Sbfr^S of Ijatuxe 3 fl fl^HlTE '■■ : .:....■':: -;'; " -■*!■;-!■ !"'■■' :' "'■ ■:-! |g| §&< ' : :*: : :;i : ':-: ; --*:': : :v : >; : ' /.^"S^ ;;:; - ..;.; ■ ■.;..'. . ' ■ ■ • ....... ■ , .;; (ttmuM WLuivmty jStafg THE GIFT OF ..^jTjJ5i\Auy\fc .^,^,%Ss / ^jjJ\jyy\ouy\-- k.ZGA*rb°\ Z7^)-i.2-, PS 1065.B7S6 Un ' VerS " y Ubrary Bl ?j>ni9s of nature. 3 1924 022 059 541 / 1 £*- ^£. / ?,/?/L*, /tf^&c /ffa^^^ SONGS OF NATURE BY JARED BARHITE, Ph. D. SYRACUSE, N. T. C. W. BARDEEN, PUBLISHER Copyright, 1912, by Jared Babhite fV-LU-Ho^ DEDICATION To all who love Nature, and to all who desire to love and enjoy her psychic, mystic, and material manifestations upon the earth below, the heavens above, and the soul within, while searching for the boundless treasures she has concealed from "A Stoic of the woods, a man without a tear", "Songs of Nature" is cheerfully and respectfully dedicated by The Author Long Island City, N. Y. March 30, 1912 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022059541 PREFACE There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar; I love not man the less, but Nature more. — Byron The groves were God's first temples. — Bryant To love a plant, a flower, or a tree does not neces- sarily require a botanical analysis, or an ability to separate and name all its parts, to ascertain to what species it belongs. Such analysis, as a science, may or may not increase the love of the examiner for the object examined and for the genus to which it belongs. The dissection may be interesting, as botanical science, but it usually fails to inspire a love for the object torn apart. A cold-blooded destruction and analysis of a plant or an animal tends to alienate the affection and reverence of the examiner for the object in hand and all its related family, even though his knowledge of its physical construction has been increased. Fully to understand the niche in creation it was designed to fill, to feel the warm glow of friendship its beauty inspires, to see within its birth and develop- ment the purposes of its Creator, and to accept this child of the Great Father as a welcome brother, is the acme of satisfaction to intelligent man. (vii) viii PREFACE To him who loves Nature, in all her beauty and grandeur; who joyously turns his heart toward her for instruction and inspiration that will lead him into pleasant and benign paths, wherein his mind and soul may obtain knowledge accessible through no other sources; to him who would feel the thrill of joy awakened by the memories of the past, the associations of the present, and the joyous anticipa- tions of the future while in the magic presence of her boundless charms, these poems are cheerfully and confidingly offered. Believing that the age of love for the production of verse pure in thought, chaste in language, elevat- ing and ennobling in character, has not departed from the people; and feeling that this volume may be placed in the hands and keeping of both young 'and old to aid them in cultivating a love for the beautiful in Nature that may be seen on earth and in the heavens above, "Songs of Nature" is respect- fully committed to the reading public by The Author TITLES 1 A Song of Nature 3 2 My Garden and my Gardner 4 3 The Spirit of a Poet True 6 4 The Haunts of the Muse 8 5 Nature's Laws 10 6 Communion With Nature 12 7 Indices 15 8 Nature's Child 16 9 Teachings of Nature 16 10 The Lover of Nature 17 11 Sweet Songs Silently Sung 18 12 That Cottage by the Stream 22 13 A Merry Stream 24 14 Memory Scenes 27 15 Nature's Voice 28 16 The Second Sunday in May 30 17 The Old Orchard in May 32 18 'Tis Nearing the Time for Arbutus 33 19 Who Loves Devoutly Nature Wild 35 20 The Natural Science Girl 36 21 Reflection 40 22 Reverie 44 23 Sunset 46 24 A Faded Leaf 47 25 Artist Nature 49 26 A Quiet Nook 50 27 The Star 51 28 A Cricket's Song 52 29 Autumnal Insect's Songs 53 30 To a Mountain Brook 55 31 Mountain Brook 56 32 To Trinity Lake, Poundridge, N. Y 58 33 Oceanus's Mirror, Trinity Lake, N. Y 60 34 October 61 35 The Stream's Story 63 36 Arbor Day Tribute 64 (fat) x TITLES 37 The Rose 65 39 The Goldenrod 66 39 Buttercups and Daisies 67 40 The Dandelion 69 41 The Fringed Gentian 70 42 The Anemone 71 43 Trailing Arbutus 72 44 A Pansy 73 45 The Morning Glory 74 46 Rye 75 47 The Flowers I Love 76 48 What Flowers Say 78 49 Rufus 80 50 The Invitation 83 51 The Birds I Love 84 52 The Orioles 86 53 Songs of the Vireo 89 54 Chidley Wink— the Blue Jay 89 55 The Thrush 91 56 Robin Redbreast 92 57 Robin is » Singer 94 58 The Lone Bird 95 59 Songs I Love 96 60 Shatamuck — the Hudson River 97 61 Onteora 99 62 Evening at Kingston, N. Y 101 63 Cold Spring-on-Hudson, N. Y 103 64 Nearer Heaven 105 65 The Trysting-Tree 109 66 Shadows 110 67 Fishing Ill 68 Poundridge, N. Y 118 69 Fidelity 125 70 Detatched Thoughts 142 TITLES ARRANGED ALPHABETICALLY Anemone, The 71 Arbor Day Tribute 64 Artist Nature 49 Autumnal Insect Songs 53 Birds I Love 84 Buttercups and Daisies 67 Chidley Wink— The Blue Jay 89 Cold Spring-on-Hudson, N. Y 103 Communion with Nature 12 Cottage by the Stream 22 Cricket's Song 52 ' Dandelion, The 69 Detatched Thoughts 142 Evening at Kingston, N. Y 101 Faded Leaf 47 Fidelity 125 Fishing HI Flowers I Love 76 Fringed Gentian, The 70 Goldenrod, The 66 Haunts of the Muse 8 Indices 15 Invitation 83 Lone Bird, The • 95 Lover of Nature 17 Memory Scenes 27 Merry Stream 24 Morning Glory, The 74 Mountain Brook 56 My Garden and my Gardener 4 Nature's Child 16 Nature's Laws 10 Nature's Voice 28 Natural Science Girl ; 36 Nearer Heaven 105 (*0 xii TITLES ARRANGED ALPHABETICALLY Nearing Time for Arbutus 33 Oceanus's Mirror 60 October 61 Old Orchard in May 32 Onteora 99 Orioles 86 Pansy, A 73 Poundridge . N. Y 118 Quiet Nook 50 Reflection 40 Reverie 44 Robin is a Singer 94 Robin Redbreast 92 Rose, The 65 Rufus 80 Rye 75 Second Sunday in May 30 Shadows 110 Shatamuck — The Hudson River 97 Songs I Love 96 Song of Nature 3 Song of the Vireo 88 Spirit of the Poet True 6 Star, The 51 Stream's Story, The 63 Sunset 46 Sweet Songs Silently Sung 18 Teachings of Nature 16 Thrush, The 91 To a Mountain Brook 55 To Trinity Lake, Poundridge, N. Y 58 Trailing Arbutus 72 Trysting Tree 109 What Flowers Say 78 Who Loves Devoutly Nature Wild 35 Who sees in Nature naught to love, And feels no joy when she displays Her charms on earth, in heaven above, A want of culture pure betrays. SONGS OF NATURE A Song of Nature Sing, sing of Nature, O my soul, And let the anthems be Tuned like the spheres that 'round us roll In perfect harmony, Till every plant and flower and tree, And all created things Shall join in a sweet melody To Nature's offerings. Sing of the brook so pure, so free That leaps adown the mountain side; Of hills where squirrel and the bee In quietude abide; Of waving grain and velvet lawn, Bedecked with diamonds bright, — Fair offsprings of unclouded dawn, Born of a starry night. Sing of the orbs in yonder sky That seem to man to be Fair portals to the Deity, Through which we almost see A beckoning hand unto those spheres; And Faith's strong telescope Dispels the mists and clouds and fears With radiance of hope. (3) SONGS OF NATURE Sing of kind Nature's boundless store Of charms upon the earth; Then take the wings of love and soar To Him who gave them birth; Then, then, my soul, in simplest art, Attune thy sweetest lay, And let the impulse of my heart In song itself portray. My Garden and My Gardener Come, come with me to my parterre, And joy with me the flora rare, That bloom and blush in beauty there To please my Gardener and me. On sylvan slope, by marge of tarn, Beside the streamlet mountain-born, Where'er I look, where'er I turn My Gardener's handiwork I see. From tropic-zone He zephyr brings To touch the tensioned, tuneful strings, To which Aeolus softly sings To waken slumbering flowers; Then calls soft vapors from the sky To mellow, warm, and beautify The soil wherein in slumber lie The incense-germs for May-day hours. My garden and my Gardener On me abiding joys confer, For they are hope and harbinger Of peace that unto me shall come SONGS OF NATURE When known to me is full design Of Him, and all His works benign That bloom, below, or yonder shine Within that fair, celestial dome. At silent night when mortals sleep, While stars their watchful vigils keep, And dews the plant-germs gently steep My faithful Gardener is there, To give a perfume to the flower, To beautify the wilding bower, To ward away the ills that lower Upon the objects of His care. My Gardener has ne'er concealed The beauties of the sky and field From him who would have them revealed And seeks through Nature's laws to find The true companionship that springs From converse with earth's living things 'Mid scenes wherein kind Nature brings Beauties my Gardener designed. Come, come with me to regions where Infinitude of flora fair Bedecks the earth, perfumes the air; Where Nature's minstrelsy is heard From streamlet singing in the glen, From trembling leaves of fair aspen, From chattering notes of tiny wren And throat of many a warbling bird. SONGS OF NATURE The Spirit of a Poet True The spirit of a poet true Is noble, kind, and brave; Joyous may sometimes be his theme, Sometimes sedate and grave, Yet sings his soul aflame with love For all that's pure and good, Whether amid the surging throng Or deepest solitude. A smile he sees in arctic moss That blooms on tundra wild, As genial as the tropic rose Or face of winsome child. A fallen leaf, a faded flower, The meekest plant that springs Unfolds to him such theme of joy That all within him sings. A flake of snow in crystal rare, A cloud hung in the sky, A pendant drop by sunlight gilt, A plume from wing on high, A song of bird, a rainbow hue, A thunder-peal from sky, Is each a message unto him From the Divinity. What though in thought he dwell alone, Away from other men, - "* Seek solace on the mountain-peaks, Or in the silent glen, SONGS OF NATURE 7 His song is fraught with love for each And tuned to mortal ears To charm away the ills of life, Allay its doubts and fears. Go, bask with him for one brief hour, In sunshine of the soul, Hear music hymned by Nature's choir And listen to the roll Of harmony from unseen band That soothes and joys him, too, Then you may partly understand The poet kind and true. He holds communion with the tree, The flower, the stream, the bird; Hears Nature's sweetest symphony By other ears unheard; Sees in the worm that creeps him by A brother strangely planned, But fashioned for its destiny By an unerring hand. His soul expands and warms and glows Through knowledge of the things That Nature's laws to him disclose; And thus his soul takes wings And dwells with Him who all things planned, And finds a solace rare In knowing that all was designed With wisdom, love, and care. SONGS OF NATURE As hand in hand Bridegroom and Bride, — God and fair Nature, — move; The universe is fructified With incense of their love; And thankful voice from man and bird, Wild stream, and ocean-roar, Should through creation's realms be heard In praises evermore. The Haunts of the Muse In rural haunts where Nature Holds her supremacy, Where plant and moving creature Are blithe, winsome, and free; Where crystal streams are flowing Beneath primeval trees, While on their banks are growing. Blue-eyed anemones ; Where songs of birds in chorus Blend vocal harmonies With wind-harps shrill, sonorous, Played by a perfumed breeze; Where Faun and Dryad linger In their nocturnal dance, Till note of feathered singer Proclaims the morn's advance, The poet loves to wander And gather treasures rare, Through communions that engender A bliss beyond compare. SONGS OF NATURE In wild entangled bowers, Where bough and clinging vine Mingle with fragrant flowers, And lovingly entwine; Where streams of limpid water Well from the mossy sod, Then dance away in laughter To the watercresses' nod; Where mingle ferns and mosses The banks of stream beside, And the pliant ozier tosses Her head in pompous pride; Where water-lily's fragrance Perfumes the summer air, Wooing lovers and vagrants To linger longer there, The bard holds sweet companionship And drinks from that charmed stream Whose waters Orpheus loved to sip To make his notes supreme. In meadows where the clover And daisies bloom and fade; Where coreopses cover The upland and the glade; Where waxen laurel blushes In the majesty of June, Among wild shrubs and bushes, Ablooming all alone; Where lichen and bright columbine Embellish cliffs on high, And kiss the radiant cheek sublime Of cloud- forms floating by; 10 SONGS OF NATURE Where thunder of old ocean, Beating upon the strand, Hymns forth the true devotion Of Oceanus grand, The muse finds mystic solace, Enchanting to his soul, Drinks from Erato's chalice The nectar gods control. Where the surging multitude Crowds most the city streets, The bard may walk in solitude Unconscious whom he meets, His eyes ofttimes withholden, His mind entranced in thought, His being so enfolden In themes by muses wrought, His eyes have lost true vision, Ears deafened unto tone, While he, in sweet elysian, Dwells in his thoughts alone; It matters not his station, — A mendicant or king, — 'Mid plenty or privation, His joyous soul will sing And gather e'en from briars, His pathway may bestrew, What most his soul desires, — Friendship with Nature true. Nature's Laws To him who sees in Nature's laws The workings of a Hand Divine, SONGS OF NATURE 11 And seeks to find the Primal Cause That truth within his soul may shine, Shall come communion with his God, Surpassing canons one observes And holds, in form, because a rod Threatens to punish him who swerves. A tiny leaf, a budding plant, A mossy bank, a laughing stream, Has each a hidden element Bestowed on it by Hand Supreme, Which he alone can understand Who seeks to know the truth and might Of Him who darkness can command And change it to life-giving light. Adown the mountain vale there comes A streamlet, dancing to that law Which holds unnumbered orbs and homes By cords unseen, that ever draw With an unswerving power and force; Fast holds, in poise, the universe, And guides the planets in their course, By ratios wise and terse. Seek where we may through Nature's realm, On earth, on ocean, heaven above, A Guiding Hand is at the helm With chart of universal love To steer life's bark among the shoals Where breakers wild dash into foam; And as the last dark billow rolls, Faith sees beyond abiding home. 12 SONGS OF NATURE Communion With Nature Tis sweet to hold communion With Nature true and wild, And feel the thrill of gladness She breathes upon her child, When close upon her bosom We press the listening ear, And fancy that the minstrelsy Our raptured senses hear Is sweeter than the chorus By human choirs sung, And richer than vibrations Of strings so deftly strung, That all their intonations Are blended in one strain By touch of fairy fingers That enchant the sweet refrain. The colors of the sunset Upon the evening sky, When necked with fleeting vapors Detached, and awry, Yield beauties that no artist, Save God alone, can show To eyes that seek such blendings, And hearts that long to know The hidden things of Nature That ne'er can be revealed To him who finds not heaven In mountain, sky, and field; For he who lives the nearest To Nature's self shall find Joy, boundless as the ocean, As pure, as unconfined. SONGS OF NATURE 13 Deep in the leafy forest A thousand tones are heard, The laughing, dancing brooklet, The song of sweet-voiced bird, The buzz of bee on flower, The leaf by breezes fanned, The hum of tiny insect, Whose feeble notes command The heart-beat's modulation, To learn the great decree That frees the mind from ignorance And sets the spirit free, Through knowledge of those hidden things That God only reveals To him who loves all Nature, And for a brother feels. The dearest and the sweetest Of all the charms on earth, Are those that link our nature To feelings that have birth, When leaf and flower and fruitage Steal our being for an hour, And we are half unconscious Of some mysterious power That leads us close to heaven, And points to joys supreme, Where fields and flowers and happiness Are not a transient dream, But an abiding heritage Whose limit has no end, Whose every rock and tree and shrub Is a true and trusted friend. 14 SONGS OF NATURE The soul expands as Nature Pervades its every part And leads it to the presence Of him who made the heart; It takes the wings of science, The faith of saints above, Calls God to be its teacher, And emulates His love; Sees every man its brother; And all created things Are but the links of brotherhood To which their being clings; Each claims rightful protection, — The lower and the higher, — As a part of its Creator — A product of its Sire. If heaven is not shadowed Upon our spirit mind, Through all its gorgeous tintings And colorings combined ; If Nature has no language To charm the ear and eye, And books and birds and forests Afford no minstrelsy ; If waving grain and orchards, Freighted with fragrance rare, Draw not the spirit heavenward And lift the soul in prayer, Then orisons are soulless, Though voiced on bended knee, And small must be our knowledge Of the Great Deity. SONGS OP NATURE 15 Indices 'Tis strange how trifles light as air Impress themselves upon the brain, Enter unbidden, nestle there, And there forever will remain. One spring, beneath a dogwood tree, A twig she bent, a flower caressed, Removed the blossom tenderly, And clasped it fondly to her breast. A meek, blue-eyed anemone, Tinged with a hue of heaven fair, She garnered gladly, joyously, And homed it deftly in her hair. Some wild arbutus copseland born, From which the bee his nectar sips, She wreathed her forehead to adorn And vie her blushing cheek and lips. Such choice of flowers, such graceful mien, Such deft arrangement, simple art, Could but immortalize the scene And leave sweet impress on the heart. A germ was biding in each flower, Each act a germ of love betrayed, United they were magic power Of love and beauty well displayed. 'Tis not the pompous act that charms And holds the heart in durance sweet; Simplicity all doubt disarms And makes her victory complete. 