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 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.# 
 
 9 
 
 | UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. J 
 
 
RURAL LAYS AND SKETCHES. 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER POEMS, 
 
 BT 
 
 JOHN PRINCE. 
 
 
 
 ESSEX: 
 
 PRINTED BY THE AUTHOR 
 MDCCCXLV. 
 
 r 
 

PREFACE. 
 
 The contents of the following pages are issued 
 in the present form, chiefly for the purpose of cir- 
 culation among the author's friends and acquain- 
 tances. The delineations of natural scenery which 
 they contain, (which, whatever may be said of 
 them as specimens of versification, are faithfully 
 exact as local representations ) will, I think, afford 
 some little gratification to those who recognize 
 them as descriptions of some well-known haunts 
 of their childhood, and pleasant retreats of maturer 
 years ; and it is hoped they may not prove tedious, 
 in the perusal, to those who may be unacquainted 
 with the localities designated, but who have a rel- 
 ish for the sweet simplicity of nature, as seen and 
 enjoyed by the resident of the country, away from 
 the noise and dust, of the thicldy populated town, 
 
and the stifled, unhealthy atmosphere, the pageant- 
 ry, and clashing din of the crowded city. Of the 
 other pieces in this little book, I will merely re- 
 mark, that they were written, from time to time, as 
 a sort of pleasant recreation, — as were also the po- 
 ems first -mentioned : and, whether literary merit 
 or demerit attach to them as compositions, they 
 have been to me a source of refined pleasure. 
 
 If others derive from these unpretending effusions 
 one half the quiet, meditative enjoyment which they 
 have yielded him. who has written and now sends 
 them forth, they will not regard the time spent 
 in reading- them as entirely thrown awa}'. More 4 
 over, should the critical gentlemen be somewhat 
 lenient, in the event of these cogitations falling in 
 their way, it is possible that their obliged humble 
 servant may venture out again, more voluminously 
 sometime. 
 
 Seple?nber, 18 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Page, 
 
 CHEBACCO RIVER 9 
 
 FALLS -BROOK - - - - - 14 
 
 REFLECTIONS ON AN ANCIENT CHURCH - - 22 
 
 CAFE ANN HARBOR - - - - - 28 
 
 THE TINY STREAM - ... - 31 
 
 THE DELL, NEAR THE LANDING - - - 37 
 
 BEVERLY - - -- ' — - - 43 
 
 TOKENS OF REMEMBRANCE ... - 54 
 
 SONNET THE TIDE ----- 56 
 
 SONNET TO A BATTLE-MONUMENT - - -57 
 
 THE ACCEPTABLE FAST - - - - 58 
 
 " THE DEAR GOD " ---.-- 60 
 
 SONNET — APRIL - . - - - - 63 
 
 eg rHE Human r u i; - - - . - - 64 
 
WISH YOU HAPPY NEW YEAR - - - - 65 
 
 SONNET STATUARY OF " THE LAST SUPPER " - 66 
 
 SONG ----- 67 
 
 SONNET TO ONE DEPARTED - - - 69 
 
 INSTALLATION HYMN 70 
 
 CHRISTMAS HYMN - - - - 73 
 
 AN INCIDENT 77 
 
 CHASING BUTTEEFLIES - - 81 
 
POEMS 
 
CHEBAOCO RIVER. 
 
 Unnoted, quiet little stream, that windest to the 
 sea, 
 
 many fond remembrances my mind has linked 
 with thee, 
 
 Though but a few brief years have passed since 
 first on thee I gazed, 
 
 When Autumn's sun with mellow beams thy tran- 
 quil bosom, glazed. 
 
As, from the window wheje I sit, thy curling waves 
 
 J view, • 
 
 Past scenes of social gaiety their pleasures half 
 
 renew ; 
 And as each freshening zephyr stirs thy pulsatory 
 
 tide, 
 My heart throbs quickly at some thought to by-gone 
 
 hours allied. 
 
 1 sec, in fancied retrospect, the smiling, festive 
 
 throng, 
 Who, in a roofed, unwieldy barge, with dance and 
 
 mirthful song, 
 Upon our nation's jubilee, once moved thy waters 
 
 o'er, 
 And sailed along thy winding course to green 
 
 ( irosi [sland's shore, 
 
1! 
 
 Of those who mingled in that throng, some now are 
 far away, 
 
 And many changes have been wrought since that 
 bright summer day ; 
 
 But still thy silvery current flows as softly and as 
 pure, 
 
 And friendships true, which then I formed, unsha- 
 ken yet endure. 
 
 The visioned forms of other scenes, roused by thy 
 
 singing waves, 
 Have started, dimly peering forth from Memory's 
 
 sombre caves : 
 And I might linger long, and scan each vaguely 
 
 shadowed face, 
 And semblances of features fair, that now are 
 
 mouldering", trace* 
 
1.2 
 
 But pleasant voices, near me now, these saddening 
 
 visions break, 
 And brightly beaming visages less pensive thoughts 
 
 awake : 
 The youthful days of one dear friend were near 
 
 thy margin passed, 
 And girlhood's reminiscences bright spells around 
 
 thee east. 
 
 In other years, thy parted waves have kissed a 
 
 thousand keels 
 Sent newly forth where to yon bay thy gleaming 
 
 current steals : 
 
 The vessel-yards — the brown,'old mills — the bridge, 
 with hoisting chain — 
 
 And meadows, cinctured by thy course,— but slight- 
 ly changed remain. 
 
I bless the Providence that brought my footsteps 
 
 near this stream, 
 Ere Manhood's wand had touched the charm of 
 
 Youth's aspiring dream ; 
 And ever hallowed to my mind, e'en should I 
 
 chance to roam, 
 Will be the river gliding near my peaceful village 
 
 home. 
 
