$ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. $ | wijii f o - # — UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. J POEMS. BY WILLIAM J. ALLINSON. A few expiring embers on the hearth, Witli gleams of vital gladness once aglow, Reminders of the genial long ago! While Faith, serenely blest, transcending mirth, Opens to view a cheering horoscope : Memory, give place! Hope is much more than hope. / r /" PHILADELPHIA: ^ CLAXTON, REMShN, AND HAI FELF1NGLR. 1873- ■ A 92 Entered according Co the Acl of Congress, in the year i S73, by W M . J . A LLINSON, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress. All rights reserved. i iM 1 IN:., l'KIN I I K. ERRATA. 3d line, page [93, for "assured" read** assumed." Page 208, for the title "To .Anne" read "To Anna." " 200, 3d line from bottom of page, read, "The robe "i the Sinless be meekly worn." " 266, (»ili line from top, for** Irregular Fragments," read " In. ",iil. 11 I' 1 agment." T'b )oz 2.S 30 38 •I' 5° 5« 54 59 6i 66 70 74 76 V) «S2 86 CONTENTS Wise unto Salvation . Flushing Oaks To J. J. G., ON HIS DEPARTURE FROM AMERICA One Baptism Written in Boyhood . The Rose of Abbottsford To Georgiana Favor and Beauty John Gummere Joseph John Gurney . The Troubled Host On the Death of M. E. S. On the Same To a Guest at Oxmead Suggested Termination for Thanatopsis " Our Alfred" Coercion Boat Song . To a Literary Circle . To a Similar Coterie . John Woolman A Sick Bard and his Visitors Hope . . . CONTENTS. Vll To one Crippled from Infancy . Meteorological ..... Birthday Ode ..... Moving before the Body To with a White Rose and Bud Spiritual Sight and Hearing To a Pilgrim One Year Old Three Years Old Eighty-Six . E. P. G. The Anointed Lock Dear Child, she will be left Fatherless and Motherless Victorious over Death To a Sister Cousin on her Departl London .... The Telltale Face Convolvulus. Morning-glory . To Anna Dedication for an Album . To L. G. on her "Passing Meeting Sun-Draughts .... PAGE 165 169 173 176 182 183 I84 185 187 I89 191 192 I96 199 200 204 207 208 2IO 212 213 Vlll CONTENTS Luminous Seed Double Rainbows That Fire-fly A Fragment To M. S. H. To E. H. S. To a beloved Relative Upon the Death of an only Sister To my Brother To my Mother To Mary Allinson To J. and H. Bean To Capt. John M. Whitall On the Marriage of H. L. To Jesse Haines . To a Friend on his arriving at i Manhood . Anna W. Hinchman Solicitude . The Silver Hair . To M. . Irregular Fragment Undying Friendship The Highway of the Upright . W\u font Jiutlt Unnfa'A Sicw. Isaiah xiv. 32. T)RAY for the peace of Jerusalem with thy feet -*- her gates within, And thy back to those who deceive her tribes with Jeroboam's sin : A city with holiness walled about, and builded com- pact together, Whose gates are praise, and the tribes of the Lord with praises go up thither. And there are the thrones of judgment set — the thrones of the House of David ; And thither are clustering constantly all such as shall be saved. Oh seek her good for the sake of Him whose ancient wing spreads over — IO THE LORD HATH FOUNDED ZION. And for thy companions' sake who dwell beneath the sheltering cover. Tho' grievous wolves not sparing the flock prowl eagerly to devour, Waves dash against the immutable Rock, and clouds portentous lower, Pray for the peace of Jerusalem, as did the imperial Psalmist — That the darkest hour without her walls, within them may prove the calmest. There's a sure defender, and none can pluck from His holy unconquered hand. He knoweth His sheep, and will keep His own — a faithful confiding band ; The true foundation, tho' storms may beat, unshaken remains forever, And the source and centre of fadeless light — the clouds shall darken it never ! Pray for the peace of Jerusalem — "the mother of us all"— The deed that darkened the solar light was done without her wall ! THE LORD HATH FOUNDED ZION. II And He who ascended up on high, and who giveth gifts to men Shall take His stand upon Zion's mount in Jerusalem again. And He calleth now His flock by name, and He hath not yet forsaken The "garden inclosed" He loveth well and into His care hath taken. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem — tho' the days may seem adverse ; Tho' men may arise as Paul foretold,* and uttering things perverse, Draw many disciples away with them — tho' the watchmen that go about, f The very keepers upon her walls, may have wounded her as they smote. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem — that, upon her be- loved leaning, Forth from the wilderness she may come, no blemish her white robe staining. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem ! aye, call her the spouse, the bride, * Acts xx. 30. -j- Song of Solomon v. 1. 12 THE LORD HATH FOUNDED ZION. A garden of fountains where living waters and streams from Lebanon glide ; And the perfume of spices floateth upon the south wind and the north, And praises in fragrant incense pour from all her palaces forth. Pray for a place in Jerusalem, that, with garments as white as hers, Thou mayst ride in the cedar chariot — thou mayst join with her choristers — Thou mayst tread with the flock of the faithful as the heavenly Shepherd leadeth To the green and glorious pastures where the arbor vitas spreadeth ! With a hope both sure and steadfast, and based on a Saviour's merit, With an ear that attentive heedeth the monitions of His spirit, On the earth a stranger pilgrim — a sojourner in the land— Crave "in thy lot," like Daniel, at the end of days to stand. A NATIONAL TEMPERANCE ODE. §1 gtotwwtl Wtnx\mm\a ©*U. " Content in Guilt's profound abyss to drop, Nor, struggling, send one bubble to the top." Persius, Sat. IV. /COLUMBIA, hail! dear native land! ^-^ Home of the mighty, brave, and free; Freedom has waved her magic wand And Heaven has smiled on thee. The nations view thee from afar, And though — the glorious scene to mar — Slavery has cast a fadeless stain, Scarcely they hear the clanking chain ; They see the mid-day solar blaze, An empire basking in its rays ; With envious sighs those beams they see, Thy golden sunlight, Liberty. But though that sunlight warmly beams, And all a paradise it seems; 2* 14 A NATIONAL T E M V E RANGE ODF. Though the "Star-spangled Banner" waves In every port old Neptune hues. Still the fair goddess droops her head And radiant drops her eyelids shed; Her chosen land is doom'd to know Scenes of unutterable woe, Keener than Tyranny's worst sting, Deeper than Thraldom's self can bring- Worse than the clanking, galling chain, To those whose hopes and groans are vain. Where'er the goddess wings her flight, A hideous demon mocks her sight, Stalking across her fair dominion With hell's chill night-dews on her pinion ; With stealthy art, and dire control, To paralyze the yielding soul; To blast each heavenly born desire, And light instead her quenchless fire. A deeper muse than war, we weep ; A deadlier, more resistless sweep; More varied are the pangs of death, More anguish marks the parting breath, Than when the cannon loudly roar And sabres Hash from shore to shore. A NATIONAL T E M P E R AN CE on E . r 5 Each year that passes swiftly by Three times ten thousand victims die By this enchantress 1 withering spell, Ruined for aye — like dogs they fell ! And who were these? Did Fortune frown Incubus-like to bear them down? Did Infamy degrade their birth, And brand them outcasts on the earth? Or did not Heaven to them dispense The boon of high intelligence? A manly mind to combat still, With sense to choose 'twixt good and ill? Did Fate, with her malignant eye, Mark them for evil destiny? NO! — These were formed for noble end, For all of good that Heaven can send; Sons of the mighty and the free, And for their birthright LIBERTY; And privileged to run the race- Where all are equal in the chase, Where glory is the patriot's prize, And none is born too low to rise. l6 A NATIONAL TEMPERANCE ODE. 'Twas their high boon to draw their breath, Freedom's benignant star beneath, And yet they fell — with heaven around — Standing on Freedom's vantage ground ; The cruel Circe's cup they tasted, And all their energies were blasted. They fell — and at this moment still Ten times their number drink their fill : Fearless they quaff her venom' d bowl, Although its waters quench the soul. While tottering to a shameless tomb The ills of life alone delight them, Regardless of the blissful doom To which both heaven and earth invite them. Like Satan, banished from on high, "Evil, be thou my good,'* they cry. But who the foe that conquers here? And who the demon that can dare, Where all unstained her banners wave, Columbia's dauntless sons to brave? And will their brethren idly look, And will the people tamely brook, A NATIONAL TEMPERANCE ODE. I 7 To see their thousands yearly dying, Hundreds of thousands prostrate lying, Robbed of the noblest attribute That elevates the man from brute, Measuring their length upon the ground, Sunk — lost — in Guilt's abyss profound? Hundreds of thousands doomed to know The pangs of sickness, crime, and woe ; Loathed by their kindred and their kind, And, long ere death, oblivion find? And in a land where Plenty reigns, Where Learning spreads her laurel' d plains; Fame ! Glory ! their incitements give, And Virtue beckons all that live? And will America gaze on And see her strength and beauty gone? Or like a Samson sleep — nor start From fell Delilah's withering art? Time was, a lighter cause could wake Her vengeance, that was known to shake The despot on his island throne, And, as the victor shout passed on, A world with deep sensation heard, And every breast was wildly stirred ! l8 A NATIONAL TEMPERANCE ODE Say who the foe that conquers here, And why the people tamely bear? Alas ! the fiend is known full well — Intemperance, that demon fell, Spreads out so cunningly her snares, He loves her most her yoke that wears. Dark is the page of human fate ; Many and dire the ills that wait Upon the erring wanderer's way; But, had he never learned to stray From the strait paths by Virtue traced, The thorns by roses had been graced, And all the roughness of the scene O'erbalanced by the joys within. Many the ills — but far the worst By which the human race is cursed, Are those that man, by Folly led, Draws on his own devoted head. And worst of all the crimes and woes That murder peace of mind, are those Which Rum upon her votaries sends, And like a pestilence extends A NATIONAL TEMPERANCE ODE. 19 Where'er a still-house taints the air, Or tavern-bar is seen, or where The petty grog-shop — sink of vice — Opens the drunkard's paradise. Sunk to the level of the swine, Is this the being half divine? Alone by human form and feature, Distinguished from so vile a creature — All animal — the body claims, From each, ambition's highest aims ! But which the nobler of the twain ? Both idly live — not both in vain. The brute fulfils the end assigned, And lives as Providence designed; But Man — with an immortal soul, Designed to burst from Earth's control, And raise aspiring thoughts on high, And win a glorious destiny; Fitted for joys of heavenly birth, To make himself a heaven on earth, With powers as those of angels bright, Permitted, by the hallowed light Of his own intellect, to find The bliss that elevates his kind, 20 A NATIONAL TEMPERANCE ODE. And well beseems a candidate For an eternal, changeless state, The spirit land, where all is soul, Freed from the cumbrous clay's control — MAN — almost angel — deigns to sink His better hope in joys of sense, And bows him, on perdition's brink, To Rum's omnipotence ! But can immortal Man desire This bane of life, this liquid fire? Is he " enamored of distress?" Loves he this utter wretchedness? No — not at once — he loathes at first, And spurns the drunkard's life accursed; But habits grow, until at length They almost gain resistless strength : The twig, a careless passer-by Might crush, will spread and tower on high, Aloft in air its branches throw, And check each gentler growth below. Mark yonder stripling, bold and free, No mortal more secure than he ; A NATIONAL TEMPERANCE ODE. 21 Genteelly with a friend he sips, The kindly glow inspires his lips, And as the glass goes sparkling round, With social glee their hours are crowned. And should mishap attend success, He vows henceforth to venture less. But the poor victim, once a slave To this debasing appetite, As well Niag'ra's tide might brave Or stem the whirlpool's might, Command the all-pervading wind, Or seek vast ocean's waves to bind, Or check the streamlet's ebb and flow, As to himself in pride to say, "Thus far, no farther, will I go ;" The habit still unseen will grow ; And he has thrown his strength away, And yielded to temptation's sway; And though he may not wholly perish, And though he still a hope may cherish, Yet 'tis the hope of him who glides Swiftly adown the rapid tides, And, if he still pursue the course, Each moment gives the torrent force, 3 2 A NATIONAL TEMPERANCE ODE. And when the cataract appears, Vain are his hopes and vain his fears : In Total Abstinence alone Entire safety can be known. Fair Freedom droops her radiant head, And weeps, while o'er the extended plain Her blessings are profusely shed In vain ! Extends one enervating vice To every rank and every grade ; The fairest earthly paradise This spoiler will invade. The young aspirants, born to rise, Gifted with lofty energies, And burning to inscribe their name On the eternal scroll of Fame, Drinking at first their social glass, Reckless, from stage to stage they pass, Till, of their budding laurels reft, Naught but a desolate wreck is left ; And those who hailed their glorious morn Behold their hapless end with scorn. A NATIONAL TEMPERANCE ODE. 23 Not e'en the pastor's sacred claims, His awful charge and holy aims, Insure him from temptation's power If once he yield in evil hour. To every rank — so fell her sway — Intemperance has forced her way j But worst of all, with stealthy tread, She blasts the poor man's humble shed ; She enters, with discordant strife, The circle of domestic life, The soft endearing spell to sever, The sacred tie, which, parted, never Can reunite — the bond of love — The web affection fondly wove, Which in one common interest binds The loves and cares of kindred minds. Woman ! 'tis thine with magic force To check the fell enchantress' course. Ah ! well I ken the power that lies In thrilling tones and beaming eyes ! May shame ne'er tinge that blooming cheek, Those gentle accents never speak 24 A NATIONAL TEMPERANCE O I > E The whisper of approving love To those who seek her wanton grove ! Gems of creation ! lend your power, And angels' selves shall hail the hour. Sons of the brave ! Sons of the free ! Inheritors of high renown, Whose first ambition ought to be To wear the freeman's crown — Whether in glorious death or life, In virtuous peace, or virtuous strife, Such strife as man in virtue bold Can for truth's sake with error hold. Smiling on Fortune's frown — Rise to the rescue ! This fair land Demands her freedom at your hand, Freedom from thraldom more accursed Than that which threatened her at first : And if you will not with your might In such a holy war unite, You are not worthy of your sires, And all extinguished are their fires. Already is the war begun, Already half the battle won, A NATIONAL TEMPERANCE ODE. 25 Already burns our beacon light, And nations, startled at the sight, Have to the world an impulse given, Approved of men and blest of Heaven ! The glow has spread across the ocean, Monarchs have caught the pure devotion, And bend across the waves to see This new-born effort of the free. Rise ! for the conquest is begun — Rise and unite, the work is done ! Sons of the free ! in deathless story Your sires shall live enshrined in glory ; A portion of the glow descending Is e'en to you a halo lending. But deem not their refulgent light Will hide your deep disgrace from sight, If, grovelling, base — you pine away, To vicious appetite a prey. 'Tis yours in mightier strife to move, And o'er yourselves victorious prove, And, joining with united force, Give to the reformation's course 3* 26 A NATIONAL TEMPERANCE ODE. Such strength as if, Heaven's fiat spoken, Some mighty holds of earth were broken, And gushing forth from many a hill Cihne many a sparkling, tuneful rill, Joining their tides as on they urged, And still by mountain-streams enlarged, Forming at length a mighty river To flow resistless and for ever — Onward, still on, with ceaseless motion, And spreading to the boundless ocean. Friends of the cause — I bid you hail ! Though jests and scoffs and sneers assail, 'Tis but the writhing of the snake — Press on, thank God, and courage take. Aided by more than princely powers The mighty work is Heaven's, not ours; And deem it glory, and a boon, To speed the holy impulse on. Co-workers in a cause which Heaven Its sanction and support has given — Well can ye spare the world's applause, And brook their scorn who mock the cause. A NATIONAL TEMPERANCE ODE. 27 'Tis by such signs the warriors know How sped the shaft, who felt its blow. Onward ! till o'er the gladdened earth The kindling impulse has gone forth, And till, where'er the bane is shed, In every realm that mortals tread, Our beacon light shall sweetly smile, Till in the farthest ocean isle, In every bark that dares the wave, Each shore old Neptune's billows lave, Fair Temperance shall sit enthroned, Her queenly presence felt and owned. Till Rum is chained and Man is free, Still, Onward ! let your watchword be. 2 8 R 1 C H A R I) JORDAN. girhard %m&m. E was a humble pilgrim to a better promised H Soldier of Christ, invincible in His high cause to stand , Whose strength in weakness perfect made, can tri- umph over death. lie made his breastplate Righteousness, lie wore the shield of Faith : Armed with the panoply of God, and girt about with Truth, Old age maintained the holy strength in which he stood in youth. With ardent zeal and trumpet voice he raised the battle cry ; lie took his stand on Rephidim, and waved the stand- ard high ! lie preached II is wondrous, matchless love, for sin- ful men who died, Placing his hope of heaven alone on Jesus crucified: R ICIIA R I) JORDAN. 29 Pro< laimed his hope to live and die in that enthusiast zeal,* If 'twere enthusiasm thus a Saviour's love to feel. And as he spake, a power went forth, and o'er the audience spread, The Spirit which inspired his strain its holy influence shed, And callous hearts were vivified as he pursued his theme, And souls forgot their leprosy, baptized in Jordan's stream. * "If this be enthusiasm, T hope I shall live and «1 i e an en- thusiast." — K. Jordan, Sermon at Green Street, w 30 A PLEA FOR 1.1 B ERTY & glen far giucrtit. IBERTY! speak aloud that thrilling word, — J Till the sound like a thunder peal is heard ; Till every dome within the Keystone State Shall, vocal at the sound, reverberate ! Ay, speak it out within the land of Perm ! For lo ! his people are awake again ! Again their heaven-born sympathies diffuse For those the sun hath tinged with sabler hues ; Their ancient worthies and their generous youth, Proclaim the glorious freedom of the truth. Shout it aloud, until the wavy air To all the boastful South the watchword bear ! In each usurper's ear the sound shall ring, The injured, outraged slave to hope shall cling, And stay his vengeful hand, consoled to know That human breasts commiserate his woe. Cheered by the thought, that thousands feel his wrong, lie bides his time, in faith that they, made strong A PLEA FOR LIBERTY. -M By 1 1 iin, the God of Freedom, Truth, and Right, Will on the oppressor's hearts pour floods of light, Till Tyranny, made hideous in its blaze, Disperse, like noxious mists at morning's rays. Speak trumpct-tongued— your shout shall save the land. The South shall bless you, that you cheek the hand Which, reft of hope, the sword and torch would wield, Should Freedom's sons the moral warfare yield. Liberty .'—Shout the name ! We hear her praise In statesmen's speeches and in poets' lays ; 'Tis noised abroad— 'tis blazoned everywhere Ve deem her spirit too pervades our air; Ye fancy that ye hear her accents now, When Boreas roars, or untamed Zephyrs blow. In fancy's vision ye behold her gleam In waving forests, in the chainless stream, Where mighty Delaware majestic rushes, Or, o'er his rocky bed wild Schuylkill gushes; Yet hush — your liberty is but a dream, Tho' bright, tho' glorious the illusion seem, 32 A PLEA FOR LI BERT Y. Whilst yet you dare not speak what she inspires; Nor dare to act as would become your sires. LIBERTY ! Give to Echo that dear name, While burning blushes crimson you with shame ; Speak it, although it blister lips and cheek — It is a holy word — speak it, oh speak ! The unwilling ear, the callous heart, awhile, The oppressor's conscience, trebly mailed in guile, May spurn the watchword, yet it shall go forth, And liberty pervade the peopled earth, Her reign supreme — her bays forever vernal — 'Tis based on Truth — and Truth has life eternal. Dare not her prophet-bodings to despise, Nor quell the ennobling thoughts which in you rise, Which fit you for communion with your kind, Fit you to range the Universe of Mind; Nor e'er your priceless, heaven-born right, surrender, To bask in Liberty's full sunlight splendor. He who would turn him from that blaze away, And veil his eyes to hide the light of day, Too cowardly to see, hear, speak the truth, Lest popular displeasure bring him ruth, A PLEA FOR LIBERTY. 33 Degrades alike the name, the form he wears, The deathless nature which his spirit bears ; Like Plato's man the character he gathers — "A biped a ni mail, withouten feathers" A mere automaton — the butt of knaves — The tool of tools — the slave of willing slaves ! But he, upon whose heart of rectitude Demons of slavish fear can ne'er intrude, Who ne'er his Maker's image hath oppressed, Feels godlike human love pervade his breast ; Can lift his head erect and walk abroad With humbly noble confidence in God ; With honest Christian boldness gaze around, And set his foot securely on the ground ; Receive with gratitude the blessings given, And feel entitled to the light of Heaven. Liberty ! Here, within the land of Penn, Rally her sons — a band of dauntless men ; Call them to bloodless warfare, in the name Of Him from whom the boon of freedom came ; Bid them to lay aside each cumbering weight Which would the awakened conscience subjugate ; 4 34 A PLEA FOR LIBERTY. Bid them with Thraldom hold no fellowship, Nor touch her proffered dainties to their lip, Nor fatten on the price of human blood, Nor seek their wealth, nor gain their livelihood By opening unto him who foully wields Oppression's rod, the incentive Commerce yields; Warn all who shudder at the bondsman's pain To lend no influence to prolong his chain. Liberty ! Ye who love her name and cause, Preferring freedom to ill-bought applause, Ye who stand pledged before the world to save, If it be possible, the stricken slave, Ye who about you bear a chainless soul, Ye who have spirits which detest control, Ye who have judgments which perceive the wrong, Ye who have sympathies which yield to song, Ye who have heart-strings which have oft been wrung By outraged human nature's countless woes, Oppression's firm uncompromising foes — Ye Abolitionists / (ay, shout the name ! I blush for him who owns his creed with shame ; ) Rally around the unfurled standard now, Erect, with fearless heart and open brow ; A PLEA FOR LIBERTY. 35 Let pure Philanthropy your breasts pervade ; Summon your moral courage to your aid ; Give all the weight of character you own To Freedom's cause, and, by her altar-stone, Whilst traitors rage around you, boldly stand, Safe in the Truth, tho' Falsehood shake the land. No longer each pursue his separate course, Nor trust alone to moral suasion 1 s force. There is a time for action, as for words ; The present time, brief breathing space affords. There is a mighty eloquence in deeds, And he who promptly acts, most ably pleads. Unite ! ye lovers of the Truth ! unite ! In union ye may find resistless might. Deem not your principles as robes to wear On Sabbath days, at church — and only there : Carry them with you to your country's altar, Nor dare, at Freedom's shrine, in Freedom's cause to falter. Do party politics your homage claim ? And will you yield your cause for Party's name ? What charm hath she the moralist to bind? What holy truths with her pollutions twined, $6 A PLEA FOR LIBERTY. That he, with vital principles at stake, Should, like a vassal, waive them for her sake? Let the earth's potsherds clash — they falsely trace The ills which shake our commerce to its base, Derange our currency, and threaten wide Beleaguering evils, fresh on every side. 'Tis righteousness our nation would exalt, And judgments follow for the nation's fault. Until domestic- slavery be o'er, Our policy is rotten at the core : While three live idly on the sweat of one, What marvel our affairs to ruin run ? Unless some hand, Divine or human, save Our land from error, and unbind the slave, A whelming flood of guilt shall drench our nation, The undying worm shall gnaw its firm foundation, The quenchless fire complete its desolation. Come to the polls, the mighty work begin ! Come with your hundred thousand voting men, Pledged and united for your country's weal — You hold the balance and may turn the scale ! Come, with determined, calm, and pure design; The ballot-box is Freedom's altar shrine ; Desert not there your principles divine ; A PLEA FOR UliERTY. 