i / LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. vS^S^ Chap.. ..:.__. Copyright No. ShelL__.y._4:7SG UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. "STEP FORWARD IN THE CAR." H, many things in city life You meet with every day. Amid its pleasures and its strife. That range from grave to gay. But 'mongst the queerest, strangest things That on my feelings jar 38 SONGS AKD ROMAN^CES. Is when the car conductor rings His bell, and then so loudly sings : **Step forward in the car!" You see the market buyers, and You feel like jumping out, But, hustling in, the merry band Puts feelings all to rout. Their baskets, filled with meats and things, All passengers they bar. And then the car conductor rings His bell, and, oh, so merrily sings : ** Step forward in the car!" You start for church on Sunday. Oh, The excursionists are there. In fact you'll find though far you go Excursions everywhere. So, musing on discordant strings — 111 fate — unlucky star — You're startled ! The conductor rings His bell, and then so cheerily siags : "Step forward in the car!" A short, stout woman. Mild blue eyes! A full car ! Oh, that strap She cannot reach. A strange surprise ! A jolt! She's in your lap! SONGS AiN"D ROMAls^CES. 39 And neighboring ladies look such things ! A laugh would shock or mar ! And then the car conductor rings His bell, and louder, louder sings : "Step forward in the car!" A car is full. We start along, Home comfort to infuse. The women stand — the gents, a throng Sit reading Evening News But Mohawk street more people brings — The babes and parcels mar All joy. The car conductor rings His bell, and sternly, sternly sings : *'Step forward in the car!" But watch the down town cars for fun When girls a-shopping go. And evening's rush has just begun — At five o'clock or so. You're squeezed. A blush on crimson wings Comes gently from afar. And then the car conductor rings His bell, and laughingly he sings: "Step forward in the car!" Buffalo, November, 1895. 40 SOXGS AXD ROMANCES. ©" AT THE FERRY. THE lake there's a beautiful curtain Of mist, that looks grand as we view it ; On the river a sparkle and shimmer, As if waves saw Spring smiling through it; There are murmuring sounds in the air, A dancing of ripples quite merry ; The morning is bright and most fair; A scene of delight at the Ferry. On the lake there's no longer a mountain Of waves that toss ships till they're stranded — Over there is where ships were engulfed — Their mariners never were landed ; Ah, the toss of the waves and their thunder, The winds dashing down the doomed wherry, Till escape to the land is a wonder — As viewed from the pier at the Ferry. But the scenes of the Spring and the Summer, Are peaceful and joyous and jolly; Patiently fishermen bait all the day; At evening they laugh at their folly. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 41 Joyous excursionists leaving the pier, Or, crossing the river, make merry, While bands, playing music deliciously clear, Enhances the scene at the Ferry. Buffalo, February 28, 1898. A MILD ECSTATIC FEELING. 0" THIS soft and sunny weather. When the birds begin to gather, And the snow along the borders has melted all away, And the ice upon the river Does not now suggest a shiver. There's a languorous sort of feeling stealing o'er me every day. I wake from dreams in morning, All work and worry scorning, And feel a kind of stupor that is pleasure more than pain, While a mild ecstatic feeling Comes stealing, stealing, stealing, And off I drift to dreamland again and yet again. 42 SONGS AND ROMAls^CES. There's a sail a-down the shoreland, There is sunlight on the moorland, And boats are tossing lightly on the waves I plainly see, And still this languorous feeling Comes stealing, stealing, stealing. Until my head is reeling and my fancy, too, is free. Ah, the breeze is gently blowing, And the sunshine now is showing A misty line of vapor on the island down the stream. Hark ! a fisherman is singing Where a spaniel's bark is ringing, While I wander by the river as if drifting in a dream. In a boat again I'm sailing. While the white foam fast is trailing. And down by Navy Island I find a quiet nook. And, oh, that languorous feeling Which was stealing, stealing, stealing, Seems to vanish when a Sprudel casts his line and baited hook. Buffalo, March, 1894. SON^GS AND ROMANCES. 43 SUNSHINE ON THE RIVER. "*ODAY a bright ray of sunshine fell full on the river wide, A breeze as soft as a summer breeze rippled the river's tide, And tleecy clouds in the heavens seemed as white as drifted snow; And the atmosphere Whispered quite clear That winter must quickly go. I heard mysterious voices in the sound of a distant rill, The streamlets shone and sparkled at the foot of a neighboring hill, And the sparrows on trees were chirping in a rapid, earnest way. As if sparrows knew. And were telling true Of the summer time of play. There is hope in the glorious sunshine that floods the river and town: There is joy in the running waters that sparkle from hill tops down; 44 SONGS AND ROMANCES. And the sheen on the waves and shoreland bring gladness without a fear — For we know quite well — Nature's voices tell — That spring — glad spring, is near. The workers arouse at these voices ! This the swift breezes know, For they tell the waves that commerce soon o'er the waters will flow, And the rills that toss and sparkle and laugh as they tumble down, Whisper that mills Of valleys and hills Will awaken the hum of the town. And out of the shadows of winter, the cold and the piercing blast. The first glad ray of springtime comes glad- dening the poor at last. And hoping for honest labor and thankful for charity's store. They hail the glad ray Of the sun today — As a light to the struggling poor. Buffalo, February 28, 1894. SOl^^GS AN^D ROMANCES. 46 AS THE SHIPS GO BY. HE passengers on steamers as they meet upon the lake Wave handkerchiefs for greeting and their sun-shades, too, they shake, And as the ships pass on their way all hearts with hope are kind. And ** Happy voyage!" or *^Safe return!'* are prayers upon the wind. Far down the river, by the shore, a band of children play. And when excursion boats come near, with streamers bright and gay, The little ones, with shouts of joy and 'kerchiefs waving fast. Say: *' Happy voyage!" or **Safe return!" as swift the boat goes past. Then answering signals to the shore go from the vessel's side. For **Good-bye!" answers ** Happy voyage!" back o'er the river's tide. 46 SONGS AND ROMANCES. And, oh, no matter who you are or wheresoever you go, These happy greetings are for you where joyous ripples flow. A sturdy peasant stands a-field! He longs for city life ; Ambitious, weary of his lot, and tired of rural strife — He sees the cars come dashing on and, turning from his pose, He wafts *'Grood-bye!'' and all his heart is with the train that goes. Ah, do not deem that youth too bold who views the cars go by And feels that all his dreams of life within its boundaries lie ; For this enraptured peasant stands not there with downcast head — His glance is on the future where the flying train has sped. Buffalo, July, 1894. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 47 FROM BUFFALO TO THE SPRINGS. (Thoughts on a River Excursion.) 'HE day is fine, the breeze is strong, Old Erie's waves are low, The river as it rolls along Is noiseless in its flow. The ripples dance in lightness, No cloud a threatening brings. And all is joy and brightness From Buffalo to the Springs. From crowded street and building, From narrow court and lane. From rooms that have no gilding. From weariness and pain — Come those who seek the treasure The tossing wavelet flings — Of hopes in boundless measure— From Buffalo to the Springs. Oh, glorious scene of waters. Of pastures green and grand. Of trees that fling their shadows Along the river's strand. 48 SONGS AND KOMANCES. Oh, happy, happy children. And song that childhood sings. There's joy and pleasure all the way From Buffalo to the Springs. Ah, Nature has been free to thee, Niagara, of her stores. And down thy stream most lavishly She's beautified thy shores. But here, more precious far than wealth, Her breeze all fresh 'ning brings. That joy-inspiring gift of health — From Buffalo to the Springs. WHEN CANADIANS GO A-FISHING. w 'HEN Canadians go a-fishing They have no dainty tread ; They drop their lines where 'er they choose With haughty shake of head. If fish don't bite upon their side They row with might and main — To Yankee waters and at eve They hie them back again. SOKGS AKD ROMANCES. 49 Their catch may not be bountiful, But, then, they get the fun, Which Yankee boys and girls admire And like to look upon. And so the bold Canadians Float on the Yankee tide, And sport awhile in freedom's air Upon the Yankee side. The Solons of Ontario Have wisdom bubbling o'er. They will not have our anglers brave Go angling near their shore, Their law has put a price upon The Yankee, hook and bait — A license you must get before You drop your line — "and wait." Then comes a deep reflection When Yankee boys with lines Go over to the ** other side" And run up square 'gainst fines. Instead of fishing free and fair They find a different thing — Canadian reciprocity Will confiscate their ** string." We plant the fry and then protect Them 'gainst the poacher's net. 50 SONGS AIS^D ROMANCES. But gay Canadians come across And pull them from the wet. Their laws of state restrict us and Our laws of state proclaim A freedom that to them and us Are equal and the same. There's another kind of angling That gets the people's praise On either side 'tis practiced, too, In universal ways, The boys and girls of Canada And Yankees, too, agree — In casting matrimonial lines The tariff shall be free. Buffalo, May, 1899. THE JOY OF THANKSGIVING. S AILY we sing for Turkey is King in this happy land today. And generous fare and surcease of care will banish all gloom away. Our Thanksgiving, too, when opened to view has various shades of light^ SO]SrGS AND ROMANCES. 61 And reasons quite numerous, sedate and humorous, give cause for our thanks tonight. Here let us pause in our joy for the cause triumphant throughout the land. And give from the heart the noblest part of our thanks for the man in command. McKinley was true, and his eloquence grew to encompass the country o'er. And his heart was a part of the cause from the start, and was sound to the core. Thanks for the spark that passed in the dark down deep in the ocean bed. Startling the fishes with hearty good wishes and bearing a message which said : *' Hurrah, it is done! Arbitration has won!" Three cheers for thy doctrine, Monroe ! 'Twas a beacon of light — America's right! Clasp hands, let your hearts overflow ! Thanks for the Power! Fortune's great shower of wealth to the city makes The people declare that each one shall share the boom of the Queen of the Lakes. And "Clinton's Great Ditch," that line along which the Western grain must flow, 52 SONGS AND KOMANCES. Will be up to date with improvements great and the electric power to tow. Oh, for a song ! Sing loud and long, a song for the 'lectric wheel, The perilous fly of the shaft and the cry of the spirit that seems to feel ; The creak and the shriek, the stir and the whir of a wheel that goes round and round. And a spark on a lark, ^mid shadows quite dark, and the constant tremulous sound. 'Twould be very queer if the citizens here failed in generous thanks For the city's expanding by incomers landing and fortune's favoring pranks. The future seems boundless, and stories are groundless that tell of caution and fear, For Buffalo's border (now, this is in order) goes to Lockport a year that is near. All the good reasons of growth in their seasons, the Eeal Estate Board will portray, They'll tell of the hurry, excitement and flurry of a Eeal Estate Bargain Day. But the joy of the river where wavelets quiver, the parks and the walks for a lover ; The pavements and bikes, which everyone likes, are here for all to discover. SONGS AKD ROMANCES. 53 We are thankful for light, though we've not enough quite in alleys and streets and lanes, For crime always hides where darkness abides, and there's where it gets its gains. The electric flash makes the footpad dash from his hiding place on the street. When the man with a **star" sees the robber afar, clear the way for hurrying feet! The Electric City! 'Twould be a great pity to hide all its beauty at night ! There is joy in the glare, and the flare on the air, oh, it dazzles the eager sight ! Light the streets! Light the streets! And the stranger that greets the business man out of gloom Will praise all the ways and linger for days in a city that's got the boom. The microbe in chase is now the great race that engages the thoughtful here — The invisible death that is caught on the breath or is kissed from the lips most dear. The *' rubber-necked" bottle the nurse must throttle, and parents must save their own: 54 SONGS AKD KOMANCES. For there's hope for the child that draws it mild in the shortest way that is known. We thank Dr. Wende, the people's true friend, he has triumphed over disease, For his care that pure air may banish despair, all fright of mad dogs to appease ; No pestilence stalks on our streets or our walks, and death has a less'ning rate. Rejoice, for 'tis known epidemics have flown from the healthiest town in the State. For charities grand and the open hand, and the generous gifts in need ; For women most true in all that they do, and the forces for good they lead : For the manly speech and the acts that reach into places of wasting pain, For the churches' aid and the good that is said — give thanks again and again. Our thanks must flow, and wider grow our generous thoughts the while, For the growing trade and work which has made ev'ry laboring force to smile ; The merchants in stores, the toilers outdoors, and those in mills and shops. Feel a joy unalloyed for the army employed and the sale of the farmers' crops! 1 SONGS Ai^D ROMANCES. 55 We have thanks in store for blessings galore and for some that our patience mocks For instance, we raise our Thanksgiving praise for those long-neglected docks! And look at each hall, every one too small ! An auditorium great Is the vision seen through the savory sheen that covers each loaded plate ! Buffalo, November 26, 1897. THE LITTLE BOY WHO TRUSTED SANTA GLAUS. REALLY do not know, But, somehow, long ago Christmas seemed so full of mystery. And The things that Santa brought Carried the happy thought That fairies cared for us in fairyland. And I remember well A circumstance befell A little boy, an orphan, long ago ; The children of the manse Hung their stockings and by chance Forgot the orphan, in the cheery glow. 56 SOKGS AI^^D EOMAN^CES. All! bitter tears he shed When he retired to bed :— But soon two little feet were on the stair — A tiny form was seen ^^m Close beside the fire screen, ^IH The weeping boy had placed his stockings there ! I saw the timid look — The little hand that shook ; I saw the faith that led him there to pause ; I saw him backward creep To his little bed to sleep — That darling boy who trusted Santa Glaus ! Early on Christmas day — The first bright morning ray Fell on the hearth and stockings full and grand. The children in their joy, E'en the little orphan boy. Thanked Santa for his gifts from fairyland. I thought I'd question him, — His large blue eyes grew dim When I mentioned of his faith in Santa's way ; Then he told me that mamma — E'er she had gone afar — Said that Santa thought of children Christmas Day. