LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. rS^T^ — ®i^ap.— .... iop^ml^ :|tt. UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. m$u 5^ootr DTHER PDEMST ll.\RLES EOYNTON HOWELL. L. AUTIIOJI 01-' "Tin; CUITRCM ANi> THKCIIVIL I.AW," "MICHIGAN Nisi Pkius Casks," Etc. ■MY 26 r888 V / DETROIT: HAKIJCS IJOYXTOX IFOWKI.Ii, 1 sss. w^. Copyright 1888, Bij Charlf.^ P>. Honu'll. ILLUSTRATIONS BY J. B. TI[O.MAS Ann Arbor Courier Printers and Hinders. PREPARE. '^I'ti^ fltHe uol'inuc i^ ntabc- up of :nc lectio ikn front tfic c3(ti'H\or\> rccrcatiojv.N ivi ucr^c- btiriiia the 1a^t tPnztij tjear>. ^Ho^t of tl'ie pocno luctc totitten fitit- rieM'tj, ao iWc- cA;p^e^.^io^v of imptiloo, tlW re.Mil't of pa^.'' i wa e uc- vi t^ . c^^cijti^ tfte vuctC' iuctbeub of a L^crtj ^umi an^ cuc| to^.>iM*g pt-o^V:!>.>ioitar fi|c, tPie- poeuio ate botil(tfe^> [at l-'rovu pc-r-['ect, 6iit ij-' a> a Jufvofc, tfie lioor? »ncct'> -vuitft tPie^ f\xvot accotb^b in tfie pa^t to pottioii.i of \i> corvtcnto, |j ;>fvafl^ ^e more tfvan conteitt. DiSTROiT, May 1, 1888. TABLE 0F eSMTEMTS. >:ext DooK, (Illustrated) 5 A Voice from out the Skies — H In the Attic T Love Unber the Stars !) The Sailor's Cheer, (Illustrated) .12 The Two Ships Vi The Soul of Liberty 13 Just ix Time 14 Memory's Tomes l") The Darkness Within Itl Detroit Kiveu 1^ Before the AVixrrE House Por- tals 20 The Old Gray Kock. (Illus- trated) "-^1 Fremont 22 War Here— Peace Yonder 22 The North Star Si ate 2o A June Carol 2") Look to God 2(i In the Corn Fif>ld 27 JosiE 2!" Old Friends oO The Burning of Cihoago .Jl In Memokiam,— Abraham Lincoln; David Preston; James B. Atctiin- son: JolHi Motte Arnold; John Willyoung ; Lyman Cochrane ; Sadie Campbell; George A. Ross: Maurice Howell Hall 32-41 The Pillow ok Promises 42 MiRRI KELLK 43 The Heart ok the I'eople 44 The Voices of the Waters 45 Gone Before 47 Sunrise on the Prairies 49 The Big Prairies 51 Miss Dakota to Uncle Sam 52 Love's Immortality ."3 Over the Way 55 How Long ? ofi Tjie Poet's Song 57 Immortality — 58 Sleep and Rest 59 Our HeritaCtE (il Treasures in Heaven lil The Future. . (13 Under the Stars ^ VTANoiNG-iN'MLCNCi:- |\EXT-DD°F\ . yrEN!N(i-TO-EAR^THLY. VOICE^' JHO^ HA^T- OFTEN' HL^R.D. BEFORE'? Next Door.' How far is thy habitation From that thou hast left behind? How far hast thy spirit journeyed, On the wings of the swiftest wind? How long is the distance over From here to the other side? How far is it to the haven Across the surging tide? Art thou, in immortal vesture, Standing in silence "next door," Listening to earthly voices Thou hast often heard before? What is the mystic partition Betwixt the dwellings of earth And the glorious "many mansions," In the land of celestial birth? No answer comes from the silence ; No voice from out the skies Unto my many questions, In any tone repHes. We know not whether Heaven Is near us or is far ; " Next door " to earth's habitations, Or beyond the farthest star. 'A Voice From Out the Skies." Unseen is my habitation Among the dwellings of men ; The knowledge revealed here to me Is beyond all mortal ken. Not far is the distance over, Nor wide the Stygian flood. And thin is the veil that hides thee From the light of God. No tongue can describe the vesture Of those who in glory stand, Ineffable is the beauty Of the raiment in this land. IN THE ATTIC. Ah ! the honors of earth how empty ; The lights of earth how dim, When likened unto the glory And brightness of Him ! This world to thee seems silent, But were unsealed thine ears. Thou would'st listen to myriad voices In tune with the singing spheres. O ! soon the time is coming, Long looked-for, radiant dawn, When the veils will all be riven, Earth's night be gone. In The Attic' Like the wind that is dying away, To me is the low, faint roar In the mart of trade, where the " madding crowd " Through the street like a river doth pour. But no waves from that flood-tide come To my realm in this eyrie seat ; They may angrily rise and wildly surge, But against it in vain they beat. » IN THE ATTIC. From here Thought roams away On the Hghtning wings of the mind, While the Frame, in this sweet sohtude, Quiescent stays behind. Thought may travel over the road To the earliest dawn of light. May linger in Eden's pristine bowers, By the presence of Him made bright. May down the centuries come. While a panorama swings Before the mind, till the mystic past Is a gallery of wondrous things. May look on the tide of war, That rolled in tumultuous flood In the olden times adown the earth, Leaving a trail of blood. May gaze on the rule of right In many and many a life. Where peace and joy and truth and love Choked out the seeds of strife. May come to the present time Of marvels manifold. IN THE ATTIC. When man transmutes the grossest forms Into the finest gold. And sweeping by, may speed Through the future's broad domain, And travel on the King's highway, Till Paradise we gain. And yet, there is something more Than dreams and roving thought ; There is work on every hand to do, And battles to be fought. So I must get me down From this my eyrie seat, And breast the throbbing waves of life, However hard they beat. Yet a heavenly Pilot guides Our barques through the stormiest sea. And a Royal Captain leads His host To glorious victory. Love Under The Stars. Beneath the soft light of the stars, The myriad host, including Mars, iO LOVE UNDER THE STARS Frederick and Minnie Margaret walked, And of love they thought and of love they talked His eyes looked fondly in her own, Her eyes with tender love-light shone ; No fairer pair was ever seen Beneath the starlight's silvery sheen. They reached the maiden's father's gate, And stillness reigned, the hour was late ; They lingered, as do lovers oft. And their words were sentimental — soft. He said, " The stars their vigils keep, While men in their indifference sleep, Yet love is lasting as the stars — " As he said this the meadow bars Rattled and shook, and o'er them came, As fierce as the beasts no man can tame. The watch-dog Boze. He from kennel broke, And he fell on Fred with lightning stroke. Fred waited not to say good-night, But safely sought in sudden flight ; Down the highway fast and far He fled his way like a flying car ! LOVE UNDER THE STARS. 11 Like the red Comanche he screamed and yelled, The dog meanwhile a straight course held ; For once, as on his way he sped, Proud man was found a " leetle ahead." Fred's father, and all the family, too, Had heard afar the '' hullabaloo,'- And rushed to the rescue of the son. Armed with weapons every one. They met the runners down the road. And as they by them swiftly strode, They hit the fiercely yelling cur. Till the air was full of his shaggy fur. Fred rushed pell mell to his mother's arms. Her presence then had greater charms Than fairy Minnie by her father's gate, Under the stars at an hour so late. Old Boze meanwhile had met his fate, — Too weak to answer the call of mate ; His watching, toil and waiting done. His race beneath the stars was run. 12 THE sailor's cheer. The Sailor's Cheer. '' There is ever an angel up in the sky- Looking down upon poor Jack." — Old Sailor Song. There is never a night so dark, There is never a storm so wild, But through the chinks of the blackest sky,, Eyes merciful and mild — Eyes full of tenderness. And beaming with pure love — Look down in pity on poor Jack From the angel-land above. So Jack's heart never fails, Though the good ship rocks and reels. And his eye of courage never quails, — He full assurance feels That, hovering o'er his life, Are angels of swiftest wing. Who in the hours of darkest fate Hope's full assurance bring. The Two Ships. Once he sailed in the dark ship Doubt, Storms arose on every side; THqE-IVNtV£F^-A-NI&HT-i°-DA[^^ AlNO-NLVEP\-A-')T0F\M-5°-WlL°. THE SOUL OF LIBERTY. 13 The rocks of woe lay black below, — Perilous was the tide. Now he sails in the good ship Faith Hopefully towards the shining shore ; Its headlands' bright appear in sight, And open is Heaven's door. The Soul of Liberty. (1864.) There is a spirit stirring in the land, That on the nation's palpitating heart Takes firmest hold, and thence will not depart 'Till, from Atlantic's to Pacific's strand, It permeates the soil, and air, the breast Of every freeman, and of all oypressed. It is a spirit that, though centuries gone. Though the world's long past, earliest morning's dawn. Has moved to noblest deeds the noblest men. And broken myriads of chains of slavery. In every age, on mountain, vale and glen. It's voice has shouted, ^^ Let all men he free! ^^ The spirit that thus bids oqpression flee Is the unconquored Soul of Liberty. 14 JUST IN TIME. Just in Time.' Calmly on icy shore, Ghastly and pale, Where now and evermore Sweeps by the gale ; Hope dying, they await, Heroes all, cruel fate. No more the icebergs swim Through Artie seas ; Prayer doth ascend to Him Whose sympathies Sweep through the universe. Giving balm for the curse. Earth's light going out, Hope dies at last. Hark! whence that rescuing shout? Men look aghast ! Can it be help is come, Just on the brink of doom? Yes, in time ; embers burn In shivering frames. memory's tomes. 15 To their homes may return Some hero-names. Evermore in life look up : " While there is life there's hope." Memory's Tomes. I sat on the bank of a rushing stream, Through a glad valley it sped, I looked on the past, as one in a dream Looks on the face of the dead. 