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 1916 
 
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Class Z_c^ 
 Book 
 
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 CoRyrightN 
 
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 COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 
 
HOOSIER SONG 
 
 AND SENTIMENT 
 
 BY 
 WESLEY ORRISON SMITH 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 
 
 1916 
 

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 lir± 
 
 Copyright, 1916 
 Sherman, Frexch $f Company 
 
 JUN 16 1916 
 ©CI.A433377 
 
TO 
 MY BELOVED SON AND DAUGHTER 
 
 HURON HERBERT SMITH 
 
 AND 
 
 GERALDINE SMITH SLOAN 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Thoughts Following Despondency ... 1 
 
 *Tis June in Indiana S 
 
 Spring 5 
 
 Dreaming 6 
 
 Parody 8 
 
 A Love Song 9 
 
 My Old Dog Jack 10 
 
 To A Little Niece on Her Sixth Birthday 11 
 
 The Army Mule 12 
 
 On the Flyleaf of a Gift Book . . . . 14 
 
 Grandfather 15 
 
 Good-night! No Dreams! . . . . . 17 
 
 The Voyage of Life 18 
 
 Auto Tourists 20 
 
 To My Daughter on Her Eleventh Birth- 
 day ... 21 
 
 The Rain upon the Roof 23 
 
 On Seeing a Picture op the Lawrence 
 
 Schoolgirls 26 
 
 The Student Life 28 
 
PAGE 
 
 My Friend, the Agent 30 
 
 On the Bay of Naples S3 
 
 On Receiving a Card from a Friend . . 34 
 
 Sunday Morning, March 20, 1881 ... 35 
 
 Night at Home 36 
 
 The Two Messages 37 
 
 Good Health 39 
 
 To A Former Pupil 40 
 
 Mr. Ground Hog 42 
 
 A Palace of Home 43 
 
 That Calendar 44 
 
 Old Erin 46 
 
 Amo — Amas — Amat 47 
 
 To A Robin 48 
 
 An Easter Greeting 50 
 
 Be Young in Heart, though Old in Years 52 
 
 An Iconoclastic Mouse 54 
 
 Crucifixion and Resurrection .... 56 
 
 To a New York Lady Guest 59 
 
 To My Friend, Jacob Ellsworth Hinshaw 61 
 
 Lines for the Album of Miss Bonner . . 62 
 
 Rural Sociability 63 
 
 A Picture 66 
 
 Moments 68 
 
 To My Father on His Eightieth Birthday 69 
 
 On Hearing a Sermon 71 
 
PAGE 
 
 Hope . 72 
 
 Evening 73 
 
 Childhood's Call 74 
 
 Da Vinci and the Picture 75 
 
 The Winter Wind 76 
 
 Childhood's Day 78 
 
 To My Friend, Dr. E. N. Canada ... 80 
 
 When Mary Has a Man 81 
 
 Sambo's Courting 82 
 
 Shall We Trust Him? 83 
 
 Her Parlor Decorations 84 
 
 Sin's Toll 85 
 
 Rural Optimist 87 
 
 Twilight and Dawn 88 
 
 On the Eve op Commencement .... 89 
 
 Class Poem, 1880 90 
 
THOUGHTS FOLLOWING 
 DESPONDENCY 
 
 The night has past, 
 
 The mom has come, 
 
 The busy world begins to hum 
 
 With vigor as of yore. 
 
 All things are new ; 
 
 The sky is fair; 
 
 And fragrance fills the morning air 
 
 About my humble door. 
 
 Well, have they changed, 
 
 Or did I dream 
 
 My houseboat on some turbid stream. 
 
 While songbirds warbled nigh? 
 
 With friendships true 
 
 All things are new. 
 
 The world smiles right at me and you. 
 
 And hope drives back the sigh. 
 
 When vigor calls 
 
 Within the mind. 
 
 And somber thoughts give place to kind. 
 
 Sweet cheer doth beckon on. 
 
 With shout of mirth 
 
 We climb the hill; 
 
 Upon its crest we catch the thrill 
 
 While gazing at the dawn. 
 
 We know full well 
 
 [1] 
 
Beyond the tide, 
 
 Upon some fairer shore, our Guide 
 
 Will speak us fair; 
 
 And when shall come 
 
 At close of day 
 
 The messenger to show the way. 
 
 He'll surely meet us there. 
 
 [2] 
 
'TIS JUNE IN INDIANA 
 
 'Tis June in Indiana 
 
 And the sky is wondrous fair; 
 
 The clover's in the blooming 
 
 And its fragrance fills the air 
 
 From dewy mom till closing of the day. 
 
 The bee is sipping nectar 
 
 From the honey-laden flower, 
 
 And bearing it with gladness 
 
 To its queen's enchanted bower 
 
 That nestles in the orchard by the way. 
 
 The roses in my garden 
 
 Wave a greeting to the breeze, 
 
 The bluebird and the robin 
 
 Call a challenge from the trees. 
 
 And all the world is glad for leafy June. 
 
 Across the meadow's bosom, 
 
 Like the ripple on the lake. 
 
 The wind is gently creeping — 
 
 Hardly does the surface shake — 
 
 And night is robed in splendors of the moon. 
 
 The sea may boast her corals. 
 Fair Oregon her spruce; 
 With these we wage no battle — 
 We only call a truce 
 For Indiana's clime. 
 
 [3] 
 
Her golden fields are smiling, 
 Her woods are all atune 
 And speak in accents tender 
 Of the rare, sweet days of June 
 Which must be told in rhyme. 
 
 [4] 
 
SPRING 
 
 Spring is here ; in swelling bud and fragrant 
 
 flower 
 It doth itself proclaim ; 
 
 On lake and stream, in air and on the land, 
 Its banners are aflame. 
 
 Its life abounds ; and all its laws are manifest 
 
 From every sun-kissed hill; 
 
 Its richness steals upon the soul apace 
 
 And sets the heart athrill. 
 
 The robin doth proclaim; and from its lofty 
 
 perch 
 The piping jay. 
 
 Filled with the witchery of the vernal hour. 
 Calls to the newborn day. 
 
 My soul is glad ; in swelling notes of praise 
 Let now my song arise. 
 And voicing with the clear-toned lark, 
 Fill all the skies. 
 
 [5] 
 
DREAMING 
 
 Oh, the mystery of dreaming, 
 With its swift allurements gleaming. 
 Leading where they will; 
 Inspirations round us thronging 
 Fill us with a nameless longing, 
 Bid our hearts be still. 
 
 Lo ! behold a matchless morning. 
 Flaming banners skies adoring. 
 Songbirds all atune. 
 Here the cattle ; there the w^oodland ; 
 Sylvan, silent, restful Dreamland; 
 Perfumed winds of June. 
 
 Here the meadow, there the river, 
 Ocean's billow, lakelet's quiver. 
 Lend their mystic spell; 
 Till in fancy we are standing 
 Near the pearly river's landing 
 Where our loved ones dwell. 
 
 Now 'tis autumn's garnered sheaf; 
 Lengthened shadows, rustling leaf. 
 Tell of coming chill ; 
 And beside the river's brink 
 Where the cattle come to drink, 
 Stands the lonely mill. 
 
 [6] 
 
Midnight quiet, country homestead, 
 Silence golden, rest with no dread. 
 Steal upon the soul; 
 And we're sure as time is fleeting. 
 There shall be a happy meeting; 
 Death is not the goal. 
 
 Often thus our dreams come stealing, 
 Other days and scenes revealing 
 In a glory rare; 
 
 While above the skies seem bluer 
 And the sun of life shines truer — 
 All the world is fair. 
 
 [7] 
 
PARODY 
 
 Oh, were you ne'er a schoolgirl, 
 And did you never chew, 
 And feel that swelling of the cheek 
 Oft felt by others, too? 
 
 Did you ne'er meet far down the street 
 With schoolmates not a few. 
 And talk of hat and this and that, 
 While merrily you'd chew? 
 
 And did you ne'er sit in class 
 And idly dream for aye. 
 While sunny sky and laughing e^^e 
 Bade you march, march away? 
 
 And did you ne'er smile at him 
 Who sat across the way. 
 And whisper low that none might know 
 The words that you would say? 
 
 O precious girl, my head's awhirl 
 Within your gracious smile ; 
 But speak me fair and I declare 
 I'll love you all the while. 
 
 And when at last our school is past 
 And lessons laid aside. 
 Your hand I'll claim, my lovely dame, 
 And with me you'll abide. 
 [8] 
 
A LOVE SONG 
 
 Out of their depths thou'rt calling to me, 
 Calling me with thine eyes ; 
 Lo! from my heart I answer thee back, 
 Glad with a new surprise. 
 
