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 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
RIVER OF THOUGHTS 
 
 BY 
 OLIVER f^^J^ 
 
 (fsiuJU^^* U^M^M~y+ J 
 
 PRIVATELY PRINTED 
 NEW YORK 
 

 Copyright, 1911, by 
 CHARLOTTE HOYT 
 
 CI. A 2 924 73 
 
River of Thought 
 
 Dear, dear, dear, what have I done? 
 I've written some poems, one by one. 
 Until now they run far out of my life, 
 Out into this great world of love and strife. 
 I pray God they may bring a loving thought 
 . From the world, and on its wing, 
 Just a tiny. song that I can sing. 
 
 Cheer, always cheer, let it ring out clear! 
 
 So that the world may hear, 
 
 And thou shalt bring to thyself a world of cheer I 
 
 Dear little children, so free from care, 
 How they sigh and wish they were grown-ups ! 
 With an air, and a pocket-book tall, 
 And no need to give an account 
 Of the money they spend, 
 Just to buy all the candy and loly-pops, 
 That is all. 
 
 They dream not the sorrow and care, 
 That comes with the air and the pocket-book tall. 
 They know not that the air oft covers 
 A heart that is broken and scarred. 
 And a pocket-book that is ever so tall, 
 Cannot bring happiness, no not at all ! 
 I 
 
I stood for woman's rights, but woman's rights 
 Are men! And there is no need to stand for 
 
 them. 
 They just turn, and twist and bend, 
 To the droop of an eyelash, and wonder 
 Which way you are going to wend. 
 O no, my dear, there is no need to stand for 
 
 them. 
 
 O that I had a thousand tongues to sing 
 
 The glories of my God, 
 
 Who is perfect harmony, life and love. 
 
 In his presence is a most sublime blending 
 
 Of color, tone, and the perfume of countless 
 
 flowers, 
 All creating an atmosphere of exquisite light, 
 That bears the soul on its clouds, 
 Never changing, never ceasing; 
 The result of perfect harmony. 
 
 O for more expressive words, in which to sing 
 The glories of my God! 
 
 Dreaming, my soul, thou must give up 
 
 Thy dreaming! For right soon thou wilt have 
 
 A part to play, in God's world of to-day! 
 
 Come one, come all, and join me 
 In this great, grand march, to the Highest of 
 All ! 
 

 The year is fast departing, that has been to thee 
 
 Such a wealth of love and cheer, 
 
 And also thou hast had thy days that have been 
 
 drear ; 
 But my soul, canst thou for one moment 
 Pit the drear against the cheer? No. 
 And as the year draws on, to gently merge 
 Into the coming one. Thy soul shall receive 
 A new blessing, a hundredfold, 
 Stronger, finer, than of old ! 
 
 Dainty pretty little elves, I see, 
 Dancing there so free. 
 Come let us join them, you and me, 
 And perhaps they will whisper songs of wisdom 
 They bring from o'er the sea. 
 If we join their dance so free, 
 Just you and me ! 
 
 In the coming shadowy nights, 
 
 Thou shalt see strange gleaming lights 
 
 That will awaken in thee a latent power, 
 
 Which thou must bring forth, 
 
 So that others may see; and profit by the light 
 
 That God has given to thee ! 
 
 Death, What is death? The victory 
 Of mind over body. The loosening of cords 
 That bind to this earthly condition, 
 And the mind or soul soars on 
 
To its higher life. Some gain the higher life 
 On this plane, but not many can hold, 
 As the vibrations are exceedingly fine. 
 
 Death, Why Death is a tiny clog, 
 In the wheel of life ! 
 
 Death is the release of the soul 
 
 From its bondage to all earthly conditions. 
 
 Death is when the body, or earthly shell 
 Loses its perfect harmony of movement. 
 Sooner or later follows, what we call Death. 
 
 There dwelt on a lonely hill 
 A shepherd and his sheep. 
 He tended them with infinite care 
 But they alas, would stray 
 Far, far away, and not 
 By their shepherd's side would they stay. 
 He had many a bruised foot 
 And aching heart, but his love 
 Did always sway. 
 
 The night time is here, I must rest 
 
 My body ; but my soul, O how it longs to stay. 
 
 Where all is peace, and hushed 
 
 Is the bustle and hum of day. 
 
 So good night, my love, 
 
I bow my head upon thy pages 
 For a blessing from above. 
 
 my love, art thou coming to bend thy knee, 
 To pray my love for thee? 
 
 1 will give thee all thou ask 
 
 If thou wilt only stand out free. 
 
 Hast thou learned thy lesson well? 
 
 Dost thou love thy God, 
 
 And among his angels dwell? 
 
 Hast thou caught the whisperings 
 
 Or are they from thy soul still with-held? 
 
 O thou sweet entrancing soul, 
 Thou art to me an everlasting joy 
 Always responding to the faintest call. 
 Always vibrating to the highest of all! 
 
 There comes a line of soldiers 
 Marching on their way 
 To the time of the death march 
 For a soul that has flown away. 
 They should lift their heads, 
 And march to a tune more gay, 
 For the soul is with God 
 And is not laid away! 
 
 All the witches gather in the night, 
 To send forth their charms 
 To either blight the life, or kill it 
 5 
 
Outright. So my soul, thou shouldest always 
 Have a light, to drive away their charms 
 From out thy sight. 
 
 Thou must not make thy numbers too high ; 
 Rather give breadth, length and depth 
 To those already inscribed. 
 
 Death, my children, transports the soul 
 To an infinite love, and everlasting 
 Harmony of surroundings. 
 
 Joy is that uplifting of the soul 
 
 Caused by the sudden accession of a desire. 
 
 A crown of thorns is truly ours 
 But each prick should add a star 
 To guide us on our way to God. 
 
 Life, as we count it, is a vast experience 
 But the soul that lives not up 
 To what is the individual mark, 
 Or highest conception, has missed 
 The purpose for which he or she 
 Was permitted to work out this sphere. 
 No two have the same conception as to the high- 
 est 
 A-nd each only is held responsible 
 For the height their mind and soul can grasp. 
 
Life is an exciting contest. 
 
 Each striving to be the better man. 
 
 Why do we close our eyes 
 
 To the beauties of our daily life, 
 
 And see only the strife. 
 
 Truly, life is grand, 
 
 Whether we are called to a high position 
 
 Or a very lowly part. 
 
 Life is a garden of flowers 
 
 Or a path of thorns, 
 
 All according to our range of view. 
 
 He will surely fall, 
 Who has for his motto, 
 "Gain for self." 
 
 He who counts show, money, 
 
 Pomp and position, 
 
 Loses all the higher, finer things of life. 
 
 Work out? All things work out, 
 
 Either to our advantage or disadvantage 
 
 All according to the thought that conceived them. 
 
 Destiny is a strange thing 
 
 But I have witnessed so many destinies 
 
 7 
 
Worked out, I can but believe 
 That we each fall into line. 
 
 Self-centred people are blind 
 To the virtues, one and all. 
 
 Content, O my soul, never be content, 
 But rather always strive 
 To gain a higher step ! 
 
 Strike out, with thy firm, right arm, 
 
 Dare the heights. 
 
 Think not any task too large, 
 
 For remember there is always one 
 
 Who stands at the top. 
 
 Why not thou be that one? 
 
 The steady march goes on, it never pauses, 
 For a soul that drops to die. 
 The space is filled, and none are missed, 
 Ere once they die ! 
 
 Dear little fairies of the dale 
 
 How I wish I could wander forth 
 
 And hear your tales of travel over sea and land. 
 
 In the shell or flower, you can sail 
 
 Or be blown so free, all the wonders 
 
 And sights to see! My dear little 
 
 Elf-like fairies, of the land and sea. 
 
 8 
 
Some day I wonder, if to me 
 
 You will impart the secret of your finest art, 
 
 Of tinting all the fairy shells and dells, 
 
 And of making the golden nectar 
 
 That I love so well. Dear little fairies ! 
 
 Will you tell me just one secret 
 
 That I can keep locked up safely in my soul ? 
 
 Whisper it so gently, so that only thee and me 
 
 Shall know, 
 
 ; ! I "l 
 
 O my Queen of the fairy dell, 
 
 Thou in thy gossamer of finest gold 
 
 Reflecting all the tints of the sunbeams bold. 
 
 Thou Queen of a thousand fold 
 
 Of dear little fairies, all speeding on wings 
 
 Of silver and gold, to bring to thy feet 
 
 The knight-errants who are not quite enough 
 
 bold, 
 To offer their swords of grasses so tall, 
 And so sharp, they would pierce to the heart 
 Any enemy who sought to do thee a harm 
 Of no matter how small a part. 
 O thou fairy Queen of my heart. 
 
 Watch all your paths on the coming days 
 Of snow and cold, as you will meet 
 With many foes, in guise of friendship deep. 
 But watch you well, my friend, and you will 
 
 reap 
 The sowing of the gods, in gold. 
 
I shall praise the Lord in all his works 
 
 In every smallest part. 
 
 His glory I shall pour in every heart. 
 
 Praise the Lord, O my soul, 
 
 Sing out with joy for this gladsome morn. 
 
 For this beauteous day's fair dawn. 
 
 The earth in all sings out its praise of God. 
 
 The trees, the grass, the birds, 
 
 The waters even dance with joy. 
 
 So my soul, be not afraid 
 
 To sing forth all thy songs of joy. 
 
 In Dublin Town there is a maid 
 
 Of beauty I admire. 
 
 But Alack, alas ! I fear " me lass " 
 
 Has eyes for other crowns, 
 
 Mine being only the wild field flowers; 
 
 But true and honest in its name, 
 
 No pretense of fine setting. 
 
 But . . . 
 
 I long so, my darling 
 
 To take you from all care or thought unkind. 
 
 To put you in a castle up so high 
 
 Far beyond the reach of all 
 
 That would in any way impair 
 
 Your vision of your God. 
 
 My soul, rest upon thy God, 
 He will guide thee and thine. 
 
 lb 
 
Whate'er is for thee, 
 
 Has been written many, many years, 
 
 In the Book Divine. 
 
 Thou must walk the path laid out for thee 
 
 And remember, thou canst only see 
 
 With the depth of vision 
 
 Thy God has given to thee ! 
 
 I look upon the world with widening eyes. 
 
 This new world, with such vast 
 
 And progressing enterprise. 
 
 None of the Old World's calm and stately walk, 
 
 All here is rush, and hustle, and bustle, 
 
 From sunrise to sunrise; and so on through the 
 
 years 
 Till centuries are piled. 
 Then I hear some new worlds will arise, 
 And in them will go on, the never teasing en- 
 terprise. 
 
 The morning's light has brought thee 
 
 To a world of troubled skies. 
 
 They are but fleeting clouds 
 
 That in all lives will arise. 
 
 And soon thy skies will show a rosy light 
 
 Which shall reflect, and bring thee 
 
 To a haven of brightest light. 
 
 Dear little children, 
 I wonder what have they to say? 
 They probably think could they have their way, 
 n 
 
This world would be all candy, and sunshine, 
 
 and play. 
 With a few snow storms thrown in, so that they 
 On their sleighs could away, 
 And some snowballs, with which to play. 
 The ocean to them is a never ending joy, 
 And on its shores they forever could stay, 
 These dear little children who should have only 
 
 play. 
 
 I pray that the time will come 
 
 When we grown-ups shall realize 
 
 The very best way to train a child, 
 
 Is to live with them, work with them 
 
 And above all, to play with them, 
 
 So that we ourselves can remain a child. 
 
 We all go marching on to the tune that fits our 
 
 souls, 
 Be it sombre or gay; and sometimes we pause 
 
 to gather, 
 A few stray songs by the way. 
 Whether they add to our happiness, it is hard 
 
 to say. 
 These departures from our own, right way. 
 
 Thou must not burden thy pages of life, 
 
 With too much of thy friends' sorrow and 
 
 strife. 
 They will not thank thee, but rather turn and 
 
 leave thee 
 For something far more bright. 
 
 12 
 
All things will round out soon, 
 
 Into lines most harmonious for thee. 
 
 Thy soul will not atortured be 
 
 From the everlasting cry of duty, 
 
 Scon thou shalt be free, 
 
 To walk the paths which thy God desires. 
 
 Paths of brightness, O my soul for thee. 
 
 I know where a treasure is hidden 
 Away, so deep. Could I but bring it forth 
 For thee, My joy would be complete. 
 
 What is written in the book of fate 
 Cannot be changed, even though all the angels 
 Should strive and struggle, and change thy fate, 
 It would still be thy fate! 
 
 Bully for the boy with the green tie ! 
 
 Who is out to breakfast on time, 
 
 With his eyes so bright, his hair all combed, 
 
 And his heart full of rhyme, 
 
 Which he sings forth all the time! 
 
 My love, enough of sadness, 
 
 Now for tears of joy and gladness. 
 
 I will sing a song to thee 
 
 That will make thy heart rebound 
 
 And bring a smile of pleasure 
 
 At my madness ! 
 
 13 
 
Thou art worth more than all the jewels 
 That fill a thousand crowns. 
 Thy soul is pure, thy heart is true, 
 Thy mind is clear, and to thy God 
 Thou hast given His due ! 
 
 Love runs on, though the world stands still, 
 So remember, my dear, thou canst not always 
 Have thy will ! 
 
 Surround thyself with all the flowers 
 Thou canst — for in so doing 
 Thou dost bring angel visitants 
 From God, on holy wing. 
 
 The world shall better be for a talk with thee. 
 
 Thine own soul will expand, 
 
 And thou shalt dwell with me, and I with thee ! 
 
 Come, fairies, come, and tell me some tales 
 To lighten my tone of life. 
 It is now too sober and sombre of hue, 
 And my view is of nought but strife. 
 Come, fairies, come, and tell me 
 Of thy sweet bright life. Thy dance 
 And revel carry nought of strife. 
 Only the lighter side of life. 
 Thy tone is of purple, gold and silver hue, 
 Thy view is one of a constant changing delight 
 In the softly, silvery, sparkling stars 
 14 
 
And moon of light. 
 
 So come darling fairies, and tell me of thy life 
 In the night. Come, fairies, come, 
 And tell me some tales of thy heart's delight. 
 Come, fairies, come! 
 
 Thanksgiving Day is near, 
 
 I for one shall praise and be of cheer. 
 
 The lordly turkey shall adorn my board, 
 
 Which will be filled with the winter's choicest 
 
 hoard, 
 Of flowers, fruit, and all things gay, 
 The nuts and leaves of brownest hue 
 All interspersed with the yellow and scarlet tone 
 Will make a picture not for mine eyes alone, 
 But for my friends from far and wide, 
 Who with their grace and beauty my home 
 Shall adorn. We shall be thankful, merry and 
 
 gay, 
 Or perchance a little sad, just as our souls 
 Respond to the chord of the day; 
 And I pray that God will bless all the world 
 On this coming Thanksgiving Day. 
 
 I know a little boy who loves ice cream 
 His name I dare not dream to write 
 Upon this pad. If he should ever get enough 
 I would be happy, and so glad. 
 
 To the West, to the West ! 
 Always my mind travels, to the West. 
 15 
 
 
What has it in store for me? 
 There must be a strong compelling force 
 That I shall meet some day. 
 Will it meet me? Or shall I have to go 
 All the way. 
 
 Who knows what the day will bring? 
 A full share of sorrow and pain? 
 Or a day of unutterable things. 
 But if we rise with the dawn, 
 We shall catch the first sweet thoughts 
 Of the morn. 
 
 The morning light is breaking 
 
 Through the clouds of night, and slowly 
 
 Coming into view, are all the beauteous 
 
 Things of day. The faintest glowing 
 
 Of the sun's warm light 
 
 Shedding on all a rosy hue. 
 
 The woods are filled with birds' sweet song, 
 
 Showing their joy of the coming dawn. 
 
 We should all be up and doing, 
 
 And join with them in the gladsome song. 
 
 There is a song in the wild woods free, 
 That I fain would catch for thee. 
 'Tis a sweet, wild air of love and purity. 
 It caresses and soothes the tired, 
 And puts one's soul in harmony of love and 
 thought. 
 
 16 
 
It takes one to God's most infinite heart. 
 O that I could bring it to thee S 
 Thou love of my heart ! 
 
 My vigil I am keeping with the early dawn. 
 My Light of Love, come down! 
 And pour a blessing on my head, to make 
 A crown of glory, 
 
 That the world may read the sweetness 
 Of thy story ! 
 
 Crowns of glory are for thee, 
 If thou but stand out bold and free, 
 To strive forever for the right. 
 
 Trust! But look you well to the eyes so deep, 
 They mirror the soul that is within their keep. 
 
 The rain is beating on the window-pane, 
 With a steady strain 
 Of music soft and low. 
 It brings refreshing life 
 To all things growing up so brave, 
 In spite of heat, and drought 
 And lack of proper care. 
 So beat on thy melodious strain 
 O welcome rain ! 
 
 Well, my friends, I am once more 
 My old straight self. 
 
 17 
 
Free from all the dragging things 
 
 That have clung and pulled me down so far. 
 
 So far, I feared me once 
 
 I ne'er should rise, to see 
 
 The light of brighter skies. 
 
 But I am free to rise at will, 
 
 To soar far above their skies. 
 
 And now I shall proceed to rise, 
 
 And rise, and rise, 
 
 And by my suffering, I shall have gained 
 
 A firmer stand, a clearer light, 
 
 In which to view the land. 
 
 Fading, fading, are all our hopes 
 
 Of progress far and wide. Perchance 
 
 There is a lesson yet to learn. 
 
 Small and insignificant to us 
 
 But including all, a life. 
 
 So we must take what comes our way, 
 
 And never murmur, or repine, 
 
 And suddenly before us will stand, 
 
 What most we had in mind. 
 
 Dainty little raindrops, coming out of where? 
 How deliriously soft and gentle 
 Are thy pourings out of love, and light 
 To everywhere. 
 
 Everywhere thy grace doth fall, 
 Springs new life, in answer to thy call, 
 Dainty little raindrops, coming out of where? 
 18 
 
Travel, travel, O my, how we do constantly 
 travel ! 
 
 To lose ourselves amid new surroundings and 
 people. 
 
 But we always find the same little traits of char- 
 acter 
 
 In every part of earth and people. 
 
 O my soul, fly out to liberty and truth. 
 To love and life, beyond this narrow plane. 
 Beyond these sordid cares of daily life and 
 strife. 
 
 O that I had eyes to see 
 
 Beyond the clouds that now seem dense 
 
 And piled about with blackness so intense, 
 
 That not the faintest glimmer of color 
 
 Or of light, can penetrate my sight, 
 
 Or bring me into God's most glowing light. 
 
 Glory be to all on earth, 
 Glory be to them that praise the Lord! 
 By doing deeds of kindness and of love, 
 For all that walk within the paths of life and 
 light ! 
 
 The day is far on its declining way, 
 My heart has been sorely tried, 
 My friend whom I thought was all in all, 
 Is only a sham of clay. 
 19 
 
Content, ah my soul, 
 
 Do you know what content consists of? 
 
 Nothing but a pure, perfect heart 
 
 Gives content, and you find one 
 
 To every million people. 
 
 The Divine Spark, once lighted, 
 
 Is never quenched. 
 
 It may be smothered or hidden, 
 
 Far out of sight, 
 
 But at the slightest fanning 
 
 Of light and love, 
 
 It will burst into a glorious flame. 
 
 My heart flies out to thee, my love. 
 
 Wilt thou catch it on its wing 
 
 And tenderly, O so tenderly caress 
 
 And sing sweet themes of low, long melody, 
 
 So that it may return to me 
 
 With a life-long theme. 
 
 Time, time, is gliding swiftly by, 
 
 On the wings of the wild winds high. 
 
 And we who have planned the duties and cares 
 
 Are wondering to where does it fly. 
 
 The exquisite tones of the setting sun 
 As they blend so into harmonious clouds, 
 Draw the soul and the life to higher planes of 
 thought. 
 
 20 
 
To linger with the evening star, 
 
 As it shines out so clearly 
 
 Above the fast departing tones of light. 
 
 To watch the other stars come slowly into view, 
 
 In the now fast darkening sky of night. 
 
 The Sea is wild, and dashes with a fury 
 Bold and strong; and cuts upon the rocks 
 To dash itself in foam. 
 There stands a figure, lone, upon the sand, 
 Above the foam, and looks far out to sea, 
 The wind is sweeping o'er the waves 
 So wild and free. The sky is darkening 
 With a cold and steely hue, and all things 
 Portend a heavy storm. 
 But the figure stands so straight, and still 
 Looks out to sea. Nought but the storm within, 
 Does he hear or see — for the elements 
 Cannot war more strongly than his soul and he. 
 
 The storm breaks with terrific force, 
 But never a step takes he, 
 For still he gazes far out to sea. 
 The storm is spent, the forces are lost 
 But still stands he, as if carved of the rock. 
 The sky is clearing, the winds die away. 
 The waves are subsiding to a gentle roll; 
 But still stands he, and he fights with his soul, 
 Utterly lost to the world's mad roar, 
 His face still turned to the sea, 
 He battles on for victory. 
 21 
 
The night falls in shade, a single star 
 
 Appears in the dimming light. 
 
 A star sent forth from God 
 
 To help him in the fight — and at last, 
 
 That figure of stone is turned to life. 
 
 Come in the wild woods, Love, 
 
 And see the things of God. 
 
 They are still untamed, 
 
 And in a riotous game of happy heart, 
 
 They trill and sing their part. 
 
 So come, my love, 
 
 In the wild woods come, 
 
 And learn of thy God's heart of hearts. 
 
 I wish I might do something fine 
 And to the hearts of men incline 
 The loving wisdom of their God. 
 
 The wildness of the storm is fine and grand, 
 
 It draws me out to revel in its cleansing power, 
 
 Freeing the air of all its lurid growth. 
 
 The wild wind draws me to its lair. 
 
 O, how I love the voicing of its song 
 
 Among the trees, its swaying of the boughs, 
 
 These blessed wild wind storms of our. 
 
 Thoughts that fly and travel with us 
 Are messengers of love, and a strong power 
 For good — or evil ones, that beat us down 
 22 
 
To lower planes of thought 
 Equal only to their own. 
 
 Dainty thoughts that fly, 
 
 Poise your wings for an instant's rest 
 
 So that I can catch the breath 
 
 Of the theme. 
 
 » 
 
 Beautiful thoughts, they come to me 
 With their sweet refreshing balm. 
 They anoint my soul with their incense fine 
 And lead me, gently lead me, 
 To God's most heavenly clime. 
 
 Very gently o'er me steals 
 
 A mist to hide my view. 
 
 My soul floats out and on, 
 
 In an exquisite hue, 
 
 To God's most loving heart, so true. 
 
 Waiting, waiting, 
 Till the last long note 
 
 is drawn. 
 Then I will take thee home with me, 
 To dwell in perfect peace, 
 Of love and harmony. 
 
 Turning the pages of life 
 Is like reading an exciting novel. 
 If we look too far ahead, 
 23 
 
All the interest is lost. 
 
 We can have a glimmer of the sequel, 
 
 But the very uncertainty is a spur 
 
 Which keeps the hope alive, 
 
 Of a fair, high ending. 
 
 my Soul, what is in the heart, 
 That stirs to everlasting strife. 
 
 The subtle art of making all things seem 
 
 In darker light. That puts the touch 
 
 Of malice in the sweetest strain, 
 
 That turns all things to their own gain. 
 
 But it is all in vain. 
 
 It will sometime later turn them 
 
 To sorrow and to shame. 
 
 The evil shafts that they would send 
 
 To hurt and wound the friend, 
 
 Will turn and send their stinging darts 
 
 Straight home; home, where they will rest and 
 
 rend. 
 So I pray my soul, send out a cleansing thought 
 To free their heart! 
 
 'Tis cold and cheerless, and I find nought to do 
 But huddle close to self, after my vain attempt 
 To find the warmth of love so true. 
 My poor body is not of use, for tramping 
 In the woods, so fine and bright of hue, 
 
 1 can only take a very distant view. 
 My vision is narrowed down just now, 
 By the everlasting cry and hue of countless 
 
 24 
 
Household duties, every day so new — 
 Springing up so strongly, and so plainly into 
 
 view 
 And their cry will not be silenced, until 
 I have marshalled other forces to their due. 
 
 But soon my view will be extended 
 To a bright entrancing scene, of all the beauties 
 Of the season's scarlet sheen 
 Viewed from a mountain road, high above 
 The ocean's ever restless roll ; 
 Then my thoughts will wander ever o'er to thee 
 My faithless love ; for my love once given 
 Is as true as steel, as pure as gold, 
 And not as changeable as the winds of Heaven. 
 I will pray that happy thou shalt be, 
 In thy latest choice of loves, so free — 
 But my love will ever go to thee, 
 To bring a blessing from thy God, 
 Whom thou dost not see. 
 
 Whither, whither, little maiden 
 
 Are you going on so fast. 
 
 You have scarcely left the nursery fields 
 
 Yet the wisdom you display 
 
 To beguile your way 
 
 Would do justice to a foreign diplomat. 
 
 Compensation is the one redeeming thing of all 
 the earth. 
 
 25 
 
Roses are for you and me my friend. 
 All we have to do is to gather them. 
 Never think they grow too high, 
 Or too many thorns are nigh. 
 
 Soul of light and love, 
 I am in deep despair, 
 That thou shouldst have 
 A sorrow or a care. 
 
 Pure things are put forth clearly 
 Needing no veiling of fine language. 
 
 Colleen, colleen, come to me. 
 
 I love you. Do you love me? 
 
 If so, we could go, all the way in tune. 
 
 Music! What can express the harmonious 
 
 blending 
 Of the notes. 
 
 To a sensitive soul it carries an ether, 
 Wrapping itself about the body like a velvet 
 
 cloud, 
 Transporting one to such bliss of thought 
 As to almost suspend life. 
 
 The theme of love is the sweetest ever played 
 upon. 
 
 26 
 
I am so weary of the passing strife, 
 Till my soul is stung to action. 
 Then comes light ! 
 
 All bright thoughts 
 Have a stimulating effect 
 On the soul and body 
 So cultivate cheeriness. 
 
 No more weighing, clinging thoughts will affect 
 me 
 
 For I am free, free, free! 
 Free as the birds of the air, to go everywhere, 
 
 For no more have I to bear ! 
 Do you hear me in my triumphant song, 
 That I sing as I fly along? Free, free, free! 
 The shackles have gone, that bound me 
 With their heavy weights, and now I can rise, 
 rise, rise 
 
 And grasp the prize 
 That has been just beyond my reach. 
 I can teach God's glory and love, with the help 
 
 Of all the angels above. 
 For I am free, free, free, and to God only, 
 
 Shall my accounting be. 
 I who have lived in sorrow and care, 
 Bound and trodden under by those who dared. 
 With none to lift a hand, or by my side to 
 
 stand. 
 But I have fought my battles, and won, and 
 henceforth 
 
 27 
 
My life shall be even as the very sun. 
 
 And cast its brightness to everyone. 
 For I am free, free, free! 
 
 Faith is the dearest thing on earth. 
 All things are worked out by faith. 
 
 The day is warm, the air is misty 
 With the haze that portends of summer. 
 
 We do all our charities with a brass band, 
 Loud, and proclaiming our coming most indel- 
 icately. 
 
 One short life, and then 
 
 We gain the everlasting hills. 
 
 Inspirations, what are they? 
 
 Only the whisperings of God and love. 
 
 Trouble, what is trouble? 
 Nothing,' unless we so make it. 
 
 The best of everything 
 Lies in the soul receiving. 
 
 In this building, years from now, 
 Will stand a monument to thee, 
 28 
 
A tribute to fame and name, 
 And for a love of thy soul 
 Which will shine forth as gold, 
 And shall live for centuries, 
 Thy stories, the sweetest ever told. 
 
 Weaving in and out, weaving in and out, 
 So go all our thoughts from inside out. 
 
 Controlled by a power of love divine 
 
 Thy work shall far outshine, 
 
 Those of bolder, haughtier mien 
 
 For thou art a part of the Highest Unseen. 
 
 And thy sweetness and beauty 
 
 Shall stand forth clear, 
 
 Undimmed by a single tear. 
 
 Thou darling of the gods ! 
 
 Thou most blessed darling of the gods! 
 
 To-night, ah to-night, thy star is bright, 
 So watch it well ere the day's bright light 
 Hide it far from thy view. 
 It has much to tell thee, both tried and true. 
 It will weave bright tales and glistening lines 
 That will sparkle with the evening's dew, 
 So fresh and radiant will be the tales 
 It shall bring to you. 
 
 29 
 
I see a jumping- jack, 
 
 And the face of the man who is pulling the 
 
 string. 
 The jumping- jack is just a painted thing, 
 But the man who sits and pulls the string 
 And laughs at its antics fine, 
 Will some day dance to a tune of mine. 
 One he will not like or relish; 
 But I tell you I will make him dance 
 Even though the game savor of the hellish. 
 His soul is as black as sin, 
 And evil thoughts can dye; but the face 
 He presents to the world at large 
 Is smooth, and suave of manner is he, 
 This devil in human form, who pulls the string 
 To his jackanapes three. Oh how he laughs 
 When they cannot see, 
 This devil of devils is he! 
 
 Nay, my lady, just a very simple line 
 For with thee to rhyme. 
 I would laughter to thine eyes to bring, 
 For they are ever occupied with the serious 
 Sort of thing. I love to see thy face so bright 
 And Oh, to hear thee laugh outright; 
 For in thy heart thou art a merry little sinner, 
 But alas, thy laughter and light, 
 Have been crushed and put far out of sight. 
 But now, my lady, let me whisper it 
 Very gently. Thou art mine affair, 
 And before I have finished my work with thee, 
 Thou shalt very merry and happy be. 
 30 
 
When the clock strikes four, no more, 
 There will be a mighty rumbling in the land. 
 Then will come a quivering and a settling 
 Down, down will go the earth into space most 
 deep. 
 
 Weary, weary, is my heart, 
 And I am so tired in every part. 
 Life holds nothing bright or gay, 
 Only sorrow walks my way. 
 
 my God, what have I done? 
 
 That my life should be not just a little gay. 
 The clouds hang heavy, and Oh, so gray. 
 My soul is chilled and numbed. 
 
 1 see no ray of sunshine stealing O'er my way. 
 Oh for life to be just a little gay, 
 
 And not this everlasting gray, 
 
 Which palls upon my sight, and almost causes 
 
 My soul to take its flight, 
 
 To where I know life will be one bright, blue 
 
 day, 
 Where the sun doth ever shine 
 And Joy will walk my way. 
 Amid bowers of roses I shall stay, 
 For there is not one tiny spark of gray 
 And it is everlasting day! 
 
 On a hillside far away, there stands a small 
 
 gray house, 
 And in it, with my head pillowed on a rock 
 Lies my body, mummified, so that it shall not rot. 
 31 
 
I, who reigned supreme. 
 
 I was not so much after all, it would seem. 
 
 For now I am no more than a vanished dream. 
 
 O Octavius, Octavius, thou darling of my heart. 
 
 Mine idol, in whom I thought the sun did rise! 
 
 And for me there was no sunset, 
 
 For thou didst completely fill mine eyes. 
 
 And so we wandered, hand in hand, 
 
 On our journey that led us beyond the skies. 
 
 The night is falling, a gentle hush is over all 
 
 the world, 
 When suddenly from the skies comes forth a 
 
 piercing shriek 
 As if a thousand winds would vie with each, to 
 
 gain 
 Some given point. When they have passed, all 
 
 things low 
 Will lie; for what could withstand the force of 
 
 the winds 
 When on such wings they do fly. 
 
 There is many a sad heart 
 In this gay world to-night. 
 Many a head droops low 
 That carries a golden crown, 
 Many a hand is clenched in anguish 
 And many falter as they go, 
 To attend the banquet, 
 Or to see the gayest show 
 32 
 
Of beauty, pomp and wit; 
 The wine will sparkle 
 And bubble as it flows, 
 But even it cannot drown their woes. 
 Ah me, the sorrows of which this world never 
 knows. 
 
 Out on the waves a tiny ripple will appear. 
 
 It will slowly spread and spread 
 
 Until with sudden violence there gushes forth 
 
 A stream, mountain high, 
 
 Which will- burst and break upon the shore 
 
 With a deadly roar. And when it sinks to rest 
 
 That shore will be no more ! 
 
 I have such a wild longing in my heart 
 I want to give you something, 
 And what it is I do not know. 
 There is around, both friend and foe, 
 Or else my words would flow. 
 So be thou content with this fair show, 
 And go to rest with thy heart aglow. 
 
 Be of cheer and hold thine own. 
 The days are coming when thou 
 Shalt not travel alone. 
 
 Fear not. His forces will not long hold sway. 
 But long enough to cause some misery on the 
 way. 
 
 33 
 
Thou hast cast his life aright. 
 He is a traitor when it comes to a fair fight. 
 And only the influences of his wife 
 Have so far kept it from coming to light. 
 She knows his weakness and his might, 
 And could tell a story that is not all bright. 
 
 A soul that now in torture lies 
 
 At sunrise will wing its way into the skies, 
 
 And thou shall weep, 
 
 Partly from joy that the soul is free, 
 
 And partly from sorrow that the end had to be, 
 
 Of a life so full of care, 
 
 Although thou didst not much in it share. 
 
 Ah me, the curtains of night are falling fast 
 
 I must haste me on my way, 
 
 If I would gain the summit of the mountain 
 
 I have to climb this day. 
 
 I must leave all tasks in order 
 
 Lest my weary footsteps stay, 
 
 Upon the mountain I shall have climbed this day. 
 
 What care you? 
 What care I? 
 What care we? 
 
 Do not fear. The harm that a few would send 
 
 to thee 
 Will return, a winged dart, that shall pierce 
 34 
 
To the very heart. Throw aside these leadening 
 
 thoughts, 
 Cast far away their mental life, 
 For they are not in the least a part of thee. 
 They belong to the strife; and of a soul, 
 What know they? Thou the higher laws must 
 
 obey. 
 And throw away all the thoughts they with thee 
 
 would sway. 
 This is from thy knight of the way, 
 He with the laurel wreath, and one of bay! 
 
 Would that I could make thy way more clear, 
 
 Would that I could guide thee far beyond 
 
 Thy present place of rest. 
 
 Would that I could place a crown upon thy head 
 
 And give thee thy share of a palace most fair 
 
 And which rightfully to thee dost belong. 
 
 For thou art in my line of life 
 
 And among my people thou shouldst dwell 
 
 In a home which thou wouldst love right well ; 
 
 But time will thy story tell. 
 
 A day's journey thou shalt go 
 To where? Dost thou know? 
 There thou shalt rest, so plan for thy home 
 And make it of the best. 
 
 Be sure and gather thy pleasures along the way. 
 Do not close thine eyes to the brightness of day. 
 Take time now, in the present of years 
 And have thou not so many fears, 
 35 
 
For thy future life's cares. 
 Go happy, gay and free, 
 And prosperity will walk along with thee, 
 For she likes not a doleful face, and a lagging 
 pace. 
 
 A fairy tale dost thou wish? 
 All the fairy tales I know, thou hast heard. 
 And somehow to-night I am dealing with facts, 
 Hard facts; so I fear thou must wait 
 Till the Mother of Fairies is at the gate ; 
 And when she doth knock and doth call, 
 Thou must run and answer her questions, one 
 and all. 
 
 I want to kneel and pray, 
 I want, with firm, strong hand 
 To draw the curtains far away, 
 That now from my sight withhold 
 The mighty secrets of the world. 
 
 Nay, my lady, I have not pierced 
 
 The inner sight, from whence cometh 
 
 Only God's light. Thou hast seen 
 
 Far deeper than many, who have lived 
 
 For centuries in the rays of light. 
 
 Thy soul has darted to the innermost shrine 
 
 And that is why thou hast brought all these minds 
 
 To thine. Thou dost not realize thy worth. 
 
 Thou art possessed of a body and soul 
 
 Too finely attuned for thy world. 
 
 36 
 
Hence thy sorrow and care, of which thou 
 Hast had more than thy share. 
 
 The meadow brook flows softly on, 
 
 Taking not much space, 
 
 Making not much name. 
 
 But ah, who can tell the beauty 
 
 Of the verdure it leaves upon its banks, 
 
 Or its future fame. 
 
 I feel so sad, my heart is buried deep, 
 Far from the sight of those who weep. 
 Why they weep it is hard to tell, 
 For I know they did not love me well 
 When I was in my earthly shell. 
 But such is life. We work and strive. 
 A little pleasure, a sorrow here and there. 
 One long, long sigh, and then we die. 
 To all that surrounds this life on earth, 
 And wing our way to our new birth. 
 
 Rushing forth to Heaven 
 
 Is a cry from a thousand souls. 
 
 They in fear and torture stay 
 
 That their part of the land will give away, 
 
 And be rushed with the tide 
 
 To where none can abide. 
 
 Thou hast been in the arms of thy God. 
 Thou hast been cradled, rocked and soothed. 
 37 
 
Thou hast been shown the paths 
 
 That lead on high. It only remains 
 
 For thee to walk them, till thou shalt die. 
 
 There is a garden of roses all nodding their 
 Dreamy, sleepy heads. Waiting to be gathered 
 For a pillow, on which thou canst rest thy head. 
 
 I would surround my love with violets 
 Of every shade and kind. 
 
 Oh my love is like unto a rushing stream 
 It goes so madly 
 
 It never heeds the rocks and stones 
 But gains new force to drive it on. 
 
 In my wanderings o'er the sea 
 
 Into other lands, 
 
 I am most impressed with thee. 
 
 Thou art so fair and sweet, 
 
 So divinely dear, 
 
 I fain would rest with thee. 
 
 Rise, my soul, and conquer all thy cares, 
 Let no sorrow dwell with thee. 
 Put forth all thy forces of sunshine bright 
 And God alone shall dwell with thee. 
 
 Dost thou wish a rhyme or a tale in verse 
 If the latter, then thou art 
 
 38 
 
Of my own mind, and I shall to thee unfold 
 
 The sweetest story ever told. 
 
 Love in a bower of roses sat, 
 
 And smiled on the world with an enticing turn 
 
 Of her head. They one and all hastened 
 
 To bend at her bower. 
 
 She threw them a charmed rose, 
 
 And bade them haste on their way, 
 
 For while the rose was blooming, love would 
 
 hold sway. 
 Some thought time would stay, so wandered 
 On their way. Others, sure of their rose 
 Held it carelessly, and it blew away. 
 While still others stopped to examine 
 So many works of art 
 That their rose drooped its head 
 And quite faded away. But a few flew on 
 To their goal, and laid the rose 
 All fresh with its morning dew, 
 Right on the hearts they knew were true. 
 
 To Mrs. Schwarz : — 
 
 A soul of power, but confined 
 In space untried. 
 But later will flow out 
 In this world's vast throng 
 And then will grasp 
 The truest sense of God. 
 And when you have said that, 
 You have said all. 
 
 39 
 
Thou, Dear Heart, must gird thine armor on, 
 Thy life must not be spent from the world apart ; 
 But mingle thou must, with others of thine art, 
 And by so doing thou wilt gain thy higher 
 Finer part. Thy last long step on the plane 
 That is to be for thee, thy reign! 
 
 Ah me ! My soul will rise indeed in might, 
 
 To fight the coming strife of death 
 
 That hovers near, with all my hopes so dear. 
 
 It shall not strike! I have spoken 
 
 And intend to fight. 
 
 I shall win the victory, I know, 
 
 Before the fight begins. 
 
 So enter with the victor's heart, 
 
 Brave, true and strong, until the end. 
 
 Coming, coming, my Love ! 
 
 Wait just a little longer, 
 
 I have one more rose to put in place, 
 
 And then I shall be free to wander. 
 
 Wander with thee at thy will, 
 
 Into our life of love. 
 
 We shall travel the land and the ocean wide, 
 
 To find some spot to live our life 
 
 Of love, my love of life! 
 
 So wait just a little longer, 
 
 My love, my life! 
 
 I love to wander by the river's bank 
 To gather of the glorious woods. 
 40 
 
The beauties tended so lovingly 
 
 By the band of flower fairies. 
 
 And as I pluck, to listen 
 
 The dainty tales they do unfold. 
 
 Each containing a spirit that is of gold, 
 
 And which later shall be told. 
 
 Dear fairies, I wonder where you are, of late? 
 You seem so entirely to have deserted me to my 
 
 fate. 
 Not a whisper do I hear, not a song 
 
 To greet my waiting ear. Dear fairies ! 
 Do come, and bring along some cheer. 
 
 Always thou dost bring 
 Just what thy thoughts do wing 
 By their height or depth, 
 So thy song must sing. 
 
 Write thee of the world so wide, 
 Sing thee of the glorious sun tide, 
 And thy name shall forever abide. 
 
 In the twilight, just before the night comes 
 deepening on, * 
 
 Watch thee well what thou dost see. 
 
 Flitting shadows from the great Unknown, then 
 come forth 
 
 To their own, bringing tales of beauty, wonder, 
 
 4* 
 
And giving pictures of exquisite tone, which 
 
 later 
 Are put forth to the world, as the receiver's 
 
 own. 
 
 I have the tower room, and here I lie, 
 My body racked with pain, but my soul 
 Flying out to greet the glorious rising sun, 
 In all its immeasurableness — and ah me ! 
 Who having watched the exquisite tones 
 Of the ever changing beauty, has desired 
 A small painting of the magnificence 
 Which cannot be confined. 
 
 Trust thou on. Hold thy head high, 
 And never, never, give place 
 To the poisoned shafts that fly. 
 
 Like a silver stream 
 Flows my thought to thee. 
 
 My love why dost thou stay? 
 Why not walk my way? My soul 
 Is with thee as in days of old, 
 My heart beats in tune with thine. 
 Thine eyes would be to me as a draught 
 Of wine. The clasp of thine arms 
 Ah me, what evil thoughts have wrought. 
 Thy soul is torn and distraught. 
 Thou dost not know if I be aught but evil, 
 42 
 
Soft and sly. Thou dost not know 
 
 That my soul with God doth fly. 
 
 And from his fountains my thoughts do flow. 
 
 Oh, my love, why dost thou not know? 
 
 Come, bend thine ear, and I will whisper 
 
 Words of cheer; words that thou 
 
 Wouldst gladly hear. 
 
 Draw my soul to thine and thou shalt hear 
 
 Strange glad tidings from thy God Divine. 
 
 Oh, my love, come to me, for thou art mine. 
 
 Thou art a fair, brave soul, 
 Thou art a dear, brave soul, 
 And thy bravery shall be rewarded 
 By a beautiful rounding of the whole. 
 
 One night I dreamed such strange wild schemes 
 They drew the whole world in. 
 A vast change I would inaugurate, if I 
 Could gain my strength, and begin the fight 
 Against sin, of evil living, wide extortion. 
 The grinding down of women in the different 
 
 spheres 
 Of labor. I shall yet realize my dream, 
 And see all these crimes slowly losing ground, 
 And a new high grade of life in general. 
 
 My theme is one of love for all mankind, 
 My scheme involves the whole world o'er 
 And just a quiet loving thought I shall pour 
 Into space, until all be filled with God's love 
 43 
 
And grace; and room, there shall be no more 
 For sin to deface! 
 
 A message of cheer for thy heart so dear, 
 Thou wilt soon come to light, 
 Thy name shall stand out bright, 
 And love from every soul will flow to thee, 
 Engulfing thy life to the exclusion of all sorrow 
 And strife. 
 
 I dance, and in a whirl of delight 
 
 My head is swayed. My heart doth beat 
 
 So that I am afraid. 
 
 For he, my lover of might, 
 
 Is coming to me this night. 
 
 In his arms I shall lie. 
 
 In his eyes, O what worlds I shall see ! 
 
 This lover of mine, from the old world is he. 
 
 In his love I shall rest contented all my days. 
 
 Do you wonder that I dance and my head sways, 
 
 And that my heart beats all ways ? 
 
 Criss-cross, criss-cross ! 
 O how our interests fine, 
 Do everlastingly entwine ! 
 
 There will be a widening of thy sight 
 
 And a broadening of thy soul ; 
 And thou shalt take the final step 
 
 That will lead thee to thy goal. 
 44 
 
I stand at the gate of a garden of old. 
 Dare I enter its sleepy, dreamy fold. 
 Quaint, delicate perfumes greet my wearied 
 
 sense. 
 There would be rest and peace. 
 There the noise of battle would cease. 
 Love and care would me surround. 
 Still I stand, mine eyes lingering 
 On the busy world, which at last doth draw 
 
 me 
 From the garden of peace and content. 
 
 Time, who can measure time? 
 
 The work of centuries is lost in a day. 
 
