Changing Voices Arid Other Poems by R. D. BRODIE Class ^/^S^'-KIGHT DEPOSIT. CHANGING VOICES AND OTHER POEMS R. D. BRODIE BOSTON RICHARD G. BADGER THE GORHAM PRESS 1909 Copyright 1909 by R. D. Brodie All Rights Reserved The Gorham press, Boston, U. S. a. ©Ci.425l86- CONTENTS Page Changing Voices 7 A Cancelled Bereavement 8 Hear tease 9 Abiding Light 11 A Hand 13 Lines written on Receipt of an Invitation to Commencement Exercises 15 At Close of Day 17 A Little Girl 18 Sleep 19 fVhat Will My Captain Say? 21 To a Worn Prayer Book 22 Memorial Day 24 A Modern Psalm 27 Via Solitaria 29 Evening Retrospect 31 Sic Transit 32 The Grave of Hope 33 A IV hole-Hearted Gift 40 Vincit Qui Se Vincit 44 Abigail 51 3 CONTENTS Page Vashti 53 Esther 55 JVork-Time Song 57 Campaign Song 60 Sugar Time 62 Graduation Song 63 CHANGING VOICES CHANGING VOICES So many voices fill the earth around No human ear can gather all the tunes But some one voice predominant is heard As when the swelling notes of some sweet bird O'er-whelm all nature's quieter timid runes, And make that spot for us enchanted ground, That 'neath their spell we hear that voice alone And silent others seem till that is gone. And yet another day for us that voice May rise and swell unnoted on the breeze, Another sound with power constrains the ear, And hearing it we it alone can hear, Though it be sad and have no charm to please But jars us with its discord and its noise. A CANCELLED BEREAVEMENT Outside the mourners raised their hideous wail; She only wept; and from her widow's veil There came in sorrow's deepest, saddest tone, 'Mid choking sobs, the mother's hopeless moan : — My son, my only son. She followed when they bore him from her side To lay her dead with others who had died. So sad ! so full her bitterness of fears ! Her future — O, how desolate its years, Alone, without her son ! "Weep not." What means that loving word she hears. That seeks with tenderness to dry her tears? "Thy son comes back in strength to be thy stay; The Love of God shall break death's cords to-day; I give thee here thy son." HEARTEASE Through all the years that memory holds our hearts have known the craving That calls with hunger keen and strong for human nature's saving — The love that gives itself to love and fills our being truly. And, though impassioned, always calm, nor yet displayed unduly. The loves of earth are partial all and often evanescent; ihey fail to satisfy the heart with yearning ever present. They smile to-day, to-morrow frown; in scorn or thoughtless folly They wound a friend with cut so deep he ne'er recovers wholly. We touch at certain points and part, a wall seems to divide us; A gentle warmth is in the touch, the parting seems to chide us: That wall is seldom broken down as seldom clambered over; And so "acquaintance" still we say, when love would have said "lover." But, O Thou Lov^e, all lov-es above, that yearning love desireth. Thou comfort of each hungry soul that Thee alone requireth. Give us to know the love Thou hast for us if we but take it; Teach us to bring our thirst to Thee and in thy fullness slake it. So shall our lives be free from lack, supplied from Thine o'er-flowing, No evanescence greet us there, nor moods that pass our knowing, But plentiful to meet each need, each pain and woe to banish The ocean of Thy love gives rest and all our worries vanish. ABIDING LIGHT Clouds and storm are all around us, Light of day is dim and weak; Hope is sinking, dread approaches; Anxious are the thoughts we speak. Little feet are needing cover. Little bodies must be fed; How, if long the storm continues. Shall we find the children's bread? All the gathering clouds of nature, All the darkness of our life. Fill us with their sad misgivings, — Must we perish in the strife? Perish with our work unfinished. Cherished hopes like grain cut down? Nature's powers, our strength opposing. Thwart us with their constant frown. How the dismal thought of failure Bleeds the heart that bravely strives For the welfare of its loved ones, The upbuilding of their lives! Ah ! Were there but cloud and sorrow Faint might grow the stoutest heart; In its burdened hour of darkness Seeing its fond hopes depart. 1 1 But it Is not always darkness Though the clouds shut out the light; Nor will sorrow hold its triumph Through a woeful life of night. Over nature's clouds and changes, Over our disturbing fears, Is the God who rules the ages Sympathizing in our tears. Light and life are his forever. And He cares for you and me ; Nought shall fail of His good purpose. Though His light we cannot see. Beyond the cloud where vision ends Still His light its beams doth shed; And though doubt doth overlook them Fall His blessings on our head. Other trials have passed over, And the clouds have given place To the hours of sun and brightness, And the smiling of His face. Could we but dislodge our doubting, And believe in Perfect Love, We should never know dejection. Trusting in our God above. 12 A HAND Perhaps a tiny dimpling thing, Temptation great to willing lips — A thing on which to feast the eyes From chubby wrist to finger tips. A thing that woos our tender thoughts, A mystery of suggestiveness — A something that we fain would take And hold in constant sweet caress. Perhaps a hand from which have fled The dimples of its infant days, And yet a plump and coaxing hand That wins its hold in many ways. Its daring touch is full of power, It rules by right of loving will; When its deft fingers weave our locks We bear for the ecstatic thrill. Perhaps a hand from mischief's years. When balls are thrown and hooks are set- A nimble hand and yet a strong. Whose color may be white or jet. A hand we see with thankfulness (When sleep its eagerness restrains) Is still a hand, and in its place, And free from ought but trivial pains. Perhaps a hand slender and fair, A dream of perfect moving grace — A charm that in its mission bears A mark we never would efface. 