'Mf^y^' . 
 
RANDOM RIMES, 
 
RANDOM RIMES, 
 
 MEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 BY 
 
 N. W. AND J. P. RAND. 
 
 BOSTON: ^ \ ^ ^-^^ 
 
 OTIS CLAPP & SON. 
 
 1897. 
 

 Copyright 1897. 
 By N. W. and J. P. Rand. 
 
 
 PRESS OF OLIVER B. WOOD, 
 WORCESTER, MASS. 
 
THE verses of this little book lay no claim to 
 literary merit. They have been written from 
 time to time simply as a diversion from exacting 
 professional duties, and are now presented at the 
 request of friends who have shown a kindly inter- 
 est in them. That they may be found true to na- 
 ture and the varied e:^periences of our common 
 life is the hope of 
 
 THE AUTHORS. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Small Capitals are here used to designate the productions 
 of N. W. R., while those of J. P. R. are indicated by Italics. 
 
 PART I. — OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 
 
 Page 
 
 I. The Cycler's Song, 3 
 
 II. Our Faith, 8 
 
 III. The Homoeopath, 14 
 
 IV. Ode, 17 
 
 V. Maud Muller (Medicated), .... 19 
 
 VI. Mother's Baby, 28 
 
 VII. Lines to a Microbe, 36 
 
 VIII. The Dessert, 42 
 
 IX. Nostalgia, 47 
 
XU CONTENTS. 
 
 Pagk 
 
 X. Sons of Hahnemann, 49 
 
 XI. Our Banner, 61 
 
 XII. Our Native State, 63 
 
 XIII. (9^^(toN. H.), 67 
 
 XIV. An Interlude 69 
 
 XV. Pat's Phii^osophy, 80 
 
 XVI. The Old Bach, 83 
 
 XVII. The Sekrit uv Sukces, 86 
 
 XVIII. Cleopatra's Needle, 89 
 
 XIX. The Penny-post, 92 
 
 XX. BEIvSHAZZAR, 94 
 
 PART II. — GLEANED FROM NATURE. 
 
 I. Our World, 99 
 
 II. March, loi 
 
 III. Maying, 103 
 
 IV. A Merry-go-round, 107 
 
 V. At Eventide, ijo 
 
 VI. The Granite Hii,i,s, 112 
 
CONTENTS. Xlll 
 
 Page 
 VII. A Retrospect of the Rocky Moun- 
 tains, ii8 
 
 VIII. C1.EMAT1S, 120 
 
 IX. The Mapi,e, 122 
 
 X. To A Wounded Thrush, .... 124 
 
 XI. Fai.i,ing IvEaves, 126 
 
 XII. Hazei. B1.00M, 128 
 
 XIII. Harvest Hymn, 130 
 
 XIV. December, 132 
 
 XV. Life is a Sky, 136 
 
 XVI. Music, 138 
 
 XVII. The Fire King, 142 
 
 PART III. — MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 
 
 I. In Mystery, 147 
 
 II. The Honest Man, 149 
 
 HI. Just One, 151 
 
 IV. Serenade, 154 
 
 V. His First Pair, 156 
 
xiv , CONTENTS., 
 
 Page 
 
 VI. Our Birthday, 158 
 
 VII. For a Goi^den Wedding, .... 160 
 
 VIII. A Fiftieth Anniversary, . . . 162 
 
 IX. To Whittier, 164 
 
 X. Music, 165 
 
 XI. Forgiveness, 166 
 
 XII. Grandeur, 168 
 
 XIII. Thanksgiving, 170 
 
 XIV. At Bethlehem, 172 
 
 XV. An Baster Thought, . . . . . 175 
 
 XVI. Liberty, 177 
 
 XVII. Decoration Day, 179 
 
 XVIII. Adoration, 181 
 
 XIX. A Tribute, 188 
 
 XX. Friendship, 190 
 
 XXI. A Sainted Mother, 192 
 
 XXII. In Memoriam, 194 
 
 XXIII. My Beautiful Dead, 197 
 
 XXIV. Gethseniane, 199 
 
 XXV. Sleep, 201 
 
CONTENTS. XV 
 
 Page 
 
 XXVI. Under the Snow, 203 
 
 XXVII. RewEF, 205 
 
 XXVIII. The City of Peace, 209 
 
PART I. 
 
 OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 
 
Occasional and Fragmentary. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE CYCIvER'S SONG. 
 
 \17HEN the world is dark about you 
 
 And your boon companions doubt you, 
 When your sweetheart seems without you 
 Quite 
 
 as well 
 
 to feel ; 
 Do not fly to pew or pastor ; 
 Do not trust to pill or plaster ; 
 What will save you from disaster 
 Is 
 a fly- 
 ing wheel. 
 
 When your throbbing temples quiver, 
 When your bones with ague shiver. 
 
RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 And the bile within your liver 
 Threat- 
 ens to 
 
 congeal ; 
 What will give exhilaration, 
 Quicken up the circulation, 
 End your stupor and stagnation 
 Ivike 
 
 a mag- 
 ic wheel ? 
 
 When your brain is dazed with thinking 
 And your muscles soft are shrinking 
 Till your very soul seems sinking, 
 As 
 
 you home- 
 ward reel ; 
 What will make you strong as iron, 
 Brighter than the famed Orion, 
 Give you courage of a lion 
 I.ike 
 
 a dash- 
 ing wheel ? 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 
 
 When your pulse is weak and thready, 
 When your breathing is unsteady, 
 And your stomach never ready 
 To 
 
 digest 
 
 a meal ; 
 What will end the enervation. 
 Re-establish respiration, 
 And assist assimilation 
 Like 
 
 the health- 
 ful wheel? 
 
 When you magnify your losses. 
 Petty sHghts and countless crosses. 
 When the knave your name endorses 
 Makes 
 
 a stu- 
 pid deal ; 
 Be not hopeless, unbelieving. 
 Fortune is not past retrieving. 
 There are chances for achieving, — 
 Learn 
 
 to ride 
 
 a wheel. 
 
RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 Oh ! who is worthier a crown 
 Of riches, honor and renown, 
 Than he who taught us care to drown 
 And ev- 
 ery sor- 
 row heal,- 
 Who taught us how to Hghtly spring 
 lyike gladsome bird upon the wing 
 And guide that airy, fairy thing — 
 A pal- 
 pita- 
 ting wheel, — 
 
 To breathe the air of morning bright, 
 To revel in its dewy light, 
 And reverently before the might 
 Of God's 
 
 crea- 
 tion kneel, 
 Or when the evening twilight glows 
 To quit the haunts of countless foes 
 And earn a blissful night's repOvSe 
 By ram- 
 bling on 
 
 a wheel? 
 
OCCASIONAI, AND FRAGMKNTARY. 
 
 How silently we glide along, 
 A whirl, a flash, and we are gone, 
 I/ike Hermes with winged sandals on 
 Jove's man- 
 dates to 
 
 reveal ! 
 See ! See ! The trees with flying feet 
 Rush madly by us as we meet, 
 While far behind the winds so fleet 
 In vain 
 
 pursue 
 
 our wheel ! 
 
 Then ho ! my boys, to care good-by, 
 From toil and trouble let us fly. 
 And find beneath the boundless sky 
 What hu- 
 man haunts 
 
 conceal ; 
 Come, all who pine for safe retreat 
 From stifled store and crowded street. 
 Behold this paragon complete — 
 The soul- 
 inspir- 
 ing wheel ! 
 
 October 26, 1894. 
 
RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 II. 
 
 OUR FAITH. 
 
 Read at the annual dinner of the Homoeopathic 
 Medical Society of Western Massachusetts, Spring- 
 field, March 20, 1895. 
 
 A S comrades of a scattered band 
 ''*• At war against disease and death, 
 We meet to grasp the friendly hand 
 And reaffirm our common faith. 
 
 We reaffirm, but not abuse. 
 
 The sacred rights for which we stand — 
 The right to take, the right to use. 
 
 The best our wisdom can command. 
 
 We bow unto no man the knee ; 
 
 We brook no ancient, iron creed ; 
 Our attitude is — lyoyalty 
 
 To Truth wherever she may lead. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 
 
 Whate'er of worth the fathers wrought 
 We humbly, gratefully confess ; 
 
 Nor prize we less the latest thought 
 That comes humanity to bless. 
 
 We honor age, we honor youth, 
 We honor every class, or clan. 
 
 That bravely battles for the truth 
 And for the betterment of man. 
 
 Nor care we what the means, or whence, 
 In which restoring power we find — 
 
 From matter, or the more intense 
 And subtle potencies of mind, — 
 
 From earth, or air, or sun, or seas. 
 
 Or from the lightning's lurid breath, — 
 
 We care not, so they heal disease 
 And stay the awful hand of death. 
 
 If this be * ' dogmatism blind, ' ' 
 With dear old Whittier we say : 
 
 Pray for us, that our feet may find 
 Some broader, safer, surer way." 
 
lO RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Albeit this our faith holds fast — 
 The kindlier method, known as ours, 
 
 Above the crudeness of the past, 
 Like Calvary over Sinai towers ! 
 
 The long- used lancet lies at rest ; 
 
 The leech bides in its native flood ; 
 And ne'er again, at man's behest. 
 
 Shall they regale on human blood. 
 
 The cruel thirst of time ago 
 
 Is lost in crystal waters quaffed ; 
 
 For Hahnemann has lived — and lo ! 
 The fevered lip hath cooling draught ! 
 
 All honor to that gracious name ! 
 
 Nail it aloft before our sight, 
 Among the noblest sons of fame, 
 
 In characters of living light ! 
 
 But Heaven forbid that we should boast 
 Over our bit of knowledge gained. 
 
 It seems so swallowed up and lost 
 Beside the boundless unattained. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. II 
 
 The unattained ! Stupendous word ! 
 
 What visions in its face we see ! 
 And in its syllables are heard 
 
 What whisperings from futurity ! 
 
 It points us to a golden day, 
 
 Wherein man shall so comprehend 
 
 Great Nature's laws — and so obey, 
 That all disease shall have an end ; 
 
 A day when gladness grief shall drown, 
 
 And dirge to delectation rise. 
 And Prophylaxis win the crown 
 
 From Therapeutics' envious eyes ; 
 
 A day when time, exempt from fears, 
 Shall sit so lightly on the brow 
 
 That man shall round an hundred years 
 As gracefully as sixty now. 
 
 Perchance he may on earth remain 
 So long as he shall choose to stay, 
 
 Then take some through, aerial train, 
 And, like Elijah, whirl away ! 
 
12 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Indeed we cannot apprehend 
 The wonders we may yet behold, 
 
 When blood of horse and man shall blend 
 As in the centaurs, famed of old ; 
 
 When wicked germs no more shall dare 
 
 To stifle babies at the breast, 
 And all the microbes of the air 
 
 Have been forever laid at rest ; 
 
 When people, of whatever "school," 
 Shall cease to ' * dose ' ' — if cease they can,- 
 
 And learn that Nature, as a rule, 
 If not abused is true to man. 
 
 'Tis coming ! Yes, we dare to hope. 
 Though doubt doth every point beset, 
 
 The culture tube and microscope 
 Will solve the mighty problem yet. 
 
 'Tis coming — the protecting light 
 Of higher knowledge yet to be — 
 
 As sure as stars come out at night, 
 Or rivers reach the roaring sea. 
 
OCCASIONAIv AND FRAGMENTARY. 1 3 
 
 'Tis coming ! Expectation thrills 
 At thought of triumphs pressing on ! 
 
 See ! Even now the eastern hills 
 Are bannered with the flags of dawn ! 
 
14 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE HOMCEOPATH. 
 
 From class poem, New York Homoeopathic Med- 
 ical College, March 14, 1883. 
 
 TVIOT a quack, nor a pretender, 
 *■ Not a patent nostrum vender, 
 Not of dogmas a defender 
 
 Is the Homceopath. 
 
 But a man who takes and uses 
 Any drug and dose he chooses. 
 Nor his title thus abuses 
 
 Of a Homoeopath. 
 
 All this bitter jar and jangle, 
 All this rivalry and wrangle 
 Does not in the least entangle 
 
 The genial Homoeopath. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 1 5 
 
 If a troubled brother needs him, 
 With a ready hand he heeds him, 
 Thus his code of duty leads him 
 As a Homoeopath. 
 
 And if some despise, refuse him, 
 Ridicule him and abuse him, 
 'Tis for them to mourn who lose him, 
 Not the Homoeopath. 
 
 As the fearless roving tar, 
 Guided by a constant star. 
 Gains the haven sought afar, 
 
 So the Homoeopath. 
 
 Not empirically shifting 
 To each transient wave's uplifting, 
 Nor with aimless breezes drifting 
 Is the Homoeopath ; 
 
 But his course is onward ever. 
 Winds and weaves disturb him never, 
 Storms but strengthen the endeavor 
 Of the Homoeopath. 
 
1 6 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Anything to cure disease, 
 I^et it come from land or seas, 
 Is a Godsend that will please 
 
 Every Homoeopath. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMKNTARY. 1 7 
 
 IV. 
 
 ODE. 
 
 Sung at the banquet of the New York HomcEop- 
 athic Medical College Alumni Association, New 
 York, May 2, 1895. 
 
 r^ RKAT Hahnemann of thee 
 ^^ And Homoeopathy 
 
 To-day we sing ! 
 Thou, whose colossal mind 
 Brought law from chaos blind, 
 To thee let all mankind 
 
 A tribute bring ! 
 
 The nations look to thee, 
 Blest Homoeopathy, 
 For glad relief — 
 They wait with out-stretched palms 
 
1 8 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 Thine all-restoring balms 
 To still the dread alarms 
 Of pain and grief. 
 
 Let all that breathe proclaim 
 And magnify the name 
 
 We laud to-day ! 
 L<et jealous rivals quake, 
 Their gibes and jeers forsake, 
 While grateful millions wake 
 
 The gladsome lay. 
 
 Great Master, now to thee 
 And Homoeopathy 
 
 Again we sing ! 
 lyong may our homes be bright, 
 With truth's protecting might, 
 And health and sweet delight 
 
 Its teachings bring ! 
 
OCCASIONAL, AND FRAGMKNTARY. 1 9 
 
 V. 
 
 MAUD MUIvLER (MEDICATED). 
 
 (With due apologies to J. G. W.) 
 
 Presented at the dinner of the Worcester Homoeop- 
 athic Dispensary Association, May 18, 1894. 
 
 A RUSTIC youth one summer day 
 ^~^ Was hoeing corn by the dusty way. 
 
 His dreamy, schemeful brain was rife 
 With countless plans for an easy life. 
 
 Slowly he worked as though he meant 
 To take his leisure as he went ; 
 
 And when he dreamed in a pensive way 
 Of pleasures that in cities lay, 
 
 His muscles shrunk in their zeal for rest, 
 And a nameless en?iut filled his breast — 
 
20 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 A longing, many a man has known, 
 For an easier lot to call his own. 
 
 A city doctor drove that way 
 
 With a dashing span and a rich coupe. 
 
 He drew a halt, when he saw the lad, — 
 In a patronizing way he had — 
 
 And asked for a spray of the iris blue 
 Which just across the meadow grew. 
 
 The flattered youngster hied away 
 
 And soon came back wath a big bouquet ; 
 
 Nor recked he of his father's frown 
 For trampling half the meadow down. 
 
 " Thanks, thanks," the doctor made reply, 
 "You 've brought me here a year's supply. 
 
 * ' How little you the value know 
 Of plants that all around you grow ! 
 
 ' ' The ivy clinging to the trees ; 
 The clover kissed by honey bees ; 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 21 
 
 ' ' The saffron growing by the mill ; 
 The laurel blooming on the hill ; 
 
 ' ' The dandelions at your feet ; 
 The buttercups, and bittersweet ; 
 
 ' ' The Indian hemp ; the black snake root ; 
 The garget with its crimson fruit ; 
 
 "The foxglove ; golden seal, and rue ; 
 The gentian with its blossoms blue ; 
 
 ' ' The sumac, and the willow trees ; 
 The hemlock drunk by Socrates ; 
 
 ' ' The pink root, and the pigeon wheat ; 
 The leeks and onions that you eat ; 
 
 ' ' The club moss, and Saint John's- wort bright ; 
 The cactus blooming in the night ; 
 
 "The boneset, and the yellow dock ; 
 The graceful fern with slender stalk ; 
 
 "The bloodroot, and the poppy bold ; 
 The mullein, and the marigold ; 
 
22 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 * * The clematis with trailing vine ; 
 The golden-blossomed jessamine ; 
 
 ' * The skull-cap, and the cedar tree ; 
 The nettle, and anemone ; 
 
 ' ' The purple meadow queen so tall ; 
 And hazel blooming last of all. 
 
 * * A thousand things your e3^es discern — 
 You should, my lad, their uses learn." 
 
 And the boy forgot his palm-leaf hat 
 In listening to the doctor's chat ; 
 
 And felt his soul expand and rise 
 At the wonders opening to his eyes. 
 
 At last, like one who fain would stay, 
 The hurried doctor drove away. 
 
 And the foolish youngster sighed, " Ah, me ! 
 That I a doctor, too, might be ! 
 
 " I 'd fix myself up mighty fine ; 
 I 'd smoke cigars and sip my wine ; 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 23 
 
 '* I 'd keep my fingers out of dirt 
 And wear a diamond in my shirt ; 
 
 ' ' My driver should dress in the grandest style 
 With a bearskin cape and a beaver tile ; 
 
 * ' The office boy should know his place 
 And wait my call with modest grace ; 
 
 " My wife should have the choicest fruit, 
 And the baby wear a ' Gertrude suit ; ' 
 
 "I'd bleed the rich ; I'd feed the poor ; 
 (And both'd be better off I'm sure.") 
 
 The doctor turned as he climbed the hill 
 And saw the youngster standing still : 
 
 ' * A better, heartier physique 
 It were a vain attempt to seek ; 
 
 ' ' And everything about him there 
 Is absolutely free from care. 
 
 "Would I were he, instead, to-day, 
 Of slaving round in fashion's way. 
 
