-A Class ./CJrjfJ // COPSRight DEPosm MX HP TREDERICKTELD St XPYoLA UNIVERSITY TRE& <••>'. WALSK^ >V1 .^ <^u COPYRIGHT, 1916 By Loyola University Press OCT 14 1916 ©CI.A445128 (Etmtente Page In the Plush Armchair ........ 1 1 Across the Bay 13 Hail, Kindly Cedars! Hail! 15 The Shelter Seekers 16 The Storm King 18 The Brook 20 Song of the Night .22 Come Robin! ........... 24 The Violet's Invitation 25 Evening 27 The North King 28 Judge Not 33 The Braver Knight 34 True Love 35 My Little Friend 39 The Fallen Oak 41 Glimpses 44 "The wisdom of a discreet man," Sonnet ... 49 Wouldst Still Be True? 50 Page The Face of God 51 To the Infant Jesus 53 What Wouldst Thou Have? 55 He Maketh all Things as They Are .... 57 Here in the Chapel's Dusky Aisle Apart ... 59 To Mary 63 The Assumption 65 Mother Mine 71 What War Can Do 75 A Light Through the Darkness 77 Up, Sluggard, and Away! ....... 79 How Bill Forgave 81 Quid Pro Quo .84 Kusa-Hibari 86 Unavailing Tears .91 But Once . 92 Home 94 Be Thou Trustful . . 95 The Truest Alms 99 Death 100 Eternal Love 101 The Titanic 102 Ruth and Harold 107 Page His Only Plea 131 The Bumble-bee 133 The Fatuous Fly 135 Exit Old Year 137 A Tale of Strife 138 A Ballad to the Jingo 140 Tale of Aunt Ruth 142 >ktim of (Sfattqj 2ln i\\t piuslf ^xmt\\mx <3jJITTLE NELL in the firelight's glare, Lolled in the dear old plush armchair; And playful shadows frollicked round Here and there with never a sound. Little Nell with the sunny face, The rich brown curls, and the nameless grace, Fell asleep in the old armchair, Smiling down on its burden fair. Would you know what the old chair said, As it gazed on the little curly head? It tenderly spake with a tearful smile, As old sad thoughts came home the while : "The years are long, but the years go by, And the young grow up, while the old must die ; And there's never in life a guarantee That its stream shall glide on peacefully; "And whether come joy, or whether come woe To thee, little maid, only God can know ; But the lustre of purity on thy brow, Angels keep it as bright as now ! "Angels, keep it as fair and bright As it rests on my bosom here to-night; For nothing is half so sweet to me As the couch I give to innocency." ^crnss % Jiag ^ERE on this cliff stand thou with me and gaze ^» Down on the huddled waters while the rays From yonder stalwart, cheery lighthouse-tower Pour on the bay their soft and silken shower. No truant breeze to fret the tide nor stir : Sweet silence speaks and silence answers her. Calm as with mystic calm the waters are: Not always so these waters round the bar; For when thunders crash And levins flash O'er the panic herds of the sea; And breakers dash With a swirling splash Far up on the great stone quay; When the ship t)' the wave Is the Storm King's slave; And he snorts in his madcap glee; And the seaman brave Sees yawning grave In gorge of the tossing sea; 13 Oh, then yon light Gleams starry bright, — Emblem of hope and cheer; Leads from the night, — Out o' the fight, — Into the haven clear. A blessing on thee, watch-tower, brave and bold Fit symbol thou for souls of princely mould, That scatter benedictions as they go, And deem it gain to succor human woe. We style them heroes, and in sooth 'tis well, Whose deeds the angels pause to chronicle. 14 ■&ml, ^mfrlg debars! $wll (}BH, here's a glee to the cedars, Our staunch old friends and true. What boots the snow, when the wild winds blow ; For never a change do the cedars know All the long years through. And here's a lilt to the cedars, Sturdy of frame and mien. Where the lordly oak tree's pride is fled ; And he stares as a Gorgon, stark and dead, There be the cedars green. A toss of my cap to the cedars, The lovingest trees that be. The time tides roll and the seasons veer, Yet tender, sweeter year by year, My cedars are to me. A parting word to the cedars, For a friend of the cedars I. They'll give in death what in life they gave, When they keep their vigils near the grave Where under the sod I lie. 15 Wqt jilfelto jiedtar* ^EARS ago while the moon rained down ^A silver shower on Bethlehem town, And the earth lay pranked in wintry dress Of furs all white in their loveliness; And crisp, chill winds from the northland blew, As it is their surly wont to do ; — In the hush of eve long years ago, Seeking a rooftree from the snow, Two weary, footsore pilgrims came. By many a door in God's sweet name He craved for the Lady shelter's boon, 'Neath the silent gaze of the queenly moon. O surely none could say them nay ! Was this not driving Heaven away ? 16 Shelter he craved for the Lady there, With the angel face and the winsome air; But never a hearth did welcome them 'Mong the townsfolk there in Bethlehem; And never a word spake they, may be, To blunt their cold discourtesy; And none of the townsfolk ever knew Who at their doors did knock and sue ; Just one little star had a great delight, 'Twould tryst by the blessed crib that night ; But the sad-eyed moon did say "Amen ! They shall not pass this way again !" 17 Ws\t ^tem png ^E comes with flaunting banners high, C* A lurid wraith in yonder sky. Deep rumblings tell me he is near ; And well I watch with straining ear ; While vesper chime from yonder bell Floats velvet tone athwart the dell. The blast veers north, the hush dissolves; The hurtling vanguard swift revolves. A tumult rives the atmosphere; Whelmed nature crouches as with fear. The little warblers quickly fly To shelt'ring limb or covert nigh. The storm is on, down pours the rain ; Like flail to lash my window pane. The shutters creak with ghostly sound, As 'twere doomed spirits stalked around. One cannot see the light of day; Cimmerian dark owns despot sway. 18 He roars, — the Storm King, — terribly; And wildly through heaven's canopy, He tears and rages, howls and shrieks ; And strews the sky with jagged streaks; Making the coward trees bend so, Well-nigh they sweep the turf below. The roar and din have passed away ; And golden peace succeeds the fray. Fast flees the rout to distant hills ; While sundarts glint on myriad rills. The swift mounts up in dizzy flight To hail the new born sky's delight. Anon sweet Hesper, jeweled queen, Bursts out upon the twilight scene. Some ling'ring remnants of display Still glorify the bygone day. And so life's storms oft disappear, When calm new found is doubly dear. 19 tl% ^@rmrk 'IJiTLOW on, dear brooklet, ^> So sweetly, So fleetly! On by green nooklet, Wouldst scarce let me look, yet Mine eye sees thee well. Spurning the shoulder — While springing And singing, — Of cairn and of boulder, Where mossy oaks moulder On strand in the dell. Whirling and dashing Now hither, Now thither, Where fishes dart flashing, And wild birds go splashing In sport all the day. Time cannot stay thee From dancing And glancing : Nor foe e'er dismay thee, Nor aught e'er delay thee At all on thy way. Willow down bending Seems weeping And keeping Up ever lamenting The wavelets' tormenting As onward they roam. Ever in motion 'Tis going And flowing With never a notion Of peace till the ocean Welcomes thee home. jlmtg of % |£%ljt '^[IS a night too lovely for slumber,- Why dream such a night away? The Fairies are out in the open; And moonbeams dance on the bay. The cricket snug hid in his corner, Chirps on to his soul's content; While the Brownies leap and tumble In frolicsome merriment. By yonder purling brooklet, Where waist-high sedges grow, The bullfrog sits demurely, Chanting his deep basso. The watchdog bays in his kennel; The owl hoots shrill to the moon; While chanticleer greets his neighbor, Afar over vale and dune. And I hear strange word of mourning, — Weary, and weird, and slow : 'Tis the whip-poor-will's song so lonely, Upborne from the glen below. Eleven strokes from the belfry, — Softly they float on the gale; And into the harbor of dreamland Our ships would lazily sail. But no ! On, on with the Fairies ! 