G.LiN-N/tus BAM Univ THE Council of the Manchester Literary Club 'is makirfg an appeal to the members on behalf of the well-known author Mrs. "LJjuarseus Banks, who is sixty-five years of age, and, we regret to say, in indifferent circumstances. A subscription list has been opened, which is headed by Mr. John Bright with a donation of 51. It is proposed to purchase an annuity for Mrs. Banks. \ STATES FOR THE HUMAN LADDER ET CETERA. BY P Gf^LINNJlUS BANKS. LONDON: CHARLES GILPIN, 5, BISHOPSGATE WITHOUT. EDINBURGH : ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK. DUBLIN : J. B. GILPIN. 1850. LOHDON : PRINTED FOE CHABLES GILP1N, BISHOPSGATE WITHOUT. TO THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF CARLISLE. MT LOED, THE world is too well acquainted with your genius and goodness of heart to need any mention of them here ; and I am not vain enough to suppose that it can have any great curiosity to know more of the author of these " Staves," than may be gathered from a perusal of them. Therefore, I have only to express my own deep sense of personal obli- gation to your Lordship, in whom I have so noble a support for my " Ladder" of progress. Trusting your Lordship may never have a less sincere and ardent admirer than myself, I have the honour to remain, 3Ir LOED, Your Lordship's obliged and obedient Servant, THE AUTHOE. CONTENTS. Jtos for tip lurnnn Into. PAGE. Angry words leave bitter memories 61 Art and Industry 67 Be firm 113 Be merry and wise. (Set to music by J. A. Baker.) 124 Cherish only kindly feelings 114 Common means 75 Day is breaking 3 Fact and Fiction 96 Get gold 21 Glory 10 Good we might do 121 Hang up the sword 39 Heads may differ hearts agree 9 Honest and happy. (Set to music by R. F. Lowell. Pub- lished by T. E. Purday.) 43 Honest John 19 It is a long lane that has no turning 48 Let them die 93 Let us all help one another 26 Live and let live 13 Make no rash promise 110 Mind and look before you leap 69 Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Green 50 Night in the Capital 101 Nil desperandum 95 VI CONTENTS. PAGE. No good effort's wholly lost 45 No morning sun shines all the day 68 No room 99 One good turn deserves another 41 Onward. (Set to music by R. F. Lowell. Published by Joseph Williams.) 7 Pence and Pounds 74 Prayer of Kossuth 128 Right 59 Seize time as it flieth 35 Self-dependence 12(5 The best of friends must part . 98 The golden calf 32 The golden rule 71 The great high-road 36 The great mistake 15 The lash 55 The mission of the bard 22 The mote and the beam , 84 The ocean penny postage 73 The spectacle 86 The unknown God 115 The voice of Nature 131 The workman and his work 27 Think the best 33 Thou art rich, but art thou noble ? . . 24 To-morrow 54 Trifles 91 True to the end. (Set to music by C. Milsom) 65 Try 123 Up and be doing 62 Waterloo Ill Were it not as well ? 79 When I had a shilling to lend 108 Worldly teachings 81 CONTEXTS. Vll /imnj's An Englishman's Hope. (Set to music by R. F. Lowell. Published by T. E. Purday.) ....................... 175 Ask from me no idle vow .............................. 171 Beautiful flowers. (Set to music by R. F. Lowell.) ........ 151 Dearer than ever ..................................... 143 Fair river ........................................... 137 Glorious planets .................................... . 146 Her bashful tresses shunned the wind .................... 164 I saw a brighter eye last night. (Set to music by C. Wheeler. Published by Cramer, Beale, & Co.) ................ 178 Hurrah for twenty-one ................................ 139 Lizzy Lee ......................................... 184 Love and Kindness .................................. 179 Love thy sire, little one .............................. 160 My beautiful, my own ................................ 168 My heart is bankrupt ................................ 180 One smile of thine. (Set to music by R. F. Lowell. Pub- lished by R. Cocks and Co.) ....................... 152 Old Arthur loved his little Jane ........................ 162 Summer gems ...................................... 159 Take back thy gift. (Set to music by Guylott. Published by R. Cocks and Co.) ............................ 156 The bold sea wave .................................... 142 The coral caves ...................................... 144 The domestic wife. (Set to music by E. L. Hime. Pub- lished by R. Cocks and Co.) ....................... 166 The empress of the sea. (Set to music by R. F. Lowell. Published by Hart) .............................. 173 The haven of friendship ........... ................... 141 The knight's adventure ................................ 147 The last hope of Norah ............................... 157 The minstrel old and grey ............................. 154 The moonlight echo. (Set to music by Herr Seifart) ...... 177 Vlll CONTENTS. PAGE. The old familiar faces 181 The old portrait gallery 170 The old, the sun-burnt mariner. (Set to music by Lowell).. 174 The sun and the flowers 172 Time's faith 149 We met as old friends. (Set to music by R. F. Lowell. Published by D'Almaine and Co.) 161 When they told me he had flattered. (Set to music by J. A. Baker.) 176 ItattfH from Sarnii's SABBATH LYRICS. (Set to music by Edwin Flood. Published by R. Cocks and Co.) Be not afraid, 'tis I 194 Daughters of the Holy City 193 Joseph 191 The Living Fountain 197 The offering '. 189 Thou, God, seest me 195 MOUNTAIN LAYS FOR THE SABBATH. (Set to music by S. Nelson. Published by R. Cocks and Co.) Ararat 198 Calvary 204 Horeb 202 Sinai 200 Tabor 203 Zion , 201 Belshazzar's Feast 205 Nathan to David, " Thou art the man" 207 >taw0 far tjje Iwmatr DAT IS BREAKING. DAT is breaking On the mountain-tops of Time, As they stand, head-bared and hoary, Watching, from their heights sublime, The new Morning upward climb In its creative glory. Day is breaking ! Like a firmament of light Flushing far the heaving ocean ; And the darkness of the Night Melts before its gathering might, Like a spectral thing in motion. StATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER- Day is breaking ! As when, in some noontide dream, The soul goes forth exploring, And the sun-lighted sky doth seem The symbol of a purer beam, Whose light on earth is pouring. Day is breaking ! Like a host of angels sent With some new revelation And the mourning nations bent, Tiptoe wait the grand event The mind's emancipation. Day is breaking, And like the melodies Of vesper-hymning flowers, When, closing up their twinkling eyes, They breathe sweet incense to the skies Carol the new-born hours. Day is breaking ! In the valleys, on the hills, The earth is an infant swathed in brightness And the rivers and the rills With a sparkling joy it fills, As to lyric measures turns their rippling lightness. DAF. IS BEEAKIKG. Day is breaking ! And the matin of each bird A ray of morn, distilled in music ringing Through the welkin far is heard Trilling, like the parting word Of a lover, to his earthly idol clinging. Day is breaking ! The flood-gates of the mind are opened wide, And Light, in torrents rushing, O'erpowers the gaze of pomp and pride, Sweeps wrong and ignorance aside, With its impetuous gushing. Day is breaking ! And, from the grave of other years, In new birth Man is waking, Who, o'er the dust of death, uprears His face, bedecked with smiles, not tears, For mankind's Day is breaking. Day is breaking ! And with a giant-conqu'ring shout, Released from gloom and danger, The spirit of true Man leaps out, Beyond the paths of fear and doubt, To Good no more a stranger. 6 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEB. Day is breaking ! In the dark unhealthy mine ; Around the factory wheel and labourer's dwelling, Bright hopes and great achievements shine, Inspiring energy divine, With which his breast, for purpose pure, is swelling. Day is breaking ! And as the story of its advent flies, In the mart, on 'change, Sagacious men, with indications wise, Tarry to fathom in each other's eyes The import deep and strange. Day is breaking ! A crimson rust feeds on the sword, Devoured by blood of its own shedding ; And, where the cannon thund'ring roared, To nobler peace and self restored, Man, by the Light of G-OD, is treading. Day is breaking, As a vast earthquake, on the world, Fraught with a mighty shaking : Grim prejudice is downward hurled, And truth's bright banner, wide unfurled, Proclaims the "Day is breaking." STAVES fOB THE HUMAN LADDER. ONWARD ! ONWARD ! Onward ! is the watchword For the soul in trial's hour, When the chains of darkness bind us, When the storms of sorrow lour. Follow, follow up the future, 'Tis a mighty enterprise ; Knowledge is the goal and glory, Xoblest they who will be wise. Onward ! Onward ! ye w r ho linger, Faint and weary, by the way, From the spirit's slumber waken, Ere the raven lock turns grey. Will enfeebled powers avail you, Strife and conflict to endure ? Onward ! Onward ! take fresh courage, And the victor's palm is sure. STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEE. Onward ! Onward ! Time is swifter Than the swiftest in life's race ; He is near you, with you, past you, Who hath found his resting place ? Onward ! Onward ! ever Onward ! Earth-born pilgrim, child of clay, To Affection, Virtue, Honour, Knowledge prompts and guides the way. STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. HEADS MAY DIITEE HEAETS AGEEE. THOUGH in matters of faith we can't always agree, And kneel at one altar together, Yet in friendship and love we united may be, Or our faith else is not worth a feather Like the bee whose philosophy, truthful indeed, Invites it each blossom to rifle, Let us gather what's noble and good from each creed, Nor with conscience and 'honesty trifle. How much wiser and better the world might become, Would partisans cease their contention, If the censor would pause and the bigot be dumb, Nor strengthen the weeds of dissension But love one another, as brothers and men In works of pure charity labour Be true to the faith of their sires and again Eespect the same right in their neighbour. B 2 10 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. GLOKY! GLORY ! what is glory ? Ask the crippled man and old, Who, for a gaudy epaulette, A score of years has sold : Who, for his country's good and peace, Has yielded up his own ; That men might talk of victories, Whose glory he has known. Glory ! what is glory ? Ask the widow, lean and pale, Who doles out sorrow to a world That will not heed her tale : Who only knows of blessings lost, And not of blessings won How much, for such a creature, Has not this glory done ! GLOET ! 11 Glory ! what is glory ? Ask the wretched orphan child, Who bears its trophy in his breast A spirit crushed defiled What virtues pure had flourished there, But for that glorious thing Which unmakes subjects by the score, To make a single king. Glory ! what is glory ? Let that beggared nation say, Which, bankrupt both in purse and peace, Has nothing left to pay : Whose sinews, blood, and industry Whose wrongs time cannot heal Were all required for glory, To complete its monster meal. Glory ! what is glory ? Bead the history of man, Commencing with that early time When history first began ; How crime and murder, theft and hate, Have travelled in its van, To poison at the human core The better part of man. 12 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. Glory ! what is glory ? The robe of death and lust The chain that binds a nation's strength, Or lays it in the dust The vulture, famine, torch, and plague, To which nought comes amiss The mark of Cain, time-gilded o'er This this is glory ! this ! STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEB. 13 LIVE AND LET LIVE, BEOTHEE ! THE light was made for all, For all the air was given ; Our common wants 'tis call Down every gift from heaven From this, 'tis clear, a claim We have upon each other, Then let it be our aim To live and let live, brother ! The hearts that have no creed, But what self will be preaching, Can never feel nor read The truths of Nature's teaching ; They want the faith of men Who strive for one another ; Our practice be it, then, To live and let live, brother ! 14 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. What value would life be "Were none with us to share it, The smile of man to see, Then wealth we'd gladly spare it From this world we should turn To find, methinks, some other, Or cleaving to life, learn To live and let live, brother ! STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEE. 15 THE GKEAT MISTAKE. WELL, really ! I'm astonished quite, And scarce know what to say, To find that Sunday, after all, Is still a working day : That, spite of legislative acts, And bigotry's brain-fever, The world is going round to-day As rapidly as ever. I thought except in organ-pipes The wind was not to blow, And flowers were to be taken up, If they presumed to grow ; That every stomach, ship, and thing, In any kind of motion, Must stop for hours just twenty-four, To offer its devotion. 16 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. I thought, too, nothing must be read, Save psalms in holy walls, Tet there are placards postmg up, Announcing " Sales" and " Balls ;" That men could neither send their thoughts, Nor be allowed to carry 'em ; Nor Christian pastors take their fees From folks or even marry 'em. I thought if e'en the sun came out It would be deemed a crime, And that some plan had been devised To bind the wings of Time ; That every dial, watch, and clock, With six days' labour irking, "Would have to wind up its affairs And stop its hands from working. All mail deliveries were to stop, Tet there is Mrs. Binns Ungodly woman ! just confined "With would you think it ? twins ; And Vicar Dobbs, to whom 'twas thought A day's respite was given, This very morning made his will And went, I hope, to heaven. THE GREAT MISTAKE. 17 There goes the Doctor in his gig And there is Chemist Brown As hard at work as if he meant To knock his counter down ; Yea, even while the parish church "With pious souls is filling, A fellow bawling " mackarel !" Sells two soles for a shilling. I thought all labour was to cease, Yet poor old Mr. Crupp, The Bishop's carriage can't knock down, But some one picks him up ; And just because the church takes fire, The zealous congregation Rush out for engines, pipes, and pails, To stop the conflagration. I thought that Jane, my lady's cook, And John, the butler, too, Would be compelled to go to church, As other Christians do ; And that, however odd it seem, Each ostler, footman, baker, Relieved from toil, would leisure have To worship God, his Maker. 18 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. And Sunday trains still running, well ! They'll sure fly off" the rails, Conveying pleasure-seekers, when They dare not take the mails. There really must be some mistake 'Tis Saturday or Monday, For we are holy people now That is upon a Sunday. We dare not dream of labouring Upon the seventh day Of riding out, or doing aught That savours of display. No children, servants, cattle now Are Sabbath-breaking sinners, And what is more, we've given up Our nice hot Sunday dinners. Alas ! methinks I've been deceived, And so have half the town ; It merely is the " Sunday Post" The wise heads have put down As if, by making it a sin To send an urgent letter, They did the smallest good on earth, Or made one bad heart better ! STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEB. 19 HONEST JOHN. A simple man was honest John, And homely, too, to look upon ; Nor pride of station, nor of birth Contributed to form his worth ; His force of character he drew From good he did, or sought to do : He was not learned was not wise, He had no deep and searching eyes To penetrate abstrusest things, And fathom Nature's laws and springs ; But he possessed that better sight, A clear discernment of the right, And all the joy he wished, he had, In making others good and glad. A simple man was honest John, And homely, too, to look upon ; So homely, that the vulgar eye A thousand times had passed him by. 20 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEE. Unable for the plain black coat That buttoned round his honest throat To mark the sense and worth enshrined Within the casket of the mind. Tet, soothing thoughts and sympathies, And precepts rare, and kind replies, And cheering words, he had for all, However great, however small Content, in doing what he could For public or for private good. A simple man was honest John, And homely, too, to look upon ; He never scorned the poorest friend, Nor censured faults he could not mend ; He never cared for pomp and show, Nor answered "Yes," when Truth said " No ;" However crossed, ill used, or vexed, Of bad he always made the best ; While on his heart, as it would seem, Were written with a warm sunbeam, These words, in sweet simplicity " There is no grace like Charity :" Thus, acting out the golden plan, He strove to be he was A MAN ! STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. 