FALLS-BROOK 
 
 Descending from its lakelet-source, 
 And flowing, in its winding course, 
 Through the adjacent meadowy land, — 
 Now girdling, with its glistening band, 
 The old farm road ; and through the brake, 
 'Neath boughs and briery shrubs, that shake 
 Their arms above its ruffled breast, 
 As if to fan the waves to rest, 
 Swift-rushing, as a frantic steed, 
 O'er mill-wheels in its way to speed ; 
 
15 
 
 Then gliding smoothly, swiftly on, 
 
 Over a green and fertile lawn, 
 
 Till turning, near the travelled road, 
 
 Before a patriarch's abode, 
 
 To wend through verdant field and fen, 
 
 Through w T ild ravine and willowy glen, 
 
 "Where children, pausing by its side, 
 
 Lave in its pure, translucent tide,, 
 
 Or in its sliding mirror look, — 
 
 Goes murmuring, leaping, gay Falls-Brook, 
 
 What pleasant recollections rise, 
 Of afternoons when summer-skies 
 Bent o'er the eartl? with loving smile, 
 And I have wandered forth to while 
 The hours away, 'mid rural scenes, 
 Where no disquiet intervenes ; 
 
Where I have drank of purest joy 
 
 From spirit-founts that cannot cloy, — 
 
 By little, merry, tinkling streams 
 
 That shoot through meads their silver gleams. 
 
 Or in some sweet, secluded vale, 
 
 Where I have listened to the tale 
 
 Of Love Supreme, forever heard 
 
 From whispering breeze and singing bird, 
 
 From rustling trees, and ilowrets fair 
 
 That shed their fragrance on the air. 
 
 W^hile ranging in these wonted rounds, 
 O'er foot- worn stiles and tillage grounds, 
 Through pleasant, shaded valleys, where 
 No sordid thought obtrudes its snare, 
 How welcomely, upon my ear, 
 The brooklet's rushing cadence clear 
 
Has fallen, with entrancing power ; 
 And reaching soon the leafy bower, 
 Where, 'neath the bordering willows' arch, 
 The waters sound their varied march, — 
 Now loud, as if to summon strength 
 Some foe to meet, and then, at length, 
 The stony fortress overcome, 
 Subsiding in a dreamy hum, — 
 And lingering there, in musing trance, 
 To watch the eddies' mazy dance, 
 And see the bright-eyed bubbles wink 
 To beckoning wild- flowers on the brink, 
 Deep peace — beyond the world's control — 
 Has flowed serenely o'er the soul, 
 With abluent wave, and left no mood 
 But love for all things pure and good, 
 
It 
 
 A sad remembrance^ will intrude 
 Upon this streamlet's solitude : 
 One morn, in Spring, a tiny boy 
 Rambled, in quiet, childish joy, 
 Through orchard and o'er grassy knoll, 
 Until, in wondering', guardless stroll, 
 He reached the rillet's gravelled edge, 
 And stepped upon a rustic bridge ; 
 ( Where vehemently the waters leap 
 O'er rocks, and flow in torrents deep ; ) 
 But ere he gained the other bank, 
 He fell, and in the wavelets sank : 
 His cries, if aught he raised, were drowned 
 In the hoarse waters' rumbling sound. 
 As on the babbling currents plash, 
 His little form they roughly dash 
 From jutting point to mimic cove : 
 While friends, alarmed, now tireless rove, 
 
19 
 
 Seeking , the infant venturer, • » 
 
 Who sleeps, alas ! where naught shall e'er 
 
 Arouse him from his still repose, 
 
 Or to his curtained orbs disclose 
 
 * 
 The nook where rests his pillowed head 
 
 Upon his turfed and reedy bed. 
 
 When sympathizing groups drew near 
 The home where Death, with shadows drear, 
 Darkened awhile the scenes of earth, 
 And stilled the voice of prattling mirth, 
 I stood beside the shrouded form 
 No longer with life's current warm, 
 Yet life-like, with the glossy hair 
 Laid smoothly o'er the forehead fair ; 
 With lid. half-drooped, and swollen cheek, 
 And lips that almost seemed to speak, 
 
/ 
 
 In unaffected, simple phrase, 
 The grief-worn hearts I sought to raise 
 To that bright clime of blissful souls, 
 Where whelming death-flood never rolls ; 
 Where the glad spirit of the child — 
 In sinless beauty, undefiled — 
 Was even then, perchance, reclining 
 ? Mid scenes in changeless glory shining, 
 Or roaming forth, from danger free, 
 On verdant banks, beneath the Tree 
 Whose healing leaflets gently quiver 
 In breezes from the crystal river ! * 
 
 Nature, with kindly hand, bestows 
 Sweet lenitives for human woes ; 
 Some hopeful melody she chants 
 In all her varied, lovely haunts : 
 
 * Revelations s xxiL 1, 2. 
 
E'en this impetuous, thoughtless rill, 
 Wh. irous tongue is never still. 
 
 Awakening thoughts of its fell strife 
 With the young voyager of life, 
 Does, with its ceaseless murmur, hymn 
 A plaintive, soothing requiem. 
 
REFLECTIONS ON A':, , .NT 
 
 CHURCH, 
 
 Well hath this time-worn, antiquated fane, 
 The ravages of thousand storms withstood ; 
 
 And still, unflinching, doth it here remain, 
 The faithful sentry of this ancient wood ! 
 
 * The meeting-house of the First Religious Society in 
 the West Parish of Gloucester, Mass., is probably the old- 
 est church-edifice now standing in Essex County, and one 
 of the oldest in the State. It was built one hundred and 
 thirty-two years ago, as- appears from the Parish Records, 
 and from the date of its erection inscribed upon the front 
 of the quaint «« sounding-board," over the pulpit : " 1713." 
 Although it has no tower, it can be seen quite distinctly 
 from the elevated land in the outskirts oFNewbury, a dis- 
 tance of about twenty mile* over the post road. It occu= 
 
fcations vast and wondrous Time hath wrought, 
 Sines first our fathers, in this mountain-glade, 
 Gathered from far and near, and oh this spot 
 Th|s structure's' permanent foundation laid. 
 
