PS ['^■''ir»'';i'^-' LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. ®|ap. - ©inujf iflljt "^a. Shelf..)di-- UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. / Songs and Sonnets. JOHN HOWELL. SONGS AND SONNETS BY / JOHN HOWELL LOUISVILLE, KY. John P. Mokton and Company, Printers. 1887 -^s lO \'< .W'- Copyright, 1887, BY John P. Morton and Company. Y^'^i CONTENTS. : The World of Books, 5 ; /T^he Society of Friends, 6 Faith in Spring, 7 A Wanderer, 8 The High Hills of the Santee, . . . . lo Flowers, ii The End of Winter, 12 October, 13 Longings, 14 Indian Summer, 15 Beauty, 16 The Children's Hour at the Lake, ... 17 Arabia, 19 The Coming May, 20 The Jerseys, 30 A Baby King, 31 The Ocean of Time, 32 Unbound, • • 33 The Cruise of the Vesper, 34 Fantasy, 35 Contents. Friendship, 37 Shakespeare, 38 Light, . 39 Napoleon, 40 Miracles, . 41 October, 42 Helen, 43 Our Red Neighbors, 44 A King in Death, 46 The First Christmas, 47 Thought and Action, 48 The Rosella, 49 Clara, 51 In the Woods, 52 The Reapers, 53 Music, 54 Ethel, 55 The Poet of the Past, 56 Thermopylae, 57 Workmen, 58 Rest, 60 Fairy Islands, 61 On the Sea, 62 SONGS AND SONNETS. -^-^■ THE WORLD OF BOOKS. HEN Slander's many tongues raise hue and cry, And neighbors in the street have stony looks, We may contentedly let them pass by, For we can find a better world in books. We here may seek the great mind's inner thought ; These silent pages thirst not like a pack Of sleuth hounds, hunting us to death for naught. But rest forever silent at our back. We here may with Ulysses wander far. Or with the gentle poets muse and sing, Or follow the bold traveler who saw The sun ne'er set, but to the heavens cling. So if the smaller world shall Hke us less, We may within our solitude find rest. Songs arid Sonnets. THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. EIGHBORS of a higher life, Hoping for a perfect peace, Working silent in this night, Waiting for the strife to cease. Gentle, like the Prince of Peace, Lowly, as we all should be, Saving for the rainy day. Giving alms in charity. May your gentle precepts spread To the busy mart, the den Where the wolves of commerce feed On the fattened lambs of men. Pleasure flees when we pursue, But she comes to them that wait, And our gentle neighbors meet The sweet goddess at the gate. Spirit mild of sweet content Comes to bless the meeting, free, Calms the waves of discontent On the raging human sea. Sonsrs and Sonnets. Let us banish from our lives The vain love of pomp and show, For this childish, false display- Causes much of human woe. FAITH IN SPRING. AYLIGHT and Spring shine on the world, Tho' to our vision all seems night; Sweet Spring to us will be unfurled, Its sleeping flowers start up in sight; The winter white will show us soon The budding landscape, fresh and sweet. Like children rushing in a room, And with their kisses our gloom greet. Spring will come, with its bursting flowers And flutt'ring breath, will light the lands. Remember in deep midnight hours Sunlight rests on far ocean sands. Have faith in Spring, in darkest hours Birds are singing afar in bowers. Songs and Sonnets. \ \ A WANDERER. HONOR both the brave and free, And love the glorious liberty The broad seas always give. The world's a grand broad field to roam; The land so firm; the sea, its foam To sail far o'er and o'er. To visit every land and shore ; To carry home in Triumph's car The Roc's egg, treasure rare. The air so free, to be as it ; To bring home laden in the ship The spoils of Indian seas. To bear home pearls and sandal woods, The rarest gems, the costly goods From Eastern island shores; To sing the songs sung by the brave, To right the wrongs, to sail the waves Till plunged beneath the deep ; To have a sepulcher so old, Old Neptune's vaults will never hold A more devoted soul. The sea will take its wanderer home Beneath its blue, under the foam To find a watery grave. Songs and Sonnets. The smooth green plain will be the strand More broad than any monarch's land Upon the world's broad face. The sea so wide, there 's room to rove, Till down in grottoes and in groves The wanderer finds a home. To sail away in skies and seas. To breast the waves, to rock so free, To rove the watery world. To never know the bonds that hold The spirit fast within the fold Of Fashion's crowded aisles. The sky above, the sky beneath, The air so blue ; under my feet The gallant carrier bark. To say good-bye, the breeze is high, To sail away under the sky. Until the blue waves that I roam Shall flow above my head. lo Songs and Sonnets. THE HIGH HILLS OF THE SANTEE. N this quiet upland country, Where the sweet savannahs blow, Where the woodland hum is music And the shadows come and go : Here the tired and weary worker Comes to take his final leave, Comes to hear the river running, Far away from friends who grieve. Here the sons of Carolina Have secured a stepping-place From the well-beloved plantation To the silence-land of grace. Here the warrior and the statesman Come to take their sad farewell ; They are gathered to the bosom Of the State they loved so well. And beneath the shades of cypress They are sleeping well to-night, Waiting for a sound of trumpet That will call them up to light. Songs and Sonnets. FLOWERS. That picture of Paul Uccello's of the battle of St. Egidio, in which the armies meet on a country road beside a hedge of wild roses; the tender red flowers tossing above the helmets and glowing between the lowered lances. — Ruskin. HE great blue dome that stretches o'er my head, The stars by night, the roUing sun by day, Are seen not by the quick more than the dead, Altho' the beauty 's there, see all who may. Now hearts are wed to Mammon, and the eyes That should in this great handiwork rejoice Are seldom turned to the high-flowing skies; They never raise a truly thankful voice. Then flowers, too, bloom in vain, tho' nodding sweet, Are passed as if they were things of no use, And pushed aside or trampled under feet, Are hardly seen, and are but a refuse. Yet business, bloody wars, vain display, grief, Will hurry life, and death bring us relief. 12 Songs and Sonnets. THE END OF WINTER. I. HE winter gloom is wrapped in spot- less snow, In dazzling brightness, making moody thoughts As light as air. The cheerful evergreens Standing along the lanes change for no winter, But gladden us across the plains of white. The splendor of the sun, o'er purple clouds, Between land and sky, gilds the broad white- ness. Can black thoughts stay amidst a scene like this? In darkest days, in longest nights, the snow Comes to enliven, and to rival heaven Itself in robes of beauty. II. Soon the sun Will melt away this carpet of the earth, Life will start in every field and wood. And then Spring, that never-failing goddess Of the earth, comes, touching with magic wand Songs and Sonnets, 13 Cold, sleeping nature. Then the murmuring hills Will laugh in gladness, and upstarting flowers Will smile at us with joy. Yes, she will come, And from her lap will fling with blooming arms Her jewels to the woods, making the dells Quite overflow with verdure, and meadows A sheet of living green. She comes serene, Fanning with warmer breath the flowers spring- ing Fresh to meet her; comes to flush the flora Of this world, as a greater King will come To us, raising us up from death to life. OCTOBER. HE golden woods are rich and gay, The beauty deepens as it flies, Like dolphin in the ocean's spray Turns wondrous colors as it dies. The flowers have died, the birds have flown To fairer bowers, to greener leas, Where waving orange blossoms blow About in summer's fragrant breeze. 14 Songs and Sonnets. Kind hearts are sad as nature dies ; When winter comes as death they mourn, And spring like resurrection smiles To celebrate creation's dawn. 'Tis death in life, and when we sink Beneath the flowers so peacefully, We will have faith when we but think That we shall rise up joyfully. Sweet nature goes to rest in peace, But when she wakes 'tis ecstasy To hear the birds that never cease To celebrate the jubilee. LONGINGS. IS said wild birds in a cage Know the season of the year When they should to sunny climes Wing their way high in the air ; That the little things keep up Flutt'rings of the wings all day, Knowing they should then be off With their comrades on the way. Songs and Sonnets. 15 In the spring oft mortals feel Constant longings for the way To a land they ne'er have seen, And the longing lasts all day. Can it be that in the breast Of the mortal and the bird A desire dwells for a rest In the far-off sounds they heard ? INDIAN SUMMER. HE Indians think, before the snows And frosts of winter blast the cheer. We have eight days of summer fair. The happiest weather in the year. The air so sensuous and still. The sun so low, like ball of fire. As if the summer had returned To bid farewell, and then expire. The birds seem singing very low, " Stay, summer, stay, why do you go?" Chrysanthemums alone remain To meet the winter's snow and rain. O happy season, why not stay! You only visit, then away. 1 6 Songs and Sonnets, BEAUTY. Not that fair field Of Enna, where Proserpine gathering flowers, Herself a fairer flower, by gloomy Dis Was gathered.— Milton. 8[ADAME DE STAEL, the gifted, said one day She would give all her talents for the prize Of beauty, though the poorest woman may Possess it, and not from low station rise. Plain ones, take comfort, for a great duke spurned Sweet Georgiana, who was wed unto His Grace of Devonshire, whose love soon turned To hate, and led her but a life of woe. Beauty is often like a two-edged sword. Enticing, then both down together fall Into the unknown depths, where angry roar The waters, covering alike them all. Love for the plain ones is a real thing, While beauty's admiration oft takes wing. Songs and Sonnets. 