t\\e ThoZi^ht of Goc Book. H^aT :;.: COPYRIGHT DEPOSm THE THOUGHT OF GOD IN HYMNS AND POEMS Cfjree ^erieg in ©ne FREDERICK L. HOSMER AND WILLIAM C. GANNETT iFirst .Series BOSTON THE BEACON PRESS 1918 Nfv'N^^S^ ^ ^ K^ Copyright, 1885, i8g4, iQfS BY FREDERICK L. HOSMER AND WILLIAM C. GANNETT Stanbope press F. H. GILSON COMPANY BOSTON, U. S. A. NOV i3i9i8 ©C!.A50(>548 TO S. C. H. TO K. G. W. CONTENTS PAGE The Thought of God F. L. H. . . 9 Listening for God W. C. G. . . 11 The Mystery of God P, L. H. . . 13 Consider the Lilies, How they Grow W. C. G. • . 15 The Secret Place of the Most High " . . 17 The Indwelling God F. L. H. . . 19 The Highway W. C. G. . . 21 A Psalm of Trust F. L. H. . . 23 Glories that Remain W. C. G. . . 25 The Larger Faith F. L. H. . . 27 The Stream of Faith W. C. G. . . 29 Found F. L. H. . . 31 Theodore W. C. G. . . 33 My Dead F. L. H. . . 35 Green Pastures and Still Waters . W. C. G. . . 37 Father, to Thee F. L. H. . . 39 Through Unknown Paths .... " . . 41 He that Inhabiteth Eternity . . . " . . 43 On the Mount ** . . 45 VI CONTENTS PAOE Loyalty F. L. H. , . 47 Passing Understanding ... " . . 49 The Sunny Side W. C. G. . . 51 Flower Sunday F. L. H. . . 53 The Little Ones " . . 54 Christmas W. C. G. . . 55 The Children's Service , . . . F. L, H. . . 57 Jesus fFAo? W. C. G. . . 60 Christmas . , . F. L. H. . . 63 Jesus " . . 65 The Year of the Lord . . . . W. C. G. . . 67 The New Year F L. H. . . 69 The Day ... " . . 72 The Hills of the Lord . . . , W. C. G. . . 74 Sunday on the Hill-top .... "... 77 The Cathedral ....... " . . 80 The Past " . . 84 Summer Chemistry " . . 87 Where Did it Go ? " . . 89 Recognition ** . . 91 In a Look " . , 95 The Fiftieth Anniversary ... •' . . 97 The Teacher " . . 99 The Cliff at Newport . . . . F. L. H. . . 100 In Sleep " . . 101 Ministry " . . 103 The Minister's Journey . . . W. C. Q. . . 104 In Twos •« , . 107 CONTENTS vii FAQE Poem and Dogma W. C. G. . . 110 The Halo « . . 113 Not All There " . . 115 Let it Begin Here ! «* . . 117 Aunt Phillis's Guest " . . 119 The Negro Burying-ground . , " . . 123 Gettysburg in 1885 «« . . 126 The Right Goes Marching On . ♦* . . 129 Our Country F. L. H. . . 131 THE THOUGHT OF GOD One thought I have, my ample creed, So deep it is and broad, And equal to my every need, — It is the thought of God. Each morn unfolds some fresh surprise, I feast at Life's full board ; And rising in my inner skies Shines forth the thought of God. At night my gladness is my prayer; I drop my daily load. And every care is pillowed there Upon the thought of God. I ask not far before to see. But take in trust my road ; Life, death, and immortality Are in my thought of God. 10 THE THOUGHT OF GOD To this their secret strength they owed The martyr's path who trod ; The fountains of their patience flowed From out their thought of God. Be still the light upon my way, My pilgrim staff and rod, My rest by night, my strength by day, blessed thought of God 1 1880 LISTENING FOR GOD I HEAR it often in the dark, I hear it in the light, — Where is the voice that calls to me With such a quiet might ? It seems but echo to my thought, And yet beyond the stars ; It seems a heart-beat in a hush, And yet the planet jars ! Oh, may it be that far within My inmost soul there lies A spirit-sky, that opens with Those voices of surprise ? And can it be, by night and day, That j&rmament serene Is just the heaven, where God himself. The Father, dwells unseen ? 12 LISTENING FOR GOD God within, so close to me That every thought is plain, Be Judge, be Friend, be Father still, And in thy heaven reign ! Thy heaven is mine, — my very soul! Thy words are sweet and strong ; They fill my inward silences With music and with song. They send me challenges to right, And loud rebuke my ill ; They ring my bells of victory, They breathe my ' Peace, be still ! They ever seem to say, — ' My child, Why seek me so all day ? Now journey inward to thyself. And listen by the way I ' Milwaukee, 1870 THE MYSTERY OF GOD O Thou, in all thy might so far, la all thy love so near, Beyond the range of sun and star, And yet beside us here, — What heart can comprehend thy name, Or, searching, find thee out, Who art within, a quickening Flame, A Presence round about ? Yet though I know thee but in part, I ask not, Lord, for more : Enough for me to know thou art, To love thee and adore. O sweeter now than aught besides. The tender mystery That like a veil of shadow hides The Light I may not see ! 14 THE MYSTERY OF GOD And dearer than all things I know- Is childlike faith to me, That makes the darkest way I go An open path to thee. 1876 CONSIDER THE LILIES, HOW THEY GROW He hides within the lily A strong and tender care, That wins the earth-born atoms To glory of the air ; He weaves the shining garments Unceasingly and still, Along the quiet waters, In niches of the hill. We linger at the vigil With him who bent the knee To watch the old-time lilies In distant Galilee ; And still the worship deepens And quickens into new, As brightening down the ages God's secret thrilleth through. 16 CONSIDER THE LILIES Toiler of the lily, Thy touch is in the Man ! No leaf that dawns to petal But hints the angel-plan. The flower-horizons open ! The blossom vaster shows ! We hear thy wide worlds echo, — See how the lily grows ! Shy yearnings of the savage, Unfolding thought by thought, To holy lives are lifted, To visions fair are wrought ; The races rise and cluster, And evils fade and fall, Till chaos blooms to beauty, Thy purpose crowning all ! F. R. A. Festival, 1873 THE SECRET PLACE OF THE MOST HIGH The Lord is in his Holy Place In all things near and far! Shekinah of the snowflake, he, And Glory of the star, And Secret of the April land That stirs the field to flowers, Whose little tabernacles rise To hold him through the hours. He hides himself within the love Of those whom we love best ; The smiles and tones that make our homes Are shrines by him possessed ; He tents within the lonely heart And shepherds every thought ; We find him not by seeking long, — We lose him not, unsought. 2 18 SECRE T PLACE OP THE MOST HIGH Our art may build its Holy Place, Our feet on Sinai stand, But Holiest of Holies knows No tread, no touch of hand ; The listening soul makes Sinai still Wherever we may be, And in the vow, ' Thy will be done ! * Lies all Gethsemane. For C. W. W., Chicago, 1873 THE INDWELLING GOD * that I knew where I might find him !' Go not, my soul, in search of him, Thou wilt not find him there, — Or in the depths of shadow dim, Or heights of upper air. For not in far-off realms of space The Spirit hath its throne ; In every heart it findeth place And waiteth to be known. Thought answereth alone to thought, And Soul with soul hath kin ; The outward God he findeth not Who finds not God within. And if the vision come to thee Kevealed by inward sign, Earth will be full of Deity And with his glory shine! 20 THE INDWELLING GOD Thou Shalt not want for company Nor pitch thy tent alone ; The indwelling God will go with thee And show thee of his own. gift of gifts, grace of grace, That God should condescend To make thy heart his dwelling-place And be thy daily Friend I Then go not thou in search of him, But to thyself repair ; Wait thou within the silence dim And thou shalt find him there I 1879 THE HIGHWAY * Whatever road I take joins the highway that leads to thee.' When the night is still and far, Watcher from the shadowed deeps ! When the morning breaks its bar, Life that shines and wakes and leaps 1 When old Bible- verses glow, Starring all the deep of thought, Till it fills with quiet dawn From the peace our years have brought, — Sun within both skies, we see How all lights lead back to thee 1 'Cross the field of daily work Run the footpaths, leading — where ? Run they east or run they west, One way all the workers fare. 22 THE HIGHWAY Every awful thing of earth, — Sin and pain and battle-noise ; Every dear thing, — baby's birth, Faces, flowers, or lovers' joys, — Is a wicket-gate, where we Join the great highway to thee ! Restless, restless, speed we on, — Whither in the vast unknown ? Not to you and not to me Are the sealed orders shown : But the Hand that built the road, And the Light that leads the feet, And this inward restlessness. Are such invitation sweet, That where I no longer see. Highway still must lead to thee I For J. W. C, Brooklyn, 1876 A PSALM OF TRUST I LITTLE see, I little know, Yet can I fear no ill: He who hath guided me till now Will be my leader still. No burden yet was on me laid Of trouble or of care, But he my trembling step hath stayed, And given me strength to bear. I came not hither of my will Or wisdom of mine own: That higher Power upholds me still, And still must bear me on. I knew not of this wondrous earth. Nor dreamed what blessings lay Beyond the gates of human birth To glad my future way. 24 A PSALM OF TRUST And what beyond this life may be As little I divine, — What love may wait to welcome me, What fellowships be mine. I know not what beyond may lie, But look, in humble faith, Into a larger life to die And find new birth in death. He will not leave my soul forlorn ; I still must find him true, Whose mercies have been new each morn And every evening new. Upon his providence I lean, As lean in faith I must: The lesson of my life hath been A heart of grateful trust. And so my onward way I fare With happy heart and calm, And mingle with my daily care The music of my psalm. 1883 GLOEIES THAT REMAIN 'If that which is done away was glorious, much more that which rewMiineth is glorious. ' Fairer grows the earth each morning To the eyes that watch aright ; Every dew-drop sparkles warning Of a miracle in sight ; Of some nnsuspected glory "Waiting in the old and plain ; Poet's dream nor traveller's story Words such wonders as remain. Everywhere the gate of Beauty Fresh across the pathway swings, As we follow truth or duty Inward to the heart of things; And we enter, foolish mortals, Thinking now the heart to find, — There to gaze on vaster portals ! Still the Glory lies behind ! 6 GLORIES THAT REMAIN Faith I love ! I love you deeper As I press your portals through, Heeding not the call of keeper, Heeding sole the vision new ! All our creeds are hinting only Of a faith of nobler strain : God is living ! are we lonely- 'Mid his glories that remain ? P. R. A. Festival, 1874 THE LARGER FAITH We pray no more, made lowly wise, For miracle and sign ; Anoint our eyes to see within The common the divine. * Lo here, lo there,' no more we cry, Dividing with our call The mantle of thy presence, Lord, That seamless covers all. We turn from seeking thee afar And in unwonted ways, To build from out our daily lives The temples of thy praise. And if thy casual comings. Lord, To hearts of old were dear. What joy shall dwell within the faith That feels thee ever near 1 28 THE LARGER FAITH And nobler yet shall duty grow, And more shall worship be, When thou art found in all our life, And all our life in thee. 1879 THE STREAM OF FAITH From heart to heart, from creed to creed, The hidden river runs ; It quickens all the ages down, It binds the sires to sons, — The stream, of Faith, whose source is G-od, Whose sound, the sound of prayer, Whose meadows are the holy lives Upspringing everywhere. How deep it flowed in olden time, When men by it were strong To dare the untrod wilderness, Charmed on by river-song! Where'er they passed by hill or shore, They gave the song a voice, Till all the craggy land had heard The Father's Faith rejoice. 30 THE STREAM OF FAITH And still it moves, a broadening flood ; And fresher, fuller grows A sense as if the sea were near, Towards which the river flows ! O thou, who art the secret Source That rises in each soul. Thou art the Ocean too, — thy charm, That ever-deepening roll ! For J. M., Newburyport, 1875 FOUND They that know thy name will put their trust in thee Name, all other names above, What art thou not to me, Now I have learned to trust thy love And cast my care on thee I What is our being but a cry, A restless longing still, Which thou alone canst satisfy, Alone thy fulness fill ! Thrice blessed be the holy souls That lead the way to thee, That burn upon the martyr-rolls And lists of prophecy. And sweet it is to tread the ground O'er which their faith hath trod ; But sweeter far, when thou art found, The soul's own sense of God ! 2 FOUND The thought of thee all sorrow calms ; Our anxious burdens fall ; His crosses turn to triumph-palms Who finds in God his all. 1878 THEODOEE O Heart of all the shining day, The green earth's still Delight, Thou Freshness in the morning wind, Thou Silence of the night. Thou Beauty of our temple-walls, Thou Strength within the stone, — What is it we can offer thee That is not first thine own ? Old memories throng : we think of those Awhile with us who trod, Whose hands yet lift within our lives, — We called them ' Gift of God : ' And thine these shinings in our thought, This eager, love- wrought hope, This deathless faith they wait and watch On some fair upper slope. 3 34 THEODORE O, solemn-sweet the sureness grows, When such as they have passed ; The darkness fills, the silence thrills, Their life pervades the Vast ; The vanished virtue quickens through And touches every star ; Their unseen love — we know it thine, Thy Living Love they are ! Parker Memorial Dedication, 1873 MY DEAD I CANNOT think of them as dead Who walk with me no more ; Along the path of life I tread They have but gone before. The Father's house is mansioned fair Beyond my vision dim ; All souls are his, and here or there Are living unto him. And still their silent ministry Within my heart hath place, As when on earth they walked with me And met me face to face. Their lives are made forever mine; What they to me have been Hath left henceforth its seal and sign Engraven deep within. 36 MV DEAD Mine are they by an ownership Nor time nor death can free ; For God hath given to Love to keep Its own eternally. GREEN PASTURES AND STILL WATERS Clear in memory's silent reaches Lie the pastures I have seen, Greener than the sun-lit spaces Where the May has flung her green: Needs no sun and needs no starlight To illume these fields of mine, For the glory of dead faces Is the sun, the stars, that shine. More than one I count my pastures As my life-path groweth long ; By their quiet waters straying Oft I lay me, and am strong. And I call each by its giver, And the dear names bring to them Glory as from shining faces In some New Jerusalem. 38 GREEN PASTURES Yet, well I can remember, Once I called my pastures, Pain, And their waters were a torrent Sweeping through my life amain ! Now I call them Peace and Stillness, Brightness of all Happy Thought, Where I linger for a blessing From my faces that are nought. Nought ? I fear not. If the Power Maketh thus his pastures green, Maketh thus his quiet waters, Out of waste his heavens serene, I can trust the mighty Shepherd Loseth none he ever led ; Somewhere yet a greeting waits me On the faces of my dead ! F. R. A. Festival, 187T FATHER, TO THEE Father, to thee we look in all our sorrow, Thou art the fountain whence our healing flows ; Dark though the night, joy cometh with the morrow ; Safely they rest who on thy love repose. When fond hopes fail and skies are dark be- fore us, When the vain cares that vex our life in- crease, — Comes with its calm the thought that thou art o'er us, And we grow quiet, folded in thy peace. Nought shall affright us on thy goodness leaning, Low in the heart faith singeth still her 40 FATHER, TO THEE Chastened by pain we learn life's deeper meaning, And in our weakness thou dost make us strong. Patient, heart, though heavy be thy sorrows I Be not cast down, disquieted in vain ; Yet shalt thou praise him when these dark- ened furrows. Where now he plougheth, wave with golden grain. 1881 THROUGH UNKNOWN PATHS THOU who art of all that is Beginning both and end, We follow thee through unknown paths, Since all to thee must tend: Thy judgments are a mighty deep Beyond all fathom-line ; Our wisdom is the childlike heart, Our strength, to trust in thine. We bless thee for the skies above, And for the earth beneath, For hopes that blossom here below And wither not with death ; But most we bless thee for thyself, heavenly Light within, Whose dayspring in our hearts dispels The darkness of our sin. 42 THROUGH UNKNOWN PATHS Be thou in joy our deeper joy, Our comfort when distressed ; Be thou by day our strength for toil, And thou by night our rest. And when these earthly dwellings fail And Time's last hour is come, Be thou, God, our dwelling-place And our eternal home 1 1877 HE THAT INHABITETH ETEKNITS Who does not feel how weak Are all our words to speak Of him, the Infinite, — Below all depth, ahove all height ! Yet hath no other speech To me such wondrous reach As this the prophet saith : that he Inhabiteth Eternity ! We dwell in Time : our ear Is deafened by things near ; Darkly we see, and know Only in part, also. From troubles that annoy Plucking no future joy, Sweetening failure's bitterness With no deferred but sure success, — As if the passing hour were all, With it we rise and fall : The while that he Inhabiteth Eternity! 