24 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 ' ' No listening to the hearts and lungs 
 Of spleeny dames with endless tongues ; 
 
 "But driving home the dreamy cows, 
 Or hunting hens' nests on the mows." 
 
 But he thought how the boys at the club would 
 
 stare 
 To see the hayseed in his hair ; 
 
 So he turned his head and drove along 
 And soon was lost in the distant throng. 
 
 But his patients smiled in a curious way 
 When he talked of nothing but farms next day. 
 
 And the lad stood dreaming on his hoe 
 Until it was time for the cows to go. 
 
 The doctor's clientele were those 
 
 Who judge of worth by style and clothes. 
 
 Yet often when his gorgeous suite 
 Was filled with the so-called elite. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 25 
 
 And he had listened to the string 
 Of petty ailments they would bring, 
 
 He'd language use I may not tell — 
 And wish them every one in — health. 
 
 Or when upon some luckless day 
 He'd done a laparotomy, 
 
 And just as he was through, perhaps, 
 Off went the patient in collapse ; 
 
 Or when at night he had undressed 
 To seek his couch for needed rest, 
 
 And hardly closed his eyes, to hear 
 The night bell clanging in his ear ; 
 
 He 'd quite forget his certain fee 
 And sigh, " O would that I were free! 
 
 ' ' Free as the lad, I met one day, 
 Hoeing corn by the dusty way. ' ' 
 
 And the boy grew up like a love-sick swain 
 With an aching heart and a blighted brain. 
 
26 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 He did his work in a listless style, 
 
 As though it were hardly worth the while ; 
 
 And oft when the summer sun was hot 
 
 He would wipe his brow and bemoan his lot ; 
 
 And think of the doctor that passed one day 
 With his dashing span and his rich coupe \ 
 
 And see again the iris blue, 
 
 And a host of phantom plants review ; 
 
 And think of the pains he might have relieved, 
 And the countless gains he might have received, 
 
 Till his laggard hoe to a lancet turned ; 
 And the tasseled corn like gas lights burned ; 
 
 And his dump-cart shone in their lurid blaze ; 
 And his oxen pranced like the doctor's bays ; 
 
 And himself a notable man he saw, 
 Whose look was wisdom and whose word was 
 law. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 27 
 
 Then he turned with a start to his hoe again 
 And sadly murmured, '* It might have been." 
 
 Alas, for doctor and foolish boy — 
 For empty pomp and dull employ ! 
 
 God pity them both, and pity us too 
 When we pine for a work we never can do ; 
 
 For of all the hardships under the sun, 
 Each thinks his own is the hardest one ; 
 
 And in every closet beneath the skies 
 Is a skeleton hid from human eyes. 
 
 Oh ! who would envy his neighbors, pray. 
 If the masks were snatched from their souls 
 away ? 
 
28 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 VI 
 
 MOTHER'S BABY. 
 
 Response at the annual dinner of the Worcester 
 County Homceopathic Medical Society, November 
 9, 1892. 
 
 T^HE baby ! Bless his little soul— 
 ■^ We all have babies been — 
 'Tis he alone who gains control 
 Of house and all within. 
 No tyrant king with golden crown 
 Could so despotic be ; 
 No monarch pass his sceptre down 
 So certainly as he. 
 And yet such evanescent reign 
 Cannot be wholly bliss ; 
 Which one of us would not complain 
 To be a king like this ? 
 Who would exchange his frosty pate 
 
OCCASIONAI. AND FRAGMKNTARY. 29 
 
 And eyes with vision dim, 
 
 And teeth, all fastened to a plate, 
 
 And withered brow and limb, 
 
 And through the corridors of time 
 
 Be carried back to-day 
 
 And start again life's steps to climb 
 
 In nature's homely way? 
 
 To be a babe, poor, helpless, dumb — 
 
 Its trials now appear ; 
 
 How few by invitation come 
 
 To homes that wait them here ! 
 
 What wonder that they always cry 
 
 In uttermost despair ? 
 
 They know, alas ! they know them nigh, — 
 
 The tortures they must bear. 
 
 For granny's spirit fairly glows 
 
 With ardor to display 
 
 The endless round of things she knows. 
 
 Or has known, in her day ; 
 
 And ere he is an hour old 
 
 His little mouth she fills 
 
 With all the messes it will hold, 
 
 To antedate his ills. 
 
30 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Perhaps the one who gave him birth 
 
 His birthright may deny, 
 
 And bid those fonts of priceless worth 
 
 That flow for him, be dry. 
 
 O mothers, who refuse to give 
 
 Your helpless babes their due, 
 
 'Tis only just that you should live 
 
 To be neglected too ! 
 
 Oh ! who would be a babe, I pray, 
 
 In helplessness to lie. 
 
 The merest waif on fortune's way 
 
 Nor ken the reason why ? 
 
 Perchance of all the things he sees 
 
 Around on every side, 
 
 He's given what the least would please, 
 
 And what would most, denied ; 
 
 He 's trotted when he wants to rest. 
 
 And rested when he 'd trot ; 
 
 When shivering with cold, undressed, 
 
 And bundled up when hot ; 
 
 He 's fed until he overflows 
 
 And, when he cries with pain, 
 
 At once the ready mixture goes 
 
OCCASIONAI. AND FRAGMENTARY. 3 1 
 
 Into his mouth again. 
 
 And when he really cries for food, 
 
 No one his call can tell, 
 
 He 's ill, the stupid parents think, 
 
 And must be dosed a spell ; 
 
 So down the soothing S3^rup goes. 
 
 Or soporific pill ; 
 
 How many babes — God only knows — 
 
 Are sleeping from them still ! 
 
 It makes me shudder to behold 
 
 The nursing tubes we see, 
 
 Whose use, for reasons manifold, 
 
 Prohibited should be ; 
 
 And patent foods of countless make, 
 
 And sterilizers new. 
 
 And artful schemes that undertake 
 
 Maternal work to do. 
 
 And so the mother gads about 
 
 In fashion's giddy ways. 
 
 And trusts her babe, when she is out, 
 
 To Bridget, now-a-days. 
 
 Oh ! who would be a babe, I pra}^ 
 
32 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 To cut his teeth again, 
 
 And fret and drool and spew away, 
 
 As all of us did then? 
 
 Oh ! who can shake the horrors off. 
 
 Which still in memory run, 
 
 Of measles, mumps, and whooping-cough, 
 
 That took us, one by one? 
 
 And chicken-pox that left its pits 
 
 Where'er its pustules spread, 
 
 And stomach- worms that gave us fits, 
 
 And scarlet- fever dread? 
 
 Oh ! who would be a babe, I pray, 
 
 If for no cause but this — 
 
 To be a target in the wa}^ 
 
 For every one to kiss? — 
 
 For spinsters who have not been kissed 
 
 Since they themselves were small, 
 
 For filthy feeders who subsist 
 
 On onions, tops and all. 
 
 For faces scarred with every form 
 
 Of loathsome skin disease, 
 
 For breaths in which bacilli swarm 
 
 Like maggots in a cheese, 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 33 
 
 For lips befouled b}^ vile cigars, 
 
 For bearded faces rough, 
 
 For beldams rank with old catarrhs 
 
 And nostrils filled with snuff ? 
 
 Here shrivelled cheeks and toothless gtims 
 
 Would fain their lives refresh, — 
 
 Like Shy lock, from each babe that comes, 
 
 They claim a ' ' pound of flesh. ' ' 
 
 O Portia, clad with sovereign grace. 
 
 Come with thy spirit, too. 
 
 And teach the greedy ones their place 
 
 And all to justice do. 
 
 In closing let us change the song 
 And touch a softer lay — 
 These little ones we plainly wrong, 
 What are they like, I pray ? 
 
 Richest blessing from above 
 
 Is this pledge of plighted love — 
 
 Precious baby ! 
 
 Like the curtains of the skies 
 Are his wonder- lighted eyes — 
 
 Blue-eyed baby ! 
 
34 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Like the shifting showers of May 
 Melt his gUstening tears away — 
 
 Changeful baby ! 
 
 Like the sunshine after rain 
 All his smiles return again — 
 
 Wondrous baby ! 
 
 Like the sweetest bud that blows 
 Is his little rounded nose — 
 
 Charming baby ! 
 
 Like the fragrant garden bloom 
 Is his breath in rich perfume — 
 
 Rarest baby ! 
 
 Like a berry from the south 
 Is his all-delicious mouth — 
 
 Luscious baby ! 
 
 Like a quintessential bliss 
 Is the honey of his kiss — 
 
 Sweetest baby ! 
 
 Like the pearls that lie beneath 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 35 
 
 Snowy billows are his teeth — 
 
 Priceless baby ! 
 
 Like the music of a bell 
 
 Do his peals of laughter swell — 
 
 Happy baby ! 
 
 Irike the eddies of a stream 
 
 All his rounded dimples gleam — 
 
 Sparkling baby ! 
 
 Like the moon's reflected light 
 Beam his silken tresses bright — 
 
 Beauteous baby ! 
 
 Like a fledgeling in its nest 
 Clings he to his mother's breast — 
 
 Loving bab}" ! 
 
 Like the Maker of us all 
 Is the little soul we call — 
 
 Mother's baby ! 
 
36 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 VII. 
 
 LINES TO A MICROBE. 
 
 Read at a banquet of the Rhode Island Homoeop- 
 athic Medical Society, Providence, Jan. lo, 1896. 
 
 C PEAK, and tell us, O Bacillus ! 
 
 ^ Wherefore, wherefore, do you fill us 
 
 With a terror that will kill us? 
 
 And we cannot make it go ; 
 
 For from fear of thee we falter 
 
 Like a trembling lamb at slaughter, 
 
 While the earth and air and water 
 
 All your hateful presence know. 
 
 What, O what was thy relation 
 
 To the world at its creation, 
 
 That in every tribe and nation 
 
 You are lurking for your prey ? 
 
 Were you with the race coeval? 
 
 Did you see the great upheaval 
 
 When the woman chose the evil 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 37 
 
 And the mischief was to pay? 
 
 Were you at that moment hidden 
 
 Safe within the fruit forbidden 
 
 That to death mankind you ' ve ridden 
 
 Since that fatal afternoon? 
 
 When the serpent's soft addresses 
 
 Won our mother's first caresses, 
 
 Did you know that your successes 
 
 Would become assured so soon ? 
 
 When with honeyed words he guyed her 
 
 And the tempting fruit supplied her, 
 
 How you packed your trunk inside her 
 
 For a never ending lease ! 
 
 And when Adam followed after, 
 
 Then you split your sides with laughter, 
 
 Wrote your wife, or telegraphed her. 
 
 We have got a ' flat ' apiece." 
 
 True it is, I now relate : 
 
 What determined Adam's fate 
 
 Was the germ by which of late 
 
 Koch the Ger(m)-man made repute ; 
 
 For it cannot be denied 
 
 ('Less you say the Scriptures lied), 
 
 Adam of consumption died. 
 
38 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Yes — consumption of the fruit. 
 And the cause of his disaster 
 Still increasing, fast and faster, 
 I/ives to-day a dreaded master 
 Ruling with a tyrant's sway ; 
 Still it steals away our pleasures, 
 Robs us of our choicest treasures 
 Till a tithe of all it measures 
 As its right, and lawful prey. 
 
 What, Bacillus, was the start 
 
 Of the antiseptic art? 
 
 Was it needful, or a part 
 
 Of the doctor's coup d'etat? 
 
 If one-half we hear about it 
 
 Now be true — and who can doubt it- 
 
 How could Eve have done without it 
 
 On her parturition day? 
 
 Was it lactopreparata 
 Fed to Cain that made him smarter 
 Than the sweet and gentle martyr 
 Who was reared in nature's way? 
 And because his food one night 
 
OCCASIONAI^ AND FRAGMENTARY. 39 
 
 Was not sterilized aright 
 
 Did the ptomaines make him fight 
 
 And his only brother slay? 
 
 What about the sanitation 
 In the ark, for all creation, 
 With no proper ventilation 
 That the sacred records show? 
 Why did not typhoid fever 
 Gain an entrance there and leave her 
 Deader than the rats beneath her, 
 ' Drowned rats ' ' of long ago ? 
 
 Mighty Naaman of old 
 Left his leprosy, we're told, 
 In the swells of Jordan cold 
 As its turbid waves rolled by ; 
 Left it, but he little knew 
 That his malady was due 
 To a parasite we view 
 With a microscopic eye. 
 
 And Gehazi did not see 
 When he stole the leper's fee 
 
40 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 That it should aseptic be 
 
 Ere he carried it away. 
 
 Had he done so, who can tell, 
 
 But the curse that on him fell, 
 
 Might have left him safe and well 
 
 Like the rascals of to-day? 
 
 But I have not time to tell 
 Half the germs that in us dwell ; 
 
 How we wish them all in well. 
 
 Where the wicked germs should be. 
 
 Micrococci round and small, 
 
 Rods which we bacilli call, 
 
 Vibriones one and all. 
 
 Spirilla, spirochaetse, 
 
 Cholera, pyaemia, 
 
 Anthrax, septicaemia, 
 
 Pediculi and taenia. 
 
 We do not want you round ! 
 
 Athrospore and endospore, 
 
 Sarcinae and protozoa. 
 
 Trichinae, hide yourselves no more ! 
 
 Hydatids, you are found ! 
 
 Leave at once and leave us wholly 
 
OCCASIONAIv AND FRAGMENTARY. 4 1 
 
 To ourselves amoeba coli, 
 We were not created solely 
 For a nesting place for thee ! 
 And each other plague the same, 
 Though we may not know your name, 
 Get you back from whence you came, 
 Let us suffering mortals be ! 
 
 Oh, how hopeless is the fight 
 With a viewless parasite ! 
 We may put a host to flight 
 On the tented field, 
 But when demons in the air. 
 Food we eat, and clothes we wear, 
 Prey upon us everywhere. 
 What can we but yield ? 
 
42 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 VIII. 
 THE DESSERT. 
 
 On presenting a bouquet to a medical friend, 
 March 17, 1890. 
 
 TN daj^s of old, 
 
 ^ As we are told, 
 The hero brave and true 
 
 Was decked in sheen 
 
 Of living green 
 In proof of honors due ; 
 
 And maidens fair 
 
 Entwined his hair 
 With garlands deftly made, 
 
 And king and queen 
 
 With gracious mien 
 Their royal homage paid. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMKNTARY. 43 
 
 But we, to-night, 
 
 Have naught to write 
 Of battles lost and won ; 
 
 We celebrate 
 
 Our native State, 
 And toast her worthy son. 
 
 'Tis well to praise 
 
 In rhythmic lays 
 The hero o'er and o'er 
 
 Who dares to fight 
 
 For home and right 
 And drench his hands in gore ; 
 
 But better far 
 
 Than war's hurrah 
 And cannon, smoke and blood. 
 
 Is skill to calm 
 
 A dread alarm 
 And staunch life's crimson flood. 
 
 'Tis surely more 
 To health restore. 
 Bring back a single one, 
 
44 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 Than win a fight 
 With dynamite, 
 Or man a murderous gun. 
 
 Nor has he less 
 
 Of manliness, 
 Courage and valor too. 
 
 Who hazards life 
 
 In daily strife 
 With death and dangers true, 
 
 Than he who bears 
 
 A flag — and wears 
 A uniform of blue, — 
 
 Who bears it high 
 
 With flashing eye 
 Relentless death to woo. 
 
 Then loud huzzas 
 
 For sons of Mars, 
 For every soldier brave. 
 
 But louder still 
 
 For him whose will 
 And mission is to save. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMKNTARY. 45 
 
 But, Doctor dear, 
 
 We are not here 
 To laud your craft or skill, 
 
 Though truly all 
 
 Within my call 
 Would do so with a will. 
 
 But, if you please, 
 
 For courtesies, 
 For kind and thoughtful aid. 
 
 And for your share 
 
 Of toil and care 
 And generous efforts made, 
 
 We wish to show 
 
 You that we know 
 And thank you for them all ; 
 
 In proof we bring 
 
 This offering, 
 Which, please accept, though small. 
 
 These leaves will fall, 
 These petals all 
 Will wither and decay, 
 
46 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 But time uor space 
 Can e'er efface 
 The message they convey. 
 
 No words can tell 
 
 Our thought so well, 
 No picture can portray, 
 
 E'en music sweet 
 
 Is not more meet 
 To voice the soul, than they. 
 
 They represent 
 
 The sentiment 
 We all would gladly pay — 
 
 Ay, more, — suggest 
 
 Our very' best 
 Regards for you to-day. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 47 
 
 IX. 
 
 NOSTALGIA. 
 
 (homesickness.) 
 
 r^ STRANGE, O most mysterious disease 
 ^-^ That lay est hold upon the heart of man , — 
 La Grippe of soul from Isles of Discontent, 
 For whose attacks there remedy is none ! 
 What scientist can trace thy secrets out, 
 Or grow thy germs within a culture tube ? 
 What microscope can magnify thy parts 
 To meet the feeble ken of mortal eye? 
 What tactile sense in cunning fingers hid 
 Can note the change a soul in grief may feel? 
 And yet in every clime thou dost appear 
 And like a fiend incarnate workest woe ! 
 At thy approach each vital function fails 
 And ills in countless number throng thy wake. 
 
48 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 Childhood recoils in tears at thy chill touch, 
 The mother-breast is filled with yearnings 
 
 strange, 
 The father-heart in silence suffers on, 
 While hoary age, aweary with the world, 
 lyocks upward to the land beyond the skies 
 And longs to find a rest — to be at home ! 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 49 
 
 X. 
 
 SONS OF HAHNEMANN. 
 
 Read at the annual dinner of the Worcester Coun- 
 ty Homoeopathic Medical Society, Worcester Mass., 
 November 8, 1893. 
 
 I. 
 
 T WISH I might bring you the song you in- 
 
 ■*■ vite, 
 
 But really don't see how I can ; 
 
 The fastidious muse 
 
 Is so sure to refuse 
 The suit of a medical man. 
 
 She likes men of leisure, of culture, and means, 
 The litterateurs and their clan ; 
 
 But her shoulders she shrugs 
 
 At the odor of drugs 
 That clings to the medical man. 
 
