Jttbum of a Heart -BY- R. NATHANIEL DETT MUS. B. MO CO«AT-MfiRCER, JACKMft SnttoDuction. It has been our very great pleasure to be associated with the author of this little volume, as teachers in Lane College, now for three years. He has convinced us that he is a musician of the first water and a poet of no mean gifts. That he is a close student and that nature' has whispered into his ears many of her secrets, those who read the beautiful poems contained herein will not doubt. Young people, and old people as well, can not spend a passing hour more pleasantly and profitably than in reading liter¬ ature teeming with thoughts that are pure, sentiments that are noble, and ideals that are high. Believing this little volume replete with the elements named above, we most heartily commend its careful perusal to all who read and appreciate. Trusting that on its mission of comfort and cheer, it may find a place in many houses and a nook in many hearts, "We are very respectfully, GEO. F. PORTER, FRANK H. RODGrERS. Jackson, Tennessee. COPYRIGHT 1011 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED JForetoorD. The heart is a gallery in which many pictures indeed are hung; and there are grave ones or gay ones or both, according as has been the experience; vivid or faint are they according' to the circumstances which caused them to be; and the framing (not the least of the picture) is deeply precious or indifferently so, ac¬ cording to the tenderness of regard in which the pic¬ ture itself is held. How often when the mind is free from outside cares will it indulge itself in tender musings over things which are in the main the works of its own creating; and even over those scenes which are less lovely will it oftim.es linger, held by that strange fascination which inevitably binds creator to the thing created. Perhaps every heart may not boast a gallery, but each will have its own little album,—an album of miniatures perhaps, but because miniatures none the less true. Who is it that idly looking over a collection of por¬ traits or sketches has not been suddenly arrested by the familiarity of some unknown face or scene? Even so, dear reader, if in an idle moment while glancing through these pages you are struck by the seeming familiarity of what is portrayed, be not surprised; it is only that one of these little sketches has a counter¬ part among those pictures garnered for your own heart's album. R. NATHANIEL DETT. Lane College, Wednesday, May 24, 1911. To Olga. Night fell at last, as night is wont to fall, Gathering darkness from the muted wind. And like the leaves that in the Autumn fall So quietly to earth, the shadows downwards Slow at first, then faster silent fell. Nightly born anew the infant stars, Children of the shadows, childlike came To timidly peep forth with curious gaze. All was silent, till a tactful bird Conscious of the moment opportune, Rais'd an even song whose rapturous note Made the previous quietude seem strange. I entranced lay. On tip-toe, Sleep, Jealous mistress of the evening hours, Came and touch'd my eyelids with her hand; And, departing for her nightly rounds, Left Dreams, her sister, guardian in her stead. Dreams was not slow to ply her magic art. To a mountain's top whose gorgeous slopes A Pizgah in an Eden might have made, Thither she bore me. There to my 'stonished view Expos'd a scene, the strange phantasmagoria 7 THE TRAUMEREI Of whose fabric only could be spun By the magic of that witch-maid, Dreams. As in a mirror, one his vision sees, Self viewing self,—so I the vision saw. Three glorious angels floated me in air— And yet not me, but just those parts of me Members most representative in all the ways And moods and walks of life's activity. One bore my head, another bore my hands While still another bore my very heart. I saw, and seeing understood. All three Each for herself desir'd but the control Of me, the man—my seraph-guarded members I knew but emblems were of means of sway. On high the first one raised up my head, Vast empires still unconquer'd were reveal'd. By intuition swift I sudden knew 'Twas with me, but to make those empires mine. Ambition fir'd me. Breathes anywhere a soul Wherein doth dwell no love of regal sway ? Me, King of Earth, no vassalage in heaven Could ever woo. 