44 HE THAT INHABITETH ETERNITY Patient and suffering long With man's mistakes and wrong ; Seeing how all threads come In place in Time's vast loom, And in the finished web fulfil The pattern of his perfect will ; To whom as one is seen What is, will be, hath been, — Tranquil and lifted clear Above our fevered atmosphere, Forever dweUeth he In the sure strength of his Eternity ! Father of my life, Give me, amid its strife, To bear within my breast The secret of thy rest, — The river of thy peace within, Whose banks are always fresh and green ; Give me, while here in Time I be. Also to dwell with thee in thine Eternity. 1879 ON THE MOUNT Not alwcays on the mount may we Rapt in the heavenly vision be; The shores of thought and feeling know The Spirit's tidal ebb and flow. Lord, it is good abiding here — We cry, the heavenly presence near : The vision vanishes, our eyes Are lifted into vacant skies 1 Yet hath one such exalted hour Upon the soul redeeming power. And in its strength through after day8 We travel our appointed ways ; Till all the lowly vale grows bright Transfigured in remembered light, And in untiring souls we bear The freshness of the upper air. 46 ON THE MOUNT The mount for vision, — but below The paths of daily duty go, And nobler life therein shall own The pattemi on the mountain shown. LOYALTY When courage fails, and faith burns low, And men are timid grown, Hold fast thy loyalty, and know That Truth still moveth on. For unseen messengers she hath To work her will and ways, And even human scorn and wrath God turneth to her praise. She can both meek and lordly be, In heavenly might secure ; With her is pledge of victory, And patience to endure. The race is not unto the swift, The battle to the strong, When dawn her judgment-days that sift The claims of riyht and wrone:. 48 LOYALTY And more than thou canst do for Truth Can she on thee confer, If thou. heart, but give thy youth And manhood unto her. For she can make thee inly bright, Thy self-love purge away, And lead thee in the path whose light Shines to the perfect day. Who follow her, though men deride, In her strength shall be strong ; Shall see their shame become their pride, And share her triumph-song ! 1881 PASSING UNDERSTANDING The peace of God, that passeth all understanding.* Many things in life there are Past our ' understanding ' far, And the humblest flower that grows Hides a secret no man knows. All unread by outer sense Lies the souPs experience ; Mysteries around us rise, We, the deeper mysteries ! Who hath scales to weigh the love That from heart to heart doth move, The divine unrest within, Or the keen remorse for sin ? Who can map those tracks of light Where the fancy wings its flight, Or to outer vision trace Thought's mysterious dwelling-place ? 4 50 PASSING UNDERSTANDING Who can sound the silent sea Where, with sealed orders, we Voyage from birth's forgotten shore Toward the unknown land before 1 While we may so little scan Of thy vast creation's plan, Teach us, our God, to be Humble in our walk with thee ! May we trust, through ill and good, Thine unchanging Fatherhood, And our highest wisdom find In the reverent heart and mind ! Clearer vision shall be ours. Larger wisdom, ampler powers, And the meaning yet appear Of what passes knowledge here. THE SUNNY SIDE A SILVERY tide, called * Sunny Side,* Goes creeping around the earth, And never a place but wins a grace In the jubilant flood of mirth, From the dancing gleam on the fretted stream To the dimple on baby's cheek, That in and out, to his merry shout, Twinkles a hide-and-seek. Wherever it goes, the darkness glows And men and women sing ; It fills their eyes with a glad surprise, And stays their sorrowing ; The heart is a-tune, the world is June, Nothing is old or gray, As it passes along with the swell of a song, Like a musical break of day. 62 THE SUNNY SIDE Spirit of Love, in the blue above Who makest the sun to flame, Who guidest the flight of the planet bright, And callest the stars by name, It is thou dost hide in the ' Sunny Side,' And creepest from heart to heart 1 And, soul or clod, we share the God, Who comes, — and the shadows part ! 1875 FLOWER SUNDAY The rose is queen among the flowers, None other is so fair : The lily nodding on her stem With fragrance fills the air. But sweeter than the lily's breath And than the rose more fair, The tender love of human hearts That springeth everywhere. The rose will fade and fall away, The lily too will die : But love shall live for evermore Beyond the starry sky. Then sweeter than the lily's breath And than the rose more fair, The tender love of human hearts Upspringing everywhere. 1875 THE LITTLE ONES Children's Sunday All hidden lie the future ways Their little feet shall fare ; But holy thoughts within us stir And rise on lips of prayer. To us beneath the noonday heat, Dust-stained and travel- worn, How beautiful their robes of white, The freshness of their morn I Within us wakes the childlike heart, Back rolls the tide of years ; The silent wells of memory start And flow in happy tears. little ones, ye cannot know The power with which ye plead, Nor why, as on through life we go. The little child doth lead. CHRISTMAS Still tlie angels sing on high, Still the bearded men draw nigh, Bringing worship with the morn, When a little child is born ; Baby-glory in the place, Star-look on the mother's face, Psalm within the mother's heart, — Christmas all in counterpart ! Quaintest wight that ever stirred, With thy ears that never heard, Eyes that eye a brand-new world, Tiny limbs but half uncurled. Wee-bit Adam ! wee-bit Christ ! Earth, by thee new-paradised , Blooms to miracles again, Echoes God's ' Good- will to men ! * 56 CHRISTMAS Blessings on the little child In the cave far-off and wild ! For that nursery divine Tells me well, baby mine, That fkou art Emmanuel, * God with ws,' come here to dwell, Come to say, ' Since time began. Son of God is Son of Man.* 1876 THE CHILDEEN'S SERVICE From the German of Karl GeroTe The churcli-bells for service are ringing, The father and mother have gone ; And three little golden-haired children Are left in the doorway alone. For these are too young for the meeting — The busy and frolicsome elves — So they think to praise God like their elders With a holy-time all by themselves 1 Each one a big volume has taken And holds it top-down 'gainst the breast ; Forthwith the devout little mimics Sing out in their loudest and best ! They know not themselves what they 're singing, And each takes a tune of his own : — Sing on, ye children, your voices Are heard at the heavenly throne ! 58 THE CHILDREN'S SERVICE And there stand your angels in glory, While songs to the Father they raise, Who out of the mouths of the children Hath perfected worship and praise. Sing on ; over there in the garden There singeth an answering choir ; 'T is the brood of light-hearted birdlings That chirp in the bloom-laden brier. Sing on ; there is trust in your music, — The Father, he asks not for more ; Quick flieth the heart that is sinless Like a dove to the heavenly door. Sing on ; we sing who are older, Yet little we too understand : And our Bibles, how often we hold them The bottom-side up in our hand ! Sing on ; in the songs of our service We follow each note of the card ; But alas, in our strife with each other How oft is the melody marred ! THE CHILDREN'S SERVICE 69 Sing on ; for earth's loftiest music Though ever so fine and so clear, What is it ? The lisping of children, A breath in the Infinite ear ! 1877 JESUS fVHO? 'The other day I told' my very little dnughter, answering a question of hers, that a certain picture was Jesus. "Jesus WHO ? " said she — " Jesus God ? " ' And are the children prophets, then, Or have they lived before, To speak the words so simple-wise, And babble spirit-lore ? Their wonder plays on questions quaint, All vision and surprise, Like clumsy gates whose careless swing Reveals hall' Paradise, Yes, little May^ you 've said it, — * God ' is his other name ; Ours always ends with Father's ; Yours is the very same. JESUS WHO? 61 Our earth is one home only, Our Father only one, A.nd all the folks are brothers, And every one his son. And up and dowoi the city Wherever you have trod, It 's Mary-, Maud-, and Katy-, John-God, and Willie-God. Life and Love, in whom we are, From whom, to whom all lives, 1 thank thee for the christening Thy little prophet gives. The simple Bible long ago Hinted the secret well, When child-faith named its hero-babes, * Judah ' and ' Israel.' ^ Why strangely sounds the name divine Blending with ours to-day ? Is God an ancient lost afar, A fashion gone for aye ? * ' Judah,' i. e.^ Praise God : ' Israel/ i. e., God strives. JESUS WHO? Ah, no, but thought too awful grows For name or speech or look : In silent floods the secret pours That babbled in the brook. 1871 CHRISTMAS To-day be joy in every heart, For lo, the angel throng Once more above the listening earth Repeats the advent song ; * Peace on the earth, good- will to men ! ' Before us goes the star That leads us on to holier births And life diviner far ! Ye men of strife, forget to-day Your harshness and your hate ; Too long ye stay the promised years For which the nations wait ! And ye upon the tented field. Sheathe, sheathe to-day the sword ! By love, and not by might, shall come The kingdom of the Lord. 64 CHRISTMAS star of human faith and hope ! Thy light shall lead us on, Until it fades in morning's glow, And heaven on earth is won. 1877 JESUS Immortal by their deed and word. Like light around them shed, Still speak the prophets of the Lord, Still live the sainted dead. The voice of old by Jordan's flood Yet floats upon the air ; We hear it in beatitude, In parable and prayer. And still the beauty of that life Shines star-like on our way, And breathes its calm amid the strife And burden of to-day. Earnest of life forevermore, That life of duty here, — The trust that in the darkest hour Looked forth and knew no fear ! 5 66 JESUS Spirit of Jesus, still speed on ! Speed on thy conquering way, Till every heart the Father own, And all his will obey 1 1880 THE YEAR OF THE LORD Praise to God and thanksgiving ! Hearts, bow down, and voices, sing ! Praises to tlie Glorious One, All his year of wonder done ! Praise him for his budding green, April's resurrection-scene : Praise him for his shining hours, Starring all the land with flowers : Praise him for his summer rain, Feeding, day and night, the grain : Praise him for his tiny seed. Holding all his world shall need I Praise him for his garden root, Meadow grass and orchard fruit : Praise for hills and valleys broad, — Each the Table of the Lord ! 68 THE YEAR OF THE LORD Praise liim now for snowy rest, Falling soft on Nature's breast : Praise for liappy dreams of birth Brooding in the q^uiet earth ! For his year of wonder done, Praise to the All-Glorious One ! Hearts, bow down, and voices, sing Praise and love and thanksgiving ! Harvest Festival, St. Paul, 1882 THE NEW YEAR * Behold,' — in vision said The Voice to John on Patmos — * I make all things new ! ' Vanish before his view The earth and heavens old ; In splendor manifold New heavens and earth appear To the enraptured seer: And lo ! descending from the skies, Fairer than storied paradise, He saw the New Jerusalem, — Apparelled as a bride With gold and precious gem, — And heard a Voice that cried : ' God's dwelling is with men. And he will wipe away all tears. And death shall be no more, nor pain 70 THE NEW YEAR Passed are the things of former years : Behold, I make all things new ! Write: for faithful are these words and true. So speaks to thee, O heart, As the swift years depart The re-creating Voice. Turn not in vain regret To thy fond yesterdays, But rather forward set Thy face toward the untrodden ways. Open thine eyes to see The good in store for thee, — New love, new thought, new service too For him who dail}'- niaketh thy life new. Nor think thou aught is lost Or left behind upon the silent coast Of thy spent years ; Give o'er thy faithless fears, Whate'er of real good — Of thought, or deed, or holier mood — Thy life hath known Abideth still thine own, And. hath within significance THE NEW YEAR 71 Of more than Time's inheritance. Thy good is prophecy Of better still to be. In the future thou shalt find How far the Fact hath left behind Thy fondest Dream ; how deeper than all sense Or thought of thine, thy life's sure Provi- dence 1 1881 THE DAY Routine of duties, Commonplace cares, — Angels disguised Entertained unawares ;- Sweet human fellowsliips Kindred and near, Drawing the soul from Its self atmosphere ; The book's friendly company, Leading along To fields of new knowledge And uplands of song ; In-shinings of Nature, Morning's red bars, Waysides in beauty, Night with its stars j THE DAY 73 The nearer conimunion In silence apart, When thought blooms to prayer And song fills the heart, While the things unseen Grow more and more real, And life deepens and broadens Toward larger ideal : — How many the blessings Each day has to give The soul that is seeking Truly to live! 1885 THE HILLS OF THE LORD God ploughed one day with an earthquake, And drove his furrows deep ! The huddling plains upstarted, The hills were all a-leap ! But that is the mountain's secret, Age-hidden in their breast ; • God's peace is everlasting,' Are the dream-words of their rest. He hath made them the haunt of beauty, The home elect of his grace ; He spreadeth his mornings on them, His sunsets light their face. His thunders tread in music Of footfalls echoing long, A.nd carry majestic greeting Around the silent throng. THE HILLS OP THE LORD 75 His winds bring messages to them, Wild storm-news from the main ; They sing it down to the valleys In the love-song of the rain. Green tribes from far come trooping, And over the uplands flock ; He weaveth the zones together In robes for his risen rock. They are nurseries for young rivers ; Nests for his flying cloud ; Homesteads for new-born races, Masterful, free, and proud. The people of tired cities Come up to their shrines and pray ; God freshens again within them. As he passes by all day. And lo, I have caught their secret, The beauty deeper than all, This faith, — that life's hard moments, When the jarring sorrows befall, 76 THE HILLS OP THE LORD Are but God ploughing his mountains ; And the mountains yet shall be The source of his grace and freshness And his peace everlasting to me. Whitefield, 1870 SUNDAY ON THE HILL-TOP Only ten miles from the city, — And how I am lifted away To the peace that passeth knowing, And the light that is not of day ! All alone on the hill-top ! Nothing but God and me, And the spring-time's resurrection, Far shinings of the sea. The river's laugh in the valley, Hills dreaming of their past ; And all things silently opening, Opening into the Yast ! Eternities past and future Seem clinging to all I see, And things immortal cluster Around my bended knee. 78 SUNDAY ON THE HILL-TOP That pebble — is older than Adam ! Secrets it hath to tell ; These rocks — they cry out history, Could I but listen well. That pool knows the ocean-feeling Of storm and moon-led tide ; The sun finds its East and West therein, And the stars find room to glide. That lichen's crinkled circle Creeps with the Life Divine, Where the Holy Spirit loitered On its way to this face of mine, — On its way to the shining faces Where angel-lives are led, And / am the lichen's circle That creeps with the tiny tread. I can hear these violets chorus To the sky's benediction above: — And we all are together lying On the bosom of Infinite Love. SUNDAY ON THE HILL-TOP 79 I — I am a part of the poem, Of its every sight and sound ; For my heart beats inward rhymings To the Sabbath that lies around. Oh, the peace at the heart of Nature ! Oh, the light that is not of day ! Why seek it afar forever, When it cannot be lifted away f Blue Hill, May 21, 1871 THE CATHEDRAL Shelf over shelf the mountain rose ; And, as we climbed, they seemed the stair That scales a minster's wall to seek Some high-hid cell of prayer. But every stair was carpeted With mosses soft of gray and green, And gold and crimson arabesques Trailed in and out between. Up, up, o*er ferny pavements still, O'er dim mosaics of the wood. O'er rocky terraces, we trod, Till on the height we stood. About the ancient mountain-walls The silent wildernesses clung ; In solemn frescos, moving slow. The clouds their shadows flung. THE CATHEDRAL 81 Along the valley-deeps below The shimmer of a forest floor, — A leafy brightness, like the sea, Wide twinkling o'er and o'er. Niched in the mighty minster, we, Beneath the dome of radiant blue : Cathedral-hush on every side, And worship breathing through ! There came wild music on the winds. The chanting of the forest choir, Shaken across the ranged hills As over a chorded lyre. Then pauses as for quiet prayer. And lulls, in which the listeners heard Home- voices speak, while faces neared Swifter than any bird. Of Strength eternal, by whose will The hills their steadfast places keep, Whose Eight is like the mountains high. Whose Judgments are a deep, — 6 82 THE CATHEDRAL In grand old Bible verse we spoke, And following close like echoes sped The poems best beloved. The words Along the silence fled. The Silence, awful Living Word Behind all sound, behind all thought, Whose speech is Nature-yet-to-be, The Poem yet unwrought ! That day it spake within the soul. Through sense all strangely blent with sbnse. The vision took majestic rhythm, — We heard the firmaments I And listened, time and space forgot, As flowed the lesson for the day, — * Order is Beauty ; Law is Love ; Childlike his worlds obey.' And all the heaven seemed folding down Above the shining earth's sweet face, Till in our hearts they touched ! We, felt The thrill of their embrace. THE CATHEDRAL 83 Then, in its peace, we wandered down Our rocky staircase from the height ; On dini mosaics of the wood We met the climbing Night. Sunday on * Bald Cap,' September, 1876 THE PAST For us no Past ? Nay, what is present sweet- ness But yesterdays dissolving in to-day ? No Past ? It flowers in every new complete- ness, And scarce from eye and ear can hide away. These berries, mottling blue the rocky hol- lows, Still cluster with the blossom-trick of June ; The cloud-led shadow loiters there and fol- lows O'er crags sun-stained by centuries of noon ; Yon aged pine waves young defiant gesture When hustling winds pant by in wild sea- mood ; The valley's grace in all its shining vesture, — Ages have carved it from the solitude ; THE PAST 85 Low sings the stream in murmurs faint re- calling The chant of floods the solitude once heard; And this wide quiet on the hill-tops falling Made hush at eves that listener never stirred. And as on %is it falls, our laughter stilling, Dim echoes cross it of all old delight! The joy, along the soul's far reaches thrilling To glory of the summer day and night. Has been inwrought by many a summer-hour Of past selves long forgot, — enrichment slow, Attuning mind and heart with mystic power To the fresh marvel of this sunset's glow. I think we see our valley's brightness brighter For faces that once brightened by our side ; The peace of the eternal mountains deepens At thought of peace on faces that have died. For us no Past ? Nay, what is present sweet- ness? Dear yesterdays dissolving in to-day ! 