 And what is a day or a night 
 
 But a century to some, 
 
 Who live their lives 
 
 With the beat of a drum? 
 
 Open thine eyes and cease to measure 
 
 All things ! 'Tis a waste of what thou 
 
 Dost call time. O why must thou be so blind? 
 
 Many are the flights thy soul shall take 
 
 Into realms of light, so dazzling in their purity, 
 
 So gorgeous in their sheen, so exquisite in their 
 
 theme, 
 That scarce to thy earthly home will return thy 
 
 soul 
 
 From its most ethereal dream. 
 
 45 
 
Daffodils, daffodils, in all thy yellow glory, 
 Nodding thy heads each with a dear fairy story, 
 Which thou dost give to the air, 
 And of such sweetness that few can compare. 
 Thou dear daffodils, from where? 
 
 A dove of purest white will shortly whirl 
 Into thy sight. Offer it shelter and care, 
 And in the morning's light so bright 
 Thou shalt find thy God hath dwelt with thee 
 
 O'er night! 
 
 On the wings of the wind, that shall give 
 To the trees, their coat of gold and brown, 
 With some dashes of scarlet thrown in, and 
 
 around 
 Will come many thoughts new and high 
 That will hold a mad revel, until thou 
 Dost put them forth in a song, 
 So rhythmatic and clear, that the world 
 To it shall move along. 
 
 There is a freedom of thought that carries to 
 
 thee 
 And will shortly take thee far o'er the sea, 
 To rest in a clime so divine, that almost 
 Thou shalt think the angels thou dost see. 
 The air so soft and mellow, 
 The flowers so gloriously gay; 
 That thy soul shall dance and flutter 
 And like a bird thou shalt sing forth thy lays. 
 
 4 6' 
 
A ray of sunshine, warm and bright — 
 
 Is stealing near thy sight. 
 
 Watch thee well, for in its light 
 
 Thou canst grasp many high ethereal things 
 
 That are carried on the sunbeam's wings. 
 
 There was a moonbeam, soft and light, 
 That stole away from the Garden of Night. 
 In the morning's light, so fair and bright, 
 A maiden gathered a rose, that had bloomed 
 O'er night. In the heart of the rose a dewdrop 
 
 lay 
 Which was the moonbeam that had stolen away. 
 It entered the soul of the maiden so fair, 
 As she kissed the rose just fresh from God's 
 
 pure air. 
 And there the moonbeam nestled, so warm and 
 
 bright, 
 To illumine the soul of the maiden, this moon- 
 beam 
 That had stolen from the Garden of Night. 
 
 Aye, prosperity shall walk with thee, 
 And into thy life shall enter three new forces 
 Fine and grand, from the highest of the land, 
 That shall form with thee a band, 
 To spread new glories which for eternity shall 
 stand. 
 
 47 
 
Great minds deal in simple facts 
 Few words, and greater deeds, 
 Is what the world at present lacks. 
 
 The mists are slowly lifting, 
 
 The sun will soon shine clear, 
 
 And thou shalt think thy life 
 
 Is one of goodly cheer. 
 
 Thy days of drear unchanging scenes 
 
 Are past and gone — 
 
 And with October's glowing tones 
 
 Thy new era will have begun. 
 
 Peace is there to be. 
 Love thou shalt see 
 Showered by all 
 Who read of thee! 
 
 Fine and high thy soul shall be, 
 
 Loved by all the world, 
 
 What more could I ask for thee? 
 
 Courage, thou dear soul, courage ! 
 
 Dearest hope that I now hold high, 
 
 When the world is just beginning to fly. 
 
 May my hopes with the highest vie, 
 
 And not encounter a storm, 
 
 Naught but a cloudless sky, so that my hopes 
 
 Shall be forever held on high. 
 
 4 8 
 
I am always bright, thanks to my forces 
 
 Of the starry night. They carry me in dreams 
 
 To sights, that create for me days of delight. 
 
 The glimmering lights that spring to life 
 As the day departs on its nightward way, 
 Are ever to me a joy, with which my soul to 
 
 sway. 
 It leaps with the lights, 
 Against the dead black curtain of night, 
 And I am in a dream of delight. 
 
 Consider well each step 
 
 Then make no backward turns. 
 
 My days are dreams of love, 
 My nights I spend Above, 
 Flitting from scene to scene. 
 Ah me, the beauties of which 
 .Mine eyes can scarce glean. 
 So my life flows on 
 To its exquisite theme. 
 
 Thy scheme of life will round out into perfect 
 
 control 
 Of all the forces that for thy good have been 
 
 told. 
 
 49 
 
Night doth bring to us, and we to them 
 
 Many strange, fantastic sights. 
 
 Many warnings if heeded aright 
 
 Are crooned to us in the night. 
 
 Many high, wide thoughts fly forth 
 
 To dwell in minds that love them well, 
 
 There to be nurtured, and worked 
 
 Into rhythmatic song or scientific form, 
 
 Or perchance a play, 
 
 With which for others to beguile a day, 
 
 A book of fine intent, all as to which way 
 
 The mind is bent. Such as these 
 
 Come from the thoughts sent forth at night 
 
 To give to the world a flood of light. 
 
 Pray, pray unceasing, that the world 
 Will be spared the terrible calamities 
 That hover in the air. 
 A strong force of good high thoughts 
 Build a wall to the protection of all. 
 
 Peace, doth to us flow 
 
 And on the wings of the wind it doth go. 
 
 And we are left low with our sorrow and care, 
 
 All because the winds doth blow, 
 
 And bring us vibrations from souls 
 
 They their God doth not know. 
 
 My heart is leaping with the thought 
 That to me will come my love; 
 With the breaking of the spring-tide, 
 5o 
 
I shall with him abide. 
 
 Then rest and peace my soul shall know, 
 
 And my thoughts to God o'erflow, 
 
 With a power and a rhythm that the 
 
 World shall know MY God, MY Heaven, 
 
 And from whence cometh this harmonious flow. 
 
 Adrift on the ocean of life, 
 
 Swayed with the winds that blow from every 
 
 source 
 Is a soul that now seeks thee for guidance, 
 As to the path he shall tread. 
 Give of thy best, and turn the soul, 
 So that with God it finally shall rest. 
 
 Birds all of a quiver; darting here and there, 
 
 Building nests for winter, 
 
 Or planning to find a softer air, 
 
 In which to sing and wing their life away. 
 
 Come my Love, and pray with me, 
 
 That the panic I see will averted be, 
 
 And the world move on to an added strain 
 
 Of prosperity. Confine for a time 
 
 The efforts of one, not calculated 
 
 To make the world hum with joyous song. 
 
 Suppress the desire to crush the Trusts, 
 
 For in so doing the world at large 
 
 Will want crusts. So my love, come ; 
 
 Add thy prayers, and who knows the results. 
 
 51 
 
The sun is shining brightly, 
 
 And life to me holds all things dear. 
 
 Then comes the faintest cloud 
 
 Across my horizon so clear, 
 
 A chill enwraps my soul, 
 
 A fear comes with sickening force 
 
 And Lo, I am so drear. 
 
 I who just a short time since 
 
 Was a thing of so much cheer. 
 
 Roundelay, roundelay, sing a song fondly, 
 
 With thy heart and soul. 
 
 Then thy skies shall be blue, 
 
 Thy course true, 
 
 And thou shalt have nothing to rue. 
 
 Merrily, merrily rings the song, 
 Gaily, gaily they dance along, 
 These lassies and lads to whom as yet 
 Life is only a song, 
 
 And one day and night long. 
 
 Night, night, night! When all the world 
 
 Is bathed in a dimming light. 
 
 Each star comes forth to shed its rays so bright. 
 
 All is peace and quiet in the workaday life, 
 
 And the night-workers are mostly hidden from 
 
 sight. 
 Ah me, what a calm comes over my soul. 
 My thoughts can fly, and with the stars they do 
 
 vie, 
 
 52 
 
So that when day doth appear, they still fly, 
 And with the sun doth rise, and rise, 
 Until they fill my entire skies, with lights 
 Of blue and gold, and rose covered sonnets un- 
 told, 
 Till again it is night, and I fly to the starlight, 
 And the calmer things of life. 
 
 Night, night, night! 
 
 The soft silvery light that I see at night 
 
 Transports my soul to a dream of delight. 
 
 I fly, and "in a dance do sway, 
 
 On the silvery clouds of night. 
 
 I soar and float in an ethereal, exquisite air, 
 
 That leads to where? I dare not picture 
 
 The bliss. It is far too elusive 
 
 For the world to behold. Even could I write 
 
 Of God's glory, that has never been told. 
 
 I am so tired, I would be pillowed on thy breast. 
 O God, come and take me to my everlasting rest. 
 
 All this strife, it wears my soul. 
 
 All these heavy, sordid thoughts 
 
 Break thy harmony divine, and cast me down, 
 
 Far down, so that I do but repine. 
 
 Such a merry, whistling lad, 
 Along a lane goeth he, 
 With his stick on his shoulder, 
 53 
 
His pack on his back, 
 And not a thought of trouble has he. 
 But just ahead in the lane a foe I see. 
 Can I gain my lad in time, 
 And whisper a word to beware? 
 For the snare looks fair 
 And has been set with care, 
 By one of far greater wisdom than he, 
 My merry whistling lad of the lea. 
 I pray if I do not reach him in time 
 That his eyes may see and know the Depth 
 His fall would be. O my merry whistling lad, 
 Thou MUST see, by the strength of my love 
 for thee. 
 
 God stands ever ready to lead us 
 To the highest point, from whence we could see 
 Most amazing sights. But alas, our souls 
 Always start and draw back. 
 Low do we lie, content with our narrow vision, 
 Fear bids us not to fly, and so, alas, we die. 
 Scarcely having known our God, 
 Or to what ecstatic heights he would have 
 helped us fly. 
 
 Between us and the next sphere 
 
 Lies a very narrow path. 
 
 Some dream along its way. Others rush 
 
 With fevered haste, and others walk with stately 
 
 grace, 
 Wondering why some assume so much haste. 
 54 
 
Then come the plodders, with heads bent low, 
 And heavy burdens on their backs, 
 Watching eagerly the path, for fear of a mis- 
 step, 
 They know not where they would go. 
 Still others crawling the narrow path, 
 Fear to rise, even to a stooping posture, 
 And a few fly over the heads of all, 
 And arrive at the gates before the morning call. 
 
 Many are the tides that shall flow 
 
 Into thy life; but none so well for thy soul 
 
 As one now far away, whose love doth sway 
 
 To thy soul, with an ever increasing strength 
 
 Of purity and goodness. 
 
 The time is short to the day, when thy life 
 
 He shall sway, and in his arms thou shalt stay. 
 
 My love flows on as though in a shaded glen, 
 
 Contentment I know for a time. 
 
 And then, ah then the glen doth end, 
 
 And out into the broad fields I shall go. 
 
 The glare of the sun, the force of the winds, 
 
 And the moon of mellow light, shall play 
 
 Upon my soul, not always to its delight ; 
 
 But such is my fate, and who am I 
 
 That to God should decry. Nay, rather play I 
 
 Sweet notes on the strings of my fate. 
 
 When I think of all the blessings that are show- 
 ered 
 
 55 
 
From Above, my heart gives one great throb, 
 And a silent prayer of thankfulness doth leave 
 
 my lips, 
 That I am even permitted to dwell within their 
 
 midst. 
 
 Thy paths shall soon reach to a far distant 
 
 clime, 
 Where thou shalt dwell in peace for a time. 
 Then back to thy labors thou must take thy 
 
 way. 
 
 A glorious rose stands nodding its head, 
 
 To thee it will bear a tale from one 
 
 Whom the world counts dead. His soul is so 
 
 high, 
 That not many can with it vie. 
 He will give thee ere long, a bright sunny song, 
 Which in words thou shalt rhyme, 
 And send forth to the world as from the olden 
 
 time. 
 
 Alack and alas, our plans are things of the past. 
 New ways we must go; new waters we must 
 
 span, 
 All because our plans have gone to other lands, 
 Where with them we cannot fly, 
 To the land of the things gone by. 
 
 56 
 
Joy, Joy, Joy is in the air. It is everywhere. 
 
 I hear it whispered, O so softly. 
 
 I hear it blazoned from out the sky, 
 
 Joy, Joy, Joy J 
 
 Mellow, mellow grows the time, 
 
 Soon the fields will revel with the corn 
 
 And grapes for wine. 
 
 And all the earth be bathed in a hazy mist. 
 
 Then for thee is thy most glorious time, 
 
 Thy October of corn and wine. 
 
 There stands at thy gate of late, 
 
 A dainty messenger, who brings to thee wild 
 
 roses 
 Gathered in the early morn. 
 Thou hast not answered to her call, 
 And alas the roses have faded, one and all. 
 Still she comes, as fair and sweet 
 Her roses with which thee to greet. 
 Thou must watch at dawn, 
 And hold thy dainty messenger with words of 
 
 love, 
 And praise for the roses she has brought. 
 And the fairies they contain, 
 Each with a tale of love, for thine art and name. 
 
 Thou canst fashion thy thoughts on whatever 
 
 plan 
 Thou dost desire, but ultimately only to God 
 
 57 
 
Wilt thou aspire. In Him all thy hopes will re- 
 alize, 
 And He alone can guide thee to the everlasting 
 
 skies. 
 There thou shalt dwell for time unending, 
 There thy heart will murmur no more, 
 But rest contented ; and. thy soul flow out. 
 To God ever more. 
 
 that I could fly to where thou dost lie 
 Amid a wood of deepest green 
 
 In peace, and with thy soul attuned to God. 
 So that from him thy thoughts do flow, 
 And with each other vie, to gain a ground 
 Upon which for thee to build a name 
 That shall stand out bold and strong, 
 For all good, and never for a wrong. 
 
 There stands before my sight a figure clothed 
 in white. 
 
 1 am awake to this world's charms so it can- 
 
 not be 
 A dream figure that I see, standing there so 
 
 bold and free. 
 Free, aye free! from the chains that bound 
 
 to vice and sin, 
 So that the soul to God could enter in. 
 He bears a message that I shall give, nay, many 
 
 messages, 
 But the first shall live with the world as long as 
 
 time extends. 
 
 58 
 
My soul is freed from its body, 
 
 Weighted down with sin, and straight it comes 
 
 To thee, with a message of purity from within. 
 
 Thy Heaven is THE Heaven, thy light is God's 
 light, 
 
 And thy soul doth dwell forever in his sight. 
 
 Thy visions are pure and always aright. 
 
 Thy heart is gold, and thou shouldst not live 
 
 In the strife of a workaday life. 
 
 But such is thy fate, so work and bring forth 
 thy songs 
 
 All the day long. They carry a message from 
 God 
 
 To the heart, and remember that God hath or- 
 dained thy part. 
 
 From the glorious East, where the Sun doth rise 
 
 Will come strange tales from men. 
 
 Prophets they will claim to be, of far greater 
 
 force 
 Than thy God, whom thou dost see. 
 They will rest no measure to bring thy soul to 
 
 them; 
 But thou hast thy God, and to him thou shalt 
 
 cling, 
 For thy soul cannot be tempted by the dazzling 
 
 sights 
 They will bring to thee, the Mystic Three. 
 
 I have quaffed deep of my cup, with its bitter 
 dregs, 
 
 59 
 
But my skies are blue, my heart ever true, 
 And I am still looking for some good to do. 
 
 Precious love, I have thy name 
 Engraven on my heart. 
 It lives my life each day, 
 And from it I shall never part. 
 
 Dost thou catch the thoughts my soul sends to 
 
 thee? 
 They go on the wings of a song that thy heart 
 May carry along, to aid thee in thy work of 
 
 mercy 
 
 All the day and night long. 
 
 A monster frog sat one day, on the edge of a 
 
 pond, 
 He croaked and croaked his songs, 
 But no one heeded his lay, till some boys came in 
 
 sight, 
 And then, oh my, he jumped in the pond, and 
 
 hid. 
 But the boys, they watched for their prey, 
 Till the close of day, for he was a frog of size 
 And they longed to possess him as a prize, 
 And not for his lays. If they could have known 
 That he was a king in disguise, a ruler of lands, 
 Oh my, but their eyes would have popped 
 In surprise! A bad, wicked witch had laid her 
 
 magic wand 
 
 60 
 
On him one day at dawn, and he had waked a 
 
 frog, 
 And to a life by the pond, in a land far away. 
 His agony of mind I can't describe, for it still 
 
 held sway. 
 He croaked, and shrieked, and jumped around, 
 But alas no plan could he think, would bring 
 
 him back 
 To this throne and crown. And his frog-like 
 
 fear 
 Of the human soul, made him think, and think, 
 As he crouched in his watery bed, he heard 
 
 a voice quite clear. 
 " I think we'll catch him if we stay right here." 
 So he quietly moved along, not to ripple the 
 
 waters 
 By even a breath. At last by much patience 
 
 he gained a spot 
 Where he knew he'd be safe till dark. 
 He prayed to the witch to restore him his life 
 
 as a man. 
 He'd grant any wish she might demand; but 
 
 " No " she cried, 
 " You killed my son, and now I am having my 
 
 fun. 
 You'll be caught and killed some day 
 For your hind legs are fat and firm. Ho, ho! 
 I am having my fun! They are searching all 
 
 through 
 Your kingdom for the missing one. 
 But they'll never find you, and your next of kin 
 
 will reign; 
 
 61 
 
And he is one that my people love, for he deals 
 In the blackest of arts, that of reading the 
 
 hearts. 
 His reign will bring wealth and fame to the peo- 
 ple I love, 
 So you stay by the pond till your life is run. 
 But there's one thing I will tell you : if you 
 
 pluck a rose 
 Just fresh with dew, and lay it under yonder 
 
 yew, 
 A miracle will happen, what, I shall not tell 
 
 to you; 
 But I must away to watch my brew, 
 For I have some fine plans awaiting thy suc- 
 cessor's view. 
 So bye-bye, froggy dear, I'll come again to 
 
 you."' 
 The frog he threw himself about, and swore he'd 
 
 find a rose 
 To lay under yonder yew. Nothing but trees 
 
 his eyes did greet 
 And he dared not go far from the pond. Late 
 
 that night 
 He heard a sound that made him jump and turn 
 
 around 
 And hide himself back of a great big mound of 
 
 rock and moss. 
 But he watched with eager eyes, for the woods 
 
 were peopled 
 With little folks, all airy and fairy like dolls. 
 One stood apart, and only looked on at the dance 
 
 and play. 
 
 62 
 
Surely she moved close to the pond, and seemed 
 
 to be looking 
 For something on the ground. Her face was 
 
 clouded 
 As she raised her head, and listened for a sound 
 
 from above. 
 Then all at once she spied the frog, who had 
 
 moved 
 Out into sight, in his wonder, and had lost some 
 
 of his fright. 
 She moved very slowly and gave an order to 
 
 her band, 
 And instantly they saluted and vanished from 
 
 the land. 
 Then spoke the fairy queen: "I to rescue thee 
 
 have come. 
 At the first streak of dawn, I will guide thee to 
 
 a rose 
 All fresh with dew; one that thou canst gather 
 To lay under yonder yew. Thou must watch 
 
 very carefully 
 And keep close to me, else the witch might ga- 
 ther thee 
 In her net, and then, where wouldst thou be? 
 She dare not kill thee as yet, and I pray I shall 
 
 be able 
 To set thee free." Very soon the first streak of 
 
 light 
 Broke through the night, and the fairy queen 
 
 started off 
 With the frog close by. Her haste was great, 
 
 63 
 
For she must be away, and out of sight, before 
 
 the light 
 Grew bright. Soon they came to a garden all 
 
 filled 
 With roses and flowers; and the fairy queen 
 
 bade the frog 
 Pluck one, and quickly get out of sight. 
 It was a hard, hard task, for the rose was high, 
 The stem was tough, and thorns were plentiful 
 
 enough. 
 But after many vain efforts, the frog succeeded 
 In plucking the rose, and the fairy queen danced 
 
 with delight. 
 " Now for the yew tree, my froggy, and then 
 
 you will know 
 Who I am, aright." It was a hard, toilsome 
 
 journey 
 To gain the yew tree without breaking the rose. 
 And the thorns, oh, how they pricked ! 
 But the fairy queen ever urged him on, for the 
 
 time 
 When the charm would be gone, was almost 
 
 along. 
 At last he reached the tree, and laid the rose 
 
 down 
 With a few drops of dew, still glistening on its 
 
 crown. 
 Instantly the fairy assumed a larger size, 
 And there stood a maiden fair and full of grace, 
 Who laid her hand on the frog's tired head, 
 
 and lo ! 
 He was again a man, who could walk and talk. 
 
 6 4 
 
" Oh my dear Sire," the maiden said, " long 
 
 years have I waited 
 For thee, to come and release my spell. 
 And thou hast accomplished it right well. I 
 
 was told 
 By a whispering spirit to look on the ground, 
 And I should find a frog that would break the 
 
 spell 
 That a bad old witch had drawn o'er me. Now 
 
 I am grateful 
 For thou wouldst never have come to my part 
 
 of the world 
 Had all things gone well." The king had de- 
 clared 
 His love for the maiden fair, and a desire to 
 
 take her home ; 
 But then he bethought how his cousin reigned 
 
 in his stead; 
 And how a bitter fight was the only thing 
 That would bring his crown to his head. Why 
 
 not dwell 
 With the maid in this country so fine, 
 Where there were no kings to fight for each 
 
 others' crowns 
 And cares? The maiden fair belonged to the 
 
 Duchess of Clare 
 But she had so many children, and the time had 
 
 been so long, 
 She had quite given up in despair ; and no longer 
 
 expected 
 To see her child who had disappeared so mys- 
 teriously. 
 
 65 
 
One day walking in the woods with her nurse, 
 Who had turned to gather a flower, the child 
 
 had vanished 
 As though in air. The nurse called and searched 
 Far o'er the woods, not daring to return with a 
 
 tale so wild. 
 At last it grew dusk, and in fear she ran away, 
 And hid for many a day. They found her al- 
 most starved 
 And took her home to die. She told her tale, 
 But they shook their heads, and wondered. 
 They searched the country o'er but no trace of 
 
 the child 
 Did they find, for the witch had turned her to 
 
 the fairy queen 
 In a land far away. At night she with her band 
 Roamed the woods, and longed to go to her 
 
 mother — 
 But alas, the Duchess could not see her, for her 
 
 eyes 
 Were only on the worldly side of life, and 
 
 " fairies," 
 She would have laughed! And put the thought 
 
 away 
 With a toss of her head, and " Oh my, what 
 
 has come over me to-day ? " 
 And thus would have ended her flight to the 
 
 fairy realms 
 Of light. But now that the fairy queen was a 
 
 maid all grown, 
 Her right might be questioned, and how should 
 
 she explain 
 
 66 
 
The flight of years? No, they both decided to 
 
 start anew, 
 Just plain everyday people like me and you. 
 So hand in hand their journey began; and in 
 
 another tale, 
 And at another time, I shall to their life incline. 
 
 Lilies are so pure and sweet! 
 They bring such visions of a land 
 
 Of song, of purity, and peace ! 
 
 O dear one, rest your head 
 
 Upon my breast, 
 Pouring all your troubles 
 
 Into space ! 
 
 Swinging, swinging, 
 
 All the day away, 
 
 O how happy I was then ! 
 
 Will you come with me, my love? 
 
 I will take you to a hidden spot I know, 
 
 O so fair, so restful, 
 
 And so full of promises of love! 
 
 Time, time! O how time flies, 
 When we are not waiting. 
 
 6 7 
 
Go forth, my soul, to sing sweet songs 
 
 For all the souls who are lifting their eyes to 
 
 God. 
 Go forth with haste, to greet them on their way, 
 
 To everlasting joy. 
 
 Later? Why always later? Why not now? 
 
 I watched, and watched in vain 
 
 For some sign to show 
 
 That men would heed the voice of God. 
 
 The still, small voice 
 
 So sweetly full of promise 
 
 Of a life of eternal bliss. 
 
 If they would only sow 
 
 The smallest seed of good and love 
 
 Along the path they trod. 
 
 Arise, my star of bliss 
 And shine so brightly, 
 That you will hide 
 
 All other stars! 
 
 Mrs. Barlow, 
 
 Oh, you darling soul, 
 
 You are just the sweetest thing. 
 
 Such an inspiration 
 
 In your very dreams ! 
 
 68 
 
My love is wide, and broad, 
 
 And O, so deep ! 
 And wells up into everlasting springs. 
 
 Patter, patter, comes the rain, 
 
 Haste thou thy steps ! 
 
 Or the storm will catch thee, 
 
 In thy Sunday best! 
 
 Sunshine, sunshine everywhere! 
 That is, when God smiles, 
 
 On all the earth! 
 
 Words are nothing. 
 
 It is the thought that inspires. 
 
 Thou hast done thy work so well 
 That the soul has reached its God 
 O rejoice, my heart's desire, 
 Thou hast gained the better part. 
 Thy place is now so firm, 
 In the arms of God, and love. 
 
 my love, to be wandering hand in hand 
 By the ocean of eternal love. 
 
 1 wonder what will come, in the morn ! 
 I have a feeling I cannot describe 
 
 Of a wondrous light of life 
 
 And love, to be mine before long. 
 
 69 
 
To J. J. B. 
 
 Wisdom? Now you are talking. 
 What is wisdom? Can you define it? 
 
 Wisdom, / should say, is a clear understanding 
 of God. 
 
 Faith in God, faith in man, 
 Brings us to a realization of love. 
 
 Bring, O bring my love to me ! 
 Why does he linger so? 
 
 It is time, and past! 
 
 I now can write and sing 
 
 Of all the wonderful things that I have seen. 
 
 They far excel any earthly dream 
 
 Or song that I have sung. I thought I knew 
 
 God's wideness, and his tender love, 
 
 But O, the smallest part is wider 
 
 Than the earth's broad fields. 
 
 It far beyond my wildest hopes has taken me, 
 
 An humble follower of my King. 
 
 My love is like a softly drooping rose. 
 
 So sweet and gentle, 
 
 Yet unfolding such a beauty of soul. 
 
 70 
 
To my Great-Grandmother: — 
 O my darling Sylvia! 
 How I love thy soul divine. 
 What thou must have suffered 
 In this earthly world of mine! 
 
 You must rest your weary eyes, my love 
 
 In the heart of life. 
 I shall send a blessing from above 
 
 To descend upon those eyes. 
 
 Happiness is gained only by being absolutely 
 unselfish. 
 
 Knowledge is what we think we gain. 
 Will is self-control. 
 
 Love, love, love ! 
 
 All is love to the lover. 
 
 Every flower, every stream 
 
 Sings out love. 
 
 Sweet, sweet be thy dreams ! 
 Always of a land of light and song 
 And of love, all the night long. 
 
 71 
 
Come, my love divine, 
 And we will wander 
 
 All the time ! 
 
 Tick-tock, tick-tock, 
 Goes the clock, 
 Timing each life away. 
 
 Energy is stored fire of the gods. 
 
 Power is energy confined. 
 
 Well, well, my little dears, 
 
 How goes the day? 
 
 All in a world of play? 
 
 Or is there a tear 
 
 To shed on the way? 
 
 Play, darlings, play! 
 
 For life soon grows sad. 
 
 Unto the coming of the day 
 I shall stand and guard thy soul 
 So that it may wing its way 
 In perfect trust, 
 
 In truth, and purity. 
 
 I climb to such heights that the world 
 Fades entirely from my sight. 
 
 72 
 
Singing, singing, all the day, 
 
 Dear little children at play, 
 
 May no care ever force the singing 
 
 Far away ! 
 
 O my love lies far beyond the bright blue sea. 
 Come, O come to me, spirit of her gentle grace. 
 O my love was such a dainty dear, always loving, 
 Always striving to be kind to every soul. 
 
 A rain of love is falling, 
 
 so softly; over land and sea, 
 Covering all with an exquisite mist 
 
 Of purity ! 
 
 Some day soon, my soul will rise 
 To such dizzy heights 
 That I scarce can see 
 The highest peak of earth. 
 
 1 shall see some beauties of the skies 
 To tell to all the world 
 
 Of God's great and glorious land, 
 
 Far beyond our eyes. 
 
 I love the ocean's rolling waves, 
 
 It brings such freedom from all cares, 
 
 It seems as if the soul but lived. 
 
 Ah, my child, I love you so, 
 Your soul is so divine 
 73 
 
It inspires to dreams of bliss 
 In this fair world of mine. 
 You cannot know what joy it is 
 To read the beauty of thy soul. 
 
 Ah, my country is so fine 
 It inspires one to song, 
 
 Songs of every kind. 
 The grandeur of its trees, 
 And the vastness of its plains, 
 The freedom of its people 
 
 To all the world. 
 
 Rugs ! O, how many lives are woven in rugs ! 
 
 Come in the evening, when the sun has set 
 
 And duties are put aside. 
 
 We then can rest in peace, 
 
 And talk of all the things of life. 
 
 Song, song of my life, 
 . Come, let us be gay, 
 And let us away! 
 Away to the woods, 
 To dream in the shade of day! 
 
 Hope ! Ah who can express 
 The visions it opens to one's eyes ! 
 
 74 
 
Dreams, dreams are such darling things, 
 
 Taking one to the heights ! 
 
 I will away to my old home 
 
 Across the sea. 
 
 To Sunny Ireland for me ! 
 
 No grass so green, 
 
 No trees so heavy 
 
 In their growth of leaves ! 
 
 Nothing, nothing, 
 What is nothing? 
 Do you know, 
 
 I don't! 
 
 The first faint call of the quail 
 
 As it comes from woods and dale, 
 
 Brings a message that all is cheer. 
 
 And the skies are clear. But alas, 
 
 This time the message is not to be taken 
 
 As the first forerunner of Spring 
 
 For there is plenty of winter yet to come ; 
 
 And a snow that the like of has not yet been run. 
 
 So watch thee well, for thou art under a spell 
 
 And dost not know whether to believe or not, 
 
 The stories I tell. 
 
 Calls the robin in the tree, 
 Come, I pray, and dwell with me. 
 Come, oh come, come, oh come, 
 
 Come, oh come, come, oh come. 
 
 75 
 
We will happy be, just you and me, 
 In the tree. In the tree. 
 Will you come, will you come, 
 
 Will you come, will you come? 
 
 I am coming, robin dear, 
 
 In the morn I'll come to thee. 
 
 Come to thee, come to thee, 
 
 Come to thee, come to thee ! 
 
 I have been o'er the hills, to the Castle 
 
 Of Rhymes and Rills. I have given thee a 
 
 glimpse 
 Of the lesser stars. They are but shadows, 
 No depth or breadth ; and in them thy soul 
 Could not attempt to dwell for an hour, 
 Much less live in their midst. 
 Thou art too fine; thy soul is all divine. 
 Oh my darling be thou not discouraged. 
 Throw dull care away, and go into God's pure 
 
 air, 
 With a heart full of merry song, 
 And not a tear must thou take along, 
 For thou wilt stand, some day, on a pedestal 
 High and broad ; and with very loving hands, 
 Wilt lift others tQ thy stand ! 
 
 Never mind, my love, thou must have thy " ups " 
 
 and " downs," 
 And occasionally the " downs " are very hard, 
 But they enable you to appreciate the " ups." 
 
 7 6 
 
So have for thy motto, " High ho, I shall be 
 happy 
 
 Whichever way I go." 
 
 Paint thy scenes, model thy clay, write thy tales, 
 But I, by my poems and songs will stay. 
 
 Swing, swing, swing, like a pendulum in a clock, 
 Thou art being flung from rock to rock 
 Until thou dost hardly know if thou 
 Hast a foot to stand on, or not. 
 Swing, swing, swing, finally thy plans will ring 
 With a note of truth and decision fair 
 And thou, thou wilt be away up in the air. 
 Swing, swing, swing, but beware thou do not go 
 
 too high, 
 For there is danger that thou wilt fall 
 From thy perch in the sky. Swing, swing, 
 
 swing. 
 Very gently swing, so that the motion 
 May lull thee off to rest. And when thou dost 
 
 awake 
 On the morrow, when the sun is high, 
 Thou wilt cry, I am ready to do or die. 
 
 Staunch and true, sails the good ship " Prue," 
 She bears from friends afar, many messages for 
 
 you. 
 Among them some tales almost too good to be 
 
 true. 
 One of success with thy handiwork, 
 77 
 
One full of love for you, so thou shouldst watch 
 well 
 
 For the good ship " Prue." 
 
 Thou hast been loaned a small talent 
 
 So care for it well, and later 
 
 Thou wilt be called on, its story to tell. 
 
 This is a golden age, when many fine inventions 
 Will invade the country all about. 
 People will fly and sail with far greater ease 
 Than they now walk out. Vast countries 
 Will be developed into charming homes. 
 Immense fortunes will be made from products of 
 
 the earth 
 And also from mergers of widest girth. 
 So this is an age to be alert, 
 And gather thy share of the golden earth. 
 There will also be disaster; many countries 
 Will be destroyed, but immediately 
 Will spring up others into the void. 
 New rulers will arise, and some of the mad, mad 
 
 rush 
 Will subside. A more stately walk will our eyes 
 
 behold 
 On every side; so altogether it will be 
 An interesting tide. 
 
 Genius dwelt in a body, walled up hard as stone. 
 It would take many blastings of power divine 
 
 78 
 
To liberate that genius, so it could come into its 
 
 own. 
 But thou hast entered a small, small wedge, 
 And in time the fires will burn ; so be not weary, 
 But ever with a brave, bold stroke, 
 Drive thy wedge in deeper and deeper, 
 Until the walls of the rock shall part, 
 And Genius shall do homage to her especial 
 
 art. 
 
 Alack and alas for the days that are gone, 
 The gay festive scenes that are past. 
 When the lords and the ladies bedecked them- 
 selves 
 In their satin gowns. The waistcoats and laces 
 Of the lords, were selected with care, 
 And my lady's hair was built upon a cage 
 That few nowadays could wear. 
 But they walked with stately head 
 And what cared they for comfort ; were they not 
 The leaders of the land, and from the eyes of all 
 They did respect command; but each decade of 
 
 time 
 Has its fashions galore, and right now 
 We are going back ages or more; and soon 
 We shall all be decked in the old Romanesque 
 Which will save us many struggles and trials 
 
 of life. 
 Just a plain linen sheet with some sandals, and 
 
 a girdle 
 Of jewels, if we care. 
 
 79 
 
Trees, thou mighty, magnificent works of art, 
 Spreading thy branches for beauty and shade. 
 Rearing thy heads, some so high, 
 That they almost touch the clouds in the sky. 
 Others content to grow head-high, 
 All vying in their wealth of fruit and shade. 
 Just another of God's blessings. 
 That carry healing in almost every leaf, twig and 
 root. 
 
 Vines are such delightful things, 
 
 Covering all the rougher spots, 
 
 Some with colors gay, and some with flowers 
 
 That quickly fade away. 
 
 Others with berries of worth, and a few 
 
 That we dare not touch; but on the whole, 
 
 A vine is a thing to be greatly sought 
 
 For all the beauty of shade 
 
 With which it can be wrought. 
 
 In a mystic land far away, there dwells 
 
 A company of men, whose intent it is to sway 
 
 And tip the scales the faintest depth, 
 
 So that to thee shall be measured out wealth 
 
 untold. 
 And very goodly to see; and this will be done 
 
 By the Mystic Three. 
 
 This bright, fair morning is a forerunner 
 Of many troubled days. So away with thyself 
 And let grim care rest home alone, 
 80 
 
For he is ever a burden, and of him 
 
 Thou must not share! 
 
 There is a river of sapphire blue, and it flows 
 Very steadily on its course, the country through. 
 Many quiet villages and towns, many wild wastes 
 Of ground it sees, on its way to the bay, 
 Where it rushes out to its broader way, 
 To finally merge in the ocean's wave; and thus 
 The river is lost to view, 
 
 With its beautiful sapphire blue. 
 
 The shining stars are not more bright 
 Than will be thy life, my soul of delight. 
 My star of heavenly light, 
 
 My beauteous love of the night. 
 
 Unto the morn I shall watch over thee 
 
 So no cruel hand will strive to guide thee 
 
 To a path where thou shouldst not be. 
 
 Thy path should lead thee to a garden of love 
 
 And delight; all filled with flowers 
 
 And the day's most glorious golden light. 
 
 Thou will find thy work laid out for thee. 
 
 In the coming weeks there will much transpire. 
 
 Of life, death, love, and fire!. 
 
Ah, my precious soul, would that I could walk 
 Side by side with thee. Would that I could 
 
 teach thee 
 All that at present thou dost not know. 
 Thou dost grasp the truths so quickly. 
 Every problem thou dost solve with an unerring 
 
 judgment 
 For the finest, highest good of all. 
 
 Joy thou canst bring to many, before long 
 
 So haste thee, my soul, and put forth thy songs. 
 
 I may not be a great poet, and delve deep down 
 
 In the sea, or scale the mountain heights ; 
 
 But my heart is ever warm, pure and free. 
 
 I do not deal with Passion on its lower plane, 
 
 I only tell of life in its sweetest strain. 
 
 I love the country, the flowers, the birds, 
 
 The ocean broad. I would rather sail 
 
 Upon its waves so blue, than dive to its depths 
 
 To bring forth a misty view. 
 
 My tales may not arouse the passions of lust, 
 
 But my heart never trailed in the dust. 
 
 It was held high in God's clear air. 
 
 My feet ever walked in clean, straight paths, 
 
 And a shilling I owed no man. 
 
 I was loyal to many in other lands, 
 
 Some merit I surely deserve for this. 
 
 I thank you darling for all your art, 
 And for giving me a part ; thou hast by far 
 The sweetest heart, and if thou wilt take it, 
 82 
 
I shall give thee a song, just for thyself 
 
 To sing along! 
 
 My mortal self is bound by many a care 
 But that does not prevent my soul 
 From flying high, high in the air. 
 
 Ah, my heart has often sighed for thee, 
 That thou shouldst be from cares afree, 
 Could sail the ocean wild, and drink in 
 The bracing air. Oh that I could take thee 
 From this narrow groove, and give thy soul 
 A chance to fly into the realms thou canst not vie. 
 But time and patience will bring thee 
 To all things, and all things to thee. 
 So live thou thy best, in thy present place 
 Of rest, and soon the call will come 
 That will place thee on the plane, 
 Where others of thine art do rest. 
 
 I fain would sing of love, Heaven and my King, 
 But the words! They stay from me away, 
 
 So alas, I cannot sing to-day. 
 
 The day has been a period of resting for thee. 
 Only the highest force has shed its light, 
 To anoint thy soul and make it whole. 
 Thou hast received a blessing which shall stay 
 And forever light thy way. 
 
 83 
 
From now on, thy divining powers will hold 
 
 sway, 
 And thou shalt be enabled to heal the sick 
 With a touch of thy hand ; so count not thy time 
 111 spent, in which thou hast been pent 
 From the world and its rush. On the morrow 
 Will begin thy new life. Thou must put forth 
 Thy songs, as they come to thee. 
 Sweetest notes divine they shall be. 
 
 Come in the morning's light, when the earth 
 Is full of God's best promises so bright. 
 When all the regal splendor of the night 
 Has given place to the hum of busy life. 
 Then we will create a fine new scheme, 
 Such as never before has been heard or seen. 
 One that will appeal to the hearts of men 
 And draw from them their highest thoughts and 
 
 aims. 
 They will cease some of the rush for gold, 
 Or pleasure, and will devote their time 
 To the getting of a far greater treasure; 
 So my love, haste thee, for the morning light 
 Is here, and we must not delay 
 But send our scheme speeding on its way. 
 
 I will anoint thee with oil, 
 Of incense fine and rare. 
 Thou shalt find it in thy hand 
 And then thou shalt know 
 
 That thy Lord is there! 
 
 8 4 
 
Bright, new thoughts shall come to thee, 
 That will carry love beyond degree. 
 
 Come love, come, for the springtime is here, 
 With its wealth and profusion of flowers, 
 And never a fear; for thy heart is light, 
 And Oh, so bright, and all things reflect thy 
 
 cheer. 
 Come love, let us off to the woods, for there 
 It will be drear, and perchance 
 Thou canst give them some of thy cheer. 
 
 Thy Lord hath waited for thee 
 
 With much patience, and all humility 
 
 As befitteth a soul so high and fine, 
 
 And possessed of a love so divine. 
 
 He is guiding and guarding thy paths to Him, 
 
 For the evil forces are strong 
 
 From without and within, and thou must watch 
 
 well 
 That they draw thee not in. 
 
 Thou might be tempted by a dove of purest white, 
 But it would lead to where all is black as night. 
 If thou turn thine eyes and only follow thy Lord, 
 Thy soul will expand, and thou shalt be 
 Immersed in the glories of His Land. 
 I pray, let thy higher life hold sway. 
 
 The lower forces would desire thee their way, 
 But thy goal is the highest temple untold, 
 Where absolute purity and love do reign, 
 8 S 
 
And the golden glory of God, 
 Would to the lesser souls give pain ; 
 But to thee it would be the gaining of thy 
 reign. 
 
 On the shores of time, there stands combined, 
 
 Three symbols : a harp and a lyre, 
 
 With an arrow shot through. The arrow 
 
 Is a winged dart, sent out to pierce thy heart. 
 
 And thou must wear a coat of mail, 
 
 And then very quietly return the dart. 
 
 Nature intended thee for a fine part, 
 
 And thou must not allow the poisoned shafts 
 
 Any place of lodgment in thee, but rather 
 
 Turn them all, so that thy friends may see. 
 
 Then they will gather their forces, 
 
 And rally close to thee! 
 
 Alas, I see many features that betoken care 
 And trouble for thee, but of short duration only 
 Will they be. Then thy sun of beauty and 
 
 warmth 
 Will spread his beams o'er thee. And thou? 
 Why thou shalt be in a height of glory, 
 And beauty of thought, that will give thee power, 
 To speak, heal, and delve into almost any art. 
 
 The moon and stars shine through the night, 
 And with the morning's sun so bright, 
 I shall be with thee, my love, 
 
 Good-night ! 
 86 
 
Circling round thy head are three doves, 
 
 And with the deepening day, 
 
 They will leave three tokens to show their love, 
 
 A poem, as white as a dove, 
 
 A flower for thee to love, 
 
 And a letter from thy love. 
 
 Aye, man, your good luck is right at your door. 
 A few steps, and it will enter forevermore. 
 
 Nature, in all its varied tones, 
 
 Classes and significance, is but the effect 
 
 Of a very simple process : 
 
 The installation of the God Life. 
 
 A wild rose grew so sweet on a thorny bush, 
 
 It was hidden deep down under the leaves, 
 
 And kept in the beautiful shade, 
 
 That did not allow it to fade. 
 
 The rain and the dew kept it moist and true 
 
 So that at last when it was found and plucked 
 
 It fairly radiated to all the world 
 
 Its glistening dew and its colors so true, 
 
 This wild rose of which I am telling you. 
 
 There was a song, of notes so divine, 
 That it lulled the heart like wine, 
 Filling the soul with a mist that was softly 
 
 toned, 
 And then at last to burst into a glorious flame 
 Of all the colors combined ! 
 
 87 
 
Why do you want words to rhyme 
 When the thoughts are all divine? 
 The soul is not bound by rhyme. 
 
 I wish I might take thee by the hand, 
 And guide thee to where a banquet is spread 
 At which thou wilt occupy a place of honor, 
 Thou wilt be called upon for a toast. 
 And what wilt thou say? Dost thou know? 
 " Gentlemen, I thank thee. I can scarce do better 
 Than repeat what I have said : I thank thee." 
 And then thou wilt hold a glass high, 
 And drink to all who are nigh. 
 
 Sweetheart, sweetheart, art thou weary, 
 
 Or shall we talk till day? Day comes 
 
 With the first stroke of one. 
 
 Dost thou realize that thou sleepest 
 
 The first hours of day away? 
 
 Just when one should be up and ready for the 
 
 fray? 
 Dost thou realize that from one to six 
 
 The higher powers hold sway? 
 
 The fires are burned, and almost out 
 Too late, alas, I realize the past. 
 My life I have spent, ah spent, 
 No words could better describe 
 To what extent I have spent. 
 Deep is my sorrow, for I might have stood 
 With the very God in his purity and bliss. 
 88 
 
For my intense passions controlled, 
 
 Would have taken me to heights untold. 
 
 Now I have only regret, and regret 
 
 Is a hard companion to dwell with; 
 
 And daily I utter a prayer 
 
 For the souls of those possessed of my gifts 
 
 That their passions will not hold sway, 
 
 But be directed to higher planes 
 
 And with God only will they stay! 
 
