iSviLSONi ii>- ^' J^^ii ^y^i*t^_ vJLb±: 0^ . 1 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Sholflil.3 UNITED STATES OF AMEKICA. C:^ -ft- » V •' \\^ W 'UJ:' . -t*' I^JLiT. ^ ^^ ■^t sH^ bB ^ ?^' .,'t£^v:r.,. WILLIAM COTTER WILSON. POEMS OF TWO WORLDS CONTAINING THE lylFE AND ADVENTURES OF SANTA CEAUS (An Aij^EGORv), OO-EA-ITA (A Eegend of Minne.sota), AND OTHER HISTORICAE, EEGENDARY, ALEEGORICAE, HUMOROUS, MOR AE AND SPIRITUAE POEMS BY WILLIAM COTTER WILSON ir.LUSTKATED BY ARTHUR CREIGHTON AND TKACHENOR & BARTBERGER PUniJSHED BY 20^ •• y H. X. WRIGHT Kansas City, Mo. \ \ - \ : ENTCRFD ACCORDING TO ACT OF CONGRESS IN THE YEAR IBOH, DY WILLIAM C. WILSON, IN THE OFFICE OF THE LIBRARIAN OF CONGRESS AT WASHINGTON. VmCSS OF TlF.nNAN-IlAVKNS IMtlNTINO CO., KANSAS riTY, MO. Lisr OF Illusikaiions. Portrait of Win. Cotter Wil.s c i V _ — o is c o « E « 2 X U. Disguised Acrostics. AMONG the following- poems will be found many curiosities of literature in the form of disg-uised acrostics. Being known among- my friends as an expert in acrostic writing-, most of them, if time permitted while I was visiting, would suggest my writing something for them. Thus it is that many of my poems contain the names of persons which would not be discovered, though the jioems were read for years ; hence I here append a list of acrostics with names attached. Many of these arc double acrostics, the fu'st letters of alternate lines giving the names of two persons, as, for instance, in the poem on page 57, "My Childhood's Home." In this poem will be found the names of a father and daughter, who were friends of mine. By reading downward the alternate lines, beginning at top, the proper name, Charles Rivers Brooke will be seen ; then begin at first letter of second line, read down alternately, and the name Alice Rivers Brooke will be spelled out. In this way twenty of the poems have names of persons disguised in the text. In some instances double acrostics, as in the above exiimple. In others, the name of one person only; in such instances the first letter of every line, when read downward, will give the name of the person for whom the acrostic was written. A laughable illustration of how jealousy will prompt to falsehood, will be found on page 122, entitled "An Admonition." The text of note appended to poem will explain itself. Poems of the character indicated will be found as follows: SINGI^E ACKOSTICS. SUBJECT. PAGE. Andrew Gemmill A Prayer 12 James Robertson . . Perjury . 12 Russell Hammer To a Dead Child .... 15 Jean Murray Truth Ever Wins .... 38 Mount Congreve . . . . . K, ^51""* Congreve > 5, ^ I Near Waterford, Ireland, j Henry John Edward Salmon . The Agnostic 55 Clara Anne Cares Are Weeds .... 56 Edward Holland Thornhill . Eternity 59 Mary Josephine McDuffec A Mother's Dream of Hope 82 Hattie Maria Nichols Heaven on Earth .... 87 Eouisa Sarah Jones . . The Isle of Wight .113 Edwin Griffiths An Admonition . . . 122 DISGUISED ACROSTICS. DOUBLE ACKOSTICS. Charles Rivers Brooke Alice Rivers Brooke ■ Mary Tliorne . . Felicia Shaw . Hannnh Weeks Ella Weeks. . . . Harvey Eug-ene Bartholomew Maureta Eaubach Bartholomew Correct Orthoepy Edward B. Warman, A.M.. Ed^i^ar Allen Poe . . Edward B. Warman . The Modern American Woodmc Joseph CuUen Root . Wild John Morgan Clara Aune Kenisou. Eynn Brush Baby Warren . Joseph E. McDuffee . Eunice McDuffee . Joseph Durald Havens Eouise Merriam Havens Geo. A. Schilling- . Elsie P. Stevens . . y My Childhood's Home . f The Promise of Spring^ . - Mother and Daughter y Moral Musing-s r Correct Orthoepy . y To Edgar Allen Poe . The Woodman's Welcome r The Cry of Conscience . To Two Children y Eternal Marriage . [■ Shadows — a Reverie PAGE. 57 65 66 67 69 70 71 79 83 84 86 y The Laborer's Aj^peal to God 88 PREFACE. COLERIDGE says, "Poetry lias been to me its own excecdinc; o;reat reward. It lias cjiven me the habit of wishing to discover the good and beautiful in all that meets and surrounds me." This expresses my own views and feelings so com])letely that I am glad to quote it. I have not only courted the Muse, but she has also courted me. From my earliest boyhood I was followed by an irresistible desire to express myself in verse. Many has been the time when some one who had incurred my displeas- ure, was made to feel the irony and ridicule of a couplet or verse that came to me as a weapon of defense or aggression as the exigency of the case seemed to demand. But my effusions were not all of that character. I was keenly sensitive to kindness and the loving side of my friends, and these formed better subjects for my pen than the insults, fancied or real, from my enemies. Nature, with her myriad charms in sea and sky, meadow and woodland, enraptured and fascinated me. And although something more than half a century has passed over me, I still find that the "world is full of beauty" to which I regret to say, the mass of mankind are as yet sadly blind. From time to time, I have given vent, in varied measure, to my emotions and ideality, and in some instances these have found their way into the columns of the literary journals of the day. I have frequently, I may say very frequently, been urged by friends to collect and publish in book form these numerous productions. The idea was by no means distasteful to me. But my profession, as an electrician, has made such unremitting and arduous demands upon my time that I have not found it jiossible, till within the last year, to carry out my own wish and comply with the desire of my friends. The volume is now, for the first time, given to tlie public. For its a})pearance I have no apologies to vi PREFACE. ofTcr. Ill tlio language of IJyroii, " What is writ, is Avrit; would it wore worthier." The title, " Pokmk of Two Worlds," was selected, first, because some of the productions wore written in the old world of Europe, and others in the new world of America. And next, because in accord with my belief in a future existence, I desire that my productions should not only serve a good purpose in this mundane sphere, but also point and lead to a liigher, a grander and brighter life beyond. No one, I think, can justly complain of a want of ])oetic justice or moral tendency in what is herein placed before the reader. While I have on the one hand, written for the present hour, I have on the other, kept the great future steadily in contemplation. Anioiigsl the ])oems will be found several acrostics, and though those wore written to please friends, yet it is hoped that apart from this motive they will bo found to be of sufficient merit to justify their publication. It should also be observed that there are some acrostics that are marked as suc^h, while others that are of an acrostic character are not so distinguished by their headlines. There is one poem, the subject of which, so far ns known, has never been treated of by any previous writer. I refer to "The Birth and Adventures of Santa Claus." While it is largely of an imaginative character, yet it is believed to be of that kind that will find favor not only amongst children, but also with other and maturer minds. The Indian stories, of which there ai'o two, are founded on history and tradition. In their preparation no greater license is indulged in than what is usually accorded to poetic productions. The reader will observe that I have in this volume treated on many subjects, ranging from the ridiculous to the sublime, from the grave to the gay, and it is kindly believed that their perusal will serve not only to brighten many an hour, but will also tend to create in the n'ader the habit spoken of by Coleridge "of wishing to discover tlie good and beautiful" in all that surrounds t'lHMu. \Vm. Cotter Wilson. POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Self- Enlightened Interest. WHY call this world a wilderness of woe ? Why sj)eak of bleeding hearts and silent griefs ? The toml) was never made for memory, Yet, ne'er forgetting, we should ere forgive ; Nor should the errors of our friends or foes Absorb the dews and sunlight of the skies To grow and keep afresh the wounds they made; liut rather should we inark the hand of God In all that is, for purpose wise and true. All life at best is but a mystery. And though ten million forms present themselves. And each portray their separate cares and joys. All by their acts proclaim a selfish end. Hope is the heritage of every life, U]) from the monad, in insensuous soil. To man, the proud expression of our God. The truth is God ; and man that truth reveals In all that he hath privilege to sway. Our merchants yield to kings and potentates. To them, in turn, the toiling mass succumbs — And thus the gamut of our lives is run, While self enlightened interest rules the whol(>. Eternal food, in matter men may view. Each atom, dead till force their forms unite. Then up from seeming lifeless nothingness- A thinking, moving, generating form. Perpetuates its kind et(!rnally. Herein the self-hood of insensuous things Declares the fittest oidy shall survive ; There is no death, nor can a thing be lost : POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. The microscopic wing that flits through space Between the mobile atoms of the air Bears up the cruder bulk, that pendant hangs, And in its trunk the procreative germs Mingle unseen, and yet these growths proclaim The selfish right to live, and devastate Our cherished homes, by sickness and disease. Nothing is lost, what is must ever be ; We watch the foliage of our forest trees And mark the varied tints and forms displayed, But when brown Autumn seres their changeful dress We oft in solemn tones pronounce them dead. Tlie very perfumes that regale our sense May be restored through rock, or soil, or stream. Therefore it is that Life can never die, The deathless Soul of things must ever be. To grant a God, is but to grant the Law, And Law in God can ne'er be deemed to err. What is is right, though interest demur. For God could not be God, if Law could change ; If souls were born, such souls could change and die ; Soul is unborn, and God, the Soul of things, Moves in and is a part of everything. And all we know is but a part of God. But Law is selfish and maintains its rights, It moulds and keeps in form its separate shapes In stone and plant and animated life ; One atom more or less of oxygen, The thing called water, would itself destroy. And chaos in its own small world would reign. Thus all protection points to selfishness. And self-enlightened interest the right of man. A CRITIC CRITICISED. A Critic Criticised. [Written on reading an article on "Poetry and Rhyme," by James McCarroIl an American poet.l O SHADE of Chaucer, aid my drooping pen, And poise it equal to thy magic might, For harsh McCarroU sits with journal men, And from their sanctum would the poets fright. And thou, O Spenser, while thy spirit lives. Aid me to follow in thy rhythmic path; For here I wander where the critic gives His law of numbers in unmeasured wrath. "As thick as berries on the upland moor," So says our critic, are the poets found ; Nor does he wonder that each effort's poor, While high-placed authors spread their errors round. And yet 'tis pleasing, when he reasons thus. With us poor dabblers in the measured page, Nor need we tremble at the exodus, As all must travel the allotted stage. If by his dictum men like Milton sink Down to the limbo of the tuneless bard, And Gray be censured for one shattered link In his grand epic on the sacred sward ; And our loved Byron, who with matchless skill Now rose to fury, now to pity fell. Though more than callous, yet his pages fill The cup of mercy, while his paeons swell ; Yet he the master of our English verse. Whose lines majestic stood on every tongu*, And by his powers, and in his language terse. Back to his critics all their venom flung. And though long buried, must we listen yet To one more critic of his rhythmic skill. And all his beauties, all his loves forget. And all the pictures that our fancies fill? —2 10 POIJMS OF TWO WORIvDS. Our critic renders to our Wordsworth fame, In one good quatrain shows his structure well ; But round the many piles the seething flame, And all would harrow with his rhythmic knell. Shall bards be governed by a jingling rhyme, And all the beauties of the poet's soul Be by his dictum deemed a lettered crime That must "be prisoned" round his mental pole? But Carroll's raving and his rhythmic lore, His line of music where his jingles swing. The bard of spirit o'er them both will soar, And e'en "though censured" in blank numbers sing. The Saviour Stands By. A STORM-TOSSED ship on the Southern Sea Was driven before the wind, And the billows danced in their wildest glee. While the rifted rocks they climbed. The proud ship stood like a knight at bay When faced by his foeman's steel, Then parried the waves and bounded away Till the sunbeams lit her keel. She soared like a bird on the swelling tide, And then came the deafening shock ; She had fought the fight with peerless pride, But sank on the surf -bound rock. A tattered flag from the mizzen top, A boom from the signal gun, Now bade a ship on her course to stop. And straight for the wreck to run. THE SAVIOUR STANDS BY. 11 The captain stood for the treacherous coast, But it baffled his skill to try; He did his all, it was his most, To stand for the wrecked ones by. He shoufed high o'er the billow's roar, " Quick, quick, or all is done ! I'll wait the freight of the boats you lower, But I cannot near you come." Now bearing on o'er the battling waves Were the freighted life-boats seen. While the captain's heart for each one craves New life from the dying scene. They climbed the side of the waiting ship, And safe on her deck were found; And the words, << Stand by!" from the captain's lips, Echoed their welcome sound. Now sinner know, like a ship at sea Is the life you daily lead; And the billows of sin are surrounding thee While guilt is its wi-itten creed. Though yc proudly stand with a knightly air, And laugh at his demon call. The sin-fiend seeks with a miser's care Whate'er to his lot may fall. ITe breathes on the world his upas breath. And .poisons the cloistered cell; The lisping child and the aged at death Are hushed by his venomed spell. Though cast adrift on the shores of sin. And left on the rocks to die. The Saviour's voice o'er the billow's din la echoing, "I am by!" 12 POEMS OF TWO WORIvDS. A Prayer. A Imighty God! who o'er the world's expanse N ow sits enthron'd in all thy majesty, D escend and aid me in my reverence ; R eveal to me through Nature's eloquence E arth's undiscovered mystic potencies, Which e'er as now hath ruled humanity. G ive me, O God ! to know thy wondrous will, E nough of wisdom to conceive the agencies, M atured by time, which now the world enwraps M idst all the "foibles" of philosophers. I f men dare strive against my conscious faith, L ead me from out their creed's intricacies, L est I should thoughtlessly destroy my friend. [The above acrostic was written for Andrew Gemmill, who was a foster brother of Robert Dale Owen, the founder of New Harmony and the writer of the "Foot Falls on the Boundary of Another World," and a particulai friend of the author.] Perjury. JUSTICE sits paralyzed whene'er thy venomed tongue Attempts the disclosure of any social act; Mercy is ever blind where'er thy mantle's hung — E'en Pity shrinks aback when thou relat'st a fact — So seeming good and true, outside thy treachery. Revolting, fiendish scourge, blaster of happiness, Oh, why did God allow thy entry in the world? Born of rancoring discord, dost thou thus express Envy and enmity that thou from heaven was hurled, Resenting e'er that fall from God's high sanctuary ? Thought, Reason, Peace and Love, in all their bright array, Stand silent and appalled at thy vile utterances. O'er all the moving world, where thou thy arts display, Nature shrinks back abashed, like blackened night from day. AN ODE TO MY AIvBUM. 13 An Ode to My Album. HAIL ! hallowed tome ! Thy casket leaves, all haiU Thou art to me an open sepulchre ! Within thy walls I lay my cherished friends, And gaze anon upon each absent face, Enmirrored there by photographic art. Each mute, lone face enthralls my soul, And backward through the labyrinths of time My memories glide o'er scenes of hope and care. My schoolmates first, amidst the silent band. Sweet childhood days, enrapturing thoughts inspire ! Maturer years, when love's first fires did burn, Are here recalled with all the vivid scenes Thro' which I passed, till manhood's years were reached; Here, then, began the real and earnest life. When many of the faces here portrayed In all the vigor of their manhood lived. Some early sought the ne'er returning bourne, While others left through stranger lands to roam ; But now, remaining as my constant friends, Are some whose faithful pictures here I scan. My father dead yet seems to live again, The while I look upon- his portrait now. My mother, too, upon whose knee I sat, She who, through life a beacon and a guide, Taught me to know my duties to the world. But she no more can mingle in the throng Of busy mortals in the marts of trade, And yet, I feel her spirit at my side, While I upon her silent picture gaze. Brothers and sisters, friends and kindred, too, Gather in spirit, like flocks within a fold. Dear album, thou a temple art to me. In which I worship with the living dead ! 