13 A hand, held by another hand, Sweet captive which is captor too; Yielding itself to golden band That marks the unity of two. Perhaps a mother's hand that holds A sickly babe upon her knee, Picture of loving tenderness Greater than which we may not see. So gentle and so welcome falls The soothing of a loving heart. That suff'ring Bees before its touch And sickness hastens to depart. Perhaps a hand grown old and gaunt, From which the power of work has gone, Woeful and sad in its distress It seems so much apart, alone. And yet, clasped in another hand That with it four-score years has been It marks the motion of a heart Upraised to God, the great Unseen. 14 LINES WRITTEN ON RECEIPT OF AN INVITATION TO COM- MENCEMENT EXERCISES I got the commencement programme; its ap- pearance is surely fine; The printer did his duty well and the reader knew the sign; But the finest thing about it (if the word I dare to say), Is your splendid working motto : Dura com- prehendite.* The outlook that lies before you shows many a hill to climb, The getting up is wearying and demands both strength and time; But the heart that has its purpose firmly set may safely say Strong endeavor shall achieve it; Dur.i com- prehendite. Side by side with the upward road is another easier far, Its bed is smooth and broad enough and its gates wide open are. Motto : facilis decensus,t did it dare it to dis- play. Shun it; choose the upward struggling: Dura Comprehendite. *Dura comprehendite (grapple the hard things). tFacilis decensus (going down is easy). 15 Each hard lesson in your studies grapple with your mental strength Wrestle with it undiscouraged till you make it yours at length. Wealth of mine may come in leisure, learning never came by play; Only they who work acquire it: Dura com- prehendite. Take your place among the workers, never think your lot is hard; Be continuous in your efforts, be most constant on your guard. Let no day escape unrifled, each its passing toll should pay; Grapple fast, possess its treasures; Dura com- prehendite. i6 AT CLOSE OF DAY Wearied with dally toll and weight of sad- ness, Now, at close of day I come to Thee. I know not what I need nor how to ask It, But In goodness give Thou all to me ; — The sleep I need and the refreshing. Thy care for all my loved ones whom I bear Upon my heart unto Thy throne of grace. I would that we were perfect In Thy sight, But we are not : forgive our sins and In Thy mercy spare. I come. It may be my last coming, thus, at close of day to Thee. Thou may'st require my soul from me ere morning, And In the great world of rest and waiting I may be, Ere once again the morning breaks. O, grant that I may rest with those who shall receive A place beside the crystal sea. And grant, I pray Thee, that In that fair land Mine eyes may see and arms embrace Those, my loved ones, whom, even here, I seek to bless. 17 A LITTLE GIRL The leaves were falling in the woods, The fields were showing brown and sere; All nature most distinctly said: Behold the waning of the year. A little girl, with busy feet. Had gathered posies day by day; When wild-flowers failed she begged from friends Who loved and never said her nay. Each little cultivated plot, That near her home held its array, Was open to that little trot Who held their owners' hearts in sway. And so in other years may be A wider world of hearts than these. If her sweet life she sheds around On all the other lives she sees. And many beds of richer flowers Shall open to her pleading hands. If still she wields love's sceptre well And serves, herself, at love's demands. SLEEP Rest, weary one; leave God to bless The object of thy labor's prayer. Lay down thy head as on his breast, Trust in his love and watchful care. Thy battle's strain hath made thee sore, Thy soul is worn with ceaseless strife; Thy body spent amid the roar And tumult of thy daily life. But vain thy wrestling If the Lord Be not well-pleased thy cause to keep; Good effort he will honor, rest; — He giveth his beloved sleep. Commit thine hours to Him, and rest Calm and secure in thy repose; Then rise refreshed and seek his strength Once more to battle with thy foes. To guard the lip, and guard the eye, To close the ear to whispered sin, To struggle with thine own wild heart Till thou hast conquered self within. Seeking the purity that sees God's angels who around thee keep Their watch, and then renew thy rest; — He giveth his beloved sleep. This battle hath no end below; There is no discharge in this war; Where went the leader we must go Though faint we follow and afar. Faithful, enduring to the end, His strength shall bear us to the hour When the last conflict shall be fought And we shall triumph in His power. No more at morn to early rise, At night no longer watch to keep, No more the bread of sorrows ! so He giveth his beloved sleep. 