'Tis a time to be blithe and gay : So we'll up and dance till Aurora Flings open the gates of day. 23 (ftmtte JRdbm! fILT thou return ere long, my feathered friend, And where the wonted elm makes shady bower Fit out thy downy cradle as of yore; And from thy verdant spray by zephyr tossed, Pour out thy madrigals with liquid throat, To bid the leaden time of care be gone, And call me slugabed at dawn of day With teasings of thy matin serenade? I pine for thy return, — speed thou the time ; And loyal be unto thy friends of eld ! Alackaday ! My wrath is kindled new, When I recall the direful tragedy That wrecked thy cozy home, abortive made Thy toilful striving all ; and changed, — ah me ! Thy gladsome carols into requiems. Yet if thou canst forget the wicked past; And at the instance of the Spring new born, To former haunts in winged haste return To dight thy nest in yonder crotch secure As in the yester time, I swear to thee No ruffian jay or sparrow e'er again Shall make thy habitation desolate. 24 tDp T8uM% 3«Kta&m «3| GROW unbidden ^ A voilet I. In cranny hidden, I woo the sky. "Wouldst thou a wild flower? Lo ! Here I be ! A sunshine dower I'll be to thee. "Meet haunt for fairy This shady nook ; Where birds make merry, And purls the brook. "Come lilt in gladness Thy ballad gay; A truce to sadness On such a day." 25 II "My runes come slowly, Wouldst have me try? My viol is lowly, Dear plant," said I. "My strains not soaring: My secret art Is peace outpouring, Where bleeds some heart. "Here reigneth laughter: Ask not this thing ! Anon hereafter, Dear plant, I'll sing." 26 ^Brsttmg 'tfTTIS eve, — 'tis eve, — The day's reprieve. Night's glittering tears upon the plain Bewail the crimson day-god slain; And silence sacro-sanct doth hold In villeinage a dreaming wold. Above yon russet, rock-ribbed height, Chaste Dian lingers fair of sight. In slumber doth she seem to rest Her head on yonder hillock's crest; And Titan shades armed cap-a-pie, Like swarming clans the day defy. 27 ©je ^mrtJf pttg *"!M SAT me near the hearth's faint nickering flame; ~ A thousand fairy fancies went and came, While cold and cruel raged the wintry gale Along the barren hill and frozen vale. I nodded, drowsed, and in unfettered sleep, I wandered, fancy free, the trackless deep. Far upward in the Arctic's icy waste, Methought I saw on crystal fabric placed, Enthroned the North King, clad in regal state, Whose slightest nod a menial host await. 'Twas where the foot of man had never strayed ; His eye had ne'er the glorious scene surveyed. 'Twas where no venturous bark e'er skimmed the brine ; Where peaks ice-crested in the sunlight shine. 'Twas where the monarch holds perpetual sway; Where frozen deeps his every wish obey. See ! myriad snowflakes in a whirl descend, And copse and brake in trembling agony bend; The meadows now in glittering shrouds are wrapped, And icy fetters on the streams are clapped : 28 'Tis now I know the tyrant's spell is cast On land and sea, — the Ruler of the blast. Then whistling, howling, shrieking on his way, I see him hurtling on through all the day. The playful fountain gushing erst with life, Where roses glowed and violets were rife, Stands stark in death, a horror in its gaze, Its music frozen, hushed its roundelays. A palace towering toward the frigid skies Stands glittering with a thousand varied dyes. No onset of the North Wind's raging powers Can shake its green-hued battlements and towers. A crystal gate gives entrance to the hold, When havoc-sated, king and minion bold, Quit southern climes, and in the castle great Hold wassail high and rule their proud estate. With rarest frostwork all the portals beam, And myriad glowing crystals glint and gleam. The stately monarch treads a man of might, With jeweled sceptre, crown, and vesture white. E'en as King Aeolus did in bondage keep Unruly winds that strove their bounds to leap, So, too, in crystal caverns pent secure, The North King holds his blustering vassals sure. 20 At times on pleasure bent the king goes forth To hunt the monsters of the frigid North. Then winged sea-fowl and the sporting seal And polar bears his fateful presence feel. Oft, too, some hapless ship that plows the main Is hurled in fragments o'er the watery plain. The hunt tears on beneath the northern lights That flame aloft and crimson all the heights. In sledge of gold the king pursues the chase, And like a meteor flashes into space. Whe-ew ! What's this ? My wandering wits return, The fires no longer on the hearthstone burn. My limbs are numb, I'm shivering with the cold. Confound old Morpheus and the North King bold ! 30 (Plfr ®fymtgifte m ^Ixtzztz ^izfo Hbxxbge pitd T| WOULD not have thee judge my heart ™ By what the outward eye can see; To judge my heart is Heaven's part, And Heaven will kindliest deal with me. The heart is our own citadel, Which God alone can penetrate. No mind can tell or know so well Our thoughts and whence they emanate. To harsher thoughts say thou adieu. Are milder judgments not the best? The kindliest view comes soonest true, When deeds are put to certain test. To judge thy neighbor be thou slow; And peaceful shall thy slumber be. On friend or foe, do thou bestow Thy sweet and gentle charity. 33 t% grafter pmgljt ^|F thou couldst take thy needy brother's place And be the pleader at another's door, Wouldst feel aggrieved if so he turned his face Nor gave thee aught from out his ample store? Couldst thou but change thy lot for just a while. And have as he, thy brother's heart of woe, Wouldst lightly prize the cheery word or smile Thou gavest not, but now thou cravest so? There's many a sorrow thou shalt never know; The greater burden seeks the stouter soul. Thy brother's shield can bear a sturdier blow; Else had there been for him a lighter dole. 34 ®n» J&tibz MOULD ST know the most delightful song,- The sweetest man can sing? The tongueless anthem deep and strong, That finds the wonted phrase too long, The flaming heart's outpouring sigh, 'Tis this that penetrates the sky And captivates the King. Where love divine kindleth a heart, Convention it defies. Then does it scorn set laws of art : Like eagle skyward does it dart. The best of what it has it gives ; Yet being poor it richer lives ; And lives whereof it dies. 35 Sit ^Ramhtas ^txz attfr tEtfm ,J% Otitic Jjrtenh •QTHERE is a little miss I meet, — I pass her daily on the street; She greets me with a smile so sweet That I am captivated. A fairy she, scarce seven years old ; About her head play locks of gold; No rose is fairer to behold Than she, when all is stated. She is like one of those, — ah me ! That climbed the Savior's gentle knee ; And felt His hand so lovingly Upon their silken tresses. And when she asks me, "How are you?" Just as all grown up persons do, I make a serious answer to Her ladylike addresses. 