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 57 And Santa knew fall well,— He said his list could tell, Just where to give his candy or his toy;— So creeping down the stair He prayed as he stood there : *'0h, Santa, do remember mamma's boy." ***** Ah, yes, I really know That in the long ago, Christmas day was ruled by fairy laws,— But children of today. Are up-to-date at play, And know mamma is truly Santa Glaus ! Buffalo, December 30, 1899. A PLEA FOR THE FLOWERS. ^Respectfully dedicated to those who cultivate them.) HE trees are leafing lovely and the grass is fresh and green, And the morning calls the sleeper to behold a lovely scene. For a run upon the cycle or a walk about the town 58 SOl^GS^AKD ROMANCES* Give the cheeks a rosy color and will smooth the temper down — Bat remember in your rambles, there's a joy that may be flown If you do not let the flowers on the lovely latnis alone. Ye lovers, who are straying 'neath the falling evening gloom. Spare the simple bunch of lilacs and the roses, when in bloom; And ye revelers who, careless of the joy that flowers bring. Let them bloom in quiet beauty where the birds their praises sing : And ye boys — oh, heed the warning ! — for your joys will all be flown If you do not let the flowers on the lovely lawns alone. Let the flowers bloom in gladness there, refreshing every sense — They beautify the gardens and adorn the hum- ble fence; They wither in the hands that dare despoil the parent stem — And those who love not flowers, sure they were not made for them ! 'A SOKGS AKD ROMAKCES. 59 So, ye ramblers of the night and morn, your joys will all be flown, If you do not let the flowers on the lovely lawns alone ! Buffalo, April 14, 1892. THE MUSIC OF THE STREET. THE grand old music sounding in cathe- dral, church or hall, Fills heart and soul with melody and stirs the feelings all ; — But, oh, the poor who may not hear what makes our pulses beat, Entranced, will, lingering, listen to the organ on the street. And children, too, will still their noise and pause in silence there. To catch the faintest echo of the music on the air. With voices calmed to whispers, they hush their shuffling feet. And, charmed and awed, they group around the organ on the street. 60 SOKGS AND ROMAKCES. A dying child lay faint and low and friends were gathered 'round, When from the roadway floated in to him a well-known sound ; A smile passed o'er his fading face — he mur- mured low and sweet, "I want to hear it" — thus he died 'mid music from the street.* » * * * * Oh, ye who dwell in mansions where music softens care And buoys the heart in sorrow and charms it everywhere. See to it that such blessings still the humbler homes may greet, And leave to freedom and the poor the music of the street. Buffalo, July 3, 1891. *This states an actual occurrence. A little fading in- valid boy whispered to his mother: " Let the organ play — I want to hear the music," and in a few moments, and while the organ still sounded, the life of the little boy passed away. 1 SONGS AND EOMANCES. 61 A CHILD'S LIST FOR SANTA GLAUS. ■^ HE youngest of the household 'tother day, (The child was little May) Heard her mother say That she must make a list of things she wanted. And, after a short pause, She added: *'I'll send the list to Santa Glaus.'' *'What is a list?" said May, and clapped her hands, "I too, have commands! Santa understands That little children like to have their wishes known." And then she laughed, the fay, As I replied: '*A *list' is names of things for Ghristmas Day!" "Oh, make a *list' for me," she quickly said. *'I am not afraid," And she gently laid Her hand on mine to urge me to her will. 62 SONGS AND ROMANCES. With calmness on my face, I drew my pencil just to please Her Grace. ***** May's list was long. Her wants flowed on unending ; In memory stored were names of many things — Costly gifts with humbler ones were blending. Her fancy seemed to have no weary wings. Happy childhood ! Shifting scenes of beauty ; Mysterious realm, where elfs and fairies dwell. Time points in vain to years of sterner duty, And vain the lessons sad, sad stories tell. May stood beside me, her sparkling eyes overflowing With wonder-laden glances as she numbered there, The things she thought that fairies were bestowing From laden baskets borne on wintry air. * * H« * ^:- *'I want, said May: A diamond ring, A bird to sing, A silk umbrella, ■; A story book of Cinderella, SONGS AN^D ROMAKOBS. 63 A dog to run, Pictures of fun, A dress of blue, A red hat, too, A cat that's jolly, Powder for faces. Flounces and laces, A pair of shoes. And tell the 'News' I want a dolly!" Buffalo, December, 1895. ARE ALL THE PRESENTS READY ? ' / I RE all the presents ready and have you rtj selected well? /t"! Be sure don't give to Johnny what -« A you bought for little Nell; Has Frances got her dolly and has Bob his bugle horn, And Hattie's skates, have they been placed to greet her in the morn? There are other gifts made ready for dear ones loved and true, Arranged while thoughts of merry times come trooping in review; 64 SONGS AND KOMANCES. And now the stockings are all filled and kindly wishes said, For the wee ones, weary watchers, who early went to bed. There's just one little stocking left on purpose for the last, A tiny foot oft pressed it in the year that's flown so fast — A pair of little feet now in Cloud Land totter- 'ng walk, And angels hear the prattle of my loved one's childish talk. I will fill it with the dainties I always gave to him; The drum he wanted, oh, so much — (it was a childish whim) — I'll place beside his stocking — in fancy hear him play — The little boy that, smiling, passed so suddenly away. Thus, the memory of our losses in such a time as this Leaves no sadness clouding darkly the Sav- iour's promised bliss ; For the presents thus selected for the dear one in the skies, SONGS AKD ROMAIS'CES. 65 I'll give a poor man's child to bless a Christmas morn's surprise ! Buffalo, December, 1898. ONCE MORE UPON THE RIVER. TIS cold upon the river and I'm certain There'll be but little fishing now till spring The autumn winds and clouds with heavy curtain Tell of the blast that comes on icy wing. Once more upon the river we'll go sailing; Once more upon the shore we'll stray along; Just once we'll see the dun clouds go a-trailing, And hear those sounds recalling summer's song. Come! For the autumn winds are swiftly blowing : — Though crisp the air the sun has power still — And boatmen are beyond the river rowing, — Come ! Hoist the sail and guide us where you will. 66 SONGS AND ROMANCES. What joy is this! The waves with constant motion The life-blood starts to emulate its flow, And, as we speed, the heart in wild devotion Recounts its treasures as we onward go. Oh, lovely river ! How you set us thinking Of love, of hope, of treasures that we prize ! Secrets I gave you once — I saw them sink- ing— I now would have them from your depths arise. Once more upon the river we'll go sailing ; Once more upon the shore we'll stray along; Just once we'll see the dun clouds go a-trailing. Ere autumn fades and hushed is summer's song. Buffalo, November, 1898. THE FISHING POLES ARE PUT AWAY. T HE boats along the river's rim No more a-fishing go. And scarcely anybody finds Amusement in a row. The fishing poles are put away, Where sunlight never shines. SOKGS AND EOMAKCES. 67 And joy and hope are seen no more, Along the fishing lines. The bass will hide in winter beds, The perch, 'tis manifest. Will seek no more the tempting bait — They've gone to take a rest. And sunlight on the river now Has lost its sparkling charm — The cold waves dash upon the shore And moan a dread alarm. The shout of bathers calling" far; The white sails — cheery sight — The passing steamers in the eve — No longer give delight. And trips to islands just below The bridge — how fine the view ! Must cease until another spring Its glories will renew. The gorgeous colors of the woods, The summer sunsets grand. The beauties of the field and shore, The joys of lake and land — Will come again to cheer us all ; ' '""' The swallows, too — and more — The river boats and fishing lines Will trail along the shore. , .^[ 68 SONGS AND EOMANCES. DOWN BY THE RIVER AT FIVE. •yTDOWN by the river at five, rrl Far away from the stifling air ^ ■ Of boarding house and alcove room, And the rising bell on the stair, The dancing waves are rippling in — They are tripping as if alive, As slow I pass along the street, Adown to the river at five. Through mists that shade the other side Erie is dashing low on shore. Far away where the stream is deep I see the shine of a dripping oar. Yonder bridge, like a fairy web. Hangs high in mists where elfins dive — So deceptive the objects seem Adown by the river at five. The river mists look bright at morn, When the sun with a golden sheen Wraps town and lake and stream that flows In a gorgeous morning scene, Joy comes in with the morning light, And health to the many who strive SOI^GS Aiq^D ROMANCES. 69 And both are found by those who stroll Adown by the river at five. Ah, the river that long ago Lured me out in the sun's first ray; When life was all an even flow And wind and wave were calm all day ; Ah, that river, its flowing tide, The walk from town, or morning drive — Fair was the maid who laughed with me Adown by the river at five. Buffalo, April, 1897. OCTOBER APPLE BLOOMS. SPRIXG IN" AUTUMN". (An apple tree in the yard of Mrs. A. Vandermueler, 57 Arkansas street, is in bloom, the blossoms being large and very bright in color. A small branch brought to the "News" oflBce this morning bore a number of trusses of buds and blossoms. — Buffalo "News," October 24.) WEET blossoms, with the odor of the orchards and the spring. Why do you in October bloom? (A rare and wondrous thing) Your leaves so nicely tinted are and bud and bloom are true — Can Nature paint, with fingers cold, a blossom fair as you? 70 SONGS AND ROMANCES. What message of the beautiful is in your folded leaves? Your presence wakens fancy — bright webs of spring it weaves, While echoes of the breezes come, as sounds come from afar — Again we're in the orchards where the apple blossoms are. Do you come to speak of brighter climes beyond a winter's gloom? Do you tell us that from trouble, joy and hap- piness will bloom? Do you warn us that a voice will speak from out your petals there Of wondrous climes beyond the skies — that joy and peace dwell there? Perhaps, you've come to show us that the chambers of the air Contain the forms which once we've seen around us everywhere. And though we cannot view them with an earthly sense of sight The spirit sense illuminates and gives us purer light. Oh, rare and wondrous blossoms, born in autumn's chill and cold, SOKGS AND ROMANCES. 71 When russet leaves are falling in colors bright as gold ; How pale your tints beside them look — too delicate to stay, No fruit will follow blooming — you bloom and fade away. Oh, friends with whom I've wandered in the orchards long ago, I see again your faces with youth's bright and happy glow — And blossoms of October wake the memories of a time When birds sang to the buds and blooms a song of perfect rhyme. Buffalo, October, 1895. THE HERO. w 'E read the stories of the sea. Where gallant sailors fought their way— When bursting shells made havoc free, And death was clasped in mortal fray — Though roar of guns Appalled the soul. 72 SONGS AND ROMANCES. Brave men pressed on To win the goal ! We read of men so firm, so true So dauntless 'mid the battle shock, That, as the thunders greater grew, Defiant stood like rooted rock ! Where shot and shell Their terrors flame. As if from hell These voices came ! But, where in all the sea's romance. When day had closed and dawn awoke ; Has such a scene met seamen's glance As that when Dewey's signal spoke? The Ealeigh's guns Made no delay, And answers blazed Along the bay ! Though men had fought in ancient times With valor that is praised in Spain, Though poets have described in rhymes The glories of the heroes slain — No valor in Manila's Bay Was ever known Till Dewey's day ! SOIfGS AND KOMANCES. 73 The homage of a nation tells The worth of all that he has done, And city marts and streams and fells Proclaim the victory he has won. Throughout the land With loud acclaim, The people laud Brave Dewey's name! Buffalo, Sept., 1899. PARDON DREYFUS! ^->^ARDON Dreyfus!" Silly elf, ^ J Tell me, what has Dreyfus done? /->^ Yes! I quite forgot ! 'Tis true- But I tell you nothing new — Though heside him laid a **gun,*' Dreyfus did not shoot himself ! The pistol ready at his hand Proved a foil to his intent ; The baffled tempter stood aside When Dreyfus said: **rm innocent!" Buffalo, Sept., 1899. 14: SONGS AKD ROMAK-CES. LINES TO "JENNIE JUNE." (On meeting her at the State Federation in Buffalo.) X THE warfare 'gainst disorder We're enlisted on the border, And we hail you our commander, ** Jennie June," Oh, my heart with joy is swellin' For the higher life to dwell in. And its with the social symphonies in tune. How bright your song of life is ; How strong your moral strife is ; I remember, I remember long ago. When you worked in April showers. And smiled amid May flowers. And June was, like your thoughts, a summer glow. Now you revel in aesthetics. In intellectual ethics, Kipe in judgment, polished manners — all refined. And your devotees in laces, SONGS AND ROMANCES. 75 Charming smiles and many graces, Show the blending of the toilette with the mind. Can we doubt, while we admire The intellectual fire, That frills and lace, and moire in varied tones. Give to philanthropic doings, As well as tender wooings. The power that women have on social thrones. Buffalo, November, 1896. THE GATHERING OF THE DOLLS. (Written after attending the "News" great Doll Show.) EE the gathering of the dolls! In- structive dolly show ; See, the gleaming, dazzling splendors that babyhood may know! Children all are reveling in anticipated blisses. Happiness and joy enchain enchanting little misses, And hushed are cries of babies and the child- ren's louder bawls 76 SONGS AND ROMANCES. When they hear alluring stories of the gather- ing of the dolls. There are dolls from generous givers, dolls from dainty hands; There are dolls that create wonder, representing foreign lands; There are dolls from schools and churches, all dressed in fine array And the beauty of their draping art and fashion doth betray ; Scenes of grandeur and refinement a gift like this recalls — Sights are worth the seeing in the gathering of the dolls! There are gifts from all the firemen, brave and generous men. They've done a deed most worthy to be praised by speech or pen ; Policemen ever willing, too, their gifts have just begun And will not cease till dolls are sent to repre- sent each one. And thus the men of duty, so responsive to its calls. Are grandly represented in the gathering of the dolls. SOITGS Al^D ROMANCES. 77 Ah, tenderness and bravery go ever hand in hand, And bravest deeds are those which come from hearts, without command. Homage of the strongest to the weakest gladly given Surely is not all of earth, it seems a part of Heaven, And, oh, this benediction, all lightly though it falls. Is seen in all its splendor in the gathering of the dolls. A mother who had lost a wee bit prattling child, today Sent in a contribution of a doll in fine array — "Present it to a little one whose mother may be dead," And thus the card pinned to the dress told what the donor said, A sorrow prompted missive. Ah, a dear one it recalls, And tender thoughts are garnered with the gathering of the dolls. A precious child is gladdened by the gift that sorrow sends, And a surcease of that sorrow is what the gift portends. 