P s 
 
 'sJ^ 
 
 
 sy> 
 
LIBRARY OF^ CONGR ESS. 
 
 '♦^« V. . _ iopiingl^l !f 0. 
 
 Shelf _._ST.... 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 / 
 
,^ 
 
-J^ 
 
 ^enr^ j^. (Jlogere. 
 
SOUVENIR. 
 
 POEMS 
 
 ?3 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY H. ROGERS. 
 
 BUFFALO, N. Y. : 
 THE WENBORNE-SUMNER CO 
 
^7 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 
 
 1889, 
 
 By henry H. ROGERS. 
 
::) 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Grandpa's Christmas Ghost, ...... 5 
 
 AUTl^MN, 16 
 
 Revhcw of a Batchelor's Ball, iS 
 
 Aunt Jane 19 
 
 To A Gradu.\te, ......... 21 
 
 Country Cijusins, 23 
 
 Musical Troubles, 25 
 
 Discontent 28 
 
 Inauguration Day, ........ 29 
 
 An Old Maxim, . 31 
 
 Gaffer Baldwi.n', ........ 33 
 
 A Monitor, 55 
 
GRANDPA'S CHRISTMAS GHOST 
 
 I'VE heard of ghosts, and who has not? 
 In days gone by and near forgot, 
 And folks I've known who'd show the spot 
 
 Where they have seen 'em ; 
 And thrilhng tales they tell of what 
 There passed between 'em. 
 
 Perhaps the day is coming yet 
 When goblins may my nerve upset. 
 These sixty years I've never met 
 
 A real sample 
 But once perhaps. — I'll not forget 
 
 The queer example. 
 
GRANDPA'S CHRISTMAS GHOST. 
 
 Just after Christmas day it fell. 
 I'd been to town some fowl to sell, 
 And staying late, — I fear to tell 
 
 Of playhouse pleasure, — 
 I made for home somewhere near twel' 
 
 In jogging measure. 
 
 The way was dark, — for dim snow-light 
 But helps to guess of things aright, — 
 And in the still and lone mid-night, 
 
 Odd notions breeding, 
 There seemed an ear both left and right 
 
 My progress heeding. 
 
 This came of thinking 'bout the show, 
 Of course, if right it was to go, — 
 A dollar spent, — or tarry so. 
 
 My wife alarming. 
 Besides, the play was full of woe 
 
 And shameful harming. 
 
GRANDPA'S CHRISTMAS GHOST. 
 
 A waking cock the hour had named, 
 And faithful dogs their watch proclaimed ; 
 A man I met who looked ill-framed — 
 
 From such preserve us. 
 Indeed one hardly could be blamed 
 
 If slightly nervous. 
 
 Mile after mile we left behind 
 
 Of road and farm and sky combined, 
 
 And then a stretch of forest lined 
 
 Our way compactly. 
 What happened here I'm now inclined 
 
 To tell exactly. 
 
 Old Bess, my mare, had restive grown. 
 With reckless zeal to dodge was prone 
 And sniff the air, though well was known 
 
 The woodland highway. 
 I thought her dotage could alone 
 
 Explain her shy way. 
 
GRANDPA'S CHRISTMAS GHOST. 
 
 Of course the woods seem strange at night 
 And grand and solemn. Beyond the sight 
 The darkness holds some cause of fright. 
 
 Who knows for certain 
 But bears and ghouls are peering right 
 
 Plumb through the curtain ? 
 
 The old creek bridge we crossed at last, 
 When up Bess flew with snort and blast 
 And o'er the swale in terror passed 
 
 With eyes a-glowing. 
 'Mong stumps and logs a glance she cast 
 
 That set her going. 
 
 Then up the hill and on we flew, 
 And very soon there came in view 
 The old log barn belonging to 
 
 My neighbor Gurney. 
 A mile or more to travel through 
 
 Would end the journey. 
 
GRAXDPJ'S CnK/S'J\UAS GHOST. 
 
 I'his relic of an early day, 
 
 Where spooks and tramps were said to stay, 
 
 Stood gaping in a threat'ning way 
 
 From night to morning. — 
 At night it looks, I'm frank to say, 
 
 Brim full of — warning. 
 
 Somehow I wished for my son Ben, 
 
 A sturdy lad of six-and-ten, 
 
 NVho'd been in with me now and then 
 
 To do his shopping. 
 This time he urged, hut up the glen 
 
 We had some chopping. 
 