39 God bless my cheery little friend ! Her artless ways I would not mend ; I'd have her thus unto the end, Could I but have my pleasure. Methinks full surely God has given This sunny sprite of years scarce seven, To closer link my heart to heaven, And there to place my treasure. 40 3% JfaUcn ©afe 'MPON the river's shingly beach there lies '-Pa.rt 'mersed and part exposed, what erstwhile was Some forest pride, — an ancient bole of oak. Whence came it there, no human tongue could tell. No doubt when I am gone and laid to rest, Full many a stranger wandering there will pause, And speculate upon its age, and draw Reflection from its melancholy plight. Black storms have raged and uttered fierce and loud Their execrations o'er that monarch dead. Descending rains have drenched, and monster waves Have whelmed him o'er and o'er; and water birds In rapid flights have gloated o'er his head; He heeds them not; but lieth there outstretched Like some Leviathan in shackles bound, — All powerless and yet defiant still Unto the last. The vermeil blush at eve, The moon's caress or frolic of the stars, A dawn imparadised at early morn, Or winter's downy largess falling down Are one to him, — he marks their presence not. 4i Time was when 'mong his brothers of the wood, That he could glory in his rugged strength ; Could laugh to scorn the onset of the gale; And look the blue of heaven in the face ; And hearken to the chansons of the birds ; And shelter them upon his gnarled limbs; And catch the forest's murmured symphony Of swaying boughs ; and hear the vagrant owl Make ghostly din; and sustenance afford Unto the squirrel, his merry little friend. What destiny unkind has laid him low? Wouldst thou to heaven soar on wing of fame? Wouldst have thy name and deeds emblazed fore'er On tablet of a deathless age, that men Of dawning generations thee may hail As Corypheus of thy fellows all? Wouldst have men chant in honeyed word of praise Thy fame as poet, orator, savant? Vain, — vain will all such glory be to thee When thou thyself art mouldering in the dust. The tooth of time will leave thee as yon oak, — A thing of wretched helplessness to point A moral to each straggler passing by. 42 So part we, fallen monarch of the wood ! Let none presume with taunt disdainful then To blast thy memory, or deem accursed Thy lot. High heaven f orf end ! Hast nobly wrought ; Hath shed o'er man and beast thy canopy Of cooling shade; hast bared thy rugged breast To blighting thunderbolts, that else to earth Had crashed thy lesser kindred of the grove; Hast braved thy century of chilling blasts ; Hast yielded of thy fruitage lavishly; And fired youth to deed of high emprise In emulation of thy sturdiness. Thou saidst thy Nunc Dimittis worthily. To thee all hail ! 43 (Ultmp 825 [HEN brightly shines the sun by day And balmy zephyrs blow ; I'll ramble, — ramble far away, — I reck not where I go. To some sequestered nook I'll stray, And find a bower there, Where redbreast robin's roundelay Enthralls the ambient air. A dainty patch of sun-kissed sky Will greet me through the trees : Some year-scarred oak may charm my eye To martial rhapsodies. Should chance impel me to yon stream, How softly I shall tread; And watch the sportive fishes gleam Above their mossy bed; Where virgin lilies white as snow Coquet the vagrant breeze; And clumps of sweet wild flowers grow To tempt bold robber-bees. 44 And pasture lands full oft I'll pass Where cattle pause to drink ; Or browse on plot of tender grass Beside the river's brink. I'll steal upon the water rat; And silent in the shade, I'll view him near the habitat His nightly toil has made. And gorgeous sunsets I may see To thrill me with delight ; Until night's sombre tapestry Shuts out their glories bright. I've seen Apocalyptic fires Of colors who should say; As if upon their blazing pyres The Sun had passed away. But ah ! whene'er such sights I see, — Such glimpses as I stray, I ken that Thou, my Deity, Art not so far away. 45 >ur0Mtt (Eorfc a jimtnet 'The wisdom of a discreet man is to understand his way.'' —Prov. XIV-8. *3J ASK me not for dalliance path of ease, Where sunlit stretches ever thrill the eye ; While song birds throated red entreat the sky; And rosebursts flame their tinted ecstasies. Nay, soul of mine ! Life's cunning witcheries Leave we to fools who are content to buy Brief hour of bliss for one eternal sigh — Whose pleasure knells their dead souls' obsequies. I would discern of bitterness the sweet ; Kiss tenderly my rood of little pains; Make nothingness to coin me golden gains; Learn wisdom's folly at my Master's feet; And hear from Him : "Right nobly hast thou wrought ; Thy loaned bond hath premium richly brought." 49 'oidtat^ttU^^ntt? fjTHOU dost avow thy friendship leal and true. So be it then. Yet if the veil should rise, As aye it will, and to thine eager eyes My bloody Cross in shame should stand to view, Wouldst still be true? Wilt cleave to Me till death, dost thou maintain? So be it then. Yet if the rod should bend To smite and scourge thee till thy spirit send Aloft its wail of piteous pleading pain, Wouldst still be true? If I should levy impost on thy heart, And quench from galaxy of love each one Of those fair stars thou fondly dotest on, Couldst see a Father's hand in all thy smart? Wouldst still be true? And if I stripped thee bare, as frost the tree, Till there, amid the dead leaves scattered round, Only the naked trunk should cumber ground, — How now? Wouldst falter not? Still cling to Me? Wouldst still be true? So m\t Jface of (§ab •QTHERE are no pangs to souls forlorn Where riven hearts are aching, Nor tears of childhood's sunny morn Which are not of thy making, O Sorrow, that from pole to pole, Dost yield us all thy bitter dole ! The rose we pluck in beauty's blow Gives sadness in the taking; There's sorrow in the sunset's glow Our wistful eyes forsaking. How strange the mixture in our joy, The gaining which but brings alloy. Our loves are purest, so we deem, Where stricken self lies sighing : Just as the rainbow's loveliest beam Yet lovelier seems in dying; And from the cradle to the grave, The heart's best gifts 'twas sorrow gave. 5i There is one object over all, 'Tis heaven when we view it ; There's but one thing which cannot pall, But losing which we rue it, — The Face of God, — oh yes, 'tis this Shall flood with tide of perfect bliss. 52 ®0 l\\t ^nfant $£8u* jgEAR Infant Jesus, Mary's Child, Down steep of love to earth beguiled, While gentle sleep Thine eyelids keep, To where Thou slumb'rest on Thy Mother's breast I'll noiseless creep, One happy moment to abide Thy guest. Oh ! stealthily I'll creep and soft. What if Thou raise Thine eyes aloft To find near Thee Unworthy me ? And yet Thou durst not banish me, I trow; For tenderly Thy Mother's smile must plead for me, I know. But woe is me, — Thou art awake ! I bend the knee and reverence make. The shepherds there Are bowed in prayer, The while Thou stretchest forth Thy tiny arms With smile so fair, That all my fears give way before Thy charms. 