37 Nor lightly cast your vote, but ponder well, As tho' Earth's destiny that vote might seal. The Elective Franchise, your unquestioned right, Should be as such most sacred in your sight, And every right possessed, whate'er its source, Involves responsibility, of course. Lend not one freeman' s influence in the state Ac curs' d oppression to perpetuate. Liberty ! Act it out, ye tried and true ! Not with licentiousness, as Gallia knew, When outraged subjects of a kingly thrall Reared rabble Tyranny on Virtue's fall ; But, guided by Religion's steady light, Kneeling to God alone, assert the right ! Speak out untrammelled words / and tho' the sound In empty space unheeded should rebound, The time shall come (perchance the day is near), The dumb shall rise and speak, the deaf shall hear. Arise to virtuous deed and fervent prayer ! E'en now our Union's bonds are almost riven — There's guilt on earth, and a just God in heaven. Far deadlier crime than our forefathers knew, Our country offers to the Omniscient view. 4* $8 JOY IN HEAVEN. Well for Columbia, that among her sons She numbers also many virtuous ones. Swell ye the ranks of these, and bend before Jehovah's throne, ere yet our day is o'er; Nor deem the sceptre fallen from His hand, If, for the righteous' sake, awhile, He spare our guilty land ! Wkm is jcut in fwureu aver cmc dinner that \ T 7 HEN to the lyre of heaven * * Another string was given, The angels saw it glisten, And hushed their harps to listen. And when from chaos first Our mighty system burst, The stars of morning sang Till the high concave rang. JOY IN HEAVEN. 39 They saw new heavens unfurled — A re-created world — The universe nunc wide — Its Maker glorified ! And there was higher joy Where bliss had ne'er alloy, As the angelic choirs Struck their resounding lyres. And when from endless death, By penitence and faith, Through HIS redeeming grace Who loved our guilty race, A sinner leaves his ways And learns the voice of praise, Washed in atoning blood And reconciled to God, Each high intelligence Gains added bliss from thence, And there is joy in Heaven O'er one reclaimed, forgiven ! 40 JOY IN HEAVEN. When sinful mortals bow In self-abhorrence low, With penitential tears, With trembling and with fears, Then countless seraph throngs Raise their rejoicing songs, And o'er ten thousand spheres Are hailed those burning tears ! Oh, then, if angel eyes Lend us their sympathies, If God's unmeasured love Is shared by all above, Not unto earth be given Hopes which belong to Heaven ! Be it our aim to share The high rejoicings there, The banquet of the skies, The untold ecstasies, The ceaseless voice of praise Which ransomed spirits raise ! FOR THE TIMES. 4 1 Jm t\u Stows. r^OR him who is not kinsman to the Slave — -^ To whom some other God existence gave — ■ To whom the eternal snowy-pinioned Dove Hath never stooped on embassy of love — Of whom the God of heaven is not the sire — To whom the Holy Spirit hath not spoken — For him I speak not, nor awake my lyre, I seek not from that soul an answering token. But, to each soul who claims a sire in heaven, To each for whom a Saviour's life was given, In fervent love I send my voice abroad, Beseeching, "Be thou reconciled to God." Stupendous work ! to make thy peace with Heaven ! To appease a God what offerings shall be given ? How wilt thou minister to His delight, Or find oblation grateful in His sight? How wilt thou reach Him in His bowers above? Save through His own blest medium — God is Love ! 42 FOR THE TIMES. And love is the fulfilling of His law, The sovereign tribute which He deigns to draw ; And love to Him, evinced through love to man, Comprise the Gospel, Law, and Prophets' plan. Pay to His almoners the tribute due ! In each down-trodden bondsman thou may' st view Thy God rejected, outraged, and oppress'd, Of thy allegiance and thy love a test. If to his misery thou hast steeled thy heart, If to his need thou would'st not aid impart, Or from the fugitive hast turned away, Nor lent him shelter on his weary way, Thou hast denied thy Maker before men, And holy angels marked thy treason then. Open thine eyes, and in each brother see The representative of Deity. With yearning love behold the meanest child, Whose soul was ransomed by the Undefiled. Weep, if Oppression thrall his soul or limb ! Weep, if Sin's worse domain hath fettered him ! Two harrowing spectacles our view arrest ! The man oppressor, and the man oppress'd ! FOR THE TIMES. 43 The plundered bondsman, when his race is run, May hear from Heaven's high throne the words, Well done ! And He who sits thereon, may wipe his eyes, While ambient glory thrills with glad surprise j And he may range that living stream beside, Whose waters from the throne like crystal glide, Mirrored within its breast that tree revealing, Whose verdant leaves are for the nations' healing. "There shall be no more curse,"* to sadden him, Nor e'er the uncreated Light grow dim. Redeemed — the unpitying tyrant's thraldom o'er — Mercy and Love are his for evermore ! If, for eternity, such hopes remain For the poor slave now writhing in his chain, Denied the brute's poor luxury, to complain — Whose grievous wrongs are multiplied each hour, Beyond conception, or description's power, How must the Father, Maker, Judge of all, Look down in wrath on his unhallowed thrall ! ;: Rev. xxii. T.. 44 FOR THE TIMES , What words of human utterance can portray The outpouring gush of tenderness and love, The indignant pity, and the full array Of sympathies, which should our bosoms move ! And breathes there one, who, from respect to laws Set in array against "the Great First Cause," Whose Will alone is Law o'er all supreme — Would fail to break the fetter from his limb ? Would hesitate to speed his onward way, Fleeing to freedom from unrighteous sway? When Law conflicts not with the right and true, Render to Caesar, then, the tribute due. If minor evils to its code belong, In peaceful non-resistance "suffer wrong" ; Or else, alike for interest and for right, Thou mayst, in calm remonstrance, use thy might ; But when against Eternal Right arrayed, Judge ye, if God or man should be obeyed ! When to this issue we, perforce, are brought, God's will is everything — man's law is nought ! Oh ! harden not thy heart, nor case it o'er With selfish pretexts, or with sophist lore. Leave to the Eternal Arbiter the sway Of those relations He alone can weigh ; FOR THE TIMES. 45 And, for thyself, the simple Right pursue. Keep this pure standard ever in thy view ; Expediency will still attend the Right, But, taken as a rule, will Virtue blight, Lead thee a meteor chase, and dim thy moral sight. But, most of all, be agonized for those Who, while they bind the chain and wield the rod, With infidel security repose, As the crushed captive's cry ascends to God. Who see, nor feel, nor fear the warnings given, When the land darkens with the frown of Heaven ! For these speak out in love untrammel'd words — Such searching doctrine as the Truth affords ! For these, incessant, let tongue, press, and pen, Speak demonstration to the sons of men. Scatter good seed abroad, and never cease ! Sow them in faith, and God will give increase ! Where Schuylkill sparkles o'er her rocky bed, Where Delaware's serene expanse is spread, Where Tombigbe with Mobile southward creeps, Where Susquehanna's wealth impetuous sweeps, Mingling where broad Potomac's current gushes; Where Erie to Ontario madly rushes, 5 46 FOR THE TIMES. Or Mississippi in her channel loiters, Sow with unsparing hand beside all waters. In the cold, truckling North and boastful South, Sow pungent seeds of never-dying truth ; And pray for wisdom, guidance, utterance, strength, And that the scattered seed may grow at length, And bring forth fruit to multiply again, To the high praise of the great Husbandman ; That the unflattering witness in each breast May speak rebuke which cannot be repress' d, And that the Sun of Righteousness may shine In hearts where Selfishness has found a shrine, Till magnanimity o'er avarice stealing, And human love supplant each sordid feeling. The spurned of man hath still a friend above, And, stored in heaven, exhaustless funds of love. But, for the wielder of the chain and whip, Who holds God's image in his hell-nerved grip ; Who gives Cain's answer when the in-speaking Word Asks of his brother, earnest to be heard ; By whom unnumbered wrongs and stripes are given To the loved representatives of Heaven, FOR THE TIMES. 47 Whom God hath made recipients of the care And love He needs not, but which man should spare ; Who wrongs his Maker's image in the slave, What hope of mercy gleams beyond the grave ? To him thy pity, not thy wrath, be given ! Pray that the chains which bind his soul be riven ! For, more degraded than the wretch he spurns, Self-blinded, from the gospel light he turns ; Shuts out the Truth's effulgence from his soul, Where wilful Error holds supreme control. His heaven-lent powers in Mammon's service wasting, Most holy Truth to Falsehood's service wresting; The light within him is to darkness changed, His soul from God and happiness estranged. For him the beacon light — the trumpet sound ! For him let yon blue arch with truth resound ! Friends of the slave, pursue your Christian course, Always in love, but with redoubled force ; Heed not the fruitful slanders which defame, And brand with transient infamy your name. Your reputation shall be safe with Him Whom sinners spit upon, reviled, and slew, Yet pitying love breathed forth in prayer for them, "Father, forgive — they know not what they do !" 4# FOR THE TIMES. Hold up the light before the bandaged eye ! Shout in the deafened ear the warning cry ! Forth from the press, let winged agents fly To publish Freedom's doctrines, where alone Her name, and not her living soul, is known ! And, whilst on Truth and Freedom's service bent, On Truth's blest guidance be thy soul intent ! With watchful spirit tread the narrow way Where thy Exemplar left a guiding ray. Far from thy chastened heart be all the train Of ills which on the untempered zealot gain. In meekness do thy part, and look to Heaven ! In God's own time, not thine, the fetters will be riven ! Light breaks ! and Mercy shouts millennial cheer ! From Misery's lips glad words of hope we hear ! Earth's blackest cloud is pierced with beams of light, But Faith grows dim and Hope expires in night ! Thanks to the honored philanthropic band Whose voice like trumpet sounded o'er the land. Ho ! Clarkson, Wilberforce, we need you here ! To break the fetter and to wipe the tear. For every canonized apostle dead, We need a present saint his path to tread. FOR THE TIMES. 49 We look to sec in clouds that fill the sky, White-winged and pure, descending mantles fly. But who shall wear them, who, alas ! shall prove Worthy exemplars of Christ's law of love ? Oppression, storing for the day of wrath, Sends forth her thousands to a graveless death.* Pity, dear Lord, the tyrant and the slave, Soften the stony heart, redeem, and save ! * Etienne Felix Berlioux has issued in French a startling little book, "The Slave Trade in Africa in 1872, principally for the supply of Turkey, Egypt, and Zanzibar." "It is a startling fact and full of horror, that the slave trade NOW devastates parts of Africa, and sends to the grave annually (or rather to a graveless death) hundreds of thousands of victims. A small proportion of the kidnapped prisoners live to reach the slave markets. Caravan routes are to be traced by whitening skeletons, and the track is too plain to be missed. From the highlands to the seashore, along the borders of the Red Sea, from Suez to Zanzibar, the horrible caravans are seen, mere living skeletons, starved with hunger, eyes sunken, their cheeks only protruding bones, tottering and staggering, and killed and abandoned when absolutely worn out with fatigue — a blow from a club on the back of the neck, and a human body quivers in death." 50 AN INCIDENT, gyn gtourtcut. P 1 1 Is stood within the green-house bower *^ And gazed upon the beauteous flower ; The white camellia, standing there, So wax-like, and so snowy fair, A fitting emblem seemed to be Of perfect, stainless purity. Whene'er in Nature's works we trace Something of such peculiar grace That it absorbs the softened heart With pure emotions, which impart A gush of unimpassioned feeling That flows too deeply for revealing, How Memory's magic- picturing The forms of absent friends will bring, As if the beauty of the scene Wakened those tender chords within, Which vibrate at Affection's touch When the warm spirit feels too nuieh ! AN INCIDENT. 51 She thought of one who seemed but late As lovely, and as delicate, And heaved a sigh, its pensive power Scattered in air the fragile flower ! To callous, selfish hearts, 'twere vain To draw from hence a moral strain. To her it was the voice of Heaven, And she could read the lesson given. To some, Instruction wears the form Of dark Misfortune's fiercest storm ; To some, of sickness, or the doom Which calls their loved ones to the tomb ; To her it spoke with equal power In the frail petals of a flower. To the pure mind a gentle token Is more than volumes loudly spoken. 52 THE SILVER LAKES mu Mm f **«. r I ^HOU who alone from tourist's tome -*- Dost learn the charms of Nature, Neglecting to behold at home Each fascinating feature, Shut up the stupid old tome, and take A romantic stroll with me, And I'll show thee the beautiful Silver Lake With its evergreen scenery ! 'Tis beautiful, whether by mid-day bright When the sun on the surface lies, Or e'en in the murkiest gloom of night, By the light of the fire-flies. But dearest by far by the chaste moonlight, Or dearest at least to me, For thus, all beaming with past delight, 'Tis painted by Memory ! My pulse beats quick and my heart rejoices Of those silvery lakes to think, And the fairy forms and the dulcet voices I have known by their grassy brink. THE SILVER LAKES. 53 Oh they are forever most beautiful ! When the spring's wild roses blow, The stricken wight may a garland cull To his lady-love to show. And the aster there, and the violet, And the Pontederia spires, And from many a verdant minaret The songsters awake their lyres. These scenes delight you the livelong year ! They are lovely in summer's glow, And hoary winter looks beautiful here, When the green peeps through the snow. And I know for thee, when her airy flight O'er the past thy memory takes, She'll oft revisit, with fond delight, The Burlington Silver Lakes. 54 TO SAMUEL AARON. $0 Mmml gwvmi. On the occasion of the brutal attack made upon him, 6th month i 9 th, 1843. Have I not known thee well, and read Thy mighty purpose long ! And watched the trials which have made Thy human spirit strong ? And shall the slanderer's demon breath Avail with one like me, To dim the sunshine of my faith And earnest trust in thee ? — IVhittier. TV /T ILD, gentle, high-souled, generous, brave, XV A Friend, brother, lover of mankind, Whose human love, like ocean wave Embracing all, no bound can find — Was it for thee Law's mighty shield, Which should to all protection yield, By cruel ruffian's vengeful sway Was vilely rent and cast away ? TO SAMUEL AARON. 55 Well — be it thus ! 'tis better so ! • The lustrous mask is cast aside, That Satan all unveiled may show How Vice his votaries will misguide ! Thus is the soul, that temple fair (Though God Himself seeks entrance there), By Passion's fiendish host defiled ! Thus hath relentless Rage beguiled The serpent of his artifice, The saintly show of fiendish Vice ! I give thee joy ! for in the hour When murderous hate was clothed with power, Armed with a panoply divine, The livery of Peace was thine ! And 'tis a glorious boon to share The sufferings Christ was doomed to bear, Unmoved the wrath of man to view, And raise with Him the pitying prayer, " Forgive — they know not what they do !" " Friend of my soul!" no praise is thine ; All that thou hast to thee was given ! Thanksgiving to the power divine Which lent thee quiet strength from Heaven ! 5 6 T S A M U E L AARON. J, el all thy glorying be in Him, And meekly bless the Holy Giver, Who deigned thy spirit to redeem, And made thy peace a flowing river ; Who turned the wrath of man to praise, And strengthened, in the hour of shame, His patient votary to raise A testimonial to His name. Praise Him — for only through His might Thus hast thou fought the Christian light, And meekly, firmly, kept the faith In cruel stripes and threatened death. Through Him alone thou standest now, Nor merit of thine own canst show; Nor wilt thou doubt His sovereign favor, Though all thy earthly props should sever, And deeper guilt be yet incurred — 'J'/ic- work — nil work — is thy reward! Bear on — for time is short at best, And long and sweet is Heaven's pure rest ! Press on unwearied — of the host Of Hell, none slumber at their post ! TO SAMUEL AARON. 57 Be fearless — the Eternal Rock Thou standest on, will bear the shock, Though all the powers of Hades rise In fiercest storm of hate and ire, Or Satan, in his angel guise, With specious arts, insidious lies, To undermine its base, conspire ! Nor while, to lure thee from thy path, Slander, and violence, and wrath, Vainly expend their tempest force, Let hollow sophistry prevail, (Where open rage is found to fail,) To make thee falter in thy course ! Saintly opponents will be found To trumpet an uncertain sound : And these their lullaby would sing, Prudence, Discretion's praises ring. But mark ! to counterfeit these graces, Two sleek sly demons take their places, Who, with a hushed and muffled tread, Would pat Corruption on the head, And pacify each bold essay To wrestle with the foul one's sway. 6 58 TO SAMUEL AARON. Yield to the torpor of their breath, And all Reform lies hushed in death. Spurn such false counsel from thy ear ! Let Satan's dens thy warnings hear ! Stand still erect in Heaven's own might ! Keep on thine armor for the fight ! With all the fervent zeal of Saul, Let each false Felix hear thy call, And tremble in his pandering court Where Truth and Justice should resort. False is the Prudence which would cower Before the frown of transient power, When He who sitteth Judge of all Hath given thee His anointing call. 'Tis wise to venture all thou hast; Thy bread upon the waters cast, And thou shalt find it on the tide The tree of life doth grow beside. 'Tis prudence in the face of Death Meekly to stand in steadfast faith ! And, when Corruption's surges sweep, And fiendish men foul- orgies keep, CROOKED AND PERVERSE GENERATION. 59 And furious mobs, like roaring seas, Threaten destruction in each breeze, And frantic Vice infects the nation, Then righteous Valor is Discretion. From precious seed thus sown in pain A glorious harvest thou shalt reap, And garnered sheaves shall be thy gain Where saints in heaven their treasures keep §V (JmoM unci $tmvM (ftmxMiw r I ^HERE is an evil race beneath the sun, *- Of eagle-eyed perceptions to descry The smallest fault in Virtue's service done, The slightest mote trembling in Wisdom's eye. When the reformer, warm with heavenly zeal, Inspired by love which emulates the glow Felt by the Godhead when He walked below, Makes to the human race his strong appeal, Keen eyes are bent upon him, to reveal 60 CROOKED AND PERVERSE GENERATION And hold, with eager hate, to wrathful scorn, Each seeming fault of generous ardor born ; Each indiscretion, which the curious glance Of cold and lynx-eyed Jealousy could spy ; And heartless Vice, and brainless Arrogance, In deaf ning concert raise the indignant cry. But mark ! when outlawed men, for evil's sake, Reckless of wholesome law or moral right Assault the innocent, oppress the weak, And on Truth's advocates foul vengeance wreak, Swayed only by the wrongful law of might, How doth this censor brotherhood outspeak ? Oh, they are stoics then ! and, calm and mild, Could view Corruption's surges sweep the land j See halls of justice impiously defiled ; On Vice unveiled could smile with aspect bland. These may be coldly moral ; they may keep Safe from the censure of the penal law, In the tranquillity of torpor sleep, While Satan's hosts their plenteous harvests reap. And those who should rebuke them yield eclat : For me, it moves me to indignant sadness To see such heartless method in their madness. LEONARD SNOWDEN. 6 1 To on receipt of the poem of "The Old Arm-chair." [3 mo. 23d, 1843.] F'VE read with pleasure of the Old Armchair, A And o'er my mind in former brightness came Fresh thronging memories of the sainted pair For whom the hand of Letchworth shaped its frame. A sight revives before me even now, Which could in youth a thrill of joy impart, Dear Leonard's venerable locks of snow, And beauteous index of an honest heart. How well I loved thy venerable sire Thy tender heart will bear me witness still ; And if for him I have not waked the lyre 'Twas that the heart on Fancy placed a seal. 6* 62 LEONARD SNOW DEN. For rhyme were powerless, and tuneful lay, His mind's and soul's perfections to portray, And to posterity his worth convey. In very childhood on his face I gazed, And, for the quiet sermon of his life, His Master for the bright example praised Of holy calmness amid bigot strife. A gleam of sunshine fell upon my heart Whene'er I spied him in the crowded mart, His venerable form bowed down with age, Indicative of patriarch, saint, and sage ; And cheerful calmness, settled on his face, Showed that the servant of the Lord had peace. Mid Faction's venom, Persecution's flame, The smell of fire did not remain on him. E'en then, I ween, he held his firm abode Within that city with its streets of gold, In prophet-vision seen by John of old Descending glorious out of heaven from God. And when his militant career was through, Having stood steadfast for the right and true, To the triumphant church — transition bright ! He passed, midst hymns of praise and floods of light. LEONARD SNOW DEN. 63 Whom he confessed before gainsaying men Owned him before the holy angels then. And names, unmentioned by the bard, arose Like perfume sweet from precious ointment wasted, The anointing of whose lives in fragrance rose, Which the brief pilgrimage of time outlasted. Full well that chair deserved the minstrel's iay, And dear the memories which his pen retraces. May he who wrote and those who read, alway Observe their Christian faith and Christian graces ! But as I read a breeze swept o'er my lyre, A murmur faint vibrated on the wire, Which whispered softly in my listening ear Remembrance of another " Old Arm-chair," Shaped by the same industrious skilful hand, Mate to the one on which, youth's wanderings o'er, The sober, tuneful Kite sits down to soar. And blending in my mind those ancient chairs, Thoughts of their owners followed unawares ; Their many honored sainted friends were lost In the one picture which absorbed me most. 64 LEONARD SNOW DEN. That faithful pair, united in their prime, To spend a lifetime in communion blest, Their hearts congenial beating still in chime, The ancient Dove reposing in each breast. And whilst thy heart will echo to the song Which tells in catalogue an honored throng, Who came in friendship their discourse to share, And sat alternate in the Old Arm-chair — Dearer to thee, my friend, 'twill be to dwell Upon the picture of their private worth, The hoarded memories which thy bosom swell Of scenes which hallowed the domestic hearth ; The ripened, chastened, Heaven-blest love they bors Each for the other as time glided on ; Bearing the cross of Him whose mark they wore, Whose grace and truth in them conspicuous shone ; The expansive love, which in its warm embrace Circled without reserve the human race ; Children in malice, valiant in the faith Which works by love, excludes and outlives wrath. And though his relict lingered here, bereft, To fill her measure of Christ's sufferings left, LEONARD SNOWDEN. 65 Think ye, was their communion wholly riven ? Is there no intercourse of soul allowed Betwixt the church on earth and church in heaven, Though dimly known as through a shadowy cloud? Were there no Pisgah views beyond the river, No visions of the promised country given, No foretaste of the union nought should sever When earth's fast weakening ties should all be riven ? How blest the memory of the just ! their name May not be heard in after-peals of fame, But in the book of God's remembrance graven, 'Tis known and loved by all the saints in heaven. When all things visible shall fade away, And Time's long reign, as vanished yesterday, When earth shall be a garment waxen old, Its fond memorials like a tale that's told — Then may thy reputation be secure, Thy warfare ended, thy memorial sure, Inscribed within the book which open lies Before the throne, scanned by angelic eyes. 66 INSCRIPTION TO REBECCA JONES ?ln$mption to SWluura $011*0. TO ACCOMPANY A BIOGRAPHY. I \K.