14 POEMS OF TWO WORIyDS. Sighs and Tears. OH, how sweet's the release of a sigh, And the solace which follows a tear, When the heart with emotion beats high, If in anguish or sorrow or fear! He who painted the blush on the rose, And gave to the violet perfume, Did the stars in the heavens dispose, And created our hope through the tomb. We are but a few atoms at best, Yet God hath his attributes given. With the sigh and the tear his behest On earth to prepare us for heaven. Oh, then let not the thoughtless e'er say- That 'tis folly to weep or to sigh, But remember 'tis Nature's own way The fountains of sorrow to dry. To The Old Year. WIPE from his beard the crystal breath, the frosty air hath chill'd, And gently close the drooping lids, the scenes of life hath still'd ; Straighten the limbs and smooth the brow and kiss the pal- lid cheek, And lay him softly on the bier, for he no more can speak. 'Tis true the old man's dead to-night; he whom we knew so well. And yet it seems but yesterday, when first the sunlight fell Upon the head of him who now, in whiten'd locks lies low, And leaves behind but memories, of love and peace and woe. TO A DEAD CHIIyD. 15 To A Dead Child. AX ACROSTIC. Round our hearts, like tender vinelets trailing o'er the sturdy oak, Upward looking for protection, thine eyes a voiceless lan- guage spoke. Sunlit meteors, from their orbits, pierced the shadows of our home; Such the eyes that beamed upon us, they our sorrows would atone. Entered scarcely on the pathway that would lead thee through the world, Like a lamb from shepherd straying, we have missed thee from the fold. Light of heaven, guide thee homeward, upward through the streets of gold. Hearts and hands will still surround thee, spirit voices sing to thee. And thy friends will give thee welcome, sailing o'er the jas- per sea. Music, through the halls supernal, echoing back from heav- en's dome, Makes thy presence here among us feel a jointure in thy home. Entered on thy endless journey through the beauties of the spheres, Russell, deathless child of spirit, thou canst come and dry our tears. [The above acrostic was written for the album of Hon. Mr. Hammer, of Chicago, whose child, his only son, was, after a few hours' illness, taken from him almost without warning.] 16 POEMS OF TWO WORIvDS. Beautiful Eyes. IWALK'D through the meadows at the dawn of the day^ When the sun o'er the hill-tops beglistened the dew, While the scent of the flowers, and the odors of May, Told the story of Springtime in language anew. I watched every droplet on the tall nodding grass. Swaying backward and forward, controlling each blade, While nature seem'd lured by each spherical glass, And the soft fanning zephyrs roll'd on through the glade. Helena, my school mate, had stole from her room Unchallenged, to wander with me at the dawn ; Her lessons unheeded, uncar'd for the doom Which her hard-hearted school-dame around her had drawn. When she look'd np to me, with her beautiful eyes. Surpassing the dewdrops which stood at our feet, Aurora-wrapt brightness unfolded the prize. Which shadowed the blossoms with graces replete. We plighted our troth on that early spring morn, And Cupid and Hymen the nuptial knot tied. Though the hyssop would grow, and the rose have its thorn, I never regret that I made her my bride. The brightness of childhood now reigns in her face, And the charms of her womanhood dwell on her brow, Her form is as perfect, and as pleasing her grace As when on th' May morning I pledged her my vow. 'Twas nature in childhood, 'twas nature in youth, 'Twas nature when womanhood claimed me her own, *Twas nature preserved her, 'twas nature, forsooth, Which now in the seventies dares to atone. Disease may be rampant, but Nature stands by. And shouts to the echo throughout her domain; There is naught in the heavens, the earth or the sky But ever responds to her magic refrain. SOL,IL,OQUY ON DUST. 17 Soliloquy on Dust. [This poom was written exteniporo at tho request of a friend, on taking the dust from a shelf in a room and holding tho particles on his finger.] INCONGRUOUS mass! 1 Unfasliioned, dull and unadorned; The unsensed atoms of thy bulk Man's searching wisdom may divine. Not BO the Power which permeates The whole with hidden laws ; These man doth not, nor can he understand, Unless some power as yet unknown Unveils the secret springs of life And shows the cause. Say, what is life ? Ye sage philosophers who strive To search through matter for its laws; Can ye define or render clear The power which gives it motion ? Or doth some common barrier keep Ye and the duller mortals back, In one commingled, listless throng. Each struck with awe the while ye gaze On life's trite forms ? 'Tis well to know The action of dissimilar things; The various gases that assume A given form, by given parts conjoined. Such knowledge aids us in our search, And wisely used, directs our thoughts To that great cause of life and being Which from eternity hath been The motive power and sole support Of this our world. But take the dust From off some marble portico, Neath which the haughty purse-proud tread, 18 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Or, from some peasant's crumbled cot, Collect the dull and dingy mass That time hath packed beneath the eaves; This, laid in heaps, will germinate; Such varied forms of life assume, Defying all the arts of man To trace the cause. Who hath not watched A sunbeam dazzling in the shade. Wherein a countless host display The power of matter to assume A form invisible to man. Which, but for the sun's effulgence Would to the unlettered yet remain A hazy phantom of the mind, And hiiman speech would fail to give An explanation. Tet thou, proud man, With all thy wondrous parts conjoined; Thy quick conception and thy speech. Thy brain's vast empire and the train Of wonder-working faculties With which thou art alone endowed. By nature set upon the world The living prototype of power; Yet thou wert dust, and must return To dust again. Look back through time And try to print upon your brain The virgin world's chaotic mode. When e'en the essence of your lives As yet had not begun to be, And say canst thou conceive a Form Somewhere existent, with the power To call to being all forms of life Which now the universe display? When thus conceived, but not till then Can ye believe in God. REVERIE OF THE IRISH EMIGRANT. 19 The Reverie of the Irish Emigrant. [A description of the country between Brayhead and Glcndalough. Here It was that Moore wrote the most of his Irish Melodies.] SWEET home of my childhood, dear sylphs of the glen, Loved sprites of the Dargle, I court ye again ! O, lead me in spirit thy mountains among, Tho' far from the fir-crowned coverts of song. In the wilds of Columbia, 'midst mountains of snow. An alien I roam, where her wild torrents flow ; Still the silver-tipped waters of PoAverscourt vale And the scenes of my childhood loom up through the gale ; The streams of the Vartry j^urling on the town, Where the brown- heather'd mountains of Wicklow look down On my loved Enniskerry, by the rock-severed Scalp, Which pales in its beauty the snow-covered Alp. When the crimson-faced sun o'er the Sugarloaf fell, And nature in silence reigned over the dell, On its evergreen hillocks I would stay me to rest, With the cheek of my Maggie, love, laid on my breast. While away in the distance the headland of Bray, Looking o'er the wild ocean, our thoughts would betray, And pictures of freedom, of wealth and of ease, Stript the glen of its beauties, our hopes to appease. We talked of the joys in the land of the free, And pictured in fancy our home as 'twould bo ; But fate, th' cruel guardian, kept watch at my side, And robb'd me of Maggie, my hope and my pride ; In the vale of Avoca they laid her to sleep. And left me to wander alone o'er the deep ; Far o'er the wide ocean, o'er mountain and plain, I have sought me a home, but have sought it in vain ; For where is the home without those whom we love? O, where can we rest from our friendships removed? Then let me go back to the Glen of the Downs, To the sweet Dargle streams and Avoca'a green mounds; 20 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Let me watch the wild cataract over the fall, And once more the days of my childhood recall ; Let me hear the sweet note of the skylark on high, And the linnet's shrill song in the covert hard by ; Let me wander again through the Ballyman glen : By the Scalp overshadowed, deep hidden from men ; Where the well of St. Kevin low nestling from view, Was covered by tributes which pilgrims bestrew ; O, how well I remember when Maggie and I Stopped to drink of its waters, all parching and dry ; When we split up our 'kerchiefs and swore to be true. As our path by the suicide's grave did pursue. When the remnants we hung on St. Kevin's ash tree, We swore then forever ne'er parted to be, And there by the bush-covered church in the glen. We prayed to St. Kevin again and again. The sombre-leaved holly in the vale of Glencree, And the hills of Glencullen found pleasure for me, While the sides of the Douce towering up to the sky. Through its rock-channel surface the Dargle supply With its silver-tipp'd waters that danced through the vale, Scarce touched with the sunshine or brushed with the gale, Through the sylvan retreats of the Dan and the Tay, And to old Glendalough I would wander away. Ah ! bleak Massachusetts, I'll bid thee farewell, And aback to my home in the hoUybrook dell. Where the evergreen, oaks and the cypress and yew O'ershadow the ruins of Kilmacanague. Through the dark narrow glade where the brooklet steals by; The pasa in the mountains towering up to the sky ; Where the Downs from the Sugarloaf, split by the stream, Keep back by their shadows the sun's piercing beam, There again I will roam at the dawn of the day, And when labor is o'er through the valley I'll stray, And feel myself blessed at the sight of the streams Which enwrapt me with pleasure through life's early dreams. Through the Delgany vales and the hills of Bellevue, And the green parks of Tinna my walks I'll renew. E'en now in my fancy that country I scan From the Downs lofty mountain to the vale of Dunran, HOPE. 21 Through the vista of time I look back on the day When the stones in the brook of Glendaragh I lay, Whereon I could step, as with pleasure I bore My love o'er its waters to high Altadore ; Though thirty long years with their changes I've seen, The Hermitage still is as fresh in the scene As when o'er its rough broken stones I would tread. And the cloth for our picnic between them was spread, When the sweet voice of Maggie re-echoed the dell As it joined with the notes of the birds as they fell On our ears from the cone-covered pines in the glade, Till I felt as though Orpheus was hid in the shade ; I'll leave thee, Columbia (my long foster home), And back to green Erin again I will roam, And there I will dwell until summoned from men, To meet in the Heavens my Maggie again. Hope. HOPE is the warrior's strength with which he wields his sword ; Hope will press the minstrel on to sound his harpsichord ; Hope the weary seaman soothes in wreck, or storm or gale ; Hope will urge the artist on, tho' first his work may fail ; Hope the poet's pen will guide through satire, play, or song ; Hope, it is the sculptor's rock to carve his figures from ; Hope's the axletree of life, on which its car must sway ; Hope once lost, our life must fail, and death must end our day. 22 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Life and Magnetism. BENEATH our feet we crush at every tread The pregnant life- cells of a world unborn, 'Tis but by God-made law this world we know Hath 'scaped destruction from the feet of time. The glow-worm's lamp, the firefly's fitful spark, The rainbow hues which deck the gad-fly's wing, Are but the changing conformations of the dust 3Ioved into life by the magnet's subtle force. Tiius from the womb of earth unnumbered millions spring, Each difEering in their form, yet all imbued With that same force which built the mastodon And gives the spider its intelligence. The woven cobwebs clinging to your walls, The geometric cell of wasp or bee. The matted chrysalis of the butterfly. Are but the outcome of magnetic law. Shut from yourselves the sunbeam's radiant light. Prison your flowers in cloisters dank and dark ; Nature would then her lamp of life bedim. And our existence make a charnel-house. The cells which form the network of our nerves Are moved to motion by the self-same law Which holds the planets to their orbits' course And keeps this world from rushing into space. IPHETONGA. 23 IPHETONGA. [The follo'wing poem pictures one of the most remarKa -e incidents of American history. Hendric Hudson was employed by the government of Holland, to discover, if possible, "the northwest passage." It was in this endeavor he drifted along the shore of " Long' Island." Allured by the wild grapes and plums growing along the fertile beach of far liockaway and Carnarsie, he lowered his boats from his g-ood ship, '"Half Moon," and with his crew made for the shore. The Carnarsie and Kockaway Indians had watched from their wigwams the strange craft, as also the boats pulling for the shore, and wading out through the surf, met the strangers as they struck the beach. This was the beginning of American civilization. "Iphetonga" was the name of an Indian princess, who, with her tribe, dwelt upon th o bluffs opposite New York City, now known as " Brooklyn Heights," at whose feet runs the beautiful river " Manhattan," since named "The Hudson," in honor of its discoverer.] IPHETONGA. GONE and forever are the whoops of Carnarsie! No more doth the brushwo(5d conceal the dark foe ; No more do the Rockaways hunt through the cedars, Which lined the broad beach stretching out to the sea. Gone are the vineyards and the surf- sprinkled plum trees, Which lured to Manhattan, young Hudson, the brave ; No more do we barter the skins of our Island, As did the wild Indian who dwelt on our shores. When the Half Moon bore down on the white sands of Coney, The wild wolf was heard through the tall, pointed pines, While out through the surf came the clamoring natives To meet the brave crew as they rowed for the shore. Their pow-wows they raised to the spirit of evil, And offered the wampum surrounding their bodies. For beads and for trinkets the white men presented. And friendship cemented the hour of their landing. Down through the decades hath passed the strange story Which gave to the river surrounding Manhattan A name that midst nations is spoken with pride ; And hailed as the conduit of ne'er dying freedom. Columbus, the Spaniard, in the height of his prowess. Ne'er dreamed that the fleets of the world would be anchored. 24 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Breast deep on the waters wbicli Hudson since named, While up through Gowanus his Dutch ship was steered. When they gazed on the woods of the high Iphetonga, Which towered o'er the stream in the front of Manhattan While paddled the savage his tree-formed canoe, Fresh freighted with furs from the wolf and the beaver, The glass beads of Amsterdam paid for the treasures, For which the wild savage had toiled through the season, Yet happy was he the bright gewgaws to gather. And gave for the baubles the fruits of his labor. »****»*♦* But changed is the scene since the advent of Hudson, For the hands of the white man have leveled the woodlands, And the dusky browed savage hath gone to his fathers And left Iphetonga the queen of the ocean. The wigwams were cleared for the homes of the white man, The loom took the place of the bow and the arrow. The ax and the adz then fashioned the timbers And built the proud ships which were launched on our waters. No more o'er the woodlands nor down by the river. Where proud Iphetonga uplifted her head. Do we hear the wild whoop of the red-painted Indian, And the howl of the wolf in the forest is ended. But up from the sea rose the white sands of Coney, And gave us the Island, the pride of our country. Where men of all nations can mingle for pleasure. And pass the hot months midst the spray of its waters. The rich and the lowly, the proud and the humble, Send back to their fatherland tales of their sporting On the banks of the ocean where Hudson first landed. Far back in the decades among the wild savage. How little we think, while we sport in the waters. Of the terrible scenes which gave to the white man The right to the Island from the savage Carnarsies, Who fought to the death for the land of their fathers. THE LOSS OF THE EURYDICE. 