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CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tiiis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013514512 
 
POEMS 
 
 soisriNrETS, Ha-^-iRxcis, 
 
 AND 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 E.^ BLACKADDER. 
 
 HALIFAX : 
 
 NOVA SCOTIA PRINTINO COMPANY. 
 1895. 
 
 T /I 
 
INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Proem : To My Friends 1 
 
 Sonnets : 
 
 Auxiliuin Ab Alto 2 
 
 A Kous Fallacy ? 
 
 On a Certain Proverb 3 
 
 From " The Look Off" 3 
 
 From Partridge Island 4 
 
 Annapolis Royal i 
 
 Father Damien 5 
 
 On Death of Sir John McDonald] 5 
 
 To Pastor FeUx 6 
 
 The Fathers of Acadia College 6 
 
 SheUey 7 
 
 Keats 7 
 
 To H. S. Davison 8 
 
 Lines on Seeing a Pretty Little Deaf Mute on Train 8 
 
 A Character 9 
 
 On Completing Perusal of " The Faerie Queene " 9 
 
 On Finding in a Old Well, a Ball lost many years before, . . 19 
 
 On Attaining my Twenty -third Year 10 
 
 On Re-visiting Spinney's OldMill 11 
 
 Education and the Hiunan Mind 11 
 
 Lybical Pieces : 
 
 Hymn to the Sun 12 
 
 Nature Praises God U 
 
 Sing me a Song To-day 15 
 
 To the Gaspereaux 16 
 
 Loved and Lost 17 
 
 "While yet thy Heart was True to Me 17 
 
 I Wander To-day 18 
 
 Parting— Sung at our College Closing, in June, 1894 19 
 
 At my Sister's Grave 20. 
 
 Miscellaneous Poems : 
 
 The Doom of the God's 21 
 
 Life's Charm Flown 32 
 
I=I^OE13ivd:. 
 
 TO MY FRIENDS. 
 
 (^TNEAE FEIENDS, herein the fruits of many an 
 \J hour, — 
 
 Haply far wiser spent, — behold, I lay 
 Before you as a tribute ! and would say, 
 Lo ! these were plucked what time the Muse's power 
 Brought back to me, — a not unwelcome dower, — 
 The many-featured memories of the past ; 
 And too, the spoil of passing moments cast 
 On me in many a sweet and saddening shower. 
 
 Grant, then, oh Muses, thy weak child to make 
 Worthy the offering of these lispM lines. 
 
 Wrought in bright times when joys were all awake, 
 Or when the gloom of life the soul confines 
 
 Sad as the moonbeams on a silent lake. 
 Deep forested in darkly shadowing pines. 
 
3 
 
 onnets. 
 
 AUXILIUM AB ALTO. 
 
 I SAW, in visioned sleep, a mortal tread 
 
 Upon a narrow islet midway placed 
 
 Within a grim abyss, where might be traced 
 The surge of sulphury flames and smoke that spread 
 Up-blown in volumes vast. All pale with dread 
 
 He found his footing lessen more and more ; 
 
 When, lo ! a sunburst from the clouds high o'er 
 Streamed down, and in its midst a golden thread. 
 
 He gazed, beheld and grasped, and from my view 
 Ascended to those opening realms of light. 
 
 The Isle was Earthly Hope ; the Abyss that grew 
 Destroying it, Despair, the unfailing blight 
 
 Of joys terrene ; the Golden Cord that drew 
 
 To safety was Christ's Love, vouchsafed in sorrow's 
 night. 
 
 A PIOUS FALLACY. 
 
 It gives small praise to God to call mankind 
 A worm, or such, expressing littleness, 
 Disparaging His own workmanship's impress. 
 
 It is poor praise to say the Eternal Mind 
 
 Holds empire over beings scarce designed 
 Above non-entity ; for true it stands 
 To laud the structure from the builder's hands 
 
 Is to applaud the builder ; for we find 
 
 The glories of created things reveal 
 
 Their maker's greatness. Then what tongue can say 
 Man is so mean, and yet in conscience feel 
 
 'Tis honoring God ? Saith not the Sacred Lay, 
 " Fearful and wonderful thy Maker's seal 
 
 Is set upon thy framing, child of clay ?" 
 
POEMS : SONNETS. 
 
 ON A CERTAIN PROVERB. 
 
 There is a saying which, though meant for good, 
 Is so expressed to give impressions wrong : 
 That " all things come to him who waiteth long." 
 
 A proverb making most delicious food 
 
 For the dulled palates of the laggard brood. 
 Or for the ill-rewarded 'tis a song 
 That dims despair, though only to prolong ; 
 
 But for ambition 'tis a stumbling wood. 
 
 Wait not beside Life's swift, storm-tortured river 
 For waves to fall or currents to subside, 
 Or magic bark to bear thee swiftly o'er ! 
 Plunge in the torrent's rage, nor fearful shiver ! 
 Buffet the billows ! on the surges ride ! 
 
 Turn not nor pause and thou hast gained the shore. 
 
 FROM "THE LOOK OFF." 
 
 I STOOD upon the mountain's towering brow, 
 And viewed beneath, around, a scene sublime 
 Unmatched beneath the sun in any clime : 
 
 Westward for many a league, the vale below 
 
 Lay in its loveliness, and in the show 
 
 Of town, and stream, and wooil, and meadows green, 
 Afar extended till the wondrous scene 
 
 Was lost in splendours of the sunset glow. 
 
 A hamlet at my feet ; and eastward wide 
 
 Spread the wild waters o'er their shifting sand ; 
 
 Where many a white sail passing I descried, 
 That silent glided to some distant strand ; 
 
 Then straight my spirit thrilled with conscious pride 
 That all this beauty was my native land. 
 
POEMS : SONNETS. 
 
 FROM PARTRIDGE ISLAND. 
 
 Geand as the scene that on the Patmian shore 
 Eose on the vision of the Sainted Seer, 
 Was that : Below expanded far and near 
 
 The majesty of waters ; southward o'er 
 
 The billows, Bloniidon dark looming bore 
 
 His shroud of mist ; and where the surges sweep 
 Westward, steep frowned defiance unto steep. 
 
 While Fundy's floods fierce intervening roar. 
 
 Ships, there, full sailed or anchored in the shade 
 Of promontory high or verdured isle, 
 
 Told of emprizo and nation-building trade 
 
 Which bids with bloom the arid desert smile ; 
 
 And over all, the westering day star played 
 W^ith shafts of mellow radiance the while. 
 
 ANNAPOLIS ROYAL. 
 