'Twas the valley where once my childhood played Years and years gone by ; I had "lang syne" from those old haunts strayed, I thought time had severed each tie That held me unto the scenes of old ; And yet in my wanderings I sat where Memory unto me told A thousand forgotten things. I opened a volume of the times, Full of music and song ; Of rollicking, dulcet, rhythmic rhymes. And its gilt leaves roamed among. 16 THE DARKNESS WITHIN. But Memory's tomes before my eyes Shut out this charming book, And whichever way, in my surprise, My roving eyes would look Memory's volumes ojien wide, And, as writ with pen of gold, There rose like the ocean's swelling tide The myriad scenes of old. 0, may we keep lifs's record clear, That when in the world above. The books are opened we need not fear, But rest in the Father's love. The Darkness Within.* They sailed, the Egyptian seamen, And those from Grecian isles. And mariners, bold Romans Sailed 'neath the glad sun's smiles. O'er Mediterranean's bosom. Up- closely to her shore; From eastward to the westward They did the sea explore. THE DARKNESS WITHIN. 17 But when they reached Gibraltar, These sailors, bronzed and bold, Furled sails and cast their anchors, (So runs the story old). To them the bounding billows Of the rolling western sea Were filled with death and danger, And awful mystery. They thought the sea a monster. With giant hands to slay The roving, luckless voyagers Sailing that dangerous way. That dancing, sparkling sunbeams Did not upon it fall ; 'Twas wrapped in midnight darkness, As in a funeral pall. But onward rolled time's chariot. And other seamen brave. Sailed o'er the dark old ocean, On through her yielding wave. And while fierce storms swept o'er her. The sunshine also came. And shone upon her bosom A bright and welcome flame. DETROIT RIVER. And now the broad Atlantic Bears navies on her tide, And ships from every nation In triumph o'er her ride. The glorious sun in heaven Hides not his luminous face From this old '' sea of darkness," But visits her in his race. There was a depth of darkness Among the mariners old, And (now they're gone) all safely The story may be told. The dense and inky darkness Was ignorance and sin; Their vision was inverted ; The darkness was within. Detroit River.' steadily onward, onward Its royal tide doth flow, Beneath the midnight darkness, Or mid-day's brightest glow ; DETROIT RIVER. ' 19 It's pure refreshing waters Roll down from the inland seas, And the snow white wings of commerce Float o'er it in the breeze. Its broad abounding waters Are mighty at night as day ; Through all the changing seasons They do not shrink away. And when the freshet's torrents Into the current pour, This King among the rivers Goes onward as before. 0, calm, majestic River! O, quiet, yet mighty flood ! Thou speak'st in musical whispers, Like the still, small voice of God. Symbol, thou art, 0, River, Of the stream beyond the strife. By the throne forever flowing. The pure, glad River of Life. 20 BEFORE THE WHITE-HOUSE PORTALS. "Before the White-House Portals." Before the White-House Portals, When war was in the land, When southern cohorts threatened And blood was on every hand, I stood with gathered thousands — Over us was a spell. As we heard great-hearted Lincoln The story of Freedom tell. Before the White-House Portals, When peace, white-winged, had come, I stood 'mid a throng there gathered. But the eloquent lips were dumb ; The white walls and the pillars Were wrapped in symbols of woe, While a weeping nation staggered Under the terrible blow. I have thought mayhaps in Heaven Is a White-House stately, grand, Among the many mansions — That within its portals stand The great and true apostles Of liberty in the past. Who talk of that grandest Freedom Which they have won at last. 1 W\ ^-^ _ '^^^^\ ' Df EPp^- D^WN -THAN THE- Cof\AL- ^. •- BENEAi:H-tH£-TFlEA^HER°Uy WAVE,' [t- K\\f_\ Hl^H-0'Ef\-THE0CEAN • F\EADYT°-r-\E^^UE, <)AVE, THE OLD GRAY ROCK. 21 The Old Gray Rock/ It goes deeper down than the coral, Beneath the treacherous wave ; It rises high o'er the ocean, Ready to rescue — save. The pelting, pitiless storm winds That sweep, at the midnight, by, Are scattered, shattered, defeated. When they meet this rock, and die. It does not sway or tremble Before the wildest swell, But is strong, and free, and mighty As tongue or pen can tell. It has stood while men and empires Went down in blood and tears ; It has stood through all the ages, It is gray with its myriad years. It does not frown upon you. Nor sway a tyrant's rod. But beams with love and mercy — It is the Truth of God. 2 22 WAR HERE PEACE YONDER. Fremont.' Triumphant stands he in the majesty Of risen truth and vindicated right, With sword unsheathed, ready to bravely fight Those who would fain bring down fair Liberty, The nation's guardian goddess, from on high Into dishonor's turbid pool to die. 'Tis meet Fremont, who, fearless, trod the path, ('Mid savage foes, and braving the storm king's wrath ) , Untrod before, o'er mountains of the West, Till he upon Pacific's shore found rest. Should now do battle on the mountain height. In Union's name and Freedom's, till the goal Of the nation's hopes is reached, and every soul A sacred alter is for freedom's holy light. War Here— Peace Yonder. I thought the warfare over. That ceased had beat of drum. That peace, as dove from heaven. To the weary world had come. That the bitter, ceasless conflicts 'Twixt brethern of one race, THE NORTH STAR STATE. 23 Had like some dark dream vanished, And left no scar or trace. But, as the tides of ocean Now shrink, and die away, Then roll again to shoreward When evening shadows play ; So now on earth the battle Is raging fierce and high — Above all jarring tumults Is heard the warrior's cry. And yet if true souls listen To a still, small voice within, There will be heard a message Above earth's battle-din : " Be brave in life's hard battle, And win a sure release, For at the goal up yonder You'll find eternal peace." The North Star State. Prairies stretching westward Toward the setting sun ; 24 THE NORTH STAR STATE. Rivers northward, southward, Every way they run. Vast and mighty forests The woodsman's axe await, A commonwealth of power Is the North Star State. Scenery of grandeur And simplicity, In her wide-spread borders Everywhere you see ; ower-gems on the prairies, Singing streams i' the wood. Beautify the landscape And cheer the solitude. Cities, towns, and hamlets Rise like magic here and there And the horse of iron Rides forth triumphant there ; Enterprise looks upward, With high hope elate, A commonwealth of power Is the North Star state. A JUNE CAROL. 25 A June Carol. Bobolinks sing of June In the red clover, Robins are warbling June Over and over. Larks, they are chirping June Out in the meadow, Swallows — twitter June In the eave's shadow. Early flowers tell of June While they are lying. Breathing their last perfume, As they are dying. The long days hint of June And the old Sun, shining, Tells of June at the noon And at day's declining. "June!" shouts the romping boy, "June?" carols the maiden, "June," drone the toiling ones With their burdens laden, " June," whisper in my ear The South winds blowing, " June," gurgle waters clear Towards the ocean flowing. 26 LOOK TO GOD. Look to God. Is thy lone heart heavy, 'Neath its weight of woe? Dost thy soul grow weary Of this life below? Art thou sadly sighing O'er thy earthly lot? Look to God for guidance ; He forsaketh not. Does the black-browed Tempest, At the midnight dark, With a stroke of fury, Smite thy frail life-barque? Look to conquering Jesus, Who, on Galilee, Spake — and peace and safety Reigned upon the sea. Whatsoe'er thy trouble, Whatsoe'er thy woe ; On life's field of warfare Where'er thou dost go. Marching, working, waiting, On thy pilgrim road, IN THE CORN FIELD. 27 With faith's full assurance, Look unto thy God ! In the Corn Field. They go in the April morning, Father and son, afield. And ploughing the green-sward under. Look forth to the harvest's yield. The father is brown and sober. The son is blithe and gay. And so the hours pass swiftly Of the glad and hopeful day. They go again in May time Each armed with a brand-new hoe, And plant the tiny kernels Of corn in the ground below ; The father tells of plantings In the primitive, olden time. The son, half listening, dreameth Of odors of rose and thyme. Anon corn-blades are springing From out the earth's dark mould ; 28 IN THE CORN FIELD. Unto the air and sunshine The tender leaves unfold. Quickly the blades grow stronger Under the dew and sun, And the hue grows deeper, clearer. Of the green stalks, every one. There's a rustle of leaves in the corn field As the August breeze sweeps by ; 'Mid the stalks are the children playing, And look toward the bending sky — . They ask whence come these voices Of the wind in its mild, sweet mood, And wonder if 'tis from Heaven, If it be the whisper of God. The field becomes a forest Of stalks, and tassels, and grain, When skies are grown more sober. And falls September rain ; Then father and son with sickles Gather the ripened ears. Symbols of life's ripe harvest For the granery of the years. josiE. 