86 THE PAST The Past — it flowers in every new complete- ness Of thouglit, faith, hope ; and so shall be for aye. Sunset on * Crow Nest,' August, 1875 SUMMER CHEMISTRY WTiat does it take A day to make, — A day at the Bear Camp Ossipee ? White clouds a-sail in the shining blue, Dropping a shadow to dredge the lands ; A mountain-wind, and a marching storm. And a sound in the trees like waves on sands ; A mist to soften the shaggy side Of the great green hill, till it lies as dim As the hills in a childhood memory ; The crags and the ledges silver-chased. Where yesterday's rainy runlets raced ; The back of an upland pasture steep, With delicate fern-beds notching wide The dark wood-line where the birches keep Candlemas all the summer-tide ; Brown-flashing across the meadow bright The stream that gems its malachite; And, watching his valley, Chocorua grim, And a golden sunset watching him ! 88 SUMMER CHEMISTRY Add — fifty lives of young and old, Of tired and sad, of strong and bold, And every heart a deeper sea Than its own owner dreams can be ; Add eyes whose glances have the law Of coursing planets in their draw ; Add careless hands that touch and part. And hands that greet with a heaven's sense ; Add little children in their glee Uprunning to a mother's knee, Their earliest altar ; add her heart, Their feeble, brooding Providence : — Add this to that, and thou shalt see What goes to summer chemistry, — What the God takes. Each time he makes One summer-day at Ossipee. Bear Camp River House, West Ossipie, August, 1877 WHERE DID IT GO? Where did yesterday's sunset go, When it faded down the hills so slow, And the gold grew dim, and the purple light Like an army with banners passed from sight 1 Will its flush go into the golden-rod, Its thrill to the purple aster's nod, Its crimson fleck the maple-bough. And the Autumn-glory begin from now ? Deeper than flower-fields sank the glow Of the silent pageant passing slow. It flushed all night in many a dream. It thrilled in the folding hush of prayer, It glided into a poet's song, It is setting still in a picture rare ; 90 WHERE DID IT GO ? It changed by the miracle none can see To the shifting lights of a symphony ; And in resurrections of faith and hope The glory died on the shining slope. For it left its light on the hills and seas That rim a thousand memories. West Ossipee, 1877 EECOGNITION Twice have I turned to hear a tone, And thrice have I seen a look, That tell me well the soul that I love Is to me but a sealed book. 'T was only the name of her little child, And a ' Darling ! ' one day as she kissed ; But twice those household words were strains Out of exquisite music missed. I remember the raptured hour she stood With love-light haloing her, When her lips were dim in the crimson tides From the deeps of joy astir : And once, 'mid the pain of farewell tears For an exile seaward doomed, How her form upreached like a quivering stem And a new face suddenly bloomed : 92 RECOGNITION And then, a day in a shaded room, A day in the valley of Death ; — She must journey and wrestle alone, — and we We waited with bated breath, Until the radiant marvel broke Of her resurrection-face, And the weary eyes, her victory won, So peacefully filled with grace. Three days that star-look on us beamed, And the bed was a holy shrine, Where soft we worshipped the new-born Child (yerhung by the Mother's sign ! Slowly it faded, and welcome grew For the old dear eyes returned, — The light of our home, but not the eyes Where the angel-look had burned. Do you wonder an awe enfolds my love For the presence with whom I dwell, — My inmost friend, but a stranger too. Whom I know not over well ? RECOGNITION 93 Her soul to me is an Upper Land, Where mornings rise unseen On pathless mountain-mysteries And dells of hidden green. I am so glad of her gardens sweet Too sacred for me to walk, So glad of the sunlit heights too far To echo our mingled talk ! And I try to climb and listen and watch ; For may he the sense will grow, Till into her loneliness I may press And all of her sweetness know ! A marvel ! But what if there be a truth Passing in wonder this ? Can she be to herself as dim, unknown, And the best of her nature miss ? Can there be in us all those heights of will And shadowy deeps of thought, A land in the heart of each one's life With self-surprises fraught, — 94 RECOGNITION Whither, in sudden mystical hours When the conscious self is forgot, We are rapt as into an upper self, And stand in the light of a spot, Where are born those exquisite tones that stray- To startle the common days, And the look that heralds our angel-smile Dawns into our eyes and ways ? Only a minute, — and then we are hack In the meadows far below, Where the life-winds sweep and the life- streams run. And nought of their source we know ! I verily think that she I love Would hardly a meaning trace. Should I speak to her of that twice-heard tone And the thrice-iUumined face. 1872 IN A LOOK All the Morning in a face, — Fresliness of all happy space I Sense of sunrise in a sky Serious still with stars gone by ; Sense of song in waking woods, Winds a-laugh in solitudes, Dawn surprising dewy fields. Springing sounds as slumber yields, Breaths of prayer, the rush of wings, Morning, deep with happy things I Summer Twilight in a face ! Evening shadows stilling space j Two stars in a silent sky ; After- calm, — a sun gone by ; Wood-paths darkening, bird-song closing, Flowers on their stems reposing ; 96 IN A LOOK Widening, widening, from the grass Ehythmic tides of music pass, — Pass within, and hush the streams. Whose thought-babble dies in dreams! These before me seem to rise. When they look me in the eyes. THE FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY W. H. F. Fifty times the years have turned, Since the heart within him burned With its wistfulness to be An apostle sent of thee. Closely in his Master's tread Still to follow, till he read Tone of voice and look of face, Print of wound and sign of grace. Reading there for fifty years, Pressing after, till the tears And the smiles would come and go At the self-same joy and woe, — Sharing with him shouts of ' Mad 1' When the bold front to the bad Bent to pluck the 'little ones' From the feet of fellow-sons, — 7 93 THE FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY Sharing in his inner peace, Sharing all but his release, — He is with us while the chimes Ring our blessing fifty times. Listening boys across the field Hear, and hope they may not yield : Are they listening from the air, — Boys who started with him there ? Philadelphia, 1875 THE TEACHER G. R. N. A LIGHT Upon the harvest-field, A ' Well-done I ' in the air : ' Rest- Angel, only iveary yield ! ' Rose up his eager prayer. Again in work went by the day, Till working hands grew thin ; Once more the restful shining lay, — The old man entered in. A teacher he, in white-haired youth ; The body's cloister, old, — The spirit growing young with Truth Through birthdays manifold. A teacher he of oracles, And one his life did sing : The field lies always Harvest-ivhite, If inly lies the Spring. Cambkidge, 1868 THE CLIFF AT NEWPORT I WALK the Cliff, in earlier days oft trod By one whose advent brought new life to men ; A prophet of the soul, speaking again To earth-bound hearts of the deep things of God. Below, the passionate sea still beats in vain, And white sails gleam along the horizon broad ; The same sky bends above — beneath, the sod As then is freshened by the Summer rain. But, interfused with all, there shines to-day A beauty born not of the earth or skies, Making twice fair what was so fair before : 'T is that a noble Soul has passed this way, Leaving a holy memory to rise And speak to thought and feeling evermore. 1884 IN SLEEP L. N. R. • He giveth his Moved (in) sleep.' Not in our waking hours alone His constancy and care are known ; But locked in slumber fast and deep He giveth to us while we sleep. What giveth He ? From toil release, Quiet from God, night's starlit peace ; Till with the coming of the morn We greet the day, like it new-born. And pondering this mystery, There came a larger truth to me, — How in the sleep that we call death He sleepeth not nor slumbereth, But still sustains the silent soul Until the shadows backward roll, And with the passing of the night It wakens in immortal light! 102 IN SLEEP What giveth He ? No more again To know the touch of mortal pain ; All weakness past, each fetter riven, — For earth the larger life of heaven ! Dear friend, as o'er thy pallid face The tall white lilies breathed their peace, And stillness like a solitude Enwrapt the tearful multitude, How sweetly on that sea of calm Floated the music of the psalm, — The Spirit's voice upon the deep, — ' He giveth his beloved sleep ! ' Once more the sun with lavish hand Pours lengthening day along the land ; But not with spring-time bloom and bird Thy smile returns, thy voice is heard : Yet still we say the old-time words ' In life, in death, we are the Lord's : ' And trust thee to his love to keep Who giveth to his own in sleep. March 16, 1877 MINISTRY E. A. B. Just on the threshold of threescore-and- ten — An upward pathway, shining more and more — She heard the call, and passed within the door Whence none that enters ever comes again. Henceforth will Want await her step in vain, Wise Charity will have a lessened store : The beatings of a faithful heart are o'er, And struggling Truth has lost a loyal brain. Ah, foolish plaint! Hath God no other sphere For virtue's use, and love, and loyalty, That they should perish with the body's breath ? noble Friend, thy life's long service here Thou crownest now with its best ministry. And quickenest faith beside the door of death ! November, 1879 THE MINISTER'S JOURNEY Not to the lanes of England, Cathedral-aisles of France, Or up the mountain-hollows Where Alpine torrents glance ; Not in the storied cities And old highways of life, Where shadowy generations Have passed in song and strife ; Where Raphael hath painted, Or Socrates was born, Or prophets once were cradled In Nazareths of scorn ; — But on more wonderful journeys Than any the pilgrims know, Our traveller has been roving, — The book in his heart can sho\Y THE MINISTER'S JOURNEY 105 He has voyaged with the Captains Who sail the seas of thought, Daring with them the tempest, Hailing with them the port. And many a dreamer's island Has added to his lore The hope that made it Patmos, — One heavenly vision more. In lands men deemed unholy He gleaned from every clod Some treasure-trove, revealing Horizons new of God. Till Heathenesse grew homelike ; While the traveller's tale was still Of a Ceaseless Care, whose presence Out-worketh good from ill. And unto sacred places. The Palestines within, By pathways of the Spirit, Our traveller hath been. 106 THE MINISTER'S JOURNEY Along the silent beaches That men call Birth and Death, Rimming our fields of summer, Giving us ocean-breath, He paces as a watcher Watching the tidal sweep ; And his greeting is full of music Caught from the central deep. He knows the founts of laughter ; Where psalms in mothers rise ; How purpose dawns in manhood, And love in maiden eyes. In still lanes of confession, In solemn aisles of prayer. On Alps of high endeavor, — We meet him everywhere ! The others see but Europe, And go as feet may fare ; ■ Our pilgrim, still out-sailing, Sees many an Outre-Merl To J. W. C, December 19, 1884 IN TWOS Somewhere in the world there hide Garden-gates that no one sees Save they come in happy twos, — Not in ones, nor yet in threes. But from every maiden's door Leads a pathway straight and true ; Map and survey know it not, — He who finds, finds room for two I Then they see the garden-gates ! Never skies so blue as theirs, Never flowers so many-sweet. As for those who come in pairs. Round and round the alleys wind : Now a cradle bars the way. Now a little mound, behind, — So the two go through the day. 108 IN TWOS When no nook in all the lanes But has heard a song or sigh, Lo ! another garden-gate Opens as the two go by. In they wander, knowing not ; * Five and Twenty I ' fiUs the air With a silvery echo low, All about the startled pair. Happier yet these garden-walks : Closer, heart to heart, they lean ; Stiller, softer, falls the light; Few the twos, and far between. Till, at last, as on they pass Down the paths so well they know, Once again at hidden gates Stand the two : they enter slow. Golden Gates of ' Fifty Years,' May our two your latchet press ! Garden of the Sunset Land, Hold their dearest happiness 1 IN TWOS 109 Then a quiet walk again : Then a wicket in the wall: Then one, stepping on alone, — Then two at the Heart of All I December 22, 1879 POEM AND DOGMA 'T WAS Schliemann back from Troy, With relics bronze and gold : Where other eyes saw violets, He saw the city old. And, fondling a brown skull, — ' My learned friend,' said he, * Tells me that this a maiden's was, In Troy beyond the sea ; And from these angles here Of brow and cheek-bone fine. He judges that my maiden was A creature quite divine. *Ah, yes ! ' he added low, ' Virchow was right just there. For all the maidens of old Troy Were beautiful and rare.' POEM AND DOGMA 111 By summer chance we met, And sat in chatting mood : Said one, ' How noble Jesus' word In that Beatitude!' * Ah, yes ! ' chimed in a friend, ' You speak it truly there, For all that Jesus said or was, Was right beyond compare.' 'And Paul,' one said, * was wrong; How far from light he trod ! ' — ' But then, you know,' my lady chirped, "T is a« the Word of God.' ' The artlessness the same ! And why should tears half-start Over the fabled beauty gone, — Poem of German heart ; While, with half-angry thought, I smile away the creed Of fabled beauty they would fain Persuade me that I need ? 112 POEM AND DOGMA Angry ! who know their creeds Were poems, too, — that died ; That all the world's old dogmas are Its poems petrified. 1881 THE HALO ' One London dealer in birds received, when the fashion was at its height, a single consignment of thirty-two thou- sand dead humming-birds ; and another received at on* time thirty thousand aquatic birds, and three hundred thou- sand pairs of wings.' Think what a price to pay, Faces so bright and gay, Just for a hat ! Flowers unvisited, mornings unsung, Sea-ranges bare of the wings that o'er- swung, — Bared just for that! Think of the others, too, Others and mothers, too, Bright-Eyes in hat ! Hear you no mother-groan floating in air, Hear you no little moan, — birdlings' de- spair, — Somewhere, for that '? 