20 WHAT WILL MY CAPTAIN SAY? Only a man with a human heart and hope for a longer life; Only a seaman, but at his post in calm as well as in strife. Only a warship waiting there with steam re- duced and anchors down; Only a liner outward bound from the port of Southampton town. England's shores were hidden near. Fog had thickly veiled the silent bay, With curbed speed through the shadowy white the liner made her way. A sudden cry, a ship ahead; so near she lay and motionless ! Full speed astern, too late, she strikes; lower the boats they're in distress. Near where the sharp prow cleft her side the seaman stood at duty's call. The first impression on his sense was loss — of ship, comrades, and all. Instinctive action, unreflecting, placed him on the liner's deck Ere thought could change or mind compose to hold the impulse well in check. A moment later, swift returning, discipline resumed its sway And duty shamed him — "Oh, what have I done ! What will my captain say?" Swift as he came, as swift leapt back, nor sought his act to vindicate; But for a moment's weakness to atone hast- ened to meet his fate. 21 That fate relented mattered not, his splendid loyalty had won; He stood with his captain through that hour, and his spirit said well done. TO A WORN PRAYER BOOK You little book and dear That often bringeth cheer To a heart that is sad, Yet giveth joyful note Unto a willing throat, Or a heart when it's glad. What wanderings have we seen And where together been Since the day I got you ! And still thy worth remains Amid thy many stains Unchanged from the new. Another monarch's name Links with Great Britain's fame, Nor pray we any more : Our good Victoria bless And give her cause success From near to utmost shore. And in another land 'Neath other flag I stand 'Mong folks who use thee not. Thy form still brings to mind Many good deeds and kind Which should not be forgot. 22 And though thy day be past Thy litany doth last, (I love to use It still.) May He through it addressed With His love fill my breast And make me do His will. 23 MEMORIAL DAY To-day a nation gathers round the tombs where soldiers lie; Her leaders speak the praises of the dead there laid to rest, Who, in their day and in their place, the Un- ion flag held high, And drew together North and South and bound the East and West, — From out of many severed parts made one united whole. And with their lives they gave it strength and with their death a soul. The faith in which they lived and died gave it a seed of hope; Their wisdom showed the manner and their sons — they found the way, Until a greater nation with an ever-widening scope They found a mighty nation's part among the great to play. And they bore their burden bravely still seeking to maintain The freedom of their people from the mountains to the main. And with seemly thought they gather on each Memorial day To mark the resting-places and to honor in their speech 24 The valor of the various corps that stood firm in the fray, The spirit of the leaders who were fore- most in the breech. And they teach their children wisely that they should honor show For the soldiers of their country who bore her hour of woe. As a child among the nations was once this na- tion known, By eager haste and youthful dreams and childhood's lack of caste; But all its youthful vigor had a temper of its own, When it settled on a purpose it held it firm and fast And the growing state rode safely though in a troubled sea With wealth's subtle shoals around her and self upon her lee. But ever in her greatest need she found a mas- ter true Who held her steady in her course that made for honor's goals, And in his care she weathered every dang'rous wind that blew. And he found the proper pilots to thread the treach'rous shoals, Till in the nations' gatherings she re- receives the honors shown To a nation that has done her part and is to stature grown. 25 But as the years succeed the years like needs arise anew; The Union still is to maintain and save from evil stress; She needs unselfish hearts to plan, unselfish hands to do; And the brightness of her honor is kept by watchfulness. Her hope is in her trained youth, who, well-taught in statehood's lore, Lay their hearts upon her altars as their fathers did before. 26 A MODERN PSALM O Lord, the proud are risen up Thy servants' path around. They flaunt their emblems everywhere, They crush us to the ground. They do not lo\ e our holy faith But court it for its aid; 'Neath the mantle of its worship They practice unafraid. They seek to buy its ministers To speak of pleasant things; They do not wish to hear it said Their riches may take wings. They do not wish to hear the woes That from thy lips once fell, When to thy humble followers Thy precepts Thou didst tell ; As on the lowly toilers' lot Thy blessing Thou did'st lay, And bade them love and work and trust, Flee doubt, and watch and pray. For riches Thou gav'st little hope That they could Heaven win, A camel easier could pass A needle's eye within. But blessing on Thy poor was laid; O, bring us very near, And give to us the heritage Of those Thy name that fear. 27 O Lord, the proud are risen up, They make it hard to live; They fashion all the modes in vogue, Whose voice is always give ; And on the poor who can't conform They raise the haughty brow; And none may go where lore is taught Save so as they allow. Our children look with wonder's eyes Because we cannot spare The wearing and the spending which Wealth's pampered children share. They do not understand as yet How poverty is bless'd ; To them to lack what others have Is to be sore distressed. O Lord, to them giv^e early, please. Discerning light between The wealth that ever doth abide And passing earthly sheen; Teach them the love of wisdom's store That they its words may heed. And walk its paths unceasingly Until they win its meed. And grant that they with us may know Thy presence ever near; Lord, give us all the heritage Of those thy name that fear. 28 VIA SOLITARIA Alone he went to seek for health though well he knew That first the gates of death he should pass through, and sleep, Ere his frail body found again its former strength ; And that for him fond absent hearts would sadly weep, As men will mourn their dead, in spite of Christian faith. Believing, yet awhile unheeding, what it saith. Alone he went, and though he bore a heavy cross. He could not bear that others, suff'ring with his pain. Should look into his eyes and smile and bid him cheer While they betrayed that in their thoughts they ne'er again Looked for the deep unhampered breath from weakness freed But hoped, at best, that slowly should the life recede. And where the Western mountains raise their