78 SOl^rGS AND ROMANCES. Thus, the act of gen'rous giving finds returns for present ills, In the pleasure, and the measure of the happiness it fills And nothing in all fairyland the heart so much enthralls As little children gladdened by the gathering of the dolls! Buffalo, Nov., 1895. THOUGHTS OF APPLE BLOSSOMS. ^ H, THE apple blossoms will soon be here!" Said a child on the lawn at play. To a rosy companion standing near, As I strolled on the street today ; And I heard the rosy one make reply In a voice that was sweet and low ; **I love the blossoms!" and then with a sigh, "But they do not stay long, you know." I stopped to hear the response that came. As they stood in the twilight gloom : *'0h, mother once said it is all the same — That the fruit will follow the bloom ! SONGS AND ROMAKCES. 79 And I' Ye read in a book that what we prize And lose, in mysterious ways, Will blossom again under changing skies And gladden our future days." Those sweet, sweet words of a girl most fair Have brought to my heart and brain. Thoughts of the past — and the evening air Is fragrant with bloom again, For, oh, in the days long passed — ah, well, They've gone with blossom and breeze. And the maid— but, then, I may never tell. Who strolled 'neath the apple trees! For years we walked in a loving way. And ever when spring came near. We took from the month a bloss'ming day To cheer us throughout the year. And then — ah, then there came a time, When I strolled alone in the gloom, And I did not know — I'd lost the rhyme,— "That fruit will follow the bloom!" Buffalo, April 18, 1891. 80 SOKGS AKD ROMANCES. MY MOTHER'S VOICE. HE voice of her I love, how dear ! Tho' far my wand'ring footsteps stray, It lingers on my listening ear, It vibrates thro' each passing year; And, thinking of that voice today. Remembrance claims the willing tear. My mother's voice ! Its gentle power Has turned temptation's face away ; And tho' the tempest clouds may lower, To darken life's most joyous hour. It comes, like sunshine on the day. To brighten field, and wood, and bower. That voice comes to me when alone, In cheerinsr accents, soft and sweet ; In festive halls I hear its tone ; And when to wilder scenes I've flown — Thro' haunts of men, thro' busy street — Its magic spell is round me thrown. How sweet the voices are that blend In murmuring rill and flow'ry lee ; I SONGS AKD ROMANCES. 81 In whisperings that the south winds send ; In sighs from trees when branches bend ; In thrilling sounds from heaving sea, And in the echoes valleys lend ! Yet naught has ever touched my heart Like that sweet voice I long to hear ; An echo of the soul thou art ! And from this revery I start To feel my mother's spirit near, Sweet voice ! ah, we shall never part I HEART ECHOES. "^HE day is dreary and the night is long Since fond companionship is lost to me; Those tender sympathies — the heart's best song, Have vanished like the sunlight on the lea ; No more for me Come sunny smiles — but all is dark upon the lea. Alone I stand, who late had all of care — Of gentle care — expressive kind and true. 82 SON^GS AND ROMANCES. Alone I stand, and miss those hands most fair, Which never failed their perfect work to do. Alas ! how few Can thrill us with a touch like those we've lost could do. The sad, sad part of life is this : To know That from us pass, in our declining years, The loved who made all joy to overflow, The dear ones that held back the gathering tears — Suppressing fears And banishing the flow — sad flow of sorrow's tears. So one by one the links of friendship break, And one by one our loved ones fade and die; — Sweet wife, I sorrow here for thy dear sake, For thee I feel despair is all too nigh. Could we bu b fly ! But no ! Fate holds us fast and sorrows come too nigh. It is so dreary on this lonely road ! Yet thou art near, I know. I feel your hand Break through the air ! Oh, come from thy abode ! And tell me something of the Summer Land, 1 SOKGS AND EOMANOES. 83 Dear hand ! dear hand ! Guide me or point the way that leads to Sum- mer Land! Just when we need the buoyancy and bliss, The helps which love and friendship always give; Just when we're grateful in a world like this, And learn how beautiful it is to live ! Just when we'd give All thankfulness of heart for yet awhile to live — Comes the sad messenger on shadowy wing — Throwing a somber sadness over all — Hushing the voices that of late did sing And stilling the answer to a loved one's call. Dear, dear ones all- Just when we need you most you're gone beyond our call I So the sad heart echoes its grief and pain, Its heavy sorrow, borne, alas, alone ! The old-time joys are called — recalled in vain ; They fade away with vanished look or tone. The heart's sad moan Pierces the drifting clouds up, up, unto the Throne. Kansas City, Mo., 1898, 84 SONGS Al^B ROMANCES. BEYOND THE CLOUDS. (Tribute to the Memory of the Late Mrs. Lily Lord Tiflft.) jTpHERE are so many passing every year ! — "vH* So much of light withdrawn that |.^^ darkness falls; -*> So much of joy withdrawn its loss appalls, — And wraps us in a sad, sad atmosphere. Here evils mar the beauty of the day! — Bold Death ! why enter where the good and true "Work daily, hourly, surely to undo The evils against which we always pray. There was a picture drawn of efforts grand — Of Love and Charity and kindly deeds That met all comers howe'er great their needs, And ministered always at Want's command. That was but yesterday ! But now, alas ! The central figure of the picture's flown — We thought to hold it ever as our own, But, like a summer cloud, we saw it pass. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 85 Honored and blessed in her lone widowhood ; — So firm of purpose, strong in rightful ways — Devoting ail her energies and days, In doing all that she could do of good. Her life was eloquent — her voice was sweet — Her friendship balm to the o'er burdened heart ; Strange wonders when the loved and trusting part, Their loss is gain ! Beyond the clouds they meet! Buffalo, February, 1899. MEMORIES OF A MOTHER'S LOVE. (Lines on the Death ol Mrs. Louise Newell O'Day.) PERFECT life— to duty faithful, true; The crown of womanhood all glori- fied; And nothing that her busy hands could do Was left undone — and so the mother died Amid the blossoms of her home. In sweetest bloom, the parent flower died. 86 SONGS AND ROMANCES. bearing the confines of the grave, that life Might blossom from the shadow and the pain, The loving parent, friend, and loyal wife — So near — cross'd o'er, never to come again, Save through the mem'ries of her love, We may not see her face and form again. All the bright activities — timely care, — The helping hand in sorrow's heavy hour; The word of sympathy — her gen'rous share In kindly deeds ; the spirit and the power, Gave to her work a christian grace — A light which hallowed most her parting hour. Oh ! glorious hope ! Precious Word of God ! Oh, faith ! that leads us when the light is given; We see the pathway that the saints have trod — We know that lov'd ones wait for us in heaven — Watching for friends that linger here— Waiting for them in homes prepared in heaven. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 87 LOVE AND HOPE. (Lines on the Death of Mrs. Ida Zeller-Lund.) ' j I WIFE and mother in a curtained room, /^ Where Death and Silence rested for 1 1\ ^ while, y 1 I saw. But could not feel a shock of gloom ; For, lo ! I fancied I could see a smile Rest on the lips and brighten that cold face — As oft 'twas seen, in days of happy grace. Her joyous soul was speaking through the cold And chill of death. Showing the great delight Her spirit felt, as saints have done of old, Passing to Heaven in their sudden flight. And on the dear face of that loving wife A calm, sweet smile told of the other life. Grand and glorious thought ! Love never dies ! But cheers us on through many weary days. And, oh, that smile ; a message from the skies — Quickly the heart reads what that message says, 88 SONGS AND KOMANCES. Ah, Love and Hope shine through that face so fair — Yes, Love and Hope for those who sorrow there. Love lived and blossomed to a gorgeous bloom And all things bright and fair were with her here; Sorrows passed and touched not — cares left no gloom, And threat'ning shadows could arouse no fear. Her home and child — her husband and her friends — Gave all of joy and all that joy extends. Patient and trusting — strong in Love's decree ; Bright'ning the household with a touch divine; Lifting the burdens that bore heavily On those she dearly loved. The deeds that shine And form a character so sweet and pure Give friends the strength to suffer and endure. Buffalo, January, 1898. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 89 M SISTER MODESTA. PPROACH with reverential step and awe A bier whereon a lovely form is laid : Lovingly come, for in her life she saw A pathway that the angels sure had made. Hope came with her and joy she would renew, As those oppressed wept long where sorrow lies, — Rich in good deeds and pure as morning's dew She passed beyond. Look we into the skies, Her angel voice will reach us from the skies. Sister Modesta ! Ah, she cheered the poor — The more than poor, the orphaned waifs of fate. She went a suppliant from door to door — Her work was early and it ended late. How many rosaries would it take to count The loving deeds of one as weak as she? How many hearts inspired by joy to mount The heavenly portals and its glories see To view the glories which we all may see. 00 SOKGS AKD ROMANCES. Orphans of a city ! Deserted quite ! No thoughtful mother watches o'er their ways — Those little wayward ways, not far from right, Yet all too far for strangers e'er to praise. Sweet Sister, lying there so cold, so calm. Was to those children always kind and true. For all their sufferings she had a balm, And all their sorrows came for her review — Quick she assuaged their sorrows in review. Come, let us gaze once more upon her face, Sweet face, so bright and joyous too, in life;— No grief is there — no sorrow can we trace — In this deep sleep is closed all mortal strife. So ends a life devoted to endure — Her work is over in this sleep of rest. Farewell, sweet Sister, ever bright and pure, Eternal joys await you with the blest, A crown of glory waits you with the blest. Buffalo, Nov., 1897. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 91 IN MISSOURI, LONG AGO. * HE men of old Missouri ! Are hearty, braye and true, With sturdy, manly manners, And friendship fresh and new; Their generous smiles for strangers Are kind when luck is low — This is what I learned of men In Missouri, long ago. Kentucky gave her gen'rous men — Virginia's sons are there — While Eastern men have sought the State Its enterprise to share ; And Louisiana, from the Gulf, Sent traders there, you know And Mississippi bartered free — In Missouri, long ago. Ah, friends of old Missouri, IVe known your sturdy ways; Your friendship is a memory I cherish and I praise. 92 SONGS AND ROMANCES. I've known you to defend the truth Your sense of right to show, When upright ways were battled for — In Missouri, long ago. And friends of Kansas City, I mourn with you today, The loss of Col. Gaston, Dead at Nauheim, far away. True to your soil, he cherished All loving traits. And so His last thoughts were of friendships made- In Missouri, long ago. So kind and gentle always — Hopeful, manly, brave — His words were ever ready As his hand to lift and save. For he felt the worth of manhood, And taught it, this I know, For I knew him, and I loved him — In Missouri, long ago. Buffalo, August, 1899. SOXGS AND BOMANCES. 93 IN MEMORY OF "FARMER BAKER." E LOVED mankind, and hope was in his song; His words came to us full of joyous cheer ; The chords he touched will vibrate all along Our pathway, howe'er long we loiter here. Prompt to respond, he gave a brother's hand ; He strengthened many weary hearts in subtle ways, Bewitchingly he waved a poet's wand, And soothingly he sang his welcome lays. And he who sang so cheerily and free Has left a legacy of good behind, So may his epitaph, when written, be : He gave a brother's hand ; he loved mankind. Buffalo, February, 1898. 94 SOKGS AND ROMANCES. THE MEN BEHIND THE GUNS. (When tlie boat's crew of the warship Brooklyn, after securing the standard compass from the wreck of the Infanta Maria Teresa, the flagship of Admiral Cervera, presented the rescued marine guide to Commodore Schley. That noted sea commander said with a trembling voice: "I am much obliged to you, but the great credit of that victory belongs to you, boys — the men behind the guns. Without you no laurels would come to our country.") ■* HE thunders of that Sabbath morn — That morn so bright, so calm, so fair— Told that the Spanish ships, in scorn. Had come, like bloodhounds, from their lair ; And Sampson's men, Columbia's sons, Sprang, rallying there, behind the guns. On, on, they come! Determined foe! — One chance for freedom on the seas — They strive to give us blow for blow, But two for one we give with ease, And thundering where Teresa runs, Our seamen stand behind the guns! New York, the flagship, where was she? — Look eastward! Ah, she's miles away; SOKGS AND ROMANCES. 95 But Sampson reads the signal free — From ships now rushing to the fray — "The foe escapes!" But noble ones Are ready there behind the guns! And quickly now the words go back, In answer to the signal there ; *' Close on the enemy-attack!" And cannon's voices fill the air. For men die fast when hot blood runs — And freemen stand behind the guns ! Impatient, Sampson views the gleam Of burning ships in deadly line ; His heart throbs faster than the steam Forced on by furnace glow and shine. And all around war's noble sons Stand grim and fierce behind the guns ! Schley, on the Brooklyn, giving blows, That made the foemen faint and reel, Knew, as every brave man knows, What joy of heart would Sampson feel Could he be with the foremost sons Who fought and stood behind the guns! The Spanish ships along the shore. Burned by fire and smashed by shell. Are blackened pyres and nothing more— 96 SONGS AND KOMANCES. Yet some are dying where they fell. Brave but misguided Spanish sons, You lost when freemen manned the guns ! And while our warships plow the seas, And valor holds its glorious sway ; And while ''Old Glory'* feels the breeze, That wafts brave ^thoughts back o'er the way— The Nation's safe when freedom's sons Stand man to man behind the guns ! Buffalo, July, 1898. WHEN JOHNNY GETS HIS GUN, W' 'HEN Johnny gets his gun, look out, There's bound to be a fuss. For Johnny is in earnest when He holds his ''blunderbuss!' His martial air is wonderful ; His smile upsets all fun. And things assume a warlike air, When Johnny gets his gun ! In softer moods our John is calm — He's sportive, gay and good, SONGS AND ROMANCES. 97 And acts with much propriety — A freeman always should ! When yachting he will never *4oad" His vessel on the run, But saves his efforts till the time He wants to *'load" his gun. He's sturdy on the baseball field, And football plays with vim ; In *' cricket," too, he doth excel All sports a-field suit him. But in the battle van, for right. He makes the foemen run, And, oh, the triumph of that hour When Johnny gets his gun ! In wild adventure John delights, He loves to travel, too. And, when exploring, always keeps The North Pole up to view! And, as for loving Liberty — He's freedom's honest son! And down will go its enemies. When Johnny gets his gun ! He fought the Spaniards — vanquished them. With vigor and dispatch, 98 SONGS AND ROMAKCBS. And fought the Filipinos — when These sprinters he could catch. But there is Aguinaldi, sure, He's always on the run, And keeps ahead of bullets since Our Johnny's got his gun! SO SPLENDID ON PARADE. 