'^^y .^^-^ -n ^1 Q Class ^^a s^ Book .12. Copyright )J°. COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER From Day to Day With Whittier SELECTED AND ARRANGED BY OLIVE VAN BUREN NEW YORK BAESE & HOPKINS PUBLISHERS .V3 Copyright^ 1910, BY BARSE & HOPKINS ©CLA268424 From Day to Day with Whittier JANUARY January First Rich gift of God ! A year of time ! The Last Walk in Autumn, O, why and whither ? — God knows all ; I only know that He is good, And that whatever may befall Or here or there, must be the best that could. The Shadow and the Light, Suffice it, that we know What needs must ripen from the seed we sow ; That present time is but the mould wherein We cast the shapes of holiness and sin. The Panorama, January Second No perfect whole can our nature make ; Here or there the circle will break ; The orb of Hf e as it takes the light On one side leaves the other in night. The Preacher, [7] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER i<^ x|»c >$». x^x x^ x^ >^ >^ yi^ >^ x^ y^ >^ >»^ i^ >$«i i^ j^ January Third O Thou who movest on the deep Of spirits, wake my own from sleep ! Its darkness melt, its coldness warm, The lost restore, the ill transform, That flower and fruit henceforth may be Its grateful ofi'ering, worthy Thee. Invocation, ETANtjAET Fourth I would the gift I offer here Might graces from thy favor take^ And, seen through Friendship's atmosphere, On softened lines and coloring, wear The unaccustomed line of beauty for thy sake. Dedication. January Fifth I tread where the Twelve in their way-faring trod; I stand where they stood with the Chosen of God— Where His blessing was heard and His lessons were taught. Where the bhnd were restored and the healing was wrought. Palestine, [8] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^y^y^'j^y^ >iv >iv y^v v^y v^^ yjv vi<>^ >5f< >i»c>?«c>^ >;< January Sixth Who, looking backward from his manhood's prime, Sees not the specter of his misspent time? And, through the shade Of funeral cypress planted thick behind, Hears no reproachful whisper on the wind From his loved dead. The Reward, January Seventh The waters of my native stream Are glancing in the sun's warm beam: From sail-urged keel and flashing oar The circles widen to its shore; And cultured field and peopled town Slope to its willowed margin down. The Norsemen^ •January Eighth Blest land of Judea ! thrice hallowed of song Where the holiest of memories pilgrim-Hke throng ; In the shade of thy pahns, by the shores of thy sea, On the hills of thy beauty, my heart is with thee. Palestine, [9] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER Janttary Ninth Nothing fails of its end. Out of sight sinks the stone. In the deep sea of time, but the circles sweep on, Till the low-rippled murmurs along the shore run. And the dark and dead waters leap glad in the sun. The Quaker Alumm, January Tenth Thou wilt not chide my turning To con, at times, an idle rhyme, To pluck a flower from childhood's clime. Or listen, at Life's noonday chime, For the sweet bells of Morning ! To My Sister. January Eleventh In God's own might We gird us for the coming fight ; And, strong in Him whose cause is ours In conflict with unholy powers. We grasp the weapons He has given, — The Light, the Truth, and Love of Heaven. The Moral Warfare. [10] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER >^x xjx xjx x^ y^ 71^ x^v x|x /^ /|y >|x vjv y^v v^v Vjy >;< >?<>l< January Twelfth To be, indeed, whate'er the soul In dreams hath thirsted for so long — A portion of Heaven's glorious whole Of loveliness and song? Hymns, Januaey Thirteenth SVith us was one, who, calm and true, Life's highest purpose understood. And like his blessed Master knew The joy of doing good. Channing, 3'anuary Fourteenth A broken reed, a faded flower, that lingereth behind, To mourn above its fallen race, and wrestle with the wind ! Lo! from the Spirit-land I hear the voices of the blest ; The holy faces of the loved are leaning from the West. The mighty and the beautiful — the peerless ones of old— They call me to their pleasant sky and to their thrones of gold. The Last Norridgewock, I n I FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER January Fifteenth Above, below, in sky and sod, In leaf and spar, in star and man, Well might the wise Athenian scan The geometric signs of God, The measured order of his plan. The Over-heart, January Sixteenth I love thee with a brother's love, ^ I feel my pulses thrill, To mark thy spirit soar above The cloud of human ill. To W. L. G. January Seventeenth Whoso shrinks or falters now. Whoso to the yoke would bow, Brand the craven on his brow! Texas. January Eighteenth For he whom Jesus loved hath truly spoken : The holier worship which he deigns to bless Restores the lost, and binds the spirit broken. And feeds the widow and the fatherless ! Worship. [lai FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^ y^ y^x y^v y^ v^v vjv >^ >?< y|v vi< >!< >?< v?< y^ /^ >^ x^x January Nineteenth Lo ! in the midst, with the same look he wore, Healing and blessing on Genesaret's shore. Folding together, with the all-tender might Of his great love, the dark hands and the white, Stands the Consoler, soothing every pain. Making all burdens light and breaking every chain. On a Prayer Booh. January Twentieth Not a vain and cold ideal. Not a poet's dream alone, (But a presence warm and real. Seen and felt and known. To--, January Twenty-first; The Beauty which old Greece or Rome Simg, painted, wrought, lies close at home^ We need but eye and ear In all our daily walks to trace The outHne of incarnate grace. The hymns of gods to hear! Lines To — --, [IS], FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^y^ 7?ir>??^??< y^ y^ ypi. vjv x^ y^ xix x^x x^v X4^ x+x x|x>?«: January Twenty-sejcond Amidst a blinded world he saw The oneness of the Dual law ; That Heaven's sweet peace on Earth began, And God was loved through love of man. The Chapel of the Hermits. January Twenty-third Know'st thou not all germs of evil In thy heart await their time? Not thyself, but God's restraining, Stays their growth of crime. What the Voice Said, January Twenty-fourth Patience, with her cup o'errun, With her weary thread outspun, Murmurs that her work is done. Texas, January Twenty-fifth Through heat and cold, and shower and sun, Still onward cheerly driving ! There's life alone in duty done, And rest alone in striving. The Drovers, [14] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER x^x xjx x^ >^ X4X xjx X4X y|< >^ xjx xjx x^ V^ >|< >?«t>|<>|<>|< January Twenty-sixth No! the old paths we'll keep until better ones are shown, Credit good where we find it, abroad or our own ; And while "Lo here !" and "Lo there !" the mul- titude call. Be true to ourselves, and do justice to all. The Quaker Alumni. January Twenty-seventh And all we shrink from now may seem No new revealing ; Familiar as our childhood's stream Or pleasant memory of a dream. The loved and cherished past upon the new life stealing. Hampton Beach, January Twenty-eighth I love the old melodious lays Which softly melt the ages through, The songs of Spenser's golden days, Arcadian Sydney's silvery phrase, Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morn- ing dew. Proem, [16] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER January Twenty-ninth Then of what is to be, and of what is done, Why queriest thou? — The past and the time to be are one, And both are Now ! My Sold and /. January Thirtieth Take heart ! The promised hour draws near, — I hear the downward beat of wings, And Freedom's trumpet sounding clear: "Joy to the people! — woe and fear To the new-world tyrants, old-world kings !" Lines, January Thirty-first Father! to Thy suffering poor Strength and grace and faith impart. And with Thy own love restore Comfort to the broken heart ! The Familisfs Hyrrm^ [16] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIEF FEBRUARY; February First ffhoughts of my soul, how swift ye go ! Swift as the eagle's glance of fire, Or arrows from the archer's bow, To the far aim of your desire ! Thought after thought, ye thronging rise, Like spring-doves from the startled wood, Bearing like them your sacrifice Of music unto God ! Hymns. February Second Oh ! thou who moumest on the way, With longings for the close of day ; He walks with thee, that Angel kind. And gently whispers, "Be resigned: — Bear up. Bear on, the end shall tell The dear Lord ordereth all things well !" The Angel of Patience, [17] FROM BAY TO BAY WITH WHITTIER February Third His few brief words were such as move The human heart — the Faith-sown seeds Which ripen in the soil of love To high heroic deeds. Channmg, February Fourth Easier to smite with Peter's sword, Than "watch one hour" in humbling prayer Life's "great things," like the Syrian lord Our hearts can do and dare. The Cypress Tree of Ceylon, February Fifth Thank God ! that I have lived to see the time When the great truth begins at last to find An utterance from the deep heart of mankind, Earnest and clear, that all Revenge is Crime ! That man is holier than a creed, — that all Restraint upon him must consult his good, Hope's sunshine linger on his prison wall. And Love look in upon his solitude. Lmes^ [18] 3PR0M DAY TO DAY WITH WHlTTIER >iv yp!.'/fKy^>^'/^'M^ /|v xjy y|x v^ >|< >?< vi< y^ >|< >|< >|< February Sixth ofod's ways seem dark, but, soon or late, They touch the shining hills of day ; The evil cannot brook delay, The good can well afford to wait. Give ermined knaves their hour of crime ; Ye have the future grand and great. The safe appeal of Truth to Time ! Lines. February Seventh When, inspired with rapture high, It would seem a single sigh Could a world of love create — < That my life could know no date. And my eager thoughts could fill Heaven and Earth, o'erflowing still ! Hymns, February Eighth If we have whispered truth. Whisper no longer ; Speak as the tempest does, Sterner and stronger ; Still be the tones of truth Louder and firmer. Song of the Free, [19] iFROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER February Ninth iWhat, my soul, was thy errand here? Was it mirth or ease, Or heaping up dust from year to year? "Nay, none of these !" j Ml/ Soul and I, February Tenth u Nay, though the heart (Be consecrated to the holiest work iVouchsaf ed to mortal effort, there will be Ties of the earth around it, and, through all Its perilous devotion, it must keep Its own humanity. And it is well. Else why wept He, who with our nature veil'd The spirit of a God, o'er lost Jerusalem, And the cold grave of Lazarus ? And why In the dim garden rose His earnest prayer. That from His lips the cup of suffering Might pass, if it were possible? The Missionary/, February Eleventh Up, my comrades ! up and doing ! Manhood's rugged play Still renewing, bravely hewing Through the world our way. The Lumbermen, [20] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIEK x|K /nt\ xjx x|x xjx xjx x^ >^x x^x >^ ^v y^v /^v yjv >^y y|< >^y >|R February Twelfth We are weak, but Thou art strong; Short our lives, but Thine is long ; We are blind, but Thou hast eyes ; We are fools, but Thou art wise! Thou, our morrow's pathway knowing Through the strange world round us growing, Hear us, tell us where we are going. Song of Slaves in th€ Desert, February Thirteenth Happy he whose inward ear Angel comfortings can hear, O'er the rabble's laughter ; And, while Hatred's fagots burn. Glimpses through the smoke discern Of the good hereafter. Barclay of Ury. February Fourteenth Look from the sky, Like God's great eye, Thou solemn moon, with searching beam; Till in the sight Of thy pure light Our mean self-seekings meaner seem. The Eve of Electioiu 1 31 ] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER >!< >|< >|< ypK y|y y^y y^ vjv 7^7?k >|^ ;?|^>?ir7|K: ^^sry^xy^xxix February Fifteenth I have FRIENDS in Spirit Land, — Not shadows in a shadowy band, Not others , but themselves are they. And still I think of them the same As when the Master's summons came ; Their change, — the holy morn-light breaking Upon the dream-worn sleeper, waking, — • A change from twilight into day. To Lucy Hooper. February Sixteenth But, by all thy nature's weakness, Hidden faults and follies known, Be thou, in rebuking evil, Conscious of thine own. What the Voice Said, February Seventeenth Oh, be Thine arm, as it hath been, In every test of heart and faith — The Tempter's doubt — the wiles of men — The heathen's scoff — the bosom sin — A helper and a stay beneath, A strength in weakness 'mid the strife And anguish of my wasting life^ — My solace and my hope in death! An Evening in BurmaTi^ [22] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^j^y^y^j^y^ >?< >^ y^ y^ y^ v^v y^v y^ y^ y^ y^ v^i. February Eighteenth Let foplings sneer, let fools deride, — Ye heed no idle scorner ; Free hands and hearts are still your pride. And duty done, your honor. Ye dare to trust, for honest fame, The jury Time empanels, And leave to truth each noble name Which glorifies your annals. The Shoemakers, February Nineteenth The truths ye urge are borne abroad By every wind and every tide; The voice of Nature and of God Speaks out upon your side. To the Reformers of England, February Twentieth Time is hastening on, and we What our fathers are shall be, — Shadow-shapes of memory! Joined to that vast multitude Where the great are but the good. And the mind of strength shall prove Weaker than the heart of love. The Schoolmaster. I ^^ 1 FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER Febeuaey Twenty-fiest Dh, rank is good, and gold is fair, And high and low mate ill ; But love has never known a law Beyond its own sweet will ! Amy Wentworth. Febeuaey Twenty-second How sweetly on the wood-girt town The mellow light of sunset shone ! Pentucket, Febeuaey Twenty-thied *^'Bear up, O Mother Nature!" cry Bird, breeze, and streamlet free; ^*Our winter voices prophesy Of summer days to thee !" A Dream of Summer, Febeuaey Twenty-foueth I have not seen, I may not see, My hopes for man take form in fact, But God will give the victory In due time ; in that faith I act. And he who sees the future sure, The baffling present may endure. And bless, meanwhile, the unseen Hand that leads The heart's desires beyond the halting step of deeds. j.^ j^a** Walk in Autumn. [24] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER yfiryf?v >l< >;< >5P< yj^ February Twenty-fifth What hast thou wrought for Right and Truth, For God and Man, From the golden hours of bright-eyed youth To life's mid span? Mt/ Soul and I. February Twenty-sixth Not untrue that tale of old ! Now, as then, the wise and bold All the powers of Nature hold Sub j ect to their kingly will ; From the wandering crowds ashore, Treading life's wild waters o'er, As upon a marble floor. Moves the strong man still. The Bridal of PennacooJc. February Twenty-seventh What matters it ! — a few years more, Life's surge so restless heretofore Shall break upon the unknown shore ! In that far land shall disappear The shadows which we follow here, — The mist-wreaths of our atmosphere! Lines, [26] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER Vjv y|y Hv y^ yj^y^ y^ y^ y^ ypi. y^ y^K y^ y^ -/;<. y^ y^ y^ February Twenty-eighth All which is real now remaineth, And f adeth never : The hand which upholds it now, sustaineth The soul forever. My Soul and L February Twenty-ninth Even so, Father ! Let thy will be done, Turn and overturn, end what thou hast begun In judgment or in mercy ; as for me. If but the least and frailest, let me be Ever more numbered with the truly free Who find thy service perfect liberty ! What of the Day. [26] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER >iy y(K xjy y^ >jy y^x >^y^y^ /jv/Vx >|y v^ y^y y^y >i«c>|<>|< MARCH March First — Spring, with her change of sun and shower, And streams released from winter's chain, And bursting bud, and opening flower, And greenly-growing grain. The New Year. March Second All-moving spirit ! — freely forth At Thy command the strong wind goes : Its errand to the passive earth. Nor art can stay, nor strength oppose, Until it folds its weary wing Once within the hand divine; So, weary from its wandering, My spirit turns to Thine! Hymns, March Third The earth hath felt the breath of spring Though yet on her dehverer's wing The Hngering frosts of winter cling. The Fmieral Tree of the SokoJcis. [27] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER Maech Fourth God mend his heart who cannot feel The impulses of a holy zeal, And sees not, with his sordid eyes, The beauty of self-sacrifice! Though in the sacred place he stands, Uplifting consecrated hands. Unworthy are his hps to tell Of Jesus' martyr-miracle. Or name aright that dread embrace Of suffering for a fallen race ! Derne. March Fifth The sunlight glitters keen and bright. Where, miles away, Lies stretching to my dazzled sight A luminous belt, a misty light, Beyond the dark pine bluffs and wastes of sandy gray. Hampton Beach, March Sixth Unto Truth and Freedom giving All thy early powers. Be thy virtues with the living, And thy spirit ours. Lines, [28] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER ^x ^r^x jnfK x+x X4X x^ x^ x|x /jv ^v >|y y(< y^ >?»J >|< y(<>?n y^ Maech Seventh All lovely things by thee beloved, Shall whisper to our hearts of thee: These green hills, where thy childhood roved ! Yon winding river to the sea. Lucy Hooper. Maech Eighth Dread Ruler of the tempest ! Thou before Whose presence boweth the uprisen storm — To whom the waves do homage round the shore Of many an island empire ! — if the form Of the frail dust beneath Thine eye may claim Thy infinite regard — oh, breathe upon The storm and darkness of man's soul the same Quiet, and peace, and humbleness which came O'er the roused waters, where Thy voice had gone A minister of power — to conquer in Thy name ! Christ in the Tempest, Maech Ninth Below, the maple masses sleep Where shore with water blends, While midway on the tranquil deep The evening light descends. The Lake-Side, [29] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER Maech Tenth His will be done, Who seeth not as man, whose way- Is not as ours ! — 'Tis well with thee ! Nor anxious doubt nor dark dismay Disquieted thy closing day. But, evermore, thy soul could say, "My Father careth still for me !" Daniel Wheeler, March Eleventh Ha ! like a kind hand on my brow Comes this fresh breeze, Cooling its dull and feverish glow, While through my being seems to flow The breath of new life — the healing of the seas ! Hampton Beach, March Twelfth God is good and God is light, In this faith I rest secure ; Evil can but serve the right. Over all shall love endure. Calef in Boston, March Thirteenth But a soul-sufficing answer Hath no outward origin ; More than nature's many voices May be heard within. To — . [30] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER x^ Xjx X|X Xfv x^ >^ >|K >^ >jy yjy /^ ^v VjV J4y >|< 3|<>y« March Fourteenth Token of friendship true and tried From one whose fiery heart of youth With mine has beaten, side by side, For Liberty and Truth; With honest pride the gift I take, And prize it for the giver's sake. The Relic. March Fifteenth And Nature's God, to whom alone The secret of the heart is known, — The hidden language traced thereon; Who from its many cumberings Of form and creed, and outward things, To light the naked spirit brings ; Not with our partial eye shall scan, Not with our pride and scorn shall ban, The spirit of our brother man ! The Funeral Tree of the Sokokis, March Sixteenth The words which thou hast uttered Are of that soul a part. And the good seed thou hast scattered Is springing from the heart. To Charles B. Storn, [31] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER >?< >?^ >i< >?<>?<>;<>?<>?<>?<>?< y|< >?<>?<>?< >^ vi^ y^ >*< Maech Seventeenth In sweet accordancy of praise and love, The singing waters run ; And sunset mountains wear in light above The smile of duty done ; Sure stands the promise, — ever to the meek A heritage is given ; Nor lose they Earth who, single-hearted, seek The righteousness of Heaven ! The Christian Tourists. March Eighteenth The snow-plumed Angel of the North Has dropped his icy spear ; Again the mossy earth looks forth, Again the streams gush clear. A Dream of Summer, Maech Nineteenth Follow the reverent steps, the great example Of Him whose holy work was "doing good" ; So shall the wide earth seem our Father's temple, Each loving life a psalm of gratitude. Worship, March Twentieth My spirit bows in gratitude Before the Giver of all good. The Norsemen, [32] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER j^ j^ V^ Vjv /^y^y^ x|x x^^\ x^x x^x xjx x^x xjx y^x x|x >^ ;^ Maech Twenty-fiest Know well, my soul, God's hand controls Whate'er thou f earest ; Round Him in calmest music rolls Whate'er thou hearest. What to thee is shadow, to Him is day, And the end He knoweth ; And not on a bhnd and aimless way The spirit goeth. My Sold and L Maech Twenty-second For thou wast one in whom the light Of Heaven's own love was kindled well. The Female Martyr. Maech Twenty-thied The simple faith remains, that He Will do, whatever that may be, The best alike for man and tree. What mosses over one shall grow, What light and hf e the other know, Unanxious, leaving Him to show. Swmmer by the Lakeside^ [33] FROM BAY TO BAY WITH WHITTIER >l< >^ >?< >?<>;<>?< >l< >l< >^ >^ y^y >l^ >jv >|< >^ vi< >?< >$^ March Twenty-fourth Fresh grasses fringe the meadow-brooks, And mildly from its sunny nooks The blue eye of the violet looks. Funeral Tree of the Sohokis, March Twenty-fifth Thus he, — to whom, in the painful stress Of zeal on fire from its own excess, Heaven seemed so vast and earth so small That man was nothing, since God was all, — Forgot, as the best at times have done, That the love of the Lord and of man are one. The Preacher. March Twenty-sixth Was not my spirit born to shine Where yonder stars and suns are glowing? To breathe with them the light divine From God's own holy altar flowing ? To be, indeed, whate'er the soul In dreams hath thirsted for so long, — A portion of Heaven's glorious whole Of loveliness and song? Hymns. March Twenty-seventh Press bravely onward! — not in vain Your generous trust in human kind ; The good which bloodshed could not gain Your peaceful zeal shall find. To the Reformers of England, [34] l^^ROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER x^x xjx X4X >4x xjx^VK >|x /jy /jx xjy xjx >|V Vjv y|V >|< v^o;^ >^ March Twenty-eighth Thou, O Most Compassionate! Who didst stoop to our estate, Drinking of the cup we drain, Treading in our path of pain, — Through the doubt and mystery. Grant to us thy steps to see, And the grace to draw from thence Larger hope and confidence. My Dream, March Twenty-ninth I have no answer for myself or thee. Save that I learned beside my mother's knee : "All is of God that is, and is to be ; And God is good." Let this suffice us still. Resting in childlike trust upon his will Who moves to his great ends unthwarted by the ill. Trust. March Thirtieth Along the sky, in wavy hues. O'er isle and reach and bay. Green-belted with eternal pines, The