 Forth from thine eyes thy soul doth shine. 
 Guileless and pure and free; 
 Timidly waits at those portals fair. 
 Whispers of love to me. 
 
 Glimpses I catch of a world unknown. 
 Blooming with roses fair; 
 Lovingly peering within their depths, 
 Eyes that are wondrous rare 
 
 Bring me a message on winged glance, 
 Tender and strong and true. 
 Freighted with incense subtilely rare. 
 Borne to my soul from you. 
 
 Out from the skies a newborn hope 
 Shines on my pathway clear, 
 Melody maketh within my heart. 
 Fills all the world with cheer. 
 
 [9] 
 
MY OLD DOG JACK 
 
 Faithful old Jack 
 
 Was the leader of the pack 
 
 In many a canine fray ; 
 
 But that was long ago, 
 
 For as any one should know — 
 
 Ev'ry dog must have his day. 
 
 Sporty old Jack 
 Was a dandy on the track, 
 And only had to learn the way ; 
 Just to see him chase the bunny 
 Was always worth your money, 
 But now, alas ! he's had his day. 
 
 Honest old dog. 
 
 He's just within the fog 
 
 Where rosy skies are turned to gray; 
 
 No more the noise of gun 
 
 Will make him leap and run. 
 
 For he, alas ! has had his day. 
 
 [10] 
 
TO A LITTLE NIECE ON HER SIXTH 
 BIRTHDAY 
 
 Birthdays are glad days 
 At life's early mom, 
 Sunshine and roses 
 With never a thorn. 
 
 Childhood and springtime 
 Are symbols of joy ; 
 Youth-time is hope-time, 
 Without an alloy. 
 
 [" 
 
THE ARMY MULE 
 
 Mephisto was an army mule 
 As trifling as they make 'cm ; 
 And if you did your back but turn, 
 He would your willing kindness spurn 
 And kick you, yes, he would, dad burn, 
 He, ha, he! 
 
 Mephisto was as wise a guy 
 
 As ever drew a breath; 
 
 And he could kick a pesky fly 
 
 And sugar eat and wink his eye. 
 
 And look so tired you'd think he'd die. 
 
 He, ha, he! 
 
 But do not dream that he is dead, 
 That solemn army mule; 
 Nor tickle the end anent his head 
 Without you're ready to take your bed, 
 For that 'er mule is highly bred. 
 He, ha, he ! 
 
 Mephisto never sleeps at night. 
 That pesky army mule ; 
 He chews his hay and dreams of fight. 
 His challenge calls with dawning light, 
 And whoops it up till 'tis a fright. 
 He, ha, he! 
 
 [18] 
 
I sigh as I think of Mephisto's birth, 
 
 That music-loving mule; 
 
 And long for the time when our mother Earth 
 
 Shall issue the call to loose his girth, 
 
 And give him a new and a warmer berth. 
 
 He, ha, he! 
 
 [13] 
 
ON THE FLYLEAF OF A GIFT BOOK 
 
 In Friendship's sweet name 
 This vokimc I britig; 
 May it lift up your courage 
 And cause you to sing 
 
 A song of rejoicing, 
 Though long be the night 
 Ere the morning appear 
 With its banners of light. 
 
 'Tis Truth rules the world, 
 And her arrows of light 
 Shall pierce superstition 
 And banish the night. 
 
 For Truth is of God 
 And crushed will arise. 
 Its banners aflame 
 With the hope of the skies. 
 
 [14] 
 
GRANDFATHER 
 
 The grandfather sat in his ingle nook, 
 Where the sunlight softly played; 
 His face was wrinkled, his locks were few. 
 And his garments were old and frayed. 
 
 His hand was frail and his eye was dim. 
 But over his features a smile 
 Bespoke of the gentle soul within 
 And a heart that was free from guile. 
 
 Without, where the golden sunlight fell 
 And the rustle of leaf was heard. 
 There drifted in through the open door 
 The voices of child and bird. 
 
 He listened again and a voice rang clear — 
 
 'Twas the voice of his own dear Jane; 
 
 And he wondered, as backward he turned his 
 
 glance. 
 If he'd see her dear face in the lane. 
 
 For his dear, dear Jane was the same little 
 girl 
 
 Who lisped her sweet prayer at his knee. 
 
 And romped through the orchard and meadow- 
 land. 
 
 And shouted her childish glee 
 
 [15] 
 
At the babbling brook as she held his hand 
 And sought for his loving embrace, 
 Which she knew would sure come 
 When she held him close and smilingly sought 
 his face. 
 
 The years had sped by, and instead of the gold, 
 
 The silver had come to stay ; 
 
 But Jane was a child for all of that. 
 
 As he dreamed of her childish way. 
 
 He saw the bare feet and heard the glad cry 
 As she sped over valley and hill, 
 Or chased the fair thing as it flitted by. 
 Or roamed at her own sweet will. 
 
 [16] 
 
GOOD-NIGHT! NO DREAMS! 
 
 Gently the daylight has faded, 
 Darkness broods over the stream; 
 Now may your couch be attended 
 By slumber, but never a dream. 
 
 Sleep, sweetly sleep, till the morrow 
 Sheds on thy pillow its gleam; 
 Wake with a song and with gladness, 
 But slumber with never a dream. 
 
 Forth from the sky to your chamber 
 The moon sends her silvery beam. 
 You reck not her charm nor her beauty; 
 You sleep — but with never a dream. 
 
 Life in its wide-awake moments 
 May puzzle with many a theme; 
 But slumber should never be broken — 
 Just sleep, but with never a dream. 
 
 [17] 
 
THE VOYAGE OF LIFE 
 
 Leaning my head 'gainst the timcwom bark 
 Of a giant old oak tree, 
 Before me I saw through the balmy air 
 The voyage upon Life's sea. 
 
 And I stood there dreaming about the voyage 
 While leaves fell thick around, 
 And saw, as they fell, in each lone descent. 
 Some Life's ship run aground. 
 
 Upon the ship there were gay young men 
 
 Whose outlook seemed clear and bright ; 
 
 But a demon had come and the young life 
 
 crushed 
 When they strayed from the pathway of light. 
 
 There were winsome maids with tresses fair. 
 And the ring of their laughter was heard 
 Like the gladsome note that will outward float 
 From the song of some happy bird. 
 
 On the after deck, when the sun was low, 
 A group of mourners was seen ; 
 On the saddened face of each one was traced 
 The marks of a sorrow keen. 
 
 [18] 
 
The end of the voyage at length drew nigh, 
 For the harbor was just at hand. 
 And the voyagers all heard the final call 
 At the gates of the Promised Land. 
 
 [19] 
 
AUTO TOURISTS 
 
 Ere the morning blushes red 
 We are speeding on our way, 
 With many leagues behind us 
 At the turning of the day. 
 Then our chauffeurs turn a trick, 
 Laying low poor " domemic," 
 And we all have good old chick: 
 Think of that ! 
 
 We are speeding up the mountain, 
 We are coasting down the hill, 
 We are rushing through the valley 
 By the worn-out watermill. 
 With our chauffeurs at the wheels. 
 Baby calves are changed to veals 
 And are eaten at our meals: 
 Think of that ! 
 
 At last the day has faded 
 And we're parking by the way, 
 A jolly group of campers 
 Waiting gladly for " the hay." 
 Then our chauffeurs take a hike 
 To the orchard down the pike, 
 And they furnish what we like: 
 Think of that ! 
 
 [20] 
 
TO MY DAUGHTER ON HER ELEVENTH 
 BIRTHDAY 
 
 Did will-o'-the-wisps in fairyland dwell 
 In the time of the long-ago, 
 When you were a child and I was a child, 
 And life was all aglow? 
 
 Were the flicker and flare and the golden glare 
 
 Of the jack-o'-lantern known 
 
 In the years gone by, when you and I 
 
 Only wee tots were grown? 
 
 Did a big bear crouch at the garden gate 
 And growl through the gloom of night, 
 When you were a bairn and I was a bairn, 
 To chill our hearts with fright? 
 
 Was the echo that came from yonder wood 
 In the days of the long-ago 
 The wail of a fairy lost and weary, 
 Wandering to and fro? 
 
 In the hush of the night when the stars were 
 
 bright. 
 In the long-ago days of youth. 
 Did the darkness bring on her sable wing 
 Visions anew of truth? 
 
 [21] 
 
Eleven tonight ! did I hear it aright, 
 
 Or was it an idle dream? 
 
 Are we bound for the ocean's wide expanse, 
 
 Our boat on a winding stream? 
 
 Or may we not halt 'neath the blue-arched vault 
 Of a fair October's sky 
 And wait as of yore on the nearby shore, 
 While Time lies idly by? 
 
 Ah ! no, my child, it may not be so ; 
 
 Time beckons and follow we on 
 
 Through sunshine and shadow, through tempest 
 
 and storm. 
 To the land of Eternal Dawn. 
 
