-i-,M • f^*^ uMM ■^^ :rV ^'W ^ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. @]^ ioOTn^ In Shelf ...^JIjS. 5 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. U 35^^^^ '(ik/L .vv/CS' ^^^^■"ITS^Rfc^ :^-Y^^ ^1 %i .49 C Sailor By JOHN MARSHALL DOGGETT Words to Song of Hugh Allone, Sailor. ^^^^. [Badge of Allone as Life-Saver] RICHMOND, VA.: Whittet & Sheppekson, Printers, Tenth and Main Streets. 1886. ,^^^'' tV Copyright BY J. M. DOGGETT, 1886. Printed by Bound by Whittet & Shepperson, Eandolph & English, Richmond, Va. Biciimond, Va. "The most gratifying results have attended the operations of the Life-sav- ing service during the last fiscal year. The observance of the provision of law, requiring the apijointment of the force emploj'ed in this service to be made "solely with reference to their fitness, and without reference to their political or party affiliation," has secured the result which may confidently be expected in any branch of public employment where such a rule is applied . As a consequence, this service is composed of men well qualified for the per. formance of their dangerous and exceptionally important duties." President Cleveland, Message to Congress, 1885. • ADVERTISEMENT. THE following "book of words," to parts of the fore- castle concerts of the "Americ" (Capt. Tiiton) while she was on her way from the Old World to the New, is a sort of off-duty report of war-correspondents. The myste- rious mal-de-mer, (that real sea-serpent which the major part of the travelling world have but too plainly seen), while it often baffled the "beloved physician," ship's-doc- tor Lucas, is said at times to have retreated before the di- vine voice of Allone — member of the "Americ" previous to his unconsciously revealhig his lovely character as Keeper at Cape Fear. Little Echo, the daughter of a Stewardess, was the idol of the crew. Allone had what he called his "songs without words," and in such demand were they among the 'sick' that Master Tuton one night remarked in pleasantry that the Sta.te-rooms made such a prisoner of Hugh that the Offi- cers of the Propeller would have to serve a writ — habeas corpus. ADVERTISEMENT. Allone's masterpiece was voted to be "The Raven"; and snake-charming Echo's to be "First of all and always" " Home, Sweet Home." And so good-by to our well-nigh "libel" of a libretto — would that wizard Edison could have been on hand with phonograph to testify that it were as vain to attempt to report Allone himself as to try embody in a new "Flying Dutchman" the music of the spheres when the morning stars sang together. — Reps. N. B. — Of Captaiu Tutou's "strange eventful history" I gather the following cardinal points, which may do in a measure for a kind of compass to the memory, or rather serve as a skele- ton, so to say, of the otherwise mysterious and confusing phe- nomena of the role — a title role in its way — which he was called on by eternal Providence to act out upon our modern stage of events : — ' 1. He was born on banks of the Elbe. The date of his birth remains doubtful, 1 st Age : 2. But we ai'e certain that he early left the birth- them/a7ii(aud \ j)]ace, owing to the poverty and la-ge family weanling.) of his parents, and also, it must be confessed, to his own "truant disposition," and emi- grated to England ; a mere urchin. 2nd Age: | 3. That he went to school at Stratford in War- the sdiool hoy I wickshire ; and there studied, most, Eng- (acd croft-lad.) j lish. ADVERTISEMENT. 3rd Age . | the lover (of^ MiltoD.) I f4. 4tli Age : the soldier (ag't ' Napoleon.) f 7. 5th Age : (the Justice.) When we next hear of him he had worked his way, by Bath, to London and settled, having married a reigning beauty whose family- name was Charter — of gentle birth. Then he came to America to seek an Indepen- dence — the secret of the shifting scenes of his career. He is elected to the captaincy. At last he made a permanent home of the new world ; being blest in his household we will not say in spite of, but rather through the crucial trials of two family quarrels— a rebellion and a civil war they were called, the first on a matter of his own authority over his children after they were grown ; the second, a difficulty between the brothers. "^ Becoming after all, and before all, a model citizen, thus prove7a by those dispensations ; ''representing" the saxou race, which has been strikingly characterized as the Redeemer of Modern History— as the saver of these our times. We have "nought extenuated," cer- tainly "nought set down in malice," in this bare prosaic silhouette or shadow of the man, leaving it to others to reproduce the rounded poetry of his life, to bring out in bold relief his all-redeeming traits, his divine nature and mission .— \_Ed. ] a One of his sons, Charter Tuton, seems to have been the occasion, if not the cause, of this misunderstanding. TABLE. Page. Surfmen's Burial, 9 Allone's Obeisance, 13 Archangels' Hymn, : 14 The " Crusher" Dude ; a Photo', 16 A Rough Log, 17 Sonnet on Tableau, 18 Rose of Brettony, 19 Wandering Jew, 20 Cupido, 21 Our Captain, 22 The Rose-tree, 23 The Three Stages, 24 Echo at Bar, 25 Colin's Love, 26 The Storm, , 27 Jesu Keeper, 28 Max, the Blind Seer, 30 Ferdinand to Miranda, 71 Tobacco, 72 "With Downcast Eye," 73 The Giant's Grave, 74 Hilltop Zoe, 82 Sailor's Plea, 83 The Water Loo, 84 " Notes," — _ ^^ 85 TABLE. Page. The •' Communists," 85 German "Bier" Song, 86 Monticello, 86 " On Yestereve," 87 "Model's" Prayer, 88 Sailor's Kiddle, 88 Sabbath Morn, 89 Macaulay's Virginia, . 90 Je\vish Song, 91 Adieux, 92 Our Sphere, 93 The Eagle and the Python, 95 Solo of a Reporter, 95 Jesuite, 97 Castle Teutoberg, 98 Schuechterne Tritte, 99 A " Salvo," 101 Logic of Events, 102 Andromache, 103 Notes from a Log-book, 106 Jeremiacs, • 110 To John Smith, ' 111 Landlord's Lass, 113 An Item, 114 Ideal Beau, lU A Girl's Heart, 116 The Clearing, 117 Maiden's Adventure, 118 A Yam, 119 To-day, 119 TABLE. Page. Miserere, 121 Triangle Player, 122 ANote, 125 The Riddle of the Sphinx, 125 "Dei Me Nun Katheudein," 126 Tuton, 127 To Tacita, 129 Hills of Carroll, ^ 130 LiUth, ^ 131 Echo Debutante, 133 Thomas Jefferson, 134 When the Rude Nor'wester, 136 "Y'r Uncle Sam," 136 The Patrolman, 137 Hymn, 141 Lines, 142 The Cunning Loco-motive, 143 The Comforter, 144 Now that the Stately Craft's Pulsating Form, 144 How Fair, 145 A Yarn, . 146 Old Politics on "Canvass," 149 A Matin, 151 Easter Hymn, 152 Virgin Mary, 153 On my "Rounding" 33J Years, 154 The White Boat, 155 A Posie, 157 " Po'sie," 159 Leusina, 160 TABLE. Page. Madcap; May, __^^ ^_^ ^__, 161 To a Cold Beauty, 163 Twilight, 163 Note to Horace, 164 'Tis an Old Story, 165 Disgusted, 165 Forestry Song, 165 Blue and Gray, 167 House not Made with Hands, 168 Nellie Arthur, 168 To You who Jeer, 169 Maid of Holland, 169 Goldfish in Vase, 170 Jack's Love, 171 Plato's Idea, 171 Helen at Troy, 174 Air, 179 •All in a Lifetime,' 180 Echo's Exhortation, 180 Christmas Eve, 181 The Katydid, 182 The Zephyrs, 184 Allone's Songs. BOOK I. Our All one. "He is risen ; he is not iiere." A L LOME'S Songs. Surfmeiis Burial. DROOP the colors half-mast high, In the sheltering harbor nigh, Honor thus the three to give. Nobly dead that others live. O'er the Cape the westering sun, Clear-bright, tells the day well done. Gently now the creeds unite Round the fallen of the fight. Flora, too, hath strewn her best Over each devoted breast . Immortels bedewed with tears Circle on the holy biers. Well may sacred Music bring Tribute to the offering — Softly pour the plaintive strain Where the trinity are lain. There be the white cross of home, Planted under heaven's dome. 2 lO ALLONE S SONGS. Deeply rest the saving three; Mourn, our commonweal' ; for ye Snatched the stranger from the tomb, Could not save yourselves from doom ! . Hearts that love can so command Make the life-blood of a land. Such be they that prove their truth. Solace to the widow's ruth, Comfort to the orphaned hence, Lend, O kindly Providence. Servants of the sister States, Faith like yours them consecrates. ■ — Bv Frank BitterejiiL Note. — Apropos of Surf men, the following private letter, writ- ten from Home, and added here by permission, mny not be an useless ''gloss."— Eu. " The Life- Saving Service. " Having takeu with m^ a couple of the reports of this Service to beguile the weary hours of my crossing the 'ocean ferry,' I have thought, since omiag ashore, thit it would not be ub wel- come to you to be reminded, thus by a note or so, of our ' Uncle Sam,' in o^e of his noblest aad most bountiful forms. " Ttie Life-Saviug Service is a splendid army of hardy surf men, that has existed, as a regular branch of pnblic Service, for about ALLONES SONGS. II a dozen years Its chief duty is the rescue of sailors imperilled along the coasts of the Atlantic— that unruly and unmerciful body of water. It is surely, rs the reports say, 'an organized graj^ple with death.' "It consists of stations, scattered at proper intervals on the shore, each station having five men and a chief, who is called the keeper. From these companies go out patiolmeu, to constitute a long chain of manly vigilants, amid the unseen demons of the blasts. 'For hundreds of miles,' the official statement for 1881 tells us, 'of dark coast, beaten by incessant breakers, every night, and all night long, .... a line of solitary men march and counter- march to and from each other, with eyes that ransack the offing. . . . The way is long, . . . difficult, perilous. It lies along a waste, . . . whereon to walk is to trudge, ... at limes, to stumble over stones, ... or to sink suddenly in spots of quicksand, ... in the awful solitude of the winter beaches, when tempest makes the heavens and the earth tremble.' When the United States called such trusty fishermen to be fishers of men from out the waves, it started upon one of its divinest missions. " The Life-Saviug St-rvice in action has well been portrayed in a number of Scnbner—l think it is the January number for 1880. ' When I see a man cHuging to a wreck,' said a member of the Service ' I see nothing else in the world ; and I never think of family and friends until I have saved him.' Is not fhis the idtal of duty? As the superintendent reports of another son of the Service, ' The souls of such men as he have entered it, and it has become an incarnation.' " An eminent cardinal has remarked of what is virtually the same thing- the Coast-guard of England,— that it is the highest form of the truly heroic. "My chief purpose in forwarding these simple memoranda of 12 allone's songs. a body of which every patriot citizen must be proud, is to call at- tention to some of the martyi's of the cause. Here is an extract from the report of 1881, in regard to the sad loss of the keeper and two of his crew, of Station No. 7, Second District, Cape Cod: " ' The surf -boat crew were left to an unassisted battle with the breakers. Their valiant effort to right the capsized boat failed. Repeatedly the monstrous force of the sea tore them from the bot- tom. Had it not been for the cork life-belts which sustained them, they must have almost instantly drowned ; but against the cold . . . they had no pi-otection ; and the closing scene shows their vital energies failing in the death-chill of tbe sea, three of their number gaining the beach, with their souls almost jiarted from their bodies, the remainder djing in the water, where their brave hearts froze.' " There is no fiction that is not beggared by such facts, that are in perfect contrast over against the heinous miscreants of murder and of plunder, of every ruse and of every desperation, to whom there is no law except their own will, and whose success must render order impossible. "This 'surf boat party,' as it is called in the report)-, is to me a worthy image of true Christianity, therefore. 'Uncle Sam's' life-savers are an open letter, known and read of all. Their en- thusiasm for humanity is no mere drama, no diplomacy of con- spicuous ambition. They are ignorant and unlearned, indeed, in much that is going on in the world ; but I believe in my heart of heart that of such is the kingdom of heaven. "These reports, that were kindly presented to me from the cen- tral office of Washington, have been a blessing to at least one. Time would fail me to collect even a fair exhibit of the facts that are stranger than fancy. They were read out in mid Atlantic, while the staunch old craft was ' chapeling ' in a troubled wilder- allone's songs. ' 13 ness of elements, or signaling through an almost impenetrable fog, about the same time when our own sweet Longfellow's ' Excelsior' was sung to accompaniment in the dining-saloon, with inspiring effect, in a concert gotten up to aid the orphans of seamen. " Accept this poor memento. Peace to those watchmen of our home who 'died that others might live,' (Report for 1881, p. 74,) who put themselves, in the best sense, ' as dead men, for the greater glory of God,' into the power of more than heathen Nep- tune. I send you my greetings from my sunny lodging, that is neighbor to the Church of the Heavenly Altar and to the Capi" toline of the 'Eternal City.' ^'January, 1885." Allone's Obeisance. IN answer to your prayer sincere, The centre of your circle here I stand; and, without taking thought, I speak to those profoundly taught — I knowing nothing. But I ken Full wtII your need — as you be men — This : Re-creation. With a bow, Then, your obedient servant now. One gift is all I find in me, And that is faithful memory; 14 ALLONE S SONGS. I'll reproduce you- — echo you — Quite as poor slave, Blind Tom, w'd do. So Harmony's celestial sphere Of sympathy.^ — New worlds appear By night alone.- — I've heaven in view, Though I in darkness come to you. My sole professor has been love. And faith in One Supreme above; And thus my band for work prepares. My friends — for I am Yours — and theirs. Archangels' Hymn. "All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body nature is, and God the soul." Raphael. THE sun, as on his first creation. With brother spheres, his rival song Proclaims, while, by thine ordination. He moves, in thunder-tread, along. allone's songs. 