16 SONGS OF NATURE Nature's Child I would rather dwell with Nature, And be her favored child, To love plant, rock, and creature As found in forest wild, And feel the satisfaction That I can understand The beauty and attraction Of motives noble, grand, That fashioned for man's pleasure This brilliant world of ours, Than possess the jeweled treasure Of all earth's kingly powers. Teachings of Nature By him who loves all Nature, And lives with Nature's God, The tiniest living creature Is so well understood, He sees it as a brother, Though crude its form may be, And counts it as another Link of infinity In the endless chain of being From rhizopod to man, In harmony agreeing With the Master Builder's plan. No soul can fill its mission, Which deems that it alone Is worthy of transition From a hovel to a throne; SONGS OF NATURE 17 Which claims that lower creatures With higher should not share; Are aliens by their natures From Providential care. Life is a coruscation, A spark of vital fire, Infused, at its creation, With a portion of its Sire. The spirit of the Maker May dwell in human form That is also a partaker Of the spirit of the worm; For both have the same Father, Both, His affinity; Thus, each is to the other, A matter of degree. 'Tis true the higher spirit We designate as soul, But why should man inherit That spirit as a whole? The Lover of Nature To the lover of Nature in all of her phases, A language she speaks to others unknown, Unfolds herself freely and soothingly raises The spirits of mortals who dwell in her zone. She breathes upon such the fragrance of heaven, And draws them away from the ills of despair, Surrounds them with pleasures that cannot be given To the worn devotees of society's care. 18 SONGS OF NATURE One hour of communion and solace with her Is foretaste of heaven that naught else can give, And he who would be God's true worshiper With the links of his creatures should knowingly live. Every rock is a treasure, each pebble a gem, Though its luster to many may never be seen It forms for true lover a bright diadem, To crown cheery Nature as earth's fairy queen. The vines of the valley and flowers of the field, Coniferous trees and herbs of the wild, Bring garlands and crowns that gratefully yield The blessings of health and of joy undefiled. Who, who can remain unimpassioned and lorn 'Mid the beauties that deck the earth as a bride? Who, who the bright astral heavens can scorn, When the cohorts of starland the firmament ride? On the marge of the ocean of infinity That rolls through unknown, unlimited space, Let my eyes the beauties of Nature e'er see, And my heart, the design of a Kind Father trace. Then, then let my tongue a sweet song employ, And blent be its cadence with chimes of my soul, Till the concert shall fill my being with joy, While the echoes of Nature intuitive roll. Sweet Songs Silently Sung ' When evening shadows settle down Around my cottage door And twilight gently drapes the town, The meadow, and the moor, SONGS OF NATURE 19 There come upon my memory- Some scenes of long ago With perfume from a sacristy Whose portals none can know- Save him whose life and being were A counterpart of mine, Whose thoughts, emotions, actions are Shaped to the same design. ,■ / To wander o'er those hills so fair And through the stately wood Whose buds bestowed blossoms most rare In lavish plenitude; To sit an hour by singing rill And listen to its tone Till all my being it doth fill With music like its own, Is like recalling that fair home By God to man forbidden, And hearing angels bid me come Back to man's primal Eden. Each rock hath power to speak to me, Each tree, aeolian tongue, The brook for half a century To me hath sweetly sung. The wild rose and the columbine A perfumed language speak, The stately oak, the soughing pine, And willow lithe and meek Join in a trio keyed to notes Caught from angelic strains, Lifting the spirit till it floats On waves of song-refrains. 20 SONGS OF NATURE The lay of lark and lilt of wren, The jargon of the jay, The madrigal of robin when His lady lists his lay, The sonnet of the bobolink When poised on trembling wings, And when beside the streamlet's brink His ditty sweetly sings, Are echoed on and on and on Through memory's magic ear, Bringing anew sweet songs long gone And scenes of yore so dear. The thrush's ballad sweet and clear, The chippy sparrow's song, The blue bird's "Cheery, cheery, dear", The oriole's hymn so strong, The catbird's evening chant of glee, The veery's roundelay, The redwing's cry of "Ok a lee", The kingbird's clack of prey Are sounds of music to be heard, By memory's silent ear, When fancy pictures field and bird, As they in life appear. Sweet, sweet to call through memory now Past songs of stream and bird, Sweet, sweet as tones of lover's vow Are voices long since heard; And forms as fair as earth e'er knew That winged themselves away, Through memory's lense again we view Though transient be their stay. SONGS OF NATURE 21 They each and all a mission have A service sweet, divine, And he who heeds may joyous live Amid such songs benign. Dear Crescent Hills, so fair, so free, Whose every nook I trod, Loved temple of the Deity P5 Choice dwelling-place of God, Thy sylvan bowers and singing streams, ff Thy walls of granite strong, Thy valleys where warm sunlight gleams Thy fragrant flowers among Are all, are all instinct with song, And fraught with melody, For Nature's harps to thee belong Well-strung for minstrelsy. Fair Crescent Hills, thou that hast sung So many songs to me, When I thy scenes have roamed among, Impels this song to thee; How can my muse be silent when Thy songs were lavished me ? How can the impulse of my pen Refuse to grateful be? Could I an anthem sing sublime To charm the choirs of heaven, For thee in measured, choicest rhyme It gladly would be given. Loved Crescent Hills, when last mine eyes Beheld thy crown so bright, Bathed in the splendors of the skies Emerging from the night, 22 SONGS OF NATURE My heart forsook its dwelling-place Within this transient clay, To bask upon thy smiling face, And in thy radiance stay; Mine eyes looked longingly to thee Through lenses dimmed by tears, As thy fair form called unto me In voice of by-gone years. Kind Crescent Hills, may my fond feet Soon press thy sides again, May I the wild flowers fair and sweet Pluck in thy sylvan glen; May I beside thy streamlet's flow Hear music sung for me In cadence sweet, divine, and low As erst it used to be; Then my fond heart will sing again, Again abide with me, And join in concert the refrain Of bird and brook and bee. That Cottage by the Stream I am dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, Such a sweet, entrancing dream, Wherein lights of home are gleaming From a cottage by the stream That once sang and danced so cheery When my childish heart did seem Of the smiles of heaven aweary, In that cottage by the stream. SONGS OF NATURE 23 Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, Of happy days gone by, Flowing stream, fair meadows, The dome of azure sky, Field and flower and forest In beauty most supreme, But to me the dearest Is that cottage by the stream. I am dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, Of a voice angelic, sweet, Gentle eyes with love-light beaming That once more mine eyes do greet, Bringing back a train of glory To my heart, in a brief dream That recalls the sweet, sweet story Of that cottage by the stream. Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, Of sacred scenes of yore, Sweet as breath of heaven, Oft wafted from that shore Where the perfumed presence Of remembrance brings a tear Sweetened with ambrosia, From a heart pure and sincere. Blessed dreaming! Blessed dreaming Of the days of long ago! Tears of joy mine eyes are streaming Bringing solace with their flow; As my heart enjoys in vision, Hours it gladly would redeem From the past, the sweet elysian, In that cottage by the stream. 24 SONGS OF NATURE Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, Of trifles light as air, Magnified through dreaming Into a rapture rare, Till the soul ecstatic A song itself doth seem, Keyed to notes seraphic By music of that stream. Tarry, tarry with me dreaming, Tarry while in you I see Eyes maternal on me beaming Love and hope and sympathy. Tarry while a voice is singing Songs that lull me while I dream, And I see the flowers clinging To the cottage by the stream. Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, Of happy days of yore, Eyes upon me beaming, Save in my dreams, no more, Streamlet gaily gliding In sunshine all agleam, Loved ones still abiding In the cottage by the stream. A Merry Stream There's a merry stream that flows by the door Of the house where I used to play; It laughs and it sings as it dances o'er Bright pebbles that lie in its way; SONGS OF NATURE 25 With fair, fragrant flowers its banks are abloom And it revels in joyousness At the zephyr's breath that wafts the perfume That is born of their loveliness. The bobolink dwells near its brink all day, And oft on his balancing wings, While poised in the air, pipes a roundelay That across the wide meadow rings; Then winging away to the lily that bends O'er the nest where his lady-bird broods, Her home and her birdlings he bravely defends, Assailing each foe that intrudes. Bob White has his home on its borders, too, His whistle so loud and clear Is heard on the air, though he comes not in view, We know that his presence is near. His symmetrical form and bright, brown coat Give a charm to his company, His coyness of manner, clearness of note Add a zest to his jollity. But far beyond these comes a joy to me While the brook still goes babbling on; Sweeter than flowers and bird minstrelsy Are the voices of loved ones -gone, Who dwelt by the banks of that purling stream, The waters of which them beguiled, Whose voices I hear in transport of dream As they were to me when a child. That beautiful stream forever shall flow, And the bird-songs never may cease, 26 SONGS OF NATURE The flowers on its banks for ages shall grow, Their beauty and numbers increase, The song of the stream may unchanged be, Till the rent earth shall yield its dead, But the voice of its laughter brings unto me What my soul has so comforted. Sing, beautiful stream, bloom, fragrant flowers, And birds, pipe your sweetest song, Skies, smile on those magical, sylvan bowers Around which fond memories throng; But my vision-eye and my memory-ear Have pictured a scene for me, And tuned my soul its music to hear Far dearer than all these can be. The songs that are sung in the silent night, That my soul-ear alone can hear, And the scenes that afford the greatest delight When my soul-eye discerns most clear, Are the echoes and views of the present and past, United and blended in one, Till the rainbow of joy is over me cast And I bask in the smile of their sun. Dear, merry stream, that flows by the door Of the house where once I played, Save on memory's ear your songs no more To me are in joy essayed, But forever your tunes shall form a part Of the music I love to hear, And your melodies shall soothe my heart Though your presence be not near. SONGS OF NATURE 27 Memory Scenes I can see the brown leaves falling From the maples near the door, I can hear the cattle calling As in happy days of yore, When I wandered in my childhood O'er fair hills and valleys wild, Seeking through copse and wildwood The enjoyments of a child. I can see the clear stream gliding 'Neath the ancient bridge of stone, Hear the happy waters singing In that old familiar tone That lulled me in those happy days When life was in its spring And Nature sang her roundelays In almost everything. I can see wild asters growing 'Neath the spreading maple trees Whose crimson crowns are falling At the sighing of the breeze. They are just the same, I'm thinking, As they were in days of yore, When my frame was daily drinking Draughts of health from Nature's store. I can hear the cock's shrill crowing And the cackling of the hens, Hear the distant cattle lowing In the meadows and the glens, 28 SONGS OP NATURE See yon wooded hills fast sleeping, Waiting for my coming feet, All their wealth of beauty keeping In outlines most complete. I can hear my heart-beat, sighing For an hour among them all, Feel my mental pulse replying To the sounds that to me call; And when long shadows falling Bring on the starry night, It is sweet to be recalling Such joys through mental sight. Nature's Voice Each tree and shrub, each tiny flower That grows in woodland, fen, or field, Has a voice that calls aloud to me, And a modest beauty half concealed, That lulls my soul with a sacred strain Of music sweet, divine, and low; And paints for me the richest hues That blend in fairest sunset-glow; It speaks not as a tongue can speak, Its voice is softer, sweeter far Than tones that fall from minstrel-lips, Where devotees of fashion are. Each cloud that flecks the evening sky, Or bears a rainbow on its face, Is a message from the Deity, Whereon the mental eye may trace SONGS OF NATURE 29 The Artist Hand that paints for man The grandest scenes to mortals known, And tilts heaven's canvas, just enough, To give an insight to that throne From which the richest of designs Are hung in the celestial dome, To win from earth the soul of man, And lead it to a better home. The surge that breaks upon the shore, Then backward to the sea recoils, Tells with its deep, majestic roar That purity comes from its toils; And while its spray is high in heaven, And strand is trembling from the blow, Unto that surging wave is given Such life as Nature would bestow Upon the terror-stricked worm That sees not, knows not the design That sent the purifying storm, To prove to man a care divine. Hang Nature's map before mine eyes, And Nature's scroll on yonder heaven, And solved are many mysteries Surrounding sacred precepts given; The thunder-peal is but the voice Of Nature calling for redress Of wrongs that her design annoys, And asking surcease from distress; And yonder orbs that brightly shine Are but the lamps to light the way To that fair realm whose light benign Assures us of eternal day. 30 SONGS OF NATURE The thunders of an avalanche That terror brings to vales below; The groanings of a glacier staunch Beneath its weight of ice and snow; The roarings of the frost-king strong Within the bosom of the lake; The echoing moans the cliffs among When Vulcan wills the world to shake, Are voices of Creation's Sire, Whereby is taught to puny man, The wisdom and benign desire Of him who did creation plan. The silent voice of silent night, Heard only by a conscious soul That kens the span of wrong from right, Yet holds such poise in its control; The whispering of a summer breeze, Perfumed with fragrance rich and rare From banks of Flora's argosies, That float upon us unaware, Are Nature's calls to man to be His arbiter 'twixt wrong and right, Choose for himself his destiny — Eternal day or endless night. The Second Sunday in May Softly the breezes dance o'er the meadows, Wafting the perfumes of sweet-scented May, Flecked are the fields with sunshine and shadows, Telling so gently of earth's perfect day. SONGS OF NATURE 31 From moss-covered rock whereon we are seated, Nature spreads scenes such as art cannot yield, With flowers of rare beauty our vision is greeted, Our ears with the bird-notes from forest and field. Dogwood with tints from pink to pure whiteness, Columbine crimsoned with pinnacled sheen, Pinks of carnation, and orchards in brightness, Vie with fair meadows in velvety green. The bobolink chatters in notes of perfection, The oriole sings a love-song to his mate, The whip-poor-will clings to his perch for protection, The crow laughs ha! ha! when the evening is late. Squirrel and humming-bird flit by like spirits, Jack-in-the-pulpit stands ready to preach, The roll of the anthem the wood-choir inherits Surpasses the harmony mortals oft reach. The song of the bird-note, the hum of the bee, The tinkling of waters, the bursting of leaves, The perfume of flowers, the blossoming tree Are sermons from Nature the pulpit ne'er gives. My soul sings with these, with these has communion, They lift me in thought to realms pure and bright, They speak of a Nature with which to have union Dispels deepest sorrow and yields pure delight. Every sigh of the breeze, every note of wild bird, Every plant that springs up from the earth's fertile sod, Is a sermon of eloquence when rightly heard, That soothes me and brings me nearer to God. 32 SONGS OF NATURE Who basks in their sunlight, and drinks with the flowers The life waters flowing from spirit above, Shall smile when the wing of the death-angel lowers And sing songs of gladness his triumph to prove. The Old Orchard in May (To Music) My heart turns with longings, when May-day draws near, From the turmoil and strife of the city so bare, To the sweet-scented orchard, so quiet, so dear, Where childhood was happy and knew naught of care. (Chorus) Old orchard so dear, where in childhood I played, Your spell holds me yet in your charmed embrace, So fragrant your blossoms, so balmy your shade, No rival can ever your scepter displace. For fairy feet spread was your carpet of green, By angel hands wrought was your canopy blue, While nymphs from the leaves and blossoms between, Form magical mazes of exquisite hue. On velvety sward at fair eve to recline, And gaze through your boughs far into the sky, And fancy that heaven knew no joy like to mine, Was ever a pleasing though strange phantasy. Old orchard at home has a charm yet for me; Though branches have fallen and gone to decay, I recall with delight the ecstatic glee My childhood enjoyed at each blooming in May. SONGS OF NATURE 33 My childhood love lingers and grows more intense; As orchard and I fall into decline, Its perfume to me seems a holy incense, And its blossoming bough, supremely divine. Though friends now surround me whose presence is dear, And true hearts are found wheresoever I roam, No spot unto me elsewhere can appear So sweet as that old, dear old orchard at home. The old orchard at home has an augmented charm As years in succession roll rapidly by; And a halo of joy illumines the farm, Which can fade not away till the day I shall die. Could I choose but the place and the time when shall cleave Thef spirit I bear from its mouldering clay, T were a transition less, could I quietly leave From the orchard at home, in sweet blossoming May. 'Tis Hearing the Time for Arbutus 'Tis nearing the time for arbutus, The time when my fancy takes wings And transports me off to the mountains, While my spirit in ecstasy sings Of the sweets that blush there in silence, Half hidden beneath moss and leaf, And of incense ascending to heaven From blossoms too rare and too brief. 