Class 
 Book. 
 
 Copyright }1^. 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 
 
 by 
 J. F. Como 
 
 McCanna, N. D. 
 
J. F. COMO 
 
CHRISTABEL 
 
 AND 
 OTHER POEMS 
 
 [By J. F. CoMo 
 M 
 
if ^ 
 
 m 26 i317 
 
 ©CU457587 
 
this little book 
 
 is dedicated to 
 
 Miss Loretta McNally 
 
CHRISTABEL 
 
 Low in the west the sinking sun 
 Told that the summer's day was done; 
 While in the quiet evening air 
 
 A thousand birds were singing fair, | 
 
 Holding spell bound the human heart j 
 
 That listened to the heavenly art. j 
 
 Peace reigned above, yet in one soul ^ ] 
 
 A love there lived beyond control | 
 
 That gently swayed a human breast 
 Which seemed at peace yet could not rest; 
 Fair Christabel, a lovely maid, | 
 
 Along the ocean's margin strayed 
 
 With eyes set on the distant sea j 
 
 That slept as calm as sleep could be, j 
 
While at her back a stately wood 
 In Nature's grandest splendor stood. 
 
 "O waters calm, ye birds so fair 
 That wing with joy the pleasant air, 
 I know that all are happy. I 
 Should be as free, nor let a sigh 
 Escape me if my lover's hand 
 Were now but holding mine. This landj 
 This sea, this air, these woods around 
 Would then be quite celestial ground, 
 As joy and happiness would grace 
 His eyes divine, content, my face." 
 
 She once more o'er the waters gazed, 
 And lo, a boat the liquid glazed, 
 Sped on, in easy flight, to reach. 
 That rocky, famed New England beach 
 
Where she was waiting with a love 
 Whose depth was known by only, those above. 
 She gazed a moment, then she knew 
 It was the man whose smile was ever new. 
 O how her bosom sank and swell'd 
 As on his form her fancy dwell'd 
 His face, though it could not be seen. 
 She knew was calm and quite serene; 
 And in his eye, that heavenly eye, 
 There lived a power to make her die. 
 Or make celestial transport glow 
 Which lovers hearts alone may know. 
 Then to the forest tall and green 
 The maiden bent her steps serene. 
 And when she to the forest came 
 She backward glanc'd, repeating his name; 
 
Then blushing maidenly she fled 
 Behind the curtains Nature Spread. 
 
 But now the boat has reached the shore 
 And Freeman treads where he must tread no more, 
 Beholding sights of lustrous grace 
 In Nature's happy smiling face, 
 Praising each songbird's tuneful note, 
 Admiring each flower's velvet coat, 
 Or talking in a language low 
 To rippling streams that knew no woe. 
 
 Then to enjoy the closing day 
 Along the seaside did he stray, 
 Oft gazing o'er the quiet sea 
 As if to solve some mystery. 
 Then walking to the forest side 
 He inly mused. His future bride 
 
Beheld the blooming lines of pride 
 And noble birth that marked his face 
 And gave unto his eyes an added grace. 
 
 "O that I had her by my side, 
 My Christabel, my fair young bride." 
 He ceased: fair Christabel appeared 
 Beyond the forest stately reared, 
 And though the setting sun revealed 
 A scene of beauty unconcealed 
 The fairest thing there to be seen 
 Was Christabel, in form a queen. 
 For never woman graced this earth 
 Whose name could claim a nobler birth. 
 
 "Star of my life," thus he did say, 
 As thru his eyes his love did shine. 
 "Of all that I have seen today 
 
Thou art the one I think divine." ■ 
 
 "Star of my life", thus she began, ; 
 
 "Thou'rt more to me than mortal man, | 
 
 Though there are mortals on this earth I 
 
 Who well may claim a heavenly birth. j 
 
 If ever God was glorified .■ 
 
 By those we mortals justly pride, | 
 
 He has been glorified by thee, ] 
 
 Thou who hast been so much to me." I 
 
 And then what followed would be wrong 
 
 For poet to relate in song, j 
 
 Save that the lovely Christabel 1 
 
 Did promise she would be his bride 1 
 
 And live with him in some fair dell i 
 
 Away from city life and pride. ■ 
 Their hopes were brighter than the star 
 
That gleamed above the western bar 
 To tell the world (and lovers, too) 
 That sable light would claim its due. 
 