25 [Her Majesty's gun-boat, the Eurydice, was a ship of twelve guns, with a crew of four hundred all told. She had heeu sent to cruise olE the Islands of Barbadoes, in the West Indies, and, through some accident, was lost sight of for a long time, and many of the friends of the crew mourned them as lost, when the news came to them and the government that she was safe, and on the 24th of March, 1878, it being Sunday, the people on the Isle of Wight were watching all day the lost ship's return, when at about - o'clock in the after- noon, she was sighted oif Ventnor and Bon Ohurch Downs, sailing merrily along with all sails full set, on her road to the Downs, which was her destina- tion, being- only about two hours' sail to her anchorage. The people on shore could see the crew on deck waving their caps and handkerchiefs, while the church bells of Bon Church could be heard on the deck of the ship. Amidst all the joys of the home-coming- of the ship and crew, a sadden squall blew up, and the port-holes of the ship, being all open, admitted of the ingress of water as she fell over on her side, and thus in ten minutes not a sign of the ship was seen and only two persons survived to tell the tale of all the crew on board. Marcus Hare was seen to cling to the side of the ship and went down, never to rise again until God shall call him hence to that home where billows never roll nor ships go down in sight of home. The author was inti- mately acquainted with Fletcher, one of the sui-vivors.] The Loss of the Eurydice. HURRAH ! hurrah ! hurrah ! we're home, Three hundred voices cried ; And their merry shouts were echoed back Across the surging tide. The proud ship danced like a neighing steed, As she tript each sunlit wave ; And the golden gleams from Vecta's Hills Their silent welcome gave. Now the terraced town of Ventnor rose All glorious on the scene ; And the music of the Bon Church bells Swept o'er the village green ; They had sighted the sound by Edgecombe Hill, And left Devonia behind ; And Dorset's plains receded from view, As they leapt before the wind. Then the Sabbath prayers were offered up, And the Sabbath psalms were sung ; And every man now joined in praise To the Good and Holy One. 2(j POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. "Ahoy, my lads ! set every sail ! " The captain proudly cried ; "With this fair Avind, ere the sun is set, We shall safe at anchor ride." Then every man of the watch on deck At his duty's post was found ; As the sheets swelled out with the rising wind And bore on the homeward bound ; The off-watch crew were writing below To sweethearts, parents and friends, And tokens of love were scan'd anew, With many promised amends. One saw his wife o'erpowered with joy, Come running adown the strand ; While another heard his sweetheart's voice And in fancy grasped her hand ; They knew the electric wires had told The news of their safe return, And felt again their plighted troth Anew in their bosoms burn. The sailor boy of the morning watch Had slept through the sunlit day ; But leapt with joy when told how short Was his time on board to stay : He took from his breast the silken bag, Which his mother bade him wear. And viewed with joy each separate lock : The locks of his sisters' hair. Ah, this is Annie's auburn curl Which grew o'er her snowy brow ; And this is Jennie's chestnut lock Which I dipt it seems but now ; And this is mother's silvery hair Which father took to sea. And wore it in this very bag. Till dving left it me. THE LOSS OF THE EURYDICE. 27 And these the everlasting flowers, Which grew by the garden path, Adown which my school-mate, Jane and I, Oft fled from the school-dame's wrath ; But mother dear, and sisters too, I feel our meeting nigh, When e'en the school-dame will forgive The wrongs of Jane and I. Hark! hark! the boatswain's voice is heard, All hands are piped on deck ; Strike! strike! the topsails, lower the sheets. Or our good ship's a wreck ; The gallant hands to the rigging flew In spite of the blinding squall ; And there they worked, as brave a band As ever obey'd a call. 'Twas all in vain ; gaunt, giant death Had seized the unbending helm ; And the storm fiend clung to the trembling ship The sailors to overwhelm. There's»no time to cut the pinnace free, There's no time the boats to lower; But each seaman fought with destiny In sight of his native shore. Then the ship fell broadside on the waves While the sails dipp'd in the sea. The drowning shrieks of that noble crew In a moment ceased to be. Brave Marcus Hare was the last man seen, Alone on that sinking ship, And calmly stood as she glided down Till the salt waves kiss'd his lip. And the two survivors proudly tell Of the captain's noble mein. As from the side of the Eurydice He gaz'd on the closing scene ; 28 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. And bow he clung to his sinking ship Tjikc a lover to his bride ; And how like a sailor he had lived, And there, like a sailor, died. May young Fletcher live to hear the t-ale Told by his grandson's child ; How he and his comrade, Cuddiford, Bare uj) through that tempest wild ; How, on that eventful Sunday eve. They rode on a sunlit foam, When a blinding squall o'ertook the ship. Which sunk in the sight of home. The Philosophy of Life. THE star depths of empyrean vspace convey Between the moving atoms of the air That subtle aura, Hoating from the sun, AVhich moulds the germs of universal life. The sun's volcanoes, belching forth their tires, Through darkened space, on thro' our atmosphere, Pour their magnetic ether on the earth. Till life from de;id inertia seems to spring. Hut back of all a hand divine is seen. And atheists' ravings melt to nothingness, From whence or where the cause of earth and sky Is not vonchsafed for puny man to know. Parent of worlds, mother, or father — God, We owe thee tribute, though we know thee not. Thy handiwork thnnighout creation claims Our honiage for thy vast inuniticeiice. DEATH'S PRIME MINISTER. 29 Death's Prime Minister. A TEMPERANCE ALLEGORY. DEATH in his council chamber sat, Surrounded by a ghastly train Of sordid lust, disease and vice, Crouched near his throne, in ling'ring pain. The most detested fiend of hell Stood near the grisly Monarch's chair. His name was Guilt; his putrid breath The pandemonium's atmosphere ; While Conscience, fettered like a slave, Stood side by side with pale-eyed Fear, Trembling, as the lightnings flashed Through murky panes and fetid air. The Monarch, from his skull-built throne. With weird commanding, hollow voice Spoke thus: My mandate, be it known, To decide the primate of my choice. Delusion, who stood list'ning by. Was bid to guard the palace gate, That he might usher to the throne Whoever came as candidate. First, silent, hectic Asthma came, With shoulders bent and bated breath. In words half-uttered, pressed his claim. For the proud Premiership of Death. Then hobbled in on ashen stick. Plethoric Gout with bandaged limbs ; While at his side his cousin stood. Rheumatic, with his hundred whims. Then Colic, writhing in distress. With wild contortions fright the throng, And showed, by frantic, wild grimace. How he could prostrate old and young. 30 POEMS OF TWO WORIvDS. Next, Cholera came with leaden face, And brow bedewed with clammy sweat. And told how countless myriads. Through him alone, their doom had met. Then lurid Fever forward pressed. In hurried accents thus began : Most noble Liege, in me behold Thy faithful servant, scourge of man ! The various guises I assume Empowers me every home to reach. And madness follows in my wake, And widens out my every breach. Consumption next approached the King, With glassy eyes which pierced the gloom, Then peering at the clamoring band, She smiling pointed to the tomb. See! Here the tottering infant rests ; And here, the parents' hopeful youth. And here, the bride but newly wed! Anon the bridegroom rests, forsooth! With deep flushed face I oft decoy ; The guise of beauty bid them wear ; So sure my aim, they all must fall. Though they for yeai's evade my snare. Thus, every claimant pressed his suit. And anxious waited the award. And all was silent as the tomb; — Not e'en a heaving breast was heard : When from without, a reveling band And Bacchanalian songs were heard ; Then, fell each moment on the ear Some envious, vile, blasphemous word. A woman, then, with head erect. Pacing through the aisles was seen ; A vine-leaved crown her head bedecked, — A serpent in her hand was seen ; Licentious youths walked at her side. And wanton harlots led the choir. While Clamour, following, did deride. And Anger vented forth his fire. DEATH'S PRIME MINISTER. 31 Beneath her scrutinizing gaze, The boastful claimants seemed to pall, And thus she spoke, as on she pressed — "I am the mother of ye all! Stand back! ye knaves, your king shall hear How I have always served the State, Nor dare ye now to interfere Till I, my every claim relate : Intemperance is the name I bear, I claim my birthright from the vine. And millions, humbled in the dust. Found out too late what powers were mine. I rear my castles everywhere, And every scheming art devise. Till my insidious powers are known, To crush alike, the dull and wise!" At once a gleam of pleasure passed Across the Monarch's grisly face, And those who sat elate, before. With sorrowing hearts their steps retrace. •Death 'rose, and with a smothered smile. His hollowed voice the chamber rang: — My Premier is Intemperance, And hath been since the world began! 32 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. [The following poem was written in the City of Waterford, Ireland, upon the occasion of a begging- petition being sent around for money to purchase an estate for Prince Arthur, upon his marriage, and this while the Irish pp;;santry were starving for bread, and when the habeas corpus act was sus- pended in Ireland, and the author had to escape from Waterford to avoid arrest for sedition, or his fate would have been that of Davitt and others who were so unfairly treated at about the same time.] An Irish Appeal for a Poor Prince. DUKE OF COXIs^AUGHT PRESENTATION. The Lord Mayor begs to acknowledge the receipt of £49 Os 6d from Lord Listowel; £12 14s 6d from Mayor of Waterford; 2s 6d from Rev. S. Clarke. Kingstown; £1 from Major Leech, and £1 from David Arnott, Irish Times Office. KIND Christian friends, who feel for others' woe, A Royal Prince would to the altar go — But his poor dame, so sparsely fed and clad, Can nothing give to help her soldier lad. Then send around the hat to all who feel An interest in this wooing Princeship's weal. From Lee's green banks high up to Causeway head. Let Charity her Christian bounties spread — From Wicklow's hills to Galway's rugged plains Collect the pence from labor's hard wrought gains ; Bid landlords starve the tillers of the soil, And crimp the wages of their daily toil, That they may pile the blood-wrought lucre high — The coffers thus of this young prince supply ; Then set apart some dozen miles of land. Where he when wed may henceforth hold command — Where he can keep to labour's market price. And follow Darnly in his blood-bought vice — Like Lord Tredeger teach them how to carve The oatmeal cake, on which they cannot starve. Eject some hundred tenants from their home, And bid them wauder houseless and alone. Then give the proceeds to this Royal pair. And consecrate the act in Christian prayer — Medina's waters, back'd by Vecta's heights. Where Osborne House in castle form delights, APPEAL, FOR A POOR PRINCE. 33 Have lost theii- spell this Irish Duke to charm Who fain for aye would lean on Erin's arm. Ye loyal sons of Erin's "prosperous" Isle, Who, hap'ly placed, ne'er heard of "landlord's guile!" Where every rood of land from sea to sea To rich and poor alike was ever free. This Eden Isle, where want is "never known," Should surely find some succour for the throne. Then give from out your ever " bounteous store,' To aid this Prince, so noble — yet so poor. Poor England gave, and so did Scotia, too, To help this Prince seek out a home with you — Though evil men with vile intent hath said That Erin's sons are starving now for bread — Who lack the means the wants of life to earn, And misery 's rampant — no matter whei-e you turn. Oatmeal so cheap, and river water free, Men need not starve, nor talk of misery — Ye loyal Mayors of every Irish town, Yield ratepayers' cash, nor heed the starvelings' frown, But flood the columns of the daily Press, And advertise young Connaught's sore distress. Heed not the wails of all that workhouse brood. Who, sick and starving, clamor now for food. But let them die if it be God's deci-ee. Good riddance, too, from such incumbrance free. In one short year we spent on workhouse wine What would have served an Alderman to dine, A dozen Princes and the Royal suite, And won a Knighthood for the civic treat. We ought to do as did our friend St. Paul, The civic magnate of Northampton Hall, Who, when poor Wells, at sixty years of age, Refused his aid, the workhouse to assuage. From sixteen shillings, earned near every week, He would not give his one-and-six per week — So ojff to gaol, with felons he was led, Handcuff'd and chain'd, to eat the prison bread. This glorious law of Queen Victoria's reign Should be enforced in Ireland once again — 34 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Then freely give, with loyal and generous hand, And young Prince Arthur welcome to our land — A castellated dwelling now provide Upon the banks of Shannon's crystal tide. By tithes and taxes pay his yearly bill, Tho' widows weep for starving children still — Then think of all the honors you achieve, When you the wants of this young Prince relieve — Remember, too, that all must meet above, And prince and peasant in one phalanx move. What boots it then if starving men should wait Without the halls, wherein in civic state, As much is spent in Aldermanic cheer As would provide a thousand for a year. Then give it forth unto the thoughtless throng That to this Prince our sympathies belong ; That th' old adage we so long have known — That charity should e'er begin at home — May all be true where poor the poor provide, But not where Princes seek a Royal bride. In such a case we nothing have to do But send the hat and satchel round to you, And our success the better to insure, The largest City Hall we must secure. Of course the costs the rates will all defray, Or we may lower the city sweepers' pay. Or tell the nurses of each workhouse ward That food is dear and times so very hard That we must crimp the food and fuel supply. Nor heed the want on't if the paupers die. A glorious future then awaits our scheme. When our loyal acts shall be the common theme. And Lords and Commons in no distant day May grant a knighthood as the royal pay, And perhaps some day will recognize the fact, Again suspend the Habeas Corpus Act, To gag the mouths and freedom of our Isle, Or place our patriots into dungeons vile. What once has happened may perhaps occur again. For Erin's history runs in such a vein. APPEAI^ FOR A POOR PRINCE. 35 All men are fools who boast the patriot's name, And fools and rogues should all be served the same ; The love of country and all such balderdash Is best requited by the gaoler's lash — For what is country and our friends at home Against the love that we should bear the throne, Which but for it the offices we hold Could not be purchased by our surplus gold, But brains instead would win the foremost place, And fustian distance broadcloth in the race. The stocks and shares that now our coffers fill Would be divided at our workmen's will, For they would teach that all their work and brains Are worth as much as is our idle gains. Have they not dared a certain price to lay On every hour they work on any day? And if we yield to dictates such as these, Why we would need to earn our bread and cheese — To walk out early through the frosts and snows, With holes through elbows and through boots our toes ; At breakfast time seek out some shelter near To eat our bi*ead and drink our water clear. To let them keep the land they have improved. And us abuse should they be e'er removed ; With brooms and brushes soil our daughters' hands. Which now are trained for Broadwood's dulcet strands In fact, they'd teach that flesh and blood's the same In aldermanic or through peasant's vein. That plebeian blood is good as loyal blue. And human nature all alike imbue. Then give, my friends, this Royal Prince your aid. And let all nonsense in the dust be laid. And hear the Queen through Parliament declare That Ireland found a castle for the pair Who had by birth nor blood one single claim But 'twas alone her confidence to gain — Yes, tell the Queen that famine, want, despair. Throughout our land is rampant everywhere. In spite of which we ope'd our purses wide To welcome Arthur and his Royal bride. 