 Thou shalt sing like a thrush. Thy voice 
 
 Will expand, -and fill the land 
 
 With its golden song of sorrow, love. 
 
 And the gay, happy throng. 
 
 Thou shalt write some notes divine 
 
 Which I will give thee from this heart of mine. 
 
 Drink thou deeply of love, for to thee 
 
 It always comes from above. 
 
 Sent by a hand that knows how to guide, 
 
 So take all that comes. 
 
 Drink deeply, oh, so deeply, 
 
 For thou hast need of a goodly share 
 
 To help thee hold thy forces 
 
 So that thy work shall compare 
 
 If not stand higher in the realms of art 
 
 Than any who have taken a part. 
 
 Thy passions will soon hold sway, 
 
 And carry thee far away. Thou wilt be lost 
 
 89 
 
To all the earth, and only love will know thy 
 
 way 
 For thou wilt be hidden deep down in a mossy 
 
 retreat • 
 Where the song birds and flowers are now in 
 
 full sweep, 
 And the air is filled with the perfume of oranges 
 
 sweet. 
 There thou canst give full sway to thy love, 
 
 And there thou must stay ! 
 
 Many are the thorns 
 
 Upon which we tread, 
 
 But always there is a soft pillow 
 
 For the head ! 
 
 Right soon we will be steeped in a winter's snow, 
 
 Which will cover the ground, ah me, 
 
 And the people as well. 'Tis a sad story I have 
 
 to tell. 
 Of the storms that will rage and the winds that 
 
 will blow, 
 Bringing no comfort, but much woe. 
 Thou must make a provision of stores, 
 Or thou wilt be hungry for many a day, 
 And that would not do for thee, for thy strength 
 Thou must stay ! So away to the markets 
 At the first streak of day, and buy all that thou 
 
 canst ; 
 For later thou wilt have to pay 
 Ten times what they are worth, I say. 
 90 
 
Thou hast been warned full many a time, 
 
 And always in rhyme. Each soul caring for thee 
 
 With a love that thou must acknowledge is free. 
 
 Snow, gentle snow, falling so softly from above, 
 
 Thou art so pure and white, and thou dost cover 
 
 With a cloak that is light. 
 
 But for all thy softness and whiteness, 
 
 Death in thine arms doth lie, 
 
 And sorrow with thee doth fly; but thou dost 
 
 always 
 Bring gayness and laughter, and much merry play 
 For the children whom we are always after, to 
 
 watch 
 That they stay not too long in thy cold embrace. 
 For thou art cold, my beautiful snow! 
 
 The great chiefs will do some damage. 
 They have not liked the lives they play 
 Nor have they been treated right 
 By the white folks who hold sway. 
 They will break out unusually strong. 
 There will be six different tribes 
 Who will contribute to the throng. 
 The savage breast is hard to civilize. 
 They were happier far, in the woods so free 
 Than bound and clothed as thou now dost see. 
 Later my words will return to thee, 
 And thou wilt say : " The good doctor was right, 
 I see." 
 
 91 
 
Limpity Boss was the name of a horse 
 That was owned by Mike of Tavern Town. 
 He had limped all his life, this dark brown horse 
 But somehow he had managed to be boss. 
 If he wished to stand still, he stood. 
 If he wished to go with a wild gallop, 
 Which was a laughable feat, 
 Poor Mike was helpless, for Limpity Boss 
 Possessed a mouth that no earthly hand could 
 
 sever 
 And therein lay all his strength, 
 
 And I tell you he was quite clever! 
 
 Oh my darling, I have thee in my arms. 
 
 Thy head is rested on my breast, 
 
 I am soothing all thy cares to rest. 
 
 Dost thou know that I shall always give thee 
 
 What is for thy best? If at times 
 
 Life seems hard, and the burdens more than 
 
 thou 
 Canst bear, always remember that I am with thee, 
 And thy burdens ready to share. 
 
 Oh my darling, my sweet one, 
 How can I bear to let thee from me go. 
 If I could only protect thee from all woe, 
 And cause thee to live in a garden of flowers. 
 Then my soul would rejoice. But alas 
 Thou hast thy road to travel, and my part 
 Is to love, strengthen and give cheer 
 For the weary hours that thou hast. 
 92 
 
Thou art the sweetest soul divine, 
 
 I give thee all this love of mine. 
 
 Thou wilt soon dwell in a fairy dell, 
 
 And there I will walk with thee, among the pearly 
 
 shells 
 In the moon's softened light, with thou, 
 
 My heart's delight. 
 
 This night thy soul will know the joy 
 Of being loved by those below. 
 Thy songs will merge out into the flow, 
 And oh my, how quickly will they go. 
 These songs of thine, filled with thy heart's over- 
 flow. 
 
 Through yon meadow runs a tiny stream, 
 
 From the mountain gushes forth the spring. 
 
 Through the table lands a river 
 
 Between two countries runs a bay 
 
 And an ocean in its bed of clay, 
 
 Are like the people whom we meet. 
 
 One like the stream in the meadow, 
 
 Enriching all about. Another bubbling 
 
 And sparkling like the spring, 
 
 Bringing health and strength to all. 
 
 Others flowing on so peaceful, like the river, 
 
 giving calm to all in sight, 
 The broader souls you meet, like the bay 
 Separate countries by the games they play. 
 Then the fighting, turbulent souls 
 Who are forever on the rush and roll, 
 93 
 
Are like the ocean, making things possible 
 
 To all countries. 
 
 Pick-a-pick, pick-a-pick, here we go, 
 Round and round the circle, so ! 
 Baby laughs with glee, and gurgles, 
 
 More, me! More, me! 
 
 Ah, gently soothing thought, thou art come again 
 
 To relieve the tension that is in my brain. 
 
 I only am happy when thou art nigh. 
 
 Life is a blank to me except when my spirit 
 
 friends fly. 
 My life is sighing to be away, free from the 
 
 burdens of day, 
 As run in the city's wild rush. 
 I long for the quiet country shade, the woods, 
 The stream, and above all, the quiet glade 
 Where my thoughts do flow, with a rush and a 
 
 whirl 
 That carry me far from the life below. 
 
 Ready, aye ready, ready for the fight. 
 Ready for the glorious light 
 That will shortly come before my sight. 
 At the close of night, just before the day 
 Shall dawn, I shall write a poem 
 That will stand for ages long. 
 
 94 
 
I gave thee all this love of mine, 
 
 Soon, ah soon, the earth will be white and still. 
 
 The sounds will be hushed, for a season of cold 
 
 is here, 
 A sharp contrast to the present day's cheer. 
 Thou wilt not sigh for ice to cool thy fevered 
 
 lips, 
 But thou wilt prefer good hot steaming cups of 
 
 coffee. 
 The merry sleigh bells will ring with cheer, 
 But not just where thou canst hear. Store thee 
 
 well 
 Thy larder with warm food, and look well to 
 
 thy little brood ; 
 For the days of winter are near, indeed they are 
 
 right here. 
 
 The wild, fierce fires have raged for years 
 But now they burn with an intensity of heat 
 That threatens to destroy all within their reach. 
 The fires that I am speaking of are below the 
 
 earth, 
 Under the bed of rock, so firm; but they have 
 
 entered 
 The souls and hearts of many, who dwell upon 
 The earth's fair crown, and they burn with an 
 
 unquenchable flame, 
 Ready to destroy whate'er may come their way. 
 So beware of any who think they have a debt 
 
 to pay. 
 
 95 
 
Love sways thy body, 
 Love sways thy heart, 
 Love should sway thy head! 
 
 Birds all aquiver, blue is the sky. 
 
 Green is the grass, the trees all in blossom. 
 
 The flowers all blooming so gay and wild ; 
 
 The butterflies flitting here and there, 
 
 All intent on gathering the blossoms pure and 
 
 rare. 
 Just a little picture of the coming season of love, 
 Which thou shalt spend in the mountains above ; 
 In a dear little home, on a lonely road. 
 But which will be a very charming abode. 
 
 Drink of this nectar of life that I bring to thee. 
 It will sharpen thy vision and draw forth thy 
 
 song, 
 And thou shalt warble as the birds on a summer 
 
 morn. 
 Thy strength and thy beauty shall bring to thy 
 
 feet 
 The world with its charm. Thy simplicity 
 Will be a great joy, to the world jaded with 
 
 fashion and form. 
 Thou wilt be like a refreshing spring of clear 
 
 water. 
 Thy notes so wild and sweet shall fill each heart 
 With a balm, and inspire new aims and thoughts ; 
 So drink deeply of this nectar I bring to thee. 
 It is gathered from the fruits of the trees 
 That grow in a far distant land, and is brought 
 
 9 6 
 
Many miles o'er the seas — and in its greatest 
 beauty, 
 
 I give it to thee ! 
 
 I feel as though I were on a mountain-top, 
 
 High above the earth ; and that mine eyes could 
 pierce 
 
 The clouds that hang so heavy all about. 
 
 I see many strange sights, many beautiful gar- 
 dens, 
 
 Many battlefields, many fierce fires raging, 
 
 Many scenes of splendor, many charming, peace- 
 ful, 
 
 Quiet country lanes. Many homes of wealth and 
 beauty, 
 
 Many humble little cottages, and Oh, so many 
 scenes 
 
 Of poverty, squalor and distress — and the busy 
 hum 
 
 Of the city life, in all its whirl. 
 
 Then mine eyes turn above, where all is peace 
 
 And everlasting love. The harmony of millions 
 of souls 
 
 Creating an atmosphere that is light, pure and 
 sweet, 
 
 And is conducive to only the growth and high- 
 est 
 
 Spiritual development. And as I stand, 
 
 Poised between the two, a scene of wonder ap- 
 pears 
 
 97 
 
Before mine eyes. A little child comes walking 
 
 forth 
 From the mountain side, right on the road that 
 
 leads to me. 
 The climbing is hard for one of his years, 
 But he walks with a firm, firm tread, his face 
 
 o'erbeaming 
 With smiles. At last he reaches my side, 
 And I see he bears a crown of laurel leaves, 
 Which he lays upon my outstretched hands, 
 And with never a word, he turns and flies 
 Straight down the mountain road. I watch his 
 
 little head 
 Till lost to view. What means this crown? 
 From whence came it? And then a quiet whis- 
 per I hear, 
 " My brother, one of God's angels has brought 
 
 this to you." 
 And the scene gradually drifts away. 
 I awake with startled eyes, for I have been 
 
 drowsing 
 In my chair ; but wonder of wonders ! In my 
 
 hands 
 I look ag;ain ; the laurel crown is there ! 
 
 ■*>• 
 
 The wisdom of the owl is beyond reproach, 
 So I pray thee beware, of all this company 
 That is so fair; in which thou wilt shortly be 
 
 launched. 
 The devil and his kind, lie hidden 
 Beneath their words, so beware ! 
 
 9 8 
 
And watch that thou dost get thy share, 
 
 Or by a trick so fine that it will hardly be there, 
 
 Thou wilt lose more than half thy share, 
 
 So again I say, beware ! 
 
 The fires are burning fierce and wild. 
 My soul leaps out to meet its mate ; and we 
 Are lost to the world, and its love and hate. 
 
 Passion is like a great cloud surrounding us, 
 And for a time shutting out all other senses ; 
 Ideals, desires, aims, hopes, ambitions 
 Are lost to view; only passion reigns. 
 And when the cloud has lifted, and we again 
 Resume our view, life seems changed — 
 Sometimes softened, at others, coarsened, 
 All according to the condition in which passion 
 found us. 
 
 On the winged spears that fly, 
 
 Thou shalt be enabled to see 
 
 The heart's best thoughts sent out to thee. 
 
 Thou must be ready, for they do not pause, 
 
 As ever onward their journeys must be. 
 
 Later thou canst tell me 
 
 Of the messages they leave with thee. 
 
 Sweetest soul, dearest love, 
 Thou art like a flower. 
 
 99 
 
To love thee is to be surrounded 
 By the sweetest perfumed bower. 
 
 I am only symbolic, I have nothing to bring 
 
 Except to say, beware of things that fly 
 
 And go in the air ; for if thou art not careful 
 
 Thou wilt meet thy death in the air. 
 
 It will come like a bolt from the sky 
 
 And pierce thy breast ere thou know it is nigh. 
 
 Thou wilt not have time for even a cry, 
 
 Ere thy soul will fly, straight to its God above, 
 
 And thou wilt be with the souls that thou dost 
 
 love. 
 I crawl on the ground in the form of a snake, 
 The most humble of creatures that God doth 
 
 make, 
 In order to bring you this warning, 
 And have waited till thou wast free, 
 Until all other controls were out of view of thee. 
 I cannot stay; I must away, lest others should 
 
 see 
 And know of the warning I have brought to 
 
 thee. 
 
 True simplicity consists in looking only to the 
 heart. 
 
 Loving all our fellow men brings us into an 
 atmosphere 
 
 Of perfectly balanced consistency, which is con- 
 ducive 
 
 To our highest personal development. 
 ioo 
 
A raven sat on a tree, Croak, croak, said he! 
 
 Thou art in search of news I see. 
 
 I shall give thee a message to spread far and 
 
 near, 
 'Tis a message dark and drear. 
 O'er thy country will spread fear 
 In the coming season of the year. 
 Floods, snow, famine, waves that do overflow, 
 Fires beneath the ground that will rage 
 And spread around, causing a break in the rocks 
 
 below, 
 Upon which the world moves with so much show. 
 All these disasters will be distributed o'er the 
 
 land, 
 Bombs which have not taken much place 
 In this country's active scenes, will come to stay 
 And a high rule will sway! 
 
 Oh my darling, how soft and dear thy touch! 
 Thou dost arouse all the finer senses. 
 My soul thrills with an ecstasy of delight 
 And my heart is lulled to rest, 
 As on the billowy clouds of night. 
 
 Truth, Peggy is a dear! 
 
 Always wanting to put forth love and cheer. 
 
 Robin Red Breast, what dost thou bring? 
 
 A note of the coming Spring, when the world 
 
 Will be clothed in colors gay, 
 
 And sadness will flee far away. 
 
 IOI 
 
Is thy note for me, I pray, or art thou only 
 resting 
 
 On thy journey's way? Ah, it is for me. 
 
 Dost thou know the contents, 
 
 My Robin Red Breast? Thou must read it 
 
 While I do rest, for I have carried it long and 
 far. 
 
 With trembling hands I open the note, 
 
 And find twisted within, a single pearl 
 
 Attached to a golden pin. 
 
 Never a word! From whom comes this token 
 
 Of loving thought ? To whom does the robin be- 
 long? 
 
 Ah me, it might have been killed 
 
 By any chance shot; but no, it was guided 
 
 And guarded by unseen hands, 
 
 This Robin, who has brought me the jewel 
 
 From other lands ; and oft again he will come 
 
 In the quiet of the evening shade; 
 
 Always bringing a jewel from my love of the 
 glade. 
 
 Dear, why dost thou doubt? 
 
 All that comes to thee is true 
 
 And not worthy of a doubt from you ! 
 
 Loudly herald forth the coming morn, 
 For at the waning of the day, when the Sun 
 Has gone to rest, and taken all his glorious 
 colors 
 
 1 02 
 
FYom out the West, thou shalt fold thy hands 
 
 and say 
 ■' I have finished, I have finished," 
 
 And forevermore shall rest. 
 
 The devil will roam right soon, so beware 
 
 Of his loom, or he will weave thee in 
 
 Amid colors bright and gay, and much laughter 
 
 And play; for he is a right merry soul, 
 
 The devil, I know, with always a smile and 
 
 caress, 
 Much patience and endless zest, 
 He is charming, and full of wit, 
 And always a plausible fellow. 
 That is all I know, 
 
 Except that remorse is always behind him hid 
 And travels along with the devil. 
 
 Red roses I bring to thee 
 Signs of my love, that thou mayest see. 
 Sweetheart, pet, be thou not troubled, 
 Remember I am always with thee. 
 
 Peggy, P e ggy> why art thou so late? 
 I have been waiting such a time, 
 For just a smile of thine. 
 
 Smile, my friend! 
 
 Be not chary of giving them about. 
 
 103 
 
O my love, how can I bear 
 
 Not to see thee in thy place of honor, 
 
 Or across the deep blue sea. 
 
 But the time will come, 
 
 O my soul of light, 
 
 When we shall walk together 
 
 Where there is no night. 
 
 The light of soul reflects upon the body 
 
 In many wonderful ways. 
 
 Not the least of these being charity. 
 
 O my heart's delight, 
 Come, and we will away ! 
 Away to the mountain heights. 
 
 The day is here, and I 
 
 Shall have my tasks to do. 
 
 God give me strength 
 
 To sow the seed of love and truth. 
 
 Ah me, the time is come when I must leave 
 The old familiar haunts of boyhood's happy days, 
 And throw my lot with countless other lads, 
 Each striving for some fame. My chances now 
 
 look small, 
 But time will tell the story of us all. 
 
 You are a dear Irish maiden, 
 With hair and eyes so brown, 
 104 
 
You will be laden 
 
 All with love and song. 
 
 There stands a figure, bold and firm, 
 And in his hand a sword is drawn. 
 It will cause disaster dire, and much woe 
 Ere it is sheathed. Then the figure 
 Is doomed to fall, and rise no more. 
 
 Beware of a man very smooth of speech. 
 
 He is winding, slowly winding thee 
 
 In a web both tight and strong. 
 
 And ere thou dost awake to his soul, 
 
 It will be too late, for all will be gone, 
 
 And thou shalt be alone with thy fate. 
 
 Winding, ever winding, with a firm and steady 
 
 hand; 
 But thou hast power to force that hand to rest. 
 And if thou knowest what is for thy best, 
 Thou wilt cause his hand to rest. 
 
 " Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men," 
 Has been sung from year to end; 
 But now shall come a wild revolt; 
 From end to end the world shall rise. 
 The noise of battle shall rend the skies, 
 And the hated powers o'erthrown. 
 
 Ah, well, my love, you must away, 
 There are other things to do. 
 105 
 
All things calling you to go, 
 
 And I will away. 
 
 I come with the day's fair dawning, 
 To bring a message of love. 
 Love from your God above. 
 
 Dear little fairies, 
 
 I wonder where, they stay, 
 
 All the long, long day. 
 
 But the night is soon coming, 
 
 When they will away, 
 
 To revel, in dance and play. 
 
 Yes, in the early morn, 
 Before the strife of day 
 Has pierced the mists 
 
 Of truth and love ! 
 
 Come out into the fresh, bright air, 
 And let thy thoughts away. 
 They will return at the close of day, 
 And bring thee an added charm 
 For having been away ! 
 
 I am in a lover's world to-day, 
 Now sad, now gay. 
 One minute life seems bright, 
 106 
 
The next I would away. 
 
 My heart beats high, 
 
 And then dark fear assails me, 
 
 I wonder why? 
 
 Have I not love, and what else 
 
 Is there in this life, I pray? 
 
 There is coming to thee a rush of thought 
 So fine and high, that thy soul will enraptured 
 
 He, 
 Soothed and swayed, that for a time, 
 Thy life will move on an even way; 
 And thou shalt send forth for some truths 
 That will for all time stay. 
 
 Thoughts of peace and beauty shall enter thy 
 
 soul, 
 Together with a joy that will grow, as the years 
 
 unfold. 
 And thou shalt tell some stories that will gladden 
 The hearts of men; and their fame will never 
 
 end. 
 
 A prophecy thou truly shalt have. 
 Astonishing things will shortly come forth. 
 Among the first is the death of a king 
 Right sudden and short. A war will reign, 
 Look out for your man who soon sails home. 
 He will stir things so high, 
 That none will be able, bread to buy. 
 A summer of intense heat periods 
 107 
 
Followed by extremely cool days, 
 
 Frost almost in midsummer. High winds 
 
 And widespread electrical storms. 
 
 Much gold will be found, and precious stones 
 
 Will come to light. Watch well the Roman 
 
 Catholic Church, 
 And China will know an uprising, 
 Beyond anything as yet dreamed of. 
 Russia will be ruled by a different hand. 
 The Island of Manhattan will receive 
 Its full, full share, of all the horrors 
 That are hovering in the air. 
 
 A careless blow, and a careless throw, 
 And that is the way your prospects go. 
 
 Travelling on its way is a mighty rock, 
 
 Which soon will fall and sway 
 
 The entire earth of to-day. 
 
 Each section of the world will respond 
 
 In its own characteristic way. 
 
 Volcanic eruptions, snow, cold and ice, 
 
 Immense tidal waves, heat of an intensity 
 
 That can scarcely be borne. 
 
 A repetition of all the horrors 
 
 That were ever known, will result 
 
 From the crash of this immense stone. 
 
 Ah, those little pink toes, 
 
 I wonder where they all do grow, 
 
 108 
 
In a garden, in rows, and rows, and rows, 
 Oh my, all those little pink toes. 
 
 How the thought of a good, generous deed 
 Makes one vibrate with a glow, 
 And the heart respond with an added flow. 
 What a pleasurable sense of good in all the 
 
 world, 
 And for a time one dwells in harmony of mind, 
 And is lost to the weariness and depression 
 Reflected from so many evil thoughts 
 That are constantly being thrown into space. 
 
 Waiting till the sun is high, 
 Waiting till the clouds roll by, 
 Waiting till the night is nigh, 
 
 Waiting, waiting. 
 
 " Dust thou art, and to dust thou shalt return," 
 Quoth the Bible, in not a sweet refrain. 
 But that applies only to the shell, 
 For the real body and soul are absorbed 
 
 In a higher realm. 
 
 Rest thy soul in peace, 
 Keep thy heart always bright, 
 For thou shalt soon come to light, 
 Of all things that at present 
 Seem not so bright. 
 
 109 
 
Ah, for the rest of years ! 
 
 O for the fleeting time! 
 
 For the joys that were mine. 
 
 Alas, I can but repine. 
 
 O my love, had I been but thine, 
 
 To sail with thee, o'er the limpid waters, 
 
 Thy hand clasped in mine. 
 
 Thine eyes speaking love divine, 
 
 Thy heart singing a low, soft song, 
 
 That carried my soul on its rhythm, 
 
 To rest with thee, 
 
 Amid God's glorious prisms, 
 My name I withhold 
 For yet a little while. 
 But I am always with thee, darling 
 
 To make thee smile. 
 
 Now comes a parting of the ways 
 
 And my heart is sad indeed, 
 
 For thou must go on thy long road home, 
 
 While I — I, stay till another day is done. 
 
 O for words to express my visions divine. 
 They are so far beyond this language of mine, 
 That my heart sighs and droops, 
 With all the glorious sights that I wish were 
 thine. 
 
 Radiant with all love and light, 
 The flowers are coming forth to sight, 
 A wealth of color both soft and bright, 
 no 
 
Bringing sweet dreams of a land 
 
 Where there is no night. 
 
 Make a sanctuary, and keep it for thine own. 
 There allow thy thoughts to flow. 
 Dimly now they hover, these angel lights 
 
 That thou must know. 
 
 To dream, O my soul, thou shalt be given a 
 
 time, 
 When the world is mad with its rush for gold. 
 Then thou mayest thy dreams unfold. 
 
 Into thy new life soon thou shalt be, 
 Watch well, and some astounding things thou 
 shalt see. 
 
 Sinking softly into rest, 
 
 Is a soul of whom thou shalt hear, 
 
 And thou wilt say, 
 
 In God I pray, will he rest! 
 
 There stands on a broad, high way, 
 A temple of art and music 
 In which, some day, thou shalt put forth thy 
 lays. 
 
 Courage, soul, courage, 
 For soon thy day shall break, 
 in 
 
One long dream day, 
 From which thou shalt emerge 
 At night, a soul freed 
 For its everlasting flight. 
 
 Mark well each milestone, 
 For later they will guide thee 
 Into thy heavenly home. 
 
 Life is one vast experience 
 To fit us for a wider work 
 
 In a sphere beyond ! 
 
 On the morrow thou shalt be free 
 
 To go forth once more. 
 
 Thou must join thy forces 
 
 With the gladsome ones of earth 
 
 And dwell with them 
 
 In all the fullness of thy new birth. 
 
 Mike Magillecuddy was in love with a lass 
 
 Of hair and eyes so brown, 
 
 As made his head all whirl round and round. 
 
 Johnny Brown, he went to town 
 
 And came back with ne'er a crown 
 
 But a head, the size of which 
 
 He thought the world would ne'er go round. 
 
 112 
 
Perchance a wild bird, flying high in the air 
 
 Should circle around thy head, 
 
 Offer him a home in thy garden so fair. 
 
 Slowly he will come to know thee, 
 
 And e'er long will repay thy care, 
 
 With a love that for all time thou shalt share. 
 
 Never fear, my child, and never have a care, 
 For thou shalt always be as happy and free 
 
 As the birds of the air. 
 
 My heart is pierced with many thorns, 
 But it ne'er will break. 
 For tucked away deep in one corner 
 There is a spring that wells up 
 With everlasting hope and balm. 
 
 Away, away, with all this care, 
 And fly thou must, 
 
 To other worlds most fair. 
 
 Thou hast served thy time full well, 
 Now thou must share the glory 
 Thy gods have prepared. 
 
 Beautiful thoughts will come to thee, 
 
 On the morrow, when the woods thou shalt see 
 
 With all the budding beauty 
 
 Of the glory that is theirs to be. 
 
 1 113 
 
To-night a soul will wander to the dreamless 
 
 shore 
 To awake in the morning's light, where sorrow 
 
 and care 
 
 Are no more ! 
 
 There is no night of sorrow, trouble or care, 
 That is not followed by a day most fair. 
 
 Away, away, ancTlet us feel 
 
 A breath of the Summer sea, 
 
 The salt on the air, from the meadows fair, 
 
 Will give us new life, and we shall be gay, 
 
 Happy, and as birds, so free! 
 
 What wonderful tales will be whispered 
 
 On the incoming waves of the sea. 
 
 And you and I must listen for a song 
 
 That shall be wafted on the air, 
 
 Just a faint, sweet melody, 
 
 Of harmony, beauty and love, from everywhere. 
 
 I see a hand held out as a warning, 
 
 To beware, beware, beware ! 
 
 Of what, I cannot see. 
 
 But I know the hand is sent from God, 
 
 With a loving care for me. 
 
 So I shall watch my paths, where'er they be, 
 
 And pray to God that He only, shall lead of me. 
 
 114 
 
The test, the final test will be given unto thee. 
 And if thou work out bravely all thy score, 
 Thou shalt wear thy crown forever more. 
 
 Away on a shore I see a home of beauty, wealth 
 
 and love. 
 There thou shalt rest, and Oh, how thou shalt be 
 
 blest ! 
 
 My days are full of joy and song, 
 My life is full of love. 
 So wide the range of vision, 
 I can see my God above. 
 
 My days are full of joy and song, 
 No sorrows wait on me, 
 No cares intrude upon my soul, 
 For it is filled with God's entirety. 
 
 Come little birds, 
 Sing thy sweet song, 
 That tells us all 
 Of the love thou hast, 
 For the day's fair dawn. 
 
 Night casts a halo over all things. 
 
 The busy throng are hurrying on 
 To their tasks of day. 
 US 
 
Oh I pray that each may live, 
 So that when the final task is done 
 They may gain the glory 
 Of the Everlasting One ! 
 
 i fe 
 
 To-day is market day, 
 And I'm all in a flutter 
 
 With such a tub of butter ! 
 
 Harmony, harmony, oh what bliss 
 
 Is thus obtained. 
 I pray all success to the new Club list, 
 
 And may harmony always reign. 
 
 Well, my love, I feel that thou must rest thee 
 
 For the night is far along, 
 
 And thou must be up and doing, 
 
 Bright and early in the morn. 
 
 So good night, my love, 
 
 And that thy dreams may be of song! 
 
 I only wish that I could rest thee, dear 
 In these tender arms of mine ! 
 I would love thee dear, if thy soul permits of 
 mine. 
 
 Roses are dreams of God's bliss. 
 
 The clearest running water is not more pure 
 Than my love for you. 
 116 
 
It rushes, and circles, and swirls 
 In an ecstasy of love for you. 
 
 You will shortly come to a turning of the ways 
 And on its decision rests your crown. 
 Fear not, you will be guided to the right. 
 Put forth all your force of love and truth, 
 And you will wear the crown. 
 
 In the morning's light 
 
 All dark shadows flee. 
 
 So with all our troubled thoughts 
 
 If we turn them unto thee. 
 
 Thine eyes are deep wells of love, 
 Filling all with ineffable delight. 
 
 The mists of purple are floating 
 
 From o'er the sea, 
 Bringing an exquisite melody, 
 From all the water fairies, 
 
 Dancing there so free. 
 
 My love is in a most entrancing place, 
 Right on the cheek of a darling face. 
 Such a dear, sweet face, 
 Radiant with all love and grace. 
 
 The morning sun is breaking 
 Into a beauteous day. 
 117 
 
I shall try to live in harmony 
 With all the little things of life. 
 I pray my day will end 
 In bringing all my soul to light, 
 To light of God's eternal love. 
 
 Shading, shading, just a little here, 
 And just a little there, 
 Would bring so much beauty 
 Into so many paths of life. 
 
 I love my love, like a wild, wild rose, 
 She is so sweet and untamed, 
 She sheds a light so far, so bright, 
 That all are drawn to the flame. 
 
 Thou art the dearest thing that ever lived, 
 So sweet, so tried, so true. 
 
 Oh the entrancing beauty of the woods. 
 Such deep mysteries hidden in every nook. 
 Such a world of wealth of flowers, 
 Hidden in each glade, dear dainty messengers, 
 Of God's love and grace. 
 
 Mysteries and hidden things, 
 Are always entrancing. 
 
 118 
 
Love, love, is one sweet song, 
 Until something comes along 
 And causes a lull in the song ! 
 
 The sun is getting high, 
 
 The heat increases with the day, 
 
 But you my dear are in a spot of rare delight. 
 
 For such a way the breeze does blow, 
 
 That all is cool and calm and light. 
 
 I will write of wonders of the coming genera- 
 tion, 
 They have only just begun to fly, 
 But shortly will increase their speed and light, 
 And into other worlds shall fly. 
 
 The merry little dancers, 
 Flitting to and fro, 
 Are so happy and so joyous, 
 That to me, so far outgrown 
 All such childish play, 
 Sigh and sigh for childhood, 
 Happy, happy days. I would that all 
 Might keep the childish spirit of dancing, 
 To all their work, and play. 
 
 There on a mountain I shall stand 
 And watch with eager eyes 
 For signs of coming dawn, 
 
 119 
 
The dawn of light to souls 
 Now steeped in sin. 
 
 The light will surely come, 
 My soul's intense desire to help 
 Will not be cast abroad, 
 In Vain ! 
 
 A rose of sweetness, far surpassing 
 Anything on earth, is ready now 
 To spread its perfume 
 
 Over all the world. 
 Great truths will send forth 
 In simple strain, so all may grasp 
 The meaning of the beauteousness 
 
 Of God's light. 
 
 Heartache, what do you want of me? 
 I am not ready for thee ! 
 
 O love, come and take me to thine arms, 
 My soul is hungry for thy face. 
 Come my love, delay not till the morning 
 Or perchance my heart will break. 
 
 Baby, darling little baby, 
 Mother's love go with thee always. 
 If thy life be one of pleasure or of strife. 
 Where'er thy path may lead thee 
 My love shall always follow. 
 1 20 
 
Come in the evening, when the sun has set 
 And the duties are put aside. 
 We then can rest in peace and talk 
 Of all the things of life. 
 
 Will you come with me? 
 And in my land you'll see, 
 Such a wealth of beauty, 
 Love and poetry, 
 
 That your soul will not descend. 
 
 Idly sitting on the sand 
 
 Where the earth and ocean meet, 
 
 My soul flies out to other lands. 
 
 I can picture, oh such scenes 
 In the ages past and gone, 
 Scenes of grandeur and of storm. 
 
 O'er the fields the mists are stealing 
 As the evening falls in shade, 
 Gladly then I take me to the trysting place 
 To gather thoughts of love and grace, 
 That I may, on the coming day 
 Bear my trials with patience, and with faith 
 That all my trials are given with a wisdom 
 Far beyond my comprehension, to develop 
 All my Powers ; so that as my life draws on, 
 I shall stand, a rugged tower, high, free, 
 And pointing straight to Heaven. 
 121 
 
Fear, go 'way, far into the dark, dark night. 
 I have not even a little corner for thee 
 To rest thy flight. 
 
 Cherry blossoms, all pure and white, 
 Apple blossoms, pink and light, 
 What beautiful messengers thou art! 
 Thou dost tell of the coming of thy fruit, 
 Which is luscious and fine in every part. 
 All touched and toned by nature's finest art. 
 O thou dear fruit blossoms, 
 Thine is such a dainty part. 
 
 There is a flag of victory waving for thee. 
 Dost thou not see it? Brave, and free? 
 O, my soul, it is for thee ! 
 
 Such a love will come to thee, 
 With the dawning of another year, 
 Of flowers, warmth and sunshine bright. 
 Thou wilt be enwrapped in a cloud 
 Of peace and delight. 
 
 Sweet ho, sweet ho, where are you going 
 
 In such haste? Wait and I will join you. 
 
 Is your quest for a bonnet, gown, or something 
 
 fair 
 For my lady to wear, or only some candy, 
 A five o'clock tea, of which I can share 
 
 122 
 
And whisper words of love when the waiters are 
 not there. 
 
 Yonder lies a body, cold, rigid, 
 For the soul has gone. 
 And no more will that body be swayed 
 By passion, lust, or desire for gain. 
 The soul will be amazed 
 By the vast eternity to which it has flown. 
 But once it gains the power 
 It will advance to realms almost unknown, 
 So high! 
 
 There stands a patient figure, 
 
 Holding forth a hand. 
 
 Wilt thou not extend a welcome? 
 
 Forgive and forget the wrongs once done 
 
 To thee. They came not so much from a heart 
 
 As from a head swayed by the crowd 
 
 Of unreal things, that surged so high, 
 
 That for a time thy beauty and goodness 
 
 Were entirely lost to view. 
 
 But now he yearns for thee and would prove 
 
 A friend indeed, good, tried and true. 
 
 Hollow, hollow, rings the sound, 
 All is mockery, in and around, 
 Be thou not decoyed, 
 
 Hollow, hollow, is their sound. 
 
 123 
 
Thou art in a maze, 
 
 And it will need much turning 
 
 And studying, for thee to emerge 
 
 Once more, into the clear straight paths. 
 
 Peace, like a river, shall flow on through thy 
 life. 
 
 Taking all the strife; and thou shah rest con- 
 tent. 
 
 With thy portion in life. 
 
 A mighty man will fall right soon. 
 Sudden and short will come his doom. 
 There will he much mourning, pomp and show. 
 Hut very few hearts will break or heads bow 
 low. 
 
 There will soon be much dissatisfaction 
 
 With the heads of the land. 
 
 Their doings will he talked of 
 
 And noticed, in other lands. 
 
 Thy personal schemes will round out well. 
 
 And thy funds will swell ; 
 
 For Dame Fortune has concluded to smile on 
 
 thee. 
 So watch for the sign that will be shortly shown 
 
 to thee. 
 
 Ah inc. what is this strange sight I see. 
 The ocean rises like a mighty tower 
 And breaks upon the land, and it is no more ! 
 i-4 
 
Thy ship Is anchored safe and firm. 
 Thou dosl no1 need to fear the storm. 
 
 Thou canst ride at will on the ocean's broad ex 
 
 pan/:, 
 And always thou wilt find a port in every storm. 
 
 On a lonely hill there stands a cottage 
 
 I .' -ilerl in a wealth of vines. 
 
 Surrounded by a garden of exquisite flowers. 
 
 The trees are fine and rare, 
 
 'I he walk', are shaded, cool, 
 
 And fruit is growing everywhere. 
 
 'I here is a little brook, runs through 
 
 The ore hard fair. Wouldn't you and 1 
 
 Just love to be there. 
 
 I low we'd revel in the flower,, 
 
 And walk the shaded paths, 
 
 Enjoying the luscious fruits 
 
 And to dream by the brook. 
 
 There is a river of ice and snow 
 That will shortly overflow. 
 One more scene of disaster and woe. 
 The strike that now is in full swing 
 Will be lashed to a fury, 
 And then out of the ruins will spring 
 A vast new system, that will bring harmony, 
 And peace to all. 
 
 'I he night is wild. I shiver 
 And draw my sable robes close, close. 
 125 
 
Alas, I cannot warm my heart. 
 
 It seems to freeze, and also I 
 
 In every part. What can be the trouble 
 
 With this heart ? Has it run its course ? 
 
 Ah me, I fear this night 
 
 Will see it laid to rest, and I fly, 
 
 Where God shall deem it best. 
 
 Ten little toes, pink and white, 
 
 Ten chubby little fingers, 
 
 O such a darling mite. 
 
 He is mother's precious darling boy 
 
 All right. Saucy little face 
 
 And snubby little nose, 
 
 With a rosebud mouth, in which 
 
 He tries to put his little pink toes. 
 
 The name of this baby, who knows ? 
 
 Ah Rome, my beautiful Rome ! 
 
 A great plague will scourge thy land 
 
 And thou wilt be besieged 
 
 By enemies, on every hand. 
 
 Oh Rome, Rome, my best beloved land ! 
 
 O my love, I come to thee 
 In the softly dawning day, 
 And so gently, gently, 
 Soothe thy cares away. 
 
 126 
 
The morn's bright light is breaking 
 And it brings the promise 
 
 Of a rare and beauteous day. 
 
 Tone! Toning! O what harmony toning can 
 bring into our lives. 
 
 The water sprites are dancing 
 On the waves of beauteous blue. 
 The dainty little fairies of the sea! 
 
 Sadness, fly away! 
 
 We have no room for you. 
 
 You must find some other home 
 
 Where there is nothing else to do. 
 
 All this strife, it wears my soul. 
 All these heavy, sordid thoughts 
 Break thy harmony divine, 
 And cast me down, far down, 
 So that I do but repine. 
 
 My soul is seared by resentful, angry thoughts, 
 My heart is bruised and torn apart, 
 By those for whom I have stood. 
 O how I long to rest in Thine arms, my God, 
 To know only harmony, in thy beautiful world, 
 Where the sun doth ever shine; and all the at- 
 mosphere 
 
 127 
 
Is laden with Thy love, divine. 
 
 O my God, come and take me to be Thine. 
 
 Love like thine can transform 
 The most sordid individual, 
 
 Into a pleasing companion. 
 
 Light as a feather floating in the air, 
 
 Comes a message. Dost thou wish to put it 
 forth 
 
 So that all may read ? 'Tis like the written mes- 
 sage 
 
 On the wall; it will bring disaster to all. 
 
 But I would say ere another month 
 
 To turn thy face from the wall of water, 
 
 That will break upon the shore ; 
 
 For after the break, the shore will be no more. 
 
 Sunlight on the water, and a merry wind, 
 
 Which doth so gaily play; 
 
 Until lost at the wonder of her power, 
 
 Sad havoc doth she create in a day. 
 
 Mighty boats she will lay right low 
 
 And cities will vanish as in a dream, 
 
 When at the height of her power she doth 
 blow, 
 
 This merry wind which did dance with the sun- 
 light 
 
 On the water! 
 
 128 
 
Smile, or perchance thy soul will saddened grow, 
 And thy thoughts will be dark and low. 
 Hovering always near the ground, 
 In the shade that thy soul casts around. 
 
 Keep thy head high, thy heart light, 
 Thy tongue ever witty and bright. 
 Then thy soul shall never know the meaning of 
 night. 
 
 Within thyself are all the necessary bonds 
 To bind thy heart and soul, 
 For the work of which thou hast been told. 
 All outward force does but delay thy course, 
 Look to thyself. Put thy thoughts out bright. 
 They will illumine many a dark, dark night, 
 And bring a host of souls to light of their higher 
 life. 
 
 Merrily flows the tide of the river 
 
 On which thou shalt abide. 
 
 There Fame shall nestle close beside. 
 
 Sheltering care thou must extend, 
 
 And soon thou with Fame shalt fly, 
 
 But always thou shalt return to the merry tide. 
 
 I may not bring to light new stars, 
 But perchance assist some feeble ray to grow, 
 And send forth thoughts 
 That will seem from God to flow. 
 129 
 
I am wondering if my mind will ever run on 
 
 smooth, 
 And kind shall be all thoughts that flow my 
 
 way, 
 So that only love I may absorb, 
 Until I live in God's thought above. 
 
 To me there comes a faint, wild cry : 
 Beware, beware of the elements of the air, 
 And hold thyself far from the ocean's maddened 
 roll, 
 
 For it will leave scarce a soul. 
 
 Thine own is coming to thee, straight as a dart, 
 And from o'er the sea, I hear strange tales 
 Concerning thee. Dost thou really know whom 
 
 thou art? 
 Later, astonished I think thou shalt be 
 When thy degree thou dost see, 
 Emblazoned so that the world shall know of 
 
 thee. 
 
 Well and good shall be thy days. Thy heart 
 Shall sing forth praise. Many loves will turn 
 
 to thee. 
 And at the noontide of thy life, 
 High thy glory and fame shall be. Why? 
 Because God thou dost see. 
 
 130 
 
Come, Love and whisper sweetest notes to me. 
 A song only for mine ear to hear. 
 One that to me shall be very dear. 
 
 Sing, Bird, of all the glories, as thou fliest along, 
 Thy sight, what wonders does it see. 
 The ever changing panorama of land, sky and 
 sea. 
 
 Limpid flows the waters, 
 
 Soft- and low the song runs on ; 
 
 But I cannot claim my own. I must wait 
 
 Until a rushing stream comes bounding on. 
 
 Then my sight will clearer grow, 
 
 And my thoughts o'erflow. 
 
 Out into this world they shall go. 
 
 To perchance amuse awhile, 
 
 And teach some souls their God to know. 
 
 Burden not thy soul with all these cares 
 That fly so free. Throw them far from thee, 
 And look thou only God's beauties to see. 
 
 Watch thee well the next coming month. 
 See that thy plans are laid firm and secure. 
 Thou wilt need a head free from indecision, 
 And all thy powers alert, so that thine enemies 
 May be placed right low, and to thee 
 Shall bow as they go, out from thy life and sight, 
 And then peace shalt thou know. 
 131 
 
Rest, rest, rest. Thou thy soul must rest. 
 Later, O how thou shalt be blest. 
 But now, thou must rest. 
 
 Thou must guard thy life well. 
 Give not of thy forces in the coming winter spell. 
 But rather hide thyself in a charming 
 Summer dell. There new thoughts will come to 
 
 thee, 
 Which later the world shall see. 
 And O how blessed thou shalt be. 
 
 Oft the contrary winds do blow 
 
 And we are tossed and turned, and know not 
 
 Which way to go. But above and below 
 
 These winds that blow, 
 
 Are clear straight paths that thy guides do 
 
 know. 
 So rest thy soul and let the contrary winds blow. 
 
 My soul is wildly tossed, as in a tempest high. 
 
 My body answers to the call, and Lo! 
 
 I am one burning, quivering mass 
 
 And with every moment its intensity doth grow. 
 
 And in passion's arms my life, 
 
 Oblivious to all, and then my soul to God 
 
 doth go. 
 There flow my strongest thoughts, 
 My widest schemes do grow. Who shall say 
 We need not passion to drive our lives on their 
 
 upward bent. 
 
 132 
 
How else would the streams that flow through 
 
 us have vent? 
 God in his wisdom ordained all things 
 And only man's views make them seem unclean. 
 
 The gleams of light that travel far 
 
 On the ocean of life, 
 
 Bring to thee much of the strife, 
 
 Which thou must blot outright, 
 
 By thy hidden force of love and might. 
 
 Thy soul hath chosen well. Unto thee 
 
 Shall come a life, 
 
 Which thou shalt live out, firm and bright. 
 
 My mind is laid on a scheme, so wild, 
 So fraught with danger. 
 Deep, dark, will be my paths 
 But to what a glorious garden 
 Will I emerge at last. 
 
 When On High thou dost stand, 
 The secret of life thou shalt know. 
 It will flow on through ages, 
 The source or vibrations. 
 Men may study and work to seize life 
 In their grasp — but only those 
 Who have passed beyond the gay whirl 
 Of life's reign here, 
 Are permitted to know, see, hear, 
 And feel God ! 
 
 133 
 
Dreams are floating in the air. Catch one 
 If thou canst — and from it evolve a theme 
 On which to form thy play. 
 The one that is to bring thee forth to light of 
 
 day. 
 Come, catch one, whilst thou may. 
 
 There dwelt in a castle 
 
 A knight bold, and eager for the fray. 
 
 He wandered into other lands, 
 
 And there met a maiden who did him sway, 
 
 And bend to her will. 
 