'M a soldier I I'm a soldier! I'm a soldier 'jil of the Guards, I parade and drill, parade and drill, and frolic with my pards. And as we march along the streets, **Eyes right!" the captains call, And all our eyes, their glances right, on pretty maidens fall. I'm a soldier! I'm a soldier! I'm a soldier of the line, In drilling we're proficient — we're proficient, tall and fine. And at our balls and parties we are nimble on our feet, At **right and left" and **forward all" you'll find us quite complete I SONGS AND KOMANCES. 99 I'm a soldier! I'm a soldier! I'm a soldier tried and true ; My regimental suit — my suit is always bright and new. My military air is sucli I'm termed an '* upper grade;" But people say I'm fit for war — so splendid on parade ! I'm a soldier! I'm a soldier! I'm a soldier of the Guards, In battle, yes, in battle, I will line up with my pards. And though we love to dance, parade and court the lovely girls. You'll find us rallying quickly when our battle flag unfurls ! THE BRAVE ONES LEFT BEHIND. THE drums are beating and the Guards are marching down the street. The banner, bright and new, is held aloft for all to greet, And, as the band begins to play some stirring, martial air, 100 SONGS AND ROMANCES. Joy seems to rule the hour then, and all seems bright and fair. That swinging march of soldiers as they pass in steady line Tells of a dauntless spirit and a courage true and fine ; That eager look, that cheerful smile, betoken valor grand, And all are proud defenders of freedom's glorious land. Is there a sign of sadness viewed in all that moving throng? Is there a grief that does not to that martial scene belong? la there no weeping mother and no wife with tears that blind — No little ones, all lonely, too, with those now left behind? Sad scenes of parting do not come beneath a stranger's gaze — Within the home a fond embrace — a kiss — a word of praise, And then the tears resistlessly from loving eyes must flow. With words impassioned from the heart, *'How can I let you go?" SONGS AND ROMANCES. 101 There's courage on the battlefield, amid the clash and roar ; There's courage on the armored ship — on ocean and on shore ; But when the brave ones of the war are 'listed can you find, No names of those who bravely weep in sorrow, left behind? Buffalo, May 13, 1898. A SHRINE WHERE VOWS ARE MADE \ yHE *'boys" are ready for the fun, 4s The powder has been passed around. And now, 'tis told, the last big gun In its embrasure may be found. The sea brings back the shouts of men Who've gone to man Columbia's boats; The rock-bound coast resounds, and then High over all Old Glory floats. If to the world the word is said The Maine by treachery went down. That those brave lads who now are dead, Perished 'neath Hate's revengeful frown, Each man, each gun, each saber there, 102 SONGS AND ROMANCES. MoYed and aroused by martial notes, Will brave malignant Cuba's air. And strike where grand Old Glory floats. That sacred wreck will be to those Who to Havana's port will sail A beacon light a sailor knows Who seeks safe shelter from the gale. 'Twill be a shrine where vows are made, That those who kill in friendly boats Must fall by Freedom's flashing blade. Wherever Freedom's banner floats. Buffalo, March, 1898. THE NURSE OF THE VOLUNTEERS. HE had tended the soldiers by flicker- ing lamp, Through the weary watches of night ; She had waited with patience the stir of the camp. And the dawn of the morning's light, And the roar of the cannon, the distant shout. The crash of the shot and the shell, All told of the enemy's charge and his rout — And oh, of the dead as well. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 103 And the nurse who is fragile, weary and worn, Who soothed in a womanly way, Now prayed in the glow of another morn For the strength for another day. She prayed for the soldier now racked with pain, And the one with the fever's fires; For the helpless men who never again Would behold their village spires. Physicians will tell how grandly she worked, Of her calmness all free from fear. Of her bravery, too, where the dangers lurked, 'Mid the fever's deadly career. Gallant ones, give them tribute that's due — Admiring the spirit to save ; Defend and protect, and honor them, too. The nurses who tended the brave ! Buffalo, December, 1898. DEWEY, COME THIS WAY. H, DEWEY, true, is coming ! There's a mighty lot of drumming — From along the seacoast front is sent a murmur of the sea ! It riseth and it falleth, 104 SONGS AND ROMANCES. From every point it calleth — '*0h, Dewey! Dewey! Dewey! do come hither unto me!" From San Francisco City, There comes the soulful ditty — You can hear it on the levee and far out upon the bay ; They're frantic in their gestures, They're wild in their investures — For it's "Dewey ! Dewey ! Dewey ! when you're coming, come this way!" In Boston town, 'tis curious, The people there grow furious — Grow curious and furious raising there a pretty muss; The school marms they are in it. They sing each passing minute **Now, Dewey! Dewey! Dewey! oh, do come and visit us!" From Baltimore, the gracious, Philadelphia, the tenacious. And Charlestown, where the Raleigh scraped her keel the other day; From ev'ry town and village Where pirate crafts could pillage, — It is "Dewey! Dewey! Dewey! oh, we pray you come this way!" * SONGS AND ROMANCES. 105 New York looks on serenely — Her smiles are quaint and queenly — While she gazes o'er the waters like a goddess fair and free, Columbia's torch is burning For Dewey's safe returning, And thy tomb, oh. Grant, the hero, a hero first should see ! Buffalo, May, 1899. ra VERY MUCH TO DO. OW, really. Uncle Samuel, You've very much to do. As the protocols' accepted And peace is now in view. There's the smoothing of the ruffles That has caused such discontent. And the shaking off of bother, And restoring calm intent. You must educate the Cubans, The Spaniards tolerate ; You must feed the concentrados. Teach love instead of hate, 106 SON"GS AiTD KOMANCES. You must sugar-coat the grumbling, You must pacify complaints, And praise the pictures painted While disliking him who paints. You must teach those crabs of Cuba To crawl and make no noise ; You must clean the filthy cities, And build where man destroys. You must hold the speculators In firm and steady check; You must calm the over zealous. And save the spoils of wreck. You must tell the politicians That peace must now restore The tangled web of policies With dreams of wealth galore. Now, really, Uncle Samuel You've very much to do, Since the protocol's accepted And peace is now in view. SOI^GS AND ROMANCES. 107 SIGSBEE SAW THE LIGHT. *HE Spanish fleet is bottled, And the cork is jammed down tight— There's nothing left for us to do But Fight! Fight! Fight! The troops for Cuba hurry, Their steps are quick and light, Ah, mind you, they're in earnest and — Will Fight! Fight! Fight: At Santiago Sigsbee saw A longed-for pretty sight, He told the fleet, and one and all Said- Fight! Fight! Fight! 108 SOIfGS AND ROMANCES. A CONTROVERSY IN RHYME. ON THE SEABOARD, NEAR THE SOUND. N THE seaboard, near the Sound — Oh, New York! Oh, New York! Our flag we'll rally round — Oh, New York! Oh, New York! **Eicelsior" floating high — We will strive to do or die, While the Dons are hov'ring nigh — Oh, New York! Oh, New York! Sons of freemen ! Fly to save — Oh, New York! Oh, New York! While the foemen rant and rave — Oh, New York! Oh, New York! Give us bayonets, give us guns. And the rallying of your sons Will be swift as water runs — Oh, New York! Oh, New York! Gen. Miles says of your coast — Oh, New Yovkl Oh, New York! **It*s defenseless!'* This our boast — Oh, New York! Oh, New York! SONGS AND ROMANCES. 109 Our arms your bulwarks are, And no foe from lands afar Your beauteous front shall mar, Oh, New York ! Oh, New York ! Buffalo, February 23, 1898. IN THE CITY BY THE LAKE. In the city by the lake — Buffalo! 0, Buffalo! One brave mortal is awake — Buffalo! 0, Buffalo! Waving freedom's flag on high. With a wild light in his eye. Hear him shout the battle cry ! Buffalo! 0, Buffalo! Sons of freemen ! Give him guns- Buffalo! 0, Buffalo! Give him bayonets and buns — Buffalo! 0, Buffalo! Rally to his battle call, Follow after, one and all, Till the last armed Don shall fall- Buffalo! 0, Buffalo. Mr. **S." says: '^Fly to save !'' Buffalo! 0, Buffalo I 110 SONGS AKD ROMANCES. ** While the foemen rant and rave" — Buffalo! 0, Buffalo! With our guns beneath our wings, And our swords tied on with strings, We are flying while he sings — Buffalo! 0, Buffalo! J. Wiley Owen. South Wales, N. Y., Feb. 26, 1898. A poet's flight. Wiley Owen flies to save. And bears his gun beneath his wings ; He goes, a birdling, bold and brave. And ties his sword with cotton strings. Brave youth ! South Wales will see you fly, With shouts that cheer and words most gay ; We'll meet in Cuba, you and I — Be sure you do not miss the way ! For I'm afraid your angel wings Will be impeded as you go; And swords secured by cotton strings Are not secure enough, you know. But try it! And I'll watch your flight, All ready for the foe or fun ; And, if you get there, day or night, I'll see you'll get the Aforesaid bun! I SONGS AND KOMANCES. Ill TO A FELLOW WARRIOR. I remember, I remember, just before the war begun, Of a man who said in Cuba he would meet me; He promised when he met me he would treat me to a bun, And he rather intimated he would beat me. Fighting Spaniards on the island, if it ever comes to war. Well, the war has come and gone, which you're aware of: But we didn't meet in Cuba, Mr. *'S" and I, for We stayed at home, and that's the reason thereof. But I did my share of fighting, for I sunk Montejo'a ships In two hundred dactyl feet of flowing rhythm ; And with irony had I twisted slender similes into whips, And lashed the bloomin' bay to frenzy with 'em. I hurled huge semi-colons and periods galore Against the solid walls of old Cavite ; 112 SONGS AND EOMANCES. And I blew the forts to atoms with a crazy metaphor And hyperboles and visions rather flighty. With many a dash I led the muse on famous San Juan, And sent the Spaniards crying for their mammas ; I hacked and stabbed and slashed the bloomin* coward Dons who ran, With sharp-edged exclamation points and commas ; I safely penned Cerera's fleet in Santiago bay, And when he tried to cut his little caper, I chased him on iambic feet and flayed him on the way, And spread the wreck on seven sheets of paper. Mr. **S." what have you done while the boys have been away? I haven't noticed any of your fighting; Now won't you point your pencil at the Philip- pines some day? And just be kind o' careful of your sighting; Load it full of mental bomb shells that will carry 'cross the sea, And fire a ringin' volley at the heathen ; « SOKGS AliTD ROMAKCES. 113 If you hit the mark, the native (mark my point) will turn and flee, And you'll be right in (writin') lines along with me then. There is trouble in the Philippines, the heathen "rant and rage;" In the jingle they are hiding, lurking, fight- ing; I have hurled at them hyperboles from many a rhyme-bored page, But they're flying Spanish-wild at present writing. So hasten, "fly to save," with your rhyme- wings soaring high ; Let your word-edged saber through the heathen tingle ; And we'll just divide that promised bun in Buffalo by and by. If the editor don't slay me for my jingle. J. Wiley Owek. BOMBS THAT DID NOT KILL. J. Wiley Owen — while you write of men Your points seem touched with a too pointed pen. How could I ever in my quiet way Hope to match you when you begin to slay ! 114 SOiq-GS Al^D ROMAN'CES. The Spanish fleet went down! Who wonders here? Your rhymes were ready and your dashes clear : No one could doubt the issue when he saw Your verse, in punctuation, showed no flaw ; Your victory in similes was so plain That doubt was only in the number slain ! I did not go to Cuba! That is true! And so, you say, the same is told of you. I cheered the boys along, as best I could. I knew they and their record would be good — And then I turned, with feelings true and kind. To try and cheer the girls they left behind ! While you, more bold, subdued your agitation. And won hard battles — in imagination. But I have fired persistently each day Since gentle peace went outward and away ; Have aimed at enemies on every side And those at home who seemed so full of pride. But mental bombs kill not across the sea And so my graveyards do not bother me. Ah, let the Filipinos **rant and rage," The boys in blue will stick like mucilage ! I've joiaed the phalanx that must find relief SONGS AN'D KOMANCES. 115 From all thy evils, ''Refrigerated Beef The army boys have failed to "keep you down,** And could not hold you till they cooked you brown. They tried persuasion. Ah, you would not stay, But crawled in many forms to get away ! And soon the cooks declared they liked you most When they could see you dripping in a ''roast!'* Embalming showed that "skippers" found the life That followed death from stroke of packer *s knife ! And foul disease arrested not the sale Of meat whose odors mingled with the gale, And thus it was until the packer's art Revealed a point that pleased the packer*s heart ! And so, dear Wiley, you shall have the bun. And still I'm owin' something for the fun; But where your bold iambic feet may stray I'll "fly to save" your metaphors at bay! Buffalo, March, 1899. 116 SONGS AKD EOMANCES. I WANT TO GO FISHING TODAY. ' I J ^HERE'S a languorous feeling and sultry ] ^ air, ^ In office and store and street; ■ ^ There's a longing for shores where the winds are fair, And cooling sands for the feet. There's the swish of the waves and the splash of the oars. The sound of a distant call ; There's the far-away cloud that gently soars, And the blue that covers all. And, oh, as I look from my window high, And watch the clouds at play. There comes from my heart such a rising sigh — I want to go fishing today. I strive to banish the thought of a line That leads to the lair of the bass ; I think of the dangers that may be mine, Ere the island's head I pass But, oh, that bare-footed boy that comes With his rod, has stirred me again And I sing once more the song that he hums, SONGS AND ROMANCES. 117 And I long to be in his train. For memory launched a silvery boat On a sea that is bright and gay — The happiest man I would be afloat, Could I but go fishing today. Buffalo, June, 1899. THE DREAD CANADIAN FLY. THERE is a time in summer days When river streams are warm and nice, When sunlight on the water plays, And all the joys of shores entice — At such a time, when clouds go by. Comes here the dread Canadian fly. Crush them! And a million more Come floating in from everywhere; Like ghosts from off a viewless shore — They flutter, fall, then disappear, And every footfall, passing by. Leaves there the dead Canadian fly. 118 SONGS AND KOMANCES. What shades the lamps? Ah, do not ask Of those who live in Buffalo town. What darkens windows? See the mask Of flies that come and nestle down. The gossips tell, with long-drawn sigh, It is the dread Canadian fly ! ** Exterminate!" You can't. Ah, no. Strange is their entrance — exit, too, You cannot see them come or go — They're here, and that alone is true! Do what you will — all methods try — Still comes the dread Canadian fly. They thought to train the fish to kill The eggs ! But fish cannot be led ; They thought that lights would lure. They will! But only when their wings are spread ! And other methods they would try To hive the dread Canadian fly ! Some thought of nets ! Imprison them ! They come and go at their sweet will ! De Barry's power can never stem These contract workers without skill ! And now thy site, old Front, must die, Because of thee — Canadian fly ! SONGS Al^D ROMANCES. 