\R guardian spirit of my infant hours, J — > Whose blissful exit was my earliest grief, Whose white robed semblance, from celestial bower Came nightly to my sorrowing heart's relief. While, as the vision faded a! day dawn, Th' illusion seemed more real than the truth, Till the sad fact that thou indeed wast gone, Cast a deep shadow o'er my :;leesome youth — With what a holy hush o( reverent awe I place this poor memorial 011 thy tomb, And from thy life a lesson seek to draw. Successive pilgrims' pathway to illume; To show how beautiful is self-denial, How blest the example iA' the meek and lowly, How richly precious faith's severest trial, The portion of the just, how sweet and holy ! INSCRIPTION TO R B B ECCA fON B f>7 \\ here is the ra< e, the prophet and the father, The heavenly minded and the zealous hearted, Who chose, with thee, Truth's narrow pathway, Ml lie, Than Pleasure's walks where Fashion's vot'riea sported ? is the die broken and the race extinct ? Why rise not Emlens, Dillwyns, as of yore? Si anions, with sympathetic life Instinct? Drinkers, with gospel and with classi< lore? i , there no Jordan this side Jordan's flood ? No Wool. MAN ;i pure sl.iinl.ini tO CXall ? How watched the Pembertons for /ion's good I Mow mourned a Scattergood for [srael's fault I ( )h lor .1 Savery's large and catholic spirit ! A Gurnem Bevan's wisdom, zeal, and love I A Sand's keen eye the hidden wrong i«> ferret I A BENEZET, Oppression tO reprove ! A fACKSON, willi Ins mission in liis mini, Confessed by Him whose name he lived to praise I A SNOWDEN, in a good <>l adjust, Ami hospitality i" sainl • extend, 68 INSCRIPTION TO REBECCA JONES. With liberal mind above unkind mistrust — The Christian, patriarch, gentleman, and Friend ! Yet still a few, whose arms were linked with thine, Who shared with thee the burthen of thy day, Show forth th' ennobling power of Truth divine ! With loins yet girded follow in the way. A few the lively oracles still sound With the rich unction of the olden days : Where is the mantle of such worthies found ? Where the succession for their Master's praise? White to the harvest the vast fields are waving : Where are the giant harvesters? Alas ! In Mammon's service now ignobly slaving, Or threading devious ways their hours they pass. Or entering rudely, with misguided rigor, As lords (not servants) in God's heritage, Upon their fellow-servants waste their vigor, And prostitute their heavenly embassage. Thus workmen, called, equipped, and Heaven- anointed Scatter the harvest they were sent to gather ; Forgetful that in love they were appointed To bind in sheaves, they choose dissension rather. INSCRIPTION TO REBECCA JONES. 69 Unmindful of the sure directing ray, From the Messiah's golden rule they vary, To turn the gospel messengers away, And own self's workings in the sanctuary. Friends dear to thee, thy partners in the right, Go deeply wounded, sorrowing on their way ; Yet not despairing, for, in vision bright, They see ahead a better, happier day : The purpose answered of the outpoured vials; Distrust and jealous strivings to remove ; The lesson gleaned from Schism's bitter trials That the fulfilling of the law is Love. The feeble knees confirmed — the lips that falter, Touched with a coal, shall heavenly truth declare; Pure hands in innocency washed, the altar Shall compass, wrestling mightily in prayer. Worked out at length the Pharisaic leaven, Judges and counsellors shall be restored ; Fathers and mothers to the flock be given, And Israel glory only in the Lord. 70 TO A BR AM* L. PEN NOCK. 10 %tom g. %tmsth KEEP TO THE RIGHT ! "POND seeker after Truth ! Keep steadily to the right From the day dawn of thy youth To the closing in of night ! Turn not aside for Folly, List not to Pleasure's call, Lest Self-indulgence slowly With evil links enthral. Instant in Truth's reception Trace Error to its source, With childhood's pure perception, And manhood's moral force. {Still keep thy vision single, To Duty's pointings true, Nor false expedients mingle, Which but perplex the view. TO A BR AM L. PEN NOCK. 7 1 There's nought, aside from duty And truth, has power to bless, There's no intrinsic beauty, Apart from holiness. Though desolate and lonely, Brier-torn, way-worn, and weary, Though Truth's own beams seem only To show the path how dreary. Keep firm ! those truth-beams given In momentary glancings Are messengers from Heaven To aid thy safe advancings. Ever toil on ! though sadness Oppress thy soul to see The multitude, in madness, To Falsehood bend the knee, Though myriads round thee trample On purity and love, Guard well thy one example — To God thy faith approve ! 72 TO ABRAM L. PENNOCK. What though no sympathizer Join thee at Duty's shrine, Though cherished friends and wiser Thy fellowship decline, To their own master leaving Those whom thou canst not win, Doubt not the undeceiving, The mentor voice within. Swiftly thy years glide o'er thee, Nor will thy moments stay ; Thy task is set before thee, Thy term is manhood's day ! To meet the ills besetting Thy day shall ample be, If but thy moments fleeting Escape not uselessly. Keep to the right unfaltering, With upturned eye and heart ! Keep to the right unaltering Though valiant saints depart ! TO AKRAM L. PENNOCK. 73 Though life's meridian glory- May seem to pass in vain, Though evening's shades come o'er thee Ere thou thy end attain, Toil on — "the work's the wages; 11 Thou canst not miss reward ! Who earnestly engages Finds not the service hard. Wrestle to win the blessing, Unwearied in well-doing; With faith each sinew bracing, Though faint, yet still pursuing. Death shall not come with sadness And disappointments sting, But thy last days,* with gladness, Thy heart's desire may bring. 1846. * Signally realized. 7* 74 A NON-SLAVEHOLDER. f" KNEW a Quaker, modest and meek, -*- Who weighed every word that he deigned to speak, And he seemed to be always in godly fear Lest he might not preserve his conscience clear. And yet he was brave — and at Duty's call He was ready to hazard the loss of all. He could suffer or do, as the case might be, To keep from offence his conscience free. The views of the world he would oft neglect, But he treated his conscience with great respect ; Its smallest scruple he'd pause to weigh, And its least monition or hint obey. For he kept his conscience turned to the Light, And so he was sure that his conscience was right. A NON-SLAVEHOLDER. 75 There's a spirit in man — and the Quaker knew That all its reveal ings were pure and true. But anything mean the Quaker scorned, And anything base he hated and spurned ; And what he deemed wrong for himself to do He'd not do by proxy through me or you. He would pay his debts, like an honest man, To Pompey, or Patrick, or Tom, or Dan ; And none of his servants, white or black, Could charge him with keeping their wages back. And never a hunted slave that came For shelter or alms, could put him to shame ; Nor say of his vestment's simple braid, " I raised that cotton and never was paid !" No slave had lien on his sugar or rice ; He never kept back a part of the price ; Nor chain nor manacle clanked for him, Nor slave-whip gashed the o'er-wearied limb. -](> HUSHED MELODY. , There was moral health in the Quaker's tone, And moral health in his visage shone ; 1 1 e walked with an honest and manly tread : There was nothing on earth for the Quaker to dread. lie was unembarrassed in princely hall : He owed nothing but love, and gave thai to all. To Ins Maker the Quaker his soul would abase, J'.ut any man living he'd look in the face. lushed Pflodu. DEDICATION TOR A COMPILATION OK YOUTHFUL POEMS. T AM not what I have been, and yet ever A In youth's most ardent impulses — and now — The lide of feeling, like a pauseless river, Hath still been gushing, and it still shall flow. A vision hath been on me, and a spell — And every hour was marked by deep emotion; Vet on my dreaminess a watchword fell; A calm descended on my heart's commotion. HUSHED MELODY. 77 There have been checks upon my spirit's strife, There have been impulses to stir its sloth ; I have had joy and sorrow — and yet both Tempered by the vicissitudes of life. Tempests have been outlived — an Unseen Power Hath guarded me, and kept me to this hour. Storms have been gathering — clouds have flitted o'er me — Yet Fancy tinged them at the worst with brightness ; There was a tint of rapture and of glory — My soul repressed, regained its buoyant lightness. I had a gift of alchemy, which changed The iron links that fettered me, to gold ; Chained to a narrow bound, my fancy ranged; And secrets from the realms of soul-light told. I battled lightly with uncherished wrongs; I bade defiance to censorious tongues ; In moral strife I mingled, and my joy, My glory, and my most desired employ, Was to speed onward, as I might, some cause Too pure to win a heartless world's applause. And in my waking hours, and in my slumbers, Visions have courted me of various hue, 78 HUSHED MELODY. And I have sometimes told them in such numbers As in my " singing robes" my pen might woo. And thou wilt read them — and, perchance, sometimes The mild, clear lustre of thy hazel eye Will beam approvingly upon my rhymes, And merit, scattered thro' their dross, descry. Fair were the sylphs for whom I waked my lyre ; Dear were the friends whom I have blest in song ; And Memory yet rewarms that kindly fire, And oft will that hushed melody prolong. I have not passed through life unloved, unloving ; Many of Adam's race have been to me Brothers and sisters ; and my heart, approving What then I felt, beats not less true to thee. My friend, to thee I dedicate my lays: To thee, henceforth, I dedicate my lyre; For thou art gentle, and thy words of praise Were fame enough to fill my whole desire. Nor low my mark, nor humble is my aim : Approval from a spirit true as thine Is higher meed, and better, dearer fame Than echoing plaudits, or the wreaths that twine For him who brings his gifts to Public Favor's shrine. E O R I E N T A M E T II Y S T . 79 3to ©wnt &mtifcgft. The Oriental Amethyst was held by the ancients to be a charm against drunkenness. T SING of the Orient Amethyst ! -*- Cherished and loved in the olden time — For he who the violet gem possessed, And wore it about him, could ever resist The carnal fiend, with his draught unblcst, Which allures the sight as it reddens the cup, Yet extinguishes virtue, and peace, and hope, And stings like an adder the thriftless dupe, And leadeth to woe and crime. Oh ! the talisman Orient Amethyst ! The wise old sages its spell confessed : They hated and dreaded the demon whose breath Is polluted with horror, and guilt, and death j They saw when he breathed his venomous taint, Unnerving the hero, and sage, and saint, 80 THE ORIENT AMETHYST. As his hell-distilled poison was greedily quaff 'd, Though they knew there were death and despair in the draught ; And ever about them the wise ones bore A jewel, the foul fiend fled before ; And they looked in faith to their beautiful gem As the blast passed harmlessly over them. Thus in Pharaoh's plague-scourged land of yore The angel of death passed by each door The Heaven-appointed sign which bore. Long was that jewel concealed from view, And the demon his tens of thousands slew ; Earth was accursed thro' the spell malign, And the church oft mourned for the saints' decline. And misery, poverty, crime, and disgrace O'er the wise and the mighty stole on apace ; And the proudest prince and the humblest swain Were withered alike by his cunning bane ! That gem, in the dust of ages hidden, Has started again to life unbidden ! Mortal unblest, whate'er thy lot, Purchase that gem and surrender it not ; THE ORIENT AMETHYST. 8l Wear it, and ever the beautiful earth To blossoms of innocent joy will give birth ; Without it, the portals of bliss to thee May deny admittance eternally. Oh ! the talisman Orient Amethyst, Of the Temperance Pledge an emblem blest ! Which forbiddeth to handle, or touch, or taste The destructive draught which the Tempter bringeth, Venomed with sin, in the end which stingeth ! Oh ! wouldst thou taste of unblamable joy Which Earth cannot give, nor her snares destroy ? Each carnal, debasing pursuit disown ; Seek every jewel in Virtue's crown, And look unto Him in childlike faith, Who before thee and for thee has tasted death ; And thou shalt dwell in the city blest Whose foundation is laid with an Amethyst. 1842. 82 CRUDE MUSINGS, &nuU *$\M\\xp. In thk Beginning God created the heaven and the earth. Genesis i. ND when was the beginning ? Did Eden's A ■*- *- pristine bowers At the creative word spring up, bright with spon- taneous flowers ? Oh say, was it so recently that man can count the years ? Did then commence the universe, with all its rolling spheres ? We know the Eternal Architect, in solitude sublime, With innate all-sufficiency, existed from all time — Through infinite duration, long ere time commenced its flight, He lived, Himself the Universe, in majesty and might ! CRUDE MUSINGS. 8$ We know, that in infinity, there must have been an hour When first Creative Wisdom made an effort of His power. And when was the beginning ? When He made the heaven and earth ! But were they "without form and void," a mere chaotic birth ? And can we that commencement trace? Can man, with finite powers, Reckon Creation's natal day, and tell the very hours? Well may we deem — but Fancy's self wearies with such a flight, Imagination's eye grows dim in so intense a light, And Contemplation quails and shrinks at so sublime a theme, And Speculation fears to tell the wildness of her dream ; 'Tis so like sacrilegious search into sublimest things, To trace events untraceable with our imaginings — Well may we deem the text refers to time beyond our ken, And that the world had change on change before 'twas trod by men ; 84 • CRUDE MUSINGS. That God, in the beginning, in perfection made the earth, And spread abroad the heavenly host, gave suns and systems birth. He made the heavens — no mind but His could count the myriad spheres, So vast, that in the spangled space our earth a speck appears. How vast those spheres, how long their date, no record has been given — We cannot trace the origin and history of heaven. How many spheres in harmony, through ages, still roll on ; How many gave discordant tunes, and perished, and are gone ; How many, with inhabitants guilty as mortal men, "Formless and void," like ours, became,, and were shaped o'er again; How many beings, perfect made, obedient to His will, Who for His praise created them, live on to praise Him still ; CRUDE MUSINGS. 85 1 low many, who like Lucifer,* through pride rebelled and fell — All these are things which man's research can ne'er suffice to tell. IK- made the heaven and earth — the earth " form- less and void" became ; We know not how — we know not why that desolation came. 'Twas all chaotic darkness, but the same creative Might Which first, in THE BEGINNING, shone, spoke dark- ness into light, Fashioned the chaos at His will, and made this beauteous world, And, like a banner in the sky, the firmament un- furled : * The word Lucifer as a Scripture name is a misnomer when applied to Satan; it occurs but once in the Bible, Isaiah xiv. 12, and there refers to Nebuchadnezzar. The translation of Lucifer is Light bearer, which would be strangely applied to the prince of darkness. 8* 86 LEAVE FASHION'S POMP. He made for lights the sun and moon, and hung them out in space, And gave the planets their due course around the sun to trace. Then shouted all the sons of God, and sang those STARS OF MORNING Who, from Creation's earliest dawn, had been His works adorning; And through the universe was felt a thrill of grati- tude — God had another system made, and all He makes is good ! Stow* $>w\&m't %m\$. EAVE Fashion's pomp to those whose minds ** — ' untutored waste their powers, Like gardens where unsightly weeds destroy the fruits and flowers. Ignoble minds are pleased with toys, but those on virtue bent, Keep steadily in view the end for which their powers were lent. LEAVE FASHION'S POMP. 87 Sweeter than Gayety's caress is humble peace of mind, And gentleness and purity, by intellect refined, Give Beauty's self an added charm — a far superior grace ; And oh, the heartfelt weariness of Fashion's fruitless chase ! Could we in faith the simple path of rectitude pursue, Content to brook the sneers of those who know not what they do. Enjoyment pure as earth can give, our sorrows would beguile, Blest with the humble consciousness of Heaven's approving smile. Ephemeral are the joys of sense, but never-fading pleasure — Remember— this is but for those who have in Heaven tfieir treasure. «S8 WI.SE UNTO SALVATION. WViM unto Salvation . And they that be wise shall shine ;vs the brightness of the firmament — and they that turn many to righteousness as the Stars forever and ever. — DANIEL xii. 3. r I *HERE is an order of intelligence -*- More high, more pure than man has e'er conceived ! When the Eternal Author first resolved To people the dread loneliness of space, Then He created beings, glorious, bright, Worthy companionship in bliss with Him: These are the STARS OF morning, who for joy Sang at the extension of their Father's glory, When they beheld our new-created world. It may be some of these have fallen from light : — (" Satan I saw like light'ning fall from heaven :" And he, once bright among the stars of morning, Found, doubtless, at Creation's dawn his birth.) WISE UNTO SALVATION. 89 But those who, through the inconceivable lapse Of ages, have continued, until now, FrQtn the beginning perfect, — even as He Who gave them life's benevolent boon is perfect, — Must be most glorious of created beings, Of nearest kindred to the Fount of Glory. These, having never sinned, have never sorrowed, Nor known an hour's abatement of their bliss. The will divine has not been hid from them, And quick obedience followed its conception. Thus, with alacrity and eager joy, Without a thought of compromise or doubt, But rather with anticipating zeal, His will is done in heaven ! Speed, speed the day In Thine own time, oh Thou who canst not err, And make our wills subservient to Thine own ! To them obedience constitutes delight, And brings its own reward, for it has given To blest existence still a heightened bliss ! Partaking of Divine benevolence, Their bliss has increase as His kingdom spreads, And beings capable of happiness Enlarge creation's catalogue. And thus They sang together, shouting in their joy, 90 WISE UNTO SALVATION. When they beheld a world, which had become " Formless and void," created o'er again, And heaven's high Architect pronounced it good. And at the ecstasy of their glad songs, All Paradise with added rapture thrills, When an immortal leaves his sinfulness, Sheds penitent tears, and, in humility, Assumes Christ's easy yoke and learns of Him. His goodness how adorable, who placed Salvation's means within our reach, and gave His angels, blest already, to rejoice In man's acceptance of His terms of grace ! Such are the high intelligences there ! And those on earth who most resemble them From kindred sources draw their chiefest joy. They find it in performing Heaven's behest : They find it when the flood of gospel light Spreads from the frozen North to South Sea isles, From western pagan lands to Moslem shrines. They fain would urge that flood, and speed the day When, as the waters spread o'er ocean's floor, So Righteousness shall overflow the earth. There have been holy men in every age Whose chief employ in life has been to turn WISE UNTO SALVATION. 91 Their fellow-men to righteousness. The Seer Of Ramah,— and the Shepherd Psalmist King,— Saul, — and the valiant Apostolic band, — Erasmus, — and Melanchthon, — Fenelon, — Luther, — a Kempis, — Whitefield, — strong in faith j Weslev, — and Newton and his brother Bard, — Fox, fraught with holy zeal and faith, and nerved With strength from Heaven, anointed of the Lord And girded for the combat, who made war With human pride, and held the standard up Of the pure primitive gospel, breaking down Tradition's holds and Error's resting-place, And, noble in profound humility, Leading, like teachable children, lofty men To learn of Him, the meek and lowly One ; And many, who, o'er mountain, vale, and plain, Preach Christ's unsearchable riches, and proclaim Glad tidings of great joy to all mankind. When these shall put on immortality, They shall be added to the firmament ; They shall be clustered with the stars which shone From the beginning, and with them shall shine Forever and forever. Q3 FLUSH 1 NG OAKS. ItttlltHtfl (Oaltf. On reading E. L.'s Lines on the " Flushing Oaks," under which George Fox had proclaimed the Gospel in 167a and J, J. (i. in 1839, and hearing that the same scene l».ul been chosen i>'i .1 military exhibition in 1840. OT unprofaned that graceful arch — earth has N x ^ no hallowed spot So guarded in its purity that Sin will enter not, Tho' glorious deeds of other days may dignify the scene, And brighter glow the classic spell as ages intervene, The Gothic, Vandal time will come, and Folly cast its shade, Or man's bombastic littleness disgUSt with low parade. That spot — where precious memories thro' ages linger vet ; Where modern Prophecy its seal on ancient good ness set ; i I i :iii i n<; oaks 93 Where aged trunks seemed pillars in the temple God had made, Ami zephyr like a still small voice a holy calm con- veyed, Where Still, with blended spell, alike the present and the past o'er all the peaceful scene around a Quaker in- fluence cast — "l'was Vandal desecration thus on festive day to come, A warrior band, with banner spread, and swords and sound of drum. Yet marvel not that classic spot should desecration know ; 1 1 is the destiny of all we venerate below. Bethesda's pool, where, year by year, an angel came from heaven, By whom unto the limpid wave a healing power was given ; The mountain where our Lord Himself, the Life, the Truth, the Way, Spoke words of power, and love, and life, and beamed the gospel day; 9 94 FLUSHING OAKS. The garden where He knelt in prayer ; the path His footsteps trod ; His place of death; the sepulchre His dark but brief abode — Scenes hallowed to the Christian's eyes — the holiest spots of earth, Are all profaned or lightly trod by men of little worth. In every kingdom, every clime, are temples built for prayer, But worldliness and impious hate, and railings enter there. Nor yet the Temple only, but the Christian Church is found With rubbish reared, while living stones rejected strew the ground. What then ? Is there no holiness which evil doth not shade ? No place of innate purity which sin cannot invade? No Palestine ? no holy land through ages still un- stained By evil man's polluting tread ? No temple unpro- faned ? FLUSHING OAKS. 95 There is a city into which no erring footsteps stray, Yet all may enter it thro' Him who is Himself The Way! Himself The Light — unchanging light sheds forth effulgent rays ; Its walls Salvation, and the gates of entrance there are Praise. It is a temple unprofaned and sacred unto Him To whom creation's glories all are rayless, power- less, dim. And safe the treasure vested there — ages may pass away And none can steal and nought corrode — that realm knows no decay ! What keeps that city unprofaned — undesecrated still ? What warder guards its gates to check the first ap- proach of ill? Wide open stand its gates of pearl — no need of warder's care, For so intense its holiness no sin can enter there ; 96 FLUSHING OAKS. By its own nature self-repelled, and ever backward driven, For darkness holds no fellowship with the pure light of heaven. That one undesecrated spot, — wouldst thou its joys attain ? Keep pure the temple of thy heart from all that would profane : Walk in the light which manifests each dark corrupt- ing trace : Be washed in that atoning blood which would thy sins efface : In faith's obedience take the cross, and follow in the way Cast up by Him who trod it first and left a guiding ray. Then may one temple unprofaned, one sacred spot be found ; Thy heart will be a heaven on earth tho' Hell should rage around. TO J. J. G. 97 $0 $. $. $♦, 011 to (UpilHM torn gwwia. A' DIEU, since thou must go ! We would not longer here in bonds de- tain thee. Go, in the power which first thou felt constrain thee To rend the ties of kindred and of home, A pilgrim o'er the watery waste to roam. And may the expansive love which thou hast shed In Christian meekness, a diffusive glow, From every heart at thy Lord's table fed, Back to thy bosom flow. Not wholly upon thankless desert sands The gentle gospel showers have been distilled j Full many a withering branch afresh expands, With the life current filled, And many an opening flower, in many a grove, Exhales for thee the odorous breath of love. 9* 98 ro j. j. o. Go, with the blessing of the Source of bliss ! Go, with a fount in thy own D0S0m flowing Affording draughts of taintless happiness, Unfailing peace, the peace of God, bestowing — The boon I [e gives, and deigns to call reward, . To those who love the appearing of their Lord. Not thai He needs their service, yet lie gives A blest commission to advance His cause, And who fulfils it, from His hand receives A better meed than perishing applause. He feels " the light afflictions" in his path, Yet sees the rainbow in the tempest's wrath, Radiant, serene, prismatic hues revealing, Spanning the storm ami gilding every cloud, Each mist o[~ sorrow which his hopes enshroud, A Father's love, a sovereign's mere) 1 sealing. That bow is in thy heaven ! Its consolation unto thee is given ! Its hues all blent into a glorious whole Are promises most precious to thy soul. Trials ami conflicts here, The ties o( kindred severed lor awhile, The baptism of suffering ofl severe. Distrust unkind in place of Friendship's smile, to i. j. o. 99 Envy, dull Misconception, low Caprice, Sly, disingenuous, skulking Prejudice Which rankles in the shade, and darkly twines, And sows its poison where no sunbeam shines, Doubts lodged in honest, unpervertcd minds Which need enlargement, or whom Rumor blinds — All may he Dome while trusting still in Heaven And moving simply by the guidance given. Meekness of wisdom, Christian love and faith, Outlive the strife of tongues, and foil dissension's wrath. Go, hearing in thy breast A holy spell of peace ! Go, with a sweet foretaste Of that abiding rest When mortal toil shall cease ! do, with rejoicing heart, Bearing thy sheaves ! do, with that balm for every smart The soul receives, Which, humbly prostrate at the Eternal Throne, Can hear the still small voice pronounce the words, "Well done." 1840. ONE BAPTISM. ©n* iatrtisttt. Eph. iv. 5. /~\NE BAPTISM— not in the visible flood ^^ Which sullies itself as it washes the sod, Which covers corruption, decay, and death, Its limpid or turbid tide beneath. Oh ! all the water of all the seas, Though poured by a priest with mitred brow Claiming to hold the celestial keys By right of descent from Peter till now, Could never efface one stain of sin, Or cleanse the communion cup within ! " I will sprinkle clean water and ye shall be clean,' Said He from whose throne the crystal river Of the water of life flows out serene To gladden the city of God forever. Yes, He who Himself baptized not With the typical rite consigned to John, Will wash thee from every defiling spot, If thy faith is placed upon Him alone. ONE BAPTISM. IOI Stand then, from the yoke of bondage free, Unmeet for the neck of Jerusalem's daughter ; His " one baptism''' shall be in thee A well of the truly cleansing water. No heretic fable — no wild delusion — But a glorious truth, is the Spirit's effusion Which they who believe upon Him shall receive When they drink of the water that He shall give And yield to the fiery baptism given By the Spirit, the Comforter, sent from heaven — Its virtue derived not by lines of succession Thro' men who dishonored their holy profession ; No emblem, no type, but a vital reality, Not the putting away of the filth of mortality, But the answer sent up from a conscience made void Of offence, to the undeceived inquest of God ; The washing that makes the heart whiter than snow, And fit for the realms where the ransomed ones go. O Thou who hast purchased the world with Thy blood, Speed onward the time when the baptismal flood Of Thy Spirit, "a river to swim in," shall flow, And its soul-cleansing virtue each mortal shall know ! 