17 THE CHILDREN'S HOUR AT THE LAKE. \ VENING, with the sunset's red, Tunes our heart-strings high and gay, As a happy childish throng Forms for march in gentle play. March ! The merry pageant moves ; Each one overflows with glee, Walking in the blissful swell Of the music's fantasy. Promenading two and two, Happy eyes so full of glee, Life looks long, and life looks bright, Spirits running high and free. Gently falling into line, Forming for the children's dance, How they're longing for the fun, Joy beams forth in every glance. VioHns strike up the air. Cheerful, like the woodland's lay; As the children waltz about, Life seems but a holiday. 3 1 8 Songs and Sonnets. Music flows, now streaming out On the evening sunset red, Mixing with the sky and night. Joining with the children's tread. Should the Indians now return To this happy hunting-ground, They would wonder at the noise And the merry, laughing sound. Now we trust the swelling note Moving over lake and lea Does not haunt in Nature's bower. Piercing to her mystery. Still the music rises on, On to sweeter ecstasy, Clothing Nature with the spell Of her magic sophistry. Yet the children happy seem, And the little birds without Wonder what the noise can mean. And the joyous, merry shout. Songs and Sonnets. 19 ARABIA. To them who sail Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past Mozambique, off at sea northeast winds blow Sabean odors from the spicy shore Of Araby the Blest. — Milton. HE deep blue sky, stretching far o'er the sands, With large, glowing stars shining near and bright, There show the way to winding caravans Across the trackless wastes, long thro' the night. The Mahometan there, at sound of bell. His dark face turns to Mecca, toward that stone Caaba that stands beside the holy well Zemzem, so named from its sweet music tone. The faithful call, "Allah, akbar, Islam," At the hour when these bowing millions think They then submit to God, and honor him Low prostrate, and thus inspiration drink. Araby's shores are perfumed, but her sands Waft her children in poor wandering bands. 20 Songs and Sonnets. THE COMING MAY. T spring's awakening The birds come always first, Amongst the trees warbling As though their throats would burst. Upon the greensward bright The children weave in play Gay chains of flowery light To deck the coming May. A distant childish voice Comes over rosy seas, It bids my soul rejoice With thoughts of other leas. My fancies gently roam — A murmur in my ears — A longing for the home And joys of early years. The songs of other Mays Come sounding back from yore, As on life's nights and days We pass the blooming shore. i Songs and Sonnets. 21 When winter's wind fierce blows The fireside scarcely cheers ; The voice of first love grows Much louder with the years. I weave her with the hours, Her dreamy face is there, As spring waves through the flowers, And songsters float in air. Sad fancies twine round now, Her coffin 'neath the lea. My thoughts so constant sow The fields that were to be. I know the world is fair. With hills of living green, The clouds float high in air Through sunlight so serene. The fountains in the sun Play with their glad delight, Then stars come one by one To make the jeweled night. The earth now laughs in glee. And flings up flowers of gold, O love is always free, And springs are never old ! 22 Songs and Sonnets. The flowers are always mute, Tho' living fresh in spring, While birds like harp and flute Keep up the constant ring. The flowers are yet alive The same as birds that sing, And give unto the hive The sweetness of the spring. 'T was just before the June, At ruddy close of day, She, laden with the bloom. Came bringing home the May. And though we older grow. And she has rested long, Her cheeks like roses glow And bloom within my song. I would not give my dead For fairest living bride That stands, deep blushing red, Decked at the altar's side. Her sister flowers lie still In winter on her mound. When spring notes ring out shrill The flowers start at the sound. Songs and Sonnets. 23 But she sleeps gently on, Awaits perhaps a spring Much fairer than the one That birds to us now bring. Oft when my fire burns low I muse close at its side, And think how she might now Be my long wedded bride. She might sit like a Muse And cheer me with her lays, My moody thoughts diffuse With sunlight like the day's. She 's sitting over there, To me still in her youth, With ever waving hair — O would it were the truth ! 'T is better for the guest To part soon in the eve. While anxious all the rest Desire him not to leave. A zest will always stay. And linger round the heart, For one who went away Before the time to part. 24 Songs and Sonnets. Perhaps the fault is mine, That I have lived too long, And having passed my prime My soul flames up in song. When music stirs my soul It wakes forgotten dreams, That from my spirits roll And flow in golden streams. I faintly hear her sing, I heard her when a boy. But strains I now hear ring Are not the sounds of joy. The airs of early years Oft murmur by the hour Within my weary ears And challenge all my power. If singing then be wrong. The wild birds with their airs, Whose lives are only song. Should answer in their prayers. Then gardens full of flowers Were waving in my sight. But now in long past hours They lay in distant night. Songs and Sonnets. 