29 JOSIE. I care little whether sunshine Falleth, or clouds hover o'er, Whether the hoarse, wild tempest Is al^road with flash and roar. Or whether at peace is nature, And banished dark-faced fear, Only so thou, my darling. So thou art near. I hear the ravens croaking, Clad in the garb of men. Discordant and sad their music, Very perplexing, but then, I little heed their clammor, Or their forbodings drear. If at home by the fireside. Thy voice I hear. Thy smiles are the brightest sunshine. And gladden the weary heart. Thy voice is the sweetest music The world to me can impart. Thy face more fair than nature. Freed from shadows and strife. More than sunshine, and music, and beauty. Art thou, my wife. 30 OLD FRIENDS. Old Friends. Their heart-strings closely together Are knit as with hooks of steel ; Whatever the wind or weather, Each doth for the other feel A S3^mpathy deep, an abiding love, Born of a principle from Above. One may be on the ocean. Leagues and leagues from land, Where waves in wild commotion Smite with tyrant hand ; But he gladly sees with eye of faith. His friend far away from the tempest's breath. The other in summer bowers Surrounded by wealth untold, 'Mid odors of rarest flowers. Clouds dressed in crimson and gold. The signals say, "There's a storm at sea!" And he thinks, "Can my friend from its danger flee?" Their hands with age may tremble, Their eyes grow dim and faint ; They do not betray or dissemble. In their love there is no taint ; THE BURNING OF CHICAGO. 31 It has stood the test of smiles and tears, And is as eternal as the years. The Burning of Chicago, OCTOBER 7, 1871. No need to turn to history's pages, To burning Moscow, Jerusalem, Rome ; We find Chicago's burning ruins And shattered grandeur here at home. No need to seek the field of battle For scenes of death, for piles of slain ; Before the sword of flame these perished, O, may they not have died in vain ! We need not grope in shadowy chambers, 'Mid storied temples of the past. To find humanity's great heart throbbing- The world in wonder stands aghast To see the horn of plenty emptied Into the scenes so desolate ; To see broad Charity, child of heaven, Changing to triumph adverse fate. 32 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. IN ME^MORI^M. Abraham Lincoln. APRIL, 1865. We bow the knee in prayer to-day, Our hearts are filled with sorrow ; Upon each day we trust and pray Relief may come to-morrow. But, when the morrow comes, alas ! The deepening shadow lingers ; Upon the air is writ " despair " By subtle, unseen fingers. I look up to the Capitol's dome. And Liberty's face is saddened, Where yesterday the smiles did play. As " victory " all hearts gladdened. And thus me thinks the Goddes speaks " Stand by the stricken nation. Which sorely needs your noblest deeds, The patriot's best oblation, " The bravest and the best must go Beyond earth's open portal. But the legacy of liberty They leave becomes immortal." DAVID PRESTON. 33 David Preston. '' What ! David Preston dead, His royal spirit fled? I cannot make it seem Aught but a passing dream." So said a friend I met upon the street, As the sad news swept by, on flying feet. That Sabbath morn there came, Sunshine in golden flame, That lighted earth and sky, So grandly, gloriously. That it was marveled, that death's angel grim Should, on such bright, glad morn, have smit- ten him. Upon that Sabl:)ath tide, There sounded far and wide Bell notes upon the air. Inviting men to prayer And unto praise, and preaching of the Word, Which in his life so oft his soul had stirred. How hard to bear his loss. How hard to bear the cross 34 DAVID PRESTON. Of bitter suffering, His death to all doth bring, Who knew and greeted him, and pressed his hand, While walking Zionward, through desert land. Lo ! on the farther shore, Angels are singing, Cherubim, Seraphim, Voices are ringing ! Hark ! hear the saints in light, Clad in their vestures white, Join in seraphic strains. Rolling o'er Heaven's plains. And this, their glad refrain : " Earth's loss, but Heaven's gain I Well done, thy work of love ; No need thy faith to prove, To glory thou art come. Welcome home I Welcome home ! " Then saith his Master, Lord : " Well done, thou faithful one 1 JAMES B. ATCHINSON. 35 Receive thy rich reward, The purchase of my Son!" And thus methinks our loved friend entered in That glorious rest unmarred by woe or sin. For an abundant entrance e'er is given, To such as he, into the highest Heaven. James B. Atchinson. His song on earth has died upon his lips, His earthly sun gone out in death's eclipse. And mourning ones have wept beside his bier, And each who loved him drops the silent tear. Yet, could we list the sweet, ecstatic strains, That roll in triumph o'er the heavenly plains. We would rejoice to hear him sing the song Of Moses and the Lamb with sainted throng. And were our visions given a heavenly sweep. And could we view the land where none o'er weep, We would not say his sun had set in night, But risen where the Lamb of God gives light. 36 JOHN MOTTE ARNOLD. He wrought for God with patience and with might, Encased in armor, went forth to the fight Of love and faith. He's laid his armor down, And his reward the pure, unfading crown. John Motte Arnold. How near may man be unto lasting peace. And near life's battle unto death's release. When heaven begins and toils and troubles cease. The pilgrim in his tabernacled clay, Walking a-wear}^ in the King's highway, Anon doth enter through the gates of day. This laborer in the vineyard of the Lord, Above earth's tumults, heard the Master's word Of " Come up higher ! " — how his soul was stirred ! And suddenly his spirit took its flight. Above the regions of earth's sin and blight. Unto the land of love, and life, and light. And yet, the beauty of his life is ours ; His good deeds blossom as perennial flowers. And memories of him cheer in darkened hours. JOHN WILLYOUNG. 37 John Willyoung. *' It May he at the Midnight.^ ^ 'Twas midnight tide — the hum of trade Had ceased when evening shades grew deep ; Men, one by one, had left the marts And sought the realm of dreams and sleep, But lights still burned within a home, Where dwelt hearts charged with mutual love, And on a dying couch lay one Who heard " Come home," from Heaven above. This one had been a soldier brave. Had borne Emmanuel's banner high. Been true to all of duty's calls. And sought a noble destiny. But strength of frame began to wane. And weaker grew his manly voice ; Yet still he held the standard high Of Him who was his hope and choice. But in this world an end must come, However high the purpose be. O, swiftly flows life's onward tide Into the everlasting sea ! 3 88 LYMAN COCHRANE. And to the hiisl)and, father came The hour when farewell must be said ; Then looked he to the Strong for strength That he might home be safely led. He stood at starting on a hight 'Twixt week-days and the Sabbath rest, And through the valley's shadow walked With Him who hath that journey blest. 'Twas midnight to the Aveary world. In many a heart 'twas sorrow's night, But on our brother's vision broke The glories of Heaven's morning light ! Lyman Cochrane, Inexorable the high decrees of Heaven, That set the narrow bounds of human life ; The warrior falls amid the battle's strife ; The men of commerce from the mart are driven. The toiler quits the weary task he plies ; The student's midnight lamp no longer burns. The path of age towards the dark river turns. And even merry childhood fades and dies. SADIE CAMPBELL. 39 And now the learned, kind, noble, generous one, Who judged in merey only yesterday — His form is borne to mix with common clay. Away from courts, from life, from air and sun. And yet in courts, in hearts, and homes remain Fond memories in which he lives again. Sadie Campbell. A year ago her features Beamed brightly upon all, At morn, at noon and evening Was heard her childish call To "Papa," "Mamma," "Willie," And the baby in their home, But now you may barken all in vain. For afar her footstejjs roam. When springtime flowers were budding, Her eyes with gladness beamed. And when they bloomed so sweetly Companion fit she seemed For the royalist household blossoms In any family tree. And you might trace in her radiant face The sweetest felicitv. 