36 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. My Card Tray. MY card tray stood by the parlor door, Well filled with the scripts of ten long years ; I turned the mementoes o'er and o'er, Midst pleasure and pain and falling tears. Each well remembered name I scanned. And paused anon midst heaving sighs And fitful smiles, while through my hand The time-stained cards in turn would rise. Annie Revere, my schoolmate friend, Left this upon her wedding day ; E'en now I see her hand extend As on that morn she went away. But Annie, alas! her fate was sealed. For ere the sun its cycle sped The muffled bell for my schoolmate peal'd, And the bride of a year we mourned her dead. Here is Barney St. Clair, that dear old man Whose snow-white locks before my gaze — Are as vivid as when to the gate I ran And welcomed him home in my childhood days. But he is as young as at forty-five, And his hair is as full, and his eyes as bright As when in my childhood glee I'd strive In blindman's buff to hide from sight. EMILY'S FAREWEL,Iv. 37 [This was written after reading the remarkable storj' of a Mr. Cogrnan, who was a cari)enter liv^ing- in London. His dai.ig-hter, Emily Cogman, had been in the London hospital, in the Whitechapel Road, for several months, suffering from consumption, and a few days before her death the doctors sent for Mr. Cogman and told him his daughter was convalescent and could with benefit to herself leave the hospital, she being very strong- and In a fair way of ultimate recovery. Mr. Cogman thereupon caused a suite of rooms to be prepared for her, he being a widower and living alone. On the Saturday, midday, he was in the rooms preparing for her reception, when looking up from the cai-pet he was tacking down he saw his daughter come through the solid door without opening it. He became somewhat alarmed but rose to meet her only to find she had left. Thereupon he hurried off to the hospital and as he walked down the aisle of the ward in which his daughter had Iain he saw in the distance his daughter rise from the bed in the dress she had worn in the room an hour before, and which was the one she had worn when she first went to the hospital. As she floated towards the ceiling: she held out her arms, seeming to catch the longing look of her father, and addressed him this farewell: "Father, fare thee well; think of me when I am there." The readers of the journal of John Wesley will remember that he, on several occasions, claimed to have seen the apparitions of his friends. The author has nothing to offer, but merely states the facts.] Emily's Farewell. I AM going across the river, Will you come, will you come ! Dear friends are waiting anxiously, Beck'ning home, beck'ning home. Oh ! see their arms outstretched for me, I'll away, I'll away ; Quick ! trim the boat, the water's free, Don't delay, don't delay. One has a chaplet in her hand, That's for me, that's for me, When on the shore of that bright land, Ever free, ever free. Oh ! see that robe another holds ! That is mine, that is mine ; Mark how the gems enrich the folds — Bright, divine ; bright, divine. Not long I've trod this earthly plane — Yet too long, yet too long, I've had to bear its pangs and pain. Midst the throng, midst the throng. 38 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Yet I've striven for the good, Fought the tight, fought the light ; When foes stood by in threat' ning mood ; Diffused the light, diffused the light. Dear father, watch thy daughter's flight, Not in tears, not in tears ; For I shall dwell in endless light In the spheres, in the spheres. Hark ! hear that music on the air My requiem swell, my requiem swell ; O ! think of me when I am there ! Fare thee well, fare thee well. Truth Ever Wins! JOIN thy young life with those whose soul can ever prove a friend, Evolve thy nature's own control, thine honor e'er defend. A flatterer's tongue may lead astray, and wreck thy budding life. Now watch thee those who would betray, or fill thy path with strife. Make this a motto for thy home, and in thy chamber place; Unite in peace whoe'er shall come: "Truth ever wins the race." Respect thyself tho' friends may chide ; do right and never fear ; Remember that the world is wide, though shadows may appear ; An honest heart on life's rough sea will ever win its way, Youth's shadows may envelope thee, but hope thy life must sway. THE WAIL OF THE SEASON. 39 [The winter of 18S9 and 1890 was exceedingly mild, not only in Indiana but in the neighboring- states. The following poems were written to com- memorate that remarliable season.] The Wail of the Season. OH! where has the wanderer gone? For weeks I have wished his return. I have basked in the meadows alone, While the winds of January burn. Adown by the rippling stream, Soft zephyrs ai'e fanning my head, While a mantle of emerald green O'er mountain and valley is spread. A bouquet of pansies I culled. With golden taraxicums twined. And the bull-thistle's casket I hulled. And its thistle down blew to the wind. The gossamers spread o'er the grass, Betipped with the dews of the morn, And the mercury rose in the glass When the last of the decades was born. I love thee, dear Winter, and yet I'm afraid thou art fickle and free, For the Gulf-stream, a wicked coquette. Has oft set her bonnet for thee. Oh, come back, my lover, to me ! The sleigh and the robes I'll prepare, And the waters o'er meadow and lea, The steel-footed skaters shall bear ; I will pile up the snow on the banks. And the school-boy shall slide on the pool, And the farmer in spring shall give thanks That my darling old Winter did rule. I'm afraid that thy cousin, young Spring, Is aiming to shorten thy reign ; Let the sleigh-bells merrily ring. And welcome mv lover again ! 40 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Welcome to Winter. THE sleigh-bells are merrily ringing, My lover Old Winter hath come, And the beautiful icicles clinging, To the eaves of every home. I have waited so long thy returning. And anxiously watch'd every day, My heart throbs, my bosom was burning, And wonder'd what caused thy delay. But I woke from my couch in the morning, AVhen January brought me her snow. And the frost-king began his adorning. Of the panes of the rich and the low. I knew that my friends were rejoicing, And sharing their gladness with me. And the winds my wishes were voicing, The while I was waiting for thee. Come lay thy Avliite head on my breast. And tell me once more thou art mine. I know thou wilt grant my request. And my love in return shall be thine. The lakes and the rivers were waiting. To yield to thy wonted embrace. And the school- boys wholong'd for their skating, Now gleefully smile on thy face. The trees in the woods and the glens, And the velvety grass on the plain Awaited thy crystalline gems. To embellish their bodies again. May thy coming be-gladden each soul, Of those who have watched thy return, And joy lead them on to its goal. Where the bright fires of hope ever burn. s^^jSf^^C And ihe " little pigs to market," " Tweeking " made the young heart bound. TO THE NEW YEAR, 1890. 41 To THE New Year, i890. WE watched last night thy elder brother's death ; The while the midnight bells entoned the air, And vesper hymns borne on a nation's breath, Betold thy birth into this world of care. Thou com'st to us a child of hidden fate, Our hopes and fears now on thy shoulders lay, The hands of Time in silence we await. And henceforth all thy mandates must obey. We laid thy brother on a flower decked bier, And wrapp'd his corpse in robes of vernal hue. Nor glassy ice, nor flaky snows were there, But sunny spring clasped hands with him and you. Winter delayed his journey round the world. And meadow-blossoms decked thy infant bed; While blighting care his sad'ning banner furled. And peace and joy their mirthful moments spread. Want stood aside and sorrow's tears were dried. And love and hope their robes about thee threw : Thy brother's hand they grasped the while he died And held thine own, while into life you grew. Mother's Teachings. BY a bedside, in the gloaming. When the shadows of the night Played around the window curtains, Clothing all in calm delight. Sat a mother with her offspring, Listening to old nursery tales ; Tales that every gray- haired parent Backward reads through memory's veils ; When the lisping tongue was bridled. And the young ears caught the sound. And the "Little Pigs to Market," " Tweeking " made the young heart bound. 42 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Then began the life-long lesson. To be good was to be loved ; And that lesson well remembered, E'er a beacon light hath proved. Mothers, ye who mould our being. From your laps the nations spring ; 'Tis to you we look for progress, Ye can peace or sorrow bring ; Yours the sceptre, yours the crown. Yours the hand and heart to guide, By your precepts, by your lives, Spread the temperance doctrine wide. Beauty. I KNOW not why. Philosophers declare That Beauty is but skin deep to the view ; Nor why they paint a vision of despair. When time shall sear the cheek of tinted hue. The snowy brow, the graceful swanlike neck. And glossy curls, that o'er the shoulders wave, Are but the gems with which our God did deck That noble gift which he to Adam gave. 'Tis in the deep recesses of the soul, Where we alone unsullied beauty trace. Where streams of love unfeigned forever roll. Though gi-ey the locks and furrowed be the face. True beauty rare we iind in woman's love, When hard our fate midst sickness and distress. Then her sweet voice like music from above. Can soothe our cares and every moment bless. Then say no more that beauty e'er can fade, For beauty lies deep hidden from your gaze ; But give your love unfetter'd to the maid. And beauty's charms will claim your endless praise. ^3vj.»T^'\-'**'"'' •IISJIR^^'^"^*^ Art Ajv--h V The sombre curtains of the night moved zephyr-like without a pause, Then 'neath an arch of crimson light Sunbeam appeared with Santa Glaus," BIRTH AND ADVENTURES OF SANTA CEAUS. 43 Birth and Adventures of Santa Glaus. FAR, far away in distant ages, before the life of man was known. With none to paint the picture-pages for which our children now are prone, Time, out in space, all sad and lonely, moved slowly through the universe ; Conscious ever that he only with God and angels could converse. Being weary of a single life, the palace of the Sun he sought, Determined to find therein a wife, and with him his creden- tials brought. Old Sol, with beaming, bright expression — the gray-beard saw and welcomed him, And quick prepared a grand procession of laughing, chubby cherubim. Now Sunbeam was the oldest daughter, who marshal'd on the glittering throng ; With harps the Seraphim besought her and cheer'd the angel band with song, A glittering conclave graced the throne when Sol the happy swain addressed — "Time: My daughter. Sunbeam, is thine own ; with death- less life be each possessed." Here in my celestial home has earth's first nuptial knot been tied, From out my courts shall worlds unknown, the deathless universe divide ; Each world shall be to each a light ; thou. Time, by mar- riage made my son, Shall mark the nations in their flight, while worlds shall crumble, one by one. The queen of seraphs and thy bride with thee shall back to earth repair, And magic wands I will provide that shall protect them every- where. 44 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. The source of life they shall control, and beings rise at their command, And joy shall fill each life- wrought soul and shower its bless- ings o'er the land. The seraph qiieen, a fairy now, shall wingless on the earth reside. And she my mandates will avow and e'er jn-otect thee and thy bride ; The soil thy every want shall yield and all thy human hosts maintain. And endless life shall be revealed to every soul on earth's domain. Tho' older than his father-in-law, old Time was ever blithe and gay, And in the crystal ice he saw his hair and beard were snowy gray. Now Sunbeam and Time a counsel held in a broad cave of clefted ice ; By fairies and fays they were bespel'd, but fought against each elf's device. They each wished a son that should embrace sleek, snowy locks and sunlit face, Wherein old age and youth may trace enwisdom'd years and youthful grace. Now Sunbeam back to her father hied and met him as he left his throne ; Old Sol, through the aisle his daughter 'spied, whose radiant face majestic shone ; He read her wish in every line like words congealed upon her brow — "Thy heart's desire is already thine ; husband and sou await thee now ; Hie thee a-back to the Northland wild ; thy love hath won thy noble cause. And honor thy earth-bound, mystic child with the deathless name of Santa Claus." •i Now Sunbeam grasp'd her wings of light and pin'd them to her fairy form ; Her pinions gleamed with radiance bright while earthward riding on the storm. -.^ ^ M ^■^ C in *- « 5 >- - ^< >- i. zpf ns i- k Q. ■- X ■0 tm ■D — \ c •*• \ 18 O 5 « o "o •- c Ul (8 <8 ^ 4;^ £ « t. 3 v o E ? M^ BIRTH AND ADVENTURES OF SANTA CLAUS. 45 Time waited now with yearning heart the safe returning of his bride, When he beheld, with sudden start, Aurora's flood gates open wide : The sombre curtains of the night moved zephyr-like without a pause, Then 'neath an arch of crimson light Sunbeam appeared with Santa Claus. From icy gorge and crystal cave sweet fairy music fiU'd the air. And Time a rapturous welcome gave and clasped with joy his new-found heir. From rocks and hills on every side mischievous elfs and fays were seen, Yet Santa Claus in their gambols vied and wish'd that he a child had been. Old Time replied in language mild when Santa Claus himself exjjressed : "Thou art my son, both man and child ; through thee shall unborn babes be bless'd." Across a chasm broad and deep, a pine-tree forest rear'd its head And foaming waters down the steep with thundering rush the torrent sped. Now Santa Claus beheld the land luxuriant with moss and fern. While Sunbeam called her elfin band and would from each their wishes learn : With one accord they all declared that they would through the forest roam. The thought of crossing, each one scared as they look'd be- low on the boiling foam. Sunbeam her magic wand display'd and waved it o'er the deep ravine ; With gorgeous bands of light arrayed a rainbow bridge at once was seen ; A shout of joy now fill'd the air and echo backward threw the sound, Ten thousand tiny feet were there who sought the bridge with niasjic bound. 46 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Now every one of all the band had safely cross'd the deep abyss ; For greenwoods wild and forest land they left the ice-bonnd wilderness. Like pilgrims from a distant land safe settled on a friendly shore, They call'd together all the band and plan'd the country to explore. The faii'ies hushed their tinkling bells and all the little elfs obeyed ; Deep silence reigned o'er hills and dells while they their new- found home survey'd. "This is a land of rare delights," said Sunbeam, as she glanced around; "Such stream- cleft vales and mossy heights can nowhere on the earth be found; But are we sure that we can gain a title to this Paradise '? Others no doubt have laid their claim — we cannot be the only wise." Time listened to his wife's address, and very sagely thus re- plied : "This is the land of happiness ; its rights to none can be de- nied; The good of every land may come and claim a right on its domain. But guilt can never find a home ; the inire alone can entrance gain." Pale Twilight, daughter of the Moon, riding on the zephyrs came. And sleepy Night approaching soon bid every glow-w(irm raise his flame ; Tired Nature now soon sank in rest, while Vigils hung their lamps in space — The night owls then began their quest among the new incom- ing race. Aurora, harbinger of day, aroused the band with music rare ; The song birds tuned their morning lay and joy was present everywhere. They bathed them in the morning dews, from silvery streams their thirst allay'd. And Nectar, from the trees profuse, a banquet rare for each one made. BIRTH AND ADVENTURES OF SANTA CLAUS. 