 Just then a shadow seemed to glide. 
 
 And quick as thought old Bess she shyed, 
 
 'I'hen looking front I something spied. 
 
 Alive but ghostly. 
 Upon the fence. In turn he eyed 
 
 My presence closely. 
 
GKAXDPA'S CHRISTMAS CI/OST. 
 
 A hasty jerk to 'scape the ditch, 
 A sudden balk because of which, — 
 And all the powers o' man or witch 
 
 Were unavailing 
 To coax or drive her on a stitch. — 
 
 I knew her fail in g. 
 
 My money in my boot I got 
 
 And left my sleigh, for on the spot 
 
 Must be disclosed, — I cared not what, 
 
 Not e'en a copper,- — 
 If thing of fancy 'twere or not, 
 
 Or ghost or robber. 
 
 From top to toe he looked well wrapped 
 
 In double robes that overlapped. 
 
 His head, a plain white ball uncapped, 
 
 Was aught but charming. 
 Upon his face three holes were mapped 
 
 Well nigh alarmina:. 
 
GRANDPA'S CHRISTMAS GHOST. 
 
 I'm gentle when a face invites 
 
 And has some claim to human rights, 
 
 Whose owner wanders not o' nights 
 
 Like such a fellow. 
 Just 'fore I'd got my mind to rights 
 
 He calls out, "Hello!" 
 
 Said I, "My friend, I fear you'll freeze. 
 Perhaps you think I carry keys 
 To unlock spectre-vaults to please 
 
 Your royal spirit." 
 He seemed to give a laugh or sneeze. 
 
 Or something near it. 
 
 " Don't mock the powers of air," said he. 
 But if you'll hear what's good for thee. 
 Draw nigh, and mind you, hosts like me 
 
 Another 'Hello' 
 Would raise to tramp you down in glee 
 
 And make you bellow." 
 
GJiA NDPA ' S CHRIS TMA S GHOST. 
 
 At this I was quite close enough 
 To see his garb was rather rough, 
 Not just the regulation stuff, 
 
 But common sheeting. 
 Remarking this, I stopped my bluff 
 
 To wait his greetino;. 
 
 "I'm Santa Claus, O man attend — " 
 "The zounds you be! I'll not contend 
 Your name's familiar. A halter's end, 
 
 O vain deceiver, 
 y\ round your neck alone can mend 
 
 The public fever." 
 
 "I've travelled earth this many year 
 And brought to hearts a world of cheer. 
 Now in the yellow leaf and sear 
 
 Of life's devotion, 
 A miser holds that my career 
 
 Is all a notion. 
 
GN.lXDP.l'S C//AVSyA/.IS CHOST. 13 
 
 "I've left my stasis up in the woods 
 With broken legs and lots of goods, 
 To meet a man, by many roods 
 
 The dullest living, 
 And warn him soon to change his moods 
 
 While man's foraivino-. 
 
 "You have a son whose heart was set 
 Upon a pair of skates to get 
 From Santa Claus, but in a pet 
 
 You raved for stopping 
 That 'Christmas fraud,' — more shameful j-et. 
 
 You've kept him chopping. 
 
 "Now, sir, you vow to get those skates. 
 
 Before I call my roving mates 
 
 And strip and take you through the gates 
 
 Of ice eternal." — 
 "Look out," said I, "for broken pates. 
 
 You knave infernal." 
 
14 GRANDPA'S CHRISTMAS GHOST. 
 
 My steam was up. With sudden fling 
 
 I brought him down with whirl and swing 
 
 That scattered sheets tied with a string, 
 
 'Mid great confusion. 
 Behold my Ben! I call this thing 
 
 A base delusion. 
 
 The skip-jack rogue with other boys 
 Behind the fence then raised a noise. 
 Their troubles soon were turned to joys 
 
 And dreams of skating, 
 For in the town I'd bought the toys 
 
 That day while waiting. 
 
 Long years since that have sped away 
 And shed new light on Christmas-day. 
 I'm grandpapa, I'm glad to say. 
 
 To rosy boys and maiden 
 Who find each year this holiday 
 
 My Yule-tree laden. 
 