25 Ulysses who was tied By comrades to his mast, Heard songs that never died From sirens as he passed. From his sad journeys long What wonders he has told, The sirens' lovely song Within him deeply rolled. 'T is well indeed for me The Muses came to earth. That poetry is free, And rhythm had its birth. The sorrows round the heart That throb through night and day. In verses oft depart And gently fly away. The days and nights of life Now simply come and go, My mind draws pictures bright. And paints in ruddy glow. A picture that in fact. Without the music's lay. Looks only white and black, Between the night and day. 4 26 Songs and Sonnets, In music-tones it seems To be in colors gay, And from the whiteness gleams A rainbow for the day. And from the stars of night, The time when mourners weep, It weaves a veil of light, A canopy for sleep. As twilight breaks at sea. And lights the distant morn, Hope often comes to me As faintly as the dawn. Sad Dante, the divine, His love saw but one day. And that before her prime, She passed near where he lay. The praises he has sung Will ring out for all time, And lyres are ever strung To join in with his rhyme. Are words of mine then vain For her who, now away. In sunshine and in rain With me walked night and day? Songs and Sonnets. 27 It seems a passing show, The stars, the earthy crust, All changing as they go, And rolling into dust. The throbbing and the moan Of ocean on the land, With flowers so kindly sown By a wise master hand. The insect of a day That frolics in the light. With winged noiseless play, Then sinks in death at night. But my love died in morn, Before her lay was sung, A few years only born, Her day had just begun. If I could but go down To mystic realms of death, And seek until I found And rescued my lost wealth. But death will hold its own. Will keep her till the end. Will not by sign or tone A word of comfort send. 28 Songs and Sonnets. She, young and very sweet, Fell in the grave from me, And shall we ever meet Through all eternity? As long as I keep breath I '11 hope on till the end, And in the hour of death Would to her comfort send. As ship in distant seas Sails past the lovely isles, The fragrance of the breeze Blows o'er the ship for miles. But soon the isles are seen, With sunny peaks thereon, To sink beneath the green In shine of evening sun. The islands seemed so fair While the ship passed them by. But soon they float to air In distant sea and sky. The sailor still looks back, With longing loving glance, Across the fiery track. Beneath the sun-ray's dance. Songs and Sonnets. 29 My heart that seemed to break Is now without a sigh, My spirit peace would take And float on with the sky, The heaven's sunset red. Soft daffodil, and blue. Is nature with my dead? O love, it lives with you! Afar in amber west The sun appears to die, She whom I love the best Has mingled with the sky. Within the sunset glow, Deep in the flaming sea, My spirit seeks to go To immortality. 30 Songs and Sonnets. THE JERSEYS. HE Jerseys, the Jerseys are gloomy to-night, The pine fires are burning with sor- rowful light, The ocean is beating a mournful low roar, A song that 'twill sing after we are no more. The land is quite dreary, the ocean is worse, The vessels are toss'd on a dangerous coast, Their beacon lights beckon so gently to me As I watch them intently, far out at sea. The cabin-boy looks at the lights on the shore, And he knows its the home of some one. The roar Of deep-tossing wave shuts them out from his view, And he turns to sleep with the rest of the crew. This sea -coast so barren is pleasant to me, The ocean's broad waste sets my light fancy free, My thoughts go out seaward and come back no more, The burden has left me I brought to the shore. Songs and Sonnets. 31 A BABY KING. YRANT ruling without word, Ruling with an iron rod, We are running here and there, Bowing to the slightest nod. Here we have a real king. Swaying heads and swaying hearts, Though not of a royal blood, Still he charms us with his arts. Never Indian conjurer Held beneath his magic spell Supphants who on bended knee Worshiped, why they could not tell. Here 's a touch that none resist. Here's a laying on of hands Greater than a bishop's power In the holiest of lands. He entwines our hearts and hands In the mystic circle sweet, Making us a little world In the great world's busy street. 32 Songs and Sonnets. THE OCEAN OF TIME. Full fathom five thy father lies ; Of his bones are coral made ; Those are pearls that were his eyes; Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Hark ! now I hear them— ding, dong, bell. The Tempest, Act I. HE " cloud-capped towers " upon the land so firm Will pass away like the slight ocean wave, For Time will bring us all to his low term; From his sure edict nothing can we save. His billows roll alike o'er land and sea ; We are but dreams, and flow on with the tide. We look far o'er a sea of poetry Whose billows roll so ceasless far and wide. Beneath the waves, in coral grotto deep, Where wrecks are strewn and gems have turned to eyes ; Where seaweed twines midst shells, and none e'er weep For them that rest, quite undisturbed by sighs. But the sea moaning, deathless in its knell, Tells of the life now resting in its dell. Songs and Sonnets. 