21 GET GOLD. GET gold, for you can't do without it, "Pis the strong bridge that carries man over, And there is not a wise pate who'll doubt it, From John O' Groat's straightway to Dover. It is comfort, and honour, and riches, For the rest, it is easily told, As this is the world-law it teaches, There can be little love without gold. Get gold ! but be gen'rous while living, And do all the good that you can Help the poor, cheer the faint, be forgiving, And show you've the heart of a man. For works of affection and duty, Despite the opinions men hold, Have a value, a splendour, and beauty Far greater than silver and gold. 22 STAVES FOR THE HUMAN LADDER. THE MISSION OF THE BAED. FOE what does the true-born poet nurse In his breast the quenchless flame, That gives to the world immortal sparks, And glorious makes his name ? ' For what does he drain the well of truth, Till his thirsty soul runs o'er, And feels as a spirit heavenward borne That can seek the earth no more ? Is it to canker earth's love with ore That is dug not from the mind, And to make himself a living cheat In the eyes of all mankind ? Or is it to give to maiden's cheek - A tint from his magic brush, That shall sully the brightness of her soul "With an unholy blush ? THE MISSION OF THE BARD. 23 Is it to sing of chivalrous days, When the gallant knight was thrown, And yielded his life to win a heart He never could call his own ? To tell how the vet'ran foeman bleeds, When the earth grows red with shame At the sight of death the curses wreathed With the phantom wreath of Fame ? No ! not for these is the poet true, A poor pilgrim bard below ; But that the glorious seeds of Hope In each breast his hand may sow That those who sorrow, and those who weep, And carry the world's dark chain, May become what our first parents were, Ere the earth had known a stain. 24 STATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEB. THOU AET EICH, BUT AET THOU NOBLE ? THOU art rich, but art thou noble ? Hast thou in thy soul enshrined Aims majestic, thoughts immortal, Born of the Eternal mind ? Canst thou see in human nature, Whether well or meanly clad, Gterms of goodness, seeds of glory, That may make thy spirit glad ? Thou art rich, but art thou gen'rous, Pure and Saviour-like in tone, Tender to the faults of others, Not unmindful of thine own ? Does no secret wrong or evil, Fostered by the world's despite, Check thy being's upward progress, Intercept it in its flight ? THOU A.ET RICH, BUT AST THOU NOBLE ? 25 Thou art rich, but golden treasures Little will thy soul avail, If neglected life's great duties, If the true and noble fail Coffers will but clog thy footsteps, Press thy spirit to the sod, If it lacks the grace and grandeur Of a lowly child of God. 26 STATES TOE THE HUMAN LADDER. LET US ALL HELP ONE ANOTHEK. LET us all help one another, And be true to Nature's creed ; He who does not love a brother, Is a worthless one indeed. 'Tis a law of heaven's teaching, Stamped on human hearts at birth, And worth all the empty preaching Of the polished lips on earth. Let us all help one another In misfortune's wintry day, And be kinder still as ever Earth's best gifts are snatched away. When bright fortune gilds the morrow, Hollow hearts will fawn and cling, But when comes the night of sorrow Only true hearts comfort bring. STATES FOB, THE HUMAN LADDER. 27 THE WORKMAN AND HIS WOKK. THEEE were twenty-six Black slender objects lay Spread out before a toiling man, Each like a cast-away Unlike, and yet of kin they were ; Apart, yet side by side ; Some round, some square, hump-backed and crossed- Others with legs bestride. But oh ! their power was wondrous great How great scarce any knew For, though a child might use it well, No king could it subdue. There were twenty-six, And he who turned them o'er, But laboured at a daily work Oft laboured at before 28 STAVES FOR THE HUMAN LADDEE. A golden recompence lie sought, For fortune had not shed Her empty treasures round his heart, Her honours round his head So toiled he on, the livelong day, With weary touch and look ; Until his task was done and lo ! Behold it made a Boole. A Book a mighty Book In which were glorious things ; Bright words to warm the beggar's soul, And pierce the hearts of kings ; Truths, which like polished crystals shone, And powerful made the weak That crimsoned deep with self-respect The wretched outcast's cheek No grandeur, beauty, might, or good Had traversed earth around, But in that white yet crowded page Its antetype was found. It taught the pampered heir Humility, not state ; And Dives, too, to share his meal With th' beggar at his gate ; THE WOBKMAN AND HIS WQBK. 29 The tyrant to relax the chain That brutalised the slave And furnished bright examples for The virtuous and brave. It preached the death of bloody wars It spoke, as can the Pen ; And GOD, whose stamp it bore, looked down, And closed it with AMEN. The man of toil went home, And sat beside his fire, While little laughing children came And kissed their welcome sire No pomp, no splendour, hoarded up There, flashed upon his gaze ; No cringing vassals, bowing down, Extolled with sinful praise. He was a poor, a working man, Obscure, and meanly clad, With many cares to vex his soul, Nor much to make it glad. The Book that Book went forth, As with a potent spell, Polities tottered at its voice, And thrones before it fell 30 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEB. The ocean bore its tidings on, To farthest clime and shore ; And scattered holy gifts around, Where none had been before. Where'er it went, the human mind A glorious thing became The Indian and the African Put on a God-like name. Men sceptics soon stepped forth, And, with unholy mirth, Essayed to make that mighty Book A scoff throughout the earth In library and cloistered cell, With skill and zeal uprose, Philosopher and saintly monk, Its charmed leaves to close The sword and rack in turn were tried, And every desp'rate plan, But nothing could undo the work Of that poor toiling man. The workman died unsung, unknown ; But soon, by heaven's light, His spirit gazed in glory down Upon our mortal night THE WOBKMAN AND HIS WORK. 31 A mighty change 'the Book had wrought ; "War, lust, and wrong, and pride Had perished, and a better fruit Was rip'ning far and wide "Whose small seeds, scattered by his hand Upon the human sod, Should stock the upper Paradise With flowers approved by GOD ! 32 STAVES FOR THE HTJMAN LADDEB. THE GOLDEN CALF. THE world may scorn, and the world may laugh At him who worships the Golden Calf ; But he has a cure for the wildest jest, Who has taken good care to " feather his nest ;" Who has thought to himself " a golden egg Is better than having to borrow or beg ;" For, say what you will, in life's sunniest day, There is nothing like gold for the world's highway. The world may jeer, and the world may laugh At him who worships the Golden Calf ; But is not a guinea, a note in store, Better than having the wolf at the door ? 'Tis gold that brings honour, respect, and friends, But want it, and quickly their friendship ends ; For, say what you will, in life's stormiest day, There is nothing like gold for the world's highway. STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEB. 33 THINK THE BEST. WHE>* we look on the world and behold its temptations, When we look on the worst and the wisest of men, Let charity colour the heart's revelations, And justice direct both the tongue and the pen. We cannot know all that is locked up in others, And the motives of men are oft misunderstood ; Let us greet them, then, as we'd be greeted, like brothers, And pass o'er the evil for sake of the good. If we shudder at guilt, and would fain have men better, More spotless in soul and more noble in mind, Let us look at the spirit and not at the letter Of deeds, when to utter reproof we're inclined ; Lest this should result, as the end of our labour, (In the last hour of life on our peace to intrude,) That in making the most of the faults of our neighbour, We strengthen the bad at the cost of the good. c2 34 STAVES FOR THE HUMAN LADDER. The worst in creation has some cherished feeling That links him to all that is true and divine, And the best will, at times, have a dark spirit kneeling Amidst angel thoughts at the heart's solemn shrine. Yet, believe me, if still there's a song that love singeth, By the pure and the gentle in heart understood, 'Tis of man, when from wrong he his fellow man bringeth, By words of forbearance, of kindness, and good. STATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. 35 SEIZE TIME AS IT FLIETH. SEIZE Time as it flieth, and use it, Nor your arms on your breast idly fold, And then, though you live to be ninety, Yet in spirit you'll never grow old. 'Tis not years, man, that constitute wisdom, Nor the morning of life alone Youth, There be those who are children at sixty, And boys who are old in the Truth. Time is money, did man but employ it, And a harvest of gold oft it yields, While he who sits down, like a sluggard, Finds but thistles and tares in his fields. By the force of the mind, and its culture, Is the age of man tested and tried So a Newton was older at fifty Than Methuselah was when he died ! 36 STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. THE GEEAT HIGH-KOAD. THEBE'S a path stretched out before us, Shall we tread its chequered way ? "Will the mists that o'er it hover, As we progress, melt away ? Why stand doubting or inquiring ? Let us forward in our might, And ascend that path of Duty Mount the great high-road of Eight. Some may scoff at our endeavour, And look down with scornful face, As, with every nerve in motion, We press past them in the race. Shall their puny efforts shake us, When a moment but in sight, And the next are left behind us In the great high-road of Eight ? THE GBEAT HIGH-EOAD. 37 What though cares and conflicts wait us, E'en at every step we take ; If the right path we are taking, Let's endure them for its sake. There remains this consolation, Stronger than the world's despite, That the sky will one day brighten, If we keep the path of Bight. Prejudice, deceit, and anger, To ingratitude allied, May, with foul insinuations, Try to tempt our steps aside Shall we heed their machinations, And sit down in hopeless plight, When a thousand voices urge us Still to keep the path of Eight ? Though our lot in life be humble Though nor wealth nor grandeur wait To attend our every footstep, And guard off the stings of fate. Honour, virtue, and kind feeling Shed a more enduring light Than can either wealth or station, If we keep the path of Eight. 38 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. If we conquer wrong and passion Keep our hearts from worldly sin Triumph o'er the foes without us, And subdue the foes within Noble acts will make us noble, Arm our souls with moral might ; E'en as others gone before us, Who have kept the path of Bight. There's a great high-road before us, Let us keep it, on right on Through the worst that can befal us, Yielding up our strength to none. More than human almost godlike, Thus the soul that takes its flight, And sits down amidst the angels Up the great high-road of Eight. STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. 39 HANG UP THE SWORD. HAN& up the sword let it rust and decay, Through all changes of time, mid the lumber of years, The glory it had is now passing away, Supplanted by one without bloodshed or tears. A new creed is rife in this planet of ours, And strongly it sways in the bosoms of men, Who summon the might of their holiest powers To make a good weapon and sure of the PEN. Hang up the sword give its fame to the wind, And the deeds it has done to the annals of lust The scales are removed from the eyes of the blind, WTio shudder to see how they've fattened the dust. " Peace !" " Peace !" is the cry, spreading every- where fast, And kindling proud hopes in the spirits of men The reign of the sword was earth's midnight now past The brightness of morning begins with the PEN. 40 STATES FOR THE HUMAN LADDER. Hang up the sword hang it up out of sight 'Tis useless, 'tis powerless, 'tis crimsoned with shame ; It may glare for awhile in the blaze of earth's light, Till the stain on the blade is transferred to our fame. But the blade shall be shivered, the stain be rubbed out, And the glory of old light our frail world again When, instead of the warrior's carnage and shout, Mind alone shall be might, and its weapon the PEN ! STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEE. 41 ONE GOOD TUEN DESEEVES ANOTHEE! WHILE the wheel of fate is turning, And the sun of life is burning, As, from May to Old December, Time glides on, let's still remember 'Tis our duty to exhibit A responsive grateful spirit ; For, believe me, friend or brother, One good turn deserves another ! If rebuked for an unkindness, For neglect, deceit, or blindness, And the voice of love or duty Would restore our inward beauty Let us take it as intended, And befriend where we're befriended- For, believe me, friend or brother, One good turn deserves another ! 42 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. If in life we are ascending, And some others are descending, Who assisted us in sorrow, And made brighter each to-morrow Shall we let an old friend perish, Whom our duty 'tis to cherish ? No ; believe me, friend or brother, One good turn deserves another ! STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. 43 HONEST AND HAPPY. THEBE'S much in the world that is doubtful, There's much we shall ne'er understand Why virtue should live in a poorhouse, And vice on the fat of the land. For those who are fretful and peevish, This duty remains to fulfil But strive to be honest and happy, And let the world do as it will ! The man who with plenty dishonours His name and his station, is poor ; While he who is humble, yet upright, Hath wealth that for aye shall endure ! The vicious may mock at his mem'ry, But ages will think on him still Then strive to be honest and happy, And let the world do as it will ! STAVES POE THE HUMAN LADDEE. Oil ! who would repine, then, at fortune, Though sorrow and toiling betide ? The man that with wealth is a villain, Might be virtuous were it denied. Too much may o'erburden and sink you, Too little oft keep you from ill, Then strive to be honest and happy, And let the world do as it will ! Whatever your fate or your station, To (rod and your country be true ; 'Love those you have proved to be faithful, And laugh at what malice can do ; And then, when affliction o'ertakes you, And death scorns at medical skill, You'll fall asleep honest and happy Yes, let the world do what it will ! STATES TOR THE HUMAN LADDEB. 