mountains stretch away. The Lake-Side, [35] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER March Thirty-first O God most merciful ! Father just and kind ! Whom man hath bound let thy right hand un- bind. Or, if thy purposes of good behind Their ills lie hidden, let the sufferers find Strong consolation ; leave them not to doubt Thy providential care, nor yet without The hope which all thy attributes inspire, That not in vain the martyr's robe of fire Is worn, nor the sad prisoner's fretting chain ; Since all who suffer for thy truth send forth, Electrical, with every throb of pain, Unquenchable sparks, thy own baptismal rain Of fire and spirit over all the earth. The Prisoners of Naples, [36] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER APRIL April First For ages on our river borders, These tassels in their tawny bloom, And willowy studs of downy silver, Have prophesied of Spring to come. First Flowers, April Second Let our faith, which in darkness and coldness has lain. Revive with the warmth and the brightness again. And in blooming of flower and budding of tree The symbols and types of our destiny see ; The life of the spring-time, the life of the whole, And, as sun to the sleeping earth, love to the soul! April. [37] X FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER April Third A laugh which in the woodland rang Bemocking April's gladdest bird — A light and graceful form which sprang To meet him when his step was heard — E^^es by his lodge-fire flashing dark, j Small fingers stringing bead and shell Or weaving mats of bright-hued bark, — With these the household god had graced his Tvigwam well. The Bridal of Pennacook, April Fourth I am groping for the keys Of the heavenly harmonies ; Still within my heart I bear Love for all things good and fair. Andrew RyJcmari's Prayer, April Fifth The clouds, which rise with thunder, slake Our thirsty souls with rain; The blow most dreaded falls to break From off our limbs a chain ; And wrongs of man to man but make The love of God more plain. AlVs Well, [38] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER "^ix xjx X4X x^x y^ x|x y^ yi^^ w^ xjv y^v y^ >|>^ xj k x|v v jv y^ >|>c April Sixth Though oft, Hke letters traced on sand, My weak resolves have passed away, In mercy lend Thy helping hand Unto my prayer to-day ! The Wish of To-day. April Seventh The Night is mother of the Day, The Winter of the Spring, And ever upon old Decay The greenest mosses cling. Behind the cloud the starlight lurks. Through showers the sunbeams fall ; For God, who loveth all his works, Has left his Hope with all! A Dream of Summer. April Eighth The flesh may fail, the heart may faint. But who are we to make complaint, Or dare to plead, in times like these. The weakness of our love of ease? Thy will be done! Thy Will Be Done. [39] FROM BAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER Apeil Ninth So, when thoughts of evildoers Waken scorn or hatred move, Shall a mournful fellow feeling Temper all with love. What the Voice Said, Apeil Tenth [Enough that blessings undeserved Have marked my erring track ; — That wheresoe'er my feet have swerved^ His chastening turned me back ;— That more and more a Providence Of love is understood, Making the springs of time and sense Sweet with eternal good ; — That death seems but a covered way Which opens into light. Wherein no blinded child can stray Beyond the lather's sight. My Psalm. Apeil Eleventh Oh, Seer-seen Angel ! waiting now With weary feet on sea and shore, Impatient for the last dread vow That time shall be no more ! The New Year, [40] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER April Twelfth Life is brief, duty grave ; but, with rainf olded wings, Of yesterday's sunshine the grateful heart sings ; And we, of all others, have reason to pay The tribute of thanks, and rejoice on our way. The Quaker Alumni, April Thirteenth My spirit bows in gratitude Before the Giver of all good. Who fashioned so the human mind. That, from the waste of Time behind A simple stone, or mound of earth. Can summon the departed forth ; Quicken the Past to life again, — • The Present lose in what hath been. And in their primal freshness show The buried forms of long ago. As if a portion of that Thought By which the Eternal will is wrought, Whose impulse fills anew with breath The frozen solitude of Death, To mortal mind were sometimes lent. The Norsemen. [41] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER April Fourteenth Is not Nature's worship thus Ceaseless ever, going on? Hath it not voice for us In the thunder, or the tone Of the leaf -harp faint and small? Mogg Megone, April Fifteenth Not for me the crowns of gold, Palms, and harpings manifold ; Not for erring eye and feet Jasper wall and golden street. What thou wilt, O Father, give ! All is gain that I receive. Andrew Rykmari's Prayer, April Sixteenth Noiseless as dew-fall, heed it well — Thy Father's call of love ! The Call of the Christian. April Seventeenth Not the less shall stern-eyed Duty To thy lips her trumpet set. But with harsher blasts shall mingle Wailings of regret. What the Voice Said. [42] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER v^j^y^y^T^ >|v >|v >|vv|*k v|y y|v y^x x^x >^ >|«c >$< >j< >ji? ApRiii Eighteenth When the breaking day is flushing All the East, and light is gushing Upward through the horizon's haze, Sheaf -like, with its thousand rays Spreading, until all above Overflows with joy and love. And below, on earth's green bosom, All is changed to light and blossom. Hymns, April Nineteenth Well may the temple-shrine grow dim, And shadows veil the Cherubim, When He, the chosen one of Heaven, A sacrifice for guilt is given ! The Crucifixion, April Twentieth Once more, through God's great love, with you I share A morn of resurrection sweet and fair As that which saw, of old, in Palestine, Immortal Love uprising in fresh bloom From the dark night and winter of the tomb ! Picturres, [43] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^yfK'M^y^y^y^y^ yp< y^ vjv vjv y^v y^y^j^y^y^y^ April Twenty-first But as for me, O God ! for me, The lowly creature of Thy will, Lingering and sad, I sigh to Thee, An earth-bound pilgrim still ! Hymns, April Twenty-second Alas ! — the evil which we fain would shun We do, and leave the wished-for good undone: Our strength to-day Is but to-morrow's weakness, prone to fall ; Poor, blind, unprofitable servants all Are we alway. The Reward, April Twenty-third The cross, if rightly borne, shall be No burden, but support to thee. The Cross. April Twenty-fourth The calm brow through the parted hair, The gentle lips which knew no guile, Softening the blue eye's thoughtful care With the bland beauty of thy smile. To Pollen. [44] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER April Twenty-fifth To the God of all sure mercies let my blessing rise to-day. Cassandra Chadmick. April Twenty-sixth In the darkness as in daylight, On the water as on land, God's eye is looking on us, And beneath us is his hand. The Fishermen, April Twenty-seventh Early hath Life's mighty question Thrilled within thy heart of youth With a deep and strong beseeching : WHAT and WHERE IS TRUTH.? To—. April Twenty-eighth Blue sea of the hills ! in my spirit I hear Thy waters Genesaret, chime in my ear ; Where the Lowly and Just with the people sat down. And thy spray on the dust of his sandals was ' thrown. Palestine. [45] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER IjrjJ? >|*k xjx y(< '/^ x^ y^ xjx xv< >^**> >i^ x^x x^ >*^ >|«c ji^ >^ April Twenty-ninth O Thou, who in the garden's shade Didst wake Thy weary ones again, Who slumbered at that fearful hour, Forgetful of Thy pain; Bend o'er us now, as over them. And set our sleep-bound spirits free. Nor leave us slumbering in the watch Our souls should keep with Thee ! The Cypress-Tree of Ceylon, April Thirtieth How feels the stone the pang of birth, Which brings its sparkling prism forth? The forest tree the throb which gives The life-blood to its new-born leaves?; Do bird and blossom feel, like me, Life's many-folded mystery, • The wonder which it is to be? Questions of Life, [46] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER MAY May First While through these elm boughs wet with rain The sunset's golden walls are seen, With clover bloom and yellow grain And wood-draped hill and stream between ; I long to know if scenes Hke this Are hidden from an angel's eyes ; If earth's familiar loveliness Haunts not thy heaven's serener skies. To FoUen. May Second Well to suffer is divine ; Pass the watchword down the line, Pass the countersign : "Endure.'* Not to him who rashly dares, But to him who nobly bears, Is the victor's garland sure. Burial of Barbour. [47] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER May Third What sings the book? What oracle Is in the pine-tree's organ swell? What may the wind's low burden be? The meaning of the moaning sea? The hieroglyphics of the stars? • Or clouded sunset's crimson bars ? Questions of Life, May Fourth 'Twas an evening of beauty. The air was per- fume, The earth was all greenness, the trees were all bloom ; 'And softly the delicate viol was heard. Like the murmur of love or the notes of a bird. Cities of the Plain, May Fifth Who bears no trace of passion's evil force? Who shuns thy sting, O terrible remorse? — Who does not cast On the thronged pages of his memory's book, At times, a sad and half reluctant look, Regretful of the past? The Reward. [48] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^y^y^K >|«c>|r v|y vjv v|v v^v v^v yjv y|v >!< y^j^y^y^-^ May Sixth And well do time and place befit my mood: Beneath the arms Of this embracing wood, a good man made His home, like Abraham resting in the shade Of Mamre's lonely palms. Chalkley Hall, May Seventh All is illusion, — loss but seems ; Pleasure and pain are only dreams ; Who deems he slayeth doth not kill ; Who counts as slain is living still. Strike, nor fear thy blow is crime; Nothing dies but the cheats of time. The Preacher, May Eighth Yet where our duty's task is wrought In unison with God's great thought, The near and future blend in one. And whatsoe'er is willed, is done! And ours the grateful service whence Comes, day by day, the recompense : The hope, the trust, the purpose stayed. The fountain and the noonday shade. Seedtime and Harvest, [49] [FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER May Ninth When the Breath Divine is flowing, Zephyr-like o'er all things going, And as the touch of viewless fingers. Softly on my soul it lingers. Hymns, May Tenth Christ's love rebukes no home-love, breaks no tie of kin apart ; Better heresy in doctrine, than heresy of heart. Mary Garvin. May' Eleventh Wild and sweet the flowers are blowing By that streamlet's side, And the greener verdure showing Where its waters glide — Down the hill-slope murmuring on Over root and mossy stone. The Fountain. May Twelfth But like some tired child at even, On thy mother Nature's breast, Thou, methinks, are vainly seeking Truth, and peace, and rest. To—, [50] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^ v$*c )4v vjv y|y y^ y^ v^ V|v v^v >|V V|V ^v /jy /|v VjV ^4v x^k' May Thirteenth All souls that struggle and aspire, All hearts of prayer by Thee are lit ; And, dim or clear, Thy tongues of fire On dusky tribes and twilight centuries sit. Nor bounds nor clime nor creed Thou know'st. Wide as our need Thy favors fall ; The white wings of the Holy Ghost Stoop, seen or unseen, o'er the heads of all. The Shadow and the Light, May Fourteenth — Through the deep