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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
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 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
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 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 The Library of Congress 
 
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 http://www.archive.org/details/whittiergemsOOwhit 
 
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 WHITTIER GEMS 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 LOUIS K. HARLvOW 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 SAMUEL E. CASSINO 
 
 1889 
 

 ■Reprinted by Permission of Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 
 Copyright, 1888, by S. E. Cassino. 
 
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 SNOIV-BOUND. 
 
 The old familiar sights of ours 
 
 Took marvellous shapes ; strange domes ami towers 
 
 Rose up -where sty or corn-crib stood, 
 
 Or garden-wall, or belt of wood; 
 
 A smooth white mound tJje brush-pile showed, 
 
 ^fenceless drift what once was road; 
 
 The bridle-post an old man sat 
 
 With loose-flung coat and high cocked hat ; 
 
 The well-curb had a Clnnese roof; 
 
 <iAnd even the long sweep, high aloof. 
 
 In its slant splendor, seemed to tell 
 
 Of Pisa's leaning miracle. 
 

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SEEKING OF THE WATERFALL. 
 
 Fringing the stream, at every turn 
 Sating low the -waving fronds of fern ; 
 From stony cleft and mossy sod 
 Pale asters sprang, and golden-rod. 
 
 And still the -water sang the sweet. 
 Glad song that stirred its gliding feet, 
 ^nd found in rock and root the keys 
 Of its beguiling melodies. 
 
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THE LAST WALK IN AUTUMN. 
 
 cAlong the river's summer walk. 
 
 The withered tufts of asters nod; 
 
 And trembles on its arid stalk 
 
 The hoar plume of the golden-rod. 
 
 And on a ground of sombre fir. 
 
 And aitire-studded juniper. 
 
 71}e silver birch its buds of purple shows. 
 
 And scarlet berries tell where bloomed the 
 
 sweet wild-rose ! 
 
 
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IN SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 Still sits the scbool-hoiise by the road, 
 A ragged beggar sunning; 
 Around it still the sumachs grow, 
 And blackberry-vines are running. 
 
 Within, the master's desk is seen. 
 Deep scarred by raps official ; 
 The warping floor, the battered ssats. 
 The jack-hnife's carved initial ; 
 
 The charcoal frescos on its wall ; 
 Its door's worn sill, betraying 
 The feet that, creeping slow to school. 
 Went storming out to playing! 
 
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THE MERRIMACK. 
 
 No bridge arched thy waters save that 
 
 ■where the trees 
 Stretched their long arms above thee and 
 
 hissed in the breeze : 
 No sound save the lapse of the waves on 
 
 tljy shores. 
 The plunging of otters, the light dip of 
 
 oars. 
 
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