lofty heads, A little while he rested till his change should come ; 29 A little while of suft'ring that was bravely borne, A few kind words to others, — then his lips were dumb. Into His Father's hand he gave his soul to keep, Then to the nearer presence passed as in a sleep. Strange hands but kind for him the last sad service did. And nought was lacking of accustomed care but kin; The church to him her solemn rites most glad- ly gave And he, in sleep, was borne her sacred courts within ; Then earth to earth; but the unfettered soul could roam Among the mysteries that lie 'twixt here and home. 30 EVENING RETROSPECT My soul in silence weeps in the quiet ev'ning hour, When the busy day is hushed and conscience hath its power; For, spread before its searching gaze. The sheet, that was at morning fair, Is foul and stained in various ways And many grevious marks are there. O ! fair and bright in stainless white Is each new morn when we awake ; But wrongs are done and good we shun As our ev'ry-day round we make; And marks show there of love restrain'd When clear the call of love was seen; And the bitter thoughts we cherished, — These have dimmed the once perfect sheen. My soul in silence weeps as it passes in review Sins it oft has mourned before and mourneth now anew ; And the heart is heavy and sore And droops 'neath the load of its woe, That to sins that triumphed before It should see the victory go. O! the sadness of the vision! How great the weight of such a shame ! Morn I marked with new decision And evening is too black to name. ~ 31 Most hateful thoughts I did not speak, Incisive words by tongue set free, With Vanity's recurring lust Have, O, so sadly ! humbled me. My soul in silence weeps as in pain it mourns its fall, Dreading in spite of hope its sins' continuous thrall; But weakness is my own, and power cometh Lord from Thee : My soul do Thou restore and in mercy smile on me. SIC TRANSIT We wake, yet drowsily, and rise To a short'ning day of labor. We pause to rest at early noon, Soon the falling night is neighbor. And so the wider day of life : Half waking we begin its race Earnest awhile, with zeal press on To reach some much desired place ; Then worn we close our eyes in sleep Born of the impenetrable deep. 32 THE GRAVE OF HOPE I found that lonely, cheerless, spot, When from my usual course I strayed; And in my wanderings I sought The scene of ventures long delayed. Where men for min'ral wealth had made A road into the rocky wild, And dreamed of cities there to rise If fickle fortune on them smiled. Last haunt of human kind, it stood. Ere they the travell'd highway left And striking for the mountain's brow With hopeful toil a roadway cleft. The scenes of their defeat I sought But had not thought so near to find The tokens of another fall More deeply sorrowful in kind. The little house still firmly stood. Built of hewn logs that jointed well. What hopes the builder must have had The nature of his work will tell. With care he'd finished out and in; Each little room was cozy made. There he prepared the winters storms To meet, and smile at, unafraid. 33 Beyond his house, but very near, He built a stable snug and warm ; And close beside a little cot To shield his sheep from ev'ry harm. Little by little he had cleared The land around his new-found home. In front his labor had disclosed A rapid torrent's angry foam. And great his joy when he could stand, With wife and children near his door, And see the water, whit'ning fall From jutting rock to craggy floor. And other feelings in his breast Were mingled with his pride and joy. When to their son his wife had said, "Our home is beautiful, my boy." How well they labored let the ground Out of her fatness witness bear The clover sod still in the field — Stray flowers to mark a garden fair. Then ev'ry morn to them was bright And cheerful hope set not at all ; No dark'ning shadows hid their light Nor warned of their impending fall. But not less awful was the stroke That it without a warning fell. No enemy had wished them such Else, surely, he had hated well. 34 Diptheria, that dreaded thing, Fastened upon their only son; And as fierce beast its victim holds It held him till his life was run. No neighbor aided in their need. Distance and fear kept them away. The father's arm the timber hewed That hid the son from light of day. In agony he dug the grave Still seen behind that cottage drear There stricken parents laid their boy And shed the unavailing tear. They lived; or did they? Was it life — At morn to wish the day was past; At night on sleepless couch to toss Till morn her gray forewarnings cast? They still went on about their work, But on their will a palsy lay. Each saw how blighted were their hopes Yet, bravely, each forebore to say. The produce of the field declared The lack of the impelling power; The hands that wove the winter's warmth Had less to give than wonted dower. Through winter's storms they still held on- The habit from a former hope — Though well they knew that hope was gone That nerved them with the wild to cope. 35 That year the cold was keen and long; Ere spring the fodder scanty grew ; Lean were their cattle, sad their hearts, When May, at last, the cold o'er-threw. The woodpile that each former spring Had stored next winter's heat away, Was scarce begun when seed-time came With warmth and flowers and lambs at play. May-hap returning spring had brought Emotion like its by-gone thrill, When balmy airs and growing things With gladness used their hearts to fill. But that the pinch of winter left Their youngest child with cold distressed, And tender care and gentle spring Failed to relieve the choked-up breast. Pneumonia, they said it was, That stole that youthful life away, And for her living presence left A silent form of human clay. Beside her brother she was laid. The