 [22] 
 
THE RAIN UPON THE ROOF 
 
 Oh, the music of the rain upon the roof! 
 How it brings again the mem'ries of my youth; 
 They come flooding through my brain 
 With the patter of the rain, 
 With the playing of the rain upon the roof. 
 
 Oh, the rolling and the rumbling of the thunder ! 
 How it filled my childish mind with awe and 
 
 wonder. 
 When it shook my little bed, 
 Filled was I with nameless dread 
 At the mighty roar and rumble of the thunder. 
 
 Oh, the deep, majestic music of the thunder! 
 
 How it seemed to thrust the very clouds asunder ; 
 
 Seemed to mock old ocean's roar 
 
 As it sweeps from shore to shore. 
 
 In its restless mood of never ending wonder. 
 
 Oh, the playing of the lightning on the night! 
 How it brings again those floods of brilliant 
 
 light. 
 Turning darkness into day 
 For a moment, then away. 
 Leaving blackness and the pressing sense of 
 
 fright. 
 
 [23] 
 
Oh, that chamber in the garret overhead ! 
 
 How against its roof was placed my little bed, 
 
 Where the falling of the rain 
 
 Sang a lullaby refrain 
 
 Till my daydreams in forgctfulncss had fled. 
 
 Oh, the mem'ry of the brother now at rest 1 
 How together little faces we have pressed 
 In the pillow white and soft, 
 In that dear old cabin loft. 
 Shall we meet, I wonder, in that home so 
 blessed? 
 
 Oh, the echo of a footfall on the stair! 
 
 And the music of a sweet voice low and clear, 
 
 Bidding childish hearts be still. 
 
 Sure could come to us no ill 
 
 With the loving heart of Mother pressing near. 
 
 Now the storm might rage without, 
 
 All the thunder clap and shout. 
 
 And the lightning play in splendor round our 
 
 bed; 
 But our hearts could know no fear 
 With that dear face bending near; 
 With her presence every bugaboo had fled. 
 
 When the storms of life rage sore, 
 And the clash and mighty roar 
 Of the conflict seem to flood my very brain, 
 
 [24] 
 
Then I shrink sometimes in fear 
 
 And I long again to hear 
 
 That dear voice amidst the battling of the rain. 
 
 [25] 
 
ON SEEING A PICTURE OF THE 
 LAWRENCE SCHOOLGIRLS 
 
 Under a spreading maple tree 
 
 The Lawerence schoolgirls posed; 
 
 The tall and the short, the slim, the stout, 
 
 The fair and the stubby nosed. 
 
 And with that group posed memory 
 Of the years along gone by. 
 When they indeed were schoolgirls 
 With bright and laughing eye. 
 
 Old-time games to mind were called 
 And tales of love's young dream. 
 With virtues of their teacher dear. 
 Whose boat has crossed the stream 
 
 And anchors now close by the shore 
 Beyond the " swelling tide," 
 And there awaits the schoolgirls 
 Now scattered far and wide. 
 
 Little women, then, were they, 
 These matrons of today; 
 Sober thoughts were not unmixed 
 With frivolous and gay. 
 
 Jokes with laughter went the round. 
 And each one took her share; 
 
 [26] 
 
For matron-girls, like schoolgirls, 
 Will never take a dare. 
 
 Toasts were given, songs were sung. 
 And feasting, too, was had ; 
 And many other things were done 
 To make the hearts grow glad. 
 
 Loved ones in that picture 
 Have crossed the golden stream 
 That separates the here and there 
 As wakeful thoughts the dream. 
 
 You miss them when you gather 
 Around your festal board; 
 They've gone to join their teacher 
 And meet their risen Lord. 
 
 And when the years have faded 
 And time shall be no more, 
 I want that you shall meet them 
 Upon that golden shore. 
 
 [27] 
 
THE STUDENT LIFE 
 
 Oh, the student life is the life for me ! 
 With its wholesome fun and its spirit free. 
 Like the blush of the mom or touch of the air 
 Is the beckoning hope that calls to me fair. 
 
 Begone, dull Care ! We have naught for thee ; 
 From thy visage grim is no need to flee; 
 We're a band of sprites and the song we sing 
 Shall swell with the joy of the budding spring. 
 
 Speed away ! speed away ! We will none of thee, 
 For the life we live shall be full and free; 
 As free as the eagle's wing in its flight 
 When its eye is fixed on the distant height. 
 
 The world may frown and the winds may blow, 
 And the tides of the ocean may ebb and flow ; 
 We reck not of time and we fear not of woe. 
 For our hearts are light as we onward go. 
 
 We will sing ! we will sing ! O Knowledge dear, 
 As we sit at thy feet in the dawning clear, 
 And weave for thee garlands of rarest tints 
 Where the sunlight fair on the river glints. 
 
 From the distant hills in a soft refrain 
 The gist of our song shall return again ; 
 So out of thy fount shall the Future drink 
 
 [28] 
 
As it kneels at thy feet by the river's brink, 
 
 And lives anew some old, old dream 
 
 As it searches for thee in the shining stream. 
 
 [29] 
 
MY FRIEND, THE AGENT 
 
 " There's an agent, is it not, 
 Maggie dear, Maggie dear? 
 And he comes across the, lot, 
 Maggie dear; 
 To the burden of his song 
 We shall have to listen long, 
 For he seemeth good and strong, 
 Maggie dear. 
 
 " You will stay outside the gate. 
 Friend of mine, friend of mine; 
 I would have you stand and wait, 
 Friend of mine; 
 I've no time to see your book, 
 And no love for Doctor Cook, 
 And not even will I look, 
 Friend of mine. 
 
 " But you tell me you're a Smith ; 
 
 Is it true, is it true.? 
 
 That you're of my kin and kith; 
 
 Is it true.'^ 
 
 That your people owned no peerage. 
 
 That they traveled a la steerage. 
 
 That they pawned their duds for clearage ; 
 
 Is it true.? 
 
 " That you come from dear old Erin — 
 What is that, what is that.? 
 
 [30] 
 
Have I lost my natural hearin'? 
 What is that? 
 
 You're a son of our green isle? 
 And you've come full many a mile, 
 But you're stopping here a while? 
 What is that? 
 
 " Why, of course I'll buy your book ; 
 
 That's a go, that's a go. 
 
 And I'll have a quiet look, 
 
 That's a go. 
 
 Here's some ' bacca ' and a pipe. 
 
 For the time is fully ripe. 
 
 And the fleeting hours we'll swipe ; 
 
 That's a go. 
 
 " While the smoke shall upward swing 
 Do you hear, do you hear — 
 We will dance the Highland fling ; 
 Do you hear? 
 
 We shall talk of this and that. 
 Of Mike Dooley, and poor Pat 
 Who was drowned just like a rat; 
 Do you hear? 
 
 " When the happy hours have fled, 
 Bonnie lad, bonnie lad. 
 And the morning flames with red, 
 Bonnie lad, 
 
 [31] 
 
We will have an ' Irish stew — ' 
 Just prepared for me and you, 
 An' ye know what we shall do, 
 Bonnie lad." 
 
 [32] 
 
ON THE BAY OF NAPLES 
 
 We drift on the bay of Naples 
 And the world swings idly by ; 
 We dream of the land of childhood 
 With its smiles and its sunny sky. 
 
 And voices to us are calling 
 From the home beyond the sea, 
 As soft as the strains of music 
 That upward floats to me. 
 
 The breezes are softly sighing 
 And the shadows come and go; 
 With laughter and song we journey. 
 And the skies are bending low. 
 
 Beneath us the rippling waters, 
 All glorious in shade and sheen; 
 Beyond us the sunlit mountain 
 In its robes of living green. 
 
 Far off from the isle of somewhere 
 Come the bantering notes of a bird, 
 And memory comes with the singing. 
 Far sweeter than ever was heard. 
 
 No longer the bay's fair bosom 
 Enchants with its silvery sheen; 
 " Sweet home " looms up before us 
 In fancy's golden dream. 
 [33] 
 
ON RECEIVING A CARD FROM A FRIEND 
 
 I CAUGHT the thought intended 
 In the card you mailed to me, 
 But ^fess that on the wislies 
 I am wholly " out at sea." 
 
 Were they tiny little wishes 
 From the fairies in the wood, 
 Bearing hope for my improvement 
 And a prayer that I be good, 
 
 Or just the " season's greetings " 
 To the " Man beside the road," 
 To cheer him on his journey 
 And lighten up his load? 
 
 Your answer I am waiting 
 Where sunbeams idly play; 
 I'm hoping you will answer 
 Ere shall pass another day. 
 
