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CHRISTMAS GUESTS 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 ^(SH£ 
 
 ROBERT Aj^GHESEBROUGH 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 PRESS OF J. J. LITTLE & CO. 
 
 1905 
 

 C£^ 
 
 LIBRARY of UONGfiiess 
 Two Copies rlsueivBu 
 
 MAY 23 lyub 
 jooyriijfi' ciiifv 
 
 COPY b. 
 
 Copyright, 1905, by 
 ROBERT A. CHESEBROUGH 
 

 TO 
 
 MARGARET WOODHULL DAVISON 
 
 THIS VOLUME 
 
 IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED 
 
 BY HER 
 
 GRANDFATHER 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Christmas Guests 7 
 
 Why I Love My Lovte 22 
 
 Lost Pearls 24 
 
 A Visiox 27 
 
 A Reverie 31 
 
 An Idyl of Seabright 48 
 
 My Maud, My Marguerite 53 
 
 " All is Vanity, Saith the Preacher " 55 
 
 Luxor 58 
 
 Why Love is Blind 60 
 
 A l'Aide, Mon Roi 63 
 
 The Earthly Love 66 
 
 Drifting 70 
 
 Our Father which Art in Heaven 73 
 
 " Anything to Beat Grant " 74 
 
 The Maid with the Golden Hair 77 
 
 Wood-fire Fancies 80 
 
 Monotony 85 
 
S:; o 
 
 3 2 
 
 
CHRISTMAS GUESTS 
 
 ERRY CHRISTMAS? Thank you, 
 yes! I knew 'twas Christmas Eve, 
 And I wish you Merry Christmas! 
 and I would I could believe 
 'Twas as merry as I wished it, for us all, as well 
 
 as you; 
 For all the world as merry as for the favored few. 
 But I beg that you will leave me ; go out and shut 
 
 the door; 
 Don't mind me if I lock it, for I wish to ponder 
 
 o'er 
 The many merry Christmases which, gliding 
 
 down the years, 
 Have brought their shares of joy and grief, of 
 laughter and of tears. 
 
 Will I need you? No, I thank you, naught else 
 
 I need to-night 
 But the favor of your absence; as you go, put 
 
 out the light. 
 
8 Christmas Guests 
 
 Is any one expected? No one you'd care to 
 
 greet ; 
 My guests are mine — mine only — not those 
 
 whom you should meet. 
 How will they enter? ask you. Well, in truth, 
 
 I do not loiow ; 
 But all the same they'll be here, so you need not 
 
 wait below: 
 I have told you all I mean to, so let nothing more 
 
 be said; 
 Don't stand there idly prating, but please leave 
 
 and go to bed. 
 
 At last, alone with silence in the glimmer of the 
 fire. 
 
 And with throbbing thoughts of visions wliich 
 will neither cease nor tire : 
 
 On this Merry Christmas evening, I am waiting 
 in the gloom 
 
 For the spectral guests I've bidden to the hearth- 
 stone of my room. 
 
 Coming, are you? Yes! I know it, for I feel 
 my heart stand still. 
 
 And the air which wafts your presence thro' 
 my pulses sends a chill: 
 

Christmas Guests 9 
 
 By your leave I'll draw up closer to the embers 
 
 of mj^ fire ; 
 Don't think it's fear that moves me, or that I 
 
 dread your ire. 
 
 Enter freely — Merry Christmas! Will you take 
 
 chairs or stand? 
 I know little of the courtesies which rule the 
 
 spirit land; 
 But, pardon my abruptness, you are welcome, 
 
 let's to work ; 
 You are not here for nothing, and I nothing 
 
 mean to shirk. 
 Don't spare me, I can bear it, whatever you re- 
 veal; 
 And memory shall separate the shadow from the 
 
 real. 
 Your ghostships I will recognize, of that you 
 
 need not fear ; 
 My heart, perchance, may bleed afresh, but eyes 
 
 shall shed no tear. 
 
 Do I know you, youthful image? 'Tis a form 
 
 I once did bear. 
 With limbs full strong with vigor, and a shock 
 
 of curly hair. 
 
10 Christmas Guests 
 
 And a soul as white as paper, free from seams 
 
 of sin and woe; 
 Do you come here to upbraid me with forty years 
 
 ago? 
 And your neighbor? He's the fellow who 
 
 thought the world was bright ; 
 Who loved to roam on horseback 'midst the vvhis- 
 
 pers of the night, 
 And to watch the waves by moonhght, on a still 
 
 and starlit shore, 
 Thrilling with a wild desire for wealth and fame 
 
 and lore. 
 
 Yes ! I see you also, standing close by the chan- 
 cel rail, 
 
 A fair, sweet form beside you, on her Iiead a 
 bridal veil: 
 
 And the sunshine slanting downwards from the 
 frescoed dome o'erhead, 
 
 Seemed to augur joyful promise for the vows 
 which then were said. 
 