'Twas done. I had decided Then and there: but in the uplifted gaze Of the two others I read the mandate: "Wait." 8 THE TRAUMEREI The second laid my hands upon a Harp; And at my touch, straightway from the strings Wondrous, mellifluous harmonies unknown to men With strange accord pour'd forth their dulcet strains. Oh Music,—of the holy arts most high! Shall these poor hands thy subtle power employ. Thy holy essence may I understand, Till feeling these the very stones and trees Acknowledge me their master! Once again I would have made decision—but a sense Of something yet to come appr'ended me. Now that Fair She who bore my own full heart Did but press it closer to her own As loth to leave it; drooping low her head In deep affection touch'd it with her lips. Quiet-like then began she a song Wild, yet soft, free and yet so pure The melody, its sweetness made it sad. Thrill'd by its tremor past all I could endure Trembling to the point of tears—I woke. Kingdoms, Power, Endless Wealth—not these! Mastery, Art, Ceaseless Fame—not these! But dear Heart-Angel, visit thou my dreams. Thou only come, I yield to thy control! 9 THE TRAUMEREI And when 'tis mine to take that last long sleep, Grant me to wake but in a world with thee! There let the tremor of thy love-born song Waft me on to Rapture's highest plane; Until no longer able to endure I lose myself in God's Eternity. 10 (EijatH #n! There'd be no Pleasure were there no Pain; E 'en Sunshine would pall were there no Rain: We could not smile, if in all the years We'd never shed a few sad tears. What need of ambition if all were gain? There'd be no Pleasure were there no Pain. 11 AT NIAGARA List to the sounding eat'raet's thundering fall Or hark to spirit voices in the wind. For methinks sometimes that these strange moods Are Heaven-sent us by the jealous God Who'd thus remind us that no human love Can fully satisfy the longing heart. Perhaps an intimation sent to souls That he would speak somewhat, or nearer draw. Therefore I'll to Him. Talking waters, stars, The moon and whisp'ring trees shall make me wise In what it is He'd have my spirit know. And Nature singing from the earth and sky Shall fill me with such peace, that in the morn I'll be the gay glad self you've always known. Urge me no further, now that you understand. A nobler friend than you none ever knew— But not this time. Tonight I'll be alone; And if from moonlit valley God should speak Or in the tumbling waters sound a call Or whisper in the sighing of the wind, He'll find me with an undivided heart Patient waiting to hear; but Friend,—alone. 13 3 ^tnnJ» by tljr (Hants of Hfmnrg. To Prof. P. D. Sherman, Oberlin College. I stood by the Caves of Memory; Suddenly taken unawares I felt myself o'erpowered by some strange force Which flung itself upon me and fiercely strove To drag me down, whither I knew not. Helpless in my distress I called on God— Straightway the thing fled from me And I saw it go running black and naked To hide itself among the caverned recesses. Once there it turned and hotly fixed its eyes upon me— And I recognized it. 'Twas the thought Of an evil deed, done in those past days When Passion was master of my spirit. 14 HtBmoriita. "Where, in the forest stands a loom Of shadows, there stood I; Methought from somewhere in the gloom I heard an owlet cry. So weird the scream, a lurid gleam Of light sped with the tone; But in my heart I felt no start, The voice seemed like my own. For sure no owl 'mid shadows foul Could voice such fearful cry; No heart could know such awful woe— No, none could save I. That rantipole was my own soul In mis'ry shunning light; O'ercome with grief, to find relief, Had shrieked out in the night! 15 ®1}£ mountain. To my >upil, Mr. O. B. Payne, Lane College, 1911. I love the mountain! Tho' he frown on me A kindness lurks beneath, that majesty; A message writ those furrowed brows along Forever says: "Be strong! Be strong!" I love the mountain! Tho' his lofty peak "Wind swept, cloud swept, towers lone and bleak, No matter to what heights I would aspire, Ever silent calls to me: '' Climb higher!'' I love the mountain! For its rocks and trees Forever speak a thousand mysteries; On that rugged brow, the humble sod Lowly speaks not of itself but God. I love the mountain! Tho' he silent stand His voice is stronger than a mighty band Of clarion angels, loudly who proclaim A loftier purpose and a nobler aim; And so I love him all the more since he Through noblest speech betrays his love for me. 16 itttg. A Butterfly paused on a Rose And oh, so gently he pressed her; Her tears of joy fell soft as the dew, As he so gently caressed her. Ah me! Ah me! Ah me! Estranged forever from pleasure Is the heart that in innocence yields Its depths to fickle love's measure. Did the Butterfly love the dear Rose (Her heart was broken they say), She was for him but a moment's delight And then he flitted away. Ah me! Ah me! Ah me! Estranged forever from pleasure Is the heart that in innocence yields Its depths to fickle love's measure. Be warned by the fate of the Rose So soon and so sadly forsaken; 17 DITTY In soft-sounding word and gentle caress 'Tis easy to be quite mistaken. Ah me! Ah me! Ah me! Estranged forever from pleasure Is the heart that in innocence yields Its depths to fickle love's measure. 