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BEVERLY, NEW JERSEY, II OMEGA PUBLISHING CO. fi 1887. TS M I ^. Entered according to act of Congress in the year 1887, by CLARENCE L. HAZZARD, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, W^iShiugton. Press-work hy Ketterlinus, Philadelphia. AFTER SUNSET. (an APOLOCiY.) QiNCE it was more commendable To sing than weep ; I struck my untuned lyre in my youth, And raised my voice, while all the world Was wrapped in sleep, And simply sang of beauty, love and truth Complaining not, though destiny Mad made me pay, The debt I ne'er contracted. Was it just? I whiled the sunny day within The mart away; And after sunset sang, because I must. DOUBTING. DOUBTING. Oft have I wondered if there's good in man ; And if there's any hope beyond this Hfe, Or will this mighty wandering caravan, Pass into a desert of far bitter strife ? And has the Father bountiful on high, Forgot his early promise to the race ; That for bur intercession we can fly To one atoning and one perfect grace? 'Tis often that these clouds of dark despair, Hang heavy o'er my weary mind and soul; While vice about us, and its fearful snare, Is mighty, and the good have no control. While virtue triumphs only in defeat, And hard earned honor grovels in the dust, Kind acts become the victims of deceit, And minds are narrowed by a golden lust. Yet through it all, a gleam of solace shines, That drives my doubting fears and thoughts away. For much must be suffered in these confines. To gain the glory of the perfect day. APHORISMS — ESTI MATE. APHORISMS. When you bless the poor make it your intent ; To have your blessings in a basket sent. The eye that sheds a forgiving tear, Becomes the outlet of a heart sincere. Contentment is doomed to have an enemy; If not ambition ; then prosperity. There is no difference in the meanings of the word vice; They both tightly hold the objects they get within their grasp. ESTIMATE. We the monuments of a pleasure spent, Ambitious, full of discontent; While away our three score years and ten, Vainly trying to be worse or better men. CHANSONETTE. — RETROSPECTION. CHANSONETTE. A LITTLE maiden once I knew, Her sparkling eyes were like the dew, That's found upon the flowers gay, When dawn presents another day. This little maiden that I knew, With bright and winning eyes looked through Your heart as though it was but glass. And saw your feelings come and pass. RETROSPECTION. There's a mine of retrospection in those eyes, Glistening with the brilliant light of Paradise, Halting Father Time in his eternal flight, And to judgment bringing my few thoughts to night: A walk in the wood ; an eve in the festive dance ; A ring; a letter; a brilliant star; A moonlight walk by the silvery sea, and the manse Where the rustic bench, and chair still are. KING MIDAS. KING MIDAS. There is a story handed down, How one bold Midas sought reward Of Bacchus, though he wore a crown, And all the people owned him lord ; To change all things he touched to gold ; Which Bacchus granted being kind. King Midas then a banquet gave And Royalty in honor dined. But when King Midas took the food, From off the treasured royal tray ; A yellow faintness it assumed, Like fleecy clouds at close of day. The King looked vexed and angry grew ; For everything he tried to eat: Turned brightest gold, and rolling fell In mockery at his kingly feet. In time the people grew alarmed, And fleeing left him all alone. And gold became so plentiful T'was worth no more than common stone; And Midas in his royal house, With every comfort one would need ; From sheer starvation met his death, A fitting tribute for his greed. THE LIGHT BURNS DIM IN THE HALL. THE LIGHT BURNS DIM IN THE HALL. Without the cold winds are blowing, The leaves are beginning to fall, The coals in the grate are glowing, And the light burns dim in the hall. The children are all out playing, Children who are pretty and small. Quite long they seem to be staying ; For the light burns dim in the hall. List to those little fists rapping ! On the door-step I hear them all ; The cause of all this hard tapping Is, the light burns dim in the hall. And to the door I go flying, And open it wide to the wall; And they stand on the step crying, For the light burns dim in the hall. For their kind mother they're sighing, One that was dear to them all ; Who bright kept the light ere dying, That now dimly burns in the hall. A QUERY. A QUERY. If I had been more than human, Caught a ghmpse of Heaven's glow; Seen the many spectre beauties, Heard the music sad and low. Sailed with scented strong winds blowing, O'er the loved yEgean sea; Listened to the gentle zephyrs, With my thoughts and fancy free. Wandered to the Isle of Delos, Where Apollo's music trilled; When the birds took up the echo. And the world with music filled. Would I then have found contentment, If I'd lived this pleasant dream? Since it is not man's attainment, In this mighty age of steam. THE SUICIDE - A FLOWER. THE SUICIDE. His patience long has been tried ; Who finds relief in suicide. No knowledge of that unknown land, And takes the chances in his hand ! And who's to blame ? The cold, hard world, For whom, perhaps, he vainly toiled, And finding no fraternity, Preferred to it eternity. A FLOWER. O