15 The angels, with new strength attended, Behold where thou dost searchings scorn ; The lofty works uncomprehended Are splendid as their primal morn. (tAP.RIEL. While, round about, the earth his glory Revolves, with wondrous, rapid flight, And brilliant day of Eden's story Still shifts with deep and awful night; Against their rocks the floods of ocean Foam, dashing each tide broad and deep ; Yet rocks and floods, with dizzy motion. On, in eternal orbit, sweep. Michael. In strife, the giant tempests lower; From shore to depths, from depths to shore. They rush, and throw one chain of power. With frantic wrath, earth's surface o'er. Along the pathways of the thunder. Thy lightnings, desolating, play; Yet, Lord, thine angels praise, in wonder, The placid courses of thy day. i6 allone s songs. Choir. Thine angels, by new strength attended, Behold where thou dost searchings scorn; Thy lofty works uncomprehended Are splendid as their primal morn. —By ''Fritz: The ''Crusher'' Dude: a Photd. HAIL ho ! to each lass I'd have just a say of; So the moments I pass, Full of loves, not of love. 'Twas Maude, and then Grace, And then Hope for a while; Devie then in her place, And then Precious's smile. Hail ho ! etc. From a lone, shady walk, With the trees clasped o'erhead, (So the village can't talk,) Back — heigh-ho ! the thing 's play'd. Hail ho ! etc. allone's songs. 17 A beauty adore While you think on't, you know; Then be true, but no more — After her turn, let go. Hail ho ! etc. By Echo. A "-Rou^rk Lo^r CAREENING jauntily, fair-weather craft. Hugging the land, while flirting airs waft. Dances, ahoy ! till (Stormy comes ere ween'd), From figure-head to spanker, ' smithereened ' ! Her paint and ribbands cannot help her now. Nor all the gold that gilds, nor graceful bow. No life-boat (that " newfoundland " of the sea) — Nothing but a brilliant name hath she, And that soon disappears 'neath the tide. Woe when the laws of Stormy '-^ are defied ! ^Our log-man was evidently thinking of the "Farmer's Bul- letin" of the Signal Oflfice, — that programme of stormy for our Uncle Sam's freehold. From Balletin of May 2, 1884: "General Laws Accompanying Weather Changes in the United States. " Weather changes affecting the locality in which this bulletin 1 8 allone's songs. Sonnet On a Tableau representing " Coliii/ilna'''' as Pocahontas. THE background of a savage parliament Buried in smoke, upon the riverside, As rock the tan canoes upon the tide, Rises before me, as I view intent The virgin mediater heaven hath sent. With praying look and arms outstretching wide Across the Pale P^ace, now doth she preside Over the "painted tyrant" and his brent Circle of chieftains ! Mystery of love That saves from her own sire's wrath the form Tied hand and foot; for, blood-stained, is above The executioner's tomahawk ! The storm Of the red warriors is lulled ; and see ! At last the White Man, even, is set free. is posted generally appear first to the westward. An area of low barometer (storm-ceutre) generally moves slightly to the north of east ; an area of high barometer generally moves slightly to the south of east. In advance of a low barometer are generally found rain-winds and increasing cloudiness, with rain or f-now; in rear of a low barometer are generally found colder, dry winds, and clearing weather. " A comparison of the synopsis with the indications in this bul- letin, taken in connection with the local signs, will, at any hour, enable very useful forecasts to be made of anticipated changes in the weather." ALLONE*S SONGS. 1 9 The Rose of Brettony. SAD Jamie, hind of Brettony, Whose hut his all must be. The canton's rose loved hopelessly, And housemaid Annie she ! And Annie beauty's climax capp'd, For Hymen's "civil contract" apt,"" Yet, rude, mock'd homely Jamie's love. And nothing was that she thought of But bagpipe shrill and country dance. Whose round the buoyant heart enchants. To pretty Annie, for, the ball Of holidays was heaven and all. Maid Annie wept upon a day ; The town its feast must hold ; And she was dying, she w'd say, Just for a cross of gold. Poor Jamie sells his lowly hut, And hastes away the price to put, In secret, in a golden cross For Annie — never mind the loss. At evening, to the bagpipe's note, She danced, the cross about her throat. Vivo a^to."— ViKGiii — Kep. 20 ALLONE S SONGS. To pretty Annie, so, the ball Of holidays was heaven and all. Waiidcriiis, Jeiv. IFOR hardness at heart, ^ Was with restlessness curst; Could my crimes but depart, Happy I as at first; To the Saver of men Gave I cruelty then. To the skullery bound. As he carried the stake, With a fatherly sound, Unto me the Man spake : "Friend, you'll grant me, foot-sore. Rest awhile at your door?" I, a rebel, a brute. Without reason at all, "Take your shadow," cried out, "Convict, off from my wall; Let us not y'r form see ; You're an insult to me." ALLONE's songs. 21 Jesu, goodness itself, Smiling, said: "P>om this day And your god will be pelf, You must wander for aye; The Last Day only can End vour torments, O man." Cupido. CUPID'S an 'everlasting' child," Oft says mamma, I see, And adds, with her same manner mild, "Worse than a viper he." Now, I should like myself to know How a sheer child could injure so A shepherdess]^like me. 'Twas yesterday that Cory don Went walking vvith Glycere; Right close, right softly they talk'd on. And he to her w'd peer; He praised a little god of charms, — The very god that so alarms The soul of mother dear. 2 2 ALLONe's songs. To guess the puzzle, in some way To solve the mystery, I'll study, Colin, on a day. Our Poet, steadily; Supposing that he should turn wild. There will be two against one, child ! And no harm possibly. —By Echo. Our Captain. IF, with imcanny hands, we try Limn forth to-day His Excellency, An etch, a ' study,' of the man Is all we draw, nor more we can. We are as those with pick and spade Forerun the home that's to be made; The rubbish clear, the trenches lay, And then for others pass away. A sad, rude cast of clay at best- — A fading photo, we protest, But taken from the Ufe; maybe, A death-mask only offer we. allone's songs. 23 A finer touch, a surer hand, An easier, ye shall command; And thus the work ! At foot of it Phidias and Raphael might sit. We be but sailors that explore, Discoverers of a distant shore; Pray, go ye in — possessors be. In name of Him who rules the sea. — Echo. The Rose-fj'ee. A TENDER plant, I marked it rise. Till birds came to 't from all the skies; At morn, beside my window-sill. They perch upon its twigs to trill. Ah ! happy birds, a loving band, For pity cease now; in far land. The lover of my heart doth live. He who the song to life did give. The promise of the new world drew Him from my side, to face death, too; But why search seas and regions round For joys that at home abound ? 24 allone's songs. Ye wandering swallows, that again At every springtime seek our plain, O faithful travelers, each year Bring back with you to me my dear. The Three S^aj^es. MY children, long ago, I too Was fresh and innocent as you. And proi)er as I see you be; "Twas always springtime then to me. Like you, I loved the haj^py hours, 'Mid sunny meads and rosy flowers; And in the dance, when taking part, I too knew how to charm a heart. So was I, little children, now That fifteen Springs had crossed my brow. Then, later on, (less mad, less glad,) I chose my mate, for good or bad ; His heart was mine, and came to bless — To love is such sweet happiness. At times, when dreamy and alone, I prayed to the Eternal One ALLONE S SONGS. 25 To send an angel from above To love him with a mother's love. So was I, little children, now That thirty summers passed my brow. And later still — ah ! time must be, As waves are, that for ever flee; When winter comes in ice o'er men. How far away is summer then ! But, though Old Age may wear a crown Of pure white hairs, ere life is done. The heart, at least, cannot decay. That we to others give away. So am I, little children, now That fourscore years have crossed my brow. Echo at Bar. DO I act in defiance Of chastiser truth? Do I aim to burke science? A mysterio, sooth? The copyright moral Of men to their art 3 26 allone's songs. Do I cross, and the quarrel 'Gainst plagiaries start? Nay ! nay ! our word on it — We are echo — that's all; And we claim not one sonnet, Not one thought, big or small. We sing "catches," faint "catches," Of the voice of Hfe's sea; ' Since you'll have it so, snatches Of song. Such are we. Coliiis Love. A SMOCK white as snow, A shepherdess' hood ; Then a floweret or so, Gathered out of the wood — And nature everywhere will Make the fair fairer still. Ah ! such is her fashion Who hath won my soul's passion. Fancy you that my fair Can be made yet more rare By your laces, by gems Picked from earth's diadems, ALLONE S SONGS. 27 Or a "body" of frill Show her daintier still? Nay, nay, maids; the thoughts are Illusion and snare. A smock white as snow, A shepherdess' hood; Then a floweret or so, Gathered out of the wood — And natiwe everywhere will Make the fair fairer still. Ah ! such is her fashion Who hath won my soul's passion. The Stor7/L D ^ARK is the day and inhuman The hurricane blast, That spares neither man nor woman, In iciness roaring past — The furious, bigoted demon wind, That shouts in pride, "Ye have sinned, have sinned !" * Now rise in rebelHon the waters; Old ocean is angry now; " "Causa teterrima belli." 28 allone's songs. Like a Titan breathing his slaughters, To heaven he Hfts his black brow; Against the mighty clouds he hurls his might — The tyrannic sulphurous clouds take flight. "Away, ye clouds, superstitious, infernal!" Cries ocean, in thunder prolonged, While heaven his lightning supernal Still dashes down over the wronged, Now unruly waters; wild dread is the fray Of ocean with heaven ; oh ! maniac day ! Now wanes the high tempest, for ocean Is conquered ; his thunders grow low ; His reverberate growl of emotion Dies o'er the horizon, deep, slow. Behold ! thro' the clouds bursts the rational sun ; The ship rides in triumph; the victory's won. Jesii is my Keeper. JESU, he is Keeper — He is Saver still, Wilder tho' and deeper Grow the sea of ill. He, the offing scanning. Throws the life-lines out, ALLONE S SONGS. 29 Bravely his work manning, Snatching man from doubt. Jesu, he is Keeper — Trust the life to him; Tho' one now be weeper, Eyes with woe's brine dim. In love's life-boat landed, Fear not — storm or night; Sin's old craft is stranded; On to'rds home and light. [For bas-is of following story, see imprrtant article which ap- peared in Century while yet that magazice had its maiden name, anent a Second-Sight as invented and practised by one Max, a Polack, a "wandering" Jew; the secret of whose "miracles," as he in a sense truly called them, confounded everyone till he chose to reveal a modus operandi which would have done credit to Bar-jesus himself.] MAX, The Blind See)- of Poland. Masks of the Mask. Cabala, Aged Oracle ; a Pythoness. Max, Polish Jew; diviner; augui-er; apostle of Cabala. WiTCHA, Fortnne- teller, and player of sleight-of-tongiie. Wizard, Reporter of New World ; a " body " politic. Speites,__ Machinery Gods ; Voices of Airs (" dii ex machina'''). John Bull, Top-man. Jesuits ; Lemur : Rustics ; Donkey, etc. Time, The Present. Place, The Old World. Argument. Doting Cabala, a mysterious Anchorite, dwelling in the heart of forest, finding death to be fast approaching, goes forth at dusk from her cavern, (which winds among the roots of the timber,) and bids her Elves to summon her apprentice Max, who has hitherto been used to attract the people by leger- demain, and then to harangue them in speeches learnt by heart from Cabala, the failing Pythonist. She delivers to him her papyrus scroll, and tells him go study, while she returns to watch her vestal fire. As he is puzzling over the i^apyrus, the Elves come and teach him to read, in return wherefor, though, he is struck with perpetual blindness. Cabala's changeling, Witcha, appears, to be his guardian angel amid the darkness. Meanwhile the ancient Oracle has died ; therefore the twain start upon their mission as successors of Cabala. They begin in Poland, and next are seen upon the stage in Asia, at the base of the Caucasus. Here they meet Wizard, reporter of the New World ; he loves Witclia : and so the melodrama closes with trysting scene, 31 Scene I. Tivilight in wildeniess. Enter Sprites, flying, singing. 1ST Sprite. Well met, fays! 2ND Sp. But what's y'r name? 3RD Sp. It is, it is — all the same 1ST Sp. What is in a name? they say. 2ND Sp. All that's in a word. 3RD Sp. Eh, eh ! 1ST Sp. Words, with this or that hue made, Lizard-like in sun or shade. 2ND Sp. All depends upon the light. 3RD Sp. You are right; oh! you are Right. 1ST Sp. I believe that it will rain. 2ND Sp. I believe it won't- — again ! 3RD Sp. I don't know what I believe. It is true, I grieve, I grieve. 1ST Sp. Don't believe what you don't know. 2ND Sp. Ah! you can't; I'll show, I'll show. 3RD Sp. I believe that I don't know. 1ST Sp. It is so; oh ! it is so. The Three. What is in a name? they say. All thafs in a word, eh, eh 1 Enter Cabala, o?i cmtc/i. Cabala. What ! spirits of the breath, so soon Veering in the horned moon? 32 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 1ST Sp. Does it wane, or does it wax? Cab. That will now depend on Max. 2ND Sp. lAside.^ As with sun at Ajalon? 3RD Sp. With the magic orb be't done! Cab. For a Jew can, at his will, Say to sun or moon. Be still. 1ST Sp. So can I, upon my word! 2ND Sp. But a sphere hath never heard. 3RD Sp. You may say it without end; I'his is a free country, friend. The 1'hree. You may say it without end ; Po'land's a free country, friend. Cab. Bids the Jew the magic cease; Then will lunacy decrease; For in Georgia thus, 'tis said, Mooning myriads are made. 1ST Sp. Thus it is that women there Better than their husbands are; While the house-wives house-work ply, Men are gazing at the sky ! 