two graves fill that little plot. There in tears the mother planted Immortelles and forget-me-not, 36 And at their heads a golden glow, Which, still untouched by browsing deer, O'er them its yellow glory spreads When autumn winds are chill and drear. Around their bed, their father built. Of cedar-wood and six rails high, A fence, well bound with cords of steel. To guard the rest in which they lie. That duty done, with old-time vigor Born of a purpose new and sad, He sold, or failing, gave away Each living creature that he had. His home and clearing none would buy Nor would they take them as a gift; And, so, today they still remain — Memorial of misplaced thrift. Once more they looked out o'er the stream, Once more went through their little home, Once more they wept beside their dead. Then, homeless, they set out to roam. No longer filled with hope to do. To make and save for years to come. But hopeful only to be brave, And always, of their suff'rings, dumb. 37 Perhaps we meet them, you and I, In town or city's crowded street — A man from whom the weight of years Has ta'en the swiftness of the feet. A man, Avhose lorm bespeaks past strength, Simple in Hfe, in habit sad, Shunning the rush and crush of men Who in their eager haste go mad; With hues upon his face that mark The power of sorrow's deeper sway, And, sometimes, in his eyes a look That is bent on the far-away. Perhaps we meet her in the mart Where she their humble wants supplies— Sweet-faced with sorrow's discipline That she hides 'ncath her cheerful guise. Her \oice is tender in its tone. Her greeting is kindly spoken; And yet, — we feel that cheerful mask Conceals a heart that is broken. The fellow-feeling of our kind Perceives, unaided by the eyes. Her smiles are but the ripened fruit That grows from resignation's sighs. And of their one left child ? Is she A solace ever by their side. Graced with the Avilling hands and feet Their weight of labor to divide? 38 Or, — is she wife and mother, too, Oft seeing in her children dear, The image of her sister laid In that lone, distant spot so drear? Three hearts are these that never quite Will lose the mem'ry of their pain. But, in reflective moments, still Will see those lonely graves again. Three graves ! Two in the little plot Where children twain lie side by side; Their former home, the grave of hope, The spot where their ambition died. What added warrant could you find, Ecclesiastes, in that place For your sad cry of vanity That sorely doth delude our race? Where they their chief est treasures kept The wild-bird now her brood doth raise. Where-in is value if it pass Like morning mist in summer days? Wherein is value? Is it not In that which ups and downs defies — In Love that never fails but draws With growing strength toward the skies? 39 A WHOLE-HEARTED GIFT In a pleasant Eastern village — 'Tis thus the story goes — Lived a little crippled maiden Sad with her load of woes. So lame her feet she needs must sit Through all the weary day Where-e'er by kind hands she Avas set To watch the others play. Her parents poor no means had found To help their helpless child Who realized their poverty And, suffering, still smiled. Yet in her heart was longing great To move from place to place, And see her comrades near at hand As happy games they'd trace. But neighbors, though they too were poor, Gave what they ill could spare ; And bought good crutches for the maid Who round on them could fare. To her they were a source of joy. They made her life seem good. How rich she felt when by their aid Across the square she stood! 40 Beyond the square a little church God's goodness called to mind; And there a faithful preacher taught The willing he could find. Long had he labor'd in that charge And little int'rest roused; Indiff'rence with the villagers, Was most securely housed. Oft through his work though not of it He weary grew and sad, And far and farther seemed the morn Whose dawn should make him glad. Who keepeth Isr'el never sleeps : His comfort was at hand; And from an unexpected source Sprang strong within that band. Oft had the preacher pled for woe That hunger might be fed, And meagre was the bounty given To send the starving bread. More oft for ignorance he begged — That what they had they'd share, To spread the story of that One Fairest 'mong many fair. And once again in tenderness He plead, for Christ's great love. 41 That they should gi\e as He had given Who gave his home above. The ushers Avent their usual round x'\nd got the common dole ; It seemed as if the preacher's plea Had failed to stir a soul. One pew remained where sat alone The little cripple maid; The usher courteously approached Yet hesitating stayed, Lest one so poor had nought to give x'\nd might feel hurt and sore If heedless and obtrusively The plate was passed before. The maid an answ'ring movement made While filled her eyes with tears. Much did it cost to give her gift — Much striving, many fears. Yet for the sake of His great love That did her heart enthrall, She laid her crutches on the plate Giving her wealth — her all. With careful hand the usher held Them balanced up the aisle, Then gently laid them at the desk With comprehending smile. 