53 Then let me ask of Thee one thing, — One thing, — dear little Infant King: To love Thee so Through weal or woe, That Thou shalt come, not as a Judge severe- My Jesus, no ! But smilingly, as in sweet childhood's year. 54 If at pfmififct tElpro Jfafe? [HAT shall I proffer Thee, my gracious King? What firstling to Thine altar shall I bring? The world is Thine with all it can unfold Of daedal splendor, gem, and precious gold. Acclaim they not Thy handicraft divine This tenement of clay and soul of mine? And is there aught for me to give this day Which was not wholly Thine before, I pray ? As silvery dewfall cometh answer sweet: "Dear one, give Me thy heart, thy love : 'tis meet. Be sure of this : there is not other key To open wide the door that leads to Me." God pleads with thee where man would domineer. He pleads with all ; few souls there are that hear. Yet marvel not; the world enamored is Too much of baubles, childish vanities; 55 Till shock of death ope wide its palsied ear Too late the wronged Suitor's curse to hear. Wherefore He sends His timely rood of pain,- Divinest strategem our hearts to gain. One Groom there is to Whom our troth is due; A realm of exile for the soul untrue; There's one, — but one eternity and there What love extreme ! what love's extreme despair ! 56 P e ( iWaWf[ all aUpng? as ffif*g ^re ^j[J SAW two roses sweet and fair, In a garden plot they grew. They were blushing there In the summer air, And wet with the gleaming dew. Then which say ye, my choice should be? I stood there puzzled sore. Ah goodness me ! 'Twas a sight to see, How they trembled and blushed the more. I turned me then to a daisy near ; And I spake in accents low : "I prithee dear This mystery clear, — Why blush the roses so?" The artless creature made reply; These words she spake to me : "The reason why They blush and sigh, — Each rose has it's thorn," said she. 57 "I envy not the rose," quoth she. "God made all as they are ; Assuredly 'Tis best to be One's self, — 'tis best by far. "Though Sister Rose, as all may see, Stand fairest of her kind, Yet would I be, Were choosing free, As Providence designed." 5* Sonnet 'MffOULDST thou unbear the counsel of thy breast To kindred soul that will a balm impart? Dost need some solace for thy weary heart? Go sooner thou to Him : 'tis far the best ; Within His gift is lasting peace and rest. Here in the chapel's dusky aisle apart, Kneel thou as child in trust, whoe'er thou art ; And thou shalt know thyself a welcome guest. Full many a weary pilgrim here hath felt — Here where the timid sheen of yonder light Steals through the dark as glowworm in the night — Renewal of his spirit as he knelt In prayerful converse at the feet of Him, Who bringeth joy to man and Seraphim. 59 JL artmra ®o ^arg JJJfTARY, if thou wouldst let me sing My love for thee all hungering, I'd pilfer honey like the bee From all sweet things for song to thee. I'd borrow from the philomel ; The violin should serve me well; And I should pillage earth and sky Till all sweet things with each should vie To laud thee, Mother mild ! Mary, if I could paint thy face, The Masters all should yield me place ; And all composite charms should meet In thy fair visage exquisite. I'd lend thee robe of snowy white; I'd gird thy brow with stars of night; And only He should lovelier be Thine arms caress so tenderly, — Thine own dear little Child. Mary, if I could have my way When splendor robes each dying day, The sun's red cohorts, vanished he, Should circle round thy Child and thee ; 63 And gazing outward to the west, All eyes should catch the vision blest; And mightily one chant would rise To hail thee Queen of Earth and Skies,- Thou peerless, undefiled ! 64 Sttp ^ggumpttmr ;G she was dead. Did they bewail her going that stood nigh And heard those virgin lips make parting sigh, When death bowed low her queenly head, And left that comely house of clay untenanted? A thousand voices answer, "No!" Here there was all of triumph, naught of woe. Unworthy was earth's garden longer to possess Flower such of Godlike loveliness. Who so had fashioned it with matchless art, To His own bower Bore He that charming flower To wear it ever next His burning Heart. So beautifully there she lay, As twilight after crimson death of day ; Or as some placid woodland brook That cradled sleeps in cozy nook, Where not so much the timid rustle of a breeze Perturbs the pendent drowsing trees. Joseph her spouse was dead, Who might have kept dear vigil at her dying bed ; And He was gone — The Blessed Son she had so doted on — 65 Not there to whisper in sweet accents soft and low Endearing name of "Mother," and bestow Caress of love upon the silent dead. Methinks I see that happy, radiant throng, As skyward, on their flashing pinions strong, In meteoric flight, Through many an aureate highway of celestial light, They bear the Virgin garbed in gladness, Disrobed of time's black garniture of sadness Up to the peerless City of Eternal Charms, Where kiss and tender open arms Of Him Who is the Spouse, of kings the King — The Life, the Hope, and everything — Shall make her soul to sing For aye and aye But one sweet burning roundelay; And peace shall sit enthroned as queen at last Within that spotless heart whereof the past Had been an endless pang of hungering. The night is gone. Rejoice! Rejoice! Ring in the dawn! Tears are forever dried: Fled have raging demons their chagrin to hide. O Mary gaze upon thy Son! Behold what glory He has won ! 66 Where erstwhile five unsightly gaping wounds had been — The dastard havoc of a world of sin — Behold the trancing splendors of another sheen Whose undimmed lustre shall forever stay To be the radiance of the new and deathless day That night shall have no power more to take away. O pride and joy of all our race! Thy work is done. The pain, the tear, The doubt, the fear — Mere episodes are they of battles fought and won — Yielding an added zest to present joys begun. With tender, gracious smile, The King doth beckon her the while To seat of bliss. O God ! Was ever moment like to this ? Upon her brow He sets a crown, Our Lady, — ah, so modest gazing down. And when she raises up that head in beauty all serene, Eternal fiat hath proclaimed her Universal Queen. Then loud hosannas shake high heaven's dome Of Cherubim and Seraphim — A splendid soul-enthralling hymn. All of those millions singing Set countless echoes ringing, To bid our Blessed Mother welcome home. 67 Sing ! Ye denizens of heaven, sing ! Alleluia to the King ! Accord ye royal greeting to His daughter fair ! Give forth, glad harps, your dulcet harmonies So wont to please ! From every throbbing string Alleluia to the King ! His praises loud declare ! Ye jasper walls and pearly gates yield echo sweet! That rousing, cheering ave song repeat — Alleluia to the King ! Let all the welkin ring ! Ye saints and angels give her honored place — Akin to us, yet bearing of our blight no trace ! Sing ! Sing ! Sing ! 