8 114 THE HALO Caught 'mid some mother- work. Torn by a huuter Turk, Just for your hat ! Plenty of mother-heart yet in the world: All the more wings to tear, carefully twii'led ! Women want that ? Oh, but the shame of it, Oh, but the blame of it, — Price of a hat ! Just for a jauntiness brightening the street ! This is your halo, faces so sweet, — Death : and for that ! 1S85 NOT ALL THERE • The innocents, of whom the Scotch say, " They are not all there."' Something short in the making, — Something lost on the way, As the little Soul was taking Its path to the break of Day ! Only his mood or passion, But it twitched an atom back ; And she, for her gods of fashion, Filched from the pilgrim's pack. The Father did not mean it, The Mother did not know, No human eye had seen it, — But the little Soul needed it so ! Through the street there passed a cripple, Maimed from before its birth ; On the strange face gleamed a ripple, Like a half-dawn on the earth. 116 NOT ALL THERE It passed, — and it awed the city, As one not alive nor dead : Eyes looked and brimmed with pity, * He is not all there/ they said. Not all ! for part is behind it, Lying dropt on the way : That part — could two but find it, How welcome the end of Day ! 1883 LET IT BEGIN HERE Captain Parker's words on Lexington Green : ' Don't fire, unless you are fired on; but if they ivant a war, let it begin here ! ' The April thrills along the hills, The violets wake below, But never to the thrill they knew A hundred years ago, What day the calls from pasture-walls In echoing signals ran, And swift replied the country-side To what they here began. * Let it begin ! ' a Voice within The waiting farmers spake, — His voice in whom the Aprils bloom, In whom the Nations wake ! Old lands had yearned, old dreamers burned Fair Freedom's day to win, And still it fled, — the farmers said, * Now let it here begin ! ' 118 LET IT BEGIN HERE And at the word a Nation stirred ! Without or king or caste, Serene and strong to right their wrong, The People rose at last ! All quick to feel the common weal, The many in the one, Heart pledged to heart no more to part : And this was here begun ! For the Lexington Centennial, April 19, 1875 AUNT PHILLIS'S GUEST Si. Helena Island in 1863 I WAS young and ' Harry ' was strong, The summer was bursting from sky and plain, Thrilling our blood as we bounded along, — When a picture flashed, and I dropped the rein. A black sea-creek, with snaky run Slipping through low green leagues of sedge ; An ebbing tide, and a setting sun ; A hut and a woman by the edge. Her back was bent and her wool was gray; The wrinkles lay close on the withered face; Children were buried and sold away, — The Freedom had come to the last of a race ' 120 AUNT PHILLIS'S GUEST She lived from a neighbor's hominy-pot ; And praised the Lord, if 'the pain ' passed by; From the earthen floor the smoke curled out Through shingles patched with the bright blue sky. < Aunt Phillis, you live here all alone 1 ' I asked, and pitied the gray old head ; Sure as a child, in quiet tone, * Me and Jesus, Massa,' she said. I started, for all the place was aglow With a presence I had not seen before ; The air was full of a music low, And the Guest Divine stood at the door ! Ay, it was true that the Lord of Life, Who seeth the widow give her mite, Had watched this slave in her weary strife. And shown himself to her longing sight. The hut and the dirt, the rags and the skin, The grovelling want and the darkened mind, — AUNT PHILLIS'S GUEST 121 I looked on this ; but the Lord, within : I would what he saw was in me to find ! A childlike soul, whose faith had force To see what the angels see in bliss : She lived, and the Lord lived ; so, of course, They lived together, — she knew but this. And the life that I had almost despised As something to pity, so poor and low, Had already borne fruit that the Lord so prized He loved to come near and see it grow. No sorrow for her that the life was done : A few days more of the hut's unrest, A little while longer to sit in the sun, — Then — He would be host, and she would be guest ! And up above, if an angel of light Should stop on his errand of love some day To ask, ' Who lives in the mansion bright ? ' ' Me and Jesus,' Aunt Phillis will say. 122 AUNT PHILLIS'S GUEST A fancy, foolish and fond, does it seem 1 And things are not as Aunt Phillises dream ? Friend, surely so ! For this I know, — That our faiths are foolish by falling below, Not coming above, what God will shov/ ; That his commonest thing hides a wonder vast, To whose beauty our eyes have never passed ; That his fact in the present, or in the to-be. Outshines the best that we think we see. THE NEGEO BURYING-GROUND St. Helena Island in 1863 'Mid the sunny flat of the cotton-field Lies an acre of forest-tangle still ; A cloister dim, where the gray moss waves And the live-oaks lock their arms at will. Here in the shadows the slaves would hide As they dropped the hoe at death's release, And leave no sign but a sinking mound To show where they passed on their way to peace. This was the Gate — there was none but this — To a Happy Land where men were men ; And the dusky fugitives, one by one, Stole in from the bruise of the prison -pen. When, lo ! in the distance boomed the guns. The bruise was over, and 'Massa' had fled ! But Death is the ' Massa ' that never flees. So still to the oaks they bore the dead. 124 THE NEGRO BURYING-GROUND 'T was at set of sun ; a tattered troop Of children circled a little grave, Chanting an anthem rich in its peace As ever pealed in cathedral-nave, — The A, B, C, that the lips below Had learnt with them in the school to shout. Over and over they sung it slow, Crooning a mystic meaning out. A, B, C, D, E, F, G, — Down solemn alphabets they swept : The oaks leaned close, the moss swung low, — What strange new sound among them crept ? The holiest hymn that the children knew ! 'T was dreams come real, and heaven come near ; 'T was light, and liberty, and joy, And ' white-folks'-sense,' — and God right here ! THE NEGRO BURYING-GROUND 125 Over and over ; they dimly felt This was the charm .could make black white, This was the secret of ' Massa's ' pride, And this, unknown, made the negro's night. What could they sing of braver cheer To speed on her unseen way the friend ? The children were facing the mystery Death With the deepest prayer that their hearts could send. Children, too, and the mysteries last ! We are but comrades with them there^ — Stammering over a meaning vast, Crooning our guesses of how and where. But the children were right with their A, B, C ; In our stammering guess so much we say ! The singers were happy, and so are we : Deep as our wants are the prayers we pray. GETTYSBURG IN 1885 After a visit to the Panorama One step from the busy street, and there, With the summer hills around, In the heart of a summer day it lies, — A Battle without a sound. Whatever of battle the eyes may see — The sweep of men to death. The dash of horse, and the rush of gun. The musket's fiery breath ; The massing clouds of the cannon-smoke, The horror of bursting shell, The wreck of wheel and caisson, The surgeon's mimic hell ; The uptossed arms and the ashen cheek, The droop of the shattered limb. The men by the blood-pools in the grass, The bodies stiff and grim. GETTYSBURG IN 1883 127 We see it all, and we hear no sound ! We listen for roar and boom, For the crack and the ping and the bullet's thud : — A stillness like the tomb ! No rattle to wheel, no clatter to hoof, No bugle-call or cry, No fierce hurrah along that line Where the columns press to die ; Those sullen prisoners give no oath ; The face in the grass no groan ; Its ' Good-b^^e ! ' reached a thousand mileS/ But we catch never a tone. Ah, if we could add sound to sight, And then could paint the strain And the splendor in the soldier's heart. Breasting death's hurricane, And the flashing signals of his thought To homes that signal back. And the woman's face and the climbing child That lie in the bullet's track ; 128 GETTYSBURG IN 1883 And the breathless pause, each pulse-beat hushed, Of a watching continent ; And the sense of a nation's fate at stake In the awful tournament ; And the upturned brows of a million slaves Reading the face of God For the word that would lift them into Men, Or doom them back to the Clod, — Could we rim all this in those summer hills And add to what eyes see, In the cloister quaint by the city street Then ' Gettysburg ' would be ! And yet, as I hark, the Boundlessness Seems song of the war's release, And the beauty to hint, 'mid Battle's woe, The Battle's after-peace. THE RIGHT GOES MARCHING ON For Decoration Day One moment on the scaffold, and he left it Holy Ground ! Three hundred thousand heroes now lie guarding it around, And reverent hearts are pilgrim still to many a sacred mound, — And the Right goes marching on ! God had counted up the slave-graves, and heard the black man's moan. Till at last his leaping thunder shook the awful Judgment-Throne, — * For each lash a cannon-crash ! For each cry a battle-groan ! ' — And the Right goes marching on. The Hands wherein the sparrow falls, that beckon to the star. Are Hands that harness unseen dooms to Wrong's triumphal car, 9 130 THE RIGHT GOES MARCHING ON And tlie steeds untiring draw the nations trembling to the Bar, — And the Right goes marching on ! Then, if perchance a nation's Soul from out her shame shall rise, And light of Justice kindle fresh within her chastened eyes, The God who dooms shall save her by the pain that purifies, — And the Right goes marching on ! Lo, the flowers are all a-blossom, and the grasses are a-wave Where the bodies of our hero dead are sleep- ing in the grave : So shall beauty crown salvation through the Hands so strong to save, — And the Right goes marching on ! 1884 OUR COUNTRY * Beautiful, my Country !' Be thine a nobler care Than all thy wealth of commerce, Thy harvests waving fair : Be it thy pride to lift up The manhood of the poor ; Be thou to the oppressed Fair Freedom's open door ! For thee our fathers suffered, For thee they toiled and prayed ; Upon thy holy altar Their willing lives they laid. Thou hast no common birthright. Grand memories on thee shine ; The blood of pilgrim nations Commingled flows in thine. 132 OUR COUNTRY O Beautiful, our Country ! Round thee in love we draw ; Thine is the grace of Freedom, The majesty of Law. Be Righteousness thy sceptre, Justice thy diadem ; And on thy shining forehead Be Peace the crowning gem ! INDEX OF FIEST LINES Paqx A light upon the harvest-field 99 All hidden lie the future ways 54 All the Morning in a face 95 And are the children prophets, then .... 60 A silvery tide, called ' Sunny Side ' .... 51 'Behold/ — in vision said 69 Clear in memory's silent reaches 37 Fairer grows the earth each morning .... 25 Father, to thee we look in all our sorrow . . 39 Fifty times the years have turned 97 For us no Past ? Nay, what is present sweetness 84 From heart to heart, from creed to creed . . 29 God ploughed one day with an earthquake . . 74 Go not, my soul, in search of him 19 He hides within the lily 15 134 INDEX OP FIRST LINES Page I cannot think of them as dead 35 I hear it often in the dark 11 I little see, I little know 23 Immortal by their deed and word .... 65 I walk the Cliff, in earlier days oft trod . .100 I was young and ' Harry ' was strong . . . 119 Just on the threshold of threescore-and-ten . 103 Many things in life there are 49 'Mid the sunny flat of the cotton-field . . . 123 Not always on the mount may we ... . 45 Not in our waking hours alone 101 Not to the lanes of England 104 * Beautiful, my Country ! ' 131 Heart of all the shining day 33 Name, all other names above 31 One moment on the scaffold, and he left it Holy Ground 129 One step from the busy street, and there . . 126 One thought I have, my ample creed ... 9 Only ten miles from the city 77 thou, in all thy might so far 13 thou who art of all that is 41 Praise to God and thanksgiving 67 Routine of duties . 72 INDEX OF FIRST LINES 135 Shelf over shelf the mountain rose Something short in the making . Somewhere in the world there hif ^ hear the ' bronze throat ' hail him, ' Browning 's come among us, — give him place 1 ' 'NOTHING BUT A POET' 69 'Nothing but a poet,' singing songs of soul- growth, Splendor in the pain-throb, rise in fall, ' Saul the failure ' in us re-creating kingly, Songs one surge of morning ! That was all ! Browning Commemoration, 1890 REMBRANDT Suggested by the portrait of his mother in the Hermitage, St. Petersburg. Gazing upon that face where years have wrought The record of their mingled loss and gain, Where Love and Death, alternate joy and pain. Have the hid soul to such expression brought, — Life fills with vaster meaning to my thought. *Neath change and loss I read what things remain To crown at last the struggle and the strain Of all our days, remembered or forgot. O mighty Master ! Shakespeare of the brush ! Interpreting to eye, as he to ear, REMBRANDT 71 The story of earth's passion and its strife, — Thy genius caught the new day's morning flush, Saw glory in the common and the near, And on immortal canvas gave us life 1 1892 THE SOAVER ^A sower went forth to sow.* Along the pathless prairie The tread of human feet, — Up rise the smoke-plumed cabins 'Mid springing corn and wheat. Where, like a lonely ocean, The wind-swept grasses swung, The golden sheaves are gathered, The harvest song is sung. In vigil of the spirit A young-eyed listener heard, — * Go forth among thy fellows, Thy seed the living Word ! By springs of joy and sorrow, In fields of toil and care. Through deserts of temptation. Broadcast thy faith and prayer.' THE SOWER 73 From year to year the prairie Has waved with ripened grain, Borne on the tides of traffic Wide over land and main. But who shall mart the harvest Of nobler thought and deed, Of holier faith and purpose, Sprung from the sower's seed ? O brave and faithful sower, N'ot thine on earth to bind The full sheaves of thy harvest, The growths of heart and mind Outspreads in widening circles The life-embodied Word, And they shall bear thee witness Thy voice who never heard. The people cease from labor. The children leave their play ; All bring thee love and honor To crown thy festal day. 74 THE SOWER The heavens glow in beauty Lit by the westering sun, And God's far stars shall guide thee When the long day is done. Chester Covel, Seventieth birthday, 1887 JOHN C. LEARNED Thy work abides, though thou hast passed from sight : Unconsciously hast thou thy monument From year to year built fair and permanent In lives to which thine own was cheer and light. Wisdom and meekness clothed thee with their might ; In thee the sage and saint were equal blent; Strength, courage, tenderness dwelt in thy tent, Thou soldier of the everlasting Right ! By so much as we mourn thee, we rejoice That we have known thee in these earthly ways. And with thee striven for the things unseen : Still in our silences will speak thy voice And thy dear memory inspire our days. Till we too pass the veil that hangs between. December, 1893 * INCARNATE CHEER' ^Haven't I a right to be grave, too, sometimes?' J. LI. J. No rights of gravity to thee, dear friend ! We need one face about our world to mend Heart's hurt and set jarred minds in tune, And sure to do this as the blessed June ; One voice whose bell shall ring away all fear ; One hand in which we grasp ' incarnate cheer ; ' One steadfast smile rayed out from eyes alight, To make men say, ' He 's come ! now all is right I * To J. LI. J. on his birthday, 1887 THIRTY THOUSAND ' Thirty thousand ! * said the Fate, Mixer of the days to be, As she passed the mystic gate, — Little Quaker baby, she ! Thirty thousand days and nights — This the dower with which she came All their sounds and all their sights Vested in the tiny dame. ' Thirty thousand,' said the Fate ; But who draw the royal breath Into deeds the days translate. Dainty Queen Elizabeth ! Price is high for royal dowers ; Thee must earn thy golden state I Spendthrift gods fling out the hours, Miser gods keep count and weight. 78 THIRTY THOUSAND Day and night and night and day, One by one the thousands flee : Lady of the Yea and Nay, Thou lia&t earned thy queenerie ! Earned it as a noble should. Dauntless, tireless, gentle-strong ; Giving Yea to every good, Daring Nay to every wrong. Not in calendars thy fame, But secrete in happy prayer ; Lips have blessed thee — not by name Thanking God for ' daily care.' Thou dost leave a sweeter earth, Less of poison, less of fen, By thy precedent of worth Stablished in the world's Amen. Thou art part of all uplift ! One tint brighter rises morn Henceforth ever, — this thy gift Wheresoe'er a child is born. To E. B. C, on her eightieth birthday, 1886 GOLDEN WEDDING What do you see, dear hill-top pair, Side by side in the quiet there, Looking down through the golden air On the days of long ago ? 