'^ofco. v ;\ JUN 8 1898 | *>£j»Afrr*^ \. REMINISCENCE AND OTHER POEMS — BY AELLA GREENE. Published in 1898. JUN -81898 r of <*?f TWO COPIES RECEIVED. 75 iH* HO Copyright, 1898, BY AELLA GREENE. THE COTTAGER PMNT, ATHOL, MASS. To My New England Friends CONTENTS. REMINISCENCE: A MISSIVE THE OLD ROAD THE "CENTRE" AND "NAZARETH' THE PARSON AND THE DEACON THE SUNDAY TEACHER •MAJOR" BROWN THE COBBLER AND THE SMITH ABIJAH BEERS GABE THOMPSON SQUIRE SMITH RETROSPECT ENVOY IN '98: ONWARD DEWEY AND THE DONS THE SECOND OTHER POEMS: A TRIBUTE NATURE'S MOODS A SONG OF OTSEGO "THE PAPER" THE ALLOPATHS SOME CRITICS REMINISCENCE A MISSIVE. T~)EAR John May fair of Mansfield Square, My playmate and my friend, Let courts and clients wait while you Give heed to verse I send Inviting yuu to visit soon The scenes we knew of yore ; Come, take the time to try your hand At being boy once more. Forget your briefs and drop the cares Whose weight would break you down ; Go countryward, and there remain Until robust and brown, You come to work with that high zest That makes all labor play, But careful goes through drudgery In that majestic way 10 A MISSIVE Which lifts it from the commonplace And gives it meaning high — The hardness where the ladder rests That reaches to the sky ! Dear friend, let memory paint with all Her tenderness of care The neighborhood that was our world, And every object there ! The pansied yard, the slant well-sweep, And apple orchard near, The ancient farm-house, broad and red, By many memories dear, The autumn woods, the golden maize, And old Thanksgiving day, The winter wood-pile at the door, And drifts that choked the way, The home-made hand-sleds and the joys Of coasting down the hill, And all the scenes of rustic cheer, Appear before us still ! A MISSIVE XI Delightful were the fragrant days At springtime on the hill, Whe 1 boys rejoiced to see the wealth Of maple trees distil And gathered it and heard it sing, Above the laughing fire, A carol sweet as ever breathed From angel lip or lyre ! How sweetly sounded o'er the field Wherein you hoed the corn The message through the sunlit air Of that glad dinner horn ! You still preserve that relic rare Of olden country ways ; O, may as pleasant sound to you The trump of future days ! The hayfield from the pasture wide Was parted by a lane And thick-leaved maples where we hid When pattered down the rain. A MISSIVE In other days before those things The mow- machines came round, The country boys had chance to hear The scythe's melodious sound. It was their task to spread the grass And coax it into hay — O, there was work as well as sport, All on a h lying day — Especially when threatening clouds Spread o'er the darkened sky, And rakes flew fast, and flew the carts, To get the hay in dry. Within a grove between our homes A brook and lumber mill For us made merry chorus once — We hear that music still, Although the saw ceased long ago Its musical ado And smaller seems the meagre brook, And less its murmur, too ! A MISSIVE 13 Though time has laid his hands upon The scenes our boyhood knew, Yet we shall find enough remains To pay for the review. And sauntering through the fields in which When boys we roamed about, We'll come upon the brooks wherein We angled oft for trout, And grander felt in counting up Our finny trophies there Than heroes knighted for their deeds, With all the world to stare ! The shed is gone in which you sawed The beech and maple wood, Where cutter, cart and tools were kept And where the grindstone stood That wakens lively memories Of axes hard to grind And of the scythes that sorely tried The temper of your mind ! 14 A MISSIVE You often vowed that when you grew Machinery should serve To do the work that overtaxed The adolescent nerve. But other themes than labor aids Have filled your mind since then, And you have had your axes ground By various sorts of men ! For you were an assemblyman ; And there, on state-house hill, Partaking of the root insane, You were ambitious still, And bent an eye on Washington, A goal you reached at last — How meagre seems that glory, now That 'tis an honor past ! While you have been in public life Your friend somewhat has trod Where literary fellows go, A weary way to plod ! THE OUT" ROAD And yet there have been some to say He wrote the proper stuff, While other some declared his pen Had scrawled about enough ! And this is but the lot of most Within the writing guild — A few, perhaps, have hungered more, And some been better filled. And so, Mayfair, each did as well As does the average lad, And found his life to yield about As much of good as bad. THE OLD ROAD. HTHERE, winding round the hillside still, And grass-grown, yet, the road, Whereon, first