33 UNBOUND. HERE lies a lovely lake midst wooded hills And peaceful farms, where dull, can- kering care Never enters. There the fisherman dreams Away the daylight ; there the sloping hills And laughing waters never knew the din Of commerce; the sleepy air lulls one; like The lotus-eaters we lose all desire For native land. To live is bliss ; moments Fly in musing. The waters, undefiled By streams of blood, retain their purity. At evening, when the lake reflects the fire Of heaven, music charms us, its strains flow Clear into each breast. Sorrows and desires Flee with music and leave the troubled heart. How the sweetness of the swell fills the mind To overflowing, and the sadder strains Grow soft with joy. Happy place, where mem- ory Casts its burdens and life is ecstasy ! O lovely spot, where music cures, troubles Fly away, and ambition is not known ! There we find rest, a flowery way to heaven. 5 34 Songs and Sonnets. THE CRUISE OF THE VESPER. T five o'clock one morning The Vesper sailed away; She looked so tall and stately- While passing out the bay. Her sides were strong and oaken, The sailors seemed so bright, They gladly raised the topsails. Their hearts were bounding light ; They sailed out on the ocean. Which, like the sea of Time, Calls loved ones to its bosom From every land and clime. There was no storm nor tempest, And no one saw a wreck, And no one brought a message From off the Vesper's deck. The sailing of the Vesper Was a funeral march Out to the depths of ocean, Beneath the coral's arch. I Songs and Sonnets. 35 FANTASY. NE night in troubled sleep, afar, Came distant music, low and grand, A rosy light came streaming down From where the choirs of heaven stand. A band of spirits slowly chant A hymn of comfort, words of peace. To one who weary of this life Lay longing for a resting place. The angels beckoned, showed the way, I rose to go, when suddenly A wind of night air coldly swept Near where I lay, alarming me ; I turned, a siren speaking low, Whispered, "Not yet, O stay awhile." Then the bright spirits, coming near, Bade me to follow, sang, and smiled. A weird voice near me whispered low, " They are but phantoms, things of light. O stay upon the earth a time, O do not go with them to-night." 36 Songs and Sonnets. The angels sweet then moved to go, At me looked longingly and sad, Unto me raised a farewell song, **0 come, O come, and leave the bad!" Their arms they held temptingly low. To carry me with them above, And looked so pleadingly, then the word, While caroling their songs of love. They slowly marched up in the light, Oft looking back with farewell eyes. So sadly waving their adieu. They gently rose up to the skies. The shadows dark then closing in Found me alone in solemn gloom, The voice was hushed that bade me stay. The darkness only filled my room. Why did I stay? that was the time For me to rise from earth on high ; why came demons of the night When angels sweet were sweeping nigh ? 1 now am chained to things of clay, I often hear in dead of night The sound of demons gliding past, But nevermore those spirits light. 4 % Songs and So7inets. 37 FRIENDSHIP. FT when a prisoner is brought Before a justice of the peace He has a friend, a friend in need, Who gives the bail and thus release. Although the world is very cold, And men are striving night and day. The chains of friendship still bloom on As though they had from Eden strayed. He is alone, yes, sad, alone. Who knows not one whose eyes grow bright At his familiar footsteps' tread. Whene'er it sounds in day or night. Yet in this world there now are some Who know no welcome, know no home. 38 Songs afid Sonnets. SHAKESPEARE. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. The Tempest, Act I. SHAKESPEARE! what a tale for us is wrought From out your words, words that will never die ; In happiness our joys may here be taught To rest on wing, or yet still higher fly. In sorrow, consolation here doth reign, For man is but a pipe for fortune's play, And all the fancies that float through the brain May here take shape and have their little day. When the poor heart is full, as if to burst Its confines, he will solve the problem hard. In the long march of time youth dances first And age creeps on the last, all in this bard. The fancy floating, Nature's passing show, Have here a record with their joy and woe. Songs and Sonnets. 