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"Happy the man, who studying nature's laws, 
 Through known effects can trace the secret cause- 
 
 His mind possessing in a quiet state, 
 Fearless ot Fortune; and resigned to Fate! 
 
 And happy too is he, who decks the bowers 
 Of sylvans, and adore the rural powers." 
 Virgil. 
 
 Mr. Rees Jones Lewis, familiarly known 
 among his neighbors and friends in and about 
 Kansas City as Judge Lewis, is one who has 
 lived close to nature's heart. Mr. Lewis is a 
 native of Rjidnershire in Wales and came to 
 Missouri in 1858. Having attained a modest 
 competency he has been philosopher enough to 
 pass his later years amid the refining, restful 
 scenes of country life. In a contemplative way 
 he has enjoyed the ever varied charms of na- 
 ture, reading and re-reading the "story book" 
 she has written for her children, and studying 
 her laws of beauty, harmony and wisdom. 
 This voluntary renunciation of the artificial 
 honors that make men conspicuous among their 
 
fellows, to fully enjoy his own intellectual im- 
 aginative world is w^orthy of imitation. Ho 
 who exalts the spiritual at the expense of the 
 material is helping to lift humanity to its nat- 
 ural plane. 
 
 These poems, children of his fancy, are the . 
 creations of a facile pen, and their cheerful 
 optimism is the outgrowth of a happy, rational 
 theology that might well be embraced by the 
 long-faced contingent of every community. 
 This little collection is but a fragment of what 
 Mr. Lewis has given to his friends at various 
 social gatherings during the past twenty years, 
 but they will serve to remind all who know him 
 of a genial,- kindly, cheery man who did all in 
 his power to make life appear as bright to 
 others as it always has to himself, and whose 
 heart has been always responsive to every les- 
 son that gave proof of immortality. 
 
 Laura Coates Reed. 
 
'SouT (LewWies 
 
 AND OTHER 
 
 POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 / 
 R. J. LEWIS. 
 
 Published by 
 
 H. T. WRIGHT. 
 
 Kansas City, Mo., U. S. A. 
 

 Copyrighted 1898 
 By R. J. LEWIS. 
 
 Westport Mo. 
 
 ryoCOHES RECEIVtO 
 
 
 
 DEG291S38 
 
 
INVOCATION 
 
 give me no\v angelic muse 
 
 Some soothing sweet pathetic dream, 
 Of rural scene of lowly life 
 Some sweet poetic theme. 
 
 I would not eing of diamonds bright 
 Nor of gems from o'er the sea, 
 Nor of sculptured figures briglit 
 Such have few charms for me. 
 
 1 would not sing of gold array 
 Of fortune or of fame ; . 
 
 I would not sing the heros praise 
 At best 'tis but a name. 
 
 teach me then celestial muse 
 Thy lesson to impart. 
 Let me in gentle numbers tell 
 The throbbing of the heart. 
 
 Yes : let me sing the sam^e old song 
 Of Edens garden bower, 
 Let love be the golden theme 
 Love, the all absorbing power. 
 
NIAGARA. 
 
 Dread Niagara, I stand before thee 
 
 And liBten to the thoughts thy waters teach, - 
 
 Of time, eternity, and the dread Infinity. 
 
 I hear thee tell when the earth was 
 
 In her primal verdure dressed ; 
 
 When the mountains were brought forth 
 
 From chaotic depths of ocean ; 
 
 V/hen rivers first began to run ; 
 
 When thou thyself, with all thy wrath 
 
 Of waves, was held, perchance, in durance 
 
 By adamantine chains. 
 
 I hear thee tell when the great 
 
 Inland seas first brought thee forth, 
 
 To begin th}^ onward way to oceans 
 
 Broad domains. 
 
 I hear thee tell of countless ages past, 
 
 Not marked in mans historic lore, 
 
 But only noted in the rocky volume 
 
 Of thy deep indented bed. 
 
 I hear thee tell of that dread time 
 
 When the great deep was broken up. 
 
 And Heavens windows opened wide, 
 
 When the sun withdrew his face, 
 
 5 
 
And when thou' mid the rush of greater fiooda 
 
 Was lost, when torrents from Heaven's gate 
 
 Thy identity effaced. 
 
 I hear thee tell when the etherial bow 
 
 First bung on tbe fleecy cloud. 
 
 And now thy awful voice 
 
 Seems to say to him who stands before thee, 
 
 How small, how fleeting are the things 
 
 Of time; how weak, how transient 
 
 Are the works of man. 
 
 But how infinite the power, the love 
 
 Of Him who holds the waters in His hand, 
 
 And taught thee thus to sing His praise 
 
 From creations dawn, 
 
 Till time shall be no more. 
 
 THE MOON. 
 
 Come listen, ye grangers, and farmers as well, 
 A lesson you each should learn soon ; 
 
 Then hear, while faintly I tell 
 
 Of the magical lore of the moon. 
 
Your pork, your beef, and your mutton as well, 
 If butchered a minute too soon, 
 
 Will shrink in the pot if the weather is hot, 
 If killed in the dark of the moon. 
 
 Just so with the fur or peltry you take. 
 From the guinea pig up to the coon, 
 
 Will shed, if not stripped in right time, 
 AVhich is in the light of the m^oon. 
 
 And so with the animals too. 
 
 From an M. C. to a baboon, 
 The measles or mumps will always strike in 
 
 If had just out of the moon. 
 
 And so with the seeds 
 
 You plant in your garden so soon. 
 Will all run to top or root, 
 
 EiCher way — if not planted somehow in the 
 moon. 
 
 While some we'll advise to plant in good land. 
 
 Not too late, or never too soon. 
 But the true way is never mind that. 
 
 Bat always plant in the moon. 
 
 7 
 
As the moon-eyed of earth this knowledge have 
 found, 
 
 We hope they will publish it soon, 
 And forever to settle it right, 
 
 Let them post it all up in the moon. 
 
 FIVE YEARS OLD. 
 
 We learn of countless treasures, 
 Of silver mines and gold. 
 But what can give me pleasure 
 Like our boy who is five years old. 
 
 We hear of varied scenery, 
 
 Of silver mines and gold. 
 
 But what can gladden eyes of love 
 
 Like a boy who is five years old. 
 
 The sunshine has a brighter glow. 
 The earth more joys untold. 
 To him who has the priceless gift — 
 A boy who is five years old. 
 
 The earth has much to cheer and love 
 Besides more wealth and gold 
 There is much to love, much to hope 
 In a boy who is five years old. 
 
ma}^ the heart of him we love 
 Be ever pure and bold, 
 Be ever full of liope and love 
 As now when five vears old. 
 
 THE STRANGER. 
 
 He came like a gentle flower 
 That blooms in ea,rly spring, 
 All fraught with love and beauty, 
 A sweet and joyous thing; 
 But like the fragile flower 
 That early meets its doom, 
 Our love, our hope, our darling 
 Has filled an early tomb. 
 But as in the next years morning 
 The plant again will bloom. 
 So this spirit, bright, immortal, 
 Will live beyond the tomb. 
 But not like the transient flower 
 V/ith its stated time of rest 
 But in one ceaseless hallelujah 
 Among the good and blest. 
 
THE BLUEBIP.D. 
 
 The blue bird is piping 
 
 Hie notes on the lea ; 
 
 He says that Spring is now coming 
 
 For you and for me. 
 
 The blue bird is happy, 
 
 He is blithe, and he's gay, 
 
 He is merry at morn 
 
 And sings all the day. 
 
 O, how much of joy 
 
 Does his presence impart; 
 
 He is a light in the landscape 
 
 A joy to each heart. 
 
 Then sing on thou bright bird. 
 
 May thy song have no end ; 
 
 Every lover of music 
 
 Is ever thy friend. 
 
 May you find food for your young, 
 
 A perch for your rest. 
 
 May love, light and music 
 
 Encircle your nest. 
 
TED O'LEARY. 
 
 His name was Ted O'Leary, 
 
 He left old Erin's shore 
 
 To seek a kinder fortune 
 
 Beyong old ocean's roar. 
 
 He left the old thatched cottage 
 
 Down by the Shannons side, 
 
 He left his darling Norah, 
 
 Who was to be his bride. 
 
 But och, 'twas hard, the parting 
 
 From Erin's verdant isle, 
 
 The only gleam of sunshine 
 
 His Norah's loving smile ; 
 
 But the tide was outward flowing, 
 
 The last boat has left the shore, 
 
 The farewell words were spoken. 
 
 The parting pang is o'er. 
 
 The signal bell is ringing, 
 
 The vessel leaves the shore, 
 
 The exile leaves his country. 
 
 To return, perhaps, no more. 
 
 Now the green, green shores of Erin 
 
 Are parting from his view. 
 
But the exiles heart is tender, 
 
 'Tis loving, warm and true. 
 
 And whereso'er he'l! wander, 
 
 Be his fortunes flush or few, 
 
 His heart will ever center 
 
 Doar Erin still in \ou. 
 
 But while he mourns his country 
 
 He is sighing to be free, 
 
 fair land of freedom 
 
 He is longing now for thee; 
 
 He hopes ihat some bright morning 
 
 That some full flowing tide 
 
 Will bring his trusting Norah 
 
 To be his blushing bride. 
 
 But wherever smiling fortune 
 
 May cast his future lot. 
 
 His long loved home of Erin 
 
 Will never be forgot. 
 
 * ¥: * * 
 
 But now we view our exile 
 At home in freedom's land. 
 And by his" side his Norah — 
 Hie own, both heart and hand. 
 Now long live Ted O'Leary 
 
 12 
 
With love and freedom blest, 
 Let him sing the songs of Erin 
 In the loved land of the west. 
 
 THE SOLDIER. 
 
 Behold a Union soldier 
 
 In marching on his way, 
 
 Hig step is growing shorter. 
 His hair is turning gray. 
 
 But though he is slowly failing, 
 He still remembers well 
 
 The time of heroic story — 
 
 The days of shot and shell. 
 
 He minds him well the morning 
 He left his cottage door. 
 
 His weeping wife and babies, 
 Perhaps to see no more. 
 
 But a hero's heait was in him, 
 
 He had heard his country call 
 
 And for her flag and honor 
 He'd freely give his all. 
 
 13 
 
But now peace has waved her bainDer 
 All o'er Columbia's land, 
 
 And the blue and gray together 
 Are marching hand in hand. 
 
 No more in hostile armies 
 Do they as foemeji meet, 
 
 But one aim, one flag, one country, 
 Fraternally they greet. 
 
 And thou our starry banner 
 Art known in every land, 
 
 Thou art borne aloft in glory 
 Placed by a soldiers hand. 
 
 And more, our glorious country 
 Is united, rich and free. 
 
 All hail, Union soldier. 
 We owe it all to thee. 
 
 THE FLAG. 
 
 Float on thou glorious banner, 
 Thou emblem of the free, 
 Float on in pride and beauty 
 By mountain, plain and sea; 
 
Wave o'er the sixty millions 
 
 Of the fair, the brave, the free, 
 
 And guard the coming millions 
 
 Of freemen yet to be. 
 
 May thy stars increase in number, 
 
 Let each distinctly shine. 
 
 And all from one Constellation, 
 
 Majestic arid sublime. 
 
 Yes float on through all ages 
 
 In peace and battle roar, 
 
 Wave on, in hope and power 
 
 Till time shall be no more. 
 
 THE TWO BOYS. 
 
 I remember, I remember 
 In the time long away. 
 Two boys, bright boys. 
 Bright, bright boys were they. 
 
 'Tv/as mine to teach them, 
 
 To guide them on their way; 
 
 It was a pleasing task 
 
 For they were bright, good bright boys were they 
 
 15 
 
The war came od, 
 They gaily marched away, 
 For they were brave, 
 Bright, brave boys were they. 
 
 They met the foe — 
 They fell in the fray, 
 For they were brave. 
 Bright, brave boys were they. 
 
 Thus for the flag 
 
 They gave their lives av/ay, 
 
 The two brave boys, 
 
 Bright, brave boys were they. 
 
 Yes, I remember, 
 
 And though I'm old and gray, 
 
 I can but shed a tear 
 
 For the boys, bright brave boys v/ere they, 
 
 THE SOLDIERS GRAVE. 
 
 'Twas on the Boston mcuntains 
 Near where a streamlet played. 
 Deep in the native wildwood 
 We made the soldier's grave. 
 
 16 
 
The pine tree waved above us, 
 
 Below, a rocky glen, 
 
 The scene itself was wildness, 
 
 Far from the haunts of men. 
 