47 Such was the home of Santa Claus, from whence the friend of childhood came ; 'Twas here he framed his changeless laws and hei'e began his deathless fame ; His workshops here in sylvan dells surrounded by an elfin band ; Here friendly fairies worked their spells and spread their joys throughout the land. The clefted rocks on the mountain side had left a league of mossy land Through which the silvery streamlets glide, with trees and shrubs on every hand ; Now Santa Claus the land survey'd, before his parents laid his plan, And elfs and fays his word obey'd, and now his life-long work began ; Nor axe nor plane, nor saw nor spade, nor too! of any kind had they. He therefore sought the fairies' aid, and his request before them lay. The fairy queen her promise gave that all his needs would be supplied ; "We'll bear thee to the giant's cave — naught that thou wish shall be denied." They led him through a cavern deep, where glow-worm lamps were spread around. And there the giant fast asleep was quickly by the fairies bound ; His axe and spear were at his feet, and all his tools about him lay, With these they made a safe retreat and sought once more the open day. They hied them to their chosen glade and there a solera coun- cil held, And all their future plans were laid, and marked the trees that should be fell'd. Up through the vale with ponderous tread they quick beheld the giant's form, The elfs and fays in terror sped, but naught could Santa Claus alarm ; 48 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. He on the fairy queen relied, who promised ever to defend, And when the giant he espied, he called upon his fairy friend. As quick as thought the fairy came and smote the giant as he stood ; He fell beneath her faultless aim, and rising sought the dis- tant wood. "Stay, tyrant, stay," the fairy cried; " look in the stream — thy horns survey ! A reindeer now on the mountain side, our Santa Claus thou shalt obey." They plucked the fronds of maiden hair and wove a girth and bridle strong. And led him to a new-made lair form'd by the elfins' busy throng. Their labors now they could pursue, quite heedless of the giant's Avill — A happier band none ever knew, nor purer hearts could pleasure thrill. . So deftly every hand was plied in weaving moss with maiden hair ; From this their garments were supplied and all their hang- ings rich and rare. With ivy strands from tree to tree and trailing woodbines trellised o'er. A prettier home you could not see — no human heart could wish for more. Nor wonder now that Santa Claus should with his labor be inspired ; With elfs and fairies in his cause he'd make what every child desired ; He cleft his wood in every form, and toys beneath his fingers grew. And colors every eye to charm from wings of butterflies he drew. The fairies always paint the toys, the elfs the whips and whistles make — The elfs, you know, are fairy boys, that's why they this position take. BIRTH AND ADVENTURES OF SANTA CL,AUS. 49 Now, when the toys were all prepared, close packed in pack- ages they lay, And all who in the labors shared began to look for Christ- mas-day. Then Santa Claus began to build a sleigh of mountain ash and oak, And every heart with wonder fiU'd as fell his axe with measured stroke. Fairies nor elfs could give their aid in labor such as now was needed, So a visit to the reindeer paid, anxious to know how he suc- ceeded. He toss'd his head in haughty pride as though he knew his wond'rous change. And had he not been safely tied he would across the moun- tains range. Now Santa Claus, his sleigh completed, with all the trap- pings tight and trim, And fays and fairies soon were seated, determined they would ride with him. The reindeer pranced while Santa Claus affixed the traces to the sleigh. Then started off without a pause, and o'er the mountains bent his way. O'er hills and vales, with lightning speed, the reindeer drew his load with ease, And all the elfin band agreed that they the fairy queen would please. And now they turned, their home to reach, all gladdened with their first attempt ; Determined now the world to teach that youth should be from cares exempt ; And Santa Claus agreed to do whate'er the faries should pro- claim ; Then they a solemn contract drew and Santa Claus affix'd his name : 50 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. "I, Santa Claus, do here declare that I will make all sorts of toys And spread them broadcast everywhere at Christmas-tide among the boys ; The girls shall have their skipping ropes, their cradles and all sorts of dolls, And bows and ties and scented soaps and croquet sets and tennis balls ; With reindeer speed at night I'll come and drop my presents down the flue, Then hie me back to my Northland home, and every year my ride renew." Now Christmas-tide being near at hand, the fairy queen his workshop sought, Where Santa Claus and his elfin band the labors of the year had brought, " I sought thee here," the fairy cried, " to place this charm upon thy breast. That when thou goest upon thy ride, thy every moment shall be blest ; Fear not the rugged cliff nor vale, but press thee on with lightning speed ; Against this charm naught can prevail, and joy shall crown thy every deed." And now they formed a fairy ring while Santa Claus pre- pared his sleigh ; Anxious, his airy flight to wing, the reindeer stood in trap- pings gay ; The sleigh bells breathed their silvery notes and echo caught the magic sound ; An elfin shout from a thousand throats, rang through the hills and vales around ; But naught could stay his onward flight, for Christmas eve was close at hand. And all his presents, on that night, must be delivered through the land. .,/yfi^^^ ^ '.'/'; •'••■■■•■^•7 :? "The rosy faced boy, sent early to school, His satchel lays down to slide on the pool, Quite heedless ot tasks to be done." WINTER. 51 Winter. [Written in London, ]8t)2, during a severe winter, when tliousands were starving.] BOREAS now rides on the gray, cold clouds; Pale Phcebus is wrapt in the twining shrouds Of Winter's relentless weaving. To the frescoed porch and the ivied eaves, To the evergreen shrubs and their burden'd leaves, The glistening icicle 's cleaving. The trees seem to mourn their vestures of white, And robin in vain seeks a place to alight — The earth-worm to pluck for a meal. The velvet piled green now cracks 'neath our feet; The swamp covei-ed meadows the skaters now greet — One pleasure of winter to feel. The rosy faced boy, sent early to school, His satchel lays down to slide on the pool. Quite heedless of tasks to be done ; The fast falling snow now fills him with glee, Tho' swollen his hands, light hearted and free, He joins in the snow-balling fun. My lady looks out from her damask'd cloth'd panes, My lord with his gun scours mountains and plains, For winter brings pleasure to them ; 'Tis theirs not to feel the season's rough course — The tempest may roar, but spent is its force On the labor bound portion of men. Our shops may be stored for the feasts of the few. But Christmas his sorrows will ever bestrew. While revelry seems to abound. Our rivers are block'd and clos'd are our wharves, The laborer begs or his family starves, As surely as winter comes round. 52 POliiMS OF TWO WORLDS. The pale faced mechanic now grieves for his boy, Wlio clamours for bread throusjh the lack of employ, Which vainly he seeks to obtain; llis daughter and wife, with needle and thread, O'er mantle or shirt now plies for their bread, A pauperized pittance to gain. M Mount Congreve. AN AC HOST I C. USE of Ossiaii, lend thine aid! Wander with me through the glade, O'er these woods and streams preside, Call (he naiads to my side. Up from out these fairy dells, Hid the wood-nymphs weave their sj^ells. Now let fair Echo ruU' tbe gh'ii, And Orpheus tune his pipes again. That every hill and every tree Resound tlu' fairy minstrelsy. Come around the beech-tree hill, Where blooms the modest daffodil. O'er my lyre thy fingers trace, And sing its beauties and its grace ; Nature here her bampuU spread. When the gods from heaven were led. Groves of nectar-dripping trees Supplied their feasting revelries ; Kouml the river's margin'd side. Where the Suir's sweet waters glide, Each evening sun unveils her breast. And sinks on Congreve's lap to rest. Vesper notes from rustling leaves Are boriu^ upon each passing breeze ; E'en night forgets his gloom to spread O'er Congreve's still, sequestered bed. THE ICLFIN (JIvADlC. 53 The Elfin Glade. A RKVKKIK. [Written at Excelsior Spring's, Mo.] I'LL hie rue to the Elfin glade, Where flows the Fishing River, And there beneath the elm trees' shade The cares of life will sevcir. The toil and din of city life, I'll banish for a season, And once forget the wiles and strife That warp the trader's reason. The stories of my childhood days Around my l)rain will hover, While Ariel sprites through fancy's maze Will backward bring my lover. With joy I'll pace the sylvan dell. Where the snake-like rootlets climb, And o'er again my love talcs tell, As back in my youth's young prime. The fairy rings by rootlets formed, Will chain my mind forever. And e'en forget how fortune stormed When she our loves did sever. 'Twas 'neath such stately elms as these My love's first hopes were spoken. And backward now my memory flees. E'en tho' her vows were broken. With rope-like stems and trellis'd strands With weird fantastic twinings, Beseems the work of fairy hands, And elfin king's designings. 54 POEMS OF TWO "WORLDS. Oh, that the human heart was true As are the elm branch twinings, The love of years would e'er bo new, Bereft of sorrow's pinings. Though time hath clothed my wrinkled brow AVith whitened locks dishevel'd, I fain would seek that valley now. Where in my youth T revel'd. That cannot be — but I will seek Missouri's wond'rous stream, Where one and all alike bespeak The home of our life's young dream. The ancient sire and aged dame. Or earth's fair sons and daughters, May life prolong and health reclaim Through Regent's magic waters. From out a shady winding dell These wond'rous t^prings are welling, No pen can write nor tongue can tell How hearts with joy are swelling. Disease in all its varied forms, Presaging death and son-ow. Must yield to Regent AVater's charms, And joy and peace will follow. THE AGNOSTIC. 55 The Agnostic. AN ACROSTIC ON THOUGHT. L This was written after a debate on the subject of the sin against the Holy Ghost between the author and a Roman Catholic student named Henry John Edward Salmon, then living- at Cowes, on the Isle of Wight.] HOW vast the sphere of human thought, A boundless region undefined, Enveloped and with wonder fraught, Are all the workings of the mind. Nor can we tell from whence they spring ; That they exist is all we know. Ransomless our thoughts will cling, Tho' rapid as the winds they flow, Yet while we watch the seasons roll Each year discloses to our gaze, Journeying onward to its goal, Some noble mind that claimed our praise. Oh, could I soar that vaulted dome, Wherein they tell me spirits dwell. How gladly would I seek that home ; But 'gainst such things my thoughts rebel. Ne'er say again that guilty I Before a throne must some day stand Expectant in some hell to lie For thoughts o'er which I'd no command. Did my rude thoughts to me disclose The dwelling of a spirit God Where natureless I could repose Beyond the limits of the sod? All my actions pure and holy Ever in His sight should be, Restless till I'd reach that glory, There from cares and sorrow free, Doom'd by fate the thought to cherish That thtre is naught beyond the grave, Shall my poor form in torment perish, Or in a fiery ocean lave. 56 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Ah, be there God, my heart can tell, I can nor shape nor figure give. Lo, would I seek, but thoughts rebel, Nor spirit with my mind can live ; My mind can never soar beyond The limits of this earthly sphere. On Nature's works I'd raise a song, For they to me are ever dear. Nor will I fail while traveling on To shun the bad and good revere. Cares are Weeds. CARES are weeds in nature's garden, Mingling with the fruits of life ; Laid in ambush for the conflict, Soldiers, born of human strife. All the joys of earth and heaven. Catch the shadows of their cares ; Rest is found not in the gloaming. Till the corn uproots the tares ; And the midday sun of progress. Rise above us unawares. All the teachings of the ages. Prove the spirit life of mortals ; Never dying, ever changing Through our life's e'er changing portals ; Now the earth- life with its anguish. Crush the good from out the soul ; Envy, spleen and passion's breathings Bid us seek our spirit's goal. MY CHILDHOODS HOME. 57 My Childhood's Home. COULD I back to the home of my childhood repair, And again hear the music that floats on the air ; Hear the sound of the billows that roll o'er the beach, Lock'd in by the mountain, far as vision can reach ; Again from the valley climb up o'er the hill, Inspired by the thoughts which my memories thrill ; Repeat in my fancies, all the joys of my youth ; Call back all the heart-throbs ever deathless as truth ; Let Nelson's high column looking out o'er the sea Enwrap me with pleasures long banished from me ; Even though my possessions may shield me from care. Sunny Hampshire to thee I would gladly rej)air. Remote though the time when my cousins and I Roamed out o'er the strand while the vessels sailed by ; I see in my fancy the fishermen still, Inspecting their nets at the foot of the hill. Valley, mountain and meadow, bestrewn with their flowers, Veiled the shadows of life from youth's happy hours ; E'en though when I left for my now foster home Earth sought my loved cousin and claimed him her own. Remembrance aback to my childhood retui-ns, Roda's sweet breath from her kisses still burns Sweet as the dewdrops which the meadows bestrew, Soft kissing the flowers in spring time anew. Bear me back in my dreams o'er the billowy deep, Breathe the voices of friends midst the silence of sleep; Recall the broad landscape o'er which I would roam, Repeat all the joys of my youth's early home. Out over the waters the sweet isle of Wight, On the bosom of ocean looms up to the sight ; Old Thistlewaite's Halls through England renowned ; On Portsmouth and Southsea my visions seem bound. Kindly dear Nature to thee I appeal, Keep constant the visions my childhood reveal ; Earth and its bounties are nothing to me, Effaced from the thoughts of my home o'er the sea. 58 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. An Acrostic to William Gardiner. [A good man, a conBtant triend, but with unfortunate habits, who several years after the following' was written committed suicide on Far- mouth Sands.] WHENE'ER a man can boast his gold, He no lack of friends will find ; If on life's stage dull scenes unfold, Gold will waft them to the wind. Let liberty — old England's pride — Further spread her sacred boon ; Let men of wealth no longer chide The man who share's misfortune's doom. Insatiate wealth, howe'er attained, Will find the vilest villain friends ; And honest poverty 's disdained, While want into a crime extends. Misfortune — curse of all mankind — Seldom comes if left unsought; Grief, poverty and woe, combined, Oft by men are dearly bought. And many have that secret found, But to know it was too late ; Reflection's voice, with maddening sound. Comes but to tell the wretch his fate. Desist from now the future ills That perchance your path may crop ; Imbibe no more the vice that fills The minds of men with loathsome dross. Nor word nor action can be found To find us friends if fortune fail ; Eternal griefs and woes resound. And yet no friends your lot bewail. Remember, while with fortune crown'd. The moral of my simple tale. ETERNITY. 59 Eternity. ETERNITY be thou my theme, Sole 'biding occupant of boundless space, Dar'd I to contemplate thy mien What vivid fancies would my pencil trace ; When thou were not, I dare not think, But that thou art, is graven on my soul, And oft on reason's very brink Alluring fancies do my sense control. Receding worlds now crowd my view, A pageant grand yet solemn to behold ; Deep contemplations range anew. O'er buried landscapes ; science doth unfold High mountain tops, and gorges deep ; What power could lift, or lower thee to thy place ; Oh, thou blue vault where vigils keep Their glittering watch throughout ethereal space, Lo, o'er thy vast empyrean sweep The footsteps of eternity we trace. Look on the sod, see how it yields To man and beast what they in nature crave ; And yet this drapery of the fields May be the atoms of some human grave. Now on the rugged cloud- capp'd peaks. Where carrion vultures find a safe retreat, Down in the ocean depths there sleeps Nations whose thoughts were but what we repeat. Time, sister of eternity. When thou thy mighty, matchless power unsheath, Heaps from the vale this mountain high, And at thy nod whole nations sink in death. Oh, that proud men should seek to hide Their weakness 'neath some philosophic lie ; Replete with seeming wisdom, chide Those who dare doubt their vague philosophy. 60 POEMS OF TWO WORIvDS. No single atom of this world Can lose its being in the universe Howe'er from place to j^Iace 'tis hurl'd ; Its laws are fixed and certain in their course. In the small stream, slow rippling by, In embryo we a mighty river see ; Lash'd by the waves now surging high. Some rock long crumbled into sands descry : Lo, here we catch one glimpse of thee, Thou strange, mysterious, dark eternity. Hope Against Fate. THE clock ticks on ; the wheels of time Wait not the sluggard's pace. For while they mourn their chances gone, The swift hath won the race. Why sit ye down and mourn your fate. The world is long and wide, And tho' each chance hath fail'd ye, Yet, another may be tried. A pebble in the streamlet's course; An opening in the sand. May guide the gushing rivulet Across the desert land ; Then there is wealth for all who try. No matter what their sphere ; With health and strength and God to guide, The weakest need not fear ; The selfsame sun that lights the King, Gives light to you and me. The ambient air, the rustling breeze. Alike to all are free. Then gird ye on with heart and hand. With work there's wealth in store; While cringing Fate slow lags behind, Bright Hope runs on before. ODE TO AMERICAN FEOUR. 61 Ode to American Flour. See Genesis 'T^HE evening siui the plains of Mamre spread, vCTs^s!