dwellers in the iand, Our sturdy grandsires trode. r6 the old road And there we often strolled and thought In wonder on the days When life was simpler far than ours, And worthier, too, of priise, The patriotic days, when there, The soldiery went on, To help the Revolution war, And where, when peace was won, A few survivors came to tell Of bivouac and field, And of compatriots who with gore Their high devotion sealed. Below that road, another where We trudged away to school, To "make our manners" and to learn Hard Colburn's sum and rule. And there, until our schoolboy days, The ancient stage-coach passed, The yellow coach with thoroughbrace, And built to have it last. THE "CENTRE" AND "NAZARETH" I 7 In memory still that stage-coach runs, And, grand as any king, The Jehu sings upon his throne The rhymes he used to sing Of Yankee Doodle and the way That patriotic clown, Bedecked with hat and feathers gay, Came riding into town. Along that way on Sunday morn Fared country folk to church, To hear the preacher's words pour down From off his lofty perch ! THE "CENTRE" AND "NAZARETH." HTHE steeple yonder marks the place Where twenty Smiths or more Had dwellings round the meeting-house, The hay-scales and the store. 1 8 THE "CENTRE" AND "NAZARETH The school-house on the village green Of style in vogue of yore, Had but three windows on a side, And one above the door. There William Wilson taught, who was A teacher born and reared, Whom all the pupils feared and loved And all the town revered. He stiil resides within the town, And though three score and ten, The Smithville people think he is The comeliest of men. Although in Smithville some things change, As modern life demands, Yet there, in rigid plainness, still, The ancient town-house stands, Reminding of town-meeting days When Smiths were potent there, And always had a Smith for clerk And one to hold "the chair." THE "CENTRE" AND "NAZARETH' Their village was Jerusalem ! And consequence that came To Smiths "decreed" therein to live Outshone all other fame ! They were ordained from ancient time To have this best of earth ; Twas set apart in compliment To their predestined worth ! Besides the village, they were given The choice of seats on high ! The best of earth, and foreordained To holdings in the sky ! Divinely platted out for them, Their place was fixed and fast — A legacy, itself, and then, With what did it contrast? For, three miles from the "Centre," was The "Nazareth" neighborhood, Where dwelt the Browrs whom "Centre" folk Thought anything but good ! THE "CENTRE" AND "NAZARETH The "Centre" had a pound where Smiths Drove "Nazareth" cattle in, And had a tavern where they said The Browns took frequent gin ! And they were shiftless and were odd Nor sought for worldly means ; And so the "Centre" Smiths despised The "back-street Nazarenes," And thought them due in darkness deep That by the old "decrees" Was planned to blacken and to chill The dread eternities '. O ! ever gracious Providence ! Inscrutable, but good, To bless the Smiths, but damn the Browns Of "Nazareth" neighborhood ! PARSON AND DEACON. AT Smithville Edward Payson Smith Was deacon forty years ; And he and his at Smithville were Without their social peers. The most unfeeling of his kin Was Deacon Smith, and he Was passionless as rock and so Not given to vanity ; As pure as icebergs and as warm, And always circumspect, As pulseless as the granite is, And therefore as correct ! And yet to heaven '-'elect" was he, And so to heaven he went ! By minister and all the Smiths, And Calvin's dosrmas sent ! PARSON AND DEACON The old-time Smithville minister, The Reverend Payson Bright, Had gold-bowed spectacles and wore A neck-cloth that was white ! There in the Centre meeting-house, For years, he preached and prayed, To cheer the ones elect and make The unelect afraid, And prove that e'er in Eden blest The first man Adam did The wicked thing of eating fruit That was to him forbid, God, who foresaw what man would do, Planned that by which he fell, And planned the consequent and hot Necessity of hell ! THE SUNDAY TEACHER. VyHAT solemn Sundays those for boys Those deacons in their pews ! Their gravity that awed us then Would scarcely now amuse. But dear the hour, with sermon done, And benediction said, When you and I and other boys The Word together read, Unhindered by the 'maps and charts Which now Gamaliel tries, — Machinery contrived to lift Immortals to the skies ! Twas Samuel Milton, kindly man, Heard us say Scripture then ; And seem we still, Mayfair, to hear His pleasant voice again. 