34 SONGS OP NATURE Fancy calls up the copse and the heather, Where petals of pink and of white Shyly peeped from their perfumed seclusion And fancied themselves out of sight; But fragrance betrayed their concelment, Distilling itself on the air, Till the breeze, charged with sweetest aroma, Confessed to their coy presence there. O, beautiful flower of the heather, So modest, so dainty, so fair, So coy only eyes of your lover Would look for your sweet presence there; You deign not to dwell near the city, But to bloom in deep solitudes, In courts where bright fairies revel And dance with the sprites of the woods. There's an incense as pure and as holy In remembrance of friends and flowers, And the joys that encircled our being In the heyday of life's halcyon hours, As that which ascends from the altar Where priests holy sacrifice bring, And choirs, in harmonic measures, The anthems of holiness sing. To recall the fragrant arbutus, And the presence of friends of yore, Who with us searched hedges and tangles For that sweetest and daintiest flower, Brings a thrill of ecstatic pleasure, Into which a thousand charms blend, Thus soothing the soul into rapture, Like return of a long-absent friend. SONGS OF NATURE 35 'Tis the time for trailing arbutus; The shadows of cloudland float by; The earth her bosom is baring To the sun and the tears of the sky; Warm spirits angelic awaken The breast of our dear mother-earth, And the daintiest daughter of heaven, — Dear Trailing Arbutus has birth. Could I hie me away to your presence, And dwell for a season with you, And drink from your rural seclusion The nectar of blossoms and dew That floats in the air, charged so fully With incense that you have distilled, My soul would expand into rapture, My longings for bliss be fulfilled. Who Loves Devoutly Nature Wild Who loves devoutly Nature wild, And sees in her the Master's hand, Will seldom be a wayward child, Though foul temptations 'round him stand; Magnetic forces draw him back From following low and vicious ways, His soul revolts at the attack That foe of Nature — Vice, displays. Who, who would trust a soul so base It cannot joy in Nature's store Of boundless charms of wilderness, And thunder- tones of ocean-roar; 36 SONGS OF NATURE Feels not a hallowed presence born In quiet vale where flower and fern Send up their incense night and morn, As recompense for day's return? The crystal stream within the vale Where human foot hath never trod; The peak to which no man can scale, Whose only presence is its God; The forest dense where shadowy pine Obscures the light of sun and moon; In harmony with heaven's design To Nature's harp their songs attune. The songs of the inanimate Are not devoid of rythmic sound, Nor are they soulless, desolate, In which no melodies abound; Obedient to their Maker's laws, They hymn aloud to mother-earth The secrets of the First Great Cause, By which a universe had birth. The Natural Science Girl She rambles hill and valley, The woodland and the lawn, Sometimes at dewy evening, Sometimes at rosy dawn; She seeks no boon companion Save bugs and birds and bees, The wild flowers of the meadows, The rocks and grass and trees. SONGS OF NATURE 37 She sees the robin nesting And hears his bridal-song, As he pipes his dainty ditty So plaintive, sweet, and long, To cheer his loved one's labor And lull her into rest, Till the blue eggs give from bondage The birdlings to the nest. She knows the note of catbird Whose mate is nesting near, How he chatters eager warning, Intensified through fear, As a crafty, cunning serpent, With his captivating eye Holds his lady catbird In a charmed captivity. She knows the food and habits Of reptiles, bugs, and worms, Whether they're pests or profits, — Man's helpers or his harms; Whether on fruits or plants they feed, Or live in armored walls And prey upon each other Like human cannibals. She names the moths and millers And gauze-winged butterflies, Has catalogued the spiders, Counted their legs and eyes, Has analyzed the glowworm And nocturnal fire-fly, With their lamps of phosphorescence And star-like effulgency. 38 SONGS OF NATURE The snails and toads and lizards, The water-bugs and frogs That live in marsh and meadows, In swampland and in bogs; The bees and ants and crickets That swarm within the grass Are all by her inspected Through a magnifying glass. Though katy-dids and locusts And crickets never sing, They swell a mighty chorus With the vibratory wing, Till the meadows, fields, and forests These orisons combine In a grand, sweet improviso, Entrancingly divine. Each sound from living creature Expresses joy or fear, But Nature's student only Is true interpreter Of all the tones and cadences That float upon the air, To tell of joys ecstatic, Of sorrow and despair. Each rock and tree and streamlet, Each nook and quiet glen, Is a pulpit of the Deity, Carved by the Master's hand, From which the myriad millions Of insects, birds, and bees Send up their daily orisons In glorious symphonies. SONGS OF NATURE 39 To linger in their presence, To interpret them in song, Is a sweeter consolation Than to join a human throng That sings in a cathedral grand, And swells with pomp and pride, While bending at an altar Where mammon's deified. The blessed inspiration Of hours with such as these, And close communion with the flowers, The mosses and the trees, Lift the soul, the mind, the being, To joys akin to heaven, And afford the purest pleasures That God to man has given. The lowest of God's creatures Has being not in vain, But fills the niche assigned it According to His plan; We may not know the reason Why life to it was given, But He who it created May have for its heaven. That it has life and being An evidence must be It had its emanation From the Great Deity, Whose hand made nothing useless, However rude its form, Whether spirit angelic, Or but a lowly worm. 40 SONGS OF NATURE The health of mind and body, pfThe wealth of soul and song Are found in field and forest The living things among, Not in the maze of fashion — V" Society's gay whirl, — But out with Nature's goddess, The Natural Science Girl. Reflection When heliotrope and roses Abroad their perfumes send, And brilliant hues of myriad flowers In harmony shall blend; When music's diapason sweet Floats from the trembling strings, And vibrant keys of organ grand Send out their offerings; When twilight fades into the night, And memory claims the hour For sweet seclusion's solitude With all its magic power, Then summon back life's early years, Recall fond scenes so dear, And gather joys from memories, Though they may bring a tear. When brilliant gems in evening's crown, With scintillations bright, Reveal fair realms, else never known Through darkness of the night, SONGS OP NATURE 41 And all the jewel-hosts on high Tell of their Maker's love, And all those spheres of brilliancy In grand procession move To music sung by angel choirs Without a note ajar, And naught of friction, discord, strife The harmony to mar, What mind and heart unmoved can be, At such entrancing train? What tongue, by silence, can refuse To join the sweet refrain? When on some mountain-peak we stand While clouds float far below, And rocks above are hidden quite 'Neath sheets of crystal snow; Or when mid-way on mountain side, The wild flowers bloom in spring Beside the singing rivulet June's sunny days shall bring, While at its base in loveliness, The earth is richly dressed In all the pomp and pageantry The tropics e'er possessed, Who does not feel his pulses thrill With ecstasy profound, Smile on the handiwork of God, Such mountain scenes surround? When by the ocean's marge we stand While waves break on the shore, Urged by the fury of the storm, Until their sullen roar 42 SONGS OF NATURE Seems like ten thousand thunder-peals, Merged into one deep tone, And trembling beach and angry sky Reverberate the groan, And crests of ocean waves so white, Caught by the howling wind, Are cast far up among the clouds, Where winds and waves combined, Give to the yeast-like foam on high Strange forms of fearfulness, Then puny man shrinks in dismay At his own feebleness. Niagara in thunder-tones His voice sends up to heaven, And paints his radiant bows of peace Upon the mists which, driven By his own breath, dance gracefully, In a procession fair, To music of aquatic gods That dwell in beauty there. Incessant since from chaos sprang The earth and ocean wide Has been the thunder of his voice, The surging of his tide; Incessantly from founts above, He draws aquatic store And like all living things of earth, Receives from God his power. From quiet scenes of lowly life, A leaf, a twig, a straw, A tiny flower born most obscure, A lesson we may draw; SONGS OF NATURE 43 Each fills its niche in Nature's plan; Each has its work to do; And murmurs not, makes no complaint At life it must pursue. And when its purpose is fulfilled It gently falls to sleep, To waken at the Master's call, And all His bidding keep. Thus plant and stream, and mountain grand, Each thing upon the earth, Has in each self a purpose pure, Why it was given birth. Be calm, my soul, and listen well To Nature's song and voice; Her teachings are designed to make Her devotees rejoice. It matters not where one may be, On mountain height or plain, Her song is true to her own self, And sweet is its refrain; The thunder of a mountain storm, The sighing of a breeze, The tinkling of a tiny bell, The roar of angry seas, If heard aright are lessons given By Nature unto man, To teach him her beneficence And majesty to scan. Thrice happy he who reads aright These lessons in his youth, Who learns through Nature's teaching fair The beauties of her truth, 44 SONGS OF NATURE And folds them closely to his heart Until he shall expand Into the fullness of that joy Her light and love command; Until he shall drink from her cup The nectar gods distill For all who quaff their thirst with her And her behests fulfill; Until his sunset life shall be With radiance aflame, And with Truth's lamp to light his way, His heritage shall claim. Reverie In reverie sometimes one's fancy Turns to scenes of earlier days, Sweetly, fondly turns them over, While within the heart-beat plays Music sweet, so long remembered, Sung by brooklet in the wild Where he wandered, searching wild flowers When a blithesome, happy child. Field and bird and flowing river, Tree and rock and purling stream, Reappear toward life's fair sunset As a sacred, hallowed dream, Lifting gently Time's thin curtains, That around the present cling, Till youth's ecstasy returning Makes the soul enraptured sing. Mossy bank and streamlet flowing, Shady nooks where silence reigned, SONGS OF NATURE 45. Skies with azure so entrancing Views of heaven are almost gained, Come again as erst in childhood, While instinctively the ear Lists to catch familiar cadence Of a voice it longs to hear. Silent are the voices human, Only the inanimate Are possessed of present function To our souls articulate; Changed, so changed are all save Nature; Youth and manhood long, long gone; Rocks and trees and streamlets, only, Uninterruptedly live on. These shall lull the hearts of millions Who may sometime prize their worth, These shall charm the sage and poet Yet unborn upon the earth; Here unchanged may be the music Of the ever-flowing river; But the voices of our loved ones, Shall be hushed on earth forever. In the great unknown hereafter Special joy, perhaps, 'twill be, To revisit rock and river, And the sacred trysting-tree ; To revisit scenes now hallowed Over which we fondly brood, Giving foretaste of yon heaven, While reposing in such mood. 46 SONGS OF NATURE Sunset Softly the tints of the expiring day Tinge the clouds of Hesperian heaven, Leaving a trace of the sun's mellow ray To escort the day into shadows of even. The curtains of Phoebus are fully drawn, Yet his splendor has left to sight A trail of enchantment to linger till dawn, To charm the still hours of the night. Scenes of such cloud-land often reveal A grandeur that soothes the soul; Heaven has no beauties it seeks to conceal, No secrets inscribed on its scroll. Through the earth for an age we may roam, And through space our fancy may fly, Yet no beauty ever can unto us come Surpassing the God-painted sky. When we think of the forces displayed To prepare for a cloud-scene at even, Of the elements deftly arrayed That a gorgeous effect may be given; Of the mists and the winds and the light, Of the blendings no artist can teach; Of the mysteries hidden from sight, That the knowledge of man cannot reach: Of the order, the purpose, design, Of the pictures that hang in the sky; We must know that the hand is divine, That arranged such effulgency. SONGS OF NATURE 47 Then faith lifts the curtain that hides The spirit that ordained the plan, And assures us He ever abides To bring peace and joy unto man. At sunset my spirit shall sing Of the beauties the elements yield, And my heart shall an offering bring To the Artist of sky and of field. When I from this dwelling of clay Shall depart to that unknown sphere, May it be at the close of the day When the glories of sunset appear, Then a light shall shine from God's throne Through a tilt of the innermost door; And I recognize faces well known That have joyously gone on before. Soothingly, sweetly comes unto me, The thought that my soul may rest In a land whose glory shall be Like cloud-scenes that glow in the west. What my mission shall be when there I know not, not may I here know, But, waiting, I patiently may prepare To reap from my planting below. A Faded Leaf A thoughtful mind may lessons draw From faded leaf or broken straw; 48 SONGS OF NATURE May beauty see in some lone star That cheers the storm- tossed mariner; May note, in solitude, some sound Wherein soft harmonies abound; May hear no voice from human lip, Yet dwell in blest companionship. Tis not the brilliant things of earth That have the most intrinsic worth; 'Tis not the fairest meteor That flashes but to disappear; But that which yields a steady glow And fills the soul with joys that flow From Nature's storehouse full and free And leads the mind her truth to see. 'Tis not the tongue whose promises Are fiction-fraught, and flatteries To charm the trusting ear and heart, Regardless of the pain and smart, And agonies of dark despair Its foul deception planted there, That should be cherished, trusted most, And made the heart's confiding host. Fair Nature scorns a painted lie, A tongue of deep hypocrisy, A soul inverted by itself, In the pursuit of worldly pelf; Enough for her to paint the real, Her truth she never will conceal From him who would her secrets know, And lovingly her spirit woo. SONGS OP NATURE 49 Artist Nature When Aurora springs from her couch of clouds, And opens the gate of a perfect day, And her father, Sol, in his daily rounds Advances his light toward Polaris' ray, Then the vernal bloom and the warbling bird That follow his track as he speeds along, Send a fragrance pure on the morning air, And fill leafy grove with frolic and song. Oceanus lends invisible bowls, Well-filled with vapors that rise from his breast; Eurus is summoned to waft them afar, And scatter them over the distant west, When Sol with his brush and an artist's touch, Paints on the sky all the glories of heaven, In colors more bright and blendings more true Than ever by mortal to canvas was given. One sunset scene in Hesperian sky, When the canvas of heaven is all ablaze With the glorious tints, and the pageantry That, to mind of man, so clearly portrays The wonderful skill of Omnipotent hand, And the tender touch of a boundless love, Is an omen true — an infallible proof — Of a Deity wise who presides above. Spread Nature's fair canvas from pole to pole, And mingle earth-mists with the solar rays Of the dying day, till a perfect scroll Shall spangle the heavens, and kindle a blaze 50 SONGS OF NATURE Illuming the courts of the throne above; Artist Nature, then, will stand, brush in hand, To tint every scene with a sacred love, And stamp with the seal of the Master Grand. A Quiet Nook I often long for some quiet nook, Away from the noise and strife That come from the steady daily round That absorbs my busy life; Away in some shady forest Where silence is supreme, Save the song of feathered minstrel, And the laughter of a stream. Far away among the dark shadows That form Fauna's trysting-bowers, Where my soul may drink of the perfume That floats from the plants and flowers, Where alone with my heart and Nature, Sweet converse I may hold, There gathering strength for the duties And cares that around me unfold. How sweet are such hours of seclusion, Away from the hum of the world, Where the tensioned nerve is rested, Where the mental flag is furled, Where the ear and the eye aweary, No longer by trials oppressed, Join the soul in a happy elysian, And bask in the sunshine of rest. SONGS OP NATURE 51 Could one wish for a better heaven, — An Eden devoid of sin, — Than that unto mortals given Where the turmoil and strife and din Of life's tensions are laid aside, — And the soul and the mind both free, — And Nature comes in to preside At the banquet — tranquillity? The Star Perhaps that star in yonder sky May be my dwelling-place on high When life on earth is done; At eventide I love to gaze Upon its soft effulgent rays When silent and alone. Its brightness charms and draws my soul By some mysterious, strong control I cannot well explain, Unless it be within it dwell The friends of earth I loved so well Who could not here remain. Its scintillations fervid, bright, Are more than coruscation's light From forge and anvil cast, When new creations God prepares For him who here his likeness wears, And moulds with fervent blast. It may be in that star so fair A home for me God will prepare, And open wide its door 52 SONGS OP NATURE When all my work is finished here, And he shall call me to appear With those long gone before, Bright star of beauty, shine, shine on, Reflecting smiles from those long gone And light from loving eyes, That cheer me while I tarry here And pilot me with lamp sincere To home in your fair skies. Shine on, shine on, dispel the gloom That hovefs 'round an earthly tomb Where mortal man must rest; Light the immortal to that home To which your brightness bids us come To be