 The early buds were starting, 
 
 The birds were singing 'round, 
 
 And flowers bright v/ere springing 
 
 All over the mellow ground. 
 
 The soldier was the youngest 
 
 That e'er had joined our squad, 
 
 And now we gently ]aid him 
 
 Beneath the sylvan sod. 
 
 His comrades range around him 
 
 To gaze on his lifeless clay. 
 
 And sigh that he the youngest 
 
 Should thus be called away. 
 
 That farewell shot was given, 
 
 We hastily piled the clay; 
 
 While our hearts were filled with sorrow 
 
 We sadly marched away. 
 
 Again 'tis blooming summer. 
 
 The grass is on the lea, 
 
 The voice of wildwood songsters 
 
 Is heard in grove and tree. 
 
And far on Boston Mountain 
 
 The scene is wild as then. 
 
 The pine tree points toward Heaven, 
 
 The stream foams down the glen. 
 
 Sweet flowers now are blooming, 
 
 The trees their branidies wave 
 
 Seem to breathe a silent requiem 
 
 O^er the soldier's lonely grave. 
 
 The dew is on the mountain 
 
 In many a glistening tear, 
 
 As though Nature wept in silence 
 
 O'er the soldier's grassy bier. 
 
 The pine trees sigh as ever, 
 
 All Nature seems to weep 
 
 As she keeps her silent vigil 
 
 O'er the soldier's endless sleep. 
 
 But the soldier's grave, — where is it? 
 
 No friendly tongue can tell ; 
 
 Clad in sylvan verdure 
 
 Earth keeps her secrets well. 
 
 Alas, in the great rebellion. 
 
 Both on friend and foeman's side 
 
 Many a heroic soldier 
 
 In early manhood died. 
 
They fell upon the mountain, 
 
 Upon the plain as wel], 
 
 And now their final resting place 
 
 No human tongue can tell. 
 
 Now peace has waved her banner 
 
 'From ocean's tide to tide, 
 
 And the Blue and Gray are sleeping, 
 
 Or marching side by side. 
 
 And our flag is proudly waving 
 
 O'er a land where all is free, 
 
 No slave in all her border 
 
 By mountain, plain or sea: 
 
 And we, while in life we linger 
 
 A remnant of the past, 
 
 Our home, our flag, our country 
 
 Will cherish to the last. 
 
 And we this bright morning 
 
 With youth and beauty meet 
 
 To join our brother comrades 
 
 The Nations cause to greet. 
 
 This hope we fondly cherish 
 
 As time wings on his way 
 
 That the fair, the brave, the wisest 
 
 Will greet Memorial Day. 
 
 19 
 
Ar.cl as each blushiDg summer 
 Unfolds her annual bloom, 
 Miiy she shed her brightest treasures 
 On the soldier's honored tomb. 
 
 Ravenna 1888. 
 
 TIME TINGES ALL WITH GRAY. 
 
 "How are you now, rny ancient friend, 
 How do you pass the day? 
 I see that time has made this mark, 
 And tinged you, slight, with gray." 
 
 "Tis many a day since first we met 
 
 Uiwn the green to play, 
 
 Ah little thought \ve then that time, so soon 
 
 Would make his mark of gray." 
 
 'Tis well perhaps, 'tis so decreed 
 That as time wings on his way, 
 To note his footsteps passing by. 
 He tinges all with gray. 
 
 But so it is, the high, the low. 
 
 The youthful and the gay. 
 
 If life holds out 
 
 Will each, like us, receive a tinge of gray. 
 
 20 
 
But while our raven locks may change, 
 As time speeds on his way, 
 O, may our hearts in virtue's path 
 Be never tinged with gray. 
 
 And may w^e ever stand for truth. 
 Help justice on her way. 
 And in the war of human right 
 Be neither week nor gray. 
 
 And when our day of life is o'er, 
 And life is turned to clay, 
 May we meet on the other shore 
 Where time tinges naught with gray. 
 
 HOW SHORT THE LIFE OF FLOWERS, 
 
 How short the life of flowers. 
 How transient is their lot, 
 They bloom but for an hour, 
 Tomorrow they are not. 
 
 Though they smile upon us breifly 
 They cheer us on our way 
 As they come in bright succeasioii 
 Through each long sutnmer day. 
 
 21 
 
And as each blooming flower 
 Casts its leaves upon tlie ground, 
 Some other kind is budding 
 To fill the varied round. 
 
 While in each Spring returning 
 The pansies varied bloom 
 First tells that gentle nature 
 Wakes from her early tomb. 
 
 And in the shades of Autumn 
 When their tints begin to fade, 
 They teach that life and beauty 
 Will in the tomb be laid. 
 
 And if each simple flower 
 Will from its tomb arise, 
 Why will not man in glory 
 Soar above the skies? 
 
 This would seem to be the lesson 
 The modest flower tells, 
 There is a life eternal 
 Where love and beauty dwell. 
 
 This, and many a lesson, 
 From Nature we can learn, 
 
 22 
 
From the grass, the- trees, the flowers, 
 From the seasons in their turn. 
 
 And let us love the flowers 
 That greet us on our way, 
 And ever truly cherish 
 The bright, the true, the gay. 
 
 THE SONG BIRD. 
 
 The song bird is coming 
 With chant and with cheer 
 To gladden all hearts 
 In the spring of the year. 
 
 0, then come thou sweet song bird. 
 
 Tarry not long 
 
 We wait for thy warbling, 
 
 We sigh for thy song. 
 
 Yes, come all thou songsters 
 That chant on the lea. 
 And build your neat nests 
 In the shrub or the tree. 
 
 Come with your love notes. 
 Sweet, lively and gay, 
 
 23 
 
To embellish the scenes 
 In the verdure of May. 
 
 Yes, singhig all the summer 
 With voices ever in tune, 
 With love, joy and music 
 Pass the grandeur of June. 
 
 And cheer with your music 
 Eaoh heart while you stay, 
 And pass the bright summer 
 Full sweetly away. 
 
 Then spare the sweet birds 
 Cut short not their song. 
 To take their poor lives 
 Surely is wrong. 
 
 Their lives are but brief, 
 Let them sing out their day 
 And pass in the autumn 
 With the flowers away. 
 
 THE AUTUMN LEAVES. 
 
 The leaves are falling, falling, falling, 
 Though all the live-long day, 
 
 24 
 
And with the gentle flowers 
 Thej sooD will pass away. 
 
 The breath of winter chilJs them, 
 
 They wither and die 
 
 And in a wreath of beauty 
 
 On the cold, moist earth they lie. 
 
 This is the round of Nature, 
 The bud, the leaf, the bloom, 
 The ripened fruits of Autumn, 
 And then the silent tomb. 
 
 ' Tie Creation's work continued, 
 Finished each passing year. 
 In which are strangely blended, 
 The smile, the hope, the tear. 
 
 Mercer Co., Dec. 1887. 
 
 THE DEW DROP. 
 
 Is not that a dew drop. 
 
 Falling on the flower, 
 Drawn to earth by some attraction, 
 
 By some mystic, subtle power ? 
 
 25 
 
Is not that a leaflet 
 
 DroopiDg to the earth, 
 Sinking soft to slumber, 
 
 From whence it had its birth ? 
 
 Is not that a comet 
 
 Flying athwart the sky. 
 But still, within the power 
 
 That holds the stars on high ? 
 
 The nuts and fruits of autumn 
 
 Are falling daj by day, 
 And all the woodland verdure 
 
 Is fading fast away. 
 
 As with the fruits and flowers. 
 
 The planets as they shine, 
 Waft on their way forever 
 
 To chant His praise sublime. 
 
 Yes, 'tis the same omniscient povv^er, 
 
 The same creative hand. 
 That keeps the sun in motion 
 
 And scatters dew drops on the land, 
 
 26 
 
OCTOBER, 
 
 Yes, I am glad 
 
 When the leaves turn red- 
 
 Before they all are dead 
 
 And then I am sad 
 When the leaves fall 
 And the flowers fade, all 
 
 In October, 
 
 In October 
 
 Life and death seem blended 
 In the ripe, passing year, 
 When the grass cs turning sear 
 
 In October. 
 
 'Tis now the earth is clad in beauty, 
 The grandest in the year ; 
 Who can but shed a tear 
 
 For October. 
 
 Thus may our lives be finished, 
 Crowned with love and beauty, 
 Completed every duty 
 
 In October. 
 
 27 
 
MAY. 
 
 This is the iiionth of flowers, 
 
 So all the poets eay ; 
 'Tis now the birds are gayest 
 
 In the bor.nie month of iMay. 
 
 'Tis novr the grass is greenest, 
 'Tis now the lambkins play, 
 
 'Tis now that moons are brightest, 
 In the bonnie month of May. 
 
 The groves are dressed in verdure. 
 
 In Flora's bright array; 
 All Nature wears her brightest 
 
 In the bonnie month of May. 
 
 Then come, month of flowers, 
 To cheer us on our way. 
 
 And strew our path with gladness 
 In the bonnie month of May. 
 
 But time is still a fleeting, 
 So soon 'twill pass away^, 
 
 But we'll thank the kindly fortune 
 That gives us bonnie Ma}^. 
 
 28 
 
THE LAST OF MAY. 
 
 Alas how soon the moment passes, 
 How fleet time flies away, 
 
 And now they truly tell us 
 It is the last of May. 
 
 We have had the spring's first blushes, 
 How transient was their stay, 
 
 But now they all have faded 
 And 'tis the last of May. 
 
 Thus ever in life's journey, 
 
 Do what we can or say ; 
 Time in his round, as ever, 
 
 Will bring the last of May. 
 
 Then let us as life passes. 
 
 Be right in all we do or say, 
 
 Then in our hearts forever 
 
 Will live sweet blushing May. 
 
 29 
 
THE DEE. 
 
 Is this, i& this the river, 
 
 That flows so bright and free, 
 Is this the noted river, 
 
 The river of the Dee? 
 
 All liail to thee, bright river, 
 
 Thou art known far o'er the sea, 
 
 For the Cjmry tell the story, 
 The story of the Dee. 
 
 Tlioii niind'st nie of my chihlliood, 
 
 While at my fnthnr's knee, 
 I heard him sing the story 
 
 Of the miller— the miller ot the Dee. 
 
 ?vlay our lives, miller. 
 
 Like thine be blithe and free. 
 Of life to make the briglitest, 
 
 Like the jolly milker, the miller of the Dee. 
 
 Then flo\v on bright river. 
 
 May our aims be pure as thee, 
 M:iy (*ur minds be blithe and hia})py 
 
 As the miller of the Dee. 
 
THE CHRISTMAS BELLS. 
 
 The Christmas bells are ringing 
 Out o'er the distant lea, 
 
 Their peals are grandly swelling 
 In lands jjeyond the sea. 
 
 They ring where mellow summer 
 In verdant beauty reigns ; 
 
 They peal where frozen winter 
 Has wrapped his icy chain. 
 
 From the distant isles of ocean 
 Where men so late was vile, 
 
 From the torrid glens of Asia, 
 From Albion's anchored isle. 
 
 From the ancient pile of Peter, 
 From Erin's verdant isle. 
 
 From Iceland's frozen winter 
 Where men alone can smile. 
 
 From the fleeting sands of Egypt, 
 From Siberia's driving snow 
 
 Comes the welcome chorus 
 
 In chimes both high and low. 
 
Yes, round the earth Ib ringing 
 This peal of hope and love, 
 
 It tells of joy eternal 
 
 And endless song above. 
 
 It hails the glorious morning 
 
 That marks the Saviour's )3irth, 
 
 may its thrilling music 
 Gladden all on earth. 
 
 May the bells of Christmas 
 
 Break error's gloomy chain, 
 
 And usher in the morning 
 Of truth's pacific reign. 
 
 DECEMBER. 
 
 The summer has faded, 
 
 The song birds have fled, 
 
 The rose and her sisters 
 
 Are withered and dead. 
 
 Yes, all the bright flowers 
 
 That gladden the May, 
 Have passed in their sweetness 
 
 Like a dewdrop away, 
 
 32 
 
The meadowB are brown, 
 
 The groves dry and sear, 
 
 Proclai ruing the month 
 The hist of the year. 
 
 The frost king is coining 
 From his palace afar 
 
 That ghi^ams cohd and briarht 
 Near the bright polar star. 
 
 The frost work of morning, 
 The ice sharp and clear, 
 
 The snow flakes a flying 
 
 Tell the last of the year. 
 