119 Canadians guard their fish and game — Their Klondike claims — so strange, so new — Now let them treat these pests the same, And frame their laws to keep them, too! Then will our summer days pass by Free from the dread Canadian fly! Buffalo, April, 1899. LILIUOKALANI AT THE FALLS. IL-I-U-O-KA-LA-NI looked at the falls and smiled. For an instant roaring waters all her senses there beguiled ; And the crowns of all the princes in the world seemed rushing by, As the mists of falling waters, rolling upward, met the sky! Lil-i-u-o-ka-la-ni saw the crown of her loved isle. It was the last that passed, and that's what caused that queenly smile — To think that such a vision should be called at such a time, 120 SONGS AND ROMAKCES. When hearts are awed and humbled amid scenes the most sublime! Lil-i-u-o-ka-la-ni called her maid close to her side, And to a question that she asked that anxious maid replied ; But, ah, no answer could be heard amid the roar and rumble — And Lil remarked: "Oh, what a place for crowns to take a tumble!" And as the foaming waters ran along its narrow bed, Queen Lil watched close the eddies and again she smiling, said : *' Magnificent and great are these, the huge and fallen rocks. But there's the ^pooP to * water' all the bank- rupt royal stocks!" Lil-i-u-o-ka-la-ni was so Jocose all that day. That when a rainbow's colors could be seen amid the spray, She said, as arched that rainbow o'er the mist- drops falling down : "The promise of the rainbow is I'll win Hawaii's crown!" SONGS AND ROMANCES. 121 But as the rainbow melted there while gazed Hawaii's queen, She seemed more gay than sad the while as all looked on the scene ; And then she said: '*Ah, well a-day, my hope seems almost over; ril paint the broken bow and send one-half of it to Grover!" Buffalo, January, 1897. THE MAN WITH HIS HAT IN HIS HAND." [Suggested by reading Clark Howell's speech delivered in Buflfalo on December 21, 1899.] a ^COVERED his head!— his hat in his hand! He leans 'gainst a tree near the wood, While memory recalls where legions had formed, Where men of the Southland stood. 122 SOKGS AKD ROMAKCES. Scenes of the past and hopes that had been Inspiring thoughts long ago Passed like the red of the cannon's dread mouth, And the battlefieJd's crimson flow. For here was a scene of another kind, — In the glow when the day was done, Those shadowy forms in battle array. Had changed with the setting sun. He offered his life for his Southland then 1 Fought true to the cause and vow, And gives with a prayer — his hat in his hand, His son to the Nation now. And the brightest gleam of that sunset eve Streamed over the men at drill, And the Southland boy in his coat of blue And the man by the tree so still. Statue heroic and figure of truth ! — So noble and great and grand, You give to us here a picture that tells The glory of all the land ! Repeating the song of freedom anew. You hear from the earth and trees The Voice of Faith which patriots heard When Our Flag first felt the breeze. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 123 And the vision that comes in the twilight there, Is seen through the word of command, As the troops mark time with the heart of him — The man with his hat in his hand ! Buffalo, January, 1900. DO NOT WAIT FOR DOGS TO BITE. ' "^r^RAY, do not wait for dogs to bite :^ 1 To prove that dogs are mad ! — Q^ Is a trite and homely maxim. With sense that is not bad. But every day some person stands Contending that he's right — That rabid dogs cannot be known Until they really bite I And men will, in a dogged way, Refuse the law's restraint. And if they're asked to muzzle dogs They wail a loud complaint. It takes so much convincing and Such proof that truth's no fad. That men will wait for dogs to bite To prove that dogs are mad ! 124 SOKGS AND EOMANCES. Yes, Dryden once profoundly said, Discarding thoughts of cure ; **In being mad, the madmen know. There is a pleasure sure!" And Goldsmith wrote about a dog And pique that once began Between the mongrel, whelp or hound, And friend, a Christian man ! The dog to gain his private ends Went mad, and bit the hand Of that old friend who kindly spoke, But never to command. And now, to show how wondrously Are canine plans defiled — "The man recovered of the bite; The dog it was that died!'* But this is not a common case ; — It only goes to show The fate that waits upon the dog That bites a friend, you know. And those who plan to save from harm And keep the households glad. Say: **Do not wait for dogs to bite To prove that dogs go mad ! ' ' Buffalo, October, 1899. SONGS AND KOMANCES. 125 \ THE CHARITY BALL. "j^HEY laughed and they danced the ^ merry night through, And they danced till the day was dawning ; And they laughed till the sky showed its ruffles of blue, And a light in the East showed the morning. Dame Rumor was there with a sneer on her lip- She was jealous of joy that was hearty, She whispered a word, just to give them a tip, And watched its effect on the party. The word sped along and next day o'er the town Consternation and wonder were blending ; Dame Rumor passed on with the self-same frown, And rejoiced that joy had an ending. Dame Rumor was busy last year just the same — What a fearful old jade she is, truly— 126 SON"GS AN^D EOMANCES. She cares not what scorn may attach to her name — In fact, she is always unruly ! At a Charity Ball meek Charity should Make brighter the glow of the tapers, And there Old Dame Rumor (if only she would), Should stop kicking up her vile capers ! Buffalo, January 2, 1897. t ONE OF THE CITY'S POOR. [A Picture from the Charity Distribution of the News.] E wouldn't support his family, He just idled ev'ry day, And what he did no one could tell — He never had much to say. He'd shuffle round and his movements. Told of a lingering doubt — Whether he should when out go in, Or whether when in go out ! But, if you wanted to find him, And he was not then in sight. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 127 You never could fail to see him At a beer saloon at night. Not that he ever was tipsy, Or staggering about, you know; But only a little muddled, From a *'treater's" overflow! He never had dimes for spending, And his '* score" was lost lang syne. For no one would trust a ** shiftless," Once caught on the *Hreater's" line! And so he shuflled and ambled, And loitered away his time — He wasn't really a criminal, But lived on the edge of crime ! *'His home?" Ah, here is a tender Tale of a love divine I **His wife?" A woman who married A lover below her line. And the lover spent her fortune. In his careless sort of way — Till wife and poverty, face to face, Greeted each other one day ! She never complained ! Devotion Sat on her brow a seal. Her lover was still her lover. She was his for woe or weal, 128 SONGS AKD ROMAKCES. Though reared in the lap of fortune, With delicate form and hands, She learned to work for her children— The tenderest of demands ! Ah, there in the line of claimants For the charity of the town, That noble woman is waiting With modest eyes cast down. At length she's caught in the surging- She is forced to the open door — And humbly she asks, and tells them, She's one of the city's poor! Buffalo, February, 1897. IF THE WIND DON'T BLOW. [At the Junction of Niagara Street and Main.] WE came down town one morning in a light and gleesome mood. His overcoat unbuttoned and no gloves uponhis hands. On Main street he was quizzical, but never, never rude — At Niagara street he lingered wjiere the Erie Bank ^ow stands. SOITGS AN^D ROMAN"CES. 129 His teeth began to chatter, His hat flew down the street, He made a grab — a clatter — 'Gainst those he chanced to meet. His coat he buttoned fiercely. And he muttered amid the snow: **Ah, never mind the weather If the wind don't blow!" She was lovely in her beauty, the next one that came near. She knew of ''Love and Duty" and she walked with little fear; Her hat appeared so jaunty — on her forehead fell a curl, And a loosely folded scarf was on the neck of that sweet girl. But then the wind came whistling With a fearful sweep and swirl, I saw that maiden blushing As she smoothed that flying curl; And then, a little further on. She said amid the snow : **Ah, never mind the weather If the wind don't blow!" Buffalo, February 5, 1895, 130 SONGS AlfD KOMAN"CES. THE NEW GRAND ISLAND BRIDGE. WELCOME! Thrice welcome! Con- gressmen and friends ! All Buffalo with hearty hands a hearty shake extends! This city, Queen of Lakes, 'tis true is cold in winter's snow, But warm the greetng is to those **Put off at Buffalo!" We'd rather you had come when spring or summer blooms were on. For really then this city is most fair to look upon. But river, lake and lawn have charms the winter's frost might pass, For warmth of friendship is not marked by mercury in the glass! The river, when the sun is warm and softer breezes play, Is sure to tempt the anglers forth, those idlers of a day. SOKGS AND ROMAISTCES. 131 But as the spring is some weeks off, with all her stores of wiles, We'll still rejoice as best we may and * 'bridge'* the time with smiles ! We've much to show you, Congressmen, while you may linger near. But *' steering committees" are not professional out here. Yet, as the men who've charge of things are men of heart and soul. They'll prove to be proficient in ** Committee of the Whole," But here are elevators grand and railways, too, galore. And here's the gateway for the grain that from the West doth pour, And here's the mouth of that canal that bears its commerce free, Which some contend is yet to float the ships that pass at sea ! And here's the mighty river famed in history and song — You should see it in the summer time and hear it swish along, And there's the Island just below, asleep in solitude, 132 SOJS'GS AKD KOMANOES. Where Trade has said: ** Awake! Awake! I hope I don't intrude!" But here I leave the party, to return o'er field and ridge, While others tell the story of the new Grand Island Bridge. Buffalo, February 4, 1898. THE SPARROW AND THE ROBIN. THE birds are hastening forward — They are seen on lawn and tree ; The robin and the bluebird, The swallow flying free. They skim along the meadows, They pause in trees abloom. They skip upon the growing grass. And hide in forest gloom. They haste to haunts they know so well, Scare waiting to take rest ; They wing their flight and anxiously They seek the old home-nest. SONGS AKD ROMANCES. 133 A Robin to a Sparrow said : **Why do you linger here Amid the snows and bitter storms, And hunger, all the year? **Why don't you seek the warmer climes, Where softer blows the wind ; Where food is plenty, and the sun Shines gentle, warm and kind?" The busy Sparrow paused awhile, Then said: ** Romantic friend. Your questions interest me so A willing ear I lend. '*Here is my home. I love it, and I cannot go away ; These neighbors and their children are My care from day to day. "My wants are few. I do not long For joy that travel lends ; I only care to live and die At home and with my friends. "These children that you see about, I guard them playing there ; This home, this garden, lawn and trees. Are mine for watchful care. 134 SOIs^GS AHD ROMANCES. *'What need I more? The porch or eave, The chimney, barn and all, Protect me, and there's One who sees The sparrow in its fall." Buffalo, May, 1895. } A NIGHT AT THE PLAY. HAD taken an orchestra seat At the Star on a Thursday night. And the rustle of gowns, and noisy feet. Were about me from left to right. The ushers were busy as bees. And swiftly flew through the aisles. There was bustle, and oh, there was "squeeze," There was pouting and then there were smiles. All the seats were filled but the two Just in front of me, and I'm sure That my queries that night were not few As I sat there and felt so demure. I wondered who would come in And sit in that forward seat. SOKGS AND ROMANCES. 135 If a man or woman? The din Of the orchestra stopped my conceit. A rustle ! The usher was there I And into that seat slipped a girl, Young and beautiful? Yes! She was fair; And her hat put my head in a whirl! The feathers were three! Large and black! A funeral pall for my eyes! And just when my heart felt the rack, That girl gave to me a surprise ! She gracefully pulled out a pin! Another I The hat fell away ! Oh, fancy the joy I was in When the curtain went up for the play! THE SNOW WHITE CRADLES. EE the cradles, snow white cradles! Oh, what thoughts they bring to all. Of the gleaming, dreaming, scream- ing days— those days beyond recall. 136 SON"GS AND ROMANCES. In that season, without reason, we could romp in wondrous ways Through the daytime and the playtime of those cherished childhood days. See the cradles, snow white cradles! Telling more than ours did; There is meaning in their gleaming, there's a secret in them hid : There are holy gifts, though lowly gifts within the painted toys, Kock them slowly, slowly, slowly, they are freighted with great joys! See the cradles, snow white cradles ! They are scattered o'er the town: They delight to thus invite you to call a bless- ing down ; There are children poor near every door who long for just a chance To see the play of waves — a ray of sunshine on them dance. See the cradles, snow white cradles! Kock them tenderly and true ; The little ones are waiting for a lullaby from you! When the breeze is softly blowing, their hearts are keeping time SONGS Al^^D EOMAKCES. 137 To the music of the waters on the shores that's called Sublime! Along the rippling river sails a boat with ban- ners free, And laughter follows after— shouts ring out in hopeful glee! She proudly floats out where the boats go swiftly o'er the tide, And dancing, joy enhancing waves sport by the vessel's side ! Buffalo, June, 1895. FORGET IT NOT. OIL the river water! Keep it Always boiling — always hot. Take a little tea and steep it. Ah, my friends, forget it not ; For they say in river water Microbes play all in the raw, Dangerous for your son and daughter, Parents, and your ma-in-law. 138 SOKGS AKD ROMANCES. Boil the river water ! Prudence Is the law we must obey, And the microbe in exudance Can no longer with us stay ! See the ills : There*s fevers various And diphtheria! Ills that grow — Making life in town precarious, Ah, be ever cautious ! So — Boil the river water. Keep it Always boiling — always hot ! Take a little tea and steep it — Or something else! Forget it not! T THE DAYS OF TRUSTS. HE days of trusts have come, they're here! The list is growing fast ! The puzzle is to make a choice Of those now rushing past ! The thread combine can't tangle you, Say leaders on that line; The marble trust has buoyant power, The 'lectric trust must shine ! SONGS AND ROMANCES. 139 The syndicates in Cuba now Are setting people wild, — The railroad and tobacco trusts Are not so very mild I And there's a host of New York men, Who love with trusts to play, Are forming now a trust canal In Nic-a-rau-gu-a ! The auto-truck's the scheme that takes- It grows and grows each minute ! One hundred million capital — And all the boys are in it ! Buffalo, January, 1899. LILY'S HOME FROM SCHOOL. UK little Lily's home from school, A **sick leave" calls for rest; And all the household seems so strange With gloom so manifest. But Lily's case, when diagnosed. Is overload of books — She carries them to school each morn Which nurtures pallid looks. 