 Don't taunt me with that mirage; she is dead, 
 and on the wall 
 
 Hangs her picture, and the horror of her dying 
 I recall 
 
Christmas Guests 11 
 
 With a sense of mortal anguish, which fiends 
 
 might laugh to view; 
 But my brain, I think, was iron, and so it pulled 
 
 me through. 
 
 Come from that darkened corner! You're the 
 
 imp who in my ear 
 For thirty years has whispered, with feverish 
 
 hps of fear, 
 " That the thing to get was money," the stuff 
 
 that men most prize; 
 Don't think I'm longer blinded by the glamour 
 
 of your lies. 
 For you're a mighty liar: and the thing to keep 
 
 is health. 
 And it has a value greater than all your boasted 
 
 wealth : 
 And another one is honor, and some more are 
 
 truth and right : 
 I can hardly bear your presence amongst my 
 
 guests to-night. 
 
 But I Hstened to your whispers, and I toiled both 
 
 night and day; 
 And I trampled down the obstacles which always 
 
 blocked the way. 
 
12 Christinas Criiests 
 
 Did I spare myself? you're asking. — Well, no; 
 not much, I guess; 
 
 And so I've won the vantage which the world 
 has deemed success. 
 
 Adding more to more with eagerness and avari- 
 cious looks; 
 
 Fingering piles of dirty money, adding figures 
 up in books. 
 
 Till the brain turns sick and giddy, and is weary 
 of the whole. 
 
 'Tis a fine and lofty business for an immortal 
 soul! 
 
 Yet the iron chain of habit will enclose you as a 
 
 cloak ; 
 As a si:)onge half filled with water, tho' it ooze 
 
 it still will soak: 
 You are fastened in the meshes of a web which 
 
 will not loose ; 
 No longer are you master, and no longer can 
 
 you choose. 
 'Tis as tho' you'd live forever, and there was no 
 
 death to blight, 
 Or if there was, you recked not, for it was not 
 
 yet in sight, 
 
Christmas Guests 13 
 
 Learning nothing from the warnings which are 
 writ on every side, 
 
 Till you're dead as Julius Caesar, and swept out- 
 ward by the tide. 
 
 Still, I've dreamed of something higher, what it 
 
 is I do not know. 
 But I know its genius touched me, for I felt its 
 
 lambent glow 
 Just a moment, then it flitted, then it left me in 
 
 the gloom. 
 Sliding backwards, gliding downwards, as one 
 
 drowning, to his doom. 
 And then groping in the blackness, dazed and 
 
 'wildered by a flame 
 Which dazzled from a distance, thro' an ebon 
 
 darkness came; 
 Far beyond all reach and compass, seeming only 
 
 meant to taunt. 
 Neither heart, nor tongue, nor reason giving an- 
 swer to my want. 
 
 As threads of lightning ghmmer 'midst a sum- 
 mer evening sky, 
 
 As flashes from the firefly flare up and quickly 
 die. 
 
14 Christmas Guests 
 
 As trains of splendor follow in the shooting 
 
 meteor's wake, 
 As a pebble splashes f aUing on the bosom of the 
 
 lake : 
 So — my soul is stirred within me by immortal 
 
 whispers deep, 
 I do not know the language, nor its meanings 
 
 cannot keep; 
 As I strive to grasp and hold them, they are fled; 
 
 and everywhere 
 Seems a chaos which is empty, into which I 
 
 vainly stare. 
 
 But who are ye who cluster in my tapestry 
 
 beyond? 
 White faces rising dimly, like lilies from a 
 
 pond : 
 Why, you're an army almost, a motley vast 
 
 array, 
 Pleading dumbly; it is useless, I would know 
 
 you any day. 
 No need of false pretences, you're a pack of 
 
 vain regrets, 
 Spinning backwards down a lifetime, deaf to 
 
 prayers and tears and threats ; 
 
? I 
 
 5:, 
 
Christmas Guests 15 
 
 What's the use of deaUng with you? — it is profit- 
 less, too late ; 
 
 All the power of all the demons cannot mend the 
 webs of fate. 
 
 And those silent spectres yonder, standing over 
 by my door, 
 
 Pouring something from weird goblets on the 
 carpet of my floor; 
 
 Eyes staring in meek wonder, clad in robes of 
 many hues ; 
 
 Your absence from this meeting I would will- 
 ingly excuse. 
 
 For you're the good intentions who doth follow 
 one thro' life. 
 
 Meaning always to act nobly, always failing in 
 the strife ; 
 
 And the thing you pour is Nepenthe; ah, yes, I 
 know it well, 
 
 'Tis the liquid which doth saturate the paving- 
 stones of Hell. 
 
 And the weird and vagrant shadows in the cor- 
 ner of my room. 
 