^^'"^^ 1 Wb en unto Abraham three angels came. "Sarah," he cried, "go fetch the strangers bread," She brought the meal and quickly baked the same. See the last war in Macedon. But then the meal was coarse and rough and strong, The art of baking had not yet begun. To Roman zeal these rising arts belong When bakers' guilds throughout the empire sprung. See Genesis When Pharaoh's baker in his prison lay With Joseph bound by his relentless king, Did then his clear Egyptian modes display. From whence the art of baking thus did spring. See the war gut when the Roman chiefs from Macedon Macedon. Brought back to Rome the secrets of the trade, The modern art of baking was begun And bread from flour of Macedon was made. See Pliny on When Pompeii fell with lava beds o'erspread ; And flour and ovens in the scoria lay, Through centuries past, we still can see the bread As sweet and fresh as on that fatal day. America The Macedonian secret we've divined, world in flour. -A.nd brought to light the methods of the past. With chosen cereals now of every kind, We make a flour the world has ne'er surpassed. 62 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. [Note :— The following poem was written at Kansas City, Missouri, in com- memoration of the festival of Pallas Athena, which is given annually during- the month of October.] An Ode. TO PALLAS ATHENA, GODDESS OF ART AND INDUSTRY. WELCOME, Athena, to our city of the hills. Be thou defender of our citadels ; Light as of yore the regions of the skies, Expand thy arts through new industries. Light up the minds of our advancing race And bid Columbia from our city trace A band of men whose thoughts shall rule the world ; These men, thy Priests, their banners have unfurled. Thine was the light e'er Sun or Moon or Star Lit up the blazoning ether near and far. The universe was thine in which to play, Child of the Light and Goddess of the Day. As did the Romans visit at thy shrine. The honored pilgrims both of thee and thine, So shall our pilgrimage be bent to thee, Athena, Pallas, Goddess of the Free. Thy mother. Metis, swallowed by thy sire, Burst from his brain in intellectual fire. And thou, the child of Zeus, thus began To educate the shadowed brains of man. Hephsestion, Vulcan of the Ancient Greek, The skull of Zeus, split from cheek to cheek. Amidst the gods, on high Olympus then Pallas Athena bore the stamp of men ; 'Twas by thy touch the barren rocks did bear — To Attica their olives, rich and rare Food for the gods, and light for gloomy night Won to thyself the evidence of might. Thy temple still upon the crags of Greece To man discloses all the arts of peace. And we to-day, the Athens of the West, Do give thee welcome, and at thy behest AN ODE. 63 Have built a shrine on our acropolis, A beacon guide and harbinger of bliss. When from thy shrine our sages shall advance With wisdom, caught from thy embracing glance, Then from our vales the factory walls will rise And school and college prove our enterprise. But first to gain the value of thy light Are those whose orbs are weakening of their sight, To them thy bright Actinic rays will prove The deathless evidence of lasting love ; As on thy shield the slain Medusa's head Tells of thy conquest of the falling dead, So shall thy light unto the race unborn Prove to thoughtless men a constant thorn. But now we fain would ask why Neptune comes with thee ; Hast thou the circus of Flaminis been to see ? Or hast thou tarried in the temple standing by Where Neptunalia is rehearsed through each July ? If so, indeed, we're sorry for thy lack of sense To take a bastard Roman god as recompense. Thine Uncle Posiedon with Nereus should have come With all his fifty smiling daughters to our home ; Their leaping dolphin steeds with manes of shining gold. Whose opal diadems each Naiad brow enfold ; Then would the aim of our Missourian merchants be More truly pictured in thy Western revelry. Perhaps our seeming harsh critiques are in advance And that thou aimst our lagging city to advance. Thou might'st have meant our common council to re- place And show the monstrous boodling, board of works disgrace. Or seeking Hoover's tank of thrice-paid gasoline To show how half-dressed stones on our new courts are seen. 64 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. We know that honest men have vetoed many schemes And many itching palms have closed like morning dreams, Hadst thou thy kinsman brought, the " noble Hercules," Our Augean stables, then, their stench would soon release, And many constables fresh from felon's cell Would fall before the courts their blackmail tales to tell ; Nor drunken justice more would our fair courts dis- grace By selling at the bar his whiskers off his face.* No doubt thou'st heard of spreading grip-slots in our streets And man-traps on our avenues where death repeats The solemn, silent story of a neighbor dead. Through unfilled roadside ditch or cable-slot out-spread. This is the glorious privilege of being free — Free to accept what boodle aldermen decree. And yet we feel the adage of the world gone by — 'Twere better not by far o'er wasted milk to cry ; What is, is done, and we our wants and hopes have told With honest tongue and language free, tho' seeming bold. Then backward to the crags of Greece with lightning speed. And tell thy father, Zeus, of our nation's need. While we in turn will aid his constant sore distress, And o'er Olympian heights spread constant happiness. Take back the promised prize thou com'st so far to gain. Wherewith thy honored sire may banish all his pain. Our famed city, then, with all its glories spread. And Greece once more revive the memories of its dead. Farewell once more, loved Goddess of Land and Sea, And when next year thou comest we'll greet thee merrily. * It is a fact that a drunken justice did sell for whiskey the whiskers off his face. This was at the time a joke in every bar-room in the neighborhood. THE PROMISES OF SPRING. 65 The Promises of Spring. MAY-FLOWERS shall bloom amid the thorns, and all their fragrance shed; Field daisies, harbingers of Spring, our vernal fields o'er- spread ; And song birds tune their morning lays to form Aurora's choir ; Entrancing music of the spheres, their varied notes inspire. Replete with joy from Winter's gloom, we'll meet the glad- some Sj^ring, Laughing at care and sorrows past, a life of hope begin ; Young hearts shall leap like sun-warmed buds, beneath ceru lean skies ; Impassioned love on angel wings, shall speed their des- tinies. Cold Winter's blast and gloomy Night must soon their cycles run ; Invidious Care shall hide his head from Laughter's romping son. And maiden Spring, midst blossoms rare, a "charming girl," will come. The sun-tipped waters of the vales, brushed by the perfumed breeze. Shall lure us to their moss-grown banks, midst pensive reveries. Hands locked in hands, with sunlit hearts, soul -'rapped within the dales, Heaven's foretaste of happiness, be told in lovers' tales. Olympian heights, where gods of yore attuned their harps in song. And fields Elysian — no more to mortal men belong. Revolving worlds must e'er maintain their journey 'mong the spheres ; Wisdom and love in sweet refrain, attune our passing years. New hopes and joys shall e'er arise, while truth our hearts control ; Eternal peace beyond the skies, awaits the truthful soul. 66 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Mother and Daughter. SEEKING A REUNION. HEARKEN to the angel music ; list to its seraphic tonea ; All the world is watching o'er our labors and our homes ; Not a thought or word is uttered but is registered forever ; Not a deed of guilt or kindness can we from our record sever ; As we fill our earthly mission, so our future home will be ; Heaven is every soul's belonging — Ave build our own eternity. Why should men be e'er repining, why not grasp the earth's delights ; Earth is paradise to all men who would give to each his rights ; Eternal joy is nature's birthright, with the music of the spheres ; Kindness are the angel vestments that beclothc our fleeting years ; Sin too often ope's the fountain of our sorrows and our tears. Every flower that decks the meadoM^s, every tree on mountain side, Lends its aid our lives to brighten, each a beacon and a guide ; Lost are they who ever mourning for the loved ones gone before, And forgetting how unbounding ai-e the memories in store. When from earth we join our loved ones, there to meet and part no more. Eternal hope should fill the breast, undying truth should mould the soul ; Earth's bounteous fruits are spread for all and heaven the haven and the goal ; Keep then thy heart on loved ones gone, and work a better world to leave ; Seek thou a sceptre and a crown and a spotless garment weave. MORAIv MUSINGS. 67 Moral Musings. HOPE for tlie better and work to the end, Make every effort mankind to defend ; All that's within us our actions should show A spirit of love mongst those that we know. Render to others the rights you demand, Unite and be men, true hearts to command. Vice overcometh when selfishness reigns ; Right rules triumphant o'er nature's domains ; Empires and Nations may rule for the day, Enrapturing success may lead us astray, Yet the near future beglimmers a light, Thinning the shadows, dissolving the night. And justice and law must rule for the right. Envy and malice may rancor within ; Lust and its evils may clothe us in sin ; Ubiquitous self may enter each soul, And charity cease the heart to control. God may be doubted his love to bestow ; Umbrage 'mongst mortals may constantly grow ; E'en kindred and friends their creeds may divide, Brother his brother may each one deride. No joy for this world, no hope in the spheres, An indwelling doubt may grow with our years. Empyrean light may never disclose Conceptions of God, in whom we repose — Heaven will e'er be a myth unto those. But few are the minds who look upon earth. Boundless in beauty and priceless in worth, Attempt to deny the fiat of God, Asserting His will through motionless sod. Revolving in space, in orbits unknown, Rending the heavens, are worlds like our own. 68 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. The atoms of suns the universe fill, Thus the creation can never stand still. Hearts may be mingled in hope and in love, Hearts may be severed on earth or above ; Only a sentence in anger expressed, Or one thoughtless word to loved ones address'd, Life-times of sorrow in many a home, Left its cold impress when loved ones would roam. Our words spoke in jest may shatter the life Of husband, or friend, or sister, or wife. May God in his might mould every soul, May men among men their passions control. Enjoin every heart that man never dies. Evolved from the earth to dwell in the skies, Where lov'd ones shall meet in realms of the blest, When death calls us hence with spirits to rest. CORRECT ORTHOEPY. 69 Correct Orthoepy. EDWARD B, WAEMAN, B. A. DOUBLE ACKOSTIC. COUNT not the power of language or thought, Expressed in an unpolished tone. Our measures of force, by methods are wrought, Drawn not from the subject alone. Respect for the sense of the thought in review, Will cause you its force to maintain ; Refinement will then every study bestrew, And speech all its beauty attain. Engrave on your mind the factors of sound ; Refer every woi-d to the ear ; Cull figures of speech neither coarse nor profound ; Do not as a pedant appear. Then will the power of each sentence be felt, By all whom your language shall hear. Out from the atoms evolved from the brain. We mould every sound we desire ; Responsive to will, every effort's a gain, And Orthoepy all can acquire. That thought is creative all nature proclaims, Reviled though the statement may be ; Held in the realm of the magnet's domains, Mind, matter and thought we can see. Our organs of sense in number have grown. And the magnet — the sense of the soul — Evolves through the mind that thought may be shown, Nearing life to its ultimate goal. Preserve in your thought the right rulings of speech. And mould every sense to its law. Your aim e'er should be a perfection to reach, Making sure of your hearers' eclat. [This was written at the request of E. B. Warman, the author of "War- man's Correct Orthoepy."] 70 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. To Edgar Allen Poe. DOUBLE ACROSTIC. E'EN as the Greeks a fabled Homer claimed, Erin hath e'er her mystic Ossian famed ; Depicting each, in mythologic phrase, Disastrous strife or measured roundelays, God-given poesy of love and worth Waited the Soul of Poe to give it birth ; And he, the child of care, his mission filled. And nations' hearts his magic numbers thrilled. Remorseless critics, jealous of his fame. Rumored their lies and smirched his deathless name. An adverse fortune lent its cruel aid, Deepening the charge upon his shoulders laid. Let venomed hearts pour out their vials of gall, Bid coward tongues the rights of truth enthrall. Let lying scribblers blot his deathless page, While yet his foes a shameless battle wage, ^olian harps, from angel hands, will sound An anthem through the world's remotest bound. Nations unborn their paeons will rehearse. Replete in praise of Poe's unequaled verse. Pour out their souls in heav'n dictated song, Make mountains echo all the vales along ; Olympian music, from the distant spheres. Attune his poems through recurring years. E'en though maligned by Griswold's false memoir, New friends will stay his foes' relentless war. Chicago^ July Jfth, 1889. [The above poem was suggested to the author on reading the advance sheets of Prof. Warman's hook (then in press) entitled "Critical Analysis of Poe's 'Raven,' and Memoir of Poe."] THE WOODMAN'S WEI/COME." 71 "The Woodman's Welcome." DOUBLE ACROSTIC. TAKE thee a seat, my Neighbor and my friend. Join our repast, tho' humble it may be ; Here our Camp-fire its genial warmth will lend ; Our hearts with thine shall beat in unity. Earth yields its fruits to labor's honest toil ; Sweet is the sleep which conscious duties bring; Man's life depends upon the well till'd soil, E'en tho' our cities magic-like may spring. Our own strong arms the Axe and Beetle wield. Plows the cleared land in valley and in lea, Drives the hard wedge while crackling timbers yield. Heaves the gnarled roots and leaves the woodland free. Ennobling thought that ruled our Consul's breast. Culled from his soul our Order's holy cause, Retrieved the thoughtless from their wild unrest. Upheld the good and framed the Woodmen's laws. No ancient Woodman in the misty past Left for our guide such pure or noble code — We welcome all where'er their lot be cast ; Leave not the cottage for the rich abode, Out o'er the States the Woodmen's Camp-fires glow ; Envy nor hate their onward march can stay, Our Echo's notes in cheerful cadence flow Noting the Woodmen's growth from day to day. Dear to our hearts are those we learn to love ; Round failing Neighbors the Woodmen's arms are twined Made one in soul as through the world we move. Onward we press, nor leave the weak behind. E'en tho' black pebbles in our Ui'ns be cast. Our neighbor's cares shall be our own to bear. Neglecting none ; in future as in past The good of all shall be our constant care. 72 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Our aims are one, our heartfelt hopes couihiue Hope not lor self but for our Neighbor's weal, Fresh joys will rise when hearts with hearts entwine, fi^uvy must die, and Love her powers reveal. And every Camp-tire kindled to the wind A glowing tribute to our Consul pays; Men yet unborn will mark his Master mind, Devoted Woodmen sing his deathless praise. Ereet an altar in the hearts of men, Cloak not the fact that Root, the truly good, Reaps but his own, the wage of brain and pen, Our Order strong (but by his labor stood). In him behold the Patriot and the Man, Nor cease your aid the Order to extend Camp-fires ignite and do whate'er you can, Speed the good work, make Neighbors of each friend. An Axe and Beetle and a Wedge provide, Uproot the Tares of Envy and of Pride, Let Woodcraft spread its blessings far and wide. [This acrostic was written at tho rociuost of tlu> publlshor of tho Echo, tlio orsan of tho Modern American Woodmen, whoso founder was Josepli Cullon Root, who became Its first Consul, to whom the poem was ascribed.] IN LONDON. 73 [This poem was written in the city of London, in the year 1873, the motive being- to show the serious and comic side of London life to the author's father, to whom he was writing, and in a facetious mood penned the poem as a letter.] In London. You think of coming up to town, The city of such great renown, Where near four millions congregate, From highest down to lowest state, In busy, bustling London. Procure a map, ere you leave home — Your destination be it known — Peruse it well that you may trace Thereon your destin'd lodging place. In busy, bustling London. At Paddington you'll first arrive, With cab and 'bus men all alive. Honest some, but many a knave Will strive your patronage to crave, And swindle you in London. Now, if a cab or 'bus you take, The charge first know, or bargain make, Or they'll perhaps exceed their fare And swindle when you are not aware — They do such things in London. The miles, one hundred and a score, A journey you ne'er faced before ; Midst change of air and change of scene, Good appetite will intervene. When you arrive in London. Here gaudy gin shops meet your view. And reeking cook shops, not a few, Real mysteries these of food and drink — Before you use them stop and think Of what's consumed in London, 74 POEMS OF TWO WORI^DS. J*riiiu' veal tliat died before 'twas killed, Mongst savory force meats here rcveal'd, And savisage rolls and Mobray pies, WIkmo, neath the crust, a mystery lies, In tlie public bars of London. Your boots arc dirty, make a stand, A shoe- black's bore at your command, A penny is their legal charge ; And here an institution large Have these shoe-blacks in London. But who they are none scarce can tell Save that misfortune them befell. And pity found tliem in the street And took them to a safe retreat, The Boys' Refuge in London. The victims of illegal lust, ITpon the world untimely thrust ; Or by their parents cruelly left, As Arabs, living but by theft, U[)on the streets of London. But now reclaimed, they seek to give Their labor for the means to live, And they, some day, may prove to be Good members of society, And citizens of London. You've left your gardens far behind. And country scenes to bear in mind, Here comes a girl from whom you may Procure a neatly-form'd bouquet — She's the flower girl of London. ller slouching gail, disheveled hair. Too plainly tell the M^aiit of care That from a parent's heart should flow To rescue her, fast sinking low In the labyrinths of London. IN IvONDON. 