 Fair nature is taking 
 
 Her annual sleep, 
 From the grass in tlie valley 
 
 To tlse pines on the steep. 
 
 Though tiie bright flowers 
 Are all in their tomb, 
 
 In the sunshine of spring 
 Again they v/ill bloom. 
 
 ;^3 
 
The song birds will come 
 
 With their notes all in tune, 
 
 And gladden the groves 
 
 In the verdure of June. 
 
 Yes, with sunshine and beauty 
 The world will be rife. 
 
 The earth, air and ocean 
 All teeming with life. 
 
 THE RAIN. 
 
 When aricl winds and arid suns 
 Have dried the thirsty plain, 
 
 How welcome is the pleasant shower 
 The drenching, cooling rain. 
 
 It gently wakes to life anew 
 
 The drooping shrub and flower. 
 
 And makes all nature smile again 
 With its mild and gentle power. 
 
 O then, come thou gentle rain 
 On grass, on leaf, on flower, 
 
 That earth, and air. and human life 
 May feel thy soothing power. 
 
 34 
 
LITTLE JIM. 
 
 The cottage door was darkened. 
 The himp was burning dim, 
 
 V/hile on his couch was l.ying 
 Poor faded little Jim. 
 
 Hie puke was running lower, 
 
 His cheek was pale and thin, 
 
 While all Avas growing darker 
 To the eyes of little Jim. 
 
 Around his bed were weeping 
 All his friends and kin. 
 
 They still would yet detain him, 
 Poor dying little Jim. 
 
 One hand still clasps his mother's. 
 She still had hopes for him, 
 
 But the shades are growing thicker 
 Around the couch of little Jim. 
 
 Angelic forms are waiting. 
 Seraph and Cherubim, 
 
 To bear away to glory 
 
 The shade of little Jim. 
 
"Mother, see, a light is coining," 
 
 Said the dying little Jim. 
 He is gone— the angels bear him 
 
 Where all is light to him. 
 
 ALBION. 
 
 All hail to thee, fair Albion's isle, 
 Thou stronghold of the free, 
 
 Thou spot of green, thou choice of earth 
 Thou gem of all the sea. 
 
 Thou art the home of freedom now, 
 And have been since her birth. 
 
 Of human rights a x^erennial spring 
 That flows around the earth. 
 
 Thou art the patriot's cherished home, 
 
 The poet's green retreat ; 
 The cherished friend of all the arts. 
 
 And with thee the muses meet. 
 
 And while thy flag in honor borne 
 Still floats on all the seas. 
 
 May thy voice for truth and right 
 Be heard on every 1)reeze. 
 
Then hail to thee thou Doble land, 
 IMay thy course still omvard be. 
 
 Till thy learning, fame and liberty 
 Pervade all land and sea. 
 
 THE ROAD. 
 
 With plenty of mone}^, 
 And plenty of rocks ; 
 With plenty of muscle 
 And many hard knocks. 
 And when gravel is ai'sent 
 Break your rock fine. 
 Lay it on smo(>thly 
 Straight as a line. 
 Then you will hav^ 
 A smooth, solid road, 
 Firm as the strand 
 Where ocean has flowed. 
 
 GREECE. 
 
 Immortal Greece — 
 
 Whence are they glories fled? 
 W' here slumbers the geuius 
 
 Of thy mighty dead? 
 
 ;]7 
 
Where are the heroes 
 
 Who led the fray 
 By sea and land 
 
 In old Plato's day? 
 
 AYhere are thy poets 
 
 Who wrote the muse inspired page, 
 The joy and pride 
 
 Of every passing age? 
 
 Where are thy artists 
 
 Who wrought the solid stone 
 In forms of life and beauty 
 
 To rival nature's own? 
 
 Where are the builders 
 
 Whose genius seemed divine, 
 Who reared the sacred temple 
 
 In beauty's varied line? 
 
 Alas ! where are they? 
 
 The orators and sages 
 Whose works and lives 
 
 Have enriched all the ages? 
 
Alas ! no voice responds 
 
 From all thy varied shore, 
 
 From 0l3mix)ia's awful front, 
 Nor Delphis's mystic lore. 
 
 But if, as we read. 
 
 Time's best products are the last 
 The coming Greece 
 
 May emulate the past. 
 
 OUT OF A JOB. 
 Briggs, they eay, is busted, 
 
 Fired — -lost his little job; 
 The reason why — he is vriser, 
 
 Knows more than the mob. 
 
 Pie should learn this lesson — 
 
 Go a little slow ; 
 Teach as the fathers taught 
 
 Five hundred years ago. 
 
 The fathers taught the truth, 
 
 Made it clear and plain 
 From what they knew ; 
 
 If so, why Briggs the same? 
 
But this involves some thinking 
 
 On the individual plan, 
 And admits the principle, 
 
 A man is still a man. 
 
 But fear points out a safer way : 
 
 Take on no novel load, 
 But keep in the plain track, 
 
 The middle of the road. 
 
 A DOMESTIC TRAGEDY. 
 
 No wonder lie liad run, 
 
 He was afraid of being late ; 
 The reason was, he had staid too long 
 
 To kiss lier at the gate. 
 
 'Tis wall to be on time, 
 
 Never be too late ; 
 But time is hardly waited 
 
 When you stop to kiss her at the gate 
 
 Time is stiU a living 
 
 Away at a rapid rate. 
 But it wont fly any faster 
 
 If you kiss her at the gate. 
 
 40 
 
Some say that life goes slowly, 
 
 Di-Mgs along at a dreary rate. 
 
 Then letns crowd more in it 
 
 And kiss her at the gate. 
 
 There are many joys and duties 
 That on our pathway w^ait ; 
 
 But few there are more welcome 
 
 Than to kiss her at the gate. 
 
 A poet, famed and hoary, 
 
 Taught to "Labor and to V/ai 
 But I will teach you better, — 
 
 Kiss her at the gate. 
 
 Then young man do not tarry, 
 
 Don't live such a lonely late, 
 
 But wed a guardian angel 
 
 And kiss her at the gate. 
 
 A WINTER MORNING. 
 
 How grand the scene in winter 
 When the sun ushers in the morn, 
 
 When Phoebus late is coming 
 To blow his magic horn. 
 
The frost is on the twiglets 
 \]\d all o'er tlie voried land, 
 
 In tender forms of beauty 
 Wrought by nature's hand. 
 
 'Tifl like a robe of beauty 
 Wove by a hand divine, 
 
 Where all colors, forms and fancies 
 In vnrying beauty shine 
 
 Yes, natures tender etchings 
 Are on the withered gra.^s, 
 
 And on the faded flower 
 She seems to write "alas." 
 
 Thus we can learn from nature. 
 E'en from the frozen dew, 
 
 That Creati(jn still is pending; 
 'Tis oLl, but yet 'tis new. 
 
 FREEDOM. 
 
 Who can tell the story 
 
 Vv^'here freedom had its birth? 
 Vv'ho can paint the fountain 
 
 Whence it flows to all the er^rth? 
 
 42 
 
It came not from Eden's garden, 
 Nor Egypt's ancient plain, 
 
 Nor from Rome or Grecian learning, 
 Nor Indias ancient reign. 
 
 It came not from classic story 
 Where monk or poets pore, 
 
 It came not from singing Sybil 
 Nor Delphis' mystic lore. 
 
 It came from ancient Briton. 
 
 Clad with youth and beauty's smile ; 
 It came in miglit and power 
 
 From Albions anchored isle. 
 
 MY BONNIE BAY MARE, 
 
 Down in a green valley 
 All bleaching and bare, 
 Lie scattered the bones 
 Of my bonnie bay mare. 
 
 They are there in the sunshine 
 They are there in the storm, 
 They are there in the evening. 
 And still there in the morn. 
 
 48 
 
I am sad wlien I see them 
 All crumbling away, 
 And mourn for the loss 
 Of my once bonnie ba\'. 
 
 How gaily at mi^rn 
 ^he bore me away, 
 With footsteps so light 
 And spiri<s so gay. 
 
 Full quickbr she knew me 
 In pasture or stall, 
 And kindly responded 
 To my hail or my call. 
 
 And her eye in true friendship 
 Seemed kindly to shine, 
 As it quickly responded 
 When it met mine. 
 
 Her form was all beauty, 
 Gay, graceful and rare, 
 Ah, few were the peers 
 Of my bonnie bay mare. 
 
But yet ere the snow 
 In the valley is seen, 
 I'll gather the relics 
 From the carpet of green 
 
 And place them in earth 
 With kindliest care, 
 And plant a gre.en tree 
 Fo*r my bonnie bay mare. 
 
 That while in the spring time 
 
 Its foliage rare 
 
 Will mind me of thee 
 
 My bonnie bay mare. 
 
 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 Christmas is coming 
 With all its good cheer, 
 Santa Glaus too 
 Soon will be here. 
 Yes he is coming 
 With lots of good things 
 All kinds of toys 
 Always he brings 
 if) 
 
To give away to good boys and lasses 
 
 As softly by night 
 
 Unseen he posses. 
 
 While we are all here 
 
 Around the green tree 
 
 On this Christmas eve, 
 
 In this land of the free, 
 
 May we hope that all 
 
 In every part of the earth 
 
 May hail with delight 
 
 The Saviors glad birth. 
 
 And now 'round the tree 
 
 We all may be seen 
 
 May our hearts in virtue 
 
 Be over as green. 
 
 RIDDLE, 
 
 I am in the desert, 
 
 I am in the air, 
 I am in all nature, 
 
 Both common and rare. 
 
 46 
 
I am the foundation 
 
 Of organic things, 
 From the lion that roars 
 
 To tlie eong bird that sings. 
 
 I glow in the eheea 
 
 Of the gem clear and bright. 
 And give luster to the eye 
 
 Of beauty and light. 
 
 I am in the etchings 
 
 The ice king displays 
 
 In frostings of beauty 
 
 To meet the sun's rays. 
 
 I am in the gold 
 
 That men seek to win, 
 And in the dull iron. 
 In the copper and tin. 
 
 I am in the flower, 
 
 In its beauty and bloom, 
 I am in the coal mine. 
 
 In darkness and gloom. 
 
was in the beginning 
 
 When the Infinite stood, 
 Finished His labors, 
 
 And said : ''It is good." 
 
 RIDDLE 
 
 The dawn of creation 
 Is the date of my birth ; 
 I am en the ocean, 
 I am on the earth. 
 
 I soar with the storm cloud 
 Tov/ard heaven on high, 
 And love on the wings 
 Of the tempest to fly. 
 
 I deal with tha issues 
 Of death and of life, 
 I am potent in peace 
 And a power in strife. 
 
 Though withont home, 
 Or any staid place, 
 I pervade everything 
 And every known space. 
 
AUTOGRAPH. 
 
 Ill this bright oiid pretty book 
 
 Where friends and strnn,2;er3 often look 
 
 I'll write a. line 
 
 That hero long may Btay 
 
 To cheer you on life's varied way 
 
 As fortune may incline. 
 
 And as I pen this fleeting rhyme, 
 
 I wish that fortune on t<ie may smile 
 
 By night and day. 
 
 May friends tried, true and dear 
 
 Be ever with you, ever near 
 
 To cheer your way. 
 
 And may the morning of your years, 
 Its smiles, its joys, its loves, its tears 
 Be cherished ever. 
 
 FOUR GENTURIEkS. 
 
 Four centuries have passed 
 Rich with the works of man, 
 In this most busy era of the ages. 
 Four centuries have made 
 
 49 
 
Their ample round 
 
 Since a new world wns iisl^erpd in 
 
 To join the nations of the past. 
 
 To give new fields of labor 
 
 For thought, for truth, for di^?covery, 
 
 And for art and learnings aim. 
 
 Four centuries since the histories flag 
 
 Of Spain was borne across 
 
 Atlantics v/ave to conquer worlds anew. 
 
 Four centuries, how much 
 
 The fact suggests, hov^^ much recalls 
 
 Of adventure, by river, 
 
 Lake and plain, of search 
 
 For gems, for gold, tor fancied spring 
 
 Of perennial youth ; 
 
 Of daring deeds of heroes and 
 
 Patriotic men, of avarice. 
 
 Of wrong, of slavery, of war, 
 
 And the grand consummation 
 
 That marked an era in the advance 
 
 Of truth, of right, of freedom — 
 
 The magic words that set th3 captive free. 
 
 And now over the great city 
 
 50 
 
Of the valley by the inland sea 
 
 Are flying the flags of. the nations 
 
 In one grand symphony 
 
 Of love and peace. 
 