and dark abyss — Flowers of midnight's wilderness, Blowing with the evening's breath Sweetly in their Maker's path. Hymns, May Fifteenth We need, methinks, the prophet-hero still, Saints true of life and martyrs strong of will. To tread the land, even now, as Xavier trod The streets of Goa, barefoot, with his bell, Proclaiming freedom in the name of God. The Men of Old. [51] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER May Sixteenth There drooped thy more than mortal face, O Mother, beautiful and mild ! Enfolding in one dear embrace Thy Saviour and thy child. Raphael, May Seventeenth The fox his hillside cell forsakes, The muskrat leaves his nook, The bluebird in the meadow brakes Is singing with the brook. A Dream of Summer. May Eighteenth Poor, and weak, and robbed of all. Weary with our daily task, That Thy truth may never fall Through our weakness, Lord, we ask. The Familisfs Hymn, May Nineteenth Stand still, my soul, in the silent dark I would question thee, Alone in the shadow drear and stark With God and me ! My Soul and /• [62] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER May Twentieth Through all disguise, form, place, or name, Beneath the flaunting robes of sin, Through poverty and squalid shame, Thou lookest on the man within. On man, as man, retaining yet, Howe'er debased, and soiled, and dim. The crown upon his forehead set, — The immortal gift of God to him. Democracy, May Twenty-first That song of Love, now low and far, Ere long shall swell from star to star ! The Chapel of the Hermits. May Twenty-second Oh, welcome calm of heart and mind ! As falls yon fir-tree's loosened rind To leave a tenderer growth behind, So fall the weary years away ; A child again, my head I lay Upon the lap of this sweet day. Summer hy the Lakeside, [53] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER May Twenty-third Friend of my soul ! — as with moist eye I look up from this page of thine, Is it a dream that thou art nigh, Thy mild face gazing into mine? To FolUn, May Twenty-fourth Wisely and well said the Eastern bard: Fear is easy, but love is hard. The Preacher. May Twenty-fifth Deeper than the gilded surface Hath thy wakeful vision seen, Farther than thy narrow present Have thy journeyings been. To—. May Twenty-sixth Now, the soul alone is willing : Faint the heart and weak the knee ; And as yet no lip is thrilling With the mighty words, "Be Free !" Tarrieth long the land's Good Angel, but his advent is to be! Lmes, [54] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER May Twenty-seventh Take heart from John de Matha !— God's errands never fail ! The Mantle of St. John de Matha, May Twenty-eighth Bearer of freedom's holy light. Breaker of slavery's chain and rod, The foe of all which pains the light, Or wounds the generous ear of God ! Democracy. May Twenty-ninth Know we not our dead are looking Downward with a sad surprise. All our strife of words rebuking With their mild and loving eyes? Shall we grieve the holy angels? Shall we cloud their blessed skies? Let us draw their mantles o'er us Which have fallen in our way ; Let us do the work before us. Cheerily, bravely, while we may, Ere the long night-silence cometh, and with us it is not day ! Lmeg, [55] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER May Thirtieth Give our tears to the dead! For humanity's claim From its silence and darkness is ever the same ; The hope of that World whose existence is bliss May not stifle the tears of the mourners of this. For, oh ! if one glance the freed spirit can throw On the scene of its troubled probation below. Than the pride of the marble — the pomp of the dead — To that glance will be dearer the tears which we shed. A Lament. May Thirty-first We keep thy pleasant memory freshly green, Of love's inheritance a priceless part, Which Fancy's self, in reverent awe, is seen To paint, forgetful of the tricks of art. With pencil dipped alone in colors of the heart. In Peace, [5«] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER JUNE June First for boyhood's time of June, Crowding years in one brief moon, When all things I heard or saw. Me, their master, waited for, 1 was rich in flowers and trees, Humming-birds and honey-bees. The Barefoot Boy, June Second The garden rose may richly bloom In cultured soil and genial air To cloud the light of Fashion's room, Or droop in Beauty's midnight hair; In lonelier grace, to sun and dew The sweetbrier on the hillside shows Its single leaf and fainter hue, Untrained and wildly free, yet still a sister rose! The Bridal of PermacooTc, [67] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^y^4x x^v M^yy^r^y^y^y^ x^"^ y^ xjx /^ June Third The dark-eyed daughters of the Sun, At morn and evening hours, O'erhung their graceful shrines alone With wreaths of dewy flowers. The Album. June Fourth That presence seems before me now, A placid heaven of sweet moonrise. When, dew-hke, on the earth below Descends the quiet of the skies. To Follen, June Fifth And odors from the springing grass, The sweet birch and the sassafras, Upon the scarce felt breezes pass. Funeral Tree of the SoJcokis. June Sixth Dear Lord ! between that law and thee No choice remains ; Yet not untrue to man's decree. Though spurning its rewards, is he Who bears its pains. Stanzas for the Times, [58] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER June Seventh Then the dreary shadows scattered, like a cloud in morning's breeze, And a low deep voice within me seemed whisper- ing words like these: "Though thy earth be as the iron, and thy heaven a brazen wall. Trust still His loving kindness whose power is over all." Cassandra Southwick, June Eighth What heed I of the dusty land And noisy town? I see the mighty deep expand From its white line of glimmering sand To where the blue heaven on bluer water shuts down. Hampton Beach, June Ninth 'Twas night. The tranquil moonlight smile With which Heaven dreams of Earth, shed down Its beauty on the Indian isle — On broad, green field and white-waUed town. Toussaint VOuverture, [59] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER June Tenth We shape ourselves the joy or fear Of which the coming life is made, And fill our Future's atmosphere With sunshine or with shade. Raphael, June Eleventh So then, beach, bluff and wave, farewell ! I bear with me No token stone nor glittering shell, But long and oft shall Memory tell Of this brief thoughtful hour of musing by the Sea. Hampton Beach, June Twelfth I hear again thy low replies, I feel thy arm within my own, And timidly again uprise The fringed lids of hazel eyes. With soft brown tresses overblown. Ah! Memories of sweet summer eves, Of moonlit wave and willowy way. Of stars and flowers, and dewy leaves. And smiles and tones more dear than they ! Memories. [60] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER June Thirteenth Better than Glory's pomp will be That green and blessed spot to me, — A palm-shade in Eternity ! — Lines, June Fourteenth Alas for him who never sees The stars shine through his cypress-trees! Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play ! Who hath not learned, in hours of faith. The truth to flesh and sense unknown, — That Life is ever lord of Death, And Love can never lose its own ! Snow-hound, June Fifteenth As yonder tower outstretches to the earth The dark triangle of its shade alone When the clear day is shining on its top. So, darkness in the pathway of Man's life Is but the shadow of God's providence, By the great Sun of Wisdom cast thereon ; And what is dark below is light in Heaven. Tatden [61] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER June Sixteenth Earnest words must needs be spoken When the warm heart bleeds or burns With its scorn of wrong, or pity For the wronged, by turns. What the Voice Said, June Seventeenth Love shall tread out the baleful fire of anger, And in its ashes plant the tree of peace ! Worship. June Eighteenth The Present, the Present is all thou hast For thy sure possessing ; Like the patriarch's angel, hold it fast Till it gives its blessing. Mt/ Soul and I. June Nineteenth The slopes lay green where summer rains, The western wind blew fresh and free, And glimmering down the orchard lanes The white surf of the sea. Charming, [63] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^ >$< y^ y^ y^ y^ viv >|x a\ yix Mi\ y^x x^x x^x x^x x^x /|^ >k June Twentieth An all-pervading beauty seems to say : God's love and power are one ; and they, Who, like the thunder of a sultry day. Smite to restore — And they, who, like the gentle wind, uplift The petals of the dew-wet flowers, and drift Their perfume on the air. Alike may serve Him, each with their own gift, Making their lives a prayer ! To A. K. June Twenty-first Never be thy shadow less. Never fail thy cheerfulness; Care, that kills the cat, may plough Wrinkles in the miser's brow. Deepen envy's spiteful frown. Draw the mouths of bigots down, Plague ambition's dream, and sit Heavy on the hypocrite. Haunt the rich man's door, and ride In the gilded coach of pride, — Let the fiend pass ! — ^What can he Find to do with such as thee? To My Old Schoolmaster, [631 FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER June Twenty-second Thine to work as well as pray, Clearing thorny wrongs away ; Plucking up the weeds of sin, Letting Heaven's warm sunshine in. Li/nes. June Twenty-third Yet trouble springs not from the ground, Nor pain from chance; The Eternal order circles round, And wave and storm find mete and bound In Providence. Anniversary Poem, June Twenty-foueth These children of the meadows, born Of sunshine and of showers ! Flowers in Wi/nter, June Twenty-fifth For he who blesses most is blest ; And God and man shall own his worth Who toils to leave as his bequest An added beauty to the earth. Lines, [64] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^w^y^y^ '^y^ >?v v^v >|v yjv vjv v^ y^v y^y^y^y^y^ June Twenty-sixth Around Sebago's lonely lake There lingers not a breeze to break The mirror which its waters make. The solemn pines along its shore, The firs which hang its gray rocks o'er, Are painted on its glassy floor. The Funeral Tree of the Sohokis. June Twenty-seventh God's hand within the shadow lays The stones whereon his gates of praise Shall rise at last. Anniversary Poem, June Twenty-eighth Yet shrink not thou, whoe'er thou art, For God's great purpose set apart. Before whose far-discerning eyes. The Future as the Present lies ! Beyond a narrow-bounded age Stretches thy prophet-heritage, Through Heaven's dim spaces angel-trod, Through arches round the throne of God ! Thy audience, worlds — all Time to be The witness of the Truth in thee ! Ezekiel, [65] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER June Twenty-ninth With that deep insight which detects All great things in the small, And knows how each man's life aflpects The spiritual life of all, He walked by faith, and not by sight — • By love and not by law; The presence of the wrong or right He rather felt than saw. The Quaker of the Olden Time, June Thirtieth What if my feet may not tread where He stood, Nor my ears hear the dashing of Galilee's flood, Nor my eyes see the cross which He bowed Him to bear. Nor my knee press Gethsemane's garden of prayer. Yet, Loved of the Father, thy Spirit is near To the meek, and the lowly, and the penitent here. Palestine, [66] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^ y^ y^ >|y v|y y^y^y^y^ y|v yjv y|v v^ >^ y^ v^ 7?