24 THE SUNDAY TEACHER How o'er the One of Nazareth, Who did the people good, With miracle and parable And high beatitude, Would Milton's kind, expressive face, That brightens yet the years, Glow sweet with radiant joyfulness, Or sadden unto tears That one whom Christ had trusted long Should plan his Lord to kill, That one like Him the beautiful, Must die on Calvary's hill ! When Milton said that in that death A sacrifice was given That every one on earth might have A chance to get to heaven — "What then," you asked, "of the 'decrees' Set forth by Parson Bright, That some must go to heavenly bliss And some to brimstone plight?" THE SUNDAY TEACHER 25 "O ! boys," he cried, "not Parson Bright, Nor Calvin with his creed Can match the words from Patmos isle — Let's turn, my boys, and read !" And then, with words from Olivet, He poured quotations till In his intensity he read The "whosoever will" That winds the whole evangel up And makes it plain as day That Christ who died hath laid for all To heaven an open way. That day at Milton's house were two Who knelt with him alone ; And hear we still his earnest words, "O Father, bless each one !" And if, Mayfair, we've better proved Than other boys have been And less have learned ourselves about The sinfulness of sin, 26 "major" brown We owe it to his counsel then And his delightful ways That won our hearts and gave a charm To all our boyhood days. His grave is in God's acre where The zephyr gently blows ; Let's thither, John, to think and plant A lily and a rose ! "MAJOR" BROWN. (")NE of the clan the Smiths did ban Was "Major" Brown, and he Was done up brown and broken down By woman's coquetry. He roamed about, in town and out, For shelter and for bread, And cast-off clothes, the gift of those Who harbored and who fed. 'MAJOR BROWN Though here and there and everywhere Well known as "major," yet No rank had he in verity, Nor any by brevet. Always around on muster-ground. Decked out for training- day, From those who trained at last he gained A rank by sobriquet. This broken Brown of Smithville town And Nazareth neighborhood The Smiths thought right to banish quite To torrid latitude ! His griefs were sent as punishment For some wild vagary And proved the taint of some complaint Sprung from iniquity ! And when, at last, the life had passed Of this poor innocent, The Smiths that day made haste to say That straight the "major" went 28 '-major" brown From Smithville down to brimstone-town, Thence never to return, But evermore with anguish sore Of livid flame to burn ! While those there were who could infer That this man's oddities Invited ban, Browns thought the man, Forgiven his vagaries, Had journeyed where in upper air He entered into rest, Had sought the sky and found on high The country of the blest. They thought in heaven he had forgiven Those who could curse a Brown And relegate to brimstone fate Of the infernal town — Thought he forgave those who would crave Upon the life he led On earth, a curse, and hell disburse Into an old man dead ! THE COBBLER AND THE SMITH. 'THE Smiths consigned, besides the Browns, The smith to future flame — Not Smith by name, but village smith, And Jacob Jones by name. A cheery man was he, of whom The memory never tires. Bright flaming seems the smithy still With Jacob Jones's fires. Near by, the shop where Crispin Crane, Adept at boots and shoes, Regaled his patrons with his wit And heard and told the news. Both Jones and Crane the Smiths elect Foredoomed to future wrath, In which there was not even hope Of any heavenward path ! THE COBBLER AND THE SMITH Yet neither cared that Calvinists Did bitterly despise, And neither wept to find he found No favor in their eyes. And as upon his anvil hard The vulcan's hammer rang In keeping with the merry tunes Of ditties that he sang, And came he in his rhymes upon The words that punctured well The Smiths for eagerness displayed . In sending Browns to hell, With greater vigor smote the man Upon his anvil down, And said, "How now, you Smiths, about The fate you give a Brown !" The war came on and Jones went forth To battle for the right, And in the strife he won renown And fell at Lookout Height. THE COBBLER AND THE SMITH 3 I And when his comrades bore him home And all the people came To see his form, and rang aloud The country with his fame, Then Parson Bright, the Calvinist, Sent him to heaven direct, And even Deacon Smith declared The patriot "was elect !" The cobbler Crane who measured feet The people came to find Had the capacity to tike The measure of their mind ! By timely repartee he stilled The town's perplexing bore Who perpetrated bitter jokes On people at the 'Store." And Smitbville vowed, town-meeting day, "Who can this pest defeat Shall be elected here and now To legislative seat." 32 THE COBBLER AND THE SMITH And Parson Bright and Deacon Smith