forever blest. A Cricket's Song As a cricket sang his song to me On a late September eve, The tone had a sadness in it That over my spirit did weave A spell of gloom, at the requiem He sang in his solitude, For the dying year, the fading leaf, And flowers by frost subdued. His song was sung with a broken wing, And the droning sound it gave Was akin to the saddest requiem That croons o'er the wintry grave SONGS OF NATURE 53 Of the insect throng, whose work is done, Whose lives are passing by, As the touch of icy-fingered Death Stills their joyous minstrelsy. That song was an echo of his life, Poured forth at his passing hour, A message sent, in thankfulness, To the fading leaf and flower; Yet his frosted wings and stiffened limbs Bade not his votive song to cease, But tuned his chords to vesper hymns, And to dying notes of peace. Autumnal Insect- Songs Autumnal gloaming's insect-song From vibrant wings or tuneful voice Of the unnumbered, happy throng Of soulless creatures that rejoice Amid the grass, the shrubs, the trees, And sing their orisons sublime, Surpasses oft the harmonies Of choruses in measured rhyme. Entranced with joy, the raptured ear Selects some soft and soothing tone Of song it would be pleased to hear, If sung in freedom and alone; And yet the blendings are so sweet, Cadence so soft, so pure, so low, The song would languish incomplete, Were any sound enforced to go. 54 SONGS OF NATURE 'Tis sweet 'mid Nature's swarms to dwell, And hold communion with the wings That in their joyous action tell Their humble, thankful offerings To the Great Giver of all good, And chant their dirges ere they die, In peaceful, joyous solitude, And thankfulness to Deity. Autumnal gloaming, fraught with sound Of saddened sweetness born of death, Ten thousand charms with you abound, In insect-song and zephyr-breath; Attune my ears to catch the strain That flows mellifluent from the throng That sings its dearest, best refrain As life ebbs out in joyous song. So may I sing, at life's decline, The sweetest songs mind can conceive, The melody, perfect, divine, Should on and on, forever live; And laying down this earthly trust, Calmly await life's blissful even, Knowing that dust shall claim its dust, And spirit find its home in heaven. Such songs as these be mine to sing, When last mine eyes shall look upon The sunset of life's evening, And all my work on earth is done. Nor should the insect's vibrant wings Respond to faith's unfaltering trust, With sweeter songs and offerings, Than should my soul-illumined dust. SONGS OF NATURE 55 Sing on, sing on, sweet insect choir, And teach my soul to sing a song, That shall all mortals so inspire Earth shall become a minstrel throng, With tongues ecstatic, chanting praise To Him who made and clothed the field And set the dome of heaven ablaze With astral worlds to us revealed. To a Mountain Brook Shy sylvan spirit singing so sweetly, Dancing to measures that flow in your song, Frolic your fairy feet faultlessly, fleetly, As down the mountain vale speed you along. Babbling buoyantly by banks and bushes, Laughingly onward you hie to the sea, While at your mossy sides joyously gushes Fountain's from Nature's bowl, healthful and free. Naiads and Nymphs hold revels at midnight, Dancing to music that comes from your flow, Dryad and Faun peep out at the moonlight, Through rents in green curtains that over you grow, Here would I pour my soul out in wooing The spirit that dwells in your charmed home, Here would I linger gladly, if knowing My waiting would lead it, at last, to come. Let me while with you here learn of the spirit Of peace and comfort abiding in you, Then shall my nature truly inherit A love for the beautiful, joyous, and true. 56 SONGS OF NATURE Offspring of truth and joy, ever singing Of purity born in the cloudlands above, In your descent to man ever bringing The harvest of health and fruitage of love, Sing to me sweetly of home in yon heaven, And teach me how such transition can be From the taint of the gutter, by earth, to you given, To the rain's crystal drops and the snow's purity. "The smile of the sun and the warmth of his love, Divorce me from ties by earth-dust defiled, And ere I can rise to the fair realms above, I must cleave from all refuse by which I was soiled." Mountain Brook Beneath the shade, deep in a dell, Where fairy spirits ever dwell, Away from haunts of men, A living thing of Godly birth, By Nature's law, springs from the earth, To gladden vale and glen. Ten thousand fairies clad in green, Enliven the sequestered scene With noiseless dance and mirth, And minstrelsy of heaven conspires With liquid laughs and wind-played lyres, To charm mortals of earth. The rocks and trees bedecked with moss, And quivering leaves with silvery gloss Drink from the dancing spray, SONGS OF NATURE 57 Which rising from the seething foam, Seeks its bright ethereal home, And smiles on orb of day. No discord here my spirit jars, No artful smile my comfort mars, For Nature's self is true; Here beauty, grace and peace conspire, To make my inmost soul desire A heart with kindred view. Who dwells in such companionship Builds fountains whence the soul may sip Heaven's sweetest gift to man; Sees beauty reign as God designed, Has purer love for all mankind, And lives near Nature's plan. Loved mountain brook, so pure, so true, I'd rather spend an hour with you And harmonize my soul With the sweet melodies you sing And all the joys your concerts bring Than sit where flowing bowl And jocund laugh of merry crowd, In accent wild, profane, and loud, Break on the midnight air, For you bring peace and joy and rest, Refreshment for a mind distressed, And banish grief and care. Your songs by flowing volume keyed, Measured in accent and in speed O'er rough and rock-ribbed bed, 58 SONGS OF NATURE Are melodies from choirs of heaven, To Nature's child divinely given To be interpreted. Your treble notes and deep-toned bass Are modulations in the race You run toward goal of sea; Attuned by rock and fall and strand, To music mild or thunders grand, Your songs bring joy to me. Here can the tensioned nerves find rest, Here can the mind with cares oppressed Find surcease from all strain, And here the soul may solace find To strengthen body, spirit, mind, For toils and cares again. When I shall sleep my final sleep, Fain would I rest where you will keep A tuneful voice for me; Then to my spirit will be given That foretaste of a blissful heaven, — Nature's sweet harmony. To Trinity Lake, Poundridge, N. Y. Fair Trinity, heaven's emerald gem, Set in a royal diadem Of beauty, greater far, Than ever graced the head of king, More brilliant is thy glistening Than blaze of brightest star. SONGS OP NATURE 59 I love thy shores of sylvan green, Thy crystal waves of heaven-born sheen, Thy mirrored clouds and wood, Thy bays and nooks of silence, where I all alone ofttimes repair In blissful solitude. Deep are thy waters pure, serene, Lying the hills and woods between, Reflecting cloud and star Sd perfectly upon thy breast, Heaven seems inverted and at rest, Where thy fair waters are. When summer comes, to ply the oar And gather flowers along thy shore Is pleasure undefined; But when fair evening sends her breeze, Perfumed with fragrance from the trees, Come bliss and health combined. Supreme delight to woo thy side, And feel to the'e I am allied, By ties in heaven born, To all this matchless scenery, And boundless charms that come to me, From haunts that thee adorn. When I shall sleep on yonder hill,* My spirit life shall hover still Around thy rippling wave, Denying Death to break the bond That holds me here, will hold beyond The confines of the grave. ♦Interlaken, the family cemetery, is on the hill between the lakes. 60 SONGS OF NATURE Oceanus' Mirror, Trinity Lake, Poundridge, N. Y. I've been charmed with many a picture That has brought its maker renown, I have looked on beautiful valleys From a mountain's lofty crown; I have gazed on the sky at evening When the heavens were all aglow; But they fail to yield me such pleasure As this scene in the waters below. Fair Trinity lay in her beauty, Not a ripple was on her breast, Her borders with hemlock and mosses And beautiful flowers were dressed; Clear as the air on her bosom Were her waters so pure and so deep, They seemed like the magical mirror That Flora and Nereus keep. Where the rocks and the trees hang over The marge of her western shore, My boat glided slowly onward Without the aid of an oar, When glancing my eye to the shadows Reflected from shore near at hand, There appeared a clear panorama, So mystic, entrancing, and grand. Down, down, far down in the waters, And touching the brink of the lake, Was a picture no master-painter With pencil or brush could make; SONGS OF NATURE 61 Gray rocks, green trees, and bright flowers, Inverted and magnified, too, Seemed perfect in all but proportion, And their upturned, chimerical view. It seemed like a fairy enchantment Inviting to feasts down below, Where grottoes and caverns of beauty Illumined the flowers that grow To charm the nymphs of the waters, And beguile the shy sylvan elves To the banquet of Old Oceanus, Where guests ever help themselves. Some spirit seemed calling me sweetly, Inviting me there to partake Of the fanciful pleasures reflected Far down in the clear, placid lake. O beautiful scene of reflection! So perfect, so grand, and so pure, In my mind that mirror enchantment To the end of my days will endure. October The dying year in beauty stands Embellished in her best attire, Holds garlands in her lavish hands, Kissed by the sun's declining fire, Till blushing hues commingling, Blend colorings with sober green, And by such union gently lend Enchantment to the fairy scene. 62 SONGS OF NATURE The sumac and the goldenrod Blend with wild asters many-hued, While bitter-sweet and ivy nod To zephyrs sighing through the wood; The alder crimson-beaded stands The blithesome, babbling brook beside, And in such royal robe, commands, The love of his fringed gentian bride. The dying year is richer far Attired in her resplendent dress Of golden crown and crimson star And all her mottled loveliness, Than infant spring in swaddling bands Of many-shaded, verdant hills, And meads far-stretching o'er the land On which the breath of seas distills. The dying year like dying saint Emits a halo 'round its head, Stands glory-crowned, makes no complaint, And seeks not to be comforted; Like soul-illumined man, each tree Stands bright within its Maker's glow, Reflecting a divinity To brighten all the world below. The dirge is sung by insect choir, Attuned to notes supremely sweet, Expressive of a calm desire To make thanksgiving song complete; Then wrap each self in dying bloom, Surrender life to Him who gave A golden wreath to be its tomb And lasting peace within its grave. SONGS OF NATURE 63 The Stream's Story I sat me down in a forest old Beside a low-murmuring stream, And lent my ear to a tale it told, That was more than fancy's dream. It told me of days when the earth was young, When it flowed more cheerfully, When its waters sang the rocks among, As they danced on toward the sea. "In those ancient days my banks were filled, Nor shrank I from heat or frost, For the shaded, moss-crowned earth then held The waters that now are lost. "The old forest then stretched far away, And its sheltering arms embraced Sweet perfumed plants and flowerets gay, Whose smiles long since have ceased. "The sturdy woodman plied his blade And that forest old laid low, Now, the burning sun, from the want of shade, Has robbed me of my flow. "When clouds discharge, my waters roar And my spoils are sad to see, For the earth-vaults, where I kept my store, Hold no surplus now for me. "Man's greed for gold my beauty marred, And robbed me of my joys, But I sing again with hope restored When I see the girls and boys, 64 SONGS OF NATURE "Who come with their songs in merry May, O'er valley, hill, and plain To plant young trees on Arbor Day, So, in joy, I smile again. "When the earth was young I blithely sang And danced in my mirth and glee; My music then through the forest rang, As I bounded on to the sea. "My song again I will gladly raise If my banks are filled for me; And I'll chant in lays the children's praise When they come my flowers to see." Arbor-Day Tribute (Set to Music) With lavish hand our God has spread Beauty and fragrance o'er the land, His smile revives the seeming dead, Nature awakes at his command. He breathes upon the leafless tree, He whispers to the tiny flower, His touch awakes the slumbering bee, And each obeys the Almighty power. The perfumed breeze of smiling May, The dancing stream on mountain side, The wild bird's trill of joyous lay, Proclaim His goodness far and wide. SONGS OF NATURE 65 Attune our hearts to sing Thy praise, Expand our souls to comprehend Thy attributes and all Thy ways, And be to us a Guide and Friend. We plant today within the mould The stock that needs Thy tender care, Send deep its roots, its buds unfold In answer to our faith and prayer. And when these limbs shall wide expand, And twigs their myriad leaves shall bring, May thankful hearts beneath them stand, And birds among them sweetly sing. May men here learn to feel and know The beauty, grace, and majesty Of trunk and twig and leaf and bough That form his blessed friend — a tree. The Rose When dewy morn of balmy June Awakes and blushes in the east, When song-birds pipe their sweetest tune, And Nature spreads her grandest feast; Among the rare and fragrant plants Whose petals most of heaven disclose, In foremost rank — far in advance, There stands the sprightly, smiling rose. Its home is on the wide, wide plains, In valleys where wild torrent foam, In solitudes where silence reigns, And by the cotter's humble home; 66 SONGS OF NATURE It cheers alike the rich and poor On Alpine heights and by the sea, By castle wall or peasant's door, — It justly claims ubiquity, Could blushing beauty born of heaven, Or world-wide worship win the prize, Could fragrance, fancy, fame, or even The rich rays of reflected skies Soothe sorrow's sharp and scorching sting, And give the world complete repose, Then men should shout and children sing, "The flower of State must be the rose." The Goldenrod When August sunset's yellow blaze Streams out o'er meadow, field and lawn, It seeks some shrine wherein its rays May linger till return of dawn; And touching gently with its sheen That graceful plumage of the sod, Its constellated gems of green Are changed to glorious goldenrod. Its home is in the sterile soil. Deserted by the rustic swain Because it yields not for his toil The recompense he would obtain; By wall and ledge and rock and mound, Where'er neglect and ruin reign, In greatest beauty there 'tis found, To cheer and clothe the earth again. SONGS OF NATURE 67 Down in the soul there dwells a thought That finds expression not in word, That counts display and promise naught, Unless a voice divine is heard That speaks to cheer the desolate, And yields a balm distilled from God, Whose type should be the flower of State, — The sun-lit, heaven-born goldenrod. Buttercups and Daisies Buttercups and daisies, Bright children of the lawn, To the fields are nodding In the winds of June. Such beauty of the meadows Yields a charm so sweet, so strong, The robin's spirit breaks aloud In animated song. Buttercups and daisies Bloom adown the narrow lane, Beside the brook in pasture, And over the wide plain; Tangles in the meadows Where ten million flowers bloom Draw bee and bird and butterfly, With their beauty and perfume. Buttercups and daisies, Aglow in morning light And pendant dew-drops sparkling, — Bright diamond born of night, — 68 SONGS OF NATURE Send a matin greeting To the rising god of day, As he warms them gently With his golden ray. Buttercups and daisies Are jewels to be worn, By all the sons and daughters To Nature truly born. They speak a perfect language, They lead to the divine, They cheer the weak and weary. They strengthen and refine. Buttercups and daisies, — Stars of a mundane sky, — That shine in every verdant field, And smile as we pass by; You've strayed away from heaven, To cheer our lonely earth, Dispel its gloom and darkness, To hope and joy give birth. Buttercups and daisies, With golden, waxen wings, To which the breath of angels So softly, sweetly clings, They seem a part of heaven, That unto earth has come, To draw the mind of mortals Toward an immortal home. Buttercups and daisies May softly o'er me bloom, When I am sweetly sleeping Within my quiet tomb; SONGS OF NATURE 69 And when by mortal beings I may forgotten be, Bright buttercups and daisies Shall bear me company. The Dandelion Meadows are dotted far and wide, With velvet stars that bring A golden offring of delight, — Flower-goslings of the spring. Then gray-haired pappus downy, soft, Follows with pistils loose, And the gosling of the early spring, Becomes a white-fledged goose. Its feathers float on every breeze That fans the verdant mead, And children count the hours of day By breaths that waft the seed. Soft, silent Time, that comes apace, To human flowers that bloom, You quickly change youth to old age, And lead life toward the tomb. Thus human ties and human lives Fall at the silent breath Of Time's fell touch, obedient Unto the call of Death. Bright turf-born goslings of the field, Teach me to smile, and give A perfume from a fragrant soul That on and on shall live. 70 SONGS OF NATURE Teach me to nestle close to earth, And find sweet solace there In golden deeds of countless worth, And converse pure and fair. Then shall I know the modest power That lies in you concealed, — The golden crown and richest dower Your lessons have revealed. The Fringed Gentian I remember well, in my boyhood's romp, The beautiful flower I found near the swamp, With its spiral screw Of cerulean hue, While on the marge of its petals grew A fringe such as art cannot weave. I plucked it with zeal, for my heart was aglow, Its color and form my mother to show, And gladden her eyes With the exquisite prize, I had found when autumnal zephyr sighs, 'Mong the faded flowers and leaves. Fair emblem of maiden adorned as a bride, The tintings of heaven upon you abide, You smilingly stand In bridal robe grand, For a lover who proffers an ardent hand, And a heart that never deceives. When others have left us, we cherish the one Who remains firm and faithful until all is done; SONGS