45 NO GOOD EFFOKT'S WHOLLY LOST. STBTJGGLE, struggle late and early, Struggle hard, and struggle long, Though the world be dark and surly, And its rancour coarse and strong ; Fear not trials, shun not danger, Shrinking least where peril's most Who to conflict is a stranger ? No good effort's wholly lost ! By the midnight taper poring O'er the mind-reflecting page ; Thought-darts, soul-helps, gladly storing, Like a warrior of the age ; Beading, writing, pond'ring, thinking, Till the latest sheet is crossed, Neither truth nor duty blinking No good effort's wholly lost. 46 STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. In the great commercial city, Where the tyrant Mammon reigns, Weaning hearts from sense of pity, Meting virtues by their gains ; There, with angel tone and feature, Calm and kind, though tempest-tost, Show the life-seed in your nature No good effort's wholly lost ! Where the storm of passion rages, Where the felon victim weeps, And the pang no love assuages, Is the fruit that folly reaps. Clothed with mercy, full of kindness, Hail him from a friendly coast ; Pity thou and cheer his blindness, No good effort's wholly lost ! Where the outcast mother, bending, Watches o'er her famished child, With her sighs deep heart-prayers blending, Keep her spirit undefiled ; Cheer her loneness with His story, Who of suff'ring knew the cost ; How a manger held His glory No good effort's wholly lost ! NO GOOD EFFORT'S WHOLLY LOST. 47 To the stern one preach compassion, Move the rocky heart of pride ; Speak of that more glorious fashion, First worn by the Crucified : How He triumphed through His meekness, Quelled, amazed the rabble host ; Pitying every human weakness No good effort's wholly lost! If you meet a fallen daughter, Maddened, wronged by guilt and shame, Wound not with stale maxims, taught her Ere she knew a harlot's name ; But with words of love and duty Lead her back to virtue's post, To regain her heavenly beauty No good effort's wholly lost ! Struggle, struggle on for ever, Strong in purpose, heart, and mind 5 Pausing never, ceasing never, In your love-works for mankind. Caring not for frown or danger, Shrinking least when peril's most ; Who to conflict is a stranger ? No good effort's wholly lost ! 48 STATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. "IT IS A LONG LANE THAT HAS NO TUBNING." IN passing through this world of ours, So full of mixed delight, If thorns are interspersed with flowers And darkness with the light, What reason have we to complain, Though years, of grief we spend ? We know it is a long, long lane That never has an end. If clouds are round our path to-day, And gales and tempests rise, To-morrow's sun may chase away Each shadow from the skies. Could fate to us itself explain, 'Twould consolation lend, For oh ! it is a long, long lane That never has an end. IT IS A LONG LANE THAT HAS NO TUENING. 49 When hearts are given to regret, And shroud their hopes in fears, They only add to sorrow's debt The interest of its tears ; While those who breathe a lively strain, And trust Time as a friend, Soon find a turning in the lane That seemed to have no end. 50 STATES FOE THE HTJMABT IADDEB. MES. BEOWN AND MES. GEEEN. A very fair Christian is good Mrs. Brown, And wise, too, as any in any wise town ; She worships her God without any display, Not molesting her friend who lives over the way ; And, whatever occurs, it is easy to see That her words and her conduct do always agree. For this little maxim she shrewdly commends " Good precept and practice should ever be friends !" A very warm Christian is good Mrs. Green, In her satins, and velvets, and rich armazine ; She is always at church when the service begins, And prays quite aloud for the poor and their sins. Then her speech is so fair, and her manner so bland, They'd proselytise the most heathenish land ; And this one opinion she stoutly defends " That precept and practice should ever be friends !" MBS. BEOWN AND MES. GBEE1T. 51 Mrs. Brown has a reticule, useful though small, Which oft in the week she takes under her shawl, Calling first on this person, and then on the other, As if she were either a sister or mother ; And 't has oft been remarked, with good reason, no doubt, That the reticule's lighter for having been out ; For this little maxim she shrewdly commends " Good precept and practice should ever be friends !" Mrs. Green, now and then, for an hour, sits in state "With some more lady friends rich, of course to debate How the poor shall be clothed, and what taught, and what rules It were best to enforce in the Charity Schools ; All of which having over and over been turned, And nothing decided, the meeting's adjourned ; And this one opinion each lady defends " That precept and practice should ever be friends !" In the street where resides our good friend Mrs. Brown, Is a school, though not known to a tithe of the town, Which that lady supports from her own private purse ; (And 'tis thought by her neighbours she might do much worse ;) And if scholars, or parents, are ill or distressed, The reticule's sure to be had in request ; 52 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEB. Eor this little maxim she shrewdly .commends " Good precept and practice should ever be friends !" Mrs. Green has a sympathy deep and refined, It is not to parish or country confined ; If a party of ladies propose a bazaar To enlighten the natives of rude Zanzebar, She is truly delighted to sanction their aim, By giving wise counsel, and lending her name ; For this one opinion she stoutly defends " That precept and practice should ever be friends !" Mrs. Brown is a stranger to parties and sects, The good of all classes she loves and respects ; Thinking little enough of profession or creed, If the heart and the hand go not with it indeed ; While her prayers, and her purse, and her reticule, too, Eor all sorts of Christians a kindness will do ; As this little maxim she shrewdly commends " Good precept and practice should ever be friends !" As for good Mrs. Green, she will loudly declaim Against heresy, which, to its censure and shame, Allows the misguided to think and believe, Without pinning their faith to her armazine sleeve : MRS. BEOW5T A>~D MBS. GBEEX. 58 And if as she says she could have her own way, She would put all the heretics down in a day ; For this one opinion she stoutly defends " That precept and practice should ever be friends !" There are few Mrs. Browns not a few Mrs. Greens, ] n their satins, and velvets, and rich armazines. There are thousands who'll preach, lend their names, and give rules, But how few are provided with small reticules ! With the world, Mrs. Green, as a saint, will go down We will stake our existence on good Mrs. Brown, Who in word, and in deed, the trite maxim commends u Good precept and practice should ever be friends !" 54 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEB. TO-MOKKOW. WE prate of to-morrow, as 'twere yesterday, And boast what we'll do, as 'twere done Till youth, manhood, age, are all wasted away, And the business of life not begun. " Aye, aye ! " says the world, with an indolent leer, When the Present employment would find ; So a thousand to-days may have passed to their bier, Nor left one bright record behind. Would Time at our bidding glide slowly away, Or did we, like him, ne'er grow old, Then might we the purpose that lives for to-day Put off till to-morrow is told. But Now is the seed-time, good fruit to prepare, If neglected, the Past is not dumb To-morrow was ever a shadow, a snare, Always coming, yet never did come. STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEB. 55 THE LASH. The cruel case of "Flogging" which took place at Hounslow in the year 1846, when the victim of corporeal punishment was literally " eat to pieces," and many of his comrades, summoned to be eye-witnesses of the brutal exhibi- tion, fainted on the spot, is still in the recollection of the public. The limita- tion to " fifty lashes," which Gorernment has subsequently found it advisable to impose, is certainly calculated to prevent a fatal result in any future case ; and it is to be hoped the period is not far distant when all such outrages on true English feeling will be utterly and entirely abolished. STRIPE him, score him, whip him soundly, Sicken not at scar or spot, Teach him how to bear oppression How to bear and murmur not. Lacerate his naked shoulders, Cut to pieces flesh and bone ; He is but a private soldier, And as hard as any stone. 56 STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEB. Heed not, though his cries of suffering Cries for mercy rend the air ; Lay it on the faster, harder, Why should you, stern farrier, care ? In your breast no pity dwelleth, No respect or love for him, Like a soldier, do your duty, Cut to pieces back and limb. Hark ! the cheerful drum is rolling, Harbinger of glorious fame ; Let it nerve your arm, uplifted, To descend on manly shame. Courage, courage, flagging farrier, Scarcely yet the blood doth flow, What are thirteen dozen lashes ? He deserves them all, you know. Take no anxious thought for kindred, Eelatives or friendships dear ; He can have no fond relations, None to shed a single tear All have turned their backs upon him, He is in the world alone ; Sink it in his flesh the deeper, Till he answers groan with groan. THE LASH. 57 See, your officers and comrades, Gay spectators, stand around ; Only some half-score have fainted There they lie upon the ground. Harder slower noble farrier ; Now the blood begins to start ; Cut the throbbing veins asunder, Fetch it from his very heart. England's glory rests upon you England's valour now maintain : Every knot that cuts its victim Wipes away another stain. Would you see the British army Laurel-wreaths of honour claim ? Now the task may be accomplished, If you well direct your aim, If you'll only whip him soundly, Brand him to the very core, So that he can henceforth never Be a man or Christian more ! Rob him of his better nature, Pluck God's image from his breast, He will then become a demon, Hardy farrier, do your best. D 2 58 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. Heed not what our fawning statesmen, Or the wily priest, may say Sacrifice another victim, Do it nobly, as you may. Once again, across the shoulders, Deeper, heavier than before, Pause, and get a cat that's sharper, That is soaked too much with gore. By your love for Queen and country By the soldier's just reward By the colour of your jacket Let the culprit's back be scored. Harder slower veteran farrier, Tet another, give the slave, GOD ! O GOD ! AND SHALL THY CREATURES THUS BE BUTCHERED FOR THE GRAVE ! STAVES TOE THE HU3IAS LADDER. 59 EIGHT. r BE Right our guiding star for ever, The beacon of the soul Oh ! may we lose its bright beams never, Though dark waves round us roll. The world may threaten, smite, deceive us, Or dazzle with its light, But there's no power can harm or grieve us While yet our course is Bight. The statesman who would serve a nation, And make it great and free The patriot bard, whate'er his station, ' Sight ! ' must his motto be. The hero who would live in story, To win the world's great fight, Must lay aside the thought of glory, And stand upon the Sight. 60 STATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEB. "Whate'er our lot, our faith, opinion, Though high or low we be, Right over all should have dominion The star of destiny ! Pair woman in your native beauty, And manhood in your might, Long be your watchwords, ' Truth and Duty,'- There's no path like the Right. STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEB. 61 BBEATHE not angry words nor feelings, But be gentle, kind, and true ; Tender to each heart that turneth In its love and trust to you. Though the brow at times be clouded, And reproof sit on the tongue, It may not be meant unkindly, Nor designed to do you wrong. Breathe not angry thoughts nor feelings, Though assailed by foe or friend, But display a nobler spirit, So shall all contention end. When o'ercome by inward passion, It were well to bear in mind, That each word of anger uttered Leaves a poisoned shaft behind. STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEB. UP AND BE DOING. UP, and be doing, friends, Up, and be doing, A great work awaits you, friends, Time is pursuing Pause not for pleasure, friends, Linger not behind, Young and old, rich, and poor, Impotent and blind Up, and be doing, friends, Battle hard through life, Conquer SELF, and leave the world Better for the strife. Up, and be doing, friends, Up and be doing, Hope, o'er the path of life, Bright flowers is strewing. TIP AND BE DODfG. Like the daring eagle, friends, Dangers dark despise Gath'ring strength and mounting still Upward higher rise Trust in God, and courage, friends, Deeds ye shall perform, Only let the spirit soar High above the storm. Up, and be doing, friends, Up and be doing ; Subtle as the serpent, friends Gruilt's stain eschewing What of disappointment, friends, Frequent care and pain ? " Forward !" is the prompting cry, Till the goal you gain ; Follies may beset you, friends, Tempt you back to ill Tread them down, and still the soul's Destiny fulfil. Up, and be doing, friends, Up and be doing ; Every hour and every step, Heart-strength renewing. 64 STAVES FOR THE HUMAN LADDER. Gentle as the young dove, friends, Kind to one another, Every man in faith and love Cheering on his brother Heedless what his station, friends, Frail, oppressed, or poor, Give him comfort, lead him on, And the end is sure. Up, and be doing, friends, Up and be doing ; A great work awaits you, friends, Time is pursuing. Honour, Truth invite you, friends, Answer to their call, And the Dagons of the Past Must before them fall ! Up, and be doing, friends, Battle hard through life, Conquer SELF, and leave the world Better for the strife. STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. 65 TETJE TO THE END. As you begin so continue, Faint not nor pause by the way ; Let your thoughts be on the morrow Constant and warm as to-day. Chances and changes may happen, Clouds with life's sunshine must blend, Still, though the worst should befal you, Mind and be true to the end. Hoses that bloom in the summer, Perish when autumn comes on, And friendships ripened by fortune, Die, too, when fortune is gone. Earth has no holier blessing Than an unvarying friend One that will love through all seasons, Constant and true to the end. 66 STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. AET AND INDUSTEY. HAIL ! glorious Art and Industry ! Go, speed ye, hand in hand, And spread the triumphs of your might Through every clime and land. In ye the world's true splendour shines, Its noblest schemes have birth, Twin- workers nursed by Nature's self- And champions of the earth. Oh ! may for ages still to come Tour world-wide harvests spring, And scatter golden gifts to all, From subject up to king ; For Art and Commerce, thus engaged, Must rarer conquests yield, Than any naval victory Or memorable field. ABT AND INDUSTRY. 