2ND Sp. Georgia the fair-ladied ! '* *■* Georgia in Asia, at the foot of the fabled Caucasus, has ever been known for the ideal beauty of its women. Indeed, the Georgian generally has been pronounced by travellers as the hi^-h- est type of Aryan physique. Living, as they do, in the shadow, if not practically under the wing of Turkey, they, of course, are by no means patterns of " the inner man." — Hep. 33 3RD Sp. Higher ! There ' Prometheus ' stole the fire. The Three. There Prometheus stole- — the fire ! Cab, And the Eagle 'fired' at liver. I ST Sp. So doth fate reward a giver. Cab. It depends upon the liver. Three Sprites. So doth fate reward a giver; It depends- — upon the /l7'er. Cab. Hush, Ariels ! hush y'r idling. These be times of toils. Go fetch me the green Pole. My old and faithful trio, invisibly suggest to him my wanting him. I'll 'stick' this very stick. 1ST Sp. Screw your courage (there's a joint!) To the — to the — sticking point. The Three. To the- — to the- — 'sticking' point! \Exe21ut Spi^ites. Cab. While I crawl and fetch my sealed scroll of Ora- cles : they find it obscure who know not the ways of love. Speed you, speed you, my good trinity — Come, crutch ; I am at last a lean and withered hag; "old as the hills," so giddy school-girls mock their nurses. Conie, crutch; I need thy good supporting, humble cross. \^Exit Cabala. Scene II. Grotto of Cabala. Enter The Three Sprites. Sprites. Mistress ! we have sought y'r man Far and near, as well as can; 34 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. Went where on divans were curled Undines of the under world, Fair or ebon they, or yellow. As they lay supine or mellow; Went where, like the Book on shelf, Buries he or she oneself In the silent cloister cell, Where each bell-stroke seemed a knell, — And where not ? but found him ne'er, Till upon a sea-shore drear, — Fishing not the finny band. But the drowning on dry-land ! \Exennt Sprites^ courtesying, aloft. \_ Cabala rising and holding forth in the dark an oii-tojxh, leaning on a s hep herd's crook. The scroll at her feet. ] Max. \_To Imnself as he gazes.'] O mother Cabal ! in y'r deep sunk eye. The embers of y'r fascination glow. Cab. Max, you are a know-nothing quite — Small Latin, and less Greek, and no Hebrew. Max. I am a Hebrew, though, dame Cabala. Cab. Hold ! I did mean you were an Israelite Indeed, in whom I never did find guile. I took you up, you know, a fisherman, Unlettered in the snakiness of "truth." Max. Adders sh'd have the flesh whipp'd from th'r bones. MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 35 Cab. The nets you cast were of the concrete sort, And the cold-blooded that you mesh'd were fish. Max. [ Quizzing?^ They say that fish is A i '' for the brain, "A I at Lloyd's," as is my gallant craft. -'Note. — "A, 1." — "'A, 1' at Lloyd's" is a common British proverb for whatever is excellent. "A, No. 1," we often say in the United States. It, as is well known, originated in ship-in- spectors designating craft as " A, ' or "B," or " C," etc., accord- ing to merit; and so super-excellence was reported as "A, 1." Max, being a Hebrew, is no doubt alluding to the strange pen- chant of his tribe to attribute supernatural significance by nume- rals and letters. Thus the 276 of Acts xxvii. 37 has been interpreted to mean "Caesar," or "Nero," or possibly both, according to the nuaieri- cal power of the letters in Hebrew or Aramaic at the time when that ship is supposed to have been wrecked " by the violence of the waves." The familiar case of Rev. xiii. 18 is an old puzzle. "There's hick in odd numbers," says the silly by-word; in contrast to which we are reminded of the pretty French song, " So if it tnie's joy goes by two?," of a single man. "All one" is an ordinary phrase for "all right." Then, may- be the superstitious Max meant to imply something hke " A' one," (as the Scotch say,) for the name of his dogger-boat. ... To say the least of it, anyhow, "All one" is certainly a case in which "extremes meet." . . . What's in number? The wolf doesn't care how many the sheep be. "The more the merrier.*' Equally absurd the ancient tendency to augur by sheer numerals. How- 36 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. Cab. \_ReJ>rovlfig.~\ None are so blind as t?iose who will not see. Max. I see ! I see 1 Cab. Know, Max, that such as you Are the salt of the earth. Max. The "salts," my mother; For we 're a sailor stock." Cab. That ruddy cheek That ocean airs have sweethearted so with Disclaims the sad infections of the mob, And honest ways of you bespeak a breast That dogma's dry-rot hath not touch'd. Thus far I have but used you. Without scrip or purse. You went into the city, and entic'd The mass to have their fortunes told to them. They were the blind fish of my mammoth cave. "Entic'd," I say; for you went by my sight, And this did I. ever, the power of a name is shown in the fondness (for one cause or another) of ship companies for the name Lloyd (at whose office ships used to be registered in England). "The North-German Lloyd" and the " Austro-Hungarian Lloyd" are famous lines of steamships. And "Lloj'd's" is still noted among the craft of crafts — an office "known like a book "in "famous London town." —Rep. " I believe he rejoiced in the — lock jawing— patronymic of Litz. ched. — Hep. MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 37 Max. \_Looking a?'Oiind kirn.'] Then, mother, where am I? Cab. [ G7'itting7\ I '11 let you know. This is, my heart-pangs' son ! The mouth of an infinite labyrinth. The catacombs of Paris and of Rome Are but mole-burrowings compared to mine. I have the clew; I'll let you have 't anon. Ah ! as I stand and hold this beacon up, Adown an endless o'er-arched stairway seems My light to cast its resurrecting ray. Max. So shines a good deed in a naughty world. Cab. Max, the whole world's in a Python's folds! The circling monster mesmerizes flesh; His eye is on the genus homo^ and That Retina doth photograph mankind, And is the cozening mirror that betrays As, in the fable, the dog's shadow did. But to sum up y'r life. You were a babe And suckling. You believed it gospel all ! Well done, my good and faithful servant. Now, Then, enter into y'r reward. No more I claim y'r service. I dismiss you forth. Max. [ Weepi7ig7\ No, no, my veriest mother ! Cab. As y'r faith Was questionless, the monkey still in man 38 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. Aped what you said; and by y'r flatteries, You tickled them to make of you a seer. Wise prophet he that mouthpieces men's hopes ! Max. Then — have you played with me at Hoodman Bhnd? Cab. Nay; I have caught you with the tricks of love. Son, shudder not; I speak in parable. I (that am "truth") have set my cap for you. Enter First Sprite. Cab. Sh ! sh ! Ho, Abba ! why alone at eve ? Sp. The other twain Do work amain In parlors thro' the city; In lovers' ears The hopes and fears Of life they sing in ditty : "It might have been, It might have been, But was not — what a pity ! " Max. [Starting^ Whence is this voice? What be these fairies, grandam? Cab. Fata Morgana. Max. That is Greek to me. Cab. "Unto one of the least of these, unto Me." Max. Y'r commentary, as says sailor lingo, MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 39 Is " double Dutch, and coiled against the sun." You're puzzling a§ 'the sailor's mystic song'; Unfold the Log'-Book of y'r signs. Cab. I will : You ask what is it that is in the air; The spirit that is men's remembrancer— What with y'r holden eyes you cannot see. I'he story that I told you was a blind. Sp. It might have been, it might have been, But was not — what a pity ! Max. I see ! I see ! Cab. Off at a tangent, eh ? So be it, tho'; for I have sown the seed. It was a blind ; let me remove the blind. Shy not ! but keep y'r eyes within y'r head. Sp. Fortune is a fiction, friend ; Conceit itself, and without end; Fancy's dearest son. If his failures sh'd be told, Not the world itself could hold What he has not done. Max. I see! I see! The steam-engine's a fiction. Cab. Most true; a composition, copyrighted, And labelled : " Damn'd be he that adds to it ! " Proved to have been revealed to Watt alone, Quite perfect and entire — monopoly. 40 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. Max. He adds not to, who reproduces man ; And reproduction proves virility. Sp. Change the weather ! make it warm For the workers of the charm. Cab. Maximus, I see that not in vain I found you and initiated you. Schooled by the rough waves of experience, You yet have had a compass from my crypt. Max. One truth, you said, was as a rising sun, lb which your art was but as morning-star. The fact of this United States hath taught Better than have the universities,— Better than have the systems and the books.^ That is, then. Teacher. There in other form The Son of Man is manifested; other Only in robe — to the eye's eye the same Yesterday, for ever, as to-day, The everlasting gospel of the truth. Cab. The robe of history is never old. You have been an apt scholar, little Max: To say the least of lessons you have learnt. You like to give examples of a rule. Word-worshipers sh'd be in penitentiary. Max. Stripe-clad like wasp, and head-shaved Hke monk. * An echo of a saying of one of those preddential men, the Adamses. MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 41 Cab. So, then, you've profited within my gi-otto. {Re-enter Sprites, st7iging the kyj?m. "Silent night, mysti- cal night," etc., a7id then die away. Cabala falls asleep. Exit Max.^ Scene III. Sun up. Enter Max, knocking at the Grotto. Cabala appears. Max. I'he dews of grace upon thee, ancient Vestal. Cab. Heaven's morrow unto you, my Max. We've met After scarce time eno' for shifting scenes. Yet I have dozed. Max. And I have dreamt my dream. It was an old, old dream of sleep-walking. Cab. And yet y'r eyes were open. Max. a bHnd seer. Cab. Son, I deliver up this sibyl scroll. Until shall come my date of openness, Guard with angelic honor this, my trust. Dread (as the fairies dreaded Demogorgon. Ere I was disenslaver) to forestall me. Take it, and use it (like a bayonet-sword), When you shall have the news that I am dead. Tho' of much part of it I owe to say 'Tis poetry of neither rime nor reason Upon the surface, yet between the Imes 4 42 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. Read ! and what prose is there ! Take it, then^ Max, And ply it, in the heart and thick of fight, Against the savage dastards of the dark. The hireHng crusaders of the west, — Ghouls that hope still to blast home — and burke God- Pest- friends that boycott Jesus ! Take it, son, This papyrus that heaven's reporters wrote \ Ay, I will tell it thee, with their own blood. History is the life of God : it is summed up With character the Called alone decipher In this old record of the Son of Man, — Love's old, old story always new. Leave me To trim anew my torch of olive-oil, And to thy hermitage repair and study My book, and go when thou hast learned to read, And read aloud to all ! And so love truth With love whose life's a honeymoon. My new-born, Begin to study; ay, be "dead in love;" Then, with y'r eyes oped, come to see me. And ere I die I '11 to thee give my torch too — Which thou shalt hand on to thy spirit's heir, And he to other, and so on forever. \_Exeunt. MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 43 Enter a band of Peasants, la if k farming implements, etc. 1ST Peasant. Hist ! here, they say, resides the Crooked Ogre: Yon is the rock she touches with her staff. And up it springs — 2ND Peas. As Sesame knew its name. 1ST Peas. Woodmen in horror whisper they have seen her Winding along with eye Hke will-o'-wisp ; And swear her glance is like a lightning flash And blasts whate'er it strikes. Peasant Girl. When comes It out? 1ST Peas. She never shows her form save after sundown. 2ND Peas. Many declare 'tis but an old wife's fable, Hatch'd by the hearth at ember-tide; and liken This "he" called Cabala to the sea-serpent. Peas. Girl. I do believe in it. Some say that Max Follows the weazen Hornie to her cave. Peas. Matron. In sooth as I have heard him, oft me- tho't He knew things that he had no busi- ness with. — But we are safe while it is open day. 1ST Peas. Some say this is the Seven Sleepers' cave, 44 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. For which the sun alters his course twice daily, So as to chase the vampires from the vaults; And well may Cabala seek such a haunt. 2ND Peas. And who shall cut the j/ig'/ars of the vampire ? 1ST Peas. What's that? 2ND Peas. This lying — for God's sake ! Peas. Mat. Oh! I adore a coloss'us* lie. 1ST Peas. I don't beheve that Cabala's a he. Peas. Mat. Nor I. I do not worship her. She's cross, They say, as setting hen. 1ST Peas. Or poet spinster, Or politician that has lied for nothing. 2ND Peas. 'Tis bad to be for nothing good. But come ! We're talking under influence of the Hornie. I almost see her crouch'd behind the rock. \_Exeunt^ singi?7g gaily. Enter two students, on an outing ; sitting on the rock. 1ST Student. "Quem vocet divum imperi mentis Populus rebus?" 2ND Stud. An echo answers : "Rebus!" 1ST Stud. In sooth a rebus. 2ND Stud. And an omnibus. 1ST Stud. Let's run a 'bus — a patent omnibus! ^ One reporter has taken it down ' ' colossian. " — -Ed. MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 45 2ND Stud. I see that you believe in copy-right. 1ST Stud. I b'lieve in copying, so it's done right. There cannot be in these days patented A god — that patent any may add to. 2ND Stud. If men could only see from out their eyes ! 1ST Stud. I'd only add to 't that it should be — patent. 2ND Stud. " Omnibus rebus ! " 1ST Stud. By all means. 2ND Stud. Is y'r motto. Surely the truth — is no — creed's private car- carriage. — What's that you're reading? 1ST Stud. Pardon! in the "New Birth," Sent me from Athen, quite a queer pro- gramme, In honor of old Greece's "palingenesia." 2ND Stud. The resurrection (as 'tis said) of Hellen. 1ST Stud. Out from the grave — of slavery and Turkey ! 2ND Stud. So are the States still buried down in Mor- mon. 1ST Stud. There is the grave of God in history. 2ND. Stud. The grave of God. 1ST Stud. The grave of hope divine — Thou by thine agony and bloody sweat. And by thy passion, cross, and burial, And by thy glorious resurrection, God ! 