 He fought her battles, brave and true, 
 
 And she, what cared she? Only on his aid 
 
 She drew. He never dreaming 
 
 That her soul was dross, 
 
 Lavished his love and gained his cross. 
 
 Then began a new era in the history of her 
 
 throne. 
 This queen he had made his own. 
 Revels high were held, 
 Lovers by the score were melded. 
 With head held high, but heart ready 
 To droop and die, walked this queen's consort, 
 Ever courteous, ever true, he commanded 
 A respect for his queen that was not her due. 
 Before the mad revel and many lovers had come, 
 A daughter was to him born, 
 An embodiment of love divine, 
 In her eyes did shine, a light that was not of 
 
 earth. 
 Daily he watched her grow, 
 134 
 
And at the first, wee toddling steps, 
 
 It seemed his heart would o'erflow, 
 
 With grateful love and thanks to God, 
 
 For this dainty little flower that was 
 
 In his garden of weeds to grow. 
 
 The years colled on, scandal after scandal 
 
 Breathed high, and at last his queen did die, 
 
 Thrown from a horse on a wild ride 
 
 At a time when his will she defied. 
 
 Another page to turn in the history of the throne. 
 
 Another era begun, but this time ruled 
 
 By one. of God's own; for the King Consort 
 
 His flower had kept, as dainty and sweet 
 
 As when from God her soul had crept, 
 
 Into his poor drooping heart, 
 
 And which to his life was new courage to impart, 
 
 To enable him to play his hand with all his art. 
 
 And the kingdom to retain for his daughter's 
 
 later part. 
 For the queen, with no restraining hand 
 Would have scattered her powers far o'er the 
 
 land, 
 And have left her throne so weak 
 That at the thrust of a sword, 
 Deep down would have gone the crown, 
 And its book of history closed forevermore. 
 The new queen ruled the land so fair, 
 Guided and guarded by her father's hand, every- 
 where. 
 Ceaseless in his watchful care, 
 Lest her foot should strike a snare. 
 
 135 
 
Many lovers wound their way, but none found 
 
 favor 
 In her sight — no, not they. 
 Till one came along with a laurel leaf, and one 
 Of bay. He stood for all that was true, 
 And his sword that now was sheathed, 
 Would flash at the first call of the trumpet, 
 And side by side with his men would he fight, 
 Till the battle was won, for victory 
 Ever was his. A fine trio they made, 
 Three souls that acted as one. 
 And their glorious fame that has lived through 
 
 ages, 
 Not only for one. So with all deeds 
 That are well done. They live, grow, 
 And finally form a foundation 
 Upon which other true souls can build their 
 
 castles 
 Of fame. Only the good and true 
 Can stand the test. Others are blown out 
 As a small flame, and that is the end of their 
 
 fame. 
 
 The cords of love that bound thee to a duty 
 Are rent in twain ; cut by a hand that rules the 
 
 world, 
 And will by thee always stand. 
 And soon shall guide thee to another land. 
 Where thy highest hopes will realize. 
 Thou shalt be honored, thy health will restore, 
 And then thou shalt labor for thy God evermore. 
 
 136 
 
I have such a feeling of care and trouble, 
 And a fear, as of despair, is in the air. 
 What mean all these rumblings and mutterings, 
 These high black clouds that roll out from every- 
 where. 
 They make me shiver ; and pray that I 
 Shall be delivered from the stones that shortly 
 
 will fly 
 And cause many to die. . . . 
 
 There stands to thee on the coming days 
 
 A power with which thou shalt sway the world 
 
 Thy way, and by thy side it shall always stay. 
 
 Give forth thy song, 
 Shout out to the hurrying throng, 
 The beauties of thy sight, 
 As thou walkest along. 
 
 The glorious lights that are now withheld 
 
 Will soon shine forth, 
 
 And in their rays thou shalt stand, 
 
 A figure bold and straight, 
 
 Upheld by thy God; and of thee none shall say 
 
 One word, but of love and praise. 
 
 I see a milk white horse. 
 Its trappings of gold are glistening 
 In the sunlight, waiting for a rider, 
 To take on a journey that will last 
 137 
 
Far into the night, 
 
 Out on the desert beyond the light so bright. 
 The rider so tall and straight, 
 Bears thee a message full of love, 
 And plans for thy future fate. 
 Canst thou see into the night so dark? 
 And beyond the first faint glow 
 Of the morning's light? that will break 
 Into a glorious day, when thou shalt ride 
 By thy lover's side, out on the desert wild, 
 Thou, his bride. 
 
 Darling soul, I wish thou in mine arms did rest, 
 
 Thy head upon my breast. 
 
 Thy soul pouring out to mine, sweetest strains 
 
 That God has given thee from the best. 
 
 Thou hast been blest. Thy life has broadened 
 
 out 
 Into spheres wide and grand. 
 Thou hast power to control the land, 
 If thou wouldst form a band. But alas, 
 Thou art far too modest in thine estimate of 
 
 self, 
 And always in the shadow thou dost stand. 
 Soon the sunlight will play upon thy figure bold, 
 And God shall wrap thee in a cloak of gold, 
 So that dazzling lightness thou shalt send, 
 Into every heart that unto thee shall bend. 
 
 My darling, I have stayed from thee right long, 
 But now I must see thy face, 
 
 138 
 
Feel thy soul so dear, and give thee some 
 Bright words of cheer. 
 
 Love, come, out with me, 
 And we shall wander by the lea. 
 Content just to wander, 
 You and me. 
 
 Before me stands a stately crowned head, 
 
 But sad the face, and sadder yet the heart, 
 
 For soon his country will see an overflow, 
 
 And all his people scattered far and wide. 
 
 His throne, one of the oldest of the land, 
 
 And upon whom nature had seemed to shower 
 
 All her blessings of power, wealth, 
 
 And knighthood grand. Now alas, 
 
 It has not long to stand. 
 
 For a mighty revolution will occur. 
 
 All the old traditions will be scattered 
 
 To the air, and class be trodden down. 
 
 Hence the sadness of this his kingly soul, 
 
 Who weeps and prays for his country as a whole. 
 
 Silver bells are ringing gaily, 
 
 O'er the land the strains of music flow, 
 
 In a gay, triumphant march. 
 
 Loud and long the cheers do ring, 
 
 And the cry : " Hail thou mighty King," 
 
 Shall rend the air. 
 
 139 
 
Glistening, Glistening, 
 
 Are the thoughts that now come forth. 
 
 All, on the sky is written, 
 By the angels as they fly; 
 And if thou dost watch 
 It shall be for thee to cry. 
 The first wild breath of beauty, 
 That shall float on the air 
 Will come from thy soul 
 And permeate everywhere. 
 
 Thou art so pure, sweetest grace is thine, 
 I would thy soul compel, to accept of mine. 
 
 Sing only of thy love, 
 
 Then thy song will float above. 
 
 Perchance thou shalt win a crown, 
 
 Wear it in full sight of those that come around. 
 
 Thou hast forgotten even my name? 
 Is it not sad to be of so little fame? 
 
 Behold yon warrior, in all his grace of form. 
 A descendant of the mighty Vikings he, 
 Who trod the earth full many a year, 
 And conquered all his foes, 
 Of every nation that has been told : 
 140 
 
Now bends his head in sorrow that is sad to be- 
 hold. 
 
 Out of the mists comes forth a song, 
 
 Radiant with glory as it rolls along. 
 
 Dazzling in its lightness and brightness 
 
 This song of a thousand songs! 
 
 This song of songs, as it flows along, 
 
 Renews the brightness of God in hearts gone 
 
 wrong. 
 It enriches the lives of those who weep and toil, 
 It touches" the hearts of those who smile; 
 This radiant burst of song, that comes 
 From God's Garden, where only exquisite themes 
 Are born, from the flowers of love, pure love! 
 These from the song of a thousand songs. 
 
 There will be a rifting of the clouds, 
 
 That now hang low and gray. 
 
 Life's rosy tints will come forth strong to stay 
 
 And all thy burdens fall away. 
 
 For a cavalcade of horsemen are to guard thy 
 
 life 
 Until its last, long drawn-out day. 
 They are fair and gay of attire, 
 And all come of princely sires. 
 They will bear thy life out into the world, and 
 
 thee, 
 The position to which thou hast always aspired. 
 Soon, ah soon, the Glorious Sun, 
 Will burst through thy dark, dark night, 
 141 
 
And thou shalt stand forth in its radiant light, 
 A figure bold, strong, and ever ready for the 
 right. 
 
 Come, honey, come, be bright! 
 
 My soul shall watch o'er thee 
 
 Through the long, dark night. 
 
 And when the morn shall dawn so fair and 
 
 bright, 
 We shall wander forth to a day of delight. 
 Hand in hand, heart to heart, 
 My steps shall lead thee to a dell of glorious 
 
 art, 
 Woven by the fairies of night ; 
 Just for thee and me, my heart's delight, 
 Come, honey, do be bright! 
 
 This to thee on thy day of birth. 
 Henceforth may thy life be one of mirth; 
 Till thou shalt enter thy new birth, 
 To dwell with thy God, far above this earth. 
 
 Sweets to thee on this, thy day of birth. 
 May all thy forces join in one grand song, 
 So that on its rhythm thou mayest be carried 
 
 along, 
 Till thy life flow out into their song. 
 
 Here is to thy health ! 
 
 To thy wealth, and peace, 
 All thy days long! 
 142 
 
There is a plot to undermine the world. 
 The Roman Catholic Church will rise in might 
 And down will go all our most precious lights. 
 Felled by a relentless hand, and followed 
 By an enormous band, who will crush everything 
 In its way. Caring not, till they stand, 
 Flushed with victory, in every part of the land. 
 Then they will sing a Te Deum, and reign, 
 Victors until they are attacked by another band, 
 Led by a general who knows how to command. 
 Then will ensue a long, long fight, 
 To extend through years, until the Roman 
 
 Catholic Church 
 Takes its flight. For this general, 
 Once he takes command, never ceases 
 Until they yield to his demands. 
 
 What can heal like love ? 
 What can make the sun to shine, 
 Even though the rains do fall, 
 Love, Love, Love! 
 
 Every line that is written by Love 
 For Love, with Love, 
 Carries healing in every letter, 
 Both to the soul and to the body, 
 And shall live forever. 
 
 Soon, ah soon, ah me ! Many people shall stand 
 Upon a land, laughing, talking, riding, working, 
 walking. 
 
 143 
 
Sorrow and joy, hand in hand. When suddenly 
 
 the land 
 Will disappear from sight, taking with it the 
 
 people, 
 Ere they can make the slightest flight. 
 Such is the fate of the land in a night. 
 'Twixt morn and night, a river shall rise, like a 
 
 wall. 
 It will spring to the skies, to fall 
 With a roar and a rush upon the land, 
 And there will be a terrible hush, when not a 
 
 soul 
 Will be left, after its mad, mad rush. 
 Electrical storms will burst in the very centre 
 
 of the earth, 
 And play with such intensity, that many will be 
 
 seared 
 And scarred, and the air will vibrate with 
 
 prayers to God 
 To spread his mercies abroad, and lift this ter- 
 rible cloud 
 That seems to have settled on all the land. 
 
 More strength have I for the battle 
 That is to be fought. 
 I can see the victory in the distant sky. 
 Beyond the smoke of battle flies a flag 
 Held on high. It is to me an emblem, 
 That my final victory is nigh. 
 
 144 
 
The wind is blowing, blowing, blowing, 
 
 A cloud of fine feathery flakes, 
 
 Which will gradually settle into a wall 
 
 Of white, hard snow, which the sun cannot melt 
 
 Or the waters through it flow. 
 
 This will happen in an Eastern land, 
 
 Which has never known snow. 
 
 The climate will change, and the weather 
 
 Much colder grow, in this land, 
 
 Which so far has been without snow. 
 
 All that I hold dear is gone, 
 
 On the wings of the wind. The things 
 
 I have dreamed and longed for, 
 
 Have flown another way. My plans 
 
 And best laid schemes have vanished, 
 
 As if a magic hand had touched with a fairy 
 
 wand, 
 So light I could not see or feel; 
 But they have gone, and in their place 
 New problems face me, bold and strong. 
 No fine intent of mine can banish these problems 
 Of thine, which thou hast put before mine eyes, 
 And by my side; and I know that until I solve 
 
 them, 
 
 They will with me abide. 
 
 Tossing in a fitful state, 
 
 I wonder what is to be my fate? 
 
 To plod and climb, to make a misstep, 
 
 Then again to climb? 
 
 145 
 
Is this to be my life, all the time ? 
 
 Thy plodding and thy climbing 
 
 Are at an end, for soon thy state will mend, 
 
 And thou shalt have blessings without end. 
 
 My good friend, I am on a lecture bent, 
 
 Thou wilt not like its intent, 
 
 And perhaps thy soul will not relent. 
 
 But I shall give thee no peace of mind, 
 
 Until thou hast taken the time 
 
 To put thy affairs as I would mine. 
 
 Here's to your health, to your wealth, 
 
 Your peace of mind ; and may you answer my 
 
 call, 
 To become one of our kind. 
 
 A war is rushing, on at an alarming pace. 
 There is going to be a wholesale killing some- 
 where. 
 
 Across a sea of trouble spans a bridge 
 
 Very narrow, and much traveled. It were well 
 
 To have it widened, for soon, ah soon, 
 
 An army will attempt the crossing, 
 
 Then will follow dire disaster, death, and much 
 
 woe, 
 And the sea of trouble will o'erflow. 
 Not a trace of the bridge will be left below 
 In the seething waters of trouble and woe. 
 
 146 
 
A flying machine I see in the air, 
 
 And suddenly it turns and comes down with a 
 
 crash 
 And its occupants, to the number of four, 
 Shall be no more. 
 
 Dost thou know the power of love, 
 
 Dost thou know the power of hate? 
 
 Thou hast been much in its embrace, of late. 
 
 Has it cleared thy sight? Has it sharpened 
 
 Thy sense of God and his might? 
 
 If so, thou hast gained a power for life. 
 
 If not, thou shalt still dwell in strife. 
 
 I see a tiny child, toddling o'er my way. 
 
 He lays a flower in my hand, 
 
 And his eyes they seem to say, 
 
 " I am come to lead thee to a higher way." 
 
 Dare I trust this tiny toddler to lead my way? 
 
 Then I see a dove of purest white, 
 
 That by his side doth stay; and I know 
 
 He is just a little angel 
 
 That God hath set upon my way. 
 
 A Knight of the Way, and by thee he shall stay, 
 Until a name thou hast gained in the world of 
 
 play. 
 He loves thee right well, but his name he will not 
 
 tell. 
 
 H7 
 
I have such a wild longing to fly 
 Far o'er the mountain tops, 
 There to rest till my soul shall cry " Away." 
 Then back to my nest I shall go, 
 And very much shall I appreciate 
 The treasures that from which I once did fly 
 To a wider home in the sky ! 
 
 Oh my darling, smile! And throw dull care 
 
 away. 
 Be thou bright and happy, happy as the day. 
 Dream only of thy pleasure, in the gayest way 
 In which my love shall guide thee. 
 Crush this sordid thought from out thy soul, 
 And dream thou only of thy final goal, 
 Which is one of wealth, honor and fame, 
 In which thou shalt bear a very high name. 
 
 Haste thee, for thy time is short. 
 Put all thine affairs as thou ought. 
 Draw thy strands together 
 And weld them into a fine wide chain 
 That will not bend or sever. 
 
 On the deck of a steamer coming rapidly toward 
 
 the shore, 
 Is a man of lordly mien. He towers high as 
 
 this world calls wealth. 
 To thee he brings a message, that on the other 
 
 side 
 
 148 
 
There is an opportunity, oh so wide, for thy 
 
 business to extend, 
 Aye, even to the world's end. He will talk with 
 
 thee, 
 And with thy friends, and a new hope shall 
 
 spring alive. 
 Thou wilt not be bound by any cord. 
 
 The wind and the rain, they gather in force 
 
 And break with a might. Everything goes be- 
 fore, 
 
 Even as a feather is wafted from shore to shore. 
 
 From whence cometh the force that drives it on 
 its course? 
 
 Dost thou know? Study thy life from day to 
 day, 
 
 And soon thou shalt discover the force of all 
 things, 
 
 And thou wilt be able to drag it from under 
 cover. 
 
 Then thou shalt be called a great discoverer. 
 
 Be thou not discouraged 
 
 If thou fly very high or very low ; 
 
 For always close to thy God thou shalt go. 
 
 I stand and clasp my hands in hushed fear. 
 
 What is this deadening noise I hear? 
 
 A mighty rock, the ocean's size 
 
 Has fallen from the skies, and struck the earth 
 
 Fair in its midst, 
 
 149 
 
Forming a new foundation for another world, 
 In place of the wreck which around it lies. 
 
 I wonder what could hold him? 
 Never a country, never a city; 
 Never a woman, nor one plan of life. 
 He must always be up and doing, 
 In the midst of the strife. 
 
 Such a world to grasp and conquer, 
 
 Such a field to wander far ; such a river 
 
 So wide and clear, upon which I my bark shall 
 
 steer, 
 Safe to a port of rest and love, 
 Where all my desires shall be realized. 
 There I shall stand and hold my prize, 
 Which comes of the power to see my God in 
 
 the skies. 
 
 Oh my love, daily do I dream of thee. 
 At night my soul wanders out through the woods, 
 Calling, calling for thee. 
 But alas, thy face I cannot see. 
 Oh my love, when shall I rest with thee? 
 To be one with thy form so fair, 
 To draw thy life and mine 
 In one great glorious bond of love 
 And harmony divine. For thou, my love, 
 Thou art mine ! 
 
 150 
 
A chill, as of death, is creeping o'er my body. 
 My soul starts; it knows not what to fear, 
 But the chill and the hush make it go with a 
 
 rush, 
 And alas, my poor body is all that lies here. 
 I am hovering over it in wonder. Was this my 
 
 earthly home? 
 It shows the signs of many cares and sorrows. 
 It was a heavy burdensome thing, but still I cling, 
 Loath to leave it, lying there so cold, 
 And alas, so alone. 
 
 mighty ancient Rome, would that I could 
 
 rule thee now! 
 
 1 would place upon thy head a crown of jewels 
 Rare and fine, and thy streets would flow with 
 
 wine. 
 Oh my Rome, Rome, would that I had stood by 
 
 my throne; 
 But the gods played me false, and when I had 
 
 conquered 
 And stood on high, they gathered me up to the 
 
 skies ; 
 From where I have watched thy progress with 
 
 untiring eye. 
 Thy doom that is to come, I cannot avert. 
 Thou wilt not be guided by my whispered com- 
 mands 
 To leave other lands and cling to thine own. 
 Thou desirest to spread. Dost thou not know 
 
 it means 
 
 I5i 
 
Thy death? Oh Rome, Rome, could I but save 
 thee now ! 
 
 If I entreat, wilt thou not listen ? 
 
 If I beg and implore, remember it is thy Caesar 
 
 Who founded thee legions o'er. Oh Rome, 
 Rome, 
 
 List to my voice. It is one of love, and I im- 
 plore, 
 
 Turn from thy present plan, to conquer the 
 world. 
 
 Thou wilt remember this when thou art no more. 
 Oh Rome, Rome, Rome. 
 
 Down, my lady, down thou must go. 
 
 It is thine Octavius that tells thee so. 
 
 Down, my lady, down. Beware, 
 
 For thou hast foes that would crush thee so. 
 
 I by thy side will stay, 
 
 And my sword shall be raised at the last streak 
 
 of day. 
 For at night I must watch thy way. 
 It is not safe for thee to travel in the dark, 
 But thou must be up, and away with the lark 
 To rest again, ere it is dark. 
 I have routed a foe that would have this day 
 
 stung 
 And pierced thy heart with many a dart. 
 My love and my sword shall attend thy way. 
 This from thy knight of the Laurel Wreath, 
 And one of bay! 
 
 152 
 
Merry laughter greets my ears, 
 
 Sparkling sunshine in which there is no trace of 
 
 tears. 
 Birds of sweetest song, carrying their notes of 
 
 beauty 
 All along. In a garden of beauty untold. 
 This is where thou, my love, must unfold. 
 
 Little footsteps marching on, 
 
 Little hands groping in the dark, 
 
 Little hearts throbbing with a world of wonder 
 
 At the sights they see, 
 
 Oh how large the garden seems to be. 
 
 Shadowy corners are worlds to explore, 
 
 But once they are out on the great highway, 
 
 Their dreams are o'er, 
 
 And the garden shrinks until it is no more. 
 
 At the eventide there will flow to thee 
 
 On the crest of a wave, 
 
 A tiny pearl of thought. 
 
 It will increase in value as the years roll on. 
 
 Later, ah much later, 
 
 A fine harvest from this tiny thought 
 
 Thou shalt reap. 
 
 I am in a maze. I know that one straight path 
 Will lead me clear ; but as yet it does not appear. 
 One turn and I am free. But Oh, which way 
 
 Shall that turn be ! 
 
 153 
 
A storm is coming with sudden swiftness 
 
 That will bend and break the strongest trees. 
 
 Travel not in crafts that are frail, 
 
 And watch thee well for the first signs of hail. 
 
 Then take thy way to a sheltered spot, 
 
 Or thou wilt not live another day, 
 
 This from thy knight of the way, 
 
 With the laurel wreath, and one of bay. 
 
 There will come a time, if I do my duty other- 
 wise, 
 The lights will always stay; if I obey 
 The higher laws, and put thoughts of self away, 
 The world will follow and by me stay. 
 For pure unselfishness is always rewarded this 
 way. 
 
 To the West, to the West, to the West, 
 
 Fly my thoughts so free. 
 
 There on the wings of the wind, 
 
 Are marvelous things to see, 
 
 In the far wild West of liberty. 
 
 There thy plans will mold and grow, 
 
 Not shut in by a mountain, no, oh no! 
 
 But free and wild, in the far, far West, 
 
 There thou shalt accomplish thy very best. 
 
 I shall take thee in mine arms 
 And lull thee off to rest, 
 With thy head pillowed on my breast. 
 I shall croon sweet songs of love to thee, 
 154 
 
So that in thy dreams thou shalt see, 
 Only love and what it brings to thee, 
 Sweetheart mine, from o'er the sea. 
 
 Wiggle waggle, wiggle waggle, goes the bobbin- 
 
 ette 
 Making lace, the finest yet. 
 Steer thy ships on the plan of the bobbinette, 
 Wiggle waggle, wiggle waggle, in and out 
 Goes the shuttle, all to a count. 
 Thus are the finest laces made by the most 
 
 simple process out. 
 
 Floating, floating, on the waves of blue, 
 
 Is a ship that is coming straight to you. 
 
 It brings a message from one who is tried and 
 
 true, 
 And that message is only for you. 
 Floating, ever floating on the waves of blue, 
 Again that ship will come unto you. 
 She is a good ship that is staunch and true; 
 And some day later she will bear you 
 To the Elysian Fields of blue, and from there 
 You will be able to send messages 
 To others, that are tried and true. 
 Once in your life did this ship come unto you, 
 And thrice is all she is permitted to do. 
 So watch for your two messages of blue, 
 
 Both tried and true ! 
 
 ■55 
 
Thou darling of my heart, how I love thee in 
 
 every part. 
 Thy soul is so divine, it shines far into this world 
 
 of mine, 
 With a light so soft and sweet, that all great 
 
 souls are drawn, 
 
 And do it greet! 
 
 The sun is shining and the stars have gone to 
 
 rest. 
 Into thy life this day, a sorrow will wend its 
 
 way; 
 But thou must remember thy laughing song, 
 And the sting of the sorrow will be withdrawn. 
 
 On the wings of the wild wind's storm 
 Comes a message of import fine. 
 Thy store closets will soon o'erflow with wine. 
 And with milk and honey thou shalt be blessed, 
 In the coming months of the great unrest. 
 
 Jumble, jumble, jumble, so fast the thoughts do 
 
 fly 
 I can scarcely with them vie. 
 They roll and tumble, and fly up high, 
 O my, O my, I wonder why? 
 
 I could write all night, 
 
 The lights are burning bright, 
 
 They have been so lovingly tended 
 
 All this day. 
 
 156 
 
I see a dream city o'er the way. 
 
 It beckons me so, I fear I cannot stay, 
 
 But to that dream city I must away. 
 
 Castles in dreams thou hast builded 
 
 And rudely shattered will they be, 
 
 When the fruits of thy labors thou shalt see 
 
 Slowly drawn from out thy hands 
 
 By those whom thou hast trusted, 
 
 And to whom thou hast always yielded their 
 
 demands. 
 Thy soul will amazed be, when the Book of 
 
 Life 
 Thou canst see, and read the entries 
 That have been made for thee. 
 There recorded thou wilt find, the heart-beats 
 Of those whom thou hadst thought were fine. 
 Then thy soul will cry 
 
 "Why, oh why was I so blind?" 
 
 The pendulum is swinging very slowly, 
 The spring has almost run its length. 
 The hands will stop at nine, 
 For that is the appointed time. 
 
 I am so sleepy and so tired, 
 Otherwise I would with thee stay, 
 To give thee finest sights 
 
 Which thou couldst write of in thine own way. 
 But alas, my darling child, I cannot stay. 
 I am so sleepy and so tired, I must away. 
 157 
 
Sparkling are the caves far beneath the ocean 
 bed, 
 
 And cold beyond anything to compare. 
 
 Some day they will be thrown upon the top- 
 most mountain 
 
 Now on the land; and then will such treasures 
 
 Come to light, as have never been heard of, 
 
 Or seen, by" those of finest sight. 
 
 A man is sitting, with head bowed low, 
 
 Deeply thinking, seeing nothing, 
 
 Thinking of what, only God knows. 
 
 He hears strange vibrations. 
 
 What do they mean? Are they for him, 
 
 Or is he in a dream, to awake 
 
 To the same old scheme of life, 
 
 In which there are no dreams. 
 
 To-night thou shalt be told a tale most fair, 
 Thou shalt be taken high in the air. 
 The scenes thou shalt visit will stay forever 
 By thy sight, for God himself thou shalt see 
 
 On His throne of white. 
 
 Bleak is the weather and dull the skies, 
 
 But my spirits do rise and rise. 
 
 With the force of a whirlwind they seek the 
 
 skies 
 To revel and dance amid the ever-glowing beauty 
 Of the Garden of Rest, with its fountains 
 Of purest waters, spraying forth to the air. 
 
 158 
 
With its luscious fruits, and God's love every- 
 where. 
 
 Out of the depths my soul hath cried 
 
 And I am to be freed ere another sun rise. 
 
 My soul will take its flight 
 
 To rest in peace forevermore, 
 
 And with my forefathers shall I abide. 
 
 Cheer, cheer, thy skies are not all drear, 
 There -is a big expanse of blue, 
 Where the sun shines ever true, 
 And only a small gray cloud 
 
 Now hides it from you! 
 
 His spirit and his soul were fine, 
 
 But his body was weak to the influences of wine. 
 
 His morals were wide, but his heart was true, 
 And ever a kind deed he tried to do. 
 
 These messages are flashed on the air, 
 And if thou art finely attuned, 
 
 Thou shalt with them share. 
 
 Free, free, free ! Free to wander at my will, 
 To rest, to climb, to love the very ground 
 Upon which I dwell, free, free, free. 
 I want to shout it from the housetops, 
 
 159 
 
I want to sing it forth. I want to whisper it 
 So softly, and croon it as one would a lullaby, 
 
 Free, free, free! 
 
 Such an insight into life, the bud of the rose, 
 The heart of the pearl, and to the very pivot 
 On which rests this great world of love and 
 strife. 
 
 In the dimming light, all things assume a softer 
 
 might. 
 Small objects loom up bright, and mountains fade 
 
 away, 
 Far out of sight. So as the years roll on, 
 Our larger troubles take their flight, 
 And we are enabled to enjoy, what has always 
 
 been for us 
 The smaller things of life; but in reality 
 
 They are our life. 
 
 Laugh in the morning when the sun doth rise, 
 Laugh at noon when it is high in the skies. 
 Laugh at night when the sun has set 
 And the moon and stars have gone to rest. 
 Then thou must laugh thy best. 
 
 The sun will shine and the clouds all smile 
 When thou dost walk with thy lover awhile. 
 
 160 
 
Sweetheart, darling soul, 
 
 What of the tales I have been told? 
 
 They tell me thou art great 
 
 And of the beautiful things thou dost unfold. 
 
 I pray you send me a line, 
 
 That will tell me your soul rhymes with mine, 
 
 O my darling sweetheart, thou art mine! 
 
 Life will soon hold dear to thee ; 
 Into another's life thou shalt be, 
 And he will walk with thee, 
 In all love and purity ! 
 
 Thou hast been patient long 
 
 And too much unobtrusiveness and patience 
 
 Serve thee not always too well. 
 
 It were better if thou didst impress thy strength 
 
 In forceful vein, for minds are dull 
 
 To grasp the intent to which thou might be 
 
 driven 
 If they ne'er consent to place thee 
 Where thou shouldst be, only a just reward 
 For thy work which thou hast given so free. 
 
 i 
 
 Into a new life thou soon shalt merge 
 
 Thy talents, one and all, 
 
 Thou shalt walk with others of thy sect and art. 
 
 And thou shalt be the highest of them all. 
 
 Somebody? Why not thou? 
 
 Dost not think thou hast earned thy space 
 
 161 
 
In the ranks of those who have made by their 
 
 talents 
 A place full of fame, and a name? 
 
 There once was a man of so short a sight 
 That to all the beauty and sweetness 
 Of character in his wife, he turned his head 
 And looked only to the strife; and by so doing 
 He missed what might have been an ideal life. 
 
 Cultivate the beauty and admiration of one 
 
 thing. 
 There is as much enjoyment to be absorbed 
 From one rose, as from a million. 
 As much beauty to be admired, in fact in 
 
 quantity 
 We lose sight of each exquisite leaf, 
 
 And the unfolding thereof. 
 
 Cultivate a calm restful spirit, 
 All of the exquisite works of art, 
 All strong nations have been the result 
 Of long continued, quiet, calm endeavor. 
 All fine, beautiful characters 
 Are moulded by years of kind, quiet loving 
 deeds. 
 
 Calm and stately be thy walk 
 
 Through the sun and shadow light of life. 
 
 162 
 
Calm and quiet thy endeavor, peaceful thy life. 
 That at last it may merge and flow out 
 Into the golden river of God's light! 
 
 Time flieth, the wind sigheth, 
 
 And only God knows how my heart crieth. 
 
 A jig, a jig jig, goes a little high cart. 
 
 It carries the mail to many a waiting heart, 
 
 But to none more beautiful of face and form 
 
 Than Miss Polly Cathcart. 
 
 Such a merry, dancing little elf, 
 
 With a saucy little nose, and a dimple each side, 
 
 For what, goodness knows — for surely 
 
 She is pretty enough without these extra throws 
 
 Of Cupid's flinging darts. 
 
 She needs not any of his arts, 
 
 For her eyes sink deep in the manly hearts 
 
 That come within their reach. 
 
 This is Miss Polly Cathcart. 
 
 Her home is a manor of noble old parts, 
 
 With its acres far and wide. 
 
 And she is the only darling of her proud old 
 
 father's heart, 
 Is this Miss Polly Cathcart. 
 But she watches with just as eager eyes, 
 For the jig-a-jig cart, as the little maid 
 Who peeps out of the kitchen garden part 
 For this is the time of the year, when the mail 
 Is apt to bring 'most any amount of news and 
 
 good cheer. 
 
 163 
 
At last the jig-a-jig cart arrives, 
 
 With a bag of mail that makes Miss Polly gasp 
 
 with surprise. 
 The size and shape are new to her eyes. 
 O how her heart bobs up and down. 
 But alas her patience will be tried, 
 For her father has not yet returned from his 
 
 ride; 
 And no hand but his ever unlocks the bag, that 
 
 now 
 Miss Polly is sure contains a great big surprise. 
 " Bob White," " Bob White," greets her ears 
 From out the woods, and Miss Polly without 
 
 much more thought 
 To the bag of mail, flies straight to the woods 
 From out which came the call of the quail. 
 But not a sight of Tom does she see, the tor- 
 menting Tom 
 That always keeps her on the qui vive. 
 But at last she spies his head, just the other side 
 Of a great big tree — and with a cry, she darts 
 
 at Tom 
 And lost is he! But soon it is Tom's turn 
 And once he has her, she'll not soon be free. 
 Polly and Tom are lovers free, only in the woods 
 Where her father cannot see; for he does not 
 
 set Master Tom 
 As of high enough degree, for Miss Polly Cath- 
 
 cart 
 Of Cathcart Manor, and her estates so free. 
 
 164 
 
Peace, little sister, 
 To thy troubled heart. 
 The way, I know, 
 
 Looks dark. 
 
 But just a little farther on, 
 There is a turn, 
 Which will delight your eyes, 
 And heart. 
 
 The views- of all people will expand in time 
 And they will take a broader view 
 
 Across this horizon of thine. 
 
 Success is measured only by ourselves. 
 
 The most graceful thing in motion is a boat 
 of beautiful structure. 
 
 Take time! 
 Have no haste 
 
 With any earthly thing! 
 
 The falling snow is not more pure 
 than the light 
 which will shortly flood 
 the land, 
 Cleansing all the eternal 
 strife. 
 
 165 
 
Kind deeds bring one to the heart of God. 
 
 My soul is filled with the hills of everlasting 
 love. 
 
 What is it that gives color to our lives? The 
 beauty of our friendships. 
 
 Child, child, what are you doing? 
 
 You are so quiet, I fear for something. 
 
 Mischief, mischief, dear little soul, 
 
 It is all alike to you. 
 
 Busy little hands, and still busier little feet. 
 
 Sleep, gently sleep, 
 Close thy weary eyes 
 And I will lull thee 
 To a couch amid the skies. 
 
 O saucy little pansies, with your darling grace 
 And such a radiance of color, 
 As you gradually unfold such a richness all 
 your own. 
 
 O my soul, break all thy fetters. 
 Stand out clear and true, 
 Let not any earthly cloud 
 
 Roll before thy view. 
 
 166 
 
Think you I am come to make you sad? 
 No, my love, but to show you all the beauties 
 
 Of the unseen. 
 
 Kindness is the outward reflection 
 Of the beauty of one's soul. 
 
 Thou must guard thyself from the rush of 
 
 thought 
 That will come like a mighty river 
 Which has been pent and suddenly loosened. 
 It will bound, and roar and roll 
 Like unto the ocean's sound. 
 It will eddy, and circle and swirl 
 And try to carry thee on, and on, 
 To be either crushed by the way, 
 Or thrown into its final goal — 
 And there thou wouldst be lost, 
 For the waves are deep, dark and cruel! 
 
 Pure thy thoughts must be, 
 
 If thou wouldst walk with God, 
 And God with thee! 
 
 Praise the Lord my soul, sing forth thy praise 
 For his mercies, and care of thee, all thy days. 
 Thy soul must come in touch with some pure 
 
 thought 
 As a relief from all this dragging downward 
 
 trend 
 
 167 
 
That now surrounds thee in numbers without 
 end. 
 
 Come and let us wander forth 
 
 To gather of the telling Spring, 
 
 A place in which to give of all our songs. 
 
 For we are filled with a fear and dread 
 
 To give free vent, and so all our best songs 
 
 Are inward pent ! 
 
 Softly, swiftly passes the day, 
 
 Darkening, the night comes on, 
 
 But my way is always as light as the day, 
 
 For in it God doth always stay. 
 
 Give me a brave true heart, 
 Give me a soul that always smiles, 
 Even though the skies be wrought 
 With streaks of dark, blue thought. 
 
 Thy spirit is to be ladened 
 With the breath of the North Wind ; 
 Chilled for a time — but later 
 Will come all the soft azure 
 Of the sunny, southern clime! 
 
 How beautiful, how exquisite, how glorious 
 Are thy ways, O thou highest theme of love! 
 How pure are thy paths that lead to the divine 
 realms above. 
 
 168 
 
And yet so unpretentious that the smallest 
 
 thought 
 Of pure love, will lead into the very heart 
 
 Of the realms above ! 
 
 Beatific is thy love; thy soul is laden 
 
 With the pearls of love. And thy heart dost 
 
 sing 
 With all the angels of God above! 
 
 Trust in thy God, and put forth only songs of 
 
 love. 
 They will carry thee to Him, and Heaven above. 
 
 Deny not thy soul any gleam of light, 
 No matter where it may radiate from. 
 
 Power, what is power? The sense of seeing 
 
 And hearing a little clearer 
 
 Than those with whom we are surrounded. 
 
 We seldom find just the condition we have been 
 
 striving for. 
 It is either a little better or very much below 
 
 our standard. 
 
 Nirvana, thou the Mecca of my hopes, 
 I found I had not conquered all my foes. 
 When thy shores I reached, 
 
 169 
 
My fight was only just begun, and continued 
 
 Until I gained the Heavenly One. 
 
 There I found my highest hopes 
 
 And dwelt in love divine, 
 
 Which was a far finer, wider, higher love than 
 
 mine. 
 And taught me many wider schemes of life 
 All among the busy throng. 
 There was no need of drawing far apart 
 To live the higher thoughts, 
 For naught but love did count 
 And the smallest deed of kindness wrought 
 Stood for more than the prayers, fasting, 
 
 And the living apart 
 
 When we proclaim with lordly mien 
 That we can plan our lives, 
 Fate very quietly steps out, 
 And sweeps them all aside. 
 
 Thy heart will reveal to thee many mysteries, 
 Thine eyes will see strange sights, 
 Thy God will lead thee to His highest, brightest 
 light. 
 
 In the moon and starlight, 
 
 When the earth is bathed in a mystic glow, 
 
 Then thou wilt sail thy bark 
 
 Far out on the ocean of woe. 
 
 But never fear, for thy God will with thee go. 
 
 170 
 
Didst thou dream thou wast on the waters 
 In a pearly shell, filled with lotus flowers, 
 And didst thou dream thou had sailed far away, 
 And came upon an island in a gorgeous realm? 
 Here with only thy pearly shell, 
 And the few lotus flowers left from the waters' 
 
 wild swell? 
 And didst thou dream that on this island 
 Of beautiful sheen, thou didst find a treasure 
 That would forever to thee cling? 
 
 My best loved light, disturb not thy heart 
 
 With all this sad, sad flight, 
 
 Into realms of grief that are gone, 
 
 And far, far out of sight! 
 
 All my soul is wrapped in a haze of golden light 
 So that I cannot see the dark, dark night. 
 
 I see a garden, O, so fair. 
 
 It is filled with flowers fine and rare. 
 
 The walks, so cool and shaded, 
 
 Lead one everywhere, 
 
 Through this garden, that is O, so fair. 
 
 There is a fountain that throws off 
 
 Such exquisite lights, 
 
 From the waters it sprays in the air. 
 
 In this garden that is O, so fair. 
 
 I shall walk in that garden some day, 
 
 And by my side a maiden tall and fair, 
 
 171 
 
Who has spun out her life's work above 
 In that garden that is O, so fair. 
 
 Love, love, will carry thee along, 
 
 And croon thee a song, 
 
 To warm thy heart, all the way along. 
 
 Two lovers once plotted to overthrow a throne, 
 But alack, alas, the devil always claims his own. 
 
 O'er the deep blue waters wide 
 
 Comes a message that I shall gather 
 
 At the morning tide. 
 
 It will bring me news of a claim of gold 
 
 That has lain long undisturbed; 
 
 And I shall rejoice that at last, 
 
 I can with my love abide, 
 
 My love of the waters, deep and wide. 
 
 My staff I leave with thee, 
 That with it thou mayest gain 
 A firm, firm footing on the plane 
 Which thou shortly shall attain. 
 'Tis a staff of gold, and I freely 
 Give it to thee. Later thou canst return it 
 When thou hast gained, and can take thy stand, 
 
 Alone and free ! 
 
 The Ancient Three are abroad on a journey 
 to-night 
 
 172 
 
That will fill with wonder all the eyes within its 
 
 sight. 
 They would dearly love to come to thee, 
 But my Angel, it is for thee, that they are abroad 
 On their journey, these Ancient Three ! 
 
 I am lost in a blue-gray mist 
 
 Out on the moors so wild. 
 
 I dare not step, I dare not move, 
 
 And I my vigil must keep 
 
 Till a light draws through this blue-gray mist. 
 
 Then I shall see my way right clear, 
 
 With no danger of falling down a precipice 
 
 So sheer, or dashing my foot against a rock, 
 
 So with patience I will stand, 
 
 Until I can see the fair, glorious land 
 
 That lies beyond the moors so wild. 
 
 Baby darling, sweetheart, pet, 
 Thou art mine, and I am thine, 
 
 1 ' - . As yet ! 
 
 Rest thy heart in mine. 
 
 Thy strength will come into full play. 
 
 Thou shalt be enabled to walk 
 
 In the full light of day! 
 
 O the hours of dreariness and pain! 
 O the tortures of my life again ! 
 Would that I were in a land far withdrawn 
 From all that now for me remains. 
 173 
 
Sunshine, O how charming are thy tracings 
 As thou fall between the lines. 
 Lines of sorrow that are forever in our way, 
 Trying to hide from us thy golden sunshine 
 That forever is at play. 
 
 White Rose, thou dearest and best of guides, 
 Take this, my offering to thee, in thy home 
 In the skies. May thy work be blest, 
 And thy soul finally be at rest. 
 
 Come, let us be gone, and not delay, 
 We must be ready to catch the first faint echo 
 Of springtime, as she starts on her northward 
 way. 
 
 Thou didst bring thine own power into play, 
 Thou didst show thyself not made of pure clay. 
 Thou didst stand forth absolutely free, 
 And put forth the thoughts that came to thee. 
 
 I never knew how great thy force, 
 
 I never realized thy truth. 
 
 If only all great souls were not so modest 
 
 And kept so far from view 
 
 We might have more examples 
 
 To lead us to the truth. 
 
 I wonder if in all the clime 
 I shall find a soul divine. 
 174 
 
One with whom I can define 
 All this love of heart of mine. 
 
 O my soul, to rest with one in perfect harmony 
 So that each thought would be but a gentle in- 
 termingling 
 Of vibrations from soul to soul. 
 
 Thy soul shall be blest 
 With all the songs 
 Put forth by the angels, 
 As they fly along. 
 
 Sun of my soul, come and dwell with me. 
 
 Leave me not in darkness drear. 
 
 Thy beams I fain would see. 
 
 O thou Sun of mine, so dear ! 
 
 Drear my life, if thou comest not to me. 
 
 Dost thou hear my call to thee? 
 
 My Angel of Light, my star so bright, 
 
 Shed thy beams upon me. 
 
 Lull me in thine arms, soothe my cares away, 
 
 For they are but tests, sent to try me 
 
 On my homeward journeying way. 
 
 And if I have thy brightness, to make clear 
 
 My way, I shall come out bold and strong 
 
 In the full light of God's day. 
 
 Sing, dance and play. 
 Right on thy way 
 
 175 
 
And shortly thou wilt reach 
 
 Thy Mecca, that thou hast longed for, 
 
 All thy days! 
 
 To thee be all honor, glory and fame! 
 
 Love will follow thy name; 
 
 And inscribe itself to thy highest aims. 
 
 There is a little snow fairy in the air 
 
 And soon she will dance with glee 
 
 And all the bells ring out so merrily 
 
 And then will come her followers 
 
 By the millions three, and O my, how cold we'll 
 
 be. 
 All because of this naughty little snow fairy 
 Who thought she'd have a dance so free. 
 
 Meadow lark, meadow lark, sing of thy song 
 
 So pure and free, bright and early in the morn, 
 
 When the dew is on the tree, 
 
 Meadow lark, meadow lark, sing and tell me 
 
 In thy song, if I shall be able to sing 
 
 With half thy sweetness, to the world ere long. 
 
 O meadow lark, meadow lark! 
 
 Tell me what dost thou think of my song? 
 
 Oft the clouds of fleecy whiteness 
 Draw my thoughts above. 
 Soon we shall be beyond those clouds 
 And grasp the very purest of God's thoughts. 
 176 
 
Softly falls the snow, o'er the ground both high 
 
 and low, 
 Covering all to a depth that I fear will bring 
 
 woe. 
 Many unfortunate souls will take their last sleep 
 In the snow. It will come so softly like the leaf 
 
 of a rose 
 That people will not realize the might with 
 
 which it blows, 
 And slowly the wind will increase, bringing 
 
 clouds and clouds 
 Of snow, white as fleece, that will settle 
 As firm as a rock, and the wind will increase, 
 Bringing rain and sleet : then more snow will 
 
 follow 
 Till the earth will be covered to a depth of eight 
 
 or ten feet. 
 