67 With force of arms a nation's strength Should never be combined, Since surer are the lion-powers Of industry and mind. And he who makes the printing press, Or shapes the little pen, Is greater far than he who slays By scores his fellow men. 68 STAVES FOR THE HUMAN LADDEE. NO MOBNING SUN SHINES ALL THE DAT!" No morning sun shines all the day, But passes with the noon away, And flowers that watched it early rise Die out, or close their gentle eyes. So, hopes in youth's bright morn begun, Expire before life's sands are run, And leave the heart, in tears, to say, " No morning sun shines all the day." Oh ! ye who toil, and ye who play And sport in fortune's fickle ray ; And loving natures, bound in one, Whose spring of happiness flows on, Improve the time, employ each hour That woos you with its fleeting power, Lest age should force the heart to say, "No morning sun shines all the day." STATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEE. 69 MIND AND LOOK BEFOEE YOU LEAP." venture, nothing win," Is a maxim good and true, When life's journey you begin, And have all the work to do. Fortune does with courage ride Only timid mortals creep Still, let caution be your guide Mind and look before you leap. Never to appearance trust, But to common sense appeal Oft a goodly rind or crust Doth a rotten core conceal. " All that glitters is not gold," Better pause, or, snail-like, creep, Than go wrong, and then be told "You should look before you leap." STAVES POE THE HUMAN LADDEE. Better than a perfect cure Is prevention for each pain ; Those alone can be secure "Who look o'er the hedge again. See your way, and then launch out, Thus you'll clear each miry deep, For there's neither fear nor doubt, When you look before you leap. STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEE. 71 THE GOLDEN RULE. OH ! do ever to another, As you'd have him do to you ; Be to him a kindly brother, And he'll prove a brother too. Love him for his human nature, For its own intrinsic worth, Still the same in every creature, Whether high or low his birth. Shame and guilt may overtake him, But to thine ownself be true, Eor, be sure, if you forsake him, Others will forsake him too. Oh ! do ever to another As you'd have him do to you ; Be a man, a friend, a brother, Kind and gentle, firm and true ; 72 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER, For if once his love is slighted, And his honest heart you spurn, You must look to be requited He will scorn you in return ; But, if firm to love and duty, As through life you travel on, Then your own heart will salute ye With the blessed words "well done!" STAVES FOB THE HFMAN LADDER. 73 THE OCEAN PENNY POSTAGE. WE wait, like patient men, the day When o'er the restless ocean The Thought shall have a cheap highway, To transmit each emotion ; When, heart in converse close with heart, And with a love for others, Mankind, three thousand miles apart, Shall be but distant brothers. We wait, like earnest men, the day When every man and woman Shall fling cold prejudice away, And speak and feel in common; When winds of peace shall fill each sail, And men shall take their sabres, And beat them into pens, to hail Their Transatlantic neighbours, E 74 STATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. PENCE AND POUNDS. WOULD the practice of the many- More diffused this truth around He who does not save the penny, Never will possess the pound. Conscious that in small beginnings Lies the way to greater store, Prudence hoardeth up her winnings, Making still each little more. Life may not be always sunny, Youth and strength will pass away, Useful, then, the stock of money Saved against " a rainy day." "Would the practice of the many More diffused this truth around He who does not save the penny, Never will possess the pound. STATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. 75 COMMON MEAN'S. Do not wait for great occasions, For imposing situations, To become a mighty actor, Hero, thinker, benefactor ; Do not wait for days of leisure Busy but with useless pleasure, Lost in worldly speculations, Airy baubles of the nations Nor with "ifs," and shows of reason, Tarry till a riper season ; But with manly zeal and bearing, For a cause that's worth the daring^ Try to be a mighty actor, Hero, thinker, benefactor. 76 STAVES FOE THE HTJMAW LADDER. What will labour not subdue Plodding perseverance do ? In the acorn lies the oak ; 'Tis the oft-repeated stroke Levels forests to the plain, As the insect, grain by grain, Toiling on through years of days, Does its coral islands raise. Difficulties disappear When the Will cries " Persevere !" And the distant twilight grey Changes into brighter day, As the spirit still ascends, By little means, to mighty ends. Be his station e'er so low, Man shall reap as he does sow. From the anvil, plough, and loom, From the mine and pent-up room, Spirit-lights have beamed ere now ; And the throbbing heart and brow Of the lowly and self-taught Such mind-wonders shaped and wrought, That the world has turned aside From her heroes, deified, To behold her working ones Franklins, Watts, and Stephensons COMMON MEANS. Seize the elements at will, And harness them to aid their skill. Wait not till the great appear, Do your best to bring it near ; Use the common and the mean, Drop or atom, all, I ween, Are but means unto an end. And within them comprehend Elements of life and power, Suited to the varied hour ; Something, hid from sense and light, You may demonstrate to sight, Which the world shall give a place 'Mongst the landmarks of your race. Grasp the moment ere it flies ; Once upon the wing it dies ; Store it up, as golden grain, In the coffer of the brain. Stand upon the world's vast stage, Looking upward through the age, To anticipate the birth Of that epoch of the earth, When the better part of man, Strung and tuned to Nature's plan, 78 STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEK. Shall in constant thought rehearse The music of the universe. Search and labour while you may ; Be a something in your day ; Leave some goodly work behind That shall cheer and bless mankind ; Conquer some unconquered ill ; Bend the stubborn to your will ; Let some undeveloped germ, Invulnerable to the worm, Show the principle divine Throbbing in that breast of thine ; Be a something not a clod A mind-ray from the living Grod ! STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEB. 79 WEEE IT NOT AS WELL ? ENOUGH of prisons, transport ships of whippingposts and tools The wisdom of the age demands that we reverse the rules, That, 'stead of putting prisons up in every crowded town, 'Twere better far to try and put the evil doers down. Our ancestors sagacious men, and thoughtful in their day Of wisdom and economy vouchsafed a good display ; To banish crime and criminals, and save, too, much expense, They hung offenders every day, on any small pretence. 80 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEE. Now were it not an easy thing, and were it not as well, To put down crime, so save the cost, and save the life as well, By prudently reversing all our antiquated rules, And turning English prisons into better training schools ? Thus speaks, demands, the wisdom true of these our modern days, . When Christian men are not content to merely pray and praise ; But, looking at the human field, with spirit pure, devout, Each one is doing what he can to root some evil out ! STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEB. 61 WOKLDLY TEACHINGS. , wouldst thou be loved and honoured, Live in ease and state Be the wonder of the lowly, Feast-guest of the great Copy, then, the world's example, Coin thy soul for pelf: " Men will praise thee when thou doest Well unto thyself." If the voice of public duty Call thee, pass it by ; If the poor and suffering seek thee With a downcast eye, Never yield your heart to pity, Bow to nought but pelf : " Men will praise thee when thou doest Well unto thyself." E 2 82 STAVES POB THE HUMAN LADDEB. Place your feet upon the fallen, Scorn the needy man ; See no good in starving thousands, But their vices scan ; Sinless, pure, will thine own soul be, Mirrored in thy pelf: " Men will praise thee when thou doest WeQ. unto thyself." Whether railway shares or gaming, Craft or merchandise, 'Tis that fills thy daily coiFers In thy neighbour's eyes ; Bend the knee and bow the spirit To no god but pelf : " Me*n will praise thee when thou doest Well unto thyself." Pools are they, and brainless mockers, Who will give their store To a world that takes and, taking, Coolly asks for more ; To a world that will return you Curses, blows, for pelf : " Men will praise thee when thou doest WeU unto thyself." WOBLDLY TEACHINGS. 83 Be thou hypocrite or tyrant, Infidel, or worse, Thou mayst pass for saint or angel, Measured by the purse. Earth esteems no virtue greater Than that one thing Pelf : " Men will praise thee when thou doest Well unto thyself." 84 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. THE MOTE AND THE BEAM. ALAS ! for the beam in our own weak eyes, When it blindeth our purest sympathies, And giveth to all that is fair and true The jaundiced shades of its own dark hue. When though it be plain as the noonday sun We see not the good that is daily done, But ever attempt to destroy in part The blossoms that spring from a kindly heart. Alas ! when descending from Charity's throne, We judge of men's motives and acts by our own, Making Self the infallible rule and guide, Yet striving our own weak points to hide ; While viewing with microscopical lens, And noting down with malevolent pens, Small errors, though always neglecting to tell Of the great good found in the search as well. THE MOTE AXD THE BEAM. 85 Alas ! when to do good we have not the will, But turn e'en the good done by others to ill, And cover our neighbour with sorrow and shame, Corrupting his peace and traducing his name ; As if like the archfiend from heaven cut off "With a curse in the soul, on the lip a wild scoff, We laboured to blot out the virtues of life, And crowd it with malice and falsehood and strife. 86 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDIE. THE SPECTACLE. A SEA of heads below, Of congregated faces, Huddled and packed to show How limited the space is. Ten thousand look like one Fathers, children, and mothers- Ten thousand are as one Human sisters and brothers. A glare of upturned eyes, Basilisks wildly staring ; Lips imparted by sighs, But oaths and curses sharing ; Blasphemy, jest, and song, Bandied in wild disorder Stories of culprits hung, Greenacre, Eush, and Corder. THE SPECTACLE. 87 Oh ! what a harvest time For booths and public-houses ! A festival of crime, When each vile wretch carouses ! Oh ! what a dainty day For letting window places, Where in the sun's bright ray, Now shine those human faces ! Thieves plying their trade, The lost abandoned, drinking ; Criminals being made, No sense of pain or shrinking. Voices rending the air, Volley succeeding volley, From hearts consumed by care, Yet striving to be "jolly." Oh ! what a raging hell Lighteth those upturned features ! Oh ! what an evil spell Curseth those mingling creatures ! Fiercer the rabble shout, As the victim seems to falter. Alas ! the ill poured out On that mass, like poisoned water ! 88 STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEB. There on the scaffold drear, Before death's open portal, Trembling with shame and fear, Bends the accursed mortal : Closed is the chaplain's book, That of ONE ATONEMENT speaketh- With a despairing look, "Mercy, Christ!" he shrieketh. Nerved aye, with brandy old Courageous as a devil, Standeth the wretch who sold His manhood to do this evil ; While 'neath the fated Tree, A group of vultures, quarrel About the hangman's fee, For the dying man's apparel. A shrill moan of despair, As the signal dread is given And he dangleth in the air, Midway 'twixt earth and heaven ; Like a dog that has no soul, With writhed and black'ning features, Thrust down to life's dread goal, By erring, human creatures ! THE SPECTACLE. Plung rudely in the face Of the Holy and All-Seeing Who still a little space Might have borne with that poor being Stagg'ring and out of breath, Stunned with the world's loud riot, To wait far worse than death The everlasting fiat. A sea of heads below, Of congregated faces, Huddled and packed to show How limited the space is. Ten thousand look like one Fathers, children, and mothers Ten thousand are as one Human sisters and brothers. Homeward the masses trail, To haunts of destitution, Where children stunted, pale, Feed, gloat upon pollution. Where "gin," and dirt, and crime, And natures coarse and callous, Breeding in human slime Work for the hulks and gallows. 90 STATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEB. Back from the life-blood spilt, To their nocturnal revels They trail, to add to guilt The recklessness of devils ; To vaunt the deeds of Mm The law destroyed that morning, And chant his fun'ral hymn The sword of Justice scorning. Thus murder is reproved ! Of course, the world's condition Is very much improved By such an exhibition ! Alas ! alas ! the day ! Of that vast throng, so "jolly," Not one but went away More hardened in Ms folly ! STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEB. 91 TKIFLES. OH ! meanest trifles have the power To change the fashion of life's hour ; To lull the soul to sweet repose, Calm as the unmolested rose ; Or rouse the functions of the brain To sternest grief and direst pain ; Yet rarely do we mark that power Till changed the fashion of life's hour. A cloud will intercept the sun ; A web, by insect-workers spun, Preserve the life within the frame, Or vapours take away the same. A grain of sand upon the sight Will rob a giant of his might, Or needle-point let out the breath, And make a banquet meal for Death. 92 STATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEE. How often at a thoughtless word The heart with agony is stirred, And ties that years could not have riven Are scattered to the winds of heaven. A glance, that tells what lips would speak, Will speed the pulse and blanch the cheek ; And thoughts, nor looked, nor yet expressed, Create a chaos in the breast. A smile of hope from one we love May be an angel from above ; A whispered welcome in our ears Be as the -music of the spheres ; The pressure of a gentle hand Worth all that glitters in the kind. Oh ! meanest trifles have the power To change the fashion of life's hour. STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEB. 93 LET THEM DIE ! " A poor woman, whose husband lay upon his death-bed, applied at one of our Union workhouses for temporary relief, which was refused, the governor insisting that she must wait till board-day. In the meantime the husband died." Vide Sunday Time*, January, 1 W. WHY, let them die ! their limbs are worn and weary, Their spirits bowed and broken let them die ; Their pathway through the busy world is dreary, And hopeless grief the couch whereon they lie. Famine broods over the domestic hearth, Our joys are baffled with their piteous cry ; Then give the grave its own lean clods of earth A better world awaits them if they die. Why, let them die ! they are not worth the pains Humanity must take to keep them here, Aad it would tax, some proud official's brains To keep their sufferings from the public ear. 94 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEE. We shall not miss them from the crowded street, Where now their destitution wounds the eye. The wealthy will their wealthy neighbours meet "With far more pleasure when the poor can die. Our workhouses are laden with such ware, Our pockets taxed to feed the thankless swarm, Our industry provides the clothes they wear, Our own bright fires are robbed to keep them warm. Under our windows, at our doors, they linger, To pilfer from the family supply ; When God has set on them his vengeful finger, What have the houseless left to do but die ? Why, let them die ! the earth is overstocked, The very air infected that we breathe ; And sensitive humanity is shocked To look upon the worms that crawl beneath. Then let them die ! ye thoughtless sons of mirth, Whose joys are bafiled with their piteous cry ; Give to the grave its own lean clods of earth, A better world awaits them if they die. STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. 95 "NIL DESPEKANDUM." " NIL desperandum" be our cry, When skies look dark or danger's nigh For oh ! be sure, whate'er betide, Our shield to be, our feet to guide, Some angel form, on Hope's bright wings, Looks calmly down, and sweetly sings, As it would tune the list'ning air To sounds that bid us not despair. Or, when in sorrow's silent hour "We feel the blow and own its power, And hearts we love, and friends of old, Die off, or what is worse grow cold ; Still, mid each burning grief and tear, Hope's watchful angel lingers near, And prompts us, in the voice of prayer, To trust in God, and not despair. 