'o' Sounds of the valley's push and thron<^ Din of its labor and cries of its wrong, Do they rise and blend to an evening song, As you stand and hsten so ? Is the valley filling with shadows dim? Do the hills grow bright on the eastern rim, The hills where you played so free of limb, In the days of long ago ? Tell us your secrets, our two-in-one 1 Do fifty years of the rising sun Draw love the closer for each year run, — Will you whisper, yon who know ? 80 GOLDEN WEDDING Beautiful secrets that none can tell Till sunsets chant and the roses spell, — As they do for twos ! as two knew well In the days of long ago. But say, O lover by love long taught, Why, under the gray the years have brought, She stands as a maiden to our thought, And a rose that waits to blow. Tell us the secret of home-spun ways. Of spinning-wheel hours in city days, Clean and calm as a Quaker j)hrase Of the simple long ago. Tell what you see on the farther side. Where the new horizons open wide. And you hear the step of a coming Guide The way of the hills to show. Out of the quiet that holds you there There seems to float through the golden air, Like the brooding music after prayer Or a song of long ago : — GOLDEN WEDDING 81 * Little we see ; but hand in hand Fearless we turn to the still, new land, Fearless to go as here to stand ; For this in our hearts we know, — ' Wherever we go, Love goeth too ; Whatever may pass, Love lasteth through; And Love shall be sweet and dear and true As in days of long ago.' For J. D. and M. D. : 1836-1886 TWILIGHT The sunset glow is ebbing ; Within the rose-rimnied sky The stars wait wide and lonely The slow day's passing by. The evening dusks the valleys ; The hill-tops yet are lit ; The shadow broadens upward, And the quiet climbs with it. All that the day dissevers Now, in the twilight dun, Nestles again together, — The far and the near are one. Within her cloistered chamber Brooded the evening peace, As the dear life faded slowly, Too happy to wish release. TWILIGHT 83 In the widening hush she waited, In the beautiful after-glow, The hills of her memory gleaming. The shadows climbing below. The holy twilight falling Was not of the star and sun ; The earth and the heaven lights mingled, — And the far and near were one. 0. M. N., 1894 < DEATH AS FRIEND' After a picture by Alfred Bethel So still ! The little bird sits on the window-sill ; The sun behind him is sinking slow ; Down below in the city streets The people are going to and fro, — Going home, for their work is done. ' Tong ! Tong ! ' It is vesper-hour, And soft strong booms Steal out from the great cathedral tower Over the house-tops, over the plain, Out towards the sun : ' Tong ! Tong ! Go home, for work is done ! ' The old bell-ringer. He, too, is so still I Fifty years, at the vesper hour, He has rung the bell in his eyrie tower ; ♦ DEA TH AS FRIEND ' 85 A dweller there with the birds in the sky, In the fields of quiet that overlie The toil of cities, — ringing ' Peace ! Go home, for work is done ! ' There, alone, AVhere the undertone Of the city toil moans up to him, He has done his part in the busy day, Ringing the pauses for men to pray, — Simply, faithfully, fifty years ; Ever, in heart, at his oaken board Breaking his bread with the crucified Lord, In whose great name The bells proclaim * Peace ! go home, for work is done ! ' One by one The strokes sound on. He sits in the chair by the window-sill : The little bird wonders at him so still. So still in the fingers, so still in the face ! ' What ails the ringer?' the people say, ' The vesper-bell rings long to-day : We have all gone home, And work is done.' 86 'DEATH AS FRIEND' Low, low, In the evening glow, It tolls and tolls. In the belfry stands a hooded shape, With a palmer's shell on his shoulder-cape. As one who goeth from place to place : He grasps the rope with a bony hand. Bending with a tender grace To each rhythm of sweeping sound. With a noiseless foot he has climbed the stair, And touched the old man sitting there, Waiting for the vesper-hour, and said, * To-night I ring for you, old friend : Go home, for work is done ! ' So still ! The little bird flies from the window-sill. The sun has set, and down below The people are saying, ' It never rang so, Never before, so sweet and low ! ' ' R. LI. J., 1885 A. L. G. 1846 So early lost, I cannot tell the lift Of mother-arms ! A toy or two, her gift ; A small white gown, her needle in its seam; And, dim as is a dream within a dream, A little figure at a shadow's feet, Or walking hand in hand upon the street, — A gentle shadow with an unseen face, — No smile, no tone, no foot-fall mine for trace ; That is my unknown Mother I Yet I know The inmost currents of my beino- flow From her high springs ; the faiths that in me rise Have once made happy lights within her eyes; 88 A. L. G. The gardens of my heart are seeded thick With border-blooms that first in hers were quick ; My very thought of God is her bequest, Sealed mine before I lay upon her breast ! O Mother, could an earthly smile suffice, And these not serve me well to recognize ? Inwrought and deathless tokens pledge us joy What day my Mother meets her grateful boy! 1894 ALMA MATER From many ways and wide apart, Obedient to thy call, Hither we turn with loyal heart. Dear Mother of us all ! We walk the well-known paths once more Amid the summer's bloom ; We pass familiar thresholds o'er, And breathe the air of home. Nor we alone ; they come unseen. Unheard their footsteps fall ; Voices long hushed to earth within The cloistered silence call. O, more than gold has been the lore We learned beside thy knee, — The faith that grows from more to more, The truth that maketh free ; 90 ALMA MATER The strength to do and to endure Through good report and ill, The heart of love, the conscience pure, And the undaunted will. Be proud, O Mother, of thy past ! It lives in thee to-day ; And still its high traditions cast Their Hght upon thy way. Our love and hope ring out their chime Above thy festival ; Blessings upon thee through all time, Thou who hast blessed us all 1 1890 THE VILLAGE MEETING-HOUSE Still stands the ancient meeting-house Upon the village-green, And white above the circling trees The belfry tower is seen. Uncolored through the simple panes The common sunlight pours ; No Gothic arches spring above The latched and painted doors. Their thresholds witness to the tread Of feet long since at rest In yonder field of moss-grown slates With Bible-text impressed. No more at rise and set of sun Is heard the numbered toll That spoke to all the country round The passing of a soul : 92 VILLAGE MEETING-HOUSE Yet still with every new-born week, Across the meadows fair And over all the upland farms, Sounds the old call to prayer. I walked again the village street By absence made more dear ; That summer Sunday held the bloom And fragrance of the year. I followed with the worshippers The ancient house within ; For me with all I saw and heard Was mingled what had been. For memory had new-kindled love, And love had quickened faith ; I lived ihat hour within a world That knew not change and death. I minded not the preacher's theme, Nor caught the words of prayer ; My thought had passed within the veil And walked with spirits there. VILLAGE MEETING-HOUSE 93 The faithful shepherd of the flock, Whose years knew such increase, Who led in wisdom's simple ways And by the streams of peace ; The wise and upright citizen, To each good cause allied, Who brightened more an honored name Through all the country-side ; And souls that well had borne their part, And little children fair ; — Their unforgotten faces gleamed In the illumined air. I love the minster's vaulted roof, Its walls of old renown, Where sculptured marbles voice the past And windowed saints look down : Nor less I feel our Hebrew strain. Distrustful still of art, That lifts to the Invisible Immediate the heart. 94 VILLAGE MEETING-HOUSE For inward more than outward is, The soul than any shrine ; Alone our living love and trust The altar make divine. Long may the ancient meeting-house Rise from the village-green, And over all the country round Its belf ried tower be seen : Still may the call to praise and prayer Be heard each Sunday morn, And bind in growing faith the past With ages yet unborn ! NORTHBOROUGH, MaSS. THE DAYS In Father Time's old nursery The little Morrows wait, Each one impatient to be out, Impatient to be great ; On bravely through the sun to go, On bravely through the showers, A world to see, a Day to be ! The happy-hearted Hours 1 So one by one he lets them out, His Days so young and strong. The morning shining in their face, And on their lips a song. When home they come, their work all done. There 's quiet in their ways, And shadows rise and haunt their eyes, — They 're dear old Yesterdays I 96 THE DAYS And now we love them for the half Of all that we hold dear, — The echo- side of every word, The far to every near ; The sunset touch to every hope That fades along our skies, The after-dream, the vanished gleam, The love in long-shut eyes. Rochester : 'Fiftieth Anniversary,' 1892 THE OLD LOVE-SONG Play it slowly, sing it lowly, Old, familiar tune ! Once it ran in dance and dimple, Like a brook in June; Now it sobs along the measures With a sound of tears ; Dear old voices echo through it, Vanished with the years. Ripple, ripple, goes the love-song, Till in slowing time Early sweetness grows completeness, Floods its every rhyme. Who together learn the music Life and death unfold, Know that love is but beginning Until love is old. 7 98 THE OLD LOVE-SONG Play it slowly, — it is holy As an evening hymn ; Morning gladness hushed to sadness Fills it to the brim. Memories home within the music, Stealing through the bars ; Thoughts within its quiet spaces Rise and set like stars. For J. W. C. and A. H. C. : 1865-1890 THE DEAR TOGETHERNESS I DREAMED of Paradise, — and still, Though sun lay soft on vale and hill And trees were green and rivers bright, The one dear thing that made delio-ht By sun or stars or Eden weather, Was just that we two were together. I dreamed of Heaven, — with God so near ! Tlie angels trod the shining sphere, And each was beautiful ; the days Were choral work, were choral praise : And yet in Heaven's far-shining weather The best was still, — we were together ! I woke, — and lo, my dream was true. That happy dream of me and you ! For Eden, Heaven, no need to roam, The foretaste of it all is Home, Where you and I through this world's weather Still work and praise and thank together. 100 THE DEAR TOGETHERNESS Together weave from love a nest For all that 's good and sweet and blest To brood in, till it come a face, A voice, a soul, a child's embrace, — And then what peace of Bethlehem wea- ther, What songs as we go on together ! Together greet life's solemn real, Together own one glad ideal, Together laugh, together ache. And think one thought, ' each other's sake,' And hope one hope, — in new-world wea- ther To still go on, and go together ! Home Dedication, 1891 HERO BY BREVET I SAW a veteran to-day, With hobbling foot and staff to stay, In slow march by the window stray. ' What rank ? ' There was no epaulet, — Some humble rank that privates get: The face said, Hero by brevet, * What regiment ? ' I only know They take the front where'er they go, As that were badge enough to show. * No colors ? ' None that I could see, — A few gray locks were waving free. Like shot-torn banners greeting me. ' In service where ? ' How could I guess ? No boast of battles marred the dress. But eyes were full of field-success. 102 HERO BY BREVET * No scars or maim, no empty sleeve ? ' Only the smile that sufferings leave And weary days and nights achieve. * And all alone, — no comrade-brother ? ' Alone, yet loved beyond all other. ' By whom ? ' By men who call her Mother 1 1886 NURSERY LOGIC There in tl\e nursery stood the case, Old and battered and brown with age, — Dear Aunt Ann's with the saintly face, — Till one of our toddlers, in cherubic racre, Chanced on a spring and a drawer flew wide. And lo, a plain gold ring inside ! Wee Aunt Ann with the mystic smile. That was the secret thy eyes held fast ! Did they learn their smile in the long-ago while When the wooers came and the wooers And not one dreamed that a drawer flew wide, A drawer with a plain gold ring inside ? 104 NURSERY LOGIC Nobody guessed from then till now, Little maid-aunt, thy secret sweet ! Then nobody shall, but he and thou. Long in the heaven where old loves meet. But — knows he yet that a drawer flew wide To show his plain gold ring inside ? So we all agreed, the children and I, Dropping again the ring in its place, Never to spy what lives so shy There in the heart of the old brown case. But the children say, * If a drawer flew wide, — There 's a dear little uncle and aunt inside ! ' Who ? is his name. O, they know well, — Have christened him, wedded him now for true! But that is her secret, and they won't tell ; So it 's just ' Aunt Ann and Uncle Who ? ' And (bless their logic !) they hear, inside, Three little dream-cousins who laugh and hide. NURSERY LOGIC 105 Cousins real to the poets small, Brooding the dream, as they themselves; Christened and charactered, each and all, Discrete, insular, untwinned elves ! Poets — or prophets ? Should heaven ope wide. Whose are the children at Aunt Ann's side ? HOW LITTLE JO NAMED THE BABY He stood beside the cradle, A tender-brooding care. Watching with love-illumined eyes The baby brother there. He stood beside the cradle, While busily without The mother ])lied her morning work The happy home about. Three moons had bloomed and faded Since ' Baby ' earthward came. Nor yet with seeking far or near Was found a fittins: name. NOH^ LITTLE JO, ETC. 107 Anon the door was opened, — The mother paused and smiled, As, face all tremulous with joy, Up spake the little child : ' Mamma, I 've named the baby ! ' ' You have ? What is it, Jo ? ' ' I 'm going to call him God, Mamma, That 's the best name I know.' O depth of heavenly wisdom Alone to love unsealed, — Hid from the wise and prudent ones And unto babes revealed 1 Wee prophet of the Highest, Who touched thy little tongue To speak so clear the holiest thought That e'er was said or sung? The preaching of the pulpit Seems vague and far away, Beside thy bolder faith that sees ' Immanuel ' to-day. 108 HOW LITTLE JO, ETC. Ah, well if in each other, As through the world we go, We saw what in that babe was seen And named by little Jo 1 Cleveland, 1886 IN THE ALBULA PASS. To right, to left, the mountain wall — Above, the narrow strip of sky ; And at my feet the Albiila stream With youth's impatience rushes by. The air comes cool from snowy heights And tonic with the breath of pine ; Around me like a glory spread The flowers in rainbow beauty shine. I leave the cares that weighed me down. The heat and burden of the plain ; I feel the strengthening of the hills And drink the wine of youth again. Why thus in haste, bright mountain stream. To leave these haunts, so fair to me, Full soon to find the dusty plain, Too soon the all-engulfing sea? 110 IN THE ALBULA PASS There comes a voice, — the streams can speak ! — ' Fair is my home and youth is free, And glad my days, yet will I go On to the plain, the unknown sea I ' For life is motion and not rest, Nor fear I what at last shall be ; The Hand that raised these mountain heights Has scooped the hollows of the sea 1 ' I turn me from the happy stream, All bright the years before me lie ; The mountains sink as up I climb. And nearer grows the widening sky. Canton Grisons, July, 1888 CORONADO BEACH The air is tonic with the salty breath Of coursing billows that at last are free ; Sounds low and sweet old Ocean's symphony, Whose thought the varying heart inter- preteth. With upturned face and folded palms in death Lies Corpus Christi in mute effigy ; Point Loma, sphinx-like, gazes o'er the sea Nor heeds the questioning wave that breaks beneath. Along the shore the solemn mountains keep Their immemorial watch ; in yonder town, Sheltered between them and the curving deep, Unheard the tides of Hfe move up and down. peace of Nature ! here my burdens fall, 1 rest upon the mighty Heart of all ! San Diego, February, 1894 DOVER Mouse-hole in December, Quiet little Dover ! What shall I remeiuLer, Now the days are over? Snow in hushes falling ; Blue days creeping by ; Trees in still processions Etched upon the sky ; And a silent village Where the gray stones lean, Whispering of a Dover They alone have seen. All I shall remember, Now the days are over, — Mouse-hole in December, Quiet little Dover 1 DOVER 113 When I shall be lying With a gray stone over, Will this great World dim to Just a little Dover? Dover, Mass., 1886 WE SEE AS WE ARE The poem hangs on the berry-bush, When comes the poet's eye ; The street begins to masquerade, When Shakespeare passes by. The Christ sees white in Judas' heart. He loves his traitor well; And God, to angel his new Heaven, Explores his lowest Hell. 1885 TREE-SURPRISE There 's a rapture in the air, Thrilling all the branches bare With the musical vibrations of an unheard tune; Silent trees in winter trance Feel a something in them dance, — Then a leaf and bud commotion, and a world one June ! There 's a trouble in the air. And a fog of white despair ; Stiff and black the trees are standing, — - are they dead, all dead ? In an hour I lift my eyes. And, behold ! a tree-surprise, — Every twig is flashing crystal from the white gloom bred 1 116 TREE-SURPRISE Unheard music in the air, Is it rapture or despair In my tree of life the Hands will play for this day's tune ? But why ask it or why care, With that gloom-born beauty there, And the Hands to play December that shall yet play June ? 