42 A wondrous hush was in that room When on their senses fell The perfectness of that child's gift, Passing what words could tell, A white-haired man the silence broke: In choking voice he said : — "I redeem the crutches brothers," Then pointed to the maid. All in the little church beheld, As he laid down the fee. That tear-drops fell beside it so He scarce the plate could see. Emotion spread and all were stirred, And dim grew many eyes. That dimness let the hearts see clear Duty and sacrifice. There were those who sat indiff'rent To the strong voice of Love, Who by this simple act were moved Their selfishness above. And they gave as ne\er before In feeling and in wealth; And some were there whose spirits took Their first step toward health. The cords that then with life first thrilled Will not be still again, But ever the cry of sorrow Will move them with its pain. 43 VINCIT QUI SE VINCIT The blessing of the Lord of Hosts, by Israel declared In that far off home in Egypt his son for him prepared, Had come upon the people great who from his stock had grown Till numbers led to sins of pride entangling e'en the throne. But the warrior, — king and captain — after the rod was stayed, Had set his affairs in order and for his people prayed; Then on Bath-sheba's loyal son had put the signs of state, And bade him live in peace and build, be just as he was great. Soon the young king saw his vision and sought for wisdom's dow'r. And from God well pleased received wisdom with wealth and power. For long years he served his people in that most trying place ; Hiding favor from the wicked, the poor be- held his face. Wearied in the cause of justice quiet he'd seek and rest. And like lonely Jacob wrestling in prayer he was blest: 44 Then reflecting solitary strange things would strangely weigh Giving thoughts and words and deeds a spirit- ual assay. And the worthy things that came forth un- scath'd from the trial, Set he down as wisdom's dogmas that take no denial. He thought of many warriors his fathers throne around, Their mighty deeds, their hateful crimes, the end that they had found : He thought of one, of name unwrit, who by his actions told That he himself had conquered well and did his conquest hold. Against him were no bloody crimes, no charge of lust preferred, His sword would flash at duty's call but ne'er in vengeance erred; His word was always fitly given, his speech was free from guile. His choice was ever manhood's part disdain- ing trick and wile. And, so, against these men of note the king in balance flung This lowly man of self-restraint and high in air there swung 45 That band of daring warriors before whom cities fell, For in the balance of the soul true worth alone would tell. Then the king bade write this proverb : Who doth his soul restrain Is greater far than he who leads a fiery con- qu'ring train. Great changes came in later years. Isr'el her God forsook. No pleading heard she; and no word from her own holy book Could move her to Jehovah's will; no warn- ing of her end Could bring back to her wayward heart the love of God her friend. So his protection he withdrew. Her foemen gathered round. Her children went to lands afar; her chiefs in chains were bound. Her name as Isr'el ceases here; and till on other shore By other name we find her called we hear of her no more. The wickedness of Judah met a punishment as just — Borne down by many conquerors, then scat- tered like fine dust. 46 Her sons are found in ev'ry land: they bear their nation's woe; Still they keep the hope of promise — Thou shalt to zion go. Of rediscovered Israel, in other speech and name, Young nations rise 'neath western skies her heritage to claim — The larger word of prophecy that God the Father spake. That they should broken be by none, and many should they break. The blessing of the breast and womb, the blessing of the arm. The power to put the wicked down, to shield the weak from harm. And of that race in Britain's isle in troublous times and hard When the English race was feeble, its free- dom hard to guard. Rose Alfred son of Aethelwulf, the first of English kings Who gave his people learning's boon, their arms the power of wings. Who set foundations broad and deep on which the state might stand, That would rise from lowly Wessex anci be an empire grand. 47 This noble youth at divers times in trying straits was found, His people scattered from their homes, their homes rased to the ground. He might, like others, then have chos'n to flee and be at ease, And leave his people to their foes whose greed naught could appease; But he chose to suffer rather with his young English state, And bide his time with patience long and work as well as wait. And the conquest of the spirit by this young ruler gained. Saved English love of liberty that with the race remained. Since Alfred's time long vistas lie dim with the mists of years; The race he cherished in its youth has grown through toil and tears; Till the multitude of nations, to Jacob's grandson giv'n. Is spread through all the earth abroad in lands from darkness riv'n. And the enabling wings, first spread by Al- fred for his state. Grew from their primal weakness rude to lofty ships and great. Their trade in peace, their voice in war, is found in ev'ry sea, Their flag bespeaks that freedom still where- with he made them free. 48 They in their sev'ral branches keep a watch upon the main ; The robbers cease before their power, their rights the weak regain. In ev'ry noble cause and good they bear a foremost part, The sorrow of the suffering is ever on their heart. The high ideals of their race are those that Alfred set: — The home secure for love's abode — the home they hallow yet — Their time in thirds, to labor giv'n, to sleep's refreshing hours. To worship God and recreate both mind and body's powers; To keep the state in righteousness as well as honor's van — To teach each child eternal truth, to empha- size the man. A thousand years have come and gone, red- writ on hist'ry's page. Still these noble hopes of Alfred, nearer, pos- sess the age. Our greatness, as among the great, is in pro- portion just As we give our lives in duty to those who are our trust. To the weak among our fellows who sink up- on the way. To the dark among the nations who need the light of day. 49 « In conquest of our selfish dreams we elevate our race And make it easier for our sons who follow in their place Fo apprehend this lesson grand — to teach both