39 LIGHT. Light, more light! — Goethe. HE faces in the street we so oft meet In daily life look sad and full of woe, As if bright joy to them did never greet, And burdens black of care had made them so. Some show their great anxiety and want, While others smile, as if they strongly tried To battle hard, but conquer care can not. Are carried down life's stream upon the tide. They seem to have been toss'd by land and sea. For he who laughs, he is the strongest man. Not haunted by the fears of what will be, In God his trust, and doing what he can. That which is done is done all for the best. So trust the future, and then be at rest. 40 Songs and Sonnets. NAPOLEON. IS ,said the great Napoleon had a plan To found a broad empire in the far East, And o'er the teeming millions of that land Reign years, and not on St. Helena cease. His desire Europe's empire could not fill; For in this life all success that we glean Will not be that for which we had the will. For what we in our childhood oft did dream. The legend says that when Ulysses went To lower regions down, and had to choose A station for his life, he there did scorn High place, and it with willingness did lose. He chose that of a common countryman, Who had not much to do upon his land. Songs and Sonnets. 41 MIRACLES. HE age of miracles is always here : See. flowers spring noiseless up, the cause unknown; That sowing dragon's teeth did armed men rear Is no more strange than grain where seed was sown. And water that seems dead, yet quick sea waves Show life is there; but the great life is man's, When wisdom from the lower passion saves. For Nestor should give Hercules his plans. The farmer has strong faith who to the air His seed sows broadcast, and the harvest yields ; And it is well he does not see the care That the good morrow in the darkness shields. We can be sure of nothing ; all that seems Is no more true than were our last night's dreams. 42 Songs and Sonnets. OCTOBER. HE branches droop low in the gold of October, The woods now stand ripe in the low shining sun, The birds sweetly sing a requiem for nature, And soft breezes waft webs the spiders have spun. The sun takes his course like a golden ball rolling, The birds are now flocking to fly from the night, The red and the gold flames so high in Octo- ber, On earth and on heaven reflecting the light. Songs and Sonnets. 43 HELEN. ENEATH the Southern skies fair Helen dwells, The fairest of the Southern flowers to me; She decks soft mossy banks with beauty's light, And presses warmer sands 'neath spangled night. She meets the coming spring fresh at the gate, And bright green nature welcomes, hand in hand; Perhaps affinity 'tween her and earth Inspires her heart with vernal love and mirth. She loves the spring, the spring loves her as well. They waltz together on the grass so green. They're kissing, youth to youth in bliss so gay. Their touching is the dawn of coming May. O Bowers of Roses ! Banks of Primrose sweet ! O bloom for her ! Her Spring and yours are one! She blooms to beautify the paths of life, As violets on battle-fields of strife. 44 Songs ajid Sonnets. The Spring now claps its hands in newborn glee; The Southern breeze blows far from balmier climes ; It wafts the unheard tidings of my love From sunnier lands, with laughing blue above. OUR RED NEIGHBORS. HEY came in the morning Just as the day dawned, And pitched, near the meadow, Their tents on our lawn. We saw in the dim light Their tents on the green, They stood in their whiteness In sunshine serene. Perhaps they 're returning To claim what is theirs, Or why on our meadow Would they spread their wares? Or why in the daylight, So early in dawn. Would they nestle gently On our quiet lawn ? Songs and Sonnets. 45 All that day we waited So peaceful to see What move our red neighbors Would make on the lea; They plaited their baskets And worked at their beads, And smoked there the peace-pipe Out under our trees. Next morn we rose early When lo! they were gone. The grass waved as ever O'er meadow and lawn; The red children left us In peace as they came, And never more visit Our quiet green plain. Oft in the blue morning The sun rises bright, And rolls from the mountains The mist in my sight. And shines o'er the woodlands So peaceful and light, I wonder where travel Our friends of one night. 46 Songs and Sonnets. They never have come back To visit our lawn, To pitch 'neath the greenwood Their tents in the dawn ; They came here so gently And left as they came, We know nothing of them Not even their name. A KING IN DEATH. 'ER ocean's depths, on far off rocky isles Whose peaks rise heavenward, there once dwelt a king, Otho, the well-beloved, who one eve When the sun sank in beauty in the sky. Had his throne brought forth and placed on high rocks, From there to behold the royal splendor Of sinking sun — looked upon the grandeur As a king looks unto king. The ships sailed By with their purple sails, and all seemed peace, His head drooped slowly, his eyes were set deep Into ocean's vaults. There he sat and gazed Songs and Sonnets, 47 Until the stars began to glitter. Then A subject came and saw their monarch dead. Died as he had lived, a king. There he sat Mute, motionless — indeed a monarch still, As if he ruled over other kingdoms Not of this world — still well beloved, but dead. THE FIRST CHRISTMAS. N lands of drooping palms, Where summers come and go, Where children never hear Sweet carols o'er the snow, A child was lowly born, So humble and so poor, Whose parents sought repose Within a stable's door. On this dark Christmas morn, The first that ever dawned, A star came up so bright That wise men were alarmed. This was a ray of hope Sent to a darkened world ; Its light still calmly shines To cheer in winter's cold. 48 Songs and Sonnets. This is the brightest gem That shines within our night, Without thee all 's despair — O shine out, feeble light ! When terrors surge around, And darkness covers me, I see that small bright star That sparkles out so free. THOUGHT AND ACTION. There are few who have at once thought and capacity for action. Thought expands but lames; action animates but nar- rows.