 Like unto giant serpents, wrestling fiercely in 
 the gloom; 
 
16 Christmas Guests 
 
 Writhing, tearing in still fury, rearing high their 
 
 horrid crests, 
 Why, it almost sets me laughing to think sucli 
 
 should be my guests. 
 Evil passions! Yes, they're legion, and they 
 
 come forsooth, unhid. 
 And he's a doughty hero who can fasten down 
 
 the lid 
 Of the seething vat which pours them o'er the 
 
 pavement of his path : 
 He must either be their victor or the victim of 
 
 their wrath. 
 
 Yon giant in his armor broken, shattered, bent 
 and stained. 
 
 With his lordly plume bedraggled, tells of tri- 
 umphs past and waned; 
 
 And his rusted sword scarce hanging in a scab- 
 bard, ragged, worn. 
 
 Is the type of dead ambition, ended, wasted, lost, 
 forlorn. 
 
 And the transient shapes of vision sailing by me 
 on the wall, 
 
 blocking at me in derision, yes! I recollect 
 ye all 
 
1 
 
 
 So '^ 
 
Christmas Guests 17 
 
 For the lost illusions fleeting by forever from 
 
 my brain, 
 Yet I trusted in and loved ye, but believed in 
 
 ye in vain. 
 
 And the woman clothed in sable, standing silent 
 
 over there, 
 Pointing at me with thin finger, glaring at me 
 
 with fixed stare ; 
 Let her speak her errand freely, why comes she 
 
 here to-night, 
 On this Merry Christmas evening, this good 
 
 company to blight. 
 With her wan, reproachful figure — what have I 
 
 with her to do ? 
 You say " She typifies remorse, is pointing 
 
 straight at you." 
 At me? a man of honor, whose word is good as 
 
 gold; 
 Whom people laud with justice: I forgot, the 
 
 room is cold. 
 
 I was posing; I admit it — for the moment I for- 
 got 
 
 That spirit eyes could penetrate, develop every 
 blot; 
 
18 Christmas Guests 
 
 Could tear to shreds the raiment which to the 
 
 world seems fair, 
 And leave us standing naked, for the hypocrites 
 
 we are. 
 She is therefore rightly present; it is well she 
 
 came to-night ; 
 Altho' she wring my heart out, I will endure the 
 
 sight. 
 Bowing meekly in her presence, firmly stifling 
 
 every groan: 
 Who dares her lurid bosom, takes her later to his 
 
 own. 
 
 Is most of hfe a pretence, and honor only 
 
 sham? 
 Position, wealth and power merely screens to 
 
 hide the man — 
 To cover up his defects, and make the surface 
 
 bear 
 The semblance of the virtues which he arrogates 
 
 to wear? 
 Are critics' eyes less searching than his own 
 
 which reach within? 
 Are men but sycophants at heart, who recognize 
 
 no sin 
 
:5i O 
 
Christmas Guests 19 
 
 But that which stalks in flagrance, red-handed in 
 
 the light ; 
 And ignore that which may exist, because not 
 
 plain in sight ? 
 
 And the little crowd behind me? Good deeds! 
 
 you say, are they. 
 Well, I wish that it was larger ; and I hope some 
 
 Christmas Day 
 That my room will scarcely hold it, so there'll be 
 
 no space for you. 
 For I grieve to say I've not enjoyed this Christ- 
 mas interview. 
 But I'm weary of your presence, I've had 
 
 enough to-night. 
 Pleasant spectres. Merry Christmas! Now 
 
 please leave me and take flight — 
 Leave me plotting in the darkness, how to Hve 
 
 that, when 'tis o'er. 
 Life was not wholly wasted — but than evil good 
 
 was more. 
 
 Vanished! Are ye? Merry Christmas! there is 
 
 vacancy once more 
 In the precincts of my chamber, and my festival 
 
 galore. 
 
20 Cliristmas Guests 
 
 It is ended. — Am I dreaming? Why, I thought 
 I was alone ; 
 
 You, unHke the other phantoms, are to me at 
 least unknown. 
 
 I am not good at guessing. State your pur- 
 pose and your name : 
 
 Why, you wear a crown of fire, and your gar- 
 ments bathed in flame : 
 
 Why, your presence weighs upon me and withers 
 up my breath : 
 
 Now I know you, — INIerry Christmas; thou art 
 welcome, mighty Death ! 
 
 Farewell to Merry Christmas! farewell to Time 
 and Earth! 
 
 I'm leaving for the shadowy land where Christ- 
 mas child had birth ; 
 
 To probe its starry firmament, to solve its un- 
 known field ; 
 
 To tear its mysteries apart, its wonders all re- 
 vealed : 
 
 To rise from earth to spirit form, to face the 
 light of day. 
 
 The garb of flesh, its ills and wants, forever 
 swept away : 
 
Christmas Guests 21 
 
 To wander 'midst the spheres of space. — Regret 
 
 it? No! not I, 
 For death the ladder is to hfe, and living is to 
 
 die. 
 