 [34] 
 
SUNDAY MORNING, MARCH 20, 1881 
 
 Mantled in snow, the world below 
 Looks cold and drear; 
 And upward we seek, with spirit meek, 
 For help and cheer. 
 
 Out of the sky with laughing eye 
 
 King Sol looks down, 
 
 And smiles in peace at the whitened fleece 
 
 Of the gray old town. 
 
 But his smile is gone like the careless song 
 Of a gay young cavalier. 
 And the joy it brought was hardly wrought 
 Till it vanished with a tear. 
 
 But we should be glad and never sad. 
 As changes are ushered in. 
 That the sunshine we know, wherever we go, 
 Bides our own hearts within. 
 
 [35] 
 
NIGHT AT HOME 
 
 My " blinds " are drawn 
 
 And I'm alone 
 
 Save for my old clock's monotone, 
 
 Which ticks away in drowsy glee 
 
 And bids the rapid moments flee, 
 
 From Hinterland to distant thee. 
 
 Without, the winds may rift and roar 
 
 And rattle at my parlor door, 
 
 But touch me not at all; 
 
 For in this nook but good cheer dwells. 
 
 Fond fairies work their mystic spells, 
 
 And Ease and Comfort call. 
 
 Wouldst thou with me its pleasures share 
 
 And visions see of treasures rare? 
 
 Then wave thy magic wand; 
 
 Upon the air and over sea 
 
 The rarest thoughts float out to me, 
 
 And I shall understand. 
 
 For distance may not limit thought, 
 And time and space be set at naught 
 Within the mind's sweet way; 
 So shall we gather daisies fair. 
 And twine them in thy glossy hair 
 With song and laughter gay. 
 
 [36] 
 
THE TWO MESSAGES 
 
 Out of the South a harsh note came 
 Sounding, sounding, sounding; 
 Calling out here and there a blame, 
 Bringing to cheek a blush of shame. 
 And into the blood a leap of flame 
 Pounding, pounding, pounding. 
 
 Up from the South one winter's day, 
 Lightly, lightly, lightly. 
 Floated a message of love and cheer 
 Bearing the burden of all the year. 
 Brushing aside the doubt and the fear 
 Brightly, brightly, brightly. 
 
 Which is the message that thou wouldst choose, 
 
 Truly, truly, truly? 
 
 The one that should make the spirit sad. 
 
 Or banish the thoughts of the evil and bad 
 
 And fill you with those of the good and the 
 
 glad ? 
 Ponder it duly, duly. 
 
 Life is too short to imagine ills. 
 Deary, deary, deary; 
 Burdens there are both real and true, 
 Tasks that are standing for us to do, 
 Something that calls unto me and to you, 
 Cheery, cheery, cheery. 
 
 [37] 
 
Shall we not, then, the better forgive 
 Quickly, quickly, quickly? 
 Casting the stinging retort away, 
 Looking for kind things we may say, 
 Wishing the good with each newborn day, 
 Gleichlich, gleichlich, gleichlich? 
 
 [38] 
 
GOOD HEALTH 
 
 The fairest, the sweetest, the dearest boon 
 
 That our pilgrimage earthly may know. 
 
 That can give us a smile and a word worth 
 
 while 
 To the fellow that with us would go. 
 That will hearten all life, give our thanks to 
 
 the wife 
 For her courage and help in the fight. 
 And make life seem sweet to the one we may 
 
 meet 
 Who is striving to win for the right, is — 
 
 Good health. 
 
 Oh, treasure it, care for it, prize it as gold, 
 Gamer it gladly as you're growing old. 
 Help those about you its blessings to reap, 
 Let not your powers for giving it sleep ; 
 Then from the star- jeweled regions above. 
 Where fairest angels chant stories of love. 
 Shall descend on you in measure supreme 
 Blessings far richer than all you could dream. 
 Then from among them in choosing be bold ; 
 Take you this boon that is better than gold — 
 
 Good health. 
 
 [39] 
 
TO A FORxMER PUPIL 
 
 Your wishes, pupil dear, 
 
 This time were very clear, 
 
 And I'll treasure them each one with loving 
 
 care; 
 Though I live to be fourscore, 
 I'll forget them nevermore, 
 And will keep them with my treasures rich and 
 
 rare. 
 
 In that little " cedar chest," 
 
 With the keepsakes of the blest. 
 
 Where mem'ries bright are hidden from the 
 
 view, 
 I shall safely tuck away 
 All the nice things you may say, 
 And often they shall make me think of you. 
 
 Then some misty, moisty day 
 
 When my mind is far away 
 
 And memory shall haunt the backward track, 
 
 I shall hale them into sight 
 
 And shall laugh with my delight 
 
 As the fragrance of their incense cometh back. 
 
 Then it's dreaming I shall be, 
 And I'll close my eyes and see 
 Many faces of the happy long-ago ; 
 
 [40] 
 
'Haps I'll waken with a start 
 
 And a pain about my heart, 
 
 'Cause so many of the dear ones had to go. 
 
 But " He doeth all things well," 
 
 Is the story I would tell 
 
 To the weak and weary-hearted by the way ; 
 
 In some sweeter, fairer clime 
 
 We shall voice the theme divine 
 
 Of redemption and of life's eternal day. 
 
 [41] 
 
MR. GROUND HOG 
 
 Howdy ! Mister Ground Hog, 
 How do you do? 
 Been a mighty long time 
 Since I last saw you. 
 
 Springtime has faded, 
 Summer come and gone. 
 Tell me. Mister Ground Hog, 
 Why away so long? 
 
 Autumn with its sunshine. 
 Winter with its cold ; 
 Surely, Mister Ground Hog, 
 You are growing old. 
 
 Any little " hoggies " 
 Hiding in your nest. 
 Snugly tucked away 
 'Cause you love 'em best? 
 
 Ah ! you saucy ground hog. 
 Sly old fox are you. 
 Posing as a weather-man: 
 Tell us what's to do. 
 
 [42] 
 
A PALACE OF HOME 
 
 There's a " mystical palace of home " 
 Which beckons wherever we stray — 
 By valley or lake, through deep-tangled brake, 
 O'er ocean or starlighted bay. 
 
 Ere Day sends his shafts through the dawn 
 And pierces its shadows with light ; 
 When the spell of the hour is present in power 
 And the day god stands forth on the night; 
 
 When Mom lifts her head in the east 
 And mountain peaks glow with her light ; 
 When breezes are blowing and cattle are lowing 
 And swallows are seen in their flight ; 
 
 When mists from the valley are drifting 
 
 And landscapes appear to the view; 
 
 Where waters are falling and songbirds are 
 
 calling 
 And glad hearts are beating for you — 
 
 Oh, then, and oh, there, that dear home 
 
 Doth lure us by night and by day, 
 
 Till hearts are aflame when we breathe the sweet 
 
 name 
 As we travel life's turbulent way. 
 
 [43] 
 
on, 
 
 THAT CALENDAR 
 
 'Tis not because 'tis winter 
 Nor mantled the earth with snow ; 
 'Tis not because the trees are bare 
 That in the picture show ; 
 
 It is because, O sly one, 
 A face looks out to see, 
 And puts the simple questio 
 " Were you expecting me? " 
 
 Was I expecting thee, dear girl. 
 
 To call a challenge fair, 
 
 While from those saucy eyes there spoke, 
 
 " I'll never take a dare " ? 
 
 As well expect the fleecy clouds 
 That marshal overhead 
 To whisper to the maple tree 
 The thoughts you've never said. 
 
 As well expect a bashful swain 
 To say, " You're looking sweet " ; 
 Or bid a staid old fellow ask 
 To kneel there at your feet — 
 
 To kneel there in "The Beautiful," 
 And freeze his pesky feet 
 While gazing at the maple near 
 And trying to say, " You're sweet." 
 
 [44] 
 
All this is in the calendar 
 
 That on my table lies 
 
 And beckons cross the picket fence 
 
 With glad and laughing eyes. 
 
 [45] 
 
OLD ERIN 
 
 Your hills are the rarest, 
 Your women the fairest, 
 Your men are the squarest 
 The sky e'er hung o'er; 
 Blest, blest Tipperary, 
 The home of my Mary, 
 My own little fairy 
 Who stands at her door. 
 
 Her eyes are the bluest. 
 Her heart is the truest. 
 Her faults are the fewest 
 Of ladies galore; 
 I'm pining to hold her. 
 Completely enfold her. 
 Her head on my shoulder. 
 In front of her door. 
 
 For her I'll be dying, 
 (At least I'll be trying) 
 Yea, even be flying 
 O'er hill and wild moor ; 
 I'll meet in her garden 
 The dear Dolly Varden, 
 If none shall be guardin' 
 Her own cabin door. 
 
 [46] 
 
AMO — AM AS — AM AT 
 
 Out of your beckoning eyes of blue, 
 Fairer than sunlit skies, 
 Springs a greeting that calls me to you 
 Straight as the arrow flies. 
 