Each voted for the man Whom they had each declared foredoomed To an infernal ban ! Crane proved a wise assemblyman, Was hearty with his friends, And never made a speech unless To compass worthy ends. It was this year in politics A party rose and fell Whose bad disaster at their schemes It is a joy to tell. Late in the term a question rose Which was this party's test, And for it long their leader spoke With artificial zest ; And, in his final flight, declared, "How favored is the land Where, sentinels of public peace, Labor reformers stand !" THE COBBLER AND THE SMITH 33 Exclaimed the Smithville man in glee, " 'Labor reformers !' sure — Reformed from labor ! yes, indeed j A ad never nime was truer. "Below the wrath of common men, Too cheap for ours by half, We'll not oppose your plannings, but Explode them with a laugh !" The wit that beamed in Crispin's eyes Put all in merry mood, And rang around the galleries The shouts of "right" and "good !" The gavel man forgot to rap, Reporters dropped their notes ; The measure then was called and had Only a dozen votes. And that's the way the party died, By this sarcastic Crane ; And hence the reason he was sent Assemblyman again. 34 ABFJAH BEERS And still again was he returned. Until six times in all ; Nor by the lures of lobbyists Did he from honor fall. ABIJAH BEERS. AT Smithville was a man of sin Who had been sure the purse to win Had he and Satan run a race On any course away from grace ! This tedious thorn, Abijah Beer c , With native skill for causing tears, Selected meanness for his art And practiced it with all his heart, Until, perfected, tactful, strong For every business that was wrong, He seemed a sprite from darkness sent, x\nd trouble grew where'er he went. Accomplished in the subtleties Of deftly causing miseries, GABE THOMPSON, SINGING MASTER 35 He cloaked his greed with graciousness And when he cursed appeared to bless ! The skies protect if here again So bad a man 'mong living men ; And never was, since time began, So much of meanness in a man. To find a place for such to dwell, The liberals would have a — hell ! He died at last as fools do die ; Thistles thrive where his ashes lie ! GABE THOMPSON, SINGING MASTER, J^ESOUNDETH yet the psalmody That Smithville used to hear To "Lenox" sung, or dear "Dundee," Or old delightful "Mear." Re-echoed from the other days, Pulsate those songs again, The simple, trancing, homely praise That charmed the people then. 36 GABE THOMPSON, SINGING MASTER Still voiceful are the singers' seats With "fugue tunes" high and low, And still "Gabe" Thompson leads the feats Of "do, re, mi, si, do !" John Gabriel Thompson was his name — 'Twas "Gabe," for short, you see ; And people gladly gave him fame As king of psalmody. Assembled by the meeting bell from all the country round, The people wait to hear him tell The singers "all please sound." And now leads on, this chorister, With tuning-fork in hand, As grand as valiant captains are With armies to command. When Thompson hymned the flower that grows "By cool Siloam's shady rill," With heavenly sweets from Sharon's rose The meeting-house would fill ! And when the theme was "Jordan's flood" And "fields of living green," GABE THOMPSON, SINGING MASTER 37 He sang as if he understood All features of the scene ! From "Zephyr's" gentle consequence And "China's" sad delight, He rose to "Denmark's" excellence And soared to "Ariel's" height, And swept through "Majesty" sublime, And in the hymning showed Jehovah on the winds of time "Come flying all abroad !" \\ hen "Invitation's" notes he sung, The "hills where spices grow" Sent forth the breath to make one young As "youthful hart or roe !" His "Coronation" gladdens yet, For well he caught the theme That led poetic Perronet Along his tuneful dream. It gave the people great delight To hear, to "Sherburne's" sound, "While shepherds watched their flocks by night 38 GABE THOMPSON, SINGING MASTER All seated on the ground !" They listened breathlessly to hear O'er wild Judea's plains, Commingling with the chorister, The glad angelic strains About the child of Bethlehem, And thought they saw the star By light of which the sages came From some strange country far, And reverent poured their myrrh and gold To Him, the wondrous fair, The Prince by prophets long foretold, Throned in a hovel there ! At last "Gabe" Thompson went up higher- Good singers never die ! And there's no doubt he's leading choir Somewhere beyond the sky ! And mingling with the minstrelsy Of the angelic lays The cadence of the psalmody That charmed the Smithville davs ! SQUIRE SMITH 39 And if the angels in the song Should be too high or low He'd have them stop and practice long With "do, re, mi, si, do !" And if his namesake interferes "Gabe" Thompson will declare, "If Gabriel doesn't want to hear — There's room for him elsewhere !" SQUIRE SMITH. QLD Mister Smith of Smithville died Two weeks ago to-day ; 'Twas always thought the person lied Who said he'd pass away. With buoyant step and fragrant breath, And face with health aglow, He seemed no older near his death Than twenty years ago ! Yet gone he has, at last, from earth, As everybody must, Of noble or of lowly birth, Unrighteous they or just. 40 SQUIRE SMITH Elnathan Smith, Esquire, was he ; For such the town's desire, To honor his ability, The guv'nor made him squire, To try such cases as arose O'er mooted boundary lines ; And if two ne'er-do-wells had blows, To fix the proper fines. Ere this he taught the village school Of an adjoining place, Maintaining there a pleasant rule With dignity and grace. To Washington he never went, That town of high import ; Yet twice had been as juror sent x\nd once to General Court ! He had good sense and ready wit And kept whate'er he heard That was for keeping really fit, And always kept his word. SQUIRE SMITH 41 To patriotic teachings true, He deemed of highest worth, And kept, as other people do, The '-'great and glorious Fourth !" He spurned a miser as a thief, And acted "on the square," And those not Masons have belief That Smith had once "been there !" Attending church in holy time, As everybody should, He "joined" in prayer and Sunday rhyme, As pious people would. In later years he strolled in town On pleasant afternoons, Attired in garb of modest brown And humming cheery tunes. He kept his temper all the while Unmarred by frown or fret, And gave a penny and a smile To every child he met. 42 SQUIRE SMITH He had no children of his own. His wife had long since died ; He was to all the people known, To all the Smiths allied. Yet differed he from other Smiths, Nor by a mile did he Admire the Calvinistic myths Of their theology. Yet Smith kept in the old church till The New Lights came along Repeating "whosoever will" For shibboleth and song ! And then he chose the Wesleyan faith, And kinsfolk high and low Declared 'twas "sartin sure" as death, To — somewhere he would go ! And Parson Bright was moved to grief And mourned the lapsing man, And then denounced the new belief As "counter to God's plan;" SQUIRE SMITH 43 Decried the faith to make it less, And most unwisely, so — Denounce the faith of earnestness, And it is sure to grow. And half the Smiths of Smithvilie came The New Light folks to praise, Admire their creed, and take their name, And walk their sunny ways. And those still Calvinists, forsooth, Gave warmer doctrines place And emphasized the pleasant truth Of God's forgiving grace, Compelling, thus, their minister To mellow or resign — He called a meeting to confer, They brought him into line ! And other Calvinists declared That they had been the light ! And other preachers also shared The views of Parson Bright ! 44 SQUIRE SMITH Outgrowing former straits and wants, The Wesleyans came to power, With rulers for communicants And millions for their dower. Not oft who hath foundations laid Beholds the temple done ; Vet Smith saw all this progress made In work he saw begun. Though dear his place of triumphing, He went one sunny day Far off to hear the angels sing — And thought it best to stay ! His life at Smithville which began Closed there at eighty-four, And Smithville mourns that this good man Has gone, to come no more. RETROSPECT. TJOW fondly memory lingers still O'er childhood's simple joys, An 1 fancy paints with magic skill The scenes we knew as boys — Kind memory holding them as ours From that far day to this, And giving now to childhood's flowers The rarest tints of bliss ! The old homes crumbled long ago Before us stand anew ! And faces that we used to know Remembrance brings to view, While missioned by the kindly sky, From some far heavenly hill, The voices of the days gone by To us are speaking still ! 46 RETROSPECT The nooks remain wherein we played, The squirrels chirp as then, And blooming in the beechen shade, The wild flowers deck the glen ! And yonder smiles with pansies bright The yard to childhood dear, Where morning glories give delight And lilac blossoms cheer ; While southernwood and pungent sage From hard-by garden give The perfume of the simple age In which we used to live. And fragrant on the pleasant air The constant apple trees Of sweetings and of pippins fair Kxhale their prophecies. Joy greens the meadows of the May xAnd, later, shall attune To hope's inspiring roundelay The robins of the June ! RETROSPECT 47 Enhearten for the fervid rays Of the midsummer heats And charm the autumn into days Of rarest tints and sweets ! Near by the hardhack pasture where The sheep contented browse, The farm-horse and the oxen share The clover with the cows. The same clouds pasture on the sky, Kept by the shepherd stars ; And fancy's armies still on high Enact their phantom wars ! The airy hosts with gleaming steel Assemble in array, And trumpets call, and squadrons wheel And plunge in mimic fray ! And still the whispering zephyrs tell Of innocence and love, Yet mutter wrathful notes as well Of battle waged above. 