— Goethe. N the far Orient, where kings still sway Their subjects poor with iron hand bold, - They sit upon their thrones until this day As if they had been cut from marble cold. It has been said that work we've here per- formed Is far too great for the result attained. When we have made our plans and had them form'd, The time has come to leave what we have gained. Songs and Sonnets. 49 Few of the thoughts that wander thro' our souls Ever take shape or come up to the hght. Our thought's a flowing sea that ebbs and rolls Into the daylight first, then to the night, It may be brightest thought, like brightest bird, In never raising voice is never heard. THE ROSELLA. N the meadovv^ near the village Runs the sweet Rosella bright; How it sparkles in the daylight, Creeping first to left then right ; Now it murmurs in the whirlpool, Now it rests in placid calm, Like the greater stream of lifetime Through Fortuna's fickle land. Through the mountain gorge it thunders Like the powerful hand of Time, Running to our peaceful meadows, Anxious for the bright sunshine. In this shady pool I'm looking At my picture in its prime, It reflects quite other features Than the one in life's springtime. 7 50 Songs and Sonnets. How it glances with sweet rapture At the flowerlet on its bank, Prouder of its daisy decking Than a high peer of his rank. There 's a secret in its murmur, It seems trying hard to tell Something cool and quite consoUng, For I know the voice so well. Often in the midst of struggle. Pausing in the din of life, I quite plainly hear the gurgle Of my sweet Rosella bright. Now the mystic stream seems flowinj Close beside my stream of life ; I expect to hear its moaning When I turn aside from strife. Songs and Sonnets. 51 CLARA. |IGH up in the light blue of heaven My thoughts oft go flying through space To the unknown land of hereafter, In dreams of my Clara's sweet face. Clara, I wish you were v/ith me, We would soar and sing on the way; The peace now within me forever Would charm us in quiet and stay. The harvest in fields is now ripening, And Clara stands breast-high in grain, The golden sun streams down upon her, Her beauty baptizing from stain. 1 wish I knew what time will give her, I hope it will wrap her in bliss, That she never might wake from dreaming Till Death gives his sure silent kiss. 52 Son^s and Sonnets. IN THE WOODS. pKgllTHIN these solemn shades the grand jj^ oaks stand flail In majesty, the high arched boughs o'erhead Bend o'er us as we walk and muse beneath The domes of green. All seems still and lonely, But when we listen then we find these bowers Not tenantless, but fairies of the woods On ev'ry side. As we walk the song-bird Sounds its loud warning, and the noisy world Of Ufe seems gliding quietly away. These deep green shades are healing for the soul, A sanctuary where the wounded rest. Man seems so small beneath these giant trees; These shadows are so friendly when we come From out the busy hives of men. High up In air above the latticed green we see The living blue, so bright, so pure, and free. O who would wish for fairer world than this, For this seems Paradise ! The leaves beneath My feet, the wood-bird's note, the insect hum, The sunlight through the trees, all are so lovely. This is for us a resting-place in life, A cloister for the soul. Songs and Sonnets. 53 THE REAPERS. EAR the song of the reapers, While on their way to the fields ! Hear their sweet voices ringing Praise for the good harvest yield ! See the morn light-blue breaking Over the glad rested earth ! See the birds rise fresh singing, Hailing the far dawn with mirth! These disciples of Saturn Reap of the gold-ripened grain, Taking home for the storehouse Treasures of sunshine and rain. But the Great Reaper's harvest Gathers alike ripe and young. Bearing them home together, The harvest song yet unsung. Soon we shall all be taken. Alike the good and the bad. Trusting be left forsaken, Downcast made even more sad. 54 Songs and Sonnets. In the gardens of heaven The young will remain there young, Ripe grain kept there in fullness, And heaven's harvest-song sung. MUSIC. EAR the tones as they softly Sink deep into every breast, Filling us all with longing — Hope for a far-off rest. Oft in the misty darkness Can I hear the strings at play, Bearing me off so gently To pleasure lands away. Soothe now our souls so restless With a sunny southern lay, Over a tossing ocean Flow on and cheer the way ; Fan us with wings outstretching To sleep on your unseen tide; Fly away to a stillness Over life's ocean wide. Songs and Sonnets. 