 4 
 
50 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 She dotes upon diadems, banners, and swords 
 A-gleam on the front of the van ; 
 
 But chill are the glances 
 
 She casts at the lances 
 And probes of the medical man. 
 
 She 's a lover of music in mountain, or sea, 
 Cathedral, or gilded divan ; 
 
 But she shrinks from the moanings 
 
 The shrieks, and the groanings, 
 That surge round the medical man. 
 
 For she loves only pleasure, and so has defied 
 The doctor her footsteps to lure; 
 
 He has nothing to share 
 
 But interminate care, 
 And his night- bell she 'd never endure. 
 
 ''But she smiled on a Holland, and Holmes," 
 
 do you say? 
 Well — now let me tell you, the fact is 
 
 She smiled upon neither, 
 
 Nor listened to either. 
 Till he'd said a good-bye to his practice. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 5 1 
 
 And since 't is her way to make such display 
 Of abhorrence for doctors about her, 
 
 Let us try for awhile 
 
 The chagrin to beguile, 
 And get on to-day, friends, without her. 
 
 II. 
 
 We are the sons of Hahnemann, 
 
 And of Hippocrates ; 
 
 We boast a royal heritage 
 
 Alike from both of these ; 
 
 We brook no limit to the means 
 
 We use to heal disease ; 
 
 For we are the sons of Hahnemann, 
 
 And of Hippocrates. 
 
 No grander line of heraldry 
 
 Was ever known to man ; 
 
 For with Apollo's noblest son 
 
 Our lineage began. 
 
 Apollo's son, 
 
 On Pelion, 
 
 In Chiron's mystic cave, 
 
 With all the gods in council met. 
 
52 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 And planned the art to save. 
 
 And since that glad auspicious day, 
 
 Physicians of renown 
 
 From age to age the priceless boon 
 
 To us have handed down. 
 
 Their deeds are written everywhere 
 
 The thought of man is rife — 
 
 In earth, in ocean, and in air. 
 
 And every form of life. 
 
 Our very frames, 
 
 With deathless names 
 
 On tablets fit, are stored. 
 
 From great Herophilus's press 
 
 Down to Achilles' cord. 
 
 We own them all, the glorious host, 
 
 Despite their schools and sects, — 
 
 Our Mortons, Harveys, Jenners, Kochs, 
 
 Our Listers and Laennecs ; 
 
 We rise above each petty feud 
 
 Our better natures ban, 
 
 And claim a royal brotherhood 
 
 With every worthy man. 
 
 To any one 
 
 Who well has done 
 
OCCASIONAI, AND FRAGMl^NTARY. 53 
 
 We '11 honor not refuse, 
 
 From Celsus down to Sydenham, 
 
 From Sydenham to Hughes. 
 
 And here we raise 
 
 A song of praise 
 
 To all who heal disease ; 
 
 For they are kin to Hahnemann, 
 
 And to Hippocrates. 
 
 Great Nature was their mother, 
 
 Their teacher, and their friend ; 
 
 And we upon no other 
 
 Authority depend. 
 
 Books writ by men 
 
 Of cunning pen 
 
 'Tis ours to compare 
 
 With her great book, and disregard 
 
 All found unwritten there. 
 
 It is ours to seek the relation 
 
 Of life to her changeless plan, 
 
 And apply the interpretation 
 
 Of her laws to the weal of man. 
 
 To ask of the winds of heaven : 
 
 * * What secrets have ye to tell 
 
54 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Of the climes of earth ye have traversed, 
 
 Of ocean, or mount, or dell, 
 
 Of forest, or fen, or fountain, 
 
 That can make our brothers well ? ' ' 
 
 To say to the rocks beneath us. 
 
 The sea, and the mountain ore : 
 
 ' * What treasures can ye bequeath us, 
 
 From your exhaustless store. 
 
 What mystical powers of matter, 
 
 O tell us, we implore. 
 
 That may bring a balm to sickness. 
 
 And strength to the weak restore ? ' ' 
 
 To question the herbs and grasses. 
 
 That in the mould have birth. 
 
 And the trees, and vines, and mosses 
 
 That drink of the milk of earth : 
 
 ''What anodynes, what tonics, 
 
 Have your alembics now 
 
 That may strength impart 
 
 To a fainting heart, 
 
 Or quiet a fevered brow ? ' ' 
 
 To call to the myriad creatures 
 
 That throng the land and sea, 
 
 And the very air above us : 
 
OCCASIONAI. AND FRAGMENTARY. 55 
 
 ' ' What medicines have ye 
 
 From the elements selected 
 
 That may of service be 
 
 In bringing relief 
 
 To the pain and grief 
 
 Of frail humanity ? ' ' 
 
 Then to the mind immortal 
 
 'Tis ours to make appeal, 
 
 That the touch of the spirit's sceptre 
 
 Defects of the flesh may heal : 
 
 "Ye forces within and around us, 
 
 Mysteriously given. 
 
 Intangible, invisible, 
 
 Invincible as Heaven, — 
 
 Say, what can ye do for a soul distraught, 
 
 For a system of nen^es unstrung. 
 
 For a heart oppressed, or a brain o'er- wrought, 
 
 Or a body with anguish wrung — 
 
 Say, what can ye do where strength is naught, 
 
 And hope to the winds is flung ? ' ' 
 
 Thus do we question Nature, 
 
 Question, at every turn, 
 
 While she, with marvelous patience. 
 
56 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 Still bids us strive and learn ; 
 
 For oh ! she is kind to her children, 
 
 And, if we could only know, 
 
 She holds a relief 
 
 For every grief 
 
 And a balm for every woe. 
 
 If only we knew the secrets 
 
 That lurk in her hidden power, 
 
 We could baffle death 
 
 Till the latest breath 
 
 Of age's frosty hour ; 
 
 And then, as fall the autumn leaves, 
 
 Or petals of the rose, 
 
 Mankind content 
 
 With days full-spent 
 
 Would welcome death's repose. 
 
 But we are only children 
 
 Gathered around the knees 
 
 Of Nature — wondrous teacher ! — 
 
 Conning our A, B, C's, 
 
 And now she bids us onward 
 
 To grander things than these ; 
 
 For we are the sons of Hahnemann, 
 
 And of Hippocrates. 
 
OCCASIONAI. AND FRAGMENTARY. 57 
 
 Ah ! woe to him who rests secure 
 
 In a little knowledge gained, 
 
 Who heeds not the fathomless height and depth, 
 
 Who heeds not the measureless length and 
 
 breadth 
 Of the vast and unattained ! 
 And woe, if we 
 Content should be 
 With the trifles we comprehend ; 
 Since life, with all that one can see 
 Of* its stupendous mysterj^ — 
 Of things that are, and things to be — 
 Is ours to defend. 
 Ours its two great portals 
 Swinging to chime, and knell — 
 Ours, the primal welcome ; 
 Ours, the last farewell ! 
 
 III. 
 
 O the changes man will see 
 When Truth shall come ! 
 Doctors then will all agree, 
 Nurses teachable will be, 
 
58 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Patients uncomplainingly 
 Bide whate'er the fates decree. 
 
 There will be no selfish scheming 
 
 When Truth shall come. 
 
 There will be no fruitless dreaming, 
 
 No seductive empty seeming, 
 
 No deceit, nor disesteeming. 
 
 When Truth shall come. 
 
 Theories the wisps may take 
 
 When Truth shall come. 
 Facts will base of action make, 
 Facts — however tenets shake. 
 Thrones decline, or altars break — 
 Men will hold and ne'er forsake 
 
 When Truth shall come. 
 
 Wisdom, purity, and love. 
 Every link of thought will prove, 
 Every line of conduct move. 
 As within the home above. 
 When Truth shall come. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 59 
 
 And she's coming. E'en now, lo ! 
 Yonder skies begin to glow. 
 Nay, 'tis not the boreal light 
 Streaming from its arctic height, 
 That were not so clear and white. 
 List ! O list ! A song ! A song 
 Thrills the track she sweeps along, 
 lyist ! The voice doth seem to say : 
 "Sons of earth, prepare the way, 
 
 I come ! 
 Wreathe the laurel ! Bind the bay ! 
 
 I come ! I come ! 
 From the heights of peace supernal, 
 From the throne of the Eternal, 
 Downward where the earth's diurnal 
 Darkling walk is called a da}^ — 
 Where a people grope in darkness. 
 Grope, and call their darkness day — 
 
 Eo, I come ! 
 And my progress none can stay ; 
 Haste, O earth ! Prepare the wa)^, 
 
 I come ! I come ! 
 
6o RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 ' ' O the urgence of the flight 
 
 As I come — 
 From the empyrean height, 
 Out of radiance into night, 
 
 Swiftly come ! 
 Downward, downward now I fly, 
 Thinking soon I shall descry 
 
 In the gloom, 
 Shadowings of that nether sky ; 
 And ten thousand voices cry 
 Out of realms I'm sweeping by, 
 ' Ho ! The dawn ! The day is nigh ! 
 
 Light is come ! ' 
 
 ** Yonder ether's mazy beach 
 
 Marks the bound man's thought may reach 
 
 Haste my song ! 
 For that proves his planet near ; 
 Star and sun will soon appear. 
 Then a noisome atmosphere 
 
 And narrow dome. 
 Haste, O haste ! my flight, my song — 
 Karth has waited now too long — 
 Reign of Error ! Reign of Wrong ! ' 
 
 I come ! I come ! ' ' 
 
OCCASIONAIv AND FRAGMKNTARY. 6 1 
 
 XI. 
 OUR BANNER. 
 
 Sung by the Grammar School children of Monson, 
 Mass., at the dedication of their flag, October 22, 
 1892. 
 
 nrmS shall be our song to-day — 
 •'■ Our banner, the banner of freedom ! 
 
 This the note we '11 waft away — 
 Our banner, the banner of freedom ! 
 
 Wake the music now and sing 
 
 Till the answering echoes ring, 
 
 As unto the breeze we fling 
 Our banner, the banner of freedom ! 
 
 Take it, ye glad winds of heaven — 
 Our banner, the banner of freedom ! 
 
 To your hands is rightly given 
 Our banner, the banner of freedom ! 
 
62 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 And proclaim where'er ye fly, 
 'Neath the all-resounding sky, 
 That ye bear with pride on high 
 Our banner, the banner of freedom ! 
 
 Greet it first, O sun, at morn — 
 Our banner, the banner of freedom ! 
 
 And let thy last rays adorn 
 Our banner, the banner of freedom ! 
 And ye stars that nightly rove 
 The cerulean plains above, 
 Guard these sister stars we love — 
 Our banner, the banner of freedom ! 
 
 Hail ! Ay, we will ever hail 
 Our banner, the banner of freedom ! 
 
 O'er our grandest efforts nail 
 Our banner, the banner of freedom ! 
 'Tis the flag our fathers brave 
 Fought on many a field to save, 
 Gallant flag ! forever wave — 
 Our banner, the banner of freedom ! 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 63 
 
 XII. 
 
 OUR NATIVE STATE. 
 
 Read at the Decennial Reunion of the New Hamp- 
 shire Association, Worcester, Mass., February 12, 
 1889. 
 
 SONS and Daughters of New Hampshire, 
 We are gathered here to show 
 Homage to a common birthplace 
 And the days of long ago. 
 We were born where rugged mountains 
 In stupendous grandeur stand, 
 Taught the lessons of our childhood 
 From the book of nature grand. 
 So to-night we wander backward, 
 Through the scenes of youth elate, 
 To repeat the matchless glories 
 Of the grand old Granite State. 
 
64 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Others may have greener pastures, 
 Broader wheat-fields, richer mines, 
 Valleys decked in orange blossoms. 
 Hillsides twined with budding vines ; 
 For the pride of old New Hampshire, 
 And the products of her ground. 
 Are not corn and coal and cattle, 
 Which in every State abound. 
 But each rocky farm and hillside 
 Is producing o'er and o'er 
 Crops of noble men and women 
 Nothing less, and — little more ! 
 
 So, if I should ask the question. 
 Which upon the streets is trite, 
 "What 's the matter with New Hampshire ? 
 You would tell me, " She 's all right. ' ' 
 And she is. From every quarter 
 Comes the proof of what I write — 
 From her narrow belt of ocean. 
 From her mountains capped in white, 
 From the sacred spot where Webster 
 First beheld the morning light, 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 65 
 
 Comes the answer, comes the echo, 
 ' Old New Hampshire is all right." 
 
 Where are found such scenes of grandeur ? 
 I^ook upon Franconia's height ; 
 See the "Old Man of the Mountains " 
 Standing there in silent might, 
 Minding not the heat of summer, 
 Caring not for winter's night — 
 Symbol of New Hampshire's greatness ; 
 Yes, ' ' New Hampshire is all right. ' ' 
 
 Glad am I of such a birthplace, 
 Proud am I of such a state, 
 Rome upon her hills of glory 
 Never was more truly great. 
 Never Roman more exultant 
 O'er the spot that gave him birth. 
 Than am I that in New Hampshire 
 First I saw the light of earth. 
 And each rolling year increases 
 My devotion to that land. 
 Tints the memories of childhood 
 With a beauty truly grand, 
 5 
 
66 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Till the halls of recollection 
 A full gallery appear, 
 And no picture there so precious 
 As thine own, New Hampshire dear. 
 O New Hampshire, we extol thee ! 
 Grandest, noblest, dearest State ; 
 Well may all thy children call thee 
 Queen among the thirty-eight ! 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMKNTARY. 67 
 
 XIII. 
 
 ODE. 
 
 Sung at a dinner of The Sons and Daughters of 
 New Hampshire, Worcester, Mass., February 11, 
 1892. 
 
 TTHOUGH forth from the home of our youth 
 *^ we may wander, 
 
 Far, far from the haunts of its innocent glee, 
 Though hopes we may shatter, and precious 
 
 years squander, 
 O Mother, New Hampshire! we'll still think 
 of thee ; 
 Of thee, Old New Hampshire ! 
 We '11 still think of thee. 
 
 But should a kind Providence bless each en- 
 deavor, 
 And prosper our labors on land and on sea, 
 
68 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 No lurements of riches or kindred shall sever 
 Our hearts' best affection, New Hampshire, 
 from thee ; 
 
 From thee, Old New Hampshire ! 
 
 New Hampshire, from thee. 
 
 Home, home is the spot that we first loved and 
 
 cherished. 
 The place of our childhood, where'er it may be ; 
 O tell us. no never, that first love has perished ; 
 New Hampshire, our first love, our home is with 
 thee; 
 With thee, Old New Hampshire ! 
 Our home is with thee. 
 
 As the heights first illumed by the sun in the 
 
 morning 
 Catch his last loving look as he sinks in the lea, 
 So our hearts fondly turn at the chill of death's 
 warning 
 To thee, O New Hampshire ! 
 To slumber with thee; 
 With thee. Old New Hampshire ! 
 New Hampshire, with thee ! 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 69 
 
 XIV. 
 
 AN INTERIvUDE. 
 
 Read at a reunion of the students of Francestown 
 Academy, August 19, 1896. 
 
 HOW like a panorama now we see 
 Familiar things of youth and long ago, 
 No later pictures bring to you or me 
 Such wondrous tints as those we used to know. 
 No hills so grand as youthful fancies paint ; 
 No skies so fair as youth's cerulean blue ; 
 No hearts so free from murmurous complaint ; 
 No gems so bright as morning's sparkhng dew ! 
 
 So turn the dingy dial back 
 
 Upon the clock, I say ; 
 
 What's twenty years when past and gone? 
 
 We all are young to-day. 
 Yes, drop the irksome, thankless tasks 
 
70 RANDOM RIMBS. 
 
 That crowd life's weary way, 
 
 And breathe again the morning air — 
 
 We all are young to-da}'-. 
 Perhaps a few, a thoughtless few. 
 Have wandered far astray — 
 This joyful feast is spread for you, 
 
 You're welcome back to-day. 
 And some there are, full well I know. 
 Could titles proud display; 
 Who cares for jots and titles here. 
 
 We're Jack and Joe to-day. 
 So lay aside your common cant, 
 Ye clergymen, I pray ; 
 You know we know as much as you, 
 
 Don't preach to us to-day. 
 And lawyers' drop your bags of green, 
 This court decrees you may ; 
 We're sitting now upon the bench, 
 
 Don't argue here to-day. 
 And teachers, put your models, blocks. 
 And musty books away, 
 Come, see these " living pictures " here, 
 
 We 're works of art to-day. 
 And you electric- wire fiends. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 7 1 
 
 That with the lightnings play — 
 Don't shock our unsuspecting souls 
 
 With any " cells " to-day. 
 And farmers dear, we hope at least 
 You 've made the business pay, 
 But don't pervert this sacred feast 
 
 With ' ' phosphates ' ' here to-day. 
 And business men, as well beware ! 
 " The times are hard," you sa5^ 
 The " gold-bug " beats the empty air. 
 
 Don't talk finance to-day. 
 And spinsters fair and free forget 
 Your wheels and bloomers gay, 
 The winsome leap-year lingers yet — 
 
 There 's hope for you to-day. 
 And mothers with your downy broods 
 Of little ones at play — 
 Don't talk of countless patent foods 
 
 And baby clothes to-day. 
 And doctors, take the gentle dose 
 To others you convey — 
 Don't smirk around for patients here, 
 
 We all are well to-day. 
 Yes, teachers dear and schoolmates all, 
 
72 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 The piercing Roentgeyi ray 
 Shows every throbbing heart in place, 
 We all are young to-day. 
 
 O what is life ? To be a babe 
 
 Upon a mother's breast 
 
 Content with simplest wants supplied, 
 
 To breathe, to feed, to rest. 
 
 And then, a child with curious touch 
 
 And eager wondering e3'es 
 
 That seeks to solve the bit of world 
 
 Which round about it lies. 
 
 And then, a little one at school 
 
 With books and to3'S a store 
 
 Who feels within an easy reach 
 
 The sum of human lore. 
 
 And then, a dreamful gushing youth 
 
 Whose conscious blush betrays 
 
 The golden thread of love that runs 
 
 Throughout life's tangled maze. 
 