 He who, that day, with solemn mien, Ins voice 
 In invocation raised. — the 1 listening band 
 
 Assembled, with each other to rejoice.— 
 All, have since journeyed to the spirit-land. 
 
 pies a small " clearing " in a somewhat extensive wood- 
 land, and stands upon the summit of the highest hill in the 
 neighborhood, which furnishes a beautiful prospect of one 
 or two distant villages, Ipswich bay and light-houses, Plum 
 Island, the entrance of Newburyport harbor, and the offing 
 of the Atlantic. Its location is a mile and a half from the 
 nearest village, and considerably remote from any dwel- 
 ling, though time-worn, it is in tolerably good repair, in- 
 ternally and externally ; and the frame, being of well-sea- 
 soned oak, is almost entirely sound. It is still occupied 
 as a place of worship, during the Summer season. 
 
5 
 
 These walk, well-nigh a stole of man's fleet years. 
 
 With prayer and praise resounded, ere the birth 
 Of hirn^ who won, amid disheartening fear?, 
 
 The noblest martial victory of earth. 
 
 Yonder, I half imagine that I see 
 
 The worshippers ascend this verdant height — 
 Now hidden bj some wide-spread forest-tree, 
 
 And then emerging slowly to the sight,: 
 
 Children, in groups, arrayed in prim attire — ■ 
 The village youth, and manhood in its prime — 
 
 The trembling dame beside the aged sire, — 
 On Sabbath morn, in Summer's quiet tin 
 
 * Washing 
 
The shaded door they enter : and anon 
 
 The prayer is offered, and a psalm they sing ; 
 
 The voices blend in sweetly solemn tone, 
 
 And through surrounding- groves their echoes 
 ring. 
 
 Succeeding generations, each in turn. 
 
 Have sought, year after year, this hallowed place, 
 
 Religion's holy precepts here to learn, 
 And sin's corroding impress to efface. 
 
 How many here o'er misspent time have grieved, 
 And inly breathed the penitential vow ; 
 
 Here Christian Hope has twined, for hearts bereaved, 
 Unfading garlands round Death's pallid brow. 
 
 And each has over yonder threshold passed 
 For the last time, and his admiring eye 
 
 Around upon the lovely prospect cast — 
 
 Unconscious that he sought his home to die, 
 
•?' 
 
 Beneath this ancient tabernacle's dome, 
 
 Where human teachers of God's care have stood, 
 The swallow for herself hath found a home, * 
 And near the altar reared her twittering brood. t» 
 
 Guileless colleague ! thou ne'er — applause to win — 
 Hast darkly striven needful truth to hide : 
 
 Thou, like the flowers, which neither toil nor, spin, 
 Dost bid us in God's providence confide ! 
 
 Pleasant it is awhile to linger near 
 
 These olden haunts, and of the past to dream. 
 The few, remaining yet, will disappear, 
 
 Ere long, before Time's onward-rushing stream. 
 
 * Psalms, lxxxiv. 3. 
 
 1 A few Summers ago, a preacher was discoursing in 
 the old house, when a swallow descended from the top of 
 the sounding board, where it had made its nest, and flew 
 past him, as he stood speaking, leaving the church, through 
 the open window in the rear of the pulpit. 
 
This edifice, though firmly now it stands, # 
 Must yield, like all earth's fabrics, to decay ; 
 
 But, indestructible, " not made with hands," 
 The heavenly temple cannot pass away ! 
 
CAPE ANN HARBOR, 
 
 ER AFTERNOON. 
 
 With gently refluent waves, 
 The sandy beach and headland's stony verge, 
 Where, with loud din, in storms, the waters surge, 
 
 Now lovingly the ocean laves. 
 
 Far out beyond this placid tide, — 
 Where sunlight burnishes the azure bay, 
 Beyond where breakers toss their gleaming spray, 
 
 Lio-ht skiffs and out-bound vessels glide. 
 
' 
 
 A lone sea-gull floats through the air, 
 Fanriing his heated sides, while mine: : 
 la waves that slightly heave in tranqu- 
 
 Is seen his form, snow- white and fair. 
 
 Near yon bluff's edge the light-house stands, 
 Like some tall man, in loose, white mantle dressed. 
 Wooing the breeze that, o'er eacli wavelet's crest, 
 
 Glides gently to the shining sands. 
 
 O'er land and water, all around, 
 Unruffled, save by murmurs from the street, 
 Calm stillness broods ; and Summer's sweitry heat 
 
 Shimmers above yon battered mound, * 
 
 Like memories, that thickly o'er 
 1?he old, dilapidated ramparts throng — 
 Thoughts of the days, long past, when tyrant-wrong 
 
 Was driven, humbled, from our shore. 
 * The fort, 
 
30 
 
 Blithely, upon a breezy day, 
 Have I been borne far. o'er the billows' swell, 
 While round the prow of our fleet " Little Nell," * 
 
 The rippling, dancing waves would play ; 
 
 And gazing back upon the scene, 
 Of wind-swept waters, half in light, half shade, 
 circling strand, where mingle toil and trade, 
 - And roofs, and spires, and hill-side green, 
 
 Have felt the rapturous thrill inspired 
 By Nature's scenes. Yet not for this alone. 
 3 at for hearts here responding to my own, 
 
 Have I, long time, this spot admired. 
 
 * A picas urc»boal c 
 
THE TINY STREAM, 
 
 Through a sloping vale 
 A little streamlet glideth, 
 
 Telling a merry tale, 
 As o'er its bed it slideth. 
 
 In mimic waterfalls, 
 
 Down jaggy rocks it rushes ; 
 Or petulantly brawls, 
 
 As through the sedge it gushes. 
 
Along its verdant banks, 
 The tiny flow'rets springing 
 
 Smile at its mirthful pranks, 
 And listen to its singing. 
 
 When first this stream I founds 
 As near its path I wandered, 
 
 Its course I strolled around, 
 And on sweet fancies pondered. 
 
 When o'er life's* cares a shade 
 Was thrown by transient illness . 
 
 To grove and field T strayed, 
 For Nature's healing stillness. 
 