40 GEORGE A. ROSS. When Autumn, brown and sober Saddened the earth and sky, She faded with the fading flowers, And then with moan and sigh And bitter tears and prayers to God, They laid her body down To rest, yet know that up in Heaven She wears a victor's crown. George A. Ross. When war's dread tocsin sounded through the land, And there was need of men with courage high, Ready to bravely do, if need be, die, Our brother went forth with a patriot band ; And, moved by highest motives for the right, He quailed not in the thickest of the fight. He bared his breast to shafts of death that fast Flew as leaves fly upon the Autumn blast. So in the battle for his Christ and Lord, He held the holy Word, the Spirit's sword. And calmly, humbly, bravely pressed his way Through midnight gloom or mid-day sun's bright ray The victor's wreath, and palm, and crown of life Are his, where nevermore come sin and strife. MAURICE HOWELL HALL. 41 Maurice Howell Hall. When winter winds were high, And dark the lowering sky, And snow swept madly past Upon the swift, fierce blast — There came from Heaven our blessed baby boy, The father's, mother's, brother's, sister's joy! Sweet smiles played on his face, So full of winsome grace ; And soon his prattling voice Made all our hearts rejoice ; His life with ours did softly intertwine, Like tendril round the branches of the vine. The winter went, and spring Gave earth her offering ; Then summer, like a queen. Made glorious all the scene ; And still the baby crowed and smiled, and we Looked toward the future with felicity. The dense, deep shadows fall. Dark as a funeral pall ; We softly, gently tread — 42 THE PILLOW OF PROMISE. Our baby hoy is dead ; When holy hush of Sabbath eventide AVas in our home, the darling baby died. O, God of Heaven, to Thee For help and strength we flee ! O, keep us by Thy side 'Till we shall cross the tide. And in the Beulah land of love and joy. With other loved ones, meet our angel boy The Pillow of Promises/ Darkness covered the weary earth, And shadows filled my soul ; Over my heart did wave upon wave Of sorrow roll. In vain I beckoned to balmy Sleep To lull my frame to rest ; Instead came trooping doubts and fears, To haunt my breast.' But lo ! on midnight darkness ])roke A strange, yet welcome light, The Word illumined all my ways, — Made songs in the night. MARRTBELLE. One by one His promises came Unto my memory, Softly as down from Seraph's wing, And set me free. My pillow was smoothed by angel hands, Each feather a promise became. Inspiring rest, and strength, and hope, In His matchless name. Upon this pillow of promises rare I felt divinely blessed, And body, spirit, mind and soul. Found perfect rest. MiRRIBELLE. There are music's charms so sweet In the tripping of her feet, As she passes o'er the lawn When the glare of day is gone. And when twilight's curtains fall, Casting shadows over all. •-G There is music in her voice. And stern Nature doth rejoice. As, through parlor, hall and grove. 44 THE HEART OF THE PEOPLE. Rings her song of home and love, While its echoes in the wood Awaken the deepest solitude. In her laughter music finds Webs to deftly catch our minds ; List to the rippling peals that pass From ruby lips of this fair lass ! We as captives fast are bound, While this music-queen is crowned. Is there music in her soul? Do the heavenly echoes roll Through her spirit's chambers bright? May some magic bring to light The secret of the wondrous spell, Cast over all bv Mirribelle. The Heart of the People. There's a beating heart, with a power divine, Which no single soul can feel; It throbs and sways the widespread land For the nation's truest weal. THE VOICES OF THE WATERS. 45 At times it seems to die away ; Then braggarts boast their power, And timorous souls lose heart and hope, While evil rules the hour. But anon truth's bugle notes are heard, And the people's heart awakes ; Then a wave of righteousness divine Upon the parched land breaks. Then throbs the people's heart anew With beatings for the right. And trembling men wax strong and brave In the fore-front of the fight. O, may this heart be ever true, And froe, and strong, and brave ! Then dark-browed Wrong shall never lift His head above the wave. The Voices of the Waters. Soothing the fountain's falling spray. Cooling in summer's sultry day In the parks and squares of the city, 46 THE VOICES OF THE WATERS. But at night, to the wanderers who roam The crowded streets, afar from home. It has a voice of pity. Sweet is the voice of the summer rain, Striking athwart my window pane At night, noon, eve or morning. But sad its voice when swept by the gale, Crying out its desolate wail In fearful tones of warning 1 The brooklet's song is one of cheer, As on it flows, from year to year Merrily to the river. The river sings a bolder song. Protesting against each crying wrong. Loyal to the right forever. The ocean's voice is bolder still. As if beneath her a mighty will Sought through the sea expression. At times Old Ocean's voice is low; Again she rises and strikes a l)low, — A giant in oppression ! The voices of our inland seas Are full of riddles and mysteries — Can we not catch their meaning? GONE BEFORE. 47 0, let US harken within the soul To the shining billows as they roll, — Heaven's light upon them beaming ! 0, what the voice of that mighty sea 'Twixt earth and the shores of Eternity, Is this by tempests riven? Or will our frail barques on it ride, Until it's all-embracing tide Shall bear us home to Heaven? Gone Before. They sweep in panoramic view Before my vision now ; The light of immortality Glows brightly on each brow. The 'bridge that runs between the worlds Seems but a narrow way, Leading from here where clouds arise To where there's endless day. I see the soldier boy who went From out our father's home, And took his stand where brave men stood, And bade the danger come. 48 GONE BEFORE. But 80011 he answered to the call The dark commander gave, Who conquors all the human race, However strong or brave. I see the j)laymate dear who died In childhood's morning hour. His petty hand could not withstand The great destroyer's power. But yet he did not shrink or weep. But with a calm good bye, The playmate of my budding life Journeyed beyond the sky. I see the loved ones from our home Sweep in their shining way, Their spirits freed from earthly loads- Their home the realms of day. But lo ! the mist comes o'er my eyes, I cannot see for tears. In thinking of the old-time group In the home of vanished years. I turn my gaze to earth and toil — To struggle and to strife ; All these are fitting souls of men To grasp the higher life. SUNRISE ON THE PRAIRIES. 49 They fit us for the shining way, That we may wing our flight From darkness of the nether world To that of day and light. Sunrise on the Prairies/' The first gray streaks of the morning's dawn Break the gloom of the midnight sky, And the ghostly shadows with swiftest speed To their caverns fly. The cocks are crowing their loud acclaim, As they see the tokens of coming day, And the angel of darkness plumes his wings For his home ^aw ay. The streaks of gray to a lighter hue Are changing, as morning marches on ; And the prairies that stretch to the west away. Bid the night '' Begone ! " The multitudinous flowers, that drooped Their petals while darkness brooded o'er. Look up, as moved by buoyant hopes, And the light adore ! 50 SUNRISE ON THE PRAIRIES. That glorious artist, the regal Sun, Hidden as vet, his brush has dipped Into his beautiM colors, and now Is fully equipped. To paint the east with glintings of gold. Intermingled with crimson dyes. Till more than a magical scene is viewed On the Orient skies. Supernal gardens hang over the world. As the sun comes forth iTom its hiding phice, Filling with glory ineffable The oceans of space ; Flowers of manifold shape and form Blossom in beauty, far and wide, On the prairies that seem as illimitable As the ocean's tide. There are gems on the prairies in gleaming lakes. Fringed and belted with waving trees ; Pioneer homes nestle on the shores, Resting in peace. The sun is climbing the walls of blue. No power can stay his march through the skies. And so it will be till time shall end, — Till the Great Sun dies ! THE BIG PRAIRIES. 51 But a fairer, gladder scene than this Is that in the galleries of the soul, When the Sun of Righteousness doth rise. And our all control. And a dawn more glorious still awaits The tree who cross the Jordon flood, And shine, on the everlasting shore. In the light of God ! ^HE Big Prairies/' Stretching away, They seem to end where the god of day Goes to rest, So sweetl}^ blessed, In the crimson west; Big as these prairies, may each man's heart Be, as in life he acts his part. 0, the blinding snow ! That rides on the swiftest winds that blow. O, how white. When the stars shine bright, In the frosty night ! White as the snow on the prairies wide May truth in all men's hearts abide. MISS DAKOTA TO UNCLE SAM. The free, pure air Is around, about us everywhere. Blest boon to man. Prolongs life's span. Breathe it who can ! Free and pure as the air around May law and liberty ever abound. Miss Dakota to Uncle Sam. 0, don't you hear my knock at the door? Many a knock you have heard before. States that are fruitful and states that are not. Have boldly come to this same spot, And knocked till was heard a mighty din. And cried, "Uncle Sam, just let me in! " States that have area barren and small, And mayhaps a mountain peak so tall ; States with swamps and lakes covered o'er Have rushed pell mell through this same door, I knock — to keep me out is a sin. Let me come in ! O, let me come in ! You say I am young and not of age ! Read, dear Uncle, history's page. Did not the few of our infant land love's immortality. 