alifornia 
 atonal
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 MY LOVES AND MY LOVERS
 
 Five Hundred copies printed. 
 Wo. / / ^
 
 Lobes and f&y Loterg 
 
 BY 
 
 SAMUEL PEARCE MERRILL 
 
 THE MARION PRESS 
 
 JAMAICA QUEENSBOROUGH NEW YORK 
 1909
 
 Copyright, 1909, by SAMUEL PEARCE MERRILL.
 
 -238"} 
 
 PREFATORY. 
 
 CT^his book of verse goes oat in response to the often 
 exprest wishes of " o' ' er -partial friends." But 
 
 for them it never would have seen the face of type. 
 Among these friends I may be permitted to mention 
 Professor Edward M. Bowman, President Charles F. 
 Meserve, LL.D., Mark D. Stiles, Esq., and Attorney 
 Ode II D. Tompkins. The little volume asks to go to 
 
 friendly eyes and sympathetic hearts. Its chief value 
 lies in the responses it makes to other lives that have 
 been touched in the passing of the years. Many of 
 those who are named, or not named, are gone, and live 
 but in fading memory, except for these pages. Many 
 who share the spirit of the song, will live on long after 
 the singer's voice is hushed to silence. Like the mur 
 mur of the chords which ever answer to the passing 
 breeze, these verses are vibrant with friendship and 
 love, and shall be until the lines fade from off the 
 
 printed page. 
 
 Friends that are gone, friends that abide, to you the 
 author dedicates these pages forever and aye! His 
 
 faults your mantle, Charity, will cover. 
 
 SD3030
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Woman ....... 9 
 
 Cupid . . . . . . . 10 
 
 Our Willie II 
 
 The Winter's Grave . . . . 1 1 
 
 The Little Wife 13 
 
 Our Life . . . . . . 14. 
 
 Florida's Hills ' . 16 
 
 The Friends . . . . . . 17 
 
 The Bouquet . . . . . .18 
 
 Ode to the Genesee River . . . 19 
 
 Kiss Me If You Can 20 
 
 The First Snowstorm . . . . 22 
 
 Sowing Precious Seed . . . 23 
 
 Music in the Breeze . . . . 24 
 
 Peace, Be Still 25 
 
 An Album Dedication . . . . 27 
 
 Memories . . . . . -27 
 
 Love's First Kiss . . . . . 29 
 
 Life ....... 30 
 
 The Glass Steam Engine . . . 31 
 
 Invocation . . . . 32 
 
 To Annie, the Little Beauty . . . 34
 
 viii Contents 
 
 Reflection -35 
 
 The Class Song, 1858 . . . 36 
 
 Phonography . . . . . -37 
 
 Baffled Hopes 39 
 
 Witches In Your Eye . . . . .40 
 
 On a Picture ..... 42 
 
 A Valentine ...... 43 
 
 Music ...... 44 
 
 The Bible 45 
 
 To Mollie 46 
 
 Engaged . . 47 
 
 Battle of Fredericksburg .... 49 
 
 Lines . . . . . . 5 1 
 
 The Unknown Dead . . . . 52 
 
 Love and Duty . . . . . -54 
 
 Beauty Brown Eyes . . . . 55 
 
 Courage ....... 56 
 
 Myrtie . . . . . . 57 
 
 Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of 1858 . 59 
 
 Sniggles, the Squirrel Island Cat . . 61 
 
 In Memoriam My Parents . . -63 
 
 The Vigil for Our Dead . . . . 65 
 
 Love's Dream ...... 66 
 
 My Wedding Violets .... 67 
 
 "She hath done what she could" . .68 
 
 Mine Run, 1863 ..... 69
 
 Contents ix 
 
 My Lifetime Friend . . . . 70 
 
 Our Squirrel Island Song . . . 71 
 
 One of the Few . . . . -72 
 
 Mabel Adams' Call . . . . 73 
 
 A Dedication Hymn . . . . -74 
 
 The Star of Bethlehem . . . . 75 
 
 The Cecilian Choir, of Newark, N. J. . 77 
 
 To My Daughter Mary . . . . 78 
 
 In Memoriam . . . . . -79 
 
 A Morning Hymn ..... 80 
 
 Shaw is Marching On . . . .81 
 
 The Bowman Drama . . . . 82 
 
 God's Mystery ...... 84 
 
 In Memoriam George Such ... 86 
 
 From Sahel to the Sea . . . -87 
 
 Notre Dame d'Afrique, Algiers . . . 88 
 
 Athens and the American School . . .89 
 
 The Wedding- Cake . . . . 92 
 
 The Carlton House, Sedgwick, Maine . . 93 
 
 My Lady's Birthday . . . . 95 
 
 Christ our Chief Cornerstone .. . -95 
 
 The Pierian Spring . . . . 97 
 
 Better than Gold . . . . -99 
 
 The Big Trees . . . . .100 
 
 Hawaii, the Beulah Land . . . . 101 
 
 In Memoriam 102
 
 x Contents 
 
 "The Beautiful, the True, and the Good " .104 
 
 The Thornbush and the Rose . . . 105 
 
 To the Friends . . . . . .106 
 
 To Georgiana . . . . .107 
 
 A Birthday Soliloquy . . . . .108 
 
 Usual Tommy and Curious Kate . . 109 
 
 To Celebrate the Wedding . . . . 1 1 1 
 
 To My Classmates All . . . . 112 
 
 Our Lady of the Stars . . . . . 1 1 3 
 
 The Rev. Daniel Merrill, A.M. . . 114 
 
 The Little Torch 1 1 6 
 
 In Memoriam . . . . . 1 1 8 
 
 Calvary Choir . . . . . .119 
 
 For the Wedding . . . . . 120 
 
 An Appreciation . . . . .121 
 
 Their Three Seasons . . . . 123 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. Albert S. Burlingham . . I 24 
 
 To My Daughter, Mary Merrill . . 125 
 Song of Solomon, v. 1 6 : "This is my friend " 127 
 
 The Land of Burns . . . . 128 
 
 Impromptu . . . . -130 
 
 John White Philbrick, Deceased . . 132 
 
 A Lassie's Scrap-Book . . . . . 133 
 
 For the Wedding . . . . . 134 
 
 The Reverend Professor Lawrence Phelps, D.D. 135 
 
 My Dearie . . . . . .136
 
 I 
 
 Contents xi 
 
 Hymn . . . . . . . 137 
 
 Our Friends . . . . . . 138 
 
 An -Algiers Swain / . . . -139 
 On Meditating a Visit to Palestine . . 140 
 
 The Fukuin Maru . . . . . .141 
 
 Praise to Our God . . . .142 
 
 Good-Bye '\ . ./ . . . 144
 
 anfc 
 
 O woman ! thou wert born so fair 
 To strew life's stormy-fretted road 
 
 With flowers bright, and shed an air 
 Of purest innocence abroad. 
 
 Thou dost man's dearest thoughts beguile ; 
 
 They own thy wondrous power to guide ; 
 And dearer is thy loving smile 
 
 Than all the wealth of earth beside. 
 
 Would 'st yield thy treasured beauty rare 
 Or barter it for prize of dust ? 
 
 Earth's greatest worth were buried there 
 And thou wert traitor to thy trust. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., July, 1854.
 
 io My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Cttpili. 
 
 Cupid ! Cupid ! what an urchin ! 
 
 Always gliding around the earth, 
 Always weaving others trouble, 
 
 And always laughing, full of mirth. 
 Tell me where thy court is found ? 
 Who shall next by thee be bound ? 
 
 Tell me where was forged that arrow - 
 Piercing thru the heart and marrow ? 
 Tell me where I '11 catch thee sleeping, 
 Fays around thee vigils keeping ? 
 
 Tell me why thy power 's so charming, 
 Linking hearts, all fear disarming, 
 Nor caring whether high or low 
 Shall feel the power of thy bow ? 
 
 Ah, me ! Thy archery, how mean ! 
 Our hearts are pawns with thee, I ween. 
 Whom you pass, we write them stupid - 
 Rougish, laughing, dimpled Cupid. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., November, 1854.
 
 1 1 
 
 ttt Willie. 
 
 Sleep, little babe, sleep on so sweet, 
 
 Pillowed beneath the sod ; 
 Our earthly storms pass o'er thee fleet, 
 
 For thou art with thy God. 
 
 Like some bright star seen in the skies 
 That sheds one beam of light, 
 
 Then twinkles faintly out and dies 
 So sank ye from our sight. 
 
 Buds in Springtime ope their flow'rs, 
 Tho Winter long hath chilled ; 
 
 So graves shall people heav'nly bowers, 
 Tho but with dust they 're filled. 
 
 Mt. Hope, Rochester, N.Y., 1855. 
 
 <25raUe. 
 
 Old Winter had reigned with his icy wand, 
 Had crystaled the sea and frosted the land ; 
 His limbs were chilled and his heart had grown 
 
 cold, 
 And his blood ran slow in his veins so old.
 
 I 2 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 By his side walked forth in his joyous might 
 A youth whose powers had never known blight ; 
 And a happy sight was this trusting pair 
 The Old one was leaning upon the Fair. 
 
 Old Winter, worn with his toilsome reign, 
 Grown old in care and racked with pain, 
 Upon the beauteous head of the Spring 
 Bequeathed him his crown and folded his wing. 
 
 Thus came the sunshine and mantled the rain, 
 The emblems of joy and of fevered pain ; 
 And Spring, as he mourns for the Old Man's 
 
 death, 
 Now raises aloud and now calms his breath. 
 
 And Nature so fondly the dewdrops gave 
 To spangle them over the Old Man's grave ; 
 The rainbow's light in the heavens she bent 
 As the Old Man's glorious monument. 
 
 Thus, when you welcome the buds and flowers 
 The beauteous sights of Springtime bowers 
 Know you full well how that each one again 
 Tells also the joy of the Young King's reign. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., May 27, 1855.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 1 3 
 
 little Witt. 
 
 O, if you had a little wife, 
 Winsome, good, and full of life, 
 
 And she were only all your own, 
 Would you frown when- she would smile ? 
 Would you wish her ought of guile ? 
 
 Could you let her be alone ? 
 Would you ? Could you ? 
 If you had the dear wife, would you ? 
 
 When she 'd come to cure your sadness 
 With her face all lit with gladness 
 
 And perchance a kiss, 
 Would you anything refuse her ? 
 Would you ever want to lose her ? 
 
 Would you take it aught amiss? 
 Would you ? Could you ? 
 If you had the dear wife, would you ? 
 
 If she had increased your pleasure 
 By adding now and then a treasure, 
 Do you think you would complain ?
 
 1 4 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 When with joy you 'd go to greet her, 
 And she'd blush when you would meet her, 
 
 Could you from a kiss refrain ? 
 Would you ? Could you ? 
 If you had the dear wife, would you ? 
 
 And would you wipe away her tears ? 
 And would you drive away her fears ? 
 
 Would you love her always more ? 
 Would you sit and read her features 
 In the charming little creatures 
 
 Playing just within the door? 
 Would you ? Could you ? 
 If you had the treasures, would your 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., May, 1855. 
 
 ttr life. 
 
 I saw a lake, no ripple to break 
 
 Its mirror-surface o'er ; 
 Reflected, a star, bright gem from afar, 
 
 This magic lakelet bore.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers \ 5 
 
 Here frailest boats the light zephyr floats 
 
 To music of the waves ; 
 From ocean cells come bright sentinels 
 
 Where each light skifflet laves. 
 
 Gliding along to murmuring song, 
 
 These barks were on the wing ; 
 With a starry sky and with white sails high, 
 
 No anchor th* floaters fling. 
 
 The storm-king loud, in his chariot cloud, 
 
 Came whirling on the blast ; . 
 And many a boat nevermore could float 
 
 When the wing of his ire was past. 
 
 And as I gaze thru the cloudy haze, 
 
 The sunbeams on the lake 
 Seem scattered and few as spangles of dew, 
 
 And soon away betake. 
 
 And such is life ! 'T is ever a strife 
 
 Between sunshine and rain, 
 And each frail bark neath the wavelets dark 
 
 Must soon or late remain. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., July 10, 1855.
 
 1 6 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 jFIortUa'fi 
 
 (Montgomery County, N.Y.) 
 
 Old Florida's hills, where the winter wind chills 
 
 And dances in power and glee, 
 Where the snowflakes lie, like its own hills, high, 
 
 With memory's glance I see. 
 
 And the Mohawk's flow, with its ice-burden slow 
 
 Which it bears to the Hudson away, 
 And the village just seen thru the mists between, 
 
 They glisten before me today. 
 
 From the tall hillside, the prospect so wide 
 
 Stretches fair away to the view, 
 Where homes below, with smoke curling slow, 
 
 Shelter hearts that beat warm for you. 
 
 And the forests look gray with their burdens of spray, 
 
 As they bear their unwonted fruit, 
 When the waving green fields to the icy garb yields 
 
 And the thousand-tongued summer is mute. 
 
 And pure is the light from the snowy fields white, 
 And free sweep the winds o'er the plain ; 
 
 But hear me today, for my boding fears say 
 I never may see them again. 
 
 A letter to Jennie A. Stanton, February 5, 1856.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 17 
 
 STIje J rmxtis. 
 
 I saw two clouds that, riding high, 
 Were gliding thru the summer sky ; 
 They came and went as birds that play, 
 Now hovering here, now far away, 
 Till, sporting thus, they sailed so near 
 That both in one more bright appear. 
 
 I saw two drops leave their high home 
 
 And come to'rd earth's domain to roam: 
 
 Like leaves they fell, nor caring where, 
 
 So they but left the chilly air, 
 
 And on a rose they fell and met. 
 
 Go seek them there. You '11 find them yet. 
 
 I saw two strangers drawing near, 
 In converse close they soon appear : 
 Say they the clouds unite together, 
 And drops, too, meet in stormy weather ; 
 Then why should we so lonely stray ? 
 Thus meeting, they are friends today. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., February, 1856.
 
 1 8 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Bouquet. 
 
 I 've a pretty bouquet 
 
 On my table today ; 
 I 've had it these two days or so ; 
 
 And the leaves as they fade 
 
 Whisper, "All was but made 
 To bloom, and when brightest to go." 
 
 And the quick-flashing eye 
 
 All sightless must lie : 
 The high-beating heart must grow still ; 
 
 As the flowers decay, 
 
 So one passeth away. 
 The fairest is blighted with ill. 
 
 E'en the sunshine must fade, 
 And dark shadows be laid 
 
 On the earth, and so on the heart ; 
 And the quick falling rain 
 And the teardrop of pain 
 
 Do their work, and then they depart. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y.,June, 1856.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 19 
 
 He to t(je <25enesfee Kitoer. 
 
 In beauty and grandure thou glidest along 
 Thru the pleasant green vallies and city 's dense throng 
 Where the bright emerald banks the clear water laves, 
 And thy music is sweet, for 'tis made by the waves. 
 
 Long ages thy waters had busily ran 
 Ere thy beauty was scanned by the proud eye of man ; 
 As thy torrents have rolled o'er their rough, rocky bed, 
 Nought reflected the waves but the gems overhead. 
 
 The heart of the red man has throbbed with true joy, 
 As he taught thy sweet name to his innocent boy ; 
 And the fair Indian maid has heaved many a sigh 
 When her hopes passed away, as thy waters flow by. 
 
 I 've traced my river ! my sweet Genesee ! 
 
 Far back where the wild bird singeth out in his glee ; 
 
 Where the flowers unplucked gem the mossy, green 
 
 banks, 
 And their fragrance, upwafted, to heaven gives thanks. 
 
 I' ve seen the pure spring whence thy first courses start, 
 Where the high rising hills for thy clear waters part ;
 
 2O My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 And with pleasure the purest I look upon thee 
 E'en wherever thou windest, O my sweet Genesee ! 
 
 I 've gazed from thy banks where the water falls deep, 
 As if, worn with its journey, it seeketh for sleep ; 
 And in fond meditation while straying by thee 
 Have I seen fairest visions, my sweet Genesee ! 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., August, 1856. 
 
 3ff goti Can, 
 
 I met her in the evening 
 
 When the stars were shining bright, 
 And her eyes were soft and lovely 
 
 As if dancing with delight ; 
 And I sat me close beside her, 
 
 And I took her hand in mine, 
 And she said, "You mustn't, Willie." 
 