102 WRITTEN in BOYHOOD. Open rivers where, Pride in earth'shigh places reigns, Ami Priestcraft and Bigotry hold their domains, And founts in the midst o\ each beautiful vale When Despondence and Doubting earth's meek ones assail ! 1844, Written in goitltaod. HRHERE'S net a joy that wealth bestows that's A worth a passing thought, Compared to that which freely Hows to all by whom 'tis sought — That joy ineffable which springs within the pure in heart, Who know their Lord's requirings, and nobly act their part. Little 'twill boot thee, ages hence, what ills thou ma) st have passed, If, blest, thou d Well' St within the New Jerusalem at last. WRITTEN in 150 y noon 03 Lighter than air each trial then, each sacrifice will seem, While endless bliss shall far exceed Hope's wildest, brightest dream. Tho' here thy hopes be blighted all, thy prospect still is bright ; The soil of earth will not adhere to Zion's robe of white. Tho' storms arise, the eye of Faith shall sec them pass away, And midnight gloom shall melt in gleams of ever- lasting day. This is my prayer — that life's worst thorns may not be hid by flowers, That, though they wear Affliction's guise, Heaven's blessings may be ours ; And that our feet may tread that path, altho' thro' briers it lie, Which leads from this bright wilderness to worlds beyond the sky. 04 rn E ROS E r A BBOTSFOR D. L' OOK on that faded flower, Lady fair ! is that an emblem for thee to wear? Thy eye is light, and thy lip speaks gladness ; What has Mary to do with sadness? 'Twill teach thee a. lesson of humbling power. It the fairy blossoms of human bliss Wither like this, — If the flowers which deck Fame's summit high 1 ,ike this will die, And the hopes we fondly and proudly cherish Thus will perish, — 'Tis folly to seek for garlands here ; There aie better wreaths in a brighter sphere; And we are gifted with wings to soar "Onward and upward," forevermore. We will not repress our energies, Nor nestle our hopes where the llow'rct dies. THE ROSE OF ABBOTSFORD. 105 And yet I could prophesy smoother things, And amuse thee with sing-song imaginings. I could hear, in that rose's perfumed breath, A more sentimental story Than the trite and worn-out lesson of death ! It whispers dreams of glory ! I hear it tell Of the marvellous lustre, the talisman spell, The unearthly glow, Which Genius doth on her sons bestow, Exalting the man of obscurest birth To a prouder height than the thrones of earth ; Giving him power to range at will Regions of mind, and his goblet fill At Helicon's rill, Where the tuneful Nine their draughts distil ; Where Hippocrene's stream is ever (lowing, Its crystal waters in sunlight glowing, Amaranth bays on its margin growing, Fadeless Parnassian roses blowing ; Where Melody utters her ceaseless voice, Bidding the gifted spirit rejoice In the sense of its intellectual life ; Ransomed from clay — with ecstasy rife 10 Io6 THE ROSE OF ABBOTSFORD. Unknown to the grovelling earth-worm's senses, Reserved for refined intelligences, Who scorn the attempt to fetter and bind The elastic wings of the deathless mind, And stretch their pinions in pauseless flight "Onward and upward," — to realms of light, Soaring aloft ! Soaring for aye ! " Onward and upward" — away, away ! Like the aqueous mists which dare to rise Where the Monarch of Day ascends the skies, And lo ! as he looks on their venturous flight, They are turned in an instant to glory and light. And he, the favored one, to whom Fair Science giveth Admittance to her hallowed dome, A gift of alchemy receiveth, That tinges with a golden hue, Else valueless, the simplest thing, Which, having oft-times met his view, Remembrances around it cling. The humblest flower, the rudest stone, Whereon The eye of Genius hath rested, Is with a magical charm invested ; THE ROSE OF ABBOT SFOKD. IO7 And like this Rose of Abbotsford, It may be borne to foreign climes, And there away with classic treasures stored, And sung in after times. Lady, I pause not to sing his fame Whose genius gave to this rose a claim To be treasured by thee as a sacred token : He has peopled space with a fairy throng, And his magic held me enchanted long, But the spell is broken : Oh had he planted in early youth, The beautiful amaranth rose of truth In his heart's garden, and cherished it there, Hedging it round with the guard of prayer ; If, shunning Fiction's enchanted ground, His footsteps the path of truth had found ; Had the strength of his manly mind been given To the service of Him who lighted its flame, How had he shone with the stars of heaven ! How holy had been his fame ! Yet keep that faded flower from ill ! It is with a classic charm invested : 108 THE ROSE OF ABBOTSFORD. Aye, keep that flower, for Genius still Is a holy thing, though it may be wasted. The sun may shine upon deeds of shame And illume the haunts of vice and folly, But still from heaven that sunlight came, And light from heaven is holy ! There's something in lofty intellect, Tho' turned astray, Doth like a mirror His glory reflect Of whom 'tis but a ray ! As the beams on the treacherous marsh that play, Still, tho' they shine upon foulest things, Issued from daylight's purest springs, Atoms of day ! Aye, keep that relic, that faded flower ! 'Twill teach thee a lesson of humbling power ! TO GEORGIANA. 109 Sa tifcovghutft. [To a little girl, with a work-box.] HAEAR cousin, as a pledge of love, "*-^ I send a simple boon to thee, That thou in using it mayst prove Thy neatness and thy industry. For a true lady's richest grace Lies not in beauteous form or face : It is her charm, with modest art, To act at home a housewife's part. I would not, dear, thy youthful mind Should resf content with worldly care; But taste and industry combined, Each claiming its appropriate share, Duty with duty wisely blending, And still thine ear attentive lending Unto that still small voice within Which would convict thy heart of sin, And teach thee how to tread the ways Of virtue to thy Maker's praise — 10* FAVOR AND B E A UTY. Thus, cousin, thou wilt gain the love Of that unfailing Friend above, Who, in thy hours of threatened harm, Will, with His everlasting arm, Support thee, strengthen, save, and guide Thy hark o'er Time's tempestuous tide, Bid adverse winds and billows cease, And land thee in His port oi' Peace. jjxtwr and beauty. Favor is deceitful and beauty i^ vain, but a woman that feareth the l ord, -lii- shall be praised, — Prov, \wi. 30. OTILI, seek by virtuous means to gain ^-s The kind esteem of all ; But ne'er, tor worldly favor, deign Thy conscience to enthral. For all deceitful thou wilt find Whatever robs thy peace ol' mind, And PURITY, that priceless gem, Shines not in Grandeur's diadem. PAYOR and BE A U TY . i i i Though Beauty hath a spell most bright, And many own its sway, "I'is oft an Ignis fatuus light, Which leadeth men astray. But oh, not fleeting, nor in vain 'l li.it charm the pure in heart attain, Who, though in aspect favored less, Are beautiful in holiness. And she who fears her Maker's law, And simply strives to do 1 1 is will, Receives His word with reverent awe, And feels 1 1 is love her bosom thrill ; She shall be praised — the good and wise Will view her with approving eyes; E'en those who seek their heaven on earth Will inly feel and own her worth. But not on man's approving breath, Which oft intoxicates with praise, And not on anght the sky beneath, She seeks her glorious hopes to raise. She shall be praised ! when summoned hence To meet a blest inheritance Then shall llis voice her welcome own, Whom here she feared and loved— well done! I oil N GUMM ER E. K*tra 6ummcrc. N eye that waked while others slept, in deep A N eye that waked *• *■ repose is sleenin: The heart a reverent watch which kept, a sabbath now is keeping : A soul that loved his Maker's law, now stands re- deemed before Him, " Day without night" to serve and praise, while countless years roll o'er him. The tongue from which abstrusest lore was heard in kindliest tone, 'Tunes the new song which seraphs love, on earth unheard, unknown, lie watched the dazzling orbs which take their glorious march thro' space. And noted well the smallest star which left its wonted place. And shall we see from Friendship's group, from Learning's constellation, A star o( beauty so serene forever Leave its station, John GUMMER E "3 Ni.i breathe a sigh, nor shed a tear, nor hue me moi i.il fond , To tell his course on this side death, and show his hope beyond ? Vet vain and needless the attempt ! — when earth's memorials perish, The Record Book before the Throne his memory shall cherish. And there, with glowing seraph throngs in firm and Hest alliance, l le looks into the mysteries of higher, holier s< ience. And shall we mourn his transit bright to fadeless joys Elysian, Transplanted from the horoscope which hounds our feeble vision, And added to the firmament more < lose ;ironnd the Throne, And clustered with the stars of morn, whom Christ hath made his own ? r&fe-^fe 114 JOSK I'll J OH N G U R N K Y $m\)\\ gflfttt tftonmt. T OW blest the lot of him whom God hasted to * *- take away, The soul that pleased Him, to his home of glory to convey ! He came in mercy, not in wrath, the silver cord to loosen, Because He keeps His saints, and "hath respect unto I lis chosen." Owned of the Father ! heir to life, a goodly heritage ! His sonl "made perfect in short time, fulfilled" a v,o(h\ old age. And now the anointed eye can see, while mourning hearts regret him, The end to which his faithful Lord in safety tints hath set him. JOSEPH JOHN GURNEY, 115 Oh, at a coming audience day, will he not stand in boldness Before the face of all who viewed his Christian race with coldness? Nor will the ransomed and redeemed behold with consternation His honored "lot among the saints," "amazed at his salvation."* Have we not known a spirit-plague around the altar glooming, The badge of true discipleship with envious blight consuming ? lint different far, and heaven-approved, the meek and loving spirit In which 'twas his the legacy of Jesus to inherit, By which he walked thro' life with God and godly men in favor, Adorning, at each step he took, the doctrine of his Saviour. * Wisdom of Solomon, chap. v. I, 2, and 5. .«, I OS EI' H ) o ii n URN BY Nut more distinct the Stygian flood, which yields •< blessing never, Ami the eternal gladdening flow oi Life's celestial rivei I And how, wiih introverted soulj in prayei he loved in lingei I Mow gently yielding to the touch oi the anointing fingei I Standing as Christ's ambassador, his words were fitly spoken . Souls won to Christ from day to day, were given him as i token, His noble and expansive heart was free from bigot < ramping . The seal imprinted deeply there was one oi God's own stampin n.» idle theoi ist in faith his liio reflected rathei Religion pure and undefiled before the Eternal Fath< , JOSEPH | <> II N CHUNKY '7 His love i" ( rod, no stinted flood, ;t < hannel found as ample a, (i,i the stream Ezekiel saw emerging from iii«- Temple. He saw the image oi his God in Buffering sons and daughtei i, And gave his treasure ou! foi them as rivers pom i he 1 1 waters The cripple and the aged one wenl on refreshed and .1 rengthened ; The famishing his aid received, and lo I theii life lea ic lengthened I The needy in in:, face could read a message love inspii ed , a message ivhi< i> his hand fulfilled, " Be warmed, be fed, attired." The «i.ii I. in soul, i he p< >oi in pui Be, a ii iend in need ( onfessed him ; The widow and the fatherless bore witness as they blessed him, • i Ii8 i (»:. i: i' ii | o u n GURNEY. And He who sitteth throned in heaven between the ( herubim, Beheld hia gentle, loving deeds, and owned them done tO 1 I IM. He clothed him with His spotless robe, He fed him with 1 I is Spirit ; ( )f grace a double portion gave most richly to inherit. Thro' ill report, in meekness still ins Spirit-guide observant, His heavenly Master said, "Well done, thou good and lailhlnl sen. ml !" Borne gently to his narrow bed with tens of thou- sands round him, Distinctions Lost of rank or Beet, what multitudes bemoaned him I One SOlace still sustained the SOUls whom grief was overcasting, That lie who called the loved one home, remains to everlasting. JOSEPH JOHN OURNEY. II9 I low poor tin- stinted charities with which Fame's trump is swelling, When measured by a life Like liis, in works oi faith excelling. ( )n every continent Of earth his generous deeds bestowing, And seed that shall bear fruit in heaven, in far <>n islands strewing. How blest his lot ! the righteousness ol Chrisl tO him imputed ! His title to the tree <»i iif<- forever undisputed ! No (log delayed the (h.iiiol wheels by the King's mandate hasting To bear him through the City gates to glory ever- lasting. 120 THE TROUBLED HOST. ®Itc fr«tttM lost. "And it came to pass that in the morning watch the Lord looked unto the host of the Egyptians, through the pillar of lire and of the cloud, and troubled the host of the Egyptians .... so that the Egyptians said, Let us flee from the face of Israel, for the Lord fighteth for them against the Egyptians." r I ^WAS morning, and the chosen race, ■*" Tho' led by an almighty Arm, Faithless, to weak distrust gave place, And feared impending harm. For them, with many a wondrous sign, Their Lord had shown His power divine, Yet all unawed by parted seas, Or supernatural agencies, See Pharaoh's hosts, in dread array, Pursue them through the opening spray, Across the pavement of the deep, Ne'er pressed till now, by human step. Israel beheld their gathering might, And their hearts fainted at the sight. hi TROUBLED HO SI i >i Were there no graves in Egypt's land. Thai they Bhould Beek thii deserl Btrand, And fly from ills they might have borne, 'i o periih here, undone, foi loi n ? Now Pharaoh, with his ai miea proud, ( '.Hue, like a lion to hii prey. Bui lo ! the pillai ol the < loud 1 >;u kencd hia onward way ! And thro' iii«- i loud, -uid thro' die Are, The I -<>i«l LOOKED <>N THEM in I !•'• ire. Being oi un( reated mighl I ( dm ion., ineffable, too bi ighl E'en when thou deign'al thy Bmilea to give, Foi mortala to behold and live I When men defy and doubl Thy power, Where Bhall they hide theii burning Bhame, < >i gei i ' refuge in thai houi When Thou shall look on i hem ? And ye, who idly waste youi days, And, !<■< kless, tread sin's devious maze, Tho' you may spui n 1 1 is holy will, < )mnipoten< e beholds you stilL 122 THE TROUBLED HOST. • He long extends protecting love To those who still rebellious prove, And, by paternal chastening, Safe to His fold your steps would bring. But if, unchecked, with hardened heart, Mercy and judgment you despise, The hour of sufferance will depart — He will unveil his eyes, And you will feel His awful glance, And tremble at His countenance ! Oh, then, for some effectual screen To hide from His all-searching view (That eye all terribly serene), When He shall look on you ! fS37- ON THE DEATH OF M. E. S. 123 (!)« tin icatlt oi gt. tf . #. " It was like The melting of a star into the sky While you are gazing on it — or a dream In its most ravishing sweetness rudely broken." — WILLIS. T KNEW a gentle, artless, innocent girl ! -*■ . As simple, and as delicate, and as pure As the white flower which in the underwood, Beside some rippling stream, in quiet shade, Mirrors its loveliness in the clear brook, And breathes its odorous incense unobserved. And 'twould be unobserved — but there are those Who love to steal aside from crowded marts, And in the hush of such sweet solitudes Hold with themselves high converse. Such as these, Who can appreciate unobtrusive worth, Loved her — as humble goodness must be loved. She knew but little of man's heartlessness, 124 ( >N THE DEATH OF M. K. S. For she was guileless, and her humble mind, Intent on its own business, found enough ( Frailties, and conflicts arc the lot of all) In its pure page, to cluck censorious thoughts; And, in her heart's sincerity, she deemed, Perchance, sincerity a human trait. She lived not idly — 'twas her gentle task To teach the rising youth — and as she walked In very childhood's purity, she gave A better lesson in her blameless life Than all the learning of the schools affords. There is sublimity in innocence And moral grandeur in humility ! When those on whom the important office falls To train and lo develop intellect, Are, as they should be, pure, sincerely bent To strengthen precept with example's force, It must be healthful as the dew of heaven To the young plants. 1 know that childhood's eye Hath oft a glance of closest scrutiny Which will each inconsistency detect, And the young mind will treasure counsels well When those who give them practise what they preach. ON THE DEATH OF M. E. S. 125 And so she grew and faded. She was made Of delicate mould — the gentle summer breeze Ne'er blew its soft breath on more fragile (lower. Her guilelcssness, her unobtrusive worth, And the sure symptoms of an early doom Drew many friends around her; all that wealth And delicate attention could supply, Or the fond heart in tenderness devise — The sweet communion of congenial minds, The hallow'd ministering of friendship's hand And intercourse with those who walk the earth, Which is of them unworthy — these were hers. And, more than all, her ardent spirit drank Those satisfying springs, and ate that bread Which nourishes the soul to endless life. She had her treasure and her heart in heaven. No awful gulf appali'd her settled mind, For she had hope and faith — her heart was " fixed Trusting in God." She knew whom she believed. She had not trusted fables, but had known A Saviour's blood to wash her stains away. She lay all peaceful on the bed of death ; And through the open portal she could gaze 126 on THE DEATH OF M. E. S. Upon ;i landscape passing beautiful, Her Father's work. Within a graveyard there, Day after day, upon ;i certain spot She iixr a m E, i 27 (On the ,$amc. 1) EST in rapture I we are Bure ^ Thou the saints' resl shall inherit, l [ere on earth thou seem'dsl as pure As .1 disembodied spii ii ; in those vision:, thou nasi pari Promised to the pure in heart, l .oveliness and inno< ence Marked thee as a stainless flowei I Vet iiiy hope was nol from them <•, Bui the blest atoning power < m a Saviour's pre< ious blood Reconciled i l»t<- to thy God. Brief thy spa< e of earthly trial ! Early gathered to the shock I Thou vviili virtuous sell denial Kepi the footsteps <>i the Hock ! Now, beside the living waters Thou .hi one ol Zion's daughtej 128 ON THE SAME. Humble tho' thy brief career Yet it was not run in vain : Leaving thy example here, Of a life so free from stain. Meek and gentle creature, now More than earthly rank hast thou. May the Hand that led thee thus Safely through the vale of death Still extend His grace to us, Purify our hearts by faith. And the lesson of to-day Not be lightly cast away. TO A GUEST AT OXMEAD. 1 29 In her Album. T T ANNAH, may full many a year, A A Fraught with fragrance, flit by thee; Find thee still with heart sincere, Spirit light and fancy free, Rich in recollections dear Of delightful days bygone, Blest, and still more blest to hear Bright-eyed Hope's confiding tone. And when fain thy soul would linger With the dear delights of time, Then may Faith's unerring finger Point thee to that better clime Where the Author of our faith Reigns, triumphant over death. Then, in life's maturest season, When thy memory backward ranges, Aiding still the feast of reason With her tales of wondrous changes, 130 TO A GUEST AT OXMEAD. Ami Experience, hoary dame, < >pes her store of garnered treasures, "Lighting Up the deadened llaine Of thy ardent girlhood's pleasures; While thy sober matron eye O'er the magic past is glancing, And the train comes Hitting by Of remembered scenes entrancing, Of the dearest spots of earth, Where thy best delights had birth — Then will sweetly rise before thee, Of the shades of earth divested, \Y ith a magic and a glory, And a spell of !>!iss invested, This delightful garden place, • Edeil of a fallen world, Where the holy bird of peace Propped her branch, her pinions furled, And thy heart resolved to rear This fair album tablet, here. All its charms thou mayst not know Borrowed from tradition's spell, Bui o\~ eyes and hearts that glow Long will Memory fondly tell TO A GUEST AT OXMEA1). 131 She will tell thee, backward winging, Burlington is holy ground : (lassie recollections springing Hallow all the scene around. Charming from her earliest ages, Blooming still with /lowers of mind, Home of patriots, saints, and sages, Seat of pleasures pure, refined — ■ Memory here herself embowers, Nestling 'mid perennial flowers I Thou hast seen our much loved sire,* Domiciled within his dome ! Could Ambition's self aspire To a more delightful home? See in him united, both Finished gentleman and sage, Quick intelligence of youth, And the wisdom of old age. Christian patriarch ! Reverend saint ! Beautiful in holiness ! Still with mind and eye intent Steering for the port of peace. |nhn (.'ox. I32 TO A GUEST AT OXMEAD. Whilst thou may the pattern scan, Behold the perfect, upright man ! Lady, when in riper age O'er this volume thou shalt bend, And thine eye shall meet the page Where his characters are penned ; And his reverend form shall rise, Stately as it now appears, Vividly before thine eyes, Hallowed by the lapse of years ; When our venerated friend Shall be gathered to his rest — . Still his lamp its light shall lend, And his memory shall be blest ; And thy heart shall own the sound, Burlington is holy ground ! 1838. TERMINATION FOR THANATOPSIS. 133 ** \ S one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to" tranquil sleep, Sure that to-morrow, in his Father's house, A bright and gladsome mansion shall be his. This mighty sepulchre is ?iot thy home, But in the City of the living God, Where fadeless light ineffable is shed From light's ineffable fountain, mayst thou dwell, (Such is the boon designed for thee by Heaven) There, with the gathered church of the first-born, Angels, and spirits of just men made perfect, Blest in the presence of the source of bliss. The rock-ribbed hills, and pensive quiet vales, The meadows green, and venerable woods, The purling rills, and the majestic rivers, And e'en the infinite ocean's broad expanse, Boundless and fathomless to mortal ken — 12* 134 OUR ALFRED. All these shall fail, but thou shalt live for aye, Renouncing kindred with the sluggish clod, And, with a form like that which angels wear, Bright as the gorgeous clouds around the sun, Forever hymn high notes of joy and praise ! Who would not die to live a life like this ? 