53 Win victon^ from hoary oppressor's hand? Some only begin to live at death ; I breathed from birth a giant's breath. Don't be afraid or weak in the l)ack, Nor swayed by every party hack. You're old, my Uncle, but on your side Are national honor, glory and pride ; You're safe to open wide the door, ; And let my people through it pour. You say I'm away on the border line, But look when the summer sun doth shine. On the limitless fields of golden grain, That are food, and health, and life, and gain ! My people are millions — I can only begin To tell you all — pray let me in. Love's Immortality. There's beauty in the mountains That overlook the sea. And seem in forms majestic To rise eternally ; And yet when them I question Of that which is to be, 0, awful is their silence ! They speak no word to me. 4 54 love's immortality., I've stood in awe, at midnight, Upon the hill of Mars, And gazed with look of rapture Upon the glittering stars ; I asked of them the question, Of that which is to come. When these frail bodies perish — The glorious stars were dumb. I asked the rolling rivers That rushed on toward the sea. If they could tell the secret Of immortality. They spoke a mystic language And voiced true melody. E'en they revealed no secret Of this great mystery. And yet, beloved Clemantha, I look upon thy face, It mantles with love's beauty ; Upon it I can trace The characters that tell me Of life forevermore. We'll meet again, Clemantha, Upon the thither shore ! OVER THE WAY. 55 Over The Way. Over the way as twilight gathers A fair maid sitteth, in dreamy mood. " What are thy thoughts, my heart's enchantress?" No answer — sacrilege to intrude. Now her eyes begin to brighten, And her lips begin to play ; Low and sweet the words she utters Over the way. List ! and hear the golden sentence : — '' O, he is all the world to me ! " (I'm truly the star of her adoration) " O, Willie come back from over the sea ! " Alas ! the spell of my soul is broken, Just as of Heaven I catch one ray, Her words so soft, like daggers pierce me — Over the way. It little recks the distance over. Across the street or ocean wide. Or e'en across the world-wide spaces 'Twixt us and the eternal tide — If but the eye of love look over. And heart of true love beat for aye — It then is but a step to journey Over the way. 56 HOW LONG ? How Long? How long will the fireside circle Unharmed and unbroken remain, All free from every disaster, From weariness, trouble, and pain? How long ere the links will be parted In the marvelous, magical chain In the kingdom of home, and be scattered. Ne'er to be united again? How long, O, how long? How long ere those who swear friendship Will the last time swear and betray? They say they'll be faithful forever. While truly they're traitors to-day : HoAv long ere w^e find that their greetings Are cloaks for the hypocrite's heart ; That their words are as sunbeams at sunset Which soon into darkness depart? How long, O, how long? How long ere all our day dreams — Which reveal a better life. Above this grinding and plodding, Labor, vexation and strife, — THE poet's song. 57 Will with our real lives mingle, Refreshing as Heaven's dew? How long ere they will transform us, Thus making our dreams come true? How long, O, how long? The Poet's Song. Whence the song which the poet sings, That rises as upon angel wings From the depths of subtle mystery, And sweetly echoes from sea to sea. Not in man's mind is born the song That sways the world and rights the wrong, Not in schools is learned the lore That blooms in song forevermore. It never found its place of birth In palace or castle of the earth, And the proudest ruler's fostering care Can ne'er make bloom this flower so fair. This song in the inner court is born Of a human heart — it mav be torn 58 IMMORTALITY. By pangs of sorrow, by anguish riven, But if it be touched by fire from Heaven, The world is thrilled by a song divine, The earth's dark corners begin to shine ; Jubilant become the solitudes. While a spirit of joy o'er humanity broods ! Immortality. What do you see, Pilgrim, Upon your toilsome road, That points to immortality, To heaven and to God? What say the lofty mountains, That greet the wondering eye, Of those who, in the march of life, Wearied, lie down and die? What say the rushing rivers. That never cease to roll ; — What say they of the destiny Of the inner life — the soul? What voice comes from the azure, When studded o'er with stars, SLEEP AND REST. 59 Of the awful mystery of life? Who breaks death's iron bars? " I see no sign," says Pilgrim, " Amid earth's gathering gloom, By day or night, on land or sea, That points beyond the tomb. " The foliage and the verdure Of spring or summer time. Following winter's seeming death. Hint of a summer clime ; " But a clearer, surer witness. In the Gospel full and free. Brings forth to light eternal life, And immortality." Sleep and Rest. How sweet the deep rej^ose Of childhood w^hen at rest. Sleeping in safety and content Upon the mother's breast. Then comes not near The ghost of fear ; Nor sigh, nor tear, Nor bodings drear. GO SLEEP AND REST. O, welcome is the night To toilers of the day ! For then a drowsy mystery Bears them from cares away. Ref. The weightiest burdens lift From sleep of innocence ; The peasant in his lowly cot Then ranks with proudest prince. Ref. Sweet is the soldier's rest After the weary march Upon the breast of mother earth, Above, the starry arch. Ref. But sweeter, gladder far Is that which doth remain, When toil, and march, and strife are done, And friend greets friend again. Ref. And, crowning all, the rest To pilgrims who have trod The thorny path of life, upon The bosom of their God. Ref. TREASURES IN HEAVEN. 61 Our Heritage. God said, " Let there be light ! " Lo, on swift wings the night Fled from the earth away — Then sleeping nature woke As on the earth there broke The beams of the first day ; Then in God's own most glorious image, He Made man the heir of immortalitw What a rich heritage To youth or hoary age, To man strong in his prime ! O, let us treasure up This bright, celestial hope — The royalist star of time ! Then this rich heritage of the race will be A constant joy through all eternity. Treasures in Heaven, Earthly treasures — they may shine. Like the diamonds from the mine — They may purchase earthly fame, Carye on honor's scroll our name. 62 TREASURES IN HEAVEN. Can they bring us richest store, When this life shall be no more? Can thay purchase mansions grand In the blissful Beulah land? No, ah no ! they fade away Like the beams of dying day. Melt like wax in furnace heat, Pass our view on flving feet ! Only heavenly treasures last When all time and sense are past — Only wealth in faith and trust Shall survive the " dust to dust." Love to God and faith in Him, They shall nevermore grow dim ; Love to men, in Christ's dear name Sweeter is than earthly fame. Let us lay up heavenly store Where 'twill perish nevermore ! Then when ties of earth are riven, We shall treasures find in Heaven. UNDER THE STARS. 63 The Future. The Future patiently Waits for the coming years, And clasps them in his arms, With all their hopes and fears ; With all their joy and bliss, Their sorrow and their pain. As they become the past, He sighs, and waits again. Under the Stars. Poets sing of flowers that blossom Out in the meadows, one by one. Blooming in manifold hues of the rainl)ow Under the warming rays of the sun. I will tune my harp to the magic Of night, when slumber carking cares. And when the flowery kingdom sparkles And shows its glories under the stars. Under the stars of the summer heavens, Glowing like living coals in the sky, 64 UNDER THE STARS. Arm in arm fond lovers wander, Hearts attuned to harmony. Sweeter the look from the eyes of maiden, Fonder the light in her lover's eyes, Than if together they walked at mid-day Under the burning summer skies. Out in the cloudless winter evening, When earth's bosom is white with snow, The veil seems rent 'twixt earth and heaven, And the world above and ours below Meet within range of earthly vision. And the soul, its vision made more clear. Thinks it sees the light reflected From angels' wings in the higher sphere. Under the stars the flowers sparkle, Under the stars fond lovers walk. Through the stars the shining angels Soem of wondrous things to talk. Under the stars the veil seems riven, And weary pilgrims as they plod Long for the time when burdens are lifted, And hci/ond the stars they meet their God. CITY AND COUNTRY. 65 City and Country. Willie raked the fragrant hay In his father's sloping meadow, And, when weary, sought to rest 'Neath the maple's cooling shadow, And reclining there he thought, " O, how hard and poor my lot ! " Lost to him the glorious scene That, Avith light and beauty glowinj Spread before his sleepy eyes — Lost to him the breezes blowing. He saw not the river's crest, Nor, near by, the blue l)ird's nest. Longings had he all the while For the great and bustling city. Scorning work and country life ; Ah ! it is a crying pity That so many children dream That all things are what they seem. Willie now is grown a man, And his home the noisy Babel; As he backward turns his gaze. Dreams of youth seem but a fable. 66 THE FIRE ON THE HEARTH. And he wonders why he sought When a boy to change his lot. Fortune on him for a time Looked with bright and smiling features, And complacently he thought: " Happy are we city creatures, In this whirl of constant joy That doth our glad lives employ." But at length the dark days came. Bringing ruinous disaster ; Bankrupt health and bankrupt wealth Each became his cruel master; All in vain attempts to rise From the slough of miseries. Feeble now his step and slow, On him falls life's evening shadow. And his hope is when he dies, To be buried in the meadow. Where he raked the fragrant hay In the morning of life's day. The Fire on the Hearth.' The fire on the hearth was kindled Long and long ago. THE FIRE ON THE HEARTH. 