4 8 RETROSPECT And we have found in real life The trend of things to be Like alternating peace and strife In scenes of memory ; Yet found love dominant o'er hate And justice over wrong, The humble honored by the great And fostered by the strong ; And shines the sun that never fails Though skies are overcast, And gladness over gloom prevails In memories of the past ! The ancient well-sweep poises high Above the waters where We gazed far down to see the sky Mirrored in beauty there, And stars discerned, though none were seen To gem the r upper blue — Humility and faith serene, To heavenly lustre true ! RETROSPECT 4 9 Athirst, we plunge the bucket down And bring the treasures up Excelling wealth of monarch's crown Or wine of Hebe's cup ! There, purling from its hillside spring, The brook we heard when young Repeats the joyous caroling That was to childhood sung ! Oft when from berry-picking kept By sweetness of the song We stayed until from joy we wept, And then, entranced but strong, Remained till dark all unafraid, When, such had been the charm, The homeward walk through goblin shade Gave not a thought of harm. That music lingers with us still, Enhancing later joys, And fancy sings with magic skill The song we heard when boys ! 5o ENVOY Inspiring thought ! forever ours, From that far day to this, The brook that charmed our childhood's bowers With cadences of bliss ! ENVOY. AND now, Mayfair of Mansfield Square, My playmate and my friend, Give you good heed to what you read In verses that I send Inviting you to a review Of scenes we knew of yore ; Come, take a day, and with me play That we are boys once more. Quit office cares, and town affairs, And urban ways, and fly By road that leads to hills and meads We knew in days gone by. ENVOY 5 i There brooklets sing, and robins wing Their buoyant, joyous flight, Pouring their song the whole day long To cadence of delight. Come, drop your load and take the road To Smithville town, and see What quick relief from cares and grief There is in memory Of mellow chimes that blessed the times Of life's serenest joys, In thought of ways of those dear days When you and I were boys ! IN '98 ONWARD. \TOUR country calls, ye freemen, Your country calls again For valor and devotion Of patriotic men, Columbia calls, ye freemen, And shall not call in vain ; Your country calls and Cuba, Your country and the Maine ! Onward, ye robust thousands Ready to dare and do, With Miles and Lee for leaders, Go fight the battle through. Right onward to Havana, A firm intrepid train, With three times three for country McKinley and the Maine ! 56 ONWARD The North and South united, The Gray will join the Blue And give the cruel foemen The punishment their due ! Who fought each other bravely On many a reddened plain Shall join to free the Cubans From those who wrecked the Maine ! Now here's to gallant Dewey, To Dewey and his crew ; And here's to Captain Sampson, And brave "Bob" Evans, too. Go join their fleets, ye brave men, And by your deeds explain That those whose patience waited Do not forget the Maine ! And here's to 'Merrie England," And bonnie Scots as well, And all the freedom-loving In every land that dwell. ONWARD They all admire your valor, Nor shall they look in vain To those who love the banner That floated from the Maine. Onward to battle, heroes ; Ye good and loyal tars, Invincible the seamen Whose standard is the stars ! Arid foot, and horse, and gunners, Ye will not bring a stain Upon the starry banner The ensign of the Maine. Ye freemen of the Union Ye war for God and right, Ye war against the tyrant And ye shall win the fight ! Though fierce and long the contest, Ye shall not war in vain But rid the Cuban island Of those who wrecked the Maine. 