 I held it in a closer twine. 
 
 I put my arm about her, 
 
 'Twas just to hold her still ; 
 
 And she begged that I would leave her, 
 Shyly, as you maidens will.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers zi 
 
 And she frowned a pretty frown, 
 And she said she knew she 'd cry ; 
 
 But I thought she didn't mean it, 
 I didn't really b'lieve she 'd try. 
 
 But soon I drew still nearer 
 
 And my lips were closely prest 
 To the place where Cupid bids them 
 
 Find their sweetest place of rest. 
 O, how she blushed and started ! 
 
 And she tried to get away ; 
 But the struggle wasn't fearful 
 
 'T is thus the lasses do, they say. 
 
 Anon I rose to leave her ; 
 
 Said she, "Willie, don't you go." 
 Whispered I, "You bade me do it." 
 
 "Well," said she, "Willie, you know 
 I didn't really mean it, 
 
 And you yet may hold my hand, 
 And may put your arm about me, 
 
 And may kiss me, Willie, if you can. ' ' 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., October, 1856.
 
 22 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Or first 
 
 The wintry wind blows chill and drear, 
 The Autumn leaves are falling near, 
 And all is fading, fading here. 
 It is the first snowstorm ! 
 
 The birds afraid are flying far, 
 And hushed their songs of gladness are, 
 And summer sets her waning star. 
 It is the first snowstorm ! 
 
 The winter comes with storms and snows, 
 And colder still the bleak wind blows ; 
 But pleasure comes, tho beauty goes, 
 With this the first snowstorm. 
 
 It tells the year is growing old ; 
 His heart is chilled with coming cold, 
 And silv'ry grow his locks of gold. 
 It is the first snowstorm. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., November, 1856.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 23 
 
 lofting precious 
 
 Go, sow my seed ! the Lord hath said. 
 Upon the waters cast thy bread ; 
 It shall return thee double store, 
 And heap thy head with blessings o'er. 
 
 Tho sown in tears, thou 'It reap in joy ; 
 The angels envy such employ. 
 Then forth to work ! Gird on thy sword, 
 Thy shield, thy buckler, God's own word ! 
 
 Sow thou in hope, nor do thou faint, 
 God's arm shall guard the weakest saint ; 
 Thy tears are bottled, and thy sighs 
 Before His sight as incense rise. 
 
 The battle is not to the strong. 
 Have patience ! though delay be long. 
 God's own good time shall bring the right 
 We walk by faith and not by sight. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., December 18, 1856.
 
 24 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 ffiusit in the 
 
 Sweet, when summer winds are sighing 
 O'er the fields and thru the trees, 
 
 To list the thousand voices hieing 
 Of Music whispered by the breeze. 
 
 Sweet to watch the evening gather 
 
 When every scene seems born to please, 
 
 When fragrance floats from every heather 
 O, then there's music in the breeze. 
 
 Pleasant, by old ocean waiting, 
 
 To watch the white foam of the seas : 
 
 To see the winds the waves awaking, 
 And list the music of the breeze. 
 
 Alike when morn or evening reign 
 
 Upon the waters and the leas, 
 Are voices whispering sweet again 
 
 There 's music floats in every breeze. 
 
 Upon the craggy mountain's peak 
 
 Whose snow-capped height the trav'ller sees, 
 As in the vale or desert bleak, 
 
 There 's always music in the breeze. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., December, 1856.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 25 
 
 peace, 
 
 A silv'ry lake was rippling music's trill 
 
 As rode a light boat o'er its blue tide dark. 
 
 Ought petty fears man's quiet breast to fill 
 With such a pilot and so good a bark ? 
 
 But soon the tempest madly shows his rage ; 
 
 The wild waves toss them rudely by ; 
 No presence now their gloomy fears assuage 
 
 As gleam the lightnings from the stormy sky. 
 
 Awhile they shrink in pallid fear away, 
 
 (Despair hath seized them as its choicest spoil,) 
 
 Forgetful that their Master, sleeping, lay, 
 
 Faint with his watching and grown weak by toil. 
 
 Now Peter, bolder than the others came 
 
 To pray his Master that He yet would save ; 
 
 New faith was added to the feeble flame, 
 
 He took the strength the willing Saviour gave. 
 
 Christ rose serenely from that tossing bed 
 
 And gazed complacent on the troubled crew ; 
 
 No bitter admonitions then were said, 
 
 His loving heart their sore temptation knew.
 
 26 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 The light' ning, issuing forth its sheets of flame, 
 And winds obeyed the Saviour's mighty will ; 
 
 The waves like silv'ry brooklets then became, 
 For lo ! He bade the storm a " Peace, be still." 
 
 So shall He ever, when the storms of life 
 Beset thy pathway, leaving darkness there, 
 
 Calm all the fevered soul's impassioned strife. 
 The holy secret is, be oft in prayer. 
 
 He 's ever near thee. O forget him not, 
 
 When fortune smiles and woos thee by its charm. 
 
 For, when temptation comes, thou 'rt not forgot : 
 'Tis Jesus keeps thee by His pow'rful arm. 
 
 He '11 guide thy bark thru every changing wave, 
 Alike when sunshine comes and bleak winds chill. 
 
 Fear not ! the fiercest storms thy life can brave, 
 At last He '11 bid them all a " Peace, be still." 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., January, 1857.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 27 
 
 &n SUbttm SDeUuation. 
 
 Reader, here behold a "vase," 
 
 Waiting for thy kindly gift. 
 Sweetest flowers cull and place, 
 Buds of beauty and of grace, 
 And no blight shall e'er efface 
 Their sweetness. 
 
 Cherished ever shall they be, 
 
 Their freshness never vanish, 
 Ever dearer unto me 
 As with swiftness time shall flee ; 
 And I will remember thee 
 Forever. 
 
 Flow'rs are pleasant in the Spring, 
 
 And fragrant in the Summer ; 
 Flow'rs in Fall and Winter bring 
 Most pleasure. Pleasant offering ! 
 Dearer these as time shall fling 
 Age's snows. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., January 17, 1857. 
 
 I would not, O no, I cannot forget ! 
 
 Fond memory's sunny and holier days, 
 Tho the sun that has lit them forever be set,
 
 28 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Yet their twilight, still ling'ring with mellowing rays, 
 Sweet reflection with happiest vision displays. 
 
 1 would not, O no, I cannot forget ! 
 
 When affliction with direful wing draweth nigh, 
 
 O'er the scenes of the past we shall stay with regret; 
 Tho foreseeing the storm in the threatening sky, 
 We may tearful look back to the bow that 's passed by. 
 
 Ye memories ! sure, I would not forget ! 
 As the trav'ller haileth the cool shady bower 
 
 Where the rippling fountains with emerald are set, 
 So away from the noon-heat of life's busy hour 
 There 's a welcome retreat in thy gentler power. 
 
 I would not, O no, I cannot forget ! 
 
 Tho joy like a river my heart should o'erflow, 
 
 These fond scenes of the past will be lingering yet ; 
 And their pleasures increase as they come and they go, 
 Still outshining the present with sunnier glow. 
 
 O memories sweet ! the kindness they show 
 
 From hearts that are living and loving, in dream, 
 
 While those accents I hear and those footsteps I know, 
 Tho each feature the fainter and dimmer may seem, 
 They will bless me and cheer me forever, I deem. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., March 16, 1857.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 29 
 
 first 
 
 The joy, the joy, of love's first kiss, 
 When heart meets heart in raptured bliss ! 
 How thrills the life-blood in the breast 
 When lip meets lip together prest. 
 
 Could man with his poor puny hand 
 Reach forth and grasp time's fleeting sand, 
 Almost he would that hour might be 
 His life thru all eternity. 
 
 What joy, what concentrated bliss, 
 Is held within that love's first kiss ! 
 Methinks the gods might envy well 
 TV ambrosial breath of such a spell. 
 
 Then pleasure's cup with joy o'erfills 
 When love's first kiss the warm heart thrills. 
 Ah, pleasant languor ! passion sweet ! 
 How quick'nest thou the pulse's beat ! 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., 1857.
 
 30 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 life. 
 
 'T is evening, and sweet peace doth reign 
 O'er quiet Nature's broad domain. 
 Music charms the dark'ning hour 
 In accents winged with gentle power ; 
 And thus in pleasure's thrall I live, 
 Since naught but pleasure these can give. 
 
 Lo ! I dream beside a river, 
 Where the wavelets leap and quiver, 
 And bubbles, rising in their spray, 
 They bursting, fade and die away ; 
 In ceaseless motion are they tossed 
 Each rises, sparkles, and is lost. 
 
 Man 's the bubble floating past, 
 Gilded bright, but fades at last ; 
 Short the passage, frail the sheen, 
 TV engulphing waves he sinks between. 
 O life ! thou art a smile, a tear. 
 Now art thou, and thou are not here. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., October 25, 1857.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 3 i 
 
 <<. I)f (Slags Strain Engine. 
 
 Not greatest, the latest 
 
 This subject we class. 
 No dream is the theme 
 
 Of our measure today. 
 We would sing you a song 
 
 Of an engine of glass : 
 But far better than we 
 
 Shall it sing its own lay. 
 
 Not duty, but beauty 
 
 Hath captured at length, 
 Nor brass, but in glass 
 
 Do I labor unseen ; 
 The might of the whirlwind 
 
 Do I boast as my strength, 
 While slav'ry and freedom 
 
 I struggle between. 
 
 They wind me and bind me 
 
 In fetters of brass, 
 Unheeding, pleading 
 
 Thus to view the gay world ;
 
 32 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 But e'en here may I smile 
 From my palace of glass, 
 
 With haughty defiance 
 
 My proud lips are curled. 
 
 I 'm ready, and steady 
 
 I tread my smooth way, 
 Jarring nor marring 
 
 The keenest eye sees ; 
 And the colors I wear 
 
 As the rainbows are gay ; 
 The star spangled banner 
 
 I fling on the breeze. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., December 19, 1857. 
 
 3Tntiocation. 
 
 As Editor of the "Caduceus," of The Pithonian Literary Society. 
 
 How shall I touch so sweet a harp 
 
 As poesy has e'er possest ? 
 How shall I kindle with my song 
 
 Whom Pitho's witching voice hath blest 
 And Delphi's oracle imprest?
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 33 
 
 Be you invoked, ye tuneful Nine ! 
 
 And grant unto my measure 
 The words that melt, in verse divine, 
 
 And wrap our souls in pleasure. 
 Be mine to touch the ech'ing strings, 
 
 With faltering hand, I ween : 
 For beautiful thoughts and beaut' ful things 
 
 In vision bright are seen 
 With solemn ones and sad between. 
 
 Quaint visions, too, athwart me pass 
 In astral-like procession ; 
 
 And how to tune my song for each 
 Muses, hear my confession ! 
 
 Grant me your intercession. 
 
 There are joys more dear to the soul 
 
 Than lie in the guinea gold ! 
 There are notes of sweeter control 
 
 Than ring of the metal cold ! 
 The treasures are mem'ry's trust, 
 
 And the tones are friendship's own ; 
 For mem'ry hath its diamond dust 
 
 And harp of the silver tone. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., 1857.
 
 34 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Co atnnte, t&e little 
 
 My fancy brings many a vision 
 Of loveliness, beauty, and grace ; 
 
 But never have charms so elysian 
 
 Been dreamed of as dwell in thy face. 
 
 I 've pictured the spirits of eld, 
 
 The fays in their sweet coral caves ; 
 
 Naught so fair as thy form I 've beheld, 
 Nor thy grace, like the flow of the waves. 
 
 Thy brow than the lily more fair, 
 
 And thy cheeks than the rose-tinted shell, 
 
 While thy voice an Aeolian air 
 
 Seemed to breathe, as its silv'ry notes fell. 
 
 How sparkles thy soul-thrilling eye 
 
 In beautiful setting reposed, 
 And thy pearly teeth half hidden lie 
 
 'Neath rosy lips fondly enclosed. 
 
 Dame Nature her bounties hath strewn 
 Broadcast o'er the land and the sea ; 
 
 But she 's culled the best for thine own, 
 She 's lavished the rarest on thee. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., August, 1858.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 35 
 
 Eeflectton. 
 
 Ah, once again reflection brings 
 
 The feelings of the past ; 
 And the softest roseate hues she flings, 
 And beauty flashes from her wings 
 
 Why do ye fade so fast ? 
 
 Stay, stay, bright visions ! Never more 
 
 Shall lures so sweet be given ! 
 No sigh, nor tear, life darkened o'er, 
 And Hope her sunbright pennant bore, 
 Beautiful and unriven. 
 
 The world seemed truer, then, than now 
 
 We knew it not so well. 
 The potent years have taught us how 
 Th' unflinching heart and manly brow 
 
 Must meet deception's spell. 
 
 And memory's measures, lo ! the ease 
 
 With which to-night they flow. 
 What sweet-voiced harmonies are these, 
 Like spirit notes from spirit keys, 
 Soul music, soft and low ?
 
 36 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 The joys we have together shared, 
 
 TV exchange of friendly feeling : 
 O thanks that Time at least hath spared 
 These fruits of friendship unimpaired, 
 Nought of the good concealing ! 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., 1858. 
 
 Class >onff, 1858. 
 
 Here let us pledge with beaming eyes 
 The mutual bonds we bear ; 
 
 As brothers by no common ties, 
 No common love we share. 
 
 CHORUS : 
 
 For College days gone by in joy, 
 
 For College days gone by, 
 Shall ever live in mem'ry true, 
 The College days gone by. 
 
 The joys and fears, the smiles and tears, 
 The hopes that lamp our way, 
 
 Again we vow to share, "my dears," 
 And ne'er the trust betray. 
 
 We '11 take a cup o' kindness, then, 
 For those we know are true,
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 37 
 
 Who side by side, undaunted men, 
 The good and true pursue. 
 
 When far apart, this golden tie 
 
 With lustre bright shall shine, 
 Recalling oft the days gone by, 
 
 The days of " auld lang syne." 
 
 University of Rochester, Class of 1858. 
 
 Far back in time let the spirit sweep 
 
 To the days of ancient art, 
 When Painter's hand and Sculptor's keep 
 
 The music of the heart. 
 
 When the Poets tuned their lyres so sweet, 
 
 And the eloquence as well 
 Quickened the tireless pulse's beat 
 
 With the Orator's spell. 
 
 And men thus sighed for the pen of fire 
 To capture the gems of thought 
 
 The heavenly sprite that prompted desire 
 Gave not the art they sought.
 
 38 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 For the coming days and coming years 
 
 I reserve the pen of light ; 
 Toil on thru effort and thru tears, 
 
 The boon shall greet thy sight. 
 
 And so she fled, but in after times 
 She hath stirred the thought again ; 
 
 While Memory kept the book of rhymes, 
 The Monk usurped the pen. 
 
 But anon the Press with glory shone, 
 And our word and speech at last, 
 
 Into a thousand voices grown, 
 Whispered the secret vast. 
 
 And straightway hands with eager zest 
 Caught the accents of her tongue, 
 
 Tho' many a heartache and test 
 Fore'er remain unsung. 
 
 Phonography, in these days of steam, 
 When the lightning flashes by, 
 
 Writes our thoughts like vanishing gleam, 
 And reads them as they fly. 
 
 No more the gold of our words shall rust, 
 But the beauteous gems of thought
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 39 
 
 Shall turn anon to diamond dust, 
 By art of penman caught. 
 
 The little elf, that her task is done, 
 
 Has taken again her flight, 
 To bring, when sands of need are run, 
 
 Another and better light. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., October, 1858. 
 
 hopes. 
 
 Where are the hopes that have never been realized 
 Hopes that were born but to wither and die, 
 
 As beautiful flowers that rise 'mid the desert, 
 Or mirage that greets the wan traveller's eye? 
 
 Gone ! like the hour that gave them a hearing ; 
 
 Gone ! like the bubble that floats on the wave ; 
 Chased by still brighter that dancing before us, 
 
 All, all have now gone to the same common grave. 
 