 And then, the husband, or the bride, 
 
 By sweet illusion blest, 
 
 Each to the other's life allied 
 
 Divinest, dearest, best. 
 
OCCASIONAI. AND FRAGMENTARY. 73 
 
 And then, the father, mother- heart 
 
 One joyful burden bear. 
 
 To guard and keep the precious trust 
 
 Committed to their care. 
 
 And then — perhaps a tiny grave. 
 
 Perhaps the mourning mate 
 
 Of one whose light went out at noon 
 
 And left day desolate. 
 
 Perhaps the sheens of summer wear 
 
 The blight of autumn now, 
 
 And lines of sorrow and of care 
 
 Have aged the youthful brow. 
 
 And when we think of pleasure 
 
 The mind instinctive turns 
 
 To youth's enchanted gardens 
 
 Where still its altar burns ; 
 
 And memories like incense 
 
 Fill all that sacred spot — 
 
 Entranced we stand in silence, 
 
 The present lost in thought. 
 
 And what's ahead? We know not, 
 
 We cannot even see 
 
 The pathway down life's sure decline 
 
74 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 Unto the western lea. 
 
 And what about the country 
 
 Beyond the vsunset gates, 
 
 Whose gHmmers tint with glory 
 
 The cloud that overwaits ? 
 
 We know not yet. We know not ; 
 
 But who can now unfold 
 
 The mystery of life to which 
 
 We cling with frantic hold? 
 
 Who knows the subtle essence 
 
 Of vital forms we meet ? 
 
 And yet to all creation 
 
 This mystery is sweet. 
 
 And so, perhaps, in some way, 
 
 Though only God knows how. 
 
 The mystery of death may be 
 
 As sweet as living now ; 
 
 Or may be the Creator 
 
 For us has deemed it best 
 
 To crown his benefactions 
 
 With an eternal rest. 
 
 Instinctively we reason, 
 
 Since life to all is sweet. 
 
 The state toward which we journey 
 
OCCASION AI. AND FRAGMKNTARY. 75 
 
 Must be a sequence meet. 
 And so, we wait in silence, 
 Nor seek to know our lot, 
 Content to trust the future 
 With Him who changeth not. 
 
 My task is done. The curtain drops. 
 
 Turn on the lights, I pray, 
 
 Let each assume his wonted role 
 
 Before we leave to-day. 
 
 We 've played our parts so many years 
 
 We somehow seem to be 
 
 Grown into them till each has lost 
 
 His own identity. 
 
 Of course it seems the veriest farce 
 
 That lads we used to know 
 
 Should go parading round the world 
 
 A-duping people so. 
 
 That some should play at farming. 
 
 And some at keeping store; 
 
 That some should pound the anvil. 
 
 And some should smelt the ore; 
 
 That some should fill prescriptions, 
 
 And some should run our mills. 
 
76 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 And some insure our houses, 
 
 And some should peddle pills; 
 
 That some should fire engines, 
 
 And some report the news, 
 
 And some should stand in pulpits, 
 
 And some in teacher's shoes; 
 
 That some should play with lightnings, 
 
 And some with dental drills; 
 
 That some should probe our vitals. 
 
 And some should probate wills; 
 
 That some should sample products 
 
 And carry them around,. 
 
 And some embalm our bodies 
 
 And lay them in the ground. 
 
 And girls ! you can't be mothers ! 
 
 But, when I take a view 
 
 Of faces pressed against your own, 
 
 I rather think '.tis true. 
 
 And boys, just watch the little lads 
 
 Who strut around at play 
 
 With all the airs you once possessed — " 
 
 Where did they get them, pray ? 
 
 Yes, blood will tell. You can't deny 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMKNTARY. 77 
 
 Your children if you would, 
 
 You know the pride a father feels, 
 
 The joy of motherhood. 
 
 You know the truth. Life is no dream. 
 
 The miracle of birth 
 
 Is still a part of Nature's plan 
 
 To carry on the earth. 
 
 And so to some the sacred tie 
 
 Of parentage is given, 
 
 And so the home embodies all 
 
 Our fondest hopes of Heaven. 
 
 What is life's end, but labor? 
 
 Success, but duty done? 
 
 Religion, but forgetfulness 
 
 Of self for every one? 
 
 What's serving God, but serving man? 
 
 And faith, but courage true? 
 
 And prayer, but firm endeavor 
 
 With noble ends in view ? 
 
 What 's living long, but living well? 
 
 Death, but transition meet? 
 
 And heaven, but the sure reward 
 
 That crowns a life complete? 
 
78 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 And now a sudden change comes o'er 
 
 The doubting of my dreams, 
 
 Between two mystic worlds I stand 
 
 Nor either real seems ; 
 
 The one contains a struggling group, 
 
 As now I see you here. 
 
 With faces lined with sorrow, care. 
 
 And many an anxious fear ; 
 
 While just upon the other side 
 
 Of a mysterious gate. 
 
 Another shadowy group I see 
 
 In rapt attention wait. 
 
 With noiseless step they move about, 
 
 As phantoms come and go, 
 
 And here and there amid the throng 
 
 Are faces that we know. 
 
 They listen to our welcomes glad, 
 
 They watch our greetings here 
 
 And with the sympathy of love 
 
 Are pressing strangely near. 
 
 And see ! As each of us completes 
 
 The work he has to do, 
 
 The mystic gate in silence opes 
 
 And gives an entrance through. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 79 
 
 And so, ere long, we, one by one. 
 Shall lay our tasks away 
 To join that other joyous band 
 In gladsome holiday. 
 
80 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 XV. 
 
 PAT'S PHII.OSOPHY. 
 
 /^CH ! Kate, be yezcroyin? Phwat, ** Don't 
 ^^ want ter live ? ' ' 
 
 Begorree ! I niver see sich 
 A crathur as yez be. A man kin not tell 
 
 Frim yer laugh an yer cry, which is which. 
 Uv course by an by we mus all uv us die, 
 
 But ye'd betther live on while ye kin ; 
 For if ye should sthay till yer swate hair is gray. 
 
 Ye '11 be dead long enough, darlint, thin — 
 Yis, long enough dead, darlint, thin ! 
 
 An shure yez be toired a-worruckin roun, 
 
 The young uns do bother ye so ; 
 But there 's no nater brats in the worrld to be 
 foun 
 
 Thin yer own, as ye virry will know ; 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENT ARY. 8 1 
 
 An 3^e can't over noight lave one outen yer 
 soight, 
 
 Nor thrust him ter comb his own hair, 
 Soye'dbetther take keer, an sthay awhile here, 
 
 There '11 be toime enough thin over there, 
 Katie dear, yis, plenty er toime over there ! 
 
 It 's an illigant place on the hill, as ye say, 
 
 Wid the crosses a-glamin so white, 
 An the paple a-comin wid posies all day, 
 
 An the whip-poor-wills callin at night ; 
 But phwat'lljF^ care for the illigance there 
 
 When ye 're shlapin as hard as a bame, 
 An meself cannot take ye an shake ye an 
 wake ye, 
 
 In case ye should have a bad drame, 
 Honey dear, in case ye should have a bad drame ? 
 
 It's maybe yez thinkin about the foine ride 
 
 Ye '11 be havin' wid coupe and span, 
 Yerself housened up like a princess inside. 
 
 An on top er the kirridge a man ! 
 But I'll ax ye, dear Kate, if ye'd betther not 
 wait 
 6 
 
82 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 A wee bit afore sthartin the show ? 
 Ye kin ride in that hack (faith! an 't won't 
 fetch ye back) 
 
 Whin there's no ither waj^ ye kin go, 
 Little pet, not one ither way ye kin go ! 
 
 Be jabbers, ye 'd betther be aisey awhile. 
 
 An settle down wid us an sthay, 
 
 Or Mary an Moike an the nabors will shmile 
 
 Fer the wake they '11 be havin that day ! 
 Besoides, ye don't know jist where 3^e might 
 go— 
 
 Ye 're fergittin the mate ye ate Lint — 
 An ye can't shtan the shmell uv a match — 
 very well, 
 
 So phwat would ye do if ye wint, 
 Darlint, say, phwat would ye do if ye wint? 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 83 
 
 O 
 
 XVI. 
 
 THE OLD BACH. 
 
 LUCKY is he, 
 So jolly and free, 
 Who never was ruled by a wife : 
 He lives at his ease, 
 Has no one to please, 
 Is careless and happy through life. 
 
 No babies to hold. 
 
 No beldam to scold. 
 No servants to bother around ; 
 
 He pays for his fare. 
 
 Escapes from its care ; 
 The happiest man to be found ! 
 
 He plays the guitar. 
 He smokes his cigar 
 
34 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 With feet on the back of a chair ; 
 Throws hat on the floor, 
 Ivcaves open the door, 
 
 Tracks mud on the carpeted stair. 
 
 . He goes to the play, 
 And stops by the way. 
 
 To take a hand round with a friend 
 Reels homeward at night, 
 And sings with delight, 
 
 I 've no jealous wife to offend! " 
 
 ( ( 
 
 For dresses and strings, 
 
 And bonnets and rings. 
 No taxes are laid on his purse ; 
 
 No mother-in-law 
 
 To fill him with awe 
 And make his calamities worse. 
 
 Too valiant and brave 
 
 To live as a slave. 
 All wiles of the siren he ' 11 scorn ; 
 
 For love is a bane, 
 
 And marriage a chain, 
 And husbands are — idiots born ! 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMKNTARY. 85 
 
 MORAL. 
 
 Young lovers, beware, 
 
 Consider with care, 
 Before you determine to wed ; 
 
 Lest blinded by Fate 
 
 You sorrow too late — 
 Here 's a tip for you boys — look ahead. 
 
 New York, 1881. 
 
86 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 THE SEKRIT UV SUKCES. 
 
 Yer agoin out in the world, my boy, 
 
 So lissen a bit ter me, 
 I '11 tell ye a rool that '11 help ye more 
 
 Than enny ye iver see — 
 I kant remember the words exact, 
 
 But this is the since uv it, Jim, — 
 What ye wmit uv a feller ter du fur you 
 
 You ^ve gut fur ter du fur him. 
 
 If iver ye 'd borrer, ye 've gut to lend 
 
 With an open hand and free ; 
 If ye 'd be befriended, ye must befriend 
 
 Wheniver the chance may be ; 
 For I tell ye naow, whereiver ye go — 
 
 It's tru az the gospel, Jim — 
 If ye want a feller ter kotnerdate you 
 
 You 've gut ter komerdate him. 
 
OCCASION AIv AND FRAGMENTARY. 87 
 
 Speak wel as ye kan uv yer feller man, 
 
 Or else du not speak at all ; 
 Don't think yer own varchews air oUus grate 
 
 An hizzen air ollus small ; 
 It don't kost nothin ter say a good word, 
 
 An peple all like it, Jim ; 
 If you want a feller ter speak wel uv you, 
 
 Yo2i 've gut ter speak wel uv him. 
 
 In evry man's hart there's a tender spot, 
 
 An so, if ye want ter win im. 
 Jest giv it a poke with a word uv praise, 
 
 An dont say a thing agin im ; 
 No matter how little he liked ye wonst, 
 
 Yer jedgment will please him, Jim, 
 If ye wa?it a feller ter presheate you, 
 
 You 've gut ter presheate him. 
 
 Be tru ter the ones that konfide in you, 
 
 At evry time an place ; 
 An don't say a thing behind a man's back, 
 
 Ye wouldn't afore his face ; 
 When friends have forsook ye, an slander's tung 
 
 Is pinted agin ye, Jim, 
 
88 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 If ye want a feller ter be tru ter you. 
 You've gut ter be tru ter him. 
 
 There's no use a-livin onles ye have friends, 
 
 For ye kant git on without um ; 
 An the number ye have, on yerself depends 
 
 An how ye behave about um ; 
 If ye want ter be happy an prosprus tu, 
 
 I'll give ye the sekrit, Jim, — 
 What ye want uv a feller ter du fur you 
 
 Stan reddy fur ter du fur him. 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMENTARY. 89 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 CIvEOPATRA'S NEEDLE. 
 
 Placed in Central Park, New York, January 22, 
 1881. 
 
 'T^IS done. The toilsome task is now com- 
 
 * plete. 
 
 The rule of mind o'er matter stands approved. 
 Egypt, the storehouse of the ancient world, 
 The source of wisdom and the home of art, 
 Hath basely bartered off this priceless gem 
 To deck Columbia's brow. 
 
 O Egypt fair ! 
 No clouds obscure thy face from heavenlj^ light ; 
 Thy breast is bathed with waters from afar, 
 And from its grateful surface springs the palm, 
 While seas of golden grain wave in thy breath, — 
 How couldst thou lie supinely in repose 
 
90 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 When alien hands were tearing from thy heart 
 This sacred stone? 
 
 O grand, majestic Nile ! 
 The arid sands thy royal fullness drink 
 And lo, a garden springeth into view ; 
 Fair on thy either bank the flowers stoop 
 To kiss their own reflection from below, — 
 O stricken Nile, was it for this that thou 
 Didst leave the grandeur of thy mountain home, 
 Th}^ lonely pathway wending to the deep, 
 To see this milestone, which for ages long 
 Had cheered thee on with salutations glad, 
 Snatched rudely from thy side? 
 
 O Cleopatra, 
 Of Egypt's rulers lovliest and last ! 
 By thee Rome's leader was a captive led 
 And gave his life to share thy hapless fate. 
 Thy kingdom is forever lost to thee ; 
 And all thy noble lineage is dust. 
 But now this monolith with quaint designs. 
 Unknown to us, but known and read by thee, 
 Stands safely guarded by thy jealous eye. 
 Thou didst preserve it from a watery grave, 
 Thyself directing at the helm the ship, 
 
OCCASIONAL AND FRAGMKNTARY. 9 1 
 
 The gallant ship, that brought it safe to land. 
 Still guard, O Spirit Queen, thy treasure hence, 
 Should e'er Columbia, like Egypt, prove 
 Unworthy of thy trust. 
 
 New York, January 23, 1881. 
 
92 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 THE PENNY-POST. 
 
 r\ PEACEFUL knight of modern birth, 
 ^-^ With weight of mail and coat of gray, 
 How little can you know the worth 
 
 Of all the matter you convey! 
 The printed paper, early sent. 
 
 With hasty glance we throw away. 
 And yet its columns represent 
 
 The toil of many ever}^ day. 
 The countless advertisements too, 
 
 That in our refuse basket lay. 
 Were written with an end in view 
 
 And cost — well, let the printers say. 
 The hasty scrawl upon a card, 
 
 Which tidings brings from far away. 
 Is dearer than the wisest bard 
 
 To waiters anxious from delay. 
 
 Those billets-doux may volumes mean, 
 
OCCASIONAI. AND FRAGMENTARY. 93 
 
 Though not a word of love they sa}^ ; 
 For safe between the Hnes, I ween, 
 
 No tender message goes astray. 
 The budding poet sends his rhymes 
 
 For classic journals to display ; 
 You bring them back — as many times — 
 "Returned with thanks " is all they say. 
 And now an invitation neat 
 
 To wedding, social or soirSe ; 
 Perchance a bill we pledged to meet 
 
 But small the chance for checks to pay. 
 Anon a letter draped in black 
 
 Brings news of one that's gone for aye, — 
 Good postman, take the message back ! 
 
 My eyes are dim, — O read it, pray ! 
 
 With throbbing hearts we welcome thee, 
 
 O somber knight in suit of gray ! 
 Thy service, though it simple be. 
 
 Doth half the sum of life outweigh. 
 And so we ever watch and wait. 
 
 With curious haste each post survey. 
 Till Death appears before the gate 
 
 With summons brief — and we obey. 
 
94 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 XX. 
 
 BKLSHAZZAR. 
 
 (From the German of Heine.) 
 
 T^HK midnight hour is drawing on ; 
 In calm repose hes Babylon, 
 
 Save from the castle of the king 
 Comes forth the din of rioting, 
 
 For in that gorgeous palace hall 
 Belshazzar holds high festival. 
 
 His courtiers there in glittering lines 
 Applaud and quaff their sparkling wines. 
 
 And glasses clink, and nobles sing, 
 In adulation to the king. 
 
OCCASIONAI. AND FRAGMENTARY. 95 
 
 And as the wine more freel^^ flows 
 His face with fiery passion glows, 
 
 Until, by pride and madness driven, 
 He dares revile the Lord of heaven. 
 
 And, midst his menials' wild acclaim, 
 Boldly blasphemes Jehovah's name. 
 
 Obedient to the haughty king, 
 His serv^ants forth the vessels bring 
 
 Of gold and silver richly wrought, 
 Aforetime from God's temple brought. 
 
 With wanton hand he snatches him 
 A holy cup filled to the brim ; 
 
 And dashing it upon the hearth. 
 Cries out in loud, imperious wrath, 
 
 "Jehovah's mandates I defy — 
 The king of Babylon am I ! " 
 
96 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 This impious vaunt is scarce expressed 
 When terror fills the royal breast. 
 
 The laugh has ceased. With bated breath 
 All wait as at the hush of death ; 
 
 For look ! O look ! On yonder wall 
 A mystic hand is seen to fall ! 
 
 It writes, it writes in lines of light ! 
 And see ! It vanishes from sight ! 
 
 With quivering limbs and bloodless face 
 The king stands gazing at the place. 
 
 His vassals, with amazement chill 
 
 And speechless, wait their sovereign's will. 
 
 None of his wise men can declare 
 The awful sentence written there. 
 
 And ere the morning dawns again, 
 Belshazzar, the proud king, is slain. 
 
PART II. 
 
 GLEANED FROM NATURE. 
 
Gleaned from Nature. 
 
 I. 
 
 OUR WORLD. 
 
 /^UR world is a mote in the sunbeams, 
 ^-^ And it circles and wheels in its play 
 With the numberless boonful companions 
 
 It meets on its mystical way ; 
 It dives and it eddies among them, 
 
 By the breath of Omnipotence whirled, 
 Or floats in the boundless abysm — 
 
 This infinitesimal world ! 
 