1836. 1 "Our SUM*.** Written for the parents of A. A. T. F we never had possessed thee — to our warm embraces pressed thee, Or in ardent love had blessed thee, child of the placid brow ; If the boon had ne'er been given, which we now resign to Heaven, And the tie by death been riven, thou hadst not been gathered now With the white-robed, with the ransomed, with the shining seraph band, With the heavenly host of harpers by the Father's throne who stand. OUR ALFRE l>. 135 And the tender recollection, the endearing retro- spection, Of each grace and sweet perfection, 'twere an " aching void" to miss ; And we would not change the sorrow, and the tears our cheeks which furrow, And the anguish, like an arrow in our hearts, for griefs surcease ; For a draught from Lethe's waters — for a home by Pleasure's well — For exemption from all sadness in prosperity's gay swell. No, we bless the Hand which gave thee, and was soon outstretched to save thee, And upon its palm engrave thee, to be ever in 1 lis sight J And we bow in deep submission as we yield to His possession, t As we hail our child's admission to the City of delight; And with chastened hearts we "suffer" thee to join thy ransomed peers, Where, the Father's face beholding, there shall be no cause for tears. 136 OUR ALFRED. And our faith m God confirming, and our hearts in homage warming. And our wills to His conforming, we confess His perfect right ! Be transplanted, bud of ours! bloom in Eden's glorious bowers ! And expand thy opening powers there, where sin can never blight. 'Twas a pang, indeed, to lose thee, but more bitter far 'twould be Here to hold thee in temptation, and thy soul's de- cline to see. Forever safe, we greet thee — warble there thy an- thems sweetly ; Be it ours at length to meet thee by our heavenly Father's throne : By thy spirit's luminous traces, we'll pursue thee through the spaces, And in Kden's blest embraces, we ' II not claim thee as on)- 0:011 ! By creation, by redemption, thou art 1 1 is who reigns supreme ! Shall we learn from thee our lesson in the saved ones' grateful theme ? COERCION* 137 Wilt thou teach thy earthly sire how to use an angel's lyre, And thy mother's lip inspire with the new harmo- nious song ? Precious Alfred! must thou hear us? canst thou sometimes linger near us ? And in balmy slumber cheer us, and our dreams of thee prolong ? Be our spirit with thy spirit, and our treasure fixed in heaven, Till our warfare be accomplished, and our summons home be given. Lines suggested on seeing the in >1 number of "The Non Slaveholder." I ^RESH help I fresh champions in the field •*~ Of moral bravery, Truth's panoply to wear and wield 'Gainst Slavery ! To stand in virtuous freedom bold, The banner with linn hand to hold, 138 COERCION. A lifetime warfare to proclaim, In Freedom's name, Against a system foul, inhuman, And to a bloodless battle summon ! But hark ! as from a bleating flock, Who fear the moral battle-shock, I hear the timid cry arise, Of those who mark, with mournful eyes, Truth nailed against the cross by Hate, And, with vague fear of unseen bait, Afraid of ghosts where ghosts are none, Or seeking worldly loss to shun, Follow afar, with conscience stricken, That truth, believed, and yet forsaken. Truth's lovers, struck with pallid terror, Join the Ephesian shout of error, And cry " Coercion !" Evil is odious in their sight, And yet they dread the moral fight ; Some spectre rises to affright, And check exertion. COERCION. 139 Backward they look with reverent gaze On conquests won in former days ; Past triumphs win their ready praise, As " Moral Suasion !" Their valiant fathers battled well ; Proudly their sons their virtues tell On each occasion. And, oh, had Satan kindly lain, Prostrate and slain, When those good fathers struck the blow, As ye strike now — ■ Who could have blamed the fatal thrust, Coercing him to lie in dust, Or feared (their faith excused from trial, Temptation having taken wing) To use luxurious self-denial Separate from the unclean thing ? Yet list ye to that chorus cry ! With ready ear its meaning try ! Subject the word to test discreet, As with the mouth ye taste of meat ! It stands you much in stead to ken The temper of the assailants' blade, 1 40 CO K R C ION. The one they ever brandish, when Fresh movements Tor the truth are made ! To me, I ween, that cry has grown An old, familiar, tedious tone, Still ringing, dinging in my cars, Since first 1 grew to manhood's years : I've known it raised, with craven terror, At every new attack on error; And not without this deafening roar, Was gained one inch in righteous war. When (haste and lovely Temperance, first, Her '• few and feeble" champions mustered, The sages, at the bottle nursed, Struck with dismay, were sadly llnstered. To the pure love of truth a stranger, Bach saw his gainful craft in danger, And, lacking argument for evil, Yet bent at moral truth to cavil, In hope o\ gain, in pure perversion, They raised this bugbear shout, " COERCION !" And silly Echo caught the cry, Nor suffers yet the sound to die, COKUCION. 141 Fijling with the re-echoing sound, Craniums where brains not much abound, And hollow hearts where sordid pelf, Or that corroding canker, self, Upon the vital fluid preys, And every generous impulse stays. Since then I've marked, on each o< easion, That called for fearless Moral Suasion, In every stage of every fight, Where Error was assailed by Right, Coercion was the favorite shout Employed to put the Truth to rout, And, lingering sometimes on the tongue Of truthful ones who Loathed the wrong, Good men and true, in pure mistake, As argument the word would speak. And Truth would always kindly bear The atta< ks which most obstruct her cause; When hearts mistaken, yet sincere, 'The many join, in blind applause Of plausible, insidious Error, And view her form with honest terror ! x 3 142 BOAT SONG. !adies i.m , And a most blissful seeming now The world doth wear, The glorious morn Is weeping now lis eai Liesl dew, And spring's first flowers are keeping now The drops for you. Thei e s I ime enough for soi i owing in life's even i Now is the i ime lor 1mm i owing Tin- light of heaven ; Now is the i ime foi soai ing high Where eagles soai , And Learning's shi me imploringly To bend before. Then onw.ud, Upward, ( luvi il\ , ( rentle ones ; TO A I. it E RARV CI RCl-K »-15 And quaff the nectar merrily Thai sparkling runs i'i oro that high hill where gloi iously Spring the flowers, Wlu-n- his glad plumes vii toi iously ( renius embowers ! And be each day's adorning bright, A grateful hymn, Before yum sph it's morning Light Groweth dim. And gather there, with spirits light, Flowers oi soul, Where sorrow cannot bear its blight, Nor tempests roll. And be your lot eternally Among the blest, Where joy springs ever vernally, And souls have rest. '.;' 146 TO A SIMILAR COTERIE $0 ix jHmilw (ffotme. /^^ ENTLE spirits, bright, refined, ^-* Ranging in the fields of mind ! Each aspiring thought unchecked, Gleaning flowers of intellect ! Beauteous sister spirit band, Born to grace a spirit land ! Seek a deathless Eden's bowers ! Pluck and plant unfading flowers ! Flowers of soul ! Flowers which spring Where Fancy, on her boldest wing, Rests, hovering in her proudest flight, In realms of intellectual light ! They liken you to flowers of earth Which perish in their place of birth, Whose transient glories death will spoil, Rooted in their gross native soil. TO A SIMILAR COTERIE. 1 47 For me — I seek a purer grace Than fairy form or blooming face ; Those flow' rets yield to sure decay, And beauty is the spoiler's prey. Be mine the cultivated mind, In Muses' classic bower refined, The will subdued, the spirit tried, Chastened by grace, and purified. Be yours each intellectual grace ! Be yours the realms of light to trace, To soar aloft with eagle wing, Earth's vapors from your pinions fling, And, ranging in the upper air, Try your unfettered spirits there, And quaff the dew that forms in heaven, Ere to the thirsty plains 'tis given ! Nor intellectual joys alone, Sweet sister band, to you be known ! Be yours each spiritual grace ! Be yours. to run the Christian race ! 148 i a :; 1 M 1 1. A R COTER l E. I ,et yoin ambition be your duty ! I:.- holiness \ "in robe oi beauty ! And yours will be a brighter wreath Than e'er was seen tin- skies beneath. And you will rank with Zion's daughters, And roam beside the Living waters, WhOSe streams that wander tree abroad, Make glad the Paradise of God ! And e'en to you may there be given The voice of praise — the harp ot heaven ; And purer bliss than Hope had dreamed, Ami the high song of the redeemed. And there, with better /est than now, 'l'he tide of intellect shall (low ; And knowledge gather as you gaze, And knowledge give new t hemes oi praise! JOHN WOOL MAN. 149 $ott« Woolnum. Links addressed to the youthful owner of the mansion at Burlington in which John Woolman met with the incident mentioned in his journal at the commence- ment OF CHAP. IV. 1 757. 5 mo. 13. — Being in good health, and abroad with Friends, visiting families, I lodged at a Friend's house in Burling- ton. Going to bed about the^lime usual with me, I awoke in the night, and my meditations as I lay were on the goodness and mercy of the Lord; in a sense whereof my heart was contrited. After this, I went to sleep again in a short time; it was yet dark, and no appearance of day or moonshine; and as I opened mine eyes, I saw a light in my chamber, at the apparent distance of five feet, about nine inches in diameter, of a clear, easy bright- ness, and near its centre the most radiant. As I lay still looking upon it without any surprise, words were spoken to my inward ear, which filled my whole inward man. They were not the effect of thought, nor any conclusion in relation to the appear- ance ; but as the language of the Holy One spoken in truth. The words were, certain evidence of divine truth. They were again repeated exactly in the same manner, and then the light disappeared. OH ! gladly who would not be found Dwelling on consecrated ground Where mighty miracles have been By Heaven revealed, by mortals seen? 150 JOHN WOOL MAN. Who would not dwell where Israel erst Pillowed with stones his patriarch head And saw unearthly glory burst ? The ladder unto heaven that led, On which beatified angels shone Between the footstool and the throne ; And filled with holy awe he vowed A life-time covenant with God ! Or where he wrestled not in vain Till break of day, by Jabbok's ford, A heavenly blessing to constrain, Prevailing with his Lord ; Or where His visible presence burned (Whose word was a consuming fire) On Horeb's mount, and Moses turned, Trembling before Creation's sire ; Or Sinai's consecrated hill Where laws were given as dews distil ; Or Pisgah, or the valley where The Lord made Moses' sepulchre, Whilst, tho' his life had wondrous length, His eyes were yet undimmed by age, Nor yet abated was his strength, Treading earth's weary pilgrimage ! JOHN WOOL MAN. 151 And thou wouldst bless thy favored lot, Couldst thou but call thine own the spot Where burned the uncreated light, Beyond the intensest day-beam bright, When Saul, with erring zeal sincere, Ancient Damascus' wall drew near, Still breathing" vengeance against those His bigot rage deemed Israel's foes. But if thou seek' st an outward ray, A visible beam of fadeless day, To mark and consecrate the spot Where thou, content, couldst fix thy lot — From this old mansion wander not. Daily that chamber thou mayst tread Where Woolman once reclined his head, When He, who in the bush of fire Did Abram's godlike son inspire, Appeared to him in vision bright — A legible token on the wall — And filled him with such words of light As never came at Reason's call. He pondered no enthusiast dream — That servant watchful, meek, and lowly — i , ■ [OHNWOOLMAN, ( roodncss .Hid inci < x foi mcd his I heme ( >i incdii.it ion calm and in >i y, in simple 1 1 us i , sei end y mild , Teachable as n love led child, Emptied oi self, in Faith sublime I like i " ophet oi 1 1 » * ■ olden I nnr, I I [9 heaven] y Fat her found him iii< - i e, Fitted (.1 mortal yet ) to share, Such vision as 1 [e deigns impai 1 To nunc ex( epl 1 he pui e in heai 1 . 1 [e saw .1 Bofl , undazzling 1 ay ( >i < leu .!H(i easy bi ighl ness play ; a n emanat ion pure oi 11 im ( >i whom the sun is but b beam ; Who le \ ei y sell and name is light, Whose ab ien< e would be nun Iciest night Blest are 1 he fait h anointed eyes I The v isii >n wakened no surpi isd 1 Ee plumed not Reason's dai Ing wing, 1 ndulged no wild imagining, N01 yet, wit ii 1 unning .i 1 »it ii oi thought . A philosophic meaning sought — I ii N WOO LMAN Bul waited i paticnl , i aim, and still. The tea< hing o1 the unci i ing will. And ;r, he w.iN liir, I « . I . < • 1 1 , Words to in b mental eai were spoken, a 1 1 « i iif, whole inward man was filled , And oik e again I he message thi illcd, A ( leai , indubitable sign ; The bvideni e ob Trui h i )ivine. Within thai am ienl mansion still Methinks has reverenl faith b< en found; A ml w.iN hfulncss and si i uggling zeal Shi d a presei ving influcn< e roundi A, when the prospering care ol heaven To ( )bed Edom's house was given. And in thai tranquil i hambei yi l >oili t hildlike fail h I he anoinl ing tvail Bui noi to supei natural sign Would I Mi y outward scan h invitCi Bui in i hy spii ii '■. inmosl shi ine Would tin n i hce to I he inwai d lighl , 'i hi fail idui hca v< n enkindled i a y win- ii to thysell points ou1 i he wav. 'I here, wii h a subjugated will And ( Ihrisl subje< ted thoughl i and fi i lingSi '51 I oil N WOOLMAN, Are felt| in gentle voice and still, The l Eoliest ( me's revealings. And to the < li 1 1 < I who loves to gather The meaning of his heavenly Father, l low precious is the slightest token By which this righteOUS will is spoken ! oh ! in the true believer's heai I is found Jehovah's dwelling place I And only there I le deigns impart His savin:', light and grace I And there alone is ineen.r given Which finds acceptance at the Throne ; There beams the holy ray from heaven Which mUSt outshine the sun. A lustrous, unambiguous path The watchful, h>vc- led pilgrim hath ; His step is firm — he walks by faith ; He seeks not life he dreads not death. Tireless in works of love and duty, Darkness itself is lij;ht and beauty, As laying by each cumbering weight, And pressing On With hope elate, fOHNWOOLMAN. 155 Regardless oi their zealot prea< hing Who winding paths to heaven are tea< hing, I [e gives attention to the ray win' ii to himseli points out the way. I love that venerable dwelling ! To me its stately, antique walls nd i oi golden days arc telling, And vanished seers the sighl re< alls. Us honored floors have oft been trod By servants well beloved oi ( rod. Penn -who sublime in truth's possession j icid thro' all ( hange his faith's profession ; In pei se< in ion's perilous houi Ami sunny days oi wealth and powei , I [e prea< hed the truth's awakening word 1 To towering kings and haughty lords, And told i" untaughl [ndian hordes His love foi them who tasted death, And \>y his works he proved his faith, I Eosktns who, like an outposl firm, Shielded Jerusalem from harm ; Emlen — who showed to every eye llr, K ing's ( ommission sealed on high ; 156 JOHN WOOLMAN. His son — whose chastened spirit still Maintained the watch with Christian zeal, And sang, in death's o'erpowering strife, The Resurrection and the Life ; Dillwyn — a holy man of God, Obedient to his Master's beck. Whose gushing influence shed abroad A love which knew no bigot check, Whose lips, which breathed prophetic lore, At Inspiration's fount were tasting, Whose gifts a demonstration bore Of Him whose power is everlasting: Him* whom thy heart will love to style An Israelite devoid of guile ; And him whose honored name I bear — A name the bondman loved to hear ; The desolate widow proved his care, The orphan found a guardian friend, The church, a prop which would not bend. The thoughts of self could ne'er avail To turn his honest judgment's scale. Erect in truth, no eye could see Blemish in his integrity: * Nathaniel Coleman. JOHN WOOL MAN. 157 To him a place we may accord With the Jeshurun of the Lord. And her whose loss we keenly feel — A mother in our Israel — Gathered in mercy and in love, While clouds hung gloomily above, To the perfected and first-born, Leaving the militant church to mourn ; Tho' still was spared a sire vvhose form,* In reverent age erect and firm, Tokened a faith that wavered not — A pillar going no more out. And he whose unextinguished glowf Of love and zeal no bound could know; Who, heedful of the Spirit's voice, Made weary pilgrimage his choice ; Who shrunk not e'en to Russia's king His fervent messages to bring, And Truth's unflattering doctrine told To him who proudly claimed to hold Saint Peter's key — yet scarce could brook On his own heart's dark page to look ; * John Cox. f S. Grellet. 14* 158 JOHN WOOLMAN. Whose love in unchecked current ran To the whole brotherhood of man.* Of these, my gentle friend, and more Than those my pen has numbered o'er, Saintly remembrances still hover, And with their spell thy mansion cover. But bend thy earnest glance within, And let the manifesting light Pierce each indwelling haunt of sin, And turn to day the spirit's night, And photograph upon thy heart Visions and words of light and glory, And choose thou Mary's better part, As those who paced this house before thee. Maiden, 'twas wondrous to behold The sight to Woolman's eye revealed — But glories tongue hath never told Are by the ransomed soul beheld, * In this house J. J. Gurney had a remarkable meeting, com- posed of numerous Friends and some of the most illustrious citizens, in which he gave them valuable information relative to the favorable results of emancipation in the West Indies, whence he had recently returned. A SICK BARD AND HIS VISITORS. 1 59 Where, strength being given to every eye The unveiled Presence to descry. The awful Source of light is seen. None dread the unconsuming flame ; Love sheds a lambent ray serene, And Mercy mingles in the beam. Be such thy vision in the day When thy life's silver cord is riven ! And even in thy earthly stay The robe of righteousness be given, The wedding garment recognized in heaven ! /^~\N a bed of sickness a bard was laid : ^^ Languor had dimm'd his soul-lit eye ; The flush of health from his cheek had fled As the roseate tinge forsakes the sky When the glorious orb, whose presence inspires Joy to a system of worlds, retires. 1 60 A SICK HARD AND HIS VISITORS. Oh, who that son of song to redeem, Or to solace, would not incline, Could he hand but a cup of cold water to him, In the name of the sacred Nine ? What wondrous mysteries ofttimes linger Round the sick man's couch, till it almost seems That then the pointing of Mercy's finger Unto holy Truth, most brightly beams ! But the droning proser, whose thoughts have run On dollars and cents since his life begun, Knows not the classic, refined, pure feeling, The mysterious glow o'er his senses stealing, The unearthly spell and the high revealing, Which attendeth the couch where Genius pineth, E'en when the lamp of life declineth. In a dreamy trance I had once a glimpse, And I saw Mnemosyne's tuneful nymphs To the sick bard's couch come brightly winging, Ravishing airs of beatitude singing, Rapturous draughts from Helicon bringing, Parnassian dews from their pinions flinging — Calliope, Clio, and all the train — For the Muses mourned for the minstrel's pain. A SICK HARD AND HIS VISITORS. l6l Oh bright was that couch of disease to him, For earthly maids to those nymphs are dim; And their airs were unlike the songs, I trow, Of the boarding-school miss, or the coxcomb beau, Who teach you to wish, as you see them come, That you were deaf, or that they were dumb. But lo ! to the couch of that bard sublime, While the Muses were waking a heavenly chime, There cometh a guest of a nobler form ! His languid eye brightens, his heart beats warm. Who is that being of presence bright ? There was sternness, and sadness, and glory, and light, On her awful brow, in her piercing eye, And I knew the goddess, Liberty : And I felt that the bard had higher praise Than the doubtful renown of tuneful lays. The poet may swell his boldest strain, But he lives, he writes, and he sings in vain, Tho' his numbers may flow as pure and free As the tuneful Nine's own melody, If he have not striven, in a minstrel's might, For Truth, and Freedom, and sacred Right. 162 HOPE. But he — the lyre to him was given To wake it boldly in Freedom's cause, To tell the counsel and truth of heaven, To tell of his country's insulted laws. And fetters fell off where his footsteps moved, And tyrants frowned, and the free approved, And Liberty smiled on her son beloved ; And now, when disease had seized his frame, To minister to him the goddess came. 1839- loyc. TV /T AIDEN, in life's brilliant morn, -^ * -*- Let thy hopes of heaven be born Let thy thoughts, thy wishes, be All of stainless purity. And while morning breezes shed Balmy odorso'er thy head, Let thy orisons be given For those gales to bear to heaven. HOPE. 163 Then may Hope's soft ray come o'er thee, Bright with promises of glory. If (which Heaven forfend) thy < Up Now with transport sparkling up, Must with dregs of woe be filled, And thy heart with anguish thrilled, Still may heavenly HOPE the while, Like a guardian angel smile. Sorrowing for another's woe, If thy kindly tears shall flow, Grief's dim eye through tears shall brighten, And her mournful accents lighten, Grateful, blending, while they bless, Thoughts of thee and happiness ; And the angel Hope shall be But another name for thee. Still in evening's calm decline May her holy light be thine, And the heavenly ray of HOPE Sweetly gild thy horoscope. Then be thine the sacred spell Of a memory that can tell Humbly of a life spent well. ..,, HOPE Thine the I [ope thai lifts the eye To a blest futui ity ; Ami the Faith which can assure i Cope's i>i ighl visions Bhall endure. l [ope is & delusive i ay Fixed en things that pass aw.iv, Bui to things beyond tin- skj , W'lu-n she lifts her heaven-lit eyei Faith a confirmation gives, More than all that I Cope receives. TO ONK CRIPPLED FROM INFANCY. 165 $0 mt &xi\)\)\u\ ttm gfttfattfj}. r I ^HOU seekest, Jane, a lively strain, from one ^ whose unused lyre, Silent to song, neglected long, seems made of rusty wire ; Time was the notes of mirth could swell from its elastic strings, And my young heart would lightly tell its fresh imaginings ; And if I say maturer years repress those mirthful feelings, And life's realities have checked fond Fancy's gay revealings, And life's meridian sultry breeze relax the sportive fingers, Whi( h erst were fain to sweep the chords where melody still lingers, '5 i 66 TO ONE CRIPPL E D PROM in F a n e y . Deem nol the soberer hue ot thoughtj Time's darkeri graver pinion, Which sweep', away the fantasies ol Fancy's brighl dominion ; The truthful ray oi life's midday whi( h melts t lu* I j . i \ ad o r n 1 n g| The spangled frost work silvery bright, thai glad den'd childhood's morning — Deem not that these have lessened aught, life's dail) fund ol pleasure, Oi that its blessings now are dealt tome in Btinted measure. Nay, fane, l l>ii life hath |oy enough to glad the trust iul soul ; Bach i .use j An, I bright the skies that kindly bend thy favor'd head above, Thy lot in pleasant plaees east within a heme Ol love, TO ONE CRIPPLED PROM INFANCY. 167 Gathered beneath a patriae h's vine, whi< h lends its sheltering grai e To all who cluster 'neath its Bhade, and share its spell ol peace ; Whose almost garnered fruitage hangs upon its lovely boughs, While wisdom glistens in the snow whii h spreads o'er honoi ed bi ows. Then willingly J wake my lyre, and with a cheerful voice 1 bid thee in all things give thanks, and always to rejoice^ Perchance a sadness shades thy heart, when the young lightsome throng Seem scarce to tou< h the bending grass, as free they pass along ; Bui ( heer thee, Jane, no i ause is here foi even a shade <>i soi row i Life is ai best a fleeting day, and there's a glorious morrow. That day spent rightly at thy post and lol to moi row's dawn Shall show the vail, wln< h hid the Ways o! Provident r, withdrawn. 1 68 TO ONE CRIPPLED FROM INFANCY. With wings as eagles thou shalt rise — with pinions of a dove, And silvery feathers, thou shalt track the blissful realms above. No trammel on thy spirit-wings — no fetters on thy feet- No drawback on thy thrill of joy, before the Mercy- seat ! Thou, too, mayst stand before the Throne, and join the angelic song, The stream of ravishment whose notes do not to earth belong. Remember, Jane, no chance nor fate made thee to differ thus, And reft thee of the full, free range, so kindly given to us ! It was a Father, who, for thee, from out His bosom, gave His only Son, in matchless love, to die, thy soul to save. Could boundless wisdom, boundless love, and bound- less power combined, Have failed the gifts most fitted to thy spirit's need to find ? M ETEOROLOG ica r, . 