 A stranger here within' this ancient town, — 
 Long time agone the rising hope of France, 
 The seed of future empire, — as in trance 
 
 'Mid storied scenes I wander up and down : 
 
 Here rise the grass-grown walls which bore the frown 
 Of death-disgorging cannon long ago, 
 And wide the gleaming basin spreads below, 
 
 Where thunder-bearing ships no more are known. 
 
 Yea, Death hath reaped his harvest in this place. 
 Along these shores have hundreds bled and died 
 To save this jewel for the Gallic crown. 
 
 But Fate ordained it for another race ; 
 
 The sturdy Saxon tills yon meadows wide ; 
 Peace rules o'er all ; War's trumpet sleeps unblown. 
 
POEMS : SONNETS. 
 
 FATHER DAMIEN, THE LEPER PRIEST 
 OP MOLOKOI. 
 
 Oft had I read, in annals of the past, 
 
 Of heaviest sacrifice for Jesus' cause 
 
 Made joyfully, and by accursed laws 
 How many a glorious martyr breathed his last, 
 Rejoicing that his humble life was cast 
 
 An offering on Faith's Altar ; — and I said, 
 
 " Alas ! faith is grown dim and fervour dead ! 
 If asked to die for Christ, men stand aghast !" 
 
 But when, unknown to me before, I heard, 
 Oh sainted Damien, thy now hallowed name, 
 
 And when across the broad Pacific, word 
 
 Was borne that thou the martyr's crown didst claim 
 
 Fronting a horrid death to serve thy Lord 
 
 And suffering race, I said, " undimmed is still the 
 flame !" 
 
 ON THE DEATH OP SIR JOHN McDONALD. 
 
 The brightest planet of our northern sky. 
 In the undimmed effulgence of its ray, — 
 Ourcountry'sguidetlirough calm and tempest play, - 
 
 Is quenched in night. Oh ! may no patriot eye 
 
 Remain, oblivious of that greatness, dry ! 
 If for his monument you'd search, survey 
 Stretching a thousand western leagues away 
 
 A youthful nation in its vastness lie. 
 
 Among the foremost ever foremost, he. 
 
 Surpassing others, knit the band which bound 
 
 Kingdom-wide provinces, from sea to sea 
 Into one giant realm. Then bid resound 
 
 His praise, posterity, and let him be 
 Father of Canada forever crowned. 
 2 
 
POEMS : SONNETS. 
 
 TO PASTOR FELIX. 
 
 Thou gentle singer of soul-touching strains, 
 A dreamful sweetness born of thy strong love 
 Of beauty or of mountain, field or grove 
 
 Or home remembrances, the mind retains 
 
 That reads thy page ; and of thy native plains 
 The breath fans round him and his feelings roam 
 In yearning back to his Acadian home, 
 
 The sunlit bays, green vales and shady lanes. 
 
 Such with the wanderer ; but whom thy muse 
 Charms here at home, feel in their bosoms rise 
 
 An inspiration which can but infuse 
 A new afi'ection for their native skies ; 
 
 And future times and men shall not refuse 
 To know thee in Acadia's destinies. 
 
 THE FATHERS OF ACADIA COLLEGE. 
 
 Op old, when Glory knew no other clime 
 
 Than her own Hellas, beauteous legends told 
 How many a spirit of heroic mould. 
 
 Bursting the bounds of clay and human time, 
 
 Soared upward and within the heavens sublime 
 Blazed forth a constellation new enrolled 
 On the celestial page, and shed the gold 
 
 Of brighter beams than in their mortal prime. 
 
 E'en so in sooth of that heroic band 
 
 May be declared, who with no selfish aim, 
 But with pure love obeying the command, 
 " Let there be light !" reared in the sacred name 
 Of Learning, that beloved and structure grand, 
 Our own Acadia of hallowed fame. 
 
POEMS : SONNETS. 
 
 SHELLEY. 
 
 A SORROW dims my spirit when I gaze 
 On ocean, wakened, answering the roar 
 Of rage-winged whirlwinds in their stormy war 
 
 Smiting his form through all its winding ways. 
 
 For the stern scenes within my mind upraise 
 Thoughts of His doom who sang the Titan free, 
 In strains of more than Heaven-wrought harmony. 
 
 Wild crossed the billows in their angry maze 
 
 In Spezzia's Bay, that hour, when not afar 
 
 From shore and friends, the faithlessbark wentdown; 
 
 And in dim caverns deep below the jar 
 
 Of surface thunders, cold and pale was thrown 
 
 The grandest treasure that the ocean floor 
 
 Upon its full-gemmed bosom ever wore. 
 
 KEATS. 
 
 Lush-throated songster, how our spirits rise 
 And languish, as thy mild, melodious muse 
 Pours forth her sweetness in a tide profuse : 
 
 Ode, epic, sonnet and symphonious sighs ! 
 
 But Death, that jealous tyrant, he who tries 
 
 All beauteous things, haled thee to his dark tower 
 Ere life had fairly budded to full flower, 
 
 Hushing thy high-harped, heavenly harmonies. 
 
 Alas ! those strains, which to thy hopes, were sung 
 To greet the blushes of the orient flow, 
 
 Proved the swan's note, and sadly, grandly rung 
 A dirge to thy life's planet sinking low 
 
 In mists, which gorgeous form its splendours, hung 
 Eound the down-drooping with unfading glow. 
 
POEMS : SONNETS. 
 
 TO H. 8. DAVISON. 
 
 "Amid donum caeli sunt." Of old 
 
 So wrote the Roman. 'Tis a noble thought, 
 And true as noble : It has been my lot 
 
 To feel upon this earth, so grand and cold, 
 
 The glow divine true friendship doth unfold. 
 Fast friends were we in childhood's golden time, 
 Fast friends while youth was budding to the prime 
 
 Of manhood, and no cloud hath ever rolled 
 
 Of enmity between us. Generous heart, 
 A Christian kindness and a spirit pure. 
 An energy that ever gains its end, 
 
 Will strong, a mind wherein no trifling part 
 Of genius hath its dwelling-place secure. 
 These are the proud possession of my friend. 
 
 LINES 
 
 WRITTEN ON SEEING A VERY PRETTY LITTLE DEAF AND DUMB 
 GIRL IN THE TRAIN. 
 
 Sweet child with fairy form and angel face, 
 I see thy dark eyes flash on all around 
 "With keen inquiry ; then, new interest found. 
 
 Thy iglance is turned upon the flying trace 
 
 Of ever varying landscapes as they race 
 
 With swift retreat beyond the vision's bound. 
 Intense thy gaze and thy delight profound. 
 