men and state, That they themselves must conquer first whose conquests would be great. The greatest men build up their lives upon this noble plan, In self-restraint and helpfulness raising their fellow-man. And all the states in faith and truth who to this purpose hold. Show self-control is more than might and righteousness than gold. 50 ABIGAIL O, wise beyond thy time ! If so it be That wisdom can be greater with the years. At whose feet sat'st thou in that long ago Unsafe, unrestful, anxious unto fears? How came it that thou first should wed a fool. Thou whose endowments did thee fit to mate A king of world-renown whose name endures Through many cycles, 'mong the greatest, great? Wert thou the child of prudent poverty. By lust of wealth upon the altar laid. When churlish Nabal of the many flocks To win thy beauty for his home essayed? Or brought'st thou to his home to serve thy hand, The maidens five who went with thee to meet The angry cheftain of the wilderness With gifts of wine to drink and food to eat? If so, what folly moved thy guardian's heart To close his thoughts to selfishness and pride, That to be folly's partner thou wast given Till death, in mercy, from him did divide? SI How shall we know ? And what thy mother's name, And what thy father's house in Israel The passing years have hid. We only know That thou had'st learned wisdom's lesson well. Still in your youth, you found your place with him Called to be king — first of a noble line; And though we lose thee 'mong the brave and wise Whose many virtues round his throne did shine, Yet well we know thy wisdom helped the state When oft the king was troubled through dark years, For in the records of their strife and pain Neither thy son's name nor thine own ap- pears. But living wisely still thou did'st eschew Ambition's call that others drew to sin. And loyal, loving, peaceful thou did'st dwell Patient and meek thy husband's realm within. Than thine what son could better teaching have ? Earth's all is theirs who know how to be meek; And worthier than pomp or power it is The beauty of humility to seek. 52 VASHTI For six long months, continuously, The monarch with his lords did feast And showed the treasures of his state, From Western seas to distant East. Then to the city's lowlier throng For still one week he spread the board That all might taste as they should choose. The favor of their king and lord. Once in his brain, inflamed by wine, A most unusual thought had place, That he the crowd his queen would show In all her beauty and her grace. "Bid Vashti come," he gave command To those who waited on his hand, "My people shall this day behold The beauteous queen of all this land." But Vashti came not. In her place As she her sex did entertain Unhesitating she refused To do that thing whate'er the pain. Full well she knews when thus she chose. No more she'd hold the queenly state; A lowly prison house or death. She knew, would be her speedy fate. But greater than her royal state Her woman's honor on her lay; Before that throng of revellers No woman should make such display. 53 O, Vashti ! In these distant years What was thine end we cannot tell Whether in lonely banishment Or swiftly by the sword you fell. But Media's sceptre from thee riv'n Far wider realm hath given thee, And the honor thou did'st honor Still helps to make thy sisters free. Peer of noblest Roman matron ! No folly looks to thee for lead, But thy brav'ry is remembered And thou art still a queen indeed. 54 ESTHER "I go this way as thou dost bid Fond guardian of my orphan years, But, know, — who enters unbesought. Enters indeed through many fears." "One law, 'tis death, obtaineth there For all save whom he favor shows, And gives the golden scepter's tip That they to him may tell their woes." "But fast for me all of my blood Three days and nights continuously. My maids and I will likewise fast, To find grace with the king Fll pray." "Then with a chastened heart I'll cross, Fearful, that fateful threshold o'er; And if I perish, — so be it. This evil lies not at my door." God gave her favor in his sight, And gracious her reception was; Despite her fears and customs stern Of ancient Media's steadfast laws. "We are sold, I and my people. Gracious king, regard my cry; If thine eyes see me with favor My humble suit do not deny." 55 "Give me my life, O king, I pray; Give me, I beg, my people too; For our enemy hath wronged us His savage hatred to pursue." "Death and destruction are the lot Our enemy hath planned for us; Had it been less — been slavery — I had not dared approach thee thus." "But, O my king if I spake not. And we should perish one and all; What race is there that could replace The loss you suffer by our fall." "Then, O my king, I pray thee save The head thy favor hath raised up; And save the people of my blood. Lest I drink death in sorrow's cup." Brave was her plea, great her success; And new through many, many years, A nation celebrates her deed, And fondly still her name reveres. And more, — where-e'er this story goes Of brav'ry in these ancient days, Thy name, O Esther, is a joy Lips part to speak in tender praise. 