«r?K JULY Jui.Y First Still let the land be shaken By a summons of thine own ! By all save truth forsaken, Why, stand with that alone ! To Massachusetts. Jui.Y Second Lift again the stately emblem on the Bay State's rusted shield, Give to the Northern winds the Pine-Tree on our banner's tattered field. Sons of men who sat in council with their Bibles round the board, Answering England's royal missive with a firm, "Thus saith the Lord !" Rise again for home and freedom ! — set the bat- tle in array ! What the fathers did of old time we, their sons, must do to-day. The Pine-Tree. [67] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER July Third Glory to God for ever ! Beyond the despot's will The soul of Freedom liveth, Imperishable still. To Charles B. Storrs. July Fourth O Freedom ! if to me belong Nor mighty Milton's gift divine, Nor Marvell's wit and graceful song, Still with a love as deep and strong As theirs, I lay, like them, my best gifts on thy shrine ! Proem. July Fifth Better to stem with heart and hand The roaring tide of life, than lie, Unmindful, on its flowery strand, Of God's occasions drifting by ! Better with naked nerve to bear The needles of this goading air, Than, in the lap of sensual ease, forego The godlike power to do, the godlike aim to know. Last Walk in 'Autumn. [68] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER July Sixth Sweet airs of love and home, the hum Of household melodies, Come singing, as the robins come To sing in door-yard trees. Li/nes, 'July Seventh Why fear the night? Why shrink from Death, That phantom wan? There is nothing in Heaven, or earth beneath, Save God and man. My Soul and I, July Eighth The simple tastes, the kindly traits, The tranquil air and gentle speech, The silence of the soul that waits For more than man to teach. My Namesake. July Ninth The hills are dearest which our childish feet Have climbed the earliest ; and the streams most sweet Are ever those at which our young lips drank. The Bridal of Pennacook. [69] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER July Tenth The blessing of her quiet life Fell on us like the dew ; And good thoughts, where her footsteps pressed, Like fairy blossoms grew. Gone, July Eleventh Our weakness is the strength of sin, But love must needs be stronger far, Outreaching all, and gathering in The erring spirit and the wandering star. The Shadow and the Light, July Twelfth In the war which Truth or Freedom wages With impious fraud and the wrong of ages Hate and malice and self-love mar The notes of triumph with painful jar, And the helping angels turn aside Their sorrowing faces the shame to hide. Never on custom's oiled grooves The world to a higher level moves, But grates and grinds with friction hard On granite boulder and flinty shard. The Preacher, [70] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER x^}^/fKMi^ / jv 4x M^\ yjy xjy Vjy y|v v^ y^ w^y^y^y^ y^ July Thirteenth "To thy duty, now and ever ! Dream no more of rest or stay; Give to Freedom's great endeavor All thou art and hast to-day." Thus, above the city's murmur, said a Voice, or seems to say. Lines, July Fourteenth With Him, before whose awful power , Thy spirit bent its trembling knee, Who, in the silent, greeting flower. And forest leaf, looked out on thee. We leave thee, with a trust serene, Which Time, nor Change, nor Death can move. While with thy childlike faith we lean On Him whose dearest name is Love. To Follen, July Fifteenth For still the new transcends the old In signs and tokens manifold — Slaves rise up men ; the olive waves. With roots deep set in battle graves ! The Chapel of the Hermits, [71] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER July Sixteenth Shine, light of God ! Make broad thy scope To all who sin and suffer ; more And better than we dare to hope With Heaven's compassion make our longings poor ! The Shadow and the Light. July Seventeenth Sweet promptings unto kindest deeds Were in her very look; We read her face, as one who reads A true and holy book. Gone, July Eighteenth Life's burdens fall, its discords cease ; I lapse into glad release Of nature's own exceeding peace. Summer hy the Lakeside, July Nineteenth One hymn more, O my lyre ! Praise to the God above, Of joy and life and love, Sweeping its strings of fire ! Hymns, [7g] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^y^y^y^'j^'/\p<'A'K y^v y^v y^^ yi^\ x^ y^'x^y^Ky^ July Twentieth Dear God and Father of us all, Forgive our faith in cruel lies, — Forgive the blindness that denies ! Forgive thy creature when he takes For the all-perfect love thou art, Some grim creation of his heart. The Witch's Daughter, July Twenty-first O hearts of love ! O souls that turn Like sunflowers to the pure and blest! To you the truth is manifest : For they the mind of Christ discern Who lean hke John upon his breast ! The Over-Heart. July Twenty-second Oh, be Thine arm, as it hath been In every test of heart and faith — The Tempter's doubt — the wiles of men — The heathen's scoff — the bosom's sin — A helper and a stay beneath, A strength in weakness 'mid the strife And anguish of my wasting life — My solace and my hope in death ! The Missionary, FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^yf^ j^ y^ y^ y^ y^ 'M\^ y^ y^ y^ y^ y^ y^ y^y^ y^ >^ July Twenty-third Fling abroad thy scrolls of Freedom ! Speed them onward far and fast ! Over hill and valley speed them, like the sibyl's on the blast! To Faneuil Hall. July Twenty-foueth And now my spirit sighs for home, And longs for light whereby to see, And, like a weary child, would come, O Father, unto thee ! The Wish of To-day. July Twenty-fifth Breath of the blessed Heaven for which we pray, Blow from the eternal hills ! — make glad our earthly way! Pictures. July Twenty-sixth Not to the swift nor to the strong The battles of the right belong ; For he who strikes for Freedom wears The armor of the captive's prayers. Derne. [74] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER July Twenty-seventh I am — ^how little more I know ! Whence came I? Whither do I go? A centered self which feels and is ; A cry between the silences ; A shadow-birth of clouds at strife With sunshine on the hills of life ; A shaft from Nature's quiver cast Into the Future from the Past; Between the cradle and the shroud, A meteor's light from cloud to cloud. Questions of Life. July Twenty-eighth Well, whatever lot be mine, Long and happy days be thine, Ere thy full and honored age Dates of time its latest page ! The Schoolmaster. July Twenty-ninth O Stream of the Mountains ! if answer of thine Could rise from thy waters to question of mine, Methinks through the din of thy thronged banks a moan Of sorrow would swell for the days which have gone. The Bridal of PemimcooTc [75] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER July Thirtieth Art builds on sand ; the works of pride And human passion change and fall ; But that which shares the life of God With him surviveth all. To Wordsworth. July Thirty-first O thriftlessness of dream and guess ! O wisdom which is foolishness ! Why idly seek from outward things The answer inward silence brings; Why stretch beyond our proper sphere And age for that which lies so near? Why climb the f ar-oif hills with pain, A nearer view of heaven to gain? In lowliest depths of bosky dells The hermit Contemplation dwells. A fountain's pine-hung slope his seat, And lotus-twined his silent feet, When, piercing heaven with screened sight. He sees at noon the stars, whose light Shall glorify the coming night. Questions of Life, [76] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER AUGUST August First I draw a freer breath — I seem Like all I see — Waves in the sun — the white-winged gleam Of sea-birds in the slanting beam — And far-off sails which flit before the South wind free. Hampton Beach, August Second All as God wills, who wisely heeds To give or to withhold, And knoweth more of all my needs ' Than all my prayers have told ! My Psalm. August Third The path of life we walk to-day Is strange as that the Hebrews trod ; We need the shadowing rock, as they — We need, like them, the guides of God. The Rock in El Ghor. [77] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER yfi.y^ y^y^'j^y^y^ >l< y^ >|<>i«:v|v >|v yi^ y^ y^y^y^s: August Fourth Happy he whose inward ear Angel comfortings can hear, O'er the rabble's laughter; And, while Hatred's fagots burn, Glimpses through the smoke discern Of the g'ood hereafter. Barclay of Ury. August Fifth Faith shares the future's promise; Love's Self-offering is a triumph won ; And each good thought or action moves The dark world nearer to the sun. The Voices. August Sixth In the dark we cry like children, and no answer from on high Breaks the crystal spheres of silence, and no white wings downward fly ; But the heavenly help we pray for comes to faith, and not to sight. And our prayers themselves drive backward all the spirits of the night! The Garrison of Cape Ann, [78] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER August Seventh Prayer-strengthen'd for the trial, come to- gether. Put on the harness for the moral fight, And, with the blessing of your heavenly Father, Maintain the Right ! Lines on the PincJcney Resolution. August Eighth We journeyed on ; but earth and sky Had power to charm no more ; Still dreamed my inward-turning eye The dream of memory o'er. Ah ! human kindness, human love, — To few who seek denied, — Too late we learn to prize above The whole round world beside ! The Hill-top. August Ninth God calls our loved ones, but we lose not wholly What He hath given ; They live on earth, in thought and deed, as truly As in Heaven. To My Friendi on the Death of His Sister. [79] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER August Tenth With silence only as their benediction, God's angels come Where, in the shadow of a great affliction, The soul sits dumb! To My Friend, on the Death of His Sister. August Eleventh "The footprints of the life divine, Which marked their path, remain in thine: And that great Life, transfused in theirs, Awaits thy faith, thy love, thy prayers !" The Chapel of the Hermits, August Twelfth The tissue of the Life to be We weave with colors all our own. And in the field of Destiny We reap as we have sown. Raphael, August Thirteenth God is Love, saith the Evangel ; and our world of woe and sin Is made light and happy only when a Love is shining in. The Slaves of Martinique. [80] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^K^KW^ 'j^y^y^ -^k-t^F'^ '^ ''^ '^ '^ >4V y^. y>^-j^ypK August Fourteenth In vain I send my soul into the dark, where never burn The lamps of science, nor the natural light Of Reason's sun and stars ! I cannot learn Their great and solemn meanings, nor discern The awful secrets of the eyes which turn Evermore on us through the day and night With silent challenge and a dumb demand. Trust, August Fifteenth Search thine own heart. What paineth thee In others in thyself may be ; All dust is frail, all flesh is weak; Be thou the true man thou dost seek ! The Chapel of the Hermits, August Sixteenth YeUow and red were the apples, And the ripe pears russet-brown, And the peaches had stolen blushes From the girls who shook them down. Cobbler Keezar's Vision, [81] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER August Seventeenth The heart has needs beyond the head, And, starving in the plentitude Of strange gifts, craves its common food, — Our human nature's daily bread. To J. T. F. August Eighteenth "Why should folk be glum," said Keezar, "When Nature herself is glad, And the painted woods are laughing At the faces so sour and sad?" Cobbler Keezar's Vision, August Nineteenth