'Tis more than trivial thing Through all life's pain, its sorrows, and its care A queen to bring That she may share Rejoicing with her king — A mother to the son Divinity alone could paragon. O touch, some winged servitor of heaven, my tongue With coal of burning fire ! My viol attune to strain yet higher ; For wist ye song by Poesy e'er sung 68 When in her wildest flight She mounted up to eagle's height, And with undaunted eye Outbraved the very day-god of the sky ? Wist ye of song or hymn That should essay to limn The joy to ear and eyes, The rhapsodies, The glad surprise Of the new found home — God's Paradise? The Virgin's soul with pleasure fills; Her heart is aye one burst of rapture-thrills To strain of melody so sweet, None might to mortal ears such harmonies repeat ; 'Twould strike earth's symphonies forever dumb, If such concerted notes should hither come. Wise, wise, oh wondrous wise are ye That keep your steadfast gaze upon eternity ! Whenas that others, Weakly sisters, brothers, Toil to seek The dizzy height of honor's mountain peak, Ye carry out in peace of soul your Master's will 'Mid trials mayhap and grinding poverty until Ye hear at length that Master's voice, "Well done!" Your thread of life its course has run. 69 O Spirit wise ! Give us to seek true enterprise In things that shall not pass away, But turn to riches for eternity. 70 ^otfpr (Mint O thou not forget me Sweetest Mother mine, Though a God be cradled In those arms of thine. We, too, are thy children ; Thy dear little Son Made of thee our Mother, — From His Cross 'twas done. Fair as ever dewdrop On some flower's crest, Is the Dear Who nestles On thy Mother's breast. Yet though child like Jesus Ne'er drew breath of morn, Will thy heart not shelter Me, too, — poor forlorn ? 7i Soft and low thy crooning Stills His baby cry : May thy love caressing, Our sad hearts ally. When my lips have spoken Their last faint Amen, Be thou blessed monstrance Holding Jesus then. 72 Pfyaf s in a ^nmt? ar ©an *9o HAT can war do? Enkindle giant fires of hate and wrath, Leave charred and smoking ruin in its path ; Gold-dabbled fields to bloody shambles turn, Where highest glory is to hack and burn ; And when the battle smoke has cleared away, The pink of manhood is the vulture's prey : — This war can do. What can war do? Undo what toiling ages left in fee, — Give bankrupt heirloom to posterity ; Snatch husband from a cherished wife's embrace, And leave at every hearth some vacant place. Do fiendish deeds that only spawn of hell Could aptly joy thereat and say : 'tis well : — This war can do. What can war do? Lay on the lash until amid the dust Our loud peccavis purge the deed unjust ; 75 Scourge us until we prize the worth of peace, And plead to Him we've slighted for release ; Down topple every idol of our pride, Turn heedless millions to the Crucified : — This war can do. 76 JV $Kgtft ttjrouglf ti\t ^Iwckmzz rtft H ! the city's rumble and roar, — Of factory, office, and store! 'Tis buy and sell, Tis shout and yell, With the dong of bell, And crowds pellmell; Until you wish you were heaven knows where,- Out in the fields with God's fresh air. And the poverty, misery, crime, With the filth, the stench, and the grime ! Go to poverty's lair, And you'll find them there, With the larder bare, And the grim despair ! Say ye, that this is a Christian land ? 'Tis a mystery this to understand. Aye, the grasp, the greed, and the sin ; With the scheme more wealth to win ! What a bustle and fight From dawn till night ; 77 While Mammon's might Makes all things right ! So screw and grind to the meanest cent, While widows' tears be your merriment! Thank God for the gleam of — a Light That cheers through the dark of the night ! Sometimes kneel there In trustful prayer ; And wan despair Will turn to air ; For He Who can will bring relief, Who drained to dregs life's cup of grief. 78 p[p, jiluggari*, anb JVfrag! ILT thou abide within on such a day And leave base indolence to cozen thee Of such a treat of sights Elysian? For shame ! For shame ! Go ! get thee clad in haste, While yet in roseate childhood is the day ; And many a stretch of blue doth intervene Apollo and his noontide goal betwixt. Shake off thy torpor then ; and mark it well, How every living thing, — the coyest e'en Of nature's children, maketh holiday. Let us a rambling go, where zephyrs light Do wanton with the wild flowers on the lea ; Where doth the quail's shrill whistle wafted come O'er harvests rich and fair of golden grain; Where honey flies their secrets soft and low Do breathe, each in his clovered bower hid ; Or better come with me to Pictured Rocks; And clamber up its tortuous ascent; And when that thou hast planted firm thy foot Upon the frowning ledge that crowns its brow; And like the eagle from his eyrie thou Dost gaze full many a fearful fathom down ; Then shall a very paradise unfold 79 Its panoramic splendors to thine eye ; And there in wonder whist, shalt thou behold Such scenes as only Araby the blest, Or Tempe's vale might hope to emulate. For many a mile to north and south of thee, There stretches on a never ending chain Of wooded heights, whereon 'twould seem indeed That silver clouds of iv'rine loveliness Did sleep and dream the listless hours away. To east and north of thee in smiling dell, Sweet Prairie sends her smoke wreaths curling high; Whilst down below with many a graceful curve, His bosom strown with isles of living green, The lordly Mississippi slows along. And if thy roving eye but follow him, A vista exquisite shall thrill thy soul, Where fair Wisconsin greets her princely groom. Come then, my friend, and be thou unconstrained By fancied obstacles to bide at home; For swift our shallop is to ply the wave; And ere thou knowest it, yon nether strand That skirts the fairy haunt of Pictured Rocks, Shall give thee smiling hospitality. 80 Pofe pill Jforga&e E stood in silence on the beach and gazed Out westward where the setting sun still blazed. 'Twas Bill the Trapper, man of mystery ; Poor Bill for sure did have a history; But whence he came, or what he used to be, He always guarded this right carefully. A picture made he in that sunset glare, — The breezes dallying with his snowy hair. Just overhead a hawk was poised in air : The telltale waters told its presence there. Bill's gun was by his side, his skiff close by ; His home, a solitary hut, stood nigh ; And from its burnished window panes there came A sunset's legacy of molten flame. He turned and entered through the open door ; And flung his steel traps clanging on the floor. He laid his rifle on a table there; And soon began to polish it with care. He rubbed and polished till the rifle gleamed. The more he polished, so the more he seemed To find relief in furbishing that piece, So long, as though the task would never cease. 