55 Now the sweet lays run quiv'ring Over the chords of the soul, Mingling with secret sorrows That with the far sea roll. The din of the deep music Shuts from us the constant roar Of the world with its scandals — We seem to touch that shore Where childhood's happy gardens Are flushed with rosy light ; Afar o'er the wide ocean Our sorrows take their flight. ETHEL. THEL at the gate of spring Decks the portals in her glee, Wakes the birds to hear them sing In the air of heaven free. In the grassy meadows wide, Plucking flowers so bright and gay. Weaving garlands in her pride, Smiling as the fountains play. 56 Songs and Sonnets. THE POETS OF THE PAST. LOVE the bards who sing Of youth and beauty bright. Who drink the cup of joy, And hail the morning light. The lyres are blest that ring With everlasting peace, That tune us to the chords Of ecstasy, then cease. Once harpers sang the lay Of knights and deeds of arms, But now they 're silent all Beneath the mystic charms. The lyres once struck the air, " On, on to Palestine ! " Now minstrel, knight, and saint Lie leveled down bv time. Songs and Sonnets. 57 THERMOPYL^. T was a foolish deed, They knew they could not win; The hero blood ran free Amidst the battle's din. These were all precious lives ; They built an altar high Upon the mountain pass, Beneath the Grecian sky; They taught a lesson well, Which we should heed to day, That Freedom has a price Too great for life to pay. Amidst the selfish strife We see in daily trade. How bright seems that fair morn In Grecia's mountain glade ! That was a glorious day That broke on deeds so brave, Its light is shining now On history's Hving page, 8 58 Songs and Sonnets. O bless those grand old braves Who died for you and me, And might we die as well To keep our country free ! WORKMEN. HE flowers upon the meadow keep rolling in their bloom, The breezes from the hillside are blow- ing the perfume To one weary of the fight, the daily strife for bread, To whom the earth looks bright like the heaven overhead. The blue is always cheerful, there must be something wrong That mortals can not frolic like warblers in their song; All nature is so peaceful, so happy, and so strong, Though we are part of nature, the mission is not long. Songs and Sonnets. 59 The sky now flows above us, the blue sinks into me, The sailor midst the waves rolls into eternity, He sinks into the sea he loved, the azure o'er the lea Is my beloved ocean, fast flowing over me. At toil, O happy workman ! the world is bright for you ; In morn, O happy plowman ! the grasses in their dew With brilliants strew your pathway, set for the toiler's cheer. Who walk the face of nature, so honest with- out fear. 6o Songs and Sonnets. REST. HE pines are tall and stately, they seem to touch the blue, They beckon down so gently, and bid us to be true. We sit here mildly gazing up to the sky so bright, And see the bright sun setting ; it rolls on to the night. The sunlight pours upon us its blissful happy ray, The thoughts keep soaring upward upon that unknown way, That all our predecessors have trod up to their God, As now we lie here dreaming upon the wood- land sod. The wood, the lake, the harvest, all lend their magic spell To weave the strong enchantment that holds us here so well. O may it ne'er be broken; that we might pass away, Mix with the sod beneath us, and be at rest to-day. Songs and Sonnets. 6i FAIRY ISLANDS. OME let us sail o'er the dark blue ocean, Sail for the islands where all may be blest ; There we may realize childhood's longing, Perhaps we may dream and evermore rest. Where are the friends youthful days oft prom- ised, Loves never came that we hoped to esteem, The islands may give the long-sought treasure, Place in our arms the sweet idol of dreams. Draped are the isles with low hanging cypress, Palm trees bow down with their weight of perfume. Breezes blow from us sad recollections. Flute tones fall soft over meadows abloom. Islands are floating like joys in the future. Till the horizon shuts them off from view — Now hear the music, and feel the longing; Come let us reach them, or sink 'neath the blue. 62 Songs and Sonnets. ON THE SEA. HE sea! where the wild bounding breakers Dash up to our portals with glee, We laugh with the sunbeams that sparkle, And dance on the azure so free. O barque ! with your sails of pure whiteness Recalling to me the fair lands Where breezes are heavy with perfume That blow over tropical sands ! We rise and we fall with the billows, And plow through the foam of the sea ; The sun breaks so bright in the morning, And lights up the ocean for me. My heart rises high with the breakers : O why does it ever so chide ! We'll join with the clear rushing breezes, And glide with the fast flowing tide. ri,ffi.'!^,?.T °P CONGRESS ^16 112 840 5 f