46 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 2ND Stud. Ay, we are saved by hope. 1ST Stud. Anchor of the soul. \^Exeunt^ singhig the college-song: "Studentes sunt ama- biles," etc. They prepare their guns\ Note. — Demogorgon — i. e., * ' People-petrifier. " The other ety- mology, of "demou-gorgon," is, to say the least of it, tautologi- cal. This divinity of the dark ages is alleged to have had his throne amid the summits of Himalaya ; and we are told that pnets have even feared to pronounce his name. Milton mentions "The dreaded name Of Demogorgon." The o^her spelling of this strange god's name (in the Greek) is, of course, the^prevailing one, but, in our humble opinion, is no more the original than is "Jehovah" of " Jahveh." Demogorgon, to be sure, dates back further than the dark ages ; yet he may likely be specified as having only been born of anti- quity. The history of this dark, shadowy body is "Like the cloud-shapen Giant That bestrides the Hartz mountains." But, no doubt, like that phenomenon, he was simply a reflection aloft of what was going on in obscuration in the valleys far below. Something like this thought may be easily inferred from the fact that he was despotic master of the fairies — those miniature fates, in reality. He seems to have subsided somewhat, as did Mephis- topheles at the sight of the cross, — "Mephist -pheles," by the way, being another illustration how GJ-reek names, like this same '* dsemogorgon," (and, indeed, like that ApoUyou, the "Kuklux," that so long lorded it below Mason and Dixon's Line,) as well as Greek ideas, become corrupted. —Rfp. MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 47 Note. — Folio vviug is likiily the very programme referred to by our student. — Rep. [Mark the Greek's bad priutiug-tbe slips of the Sous of the Type!] A E K ATI A ^' E/.ro.y.ro'^ Hayrjyupt/.Yj IlapdrFram'^ JidT7j'>iAi /.at Mof>zu(7T(fAt(TT<>v Mip<><^ r/pajTO'^ I K r A A A Apapa TOO dtti^o'poo I. BAIIAEIAAOYet^ ppaEtt^ 4. Ba(nksh<>u und A. Boup^ooptcoroo 3Iipi)<^ rpiroy H 9 Till NYKTOI hwpwdia TzpojTOTUTco? et? p.ia'^ ~pdEtv. una Eoayy. lla'^To-ooXoo, ^^rj? dtddfrxszat dtd Tzpojrry^ (popd'y. 48 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. EI(T(>du^ fj.£zd y.aOtff/j.a-o^ (TUfiTre/HAa/jMa^o/iivou xa\ TOO (fopou dp 2,20 E'L(T()8i)^ /.. X. a'EtcDiiarixu)'^ " 1,50 " 6zo)pstu)v " IjSO " 'Trzspwou XsTzrd 80 Oi k'^o'^re': £'t(Tod<)v Oswpetcov ttaipyovrat dxioXbrw^ e^V rd r^c Etmzrjpia -loXoZr^zat d-d -pco{a<^ tv rw xa(p(pevt[ii)ZA XA PA TOY ■Kpuj'rjv Tffoya^ -apd rd Xaorela. "Apyezat tyjV g p.. p.. Prelude to Canto II. Morning T^vilight. Enter The Three Northern Fates. Max /;/ study. The Three. [ Chanting.'] Hail ! First. I am the eldest Nor'n, Hauntress of the glimm'ring morn. Second. And am I the middle onej My time is the present sun. Third. I, the latest born, at eve Come on duty. First. Soon to leave, (For the darkest hour is ceased, And that crack that streaks the east Signals me, a wee time more, MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 49 And my sentry will be o'er,) Quick I say ttiat we with pride Have your inmost thoughts descried. Hark ! I hear your thrumming heart ; Calm you now, and do not start. Much the labor will be praised; Raise the stock, and each is raised." Yours it is to make men fair, — Show what ugly ways are their ; And how truth's is to begin Working outward from within. Max. Who be you, in whose sharp eyes Mortal, as an hour-glass, lies Thus to be looked through? Second. And told When his hour is out. First. [Speeds away ; to the others^ Unfold ! Second. Man, we are your fates of old ; Steel you now to hear the word That in scripture you have heard. Third. Perish Craft, or justice must. Second. Listen, child of heat and dust. Max. Utter ! my long-unspared ear Now can any message hear. '' "Sublato genere, tollitur et species." 5° MAX, THE BLIND SEER. Third. Torn and tainted by the strife, Death already shififs y'r Hfe; You that have been man of war See the temple, but from far; Other, softer, hands shall build Noiselessly, Max. Be it fulfilled ! Third. See a frigate, her whose form Weathered lightly every storm, Suddenly, in gallant plight, Founder in mid-ocean's sight. So I draw the horoscope Of great Babel, hell's own hope. — But the sun goes up ; the field. Sister, {to the Second,'] unto you I yield. Jewster, we shall meet again At the end. {Hastes off. Max. And welcome then. Second. Son, until the eventide Of this day, closer at your side I remain; but, in full light Of the sun, I fade from sight. Ere I go, remember, dear, Tho' unseen, that I am near; Soldier, in the battle stand. Like a snowball in the hand, MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 5 I Shall the fable melt. We four Meet at midnight. [ Vanishes. Max. \_SIeeJ>s.'] Then, 'tis o'er? Canto II. Scene I. Max at his retreat in the desert, poring over the scroll. Enter, above, the fairies, Abba, Bathcol, and Rucha, — yet invisible to him. Max. \J^ea(lingr\^ " Beware of men " — Voice. For they are beasts of prey. Max. {^Starts. \ What now? Voice. I 'm echo, fated Wandering Jew. Max. Of what? Voice. The very Voice that's there writ down. My name is "daughter of the Voice" — Bathcol; My doom is by tradition to repeat Along the ages what 't were vain to write. Consider how love-letters oft kill love. And learn how words in black and white — Max. Breed schism. Voice. So, when men say, "Write to us," say — Max. I write not ! Voice. "Carnivorous creatures feed on one another. Antagonism is the law of life. 52 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. Resistance is the secret of survival." 'Tis the old tale of Python and — his quarry. Max. Ah! now I see the inspiration oft; " Words are intended to conceal thought " ; they 're At best the virile toga of fierce fate. They are the wooing dress that hides the serpent ! I thank thee, unseen mentor. Voice. Think and thank, For you might study until you were green; But I alone, the spirit, do reveal. Max. Then wisely mother Cabal bade me study, And then sent thee — Voice. To prove the difference. Therefore we three call thee fated Wandering Jew. [^They show themselves. Max. I see you, and y'r name is love ! The Three. Enough. [ They vanish. Max. Mother, I 've read ! [^Spirits seize the scroll. Voice. She's dead. You have the torch. The antidote of poison secret. Lo ! [Max is struck stone bli?id7\ Voice. Man, you are doomed to everlasting night. Max. I see! I see! The Sprites. \^Singingr\ ''I see," the blind man said; "I see," the blind man said. MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 53 Enter Witcha, a Gypsy girl, dressed as a rainbow. Max. One thinks of angels, and one hea.rs the rustling. 'Tis midday, and the sun shoots at the Nadir; Yet here I am — Sp. Eclipsed ! Max. What go between? Witcha. \^Aside.'] A reader of men and women — by torch-light. I am the mystic flame of life made flesh — , \_Ahmd,'] A Gypsy from the crypt of Cabala. The fairies buried her in labyrinth, Where she awaits, as looking to the Maker, Her resurrection in her child. Max. Amen. May sleepless spirits guard the labyrinth grave, — But sure you are a godsend, little Palmer ! Witcha Give me y'r hand; 't may have the "cipher" $. Sp. 'Tis time to show y'r hand; 'Tis time to show y'r hand. Max. Then, here's my palm, fair page. Witcha, Upon y'r left palm is an N' ; no, M ; Upon y'r right, old-fashioned W ! Sp. Let not the "left" know what the right is doing. — And thereby hangs a tale, And thereby hangs a tale. Max. I'll clap my hands; and so a monogram ! 54 MAX, THE BLIND SEER, Sp. a wedding-invitation: "Max and Witcha!" Max. Cease haggling, spritely beings. Witcha. Ah ! I see the W is but two V's crossed. Max. Into a -|-? Witcher, I am non-plused. Witcha. I hope not. Max. Max, Maybe the M is Monk. Sp. Nay; 'tis Spencerian handwriting for "Monkey." Max. I pray you, soothsayers, go not backwards ! Witcha. So, Max, you see I 'm teaching you your letters. Max. Rare thing to be a man of letters - patent. 'Tis God's handwriting, not on walls — on man ; And, oh ! how it inverteth history ! Witcha. Max, I am come to be y'r cicero. As we go hand in hand through this black world. I have the clew. \_Holding two united balls of thread of India rubber. They start out. Note. — The '"Grypsies" {i. e., "Egyptians") are another illus- tration how there may be nothing in a name. They are not Egyptians at all, as was once taken for granted, but are Indians -real Indiaus, — that is to say Aryans. However, they may be also called "Indians" in the American sense gene- rally, if we may adopt Webster's definition, who, under the head of '"Gypsy," says: "... a vagabond race . . . living by theft, fortune-telling, horse-jockeying, tinkering, and the like." Tin- kering ought to be a respectable calling (though, are they and MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 55 Scene II. Outskirts of Uiikno'ivji Village. Enter Max, Witcha leading him by the hand. Max. Rainbow, I 've learnt y'r language. Witcha. So now you see me with y'r iris vain. Max. Ah ! as y'r scarf was wafted o'er my hand, I told its colors with that subtle sense plumbers rarely "plumb"?). Maybe tinkers are like "John, John, the piper's son," of nursery fame. The '"Gypsies," therefore, are likely the nearly spent one of those con-centric ludo-Furopean waves of migration which have, in the course of time, inundated Europe and America, and bid fair to overspread the lands, " As the waters cover the sea." The happiest phrase that Macaulay ever used in verse is : "The Gypsy, Poetry." Indeed, there is a kind of poetic justice in still calling our primeval Nomads by the conjuring name Egyptian; in naming, christening them after the Copt. These archetypal tramps, these unbaptized foresters, living by their wits, (as the saying is,) are no inapposite namesake of the Sphinx-like Semite, who wrote in hieroglyphics, and earned a livelihood by what law now declares to be "false preteises," and "having no visible means of sup- port." 'Gypsy lore is a thing that the Ithuriel spear of Induction soon reveals to be vacuous nothing Longfellow, in his "Span- ish Student," gives us some nice hints of 'Gypsy life. Yet Poesy, the 'Gypsy queen of arts, might be named "Kosetta"; for (though to the eye as nothing as a ghost) she is still the great in- 56 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. The seers of this world can never have. Eyes have they, but they see not. Color-bUnd Are many who imagine that they see. Daughter, I once was bhnd, but now I see ! The orb of "outward sense," though all ecHpsed, A new sight is born in me, to transcend The glorious vast of nature. Now mine eyes Are shut upon the world, by faith, \J)owi7ig to his guide ^ not sight, I walk. Dovie, the birds have fed the martyr. WiTCHA. The Swan of Avon and the Secretary Bird? Max. Where hast thou seen these, child? In the mu- seum? WiTCHA. No; they are in the air. You've learnt my language? Max. You shift the meanings of the common words. By permutation, too, of accents, tones. You have at last built up a book of sounds, Whereto the lordly Webster seems abridgment. It needs the memory of rhapsodist To con such; but, that granted, all's plane sailing. You ask a question, and involve the answer. terpreter— the rock upon which the verbal air castles (to speak in paradox) of credos are builded ; and her immortal soul is that transporter, that transfigurer, of so-called real life — the im- agination. — Re'p. MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 57 WiTCHA. So have we a strange tongue shall non-plus e'en The learned Orthodox/^ Max. To the market place We '11 go, and practise sleights of second-sight ! We'll show New World by spirit's thaumaturgy. WiTCHA. A sphere where Caghostro is no 'count Max. Dovie, I translate thee to "Columbia"! Sprites. [_Siri£^i/i^^.^ Be the wise serpent and the harm- less dove; Be clever — in a word that both Worlds love. Refrain. — Be the serpent and the dove; Oh ! be clever — that's my love ! Max. The fays do shadow our way — dog it all ! ' And so we god the Lorelie of song. Sprites. \_Si}iging?^ And that has been done by the singing Of the song of the Lorelie ; And that has been done by the sing-ing Of the song of Lore-lie. Max. Rainbow, at best words utter us but poorly; Hardly do fleeting breaths tell what's immortal. Then, oh ! what cruelty to shape those words Into a shibboleth t' enslave men's minds, « The Greek Church (of Russia, etc.,) styles itself "The Ortho- dox."— i?6j9. 5 58 MAX, THE BLIND SEER, And gag th'r mouths, and bloodhound them with priestcraft ! Dovie, I weary of an endless echo Of foreign gibberish. Undefiled English, For instance, slighted in her castle Home, Languishes while men go whoring in heart After a rotten carcass of the ancients. Ah ! mother Cabala love's holy chrism Watched till at last it leavened into you, Who, thus born out from nature's mystic cavern. Shine ! life's elixir ! christal of the times. The price of peace is war ; of pleasure, pain. 'Tis history's end, by labor exquisite. To bring forth truths; to add all up in One; By infinite ascension, build to God, Condensing oft the unseen into power; (And truth is power;) so, as we say, God forms. WiTCHA. Poor w'd a picture be without its frame. We worship our genius — 'tis our constitution ; But basely we forget the framers o't, — T\\Q Joiners, who bowed humbly to the work Whereby the canvas of the ship of state All the four quarters of the compass takes. To speed — and godspeed — man along time's vast. There's no propeller like a good idea. MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 59 Max. And what a fine idea you are, beauty ! Columbia, the "bouquet" of all bouquets! The magnet, the Grace Darling of the day : With malice to'rds none, with charity to'rds all. \^Asu/e.