 Fled ! like the heart's most sweetly tried pleasures: 
 Like roses that blast while they're gaining their birth ; 
 
 Or like the fond child which the parents most cherished, 
 When seeming the dearest, then snatched from the 
 earth. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., 1858.
 
 40 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 3fn pour 
 
 She 's a very pretty maid, 
 
 Is this winsome friend of mine, 
 With her eyes so deeply blue 
 
 That you 'd vow they were divine; 
 But when I tell her of it. 
 
 Then she only makes reply 
 "O witches! witches! witches! 
 
 They are dancing in your eye." 
 
 She's the most bewitching curls 
 
 Ever saucy maiden shook; 
 Her voice is soft and soothing 
 
 Like the murmur of a brook ; 
 When honestly I tell her, 
 
 How provoking the reply 
 " O witches ! witches ! witches ! 
 
 They are dancing in your eye. " 
 
 And she has the sweetest lips 
 That a lover e'er did taste ; 
 
 I kiss the very fingers 
 
 That have stolen round her waist ;
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 41 
 
 I tell her of my worship, 
 
 But she only says, "O fie ! 
 I know I see the witches, 
 
 Dancing in your roguish eye." 
 
 I caress her rounded neck, 
 
 And I pinch her blushing cheek, 
 And coax the pretty dimples 
 
 That are playing hide and seek ; 
 When telling e'er so gently 
 
 Of the heaven when she 's nigh ' 
 With pretty pout she answers, 
 
 "Ah ! the witches in your eye." 
 
 I know not if she loves me 
 
 And I dare not ask the sprite ; 
 Whenever I am near her, 
 
 Resolutions take their flight ; 
 Now isn't it provoking 
 
 That my heart will be so shy 
 Because the hussy taunts me 
 
 With the witches in my eye ? 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., 1858.
 
 4.2 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 On a Picture. 
 
 I 've the sweetest little picture 
 Of my darling one, my own ; 
 
 And it whispers, " Pet, I love you," 
 As I view it here alone. 
 
 And I press it to my bosom, 
 And I clasp it closer still, 
 
 And I cover it with kisses 
 Aye ! and worship it I will. 
 
 Do not chide my fond devotion ; 
 
 For a thousand scenes of yore 
 Kindest mem'ry ever bringeth, 
 
 As I view it o'er and o'er. 
 
 When I press it, though 'tis silent, 
 
 And adjure it as I may, 
 It doth only smile upon me 
 
 And I sadly turn away. 
 
 And there are the jetty ringlets, 
 
 I, in fond dalliance toss ; 
 But they yield not to my pressure, 
 
 As I press the glass across.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 43 
 
 And there, too, the matchless eyes are 
 Laughing wildly, full of glee ; 
 
 But they glance not half so loving 
 As I 've seen them do on me. 
 
 Perfect ! aye, in every feature 
 
 All that's beautiful I view, 
 Gathered in this fairy picture 
 
 In this picture, love, of you. 
 Rochester, N.Y., February I, 1859. 
 
 & Valentine. 
 
 I 'm yours, be jabers, me honey, 
 
 And willfully too, I '11 avow ; 
 Better than jewels or money 
 
 Would be just such a nice little frow. 
 
 There 's a snicker dwells in your eye, 
 And it plays the de'il with my heart ; 
 
 And not even Kilkenny cats vie 
 
 With the music your swate lips impart. 
 
 And troth ! now you must, by me soul, 
 Make oath you 're me darlint divine, 
 
 Or I '11 put you the quicker in goal, 
 Is the vow of 
 
 Your Own Valentine. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., February 18, 1859.
 
 44 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Dedicated to Delia Spaulding. 
 
 The body here enthralls the soul, 
 And wields a tyrant's power ; 
 In vain it struggles to be free, 
 Its clipped wings all powerless be, 
 Its eyes eclipsed from day. 
 
 But God hath given moments here 
 
 When one by one the clouds 
 Lift from the leaden skies o'erhead, 
 And heaven's beams serenely shed 
 Light what the carnal shrouds. 
 
 Few windows hath the captive left 
 
 By ill's destroying power, 
 But now and then it hears a note 
 Come floating from some angel throat 
 That frees it for an hour. 
 
 Music ! how it can thrill the heart 
 
 To gentle influ'nce giv'n ; 
 What melodies, what sweetness, roll, 
 Ecstatic murmurs, thru the soul ! 
 O, 'tis a taste of heav'n !
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 45 
 
 Supremely blest who feels its charm. 
 
 Borne on its rising wing, 
 We seem wrapt in celestial fire, 
 And hear the echoes of the choir 
 
 That with the seraphs sing. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., March 12, 1859. 
 
 O wond'rous book ! What treasures lie 
 
 Within this ample scroll ! 
 TV inspired Poet sweeps his lyre, 
 
 Its music fills the soul. 
 Jehovah speaks, and, silence-awed, 
 
 We tremble at His voice ; 
 The Saviour hence in mercy looks, 
 
 And heav'n and earth rejoice ; 
 The Prophet views within the veil 
 
 God's plans as they are willed ; 
 The great Apostles, ages on, 
 
 Proclaim them as fulfilled ; 
 Law and Mercy here are met, 
 
 And promised Peace is found ; 
 Pardon and Grace and Love from God 
 
 Immeasur'bly abound. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., April, 1859.
 
 46 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Co ^ftolltc. 
 
 Go with our blessing ! We but wish thee well, 
 Though loath to have the ties of friendship riv'n. 
 
 A bond more sacred draws thee, then farewell ! 
 Be thine the bliss of union heaven-giv'n. 
 
 Go with our blessing, bonnie bride, and know, 
 Whate'er befalls thee in this world of change, 
 
 One heart with friendship-flame shall softly glow 
 True unto thee till to itself grown strange. 
 
 Go with our blessing ! Who could wish thee ill, 
 Thou child upon the threshold of new life ? 
 
 Kind Fortune ! suffer not her hopes to chill, 
 But be she e'er as now, a loving wife. 
 
 Her heart hath known its sorrow, whose hath not 
 'Twas but the presence of a cloudy night, 
 
 For lo ! the dawn has come, and O ! the morrow 
 Shall ever be as now begun, all bright. 
 
 To Mary Streeter, Rochester, N.Y., 1860.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 47 
 
 Ah, me ! thought I in my younger days, 
 
 No lassie my heart shall share ; 
 But I '11 sun my wings in their beautiful rays, 
 
 And drink in the breath of the fair. 
 
 But fortunate gifts are the meed of all 
 Whom the gods delight to cherish, 
 
 And the hours came on with kind footfall 
 That bade my resolves to perish. 
 
 A sweet, soft voice has a charm for me. 
 
 Two eyes, with beautiful vision, 
 Look down in my heart that is sworn to be 
 
 Those dear eyes' true elysian. 
 
 The bonds I could not brook to be borne, 
 
 By some strange fascination 
 I gather them now, and clasp me round 
 
 In fondest conjugation.
 
 48 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 To be engaged ! O, who may sing 
 
 How lonely is life's wrestle, 
 Till the dove of love folds its beautiful wing 
 
 In the ark of the heart to nestle. 
 
 To be engaged ! Delightful thus, 
 
 'Mid wooing and caressing, 
 To plan the joys of a wedded bliss, 
 
 A future fraught with blessing. 
 
 No shade to tinge the glowing scene, 
 
 No sigh of sly distrust ; 
 But a magic rapport two hearts between 
 
 Till dust returns to dust. 
 
 'Tis glorious freedom to be engaged 
 When hearts are warm and loyal ; 
 
 The lonely toil is the unassuaged, 
 Imparted joy is royal. 
 
 Carlton, N.Y., February, 1862.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 49 
 
 battle of 
 
 Sad is the wail from a nation's lips, 
 
 As the tale of strife is told; 
 And we count the brave who have found a grave 
 
 Beneath Virginian mold. 
 
 The gallant men of our army came 
 
 To the river's brink that day ; 
 While the shot and shell so thickly fell, 
 
 Yet stoutly battled they. 
 
 One hundred o'er the river of death 
 
 Swept on to the thither shore ; 
 And they captured or slew a murd'rous crew, 
 
 And trophies homeward bore. 
 
 Then swift the fatal bridges spanned 
 
 The tide of the dark river ; 
 On each loyal brigade moves, undismayed, 
 
 They blanch not, nor quiver. 
 
 So roars the battle. God from heaven ! 
 Why bursts not a fiery breath
 
 o My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 To scatter the traitors, the freedom haters, 
 And lay them prone in death? 
 
 On move our men so bravely that day, 
 
 And smile at the conflict dire ; 
 But few return from the waves that burn 
 
 That fatal plain of fire. 
 
 In vain they charge up the blazing crest 
 
 From out the deadly valley ; 
 As the storms of lead and iron sped, 
 
 They sank no more to rally. 
 
 Till darkness came on and stayed the tide 
 
 They bore the unequal strife ; 
 Not an arm had failed, not a heart had quailed, 
 
 For their country was better than life. 
 
 Written just after hearing of the battle. 
 Baldwinsville, N.Y., December, 1862.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Lints 
 
 On the Death of Deacon Lewis Denny. 
 
 Kind was the heart that 's chilled, 
 Pleasant the voice that 's stilled, 
 
 Sadly we grieved. 
 The husband, and father too, 
 Faithful and fond and true, 
 
 Ah ! how bereaved. 
 
 The light of religion glowed 
 Warm in his life, and flowed 
 
 Out to the view. 
 Friend of the poor was he, 
 O'erfull of charity, 
 
 Tender and true. 
 
 No more on earth we '11 meet 
 Him whom our love would greet 
 
 Still, as of old. 
 But our fond hearts recall 
 Memories dear, and all 
 
 Precious as gold.
 
 52 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Under the summer sky 
 There the dear dust doth lie, 
 
 Waiting to rise. 
 Summer is always where 
 Christ and his loved ones are, 
 
 In Paradise. 
 
 Carlton, N.Y., October I, 1863. 
 
 Sleep on, ye dead, who sculptured are 
 In Liberty's high temple-niche ; 
 
 No storied death of bard or sage 
 Doth so earth's honor-scroll enrich. 
 
 Sleep on, ye dead ! Your blood shall be 
 The call to millions who shall go ; 
 
 They listen to your voice of fame, 
 The sweetest music they can know. 
 
 Sleep on, ye dead ! But ever near 
 
 Their whispering lures are on the breeze ; 
 
 High words of hope and heav'nly cheer 
 These sacred dead can offer these.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 53 
 
 Sleep on, ye dead ! Be ours to hear 
 The storm of shot and bursting shell, 
 
 To keep the flag ye shrouded wear, 
 Defending which ye bravely fell. 
 
 Brave spirits these ! God knows them well. 
 
 Ben Adhem's fault their fault hath been : 
 Their flag, and honor too, they loved, 
 
 And e'en they loved their fellow men. 
 
 Sleep on, ye dead ! God marketh where 
 The sparrows fall. We leave you now, 
 
 Calm be your rest ! No battle-pain 
 Shall wrinkle o'er your pallid brow. 
 
 To live as ye have lived, for man, 
 
 And with the patriot's meed to die, 
 
 Your dust in honor more than bronze or stone 
 Shall sleep in glory's temple high. 
 
 Arlington, District of Columbia, 1865.
 
 54 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Lobe anto 3Dut?. 
 
 O Lord of love, thy love is life to me. 
 
 How safe am I within its sheltering arms ! 
 If thou wert angry, whither should I flee : 
 
 But thy love frees me from life's rude alarms. 
 
 It knows no changes, mingles no alloy, 
 Moves ever with me as the days I spend, 
 
 Allays my sorrow, multiplies my joy ; 
 It shows no weakness, as it has no end. 
 
 When rudely beat the storms about my way, 
 How blest the heart of my true Lord to share ! 
 
 No shadow-cloud can e'er eclipse my day, 
 No harm befall me while He keeps me there. 
 
 Let duty call me, then, though dangers lie 
 Thick as autumnal leaves about my path ; 
 
 From duty's post the faithful never fly, 
 The true to Christ no peril ever hath. 
 
 Adams, N.Y., September 10, 1873.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 55 
 
 Beauty Proton 
 
 Ah, me ! what are eyes that they dazzle us so, 
 Glinting into our hearts as they come and go ? 
 Is color their magic, black, hazel, or blue ? 
 I cannot say surely it is not. Can you ? 
 
 My eyes that are beauties are marvellous brown, 
 With richness of lustre and softness of down ; 
 And each changing glance gives a variant hue. 
 Who knows how the glances can charm us ? Do you ? 
 
 Sweet eyes, full of witches, thrill me with delight ; 
 Sweet eyes that I love set in opaline white ; 
 Brown eyes and long lashes with soul looking thru. 
 Is soul what enchants us ? I say not ; do you ? 
 
 My beauty brown eyes, full of soul, full of fire, 
 Speak softly of love and are fond with desire. 
 The womanly heart of these eyes that are true 
 May tell what has charmed me. I do not, do you ? 
 
 Whenever I meet them, in country or town, 
 The blue eyes or black eyes, or hazel or brown,
 
 56 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 If the beauty brown eyes be mine, then for you 
 
 Be the black eyes that flash, or the blue that are true. 
 
 If the brown eyes look scorn, my heart rings alarm ; 
 If friendly they turn, it responds to the charm ; 
 If the old light dies out, hope dies with me too ; 
 If it gleams, it says the brown eyes are for you. 
 
 Adams, N.Y., September 15, 1873. 
 
 Courage. 
 
 Courage ! The world is on wings ! Don't you see? 
 Today its dark shadows may flit over thee, 
 Tomorrow its face shall gleam like the sun. 
 Whisper this to thy heart, thou sorrowing one. 
 
 Courage ! The world is on wings ! Don't you know 
 Today for others true pleasure may flow, 
 But tomorrow, to those who can wait for the cup, 
 The joy shall be deeper for waiting. Cheer up ! 
 
 Courage ! The world is on wings ! Art dismayed ? 
 It cannot keep bright eyes always in shade. 
 Pray and believe, and your light, to be sure, 
 The longer it waits, will the longer endure.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 57 
 
 Courage ! The world is on wings ! See it go ! 
 Its movement the tried spirit deemeth but slow. 
 Yet blessings divine are worth all they can cost, 
 And patience in waiting on Christ is not lost. 
 
 Waterville, Maine, January 1 6, 1874. 
 
 I 've a vision sweet to tell you, 
 
 Of an angel discovered below, 
 Fairer and sweeter than "Christabel" 
 
 As we saw her in "long ago." 
 
 She came when the birds of summer 
 
 Were singing their sweetest lays, 
 When the flowers grow fair and lovely 
 
 And the light-winged zephyr plays. 
 
 She came as the angels come, 
 
 At the twilight hour of day, 
 With a footstep light as a fairy 
 
 And a heart like the sunny May. 
 
 She 'd a brow as fair as the snowdrift, 
 And her eyes were soft and blue, 
 
 And you 'd thought she 'd woven the sunbeams 
 In her ringlets of golden hue.
 
 5 8 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 But soon we missed our Myrtle, 
 
 And we sought where the bird had flown 
 
 Alas ! the flower was fading, 
 
 The prize we had thought our own. 
 
 As the bright leaves fade in the autumn, 
 And the freshest blown roses decay, 
 
 As the birds of the summer fly homeward, 
 So Myrtie was taken away. 
 
 And we buried her there in the valley 
 
 In the twilight alone, 
 And the grass is green above her, 
 
 And the flowers are sweetly blown. 
 
 And they say, as often homeward 
 The workman bends his way, 
 
 That he stops by the grave in the valley 
 And bows him low to pray. 
 
 And a thousand blessings daily 
 
 Are left by the passing few 
 On Myrtie, the daughter of sunshine, 
 
 Who went like the early dew. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., March 7, 1880.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 59 
 
 toentp=ffftl) Slnnitcrjfarp, Claea of 1858. 
 
 At the Class Tree, University of Rochester. 
 
 Thus sang my Muse, May day of " '58," 
 When gathered here this sapling tree we set ; 
 
 Tho' time has reft us, we now meet elate 
 To sing and say our oldtime blessings yet. 
 