57 ONWARD They starved the helpless thousands Till they were glad to die, And railed in fiendish laughter At their despairing cry ! Then artful lied to Heaven About the Cuban slain, And later slew the seamen Who manned the steamer Maine- And looked again to Heaven, Protesting to the skies Their love for Cuban progress And Cuban liberties ! And by their lies emboldened They answered with disdain To those who mildly questioned The wrecking of the Maine. O, Heaven ! did erstwhile Herod, Or Nero, or the crew Who in the Inquisition The other martyrs slew, ONWARD 59 Exceed these modern monsters, These later fiends of Sp.iin, Who starved the Cuban thousands And wrecked the gallant Maine ? Though bravery is patient, Though patience is sublime, Though forgiveness is virtue And resentment is crime, Though peace is ennobling And the amenities Tnat come without dishonor Are- beautiful and wise- When starving thousands dying To Heaven breathe their cry That tyrants be forbidden Compelling more to die, Ho a- long shall patience tarry From conflict that will save The helpless from the tyrants- How long is patience brave ! 6o ONWARD Placate the Spanish monsters ! And graciously infer That psalmody will tame them And lullabys deter From adding to the thousands Of those their hate hath slain, From other deeds as dastard As that which wrecked the Maine Deck Lucifer for sainthood When Aragon shall turn From rapine and from murder Or when Castile- shall yearn With pity for the starving Or to conscience attain And repent of the horror Of exploding the Maine ! Evangelize with armies And preach with shot and shell- When reasoning with demons Use arguments of hell ! ONWARD ^ I They understand such logic ; And tenderness were vain On those who starved the Cubans And wrecked the steamer Maine Be quick to note repentance And heed the honest tear, But see that Spanish monsters Make their contrition clear ; And, vigilant in kindness, Remember well that Spain Would starve still other thousands And wreck another Maine ! And boastful blazon ever Before the earth and sky The chivalry of teaching Their vassals how to die ! And ask the earth to join them Ani shout with might and main The gallantry of tyrants, The chivalry of Spain ! 62 DEWEY AND THE DONS Your country calls, ye freemen, Your country calls again For valor and devotion Of patriotic men. Your country calls, ye freemen, Nor shall it call in vain — You country calls and Cuba, Your country and the Maine ! DEWEY AND THE DONS. VyHEN Dewey went a-sailing once In foreign seas afar, He demonstrated to the dons What Yankee seamen are. He carried cannons on his ships And "shotted" them aright, Proceeding then to make it plain That Yankee tars can fight. DEWEY AND THE DONS 63 When Dewey went a sailing once Out in Manila bay, And gave the dons a lesson there It was a lively fray. And, O, it was a merry tune That Dewey's gunners played, A tune the Spainards could not dance. But one that they obeyed ! When Dewey went a- sailing once To usher in the May That captain and his seamen had A most compelling way. He woke the drowsy dons from sleep Before the morning light; And now remaining dons aver That Yankee seamen fight. THE SECOND. "MOW to the gallant Second let all give honor due — Our legion of the Bay State and of our country, too, As forward in their duty they go to fight our wars, And carry on to glory the standard of the stars ! They go to teach the tyrants the banner of the free Means hatred of oppression and meaneth victory ! The God of battles guide them and shield them everywhere. And watchful angels ever give their especial care, Inspire them for the conflict and give unerring aim, And honor still their colors, their country and their name ! Now three times three for leader and all the gal- lant band, — THE SECOND 65 The Second of the Bay State, — our legion of the land ! And once again salute them and ever give them cheer And teach the valiant legion the country holds them dear ! And when the war is over may they return again, Ennobled by the struggle — our good and gallant men ! OTHER POEMS A TRIBUTE. HTHOU friend in that believing Which unto me is dear, Thy constancy of kindness Brings consummation near. Thou friend so quick to honor When otheis doubt and sneer, For thee their hate forgiving, For what thou art to me I thank the Heavenly Father, And pray His hand for thee In guidance and upholding Forevermore to be — His blessing here, the earnest Of heaven's felicity '. NATURE'S MOODS. I. T30WERLESS are nature's moods to voice The soul's extremities Of woe, and powerless they to speak Its highest ecstasies. When he who bravely gives a heart And longs for love's return Discovers that the one he seeks Delights his love to spurn, The wailing winds are not enough To chant the spirit's grief, And meagre the significance Of autumn's faded leaf ! For what the requiem of winds, And what the frosts that blight November days, when life to him Is one December night ! nature's moods 7 1 II. Can morning winds through forests bare When night has not a star — Can barrenness of desert drear, Bleak, desolate and far From haunts of birds and homes of men With children's voices glad, — Can any scene of earth proclaim Ho.v wretched and how sad, How sore discomfited the one Who wooes and wins, to find That love, which should inspire and aid, Has forged a chain to bind In thrall more cruel than defeat- Ah ! loyalty that learns How worse the tyranny that hold Than haughtiness that spurns ! 