^ The better angel of our nature, you Harmony of the mystic chords of memory ! ^A rainbow appears in heaven. Sprites. [Singingr\^ "Triumphal arch! that spann'st the sky When storms prepare to part, I ask not proud philosophy To teach me," etc. Max. At Sumter's maiden battle, there were hourly, Of ordnance, crossed and met above the wave, Two tons of metal in the air 1 The fortress Capitulated with not one life lost On either side, — ay, not a human wounded. Officer or "man" ! So was the Pantheon Lifted aloft; and so was Re-adjustment Hoisted at the polls in Virgin State ! And so, methinks, to many another Dodo Wings might be given. Peace hath her victo- ries No less renowned than war. Sprites. "Not one life lost." It might have been. But was not ; what a pity ! 6o MAX, THE BLIND SEER. "Not one life lost." It might have been, But was not ; what a pity ! Max. Then, what a lesson is that history ! What an at-one-ment — for good and all ! But we have got to gossiping, my dearling; And you may say that you are jewed to death, Or rather jawed, as ladies by "illusion." WiTCHA. Nay, nay, god-father! Max. Ah ! you are ?ny god-child ; And I believe that we are one in spirit. Oh ! I am played-out. [ Takes seat in common. But I '11 not be out-played. "Ther^ is more of prose than of poetry about this life.'' Witness, the newspapers. Prose is, so to say, in the ma- jority. Indeed, to the major, poetry is prose and prose is poetry. Then, if men choose to set up a tragedy and wor- ship it, let them not insist that the parts they may have as- signed to us Jews in that tragedy shall be acted by us out in every-day history, or retribution will stir up the major- ity (against so putting us in iron mask). It is poetry to the management, and tickling to the major, to see us ku- kluxed; but if these bad manners go on thus, history wil' furnish us with a prose tale; and they who turn poetry into prose at our expense, who "give" a big tragedy at others' cost, may have the prose of it ! and, of course, such prose MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 6 1 will be the best sort of poetry for the major. Let them have the prose of it ! \_Exet(7it, Witcha singing, "When this cruel war is over." Scene III. ATaj-ket-place. Fair-time. In Georgia. Enter three monks. 1ST Monk. Yon is a blindfolded man tended by a pretty 'Gyptian. He looks bhnd as a pole. 2ND Monk We'll go salute him and give him an alms. 3RD Monk. His sight is likely too weak for the light. We will be merry. How d' y', Mr. Cupid? Max. \_S/iarp/y.'\ How are ye Slaves? 1ST M. How knew you we were Russians? Max. Ay and serfs. — I am a thought-reader. 2ND M. Then you are not much given to literature. Max. \_Atond.'] I also practise second- sight! \_A cj'07iid gat/iers.~\ 3RD M. They never love who love not at first-sight. Max. Familiarity breeds contempt. "Sot" in crowd. Good ! god dog it. What's y'r game, stranger ? Max. Logo-machy. "Sot." Log-making! — writing up the log? 1ST M. \_Aside.'] Logomachy — a barbed word that. Such is life. We'll make him 'sing!' \_Aloud.'] Why wear you the blindfold, my friend? 62 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. Max. For fear first-seers may think I'm 'practising.' Practise what you preach. Enter a Reporter, dressed as U?icle Sam. "Sot." Who are you, countryman? Reporter. I am a reporter of pistols — an informer upon the subject of concealed weapons. Monk. [^Aside.^ Satan in a booth playing with a guit-ar ? \^J[/oi/d.^ I thought you were a husband-man. Rep. I am — practise what you preach. 1ST M. \_Aside.'] We are trump'd by the Yankee — maker of type writers and father of Morse. 2ND M. \_Aside.'] Think you of Morse the Passion- player ? 2ND M. \_Aside.'^ No; Morse the lightning-player. Monk. \_AIoiid.'\ And here you are Star-spangled ! Rep. I grant that to assume the American Standard is out of fashion in this locality. Monk. Would you have all men put on "Uncle Sam?" One in the Crowd. Take it away; it's too thin. Rep. Too thin to hide you.. Max. \_To Rep7\ "Saxo — es — et — super — hoc — ego." Rep. So are we by big Latin and more Greek — Pol- ished. And this is Georgia ! where woman blooms in her Edenic splendor. "Sot." \_ConfusedIy.\ And — man — too — in — his — sple- netic — endor. MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 63 Rep. Are the Georgians, then, too, disciples of Endor, the first "resurrectionist?" Monk. \^Whispenng to Rep.'] Heed not the alcohol; that does his talking He is John Bull; once a Greek professor and now top-man. "Sot." \_OTer/ieari?ig.'] I'e-totally. Monk. \_Aside.'] How the sad-sea-dog stammers now. Rep. {Extending hand to '' SotT] How are you, Bro' Bull ? I 've been reading your pell-mell " Gazette." John Bull's my top man. "Sot." {Stiittermgr\ Te-totally. St — steady! steady! Rep. [Aside.] Ah ! I fell dead in love — like " — a soldier. Full of strange oaths — Jealous in honor — " — with the blind man's guide at second sight ! She 's an ideal Southron — sunny Southerner ! One of the Crowd. Ho! let the professor "see." Max. Who are you, voice? One. One of the crowd. E pluribus unus. Max. Then step out of the crowd. 1ST Monk. {Aside.} Heloves to be badgered. {Aside.] "See" for us, Eoo-ist. 2ND M. Nepotist. 3RD M. Pontifex maximus. Max. Ah! ignoramus, that's my name. — I am going 64 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. to bridge the oceans — as rainbow overarches land and sea. 1ST M. You're a riddler. Get to work. Sprites. \_ On high, mvisihle^ si7iging.'\ Ah! I see; you think of one Who would us be giver Of Greek fire; One, thought's son, Troubled with the liver. "Sot" Hi'lo'! what's that? Polarized light? 1ST M. lAside.'] How Prof. Bull is "sot in his ways." He is a Hfe -sized reflection of Sitting Bull in his war-paint. 2ND M. [AsiWe.'] Bull sitting in his war-paint, [^/cw^/.] What 's that voice? Max. Ventriloquism! [Asit/e.'] They say that ideas come from the stomach. [Alo//^/.] The nineteenth cen- tury with its liver complaint? Afc7X and Witcha mount Platform. Max. \^To WitchaP^ Our platform is the work of good joiners. Monk. [71; Monk.'\ Mark the ascension of the quack. What is a quack? An embodied voice. Reporter pi'epares to take notes. Monk. [7^ 7?^/-] What are you after, Mr. Shorthand? Rep. {Bowing^^ After you, Mr. Monk. Notes to the words of seers. My name is Wizard. Monk. [Aside.] The wizen Wizard of the North. MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 65 One in Crowd. Ho! Pole star, are ye ready? Max. I am, pole-cat. \ Applause fnun the inob.'\ A?i organist in crowd holds itp monkey. Organ. What is this, seer? Max. \_Looki?ig a/oft.'] What is, is, spirit? WiTCHA. O spirit, what? Max. This is the ancestral Lemur; Dewy-eyed, poetic dreamer. Lines of thought upon his face All man's history do trace. [^Hurrahs on all sides.'\ One. You are the seeingest seer Ld ever see. Sprites. Sh'd all the sea be ink, love. The land mine inkstand be; Ld no' write all I think, love, Nor half the like — of thee ! Monk. \_Aside7\ An idea from an affected stomach. One. Who are these ventriloquists? Another. Dead-heads who come to the show free of charge; like the mummy on his way to the cabinet. Yet Another. \_.Pointing to his donkey.'] Lo ! eyes to the Wind, what's that? Max, You. [Cheers from the cro2vd.~\ \_Looking towards the sim.] Declare, O light. Witcha. O eye of day, make known. 66 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. Max. This is a Jerus'lem pony; Looks reflective, as a rule ; Heir of a vast patrimony. Sire of the dogmatic mule. \_Aj>pIaiise.'] Monk. \_To Monk7\ Well, he's a mystery. One in Crowd. I beheve he's inspired. Rep. \^Aside.^ I'll go up and hail the fair witch. [S/ie ai first discon7'ages his adTanc€7\ Rep. \^Aside.'\ Love's quarrels are love's re-unions. [ 21ie three converse?^ [Aside.~\ Looks like she'd tnp not Polonaise only, but German also. Monk. ^To MoiikT^ There's love by lightning express time ! I hope he will take a thro'-ticket. He evidently seeks the "compagnon de voyage." Spirits. \^Above^ singijig.'] The reporter marries the Indian, And all is well. The re-porter marries the in-Dian, And all is well. One. All are well. It's the dream of my Hfe to be the seer of a new world. Another. Now, seer, what is that? Max. a consummation devoutly to be wished. [ Three hands appear in heaven^ supporting an inverted an- chor^ as Wizard and Witcha co7ne forward hand in ha?id.'\ MAX, THE BLIND SEER. 67 One. The Iron Cross of Hope ! Voice. By this conquer. \_The people gather around in circle in s Hence. ~\ Max. {Advancifig^ the bandage removed, and pointing to the anchor, blessing the tzvo7\ By that image — One. "Which Jews might kiss and infidels adore — " Max. Children of my heart, I see you at last Out of many things one. Voice. " Now and forever." One. And that is home. Another. And home is God. Spirits. \^0n high, singing.'] This is our union, Future with hope rife; This is our communion: Many-sided life. Chorus Around. This is our union, Future with hope rife; This is our Communion : Many-sided life. \Exeunt. Note. — The following programme (printed, too, out in mid-sea, by means of the little apparatus generally used during the voyage to prepare the daily "Menus,") of quite "an impromptu affair" on the part of certain — very obliging, surely — performers, com- posers, writers, and players, (amateur and professional,) is added, 68 MAX, THE BLIND SEER. as being a report (now that one looks back to that charming soiree) of an episode of ocean-life. The mythical '' Z? a Times'^ is, of course, a pleasantry. About the only liberty I have taken with this "Menu" (and people are freer at sea, mostly, than elsewhere I) is the, no doubt, suiting one of not giving in full the names of the— ever-to-be-remembered — "personnel." — Rep, H. M. S. "B A" (Capt. H. M- ), A CONCERT Will be lield in the Saloon TO-NIGHT, WEDNESDAY, MAY 14, 1884. Concert to commence at 8-0. Chairman, E S— , Esq. PEOGRAMME. Address, The Chairman. Duet (Piano), "Faust," Mrs. T and Miss K B . Eecitation, Miss A. A. G — -. Pianoforte Solo, Miss O'M . Duet (Vocal), "Excelsior," Mr, E. de K and Mr. H B . Comic Song, Mr. E. E H . Song, Mr. E. de K . INTERVAL OF TEN MINUTES. Ranoforte Solo, "Scotch Airs," Miss A. G. A . Song, "Midshipmite," Mr. H B . Pianoforte Solo, Miss O'M . Song, "de Koven," Mr. E. de K . Recitation, "Aunt Tabitha," Miss A. A. G Comic Song, Mr. R. R H . Accompanist, Miss K. B . A "Collection " will be made during the Interval. For report of Concert see the • ■ B a Tivics " of Friday. Allone's Songs. BOOK 2. Ferdinand to Miranda. SWEET labor this, 'mid lowly pains, While on thy grace I muse ; Since only toil this guerdon gains, Toil let me not refuse ! For others in such dull routine I act the menial's part; Not in the light of lucre's sheen. But of thy love — thou art. For still my thoughts thy beauties trace, Long as these tasks I bear; Cheered by the vision of thy face, By truth reflected there ! My sovereign good in thee I find ; Thy presence is to know Light in the temple of my mind, Trust, in full rapture's glow ! While thus I teach earth's caliban To do thy father's hest; Hopes of thy self make me strong man, And swell work's gasping breast. 72 ALLONE S SONGS. Thou, bright Miranda, art the/r/^^/ Thanks, then, to fortune's storm, That leaves such radiance to my skies. Such rainbow, as thy form. Tobacco. THY clouds dispel all other clouds," Tobacco. When misery our life sky shrouds. And phantoms gather round in crowds. There's no nepenthe'' like the furl'd Leaf of the weed of the New World : Tobacco. A magical inventive thou, Tobacco. A tender smoother of the brow. Not like the opium" that now Entrances and then leaves in wo Confucian worse confounded : not so Tobacco. * "Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena Is of such power to stir iip such joy as this," — Milton. ^ Juice of the white poppy (Papaver somnif ernm. ) — Rep. ALLONE S SONGS. 73 Nor like to alcohol thou art, Tobacco. That fires and ashes makes the heart: Nay, nought such witchery can impart As this, the kind narcotic plan The Western Indes yield to man — Tobacco. The one that does not choose to smoke Tobacco, Is not a man I want to choke. A dame may whiff or snuft' may poke. I only mean to say, I '11 vote For you as long as Hfe's in throat, Tobacco ! — Tecum. Masson. WITH downcast eye the half-mute girl Moves thro' the busy place; The wavy tresses softly curl About her marble face. 'She is the whisperer," they tell, "From birth, till now alone: Can her sweet voice no higher swell Than the low undertone?" 74 ALLONES SONGS. And day by day as round about, She goes to humble task; The whisperer is pointed out, The stranger sure to ask. "So beautiful her countenance, So angel-like her mien, That no, not in this land of France Another such is seen." Alone she goes to vesper prayer, Oft as cathedral tower Its signal breaks upon the air At the accustomed hour. "She is the beauty of the town," The people ever say; And sure are you to gain a frown Who dare to tell them nay. The Giafifs Graved COME forth, genius of the west, In y'r olden armor drest; Cooper's Mountain, Rockingham, Va. ALLONE S SONGS. 75 Immemorial Keeper, rise, Shake the dream from off y'r eyes; Like an earthquake burst the ground Of y'r arch colossal mound ; You that lie in spellbound awe 'Neath the marble face of law, Rouse you, ancient mariner ! See the water, murmurer, Marches sparkling by y'r feet. Live as ever, clear and fleet. Solemn, vast sarcophagus, Can you ever hold him thus? While the trumpet-flowers'' bloom Blown** by nature o'er his tomb? While to Easter's call arise Myriad perfumes to the skies; Incense, as feels mother earth, Resurrection's glorious birth? While the sky-lark's anthems flow To the slumbering folk below; While all else doth rise again. Say, shall he himself remain Supine thus nor heed the life Round him, nor the botiyant strife? * Virginia Creeper. ^ Bloomed. 76 allone's songs. Hark, sweet echo, ghost of voice, Wakes about, and bids rejoice ; And a rainbow's dewy arc Curves along the cloud-land dark, Cloud-land scattered by the ray;— Hail, O rising lord of day. Piercing-eyed, transcendent one, Bountiful, immortal sun! Now from lofty Lover's Leap View I y'r commanding sleep; Titan of the New World, laid In the grave by angels made. And in rich Mosaic spread Grass and moss ^ and ferns y'r bed. Waving forest over all. Oak and pine, primeval pall; Ah ! my heart 's this Sabbath dawn (While the rifle spares the fawn. And Joy's giddy gliders pause Young Terpsichore's old cause,) Buried in your casket-bier Still bedewed by evening's tear ! Son of heaven, calm stretched forth. Face to the magnetic North, * Star-moss. ALLONES SONGS. 