96 STAVES TOE THE HUMAN LADDEE. PACT AND FICTION. Two kindred spirits sought the earth, Sent by the Maker-mind To open with a jewelled key New worlds unto mankind. Sisters they were alike in form And lineament exact Fiction the one was called by name Her sister's name was Fact. Fact, with a microscopic eye, Interpreting the true, Revealed a living universe In every drop of dew ; The mysteries of secret things Eeduced to rule and plan, And brought the lightning from the skies To be the slave of man. FACT AND FICTION. 97 Fiction, the measure of the soul Took with a hasty span, Then made the beautiful to be A high-priest unto man ; Created worlds of light, which hymned The anthem of the spheres ; And moved all hinds to laugh with her, Or had the world in tears. The world was wiser much for Fact, And Science raised her voice And bade the universal mind In its own strength rejoice. But from mankind such angel works Exalted Fiction drew, That earth was nearer drawn to heaven, And men's hearts nearer too. 98 STATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. THE BEST OF FRIENDS MUST PAST.' BE it written on the heart, "With each hope that gilds the morrow, That " the best of friends must part In the hour of joy or sorrow." Life may yield us raptures few, And its sweetest be but fleeting, Still, were there no fond adieu, There could be no fonder meeting. "When we meet, as cherished friends, Or, as loving ones, true hearted, Let the present make amends, For each anxious hour departed ; Lest the tender heart we prize, And would fondly cling to ever, "When it passes from our eyes Should return to bless us never ! STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. 99 "NO KOOM!" "During the severity of the present inclement season, a poor womui, in extreme distress, applied at one of our Union workhouses for admittance for herself and children, and was dismissed with this summary reply "There's n room ! ' "Vide Dispatch, December, 1846. BACK ! wretched suppliant ! back To thy cheerless, homeless dwelling ! Though the snow-flake hides thy track, And the bitter wind is telling Its wintry tale of woes, Howling where'er it goes Like some lorn ghost that wand'ring near the river, Sees in the silent tide The pale face of the suicide, And moans in agony for ever. Back to thy bed of straw ! Back till thy pleadings thaw The world's oppressive law \ 100 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEH. Hence to thy haunt of famine, grief, and gloom The workhouse swarms as yet there is "no room." Wait till the hand of death Has robbed some one of breath, And in a pauper's grave he lies. Each day some inmate dies " Room" " room" for fresh supplies Of human suffering sent to its last doom Wait at the gate till Death shall make more " room. Back ! stand back, though snow and sleet Pall round thee like a winding sheet. Patience and sad endurance Must the wounded spirit learn, That longs for death, and pines for death, Yet would not bide its turn When the workhouse door is shut and barred, And the heart with wrongs doth burn. There is " room ! " there is " room ! " A spirit has gone from the gloomy pile Haste ! enter in at the -summons smile Mother and children leave despair To the thousands pinched by the bleak night-air The tomb the tomb Has found ye " room." STAVES FOB THE HUMA^ LADDEB. 101 NIGHT IN THE CAPITAL. NIGHT ! Night in the Capital, Besting on it, like a pall ; Shutting in the pomp and pride Of the restless human tide Ever moving to and fro, Wealth to gather, ill to sow, Jostling in the crowded street, Bushing on with eager feet, Mad, impatient, out of breath From the cradle to the death. Night ! Night in the Capital ! Scarce a lunar ray does fall, Or a sleepless star look down On the pent-up giant town, Stretching miles n. : ;d miles away, Farther than the eye can stray, 102 STAVES FOI1 THE HUMAN LADDEU. Over steeples, roofs and fanes, Throughout alleys, courts and lanes. Night ! Night in the Capital, Uesting on it like a pall : Equipages roll along With the pleasure-seeking throng ; Drowsy cabmen loll at ease ; Foot-sounds die off by degrees ; Shops a sombre aspect wear ; Tavern lamps for ever glare ; Home the foaming drunkard reels " One o'clock," from belfry peals. Night ! Night in the Capital ! Would to God that each that all, Calmly sleeping, lay at rest, With an angel in the breast, And sweet visions of the skies Passing 'fore the mental eyes, To the breathing world were given Sinless dreams and hopes of heaven. Night ! Night in the Capital Does its wonted scenes recal : Fiendish riot, mirth, and din ; Drops of water streams of " Gin ;" FIGHT IN THE CAPITAL. 103 Swollen features hissing tongues ; Hearts revengeful of their wrongs ; Blearing eyes, whose hollow stare Seems to mock the gas-light's glare ; Men and women cursing cursed Souls prepared to dare the worst ; Fighting, drinking all pell-mell, Bushing headlong down to hell ; Till the morning's sickly light Dawns upon that " Palace" bright. Night ! Night in the Capital ! Boiled up, like a hoop or ball, Little more than skin and bone, 'Neath the black, chill arch, alone, Cowers the houseless, vagrant boy ; With a spectral gleam of joy Shooting hopeward in the breast, As he turns in vain to rest And the dark hours steal away "Waiting for returning day, That to such as him may bring Something more than suffering : Like a beast that seeks its lair, Crouching from the damp night-air.* * " Thousands of unhappy creatures have never known what it was to sleep in a bed. They pass the night -under dry arches of bridges and viaducts, 104 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. Night ! Night in the Capital, Full of human grief and gall : Pacing on the river's brink, Maddened half afraid to think Backed with agony and shame Branded with a filthy name Folding, in her wild unrest, Guilt's love-offering on her breast ; Suff 'ring, hatred, scorn and sin, Crime without and crime within : These before, and death behind Oh ! the demon of the mind ! Calmly flows the wakeful tide, Soothingly its waters glide : Hushed the wind no sound no breath Fearless plunge they both to death. Day looks on and down the tide Floats the wretched suicide. Night ! Night in the Capital ! Mark the shadow on the wall, "Working on by candle-light, Through the dull and silent night, wider porticoes, sheds, carts in out-houses, saw-pits, stair-cases, or in the open air.' Lord Ashley relates an instance of a little ragged starveling, in whom misery had not as yet extinguished all fellow-feeling, who kindly promised to a comrade that ' he would put him up to a good thing.' And he kept his word, by allowing his friend, during the cold, inclement winter nights, to share his bed the inside of a large iron-roller in the Kegent's-park." Liverpool Mercury. NIGHT IN THE CAPITAL. 105 Pricking with the needle point Heart and brain and finger joint ; Drawing out life's slender thread In exchange for daily bread ; Hearing, in the night- wind's stave, Sounds, like feet upon her grave Sits the sempstress. Months go round And that wasted form is found, Still thus toiling. No glad hope Mingles in her life's frail cup ; No bright future stretching far Shines before her as a star Sleep, that long has loitered there, Smites her sitting in her chair ; And the task unfinished falls Daybreak creeps along the walls. Night ! Night in the Capital, Three the hour, and tranquil all. In a small and narrow room, Close and silent as the tomb, As the early hours glide on, Bends in deep abstraction one Who has taken up the Pen To convince his fellow men, Pleading, in impressive tones, For a Truth the world disowns. F 2 106 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. Only sheets of paper white Pass before the outward sight Only thoughts yet undivined Flash across the active mind ; Yet, in ah 1 the goodly land, Ne'er hath weapon clutched by hand Half such mighty battle done, Ere the rising of the sun. Every page, and every line Teems with energy divine ; Every sentiment expressed, Patent to the human breast, Finds its echo, works its way, 'Mongst the masses day by day, Moulding unshaped minds by stealth, Giving freedom, vision, health, Shedding light and warmth around, Sowing seed in fruitful ground ; Breathing of the "coming time" Soul-Sabbatic hour, sublime When the higher parts employed, And the lower parts destroyed, Grood of ill shall take the place In our nature, and our race. Thus (deprived of needful rest, Oft with poverty distressed) By the midnight toiler's THOUGHT Is the world improved and taught. HIGHT IN THE CAPITAL. 107 Night ! Night in the Capital, Boiling up its sombre pall, Fadeth in the morning sun ; And the human day begun, Sounds of voices, crowding feet, Throng the ever restless street ; Jostling, thrusting, on they go As the river's waters flow Mad, impatient, out of breath From the cradle to the death. STAVES FOR THE HUMAN LADDER. WHEN I HAD A SHILLING TO LEND. (New Words to an Old Tune.) WHEN I had a shilling to lend to lend ; When I had a shilling to lend, Oh ! never was mortal so loved and caressed, Earth had thousands of good ones, but I was the best ; I had friends that, like mushrooms, sprung up in a day, And each one was ready his homage to pay. Not a project was dreamt of, or sought to be done, But some lacquey, to ask my opinion, would run, Till, at last, at this truth I began to arrive, That the world would most certainly eat me alive For the days, and the seasons, all seemed to depend On the man who'd a shilling to lend to lend On the man who'd a shilling to lend. WHEN I HAD A SHILLING TO LEND. 109 When I had a shilling to beg to beg ; When I had a shilling to beg, Oh ! never was mortal so shunned and accursed. Earth had thousands of bad ones, but I was the worst. If an old friend I met, in the broad light of day, He would pass with a nod, or cross over the way ; And as for opinion oh ! nobody dreamed Of heeding a fellow so lightly esteemed ; For the man without money, whate'er his pretence, It was plain, could possess neither feeling nor sense : Till the world, I confess, seemed to care not a peg For the man who'd a shilling to beg to beg For the man who'd a shilling to beg. 110 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. MAKE NO BASH PEOMISE. BEWARE how you promise, By sign or by tongue, Lest the faith should be right, And the judgment be wrong. For too oft we have reason First thoughts to forego, When, if "Yes" were not said, It were best to say " No ! " When you do give your word, Let it be as the deed, For the one should the other So truly succeed ; But make no rash promise, By sign or by tongue, Lest the faith should be right, And the judgment be wrong. STATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEK. Ill WATEBLOO ! OH ! speak no more of Waterloo ! Napoleon's fall hath passed away, And Time and Peace have thrown a pall O'er England's valour on that day A tear, perchance, the eye may shed, When scanning its red ruin o'er, But of the glorious vict'ry gained, I pray you, speak no more ! Oh ! speak no more of Waterloo ! Tet honour to the brave we'll give ; And Wellington, through future years, As hero-statesman yet may live But greater conqu'rors have sprung up, To build their fame from shore to shore, And so of glorious Waterloo I pray you, speak no more ! 112 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEH. Who save, not slay, win best renown : The Press is now the metal true, And mightier deeds the Pen has done, Than e'er were done at Waterloo Deeds which shall spread, in breadth and length, Till Time's deep waters cease their roar ; When vict'ries such as Waterloo Thank God ! will be no more ! STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. 113 BE FIRM! BE firm as the rock, and as bold as the billow ; Let Truth be your helmsman, and Honour your pillow ; Look the world and its frowns in the face with defiance, On God and his word ever placing reliance. War and conflict for ever may battle around you, But stand to your post, and they shall not confound you ; For the soul that is firm, and looks upward for ever, Shall conquer the worst, and be overcome never ! Be firm, when the syren of insinuation Would make you untrue to yourself or the nation ; When interest and policy give an opinion, And bid you submit to their wiser dominion, Let cowards and sycophants list to their story, Stand you by the Truth, and exhibit its glory ; For he who can live above fear and temptation Is the king of hia clan, and the pride of creation. 114 STATES FOB THE HUMA.X LADDER. CHEEISH ONLY KINDLY FEELINGS. CHEBISH only kindly feelings ; Why should bitter thoughts intrude, To corrupt our human nature With unworthy hate or feud ? Does the star, at midnight shining, Ever wear an angry face ? Why should man, then more exalted Bring dishonour on his race ? Cherish only kindly feelings ! Love, with purest instincts rife, Can alone sustain the spirit Through the wilderness of life. Does the flower, with jealous aspect, Scorn its sister's loving face ? Why should man, then more exalted Bring dishonour on his race ? STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. 115 THE UNKNOWN GOD." " A few days ago, the following occurred at the Mansion House, in London, the first city in the world ! It is unnecessary to state more than that the lad was a witness subpoened in a case of assault : A boy, named George Rugby, who appeared to be about fourteen years old, was then pat in the box, and the Testament was handed to him. He looked quite astonished upon taking hold of the book. Alderman Hump fiery Well, do you know what you are about? Do yon know what an oath is ? Boy No. Alderman Humphery Do you know what a Testament is? Boy No. Alderman Humphery Can you read? Boy No. Alderman Humphery Do you ever say your prayers? Boy No, never. Alderman Humphery Do you know what prayers are ? Boy No. Alderman Humphery Do you know what God is ? Boy No. Alderman Humphery Do you know what the devil is ? Boy No ; I've heard of the devil, but I don't know him. Alderman Humphery What do you know, my poor fellow? Boy I knows how to sweep the crossing. Alderman Humphery And that's all ? Boy That's all. I sweeps the crossing. The Alderman said, that in all his experience be had never met with any thing like the deplorable ignorance of the poor unfortunate child in the witness-box. He, of course, could not take the evidence of a creature who knew nothing whatever of the obligation to tell the troth." The Peopled and HowiU't Journal, January, 1850. WHAT ! have we, then, no preachers ? No useful moral teachers ? No bishops, deans, or rectors, Or other soul-directors ? No doctors of divinity, Defenders of the Trinity ? 