 There the nations of the earth 
 
 Have met to celebrate. 
 
 Not alone to commemorate 
 
 Columbus, or perpetuate his fame, 
 
 But to show the v^^ork 
 
 Of labor's patient toil, 
 
 To unfold the many triumphs 
 
 Of learning and of art 
 
 Of the inventor's busy brain 
 
 And cunning hand, 
 
 In all the varied fields. 
 
 Thpvt benefits mankind. 
 
 Here the worker from the field 
 
 And garden will show nature, 
 
 Varied, exalted, and beautified 
 
 By art. 
 
 Here the toilers of the earth 
 
 Are centered, the sailor 
 
 From the sea, the worker 
 
 From the field, the mine, 
 
 51 
 
The mill, and he 
 
 Who v\-ithin his study 
 
 Lingers late to solve 
 
 More fully the changing 
 
 Problems of life. 
 
 Four centuries are here unfolded 
 
 In all the grand advancement 
 
 Of the time, in x^anoramic view 
 
 The climax of today. 
 
 Four hundred years- 
 
 Since then the magic forces, 
 
 Steam and electricity 
 
 Have been harnesseed 
 
 To man's triumphal car ^ 
 
 To do his bidding. 
 
 Since then labor has been 
 
 Enthralled, and liberty 
 
 Restrained by law 
 
 Waves her banner 
 
 Over half the vv^orld. 
 
 Since then woman has arisen 
 
 Above old forms and prejudice, 
 
 And won a higher and wider 
 
 Field of thought and labor ; 
 
 52 
 
And today within the white city's 
 
 Classic halls, amid the brightest 
 
 And the best, she proudly 
 
 Points to the products 
 
 Of her hand and brain 
 
 Proud city, within thy ample walls 
 
 The toiler, by land or sea" 
 
 Will gather thoughts and hope anew 
 
 The artist and inventor 
 
 Will receive new inspiration 
 
 From the scene, 
 
 The best of earth, 
 
 The harvest of the centuries. 
 
 And here the orator and statesman 
 
 Ma}^ gather gems of thought 
 
 Of more value than fabled story 
 
 Of gods and men, or from ancient 
 
 Greece and Eome. 
 
 And here the poet 
 
 May unfold his song of theme 
 
 More worthy of his muse than 
 
 ''Tale of Troy Divine. 
 
 But he may sing, not of ages past, 
 
 Dark with the mists 
 
 53 
 
Of fable and of time, 
 
 Our country, her glory. 
 
 And her fame. 
 
 In short, the hopes, the thoughts, 
 
 The inspiration of today. 
 
 Grand city, happy people, 
 
 Mighty nation ; 'tis well 
 
 You chant "My country 
 
 'Tis of thee I sing." 
 
 Then let the hearts 
 
 Of ail the nations 
 
 Join the anthem and 
 
 Bear it on to thee. 
 
 I SEE HIM. 
 
 I see Him, I see Him, I see Him everywhere, 
 I see Him in the morning when the sun shines 
 
 clear and fair, 
 I see Him, I see Him again when day declines. 
 When the sun in golden crimson 
 All o'er the landscape shines. 
 I see him, I see him in the early flowers' Vdoom, 
 And in the varied tints of autumn 
 
When the fall in Nature's tomb. 
 
 I see Him, I see Him in the winter's snow and 
 
 storm, 
 And when glad and golden summer 
 Ushers in the morn. 
 
 I see Him^ I see Him in the storm's aerial bo\v, 
 That tells of love and mercy 
 To all and each below. 
 
 I see Him, I see Him in the star-bespangled sky, 
 Where worlds in countless numbers 
 Chant his praise on high. 
 I see Him, I see Him in the bright and gentle 
 
 flowers, 
 I see Him in the dew drop 
 In the sun's creative power. 
 His presence is around us, 
 In ocean, earth and air, 
 His smile is ever on us, 
 For He is everywhere. 
 
 55 
 
MANY A ROMANTIC STORY 
 
 Many a romantic storj 
 
 Man in his fancy twines, 
 
 Many a tragic epic 
 
 Like the ' Tale of Troy Divine 
 
 But tell to me the story, 
 The story of the Lamb, 
 
 How He died, the blessed Saviour, 
 To atone for erring man. 
 
 Yes, tell the same old story, 
 
 ' Tis old, but yet 'tis new : 
 It tells of life eternal. 
 
 The angelic and the true. 
 
 Yes, tell to all the story, 
 In lands beyond the sea, 
 
 How He loved the poor and lowly, 
 That He died for you and me. 
 
 Then publish wide the story 
 
 To earth's remotest bound, 
 
 Till His knowledge, love and glory 
 
 Shall circle earth around. 
 
 f)6 
 
THE GIRL I LEFT BEHIND ME 
 
 (What the Old Song Might Have Been.) 
 "Now I'm boLUid for Brighton Camp," 
 
 May fame and honor find mo; 
 Farewell then my native vale. 
 
 And the girl I left behind me. 
 
 But every scene of light and love 
 
 Still ever will remind me, 
 Of the hope to meet again 
 
 The girl I left behind me. 
 
 Come then woe, come then fame, 
 
 Whatever may betide me, 
 If life holds out I will return 
 
 To the girl I left behind me. 
 
 When wars blast is haply gone, 
 
 Peace will then remind me 
 To home and love return, 
 
 To the girl I left behind me. 
 
 I seek not gold, I seek not fame, 
 'Tis other ties that bind me ; 
 
 'Tis thee alone my guiding star, 
 The girl I left behind me. 
 
 57 
 
THE OLD SONGS. 
 
 Who does not love the sweet old soiigR, 
 
 The songs of long ago ; 
 Tlie songs of love, the same old tale 
 
 Full of natures glow. 
 
 I would that I could often hear 
 
 Some sweet pathetic tale 
 In simple vv^ords of lowly life 
 
 Like the "Rose of Allendale.^' 
 
 Let Burns sing of highland maid 
 
 In simple heartfelt rhyme, 
 'Tis sv/eeter far, 'tis more true 
 
 Than song of "Troy Divine." 
 
 Thr^n sing, O sing the same old songs 
 
 The songs of long ago, 
 Where love and music, sweet combined 
 
 In simple numbers flow. 
 
 Tlwn let the feelin.gs of the heart 
 
 In gentle numbers flow ; 
 Let love be the melting theme. 
 
 Like the songs of long ago. 
 
 58 
 
HOW LITTLE WE KNOW. 
 
 We ponder much from whence we came 
 And more on where we go ; 
 
 But ala8 the truth 
 
 How little, how little we know. 
 
 We delve, we dig, Ave search 
 
 The old, the new, the high, the low, 
 Then we can only sa}^ 
 
 How little, how little we know. 
 
 So the wise man spends his time 
 
 'Till his hair is white as snow, 
 
 Then you can- hear him sigh 
 
 How little, how little I know. 
 
 So it is, from youth to age 
 
 As on through life we go ; 
 
 Of what there is to learn 
 
 How little, how little we know. 
 
 59 
 
VALENTINE. 
 
 My love, I'm told b}- poets all 
 
 That this is now the day 
 That birds in climes more mild tb. mi t'n 
 
 In the tropics far away, 
 Intent on love and happiness 
 
 Self-taught amid the bowers. 
 Do choose them each a mate to love, 
 
 To sooth the passing hours. 
 
 Be tins true or not, my dear, 
 
 The story I will tell, 
 That I may choose, that I may love 
 
 That I may do as well. 
 And, as birds, by love and nature taught. 
 
 Do choose each passing year 
 Their mates among the sylvan groves 
 
 Their transient lives to cheer; 
 
 So I by love and virtue won 
 
 Will chDOse again v/ith pride. 
 
 Not like the birds— a new fair one. 
 But thee mv own fair bride. 
 
And as I chooRe thee then 
 
 Witii hopes as bright, with love as warm, 
 thee o'er again 
 
 I remain forever thine 
 
 Still your faithful valentine. 
 
 THE WANDERER. 
 
 The days were short in winter, 
 
 The sun was sinking lovv-. 
 
 The air was sharp and biting 
 
 And filled witn driving snow, 
 
 When a wanderer on the high 
 Aged, poor and gray, 
 Alone was slowl}^ wending 
 Along his weary way. 
 
 He passed by the cozy cottage, 
 
 The house upon the hill, 
 
 Around the social corner 
 
 And down by the busy mill. 
 
 The storm wa« driving faster 
 But no one bid him stjxy, 
 Though hungry, weak and w^eary 
 Kept on his dreary way. 
 
 61 
 
Tlie nigiit was now upon him, 
 
 He knew not where to go, 
 
 He asked fo.r food and shelter 
 
 And was curtly answered no. ^ 
 
 He wandered on still farther 
 Yv'ith footsteps weak and slow, 
 Till nature kindly wrapped him 
 In her sheet of snow^ 
 
 The sun again had risen, 
 
 The sky is bright and clear ; 
 
 The pilgrim now is resting. 
 
 Dead, on his icy bier. 
 
 The frost was twined around him 
 In many a fancy form 
 Like wreaths of sparkling jowels. 
 Glistening in the morn. 
 
 It seems that in the silent watches 
 
 Natures tears w^ere shed, 
 
 And now^ in frozen dew drops 
 
 Are sparkling round the dead. 
 
 No loved, ones stood around him, 
 His bed was ice and stone; 
 So like him we all will pass the river 
 Unaid.ed and alone. 
 
 G2 
 
Now all was cairn as ever, 
 But in the storm a life Lad passed 
 Thus storms, calm and sunshine 
 Will be blended in the last. 
 
 TO IRELAND. 
 
 ON BOABD STEAMER MAJESTIC 
 JUNE 22, 1898. 
 
 All hail to thee green island, 
 Thou gem of all the sea ; 
 The exile's heart is throbbing, 
 Longing now for thee. 
 
 Thy fields are green as ever, 
 Thy mountains grand and blue ; 
 The exiles hearts devotion 
 Is pointing still to you. 
 
 Then hail O lovely island. 
 Thou brightest of the sea; 
 May memory ever treasure 
 Bright visions still of thee. 
 
 63 
 
THE LIGHTHOUSE. 
 
 I saw a clear light 
 Gleaming bright on the wave, 
 
 It was lighted for us, 
 To guide and to save. 
 
 It seemed a warm welcome 
 Dear Erin from thee — 
 
 A smile of sweet greeting 
 Shone out on the sea. 
 
 It seemed gently to tell us 
 
 That a haven was nigh, 
 
 And safety was written 
 On the marge of the sky. 
 
 It shone like a star 
 Of hope on the aea; 
 
 So burning full brightly 
 For you and for me. 
 
 Is the star of Salvation 
 'Tis a beacon of love, 
 
 Siiining as ever 
 To guide us above. 
 
 Written off the coast of Ireland, June 22, Ism. 
 64 
 
OVER THE SEA. 
 
 There is a bright city 
 
 Far over the sea, 
 The home of the happy 
 
 The brave and the free. 
 
 There is a neat cottage 
 
 Waiting for me, 
 Embowered in flo'Nvers 
 
 Far over the sea.. 
 
 There linger my Loved ones 
 
 Looking for me, 
 Weary and waiting 
 
 Far over the sea. 
 
 But wherever I'll go, 
 
 Or where I may be, 
 My heart will beat ever 
 
 For the home o'er the sea. 
 Then hail glad morning, 
 
 How happy I'll be, 
 When my bark is steered westward 
 
 Far over the sea. 
 
 C5 
 
Yes, happy happy, 
 
 Happy I'll be 
 When I meet rny loved ones 
 
 Far over the sea. 
 
 Belfast, Ireland, June 29, 1898. 
 
 THE FLAG IS WAVING, 
 
 Tlie green is on the landscape. 
 The grass waves on the lea; 
 
 The earth is clad in verdiie 
 But war is on the sea. 
 
 Our flag v^^aves on as ever, 
 Proud emblem of the free; 
 
 It waves in pride and beauty 
 Gn the near and distant sea. 
 
 It waves on the valley and mountain. 
 And by the margin of the sea; 
 
 It tells the distant nations 
 
 This is the Inillwark of the free. 
 
 It waves in the busy market, 
 And by the homes of tlie free, 
 
 And victoriously is flying 
 By Chinas distant sea. 
 
 66 
 
Soon may its folds be flj'ing 
 On Cuba's verdant isle, . 
 
 Where peace \Till wave her banner. 
 And love and hope may smile. 
 