And near this rivulet, 
 
 Beneath thick foliage seated, 
 Songs, to its music set, 
 
 Half- dreaming , I repeated, 
 
 Then gentle Fancy came, 
 And wooed me to her palace, 
 
 Where cares, of every name, 
 Find some Lethean chalice. 
 
 Within her ample hall, 
 
 She played her changing drama, 
 While glowed the circling wall, 
 
 A gorgeous panorama : 
 
34 
 
 Until a sweet, clear note, 
 
 ( Like melody Elysian ) 
 From some winged songster's throat, 
 
 Dispelled the waking vision. 
 
 Then starting from the thrall — 
 
 The dream-like w ? eb — that bound me. 
 
 Sky, fields, and trees, seemed all 
 A panorama round me ; 
 
 And, down its crooked way, 
 The glittering current tinkling, 
 
 With drops of lucent spray 
 Its borders slightly sprinkling, 
 
3ei 
 
 Seemed like a living thing — 
 A sentient, gladsome creature ; 
 
 Its lot to dance and sing, 
 With joy in every feature. 
 
 Oft by this tiny stream, 
 
 When languid, I have rested ; 
 And many a pleasant theme 
 
 To me it hath suggested. 
 
 My mind it hath beguiled 
 
 Of listlessness, when weary ; 
 And on me it hath smiled, 
 
 With look benign and cheery. 
 
36 
 
 When Earth is calm and still, 
 And bright, I '11 go and listen 
 
 To that melodious rill, 
 
 And see its waters glisten ; 
 
 And from its cheerful voice, 
 
 As gaily on it courses, 
 Learn that life's purest joys 
 
 Oft spring from humble sources ! 
 
THE DELL, NEAR THE LANDING. * 
 
 This wild, sequestered spot I love ; 
 
 And oft, in sunny hours, I rove 
 
 Far from my dwelling, through green fields, 
 
 To woo the influence Nature yields 
 
 In this delightful, calm retreat, 
 
 Where lulling sounds and carols sweet 
 
 Soothe all life's turbulence, and fill 
 
 I 
 My soul with strange, enchanting thrill. 
 
 * In the township of Essex, Mass., within a mile from 
 the little cluster of houses which constitutes the principal 
 village, there is a singularly retired and romantic spot — a 
 plat of nearly level ground, lying in a picturesque valley, 
 enclosed by trees and shrubbery, forming a segment on 
 
r; 
 
 A brook, meandrous in its course, 
 Glides onward with augmenting force, 
 Eager its ocean-goal to seek 
 Through ever-widening, marshy creek. 
 The fringing trees and bushes throw 
 Their shadows in the wave below ; 
 And down beneath the surface clear, 
 Pebbles and fibrous roots appear. 
 
 either side, and converging at the farther extremity in & 
 circuitous ravine — affording a welcome and genial retreat 
 to those who cherish a predilection for wild, natural sce- 
 nery. Bordering it upon one side, and coursing past its 
 1 h i f y entrance, a winding rivulet, with tall trees, uncultiva- 
 ted vines and flowers upon its margin, pursues its way to 
 " The Landing," so called ; a loamy and declivous shoal, 
 which lies at a short distance, at the termination of the 
 tide-water in Chebacco river, or creek, as it is, perhaps, as 
 frequently styled. Arrow-heads, and other supposed In- 
 dian relicg, have been ploughed up in the immediate vi- 
 cinitv, 
 
The waters glad, as on they run, 
 Now sparkle 'neath the glancing sun, 
 Which peeps through rifted foliage green, 
 To tinge with beauty all the scene ; 
 Or o'er some shelving, tufty crag, 
 In slowly whirling dimples drag ; 
 Or yet anon they smoothly go, 
 In calm, but dark, majestic flow. 
 
 A bridge — -'a single, moss-grown plank, 
 Extending to each grassy bank — 
 Has borne above this shallow stream 
 The young, the fair, on whom the gleam 
 Of life's bright morning cast its ray, 
 To be obscured ere came mid-day — 
 Old men and matrons, children gay, 
 Of generations passed away. 
 
40 
 
 Here, too, in time long since gone by, 
 Echoed the shrill and mournful cry 
 Of forest -bird, with fluttering wing, 
 Pierced by the arrow from the string 
 Of Indian's tough and twanging bow. 
 And yonder, centuries ago, 
 The savage in his skiff would glide, 
 With fleeting motion, down the tide ; 
 And, in the birchen shallop rude, 
 Returning, dress his simple food. 
 
 And here I come and fondly muse, 
 When Earth her garniture renews ; 
 When Summer, o'er terrestrial things, 
 Her robe of golden splendor flings ; 
 Or Autumn staid his drapery weaves 
 Of yellow, green and scarlet leaves. 
 
41 
 
 From hours of serious, earnest thought, 
 This quiet, sylvan dell I 've sought : 
 And while, in meditative mood, 
 Upon this sloping bank I 've stood, 
 Or crossed the rill, and sauntered o'er 
 Yon seeming velvet-covered floor, 
 'Mid hum of myriad insect -throng, 
 The brook has, noiseless, swept along, 
 Or, from obstruction leaping free, 
 Dashed on in heedless, chuckling glee ; 
 And feathered warblers of the air 
 From this sweet spot have banished rare. 
 
 Sweet glen ! till now, in verse unsung,- — 
 And now, by unaccustomed tongue, — 
 Though bard hath thrown his witching spel 
 O'er many a less romantic dell. 
 
42 
 
 Perhaps, against my simple lay, 
 Some skilful critic will inveigh ; 
 Yet not one radiant charm of thine 
 Shall with diminished lustre shine, 
 Nor shall I find attraction less 
 Within thy shady, calm recess. 
 
BEVERLY. 
 
 Here, on this height, * I pause awhile, 
 Ere I my homeward walk pursue, 
 
 Each scene now bright with Summer's smile 
 With well delighted gaze to view. > 
 
 The cooling breeze that fans my cheek, 
 
 And tosses sportively my hair, 
 In gentle whispers seems to speak 
 
 Of childhood's dreams and visions fair : 
 
 * Powder -house hilL 
 
44 
 
 It wafts around me memories 
 Of early boyhood's halcyon time, 
 
 When with lithe step I crossed yon leas, 
 This ragged hill's ascent to climb. 
 