 So flew the years, as hours flee ; 
 
 Today we 're met, in genial, merry mind, 
 Around this firstling of a giant tree, 
 
 Perhaps to leave it evermore behind ; 
 Telling who set, who love it, and who ever, 
 
 While time shall spare us, with unwavering 
 
 power, 
 Shall hold in mem'ry till life's bond shall sever 
 
 The recollection of this pleasing hour. 
 
 A few more years, and, like the autumn leaves 
 
 Down falling by the early frost, 
 Our manhood days in ripened sheaves 
 
 Will be all gathered. Not one that 's lost 
 Will e'er come back to claim its right. 
 
 And so we part, some here, some there,
 
 60 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 To float life's fretted sea a night, 
 ( As waifs are lifted by the rushing tide, ) 
 Ere comes the day eternal, ever fair. 
 
 Busy care shall thus consume away 
 
 These healthy frames ; the flush of strength 
 
 Be changed into life's feeble beat, and the gray 
 Participators in this scene at length 
 
 Shall lay life's burdens at the Master's feet, 
 
 'Round God's great tree of life again to meet. 
 
 Five years and twenty, with their logic stern, 
 Have wrought wide changes in our youthful 
 band. 
 
 Hopes kindled high have ceased to burn, 
 
 And garlands fair have turned to ropes of sand. 
 
 Dear classmates, still, whatever fate we 've met, 
 Our good we laud, our failings we forget, 
 While those brave men who to the summit climb 
 We honor well and glad their praises chime. 
 But five and twenty years again shall pass, 
 Then where shall be these brethren of our class ? 
 God knows ! God bless us, and God speed us all, 
 Till at His throne our lifted crowns shall fall. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., July, 1883.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 61 
 
 , the Squirrel 
 
 One day in July, how quick the months fly ! 
 In Bath, on the wharf, Sniggles met us. 
 
 With a tear in her eye and a sorrowful cry, 
 She said, as we looked, " Come and get us." 
 
 And " Please let me come to your dear island home, 
 And swing in your hammock and play ; 
 
 You shall laugh at my plights, and I '11 sleep with 
 
 you nights, 
 And down on the rocks we will stray. 
 
 " I will take from your dish either meat, milk or fish; 
 
 On the table I '11 walk if you '11 let me ; 
 When the cunners you hook, I '11 go with you and 
 look, 
 
 And I '11 eat till you whistle and get me. 
 
 " In the brave 'Tirzah Jane* we '11 glide o'er the 
 
 main, 
 
 The taffrail I '11 walk while we sail ; 
 Strange islands we '11 see, but you '11 never lose me, 
 My attachment to you shall not fail.
 
 6z 
 
 " When westward you go, I will follow you so 
 I am sure you will take me along ; 
 
 By steamer or rail, I '11 be good without fail, 
 And I Ml sing you my cosiest song. 
 
 " Pretty tricks I will play on your hand I will lay, 
 But you 'd better look out for my claw ; 
 
 With a bright looking face and a quick moving grace, 
 When you feed me I Ml give you my paw. 
 
 "Little kits you shall see, just as cunning and wee, 
 
 With colors all matching my own ; 
 And I Ml leave you to care for these orphans so fair, 
 
 While you bury me here all alone. 
 
 " My life, bright and brief, only ended in grief; 
 
 Many thanks for your kindness I give. 
 In your memory hold your Sniggles of old; 
 
 With you it was pleasure to live. 
 
 " In the pear-tree shade, where I often have played, 
 
 Let my grave be tenderly made ; 
 In a pretty lined casket (is it too much to ask it?) 
 Your Sniggles would gently be laid." 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., September, 1885.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 63 
 
 3Tn ;fftem0riam ^fHp parents. 
 
 Rev. Moses Merrill and Eliza Wilcox Merrill his wife. 
 
 Where join Missouri and the Platte, 
 
 Far from the white man's cot, 
 In quest devoted and sincere 
 
 These heroes cast their lot. 
 
 A trackless prairie blossomed there, 
 
 The red man roamed the wild 
 To them they brought the truth of God 
 
 As father brings to child. 
 
 In school and church he labored well, 
 
 In wigwam or the chase ; 
 His word, his work, his life he gave 
 
 To save a dying race. 
 
 Ta-pooth-ka "Man who speaks the truth," 
 
 This is the name he won ; 
 They trusted him, believed in him 
 
 And mourned when life was done.
 
 64 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 In hope and faith he breathed his last, 
 
 And by the river sleeps. 
 The wife and orphan left his dust 
 
 Where God the vigil keeps. 
 
 The wigwam, and the red-man, too, 
 Give way to scene more fair ; 
 
 Memorial bell at Plattsmouth rings 
 This good man's call to prayer. 
 
 Servants of God, at peace you rest; 
 
 No perils now are yours. 
 The work ye wrought for others' good 
 
 For others' good endures. 
 
 Mount Vernon, February 10, 1909, and 
 Plattsmouth, Nebraska, 1889.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 65 
 
 for ttr )eai. 
 
 Mount Hope. 
 
 How many hopes lie buried here 
 
 Our Maker only knows ; 
 Their presence makes the place as dear 
 
 As perfume makes the rose. 
 
 The years sweep by with steady tread, 
 And crowd the roll of sacred dead. 
 When we, who knew and loved them well, 
 Have passed to where their spirits dwell, 
 Ah, who will earthly vigil keep 
 Where our darlings sleep their sleep ? 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., June 23, 1889. 
 
 Our eldest born, Edward Wentworth Merrill, Telegraph Editor of 
 the Rochester Daily Herald, died at twenty years of age, May 
 21, 1886.
 
 66 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Lotoe'0 Dream. 
 
 Was it a dream that love is found 
 
 A rapture pure and sweet, 
 Where hearts in bonds divine are bound 
 
 And love makes life complete ? 
 
 I dreamed it thus in youth's bright hour ; 
 
 My idol won my heart ; 
 But life despoiled the marriage bower, 
 
 And bliss and I must part. 
 
 My dream is vanished in despair, 
 
 My hopes to ashes fly, 
 As garland flowers, light as air 
 
 In faded beauty lie. 
 
 Ah ! wilful was the hand that clave 
 
 That cup of joy so pure ; 
 That spirit selfish as the grave, 
 
 To leave love's heart so poor. 
 
 Not all a dream ! not always so ! 
 
 Some lives with joy are light, 
 Some homes with all its radiance glow, 
 
 Some hearts with love are bright. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., December 3, 1890.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 67 
 
 For Clara Henrietta Thacher and Francis White Stedman. 
 
 Fresh flowers bring for bride so fair, 
 
 Violets rich and lilies rare ; 
 With him she weds the roses share, 
 
 The brave, the debonair. 
 
 The perfumes precious richly send, 
 And odors sweet in plenty blend, 
 
 While happy hearts their joyance lend 
 Till love and life shall end. 
 
 Let music breathe its trancing spell, 
 And brightest notes of promise tell ; 
 
 Of joy's emprize and sorrow's knell 
 The pealing organ swell. 
 
 These words be violets that fall, 
 Be flowers, perfume, music-thrall, 
 
 While heart weds heart in marriage call, 
 Christ's blessing over all. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., February 13, 1893.
 
 68 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 "&l)t i)atl) Bone toljat ghe couli." 
 
 Lines on the death of Mrs. Caroline Shuler Woolverton, 
 wife of George Alonzo Woolverton, of Albany, N. Y. 
 
 Ah ! cold grows the form, and dimmed is the eye, 
 
 And palsied the hand is for aye ; 
 And hushed is the heart and stilled is the breath, 
 
 The tenant is passing away. 
 
 Not there is that soul in the casket so drear, 
 Not there where death has its day ; 
 
 But that life and that mind an eternity find 
 Thou shalt meet them in brighter array. 
 
 How swift is the flight of industrious years 
 
 Since these on the voyage of life, 
 With banners of hope and garlands of love, 
 
 Set sail as husband and wife. 
 
 How holy the ties of such marriage become ! 
 
 How happy the heirs of that love ! 
 Best of mothers was she ; saddest mourners are ye 
 
 Till ye meet her in heaven above. 
 
 Squirrel Island, Maine, August, 1894.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 69 
 
 ;ffttne Etm, 1863, 
 
 And Captain Silvanus Shuler Wilcox, of Albany, N.Y. 
 
 His college sent him forth 
 
 One of her honored sons ; 
 Soci'ty labeled him 
 
 Among her favored ones. 
 
 Business had offered him 
 
 The choicest of her gifts ; 
 Love had rewarded him 
 
 With the hope that uplifts. 
 
 War-clouds were low'ring then 
 
 Our country's life to blast ; 
 Heard he the nation's call, 
 
 His Rubicon was passed. 
 
 Captain they chose him well, 
 
 As able .he as brave ; 
 Yet Fame but offered him 
 
 A patri't's early grave. 
 
 Mine Run was where he fell, 
 
 The sacrifice in vain ; 
 He said, "My mother tell, 
 
 I 'd give my life again."
 
 jo My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 'Gainst a tree they propped him 
 When slowly life had fled ; 
 
 His men that cold hand grasped, 
 Their last "Good-bye" was said. 
 
 Retreating, they left him ; 
 
 The tears were on their cheeks. 
 Another life for man 
 
 God's honor-roll bespeaks. 
 
 Lifetime jFrienU. 
 
 An Acrostic. 
 
 George was true this friend of mine, 
 Each trust in life he deemed divine ; 
 One who in honor none excel, 
 " Right " was the word he loved so well 
 Gain seemed the evil he would shun, 
 Earth 's better for the work he 's done. 
 
 Low he lies in soil he tilled, 
 Buried where his days were filled ; 
 Envy could not curse his soul, 
 Nor revenge his heart control. 
 Tell me, ye who knew him well, 
 Ought that life in lethe dwell ? 
 "No," a thousand answers tell.
 
 My Loves and My Levers 7 i 
 
 ttr Squirrel 
 
 Dedicated to the Ladies' Society of Squirrel Island, Maine, 
 and Professor Edward M. Bowman, A.G.O., F.C.M. 
 
 O island of evergreen verdure ! 
 
 Our bright summer home by the sea ! 
 Thy breath is all balmy with flowers, 
 
 Thy woods waft their fragrance so free ; 
 Thy rocks glisten white o'er the waters, 
 
 A welcome of joy to our view, 
 And, grateful, thy sons and thy daughters 
 
 Lift o'er thee the red, white, and blue. 
 
 Here Hope lights anew her proud beacon, 
 
 Here Health waits again evermore, 
 Here Friendship renews her fond greeting, 
 
 Here Rest lures us safe to thy shore ; 
 Thy waves lapping music before us, 
 
 Fair isles and bright skies in our view, 
 Sweet songs of the birds floating o'er us 
 
 As we raise here the red, white, and blue. 
 
 Here Memory holds her fair treasures 
 Of Fellowship, Truth, and of Love ;
 
 72 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 And brightly they sparkle around us 
 As the stars in the azure above. 
 
 Here aged and youth stand together, 
 
 Pledging "Squirrels we '11 ever be true," 
 
 With glad hearts and voices uplifted 
 
 As we float here the red, white, and blue. 
 
 Squirrel Island, Maine, August 8, 1894. 
 
 ne of tfce Jrto. 
 
 Miss Clara Peck. 
 
 'Mid the many and the lowly 
 There she had her humble birth ; 
 
 Only angels knew how holy 
 
 Was this child who came to earth. 
 
 Where the busy throng was thickest, 
 Where was poverty and crime, 
 
 Where the pangs of want were quickest 
 There was found this soul sublime. 
 
 Vainly wooed this love or other ; 
 
 She would share the nobler strife, 
 T' help a widowed, struggling mother 
 
 Rear her children up to life.
 
 My Loves and My Loven 73 
 
 What if fell disease should take her ! 
 
 What if wage and life were lost ! 
 This were only aim to make her 
 
 Proud to die at such a cost. 
 
 So she sleeps, and this the story ; 
 
 No one sees the grave she shares. 
 Now God's angels speak her glory ; 
 
 She 's found honor unawares. 
 
 Died June 5, 1895, aged thirty years. 
 
 ' Call. 
 
 Patter the feet along the street, 
 Ring the schoolward voices clear ; 
 
 Let the coo and call of the schoolmates fall 
 On the eager listening ear. 
 
 Whose feet shall chill, whose voice be still, 
 Of these who pass your door ? 
 
 The brightest of all and sprightliest call 
 Are the ones we hear no more. 
 
 O call divine ! O loved of thine ! 
 
 Sounds heaven's charming voice ; 
 The school-books fall, and earth-loves all 
 
 Are left for her Saviour's choice.
 
 74 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 She seeks His arms, she speaks His charms, 
 
 Death has no terrors now ; 
 To Him she flies, with Him she dies, 
 
 His "new name" on her brow. 
 
 In visions fair we see her, where 
 
 To heaven she brings us nigh ; 
 Her call rings clear to loved ones dear, 
 
 As it did in the days gone by. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., October 15, 1895. 
 
 Mabel Adams, the little daughter of Dr. and Mrs. Myron H. 
 Adams, of Rochester, N.Y. She left them for the Lord she 
 loved, in February, 1895, and her school -girl call ceased to echo 
 on the street. 
 
 l)jnnn. 
 
 God of our Fathers ! here we raise 
 Our hymn of lofty, grateful praise ; 
 All glory Thine, Eternal One, 
 Almighty Father, Spirit, Son. 
 
 To Thee our tribute-blessings throng ; 
 Thy love and favor claim our song ; 
 Our cheerful hearts give thanks and sing 
 The mercies of our God and King.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 75 
 
 This house with all it holds be Thine ! 
 Gifts of the heart, gifts of the mine. 
 We dedicate it, Lord, to Thee ! 
 Seal it forever, Thine to be. 
 
 Claiming this temple for Thine own, 
 Here make Thy gracious presence known; 
 While sermon, organ, voice, and prayer 
 Thy power and blessing ever share. 
 
 Written for and sung to the tune "Duke Street" at the dedication 
 of the Baptist Temple, Brooklyn, December I, 1895. 
 
 of 
 
 Far off in Judah's ancient city, 
 
 Bethlehem old, 
 There rose the star of hope and pity 
 
 By prophecy foretold. 
 
 So we hail thy rising splendor, 
 
 Star of hope to earth ! 
 Heaven's love for us so true and tender 
 
 Heralds abroad its birth.
 
 7 6 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Once angel words and angel voices 
 
 Brought men to see ; 
 Now every heart that trusts rejoices, 
 
 Star of the Heavens, in thee. 
 
 Faith finds in thee its light of beauty, 
 
 Star, star divine ; 
 Bright looks the thorny path of duty 
 
 Wherever thou dost shine. 
 
 Bright stars may kindly glow and leave us, 
 
 This still shall shine ; 
 Fond hopes may often here deceive us, 
 
 But nevermore will thine. 
 
 See how that beauteous star is beaming, 
 
 Wider the sway, 
 Till we in heaven's glory gleaming 
 
 Enter the perfect day. 
 
 Written at Squirrel Island, Maine, for the Baptist Temple Sunday- 
 school, Brooklyn, N. Y., at the request of Prof. E. M. Bowman, 
 Musical Director. Tune, "Swanee River."
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 77 
 
 Dedicated to 
 
 C&e Cenltan Cfjoir, of ItUtoarfc, J3. ]J. 
 
 Prof. E. M. Bowman, Leader. 
 
 By the far-sounding sea, Saint Cecilia, to thee 
 
 We make this memorial shrine ; 
 Rock-ribbed and eternal, spruce-crowned and supernal, 
 
 Fair patron of Music, 'tis thine. 
 
 Happy pilgrims are we, o'er the wide rolling sea, 
 
 To thee our devotions aspire ; 
 As with chorus and song thy praise we prolong, 
 
 We 're thine own Cecilian choir. 
 
 And we bring thee the fame we have shared in thy name, 
 'Mid pleasures no palace could mete ; 
 
 And the work we have done and the badges we ' ve won 
 We lovingly lay at thy feet. 
 
 For thy memory, too, to each other we 're true, 
 
 And our leader we follow the more ; 
 And here oft may we be at this shrine by the sea, 
 
 This choir and leader galore. 
 
 Squirrel Island, Maine, August 13, 1895. 
 
 Sung at the Memorial Rock dedication, by the choir.
 
 78 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 On her Birthday. 
 