 Sound of your voice I may not hear. 
 Girl of the winsome eye. 
 Nevertheless the call is clear, 
 Like as the dove's low cry. 
 
 Forth from your eyes steals fair young love, 
 Gentle as zephyr of spring. 
 Calling as sweet as the mating dove, 
 Bidding my own heart sing. 
 
 This is the message that comes to me; 
 Swift will I heed its call. 
 Standing under the chestnut tree 
 Close by your garden wall: 
 
 " Down where the clear spring bubbles up 
 
 Meet me at eventide. 
 
 Fill to the brim my loving cup 
 
 Out of your own heart's tide." 
 
 [47] 
 
TO A ROBIN 
 
 I HEARD you singing ^^our mating song, 
 Into the evening sky, 
 Perched aloft on the topmost bough, 
 Over the earth so high. 
 
 Whence your joy, O bonny bird, 
 Caroling forth so free? 
 All of the world is glad for you, 
 Won by your happy glee. 
 
 Over your crest a lingering ray 
 Gives you a crown of light, 
 Kisses the earth in its onward march 
 Into the fold of night. 
 
 Over the earth the shadows creep. 
 Silent and dark and long. 
 Shutting away the daylight fair, 
 Hushing your mating song. 
 
 Happy bird of the springtime fair, 
 Tell us your secret true ; 
 Know you aught of the Father's care 
 Out of the sky's deep blue? 
 
 Have you a thought that He cares for you 
 Ever the live-long day, 
 Counting your joys on His rosary 
 Over the Milky Way, 
 
 [48] 
 
Watching your flight in the newborn day, 
 Minding with jealous care, 
 Pausing not in His love for you, 
 Guarding from every snare? 
 
 If unto you such love is given 
 
 Out of the Father's care, 
 
 Why should not we, His children true. 
 
 Come to Him everywhere? 
 
 [49] 
 
AN EASTER GREETING 
 
 Old college chum, the time is here ; 
 The Eastertide is drawing near; 
 And I shall try to make it clear 
 How many eggs I've hid. 
 
 Your question is a timely one, 
 And breathes of golden days we've done - 
 Of merry quips and sport and fun 
 And college stunts we did. 
 
 As many eggs I've hid away 
 
 As bottles had we on that day — 
 
 Save only one; 
 
 Across our lawn the sunshine lay, 
 
 And we were full of life and gay — 
 
 Our work undone. 
 
 But now the silv'ry hair has come; 
 Our thoughts go back ; we idly drum, 
 And dream the while; 
 Our journey oft was rough and steep, 
 The pathway sometimes hard to keep 
 On many a mile. 
 
 But you are now a doctor great, 
 With patients oft that idly wait 
 To take their turn ; 
 
 [50] 
 
Of Blackstone I was somewhat fond- 
 Of hunting, fishing in the pond, 
 With idle time to bum. 
 
 Beyond the tide that sets at last 
 May loyal Friendship hold us fast 
 In her embrace ; 
 
 Oh, then we'll sing the songs we knew 
 And talk of loved ones tried and true, 
 By His good grace. 
 
 [61] 
 
BE YOUNG IN HEART, THOUGH OLD 
 IN YEARS 
 
 Have you fallen away from that gladsome day 
 
 When life was in its spring? 
 
 Do 3'our thoughts grow sear with the passing 
 
 year ? 
 Does your heart no longer sing? 
 
 Do the moon's fair beams multiply your dreams 
 When the soul drinks in the night? 
 Does the starlit sky from its archway high 
 Bring a vision anew of right? 
 
 Does the whispering breeze in the maple trees 
 
 Steal from your shoulders the years? 
 
 Does it bring you the joy of the barefooted 
 
 boy 
 With a heart that is free from fears? 
 
 If you dwell no more by the flower-lined shore 
 Of childhood's laughing stream, 
 And feel not the joy of a glad-hearted boy, 
 Or the charm of his simple dream — 
 
 You've missed the good part of the simple heart 
 That seeks not for gold but for men ; 
 Your vision is bound to the lowly ground 
 In the now and the coming then, 
 
 [62] 
 
The hills may be bright with the autumn's light, 
 The valleys with flowers abloom; 
 They reveal not the story of nature's rich glory 
 To him who is 'mersed in gloom. 
 
 [53] 
 
AN ICONOCLASTIC MOUSE 
 
 A TEENSEY, weensey mouse 
 
 Slyly crept within my house 
 
 Where I dwelt by the king's broad way. 
 
 For the color did you call? 
 
 I remember not at all, 
 
 But it must have been a plain mouse-gray. 
 
 It found reposing there 
 
 Many trophies rich and rare 
 
 Slowly gathered from the king's domain ; 
 
 These it calmly rent and tore, 
 
 Idly cast upon the floor. 
 
 Heeding not at all my bitter cry of pain. 
 
 Here it took a lily fair 
 That had twined within the hair 
 Of a friend, both true and faithful all the years ; 
 And it tore it, bit by bit. 
 Leaving not a single whit. 
 
 And I stood there only laughing through my 
 tears. 
 
 Next my rosary it took. 
 Sought my cozy ingle nook, 
 And every bead it counted one by one ; 
 Then it snapped the silken cord 
 That sustained my precious hoard 
 And slyly laughed when all its work was done. 
 
 [54] 
 
E'en a little chamber fair 
 
 That I called my " place of prayer," 
 
 Where countless inspirations had been given, 
 
 Was most calmly overturned 
 
 And its contents gently spumed, 
 
 And all its hallowed mem'ries forth were driven. 
 
 you naughty, naughty mouse! 
 To thus invade my house 
 
 And havoc play with what you there did find ; 
 Yet, mousie dear, you see 
 
 1 can never bid you flee, 
 
 For all the while I know that love is blind. 
 
 [55] 
 
CRUCIFIXION AND RESURRECTION 
 
 The silence of night lay upon Olivet. The rays of 
 a silver moon shot athwart her rugged brow. The 
 shadows of the gnarled and ancient olives spread like 
 a dark patchwork upon her , quiet valleys. No note 
 of bird or stir of leaf broke the stillness. Down yon- 
 der where the hem of the valley dips to the brook 
 Kedron, twelve men appear, moving with quiet, stately 
 step. Now their cowls show forth dark and mysterious 
 in the subdued light of the valley, and again are lost 
 in the shadows. The awful crisis of the mightiest 
 moral battle in all the annals of time was about to 
 occur. Both heaven and earth were vitally interested 
 in the issue of that test. The Son of Man, conscious 
 of the nature of that test as no other ever has been 
 of impending agony, cried unto the Father, " If it be 
 possible, let this cup pass from me"; but the Savior 
 of the world, the only Begotten of the Father, in a 
 spirit of filial obedience which has challenged the ad- 
 miration of all chivalrous souls from that time to this, 
 added, " nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt." 
 And because the whole earth needed lifting up, the 
 sacrificial compact was sealed in the blood of the Son. 
 
 Bereft of hope, with burdened hearts 
 
 and downcast eyes 
 His followers drew away. 
 From out their lives, in torture and humility, 
 
 had passed their friend 
 On that momentous day. 
 
 Despair upon each saddened face, 
 
 once radiant with hope, 
 Had cast her mantle grim, 
 
 [56] 
 
In all the awful wreck and ruin 
 
 of that mysterious hour 
 They read no trace of him. 
 
 And Nature, too, in stately confirmation 
 made manifest her concord 
 
 That sad and fateful hour. 
 
 In clefted rock, in quiv'ring earth, 
 in sundered temple veil. 
 
 She shadowed forth her power. 
 
 But now a change behold ! 
 The Lord of life has risen 
 Triumphant over death. 
 It is the happy Easter morn, 
 And anxious ones are waiting 
 With tense and bated breath. 
 
 No longer dwells He in that tomb, 
 Bleak emblem of mortality, 
 But swift as light has risen. 
 On mountain top, in lowly vale, 
 Wherever dwell the sons of men, 
 A boundless hope is given. 
 
 To those who wear the fetters forged 
 by dark and dread despair, 
 
 He comes as comes the light. 
 
 Like mists of morn that disappear 
 before the king of day, 
 
 So scatters He their night. 
 
 [57] 
 
To luiniblc souls witli vision bound 
 He comes witli power divine, 
 
 And satisfies their longing. 
 
 Like flocks of birds at eventide 
 
 that gather in some, forest fair, 
 
 New views of life come thronging. 
 
 From out the impulse born of hope, 
 
 clear streams of love 
 Have channeled deep in human life. 
 Upon their banks have blossomed forth 
 
 peace, charity, and gentleness, 
 In place of hatred, discord, strife. 
 