 Then wave on, glorious banner, 
 Victorious by land and sea; 
 
 And extend the wider domain, 
 Of the happy, bold and free. 
 
 May 1898. 
 
 THE YEW TREE OE MUCKROSS. 
 
 There is a hale old Yew tree, 
 
 Green grand and tall, 
 Growing in Muckross Abbey 
 
 Enclosed b}^ the cloister walls. 
 
 I saw it in mellov/ summer 
 
 When Erins groves and glades were gay 
 I saw it iu pride and beauty 
 
 As it had bloomed for many a day. 
 
 67 
 
The Yew is old as the Abbey, 
 Six hundred years or more; 
 
 The Abbey has a history 
 
 Blended with much of mythic lore. 
 
 The Yew tree is no mystery. 
 
 It is full of blooming life ; 
 But alas, for Muckross Abbey 
 
 Vv^ith decay and gloom is rife. 
 
 But beauty sweetly lingers 
 
 On its ivy covered walls, 
 While the sculptured forms and figures 
 
 Its grandure still recalls. 
 
 The Yew tree points to Heaven, 
 It upward leads the thought — 
 
 Follow natures course forever — 
 Is the lesson it has taught. 
 
 So every thought or measure 
 
 Like the Yew tree should have life, 
 
 Then when it meets the contest 
 'TwiU grow stronger in the strife. 
 
 68 
 
So if you are rightly moulded, 
 Not made of stone or moss : 
 
 Yon may grow on und upward 
 Like the Yew tree of iMnckross. 
 
 And to the foes in lifes journey 
 The back of your hand you'll toss 
 
 And for the right be ever a^live 
 Like the Yew tree of Muckross. 
 
 Then hail to thee, Oh Yew tree. 
 Long may thy top be green ; 
 
 And among the gems of Ireland 
 May thy stately form be Been. 
 
 THE BELLS OF SHANDON. 
 
 I rang the bells of Shandon 
 
 On Erins verdant isle; 
 When the sun shone out in beauty 
 
 And nature seemed to smile. 
 
 I rang the bells of Shan don 
 Near the margin of the sea, 
 
 And their music swe.jtly blended 
 With the beauties of the L3^. 
 
 69 
 
I rang the bells of Shaiidoii, 
 T rang them full and free, 
 
 x\nd their music filled the valley, 
 The valley of the Lee. 
 
 I rang the bells of Shandoji, 
 In the old church by the Lee 
 
 And their voices quickly answered, 
 Mellow, clear and free. 
 
 May thy bells O Shan don 
 Long peal on the river Lee 
 
 And cheer the pilgrim stranger 
 Who comes from o'er the sea. 
 
 So may our lives hereafter 
 Through all our ccuning time 
 
 Be harmonious, clear and truthful 
 Like Sliandons mellow chime. 
 
 A DOLLAR. 
 
 And so you want to know 
 
 \Yhata dollar will do? 
 It \\ill VN'ork for the falsf^ 
 
 It will work fur the true. 
 
 70 
 
It will work for the old, 
 It will work for the new, 
 
 It wil] work for me 
 It will labor for you. 
 
 Tis how you place it 
 Tis just as you say, 
 
 Tis where you invest it 
 That makes out the pay. 
 
 It will pay lots of debts 
 Wliere j^ou are owing, 
 
 Dont hide it away 
 But keep it agoing. 
 
 It will buy in the markets 
 Lots of good things, 
 
 Something you w^ant 
 Always it brings. 
 
 A dollar will cheer 
 
 The lone widows heart ; 
 
 To the poor and afflicted 
 It will sunshine impart. 
 
 71 
 
Some think that a dollar 
 Should be made out of gold, 
 
 Or silver of value intrinsic 
 
 By its weight in the market be sold. 
 
 It is the stamp on the dollar 
 
 Thar- makes it just go, 
 Not the real mixture 
 
 Or that it weighs so and so. 
 
 Tis not the real worth 
 
 Now hear what I say, 
 It is the endorsement upon it, 
 
 Uncle Samel's 0. K. 
 
 The way to get the worth 
 
 Of a dollar is use it ; 
 This rule you should follow 
 
 Never abuse it. 
 
 If you have a dollar 
 
 Just keep it bright, 
 Keep it agoing 
 
 By day and by night. 
 
Oft you'] 1 do well 
 
 To give a, dollar {jway, 
 It will bring you a smile 
 
 For some other day, 
 
 Throw some on the water, 
 
 Throw them broadcast, 
 You will find them again 
 
 When seaBone have passed. 
 
 They will rise up and greet you 
 
 In the pure by «nd by ; 
 Tliey will make little rainbows 
 
 Gleam out on your sky. 
 
 I LOVE TO LINGER. 
 
 I love, I love to linger 
 Where I passed my manhood prime, 
 
 Where the sun in gentle splendor 
 More sweetly seems to shine. 
 
 Yes I love to tarry 
 The earth seems doubly fair, 
 
 The trees, the graves, the flowers 
 Are more enchanting there. 
 
 73 
 
The rocks, thft hills, the wildwood?;, 
 TJie solf same story tell, 
 
 This wjis the home of loved onop 
 Of those I loved so well. 
 
 Full well I love to wander 
 Where my loved ones used to play; 
 
 Where full of glee and beauty 
 'i'hey passed the joyous day. 
 
 I can almost liear their footsteps 
 By t]v^ valley and the hill, 
 
 I can hear their voices blending 
 With thy song birds varied trill. 
 
 I can hear them in the <)rchard 
 And clown by the cooling spring; 
 
 I can hep.r them, in the wildwoods 
 In vari'Hl chorus sing. 
 
 The place it soems enchanted 
 With bright visions of the past, 
 
 But joy alas : is fleeting 
 Tlie sweetest, quickest part. 
 
The earth iias much, to glad and cheer 
 By mountain, plain and sea, 
 
 But the place on earth the dearest 
 Is hon]e, sweet home for me. 
 
 A COT. 
 
 We have a cot amorjg the hills 
 Where the first spring flowers bloom, 
 
 Where the light of home, of love 
 Expells the darksome gloom. 
 
 We have a home among the trees 
 Where the apple blossoms blow, 
 
 Where the juicy peach, the tender pear, 
 The clustering grape, invaried beauty grow. 
 
 We have a home among the hills 
 Where nature gently sniiles. 
 
 Where the varied moods of calm and storm 
 The cares of life beguise. 
 
 We have a lodge among the groves 
 Where echos the song of l)irds; 
 
 The merry laugh, the welcome ring 
 Of childhoods earliest words. 
 
Then let the aiinual blossom l)low 
 The perrenial vine grow free, 
 
 And may our hearts in urison 
 Fair nature l)e with thee. 
 
 And may our Rtay on earth the while 
 Be still some sylvan spot, 
 
 Where the gentle flower, ^^^^^ vpvnr.T.f .,>(1 
 Will never he forgot. 
 
 WHO WOULD NOT BE A BOY. 
 
 How sweet is lifes bright morning, 
 
 How full of life and joy, 
 With little care and sorrow 
 
 Who would not be a boy? 
 
 Now care, regret and sorrow 
 
 Too oft our minds employ ; 
 Alas : how great the contrast, 
 
 Who would not be a boy. 
 
 But it is so intended 
 
 That soon we should destroy 
 The lighter thoughts of childhood 
 
 And cease to be a l3oy. 
 
Would it not be better 
 
 To banish cares alloy, 
 And live as bright and happy 
 
 As when we were a boy. 
 
 It is but little profit 
 
 Our minds to thus employ. 
 There is little use in wishing 
 
 Again to be a bo}^ 
 
 Bu.t we can use the present 
 And all its good employ, 
 
 And live a life far better 
 Than when \Ye were a boy. 
 
 LITTLE URCHINS. 
 
 How many little urchins 
 Lively, tough and gay, 
 
 I see around me passing 
 I see them every day. 
 
 They are so blithe and happy 
 It matters not the day, 
 
 The talk of banks suspending 
 Dont seem to stop their play 
 
They are always up and ready 
 
 Always on the go, 
 They smile and laugh so easy 
 
 Should things go fast or slow\ 
 
 They dont fret about tomorroAv 
 They want their fun todaj^, 
 
 Why is not this philosophy? 
 For all the croakers say. 
 
 1'hey eat when they are hungry, 
 Sleep when time, and nature say, 
 
 Use time as it is flying 
 
 Is not that tlie better way? 
 
 Thus all may learn a lesson 
 From childhoods native way, 
 
 Follow nature in her teachings 
 In all we do or sa}^ 
 
 LET IT RAIN. 
 
 But if it should storm 
 Blow up clouds and rain. 
 
 What then, follow the adage 
 Let it rain as they do in Spain. 
 
Banks will break, clouds will come 
 We ^vill have sunshine, storm and rain, 
 
 No use to fret, let them come 
 Let it rain as they do in Spain. 
 
 But we must do what we can 
 Spare not work or pain, 
 
 And when misfortune comes 
 Let it rain as they do in Spain. 
 
 Life has its varying fortunes 
 Of sometime loss or gain. 
 
 But when v^^e have done our best 
 Let it rain as they do in Spain. 
 
 THE BLUE JAY. 
 
 The Blue Jay is lively. 
 He is tough and he's spry 
 
 He proposes to live, 
 "Root hog or die." 
 
 He dresses so neat, 
 
 In his jacket of blu@ 
 His coat may be old, 
 
 But always looks new. 
 
He don't go dooling 'round 
 With a sniff or a sigh, 
 
 But always wades in, 
 With blood in his eye. 
 
 When he is hungry 
 
 He don't stop to sing, 
 But looks out for ra-tions 
 
 As the neat proper thing. 
 
 All that he gathers 
 
 Of peltry or pelt, 
 For fear he might lose it, 
 
 He eats it himself. 
 
 He thinks that this world 
 Was just made for him, 
 
 And with this sweet impression 
 He simply sails in. 
 
 The Blue Jay he rustles 
 At night and at morn, 
 
 And will eat what he finds 
 
 Bugs, berries, crawfish or corn, 
 
 80 
 
He looks things all over 
 From bottom to top, 
 
 The main thing with him 
 Is to fill itp his crop. 
 
 This would seem a good les^son 
 For the low or the high, 
 
 Fight yonr own battles 
 Aiul never *8ay die. 
 
 TO DAY. 
 
 i 1 _N wa have anything to do. 
 Or anything to say 
 Now^ is yoivr time, 
 Do it say it, to day. 
 
 The end it will come, 
 
 Our lives pass away, 
 
 But much can be done 
 
 If we only try to do it today. 
 
 Fortune may fail 
 
 Work now, while you may, 
 
 The past is all gone 
 
 All that is left is todav. 
 
Time flies just the same 
 While v/e work or we play, 
 We can all make our marie 
 By \vorking to day. 
 
 Time is still marching 
 Fleeting on, and awa^:, 
 For us what is left 
 Of time, the brief space mi 
 
 OVER THE SEA. 
 
 There is a bright village 
 
 Far over the sea — 
 The home of the brave 
 
 The true and the free. 
 
 The landscape around it 
 Is mountain and lea, 
 
 And just down the valley 
 Is the sparling salt sea. 
 
 A streamlet runs by it 
 Pure, pearly and free, 
 
 It ever is rushing 
 To join the blue sea. 
 
 82 
 
Around it are growing 
 Tiie shrub and the tree, 
 
 And the grass is so green 
 In the vale by the sea. 
 
 'Tis there live my kindred 
 Far severed from me, 
 
 In that bright village 
 By the marge of the sea. 
 
 coukl I hut fly 
 
 O'er the land and the sea, 
 I'd soon view the village 
 
 So cherished by me. 
 
 But all w^ould be strange 
 
 And foreign to me, 
 In that bright village 
 
 Far over the sea. 
 
 Soon the charm would be gonn 
 
 And lonely I'd be. 
 And sigh for my home 
 
 That is not o'er the sea, 
 
 83 
 
So it is ever 
 
 To you and to me, 
 Things look the brightest 
 
 Far over the sea. 
 
 HAPPY AS A CLAM. 
 
 When the winds are a blowing 
 And the doors are all a slam, 
 
 I love to hear them roaring 
 I'm happy as a clam. 
 
 I am glad when T am thinking 
 That I am free as any man. 
 
 That I can be myself — 
 And happy, happy as a clam. 
 
 • Fortune may be frowning 
 But a man may be a man ; 
 
 The thought it makes me happy 
 Happy as a clam. 
 
 Change in fate and fortune 
 Seems to be the plan, 
 
 Still we can do our thinking 
 And be happy, happy as a clam. 
 