 Or else — to rest forever in a long, unbroken 
 sleep, 
 
 Thro' the years and down the ages, in a slumber 
 vast and deep : 
 
 Unruffled by a murmur, or the effort of a dream; 
 
 Of thought or self no remnant left, of conscious- 
 ness no gleam : 
 
 While time goes toiling onwards, and the moun- 
 tains and the sea 
 
 Destroy and build for myriads, who are yet to 
 die and be : 
 
 This were a paradise most blest, a bourne of ease 
 and bhss : 
 
 What creed affords such certain rest, what 
 Heaven can equal this? 
 
WHY I LOVE MY LOVE 
 
 LOVE my love because she is my love. 
 What need of other reason how or 
 why ? 
 
 This only know I, that she is my love : 
 I could not tell you more if I should try. 
 
 It may be that she is not quite so fair 
 As other maids have been to other eyes. 
 
 But what of that to me? — she is my love, 
 And in that spell her total glory lies. 
 
 What if her eyes are brown, and into mine 
 Gaze with the tranquil light of faith and trust? 
 
 She doeth this because she is my love, 
 And, loving me, she doeth what she must. 
 
 The air seems perfimied when my love draws 
 nigh. 
 
 The day seems fairer when she passeth near. 
 Her touch is gentle as the zephyr's sigh, 
 
 Her voice to me is music of the sphere. 
 
Why I Love My Love 23 
 
 I love the ground her Httle feet step on, 
 1 love the rustle of her simple gown, 
 
 I love the flowers she loves to look upon, 
 I love my love, and she is my renown. 
 
 I love the day because she nearer seems ; 
 
 I love her most at morn, at noon, at eve ; 
 I love the night because she comes in dreams, 
 
 And fills with joy the slumbrous air I breathe. 
 
 If words were hymns, and all the tunes of song 
 Were mingled in one anthem rich and rare. 
 
 No age would me suffice, however long. 
 To lay the rapture of my passion bare. 
 
 What would you else ? I have no more to tell. 
 Mere eloquence of tongue seems poor and 
 vain: 
 I love my love, and in that potent spell 
 
 Are soul and body wrapped, and heart and 
 brain. 
 
LOST PEARLS 
 
 I^^^^IHOU hast left it too long, it is ebbing 
 
 ^pJL^p I In the mad strife for money; its 
 power and sway, 
 
 Unregarded, unnourished, unwept and unsung, 
 Have perished with youth, and the strength of 
 the young. 
 
 No longer the visions, the beauties of mind, 
 Which swept by thee in legions, in hues of all 
 kind. 
 
 Weird fragments of color, rare tableaux of 
 
 light- 
 No longer they sway thee, but only a blight 
 
 On the will and the soul settles down with a pall, 
 A paresis of effort which buries it all. 
 
Lost Pearls 25 
 
 Oh, wasted ambition! Oh, groveller in earth! 
 But a tithe of the vigor for things which are 
 worth 
 
 All the toil thou hast wasted on nothings and 
 
 gold 
 Might have made thee a being of different 
 
 mould. 
 
 But vain are regrets at the zenith of power, 
 To seize at their birth the wild thoughts of the 
 hour, 
 
 To clothe them in color, to deck them in rhyme : 
 Once let them escape, they are gone for all time. 
 
 Well, long mayest thou dawdle with paper and 
 
 pen, 
 Waiting idly for muses which ne'er come again. 
 
 Ah! fool, canst not see that the wealth of thy 
 
 brain 
 By Time's brand and thy vanishing youth has 
 
 been slain. 
 
26 Lost Pearls 
 
 Strike, then, while the iron is hot in thy vein, 
 Strike instant and ever, again and again. 
 
 Ere the rust and the mildew have tarnished its 
 
 sheen, 
 And the fibres of action no longer are keen. 
 
 More pearls in the sea lie entombed and unborn 
 Than the gems which are saved — from its bosom 
 are torn. 
 
A VISION 
 
 ST/IM BEHELD a lofty mountain lifting to 
 M^m the farthest sky, 
 ')1LM And upon its utmost crest, wreathed 
 in clouds of brilliancy — 
 There, a golden palace stood, builded by im- 
 mortal hands ; 
 And the lustre of its glory spread o'er all the dis- 
 tant lands. 
 Glowing with a clear effulgence, and a mild and 
 
 holy light ; 
 Thro' the sunshine of the morning, and the 
 
 blackness of the night. 
 Then I heard faint music swelling, over all the 
 
 land and sea ; 
 E'en to earth's remotest 'dweUing, bearing sweet- 
 est melody. 
 
 All the peoples of the nations, upward bent their 
 
 yearning gaze ; 
 Upward, toward the golden palace, and toward 
 
 the devious ways 
 
28 A Vision 
 
 Winding on the lofty mountain, round and 
 round in various lines, 
 
 Paths, and zigzag roads, and thickets scattered 
 o'er its vast confines : 
 
 And there seemed a countless number, pressing 
 on with toiling feet. 
 