OP NATURE 71 Though cold be the storm, The heart is e'er warm For the tried and the true who weave such a charm 'Round the heart of him who receives. I remember the hour when the beautiful flower Seemed fraught with the fragrance of mystical power, As I bore it with pride To my mother's side, To learn to what genus of plant 'twas allied, Then left it for her to admire. Its beauty to me was increased by a tear That fell from the eye of my mother so dear; An angel from heaven, To her could have given No treasure surpassing the gentian that even, I had placed so joyously by her. The Anemone Modest, meek anemone. Loved wind-flower of the spring, You fill our hearts with gladness, For with your smile you bring The vitalizing sunshine, The fruitful April shower, The pipe of feathered songster, And bud of sylvan bower. Your eyes are the reflection Of yon ethereal blue, That veils the courts of heaven And hides from us the view 72 SONGS OF NATURE Of gardens whence you wandered, When to the earth you came, Bringing a type of beauty That heaven alone can claim. Your stay is all too transient, Your beauty fades too soon, But while you're passing by us You put our hearts in tune, For other days that follow Your evanescent smile, Remembrance of your presence, Will sorrow's stings beguile. Trailing Arbutus Under the brown leaves meekly abiding, The queen of the spring-flowers nestles away, In copse near the wood, there covertly hiding It basks in the glow of Aurora'a first ray. Where moss and leaf are strewn in profusion, — A bed whereon gods would gladly repose, — Apart from the world, in rural seclusion, The pride of the moorland, — arbutus grows. In mossy fields, 'mong refuse and bushes, With rose-tinted lips, like the dawn of the morn, With only a leaf to conceal modest blushes, Earth's first vernal offspring — arbutus is born. Modest, retiring, and beautiful sprite, — Emblem of graces a maiden should wear, — Great is the pleasure, supreme the delight, Of searching and finding a sweetness so rare. SONGS OF NATURE 73 Child of the woodland, in beauty abiding, Your breath scents the breeze of early spring morns, And fairies of magical charms are residing In the nooks and valleys your presence adorns. Oft in the springtime I wander away, To dwell for an hour in your blest retreat, Counting such pleasures far sweeter to me, Than the bustle of city and throng of the street. Here in your presence my soul can enjoy That converse and freedom, by God to man given; Here body and mind themselves may employ In quaffing of pleasures akin unto heaven. Let me hie to your presence and drink from your pool The nectar of peace, contentment, and rest, Assuaging thereby the thirst of my soul, While pressing you fondly unto my breast. A Pansy I found on the lawn at the ancestral home, An exotic plant graced with smile rich and rare, And charmed with its sweetness, its meekness and bloom, On my bosom I would forever it wear. Instinctive with life, there was joy in its smile, Its eyes, full of meaning, seemed speaking to mine, Its meekness and coyness my soul did beguile, With a message it brought from a spirit divine. 74 SONGS OF NATURE Each line of its face was aglow with the fire That burns on Hope's altar the incense of love, And its cherubic cheek expressed a desire, Its mission of kindness and comfort to prove. Fair flower of the garden, bright elf of that lawn, Much, much like humanity in you I trace, Within you the glories of Hope sweetly dawn, And angels have painted a soul on your face. The Morning Glory (On Presenting Morning Glory seed to a friend) The sunshine seems much brighter, And the heart is ever lighter, When the rays of sweet Aurora, Paint the radiant Morning Glory, With a splendor such as heaven To few favorites has given Among the beautiful, rare flowers; So plant these seeds with care In a place well chosen, where The first rays of the morning May kiss their bright adorning, And teach your heart to see The rare beauties there may be In the rosy, blushing, morning hours. There's food for thought in every leaf That spring unfolds to pleasure's eye; There's wisdom in the falling drop That had its birth in yonder sky; SONGS OP NATURE 75 The breeze that fans the fevered brow, Or gives new vigor to frail man, Is but the breath of the Divine, Fulfilling His benignant plan. Rye When pollen-dust from fields of rye Floats out on the dews of even, And the stars of June bedeck the sky Of a mild and cloudless heaven, Tis ecstasy to linger near The odor-laden quivers, Whose lance-like arrows then appear To be those fragrance-givers. When Luna bright is wreathed in smiles And breathes upon the flowers, A billowy greenness oft beguiles The mind by magic powers; For like the waves of ocean grand When tempest winds are high, With speed sweep by the waves on land Across the fields of rye. Fragrant are fields in lovely June, Whose billowy, graceful green Is a memory-gem that fades too soon, Youth and manhood between; Sweet were the hours of ecstasy, Beneath fair stars and sky, That came in boyhood days to me, From the waving fields of rye. 76 SONGS OF NATURE The Flowers I Love I sometimes think I love the rose More than all other flowers, Because its fragrance falls on me In copious, dainty showers; And blushing in its modesty, I press it to my heart As the idol of my dalliance That never shall depart. But when I see the lily fair, — The meadow's fairy queen, — Surrounded by her myriad friends, All dressed in Nature's green, My heart goes out in ecstasy, And naught on earth to me Seems fairer type of loveliness Than this daughter of the lea. When bright snow-flake-petaled daisy, Whose heart of yellow gold Is richer vein of pure delight Than mining-kings may hold, Sends out her invitation warm To search in her domain For berries tinged like bleeding heart, How can I well decline ? And then, the graceful goldenrod With flaunting, sun-lit plume, Whose lateness lends a special joy And richness to its bloom, SONGS OF NATURE 77 Invites me with its wind-blown nod To be its devotee, "With honesty I must confess It has a charm for me. There's a heaven-born flower — the aster — That drinks nocturnal dews From September's chilly fountains, And steals the sunset's hues; It smiles from way-side tangles, And coyly casts its eyes, Yet holds me by its modesty A voluntary prize. I know not which I love the most, — I know I love them all, For God hath given each its grace And each its special call; Each has its mission to perform, Its purpose and its end, And sweet is the companionship Of each bright flower friend. Nature has printed the largest book That eye has ever seen, Filled it with pictures true and fair, In white and gray and green. She hands it free to all mankind, — • Noble, generous deed, — But few, from its pages bright and rare, Have ever learned to read. 78 SONGS OF NATURE What Flowers Say On receiving an envelope containing lilies-of-the valley and forget-me-nots but no writing In form it is a letter, Unique in its every part, Holding a concealed fetter To enchain my willing heart. No pen has marred its beauty, No ink has traced a line, It does its silent duty As a messenger divine. Upon its page is written No English, French, or Greek, But the universal language That flowers alone can speak. The colors are pure whiteness, And tints of azure blue, Excelling in their brightness All shades art brings to view. The Lily-of-the-valley And the sweet Forget-me-not, That grow where perfumes dally In sweet, secluded spot, When sent to tell some story That words cannot express, Are fraught with special glory And sweetest tenderness. SONGS OF NATURE 79 Their perfumes speak of gladness, Their colors, of delight, They drive away dull sadness, Turn darkness into light. They link the heart of sender To heart to which they're sent, And unto both will render The sweetness of content. I love them for their clearness Of whiteness and of blue, But added to such dearness Is the thought — they came from you. No language ever spoken By tongue to dearest friend, Excels, in worth, this token That you in flowers send. While I press them to my bosom Their fragrance fills the air, And my fancy fair pursues them To the hand in which they were. They are language plainly spoken, Like the language of the eyes, They are Nature's choicest token Of heart-beats that I prize. Let me lay them on the altar Of my heart, and keep them there As a leaf from sacred psalter, — As the incense of a prayer. 80 SONGS OF NATURE And when long years have rolled£away, And we are far apart, The fragrance of their giving may Be solace to my heart. These flowers may their odors lose, Their colors may depart, But fragrance born of them shall ooze Forever 'round my heart, And beauty such can never fade From memory's magic eye; But like the soul, cannot be laid Where lifeless dust shall lie. Rufus Poor but honest, bent by labor, Solitary, kind of heart, Seldom seen except by neighbor, Dwelling from the world apart, Holding converse more with Nature Than with fashion's giddy throng, Rufus lived, and loved each creature Whether mute or sweet of song. Leaf and flower of tree and meadow, Thorn and rose companions were, Whose aroma, beauty, shadow, Made him their charmed worshiper, Drinking from them draughts of pleasure, Feeding on them soul and mind, They to him were richest treasure He on earth desired to find. SONGS OF NATURE 81 In the garden where in boyhood Passed he hours happy, free, Clothed in beauty there in joy stood A revered old apple tree, 'Neath whose branches at life's sunset He from toil reclined to rest Lulled by music of a streamlet And by memories sweet and blest. Here he conned of long-departed, Counted years since they had gone, Felt the stings of age that darted Through his frame, since he alone Lived to see the graves of kindred, One by one, slowly increase In Death's Acre, while he lingered Longing for a sweet release. May-day sun and bloom of apple, Songs of birds and azure skies, Came with Death to soothe his grapple When he claimed this earthly prize And released his soul from union With its tenement of clay To enjoy a sweet communion Freed from mortal agony. Rufus heard Death's summons gladly, Dissolution brought no fear, Spoke nor looked he sternly, sadly, But in accent soft and clear Prayed that sprays of apple-blossoms Be companions at his side; Pressing them close to his bosom, Smiling sweetly, Rufus died. 82 SONGS OF NATURE Soul and perfume to their Maker Have ascended from the earth Served their mission here together, Meek and humble though their birth. Each has filled the niche assigned it, Menial though it may appear, At the finish each resigned it As a faithful minister. Who shall say that greater glory Is awaiting princes, kings, Who have written in life's story Annals of triumphant things, Wrought by sordid, proud ambition To extend a royal throne Than is held in reservation For this lowly, meek unknown? Sad may be a talent wasted Bringing scanty good and gain, Sadder still is talent blasted By the blood of victims slain To increase ambition's glory, Or secure augmented power On ensanguined fields made gory By the sword of conqueror. He who sees in man a brother And extends a brother's hand, Loves each plant of field and heather Born to beautify the land, Tunes his ear to song of Nature Till in such his soul delights, Cherishes and loves each creature God endowed with natal rights, SONGS OF NATURE 83 Lifts his soul above ambition That his neighbor would defraud, Builds through faith and works transition To a life majestic, broad, Cultivates his mind and spirit Till a joy they shall attain Such as angels pure inherit, Has not lived his life in vain. The Invitation The strawberries now are aglow in the field, The robin is singing there, too, In the copse where she sings her nest is concealed With its eggs of delicate blue. She is calling to you, She is calling to me, To come there and view The rapt harmony And beauty that there are revealed. The strawberries daintily, modestly blush In their covert of grass so green, And the woodlands resound to the lyric of thrush Though seldom his brown coat is seen. While he's calling to you, And is calling to me, To come out and view Fair flower and tree, And taste berries the gods most esteem. The strawberries look on the sun bright and fair, And blush at the smile he returns, Till aroma-like incense floats on the air, And a flame on their altar burns, 84 SONGS OF NATURE That brings health to you, And brings health to me, If in spirit true, Like berries we be Aflame in the sunlight they share. The strawberries blush and the bobolink sings, Where lilies and buttercups nod To zephyrs that breath of the warm tropic brings, To enliven the else sterile sod. It is just so with you, It is just so with me, For Nature is true To her devotee, Impartial are gifts from her God. The Birds I Love I love to hear the song-birds sing When they return in early spring To gladden field and grove; I love to tune my ears to notes Wafted from happy, feathered throats Of birds I dearly love. The blue-bird's "Cheery, Cheery, Dear", Is vernal note I love to hear Presaging winter past; His song allays the storms of March That through our vitals seem to search In piercing, hungry blast. The robin's softest lullaby Flows into magic minstrelsy At the approach of morn, SONGS OF NATURE 85 And all the world is hushed to hear His liquid notes so soft and clear They seem of heaven born. The oriole divinely sings, And spreads his gaudy, velvet wings, Where pear and apple bloom, Then builds his slender, pendant nest, Where birdlings may in safety rest Amid sweetest perfume. The thrush from top of lofty tree Enjoys an hour of revelry Presaging coming storm; Then seeks a thicket dense and low, A hedge or bush where brambles grow To shield him from all harm. The joyous, jolly bobolink Into the grass will sometimes sink Aflame with raptured song, Then slowly rising on the wing Like an ethereal, heaven-born thing, His jargonings prolong. I listen oft with great delight To whistle clear of dear bob white Coming from rock or tree, Or to his sound of whirring wings As from some covert near he springs And hies away from me. O dainty, modest, chippy dear, Your songs so sweet, so soft, so clear, Seem more than notes of bird. 86 SONGS OF NATURE All through the long, long summer day From field and copse your roundelay Like seraph-song is heard. Mercurial wren, — fair sprite from heaven, To you a clarion-voice is given Through all the live long day, You never tire of song and wing Or cease your joyous jargoning Till daylight fades away. And when the night enfolds the hills, I love the chant of whip-poor-wills That comes from the dark woods, Where Pan and Nox their revels hold, Dancing upon the moss-grown wold, Where come no solitudes. The Orioles The beau and the belle of the birdland in spring Have built them a nest, on the pear tree to swing, With finest of fibre and softest of thread It is woven and fastened to twigs overhead, Its texture of velvety barks intertwined Is a model of beauty and safety combined, Where eggs and the birdlings may swing to the breeze Or bask in the sunshine with comfort and ease. When blossoms with perfume fill the May air, And the birdlings are nestling securely there The oriole's song of rejoicing is heard In musical rapture supreme, till the bird SONGS OF NATURE 87 In voicing and spirit seems minstrel from heaven Aflame with the melodies unto it given, To draw mortal man from earth to the sky With its exquisite charm of bird-minstrelsy. While singing and swinging the blossoms among His joy overflows in a lullaby song So pure and so sweet that enraptured we hear The notes of his melody laden with cheer As they float on the air of bright, balmy morn Whose fragrance and music in heaven are born And wafted to earth on oriole-wing To be blent with the songs and blossoms of spring. That bright meteor flame on radiant wings That coyly retreats but exultingly sings Is a messenger sent by the gods of the grove The beauty and transport of birdland to prove, And the thrills of enchantment born of its note Are sweet benedictions that earthward float To care-laden souls to lull them to rest And draw them toward heaven when sorely distressed. Fair bird of the springtime, sing sweetly to me Your lullaby song from the blooming pear-tree, And teach me your patience, your zeal and your skill, That I to the world may my mission fulfill, May soothe deepest anguish with songs of good cheer, May lift up the fallen, may dry sorrow's tear, May lend to the helpless ones comfort and aid And welcome what e'er may come, calm, undismayed. 