 And as the Master while on earth 
 ne'er weary grew in doing good 
 
 Where need most pressing seemed. 
 
 So now the new and better race of men, 
 in forest, busy mart, and field. 
 
 Dares do the things He did and dreamed. 
 
 [58] 
 
TO A NEW YORK LADY GUEST 
 
 State of the dual emblem, 
 
 Fair empire of the East, 
 
 Thy sons and daughters honor thee 
 
 In warfare and in peace. 
 
 The maple green upon thy crest 
 Gives shelter to the rose; 
 Thy name is known from zone to zone 
 Wherever commerce goes. 
 
 Thy vine-clad hills seem fairer, 
 Thy valleys richer are 
 Than far-famed vales of Cashmere 
 Or Afric's golden bar. 
 
 And gleaming in the sunlight 
 Thy purple hills among, 
 Thy limpid lakes are fairest 
 Of all by poets sung. 
 
 The Nile is old in story ; 
 Midst castles flows the Rhine; 
 But thou alone, old Hudson, 
 Of rivers art divine. 
 
 Thy noble Adirondacks 
 Thy poet proudly sings 
 Where'er the sun in glory 
 His crimson banner flings. 
 [59] 
 
Thou daughter of an empire, 
 Fair region of the blest, 
 Accept from us this greeting 
 As Hoosiers of the West. 
 
 [60] 
 
TO MY FRIEND, JACOB ELLSWORTH 
 HINSHAW 
 
 Forty-nine, did you say? Fling the record 
 
 away. 
 For I'm sure that it does not speak true ; 
 Only moments do count in the soul's upward 
 
 mount 
 To the heights of the sky's deep blue. 
 
 Life's measured by deeds, to the fearless who 
 
 leads 
 In the battle that's waged for the right ; 
 He dwells in the dust whose keen blade suffers 
 
 rust 
 When humanity calls to the fight. 
 
 Alone ? Yes and no ; when faced by the foe. 
 Thousands seven have never yet kneeled ; 
 Brave Gideon's band is ever at hand 
 When a hero shall take to the field. 
 
 " Be of good cheer," is the message we hear 
 From the lips that speak infinite love; 
 " My help shall not fail when thy foes most as- 
 sail," 
 Is the word of thy Father above. 
 
 [61] 
 
LINES FOR THE ALBUM OF MISS 
 . BONNER 
 
 While yet the year was in its lusty youth 
 And even' bud with golden promise fraught, 
 When still the air was filled with sweets 
 From gardens, fields, and tangled w^ildwood 
 brought, 
 
 This volume, filled with many a friendly token 
 In words of love and truth most fitly spoken. 
 Came round that I a place therein might find 
 And thus a corner have within your friendly 
 mind. 
 
 • •••••• 
 
 Promise gives place to the ripe fruit of Autumn ; 
 The ho'pe of the seedtimes, the harvest makes 
 
 sure ; 
 'Tis the thought of fulfillment that beckons us 
 
 onward ; 
 The diamond, though hidden, yet acts as a lure. 
 
 My promise went forth in the springtime; 
 With the Summer it strengthened and grew ; 
 And now, as the autumn shades lengthen, 
 By the great law of Nature 'tis due. 
 
 [62] 
 
RURAL SOCIABILITY 
 
 "How's your little chickens, 'Liza.? Mine's a 
 
 doin' fine; 
 Got a hundred fifty odd — ye oughter see 'em 
 
 shine. 
 Old-fashioned Domemickers is good enough fer 
 
 me; 
 No highferlutin' chickens is a roostin' on our 
 
 tree. 
 
 " Just common, everyday, good old-fashioned 
 
 chicks — 
 Nothin' more ner less, I say, than plain old 
 
 Domemicks ; 
 Kind that talks o' mornin's, about the peek o' 
 
 day, 
 An' tells you purty plain, I guess, 'at he is here 
 
 to stay. 
 
 " Find 'em roamin' fur an' wide, a-pickin' up the 
 
 bugs; 
 They're not the kind you keep alive by wrappin' 
 
 them in rugs. 
 No, sireel They're up and off as soon as it is 
 
 light. 
 Always ready fer a bug er spilin' fer a fight. 
 
 " Sassy ? Well, I reckon so ; you oughter see 
 'em talk; 
 
 [63] 
 
'Gin to notice what's a doln' as soon as they kin 
 
 walk. 
 Sometimes if there is danger a-lurkin' in the air, 
 They'll call the whole caboodle and form a hol- 
 low square. 
 
 " Just like soldiers on the field afore they have 
 
 to fight — 
 A-marchin' here and yonder and a-callin' left 
 
 and right. 
 The rooster is the major, and he calls the orders 
 
 straight ; 
 There's no such thing in his command as ever 
 
 bein' late. 
 
 " Fer if you're late, he calls you an' you sneak 
 
 away an' hide 
 An' take your chance with danger er whatever 
 
 may betide, 
 An' the only consolation 'ats offered to you then. 
 Is never, never, never to do the like again. 
 
 " Fer if you're late a second time, he reads the 
 
 riot call. 
 An' then you're left to cackle beyond the garden 
 
 wall — 
 Out where the hawks kin git you, er the weasel 
 
 er the mink. 
 An' send you into kingdom come afore your 
 
 eye kin wink. 
 
 [64] 
 
" Oh, the dear old Dominicker is the bird that 
 
 takes my eye, 
 Fer if the flood should come again, you'd find 
 
 him roostin' high. 
 He'd beat the waters to it jest as sure as you 
 
 are bom, 
 An' be right there when momin' came the other 
 
 chicks to warn." 
 
 [65] 
 
A PICTURE 
 
 On the wall of my lady's chamber, 
 In her villa by the sea, 
 You may look upon a picture 
 That has long enchanted me. 
 
 'Tis a story of life's struggles, 
 Of a courage brave and strong 
 That has battled for the victory 
 In the strife 'twixt right and wrong. 
 
 Musing now upon the picture, 
 I can hear the clear-toned call 
 Sounding forth to all the ages 
 From the time of man's first fall 
 
 'Tis the call to all life's heroes 
 For a spirit brave and true, 
 For a will that stands for purpose, 
 And a heart to dare and do. 
 
 Shall we heed the pictured message 
 And resolve anew to fight 
 In the cause of human freedom. 
 In the stiniggle for the right.'' 
 
 Or shall we worship goodness 
 While we calmly stand and wait. 
 Leaving the fight to heroes, 
 And trusting that somehow fate 
 [66] 
 
Shall bring us at last to the portal 
 Where manhood stands supreme 
 In the glory of achievement 
 In the sunset's mellow gleam? 
 
 [67] 
 
MOMENTS 
 
 Life is formed of little moments, 
 Some of them of golden hue, 
 Some as bright as Summer's sunshine. 
 Other some of wretched blue — 
 
 Moments rife with pain or pleasure, 
 Friendships strong or hatreds deep, 
 Moments that are meant for laughter, 
 God-appointed ones to weep. 
 
 Shall we learn a lesson from these 
 Little moments fleeting by ? 
 Listen to the message given, 
 *^ Act, then, act before you die." 
 
 [68] 
 
TO MY FATHER ON HIS EIGHTIETH 
 BIRTHDAY 
 
 In the olden days when the poplar tall 
 Raised its proud head to the azure blue, 
 And caught in the wealth of its shining crown 
 The priceless gems of the sparkling dew ; 
 
 When the gnarled oak tree, sturdy and strong, 
 Stood like a sentinel brave and bold, 
 And flung out its arms to the Summer's wind. 
 Nor trembled at all at the Winter's cold — 
 
 There came to the woodlands, brawny and spare 
 The bold pioneer on his " Westward ho 1 " 
 And builded his cabin with courage rare. 
 Near where the spring's tide murmured low. 
 
 That was a task that could challenge men 
 Filled with a purpose to dare and to do ; 
 Winning a home from the forest wild. 
 Carving it out for me and for you. 
 
 Humble it was and lowly withal. 
 But there abode faith and hope and love ; 
 Welcome was stranger to share its store 
 Garnered from earth and the sky above. 
 
 Eighty long years I That is full fourscore ; 
 Wonderful years crowded full to the brim 
 With toil and achievement given for us 
 Who gather this day to remember him. 
 
 [69] 
 
From meager clearing to broad, fertile field ; 
 From the lowly hut to the mansion fair; 
 From sickle and scythe, with their mead of toil, 
 To the matchless reaper's onward sweep. 
 Is a forward stride in the world's great race 
 That reads like a tale from a volume rare. 
 
 [70] 
 
ON HEARING A SERMON 
 
 From God's eternal hills above 
 His matchless love descends, 
 Warms into life our struggling faith 
 And with our spirits blends. 
 