18 When I was a pickaninny- Many years ago, I 'members how my mammy used ter call me. Up the creakin' stairs she came, 'Bout time for first cock crow, An' turnin' back de kiver she would say: "Open yo' eyes, '' Litt '1 niggah; "Open yo' eyes, "Litt'l niggah; "Open yo' eyes, open yo' eyes. "Litt'l niggah, de daylight's come; "Litt'l niggah, de daylight's come." Happy days for pickaninny; Soon dey pass away: Mammy's gone; she wid the saints in glory. Mem'ry makes de tears come risin' Oft at break o' day; I hears a dear sweet voice which seems ter say: 19 PAPPY "Open yo' eyes, "Litt'l niggah; ''Open yo' eyes, "Litt'l niggah; "Open yo' eyes, open yo' eyes. "Litt'l niggah, de daylight's come; "Litt'l niggah, de daylight's eome." 20 lagatelb. Life's a Spindle; Both ends dwindle. 21 Uubtnatetn §>iarratn Etuiir. To Prof. G. C. Hastings, Oberlin Conservatory. Staccato! Staccato! Leggier agitato! In and out does the melody twist— Unique proposition Is this composition. (Alas! for the player who hasn't the wrist!) Now in the dominant Theme ringing prominent, Bass still repeating its one monotone, Double notes crying, Up keyboard go flying, The change to the minor comes in like a groan. Without a cessation A chaste modulation Hastens adown to subdominant key, Where melody mellow-like Singing so 'cello-like Rising and falling in wild ecstacy. Scarce is this finished When chords all diminished Break loose in a patter that comes down like rain, A pedal-point wonder Rivaling thunder. 22 THE RUBINSTEIN STACCATO ETUDE Now all is mad agitation again. Like laughter jolly Begins the finale; Again does the 'cello its tones seem to lend Diminuendo ad molto crescendo. Ah! Rubinstein only could make such an end! 23 A Romance Sonata. I. Andante Teneramente. Day kissed the hills at parting, Whispered to the trees, Glanced into her mirror-lake And with a smile, Silent withdrew herself into the night. Drawn forth by Nature's witcheries I came, Came and stood alone upon the strand. And there I met you, met you mid the gloom And the sad, sad sound of the sea. Ah! souls betrothed by Heaven's kind ordaining, No spoken word need they, their love prefacing. I met you; changed was night to day, The wail of the sea, a song of glad surprise. I gazed on Nature, she flung back my joy; I gazed on you, and sudden strangely moved Could not repress the tears that all unbid, That all unbid, but from my heart upsprang. Day kissed the hills at parting And I but kissed your hand; Day whispered to the trees And I but your fair name. 24 A ROMANCE SONATA Day glanced into her mirror-lake, I looked but in your eyes; You with a smile Silent withdrew yourself into the night. II. Arietta. I dreamed of you at morn; I thought I saw you smile,— I woke, and lo! the bright sunbeams Shone round me all the while! I dreamed of you at eve; Your voice I seemed to hear,— I woke, and lo! a nightingale Sang at my window near. "Where perfumed flowers whisper To soft winds sighing south, I dreamed you kissed me; lo, a rose Had fallen on my mouth. III. Cadenza Inianno. At dawn? Well, I am not certain; But I know 'twas betimes of the morning; From half-dreams I sudden was conscious Of waking, with nerves all a-tingle 25 A ROMANCE SONATA Hoping to hear it repeated. For soft on the air, like a bugle, Fell the low, sweet call of a robin! Instant with the note came a vision Of smiling fields and blowing flower bells; Of lace-draped trees all shadowy with Spring. Again I felt the joyous touch Of your warm hand in mine, As together we wandered Like children, 'mid the fields In the rapturous bloom of the weather. And Oh! so strong was the fancy, Scarce knowing the spirit that moved me I sprang up and flung wide the casement. Alas! there was no robin! (Too soon, for yet chill was the weather.) But a mocking-bird, oh, recreant deceiver! Yet I might have forgiven the trickster Were it not that with cry changed to cat-call, He sped away o'er the hill tops And seemed to laugh on derision! IV. Nocturne. The Moon and I are friends now; Our friendship began 26 A ROMANCE SONATA On that fatal night When you and I parted— Parted to meet no more. I've told her all that happened, All that used to