 Our world is a mote in the sunbeams 
 Despite all its boastful display 
 
 Of rainbows, auroras, and sunsets, 
 And mountains in regal array ; 
 
 Despite all its great roaring oceans, 
 
lOO RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 And thunder-storms' menacing glare, 
 'Tis only a mote in the sunbeams, 
 Adrift in obscurity there. 
 
 Our world is a mote in the sunbeams. 
 
 And we, the frail dwellers thereon. 
 Catch hardly a glimpse of its wonders 
 
 Ere the light of our being is gone. 
 At the few shining specks that flit by us 
 
 We level our glasses with glee, 
 And foolishly fancy we 've fathomed 
 
 Infinitude's vast mystery. 
 
 Our world is a mote in the sunbeams. 
 
 Just one of the trillions unknown 
 That sweep through the infinite spaces 
 
 Like dust by a whirlwind up-blown ; 
 One mote in the maze of creation ! 
 
 And since in the one we can see 
 Such order and beauty and grandeur. 
 
 What must the great universe be ! 
 
GIvE^ANKD FROM NATURE. lOI 
 
 II. 
 MARCH. 
 
 r^ RIM monarch, last and worst 
 
 ^-* Of winter's kings, we hate thy reign. 
 
 To sit supreme and make display of despot 
 
 power 
 Upon a hapless world is thy delight. 
 Thou blottest from the heavens the sun and 
 
 fill' St 
 The earth with howling fiends. The poor dost 
 
 thou 
 Despise, and sendest out thy imps with shout 
 And scourge to drive them to their dens. Thou 
 
 art 
 Death's great ally. At thy command Disease 
 Stalks forth, and where its victims flee dost 
 
 thou 
 Appoint a prison-house, and boltest it 
 
I02 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 With bars of steel. In vain sweet Mercy pleads ; 
 
 Nor helpless infancy, nor tottering age 
 
 Can move thy maddened heart. No voice of 
 
 praise 
 Nor gladdening smile lights up the face of earth 
 Whilst thou art king. The birds come not ; the 
 
 blooms 
 Are dead ; the bees imprisoned in the cell ; 
 And e'en the brooks, the sparkling songful 
 
 brooks, 
 Lie strangled in their beds. O ghoulish glee, 
 That gloats upon the graves of beauteousness 
 And joy ! Gloat on, thy worst is done. E'en 
 
 now 
 The scepter trembles in thy palsied palm. 
 1^0, at the door benignant April waits 
 To take the crown. 
 
GLKANKD FROM NATURK. IO3 
 
 III. 
 MAYING. 
 
 AH! I've found you, pretty one, 
 ''*' Creeping out to greet the sun 
 
 From your frosty bed ; 
 I suppose you little thought 
 That in this secluded spot 
 You would be so early caught 
 
 If you raised your head. 
 
 I'd been searching all the morn 
 Under rock and sedge and thorn 
 
 By the woodland far, 
 When at last I chanced to think 
 Of this stony brooklet's brink 
 Wliere the willows stoop to drink, 
 
 lyO, and here you are ! 
 
I04 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Here you are, each baby face 
 Peeping out with witching grace 
 
 From its cloak of green ; 
 Precious blossom, don't you know 
 Everybody loves you so 
 That you ought to come and grow 
 
 Where you can be seen? 
 
 All the other flowers do, 
 B'en the bashful violet blue 
 
 Is not half .so coy ; 
 How the dandelions bright, 
 Buttercups, and daisies white 
 Flock out boldly into sight 
 
 In their childlike joy ! 
 
 How they play among the trees. 
 Nodding to each passing breeze, 
 
 Gazing at the sky ! 
 No aversion harbor they 
 Toward the clearest light of day, 
 And the most frequented way 
 
 Finds them ever nigh ; 
 
GIvBANED FROM NATURE. IO5 
 
 While you, lovelier than all, 
 You, the first to hear the call 
 
 Of the zephyrs low, 
 In some lone, sequestered nook 
 Hide away where none may look ; 
 Only bird and bush and brook 
 
 Half your sweetness know. 
 
 But we're told when you appear 
 By a thousand voices clear 
 
 Which had long been dumb ; 
 Every tree-top since you came 
 Has resounded with your name ; 
 And the vocal pools proclaim, 
 
 * ' Arbutus has come ! ' ' 
 
 Blessed harbinger of spring, 
 How can I fit praises sing 
 
 To such faultless worth ? 
 Fragrant as the breath of morn. 
 Beauteous as rosy dawn, 
 First of sun and shower born, 
 
 Blushing star of earth ! 
 
I06 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 Gentle teacher, unto me 
 lessons of humility 
 
 And content impart — 
 Lessons wherein I may trace 
 Something of that winsome grace 
 Which for you a welcome place 
 
 Finds in every heart. 
 
GivKANKD FROM NATURE. IO7 
 
 IV. 
 
 A MERRY-GO-ROUND. 
 
 T AM sitting here watching a merr>^- go- round, 
 * The grandest that ever was seen ; 
 
 It centres in yonder horizon's dim bound, 
 And it turns with a rush, and a rumbhng sound 
 As I gaze on its emerald sheen. 
 
 Come, tarry with me ; 'tis a beautiful sight ; 
 
 'Tis nature's great gala display ; 
 The orchards and groves wheel around in their 
 
 flight. 
 And flit past our faces like phantoms of light. 
 
 Then circle away, and away. 
 
 The meadows are coming all bright with the 
 bloom 
 Of orchid, and iris, and rue ; 
 
I08 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 They fan us with breath of delicious perfume 
 And hasten away, as if to make room 
 For the hillsides appearing in view. 
 
 Ah ! there is a brooklet that fain would not go, 
 
 And backward is striving to flee ; 
 Like a serpent disabled b}^ merciless blow. 
 It winds its way slowly, and ever more slow. 
 Till lost in the lake by the lea. 
 
 Yon husbandman, quite undisturbed by his ride, 
 
 Plows on through the green, growing maize, 
 
 While the bare- footed boy, on that old bay 
 
 astride, 
 Sits up like a prince in the pink of his pride, 
 Returning our curious gaze. 
 
 And now a whole city comes thundering on 
 
 With its mansions and monuments high ; 
 A murmur of marts meets the ear and is gone. 
 And see ! O the wonder, — to look out upon 
 The dead in their graves rushing by ! 
 
 Now faster, and faster, and faster it gains ; 
 
GLBANKD FROM NATURE. IO9 
 
 Ho ! Hear you that shriek of alarm ? 
 No, 'tis of deHght at the speed it attains, 
 See ! The trees Hke wild horses are sweeping 
 the plains, 
 
 There 's not a suspicion of harm. 
 
 O a marvelous thing is this merry-go-round ! 
 
 Have you seen it ? No ? Hardly can guess 
 What I mean ? Well, indeed, it is easily found 
 By just glancing out as you sit homeward bound 
 
 Aboard of the lightning express. 
 
no RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 V. 
 
 AT EVENTIDE. 
 
 pURPIvE and crimson and scarlet and gold, 
 ^ Scarlet and crimson and gray — 
 Trappings of glory the heavens unfold 
 O'er the low- fallen monarch of day. 
 
 Azure and cloudlet and forest-height dim, 
 
 Ocean and mountain and sky, 
 Drinking the wine of remembrance to him 
 
 Who guards them no longer on high. 
 
 Hillside of verdure and valley of bloom, 
 Where his late kisses have pressed. 
 
 Dropping their tears in the gathering gloom 
 At thought of the grave in the west. 
 
GI.KANKD FROM NATURK. Ill 
 
 O faithless earth ! Bid fears not annoy, 
 Only a night-time, and then 
 
 Brightness and beauty and paeans of joy 
 Shall tell of his coming again. 
 
112 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE GRANITE HII.LS. 
 
 Read at a dinner of The Sons and Daughters of 
 New Hampshire, Worcester, Mass., Feb. 12, 1891. 
 
 T ET US sing to-night of the Granite Hills 
 ^ That, since the dawn of time, 
 Have borne aloft their regal forms 
 
 In majesty sublime. 
 The gales have swept their upturned brows. 
 
 The thunders muttered by, 
 But what are winds and storms to those 
 
 Brave children of the sky? 
 
 They stand — the same old Granite Hills 
 Which, when the world was young, 
 
 Rolled back unto the morning stars 
 The anthems they had sung ; 
 
 Their roaring torrents rushed amain — 
 
GI.KANKD FROM NATURE. II3 
 
 Their tuneful brooklets ran — 
 To swell that universal strain 
 From which all song began. 
 
 And they shall stand. The centuries 
 
 Sweep lightly o'er their heads 
 As rippling waves of summer streams 
 
 Upon their pebbly beds ; 
 And sylvan generations pass 
 
 Through their appointed span 
 As fleetingly as vernal grass 
 
 Before the eyes of man. 
 
 Come, sing with me of the Granite Hills 
 
 Whose domes and turrets white 
 Rising above the shifting clouds 
 
 Are bathed in crystal light ; 
 Those palace towers the Northern Star 
 
 Has chosen for his own, 
 And midst their radiance afar 
 
 Fixed his unchanging throne. 
 
 Before that throne the glittering hosts 
 That throng the boundless blue, 
 8 
 
114 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 At even- tide are marshaled forth 
 
 To pass in grand review ; 
 From unseen realms their cohorts bright 
 
 Troop up the eastern sky 
 And, circling round that central height, 
 
 March on eternally. 
 
 O let us sing of the Granite Hills ! 
 
 No grander ever rose 
 To meet the smiles of coming da}^ 
 
 Or wait the sun's repose ; 
 No grander forests ever shook 
 
 Their giant arms in air, 
 Nor e'er sang sweeter bird or brook 
 
 Than those that carol there. 
 
 Wild flowers clamber up those steeps 
 
 And crowd the vales between. 
 While lakelets from their glassy deeps 
 
 Reflect to heaven the scene. 
 The hunted doe for refuge seeks 
 
 Those haunts of solitude, 
 And on the jagged topmost peaks 
 
 The eagle tends her brood. 
 
GLKANKD FROM NATURK. II5 
 
 Yes, let us sing of the Granite Hills, 
 
 Built up that man might see 
 How wonderfully near to heaven 
 
 Our common earth may be — 
 Built up to hold unceasingly, 
 
 Before our human eyes. 
 The grandeur, strength, and symmetry 
 
 To which a soul may rise. 
 
 Among those ever-blessed heights 
 
 Is many a sacred place. 
 Which from our minds the busy years 
 
 May nevermore efface : 
 The old home standing on the hill 
 
 Beneath the maple shade ; 
 The school-house past the noisy mill 
 
 Where we as children played ; 
 
 The village common, long ago 
 
 The scene of bat and ball. 
 Protected by a faithful row 
 
 Of horse-sheds for a wall ; 
 The meeting-house just farther out, 
 
 To which we used to bring 
 
Il6 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Our "Watts' Select," and turn about 
 To see the choir sing ; 
 
 And that long- hallowed spot beneath 
 
 The church's sheltering brow, 
 Where some who lived and toiled for us 
 
 Are laid in slumber now, — 
 Above their heads the willows wave, 
 
 And staggering slabs of slate 
 Record at every grassy grave 
 
 A name, — an age, — a date. 
 
 God bless the dear old Granite Hills, 
 
 And may they ever stand 
 Fit symbol of the strength and hope 
 
 Of all this favored land ; 
 And may the sons and daughters born 
 
 Among those summits fair 
 Remember their high birth and scorn 
 
 To bring dishonor there. 
 
 Be it remembered that for us 
 Those changeless altars rise, 
 And wait to bear our orisons 
 
GLEANED FROM NATURE. II7 
 
 lyike incense to the skies. 
 From bourne to bourne, from pole to pole, 
 
 Where'er our brothers dwell, 
 Let paeans of devotion roll 
 
 And hymns of homage swell. 
 
 Now let us raise the scng again. 
 
 And strike the music higher, 
 Nor stay until its glad refrain 
 
 Shall every soul inspire ; 
 lyct heart with heart in praises vie 
 
 Until each bosom thrills 
 With purposes as grandly high 
 
 As those eternal hills ! 
 
Il8 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 VII. 
 
 A RETROSPECT OF THE ROCKY 
 MOUNTAINS. 
 
 A ND now look back whence we have come. 
 
 •'*■ O for a painter to portray the scene ! 
 
 First the foot-hills verdure-clad and beauteous 
 with bloom ; 
 
 And then the nearer mountains looking down 
 on these like fond parents upon their 
 children ; 
 
 And then those patriarchal peaks towering 
 majestically in the distance ; 
 
 And then that mass of rolling, foaming, fleecy 
 cloud, scarcely distinguishable from the 
 hoary heads on which it rests, but rising 
 above them, billow upon billow, until 
 it veils the big sinking sun, which in 
 turn transfixes it with light, and crowns 
 
GLKANKD FROM NATURE. I IQ 
 
 its every summit and all the mountain- 
 tops beneath, with silver, and scarlet, 
 and opal, and amethyst, and gold ! 
 
 Glorious spectacle ! Look on it if you can ! 
 
 Tier upon tier, terrace above terrace, height 
 beyond height — 
 
 A very stairway to heaven ! 
 
 Look on it, O doubting soul ! 
 
 Look ! until your eyes, inured to glory, catch 
 through the opening gates of sunset 
 glimpses ineffable of the celestial coun- 
 try ! 
 
T20 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 CIvEMATIS. 
 
 T IGHT and airy as a fairy 
 *^ Risest thou before my sight ; 
 From the rocky roadside springing, 
 To each bush and bramble clinging, 
 Over all a mantle flinging 
 Emerald and white. 
 
 No material so ethereal 
 
 E'er was wrought of things below ; 
 Wafted from some rare division 
 Of the blooms of fields elysian, 
 Comest thou, celestial vision, 
 
 Garlanded with snow. 
 
 Every cluster adds a luster 
 
 To what seemed supremely fair ; 
 
GLEANED FROM NATURE. 121 
 
 Upward toward the skies inclining, 
 All our baser thought refining, 
 Myriad wreaths thou art entwining 
 Bright as angels wear. 
 
 Softly creeping, gently sweeping, 
 
 Over stone and hedge and tree, 
 With whate'er thy hands are finding 
 Beauty art thou interwinding, 
 Friend and foe together binding 
 
 In fraternity. 
 
 Lowliest places glow with graces 
 
 Wheresoe'er thy tresses fall ; 
 Prince and peasant pause to bless thee ; 
 Breeze and bird and bee caress thee ; 
 Flowers of every hue confess thee 
 
 Queen among them all. 
 
 Heaven shall own thee, earth enthrone thee, 
 
 Till the stars thy temples kiss. 
 Goddess of the airs of morning. 
 Fell and field and flood adorning, 
 Recompense divinely scorning, 
 
 Lovely Clematis ! 
 
122 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE MAPLE. 
 
 /^ COME, for the day is delaying 
 
 ^-^ To see what young Autumn has done, 
 
 While his master- piece grand he 's displaying 
 
 To his critic, the all-seeing sun. 
 
 Its green, and its gold, and its crimson, 
 
 Its scarlet, and crimson, and gold, 
 
 Together are blending 
 
 In tints never ending, 
 
 And harmonies rare to behold. 
 
 O come, for the breezes are blowing 
 And tossing each flamelet in air ; 
 
 All the gems of a monarch's bestowing 
 Cannot with such brightness compare ; 
 
 For oh ! it is touched with the morning, 
 With the glintings of sunset it glows, 
 
GIvKANBD FROM NATURE. 1 23 
 
 Every leaflet aflame 
 Puts all genius to shame 
 And shadows the crown of the rose. 
 
 O put by your brushing and broiling, 
 
 And throw down 3^our hammers and spades; 
 
 There '11 be time enough left you for toiling 
 When this bit of Paradise fades. 
 
 yes, there '11 be time left for toiling — 
 For toiling there always is time, 
 
 Though in the transition 
 Of glimpses elysian 
 The soul misses all the sublime. 
 
 1 have read a most marvelous story 
 Of a country, in regions unknown, 
 
 Wherein stands a city whose glory 
 
 Is caught from the Infinite Throne — 
 And a tree by the banks of a river. 
 Which none but immortals may see, — 
 I cannot tell how 
 We can look on it now. 
 But I 'm certain that this is the tree ! 
 
124 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 X. 
 
 TO A WOUNDED THRUSH. 
 
 JpiTY on you, helpless thing, 
 ^ In my pathway fluttering — 
 Bleeding breast, and broken wing,- 
 
 Trembling with affright ; 
 Cannot run and cannot fly, 
 Cannot even voice a cry. 
 Can but linger here — and die, 
 
 In the storm to-night ! 
 
 Scarce an hour ago your song, 
 O'er the brooklet's rising strong, 
 Thrilled me as I passed along 
 
 Through this woody way ; 
 Scarce an hour ago your mate 
 By the home-nest joyful sate 
 Drinking in with soul elate 
 
 Your enchanting lay. 
 
GI.KANED FROM NATURE. 1 25 
 
 Cursed be the heartless one 
 Who this cruel deed has done — 
 Cursed while the morning sun 
 
 Earth with gladness wreathes ! 
 May no song-bird evermore 
 Build its nest beside his door, 
 Nor its wealth of joyance pour 
 
 On the air he breathes ! 
 
 Gentle singer, sure am I 
 From distress you soon will fly 
 Unto groves beyond the sky, 
 
 Far from cruel men ; 
 You will bide with birds and flowers 
 Of the amaranthine bowers, 
 Singing all the golden hours 
 
 Your old song again ! 
 
126 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 XI. 
 
 FALLING LEAVES. 
 
 T^HEY are dropping — slowly dropping, 
 * Embers from the flaming trees ; 
 All their radiance and splendor, 
 Kindled by the sunshine tender, 
 To the earth they now surrender 
 And the wajnvard breeze. 
 
 They are coming — swiftly coming, 
 Amber, amethyst, and pearl ; 
 
 With the ties of nature riven, 
 
 Tempest-tossed and madly driven. 
 
 Flashing luster back to heaven 
 In their giddy whirl. 
 
 They are flitting — gayly flitting, 
 Fledglings of autumnal light ; 
 
GI.KANKD FROM NATURE. 1 27 
 
 From their lofty perches straying, 
 With each passing zephyr playing, 
 Bough and bush the course delaying 
 Of their final flight. 
 