 Up the painful pathways climbing, o'er the rock 
 and up the steep ; 
 
 There I saw the hardy yeoman, priest and lay- 
 man, maidens mild; 
 
 Many a fainting, weary woman, and the mother 
 with her child. 
 
 And it seemed that all the pathways leading to 
 the mountain's crest 
 
 Were intricate and wearisome, with scarce a 
 place to rest : 
 
 While many a broad and noble road, with shaded 
 nooks and trees. 
 
 Branched downward from the stony paths to 
 those of pleasant ease. 
 
 And of the countless multitude, who on the glori- 
 ous shrine 
 
 Had fixed their longing eyes at first, with con- 
 stancy divine, 
 
A Vision 29 
 
 It seemed as tho' a little band, of all that host 
 
 remained, 
 Which neared the mountain's topmost land, the 
 
 golden palace gained. 
 
 And all the rest of that vast throng, lured by the 
 
 love of ease. 
 Or by some tempting view, which served their 
 
 wayward souls to please. 
 Forgetful of the golden shrine, now hidden from 
 
 their sight. 
 Had missed their way, and wandered o'er the 
 
 mountain's dizzy height. 
 Adown some darkhng precipice, unwary ones 
 
 were hurled ; 
 While some retraced their steps again, regretful 
 
 of the world : 
 Unheard the glorious melody which, with celes- 
 tial air. 
 Still floated through the canopy, and lingered 
 
 everywhere. 
 
 And evening came, and twihght had bathed the 
 
 mountain's crest 
 In a robe of crimson splendor; and the sun was 
 
 in the west 
 
30 A Vision 
 
 Slowly falling; yet the warning, all unheeded, 
 
 on them fell. 
 As though some evil spirit had o'er them cast its 
 
 spell. 
 And darkness drew its mantle, and then the 
 
 gates of gold 
 Were sadly closed, and blackness dropt down its 
 
 sable fold; 
 And as the door shut swinging, passed the 
 
 Vision from my eyes. 
 And fainter grew the singing, till lost within the 
 
 skies. 
 
A REVERIE 
 
 |0W the hours of light are ending, 
 And the slowly setting sun, 
 With the sky its glory blending, 
 Signals that the day is done. 
 Wave on wave in crimson legions, 
 
 Bank on bank of azure light, 
 Pathways to the heavenly regions, 
 Day coquetting with the night. 
 
 Sadness o'er my spirit stealing, 
 
 Mingled with a strange delight. 
 To my soul a gUmpse revealing. 
 
 Joyous, painful, sad yet bright; 
 Earth before my window fading 
 
 Into nothing; one fixed glance 
 Chains my fancy, leads me wading 
 
 Thro' a weird, delicious trance. 
 
 Sombre hues are swiftly changing. 
 Gold and purple strands of light; 
 
 Giant clouds, like armies ranging, 
 Sweep their glories from my sight. 
 
32 A Reverie 
 
 Twilight coming, slowly, surely 
 Turns the golden vision gray; 
 
 Darkness falling fast, securely 
 Wraps her mantle round the day. 
 
 Now the lamps of heaven are lighted 
 
 By unseen seraphic hands, 
 Beacons for the souls benighted, 
 
 Roaming in those trackless strands; 
 Spirits from the distant heaven, 
 
 Never wearied in their flight; 
 And perchance to them is given 
 
 Knowledge hidden from our sight. 
 
 Backward down the path of ages 
 
 Runs a train, a countless one. 
 Of unlearned men and wisest sages. 
 
 Watching, with faint hearts, the sun 
 Sinking in its bed of splendor. 
 
 Wondering what the mystery meant; 
 If the future state should render 
 
 All its meanings, and extent. 
 
 Working out in short probation. 
 Tangled skeins of earth and life; 
 
 Deeds of sin, the pomp of station, 
 Cruel acts of selfish strife. 
 
A Reverie 33 
 
 Souls of those who once were mortal. 
 
 Sons of toil and slaves of sin, 
 Waiting, till the deathly portal 
 
 Yawned at last and drew them in. 
 
 For a brief and fleeting hour 
 
 Standing on the shore of time, 
 Till the wave's resistless power 
 
 Sweeps them past the border line ; 
 Like a billow of the ocean. 
 
 Rising with a crest of foam, 
 Grand and beautiful in motion, 
 
 Breaks, recedes, and then is gone. 
 
 So our lives go, following after 
 
 Each the other's even tread ; 
 Rising, cresting, breaks in laughter, 
 
 Foams in rage, and then is dead ; 
 Leaving naught to trace its being 
 
 In the grasping undertow: 
 Weary are the eyes at seeing 
 
 Still that everlasting flow. 
 
 From the passing cycles gleaning 
 
 Scraps of knowledge, flakes of gold; 
 
 All the total, nothing seeming 
 To the centuries of old. 
 