75 But charity and love stand by, Who beckon, each with tearful eye, And her frail compeerH, day by day, Are rcHcued from their downward way In black, vice- ridden London. 'Tis Sunday now ; we'll to St. Paul's, Where every curious stranger calls. Its unmatclied architecture see Displayed in massive masonry — The noblest work in London. Here comes a gilded coach and four, And coachman deck'd in lace galore, The mayor of London sits within — Midst all this pomp, he seeks his sin To wash away in London. While some poor wretch without the gate, Half conscious, looks upon the state And pompous show the flunkeys play, Who guide their master on his way When going to church in London. What means this bustle in the crowd. And voice vehement raised aloud, And piteous whines as from a child. That rises now in accents wild ? 'Tis a beggar seized in London. A mother and her starving boy, Their time that morning did employ, In selling matches or fusees Their famish'd hunger to apitease, Midsl, all tliis wctallh in London. And this is Christian liberty — That proudly boasts that all are free. Where men in church call each his brother. But outside trample one another. And light for place in London. 76 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Through Cheapside on through Fenchurch street, Where we the London Hebrews meet ; The Christian's Sabbath they ignore, And trade and traffic with the poor In Petticoat Lane in London. A stranger would not half believe, Nor could his senses e'er conceive The sights, if he should enter where The Hebrews hold their Sunday fair In Petticoat Lane in London. Here are clothes of every shape and make, To suit the sober and the rake. And gaudy ties and patent boots. Or workmen's day and Sunday suits. In Petticoat Lane in London. Anchors here at your command ; Coffins new and second-hand ; Dogs' houses, pigeon cotes and cages, And literature of ancient sages, In Petticoat Lane in London. Now let us take a two-penny 'bus, Get on the top, nor make a fuss If some foul fish-fag sit beside, And claim the right with you to ride Along the streets of London. We'll drive away to Rotten Row, The two extremes of life to show. For here is fashion on parade. As if the world for it was made — The Upper Ten of London. Flunkies here in powder'd hair. Trim booted grooms without compare, Their lords and ladies here attend, Whose bearing none can comprehend Save those who've lived in Loudon. IN I^ONDON. 77 Here's many a dame in silks bedight, Attended by a gallant knight, Whose bearing doth at once unfold The game he plays is but for gold, In Rotten Row in London. The Serpentine here meets your view, Where boating, fishing, skating, too. Meet pleasures for the rich supply. While poverty stands silent by. Midst all this wealth in London. Your not being school'd to scenes like these May bid you leave the boundaries Where brainless wealth in wanton pride From honest worth will turn aside. And snub you when in London. From Hyde Park now, across St. James, Where the queen in Buckingham Palace reigns, By soldiers watched within and out. Not daring e'er to walk about, In quietude in London. Her servant girls and stable boys May drink in London's mirth and joys ; A prisoner, she, midst gilded walls, Subservient to the becks and calls Of toadying knaves in London. The criminal lock'd in his cell, At Millbank or at Clerkenwell, Is not more guarded than the queen, For rare indeed can she be seen By the populace of London. From Birdcage walk through George's street, Westminster Abbey we shall meet — In cloistered crypts the shadows fall On graven tablets that extol The dead of ancient London. 78 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Some C'cnotaphs were won by fame, While others can but point the shame Of rt\i>al ])rosti(iiit('s mikI kings, That backward sad'ning tneniovy brings Of wanton life in London. Hut let's away from sights like tlicse And seek Ihe heai't and brain to please : WcMl go at once to Charing Cross, Nor for the Horse Guards care a toss. But seek high art in lioudon. Trafalgar Square, by fountains graced, Has at its head a gallery placed, Where i)aintings on a hundred walls The genius of the painter falls, To please progressive London. THE CRY OF CONSCIENCE. 79 The Cry of Conscience. WHILE the thoughts of men are wandering, Calmly through the darken'd past, In the mazes of conjecture, Listless of their shadows cast, Listless to the cry of conscience. And the cravings of the soul, Daring death, but ever trembling. Reasoning 'gainst the spirit's goal. And the power of God's control. Judging others by their actions. As they feel so others must ; Only heedful of their longings. Never dare another trust. Heaven to such is but a phantom. Naught to warrant a desire, Naught to kindle love within them, Earth is all they can acquire. May the spirits hover o'er thee, Kindling holy thoughts within ; O'er the quicksands of thy journey. Enter Heaven, freed from sin. Reckless tho' thy early life-time, Near'd thee to the dark abyss. Guarded from the Tempter's teraptings. Inborn goodness won the bliss. And to-day, in face of Heaven, Seek the right and wrong defy ; Never falter on life's pathway, Only seek a home on high — Ne'er to suffer, ne'er to die. 80 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. The Nations' Fair. SEND your proud message through the world ; Chicago hokis the Fair, Nor keep her banner longer furled, but flaunt it to the air. A tribute to her foster son, four hundred years denied; Kings, queens and princes, one by one, reaped the spoils for which he died. Now let Colombo's honor'd name, on our city arms be shown; Freedom demands his deathless fame, should be to the nations known ; Then build a temple in the west and worship at his shrine. And keep his memory in your breast who track'd this land of thine. A nation's hope born of his will — America the free; In valley or on moss-grown hill; o'er plain or inland sea, Columbus is our patron saint, if patron saint there be, Rebellious hearts alone can taint the thought of such decree. Let us a worthy mart prepare for the handiwork of man ; By one accord do each his share, do each whate'er you can. America's but yet a child, midst nations of the earth — A nation born of toiling men whose prestige proves their worth ; Unite in one accord to give a welcome e'en to kings, Nor fear in foreign hearts to live, but seek their offerings ; Seek to unite the nations' minds in spite of caste or creeds ; Keej) e'er in view the thought that binds, is a toiling nation's needs. Send out your couriers far and wide, and every heart en- thrill. And every man rise in his pride and show the nation's will; Our old friend, Santa Claus, will come with his load of soap and toys, Come boldly out from his winter home to greet his noble boys: THE HOME OF MY YOUTH. 81 And they in turn will welcome him for youth's remember'd joys. Open at once your purses wide, and prove your native worth ; Prove that Chicago, in her pride, to the Nations' Fair gave birth. The Home of My Youth. FAR away in the valley the old cottage stands, With its rudely thatched roof and its moss covered eaves ; Where the old ivy clings with its sinewy hands. And the jasamine twines round its time honored leaves. 'Twas there that the days of my childhood were spent ; Where I roamed in the woods in the earliest spring, To pluck the first violets that nature had sent. When with joy I leapt home the sweet trophy to bring. It was there that I watch'd for the feathery throng, That throughout the dark winter had wander'd away. When I drank in the music that flowed from their song. Till the nightingale's note would forbid me to stay. How oft have I sat on the bank's mossy side. Till twilight her mantle had thrown o'er the scene ; When zephyrs, balm-laden, serenely would glide, And carry the cuckoo's note over the green. No more can I gaze on such beauties as these ; The cuckoo's weak note will not echo for me ; No more do the zephyrs soft fanning the trees Bear on the sweet music the songs of the free. Oh, could I but choose from the city to roam, Where falsehood and ci'ime overshadow the truth, How gladly I'd turn to my dear village home. The thatch'd covered cottage which sheltered my youth. 82 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. A Mother's Dream of Hope of a Child IN Heaven. M ANY years have come and sped, many loved ones have departed. And the cold world called thee dead, e'en the truly tender- hearted, Round my heart thy love-light gleams as bright to-day as in the past, Years of waiting are but dreams, from which I must awake at last. Joys and sorrows here below are but the lights and shades of life On the canvas moving slow, picturing scenes of love and strife. Still the picture crowds my brain and fills my soul with calm delight. Empyrean music's magic strain still cheers me on through nature's night ; Parted but by God's decree, borne to realms of endless bliss, Heavenly hosts awaited thee from out this sin-bound wilder- ness ; Indian vestments once adorning thy fairy form with magic grace. Now reflects thy young life's morning, again recalls thy heaven- lit face. Earth restored thee in the dawning and with the seraphs found thy place, Mary, when the Savior's voice echoes through the spheres for me. Come and clasp thy hands in mine, lead me o'er the jasper sea. ACROSTIC TO TWO CHILDREN. 83 Death is but a change of form, but our lives that form decide, Upward then my beating heart seeks a home with thee to bide, Fleeting breaths our cheeks are fanning here to-day, to-mor- row gone, Friendship moves like meteors, through the star-depths on and on. Enrapturing Hope now fills my soul and my heart still yearns for thee, Ecstatic joys my vision sees when we shall meet eternally. Acrostic to Two Children OF MR. AND MRS. BRUSH OF CHICAGO. LEAST and last of all the Brushes, bonny little Lynn, You to-day would play usurper and our loves would win ; Nothing loth we give thee greeting, Hail thee! child of joy, Not a heart throb less is beating for Baby Warren boy. Both young souls are ours to cherish, both our cares will claim; Round our hearts the love-tie lingers, ne'er to part again Until Jesus bids you follow His immortal train. Still ourhopes would hold ye with us through oixr lives on earth, Heavenward seeking rest eternal, in our second birth. Buoyant Baby Warren, sweet roystering child of nature, All the world's before thee, tho' listless of thy future. But thy childhood rompings shall be like zephyrs moving Yonder budding leaflets, nor friend nor foe reproving. When winter's storms approach, or the summer's scorching sun Attack thy young life's being, as the seasons onward run. Repeating cares and joys may mingle peace and strife ; Revokeless Truth will mark every moment of thy life. Entered on the page of time, a candidate for fame. Ne'er let thy acts nor words incline to mar thy kindred's name. 84 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Eternal Marriage. JOSEPH from thy spirit home let me catch thy smile again; Even breathe me words of hope and thy conscious love maintain; Out from Heaven's canopy watch thy young life's love once more. Unto her whose trust was thine when thou trod'st this earthly shore, Send thy message in the morning, smooth her pillow when she sleeps ; Note her heart-beats in the noonday, hear her praj^cr when twilight creeps. Earth but claimed her for a purpose fix'd by God in His decree ; In the nearing look'd for Heaven she again will cling to thee ; Place thy spirit hand upon her, bid her feel thy presence near; Calm the heart-throbs oft arising, bid her hope and never fear; Heaven's reunion soon must come, hearts and hands will join forever; Earthly duties being ended we shall live and love together; Lock'd in Jesus' broad embrace nothing then our hearts can sever. Mortal life was ever heaven since we trod the mountain side. Meeting in the Vermont valleys, wandering o'er the prairies wide, City life with all its toiling found two hearts forever one; Cares and sorrows each dividing, each the other's will hath done. Death his icy hand uplifted and it fell upon thy brow; Death to me will be my springtime, grant, oh! God, that time were now. ETEKNAIv MARRIAGE. 85 Under Saratoga'^ nod thou laidnt thy tcjil worn body down; Unto Christ tliy H|)irlt fled when Ifo ohiirruMl tlicM; aH Ilin own. Fricndw of thine; and mine an; round rn(;, frieiidH thine own lieart made for me ; FriendH who wait the Saviour'H HummonH fifMu the earth to dwell wltli thee. Fancy backward flies to girlhood when (Im; world w.w all before uh; Future then wan but a Hha(b>w, hope and love a changing choruH; Entering then on life'H long battle, arnifH- girni was s})read, Enough that they knew of their bane. Dear to our hearts are the memories of youth, Memories our souls will enthrall. Ubiquitous spleen ami sorrow, forsi>t)th. E'en then our enjoyments will ])all. Repeated ihrough life where'er we are found, Revileiuents that others have borne, Are shadows that vex the poor and uncrown'd llemorsclcss of hearts that are torn. Life is a meteor flashed through the spheres In i(/ni{<-f(ftt(tts shinings Darkened by shadows in youth and in years And bound by Sorn)w's cutwiuings, Measuring its p.assage in tears. Heaven's high attributes bind us to earth, Hope through its labyrinths twining — A Imven of rest, as measured by worth. Awaits on our soul's designing. Venality binds in chains of despair Virtues, the mati«>ns are seeking — Envy and Malice for truths never care, Kach fiU" itself ever speaking. Nature tiuit's vile plants in every breast Negations of justice to men — Sueh are the shadows that make our unrest. Such was, and sucli will be again. HEAVEN ON EARTH. 87 Heaven on Earth. HAST thou pledged thy houI to God'r' DoHt thou feel His love within? Art thou by IIIh guiding rod Fleeing from the paths of sin? Truth and love around thee dwell ; Peaceful paths are thine to tread ; Thine the joys of fate to tell, Out from sorrow's pathway led. In the fitful [)aths of life, Ever ends the morning dawn ; E'er with sudden changes rife, Nature's winding sheet is drawn. Make thee, then, this life a heaven ; Be to thyself a constant law ; And make thy modes of life the leaven, Forever holding God in awe. Rest thee not from self's well doing ; Strive to leave a world behind Inly better for thy wooing. Live to love and bless mankind. And when earthly cares are ended, When the Father calls thee hence, Nothing leave to be defended, 'Gainst a heaven-won competence. In this jealous world of mortals. Self is ever blind to woe ; Crime bestrides the heavenly portals. Whence the sin-wash'd soul would go. Health and peace and joy be given. Unto thee through life's long days ; On thy head may songs of heaven. Ever spread their roundelays. Live thy life on earth jjelow, A spotless robe and crown to gain ; Seraphic bliss thou then shalt know, Free'd from blighting mark of Cain. POEMS OF TWO WORIvDS. The Laborer's Appeal to God. GOD of Nations, let thy blessing Enter every home to-day ; Enter all the hearts of tyrants ; Let their gold no more betray ; Onward, upward through the decades, Steel our hearts to brave the fight ; And vouchsafe us our belongings ; In the battle for the right. Envy dim, and love enlight. Pour thy sunshine on our night. Search the hearts of thoughtless traders, Speak thy power of truth to them; Calm their passions, stay their venom, That would crush their fellow men ; Hope is dead among the masses ; Every thought of peace is dying ; In our palace- burden'd cities, Vice and want are ever lying ; Long and weary hours of labor ; Empty stoves and cupboards find; Love and home is chill'd and darken'd ; Nature seems accursed and blind ; Is it true, that thou hast power. Sorrowing hearts and souls to save? Noting all the world's surroundings, When and what our natures crave ; Grant us then thy promised blessing. Ere we fill a pauper's grave. TRIAL OP MEDICINE. 