayed, ** Oh, may v/e never have an ebon Care — A cavern full of gloom, of trouble, doubt — So large but that the single cheerful ray Of just one tiny, glowing, flashing fly May drive it far away — dispelled and gone — And in its place be Light and Faith and Love." 66 Zbc ©rgan'0 Xove. 'Tis in the dusk, the sunlight's glow Falls softly, tinged with red and gold ; The stillness, sanctified and old, Is hardly touched and yet I know It is my love whose gentle tread Glides by the patches gold and red ; My love it is, whose glances soft. Precede her to my dingy loft. She comes — sad little heart is she Who brings her sighs and tears to me; Who brings her soul to let it free With inspiration's symphony ; To weave sublime Enchanting rhyme; To give her being up to mine ; To conjure melodies divine. She touches on my dearest notes And far away the sobbing floats, And, rising, falling, all the wails More tenderly than lovers' tales Ebb forth and, trembling on the air, 57 TTbe ©r^an'B %ovc. Plead plaintively. It is my heart Pulsating wildly to her there. She knows it, yet she does not start, Nor take her fingers, soft and white, From off my quivering keys. The night And darkness fail to dim her sight Or drag her soul and mine apart. She leans and sways and every tone Of mine is more and more her own, And hers are mine, until the theme Of all my loving, like a dream, Steals on her sense ; and now I seem To pour the love that s in the strain Into her willing ears. Her brain No longer rules the lofty train Of passion's rhyme, but it is I, Controlling her, who breathes the sigh Of love's resistless ecstasy. Then with a lover's mighty strength I fill the sanctum full of love, More deep, more holy, till at length It vibrates all — belov/, above ; B8 ^e ©rgan'0 Xove. And deeper, deeper, deeper still It seems the sacred place to fill With harmony sublime. And more Tremendous, lifting, pure it swells, As if 'twould break through every door And barrier to souls. It wells From every reed and breath, from all My being, and from wall to wall The whole vast volume crowds around Her form — each note a circling arm Embracing her — each chord and sound Enticing forth her soul with charm Hypnotic. Ah such awful power, In such a place, at such an hour ! Too great ! too much ! her little face Sinks forward on the keys ; the place Re-echoes with a lonely chord — The last of all that mighty horde — It seeks her heart, and there at rest Is nestled in her sleeping breast. Zbc niQht Skater* Oh! the smooth black ice, the mysterious black, And the clink of my runners of steel, And the boom and the crack that go echoing back, And the swiftness of wind that I feel As I glide like a shade Through the air that's afraid To follow behind on my track ! Oh! the star-lit black, the mysterious glass. The magnet that clinks on the steel, And the dead, frosted grass and the trees as I pass Crane forward to witness the zeal Of my race with the sound That goes booming around, Like the ghostly huzzas of the mass. Oh! the deep black ice, the mysterious black. And the clink of the steel as I go. And the boom and the crack that come echoing back Like the voices of gnomes down be- low! And the Future's the shade That's before, and dismayed Is the Past that's behind on my track I GoD'0 Sun. A dreary, cold, wet mom ; No smile in Nature's face ; No song ot sweet-voiced birds ; No happiness is born. Young flowers droop and die, Die pining for the sun That will not shine to-day _ To warm the cheerless air, The morning damp and gray. My heart is sad, and pain Is in its lifeless throb ; No love nor joy is there ; Its tears in silence rain. Its dearest hopes seem dead. Dead, waiting for the sun Companionship could bring, Which will not come to-day To ask my soul to sing. But ah ! God's sun will shine; The clouds will waste away ; Despair and chill depart ; The song and love be mine. Glad Summer's days and Fate's Will bring the flowers and birds, Will bring— He wills they must- Contentment, soulful peace, Complete, confiding trust. 61 prc*;emption. Say, do you hope to make your mark Upon her heart so soft and fair ? Set up your post in that sweet park, A warning 'gainst men treading there? For if you do I ought to tell That such a thing can never be. The fact is — and it's just as well — Her heart's already marked— for me. G2 Bll Bl)OUt irt. All about it will I tell thee ; Thou hast seen All the sheen Of the lake beneath the kiss Of the moon ; Or at noon Thou hast seen the ardent rays of the sun Bring a blush And a flush On the ripples as they run ; More than this Thou hast won, Dear, from me. All about it will I tell thee; Thou hast known How alone Is the mateless nightingale ; How at night, In its plight, 63 Hll :about 1ft It has sighed its mournful note in the tree ; How the hill And the rill Echoed low in sympathy ; Deeper tales, Plaintively, Sigh from me. All about it will I tell thee ; Thou hast heard Every ^^ird, In its mating, sing of love ; Thou hast pressed To thy breast Roses wild, breathing love ere they die, When a bee, Buzzingly, Brings another's pollen sigh ; — All above These am I, Loving thee. 64 XLbc meDDtng IRtng, Blushing and flushing, a bride of a day — Tingling with altar-felt throbbings that