 84 
 
Fate may be against us 
 Do what ere she can, 
 
 But if we'll act the right 
 We'll be happy, happy as a clam. 
 
 THE GARDEN. 
 
 There is a little garden 
 
 The fairest in the town, 
 It. sheds a ray of gladness 
 
 To all who live around. 
 
 I pass the little garden 
 On each new coming day, 
 
 And hear the quiet lesson 
 Its simple beauties say. 
 
 The plants they grow with vigor 
 And look so fresh and gay, 
 
 Tis just a scene of beauty 
 To all who pa.^s that way. 
 
 Tis said, "A thing of beauty 
 
 Is a joy" for all the coming years, 
 
 And tlie little garden tells us 
 Life is not all a vale of tears 
 
CLOSE OF THE WESTPORT 
 LITERARY CLUB. 
 
 Our task is done 
 
 The theme that claimed our thoughts, 
 
 As winter wound his way, 
 
 H»s been a pleasing one; 
 
 Our countries history, her laws, 
 
 Pertaining to the rights of men. 
 
 Has been our study. 
 
 Her constitution and the changing eras. 
 
 That marked her progress 
 
 Of half a century of busy life, 
 
 Has been our lesson. 
 
 In which we found that men— 
 
 As in all climes and ages past. 
 
 Moved by self interest and education^ 
 
 Would have conflicting views. 
 
 So Columbia's sons — patriotic, 
 
 Brave, and wise though they were. 
 
 Would differ and each maintain 
 
 His point with vigor. 
 
 And like the historic knights 
 
 Of old contended. 
 
 86 
 
Oiie-that the sheild was gold, 
 
 While the other kniglit, 
 
 Equally brave and true, 
 
 Maintained 'twas silver 
 
 And to prove their truth, 
 
 Each cast his gauntlet on the earth. 
 
 But the sequel proved, 
 
 They both v/ere right, as the shield 
 
 Was seen from different view\ 
 
 So the by gone patriots 
 
 Of other days were honest 
 
 In their views and reasoned 
 
 From what they knew, 
 
 Or thought they knew. 
 
 And. while perhaps they all 
 
 Were right and sometimes 
 
 All were wrong ; 
 
 But on one point they all were right 
 
 They all v.'ere right in this, 
 
 They loved their country. 
 
 Her history and her name. 
 
 Her flag and people 
 
 Her glory and her fame, 
 
 While each in his way 
 
 87 
 
From his own point of view, 
 
 Taught where honor lead 
 
 Or fought for the heroic and the true. 
 
 So we should firmly follow 
 
 The pathway thej^- have trod, 
 
 Do our best as they did. 
 
 And leave the rest to God. 
 
 And as our glorius country 
 
 Floats on the waves of time. 
 
 May our coming rulers 
 
 Teach this thought sublime. 
 
 Let truth be our watchword 
 
 May justice hold her sway, 
 
 Then corruption gone forever 
 
 Then we'll see a brighter day. 
 
 And v.'hen the great republic 
 
 Shall like a tower stand, 
 
 Revered by all the peo}de 
 
 Of a vv^ise and happy land, 
 
 And w^hen all the nations 
 
 And the islands from afar 
 
 Shall know our starry banner 
 
 As the ever guiding star, 
 
 That represents the people 
 
 88 
 
Of the free and migljty west, 
 When Till ion, light and liberty 
 V/ill be supremely blest. 
 And may our constitution 
 Still hold her sky-ward way, 
 And may the f'atesthat guide us 
 Usher in a brighter day. 
 Then hail to the, our country, 
 May thy guide be a hand divine. 
 May honor, peace and wisdom, 
 Still on our pathway sliine. 
 
 RIDDLE. 
 
 What element in nature has the followin.:, 
 qualities? It is not subject to the law of grav- 
 ity, and its presence is required in the forma- 
 tion of all vegetable and animal life of the earth 
 
 I was in the beginning 
 At creations glad birth. 
 
 And with light, life and beauty 
 Clothed the green earth. 
 
 I give a tint to the sunset 
 Of ethereal glow, 
 
 89 
 
Paint the bright rainbow 
 And robe the mountain with Rnow ; 
 
 I glisten the dewdrop 
 That lights up the lea, 
 
 And give life to the waters 
 Of all the deep ?ea. 
 
 I circle the earth 
 In its journey afar, 
 
 And give form ancl be?iuty 
 To each distant star. 
 
 With me all is life, 
 Bright beauty and bloom ; 
 
 My absence, is darknes?^. 
 Sadness, sorrov/ and gloom. 
 
 THE MORNING DEW. 
 
 Another new and balmy morning 
 Is breaking on our view, 
 
 Lit up with golden sunshine, 
 And robed in pearly dew. 
 
 Another day is dawning 
 Sparkling bright and new. 
 
 Clothed in bloom and verdue 
 And bathed in morning dew. 
 
 90 
 
The miracle of day break 
 Is old, but yet tis new, 
 
 Tis crystalized with jewels 
 With the pure and pearly dew. 
 
 So may our minds be furnished 
 Full of the good and true, 
 
 And our hearts be light and cheerful, 
 And pure as the morning dew. 
 
 I SAW HER IX THE MORNING. 
 
 I saw her in the morning, 
 Tripping o'er the lea — 
 
 She was as fair as venus. 
 Bursting from the sea. 
 
 I saw her in the morning 
 With her eye of etherial blue, 
 
 She was a dream of beaut}^ 
 As she brushed away the dew. 
 
 I saw her in the evening 
 At the suns declining hue. 
 
 She seemed more bright than ever 
 And pure as the morning dew. 
 
 93 
 
Yes: she is a jem ^.^ ,,.....o- 
 To cheer the world anew, 
 
 To light our hopes still higher 
 To the angelic and the true. 
 
 The world is ever better 
 For the bright, the true, the gay, 
 
 They bring more joy and sunshine 
 To light our onward way. 
 
 Then may this bud of beauty, 
 Grow more divinely fair. 
 
 To show in life a Jewell, 
 A gem priceless, pure and rare. 
 
 LONGING. 
 
 I long for the balmy bright morning, 
 y/]ien the dew is bright on the lea, 
 
 And the shade and the green of the wildwood 
 For the flower, the shrub and the tree. 
 
 I sigh for the notes of the bird, 
 The meadow, the glade, and the glen. 
 
 And all the bright scenes of the summer 
 Far from the bustle of men. 
 
 92 
 
I love the storm cloud of winter, 
 The drift, the ice, and the snow, 
 
 Thus is a contrast aforded 
 
 With the summers etherial bow. 
 
 I long for the face of kind nature 
 
 In all her varying forms, 
 From the flowers so bright in the spring time 
 
 To v; inters stern blasts and her storms. 
 
 Yes : in the great book of nature 
 
 Something is passing each day, 
 Something to make our lives better. 
 
 To cheer and light uj) our way. 
 
 THE MORNING. 
 
 Another glad morning, 
 
 Another bright day 
 Is bursting upon us 
 
 In golden array. 
 
 The morning is with us 
 
 Bright cheerful and gay. 
 And our lives have the hopes 
 
 Of another grand day. 
 
 93 
 
The sun has just risen 
 
 In etherial ray, 
 To usher the blessing 
 
 Of another glad day. 
 
 'Tis more time for work, 
 
 For study or play ; 
 O ! how can we value 
 
 The worth of one day. 
 
 'Tis days makes our lives. 
 They soon will away ; 
 
 Then let us employ them 
 Each while they stay. 
 
 Yes : learn to employ them, 
 
 In virtue's array — 
 That we may all enter 
 
 The light of eternities day. 
 
 TWO BOYS. 
 
 I hear men boast of what they own, 
 Of bonds and buildings high ; 
 
 But I am rich, and own no bonds, 
 I have two boys — two bright boys have I. 
 
 94 
 
What care I though fate may frosvn, 
 And fortune pass me by; 
 
 I'll still feel supremely blest 
 If I can say, "Two bright boys have I." 
 
 Thus it is— I am not poor 
 But hold my head full high ; 
 
 V/hile I can truly sa}'-, 
 "T-\vo boys — two bright boys have I." 
 
 It is a joy for me to know 
 As the yefirs pa.ss swiftly by, 
 
 To guard the grand, old flag, 
 I have two boys — two brave boys have I. 
 
 I lov^ to see the glad, green earth, 
 The sun, the starry arch sublime: 
 
 But there is nothing dear to me 
 As the tVoboys, those two bright boys of mine 
 
 I would that I could truly tell 
 That through all the coming time 
 
 They would ever stand for truth and right, 
 The two boys — the two bright boys of mine. 
 
 95 
 
O may the kind protecting hand 
 Of wisdom and love divine, 
 
 Eves guard their onward way 
 The two boys— those two bright boys of mine. 
 
 THE FIELD OE WATERLOO. 
 
 We hear the old, old story 
 
 ''The Tale of Troy Divine ; " 
 But it lacks the burning interest, 
 
 Oh Waterloo, of thine. 
 
 We read in classic story 
 
 Of old Platea's day; 
 Where Grecian heroes marshalled 
 
 In bright and bold array. 
 
 Vv^e hear of the field of Morathan, 
 
 Where Persian warriors fell; 
 And Grecian heroes hastened 
 
 Their victory to tell. 
 
 We hear of Grecian glories 
 
 Still more famed than this; 
 Of tho grand, crowning triumph, 
 
 Immortal Solomis. 
 
 98 
 
We liear of Homes proud legions 
 
 Returned to Tiber's wave : 
 liearing high the eagles 
 
 In triumgh for her brave. 
 
 But of all the nations battles 
 For the wrong or for the true, 
 
 None have a brighter halo 
 
 Of light, than thine Waterloo. 
 
 Then long live the story 
 
 On the poets brightest pages 
 
 To light the coming years, 
 A theme for all the ages. 
 
 And thou, Albian motherland. 
 
 Thy childrens hearts will beat anew 
 To hear afar the magic name 
 
 Of glory won — of thine, Waterloo. 
 
 I love to hear the stor}^, 
 
 To hear the tale anew; 
 The theme of fame and glory, 
 
 The field of Waterloo. 
 
 97 
 
Yes, I love to hear the story 
 Of the bold, the brave, the true. 
 
 Who raised their countries glory 
 At world famed Waterloo. 
 
 Then long live the story, 
 To cheer the brave and true 
 
 For other fields of glory 
 Like thine, O Waterloo 
 
 Mothinks in fancies vision, 
 
 I can see the fiery hue 
 Of the meteor flag of England 
 
 Triumphant wave at Waterloo. 
 
 Yes, I see the day is closing, 
 The suns last declining hue ; 
 
 But victory still lingers 
 On the field of Waterloo. 
 
 Though eighty years have vanished, 
 We can still hear the echoes true; 
 
 And our hearts are filled with gladness. 
 And the thrill of Waterloo. 
 
 98 
 
But still we love the country 
 Where our future homes will be 
 
 But ill our hearts we cherish 
 The land be3^ond the sea. 
 
 THE BEACON LIGHTS. 
 
 The beacon lights are burning 
 Brightly on the lea ; 
 On England's anchored island, 
 From the mountains to the gea. 
 
 And as the sun is sinking, 
 Fading in the west, 
 From every hill and highland. 
 From every mountain crest 
 
 Bursts fourth the burning signal. 
 Firey, full and free ; 
 To usher in the coming 
 Of the diamond jubilee. 
 
 On every sparkling river. 
 That to the ocean glides, 
 The beacon lights are shining 
 To light the limpid tide. 
 
 99 
 
In all the bright, grefin valleys, 
 From the Avon to the Dee; 
 The beacon lights are burning 
 Skyward, bright and free. 
 
 From Cambria's greon clad mountains 
 From Snowdon's dizzy height; 
 All o'er the green little island 
 Will burn the beacon light. 
 
 And on the rock Gibralter, 
 By Malta's ancient pile ; 
 And next the flowery island 
 Of Crete, will make ocean smile. 
 
 And at the distant highland 
 Where two broad oceans meet, 
 The signal pile of fire 
 The jubilee will greet 
 
 All through Africa's regions 
 The signal fires will burn. 
 Where the meteor flag of England 
 Will yet bring its glad return. 
 
 100 
 
And now the fiery signal 
 Will eastward wend its way, 
 And light the smiling w^aters 
 By the towers of Bombay. 
 
 And so through distant India 
 The beacon light will fly ; 
 A line of light and beauty 
 Will brighten all the slcy. 
 