140 SOKGS AND ROMANCES. They are too heavy for the child, Now scarcely eight years old, And so her drooping looks and eyes Show lessons manifold. She is a little, nervous thing, With many gentle ways — So radiant in the joys of life. So happy in her plays. Her mode of life has always brought Contentment to her friends — A sweetness, like the rose that to The shaded lawn extends. Her winsome ways, her childish fears, Her anxious wish to learn. Have mastered by her childhood's charm All complications stern. But now, o'erburdened and oppressed, Our Lily droops and fades. Till rest, that potent comforter. Will draw aside the shades; And, yet, our Lily, like the one Obeying Nature's rule. Will soon revive through gentle care, And once more go to school ! Buffalo, October, 1899. SONGS AND KOMANCES. 141 WHEN WE WERE BOYS TOGETHER. w HEN we were boys, merry, merry boys! When we were boys together, Methinks it seems but yesterday Since we were boys together. —Old Song. When we were boys we loved the fun, The joy-provoking ways. The rough-and-tumble games and romps Of merry boyhood's days. The fishing places where delight, The swimming crowds ! What joys ! And balls and tops and marbles then Made sport, when we were boys ! And those who soothed our sore mishaps, And kissed away the pain, Can only come in dreams tonight And kiss us o'er again! 142 SONGS AND ROMANCES. Ah, bruises of our journeyings, Need touclies light as joys, For three-score years have passed and gone Since we were merry boys! Since we were boys, merry, merry boys, Since we were boys together ! Me thinks it seems but yesterday Since we were boys together! Buffalo, September, 1899. ^ BUILDING A BONNET. EFORE her table, and near the fire, Hattie viewed a '*frame" of wire. Which cost a trifle in cash. Next she took a velvet strip. Then to a bureau did she trip. And then I heard a rip — rip, rip ! — That seemed to be quite rash. A dainty flower, some sprays and tips She held, while smiles came to her lips; And then she sewed awhile. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 143 A flutter of lace, a lofty feather, Were placed so cosily together, — And then the maiden doubted whether She'd really frown or smile. But Hat tie worked with might and main — Put some things on — then off again, Yet still the bonnet grew. A buckle, ribbon and jets were brought. And such a combination fraught The bonnet became a **happy thought" Cost — a dollar or two ! Next day to church the maiden went, A day by her devoutly spent — In meditation lost ! 'Till a lady said to another quite near; *'See Hattie's bonnet; do, my dear, 'Tis really a ^pattern,' and 'tis clear A pretty price it cost!" Buffalo, December 9, 1893. 144 SONGS AND ROMANCES. FORGOTTEN LITTLE CRADLES. THERE'S something sad and sorely in the silent Cradle Banks, Which now seem so neglected — only full of grateful thanks — Reminders of the joyous times their mate appeals had sway, When Poverty was conquered, if only for a day I No outings by the meadows, no flowers in fields of joy; No romping where the wavelets all the summer hours employ; No gathering health from breezes ; no sunlight on the mind; No proof — no proof to show us that the world is always kind ! If in moments of forgetfulness the Cradle Banks are still, And liberal hands are listless, and inert the generous will ; ^ m o SOKGS AND KOMANCES. 145 It is not that the little ones our hearts no longer sway, Nor carelessness of records of our good deeds for a day ! There are moments in the life time of a people doing good That the duty of the hour is not justly under- stood ; When sunshine of prosperity may glow so very bright That the plenty which surrounds us may dim our generous sight! Let us today remember that the presence of the poor Is ever, ever with us, as they pass from door to door, • And much as we may do for these, the child- ren of His love, The Lord will do for children of our house- holds gone above ! Buffalo, July, 1899. 146 SONGS AND ROMANCES. BELOW ZERO. WOW the wind sweeps ! And the snow Flurries and follows the furious blast ! And below The ice lies thick and the pave's o'ercast, And Winter holds all the town in its grasp ; While closer and closer the Ice King creeps ! The night comes fast ! And the bells Hurrying hither and thither away, Sound sad knells On the bitter cold of the stormy day. Ah, the whirling snow and the dashing sleigh — The terrible rush of the north wind's blast ! Think of the poor ! Cheerless they — No fuel or food in a scanty room ; And no ray Of hope or relief from poverty's doom, While the winds, in mockery, sing in the gloom And snow dances in through the open door ! SONGS AND KOMANCES. 147 Hark ! on the wind There's a wail! Sounding alarm, as the storm hurries by, Through the gale ! There are people to save, and, oh, let us try ; Let us heed the loud call — let us stifle the cry ! We see the distress though the storm makes us blind ! Give but a mite ! And the deed Will gladden the homes and inspire anew ; And the need Is so pressing, the want is so true, That gifts which are speedy will double in view, And, Charity, passing, will smile at the sight ! Buffalo, January, 1897. .3* THE WORLD'S COMMON SCHOOL. THERE are many ways of doing things in shop and mill and store. And some are very curious and some are something more, But one thing I have learned, 'tis best, adopt one gen'ral rule 148 SONGS AND EOMANCES. And use a little Common Sense in the world's common school. We are learning something ev'ry day, and no one knows it all ; We are hunting for and storing grains of truth however small, But when we're puzzled in our search and try some proffered rule, We turn to Common Sense to guide the world's common school. There are teachers that environ us in many irksome ways; There is knowledge that will flee from us and effort oft betrays. We care not what the plan may be which men adopt to rule There's nothing like Old Common Sense to guide the common school. We'll find that it is best to be in **average8" all right; I SONGS AKD EOMANCES. 149 To keep our heads all bright and clear — our lessons all in sight, And when it comes to gathering the knowledge that will rule, 'Tis Common Sense will surely lead the world's common school. In city schools the plan employ when other ** orders" fail; When ^'systems" clash and **modes" appear to falter under sail. Just look aloft and see the clouds go scudding far away, When Common Sense asserts itself and gaily wins the day. Buffalo, December, 1896. J' GONE WITH THE FOURTH. HE glorious Fourth has gone ! The smoke, the noise, the full band and the banging of the drum. The rush,the buzz, the rustle and the hum, 150 SONGS AND ROMANCES. Will sound less cheerful as the days roll by — As fleeting time goes by. The glorious Fourth has gone ! The loud giant cracker, wrapped in the silence of the year, Cannot split the tympanum of your ear, Its crash and tumult bursting through its form, Its fire-encircled form. The glorious Fourth has gone ! And with it all the din and dust, the heat and other things, That the Fourth on its rounds forever brings. The fear of fire, the dread of children burning there. 'Mid scenes that seem so fair. The glorious Fourth has gone ! The excursions, and the swell of Erie's majestic tide; The girl who there stood trustingly beside You on the vessel's deck, fell limp and pale And gasped a fearful wail ! The glorious Fourth has gone ! And so have all these terrors of the patriotic day; SONGS AND ROMANCES. 151 The loss of money and the aches that play Sad havoc with our hopes, and then leave us With many things to grieve us. Buffalo, July 5, 1894. A VISION FROM THE CARNIVAL. ^HE Carnival! The Carnival! So beautiful and fair — Ah, lovely girls, in costumes quaint, With smiles and flowers, are there. A Turkish girl in flowing pants, With Swedish girls — enjoy Gossip with those from Normandie, From Rome and ancient Troy. A German girl walks arm-in-arm With girls from France and Spain, And Japanese with waving fans Are in Japan again. And up from all this loveliness — A scene resplendent, rare — Comes forth a vision on the clouds A castle in the air. 152 SONGS AND EOMANCES. Which, when the moving clouds disclose Its form from base to dome, Is seen, substantial, true and grand, The Press Club's future Home. RAINY DAY ADVICE. \ ( f There's a chance for you to do some M 9 WOMA]^, woman, woman! In this dark and murky weather, There's a chance for you to do some good — Now listen all together ! Lift your dress a little higher, As you walk along the street : Let your underskirts be pretty And your boots be trim and neat. Then the drabble, drabble, drabble. Of your silk or woolen dress. As you walk through slush and water. Will not give you sure distress !- Buffalo, January 22, 1895. S015rGS AND ROMANCES. 153 GOOD-BY TO LI HUNG CHANG. ET up early in the morning, young America, I say. For the Oriental leader will most surely come this way ! He's the man that wears the feather and the yellow jacket, too, And he comes to see the Yankees and what the Yankee Doodles do ! He made the firecracker, which knows its noisy biz, All the packs of little torments that sputter, squirm and fiz, And those giant loud reporters that go with such a bang — Wake up, young America, and see Li Hung Chang. At the Falls a bold celestial pro ad follower of Li, Viewed the rainbow hanging there as if fallen from the sky ; 154 SONGS AND ROMANCES. And mentioned that the Earl has many a radi- ant snap, But to pluck the yellow bow would be a feather in his cap ; When loud celestial laughter through the regal party rang, And each one bowed most humbly at the name of Li Hung Chang. At the Cataract the servants of the mighty Chinaman Sang the songs of far-off Pekin on the wondrous Chinese plan ; They praised the Flowery Kingdom in a rhythm soft and low. Then broke into the chorus *'Put me off at Buffalo!" And then a man stepped forward with a drum and gave a bang — "Sing that chorus once again," he said, for Li Hung Chang. They viewed the route celestials take to gain the Yankee side, SONGS AND ROMAKCES. 155 And laughed about the cunning tricks celestials play with pride ; They learned that here the smugglers of opium ply their wit, And some are caught and lose it all, while many more are — nit ! And all the stories told and all the songs they Had an interesting listener in Li Hung Chang. And now, good-by, celestial Li, wish you *'many happy days." Long may you live to introduce in China hon- est ways. You've seen *'01d Glory" waving o'er a land of sturdy Yanks, Who don't propose to suffer wrong or any foreign pranks. Give your people part of what you've seen amid the Yankee clang, And ages will revere thy name, brave Li Hung Chang. Buffalo, September 7, 1896. 156 SONGS AKD EOMANCES. FOOT-PRINTS IN THE SNOW. T WAS morn ! A virgin mantle Covered all the somber town ; I could see the glistening snow-flakes, From my widow, nestling down ; And the shouts of truant scholars With their faces all aglow, Drew my eyes toward a maiden Making foot-prints in the snow. Where the drift lay smooth and tranquil. Bright and pure from Heaven beguiled ; And each flake a diamond sparkled. Walked this lovely little child ; Never heeding tinkling school-bell. Little fearing teacher's blow, For her thoughts were only bounded By her foot-prints in the snow. Pretty child ! Her hood seemed falling, And her cloak was much astray. While she raised her dress so lightly, Never heeding those at play ; 1 SOKGS AND ROMANCES. 157 Thus with eyes intently watching, And with steps so very slow, Went this tiny maiden forward Making foot-prints in the snow. Bright and winsome little fairy ! You have drawn, with magic art, From the store house of remembrance Treasured pictures of the heart; Once again I'm treading pathways That I knew long, long ago ; Once again I'm by the roadside, Making foot-prints in the snow. Onward went the little maiden, Looking there so very sweet That the snow more brightly sparkled, 'Neath the pressure of her feet. Happy child ! serene and lovely, May your life-stream onward flow, And life-sorrows fade as quickly As your foot-prints in the snow. Chicago, Jannarv, 1879. 158 SONGS AND ROMANCES. ENGAGED. OME day I'll hold thee in my longing arms, Safe from all doubting grief and love's alarms, Soul-entrano'd and thrilled with thy sweet charms — Some day ! Some day ! Life of my life, I'll hush all love's alarms — Some day! Some day companionship — so true — we'll know — So strong and trustful it will bloom and grow That happiness will seem to overflow — Some day ! Some day ! Like a full goblet, jarr'd, 'twill overflow — Some day! Our souls, o'erleaping all the world 's alloys. Strong in the promise of eternal joys. Will heed no check which doubting faith employs, SoiQe day! Some day! SONGS AND ROMANCES. 159 Enraptured souls, inspired by promised joys- Some day ! How tenderly we'll guard our journeying way; How pure in thought we'll grow each passing day! All doubts will flee with those who would betray Someday! Someday! Treach'rous friends, and doubts, will flee away — Some day ! Some day we'll know each other's secret care- Each other's joy, or sorrow, we will share :— When storms arise I'll guard thee till 'tis fair- Some day ! Some day ! Loyal and true, I'll guard thee till 'tis fair- Some day ! Some day, together we will kneel and say: **Lord, give us light to know the perfect way, And will and strength to follow Thee, we pray!" Some day ! Some day ! Hand in hand, we'll walk the perfect way- Some day ! Some day, my sad, sad heart, oft comfortless, You'll fill >ith gladness, and my life you'U bless. 160 SONGS AND ROMANCES. Some day you'll thrill me with a wife's caress — Some day ! Some day ! O'ertask'd, or ill, I'll need thy soft caress — Some day! PARTED. (Written after reading a letter found on the field of Custer's last battle.) TIS over I We have parted and no fare- well word was said, And lonely must I journey on till one or both are dead ! No explanation of my course — no word to touch her heart; Oh, what a way for one who loves with one he loves to part ! **I thought you'd gone another way," she said with faintest smile; **I cannot go another way!" I answered, sad the while. What other way is left for me but where her feet may tread? What other sky is Heaven to me but that above Jier head? SOKGS AND EOMANCES. 161 She stood just at the doorway, and the door was still ajar, As yet quite near I followed her, though gazing from afar, **At least you'll let me write!" Ah, me! how could she that deny? But so it was, and soon the door swung to 'twixt her and I ! There's a brightness in the household where her moving form is seen ; There's a joy goes with her presence — but the door is now between, And as I turn to leave her, what a darkness doth appal ! My God ! Where shall I wander now, earth has no joy at all ! The world is full of sunlight and the air is full of song. For Nature's voices harmonize through all the summer long ! And, yet, I turn with longing look, with throb- bing heart and brain. For sunlight of a witching face I ne're may see again! I cannot, do not, blame her! There's a gulf 'twixt her and me 162 SONGS AND ROMANCES. As boundless, broad, expansive, and as deep as is the sea ! What a perilous place I stand on, by the thres- hold of her door. With darkness all around me and a dead hope just before. Gone from my gaze in beauty, like the star that falls at night, To leave a line of glory that may dim the watcher's sight! Gone from my gaze in beauty, and yet no cheery tone To strengthen will, and heart, and hand to battle on alone ! I do not blame the parting, for it had to come at last! I do not blame her coldness oft, for all of that is past! But, oh, when standing at the door and "Good-bye" must be said, She might have spoken words just then to raise the drooping head ! 