 To me it seemed a mountain, then ; 
 
 And when I gained its airy brow, 
 And looked down on the marshy fen, 
 
 And blooming fields spread out below, 
 
 And then the village roofs surveyed, 
 Or, eastward, saw the glistening main, 
 
 Novel emotions would pervade, 
 
 In rushing crowds, my youthful brain. 
 
 How, as o'er these familiar spots, 
 With feelings more matured, I range, 
 
 Cluster half-sad, half-pleasing thoughts 
 Of human life's progressive change ! 
 
45 
 
 My birth-place !- though the sweetest ties 
 
 Endear another spot to me, 
 Still hallowed thoughts within me rise, 
 
 Fond, lingering thoughts, of love for thee ! 
 
 For here my life its course began — 
 
 My infant mind unfolded here ; 
 About these village streets I ran, 
 
 In healthful sports, for many a year. 
 
 Improvement's march has not displaced 
 All boundaries of my old play-grounds, 
 
 Though Time some outlines hath erased 
 
 From spots which Memory's light surrounds. 
 
 Down yonder, where a foot-path leads 
 'Neath trees, on dusky Summer eves, 
 
 Some comrade would rehearse the deeds 
 Of a Sinbad," or the " Forty Thieves ; " 
 
46 
 
 Till mingled fear and wonder filled 
 Each artless, inexperienced mind ; 
 
 And each, while trudging homeward, held 
 His breath, and scarcely looked behind. 
 
 Through yonder lane, to school, I passed, 
 Called by the jingling bell, each day, 
 
 When fiercely roared the wintry blast, 
 Or Summer's bloom bedecked the way. 
 
 Yet standing is the mulberry tree 
 Beneath whose foliage I reclined, 
 
 With playmates, scattered now, to see 
 Bass River through the valley wind. 
 
 Through fields where waved the ripening grain, 
 Or where the herds were wont to feed, 
 
 Now onward glides the freighted train, 
 Drawn by the hissing, fiery steed. 
 
• 
 
 47 
 
 Bfcyond where now my eye can reach, 
 We wandered by the ocean -side, 
 
 To bathe, or on the sloping beach 
 To frolick with the rising tide. 
 
 Across the Common, training-days, 
 Elate with childish bliss, I strayed, 
 
 To hear the drum and fife, and gaze 
 On ranks in martial dress arrayed. 
 
 The meeting-house, whose steepled tower 
 Long shadows in the street would throw, 
 
 With dial-plate that marked the hour, 
 And many-pillared portico, 
 
 Is changed by Art's remodelling hand, — 
 Its tall, old-fashioned spire removed, 
 
 And oaken frame — which yet doth stand — 
 By cultured, modern taste improved. 
 
48 
 
 I well remember how. when led. 
 
 On Sundays, through the old church door, 
 I heard, with childish awe and dread, 
 
 My footsteps creak upon the floor. 
 
 Seated within the square, high pew, 
 1 looked to see the parson rise : 
 
 His mien my fixed attention drew. 
 
 For love beamed from his mild, dark eyes 
 
 And somehow superhuman seemed 
 His placid countenance benign ; 
 
 Like Moses', when his features gleamed 
 With radiance from the mount divine. 
 
 Returning from a foreign isle. 
 
 Years since, he gained his heavenly rest : 
 Yet I behold again his smile — 
 
 His form, in bands and surplice dressed. * 
 
 * Atii^l Abbott, D. D. 
 
49 
 
 A stone's-thrqw from my early home, — 
 Where a neat structure rises now, 
 
 With gilded vane above its dome, 
 
 And snow-white painted tower below, — 
 
 A large, plain edifice once reared 
 Its square-roofed belfry in the air ; 
 
 And on its green sward oft appeared 
 The village lads, assembled there 
 
 In games and rival feats of strength 
 The early evening hours to spend, 
 
 Or, on the grass reclined at length, 
 
 Strange fancies with the stars to blend. 
 
 Ah ! free and jovial days, that sped 
 Away in Time's unceasing race, 
 
 Each month and year that since have fled 
 With doubled speed have joined the chase I 
 
50 
 
 Voices, that from the past arise, 
 For one an humble tribute- claim, 
 
 Whose generous self-sacrifice 
 
 Here wove a garland for his name. * 
 
 When Dissipation swayed the land, 
 And thousands by its wiles were slain, 
 
 Its fearful ravage to withstand, 
 
 His voice was raised, not all in vain ; 
 
 For conscience-blinded men, who long 
 The unhallowed traffic had pursued, 
 
 Yielded, though love of gain was strong, 
 At his persuasive attitude. 
 
 He shared the true Reformer's fate : 
 Reproach, estrangement of old friends, 
 
 False imputation ; and the hate 
 That oft stern Duty's path attends. 
 
 * Rev. David Olipfaant. 
 
51 
 
 But since, within the lapse of years, 
 The righteous cause of human weal 
 
 Hath dried unnumbered founts of tears, 
 And countless souls its raptures feel ; 
 
 Now, — while above New-England hills 
 Her stainless, radiant banner waves, — 
 
 The Genius of the sparkling rills 
 
 The lost from burning death-thirst saves ; 
 
 Reason ( with eye unfilmed ) surveys, 
 
 In calm, dispassionate review, 
 Scenes once enacted here, and pays 
 
 To worth the honor justly due. 
 
 My native town ! the voice, raised first 
 
 Amid parochial walks, to free 
 Thy dwellers from inebriate-thirst, 
 
 Hath blessed thee with Sobriety ! 
 
52 
 
 Hope ! ye who strive with Wrong's fell power, 
 
 And suffer moral martyrdom : 
 Serene shall be your triumph-hour, 
 
 Which, soon or late, will surely come ! 
 
 Not here forgotten be the sage, * 
 
 Who, in his mansion by the sea, 
 Wears, in his hale, advancing age, 
 
 The wreath of civic probity. 
 