 Sweet babe, by heaven sent, 
 How could'st thou be content 
 
 With us to dwell ? 
 Realms full of cheer there were, 
 What could we offer her? 
 
 Answer and tell. 
 
 Now graced with womanhood, 
 Trained in the true and good, 
 
 Forward she turns ; 
 Life's battle must be won, 
 Life's duty must be done, 
 
 This she discerns. 
 
 Shrouded in myst'ry grand, 
 She may not understand 
 
 Where duty leads ; 
 But from true courage bold 
 Naught can the prize withhold, 
 
 'T is Worth succeeds. 
 
 When she to heav'n returns, 
 And home again discerns 
 Bright as the sun,
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 79 
 
 With her may many stand, 
 Led by her loving hand, 
 Her duty done. 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., January 15, 1897. 
 
 Death, death is here, so waxy pale. 
 
 How dwells such strength in fingers bold, 
 To seal your boy and bear him hence, 
 
 And make that warm young life so cold ? 
 
 His plate no more is waiting laid, 
 
 His empty chair stands now in vain ; 
 
 His pillow finds no impress there, 
 His voice, his step, come not again. 
 
 His last good-byes to friends are said, 
 
 Life's reveille for him is o'er ; 
 His lessons done, vacation days 
 
 Verge on and on forevermore. 
 
 The plan of God unveils to thee, 
 
 Parents with mind and heart distressed ; 
 
 Say thou, "He doeth all things well," 
 And trust divine shall fill thy breast. 
 
 His life "with Christ in God is hid," 
 So yours beneath His sky may be ;
 
 80 My Loves and Afy Lovers 
 
 Your lamb within the fold is safe, 
 His tender Shepherd leadeth thee. 
 
 Let not a gloom dim all thy days ; 
 
 Two suns shine on this world of ours : 
 The brightest, "big with righteousness," 
 
 Shall cheer thy way with heav'nly flowers. 
 
 Gordon Merrill, the son of Prof, and Mrs. Forbes (University of 
 Rochester, N.Y.,) died December 24, 1897. 
 
 When morning wakes and shadows flee, 
 O may we, Lord, abide in thee ; 
 
 No care can then our spirits blight, 
 
 Thy hand our guide, thy smile our light. 
 
 Should sorrows rend and sins distress, 
 If us thy power and love shall bless, 
 
 No pangs can harm, no sins allure, 
 For thou art comfort, thou art pure. 
 
 Tho' Satan's darts could sorely wound, 
 If in thy grace our souls are found, 
 
 Thy love shall our sure refuge be, 
 While Satan with his darts doth flee. 
 
 Squirrel Island, Maine, July, 1898. 
 
 May be sung to " Hursley " (Sun of my Soul) .
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 8 1 
 
 10 
 
 We are gathered here, my comrades, in a battle for 
 
 the Lord, 
 He has given us commission and we dare not break 
 
 His word ; 
 To save our race and people is the call that we have 
 
 heard, 
 
 And Shaw is marching on ! 
 
 Professionals are arming with the law and gospel too, 
 Our Medicals are skilled enough to show what they 
 
 can do ; 
 With grace and health and order, our race is coming 
 
 through, 
 
 For Shaw is marching on ! 
 
 The College with its phalanxes of men and women 
 
 brave, 
 Armed with the torch of learning, goes where error 
 
 would enslave, 
 
 And ignorance and superstition quickly find their grave, 
 When Shaw goes marching on. 
 
 The school-house, too, is looming through the hazes 
 
 of the east ; 
 As the sun in splendor rising, so its light shall be 
 
 increased ;
 
 8 2 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 For the Normals are not wanting to Shaw's life- 
 giving feast, 
 
 As Shaw goes marching on. 
 
 And Estey lifts her pean true and noble would 
 
 she be ; 
 The Daughters of Salvation, their nation's growth 
 
 to see ; 
 The homes of all their people enlightened, pure, and 
 
 free, 
 
 While Shaw goes marching on ! 
 
 CHORUS : 
 
 Glory, glory, hallelujah ! Glory, glory, hallelujah ! 
 Glory, glory, hallelujah ! Shaw is marching on. 
 
 Shaw University, Raleigh, N. C., 1899. 
 Charles Francis Meserve, LL.D., President. 
 
 Oc -Uoiuman SDrama. 
 
 In Vermont, they allege, 
 Are the farms set on edge, 
 
 Where they till both sides if they can. 
 Here lived, I am told, 
 A farmer so bold 
 
 He was .called by his neighbors Bow-man.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 83 
 
 One episode thrills 
 
 In that home mid the hills, 
 
 If episode it could be called ; 
 Little Edward, they say, 
 Looked out on the day, 
 
 But as soon as he saw it he squalled. 
 
 His training came early 
 His temper was curly, 
 
 'T was just the same as his hair ; 
 On his mother's knee, Oh ! 
 Lay this little rain-Bow, 
 
 And her slipper just fitted him there. 
 
 With that early bent, 
 What music he sent, 
 
 Like Handel, the master sublime ! 
 Tho' no Bow she drew, 
 'T was the tap of her shoe- 
 Piano on his organs kept time. 
 
 When he grew to a man, 
 He sought "Mary Ann," 
 
 Her Bow as gay as a prince ; 
 For Cupid's sharp arrow 
 Cleft clear to the marrow, 
 
 And the man 's been her Bow ever since.
 
 84 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Now, dowered for life, 
 Fond music, dear wife, 
 
 At his call St. Cecilia comes down ; 
 With the love of his art, 
 And the love of his heart, 
 
 What wonder he wins such renown ! 
 
 Then came little Bess, 
 The sweet Bowmaness, 
 
 And the home seems completed at length ; 
 So this birthday we hold, 
 May he never grow old, 
 
 But the Bowman abide in his strength ! 
 
 Squirrel Island, July 1 8, 1899. 
 
 'T was here, in stately Rome, 
 Earth's capital so great, 
 
 That thou laidst quickly down 
 Thy youthful life elate. 
 
 Fond teacher of the way 
 To heaven's gate so near,
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 85 
 
 Thou foundest it thyself, 
 
 Thine entrance gate was here. 
 
 A pilgrim from the land 
 
 Of God's most favored race, 
 In this old home of Paul 
 
 Thy footsteps found a place. 
 
 And as he entered bliss 
 
 From out these mountains seven, 
 So thou didst find the way 
 
 From here, from Rome, to Heav'n. 
 
 That spark so quick and bright, 
 
 So dear to many a heart, 
 Kindled by life divine, 
 
 Why should it thus depart? 
 
 God knew the mournful tale, 
 
 And Wisdom cannot err ; 
 God took him, and He is 
 
 His own interpreter. 
 
 Church, parent, wife, and friend 
 
 Alike may mourn their loss ; 
 Their problem hard is solved, 
 
 They bear today Christ's cross.
 
 86 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 So, softly, tears may fall 
 
 In sorrow's bitter cup ; 
 God's rainbow spans them all, 
 
 Life's storms will all clear up. 
 
 Written in Rome, Italy. 
 
 The Rev. George F. Love was pastor of the West Baptist Church, 
 Oswego, N. Y., and was among the most efficient of the younger 
 ministers in the State of New York. He was stricken with 
 contagion in Rome, and after two weeks' illness passed away in 
 1901, leaving his young wife, Mrs. Harriet R. Love, alone in a 
 strange land. Consul-General De Castro and Dr. Taylor's Mis 
 sionary family came grandly to her aid. 
 
 In far Algiers, on evergreen-crowned heights, 
 
 God's acre fronts the sea ; 
 There sleep the dead in sunny peace at last, 
 
 For-e'er to be. 
 
 On Afric's headland, circling to the bay, 
 
 Under the light blue skies, 
 Mirrored anear in splashing waters blue, 
 
 There 's where he lies. 
 
 Life's bond of kinship had in him their round 
 
 Of husband, sire, and son, 
 And love's fond thoughts shall follow him afar, 
 
 Beloved one.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 87 
 
 Long was the road from health to where he fell, 
 
 The journey ever brave, 
 And well contested vict'ry death can boast 
 
 Upon his grave. 
 
 The rest for which he sighed is his henceforth, 
 
 And pain can rack no more. 
 Farewell ! God send they all may meet again, 
 
 When life is o'er. 
 
 Algiers, March 5, 1901. 
 
 from >a(jel to tljc l>ea. 
 
 In Afric', land of sunshine and of story, 
 Where the blue waves lave a rugged shore, 
 
 Where cities rose and fell, and pirates gory 
 Ply dread and savage orgies nevermore, 
 
 There rise the Atlas, and, beyond, the valley 
 Lies rich in blossom, corn, and wine ; 
 
 The " pass " that links them, where the mountains rally, 
 Is "Chabet," dark and grand, almost divine. 
 
 So from the headland of my life I 'm viewing 
 The long fair valley that my feet have trod, 
 
 Content to know the path that I 'm pursuing 
 Leads thru a "Chabet" to the sea and God.
 
 88 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 I 've watched the joys of youth and age a-gleaming 
 In Holy land and land of poet's song; 
 
 In love and friendship and in art a- dreaming, 
 The joys of all of them to me belong. 
 
 What matters it that friendly climes are chilling, 
 That pain, disease, and weariness combine ! 
 
 With heart still brave and with a spirit willing 
 I '11 live for those who love me and are mine. 
 
 So forth I look : and there, in picture beaming, 
 Are childhood, manhood, fatherhood, for me ; 
 
 'Mid Afric' flowers and sunlight brightly streaming, 
 Life limns my pathway from Sahel to the sea. 
 
 Algiers, March 19, 1901. 
 
 Jftotre >ame U'Sttriqtte, 8 liters. 
 
 Far out upon the waters wild 
 
 The keen-eyed sailor, sweeping by, 
 
 Discerns a dome, a templed shrine : 
 'T is Notre Dame that greets his eye. 
 
 He knows that there, on "Holy day," 
 Whate'er the cares of life may be, 
 
 A prayer is said and blessings made : 
 That blessing greets him o'er the sea.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 So I, upon the sea of life, 
 
 'Mid storm and peril pressing fast, 
 
 See "Notre Dame," my mother's face, 
 And know her love is o'er me cast. 
 
 Whate'er my lot, where'er I be, 
 
 Her love and thought attend my way, 
 
 And on life's verge she prays for me, 
 And blessings greet me day by day. 
 
 God bless her ! keep her ! help her, too ! 
 
 Make grateful her declining days, 
 Till, like the temple by the sea, 
 
 She 's glory-crowned in sunset rays. 
 
 Algiers, March 29, 1901. 
 
 .3UI)en6 anto tbc 3mcnran 
 
 Who loves thee not, has never known 
 
 Thy pride and power and wond'rous lore 
 
 Who loves thee not, has never seen 
 Thy sunny skies and welcome shore. 
 
 Thy flowers that bloom in beauty wild 
 
 Are set in poet's amber verse ; 
 Thy trees that lift their leafy arms 
 
 Ten thousand fairy deeds rehearse.
 
 go My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Who stirs a leaf, who picks a shell, 
 Who lifts a spade or turns a stone, 
 
 Awakes some glory of the past, 
 In storied beauty all its own. 
 
 From out thy rocky caves there troop 
 Those satyrs, gay with flute and dance 
 
 And from thy fortress peering down 
 Are seen the phalanx all a-lance. 
 
 There Cyclops walled, Hephestus toiled, 
 And Heracles his honors shared ; 
 
 Athena, grand in spear and shield, 
 
 With power and wisdom danger dared. 
 
 Art-crowned Acropolis art thou, 
 In golden glory's matchless reign ! 
 
 A thousand years of genius live 
 In fragments on thy scarred plain. 
 
 The whisp'ring winds on Bema tell 
 How eloquence can lead the soul ; 
 
 And ruined Dionysus gives 
 
 The tragic thunder's stately roll. 
 
 Callirrhoe its waters pours, 
 
 Illissus' bed the torrent knows,
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 91 
 
 i 
 
 Hymettus' honeyed hillside gleams, 
 And Daphne in the sunset glows. 
 
 In silence lift those pillars grand 
 
 Of Jupiter Olympus' shrine; 
 And, close, the ruined archways stand 
 
 Of Hadrian, named by Rome divine. 
 
 O School interpreting this lore, 
 
 The shrines are gone, the fanes are dead ! 
 
 They look to thee to give them voice 
 Their priests and priestesses have fled. 
 
 So daughters fair, and sons of light 
 
 And liberty, beyond the sea, 
 Climb Mount Parnassus' snowy height, 
 
 Quaff Helicon's soft mystery. 
 
 Athens, January I, 1903. 
 
 Sent to American School of Archaeology in recognition of courtesies 
 
 enjoyed by the writer. It was read to the school by Professor 
 
 Richardson January i, 1903.
 
 92 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 There's none like "Uncle Sam," 
 
 Our servant and our king ; 
 On errands great he loves to wait, 
 
 And joy to his children bring. 
 
 So here by post I find 
 
 A pretty box all white, 
 With wedding-cake for friendship's sake, 
 
 Before me as I write. 
 
 The cake is made of flour, 
 
 All sugared to the taste, 
 And stuffed and crossed with fruit and frost, 
 
 And crowned with paper laced. 
 
 Such be your life, my friends ; 
 
 Life's flower be with you now, 
 Life's sugar sweet, life's fruit complete, 
 
 Till you wear the frosty "pou." 
 
 Squirrel Island, Maine, July 22, 1903.
 
 93 
 
 <2Tbe Cavlton honee, ^cUfftutrU, Aflame, 
 
 The home of Col. Rowland Carlton and Susan Merrill Carlton. 
 
 One day agone the house was young, 
 
 The wonder of the town ; 
 Its praise admiring neighbors sang, 
 
 And great was its renown. 
 
 The best the times afforded then 
 
 Made up its treasures grand, 
 Great rooms, with use and beauty stored, 
 
 Were ample at command. 
 
 Wide halls and easy winding stairs 
 
 Convenience lend and grace, 
 And sloping downward toward the sea 
 
 It showed its massive face. 
 
 The master, tall, with fine physique, 
 
 The wife, with noble mien, 
 The children, beautiful and bright, 
 
 What fairer sight is seen ? 
 
 Their birthplace fond and sacred still, 
 
 Their home of childhood fair, 
 The tryst where lovers told their love, 
 
 Where weddings glad the air ; 
 
 6a
 
 94 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Where cheer and jollity combine 
 
 To make the hours fly ; 
 Where host and guest are happy all, 
 
 And hearts with hopes beat high ; 
 
 It has its zenith, grand old home ! 
 
 Gray hairs bedeck its lords ; 
 Age steals apace, life's music dulls ; 
 
 Death snaps the tender chords. 
 
 The scion, last to leave its doors, 
 
 Is borne away for aye ; 
 The shutters close, the walls are dim, 
 
 The furniture is gray. 
 
 Mementos sad of hands a-dust, 
 
 We leave you fondly so, 
 'Mid echoes ling' ring softly still 
 
 Of loved ones long ago. 
 
 We leave you thus, O mansion old ! 
 
 Thou 'st bravely borne thy part ; 
 The stranger step shall greet thee soon, 
 
 For thou art "on the mart" ! 
 
 North Sedgwick, Maine, September, 1903.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Nature shows a bleak allure 
 
 When roses flee and leaflets fall ; 
 
 But Nature, then in garner pure, 
 Is gath'ring beauty for us all. 
 
 So, baby bright, you came to earth 
 
 When snows were blown and trees were bare ; 
 
 But ever since you 've scattered blooms 
 Of sweetest fragrance on the air. 
 
 And so we celebrate the day : 
 
 Friends love you for your kindness shown, 
 The stranger gladdens as you pass, 
 
 Your loved ones love you for their own. 
 
 Fanny Philbrick-Meserve. 
 
 Raleigh, N. C., December 20, 1903. 
 
 Christ our C|)ief Cornerstone. 
 
 Tune, ' ' America. ' ' 
 
 Thy gracious Name adore, 
 
 Whose blessings evermore 
 
 Bring joy and peace.
 
 96 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 While angels gladly sing, 
 Our songs of praises ring 
 To our Eternal King, 
 Never to cease. 
 