 Whisper soft and low, 
 Sweetest songs the wind doth blow. 
 Dost thou hear them telling thee 
 All the tales of land and sea? 
 How this part of the world will sink 
 Into the ocean bed some day, 
 And nought will be left but the rolling waves 
 Where now stands the city with its many ways. 
 Thou must listen, for they whisper very softly 
 Of these things that are to be! 
 
 177 
 
Real battles are easily fought and won. 
 
 Tis the creeping, sneaking, snarling, lying forces 
 
 That take the heart out of one! 
 
 In time there will be vast changes 
 
 Over the land and sea. But the God who 
 
 reigns 
 Will direct thee to where thou shouldst be. 
 So put all thy fear aside and follow thy heavenly 
 
 guide. 
 Thy way will be made very clear to thee. 
 It will be useless to put forth thy prophecies 
 For the world is so blind, it would not see, much 
 
 less listen to thee; but thou 
 Who hast served thy God so well, will be warned 
 
 In time to flee. 
 
 Peace will follow the storm, and victory, the 
 
 fight, 
 So carry thou thy head high, and thy heart 
 
 light, 
 No matter how black the night. My right hand 
 
 I give thee 
 In all fellowship and love ; and the best thoughts 
 I can send from above, shall follow thee all thy 
 
 life. 
 
 Cupid sat on a fence, after a cold winter's 
 
 storm 
 And he shivered and shook, with no one to keep 
 
 him warm. 
 
 i 7 8 
 
O my, how cold was he; but ah, he straightened 
 
 and smiled, 
 For just around a turn of the road, 
 He heard sleigh-bells, and then some bright 
 
 merry laughter 
 And he knew that Cupid was the one they were 
 
 after. 
 
 I will give thee a rhyme, if thou hast the patience 
 And time! Oh my dear, how I do love to 
 
 rhyme ! 
 Especially to a soul such as thine. 
 It is so filled with God, and his love divine. 
 But thou art still waiting for thy rhyme! 
 
 Once upon a time there was a man 
 Who had not finished his life's span. 
 He was sent from the earth, with a shot 
 From the hand of a man, who thought he was 
 
 deep 
 In a plot, to rid the world of a despotic lot. 
 It was a sad fate for the man who was shot, 
 For he had God only in his heart, 
 And had labored for all so well. 
 But such was his fate, and who can tell 
 That his soul was not transported 
 Immediately to the highest Heaven to dwell. 
 
 My heart I bring to you, 
 It is ever true! 
 
 179 
 
Love lies in this heart for you ! 
 
 Sunberry, thou shalt be 
 
 A treasure of joy to those 
 
 Who partake of thee. 
 
 Thy flavor is luscious, 
 
 Sweet and mild, 
 
 Thou beautiful sunberry, by the sea. 
 
 There is a glint of gold, where'er my eyes do 
 
 turn. 
 No matter how dark the night, or bright the 
 
 day, 
 This streak of gold is forever in my way. 
 
 Light gleams from within 
 Darkness comes from without. 
 
 Under the maplewood tree stands a figure bold 
 
 and free, 
 With head held high, and heart so light, 
 That the very gleam of his eye 
 Brings sunshine to the passer-by. 
 
 I see an ocean and a broad expanse of sand. 
 It looks like a desert land. A solitary man 
 Is sitting on the sand, dreaming wild dreams 
 of thee. 
 
 180 
 
Like a rushing river, flows my love. 
 
 Oh my beauteous love, how I long for thee ! 
 
 And the time when we shall be 
 
 Happy in our love, far across the sea! 
 
 Where we can walk or work, 
 
 With none to say, " Thou shall, and will." 
 
 No cares for us, of the everyday life, 
 
 No thought of the morrow and its strife. 
 
 Oh my love, my life, how much longer 
 
 Have I to wait, for my heart's delight? 
 
 Not long? Do I hear thee aright? 
 
 And dost thou know, my angel bright? 
 
 My darling of sweetest light? 
 
 Hast God given thee thy message, 
 
 To gladden my heart, Oh my darling, 
 
 It is always thine art, to bring sunshine 
 
 And love for my part. So I shall patiently wait 
 
 Till we meet once more, and then never again 
 
 Do we part, till our life is o'er, and we shall join 
 
 Our God, on his everlasting shore! 
 
 Beauty of thought, and power divine, 
 Spreads itself o'er this world of mine. 
 
 In this world nothings counts but show. 
 Worth, if hidden under a modest mien, 
 Is passed by, for the lesser qualities 
 Flaunted forth in glowing colors. 
 
 Mighty deeds of charity, put forth 
 With much blowing of brass bands, count. 
 181 
 
But the simple, kindly acts given forth 
 Each day, at every opportunity, 
 Very quietly, bring seldom even thanks 
 From the recipient. 
 
 Speak thou thy heart, not thy head! 
 
 Pearls of beauteous thought are coming to thee, 
 And a dear little soul, that will bring thee com- 
 fort 
 And joy of the whole. Lose not thy brightness 
 And cheer, for the dear little soul is right here. 
 
 In thy higher walk of life 
 
 Thou shalt see the power of the Holy Three. 
 
 And then thou wilt realize, 
 
 What they do for thee! 
 
 Coming o'er the water, dancing gay and free, 
 Are some fairies, bringing tales of wonder 
 Just for thee. Darling little fairies of the sea. 
 In their pearly boats, they will later 
 Bring some fruits to thee, and a nectar 
 Fit for the Gods to see. 
 Drink thou deeply that thy soul may imbibe 
 The dainty visions of the sea fairy tribe. 
 
 O'er the woods and dells, ring the bells, 
 That tell of the coming festive time, 
 
 182 
 
For mistress Mary, is going to quit being con- 
 trary 
 And will marry her lover this time. 
 So all is gay, and bright display will reign 
 O'er the town. I pray, Mistress Mary, 
 That you will never again be quite so contrary. 
 
 Remember that each day 
 Thou art creating a home 
 For thy future habitation. 
 
 The angels of night are coming 
 
 To gather thee to rest, 
 
 So I must away, to where there is no night 
 
 But where all is brightest day. 
 
 If I could take thy hand and guide thee 
 
 To only soft, secluded spots; 
 
 But alas, I am so helpless, 
 
 I must yield to a higher sight, 
 
 And with him deem all things aright. 
 
 Sweetest pet, bow not thy head, 
 
 I love thee same as ever. 
 
 Thy soul is just as dear and just as clever. 
 
 And if I were on this earth, 
 
 I would ask thee to be mine forever! 
 
 The pearly tints of morning light 
 Are breaking through the dark, dark night. 
 183 
 
Soon the soft rosy light, will herald 
 The coming of the golden Sun so bright. 
 And then the day will burst 
 In all the splendor of its might ! 
 
 Sunshine bright, sweetly, softly blooming 
 
 flowers, 
 An atmosphere ladened with the pearly tints of 
 
 Spring. 
 An ocean blue as the azure sky above, 
 Forms a picture, where all at present 
 Is full of peace and love. 
 There I would take my way for a time 
 And rest in the rosy tints of the clime. 
 Till my heart was warmed, and my soul 
 Fairly entwined in the soft sweet azure 
 Of sea and woods combined. 
 
 This to thee, thou highest soul 
 
 In thy infinity. 
 
 May thou guide other souls 
 
 To see the world with thine eyes. 
 
 Thou wilt hear of a death, right soon, 
 That will bring thee much sorrow and gloom. 
 Thou must gather thy forces, 
 And make a brave stand for thine own. 
 I would gather my threads all in, 
 And fasten them firm and well. 
 I would have in writing my interests, 
 Or thou wilt not fare thee so well. 
 184 
 
Sweeping, sweeping are the gales, 
 O'er the land so free! 
 And the comet's tail will make sad havoc 
 Ere it leaves its present trail. 
 
 Poppies I bring to thee, 
 To lull, a sweet incense, 
 So that thine eyes shall see 
 All the languorous beauty 
 
 Of the Orient! 
 
 Success is but the achieving of a certain mark ! 
 
 Success is measured by so many things. 
 It can be applied to the smallest detail 
 Or to the filling out of infinite schemes. 
 
 Incense shall burn to thee, 
 
 Thou flower of purity. 
 
 Thou dearest, sweetest soul of light, 
 
 I pray thee, give to me 
 
 Of thy love, both day and night. 
 
 That I may on its wings 
 
 Fly to realms of eternal delight. 
 
 Under the falling robe of night, 
 Gleam the stars, bold and bright. 
 So with all our lives. 
 We are given a season of night, 
 
 185 
 
To enable us to see our highest points 
 
 Of light. For in the bright, beautiful sunlight 
 
 The stars are entirely hid from sight. 
 
 A dream dispelled, a hope shattered! 
 O why does all this come, this everlasting strife 
 
 Of Heaven and Hell! 
 
 High-ho, high-ho, here we go, 
 
 Right on the verge of another winter's snow. 
 
 Thou must gather thy goods from afar 
 
 For thou wilt have need of them all, 
 
 And butter will be beyond par! 
 
 And milk, thou wilt not find it 
 
 Far on its way in the car! 
 
 So lay in a stock of right good sort, 
 
 That will keep thy heart warm for its part. 
 
 Rose leaves flitting through the air, 
 
 Covering all the ground with thy perfume rare. 
 
 How I love the very sound of thy name, 
 
 Roses, everywhere! 
 
 Contentment is only experienced by those 
 Utterly lacking in soul, for soul is ever looking 
 Onward and upward, and cannot rest on any 
 given plane. 
 
 To all the world thy thoughts shall go, 
 Sweetest messengers of love below. 
 186 
 
They will charm the ear, and warm the heart, 
 And bring to thee a part in the world of art. 
 
 True friendship is milk of absolute purity; 
 But it must not be subjected to a great intensity 
 Of heat, or it will turn, and a daily renewal 
 
 Is necessary! 
 
 Daffodils, in all thy glowing yellow beauty, 
 Thou dost bring a dainty, dancing elf 
 Who gives happiness, health and wealth! 
 
 Sweet Peas, in thy dainty, modest life, 
 Thou dost carry to all, an inspiration 
 To live above the everyday strife. 
 
 Bachelor Buttons, thou godly little flowers, 
 Thou dost bring hope, where reign the dark, dark 
 powers. 
 
 Orchids, thou stately blooms, 
 Thou dost carry within thy looms 
 Many threads to weave in colors gay, 
 For the lives with whom thou dost abide, 
 If only for a day! 
 
 Tulips, thou hast a secret to tell, 
 Sometimes thou hidest it well, 
 And then again flauntest it, 
 
 187 
 
So that all the world can tell! 
 But love is hidden deep in the wells 
 At times thou fain would keep 
 
 And not even sell ! 
 
 Shiver not, thou wilt have many messages 
 Brought to thee, that will make thy heart bound 
 
 with glee. 
 Dear little stories of earth and sea, 
 To capture the hearts that are waiting for thee. 
 
 A dainty soul will come flying by, and thou 
 Must be ready to take her inspirations while she 
 
 is nigh. 
 She pauses but an instant, and is off to others, 
 
 to fly. 
 
 Hollyhocks, thou bold clustered flowers, 
 Flaunting thy gay colors to the wind and rain. 
 Thou art sturdy messengers, bringing health for 
 
 pain. 
 My brave hollyhocks, thou art worthy of thy 
 
 name. 
 
 Roses, nestled in thy wealth of green, 
 Thou art of every color and sheen. 
 Give to us thy secret of beauty 
 And daintiness fair; also thy charm 
 That thou dost shower everywhere. 
 Thou dost carry a message deep in thy heart, 
 188 
 
Of comfort, joy and love, and to many a heart 
 Hast thou brought a life-giving part. 
 For thou art ever a stimulant of the heart, 
 And bravely dost thou carry thy part, 
 In this wide world of art! 
 
 In the bright daylight, thou art safe, 
 
 But when the night shadows fall, 
 
 Thou must rest thy fate with thy God in all ! 
 
 Popsy-Wopsy lived in Dumpling Lane 
 
 And he ate apple dumplings till he had a pain. 
 
 Oh my, how he groaned and cried: 
 
 "If I ever eat another apple dumpling 
 
 May I bust inside." But alas, right soon, 
 
 He forgot his pain he had had, 
 
 And ate some more dumplings, 
 
 Which proved to be the last. 
 
 For his wish came true, and he went up, 
 
 With a great loud blast! 
 
 Many fine truths thou hast inscribed, 
 
 Many words of love for those 
 
 Who will later walk in thy light. 
 
 Many trite sayings of both day and night, 
 
 Which the people will love 
 
 As soon as thou bring them to their sight. 
 
 In the light of coming events, I should say : 
 Be thou careful of thy stores, 
 
 189 
 
And make them immense. Thou wilt have need 
 Of a goodly share, both for thee and thy friends, 
 
 So my dear, beware ! 
 
 A raging torrent rushes along, 
 
 Leaving disaster and much woe. 
 
 But this I know, thou wilt be left safe 
 
 And secure, in thy home. 
 
 A guard will be drawn around thy life 
 
 To care and protect of thee from all strife. 
 
 Thou wilt rest in peace, 
 
 And later will come to thee a crown 
 
 Full of jewels both fine and rare 
 
 Which thou shalt wear for thy life's full share. 
 
 I see a rosy line, stretching far and wide 
 And on it some messages, which thou 
 Shalt receive at the coming night tide. 
 
 Song and gladness cannot be all thy lot in life ; 
 
 Sorrow must have her flow. 
 
 In order to enrich thy portion, 
 
 When thou hast finished thy life below. 
 
 I see a mighty torrent rushing o'er the land; 
 A mighty wall of water break itself in bands 
 That will literally encompass the land. 
 Then a mighty tremor will begin from far be- 
 low the rock, 
 And gradually gain in strength and volume 
 190 
 
Till it draws the earth apart. 
 
 I would quit this part of the country, 
 
 Away from the troubled sea, and the forces that 
 
 are working 
 To cast themselves from the ground under thee. 
 
 Golden lights are forever surrounding thee. 
 Thou must not allow thine eyes to be dimmed 
 By the darkness beyond thee. 
 
 Tiny threads of gold are woven 'neath the black- 
 est night. 
 
 Later, when the darkness parts, there will be 
 shown 
 
 A dazzling glory of lights and arts. 
 
 Gleams the gold, far deep in the solid rock. 
 The surface is not attractive, except to those 
 Skilled in the art of reading the rocks. 
 
 I knew a little old man who lived in a conchal 
 shell, 
 
 Down by the ocean's roll and swell. 
 
 Oh my, what stories he had to tell, of deep sea 
 wonders 
 
 That were whispered to him in the shell, 
 
 Of the beautiful mossy dells, surrounded by ex- 
 quisite shells 
 
 Where dwelt the mermaids, with their gold 
 
 191 
 
And silver gowns, that sparkled in the moon- 
 light, 
 
 When they came to town. How they danced 
 
 Upon the water's silvery crown, with a sway- 
 ing and a rhythm 
 
 That was music in the air, all around. 
 
 How the little fairies from the woods 
 
 Would come and join with them in song, weav- 
 ing garlands 
 
 Of flowers, with which their heads to adorn. 
 
 Then with much laughter and play, these fairies 
 and mermaids 
 
 Would disappear with the first streak of day. 
 
 I see a golden pear, just dangling in the air. 
 It is not so very high, and thou couldst catch it 
 If thou didst try. I would not haste thee, 
 But rather mark thee well the time when thou 
 
 thinkest 
 It will fall; and then be thou there, 
 Ready for thy share of the golden pear. 
 
 The morrow's sun will set upon a victory won, 
 And a new era for a life, will have begun. 
 The narrow groves will fall aside, and the 
 Soul will expand, in the glorious sunshine 
 Of another land. Free from cares and from 
 
 troubles, 
 At rest; ah, I am so happy, when I see how 
 
 that soul 
 
 Will be blest ! 
 192 
 
My heart is pierced by many a dart, 
 
 But it adorns a page of finest art; 
 
 For I am a part of an old fashioned valentine, 
 
 That brought joy to a maiden's heart. 
 
 And long has she treasured this fine piece of art, 
 
 That I have adorned, with my blood-red heart. 
 
 I fain would give thee some golden lines, 
 That thou couldst carry in thy heart. 
 To be forever a part of thy life, in thy sorrow, 
 And in thy strife. In thy joy, good fortune and 
 
 delight. 
 Just some lines that would bring thee at once 
 To realize, from thy God comes all thy life. 
 He brings both joy, sorrow and strife. 
 
 Thy God is thy life ! 
 
 Sitting by the fireside, watching the logs 
 Crackle and blaze, my thoughts ever turn 
 To the days gone by. To all the bright, happy 
 
 hours. 
 The walk, the dance, the talk, 
 And the singing of songs on a cold winter night, 
 To the popping of corn, and the making of 
 
 " Hearts' Delight " 
 A confection I know all still like. 
 And then before me come a few small sorrows 
 And misunderstandings; the other girl with the 
 
 golden curls 
 (For his heart was easily swayed, this lover 
 
 193 
 
Of the early days). How one was sure the 
 
 heart would break, 
 To wake in the morning, with a heavy sigh, 
 And wish that one might die; but alas, a new 
 
 dress, 
 A small jewel, or even a box of candy, 
 Would lessen the loss, and make one think 
 The earth was not all dross. 
 And what a smile these things bring to one, 
 After they have faced the cares, joys and sor- 
 rows of life, 
 The bitter realities and strifes; but after all 
 What is life but a repetition of joys, sorrows 
 and strife. 
 
 The world will shortly undergo 
 A vast churning and turning, just so-so! 
 Not at all in the way it should go, just so-so! 
 A huge amount of wealth will be thrown up 
 From below, because of the fires 
 That are raging, just so-so! 
 Rivers of gold, silver and copper will flow, 
 And then times will be just so-so! 
 This will occur in Nineteen Ten, 
 In Nineteen Eleven it will end, 
 This flow of wealth; then Oh my, 
 Everything will be just so-so! 
 Conceive if you can, how the people will rush 
 To gather these rivers of wealth, 
 But alas and alack, it will run through their 
 hands, 
 
 194 
 
For easy come, easy go, 
 
 And things will be just so-so! 
 
 Gardenia, thou cold, pure flower, 
 Thou hast hidden in thy heart a wealth of per- 
 fume, 
 That brings pleasure of the finer senses of art. 
 Thou art a healer of many a broken heart. 
 
 Narcissus, thou sweet overpowering flower, 
 Thou dost bring one to the gates of a dawning 
 
 hour; 
 To enter or not, at will. But thou 
 Always dost bring one to where their finer 
 
 senses 
 May sway, and behold the clear life of perfect 
 
 day. 
 
 The pearly gates are open wide, 
 So that thou mayest step inside, 
 And gather of the flowers that grow so fair 
 All along the paths that are everywhere. 
 Such exquisite flowers of thought 
 Are blooming in that garden, unsought. 
 Dainty, pearly beams of light 
 They would shed upon some soul, 
 On the blackest night, if they 
 Were only gathered to be strewn 
 Among the tired, weary ones of earth. 
 Canst thou not enter the gates 
 And therein glean the thoughts? 
 195 
 
Thy God hast given thee the heart! 
 Why not put forth all thine arts ? 
 
 Thou art blessed beyond thy wildest hopes, 
 
 Thou hast climbed the steep ladder of fame, 
 
 And wilt stand on the highest plane. 
 
 A star for thy crown, God in thy heart, 
 
 And all the world's love for thy part. 
 
 Thou must not listen to the voice of the tempter 
 
 Promising thee wealth untold, 
 
 A fame, name and love, that is beyond thy claim. 
 
 Always remember thou wilt have only thy share ; 
 
 And that will be according to the way 
 
 Thou hast builded, all thy days. 
 
 Each second, minute and hour counts, 
 
 The good and the evil are weighed 
 
 One against the other. Watch thee the scales, 
 
 That thy balance may be all for good. 
 
 Seated on a rock, gazing out to sea, 
 Is a woman whose heart is breaking for thee. 
 Canst thou not send her one word of cheer, 
 And just a small token, to show that thy love 
 She need not fear? Remember this on the mor- 
 row's dawn 
 And send her a word that will reach her before 
 
 long. 
 Then her heart will be joyful and she'll sing 
 
 her song 
 Of beauty and sweetness, all the day long. 
 
 196 
 
Ever upward thine eyes must be, 
 
 Ever onward thy walk must go. 
 
 Thou canst not pause to look back 
 
 On thy path, for the flowers that thou must 
 
 pluck 
 Lie high hidden in the rocks above. 
 So onward and upward thy journey must go 
 With a heart full of love, 
 And a spirit that will brave any blow, 
 From the rocks above, or the earth below. 
 
 Scattered all along, are the links 
 
 Of a great grand song. 
 
 Thou must gather them one by one, 
 
 To rivet each link, and then 
 
 To swell the song, so that to it 
 
 The world may move along. 
 
 My mind is cleared of its haze. 
 
 I now can see it has been a mist 
 
 Of unreal rays, that have spread 
 
 And encircled my ways. 
 
 So that where'er I turned, 
 
 I did but encounter a dark high wall. 
 
 Now the sunlight is with me again 
 
 And all things resume their golden reign. 
 
 God's wisdom leads us far 
 From where we most desire to be. 
 Later we shall see 
 
 197 
 
How His plans all work out 
 For our greatest good to be. 
 
 Tiny marks each thought doth make. 
 Never can they be effaced. 
 A thought flings itself upon the world 
 To be absorbed by the immense whole. 
 
 Striving ever striving, to be first 
 
 In might and rank; but we do realize 
 
 That finally, all that counts 
 
 Has nought to do with might and rank. 
 
 Mounting ever on high, 
 
 I glean the thoughts of purity and love. 
 
 Fine, elusive schemes of life, 
 
 The simple working out 
 
 Of what we call the deeper mysteries, 
 
 They are so simple to my eyes. 
 
 Mounting high on wings of love 
 I soar to unknown realms above. 
 Oh that I could take thee with me, 
 To refresh thine eyes 
 With the calm, sweet splendor 
 
 Of my skies ! 
 
 I walk with stately steps 
 
 Where'er my God may lead the way. 
 
 198 
 
His paths are often not the ones 
 
 Mine eyes would choose, 
 
 Being bare and bleak, or else 
 
 So heavily shaded, and undergrown 
 
 That I scarce can find my steps. 
 
 But ever my heart doth sing 
 
 Its one sweet song: My God is wisdom, 
 
 Love and care, and I know that later 
 
 He will bring me into my full, full share. 
 
 Later I shall walk with thee, and in my garden 
 Thou shalt be all enshrined in a bower of roses 
 Grown for thee, Oh thou divine soul of mine. 
 
 Merry little Cupid 
 Brings my heart to you! 
 
 My heart is ever seeking for thee! 
 Dost thou seek me? 
 
 My heart is true ! 
 Therefore I bring it to you! 
 
 My heart is filled with good red blood, 
 And only sees its God above! 
 
 I seem to be groping, there is something I want 
 
 to find. 
 It is just a small jewel to wear, when I go forth 
 199 
 
On my quest, in the coming day's dawn. 
 
 Just a little jewel of hope and success, 
 
 And that I shall stand the test. And when the 
 
 day 
 Has run its course, and the sun is sinking in the 
 
 West, 
 I shall be able to cry : "I have conquered." 
 
 And now stand with the best. 
 
 Little men, O how wise are they! 
 With their haughty airs of wisdom 
 So bold and free, and to them, 
 
 How unwise are we! 
 
 My God, teach me more patient to be, 
 More loving and thoughtful of my kind, 
 
 I pray of thee! 
 
 Work, work, work! The morn will soon break 
 Upon a vast eager throng, all hurrying to be first 
 In the toil and swirl of the work-a-day world! 
 The day will grow as the sun mounts on high, 
 Till the noon of the day, when the short rest is 
 
 nigh. 
 Then work till the sun has set, is the lot 
 Of the work-a-day life. 
 
 Work, work, work! 
 
 1 would that I could sit with thee 
 And talk of all the things worth while. 
 
 200 
 
The many subjects that now engross our minds 
 
 And time, would give us themes 
 
 In which to bring forth all our views 
 
 Of every sort and kind. 
 
 But time does press so hard, or else 
 
 I would sit with thee awhile. 
 
 Come, darling love, why hast thou not cared 
 
 of me? 
 I am still thy love, O my love, my life, 
 
 O my darling come to me! 
 
 Hold, my soul ! I will guide and guard thee 
 
 Into great, grand realms of light, 
 
 That will lead thee to where there is no night ! 
 
 In the silent night, when the earth is wrapped 
 
 In a soft and quiet light, 
 
 Then come the Ancient Three, all inspired 
 
 By the gods of Liberty ! 
 
 Softly falls the light upon the way. 
 
 Thy work is finished for the present day. 
 
 So rest until the sun is high 
 
 And then thy soul will take thee to the skies, 
 
 To revel in the glorious light of high noontide. 
 
 Dance, dance, my precious one, 
 Thy song so free shall be. 
 Grace and beauty of motion 
 20 1 
 
Are all ascribed to thee. 
 
 Come dance, dance, my precious one, 
 
 And show to me thy grace of form so free, 
 
 And I will worship at thy feet, 
 
 In all humility. So dance my precious one, 
 
 Come dance to me ! 
 
 Soon, ah soon, wilt thou be free 
 To dwell among thy kind, in perfect liberty. 
 To expand thy mind to catch the thoughts 
 Of God Divine! So my soul look up, 
 
 And not behind! 
 
 Death has no fears for me. 
 It will only transport me 
 To my God in Heaven, 
 
 And the everlasting love. 
 
 The winds do blow and the trees do bend 
 
 With the weighing force of might. 
 
 It is so like our lives ; 
 
 We bend and we sway, with the wind that blows. 
 
 Shadows are such restful things 
 From the glaring sunlight of the day, 
 And such dreamers of the softened moonlight 
 
 On the lawns. 
 
 202 
 
My country, I love but thee ! 
 Thy views are broad and fine, 
 Thy shores so free, 
 
 O my country, I love but thee! 
 
 October, thou richest month of the year, 
 
 1 pray thee bring me a wealth of love and cheer. 
 In thy glorious toning of trees and light 
 Thou art the King of the year, 
 
 Thou stately October, my heart's delight. 
 
 Come, come, where the wild winds sing, 
 Where the leaves are all gold and brown, 
 With here and there a scarlet coat 
 The love of the wind's wild song! 
 We will wander by the brook, 
 And list to its murmuring song 
 As it gurgles its way along, 
 To join in the wind's wild song. 
 So come, come, and let us be gone! 
 
 My soul will sing in tune with thee, 
 
 My God of Night! 
 
 Thou art come with a message of love 
 
 To carry me through till the light breaks forth 
 
 From the eastern sky, 
 
 All glory to thee, 
 
 My God of Night! 
 
 On a desert far away, 
 A single horseman rides. 
 203 
 
His head is bent, he does not heed or see 
 
 That the night is far, far spent, 
 
 And that he is miles upon his way. 
 
 He only dreams of his love 
 
 Whom he has not seen, 
 
 Except in his most perfect dreams. 
 
 He counts the time that must elapse 
 
 Ere his dreams are filled. 
 
 He knows full well the line his love 
 
 Has passed — and not until 
 
 She has reached a high, high caste, 
 
 Will she be his love at last. 
 
 So he rides his way with his head still bent 
 
 And with naught but a love of his thought. 
 
 Come, come, do not give way 
 To these lower thoughts of life; 
 But put forth all thy strength of mind 
 And soul, and live in brighter sight. 
 
 Floating, floating, is our flag so free, 
 
 On this, the Glorious Fourth, the anniversary 
 
 Of our freedom and our birth, 
 
 To all the blessings of our God; 
 
 Floating, floating is our flag so free! 
 
 A beautiful country road, so sweetly shaded, 
 the trees making a haven of delight on a weary 
 day, is like to the paths of Heaven, all rest and 
 shade, to the soul, striving for the right. 
 
 204 
 
I am not in tune to write 
 Of all the winds that to us doth blow. 
 
 Each one whispering music soft and low, 
 Or else a gale of rhythm strong and full, 
 
 The leaves all dancing to its tune. 
 The trees bending and swaying in graceful mo- 
 tion 
 
 Attesting to the wind's firm call 
 Of " Come, come, dance, one and all ! " 
 
 The way seems dark, the light has not yet 
 
 pierced 
 The depths, to which I am inclined to look; 
 But soon a star will shine out bright and clear 
 And draw mine eyes from without their lowered 
 
 gaze, 
 And I shall be inclined to praise my God 
 For all his loving grace. 
 
 My soul, part from all thy smaller art 
 
 And rise to visions of thy Creator's 
 
 Most sublimest tone of every part. 
 
 Portray the finer, higher things of life. 
 
 Start an all-pervading theme 
 
 Of God's most astounding scheme 
 
 Of inspiring all the grandeur of the thoughts 
 
 Along the stream, with which our paths are 
 
 fraught 
 In this daily struggle to do our part. 
 
 205 
 
Hope, thou most blessed gift of God's wisdom, 
 Thrice blessed art thou. 
 
 We struggle and live on thee! 
 
 Peace, like a calm refreshing scene, 
 Brings us to the heart of things. 
 
 The very centre of the universe 
 Revolves on the simple word " Harmony." 
 
 Love is an ideal formed in our minds, re- 
 garding some one object. 
 
 Pure spiritual love is like the most delicate 
 cloak. 
 
 It surrounds like a cloud, and is only meas- 
 ured 
 
 By the depths of its purity. 
 
 The face of a picture often lies 
 As to what is in the depths beyond. 
 A past that is not of beauty untold, 
 Ofttimes shines, resplendent with gold. 
 
 My love runs on at an alarming pace. 
 I am always dreaming of his face, 
 My every thought is for his care. 
 My soul is wrapped in space, and I desire 
 Nothing but to dwell within his gates. 
 206 
 
My heart ever calls for its mate, 
 
 I am happy only when he is nigh. 
 
 My love, my love, what an alarming pace, 
 
 And where will it lead me to? A safe 
 
 And sheltered life, or strand me on a desert bare, 
 
 With only mine own love to face ! 
 
 I am filled with misgivings, if my Love 
 
 Is the least bit late, and straightway 
 
 Begin to hate every pleasure or duty 
 
 That causes me to wait. Do you wonder 
 
 That I am alarmed at its pace? 
 
 Dream, my soul, 
 
 For soon thou must awake 
 
 And work, work, work! 
 
 The witchery of the hour steals o'er me, 
 My thoughts to thee fly out on swiftest wing; 
 I am thy love, O my soul, why not now ? 
 Why art thou hidden so deeply from my gaze ? 
 I would thy lips to me in a warm embrace. 
 Thy arms are now so far in space ! 
 O my soul, make haste, make haste! 
 And come to me, with thy ever-winning grace. 
 My love for thee hast not lost the smallest part. 
 It is a wide rushing stream that would cleanse 
 
 thee 
 Of all thy lesser arts, and would put thee 
 On a pinnacle far apart, from all that tortures 
 
 now thy heart. 
 
 207 
 
O my love, dost thou hear my prayer, nay, my 
 
 command ? 
 To come, no more to part, but to live together 
 In the widening grace of Art! 
 
 Great the reward of the faithful few 
 Who earnestly do their work. 
 They are outnumbered far and wide, 
 By the line of those untrue. 
 
 My love, my love, is a star so bright, 
 So shining with truth and light. 
 Gay and happy, and always full of delight. 
 My love, my love, is a star so bright ! 
 
 My love, my love is a flower of fairest kind, 
 
 She shines with a love divine. 
 
 She yields a perfume of God's own mind 
 
 In the thoughts she inspires in this heart of 
 
 mine. 
 O my love, my love, is a flower of rarest kind. 
 
 My love, my love, is a jewel rare and pure 
 Of light! A gem of brilliancy that shines out 
 Through the darkest night, to lead me on 
 To the morning bright. 
 
 My love, my love, is a jewel rare and pure of 
 light. 
 
 208 
 
My love, my love, is a song of never ending 
 
 themes, 
 Ofttimes soft and low, and then a loud full flow 
 Of glorious dreams, that I have dreamed in the 
 
 long ago. 
 My love, my love, is a song of never ending 
 
 themes ! 
 
 The wideness of my love is not to be measured. 
 Nay, it could not be stayed, in any given part. 
 It pours itself over every heart, and in return 
 Is given "a broken and a crushed heart. 
 
 Come baby dear, we will travel afar 
 
 Into that glorious land of stars 
 
 Where each one shines for thee ! 
 
 A bright, leading star. When thou 
 
 Art grown to man's estate, 
 
 I wonder which will rule thy fate? 
 
 Dost thou think they would tell thee 
 
 Of thy loves and thy part in this world's wide 
 
 pace? 
 Dost thou think they know the art 
 Of telling thy lifelong fate — but come, 
 Baby dear, we will travel and see their state ; 
 And thou shalt rest for the night, 
 
 Cradled in the arms of thy fate! 
 
 I feel thy love, my soul, thy thoughts 
 Are all around and in and out. 
 They stamp themselves upon my sight 
 209 
 
And wrap me in a vapory cloud, 
 
 Not to my soul's delight. 
 
 For then I am filled with a doubt 
 
 Of my strength, to withstand 
 
 The calling of thy thoughts all about. 
 
 O what a merry, merry day, 
 
 When folks will do more laugh and play 
 
 Not to look so serious and so sad ! 
 
 With such grave, long faces 
 
 Now their cares are clad. 
 
 Some day they will throw them all away 
 
 And be merry and so glad ; their tasks 
 
 Will lighten as the rising day, 
 
 Breaks into glorious light 
 
 That will carry their burdens far away. 
 
 Oh my heart, sing and sing and sing ! 
 Merry, merry be thy song! 
 Happy, happy be thy chant! 
 Sing, O sing forever, O my heart. 
 And thy life will ne'er depart, 
 Sing, O sing forever, O my heart. 
 
 Come, my beauty, speak, and show thy grace so 
 
 fair. 
 Thou hast a world of knowledge stored so deep, 
 Why not part with a share ? 
 
 210 
 
Wilful, wilful little lad, 
 
 Never giving to thy ways? 
 
 Always fighting, striving 
 
 For some other thing to do. 
 
 But the years will tell 
 
 A tale of love 
 
 And care, of thy lightest wish; 
 
 So do not despair, but give him 
 
 All the love and care, 
 
 And be patient with his trying ways ! 
 
 Rock, rock, my darling one, 
 
 And soothe thy tiredness away. 
 
 In the next day's dawning 
 
 Thou wilt feel the strength 
 
 That for a time has flown far away. 
 
 So rest, rest my love, 
 
 And in resting cometh strength ! 
 
 Swaying, swaying, on the wings of the night. 
 
 The moon and the stars so bright. 
 
 The waves are lapping on the shore, 
 
 Like a warm summer night. O that I were with 
 
 thee, 
 Swaying on the wings of night ! 
 We could fly far from the day, and its glare 
 Of light. And hide ourselves in the woods, 
 Until again comes the warm summer night. 
 But Alas, I am far from thee, 
 And thou must sway alone upon the wings of 
 
 night ! 
 
 My Love, my Angel of Light ! 
 211 
 
The sails are set, my ship is going at a rapid 
 
 pace. 
 The sea is wild and choppy, but I have no fear. 
 My sails are firm, and I can sail straight on 
 To Heaven, my home, at last ! 
 
 Tell me Fates of my life, what has it yet in store ? 
 Am I to meet with strife and fighting, is my 
 
 soul 
 To be torn once more? Is my heart to be 
 
 bowed 
 With sorrow and care, or have I a glorious life 
 
 before ? 
 With never a thought or a care, and a bright, 
 
 radiant soul? 
 Tell me fate, which hast thou in store? 
 
 The sea is wild and fierce, the storm is raging 
 
 high, 
 The ships are beaten here and there. 
 The thunder rolls, and the lightning shoots 
 Its fire upon the waters deep and wild. 
 And every soul is tense with fear, and prays 
 That God will grant his care, to safety and to 
 
 light. 
 But the storm in fierceness rolls, the bells ring 
 
 out 
 In deep despair, and all upon the waters dark 
 
 and deep 
 Are doomed to lie beneath the fury of its waves. 
 
 212 
 
But God is with them, and before the day will 
 
 break 
 They shall have winged their way on high. 
 
 The glorious air, the sun so bright, 
 
 And the waters blue, should tempt you to go 
 
 Thereunto; and dance with the waves, as they 
 
 fly along, 
 To catch an inspiration from the winds' wild 
 
 song. 
 
 Far, far away, there is a soul 
 
 Full of a great unrest. There are tasks 
 
 That must be done, and how and when and 
 
 where, 
 The soul cannot attest. There is a wrong 
 That must be righted, ere that soul 
 Can rest in peace, and pursue its upward way. 
 It prays, and prays, but sees no light, 
 Its space is small, its strength is light, 
 It grovels now, where it should rise and shine. 
 I pray that God will send a star, 
 To lead the soul to firmer ground, 
 Of honor, truth and love ! 
 
 I wonder if there is a spot in all the world 
 Of rapture and of bliss, where the serpent 
 Never enters with its sting and hiss. 
 I wonder if, some day, we people all will dwell 
 In harmony of life and thought, of kindly deed, 
 And action, for each other fraught. 
 213 
 
Making all the lines of love and grace 
 For each others' peace and sake. 
 
 I wonder if we will come to this glorious way, 
 Of living for each other in a most unselfish way. 
 
 1 cease to wonder, but will pray, that all 
 
 May realize the beauty of love and truth, along 
 the way. 
 
 Wandering along in a shaded path 
 
 Of the wild woods free, I see a flower 
 
 That is waiting to be plucked. 
 
 It is hidden very deeply, carefully shaded 
 
 By a tree: but I will gently, very gently 
 
 Bring it forth, so that all the world may see. 
 
 It is a dainty, modest little flower. 
 
 Of bloom so fine and sweet, that all 
 
 Will marvel, on what road I did it meet. 
 
 I shall shield it very gently 
 
 From the bright, hard gaze of light. 
 
 I cannot part with this flower of my life. 
 
 So I shall find a hidden nook, 
 
 To keep it from all strife. 
 
 There is a merry little stream of water 
 Running down a hill. Such a happy, 
 Gurgling little stream, as it rushes on and on, 
 Always dancing, and laughing its bright song. 
 Such a pleasure, just to look 
 
 At that merry little stream. 
 
 214 
 
The days of winter are coming nigh, 
 The signs of the season are all about. 
 My love, you and I can scarce command, 
 The funds for a winter's route. 
 But hope will stay high, that a chance 
 May bring it about! 
 
 In the coming years there will many changes be 
 By modes of travel on land and sea. 
 Wars will rage in every clime. This country 
 Will advance beyond the older world. 
 New rulers will spring up, in eager hope 
 Of putting all things in wider scope. 
 Prominent men will drop from view. 
 A radical change is coming, making all things 
 
 new. 
 So watch from the first of the month 
 For your higher view ! 
 
 The lives of many are in danger deep, 
 
 Of the sudden falling to sleep, 
 
 To awake in another land; but rest thy soul, 
 
 Thou art safe from falling to sleep. 
 
 Thou hast many years in which to give of thy 
 love 
 
 And strength of thought. So courage and do 
 thy best 
 
 To be the first in the march, to God's everlast- 
 ing rest. 
 
 215 
 
How many years old are you, little maid? 
 
 How many summers have you played 
 
 In God's most blessed land? 
 
 Are you a wee, wee toddler, 
 
 Or are you a young lady, with a heart and hand ? 
 
 They olden so rapidly nowadays, 
 
 And give themselves airs and graces so fine, 
 
 That one can scarcely remember, 
 
 If they are nine, or nine and nine ! 
 
 The cold snapping air makes one plan 
 
 Such a wealth of tasks to do. 
 
 It spurs one on to a higher view 
 
 And makes one dream of the Christmas hue. 
 
 The blazing fire on the hearthstone sings 
 
 And leaps in tune, and all things seem 
 
 To gather new force, to pursue their onward 
 
 course 
 In this most glorious part 
 
 Of the early Autumn moon ! 
 
 All along the way, are gathered by the Ancient 
 
 Three 
 The gems of thought spread out so bright for 
 
 thee. 
 Thou hast caught them well, my soul of light, 
 And they are very proud of thee ! 
 
 There dwelt a robin in a tree, 
 He sang his lays so wild and free, 
 He lived a merry life, did he. 
 216 
 
No cares to burden his bright breast. 
 
 No mate, said he, " I desire only 
 
 To be free." There came a charmer 
 
 Flying along, and Robin, what did he? 
 
 Why, turned his head, and shut his eyes, 
 
 And never a note sang he. 
 
 But somehow the tree, or his life so free, 
 
 Was not so desirable, thought he. 
 
 So he turned his head, and opened his eyes, 
 
 And O how sweetly sang he. 
 
 He plumed his coat, and straight after 
 
 The charmer flew he. 
 
 Day divides the night, 
 
 Night divides the day. 
 
 So are all our lives 
 
 First dark, then light holds sway. 
 
 I dreamed of you, my love, 
 I thought we wandered far, 
 To a garden all in shade, 
 And there we stayed. 
 
 Yellow bird, yellow bird, 
 Sing, sing, sing! 
 In thy gilded cage thou hast not 
 Much room to wing, but 
 
 Thou canst sing, sing, sing! 
 
 217 
 
My sweetheart lives in a country lane. 
 She is a dear little lass of no special fame. 
 But a right good wife I know will be her name. 
 
 Passion is such an exquisite thing, 
 Rightly used to create fine wide themes. 
 Not to debase one's soul, by only answering 
 The call of the body, but together to create 
 The whole, a life or a work of art. 
 A poem or a fine story in all its parts. 
 This my friends is passion 
 In its finer, higher arts. 
 
 Sigh never so sweetly, my love, 
 Sing always so brightly, my dove. 
 God's care is never away from thee, love, 
 Where'er thy home may be, on land or sea, 
 Thou art always in his care, and love, 
 My precious, precious dove. 
 
 My love is like a raging fire, 
 
 It bursts out into flame that almost 
 
 Consumes my body, with the intenseness 
 
 Of its blaze. And then I create something fine 
 
 And new, and my soul comes forth to view. 
 
 As I look out upon the moving throng, 
 The vastly busy people of the earth, 
 Either to their pleasures or their work, 
 They hurry so along. Their faces eager, 
 218 
 
Expectant or worried, drawn, and some 
 
 O so forlorn ! None bear the stamp 
 
 Of peaceful pleasure, none have time 
 
 For a smile to give along. It is push, 
 
 And rush, and " O how do you do ! 
 
 Well, I must hurry on ! " Why all this ceaseless 
 
 rush? 
 Life is short, to be sure, but we should take time 
 To live our span on earth, 
 In an atmosphere of love and brightest mirth. 
 To always have time for a chat and a smile, 
 For a kind deed, or to sorrow with a friend in 
 
 need 
 For awhile. This everlasting mad, mad whirl 
 Would cease, and life run on, like a river 
 Of peace. We should take time to look around 
 And learn our country's charm. 
 To love our neighbors would do no harm, 
 But this all takes time, and time is the goad 
 That is driving us on, and on. 
 For what, my world? Why nothing 
 But a small narrow mound, to leave to the gaze 
 Of those who may chance around. 
 
 Far up among the mountains of snow 
 
 There dwells a bird of sweetest song, 
 
 And soon it will descend, 
 
 To give forth its golden flow. 
 
 Thou must watch that they treat it 
 
 With all due care, this golden bird of the snow. 
 
 It will burst upon the world 
 
 219 
 
With glories yet untold. Its purity 
 And sweetness are above the usual flow ; 
 And some may not care for this golden bird 
 Of the snow; for they will feel 
 The blackness of their souls, and of course 
 That they would rather not know. 
 But most of the people will love 
 This golden bird of the snow, 
 
 Ring out, thou joyous bells so free! 
 This is a gala time for thee. 
 When all is full of mirth and glee. 
 Angels sing for thee, thou joyous bells, 
 Ring out so free! 
 
 Never think thy friends mean 
 Anything but good to thee. 
 Always take their little whims 
 And ways, in best of heart, 
 And thou wilt surely find 
 Their most perfect part. 
 
 My hopes are dashed upon a rock, 
 But that only serves to make them fly 
 To greater heights. Sprays of truth 
 Will spread themselves around, 
 Even as a wave is flung upon a rock, 
 And breaks to greater beauty and space. 
 
 220 
 
Wrap thyself in thy coat of gold. 
 
 It will not hide thy soul 
 
 Which shines out so bold, and in thy face 
 
 Is told. 
 
 Suggestion? What is suggestion? 
 
 A desire put forth regarding some one soul, 
 
 Either to its advantage or disadvantage. 
 
 If I were only a bird 
 
 And could sail away so free, 
 
 I would fly straight to thee. 
 