 This line of light and fire 
 Will pass o'er Ceylon's isle; 
 Where groves in vernal beauty 
 Will greet with pleasing smile. 
 
 And on the South Sea islands 
 The signal still will burn, 
 As round the earth 'tis passing 
 And to England will return. 
 
 Then hail ! O hail 1 thou beacon light, 
 Burn on by land and sea, 
 And cheer the hearts of all the world 
 With Victoria's Jubilee. 
 
 101 
 
A BOY ON A FARM. 
 
 'Tis a nice thing for a boy 
 
 To be reared on a farm, 
 Where he can learn to v/ork, 
 
 And be free from all harm. 
 
 He will learn to get up early, 
 And gently milk the cows, 
 
 And rustle 'round the stables 
 And kindly swill the sows. 
 
 And when the morning work is done 
 He can weed the onion bed. 
 
 Stick the peas on rainy days 
 Or thin the beets instead. 
 
 Sometimes he can go a fishing 
 When the chores all are done, 
 
 But he must go the round again 
 Just with the setting sun. 
 
 And then a little later 
 
 He can mow away the hay, 
 
 This he'll find a little lively 
 And warm on a sultry day. 
 
 102 
 
And in the time of harvest, 
 He can learn to rake behind, 
 
 To gather in the scatteringB, 
 He every lock must find. 
 
 He always has an appetite, 
 
 Especial 1 3^ for pie, 
 Pies that his mother made 
 
 That he will speak of by and by, 
 
 Though he may rise to honor, 
 To wealth, to social joy, 
 
 He'll never meet such pies again 
 As he ate when a boy. 
 
 And when the days are shorter 
 He'll join the singing class, 
 
 And with tunes light and lively 
 How quickly the moments pass. 
 
 Then he'll go to spelling school 
 Where all stand in a row ; 
 
 But be is likely thinking 
 
 With whom to home he'll go. 
 
 103 
 
And when she takes his arm 
 
 To start on their homeward way, 
 
 His heart just goes pit-a-pat 
 And he dont know what to say. 
 
 But he always will remember, 
 
 Remember wdtli a sigh — 
 How he kissed her gently, 
 
 A loving, sweet good bye. 
 
 Yes, there are many gleams of sunshine 
 That along his pathway shine, 
 
 That he'll think of her after 
 Fondly in lifes decline. 
 
 All the rural sounds of summer 
 
 Entrance his listning ear, 
 He can hear a new song 
 
 Every day in the year. 
 
 First he hears the blue bird 
 
 Early in the year to sing, 
 Then the frogs make it lively 
 
 In the pond below the spring. 
 
 104 
 
^iJiCl (..lit; bWiije lue plUJ^b Ul IluLl^i:'i" 
 
 All must keenly feel, 
 But while they do not sing 
 
 They are abundant on the squeal. 
 
 Then the barn-yard family 
 
 Each and all have a wa}^ 
 To make themselves heard 
 
 Early in the morning and huu in ine day 
 
 He sees the round of natu"e 
 
 In all the varied year, 
 In changing forms of beauty, 
 
 Her smiles, hex sunshine and her tear. 
 
 Thus he can learn from nature, 
 
 From the flowers, from the verdant sod 
 That there must be a maker, 
 
 A kind creator — God. 
 
 THE BRIGHT AxNGEL. 
 
 Yes, sometimes I'm dreaming, 
 Or a sweet vision I see 
 Of a bright friendly angel 
 Smiling on me. 
 
 1U5 
 
Who guards and cheers me 
 Along my lone way, 
 And ever smiles on me 
 B}^ night and by day. 
 0! come then brigh^ .>>>ov>] 
 Linger still near, 
 My pathway in life 
 To cherish and cheer. 
 
 And while the good angel 
 Stands guard o'er my head. 
 In the pathway of virtue 
 May I gently be lead. 
 
 O ! then kindly lead on 
 As a mother to me, 
 Till life shall expand 
 In eternity sea. 
 
 I STILL WANT TO STAY. 
 
 I am not like the man 
 Who tells us in rhyme, 
 
 That he is deeply disgusted 
 With the doings of time. 
 
 106 
 
He dont want to live alway 
 He seems plainly to say, 
 
 He doDt want to work 
 Nor even to play. 
 
 It seems that this world 
 That is blooming below 
 
 Is not good for him 
 Or at least only so so. 
 
 And with all earths beauties 
 
 He cares not to flirt, 
 Or looks on them coldly 
 
 Or merely as dirt. 
 
 No I dont want to leave 
 Nor cut short my stay 
 
 Though a guard of bright angels 
 Would bear me away. 
 
 But love the dear earth 
 
 And the friends that I greet, 
 
 Then long may we linger 
 In frienship to meet. 
 
 107 
 
THE MAUMEE. 
 
 I saw a great river 
 Flowing on to the sea ; 
 
 Its waters were yellow 
 And its name was Maiimee. 
 
 On its bosom steamers were sail in < 
 And tugs plying free, 
 
 Gave an vAy quite of business 
 To the river Maumce. 
 
 Its waters were moving 
 Rolling on to the sea, 
 
 Where they'll become pure 
 No longer Maufnee. 
 
 So our lives vre should change 
 Like thy waters Maumee ; 
 
 And live pure and bright 
 For eternity's sea. 
 
 THE BLUE AND THE GRAY. 
 'Tis sad to reflect, 
 As time rolls away : 
 Soon will be gone 
 The Blue-^nd the Gray. 
 
 108 
 
The sun will shine on 
 And usher the day, 
 When the grass will be green 
 O'er the Blue and the Gray. 
 
 The turmoil of battle, 
 The martial array — 
 Will forever be silent 
 To the Blue and the Gray. 
 
 Bright flowers will bloom 
 In gaudy array, 
 And shed their bright leaves 
 On the Blue and the Gray. 
 
 But there let them sleep 
 In their blankets of clay, 
 Till the last muster calls 
 The Blue and the Gray. 
 
 But the song and the story 
 Of their valor will stay ; 
 These will live on 
 Of the Blue and tha Grav. 
 
 109 
 
While the eage and the poet 
 Of some future day, 
 Will rehearse the grand epic 
 Of the Blue and the Gray. 
 
 And our flag in its beauty, 
 Will still hold its sway; 
 Protecting alike 
 The Blue ancl the Gray. 
 
 And our nation in future 
 Her honors will pay, 
 To the fame and the glory 
 Of the Blue and the Gray. 
 
 Her maxihood and beauty 
 In each passing May, 
 Will deck with bright flowers 
 The Blue and the Gray. 
 
 And we, the rear guard 
 Of the great civic fray 
 Will cherish the memories 
 Of the Blue and the Gray. 
 
Yes, while memory burns 
 A light ou our way, 
 We'll remember the cause 
 Of tlie Blue and the Gray. 
 
 THE MAN WHO KNOWS. 
 
 The man that reads 
 Is the man who knows, 
 
 That is the ^yay, 
 That knowledge grows. 
 
 The man who seeks 
 The wealth of minds 
 
 In the written page 
 True knowledge finds. 
 
 To gather the facts 
 That are flying past, 
 
 We must find them now 
 ' nge them fast. 
 
 So with all knowledge 
 Science or lore, 
 
 We must delve for the truth 
 And ponder it o'er. 
 m 
 
Thus with reading and thinking 
 Which is the true plan, 
 
 With truth as our guide 
 We may yet be a man^ 
 
 THE RABBIT. 
 
 I saw a little rabbit 
 
 Skipping o'er the snow, 
 
 He looked just bright and lively 
 Full of life and go. 
 
 He did not care for winter, 
 
 He was dressed to suit the day ; 
 
 And while time was fiying 
 He could either work or play. 
 
 His eyes were bright and lively, 
 With not a tinge of sorrow ; 
 
 He lives all in the present 
 
 And cares not for the morrow. 
 
 He lives within his circle, 
 
 Happy in his sphere ; 
 And' of all the coming future 
 
 Has no care or fear. 
 
 n2 
 
Yfj, trie git-at Creator, 
 
 Has made the rabbit fill 
 A Tiich in varied nature, 
 
 Re lives "^ut by his will. 
 
 Then let us look upon him 
 
 Kindly, at least just treat him fair, 
 
 For iio must be worthy 
 
 Who rec^'ivoK the Maker's care. 
 
 O WHERE ARE THE JOYS OF CHILDHOOD 
 
 where are the joys of our childhood 
 Where are the joys of our prime. 
 
 Where are the joys fancy painted? 
 Gone, witli the ruins of time. 
 
 Th^^ hopes of life are so fleeting 
 
 The rainbows soon fade away, 
 The castles that fancy has builded 
 
 Quickly vanish ; they are gone in a day. 
 
 Our lives are like the bright flowers 
 
 At first all beauty and bloom. 
 Then age with its cares and its sorrow 
 
 May be mingled with sorrow and gloom. 
 
 113 
 
But hope "spiiiigs eternMl" to cheer us 
 Paints the future in letters of light, 
 
 Tells of a living hereafter 
 Full of eternal delight. 
 
 Thf^ii let us guide our footsteps 
 That our pathway go not astray, 
 
 That it lead to a brighter hereafter, 
 To realms of perennial day. 
 
 FIFTY YEARS. 
 
 "Fifty years of Europe 
 
 Are worth a cycle of Cathay ;" 
 Thus wrote the poet Laureate 
 
 Of England's better day. 
 Fifty years of business, 
 
 Of science, work and play ; 
 Fifty years of manhood 
 
 Are worth a cycle of Catliay. 
 
 Fifty years of learning, 
 
 Fifty years of light; 
 Are worth more than ages 
 
 Of darkness, gloom and night. 
 
 114 
 
Fifty years of liberty, 
 
 Fifty years of right, 
 Are worth more than centuries 
 
 Of error, greed and blight. 
 
 O, for fifty years of prgress 
 
 To usher in the plan 
 To teach that all are brothers, 
 
 That man should be s man. 
 
 O, for fifty yesrs of peace. 
 On Isnd and on the main ; 
 
 To consecrate the era 
 Of truth's pacific reign. 
 
 THE MILLER OF THE DEE, 
 
 We hear the ancient poet tell 
 
 Of the Milk-rof the Dee, 
 How he sang both night and day 
 
 None as gay as he. 
 
 There beside the rushing tide 
 Of the ever murmering Dee, 
 
 He made the most of life 
 
 With heart so light and free. 
 
 115 
 
And as the river or. ward flowed, 
 
 To join the oceans tide, 
 So he ran the mill with speed, 
 
 He had no care beside. 
 
 Thus he lived from day to day- 
 Till every grist was ground, 
 
 With steady hand and cheerful smile 
 He went his busy round. 
 
 Thus should we in the mill of life 
 See that every grist is done, 
 
 Know that every task is met 
 And every battle won. 
 
 So our lives should move along 
 
 Patient, brave and free, 
 With heart as bright and true 
 
 As thine, O Miller of the Dee. 
 
 THE TWILIGHT. 
 
 'Tia sweet to view the fading light. 
 That marks the closing day ; 
 
 'Tis sweet to note the varied tints 
 As they gently pass away. 
 
 116 
 
'Tis sweet to see the fading light 
 The last sweet lingering ray, 
 
 That bids the day farewell 
 As twilight fades away. 
 
 So many our lives in virtue end 
 
 Gentle, pure, refined, 
 That we may be a living light 
 
 To those we leave behind. 
 
 THE SHOP GIRL. 
 
 I see her every morning 
 On her way to town, 
 Her face is bright as sunshine 
 Nothing like a frown. 
 
 Yes I meet her every morning 
 Stepping lightly o'er the lee, 
 On her way to labor 
 She seems happy, bright and free. 
 
 I see her every morning, 
 Her heart is light I know. 
 For where duty leads her 
 There she'll surely go. 
 
 117 
 
Wbea daily thus I meet her 
 
 So full of life and joy, 
 
 I feel a little sad 
 
 And almost wish I were a boy.^ 
 
 But I am glad to meet her 
 On each returning day, 
 She is a beam of sunshine 
 Lighting up my way. 
 
 So may our coming youth 
 All most haply find 
 Some kind of honest labor 
 Of the hand or of the mind. 
 
 This will ever help them, 
 They'll grow stronger day by day, 
 To perform lifes varied duties 
 In a bright and better way. 
 
 TO A GRADUATING CLASS. 
 
 Again the round of nature, 
 Has ushered in the vernal spring ; 
 Again the groves and meadows 
 In melodious music ring, 
 us 
 
Again a wreath of beauty 
 Is spread Jigiitly on tiie lea, 
 And Flora's flowery mantle 
 Hangs on each shrub and tree. 
 