 They are hovering — gently hovering, 
 
 Over vale and rugged steep ; 
 Covering o'er the bloom-lit spaces 
 Which the early frost defaces. 
 Mantling tenderly the places 
 
 Where our loved ones sleep. 
 
 Yes, they're falling — sadly falling, 
 Russet, crimson, gold and gray ; 
 
 Beauteous millions headlong flying, 
 
 With the winds' discordant sighing. 
 
 At our feet ignobly lying, 
 Waiting dread decay. 
 
 They are teaching — fitly teaching, 
 
 That which gladdens — that which grieves: 
 
 There is naught of earth abiding ; 
 
 But, behind all nature hiding. 
 
 Is a Hand our footsteps guiding 
 And the falling leaves. 
 
128 RANDOM RIMBS. 
 
 XII. 
 HAZEL BLOOM. 
 
 DLOOM of the frosty light 
 *-^ Spangling with color bright 
 
 Woodside and glen, 
 Thrice glad thy coming here 
 Now all the earth is drear — 
 Child of the dying year, 
 
 Welcome again. 
 
 No sister blossoms sweet 
 Linger thy steps to greet, 
 
 Thy charms to learn ; 
 Sere all the hillsides lie, 
 Songless the woodland nigh. 
 Only the streams and sky 
 
 Hail thy return. 
 
GI^EANKD FROM NATURE. 1 29 
 
 Symbol of hope art thou 
 Unto each leafless bough, 
 
 Each silent grove ; 
 For in thy stellar rays 
 Gleams pledge of vernal days, 
 Sunshine and songs of praise, 
 
 Gladness and love. 
 
130 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 HARVEST HYMN. 
 
 QHEAF and shock in garnered store, 
 *^ Brimming bin and bounteous board 
 Mind us of the ceaselsss care 
 
 Of the ever-mindful Lord. 
 For these tokens of his love 
 
 Lift a song, ye sons of men, 
 Waft it to the worlds above — 
 
 God has blest the earth again ! 
 
 Stay, ye warblers of the wood, 
 
 Stay, O stay your southward flight 
 Till in one glad hymn of praise 
 
 All our voices may unite ; 
 O'er and o'er this carol meet 
 
 Let the grove, the glade, the glen 
 Echo — and the hills repeat — 
 
 God has blest the earth again ! 
 
GLEANED FROM NATURE. 13I 
 
 Publish it, ye wandering winds, 
 
 Whatsoe'er the voice may be ; 
 Roar it through the rocky gorge, 
 
 Trill it from the trembling tree, 
 Lisp it in the ear of night 
 
 As ye trip along the plain, 
 Shout it from each mountain height — 
 
 God has blest the earth again ! 
 
 Sing it, all ye blitheful brooks 
 
 Gamboling down the hillsides free ; 
 Sing it to the listening skies, 
 
 Sing it to the answering sea. 
 Thrill the ocean's thunderous roll 
 
 With the burden of the strain 
 Till it peals from pole to pole — 
 
 God has blest the earth again ! 
 
 Sing, yon sisterhood of stars. 
 
 Ye, who chorused when the earth, 
 Out of chaos dark and waste, 
 
 Leaped to life in wondrous birth, — 
 Sing it through the vast unknown, 
 
 Wheresoe'er ye chanted then. 
 Sing ye, circling round the Throne, 
 
 God has blest the earth again ! 
 
132 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 DECEMBER. 
 
 /^ COLD lies the snow in the dreary De- 
 
 ^-^ cember, 
 
 And cold stands the oak on the mountain's 
 
 bleak side, 
 But colder by far are the hopes I remember 
 Which blossomed in beauty then faded and died . 
 
 The soft summer wind that caressed the green 
 
 branches 
 Till each leaf responded with musical tone, 
 Was never more sweet than the dreams of my 
 
 fancy ; 
 But now they are vanished, those visions are 
 
 flown. 
 
 The Ice- King descends in the dreary December, 
 
GIvEANKD FROM NATURE. 1 33 
 
 His beard is the snow and the tempest his 
 
 breath, 
 He breathes — and the mountain Hes shrouded 
 
 and silent ; 
 The laughing brook falters and stiffens in death. 
 
 The winds sweep the mountain in wild exulta- 
 tion ; 
 
 They howl through its forests with desolate 
 moan ; 
 
 With garlands of frost-work the Ice- King en- 
 twines it 
 
 And cries : "I am Winter and this is my 
 throne. ' ' 
 
 [tion 
 
 O bright were the buds of my youthful ambi- 
 
 And full of glad promise was life's leafy day ; 
 
 But the breath of the Ice- King has spoiled their 
 fruition, 
 
 The wild winds of winter are howling in May. 
 
 The flowers of hope I had cherished so fondly, 
 Whose presence was beauty, whose breath was 
 perfume, 
 
134 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Have fallen to earth like the leaves of the 
 
 mountain, 
 lyike them to lie buried in darkness and gloom. 
 
 But spring shall return to the still shrouded 
 
 mountain 
 And melt the cold clutch of the Ice- King away ; 
 Again shall its fountains be loosed from their 
 
 fetters 
 And orchards resound with the oriole's lay. 
 
 Again shall its forests be mantled with verdure ; 
 Again its broad slopes wear a carpet of green ; 
 Again the bright blossoms give promise of 
 
 plenty, 
 And provident squirrels at harvest be seen. 
 
 And is the Great Ruler of earth and the heavens 
 Less mindful of mine to foster and shield, 
 Shall the hopes He hath planted himself in my 
 
 bosom 
 Be sooner forgotten than grass of the field ? 
 
 Forbid it and teach me this lesson to cherish, 
 
GI.KANKD FROM NATURE. 1 35 
 
 When clouds hang above me and billows are 
 
 nigh: 
 That hope, to the soul, is a pledge of fruition ; 
 God's sure bow of promise in every dark sky. 
 
136 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 XV. 
 
 LIFE IS A SKY. 
 
 /^ LIFE is a sky with its sunshine and 
 ^^ shadow, 
 
 Its canopied top with the stars peeping 
 through, 
 Its earth Hmitation, our little horizon ; 
 
 But upward, forever, the limitless blue ! 
 
 And life is a sky, a glimmer, a dawning. 
 As Phoebus rolls up from the Orient main, 
 
 A noontide of glory succeeding the morning. 
 Then lengthening shadows and darkness 
 again. 
 
 Ah ! life is a sky ; And now it is beaming 
 With bright bows of promise and fostering 
 care — 
 
GlyEANED FROM NATURE. 1 37 
 
 And now it is black save the grim lightnings 
 gleaming 
 On the wreck of its hopes in the gloom of 
 despair. 
 
 Yes, life is a sky ; and the God who created 
 Its numberless worlds through their cycles 
 to run 
 
 Is alike unto all of his creatures related — 
 A glow-worm to him is as grand as a sun ! 
 
138 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 \1 7HKN He who made the worlds would try 
 ^ ^ device 
 
 By which to crown with joy the perfect plan, 
 He swung far back the gates of Paradise 
 And called his angel, Music, down to man. 
 
 And forth she came. Her beauteous sister, 
 Light, 
 
 The first-born offspring of the radiant stars. 
 Attended her in that primordial flight 
 
 Till safe within the dim terrestrial bars. 
 
 At first she sought the ocean grand and deep. 
 Which erstwhile had in silence lashed the 
 shore : 
 
GLEANED FROM NATURE. 1 39 
 
 She bade its waves henceforth with cadence 
 sweep, 
 And chant in choral numbers evermore. 
 
 Then to the rivers, rivulets, and rills 
 
 She taught the murmurous songs which they 
 have sung, 
 Laughing and leaping down their native hills. 
 Or wandering through the vales, since earth 
 was young. 
 
 Next mounted she on chariot of cloud ; 
 
 Her steeds, the winds, she urged to madden- 
 ing flight ; 
 The dome above reverberated loud 
 
 With tones sublime, and all was wrapped in 
 night. 
 
 Anon her gleaming chariot-torches cleft 
 The ebon shade below with noonday glare, 
 
 But swift as thought evanishing, they left 
 Their track engulfed in deeper darkness there. 
 
 Then liquid notes, like tongues of silver bells. 
 
I40 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 She scattered over mountains, lakes, and 
 plains ; 
 With wild crescendos swept the woody dells. 
 Or waiting breathed in soft aeolian strains. 
 
 The chorus ceased, and on the eastern sky 
 The first faint flush of rosy morning lay, 
 
 But yet no voice of happy minstrelsy 
 
 Had e'er been found to greet the coming day. 
 
 Then summoned she the tribes of gladsome wing 
 From forest, fell, and fen, afar and near, 
 
 And taught them anthems at that hour to sing 
 So long as stars should fade and dawns appear. 
 
 And then to man with admiration dumb 
 She pitying stooped, and with divinest art 
 
 Touched his mute lips, and bade him haste to 
 come 
 And bear in earth's new symphonies his part. 
 
 She gave to him the organ, harp, and lyre. 
 The martial trumpet, drum, and clarion shrill, 
 
 And every pipe and string which might inspire 
 His hands to wake the woodland songs at will. 
 
GLEANED FROM NATURE. 14I 
 
 Then lingered she among the airs of even 
 Until each leaflet learned to whisper low 
 
 And send some message to the ear of heaven 
 By every zephyr which might chance to blow. 
 
 And now 'twixt earth and amaranthine bowers 
 She speeds her gladdening course from star 
 to star, 
 
 Hers are the hands by which this world of ours 
 Is held in concord with the worlds afar. 
 
14^ RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 THE FIRE KING. 
 
 /^ H I am a king, though you think me a slave 
 ^-^ And fret me with warder and grate, 
 And make me to Hve in dungeons that give 
 No hint of my regal estate ! 
 
 Though you drive me about with your dampers 
 and draughts 
 
 And smother my breath in a flue, 
 And grudgingly dole me a pittance of coal 
 
 As the world I encircle for j^ou ; 
 
 Though you call me to lighten and warm your 
 abodes, 
 
 Your larders wdth viands to fill. 
 To wake at the scratch of a lucifer match 
 
 By day or by night at your will ; 
 
GI.KANKD FROM NATURE. 1 43 
 
 I bid you beware, — though I servilely toil, 
 
 I am never the serf that I seem. 
 For mine is the sun, and the stars every one. 
 
 And the skies where my thunderbolts gleam. 
 
 O who can depict my ecstatic delight. 
 
 Or cope with my rollicking play, 
 As I sweep the broad plain a forest to gain, 
 
 And lick up the towns in my way ! 
 
 When I waken in wrath from my cave in the 
 earth 
 
 The mountains portentously quake. 
 The seas at the sight stagger back in affright 
 
 And the islands stand dazed in their wake ! 
 
 And man, braggart man, who calls himself lord 
 Of earth and the measureless main, 
 
 At the touch of my breath drops silent in death — 
 Mere ashes to whiten the plain. 
 
 But boast, puny man, of your might while you 
 can, 
 Your slave will not always obey ; 
 
144 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Anon he will rise in revolt to the skies 
 And the earth shall be melted away ; 
 
 And the heavens shall roll themselves back like 
 a scroll, 
 The stars shall like stubble consume, 
 And firmaments shake with the thunders that 
 wake 
 When he shall his sceptre resume. 
 
PARI" III. 
 
 MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT, 
 
 lo 
 
Meditative and Reminiscent. 
 
 I. 
 
 IN MYSTERY. 
 
 SPEAK reverently of life. Thou knowest 
 this: 
 
 'Tis light; 'twas dark; 'twill soon be dark 
 again. 
 
 Thou knowest naught beyond. What forms, 
 perchance, 
 
 Thou may'st have borne ; what worlds in- 
 habited ; 
 
 What fancies entertained of life and truth, 
 
 Of duty, origin and destiny. 
 
 Before thou didst approach the mystic gate 
 
 Of birth, thou hast forgot. No sight, no sound, 
 
 No hint of knowledge gleaned from otherwhere 
 
148 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Canst thou recall to guide thy wanderings here. 
 The dark ! the light ! and then the dark again ! 
 This seest thou ; this only canst thou know. 
 
 Speak reverently of death. It is the door 
 Made for thy soul's escape, when flood, or flame, 
 Or time's all devastating hand shall tear 
 The temple down . It outward swings with ease. 
 'T is well it turns not back ; else might thy soul, 
 Thy fond and foolish soul, retrace its steps 
 And perish in the wreck. What memories 
 Of here and now, what scars from deeds mis- 
 done. 
 Or battles bravely fought, it hence shall bear. 
 Thou canst not tell. This only dost thou know : 
 It is the door through which thy soul must pass 
 To meet the possibilities beyond. 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 1 49 
 
 II. 
 
 THE HONEST MAN. 
 
 HONOR the houest man. Earth rears but 
 few. 
 Only at God's white forge are such souls 
 
 wrought. 
 Rare honest man ! His mind perchance sees 
 
 truth 
 In different forms from thine, yet honor him. 
 Perchance his vision thy dim sight transcends, 
 And what to thee appears sublime and sure 
 As the eternal hills, to him is but 
 A bubble in the air. Perchance when thou 
 Hast found the crystal spring whereof he drinks, 
 Thou, too, wilt quaff, and own the light divine. 
 
 Honor the man who brooks no evil art, 
 
 No sham, no counterfeit ; whose soul is pure 
 
150 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Within as fair without ; who humbly stands 
 Before the searching gaze of earth and heaven 
 For what he is ; whom angels guard and wait 
 With eager eye the signal to convoy 
 In safety to the skies ; who calm can face 
 The awful front of death, but will not break 
 His plighted troth with truth ; ay, honor him 
 And thus ennoble thine own struggling soul. 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 15I 
 
 III. 
 
 JUST ONE. 
 
 r\ BLEvSS the bright day 
 
 ^^ That brought you this way, 
 
 My rosy-cheeked lump of a girl, 
 
 With a cowlick right there 
 
 In the front of your hair. 
 Which your mother insists is a curl ! 
 
 Just one year is done 
 
 And another begun — 
 Just one, little daughter, just one. 
 
 These wonder-lit eyes, 
 
 Painted after the skies. 
 Or the autumn fringed gentian bright, 
 
 Have seen come and go 
 
 Just one winter's snow 
 And one summer's daisies of white ; 
 
152 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 One round of the risings 
 And settings of sun — 
 Just one, little daughter, just one. 
 
 Should these little hands fly 
 As unceasingl}^ 
 
 Through life as they now are inclined, 
 What a work they will do, 
 As the world you go through, 
 
 To help, or to hinder, mankind ! 
 One skein of the woof 
 Of a life they have spun — 
 
 Just one, little daughter, just one. 
 
 Who would venture to say 
 Where these feet may yet stray 
 
 As the seasons so swiftly speed by ; 
 For they ran far away, 
 Just one year to-day, 
 
 From their home in the beautiful sky? 
 One mile in return 
 They have already run — 
 
 Just one, little daughter, just one. 
 
MEDITATIVK AND REMINISCENT. 153 
 
 You have turned just a leaf 
 
 Of the gladness and grief 
 Of the book of our common life, 
 
 And the further you turn 
 
 The more you will learn 
 Of its trouble, and care, and strife ; 
 
 A single leaf done, 
 
 With blemishes none — 
 Not one, little daughter, not one. 
 
 Oh, ye oncoming years. 
 
 With your hopes and 5^our fears. 
 Be kind to our dear little one. 
 
 And bring her not in 
 
 More of sorrow or sin 
 Than the one that is done ; 
 
 For she's seen only one — 
 Just one, little daughter, just one. 
 
154 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 IV. 
 SERENADE. 
 
 O LEEP, beloved, sleep ! 
 
 ^ Guardian spirits vigil keep, — 
 Faithful prayers for thee ascending, 
 Friendly thoughts about thee blending. 
 Over thee the heavens bending, — 
 
 Sleep, beloved, sleep ! 
 
 Sleep, beloved, sleep ! 
 O'er no past let memory weep ; 
 Bid no anxious bodings borrow 
 From a dim, uncertain morrow 
 Anything of pain or sorrow ; 
 
 Sleep, beloved, sleep ! 
 
 Sleep, beloved, sleep ! 
 Trust thyself to slumbers deep ; 
 
MKDITATIVB AND REMINISCENT. 1 55 
 
 Slumber will to strength restore thee, 
 Strength will smooth the way before thee, 
 God's own stars are watching o'er thee, — 
 Sleep, beloved, sleep ! 
 
 Sleep, beloved, sleep ! 
 Softly now the shadows creep ; 
 May no troubled dreams o'ertake thee, 
 Nor night's peaceful calm forsake thee, 
 Till the songs of day awake thee ; 
 
 Sleep, beloved, sleep ! 
 
156 ' RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 V. 
 
 HIS FIRST PAIR. 
 
 /^ dance ! my child, as well you may, 
 ^-^ And clap your little hands for joy 
 We put you into pants to-day 
 And now you are indeed a bo}'. 
 
 No master with his slaves around, 
 
 No valet in a duke's employ, 
 No minister on foreign ground 
 
 Is half so proud as you, my boy ! 
 
 Indeed, you hardly deign to see 
 Your coat or ruffled Fauntleroy ; 
 
 What trifles are these all to thee ! 
 
 But pants — j^es, pants just take a boy ! 
 
 See ! pockets in them, I declare ! 
 With room for every cherished toy ; 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 1 57 
 
 The treasures of a millionaire 
 
 Are less than these to you, my boj*. 
 
 Fine clothes can never make a man 
 Though scores of tailors he employ ; 
 
 But who — deny it if you can, — 
 
 Who says that pants won't make a boy? 
 
 So dance, my darling, while you may, 
 And thus the blissful now enjoy ; 
 
 These pants will soon be laid away, 
 You cannot always be a boy. 
 
 This world you ' 11 find a hollow ball ; 
 
 Its riches vanish, pleasures cloy ; 
 Go suck the sweetness from them all, 
 
 The best is still your own my boy ! 
 
158 RANDOM RIMKS, 
 
 VI. 
 
 OUR BIRTHDAY. 
 