8b. He paused, as if to battle with a thought: His breath came quick, his face grew stern and taut. A murderous glare of hate was in his look; And passion stirred his frame until it shook. His enemy had crossed his path that day; 'Twas on the open waters of the bay; But fate was kind, — unrecognized was he, His beard concealing his identity. A brother was the foe, — his brother's self, Who would have murdered him for greed of pelf; Who left him feel for six long years too well, The horrors of an insane prison cell. Good fortune favored him, and he was free : He had escaped and found sweet liberty. His hated brother and his friends, he knew, Had pitched their tents a mile above the slough. His long desired chance had come at last, And Bill would have revenge for all the past. His anger grew ; — some hasty strides he took ; — The while his little habitation shook; When lo ! a picture tumbled from the wall, His mother's picture, — dearest thing of all. The two half portions lay together there, — An angel face incomparably fair. 82 How sweetly did she seem to smile at Bill ; The throbbing heart within him stood stock still. He kissed the broken fragments o'er and o'er, And lay there sobbing, — groaning on the floor. Then childhood memories crowded in amain. He would have shut them out, but strove in vain. His good for nothing life before him rose; And was a murder then to be its close? At length he sat him down and bowed his head. His soul was deeply humbled and he said : "Why should these eyes of mine forever see One thing alone, — my brother's treachery? Within this hut contented might I live, Could I but make this stubborn heart forgive. I've loved as lover seldom loved before : My foes I've hated to the very core. No deed of mine by halves was ever done ; And by the God that ruleth yonder sun, As I have hated, so forgive shall I : My hate shall cease ere yonder sun shall die." From out his doorway then he peered again; And while the sun sank low he said, "Amen!" And just as if to seal his grand desire, That kindling west became a sea of fire : And crimson streamers mounting to the skies, Gave Bill an outward glimpse of Paradise. 83 (j^tttfr |3ra Q$ua /jftNE day as I sat in the gloaming And fancy was let go free, As a bee returning from its roaming, She culled these thoughts for me. Thought I of human ambition, — Daydreams that men entertain : How few can boast of fruition ! They die in the planner's brain. Granted is guerdon never In heaven or here below — Only to honest endeavor Falleth a quid pro quo. Be this on thy soul engraven, Dreamer of dreams inane, No barque for the dreamer's haven Save barque on a painted main. The ant, — how small a creature; Yet never a sluggard he. Canst find a wiser teacher In the school of industry? A laurel wreath to the doer; But crown of shame for the drone. Success bides never a wooer Save patient toil alone. 85 ^uga-^Btfrart This curious bird (the Japanese Grass Lark) has been minutely described in a republished article of the late Laf- cadio Hearn, which appeared in The Phoenix, 1914. ^JjN sunny land of far Japan, A wondrous bird is known to dwell : So slight is he, that eye of man His whereabouts can scarcely tell. But ah ! when Day hath barred his door, And cypress-garbed Night draws near, Did silvern shuttle e'er outpour Of bird such song to mortal ear? The night is hushed, Kusa-Hibari, And slumber's fain To list and tarry. Not garish splendor of the day May hope to win thy dulcet song ; But twinkling star and moonlight's play- To such as these dost thou belong. Wee eremite ! I prithee tell Hast filched thy music from the skies, 86 Where heaven's port ope'd wide a spell For soul to enter Paradise? Howbeit sing, Kusa-Hibari, When peeps the dawn, Night may not tarry. I feel me jealous of thy lay, And envy me thy soul of song: Thou warblest love I ne'er can say, Though my poor heart beat full as strong. Yet He Who in such wondrous wise Allied thy soul to minstrelsy, Shall know to mate my yearning cries To sweeter spirit melody. Ah then in sooth, Kusa-Hibari, 'Mid song like thine I'll ever tarry. 87 ;$g Jitter Raters Pnafratlmg ©ears <&HE was not kind to him, No, was not kind to him. Day in, day out, they'd been so much together In sunny hours, in gloom of stormy weather, She knew not her own heart, and so She gave no sign when he did go. He came not home again, Alas, not home again. They brought her news how in the battle fray He fought like hero till his dying day. She had not known her heart, and oh ! What unavailing tears will flow ! Why must we learn, too late, Our hearts have loved? Too late? And just because two souls in varied weather In love's society are much together, Shall death alone make either know Too late they loved each other so? 9i ;Eut ®xxtt ^UT once ! Wait not till life is done ! ^ With biting smart Shall bleed thy heart, If thou first tell From His averted downcast look, Thy doom in yonder sealed book. In sooth thy hell Of frenzied anguish hath begun. But once ! Then dawns eternity. Thy God draws near ! Art prey to fear? Plead thou His grace; No contrite soul comes here too late. Make haste, — bow low and supplicate; There's yet a place Where Mercy's Heart will shelter thee. But once ! Oh then supernal prize ! Death none may stay Nor bribe away. Wouldst seek to hide 92 The Dead-Sea apples thou hast sown? These shall confront thee as thine own; And must abide A verdict ever just and wise. But once, and since 'tis even so, Why seek to flee What needs must be? Make death thy friend ! If thou placate him all thy days By righteous living in thy ways, Death shall portend What fate thou yearnest here to know. 93 Pome Q|2EHOLD a beggar come to thee! ^ In vain the pittance coin I've sought From busy throng that heeded not; But eyed askance my unromance ; Lest closer ken of such mischance But shock life's calm serenity. Wilt Thou receive e'en such as I? O God ! The veriest shred to me Of tenderness shall welcome be. Aweary I the kick, the cuff, The spurning door, the cold rebuff, The night wind's weird and wailing sigh. A smile of pity dims His eye; Outstretched His hand with loving art That deigns me housage in His heart. "Come !" Heard I ne'er so sweet a call ; Mine could I deem a happy fall, To shelter find thus wondrously. 94 ^t flttfou ffirusifol •/JTHOU hast said thou art aweary Of the toils that crush thy heart ; Thou art old and days are dreary ; Thou wouldst fain this life depart. Shall there be no brighter morrow Come to smile upon thy grief? Comes there no surcease of sorrow For thy harassed soul's relief? Friend of mine, there is a power Which can bid thy pain to cease : Kiss thy blessed cross, 'twill dower Thy sore heart with heaven's peace. Aye, not gem nor golden treasure Providence would ask of thee; See thou yield to God's good pleasure; Bow thy head to His decree. 