 But now the darkening shades of even 
 Enveloped half of earth and heaven, 
 So that the lovers had to part 
 With joy and sorrow in each heart. 
 But oh, they little knew how near 
 The form of death was hovering here : 
 That e'er the morning sun would rise 
 Upon it's journey thru the skies 
 What now was but a peaceful wave 
 Would be some luckless sailor's grave. 
 
 Part The Second 
 
 Now while the night, light's brother king; 
 Did o'er the earth his garment fling, 
 
The sceptered monarch of the sea 
 Bade the strong eastern wind go free, 
 With strong determined breath to sweep 
 The vast plains of the Atlantic deep. 
 The wind obeyed and o'er the sea 
 It flew, rejoicing it was free. 
 At first it flew in gentle flight 
 And stirred the tresses of the night, 
 But soon the sleeping billows felt 
 The blow each wing so sternly dealt, 
 And rose, with lightning round its breast 
 To avenge a lost and needed rest. 
 It's bosom heaved, and mountain high 
 The waves redoubled to the sky, 
 And soon across the sleeping main 
 Did rage a mighty hurricane. 
 
Mark Freeman on the sounding shore 
 Stood listening to the ocean's roar, 
 A troubled and impatient soul 
 Which sank to see the water's roll; 
 For o'er the ocean's stormy wave 
 His father was to come that day. 
 The burning thot came to his heart 
 And pierced his soul with many a dart 
 While fear, the form that makes men weak 
 Gave color to his lips and cheek. 
 
 At last he left the ocean's shore 
 Unable to endure its roar; 
 For oft he thot he heard a cry, 
 Which, moaning in the water's sigh 
 Sounded as if the watery deep 
 Did, in its pain and sorrow, weep 
 
For all the evil it had done 
 
 To Eden's mortal, wayward son, 
 
 The storm increased and mountain high 
 The waves redoubled to the sky 
 Assuming strange, demoniac forms 
 Who laugh to scorn the rage of storms 
 As dancing, awful, grim and black 
 They rode upon the tempest's back; 
 The monster waves, great Neptunes pride, 
 From crest to crest were valley- wide; 
 And when the ocean yawned it seemed 
 That awful Death in terror gleamed 
 Telling the sailors, strong and brave. 
 That they could find a sailor's grave 
 Beneath each black, portentious wave. 
 Black rocks from out the watery deep 
 
Did o'er the ocean's bosom sweep, 
 And seemed to laugh, in awful play, 
 As if they held grim Death in sway: 
 The blackened clouds in terror sank 
 As on the scene their eyesight drank. 
 And wept to think of all the woe, 
 Which man must meet in such a foe. 
 Now on the stormy, seething sea 
 A vessel rode in agony. 
 Without a sail, without a mast, 
 With all its former courage past; 
 For never ship that rode the main 
 Could live in such a hurricane. 
 Helpless the care-worn sailors clung 
 Upon the ropes that loosely swung, 
 And only God in Heaven could save 
 
Those sailors from a watery grave. 
 
 The captain, Freeman's father, stood 
 Upon the deck and faced the flood, 
 While o'er, about, and round him fell 
 The ocean's waves as fire in hell 
 Envelops all that therein dwell. 
 In vain the captain strove to calm 
 Their hearts by word of mouth or sign of palm 
 For each man knew, in frenzied fear, 
 That awful Death was hovering near; 
 And each ill-fated sailor pray'd 
 To God in Heaven for His aid. 
 
 Mark Freeman's father, pale and weak 
 Thus inly to himself did speak: 
 "Thus ends my long, sea beaten life 
 Beneath the sea which I did wife: 
 
Tis not the stamp of Death I dread, 
 
 Nor do I fear a watery bed, 
 
 But O! it is the thought that I 
 
 So near my hearth and home must die. 
 
 So is it now! my evening sun 
 I hoped would be a glorious one; 
 But no! the home that's dear to me 
 Now only mocks my misery!" 
 