be, All I hoped would be When she heard of how you once had loved me And I believed you true, She smiled, oh such a radiant smile, And all the golden stars danced. But when I said that now, Banished from the bounds of your affection A lonely exile, I, Wandering only in the light of her pale beams, She turned—the old Moon turned— I swear she turned And with a shivering sigh Hid her face behind a darksome cloud. V. Recitative. In vain! In vain! All you do is vain! Tho' you declare your love no longer lives, And all your life be spent this one fact proving, Yet 'tis all in vain, For what I have is mine and mine shall be. No word or deed-built avalanche can defame 27 A ROMANCE SONATA Your perfect image 'stablished in my heart. Mem'ries of hours we have spent together Lie peaceful in my breast, Deep-sea pearls unshaken by the storm. To-day may change and the future bring Such strife, confusion, inharmonious scenes That viewed from now impossible would seem; Yet there is no power in Earth or Heaven Nor even from the raging depths of Hell Can tear from me the mem'ries that I have, Nor insidious dissipate the past! VI. Largo Con Tristezza. Drop, drop, my Tears, And let your sodden sound Only disturb this quiet solitude. Drop, drop, my Tears, Let this heavy heart Surcease find, in your kind o'erflow. Drop, drop, my Tears; Drop, drop, my Tears. Was it a voice ? Comes someone? Do forms appear Most beloved, but which I would not see? 28 A ROMANCE SONATA Only the trees that whispered,— And I am alone. Drop, drop, my Tears; Rise ye full and free, Float my grief upon your swelling tide. Drop, drop, my Tears, Let this heavy heart Surcease find, in your kind o'erflow. Drop, drop, my Tears; Drop, drop, my Tears. VII. Finale—Fuoco di Molto. Rage ye Winds, rage with furious rage, Resistless, relentless, sweep o'er land and sea, Lash the wave, uproot the mighty oak, Ruthless fling them hither, fling them yond! Thus would I throttle the powers that be. Burst ye mighty Tidal Wave, burst high, Unloose ye wild White Horses of old Ocean, Remorseless hurl into Eternity a nation! Your rancor shall be play to that I'd use Could I but lay my hand on Destiny. And thou ,Vesuvius, in fierce eruption As if from out the bowels of Hell, fling high 29 A ROMANCE SONATA Your splatter in the very face of Heaven! Your fury, oh how mild to that which burns "Within my breast 'gainst this that's come on me. Why is it mine to suffer and why mine To weep these tears of bitterness alone? Mother of Destinies, fiercely I resent The choice that makes me Sorrow's special child. A thousand curses on the Fates, I say, That robbed me of a scarcely tasted joy. A thousand curses on the Fates, I say, That robbed me of a love that once was mine; On that which placed this seal upon my heart, And drives me to a lasting hermitage. 30 Au fRatiu. I watch'd the growing dawn that greyed my room; Things visible rose ghostlike out of the gloom. I watched again: It seemed a pearly ash had cover'd all; Light and shade alike shar'd its finely sifted pall. Hark! an awaken'd bird calls; greets the day with a glee: But the morn brings me no gladness—I'm without thee! 31 Au iiwr. Moonlight Blue, I and you No sound heard, Save a mocking bird "Who in delight Enthralls the night. But his bliss Is naught to this Which we know Here below, While on high Floats wide his cry. Starlight Sky, You and I Silence to each Maketh speech. Spoken proverb Would but disurb, Or canticle Unloose the spell. Unto the Moon The bird, eftsoon, 32 AU SOIR "Will tell our bliss,— Sufficient this. Aught else would be Unnecessary; By touch of hand We understand. Now does joy- Its bounds transcend,— Would the night Might never end! 0 soft shine on us From above, Beauteous Night Of perfect love. 33 IBut Hone This poem was set to music by the author and sung by Miss Sarah Alex¬ ander at a Musical Round Table held by the author before the State Normal School session at I,ane College, summer of 1909. Yield but thy love to me And I'll not ask to be A king 0 'er empires great. Thy love Were realm enough for me. Yield by thy love to me And 111 not fear to be Wrapped cold in Death; Death in thy love Were living joy to me. Yield but thy love to me And I'll not wish to be In Paradise. Life in thy love Were Heav'n itself to me. 34 me. To the Lane College Senior Class of 1911, Messrs. J. Ashton Hayes, Oscar B. Payne, Thomas A. Bowers. J. A. H. There's a flower,- 'tis the clover, Known to every nature lover; Honey-full its fragrant lips, Where all day the work-bee sips; Sweetest flower of the lea, It has leaflets Three. 