NKS' BROKE CMKINS DONIZETTI MULLEN i::u .::.:j.' - -;:.:.:.lu±^ jjtj LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. *S "lOlOlQLO Shelf £l2_ UNITED STATES OF AMERICA ' CAMBRIDGE Prints at t&e EtoerstUe Press MDCCCXCII 7S »< rl M ?: Copyright, 1891 and 1892, By DONIZETTI MULLER. The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. Electrotyped and Printed by H. 0. Houghton & Co. THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO MY SONS CONTENTS PAGE The Origin of Will o' the Wisp i Marry for Love ! 13 My Ship 14 To a Faithless One 15 Wedded to Gold 16 Then Melted Thy Cold Heart 17 Dreams 18 Oh, my Adored ! 18 Fate 20 Divorced 21 The Discarded Wife 24 Retrospect 25 The Language of Flowers 27 I Wonder Why? 28 The Salt-Cellar 28 Maud and Paul 33 Beware ! 38 Lament of a Runaway Dog 40 Storm Tossed 41 To an American Soldier 42 To John Greenleaf Whittier 43 The Tomb of Mrs. Hemans 45 To the Memory of John Howard Payne .... 46 The Old Man's Soliloquy 49 Soliloquy of the Houseless 50 The Yellow Boys . 51 Smiling Misery 54 x Contents Come Home! 57 Little Bundle of Rags 58 Little Sunbeam 60 Never Strike a Child ! 61 To a Caged Lion 61 To the Obelisk 62 To the Sunset Gun 65 Vesper Bells 67 The Alien 68 The Jeannette's Dead 69 The Reservoir 72 Obscurity 75 Our Destinies Diverge 76 Destiny 80 The Wheelman 82 The Masquerade Ball 82 Wine 84 Champagne Song 86 The Drunkard 87 The Brook's Melodies 89 To the Charles River 90 Lake of the Woods 94 Idyl of Lake George 95 The Spray and Bow Rivers 96 The Seasons 98 June 99 Autumn 100 Storm Pictures 102 Visions of the Woods 104 A Song to California 106 Alaska 108 Morning in the Country no LINKS FROM BROKEN CHAINS. THE ORIGIN OF WILL O' THE WISP. HE god of love, long years ago When Time himself was young, Set out with quiver, darts and bow Across his shoulders slung. 'T was morn ; Aurora's blandest smile Beamed on him from above ; Away he flew, mile after mile, Uniting hearts in love. Birds warbled softest melodies ; Sweet flowers decked the ground, Exhaling odors on the breeze To soothe love's burning wound. For love pervaded all the air As gleamed this hunter's flame ; His aim was true ; his silken snare O'erflowed with joyous game. 2 The Origin of Will o' the Wisp How oft success in young or old Engenders blind conceit ! And gods, like mortals, when too bold Must sometimes know defeat. Before the archer's eyes of blue An angel seemed to glide : — He twanged his bow, an arrow flew, It glanced and turned aside. Amazement chained the hunter-boy ; For ne'er in earthly guise Had vision sweet, — so bright, so coy, — Dazed this young rover's eyes 1 Her orbs the midnight stars eclipse ; Her teeth outrival snow ; Her mocking, coral, dewy lips Are arched like Cupid's bow. The locks through which her shoulders gleam Wave there like golden floss ; Her voice is soft as sylvan stream Impelled o'er tufts of moss. With charming grace and visage blest, Lithe form unmatched by art, — The Origin of Will o' the Wisp 3 Alas ! that such a lovely breast Contains an icy heart ! The lamp which gives the purest light Decoys the moth to death ; That dainty flower * of purest white Allures with poison breath. She pertly says : " Thy power I scout, Thou prankish imp of mirth ; I challenge thee ! for much I doubt Thy boasted heavenly birth. " Sweet little fool ! Go chant love's strain To softer hearts than mine ! I '11 wear no chain of love-sick swain, Nor in his arms recline. " For me, thou ne'er shalt choose a mate ; I scorn love's soft appeal ! Thy shaft can never penetrate My armor strong as steel. " For others keep thy silly darts Who sigh to fall thy prey ! Learn, tiny god, men's loving hearts Are toys with which I play ! " 1 The Andromeda Mariana, — stagger bush. 4 The Origin of Will o' the Wisp Abashed, the baffled, pouting child Departs in scornful woe, And seeks repose within the wild, Where limpid streamlets flow. He finds a rill 'neath lindens tall, — Fit place for gods to rest ; Refulgent beams across it fall From out the gorgeous west. He throws his bow and darts aside ; His wings he deftly trims ; Then plunges in the purling tide To cool his dimpled limbs. Unknown to him, the saucy lass Discovers his retreat, — Purloins his weapons off the grass, And flees with nimble feet. Ah, fugitive ! as you in grace Trip blithely o'er the strand, You little reck your feet but trace Your doom upon the sand. A butterfly, with splendid wings, Flies swiftly down the glade, — The Origin of Will o' the Wisp 5 Ideal of all lovely things Imploring Cupid's aid. " Yes, little one, I grant thy plea, Thou shalt not vainly sue ; The nectar-cup that blooms for thee Distills enough for two." How gleefully he cleaves the tide ! His pretty cheeks aglow, Then flings the pearly drops aside, And springs to grasp his bow. He looks around in wild despair — Lo ! bow and darts have fled ! His voice in anger rends the air As if to rouse the dead. His outcries waken deep defiles ; His clan springs through the green ; Meanwhile, the witching damsel smiles Behind her leafy screen. Thus, many laugh when they should weep, They love where they should hate, And rest in dreams of blissful sleep Beneath the sword of fate. 6 The Origin of IVill o' the Wisp " Ho ! comrades all ! heed my commands ! Find where our thief has fled ! My arrows hurled by other hands Will consternation spread ! " The queenly rose, how would it grow If anchored in the lake ? Forget-me-nots, how would they blow Engrafted on the brake ? " Away ! and hunt with main and might ! List ye to every sound ! And search for steps however light Upon the yielding ground ! " They scan each leaf and mottled tint Where shine and shadows meet, And quickly see each tiny dint Where flew this coquette's feet. They follow where those imprints wind Along the curving shore ; The fleeing pilferer they find, — The hot pursuit is o'er. In scathing tones, the god : " Strange foe! Think'st thou with me to jest ? ih£!"(£ Ql/^ THI8F H>\^ FTbET)! The Origin of Will o the Wisp y Ne'er more for thee shall passion glow In any manly breast ! " For thy fell crime, inhuman sprite, Hear thou my stern decree : Go roam the earth a fickle light Through all eternity ! " When stilly night, lone, dread, profound, Unfurls her sable pall, Through grave-yards flit, from mound to mound, Condemned and shunned by all ! " O'er lonely marshes doomed to glide Till night is merged in day, Thy lovely face then shalt thou hide In tombs with mortal clay ! " O'er dreary moorlands thou shalt dart, Past wildernesses skirt ; Go seek, go find, a loyal heart ! Away ! thou wretched flirt ! " " Relent ! relent ! " she pleads in woe, " Behold mine eyes with tears o'erflow ! Have mercy ! I implore ! 8 The Origin of Will o' the Wisp Release me from this endless fate ! Give me some task, however great, I '11 serve thee evermore. "While sporting with thine arms, by chance I pierced me with thy cruel lance, — Ah, heal this mad'ning sting ! " " No ! thou shalt bear through endless time This pain ! The curse of thy deep crime To thee must ever cling ! " The greatest crime of all on earth Is scorning love in heartless mirth ; For this thou art convicted. I will not grant thy wild appeal ; I will not cause a wound to heal That has been self-inflicted." " If I can never know the charms Of being clasped in loving arms, And pillowed on Love's breast ; If in love-smiles I may not bask, Then let me die ! 't is all I ask, — To die and be at rest." :: ^ ' & THY PELl: : The Origin of Will o' the Wisp 9 "Know, pleading maid, thy charming face Effects no change in thy disgrace ; Thy beauty I defy ! For when mine arms were filched by thee That theft meant immortality, And thou shalt never die ! " <; Let me not ever wander o'er Dark, dreary grave-yards, marsh, and moor, Unloved, alone each night, Nor through each sweet delightful day, When all the world with joy is gay, Be shut from human sight. 11 Relent ! and I will chant thy praise, Through moon-lit nights and sunny days, With every thankful breath ! Unhappy fate ! alas, to be A light from which all lovers flee ! *T is worse than living death. " For love my tortured bosom yearns, — For love my breast with passion burns Which I cannot control ! Immortal pangs of wild desire Consume my heart with quenchless fire ! Relieve my longing soul ! io The Origin of Will o the Wisp " For thee I '11 find the fairest bowers, To thee will bring the sweetest flowers, And sing thee to repose ; I '11 be thy slave for aye, through all ; Forgive ! forgive me and recall Thy curse of endless woes! " Oh, I '11 disperse the clouds, the storm, Bring gems to deck thy lovely form From heaven's galaxy ; For thee, deep caves will I explore, Through azure depths for thee will soar, If thou wilt set me free ! " " Enough ! " the archer-boy replies, With anger in his voice and eyes, " Behold how gods can jest ! I take thy vow, glib boaster fair ; Do these slight tasks, I '11 grant thy prayer ; Lo, this is my behest : — " Paint a song upon the rainbow ; Mend a broken bubble ; Make the desert overflow ; Quell the ocean's trouble. " Count the countless stars in motion ; Hush the wind's deep sighing ; The Origin of Will o' the Wisp u Count the countless pearls of ocean ; Stop the clouds from flying. " Chain the lightning ere it flashes ; Still the pealing thunder ; Stop the avalanche that dashes Mounts of ice asunder. " Cage a cyclone ; make an earthquake ; Shorten years to hours ; Out of fire forge a snowflake ; Wreathe the moon with flowers. " Seize the glory of the morning, With it bind thy tresses; Dim the sky the sun 's adorning With his last caresses. " Hapless outcast ! jilt of earth ! Doubting my celestial birth ! When these mandates are obeyed I '11 forgive thee, pleading maid." Will o' the Wisp ! of thee we sing, On earth, in heaven above, Thou art, of all, the only thing That findeth naught to love. 12 The Origin of Will o' the Wisp The oceans, founts, and streams would dry If Love's sweet spell were o'er ; The sun, the stars, the earth would die, And chaos reign once more. The heavens paint upon the seas Their ev'ry changing hue, And sweeter sighs the fragrant breeze When falls the evening dew. Huge mounts peal forth a deep refrain To clouds contending low \ Glad offspring of the sun and rain ! Love causes thee to glow. Love binds us all with rosy bands, Love conquers hearts perverse ! Love guides us with his dimpled hands, Love rules the Universe ! i %t>#;* >. * pErfyibbY ^ISH V T, bON'E.£[^B.P^O|roi%> Marry for Love! 13 MARRY FOR LOVE! ED not for pomp nor gain, But love, true love, that gift from realms above ! No power on earth can rend the chain Whose links are clasped with love. Deceit will hide the smart, Stifle the sigh, keep burning tears sup- pressed, And smiling, pillowed on thy trusting heart, Dream 't is another's breast. Beauty is prone to stray, It pines when caged, and petulance as- sumes ; Cherish thy bird, or it may soar away Where vice will soil its plumes. False pride conceals the shoal That lurks to wreck with gold's alluring snare ; The jeweled bonds which fetter brain and soul 'T will gall the slave to wear. 14 My Ship When Youth and Age unite, December frost congeals the heart of May ; A sunbeam frozen on the breast of Night Will prove a fickle ray ! Wed not for pomp nor gain, But love, true love, that gift from realms above ! No power on earth can rend the chain Whose links are clasped with love. '4 MY SHIP. HAVE the trimmest jaunty craft That cleaves the curling foam, Sweet Fancy's airy pinions waft It, where I wish to roam. Her dainty sails are moonlight soft, Her flag, dawn's rosy beams, And for a pennant up aloft, A rainbow gayly streams. My friends all bear me company, Love nestles in each berth ; To a Faithless One 15 Bright visions freight my argosy, We ballast her with mirth. Our wealth is more than Croesus' hoard, From out their treasure-keep Tritons and mermaids toss on board Rich jewels of the deep. Her silken ropes by zephyrs fanned Enchant us to repose ; We ever float, a joyous band, Where youth immortal glows ! 1 TO A FAITHLESS ONE. " Mirth is madness, and but smiles to slay ; And Hope is nothing but a false delay ! " Byron. SAW thee at the ball last night, Gems decked thy snowy breast, Whose lustre gives old age the right His head thereon to rest. One moment, as we stood alone, I heard thy stifled sigh, 1 6 Wedded to Gold Regretful tears of anguish shone In thine averted eye. Regrets are vain ; thou shouldst rejoice Since thou art Fortune's bride, But sadness undertones thy voice Dissembling cannot hide. Thy faithless heart will oft repine At Pride's deceitful vow ; Thy bitter tears will oft outshine The jewels on thy brow. WEDDED TO GOLD. OVE is a passion from above Which knows nor guile nor mal- ice; The lowly cot illumed by love Outvies the regal palace. Ah ! gold is but a worthless prize With which thy heart to garnish ; The gems that dazzle now thine eyes Thy tears will quickly tarnish ! Then melted Tloy Cold Heart iy Dissembling, thou mayst thrill the breast Upon thine own reclining, But naught can quell thy wild unrest Nor keep thee from repining ! THEN MELTED THY COLD HEART. S fierce volcanic fire leaps from the quivering mount, My love gushed forth to thee in one o'erwhelming fount. Then melted thy cold heart 'neath love's impassioned gleams, As snow dissolves beneath the sun's bright, warming beams. But burning lava-tide thrown o'er a frozen sea Makes icebergs float away ; thus thou did'st drift from me. % 1 8 Oh, My Adored. DREAMS. CLASPED thee in my dreams ; so deep was thy repose Methought thee dead ! I rained hot tears on thy dear face, And strained thee to my heart in one long, wild embrace ; I kissed thy glowing lips, and made thine eyes unclose. Oh, had my dreams been true, e'en had thy spirit fled, I would have thrilled thy clay with all the love of years, Besought thee in such woe, baptized thee with such tears, That my endearing terms had roused thee from the dead. * OH, MY ADORED! H, my adored ! I have no thoughts which are not thine ; Thy darling name I hear low- breathed in pearly shells, Oh, My Adored! ig And when bright dewdrops roll into sweet flower-cells, In all earth's loveliness, thy soul communes with mine. Oh, could I die for thee ! Away, false dream, depart ! Why do I tremble so ? Do I adore thee still ? No, no, O love ! I bind thee with an iron will, And though it wring my soul, I tear thee from my heart ! Now thou mayst sigh to reillume love's torch in vain ! This heart, once thine, now holds but ashes of despair, More cold than if no fire had ever spar- kled there ; Thou hast no power, false one, to kindle it again. 