 3 
 
34 A Reverie 
 
 Arts forgotten, science hurried 
 To its doom, but at its birth : 
 
 Swept away, and quickly buried 
 In the all-consuming earth. 
 
 Delving deeply, later ages 
 
 Raise a mouldy stone to light, 
 Aim to read its defaced pages, 
 
 And restore its form aright; 
 On a pedestal erected 
 
 In some Louvre, perchance, is stood, 
 There to stare and be inspected 
 
 By the gaping multitude. 
 
 Spectre of a nation vanished, 
 
 Phantom of a rude o'erwhelm ; 
 Ghost of ages dead and banished, 
 
 Mocker of a ruined realm; 
 Typical of ^eons fleeting, 
 
 flighty mimic, grim and vast ; 
 Telling how the earth is eating 
 
 Up the baubles of the past. 
 
 Science tells of earthly matter, 
 Naught is ever wholly lost, 
 
 Tho' its atoms widely scatter. 
 In tumultuous changes tost ; 
 
A Reverie 35 
 
 Somewhere in the vast creation 
 Will be found each minute grain; 
 
 Changed in form, remote in station, 
 Still, the total bulk the same. 
 
 And the learned sage will show you 
 
 God is only nature's power ; 
 With a soul he will endow you. 
 
 Fleeting as this twilight hour ; 
 Transient as the meteor's flight 
 
 Shooting past the watcher's eye; 
 Flashing with a moment's light. 
 
 Buried in a midnight sky. 
 
 From the seething, cooling masses. 
 
 Tells us : " comes the finished earth," 
 Rock and metal by their gases, 
 
 Through a spectroscope: " their birth.'* 
 And the feeble Hfe beginning. 
 
 Teems ere long thro' all the realm; 
 That, evolution always winning, 
 
 Upward tends, and guides the helm. 
 
 Ever changing, ever rising. 
 
 From the monad to the ape; 
 Each improving form revising. 
 
 Yields at last the human shape : 
 
36 A Reverie 
 
 And as need demands new uses, 
 Grafts them on the former kind; 
 
 Striding o'er the worn abuses, 
 Instinct turns at last to mind. 
 
 Is that mind pulsating slowly, 
 
 Symbol of an august reign. 
 Only yeast, which filters wholly 
 
 Thro' a dull gray mass of brain? 
 Lighting up the moorland dreary 
 
 With the glimmer of its light: 
 Startled by the effort, wearj^ 
 
 Flickers out into the night. 
 
 Man at heart is but a savage. 
 
 Varnished with a thin veneer, 
 Freed from all restraint, would ravage; 
 
 Checked by pride, and ruled by fear: 
 Instincts from his ape ancestor 
 
 Linger yet within his frame; 
 Masquerading as a Nestor, 
 
 Baboon still, except in name. 
 
 Equal of the beasts which perish. 
 
 Greater only in degree. 
 What are worth, the things we cherish. 
 
 Honor, truth, and dignity? 
 
A Reverie 37 
 
 What — the use of toiling, striving? 
 
 What — the need of end or aim? 
 Is a perfect life worth living 
 
 If there's only left a name? 
 
 Can the day, the sun forgetting, 
 
 Independent radiance claim? 
 What the diamond to the setting, 
 
 What the lamp is to the flame; 
 So — the body to the spirit. 
 
 Is the shell which holds the pearl: 
 Shall clay eternity inherit. 
 
 And spirit vanish in a whirl? 
 
 Is the value of the casket 
 
 Greater than the gleaming gem? 
 Is the perfume of the basket 
 
 Sweeter than the flowers within? 
 Shall the body hve forever. 
 
 And the soul forever die? 
 And shall matter, ending never. 
 
 Gain o'er mind the mastery? 
 
 Fool! the mighty power which made thee. 
 
 Lit the spark of life within, 
 Is so great, so far beyond thee. 
 
 That the mind can ne'er begin 
 
38 A Reverie 
 
 To grasp the raiment of its grandeur, 
 Guess the problem of its birth; 
 
 Look! the stars that round me wander 
 ]\Iock the Httleness of earth. 
 
 Aye! that priceless earth, thy dwelling, 
 
 Adds to the whole an atom more ; 
 The might of God's creation swelling, 
 
 As counts a sand upon the shore. 
 What, then, is thy weak opinion? 
 
 Whence this vain and empty pride? 
 See ! the driftwood of the ocean 
 
 Goes out with the ebbing tide. 
 
 In the dim horizon fading, 
 
 Out beyond the feeble sight ; 
 Each returning wave evading, 
 
 Sucked into the endless night ; 
 On the trackless waters floating. 
 
 Sinks at last beneath the wave ; 
 While remorseless time is gloating 
 
 O'er the conquest he hath made. 
 
 Is the tale of man's redemption, 
 Terrors of the judgment-seat, 
 
 A Saviour's loving intervention. 
 Only fiction and deceit? 
 