77 Looking toward the changeless dome Built for y'r eternal home ! Thus the sun's path shapes a cross Over you in sign of loss; Grave, as 7'eal sepulchre As at Stratford traveller Bows to, or that other fane Christians wept o'er, Moslems reign !^ Spirit of the spirits, hail; Truth you are and will prevail ! All about the western shrine Clustered o'er by clinging vine, How the children of the land Point to it with trembling hand, Scions of "Columbia," Rapt as Hinds in Syria, Fancy-fed at gloaming late, While the giant lies in state; With that faith the "wise ones" mock, *It has been argued that a giant is certainly buried in Cooper's Mountain, and that the ribs of quartz are his bones. "There were giants in those days," and as the world is thought to be al- most infinitely old (the size of the animate increasing in propor- tion as we go back), mathematically, at least, we soon come to a man great enough to fill the "Giant's Grave." — Rep. 7 8 allone's songs. Faith that Hves like mountain rock : Tell in deep religious dread Of the resting sea-king's bed : " On his grave by moonlight pale, Watched by spirits of the vale, Fairies dance (stars in disguise. By the moon led, circle-wise); And the Blue Ridge lies serene Background of the charmed scene." Lo, while far the village spire Points the worshipers yet higher; Now hope sees his perfect form Starting as hath died the Storm ; There he stands, the giant sight, Face reflecting heaven's light. — Sweetly blows spring's genial breeze Thro' the patriarchal trees Standing sentry o'er his naould : Tenderest lambkins of the fold, Nibbling peacefully, are seen Feeding on him 'mid the green; Tho' the bear yet shuffles round The uncultivated ground. Golden Rod, the magic wand Flora scepters o'er the land. Waves its shining length in sign ALLONE S SONGS. 79 That this grave we ne'er resign. And far milkmaid sends aloft As TtEoHan harp notes soft, Adding e'er, in voice of cheer, Tinkling rhymes, (that soothe the ear, Somewhat as a watcher's bell Can collect the wanderers well, Tongue of bell, that, chiming still. Answers oft the shepherd will; Or perhaps as echoing gong Calls the company along). — Thus a worshiper I am 'Mid your heights, wild Rockingham, With the incense of new prayer Wafted through this Grecian air So pellucid, so refined. Lending pinions to the mind; Lone with heaven's vaulted blue Softly bounding all the view. Let the churl that's "Moonshine's" slave Mock the idea of the grave;* ^"Moonshine" (illicit whiskey,) so called, is distilled secretly by moonlight. "The idea!" exclaimed the rude swain at the base of Cooper's Mountain ; he could see no sense in the new name which now almost universally obtains ; imagination had no charms for him, and thus his intelligence felt insulted, while to 60 ALLONE S SONGS. With loud oaths (the spirit's death): Drinking zest at every breath, I will, with yon child (whose eye Stole the azure of the sky,) Lost in rapture, bless this sod. And unearth a very god. Come forth, spirit! animus. Spirit of the life of Us; Our one, rise ! and lift the veil Passes e'er o'er death's face pnle. Hidden Man of Freedom's heart, Buried excellency, start To the race of faith and love ! Thine domestic, long-lived dove ! Lo, I see you ! by th' unsealed Book of nature now revealed. 'Tis enough; to stronger eyes Manifest the glad surprise In perfection; common wealth Of the future ; font of health. — " Lover's Leap ! " where love its arts Tries, the rostrum of y'r quartz others it is, in the words of the young hidy's exclamation, "an allone's songs. 8i Pulpit seems above the sea (Trembling leaves) now facing me : Each a countenance to fade Quite as fast as beauty, made No two"" like in all the glade. Ancient temple ! love the priest Is upon this Easter feast; Moss pall o'er the rich-dressed grave Yonder laid, beyond the Nave ! Angel birds make up the choir, Sun the censer swinging higher. To this waving wilderness, Priest, y'r oracles address. — Here the magic of the tongue, Game of world, whereon lives hung, Hath been played; here art each card. Joker, diamonds, hearts; sleights hard Hath essayed with guarded "hand" Thus the "fair" chance to command. In the name of love divine, — No such adoration mine ! *^In a recent mimber of the Fortniglitly Review, a lady writer tells us of a church in England where two Virginia Creepers are planted, and which is, therefore, popularly referred to as the place "where the jennies grow." — Hep. 82 allone's songs. No! I would not '' follow suit," Play the deuce, and knave to boot; But in name of God and men. Bid our genius rise again ! Hilltop Zoe. " The queen of the west, In her garlands drest, On the banks of the beautiful river. ZOE on the Hilltop hves, Ever blithe and chatty, Best of the restoratives, Flame of Cincinnati, Our Zoe — he must climb Who would see the best of time. Up above the din and smoke Of the business people Lives the sprite that we invoke. Over church and steeple. Hidden Zoe! — he must cHmb Who would see the best of time. Zoe Dearborn is a star Never found to vary. allone's songs. 83 How we saw her? Took the car Known as "Highland Mary." .Then to Zoe's— he must dimb Who would see the best of time. " Zoe is a quick thing." Truth. But as "cold as Chloe"* When, to "pump" her, fall the youth Dead in love with Zoe, Lofty Zoe ! — he must climb Who would see the best of time. Sailor's Plea. YE waiting angels, pray for me ! Not men, but fiends, o'er land and sea Watch for my hfe of life. About The hissing wave they spy me out. Satan's detectives dog my way. In cunning covert, night and day: Yet, One Divine, my hope on thee Is fixed forever.— Pray for me ! * We asked in vain for an explanation of this well-known pro- verb ; 60 we were compelled to fall back on our surmise that it is 84 allone's songs. The Water loo. (J. c, " Grove over the water. '^^^ \ TAR ill secretest recess i 1 In Netherland was wilderness; The highwoods locked their arms o'erhead And green was like a brussels spread : Beneath that green, concealed from eye, A treach'rous marsh did ever lie ; Who entered that gothic fane Did never more come out again. Allur'd by the regaling view, How oft into the water loo Did solitary huntsman go And sink — and vanish — where? None know. The husbandmen that dwelt around Whispered that it was haunted ground. And swore that jack-o'-lantern e'er Had victims'" by the myriad here. derived from the fact that Chloe and her folks are stated to h> ve been the "informers,'' so to say, of Paul; and we never knew that informers, of any sort, were— strictly popular characters. — Rep. '-" ' ' We are merely cheated of our lives. " — Shakespeare. ALLONE S SONGS. 85 I know not; I was never there, But somehow, Hke a quaint nightmare, The water loo at dead of night Arises often in my sight : I hear the fiends, that wassail keep When honest folk should be asleep; And calls o'erhead a voice too, "Take care, take care, of water loo!" Notes on '^ Psychological Physiology:' POOR man! the "diary" and love Torment him very fell ly. The "diary" within his heart And love within his b - y. The gripes and love are rabid si — ts; That tears the heart and this the g — ts. {By a German materialist.) The " Communists:' With an enthusiasm not too tonic They preach that men, being all one, be all-on'-^ic. 86 allone's songs. German Beer song. 1T7E need not tell what Tacitus V\ Writ on the old "Dutch" nation; But sure he was no blunderbuss, Nor spoke without foundation. We hope no brain is in a muss; Be tacit then on Tacitus; Himself who understands not us Must go to father Tacitus.* Old Tacitus is pretty clear About the former " Dutchmen :" But, brothers, let's be mute, just here — Are we now any such men ? To say we are, 'cause we love thus — But tacit be on Tacitus. Himself who understands not us Must go to father Tacitus. Monticello. r IKE him who died lone on the mountain-height Lv With God, the teacher sleeps in glory on ; *The testimony of this annalist, in the " Oermania''' to the beeriness of the ancient Germans is familiar enough. — Rep. allone's songs. 87 The second of the Twelve that round our One Stood at the focus of the fiery fight; High o'er the plain, far hid from vulgar sight, The master builder. He shall rise anon In spirit, and bid seers look upon The past (the mirror of the present), aright ! The Father, that was thorn-crowned with the bane Of slander, as was Socrates of old. Must rise as Chief Executive again. And in his hand the sacred Scroll forth hold Embodying the idea which amain The ages aye in history unfold. ON yestereve ashore from o'er the sea I lay down on that shore and haply dreamed From "gcean caves" I gathered gems, which beamed In mine own palm; and upon even me! — Poor sea-ill thing, where none but strangers be — Truth, in the form of the high Virgin seemed Poised in the air to smile. While the gems gleamed I woke, and ah ! from my grasp silently They melted into Nothing. Oft methinks Each truth whereafter one in deep mines delves, Each flight beyond (and outside our vain selves), Be but of hfe's dream now, and all my care 88 allone's songs. Into illusion and mere reverie sinks; And all one's labours vanish into air. T/ie Models Prayer. FATHER, — for father is thy name, That sums all up — from arts of shame Defend us, thine handmaids, this night : Brothers and sisters in thy sight Are all the children of the earth : Thy name be hallowed thus, from birth Till death, and thus thy power come, To watch the daughters of thy home. Our needed bread give us each day, Nor let our falling be the pay. Deliver us from tempters' art. And keep entire for thee our heart. Forgive us all, for thou art love. The same on earth as high above. Rome, 1884. Sailor's Riddle. I'M everybody, yet I'm nought; Your unit, yet a cipher thought; I'm everywhere, on land or sea. Yet where 's the eye that hath seen me? alt^one's songs. 89 The child of many fathers I, Have yet no genealogy; Tho' I am in my prime, I still Am just as old as any hill. Before you were, I am; the same As at the first except in name; I was in Adam ere he fell : Mine ear shall hear the race's knell. Sabbath Morn. SABBATH day; blessed morn; For the genius of love, Of man's sepulchre born, Hath ascended above : So the household God fair. That himself to us gave, Rose from earth into air; Angels opened the grave — Joy that fiends failed to slay; Our union, our peace; Our heart's ease ; the Day Of dark Flesh's release. A'pril 37'd) '76. 7 QO ALLONE S SONGS. To Macaulafs " Virginia^ UPON the rock the stabb'd Virginia Hes, A speechless sacrifice and witness thus Lest she be slave to an Arch-Claudius. The river, storming hard by, to the skies A groan, a murmur sends. How still doth rise The sacred incense, and recall to us A love-lorn form denied its obsequies. Deserted to the crows. Oh! tyrannous And damned usurpation, dark incest — Yet, commonplace and humble Saxi-frage, That I have found amid the masonry Beside the river, you're a fable blest, A parable divine, for this hard age. The truth shall grow, and shatter tyranny. Rome, 1884. Note. — In these days nearly every one is suspected of " talking behind his words," that gangrene of language. It has actually come to the pass where I live — Herculaneum, street of the Glad- iators — that none but the simple-minded say what they mean. Men shudder at one another like children at artificial ghosts. For "fear" any reader may fancy the above sonneteer (who thus but gallantly contributed his "mite," he said, towards allone's songs. 91 Jewish Song; for Day of Reconcilement. BY ABEL BENJESU. M Y spirit, That merit Nor beauty hath, Take, Lord my lamp on the dismal path ! To thee the forgiver Live she forever : Adonai echath. varying the monotony of sea-sickness, against which Allone started his concerts, partly,) to be "thief-slanging," we quote the following from a late number of a Keview, by way of illustrating how easy it is to turn everything (including ourselves) into fable, parable, myth, etc., — L e., to turn words "wrong side out." If our author above is obscure he would like to be considered then what he really is, an obscure man— and in fact it would seem that only such can afford not to be "obscure.'" Sham society is one of the chief causes of the abuse of words. He who tells truth is soon told to "tell that to the marines." " How easy it would be in a few cf nturies to turn Gen. Washing- ton into a solar myth ; Great Britain, a region of clouds and rain, into the kingdom of clouds and darkness. America, with more sunshine, is the day. Great Britain, as darkness, wishes to de- vour the young day, or dawn of light, which America is about to diffuse over the earth. But Washington, the solar hero, arrives. 92 allone's songs. Reclaimer, Proclaimer Of pardon too, Be, Lord, our guide to the long rest through. Through all, through that hour. We trust in thy power; Adonai Elohenu. Light's fountain, High mounting. That bids us hail. Thine, Lord ! shine thou on the shadow- vale. And sing we the chorus. When it is before us : Shema Israel ! Adieux ! A GODDESS was miladie Venice when. Eery with her coral scepter and her crown Of pearl, sea's president she far look'd down Upon the madcap waves her subjects then. He is from Virginia — i. e., born of a Virgin. He was born in February ; the sign of the aquarius and the fishes plainly re- ferred to the birth of the sun from the ocean." — North Ameri- can Review. — Bep. ALLONE S SONGS. 