1885 A DAY IN OCTOBER I LEAVE behind the crowded street, The city's noise and stir, And face to face with Nature meet, - Her happy worshipper. I walk the unfrequented road With open eye and ear ; I watch afield the farmer load The bounty of the year. I filch the fruit of no man's toil, No trespasser am I, And yet I reap from every soil And the unmeasured sky. I gather where I did not sow, And bind in mystic sheaf The amber air, the river's flow. The rustle of the leaf, — 118 A DAY IN OCTOBER The squirrels' chatter in the trees, The sunlight sifted down, The wholesome odors on the breeze O'er ripened harvests blown, — The hills in distance purple-hued, The tinkling waterfall, The ' deep contentment of the wood,' The peace o'erbrooding all. The maples glow beside the streams And fleck the pastures sear, Like smiles that break from happy dreams, ■ So smiles the waning year ! A beauty springtime never knew Haunts all the quiet ways. And sweeter shines the landscape through Its veil of autumn haze. The blessing of the early rain And all the summer's shine Are garnered in the golden grain And purple of the vine. A DAY IN OCTOBER 119 What though the groves are silent all, No bird within them sinsfs, Nor on the quiet meadows fall Shadows from sunlit wings : Yet is their summer music part Of the still atmosphere, — So Nature keeps by subtle art To sight what pleased the ear. And all my separate senses seem To be but passive keys, Whereon she plays her world-old theme To wondrous harmonies. I face the hills, the streams, the wood. And feel with all akin ; I ope my heart, — their fortitude And peace and joy flow in. Like him of old on Horeb's mount I take again my way. New-strengthened from the healing fount Of this October day. Michigan, 1892 INDEX OF FIRST LINES Page * A cloud received hiin out of sight' ... 62 A little House of Life 31 Along the pathless prairie 72 A rugged rock is the mountain 67 As silent as the sun-gleam in the forest . . 29 Bring, Morn, thy music! Bring, Night, thy hushes 11 From age to age they gather 40 From many ways and wide apart .... 89 Gazing upon that face where years have wrought 70 He laid his rocks in courses 46 He stood beside the cradle 106 I dreamed of Paradise, —and still .... 99 I leave behind the crowded street .... 117 In Father Time's old nursery 95 I saw a veteran to-day 101 It sounds along the ages 48 Lo, the Day of days is here 57 122 INDEX OP FIRST LINES Page 'Mid my life's vicissitude 30 Mouse-hole in December 112 No rights of gravity to thee, dear friend . . 76 'Notliing but a poet! ' So he said, and won- dered 68 No thrush at eve had ever sweeter song . . 66 Not when, with self dissatisfied 33 Fount of Being's sea 22 O Light, from age to age the same .... 42 Lord of Life, where'er they be 50 One thing I do ; the things behind forgetting 35 On e3-es that watch through sorrow's night . 51 On the Judaean hills 59 On the rock and girt with ice 14 Prophet souls of all the years 9 Thou in lonely vigil led 13 Thou whose Spirit witness bears .... 20 Over hills and valleys 26 Over the land in glory 55 Play it slowly, sing it lowly 97 Sleep, my little Jesus 64 So early lost, I cannot tell the lift .... 87 So still ! The little bird sits on the window-sill 84 Still stands the ancient meeting-house ... 91 The air is tonic with the salty breath . . . Ill The morning hangs its signal 16 INDEX OP FIRST LINES 123 Page The poem hangs on the berry-bush .... 114 There in the nursery stood the case .... 103 There 's a rapture in the air 115 They came, bringuig spices, at break of the day 52 The sunset glow is ebbing 82 * Thirty thousand ! ' said the Fate .... 77 This edelweiss I wear was not first mine . . 15 Thy kingdom come, — on bended knee . . 18 Thy work abides, though thou hast passed from sight 75 To right, to left, the mountain wall .... 109 Unto thee, abiding ever 24 What do you see, dear hill-top pair .... 79 Whatsoever is just and pure 38 What will the violets be 54 Where men on mounts of vision 44 THE THOUGHT OF GOD IN HYMNS AND POEMS Cferee SStim in (Bnz FREDERICK L. HOSMER AND WILLIAM C. GANNETT Wijixti S>zxizi, BOSTON THE BEACON PRESS 1918 Copyright, igi8 BY FREDERICK L. HOSMER AND WILLIAM C. GANNETT Stanbope S>rcs0 H. GILSON COMPANY BOSTON, U. S. A. CONTENTS Page The Uncreated Law . . The Prophecy Sublime . Hear, O ye Nations . . . A People Blest of God . The Undertone .... •The Goodly Fellowship Prophets' Our Hidden Peace . . . Thrice Fifty Years . . . Dedication of Parish House The New-built Shrine A Fourfold Jubilee . A Century of Peace The New-World's Prophecy The Miracle Unbroken . Daily Bread Easter Gladness .... The Star of Bethlehem . Mother and Child . . . A Woodland Christening The City of God .... Harvard Divinity School Emerson Abraham Lincoln . . . Forward through the Ages of the F. L. H. (3) CONTENTS Page Cloisters of the Spirit W. C. G. . . 44 Ordination " . . 46 Motlier and Child " . . 48 Kindergartners " . . 49 Snow " . . 50 April " . . 53 A Summer in the Silence of the Hills " . . 54 * Bread— and Roses, too ' . . . " . . 58 The Heart of June " . . 60 And Still the Eyes that Lift . . " . . 61 Earth's Way and Heaven's Way " . . 62 On Love's Supreme " . . 63 In the Old Watertown Burying- Ground •• . . 64 • Grow Old Along with Me ' . . " . . 70 Sunset " . . 71 Abraham Lincoln, Forever ... " . . 72 O Mother Nigh-Forgotten ... " . . 74 The Christ of the Andes .... •' . . 77 Joy of Morning " . . 79 America at the Peace Confer- ence : 1899 " . . 81 America Redempta : 1917-18 . . " . . 85 Before the Exposition " . . 88 1918 " . . 90 (4) THE UNCREATED LAW Still loom the Sinais, rugged, grand, With lightning-flash and thunder, Awakening the slumberous land To mingled dread and wonder. The uncreated Law Men own, and stand in awe ; ' Thou shalt ' and ' thou shalt not ' Self-will can ne'er out- blot : That Law stands fast forever ! It flameth in the spirit's sky. To every soul appealeth ; It holds the keys of destiny. The nations' doom it sealeth. It casteth down the proud, Uplifts the poor and bowed ; O'erwhelms the wrong in night, With victory crowns the right : And it shall rule forever ! THE UNCREATED LAW Though clothed with terror to our sin, That Law is our salvation ; It hurts to heal, it warns to win, Each erring soul and nation. Behind it is a Face All tenderness and grace ; Let every soul obey, - Ye lands, prepare the way ; On earth God's kingdom cometh ! Music : Luther's ' Ein' feste Burg.' 1911 THE PROPHECY SUBLEME Thy kingdom come, O Lord, Wide-circling as the smi ; Fulfil of old thy word And make the nations one : One in the bond of peace, The service glad and free Of truth and righteousness, Of love and equity. Speed, speed the longed-for time Foretold by raptured seers, — The prophecy sublime, The hope of all the years : Till rise in ordered plan On firm foundations broad The commonwealth of man. The City of our God ! 1904 HEAR, O YE NATIONS Hear, hear, O ye Nations, and hearing obey The cry from the past and the call of to-day ! Earth wearies and wastes with her fresh life outpoured, The glut of the cannon, the spoil of the sword. Lo, dawns the new era, transcending the old, The poet's rapt vision, by prophet foretold ! From war's grim tradition- it maketh appeal To service of all in a world's commonweal. Home, altar and school, the mill and the mart. The workers afield, in science, in art, Peace-circled and sheltered, shall join to create The manifold life of the firm-builded State. HEAR, O YE NATIONS 9 Then, then shall the empire of right over wrong Be shield to the weak and a curb to the strong ; Then justice prevail and, the battle-flags furled, The High Court of Nations give law to the world. A.nd thou, O my Country, from many made one, Last-born of the nations, at morning thy sun, Arise to the place thou art given to fill. And lead the world-triumph of peace and good-will ! National Peace Congress : Chicago, May, 1909 A PEOPLE BLEST OF GOD Uplift the song of praise To him, our fathers^ God ! Who led them o'er the watery ways To lands mitrod : Seed of a race to be, Upon his New-World shore ; The home of Law and Lil^erty For evermore. Lift high the song of praise, O Nation grown in power ! Hold fast through good and evil days Thy glorious dower : The age-long hope fulfil, New-quickened at thy birth ; Thy strength thy God, whose righteous will Rules heaven and earth. A PEOPLE BLEST OP GOD 11 Uplift the song of praise ! His love and wisdom own, Who leadeth still in unseen way\ By paths unknown. His purposes of old And promises endure, And through the circling years imiold, Forever sure. Lift high the song of praise And bless his holy Name ! Whose care above the passing days Abides the same : Our fathers' confidence Through all their pilgrimage ; Our dwelling-place and our defence From age to age. Music : • Yigdal ' ( * Leoni ' ) 1911 THE UNDERTONE From old to new, with broadening sweep, The stream of life moves on ; And still its changing currents keep A changeless undertone. In prophet word and martyr faith, Vision of saint and seer, The poet's song, the hero's death, — That undertone we hear. A sense we have of things imseen Transcending things of time ; We catch, earth's broken chords between, The everlasting chime : And light breaks through the rifted haze In shining vistas broad ; We travel the eternal ways, Held by the hand of God. 1900 ♦THE GOODLY FELLOWSHIP OF THE PROPHETS' Fkom age to age how grandly rise The prophet souls in line ! Above the passing centuries Like beacon-lights they shine. Through differing accents of the lip One message they proclaim, One growing bond of fellowship, Above all names one Name. They witness to one heritage, One Spirit's quickening breath, One widening reign, from age to age. Of freedom and of faith. Their kindling power our souls confess ; Though dead, they speak to-day : How great the cloud of witnesses Encompassing our way ! 14 THE GOODLY FELLOWSHIP Through every race, in ever}- clime, One song shall yet be heard : Move onward in thy course sublime, O everlasting Word ! F. R. A. Festival, 1899 OUR HIDDEN PEACE When shadows gather on our way, Fast deepening as the night, Be thou, O God, the spirit's stay, Oui' inward Light ! Amid the outward toil and strife, The world's dull roar and din. Still speak thy word of higher life, Thou Voice within ! When burdens sore upon us press. And vexing cares increase. Spring thou, a fount of quietness, Our hidden Peace ! Though fond hopes fail, and joy depart. And friends should faithless prove, O save us from the bitter heart, Indwelling Love ! THRICE FIFTY YEARS Here where our fathers built of old, Rough-hewn, their simple house of prayer, We meet to-day, a grateful fold, Of these thrice fifty years the heir. Through time and change, through birth and death. The stream of being ceaseless runs ; One hidden life of love and faith Binds through all change the sires and sons. Their record lives in all around, Lives in our ampler thought and hope ; Through them the earth is fairer ground, And life for us hath larger scope. O Thou who workest all in all. We bless thee for our heritage: From out the past what voices call, What visions glad the coming age ! THRICE FIFTY YEARS 17 Still hold us faithful to their trust Who wrought for better things to be, And when our flesh with theirs is dust, Grant us with them to rest in thee. NORTHBOROUGH, MASS.: First Congregational Church ( Unitarian ), June 3, 1896 DEDICATION OF A PARISH-HOUSE Through willing heart and helping hand, Behold achieved our long desire ! And gathered here, a household band, We light to-night the household fire. Be welcomed here the old, the young, The rich, the poor, the prince and thrall : Be Jesus' motto high uphung, — Who serveth most is chief of all. Let mirth and pastime speed the hour, The lighter moods that ease our care : Here graver themes, through lips of power, Give guidance to the ways we fare ! May human fellowship here take A radiance from the altar's glow, And kindlier hearts, new-quickened, make From purer founts its worship flow I DEDICATION OP A PARISH-HOUSE 19 O Thou whose service, wide and free, Is inward strength and light and cheer, Be this our bond of unity And fire the souls that gather here ! Bbbkblby, Caik, Sept. 10, 1909 THE NEW-BUILT SHRIKE The outward temple stands complete, Fulfilment of our long desire ; And while our hearts responsive beat We light anew our altar fire. Yet neither wholly new nor strange Can seem this house to which we come ; So much we bring that knows not change To give these walls the touch of home : The inspirations of the past, The fellowships of kindred aim, The treasured memories that hold fast, The vanished whom we silent name. And now, with forward faith and cheer, To life made daily more divine, To all that brings the Vision near, We dedicate the new-built shrine. THE NEW-BUILT SHRINE 21 And Thou in whom we live and move, In whom our being rooted stands, Breathe in our hearts thy living love And crown the labor of our hands ! Church of the Unity : St. Louis, 1917 A FOURFOLD JUBILEE Uplifted be the voice of praise As far and near, beloved Town, Thy children throng from many ways Thy fourfold jubilee to crown ! Still echoed in thy history We catch the high heroic strain, The Pilgrim faith that crossed the sea For truth and right and freedom's gain. And worthy sons of noble sires Have passed the torch of knowledge on Through paths of peace and battle-fires Have to the old new triumphs won. We reap the fields the fathers cleared, The harvest of their toil and care ; The ampler life by them upreared. Fulfilment of their faith and prayer. A FOURFOLD JUBILEE 23 O Thou by whom our fathers wrought, Our strength through all the ages down, Whose Providence thus far hath brought, Still guard and bless our ancient Town ! Framingham, Mass. : Bicentennial, June 13, 1900 A CENTURY OF PEACE Across a century's border-line Unmarked by frowning fort or sign, To-day as one, with differing name, A kindred heritage we claim : The heritage of those born free To shape the onward destiny Of church and state to nobler plan. The crowning commonwealth of man. Blest be the Providence that bore Our fathers to this New-World shore, And trained a vigorous stock to be Upbuilders of democracy. Their task, committed to our trust. We steadfast hold and hold we must, Till all America shall own The harvest from their planting grown ; A CENTURY OF PEACE 25 Yea, till the ever narrowing tide No more the continents divide, And through all lands beneath the sun The severed nations meet as one ! General Unitarian Conference, Montreal, Sept., 1917; Unveiling of Commemorative Tablet in the church. THE NEW-WORLD'S PROPHECY O Blest the souls that see and hear The things of God to-day revealed, Of old to longing saint and seer Within the future closely sealed : The stir of nations near and far, The wakened hearts that beat as one, The flow of peace, the ebb of war, The passing night, the risen sun ! Be ours the vision, ours the will To follow, though the faithless ban; The love that triumphs over ill. The trust in God and hope for man. And thou whose tides of purpose bear These mortal lives that come and go, Give us to feel through toil and prayer Thy deep eternal underflow ! THE MIRACLE UNBROKEN Now while the day in trailing splendor Gives way to glories of the night, Thanksgiving to thy name we render, Lord of the darkness and the light ! Daily from thee we have our being, In all this wondrous order set ; Thine omnipresence blinds our seeing, And in thy gifts we thee forget. Touch thou our eyes, their blindness healing, Until the common earth and air To our illumined sight and feeling Thy glory and thyself declare : Till storied marvel, sign and token. All pale before the nearer thought Of the vast miracle unbroken, Hour unto hour around us wrought. 1904 DAILY BREAD * This day our daily bread,' — O heart, be satisfied ; Enough for thee if daily need Be day by day supplied. This day our daily bread, — Be simple wants thy wealth : The modesty of thy desires Shall be thy spirit's health. This day thy daily bread, — And He who doth provide The lesser things will surely add All thou dost need beside. This day our daily bread, — So shall the simple prayer Keep thee in daily thought of him Who makes thy loaf his care. 1915 EASTER GLADNESS O DAY of light and gladness, Of prophecy and song, What thoughts within us waken, What hallowed memories throng ! The soul's horizon widens. Past, present, future blend ; And rises on our vision The life that hath no end. Earth feels the season's joyance ; From mountain-range to sea The tides of life are flowing. Fresh, manifold and free. In valley and on upland, By forest pathways dim, All Nature lifts in chorus The resurrection hymn. 30 EASTER GLADNESS O Lord of life eternal, To thee our hearts upraise The Easter song of gladness, The Passover of praise. Thine are the many mansions, The dead die not to thee, Who fillest from thy fullness Time and eternity. 