20 Fate FATE. HE angel of my dreams thou art, love divinely fair ! I wake to press thee to my heart, And clasp but empty air. A jewel gleamed upon the strand ; I stooped to grasp the ray, A curling wave swept 'neath my hand, And snatched the prize away. Whene'er I list a wild bird's strain, The lovely songster flees ; The roses that I strive to gain Are scattered by the breeze. Like poor wrecked mortal on the deep I see a beacon light, When storm-clouds o'er the heavens sweep And hide the blessed sight. Divorced 21 DIVORCED. HE dim, unsteady light Throws phantom shadows round a tiny bed, Where lies a hapless child. An early blight Dyes his wan cheeks; pain racks his infant head. His father, bowed with grief, The image of despair, walks to and fro ; Remorse can ne'er bring tortured breast relief, Nor vain regrets release the heart from woe. He hears his sick boy moan (While from his pleading eyes the hot tears pour) : " Oh ! why have Ma and Sister from us gone ? Where are they now ? and will they come no more ? " How nice it used to be ! You romped with us, and fairy tales re- hearsed ; 22 Divorced Or if away, then Sister played with me; When you returned, each flew to greet you first. " Ma always stroked my hair And kissed me when I fell, or if I wept ; At night she heard me say my little prayer, Then told me of bright angels, till I slept. " Oh, send for Mamma now, And Sister too, I want them home again ; If they could lay their cool hands on my brow And kiss my eyes, I know 't would ease the pain." Three hundred leagues away : — " Wherefore these tears, what ails my little pet? You have new toys." " Oh, Ma ! I can- not play, My heart is sad, and — your eyes, too, are wet. " Again last night I dreamed Of Brother dear ; his brow was bathed with dew, Divorced 23 His lips were parched, his eyes with fever gleamed, He looked so ill, and he was calling you. " I saw his thin hand grope For yours, as if he thought you must be near, And Papa moaned as though bereft of hope ; Let us go home ; Brother will die, I fear." " Dreams come not true, sweet one, Else had my life been one bright round of bliss ; Dear little Will ! my darling, darling son — Perhaps — he has forgotten us ere this." " Brother forget us ? no ! He pines for us, and wonders where we are; This very day, dear Ma, shall we not go ? Oh, do say yes ! I long to kiss Papa ! " " Hush ! hush ! you have appealed With all the love and strength at your command ; 24 The Discarded Wife Our hearts may break ! I am too proud to yield ; Forgive me, child ! — you cannot under- stand." Parents, in Heaven's sweet name, Why rend young hearts whose lives sprang from one source ? Why make God's law a byword, farce, and shame ? Think of your little ones, and shun di- vorce ! THE DISCARDED WIFE. LAS ! that homes, in sordid marts, By pride are wrecked forever ; Alas ! that gold can sunder hearts Which God has bound together. I little recked it tolled my knell, And heeded not its warning, When sweetly pealed the marriage bell Upon our bridal morning. Retrospect 25 I never thought of cruel wrong, Nor how deceit can palter ; I did not see the ghostly throng, That hovered o'er the altar — As proudly kneeling by his side, While holy words were spoken. A thousand deaths my soul has died Since he those vows has broken. The love then pledged to me for life Is lavished on another ; My husband calls her now his wife ! My children call her mother ! i RETROSPECT. HE veil which screens long weary years In dreams I throw aside, When lo ! a lovely girl appears In all her virgin pride. As then, her soulful, timid eyes Are gazing into mine ; 26 Retrospect The while I list her counsel wise, Mine arms around her twine. Again the selfsame books we con, With lessons all too brief ; Again we write love-mottoes on The margin of some leaf. We wander forth on star-lit nights To hear the whip-poor-wills, And see the glow-worms' tiny lights Flash o'er the pensive hills. Oh, rosy youth ! when two hearts rhyme, The music of the spheres Sends through each soul a thrill divine, That charms in after-years. Dear girl, how lovely all things seemed ! Why, every month was June ! In those sweet times we never dreamed That hearts sang out of tune. The frost of age now crowns my head, My brow is furrowed o'er, Wild vines have wreathed thy lowly bed These three decades — and more. The Language of Flowers 2j Oh, loved and lost, for thee I yearn, While thou dost wait for me ; Though other eyes watch my return, My heart still pines for thee. Time doth not mar youth's first sweet dream The while life's currents flow ; The twilight tinge upon the stream Is but an after-glow. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. jT morn I give thee violets ; each spray Is gemmed with dew. Dost know they say to thee, " Love me all day, All day be true ? " When twilight falls, I give to thee a rose Lovely and bright, Which says, within its heart that crimson glows, " Love me all night ! " 28 I wonder why ? I WONDER WHY? MYSTIC light is burning In thy dark eye, Which starts my heart to yearn- ing, I wonder why ? When you my shy hand captured In passing by, My soul was thrilled, — enraptured ! I wonder why ? Thy smiles to all are pleasing, — Could I but die My heart is burning, — freezing, — I wonder why ? THE SALT-CELLAR. [WO friends have I, who dwell in realms of bliss, One a lawyer, and one a banker's daughter, " My darling sweet ! " precedes a linger- ing kiss : Time — honeymoon's first quarter. Tlie Salt-Cellar 2g Her form is exquisite, orbs dark and bright, A winsome face where love and joy are blended, Her lips are ravishing, teeth pearly white, Her raven hair is splendid. In his blue eyes fierce burns the fire of youth, His locks are blonde, his voice is deep and mellow ; In stature manly, tall and strong, in truth An earthly-born Apollo. Words cannot paint the rapture of these two ; Their hearts are one, transfixed by love's firm rivet. By hours they tell their love, and bill and coo ; Their souls turn on one pivot. They from each other's eyes translate sweet lore, Their every look their fondness but con- fesses, jo The Salt-Cellar But vigorous youth requires something more Substantial than caresses. " Dinner am served ! " The butler wheels in haste, A large-sized smile distorts his visage sable. Their right hands clasped, his left arm round her waist, They saunter towards the table. " Will wifey try the soup ? it smells right nice ! " "Yes, love. " To squeeze her hand, he drops the cover ; Oh, woeful accident ! in half a trice It knocks the salt-dish over. " Oh, hubby dear ! look, look, you 've spilt the salt ! How could you, love ? now, we are sure to wrangle ! " " Wrangle ! well, sweet, it shall not be my fault ; Your riddle pray untangle ! " The Salt-Cellar 31 " 1 Ve often heard my darling mother say- That he who spills the salt will rue the blunder, — Be angry with some friend ere close of day, — Can aught our fond hearts sunder ? " " That you could heed such trash, I never dreamed ! Your mother — lord ! she 's childish, old, and silly. " " My mother silly, sir ! " the young wife screamed In accents sharp and chilly. " Good heavens ! come, don't be a little fool ! " u Call me a fool ? insult a dear old lady ? How dare you, sir ? " "I meant no harm, keep cool ! Why, both your minds are shady ! " " I '11 hear no more ! " Her chair falls with a bang ; Pride, hate, and scorn within her dark orbs mingle ; $2 The Salt-Cellar She flounces out, the door shuts with a clang That makes the dishes jingle. " By Jove ! the truth is piercing my thick skull ! My wife is right, and so is her wise mother. " I '11 go to her ! how could I be so dull ? " Now each forgives the other. Kisses dissolve the clouds, Love reigns once more ; A heavenly smile illumes the drops of sorrow ; The storm is past ; their souls enraptured soar Where I forbear to follow. A careless word the sweetest joys will mar ; When friends have faith in things you feel like scouting, Think what you please, but it is better far To give no signs of doubting. Maud and Paul 33 Dear ones, if you would shun domestic strife, And have the honeymoon of long dura- tion, This mandate heed : when home-brewed gales are rife, Slur not your mate's relation ! Perchance some bitter drug may fill thy cup; Dash it away ! to quaff it would be fool- ish j Each say, " Forgive me, love ! " kiss, and make up, And always blame the salt-dish. MAUD AND PAUL. HE sleepy birds within the dell Were whispering " Good-night," When on the sward a footstep fell, As soft as beam of light. 34 Maud and Paul 'T was Maud, a girl of seventeen, As graceful as the fawn, And lovely as the blush between The fickle clouds at dawn. Mirth-dimpling cheeks of roseate hue, Gray orbs with jetty fringe, Arch lips as fresh as early dew, And locks of purple tinge. In virgin white was she arrayed ; Her hair was unconfined, Save where the moonlight wove a braid, Or with the coils entwined. Young Paul awaits the maiden there, With heart on love intent ; Their mingled breath unto the air A sweeter fragrance lent. The youth has soul-lit eyes of blue, A pure and lofty mind, A matchless form, heart brave and true ; His lips the gods designed. Oh, joyous youth, take not thy flight, And love's sweet dreams erase, Maud and Paul 35 Ah, grief should ne'er their fond hearts blight, Nor age their brows deface. Fair moon, hast found that in thy rounds For which the spirit yearns ? Tell me, bright stars, if in your bounds True love immortal burns ? Oh, Helios ! thy steeds turn back ! Search out some hidden