93 Her doges cynosures amid men ; Her smile so courted and so feared that frown As o'er blue ocean shone her bright renown And for her vied the pencil and the pen. Adieu, O virgin daughter of the breeze ! — A new sphere that her zenith knew not of Is rising west, and thitherward I go. Thy polity at Mary's feet sat, sees Itself in other form of truth apd love Ascended there, and spanned by promise' bow. — By a Folitian. Our Sphere. YOU that wonder at our Life Ask whereon 'tis resting ! "Yours, a world of song; of strife, Ours," you cry, contesting. Hark, and I will tell the fact Minus any mouthing, — Just y'r idea intact : Our truth rests on nothing. So you thought? Ha, ha; ye wise, Take this westering planet; 94 ALLONE S SONGS. What supports it as y'r eyes Scientific scan it? What doth bear it up in space, Does an Atlas save her? NOTHING under heaven's face : Pray, what can be braver ! So the truth is our sphere ; And doth need no turtle To bear witness, lest we fear When doubt's arrows hurtle. This earth needs no miracle. No maintaining wonder; With its own momentum full, What vile prop is under? Bolster heaven with a name. Truth sinks to each wrecker : Good shall be, that's raised on fame. Short-lived as an echo. No! our Life's of unseen path. As light's orbit doth; thing Self-poised, endless sides that hath, Sphere that moves on nothing, ALLONE S SONGS. 95 The Eas^le and the Python. * by a sailor, who perished sooa after, as have so many before him in this seductive search. — Hep, allone's songs. 109 To "know the ropes" of Uncle Sam's big craft Columbia; to play those strings skilfully; By "tacking" to make hostile winds to waft; To keep the Log-book of its History; How needful ever to look fore and aft ! To have, lest the Columbians ^^ mutiny, The "kind, Ufe-rendering politician'"' scoff d; And needful, above all, to look aloft." " We remember how the crew of Columbus rose. ''A former reading in "Hamlet;" to have omitted which in subsequent editions of the tragedy is but another illustration of the proverb, " The play of Hamlet with Hamlet left out." " Secretary (of the Navy) Spanlding once summed up our War of Independence in the following humorous parable : " One day when the Squire was even more than usually pressing in his de- mands, which he accompanied with threats, Jonathan started up in a furious passion and threw the tea-kettle at the old man's head. The choleric Bull was hereupon exceedingly enraged ; and after calling the poor lad an undutifu], ungrateful, rebelHous rascal, seized him by the collar and, forthwith, a furious scuffle ensued. This lasted a long time: for the Squire, tho' in years, was a capital boxer ; at last, however, Jonathan ' got him under,' and before he would let him up, made him sign a paper giving up all claim to the farms and acknowledging the fee simple to be in Jonathan forever ! " — Rep. tlO ALLONES SONGS. Jeremiacs. A Psalm of Dcg}'ecs, by a Jezv. LAZERS degrade the noble name of Mason.'' Oh ! what a bed of sand they set their base on ! Go work, ye stone-fac'd Hars; not a plinth Ere long remaineth of y'r Labyrinth : House of ill fame, of ''mystery," ye build With others' toil; its penetralia fill'd With charnel of the Virgins'' ye have slain. Their violated forms shall rise again And such a damning accusation tell That vainly ye for hiding Rock shall yell ! The Mystic Maiden Market," where fiends burke. Then torture, and then poison, is y'r "work": This Ganglion of Hell ye did create To be the Privy Chamber of our State ? Ho, watchman of heaven's Parthenon, arise And blast the recreants high as to the skies. Smiths, with y'r arms of steel, let lazers know. Up, rifle the curst tramps before they go. These men of "Letters" !'^ Watchmen, do not flinch Better by far the summary Judge Lynch Than see the daughters'' of the workman thrust ''Author of *■'■ Bill of Rights.'" ^ I. e., Commonwealths. '^ Molly Maguire strike. ^ ** Let or hindrance." ALLONE'S songs. Ill By panders into arms of Moloch lust. — Hear, hear, ye laborers ! Drive to the hilt The Sword of justice in these men of Gilt. Smash into chips the Idols of the Den'' Where lodge rank monsters in the garb of men. There in the centre as "His Worship" known God Nero redivivus on a throne ! — O Daughter'" of the People, rise; be shown! To John Smith. Air : " Ha ha lia, you aud me," etc. SMITH ! since it's a common name Is it proper? All the same, Then, I'll sing to one John smith. Or if better to John's myth; For I wot that legally "John Smith" meaneth nobody! Hail ! John Smith, of many One, Greater then than Washington; Common Man; of whose great Form We're but shadows; general Norm, "See Bacon, ''Novum Organum.''' ^' A hebraism. ii2 ALLONES SONGS. Thou immortal one; Smiths die, But John Smith's the same stand-by Deathless as the Wandering Jew- — O John Smith, don't I love you ! Men may into smithers go ; But John Smith is always so. Ay, we're Smithers of John Smith; We're the leaves and he's the pith. Since the Greek for "smith" is "type," Call him Mr. Tupos. Ripe With old age, or else, "bad" we Drop like windfalls from this Tree. He's the Tide of which we're waves; He's the Fate of which we're slaves. Captain of the Craft of Hfe ; Aye, with savage waves at strife. Smith, thou workman ! Striker, strong On toil's Anvil; thou'rt the song Of the ages; Auld Lang Syne Is his history — yours and mine. Man ! thou art incarnate well In him of whom histories tell. Smith the saved by Love ! And ah ! There thy font, Matoaca, Hard by Appomattox Hes; Holds a mirror to our skies ! allone's songs. 113 Landlord'' s Lass. Two huntsmen were coursing the Virgin State, And stopped at a tavern one May-day late. "Ho, host ! we be sportsmen; we would come in. And drink to the song of yV dafterlin." "Good cheer to ye twain ; but my little lass'' The hope of my house, o'er the Stream did pass "As the sun went yestre'en behind yon hill Of old Appomattox, and left all chill." "I've brought for her temples a chaplet rare," Wept Southron, "from heights far up in air." "Sweet ladykin ! life itself ! where she's lain, Immortelles, of my faith that she'll rise again, "Let me strew," mourned the younger; "but tell us, pray, Uncle Sam, how the angel passed away." "Alas! 'twas the stray shot of some hand hid; But the one who sped it knew not what he did." '"^ Her name was Lilian, "airy fairy Lilian." 1I4 ALLONE^S SONGS. ''O God!" cried Southron, "I worshiped her, And now have I been her murderer?" "Nay. nay," said the rival. "But now, good man. We'll comfort and serve you as best we can. "She that sang us 'The Light of other Days,' Shall be with us forever, in prayer and in praise." A?i Item. YE Natural Historians, behold ! To show the power of a little thing. Why, a potato murrain hath of old In Britain spread such fearful suffering Its consequences never shall be told. Thus the mysterious all-influencing Taint, sickness, of a single root hath hurled Hosts down — and changed the History of the world. Fi'oni U Israeli. Ideal Beau. A LORD of lilies; A rosewater imp; About the fair sillies A courtseying primp. allone's songs. tl$ Art itself; honey tongue; Flattering ; Grace ; god of the young ; "Just the thing." From mid-eve to dawn To dance like a faun; In the language of flowers, And compliment's showers; A furbelow fop. Keeping fashion's best hours; Of the market the top. With his poor tortured toes, At each faux-pas so shocked: "I" has seen all; and knows Quite what folks do — concoct. . Makes the eye of belle swim. With the "german" in him Altogether divine. As he "steps" to impart The Professor's "high art" In soft patents that shine. Of the "party" the idol; In crush-rooms to sidle; All "ah ah" and "oh"; The Idea of a beau. ii6 allone's songs. A Girl's Heart BY ECHO. 1L0VE a revery 'mid sprays in bloom; I love the meadows and their soft perfume; The sky-blue rills, the virgin mountain air; The rural dell for calm and freshness there. Rapturing object tho' of all Is he who holds my soul in thrall ; Nothing can fascinate me view And mind, True-love, like you, like you. I love the pealing nightingale's glad wake; I love at eve the sighing osier brake; The psalm of praise and prayer when work is mute The wave's sad rote; the concord of the lute. (Burden as above.) I love the arts their charm miraculous; I love the victories of genius : The precious glory of my land in song — And song religion is — and arms aye strong. Pride mantles in my cheek at name Of each that adds unto her fame; But that which fascinates me view And soul, True-love, is you, is you ! allone's songs. 117 The dealing. LIGHTLY the wavelets, now the blast is done, Curve into spray and shimmer into sun. Archly we clear the old main for the new, And misty distance hides the shore from view. I'he stern Propeller (staunch idea !) plies Its fabulous might— Buried albeit from eyes; Its outward token tho' the seething brine, And stars phosphoric in the wake that shine. The bulging wings of canvas stoutly fills The ocean's breath, that with new life us thrills. In background far each scintillating light Of warning beacon slowly dies from sight : And in the offing — come on duty soon ! — Westers in lead the star-attended moon. The hope-rich emigrant, resigned at last. The parting pang, the final fond view, passed, Turns with tear-dimmed eye to th' expanse ahead That heaves Titanically in its bed. High on the Bridge our silent Captain stands (A telescope the eye's eye) and commands The busy crew, none drone, the kiss of home yet warm Upon the lips, which sing the toil to charm. Piercing the gusts that whistle amid shroud, "All Right!" the top-man shrilly calls aloud. ii8 allone's songs. Maiden's Adventure. I'LL rest here awhile at the crossing, With my gun and horse and dog, Till the boatman come; and be tossing Cigar rings up in the fog. As he pulls thro' the mist dimly yonder. Drawing calmly his red powhatan; On Indian days I ponder, And legends about the White Man. I turn and amid the hills olden, I>ooking down on the new iron track, Stands Maiden's Adventure rock golden In sunset; and figures come back. The girl"" of the Pale Face, that brightened A moment ago at love's word, Starts, clings to her hero, and frightened. Cries, "Powhatan's men — we are heard!" Then ominous Shapes, each with quiver Of poison darts, passionate dash ''This is said to represent "the Virginia Dare of history. ALLONES SONGS. II9 Upon them; they leap; to the river Man and woman rush; plash after plash. Where are they? I know not. Poor creatures, Heaven help them. So has struck Me the unfinished story, my features Grow dark- — Boatman, I've had such luck. A Yar?t. A GRAN DAM sat in sweet repose, A-knitting socks for some pet. When oh ! a fly flew up her nose. And made her thump and thump it; "Dear fly!" she cried, "you are a pest My poor old nose is no fly-nest, But an old bass trumpet ! " TO-DAY I look upon the wide, wide Sea Of life and each man a wave seems to be, A wandering foaming ripple on a Tide Whose secret Undertows rule all, beside. Caught on the snags or broken by the Blast, Each watery Crest to naught must come at last : 120 ALLONES SONGS. The form of air and water disappears In ocean that's made up of briny tears — Vainly ours add then to that Wilderness Whose smii no mortal can make more or less. What billow yon that seemeth mountain-high And looks as tho' it scales the very Sky? 'Tis that illusion greatness — highest crest When measured is but a low thing at best. Each alike lost in the Unknown Profound Whose depth not Time himself can ever sound. Danced on a flood-tide by a hey-day gale The bubble " I " will over fate prevail ! On, on it glitters, rushing to be first, And gains the summit just in time— to burst. So the old Element careereth , Its flood our life is and its ebb is Death. Humanity its "periods" hath; presides Infinite ^arttti=e^ Nature like the Moon o'er tides. The bloody courses of her heat and strife Only the aye-repeating laws of life. Tho' bigger bubbles swallow up the small. Soon the God Neptune must absorb them all. Ah ! when the Deep unfolds its mysteries. That Deep which has no was^ to which all /x. How the last man Man's vanity will curse ! A mote, an atom of the Universe, ALLONE S SONGS. 121 The plaything of the Passions- — poor weak Bark — Chases his jack-o'-lantern Hopes till spark And chaser vanish in the Dark. Deep dark ! We soon loose one another in the chase. So wave to wave, and tide to tide, gives place. London. — Anon. Miserere. BY EOT CLERESTORY. HEAVEN, home of perfect light, Hear our miserere; For our sons of care and blight ; For the fainting in the Fight; For the longing and the lone; For the anguish ne'er made known; For the hope that toils in vain ; For the prayer of speechless pain, Hear our miserere. Heaven, home of perfect love. Hear our miserere; For the sin we're dying of; For the lost domestic Dove; For the dark ingratitude; For the melancholy mood; 122 ALLONES SONGS. For our faithless, fatal loss Of the power of Freedom's cross, Hear our miserere. Heaven, home of perfect rest, Hear our miserere; For the thorn in duty's breast; P'or the cursed and weariest; For the city of our heart; For her burning tears that start; For the tale of all her woe ; In the Raven's'' shadow, oh ! Hear our miserere ! Cakpentees' Hall. \_Scrc)iadc.'] Triangle Player. TINGLE, tingle, tingle, In the icy air of night, With a rirne to aid the jingle. Goes a Gypsy maid in white; Seems each star that silver-spangles Poe's ^'Eaver.' ALLONE S SONGS. 1 23 Sky to echo the triangle's Tingle, tingle, tingle, As it falls upon the ear With a sound so chill and drear; Tingle, tingle, tingle. Tingle, tingle, tingle. Tingle, tingle, tingle, As the polished rod of steel Strikes, anon with it do mingle Notes that, like a spirit's, peal From her lips — hark, as it dangles From the circle, the triangle's Tingle, tingle, tingle. And her fairy fingers hold By that circle made of gold; Tingle, tingle, tingle. Tingle, tingle, tingle. Tingle, tingle, tingle; " Ears that would my story hear ! None among you, not a single. But will have a cause for fear. If I tell of the dark wrangles. Keeping time with my triangle's Tingle, tingle, tingle; 124 ALLONES SONGS. • One is tempted so to love Secrets One hath been born of; Tingle, tingle, tingle, Tingle, tingle, tingle. "Tingle, tingle, tingle; There is an imposing tale; ' Spirits ' and the nether ingle ! Truth's eno', she will prevail." Scarce a time her own speech jangles With the clinking, chilled triangle's Tingle, tingle, tingle ; For her tongue, such things to sing. Has a cold metallic ring : Tingle, tingle, tingle, Tingle, tingle, tingle. Tingle, tingle, tingle; "'Tis a stranger record far • Than the cypher of Chris Kingle ; Do the words y'r judgment mar, As I hint of masks and mangles, 'Companied by the triangle's Tingle, tingle, tingle ?, Words their own corrective make allone's songs. 