A Reverie 39 
 
 That, the Christian's fond endeavor, 
 His hope to gain the promised view, 
 
 Merely dreams, which fade forever? 
 Then, oh ! then, is nothing true. 
 
 Vain the work of swindled ages. 
 
 False the prophets and the seers ; 
 False the lore of saints and sages. 
 
 Vain the martyr's holy tears; 
 Shattered is the sweet illusion. 
 
 Lost the faith which looks on high; 
 Life — the merest weak delusion, 
 
 Inrniortahty a lie. 
 
 After centuries of error. 
 
 Too late the scheme to be revis't; 
 Man, awakening from his terror, 
 
 Tramples on the throne of Christ. 
 Nothing, then, is worth the knowing. 
 
 All attempts to build are vain; 
 Futile, planting seed and sowing: 
 
 Chaos has returned again. 
 
 Useless is the gentle Saviour, 
 
 Stripped of His divinity; 
 Patience, love and meek behavior 
 
 Cannot make a God for thee. 
 
40 A Reverie 
 
 Down the ponderous structures rattle, 
 Falls the arch without the key; 
 
 Might as well give up the battle, 
 From the worthless rubbish flee. 
 
 Oh ! could one sure sign be given, 
 
 Bring conviction to the mind; 
 Proving that the God of Heaven 
 
 Is not stone, nor deaf, nor blind ; 
 Coming from the silent stars, 
 
 Wiping all the mystery out; 
 Rend the everlasting bars, 
 
 Banish every torturing doubt. 
 
 Day and night succeed each other, 
 
 Months and years sweep quickly by; 
 Aeons pile on one another, 
 
 While the Earth rolls down the sky. 
 Factions war, and rend and rage. 
 
 Build a fabric from a crumb ; 
 Adding creeds from age to age. 
 
 Still the silent stars are dumb. 
 
 Faith alone, O doubting mortal. 
 Only faith can pierce the scroll 
 
 Which obscures the mighty portal; 
 Up the envious curtains roll. 
 
A Reverie 41 
 
 Trust not to the strength of reason, 
 'Twill crumble as a tower of sand, 
 
 Deluding for a transient season; 
 Faith alone yields solid land. 
 
 Cling to that with fond endeavor, 
 
 Be thy creed whate'er it may; 
 Forms and dogmas pass forever, 
 
 With the coming light of day. 
 Strip't from man's poor w^eak invention, 
 
 I^Iighty truth alone shall rise, 
 With a glorious ascension. 
 
 And illuminate the skies. 
 
 Burning out the dross of ages. 
 
 From the pure refined gold; 
 Blotting from the bigot pages. 
 
 Hoary lies too long enrolled. 
 Kive the chains w^hich strongly bound ye, 
 
 Sweep the mists from off the land: 
 And as morning breaks around ye. 
 
 See the Rock of Ages stand. 
 
 Aye! and it shall stand forever, 
 Fiercely tho' the torrents run, 
 
 Like a wild, tumultuous river. 
 And the clouds obscure the sun. 
 
42 A Reverie 
 
 Bravely, tho' the wave breaks o'er it, 
 It shall rear its crest on high; 
 
 Future millions shall adore it : 
 JNIan, infallibly, shall die. 
 
 Priestly rule, which led the masses 
 
 In a maze of 'wildering doubt ; 
 Blindly blocked the easy passes, 
 
 Blew the lights of science out. 
 Trod upon the knowledge dawning. 
 
 Burnt its heralds at the stake ; 
 Grieved to see the light of morning 
 
 O'er the Earth triumphant break. 
 
 Ruled the world with rod of iron, 
 
 Gave the conscience for mankind; 
 To the tiger and the lion 
 
 Flung the independent mind. 
 Made the law for a Creator, 
 
 Steeped in self -idolatry ; 
 Truth, the final expiator, 
 
 Lives eternal as yon sky. 
 
 Claiming all, yet knowing nothing, 
 Selling pardons for a price; 
 
 War and strife and discord sowing. 
 Stifling virtue, lauding vice. 
 
A Reverie 43 
 
 In its ignorance presuming 
 
 Power over all the sod ; 
 And with arrogance assuming 
 
 The omnipotence of God. 
 
 Think you, that in all these horrors, 
 
 Cruelties and blood and pain ; 
 That the peaceful " ^lan of Sorrows " 
 
 Can recognize his work or reign? 
 Fire and death and wreck of nation. 
 
 Over all its flag to flount ; 
 Are these the things to claim relation 
 
 From the Sermon on the Mount? 
 
 Incense making dense the air, 
 
 Purple vestments, cloth of gold; 
 ]Music floating rich and rare. 
 
 Solemn chant through arches rolled; 
 Costly temples, gilded dome. 
 
 Steeples wrestling with the sky; 
 Altars wrought in brass and stone. 
 
 These — in praise of Calvary. 
 