88 SONGS OF NATURE Song of the Vireo "Vireo, he ah wall", thrills on the balmy air, ' ' "Here we go, see you me ?" the soft May breezes bear, Till tangles copse and forest ring With notes so sweet and clear That fancy's realms where fairies sing The song enchanted hear. "Vireo, he ah wah", clear as a silver bell, "Here we go. See you me?" the woodland echoes swell, Till lichened rock and laughing stream The joyous notes prolong, Waking the hills from spring-time dream With echoes of that song. "Vireo, he ah wah", down by the spring we hear, "Here we go. See you me?" so distant, yet so clear, That joyful ear and eager eye Distrust the place of song Knowing such charms of minstrelsy To fairy realms belong. "See you me, virago?" inquiringly he sings, "Let me see. You I know - ', from yonder tree-top rings, Then like a spirit from above Descends on silent wings And holds an orgie in the grove In dainty jargonings. "Viero, he ah wahs" are now no longer heard, The miracle of music is changed into a bird, SONGS OF NATURE 89 Whose tune has all its sweetness lost Through contact with the earth And gone is all it valued most. — An unmolested mirth. In thraldom, in danger, no song is ever sweet, Happy environments make life, at best, complete, No matter what all else may be, Some note will be ajar While life from danger is not free, While fears its pleasures mar. Chidley Wink— The Blue Jay "Chidley wink, chidley wink, clink, clink, clink. Chidley wink, chidley wink, jay, jay, jay!" Comes from the tree-tops in jargon distinct At the birth of an autumnal day Till resounding forests far and near Take up the strain and bear it away While chattering throats repeat so clear, "Chidley wink, childey wink, jay, jay, jay!" Chidley wink's coat is of royal blue And covers his body gracefully. The crown of his head is of the same hue And polished to perfect brilliancy. Insects fall by the sword of his beak, — Largely this soldier feeds upon prey, — His war-cry alarms the timid and weak, "Chidley wink, chidley wink, jay, jay, jay!" Chidley wink hides in some hollow tree Chestnuts and acorns he needs for food When storms of cold winter howl sullenly And insects no more are found in the wood. 90 SONGS OF NATURE But when the sun of a wintry day Gilds all the earth with its fairest ray From the tree- top high these words he will say. "Chidley wink, chidley wink, jay, jay, jay!" When snow is gone and spring draws near, He seeks a tree in the deep solitude Where he builds a nest and has no fear Of the wanton hand of the robber rude, And there in the tree-top, far from boys He rears his young and with them will stay And teaching these notes his time he employs, "Chidley wink, chidley wink, jay, jay, jay!" The young chidley winks sing the same song, Dress themselves just as their parents dressed, Fly for pastime the same trees among, Build in the tree-tops the same kind of nest. If young chidley winks could be taught to think Then other words than these they might say: "Chidley wink, chidley wink, clink, clink, clink, Chidley wink chidley wink, jay, jay, jay!" If you would not be a young chidley wink, Never improving, since days of the ark, Then follow his ways and never more think, And the world to you will be lonely and dark. Follow him not, but spread mental wings And bring to your mind Truth's cheering ra And when to your soul Advancement sings, Say "Goodbye, stupid chidley wink, jay!" SONGS OF NATURE 91 The Thrush When on mountain road I travel, Stained with dust from rock and gravel, In cool shade I sit me down, Oft I see among the bushes Feathered friends — shy brown thrushes Sweet, sweet singers of renown. Smooth his coat though brown and dusty, Mellow his voice yet ever trusty And clear and soft and sweet. On the tree-top oft he's singing, Through the woods his song is ringing While hills afar his notes repeat. I have heard him in the morning When the sun was first adorning Tops of tallest forest trees Pour his soul of song so tender That to God it seemed to render Thanksgiving harmonies. Every feather seemed to quiver As his song he did deliver In bursts so sweet and grand, That all Nature there did gladden As the air with music laden Seemed fraught from choral band. Some notes that swelled his speckled breast Were like soft zephyrs from the west That come from June-blown flowers, 92 SONGS OF NATURE So full, so sweet, they lull the soul And like a spirit voice control Fond reveries for hours. Soul of song, enwrapped in feather, Harbinger of Hope and weather, Sing softly unto me; Your tuneful notes at morn and even Are antepasts of joys in heaven That bring felicity. Attune your joyous songs for me And lift my soul that I may see The world in beauty bright; Sing on, sing on, until the wood Shall laugh aloud in merry mood And sadness take its flight. Sweet warbling bird, in brown attire, Your notes of joy do me inspire With love for Nature wild. Your songs of joy so sweetly sung By heart and throat divinely strung, Proclaim you Nature's child. Robin Redbreast Low and sweet and plaintive, Now distant and now near, Seems the voice of Robin Redbreast That in the tree I hear. Sometimes 'tis but a murmur So gentle and so sweet It sounds like dying zephyr That echoes doth repeat. SONGS OF NATURE 93 And then in bursts of music That make the forests ring Comes the swelling, happy, ditty His birdship loves to sing. That voice is so enchanting, So perfect and so clear, All earth stands still to listen And clouds bend low to hear. Again he tunes his liquid notes To winds in tree-tops sighing, Or to sounds of laughing waters That 'mong the rocks are hying. The sprightly, sweet ventriloquist Deceives you as to distance, You sometimes think him far away Beyond alarm's resistance, And then again you think him near The place of your abiding; He's in the same place all the time In covert coyly hiding, And telling you in happy notes His mate is near-by nesting, While in the shade of leafy tree He watches her while resting. Had I so sweet a voice as his I'd carol all day long, Charm with my presence all mankind, And cheer them with my song. 94 SONGS OP NATURE The woods and fields should echo far My choicest minstrelsy, And earth and sky would then unite To join the revelry. Robin is a Singer Robin is a singer; supremely sweet and clear Are the notes he warbles from his covert near; Softly, oh, how softly, at the sunset's glow Chants he evening vespers plaintive, sweet, and low. Robin is an artist; he beautifies the stream, The vale, the hill, the meadows, until they truly seem To glow, because his presence gives to each a tongue To echo back the music his minstrel throat has sung. Robin's a ventriloquist; piping mystic strains, Intermingling sonnets and madrigal refrains, Till the air is vocal with his joyous song, And the echoing valleys his melodies prolong. Robin is a minstrel, a troubador, a bard; He sings and chants such music as poets never heard. His songs and orisons sublime intuitive are sung, Yet all his trills and quavers to harmony belong. Robin is a robber and raids the cherry tree, But pays all back a thousandfold in canticles to me; No matter what my bill may be, the balance's on his side, For cherries never him can pay for songs at eventide. SONGS OP NATURE 95 The Lone Bird Whither away on such winged undulations, Breasting the winds and the tempest's wild glee, Lifting your form in graceful vibrations, As onward you move like a billowy sea? Alone, all alone, on wide wing extended, Nerved for the tempest that sounds not afar; Night her dark mantle o'er earth has suspended, Through which cannot shine the light of one star. Stop, lonely wanderer, and tell me why mateless, Tell me the story, and tell it me true, God, e'en a bird has not left so fateless But somewhere there lives a companion for you. Tell me if death has robbed you of treasures That sweetened the tone of your vesper song; Tell me if fears have destroyed all the pleasures, That justice and right say to you should belong. Tell me, yes, tell me, and tell me truly, Is there just cause why your flight is alone? Is there some stain whereby you are duly Debarred from the pleasures that should be your own? Still but your wing and confide me the story, Chant it to me in a short, plaintive song, Perhaps it may speak of a sweet, transient glory That faded and died 'mid disaster and wrong. 96 SONGS OP NATURE Perhaps I may speak some word that has healing For solitude's wounds, though sweet they may be, For sorrows augment by sacred concealing Till they steal from the heart the wish to be free. Dear, roaming bird! You have stopped at my pleading, My soul aids my ears to catch your sweet tune ; "If life is not sweetened by culture and breeding, 'Tis better by far to travel alone. "I have learned as my wings have borne me through groves Where gods their ambrosial nectar sip, That the heart's best experience ever proves joy comes not from presence, but companionship." Songs I Love To wander all day by a purling stream That flows through a mossy dell, And watch its silvery waters gleam, And list to its music's swell, As it dashes adown some wild cascade, On its race to the wide, wide sea, With sweeter strains than Orpheus played, Is supreme delight for me. To hear the song of a mother bird, As she sings her lullaby To the nestlings ere her note is heard, Commanding them to fly, SONGS OF NATURE 97 Is music sweet as a note from heaven, And brings a joy to me That no minstrel band has ever given, However skilled it be. The hum of a bee by a sumac bush That blooms in a forest wild, The tinkling of waters that freely gush From Nature undefiled, The feeble note of a cricket's wing, As his orison he plays, Are sweeter songs than minstrels sing When deep in fashion's maze. Shatamuck — The Hudson River Away, far away in a mountainous home Is a cradle wherein lies a child of the sea, Whose father, Old Sol, brought it out of the foam And consigned it to wings of wind, wild and free. This invisible chariot bore it on high And wafted it on by caloric power, Till fanned by a breeze in the upper sky, It descended to earth in a copious shower. Though shattered and torn by wind and by earth, With filial affection 'twas richly endowed, Till on Marcy's bleak side a lakelet had birth And the child sweetly slept in the Tear-of-the-cloud. On this Alpine height it was rocked by the wind And canopied oft by an angry sky, While gray rocks and green woods around it combined To soften the tones of the storm's lullaby. 98 SONGS OF NATURE With a home so pent for an athletic child Whose impulse is growth and a wish to be free, The cradle was burst and in rumblings wild It sought its fond mother, — the wide, wide sea. Adown Alpine aisles augmented by age, Beside balmy banks of briar and brake, Calm in concealment or noisy in rage Downward and onward it sped from the lake. Ever enlarging and growing in strength, Feeding from fountains unseen and unknown, Gathering volume and power, till at length Heard is its voice like a deep thunder-tone. Ingenious men there a harness prepared, Joining skill with attraction to serve at their will, Knowing wherever such forces are shared Lightened is labor at forge and at mill. Meeting embrace from the maternal sea, Navies of war and of rich commerce ride Onward to ports where the world's argosy Pours out her off'rings of treasure and pride. Queen of all rivers, enthroned in a land Rich with the fruitage of vineyard and field, Stretch forth a strong and beneficent wand The health and the wealth of the Nation to build. Under the semblance of justice and right Veiled be no selfish and servile foe, Waiting the joys of the people to blight; Xerxesdike, — God will such plans overthrow. SONGS OP NATURE 99 Young, we are sometimes cradled 'mid clouds, Zealous, we burst our confines so small, And casting aside our encumbering shrouds On the billows of life we rise or we fall. The way may seem rugged, meandering, wild, The beetling cliffs may frown on each side, The human stream may with wrong be defiled And noxious foes spread their venom wide. Yet a hidden stream from an unseen source, Whose waters assuage all the venoms of strife, Flows steadily on in its silent course Bearing comfort and peace to a holy life. As a drop from the clouds, cradled on high, At last finds its home in the ocean wave, So the frame-work of soul seeks not the sky But returns to its natal home in the grave. As a drop from the clouds lives on and on, And returns to the ocean whence it came, So the soul when its mission on earth is done A home with its Maker God may claim. Onteora On the horizon, in the Catskill Mountains, N. Y., from a point between Catskill Station and the City of Hudson, on the easterly side of the Hudson River, looking westward may be seen the form of a human body resting upon its back, as in sleep. This form has long been known as Onteora, a fabulous Indian chief who, having lost his happy hunting grounds and his kindred, has lain himself down in despair, to rest. 100 SONGS OF NATURE Onteora sleeps in silence, Resting on his rocky bed, Feet to southward far outstretching, Northward points his granite head. Till the lofty Catskills crumble, There in silence he shall sleep, While the clouds and rocks and eagles O'er his slumbers vigils keep. Limned upon the dark horizon, West from central Hudson's tide, That grand form of Onteora There in outline shall abide. He shall outsleep Rip Van Winkle; Onteora ne'er shall rise, But with face upturned to heaven Slumber 'neath those rock-kissed skies. Such a substitute for heaven Is the best earth can afford, For the mountains, skies, and rivers Are the dwellings of the Lord. Hymned upon the air of morning Are the songs of cliffs and trees, Tuned in cadence and in measure To the zephyr, tempest, breeze. Thunder-peals and bolts of heaven Murky clouds and angry skies, Cast no bodings o'er his spirit, Bring to him no agonies. SONGS OF NATURE 101 Sleep, brave chief, your race has vanished, Hidden is its dust from view, It alone will be remembered By this granite form of you. Winter's frost and snow and tempest, Summer's bloom your couch may strew, Earth be shaken to its center, But all these are naught to you. In the great, the great hereafter, You may find a hunting-ground Where no foe — no rude intruder — In its confines shall be found. When the Catskills shall no longer Be the bed whereon you rest, God a better couch will offer To the worthy, pure, oppressed. Then if you have filled your mission, — Humble though that mission be — Kept the light of Truth still burning, You your Manitou shall see. Evening at Kingston, N. Y. The low descending sun has touched The mountain peaks far in the west, A deep dark blue surrounds their base, But golden sunlight gilds their crest, While varied shades of Alpine green Proportioned to their forms and height Blend softly, as, from peak to peak, They yield a spectral charm to sight. 102 SONGS OF NATURE The drifting clouds above the peako Cast floating shadows on the green, And bursts of sunlight interspersed Give mottled shades to vales between; The mountain-shadow's lengthening forms Obedient to declining sun, Draw down the curtains of the night, Proclaiming thus the day is done. The heads of giant mountains fade Into the darkness of the night, Till outlined on horizon's screen Are forms grotesque to fancy's sight; And vision builds a fairy-land And peoples it with beings fair, When star-eyed Nox lends all her charms And lights heaven's dome with radiance rare. Fair Wittenburg, well carpeted With mottled moss and fringed fern Old Slide — jeweled conglomerate, — And Panther wild, rock-ribbed and stern, That stand as sentinels to guard Old Kingston at departing day, Your vesper shades bring joy and peace Which silent night takes not away. Happy are they who can commune With all the boundless charms you bear, Whose souls expand and soar and sing Touched by the majesty you wear, Who feel each bush and tree and rock Is but a brother in disguise Made by that wise, unerring Hand Which all His children recognize. SONGS OF NATURE 103 "Who sees no beauty in your forms And drinks no pleasure from the skies That gild your summits with a charm Akin to that of Paradise, As sunset draws night's curtain down And vapors tint advancing even, Would languish restlessly I ween "Within the inner courts of heaven. The beauties of the dying day That cast such glories far and wide Seem like the halos 'round the heads Of men who have been sanctified, "While all the blendings of those rays That beautify the grand design Of earth and heaven in harmony Are but the smiles of The Divine. Fair silent forms, so stern, so grand, You have a tongue with which to speak, A potent, yet benignant hand That lifts itself from every peak, Your tongue sings unto Nature's God, Your hand points to His throne, And he who loves your beauties rare Your Maker, too, must own. Cold Spring-on-Hudson, N. Y. Like Marathon she sits enthroned Between the mountains and the sea, "With Hudson flowing at her feet In all his liquid majesty, 104 SONGS OF NATURE And rock-ribbed giants towering high To discount rise and set of sun, She rivals in her scenery The beauties of old Marathon. The land of Scott and Marmion Whose rugged hills bore stalwart men, That kept old Scotia ever free Through bloody fields fought oft again, May find upon the Hudson's shore, Amid the Highlands of the west, A land of beauty like her own, A people of brave hearts possessed. Fair Switzerland, the home of Tell, Whose Alpine summits pierce the sky, While far below 'mong verdant vales Unnumbered lakes like mirrors lie, Your summer peaks are crowned with white While ours, though clad in living green, Are sweet remembrances of those Fair peaks that in your land are seen 'Mid towering crags and deep ravines The God of Freedom ever lives, For song of bird or mountain breeze A sacred inspiration gives To urge frail man to ever be What God for man at first designed, — A creature pure, noble, and free, Unselfish, dauntless, unconfined. No breeze that fans the mountain's brow, No wave that laves a sylvan shore, No song of bird the woods among, No flowers that forth their fragrance pour SONGS OF NATURE 105 Can fairer be, or sweeter smile, \ Than those that cheer this Highland scene, Where Nature sings on every peak And laughs in valleys them between. Here dwell the gods of sylvan scenes, Here muses grand their songs have sung, Here Nature flings her charms abroad And laughs in joy these hills among. Here ecohes vibrate on the air, Here fragrance floats on evening breeze, Here Happiness takes up her harp And yields her sweetest melodies. Nearer Heaven 'Tis well to bow the rev'rent head And bend the rev'rent knee, 'Tis well that God be worshiped In song and symphony, Where marble walls inclose a shrine Reared by a human hand, Where music breathing the divine Floats from an organ grand, Till all the atmosphere is charged With melody supreme, And all our being so enlarged We fancy heaven doth gleam Upon the borders of our sight, And God Himself seems nigh Emitting unto man a light From His own majesty. 106 SONGS OF NATURE Sacred and sweet are orisons Breathed in such holy place, Lifting the souls of sainted ones Who joy in its embrace Into a realm akin to heaven, — Into a raptured bliss; For unto such the keys are given That unlock Paradise, And all the joys that lie beyond In visions there they see, So thin are veils that then surround The sweet reality That lies upon the border-land, So near and yet so far, That Pilot Hope points to the strand Where promised treasures are. Go now from this to yonder grove Bedecked by God's own hand, With boundless treasures of His love And with His presence grand, That you may learn a lesson there By mortals seldom given, — That He who did this world prepare, Within it placed a heaven For him who sees and feels and knows The beauty and design That bud and leaf and flower desclose Through spirit of Divine; Lift the thin veil that hides from view His face, and there behold A jeweled crown prepared for you More precious than of gold. SONGS OF NATURE 107 List to the sound of vesper notes Hymned by the perfumed breeze, As from those sylvan harps it floats In softest cadences, To mingle with the chant of priest Surpliced in gaudy plumes, Whose incense-fragrance is increased By Nature's myriad blooms; Then ask your, soul where God abides And most Himself reveals, In pompous aisles where man presides And Nature most conceals, Or in the temples God hath wrought With wondrous skill and care And breathes His spirit pure, unbought, On all things centered there. Behold the lilies of the field That neither toil nor spin, Yet they a beauty greater yield Than templed courts, within Which, man from Nature is apart, Inclosed in gorgeous walls Bedecked with handiwork of art On which no sun-ray falls, And where no Kedron ever flows, No pure Siloam pool Wherein to wash away life's woes, Life's fevered brows to cool; No Tabor, no Gethsemane, No fishermen in stalls, No mountain sides of Galilee, But grand, artistic walls. 