0. B. P. Holy "Writ from cover to cover Read, 0 Heart, and there discover "What the abiding virtues be; Let the Word admonish thee:— Faith and Hope and Charity, These the virtues Three. T. A. B. Draw aside high Heaven's curtain, Dare to gaze within. I'm certain Ruling there the Sacred Host, Father, Son and Holy Ghost; Tho' but one Sublimity, God has Persons Three. 35 ODE B. P. H. Seniors, do you catch my meaning? Surely now the Truth you're gleaning, All of greatness that there be; E'er concomitant with Three Be yours. And may the Smile of Heaven Bless this Class of Nineteen Eleven. 36 ®o tlrp To Dr. George W. Andrews, Oberlin Conservatory. This poem was set to music by the author and sung by Miss Helen Mears, contralto, Class of 1908, at the author's recital of original compositions, Ober¬ lin Conservatory, June 9th, 1908. All day long from my window I hear the sound of the sea; The solemn sound of its deep profound Fathomless tranquility. 'Tis the song of its mighty spirit Whose inmost life is peace— But from the pain of a love is vain The heart finds no release! 37 SuriUgtjt How still the twilight! the yet starless sky- Aweary leans upon the silent shore; The day is dying and that solemn hush Which Death alone commands pervadeth all things. Deepens the gloom until my very soul Attuned with Nature seems to sink and fade. To sink and fade until I scarcely know Whether 'tis I or Day that silent dies— But no. It is not I that dying thus In silence melts into a voiceless calm; Tho' night's approaches bind all nature mute Love knows no fetters. Free the soul proclaims Its message—as the twilight sky sublime— Oh deep as Death that folds the waning day, Oh boundless as the mantle of its gloom, Oh message that the very silence is telling I love thee! I love thee! I love thee! See note to "Oh Whisp'ring Tree. 38 To Baby Louise Kathryn Barnes. Tears of angels that softly fall Make the gentle rain; They mourn for the flowers that soon must die E'er they may come again: So sleep my Baby, sleep my Baby, Sleep and take your rest, While angel woe for flowers flow Sleep, Angel at mother's breast, oh sleep, Sleep, Angel at mother's breast. Harps of angels that softly sigh Is the gentle wind, Singing of the heavenly love So great, eternal, kind; So sleep my Baby, sleep my Baby, Sleep and take your rest, While angels paise in Aeolian lays Sleep, Angel at mother's breast, oh sleep, Sleep, Angel at mother's breast. Eyes of angels that softly shine Are the stars so bright Peeping from the heavenly deeps Softly say "Good Night"; 39 BERCEUSE So sleep my baby, sleep my baby, Sleep and take your rest, While angel eyes say "Good night" from the skies Sleep, Angel at mother's breast, oh sleep, Sleep, Angel at mother's breast. 40 mtatakwt. In jest you laid your head upon my heart To hear it beat; and found a counterpart Of your own heartbeats. Then you said in fun,— '' Surely we've two hearts that beat as one.'' But maybe there's another reason too (Of course it did not e'er occur to you); I have no heart now, when we first did meet You stole it. How then did you hear it beat? No, what you heard as you lay on my breast "Were echoes mere, of your own heart's unrest. 41 After. I stood on the mountain and called yon ; And the birds, at my crying Fled from their nests all affrighted. I stood by the sea-shore and called you; The broken waves, rolling inwards But answered with meaningless sobbing. Deep in the valley I called you; Loudly, the wild errant echoes Danced up the hillsides and mocked me. Then spake the soul to the spirit,— "Ne'er from the bird-haunted mountain "Not from the echoing valley "Nor where breaks the sob-hefted ocean, 4' Shall she e 'er answer your calling. "Look in your heart if you'd find her— '' Who was the life of your loving; "Look in your heart would you find her— "Who was the joy of your living; "There where mem'ry keeps vigil "And grief is ever attendant "Roams she again in the wild wood; 42 AFTER "Hearkens again to the ocean; "Sings to the gossiping echoes. '' Tho' faded from earth as a blossom "In the heart is forever enthroned." 