95 Servest thou some master cruel? One who knoweth not thy clay? Love's and wisdom's guidance dual, — These direct thee on thy way. Then up and on, nor falter ever! Be His ordinance thy will. Hence caitiff fear ! Begone forever ! Hope and trust and struggle still. As the honey fry extracteth Dainty stores from each fair flower, Be whate'er thy God exacteth Thy dear quest each bleeding hour! 96 ^ultum m Ifetrfar 3% tErtttst ^hm ^^OT from the silken purse, but from the heart, ~ The truest alms proceed; The coin that succors half the beggar's smart Leaves other half to bleed. Some stray "God bless you," thou didst here repeat May bring thee highest pay, When thou shalt stand beside the Judgment Seat, Upon the Judgment Day. 99 Jbatfy ffifHE teeming, drooping, golden ear Invites the gleaner's knife; And for the harvest of the year, Ope's wide the bin of life. 100 ^xtmral ^ofe 0ftUT of a boundless deep come I to be , And back must plunge me in this yawning sea. Such pearl of price yon deep shall yield to me, As shall make glad my heart eternally. Wqz ©tame (f&AY laughter rang out on the night air From the deck of that mighty ship, As over the water she glided, In the flush of her maiden trip. But out of the sable shadows A monster iceberg steals. Crash ! and the pride of the ocean, — A helpless wreck she reels. Aye, a lifetime passed in those moments, Which brought true men to the fore, Who went to their deaths unrepining, — Heroes through to the core. Others shall fade from remembrance Who trod the ways of renown; But these shall the ages emblazen, And carry them centuries down. 102 At home many hearts beat gladly; Loved ones would soon be near ; And the bliss of a speedy reunion Would banish the starting tear. But deep in those icy waters That cargo of heroes sank down ; And the gurgling tide of the ocean Devoured them every one. Bleak, bleak are the hearths of thousands, Bewailing their dead this day ; Only the solace of heaven Can lessen their dread dismay. O Pilot of destiny lead us Through treacherous ways that be ; Till safe o'er life's wildering waters We ride into harbor with Thee ! 103 ^Rtttfy mxb Parnlb ^Rutfy anfr 3Carolfr Prologue ^UT forth, my little word, Godspeed to thee ™ O'er wold and fallow, over land and sea, With nimble wing as does the carrier fly, Winnowing the silken highways of the sky. Thou pipest olden ballad unto men, — A strain neglected they ought hear again. Belike such hearing of a thing neglect Restore it whilom place of high respect. Wedding Bells XOW fair is the day ^* And bright the sky; And sweet is the way Yon bells would try To tell of the nuptials soon to be Glad as of Cana in Galilee. 107 Hist ! Hist ! From his bough Lilts robin gay. 'Tis a wager now Jack Robin's lay Tattles how sweethearts two will be Knit soon into blessed unity. Sing ! Sing all earth ! Has come love's Spring. Shall the soul of mirth Have not her fling? And the organ's loud diapason swells To the festal note of the pealing bells. And the altar's a dream In charm it discloses, Where taper-gems gleam 'Mid lilies and roses : Lilies for purity, roses for love, Stray chords from an angel harp above. 108 Attending Angels and Marriage Blessing Voice of Attending Angels 'EOW with buckler of faith they have hemmed them *-' round: In the path of this couple shall grace abound, To build them strong, to build them true; And peace shall fall on their lives as dew. The Words of the Blessing The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob be with you forever ! Voice of Attending Angels They fear no frown of a scorning crowd ; And the praise of their lives speaks trumpet loud : His blessings will shine on their days as the sun, Till the silver threads of their lives be spun. The Words of the Blessing May he fulfill his blessing in you, that you may see your children's children to the third and fourth generation. Amen. 109 Ebb and Flow '/JTHE time tides roll. A year has quickly fled. Pray deem it no intrusion should we part The curtains of domestic privacy To ascertain how fares it with the twain, Erstwhile the cynosure of envious eyes. Has seen home at its best? Where peace might see Her own sweet mirrored self, and smitten be Of her own loveliness? Such homes there be; And such a home was theirs : begun in faith, In wealth of trust surpassing rich, and sealed By love of more than tinsel beauty's sham, So prone to pale the worthier gifts beneath. Hast seen home at its best? Harsh word found there No lodgment on the lip ; where husband scorned To hector wife ; where purity dared not Besmirch her charming self by word or deed That eyne of Heaven might not countenance. In such a home did Ruth and Harold dwell. Yet even their short span of wedded life Ran not so calm and smoothly on, but that From time to time some bludgeonings of trial no Or shift of cruel circumstance gave them Morsel of Christ's sorrow for their food ; Whereat they proved their steadfastness to Him And said, "Thy will be done ! Thy will be done !" Small wonder then that their example shone A goodly force to neighbors old and young : Calling to mind how worth their while it was To draw like draughts of sacramental grace From channels they had erstwhile oft misprized. If so be thou hast ever taen thy stance In valley where commanding heights arose In lordly grandeur left and right of thee, Just when his westering beam the dying sun 'Gan focus on some solitary cliff To Tabor it with splendors manifold, What then? Did not the dying day-god seem To fix it heir beloved of all he had Of opal gems and jewels luminous? Aye ! Till it stood transfigured, Mount of God ; And eye of thee was sore abashed ; nor would, Nor durst not longer rashly brazen it. And so may grace of God transfigure e'en The meanest, shabbiest, lowliest thing of earth. Canticle of Joy Harold 'TTTHOU hast been over good to me; This helpmate Thou hast given Brims full my life with happy days That liken earth to heaven. All mortals owe their debt to Thee, Yet mine exceeds all measure: And this, my queenly bride, hold J My chiefest earthly treasure. Men dote on outward charms they see In some enchanting creature; My Ruth's endearing ways I prize Far more than form or feature. If press of business cause me fret And I am prone to sadness, Her smile turns bitter into sweet, Turns sorrow into gladness. And if from out of tender skies Should come this added blessing Of baby face and arms that plead To other arms caressing, The holiest aim that wife can have Will be her fondest craving To rear her little one for Thee, And help Thee in its saving. And since Thou art so good to me, Spare her whom Thou hast given; Then happier still my soul shall be, Since I'll be closer heaven. And should I live to tottering age Through storm and sunshine weather, May she stay on, my golden heart, While we grow gray togethei. Out of a Full Heart Ruth 1\ FAIN would sing a hymn to Thee, O God of peerless majesty! Faith soars above the fleshly sense To blazon Thy munificence; For like an island in a sea, So has Thy love encompassed me. 113 Make Thou my love as ocean be, With Thee sole island in that sea ! Still fresh and green the memory is When wedding chime told out the bliss That sealed us man and wife for aye : I thank Thee, God, for that one day. I thank Thee now as I did then For him, my Bayard, prince of men. But soul of me harps louder yet Blest burthen of a mother's debt. Let echo call to echo sweet Till earth resound and skies repeat, — Repeat my glad Magnificat, So Mary hear and joy thereat, As calling back old, new delight, With the Lamb in her blessed arms that night. 