 Accept our gift, we pray, 
 Whose cornerstone we lay, 
 
 House for thy praise. 
 Build, then, this Zion now, 
 Chief cornerstone art Thou ! 
 Let vict'ry crown Thy brow, 
 
 Ancient of Days ! 
 
 So shall the lost be found, 
 So shall the gospel's sound 
 
 Quicken the dead, 
 Faith guide with heav'nly ray, 
 Hope kindle night to day, 
 Love show the perfect way, 
 
 Through Christ, our Head. 
 
 Written for the College Avenue Baptist Church, Annapolis, Md., 
 May 18, 1905, and sung at the laying of the cornerstone of the 
 new meeting-house, May 20, and also on the day of dedication. 
 Written at the request of my cousin, George Earnest Merrill, 
 by whose efforts and generosity the beautiful house of worship was 
 made possible.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 97 
 
 QTfje fjiertan 
 
 Read at the dedication of the Squirrel Island Library building, 
 which, together with the books, was the gift of the Island Presi 
 dent, Albert H. Davenport, of Maiden, Massachusetts. 
 
 Our island of beauty and friendship and health 
 Looks proud, from her balms and her firs ; 
 
 For today she 's endowed, not with millions of wealth, 
 But the "gems of the ages are hers." 
 
 O favored of Fortune ! bright island serene ! 
 
 Whose charms make us glad at thy call ! 
 Thou hast a fond lover, who, modest of mien, 
 
 Has made thee the richest of all. 
 
 With a generous heart and a bounteous hand 
 
 He brings thee a knight-errant brave ; 
 Other islands are fair, other islands are grand, 
 
 But he makes thee the queen of the wave. 
 
 Here the "Squirrel" that came to our welcoming bay 
 
 Furled its sails in our safety and rest ; 
 And our "Fountain of Youth" bubbled up to its day 
 
 Tho it knew not the worth of its quest. 
 
 When the ages had passed, and the island awoke, 
 One day came these "Squirrels" that be,
 
 98 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 And the pleasures they sought, and the words that 
 
 they spoke, 
 Made the island our home by the sea. 
 
 So today has been opened a fountain of joy, 
 
 To flow while the centuries roll ; 
 And the wealth of its treasures, unmixed with alloy, 
 
 Shall bring wisdom and cheer to the soul. 
 
 Like the "spring," every comer finds beauteous store, 
 Each "taste" waits its word of command, 
 
 And the Muses are dwelling among us once more 
 At this fountain Pierian, grand ! 
 
 Like the story of him who grew daily more kind, 
 
 Till his face reflected his soul, 
 We are gathered to honor the generous mind 
 
 That such generous deed could control. 
 
 Proud of honors like these, all the "Squirrels" unite 
 
 To give to the giver our " toast" ; 
 For amid all the "ports" that our State can delight, 
 
 Daven-port is the best on the coast. 
 
 Squirrel Island, August, 1905.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 99 
 
 Better than <0altt. 
 
 land of the sunshine and flowers ! 
 O home of the palm and the rose ! 
 
 Where life, 'mid its soft-moving hours, 
 Finds bounty and cheer and repose, 
 
 I've longed to behold thee again 
 
 Where fragrance and beauty are found, 
 
 Where mountain and valley and glen 
 With wealths of the ages abound. 
 
 So here, when the mountains are passed, 
 The storms and the deserts have fled, 
 
 1 wake 'mid thy riches at last 
 
 With summer-soft skies overhead. 
 
 But better than these, to my view, 
 
 After years of longing and pain, 
 The friendships of eld I renew, 
 
 And get back my old loves again. 
 
 Los Angeles, California, November 9, 1905. 
 Referring to the family of my dear friend, deceased, the Rev. L. S. 
 Sands.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 ig; Crecs! 
 
 Ye monarchs of forest and glen, 
 Lifted high where the ages ye ken, 
 Looking heaven aface, 
 Holding earthward your place, 
 Time's sentinel grand ye have been. 
 
 For you Nature's world is ajar, 
 
 And its wireless messages are, 
 Floated down from the sun, 
 While the leaves, one by one, 
 
 Tell the story of man from afar. 
 
 Beside thee the mountains have piled, 
 And the torrents have chiseled the wild ; 
 
 The storm's havoc has wrought, 
 
 Human malice has fought, 
 While ye waved in peace undefiled. 
 
 God's hymns of the ages, so choice, 
 Out of sunshine and storm ye give voice ; 
 
 And the songs that ye sing, 
 
 And the glory ye bring, 
 Your Monarch and Maker rejoice. 
 
 Written at "Big Tree," California, November 13, 1905.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 101 
 
 hniuau, the -firulab Lanfc. 
 
 Who knows the wonders of those days of old, 
 
 O islands of the mid-Pacific land, 
 Where Nature reared in majesty sublime 
 
 Your cratered mountains and your valleys grand : 
 
 Who knows, when drifting o'er a stormy wave, 
 The shipwrecked trav'ller reached these virgin isles r 
 
 Who knows the story of that native race, 
 
 Cradled in sunshine, where God's bounty smiles? 
 
 Long rolled the year, mid scenes of love and hate ; 
 
 Ease followed languor as night follows day ; 
 To idols dread were human ofF'rings paid, 
 
 And infant murder showed how wrong held sway. 
 
 For God's good bounty hovers over all, 
 Howe'er the years may seem to linger so ; 
 
 The idols vanished was Hawaii's call 
 
 His servants hear their Lord's command and go. 
 
 So lifts a nation to the light of day ; 
 
 So Pele's superstitions fade and die ; 
 So kings and princes own Jehovah's sway, 
 
 And light divine illumes Hawaii's sky. 
 
 In richness now those hills and valleys grand, 
 Adorned with beauty and with bounty laid,
 
 IO2 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Offer to all the rights that man has won, 
 
 Where God is worshipped and His love displayed. 
 
 Fare on, O isles ! this beauty -land for us, 
 
 Where love of man for man holds widest sway ; 
 
 Where kindest hearts in Christian charity 
 
 Have seen man's day-star, and have led the way. 
 
 Ye native sons and daughters of the soil, 
 
 Lift high your hopes ! Jehovah is your friend ! 
 
 Seek first His kingdom, and, whate'er betide, 
 His hand will guide you and His love attend. 
 
 No land like this adorns this varied globe, 
 
 Where plenty, health, and comfort kindly vie, 
 
 Where breeze refreshes, and mist paints the bow, 
 And Summer June is its eternity. 
 
 Honolulu, H. I., March 3, 1906. 
 
 3fa ^Remortam. 
 
 Mrs. Sarah D. Bogardus Cheney. 
 My friend is dead ! 
 And does it mean that never more 
 
 I am to see her face and hear her voice ? 
 
 Those words of dread ! 
 My saddened heart is sick and sore. 
 It must be ! I 've no other choice.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 103 
 
 My friend is dead ! 
 
 Since youth she's been my steadfast friend, 
 And kindness, like a shuttle's play, 
 
 Wove thread on thread 
 Of friendly patterns without end : 
 But they are done this grievous day. 
 
 My friend is dead ! 
 
 Yet Mem'ry's pleasing chimes ring sweet 
 To greet my list'ning, eager ear. 
 
 To heaven she sped, 
 Her gracious Master's call to greet, 
 
 And there she waits us with good cheer. 
 
 My friend is dead ! 
 I saw her happy girlhood days, 
 
 I wed her to her young heart's love ; 
 
 When his life fled, 
 I pointed her to heavenly ways, 
 
 And she has found them now above. 
 
 My friend is dead ! 
 Nor I, alone, am grieving here : 
 
 Her widowed husband feels the blow 
 
 And bows his head, 
 And kindred gathered ro.und her bier, 
 
 And friends that knew and loved her so. 
 Honolulu, H. I., March 4, 1906.
 
 i c4 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 "<&* Beautiful, t&e Crtte, antj tlje 
 
 A Tribute 
 
 To Albert H. Davenport, of Boston, Massachusetts, 
 President of the Squirrel Island Association. 
 
 As falls the rugged oak, 
 
 With clangor deep and loud, 
 
 Torn from its rooted bed, 
 Rent by the lightning cloud, 
 
 So prone in death he lies, 
 
 Sturdy and strong and brave ; 
 
 His sway of widest scope 
 Ends in the narrow grave. 
 
 His was "the strenu's life," 
 'Mid stress of toil and care ; 
 
 With brain and nerve intense, 
 And imperious will to dare. 
 
 Quiet and wise and firm, 
 Modest and true and grand, 
 
 His was the "simple life" : 
 Born to rule and command. 
 
 "Beautiful, true, and good" 
 These were the lures he sought, 
 
 Alike in his business world 
 
 And his realm of inmost thought.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 105 
 
 No stain is on his life, 
 
 Of honor, trust, or aim ; 
 " Beautiful, true, and good" 
 
 These are his precious fame. 
 So sweetly sleeps he now, 
 
 From pain and care's release ; 
 "Beautiful, good, and true," 
 
 He rests and is at peace. 
 
 Arima, Japan, August 30, 1906. 
 
 tL be y. bornfittsl) ant) tl)c Uosc. 
 
 For the wedding of Bessie May Bowman and 
 S. Raymond Estey. 
 
 Aye, men they are rough, with fiber that 's tough, 
 
 And needs must be so, I trow ; 
 For the struggle of life, with its toil and strife, 
 
 But hardens us all as we go. 
 
 So here is your Thorn that looks all forlorn, 
 
 Till burgeons its own lovely Rose ; 
 And though sharp it seems, it has beautiful gleams 
 
 In the flowers it richly grows. 
 
 My friend, the Thorn, to good fortune was born, 
 
 For he sports the loveliest Rose ; 
 The world could again seek for such one in vain, 
 
 Whose beauty in modesty glows.
 
 1 06 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 This lover fair, and this lady so rare, 
 Wed like the heath and the heather ; 
 
 And the strenuous Thorn is no more forlorn, 
 For Rose and Thorn are together. 
 
 When Heaven disposes Thorns and Roses, 
 
 Their favor shall linger for aye ; 
 And the breeze or the gale alike they may hail, 
 
 For they '11 never wither away. 
 
 Osaka, Japan, September 20, 1906. 
 
 Co t& 
 
 Stella L. Parsons and Grace P. Hart. 
 
 Did you know that Stella must be gone on some fellow, 
 
 For the Hart she has is not her own ? 
 When her Hart goes away forever and aye, 
 
 Will she then be heartless and lone ? 
 
 For one that ne'er marries, what a sweet Hart she carries 
 
 Around wherever you meet her. 
 'Tis no Hart made of pelf! 'Tis as big as herself. 
 
 She 's in luck, you '11 say, as you greet her. 
 
 Her Hart on her sleeve ! Oh, don't you believe 
 Such a tale ; 'tis too wild to receive it. 
 
 Her Hart walks around just as strong and as sound ! 
 You see it, and sure you believe it.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 107 
 
 E'en her birthday 's a wonder ; don't call it a blunder ; 
 
 Her Hart and herself are apart. 
 Is she older or younger? O story -tale-monger ! 
 
 Whoever had just such a Hart ? 
 
 Squirrel Island, September 5, 1907. 
 
 Co 
 
 O'er the waters blue to far Algiers 
 
 I wandered lorn and lone ; 
 Its genial skies and gentle breeze 
 
 Gave a welcome all their own. 
 
 On its headlands green the palms abound ; 
 
 Snow-capped the mountains gleam ; 
 And flash the fires of wave and sun, 
 
 And the painter finds his dream. 
 
 'Twas thus that I met my little maid, 
 
 Grieved, at her father's tomb ; 
 'Neath sun and shade, the flowers she strewed 
 
 Lightened the funeral gloom. 
 
 i 
 
 Sweet were her ways, and wise her words 
 
 In childish sorrow spoken ; 
 Her big brown eyes reflected back 
 
 Her young heart's loving token.
 
 i o 8 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 She 's grown since then to girlhood fair ; 
 
 My treasured friend is she ; 
 The same brown eyes and winning ways 
 
 Come lovingly back to me. 
 
 When forth I go where suns ne'er set, 
 
 To lands afar, unknown, 
 Oh, where shall I find so sweet a friend 
 
 That I fondly call my own ? 
 
 Squirrel Island, Maine, September 7, 1907. 
 
 i&oliloqup. 
 
 From the top of the hills I look 
 
 O'er valleys and mountains of time, 
 
 And the sweep of the years is grand, 
 And the wealth of their beauty sublime. 
 
 In memory backward I go 
 
 To happy childhood's careless hours ; 
 The glitter and glory they knew 
 
 Made life seem like fairyland bowers. 
 
 I can call back my girlhood days, 
 When, pulsing with pleasure anew, 
 
 Love woke me to generous life, 
 And God awoke me to duty, too.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 109 
 
 The joys of a mother and wife, 
 
 Of my friends and kindred so dear, 
 
 Ambition and confidence met, 
 
 And a plenty to bid me good cheer, 
 
 All this and more are before me 
 
 As out from the hilltops I gaze, 
 While my children and grandchildren bless me, 
 
 And these are my happiest days. 
 
 So now 'mid these who surround me, 
 Whose love and support are my need, 
 
 My love and my blessing attend them, 
 And I give them my hearty Godspeed. 
 
 Squirrel Island, Maine, September 7, 1907. 
 
 Written for Mrs. Joseph G. Butler, Jr., of Youngstown, Ohio. 
 
 Commp anU Cttriottfif feate. 
 
 Tommy and Kate held Thanksgiving debate 
 While by the window talking ; 
 
 The well and pitiful, from the city-full, 
 Before on the sidewalk were walking. 
 
 Thanksgiving beauties, comforts, and duties 
 Made up the theme of their chat ; 
 
 Tom spoke like a sage, in the Usual gauge. 
 Kate was talking as odd as her hat.
 
 i i o My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Said Tommy, Be glad for blessings you 've had 
 
 Of health and shelter and bread, 
 For our parents and aunts and dresses and pants, 
 
 And the bounties that Nature has spread. 
 
 Said Kate, I am sure I cannot endure 
 
 To limit my gratitude so ; 
 I am thankful for ills, for doctors and pills, 
 
 And the pleasures we have to forego. 
 
 Tom spoke of preachers, of course, and teachers 
 Who train us in wisdom and truth ; 
 
 Of the country we love all others above, 
 And the privilege given to youth. 
 
 Kate mentioned the rain and sorrow and pain, 
 To which we owe patience and pluck ; 
 
 And the studies we hate are blessings elate, 
 And our blunders are only good luck. 
 
 To trial and test we owe what is best ; 
 
 And ease and luxury, too, 
 Are the witches that chill and numb and kill us. 
 
 We 're best when we 've something to do. 
 
 Newark, N. J., November 2.6, 1907.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers \ \ i 
 
 Co Celebrate tfje 
 
 Of Martha Haynes Pratt and Thomas Carter White, 
 Lewiston, Maine, June 10, 1908. 
 
 Not rock and soil, 
 
 Not spruce or pine, 
 Make up our isle's delight ; 
 
 Not ocean blue, 
 
 Nor tides and waves, 
 Reveal it to our sight. 
 
 Our daughters fair, 
 
 Our sons elate, 
 They make the gladdest thrall ; 
 
 Our Lover's Lane, 
 
 Our true love knots, 
 Are dearer than they all. 
 
 So wed ye well, 
 
 Ye Squirrels true ! 
 Love light your every day ! 
 
 Breathe airs of balm, 
 
 Shine summer sun 
 To greet you on your way. 
 
 Squirrel Island, Maine, June 10, 1908.
 
 i i 2 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Co itf P Clactttnateg 9111. 
 
 A Tribute. University of Rochester, Class of '58. 
 
 'T was a squadron proud, on the sea of life, 
 That was built and launched that day, 
 
 When in '58 we manned our ships 
 And sailed o'er the seas away. 
 
 There were twenty and two, all staunch and true 
 Some, battleships strong and brave, 
 
 Some, trim and fleet, like the cruisers swift, 
 When we started o'er the wave. 
 
 'Mid stress and storm the voyage began, 
 
 As we sailed at Duty's quest ; 
 Some, lost to our sight, passed quickly on, 
 
 We followed, at God's behest. 
 