169 Thy presenl dispensation's cause, thou cansf not fathom now, But the rich mercy of thy lot hereafter thou shalt know. Spring up, oh well of living praise, within that favored breast ! And be that gentle maiden's heart, the dove-like Spirit's nest ! A written opinion ns to whether H. O. should m or should not take an umbrella in Iter excursion up the North River. P^ORTII with thy buoyant tread ! ^ Well be thy journey sped ! Fair be heaven's azure spread O'er thy new bonnet, Tinged like the mountain fawn, Made all of finest lawn, Strings of like fabric drawn Neatly upon it. 15* • 70 M ET E0R0L0GICA] Never to cause thee pain, Never t<> turn thy brain, May il)*' least d i 'op of rain Splashing come on ii I spi ead t>iii iliv spirit wrings I ( < rossamei , gauz v i hinga I ) With untied bonnet sti in;;s l n the aii si i earning I ( )n with thy snorting steed, o'er sand bank, hill, and mead, I larting with lightning speed, Whizzing and steaming I spite of the suit i \ s\t v , Brimmed with hilai it v. Pleasure in either ej e 1 lancing and beaming, ( )h, with prophet ic eye, See yondei azure b1< y Spread o'er immensit j I ,ike a Mne ocean, Fleckered with isles «>t white, Tinged with the golden light, Seeming like angels bi ight Wrapt in devotion. METEOROLOGICAL. 171 ( )Yi 1 hat ( c!c:,i ial dome Floating they nearer come, As to some 1 ommon home l'i cc 1 1 om commotion. See how 1 hey sofl l y < reep 1 ni< i one ( < minion heap, Where they like snowflakes sleep In the sun's blaze. There might the angels rest, There mighl pure spirits blest, Pen hed in thai vapor nest, Down on thee gaze. Still swells thai cloudy pile, Whilst Still, for many a mile, Sails ea< ii white vapory isle Into iis haze. ( 'air.i thou not read the sign ? ( 'an, I th0U net well divine This is the tempest 's shi ine Where the storm gathers ? Aye, that elei m i< < loud I:, bin the tempest's shroud, l ionic oi the thundei loud, Nest of foul weather. 172 METEOROLOGICAL. Torrents of summer rain, Deluging hill and plain, Pour from the gorgeous fane Built up of feathers ! Then, lady, young and bright, Bound for the mountain height, Unto whom Fancy light Lendeth her halo, Oh, ere thou roam'st away, Oh, ere thy footsteps stray From where thy bonnets lay, Each by its fellow — If thou wouldst save the lawn, Tinged like the mountain fawn, O'er curving wires drawn, Take thy umbrella ! 1843. IURTIIDAY ODE 173 To on arriving at the age of eighteen. /^VF a humble bard thou hast asked a lay, ^^ Because, in the lapse of time, Thy girlhood's years are over to-day, And thou art in womanhood's prime. Strange change ! enough to give thee a fright (If it were not quite so common), That a lassie, who lay down a girl — last night, Should awake this morning — a woman ! Yet I cannot see that a change hath come O'er thy spirit, gentle maid ; That time has increased or lessened thy bloom, Or given thy brow a shade. But, maiden, a shade I fain would cast Of thoughtfulness o'er thy brow, For much of the freshness of life is past, And thou art a woman now. 174 BIRTHDAY ODE. The visions that gladdened thy horoscope Are o'er with their childish joy, But the bringing in of a better hope Should now thy thoughts employ. Thou hadst holy lessons in girlhood's hour, Which time should never efface — How the glory of life is a perishing flower ; How frail are the hopes we place On the dearest objects of human love ; How deceitful the spell of gladness — For death will our brightest links remove And leave the soul in sadness ! There was one whose memory lingers still Like the sound of a pleasant lute, Which echo revives from hill to hill When the pipe itself is mute. Thou wilt think of him in morning prime, And when twilight groweth dim, And when Night spreads o'er us her pall sublime, Then thou wilt dt-cam of him ! BIRTHDAY ODE. I 75 'Tis a blessed thing to ponder o'er The deeds of the holy dead ! The precepts they spoke, the cross they bore, The light their example shed. And when the spirit is chastened thus And tendered afresh with grief, And the spell of sorrow comes over us, Which doth not ask relief, 'Tis a time to turn to the merciful One Who woundeth only to heal, His advent to hail, His dominion own, And our own dark frailties feel ! Then, maiden, dwell on the bitter past ! For there's balm in its bitterness ! The tender shadows which grief will cast Are better than mirthfulness. Still love the virtues to ponder o'er Of one we so loved while living, And bow at the cross he bent before, His heart's pure incense giving. I76 MOVING BEFORE THE BODY. Think upon him in temptation's hour, And seek, at the same rich source, Strength to resist its withering power, And maintain the Christian's course. And fervently seek the spirit of prayer Each night, and at dawn of day Be this petition thy daily care — " Lord, teach me how to pray !" 1838. Pwittfl Mm the gorty. r I ^HERE is a pure inspeaking voice, and com. ■■" petent to teach, Whose counsels, if thou wisely heed, thy inmost need will reach ! 1 There is a light — observe it well — no ignis-fatuus ray; Mistake it not — it came from heaven and shows thy heavenward way ! MOVING B EFOR E THE BODY. 177 And yet when lighl beside is given, and duty's course is clear, And selfishness alone creates what obstacles appear, By seeking miracles to teach what was already known, Or waiting further light, were want of faith's obe dience shown. 'Twere weak, presumptuous, vain, to seek a special revelation To show wh;il stands in bold relief and courts thy observation. Oh bring not thou in disrepute the doctrines wc revci e, By pleading them for selfish sloth, mere pretexts in- sincere ! There's deference due to those who long have walked in Wisdom's ways, Whose feet are beauteous in those courts whose entrance gates are praise ; Bui if on man too much thou lean — pierced by the broken reed — . The Lord may lake away thy staff* in thy extrcmest need. [saiah iii, 1. 16 178 MOVING BEFORE THE BOD V. With reverence view the church and own with awe its holy Head ; Its councils never yet have erred, when He those counsels led ! Wholesome and binding its decrees forth in II is power when given ; What thus is bound or loosed on earth, is bound or loosed in heaven. But take not for the church's voice their dictum, whose example Was money-changers of old time, or venders in the temple ; Nor with the mystic body that associate mass con- found, Who, on a catalogue enrolled, by common rules are bound. The body owned by Christ the Head, in Him alive remaineth ; A church composed of names enrolled, some halt and blind retaincth. And if supinely thou shouldst lie at earthly temples' porches, It may be thou wilt miss the Voice which speaketh to the churches. MOVING BEFORE THE BODY. 179 Accountability to God must ever be direct — It is not through the medium of society or sect. Summon up the ghost of Luther with Melanchthon at his side ! The Waldenses, who, for the truth their church re- jected, died ; And Fox — from the blind leaders of the blind who nobly turned — From the true and living Witness the way of life who learned ; And Woolman, who in gentleness pursued the nar- row way, Nor for the fellowship of man, nor for the church could stay ; Who bore the bondman's burden upon his prayerful heart, Till in his exercise of soul the church at length bore part : Ask these if Truth would dictate that you close your eyes on light, Till a great unwieldy body can perceive the true and right ! ISO MOVING BEFORE THE BODY. Beware the enthusiast's ultra zeal ! unbidden haste beware ! In overweening confidence may lie thy fatal snare; But let not bonds of sect keep back thy spirit from its goal, Restrain thy feet from duty's path and manacle thy soul ! Reposing on thy church's breast, forget not those who dwell In slavery's shades, and look to thee their tale of woe to tell ! By word and deed continuous plead the outraged bondman's cause, Nor implicate thyself in wrong for profit or ap- plause. Bind to thy heart the principles of thy most holy faith : Swerve not from them in Fortune's beam or Perse- cution's wrath : Bring all thy actions to the test of duty and of right: Let all thy steppings, day by day, be taken in the light; MOVING BEFORE THE BODY. l8l But fail not when thy course is clear, advancing steps to make, Because a body too supine unreal rest may take ! Had Luther waited for the Pope and all his priests to own The truths which burned within his breast, where then were Luther's crown? He who would act a faithful part the path of some must cross : Had Woolman waited for the church, the church had suffered loss ! But moving in the light of truth, the enlightening influence spread ; The sluggish body followed on, where faithful ones had led. They waited for the opening way — but when the way was clear, They pressed right onward steadily in meek yet bold career. Brave pioneers, like Joshua and old Jephunneh's son, Exploring realms of principle, to them by faith made known, 16* 1 82 WHITE ROSE AND BUD. And walking blameless in those paths they ventured to explore. Abundant fruit like Eshcol's grapes back to the camp they bore. Press on thy individual course of duty and of love ! With conscience pure, after, before, or witli the body move ! Act not from whim, caprice — but well persuaded in thy mind ; Nor harbor one ungenerous thought toward those who wait behind. m wita a Wait* §«« ami §art, A S white, in virgin purity, ■*■*' While thy life-current flows, Be thy unblemished destiny As is this lily rose. Alas ! as fleeting and as frail The flowers that deck Life's withering vale ! SPIRITUAL SIGHT AND HEARING. 1S3 If, when, as oft they will, The flowers of morning perish, In bright succession still Life's opening buds thou' It cherish, This briery wilderness of ours Shall still for thee be deck'd with flowers. Then in thy hair I'll place The emblem bud and flower, And gazing still I trace, By Fancy's magic power, Like purity and fragrance given — An incense recognized in heaven. Jtymtual $igM and gwittfl. /^~^ALL her not blind, whose mental eye ^-^ Can read her blessed title graven In the Lamb's book of life on high, The glorious muster-roll of heaven. 1 84 TO A PILGRIM. Call her not deaf, whose inward ear Her Master's still small voice can hear, Who still in silence knows the voice Which once made Mary's heart rejoice. Be mine the hearing and the seeing Which hallow dear Aunt Betsy's being. :S 5 2. 1 ^OR thee is many a solace shed -*- By Time, as on fleet wing he's passing, And mercies fall upon thy head, From Him whose hand is full of blessing. Yet oh, how cheering is the thought That this is not thy resting station : That here thy soul receiveth not Her " good things" and her consolation. Oh ! loss and dross thou countest all That hath on earth its consummation : ONE YEAR OLD. 185 Thy treasures stored with Christ thy Lord, Thou look'st to Him for consolation. Thus bitter yields transcendent sweetness ; Hope triumphs in the spoiler's hour ; Life's pledge is in life's very fleetness, Since second death can have no power. Deep flows the river of thy peace, By briers and clouds concealed and shaded, Its flow of pleasures shall increase When all the flowers of earth have faded. ©wr ft** (Old PWEET little prattler! o'er thy head ^ One smiling year has lightly sped, While — cradled in affection's bowers, And all life's thorns concealed by flowers, Thy wants supplied the livelong day, Thy nights securely slept away, To brighten up in smiles to-morrow — Thou knowst not, man is born to sorrow ! 1 86 ONEYEAROLD. Yet, cherub prattler ! who can tell What griefs e'en now thy breast may swell ? Or who can say, that brilliant eye, Which laughs before the tear is dry, Is not the index of a mind Which tastes the blight of human kind, And may have conflicts all its own, To riper, sterner years unknown ? Sweet babe ! when years have fleeted o'er thee, And all life's snares are spread before thee, Still may that clear and sparkling eye Retain its glance of purity : Still mayst thou keep that guileless brow, And heart as free from care as now ; The Giver of thy opening life Guard thee from all corrupting strife, And make thy spirit pure and bright, Fit for its home of endless light ! 835. Til K EE VEARSOLD. 187 BOY ! 'tis the morning of life with thee ; Docs not the day dawn gloriously? Seems not the world, in its promise bright, Basking before thee in dazzling light? "lis a fleeting show ! There is much of Miss, But there's more of intensest bitterness ' I could bid thee gather the morning dew, Sparkling in sunlight, and brightly pure; I could tell thee of pleasures that cheat the view, And permanent joys, which forever endure ; But my sermon would fall on a heedless ear, And small would the profit be, Charley, I fear. Jen chances to one, in my soberest style Thou wouldst make a grimace and compel me to smile, Or join me in concert with innocent prattle, Or perchance, in the midst, drown my voice with a rattle. l8S r II u E E v EARS OLD. No, no, Charley, no, I'll not preach to thee now, And throw sermons away on such youngsters as thou ; I would rather bestow my sage precepts on those Who set me, for thy sake, on murdering prose, And bid them to cherish and polish the gem, The exquisite jewel entrusted to them ; To train thee the pathway of truth to discern, And never to teach, what thou'lt have to unlearn j To hail and develop, and wisely direct, Each effort of juvenile intellect. But that too were idle — the love which they bear Is a pledge of their ceaseless and tenderest care ; So I may as well throw by my paper and pen, Nor write disquisitions for embryo men. 1837. EIGHTY -SIX. 189 TV /TATERNAL friend,* with softened hearts we -L*-*- hail thy natal day, And bless His name who, here in bonds, prolongs thy peaceful stay. For thee 'twere better far to go and be at rest forever, Than with thy loved ones here to wait beside the swelling river. But He who trod the way before, and hath prepared thy mansion, Where visions of untold delight shall glad thy heart's expansion, Where peace, not given as gives the world, shall yield exhaustless treasures, And with a river's ceaseless tide, shall flow ecstatic pleasures — * S. J. S., a mother in Israel, who died at the ripe age of ninety years. 17 IQO EIGHTY-SIX. Well knows that thy continuance here is needed still by them Who seek thy guardian aid, the tide of hindering things to stem. Thy sweet example still we crave and still from life we hold thee, Though well we know thy Saviour's arms are stretch.- ing to enfold thee. We need thee yet; how could we spare thy calm and cheerful spirit, Which, centred in the Source of Good, doth love and peace inherit ! The church above hath stores of bliss, but service here remaineth j Our tottering ark, the fragrant prayer of such as thou, sustaineth. Then deign to spare a few short years, — fruition will not miss them, — Their tedium we will strive to wile, and heaven's foretaste shall bless them. 1854. E. P. G. I9I <&. & «. THERE'S a test for the true fine gold ! A test, tho' delicate, sure ! By an imperceptible touch 'Twill show that the metal is pure. There's a test for the true, true gold ! When you take it at unaware You see incontestible proof That the finest of Ophir is there. Yet the soul never knew it was tested ; It gave no unwonted sign ! As the rose never felt 'twas exhaling The sweetness it could not confine. 192 THE ANOINTED LOCK mu gutointetl Xocft. Written a few years previous to the death of Stephen Grellet. A RELIC — not from classic land to tell of glory- fled ; Memorial — not of king, or saint, or bard, or hero dead; A simple lock of silvery hair from an anointed head. Not one where unction ran in waste, as on the mon- arch's shield Vilely, as worthless, cast away upon Gilboa's field. Still fights the veteran valiantly in " the good fight of faith;" Still, dying daily, bears a life not to be quenched in death; Still walks the servant in the way his Master meekly trod ; Still feeds the sheep, and pours the balm, and gives the praise to God ; THE ANOINTED LOCK. 193 Still wave his living locks, and there the anointing still abides, For in his heart the grace of God, not given in vain, presides. And tho' no bishop reads his name in his assured " succession," He bears the true apostle's seal, by our High Priest's impression. Those hairs with those of Russia's lord, blended in close embrace, Shone in truth's fearlessness before the Roman pon- tiff's face; Kings, queens, and princes have beheld, and known their empire poor To what, as Christ's ambassador, he taught them to secure ; They have been looked upon in love by earth's selectest sons, By thousands now forever safe among heaven's ransomed ones. Before the meek anointed brow this lock once shaded o'er The ruthless pirates of the sea have sheathed the sword of war ; 194 THE ANOINTED LOCK. People in Romish error veiled and superstition's night, With wonder heard his lips explain the true inshining Light. In caves and strongholds of the rocks, the sons of Levi listened ; In the thronged synagogue he spake while crystal tear-drops glisten' d In eyes of those whose ancestors once wept by Babel's waters : To hear his words, in earnest groups, came Judah's loveliest daughters. The Ethiop race in Indian isles as saint revere him yet, And to their children teach the name they never can forget. But valueless the relic still, and profitless the servant ; 'Twas but his duty he performed, his Master's law observant : 'Twas not himself he preached, and not to him should point our gaze, Save as his footsteps follow Him he honors and obeys. THE ANOINTED LOCK. 1 95 Wisdom was gray hairs unto him before his locks were whitened : Long since, to cheer his pilgrim way, the Pisgah vision brightened. His loved compeers have left his side to cleave heaven's arch before him, And from abodes of bliss e'en now, methinks shed influence o'er him. When pain his earthly house invades with keenest darts of anguish, His soul the peace of God pervades — not then faith's pinions languish : Thro' the rent veil he looks j that view ! 'twere worth a world to gain it ! What a memento, could this lock but spur us to obtain it ! 1st mo., 1849. 196 NOT DESERTED $*w tiftttfl, $\u will ft* Xjcft Jatfwlw mu\ I mo. 27, 1849. Exclamation of B. Seebohm during his American mission, on hearing tidings of his wife being called from home on reli- gious service. "XT OT parentless the child of prayer, **■ ^ For the Lord's work forsaken ! He who is faithful, to His care The precious trust hath taken : Not short His arm, nor dull His ear, Thy babes to save, thy prayers to hear. He camps about them, as the hills Jerusalem surround ; A sure defence from threatening ills His ancient wing is found. Safe in the hollow of His hand, Who can pluck thence thy darling band ? NOT DESERTED. IQ? And thou, and she, thy partner loved, Can trust to Him your treasure, Whose faithfulness you oft have proved And could not dare to measure : Vain, without Him, your training skill : Without you, they've a parent still. Press on then, sowers of the word ! Your precious burden bearing, And, strong in weakness, o'er the sward Cast seed with hand unsparing ; And wait in faith the seed's increase : Trust for your promised sheaves of peace. Tho' not at once to sow and reap To husbandmen is given, The earth its precious trust will keep Till influences from heaven Bring tender blade and greener shoot, The ripening ear, the garnered fruit. Move on, in faith's obedience, move ! Ye go at the King's charges, And prove the riches of that love Which, as it spreads, enlarges ; 198 NOT DESERTED. And from the treasury's ample store Things new and old in wisdom pour. Water the flocks, from that glad stream Whose springs in Him arise, Whose mirrored image lends the beam Which on its surface lies; And they who drink that lustrous tide, The Source shall in their hearts abide. Dear friends, if He who called you forth. Should " need" the guardians left, Deem not your lambs of priceless worth Of shepherd's care bereft : Tho' going with you and before, All you have left, He lingers o'er. VICTORIOUS OVER DEATH. 199 /"\H Death ! thy sting is not for those ^-^ Who sweetly in thy sleep repose, When rapture to their souls is given And power to " cleave the vault of heaven !' The sting is ours who linger here, Bereft of those we held most dear ; But God can consolation give To those who die and those who live. Resigned to Him, the soul hath power To triumph in that awful hour, And those whose brief probation ends, And those who watch departing friends, Alike may say, the victory won, " Thy blessed will, O Lord, be done !" Faith (evidence of things not seen), Pierces the clouds that intervene. The Holy Comforter is given, A messenger of peace from heaven, And God Himself will dry the eyes Of those who stay and those who rise. 2d mo. 20, 1839. 200 TO A SISTER COUSIN. $0 it $x$ttx (g>nm$i\x on Iter gepavtmt for I "^ARE thee well, sweet coz, since thou fain wilt *~ go! May happiness ride on the breezes that blow. Though they waft thee away from those scenes of delight Which Memory shall paint thee unchangingly bright. Away o'er the deep ! and may kindliest gales Gently follow thy course, softly dwell in your sails, And the Spirit that rules o'er the land and the sea Extend His protection to us and to thee. May the waves lightly bound as your vessel flits o'er, And thy eyes quickly rest on thy Canaan's shore, Where the heart of a father is bounding to meet thee, And the ardent embrace of a father shall greet thee ! And tell him, when joy shall permit thee to speak, When the tears of delight cease to flow on thy cheek, TO A SISTER COUSIN. 201 When your tale shall be told, whether doleful or pleasant, And love's eager questionings ceased for the present, Then tell him of those, who, while life still remains, Must largely partake of his joys and his pains; That the tide of affection flows warmly as ever, That the chord is untouched which no distance can sever, Nor time's adverse changes, but firmly remains So long as the life-current flows in our veins. But he knows that we change not, that ours is a race Whose love_ cannot alter with fortune or space, And this is our pledge that, with tender emotion, Th ou wilt think of the friends thou hast left o'er the ocean, Who forget not thy name in their holiest devotion. Thou art seeking a land where perfection in art Half stifles the exquisite glow of the heart, Yet Nature shall spread out her charms for thee there Enough to remind thee of what she was here.. Wherever the region of space extendeth, Munificent Nature her magic lendeth. 18 202 TO A SIS T E R COUSIN. Mountain, and forest, and purling stream, The cloud that laughs in the gay sunbeam, Whisper, whatever our lot may be, That there's something blest in our destiny. There is not a nook so secluded, on earth, That we may not peruse the high tale of our birth, In the page of creation so gorgeously spread With the gems of the universe, over our head. Nature dwells everywhere — everywhere smiling: She laughs from behind the black frowns of the storm, She rides on the waves of old Ocean, beguiling, And lending a charm to his direst form. How grace blends with grandeur, she points to our view, How softness with sternness and majesty too ; How the beautiful rainbow, the spear of the sod, Arc tinctured and framed by the finger of God. But the land thou art leaving she claims as her own. Art yields her the palm, for she reigneth alone; She rears on the infinite ocean her throne; She rests on " the Highlands," her sceptre of power; She makes in the evergreen forest her bower; TO A si STER COUSIN 203 She waves o'er the prosper t her magical wand, And where'er the eye roves, 'tis a beautiful land. Not Winter himself can disrobe her, but only A few brilliant gems from her bosom he steals ; Nor most in those scenes so romantic and lonely Dear Nature her loveliest magic reveals; Foi she mirrors herself in such hearts and such eyes That she sees her own (harms there, and wanders abroad, And spreads them about, o'er the earth and the skies, To the mo< kery of man, and the glory of (iod. And this home of thy youth shall still smile to invite thee — When the splendors of England shall cease to delight thee, Or the cause of thy absence no longer remain — To trace back thy steps o'er the ocean again. And the friends of thy youth — but ah. where will they be? Who shall wait here to welcome thee, none can foresee. As time hastens onward some changes will rise : Perchance — but a truce to each gloomy surmise. 204 TirE TELLTALE FACE, We cannot look into the future, nor say That the blossom will last when the stem dies away. Adieu! there is something that brightens our grief; Hope softens the parting word, whispering relief. There's a pang in this parting which words cannot tell, Yet there's bliss in the feeling that hallows farewell. 