GA'ANnP.rS CHRISTMAS GHOST. 15 
 
 And when they gather round my knee 
 And tales of ghosts demand in glee, 
 My wife and Ben, they smile at me 
 
 As though to flatter. 
 But through it all I think I see 
 
 She planned the matter. 
 
 There's plainly some mysterious power 
 Abroad through all the world this hour, 
 That takes us up as in a tower 
 
 Above the carnal ; 
 \\'here blooms the spirit as a flower. 
 
 In rays supernal. 
 
AUTUMN. 
 
 TT^RCLINES the sun in the southern sky 
 -*— ^ His course to the nether zone pursuing; 
 The end of time seems drawing nigh 
 As the night-king creeps from his reahn on high, 
 The yielding bounds of day subduing. 
 
 The list'ning air in muflled tone 
 
 lUit whispers round the doom impending, 
 When quickly summer sounds are tlown 
 .'Vnd leafy garb is somber grown, — 
 
 O'er all a thoughtful calm descending. 
 
 The clouds drop tears, the sky turns pale, 
 
 A dirge is heard among the branches; 
 For life and death meet in the vale, 
 At Libra's gate they each assail, 
 And death victorious advances. 
 
A UTUMN. 
 
 17 
 
 Each conscious leaf droops on its way 
 
 To dust and mould, in deep dejection. 
 But see! the sun with golden ray 
 His promise sheds of a joyous day 
 In nature's spring-time resurrection. 
 
REVIEW OF A BATCHELOR'S BALL. 
 
 THE batchelors gather in white ties and broad-cloth, 
 With smiles and sweet music their fair friends to charm. 
 Their smiles half conceal perturbation of spirit, 
 And betray them as novices filled with alarm. 
 
 Of course, the young dames must return smile for smile. 
 Amused upon spying th' internal flust'ration ; 
 
 So no other meaning their loving looks bear 
 Than kindly and generous commiseration. 
 
 So say the young ladies in secret review. — 
 
 As a friend I must write this and beg careful reading 
 
 To guard you 'gainst making advances undue 
 On appearances that are so very misleading. 
 
AUNT JANE. 
 
 AUNT JANE was mild-eyed, and mild-voiced and serene. 
 Her nose was quite small and was placed in between 
 The eyes like the rest of us, only the space 
 Was less than is due to this part of the face. 
 
 Now one face may serve for to eat, smell and see 
 As well as another, and yet men agree 
 When fixing a value, such functions to waive; 
 Else why love a saint's and shun that of a knave ? 
 However important as an eating machine 
 Its worth is esthetic if shaven and clean. 
 
 Aunt Jane was not happy, I'm sorry to say. 
 She carried a back-load of troubles each day 
 Belonging to others, indeed ev'ry minute 
 The world seemed to her to have nothing else in it. 
 
A UNT JANE. 
 
 A run-away team passed her house on a time, 
 For weeks she enlarged on this theme so sublime. 
 She wondered if some one was hurt, and if not 
 Then why not; she shuddered to think how they got 
 So near to destruction ; proceeded to tell 
 The injuries divers that nearly befell, — 
 Limb broken, perhaps amputation to follow; 
 Skull fractured, the rest of the life but a hollow 
 And worthless existence to victim and friend. 
 Poor thing, she would painfully come to the end 
 Recalling such horrors as oft she had read, 
 Till they feared her inventions would land her in bed. 
 
 As an old grief departed a new took its place. 
 They gathered in scores from all sources apace, 
 Till finally one little straw broke her heart. 
 She wept for a week, and no medical art, 
 Neither plasters nor physic, had power to control. 
 So slowly she passed away, poor troubled soul. 
 They got her cremated, — to close up the case, — 
 And her ashes now rest in a mantle-shelf vase. 
 On which is engraven this warning refrain, 
 "The igneous relic of lachrymose Jane." 
 
 \ 
 
TO A GRADUATE. 
 
 COMMENCEMENT day, that short sweet day 
 When moments crowd and speed along, 
 A gilded, balmy, fleeting throng, 
 Shine evermore upon thy way, 
 A lofty holy dream. 
 
 What sense of loss the spirit fills, 
 How strangely dear the recent past, 
 How sad to let it go at last ! 
 
 The closing door thy bosom thrills 
 And leaves thee but a dream. 
 