 But ah ! — those sweet slips may not part to praise. 
 
 Sunshine is for thee, and the flowers bloom 
 In ever gorgeous tint to please thy sight ; 
 Brooks, woods and fields, moon, stars and azure sky 
 
 Can charm, but Nature's voices all are dumb : 
 For thee no song-birds warble, day and night 
 One deathless silence hold, tongueless the vears roll 
 
 by- 
 
POEMS : SONNETS. 
 
 A CHARACTER. 
 
 Smile-flashing eyes within, whose azure deeps 
 Lie worlds of most enchanting innocence ; 
 The snow-pure brow, the sanguine lips intense 
 
 Where every love his rosy mansion keeps ; 
 
 The cheek of peach whereon a cupid peeps 
 From 's dimple fortress, and the dainty chin 
 A lush pomogranate ; framing all within, 
 
 The halo of her golden tresses sweeps. 
 
 My love hath all of these, but they by far 
 The least of her possessions constitute. 
 And are no fosterers of vanity. 
 
 Heart gentle, .soul as pure as sunbeams are, 
 
 Mind for whose beauty angels might dispute. 
 These, only these are prized, sweet one, by thee. 
 
 ON COMPLETING THE PERUSAL OF 
 "THE FJERIE QUEENE." 
 
 As one whose soul by day is rent with care, 
 At night is by a golden-winged dream 
 "Wafted on high where rolls the limpid Stream 
 
 Of Life, and God his flaming throne doth rear 
 
 'Mid beauty's blinding brightness, and the air 
 Sweet palpitates with many a 'trancing note 
 From soulful harps by angel fingers smote. 
 
 And ah ! the dreamer wakes and earth is there ; 
 
 E'en so it fares with me who late have trod 
 Entrancedly along the daedal ways 
 Of the honied paradise of Faerie Clime : 
 
 Cares were forgot, at rest was sorrow's rod, 
 All sadness lost within that rainbow maze ; 
 And now, — the earth is here and human time. 
 
10 POEMS : SONNETS. 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 ON FINDING, IN AN OLD WELL, A BALL WHICH I HAD LOST 
 MANY YEARS BEFORE. 
 
 Joy of my youth, and source of many a tear 
 In being lost, I have recovered thee 
 That wert unseen so long that memory 
 
 Had banished thee from her protecting care. 
 
 But now thy form recalls the day, the year, — 
 That summer day, — when joyous o'er the lea 
 I playing ran, thou stolest my joy from me 
 
 By vanishing adown yon darksome lair. 
 
 To-day I find thee after years have fled, 
 And all my sorrow for thy loss forgot ; 
 
 Too late, such joys as thine have long been dead ! 
 Thou bring'st sad proof how wishes come to nought; 
 
 We longing wish for joys with childhood sped, 
 Which, once returned, would fit no more our lot. 
 
 ON ATTAINING MY TWENTY-THIRD YEAR. 
 
 Thou hast been more profuse, pauseless Time, 
 In years than deeds ; but still I blame thee not ; 
 Rather myself I blame because my lot 
 
 Hath not been worthy of the ripening prime ; 
 
 For I've neglected thy bestirring chime 
 
 That urged me to the toil of deeds unwrought 
 Waiting innumerable my hand. God wot 
 
 My soul is heavy with inaction's slime ! 
 
 But will my sorrow teach me in the years 
 
 Unborn, to act a grander, nobler part. 
 
 And bring forth fruit meet for the season's bloom ? 
 If it be so, in spite of all my fears. 
 
 Those hours which heedless passed, troubled heart, 
 
 Have still in life been worthv of their room. 
 
POEMS : SONNETS. 11 
 
 ON RE-VISITING SPINNEY'S OLD MILL. 
 
 I sought to-day an old haunt of my youth, 
 Where an old mill had fallen to decay. 
 Leaving some vestige of its happier day : 
 
 The crumbling dam, the wheel without a tooth, 
 
 The pond with lilies laden, silvery soiooth. 
 The timber raft whereon we'd often play, 
 Twain apple trees, huge, gnarled, with mosses gray, 
 
 And circling all, a gloomy forest growth. 
 
 To-day the place once more mine eyes beheld. 
 
 But ruthless Change had placed his blight on all : 
 The dam was there more ruined , where the pond 
 
 Once gleamed, a growth of verdant flags upswelled ; 
 The raft was stranded, rotting ; stead the pall 
 Of ancient woods, smiled fields of grain around. 
 
 EDUCATION AND THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 There lies a land beneath a tropic sky. 
 
 Where the sweet sunlight, pouring ever down, 
 Is but a curse and withers bare and brown 
 
 The land into a desert where the eye 
 
 May wander league on league nor yet descry 
 A blade of grass, or tree, or blossom grow ; 
 While bare inid blasted sleeps the soil below, 
 
 Its fertile bosom blistered all and dry. 
 
 But in due season, swollen by the fall 
 
 Of rains on th' Abyssinian mountains far. 
 
 The jl^ile his kindly wave spreads over all. 
 And grain and fairest flowers blooming are. 
 
 That land's the Human Mind untilled and rude. 
 
 And Education the Nilotic flood. 
 
Qrical ^ 
 
 leoes. 
 
 HYMN TO THE SUN. 
 
 Life-giving orb, that from the gates of morn 
 
 Risest, ami with thine arrows of keen light 
 
 Dost vanquish darkness, and, — when odorous eve 
 
 Spreads 'round her dewy charms, — in vapors clothed 
 
 Of hues so gorgeous that they seem to be 
 
 Caught from the heavenly portals, sink'st to rest, 
 
 To thee I sing. Who would not sing of thee ? 
 
 Well wert thou known to primal man as God : 
 
 Life is thy gift, by thee the meadows smile, 
 
 All song is of thee and the vermeil rose 
 
 Thy beams have dyed ; and can a god do more ? 
 
 A God made then. Loud sang the heavenly choirs 
 
 Chanting His praise, when, from the centre hurled, 
 
 The planets circled thee, and from the dense 
 
 Primaeval mists thou earnest forth and shone. 
 
 And through the untrodden fields of boundless space. 
 
 In chorus singing with thy wheeling worlds 
 
 Passed with the speed of thought. But oh ! how long ! 
 
 What myriad upon myriad ages fled, 
 
 Ere yet upon the earth, thy fruitful beams 
 
 With heat and light impregnated the seed 
 
 Still lifeless hidden in its womd terrene. 
 