1836. Site $>MMt imc. \T EVER talk to me of a telltale face **• Where Feeling maketh her throne, While thou sportest thyself, with an air and a grace, A telltale face of thy own, sweet girl, A telltale face of thy own. A guileless telltale face of thy own, Which cannot its secrets keep ; And the secrets thy lips would fain disown, From those laughing eyes of thine peep, sweet gir- From those laughing eyes of thine peep. THE TELLTALE FACE. 205 Aye, those laughing eyes, I read it there, Tho' thy mouth is drawn down the while, All sober and prim, with a doleful air, To repress its natural smile, sweet girl, To repress its natural smile. Shall 1 tell thee the tale they tell to me? 'Tis partly replete with fun ; Yet, methinks, should I sing it over to thee, Like a zephyr away thou wouldst run, sweet girl, Like a zephyr away thou wouldst run. It tells me that girlhood's guileless hours O'er an unscathed heart flit by, That thy fancy dwelleth in fairy bowers, And is just about learning to fly, sweet girl, And is just about learning to fly. And it tells me a tale of deeper feelings That chasten thy innocent glee, That sympathy's holy and blest revealings Can open thy heart like a key, sweet girl, Can open thy heart like a key. 18* 206 THE TELLTALE FACE. And it tells to me, that telltale face, Some things I will keep to myself, And I'll give them a quiet resting-place On memory's secret shelf, sweet girl, On memory's secret shelf. May that telltale face be an index ever Of a mind as pure as now, And the need of dark concealment, never Disguise thy innocent brow, sweet girl, Disguise thy innocent brow. When the spoiler, Time, shall impair its grace, May it bear the impress of truth, And beam with the beauty of holiness, And be lovely in age, as in youth, sweet girl, And be lovely in age as in youth. CONVOLVULUS. MORNING-GLORY. 207 T HE glory of Morn is a young spirit, given In its beautiful freshness, to duty and heaven. The glory of Noon is a life of cross-bearing, A spirit the marks of the Crucified wearing, In meridian vigor its treasure still bringing To the city where seraphs their anthems are singing! And a forehead serene, with its silver locks shining, Holy hope and firm faith as the day is declining, With a vision of rest as from Pisgah's top given, And a heart fixed on God, are the glory of Even ! 2o8 TO ANNE. $0 %mxt. TTARINK of the cup of joy -^^^ With a light and gladsome brow, And a spirit like Zephyrj free ! Let bliss be thy heart's employ ! 'Tis the dew of morning, which now Sparkles for thee ! And it falls as pure as the earliest dew Which distilled on the plains when the earth was new, And slept in the cells of the first formed flowers, Ere a blight had fallen on Eden's bowers, Or ever a perishing petal faded, Or sin or sorrow the young world shaded. Go forth with a buoyant tread ! The world is a flowery mead, Where flowers thy footsteps press. Luxuriate whilst thou can, Ere Time, with his withering ban, "Mar it to wilderness." TO ANNE. 209 Thy foot is too light to be pierced by the thorn, And little thou heedest the clouds of morn. Rejoice in thy radiant youth, Its fervency, freshness, and truth, And that holy talisman spell Which lingers on girlhood's heart and brow, And preserves young spirits as fresh as thou ; Oh guard it well ! That talisman spell is purity : It will make the mists of contagion flee ; And the Holy Spirit will deign to dwell With the pure in heart, And visions of bliss even here impart. And walk thou in Wisdom's ways, Now in thy early days, Nor tread in Pleasure's erratic course, Which must be retraced with acute remorse, When thy youth's wild pulse shall at length subside, And thy chastened spirit be sanctified. Let holiness ever thy life adorn ; With the robe of the Sinless thy soul adorn, And as day declineth, thy spirit free Shall witness a blood-washed purity. 2IO DEDICATION FOR AN ALBUM. initiation Ux m gMmtu. " For the Lord seeth not as man seeth — for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart." i Sam. xvi. 7. r^vEAR friend, we dedicate to thee -*-^ This altar shrine : Each offering that here we see Is wholly thine. Its very name is purity, And sacred is its part, The record book of Memory, The tablet of the heart. And pure must be this record book, This tablet free from stain : A blot herein thou wouldst not brook, Or aught that could profane. 'Tis for an emblem of thy heart : Oh let thy heart be free From aught which could a trace impart To mar its purity ! DEDICATION FOR AN ALBUM. 211 Thy friends will turn these pages o'er, And smile to see the traces Of poet's fire, the sage's lore, The pencil's mimic graces ; And thou wouldst blush if any penned A thought, or word, or line, Which could the purest eye offend, In this fair book of thine. Oh ponder! for a purer Eye Doth thy heart's pages scan : Ponder ! Omniscient Deity Seeth not as man ! Lady ! He looketh on the heart ! Oh let His light divine Irradiate the inmost part Of His own shrine ! For nought corrupting can endure That searching, holy light ! How blest to have the bosom pure — Pure in His sight ! Then in that shrine record this prayer "Thy kingdom come !" And be this motto blazoned there — "Thy will be done!" 212 TO L. G. ON HER PASSING MEETING. ®cr gl. <&. ok to* "gawtafl tflMitofl." A S in our humble temple's aisle this morn I saw **■ thee stand, And give in bridal loveliness thy plighted maiden hand ; In beautiful propriety, before thy father's tribe, Perform the ceremonial rite the appointed rules prescribe, And tell, with calm and placid mien and sweet, in- genuous tone, The step thou mean'st to take with him who claims thee for his own — The thoughts of days remembered still, tho' years have since passed by, Came o'er me till the tender tear stood trembling in my eye. I blest you with 2, f rater glow — I breathed a fervent prayer, That He whose sanction you have asked would bless you with His care. SUN DRAUGHTS, 2I 3 May He incline your heart to Him — direct your steps aright — Be your unerring Monitor, your faithful guiding Light ! 1840. J?uw §vm$Ut$. A FRAGMENT. \A/ HEN Dan A P olI ° q uen ches thirst Wi' stagnant pool or ocean's brine, His draughts are pure,* as when at first Gushed the clear streams in Eden's clime, Pure as the dew-drops o' the mornin' Ilk flower an' leaf like gems adornin', Pure as the aqueous vapors there Whilk form the clouds in upper air, * In the process of vaporization, the impure sediment always remains; of course the draughts of the sun are pure, J 9 214 LUMINOUS SEED. On whilk his rays sae brightly glaw, Whilk in his evenin' radiance shaw Like piles o' gowd or banks o' snaw — Sae, sonsie frien', be thine the power, While life's black bogs ye' re passing owre, Wi' like perfection to distil, To choose the guid, refuse the ill, An' when ye reach life's cloudless even, Like that pure vapor, rise to heaven. POW the word. " Light is sown for the right- ^ eous, and gladness For the upright in heart;" and tho' darkness and sadness Awhile may attend on the pathway of these, The blissful seed planted will grow and increase, Until joy in the Lord shall supplant every sorrow, And light uncreated no lustre shall borrow. 'Twill illumine the path of the faithful, and grow ; As they follow its ray more distinctly 'twill glow : DOUBLE RAINBOWS. 215 From the face of the Fountain of Light 'tis reflected, And 'twill go on and shine till the day is perfected. On the way of the righteous that light shall be poured, Until they shall themselves, become " light in the Lord." Each of J. Hodgkin's two visits to West Hill was welcomed by a double sunset Rainbow. D Y an augury twice spoken, -^ By a twofold signal dear, By the dual rainbow token, It is well that he was here. Was it for a guest expected, That the sunlight was dissected, And the gorgeous tint-rays seven In blended hues streaked heaven ? 2l6 DOUBLE RAINBOWS. Such a cloud was o'er us darkening ! Such a storm was beating round ! And our ears had just been hearkening To the pealing thunder's sound : And the Day-god had sunk from us, When behold ! the bow of promise Spread out before our vision A scene that beggar'd Titian. The sunbeams just receded, Caught back for double duty ! As tho' Dame Nature needed Unseasonable beauty, Or chose, by signal presage, To speak the darling message, Tho' Sin brings gloom and sadness, Yet Grace can gild with gladness; That tho' the storm be glooming, Yet Mercy can dispel it, And beautiful the coming Of him sent forth to tell it; THAT FIRE-FLY. 217 To publish free salvation To erring church and nation ; To say (tho' man disdaineth His sway) the true King reigneth ! 6th mo. 26, 1 86 1. At the first serial evening meeting of Burlington, 7th mo. 1st, i860. A S in the summer twilight , *■ Sat solemnly the church, The shade of evening deepened, Suggestive of a torch, A darling little fire-fly Came to supply our lack, In line, and curve, and angle, Winging its luminous track. 2l8 THAT FIRE-FLY. It paused before the Elders, And saw them well disposed ; On Harrison's expansive brim A moment it reposed ; It sparked salute to S. R. S. ; It beamed on E. P. G., And on her cap and on her lap It lingered lovingly. But still her introverted gaze Its fire-works could not lure ; She needed not the outward rays, Whose inward light burned pure. Then vaulting o'er the speaker's head, With halo calm and bright, On Lady Hannah next it shed Its pleasant tranquil light. No need of light from thee up here ! Glance yonder through the mirk : See if those men of many cares Keep bright the heavenly spark. A FRAGMENT. Hint to those matrons that they shed Pure lustre, eve and morning, And to these virgins that their lamps Should aye be trimmed and burning. Beautiful fly ! a lesson wise / 'Twill teach whoe'er attends it : Dear tho' the light of nature be, The light of grace transcends it. 219 ET this thy watchword be, — ' In every varied trial That waits for thee ; Whether 'mid Pleasure's flattering snares Or every day's distracting cares: Self-denial ! I do not bid thee throw away Thy honest treasure ; I would not have thee to delay Innocent pleasure ; TO M. S. H. I would not have thy glowing heart Less bright and glad than now thou art ; I would not have thee to reject One blessing given : I would not have thee to neglect Health — that rich boon of heaven ; But to renounce each wish and aim That checks religion's hallowed flame. ®* P- ». i. T)LESS the day of thy birth ! *~? True, thou hast known sorrow- But life is a boon of worth, And there's a glorious morrow ! Without to-day with its cloud, To-morrow never could be ; And sorrow's the present shroud Of endless felicity ! Thy mission in life is sweet, And many a saint could tell Thou hast washed the disciples' feet, And honored their Master well ; TOM.S.H. 221 Approvingly He confesses The service as done to Him, And the blessing wherewith He blesses No one can foil or dim. Give thanks for the love surprising That flies to thy fond caress ; The dutiful sons arising Their gentle mother to bless. Thanks for the spell around thee, Esteem, serenity, peace ; The smile of the Lord hath found thee, Earnest of Joy's increase. Bless the day of thy birth ! Seed of gladness and light, Sown for thee in the earth, Germinate thro' the night ! Till Eden's rapturous breath Burst the seed to sight ! Hail the day of thy death, Birthday of joy and light ! 222 TO E. H. S. la «. 1. 9. " Tho' watchful, 'twas not to defame me, Nor mute, that the world might belie." — Byron. /^\H, there's nothing more noble on earth ^-^ Than the heart of a true, true woman ! You may miss her from halls of mirth But she's present at Duty's summon : And you can't overrate the worth Of a true, true woman. Child of a noble sire,* And worthy of such a race, The good and the wise admire As they welcome thy coming pace. Adversity's stern ordeal Is an unmistakable test To distinguish the false from the real, True friendship from friendship professed. Do they tell me 'tis all an ideal? I can point to a faithful breast. * J u dg e Hallowell. TO A BELOVED RELATIVE. 223 And my spirit has leaped to bless thee, And I crave that the Lord of life May before His hosts confess thee, At the end of thy mortal strife : With the words, "Well done," address thee, In tones with approval rife. 3d mo. 29, 1849. $0 a Mm& IWativ?. *" I ^HOU askest why my songs I pour -*■ Freely for others, and pass thee o'er. I'll tell thee why — 'tis a lightsome thing To pass my hand o'er the lyre, To wake the note of its softest string, To whisper an idle tale, and sing What youthful fancy's imagining May happen perchance to inspire. I carol sometimes, like the bird on the tree, With a careless, unmeaning minstrelsy; 2 24 TO A BELOVED RELATIVE. But the heart is a lyre too holy and dear To be tampered and trifled with — think not I wear Its strings out for those who pass idly along, And the tribute obtain of a courteous song. 'Tis a graver matter to waken its chords ! And its feelings can rarely be uttered in words. But it needs not the aid of the magic spell Of Fancy dwelling in fairy bowers, And it needs not the minstrel's song to tell The depth of affection that lasts like ours ! And it needs not his touch to waken the string That vibrates for thee in that sacred lyre : The soul's deep love's a mysterious thing, And so long as it lasts, that viewless wire Shall ever utter a tender tone, And thy answering breast the notes shall own. :8 3 2. DEATH OF AN ONLY SISTER. 22£ Ijwn t\u §flrtft of aw only jRrttf. /^VH, who that ever tasted grief would lose the ^^ joy we borrow From scenes that render dear to us the hour of deepest sorrow? Or who would not in loneliness and sad seclusion languish, Rather than quite forget those scenes of thrilling, heartfelt anguish ? It does the spirit good sometimes to turn aside from pleasure, While Memory gleans from past delights, and e'en from woe, a treasure, To turn away from Fashion's train, the young and buoyant-hearted, And call to mind endearing traits of loved ones long departed. Shade of the dear and lovely one whose pure, un^ sullied spirit Was fitted for that rest in bliss the pure in heart inherit, 20 2 26 DEATH OF AN ONLY SISTER. For whom, as years revolve, with deep yet chastened grief we mourn — How could we yield thee to the tomb ! how could such loss be borne ! What was it, when the tender ties that held thee here were riven, And we beheld thee tune thy harp and plume thy wings for heaven — What was it, in that awful hour which severed all the ties Of near relationship of heart, of nature's sympa- thies, Sustained us as we wept, and bade us sorrowing kiss the rod, And strengthened us to feel the love and mercy of our God ? It was the same Almighty Power which bids the rainbow rise To promise mercy while the storms of judgment gloom the skies. It was His living presence felt, His arm of love revealing, Which silenced every murmuring thought, and stilled each selfish feeling. DEATH OF AN ONLY SISTER. 227 We dared not mourn — the hymn of praise and grati- tude was given ; Like Moses on the mount, we stood, ''quite in the verge of heaven." And as, for thee, the sting of death gave place to holiest joy, And the last hours thou spent on earth seemed free from earth's alloy, To us the sting was softened too, and 'twas a chastened grief When for ourselves we wept and found in tears a sweet relief. We knew our loss to thee was gain, we knew thy hope and faith, We saw thee brightening with decay and beautiful in death ; A ray from that celestial realm of uncreated light Which needs not sun, nor moon, nor stars, by Deity made bright, Illumed thy spirit in that hour and cheered it on its way From the dim twilight of our star, to heaven's eternal day. 228 DEATH OF AN ONLY SISTER. Oh! ours is not the worldling's grief, a dark, un- welcome thing Which comes intrudingly to cloud each pleasant picturing. It is a privilege to dwell on every hallowed scene Which memory guards with sacredness, tho' years may intervene. Affection's daily intercourse, the harmony of love, These make impressions on the heart, which time can ne'er remove ! I saw thee from the casement take of earth a last farewell, "Beautiful world!" thy only words, in gentle accents fell, As glancing on the prospect round, thy mild and lustrous eye Looked on the narrow scene below, then on the boundless sky. It seemed to me an angel's glance, who, from a brighter sphere, Beheld a Father's handiwork with filial love sin- cere. DEATH OF AN ONLY SISTER. 229 And still upon my hand I feel the pressure of thy fingers, And like a talismanic spell thy hallowed accent lingers, The fond confiding playfulness, the earnestness of love, The holy watchword that should guide to endless rest above. Thou bid me heed (meanwhile my heart was burst- ing thus to leave thee) The dictates of that voice within, that never would deceive me. And when the closing hour arrived, remained one earthly feeling, A love thy filial piety had been thro' life reveal- ing. That hallowed word, the earliest sound uttered by infant tongue, It was the last of mortal names our dying seraph sung ; And when the power of utterance failed as nature's strength grew less, A feeble motion of the lips sweetly essayed a kiss, 20* 230 DEATH OF AN ONLY SISTER. The print of love, a blessed seal to the assurance given That she who cherished thee on earth, should join her child in heaven. There was not in that parting kiss the slightest trace of sorrow; It was a placid, fond adieu, to meet again to- morrow. That glorious morrow soon shall dawn : meanwhile our thoughts of thee Shall blend with all our holiest prayers upon our bended knee. Sweet image of departed love, which lives in memory's light, Come in thy angel visits still and flit before my sight ! In all the purity of yore, in all a sister's love, To reprimand my worldly thoughts, and point to things above. And may a holier Power assist to purify my breast, And make it a fit biding-place for such a heavenly guest ; TO MY BROTHER 2 3 T And may we yield our willing hearts obedient to His sway Whose grace and whose atoning blood can wash our' sins away. '835. Sto my Stttfto* On his arriving at the age of 2 1 . A S side by side our little barks came down the •*" *- stream of Time, Oft have I hailed thy natal day, but ne'er till now in rhyme ; And ne'er till now, tho' fondly oft thy visage I would scan — I ne'er till now beheld thy face and looked upon— a man ! Well, mayst thou grow a Solomon, and rich in earthly things, But most of all increase in that which true content- ment brings. 232 TO MY BROTHER. For tho' Ambition's calls be loud, and Wealth's allurements great, And doubts, and fears, and hours of gloom may on the Christian wait, Less care has he, and more of joy, and joys of purer kind — Ambition may to glory lead, but not to peace of mind. May science from thy humble dome give forth a glowing light, But may humility's green shade half hide it from thy sight. May friends like clusters on the vine, which drop in winter off, Or butterflies on summer days, forever keep aloof. But those who stand misfortune's test, oh bind them to thy heart ! This life is not a scene of rest, and grief will form a part, And when adversity appears, 'tis then the heart can prove The healing balm of sympathy, the worth of genuine love. TO MY BROTHER. 233 Thy heart is warm and tender yet, but oh it may grow cold ! Then let thy Maker fashion it in His most perfect mould. Rely upon Him, and thou' It find security from harms, Relax each rebel nerve, and lie quiescent in His arms ! May He direct thy will in full accordance with His own, Bless thee and lead thy steps thro' life to heaven's eternal throne ! My choicest jewel to thy care confidingly I trust, Each to the other, and to Him most holy, wise, and just. Full well I deem thy noble heart will feel that treasure's worth ; Full well thou knowest ive are but links which bind her to the earth. Yet oft, from every earthly care, her thoughts aspir- ing rise; The brightest link has been removed, and draws her to the skies. 234 T0 MY BROTHER. Oh guard that sacred treasure well, and when afar removed From one who pines in solitude, apart from those most loved, Believe, that tho' his face seem gay, the bitterness of grief Lengthens his moments into hours, and ofttimes 1 1 weeps relief. ' ' And let thy prayers ascend to Him, the all-directing One, That He will guard him from those snares he has not power to shun. Oh, must we part ! our hearts have been bound by no common ties, And they have beat in unison, and mingled sympa- thies : Fraternal love has warmed our breasts, which brothers seldom know, And time, I trust, can ne'er abate affection's ardent glow. The world will shed a withering blight, and oceans wide may sever, But our heart strings are interlaced, and can be parted, never ! TO MY MOTHER. 235 $0 my PcrtJw. On her birthday. "PROM pressing cares, from present joys, from briers and from flowers ; From ills that haunt, from blessings bright, that glad my fleeting hours ; With introverted mind I turn a retrospective gaze On precious memories of thee thro' all my former days; And not a word or deed recurs, thro' all that lapse of years, But deepens into tenderness, thy memory endears ! Maternal sacrifice of self, a spirit governed well ; Grace at the portal of thy heart stood sacred sentinel. Consistent, rational, and firm, loving, indulgent, mild — Mother, a manly heart grows soft — mother, behold thy child I 236 TO MY MOTHER. The same who in his infancy, in boyhood's giddy day, From joyous sports, from playmates loved, contented turned away To find exhaustless wealth of love, a tireless friend in thee — His loved employ, his highest joy beside his mother's knee. The same, who, in advancing youth, languished from thee apart, And, whatsoe'er his faults beside, still kept a filial heart. And in that heart, from baby hours to life's meridian day, One song of blessing and of love has lived for thee alway. Tho' other music there be heard, tho' other loves abound, Tho' his heart strings continuous wake affection's pleasant sound — Mother, one tide of melody my life long has been rushing, Which never for one moment knew obstruction to its gushing ; TO MY MOTHER. 237 Not often to the world proclaimed or given to the lyre, But known to thee and known to Him who could its notes inspire. In life's perplexities and cares — in hope's most san- guine swell — In grief's soul-darkening night of gloom — in joy's exuberant spell — Thy ready ear was ever sought, thy sympathizing heart, Still to a mother's instincts true, bore friendship's faithful part. Beyond a parent's tribute due thy varied claims ex- tend, Thy children's chosen counsellor, dear confidant and friend ; And not as tribute due, doled out, an honest debt to pay, A blessing leapeth from my heart to greet thy natal day ! Sweet mother ! To the filial heart, how doth that name express A depth of meaning and a wealth of untold tender- ness. 21 238 TO MY MOTHER. That word we shared with one who now hath joined the seraph throng ; And doth she not in Love's abode, the filial strain prolong ? When, as thy lips expressed, thy soul, with agonizing throe, Went with her to the gates of death, but could not further go, Her prophet words, " not now, but soon," thinkest thou she can forget ? With placid, calm delight, she waits their blest ful- filment yet ! And she who came, in twofold sense, her loved name to inherit, And also shares (oh, does she not ?) a portion of her spirit, Blended in one with me, can join my fond and duteous lay, Hailing with cheerful tenderness our mother's natal day. Accept the blessing which we pour — 'tis heartfelt, warm, sincere — Dost thou not feel it on its way before the post draws near ? TO MARY ALLINSON. 239 The thoughts that from ray soul flow forth with such a depth of feeling Must they upon this hand and pen rely for their re- vealing? There is a medium more direct between thy heart and ours, And there are times when spirits blend like mingled breath of flowers. 1846. $0 ?gltoy gWitOTw. On her eighty-third birthday. T OW dear in venerable age, *■* ■* The heart which still retains its youth ; After so long a pilgrimage, Not stern, tho' with experience sage, Unchilled, and pulsing still with truth. Dear aunt, thy life of self-denial, Of meek, unselfish, steadfast love, Of fortitude when keenest trial Was sent thy filial faith to prove, 240 TO MARY ALLINSON. Thy love of right, thy dedication, Serving the servants of thy King, Turning thy back on adulation, And curbing Fancy's daring wing (Called by the church in girlhood's hours To serve within the sanctuary : Still yielding thy maturer powers : Snared not by hues of wayside flowers, Faint, yet pursuing, true, tho' weary), Have not been vain ; these evidences Of faith which works by love, are treasured, Where love for love our Lord dispenses; Are noted where no false pretences Avail — where motives all are measured. And though thou knowest that all merit Belongs to Him thy debt who paid, Yet, loved one, sure thou wilt inherit His promises in mercy made. AKho' preceded o'er the river By those to thee intensely dear, TO MARY ALLINSON. 241 Thou couldst resign them to the Giver, And with the faith of a believer Serenely wait thy call to hear. Doubtless thy lines in pleasant places Have fallen to thee. Life's rich blessing, Sincerest love in hourly traces, * Affection's light, from kindred faces And loving hearts, are thy possessing. The gospel message freely spoken — The Comforter its peace to seal — In thy own breast the answering token, When faith and buoyant hope appeal. And childhood with its guileless prattle, Sunned by the kindness of thy heart — Young hearts where peace unscared can settle, Not seared as yet by life's stern battle, Nor deeply soiled by Satan's art — Attracted by thy genial kindness, • Confidingly to thee they cling, And, of thy tranquil ease oft mindless, Their joys and toys tumultuous bring. 