 Then to the shore he fixed his sight 
 And saw a flickering, mocking light, 
 Whose beams fell deep into his soul 
 As o'er the angry waves they stole. 
 He turn'd his face ; a mighty rock 
 Loom'd up in front, his pain to mock, 
 While heedlessly the ship did loom 
 Against it and received its doom; 
 
Then from the heart of Freeman's sire 
 Spontaneous words were give fire: 
 
 "O mighty Father," (thus he pray'd), 
 "I place my soul, which Thou hast made 
 Into thy Hands so pure and white, 
 And trust it in Thy merciful might ! 
 Forgive me. Father, if my soul 
 To Thee seems dark, ungrateful foul! — 
 My life ungrateful, dark, has been 
 A life of crime and deadly sin, 
 But Father, do not let me die 
 As I have lived ! In years gone by 
 I little thot the truth of all 
 The words that from thy priests did fall ! 
 I know it now! I know it now! 
 And how that knowledge stamps my brow! 
 
He ceased in sorrow, well he knew 
 What God has said shall e'er come true. 
 "Be careful how thy years flit by; 
 For as you live so shall you die!" 
 
 Meanwhile, upon the sounding shore 
 A throng of sturdy men did pour 
 To aid, if aid could given be, 
 The sailors on the surging sea. 
 Mark Freeman too, was there and prayed 
 To God for strength that he may aid 
 A father on a stormy main 
 That made the very thot of rescue vain, 
 For it seem'd hopeless (e'en despair) 
 For any boat to weather there. 
 
 Mark Freeman, marking sea and sky, 
 Resolved to gain his end or die; 
 
And leaped, with angry, nervous leap, ' 
 
 Into a boat and faced the deep. 
 
 In vain he strove ! the mighty sea 1 
 
 Mark Freeman! proved its strength to thee: , 
 It hurled thee on the rocky shore i 
 
 And braved thy heart to face it more ! l 
 
 Mark Freeman, dazed, defeated, rose < 
 
 And braved again the ocean's woes, ; 
 
 But friends detained him. Vainly he j 
 
 Did plea of them his liberty: 
 
 "O friends! O friends!" (thus Freeman prayed) i 
 Give me! give me your needed aid! | 
 
 I have a father on the sea ■ 
 
 Who waits, but O! in vain for me! 
 If all here have a heart of stone, ; 
 
 Then let me! let me! go alone ; 
 
To perish by my father's side, 
 Who never help to me denied!" 
 
 "O Freeman," thus a sailor said, 
 "If thou attempts it thou are dead; 
 For in my years, now twice two-score, 
 I ne'er beheld such a storm before. 
 Ah ! look upon 't ! the sight will make 
 Thy heart in awful fear to quake'-" 
 
 Undaunted, Freeman begg'd again 
 For some one's aid, but ask'd in vain • 
 For every man confess'd despair 
 When on the sea he cast his eye 
 Deep hollow'd by a nervous care 
 To know that friends so near must die. 
 
 Mark Freeman faced the raging main 
 And heard a cry that gave him pain; 
 
But who ? but who would lend him aid 
 To ride the waves that now display'd 
 Faint lurid lights? A form divine 
 Appeared beyond the sailor line 
 And offered aid. Fair Christabel 
 Prompted by love divine and true, 
 Had left the home she loved so well 
 To follow Freeman o'er the waves, 
 Which showed a thousand horrid graves — 
 
 Mark Freeman knew her. From his heart 
 The sense of pride did then depart. 
 While from his eye a falling tear 
 Fell on her hand so sweet and dear. 
 He kiss'd her loving, maiden cheek 
 While softly sadly he did speak: 
 
 "O holy maid! O holy maid! 
 
No tongue has asked of thee such aid! 
 Though now I see thy maiden love 
 Has something of the stamp above 
 In Heaven, Maiden, do not brave 
 This sea that must become your grave; 
 For I cannot endure to see 
 Thy meekness share my misery!" 
 
 "O Mark," (the maiden thus replies) 
 While happiness stood in her eyes) 
 ''Where e'er thou goest I shall go, 
 And share thy happiness or woe; 
 For Mark, since thou hast won me I 
 Shall live with thee, or with thee die!" 
 