56 WORK-TIME SONG There are songs we love when we gather in From the calls of the busy day — From the roads and rocks and the deeds that win The things that we use by the way. There are songs that sway us with love's soft spells, Or fill us with filial pride — That tell us the story of wedding bells Or of how our forefathers died. There are songs of the sad, There are songs of the glad. There are songs of the brave and fair; There are songs of tears, There are songs of fears, There are songs of music rare, — All these are the songs of the playful hour That comes as a part of labor's dow'r. There are songs of the soul as it passes Through its time of trial here. There are songs of its slow upbuilding As it rises to God more near. There are songs of the faithful witnessings Of holy martyrs at the stake, Who denied the world's cunning caressings, Unswerving, their high course to take. Oft we sing of their pains And we sing of the gains Their sufferings wrought for men; 57 We sing of their joy, Now free from alloy, With them we praise God again. And these are the songs of the restful time We couple in thought with the church-bell's chime. There are songs that laborers love to hear In factory, mine, or quarry; Where brave men in thousands toil through the year Dread poverty's thrust to parry; For the coal from the mine has been taken And with water made to serve In the heavier burdens man once bore In rack of muscle and nerve. And the loud shriek is sweet Of the white misty sheet. As from its cell it rushes, Or with pounding shock Strikes the drill on rock And small its strong grain crushes. And the weary body is glad of rest From the heavy burdens steam beareth best. With all of steam's jarring rumble and noise There's a music of its own. Filled full with majestic movement and poise To the ear to hearing grown. And the free air that by its mighty thrust Is squeezed to a working thing, Will drive the drill through the flying rock- dust 58 With a joyous whirr and ring. There is hope in the shock Of the drill and the rock, Of what the future may feel, There's joy in the throb Of air and its sob, When urging the biting steel. O! these are the songs in work-time we hear. These are the songs that to labor bring cheer. 59 CAMPAIGN SONG As from the conflict stern we rest With arms in hand and mail on breast, We'll sing, though lately we were pressed, A song of our promised land; Or a song of the way we have journeyed And of the camps we have made on our way Since we entered the ranks of God's army, And set out for the land of endless day. Then loud let us raise our praises At the close of this hard-fought day. For the grace He always giveth — The grace He giveth alway. Our early steps were sorely tried, Fair Vanity had fain been guide "As others do so should you, too," Oft the dazzling temptress cried; But the songs of dear Zion reached our ears From the lips of the brave who passed before And we knew that they waved victorious palms Around the throne on the beautiful shore. And louder they raised their praises Through the hours of unchanging day He giveth grace — He giveth grace — Sufficient His grace alway. When our feet longer held the road Closer our spirits drew to God, Yet proud ambition with a nod Would lure our thoughts far astray. 60 But ere too far before her power we fell Redeeming love made its sweet voice be heard, And many blessings for the poor did tell With hopeful words for those that sadly erred. Then with cheer our sadness mingling Amid our shame we gladly raised, Timid songs His grace adoring — His grace — grace that should be praised. Since then we oft have fiercely fought Lest Envy should control our thought, Or that our hands by Malice bought Should seek vengeance unholy; And useless cares we never should have borne Have bowed our shoulders 'neath their hate- ful load. While jealous voices raised in spite or scorn_ Have strewed keen thorns along our pilgrim road. Now with their sorrows behind us We can look with upturned gaze Where the rest we seek awaiteth And we shall behold His face. And though hard has been the striving 'Gainst the Evil One's contriving, There'll be joy in the arriving When salvation is complete, And with joy through the strife that remain- eth, We shall sing of that sweet beautiful land Where the communion of saints is perfect Amid the throngs of the purified band. 6i of trials we will not complain, But praises sing with glad refrain, FoY the harder is the campaign The sweeter will be our rest. SUGAR TIME When the promise of the summer Wakes the sleeping maple trees. And returning birds are floating, Their first shy notes on the breeze; Then the young and old together Dream of sugar-camps aglow, For sug'ring is a jolly time 'Twixt the summer and the snow. In the evening's mirk and shadow When the fires are burning bright, They gather round the steaming pans In the hemlock's Bick'ring light; And the elders swap their stories Of their courting long ago, For wooing's always good in April 'Twixt the summer and the snow Old grandma's face is bright with s'miles As round flies the pleasant jest How grandpa met her by his wiles And how well his suit he pressed. And the old man chuckles gaily O'er his tricks of long ago. When he wooed and won his sweetheart 'Twixt the summer and the snow. 62 And while the sugar hardens clear On its bed of whitest snow, Young folks are follVing in the steps Of their elders long ago. Young Sammy has a wistful poise, Junia's eyes a tender glow: For they've found the spell of spring-time 'Twixt the summer and the snow. GRADUATION SONG To-day we join to say farewell Beloved school to thee. For long thy halls in gentle bonds Have trained us to be free. Now like the birdlings from their nest We are about to flee. We look with hope before us far — A widening life lies there. And its voice of promise calls us To dreamlands that are fair. But a tender sadness shadows Anticipations rare. Vale, Vale, Alma mater. Echo, dear halls, the sad refrain. Vale. Vale, Valedico— Valedico, once again. 63 Perhaps the birdling never comes Back to its place of birth, Perhaps its httle life is lost In wide expanse of earth Or in winging and in singing Forgetteth all but mirth. But thy children love more deeply, Though hope calls them away. And each future year they'll greet thee On Graduation Day, In glad remembrance they'll recall The friendships of their stay. Vale, Vale, Alma mater. Our sadness shall not mar the strain. Vale, Vale, Valedico — Valedico, once again. 64 29 i&^ NOV 29 i:09