clime, Where fadeless flowers shall drift the track, And stop the car of Time. Unversed in guile, Paul feels the joy Of love's first ecstasy ; Arch, witching, dainty, sweet, and coy, Maud lists his tender plea : — " Oh, Maud ! the skylark never sang So joyously before ; I never saw the roses hang So thickly round our door ; " A fleet of lilies guards our lake, Full swells each snowy sail ; The violets are all awake ; The lilacs scent the gale ; 36 Maud and Paul " A garland decks the jessamine ; Daisies adorn the heath ; Dearest, be mine ! and I will twine For thee a bridal wreath. " " No chains for me ! adieu, we part. The eagle 's not so free ! The hunter's dart may find its heart, But none can pinion me ! " She gives her curls a saucy toss, She pouts her coral lips, And hardly dints the velvet moss, So fairy-like she trips. When thus the pine's coquettish tress Recedes in mock disdain, The zephyr's faintest love-caress Recalls the sprite again. But Paul, alas ! with haughty brow Calls not. Contempt, surprise, And hate succeed love's recent vow, Scorn flashes from his eyes. Oh, fickle youth ! thy pathway gleams O'er shoals by quicksands fluted, — Maud and Paul 57 A whim dispels thy golden dreams, And dims the torch of Cupid. As lightly fades the name when traced Where wanton billows play, Or airy castles are erased, Fond hearts are flung away. Ten years have winged their noiseless m flight, Fair Maud 's a pensive maid, Her eyes have lost their roguish light, Her hair its purple shade. How varied o'er our spirits steals The tuneful village bell ! For Paul, it chimes sweet marriage-peals, For Maud, it tolls a knell. }8 Beware I BEWARE ! -■& EWARE of Love, the archer boy ; Let caution be thine armor ; Beware ! he brings not always joy, He 's but a fickle charmer. When Cupid wounds a tender heart His captive is delighted, If he lets fly a poisoned dart The victim's life is blighted. A promise is a brittle link, Desire, a wanton rover ; The falls are smoothest on the brink Of plunging madly over ! Manhood, unsullied, wooes the things That Virtue shuns in terror ; A blemish to a woman clings, — All magnify the error ! The heart that sacrifices all To Love's delightful pleading, Like withered wreaths from festive hall, He flings away unheeding. Beware ! 3g Though harmless seems the gleeful spray- That sunshine floods with glory, That surging spray will wear away The frowning promontory. The bee its treasure brings no more x To where its sweets were rifled ; The soul will ne'er enraptured soar With which deceit has trifled. The hare-bell torn from woodland rill Will perish with the florist ; The fettered bird will never trill The music of the forest. Though brightly gleams the stranded shell O'erswept by wild commotion, Within its cell for aye shall dwell The dirges of the ocean. 1 Bumble-bees deposit their honey in rock-heaps, tufts of dry grass, and the like ; when robbed, they never return. 40 Lament of a Runaway Dog LAMENT OF A RUNAWAY DOG. Y waving fields and limpid streams Was my dear home ; how oft it gleams Across my brain in fitful dreams ! Now starved and cold I roam, One foot is lame, Alas ! I have no home, No friends, no name. With blanket tied with ribbons gay, A swell town-dog once came my way ; Ah ! woe is me, I rue that day ; " I would not chase the cow, Nor chickens tend," Said this stuck-up bow-wow, My new-made friend. With foolish praise he made me proud ; I swallowed all the oaths he vowed, And sought with him the city's crowd ; Oh ! if I dared return To master now ; For home and friends I yearn ; Bow ! wow ! b-o-w — w-o-w — Storm-Tossed 41 STORM-TOSSED. H me ! the sullen breakers' roar Strikes with a boding thrill, While fiercely from some frozen shore There comes an icy chill. Low down the gray horizon's rim A gloomy cloud appears ; The frowning sky is leaden-dim, And shedding bitter tears. With masts all rent, lo ! in the dark I drift, the whirlwind's prey ; My anchor 's gone ; my tossing bark Flies on her aimless way. Oh, Pilot ! you 're perverse to me ; Could I but take command, I 'd steer towards some pearly sea Or rosy morning land. How fast she skims the fickle main ! I near the dismal West ; Back ! Pilot, to the East again ! — He heeds not my behest ! 