 She said no more; but by his side 
 She faced the milk-white, angry tide, 
 Entrusting to her God above 
 
1 
 
 i 
 
 Herself and him she'd die to love; j 
 
 While Freeman did for courage pray I 
 
 From God, who saw all things tiiat day. \ 
 
 Mark Freeman worked with hiighty strength, ; 
 
 And at each stroke three cubits length ] 
 Of angry waves, were covered o'er, 
 
 And soon they faded from the shore. j 
 
 They neared the vessel: Freeman turned 3 
 (For fear within his bosom burned) 
 To Christabel: could she withhold 
 
 The fury of the waters cold? | 
 
 How could her form, so weak and fair, I 
 
 Stand out against the ocean's ire." i 
 
 He looked upon her azure face j 
 
 And knew he then would win the race : | 
 
 As though an angel, sent from Heaven, i 
 
His aid to Christabel had given, 
 And labored still beside her form 
 Commanding boat and sea, and storm, 
 
 And now they near'd the rock, whereon 
 The raging sea the ship had thrown 
 To an ill-fated vessel's doom 
 That must become each sailor's tomb. 
 The rock they pass'd ; then in the sea 
 Mark Freeman, bravely, nervously 
 The anchor cast, it held them fast 
 Though every moment seemed to be its last. 
 
 Now on this ship , twice twenty two 
 Totaled the number of the crew; 
 Yet in the boat but twenty-three 
 Could safely ride on such a sea; 
 And when a rope, from th' vessels side 
 
Was hurl'd above the seething tide 
 Twenty-ofie sailors, sorted out, 
 By Freeman's father, gave a shout 
 And plunged into the seething sea 
 Which held the rope of destiny. 
 
 Mark Freeman, who had caught the line 
 Gave aid to all with arm and sign. 
 Till all were on the rescue boat, 
 That on the threatening sea did float 
 As swims the deer against the tide 
 With hound or wolf close at its side, 
 Mark Freeman saw his father stand 
 Upon the deck with directing hand 
 Commanding him to pull the oar 
 And put out for the distant shore. 
 
 The son obeyed the hoary sire, 
 
But cast one look ('t was his desire) 
 Upon his father, who now stood 
 The stateliest of a stately wood. 
 Mark Freeman dropped a loving tear, 
 And sighed to think that one so dear 
 Must be the last to get his aid. 
 
 'T was all ; no longer he delayed 
 But drew the anchor from the deep. 
 Then plied the oars with mighty sweep, 
 Till safely, bravely, they did reach 
 The anxious, welcome, rocky beach, 
 Where all, save Freeman and the maid, 
 Alighted on the sounding shore, 
 Where father, mother, children paid 
 The loving rites of love once more. 
 
 Once more they ploughed the watery main. 
 
And reached the vessel's side again, 
 Where twenty-three weak sailors clung 
 Upon the ropes the wind now flung 
 Across the ship, from side to side, 
 Again the sailors stemm'd the tide 
 And gained the boat, where Christabel, 
 A holy figure, baffled hell 
 By aiding all. The weakened crew 
 Had all now left the ship, save two : 
 Mark Freeman's father and the mate 
 Were left alone; they choosed to wait, 
 For only twenty three could ride 
 In safety o'er the threatening tide. 
 
 Mark Freeman saw, and in his heart 
 Despair shot many a stinging dart ; 
 For well he knew that human strength, 
 
However strong, must fall at length, 
 That if he braved the w^ves again 
 His failing strength must prove in vain. 
 So driven by despair he raised 
 His voice above the shrieking storm; 
 "O father! father' save, O save, 
 Th)^ body from a vs^atery grave 
 While yet the voice of Hope doth tell 
 That you may conquer yet o'er hell! 
 O father! since both you and I 
 Are doom'd by God one day to die 
 Let me, (who sees no hope to live 
 If thou tonight thy dying breath must give) 
 This woeful night sink 'neath the wave, 
 There to possess an untimely grave, 
 O let me stand where thou dost stand, 
 
And change they Death-hued place with mine!' 
 
 He ceased : the father waved his hand, 
 While with the other drew the line 
 Which Freeman held. Mark understood 
 And gave the sign to ride the flood. 
 His heart was far too full to weep, , 
 And mourned his father on the deep 
 As he would mourn the dead; and when 
 He backward glanced he thought again 
 How hard it was to know that one 
 So dear, a sire, must soon be gone. 
 