116 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEK. No vicar, chaplain, deacon, To be a Gospel-beacon ? No plodding Scripture reader, For truth an interceder ? No liberal contributor ? No tract distributor ? No churchman, young or hoary, To labour for God's glory ? No Protestant in all the nation To raise the standard of salvation ? What ! have we no Dissenters, Anti-state sin -preventers ? No Baptists, Independents, Good Lutheran descendants ? No Wesleyans or Quakers ? No Banters, Jumpers, Shakers ? No Romish cardinal, Or holy monk at all, Or sisters vowed to charity, To be of Dorcas-rarity ? No Scottish Presbyterians, Or good Moravians ? No Jews or Unitarians ? No orthodox Tractarians, Southcotians, or Saints of Latter-day, To teach from Saturday to Saturday ? THE UNKNOWN GOD. 117 What ! have we then no Sabbath-school instruction, To cause in sin and sinners a reduction ? No schools, free or proprietary, For educational dietary ? No visiting association mission, To reach the people in their worst condition ? No useful means 'mongst all denominations To put the break on earth's abominations ? No Bible, periodical, or sermon, Or are they printed but in Greek and Bunnan ? No tract, or warning pages, Whose spirit ever wages, In language of remonstrance, deep and holy, War against vice, and ignorance, and folly ? No college, chapel, synagogue, or steeple, Nor any kind of decent Christian people, With hearts on fire, and burning The wide world to be turning Prom scenes infernal To the Eternal ? Oh! what have we been doing ? What path or plan pursuing ? What daily progress making In that vast undertaking, By which, as in God's word advised, The world's to be evangelized ; 118 STATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. That after eighteen hundred years have fled, And in the greatest city of the world, Where Martyrs for the Truth have striv'n and bled, To have the Gospel flag unfurled That mid the pomp, refinement, education Of advanced civilisation, There should be found A type of thousands living round A soul as ignorant of Christ of laws divine, As they who offer at a Pagan shrine ? Who only " sweeps the crossing," nor e'er heard Of Grod nor prayed nor read His holy word. Have we like Paul, Apollos been unceasing In sowing seeds of truth around, And wat'ring the uncultured ground Leaving to Gfod the blessing and increasing ; Counting all things but dross, Contrasted with the " Cross ;" Giving up mammon-worship, pride, and lust, Humbling ourselves, yea, even to the dust ; Strength'ning the bonds of human love and peace, And bidding party strife and hatred cease ? Or, have we not been something too sectarian, Or rather nothingarian, Taking, how oft, delight in Internal broils and fighting ; THE UNKNOWN GOD. 119 Setting Beliefs to battle, To make a show and rattle ; Inciting each poor brother To rush upon some other ; Cursing the man, with bitterness of tone, Who would not sell Ms creed and take our own ; Instead of casting off the bigot's fetter, And doing what we could to make men better ? So while disputing day by day, How God to worship, in what form to pray Neglecting to set forth proclaim Jehovah's attributes and name ; To raise the fallen from the sod, Or teach him that there is a God ! Oh ! mockery, forsooth, Of God of Christian truth ! Oh ! sad misuse of knowledge, zeal, and time, When men grow up untutored save for crime Living, like forest boars, Even at our church doors ! " I knows to sweep the crossing and that's all." Oh ! for the earnest the soul-stirring Paul, To raise his voice, as erst of old, And with a mighty spirit, bold, "The unknown God" declare, Through alley, street, and square ? 120 STAVES FOB THE HUMAN LADDEB. Or, must Christ again come down, And in the royal town Be offered up, ere men shall know, and/ee/, There is a GOD, to whom they ought to kneel ? " I knows to sweep the crossing." In that day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, And rich and poor shall meet Before the judgment seat ; 'Twere well, if there be writ on no life-scroll " 2fo man cared for my soul!" STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. 121 GOOD WE MIGHT DO. all might do good Where we often do ill, There is always the way, If we have but the will : Though it be but a word, Kindly breathed, or suppressed, It may guard off some wrong, Or give peace to some breast. We all might do good In a thousand small ways In forbearing to flatter, Yet yielding due praise ; In spurning ill rumour ; Reproving wrong done ; And treating but kindly Each heart we have won. 122 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDER. "We all might do good, Whether lowly or great, For the deed is not gauged By the purse or estate: If it be but a cup Of cold water that's given, Like the widow's two mites, It is something for heaven. STAVES TOB THE HUMAN LADDER. 123 TEY. WHEN Hope was first sent down to man, To cheer and aid him in each plan, And saw that he was apt to sigh For means that in himself might lie ; This simple truth she breathed around, Wherever tribes of men she found That those who would Fate's frown defy, Must hope and trust, and trust and try ! So, since that time, no listless fears Have clipped the number of man's years, But he has sought to win each prize That Hope has held before his eyes : Till now what often she denied Man takes nor waits for wind or tide For he who would Fate's frown defy, Must hope and trust, and trust and try ! 124 STATES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEB. "BE MEKRY AND WISE!" O, life is a banquet of pleasure, For mortals to taste of designed, And he who sits down to't at leisure Can have any dish to his mind : Wit and humour are always in season, And a thousand delights we must prize- But the lord of the table is Reason, Who bids us be merry AND wise. True mirth is a friend to good feeling, To happiness, comfort, and health When reason its light is revealing We're nearer to honour and wealth. The soul that feeds but upon folly, And mocks every hour as it flies, May think itself wondrously "jolly," But say, is it merry AND wise ? BE MBBET AND WISE. 125 When sitting, then, down at life's table, To use, not dishonour its cheer, Let us feast on as long as we're able, Nor e'er discontented appear ; But bow to each fate in its season, Each sunshine that gladdens our eyes But the lord of the table is Season, Who bids us be merry AND wise. 126 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEE. SELF-DEPENDENCE. READ and ponder read and ponder Mark it wisely, mark it well, 'Tis a truth of wisdom's teaching, As the oldest heads can tell ; For, of all the gifts of fortune, Howsoe'er those gifts we scan, There's not one like Self-dependence For the self-respect of man. Boots it little what the labour, He who schemes or he who delves, It is known the wide world over " God helps them who help themselves." Fortune ever strews her favours Where they will not be despised ; That which is not worth the gaining Ever is but lightly prized. SELF-DEPENDENCE. 127 Means and ways we have within us, Suited to each time and place, And the worst of ills must vanish, When confronted face to face. Learn to swim without assistance, Fear not to strike out alone ; He who trusts for strength to others, Never can have tried his own. Strength increases with the using Powers that dwarfed and useless lie, May possess the force of giants, If those powers we only try. Let the spirit of the fable, In the heart, itself reveal, Give up listless grief, and bravely " Put the shoulder to the wheel." Putting on true Self-dependence, He who does the best he can, Such a one the world may honour With the chartered name of MAN. Summon, then, your utmost efforts, Leave none rusting on the shelves ; It is known the wide world over " Gbd helps them who help themselves." 128 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEB. PEAYEE OF KOSSUTH. LORD GOD of Arpad's warriors, Look, from thy throne of stars, Upon afflicted Hungary Her children's wrongs and scars. To thee a million earnest prayers From patriot hearts ascend : Eise, God, and fight their battles, thou Creator, Guardian, Friend ! Thy sun, the torch of Liberty, Irradiates the skies, As lighting to a glorious grave Each corpse that round me lies. Thy heavens are blue the carpet fair, Beneath thy footsteps spread But the green earth of thy making "With hallowed blood is red. PEATEB OF KOSSTJTH. 129 Send, God, upon these fallen ones Thy Spirit's genial ray, That not one lifeless image here May perish in decay ; But that from these rude scattered seeds Immortal flowers may bloom, And shed a spirit-grandeur round The martyr-heroes' tomb. God of the Nations far and wide ! God of my ancient sires ! Preserve on this blood-altar scene The light of Freedom's fires. Oh ! let the murd'rous tyrant's arm Fall powerless 'neath thine own, And every thunder of our bolts Be answered in thy tone. 'Tis sacrifices such as these That sanctify the earth That purge it from corrupting sin, And give thy glory birth. This soil of thine must never hold A captive nation's slaves, Nor fierce barbarians trample down, And riot o'er its graves. G 2 130 STAVES FOE THE HUMAN LADDEE. Father ! Almighty Father ! God Of heaven, of earth, and sea ! Make all the nations of the earth High-minded, noble, free ! Blast with the lightning of thy glance, And prostrate in the dust, The savage hordes whose conquests are But infamy and lust. Lo ! a light prophetic, rising From the bodies of the slain, Illumines far the battle-front, And lights the battle-plain The outward robe and veil it is Of spirits soaring high, As marching from the fatal field They travel to the sky. God, in thy mercy, bless their dust, And cherish long their fame, By blotting out the despot race The despot's power and name. Our sword, our shield, our fortress be, To victory lead the way, Or bury, in one bloody grave, The war- wolf and his prey. STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER, 131 THE VOICE OF JS T ATUKE. Go, and wander on the mountain, In the valley, by the rill ; Hear the forest roar its thunder, And the free bird sing at will ; Contemplate the changing seasons, And the gifts to earth they throw, Of the God who made them, singing, As they come, and as they go. Sitting down in sunny places, "With the fresh wind on your cheek, Let the holy voice of nature To your inmost spirit speak. In the blade, the leaf, the blossom, As in thinking man, we find, There are voices, there are beauties, For the ear and eye of Mind. 132 STATES FOB THE HUMAN LADDER. Oh ! ye dwellers of the city, Who in handicraft excel ; Who, with mighty heart and sinew, Work so bravely, work so well : Bringing from the world of matter Properties and wonders rare, Which the hand of Grod hath planted, For your searching wisdom, there : Is there nothing on the mountain, In the valley and the flower, Beyond what satisfieth For the pleasure of the hour ? No priceless treasure hidden, That hath power the heart to bless ? G-o, and ask those spirit-teachers, And their voice shall answer " Yes !" from jFannfa TO VISCOUNT GODERICH. MY LOBD, IN associating the name of your Lordship with these "Staves" from the Lathe of " Fancy," let me not be unmindful of the duty I owe alike to your Lordship, and myself, to state, that, in doing so, I am not yielding to a custom having no other recommendation than usage, but simply design to show my admiration of those noble qualities and that kindly spirit which appear to form so large and hopeful an element in your Lordship's character. With these feelings, I have the honour to be, Your Lordship's faithful Servant, THE AUTHOR. FAIE EIVEE. FAIB river, as thou glid'st along, In playful glee, with flowing song, And golden clouds reposing lie Eeflected in thy glassy eye I turn to meet the glance of one Who lately wandered near thy side Alas ! alas ! though bright, 'tis gone Death's waters now our hearts divide. 138 STAVES EBOM FANCY'S LADDER. Thy margin's flowers their rich hues wear, And fling their sweet breath on the air ; The wild bird through the livelong day Attunes to thee his cheerful lay I turn to press the hand of one Who lately wandered near thy side Alas 1 alas ! that hand is gone Death's waters now our hearts divide. At eve the lustrous stars come out, To hail thee with a far-off" shout, And spirit-breathings on the wind An echo in thy waters find I turn to hear the tones of one Who lately wandered near thy side Alas ! alas ! those tones are gone Death's waters now our hearts divide. STAVES FBOM FANCY'S LADDEB. 139 HIJEEAH FOE TWENTY-ONE! YOUTH, fresh youth, is a glorious time, When the spirit, free from care, Of its own bright strength can upward climb, Like the eagle poised in air. No passion or tumult swells the heart, Eife only with dreams of joy, Oh ! who in his soul would wish to part With the proud hopes of the boy ? Still, as the sands in Time's hour-glass run, And the first years glide away, He shouteth hurrah, for twenty-one ! Oh ! hasten the happy day ! Manhood, too, is a glorious time, And bringeth out mighty thought The spirit refuseth then to climb, Except as by wisdom taught. 140 STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDEB. Pure Love alights with its rainbow wings, And maketh the old seem new, While up to the mind's bright vision springs The work of a life to do. Still, as the sands in Time's hour-glass run, And the bright years glide away, He shouteth hurrah, for twenty-one ! And now is the happy day ! Age, old age, is a glorious time, When the storms of life are past, And the soul's barque nearing a brighter clime Anchors on Faith at last : Than in youth and manhood a clearer light Breaks in on the aged breast, When, dying, he biddeth the world " good night," And enters the port of rest. Still, as the sands in Time's hour-glass run, And the last years glide away, He shouteth hurrah, for twenty-one ! In memory of the day. STAVES FEOM! FANCY'S LADDEE. 141 THE HAVEN OF THEEE'S nothing half so dear to me, In all my native land, As the warm glance of friendship's eye, The clasp of friendship's hand ; For friendship is the only thing That outlives fortune's ray, And blesses, when all other joys Have changed or died away. 'Tis like the pitcher plant that blooms Within the desert wide, From which, when other sources fail, The cooling draught's supplied : And when misfortune's night sets in, And storms disturb the breast, The friendly heart affords at once A haven and a rest. 142 STAVES FBOM FANCY'S LADDEU. THE BOLD SEA WAVE. OH ! strong and brave is the bold sea wave, And free as the wingless wind ; With swelling tides o'er the deep it rides, And the white spray leaves behind : The sun goes down, and his kingly crown We cease for awhile to see, But the bold bright wave still tunes its stave In the deep ears of the sea. When the storm comes out and voices shout For help, o'er the gurgling main, Till the stars that gave their light to the wave Are frightened back again Then the bold wave's heard, like a wild sea-bird, Careering on its way, Till it gains the shore and raves the more, When its locks with rage turn grey. STAVES FROM FAlfCY's LADDER. 143 DEAEEE THAN EVEE. DEABEB than ever, hour by hour, Thy young heart's truth becomes to mine ; I would not, if I had the power, Dissolve the spell that makes me thine. So sweet a dream, to lull to rest The storms of passion, when they rise, Reflects, within the slumb'ring breast, The calm of unbeclouded skies. Oh ! oft with melting eyes I gaze, And feels my soul thy secret worth, Thou light of all my future days, And altar of my hopes on earth ! And when thy warm and blushing cheek Eecals the colour from mine own, I feel what lips can never speak, And none but faithful hearts have known ! 144 STAVES FEOM FANCY'S LADDER, THE COEAL CAYES. BOTJITD and round the coral bower Fairies dance the livelong day, Watchful, lest the water's power Bear some jutting reef away. Now they whisper, now they sing, To the laughter of the waves, As their welcome song they bring To the distant coral caves. See they enter, and prepare For the transports of the night ; Wreathing, in their shining hair, Coral branches snowy white Hark ! an echo, low and sweet, As they press the sleeping waves, Makes soft music to their feet, In the silent coral caves. THE COBAL GATES. 145 Once again their hands entwine, And the banquet being spread, Lo ! the white reef, stained with wine, Like a maiden blushes red. Now the festal rite is o'er, Day has peeped into the waves, And the fairies dance once more Bound about the coral caves. 