 Though low on life's horizon 
 Despair's dark clouds shall roll, 
 The sunshine of His presence 
 May lighten up the soul 
 
 And put to flight the somber thoughts 
 Which veil from us the view 
 Of the radiance and the splendor 
 In the good that we can do. 
 
 Then to the everlasting hills afar 
 Your weary soul uplift. 
 And catch the gleam of sunshine 
 That trembles at the rift 
 
 For him whose look is upward 
 To the sun-crowned hills above, 
 Where life doth spring supernal 
 From the Master's boundless love. 
 
 [71] 
 
HOPE 
 
 In the fair morn of life, 
 
 Ere a cloud of deception 
 
 Has darkened the sky of a future all bright, 
 
 The day-star of hope 
 
 In the heavens above us 
 
 Brings joy on the beams of its soft, silver 
 
 light— 
 
 A light that to human hearts 
 Burdened with sorrow, 
 Bears the joy, the comfort 
 And peace of the morrow. 
 
 [72] 
 
EVENING 
 
 Far up in the thin, blue air 
 The crow now homeward flies ; 
 While westward toward the setting sun, 
 His daily course now almost run, 
 The fleecy clouds, piled fold on fold. 
 Are lighting up the skies. 
 
 Out from each rugged peak 
 That tips some golden mount, 
 A gleam of pure silv'r-grey. 
 Fit harbinger of closing day. 
 Trembles a moment paramount. 
 Then lightly drifts away. 
 
 But long enough it rested there. 
 
 Airy and light and gay. 
 
 Flashing its rays of hope and cheer 
 
 Into some life that was sad and drear. 
 
 To steal through the lattice of her who wept 
 
 And warm her sad heart with its cheerful ray. 
 
 [73] 
 
CHILDHOOD'S CALL 
 
 At eventide, when the sun is low 
 
 And the skj is streaked by its afterglow, 
 
 When the gentle dews begin to 'still 
 
 Where the shadows lengthen beyond the hill. 
 
 There comes to me through memory's aisle 
 
 The artless prattle of a darling child. 
 
 Like music it falls on the waiting ear 
 With a cadence so sweet and a tone so clear 
 That I answer back, " Come, come, my dear. 
 To the father's arms as he waits you here " ; 
 Then outward I reach for a little hand — 
 But clasp it I know that I never can. 
 
 And all the night long in the silence deep, 
 As the hours glide by with majestic sweep. 
 My heart is a-hungry, my eyelids weep. 
 And my feet a-weary would climb the steep 
 For a glimpse of my child whose sweet voice I 
 
 hear 
 As it drifts unto me from the shadows drear. 
 
 But it may not be thus ; the years have fled ; 
 The bow has been bent and the arrow sped 
 On its outward course, and it comes no more 
 With the flow of the tide to the nearby shore. 
 So the years have departed and lie there dead. 
 With the fragrance of youth-time long since fled. 
 
 [74] 
 
DA VINCI AND THE PICTURE 
 
 With brush in hand, Da Vinci 
 Before the canvas sat, depressed; 
 No ray of hght his mind illumed, 
 His soul was sore distressed. 
 
 In one transcendent moment 
 
 The Lord of life vouchsafed his grace ; 
 
 But anger 'gainst his friend swept o'er his soul 
 
 And lost to him the sweet, inspiring face. 
 
 Upon the canvas, cruel, harsh, 
 A Judas flashed his hateful greed; 
 The painter's soul had wrought the look 
 That made his friend perform the deed. 
 
 Hatred in Da Vinci's soul 
 With love could not abide ; 
 The cruel wrong he did his friend 
 Had thrust the good aside. 
 
 In vain the Master's face he sought, 
 No more there came the beatific smile ; 
 The evil he had done was unforgiven ; 
 His soul was dark with bitter guile. 
 
 Painters are we in pigments rich and rare 
 Upon life's canvas, stained by many a flaw ; 
 Our thoughts the brushes and our deeds the art. 
 Censored ever by undeviating law. 
 
 [76] 
 
THE WINTER WIND 
 
 I MARVEL at the capers of the wind 
 
 As it fiercely gathers round my window blind 
 
 With its swish and whish and whwoo, 
 
 With its uill and dare and do. 
 
 Seeking every nook and cranny it may find. 
 
 Now it moves with gentle measure down the 
 
 street, 
 Lightly scatters fairy snowflakes at my feet ; 
 And once more I'm just a boy 
 Filled with laughter and with joy, 
 And my snowball whizzes on its journey fleet. 
 
 Now it tarries by the forest and the stream 
 In a sort of lazy, hazy, languorous dream, 
 Bringing thoughts of summer days 
 And of green and pleasant ways, 
 With the brightness and the swiftness of a 
 gleam. 
 
 Once more it smites with fierceness at mv 
 
 door; 
 Like a giant in its fury doth it roar 
 Till it makes the hedges quake, 
 And the very earth to shake. 
 And the shivers swift to shoot across my floor. 
 
 [76] 
 
But with tropic heat my fire beats back the 
 
 frost, 
 Drives it quickly o'er the threshold where it 
 
 crossed ; 
 There it lies and pants awhile 
 Like some willful, pouting child, 
 Then is gathered by the Frost King and is lost. 
 
 FIrom the darkness of the night there comes a 
 
 wail 
 Like the sad notes of a spirit, worn and pale 
 With its vigils of the night 
 And its longings for the light, 
 Which trembles at the dawn yet does but fail. 
 
 'Tis the wailing of the Frost King in the air. 
 
 Seeking what he may devour that's bright and 
 fair ; 
 
 With a quick and stealthy tread 
 
 From his kingdom hath he fled. 
 
 And his footprints marked with death are every- 
 where. 
 
 [77] 
 
CHILDHOOD'S DAY 
 A PARODY 
 
 How dear to the heart are the brooks where we 
 
 angled 
 When springtime with flowers had brightened 
 
 the land ; 
 When gaily we hied over sweet-scented meadows 
 To brooks on w^hose banks shone the pearly white 
 
 sand. 
 How large in our fancy those dear little min- 
 nows 
 When boyish endeavor had made them our prey, 
 And, dancing on high, as our bended pins held 
 
 them, 
 They seemed little whales in our child's light of 
 
 day — 
 A day full of promise, so soon to glide from us 
 When come riper years and hairs turning to 
 
 gi'ay. 
 
 A crown for those pleasures ! the dearest of 
 
 treasures 
 That gladden the heart of the man-aping boy ; 
 Since cheer is a beacon with many a blessing, 
 Oh, turn his young ills into unclouded joy! 
 " He's nothing to bear," says a sturdy old 
 
 father ; 
 " His griefs are as nothing ; his spirit is gay. 
 You've only to flog him and keep him a-going, 
 
 [78] 
 
And he'll make a man in his own time and 
 
 day."— 
 A day full of promise, so soon to glide from us 
 When come riper years and hairs turning to 
 
 gray. 
 
 Ah I manhood's estate brings us many a treasure 
 To gladden the man-heart and lighten the care, 
 And business pursuits full of infinite pleasure, 
 With monied exchanges that glitter and glare: 
 But back of them all is a green, sunny island 
 Where Mother is queen and her subjects not 
 
 men, 
 Where ripples of laughter and sunshine are 
 
 mingled. 
 And small are the clouds on that day to our ken. 
 A day full of promise, so soon to glide from us 
 When come riper years and hairs turning to 
 
 gray. 
 
 [79] 
 
TO MY FRIEND, DR. E. N. CANADA 
 
 I MET him in the Hall of Fame, 
 
 And, anxious, sought his proper name. 
 
 He quickly said, " You're in the game — 
 
 Can-a-da." 
 
 " It was not for your food I sought. 
 Nor where you buy or what you bought." 
 He answered, " You're a dandy naught — 
 CanadaJ*^ 
 
 I looked into his laughing eye 
 And thought to have another try ; 
 And this time swift he made reply, 
 " Canada:' 
 
 " What odds to me from whence you came ; 
 I wish to know your proper name." 
 Again he said, " You're rather tame — 
 Cana-da:' 
 
 " You must be mad or lame or sore 
 
 To answer thus, and o'er and o'er." 
 
 " I'll tell you, then," he said, " once more — 
 
 Can-tt'-da:' 
 
 " What shall I do or where shall go ? 
 Your proper name I have to know." 
 " I'm sure," he said, " you're very slow — 
 Why, Canada, of course." 
 
 [80] 
 
WHEN MARY HAS A MAN 
 
 The skies take on a rosy hue, 
 The nights distill a sweeter dew, 
 The bluebirds don a brighter blue, 
 When Mary has a man. 
 
 The robin sings a gayer note. 
 Old William is a better goat, 
 And Sandy is a nicer shoat, 
 When Mary has a man. 
 