 And Life, unfathomed, mystic, wonderful, 
 
 Appeared to glorify and bless thy ray 
 
 Rewarding. Then, as aeons rolled along, 
 
 Thy splendours hut the course of monsters dread 
 
 Did light through deeps tempestuous, till man, — 
 
 Formed in the image of thy God, Sun, — 
 
 Was born to empire of ihe moving world ; 
 
POEMS : LYRICS. 13 
 
 And gazing on thee, mindful of thy gifts, 
 
 Soon he forgot his Maker and to thoe 
 
 Bowed worshipping ; and straight thou wert a god 
 
 With glittering shafts, upon the shadowy race 
 
 Waging wide warfare in a varied name : 
 
 Hyperion lirst upon his orb of fire 
 
 Flamed 'round the world ; then later fancy saw 
 
 Apollo in his goldeu chariot urge 
 
 His steeds, which trampled on the viewless winds, 
 
 Across the fields of blue. 
 
 Sun, thou hast gazed 
 On rising empires, seen the earth stand pale 
 Before their march resistless, then beheld 
 Grim Desolation smiling o'er their ruins. 
 But thou art as of old, in splend'rous guise 
 Wheeling thy mighty circuit, giving life 
 To forms innumerable, and in thyself 
 Art truest symbol of eternity. 
 
 How like advancing ocean, Time rolls o'er 
 Mankind ! who, like some substance cast upon 
 The restless waters, wearing fast away. 
 Dissolving in the waves, at length from view 
 Forever vanishes, nor leaves behind 
 A single trace to show what once had been. 
 Not so with thee that art unchanged forever. 
 Whether thou comest from the orient gates 
 Clad with the morning, or in western seas 
 Sinkest to slumber, or when storms are loud 
 Upon the groaning spheres and murky clouds 
 Robe thee in night, or when the tempest time 
 Is past, and thou serenely o'er the sky 
 Rollest in splendours, thou art still trie same. 
 Eternal, glorious, unfathomed, strong ; 
 Visible god, throned in immensity. 
 
14 POEMS : LYRICS. 
 
 NATURE PRAISES GOD. 
 
 There's not a voice in all the world, — 
 
 However low or loud, — 
 From the whisper of the daisy 
 
 To the thunder of the cloud, 
 But speaks the praise of Hiin Who gave 
 
 The life to all that be, 
 And, echoing round this radiant sphere 
 
 Sounds on eternally. 
 
 The splendour-winged orbs that float 
 
 Upon the waves of light, 
 The suns that blaze through sapphire deeps, 
 
 Transcendent in their might. 
 The winds that breathe melodious sighs 
 
 In summer's glowing prime, 
 The storms that rage when winter binds 
 
 The streams with chains of rime. 
 
 Deep calling unto deep, the tones 
 
 Of murmuring waters tell 
 The glory of the Architect 
 
 Who made all things so well. 
 Thus Nature speaks ; and oh ! attune, 
 
 Proud man, thy heart with her, 
 And yield submission to thy God ; 
 
 An humble worshipper. 
 
POEMS: LYRICS. 15 
 
 SING ME A SONG TO-DAY. 
 
 Sing me a song to-day 
 
 Softly and low, 
 Melting my cares away 
 
 With its glad glow. 
 Sing of the golden prime, 
 
 Childhood's blithe spring, 
 That fresh, joyous budding time 
 
 Ere blossoming. 
 "When skies were ever blue, 
 
 Days ever clear ; 
 When hearts were ever true. 
 
 Flowers ever fair. 
 Careless of all but play. 
 
 Stranger to sorrow ; 
 Sweet was the world to-day. 
 
 Sweeter each morrow. 
 Let the high harp awake 
 
 Life in each string. 
 Soothing my spirit's ache ; 
 
 Sing ! softly sing ! 
 Sing me a song to-day 
 
 Softly and low. 
 Melting my cares away 
 
 ^Vith its glad flow. 
 
16 POUMS : LYBIClS. 
 
 TO THE GASPEBEAUX. 
 
 Hnppy stream that ever flowest, 
 
 Singing ever, 
 Many a secret sweet thou knowest, 
 
 Thou wilt never 
 Tell to man, but tell it only 
 
 To the sea, 
 Or the stars, that watching lonely. 
 
 Smile on thee. 
 Dusky lovers roamed beside thee 
 
 In old time. 
 Blood of dusky warriors dyed thee 
 
 In thy prime. 
 Scenes, as checkered as the sun ray 
 
 On thy breast. 
 Sweep thy memory many a one, a 
 
 Fond unrest. 
 Happy stream that ever flowest, 
 
 Singing ever. 
 Many a secret tale thou knowest 
 
 Thou wilt never 
 Tell to man, but tell it only 
 
 To the sea, 
 Or the stars that watching lonely. 
 
 Smile on thee. 
 
POEMS : LYEICS. 17 
 
 LOVED AND LOST. 
 
 ""Til better to have loved and lost 
 Than never to have loved at all." 
 
 —In Memoriam. 
 
 While wandering o'er life's meadows grand, 
 
 I plucked a rose beside a rill ; 
 When lo ! a thorn, — by me unscanned, — 
 Did pierce me sore, and o'er the land 
 I cast it, but upon my hand 
 
 The perfume lingered still. 
 The rose 1 plucked was love ; the thorn 
 That pierced me was my darling's scorn ; 
 And memory of that love once dear, 
 The dulcet perfume lingering there. 
 
 WHILE YET THY HEART WAS TRUE 
 TO ME. 
 
 While yet thy heart was true to me. 
 And life a field of fairest flowers, 
 
 I never thought the time could flee 
 That held so many happy hours. 
 
 How swiftly sped the moments bj-, 
 Like sunshine glancing e'er the lea, 
 
 When not a tear bedimmed the eye 
 And thou in life wert all to me ! 
 
 And can thy breast have grown so cold. 
 Thy spirit proved so false to mine, 
 
 Thou canst forget those scenes of old 
 Which made this mortal life divine 1 
 
l8 Poems : lybicS. 
 
 To some new lover tliou wilt breathe 
 Those vows so fondly pledged to me ; 
 
 Another's lips from thine receive 
 
 The bliss which mine was wont to be. 
 
 Those golden hours from sorrow free, 
 When all thy soul was given to me, 
 
 Have flown where Fancy's rainbow light 
 Plays 'round the brow of Memory. 
 
 / WANDER TO-DAY. 
 
 I wander to-day with the past 
 Along by the many-voiced seii ; 
 
 And the roll of the surges upcast. 
 