 A clear tomorrow's sun shall rise. — 
 
 The heart beats quick, the eye beams bright 
 vith youthful glow and hopeful light. 
 A\'ith heavenly beauty paints the skies 
 A fond allurins: dream. 
 
rO A GRADUATE. 
 
 When shadows flit across the view, 
 Or cares or trials cloud thy brow, 
 Dream on a never-ending now. 
 
 The spring that may thy youth renew 
 Is evermore the dream. 
 
COUNTRY COUSINS. 
 
 OELLS tht butcher to the miller 
 *^-^ Too much bone unfit to eat, 
 vSurely, neighbor, says the killer, 
 Marrow is richer than meat. 
 
 (rrincls the miller wheat and barley, 
 More than toll is always missed, 
 
 Says it shrinks to farmer Charley, 
 Cabbaging half of his grist. 
 
 Charley fills the butcher's wood-pile, 
 Sells him short of measure good. 
 
 Smiles and says it must have shrunk while 
 Drawing it out of the wood. 
 
24 
 
 CO UN TR V CO C'S/JVS. 
 
 Think you reader, they will never, 
 Banter more but drop the thing?- 
 
 Cozen still as smart as ever, 
 Chasinw the cat in a rintr. 
 
MUSICAL TROUBLES. 
 
 \^()U doul)t tluit muses act like common folks, 
 'Twill shock your mythic faith no doubt to hear 
 'I'hat foibles tend them, even seem a hoax 
 
 'I'o talk of anger, gloom, or hate or fear, 
 To say a muse has had the mumps, or smokes. 
 
 'Tis true, as many poets know. Last year - 
 My own, a solemn one, was quite distraught, 
 And tlirough hysterics soon to grief was brought. 
 
 Siie traveled far for news and back with speed 
 Up to the last, when long delayed return 
 
 Aroused surprise and great concern indeed. 
 In some alarm, for days I'd watched to learn 
 
 Her fate, hatl walked the floor and tried to read, 
 Had walked again with halt and twist and turn, 
 
 When through the open sky-light floundered in 
 
 My muse undone as tho' bewitched she'd been. 
 
2 6 MUSICAL TROUBLES. 
 
 "Calliope!" quoth I, " what aileth thee ? 
 
 Why flustered so? 'Tis strange beyond belief. 
 Didst tumble down a mountain side, or flee 
 
 Through Kansas in a cyclone? Come be brief. 
 Or ride a night-mare wild o'er forest tree 
 
 By 'bridle undefiled,' as came to grief 
 Mazeppa once ? " She rolled her eyes and sighed, — 
 She never smiles, — then struggled to subside. 
 
 I'd watched her close and meantime diagnosed 
 The case, and fearing fatal cynic-cramps, 
 
 I gave a draught, a wineglass full almost, 
 Of spiritits sol-Iiiineii mild — this stamps 
 
 The humor out. I'd barely got her dosed 
 
 When thus in doleful tones she spoke: "Long tramps 
 
 I've taken through the human heart, and found 
 
 The source and cause of woes, a tyrant bound." 
 
 "I guess you're ill," said I, "your liver wrong. 
 Or stomach — " "Dark and labyrinthine cells — " 
 
 "But wait a moment, mean you what belong 
 To structure?" — "where discordant sound upwells, 
 
MUSICAL TROUBLES. 27 
 
 And discontented spectres stalk along 
 
 I traversed." — "Was it, pray, where all this dwells, 
 A live heart or a dead one?" — "When I gained 
 The inner cell I found a giant chained. 
 
 "He caught me by the foot and held me fast, 
 And 'mid the gloom and stifling air, 'mid groans 
 
 Resounding ev'ry where, I stood aghast." — 
 " Didst notice lying on the floor the bones 
 
 Of other muses?" — "Half subdued and vast 
 His passion while he uttered wrath and moans 
 
 And threats against man's life and happiness." — 
 
 "I hope you did not blurt out my address." 
 
 "See here, now stop. I've heard such rant before 
 From victims whom, no doubt, thou hast inspired. 
 
 "O man enslaved — " I kicked the table o'er 
 And flung a vase, and she alarmed retired 
 
 The way she came. She'll trouble me no more. 
 But may to others tell her tale of woes, 
 And so I'll herald this where e'er she goes. 
 Observe, you'll find a scar across her nose. 
 
DISCONTENT. 
 