67 On winter eves it sparkled, O, how bright its glow ! It warmed the ones who gathered Around the fireside old, And welcomed home the children At night within the fold. When, through the mountain gorges, The night winds wildly sped ; When snow the broad land covered. And nature's form looked dead, — They piled the oak wood higher. And added elm and pine. Until like stars of baauty. Did the live coals sparkle and shine. And when the crocus blossoms Peered through the damp spring mould ; And when May, flower laden. Came and banished the cold; When, from the very zenith. The sun poured vertical rays — The fire upon the heartstone Burned on through the nights and days. O, when the Lord of glory Builds fires of love and grace 68 FORTY ACRES FOR SARAH. Upon our poor hearts' altars, — Quench not nor yet efface ! But let the coals burn brightly, Till earth's toils, griefs and sighs Are changed for the joys of Heaven — For the bliss of Paradise. Forty Acres for Sarah. [The great; Buck will case of Sarah B. Rickabus, proponent, vs. John F. Gott, contestant.] Her witnesses, upon some points. Were vague, perhaps contrary. But every time they swore true-blue There were forty acres for Sarah. Michie, EUair, and Martin, too, Who witnessed the will, might vary About some things, but Avere always sure Buck left a '' Forty " to Sarah. All the rest, both goods and lands, To Elizabeth (not Mary), Was left by William Buck's last will, But the " Forty " was saved for Sarah. FORTY ACRES FOR SARAH. 69 Atkinson, Frazer, Prentis, Ward, And Howell might be merry, Or serious, in their arguments. The points were scored for Sarah. Dr. Smith might figure away As to when some one did marry, He could not switch the jury off From doing justice to Sarah. The sheriff and the clerk might chat While some jurors did tarry. But were alert and wide awake, When the battle waged for Sarah. Kinsella, with his spanking steed. Did the subpoenas carry, That brought the witnesses to swear That the " Forty " belonged to Sarah. And after all was said and done, Judge Chambers, a good judge — very — Laid down the law between John Gott And the proponent Sarah. The jury then filed out o' the room, And, in manner cautious and wary, 5 70 IN THE COUNTRY. Upheld the will of William Buck, And confirmed the " Forty " to Sarah. After Gott's appeal to Supreme Court, The parties the hatchet did bury ; The result is quite a handsome sum, Plus forty acres for Sarah. In the Country. Hear the sound of pattering feet, Hurrying out into the street ; Hear the cheery, glad, good-bye. Without tear, or sob, or sigh, And our little girls are gone, Left the smoky, dusty town. Gone with grandma to her home. Where there's room to run and roam, And where shouts made on the hill. Never bring the words "keep still." Berries may be picked at will At high noon, or evening chill. In the green fields all is free. There's the largest liberty ; IN THE COUNTRY. Glad streams gurgle, laugh and flow, Into valleys far below. — Pallid brow and cheek are fanned, By the breeze from God's own hand. Beauty glows in yonder sky ! Sun as monarch sitteth high — Sends his legion— sunbeams bright, Drives to ocean depths the night, Gives the trees their garb of green, Floods the world with wondrous sheen. Blooming wild flowers, here and there, Cast their fragrance on the air ; Waving grain and rustling corn Greet the eye at eve and morn, And the balm of new-made hay Floats upon the breeze away. Happy while the days are fair, While remains the balmy air, Are the girls from home away, With their ceaseless round of play. Joyous grandma laughs to see Happy girls from sorrow free. 72 LIFE. The Christmas Holidays. Swingeth Time's pendulum to and fro ; The days they darken and shorter grow, The sun soon hides from our longing gaze. Yet, after all, we have holidays. For there is a light in the heart that beams Like golden sheen on laughing streams. . Whether 'tis day or whether night Never fadeth this inward light. The sun that sheds this light of gold Never grows dim and never grows old, And when the night of death is come. It guides the Pilgrim unto his home. Cherish the sun that never goes down ! Welcome the light that leads to the crown ! Follow the light that doth heal and bless, Worship the Sun of Righteousness ! Life. There is no end to toil, A world of sorrow this ; LIFE. 73 We hope, we battle, strive For happiness and bliss — And miss. Ambition's fire-fly flame Leads on through damp morass ; When we the goal art nigh. Fate saith, '' Thou can'st not pass." Alas! We climb the mountain high, To view some landscape fair, And seeking triumph gain, Far in the upper air. Despair. And yet from lowest vale, If but by faith we see. Is viewed the Beulah land Of immortality. Through Thee. Thus overcoming all, Life's toils, and pains, and fears, At last is reached the goal Beyond this vale of years And tears. 74 TNE BLIZZARD. Here and There. Here are clouds and darkness, There are light and peace ; Here are toil and struggle, There we find release. Here faith shows us dimly The blessedness to come ; There is hope\s fruition Found in heaven our home. Here are warm, true friendships, Heart responds to heart ; There love rules eternal, We meet there ne'er to part. May we here so love Thee, God of truth and grace. That we there may know Thee — See Thee face to face. The Blizzard. I come from the mystic realms afar. The cave of the winds, 'neath an Arctic star, THE BLIZZARD. 75 Where never is felt the summer heat, Where never blooms the rose so sweet. Of vengeance fierce I am a part, In my breast is found a frozen heart ; I start on my journey of merciless woe, Clothed with wind and ice and snow. My voice is terrible in its wrath, As I speed in anger along my path. Swifter than eagle's wing my flight — I turn bright noon into black midnight. Whene'er you hear my trumpet blast. You may know I soon will be sweeping past ; Then hie ye away unto your home, For with me perils and dangers come ! I take the snow as soft as down And cast upon it an icy frown, And velvet flakes turn to icy beaks. That strike the face like dagger peaks. I pile the snow-banks mountain high, With icy missiles I fill the sky. And before my sickles travelers fall. The sky above them a funeral pall. 76 LINCOLN THE MARTYR. Strong habitations tremble and rock, Before the onset of my shock, And children wail and mothers weep As over the home I in fierceness sweep. There is no pity, or mercy, or love In the icy chariot in which I move ; Nothing but vengeance, wrath and hate, And in my track all is desolate. Lincoln, the Martyr. Up out of the damp, dark earth — Mould as black as the night — There peered a blade that grew and grew Up into the air and light ; As they passed by men looked and said : ^^ Behold the lily so ivhiteP^ Up out of the dark morass Of Egyptian humanity, Arose a soul as the lily white. Who lived to make men free ; As they pass his tomb the Ages say : " The Martyr of Liberty P' THE GREAT WORD. 77 The Great Word. When John Wesley was in Georgia he was introduced to a Cherolcee chief, to whom he dispensed the Word of Life. The chiel thanlied Wesley, and said, " I have heard of the Great Spirit, but never before of the Great Word." I have heard of a Spirit Great That rules the earth and sky, That me shall bear to my hunting-ground When my hour shall come to die. I see Him in the clouds, On the winds His voice I hear. And when in the midnight blast He speaks, My soul doth quake with fear. And yet, in the zephyrs soft, That fan my swarthy cheek. When summer evening shadows fall. He soothingly doth sj^eak. But I have never heard Till now of His good, great word. In the message in His book of love, 0, how my soul is stirred ! tell me, pale-face, more Of the Word so deep and broad. 78 MERRY CHRISTMAS. So high, so pure, and so complete,- This mighty Word of God! Merry Christmas. Be ye merry, Be ye cheery, On this Christmas day; Do not borrow Care or sorrow, Drive them far away. Let no trouble Like a bubble To the surface rise; Love well founded. Faith well grounded ; Look, then, toward the skies. Joy is springing, Hope is singing In our home to-day ; Christmas merry. Bright and cheery, Hail thee, happy day ! winter's coming. 79 Winter's Coming. A cold blast from the North All the air is filling, It strikes our mother Earth, Her broad bosom chilling ; It whistles and it shrieks With its fifing and its drumming, And shouts with prophet's ken ; "Winter's Coming!" The farmer gathers in The latest harvest's showing, Potatoes, apples, roots. In the cellar stowing. The corn is in the crib. And a maid is humming An air with this refrain, "Winter's Coming!" The birds of passage fly From our northern border. Like a bannered army Marching forth in order ; And with maiden and with blast In their humming and their drumming. 80 JOHN CHINAMAN ON THE WING. They cry from upper deeps, "Winter's Coming!" John Chinaman On The Wing. [" Chinese laborers may pass through this country, but they can't stay here."