sing Sweet in her bosom — entranced by the ray That dances about on her plain golden ring, Soft kisses the emblem of love ; and it gleams, And Dawn-light of sacredness warms in its beams. Smiling, a wife, half years over the way, Tingling with mother-felt throbbings that sing Sweet in her bosom — made glad by the ray That dances about on her plain, golden ring- Soft kisses the emblem of love ; and it seems 65 CTbe 11Clc&&f!i(? IRfna, That Noon-beams of sacredness warm in its gleams. Sighing, a grandmother. Time-kissed and gray — Tingling with mem'ry-felt throbbings that sing Faintly but sweetly — is warmed by the ray That sparkles undimmed on her worn golden ring, And kisses the emblem of love; and it beams. And Sunset of sacredness glows in its gleams. Oh wholesome, finger-clasping band of guardian gold, All unadorned, thine atoms, virgin pure, Time-burnished, gleam with warmth that grows not old And teach the way that loving should endure ! Bn Ol^ax ntscmox^ Came. The warm and ruddy glow, Where the coals were burning low In the grate, Was cheerful, warming, kind To my lone and bach'lor mind Grown sedate, So I sat ; and then it seemed — Or perhaps I may have dreamed — 'Twas the bloom And the tint a fairy fay Brought to scatter dark away From the room. An olden mem'ry then Came within my soul again, Where it stayed ; For there climbed upon my chair A youngster bright and fair, And we played. I could feel her chubby form Cuddling, confident and warm, To my breast. And I felt the pleasure race To my cheek, whereon her face Gently pressed. 67 l\n ©lOcn fllbcmor^ Game. Then she said she'd like to *'yide On a horsey," so we tried On the rug ; For I got upon my knees And my hands, and quite at ease — With a hug — She clung astride my back, And with such a winsome whack Said *'Go 'long." Oh, we romped an hour away And her laughter was a gay, Chuckling song. And the joy her ** horsey " felt, As he pranced around and knelt At commands, Was innocent and deep And he longed his lips to keep On her hand. " Baby seepy," then she said, And she nestled close her head To my chin. Where I held her close, the while My heart with boundless smile Beat within. Then the lashes of her eyes Drew the portals close with ties Soft as silk, 68 %n ©IDen ^emorv? Came. While a smile cnme in to float All above her dainty throat White as milk. Oh! I couldn't help but kiss Her petal cheek, but this Broke the charm, For I felt her strangely fade Like an evanescent shade From my arm ; Then I — well — perhaps, awoke, And its likely that I spoke To the air, For my arms felt oddly light And empty ; But the night Didn't care. It had taken back the kind Cheerful things and left my mind More sedate — Taken, too, the ruddy glow. Leaving ashes cold as snow On the grate. ^be JBacbclor Song. Heigho, heigho — a bachelor song ? Why, yes, I'll sing one, gay and filled With all the fun we have, and long 'Twill never be. Let's see; we're thrilled With daily joys of being free From household cares and nursery, And wives — hold on ; I've seen a few Dear souls who really ought to do As helpful mates — and youngsters, too. Why bless you, there is nothing quite So sure to dim my hardened sight As just to have some little child Climb trustfully upon my knee And pat my face and look with mild Confiding eyes on lonely me — Some lucky daddy's tot ; and when I leave his cheerful hearth and go And sit within my bachelor den, 'Tis then I sing the song — heigho ! 70 XLbc /Ren Mbo Xivc Blone^ Ho, ho, ha, ha, the jolly men Who live alone — why yes We have our homes, that is, I guess The rest adopt a den That's like to mine, and have a place — Up high sometimes, you know — But that's a splendid thing to brace A fellow up who's slow At climbing; and they're not too small Nor yet too large. Now mine Is snug and warm, except when all The oil's burned out, and fine. But, say, my view across the street Is — well — disturbing ; — nay, Not quite so bad, because it's sweet And good, but every day, Or evening, I can look across. Through windows clear and bright, And see a father romp and toss His youngsters in the light That glows from out his fire, and see His wife look smiling on And kiss the babies lovingly, Until — the picture's gone. They pull the curtain down and then I'm cheerful as a stone. And laugh, ha ha, the jolly men Who live in ''rooms," alone. B 3Sacbelor ZToast* How now, a toast, from bachelor lips To please the bride who sweetly slips The golden Hymen kiss upon Her tingling finger ? Be it so ; May garland words all smoothly flow To weave a blessing of to use To crown her with, for lo, 'tis won This lovesome day. Then in a glass Of clearest water, bright and pure, I'll pledge her happiness, nor pass The words in wine, for springs endure When grapes are dry of joy. I toast Whatever joy is innermost Within her leart — the joy that she In secret keeps full sacredly For husband eyes. And may its shrine Be petal-hid by blooms of love That thrive anear a heart and twine Like gentlest arms, around, above And all about. And always may The melody that throbs to-day — The heart duet — that, blended fair, 73 B JSacbcIoc ZoaeU Goes forth, one song, upon the air — Ring crystal clear; and be it told Till all the sands of Time are old ! O altar stars celestial ! bless The rightness and the wholesomeness Of wed-locked pairs ! make joy divine Within their souls, as once in mine I thought to have — for lo, 'tis good To save a man from bachelorhood ! 