 T T E'S not content, he's in a stew, 
 •^ -■- The broth is all too cold or hot; 
 He broods or blows till all is blue, 
 
 And that which is he vows is not. 
 Revolve the world its reg'lar way, 
 'Tis wrong side up at night or day. 
 
 So topsy-turvy men are viewed. 
 
 This fills his pate with vexing care 
 To steer safe through the multitude 
 
 Of heels a-wagging in the air. 
 'Tis plain he's not a turtle-dove, 
 Else would he ri.se and soar above. 
 
 He spends no time on gill or gull, 
 I'hough having angles all his own. 
 
 He eats his meat to build his hull. 
 And plucks his spirit to the bone. 
 
 If one you know don't tell him this, — 
 
 A kindly hit he'll take a-miss. 
 
INAUGURATION DAY. 
 
 THOSE holidays that nations love so well, 
 See what of character and life they tell; 
 And 'mong theni all, their meaning fathomed, say 
 Which one excels Inauguration Day. 
 
 The nation's day in kingdoms glorifies 
 The monarch's grandeur, lauds him to the skies 
 As son of heaven and peer of seraphim, 
 While subjects gaze and mutely rev'rence him. 
 
 Our altars burn with love of home and land, 
 And he who rules extends a brother's hand. 
 With us the people, next to God in power, 
 Bestow the scepter in that day and hour 
 On Freedom's Prince, who humbly takes the trust 
 'Mid prayers ascending from the good antl just. 
 
3° IN A UGURA TION DA V. 
 
 Behold the multitude, the people's part, 
 At Washington, where throbs the nation's heart, 
 Assembled now in patriotic zeal 
 To gather lessons for their country's weal 
 From him whose words addressed fill each with thought 
 That elevates by lofty maxims taught. 
 
 To this, Columbia's school with open door. 
 They come from far Alaska's frozen shore; 
 From tropic Florida, its Everglades; 
 From Maine remote, its hills and pine-tree shades; 
 From Texan Llano Estacado green ; 
 From mountain high and valley low between; 
 From territories new and wild, untaught; 
 From crowded States, enriched, refined ; methought, 
 From ev'ry corner of the land they haste, — 
 From mine, from mill, from hut, from home of taste; 
 From wigwam of the Sioux; from palace grand; 
 From Freedman's cabin; homes o'er all the land, 
 They come. — Unlike, a varied people, one 
 In sentiment, "i? Plurihiis U/n/iii.'" 
 
 To us this day of lofty congregation 
 Must ever be the anchor of our Nation. 
 
AN OLD MAXIM. 
 
 OITTINCi upon the fence, idle, a sparrow-bird,- 
 ^^ Certainly strange was his case, — 
 
 Dozed as though Sabbath-day quiet had overcome 
 Boisterous instinct, and penitent seemed to one 
 Knowing the turbulent race. 
 
 Thus on a winter's day muffled and lonely, 
 
 Banished by friend and by brother, 
 Sleeping it may be, he sat for an hour or so, 
 Planning more likely some vengeance upon a foe- 
 Surely 'twas one or the other. 
 
 Something unusual. — Chattering, fluttering. 
 
 Hubbub and fracas enjoyed, 
 Looking upon all the world as a harvest field, 
 Factiously claiming each kernel that it may yield. 
 
 Thus are their moments employed. 
 
AiV OLD MAXIM. 
 
 Sprightliness, petulance, sauciness, vigilance, 
 
 Bristling all over with spite. 
 Solve uie this riddle in whatever way you will, 
 Yet have you found them from toe-nail to tip of bil 
 
 Mostly all feathers and fight. 
 
GAFFER BALDWIN. 
 
 T 'iM a bluff unextinguished curmudgeon, they say, 
 -^ Of eighty odd years, 'thout a hair that is gray, 
 And while others are whistling to call bac^ their youth 
 I'll vote for a hundred years onward, in sooth. 
 
 A fig for sweet youth! with its ear-ache and nurse, 
 Succeeded by heart-ache a blasted sight worse. 
 We're all blundering boys until four-score and ten. 
 Then give us a hundred years for'ard, amen. 
 
 (iaffer Jones sailed for wealth with no compass or log, 
 And he's tacked right and left, a raw tar in a fog; 
 T)Ut now, with the back of his head full of eyes, 
 He could laugh at the sea and in time win the prize. 
 