 The storm increased ; the dangers rose 
 Yet o'er the main each sailor rows 
 With strength redoubled, till the shore, 
 O welcome land! is gained once more. 
 Each grateful sailor then embraced 
 
Fair Christabel so lovely graced: 
 
 Each sailor shed a loving tear, 
 
 Or pressed the hand of Freeman near: 
 
 Those hearts that were made hard by the sea 
 
 Were full as soft as mother's be. 
 
 Mark Freeman turned and faced the storm, 
 While in his heart the blood throbs w^arm 
 With life and filial love. Each wave. 
 Gigantic, insurmountably grave, 
 A moment fill'd his heart with fear; 
 And made him know the hand of death was near. 
 
 He turned to Christabel, whose face 
 Told him she yet would keep her place 
 Beside him. In his arms her form 
 He gently took, while love beat warm. 
 They long embraced, then hand in hand 
 
Together left their native land, 
 
 Never, ' O never ! to return 
 
 Though aching hearts would for them yearn. 
 
 Fair Christabel, who knew that Death, 
 Already, claimed her maiden breath, 
 Turned and address'd her native shore 
 That she must see, O never more'- 
 
 "Fair shores of my beloved Maine 
 Which I must never see again, 
 To you I bade a long farewell, 
 A long farewell! a long farewell! 
 I leave a loving mother here 
 To mourn me, whom she loved so dear, 
 While a kind father, weary now, 
 Must soon wear Sorrow on his brow!" 
 Then turning seaward she address'd 
 
The cruel waves, in hunger dress'd: 
 "O mighty Sea, whom I now brave, 
 Give Mark and me one common grave, 
 And I shall sleep forever blest, 
 Tho thou above us both will rest!" 
 
 She said no more; but o'er the sea 
 With Mark she sped her dangerous way, 
 And soon the vessel, doom'd to die , 
 Loomed up before each hollow eye. 
 The captain threw the rescue line, 
 Then w^ith the mate leaped in the sea 
 Just as the ship, without a sign, 
 Plung'd 'neath the waves of Destiny. 
 Mark Freeman saw in wild despair 
 His one last hope prove light as air; 
 For then a wave ten fathoms high 
 
Hurled boat and all against the sky, 
 
 Crushing the shell. Mark's father and the mate 
 
 Hung on a passing spar; their fate 
 
 Was doubtful till another wave 
 
 Did snatch them from a watery grave 
 
 And hurled them both upon the shore 
 
 Where near and anxious friends once more 
 
 Embraced them to their loving breasts. 
 
 Thus was a wrecked and dying crew 
 Snatched from the angry deep by two, 
 A woman one, the other man. 
 And thus it ere must be ; for when 
 Brute force alone seeks to defy 
 The arm of Purity it must die. 
 
 Not so faired Freeman and his bride 
 Who dared with him to meet the tide 
 
Of storm and Death; a kindly wave i 
 
 Allowed to them a common grave ■ 
 
 Where folded to each other's breast \ 
 
 They sleep a sleep of endless rest, j 
 
 While close above them rolls the sea \ 
 
 Still moaning, claiming life, and free. ; 
 
 Go ye, O readers to the shore 
 
 Of sounding Maine where billows roar ; ^ 
 
 There (search persistent as you may \ 
 
 (From early morn till closing day) j 
 
 No stone doth mark the lowly bed, j 
 
 (The last memorial of our loving dead), ] 
 
 Where friends, who claimed Mark Freeman's tears, j 
 
 Have slept those last one hundred years ; ' 
 Nor e'en the loved of Christabel 
 
 Can claim a stone, by which to tell j 
 
 i 
 j 
 
The site of that colonial town 
 (Its name I know not) now sunk down 
 To dark, inanimated clay, 
 Which all are doom'd to be one day. 
 Yet seek and you will find a race 
 Of honest folks, whose beaming faces 
 Reveal that they are happy, free, 
 And love to live beside the sea. 
 Those folks, with joyfulness, will tell 
 The lovely tale of Christabel, 
 The maiden. They will praise 
 Her form in simple, rustic ways, 
 While joy and pride will in them dwell 
 When they repeat the name of Christabel, 
 Whose faithful, pure, enduring love did save 
 Their ancestorial fathers from a watery grave. 
 