 Blends strange with each fresh memory. 
 
 One eve, — I remember the time, — 
 The last smile of day lingered .<!till, 
 
 When you promised to ever be mine, 
 'Neath the far-spreading oak on the hill. 
 
 Thy ringlets were golden in hue, 
 A halo of light 'round thy brow ; 
 
 Thine eyes, as the summer sky, blue, 
 Thy song like the brook in its flow. 
 
 But dark frowned the day on thy life. 
 And death gave thy soul to the skies ; 
 
 And I long, when hath passe<l ever strife, 
 To the place of thy spirit to rise. 
 
POEMS : LYRICS. 19 
 
 PARTING. 
 
 Sung at our College Closing, in June, 1891,. 
 AiK: Juanita. 
 Sad, sad to sever 
 
 From the friends we love most dear ! 
 Heart strings must quiver, 
 
 Fall the blinding tear. 
 But the gloom is lightened 
 
 By the hope we'll meet again ; 
 Every prospest brightened, 
 
 Riftless friendship's chain. 
 
 Chobous :— 
 
 Parting, yes, parting 
 
 From the scenes our love that bind ! 
 Leaving, yet casting 
 
 Lingering looks behind. 
 
 Still in full splendour, 
 
 As of old the sun shall shine ; 
 Moons beam as tender. 
 
 Stars as now divine ; 
 But the years advancing 
 
 Us shall many changes bring ; 
 And of Youth glad-glancing 
 
 Age shall droop the wing. 
 
 But, changeless forever, 
 
 Beams the light of memory ; 
 True love can never 
 
 From the bosom fly ; 
 So we'll love and cherish 
 
 These dear days, and scenes, and friends, 
 Love that shall not perish 
 
 Till life's throbbing ends. 
 
20 POEMS : LYRICS. 
 
 AT MY SISTER'S GRAVE. 
 
 Afar in the east shines the rising moon, 
 
 Swift flee the shadows away ; 
 Softly the winds their low dirges tune, 
 
 Sadly the pine boughs sway. 
 Here, where the moonshine silvers the mound. 
 Sister is sleeping her slumber profounJ, 
 Deaf to the world and each warring sound, 
 Blind to the beams of day. 
 
 " Mother, I'm tired, so tired now. 
 
 Tired of life and its pain ; 
 Kiss me, de.ir mother, upon my brow. 
 
 Make me your child again. 
 Now I must sleep, and may never awake. 
 Mother, dear mother, my cold hands take !" 
 These latest words from her pale lips brake ; 
 
 Tired, she slumbered then. 
 
 Sweetly the sun in the west sank low, 
 
 June smiled amid all her flowers, 
 And joyous the carollings clear did flow 
 
 Of birds in the leafy bowers ; 
 When from the bed where the wasted form lay, 
 Weary and wishing no longer stay. 
 Trusting in Christ, passed the soul away 
 
 Where golden mansions glow. 
 
 Days may arise, shine, and pale to rest, 
 
 Stars shed their splendours afar. 
 All in their various beauties dressed, 
 
 The seasons may roll their car ; 
 Never a change in the night of the tomb, 
 No ray can pierce to that silent gloom, — ■ 
 Sister, calm sleeping where daisies bloom, 
 
 Nought can thy slumbers mar. 
 
Jyl iscellaneous vroems. 
 
 THE DOOM OF THE GODS. 
 
 O gods, dethroned and deceased, cast forth, wiped out in a day. 
 From your wrath is the world released, redeemed from your 
 
 chains men say, • 
 
 New Gods are crowned in the city, their flowers have broken 
 
 your rods. 
 They are merciful, clothed with pity, the young compassionate 
 
 gods. 
 
 —From Swinburne's " Hymn to Proserpine." 
 
 The subject of the following poem is the down- 
 fall of the ancient paganism of Greece and Rome, 
 on the introduction of Christianity. The object is 
 primarily the glorification of the latter religion, and 
 secondarily of the mighty bards of old, — especially 
 of Homer, — whose compositions have in reality made 
 the Olympian deities, — in name at least, — immortal, 
 and created the sublime and beautiful mythic realm 
 ■wherein they have dwelt and ruled with antique sway 
 since they have ceased to live and reign in the real 
 world of men. 
 
 I sing of gods whose immortality 
 
 Was won by men who at their shrines adored. 
 
 love of beauty, heavenly power, vouchsafe 
 To tune my voice in somewhat loftier tone, 
 To celebrate the most supreme.st type 
 Of beauty, moulded by the minds that wove 
 O'er Grecian mountains and o'er Latian plains 
 A spell that clothed them with divinity. 
 
22 POEMS : MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 The loveliness that comes when day smiles out 
 Eefulgent on the world, or when the night 
 Glooms in her solemn majesty, and all 
 The soul delights in of the seasons' range : 
 The life-awaking Spring, the gorgeous bloom 
 Of Summer and the Autumn's perfect prime 
 Tell to the mind that ever round us yet 
 Hover the spirits of the bards of old. 
 As when at night within the darkling deep, 
 The sky with all her glittering host of stars 
 Is mirrored, and the mariner beholds 
 The all-ensphering heaven, he knows and feels 
 The universal presence of a God. 
 
 Upon that day when Mary's Son redeemed 
 
 Man from the power of Hell, on many-peaked 
 
 Olympus, in the golden house of Jove, 
 
 The gods with all their consanguinity 
 
 Were gathered ; for the earth, and air and sea. 
 
 And realms beneath the earth, by force did yield 
 
 Their various rulers up. High on a throne 
 
 Resplendent all with gold, whose dazzling form 
 
 Blazed like a mirror in the noon-day sun. 
 
 Hiding its structure, but in bold relief 
 
 Showing the mighty occupant, He sat, 
 
 The All-Ruling Sire ; the head, whose awful nod 
 
 Shook earth to her foundations, on his breast 
 
 Declined, a leaden weight ; the crown had fallen 
 
 Upon the jasper pavement and there lay, 
 
 A beam of light upon a sanguine sea. 
 
 His hand no longer held the glowing bolt. 
 