 /^^OME, m}^ baby, just a moment, 
 ^-^ Leave a little while your play, 
 lyay your head upon my shoulder ; 
 
 You and I were born to-day. 
 I, indeed, am looking backward 
 
 Loath to let the old year go ; 
 You, impatient for the future, 
 
 Wonder wh}^ it comes so slow. 
 
 I was once a child like you, dear, 
 
 Loved the things you love to-day ; 
 Soon your silken locks will silver 
 
 Just like mine with threads of gray. 
 Both of us are helpless creatures 
 
 Stranded on a rugged shore, 
 Six-and- thirty years I've been here — 
 
 You, my darling, only four. 
 
MEDITATIVK AND REMINISCENT. 1 59 
 
 Tell me, O ye wandering billows, 
 
 Of the one ye bore away, 
 Is she thinking, fondly thinking, 
 
 Of her little boy to-day ? 
 Is she watching still his footsteps ? 
 
 Tell, O tell me where, I pray ; 
 For 'twas long ago she left him, 
 
 Left her babe of four to-day. 
 
 So amid the gathering shadows 
 
 I am living memories o'er ; 
 Birthdays once were bright and joyous, 
 
 Key to every miagic store ; 
 Now they find me looking backward. 
 
 Back through recollection's door; 
 Time, grim warder, heeds my password — 
 
 Open sesame — no more. 
 
 See ! The rogue with shout and laughter 
 Hurls his playthings round the floor ! 
 
 Heaven protect and keep him ever 
 Pure and happy as at four. 
 
l6o RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 VII. 
 
 FOR A GOLDEN WEDDING. 
 
 YOU have sometimes watched the forests 
 * Put on their garments bright 
 Till they stood, as it were, transfigured 
 
 In autumn's mellow light ; 
 There were crimson and gold on hillside, 
 
 And scarlet and gold in glen — 
 The roses of June were hueless 
 
 Compared to the glory then. 
 
 You have sometimes watched the sunset 
 
 Light up the western skies 
 Till vision of forms supernal 
 
 Appeared to your mortal eyes ; 
 There were radiant cloud-ships sailing 
 
 Upon a sea of gold — 
 Almost you could make the harbor 
 
 And the City of Light behold. 
 
MKDITATIVK AND RKMINISCKNT. l6l 
 
 Thus may benignant Heaven 
 
 Crown each succeeding year 
 With higher, hoHer pleasures 
 
 Through all your sojourn here ; 
 And be these blest illusions, 
 
 So kindly .sent to view, 
 An earnest of the future 
 
 That waits in store for you. 
 
 ij 
 
1 62 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 A FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY. 
 
 jy /I ORNING is beauteous, bright and gay, 
 ^ ' * And noontide exults in power. 
 But the golden glor}^ that crowns the day 
 Comes not till the sunset hour. 
 
 Spring-time with gladness her verdure weaves, 
 And summer in bloom is dressed. 
 
 But the autumn leaves and the harvest sheaves 
 Are grander than all the rest. 
 
 And while the bosom with rapture thrills 
 At thoughts of the morning bright, 
 
 You are looking away to the western hills. 
 And watching the gates of light. 
 
 While true to the heart fond memory fain 
 Holds fast to the buds and bloom. 
 
me:ditative; and reminiscknt. 163 
 
 Your arms are filled with the golden grain 
 Awaiting the harvest home. 
 
 May the Father grant that you long may wait 
 
 The joy of the earth to share, 
 Unparted go up to the heavenly gate, 
 
 Together enter there. 
 
164 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 IX. 
 
 TO WHITTIKR. 
 
 (On reading his I,ife aud Ivetters.") 
 
 O SPOTLESS soul, thy life was so divine, 
 So hallowed every place became by thee, 
 New England now is freedom's Palestine, 
 Its every lake a blessed Galilee ! 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 1 65 
 
 X. 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 CHILD of the Morning Stars ! Sister of 
 I.ight ! 
 Spirit of joy for worlds unnumbered given ! 
 She stoops to earth, in her all-conquering flight, 
 And soars at will with captive souls to heaven. 
 
1 66 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 XI. 
 
 FORGIVENESS. 
 
 IT is sweet to forgive. Hast thou proved it 
 ^ The glad benediction that steals 
 Through the heart b}^ ingratitude wounded 
 
 But which only benignity feels ? 
 Hast thou read the assurance eternal, 
 
 Star- written all over the skies : 
 "The being forgiven may perish, 
 
 But the one that forgives never dies?^' 
 
 It is grand to forgive. Hast thou felt it — 
 
 The thrilling expansion of soul 
 As it mounts like an eagle to regions 
 
 Beyond every tempter's control? 
 The sordid earth shriveled beneath thee 
 
 Till it seemed, in the distance o'erpast. 
 As harmless and inconsequential 
 
 As an autumn leaf swept by the blast. 
 
MKDITATIVK AND RKMINISCENT. 1 67 
 
 It is just to forgive. Thy offences 
 
 Against the All-holy, All-true, 
 Leave lenience toward thine offender 
 
 The least pledge of penitence due. 
 It is naught that thy spirit is shriven 
 
 And suffered in safety to live ; 
 The meagerest souls are forgiven, 
 
 But only the God-like forgive. 
 
 It is time to forgive. Life is fleeting 
 
 Too fast to be wasted in hate ; 
 Opportunities yesterday slighted 
 
 To-da}^ are remembered too late. 
 Revenge is the cry of perdition. 
 
 Of soul degradation and loss ; 
 Forgiveness, the watchword of heaven 
 
 And its symbol on earth is the cross. 
 
RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 XII. 
 
 GRANDEUR. 
 
 'T^HERK is grandeur in the mountains 
 
 Towering to the vaulted sky, 
 Standing in majestic silence 
 
 As the restless clouds go by ; 
 Grandeur as the purpling sunset 
 
 Its unstinted gold out- spreads 
 Until diadems of opal 
 
 Burn upon their kingly heads. 
 
 There is grandeur in the ocean — 
 
 Grandeur in the rhythmic roar 
 Of the monotonic measures 
 
 It is chanting evermore ; 
 Grandeur in its mad endeavor 
 
 To o'er- leap its prison bars, 
 Or to grasp and hold forever 
 
 In its arms the beaming stars. 
 
MKDITATIVK AND REMINISCKNT. 1 69 
 
 There is grandeur in the heavens 
 
 When the world is wrapt in night, 
 And emblazoned hosts assembling 
 
 Throng the empyrean height ; 
 Grandeur as each radiant chieftain 
 
 Wheels his cohorts into view, 
 Marching with the mighty legions 
 
 On the boundless field of blue. 
 
 But the grandeur of the mountains, 
 
 And the grandeur of the sea, 
 And the grandeur of the heavens 
 
 Seem like nothing unto me 
 When I see a soul def3dng 
 
 Calumny's insidious breath, 
 Calmly on the truth relying 
 
 For defense in face of death. 
 
170 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 THANKSGIVING. 
 
 POR another bounteous harvest 
 •*■ Gathered in from hill and plain ; 
 For the fruit of burdened orchards, 
 
 And a wealth of golden grain ; 
 For our flocks and herds home-turning ; 
 
 For the treasures of the mine ; 
 For the song of loom and hammer, — 
 
 Praise, oh praise the Hand Divine ! 
 
 For the all-surrounding grandeur 
 
 Of the seasons circling by, 
 From the flower-flecked vales beneath us 
 
 To the stars that gem the sky, 
 From the first bird- note of spring-time 
 
 Till the dark-robed, pensive pine 
 Plains the winter's parting requiem, — 
 
 Praise, oh praise the Hand Divine ! 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 171 
 
 For the mountains, and the forests, 
 
 And the brooklets bounding free ; 
 For the rivers rolUng seaward, 
 
 And the great untiring sea ; 
 For the sheen of dawn and sunset, 
 
 And Jehovah's faithful sign 
 Of remembrance on the storm-cloud, — 
 
 Praise, oh praise the Hand Divine ! 
 
 For the home, and for the home- land, 
 
 Wherein fortune gave us birth ; 
 For the Fatherhood of heaven, 
 
 And the brotherhood of earth ; 
 For our larger faith and freedom, 
 
 And that sympathy benign 
 Binding heart to heart forever, — 
 
 Praise, oh praise the Hand Divine ! 
 
 For the whisperings of angels 
 
 Calling every struggling soul 
 Unto heights whereon temptation 
 
 Nevermore may gain control ; 
 For the light that leads our spirits 
 
 To the highest, holiest shrine. 
 And for ladders stretching starward, — 
 
 Praise, oh praise the Hand Divine ! 
 
172 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 AT BETHI.KHKM. 
 
 T ET us sing of the Babe that was born to-day 
 
 ■*— ' Mid the mountains of old Judea, 
 
 With only the shepherds and wandering flocks 
 
 To welcome his coming there ; 
 But the angels chorused it through the sky, 
 
 And the stars to behold him ran, 
 And one in its rapture lingered nigh 
 
 To mark out the spot for man. 
 
 Oh, sing of the Babe that was born to-day, 
 
 For the world had been wrapt in night, 
 And the burdened and weary had lost their way 
 
 And were groping in vain for light ! 
 But it came, O joy ! and with power^to save ; 
 
 It came by a manger given. 
 And it banished forever the gloom of the grave 
 
 And lighted the path to heaven. 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 1 73 
 
 Yes, sing of the Babe that was born to-day, 
 
 And earth take up the strain. 
 The wonderful strain of long ago, 
 
 That swept the star- lit plain. 
 "Glory to God," ye mountains, cry. 
 
 Till from their farthest shore 
 The deep-mouthed oceans make reply, 
 
 ' ' Glory forevermore ! ' ' 
 
 [earth!" 
 "And peace on earth." Aye! "Peace on 
 
 Above the clashing sword. 
 And shout and groan, in din of death. 
 
 Still let that voice be heard. 
 Sing on, glad angels ! Shine, O star ! 
 
 Nor dare your vigil cease 
 Till o'er the final field of war 
 
 Shall wave the palms of peace ! 
 
 O kingly head, that found no rest 
 
 Save in a manger low ! 
 O sinless head, whereon was pressed 
 
 The world's thorn-crown of woe ! 
 Now wearest thou thy crown of light. 
 
 And brighter stars than gem 
 
174 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 The amethystine arch of night 
 Adorn that diadem. 
 
 And circUng ages dim it not ; 
 
 When every gUttering crown 
 And song of earth have been forgot, 
 
 And thrones have crumbled down, 
 One crown shall still resplendent gleam, 
 
 One throne feel no deca}^, 
 One song — the song at Bethlehem — 
 
 Shall never die away. 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 1 75 
 
 XV. 
 
 AN EASTER THOUGHT. 
 
 ARISE, O Christ, arise ! 
 The world has waited long 
 Beneath the unrelenting rod 
 
 Of ignorance and wrong ; 
 Arise, and let thy truth benign 
 Fill every land with light divine 
 And every soul with song. 
 
 Arise, O Christ, arise ! 
 
 In arms the nations stand 
 Ready to close in deadly strife 
 
 At tyranny's command ; 
 Their ironclads in grim array 
 Defiantly invite affray 
 
 By every sobbing strand. 
 
176 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Arise, O Christ, arise ! 
 
 Behold the suffering poor ; 
 Lo, Dives banquets as of old 
 
 With I^azarus at the door ; 
 That one may sport in purple dress 
 Ten thousand toil in wretchedness, 
 
 Ten thousand want endure. 
 
 Arise, O Christ, arise 
 
 And bid oppression cease ! 
 Let the imperious eagle die, 
 
 The blessed dove increase 
 That she may bring to struggling men, 
 O'er all the waste of earth again. 
 
 The olive branch of peace. 
 
MKDITATIVK AND RKMINISCENT. 1 77 
 
 XVI. 
 
 I.IBKRTY. 
 
 DEST of man's possessions here, 
 ^ Guarded most with jealous fear, 
 Dear to all, supremely dear, 
 
 Is liberty. 
 
 Wealth may wait in rich array, 
 1^0 ve its magic charms display. 
 Fame invite the soul away 
 
 From libert}^; 
 
 Man will spurn them all, and dare 
 Destitution and despair 
 Rather than the shackles wear 
 
 Of slaver}^ 
 
178 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Freedom ! List the clarion cry ! 
 Hark ! The echoing hills reply, 
 * ' Name him not who would not die 
 For liberty. ' 
 
 Let the tide of battle pour, 
 Let the awful cannon roar, 
 Lay the dead at every door 
 
 For liberty ! 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 1 79 
 
 XVII. 
 
 DECORATION DAY. 
 
 |\ ] OT for the dead alone this day we cherish ; 
 ^ ^ For all our brave deserve as well 
 As those who in the conflict fell, — 
 Each risked his all, — no one could tell 
 Which was to perish. 
 
 Not for the dead alone we bring these flowers ; 
 But for their parents bowed with years, 
 Their children whom this day endears, 
 For wives and sisters yet in tears — 
 Their griefs are ours. 
 
 Not for the dead alone these ensigns gory ; 
 But to impress on every eye 
 At what a cost we still may fly 
 That fabric fashioned from the sky — 
 Our nation's glory ! 
 
l8o • RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Not for the dead alone the drums are beating 
 But Hstening ears shall catch the strain 
 And comrades join the sad refrain 
 Till heart to heart shall beat again 
 In solemn greeting. 
 
 Not for the dead alone commemoration ; 
 But that our sons be taught to-day 
 The price their fathers had to pay 
 To keep and unto them convey 
 This mighty nation. 
 
 Not for the dead alone — Ah ! truly not ; 
 But for an object lesson grand 
 That all the world may understand 
 The valiant saviours of this land 
 Are not forgot ! 
 
MKDITATIVK AND REMINISCENT. iSl 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 ADORATION. 
 
 pTERNAL One, whose all- controlling power 
 "'— ' Pervades immensity, whose hands brought 
 
 forth 
 The countless worlds that roll above our heads 
 And caused this changeful sphere, whereon we 
 
 dwell, 
 To thrill with life and love — for Thee we call. 
 Where art Thou? Whither in all thy vast 
 
 domain, 
 Earth, ocean, air, or boundless space beyond, 
 Shall we direct our cry ? Where is thy home ? 
 We look around, above, below, on all 
 Thy marvelous handiwork, but see Thee not. 
 We call and, listening, wait. The friendly hills 
 Repeat unto the skies our cry, but comes 
 No answering voice save the low-sighing wind, 
 
1 82 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 The whispering leaf, the murmuring brook. 
 
 Unseen, 
 Unheard, unknown, excepting to the soul's 
 Quick sense, we worship Thee. 
 
 Nor can we less ; 
 For lo, the very grass which clothes the hills, 
 The beauteous blooms that star the vales be- 
 tween, 
 The blitheful birds, thy choristers of joy, 
 The golden sunshine and the gentle rain 
 Evince thy kindly care. While clearer yet 
 The forests grand that girt the mountains round, 
 The mountains crystal-crowned among the 
 
 clouds. 
 The mighty deep forever struggling on 
 In frantic effort to o'erleap its bounds. 
 The earthquake, lightning- flash and meteor 
 Proclaim thy majest3^ 
 
 Thou changest not. 
 Before thy sight the myriad tribes of earth, 
 lyike shadowy forms upon the canvas thrown, 
 Appear and fade away. The earth itself 
 
MKDITATIVB AND REMINISCENT. 1 83 
 
 Grows old, and soon to other worlds wnll yield 
 Its place, which in their turn, for a brief hour, 
 Successively will claim thy guardian care, 
 Will feel the warmth, the quickening thrill of 
 
 life. 
 Beneath the kisses of some glowing sun, 
 Then, like their predecessors, disappear 
 And mingle with the unreturning past. 
 
 Spirit Omnipotent, we know Thee not ; 
 
 Yet to each finite mind dost Thou appear 
 
 According to the measure of its power. 
 
 Eternity, that term by man devised 
 
 To span his utmost stretch of thought, suggests 
 
 But faintly unto him thine endless days. 
 
 Infinitude, the star- filled space past whose 
 
 Domain imagination may not sweep. 
 
 Is lost among the millions like itself 
 
 In thy illimitable realm. 
 
 We know Thee not. Yet all the mind can grasp 
 
 Of goodness, greatness, wisdom, love and power, 
 
 It groups in personality supreme 
 
 And calls it God. All that the soul can dream 
 
1 84 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 Of fadeless glory and unending joy 
 
 It pictures to itself as Thine abode 
 
 And calls it heaven. With all the heart can 
 
 feel 
 Of self- forgetting loyalty and love, 
 Of sweet devotion, and unfaltering trust, 
 It peoples that glad place with beings pure 
 And calls them spirits ministrant. With all 
 The strength of heart and mind and soul, with 
 
 all 
 The earnestness of conscious need, we lift 
 Our struggling hopes to that Supremest 
 
 Thought, 
 And call it praj-er. 
 
 O what is man that he 
 Should boldly dare dictate to Deity, 
 Or blind suggestions proffer unto Him 
 Who made the perfect plan ? O what is man ? 
 A ray shot forth from the Eternal Light, 
 Which, parted from its origin divine. 
 Contends alone an instant with the dark 
 And disappears. And what is life ? A breath, 
 A conscious glance between two unexplored 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 1 85 
 
 Eternities. A flash which cleaves the night 
 
 To give us glimpses of thy marvelous works, 
 
 And of the operations of those laws, 
 
 Which, acting now, were acting ere the dawn 
 
 Of time, and shall immutably go on 
 
 Till, world by world, the universe has rolled 
 
 Itself away, and been resolved to naught. 
 
 O wondrous laws ! incomprehensible. 
 
 Eternal, infinite ! Inscribed above 
 
 On every star and on each crystal drop 
 
 Of dew that gems the morn ! O wondrous care, 
 
 Which guides unerringly the flight of worlds, 
 
 And heeds with equal thought a sparrow's fall ! 
 