108 SONGS O NFATURE However grand those walls may be, However sweet the peal Of music 'round the sacristy Where holy men shall kneel, The spirit unto Moses given When on Mount Sinai, And when he heard a voice from heaven On Horeb's Mount pass by, Has lost much sweetness and much power Through pageantry and art, Whose gilded pinions hover o'er The impulse of the heart, To lure the soul and mind away From thoughts of holiness, And lead them to behold display That heals no soul's distress. Sing, sing God's gilded courts within; Blend voice with organ peal; To wash away the stains of sin, In suppliance then kneel; List holy word with earnest ear; With faithful, filial heart God's precepts wise gladly revere, Nor let them e'er depart; Such are but preludes to the song That Nature's voices croon. — But echoes from the brilliant throng Of spheres the heavens attune; — But transcripts rude from Nature's scroll Inscribed on sky and earth; — But hintings to the craving soul From Him who gave it birth. SONGS OF NATURE 109 The Trysting Tree On the bank of a stream that laughs in its flow, And sings to the mosses and lilies that grow In the vale of its charmed retreat, Stands a trysting tree whose wide spreading arms To Mollie and me bring love's sweetest charms; For there at the gloaming we meet To list to the song of the brooklet so free And tell of the joys of love's ecstasy, And love vows there fondly repeat. Chorus — That spot is a heaven to Mollie and me, For the song of the brooklet is sweet melody, And the wide spreading arms of the trysting tree Are angels of joy to Mollie and me. Where e'er we may wander, where e'er we may be, Our thoughts will return to that trysting tree When the gloaming o'ershadows the vale; When fragrance of lilies distilled by the sun Steals softly abroad as the evening comes on, And roses their perfume exhale, We think of the hour when we plighted our love, And sealed with the touch of our lips then to prove Our troth- vows and love ne'er shall fail. Sweet, sweet is the hour when the gloaming comes on, And stars in their glory expand one by one Till heaven is aflame with their glow; And sweet is the perfume of lily and rose, The song of the brooklet that joyously flows And dances to rhythmical flow; 110 SONGS OF NATURE But sweeter by far is the glow of our hearts, As presence and trust plume the tenderest darts That Cupid at mortals can throw. Shadows The sun in the west is descending Behind the steeple and tower While the darkness and light are blending Into twilight's enchanting hour; The lengthening shadows are losing Their definite forms, one by one, As the day that is gently dying Bids adieu to the golden sun. At my window I sit calmly musing And welcoming shadows that fall Athwar heart and mind, thus diffusing Some pictures I love to recall, Some scenes of varied blending Of sorrow, of joy, and of woe, Whether joyous or sad their ending, My soul will not let them go. Sometimes they are sweet, so entrancing, My spirit in ecstasy sings Of the realms where angels advancing Waft me gently away on their wings Till the portals of heaven seem near me And voices familiar I hear, Till shadows of loved ones cheer me And in fancy their forms appear. SONGS OF NATURE 111 Such shadows are solace lor sorrow However keen it may be, Are promises of a to-morrow When spirit from bondage is free, And thus when the shadows are falling And twilight is fading away, A spirit familiar is calling And my soul dares not disobey. When the sun in the west has descended, And the streets of the city are bright, When the toils of the day are ended And on come the glorious night, Alone in the twilight I ponder Of scenes and days long ago, Linking the past with the present Till my soul with the scenes is aglow. When the twilight and darkness have blended And stars in full glory appear, And lamp-like they seem suspended To illume heaven's realms so fair, How welcome the shadows that falling Have melted the twilight away, Till through darkness a voice is calling That tell of eternal day. Fishing The following poem — Fishing — was dedicated by the writer to Hon. Grover Cleveland, the Presiden- tial Isaac Walton of the White House, Washington, D. C. 112 SONGS OF NATURE In acknowledging its receipt, he said in part, "I have read with much interest the poem entitled Fishing which you kindly dedicated to me. "It is evident to me that you have the true fishing spirit, and I thank you for demonstrating it in such a pleasant way." His letter is photoengraved on the opposite page. The wind blows from the south to-day, Thin mare-tail clouds float by, The dome of heaven is now a gray Mackerel-dotted sky. Such sounds as fail to reach the ear When skies are bright and fair Increase to volumes strong and clear Through vapors in the air. The sun and moon together ride In chariot of day, While stars, at night, alone abide To light the heaven's highway. Bring out the angling-rods and lines, The bait with care prepare, Infallible are Nature's signs That fishing-time is here. A happy thrill and sweet desire Pervade each nerve and bone; A spark of true Waltonian fire Into a flame has grown. O, painted skies and fragrant air, Fair fields and flowers fine, Your charms, though great, cannot compare With those of rod and line. ^4-^Lt.t. CZf* U^t^m.4. ^ /• /f*& ? f ^**^ tPsS*— 4.4.4.J ^,-71 Sb-~,U ^Zt^J. "£^/+y "srZU SONGS OF NATURE 115 'Tis joy to scale high mountain peaks And view the works of God, But greater joy has he who seeks For scale with line and rod. A magic touch — how sweet the thrill — From something out of sight, Demands great patience, greater skill To harvest sure the bite. "Who spares the rod will spoil the child" Wise Solomon once said; His line has many a youth beguiled — Him gladly they obeyed. The statesman, poet, merchant, boy, And politician fine, May each, with profit, time employ In casting forth his line. Indeed, all men who have a soul — A spark of The Divine — May gather patience, self-control While wielding rod and line. For patience, perseverance, pluck Young men should daily seek; They are not charms, they are not luck, But better far than Greek. In life, a good supply of these, In trade, profession, art, Is more than code Demosthenes Known perfectly by heart. 116 SONGS OF NATURE The men who've made the highest mark, On history's page to shine, Are those who owned a fishing-ark, Or cast a fishing-line; Or those who rambled by a brook That babbled blithely by, And cast a captivating hook Concealed within a fly. Let sages sing their songs sedate, Bards write in measures fine, But of all things inanimate The best is rod and line. We fancy heaven must have a lake, Fair brooks and boundless brine Where fisher-saints of joys partake In wielding rod and line. The men who fished in Galilee — The chosen of our Lord — Who preached faith, hope, and charity, Were promised their reward. Since they were expert fishermen, And earth probation ground, Lake, stream, and seas should greet us, when Hereafter they are found, For fishermen know no rewards That mundane mind can ken, Like that a "fishing-day" affords 'Mong fish and fishermen. SONGS OF NATURE 117 Ah, next to heaven — one step below — Is stream where trout abound; Where limpid, living waters flow, And mossy banks are found; Where zephyrs play on harps of pine, And stately forests nod To him who hears such voice divine While using line and rod. Sweet thus to discount joys of heaven And taste its pleasures here, When unto mortal man is given The waters pure and clear That flow in music soft and sweet, Adown some sharp decline Where pool and curve form a retreat Inviting cast of line. 'Tis here the soul expands and sings, Tuned to the joys benign That spring from Nature's offerings To him with rod and line. Bring out the rod, the line, the creel, 'Tis fishing-time to-day, My piscatorial nerves now feel A call they must obey. 118 SONGS OF NATURE Poundridge, N. Y. Perhaps no spot upon this sphere Has charms for me more sacred, dear, Than those of old Poundridge; I love her hills, her lakes, her streams, Her rural haunts where Nature teems With joys naught can abridge. Her dew-bespangled meadows shine With gems of radiance so divine When touched by matin sun, That myriad pendant drops of dew Lend to the mead a brilliant hue Like earth with diamonds strewn. The woods that sleep on distant hills Or watch o'er gently murmuring rills Seem restful to the soul; Their silence brings sweetest repose, A panacea for the woes That spurn M. D.'s control. The healthful, healing, peaceful rest, To frame fatigued, to mind distressed, Seems but a foretaste here Of that serene and blest abode That to the faithful child of God Hereafter shall appear. I love the rustic's rough demesne That yields to toil a wealth unseen To those of civic life, For here I drank in youth's bright morn The draughts of vigor that were drawn From labor's busy strife. M E Church, Poundridge ««*»>^»*r \ Presbyterian Church, Poundridge Two views ok Main street, Poundridge SONGS OF NATURE 121 I love the home wherein I played, The yard o'erspread by maple shade, The near-by babbling brook, The fields o'er which my youthful feet Sped onward toward the trout's retreat With dangling line and hook. I love the path across the wood So gladly trod in search of food For hungering, thirsting mind, The room where pupils used to meet And strive to make their work complete And manners more refined. All these I love for what is past, And still must love while life shall last; But I do love still more The souls that fired my mental lamp And on my character did stamp Truths fraught with richest lore. I see the reverend form of one Whose voice was joy in every tone While drawing out my mind, And teaching me science and art, And noblest virtues of the heart That man should have combined. I see my aged mother there, My father in his old arm-chair, And fancy hears their voice, My brother yet so full of joy Has passed the limits of a boy But still can much rejoice. 122 SONGS OF NATURE Upon the hill the lakes between Are sacred mounds of living green Where sleep my precious dead' A vacant spot reserved for me, To which my heart looks longingly, Invites my weary head. No greater boon could I e'er ask, When I have finished earthly task Than quietly to rest Surrounded by her vales and hills, Her laughing lakes and singing rills And friends that I love best. Fair Interlachen*'s smile, to me Is fraught with naught but brilliancy From scenes around, above; Here would I joyously find rest, Its blooming mould above my breast, And I with those I love. Though many years now intervene My mind recalls each boyhood scene Of field and wood and bridge; These cherished memories only prove Abiding faith and filial love Toward restful old Poundridge. * Interlachen is the family cemetery on the ridge between Trinity Lake and Kitchewan Lake, from which both lakes may be seen. Two Views of Trinity Lake SONGS OF NATURE 125 Fidelity When this infant world in its swaddling band Of mist and cloud and storm, Assumed its forms of sea and land, And the lakes and streams were born; In this western world, on its eastern shore, Four leagues from a land-locked sea, Came a liquid crown set with jewels four, But in union only three; For the northern gem is a solitaire And barred from the lesser three By a marble wall wrought strong and fair By the hand of Divinity. A silver thread from the Trinity Runs southward through the wood Till it casts itself in the land-locked sea And is merged in old Neptune's flood; But the northern gem, in a winding race Sends its waters toward the west, And links itself in the kind embrace Of the Hudson grandly dressed. Unnumbered moons had waxed and waned, And flung on this mirror sheet A train of beauty with no discord stained Since creation was complete. Here antlered deer had slaked his thirst, And fought his mirrored form; Here rolling tones of thunder burst As a harbinger of storm; Here song of bird and sign of breeze Had charmed no human ear; Here beast on land and bird on trees Had dwelt devoid of fear. 126 SONGS OF NATURE Brave Kitchewonks then traced their way Along the stream that westward ran While Rippowams pursued their prey Until this lake-land was their van. The Kitchewonks near northern lake, Upon the Rippowams looked down, And hoped their pride and power to break Ere harvest moon had fully grown. Almeta on the western stream Now mourned her absent Ponomo, For harvest moon had sent its gleam Across the Hudson's tidal flow, And at its full he was to come And her to lake-land safely guide, Where they would make their future home, And she would there become his bride; But now, he with Rippowam's band Had marched to meet her kinsmen dear, And face to face now sternly stand Prepared for battle-shock severe. Her heart bid her to dare the shock And seek him near the hostile camp; Her mind her heart would sometimes mock, And boding fears her ardor damp. The bondage of her heart so great Her coward mind could never free; She scorns all danger, dares all fate, And this her soul's soliloquy: "My Manitou calls unto me And whispers gently in my ear: 'Fidelity! Fidelity! Dispel your doubt, banish your fear, SONGS OF NATURE 127 And know that faith and trust will be Reward for all that fate can bring Of weal or woe; and constancy Shall be your shield from suffering.' "The voice of Nature in me born Calls unto me at morn and night; Its pleadings strong I dare not scorn When Manitou proclaims them right; For what is right I dare to do; Though death from such obedience spring I dare obey my Manitou, When he commands such offering. "No pangs from wounds from foes without Can equal pangs from foe within; I can endure the victor's shout, If I, myself be free from sin; But who can honor cast aside, Through fear of pain the flesh may bear, And claim a spirit still allied To that Fidelity must wear? "No wound my spirit can destroy Save wound myself to it can give; Nor shall my spirit know alloy While it with me in flesh shall live; Fidelity yields healing balm My carnate sorrows to allay, Bids my true heart and mind be calm; Drives all my doubts and fears away, Leaving the transient flesh to bear The pangs to which flesh is allied, Yet proffering the spirit's care To flesh wherein it must abide. 128 SONGS OF NATURE "I know that tribal laws demand My life if I should thither flee, I must obey my soul's command — My Manitou's— Fidelity! No other lips my lips have pressed, No other arms encircled me, Since Ponomo my form caressed And we pledged vows of constancy. "For me, at each returning moon, He journeyed through the forest wild, Braved dangers that my heart has won And now I must not be defiled By any doubt or any fear That death or suffering can bring, Or count such suffering too dear, If I must be its offering. What though my blood may stain the soil, Devotion mark me for a slave Through weary years to strive and toil, Or fate shall sink me 'neath the wave! " 'T were better far that such shall be Than I shall violate my heart And all that's sacred unto me By acting a false maiden's part. I must away, I must away To meet him by the silvery lake! 