 Which, falling, idly lay anear his feet, 
 
 Lifeless and cold. Beside him Juno sat 
 
 In deepest sorrow, with her clasped hands 
 
 Reclining on her lap ; her head upraised 
 
 And looks cast forward and steadfast, as though 
 
POEMS : MISCELLANEOUS. 23 
 
 Through golden pillar and amethystine wall 
 
 The vision pierced, encountering far beyond 
 
 The horrid features of Despair rise up 
 
 From utmost chaos. Her ambrosial locks 
 
 Fell o'er her snowy shoulders and her breast, 
 
 And swayed but with its heaving. Many more 
 
 Were there of the divine ones ; girded still 
 
 In adamantine mail, the warrior Mars, 
 
 But shorn of all his fury ; trident-armed 
 
 Neptune, and the wise Aegis-Bearing One, 
 
 Minerva, but her Aegis was bereft 
 
 Of its Gorgonian terrors ; sad she stood 
 
 With hand upon her upright massy spear. 
 
 While from beneath the helm, her tresses gold 
 
 Streamed backward, and majestic sorrow dimmed 
 
 Her large blue eye. The Queen of Love was there ; 
 
 And He, the Archer of the Silver Bow, 
 
 Apollo, lovely in immortal youth, 
 
 Around whose form the Sacred Sisters Nine 
 
 •Gathered with all their tuneful harps unstrung. 
 
 While, thronging the long corridors, or cHnging 
 
 Around the lofty columns, or tlie throne 
 
 Of some celestial power, all the beings 
 
 That ever fiamen taught or poet dreamed, — 
 
 Dryad and Faun, and Satyr, Grace arid Nymph, 
 
 And many a Naiad fair, — their native haunts 
 
 Deserting, there were gathered. Oft before 
 
 Had Jove's high dwelling brightened with the glow 
 
 Of deities assembled, when the world 
 
 Youthful, obeyed them all in youth and knew 
 
 Naught but obedience ; then celestial might 
 
 Was in their limbs, and glory all divine 
 
 Gleamed from their faces ; now how changed ! how 
 
 changed ! 
 Sorrow possessed each heart, and on each brow 
 Despair was written, while a silence deep 
 
24 POEMS : MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Brooded like magic spell upon thein all. 
 
 But grief cannot remain in silence long, 
 
 But must expression find, when the first stroke 
 
 That numbs the soul hath passed ; for words bring balm 
 
 To pangs they body forth ; so when we hear 
 
 The sad relation of another's woe, 
 
 He seems to share and lighten thus our own ; 
 
 And weakest spirits first this comfort seek. 
 
 " Apollo, sing some sorrow-laden song, 
 
 That these black hours, which stagnate into years> 
 
 May move more quickly by.'' So sighing, spake 
 
 Calliope, and turned appealing looks 
 
 Upon her deity ; but no response 
 
 Parted his lips ; and in short interval 
 
 Again she cried : " Apollo, sing ! oh sing !" 
 
 At this he lifted up his head and gazed 
 
 Around, beholding every vision bent 
 
 Upon him ; even the far-piercing eye 
 
 Of the still awful Jove in mute appeal 
 
 Kespake the words : " Apollo, sing ! oh sing !" 
 
 Apollo answered not ; but o'er the harjj 
 
 His melody-awaking fingers passed. 
 
 Thrice he essayed the unwilling strain to raise. 
 
 Thrice failed his voice and touch ; then straight he flung 
 
 The shell aside, and breathed his accents thus : 
 
 " I cannot sing, for tongue and string alike 
 
 Refuse their duty ; but I may the tale 
 
 Eelate of my dread downfall and mayhap 
 
 This aching time will haste its slow career. 
 
 Throned on the blazing car which bore of old 
 
 Hyperion, through the sapphire orient gates 
 
 I late came forth bringing the blushing morn. 
 
 Far through the limitless demesnes of space, 
 
 Eushing with thunder speed, my chariot passed ; 
 
 The ethereal coursers from their nostrils blowing 
 
 The flaming hours, and with their dreadless hoofs 
 
POEMS : MISCELLANEOUS. 25 
 
 Treading the ambient winds, and bearing day 
 
 To mortals and immortals, chasing night, 
 
 That fled before in terror, to his cave 
 
 Deep in the Occidental ; on, on, on 
 
 They sped, until with tireless feet they trod 
 
 The empyrean, when behind I heard 
 
 A sound as of the sweeping of great wings, 
 
 Or as a forest on some niountain side 
 
 Swayed by the tempest, when Euroclydon 
 
 Wakes raging. Rearward straight my vision turned, 
 
 And lo ! an unknown one, whom like a god 
 
 I'd call, but for a god he seemed too bright. 
 
 Too glorious ; rainbows circled all his form. 
 
 And, widely waving from his shoulders, wings 
 
 Supported him ; before him, the right hand 
 
 Did grasp a blade, that like the lightning's beam, 
 
 Jagged streamed forth afar. His countenance 
 
 Majestic past all utterance ; Jove might ne'er 
 
 Gaze fearless on that brow. Onward he came, 
 
 Doubling my coursers' speed, his mighty vans. 
 
 Like two great clouds of purest white, outspread 
 
 Fanning the air to whirlwinds. He o'ertook 
 
 Me soon, and with a voice as of the sea 
 
 Lab'ring in tempest, " Phcebus from thy place 
 
 Descend and yield thy flaming car to me. 
 
 The minister of Him who reigns supreme. 
 
 The old gods are too weak for sovereignty, 
 
 And from beneath their feeble rule hath passed 
 
 The empire of the universe ; descend !" 
 
 And by his word, stricken as Phaeton 
 
 By Jove's hurled thunder, down through the abyss, 
 
 Earthward I fell — down ! down ! the aerial mists 
 
 Smote on my form, as, by my horrid speed. 
 
 They seemed to harden ; till, with dizzy brain. 
 
 Upon Olympus' top I ceased my flight, 
 
 Leaving my coursers guided by new hands 
 
26 POEMS : MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 And terrible. But whence that being came, 
 
 Where nurtured, by what hidden power sent forth, 
 
 I know it not.'' Then with a sigh that choked 
 
 His further utterance, Phcebus ceased ; and straight 
 
 The Harmonious Sisters seized their lyres and strung,, 
 
 And singing soothed awhile each paining heart. 
 
 " Mourn for the beauty gone, the glory lost." 
 
 This the refrain ; and when it died away, 
 
 The voice of Maia's Winged Son was heard 
 
 Cleaving the silence and his accents these : 
 
 " The power that hath unsceptered us, to me 
 
 Hath been revealed. Thou knowest, father Jove, 
 
 Thrice hath the Lord of day through Scorpius passed,. 
 
 Since One within the far Judean land, — 
 
 His birth was marked by all the elements, — 
 
 Although a mortal, did proclaim himself 
 
 God and the Son of God. But not in guise 
 
 Godlike he came, on sunbright car enthroned. 
 