Ask why the graceful grape entwines The rough oak with her arm of vines ; And why the gray rock's rugged cheek The soft lips of the mosses seek: Why, with wise instinct, Nature seems To harmonize her wide extremes, Linking the stronger with the weak. The haughty with the soft and meek ! The Bridal of Pennacook, [82] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER >^x j^ xjx yfK y^K y^'^y^y^ v^ y^y^\ Vjv 'm^ yi^ y^ '/(k y^ August Taventieth Secure on God's all-tender heart Alike rest great and small ; Why fear to lose our little part When he is pledged for all? The Old Burying- ground, August Twenty-first Praise to the place-man who can hold aloof His still unpurchased manhood, office-proof ; Who on his round of duty walks erect And leaves it only rich in self-respect. The Panorama, August Twenty-second God works in all things; all obey His first propulsion from the night. Ho ! Wake and watch ! The world is gray With morning light! The Reformer, August Twenty-third I do believe, and yet, in grief I pray for help to unbelief ; For needful strength aside to lay The daily cumberings of my way. The Chapel of the Hermits, [83] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER August Twenty-fourth Oh, Mother Earth ! upon thy lap Thy weary ones receiving, And o'er them, silent as a dream, Thy grassy mantle weaving. Fold softly in thy long embrace That heart so worn and broken, And cool its pulse of fire beneath Thy shadows old and oaken. Randolph of Roanoke, August Twenty-fifth His faith and works, like streams that inter- mingle. In the same channel ran : The crystal clearness of an eye kept single Shamed all the frauds of man. To Joseph Sturge. August Twenty-sixth Serene and mild the untried light May have its dawning; And, as in the Summer's northern light The evening and the dawn unite, The sunset hues of Time blend with the soul's new morning. Hampton Beach, [84] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER August Twenty-seventh O Thou who bidst the torrent flow. Who lendest wings unto the wind — ' Mover of all things ! Where art Thou 3 Oh, whither shall I go to find The secret of Thy resting place ?j Is there no holy wing for me. That, soaring, I may search the space Of highest Heaven for Thee? Hymn from Lamartine. August Twenty-eighth Take heart ! — the Waster builds again, — A charmed life old Goodness hath ; The tares may perish, — ^but the grain Is not for death. The Reformer, August Twenty-ninth She sings at her wheel, at that low cottage door. Which the long evening shadow is stretching before. With a music as sweet as the music which seems Breathed softly and faint in the ear of our dreams. The Ycmkee Girl, [85] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER August Thirtieth All which is real now remaineth, And f adeth never : The hand which upholds it now sustaineth The soul forever. My Soul and I. August Thirty-first Seldom upon lips of mine, Father ! rests that name of thine, — Deep within my inmost breast, In the secret place of mind, Like an awful presence shrined, Doth the dread idea rest ! Hushed and holy dwells it there — Prompter of the silent prayer. Lifting up my spirit's eye And its faint, but earnest cry. From its dark and cold abode, Unto thee, my Guide and God! Hymns, [86] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER : vjy y|v y^y y^y y^ y^ >|< >?< 5^ >^ >^ SEPTEMBER September First Here, rich with autumn gifts of countless years, The virgin soil Turned from the share he guided, and in rain And summer sunshine throve the fruits and grain Which blessed his honest toil. Chalkley Hall, September Second Our witches are no longer old And wrinkled beldames, Satan-scold, But young and gay and laughing creatures. With the heart's sunshine on their features. New England Legend. September Third We shut our eyes, the flowers bloom on ; We murmur, but the corn-ears fiU ; We choose the shadow, but the sun (That casts it shines behind us still. The Autumn Festival. [87] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER September Fourth O, why and whither? — God knows all. I only know that he is good, And that whatever may befall Or here or there, must be the best that could. Th€ Shadow and the Light, September Fifth O Painter of the fruits and flowers ! We thank thee for thy wise design Whereby these human hands of ours In Nature's garden work with thine. And thanks that from our daily need The joy of simple faith is born : .That he who smites the summer weed, May trust thee for the autumn corn. To the Agricultural Exhibition. September Sixth When the Christian sings his death-song all the listening heavens draw near. And the angels, leaning over the walls of crys- tal, hear How the notes so faint and broken swell to music in God's ear. The Swan Song of Parson Avery, [88] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER September Seventh Laughed the brook for my delight Through the day and through the night, Whispering at the garden wall, Talked with me from fall to fall; Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond, Mine the walnut slopes beyond. Mine, on bending orchard trees, Apples of Hesperides ! The Barefoot Boy, September Eighth The world sits at the feet of Christ, Unknowing, blind and unconsoled ; It yet shall touch his garment's fold, And feel the heavenly Alchemist Transform its very dust to gold. The Over-Heart. September Ninth Through this dark and stormy night Faith beholds a feeble light Up the blackness streaking ; Knowing God's own time is best, In a patient hope I rest For the full day-breaking ! Barclay of Ury, [89] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER September Tenth Beauty hath its homage still, And nature holds us still in debt ; And woman's grace and household skill, And manhood's toil, are honored yet. Autumn Festival, September Eleventh He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees where their pleasant green came forth, And the winds, which follow wherever he goes, have shaken them down to earth. The Frost Spirit. September Twelfth Where'er the wide old kitchen hearth Sends up its smoky curls. Who will not thank the kindly earth, And bless our farmer girls ! The Corn Song, September Thirteenth And if we reap as we have sown, And take the dole we deal. The law of pain is love alone. The wounding is to heal. The Old Burying- grovmd, [90] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^y^y^y^ Vjv v^v y^x x^x x|x 7?^ x^ x^ y^ y^ y^ y^ yf^y^ September Fourteenth What doth that holy Guide require? No rite of pain, nor gift of blood, But man a kindly brotherhood, Looking, where duty is desired. To him, the beautiful and good. The Over-Heart, September Fifteenth Yes, all is lovely — earth and air — As aught beneath the sky may be ; And yet my thoughts are wandering where My native rocks lie bleak and bare — A weary way beyond the sea. The yearning spirit is not here ; It hngers on a spot more dear Than India's brightest bowers to me. Afi Evening in Burmah, September Sixteenth Wake, sleeper, from thy dream of ease, The great occasion's forelock seize; And let the north-wind strong, And golden leaves of autumn, be Thy coronal of Victory And thy triumphal song. Fennsylvania, [91] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER September Seventeenth O for that hidden strength which can Nerve unto death the inner man! O for thy spirit, tried and true, And constant in the hour of trial, Prepare to suffer, or to do. In meekness and in self-denial. To the Memory of Thomas Shipley. September Eighteenth Ah me ! we doubt the shining skies, Seen through our shadows of offense, And drown with our poor childish cries The cradle-hymn of kindly Providence. The Shadow and the Light, September Nineteenth From the death of the old the new proceeds, And the Hf e of truth from the rot of creeds : On the ladder of God, which upward leads, The steps of progress are human needs. For his judgments still are a mighty deep. And the eyes of his providence never sleep ; When the night is darkest he gives the morn, When the famine is sorest, the wine and corn ! The Preacher. [92] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER September Twentieth With such a prayer, on this sweet day, As thou mayst hear and I may say, I greet thee, dearest, far away ! Benedicite, September Twenty-first To-day be every fault forgiven Of him in whom we joy! We take, with thanks, the gold of Heaven And leave the earth's alloy. Be ours his music as of spring. His sweetness as of flowers. The songs the bard himself might sing In holier ears than ours. Birthday of Burns, September Twenty-second Oh, would I were as free to rise As leaves on Autumn's whirlwind borne — The arrowy light of sunset skies. Or sound, or ray, or star of morn Which melts in heaven at twilight's close, Or aught which soars unchecked and free Through Earth and Heaven ; that I might lose Myself in finding Thee ! Hymns, ■ [93] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER >^>^'j^'/^>^ypi.y^ji^ypK y^i^x y^x x|y y^ x^x x^ y^y^ September Twenty-third Few leaves of Fancy's spring remain, But what I have I give to thee — The o'er-sunned bloom of summer's plain, And paler flowers, the latter rain Calls from the westering slope of life's autum- nal lea. Dedication. September Twenty-fourth "Henceforth my heart shall sigh no more For old time and holier shore; God's love and blessing then and there, Are now and here and everywhere." The Chapel of the Hermits, September Twenty-fifth Alas for maiden, alas for Judge, For rich repiner and household drudge! God pity them both ! and pity us all Who vainly the dreams of youth recall, For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these : "It might have been." Maud Muller. [94] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER yjfK^^y^'/l^^ y^y y^y^y^y y|v /|x /jy '/^^^ >|y y^ y^ T?«::?|r^s|^ September Twenty-sixth Dear heart ! — the legend is not vain Which hghts that holy hearth again, And calling back from care and pain, And death's funereal sadness, Draws round its old familiar blaze The clustering groups of happier days, And lends to sober manhood's gaze A glimpse of childish gladness. To My Sister. September Twenty-seventh And, soon or late, to all that sow. The time of harvest shall be given ; The flower shall bloom, the fruit shall grow, If not on earth, at last in heaven ! Lines, September Twenty-eighth Alas ! — the evil which we fain would shun We do, and leave the wished- for good undone : Our strength to-day Is but to-morrow's weakness, prone to fall ; Poor, bhnd, unprofitable servants all Are we alway. The Reward. [95] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER >?«c y|< >l^ >l«c v?v >;»c v|< >|< >?< >l< y^ y^y y^ y^ y^y >?