 They have disappeared from us, one by one, 
 . As the years have glided by ; 
 And now all our fleet is worn and gray, 
 And the port for us all is nigh. 
 
 Full many a scar does each good ship show ; 
 
 None have passed unscathed away ; 
 There were foes without and foes within, 
 
 There were struggles day by day. 
 
 Full many a victory, too, we 've won 
 O'er the earth and sea and sky ;
 
 My Loves and My Lovers i i 3 
 
 For Lore and Science, Church and School, 
 Our pennants they gladly fly. 
 
 There are tears for those we shall see no more, 
 
 And we bless their memories, all ; 
 And we give you cheer, our classmates dear, 
 
 Ere we go beyond recall. 
 
 God gives us His peace as He speeds us on ! 
 
 We '11 stand by our colors still, 
 Till in harbor fair, whose lights we see, 
 
 We shall meet by God's good will. 
 
 Rochester, June, 1908. 
 
 Read at the fiftieth anniversary of graduation from the University 
 of Rochester of the Class of 1858, at which occasion there were 
 present of the class, Thomas Dransfield, Esq., Professor Jacob S. 
 Gubelmann, D.D., Rev. Henry L. Morehouse, D.D., LL.D., 
 Major-General Elwell S. Otis, U.S.A., Professor Francis B. 
 Palmer, Ph.D., Rev. A. J. Padelford, D.D., and the writer. 
 
 ttr Latop of t&e 
 
 Not fashion's foibles bound her sky, 
 Not petty wasted hours employ, 
 
 Not gossip's venom-stinging tongue 
 Engage her life or make her joy. 
 
 Not petty jealousy's demands 
 
 Narrow her soul to selfish things ; 
 
 Not proud ambition's sharp designs 
 Limit the circling of her wings.
 
 I 1 4 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Her love of home, of friends, of man, 
 Lends truest kindness to her life ; 
 
 The poor a ready helper have, 
 The home a mother and a wife. 
 
 "Ad astra " is the motto grand 
 That broadens such a life as this ; 
 
 To them her loving, gen'rous deeds 
 Point you and me the way of bliss. 
 
 An appreciation written for Mrs. Mary E. Bowman on her birthday 
 anniversary, December 7, 1908. 
 
 (E&e Eeto. Mantel 
 
 An Appreciation. 
 
 He was a man ! 
 Whatever path of life his feet have trod, 
 
 He honored it ; 
 And well he served his fellow men and God. 
 
 His scroll of life 
 Emblazoned is with many-mannered praise ; 
 
 A soldier he 
 Thru Revolution to its crowning days. 
 
 A college youth, 
 He took the honors that fair Dartmouth gives,
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 115 
 
 And followed on 
 To fit him for the life the pastor lives. 
 
 Settled at length, 
 He leads his people into "pastures new," 
 
 And builds the church 
 That follows Christ in what He bids them do. 
 
 In missions, too, 
 He sees the world has need of saving grace ; 
 
 And so is formed 
 The aid soci'ty, first to take its place. 
 
 To churches weak, 
 As Paul, he goes about to plant and build ; 
 
 To error bold 
 His pen with Gospel argument is filled. 
 
 Where'er you see, 
 This pioneer in Christian-conquest won ; 
 
 In spirit brave 
 The modest hero's glorious work is done. 
 
 It lives today ! 
 And from the far, yet unforgotten, past 
 
 It comes to life 
 As justly owned and blest of God at last.
 
 i 1 6 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 So sleeps his dust 
 At Sedgwick, Maine, where his great work was done 
 
 Among his church, 
 Who with him shall be "shining as the sun." 
 
 Mount Vernon, N.Y., February 10, 1909. 
 
 The Rev. Daniel Merrill, A.M., was my revered grandfather. As 
 a youth he served three years in the Revolution. He was grad 
 uated from Dartmouth College in 1789, and settled at Sedgwick, 
 Maine, as pastor. He was a member of the Legislature three 
 years, during which service he secured the charter of Colby 
 College, on the Board of Trustees of which he served till his 
 death. He was three years one of the Governor's Council of 
 Maine. He was the first settled pastor in Sedgwick, Maine, 
 and became a Baptist with practically his whole church in 
 1806. He was pastor there till 1816, and in Nottingham- 
 West, N. H., till 1820, when he returned to the pastorate of 
 the Sedgwick church. There he died June 3, 1833. One son, 
 the Rev. Thomas W. Merrill, became the founder of Kalamazoo 
 College. Another son, the Rev. Moses Merrill, died in the 
 service of the American Baptist Missionary Union as a mission 
 ary to the Otoes, an Indian tribe residing on the Platte river 
 near its mouth. There the first white child born in Nebraska, 
 the writer of this volume, first saw the light. 
 
 little Corel). 
 
 No matter how the days go by 
 Where plenty rules the hour, 
 
 It is not always sunshine there, 
 Nor always life-in-flower.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 1 1 7 
 
 Let genius star the gleaming sky, 
 
 Let beauty brightly glow, 
 Let culture, wit, and wisdom vie ! 
 
 It is not always so. 
 
 And when the clouds eclipse them all, 
 
 And life seems dark and drear, 
 Bring out this little torch of mine 
 
 Of love and hope and cheer. 
 
 So <<Markie,""Meemie,"<<Lala,""Dode," 
 And "Deedie,"" Mela, ""Dolly, 
 
 With all these gifts and with this torch 
 May evermore be jolly. 
 
 It may be smaller than the sun, 
 
 Forgotten in your glory ; 
 But when the greater lights are out 
 
 This torch will tell its story. 
 
 So on this birthday debonair, 
 
 When all these blessings wake, 
 Please don't forget this little torch, 
 
 Just for affection's sake. 
 
 For the birthday celebration of Mark D. Stiles, Esq. 
 Mount Vernon, N.Y., February 14, 1909.
 
 1 1 8 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Hattie E. Vanderveer. 
 
 A tiny, helpless babe 
 
 She came to earth, unknown ; 
 A mother's arms her cradle, 
 
 A father's strength her own. 
 
 Kind fortune also made 
 
 Her gift "the magic chalice," 
 And bounty's envied store 
 
 Made home seem like a palace. 
 
 Love lighted up her way 
 With tend 'rest ray serene, 
 
 For lovers vowed their troth 
 To her, their chosen queen. 
 
 Friends thronged to give her joy, 
 And gladdened every hour ; 
 
 Her kindred loved her well, 
 And owned her gentle power. 
 
 The cheer of grace divine 
 
 Was th' leaven of her ways ; 
 
 The joy she gave away 
 The pleasure of her days.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 119 
 
 'Mid evergreens and flow'rs 
 
 We laid her form to rest ; 
 Her spirit with her Saviour 
 
 Forevermore is blest. 
 
 Age is no faded bloom ! 
 
 It is no tree in blight ! 
 It is no dark'ning hour, 
 
 It is the dawn of light ! 
 
 Mount Vernon, N.Y., January 2.1, 1909. 
 
 She passed away at her home in Amsterdam, N. Y., December 21, 
 1908. 
 
 Calbar/p C&oir. 
 
 A Valentine. 
 
 O where is the home of Duty ? 
 
 Is it where true courage dwells ? 
 O where lives the soul of Beauty ? 
 
 Is it Music's voice that tells ? 
 
 Do Calv'ry Choir's "numbers" 
 
 Mean more than records know ? 
 The voice prophetic slumbers, 
 
 And the seer alone can show. 
 
 In this Leader and this Choir 
 
 Lo ! he tells "the quest is found" ;
 
 i 20 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 And these gifts that wake desire 
 In your faithful hearts abound. 
 
 When you brave the winter's chills, 
 When you conquer weary miles, 
 
 Then the heart with music fills, 
 Then the soul of Duty smiles. 
 
 So fare on, ye sons and daughters, 
 
 Music lures you to her shrine ; 
 And o'er all life's troubled waters 
 
 She shall be 
 
 Your Valentine. 
 
 Mount Vernon, N.Y., January ay, 1909. 
 
 Written for the choir leader, Professor E. M. Bowman, and a copy 
 
 was by him sent to each member of the choir on Valentine's 
 
 day, 1909. 
 
 Jar tlje 
 
 Of Grace Parker Doyle and Dr. Alonzo J. Shadman. 
 
 Ring youthful laughter gladly out ! 
 
 Swing high the blooms o'er beauty's head ! 
 For wedding-bells are chiming forth, 
 
 And gladness reigns where lovers wed. 
 
 The maiden dwells on Squirrel Isle, 
 Where summer air is full of life ;
 
 My Loves and My Lovers \ ; 
 
 This lucky swain, he wooed her there 
 And won this "Squirrel" for his wife. 
 
 Who but a doctor would have known 
 How such a heart-disease to smother ! 
 
 Who but a woman would have changed 
 So big a heart for just one other ! 
 
 So send them forth with shouts and cheers 
 Together on life' s stormy waters ; 
 
 And when we meet, in after years, 
 
 We '11 help count up their sons and daughters. 
 
 Mount Vernon, N.Y., January 22,, 1909. 
 
 At Hotel San Remo, New York City, January 28, 1909. 
 
 3n Appreciation. 
 
 Mrs. Ada F. Allen, deceased January 24, 1909. 
 
 My tears are blinding 
 
 As with blow on blow, 
 Because another of our dear ones goes. 
 
 My heart is finding 
 
 That the shadows grow : 
 The grave the bitt'rest is of earthly foes.
 
 i 2 2 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 What if we 're lonely, 
 
 Death no mercy knows ! 
 He robs us of the best we have in store, 
 
 And cares not, only 
 
 That his greed he shows, 
 And draws the shadows round us more and more. 
 
 Her head we pillow 
 
 'Neath the earthly sod ; 
 Her step is hushed, her word and work are o'er ; 
 
 Beneath the willow, 
 
 In the care of God, 
 Our loved one sleeps till time shall be no more. 
 
 Her gen'rous giving, 
 
 Her deep affection, 
 They sanctify a mem'ry truly grand ; 
 
 Her Christian living, 
 
 Our fond reflection 
 Exalts to heights that answer God's command. 
 
 The life unending 
 
 She forfeits never ; 
 Her lot the better as the ages roll. 
 
 Her soul, ascending, 
 
 Is with God forever ; 
 Her name is blazoned on the heav'nly scroll. 
 
 Mount Vernon, N.Y., February I, 1909.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 123 
 
 QLIjeir 
 
 Robert Wilson and Amelia Meston Wilson. 
 
 I see them now, those friends of old : 
 The flush of Spring is on their cheeks ; 
 
 Their plighted troth to each they hold, 
 And love to life its blessing speaks. 
 
 I see, anon, the Summer sun ; 
 
 Its noontide-heats upon them pour ; 
 Their children greet them one by one, 
 
 And gladness lingers at the door. 
 
 Death makes its choices, who knows how? 
 
 And little graves enfold their own ; 
 And griefs with tearful burdens bow 
 
 These hearts, with love the stronger grown. 
 
 But brave and gen'rous, both serene 
 Address themselves to do life's task ; 
 
 Their children, beautiful of mien, 
 Bring home the cheer its duties ask. 
 
 The Autumn days around them close, 
 
 The yellow leaf scarce shows the "sere" ; 
 
 The household head finds death's repose, 
 And death has parted those" so dear.
 
 i 24 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Awhile that mother's cheerful face, 
 Devoted, smiles at Duty's call ; 
 
 She sees her children find their place 
 With fortune beaming over all. 
 
 She counts her keepsakes o'er and o'er, 
 And them to ashes sadly burns ; 
 
 Her earthly loves claim her no more, 
 The call from heaven she discerns. 
 
 So Winter never came to chill, 
 Nor age to fix its feeble sway ; 
 
 But Summer, Spring, and Autumn fill 
 For these, my friends, their life-bouquet. 
 
 Mount Vernon, N.Y., February 8, 1909. 
 
 Co ;fftr. anB Jftrs. Albert &. 
 
 For their Wedding Anniversary. 
 
 All hail to the pair who are so gallant and fair, 
 Who live in such comfort and bliss ; 
 
 They began rather late, but such was their fate ! 
 They 've got to make up for all this. 
 
 And the kisses their due they must surely pay, too 
 And how many wooes and caresses ! 
 
 Oh, isn't it dainty ! It makes you feel fainty 
 To think of the sweets their home blesses.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers i 2 5 
 
 Around them the traces of once loving faces, 
 That make all the rooms so serene ; 
 
 E'en the furniture there has a look and an air 
 Of welcome and beautiful mien. 
 
 With memories tender, this wife and defender 
 
 Are journeying on thru the years ; 
 The storms shall blow over, and honey and clover 
 
 Be with them forever the dears. 
 
 Mount Vernon, N.Y., February 9, 1909. 
 
 Co 
 
 "My sweet lamb," on her birthday, 1903. 
 
 For faults and failings great God's mercy I await, 
 
 If Heaven's gate at last I enter in ; 
 But to you, in joy or bale, father-love can never fail. 
 
 God be thanked that in this there is no sin ! 
 
 Love's favor in your breast flows out at love's behest : 
 A father waits a suppliant at the door. 
 
 Love-words are more than gold, love-kisses wealth 
 
 untold ! 
 Age needs them as it gathers, more and more. 
 
 These quick' ning years will pass, and you and me, alas, 
 The river-side of Death will surely part ! 
 
 8a
 
 I 26 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Loving Mem'ry then should stand, with her garlands 
 
 in her hand, 
 To cheer and fortify the stricken heart. 
 
 So far, so far away ! has gone the happy day 
 When first we came together, you and I, 
 
 And I held my world of charms, when I took you in 
 
 my arms 
 And sang to you a father's lullaby. 
 
 I watched those eyes of blue, till Heav'n seemed 
 shining thru ; 
 
 No angel-voice could ever be so sweet ; 
 And your little baby ways won a doting father's praise: 
 
 You made the hours flit with nimble feet. 
 
 Your chatter could beguile, your kisses be my wile, 
 
 I almost seemed to live alone in you ; 
 And you grew my daily care, and were with me 
 everywhere, 
 
 What wonder that I 'm longing as I do ? 
 
 So I shut my eyes, and lo ! to childhood back we go, 
 And my aged heart is happy as I am ; 
 
 For with dolls and dresses gay, you are with me one 
 
 sweet day 
 Content to be your papa's "little lamb." 
 
 Athens, Greece, January 15, 1903.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 127 
 
 of Solomon, to. 16: "&!* ta mp frtenU." 
 
 The Rev. Cortland Myers, D.D. 
 
 How great the worth of thy true heart, 
 
 That bears our load of woes, 
 That beats with hope for struggling man 
 
 Who, mad, to ruin goes. 
 
 Its pangs are keen ; its tension grows 
 
 As sin reveals its sting, 
 While lips that sink in surge of death 
 
 With hellish laughter ring. 
 
 Oh, small the reck the throng doth know 
 
 That robs thy heart-of-peace, 
 Who in Christ's place must bear the cross 
 
 To bring lost souls release. 
 
 Shepherd of love ! thou pastor true ! 
 
 The stray ones thou dost seek 
 In humble cot or castled walls, 
 
 Or in the desert bleak. 
 
 In boyhood, manhood, always thus, 
 
 Unselfish like thy Lord ; 
 His word thy law, His aim thy goal, 
 
 His guerdon thy reward.
 
 128 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Sin quails before thy righteous gaze, 
 
 Beguilers shrink and flee, 
 Hell knows thou art its enemy 
 
 And plots thy fall to see. 
 
 Stand fast, brave heart ! No harm shall come, 
 
 Thy Lord is by thy side ; 
 In His own hand He holds thee safe, 
 
 No evil can betide. 
 
 God spare thee long ! God speed thee well ! 
 
 God give thee tongue of flame ! 
 God hear thy prayer : reward thy toil 
 
 With treasures in His name ! 
 
 Raleigh, N. C., February 17, 1904. 
 
 C&e ianto of 38ttrns. 
 
 By the banks of Bonny Doon 
 The murmuring currents run, 
 
 Flanked by trees and grasses fresh 
 And trembling to the sun. 
 
 And yet today new beauty lives 
 
 Amid its rippling tides : 
 For him whose soul the poet charms 
 
 Sweet poesy abides.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers i 29 
 
 She whispers to the waiting heart, 
 
 She lures the list'ning ear, 
 She thrills the soul with thoughts divine 
 
 The thoughts that poets hear. 
 