 Some lustrous names might I inweave 
 With the plain tissue of my verse, 
 
 Whose fit encomiums I leave 
 For other voices to rehearse : 
 
 Names, tinged with deepening hues of fame, 
 Of those who, by the pen and tongue, 
 
 Have, for some worthier, lofty aim, 
 The bow of human purpose strung. 
 
 * Hon. R. RantouL 
 
53 
 
 The sun, inclining to the west, 
 
 Bids me start on my way once more, 
 
 That I may reach my home, ere rest 
 The evening shadows round the door. 
 
 No spot nor clime hath circumscribed 
 My soul's broad sympathies and love ; 
 
 Yet predilections strong, imbibed 
 
 In youth, my pulse with pleasure move 
 
 More blissful far, the thought, to me, 
 That here, perchance, I may have cast 
 
 The truth that makes some brother free 
 From mental fetters of the past ! 
 
TOKENS OF REMEMBRANCE. 
 
 Association's magic power, 
 Before our mental sight, arrays 
 
 The joys of many a vanished hour — 
 The friends, the scenes, of other days. 
 
 A smile, a glance, a word, a song, 
 Will oft recall some vision fled ; 
 
 While varied memories glide along 
 Thought's undissevered, mystic thread. 
 
55 
 
 'T is thus, from Time's oblivious clasp, 
 As he along our pathway hastes, 
 
 Some talismanic charm we grasp, 
 To cheer us in life's desert wastes. 
 
 So, while our years are gliding fast, 
 Amid augmenting cares, we '11 cherish 
 
 Some fond mementoes of the past — 
 
 Some impress of the flowers that perish. 
 
56 
 
 SONNET— THE TIDE. 
 
 When Ocean's tide is swelling inward to the land, 
 
 In long, smooth billows, with continuous roar, 
 
 How stealthily the waves upon the pebbly shore 
 
 Move onward, like the advancing, shadowy hand 
 
 Over the dial's face. If on the beach you stand, 
 
 Unheeding, near where last the surf and pebbles 
 
 met, 
 Perchance, the next wave o'er your feet may 
 burst, and wet 
 The shore beyond, and dim with spray the spark- 
 ling sand. 
 There is a tide of Truth and Mercy rising now, 
 That, as resistless as the sea, its way shall urge 
 Wherever Wrong and Ignorance man's spirit bow, 
 And, hourly gaining, through the world of mind 
 shall surge, 
 Until its cleansing, healing waves shall overflow 
 The last landmarks of Error, Sinfulness and Woe ! 
 
->7 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 TO A BATTLE -MONUMENT, 
 
 STANDING IN A PUBLIC STREET. 
 
 Plain shaft ! in this thronged thoroughfare upraised, 
 To the else thoughtless passer-by to tell 
 Of brave, young hearts, and manly forms, that fell 
 
 In sanguinary conflict, when war blazed 
 
 With sudden flash, — a prelude of the storm 
 Of desolating strife that swept the land, 
 
 Till men high-souled, with patriotism warm, 
 O'ercame the power of the invading band ; — 
 
 Often, when on thy tablet I have gazed, 
 
 I 've thought thee like some man, who — firm, un- 
 bent 
 
 In soul-integrity — has, whether praised 
 
 Or blamed, been true, — a living monument, 
 
 Rising above the cringing coward-throng, 
 
 As thy form towers o'er men that pass along ! 
 
THE ACCEPTABLE FAST. 
 
 Isaiah, Iviii. 5 — 7. 
 
 how sriall I keep the acceptable Fast ? 
 On the altar what penitent meed shall I cast ? 
 If my head, like a bulrush, in sorrow, I bow, 
 While Humanity's rights I refuse to allow, — 
 If, still, from the needy, relief I withhold, 
 And gaze on the wretched with sympathies cold, 
 Though loudly I* utter the penitent's wail, 
 The service will naught with mv Father avail. 
 
59 
 
 My soul from the bondage of sin I must loose, 
 And the service of virtue and happiness choose ; 
 Assist in undoing the fetters that bind 
 The limbs of the body, and cripple the mind ; 
 Kemove from the sad, and the sin-stricken heart, 
 The burden of grief, and the poisonous dart ; 
 Oppression's yoke break, and the bondman set free, 
 And hasten the dawning of Earth's jubilee ! 
 
« THE DEAR GOD." * 
 
 sweetly hallowed be each thought 
 
 Of that wise, changeless Being, 
 Who gives us life, with blessings fraught, 
 
 And, with an eye all-seeing, 
 Regards His children, from above, 
 With infinite, unceasing love. 
 
 * Hon. Horace Mann, Secretary of the Massachusetts 
 Board of Education, in his Annual Report for 1S44, in 
 speaking of the " Exercises in Thinking," as they are 
 called, which he witnessed in the public schools of Leipsic, 
 during his then recent tour in Europe, says : — "I found 
 the religious aspects of nature to be most frequently ad- 
 verted to, and was daily delighted with the reverent and 
 loving manner in which the name of the Deity was always 
 spoken, — Der liebe Gott, the dear God, was the universal 
 form of expression ; and the name of the Creator of heav- 
 en and earth was rarely ever spoken without this epithet 
 of endearment." 
 
61 
 
 The health-imparting, fluid air — 
 The genial rain descending — 
 
 The sun, to field and landscape fair 
 His heat and radiance lending,— 
 
 Attest the love of that " dear God,' 1 
 
 "Who strews their welcome gifts abroad. 
 
 He ever seeks our souls to win, 
 
 By images of beauty, 
 From grovelling aims — from sloth and sin, 
 
 By gentle calls to duty ; 
 And, for our guidance, His " dear Son " 
 The goal of purity hath won. 
 
 Let shadows of distrust and gloom 
 From human vista vanish ; 
 
 And even from around the tomb, 
 Let Faith dark phantoms banish : 
 
62 
 
 For in the clime beyond Death's vale, 
 Are founts of life that never fail. 
 