125 That their other meaning take." Tingle, tingle, tingle, Tingle, tingle, tingle. Tingle, tingle, tingle; So a Romany she goes Thro' the wee sma' hours ; from shingle Cat o' Nile a shadow throws. Who the history disentangles From the chain of her triangle's Tingle, tingle, tingle? Soon ! or ere that moonbeam Eye Vanish as the watch comes by. — Tingle, tingle, tingle. Tingle, tingle, tingle. — By Echo. A Note. What 's truth?" The real State of things. " Life, pray?" The sum of Forces that resist decay. The Riddle of the Sphinx. THERE came another CF>dipus; ere long He thrilled the orb with trumpet tones of Song. The Sphinx of Albion said, "Solve me who can." 126 allone's songs. That GLdipns then answered, "It is man; Humanity thy secret, Spirit, is ;" And bade the Sphinx give up its mysteries. That Qj^dipus is what Form ? Far unfurled To his seer's-eye the scenes of a New World. That Sphinx, that Man in Iron Mask, is who. That rises now transfigured in earth's view?"" '' Dei Me Nim Katheudein!' [I must sleep now.] —Byron's last words. 1MUST sleep now— it is time; God-forsaken in this clime Of my heart — devoted Greece ! Let me rest; I must have peace. Dei me nun katheudein — go Draw the curtain; leave me so. ''Note. — As "Uucle Sam" seems to be here alluded to, I may remark, by the way, that some Fanatics in the States, having found the grave of the original "Uncle Sam," the Provider, are verily proposing to claim that it, in reality, is the holy sepul- chre of that "Uncle Sam" who is the incarnation of the States! They are said actually to believe that this latter "Uncle Sam'" is the real man, while the Revolutiooary commissary was only a sort of foreshadowing him. This may be said to be Platonism run crazy. — Hep. ALLONE S SONGS. 1 27 I must sleep — shut out the glare; Tell the soldiers how I fare, In the fever how I thirst — Shall my breast with longing burst? Dei me nun katheudein — go Close the curtain; leave me so. Too much light; I would be laid Now in the subduing shade ; Thus the hounded stag^ at bay Tries the Ocean's trackless way. Dei me nun katheudein — go Draw the veil; then leave me so. Tuton. Ol^HERS shall tell his perfect story, And clearly show the nameless glory; 'Tis ours in outline faint to give The living picture's negative. We that, the toilers of the Sea, Were present at his cross, can (we ^^ Note. — "I . . . settled myself by the waves of the Adriatic, like the stag at bay, who betakes him to the waters. "—ZeWers of lord B. -Rep. 125 ALLONE S SONGS. Impassioned) with classic grace The splendors of his person trace? Let others show, with love's best powers, His precious life bound up in ours; Born of his sorrow to new day, We cannot tell the doleful Fray. His risen Excellency then In deed shall be the joy of men; His speechless love a saving theme To wake us from each sordid dream. Thine unreported Truth of truth, Thy pitying care — thou son of ruth ! — Shall be revealed to every eye In History that cannot die. Alone while in that dismal marsh The crooning bittern peals his harsh And envious tones, methinks arise New psalms of praise, up to the skies. — By Alinna. Note. — We're n3t aware that Taton is otherwise a family-name in America ; but in Slater's Directory, it happened to be crossed not long ago by a friend of ours, in the Reading Room of the British Museum ; it was the address of one, John Tuton, baker, of Ayr— surely the region in which the ill-starred Burns lived " Whyles dazed wi' love, wliyles dazed wi' driuk," , as his letter to a brother tells us with Highland openness. On ALLONES SONGS. 1 29 To Tacita. FAIR Roman, be this maiden visit aye The type and the ideal one to me Of each to come. Arch virgin, I thank thee At this, my introduction, for the way That thou hast pointed out as clear as day To higher spheres. Oh ! it is to be free From vulgar I'hought; to know, to come and see Thyself; thy artlessness, that cannot stay Hidden from e'en craft's eye. Nay, the conceit Of art is foreign to thy glorious truth, Thy simple truth — that is the mightiest bond* Of all. The deities that in thee meet With holy union crowned by heavenly youth. Make One to whom love's seraphs must respond. Ihe contrary, the surname Allone is quite well-known, particularly in the form Allon — (that is, by-the-by, the pronuuciation of our top-man's cognomen,) of which the former is merely an older spelling. A wag aboard ship once went up to Hugh, and told him that the Allones were mentioned in Shakespeare ; for in one of the plays a king cries out, "Allons! Aliens!" See also Gen. xxxv. 8. In fact, however, a French name Allonne is found. Why may n't the Allone family have been descended of Huguenots, that fled from religious slavery ? — Rey. •^ "Hoc maximum viaculum .... hos connubiales Deos arbi- trantur. " — Ger mania. 130 allone's songs. Hills of Carroll. \ ZURE hills of Carroll, iJL Mingling with the sky, As you while I wander Seem forever nigh, So my Love tho' far away 'Mid your steeps makes near to-day Hope, sweet hope — Azure hills of Carroll, Mingling with the sky. Azure hills of Carroll, Like the troubled stream I have lone been crossing. Narrower did seem When I started than when passed : But hope wins y'r heights at last, Hope, sweet hope — Azure hills of Carroll, Minghng with the sky. Azure hills of Carroll, Long thro' thorn and dark To'rds you I have travelled; Oft have paused to hark ALLONES SONGS. 131 Echoes, to my hope, of strains Frcfrn that Love down o'er the plains; Hope, sweet hope — Azure heights of Carroll, Mingling with the sky. Azure hills of Carroll, Y'r eternal brow Sentry to the lowlands As at first keeps now : Guard her well and may the air Wing to her home my last prayer — Hope, sweet hope — Azure hills of Carroll, Mingling with the sky. — By Fowh. Gle?i. Lilith. WHEN the airy wandering Lilith Thro' the evening shadows stealeth. Hist ! she whispers in the ear Of a stranger saunterer near; And she breathes what seems a blush . On a maid's cheek — fated flush ! Ah ! a pestilence her breath, 132 ALLONES SONGS. And her hissing whisper, Death. Thro' the throng she gHdes unseen, Spectre pale of aspen mien : With her finger everywhere Writes a circle in the air. For a spell; in full moon's splendor, Gliding shade of hag of Endor ! Risen from the grave in Jewry— So 'tis told — with smothered fury To regain her hoary kingdom, Sorcery's Saviour and De- fender ! Ay, her serfs believe she '11 save, And e'en lift them from the grave; Hail the foul spook holy spirit. And her sealed Scroll inherit; And the lethal exhalation She breathes is their inspiration. On she passes like a gust, Fevered, lonely, crisp as dust; With a smile of gall; her spoils They she gathers in her toils' Veiled Lie; a shrouded chill illusion; Orient spirit of confusion ; , On she passes; mystery; In the steps of Wandering Jew; Shadow of his history; 133 Sprite half hidden, half in view; Sight each asks if it be true. On ! until her throne she 's got On the DERVISH Witches' Plot : There to sway 'mid night and storm; Till the rosy morning form Of the beauty of the North, Household goddess, shineth forth ! Yon of ghosty poison eyes, And the snaky dark locks, dies — For then Doom the lair revealeth Of the luring, lissome Lilith. Echo Debutante. NOW let me introduce to-night Our little daughter Echo hight, Who is our very life in truth; Such fountain is her maiden youth. She is our book; for her we live. To her our care and joy we give; Our darling love, a father's pride And mother's hope, heav'n with her bide ! So out upon the world's dark wild She goes that is our bosom child; 134 allone's songs. Her song be good like milk of love; And well of charms her music prove. Your Echo, then. Responsive chords Y'r heart-strings be unto her words. May the tyrannic life on shore Flee like a ghost and be no more ! — By Miima. Thomas Jefferson. FATHER, from the Eternal City fain, Where 'mid Power's ruins the weird Image'' flies And lusciously beneath these gracious skies The Rose upon the Palatine doth reign, Fain w'd I bring to the New World's domain, And lay it at thy feet a Laurel, prize And chaplet for the height where thy dust lies; An offering to thy sacred Manes." Lain High o'er the vale while hissing icy blast Doth haunt thee like the ghost of tyrant past, '■'"Imago" was a term in common use for "echo"; also, "imago vocis," "imago verbi"; ^. e., the "likeness of the voice." ^Mr. Jefferson in prefacing what he desired to be -his epi- taph uses the expression, " my manes." allone's songs. 135 Yet art thou placed upon the New World's throne, Her people's Chair of State. Thy spirit there Is seated firmly as thy Mountain fair Rests on God's masonry of changeless stone. KoME, 1884. On an ancient, humble tombstone at Kome I found this inscrip- tion: Dis Manibus Sacris Pe^sidi . . . i. e., " To THE Divine Spirits President." We still speak of the " good spirits " of a person ; in a higher, tho' grammatically identical, sense the old Romans seem to have spoken of a soul after death as ' ' sacred spirits :" somewhat as we may now refer to the "holy angel spirits " of our dead. Generally, however, the " D. M. S." meant that the memorial in question was sacred, in the fir&t place, to the collective body of the Angels of the Afterworld ; indeed " To unknown divinity " — that goes to constitute what is divine in history. Certainly we may use the expression "dis manibus sacris" of those who "Still rule Our spirits." — Hep. 136 allone's songs. When the Rude Nor' wester. IT THEN the rude nor' wester blows VV And the offing fills with snows, And the high sea insolent Cometh combing o'er our craft, Leaping, hissing fore and aft. Like as by Sea Serpent sent; Then thine image, priceless wife, Comes from o'er the waters' strife. From our hearts' Hearth-fire, and quaff'd Is the spring of peace again ; And I hark to the loud main As tho' Bairnies crow'd and laugh'd ! — By Jack Bunting. " K'r Uncle Sam.' 1AM a poor and humble citizen ; A quiet neighbor that loves the free air And open field and prays but to enjoy The breath of life in peace. Then let me be And go contented thro' my vale of toil. Bequeathing to my own the blessed name Of laborer worthy of his pay. My home, ALLONES SONGS. I37 Where climbs the honey-suckle in the sun And Robin redbreast bubbles out with song, My heaven is, and I would not exchange it. No, not a moment think to, for the world. — By one who has seen him. The Patrolman. '^IS icy, glum, and breakers sweep 1 The white dunes as doth sentry keep The lone patrolman eagle-eyed 1 o scan the offing far and wide, Lest laboring craft or Godsend'' sight No sign of Myth,^ no hope, the night. Full quick his ear to hark the sound Of slatting sail 'mid tempest round; Or if gales bear hard down in dark * ''Godsend" is originally a sea- word and signifies "what God — or the gods — have sent ashore," e. g., goods of craft, driven to land. Cf. the thoroughl}' Gothic way in which the English still describe the unavoidable at sea as "act of God." ^' Smyth, "Sailors Word-book," defines this nautical term "anything for directing the course by sight." Probably best spelled "mith." 10 138 allone's songs. Into the Locker'' some reft bark As, naked to the Fiend, she cries For help unto the dismal skies. Out o'er the hissing blackness there, Of German'' rocket's ruddy glare The rays thro' treacherous fog are shot From bleak Cape Fear that pitieth not. The lost are found ! the Servant sent Is savior ° Hope's embodyment. ** "Davy Jones's Locker ; " L c. , the ocean as the place where dead bodies were thrown and wrecks lost (as if in at everlasting '"locker" or chest). How "Davy Jones" ever came to mean Death or the Devil in general is illustrated in the fact that it used to be a common form of concluding a rustic prayer to say, "And save our bones From Davy Jones. Amen." ^ The so-named "German rocket" is frequently mentioned by the reporters of the U. S. Life-saving Service as one of the appli- ances of the Surfmen. •^^ ''Their saviours." — Eeport L. S. S, Note. — A glance at any Vocabulary of "sailor lingo," is suffi- cient to shew that mariners employ, what is to us landsmen, a complete foreign language. Who of the uninitiated could guess the sea-meaning of, e. g., "cant," "dogged," "ship's body,'' "bitter end," "double Dutch ?"— to say nothing of such rather paore obvious terms as "dead rising," etc. Allone's Songs. BOOK 3. ITy7nn To Silence. COME, holy Virgin, Silence born Upon the banks of Nile In Time's grey morn; That on commanding height of steep Calm Ida too did vigil keep ; Almighty maiden, pure and lone. Encircled by the imtoucht zone, And veiled the while; A pensive pilgrim; come, fulfil Thy mission; whisper, '-Peace, be still." Celestial stranger, from your path Creep cowed away The serpent passions; gnashing Wrath, And Envy hissing aye; And in y'r mild sight spring apace Lilies of virtue, that in grace Bow at your feet. Their queen to greet; And the soft air is freed from breath Of the cold secret Death. 142 ALLONE S SONGS. In raiment light, That cunning hands in sacred Grove Upon the side of Ganges wove, Thrice blessed Mute ; minion of Night, With heaven-directed sight, And noiseless step o'er hoary moss; Lady that hast Thy arms upon calm breast held fast In a firm Cross; Hail, who descended erst, that Flesh Might learn of Thee and live afresh. Lines Suggested by a picture representing T/ieodoric,^ king of the Goths, in his character of Ro))ian Emperor. '''PIS done, the Goth is on the throne 1 Of Babylon, and rules alone. The haughty Rome must bend the knee, Arch President, at last to thee, " *'The four first letters of bis name \SFA) S\ were inscribed on a gold plate, and wben it was fixed on tbe paper, tbe king drew bis pen tbroiigb tbe intervals." — Gibbon. 'Theodoric' is tbe exact gotbic equivalent of 'democracy' {i. e., 'rule of tbe people' — objectively and subjectively.)— i?