1905 THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM Not over great Jerusalem Rested the mystic star of old, But over little Bethlehem, — In holy legend we are told. The watching shepherds heard with awe And felt the brush of unseen wings ; While from afar the wise men saw And joyful came with offerings. It passed the mighty of the earth, The pride of wealth, the pomp of kings, To mark a prophet's lowly birth And shame the scorn of common things. Nor beat of drum nor bugle cry Announced on earth his coming reign. But ' Glory be to God on high, On earth be peace, good will to men ! ' 32 THE STAR OP BETHLEHEM Still go before us, mystic star, Our dull and blinded eyes to clear ; We follow with the wise men far. And with the wondering shepherds hear. Again the angel hosts draw nigh, With them we sing the Christmas strain : * All glory be to God on high, On earth be peace, good will to men ! ' Christmas, 1893 MOTHER AND CHILD Again the angel song we hear, The guiding star we see ; The mighty of the earth draw near To helpless infancy. And ever as the year grows old, Within the simple lines Of the familiar story told A deeper meaning shines. In every happy mother's face To-day, the wide world o'er, There speaks to us a tenderer grace For Mary's joy of yore : And every new-born child of earth A glory doth receive, Reflected from the Christ-child's birth On that first Christmas eve. Christmas, 1903 A WOODLAND CHRISTENING Beneath these woodland arches dim To us made holy ground, Beside the smooth lake's mirrored rim By mountains girt around, — With grateful hearts, O God, to thee From whom his being came, This little child we dedicate And in thy Name would name. May he each year in knowledge grow, In wisdom and in grace, — V That inmost blessing ever know Of those who see thy face. The bounty of the friendly air, The joy of laughing rills, The peace o'erbrooding everywhere, Strength of the lasting hills, — A WOODLAND CHRISTENING 35 The beauty sky and earth between, The spirit of this hour, Their love who watch, unseen and seen, Be his baptismal dower ! For J. B. M. : Birchbay, June 28, 1910 THE CITY OF GOD '■For he looked for the city which hath the foundations, whose builder and maker is God.' In thee we meet on kindred ground, O Pilgrim City by the sea, — By one high faith and purpose bound, Pilgrims toward better things to be. The separating seas are crossed. Each heart is understood of each ; On this our day of Pentecost Fade out the lines of race and speech. One heritage alike we share, Transcendent, jedr by year more vast, — The widening thought and hope and prayer, The gathered good of all the past. And one the goal to which we press By toilsome paths as yet untrod, — Earth's longed-for reign of righteousness, The shining City of our God ! International Congress of Religious Liberals : Boston, Sept., 1907 HARVARD DIVINITY SCHOOL Within these walls what voices break The silence to the inward ear ! What memories rise and visions wake Of friendly guides, of prophet, seer: The forbears of our household name Whose lives within our own we feel, Who from the halls of Harvard came And bore upon their hearts her seal. Unbound by outgrown rite and creed, Yet nurtured from a living past, They dared to trust the Spirit's lead Nor deemed its latest word the last. Here be our holiest vows renewed. Here be reconsecrate our powers ; The love of truth, the prayerful mood That stayed the fathers still be ours ! Harvard Divinity School Centennial : Divinity Hall, 1916 EMERSON No prophet of the wilderness, Rough-clad and stern of speech, he came ; None knew him by the outward dress, And few foresaw the coming fame. But they who listened to him caught A music soft as April rain ; O'er the brown fields of faith and thought The airs of springtime breathed again. All ministries that wait on man His soul receptive learned to know ; The stream that through his meadow ran Ran double with a mystic flow. Along the plain familiar way Fresh truth from living wells he drew ; In life, in nature, night and day. The glory of the One broke through. EMERSON 39 No more the living voice is heard, The pines he loved stand o'er his dust ; The gospel of his life and word The coming ages hold in trust. Emerson Centennial : May 25, 1903 ABRAHAM LINCOLN The prairies to the mountains call, The mountains to the sea ; From shore to shore a nation keeps Her martyr's memory. Though lowly born, the seal of God Was in that rugged face : Still from the humble Nazareths come The saviors of the race. With patient heart and vision clear He wrought through trying days, — 'Malice toward none, with love for all,' Unswerved by blame or praise. And when the morn of Peace broke through The battle's cloud and din, He hailed with joy the promised land He might not enter in. ABRAHAM LINCOLN 41 He seemed as set by God apart, The winepress trod alone ; l^ow stands he forth an uncrowned king, A people's heart his throne. Land of our loyal love and hope, O Land he died to save, Bow down, renew to-day thy vows Beside his martyr grave ! Centennial Hymn : February 12, 1909 FORWARD THROUGH THE AGES Forward through the ages, In unbroken line, Move the faithful spirits At the call divine : Gifts in differing measure, Hearts of one accord, Manifold the service. One the sure reward. Forward through the ages. In unbroken line. Move the faithful spirits At the call divine. Wider grows the kingdom, Reign of love and light ; For it we must labor. Till our faith is sight. Prophets have proclaimed it, Martyrs testified, Poets sung its glory. Heroes for it died. Refrain : Forward through the ages. FORWARD THROUGH THE AGES 43 Not alone we conquer, j Not alone we fall ; In each loss or triumph Lose or triumph all. Bound by God's far purpose In one living whole, Move we on together To the shining goal ! Refrai7i : Forward through the ages. 1908 CLOISTERS OF THE SPIRIT God laid his rocks in courses, With greenwood crowned the hill ; To yoke the ancient forces He led the new-born will ; Man's will he woke to duty, He graced the hand that wrought, - Till in the temple's beauty The Soul its Father sought. To cloisters of the spirit These aisles of quiet lead : Here shall the vision gladden, The voice within us plead ; And may the dear All-Father, Who maketh trouble cease, Here send his three strong angels. Contrition, Hope and Peace ! CLOISTERS OP THE SPIRIT 45 The song these walls shall echo Be song the heart within, The prayer in consecration's Sweet solitudes begin ! Work on, O silent Builder, Perfect the inner shrine, Till song pass into service, Prayer into life divine ! Here be no man a stranger ; No holy cause be banned ; No good for one be counted, Not good for all the land ; And here for prophet- voices The message never fail, — ' God reigns ! his Truth shall conquer, And Right and Love prevail ! ' 1911. Altered from pages 46, 47 in Series 11 ORDINATION Still comes the Call to who will hear ! A listening spirit heard, And fain would go with message clear To be the living Word. O holy Voices, bid to-day- All thought of self to cease, — In God alone his strength and stay, His gladness and his peace ! Ordain in him the seeker's mind Of eager, trusting youth, That hastens forth each morn to find Fresh manna-falls of truth: Ordain the constant heart to take The side of outcast Right, In duty's rocky fields to make His gardens of delight. ORDINA TION 47 Give him the eyes that pity men, The tones that stir and thrill, The broken heart to heal again, To brace the faltering will ; A vision of the Eternal Face, Where others' sight grows dim : A prophet truthing it in grace, i The Christ, ordain in him ! Nor one alone : in all, O God, For nobler ministry On heights of life as yet untrod. Awake the glad ' Send me ! ' Use us for braver words and deeds, For toil with love ashine, — Our heart-beat timed to human needs, Our wills made one with thine ! 1911. 1 'dAijtJeuoj'Tes 5e kv d\dnj),' Eph. iv: 15 MOTHER AND CHILD ' God could not be everywhere, so he made Mothers ' When, among all life's miracles, I try What highest argument may certify That God is good, however things may seem, On this I rest, — and evil dims to dream : Each little Soul that voyages toward birth, When it arrives on earth , Its first sea-mysteries o'er, Makes gentle land-fall on a Mother's breast! This, too, I think : If mother-rapture wait Each helpless advent on Time's island- shore, Must not Eternity, the continent. Have harbors all as safe ? I ask no more. It did not know its port, that little Soul, — Unsteering found its goal : Fear naught, my Soul, sail on. With orders sealed sail on, to find Life's Best! 1901 KINDERGARTNERS ' The child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom: and the grace of God was upon him.' ' We are laborers together with God.' Co-workers we with God! Were he to ask, * Come, star with me the spaces of my night, Or fashion forth the crystals of my snow, Or tone with me to-morrow's sunset light. Or teach my sweet June roses next to blow,' — O rare beatitude ! But holier task. Of all his works of beauty fairest-high, Is that he keeps for hands like ours to ply ! When he upgathers all his elements. His days, his nights, whole eons of his June, The Mighty Gardener of the earth and sky, That to achieve toward which the ages roll. Creation's blossom, beautiful, intense. We hear the Voice that sets the spheres a- tune, — * Help me, O comrades, flower this little Soul ! ' For the Kindergartners' Conference in Koches- TBR. N. Y., 1904 SNOW Winter-silent is the land, Winter whiteness everywhere ; Hid as in a folded hand Waits a wonder of the air. Grey and slumber-sealed the skies -. Something mystic broods between, Ambush of the still surprise, Unseen glory in the seen. Suddenly the heavenly ways People with a starry host, Moving down, a whirling maze, To invade the earthly coast. Hour on hour the crystal shapes Flash into their perfect form : From the law not one escapes, Riot as it may the storm. SNOW 51 Engineries of Nature's grace, Soundless, sure, invisible, What the power, and where the place, Of your endless miracle ? Apparitions born to die Million millions in a breath, Is your beauty signalling Life as very soul of Death ? Snow-flake, is thy symmetry Matter of divine concern, — Courses of the stars on high Hinting nothing more eterne ? If the snow-flake, what the Soul, — No concern, its little lot ? In the vastness of the Whole, Spirit-star, am I forgot ? Source of Beauty, make me know, Where my skies loom grey above, Lurks thy miracle of Snow, Radiant of law and love ! 52 SNOW Winter-silent lies my land ? Over-brooding lies the Care ! Fast within a folded Hand Waits my glory of the air ! APRn. What's all the trouble Stirring the still ? Grasses are busy Greening the hill ; Rootlets are feeling Down in the dim ; Brooklets are stealing Through the dry limb ; Ferns are uncurling Out of the sere ; Woods are awaking, — Anemone's here ! Birds are re-sprinkling Song on the air ; Youths and the maidens Are going a-pair : What's all the trouble ? The Call of the Sun ! The Lure of the Skies ! Earth's trembling all over With atom-replies, — While Man, the one -word- wise, Laughs, ' April ! ' A SUMMER IN THE SILENCE OF THE HILLS A SUMMER in the silence of the hills ! Green waves of wilderness around us lay, Billows of sparkling forest, where by day Cloud-shadows moved and paused and loitered on, Until the brooding twilight made all shad- ows one. Cresting the hill our red-roofed Home uprose : The leafy paths wound in and out the trees That, nest-like, hid sweet cottage priva- cies; Far down, the leaping streamlet lit the Glen, And sang an ' Auld lang syne ' to ease the cares of men. IN THE SILENCE OF THE HILLS 55 Nor these afar. Along the leagues we spake ; The trains like shuttles knit; into our hand Daily dropt love and tears froni every land; And God ! how clear across our hush the roar At dawn, at noon, at eve, those guns on China's shore ! Our comrades there, Friends of the Quiet Way And Simple Life, who greet with pronoun quaint We world-folk save for prayer or holy saint ; Who listen to their soul on First-day morn For the still voice of God, and hear the Word fresh-born. 56 IN THE SILENCE OP THE HILLS Good grey-heads many; brows of sea- soned calm ; Eyes that when yoimg, in our sad history, Had watched on dim subways of liberty For dusky fugitives ; and feet, not few, Pickets of peace to-day in friendless causes new. Dear mother-hearts, life-tried and sorrow- wise; Quick, busy men, in weekly ebb and flow; A charm of bright-faced girls in rosy blow, At glancing games with merry-hearted boys; With all the little children's blessed, bub- bling noise. And he who found the daffodils a-dance, And gardened them forever in his song. Was with us everywhere the summer long; IN THE SILENCE OP THE HILLS hi Lover of hermit rills and mountain moods, And austere hearts of shepherds in green solitudes, — The Poet of plain living and high thought : As in the English lake beside his doors He saw his hills, so in his verse lay ours. Threefold our summer spell, threefold its grace, A rounding harmony of Poet, People, Place. A summer in the silence of the hills ! And now a haunted silence in the breast : There will its shadows glide, its twilights rest, The shining of the forest hold its gleam, And unforgotten faces light some happy dream. Buck Hill Falls, Pa., 1904 'BREAD — AND ROSES, TOO' In every human heart A dreaming Jacob lies, And in the dream the ladders grow That reach up to the skies. It was a white-faced waif, Cold, hunger-thin, astray: « Now what in all the world,' one cried, ' Would you like best to-day ? ' He thought of body's plight : Would it be doughnuts sweet, Or cakes, or tarts, or cherry-pie ? Perhaps a candy -treat ? Two wan eyes starred with light : * O may I really choose ? I want ' (in whisper-words it came) ' Some — red — morocco — shoes ! ' 'BREAD — AND ROSES, TOO' 59 The old, old dream divine Of Beauty, ever new ! The bread we need, — the rose we want ; The bread, — but roses, too. And yet shall dawn a day, The day of dreams come true, When all, with bread, shall have the rose, — Bread, and the roses, too ! Meanwhile the gates swing soft, And down the secret stair, To comfort mortals on the road, The angels still repair. A sermon-catch from E. A. R., 1912 THE HEART OF JUNE With a copy of 'Aucassin and Ntcollette ' A GREENNESS of June, a warble of birds, A breath of roses a-blow, And a man and a maid in love, in love. Six hundred summers ago ! O who would care for the song or rose, Or who would care for the green. Had June forgotten to love, to love, In ever a summer between ? Come, green of the June, and warble of bird. And breath of roses a-blow, — But heart of you all are two who love As two in the long ago ! To Beth and Bert, June 14, 1898 AND STILL THE EYES THAT LIFT I KNOW it all, — the lift, the light, the peace, That heavenward drew in eyes of Beatrice. And not by courteous messenger her grace, — Herself she came in her own blessed face. In the Dark Wood of an uncertain will She found me groping for the Sunlit Hill . I followed : mine no Dante-path of woe, Nor terraces where painful pilgrims go. She came, — the Dark Wood stirred with flower and breeze, And bird-song trembled in the happy trees ! She came, — and Sunlit Hill, the Eunoe Fount, The Earthly Paradise, were mine ! Where she With unreturning feet still comrades me ; And still the eyes that lift, — and still I mount ! On her Fiftieth Birthday, 1904 EARTH'S WAY AND HEAVEN'S WAY What shall we be in that strange land, So near and yet so far, So just beyond a single breath, — But absolute the bar ? It may be * I,' it may be ' You,' It may be closelier one, — Life within life ; and Earth's old way Seem hardly life begun. But O so sweet this little while First to be ' You ' and ' I ', — To see, to hear, to touch, — to love, Earth's way, ere Heaven we try ! 