 All tlie realms of nature, 
 Wake from their annual tomb ; 
 And in varied forms of beauty, 
 Unfold their annual bloom. 
 
 Yes, 'tis natures work continued. 
 Through each bright, passing year ; 
 Where much is strangely blended. 
 The bloom, the smile, the tear. • 
 
 But here we have bright flowers, 
 Not transient as a tear; 
 But those that bloom forever, 
 Through each Inight, passing year. 
 
 Yes, these not like the flowers 
 Soon to fade away — 
 Will expand in higher beauty, 
 In the bright, the coming day. 
 
 119 
 
They'll live not like the flowers, 
 That sink in an annual tomb; 
 But in bright, perennial bowers 
 Will live beyond the tomb. 
 
 Then speed you on, flowers. 
 May virtue guide your way ; 
 And each successive springtime. 
 To you bring a brighter day. 
 
 I may your lives hereafter. 
 Be brighter than your youth ; 
 May the stars that guide you, 
 Be wisdom, love and truth. 
 
 OVER THE SEA. 
 
 There is a bright city 
 
 Far over the sea, 
 The home of the happy, 
 
 The brave and the free. 
 
 There is a neat cottage 
 
 Waiting for me, 
 Embowered in flowers 
 
 Far over the sea. 
 
 120 
 
There linger my loved one8 
 
 Looking for me, 
 Weary and waiting 
 
 Far over the sea. 
 
 But wherever I'll go, 
 
 Or Vv'here I may be. 
 My heart will beat ever 
 
 For the home o'er the sea. 
 
 Then hail glad morning, 
 
 How happy I'll be, 
 '^^•^hen my bark is steered westward 
 
 For over the sea. 
 
 Yes, happy happy, 
 
 Happy I'll be 
 When I meet my lu\ t^u. i^ueb 
 
 Far over the sea. 
 
 jifast, Ireland, June 29th, 1898. 
 
 AN ODE TO QUEEN VICTORIA. 
 
 Read at the Queens Jubilee at Fairmount 
 
 Park, July, 1897. 
 
 121 
 
I aireo score y-)tiL3 ai^.^ vim-^i-yi — 
 A glad, bright, glorious train, 
 
 Sixty years have measured 
 Victoria's diamond reign. 
 
 And now we come to celebrate 
 The mother, wife and queen, 
 
 The empress of the boundless sea, 
 Majestic, mi^d, serene. 
 
 All hail to thee ! empress queen, 
 
 And thou, mother land, 
 We join thee now in pride and joy. 
 
 We join thee heart and hand. 
 
 Who shall tell the story 
 
 Of thy long, mild, sceptered sway? 
 Who will write the epic 
 
 To crown thy natal day? 
 
 From Ceylon's spicy island. 
 From India's broad domain. 
 
 Will come the notes of gladness 
 'To glorify thy reign. 
 
 122 
 
From distant isles of ocean, 
 
 From mountain, glen and plain; 
 
 In one grand, glorious chorus 
 Will come the glad refrain. 
 
 Where bleak and frozen winter, 
 And where eternal spring is seen, 
 
 Will ring the loud hosanna 
 To bless the island queen. 
 
 From every tribe and people. 
 From every land and clime. 
 
 Will peal the song rejoicing 
 In notes of joy sublime. 
 
 To join the gJorious chorus 
 
 This note comes from the west, 
 
 "Long life to thee, Victoria, 
 In truth and virtue blest." 
 
 And let the grand old martial airs, 
 Go with the sun his rounds ; 
 
 W^ith glory to thy honored name, 
 To earth's remotest bounds. 
 
 123 
 
Let martial music ring ; 
 
 Let the deep mouthed cannon roar; 
 One chant of jo}^ sul^linie 
 
 Resound from shore to shore. 
 
 May the meteor flag still float 
 
 On every land and sea, 
 An emblem still of England's isle, 
 
 A guardian of the free. 
 
 And may thy flag forever float. 
 Progressive, bold and true ; 
 
 A beacon light for Christian homes, 
 In the old world and the new. 
 
 And while the flag still waves 
 
 All o'er the world is seen ; 
 Around the earth let our shout ring 
 
 "God bless Britannia's Queen." 
 
 And may this grand, auspicious reign, 
 
 Still onward bear its way ; 
 And usher in to all the world, 
 
 A bright and better day. 
 
 124 
 
RUNNYMEDE. 
 
 If I had the choosing of some plant, 
 
 Both rich and. rare, 
 To place within my garden plat 
 
 To tend with nicest care; 
 
 I'd take no gaudy flower 
 From Afric's golden sands, 
 
 Nor no bright exotive 
 
 That grows in tropic lands. 
 
 Nor Avould I seek a blossom 
 From India's torrid zone, 
 
 Nor should the isle of Ceylon 
 Give the plant I'd call my own. 
 
 But I'd cull some simple flower 
 I would twere sweet indeed, 
 
 From that field of classic stroy 
 The vale of Runnymede. 
 
 And in early spring returning 
 In bright Columbia's land, 
 
 I would mind of the barons 
 That bold heroic band. 
 
 125 
 
That brought us Magna Carta — 
 
 Human rights divine, 
 Who won the valued freedom 
 
 That now is yours and mine. 
 
 FAREWELL TO WALES. 
 
 To Cambrias' hills and vallies fair, 
 I'll bid a fond adieu — 
 But as long as memory lasts 
 I'll dream, fondly dream of you. 
 
 Oh Cambria dear, my native land, 
 I love thy hills and vales — 
 Thy varied scenes of rock and fell. 
 Thy streams, thy hills and dales. 
 
 Adieu to thee, my native vale — 
 The vale that gave me birth — 
 By murmuring, rushing, winding Wye. 
 Few fairer are on earth. 
 
 Then farewell Oh Cambria, 
 Sweet land of beauty and song- 
 I fain would yet tarry, 
 Yes, I v/ould linger, linger so long, 
 
 126 
 
But love points her finger 
 Across tlie watery way, 
 Nor rock, nor rill, nor river, 
 Will cause my longer stay. 
 
 Then westward steer my bounding bark 
 
 Across tlie silver sea. 
 
 To Columbia's freedom land — 
 
 Now bear me on to thee 
 
 Banger, North Wales, August 10, 1898. 
 
 THE WYE. 
 
 I remember, I remember 
 The sweet vale of the Wye, 
 
 With thy vallies so green 
 And thy mountains so high. 
 
 I remember, I remember 
 The bright rushing stream, 
 
 'Twas a svv^eet vision of beauty. 
 It seemed like a dream. 
 
 In thy sweet vallies 
 And on thy mountains of blue, 
 
 May ever be the home 
 Of the bold, brave and true. 
 
 127 
 
I fain would still linger 
 By thy waters so long, 
 
 And gaze on thy landscape 
 Of beauty and song. 
 
 Yes, I would tarry 
 In thy vallies of green, 
 
 And list to thy music 
 Be wrapt in the scene. 
 
 Then fare ye well river 
 Sweet theme of my song, 
 
 May music and beauty 
 Still smile on you long. 
 
 TEDDY McGRAW. 
 
 Of course he was Irish, 
 
 He lived where the Lea 
 In a wdldness of beauty, 
 flowed on to the sea. 
 The Cot it wag low, covered with straw^ 
 His name was quite Irish— Teddy McGraw 
 
 128 
 
The windows were few, 
 
 And low was the door, 
 Yet he sang the old songs, 
 Like -^yweet Rora O'More." 
 And he lived in a Cot shingled v/ith straw. 
 And his name was so Irish — Teddy McGraw. 
 There was a fine landscape, 
 
 Always in view, 
 Of valley so green. 
 
 And mountains of blue. 
 Near the Cot covered with straw, 
 The home of bold Tedd}^— Teddy McGraw 
 Around it were playing 
 
 Five little brats. 
 They were brimful of mischief. 
 And "hungry as rats. 
 And they played by the Cot, covered with straw 
 The joy and the hope of Teddy McGraw. 
 And there was the mother, 
 The sweet, patient wife. 
 Willing for all 
 
 To v/ork out her life. 
 In the low Cottage, covered with straw. 
 The guide and the angel of Teddy McGraw. 
 
 129 
 
He belioved that home ride 
 
 Was proper and right, 
 And jupt to maintain it 
 Was ready to figbt, 
 And sine? 'Plnribiis go Erin', 'llniim ^^oBrangh' 
 In the low cottage covered with straw. 
 He drank to the ohl, 
 
 He drank to the new, 
 Of course 'twas all proper 
 Right, somid and triif^ ; 
 He did not mix liquors but took them all raw. 
 They seemed to agree with Teddy McGraw. 
 He was a good fellow 
 
 Full of fun, frolic and fight, 
 He often was wrong 
 
 But sometimes was right. 
 And he loved the old cot covered with straw, 
 And his name it was ever Teddy McGraw. 
 And though he may wander 
 
 Far over the sea. 
 He still will remember 
 Wherever he'll be. 
 The cot in dear Erin, covered with straw, 
 The home of his childhood, Teddy McGraw. 
 
 130 
 
Then fare you well valley, 
 
 Sweet vale of the Lee, 
 Of thy beauties I'll dream, 
 When over the eea. 
 Nor will I forget the cot, covered with straw, 
 The home of the lowly Teddy McGraw. 
 
 THE END. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 A Boy on a Farm ^°2 
 
 A Cot 95 
 
 A Dollar 7° 
 
 A Riddle 4^ 
 
 A Riddle 48 
 
 A Winter Morning 4i 
 
 A Domestic Tragedy 4° 
 
 A Riddle ^9 
 
 Albion 36 
 
 An Ode to Queen Victoria 121 
 
 Autograph 49 
 
 Christmas 45 
 
 Close of Club 86 
 
 December 3 2 
 
 Five Years Old 8 
 
 Freedofn 4^ 
 
 Four Centuries 49 
 
 Fifty Years ^H 
 
 Farewell to Wales 126 
 
 Greece 37 
 
 How Short the Life of Flowers 21 
 
 FFow Little we K?iow 59 
 
Happy as a Clam 84 
 
 Invocation 4 
 
 / See Him 54 
 
 I Love to Linger 73 
 
 I Saw her in the Morning 91 
 
 I Still Want to Stay 106 
 
 Little yim 35 
 
 Little Urchins 77 
 
 Longifig 92 
 
 Let it Rain 78 
 
 May 28 
 
 My Bonnie Bay Mare 43 
 
 Many a Ro7nantic Story 56 
 
 Niagara 5 
 
 October 27 
 
 Out of a yoh 39 
 
 Over the Sea 65 
 
 Over the Sea 82 
 
 O Where ire the Joys of Childhood 113 
 
 Riinnymede 125 
 
 The Moon 6 
 
 The Stranger 9 
 
 The Blue Bird 10 
 
 The Soldier 13 
 
 Thr Flig T4 
 
The Two Boys -15 
 
 The Soldiers Grave ,,. r6 
 
 The S.ng Bird 23 
 
 The Autumn Leaves .24 
 
 Th' Deiv Drops 25 
 
 The Last of ATay , 29 
 
 The Dee 30 
 
 The Christmas Bells 31 
 
 The Rai?i 34 
 
 The Road 37 
 
 The Gid L Left Behind Me 57 
 
 The OldSong 58 
 
 The Wanderer 61 
 
 The Light House 64 
 
 The Flag is Still Waving 66 
 
 The Yew Tree of Muckross 67 
 
 The Bells of Shandon % 69 
 
 The Blue Jay 79 
 
 The Garde?! 85 
 
 The Morniiig Dew • 98 
 
 The Mornijig , . 93 
 
 The Field of Waterloo 96 
 
 The Beacon Lights 99 
 
 The Bright A?tgel 105 
 
 7Vte Maumee to8 
 
The Blue and the Gray 1 08 
 
 The Man who Knonfs iii 
 
 The Rabbit 112 
 
 The Miller of the Dee i r 5 
 
 The Twilight i (6 
 
 The Shop Girl 1.7 
 
 The Wye 127 
 
 Ted O' Leary n 
 
 Time Tinges all with Gray 20 
 
 To Ireland 63 
 
 Two Boys 94 
 
 To a Graduating Class 118 
 
 To Day 81 
 
 Teddy McGraw 128 
 
 Valentine 60 
 
 Who Would not be a Boy 76 
 
DEC 29 1898 
 
•-1 
 
015 973 856 5 ^