72 nature's moods III. Not all the breath and burgeoning ■ That brings the bird whose lay, When winter's reign of dearth is done, With joy inspires the May ; Nor apple bloom, nor rarest rose, Nor most melodious tune Of all the harmonies that thrill The joyous days of June ; Nor waving wealth of wheaten fields That crowns the summer tide, Nor hues in which October sees The forests glorified, Can tell the greatest, sweetest bliss That ever gladdened earth, His joy who gives a heart, and wins A heart to prize his worth ! A SONG OF OTSEGO. f)F all enchanting rivers That sing to cheer the earth, Or hymn the praise of beauty, Or speak the fame of worth, What one has grander cadence Than Susquehanna's tide? Can one with finer sweetness Than Unadilla glide ? Nerves one to higher valor For war against the wrong? Flows one with nobler numbers To teach the poet song? And fit it is, ye rivers, That well your waters ring ; For where is worth exceeding The excellence ye sing? A SONG OF OTSEGO The chivalry and genius That give Otsego fame Deserve, enchanting rivers, Your grandeur of acclaim And song of all the waters That anywhere on earth Proclaim the praise of beauty Or hymn the fame of worth J Sing sweet, O Susquehanna, And Unadilla sing, Until the birds and zephyrs Shall join the chorusing, Until the highest angels Commissioned of the skies To bless the earth with music Enhance the harmonies Of river, bird and zephyr That celebrate the worth Whose lustre from Otsego Illuminates the earth ! 'THE PAPER." 13 E it the ponderous city print Depicting urban ways, With columns crowded with details Of enterprise and frays ; Or, less pretentious, less disturbed, The country weekly calm, Delighting well the villagers With sentences like balm — Tt hath important mission, fraught With all that blesses earth, And often maps the surest road To usefulness and worth. It hath the ward of interests High, ever-during, great ; Minute as little hamlets are, And wide as is the state. 7 6 THE ALLOPATHS The writer at his paragraphs, The printer working by— I pray their health and happiness May never come to "pi;" And that the sheet they print may live For many years to come, Prepaid, respected, and the light Of rail-car, 'change and home. THE ALLOPATHS. T WISH that all the allopaths Had all their sins forgiven And were translated from the earth To some far distant heaven ! And all their books of medicine, And all the drugs they mix Were ferried far and finally Beyond the river Styx ! SOME CRITICS 7 7 May light be given with coming years And mild "botanies" rule Till his'ory alone shall tell About another school ! SOME CRITICS. 'THE wicked wish some critics have, And knack and greed, to kill, They think high evidence of taste And proof of master skill. To them all writers are at fault The finest paintings stuff. And singers at their best too cheap To honor with rebuff ! Vet may not pen, and brush, and harp Still claim attention where These critics should, of course, receive By f-ir the greatest share ! 78 SOME CRITICS For were there none to paint or sing, Or write in verse or prose, What such as they would find to do Is more than mortal knows. They might ascend the upper spheres, To criticise the stars And teach good manners and good sense To Jupiter and Mars, Then clip away old Saturn's rings And set him bounds to run, Or venture near the solar fires To regulate the sun ! And should they reach the better land, They would not blush to tell The angels how to tune their harps To sing hosannas well ; Nor for their colors to rebuke The alchemists of heaven, Nor fail to painters there to say How poorly they had striven SOME CRITICS 79 In limning landscapes that entranced Apollo and his host, While heavenly choirs from hymning turned, To wonder and to boast ! These critics would condemn the style In which the saints are dressed, Insist on changes to improve The mansions of the blest, Ani, raw recruits from earth, presume To dictate, there, on high, The way archangels ought to wheel The armies of the sky, And think themselves empowered to lead The squadrons sent afar To subjugate rebellious worlds Or win a wayward star ! With coolness they descant upon The highest works of man, And were creation built anew On a sublimer plan, So SOME CRITICS They yet would think the universe, Was theirs to criticise, And would not fail to carp against The reconstructed skies !