42 To An American Soldier TO AN AMERICAN SOLDIER. HEN devastating clouds rolled black, Thy sword the valiant guided ; Aye, thine undaunted will gave back Our Country undivided. If prayers availed, or human art, In pain thou wouldst not languish ; At thy distress the Nation's heart Is bowed in tearful anguish. Relentless fate life's thread may break, And earthly ties dissever ; Time's tuneful lyre thy praise shall wake, The Hero lives forever. Thy mighty deeds, thy matchless fame, Gleam forth a starry cluster ; And ages hence, thy cherished name Will glow with brightest lustre. New York, June 25, 1885. % To John Greenleaf JVhittier 43 TO JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. HY words lead our thoughts higher, |j Making humanity our constant guest ; Once gently touched, thy soulful, tender lyre Vibrates in every breast. When slaves were forced to clank Their galling chains in terror, pain, and woe, Each burning link within thy bosom sank, Thy heart felt every throe. Tears of remorse will start, When vengeful mem'ry draws the veil aside, Revealing to the sad, regretful heart Thy lay of love and pride. When Autumn paints the woods, Sears all the hills, scatters her garnered leaves, Thy fancy from Death's crumbling, russet goods A fadeless garland weaves. 44 To John Greenleaf Whittier Thine Idyl born of gales — How many souls its holy ties have felt ! Though sunbeams glow till old Atlantic fails, Thy snow-wreaths ne'er will melt. Enchanted by thy Muse, Tribes yet unborn will love New Eng- land's strands, And o'er her waves see dart frail bark ca- noes, Propelled by dusky hands. New England's sons may roam, There is no clime to which they do not throng ; But more than fame or wealth they love the home Portrayed by thee in song. New England's granite hills Will echo back for aye thy plaintive lays ; New England's surge-lashed shores and sparkling rills Will ever sound thy praise. The Tomb of Mrs. Hemans 45 THE TOMB OF MRS. HEMANS. HIS silent tomb for thee ! where no faint ray Of sunlight lingers round thy sa- cred clay ? O thou, who loved the woods, the daisied sod, The brooks, the birds, all things which breathed of God, Thy grave should be where summer breezes toy With violets ; where cowslips bloom, and coy Forget-me-nots unclose their pensive eyes, To catch the light of England's azure skies. 46 John Howard Payne TO THE MEMORY OF JOHN HOWARD PAYNE. John Howard Payne, the author of " Home, Sweet Home," was born at East Hampton, Long Island, on June 9, 1792, and died at Tunis, April 9, 1852. Mr. W. W. Corcoran, a friend of the author since youth, had his remains brought to his native land ; they arrived on March 21, 1883, and were finally laid to rest at Oak Hill Cemetery, Washington, D. C, on June 9. The ser- vices were conducted by Bishop Pinckney. EST ! thou hast reached the goal • Kind friends strew flowers above thy mould'ring brow ; The praise that would have thrilled thy longing soul, The world accords thee now. Thy cup o'erflowed with woe, The rude winds tossed thy bark in heed- less play ; Now through all climes regretfully and low Echoes thy mournful lay. " Sweet Home ! " oh, sacred spell ! The prodigal hath melted at thy strain, And hardened wretch within his prison-cell, When prayers have been in vain. John Howard Payne 47 Upon the couch of death, Where fading hope to fond remembrance clings, Thy plaintive melody, with failing breath, The lonely exile sings. When Valor might despair, In thrilling tones it nerves the warrior's breast ; The mother softly breathes thy soothing air To lull her babe to rest. Along the smiling shore, Through dim, lone woods, far o'er the rolling plain, In harvest field, by lowly cottage door, Is heard thy sweet refrain. O trusting heart betrayed, Bereft of friends, and all save taunts of scorn, " Sweet Home ! " bright angels chant ; Hope heaven-arrayed Cheers thy dark soul forlorn. 48 John Howard Payne Where sounds God's holy praise, O'er boundless seas, through high and craggy fells, In stately halls, where regal jewels blaze, Thy tender anthem swells. Thy song will never cease, Thy words divine cause every heart to thrill ; While ages roll, while centuries increase, Thy lyre will vibrate still. Oh ! tardy recompense ; Alas ! how oft is genius linked with fate, And brave hearts crushed 'neath agonies intense, While homage comes too late. Rest ! thou hast reached the goal ; Kind friends strew flowers above thy mould'ring brow ; The praise that would have thrilled thy longing soul, The world accords thee now. The Old Man's Soliloquy 49 THE OLD MAN'S SOLILOQUY. HE summer days are not so long, The sky is not so blue, The robin sings a sadder song Than when my life was new. The cataract above the mill — How loud it used to roar ! But now, it falls so soft and still I hardly hear it pour. The blast that rocked the northern pine, I hailed with glowing breath ; The breeze that sways the jessamine, Now feels as cold as death. The rainbow is no longer bright, The flowers no longer sweet, My raven locks have turned to white, And Time has chained my feet. Time, how noiseless thou dost glide ! And yet how swift thy stream ! 1 drift upon the ebbing tide, Near where my treasures gleam. lyO Soliloquy of the Houseless SOLILOQUY OF THE HOUSELESS. " 'T is dark : the iced gusts rave and beat ! " — Keats. ARK to the revel Convulsing the clouds ! 