SPRING'S REMEMBRANCE 
 
 I hear a song that breathes a woe 
 
 When I behold Spring's priceless art; 
 
 For it was then when long ago 
 M}^ fairy Bell and I did part. 
 
 How sweetly scented was the air, 
 How radiant was each flower 
 
 When my first love so pure and fair 
 Said that it was our parting hour. 
 
 And though our steps must nevermore 
 
 Lead onward side by side 
 The glow of Spring will bring back to me 
 
 The face of my unwedded bride. 
 
TO A SAILOR 
 
 If the stormy winds do blow, 
 
 Or the waves are rolling high, 
 
 Fear riot, sailor, for thy Captain true, 
 Will not let thee die. 
 
 When the clouds close overhead 
 
 Threaten thee with death and woe. 
 
 When the lightnings flash with dread 
 
 And the sea seems death below. 
 
 Fear not, for thy Captain true 
 Can the stormy sea command 
 
 And that which seemed death to you 
 Will reveal die land. 
 
 Then when all our toils are o'er, 
 When the port is gained at last 
 
 Can we praise the Leader's hand 
 That was true and fast. 
 
THE FIRST DAY 
 
 Dear little May, our only child, 
 
 Has started off to school today; ] 
 
 We feel as though our hearts would break j 
 
 Though why we cannot say. \ 
 
 "O mama, wont 'o tiss me now? 
 
 And papa, wont 'o say doodby?" 
 And then we kissed her cheek and brow 
 
 While tears, sweet tears, came to each eye. 
 
 Perhaps it was because we know 
 
 Some day that kiss and she will sever; 
 
 That though our hearts will break with woe 
 She'll leave our home to go forever. 
 
THE FARMER 
 
 Content and happy as he goes 
 
 Each- morning in his fields, 
 While all the world around him glows 
 
 And peace unto the farmer yields. 
 
 Let others ply their business care, 
 
 Or teach the school to guide our young 
 
 Thine is the lot that everywhere 
 Is happy as the robin's song. 
 
 His is the sweat of summer heat. 
 
 The burden of the winter snow ; 
 Yet I must call them holy feet 
 
 That tread where his shall go. 
 
 For in the sweat of honest toil, 
 
 The labor of the rolling sod 
 The lord of our Dakota soil 
 
 Knows that he is the blest of God. 
 
THE REASON 
 
 He was a bashful lover, Jim, 
 
 And of his sweetheart was afraid; 
 And though we oft encouraged him 
 
 He very little progress made. 
 
 Although it's very hard to tell, 
 
 The truth of all must soon be known ; 
 Instead of a happy wedding bell 
 
 He listens to his deep love groan. 
 
 III. 
 
 And now our Jim, too sad to smile, 
 
 Tells all how much his heart doth miss her. 
 Yet knows he lost her hand because 
 
 He didn't have the heart to kiss her. 
 
A DYING SON OF FRANCE 
 
 I die on Verdun's bloody field, away 
 
 From home and all that once I held so dear ; 
 
 Yet as I leave the world I bless the day 
 
 My mother bore me with a mother's fear, 
 
 For I have lived to hear my country's call, 
 
 And dying lie vy^here I have longed to fall, 
 Fighting the foes of France. 
 
 My breath is growing shore: my wife and child 
 Will some day tend the soil where here I die; 
 
 Their tears they'll check, their hearts will not grow 
 wild 
 For I shall live though in the grave I lie. 
 
 For I have won my God, o'erpowered hell 
 
 And gained eternal glory when I fell 
 Fighting the foes of France. 
 
THE LOVERS 
 
 Behold them as they shyly pass 
 
 Along the crowded street, 
 A lover and his bonnie lass 
 
 Who friends will scarcely greet. 
 
 O how the moments glide away, 
 What joy is not their own! 
 
 But oh ! too soon this joyous day 
 Will be forever gone. 
 
 For time will bring it's load of care, 
 And grief their souls will try. 
 
 And beauty's early bloom so fair, 
 Will lose its charms and die. 
 
 Yet love will perish not, but raise 
 
 The head with grief droop'd low ; 
 
 For then their hearts will feel and praise 
 The love they did not know. 
 