1913 ON LOVE'S SUPREME Love-lighted to the end, she may have thought, As in she passed, ' When was I here before?' And when the radiant faces, more and more, With old-home smiles their eager welcome brought, Amid the gentle din she must have sought His voice familiar at some opening door, Ware of no change, love-folded as of yore, Nor dreaming what Death's miracle had wrought. Happy such morrows to love-lighted days ! The Heaven to her as Earth with him had been, — The Earth to him as Heaven, because, within. Her memories still vision all his ways. High on Love's sweet supreme the two confess, « Death teacheth us the things of Deathless- ness ! ' To Z. P. S. and A. C. S., 1904 The Old Watertown Burying-Ground lies, not in neg- lect, but in happy disregard, not far above Mount Auburn, on Mount Auburn Street. There are three or four pillar-tomb stones in it, such as our forefathers set over the dust of dignitaries and worthies. On one of these the inscription reads : PIOUS LYDIA MADE & GIVEN BY GOD AS A MOST MEET HELP TO JOHN BAILEY MINISTER OF Y GOSPELL GOOD BETIMES * BEST AT LAST LIVED BY FAITH * DIED IN PEACE WENT OFF SINGING * LEFT US WEPING WALKT WITH GOD TILL TRANSLATED IN Y 39 YEARE OF HER AGE APRIL Y 16, 1691 READ HER EPITAPH IN PROv. 31. 10, 11, 12, 28, 29, 30, 31 IN THE OLD WATERTOWN BUEY- ING GROUND Here in the shade throuorh all the chano-- o ing years She lies, to whom the wilderness gave love; Here did they hide her, and their falling tears Dropped record m the stone they carved above. From hearts of stern old Pm-itans these words. When few and stranger in the land their race, And grey wolves howled at night around her resting-place. The few to many grew, the many one, Till children's children played by far- thest seas. The wars have come and gone. With every smi 66 IN THE OLD BURYING GROUND Griefs fade like leaves. And still be- neath the trees The love-words cling as lichens to their rock. Before the Charles its forest murmur ceased The river-parish mourned this gentle woman-priest. What was she in her face, her tones, her smile ? The eyes, wherein the silent song abode Her linnet heart sang inwardly the while, Till, at the end outbreaking, their tears flowed ? No echo lingers, no tradition tells : A village saint, forgot of legend's art. Unknown Madonna of the Puritanic heart. Yet moss-grown words hold secrets. ' Good betimes,' — That hints a charm of early maiden ways ; And ' Best at last,' — the growth in grace, the chimes IN THE OLD BURYING GROUND 67 Of woman's powers perfecting with the days. * She walkt with God ' : the Someone- with-her felt Woke sense of holy place in Watertown, And woodland paths knew quiet above their wonted own. The cull of verses from the wise old book Tell her two joys, — the joy of mother's breast Enfolding little ones ; the following look In husband-eyes that speaks a heart at rest, The while he praises God at morn and eve Because she is his very loving wife, The constant pleasantness of all his days of life. ' The heliDmeet of their minister,' it reads : Angel of their rough homesteads ; hands and feet A gentleness at bed-sides ; to slow needs Of age a comforter ; a face that windows greet, And blessings wait in closets of the heart ; 68 IN THE OLD BURYING GROUND One whom the barefoot children laugh to meet ; To whom glad youths and maidens bring their secret sweet. And on the Lord's Day in the parish-pew, Straight-backed, uncushioned, like the creed's content, I see her lips interpreting anew In terms of love the preacher's argument ; Her eyes reflect the fervors of his prayer. Full oft her heart to heaven had sung its way Before the angel- voices bade, ' Come in and stay ! ' She ' went off singing ' — and ' left us to wepe ' : The love-words lie dim-lettered in the stone. Still in the shadows here remembrance keep. Across two himdred Jimes the song, the moan ; Two hundred snows of silence on them sleep. IN THE OLD BURYING GROUND 69 With battle -thoughts forlorn, one day I strolled, To find, and love again, the parish-saint of old. 1918 ♦GROW OLD ALONG WITH ME' Age makes confession, if it urge That grey of head is boyhood's brown : Is ebbing wave the shoreward surge ? Does Autumn wear an April gown ? Although at morn and even play The mysteries of twilight dim, It IS an empty word to say The evening is the morning hymn. But nothing is it less divine. With all the holy night in fee : The Morning, and one world was mine ; The Night, — a heaven of worlds I see ! O joy for what the years teach well, The trust that this one world we know — How bright, how dear, no song can tell — Of those is only embryo ! For a Seventieth Birthday, 1907 SUNSET Sweet hill-top sessions wait you yet, Watch-hours before your own sunset, Life's clouds to quiet glory made, And twilight folding shade on shade. Then song of the Hidden Thrush, — Far- widening hush, — And silence, — and the stars ! To H. G. S., on his Seventy-fifth Birthday, 1912 ABRAHAM LINCOLN, FOREVER Tune, '■Marching throuqh Georgia ' Born in a log-cabin, and he had a spelling- book, — That was all the outfit that the little Abram took: King of Hearts it made him ! When he died, the country shook, — Abraham Lincoln, forever ! Hurrah ! hurrah ! he brought the Jubilee ! Hurrah ! hurrah ! the man who made us free ! Men shall sing his praises from the mountains to the sea, Abraham Lincoln, forever ! Dark along the North there hung the thun- der-clouds of war, Brightly gleamed the watch-fires on the Southern hills and shore, When uprose the gaunt-face hero, sound- heart to the core, — Abraham Lincoln, forever ! ABRAHAM LINCOLN FOREVER 73 Black men for their freedom trembling, white men for their land, Watched the patient eyes that feared not, felt the steady hand, Knew that somehow God was with him, — Liberty would stand ! Abraham Lincoln, forever ! Heart without a nook for malice, only room for grace, All his will to pluck the thistle, plant the flower in place, — And he lived to save a nation, died to save a race, Abraham Lincoln, forever ! For the Rochester Boys' Evening Home, 1900 MOTHER NIGH-FORGOTTEN ^God bless my mother! All that lam, or ever hope to be, I owe to her.' Abraham Lincoln, O Mother nigh-forgotten, To-day, amid our joy, A thankful land remembers The Mother of the Boy ! Empires had aged and vanished ; The centuries imrolled ; A New World rose from shadow New cycles to unfold. Again the heavens yearned downward ; Again, in winter wild, The self-same stars were watching A Mother and a Child ; Again the manger-cradle. The oxen standing by. The humble folk low bending To catch a baby's cry. O MOTHER NIGH-FORGOTTEN 76 O little knew that Mother, Madonna of the AVest, How Fate and Fame were watching The child upon her breast ! jSTo angel-vision showed her The spirit's growth in grace, The wisdom and the stature. The patience in the face. She heard no song of captives In rajiture of release ; No praising world acclaim him God's Messenger of Peace ; .Nor saw, across the Aprils, The form upon the rood, And a great nation shaken With grief and gratitude. The boy her heart had prayed for. And loved so mother-well, — No dream foretold him Savior, A land's Emmanuel. 76 O MOTHER NIGH-PORGOTTEN Now, Woman of the birth-pangs, Mother, who never knew, With battle-scars outfaded, Our faces turn to you ! The four winds all are throbbing A chime of birthday bells ; Through North and South commingled One surge of gladness swells. O Mother nigh-forgotten, To day, amid our joy, A land al-1 thanks remembers The Mother of the Boy ! Abraham Lincoln's Hundredth Birthday, Febru- ary 12, 1909 THE CHRIST OF THE ANDES 'Zfow beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that puhlisheth peace ; that bringeth good tidings of good, that pubhsheth salvation ; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!' What gleams so bright on the mountain-top In the rise and set of the sun ? What rapture of song do the rivers shout, As down through the hills they run ? The Beautiful Feet have come, have come, Of him who publisheth Peace ! Who saith to the lands, The Good Godreigns, And the hells of War shall cease ! The angel-song in the skies of old At last is echoed of men : The Beautiful Feet have come, have come, — O never to go again ! Why linger there on the moimtain-tops ? Come down to the plain, the shore. To the noisy mart, to the plotting kings, And travel the wide earth o'er. 78 THE CHRIST OP THE ANDES Come into our hearts, O Beautiful Feet, And man from his hate release ! The world is weary ; it listens, it longs For the foot-fall bringing Peace. Christmas, 1904 In 1900, the sister Republics, Argentina and ChUe, were on the brink of war. It was an old dispute about boundary-lines. Good Bishop Benevente of Argentina appealed to his countrymen to settle the dispute by arbitration instead of war. King Edward of England was asked to be arbitrator, and the two nations quietly acquiesced in his decision. To signalize and perpetuate this victory of Peace, a colossal statue of Christ was dedicated, March 13, 1904. One hand holding his cross of sacrifice, the other uplifted to heaven, the Christ OF THE Andes stands on the boundary-line, fourteen thousand feet above the sea, blessing both countries as they lie below in peace. JOr OF MORNING ' Weeping may tarry for a night, but Joy cometh in the morning.' Joy of morning in the skies, Laughter of the glad sunrise, Waking all the lands anew In the sparkle of the dew ! 3oj of morning in the slow Upward climb of life aglow, — Rock to flower, and brute to face. Dawn in man of angel grace ! Joy of morning in the soul. Lighting it from goal to goal, Ever in wild hearts of youth Visioning a larger truth ! Joy of morning's break of song After starless nights of wrong. Gladdening history's tragic way, Prelude of a happier day ! 80 JOY OP MORNING Hate and hurt the dark may fill, Light shall be the victor still. Freshening Spirit, living Breath, Rend once more the clouds of death ! Bring with thee an earth made new, Peace its sunrise, love its dew ! Lo, the Day-spring from on high, God's great morning in the sky ! 1917 AMERICA AT THE PEACE CONGRESS: 1899 During her Conquest of the Philippines Why is she late at the Tryst of the Peace- makers ? Where is the youngest and fairest of all, Last-born of Liberty, darling of Destiny, Star of the stricken and hope of the thrall ? Russia is here from her jilains and her river- gates, England has come from her isles of the sea, Italy hastens aleap o'er the hill-tops, Germany, France, — they forget and agree. Why lags America ? Still at her chivalry, Saving some little one pressed by the foe ? Spending her treasure and sharing her privilege, Loosing the captive of hunger and woe ? S2 AT THE PEACE CONGRESS: i8gg Lo, she comes radiant! Lo, she comes beautiful ! Welcome and praise for her, hail to her deed! Place for the selfless one, room for the rescuer, ' Rights of the People ' her banner and creed ! Red is her robe, — she is Land of the After- glow; Red-lit her cheek, — it is heart-glow her own. Red on her hands! Is it blood7 Dares America Mock the White Muster, red-handed alone ? All of the others are doffing war's garniture, Swordless and stainless and minded for peace ; She alone alien, unwashed of her battle- smoke, — Sea-winds pursuing her, shrieking ' Re- lease ! ' AT THE PEACE CONGRESS: i8qg 83 Crownless she sits there, imstarred of her radiance, Blood on her hands and greed in her heart ; — Blood of young patriots lavished for lib- erty, Greed of the conqueror, wile of the mart. This, for the splendor with which she faced Godward ! This, for the vision that heavened her eyes ! Bulk of the body for soul-growth im- perial, — O the mad barter of sin and surprise ! How can she sing of it, * Sweet land of Liberty,' She with her clarion used for its ban ? Hushed be the song till the silence re- teaches her Faith that makes faithful to God and to Man ! S4: AT THE PEACE CONGRESS: iSgg Have not the fathers pledged her to right- eousness ? Died not the sons to redeem from eclipse ? Vision shall star once again the sweet brows of her, Song be re-born on the beautiful lips ! AMERICA REDEMPTA: 1917-1918 During the Great War for Liberty Was it for nothing, that Tryst of the Peace- makers ? Winters and summers have fled not a score, — All the earth rocks with the thmiders of battle, All the world aches in the anguish of war. Into the circle of horror she moveth. Radiant, beautiful : * Here is my all ! Take me repentant! The Rights of the People Henceforth forever my pledge and my call ! ' Hear her, O fathers, who gave her to right- eousness, Hear her, O sons, who redeemed from eclipse ! Vision is starring again the sweet brows of her. Song is reborn on the beautiful lips ! 86 AMERICA REDEMPTA Not for a nothing ! Through home-break and heart-break Flooding as never the Dream sm:ges now, — 'Peace on the earth,' the resolve of the nations : Souls of dead heroes are shrining the vow. Peace born of battle ! Through war to for- giveness ! Strange is the lessoning, ache of it long. Hearts taught communion by hands that are crimson, Crimsoned with blood of the brother gone wrong ? Yea, if it must be I The i3eoples lie gasping, Caught in the clutch of his frenzy to rule ; War stalks incarnate wherever he rages ; Liberty perishes, feast of a ghoul. God of the Must-Be, keep thou the heart, then! Used as thy angel of smiting, we ask. < Angel,' — not dragon : O Heart of America, Angel thyself for the awe of thy task ! AMERICA REDEMPTA 87 Thou and thy comrades ! No dragon within us Serves the High God to slay dragons without : Only Saint Michael receives the commission, Only Saint George shall the victory shout. Nothing for self, but solely to liberate ! Battle, but only that battle may cease ! Victor, to make the earth safe for democ- racy. Widen man's brotherhood, stablish his peace ! Humbly, forgivingly, then shall the nations Seek them together a Sinai untrod, Hear the New Law in a Tryst of the Peace-makers, Frame a New World for the peoples of God! 1918 BEFORE THE EXPOSITION ' /St. Louis is getting ready for its Exposition. But it is only April. All over the Exposition Grounds are most tempting suggestions of beauty to come: headless horses, human torsos awaiting the arms and legs that are in the shop, wings ready for bodies not yet arrived, and figures ready to be grouped.' — J. LI. J., in ' Unity,' April, 1901,. Headless horses, human torsos, Waiting arms and legs-to-be, Wings detached, and groups dissevered, — Chaos, welter, anarchy! Yet each shard a shred of beauty, Yet each curve a sweep of grace. Wings that hint the coming angel, Arms that prophesy the face. In a way and at a moment Known, predestined, all shall meet. Mated, wedded, in the glory Of the Master's thought complete ; Every limb achieve its gesture, Every torso find its whole, Every cluster act its drama In some rapture of the Soul. BEFORE THE EXPOSITION 89 As I look, the vision widens, Vanishes the city fair, Round me History's vast horizons Strewn with wreckage aod despair; Here the limb and there the torso. Severed wings and hands and feet : Ruin ? Nay, but coming glory, Glory of the Man Complete ! Man the Gardener — Man the Builder — Man the Singer of the song — Man the Thinker — Man the Brother — Man the Righter of the wrong ! Onward, upward, through the ages Shaping Nature to its plan, Lo, the cosmic thought emerges, — Lo, the Son of God in Man ! 1901 1918 Though the Christmas bells are muffled, And the carols will not sing, Still to faith the vision widens, And the torsos challenge fling : Slow the cosmic thought emerges, Long the agonies of birth, But the Master's purpose holdeth, — Peace, (BooDsMill, tbe Cbcist on ;i6artb! INDEX OF FIRST LINES Page Across a century's border-line 24 Again the angel song we hear 33 Age makes confession, if it urge 70 A greenness of June, a warble of birds .... 60 A summer in the silence of the hills 54 Beneath these woodland arches dim' 34 Born in a log-cabin, and he had a spelling-book 72 Co-workers we with God! Were he to ask ... 49 Forward through the ages 42 From age to age how grandly rise 13 From old to new, with broadening sweep ... 12 God laid his rocks in courses 44 Headless horses, human torsos 88 Hear, hear, O ye Nations, and hearmg obey . . 8 Here in the shade through all the changing years 65 Here where our fathers built of old 16 I know it all, —the lift, the light, the peace . . 61 In every human heart 58 In thee we meet on kindred ground 36 Joy of morning in the skies 79 Love-lighted to the end, she may have thought . 63 92 INDEX OP FIRST LINES Pagb No prophet of the wilderness 38 Not over great Jerusalem 31 Now while the day in trailing splendor .... 27 O Blest the souls that see and hear 26 O day of light and gladness 29 O Mother nigh-forgotten 74 Still comes the Call to who will hear 46 Still loom the Sinais, rugged, grand 5 Sweet hill-top sessions wait you yet 71 The outward temple stands complete .... 20 The prairies to the mountains call .40 ' This day our daily bread ' 28 Though the Christmas bells are muffled ... 90 Through willing heart and helping hand ... 18 Thy kingdom come, O Lord 7 Uplift the song of praise 10 Uplifted be the voice of praise 22 Was it for nothing, that Tryst of the; Peace- makers? 85 What gleams so bright on the mountain-top . . 77 What's all the trouble 53 What shall we be in that strange land .... 62 When, among all life's miracles, I try .... 48 When shadows gather on our way 15 Why is she late at the Tryst of the Peace- makers? 81 Winter-silent is the land 50 Within these walls what voices break . . . . 37 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 863 588 4