73 With a cute little trot Went a brown little tot, O'er bubbling and crowing with glee, And up to her throat Came a wee furry coat, And hugging her tight as could be. In her pink little hand Was a finger, and tanned Quite dark— or at least, so I thought— But 'twas papa's, and so She just clasped it as though Great fingers too rarely are caught. And I lingered and walked On behind as they talked And laughed ; and I envied the coat— The brown one so snue: — And I envied the hug That it gave from her heels to her throat. Then I looked at my own Biggish hands, that have known So little of love's wholesome clasp, And behold, there are ten Lonesome fingers, but then What tot would a one of them grasp? XLhc (3low in tbc (3ratc, Oh no, we do not want the light To drive the shadows forth to-night, To battle with the wind. Come sit with me before the glow That's in the grate and watch the show Upon the walls defined. How cosy warm it seems before The ruddy coals that 'cross the floor Throw shifting, blushing beams ! And list the low and purring hum That seems to go and gently come, Inviting lovesome dreams. Upon the wall that's opposite Gigantic shades and fancies flit. Rude-penciled by the blaze; And maybe they are ghosts of coals, And maybe they are restless souls Of other scenes and days. 'Twere sweet, methinks, to know the source Of those about the rocking-horse The baby left to-night ; They seem to touch it tenderly And almost make it move, and see. ^be (Blow In tbc Grate, The tiny saddle's bright With soft caresses meant for him. J^ut mother's chair is lost in dim And ghostly shades that creep Within it, somber, still, and trace Her wasted form and gentle face In wondrous grays and deep. As if she sat again to smile On baby's frolicking, the while She crooned a song of peace. Oh mystic shades ! and can ye be The ghosts of household history ? And will ye never cease ? For dark are some and moving slow, And light are some that dance and go Like children gay and glad ; And all the changing edge about Is darkness, gloom, unsolven Doubt And things forlorn and sad. But no, we do not want the light To drive the shadows forth to-night, We'll turn around instead And look upon the coals that glow So hopefully and brightly throw Us kisses, warm and red. 76 ft Sball l^ot paea. Once, when I thought an end must some day be, That Death's all-moving scythe must thee bestow On Heaven — or cut me down — too pain- fully My heart tears bled, for, dear, I love thee so! Since then I've thought on Fate; to me it seems Our loves, like souls, are not new, fresh-made things That, born to-day, die when we go, like dreams — No, dear, our love, e'en over Death, hath wings ! 77 "Why live to have my blossoms fall on stones ? " The city sapling sighed, **and what atones For blasting heat, for brown, unlovely walls, For lack of meadow's green, for birds' sweet calls ? Ah me, ah me, it is no joy to live Thus, all my leaves and loveliness to give For naught. Oh, let me die or let me look Once more into the ripples of a brook ! " An older elm, whose twigs had oft shed tears Of sorrow through the winters of the years — Whose re-incarnate wail thus at its feet Was echoed o'er, breathed back in cadence sweet: 78 mb^SboulMTXlvc? " Let not thy young, unburdened limbs complain, Thou hast but tasted of the worldly pain Which fleeting Time doth bring with sad'ning truth, But which, thank Heav'n, is spared to dreaming youth. Live for the joy, the comfort you may be To tired souls — for those who love to see Thy cheerful green. Let not thy efforts fade While weary hearts are grateful for thy shade ; Though blossoms, thine, may fall on with'ring stone. Bethink we live not for ourselves alone." * * * * The Spring-time came ; lo, in the morn- ing sun. Loveliest of the trees that little one. 79 2lu IRevofri "Ah me," the tender zephyrs sigh, And back again they gently turn To bid the flowers and leaves good-bye, To kiss again the fading fern, Once more to steal some perfume sweet And lay it at the Summer's feet, Dear Summer gliding past. The cricket's song at close of day Hath lost its cheery, blithesome tone, And mournfully and far away It sounds with wood dove's plaintive moan; And loving birds are hushed and still That wooed the Summer from the hill, The Summer dying fast. The boisterous breezes of the Fall, Frost laden, sweep with rudest rush. Familiarly to toy with all The leaves, which scarlet blush And die for shame to think that they Perforce the zephyr's love betray To Winter's wanton boy. Bu IRcvoir. Poor withered bits of color brown, So bright and green on Summer's day, By angry Boreas now torn down, Are whirled in rustling clouds away ; And sobs the gentle early rain To see the gladsome Summer wane. The Summer full of joy. 'Tis sad to see the Summer go, 'Tis sad to lose of kith or friend. And yet, 'tis better ordered so, 'Tis best our earthly joys should end. Though Summer, aye, though Love depart. They'll come again to cheer the heart — Sans sadness, sans alloy. THE END.