'Tis crime for me to longer stay, I will not, cannot now forsake. "Dear Manitou, loved Manitou, Counselor of my suffering soul, My faith, my fate, I bring to you And yield my all to your control; SONGS OP NATURE 129 I, I alone too feeble be To meet the dangers that surround The journey you have bidden me Pursue till Ponomo be found. "Sweet Manitou, kind Manitou, Your mind be mine, your courage too, While I this journey wild pursue Obedient to command from you That cannot now be cast aside; Nor can my sincere soul sustain The shocks and dangers that must come Were I without you to remain, And bid my struggling heart be dumb To all its honor would maintain, And all to which it is allied." She speeds along the forest trail Where warriors late in painted form Had marched through Kitchewan's fair vale To meet their foes in battle-storm. Her eyes are watchful to survey; Her ears detect the lightest sound; Her heart and mind to her betray When barriers to her flight are found. She shuns them all by tact and skill. Most gladly she to him will prove The power that's in a woman's will, And faith that's in a woman's love. From hill and ledge she scans the ground When dangers seem her way to mock. But highest point by her is found Upon a trembling, swaying rock 130 SONGS OF NATURE That seems unsteady 'neath her feet And makes it difficult to stand To make inspection, so complete She may discern Ponomo's band. Both trembling rock and trusting heart Are firmly fixed, no power can move; But from its crest she must depart In search of him who claims her love. She stands beside the central lake Along whose shores the war-whoops rang And softly for her own heart's sake This song of harvest-moon she sang: The hunter's moon now floods the night Turns darkness into day, The woods and lake in mellow light Charm cares and griefs away. The sparkling water's silvery gleam My sorrows soothe for me, And lift my soul as in a dream Whose joys are pure and free. So bright the light that floods the night The song-birds sweetly sing; From tree to tree they take their flight On happy, noisless wing. Come, now, Ponomo, come to me, I wait your coming here, You promised 'neath this hemlock tree This midnight to appear. SONGS OF NATUEE 131 My heart, my life, my all are yours And you are all to me, Faith trusts your promise and assures Perfect fidelity. I know your heart is warm and true, Your love not cold and dumb, No adverse power can it subdue, I know that you will come. She hears a footstep drawing near; Her tongue is mute, her song is done; She waits Ponomo to appear, In shadowed silence all alone. Beneath lugubrious hemlock shade Her heart beats with expectancy And Kitchewonk's true, dusky maid Trusts Rippowam's fidelity. He comes. She sees him near the lake, She knows his form, his step, his voice; No other charm than this could make Her heart and soul so much rejoice. They meet beside the water's edge Where hemlock boughs in reverence nod, And there with mutual vow and pledge, In presence of their living God, They join the hand, the heart, the life, While harvest-moon a witness stood That he the husband, she the wife Will share in life's vicissitude. That sacred pledge was heard on high And registered by angel hand, Nor priest, nor king, nor majesty Could marriage rite perform more grand 132 SONGS OP NATURE The trees that stood on every side, The rocks that girt the marge of lake, The stars that in yon heaven abide Yet of our mundane joys partake, Were guests that silently beheld The union of two hearts allied By the instinctive powers that weld Into a bondage sanctified; Then sang together nuptial song So full of peace and harmony, That winds the notes wafted along And thrilled the lake with jubilee, Till every rock and hill and vale Re-echoed the ecstatic song That on and on shall e'er prevail Where hearts allied to each belong. No tribal laws or priestly hand Can rivet adverse hearts in one; Compulsion has no iron band So strong it may not be undone, But ties of mutual interest That spring spontaneous from the soul, Are never by themselves oppressed, Their silken cords have full control. Foul fetters forged for Freedom's feet Give greater power to Freedom's hands, For Freedom's songs are far more sweet Than peans sung at force's commands. To know, to feel, to fully share The joys and sorrows of this life, Unites the hearts of mated pair, And makes the husband and the wife. SONGS OF NATURE 133 No clang of chain on limb of slave, No sob in dungeon of despair, No wail of sorrow at the grave Of loved ones laid forever there, Can rend the heart and wreck the brain Like sigh of consort yet unknown, Whose life forever must remain Linked to a being not its own. The withered bloom and blasted fruit Of unions void of sense and soul, Are legacies of ill repute Whose vaporings are oft so foul, The social atmosphere is fraught With venom deadly from its breath, And virtue shudders at the thought Of them whose lives are living death. The choral stars in yonder sky, The waves that sang along the shore, The breeze that laughingly passed by Diffusing incense that it bore, Had each a message for the ear And heart, but needed no reply From minds and souls true and sincere And tethered by fidelity. Ponomo and Almeta there Where jut the rocks 'neath hemlock boughs Had breathed a mutual, fervent prayer And each to each pledged sacred vows, When o'er the lake a war-whop rang, And Kitchewonks on every side 134 SONGS OF NATURE Swept down with shout and yell and clang Upon Ponomo and his bride. On north and south, and on the west No way of flight then could they take, So from the steep rock's rugged side They plunged into the central lake. A hundred arrows cleft the air, But one alone then reached its mark. Ponomo felt it roughly tear Its way into his faithful heart. He shrieked and sank beneath the wave; Almeta followed after him; Their bridal couch was watery grave, The war-whoop was their requiem. The savage yell of victory Re-echoed then from shore to shore, While every rock and every tree Seemed deeply tinged with human gore, For when the moon from heavenly throne Looked down and saw the gastly deed, It veiled itself, and feebly shone, As if in agony to plead That human souls might ever know That God himself cannot approve The hand that strikes avenging blow, And soul devoid fraternal love. Neath crystal waters of the lake In silent undisturbed repose, Where sounds of strife no slumbers break, Heedless alike of friends or foes, SONGS OF NATURE 135 They slept the long, long sleep of death, Through centuries of rolling years, While o'er their forms the zephyr's breath In playful eddyings oft appears. Their race has faded from the shore And left few traces that they were, Their war-whoops now are heard no more, — Forever stilled by conqueror. Full many a fathom 'neath the wave Their forms have slumbered side by side, And verdant hemlocks fringe the grave Of slain Ponomo and his bride. The waters then were deeper made Giving their spirits much unrest; The lake their agony betrayed And seemed on every side distressed. One spring, when Nature gaily dressed With charms that could the mind beguile, There 'rose upon the lake's fair breast A hibernating, floating isle, Devoid of life it seemed at first, Chaotic, dull, with beauty none, Till rays of sunshine on it burst And changed it to a paragon. Two alders sprang from near its edge And twined themselves in close embrace, While ferns and grass gave certain pledge That time would give it smiling face. But when the frosts of autumn fell It sank from sight, perchance to rest; No searching mind could ever tell The secret of its rising crest. 136 SONGS OF NATURE For years at each returning spring This isle would rise above the wave As if to memory to bring Ponomo and Almeta's grave. But when the harvest moon shone bright It meekly sank, as years before When on that dread and fatal night The faithful sank by rock-bound shore. Its verdure grew, its alders spread Its fame extended many a mile; 'Twas type of resurrected dead, This hibernating, floating isle. But vandal hands destroyed the prize And sank it 'neath a weight of stones, While Almeta sends forth her sighs, And Ponomo emits his groans. Here let them rest, if rest they may Amid the beauteous scenes around, And wait in peace the final day When at the angel's trumpet-sound The water shall give up its prey And earth shall full surrender make For earth has not a type to-day Of peace more perfect than this lake. Peace, Peace, divine, benignant Peace O'er Trinity expands her wings, Bids strife and discord 'round her cease While raptured Nature joyous sings The song once sung at Bethlehem By angel choirs, at sacred birth Of Him who brought from heaven the gem Of Peace to gladden all the earth. SONGS OP NATURE 137 Peace, downy Peace, forever stay- Within this dear, enchanting vale, Fan with your wings all strife away, And quell all tempests that assail The quietude that Nature yields To votaries who oft repair To scenes whose lakes and woods and fields Bid all your children welcome there. Peace, joyous Peace, your smile benign Is solace for a sorrowing soul; Your fruits so healthful, pure, divine Are treausres taken from the scroll Of life, to teach men how to live And taste the joys that should control The bonds of brotherhood that give Best solace to the mind and soul. Peace, holy Peace, your wand extend Across the wide expanse of earth; Change fighting foe to faithful friend And wail of woe exchange for mirth; Let brother's hand a brother's grasp, And each draw toward a brotherhood, Till all mankind the boon shall clasp, And each by each be understood. Peace, blessed Peace, still hover near The weary hand and aching heart That bathe their pangs with silent tear To wash away injustice's smart; Tear from all greedy souls desire To batten on a brother's fall; 138 SONGS OF NATURE Then, then shall dawn the blessed day That all the world has longed to see, And joy shall put to flight dismay, And Justice sing Truth's Jubilee. Peace, restful Peace, at life's decline Is fruitage fair from former seeds That had been sown with a design To soothe some stricken soul that needs A fostering care and counsel wise, To pilot it among life's shoals, Where dangers lurk in dark disguise, And undercurrent dangerous rolls To bear him from safe anchorage; Then, then shall come a whisper- voice, "You did it not to him but Me; Your passport pangs I will assuage; My Peace shall crown your victory, And you God's chosen child shall be." Fidelity A HISTORICAL LEGEND OF TRINITY LAKE, N. Y. Explanatory Note About the year 1852, the author, then a small boy, became intimately acquainted with one Samuel Brown, a native of Poundridge, N. Y., aged about ninety years, and thoroughly conversant with its people and its history from its early settlement by the whites. The story related in "Fidelity", so far as it relates to the Indians, was told to the writer by this pioneer in the settlement of the picturesque, healthful, and Nature-favored section of southeastern New York. The incidents subsequent to 1852, are from the personal knowledge of the writer, who lived in the town from boyhood to maturity, and has visited there frequently up to the present time, 1912. The Rippowams were a tribe of Indians that lived along the northern shore of Long Island Sound, near Stamford and Norwalk, Conn., and the terri- tory extending some twenty miles to the northward. The Kitchewonks were a tribe of Indians that lived along the easterly shore of the Hudson River near Ossining and Peekskill, N. Y., and laid claim to the territory eastward also claimed by the Rip- powams, and to the valley of the Croton River lying between the Hudson River and the lake-land, thus overlapping claims. In the early days of the occupancy of these lands by the Indians, the Rippowams followed to the northward, a stream whose head-waters came from (139) 140 SONGS OF NATURE three lakes known at that time, as Round Pond, Middle Pond, and Lower Pond, all discharging their waters into the Long Island Sound near Stam- ford. The Kitchewonks followed eastward along that branch of the Croton River whose source was Cross Pond (now Kitchewan Lake) and whose waters were discharged into the Hudson. These lakes, though not more than one half mile apart, are separated by a ridge of lime and marble rock that forms a watershed between the Hudson River and Long Island Sound. For the possession of these lakes, streams and hunting-grounds there were frequent battles among the Indians, as the region was valuable for its fish and game. The intercourse between these tribes, both be- longing to the Mohegans, was limited for many- years by frequent wars, but in the lapse of time became more frequent and friendly. Many years after these Indians had gone to their happy hunting-grounds at the call of Death, or had been driven to other scenes of earthly pursuits, the city of Stamford sought a water supply for the use of its citizens, and the Stamford Water Co. constructed a dam at the southerly end of Lower Pond, thereby joining the three lakes into one, and very appropriately thereafter called it Trinity Lake. These lakes are supplied almost entirely from sub- terranean springs, as no streams of noticeable size empty into them and their waters are clear, clean and sanitary to a high degree. For many years thereafter, in the late spring of the year, a floating SONGS OF NATURE 141 island appeared in the southern part of Trinity, upon which grew grass, moss, and alders. About the last of September each year, the island sank and remained in a state of hibernation until its time for resurrection in the spring, when it re- appeared upon the surface of the water, and was soon clothed with its accustomed verdure. Some persons having little love for the romantic, curious, and beautiful in Nature, loaded it so heavily with stones that it sank never to rise again. In its departure, the lake sustained the loss of an attraction known to no other lake in this region and to but few lakes in the world. A large rock estimated to weigh eight or ten tons is so delicately poised upon another rock that stands upon a high point some forty rods westerly from the southern end of Trinity, that a gentle pressure of the hand would cause it to sway perceptibly, but recently that has been scotched by thoughtless or irreverent hands. From the easterly shore, where the picnic grounds are, one may see on the opposite shore some pre- cipitous rocks bordering the water's edge, below which the water is very deep. From these rocks Ponomo and Almeta probably plunged to the waters below. The lake is fringed with beautiful hemlock, cedar, and deciduous trees of many kinds, making thus a terraqueous scene most enchanting, and rarely to be found save in regions more alpine, and in zones remote from our metroplitan centres. 142 SONGS OP NATURE Detatched Thoughts No. 1 He whose heaven is in some orb That gleams in yon celestial dome; "Whose mind and soul fail to absorb The beauties that surround his }■ home, May find, at last, that heaven above Is but the fruitage of earth's bloom; And finding naught on earth to love, May find his heaven a place of glooT No. 2 It matters not what be his creed, It matters not his pedigree, If in his soul there be a seed That warmed by his humanity Shall bloom with love and fruitage bear, To bless the suffering ones of earth; For he a diadem should wear And heaven alone should claim his birth. % % % % Hs % No. 3 He who truly loves all Nature — Loves her for herself .alone — Though he dwell in hut or palace, Though he sit on stool or throne, Has a flame within him burning, Kindled by Almighty God, That will link him to all creatures In a happy brotherhood. SONGS OF NATURE 143 Though the links may not be equal, Yet the chain unbroken is; Though the niche each fills in station May be wrought by mysteries, Every living plant and creature, Bird and beast that earth has trod, Is a part of its Creator, Is an atom of its God. No. 4 Let me choose for friend and brother Him who joys in Nature's song; Him whose notes are all in concert "With her happy, healthful throng; Him who from the trills of Nature Would select some sweet refrain That around his heart will linger, And his soul would fain retain; Him whose life is linked to Nature, Sings her dearest, sweetest strain Keyed to her ecstatic measure And to her harmonious train; Holds close concourse with her creatures, High and low — of all degrees — Till his soul expands through knowledge Wrought from former mysteries, And he sees himself as brother To the animated throngs That with him chant to the Father, Natal, true, thanksgiving songs. ICtftmg tty log. By PROF. JARED BARHITE. For years it has been my pleasure To share in the sports of the boys, Indulge a strong impulse to aid them Aud join in their tumult and noise; Thus serving a double purpose Of keeping myself ever young A_nd lifting the lives of the children Who ever around me throng. Who feels not a joy in the presence Of boyhood bubbling o'er With tricks aud frolics and antics — Of which boys never Lick store — Oati lift not a boy in his vision Of that which is noble and true, Nor lead him to high aspirations For a life of exalted view. Lives that have gone down iu darkness And shid)wed many a home, Perhaps would have been bright beacons In the years that were lo come, Had some sympathizing leader Shared their innocence aud glee, While their characters were forming For time and eternity. Some wrecks that have strewn the household Are a thousand limes more sad Tua:i old ocean's wildest wreckage By a wave lashed, rocky head, Whereon some bark impinges Amid the white sea-foaui. And the drowning sailor catches Death-gleams of his boyhood home. To lift ii hoy (owiiid honor One must bend to boyish ways, Peel joy at his childish prattle, Take pride in the games he plays; Not to stoop and remain recumbent In a boyish atmosphere, Bat to raise him by the pre ence Of a soul true and sincere. There are stars in crowns of glory Of those who have moulded boys, By being like them in spirit And entering into their joys, And lifting them by a power Acquired through sympathy, Till strong they were and stalwart In manhood and honesty. No crown of earthly monarch grand Enthroned through force of arms Sparkles with such a lustre pure Or yields such potent charms As the radiant faVce of childhood When expressive of its joy, In the presence of a tutor Who sometimes can be a boy. There's power in such sympathy No language can express, It draws the soul unconsciously By cords of tenderness, It mellows up the sterile soul, Plants intellectual seeds, That fructify in later years In noble, God-like deeds. If to me in the great hereafter A crown shall e'er be given, 'Twill be for my faith in the Master And because I have ever striven To lead toward God and honor. Toward purest, sweetest joys, The jewels to me intrusted — Ten thousand girls and boys. Sufficient will be my glory If such a crown I may wear. And sweet will be the welcome If they shall meet me there, And know that on earth I aided To make their lives more grand, l?y leading them on life's pilgrimage, With a sympathizing hand. Stealers We stand as guardians of our State More potent thau her forts; We make and execute her laws, We formulate her courts; With greater power than squadron white That guards our cities' doors, We stand at learning's portals wide And there defend our shores. We marshal all her armies true, Put generals in command, Send Commerce on the wings of trade, And cultivate the land; We weave the fabrics in the loom, We make the spindles sing; Through us the earth is functified And yields her offering. The pen is mightier than the sword, The mind more potent still, When guided by the living truth And by unyielding will; No other mission here below To mortals has been given, Whose influence so perfectly Links lowly earth with heaven. The silken cords that lead the mind, And train the human soul Till, in its full developement, It spurns the base control Of the degrading and the false; But loves the pure and true, Is spirit born and nurtured well In lines that we pursue. The Master knows what seed we sow And notes the fervor of our toil; He knows no perfect plant can grow Upon an arid, frigid soil; So, patiently broadcast good seeds, Perchance some may find lodgment where They may escape fell thorns and weeds, And, in due time, rich harvest bear. The skill, fidelity and zeal By which Truth's seeds you sow Will fertilize the soil of soul, Make germs expand and grow Until their beauty, value, strength Shall evil drive afar, Dispel the darkness of the mind, Reveal Truth's radiant star. Take heart, take heart, be valiant, strohig We hold our country's trust; Without our aid her children are But animated dust; Devoid of strength, unskilled in art, A heritage of shame, Oast on the surging sea of life For misery to claim. — Jaked Barhitk.