— Secretaa'y Frelinghuysen, January, 1883.] " John Chinaman, my Joe, John, Why do you go so fast? You seem to be a flying cloud. Sweeping, sailing past ; Your eyes are looking wild, John, Your look is that of fear, And down your cheek of sorrow, John, There flows the silent tear." " I'm carrying out your laws, Sam, In speeding o'er your land ; I'd gladly stop and toil, Sam, And grasp you by the hand. But Mr. Frelinghuysen says That 'when you reach our shore You must pass through our realm with speed, Much as we this deplore.' JOHN CHINAMAN ON THE WING. 81 " I used to, in the sunrise land, Hear of a western star. That shed its welcome, lustrous light, O'er the oppressed from far. I used to hear of Liberty As having a new birth ; That your's was the freest And brightest land on earth. I heard that here the sons of toil Were royal as a king ; That there was here no hated caste. Or any oppressive thing ; That each one in the race of life Had the same chance to win As every other in the race — That naught weighed down but sin. I heard that in the ' seventy-six,' You, as a feeble band. With God and right upon your side, Broke down the oppressor's hand. And in your Declaration said That all men were born free. With chartered rights to happiness, To life and liberty. 82 JOHN CHINAMAN ON THE WING. " I used to hear that starving men From Ireland here found bread, That German military rule Here gave her sons no dread ; That sons of Albion and of Spain, Of France and Italy, Of Scandinavia, Africa, And of islands of the sea, " And the oppressed from all the world Found here a resting place, And found a government of power One of abounding grace ; And so we of the morning land, — (Whose history goes so far Into the past, its early dawn Rests 'neath a morning star). " Thought we were the invited ones, And sailed across the sea; You welcomed us, and, lo ! we toiled At works of drudgery. We helped to send your flying trains Through mountains and o'er plain, Till the Pacific on the west Was linked to Atlantic's main. JOHN CHINAMAN ON THE WING. 83 But, like an orange you have sucked, You cast us now aside. And trample under foot a race As if its soul had died. But, 0, the day is coming, Sam, When dragon's teeth now sown, Will yield a harvest, dark and drear. Of Liberty o'erthrown. I speed across this boasted land Like the wind, and you care not For either wind or Chinaman So we soon leave this spot Where this great tree of Liberty Was planted long ago — But its leaves are taking on the hue Of a dark and deadly woe." 84 MARCH UP THE HILL OF TRIUMPH. March up the Hill of Triumph/ Why sit in the dark, damp lowlands, Peering through blinding mist ? Why grope your way through shadows Which the sunbeams ne'er have kissed? Why do I hear you sighing As if all hope had fled, And life's best aspirations Within your hearts were dead? I think I know my brothers, Why you in the valley stay ; You are weak, yet willing captives And under the awful sway Of a subtle, but mighty demon Who leads you at his will. And makes you in love with darkness, This serpent of the still. Why dwell in the vale of peril Under the serpent's spell? Why, listless, float on the current That leads to a drunkard's hell? Why so cheaply your life-blood barter? Why stain with guilt your soul? THE JUDGE SUPREME. 85 Why press your way towards ruin, When there is a glorious goal? Come up, then, men from the lowlands, Assert your God-like 2)owers ! March up the hill of triumph, Dwell mid perennial flowers ! The trumpet of God is calling. Your Captain, Christ, leads on — Ah ! soon may this mist and darkness Give place to a golden dawn ! The Judge Supreme; September's haz\^ sun shone down On prairie, grove and village street ; The people flocked to the County Town Where the District Court was about to meet. The Judge sat on the bench, the hour Arrived for opening — then '' hear ! hear ! " The Sheriff cried in tones of power, ^^AII persons ivith business here draw nearP^ Men's hats were doffed — a silence fell On all who sat in the crowded room ; 6 86 THE JUDGE SUPREME. Here and there was a face which a tale did tell, Of fear lest some impending doom Should fall, when juries should do their work And find some verdict for the State, Which, spite of technical quibble and quirk, Would lead to a Stillwater fate. The grand jury sat with eyes upturned To the judge — before him the statutes lay, — Frank and manly, courteous, learned, Firm, yet merciful was his sway. He expounded the law that governed their deeds, They listening to every word he said — Why does he stop? Alas ! there speeds A message that says, " Your child is dead! " Another hush on the court room fell Broken by sobs from every side, No pen can write, no words can tell. The father's anguish o'er the child that died. 'Twas a fair young girl, his only child. That morning filled with bounding life, And now at noon this spirit mild Has gone beyond earth's care and strife. The Court adjourned, and on flying train The Judge returned to his desolate home. PRESS ON. No earthly honors can ease his pain, Or still his wounded spirit's moan. Thus when are moving the wheels of life, When hearts are jubilant, hopes elate. Or when Courts meet for legal strife. The Judge Supreme decrees our fate. Press On ! 0, man ! though storms beat 'round thy path, And hide the sunlight from thy face, (As if He frowned in holy wrath,) Thy footsteps never backward trace ; But onward go through heat and cold. Through light and shade forever press ! Like the brave soldier, hardy, bold. And work and fight for righteousness ! And then a laurel wreath Will meet thee at the goal. And hope all radiant Will greet thy waiting soul. But stop not at the earthly goal. However high is carved thv name, 88 PRESS ON. For not on earth alone the soul Can reach the loftiest point of fame. By faith look out, beyond, above The rocky path, the battle-strife ! And onward press till land of love Is gained — blest land of light and life ! Then wreath unfading thine. Then crown of purest gold, And joys unsj^eakable. While the swift ajres roll. BSTIS. Notel. Next Door. The late Hiram J. Beakes, who died at Anu Arbor, Mich., May 20, 1882, for several years prior to his death was a member of the law firm of Beakes & Ciitcheon, (Judge Hiram J. Beakes and Hon. Sullivan M. Cutcheon,) whose offices comprised three rooms in the Seitz Block, Detroit. On the glass joanel of the door of the room occupied by Judge Beakes was this inscription : §5 H. J. BEAKES. ii I 88 §2 Entrance next door. ^^' •§ *•- - -, • ', - -, - - - ^1 eoBoec«ooo»o»o«o«'0«o«o»c«o«o«Oi»c. •o»o«o»o«S»o About a year after Judge B's death this inscription remained. At this time the writer — whose office faced on the opposite side of the corridor — saw workmen taking away the door referred to, in connection with the work of razing the building, and the question arose in his mind, ''Where now is 'next door,' with Judge Beakes? " And 90 NOTES. the queries were at once written in the form they appear in the initial poem of this book. Note 2. " In The Attic." The attic referred to is a light and commodious one, full of books, pictures and other things elevating to the mind. It is in that most delightful part of our beautiful Detroit called the Cass farm, which has broad avenues and deep lots, affording the advantages of a quiet retreat, and yet within reach of the *'low, faint roar" from Campus Martins. Longfellow says: ''The thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." In our day dreams the thoughts of us all are long, long thoughts. That bright and promising young lawyer, the late John J). Canfield, of Detroit, is brought to mind as I write this notice, for this poem was one he found rested his weary frame, as he in his long illness : '* Breasted the throbbing waves of life, However hard they beat." Note 3. Just in Time. The rescue of Lieut. Greeley and party, from the deadly perils staring them in the face in their icy prison house, during the summer of 1884, will live in song and storj^ while the world stands. The theme is worthy a Homer or Milton. The author could not resist the impulse that came upon him, while reading the first account of the rescue, to write, though with feeble pen, the thoughts sug- gested by the remarkable event. NOTES. 91 Note 4. The Darkness Within. The ancient mariners upon the Mediterranean knew there must be a great sea to the westward, but their igno- rant, superstitious minds pictured it as a sea of darkness, full of deadly perils. So they hugged the shore of the Mediterranean and furled sail at the Gates of Hercules. Note 5. Detroit River. From the 10th day of May, 1850, when the writer landed at the Woodward Avenue wharf, from the steamer Atlantic, from Buffalo, till the present time, the writer has been enthusiastic in his admiration for the noble river that flows by this beautiful city. In October, 1883, his enthusiasm took form in verse, the immediate inspiration thereof being an address of welcome delivered on October 2, 1883, by Rev. Dr. Z. Eddy, then pastor of the Fort street Congregational Church, to the American Board of Com- missioners for Foreign Missions, then convened at the Cen- tral M. E. Church, especially the following extract there- from : "It never runs low, it never overflows its banks. It is clear, full, inexhaustible, like the river of life." Note 6. Old Gray Rock. Suggested by a sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. W. W. Ramsay, July, 1883, in Central M. E. Church, Detroit, from the text (Ps. 119, 160): ^^ Thy xl' or d is true from the beginning,''^ 92 NOTES. Note 7. Fremont. Written in 1802, upon the appointment of Gen, John C. Fremont to the command of tlie Mountain Department of. Virginia. Note 8. North Star State. Although Minnesota is the home of the bhzzard, she keeps step in tlie march of progress with states that have more balmy air and skies. If tlie reader consults a map of this great state, he will see that the lakes and rivers are numerous. The Red River runs northerly, the Minnesota southerly, the Otter Tail westerly, and the Mississippi easterly and southerly ; and other rivers are equally diverse in their courses. The writer resided in Minnesota from 1868 to May 1873, and witnessed many signs of pro- gress. During 18G9 over 2,000 miles of railroads were built. Note 9. In Memoriam. Abraham Lincoln. — The world is familiar with the life and tragic death of this great apostle of liberty. It was the writer's high privilege to hear his two last public addresses Lyman Cochrane. — The first judge of the Superior Court of Detroit,' died February 5th, 1879, aged 54 years, after an illness of a day or two ; warm-hearted, scholarly, equable and just; he was mourned by all classes of citizens. David Preston. — Died suddenly Sunday morning, April 24, 1887, at his home in Detroit, aged 60 years. He was a banker who attended to his calling, yet his life was NOTES. 