21* 242 TO J. AND H. BEAN. They, with their parents joining, fain Would tell a love which doth not vary, Hoping to welcome oft again The birthday of their dear Aunt Mary. 1851 ®0 i. m\A i. Qtm. On embarkation for Sandwich Islands. A S swells the undulating wave, ^ ■*- So swells the large heart of the brave, Who seek the far volcanic isle, To gild it with the Gospel's smile. And He, who erst did ocean scoop, Who set therein the Hawaiian group, Who warmed your hearts with love divine, Who spake the words, "All souls are mine," Will smile His peace into your souls, When ocean's flood no longer rolls. 1S61. TO CAPT. JOHN M. WHITALL. 243 Wo tfapt. lolnt p. miinU. On the fortieth anniversary of his wedding day. r I ^IS forty years this day, and it don't seem long to me That a noble, frank sea-captain was suited to a T. And for better and for best (for he found no worse about it), He chose his Mate, a virtuous crown, with love and faith undoubted. Experience on the treacherous deep had made our captain wary, And with right Catholic taste no name would do for him but Mary ; The name had prestige, and while grace and graces all concur, Her husband's heart confidingly and safely trusts in her. 244 T CAPT. JOHN M. WHITALL. He took his Queen and' reigned as long as Solomon or David,* And neither of those kings was half as wise or well- behaved, Nor understood the priceless worth of the connubial tie, The blessed spell of peace and love in lifelong unity. And with his full cup running o'er, this day I shrewdly guess he Would rather be his father's son than the crowned son of Jesse. In ocean's swell or peaceful calm our captain's bark has glided Safely toward port, for at the helm the heavenly Pilot guided. 'Twas out at sea he found Him first, walking upon the surges, To Him through life, for pilotage, his prayer in faith he urges. * 2 Sam. v. 4; 2 Kings, xi. 42. TO CAPT. JOHN M. WHITALL. 245 Would any know the lot of him whose heart on Christ reposes? Read second chapter, seventh verse, of the fifth book of Moses.* This happy pair for forty years led in the wilderness, f Offered their sacrifice to Him who hath the power to bless ; J Who fed them all these forty years with bread direct from heaven, § And whatsoe'er they asked in faith, in faithfulness has given. This day of thankful retrospect their children rise to bless them, And bairnies' bairns, a lovely throng, spring eager to caress them : Happy to have their quiver full ; albeit at the gate, To need their filial defence, no enemies await. * For the Lord thy God hath blessed thee in all the works of thy hand ; heknoweth thy walking through this great wilderness ; these forty years the Lord thy God hath been with thee, thou hast lacked nothing. — Deut. ii. 7. f Amos, ii. 10. J Amos, iii. 15. ? Exodus, xvi. 35. 246 ON THE MARRIAGE OF H. L. With earth so bright, and heaven in sight, secure in love's requital, I know not e'er so blest a pair as M. and J. M. Whitall. Here's to their long and useful lives, exempt from all that vexes, And anniversaries like this at least for four more X's. nth mo. 5th, 1870. ©« tit* glnrrtw at f. g. • T WAKEN an unused lyre -*■ For the child of a noble sire, Who, at his gracious Sovereign's call, From the platform of right Where he stood in might In his trial of soul thro' faith's long fight, Has gone up higher Through the gates of praise and salvation's wall. ON THE MARRIAGE OF H. L. 247 Alas ! I have lost the art To waken the sound of gladness, When every emotion that thrills the heart Is chastened with sadness ; And we would not conceal the tears Which holy memories claim, Nor even when joy appears With promise for future years, Would we fail to speak his name Whose loved idea is here, A presence intensely dear, With spell of serenest peace Which doth not with time decrease, Guardian still by example's force And the light he shed on his heavenward course. Blessings be on his daughter, The high-souled and the gifted ; Be the precepts which he taught her From her memory never lifted, Nor her eye withdrawn from the hills Where help remaineth ever, Where the peace of God distils To descend in a flowing river, 248 ON THE MARRIAGE OF H. L. To glide with a gentle force, And oft in an unseen course, By the dreary path and shadow of death, And the semblance of wrath For the trial of faith, Till it gush unchecked in unbounded measure And stream in eternal rivers of pleasure. And this morning's holy vow And this morning's benediction — Seem they not more holy now From the shade of late affliction ? Gives it not a higher glow And a seal to your affection? While the servants stood before us, And the holy oil flowed o'er us, Came there not a hopeful presage As our hearts received the message ? May the simile there spoken Be through life a cherished token ; And the thought for aye abide Of the bridegroom and the bride, And that grave and mystic union, Antetype of your communion. TO JESSE HAINES. 249 s* ^tm gates, Ninety years old. OERVANT faithful and beloved, trusted at thy ^ station long, Pilgrim, coming unto Zion with unwearied heavenly song, Bending meekly with the burden of accumulating years, With thy lamp kept trimmed and burning till eternal morn appears, Of thy blessed Master's counsel both receiver and dispenser, And His love, which, while thou givest, in thy heart doth burn intenser — Hath the wilderness proved weary ? was it irksome to encompass Mountains where, detained for trespass, long the station of thy camp was ? 22 250 TO JESSE HAINES. When thine eye, by faith illumined, could discern the onward way, Wast thou grieved that Israel's armies in rebellion yet would stay ? Art thou now on Pisgah's mountain ? canst thou now perceive ahead A better day, a better land wherein our tents may spread ? Are there still faithful promises which thou to us canst read? And hast thou fresh commission still with us in love to plead ? Dear messenger of grace and truth, exemplar of Christ's love, Bright may the evening of thy day, spent in well- doing, prove; White be thy raiment, clear the tone of welcome to thy soul When o'er thy head the darksome wave that leads to life, shall roll. Be thine the white stone and the palm — tne new name and the song Which those whom thou ere long wilt join, forever more prolong ; TO A FRIEND ON REACHING MANHOOD. 25 1 The vision of the pure in heart — the uncreated Light, The love of Christ, eternal' source of holiest de- light. 9 mo., 1855. So ix £tUn& mx \n$ arriving at tint ixp *i Ptonftcwil- / T^HIS opening morn has brought to thee an era "*" in life's span ; The measured term of years has past which con- stitutes a man ; And thou hast doff'd thy boyhood's years, and they are cast away Like an out-grown and out-worn garb, the robe of yesterday. And yet, perchance, to-day will glide as yesterday has glided — It may be no impetuous pulse of youth has yet sub- sided. 252 TO A FRIEND ON REACHING MANHOOD. The toils of manhood have in part been shared by thee ere now, And manhood's cares, before to-day, have settled on thy brow. The season brings no visible change, thy sinews are no stronger, . Nor thou, perchance, a whit more sage than when one moment younger; Yet there is change — for there's a spell in noble manhood's name, Waking deep, stern, proud consciousness, kindling an ardent flame. Thy country ranks thee now among the sovereigns of the land ; A man among the race of men this day thou tak'st thy stand. Young man, a firm fraternal friend, who loved thee as a boy, Now frankly hails thy natal day — greets thee, and gives thee joy. He welcomes thee to manhood's ranks and to the* fiercer trial Of harsher mingling with thy kind — more frequei,. self-denial. TO A FRIEND ON REACHING MANHOOD. 253 With deeper, stronger, rougher surge life's current now must flow ; Its stern responsibilities are clustering round thee now. Thy bark is fairly out at sea— oh, when the billows rise, When the winds battle with thy sails, and clouds deform the skies, If then the Heavenly Mariner come walking o'er the wave, Receive the blessed Guest on board, for He hath power to save ! Yet wait not for affliction's hour, but seek Him even now — Aye, seek for His abiding-place — " Master, where dwell'st thou?" Turn to the temple of thy heart — the Word is nigh thee, there, And be like childhood, teachable, and reverent in prayer. When worldly cares engross thee most, then oft- times turn aside, And shaking earth's engrossments off, forgetting human pride, 254 TO A FRIEND ON REACHING MANHOOD. Devote an earnest hour to heaven, and ask, in simple faith, Guidance and sustenance from Him who triumphed over death. Petty vexations will not then disturb thy calm re- pose, Or scarcely ripple the pure stream in harmony that flows, Or snare thee from that spirit-watch which Christians must observe Who, from the footsteps of the flock of Christ, fain would not swerve. Then walk in manly firmness on, and meet the ills of life, Upright in form, upright in heart, and dare the moral strife : Grapple with wrong, maintain the right, and free from fraud or guile, The present guard, look forth with hope, and back- ward with a smile. 839- ANNA W. HINCHMAN. 255 TI 7E have stood where the Reaper was busy * * translating For the garden of Eden a favorite blossom. We have watched by the couch where the angels were waiting To bear a dear soul into Abraham's bosom. We have seen what a brief fleeting dream is mor- tality : We have seen that true faith is a blessed reality : We have seen how a Christian; from soul-stains all washed, In the arms of a Saviour could fall unabashed — Himself for her plea, and the death which He bore 7 Her claim for a share in His life evermore ; Every robe of her own as vile rags cast away, His righteousness only her spirit's array. When her life tide was ebbing, her lips parched with fever, And all that is seen was receding forever, 256 ANNA W. HINCH MAN. For the stream which from under the white throne is bursting, For the river of water of life she was thirsting. She listened, she panted, the accents to hear, Of a Father whose voice to her spirit was clear ; And she longed in His presence to stand unreproved Whom, not having seen, she had tremblingly loved; Unto whom, day by day, through life's wearisome task, She came for free pardon and mercy to ask, And who turned not away from her agonized throes, But made, in her sickness, her bed of repose, And suffered no shade of remorse to alloy The peace which preceded the fulness of joy. How the spirit would sink with despondence and sadness Were it not for the faith that inspires us with glad- ness ! How the shadow of death all our hopes would en- shroud, Were it not for the glory that strikes thro' the cloud ! That glory, dear spirit, it burst on thy sight, And all time's allurements were lost in its light ! ANNA W. HINCHMAN. 257 That long, clear, intense, earnest gaze into heaven — . For a vision like this was a human eye given ! Not often such glimpse is permitted to mortals Till the spirit is entering beatitude's portals. That glance — 'twas the last ! and then closed in death's blindness The eye which met ours, ever beaming with kindness; And a niche was left vacant, and tears fell like rain, And light fell away from our pathway of pain, And sadness and darkness seemed closing o'er all, And the shadow of death was Joy's funeral pall. But praises, high praise for the victory given, Robbing Death of his sting and the grave of its gloom ! Whilst we mourn for ourselves we resign thee, and even In the midst of our tears we rejoice o'er thy tomb. Alas, we exclaim, as our sorrow comes o'er us, And Ave groan for Instructress, Friend, Sister, and Daughter ; Then we think of thee joining the heavenly chorus, And Peace comes like oil upon Grief's troubled water. 258 ANNA W. HINCHMAN. And e'en while the tears from our eyelids are streaming, Those drops as they fall are with gratitude gleaming. We beheld thee, when storms threatened fearfully, doing The beautiful work which for thee was ordained ; We beheld thee, in conflict tho' faint yet pursuing ; The end of thy faith now sublimely attained. We have seen thee drink deep, and athirst still for learning; Now all lies exposed to thy purified vision ! And, knowing as known, and the secrets discerning Which the angels look into with rapture elysian, Nothing there to obstruct the free spirit's expansion From knowledge to knowledge, from glory to glory, Thou wilt blend with delight, in that heavenly mansion, With the souls who found rest in Christ Jesus before thee. Oh, limitless treasure, and rivers of pleasure, And peace flowing alvvay unstinted by measure, ANNA W. HINCHMAN. 259 No earth-soil defiling thy soul's gathered essence, And confessed by the Son in the holiest Presence. Dear Saviour ! To Thee was our cherished one precious ! To her was Thy offering for sin efficacious ! For her not in vain was Thy holy side riven ! For her not in vain Thy great ransom was given ! For her nought could serve but the robe of Thy merit, And the boon Thou bequeathest 'twas hers to inherit ! And when at Thy footstool she kneeled with heart- breaking, Thy spirit, for her, intercession was making. For her, all-sufficient Thy blest mediation ! For her, everlasting Thy perfect salvation ! 260 SOLICITUDE. 9tAUHuit. TV IT Y morning, noon, and evening prayer, -*-*-■- The midnight breathing of my spirit, Is, that the one so loved, so dear, May heavenly peace inherit. Let me commend thee, chosen, dearest, To Him who can thy conflicts calm ; Whom thou with guileless heart reverest — He will apply the balm. Yes, dear one ! Gilead's blest Physician Will shed on thee His healing power, If, taught by Him, thy heart's petition Is raised in sorrow's hour. Oh, He hath given thee life and favor, His visitation kept thy spirit ; A gracious, omnipresent Saviour Hath saved thee by His merit. SOLICITUDE. 26l Let us in hallowed concert, bend United, contrite hearts before Him, Now let our blended prayers ascend, Dearest, let us adore Him ! Father which art in heaven ! we crave Thy holy, all-sustaining arm May still direct, support, and save, And shield from harm. Oh teach us, Father, that Thy grace Is all-sufficient for our need, And in the pleasant paths of peace Our footsteps lead. And, Father, bind, cement, unite Our hearts in love which Thou canst bless, Love until death, still burning, bright With happiness. And sometimes make Thy presence known ; Inspire, attune our hearts to prayer; Bowed at the footstool of Thy throne Worshippers there ! 2 3 262 THE SILVER HAIR. And since the prayer in faith not given (Through grace which is Thy gift) is nought, Oh let the words we breathe to heaven By Thee be taught ! 1839. She Mux 3&ir. S in " my sanctum" I reclined, in my old rustic A : -£■*- chair, My little daughter brought to me a single silver hair ; The first, the sole intruder, in the silken locks that spread (By force restrained from graceful curls), o'er her sweet mother's head ; But should those tresses that I love, blanch white as winter's snow, The gentle wearer would not be less lovely then than now. THE SILVER HAIR. 263 Our lifetime covenant of love, had such a seal of peace, That every change which time can bring, must make its spell increase. When, to my cherished friends, the pale, stern mes- senger hath come, To loose the silver cord, and clothe my soul in grief and gloom, The gentle pressure of her hand, the music of her voice, Her spirit's tender sympathy, made me again rejoice: Our tears combined, and there was peace and heal- ing in their flow, And draughts of purest love had power to mitigate my woe. And when the blessed boon of health has been with- drawn awhile, And by my bed of languishing was seen her angel smile, The keenest torture life could bear, with rapturous spell was blended, When I beheld my own true love, a boon from heaven descended. 264 THE SILVER HAIR. And when that loved and cherished form, which I would fain sustain With balmy gales of ease and joy, has drooped with grievous pain, The Bounteous One, by whom to me that priceless boon was given, Fraught with a blessing richly poured, as from the opened heaven, Knows if my love abated then. The spell hath lasted well ! That silver witness hath no tale of altered love to tell ! Author of love ! adorable, unfailing Friend and Father ! We bless Thee for the gentle tie, which binds our hearts together ! And whether still to hoary age, our steps shall journey on, Thou knowest best, and ever may Thy blessed will be done ! But grant, in mercy grant, that nought may mar our sweet communion, The spell of love by Thee inspired, which crowned our nuptial union. TO M. 265 And powerless of myself to yield that fragile plant protection, Father ! to Thee I would commend my love, my soul's election ! If spared to guide her gentle steps, be Thou my strength in weakness ! If taken from her side, oh then, support her soul in meekness ! Protect her with a Father's love, and more than husband's care ! Keep her in perfect peace, when age shall silver o'er her hair ! So i*. SWEET daughter, may that emblem Dove Waft her white wing thy brow above : With olive leaves crown every hope : Fill with God's peace thy horoscope: 23* 266 IRREGULAR FRAGMENTS To all thy life her spell impart, And nestle in thy generous heart. There her congenial rest shall be At home with filial piety. 8th mo. 15, 1868. r\N the shore of the solemn sea ^-^ I have found a pure white stone- A pure white pebbly stone. Thereon was a new name graven. Joy ! joy ! it was given to me — To me was the white stone given. The Lord His jewels shall number — His stars of radiant perfection : He telleth by name the systems, The hosts dispersed thro' the heavens ; And thus by name the Good Shepherd Calleth His listening sheep. UNDYING FRIENDSHIP. 267 From other fields He brings them, His redeemed and ransomed, in safety: They go in and out and find pasture : They ascend the hill of the Lord, And stand in His holy place, Receive the blessing from on high, Righteousness from the God of their salvation ; For good is the Lord eternally, And His mercy endureth forever. ^Induing £xkn&tikiy. /^\H, the holiest spell that is born of earth, ^^ Is affection's glow ! And 'tis dearest of all, when the voice of mirth Brings only woe : When the sound of joy thrills painfully, And the spirit turneth disdainfully From aught that weareth the hue of gladness, And the world and the heart are tinged with sadness ; When death has severed the dearest ties, Or the heart has wasted its sympathies ; 268 UNDYING FRIENDSHIP. When Fashion's pursuits have in vain been tried; When wealth has deluded you, Fame has eluded you, Slander betrayed you, or malice belied ; When treacherous things have been fondly cherished, And the fibres the heart put out have perished ; When the soul's deep love has with scorn been met— There's a talisman spell in Affection yet ! Hers is a fathomless mine of treasure, And she giveth not out her love by measure; Each fountain of feeling she knoweth well, And, at her glad spell, The spirit that mourneth in desolation Gains consolation. And can we brook Beyond futurity's veil to look, And think That, when we have passed death's fearful brink, The love So with our natures interwove, Must then be o'er, And friendship gladden the spirit no more ? UNDYING FRIENDSHIP. 269 Oh, no ! the brightest, the dearest charm To friendship given, Is our faith that Love will Death disarm And live in heaven ! The spirits of those who have passed away, Whom once 'twas our boon to love, Who shine, a portion of heaven's pure ray, Smile on us from above. With angel wing they hover near us, With sweet mementos soothe and cheer us ; And they are not lost, while Memory liveth, And Reason her lamp to the mind still giveth, Unless we choose to forget their worth, And rivet our hearts upon things of earth. And those, the blessed ones, whom Faith Shall give the victory over Death, Shall know in heaven a blest reunion ; And brighter and better there will be, More full, more rapturous, more free, The heart's communion. But a different thing is love in heaven From the cheap affection at random given, 270 UNDYING FRIENDSHIP. And all the tokens on earth we wear Will not be recognized there ! The natural tie, which often binds Discordant minds, Will not be known where all is soul, And the cumbering clay has no control ; For they are not there in marriage given, But are as the angel ones of heaven. They all one common parent share, And all are brothers and sisters there. Think not the spurious love, that grows From kindred frailties, lusts, or pleasure, Will live, where love eternal flows, And nought corrupts the heavenly treasure. Or that the chance acquaintance, growing From mingled lore, or mirth's o'erflowing (Tho' often bright the spell, and warm), Will ripen to a tie too firm, When nature fails, for death to sever — A friendship that shall last forever. The love that death will not efface, Must have a firm immutable base ; UNDYING FRIENDSHIP. 271 But when 'tis from the fountain flowing Of love divine (for God is Love), No ebb or diminution knowing, 'Twill be forever beaming, glowing, More near its source, in bowers above. Thrice blessed the spirit ties, commenced in time, Destined to endless union so sublime ! Joined to the Lord, absorbed in Jesus' merit, Pure souls become one spirit,* Escaped with Him beyond the grave's control \ And, for perpetual union after death, Liveth His word whose vivifying breath Made man a living soul. " Father, I will that they whom Thou hast given Be with Me where I am and see My glory !"f Most precious words ! at each " memento mori" A rainbow pledge that souls asunder riven, In Him rejoined, with Him shall dwell in heaven. The spirits of the blest are ever near ! Who, that has known the luxury of feeling, Would chase the holy sadness o'er him stealing, And wipe the tear ? * 1 Cor. vi. 17. f John xvii. 24. 272 UNDYING FRIENDSHIP. Or, for an undimm'd eye and joyous heart, Bid them depart ? And put away the memory of the past, Memory of pleasure far too pure to last ? No ! as, when these frail forms have perished, We hope in memory to be cherished, Still let us love to dwell upon The endearing traits of loved ones gone, And deem it aye a holy thing To seraph intellects to cling. And let us one another hold As beings of a day, Passing away ! Soon, soon to be enrolled With those to be remembered, who depart And leave no trace on earth, save in the mourner's heart. And let not faction's bitterness Too closely on our spirits press, Or the vexations of an hour, Ever have power THE HIGHWAY OF THE UPRIGHT. 273 To break the holy harmony of life, To engender strife, Ruffle the stream of human love, One star from Friendship's galaxy remove ! Site ligtttvujj of tftt liJi'tflttt. Proverbs xvi. 17. I" PANT, I pant for the heavenward path, -*■ Which never the vulture's eye hath seen, Where the forest king, in his cruel wrath, Hath never been. It leadeth away from the snares of vice, From the haunts of corroding avarice, From vanity's shows which the soul entice, From malice, and falsehood, and lust, and all That subdueth the spirit to sin's dark thrall. It leads to the city whose streets of gold Even the militant saints behold ; 24 274 THE HIGHWAY OF THE UPRIGHT. In the midst whereof, with healing rife For the deadly wound of Zion's daughter, Stands in its beauty the tree of life, Mirrored within the balsamic water Proceeding from under the throne of God, The true and the only baptismal flood, Whose streams, that in crystalline clearness roll, With healing are fraught for the sin-sick soul. Oh, I long in that city of light to dwell, Where never a transient sunbeam fell, Nor glimmering ray from moon or star ! Unspeakably brighter, more glorious far That holy city's undazzling ray 1 For He is its glory who lighted the sun, And they who the heavenward race would run Must enter by Him the Way. There is a path upon earth which no bird knowelh, Where the holy zephyr of Eden bloweth, And the tree of healing and water of life Refresh the spirit redeemed from strife. The pilgrims who throng that unseen way Are guided by no deceptive ray : THE HIGHWAY OF THE UPRIGHT. 275 They have made the unerring Guide their choice, And they cannot follow the stranger's voice. To be joined to Christ, and in Him to live, They would share His baptism, drink His cup, Renouncing the pleasures which sin can give, To walk in the way by Him cast up : And joined unto Him, as they walk by faith, They see, at the end of their pilgrim path, The realm of inconceivable bliss, Where the weary have rest from the toils of this : And they hear at times, in prophetic tone, The welcome greeting, " Well done — well done !" And they catch some notes from the rapturous song Which is learned by none but the ransomed throng: And thus attuned, while they walk through time, To the harmony caught from that heavenly chime, They make in their hearts, unto Him they love, Melody, heard with approval above. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 785 291 7,