Flower as fair and sweet as the one, Who plucked it while yet, it was gay in its bloom, Is banished for time, from its father the sun; To loan its sweet freshness to me in my gloom, But time in its swiftness, has taken away. The color and perfume that once it posessed; 'Though the fair one who plucked it, is living to day, A life that is holy ; a life that is blessed. CITY OF HOMES, WONDROUS CITY. CITY OF HOMES, WONDROUS CITY, I TREAD thy long and well-filled streets, Great residences greet my eye ; What thouofhts are thougfht, what scenes enacted Within these long lines of brick and stone, O, city of Commerce ! O city immense ! Great tall trees like sentinels stand. Within thy busiest limits, Watching o'er the disfigured tomb Of him, who with the lightnings played, O, city of greatness! O, honored city! Ceasing never with thy loud din, Nor resting from thy weary toil ; The sound of the bell at midnight Is welcomed as it is at noon, O, bustling city! O, city of din! Great vessels of all lands approach thee, And closely draw nigh to thee, Honor thee for thy products, And value give for what they take, O, maratime city! O, advancing city! WOODS IN AUTUMN. City with name eternal ; City bright in the past ; City of the future ; City of homes. WOODS IN AUTUMN. A heavy sky hangs overhead, A river's running by, A thicket wild surrounds the place ; No house, nor home seems nisfh. The ground is strewn with autumn leaves. And reed birds fill the air; Gay poison vines and flowers wild Are growing everywhere. The cat-bird's gloomy call is heard, And lends a dismal sound To these dull melancholy woods Where loneliness is found. And o'er one comes a feeling sad, A feeling that's half fear; Like that o'ercame the men of old, When some great God was near. BE READY. — PRESCRIPTION. O let me tread the great highway, Where many faces meet, F'or there is too much soHtude In this syh^an retreat. BE READY. High about and built around you, Are the gates "Prosperity," And the latch string hangs before you, Which is "Opportunity," When the time comes tightly grasp it ; Quickly pull it with your might; Enter therein, and rush forward With your banner "Truth and Right." PRESCRIPTION. Cheer up dull heart, cheer up I pray, With joy be ever kin. Unto your soul, the sages say: "T'will be a medicine." AT BUNKER ITTIJ., — T.OVE AND IJFE. AT BUNKER HILL. Upon this hill of sacred earth, The Union of the States was born ; And God exulted in the birdi And hallowed a great nation's dawn. The blood (shed in that battle won, Upon that grand eventful day) Has cours(;d its way through son to son, In honor of so brave a fray. And like the rod of Aaron old; Has blossomcnl in majestic grace. Until a nation brave and bold, Now stands upon its holy base. LOVb: AND LIFE. Those blessed things called love and life Should be two things together, And both should be as man and wife; Dependent on each other. DESIRE. -A WISH. DESIRE. O, THAT a sign might appear 'Cross the Heavens bright and clear: That would unto mankind prove; Christ, our Saviour, King of love. Faith is measured by the eye. Selfishness: the human cry; Hearts are bound with cords of pride. Man is wed, and Death's his bride; Since we've drifted in this state, O, would God ere its too late; Save us as He did of old, Place us in His loving fold. A WISH. O, THAT I could from the mart of trade be free, To enjoy a life sublime and rustic. Pent in by hedge and gigantic forest tree. Where no sound of commercial strife would wake Me from my sweet dream and pleasant reverie. BLAME ME NOT. — THE NAMING OF BEVERLY. BLAME ME NOT. Blame me not; t'was accidental, Wandered I upon the scene; Like fair Actseon the hunter, And beheld the rural queen. Conscience would have dogged my senses, Had not beauty charmed my eye, Chased me through the soul's Gargaphia, Left me in the wood to die. THE NAMING OF BEVERLY. When from far Rome first came the Monks, To teach barbaric England love ; They found the country overrun With beavers in both swamp and grove. With labor hard the good Monks spread. The power of the Holy See; And called the place, where stood their church The Holy Town of Beaverly. FRAGMENTS. FRAGMENTS. O SWEET contentment rest in me, Fair secret of this life ; And I will ever happy be, Enjoying so called strife. The gale that blows my ship down. The poor upbound sailor bothers; Circumstances good for one, Are not good at all for others. Competition is the prime mover of the world, And makes love and business boom ; Monopoly may comfort bring a favored few, But over others casts a Moom. Atl is poetry, the world's one eternal rhyme, The waves and winds dance and sigh, In most pleasing time; Age past keeps music with the future that's unknown. Souls who are in harmony, Hear the mighty tone. THE BROKEN VOW. THE BROKEN VOW. The vow is broken and I flee ; The cross upheld, is not torn down, God never meant that man should wear, A single jewel in his crown. So mused the priest with honest heart, Until he felt his conscience clear. And then he burst the cords that held Him from the one he thought most dear. And fleeing to her open arms, Upon her breast he told his love ; With conscience clear and heart that was Still loyal to his God above. The maiden mused. With tearful eye She gazed into his honest