 O for a deeper sight, a broader view. 
 For clearer light by which the eye may pierce 
 The pathless realms that wait on every hand ! 
 O for more time to slake this feverish thirst 
 Of soul — more time to watch, and vStrive, and 
 
 •learn — 
 To delve into the secret vaults of earth. 
 To rend the rocks and read the records there 
 Writ by the Hand Divine before the eye 
 Of man had been contrived ; to penetrate 
 
1 86 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 The silent dome of night and tidings bring 
 From every circling star ; to break the seals 
 Wherein are hid the mysteries of life, 
 And comprehend the subtle alchemy 
 By which the same kind earth and fostering sun 
 Bring forth alike the upas and the palm ; 
 To understand the dawnings of the mind, 
 And where are forged those links of matchless 
 
 strength 
 By which one heart is to another bound, 
 Which time, nor space, nor circumstance can 
 
 change, 
 Which span the grave and bid us hope that there 
 The spirit, like a bird set free, may joy 
 To mount above its limitations here 
 And find, mid life ineffable, the loved 
 And lost of earth ! 
 
 O rapturous thought that yet 
 For us there may be time that ceases not ; 
 For us the wonders of the realms invisible ; 
 For us to gather up the broken strands 
 Of hope, and with each faculty of soul 
 Exalted to the height of spirit sense. 
 
MKDITATIVK AND REMINISCENT. 1 87 
 
 Behold the doubts and mysteries of earth 
 Dissolve like darkness at the touch of day, 
 And trace, with reverent gratitude for all, 
 Our origin and destiny, O Thou 
 Omniscient, all-sustaining One, to Thee ! 
 
1 88 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 XIX. 
 A TRIBUTE. 
 
 Al\ Y aged friend, the years have come and gone 
 ^ ' ^ Till now the hundredth stands before thy 
 door. 
 
 bid him in, nor let him hasten on ; 
 
 A welcome waits, please God, for many more ! 
 
 They throng thee now, since thou so much hast 
 done 
 
 To bless the pilgrim years gone on before. 
 Beggars they come ; thou greetest every one 
 
 As if he were a king and purple wore. 
 
 1 see them — lo ! a long line stretching on 
 Into the shadowy distance of the past ; 
 
 Each bears some cherished work thy hands have 
 done, 
 Some gracious message treasured to the last. 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 1 89 
 
 Thus do they honor thee. Nor less than they 
 Would we in turn our glad devotion prove ; 
 
 Thy faithfulness our hearts would fain repay 
 In filial care, and sympathy, and love. 
 
 'Twere joy to live, like thee, endeared to all ; 
 
 To walk unscathed howe'er hate's shafts are 
 hurled ; 
 To feel upon one's silvered temples fall 
 
 The benedictions of a grateful world. 
 
 'Twere joy to trust, like thee, the Hand Su- 
 preme ; 
 
 'Twill hold thee in its love forevermore ; 
 Thy feet shall scarcely brush the mystic stream 
 
 Whose waters lave the amaranthine shore. 
 
I go RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 XX. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 P LESH cannot always bide the stress of years. 
 ^ Howe'er delayed, the call 
 That summons souls of earth to unknown 
 spheres 
 Will come to all. 
 
 The mighty oak, whose roots have grappled fast 
 
 The mountain's base below. 
 Whose branches bid defiance to the blast, 
 
 Must yet lie low. 
 
 The eternal hills, upon whose heights sublime 
 
 Unceasing sunsets play, 
 Are only foam-capped waves the breath of time 
 
 Will sweep away. 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 191 
 
 Friendship shall still endure. This cannot die ; 
 
 For 'tis a thing divine, — 
 And it will glow when e'en the stars on high 
 
 Forget to shine ! 
 
192 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 A SAINTED MOTHER. 
 
 DEST, weary one, thy tasks are done ; 
 *^ Life's work, long since so well begun, 
 
 Is now complete ; 
 Rest, over- toiling hand and brain, 
 Rest, faithful heart, from care and pain, 
 
 Rest, willing feet. 
 
 How swift the days of life flit by ! 
 
 How soon the shades of death draw nigh 
 
 Which none may flee ! 
 The longest lives so quickly glide 
 They 're but a point when viewed beside 
 
 Eternity. 
 
 O Thou who wast her only stay 
 And guide through earth's uncertain way 
 To realms above, 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 1 93 
 
 Show now unto her loved ones here, 
 To whom the world looks dark and drear, 
 Thy mother- love. 
 
 Teach them Thy guardian tenderness, 
 Which yearns their aching hearts to bless, 
 
 So freely given. 
 That e'en in sorrow they may trace 
 The benedictions of Thy grace, 
 
 As sweet as heaven. 
 
 And may her footprints glowing bright 
 Point out, like indices of light, 
 
 The heavenward way, 
 To guide each dear one, till at last 
 They all have reached and safely passed 
 
 The Gates of Day. 
 
 13 
 
194 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 Read at the Memorial Service of Dr. D. B. W. 
 Worcester, Mass., May 8, 1895. 
 
 'T'HIS hour is sacred time. 
 * From devious ways we gather here 
 To lay our garlands on the bier 
 Of one we love ; and drop the tear 
 Of sympathy with all who hold him dear, — 
 'Tis sacred time. 
 
 O Death ! Mysterious Death ! 
 Thy legions liveried in white 
 Elude all stress of mortal sight ; 
 We cannot trace the spirit's flight, 
 Nor guess what visions may beset the night, 
 Mysterious Death ! 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 1 95 
 
 O Death ! Revengeful Death ! 
 Methinks it was that thou didst see 
 Our friend a fearless enemj^ 
 Who oft, so oft, had baffled thee 
 That now his fall thou gloatest o'er with glee, 
 Revengeful Death ! 
 
 But, Death, thy work is done. 
 Thou canst not mar his spotless name, 
 Nor seize his meed of honest fame, 
 Nor track the soul's immortal flame 
 Back to the Sun Eternal, whence it came, — 
 Thy work is done. 
 
 And yet, perchance, 'twas kind; 
 For it hath set him free to share 
 Immunity from every care. 
 And pain, and loss which mortals bear — 
 Free, like the stars, in God's supernal air — 
 Perchance 'twas kind. 
 
 But, oh ! we miss him here. 
 The years will circle on apace. 
 But one familiar voice, and face 
 
196 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Bright with benignity and grace, 
 Greet us no more from his accustomed place ; 
 We miss him here. 
 
 Dear friend ! we'll not forget. 
 There was so much of the divine 
 Commingled with this dust of thine 
 That e'en its resting place benign 
 Doth now become faith's well-befitting shrine 
 We'll not forget. 
 
 Live on, O loyal heart ! 
 Thy friends will never let thee die 
 While love retaineth memory ; 
 Virtue is heir to earth and sky, 
 And lo ! she pledgeth immortality ; 
 Brave soul, live on ! 
 
 And we shall meet again. 
 Silently journeying, one by one, 
 After the labors of day are done, 
 We'll meet thee at the setting sun. 
 Be there, O friend, as wide its gates are flung,— 
 We'll meet again. 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 1 97 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 MY BEAUTIFUL DEAD. 
 
 OH ! how can I leave thee, my beautiful dead, 
 Pillowed so sweetly there 
 In the midst of the luster and fragrance shed 
 By blossoms fresh and fair? 
 The brightest of buds, and the best perfumed, 
 
 Are fittest to grace thy brow ; 
 For the sweetest flower that ever bloomed 
 Is the one they garland now. 
 
 How can I spare thee, my beautiful dead, 
 
 Life's labors just begun, 
 And time had not yet a silvery thread 
 
 In thy dark tresses spun? 
 The roses of youth, in thy face, I see 
 
 Now changed to lilies white, 
 
198 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 And the fallen lashes have hid from me 
 Their gems of loving light. 
 
 How can I live when my beautiful dead 
 
 Is borne from sight away — 
 When the last, sad, comfortless words are said 
 
 Over this lifeless clay ? 
 The long, lone years through their cycles will 
 run. 
 
 But life will be incomplete ; 
 For the wide world holds not another one 
 
 So loyal, and pure, and sweet. 
 
 O spirit blest, of my beautiful dead, 
 
 Ivinger in pity here. 
 That my soul may feel, in the gloom ahead, 
 
 Thy precious presence near ! 
 Hast thou found a country where pleasures 
 sweet 
 
 Have permanent abode, 
 O lead, through the dark, my faltering feet 
 
 To find its starlit road ! 
 
MKDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 1 99 
 
 XXIV. 
 GETHSEMANE. 
 
 A LONE in the garden, alone! 
 '*' So suffered the Christ in his woe, 
 And so unto all 
 Comes the ultimate call 
 Like him in the garden to go. 
 
 Alone in the garden, alone! 
 
 Like him we may struggle and pray 
 
 For help and relief 
 
 From our imminent grief, — 
 
 Grief ne'er to be taken awa3^ 
 
 Alone in the garden, alone ! 
 
 The world is impatient to share 
 
 Our pleasure and ease ; 
 
 But nobody sees 
 
 The thorns in the crown that we wear. 
 
200 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Alone in the garden, alone! 
 
 We clasp our heart's treasures to-da}^, 
 
 To-morrow bereft, 
 
 In loneliness left, 
 
 Those treasures are taken away. 
 
 Alone in the garden, alone ! 
 
 Kind friends may our sorrows deplore 
 
 Their tears are in vain 
 
 The losses remain, 
 
 No pity can ever restore. 
 
 Alone in the garden, alone! 
 
 The cross and the tomb just ahead, 
 
 And each must respond 
 
 To the summons beyond — 
 
 No other can go in his stead. 
 
 Alone in the garden, alone! 
 
 So help us at last to be brave, 
 
 For the mightiest shrink 
 
 At eternitj^'s brink, 
 
 And pale at its portal — the grave. 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 20I 
 
 XXV. 
 
 SLEEP. 
 
 'T is a consummation devoutly to be wished. 
 
 O TlEIy we linger on, 
 ^ Only God knows why ; 
 Who, when hope is gone, 
 Has not longed to die ? 
 Who would tarry here. 
 Tarry but to weep. 
 When retreat is near. 
 Beckoning to sleep? 
 
 Life is trial sore, 
 Trial old and new ; 
 Death, a friendly door 
 Opening to view. 
 He who lives endures 
 
202 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Sorrow, want, and pain ; 
 He who dies insures 
 Rest — immortal gain. 
 
 I<ike a tired child, 
 On its mother's breast, 
 Never reconciled 
 Unto needful rest, 
 So we fret the day 
 Kindly shadows creep — 
 Fret — and drop away 
 Into dreamless sleep. 
 
MEDITATIVK AND REMINISCENT. 203 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 UNDER THE SNOW. 
 
 UNDER the snow the flowers are sleeping, 
 Wrapt snugly up in their coverlet warm, 
 Vainly above them the wild winds are sweeping. 
 Vain the rude threats of the tempest and storm ; 
 Dropt are their dresses of emerald brightness, 
 Dofied the bright mantles the summer times 
 
 bring. 
 Sweetly they rest 'neath the sheltering white- 
 ness 
 Waiting the call of the zephyrs of spring. 
 
 Under the snow the brooklets are flowing, 
 Murmuring ever in soft, muffled tones, 
 Steadily on to the great ocean going, 
 Ice-bound and jostled o'er pitfalls and stones ; 
 
204 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Gone are the flowers that blushed at their 
 
 coming, 
 Gone the glad birds that delighted the way, 
 Blindly they grope through their dark channels 
 
 humming 
 Plaintive appeals for the sunlight of day. 
 
 Under the snow, and under the flowers, 
 Down where the tireless rivulets glide, 
 Slumber in silence those loved ones of ours. 
 Waiting for us to lie down by their side ; 
 Closed are the eyes which once thrilled us with 
 
 pleasure, 
 Mute the pale lips we have fers^ently pressed, 
 Folded the hands— they have finished their labor, 
 Journey ings ended, the weary feet rest. 
 
 Under the snow — O wonderful slumber ! 
 Parents and children in peaceful repose, 
 Brothers and sisters, and friends without number , 
 Waiting some signal which God only knows. 
 Wonderful shelter the sleepers are sharing. 
 Fashioned far up on the looms of the sky, 
 White as the raiment the angels are wearing, 
 Pure as the souls of the blessed on high ! 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 205 
 
 W 
 
 XXVII. 
 RELIEF. 
 
 HY dread the grave? The setting sun, 
 Delighted that his course is run, 
 
 Smiles from the west, 
 And gilding all the cloud- flecked height 
 With matchless tints of rosy light, 
 He draws the curtains of the night 
 
 And seeks his rest. 
 
 Why dread the grave ? The lingering leaf 
 Of autumn shows no sign of grief 
 
 That it must fall. 
 But flitting, dancing, eddying round, 
 Responsive to each joyful sound, 
 It finds at last upon the ground 
 
 The goal of all. 
 
206 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 Why dread the grave ? Is life so dear 
 That thou wouldst always linger here 
 
 Oppressed with care, 
 When just within a sheltering door 
 Wait thee the millions gone before, 
 And soon shall countless millions more 
 
 Be gathered there ? 
 
 Why dread the grave? Thy scanty gain 
 Earth's glaring furnaces of pain 
 
 Will soon destroy ; 
 Release from danger and distress. 
 From hunger, cold and weariness. 
 From disappointment and duress, 
 
 Is highest joy ! 
 
 Why dread the grave ? The darkness there, 
 Toward which thy wandering footsteps fare, 
 
 Is not more drear 
 Than that which fills the vast abyss 
 Of worlds forgot, preceding this, 
 Wherein thy path thou didst not miss 
 
 In journeying here. 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 207 
 
 Why dread the grave ? Full well I know- 
 Its walls are chill, its roof is low, 
 
 Its door is fast ; 
 And yet those chambers, still and deep, 
 Guard well their tenants' peaceful sleep, 
 Howe'er so hard above ma}^ sweep 
 
 The biting blast. 
 
 Why dread the grave ? Each spring-time fair 
 Shall with new robes of beauty rare 
 
 Thy form inclose ; 
 For thee, at blush of morning bright, 
 The birds will carol their delight. 
 And God's own stars shall watch by night 
 
 Thy sweet repose. 
 
 Why dread the grave ? 'T is but the rest 
 Of childhood on its mother's breast. 
 
 Which claims thy stay. 
 There one by one we all shall lie, 
 And over us the bending sky 
 Will croon its softest lullaby 
 
 Till breaks the day ! 
 
208 RANDOM RIMKS. 
 
 O friendly grave ! O slumber sweet ! 
 The sure, the safe, the sole retreat 
 
 From pain and grief ! 
 O weary one — it matters not 
 From throne or dungeon, hall or cot 
 Here find thy troubles all forgot 
 
 In blest relief ! 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 209 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 THE CITY OF PEACE. 
 
 /^N yonder lone hill stands the City of Peace, 
 
 ^^ And among the dark foliage there 
 
 I can see its white spires and glittering domes 
 
 Gleam forth through the still evening air. 
 It has beautiful avenues stretching afar, 
 
 And many a cross-running street, 
 But no sound of horseman, nor rumble of car, 
 
 Nor din of on-hurrying feet. 
 
 [Peace, 
 There's a wide granite wall round the City of 
 
 And its iron gates guard every way ; 
 But no one outside seeks to enter therein, 
 
 Nor would any within go astray. 
 Sweet flowers abound. By mansion and cot 
 
 The roses and violets blow. 
 And yet the inhabitants gather them not 
 
 To wear on their bosoms of snow. 
 14 
 
2IO RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 There are numberless forms in the City of Peace 
 
 Which childhood might claim as its own ; 
 But no rippling laughter, no voices of glee, 
 
 Resound through those houses of stone. 
 No toys unremembered the corridors fill, 
 
 No need of a guardian's care ; [and still, 
 For the dimpled white hands are now folded 
 
 And none are disturbed by them there. 
 
 There are those from mid-life in the City of 
 Peace, 
 
 Fair women and brave-hearted men. 
 With hand from the plowshare, the workshop, 
 the mart, 
 
 The chisel, the brush and the pen. 
 All are there, but no clangor of anvil or loom 
 
 Outwearies the sun's waning light, 
 No glimmer of dim study- lamp with the gloom 
 
 Contends through the watches of night. 
 
 The aged are there in the City of Peace ; 
 
 Their thin locks were whitened with grief, 
 And their shoulders bent low by the burdens of 
 care 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 211 
 
 They had borne ere they found their relief. 
 They are there, but their pains and their sor- 
 rows are gone, 
 At the gates of the city they sped, 
 And the staff and the crutch they had once 
 leaned upon 
 Have been left with the ills that are fled. 
 
 They grow old no more in the City of Peace, 
 
 The seasons of bloom and of snow 
 In rapid succession alternately come 
 
 Disarmed of each weapon of woe. 
 They murmur no more. No discords appear 
 
 To mar the serene of that spot. 
 Where those who had striven in enmity here 
 
 Have all of their strivings forgot. 
 
 No scepter is known in the City of Peace, 
 
 Distinctions no longer divide ; 
 But pontiff and peasant, and beggar and king. 
 
 In changeless equality bide. 
 The same kindly earth folds them fast to her 
 breast. 
 
 The same gentle dews nightly fall, 
 
212 RANDOM RIMES. 
 
 The same zephyrs hill them to untroubled rest, 
 And the same loving skies over all. 
 
 No watchmen of earth walk the City of Peace, 
 
 But the angels of God gather there, 
 And bending in love over each lowly bed 
 
 They guard it with tenderest care. • 
 And while these yet linger new legions draw 
 nigh, 
 
 I^est the sleepers might waken alone, 
 And thus to and fro they unceasingly fly 
 
 'Twixt the City of Peace and the Throne. 
 
 They are waiting for us in the City of Peace, 
 
 And, whithersoever we fare, 
 We shall ne'er find a pathway which leads not 
 at last 
 
 With unerring certainty there. 
 They are waiting for us. We are hastening on. 
 
 Each eventide brings us more near 
 The shadowy portals through which those have 
 gone 
 
 Whom we miss in our journey ings here. 
 
MEDITATIVE AND REMINISCENT. 21 3 
 
 O silent, O wonderful City of Peace, 
 
 God's outlying villa of rest, 
 Where He calls all His children to give them 
 release 
 
 From the toils that their lives have oppressed ! 
 O city coeval with time in its birth, 
 
 And the last yet to be overthrown. 
 The gathering place of the millions of earth, 
 
 The seaport for countries unknown ! 
 
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1 IBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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