THOUGHTS 
 
 Though wind and northern blizzard blow 
 
 Across this great Dakota plain; 
 Though all the earth is cloth'd with snow 
 
 We know that spring will come again. 
 
 Then sweeter will the robin tell 
 
 Of all the joys that nature knows, 
 
 And lovelier will seem each dell, 
 
 And merrier each stream that flows. 
 
 Just so it is with life; we oft complain 
 Of trials and burdens we must bear 
 
 And little think that what is pain 
 Today tomorrow will seem fair. 
 
 That all our crosses were but means 
 
 By which our souls were purer made; 
 
 That, though we knew not what they meant. 
 
 They brought salvation for which we prayed. 
 
THEIR CONVERSATION 
 
 "On what did you and Charlie talk?" 
 The mother asked her daughter coy. 
 
 'Tm sure you must have learned a deal 
 We others might perhaps enjoy." 
 
 The daughter shyly hung her head, 
 But finally this answer made: 
 
 "We talked of kith and kin long dead, 
 And homage to their memory paid." 
 
 The mother shook her head ; she knew 
 Full well it could not be, 
 
 'Less girls had changed a great deal since 
 She was a maiden young and free. 
 
 "O ma, it's true," chirped little Johnnie, 
 
 As innocent he entered in; 
 "I heard him ask, 'give me a kith'. 
 And sissy answer, 'yeth you kin'." 
 
DREAMING 
 
 Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, 
 
 Dreaming all the day. 
 And I know that I'll die dreaming 
 
 Dreaming my life away. 
 
 Rain or sunshine, snow or fair, 
 
 Winter days or June, 
 Still you'll find me dreaming. 
 
 Early morn or noon. 
 
 Though I know that dreaming 
 
 Is for night alone. 
 Still I must be dreaming 
 
 Dreams that are my own. 
 
 All great men have once been dreamers, 
 Men of wealth and fame. 
 
 So I know that dreaming robs not 
 Lustre from a name. 
 
 Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming. 
 Dreaming night and day. 
 
 And I know that I'll die dreaming. 
 Dreaming my life away. 
 
SLEEP AND DEATH 
 
 The shadows fall, the shadows fall, 
 
 The happy day is o'er, 
 While nightly darkness covers all 
 
 And bids us toil no more. 
 
 With mind content I take my rest, 
 
 Glad that the day is done ; 
 For I have toiled and did my best 
 
 From morn till setting sun. 
 
 With trust that happy dreams I'll dream 
 
 And find repose in sleep 
 I close my eyes, and soon I am 
 
 Lock'd fast in slumber deep. 
 
 God grant my dying breath may bring 
 
 Such peace of mind to me 
 As I have found at each day's close, 
 
 O happy sleep, in thee. 
 
THE ETERNAL 
 
 I little knew when first we met 
 What love I bore to thee, 
 
 What joys my fancy would beget, 
 
 What thoughts would come to me. 
 
 But I have learned to love thee, dear, 
 As love ne'er loved before: 
 
 I fancy in the air I hear 
 
 The voice I do adore. 
 
 From early morn till closing day 
 
 Thy form is with me still ; 
 For fancy, building not with clay, 
 
 Is moulder of my will. 
 
 Though sun and stars and moon may fade 
 
 And life be full of woe. 
 My love for thee will ne'er grow cold 
 
 But fair and sweeter grow. 
 
Sonnet No. 1, 'To A Rose" 
 
 Thou tender, smiling, loving, Nature's flower, 
 
 How like a blessed angel's wing you shine 
 
 With silent beauty, that is ever thine, 
 
 And love, that reigns above all earthly power. 
 
 No woes have made thy life a moment sour, 
 
 No hand has wronged thy spirit so divine. 
 
 No grief has pierced the bosom of your shrine. 
 
 For thou hast never known an evil hour, 
 
 Oh that my life could be as gay, , 
 
 As free from sin and all its evil gains; 
 
 But lo- alas! no kind or welcome ray , 
 
 Does greet my poor and yearning soul in chains; 
 
 For God has hidden from my eyes the day 
 
 When I shall stand upon more holy plains. 
 
Sonnet No. 2, "Youth" 
 
 O morning star of life, thy song is sweet 
 
 To all who may possess thy name so free, 
 
 Or to the one in years who thinks on thee 
 
 And remembers how thy smile he oft did greet. 
 