 Our souls are free from guilty thrall, 
 White Virtue's path pursuing : 
 
 Then, " as dear children," let us all 
 Our Father's will be doing ; 
 
 And show our filial gratitude, 
 
 In earnest toil for others' good ! 
 
63 
 
 SONNET — APRIL. 
 
 The bright, gay season hath again come round, 
 When Earth arouses from her dormant sleep — 
 When through half-opened lids of wild-flowers 
 peep 
 
 Coy floral sprites, awakened by the sound 
 
 Of brooks, that laugh and shout in ecstasy, 
 
 Frenzied with joy that they are free once more 
 From Winter's sway, which late unawed he bore. 
 
 Blue-birds and robins tune their minstrelsy, 
 While rays of morning twilight scarce illume, 
 With misty radiance, my curtained room : 
 
 Reclining, slumberous, on my couch, I hear 
 At intervals their cheerful, twittering notes, 
 Till some sweet boyhood-rision round me floats, 
 
 And voices of my early mates seem near I 
 
64 
 
 TO THE HUMAN FACE. 
 
 Dial of Thought ! the inmost soul revealing, 
 Through mystic lights and shadows o'er thee steal- 
 ing— 
 The eye, with spirit-radiance o'er it thrown, 
 The index of emotion else unknown, — 
 Impress divine and glorious thou bearest. 
 The lineaments of Deity thou wearest, 
 
 Though dimmed by sordidness, by treachery 
 
 marred, 
 Or by the lightning of fierce passions scarred. 
 When through thy features Truth and Goodness 
 
 shine, 
 Thou art well called the "human face divine.'" 
 
65 
 
 WISH YOU HAPPY NEW YEAE. 
 
 1 wish all the world a happy new year ! 
 
 May all soon be freed from the thraldom of Fear — 
 
 From the fetters of bondage to Error and Sin ; 
 
 And, O may this year a new era begin, 
 
 When Right shall prevail, and man shall abhor 
 
 The demons — Intemperance, Slavery, War ; 
 
 When the earth shall be filled with the knowledge 
 of God, 
 
 And Peace scatter blessings unnumbered abroad ! 
 
68 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 Mrs. Pelby's Statuary of the "Last Supper." 
 
 A group of life-size, wax figures, intended to represent 
 
 Jesus and the Twelve, at the moment when 
 
 he announced that one of them 
 
 should betray him. 
 
 How thrillingly impressive is this scene ! 
 On Fancy's fetterless, ethereal wing, 
 To the far Orient swift -journeying, 
 
 Yv r here dwelt, long since, the lowly Nazarene, 
 
 ( His precepts blameless, and his life serene,) 
 I seem within his presence now to stand, 
 Awed, charmed; and held, as by a- spirit-hand, 
 
 in admiration of his heavenly mien ! 
 
 And while, amid the startled group, I see 
 
 Each wistful glance, and countenance dismayed, 
 
 By Art and Genius vividly portrayed, 
 Methinks, in my rapt, musing reverie, 
 
 There falls from each the anxious, saddened cry. — 
 
 E'en from the traitor's lips, — " Lord, is it I ? " 
 
SONG 
 
 Three times hath the Earth worn her mantle of 
 snow, 
 And thrice hath she doffed it, at gay Spring's re- 
 turn, — 
 And now, once again, Winter's chill breezes blow, — 
 Since we sought wedded life's varied lessons to 
 learn. 
 
 This evening, my love, as We sit by our lire, 
 While the fleecy snow rattles without on the pane, 
 
 Blest thoughts are awakening, as winds from a lyre, 
 From my heart-chords, a simple, yet musical 
 
 strain. 
 
68 
 
 The bliss of fidelity well have we proved ; 
 
 We have "wintered and summered " each other, 
 and know 
 That far as the East from the West is removed, 
 Is distrust from the hearts that with pure friend- 
 ship glow. 
 
 Though of wealth we have none, health and peace 
 are our lot — 
 One dear little prattler our happiness crowns ! 
 
 While Heaven shall thus bless us, we will care 
 not 
 
 Whether on the world's face there are smiles or 
 dark frowns ! 
 
 Dcc, ; 1844. 
 
69 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 TO ONE DEPARTED. 
 
 She contemplated her exit from this life with singular calm- 
 ness and resignation, and during some of the last 
 hours of her earthly existence, presented ar- 
 ticles, designed as keepsakes, to sev- 
 eral friends and associates. 
 
 Lamented sister ! often shall thy name, 
 
 In homes where thou wert loved, be fondly spoken; 
 And, from thy friends, Remembrance oft shall claim 
 . A tear, while gazing on some cherished token 
 Bestowed by thee when cruel, wasting Death 
 
 His fell, destroying work had nearly finished, 
 But when Faith's triumph lingered on thy breath, 
 
 And in thy features Hope shone undiminished. 
 The patient, meek example thou hast left, 
 
 Thy confidence, in darkest hours unshaken, 
 Shall long abide in kindred hearts bereft, 
 
 And sweet, consolatory thoughts awaken. 
 The trustful lesson thou hast taught shall be 
 A star, to gild their course across life's sea ! 
 
INSTALLATION HYMN. 
 
 To Thee, whose love rejoices 
 
 Each varied human lot, 
 With thanks, we lift our voices, 
 
 For blessings Truth has wrought 
 For hopes, our pathway cheering, 
 
 Whene'er 'mid shades it lies, 
 More sacredly endearing 
 
 Life's fondlv hallowed ties. 
 
71 
 
 Lord ! bless him now renewing 
 
 His early vows to Thee, 
 His soul with love imbuing, 
 
 And truth that rnaketh free ! 
 Here may his ministrations 
 
 Win hearts from sin and strife 
 And be his exhortations 
 
 All mirrored in his life ! 
 
 May he, to souls desiring 
 
 Increasing light to see, 
 With meekness still inquiring, 
 
 An humble helper be. 
 And oft, from cares here resting, 
 
 Thy presence may we feel, 
 Devotion's power attesting 
 
 The spirit's wounds to heal. 
 