 The fireflies make a finer show, 
 The cattle sound a fonder low, 
 The cabbage seems to swifter grow, 
 When Mary has a man. 
 
 The daisies gently bend and nod, 
 And happy is the goldenrod ; 
 All nature seems a-praising God, 
 When Mary has a man. 
 
 When Mary has a man, ah, dear I 
 It seems to clear the atmosphere; 
 No longer are the moments drear. 
 When Mary has a man. 
 
 Will years roll on in grand attune. 
 Will marriage prove a gladsome boon 
 With every day a honeymoon, 
 When Mary has a man? 
 
 [81] 
 
SAMBO'S COURTING 
 
 HuccuM you all done bain fum home 
 ^Vl^ain Sambo comes a-co'tin'? 
 You all suah knows when Sa'day comes 
 'Tis dain I goes a-spo'tin'. 
 
 Now hones' fess an' doan digress, 
 I'll naiver stan' no foolin' ; 
 A knows a bit, ahm tellin' hit 
 F'a naiver had no schoolin'. 
 
 Shucks ! whut's de use, yuh li'l goose, 
 A-trailin' wif yuh 'fections? 
 Lay baiah yuh heart, le's make a start, 
 An' latah talk of 'flections. 
 
 No 'flections goes if Sambo knows 
 Whut's in dis kinky noggin ; 
 Dat ole black crow, he shorely know 
 Yuh 'fections need a joggin'. 
 
 Ma heart acts queah; say, cain't yuh heah? 
 Ma soul am suah repinin'. 
 Dain quit yuh kiddin' and do ma biddin', 
 We all will soon be j'inin'. 
 
 Den happy bells will fill de dells 
 Upon dis ole plantashun ; 
 We all will sing twell de sky shall ring 
 Wif de happy jubilashun. 
 
 [82] 
 
SHALL WE TRUST HIM? 
 
 Shall we ever dare to trust Him as a child? 
 Will we leave the lonely hillside bare and wild, 
 And rally at His feet as He treads the busy 
 
 street, 
 And learn to smile on others as He smiled? 
 
 Shall we go into the valley if there's need? 
 Gladly lay aside the burden of our greed. 
 And in His precious name heal the sick and halt 
 
 and lame, 
 Knowing always that the captive shall be freed? 
 
 Shall we give the cup of water in His name? 
 Will we hold our peace in silence if there's 
 
 blame? 
 Will we loyal be and true all the pilgrim j ourney 
 
 through. 
 Seeking not the luring thing that men call fame? 
 
 [83] 
 
HER PARLOR DECORATIONS 
 
 There were bouglis from the tall, stately maple, 
 Brightest flowers of the grass-grown hill. 
 With willows agleam from the slow-winding 
 
 stream. 
 And flags from the pond at the mill. 
 
 Slender " lamb-tongues " but never a lambkin. 
 Yellow " cow-slips " with nowhere a cow. 
 And rare " kitten-breeches " all made without 
 
 stitches — 
 Will the fair ones please answer us how? 
 
 Here the " Wandering-Jew," not by Eugene 
 
 Sue, 
 Clung close to the gilded wall ; 
 While from mantel and stairway, in a mazy and 
 
 rare way. 
 Were palm trees both graceful and tall. 
 
 Here a " pink " of perfection lent charm to a 
 section 
 
 Full crowded with trophies both common and 
 rare; 
 
 But " tulips " can't tell (and doubtless 'tis well) 
 
 Of the grace and the charm that were every- 
 where. 
 
 [84] 
 
SIN'S TOLL 
 
 A BROWN-HAIRED lad from his home went forth 
 When the summer days were long; 
 His hopes ran high, there was light in his eye, 
 And purpose both steady and strong. 
 
 Far, far from his father's roof roamed he. 
 And a song was upon his lips ; 
 And away went he from the billowy sea 
 With its burden of mighty ships. 
 
 Aye, forth went he with a thirst for the new, 
 From the scenes of his early youth ; 
 And in stranger land from hi§ own home-clan 
 He forgot the sweet ways of truth. 
 
 Then skies grew dark and the night let down 
 And the glamour of summer fled ; 
 His heart grew sore as he dreamed of the shore, 
 And wondered if Mother were dead. 
 
 He would forth from the land where the stranger 
 
 dwelt 
 And speed him away to the bounding sea ; 
 From the sweet mother-face every care he would 
 
 chase 
 And he'd laugh and he'd shout in his happy glee. 
 
 [85] 
 
But alack ! and alas ! on one fateful day 
 When the Tempter was near and he knew it not, 
 The fair name he bore in his home by the shore 
 Was blackened and smirched by an awful blot. 
 
 Like many another who bravely fled 
 From the scenes of Duty's clear, sweet call. 
 He had found a bitter Gethsemane 
 To mark the sad scene of his early fall. 
 
 After all, in the cup with its bitter dregs 
 A potion with healing balm shall be ; 
 And out of the sickness of sin, perchance, 
 A better life shall the laddie see. 
 
 The Father above in His matchless love 
 Guardeth us well all the j ourney through ; 
 He giveth us cheer when skies are drear 
 And sends us the rain and the sparkling dew. 
 
 [86] 
 
RURAL OPTIMIST 
 
 " Land o' Goshen 1 'Liza, 
 Cohn's a-lookin' fine; 
 Taters, too, 's a-buggin'. 
 Ever' thing's in line. 
 
 " 'Pears like all creation's 
 Humpin' of herself, 
 Stockin' of the pantry, 
 Loadin' of the shelf. 
 
 " Nearly half the county's 
 Ownin' of a Ford, 
 Goin' to meetin' Sundays 
 Fer to praise the Lord. 
 
 " Walkin's kind o' lonesome 
 Sorter common, too ; 
 Soon we'll be a-flyin' 
 All the journey through." 
 
 [87] 
 
TWILIGHT AND DAWN 
 
 Lo ! appears the purple light, 
 Day is fading into night ; 
 Soon the stars will twinkle bright 
 In the blue above. 
 Little birds within the nest 
 Feel the loving mother-breast 
 Ere they snuggle down to rest, 
 Watched by mother love. 
 
 Softly on the summer breeze 
 Come the voices of the trees. 
 Lulling us to quiet ease. 
 When the day is done. 
 Over us the splendor falls 
 From the night's enchanted halls, 
 Trembles on our palace walls 
 When the night has won. 
 
 Later comes the quiet hush. 
 Ere the morning's rosy flush 
 Wakes anew the singing thrush, 
 Harbinger of day. 
 There beyond the paling moon. 
 Waiting to be ushered soon. 
 Halts a perfect day of June, 
 Ready by the way. 
 
 [88] 
 
ON THE EVE OF COMMENCEMENT 
 
 I NOTICED you this morning, Jennie, 
 Looking off with saddened eye 
 To the distant woods, slow waving. 
 Seeing not the things 'twere nigh. 
 
 And I wondered, as I watched you, 
 If the future's glowing page 
 Did not picture scenes before you 
 Not unworthy of the sage. 
 
 For the time is fast approaching 
 When the golden tinted ray 
 Of the friendly hope that binds us 
 Shall be merged in that great day. 
 
 We grow wise most by the measure 
 Of the time that we employ, 
 But it is the event fashions 
 What shall be our future joy. 
 
 [89] 
 
CLASS POEM, 1880 
 I 
 
 'Twill be a rare pleasure, some day when re- 
 calling 
 
 The days spent in college, Old Alma, the blest, 
 
 When low on the mountains the shadows are 
 creeping 
 
 And soft winds are sighing where purples the 
 West, 
 
 To know in the valley, where Brown leaves are 
 
 falling. 
 Miles away from thy portals, O college most 
 
 dear. 
 Though down to but Nichols our fortune has 
 
 drifted. 
 There is hope for us yet in thy love and good 
 
 cheer. 
 
 With Lucas for captain, A. Leachman for pilot, 
 Our gallant ship, Class, shall sail o'er life's 
 
 main ; 
 And when at the portal at last we shall anchor, 
 From the shore may we hear, " They have lived 
 
 not in vain." 
 
 Our Wagner may write and compose a sweet 
 
 sonnet ; 
 Our Erie may sing with the lark at the morn ; 
 
 [90] 
 
" The Five " without swords may win in fair 
 
 battle ; 
 But Willis shall startle us all with the horn. 
 
 In prose composition dear Lina shall lead us ; 
 In logic Ahe Halleck shall startle the world; 
 While Emily Levina, a classical mourner, 
 Shall wave in the heavens our banner unfurled. 
 
 II 
 
 Great George! would you know it, the secret is 
 
 coming, 
 And duty demands that with Fate we shall cope ; 
 And Smith of our fortunes, we'll strip for the 
 
 battle. 
 Pausing not in the fray till secure is " Our 
 
 Hope." 
 
 [91] 
 
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