'T is the loom of the devil Weaving shrouds. How the winds wrangle With sign-board and tree ! How the storm-furies strangle, Torture me ! Dreary, dark, endless, These bitter nights stretch To a poor, old, sick, friendless, Houseless wretch. God ! I shall perish Out here in the snow ! Is there no one to cherish Me ? No — no — Little it matters To the proud ones near That I writhe in my tatters, Starving here. The Yellow Boys THE YELLOW BOYS. ITH a wrinkled face death-white, In a cheerless room and cold, A miser counts by a feeble light His treasures of hoarded gold ; And he croons as the eagles clink : " I stow the shiners away ! What others squander on food and drink I keep for a rainy day. " The people are mad or fools ! On the fat of the land they thrive, Eating and drinking the richest things, — Why, a crust keeps me alive ! Of this faded cloak so old I care not what they think, For every fold Is stuffed with gold, — Ah, how my eagles clink ! " And he chuckles as he sings : " I stow the shiners away ! My only joys Are my Yellow Boys, The chums with which I play. " 52 The Yellow Boys His soul he pawned in a sordid mart, Never to be redeemed ; His poor wife died of a broken heart, While for gold he starved and schemed. Still he sings in devilish glee : " My wife is dead, My son has fled, And I am alone and free ! Oh, it takes much less To feed but one Than to feed a hungry wife and son, Ha ! ha ! it takes much less To feed but one Than it did to feed all three ! " One morn they found the miser dead, His throat was cruelly gashed ; A gaping wound was in his head Where his brains had been outdashed ; The Yellow Boys He would not lend, But hugged to his stingy heart The golden toys He would not spend, At last, they had to part. — The Yellow Boys 53 In a pauper's grave his bones were cast, With never a prayer or knell, When a laugh croaked up from the depths so vast Like a fiend's from the caves of hell : " Ho ! I am so lean, So shriveled and lean, I will treat the poor worms to a fast ! Ho ! I am so lean, So skinny, I ween, I have cheated the worms at last ! " In a splendid street, Where thousands of feet Are rushing to and fro, As the tide and life of the city beat In an endless ebb and flow ; In a gorgeous, gilded hall of fate, Where the smiling tempter lurks in wait As fortunes sink and soar, Where many a song From that eager throng With curses and laughter blends, His Yellow Boys, on rouge et noir, Are making other friends. % 54 Smiling Misery SMILING MISERY. LINES ON SEEING AN OLD BLIND BEGGAR SMILE IN HIS SLEEP. PON the sward o'er which the graceful willow streams, The old blind mendicant lies wrapped in happy dreams, While long, slanting sunbeams with golden lances trace Angelic smiles upon his pinched, time- wrinkled face. Thou smilest in thy dreams ; Art happy now ? Are youth's bright limpid streams Laving thy brow ? How strange seem the smiles round thy lips at play ! Art thou culling flowers which adorn the way ? Does the fragrant breeze waft a sweet re- frain, From the dark, green woods, of the wild bird's stain ? Smiling Misery 55 Oh, gentle, sweet repose, Soft, mystic charm, Healer of earthly woes, Bless thy dear balm. See'st the morning sun o'er the mountains shine, And the clouds in the west at the day's decline ? Does the dash of waves, and the vintage song, In thy bright dreams waver and float along ? Perchance a mother's hand Is guiding thee To some far peaceful land Where all may see. Dost thou in thy youth roam the fields once more ? Does thy shallop bound to the dipping oar? Or do merry voices, in childish glee, Chase thy woes away with their revelry ? Does thy loved sister's song Fall on thine ear ? 56 Stilling Misery Does an angelic throng To thee appear ? Ah ! the happy smiles are now giving place To a troubled look which o'erclouds thy face; And thy sightless orbs are tearfully raised, For thy waking dreams leave thy soul amazed. Ye lengthening shadows, pause ! Time, cease your flight ! Nature, revoke thy laws, Give blind eyes light ! Like the heart betrayed, like an orphaned child, Like a voyager wrecked on the ocean wild, Like an exile poor, in a foreign land, Thou grop'st in the dark with thy palsied hand. Oh, couldst thou ne'er awake 'T were well for thee ! Oh, could thy dark chains break And set thee free ! Come Home* $y COME HOME! !E know not where thou art ; But still we look for thee if steps draw nigh ; When gentle winds the sleepy branches start, We hear thy voice in every leafs low sigh. Strangers come and go ; We heed them not, for none can fill thy place ; Dark locks have turned to white, and joy to woe ; But all in vain we yearn for thy dear face. We gather round the board ; Thy place is kept, but vacant stands thy chair ; Oh, bitter tears for thee have oft been poured, Distilled from aching hearts in mute de- spair. When waning stars grow dim, Throughout the day, when twilight gilds the sea, 5