face, And wondered if the crime too great For pardon, from redeeming grace. THE BROKEN VOW. In having- him she robbed her God, Of a devotee to the cross ; And thought that love was not enough, To sacrifice for such a loss. But love is master of the will, And leads us where we dare not go ; It is the morning sun of life, That rises in us all aglow. Then placing her soft hand in his, She spoke her mind, and bade that he In having her, would not give up His labor for the Trinity. The priest stood silent for a time, Then with his face aglow with love ; He took her in his arms and swore. Allegiance to his God above. And told her how on distant shores, There lived a race who never heard The promise given to mankind, Nor knew a precept of His word. THE BROKEN VOW. And how they could together go, As one in spirit and in heart ; \ To work and labor for the cause, And never from each other part, Then going to the holy place, Where contrite hearts meet to repent ; They kneeled awhile in silent prayer. But did not take the Sacrament. And here he told her that he had, Resigned his charge and Pastorate ; Rut clung to God with steadfast heart, And put more trust in Him, than fate. The people when they heard the news, Said unkind words about the two, And wished them everything, but joy, O'erlooking all the good they knew. The widow (who the winter through, The young priest helped and freely gave His money) clenched her weak spare fist, And with the others cried out "knave," THE BROKEN VOW. The young priest as he loved his God, Tried hard to hve by His great plan ; But after all found he posessed, The simplier nature of a man. And going to the maiden sad, He claimed her as his fair young bride And took her nervous hand in his. And led her from the land with pride. In after years there rose a man. Whom people near and far esteemed ; And ev'ry movement that he made, With God's true love and mercy gleamed. And taking up the cross of Christ, He preached His love and holy word ; Converting all the people who His many earnest pleadings heard. And when he died, the people asked, "Who was this man, whom late we had? A voice replied "A priest whose vow, Was broken for a maiden sad." A CRITICISM. — () YON STAR. A CRITICISM. He is not brave, if on his face, The lines of fierceness we can trace Excitingly he is within, Led on by the loud battle's din. But he whose face is pale with fright. And boldly goes into the fight; Is brave indeed, for he's aware, That either life or death is there.. O YON STAR. See yon star that brighly shines, High, above these Southern pines. Moving northward in its course, Homeward a sad thought inclines, O yon star move swiftly on. Until from my sight you're borne; For this lady has my heart. Having it my freedom's gone, A MEMORY, -SONG. A MEMORY. At the setting of the sun, Down from distant Burhnofton Comes the Vesper chime, 'Cross the verdant meadows fair. Borne upon the autumn air, Musical, subHme. In the Vesper chime so clear. In my fancy still I hear. Songs of sweetest praise; Bringing back to me a smile, Passed across the narrow aisle, Ev'ry seven days. SONG. The night has come and the day, Like a bird has flown away; And the stars are shining bright. Making grand the face of night. Soon the moon with silver face, Will lend unto th' scene her orrace ; Bathe the world in mellow glow, Rolling noislessly below. BEVERLY, SWEET BEVERLY. BEVERLY, SWEET BEVERLY. How sweet to roam In summer time ; When honey-suckle fast entwine The house, the fence, the maple trees, That waft unto the gentle breeze ; In Beverly ; sweet Beverly, M)' heart for thee sighs heavily. Unto the far and distant sea ; Which has no pleasantness for me ; How sweet to watch the river flow By the banks where the daisies grow ; In Beverly; sweet Beverly, Thy river is the pride of thee. When the summer sun sinks to rest ; Makes golden like, the distant west, I watch the first star shining bright, Welcoming on the coming night ; O'er Beverly; sweet Beverly, Pleasant spot e'r dear to me. A VISION. Peeping from a fleecy cloud, I see the moon, pale and proud ; Sweetly, gently gazing down ; Upon the quiet little town: Of Beverly ; sweet Beverly, How sweet she smiles on thee, 'Tis worthy of a poet's rhyme ; Who sings of that which is sublime And the painter, in love with art ; Will find a scene to please his heart : In Beverly; sweet Beverly, Surely I'm in love with thee. A VISION. By my bed a figure stood and said : "Have you in all the books you've read, Found a character as true and fine. As Christ the Saviour, the Divine?" A moments pause, I answered "nay," The vision faded then away. IN AN ALBUM.-TIIE WORLD S AWAKE. IN AN ALBUM. May your life be one of gladness; Full of mirth and full of song; Full of joy and free from sadness; Ever blessed, sweet and long. THE WORLD'S AWAKE. Already the bright streaks of dawn, Stretch far across the grayish sky. Into the valley dark beyond, And make the night's dark shadows Hy, A lurid tinge the east assumes ; The sun bursts forth with golden beams, The world's awake ; I must move on, To labor and give up my dreams. THE END. C ■ < c< ^■«^ .-^ cc <£: cc . «K -c:<; «Cc>^|^'c «7. >-^^-, ^^Ss^ ^;- ccc: <^CcCjC^ C^ .^_^^, C< _*tc<::_: -^-c. "^ ''' ',-'.''- V' ■ ' ■ 1*!; ••;»■• "V-'v-. .V-;- ■"^l