 Here lingers thy spirit, 
 
 Thou proud child of song ! 
 For the day of thy waking 
 
 The world waited long. 
 
 These woods and these waters, 
 
 They murmur thy name ; 
 These shadows and sunshine, 
 
 They picture thy fame. 
 
 Thy form may be lost 
 
 Like the leaf that floats by ; 
 Like sparkle or murmur, 
 
 Like cloud in the sky ; 
 
 But the peasant who 's here 
 
 Lives more at his ease, 
 And man 's more a man 
 
 For thy words on the breeze. 
 
 The world feels the zest 
 
 Of thy generous verse, 
 And the chains and the dungeons 
 
 Have lightened their curse.
 
 I 30 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 When Liberty wooed thee 
 
 With love like a god, 
 Thou gav'st her thyself, 
 
 And her heights thou hast trod. 
 
 Her banner of manhood 
 
 She brought from afar, 
 And thou, her knight-errant, 
 
 Went forth to her war. 
 
 While the tides of the ages 
 
 Sweep onward forever, 
 . The world will break tryst 
 With thy memory never. 
 
 Let columns and monuments 
 
 Rise to thy fame ! 
 Let the world own thy power 
 
 And blazon thy name. 
 
 Written at Ayer, and printed in the Ayershire Post, October 9, 1 902. 
 
 3Tmprompttt. 
 
 On hearing of the death of Lieut. G. W. Brown. 
 
 Another brave in a soldier's grave 
 
 Hath lain him down to sleep ; 
 In the battle-smoke, with the sabre stroke, 
 
 No more his step shall keep.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers i 3 I 
 
 The heart so leal and the arm of steel 
 
 Are palsied, aye, for strife ; 
 But the noble deed and the patriot's meed 
 
 Are left of the hero's life. 
 
 The sods may close o'er his calm repose, 
 With our country's flag around him ; 
 
 Yet Liberty's hand, with a victor's band, 
 In Death's cold arms hath bound him. 
 
 Not length of years, nor woes, nor fears, 
 
 Compose a record grand ; 
 Who grasp the right, and speed its might, 
 
 Serve God and fatherland. 
 
 Drop we a tear o'er the early bier 
 
 In token of our sorrow, 
 While the Army bleeds that the hands she needs 
 
 Must idle be tomorrow. 
 
 But the bugle call and the battle ball 
 
 Again shall rouse him never ; 
 He fought and fell, he served us well, 
 
 His furlough lasts forever. 
 
 Carlton, N.Y., May 22, 1862.
 
 I 3 2 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 3Tohn W^itt JJbilbtick, 
 
 Of Waterville, Maine. 
 
 Blest is the memory of such a saint, 
 Whose life is quiet walk with God, 
 
 Who does not weary and is never faint 
 'Neath victor's crown or sorrow's rod. 
 
 He goes to God from out the wreck of age, 
 Calm and unfearing at the call. 
 
 No words are needed at life's closing page : 
 His life is word enough for all. 
 
 So sleeps he, peaceful as a tired child 
 Who slumbers 'mid his childish play ; 
 
 So wakes his soul in Heaven undefiled 
 At home with Christ in endless day. 
 
 He 's found the company he lost erewhile, 
 Companion, noble sister,* son ;-j- 
 
 They wait content, beneath the Father's smile, 
 Till all shall join them one by one. 
 
 Athens, Greece, January 17, 1903. 
 
 *Hannah Philbrick Elden, one of the world's best women. 
 
 fCaptain Herbert S. Philbrick, U.S.A.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 133 
 
 Lneetc'ei rraj] -Boolt. 
 
 It only has two covers 
 To cover up its treasure ! 
 
 Who 'd think that leaves of paper 
 Such secrets fond could measure ? 
 
 It mostly has mementoes 
 
 Of meets and rides and dances ; 
 
 Between the lines you read, tho, 
 Of sighs and words and glances. 
 
 Its printed schemes were blank, once, 
 But now they bear addresses 
 
 That mem'ry holds in keeping 
 Of gallants' deft caresses. 
 
 One name, perhaps, is oft'nest, 
 No other eye would note it ; 
 
 One pleasure gleams the plainest, 
 Tho none might dare to quote it. 
 
 One picture, manly, winning, 
 So good, so kind, so human, 
 
 She shelters in its keeping, 
 
 And who can blame a woman ? 
 
 Squirrel Island, 1909.
 
 3 4 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 jfor tjje 
 
 Of Emma King Foss and Arthur Emil Kusterer. 
 
 Tomorrow you are wed. 
 
 Oh, that is more than dreaming ! 
 Imagination, Fancy, Art, 
 Ah, what can link us heart to heart ? 
 
 'Tis being more than seeming. 
 
 Tomorrow you are wed. 
 
 One current bears you ever : 
 Where two in self and interest dwelt, 
 One pulse, one life, one hope are felt, 
 
 And God shall part them never. 
 
 Tomorrow you are wed. 
 
 Earth surely knows no brighter hour 
 Hope flies another pennant true ; 
 Home has another light for you ; 
 
 Love seeks no lovelier bower. 
 
 Tomorrow you are wed. 
 
 Bend rainbows gently o'er you ; 
 Health, honor, joy, affection vie 
 To bless you as the hours fly 
 
 Like heaven-gleams before you. 
 
 Squirrel Island, Maine, October 2, 1908.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 135 
 
 KetoerenU professor Latorence 
 
 A Tribute. 
 
 O thou heart of the midnight sun, 
 Shining out benignant and clear, 
 
 The work of thy life has been done 
 In radiance of love and good cheer. 
 
 The parish has all to commend, 
 As pastor, no lamb was forgot ; 
 
 The student has found thee his friend, 
 However unfortuned his lot. 
 
 Society, affluence, ease, 
 
 These had for thy welcome no thrall ; 
 The heart of thy Master to please 
 
 Finds thee ready to list to His call. 
 
 Thus sunshine pours out on thy way, 
 So simple, so faithful, so true ; 
 
 The midnight of need is thy day, 
 The meed of the helper thy due. 
 
 New York City, April 9, 1909.
 
 136 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 Dearie. 
 
 Ah, when shall I see my dearie ! 
 
 My heart is growing aweary, 
 As sadly and slow the dull moments go ; 
 Can you tell me why they linger so 
 
 And keep me away from my dearie ? 
 
 This waiting, waiting is weary ; 
 
 Come to me, come to me, dearie ! 
 The hours away time cannot repay, 
 And the shadows are clouding my day 
 
 While I am away from my dearie. 
 
 Is it not, is it not dreary 
 
 To be away from your dearie ? 
 
 She smiles, it is true, but not upon you ; 
 
 What shall an envious lover do 
 So far away from his dearie ? 
 
 Yes, sad are the days and dreary 
 That keep me away from my dearie. 
 When shall be prest the sweet lips, kiss carest, 
 As I clasp thee, my own, to my breast, 
 No more to be parted, my dearie ? 
 
 Rochester, N.Y., September 6, 1 86 1.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 137 
 
 |)2>mn. 
 
 Thy house we enter, Lord, today, 
 
 Thy presence we would humbly seek ; 
 
 Guide our devotions, Lord, we pray, 
 Thy favor on our thoughts bespeak. 
 
 How oft dost Thou with voice sublime 
 Reveal to us Thy holy will ; 
 
 But we defer God's harvest time 
 Our own weak councils to fulfill. 
 
 This hour be Thou, O guest divine ! 
 
 A present power in every heart ; 
 To Thee our wills may we resign, 
 
 In Thine own will to have a part. 
 
 So shall whatever we may do, 
 Alike in movement or delay, 
 
 Be to our Master's wishes true 
 As we with cheerfulness obey. 
 
 Baldwinsville, N.Y., December, 1866. 
 
 Written on making a plea for a new church edifice.
 
 i 3 8 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 ut 
 
 Our loved ones love us. But how oft 
 The busy cares and duties that annoy 
 
 Conceal their better natures, and, alas ! 
 Affections too concealed defraud our joy . 
 
 Our loved ones love us. But they see 
 What limping heroes we can be, at best ; 
 
 Our faults and foibles hide our nobler selves, 
 Till life is gone and love is unexprest. 
 
 But Friendship sees perspective, too ; 
 
 Ourselves, exalted, she in love arrays, 
 As summer haze the beauty magnifies, 
 
 And summer haloes soften summer days. 
 
 God bless our friends ! They see in us 
 
 Their own sweet thoughts reflected and enshrined 
 Ideals of worth and taste, honor and truth, 
 
 Their mirror sure for them shall quickly find. 
 
 Squirrel Island, Maine, 1895.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers i 3 9 
 
 There 's a noble youth, my dears, 
 And he lives in gay Algiers, 
 And he puts the girls in tears, 
 Don't you know ! 
 
 'Twixt the English maid's advances, 
 And the Spanish girl that dances, 
 Why the former has no chances, 
 Don't you know ! 
 
 He 's a broad and manly height, 
 And his eyes are black as night, 
 And they flash with wild delight, 
 Don't you know ! 
 
 And tho he 's young in years, 
 He 's a life that warms and cheers, 
 And a soul that brooks no fears, 
 Don't you know ! 
 
 He 's a will that 's strong, forsooth ! 
 He 's a patriotic youth, 
 And the very soul of truth, < 
 Don't you know !
 
 140 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 While many waste their days 
 He to business bends his ways, 
 And deserves the highest praise, 
 Don't you know ! 
 
 When the crowd have met their fate, 
 He '11 be stalwart and elate, 
 And, mayhap, among the great, 
 Don't you know ! 
 
 Underneath his coal-black thatch, 
 He 's a very pretty catch 
 For the maiden and the match, 
 Don't you know. 
 
 Written for John Torrstes, Secretary of Consul Kidder, April 13, 
 1901. 
 
 n JHcUitatinff a Bisit to Palestine. 
 
 To be where Jesus died for me, 
 
 My Saviour, King, and Guide, 
 Where all His heart's rich treasure poured 
 
 To bring me to His side ! 
 What could my heart in answer do, 
 
 'Mid such a scene as this, 
 But taste, 'mid thankfulness and tears, 
 
 The Cup of pard'ning bliss? 
 
 Athens, April 15, 1903.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 141 
 
 Che jFttfeuin ^flartt. 
 
 (The Gospel Ship in the Inland Sea of Japan. ) 
 Captain Luke W. Bickel. 
 
 Ships have come and have gone 
 
 ' Mid these beautiful isles ; 
 Have been mirrored in seas 
 
 That are dimpled in smiles. 
 
 No ship has brought cargo 
 
 Half so precious as you, 
 O Fukuin Maru 
 
 Of the A. B. M. U. 
 
 Life comes with thy presence, 
 And light gleams from thy sails ; 
 
 May the Lord of the isles 
 Give thee favoring gales. 
 
 And glad be the nation 
 
 That has welcomed thy stay, 
 Whose night of delusion 
 
 Will give place to the day. 
 
 God give thee, O Captain, 
 
 The full hire of souls, 
 His favor be with thee, 
 
 Whose Spirit controls. 
 
 Tokyo, Japan, October, 1906. 
 
 9
 
 I 42 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 to ttt 
 
 How wonderful Thy love, 
 
 O Father of us all ! 
 That e'en Thy weakest creature 
 
 Is held within its thrall. 
 
 It no distinction makes 
 
 Of favors or of bars, 
 And like the ether reaches 
 
 To the very farthest stars. 
 
 It is not blind nor reckless, 
 It knows no great nor small, 
 
 But shrines His gracious image 
 In the inmost soul of all. 
 
 -Whose hand like His so tender ! 
 
 Whose love like His so true ! 
 Whose patience so forgiving 
 
 As God's has been to you ! 
 
 One thing alone He asks you, 
 'T is that His heart doth crave, 
 
 That heart for heart you give Him 
 Who lives your soul to save.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 143 
 
 In sin's hard chains He finds you, 
 
 In death's unbroken gloom ; 
 His loving hand unbinds you, 
 
 He vanquishes the tomb. 
 
 Shall sin still hold dominion ? 
 
 Shall you yet wayward be ? 
 O hear His voice of Mercy, 
 
 Come, sinner ! come to me. 
 
 Squirrel Island, Maine, July, 1908.
 
 144 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 My loves and lovers where are they ? 
 
 Some, as I look these pages o'er, 
 Tho old, I see them bright and gay, 
 
 And hear their voices as of yore. 
 
 The years have fled, yet they 're the same ; 
 
 This air and sunshine know not change ; 
 I shut my eyes and call your name, 
 
 'T is silence ! Only that is strange. 
 
 To you, my loves, thru all the years 
 I give my lover's troth to you ! 
 
 Who left me, here for you are tears ; 
 Who 're living yet, I love you true. 
 
 New York City, April 10, 1909.
 
 MERRILL GENEALOGY.
 
 MERRILL GENEALOGY, RECORD. 
 
 Largely due to the diligent, prolonged, persevering labor and 
 unstinted expenditure of means by General Lewis Merrill, of Phila 
 delphia, Pa. 
 
 i The Immigrant, 2 Nathaniel Merrill, settled in 
 
 Newbury, Mass., 1635. . 
 2 6 Abel, b. 6 February, 1644; m. Priscilla Chase, 
 
 10 February, 1671. 
 3 ^bel, b. 28 December, 1671; m. Abigail 
 
 Stevens, 19 June, 1694. 
 
 4 4Thomas, b. 29 July, 1702 ; m. Abigail Bartlett, 
 19 June, 1729. 
 
 5 6 Thomas, b. 27 March, 1739 ; m. Sarah Friend, 
 22 January, 1762. 
 
 6 2 Daniel, b. 18 March, 1765; m. first, Joanna 
 
 Colby, 14 August, 1792; second, Susanna Gale, 
 
 14 October, 1794. 
 7 sMoses, b. 15 December, 1803; m. Eliza Wil- 
 
 cox, i June, 1830. 
 8 I Moses Daniel, b. 25 July, 1831; m. Emily 
 
 Jane Hanna, 3 May, 1864.
 
 148 My Loves and My Lovers 
 
 8 2 Samuel Pearce, b. 13 July, 1835; m. Amanda 
 
 H. Wentworth, 23 April, 1863. 
 9 'Mary Emily, b. 20 February, 1871. 
 2 Moses Daniel, Jr., b. 7 April, 1873. 
 sTirzah Halicia, b. 2 March, 1875. 
 
 Children of Moses Daniel. 
 9 'Edward Wentworth, b. 30 June, 1865 ; d. 21 
 
 May, 1886. 
 
 2 Mary, b. 15 January, 1876. 
 
 sjohn, b. 6 December, 1880. 
 
 Children of Samuel Pearce. 
 
 WILCOX GENEALOGY, RECORD. 
 
 BY S. P. MERRILL. 
 
 i The Immigrant, William Wilcockson, from St. 
 Albans, Hertfordshire, England, by ship Planter, 26 
 May, 1636 ; settled at Windsor and then at Strat 
 ford, Conn. 
 
 2 ^Samuel, b. ; m. Hannah , 
 
 settled at Simsbury, Conn. 
 
 3 'Samuel, b. 15 April, 1666; m. Mindwell 
 Griffin. 
 
 4 8 Ephraim, b. 4 February, 1707; m. Hannah 
 Hill, of Simsbury.
 
 My Loves and My Lovers 1 49 
 
 5 2 Silvanus, b. 14 November, 1733 ; m - Chastina 
 
 Curtis, of Simsbury. 
 6 2 Silvanus, b. 26 May, 1762; m. first, Sarah 
 
 Johnson, 28 April, 1785 ; second, Sally Hamilton, 
 
 19 October, 1831. 
 
 7 8 Eliza, b. 3 June, 1800 ; m. Rev. Moses Merrill, 
 I June, 1830. 
 
 8 'Moses Daniel. 
 2 Samuel Pearce. 
 
 See above, in Merrill Genealogy. 
 
 EXPLANATORY : 
 
 Figures before names signify the number of the child in the 
 family; b. born; d. died; m. married; figures before lines 
 generation including immigrant. 
 
 S. P. MERRILL. 
 Rochester, February n, 1888.
 
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