89 Trial of Medicine for the Attempted Homicide of Humanitas. PART FIRST. Before their Honors, Chief Justice Ennui and Baron Skeptic. Counsel fob the Prosecution— Professor Galvani Electrosis, Sergeant Voltas Magneticum and Doctor Abstemia Hydropathi. The prisoner was defended by Hydrargyrum Allopathi, counsel to the Honorable Society of Annihilators, and Professor Herbarium Botanis, in- structed by Alcoholsis Tobacium, legal adviser to the prisoner. Libra Solidas Denarius watched the case on behalf of tlie County Com- missioners. The friends of the prisoner, feeling assured that the respectable position and the many services rendered to the community, among whom he had so long resided, would in this trying moment be all-sufflcient in the eyes of an educated jury to warrant his dismissal and honorable discharge, they bad, thi-ough his counsel, given the requisite notice for a "special jury." The fol- lowing gentlemen were therefore empanelled: 1. Hydrargyrum Creta. 7. Capsicum Annum. 3. PuLVis Ehei et Zingiber. 8. Lobelia Inflata. 3. TaraxicumPodophylli. 9. Capsul Papaveris. 4. Valeri Aconitum. 10. Infusium LupultCompositus. 5. Aqua Mentha PULUGiUM . 11. Vinus Spiritus Juniperi. 6. Balsamium Benzoni. 13. Eau de Vie Franc ais. Their Honors, having intimated their readiness to hear counsel in the case, and the Crier having given the usual caution of silence, Professor Galvani Electrosis delivered his address for the prosecution. ADDRESS FOR THE PROSECUTION. M Y Lords and Gentlemen of the Jury : 'Tis my most painful duty here to-day To lay before you every circumstance Of this man's crime and ultimate arrest. The source from which our information comes You'll find of such undoubted purity, So free from every kind of prejudice, That guilt will stand unveiled before your eyes. And though the prisoner be one of those Whose locks, now silver'd o'er with hoary age. Have kept from all whose lives he daily sought The secret of his most invidious will ; The babe who, prattling on its mother's knee, —7 90 POEMS OF TWO WORI.DS. In all the roseate hues of infant blood, Fell pale and wan where'er he forced his way, And crept through life in healthless misery ; The schoolboy, bounding o'er the distant hill, Unwary tript o'er some projecting rock, When Medicine, with seeming kindness, called On him to use his talismanic powers. The scholar's friends to usage bent their wills, And thus to custom gave what did belong To Nature and her mystic potencies — And aided thus this wily charlatan. Start not, my Lords, at what I shall declare Before those gentlemen into whose hands The scales of justice shall a while be placed, To watch the turning of the fickle beam, I'll call before your Lordships and the Court A dozen witnesses of this man's spleen ; Tear from his back the mantle of deceit. And show how crime can live in genteel dress. Yes, gentlemen, you and the Court will start When witness after witness shall unveil The prisoner's wily methods of deceit, By which he led his trusting victims on. They'll tell you how this man made desolate The Hearths and Homes of thousands of our race. To please the pampered few who hold the badge And tack against their names the prized M. D. I fain did hope, when first this brief I took, That half the rumored charge was built on lies ; Nor ever dreamt one-third the crimes declared Would find a pencil black enough to paint them. All my forensic skill cannot but pale Before the task my Client here hath set : E'en though I stript the rainbow from the clouds, I'd lack the colors of enormity; For he, by many blandishments endow'd, Hath oft deceived whole States and Governments, And nations have been made by law to bow LTnto his will and blighted purposes. TRIAL OF MEDICINE. 91 And now, my Lord, tho' he hath 'scaped so long And dared to live 'mongst people of repute, The time has come when justice shall be done ; And to that end I'll leave him in your hands. In this, my opening speech, I aimed to be As brief as would my subject well admit, Knowing full well each witness would disclose The long-kept secrets of this charlatan ; At present I shall therefore say no more, But call my witnesses before the court. Galvani : Call Tuberculous Hepatitis. Galvani : You are Tuberculous Hepatitis? Tuberculous : Yes, sir ; that is the name by which I'm known Among the members of the Faculty, Who, for some reason, pledged themselves to keep My name and character apart from those Who have not paid for privileged consonants Wherewith to form a tail-piece to their names. Chief Justice Ennui : You speak in riddles, sir ! What mean you, pray? Tuberculous : I beg, my Lord, your pardon if I do ; But I have only followed in the wake Of those who hold a license thus to call, By names mysterious to the plebeian horde, A common ailment known throughout the world — And more's the pity, oft by ignorance bred ; I am, my Lord, of whom you've often heard, Inflamed, ulcerated liver. Lord Chief Justice Ennui : Go on. ' Galvani : Now, tell their Lordships how you met this man ; The conversation that you held with him, And his reply and action in your house, And all the effects of his first interview. 92 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Hepatitis : My neighbor Lungs and I had fallen out, And he accused me of obstructing him In the discharge of his then occupation — The taking to and fro of atmosphere. Hydrargyrum : I hold, my Lord, this is not evidence. What have the quarrels of these men to do With what is charged against ray client here? I hold this statement quite irrelevant ; 'Tis inconsistent with the laws regime ; In fact, the leading up of evidence — Baron Skeptic : I think the witness should confine himself To the indictment against the prisoner. Galvani : I submit, my Lord, your Lordship's ruling. And will guard my client in his answers. Now, speak of nothing but what did occur Between this man, the prisoner, and yourself. Hepatitis : I told him the house in which I lived. Had, from some cause unknown to self and friends. Been so much shaken in the upper rooms. That my best lodger. Heart, refused to pay His usual tithe of labor for his home. Which he ere now had done most willingly. He looked around and felt each separate wall, And with a seeming satisfaction viewed The rents and tears that did disclose themselves, And told me that he would send his workmen in. I begg'd him not to detain me long. For I did fear the fabric would succumb. So shatter'd did it seem, I trembled much. When Blood, " my servant," coursed along the rooms. He told me of two workmen which he had, Hydrargyrum and one Taraxicum, And an apprentice named Podophylli. These had, he said, of late been much employed On shattered buildings, such as that of mine. On this advice I bid him send them in. TRIAL, OF MEDICINB. 93 That they the reparation might begin. The workmen, when they came, I recognized As having met them many a time before. Even from my youth, Hydrargyrum I knew, Who for companion then one Creta had ; But, by the advice of one Botanis, My parents did forbid his company ; But thinking now that age had made him wise, I bade him and his fellows use their skill. VoLTA MagjSeticum : But did you not apply for other aid in a dilemma of so grave a kind? Hepatitis : I did so to one named Allopath. And to another named Electron. But by the first's advice I did apply, Much to my sorrow, to the defendant, For since that time a number of my friends Have sought the aid and proved the wondrous skill Of one now known throughout the world — I speak, my Lords, of him — Electron. Hydrargyrum : My Lords ! I must protest 'gainst these remarks. 'Tis plain to see behind them rancoring spleen ; Our duties here are but to hear the facts, And truly gauge the measure of the charge. This witness comes with prejudice enwrapt, And only speaks like one who's sorely grieved ; But e'en at this I would not now complain. Provided he within the libel kept. I hold, my Lords, the rules of evidence Preclude such statements foreign to the charge. I therefore hope my learned friend will see The language of his client 's most inapt. Baron Skeptic : The charge prefer'd against the prisoner We see in the indictment clearly set. Therein 'tis libeled that through ignorance, Or the neglect of self or employes, 94 POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Tlio prosecutor fell nigli unto death, And but for timely aid must have succumbed Unto the injuries that he thus received, I tlierefore think, ere we can prove neglect, It must be shown a knoAvledge possible Among the members of the prisoner's craft, 7\.nd for that very reason I must hold The witness justified in his remarks, Wherein he did disclose the name of one Who had prescribed unerring measures oft ; And if it can be demonstrated here That such was known unto the prisoner, And that the knowledge of Electron Had been disseminated through the trade. Then he is clearly guilty of the charge. The law is very clear in this respect, As bearing on the crime of Homicide — If any man shall by neglect convey Or, knowing, cause to be conveyed within A dwelling, building, place or covered way A missile, compound, substance or machine, Whereby the lives of the then occupants Shall be in danger unto certain death , Such person must within the law be held As guilty of the crime of Homicide. VoLTA Magxkticum I My thanks, my Lord, for clear- ing thus the way. And sparing me the sorrow of rebuke I had intended for my learned friend, Whose interruption was unwarranted ; But now, I hope my client will no more Be interrupted in his evidence. Hepatitis : These workmen told me that I need not feel The least alarm about my habitation. They had, they said, discovered all the cause. They said that Madame Bile, my housekeeper. Had lately found my cook and kitchen maid TRIAIv OF MEDICINE. 95 Kemiss of duty in their work assigned, And that while each the other did accuse Of the neglect which led to this decay Which showed itself around each stanchion's base, And caused the joints and tie-beams to collapse Until the king- posts, purloins and rafters fell, And that one gable had at last succumb'd Amongst the debris of the chamber. My cook, Assimilative, I did call And ask the reason of her negligence. She straightway told me that Excreraia, The kitchen maid, had oftentimes been found To throw her waste about the scullery floor, Instead of through the drains assigned to it, And hoped that therefore I would not deny That in the preparation of my food She 'd not be known to lack the trustful care That should be e'er bestowed on Nature's gifts. She did remind me how, in times gone by. When I, much against her will, had ordered A page named Alcohol to wait on me, And how he did entice me with his condiments. 1 bid her speak no more 'bout such as he, For he, indeed, had caused me much unrest ; But ere she left I asked her if she knew How best I could proceed to remedy That which had evidently been the cause Of all my trouble and disquietude. She told me of a cousin of her own. Whose name was Chyle, a most industrious man, My housekeeper, she said, had known him long ; In fact, she many times assisted him With means to carry on his operations. And, when he last did call, he told Excremia How buildings oft were ruined by the fact That certain substances beclogged the drains. Which, overflowing, injured every wall And caused the building's premature decay. He cited several instances in proof. 96 POEMS OF TWO WORI^DS. In which these substances were often found ; Some noxious garbage filled with nicotine, And rotten cereals charged with alcohol ; But custom had so common made the act, That Nature's natural drains were very oft Into the veriest cesspools turned. She told me that he did explain to her How he had often coursed the conduit through, And how the various channels did pour out Into the vena portre, as 'tis called. So much of the chymificated mass. Which from its very nature tends to build And strengthens up the structure at its base. In its mysterious but most natural way. Her cousin's workmen, too, had suffered much Through Excremia's carelessness and whims. The brothers Lacteal, I think she said, Were the names of these her cousin's employes And, true to their employer's interest. Refused their services to every one but he. A number of reputed citizens Had sought their aid as transports or as guides ; But, feeling that the goods were contraband. Unlawful and injurious to the State, With true nobility of purpose stood Against the tempting offers which they made. 'Mongst these was one Lupuli Infusium, Who, from the magnitude of his estates And manufactories of his various wares. Had deemed himself all-powerful with these men ; But they did ever strenuously oppose The introduction of his poisonous goods. But, finding he was foiled in his attempt, Sought out his neighbor, Dr. Allopath, Knowing full well his most insidious power. And how he held the kneeling multitude. The doctor, feeling all his interests linked With Lupuli and his friend Sir Alcohol, Determined to attempt l)y secret means TRIAI/ OF MEDICINE. 97 To gain the service of the Lacteals, And straightway introduced one Absinthi, Whose comely mien and most engaging ways Soon won the brothers Lacteal to their side, Who did agree to take Absinthi through; But they the treachery did discover soon. E'en ere Absinthi crossed the outer hall, His 'broidered cloak fell off upon the floor. At once disclosing his true character. They turned the traitor out, and since that time, With wary foresight, all their aid refuse To those who do not first their warrant bring, And duly witnessed by their master Chyle. Now, while she spoke, I did remember me Somewhat about the circumstances she named. For Madame Bile, alarmed, came to me That I might send for some one to repair The damage that the fellow then did do To a partition in her ante-room. Though simple as at first that fray did seem, It caused us much confusion in the repair. One Homoeopath first sent his workmen in. And, after working long upon the breach, 'Twas just as bad as when they first began. The smallness of their tools when first they came Provoked a smile from the porter in the hall. Whose ready wit reverted to Defoe And the great tribe of pigmies of Munchausen In the now-noted land of Lilliput. Botani then his sturdy fellows sent. Who swill'd and plaster'd, drench'd and plugg'd the wall, And by their noise my neighbors so disturbed. That I would fain have kicked the fellows out, While in material they were so profuse That they did waste nine-tenths of what they brought, Much to the injury of my furniture. 'Midst this confusion my friend Electron called, And, seeing all the trouble I was in, IKS POEMS OF TWO WORLDS. Did tlu'u a tnis(y liaiK-siiiaii rtH'(»iiiim-ii(l VVlu) late had risen into groat ropntc, Despite the {jrojiidice of earlier times — Had won liis way to honor and to fame, Until his magic name, Electron, Had now become to all a household word. I knew my friend Kloctron to possess A most ingenions and a snbtle mind That e'on could pent^trate the base of things. ]le was, in fact, a true philosopher. Nor was ho one of those who dared to think They had arrived at Nature's ultinialmn, Aiid to possess the great ])anacea For every want, and cure for every ill, Jiut did delight to own his ignorance Of Nature's laws and subtle ])oteucies. In his discourse he'd oftcui take one back Into the past and distant centuries, And show how much that every schoolboy now Had set before him in his lirst primer AVhat to the savants of those ancient days Was indissolvably mysterious. 1 therefore told him that by his advice J'd seek the service of the person named, And when he left did send my mi'ssenger And bade him haste and bring the tradesman back. 'Twas then the prisoner's son, named Calomel, Did undertake the break to mend. Ere 1 ci)uld gain an interview with liini My friend Electron recommended mi> ; 'Twas then that I did miss that good man's help, AVhich might have aided nu» through other ills, And have prevented most o' my present pain, And all the troubles of this prosecution. But the rejKviring of that datnage done. In which he gained my perfect coniidence, Was all the cause why I did call him in. When the more* serious damage did oi'cur. His workman. 1! vdrargvruni, took the charge TRIAL OF MKl)U;iNK. :)}) And guidod in their ac-tH the oniployes. Tlie work at iirHt such progress did evince That ovc^ry day th(!r(! secni'd :i i>I(!;iMiuit chMngcs When Hope, a long IohL friend ol" mine arrived, Who joined with mo and her companion, Joy, In heaping praiseH on the |)riHoner'n liead Ah being the arcliitect of l,he ntpairH. 'TwaH at thin tinn* my neighhoi- liinigs comphiiiuMl Of my moUfStiiig him in his employ ; liiit, knowing well th;il, I had nothing (h)ne In any way t-o injiii'c him or hiw, I Htraiglit (U'lnamhtd wliy lie chai-gcnl me tliuH With an offence of wiiich I nothing kiu'W. He said the workmen wiiom I had empioy((d Had caHt tlieir d(^briH round about his home And Hto[)ped the jtath o'ei- which his stnvant Air Passed to and fro upon liis nKsssageM ; And, tnor(i tlian all, he said some poisonous stulV That had been thrown n[)on his court-yard floor Had mingled with the goods of which he'd charge, And thus had cast discredit on his trade. He said that even while he spoke to me His halls and passages were so begrimed VVitli filth and dirt which from my