 Begirt with iiaming hosts ; nay, nor in state 
 
 Of earthly monarch, clad in starry splendor 
 
 Of jewelled robes keen sparkling, but was born 
 
 In lowly manger 'mid sweet breathing kine 
 
 That knelt adoring ; meekness and gentleness 
 
 'Bode with Him ever ; more than human love 
 
 He bore for those by sin and woe oppressed ; 
 
 And many hearts were by His precepts turned 
 
 To offer prayer at other shrines than ours. 
 
 This day, the clouds dividing with swift wing. 
 
 O'er land and sea toward Tithonus' realm, 
 
 I sped ; but paused above the wind-swept plain 
 
 That erst knew Ilium. Fond remembrance came 
 
 Of deeds by gods and god-like heroes done, 
 
 When gods were young and great, and ruled unchecked. 
 
 And humankind were like to them in might. 
 
 Thence onward passed, and on the formless winds 
 
 Eiding, I came, where, on her ancient hills 
 
POEMS : MISCELLANEOUS. 27 
 
 Jerusalem gleamed forth in regal pride. 
 
 When sounds, such as near reached mine ear before, 
 
 Came on the breeze ; and from the horizon far, 
 
 Uj)rose in rank on rank of order true, 
 
 In countless myriads, a shining host 
 
 Of beings never viewed by heavenly ken. 
 
 Winnowing with plumes immense the yielding air. 
 
 They came, thought-speeded, with great faces turned, — 
 
 Oh, how impotent are the loftiest words 
 
 E'er syllabled by created tongue, to tell 
 
 What beauty and what majesty sublime 
 
 Shone radiant on them ! — towards Jerusalem ; 
 
 Each orb of sight fixed steadfast on a hill, 
 
 The goal of their advance ; and so intent 
 
 Their eager gaze, iinnoticed me they passed. 
 
 As birds, that, numberless, with steady wing 
 
 Circle some broad based tower e'er they alight, 
 
 To rear new homes when Spring bids earth awake, 
 
 So in vast gyres moving, these at last 
 
 Encircled all the hill, rank above rank, 
 
 Eeceding as they rose, till high above 
 
 Calvaria's mount they formed a living crown. 
 
 !No sound arose as that ethereal host. 
 
 With folded pinion and transfixed gaze, 
 
 Hung in mid-air. My sight did follow theirs ; 
 
 And round the hill and from the city gates 
 
 Still pouring, multitudinous as the leaves 
 
 In Latmian forests, a tumultuous mass 
 
 Of mortals came to look upon the pangs 
 
 Of the pale Galilean, on a cross 
 
 Fixed writhing in enormous agonies. 
 
 Curses and mockeries, and insults vile 
 
28 POEMS : MISCELLANEOtJS. 
 
 As the deep cry rang from the suffering lips : 
 
 " Eli, eli lama sabathani." 
 
 Another pause succeeded ; then again, 
 
 " 'Tis finished," was the cry, for death was come. 
 
 Then earth in horrible convulsion shook 
 
 Groaning in earthquake travail ; and huge rocks, 
 
 Torn from their beds, hurled echoing around. 
 
 Made universal din ; and from the tombs, 
 
 The dead, long mouldering, in their cerements 
 
 Came forth, a ghastly band, to tread once more 
 
 Paths erst familiar. From its body freed. 
 
 The Prophet's spirit lingered not but rose 
 
 Upward as borne by its unbounded will, 
 
 To that aerial band which moveless hung 
 
 Like cloud that waits the breeze by summer blown. 
 
 Forthwith in adoration every brow 
 
 Declined ; and from the serried ranks arose 
 
 A song of triumph loud but strangely sweet ; 
 
 As nor Apollo, nor the Muses Nine 
 
 Forth from their throbbing throats have ever poured. 
 
 Then when the melody had died away. 
 
 He Who but one short hour's space before 
 
 Had been the weakest and the scorn of men, 
 
 But now the adored of the supernal powers. 
 
 With majesty spake : " All is finished now. 
 
 The grave is conquered, death of sting bereft. 
 
 Hell's empire overthrown, and man made heir 
 
 To an eternal glory. The false gods 
 
 Who have seduced his spirit from the right, 
 
 To them unworthy worship, must be driven 
 
 From all their realms ; that earth no more deny 
 
 Me and My Father. Ministei's of light, 
 
 Forth on your mission ! may none tarriance show." 
 
 They heard His voice ; and on the nimble wing 
 
 Wheeling, like sun rays from the centre cast 
 
 They tracked the course of all the winds of heaven. 
 
POEMS : MISCELLANEOUS. 29 
 
 The event we sadly know ; and who can tell 
 
 That our dread conquerors may hither come 
 
 To this, our latest refuge ?" At that word 
 
 All eyes instinct toward the portal rolled. 
 
 When lo ! a light as of the rising sun 
 
 Shone in the palace ; and the galleries, 
 
 And columned vistas, and colossal walls 
 
 Glowed as the clouds that cradle the young Dawn. 
 
 And, as the day flames upward to his noon. 
 
 The lustre grew, till every countenance 
 
 Its wonder witnessed and its deep dismay ; 
 
 When, through the lofty archway's ample space. 
 
 The Living Splendor entered. From its form 
 
 Such radiance came as e'en immortal sight 
 
 Could scarce endure. His stature passing far 
 
 Earth's hugest sons, or in the northland dark, 
 
 Whose wondrous deeds in many a saga live. 
 
 The brood of Jotunheim. Typhoeus dire 
 
 He might have seized and with one hand unnerved. 
 
 Around his head a golden crown blazed forth 
 
 And seemed a circling fire. The majesty 
 
 Of stainless strength, with passions all unmixed, — 
 
 Save of a love lit on no earthly shrine, — 
 
 Reigned on his countenance ; and plume on plume, 
 
 Down from his shining shoulders, his vast vans 
 
 Like alabaster towers, on either side 
 
 Guarded his form ; nor sword, nor sheltering shield 
 
 Bore he, nor of such argument had need 
 
 To aid his conquering glance ; and every god. 
 
 All mute before this flaming messenger. 
 
 Instinctive waited for his words of fate. 
 
 Nor long ; for like some organ swelling vast 
 
 Its volumed tones and deep, the Glory spake : 
 
 " The doom pronounced by Heaven's Eternal King 
 
 On you, now justly driven from those thrones, 
 
 Whereon for ages ye have fed mankind 
 
30 POEMS : MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 With dire deceits and warped the livinp; truth, 
 
 Hear and abide ! Ye are adulterous gods ; 
 
 And all unworthy 'twere that man should bow 
 
 And worship more at such polluted shrines, 
 
 Offending the Most High. No longer then 
 
 Your reigns endure ; and coming years shall bring 
 
 No hope of rule returned ; but, since the minds 
 
 Many, that to the Olympian altars bent 
 
 Adoring, drew an inspiration grand, 
 
 And with their concourse of immortal thoughts. 
 