^ >l<>l< September Twenty-ninth In the long strife with evil, which began With the first lapse of new-created man, Wisely and well has Providence assigned To each his part — some forward, some behind. The Panorama. September Thirtieth O for the death the righteous die ! An end, like autumn's day declining. On human hearts, as on the sky, With holier, tenderer beauty shining ; As to the parting soul were given The radiance of an opening Heaven ! As if that pure and blessed light From off the Eternal alter flowing. Were bathing in its upward flight The spirit to its worship going ! To the Memory of Thomas Shipley, 19Q^ FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER OCTOBER October First Knowing this, that never yet Share of Truth was vainly set In the world's wide fallow ; After hands shall sow the seed, After hands from hill and mead Reap the harvests yellow. Barclay of Ury. October Second Slow passed that vision from my view, But not the lesson which it taught ; The soft, calm shadows which it threw Still rested on my thought : The truth, that painter, bard and sage, Even in earth's cold and changeful clime, Plant for their deathless heritage The fruits and flowers of time. Raphael, [97] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER October Third For me the Ocean lifts its solemn psalm^ To me the pine woods whisper ; and for me Yon river, winding through its vales of calm, By greenest banks, with asters purple-starred And gentian bloom and golden-rod made gay, Flows down in silent gladness to the sea. Like a pure spirit to its great reward! The Prisoners of Naples, October Fourth And were this life the utmost span, The only end and aim of man, Better the toil of fields like these Than waking dream and slothful ease. Seed Time and Harvest, October Fifth Oh! watchers of the stars at night. Who breathe their fire, as we the air — Suns, thunders, stars, and rays of light. Oh! say, is He — the Eternal, there? Bend there around His awful throne The seraph's glance, the angel's knee? Or are thy inmost depths His own, O wild and mighty sea? [98] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER yifi. xifK^:^ yi(K y^ yfK xjx y^ y^v x|< x^x x^x x|x /^ y^ '/^ y^ y^ October Sixth Sweet day, sweet songs ! — The golden hours Grew brighter for that singing From brook and bird and meadow flowers A dearer welcome bringing. Burns, October Seventh And most avails the prayer of love, Which, wordless, shapes itself in deeds, And wearies Heaven for naught above Our common needs. The Hermit of Thebaid. October Eighth But hf e, though falling like our grain, Like that revives and springs again ; And, early called, how blest are they Who wait in Heaven their harvest-day. Seed Time and Harvest, October Ninth The truths ye urge are borne abroad By every wind and every tide; The voice of Nature and of God Speaks out upon your side. To the Reformers of England. [ 99 1 FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER October Tenth The meal unshared is food unblest; Thou hoard'st in vain what love should spend ; Self -ease is pain ; thy only rest Is labor for a worthy end. The Voices, OcTOBEE Eleventh O spirit of that early day, So pure and strong and true, Be with us in the narrow way Our faithful fathers knew. The Quaker of the Olden Time, Octobee Twelfth O faithful worthies ! resting far behind In your dark ages, since ye fell asleep, Much has been done for truth and human kind, — Shadows are scattered wherein ye groped blind ; Man claims his birthright, freer pulses leap Through peoples driven in your day Hke sheep ; Yet, like your own, our age's sphere of Hght, Though widening still, is waUed around by night The Men of Old, [1001 FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER October Thirteenth Why mourn the quiet ones who die Beneath affection's tender eye, Unto their household and their kin Like ripened corn-sheaves gathered in? O weeper, from that tranquil sod. That holy harvest-home of God, Turn to the quick and suffering — shed Thy tears upon the living dead ! Derne, October Fourteenth Heap high the farmer's wintry hoard ! Heap high the golden corn ! No richer gift has Autumn poured From out her lavish horn! The Corn Song, October Fifteenth The great eventful Present hides the Past, but through the din Of its loud life hints and echoes from the life behind steal in ; And the lore of home and fireside, and the legen- dary rhyme, Make the task of duty lighter which the true man owes his time. The Garrison of Cape Ann, [ 101 1 FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHlTTIER y^ y^ 5^' >|< y^'M^ ypay^ y^ v^>i«:>i< y^ >^' >|v yfKy^yfs: October Sixteenth Yet do thy work, it shall succeed In thine or in another's day ; And, if denied the victor's meed. Thou shalt not lack the toiler's pay. The Voices. October Seventeenth From cottage door and household hearth Rose songs of praise, or tones of mirth. Pentucket, October Eighteenth Like warp and woof, all destinies Are woven fast. Linked in sympathy like the keys Of an organ vast. My Soul and I. October Nineteenth The warm light of our morning skies, — The Indian Summer of the heart ! — In secret sympathies of mind, In founts of feeling which retain Their pure, fresh flow, we yet may find Our early dreams not wholly vain ! Memories, FROM DAY TO BAY WITH WHITTIER y^y^Mi\ M^x xix xjfX xvx y^ y^y^K yjv >|v:7?^ >|v >jv y^ - /^y^ October Twentieth O for the faith to read the signs aright And, from the angle of thy perfect sight, See Truth's white banner floating on before ; And the Good Cause, despite of venal friends, And base expedients, move to noble ends. What of the Day. October Twenty-first And I will trust that He who heeds The life that hides in mead and wold. Who hangs yon alder's crimson beads, And stains these mosses green and gold. Will still, as He hath done, incline His gracious care to me and mine ; Grant what we ask aright, from wrong debar, And as the earth grows dark, make brighter every star ! The Last Walk in Autumn, October Twenty-second O fearful heart and troubled brain ! Take hope and strength from this, — That Nature never hints in vain, Nor prophesies amiss. The Old Bur ymg- ground, [ 103 ] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER 'j^ y^ y^ j^ y^ y^ 'j^ y^ viv v^v y^ y^w^y^y^ y^K y^ y^ October Twenty-third Once more the liberal year laughs out O'er richer stores than gems or gold ; Once more with harvest-song and shout Is Nature's bloodless triumph told. For An Autumn Festival, October Twenty-fourth The wave is breaking on the shore, — The echo fading from the chime, — Again the shadow moveth o'er The dial-plate of time ! The New Year, October Twenty-fifth And shall the sinful heart, alone, Behold unmoved the atoning hour. When Nature trembles on her throne, And Death resigns his iron power ? O, shall the heart, — ^whose sinfulness Gave keenness to his sore distress , And added to his tears of blood, — Refuse its trembling gratitude ! The Crucifixion, i 104 ] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER October Twenty-sixth To see our Father's hand once more Reverse for us the plenteous horn Of autumn, filled and running o'er With fruit, and flower, and golden corn ! For an Autumn Festival. October Twenty-seventh Through Thy vast creative plan Looking, from the worm to man. There is pity in Thine eyes. But no hatred nor surprise. Andrew RyJcman^s Prayer, October Twenty-eighth God's love and peace be with thee, where Soe'er this soft autumnal air Lifts the dark tresses of thy hair ! Benedicite, October Twenty-ninth For still the Lord alone is God ! The pomp and power of tyrant man Are scattered at his lightest breath. Like chaff before the winnower's fan. The Legend of St. Mark, [ 105 ] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER October Thirtieth It was late in mild October, and the long autum- nal rain Had left the summer harvest-fields all green with grass again ; The first sharp frosts had fallen, leaving all the woodlands gay With the hues of summer's rainbow, or the meadow flowers of May. The Huskers. October Thirty-first God alone Beholds the end of what is sown ; Beyond our vision, weak and dim, The harvest-time is hid with him. The Cross. [106] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER NOVEMBER November First Autumn's early frost had given To the woods below Hues of beauty, such as heaven Lendeth to its bow ; And the soft breeze from the west Scarcely broke their dreamy rest. The Fountain, November Second We thank Thee, Father ! hill and plain Around us wave their fruits once more, And clustered vine, and blossomed grain, Are bending round each cottage door. And peace is here ; and hope and love Are round us as a mantle thrown, And unto Thee, supreme above. The knee of prayer is bowed alone. Lin^es, [107] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^K x|K x^ y^^yfK y^ y^ y^ yj^xjx y^x x|x y^y^y^y^ y^y^ November Third I said to Earth, so cold and gray, "An emblem of myself thou art" ; "Not so," the Earth did seem to say, "For spring shall warm my frozen heart." Autumn Thoughts. November Fourth Ah, the cloud is dark, and day by day I am moving thither : I must pass beneath it on my way — God pity me ! — Whither ? My Soul and I, November Fifth I walk, with noiseless feet, the round Of uneventful years ; Still o'er and o'er I sow the spring And reap the autumn ears. My Playmate. November Sixth Yet shall the blue-eyed gentian look Through fringed lids to heaven, And the pale aster in the brook Shall see its image given. My Psalm, [108] :from day to day with whittier November Seventh Lord, what is man, whose thought, at times, Up to thy sevenfold brightness chmbs. While still his grosser instinct clings To earth, like other creeping things ! The Chapel of the Hermits. November Eighth He comes, — ^lie comes, — ^the Frost Spirit comes ! let us meet him as we may. And turn with the light of the parlor-fire his evil power away ; And gather closer the circle round, when that fire-light dances high. And laugh at the shriek of the baffled Fiend as his sounding wing goes by ! The Frost Spirit. November Ninth Sing, O my soul, rejoicingly, on evening's twi- light calm Uplift the loud thanksgiving, — ^pour forth the grateful psalm; Let all dear hearts with me rejoice, as did the saints of old. When of the Lord's good angel the rescued Peter told. Cassandra Southwick. [109] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^ y^ yi^ y^ y^ vfK y^ -j^ 'j^ y^i^^ vjv v^v vi< >;< y^y^^y^ November Tenth Even Duty's voice is faint and low, And slumberous Conscience, waking slow, Forgets her blotted scroll to show. Summer hy the Lakeside, November Eleventh By all for which the martyrs bore their agony and shame : By all the warning words of truth with which the prophets came; By the future which awaits us ; by all the hopes which cast Their faint and trembling beams across the blackness of the Past ; And by the blessed thought of Him who for Earth's freedom died, my people ! O my brothers ! let us choose the righteous side. The Crisis, November Twelfth The west winds blow, and, singing low, I hear the glad streams nm; The windows of my soul I throw Wide open to the sun. My Psalm, [110] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^ y^ y^ wi^x j^ y^ y^ j^ '^ y^ j^{\ y^v vjv v|y y^y^y^y^ November Thirteenth But human hearts remain unchanged: the sor- row and the sin, The loves and hopes and fears of old, are to our own akin. Mary Garvin, November Fourteenth God still overrules man's schemes, and takes Craftiness in its self -set snare, and makes The wrath of man to praise Him. To the Memory of Thomas Shipley, November Fifteenth Not in vain on the dial The shade moves along, To point the great contrasts Of right and of wrong. Le Marais du Cygne, November Sixteenth And let these altars, wreathed with flowers And piled with fruits, awake again Thanksgiving for the golden hours, The early and the latter rain ! For an Autumn Festival. [Ill] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER November Seventeenth Not in clouds and in terrors, but gentle as when, In love and in meekness. He moved among men ; And the voice which breathed peace to the waves of the sea In the hush of my spirit would whisper to me. Palestine, November Eighteenth O, for God and duty stand, Heart to heart and hand to hand. Round the old graves of the land. Teivas, November Nineteenth The eyes of memory will not sleep, — Its ears are open still ; And vigils with the past they keep Against my feeble will. And still the loves and joys of old Do evermore uprise ; I see the flow of locks of Gold, The shine of loving eyes. The Knight of St, John. [112] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER ^ix x|x y|x -/^^^y^y^M^^ yjx >|V y^y v^• 7?OF-^7iFT?