'Tis over! We have parted, and the years that follow now Will lay their weight full heavy on a yet unwrinkled brow; SONGS AND ROMANCES. 163 But loving words, unuttered in a cold, dark world like this. In Heaven may find expression when our spirits meet in bliss ! THE BIRTH OF KISSES. — ^LLA WHEELER WILCOX, sensible "z^ and fair, v* How nicely you've defended lovers' . -i— < kisses And saved them from those doctors debonaire Who mar the fountain where so much of bliss is. They say that microbes linger round the lips Of beauteous maids — those lips we love to dwell on ; That from twin blossoms, rosy red, one sips Contagion, which so long we've rushed pell, mell on. Ella contends, in ages far away, Lovers made kisses for love's confession, And that the lovers of the present day Should claim a patent to prevent digression. 164 SONGS AND BOMANCES. How kind, how brave, how noble is the claim That love kills microbes and our bliss enhances; No more to see the shadow of a blame, No more to miss those dear enchanting chances ! Ella Wheeler Wilcox, we don't agree ! Dear mother kisses were the first ere given; A cherub baby's mouth so fair and free, Inspired the kiss — a patent sent from heaven. Reviving light shines through the darkling gloom, And hope is seen amid those fond caresses ; The shadows lift and joy finds ample room, — A mother's kiss her soul's delight expresses. And lovers, viewing the enraptured pair — The babe's delight — with mother's joy con- tending — Resolved to banish ills and trivial care. And through their lips, inspire their souls to blending. Buffalo, January, 1894. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 165 A NEW YEAR REVERIE. LITTLE gleam of sunshine. Sadness and a song ; A little bit of shadow, A cloud, a motly throng, A laugh, a look of pity, A hasty greeting here ; A parting and a ditty. The moisture of a tear — And these make up the cycle of a passing year. Now to the passing year do thoughts like these arise. To tell us of the swiftly fleeing hours. How short the span— a year ! We lift our eyes, And, lo, the snow drifts hide the summer flowers. Meetings and partings! Scenes so closely blending — Like summer foliage and the rustling leaves — While Love and Friendship messages are send- ing In grateful kindness over land and seas. 166 SOKGS AKD EOMAKCES. Oh, trusting heart, though short the time and fleeting, Eemember that our Heavenly Father's near, And from above He sends a loving greeting — His watchful care extends through all the year. A little gleam of sunshine. Sadness and a song, A little bit of shadow, A cloud, a motly throng, A laugh, a look of pity, A hasty greeting here, A parting and a ditty. The moisture of a tear — And these make up the cycle of a passing year. Buffalo, December 29, 1895. A WINTER SCENE ON THE PRAIRIE. r ROM a farmer's lonely dwelling, on a dull and cheerless morn. Went a youth to feed the cattle, but, alas I there was no corn ; There was ice upon the lowlands, where the chilly wind flew fast, SOKGS AND KOMANCES. 167 And the clouds, like ramparts frowning, seemed to hold the wintry blast. A dark line on the pairie, where the Machehaha runs, Marks a place for cooling shelter from the summer's burning suns; But the bare and brittle branches of the trees now sadly drear, Moan along the frozen waters like a death-knell on the ear. The youth looked to the eastward where the day god shines afar, But the dun clouds in the heavens had shut out the golden car — As if the drowsy angels, shivering through celestial light, Came down with hands too chilly to upfold the shades of night. As he gazes o'er the country — ^look! a shim- mering light is seen, — 'Tis the icy diamond's glitter on earth's jeweled carpet's sheen; And the dun clouds in the heavens, casting shadows as they pass. Can be view'd, as in a mirror, on the sea of frozen grass. 168 SONGS AND KOMANCES. Hark ! A sound comes from the rising of the hill beyond the streams, Where a dead oak's gnarled branches in the distance waves and gleams — It re-echoes through the distance in a long, vibrating note, — 'Tis the prairie wolf in hunger — 'tis the cowardly coyote. A deer has broken cover on the upland far away, It is making easy progress where the quiet shadows play : The breeze from prairie warrens now the wild dog's barkings bring, And the hawk afrights the game bird with the shadow of its wing. But the youth hears sadder noises than those upon the breeze. And he views a deeper shadow than those among the trees. For he's heard the neighbors telling that the cattle in the sheds Cannot rise for want of fodder from their cold and frozen beds. From the farmer's lonely dwelling on a dull and cheerless morn. SOKGS Al^D ROMANCES. 169 Went a youth to feed his cattle, but alas ! there was no corn; There was nothing that would strengthen on the ranges where they fed, And half the herd were dying, and — the other half were dead. Lawrence, Ks., March, 1875. THE MYTHICAL FAIRYLAND. ■J^HE children are thinking of Fairyland, ^ a mythical land of love, And they feel that the things they see in the stores are sent from the clouds above ; And Santa will come in a day or two, with his sleigh and his deers and all. And out of his treasures of beautifnr things a present for each will fall. Oh, mythical, mythical Fairyland, the land of the beautif al things. Spontaneous growth and magical means give Santa the treasure he brings. 170 SONGS AND KOMANCES. There's a river that flows in Fairyland with barges all laden with toys, And Fairies who sing and Fairies who tell of mythical, mythical joys; There are streets smooth and fine in that Fairyland, and wagons go constantly by, And horses with plumes nod their heads as they pass and the drivers are ever so spry. Those wagons are laden with candies and fruits, and dolls and aprons and gowns, And work of the Fairies goes on every day in homes and cities and towns. There's never a rest in Love's brave work in the mythical, mythical land, For none grow weary from daylight till dark where Love rules with gentle command. And no one's forgotten, for Santa has there the names of every one born ; His ponderous volumes tell where they live and never a leaf is torn ; There's grandma and baby and grandpa and boy and mother and father and all. Are called by their names when Santa Claus comes and presents from bundles fall. SONGS AKD K0MANCE8. 171 Oh, mythical, mythical Fairyland, the realm of beautiful things — Spontaneous growth and magical means give Santa the treasure he brings. Buffalo, Dec, 1898. A BABY'S TALE OF WOE. ELL me I pray : May a weak little voice be heard, 'Mid the din of the garish day? May a weak little cry go forth? Will you list what a babe may say' I'm a weak little thing! A boy! With a curious head and brain — Which expands as I sleep, and grows Till my body is racked with pain. Poor little babes like me, you know, See things through a glimmer of light. Slow, by degrees, in a fashion most queer. We wake from the Darkness of Night. So on as awake, a low, sweet voice. Sings softly a beauteous strain — 172 SONGS AND EOMANCES. And oh, once more the Silent Past And the Darkness is ours again. This is the first poor babies know Of deception and cruel wrong ; This is the first of a baby's woe, The first of the Lullaby Song. IVe learned that men work day and night, In dens both dark and deep, Forging the links of a Lullaby Song To entice little babes to sleep! Sleep! Oh, no! For the world is bright, And into its secrets we pry — What is mother thinking about? And why does she start when I cry? I cry ! and a bottle springs forth, I cry ! and there's running around. I cry! Paragoric is brought, I cry ! Till the spoon is found. I scream ! Consternation is there ! The nurse in alarm for my sake. Exclaims: **0h, dear, this child, I know; Has a terrible stomach ache!" SONGS AND ROMANCES. 173 A mystery quite is a babe ! Nurse turns me and throws me about, I'm bounced and trotted, bounced once more, And am tossed till I'm inside out." Then I'm tucked in a cradle bed, Till you can hardly see my nose, And, oh, that Lullaby again Is the source of increasing woes ! Papa comes in — his voice is loud ; **I will quiet that noisy boy." Out of the heated cradle bed I am lifted and thrilled with joy! There is fun in the household then And my laugh is an electric spark, Give us room! Give us light! Let's hide The Lullaby Song in the Dark ! Bujffalo, January, 1895. 174 SONGS AND ROMANCES. PUT THE PADDLE OUT OF SIGHT. Albany, N. Y., Nov. 24. — A.ttorney-General Daviea has written an opinion to the effect that paddling in a State Reformatory Institution is illegal. The opinion, so it said, is the outcome of a letter written by Supt. Brockway to the board of managers of the Elmira institution, asking if paddling would be permitted under the present law. UPERINTENDENT BROCKWAY asked the question 'tether day, If he and his old paddle could again begin to play — If his arm might have the practice it long had known so well, And his soul the exultation of flogging in the cell! It really seems he's lonesome with his paddle put away — He's eager to renew again its ''mild, persua- sive" play! And hear once more those plaintive cries that thrilled his heart with joy, When he tried to make a man grow from the paddle and the boy ! But never more we'll view again the sientific plan a SONGS AND ROMANCES. 175 That Brockway made so dazzling when the paddle course he ran — That results of reformation in its fullness you may see Where the paddle's plied with vigor and works industriously. But Brockway now must heed the law. He's baffled as we know — Though pity wouldn't soften him nor suffering ease a blow, His paddle falls, his arm's unnerved, *'persua- sive" rule is past. And right and fair humanity has come to save at last ! Buffalo, November, 1899. jf^ THE WINSOME VILLAGE GIRL. SO SING to others all the songs You ever heard in tune, Of summer girls and autumn girls And girls who wed in June ; Of college girls and city girls, And *' Hello girls" who call, Theater girls and waiter girls. Typewriter girls and all! 176 SONGS AND ROMANCES. There's one forgotten girl I know, As bright as e'er was seen, And in a realm of pure delight She reigns a perfect queen. Ah, pictures of your lovely ones Draw fullest praise, I'm sure, And all the girls I've mentioned here Have graces that allure ! But under leaves that shadow them The brightest flowers may bloom. And fairest pictures of the land Are formed in shade and gloom. And music does not always come From sources fair and bright. And eyes of friendship, loved so dear Beam oft in lesser light ! The maid I prize is lovely, Is witty, too, and smart, A helper in the household And sways with magic art, She can't be found in fashion's throng. Nor in its mazy whirl. You'll find her calm, serene and mild A handsome villege girl! At county fairs she can discuss A hundred useful things. W z o SOJS'GS AND R0MA2?^CES. 177 And joy that seems to bubble o'er Into her world she brings. She's trim and neat from head to feet, All hearts are in a whirl When on the walk she stands to talk — The winsome village girl ! Buffalo, September, 1899. THE LADIES OF CADIZ. 'D LIKE to go to Cadiz, Just to see those witching ladies. Those witching, witching ladies, where the orange blossoms blow. With their dainty cigarillas, And their quite too sweet mantillas — Oh, to Cadiz, with its ladies, I will go. And when our guns are booming, With a pity quite consuming I would say, *'0h, charming ladies, please to hustle now aboard. For, although we humble Cadiz, We don't war against the ladies. 178 SOKGS AND ROMANCES. And the ladies of old Cadiz need not fear the Yankee sword." And with their cigarillas, And their all-too-cute mantillas, I would load up every cruiser with this fasci- nating crew; And so by easy stages I would bring these fair hostages, All these ladies of old Cadiz far across the ocean blue. — Cleveland Plain Dealer. LADIES NOT OP CADIZ. Faith, you may go to Cadiz, To those dear, bewitching ladies — Those dainty, dark-eyed ladies and their glances fierce and wild ; As for me, at love's beginning, I like gentle girls and winning. Whose glances melt in languor and whose words are low and mild. Above those girls of Cadiz A blooming Yankee maid is — Far above the ladies that in Spanish cities play— SONGS AND ROMANCES. 179 And spend their time coquetting Or for lovers always fretting — As from their fans they ogle in a curious sort of way. Nor in Madrid, nor in Cadiz, Nor among the Moorish ladies. Can you find such lovely ladies as in Buffalo are seen — They are all the heart can long for, Or poet write a song for, As you view them on a cycle or playing on the green. Don't be lured by witching ladies Dwelling off in distant Cadiz — Those man-undoing ladies who bewitch you as you go- Never mind their cigarillas. Their old-time cut mantillas — For Yankee girls in shirt waists are the sweet- est things that grow. Buffalo, August, 1898. 180 SONGS AND EOMANCES. "THEY MAY TALK." 'HEY way talk of their balmy breathed May, And their lovely' and leafy month June, When' the birds sing their songs through the day. And the owl through the night scolds the moon. But dearer — still dearer, October art thou, And sweeter the murmur of winds through the trees, Oh, when in the year do days such as now Chase nights such as these? '*They may talk of their beautiful flow'rs. And the sweets that they waft on the air; Of the joys of the long summer hours. And rambles with those that are fair; Yet dearer to me are the sere-tinted leaves. And sweeter the fragrance of fruit-tree and vine ; — With her that I love my heart never grieves For others divine. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 181 "They may talk of their youth's sunny days, Of walks over moss-covered hills, Of scenes where the heart often strays, Or the songs that their memory trills ! Bat give me the present, I ask but the joys Of manhood to inspire my lay — For dearer by far than when we were boys Are scenes of today. "They may talk of their hopes and their fears, When Fancy would bid them to roam ; How Keality drown'd them in tears. When far from their dear native home. But give me the heart unconquer'd by Fate, And the eye that will quail not at Fear! Oh, who could know Love in a world without Hate; Or Joy — with no tear? Lawrence, Ks., October, 1878. THE FORGOTTEN PRAYER. S RANDPA, I've forgot my prayer!" Sobbed a winsome, weary child. From a bedroom warm and fair — But her grandpa only smiled. 182 SONGS AND ROMANCES. Little Rose had come that day On the cars from neighboring town, Just to romp and run and play Till the summer sun went down. Kneeling there by grandpa's bed, Little eyelids could not close Till the evening prayer was said — Mother taught to little Rose. *^ Never mind the prayer tonight," Was the answer grandpa made ; '^Go to sleep, I'll shade the light — There, my child, don't be afraid." *' Grandpa, oh, wha-t shall I do!" Came in trembling accents low ; I have always prayed for you — Papa said I must, you know. "Every night my mamma said, I must pray before I sleep ; Could not even touch the bed — And I must my promise keep." ** Daughter, you are all too nice, One time missed can't break the spell. And tomorrow say it twice — Surely that will do as well." SONGS AND ROMANCES. 183 Grandpa's look was full of care — Treacherous mem'ry would not yield — And uneasy moved he there, Helpless as the child that kneeled. Still the sobbing lips repeat: "G-randpa, start the prayer for me; And I'll make it all complete As when said at mother's knee." Calmness fell — In accents low Grandpa, trembling, then arose; *'Mary had a little"— *'No! No! no I no!' 