43 (0lj Mljisp nttg To Mrs. F. H. GoflF, Glenville, Ohio. This poem and "Twilight" were set to music by the author and sung by one of the Conservatory vocal instructors, Miss Florence Jenny, at the auth¬ or's Recital of original compositions, Oberlin Conservatory, June 9th, 1908. Oh Whisp'ring Tree with arms outspread, Thy shape a heavenward pointer forms; Still standing tho' an age hath fled Surviving still the storms. Even so that soul whose roots are God Survives the storms of life like thee •Stands firm, tho' Pate rule with iron rod,— Oh Whisp'ring Tree. 44 A iMflaby tljat Sfaunta anil Ctjarma. A melody that haunts and charms, Sweetly calling, sadly cheers. A mem'ry reaching out gaunt arms To clutch but barren wasts of years. Shapeless thoughts oppressive lower Thick as clouds which scourge the deep "When, lashed by the storm fiend's power Mighty oceans fall and leap— Mystic half lights gleam and glimmer Mid the caverns of the soul; Move with constant changing shimmer Fading always as they troll. But the tides of Death, that ever 'Round oblivion, cling and sob— Only in their depths, may ever Pain of Heartbreak ease its throb. 45 (Emtjureii Couldn't sleep last night! Just toss and pitch! I'm conjured! I'm conjured! By that little witch! My heart's all afire! My brain's got the itch! I tell you I'm conjured By that little witch! I'm "patchy" in feelings; It seems that a stitch Has sewed me up inside out. Then there's a hitch Whenever I try to think; Side track and switch My thoughts do; and finally Dump me in the ditch. And when I talk, my voice Seems all out of pitch; When I think about her, My pulses, they twitch. 46 CONJURED I'm in love or I'm crazy, I can't tell quite which; But I know I've been conjured By that little witch! 47 iraw •Ntglj Into Ms. Sweetheart, your hands are cold; Draw nigh unto me: Shadows fall, the day grows old; Draw nigh unto me. All day I've seen your downcast eye; All day heard the troubled sigh That would not stifle, though hard you try: Draw nigh unto me. Come, lay your head upon my breast; Draw nigh unto me: Love to freighted hearts brings rest; Draw nigh unto me. Let me in your troubles share: For you all grief I'd gladly bear; Together we may laugh at care; Draw nigh unto me. Sweetheart, in this world's a heart; Draw nigh unto me: Undivided every part Beats for thee. 'Tis a heart o 'erflown with love, Sacred as the hearts that move 48 DRAW NIGH UNTO ME Bound the throne of God. This heart Is pleading now while near thou art. You from its affection's tide Naught but death shall e'er divide, And twixt you and any ill Gladly would itself instill; This heart is mine. I offer thee Its love,—unworthy tho' it be Yet love constrains me, the love of thee; Draw nigh unto me. 49 3Fattt}fuUQ Ifnurs. I had a corner in my heart, I kept it there for you ;• It was the brightest, warmest spot That e'er a body knew. When thoughts, like happy children came Along that way, I know They always lingered round that spot, Charmed by its warmth and glow. I have a corner in my heart, I keep it there for you; It is as lonely sad a spot As e'er a body knew. Time was a Thief: he stole the warmth, He stole the brightness too; But 'till he steals my very self, I'll keep the spot for you. Some day, perhaps, when you return, As wand'rers sometimes do, We'll make old Time bring back the warmth, The glow and brightness too. 50 FAITHFULLY YOURS Then like true friends, we '11 make amends, The covenant renew; Once more the thrill of joy shall fill The spot I keep for you! 51 lElwjy. Note—Suella, eldest daughter of Rev. I. S. Person, pupil of Prof. R. N. Dett, died October 7th, 1910, at the early age of sixteen. Her life was one of exceptional beauty, as all who knew her will readily testify. She was distin¬ guished by pronounced musical talent which promised very great things—a promise, which owing to her premature death, was only partially fulfilled. She sleeps, our little Suella— That blossom whom God pleased To lend to earth for oh, so short a while Now has drooped and died. But though she died, a fragrance, The fragrance of her presence Lingers and always will linger with us still. Even now it rises sweetly From the swinging censors of our hearts. She sleeps, our little Suella— Peace, ye wailing winds, Cease from your crying. And, ye flowers of earth, with sorrow broken, Be ye lift up. 'Tis season for rejoicing; For hark the song of angels, ev'n as now, She, starlike, is ushered in their midst. And shall we, Unworthy mortals, envy their thanksgiving? Much 'tis rather That glad we should be that we too, have known her— Her, whom angels claim as one of them. 52 ELEGY Moreover, we, inspired by her example, Are resolved more perfectly to grow, That when at last o'ercome with earth's travailing, Face to face, and hand to hand, Old friends united, "We may rise again to meet her in that land Where there is no pain, no parting, disappointment, crying, But one pure joy, fadeless and eternal, Prescient, omnipotent, limitless, undying, Reigns fore'er, sublime delight distilling. 53 liahnp Jaaar ICane. Note—Bishop Isaac I