>r^ November Twentieth Grant what we ask aright, from wrong debar, And, as the earth grows dark, make brighter every star ! The Last Walk in Autumn, November Twenty-first Now let the merriest tales be told, And let the sweetest songs be sung That ever made the old heart young ! The Witch's Daughter, November Twenty-second In thee, let j oy with duty j oin, And strength unite with love. The eagle's pinions folding round The warm heart of the dove ! So, when in darkness sleeps the vale Where still the blind bird clings, The sunshine of the upper sky Shall glitter on thy wings ! An Eagle's Quill, [113] FROM BAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^yfiy^'Mpi. v^v V|V >^ y^x 7|^7|?"?|»r y^y^y^ x|x >^x x^x xj-K November Twenty-third A marvel seems the Universe, A miracle our Life and Death; A mystery which I cannot pierce, Around, above, beneath. The Wish of To-day. November Twenty-fourth Well I know that all things move To the spheral rhythm of love. Andrew RyJcman's Prayer, November Twenty-fifth No longer forward nor behind I look in hope or fear ; But, grateful, take the good I find, The best of now and here. My Psalm, November Twenty-sixth Gone hath the Spring, with all its flowers. And gone the Summer's pomp and show, And Autumn, in his leafless bowers. Is waiting for the Winter's snow. Autumn Thoughts, [114] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIEH y^ 'j^ j^ y^ y^ y^ yfK y^x y^x x^ y^v y|x a|x x|y >|x x^x x^ /|x November Twenty-seventh O Holy Father! — ^just and true Are all thy works and words and ways, And unto thee alone are due Thanksgiving and eternal praise ! As children of thy gracious care We veil the eye, we bend the knee, With broken words of praise and prayer, Father and God, we come to thee. Lines, November Twenty-eighth Leaning on Him, make with reverent meekness His own thy will. And with strength from Him shall thy utter weakness Life's task fulfill. My Soul and I. November Twenty-ninth To Him be the glory forever ! — ^We bear To the Lord of the Harvest our wheat with the tare. What we lack in our work may he find in our will, And winnow in mercy our good from the ill ! The Quaker Alumni, [115] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER November Thirtieth O heart of mine, keep patience ! — ^Looking forth, As from the Mount of Vision, I behold. Pure, just, and free, the Church of Christ on earth, — The martyr's dream, the golden age foretold ! And found, at last, the mystic Graal I see, Brimmed with his blessing, pass from lip to lip In sacred pledge of human fellowship ; And over all the songs of angels hear, — Songs of the love that casteth out all fear, — Songs of the Gospel of Humanity ! On a Prayer Book, [116] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER DECEMBER December First How well the conscious wood retains The pictures of its flower-sown home, — The lights and shades, the purple stains. And golden hues of bloom ! It was a happy thought to bring To the dark season's frost and rime This painted memory of spring, This dream of summer-time. Flowers in Winter. December Second In this night of death I challenge the promise of Thy word ! — Let me see the great salvation of which mine ears have heard ! — Let me pass from hence forgiven, through the grace of Christ, our Lord ! The Swan Song, [117] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER December Third The cloud went off from the pilgrim's brow, as a small and meager book, Unchased with gold or gem of cost, from his folding robe he took ! "Here, lady fair, is the pearl of price, may it prove as such to thee ! Nay — keep thy gold — I ask it not, for the word of God is free !" The Vaudois Teacher. December Fourth For Nature speaks in symbols and in signs, And through her pictures human fate divines. To C. S. December Fifth The Crisis presses on us ; face to face with us it stands. With solemn lips of question, like the Sphinx in Egypt's sands ! This day we f asliion destiny, our web of Fate we spin ; This day for all hereafter choose we holiness or sin. The Crisis. [118] , FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^y^y^y^y^yp^ypK'/^y^y^ y|y Hv ypi. y^ >?< >^ y^ y^ December Sixth In the white soul that stooped to raise The lost one from her evil ways. Thou saw'st the Christ, whom angels praise ! Trmitas, December Seventh Falsehoods which we spurn to-day Were the truths of long ago ; Let the dead boughs fall away, Fresher shall the living grow. Calef in Boston, December Eighth The suns of eighteen centuries have shone Since the Redeemer walked with man, and made The fisher's boat, the cavern's floor of stone, And mountain moss, a pillow for his head. Lines. December Ninth But warmer suns erelong shall bring To life the frozen sod ; And, through dead leaves of hope, shall spring Afresh the flowers of God ! The Maifflowers, [119] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER December Tenth Rocked on her breast, these pines and I Alike on Nature's love rely ; And equal seems to live or die. Summer hy the Lakeside. December Eleventh The day is breaking in the East of which the prophets told, And brightens up the sky of Time the Christian age of Gold; Old Might to Right is yielding, battle blade to clerkly pen. Earth's monarchs are her people, and her serfs stand up as men. The Crisis, December Twelfth Chase back the shadows, gray and old Of the dead ages, from his way. And let his hopeful eyes behold The dawn of Thy millenial day ; — That day when fettered limb and mind Shall know the truth which maketh free, And he alone who loves his kind Shall, childlike, claim the love of Thee ! Lines to a Clerical Friend, [120] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER x|x xfK y^x -/^ y^y^ >|v y^v V|y y^ y^ y^y^s^ff^y^y^y^y^ December Thirteenth Wherefore this dream of the earthly abode Of Humanity clothed in the brightness of God? Were my spirit but turned from the outward and dim, It could gaze, even now, on the presence of Him ! Palestine, December Fourteenth Shall we grow weary in our watch, And murmur at the long delay? Impatient of our Father's time And his appointed way? The Cypress Tree of Ceylon, December Fifteenth We are older : our footsteps, so light in the play Of the far-away school time, move slower to- day;— Here a beard touched with frost, there a bald, shining crown, And beneath the cap's border gray mingles with brown. The Quaker Alumni, [ 121 1 FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^y^yi^y^K v^ Vjv y^v y^v >|x >|v >^ >^x ^jx vjy vjv >|< >^ v^ December Sixteenth Oh! speed the moment on When Wrong shall cease — and Liberty, and Love, And Truth, and Right, throughout the earth be known As in their home above. Clerical Oppressors, Decembee Seventeenth O weary ones ! ^^e may not see Your helpers in their downward flight ; Nor hear the sound of silver wings Slow beating through the hush of night ! The Legend of St. Mark, December Eighteenth Yet who, thus looking' backward o'er his years, Feels not his eyelids wet with grateful tears, If he hath been Permitted, weak and sinful as he was, To cheer and aid, in some ennobhng cause, His fellow-men? The Reward, [ 1^^ ] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^Ky^y^y^ '/^ y^ y^ >!< yj^ y^ >^x y^x x^x y^ y^x y^x x^x >jx December Nineteenth The heart must bleed before it feels, The pool be troubled before it heals ; Ever by losses the right must gain, Every good have its birth of pain ; The active Virtues blush to find The Vices wearing their badge behind. And Graces and Charities feel the fire Wherein the sins of the age expire ; The fiend still rends as of old he rent The tortured body from which he went. The Preacher, December Twentieth We turn us from the light, and find Our spectral shapes before us thrown, As they who leave the sun behind Walk in the shadows of themselves alone. The Shadow and the Light. December Twenty-first "He lived the Truth which reconciled The strong man Reason, Faith the child; In him belief arid act were one, The homilies of duty done !" The Chapel of the Hermits. FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER y^ y^ j^y^ yi(K -xi^\ x^ x^ yj^yfK x^ y^ y^v ypi. y^y^y^y^ December Twenty-second Follow with reverent steps the great example Of Him whose holy work was "doing good" ; So shall the wide earth seem our Father's temple, Each loving life a psalm of gratitude. Worship, December Twenty-third Alone in that great love which gave Life to the sleeper of the grave, Resteth the power to "see and save." Lines. December Twenty-fourth We dwell with fears on either hand, Within a daily strife, And spectral problems waiting stand Before the gates of life. The doubts we vainly seek to solve. The truths we know, are one ; The known and nameless stars revolve Around the Central Sun. The Old Burying' ground, [ 124 ] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER December Twenty-fifth And He, who wandered with the peasant Jew, And broke with publicans the bread of shame, And drank, with blessings in His father's name. The water which Samaria's outcast drew, Hath now His temples upon every shore, Altar and shrine and priest, — and incense dim Evermore rising, with low prayer and hymn. From lips which press the temple's marble floor, Or kiss the gilded sign of the dread Cross He bore ! Lines, December Twenty-sixth That Shadow blends with mountain gray. It speaks, but what the light waves say, — Death walks apart from Fear to-day ! Summer hy the Lakeside, December Twenty-seventh Angel of Freedom ! soon to thee The sounding trumpet shall be given, And over Earth's full jubilee Shall deeper joy be felt in Heaven! The Pastoral Letter,! [ 125 ] PROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER December Twenty-eighth O spirit of that early day, So pure and strong and true, Be with us in the narrow way Our faithful fathers knew. Give strength the evil to forsake, The cross of Truth to bear, And love and reverent fear to make Our daily lives a prayer! The Quaker of the Olden Time, December Twenty-ninth And wilt thou prize my poor gift less For simple air and rustic dress. And sign of haste and carelessness? — Lines, December Thirtieth Oh, here with His flock the sad Wanderer came — These hills He toiled over in grief, are the same — The founts where He drank by the wayside still flow. And the same airs are blowing which breathed " on His brow ! Palestine, [ 126 ] FROM DAY TO DAY WITH WHITTIER December Thirty-first :i So, in those winters of the soul, By bitter blasts and drear O'erswept from Memory's frozen pole, Will sunny days appear. Reviving Hope and Faith, they show The soul its living powers, And how beneath the winter's snow Lie germs of summer flowers! The Night is mother of the Day, The Winter of the Spring, And ever upon old Decay The greenest mosses chng. Behind the cloud the starlight lurks, Through showers the sunbeams fall; For God, who loveth all his works, Has left his Hope with all ! A Dream of Summero [127] JUL SI IStO Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Oct. 2009 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTiONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724) 779-2111 One copy del. to Cat. Div. lUt 2! M>^ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS iiiiiilillliiiiilillliilL 015 871 925 3 W