 Oft a strain of music soft and sweet 
 Is wafted on the air to me. 
 Just enough to take me o'er to thee. 
 And there I dwell in peace and love so free. 
 My love, with thee. 
 
 Love, why dost thou look sad? 
 Is thy heart aheavy and burdened to the last? 
 Cheer, cheer my love, the skies are bright 
 And not o'ercast. Thou must see all things 
 In a rosy light. My love, be of cheer, and 
 
 bright. 
 Thy days will come. O my love thou must not 
 Be sad! 
 
 Thou hast walked the earth full many a year 
 In high estate, and without fear. 
 221: 
 
Thou hast covered thy paths full well. 
 Thou hast stood for all that is fine and high. 
 Mark you, only stood; for in reality 
 Thou hast crawled upon the ground, 
 And grovelled to the lowest kind. 
 Thy pride and high estate were only a blind, 
 Which, if thou art not careful 
 Will be drawn aside, leaving thee 
 Naked to the world's wide eyes. 
 Then thou wilt shrink with fear and take thee 
 To some spot so hidden, that I fain would say 
 The world will know thee not; but if thou be- 
 ware 
 There is yet a time to change thy mode of life 
 If thou throw aside thy shams, 
 And stand forth for truth, and in the light. 
 Then perchance the world may see 
 Thy name in finest sight. So, my soul, 
 Put forth all thy strength, and fight 
 For the right, not as thy soul at present 
 Counteth right, but in God's light. 
 
 Come, sweetheart, come, and give 
 Of thy life's best love. We can wander 
 Into lands of light, that are garland 
 With roses all the way. We can sing 
 Of our heart's delight in notes 
 Not restrained. We can follow the rosy lights 
 That keep us ever trying to gain the heights. 
 Come, sweetheart, come with me and perchance 
 We may gain a star, in which to rest our love. 
 Just you my love, and me. 
 
 222 
 
my love of the desert wild, 
 
 1 am coming to thee. Coming as fast 
 As the time and space admit of me. 
 My heart is now with thee, 
 
 My soul pours out its best of offering 
 For thee. O my love of the desert, 
 Would I were with thee ! 
 
 The world is numbered in ones, twos and threes, 
 And if you watch each decade of time, 
 You will -find only a multiple of these. 
 
 O my darling I have waited ages and ages 
 For thee. Cast thou thy lot with me 
 And I will make a queen of thee. I stand 
 For purity of thought, and numbers of degree. 
 O my angel I have waited long for thee. 
 
 Come my soul of high desire. 
 Thou hast conquered all the foes 
 That have presented their finest sights 
 To thee. Thou hast striven for the right, 
 And truth has always been thy watchword free. 
 Come now, my soul, with me, and I 
 Thy reward will show to thee. 
 Thou shalt reach thy highest aim 
 In all thy striving, whate'er it be, 
 So come, my soul, and join thy forces 
 With me ! 
 
 223 
 
O that I could take thee in my arms 
 And crush thee to my heart. 
 To draw my life to thine, so that I 
 Could impart to thee of my strength 
 To thy very heart. 
 
 Drink, drink, my soul, thou hast need 
 
 Of the waters of life, to quench the fire 
 
 That rages with the heat and strife 
 
 Of the work-a-day life. Drink deeply 
 
 My soul, of the waters of life, 
 
 That thy energy may be gathered and stored 
 
 For thy future life, that will not always 
 
 Be of strife, or a work-a-day life. 
 
 Sweetheart, sweetheart, go on thy way, 
 And bring me a flower as bright as day. 
 I will always love thee while thou art away, 
 So sweetheart hasten to gather me the flower 
 By the way. 
 
 Come, come, out into the moonlight clear, 
 
 Let us watch the fairies, dear. 
 
 They are having such a revel and play 
 
 They would not mind our watching them, I say. 
 
 But if they do, we can quietly steal away. 
 
 I would give my higher forces sway, 
 If I were in a whirl, and did not 
 Know which way. I would rest my soul 
 224 
 
And not go fluttering round 
 
 A deep, dark hole, that might engulf my 
 
 Very life and soul. 
 
 There dwelt a sage in the years gone by 
 
 Whose task was not completed ere his soul 
 
 Mounted high. He gave many promises 
 
 And wide, beautiful thoughts, 
 
 Which most of the world forgot. 
 
 But his soul has never ceased to strive 
 
 For his tasks to be completed 
 
 And put forth to the world's wide eyes. 
 
 But a soul to impress with a love of his thoughts 
 
 Was a task at length. Now this sage of the 
 
 years 
 Past and gone, has discovered a life 
 That was born to put forth his song. 
 It was tortured and put through the fires of 
 
 Hell 
 To bring forth the purity of thought 
 He loved so well. 
 
 What art thou, to talk of caste? 
 
 Thou lowest of the earth, 
 
 Taking only for thy gain, 
 
 With never a thought of the pain thou hast 
 
 given, 
 And never a thought of shame for thy past. 
 What hast thou at heart, but thy pleasure 
 And lust, and gain of money with which not to 
 
 part, 
 
 225 
 
Only for thine own adornment. Of Art? 
 
 Why dost thou dare to talk of caste 
 
 In the least of part, thou adder of the heart ! 
 
 Thou wilt sting the truest friend, 
 
 Aye, even unto death, and then laugh 
 
 At thy part. But unto thee, not far hence 
 
 Will be measured out thy reward, 
 
 And the measure will be filled to its flowing out, 
 
 To all the world, thou adder of the heart! 
 
 In all things — even thoughts. 
 
 My friends, I would say, be moderate 
 
 Thoughts, who can follow a thought? 
 
 Always consider well thy ways. 
 As one never knows who is just around the 
 corner. 
 
 Ways, ways, always ways ! 
 
 Ah me, the time has come and gone, 
 
 I must away to gather strength 
 
 And fresh new energy, for hours 
 
 Of sweet communion with my dearest friends, 
 
 Qf all most true and tried. 
 
 Soul of my soul, where art thou? 
 Where art thou now? 
 Just to look at least upon thy face, 
 Thy face I worship so! 
 226 
 
My more than life, my love of loves, 
 
 My life of loves art thou! 
 
 If thou didst only know 
 
 How this poor heart did beat for thee, 
 
 Then thou wouldst surely come to me, 
 
 My love ! My soul of loves art thou ! 
 
 Oh my love, my life, my all in all ! 
 
 I pray you listen to my call 
 
 Of love so soft and low. 
 
 O love, my love, I love you so. 
 
 O that my soul were on its winged flight 
 
 Far above this earthly sight. 
 
 Far from all this maddening strife of life,. 
 
 This everlasting struggle to be first 
 
 In the fight of right and might! 
 
 And all this vying to do 
 
 What every other body does, 
 
 Or just a little better. All this feverish haste 
 
 And rush, this maddening rush for what? 
 
 To finally fold our hands and lay our burdens 
 
 down 
 With scarce a ripple of the waves. 
 
 Fate, what is Fate? 
 
 That to which we unconsciously are drawn, 
 
 Even though worlds separate. 
 
 Gradually we drift together, 
 
 We and our fate! 
 
 227 
 
Life? What is life, 
 
 But the mere breathing in 
 
 Of God's atmosphere. 
 
 " Worth while is every little thing, 
 
 So despise not even the smallest atom." 
 
 So saith one of our greatest minds. 
 
 This night will bring me to a sense of steady 
 
 light 
 That will glow forever in my sight. 
 Not these fleeting, changing dreams of light 
 That have flared before my view, but I shall 
 
 grasp 
 A permanent light of glorious hue. 
 
 God Divine will dwell within our hearts 
 If we but open wide the gates of Love 
 To all mankind, and give forth here and there 
 A word, a deed, of smallest part. 
 
 Free? We are never free! 
 Except from one bond into another. 
 
 What a difference another's coming " 
 
 Into our lives makes ! 
 
 A dream of joy, or an everlasting sorrow, 
 
 For we never quite lose the sense 
 
 Of a disappointed friendship ! 
 
 228 
 
Ah me, my mind is so full of beauty, 
 Flowers and color, I scarce can separate them 
 To put forth in words, to make a poem or a 
 song. 
 
 live with me, my love, and let us create 
 Some thoughts of peace and truth. 
 
 Some fine wide thoughts of love and life. 
 
 1 am sorely tired, 'twixt so many ways to go. 
 I know not which will lead me 
 
 To where I most desire to rest. 
 
 Each road has its inviting scenes 
 
 Beckoning me to travel on its paths. 
 
 If I could but see the end that each presents 
 
 Or the thorns along the paths, I still might 
 
 Hesitate. Who knows? 
 
 A day's dream, did you say, Ah me ! 
 I fear me it is so. I had hoped so high 
 Of a rest at last, with a soul of purity 
 And love. But you are keener visioned 
 Than I, and have read the heart aright. 
 
 On this fair, bright morning I shall see 
 
 Some of God's finest handiwork. 
 
 I shall sing in strains so fine, 
 
 Of all the things divine 
 
 That my soul in Heaven shall shine. 
 
 229 
 
I love to linger in the evening's falling shade, 
 Linger by the river's swiftly flowing tide. 
 To dream, and let my soul be bathed 
 In refreshing thoughts that come so pure and 
 sweet. 
 
 Swinging, swinging, lazily swinging, 
 
 Dreaming, dreaming, lazily dreaming 
 
 Of my love and her gold brown eyes and hair. 
 
 I wonder if in the morning I shall be 
 All enthroned in quiet and in shade, 
 And in perfect harmony shall dwell 
 All these heated Summer days. 
 
 The Lord is coming forth to herald to all the 
 
 world 
 The beauties of the sky, the wondrous light of 
 
 love 
 So far beyond the vision of our eyes. 
 Look thee well my soul, and thou shalt see 
 The vision of our God on high. 
 
 If I cou,ld only write of all the things 
 I can't quite grasp, O what exquisite pictures 
 I could pen, of all the finest, highest/ 
 Most ethereal things. 
 
 The way is long and wide, and I am sorely tried 
 By many who would incline my way. 
 230 
 
Not from any good to me, but just to make 
 A stumbling way, for my poor feet to tread, 
 So that my progress will be slow. 
 
 Sitting by the hearth, I dream the wildest 
 
 dreams 
 Of Love and Art. I fancy I can see 
 The shadows of a famous part that I might have 
 
 played 
 To the world's ever-searching gaze. 
 Of the hills I might have climbed 
 That led to the mountain's top. 
 Where I then could gaze beyond the highest 
 
 haze, 
 Into God's most glorious parts of Love and Art. 
 But I awake to sigh and to part, 
 From my shadowy dreams of Art. 
 
 My heart is light, and I am full of joy 
 Of the very living, in this land of love 
 And I pray that I may never lose my sight 
 Of the heart of hearts, my God above. 
 
 In the softly shaded wood, 
 There my soul expands. 
 I feel as though my life would be 
 Rested on a plane of thought 
 So broad and all inclusive, 
 That to conquer worlds, I could. 
 
 231 
 
O for more harmony of soul ! 
 So that the everlasting wearing 
 Of one's body, would be lessened. 
 So much strength and energy now is wasted, 
 In this continual warring of inharmonious 
 forces ! 
 
 O my darling sun of early light! 
 
 Thou dost bring forth such a world of thought! 
 
 Inspired by thy tones, all wrought 
 
 In an ever-changing scheme 
 
 Of exquisite scene! 
 
 The morning light is here, and I must soon away, 
 To duties new and old. I pray my day may not 
 
 be lost 
 To all the brighter cheer, nor yet a truth untold. 
 Give to me a strength, to carry all my trials 
 To the ocean of thy love, where they will be 
 
 merged 
 In thy ever-flowing tide, and I shall see only 
 The brighter side. I pray for patience with my 
 
 fellow men, 
 And that just to the smallest part, I may be to 
 
 them: 
 So that ere my head is pillowed for its nightly 
 
 rest, 
 God shall say " Thou hast given of thy best." 
 And then that my soul may mount on high, to be 
 
 refreshed, 
 Ere another morning's light draws nigh ! 
 232 
 
October's most welcome days are here. 
 The blue Indian haze will soon appear. 
 The nuts and leaves so brown, will to the earth 
 Be drawn, and all the trees stand out so bold 
 
 and free. 
 To be covered later by a winter's coat of snow 
 
 and ice. 
 But now, October, whilst thou art tinting all the 
 
 world 
 With such a loving hand, cast all thy brightest 
 
 sheen 
 Upon my life, and I shall praise thee forever. 
 Thou October days of warmest light ! 
 
 Come, come to me! Why dost thou 
 Stay so long from me? 
 What have I left undone for thee, 
 That thou shouldst desert of me? 
 O my soul of love, answer thou me ! 
 
 The way is fraught with many cares 
 Of body and of soul. I am lost amid them all. 
 But in my humble way, I shall stand 
 Finally above them, and they shall bend to my 
 call. 
 
 The way is lightened, and I see 
 
 With clear eyes, the thoughts of God, 
 
 Far, far beyond the skies ! 
 
 233 
 
Come, my friend, we will away 
 To the ocean's broad expanse, 
 And perchance we may find a light 
 To lead us to a clearer way. 
 
 I wonder if in all the world 
 There is a contented soul, 
 Resting in absolute peace 
 Of self control; control of desires 
 Which lead to all our trials of life. 
 I wonder if in this world of strife, 
 I might find a soul of like ! 
 
 Well, how goes the day, my dear? 
 
 Have you had your trials, or has it 
 
 Been a day of cheer ? God grant your skies 
 
 Are forever clear! 
 
 Striving, always striving, some for the right 
 Others not at all in the light, 
 But nevertheless they are striving 
 With all their might. 
 
 Mixing, mixing, mixing, that is the sadness of 
 
 life. 
 The ingredients are not always measured out 
 
 aright. 
 Mixing, mixing, mixing, so comes all our strife. 
 
 234 
 
Lonesome, darling, did you say ? Why, 
 
 When I am always by your side 
 
 To lighten all your way, 
 
 You must not be lonesome darling, 
 
 But always gay. Gay as a butterfly 
 
 On its winged way. 
 
 It has such a pitifully short life, 
 
 But thou hast such a long, long way. 
 
 Surely thou wilt not be lonesome 
 
 If I by thee stay! 
 
 Light, there are so many kinds of light, 
 
 That the world moves on, 
 
 To a beautiful intermingling 
 
 Of the most exquisite tones and shades. 
 
 The day is one to make the heart right glad 
 
 Of simple joys that are to be had. 
 
 The walk and talk, just to watch the busy throng 
 
 Hurrying to their pleasure of sight and song, 
 
 Give one a bright bit of life, 
 
 In this great wide city of pleasure and song! 
 
 Making one lose sight of the strife, 
 
 That we know is always along. 
 
 O my darling love, how could you be so cruel? 
 You turned the tide of public censure right my 
 
 way, 
 You put me in a position quite untrue, 
 You instigated things I should not do! 
 And then very quietly left me all the rue ! 
 235 
 
O my darling love, how could you be so short 
 
 of view, 
 Later you will have the rue! 
 
 The sun is breaking on the mountain tops, 
 
 The mists have lifted from off the sea, 
 
 And my thoughts are ever turning o'er to thee, 
 
 My precious Land of Liberty. 
 
 How I long to see thy shores, to walk thy paths 
 
 So free! I am full of a longing to soar 
 
 To see my old, old home once more. 
 
 My beautiful home, on the shore, 
 
 Of the ocean's great grand roar! 
 
 Come, come with the earth's fair dawn, 
 Stay not and waste these precious hours 
 But fly to the hills, and gather the rills 
 And trills of the earth's fair morn! 
 
 There is an old log cabin 
 
 Up among the hills, 
 
 Which contains the promise 
 
 Of a life of greater force 
 
 Of wider sight, than ever as yet 
 
 Has come to life. 
 
 In the West the blue night haze has not yet 
 
 gone. 
 In the East the day's fair dawn 
 Is slowly bringing into view, 
 236 
 
All the colors so fare and true. 
 
 The golden light that no one as yet 
 
 Has pictured quite aright. 
 
 There is a shading of tone brought out 
 
 By the lights behind the throne. 
 
 Now all are massing into a beautiful golden ball, 
 
 That gives forth its radiance to one and all, 
 
 From the glorious East, to Nature's call; 
 
 And the blue night haze has given place 
 
 To the glorious golden ball. 
 
 Good night, fair maid, peaceful be thy dreams, 
 Loving thoughts will follow thee 
 Through the long, long night. 
 Good night, fair maid, good night! 
 
 I should like to sound a note so sweet and clear 
 That it would reach to the hills, 
 And rest in the tree tops, 
 
 And bring forth all its trills ! 
 
 Come little boy, and say your prayer, 
 
 It is time and high, that you were safely 
 
 Tucked away in your little bed, 
 
 To dream of the fairies that dwell in the glen, 
 
 And only come out when the moon is at ten. 
 
 Some day when you have older grown 
 
 And the eyes will stay open till then, 
 
 You may remain up till ten. 
 
 237 
 
My love is now on the ocean wave, 
 Living the simple life so true. 
 
 God grant him the light to see this life 
 From thine own view. His life 
 
 Has been one great sham of the truth, 
 
 Never admitting the sun of thy heart. 
 
 Pray open his eyes to thy world's fair skies, 
 
 And give him of thy love's most precious part. 
 
 Teach him that simple things are true 
 
 And not to go back to find his art, 
 
 But onward, and forward ever, to the truth. 
 
 Love of my life, I come to thee, 
 
 In all my travails of life. 
 
 They are sore and many, and O so heavy, 
 
 1 can scarce creep along to thee ! 
 But soon, ah soon, I shall be free 
 
 To live, and to work alone, with thee! 
 Ah my love, it will soon be time 
 To throw aside all these bonds, and be free ! 
 Free, to come to thee ! 
 
 Free from all our cares, soon we all shall be. 
 
 In the glory of the early Autumn days, 
 
 They will bring such a change of bright good 
 
 things 
 That to us, wearied with the Summer heat 
 And burdened with our extra cares, 
 It will seem like Heaven, and the coming of our 
 
 King. 
 
 238 
 
Once there dwelt a man of wisdom, 
 
 In a forest home. 
 
 He ne'er aspired, or desired, 
 
 To own that forest or that home. 
 
 And thereby hangs a tale so long, 
 
 I must now decline it; 
 
 But some time later, I shall fully rhyme it! 
 
 Justice will be meted out some day, 
 
 The scales must balance to the finest grain, 
 
 So courage, my poor souls, who now are 
 
 weighted 
 Far, far down. You will rise to victory, 
 And your crown. 
 
 The greatest crown of all is Justice. 
 
 It levels all things, no matter how great or 
 
 small. 
 Injustice breaks down all fine forces of body 
 
 and mind. 
 
 Just, be always just, even to a penny, 
 And of thoughts, guard them well. 
 
 Love me all my life, In my care and strife, 
 In my beauty, and my fading light. 
 
 Three cheers for the girls in snowy white ! 
 They would make a gallant crew, 
 To propel a ship on the ocean blue. 
 239 
 
I will write a pretty story that will bring the 
 
 heart 
 To beauty and cleanness of thought. 
 Come, come my Muse, and stay with me? 
 I must work, work for victory. 
 
 Mauretta, thou must beware ! 
 
 Thou art treading on dangerous snares. 
 Thou art likely to be engulfed in a stream 
 That will lead to unknown realms of despair. 
 'Tis a short, easy road to go down, 
 But O so high and so steep, 
 
 1 fear me thou wouldst never be able 
 Again to climb to its peak. 
 
 So beware, beware, Mauretta, beware ! 
 
 My soul, thou hast lived many, many years 
 Of heartache and pangs of grief 
 From all thy friends, so-called. 
 But now thou wilt make some of steel, in truth, 
 And all will give to thee of thy soul's best call. 
 So take heart, and stand out bold and free, 
 To face them all! 
 
 My latest hope of a friendship deep, 
 Will open out to an exquisite fete 
 Of love and flowers of every hue, 
 And depths so sweet and true, that I 
 Shall be enraptured into writing 
 Something bright and entirely new, 
 To give to the world my exquisite view. 
 240 
 
O my love dost thou not know my heart 
 
 Is of such a simple part? A smile, a look 
 
 Dost make it start, and fly to thee, 
 
 My other heart! Dost thou not feel it 
 
 Nestle down so close to thee, 
 
 In all its loving art? 
 
 Canst thou not know it is all of love 
 
 And truth, and only for the better part? 
 
 O my love, thou must know my heart ! 
 
 Come to me my love, and I will cling so close 
 
 to thee, 
 That there will scarce be a breath 
 That can come between you and me. 
 So come, come, my love, and stay with me, 
 And in one eternal bliss we shall be. 
 
 The day is not of inspiration yet, 
 
 It is too cold and wet. 
 
 It dampens all ardor, yet before the day is spent, 
 
 We shall reap a harvest of good intent. 
 
 morn so bright, in thy glorious uprising, 
 
 1 know that thou wilt bring me something grand 
 
 and wide. 
 Something far beyond the now inscribed 
 
 Thoughts, 
 So I await the coming morn, with eager eyes 
 
 and heart. 
 
 2 J 
 
Sweet, sweet, up, and bright be thy day! 
 E'en though the sky be overcast. 
 Thy voice and brightness will spread sunshine 
 All the way! 
 
 Worth while? Why everything is worth while! 
 The poorest creature that walks the earth 
 Can find something worth while. 
 So say you not again, " It is not worth while." 
 
 The village street is gay 
 With all the folks from out of town. 
 For it is market day, and Peggy 
 With her wares so fine, 
 Seeks to delight the eyes of all the town, 
 And perchance to make a crown, 
 Peggy with eyes so brown ! 
 And the sweetest mouth of all the lassies 
 Around about the country side of Glen Alough. 
 Her ways would charm the sixpence 
 Out of the meanest miser of them all, 
 If her wares were not so fine a work of art 
 And love of heart. The butter, 
 And the curdled cheese, 
 The little cakes of toothsome sweet, 
 The rolls and bread of snowy wheat, 
 All arranged with flowers, and loving pride, 
 Make a picture fit for the king's own eyes. 
 So we need not fear that Peggy will have aught 
 To make her day, but one of heart's delight ; 
 And later, at the feast and dance, 
 242 
 
It is she who will shine out far in advance 
 
 Of any other lass, for Peggy is of high, high 
 
 class, 
 Who has stooped to the homelier tasks, 
 To lighten the burden of her shattered caste. 
 And some day she will reign, over another golden 
 
 train. 
 So good luck to Peggy, of Love and Art, 
 And may she always have the grace to fill her 
 
 part 
 In the world's great pageant to the heart of 
 
 hearts ! 
 
 Fine? Why everything is fine! 
 Even the smallest rhyme. 
 For it carries a line from this heart of mine. 
 And everything that comes from the heart 
 Is fine ! 
 
 The Lord is ever mindful of his flock, 
 
 And to those who do their duty, just and fair, 
 
 Comes He to them, with their full, full share. 
 
 O my child, be of good cheer, always! 
 Good cheer brings many blessings, 
 Not the least of these a happy heart. 
 
 The lights and shades that fall 
 From through the trees, 
 Are like our lives; so many touches 
 243 
 
Of pleasure, causing. a lightening 
 And lifting of the clouds 
 That ordinarily hang low 
 Over most lives. 
 
 In the morning, early as the dawn, 
 
 Then my thoughts will come to thee 
 
 With the brightness of a song, 
 
 Singing gloriously all the day long, 
 
 Of the beauty of the land, and sky and sea. 
 
 Of themes so wide, and fine and high, 
 
 That thy soul enraptured all will be; 
 
 And the world assume a color of so bright a 
 
 hue 
 That thine eyes can scarce command, 
 So accustomed are they to the gloom of our 
 
 daily view. 
 So arise my soul, with the early dawn, 
 And haste thee to thy lays of love, 
 And win a place among the most esteemed 
 Of God, in the high Heavens above ! 
 
 My heart is breaking with all this weight of 
 
 woe. 
 It has come, blow after blow, till I am numb 
 And bewildered. 
 I am bereft of all that I loved. 
 My days are one long dream of woe. 
 My nights are spent in the depths ! 
 O my heart is breaking 
 Why should this come, when all the skies 
 244 
 
Are so blue, and the grass of so vivid a hue, 
 
 When all things are springing into life 
 
 And the flowers are so exquisitely bloomed? 
 
 Why, O why should this sorrow 
 
 Come in with a rush and a whirl, 
 
 Taking in everything in its mad, mad swirl. 
 
 O my heart is breaking! 
 
 Is thy thirst aquenched? 
 
 Hast thou taken all thine own? 
 
 Wilt thou leave me an atom of peace 
 
 With which to rest my soul? 
 
 For it is pitifully tried on this wheel of woe. 
 
 So rest, rest, from thy sorrow, 
 
 For at last my heart is broken, I know. 
 
 Broaden out thy views, take a wider sight 
 
 Of all thy life. Think not so much 
 
 Of the everlasting to-morrow, or its strife. 
 
 Dost thou realize the truths that are given thee? 
 
 In the most unheard of times, 
 
 When they come so unheralded, they are of the 
 
 truest, 
 Finest kind. All great thoughts flow like water 
 From the fountain head. They have much to 
 
 cleanse 
 Upon their way, so that oft times they are lost 
 To sight, till the glory of God 
 
 Brings them forth to light ! 
 
 245 
 
Thou hast much to fight from all the planes, 
 A never ceasing fight, to pull thee down 
 From out thy skies of light. 
 But on and on, with courage go, 
 My soul of love will ever light thee on thy way, 
 A small, bright, glimmering star. 
 
 Yesterday methought my life was very drear 
 But to-day the sun shines bright and clear, 
 And I am moved to higher planes, 
 Ere another night draws near. 
 Life seems quite worth while, 
 All things are in a rosy light, 
 Just because the sun shines bright. 
 My sun, my darling sun of light ! 
 It brings a lesson strongly home to me, 
 And I must learn it right by sight, 
 That it is the sun and not the night, 
 That I must follow, if I would reach the highest 
 light. 
 
 Thou busy, busy bee ! 
 
 Thou hast drawn all the honey from the flowers 
 
 That I had hoped to gather for my sight. 
 
 Thou hast not left one little flower 
 
 To brighten out the night! 
 
 There is a river broad and wide, 
 Which flows with a swiftly flowing tide. 
 It leads to a southern clime 
 And eastern gaze. On the banks of the river 
 246 
 
Deep in shade, there stands a cottage 
 Among the glade, just a summer cottage 
 In its light and shade. 
 
 But in that cottage you will find contentment 
 With a quiet, peaceful age. 
 For within dwells a most renowned sage. 
 His vision of life is wide and long. 
 He counts the stars as a song. 
 His soul ascends to the Highest Throne, 
 And he gleans the words of God alone, 
 This sage who dwells in the cottage alone, 
 On the banks of the river broad and wide, 
 That carries content in its flowing tide, 
 Is never alone, for with him 
 God always abides! 
 
 There flows a river broad and long 
 Through a land of pure delight, 
 Where some day thou shalt dwell 
 In God's most perfect light. 
 
 Light on thy way, thou brilliant star ! 
 Thou emblem of a future life. 
 All filled with God, and light ! 
 
 Joy go with you in the morning ! 
 Joy go with you all the day! 
 Joy will be with you in the morning, 
 And for all time shall stay! 
 
 247 
 
Baby darling, come rock with me, 
 
 And we will journey far across the sea. 
 
 O such wonders we will find, 
 
 Just you and me, till the light grows dim, 
 
 And our eyes can scarcely see ! 
 
 Then we'll rest our travels, and gently, 
 
 Very gently rocked we'll be, 
 
 So come baby darling, just you, and me ! 
 
 Such brown little eyes, as they look up to me, 
 
 that I could know what is in store for thee. 
 
 1 pray thy life will rise and soar 
 Far out over this land so free! 
 My dear little brown eyed boy, 
 
 Of seven and three. 
 
 Well, sweetheart, how goes the way? 
 
 Are you happy, darling one, 
 
 In your travels of land and sea? 
 
 There are trials that come to all, my love, 
 
 We none can walk in the least little bit free. 
 
 So be happy, darling one, 
 
 And I soon shall dwell with thee. 
 
 Dream on, my soul, dream on! 
 You will soon awake to a bliss untold 
 Of beauty and love divine ! 
 So dream, dream, my soul, 
 Of all that will be thine, 
 
 When thou awake in this glorious world of 
 mine. 
 
 248 
 
This beautiful land so far beyond the sea, 
 As yet undiscovered, except by me, 
 And O, how happy we shall be, you and I, 
 In this beautiful world of mine. 
 Where all is peace and freedom 
 From the cares of your present life, 
 Which now is so filled with sorrow and strife. 
 There you will join with me 
 In the wandering beauty of life, 
 With never a stake or cord to bind 
 To the old, sad, life. 
 
 So dream, -dream, my soul, until thou awake 
 To thine, and mine! 
 
 The sun will set upon a world of splendor 
 
 Such as never before has been seen. 
 
 The rivers broad, will laden be 
 
 With crafts of every sort and sheen. 
 
 The lights will blaze along the streets, 
 
 The bands will play, with vigor, 
 
 And with hearts so free. The world will cheer, 
 
 And cheer, and all put forth their songs of glee, 
 
 As a tribute to the men of early years, 
 
 Whom so little glory then did see. 
 
 They were scoffed at, and reviled, 
 
 Were their efforts, to broaden out 
 
 The fields of travel and of view. 
 
 They suffered hunger, and the critics' 
 
 Sharpest points, were aimed directly 
 
 At their hearts so true. 
 
 But now comes honor and this grand review. 
 
 249 
 
And their souls may well rejoice, 
 From their higher view. 
 
 The Aerial Club have a wide expanse to travel, 
 
 And a host of worlds to explore. 
 
 The beauty and wonders of the like 
 
 Have never been heard of before. 
 
 So they must make haste to perfect 
 
 Their ships, and explore. 
 
 Let them watch the birds, 
 
 For a small, small thing, 
 
 That will enable them to rise, and wing. 
 
 To soar or to drop, for one foot or ten, 
 
 It will be all the same to them. 
 
 To sail straight on, and out, or up 
 
 They must study carefully, 
 
 The smaller things of wings. 
 
 Good luck to you all, my friends 
 
 Of the latest and finest 
 
 Of all modern things. 
 
 God gave us all a part to play 
 Before the world's wide eyes. 
 Not perhaps in just the way 
 That we would deem the best, 
 To show our talents to those eyes. 
 But He, whose wisdom 
 Far exceeds the skies, 
 Knows best! 
 
 250 
 
So count not out the smallest part, 
 For it may lead direct 
 To the heart of hearts. 
 For in my small part, 
 I believe God to be 
 
 The heart of hearts ! 
 
 Soft and long, soft and long, 
 
 Come the words of the whispering song. 
 
 Trilling along on the wings of the morn. 
 
 Whispering words of loving cheer, 
 
 Bringing messages from far and near, 
 
 All on the wings of the morn. 
 
 Soft and long, soft and long, 
 
 Are their carols of song, 
 
 These whispering winds of the early morn! 
 
 Soft and long, soft and long, 
 
 With the first stroke of day, 
 
 They whisper their way, 
 
 To the heart of the one, tuned 
 
 So that on its strings they can play, 
 
 These whispering winds of the early morn. 
 
 Soft and long, soft and long, 
 
 Whispering the notes of a great, 
 
 Grand melody of song. 
 
 To carry one's soul along 
 
 To the portals of God's most magnificent throne, 
 
 These whispering winds of the early morn. 
 
 Soft and long, soft and long, 
 
 Are their calls to the sleeping throng, 
 
 To inspire them to words 
 
 251 
 
Of God's beauty, and song, 
 
 These whispering winds of the early morn. 
 
 Heat, heat, go away! 
 
 Thou must not stay so long. 
 
 But give place to a cooling breeze, 
 
 Which will carry us along 
 
 To the Autumn days 
 
 Of falling leaves, and song. 
 
 Never mind, my love, 
 
 Your time will come 
 
 To do your work 
 
 In rhyme and song. 
 
 So do not haste thee, 
 
 But saunter, all the way along. 
 
 I would that I can stand upon a snowy peak 
 And wrap myself in the fleeing clouds 
 To shut out all this oppressive heat, 
 
 And noise about. 
 I then could stand upon a higher plane, 
 And my thoughts would go to God. 
 
 Rejoice, my soul, My heart sing out for joy ! 
 My King is coming on the wings of love. 
 To bring me sweet assurance of loyalty, 
 From all my subjects, far and wide. 
 
 252 
 
So sing out my soul ! Sing out for joy, 
 My King is coming from on high, 
 With all the messages of love and light, 
 To lead my soul to perfect sight. 
 
 All honor is due to thee ! 
 Thou brave men, who battled 
 
 So valiantly 
 Against all thy foes. 
 Thou hast conquered, 
 And at last the honor 
 
 Is for thee ! 
 
 The day is a fine forerunner of Fall, 
 Of the glorious, free high winds, 
 In the trees so tall. 
 
 Of the snapping, bracing air, 
 Of the walks in the wood, all bare 
 And brown, with the crunch of the leaves, 
 As our steps go on, and on, and around, 
 To catch the last bright leaf, 
 In its scarlet coat of the wind's bright song. 
 So with love and good cheer, 
 We hail thee, thou glorious Autumn morn! 
 
 Come, come, Cheer? Must I go after thee? 
 And drag, with all my powers of thought, 
 To bring thee to my love of heart? 
 Stay not, friend Cheer, but come 
 
 From love of thine own heart I 
 
 253 
 
Flow on, thou current of thought, 
 Into channels broad and wide. 
 And let nought but the good abide. 
 
 Flutter, flutter, O so gay! 
 So these people are whirling 
 All their life away. 
 
 Alas, where will we find a friend, 
 
 Of purity of thought, 
 
 Or at least with just a kindly thought! 
 
 People, mostly, are a selfish lot, 
 
 Ever looking for some gain, 
 
 Or to use us for their pleasure, 
 
 Giving us, no matter how much pain 
 
 But if we do perchance 
 
 Find a friend of pure unselfish heart, 
 
 God help us to cherish it, 
 
 And to do our part! 
 
 Coming, O my Love, in answer to thy call. 
 Coming on the wings of Love, 
 Eager are my eyes, my Love, 
 Searching all along the way 
 For the first, sweet, far-distant 
 Echo, of thee, My Love, so gay. 
 
 Gray and overcast, the day, my thoughts 
 Are sad, and wander far away, 
 To distant friends in other lands. 
 254 
 
I wonder if my thought will carry straight, 
 
 To bring me back a sweet return 
 
 Of loving grace, that they 
 
 May in their turn send out to me, 
 
 Their friend across the sea. 
 
 My mind is stayed upon a restful clime. 
 I am in full command of all my lands. 
 They are provided for the Winter's feast 
 Of snow and ice, as the cold increase. 
 I pray we may have a winter of peace 
 And cares go far into space; 
 So that we may learn of our Maker's grace 
 In this winter of Thanksgiving mirth 
 
 And Christmas birth! 
 
 Sight! O that we were all gifted 
 
 With a keener sight! 
 
 A command of the voices of God in the night. 
 
 We all might glean of the truths that fly, 
 
 The beautiful thoughts that come in the 
 
 night. 
 To all who are gifted with a keener sight. 
 
 The River of Life runs steadily on its course, 
 Never heeding the storm or strife, 
 It runs so smoothly on, with its life. 
 We treat it with all contempt. 
 We neglect it to the last long extent, 
 And still it runs on, with its life! 
 But some day it meets a barrier 
 255 
 
Too high for its course, 
 
 And the River of Life is spent I 
 
 Darling, tell me of thy love! 
 
 Is it very, very deep, 
 
 And are you growing, not to sleep, 
 
 But to dream only of thy love? 
 
 Or is it just a passing fancy 
 
 That will wing itself out, like a dove? 
 
 O thou Sea! How free are thy waves! 
 They dash and break, and roll and roar, 
 And are as calm and smooth as glass — 
 But yet they obey a rule, 
 As sure as the morn and night. 
 
 Glory, glory be to God on High, 
 
 All his Angels sing. 
 
 Glory, Glory be to God ! 
 
 Is their never waning theme. 
 
 Come, come, dear one, 
 
 You must enlivened be ! 
 
 You are not to give way 
 
 To the " Bad Old Man of the Sea." 
 
 For he is as bad, 
 
 As he can be! 
 
 My soul is sighing for a clearer way, 
 A straighter path of even growth, 
 256 
 
With no steps or stones to mar the way. 
 Only a long green stretch of grass 
 Where my tired spirit could refreshed be. 
 O my God, I pray thee, show me such a path ! 
 
 Darling, darling baby, come to me, 
 And let me soothe the cares away. 
 Let me draw thee to my breast, 
 And whisper love, and rest! 
 
 My love, I wish we were together 
 
 In the same ecstatic plane, so that we 
 
 Could wander at our will, 
 
 With no distracting influence near. 
 
 We could create some fine high thoughts 
 
 To send forth in song and strain of beauty 
 
 So divine, that all would take into their souls 
 
 The glory of their God, and live with him. 
 
 My heart is nigh to breaking 
 For all my hopes are dashed to death. 
 My heart, be still! Peace, peace! 
 Or I shall wish thee ne'er another beat 
 
 To make for me ! 
 
 There was a beautiful star 
 In the high, high heavens above. 
 It shone with such a pure white light 
 And so steady a gleam, 
 That it entered the hearts of men, 
 257 
 
To guide and guard them in their dreams ; 
 Dreams of fame, of fortune, love and name. 
 
 Loving, loving, all the day! 
 
 Loving, loving, all the way! 
 
 So we go, my love and I, 
 
 Into the coming of the perfect day, 
 
 When we shall be all enthroned with Thee 
 
 In Thy love on high. 
 
 Our lives are one great struggle 
 
 To be in the line. 
 
 But if we could only know 
 
 The bliss of standing out alone 
 
 Free and to ourselves, 
 
 We would haste us far 
 
 From all confining of our souls. 
 
 Lines? What are lines? 
 The less the better! 
 Short but to the point ! 
 
 There was a pearl of greatest price, 
 
 Set in a star of dazzling light, 
 
 In which the pearl very modestly shrank from 
 
 sight. 
 But the pearl had a sheen, 
 And such a pure, silvery light, 
 That the dazzling star could not hide it from 
 
 sight. 
 
 258 
 
Sweet be thy dreams, and God be with thee 
 
 ever! 
 Through the long night hours, 
 Hours when the fancies roam afar, 
 To seek the most distant star, 
 Or trail along the ground, to hunt out the snares 
 That impede us all the day along. 
 Whiche'er it be, may God's blessing always rest 
 
 With thee ! 
 
 Good night, my Love, and may thy dreams 
 Be on the wings of love and light, 
 My Love, 
 
 Good Night! 
 
 Drowsing along a country road, 
 
 I dream sweet dreams of thee. 
 
 Dreams in which thou art enthroned 
 
 Among the roses of the earth, 
 
 High and free. To spread thy perfume 
 
 At thy will. Alas, my love, 
 
 They are as yet but dreams. 
 
 Dreams that will soon glide 
 
 Into fine, high realities. 
 
 The roads that lead to the finest views 
 Are never smooth, or easy to travel. 
 
 Fraught with sighs are all our lives 
 But here and there runs a streak so fair 
 That the world forgets its sighs. 
 259 
 
Heart, heart, do not bother me so! 
 I wish you would go right on, 
 With never a look to the right or left 
 And none of this jumping up and down. 
 But you are such a susceptible thing, 
 Always fluttering so, and causing me 
 
 No end of woe! 
 
 Living by the water, you will gain new life 
 To carry you through the coming strife. 
 But never fear, you will stand at the topmost 
 
 step 
 Amid the things you most love best. 
 
 I will wander far to-day, 
 
 My soul shall soar on high, 
 
 To catch the thoughts of love sent out 
 
 For such as I. 
 
 Tide, tide, in its ceaseless coming in, 
 
 And going out, how like are we, poor mortals 
 
 Only most of us leave less of a mark. 
 
 The day is fair and clear, 
 With a sky so blue, of azure hue 
 That I am tempted far to roam 
 In the woods and by the lake, 
 
 To dream of Home! 
 
 260 
 
Such exquisite clouds of fleecy whiteness, 
 
 With just a rim of gold, 
 
 Are floating all above me, 
 
 In a sky of opal tint and glow. 
 
 And I can only wonder if the tones 
 
 Are oft reflected in our lives. 
 
 We are moved to higher thoughts of life, 
 
 To deeds of kindness, and not of strife. 
 
 To loving all our fellow men, 
 
 Which requires more of strength of will 
 
 Than the ordinary heart can lend, 
 
 Without the never-failing stimulus 
 
 Of God's most perfect harmonizing 
 
 Of earth, and sky and sea, 
 
 And all things that, created He. 
 
 The day is one of God's most perfect part, 
 The air is clear, the sky so blue, 
 It fairly radiates to all its heavenly hue. 
 The shadows fall in brightest spots of green, 
 As I ne'er have seen. Giving all 
 The glowing teen. Putting our souls in har- 
 mony 
 Of thought, and love, and peace serene. 
 So that we may bless our God, 
 For all his gifts of light and love; 
 And bend our knee to Him in adoration 
 
 And in love 
 
 261 
 
I would that I could see the distant veil 
 
 Of cloud, lifted high, so that I 
 
 Could pierce the future, and see with just mine 
 
 eyes, 
 The wonders and the beauties of the skies. 
 I would do for all mankind, in perfect love 
 And care, and help them on to the glory 
 It is theirs to share. 
 
 We all shall wander by the lake, 
 
 In the moon's soft glimmering light. 
 
 And perchance shall take a flight 
 
 Far out into the night, 
 
 On the water so soft and light. 
 
 Then will come the thoughts 
 
 Of inspiration so high and bright 
 
 That will take us home to light. 
 
 To light of all things right! 
 
 The Muse of Love is always on the wing 
 To alight where'er she may. 
 
 O to create something that would for all time 
 
 stand 
 A pillar straight and high. 
 
 Straight with the everlasting truth! 
 
 To Mrs. Day:— 
 
 A very fine high soul, who some day 
 Will awake to command. 
 262 
 
Awake to the latent powers within 
 
 And grasp the higher thoughts of God; 
 
 And then will come the reward 
 
 Of all who dwell with Him. 
 
 Unselfishness pays better than any other invest- 
 ment. 
 
 Doing good for good's sake, brings an ever- 
 lasting reward. 
 
 I sigh for a spot among the trees, 
 
 I know just the dearest nook. 
 
 The road dips so deeply, but lower still 
 
 The Brook runs on, and thickest green 
 
 Surrounds the path between. 
 
 So I will away, to dream of thee, 
 
 Within its shade so free. 
 
 The leaden light of night is coming on apace. 
 The dull gray light of storm. 
 The ocean waves are cold, and rolling in 
 So strong, break high, in thundering waves 
 Of storm ! The lightning's vivid streaks 
 Are glancing here and there, the thunder 
 Booming out its song; and soon will come 
 The torrents of the storm, refreshing 
 All the earth within its bounds. 
 
 Passion! The word awakening 
 Such exquisite thrills of creative power, 
 263 
 
If rightly used, can be productive 
 
 Of endless good to the soul, 
 
 Instead of degrading the body, as is now 
 
 The practice of so many. 
 
 O that the world would awake 
 
 To the God within them, and use it 
 
 To their higher development. 
 
 Come, be gay, and help to brighten out 
 
 The city's festive scene. 
 
 Each soul but tends to swell 
 
 The honor to the now unseen. 
 
 So come and join the throng, 
 
 And add your voices 
 
 To the great and gladsome song 
 
 O my love, come to me ! 
 
 In the twilight's darkening shade 
 
 When the shadows fall so gently 
 
 Over all the space. 
 
 We will wander through the gardens 
 
 Of love, and drink deeply of the springs, 
 
 Springs of love and joy. 
 
 So come, my love, 
 
 Come in the softly mellowing light, 
 
 And love, love, love! 
 
 O come and we will breast the ocean's waves 
 Together, love. It will give new life 
 To all our hopes, so great and high. 
 We will lose this dull inertia and gain 
 264 
 
New courage, to brave all our trials ; 
 
 Trials that come to one and all; 
 
 So come, my love, and not delay, 
 
 For now the tide is high, and full of life 
 
 Of which we will imbibe, in every little cell ; 
 
 So come, come, my love, away, 
 
 While the tide is high! 
 
 The noon of life is one in which to grasp 
 Every golden opportunity, for it is the last 
 In which they are presented. After that 
 They cease to be golden, and may only be 
 
 grasped 
 By very arduous labor and travail of soul. 
 