114 Praise to Thy Name, Who givest me To grasp life's sacred mystery, Divining how my tiny flower Much more than the whirlwind tongues Thy power; And how Thou'st hid in this frail guise A soul whose home is in the skies. Ursula at the Font The Angel '/JTHEY do speak you sweet and fair, Tiny Ursula ! For they've marked your dimples there, And the snowy garb you wear, Tiny Ursula! What if they could see you now, Radiant Ursula ! Cleansing stream upon your brow, Spouse of Heaven through your vow? Radiant Ursula ! 115 If they saw as angels see,- Precious Ursula! All the loveliness of thee, Whiter than the lilies be, Precious Ursula ! — Beauty here should flee their sight, Yes, dear Ursula! — As the silver stars of night Flee the day-god's dawning light, — Yes, my Ursula ! Not if God had given to me, — Hear it, Ursula ! Sceptre over land and sea, All the world for custody, — Hear'st it, Ursula? — Were it half so sweet a thing, My own Ursula ! — As to dight thee, daughterling, For the nuptials of thy King. Truly, Ursula ! 116 On Papa's Knee 0TOME huddle up closer, little one; While the sandman comes for you ; And we'll rock away till your tiny sail Is afloat on a sea of blue. And the stars will blink, the fireflies dance, And the old moon split his sides; For it's up and away where the dolphins play Over the rippling tides. So trim your sails in the good ship Nod ; Soon jolly good times there'll be; When we enter the Ocean of Dreams ere long Till the sun comes out of the sea. And mama will stand on the silvery beach Till her baby's ship heaves to; And a kiss will welcome the rover back To the Harbor of Love anew. 117 At Home With Ursula six years of age, Harry four, and Maud two. ^SOFTLY the night wind whispers, Gently down from the skies Silken shades are a falling Like lashes on wearied eyes. Heaven hangs out its first lantern; Now there's a gleam in yon cot ; Ere long a thousand lamps glimmer, Each one a tiny red dot. Harold make haste from thy business, Fond hearts are waiting for thee, There where the love lights glitter, Sweetest of stars that be. There is thy Ruth in the doorway ; Ursula's there on the stoop ; Hard by is gentle old grannie, — Love's little galaxy group. 118 Oh ! 'twas a right royal supper ! Could there be doubt of that ? "Clear away all of the tea things !' Then for an old time chat. Here there's a ring of the doorbell ; Mama says, "Who can it be?" In walks the sainted old pastor, Who is more welcome than he? Straightway they cluster around him, Ursula, Harry, and Maud, Reverence and love on their features, Such is the kingdom of God. Glory of white hairs upon him, Guest of high honor is he, Smiling down on the children Grouped on the floor at his knee. This is the rich amendment, Joy for the pangs he must know, Where evil unsightly doth compass Haunt where his feet must go. ug Swift is the flight of the evening. Would he might longer stay ! All of them kneel for his blessing, Homeward he turns his way. Soon Master Harry is yawning ; Ursula's nodding her head. "Had we not better be parting?' "Yes, it is time for bed." 120 Mother's Garden Tiny Alice ^TON cradle is a garden fair: ^ A tiny flower peepeth there ; And mother's breath is the breeze that blows ; And mother's eyes is the sun that glows All through the summer air. And softly floats o'er the cradle wall Lullaby when the nightshades fall/ And the dews that moisten from above, Are tear joys fresh from a mother's love — Boon to that flower small. Then slumber on in thy cozy dell ; For the mother gardener minds thee well ; And the honey fly she'll be that sips Nectared sweets from thy baby lips Sweeter no tongue can tell. The Blow Ursula dies at fourteen years of age. The Angel Guardian's Song of Triumph. tfTTHE last sigh And life is done ; And lo ! we greet each other, thou and I, When the prize is won. Too tantalizing seemed the years and slow Till thou shouldst see thine angel guide Unseen of thee till now yet ever at thy side ; And thence be brought to know How from thy first faint breath His love for thee was stronger e'en than death. But here upon this nether shore At last, — O sweet at last, — With fear of wreck and ruin past, And danger ne'er to harry more, He meets thee face to face In friendship's strong embrace, — Here where all love is free to soar To heights that well had daunted it before. Come, Ursula, and join along! Join me in ecstasy of song! When some great battle's won And swords be sheathed when it is done, And the battle smoke has cleared away Where foe gripped foe in deadly fray, Does not the victor raise his voice, Does he not shout for gladness and rejoice? So shall it be with me : So shall it be with thee; For ours is nobler, higher, truer victory, That shall remain, — that shall remain, When time's gone back to its abyss again. Therefore my cup of bliss is full. O God ! Thy bounty's wonderful ! Joy! Joy! Joy! Alike, my well beloved, for thee, Alike for happy, happy me. Joy! Joy! Joy! That knows not surcease nor alloy. But come, my precious charge ! Haste we away ! All heaven stands in expectation To give us splendid jubilation; Therefore we may not longer stay. Grieve not for those on earth Whom thou so lovest and who gave thee birth ! The blessed household angels there Shall have good care Of those so tenderly beloved of thee, And fill their hearts with God's serenity. 123 To a Kindly Sympathizer ,( QTIS yet too soon, good sir, for thee to seek By proffered sympathy ill-timed to halt This torrent of parental grief. These two Leave thou with God : 'twere best. Show but thy face ! Nor speak, save sparingly at best ! Poor words ! So maladroit ! Seem they not vulgar here In awful presence of so vast a woe? Leave them with God : 'twere better so. Speak here By kindly pressure of thy hand, or by Thine eye's mute eloquence ! When heaven sends An overplus of anguish like to this, 'Twill have its way. Wouldst vainly seek to stay The surcharged udders of a brooding sky ? E'en nature's storm must spend itself ere calm Resume her sunshine sway. Better the eye Suffuse in tears, than that pale, haggard grief, Unblest by largess of relieving tear, Unto the soul's grim fortalice retire To bar the door, and sullen, woo despair. Come where she lies in snowy raiment garbed, As when her first great sacramental joy Made her glad fiancee of Christ the King. Shrink not, though death be here ; for death is kind To innocence ; and all but leaves intact 124 That tenement of clay where angel soul Did once abide. How like to counterfeit Of slumber this her calm repose in death, With faint suggestion of her wonted smile On lips here sealed in silence evermore. Kneel ! Breathe thou a prayer, and say farewell ! Resignation THY do they bow their heads in calm submission? Came there some glimpse of heaven's distant vision ? No, angels hover near where she lies sleeping, And there is peace where they are vigil keeping. The atmosphere is laden not with sorrow, But with such hope as sees a brighter morrow. "Thy will be done !" — this is their heart's oblation, And sorrow dries her tears in resignation. 125 Silver Lining "^9 EATH came to bring ^ Them grief in lieu of gladness ; But grief took wing To leave them joy for sadness Their Jubilee *-*- r .