 An intellectual realm of glory formeil, 
 
 Sublime and beautiful ; where lovely forms, 
 
 And forms majestic, heroes and heroines. 
 
 And mighty demi-gods, forever move 
 
 Amid those flowers which, born of Time, 
 
 Shall bloom the comrades of Eternity. 
 
 Thither ye shall retire ; and, while mind 
 
 Endures through untold ages yet to come. 
 
 Over that wondrous land when man shall tread 
 
 He pales before the blazing bolt of Jove 
 
 And feels the trembling spheres confess his nod. 
 
 Still in that mythic world as here of old, 
 
 Apollo's steeds shall usher in the day. 
 
 And iire the western clouds at eventide ; 
 
 Great cities quake before the Warrior's voice, 
 
 And fall beneath his spear ; and Pallas breathe 
 
 Her words of wisdom, and Diana roam. 
 
 Brightening the groves with rays of Chastity. 
 
 But, nevermore may odorous incense rise 
 
 From the altars reared to you ; and men shall blend 
 
 Their voices, swelling loud the tuneful praise 
 
 Of the true God, eternal, infinite, 
 
 Perfect in wisdom, goodness, and in mercy. 
 
 The past is dead ; a newer, better time 
 
 Dawns on a world, freed from the iron rule 
 
 Of gods whose noblest attribute was strength. 
 
POEMS : MISCELLANEOUS. 31 
 
 A better time, when love, displacing might, 
 
 Dwells chiefly ; and as ages roll along 
 
 Shall strengthen, till, all nations and all tribes 
 
 Soothed by its power, with evil passions lulled 
 
 To endless rest, a single glorious hymn 
 
 From all the earth shall rend the echoing skies, 
 
 Attuned to God ; and universal peace, — 
 
 Unknown since Eden's lords obedient moved, — 
 
 Shall with a flowery wreath the planet bind. 
 
 Depart, heirs of sorrow, to that world, 
 
 By blind old Homer made so long ago, 
 
 Where change may enter not." He spake, and straight 
 
 He stood alone upon the verdurous height, 
 
 His snowy pinions folded to his side, 
 
 His shining hands clasped steadfast, while his head. 
 
 Decked with its crown of light, was slowly bent 
 
 As if in sorrow. Musing, last he spake : 
 
 " Why should a shade regretful touch my frame 
 
 For these fall'n powers ? All which they inspired 
 
 Of beauty lives forever, and their reign 
 
 Of myriad ages never yet removed 
 
 A single pang entailed on human hearts." 
 
 He ceased ; and spreading his wide-shadowing plumes. 
 
 And floating down the day-star's western track, 
 
 Vanished and left to night the world redeemed. 
 
 In that same hour, across the orb there rang 
 From Grecian valleys to the Lybian sands, 
 Eeyond the Pillars to the Blessed Isles, 
 Thence o'er the listening ocean wastward far. 
 Where Cotapaxi's mountain roaring shakes 
 A continent and with ambitious flame 
 Daunts the pale stars, and every nation heard 
 The far resounding voice ; " Great Pan is dead." 
 And where Olympus' form slopes to the sea. 
 
32 POEMS : MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Upon the forest lyre the sad winds smote, 
 Waking melodious murmurs that swelled sweet 
 And soft and mournful till the notes conjoined 
 In one weird cry • " Great Pan is dead, is dead,"* 
 Then sank again to silence as before. 
 
 LIFE'S CHARM FLOWN. 
 
 There's not a joy this world can give like that it takes away, 
 When the glow of early thought declines in feelings dull decay. 
 
 —Byron 
 
 what is life worth when its charm is departed. 
 When the soul's sensibility's deadened and o'er ; 
 
 When things once so pleasing pass by unregarded. 
 And the heart throbs responsive to beauty no more \ 
 
 1 am not as I was : in the seasons that slumber 
 
 With the sepulchred Past, Nature's every refrain 
 Gave to memory exquisite joys without number, 
 " Like wax to receive and like marble retain." 
 
 In rapture I'd gaze on the splendours all golden 
 Of sunset wide flaming the skies in the west ; 
 
 And by spell of the beauty in ecstasy holden, 
 
 I watched till the world in night's mantle was dressed.. 
 
 The cold, silent moon in her majesty sweeping 
 
 O'er her star-studded pathway, pale empress of nightj 
 
 The planets their vigils unceasingly keeping, 
 Of old ever yielded me purest delight. 
 
 * See the legend in Plutarch. 
 
POEMS : MISCELLANEOUS. 33 
 
 The wind breathing gently o'er mountain and meadow, 
 Giving soft voices to whispering boughs, 
 
 The placid lake checkered with sunshine and shadow, 
 And songs that in deep glades the echoes arouse. 
 
 I loved Nature's calms ; but nij' strongest affection 
 Awoke when in terror she shrouded her form : 
 
 When a cloud-compelled gloom hid the day-star's com- 
 plexion, 
 And a heart-thrilling silence preluded the storm. 
 
 My being was stirred with sublime exultation. 
 
 As the lightnings blazed out dealing death to the 
 gloom, 
 And the thunder's voice spake to the trembling crea- 
 tion 
 In anger as roaring the last note of doom ; 
 
 And the tempest rushed forth and the forest was 
 shaken. 
 While pines, thunder-smitten were hurled to the 
 ground, 
 And clamorous crows by the blast overtaken 
 
 Were whirled with the withered leaves helpless 
 around. 
 
 Yea ! Nature had voices, articulate voices 
 
 That spake to me then as friend speaketh to friend ; 
 
 Their accents are dumb ; and my spirit rejoices 
 No more in that converse so sweet to attend. 
 
 Of old, my young mind with its fancies o'erteeming, 
 Would people each grot, every glade, every glen 
 
 With numberless forms of rare beauty, each seeming 
 As real to me as my friends among men. 
 
34 POEMS : MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Oh what is life worth when its charm is departed, 
 The soul's sensibility deadened and o'er ? 
 
 When things which once thrilled us are passed unre- 
 garded, 
 And the heart swells responsive to beauty no more I 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PR 9298.B62P6 
 
 Poemsisonnets, lyrics, and miscellaneous 
 
 3 1924 013 514 512