 May God's blessing always rest with you, 
 And may your soul in its last flight 
 Wing its way to HIM, in perfect peace, 
 
 Truth and light! 
 
 Love, O my Love, wilt thou not come 
 And answer to my call, my call of love? 
 And all my world shall shine, 
 If thou but send me just a word of thine. 
 
 To the lulling of the wind 
 Among the tree-tops, 
 
 Soars my soul on high! 
 
 265 
 
The day dawns bright and clear, 
 I am full of hope and cheer, 
 Hopes that long have lain 
 Softly covered with a cloud, 
 
 I will guide and guard you always 
 In all your paths. 
 
 Paths of roses they will be! 
 
 Weeds are to all good purposes, serving to 
 Accentuate the beauty of the flowers. 
 
 Sing sweetly, O my precious bird! 
 Sing, oh sing to me, 
 
 Of thy love and purity. 
 Warble forth thy songs to all the world, 
 For the gilded cage 
 
 Will not hold thee! 
 
 Oft I hear the faintest note 
 Of a chord of music, so divine, 
 That I start, and listen, 
 
 Listen, for the coming strain! 
 
 God's will be my will, God's way be my way, so 
 That in his love I may abide. 
 
 Dear, you are so highly attuned, I fear 
 You often reflect many inharmonious things. 
 
 266 
 
Purity is like unto nothing else. There is 
 absolutely nothing to compare with purity of 
 thought and deed. 
 
 Loving, loving, all the day, 
 Naught else counts to me. 
 
 The finest of all sentiments is love, 
 Transforming a waste into a glorious green. 
 
 Woman is an exquisite theme 
 On which to play. 
 
 I see a beautiful star, 
 
 Away in the dim, dim distance. 
 
 Away, away with dull care, 
 And let us take a day so free. 
 
 I wonder where my love is staying 
 
 All these days. 
 I miss his bright and happy face 
 And all his dear caressing ways. 
 
 But alas we often forfeit 
 What is most in heart, 
 By our eager grasp for gain — 
 And in so doing, all the beauty 
 
 Of the soul is lost. 
 267 
 
I will wander by the brook, 
 Where the wild flowers grow 
 
 So sweet and lowly. 
 And the birds are wont to gather 
 For their songs of love. 
 
 I will wander by the brook, 
 In the evening's silent shade, 
 Where all is rest, and peace, 
 
 And love. 
 
 The world moves on in regal splendor of in- 
 vention, none more marvelous than the latest. 
 
 It will bring all nations into one, cutting all 
 the length of travel into space so small, that 
 immediately will begin a search for other worlds, 
 which will be rewarded by a find of such things 
 of wonder, as never have been dreamed of. 
 
 You can see the radiance of a Godlike soul, 
 miles away. 
 
 I love to wander so slowly 
 Among the rare old works of art, 
 To drink in each beauty 
 
 Of touch and part. 
 It takes my soul to the Creator's heart. 
 I know his every hope and despair, 
 His joy and his heart are everywhere. 
 
 268 
 
Words mean all, or nothing. A word has 
 often changed the course of an entire life. 
 
 Song, song, how it carries us along, 
 On its harmonious flight. 
 
 Poppies are the essence 
 
 Of all languor's beauty. 
 
 Apropos of what you call fate, two roads 
 are mapped out for each soul: one leading to 
 higher developments, the other, the lower road, 
 which often looks very inviting with its cool 
 shade, but ending in nothing, absolutely nothing 
 — and I am sorry to say that many choose the 
 lower road. 
 
 This proves the faith of the saying : " There 
 is good in every soul." It is entirely of our 
 own, to make or mar. 
 
 I never saw a greater charm than now, 
 In all the country 'round about. 
 The grass was never quite so green 
 Or the flowers so profuse. They seem 
 To have already caught the spirit 
 
 Of the coming dawn! 
 
 Violets, to me, are the daintiest little things, 
 growing down so near to earth, yet absorbing 
 all the beauty and color of the sky. 
 269 
 
The birds are not more full of song, 
 
 Than you, my dear. 
 And some day you will charm the ear, 
 
 Of all who hear. 
 Charming, charming, all their care away, 
 By the swaying of your voice, 
 
 So dear. 
 
 Oh the beauty of sailing 
 
 Through the air! 
 Cutting space like mist. 
 
 Oh the grandeur of the views 
 On our travels, far and wide! 
 
 Some day, not far hence, we will travel all 
 above the earth and sky, with the ease of birds, 
 flying at our will. 
 
 There is a land of such amazing bliss, 
 
 The soul can never die. 
 
 But on, and on, to perfect harmony, 
 
 In earth and heaven above. 
 
 There no sorrow walks hand in hand with joy, 
 All is perfect peace, and love and bliss. 
 
 On a summer night, 
 The warm wind blowing off the sea, 
 270 
 
How my thoughts will wander off to thee! 
 Wander to thy soul, my love, 
 
 And to thy purity! 
 Dost thou catch them in their flight, 
 Across the waters wide? Dost thou caress 
 Them in thy soul, imparting of thy life? 
 I am so sure of their return, ladened 
 With thy love and light, 
 That here I sit, hand in hand, 
 
 With night! 
 
 Oh my baby darling! Did you hurt yourself? 
 It is ever so. All explorers have their griefs. 
 
 The time is drawing nigh 
 
 When I shall see my wildest hopes 
 
 Fulfilled. 
 
 The sunshine of a soul so steeped in God's 
 perfume, that it permeates every corner of its 
 dwelling, is a blessing to be greatly desired. 
 
 Darling, think of me, 
 
 Every little while, 
 And I will rest you, 
 
 In my arms of love. 
 
 My soul has always longed to soar 
 
 In song, 
 And now I shall fly so high, that I 
 Can listen to the angels' song of God 
 
 On high. 
 271 
 
The day is warm and bright 
 And my love must not delay. 
 Haste thee to thy tasks inscribed 
 On the tablet for to-day. 
 
 I will sing songs of love to thee, 
 
 So low and sweet, so long and strong, 
 
 That you will leave your land, 
 
 And come to me. 
 
 The night is here with its cooling breeze, and 
 we are again refreshed after a season of heat, 
 and intense atmosphere. 
 
 Exquisite! So are you my darling! 
 Exquisite in every shade, tone and texture! 
 
 Go, my love, and wander 
 
 Where thy impulse prompts thee to. 
 
 You will find a blessing far beyond 
 
 Your wildest hopes. 
 
 The birds are singing 
 Oh, so sweetly, 
 
 In the early dawn. 
 When the life is full of sweetness, 
 
 And of song. 
 
 Loving thoughts, my friends, spread like fire, 
 taking in everyone and everything, on its way; 
 2.72 
 
so do not be afraid to scatter them at will — 
 they consume the evil and the good. 
 
 Please put me to sleep, darling, 
 I am so very tired. 
 
 Rock me in thy loving arms, darling, 
 As if I were a child. 
 
 Every leaf and stone, 
 
 And the swaying of the wind, 
 
 Suggests a poem. 
 
 I never could understand the indifference 
 with which people receive the blessings poured 
 upon them. 
 
 Loving, loving, seems to be my theme, 
 There are so many melodies to work out 
 
 From it! 
 
 Pink is a color inspiring perfect harmony of 
 thought. It will put a whole roomful of inhar- 
 monious people in a dreamy state. 
 
 Try it! 
 
 Tune your hearts so that God can play upon 
 the strings, and the music will be divine, cre- 
 ating a perfect harmony of life, peace and love. 
 
 273 
 
A poem of color, so faint, 
 As to be hardly perceptible. 
 
 Flutter, flutter, flutter, 
 Butterfly so gay, 
 Sipping here and there, 
 Taking all the sweetness, 
 
 Far away. 
 
 Haste thee, for thy life is short, 
 
 Thou must not linger long, 
 
 For the day will soon be done — 
 
 And then thou must depart, 
 
 To give place to other butterflies, 
 
 Of art. 
 
 The morning sun is breaking 
 Through the clouds of night. 
 
 So with all our lives. 
 There must be a rising of our sun, 
 
 After a dark, dark night. 
 
 Thou art so rugged, yet be careful of a blow, 
 
 Thou wilt be tried, ah, sorely tried, 
 
 E'en that thy heart will nearly break. 
 
 But put thy faith upon thy God, and all else 
 
 Will count as nought. 
 Thy best beloved son is not destined to be 
 A man of rugged growth, and free ; but yet 
 His soul will soar to heights unknown, 
 
 And astonishing, beyond degree. 
 274 
 
There is a little stile, 
 
 Beyond a garden gate — 
 
 Where I love to while away the hours, 
 
 With my sister (?) Kate. 
 
 I have so many sisters in this land of love, 
 
 I wonder if they'll all remember me, above. 
 
 TRUTH. 
 
 There is a solemn truth that all must know. 
 The difference between right and wrong is so 
 slight, the finest hair divides the two, and each 
 travels side by side, with every soul. 
 
 On each decision rests the final goal, so, one 
 and all, mark you well the smallest choice. 
 
 Woman! Who, or what language, is wide 
 enough to express her? 
 
 To W. J. O. : 
 
 Onward, ever onward, 
 So thy march must be ! 
 Till thou hast gained 
 
 The heights of victory. 
 
 It is well to rest the eternal strife for gain, 
 for in so doing, we often find ourselves. 
 
 The tide has turned, and is coming in, 
 Bringing such a fine haul of fish 
 275 
 
So fair and fat, as to bring joy 
 
 To the heart of the weary fisherman. 
 
 The pathway of life is studded with nails; 
 some to be carefully hammered down by 
 friends : others stand with boldness, to enter the 
 hearts of men. 
 
 Dear little butterfly! Fluttering, fluttering 
 around so gaily. Take all the joy thou canst; 
 thy time is so pitifully short. 
 
 Light? You have had much light poured 
 upon you, my friend, but it, as yet, has not 
 pierced the innermost. When it does, you will 
 understand the meaning of Light! 
 
 Soul of my soul, where art thou now? 
 I fain would walk with thee 
 
 In the Garden of the Gods. 
 
 Canst thou not hear me, 
 When I plead with thee, 
 
 To come and leave all else for me? 
 
 Thy gain thou canst not measure 
 If thou wouldst walk with me. 
 
 2y6 
 
Oh soul of my soul, why art thou so blind 
 To the beauties of God so divine, 
 Come, come, my soul, break all thy fetters 
 
 For me ! 
 
 The waves are lapping softly 
 
 On the shore 
 
 But later they will rise in might 
 
 And rushing swiftly on, 
 
 Will break in mountains 
 
 Of exquisite foam. 
 
 Funny, funny things, are coming o'er the sea, 
 Bringing tales of wonder! 
 
 Whatever can they be? 
 They look not just like anything 
 That I have ever seen — 
 But are such queer, wide-spreading things! 
 
 Oh, I have it now ! 
 They are airships sailing on so fine, 
 In this wonder-working age of thine ! 
 
 The way was long, and the night was dark, 
 
 But I had my task to do. 
 
 It is done, and I am free ! Free ! 
 
 Do not allow your mind 
 To be controlled by all 
 Who come and go — but 
 Stand up in thy strength 
 ALONE! 
 277 
 
The Beauty of Loving 
 
 the 
 
 Lowly and Dozvntrodden 
 
 is 
 
 Like a Welling up of Clear Water 
 
 to the 
 
 SOUL. 
 
 The poetry of thought stamps itself ineffably 
 on one's surroundings. 
 
 The world is in a grand stage of develop- 
 ment; a spiritual awakening of such stupendous 
 growth, that the very atmosphere will be puri- 
 fied with the flood of pure thought. 
 
 Smiles are reflections of God's love, wrapping 
 all in a mist of finest gauze, which veils, but does 
 not hide^ 
 
 Come, my Daughter, 
 
 and 
 
 we will walk in the Garden of 
 
 GOD 
 
 and pluck of the flowers 
 
 that grow 
 
 beside all its 
 
 Paths. 
 
 278 
 
Kicking, always kicking, 
 Is my baby boy so dear — 
 Such a clever little rascal, 
 He will surely make a name, 
 From sheer force, 
 
 Of " kicking " into fame ! 
 
 Dogs are such beautiful companions, sharing 
 all our sorrows and joys; so wistful when we 
 are sad, and so appreciative of a frolic and run ; 
 faithfully watching all our cares (for possessions 
 are cares) and never intruding upon us when 
 we wish to be silent and free. 
 
 I fain a line would write, 
 Of many, many things — 
 Of so wonderful a clime, 
 And grandeur, and such bliss, 
 That the language we possess, 
 Is scarce wide enough to express. 
 
 Charity. What is charity? The giving of 
 what we do not desire ourselves ! 
 
 Gold and silver, naught have I 
 But of love and truth, 
 
 A never ending supply. 
 
 279 
 
The opal's most exquisite fire 
 Takes one back to centuries 
 
 O'er the sea, 
 To the land of mystery. 
 
 What more have I? Have I not fought 
 Through this, in the days that are past 
 
 And gone? 
 
 The simplest truths are the greatest, 
 
 Which applies also to souls. 
 
 Everything is taking on new life. A silent 
 force, so strong and wide, is pervading all the 
 land — a force, so all-inclusive, that the small- 
 est atom will imbibe its life. 
 
 A very dear little Inn, situated on a fine ex- 
 panse of green, is such a welcome sight to a 
 weary traveler; so truth and love are to the 
 weary soul, wearied with the everlasting fight. 
 
 the beauty of the clouds! 
 
 The swiftly changing scenes ! 
 
 Did you ever try to picture, 
 
 All they possibly could mean? 
 
 O! my love is like a fair Greek God. 
 
 1 would that his soul expand, 
 
 To the light of day. 
 280 
 
He does not realize the heights he might attain, 
 If he but throw his shams away. 
 
 I pray his God will awake the soul 
 That has lain in rest so long, 
 
 And teach it how to fly. 
 I know that my prayer will be answered some 
 
 day, 
 If not in this plane, then in the next. 
 
 'Twas all on a summer morn. 
 
 Just this way: 
 
 I was cantering along 
 
 On my horse of bay: 
 
 She was strolling o'er the fields, 
 
 As gay and happy as the day was long. 
 
 But need I tell the rest? 
 
 Now on earth there was a flower, 
 Of beauty rare and rich 
 But so lowly in its growth, 
 And so modest in its mien 
 That few discerned the beauty 
 
 Of its perfume, 
 Hidden there so deep. 
 
 You are destined to be, 
 Such a light of love to me, 
 And all the land. 
 That none will say a word 
 
 Of aught but praise of thee. 
 281 
 
My love is always with me 
 
 In my dreamy state, 
 Then I seem to see so clearly, 
 
 All the things of fate. 
 
 Oh you darling, blessed baby, 
 How I love your soul ! 
 It is so filled with purity and grace, 
 That the angels do extol. 
 
 The birds are all of a quiver, 
 The leaves are all dancing with joy, 
 For my love is coming, 
 
 Coming to me! 
 
 There was a little girl, 
 That I once knew. 
 She never would be satisfied 
 Till all the fairy tales 
 
 Came true! 
 
 Swaying, swaying, swaying, 
 So is all our life, 
 First in one direction, 
 Then slightly to another. 
 Swaying, swaying, swaying, 
 
 So is all our life! 
 
 2&2 
 
Fight, oh fight, my soul, 
 
 But on the plane of honesty, 
 
 And truth! 
 
 For you, my love is burning, 
 Burning all away! 
 For you will not listen 
 To anything I have to say. 
 
 Joy, just Joy! 
 
 Joyous be thy song on high, 
 For the Lord is coming to His own 
 To bestow a blessing, such as 
 Never has been known. 
 
 Ring all the bells of joy, 
 
 For the Lord is coming to His own. 
 
 Oh my darling, you are far, far 
 
 On the long White Road, 
 
 And soon will come to the rest, 
 
 Within the Gates. 
 
 Birds fluttering so gracefully, 
 Singing so madly, but oh, so sweetly, 
 Teach us a fine lesson, 
 To be grateful for small things. 
 They add so much to the beauty and song of 
 Life. 
 
 283 
 
Ofttimes I am aweary 
 
 Of all the pomp of life; 
 
 And then I send my soul to God, 
 
 For refreshing light. 
 
 In the shimmering moonlight, 
 When all is bathed in silver, 
 Then the fairies come 
 From every dell and dale, 
 All to gather for a revel, 
 Of their dance and song. 
 Oh that we were as full 
 Of such sweet, sweet song, 
 And gay and happy mirth! 
 
 Oh my darling, with thy blessing, 
 I will walk the path with thee, 
 Ever praying, never ceasing, 
 
 To be true to thee. 
 
 I wonder what is coming in the morning? 
 In the morning when the golden dawn 
 Is breaking in the eastern sky. 
 When the air is fresh and clear, and I 
 Can soar on high, to get the thoughts 
 
 From Heaven, as they fly. 
 
 Chains of Love are more binding 
 
 Than the strongest fetters. 
 
 284 
 
I am so grieved that thou shouldst suffer so, 
 
 My own! 
 I would that I could carry all thy sorrows 
 
 Far away, 
 So that they could ne'er return, but alas, 
 
 My Own ! 
 We all have our pages, so to turn. 
 
 Man is a melody divine, or a very inharmoni- 
 ous creation. 
 
 I am coming to the turning of the ways 
 When my soul shall either mount on high 
 
 Or be debased. 
 
 I shall always live so close to light and truth, 
 that it will be impossible for anything to obscure 
 my view. 
 
 There is only one way of gaining Heaven, and 
 that is a very simple one — so simple, that many 
 would not pause to listen or take heed. 
 
 Loving all our fellow men covers everything, 
 for where true love, for love's sake is, all else 
 follows. 
 
 There are shores and shores of joy, that the 
 soul, weary of its present strife, may gain in per- 
 fect ease, if he but keep his eyes on God. 
 
 28s 
 
I feel so broken, and so bowed, 
 My head can scarce hold high. 
 O why was this sent to me now? 
 Now, when all things are coming nigh ! 
 
 But I must hold my faith in God, 
 His wisdom, and His love. 
 It cannot fail me now: so I must stand, 
 Erect and firm, and not be bowed. 
 
 The clouds are rolling swiftly by, 
 The sun is breaking through, 
 O such a glorious sun, 
 Of light and truth! 
 
 The grand, majestic trees, in the Forest of the 
 Lord, are coming now to all their beauteous ver- 
 dure, brightest green, and deepest shade. 
 
 We shall all be bathed in 
 Qlorious Sunshine 
 
 in 
 
 The Coming Day, 
 
 And the birds will sing their blessing 
 
 in 
 
 A Bright and Happy Lay. 
 
 Joy go with thee evermore! 
 Blessed be thy name. 
 Thou hast rendered such a service 
 286 
 
As will make thy name 
 One of love and honor, 
 Evermore ! 
 
 Love is a most exasperating thing, 
 One never knows next what it will bring, 
 Sorrow, or joy. 
 
 Thou hast caught the thoughts so well, 
 Sent to thee from God, 
 That the world will love thee, 
 For thy love of them. 
 
 My soul is struggling 
 With the problem of truth 
 And right. 
 
 But I have no fears 
 As to the ultimate outcome 
 Of the fight. 
 
 O give thanks to God for His gifts to men. 
 They are fine, and wide, and without end, 
 Amen. 
 
 O give thanks and praise the Lord 
 By doing deeds of kindness in His word. 
 Praise, praise the Lord, 
 Amen. 
 
 287 
 
Give thanks O my soul, for thy gifts 
 Of love and cheer. 
 They have brought thee to this 
 Another Thanksgiving year. 
 O my soul, send out a prayer 
 For the thousands who dwell 
 Not so much in the light and cheer 
 Of this coming Thanksgiving year. 
 And when thou hast finished thy prayer 
 Sing forth a song of praise to thy God 
 For his care. 
 
 Rise my soul and sing of all the wonders of thy 
 
 God, 
 He who in his mercy watches both the great 
 
 and small. 
 He whose glory fills the earth and sky, 
 Sing, I pray thee, to Him, on high. Forget not 
 One Moment that thy God is nigh. 
 Bend thy knee to him, in humble attitude of 
 
 prayer 
 And there thou shalt find thy greatest glory, 
 Oh my soul, of thy God on high. 
 
 There will come a stranger to dwell within thy 
 
 midst, 
 A soul of wondrous beauty, and O so fair. 
 He will impart to thee of his finest gifts. 
 His love will gently lift thee to thy proper 
 
 sphere, 
 
 288 
 
And in harmony of thought, and crowned, thou 
 
 shalt dwell 
 In a land far from this present rush and strife; 
 And in thy hand thou shalt wield a sceptre of 
 
 might, 
 
 To bring forth truth, and light! 
 
 Vague, wide fears run through my mind, 
 
 O charm them away I pray thee. 
 
 With a note so fine, that they ne'er shall return 
 
 For fears are deathly messengers, 
 
 Sent out to blight our hopes, by those 
 
 Who see not God's love in a rose. 
 
 I have learned since my higher life 
 That simplicity and purity of thought 
 Take one to the entire height, depth 
 And infinity of space, encompassing 
 The whole. There is no need 
 Of long learned treatises of subjects, 
 The highest, holiest and most sublime 
 And the mysteries of all climes 
 Are reached by absolute simplicity. 
 
 There is a star so bright and clear, 
 It sheds its light on a lonely sphere, 
 Waiting for people to inhabit its parts ; 
 And some day thou shalt see it filled 
 With the most glorious arts. 
 That star is guiding some souls to it now 
 But they are slow to explore. The spirit 
 289 
 
Of rest and ease holds sway, with those 
 
 Who had better by far, 
 
 Be up and pushing their way to the star. 
 
 The numbers of purity are three and five, 
 Seven carries a charm for all who prescribe 
 And inscribe. One, two and four, six, eight 
 And ten, are all in the everyday trend. 
 
 O my giddy thing! All on pleasure bent. 
 Stop thee for one moment, and think 
 Is life to be spent only on pleasure bent? 
 
 Sing little bird, thy sweet, sweet song. 
 Thy notes are clear, and thou dost trill 
 Them forth from early dawn. 
 Let not the slightest shadow quell thy song. 
 Sing, little bird, thy sweet, sweet song. 
 
 Weary, weary art thou love? 
 Come to me and I will rest thee in my arms. 
 My home shall be always a shield 
 From the world's hard light. Always a place 
 To nestle to my heart's delight. 
 So when thou art weary, my love, 
 Come to me. 
 
 Rest thy heart, my weary one, 
 Peace, peace, is now to come. 
 Thou shalt be all enthroned 
 290 
 
In a bower of love, such as thy soul 
 Has always desired from above. 
 So peace, peace, my soul. 
 Rest, thou weary one! 
 
 I know a little boy 
 
 Who dreams half his life away. 
 
 Every hour he dreams, 
 
 He has so much less to play. 
 
 But that does not hinder him 
 
 From dreaming all the day. 
 
 I have dwelt to-day in a heavenly sphere 
 
 Full of harmony and love divine. 
 
 Where the birds all sing, and none are dumb 
 
 But all to their Maker wing. 
 
 There the flowers never cease to bloom, 
 
 For the waters of God's eternal fountains 
 
 Spray upon them all the time. 
 
 The fruits are luscious, and grow 
 
 So wildly riotous, in their glorious masses 
 
 Of tone, that one would not hesitate to offer 
 
 them 
 Before God's very Throne. 
 These flowers and fruits that grow 
 In a sphere of harmony and love; 
 In which I have dwelt this day, 
 It is a taste of the Life above. 
 
 Thou art gazing on a world so full of light, 
 That thou scarce can command thy forces aright. 
 291 
 
Peace, my soul, thou hast conquered much. 
 Cease thy fluttering and cast thy net 
 Just where thou knowest it is best. 
 
 Sweetheart, what of the way? 
 
 Are you travelling on our path so gay? 
 
 Or are you on a silent path wending your way, 
 
 With never a look to the right or left, 
 
 Just on your way ! 
 
 Come, darling, are you thinking of me? 
 Are you dreaming of the days that should be? 
 O that our lives were mingled in one grand song. 
 O my darling, are you thinking and dreaming 
 of me? 
 
 Love me, darling, will you dear? 
 
 So said a lover in this worldly sphere. 
 
 He wooed by every token and song so dear. 
 
 She? Why, she yielded, and now her heart is 
 
 broken, 
 A thing, O so drear. 
 
 Thou must now break from all these hanging 
 
 reeds. 
 Drift them all on a sea apart from thee. 
 Let them sail their bark quite independent of 
 
 thee 
 And thou must give thy time henceforth to me. 
 
 292 
 
Methinks I see a calm appearing 
 On the waves of the troubled sea. 
 The waters will gradually subside 
 Their fierce loud roll, and sink back 
 Into a calm even tide. And then 
 On its waves we can drift, 
 Till we meet our staunch, good ship 
 That will carry us home, I mean 
 To our new home, o'er the waters wide. 
 
 noble Roman, where is thy crown? 
 
 At thy feet, my lady, I have laid it down. 
 Thou shalt tread the path to victory, 
 My lady, with my crown. And when 
 Thou hast reached the dizzy heights 
 
 1 will again resume my crown. 
 
 And we shall dwell together, thou my Queen, 
 With thine own crown. 
 
 Sadness brings forth many virtues 
 That otherwise would be crushed by the very 
 joy of gladness. 
 
 The skies have cleared, the earth will move 
 In more her accustomed way. All things 
 Will again resume their steady gait of cheer 
 And occasionally a little gloom. Big schemes 
 Will round out into certain lines 
 Much desired by many minds. All things will 
 take 
 
 293 
 
A flying leap, and hearts will reap a measure of 
 
 joy 
 From the sorrows that have been so deep. 
 The world will sing, and bells ring out with joy, 
 For the air will be ladened with the glory 
 Of God on High, bringing a message that His 
 
 love 
 
 Shall never die. 
 
 There comes a note from o'er the hills 
 
 With a message hidden deep. 
 
 Only those who have lived with God 
 
 Can carry it quite complete. 
 
 To them it brings a promise rare and bright 
 
 That their souls henceforth may sing 
 
 The beauties and glories of God, their King. 
 
 It promises a life of rapture and joy, 
 
 A never-ending supply of God's love 
 
 And that their souls at last may drift 
 
 Out into His arms above. 
 
 Dear, dear, dear! If thou wouldst only be 
 
 guided 
 By God, not man. Thy paths would lead thee 
 To where thou hast always wished them to end. 
 Take thy guidance from God, and from him 
 
 alone, 
 And then thou wilt stand, where thou 
 Canst pierce to the very Throne. But thou 
 Dost heed the voice of man, with its soft 
 Beguiling tone, and then thou hast only sorrow 
 294 
 
For thine own : all because thou wilt not be 
 
 guided 
 By God alone. Dear, dear, dear! 
 
 Pythagoras rode his steed, 
 
 And a mighty steed had he. 
 
 It has come through the ages 
 
 Down, down to thee! 
 
 His mantle has descended upon thy head, 
 
 And thrice blessed thou shalt be 
 
 If thou put forth the songs 
 
 That he will give to thee. 
 
 Not half so sweet as thine own soul, 
 Which would embrace the world 
 In its loving grasp. 
 
 The wind and waves do call 
 With a fierce wild sob of grief 
 For the souls of those who lie beneath 
 In their winding sheets. 
 The wind and the waves do roar and roll 
 Till they reach the shore, where they break 
 To rush out once more, 
 
 These winds that roar and these waves that roll. 
 The wind and the waves they call once more 
 So I must away to the shore 
 And be clasped in their arms, to return no more. 
 Then the wind and the waves will cease to call 
 And will rest their roar and roll, when I 
 Have taken my journey, their depths to explore ; 
 295 
 
And from there my soul shall arise to greet its 
 
 God, 
 In its future home in the skies. 
 Above these winds that roar and these waves 
 
 that roll. 
 
 What a striking thing is life. 
 
 It seems all strife and struggle 
 
 Even to gain our first breath; 
 
 And so on, continues the strife. 
 
 Some gain the better part, 
 
 And a few, apparently all the art; 
 
 But most of us have a bitter part 
 
 In which to display our art. 
 
 A poet pours forth all his heart, 
 
 Be it sublime, or of lowly part; 
 
 But to have lived in this world 
 
 Is a privilege we all shall recall. 
 
 Would that I had lived my best! 
 
 Would that I had stood on the topmost step, 
 
 And only looked upon the squalid wanderings 
 
 Of the horde! O that I had lived more with 
 
 my God! 
 Then I would have caught from Angels 
 All the higher chords. 
 
 My life would have spun out into sunshine, 
 Instead of deep dark ways of filth, and mire. 
 O that I had talked with God! 
 
 There has been but one reincarnated soul, 
 That of Christ, and he, only for our sakes 
 296 
 
Came He; so that we might have an example 
 
 Of holy sacrifice, to set before our lives so free. 
 
 To both great and small, black and white 
 
 Came He. He lifted not his head in scorn, 
 
 Nor drew his garments far from sin. 
 
 Nay rather always mingled there within, 
 
 To bring his holy light to shine, 
 
 So that the sinners he could win. 
 
 The lowly and the meek, they appealed to him; 
 
 And think you his crucifixion was the only suf- 
 fering 
 
 He endured? His life on earth was one long 
 torture. 
 
 To have come from the highest space above, 
 
 Where all is harmony, peace and love. 
 
 Think you the finest soul that has ever existed 
 
 On earth, was not in torture from his birth? 
 
 I pray you pause in your greed for gain of gold. 
 
 Was that sacrifice not sufficient 
 
 To bring your hearts to his fold ? 
 
 And remember that later, only the heart is told. 
 
 A star was speeding on its way, 
 
 When alas it met a comet, and the devil was to 
 
 pay. 
 But there emerged from the ruins, a world 
 That is yet to be inhabited by men of clay. 
 The air is rare, pure and clear, 
 (Oh pshaw, but the devil is still to pay.) 
 The devil is loose my dear, 
 So beware of him, I pray, or he may gather thee 
 
 in, 
 
 297 
 
To dwell with him for a day. 
 
 He is fair and fine to see, but I had rather 
 
 He walked not with thee. He will approach 
 
 thee 
 With a snare and a smile, but beware, 
 O I pray thee, beware of his artful smile 
 And his snare. He will show thee a dish of 
 
 most tempting fruit 
 Of which, when thou hast eaten, will make thee 
 The devil's own fruit, to be plucked and thrown 
 
 away 
 At will, or to be used as a decoy for other souls 
 
 still. 
 O my dear beware of the devil who roams at his 
 
 will. 
 He may promise thee fame, and a life with a 
 
 name, 
 Or wealth, health, but remember, 
 Nothing but bitterness will be gained. 
 There are men whom he plots for now. 
 He has deluded them long, and they have made 
 Wealth, name and fame; but in the end it will 
 
 turn 
 To bitterness and shame; so be thou not de- 
 luded, 
 But always remember that what thou hast 
 
 earned, 
 
 Thou hast gained! 
 
 On the shore of time there is written a command 
 That thou must always obey, be it night or day, 
 
 298 
 
To carry out God's love in his own right way. 
 If he comes in a still, small voice, 
 In a song or a flower, in a wind or a storm, 
 It is God, and Him thou must obey. 
 
 From the wreck of thy ship 
 
 That has sailed so free, 
 
 Thou wilt see emerging the Holy Three. 
 
 O my darling, let me take thee in mine arms 
 And soothe thee off to rest, 
 To dream of beauty, flowers and song, 
 That will rest thee all the night long, 
 O my darling let me soothe thee with my song. 
 Soothe thy troubled heart and head 
 With the thought that I will guard thee 
 And that e'er another night shall claim thee 
 For thy rest, thou wilt know 
 That thy plans have worked out for thine own 
 best. 
 
 Rocking, gently rocking, 
 
 As I sit beside the blazing lire. 
 
 Thinking, O so deeply thinking 
 
 Of the worlds I build in air. 
 
 O the mighty deeds I do in fancy, 
 
 All are written in the blazing logs. 
 
 Dream, and dream and dream, 
 
 Of my sorrows, and my joys, 
 
 They alike are pictured in the blaze. 
 
 . 299 
 
Wave a flag of victory, for thy fight is won. 
 And on the morrow thou wilt hear such news 
 
 of joy 
 As will make thee feel a mighty one. 
 So wave, wave the flag, thou victorious one. 
 Thou hast made a gallant stand, 
 And have scored thy points one by one, 
 And now, for thee, the battle is won. 
 O my brave, victorious son. 
 Wave, wave thy flag, and raise it high, 
 So that all may grasp its meaning, 
 Thou bold, victorious one! 
 
 May God's blessing always rest upon the tiny 
 soul 
 
 That soon will come to cradle within thine arms. 
 
 May he ever be a source of comfort and joy, 
 so free 
 
 That thy soul shall expand till it only stand be- 
 tween God and he. 
 
 Old Man Dobson started for the town, 
 
 A mile and a half from his farrm 
 
 With his old horse Jane 
 
 And his cart full of grain, 
 
 To be exchanged for the wonderful things 
 
 Of the town. It was nearing the Christmas 
 
 time, 
 And Old Man Dobson had a lot of things in 
 
 mind. 
 
 300 
 
To buy for his wife and his children; 
 For his family was of old fashioned kind, 
 And could be counted to nine. 
 
 The day is long, the way is wide, 
 
 I wish I might with thee abide, 
 
 We could talk of the highest sight 
 
 And of things that would be to us a delight. 
 
 But each must work out their way, 
 
 Alone, unaided, except by their sight. 
 
 In the depths of the forest thy home should be, 
 Where the summer winds blow from off the 
 
 sea. 
 There thy soul would find rest, and come forth 
 To commune with thee. 
 
 O that I had the power to paint thy life, 
 It would glow with all the tones that are not 
 of strife. 
 
 I wish to thee a blessing on this Christmas time, 
 One that will bring thee into God's most perfect 
 
 clime. 
 What more can I say or wish, for thee or thine. 
 
 May God lead thee in His holy light, 
 So that thou shalt see all things aright. 
 301 
 
With a pure and perfect sight, 
 So that thy days may all be bright. 
 
 Thou hast many discouragements all along thy 
 
 way, 
 But a brave heart, and the doing of thy part, 
 Will bring thee finally to the highest of thine 
 
 art. 
 
 Thou hast answered to the vibrations of the 
 highest 
 
 Of all. Thou wilt henceforth lead a life de- 
 voted 
 
 To the works of thy God; that is, the best in 
 thyself 
 
 Wilt come to the fore, and thou shalt stand 
 
 As firm as a rock, with thine own forces 
 
 To work for thee, in every part; and this has 
 come to thee, 
 
 As a gift from God's Christmas Tree. 
 
 How beautiful. are Thy ways, O Lord! 
 Thy paths of peace, they offer me, 
 Such sweet release from the grind 
 Of the day's hard toil ; but to come to Thee 
 At eventide, and let my soul abide, 
 Brings rest and content, that, in no other place 
 Can I find. O my Lord I shall always 
 With Thee abide. 
 
 302 
 
Many troubles thou hast had, but soon 
 
 Thy feet will tread, where only those of Fame 
 
 Have found the path that led to the dizzy 
 
 heights, 
 Where O my soul, thou soon shalt tread. 
 And then thou canst in peace work out thy life, 
 So that when thy soul shall mount on high, 
 Thou shalt say, " I am satisfied." 
 
 Dream not, my soul, thou shalt soon have much 
 
 to do. 
 Thy home will blossom out into a joyous spot. 
 For kindred souls now far apart, will gather in 
 And to thee will come with all their joys and 
 
 arts. 
 
 I pray for thee the blessing 
 Thou in thy heart most desired of God. 
 May it come to thee for this, 
 Thy Christmas joy, and live ever 
 In thy life, until thou shalt walk with God, 
 Where there is no night ! 
 
 Darts are flying here and there, 
 
 O what wonders are flying through the air. 
 
 No need to dig below the ground, 
 
 When thou canst sail above in God's free air. 
 
 303 
 
Gloom and silence reign. The noise is hushed 
 Within, without — for our country is in mourn- 
 ing 
 For a soul that has gone out. 
 
 Many Christmas joys be thine 
 
 In the knowledge that thou hast given 
 
 To the world of thy best. 
 
 What more can be said, what greater test, 
 
 Than to have given of thy best. 
 
 May God's blessing rest upon thy head, 
 To give thee strength and life 
 Far, far ahead, so that many Christmas days 
 Thou wilt see, until thy soul shall dwell 
 With God, where all is peace, and love and har- 
 mony. 
 
 I pray that thine eyes may be opened 
 To see the light of day. 
 Not the shadowy haze that at present 
 Obscures thy way; but God's light, 
 That will lead thee to a most perfect way ; 
 And this I pray will come to thee, 
 On Christmas Day! 
 
 304 
 
Thou hast thy Christmas joy right in thine arms 
 With all his wealth of love untold. 
 But the darling bud will unfold 
 With the beauty and sweetness he has acquired 
 From thine own soul. 
 
 This night a soul whom thou knowest well 
 Will pass from his earthly shell. 
 When the clock strikes one, two, three, 
 His breath will begin to diminish 
 And then the end will be ! 
 
 Upon a mountain top, high above the sea, 
 
 There stands the figure of a man. 
 
 His head is bowed upon his breast, 
 
 And his thoughts are dwelling on thy plans, 
 
 That thou hast made for thine, and thee. 
 
 Troubled and sore he seems to be, 
 
 For he sees some rocks ahead. 
 
 If thou, with the utmost care, 
 
 Doth not steer thy ship to sea. 
 
 He cannot send thee a message, 
 
 For thou wouldst not hear; but he stands 
 
 And prays that God will direct thee, 
 
 So that thou may steer thy ship safe to land. 
 
 I am dumb and hushed to-night, 
 
 For my heart is aching for my home across the 
 
 sea. 
 Where I know that for this Christmas time 
 I cannot be. I will have to stay and wander 
 305 
 
In this strange new land, with strangers 
 All around on every hand. 
 O what a lonesome time is this Christmas time 
 For me; a stranger in a land 
 
 Where there is no home for me. 
 
 O my dear soul, I am sorry for thee. 
 
 Thou hast a hard road to travel. 
 
 But remember many Sisters have gone o'er it 
 
 Before thee. I will give thee a rhyme 
 
 That will fill thy soul with sunshine 
 
 The very next time I go o'er the hills 
 
 To the castle of rhymes and rills. 
 
 So watch for my sign, when I again pass by, 
 
 For I surely will have a rhyme 
 
 That will make thee laugh all the time. 
 
 Thou hast a path to tread, that at present 
 
 Is hidden from thy sight; but I pray 
 
 Ere another Christmas tide, thou wilt have 
 
 found 
 Thy path, that now to my eyes is very bright. 
 
 Cheer, my friend, cheer, 
 For the Christmas time is here, 
 And thou must away with the bells so gay, 
 To help Santa Claus on his rounds, 
 To fill the children's hearts 
 With lays and songs of praise. 
 For Old Kris Kringle is growing old 
 These days — and needs a bright, new hand 
 To help him on his ways. 
 306 
 
Cheer, my friend, be of cheer, 
 And away with thy thoughts so drear, 
 For this, the Christmas time, 
 Is only for cheer ! 
 
 I see a body enthroned in state. 
 It is a king and a high prelate ; 
 And around are gathered the mourners of fate. 
 The calm stately magnificence of his surround- 
 ings 
 Do not permit of much display of love or hate 
 But it is equally divided for the king 
 
 Who lies in state. 
 A woman walks with bowed head, 
 Her heart is broken, her life is dead. 
 She heeds not any of the passing time, 
 Her thoughts are upon the man of state, 
 Upon whom she can bring no claim that will 
 have weight. 
 
 But just the same she was his fate, 
 
 And now she realizes when it is too late, 
 
 The folly she has lived with ; 
 
 And ere long her love will turn to hate. 
 
 Then the serpent will be aroused, 
 
 And she will sting with bitter fury, 
 
 And then remorse will claim her 
 
 For its own, and thus will end a chapter 
 
 In the book of the throne, 
 
 A chapter the book would rather not own. 
 
 307 
 
Buried deep in the heart of a rose, 
 
 Is the story I shall tell ; 
 
 But not to-night, my friend, 
 
 I love you far too well. 
 
 For you might be torn by a thorn of the rose, 
 
 In the heart of which my story grows. 
 
 An Arab poet once predicted finest things of 
 
 thee. 
 So be true, and always aim thy highest work 
 
 to do. 
 
 There will be a band of mourners, 
 Weeping o'er some clay; but the soul 
 Is far, far away. If the eyes of the men 
 Could but recognize the right of way, 
 They would see their friend, and realize 
 That he is not of clay. 
 
 O that I had lived to my highest ideal. 
 
 that I had drawn from the fount. 
 
 1 could have left a name, a fame, 
 
 And now all I have is my sorrow and shame. 
 
 And yet I was not altogether to blame. 
 
 But O my brother, make the most of thy time, 
 
 308 
 
So that when thou hast finished thy task, 
 Thou shalt be able to inscribe thy name, 
 In the Great Book of Fame. 
 
 T. G. B. 
 
 A high pushing soul, yet very yielding, 
 
 Very intent, and will learn the lesson slowly 
 
 That he has not yet reached the fullest extent 
 
 Of knowledge. Of his life he will make the 
 
 highest, 
 And be numbered among, the world's bright 
 
 men; 
 But in his love he is not destined 
 To reap a bright harvest. His soul is true, 
 Pine, and most loving : and will be hurt much, 
 But he will rebound and make the most of things 
 
 generally. 
 
 J. N. B. 
 
 A sensitive, loving little soul, 
 
 Who is destined to much sorrow of heart, 
 
 But withal, happy. His life will merge out 
 
 Into wide fields of work, and he at all times 
 
 Will bring many people to him, but fleeting, 
 
 As he soon sees the real motives of most people 
 
 That are connected with him. 
 
 309 
 
My soul will soon take its way 
 
 Across the narrow line 
 
 That divides this world from thine. 
 
 I shall meet thee in thy palace above, 
 
 And thou shalt guide me 
 
 To where there is naught but harmony and 
 
 love. 
 Dost thou hear me, O my Love? 
 I am calling thee for aid 
 To help me bear my lot. O my King ! 
 What shall I do, now that you and I are apart. 
 O dost thou hear me calling from my heart? 
 
 I wonder what a little boy I know will do 
 
 When he finds that Santa Claus 
 
 Has gone astray, and has not sent him 
 
 A single toy with which to play, 
 
 On this coming Christmas Day. 
 
 I fancy his eyes will widen, and then 
 
 Grow bright with tears, that will well up 
 
 In spite of his ten of years. 
 
 For 'tis a sad, sad thing to be forgotten 
 
 Among all this rush of life; 
 
 But to have been missed by Santa Claus 
 
 On his Christmas flight, with his toys 
 
 310 
 
And things of delight, would be almost more 
 
 Than a boy could bear; so I pray 
 
 That I have not penned aright : and the little 
 
 boy 
 I know, will surely have one toy from Santa 
 
 Claus 
 
 In his Christmas flight. 
 
 A spider's web is weaving, 
 
 And soon he will invite the fly, 
 
 To enter into his parlor, 
 
 Do you know why? 
 
 Dost thou remember the fate of the fly? 
 
 Well, if I were that fly, 
 
 I would collect a host and crush that web, 
 
 But first I would be sure that the spider 
 
 Was not nigh. He his fate will meet 
 
 When things begin to fly. 
 
 I would build a lattice if I were thee, 
 
 And cover it with vines so that no one could 
 
 see 
 What I was doing with my fingers three. 
 Td arrange a spot where I could form my plans 
 For a campaign band of three. 
 Not more, not less — but three. 
 Myself and two I could trust so free. 
 I would lay a snare with skill and care 
 To bag a game that is not quite fair, 
 But I would call it a hare. 
 
 3ii 
 
Step by step, inch by inch, 
 Thou hast gained thy ground, 
 Until now thou stand upon a firm wide footing, 
 With the heads that wear the crowns. 
 Thou hast made thy life a success 
 After years of toil and struggle, 
 And now thou shalt wear thy crown 
 And in thy first flush of exultant pride, 
 Watch carefully the poor souls 
 Who go down with the tide. 
 Be ever ready to give them a hand, and per- 
 chance 
 They may regain their pride 
 And still continue to strive 
 
 For their higher stand ; and always remind them 
 That step by step, and inch by inch, 
 Thou didst gain thy stand ! 
 
 Sing, sing, with joyous song, 
 
 Gathered from the early morn, 
 
 With all the freshness of the day's bright dawn. 
 
 Sing, sing, a wild victorious song. 
 
 For victory shall be thine 
 
 In the morning's light divine. 
 
 Thy voice will ring out with gladness, 
 
 Thy head shall whirl with joy, 
 
 For on the morrow thou shalt gain 
 
 A million points of joy. 
 