72 
 
 And when — life's dim torch waning 
 
 Earth's scenes in mist recede, 
 Majr Faith, with staff sustaining, 
 
 Our trembling footsteps lead ; 
 Till seraph-guides, attending 
 
 Our chill, untrodden wa}~, 
 Death's vale of shadows rending, 
 
 The world of light display ! 
 
CHRISTMAS HYMN. 
 
 The Oriental skies, 
 
 With myriad, beaming eyes r 
 
 Intently gazed 
 Upon Ephratah's plains, 
 Where rustic shepherd-swains, 
 Awed by seraphic strains, 
 
 Stood, sore amazed. 
 
 And brighter glowed each sphere^ 
 As fell on mortal ear, 
 With thrilling tone, 
 
74 
 
 The angel's joyous lay : 
 " Fear not ! To you, this day, 
 A Savior 's born, whose sway 
 The world shall own ! " 
 
 in. 
 
 Long years have passed away 
 Since that blest natal day — 
 
 That jubilee ! 
 But Jesus' spirit lives ! 
 Still, as of old, it gives 
 Peace to the soul that strives 
 
 For purity. 
 
 When Winter reigns around; 
 In forest-groves are found 
 Emblems of Truth ! 
 
75 
 
 Emblems of Jesus' love, • 
 
 Which shall unchanging prove. 
 And crown, in worlds above, 
 With endless youth ! 
 
 v. 
 
 While flowers of beauteous hue 
 No longer greet our view, 
 
 'Mid Winter's gloom, 
 Bright verdure here we bring — 
 Nature's pure offering ! — 
 Type of immortal Spring 
 
 And fadeless bloom ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 Amid Time's change and blight, 
 Truth's verdure fresh and bright 
 Preserving still, 
 
76 
 
 May we with seraphs chime — 
 " To God, be praise sublime ! 
 To man, in every clime, 
 
 Peace and good will ! " 
 
AN INCIDENT. 
 
 A fair, young girl was languishing upon the bed 
 of death, 
 
 And feebler, at each rising sun, she drew her fail- 
 ing breath. 
 
 Scarce eighteen Summers in her path had thrown 
 
 their light and shade, 
 When thus, upon her dying couch, her gentle form 
 
 was laid. 
 
 I had known her in her gayer hours, her hours of 
 
 seeming health, 
 Ere the destroyer's hand had seized her youthful 
 
 bloom by stealth ; 
 
78 
 
 And I wondered at the trustfulness and peace of 
 
 one so young, 
 As words of resignation calm, and hope, fell from 
 
 her tongue. 
 
 While down her sunken cheek, and round her brow 
 
 like marble fair, 
 Fell droopingly her tresses of moist and raven hair ; 
 
 While in her full, dark, glancing eyes, unearthly 
 
 lustre' shone, 
 To young associates, standing by, she spoke, in 
 
 cheerful tone, 
 
 And asked each one some parting boon — some 
 gift -book — -to confer, 
 
 That to her mind should be, of each, the loved re- 
 membrancer ! 
 
79 
 
 They deemed her thoughts were wandering, so 
 
 novel her request, 
 But promised fall compliance, as again the wish 
 
 she pressed. 
 
 Within her wasted hand I placed a little volume^ 
 
 filled 
 With soothing words wherethrough were Hope and 
 
 trusting Faith instilled : 
 
 And on each day, while strength remained to raise 
 
 her drooping head, 
 Intently, with joy-'lumined face, page after page 
 
 she read. 
 
 Her spirit passed from earth as floats away the 
 
 bell's last chime — 
 Gently, as Summer's waning hours first merge in 
 
 Autumn-time. 
 
so 
 
 When in my thoughts, on that desire that seemed 
 
 at first so strange, 
 I ruminate, I deem that from the sphere beyond 
 
 earth's change, 
 
 Some revelation dim, some hint, or mystic thought 
 
 was given, 
 Foreshadowing the lengthened chain of memory 
 
 in heaven ! 
 
 For, if our souls outlive decay, and, in a loftier 
 
 state, 
 Eetain identity unchanged, save with pure joy 
 
 elate, 
 
 May not impressions that we from some pondered 
 
 page derive, 
 Close -linked with vivid images of friends, all 
 
 change survive ? 
 
CHASING BUTTERFLIES. 
 
 In blithesome, early childhood, 
 
 Ere toil or care I knew, 
 I used to wander in the lane 
 
 Where dandelions grew, 
 To chase the yellow butterflies, 
 
 Through herbage wet with dew, 
 As swift -away, on glancing wings, 
 
 From flower to flower, they flew. 
 
 And, flushed with expectation, 
 The glittering prize to gain, 
 
 With eager, breathless haste I ran 
 Down through the grassy lane, 
 
 10 
 
S2 
 
 And over walls and fences climbed. — ■ 
 
 But, often, all in vain, 
 Chagrined, I saw the insect-form 
 
 Far o'er the heathy plain. 
 
 Or, if I reached the beauty, 
 
 Where on a bush he sat, 
 And raised, in trembling ecstasy, 
 
 My little summer -hat, 
 And closed it o'er him, even theij. 
 
 Sometimes ,_ my wish was foiled. 
 For dim and worthless he appeared. 
 
 With winglets crushed and soiled. 
 
 Yielding the spoil, I started 
 
 My homeward way to trace. 
 With shoes and stockings wet and stained; 
 
 And glowing, sun-burnt face. 
 
83 
 
 Thus thousands, 'mid the world's great throng-, 
 
 In restless chase pursue 
 Phantoms that flit, like butterflies, 
 
 Before their dazzled view : 
 
 Gay votaries of Fashion, 
 
 With fascinating airs, 
 Or splendid schemes of grandeur, wealth, 
 
 And freedom from life's cares ; — 
 These lure, till disappointment's sting 
 
 The mind to anguish goads ; 
 Or, if attained, ofttimes their zest 
 
 Satiety corrodes ! 
 
K£,F Y 0F CONGRESS 
 
 M . , L 
 
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