34 GAFFER BALDWIN. 
 
 Gaffer Brown stored his mind with the lore of all time, 
 But his learning fell short of the point most sublime, 
 The myst'ry of God in the world. Now I guess 
 He would nourish the spirit and gorge the brain less. 
 
 Gaffer Drake was a fop with a butterfly life. 
 
 And the whirlwind is his — as he sowed unto strife. 
 
 If his days were prolonged to recover the lea, 
 
 Neither wild oats nor chaff would the next harvest be. 
 
 I can see in a glass what I am, bad and good, 
 
 And I've just reached the spot where our forefathers stood. 
 
 Now mebbe I'm odd, but I'd like to jog on. 
 
 With thanks for the schooling of eighty years gone. 
 
A MONITOR. 
 
 A STRANGER he was rambling over the field, 
 White-haired, cheery-faced and neatly attired. 
 While a staff and some flowers the picture revealed 
 
 Of old age in the spring-time with childhood inspired, - 
 (iaining the top of a gentle decline, 
 
 Musing and smiling, the mild hour beguiling, 
 Inwrapt of the sun and the shine. 
 
 Now weightier thoughts oversjiadow the smile. 
 And gravely attentive his manner becomes 
 
 To a venerable stump. Is he conscious the while 
 As politely he bows and my pleasure benumbs 
 
 Crowning the stump with the florets he brings? 
 Fancy, one urges, then sink 'neath the surges 
 
 Of Lethe, boots, breeches and wings. 
 
36 A MONITOR. 
 
 Now, what charm in stumps to a farmer boy's eye, 
 Save wood-chucks and snakes, or a bumble-bees' nest? 
 
 So it puzzled me quite if a smile or a sigh 
 
 Would arise from the feelings astir in my breast. 
 
 Seeking to guide him the mystery broke. 
 
 Brief was the meeting, and pleasant the greeting 
 
 As dawn of the day while he spoke. 
 
 "Young lad, only soul can resolve what has passed. 
 
 Flower, cricket and stone have a message to tell. 
 What wonder old stumps should then mutter at last 
 
 While observing your tree-planting down in the dell? 
 Tones dull and wooden, but words strong and plain 
 
 Telling the story of mouldering glory, 
 Conveyed this indignant refrain:" 
 
 Arbor-day, holiday, jubilee, fun, — 
 
 Not e'en a tear for the forest undone, 
 
 Scarcely a token of blind devastation. 
 
 No axe in black ribbon, doth mar celebration. 
 
A MONITOR. 37 
 
 Many a storm has passed over my head, 
 Nothing but man have I reason to dread. 
 Give him an inch and he takes pride satanic 
 In ranging the world for dominion tyrannic. 
 
 Who, when from duUness or wantoness free. 
 Could unlamenting e'er cut down a tree? 
 Woodmen condemned me, my site here contesting. 
 Yet spared but to shadow their last place of resting. 
 
 Doomsday befell me, — his road and mine meet 
 For merry worms sport in his dust at my feet. 
 Gladly I pardon if this ostentation 
 Restore the great blessings of my generation. 
 
 Joyous the landscape, the seasons complete, — 
 Clouds hovered kindly the blossoms to greet. 
 Wooing all nature to cherish and love me 
 By dropping their showers reviving above me. 
 
38 A MONITOR. 
 
 Rainfalls to-day overflowing the land, 
 Stayed heretofore by the forest's broad hand, 
 Spread death and destruction unchecked as they rally 
 In mountains of torrent, through village and valley. 
 
 See how sterility follows his path ! 
 Dry are the meadows and scanty the math ; 
 Lowing is heard o'er the plains from his cattle, 
 And plenty and want fight a wavering battle. 
 
 Cities at last take the place of the wood. 
 Pestilence, crime awe and strangle the good. 
 Tumult and ravenous care but remain 
 Instead the sweet peace of our ancient domain. 
 
 Add yet ambition in armor and spur. 
 Prayer for the town may beseech or demur, 
 Ship-like deprived of the shrouds to the mizzen. 
 She drifts into hospital, almshouse and prison. 
 
A MONITOR. 39 
 
 Turn now this tide to the wilderness wide 
 
 Soothing and saving whoe'er will abide, 
 
 Then, when the stream shall exhaust e'en the fountain. 
 
 Will ages restore me from valley to mountain. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 016 256 032 3