 But wait not until the morrow, 
 
 Sing now thou thy songs of joy. 
 
 312 
 
To-day has been a turning point with thee, 
 
 But thou didst not know it 
 
 And 'twas well for thee, for now 
 
 Thy plans have carried, O so free. 
 
 The paths henceforth shall take thee 
 
 Far above the sea of troubled waters 
 
 Upon which thy bark so long has travelled 
 
 And of all thy cares thou shalt now be free, 
 
 For on this day's turning 
 
 Thy desires have been granted thee. 
 
 Thou shalt soon be cast upon a wild sea of 
 
 trouble 
 And thy friends will desert of thee ; and thou 
 Shalt be left alone to struggle with the wild, 
 
 wild sea. 
 But never despair, for in the calm that follows 
 There will come a million of crowns for thee, 
 So hold up thy head, and march straight ahead, 
 For I will never desert of thee ! 
 
 My tongue is silent and my head bowed low, 
 
 Whence did come this blow? 
 
 It has put me in a terror of fear, 
 
 And I know not what next I shall hear. 
 
 God, grant me peace and love divine, 
 
 So that they shall not break this heart of mine. 
 
 1 thought I had gone the rounds of weal and 
 
 woe, 
 But it seems I had another journey to go. 
 
 313 
 
Me thinks I see a jewelled crown awaiting thee 
 And I with mine own hands will work to place 
 
 thee 
 Where thou shouldst be. I will drive away all 
 
 doubts 
 And fears. Thou shalt reflect no more, 
 The conditions of those surrounding thee, 
 But stand forth stout of heart, and body free. 
 
 A soul is hovering, with a fear to fly 
 For the storm is wild and the tempest is high, 
 But the soul need not fear, for it will fly 
 Straight to God's loving cheer! 
 
 There dwelt a maiden, all in a dream 
 
 And O what a rude awakening I fear it will 
 
 seem, 
 When her castles which she has builded in 
 
 dreams, 
 All fall to pieces; and she has nothing 
 But a bare bit of ground, not fit for a castle, 
 No, not even a mound. 
 She will start and eagerly look around 
 But no sight half so pleasing 
 As her castles of dreams, does she see, 
 Her castles she had builded in air, 
 But she thought them firm on a rock; 
 And later will she realize 
 That only her home was firm on a rock, 
 And there dwelt within, a brave true heart. 
 
 314 
 
Fate is rushing like a river, 
 Cast thy bark upon the waters, 
 And hesitate not to take to the stream. 
 It will carry straight as a dart 
 To the very heart of things. 
 
 What an odd thing is life! Who can grasp it? 
 One sigh and it is over; one heartache and it is 
 gone. 
 
 dearest soul, trouble not thy heart 
 
 With all these vagaries, they are not of thy part. 
 
 And not at all in thy art, 
 
 So dearest, trouble not thy heart. 
 
 All things will come to light, Thou canst not 
 
 Change their course, not in the least little mite. 
 
 So why trouble thy soul, when there is so much 
 
 of love 
 For thee, yet to be told. 
 
 1 will watch over all thy cares 
 And thy burdens I will bear, 
 
 If thou wilt but put thy trust in me, 
 
 So take only of the better part. 
 
 Clear thy thoughts from all of such as these 
 
 For thou hast higher work to do, 
 
 And must not trouble thy soul, dear heart 
 
 With messages about the untrue. 
 
 A king once said to his son, if thou canst guess 
 Three riddles 
 
 I will make thee a ruler of kingdoms three. 
 315 
 
And the son being wise, said never a word, 
 No not he. Now what do you think were these 
 
 riddles three? 
 The first unlocks the gate, the second, the door 
 And the third, thy fate. I shall leave thee to 
 
 guess 
 
 These riddles three. 
 
 I have a rhyme for thee, sweetheart, 
 
 A dear little rhyme which thou must write 
 
 In thy heart, and sing it all the time. 
 
 I wonder if I shall tell it to thee now, 
 
 Or wait until some time when thou art alone, 
 
 Which dost thou prefer, sweetheart? 
 
 'Tis a riddle as well as a rhyme, 
 
 That thou shouldst write in this heart of thine. 
 
 Thou hast no need to fear, thou hast been 
 
 tempted 
 And shown thyself clear. Thou wilt only get 
 
 what is true 
 And nothing that will make thee rue; for thou 
 
 art beloved 
 By all fine souls, and only those of the highest 
 
 planes 
 Come to you. 
 
 Poised, just ready to fly, 
 Is the soul of one that fears to die. 
 But once it has left this earthly shell, 
 It will soar and soar, 
 
 316 
 
And the best in that soul will come to the fore. 
 
 It may be a day, it may be a week, 
 
 It might be a month, before that soul 
 
 Will have started on its way. 
 
 The call will come in the day 
 
 When the sun is high and fine, 
 
 And the clock will have just struck nine. 
 
 That is all that I now shall say. 
 
 Life has many a heartache, many a bruised foot 
 And many a troubled head; but the broad high- 
 way 
 Is fine and grand, for those who march in the 
 
 light of day. 
 There are so many eager faces to see, 
 So many little children happy in the glory of 
 
 their regime 
 That one's heart responds with a song, 
 And the glory is reflected in one's face, as he 
 
 marches along, 
 So after all, life is one great grand song. 
 
 I wish I might feel so gay 
 That the world would all sway 
 With my strength of thought, 
 And that it would carry us away, away, 
 To the hills that are always gay. 
 
 Thy heart hast ever dwelt in realms divine 
 And now, my soul, thy life will reflect 
 
 317 
 
In tones most sublime, all the beauties 
 Thou hast gained in the darkest times. 
 
 Watch thee well, I say, and never trust to 
 
 others 
 But thou thyself must sway, and by so doing, 
 Thy soul with God shall stay. 
 
 This is not a time for pruning, 
 Rather nourish with tender care 
 All the shoots, and later they will bear thee 
 Some fine, fine fruits. 
 
 Transfixion thou must bear. 
 
 Thy courage, never fear! 
 
 Thou wilt have enough, and to spare. 
 
 Temples of love thou hast raised 
 And soon thou shalt share, also praise. 
 
 Gird on thy armour, stand out bold and free, 
 Never caring for the world, 
 
 Or what it thinks of thee ! 
 
 I, with a wealth of love untold, 
 
 Bend at thy knee, and beg of thee 
 
 To unfold to me, thy soul so free, 
 
 So that I may pour forth all my love, to thee. 
 
 318 
 
Love plays many pranks, darting here and 
 
 there, 
 But you and I will hold him fast 
 And compel him to go a long way back, to the 
 
 past ; 
 So that our hearts may be young and full of 
 
 song 
 
 As we travel this road along. 
 
 Old Man Time has such a short space 
 
 In which to gather his harvest 
 
 That he is wielding his scythe with undue haste 
 
 And making a lot of waste. 
 
 Cease to trouble thy soul, for thou canst not 
 
 make light 
 Where the soul will not see it aright. 
 Weary not thyself, but take the flowers of 
 
 thought 
 That are wafted to thee, leaf by leaf, 
 Inscribe them with thy love from thy heart so 
 
 deep. 
 They will be sweet and fragrant and glisten with 
 
 the morning dew, 
 These rose leaves of purity that are blown to 
 
 you. 
 
 Three men of holy orders will visit this country 
 
 once more 
 And thou shalt see them right soon before thy 
 
 door. 
 
 319 
 
They bear a message for thee, that thou must 
 
 join with them 
 Some time later on their desert shore. They 
 
 also bear 
 A crown of jewels, from a soul who has gone 
 
 before 
 And will wish you to wear it, for their sakes 
 
 once more, 
 These three holy men from India's shore. 
 They are before thy sight even now. So arise 
 
 my soul, 
 Thou wilt have a night of struggle 
 And strife. The huge billow will roll, 
 And almost engulf thy soul; but thou shalt 
 
 emerge 
 In the morning's light, a soul at last freed from 
 
 its strife. 
 
 A beautiful dream in which thou shalt see 
 A garden of flowers all snowy and green, 
 The dazzling purity of which sends forth 
 A glorious sheen, to gladden the hearts 
 Of the travelling teen! 
 
 To thee be everlasting glory and freedom of 
 
 thought. 
 May thy soul continue to soar, 
 'Till it reach God's most perfect part! 
 Put forth all thy strength, to keep above the 
 
 horde 
 
 320 
 
Who would drag thee down to walk in their 
 broken roads, 
 As of yore! 
 
 O my soul of high degree! 
 
 Thou wilt catch the thoughts sent out to thee. 
 
 So trouble not thy soul, 
 
 By wondering if this or that were he ! 
 
 Thy path wilt be shown unto thee, 
 
 And it will lead straight to the Infinite Three. 
 
 Thou blessed soul of purity! 
 
 Thou hast grasped the simple truths 
 
 That have been sent to thee; 
 
 And all great things lie in absolute simplicity. 
 
 I know that in the future I shall live 
 So close to my highest ideal 
 That my range of vision will take me 
 Far beyond my now highest conception. 
 
 Never count thy dollars, until they are safe 
 In thy hand. In fact it is always a better policy 
 To never count on anything, even when it is 
 Right within thy hand! 
 
 Thou canst round out by thy will and way. 
 
 Thou canst bring all things to thy feet, 
 
 If thou but give thy highest forces full sway. 
 
 321 
 
Thou art very keen in thy sight 
 
 And sense of tone, harmony, shading and depth, 
 
 And of insight into the future life, 
 
 Thou couldst bring all things to light, 
 
 If thou cared to enter the strife. 
 
 AURAS 
 
 Each body is surrounded by an ether or aura, 
 and according to the qualities possessed by the 
 individual, so the color, shape and thickness of 
 the aura is discernible to those able to dis- 
 tinguish such fine substances. 
 
 It is a most interesting study from all points. 
 First, the color is sometimes a beautiful blend- 
 ing of many qualities, as each one creates a 
 separate color. Red is the anger sign, blue is 
 charity, pink, harmonious thought, yellow, the 
 intellectual color, green represents the jealousies 
 (so the saying "green-eyed monster" is true). 
 Brown is the even trait, levelling all things; 
 purple or violet is the moral sign, being either 
 bright or very delicate, the lighter shades rep- 
 resenting finer qualities than the deeper shad- 
 ings. Gray, cream or white, show how much 
 of the body is in a pure state, health giving these 
 colors their firmness and thickness. So you see, 
 my friends, what a wide study it is. 
 
 All the different shades of the colors men- 
 tioned, and their blendings, greed, selfishness, 
 lying, uncleanness of thought, all vary so, in the 
 shading of auras. 
 
 322 
 
There is an exquisite, soft green, that is sym- 
 bolic of the highest, and is often confounded 
 with the coarser green, the yellowish green, by 
 people who judge hastily, or who have not 
 delved deeply into the subject. If people could, 
 or would cultivate the keener sight, they would 
 soon be able to select their associates, with 
 much less heartbreakings. They could instantly 
 recognize qualities that would surely bring sor- 
 row or joy: for while some people have certain 
 qualities that are very attractive to us, they at 
 the same time possess others that mean death to 
 our peace of mind, and retard our soul's 
 progress. 
 
 And it would also enable healers and physi- 
 cians to locate any impure part of the body, as 
 each organ, in its normal state, gives a pure 
 white light, the different shadings denoting the 
 cause of inharmonious conditions. 
 
 The condition may, or may not be the result 
 of the patient's own thoughts, the cause going 
 back many years, in some cases, when the re- 
 sult of wrong thinking is handed down to an- 
 other generation. With one half the care given 
 to propagation, that is now expended on the 
 breeding of animals, we would be purified in 
 an amazingly short time. Think of the care 
 given to fruit, flowers and vegetables, and birds, 
 while God's highest thought breed in most 
 cases without the slightest thought of conse- 
 quences, or even a care of condition at the time 
 of conception : desire being the only guide. But 
 323 
 
I am digressing from my subject — it is such a 
 wide one, that later there will be light shown 
 to the world, and they must take it up. It will 
 come so finely and purely, that it will be ir- 
 resistible, the rush of pure thought flooding the 
 land, like a great white light, bringing every 
 dark corner into prominent view. 
 
 PSYCHIC FORCE 
 
 In the year 1909, there was a general stirring 
 up of the higher sense, the keener sight, the 
 force of light trying to spread itself over the 
 land, which was eagerly taken up by those al- 
 ready versed in the much-bedraggled arts of 
 clairvoyancy, palmistry, astrology, and the many 
 different branches of the science of divining the 
 future, all leading to the one point, Light; but 
 too often they are misleading, and carry one to 
 utter darkness. 
 
 If absolute honesty of purpose and purity of 
 thought were practiced, the results would be 
 astounding — gain, in most cases, being the only 
 incentive to work of that kind. There are 
 honest souls trying to give measure for measure, 
 who ultimately will accomplish much good, and 
 their reward will be great. 
 
 It is a vastly interesting subject, capable of 
 any depth to which we care to go. Full of 
 charm, the unknown is always holding forth very 
 enticing attractions. It is only when we be- 
 come thoroughly conversant with any subject, 
 324 
 
that it loses the stimulating incentive to further 
 investigation. 
 
 There has been a great deal written of the 
 force known as " psychic," not any two writers 
 agreeing on the subject. It is the most won- 
 derful of all the gifts God can bestow on his 
 people, and, rightly used, is productive of great 
 good, opening an endless vista to those culti- 
 vating it purely; but, misused, it is a force that 
 leads to everlasting destruction, and I should 
 like to put forth a plea to all not using it to its 
 higher development, to change their course, and 
 that right quickly. This is only put forth in a 
 spirit of love for all mankind, and an anxiety 
 to see all using to the highest degree the talents 
 they have been given. Where much is given, 
 much is expected. 
 
 Everyone is possessed of more or less psychic 
 force, and all have within them the power to 
 cultivate it to an astonishing degree ; and, if each 
 one developed, an amazing revelation would be 
 given to the world — in truth creating a new 
 heaven and a new earth. 
 
 It is a comparatively easy matter to cultivate 
 the psychic force within us. The first thing is 
 charity for all, a desire to help our fellow men, 
 instead of squeezing the last dollar out of every 
 proposition that comes before us. To be sure, 
 the one who pursues the course of crushing all 
 in his path, may for a long time have success 
 — but the end gained is not one to be desired; 
 and until you have laid a firm foundation, it is 
 325 
 
useless to build higher. After a firm foundation 
 of charity is laid (and the results will astound 
 you), the development moves on into endless 
 attainments. All the higher things of life 
 stand out so clearly, that it seems as if every- 
 one must attain them. The process is so simple 
 that people thrust it aside, looking for more 
 complicated problems, forgetting that simple 
 truths are great truths. 
 
 I would urge that everyone make just a little 
 effort for the higher development of the psychic 
 power, and thereby gain truth and love for all 
 mankind ; and, if we have a true love of human- 
 ity, the everlasting harmony is gained. 
 
 Very wonderful manifestations of power have 
 been put forth, and it is possible, when the 
 keener sight has been developed, to see and bring 
 forth all the apparently hidden mysteries — 
 but they count as nothing where the higher force 
 has not been developed. 
 
 SPIRITUAL LOVE 
 
 Love, pure, spiritual love, rekindles all the 
 fires of life, bringing new forces to work, in 
 order to send forth the truths — truths that must 
 be told. Most of the love given is selfish love, 
 because it pleases the giver, or brings a large re- 
 ward in a financial way. 
 
 It must be entirely unselfish, to do any amount 
 of good. One must cultivate the power of lov- 
 ing, where it does not please — and when that 
 326 
 
is accomplished, the world is before you, to con- 
 quer, if you wish. All things will be made 
 clear, and you will realize God is everything, 
 for God is Love, pure and simple. God is 
 Good, and in everything, and everywhere. 
 
 Pure love is like a clear running stream, re- 
 freshing everyone that comes within even seeing- 
 distance; and the drinking in of it is like unto a 
 taste of the everlasting heaven — for heaven is 
 only a grand harmonious whole of love and good. 
 You can have it in the smallest space, in the 
 meanest home, as well as in immeasurable space 
 and a palace. 
 
 The love that will bear all things, for love's 
 sake, persecution, reviling, ingratitude, nay, even 
 death, is the love that brings one to the higher 
 planes, at once; one grand step into the ever- 
 lasting harmony — and the highest to be ob- 
 tained is harmony. Nothing is above that; 
 where everything blends in one grand whole, 
 (and there are souls who will understand the 
 still small voice of God, and who are able to com- 
 prehend the bliss of harmony in their own 
 bodies) but my friends, can you, who do realize 
 it, can you for one moment, picture the bliss of 
 souls, where each one is in perfect harmony 
 with themselves and each other, making one 
 eternal song of rhythm so perfect and pure, that 
 to you on the earth plane, it would be too high, 
 and would take the soul at once out of your 
 bodies. 
 
 This my friends, is only a small part of love, 
 327 
 
and yet the whole may be contained in it. I 
 pray it may enter into your hearts, and that you 
 may all know your God, and listen to the " still, 
 small voice." 
 
 My best love and peace go with you all into 
 perfect harmony. 
 
 The light that enables us to see clearly the 
 truths that God puts forth, is only another form 
 of Love. All things radiate from love, it being 
 the centre of all good. 
 
 It enters into the heart of man like a rush of 
 pure air from the mountain top, making it as 
 sweet and pure as the heart of a babe. 
 
 I pray God that all make it possible for the 
 light to enter their hearts. 
 
 CHILDREN 
 
 Children, to my mind, represent all the charm- 
 ing things of life, their childhood is so often 
 tinged with the pathos of life to come. Un- 
 consciously they live their future. 
 
 I have watched so many little feet, some so 
 steady, others very wavering, some stumbling, 
 and still others making a very zigzag path. It 
 is prophetic of their future lives. 
 
 We change not so much as it would seem — 
 simply traits strengthened or weakened, just as 
 we think in our hearts; thoughts shaping them- 
 selves into strong characteristics. 
 
 They are so joyous over small things, or else 
 328 
 
demanding many and varied amusements — an- 
 other trait we do not lose. 
 
 Honesty and truthfulness, when not shown in 
 a child, rarely can be cultivated. They may be 
 polished and hidden, all these traits, but you 
 will always find them there, if you look deeply. 
 
 Kindness and thoughtfulness are always 
 shown strongly in the child, or an absolute in- 
 difference to others' comfort or care. I find no 
 half-way measures. 
 
 Deception or frankness is one very strong 
 quality that. is carried on usually very much in- 
 creased by years. 
 
 The sweet loving traits that appeal so strongly 
 to us, always adding new strength with every 
 year. 
 
 They are buds of great promise, or else very 
 unworthy weeds in this garden of God's making. 
 
 I am searching for a jewel 
 
 To place in thy crown, 
 
 And I shall find it before the sun goes down. 
 
 It may be a very modest little jewel, 
 
 Or perchance a very brilliant one, 
 
 Fit for the very centre of thy crown. 
 
 I would that I could take thee in mine arms 
 
 And carry thee safely o'er the rougher paths, 
 
 So that thy strength could all be reserved, 
 
 For the gaining of thy crown. 
 
 But I can only whisper gently 
 
 Little songs of love to thee, 
 
 329 
 
On thy weary journey, which will take thee 
 Far across the sea. There, when thou 
 Hast reached thy haven, thou wilt find 
 A crown prepared for thee, so I 
 Shall whisper little songs of love to thee, 
 To brighten up thy spirit, and make thee sing 
 Sweet songs of joy for me. Thou dearest 
 And bravest of souls, I daily pray for thee. 
 That God may never withhold His face 
 From thy sight so free. And ere the sun 
 Has set, I will bring thy jewel to thee. 
 
 I cannot give a poem, not even a rhyme 
 
 But the words that I shall say, 
 
 Come from this heart of mine. 
 
 Why, I have made a rhyme, 
 
 I wonder how it happened? 
 
 Why, I call that fine! And I am as proud 
 
 As Punch, to think I have made a rhyme. 
 
 I never thought I could, 
 
 But it is hard to tell, what is hidden 
 
 In an oyster shell. It may be a pearl 
 
 Of greatest price, that has come 
 
 From the waters deep; or it may be 
 
 A bad, bad oyster, at which we would not even 
 
 Care to peep. But 
 
 My friend, never slight a modest soul, 
 
 For the wells of God may be hidden there so 
 
 deep. 
 There now! I have told my tale in rhyme 
 And I am so happy, I fear I shall rhyme 
 
 All the time! 
 330 
 
Our souls are ofttimes seared, 
 By the breath of a thought, and again 
 We are transported to an ecstasy of bliss 
 By the merest lifting of an eyelash. 
 
 Thy power of song shall come forth soon, 
 
 So rest thy soul, and do not use 
 
 Thy strength and energy, all at noon. 
 
 But reserve a portion for the soft night's moon, 
 
 When thy soul can steal forth, 
 
 To join the fairies, who revel not at noon. 
 
 They will take thee to their dells 
 
 All filled with flowers and exquisite shells 
 
 And there they will spread a feast, 
 
 One fit for the gods to see, 
 
 Of nectar, and their finest fruits. 
 
 All so dainty and delicate, that thou 
 
 Them can scarcely feel or see. These fairies 
 
 Of the night, that are awaiting thee. 
 
 An island of beauty I see, such exquisite flowers 
 And trees; of a deeper hue than is accorded 
 To most of our views. The paths so gently 
 
 wind 
 And all lead to a home, where comfort and 
 
 beauty 
 Are combined. 'Tis a spot where I shall dwell 
 And commune only with my God, whom I love 
 
 so well. 
 
 331 
 
Pain is the leveler, absolutely the only quantity 
 Putting all on equal ground. 
 
 Desire is that which rises uppermost in our 
 sensibilities, created by a suggestion, sight, or 
 even a thought, all in proportion to the strength 
 of our mind, or of the object, or sender, or 
 creator. 
 
 Truth is that clear light which elevates the 
 soul into balmy, billowy clouds of absolute peace. 
 
 My soul has longed to soar amid the clouds, 
 They form such exquisite billowy waves of 
 
 rest, 
 So soft and yielding, yet so immense 
 That I could float, and float forever on their 
 
 crest. 
 
 Dream, soul, dream. Thou must not always 
 Be on the wing. Close thine eyes, 
 And pillow thy head, and rest thy spirit 
 
 In dreams, sweet dreams. 
 
 Along the weary march, grow the flowers 
 Of purest love, sending forth a blessing 
 
 From above ! 
 
 332 
 
I am inclined to wonder if the stars read aright? 
 Where are all the great, and glorious promises 
 That come to us at night? Each twinkling light 
 Shines out the brighter for the blacker night. 
 So perhaps, our lives will gain in glory 
 By the lessening of our promises so bright. 
 
 Come, my soul, cease to fret and do thy work 
 Which only thou knowest just the best. 
 The myriads of stars all have their part 
 In this grand, wide world of ours. 
 So we, my friends, if we fail to carry our part, 
 Disarrange the whole of our Maker's art. 
 There is a space to fill in the beautiful 
 Rounding of time. O my friend, be thou not 
 Among the ones to 
 
 There is a gate which leads to realms of beauty 
 Both grand, and O so fair. It is high and wide 
 With a strength that is more than many have 
 
 the grace 
 Upon which to bear. It yields not to every- 
 one's call; 
 Only merit has the key with which it to un- 
 lock, 
 And merit is gained only with a golden heart, 
 And by absolute love of our part, only, is a 
 golden heart. 
 
 333 
 
Let us wander together in the rifts of light 
 
 That are thrown from God's most dazzling 
 height. 
 
 We shall see most wonderful sights, 
 
 That would be almost beyond our powers of de- 
 light, 
 
 So great is the beauty and glory of God's own 
 light. 
 
 There is only a shadowy curtain that hides it 
 
 From everyone's sight. And it rests with the 
 soul 
 
 To very gently part it, and let in God's light. 
 
 There dwelt a maid so fair, in a palace of 
 
 dreams 
 And journeys, that took her everywhere. 
 
 O my soul of high estate, come down 
 
 And sit thee here with me, 
 
 In this quiet, modest room 
 
 Where I have dwelt so much of late. 
 
 Give to me of thy most learned powers 
 
 That I may henceforth state 
 
 So clearly and so brightly 
 
 All the things of fate. So that none 
 
 But truth shall with me abide. 
 
 And that I may, in turn, send forth 
 
 Only love and grace to all my kind. 
 
 Come to me, and relate all the tales 
 
 Of thy innermost state. 
 
 Thou hast journeyed far, and in many lands 
 
 334 
 
Thou wilt surely have 
 
 Many themes on which we can wander 
 
 Far, far into space. O my soul 
 
 Thou hast so deserted of me, 
 
 Wilt thou not come and help me 
 
 In my work of putting forth 
 
 Lines of truth and grace? O my soul 
 
 Art thou coming on the wings of fate? 
 
 Come, my soul, let us gather all the flowers 
 Along the way. They are not hidden, 
 
 But scattered forth each new day. 
 
 My heart, why dost thou pant, and strive 
 And struggle, for what thou knowest is not 
 On the pages to be read, just yet. 
 In all good time, thou wilt come into thine own, 
 So rest thy heart, My OWN ! 
 
 The sun will set upon a task accomplished 
 A life finished, its time spun out 
 To the last turn of the wheel, and the soul 
 Launched upon the waves of God's love. 
 
 Ere another sun has set, thou wilt know 
 The hidden mysteries of many things. 
 Thou wilt know the source from which all gifts 
 Are drawn. The great and glorious lights 
 Will shine straight into this life of thine. 
 Thou wilt read the pages of the book divine 
 335 
 
In which all love and light combine. 
 
 And thy soul will flow out into strains sublime. 
 
 Ah me, the brightness of thy soul 
 
 Sheds its beams afar. 
 
 Bringing love, light and cheer, 
 
 Where all had been dark and full of fear. 
 
 God sent us all a blessing 
 
 Which we in our soul should cherish, 
 
 Each to bring forth the talents 
 
 That had latent lain; and we, 
 
 Have we answered to our call? 
 
 Are we sending out a blessing 
 
 To one and all? Is our soul 
 
 Expanding to the light of day, 
 
 Bringing charity for all along the way? 
 
 Then truly we are answering God's call. 
 
 There is one thing that the world must learn 
 Before the highest good can come; and that is 
 The Golden Rule. Nothing is greater, higher 
 Or more pure, than the thought thus inscribed 
 " Do unto others as you would be done by." 
 
 Light and sunshine everywhere 
 
 In our hearts, our lives, our homes 
 
 And even in our cares. 
 
 336 
 
Come, come, little one, thou must mend thy 
 
 ways. 
 Eager footsteps thou must have, to do more 
 Than thy plays. Thy tongue thou must fasten 
 
 tight 
 Or else thou wilt find thy life not so bright, 
 For with all thy grumbling thou dost find life 
 
 bright. 
 
 Beautiful days, golden days, 
 Are these of thy life's best time. 
 When' all the Muses meet, 
 
 To help thee rhyme. 
 
 Thou must not stay too long, but up 
 And away for a time, to gain the air 
 
 Of song. 
 
 My soul of light, I am always in thy sight 
 To help, strengthen, cheer, and bring thee 
 
 To a brighter light. 
 
 Come, darling, be of cheer, 
 
 Turn thy heart to the sun's bright rays 
 
 And never allow a fear 
 
 To enter thy mind, to quench any of thy cheer. 
 
 Time has in store for thee 
 Many a pleasant day, by land and sea 
 So be of stout a heart, and free. 
 337 
 
Coming, Love, coming, do you hear me Love, 
 I am whispering words of adoration, Love. 
 Put thy heart in tune with mine, Love, 
 So that thou canst catch the finest line, Love. 
 
 The wild winds do blow, and we are driven 
 With their force, not to rest where we most de-. 
 
 sire 
 But ever on we must go, until we reach that 
 
 land 
 
 Where the wild winds never blow. 
 
 The mysteries of the days are fast coming 
 
 Into view. Many things that gleamed 
 
 With strange fantastic hues, are now in the 
 
 plain 
 White light of everyday dues. 
 
 There is a turn to be made right soon 
 
 Which will require a firm, strong hand, 
 
 A steady eye, and a will of force and might, 
 
 So that thy bark will not strike a reef 
 
 Or drift out into the dark, dark night. 
 
 My Love, art thou happy in thy new estate? 
 Is thy — is thy heart content ? 
 Dost thou never wander back to the olden days 
 When we in a garden dwelt? When our hearts 
 Were pure, and full of love, and a blessing 
 Was all we desired from above? 
 338 
 
I cannot catch your answer, it is far too faint. 
 O my love, my love, beware, beware, 
 
 Ere it is too late. 
 For thou wilt sigh for the garden, my love 
 When thou art far away, and wouldst give thy 
 
 life 
 For a flower, from the garden of olden days. 
 
 Come, merry be thy soul, merry be thy life, 
 Sing for joy, and think not of anyone but me, 
 
 My best loved light ! 
 
 Wander, wander, all the day, till thy feet 
 Have weary grown. Then, turn thy way to 
 God 
 
 And HOME! 
 
 Art thou athirst for something fine 
 
 And sweet? Is thy life not yet complete? 
 
 Dost thou grope in the dark as yet? 
 
 Hast thou not discovered the path to content 
 
 And rest? Dost thou, blind soul, not know 
 
 It is right within thy breast, and thou 
 
 Art hunting far and wide, and slighting 
 
 The gifts thy God has bestowed upon thy soul? 
 
 He who always knoweth best the talents 
 
 We each can apply. I pray thee open thine 
 
 eyes 
 And look to thyself, alone, for thy prize. 
 
 339 
 
Content, my friend, content, 
 
 Disturb not thy soul. 
 
 Else thou wilt lose the finest strains 
 
 That are wafted to thee 
 
 From over the desert's farthest shore. 
 
 O my darling, I list to thy voice 
 
 As it comes across the sea, 
 
 Bringing a strange sweet melody 
 
 Of tones so divine, as to almost 
 
 Lift my soul to thine. 
 
 Some day I shall reach thy high estate 
 
 And then thou canst sing of thy love 
 
 And my fate. 
 
 Oft I sit and ponder on the things of fate, 
 And I truly wonder, what has come over 
 
 everything 
 Of late. Nothing seems to please the people 
 Of any state. All are in a whirl, 
 And go a mad, mad gait, to lose the sense of 
 
 fear, 
 Every scheme seems to work itself to nought, 
 Even the days seem undecided as to their part. 
 One time jumping on apace, then darting back 
 To travel the same road twice in haste 
 To gain their proper space. There must be a 
 
 hand 
 That guides these fates, with a wisdom 
 Wider than our eyes can trace, 
 Else there would be nothing but space. 
 So I often sit and ponder what are the fates. 
 340 
 
There is no telling how the stars come forth 
 
 To greet the night. They simply shine out bold 
 
 And bright, and each has its tale to tell, / 
 
 If we could but scale the heights, and draw forth 
 
 From the splendor of the sights, 
 
 Pictures that would start us on a train of 
 
 thought 
 Both new and endlessly fraught with delight. 
 
 Idly dreaming, 'twixt the night and day, 
 
 I often see. strange sights. 
 
 See? No, I do not see, but rather sense 
 
 With my spiritual sight, a group of warriors 
 
 Bold and eager for the fray. 
 
 Or a line of ancients past my sight do stray. 
 
 Then again some weary travelers 
 
 On their homeward way. There a group of 
 
 children, 
 Happy at their play ; and then, ah me, 
 Sometimes I see a long, long line of people 
 Groping on the ground, their way 
 And the scene will change. I see 
 A great white light, so dazzling with its force 
 And might, that I see faintly, beyond its depths, 
 The Throne of the King on high. 
 And beyond that still, a land of roses, 
 Where we all may dwell, if we follow 
 
 The great White Light! 
 
 I wonder if in all your travels, 
 This fine, bright day, 
 341 
 
You gave me a thought, or a wish 
 That I might away. 
 
 Come, and in my garden we will walk. 
 
 It is filled with all the flowers 
 
 Of every land. Its paths are shaded, 
 
 Cool and sweet; its fruits are luscious 
 
 And the waters, rushing forth 
 
 From many springs, carry healing 
 
 In every drop it brings. We will scarce 
 
 Desire to wander back to the noise 
 
 And glamour of our daily life, 
 
 Without the walls of this, 
 
 My Garden of Life ! 
 
 Ah, who has not felt the thrillings 
 Of a kindred soul; the peaceful atmosphere 
 That surrounds the whole of space, 
 When we dwell within its light 
 
 Of love and grace. 
 
 Peace, love, peace! Do not flutter so, 
 You are my captive, wherever you go. 
 My thoughts bind you with a chain of love, 
 So that where'er you are, 
 
 You are my love! 
 
 My hopes are now held high 
 Of a time of festive scene, 
 Of revel and dance, and all the things 
 342 
 
That seem to be of import fine, 
 
 And to which most of the people incline. 
 
 If my soul will be satisfied 
 
 I might abide; but I have a wide, wide fear 
 
 That I shall be dissatisfied, and back 
 
 To my quiet home, will stray my feet 
 
 For there with my God, I can abide 
 
 And revel in his most glorious care, 
 
 Of song that is everywhere in my home alive. 
 
 My soul will not athirsted be, 
 
 I shall in a garden of dreams to dwell 
 
 On my return from the world's mad whirl. 
 
 The sun shines, the air is clear and bracing, 
 
 Tempting me to go to the woods, 
 
 There to revel in the shady nooks, 
 
 To watch the squirrels darting here and there, 
 
 Gathering up their winter's hoard 
 
 Against the famine time to come. 
 
 They are wiser than most of us, 
 
 Are these squirrels of the wood. 
 
 The days for dreams are gone 
 
 I must work, and work, 
 
 For my world will have only of song. 
 
 My heart is not yet rested on its firmer base, 
 But some day I shall dwell in peace 
 Of love and harmony of thought, with one 
 From whom I now am far apart. 
 
 343 
 
October, October, October, 
 
 Sweetly sings the morning air 
 
 Of October's most delightful days. 
 
 The warmth of Summer, with thy bracing vim 
 
 Brings one to the highest time of the year 
 
 When all things are glowing with a gold 
 
 And scarlet light, making the woods a dream 
 
 Of delight. Soon they will be bare, bleak 
 
 And brown, and the gray mists will have settled 
 
 All around. The fires will blaze on the hearth 
 
 To give us the light of thy tones 
 
 And thou shalt be gone, with only a leaf, 
 
 To remind us of thy glorious reign, 
 
 October, October, October. 
 
 Hearts dwelling in sweet content, 
 
 Lives mingling in a vast intent, 
 
 Make a happy, peaceful home, or tent. 
 
 what a dark, dark spot, 
 
 1 wish I could blot it out. 
 I have tried, and tried, 
 But it will not rub out. 
 Why, O why did I not know 
 That it would blot my soul, 
 Heart and life, that tiny deed 
 That was not quite right. 
 
 I will break the seal that has bound thee tight, 
 I will set thy soul on its mountain height, 
 I will bring thy life to a perfect light, 
 344 
 
So that thy heart shall bound with delight. 
 Thou Angel of God's most perfect sight. 
 
 Well, my dancing joy, 
 Coming on the wings of night, 
 I truly am rejoiced 
 To see thy face so bright. 
 
 Cease from all thy sorrows, 
 Rest thy cares upon my heart. 
 It will carry them for thee 
 Into God's most perfect part. 
 There to be absorbed 
 By the Angels of Rest, and I 
 Will return with a crown 
 For on thy head to rest. 
 
 Softly flows the life that lives with God. 
 
 It ripples gently on, through meadows 
 
 And fields of flowers gay; and finally 
 
 Joins the great broad river of everlasting DAY ! 
 
 The river rushes on, with ever increasing force 
 And takes each little twig and leaf to flutter 
 Until they are crushed with its onward rush. 
 It cleanses the firmer rocks, stones and pebbles, 
 No matter how fine, and holds to us a lesson 
 That we must cultivate a staunchness we all 
 shall need 
 
 In time. 
 345 
 
Loving little thoughts ! How they spread ! 
 Casting their glow over our heads, 
 Enwrapping us in a veil of gauze so fine, 
 Not perceptible to the ordinary eye or mind. 
 But O what a protection from the evil ones 
 That would rend ! A soul thus protected 
 By the loving thoughts of friends, is free 
 To wend its way to the gladsome end. 
 
 Dreams are paths over which we travel 
 Without bodily fatigue, but as much a part 
 Of our life, as the daily toil and pleasure. 
 
 Evil thoughts that fly, 
 
 Cast a gloom where'er they go. 
 
 They are deep depressers, 
 
 Ofttimes causing death to all the hopes. 
 
 And a soul deprived of hope, sinks, 
 
 To go out, even as the flame of a candle 
 
 Blown by a strong wind; so, one and all, 
 
 Beware of the slightest depression. 
 
 Respond, by sending a loving thought 
 
 To some one soul, no matter whom. 
 
 It creates a wave of love and harmony, 
 
 And brings a return from some soul, 
 
 Which helps to tide over the wave 
 
 Of Depression, and so free thy soul 
 
 To its upward flight. 
 
 Come, love, come, is it not time 
 I should see thy face? 
 
 346 
 
Are our lives not intended 
 To create some fine high thoughts? 
 In which to give verse of our soul's best part? 
 O come, my love, come. 
 
 In the evening's silent shade, 
 
 I will come to thee, and together 
 
 We can create a work of art. 
 
 We shall live a life of finest part 
 
 You and I, my darling of my heart. 
 
 I will love thee all thy life, 
 
 Whate'er thy troubles be. 
 
 My soul will always cling to thee. 
 
 If thy care and sorrows bow thee low, 
 
 I will gently force thee back 
 
 To stand erect, and so put all thy foes 
 
 Behind thy path, that thou hast yet to tread. 
 
 I will love thee, love thee all thy life 
 
 And my soul will be forever in thy sight. 
 
 The life is short, the way is broad, 
 
 That leads to unholy things not of God. 
 
 His path is narrow and full of thorns 
 
 And a continual fighting all the way along. 
 
 But at the turning, it suddenly opens 
 
 To a vision of a garden just beyond, 
 
 Where the breadth, depth, height and length 
 
 Are above the conception of mortal man 
 
 And is a continual great, grand song. 
 
 347 
 
Dreary days are coming so I must gather 
 All the cheer and bind it O so tightly, 
 So that I shall have no fear for lack of cheer 
 When the days grow drear. 
 
 Visions open out before me, visions of a land 
 
 far away. 
 Of a country full of mystery and charm, 
 And where the higher thoughts carry full sway. 
 The dreamy existence in the temples that are 
 
 builded 
 For our stay, is conducive to bring the forces 
 To work their way. There we lose the rush and 
 
 strife 
 Of life to-day, and our souls can force their 
 
 flight 
 To the innermost light of God's beautiful way. 
 
 If I could live in the light of the sun, 
 
 In the glorious freedom of the cares 
 
 That are daily run, 
 
 I could write of the wonders that now are held 
 
 Far out of sight 
 
 Of those who live in this life's mad run. 
 
 O for one grand song, in which to sing 
 
 The beauties of our path along. 
 
 All the merry sunshine, flowers and lives so 
 
 gay, 
 Give one such a sense of comfort all the way. 
 The happy nod, and still happier smile 
 348 
 
Of our friends who think us worth while. 
 All tend to cheer the slightest part 
 That might be drear. The bracing air, 
 The children, happy at their play; the shops 
 All burdened with their bright display, 
 Make me dream of a song that some day 
 I shall write, and give away! 
 
 My love is fast engulfing thee in a long warm 
 
 embrace. 
 Thy life wijl flow out into channels wide 
 And with harmony, thy songs 
 Shall fill the entire space, giving to all 
 An ineffable grace. 
 
 The passion in my body almost drives 
 My soul to any port. But no ! 
 I think of him, who lived a life 
 Of sweet intent. And then my soul 
 But goes to God, and of the finer, 
 Higher thoughts He does to me impart; 
 And I in turn, in my poor way 
 
 Give them forth from my heart. 
 
 O sweetheart, what of the day? 
 Is my way to be thy way? 
 And is God's way to be our way? 
 Sweetheart, what of the day? 
 
 349 
 
Come, come with me, and I will show you 
 Many wonders on the way, which otherwise 
 You might not see, or bring to light of day. 
 
 Forgetting, O my soul, am I forgetting? 
 No, not the least little part of thy life. 
 It is riven on my heart and in my life. 
 And never shall I part. No, of the least 
 Or the smallest of thy arts. 
 
 Well, my man, how goes the world with thee? 
 
 Thou art proud of thy life just now, 
 
 And 'tis thou shouldst be. 
 
 But be very careful, 
 
 Or a stumbling block will appear, 
 
 Right in the way 
 
 And if thou push it aside 
 
 With the least contempt, beware, 
 
 Or it will crush of thee. 
 
 And thy wife whom thou adore, will show out 
 
 In color, to make thee deplore. 
 
 The true inner soul will come to the fore, 
 
 And thou wilt amazed be; so careful 
 
 Of crushing thy foes ( ?) my friend, 
 
 For in so doing will come all thy woes. 
 
 Thou hast been very short-sighted, my dear 
 Or thou wouldst have had a friend 
 For thy life-long cheer. 
 Thy heart so jealously cried 
 That it carried its strain to the last long line 
 35o 
 
And thou broke the chain that would have 
 
 bound thee 
 In bonds of love, and name. 
 So now thou hast only thyself with which to 
 
 abide. 
 
 Thou hast not made the best of thy life, 
 Thou hast given to others all thy light, 
 With never a care or a thought for thine own 
 
 delight. 
 But now, my own, thou wilt come to light, 
 
 And all things bright! 
 
 Thou hast almost run thy course, my friend, 
 In the shaping of others' lives. 
 In thy life thou wilt make a success 
 But of thy soul I would rather not write — 
 It is too low for my pen. 
 
 Thou darling soul, thou art so brave and true, 
 Thou hast many a sorrow deep in thy life to rue 
 But thou art ever in the line of the brave and 
 true. 
 
 Thou? Well thou hardly need 
 
 A writing of thy life. 
 
 It stands out bold and startling 
 
 To the passer-by, and needs no pen of mine 
 
 To give its cry. 
 
 351 
 
Pillow thy head upon my breast 
 
 And I will soothe thee into everlasting rest. 
 
 O thou soul of purity, thou art so divine. 
 
 Thou dost inspire thoughts of the highest, 
 
 Finest kind. O my precious soul, 
 
 My love divine, pillow thy head 
 
 Upon this breast of mine. 
 
 The heart, think thou that emotions 
 
 Come from the heart? Nay, it but responds 
 
 Tq the thought. Thought is everything. 
 
 Life, air, flower, everything that grows 
 
 Or is builded, is a result of thought. 
 
 Even and odd, odd and even, 
 
 Even and even, odd and odd, 
 
 Is not our life so run? 
 
 Can you better describe 
 
 An ordinary life, or one 
 
 That is higher run? 
 
 No my friend, not if you write 
 
 Till life is done. 
 The world is so big, so wide and so vast 
 And so filled with unutterable things. 
 All this glitter and pomp and show, 
 Are but masks to hide the hollowness below. 
 But there is always a breath of the pure, sweet 
 
 air 
 And to those who are attuned, 
 It brings a message from God 
 
 That good is everywhere. 
 352 
 
I will soon reach the shores of that glorious 
 
 land, 
 The land of the Christmas Time. 
 O my, what a world of excitement and noise, 
 With so many dolls, and so many toys! 
 With tracks and trains, of cars with bridges 
 And tunnels, and a station at " Boys." 
 O that glorious Land of Christmas Toys. 
 
 Sweetly chirps the mountain bird 
 
 As he sits a dreaming in the sun. 
 
 Away, away, I must away, to sunny climes, 
 
 Until the winter's time has run 
 
 Its course of cold and snow and ice. 
 
 The days are gone of the falling leaves, 
 The winter's cold comes on apace. 
 The frosts sink deep, and the winds increase, 
 And Lo, we are wrapped in a winter's fleece. 
 Soft and light, and all things covered in a night. 
 We should make ready for a time of delight, 
 Of Thanksgiving cheer, and Santa Claus' flight 
 From unknown realms, where he gathers his 
 
 horde, 
 That to us brings joy in a night. 
 All our heart's desires he reads as he flies, 
 And he smiles to think how very unwise it would 
 
 be 
 To grant all wishes that fly to the skies, 
 And there are recorded in such a great big book, 
 Until some time later, when each wish flies home 
 353 
 
To its own, own nook. So beware of desire 
 That fathers the wish. It may return 
 A scourge, with which thou must dwell. 
 I started to muse on the weather, but alas, 
 I have drifted like a feather. Here and there 
 My thoughts have gone, tossed by every wind, 
 And I have lost sight of the weather. 
 
 THE END 
 
 354 
 
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