 O leave to Age his care; but joy is thine. 
 
 Thrice blessed by Heaven's Hand. Thy liberty 
 
 Has dwelt with all by God's most just decree, 
 
 Untouched, unharmed, by Sorrow's mournful line. 
 
 But lo! thou too must from our side depart 
 
 Thy throne to be usurped by Grief and Care, 
 
 And all the glory of our youthly heart 
 
 Shall die as do the summer flowers fair; 
 
 For purest things must fall before 
 
 The fleeted flight of T-ime, to rise no more. 
 
Sonnet No. 3, ''The Inevitable" 
 
 Dark Death's insensible and dreaded fold 
 
 Of countless numbers shall enwrap me o'er; 
 
 The sody soil shall be my resting floor 
 
 Where worms and slimy things shall pierce my 
 
 mould 
 No more shall then my sightless eye behold 
 The form of man upon this blessed shore : 
 My ears that were ope'd but a day before 
 Shall then be deaf beneath the earth so cold. 
 But sweet eternal Hope does speak to me, 
 My faith is made more firm, and I defy 
 The hand of Death, with all its agony, 
 To rob my soul from God when I do die ; 
 For Death can but reclaim our form in dust ; 
 The soul must go to God in Heaven's trust. 
 
Sonnet No. 4, "To A Child" 
 
 O what content, and peace, and joy is in that eye 
 That ne'er till now has viewed this world so fair; 
 The sparkling, wandering gaze in wanton air 
 Comes from a brain where trouble does not lie. 
 This world cannot its peace to him deny 
 As in the swaddling clothes he resteth there 
 Watched by his courteous mother's sweetest care, 
 Or fondly pressed by friends who press him by. 
 But ah! how soon that peace shall fade away, 
 And sweet Content may rarely with him live; 
 The kiss that friends did tenderly repay 
 May turn to frost, with naught but frost to give; 
 For on this earth the Judas kiss lives still 
 Which never shall but dire deceit fulfill. 
 
Sonnet No. 5, "On My Love" 
 
 Within my inner heart and soul she dwells 
 And doth illumine, with perpetual light, 
 The rays of love that burn both day and night, 
 That do lecali the mellow meads and dells, 
 Her smile so sweet, all happiness fortells, 
 Her form so debonair is Beauty might; 
 And in her eye. Love sparkles rays so bright 
 That she could conquer e'en a thousand hells. 
 O may she live fore'er as she doth now 
 And be the selfsame, blushing, girlish girl, 
 Unstamped by sordid Sin's dark, gloomy brow, 
 But blest by God with faith as firm as pearl; 
 May centuries with bliss her heart endow 
 And flags of beauty still to her unfurl. 
 
Sonnet, No. 10, "To Napoleon" 
 
 Napoleon ! what woes and griefs 5^ou bore 
 To grace the name of Freedom, I withhold 
 From public eyes. The t5^rant kings of old 
 Fell by they sword and fell forevermore, 
 Disgraced, dishonored, by the crimes they wore: 
 They tremble now, e'en in the earth so cold, 
 And pale to think upon thy heart so bold 
 That took thy name to an immortal shore. 
 Sleep on ! thou towering king of arms, thy name 
 Forever lives as Genuis' mighty son. 
 Who fought to save a nation fallen in blame. 
 Stir not, O son! but gently slumber on 
 While men accord thee as the highest in fame 
 Who gained that which no man before thee w^on ! 
 
Sonnet No. 11, ''To The Avon" 
 
 O fairy river! from they mountain dales 
 Bring laurel leaves and verdant flov^ers bright 
 That have been washed in dew and morning light, 
 And breathed the soft air of heavenly vales, 
 Place on their lovely petals gentle sails 
 That they may reach the singer's grave, alight 
 And deck the Poet in Death's dateless night, 
 Where time in vain the sleeping bard assails. 
 Flow gently, gentle Avon, by the feet 
 Of him who softly sleeping, silence keeps ; 
 Disturb him not, but with soft kisses greet 
 His charmed, closed lips, which Time with silence 
 
 steeps 
 Awake him not, but let him slumber on 
 Till from this earth all praising men be gone.