93 crowded with works of love and charity, with words of ap- peal and love to the unsaved, with greetinj^s to his friends, whose name was legion. He was a trustee of the Central M. E. church, Detroit, j'-et his great heart took in tlie world in its sympathies. Any adequate account of his life of faith and good deeds would till a volume. George A. Ross.— A large lumber dealer at Detroit, died July 28, 1885. He was a brave officer in the Union Army during the war, and a trustee of the Central M. E. church at the time of his death. He was a successful busi- ness man, a tru-e friend and a very active and devoted Christian. Joiix MoTTE Arnold, D. D. — Died suddenly at Detroit, December 5, 1884, aged 61 years, tie wus lai eminent divine and writer. For several years prior to his death he was the editor of the Michigan Christian Advocate. John Willyoung. — A Detroit merchant, and trustee of the Central M. E. church, died at the midniglit of Saturday, December 1, 1882, just as the Sabbath was ushered in. He was warm-hearted, intelligent, manly, industrious, and a true Christian. Rev. James B. Atchinson. — A clergyman of the De- troit Conference of the M. E. church, died at Midland City, Mich., July 15, 1882, aged 42 years. He was gifted with many good qualities of the head and heart. He was a successful composer of music, and a fine vocalist as well. Sadie Campbell. — She was the beautiful and promis- ing little daughter of Mr. and jNIns. Edv.ard A. Campbell, and died at Litchfield, Minn., in the autumn of 187:). I 94 NOTES. have not the exact date at hand. The verses were written in the spring of 1874, about one year after the v/riter saw the child in her home. Maurice Howell Hall. — He was the son of Wm. T. and Eva H. Hall, of Waterford, Michigan, and died Bun- day, August 8, 1881, aged 7 months and 11 days. His twin bi'other Willie is now quite a boy. Note lO. Pillow of Promises. One night after the writer had for hours tossed rest- lessly upon his pillowy finding no sleep, there began to come to his mind, like flashes of light, promises from God's word. They came in legions. Some of them had not been in his thoughts for years. They soon diverted his thoughts from all things sublunary, and ere he was aware, he was asleep on the pillow of promises. Note 11. Sunrise on the Prairies. The Prairies referred to are neiir the ''Big Woods," and in Meeker County, Minnesota, where the surface is undulating. Numerous beautiful lakes and groves help to make the scene like one in fairy land. The dead level prairie, unrelieved by lake or tree or shrub, may inspire awe as it stretches away beyond the horizon's rim. Yet its monotony soon brings a sense of loneliness to the be- holder. Such prairies as are imperfectly described in the poem would set a dull heart on fire with enthusiasm, and inspire the soul with awe and reverence in thus drinking in the glories that He sheds upon his handiwork. NOTES. 95 Note 12. The Big Prairies. These are known in Minnesota of the region west of the " Big Woods," which latter are embraced in a belt of timber stretching from the Mississippi river to a point about sixty miles west of that river. The " Big Prairies " stretch away to the Eocky Momitains, with only here and there any timber. Note 13. Love's Immortality. In the drama of Ion, as the death-devoted Greek is about to meet his fate, his beloved Clemantha asks : ''Shall we meet again?" He replies: ''I have asked that dreadful question of the hills that look eternal, of the clear streams that flow on forever, of the stars amid whose fields of azure my spirit has walked in glory, and they were dumb ; but as I look upon thy living face I feel that there is something in the love that mantles through its beauty that cannot wholly perish. We shall meet again, Clemantha." Note 14. Immortality. This poem was suggested by a sermon delivered by the Rev. Dr. J. H. Bayliss, in the Central M. E. Church, of Detroit, in July, 1881, he being then pastor. The gen- eral thought of the sermon was that nature, at most, only hints at immortality, whiil the gospel brings it forth to light. 96 NOTES. No. 15. The Fire on the Hearth. In the summer of 1884 an item was floating through the press to the effect that an old gentleman had died in North Carolina who had never allowed the fire to go out on the hearthstone, night or day, winter or summer. In this he followed the example of his father before him. Note 16. March up the Hill of Triumph. This was written after hearing Francis Murphy, the great temperance orator, deliver a most eloquent gospel temperance address at Beecher Hall, Detroit, D. Bethume Dufiield presiding. In one portion of his speech he ad- dressed liimself to the slaves of the appetite for strong drink — beckoning meanwhile with his right hand — in some- thing like the following style: "Come out, men, from slavery into liberty, from darkness into liglit. Turn your backs upon the demon drink, make Excelsior your motto, kingly men, and march up to the summit of the hill of triumph ! " Some men were so moved by the appeal that they rose partly up from their seats. No. 17. The Judge Suprej-ne. At the term of the I>istrict Court for the county of Meeker, Minnesota, which convened at Litchfield on the second Tuesday of September, 1871, soon after the conven- ing of the Court, and while the Hon. Chas. E. Vander- burgh, the presiding Judge, was instructing the Grand Jury, he received a telegram from his home in Minneapolis, NOTES. 97 announcing that his only daughter, a promising girl of twelve, years, had fallen into a cistern and drowned. Judge Vanderburgh is now one of the Judges of tlie Supreme Court of Minnesota. He is an able and upriglit jurist, and a popular and highly esteemed citizen. Hon. Wm. M. Campbell, now II. S. Marshal for Minnesota, was then Sheriff of Meeker County. He was a model. Sheriff and he is now a model Marshal. S. W. Leavitt was the efficient Clerk of the District Court in 1871. Among the lawyers present were Judge A. C. Smith, Francis Belfoy^ and Henry Hill (all three now dead), Edward A. Campbell, Charles H. Strobeck, and Chas. B. Howell. Mr. Stro])eck now holds the office of Judge of Probate, then held by Mr. Howell. Mr. Campbell is practicing law in Minneapolis. Forty Acres for Sarah. Mrs. Rickal)us, the adopted daughter of William Buck, deceased, sought to probate Mr. Buck's alleged lost will, which devised property valued at $30,000, situated in Crosse Pointe, near Detroit. Mr. John F. Gott, Buck's nephew, contested the will. Mrs. Rickabus won three times before juries in the Wayne Circuit Court, and once in the Supreme Court. Mr. Gott won in the Probate Court before Judge Durfee, and once before a jury. One jury disagreed, and the last time the case was in the Supreme Court it was ar- gued but not decided, the same being settled, before the Court passed upon it. The case was begun in April, 1880, and was settled in 1887. The attorneys named in the verses are Wm. F. Atkinson,* Eobert E. Frazer, and C. B. Howell, 98 NOTES. for Mrs. Rickabiis ; and George H. Prentis, B. T. Prentis, and John Ward, for Mr. Gott. Mr. Frazer and Mr. Ward were not in the case till the last trial. The law in regard to lost wills was most thoroughly presented on both sides. There is no knowing when the case would have finally ended or which side would have finally won, had the parties not settled. Sleep and Rest. The reference to the soldier's rest under the starry arch was suggested by a description of the march of the 22d Michigan Infantry from Lexington to Crab Orchard, Kentuck}", during the war, and of their sleeping in blankets upon the ground. W. H. Merrithew, who wrote the de- scription for the Pontiac Gazette, added: "The sweetest rest of all is on the bosom of mother earth, watched by sentinel stars overhead, which wait not, halt not, but shine on forever." My interest was deepened in Mr. Merrithew's article by the fact that a younger brother of mine was a member of that regiment, and gave up his life for his country on the soil of Kentucky.