146 STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDER. GLOBIOTJS PLANETS. G-LOBIOUS planets ! ye bright eyes of heaven, Clustering, like gems, on the calm breast of Even ; Te are the watchers of Night in its glory, The vespers that chime out its time-hallowed story. "Well might the ancient seers worship ye lowly, Cling to your beams with a faith deep and holy ; Where are the gifted who would not salute ye, Sing of your lustre, and honour your beauty ? Glorious planets ! unceasing in motion, The seaman takes heart when ye light up the ocean ; The traveller roaming through wilds rude and dreary, Espies your glad presence, and never grows weary. No time no event, your devotion estranges, Te note, but still heed not the world's silent changes. Clear is your course as the fast flowing river, Hymning the great song of nature for ever. STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDEB. 147 THE IGHGHT'S ADVEXTUKE. A SEBEXADE. " LOOK down, love, while the moonlit hours Best on the tranquil sea, And let thine eyes' expressive beams Sweet love-vows breathe to me ; While every star that shines above Bids fond hearts closer cling ; Look down, love, from thy lattice high, And hear thy true knight sing Oh ! come, dear Gertrude, come with me, To other climes away, And our two hearts shall beat as one Before the close of day. 148 STAVES FROM TASTCY'S LADDEB. Your sire is lacked in slumber deep, Around there breathes no tone ; Though danger, aye, and death I'd brave, To make you, love, my own. The only sound that breaks the calm These blissful moments bring, Is yonder watch-dog's fitful bark, Which mocks me while I sing- Oh ! come, dear Gertrude, come with me. To other climes away, And our two hearts shall beat as one Before the close of day." A maiden form the window nears ; (What more could knight require ?) He mounts the wall extends his arms, And in them folds her sire ! " Oh ! treachery !" he cries, and down He from the casement springs, Bounds to his steed, and gallops off, Nor once looks back but sings " Enough, dear madam, I'll be off, Before the break of day, And hang me, madam, if again I'm ever caught this way." STATES FROM FANCY'S LADDER. 14:9 TIME'S FAITH. ONCE Time and Death together sought A lowly peasant's clean fire-side, Where, bright as summer sunbeams, sat Three rosy boys, a mother's pride. Death paused enamoured of the smiles That on their features sweetly played, And rushed to strike the youngest one, His hand was on his quiver laid When Time, of golden promise full, Entreated him with words so fair, His hand relaxed, he turned aside, And fixed the fatal shaft elsewhere. Again Death sought that peasant's cot, And as the threshold he drew near, Strange sounds of grief and misery Struck, like a knell, upon his ear 150 STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDER, One little one complained of cold, One wept, and vainly asked for bread, The other, in his mother's lap, Had found a pillow for his head. "When this Death saw, and found that Time Had broken faith with each young breast, He wiped the flatt'ring record out, And laid their guiltless hearts to rest. STATES FfiOM FANCY'S LAUDEH. 151 BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS. BEAUTIFUL, beautiful, love-breathing flowers, Nursed by the spring in a cradle of showers ; Kissed by the bee, in the sun's golden light, And fondled by zephyrs the whole of the night ; While odours exhale from your delicate leaves, To soothe and to gladden the spirit that grieves ; As if, with an instinct of sympathy rare, Ye whispered of hope to the children of care. Beautiful, beautiful, love-breathing things, Cells where the fairies lie folding their wings ; Weareth the rainbow a mellowing hue That hath not been borrowed or stolen from you ? Beautiful gems of the glorious earth, How were ye fashioned, and when had ye birth ? 'Twas Eden, glad Eden, that smiled into flowers, When first rose the sun from his orient bowers ! STATES ruOM FANCY'S LAIXDER. ONE SMILE OF THINE. ONE smile of thine one parting smile, To cheer me on my lonely way, Ere all that should this heart beguile, Like summer blossoms, fades away. We ne'er, perchance, may meet again, Nor see the smile of bygone years, But lire in solitude and pain, Companioned by returning tears. One smile of thine if not too much To ask, ere we for aye do part ; Though that instinctive smile may touch The keenest fibres of my heart : Yet I the pang will gladly bear, If purchased by a smile of thine, For earth has not a face so fair As that which beameth now on mine. OXE SMILE OF THINE. 153 One smile of thine 'tis only one, And will not leave thee one the less, (When I from these bright scenes am gone,) To win a blessing or to bless. 'Tis done ! I thank thee, love, farewell ! The last connecting link is riven ; Xow, wheresoe'er my spirit dwell, That smile of thine shall be its heaven. H2 154 STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDER. THE MINSTKEL OLD AND GEET. AN aged minstrel sat him down Beneath the autumn sun, To wake a well-remembered theme, Ere life's last sands were run Feeble and palsied was his hand, His bare head silv'ry grey And thus, with trembling voice, and tears, He sang his plaintive lay : " Ah ! happy once this heart of mine, When youth's sun shone for me, And Hope's voice in a whisper came Replete with melody Life, life was then a holy thing, Smiles lit its every day" But here the minstrel's voice grew faint With " now I'm old and grey." THE MINSTREL OLD AND GEEY. 155 Again the minstrel struck his harp, To sing of manhood's days, When sweet thought tells how love has birth, But not how it decays Yet while, in mem'ry, to those hours His spirit seemed to stray, The chords he touched more plainly told That he was old and grey. Of Friendship's faith he would have sung, But strength began to fail, And chill winds beat around his brow, As though to hush the tale Of all who loved, not one remained To gladden life's lone way The harp fell from the minstrel's hand The minstrel old and grey. 156 STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDER. TAKE BACK THY GIFT. TAKE back the treasured gift at last, Thy gentle fingers placed in mine, Since it recals the happy past, When I was cheered by smiles of thine- Take back, take back the only gift From which my mem'ry ne'er shall part, For, ohl believe me, it has left A lasting impress on my heart. Take back, take back the fatal prize That will remind my heart of thee, And bid me love those gentle eyes Mine own, perhaps, no more may see. Whate'er my fate in after-years, Caressed or scathed by fortune's blast, My heart, a fount of unwept tears, Shall throb in silence to the last. STATES FKOiT FANCY'S LADDER. 157 THE LAST HOPE OF NOBAH. THE stars were keeping watch above When Xorah went, with grief anew, To end her short-lived day of love With that undying word, adieu ! She sat her down beside the stream, Where oft they'd met in warm embrace, And memory, in a sudden gleam, Brought back Hope's sunshine to her face. He came a smile was on his brow Her heart was torn with inward fear ; He knew that heart was hopeless now, And yet its prayer he would not hear. To richer maiden, far away, (A sordid spirit deemed more fair,) His restless thoughts e'en then would stray, Unmindful of her deep despair. 158 STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDER. The word was breathed the fatal word, Which still should linger in her ears Whatever feelings might be stirred Throughout her life's embittered years. With hasty step he trod the ground, She saw him, smiling still, depart, And each more distant footfall's sound Increased the void in Norah's heart. STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDER. 159 SUMMER GEMS. LOVELY, perfumed gems of summer, Blushing in the face of day, Drinking in, with lips of odour, Pleasure from each sunny ray : Know ye aught of joy, or sorrow ? Can your fibres thrill with pain, . That the light your beauty sheddeth, Perisheth from earth again ? Love's warm sunshine, gems of summer, Beameth on your parent bed, Tends you through life's changing stages, Mourneth o'er your leaves when dead : Children of a clime, whose glory Fadeth not with length of years, But restoreth us, in gladness, Those we parted from in tears. 160 STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDEK. LOVE THY SIEE, LITTLE ONE. LITTLE one, playful one, sweetener of life, Soother of sorrow, beguiler of strife Pair as the sunbeam and free as the wind, Buoyant and chainless thy spirit and mind : Love thy sire, little one climb on his knee Kiss him, caress him, his good angel be Love thy sire, little one, for he loves thee. Sorrows and trials await him each day Heady his heart oft to faint by the way Thou art his Oasis, cheering life's waste, Lead him on, smooth his path, ever thou mayst Love thy sire, little one climb on his knee Kiss him embrace him his good angel be Love thy sire, little one, for he loves thee. STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDEB. 161 WE MET AS OLD FKIEOTS. WE met, as old friends meet, to part, We parted iie'er to meet again, Sighs choked the utt'rance of each heart, And left it struggling with its pain. A red tinge gathered on the cheek, Then cold and pale as death it grew ; - Could tears for love and mem'ry speak, How easily we'd breathed adieu. We parted, as the autumn leaf, By night winds shaken from the bough ; Thy day of happiness was brief, And desolate my heart is now. One future still before us lies, To tread life's wilderness alone, And read the hopes in other eyes That once lent lustre to our own. 162 STAVES FROM FANCY'S L ADDED. OLD ARTHUR LOVED HIS LITTLE JANE. OLD Arthur loved his little Jane, A young and trusting child ; And she as truly clung to him, "With spirit undefiled. For ever would he sit and watch, When she was lost in play, And give his feelings vent in tears, To see her look so gay. In summer, when the garden plot Its cheerful verdure wore, She'd take the old man by the hand, And lead him to the door ; When winter came, and biting winds Blew down the old green lane, She'd run outside, and laugh at him, Beneath the window pane. OLD ARTHUB LOVED HIS LITTLE JAKE. 163 Too pure and innocent for earth Was that unconscious child Death, in a slow disease, came ou, She felt its touch, and smiled. The old man wept, and spoke to her Of spring's return again But, ere it came, her voice was gone From out the old green lane. 164 STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDER. HEE BASHFUL TEESSES SHUNNED THE WIND. HEE bashful tresses shunned the wind, "While sunbeams drank her lip's sweet dew, And every bough her path that lined, Bowed down to pay its homage too. The very flowers beneath her feet, Serenely nestling in the grass, Bent low their heads her form to greet, And hear her fairy footsteps pass. Resolved to heed no lover's strain, Each year sweet Ellen saw depart Some suitor, who had sought to gain An interest in her maiden heart ; Por neither youth nor wealth had power To fire her breast with passion's flame Yet suitors sighed and sued each hour, And Ellen's heart remained the same. HEE BASHFUL TBESSE8 SHUSHED THE WIND. 165 " My sire is old, and poor, and grey," Thus ever would the maid reply " And were I from him ta'en away, Oh ! he would break his heart, and die. My mother in her grave sleeps on, And I alone am left behind, To lighten, since all else is gone, The winter of the old man's mind !" 166 STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDEE. THE DOMESTIC WIFE. BY heaven, whose blessings fall alike In sunshine and in rain, The everlasting links were forged Of wedlock's golden chain : A flaw, concealed within the ore, May start in angry strife, But not the less a blessing is The fond domestic wife. Within her husband's mine of love Her world of joy she makes, And dearer that bright world becomes, When all beside forsakes : His household is an altar fair, With holy pleasure rife ; Oh ! happy he, whose priestess there Is a domestic wife. THE DOMESTIC WIFE. 167 Time's hand may scatter o'er the brow A trace of winter's snow, Or inward sorrow barely leave A cherished hope below ; But still her faith will struggle through Those darker hours of life, And cheer his heart, whose love enfolds A fond domestic wife. 168 STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDEB. MY BEAUTIFUL MY OWJS T . OH ! wherefore art thou gone away, My beautiful, my own ; Thy laughing eye sealed up in death, And hushed thy merry tone ? Wert thou too beautiful for earth, Or, in the realms of day, Did sister angels watch thee, love, That thou art gone away ? Thou wert a something in my heart That weaned it back from sin That oped its fleshly doors to let A glimpse of heaven in. Thou wert the sunshine of the hearth, The spirit-watcher there, That crowded it with holy thoughts, And tuned the soul to prayer. MT BEAUTIFUL MY OWN. 169 Oh ! wherefore art thou gone away, In thy life's opening spring, Like that sweet flower, that ere the eve Droops its head, withering ? Yet not in vain thy early death, My beautiful, my own, If but the voice of God I hear In thy remembered tone. 170 STAVES FBOM FANCY'S LADDER. THE OLD POETEAIT GALLEEY. LOOK, look, where they hang on the wainscoted walls, Mid the silence and gloom of these desolate halls ; Surrounded by mildew, and dust, and decay, Pit emblems of things that are passing away While a whisper, a footstep, the sound of a door, Wakes the echoes that sleep round the dark corridor And call to these old things now robbed of their prime As though they were ghosts of the vanished old time. Alas ! what strange havoc Time makes in his flight, What glories he hurls to the darkness of night, What relics are scattered what links cast aside, Of the loved, of the brave who have lived, who have died; As if in the cycle of ages till now, lie had wiped them away with the sweat from his brow Till the canvas that only lives on to the last Like a tablet is hung o'er the grave of the past. STAVES FEOM FAKCY's LADDER. 171 ASK FEOM ME NO IDLE VOW. ASK from me no idle vow Only faithless lovers swear If sincere and true art thou, Deem my motives then as fair. But if, with a winning tongue, Thou dost flatter to betray, As thy heart would do me wrong, So I'd cast that heart away. Oh ! as oft is woman's way, I might vow in words divine, But, were I inclined to stray, "Would that vow preserve me thine ? Trust me as thy love is pure, Doubt me when a change I see ; She, indeed, were doubly poor, Who, unloved, kept faith with thee. 172 STATES FROM FANCY'S LADDER. THE SUN AND THE FLOWERS. His Sunship one morn left his pillow at three, As thoughtful and grave as a monarch could be, For dreams of old Bacchus and fantasies light Had troubled his vision the whole of the night : When, casting a glance from his grey eastern bowers, To wake from their slumber the indolent Hours, His Sunship beheld what astonished his view The flowers getting drunk with the globules of dew. " So, so," thought his Sunship "thus much for your pains, I'll scorch you all up till no life-juice remains." Then he sent forth his beams, like the Simoom's hot breath, Till the flowers hung their heads, as if sinking in death ; But no sooner did Sol, in the cool evening, wane, Than these bacchanals turned to their orgies again ; And nightly, since then, like bold spirits and true, The flowers have got drunk with the globules of dew. STATES FROM FANCY'S LADDER. 173 THE EMPEESS OF THE SEA. OF all the lands whose lustrous fame Inspires the ardent breast, Old England has the brightest name By country e'er possessed : Her power goes forth where'er the sun Shines on the proudly free, And world-wide laurels she has won, As Empress of the Sea. Her love of honour, freedom true, Where'er her flag's unfurled, Has set a bright example to The nations of the world : Nor breathes the stranger to her shore, Whoever he may be, But hails Old England, as of yore, The Empress of the Sea. 174 STAVES FBOM FANCY'S LADDER. THE OLD, THE STJN-BUBNT MABINEB, THE old, the sun-burnt mariner, A hardy man was he, And two-score years and ten had toiled Upon the dang'rous sea And now his spirit yearned for home, To lay him down to sleep But the grave of the old mariner Was in the silent deep. The vessel homeward swiftly sped, But ere they reached the land, Pale death the brave old mariner Took gently by the hand. They lowered him to his ocean bed, All eyes were seen to weep ; For the grave of the old mariner Was in the silent deep. STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDER. 17-J AN ENGLISHMAN'S HOPE. THERE'S a hope deeply nursed in an Englishman's breast Firm and strong as the Lebanon tree That stands in the forest, its monarch confessed, True type of the grand and the free 'Tis the hope that his country her glory may shed O'er the page of historic renown, And the patriot deeds of her uuconquered dead To the future be long handed down. Long, long may this hope lead the valiant, the true, To uphold and extend England's fame, Till the forest and jungle shall shelter but few That have heard not the sound of her name ; For nations around her may totter and fall, Still the heart of Britannia shall beat, While millions unborn her past glories recal, As they prostrate themselves at her feet ! 