'said sobbing Rose. Then in haste the Judge began — Seemingly he could not stop — **I'll repeat it if I can — Eock-by baby on tree top!" **!N'o-o-o!" came from the tot — Eyes too heavy now to weep And the prayer her lips forgot, Calmed her heart when fast asleep. ^ 184 SONGS Aiq-D KOMANCES. STORY OF THE DEGENERATE. LOW is my step through the city, and painful the thoughts that are burning ; Weary of wandering am I, 'tis useless to think of returning. The lights that shine through the windows, the joy of the throngs that are massing. Are nothing to me. I'm alone! Just one in the crowd that is passing. *' Nothing to me! I'm alone!" My compan- ions, my friends of the dawning, Have gone in the evening of life, and black is the sun of the morning. I shrink in the shadow and shade, I peer into faces of laughter — Once I was gay and my voice sounded up from the floor to the rafter! No Christmas for one such as I — no joy of receiving or giving ! No beautiful hands, soft and white, out- streched to a man who's just living. i SONGS AND ROMANCES. 185 There are faces, but, oh, they are those which mem'ry alone is recalling, There are smiles that fade in the haze, like & star that's flashing and falling. Oh, whence comes the taint in the blood that fires the soul to undoing — The passion unbridled, wild thoughts that sweep to the heart as if wooing? A barbaric camp on the hills in an age that*8 distant and hoary. Held followers free as the air whose arrows made lines unto glory. I've felt the mad impulse of those who have dwelt by the valleys and mountains, I've walked by the rivers with them and drank to their health in the fountains ; I have known in mysterious ways an impulse beyond my controlling — To do what would trammel my soul, while I scorned ev'ry word of consoling. The swish of the trees and the breeze, the clouds in their beautiful seeming ; The coming of swallows in spring, the allure- ments of summer's soft dreaming; The rush of the leaves and the roar of the winds in the wintry weather ; 186 SONGS AND ROMANCES. The moan of a voice on the shore, where life seems to die altogether — Those voices and sounds filled my soul with thrillings of fiercest desire — Oh, tell me, can longing be checked when the heart and the brain are on fire? Flowing on, flowing on from the past, from those far-distant, barbaric ages. There's a taint in the stream of descent ! — the ancestral fire still rages ! Oh, for a Christmas of love in that home that was ever so cheering, Oh, for the wishes of joy and the clasp of the hand so endearing ; Oh, for the gentle caress ! It was mine in the land of the living — No Christmas for one sach as I — no joy of receiving or giving ! Buffalo, December, 1896. 4 SON-GS AN"D ROMANCES. 187 A CHRISTMAS THOUGHT. HEEE is sunlight in the household where the children are at play, And parents grow more tender through this season glad and gay, For the glow of gen'rous giving, win- ning joy from every child, Shines and shimmers through the household like a light from heaven beguiled. There are homes that have no children — Heaven's sunlight streaming there Rests on silence that's disturbed not by the wee ones fond and fair ! Oh, ye mothers, who seem weary with the cares you have in view. Do you know how silent households, without children, envy you'r Buffalo, December 19, 1891. e^ 188 SOl^GS AND KOMANCES. QUESTIONS ABOUT THE WEATHER. W" HAT is the weather?" says he, says he; The heart gives sunshine to weather," says she. **Then if we should live together?" says he, "Will it always be sunshine for thee and for me?" JH ** Though it rains all the day," said she, said she, "There'll be sunshine at home for thee, for thee." "Then it won't be much of a shower," said he ; "No clouds can darken love's bower," said she. "Then I'll dwell with thee in all kinds of weather," Said the youth to the maid as they tripped off together. SONGS AND KOMANCES. 189 CANADA'S MERRY MAIDS AND MATRONS. [The ladies of Ottawa, Canada have been detected in meeting at a private club room where cards were played for money and where wines and punches were "passed along." — Newspaper Item." THE ladies are, in Ottawa, detected, In walking afternoons with careless air, Or looking sad and weary, or dejected. As if borne down with all too much of care. They walk along the streets so unaffected, So careless of the gaze of saucy men. So demure — they could never be suspected Of staying from their homes till half-past ten. Alas, it has been found that merry beauties; That maids and matrons, too, can have some fun. And throw aside awhile domestic duties — To let "maiden meditations" have a run. Ah, the change! From weary and dejected walking ! They're now within a room all furnished fine. 190 SONGS AND ROMANCES. And sprightly maids and matrons are all talk- ing; Yes, talking gossip there and sipping wine. No sadness now ! And games of cards amuse them, The playing stakes are hardly ever high. Fortune's fickle! But losses don't confuse them. For "household money" goes upon the sly. ** Woman's Club of Ottawa," ladies call it. And husbands, brothers, lovers seek the way, Their anger is so great they would appal it — , But ah ! the men have clubs and in them play! Buffalo, January, 1895. A SWEET CANADIAN GIRL. HE is winsome, wise and witty. And I'm sure she's very pretty — My sweet Canadian girl! A friend oft sympathizing. Yet a little tantalizing, But joyous and surprising My sweet Canadian girl. SOKQS AND ROMANCES. 191 Her birthday ! — I was guessing Of the years so gently pressing — > My sweet Canadian girl. But she wmixed me up in dates so She talked of sleighs and skates so Of love and lovers' fates so, My sweet Canadian girl — That she may be sixteen, under, Or twenty-five, by thunder — My sweet Canadian girl. Or she may be thirty-seven — But I know she is my heaven Whether thirty and eleven — My sweet Canadian girl. Ah, she's posted on the races Has many winsome graces — My sweet Canadian girl. But her age — I cannot guess it ! And the question — I'll not press it. For I'm sure she won't confess it — My sweet Canadian girl. Buffalo, January 25, 1893. 192 SOKGS AKD ROMANCES. YOU KISSED ME. YOU kissed me! And now I'm ashamed of the press You gave me when Eolly made bold to aspire. You kissed me ! I thought that I could not give less To Valor and Fame and the Flag we admire. But, oh, the vile sport to which kisses were made — An autograph card is the price that you name. And Valor looked humbled to witness the trade, While meek Admiration stood weeping with Fame! Buffalo, December, 1898. SONGS AND EOMANCBS. 193 LEAVE THEM UNSAID. I EAVE them unsaid, when lips feel in- I } clined to IX. Say bitter things when passion's a- dl — 4 wheel ; Leave them unsaid, just when you're a mind to Break into torrents of taunts that are real. Wasting your strength in passionate railings Answers no purpose, and leaves but a sting ; Men only see 'tis yourself that have failings, There is no comfort that anger can bring. What if you say that a man who's a neighbor, Known to be generous all the year round. Shows but deceit in his speech or his labor, Words that convince are not these, I'll be bound. Stand by the man who's a friend when you need one — Ready to aid in a time of distress; Giving a hand all anxious to lead one ; Lifting a load when its weight doth oppress. 194 SONGS AND ROMANCES. Ah, it is true that words thus unspoken Leave no indebtedness going unpaid ; Silence will give to the heart a sure token When joy takes the place of words left unsaid. Leave them unsaid, when lips feel inclined to Say bitter things, when passion's a-wheel; Leave them unsaid, just when you're a mind to Break into torrents of taunts that are real. Buffalo, Sept., 1897. FLEETING SUMMER DAYS. I /vi Thp vines against the wall wM M - ' I |UTUMN^ flowers are flaming red. The vines against the wall Show that their deep'ning color's fled And change is over all. The lawn is losing beauty, too, The trees a gloom portrays, And nothing seems so bright and new As in the summer days. Oh, summer days ! Oh, summer days ! Pray linger yet for long. Too fleeting are your winsome ways, Too short your thrilling song. SONGS AND ROMANCES. 195 We've only seen the fleecy clouds Go sailing o'er the sky, We've only felt the balmy air Go softly, swiftly by! These manhood days ! These manhood days ! Seem all too few. Alas, We long for them, and when they come We fain would hold them fast. Oh, fleeting days of summer. How beautiful you seem — But short'ning hours and falling leaves Pronounce you but a dream. Buffalo, September, 1899. A WONDERING FISHERMAN. 0' , CAN you answer, stranger, now. What makes that angler look. So steady on the line he's cast That holds his baited'^hook? Say, does he count the number there bf fish he'll catch ere night — Or does he fear a sturgeon will Upset him ^by a bite?' " 196 SON^GS AND ROMANCES. *'Ah, no," the stranger gruffly said, **He's wond'ring, do you see. Just where he'll get the cash to buy, This string of fish from me!'' SHE COULD NOT LIFT THE CUP. THE race, Sir Lipton says, was grand. And Iselin says the same ; The sturdy captains of the yachts Agree the race was game ! With wind so strong the ocean heaved And tossed the Shamrock up, But pull and strain howe'er she would She could not lift the cup ! It was a goodly sight to see ! — The Shamrock leads the way ! But soon Columbia, rail awash. Dashes great clouds of spray ! They round the outer mark with heads Like greyhounds pointed up, Tho' Shamrock strains from head to helm, She cannot lift the cup ! 4 SONGS AND ROMANCES. 197 Over to Jersey's shore they go, Columbia in the lead ! "While Shamrock follows, sure and quick, And with increasing speed ! Neither will shorten sail, as now The home mark's looming up, Strain, Shamrock, strain! — 'Tis useless now — You cannot lift the cup ! Buffalo, October 21, 1899. BELLES OF ST. LOUIS. CHARMING, charming Cora Baker! Sweet is she as love can make her! When asleep the angels take her Where no earth-born revels wake her ! In fact, 'tis true. Very bright is Cora Baker! Ah, those eyes, sweet Cora Baker! Ah, those pearly teeth, Miss Baker! Ah, those glorious lips, Miss Baker ! I'm not Jn love! Are you? 198 SONGS AND KOMANCES. Sweet and true is Paramore, Standing there, inside the door ; Her eyes with love are swimming o'er, And her lips I quite adore ! In fact, 'tis true — Charming is sweet Paramore; Soft her step upon the floor, And her cheek is more and more The peach's bloom when summer's o'er. I'm not in love! Are you? Very charming is Miss Brown When she drops her eyelids down! Bound and smooth and white her chin, And her mouth has pearls within ! In fact, 'tis true — Very charming is Miss Brown, And she's adored by all the town! Her eyes are bright, no froward frown E'er marred the face of sweet Miss Brown! I'm not in love! Are you? But there is one I do adore ! She's sweeter far than Paramore ! Sweeter far than Cora Baker When the angels shake to wake^her ! And 'tis true. 4 SONGS AND BOMANCES. 199 Sweeter far than is Miss Brown When she drops her eyelids down. ***** Queen-like is her step ! Her eye Has all the brightness of the sky ! And her brow is — oh, so fair! Sunlight plays amid her hair ! Lips so tender, pouting, too ! Smiles that thrill you through and through! Ah, she sings with such an air- Angels come to listen there ! I am in love! 'Tistrue! St. Louis, Mo., June, 1884. ECHOES FROM AN OLD KEY-BUGLE. ULL twenty years have flown since then!" Why, comrade, surely no ; It cannot be ! Yet time glides past Swift as the river's flow, And he whose bugle-call we praised Has many years been dead ; No more we'll hear "tattoo" resound From lips of "Putty Ned." 200 SONGS AND ROMANCES. Where Erie bounds in mad career, Above Niagara's fall, Was heard full oft by list'ning ear A well-known bugle-call ; Full oft where Captain BidwelPs boys Their hardy camp-life led, Was felt the charm that music lends, In strains from *' Putty Ned." And men who camped with * * Company D , " And Fletcher's troop would tell How cheering was the bugle so und, That sweetly rose and fell; No other music had a charm, When cares of camp had fled Like those pure airs sent proudly forth By stalwart *Tutty Ned." A bugle, not of silver made Nor burnished bright and fine, But, oh, its notes were heard with joy Along the steady line ; And then, at night, beneath the stars, In silence deep, profound. That old key— bugle charmed the camp With magic of its sound. Yes, twenty years have flown since then, And music with its power I SOXGS AND EOMAXCES. 201 Has held us rapt in many a spell, Bewitching many an hour; But when the heart is thrilled the most, We rest the drooping head To hear the faintest bugle- tones From far-off ** Putty Ned." And many times since then I've thought, When stirred by memory's sounds. If soldiers form the night bivouac In heaven's camping-grounds, How quick, should that old bugle there Sound forth all full and free, Would Fletcher's troopers, friendly still, "Fall in" with "Company D"! THE MAN WITH THE SHOVEL. 'HE man with the shovel is in review — Ah, he is a hero I say. For he stands the boldest I tell what's true — You can find in the streets today. The shovel flies fast as the snowflakes there And a path is made for the feet of the fair. 202 SONOS AND ROMANCES. The man with the shovel! Ah, see him there, Strong of muscle and stout of frame ; His thoughtful face has a look of care, And none may know from whence he came, He throws the snow where the strong winds meet And a path is made for the children's feet. The man with the shovel ! He braves the blast. Blinding snow and threatening sky; With hurrying winds his hands move fast — He bravely works where drifts are high. And a path he makes with timely care For the slowing feet of an aged pair. The man with the shovel ! Ah, where does he dwell?— Down in the city's humble part; And what's his name? I cannot tell, I only know he's stout of heart, And where the snow drifts block the street He clears a path for the people's feet. Buffalo, March 2, 1900. SONOS v\ND ROMAXrES. 20^ ENGLAND WEARS THE GREEN. HOUGH dark are our sorrows, today we'll forget them, And smile through our tears, like a sunbeam in showers ; There never were hearts, if our rulers would let them, More form'd to be grateful and bless'd than ours. — Thomas Moore, Prince's Day. 'Tis Valor's triumph over ills, That have been felt through many years Which makes South Africa's distant hills The sepulcher of Erin's tears. Yes, in the battle's front and high On hills where footholds are not seen. That, battling for the Queen, they die— Those Irishmen who wear the green. Ah, brave were they in years gone by. When, battle-pressed, they saved the day 204 SON"GS AXD IIOMAXCES. By making charging squadrons fly And conquering in the mortal fray, But never have they shone so bright In martial spirit, shine or sheen, As now, and when in mad delight All England wears the Irish green ! The past is but a troubled dream, The present shines in glorious light ; See Erin's flag, its emerald gleam Shines brightly from the darksome night. Hail, beacon of a brighter time. In darkness held and held too long, Go tell the brave in every clime. There comes a day that ends a wrong ! How grand the songs of Erin rise To greet the ears of stalwart sons, When valiant nations, in surprise, Have heard reports of Irish guns. And up from every mountain crag Are shouts where valleys intervene — For England flies old Erin's flag! And England wears the Irish green! Buffalo, March 18, 1900. ,,,V,^RARy OF CONGRESS ^WW^^ii^