176 STATES FBOId FANCY'S LADDEB. WHEN THEY TOLD ME HE HAD FLATTERED. WHEN they told me he had flattered, Had crushed other hearts before, I dismissed him from my bosom, Vowed he ne'er should see me more- But, ere long, a change came o'er me, When I saw his altered mien, And the world, half scornful, told me, I his spirit's curse had been. Since they chid his fancied weakness, And rebuked my woman's pride, I'll never heed the world's tale more, Whatever may betide. I know that purest love and truth, And hearts as warm as mine, Have oft been wronged and sacrificed At falsehood's hollow shrine. STAVES FBOM FANCY'S LADDEB. 177 THE MOONLIGHT ECHO. SWEET and truthful is the echo Heard in yonder vale, Oft at moonlit hour repeating Lovers' whispered tale ; Like a saucy cuckoo mocking Every little word, Growing fainter, as the last lay Of a dozing bird Comes at last the hour of parting To each happy breast. When into the briefest language Years of love are pressed. Echo then, a charmed list'ner, With a wild delight, .Startles glen, and wood, and valley, With its " Love, good night !" i2 178 STATES FROM FANCY'S LADDER. I SAW A BEIGHTEB EYE LAST NIGHT. I SAW a brighter eye last night Than I have seen for many a day, And even now its starzy light Around my spirit's path doth play : It seemed to breathe some magic theme, Whose gentle truth the heart might move, As it had watched an angel dream, And ta'en that dream for earthly love. 'Twas not th' expression of that eye, Nor yet its soft reflective hue ; My heart, perhaps, had passed these by, If niem'ry could have passed them, too : But oh ! a charm beyond the power Of human language e'er to tell, And every moment seems an hour Unless I in its presence dwell. STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDER. LOVE AND KINDNESS. O, love and kindness, gentle theme ! What other words have equal power O'er time and life, to make them seem But as the wings of one sweet hour ? What other words can soothe the breast, Or bid it swell with fond desire, Till thoughts and feelings unexpressed In tranquil happiness expire ? A word of kindness, like the sun Warm shining on a wintry day, With fervid breath melts, one by one, The snows of hearts grown cold away While Love, as 'twere an angel sent To breathe of the returning spring, Smiles down from Heaven's own firmament And bids us to each other cling. 180 STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDEE. MY HEAET IS BANKRUPT. MY heart is bankrupt day by day, Some cherished object sees decay, While Mem'ry more tenacious clings, As Time bears down Hope's failing wings. No future joy can e'er atone For friendships dead, and pleasures flown, When clouds that gather o'er life's sky But leave the springs of passion dry. There is a grief will waste away, Though all around look calm and gay ; There is a fever of the heart, That only may with life depart : As fades the leaf, when autumn's blast Proclaims the summer hours are past, So droops the heart when Mem'ry's tread Disturbs the leaves of fond hopes dead. STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDEB. 181 THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES. THE old familiar faces ! 0, how oft they meet and mingle Come and fill their well-known places By the bedside and the ingle. When the long, dark evenings gather O'er the leaf-strewn earth, benighted Brother, sister, mother, father, Come unbidden uninvited Then the old familiar faces Come and fill their well-known places. When, attuned by Mem'ry's fingers, Melodies of old times greet us, And the heart, arrested, lingers Where glad smiles were wont to meet us, 182 STATES FROM FANCY'S LADDER. Listening for the words of kindness "Words of sympathy and gladness Meant to cure our every blindness Soothe us in the hour of sadness ; Then the old familiar faces Come and fill their well-known places. When upon some faded token, That recalleth days departed Hope's sweet blossoms crushed and broken- Graze we, till the tear has started ; Clad in their immortal beauty Spirit-visitants from heaven, To remind us of our duty Rivet links that Time has riven ; Then the old familiar faces Come and fill their well-known places. When, of those whom death has taken, And for whom our love is yearning, Silent, holy thoughts awaken Wishing but for their returning And the hearth is cold and dreary, And the vacant chair beside it Makes the mourner's heart grow weary Of the fate that does betide it ; Then the old familiar faces Come" and fill their well-known places. THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES. 183 When, in prayer, devoutly kneeling, And the household world without us, Answ'ring to the heart's revealing, Seems like paradise about us ; And the voice of supplication For a moment does restore us To each friend each dear relation, Who has passed away before us ; Then the old familiar faces Come and fill their well-known places. The old familiar faces ! Erased from memory never, Come and fill their well-known places Dwell with us, unseen, for ever. From our gaze they may have perished Parent, child, and good adviser. But the love in life they cherished Stays to bless and make us wiser So the old familiar faces Come and fill their well-known places. 184 STAVES FROM FANCY'S LADDEB. LIZZY LEE. OH ! not with scornful, clouded face, In which but angry thoughts I trace ; Nor yet with cold and silent mien, In which mistrust and doubt are seen ; Nor yet with smiles that seem to say, And answer, " Yes" while meaning " Nay ;" Look thou upon me, Lizzy Lee, Lest I should be the same to thee. But with a love so true and warm, Each angry thought it shall disarm ; "With eyes so clear, and full of mirth, That they shall look like stars on earth ; With tones so full of tenderness, My heart may never love thine less Cling thus unto me, Lizzy Lee, And I will be the same to thee. from 3amb r j5 i v alikr. TO JOHN JAMES HARRISON, ESQ. MY DEAB SlE, ENCOTJBAGED by your good opinion, and cheered by your genial sympathy, I venture to lay these sacred "Staves" on the altar of that "personal friendship," in the remembrance of which I feel both flattered and grateful. Wishing you and yours a safe ascent up the golden "ladder" of life, I subscribe myself, Tours, ever sincerely, THE AUTHOR. Jbhtmttj IDjriri Xo. I. THE OFFERING. 1 Samuel, i. FOKTH on her holy embassy, With placid brow and fair, To dedicate her child she went Tip to the house of prayer ; For she, in darker, childless hours, Her spirit out had poured, And vowed the answer to her cry She'd offer to the Lord. 190 STAVES FBOM JACOB'S LADDEB, His little hand in hers was placed, And running by her side, She knew a holy charge he was, And felt a mother's pride. But little of the journey long, Or scenes before them spread, Did Hannah reck enough for her That they to Zion led. And now, the hallowed Temple gained, With joy-betokening tears, She asks a blessing on her gift, And God in secret hears. " Farewell ! my first, my only one" She looks, but cannot say, And with a patient spirit treads Her lonely homeward way. SABBATH LTEICS. No. 2. JOSEPH. Genesis, xlv. SAT, does he live, that aged one My yearning eyes have longed to see, And have ye come at his command, My brethren, to buy corn of me ? Why shrink ye back ? Why stand aghast ? Why wonder at my falling tears ? Is't that ye hear the old man's voice Appealing to your guilty fears ? How does the old man, is he well, My sire of unforgotten days ? My heart misgives, or 'twould recal His kindness in a thousand ways. Come nearer, I am Joseph still, And not the outcast whom ye sold ; My heart is still with Israel, In spite of Egypt's crown and gold. 192 STAVES FROM JACOB'S LADDER. Regret not that ye drove me thence, The hand of Providence was near, And led me, in your day of want, To find a harvest for you here ; That Israel's grief, and Israel's need, Obedient to the chast'ning rod, Might prove they cannot trust in vain, Whose only faith is fixed on God. * SABBATH LTEICS. 193 No. 3. DAUGHTEES OP THE HOLY CITY. St. Luke, xiiii. DAUGHTEES of the Holy City, Standing by your Saviour's side, Cease the voice of lamentation, Check the gush of sorrow's tide ! Here I lay aside the burden, Freely borne Daughters of the Holy City, Cease to mourn ! Daughters of the Holy City, Evil days are coming fast, When the cry of deepest anguish Shall be heard above the blast ! For yourselves and children sorrow- Not for me ; Daughters of the Holy City, "Woe to ye ! R 194 STATES FBOM JACOB'S LADDER. No. 4. "BE NOT AFEAID; 'TIS I." Matthew, xiv. BE not afraid, 'tis I Who walk the mighty deep Who bid the storm pass by, And rock the waves to sleep : Though mountain billows swell, And thunders shake the sky, A breath of mine can quell Be not afraid, 'tis I. Be not afraid, 'tis I ! And have ye aught to fear ? Can danger e'er be nigh, And God, too, not be near ? "O ye of little faith!" Who raise the feeble cry To Him, who ever saith Be not afraid, 'tis I ! SABBATH LTBIC8. 195 No. 5." THOIJ, GOD, SEEST ME." Genesis, rvi. LOBD, thou art ever present ; In waking hours or sleep, Thy spirit doth its vigils Around me ever keep. Each thought that lives in secret Is fully known to thee ; Oh ! may I then remember That thou, God, seest me. Lord, thou art ever present, For thou art everywhere ; The mountain is thy dwelling In ocean's depths thou'rt there. Beyond the distant planets, Where thought can farthest flee, Unseen thou movest and dwellest, Thine eye still fixed on me. 19(5 STATES FEOM JACOB'S LADDER. Lord, thou art ever present To succour and console, To cheer the heavenward pilgrim And guide him to life's goal ; Beset by griefs and tempests, His refuge is in Thee ; Oh ! may I then remember That thou, God, seest me. SABBATU LYRICS. 197 No. 6." THE LIVING FOUNTAIN." PUREB than Siloam's waters, Or Bethesda's troubled tide, Is the stream that ever floweth Freely from the Saviour's side. Crimsoned though the mighty torrent, Let afflicted mortals know, It can still revive the drooping, Wash the vilest white as snow. Love it was unsealed that fountain, Mercy 'twas sent forth the stream, AVhen on Calv'ry man's redemption Swelled the angels' lofty theme. Flowing still, it ceaseth never, Cleansing still, it ne'er shall cease, Till the farthest, rudest nations Eise and bless the Prince of Peace. fthnmtara mj0 for tjrt Jkhtmtlj, No. 1. AEAEAT. Genesis, ix. 13. WHEN the terrible wrath of Jehovah came down, And deluge and darkness swept over the earth, When the last race of man saw the Holy One frown, And wash out the records that told of his birth ; Thou, Ararat, lifting thy broad peak on high, Looked over the scene as in ruin it lay, And felt not the hand of destruction was nigh, Though all else beside thee was hurled to decay. MOUNTAIN LAYS FOE THE SABBATH. 199 Upborne by the merciful arm of the Lord, The ark from its hiding place rose with the deep, As the torrents were chafed with the thunders that roared, Till it rested on thee, like a giant asleep. Then the dove plumed her wing, and the fierce waters ran I^rom the earth, as it lay in its desolate shroud, While shone forth the promise from Maker to man, And God fixed his covenant Bow in the cloud. STATES FEOM JACOB'S LADDER. No. 2. SINAI. Exodus, xix. 20. JEHOVAH spake from Sinai, In tones like thunder heard, And the awe-stricken multitude Shrank trembling at His word. The glory that enwrapt it then Has never since been seen by men. Moses, the man of Grod, alone, With reverent step drew nigh, And pierced the cloud that darkly veiled His awful majesty. No form, no feature, Moses saw, Yet God himself 'twas gave the law. MOUNTAIN LAYS FOE THE SABBATH. No. 3. ZION. 1 Kings, viii. DBAW near to Zion's holy hill, Where Alpha's temple stands, And in majestic awe looks down Upon the fertile lands. There, God his habitation makes Amongst the sons of men, And waiteth for the meanest ones Who seek his love again. In silence did that structure rise Above the busy earth, And sacred joy and solemn fear Closed o'er the voice of mirth. One other Zion, nobler still, With constant praise doth ring- The everlasting throne and rest Of heaven's Eternal King. 202 STAVES FROM JACOB'S LADDEE. No. 4. HOEEB. 1 Kings, xix. ELIJAH was standing at Horeb's cave, Whither he hastened, his life to save, And the might of the Lord went past. Fiercely the wind swept to and fro Fiercely the earthquake heaved below Fiercer the scorching fiery glow Yet God was not in these signs of woe, When the might of the Lord went past. On the mount of God, when ceased the ire Of the earthquake, whirlwind, and the fire The might of the Lord went past. A whispering, " still small voice" drew near, And smote the prophet's aged ear : Elijah knew the voice of God, And hid him in his lone abode, While the might of the Lord went past. MOUNTAIN LAYS FOE THE SABBATH. 203 No. 5. TABOR. Matthew, xvii. THE glory of the Lord came down, In floods intensely bright, And Jesus stood on Tabor's top, As on a throne of light. His face outshone the noon-day sun, His robe was white as snow The majesty of God revealed In a celestial glow. The glory of the Lord came down, And Peter, James, and John, Saw Moses and Elias stand With the Incarnate One. And lo ! a voice descended there, But answer made was none, For he whose brightness dazzled thus, Himself was God and Son. 204 STATES PROM JACOB'S LADDEll. 6. CALVAEY. Mark, xv. CALVARY, scene of the Saviour's last moments, Stained with the life-blood that gushed from his side, When, midst the terrors of nature's convulsions, Bowing his head, he triumphantly died ; Stand thou for ever the altar unshaken, Where mercy and love, in a lasting embrace, Dispersed the night-shadows of bondage and error, And set up the sunshine of Grod in its place. Down, from the moment of Adam's transgression Down, from the curse of the fratricide Cain Hope, up to thee led the children of sorrow, That hope shall the last of the fallen sustain. Loud though the thunders, and vivid the lightnings, That woke e'en the dead, when He " gave up the ghost" That cry "It is finished!" as music ascended, And struck on the harps of the heavenly host. STAVES FBOM JACOB'S LADDER. 205 BELSHAZZAE'S FEAST. HIGH on the throne of Babylon, In gorgeous pomp and pride, Belshazzar sat amidst the guests Assembled at his side. By dainty hands, with royal taste, The banquet had been spread, And costly treasures, blazing round, Their lustre on it shed. " Bring forth the vessels of the Lord !' He impiously cried To pledge in them the idol gods His hand had deified ; " What ho ! the vessels !" once again That king was heard to call, When lo ! with mystic characters A finger traced the wall. 206 STAVES FROM JACOB'S LADDEB. In vain the famed Chaldean's skill, The captive Daniel, he Alone could make their purport known, And utter the decree. The stricken monarch heard the doom Of empire, pride, and lust, And God that night his angel sent, And laid them in the dust. STAVES FEOM JACOB'S LADDEB. 207 THOU ART THE MAN!" KING DAVID sat on his lofty throne, And bent his royal ear, The prophet's voice, in a parable, "With reverence to hear ; While Nathan told how a ruthless hand Had laid a bosom bare, And carried away the tender lamb That once was sheltered there. Uprose the king from his cushioned seat, With stern, indignant eye, And vowed, by the honour of his throne, That guilty one should die ; But down he sank, with a stifled groan, And features ghastly wan, When the prophet raised his solemn voice, And said " Thou art the man !" Date Due PRINTED IN U.S.A. CAT. NO. 24 161 A 000 686 227 o