 When the centuries have hurried, 
 
 A new cycle towards the last ; 
 When the coming age has buried 
 
 All the rubbish of the i^ast ; 
 
44 A Reverie 
 
 Then shall Earth, revived, awakened, 
 Find the truth, and break the seal ; 
 
 And wisdom's path anew re-takened, 
 Separate the false from real. 
 
 Shattered all the idols cherished, 
 
 Kings and tyrants swept away ; 
 Rising from its ashes perished. 
 
 Breaks a new and better day : 
 Joy for man, and morn for nation. 
 
 Night no longer rules the Earth; 
 Solved, the problem of creation. 
 
 Proved, the reason for its birth. 
 
 Broken, all the bonds of labor. 
 
 Riven, all the chains of mind; 
 Humanity towards one's neighbor 
 
 The highest duty of mankind. 
 Stilled, the strife and wars of faction. 
 
 Quenched, the feverish thirst for gold; 
 Life, a field for thought and action : 
 
 Fires of superstition cold. 
 
 Harmless all the powers of evil. 
 Fabled hell and Papal ban ; 
 
 Silenced, the malignant Devil, 
 
 Freed from chains, the soul of man. 
 
A Reverie 45 
 
 Soaring from its debris higher, 
 
 Topphng heights unreached before; 
 
 Wresting off its dross entire, 
 
 Sweeping through the golden door. 
 
 When the judgment books are opened. 
 
 And a world awaits its doom ; 
 When the dread decree is spoken. 
 
 Creeds and cant will find no room. 
 Righteous acts will fill the measure. 
 
 Words prove cheap, professions stale; 
 Works alone will count as treasure. 
 
 Deeds, not prayers, will there avail. 
 
 Who art thou, O wondrous stranger. 
 
 Cleaving space v/ith giant stride? 
 Is some ruined world in danger. 
 
 Hath its Lord been crucified? 
 Is its day of judgment dawning? 
 
 Must it kiss the fiery rod? 
 Art thou speeding without warning, 
 
 The executioner of God? 
 
 Earthward sweeping — comet is it. 
 Ploughing through the azure vault, 
 
 Paying stars a fiery visit, 
 
 Never knowing rest nor halt ; 
 
4G A Reverie 
 
 Trailing onward, stopping never, 
 Suns and systems speeding by; 
 
 Trails of splendor dropping ever, 
 Thou, knight-errant of the sky. 
 
 From the awful depths of ether. 
 
 Rushing with the lightning's pace; 
 Rule, nor order, knowing neither. 
 
 Foe to all the laws of space. 
 Weird the train which follows after, 
 
 What thine errand, gay or sad? 
 Thou mightst move the stars to laughter. 
 
 Thinking thee a sphere gone mad. 
 
 Only thou canst reach the station, 
 
 Of the farthest stars of all; 
 Probe the limits of creation, 
 
 Plunge against the final wall. 
 Find where ends the great beginning. 
 
 Where begins what ends no more; 
 What the power which hurls thee spinning 
 
 On through space for evermore. 
 
 Where the cosmic dust is sifting. 
 Building world and satellite ; 
 
 Where a million suns are drifting 
 In the awful infinite ; 
 
A Reverie 47 
 
 Aghast, the scope of mortal vision, 
 
 Ages counting as a span ; 
 Mocking, as in sheer derision. 
 
 The vast egotism of man. 
 
 Microbe of a genus, atom, 
 
 Globule on a tiny earth. 
 Product of a strange erratum. 
 
 Offspring of disputed birth; 
 This, the ant, whose sage opinion 
 
 Would dominate eternity: 
 Penetrate the grand dominion. 
 
 Of the everlasting sky. 
 
 Yes, I'm coming. Are you calling? 
 
 Have I sat here all the night. 
 Thro' the links of fancy falling. 
 
 Reckless of the dawning light? 
 Are the little ones still sleeping? 
 
 Dear, I did not know 'twas day : 
 Surely you have not been weeping? 
 
 Fades my Reverie away. 
 
AN IDYL OF SEABRIGHT* 
 
 g|EYOND the Narrows, straight down 
 the Bay, 
 From the city, a score of miles away. 
 There's a strip of sand, which bars 
 the sea 
 From the silver river of Shrewsbury. 
 Above it, twin beacons of Neversink rise 
 On the crest of the Highlands, glad'ning the eyes 
 Of the mariner, home on the bosom borne 
 Of an angry sea, on a night of storm. 
 
 Scarcely a furlong is the land wide, 
 Washed is its j^ellow sand by the tide; 
 Gleaming it lies 'neath the noonday sun, 
 Glist'ning and cool when the day is done; 
 But oft, when the tide is at its height, 
 And the wind ariseth in its might ; 
 The restless billows leap the shore. 
 And into the peaceful river pour. 
 
 * This is a true story, occurring at Galilee, Seabright, and was de- 
 scribed in the New York Sun many years ago. 
 
Biit doicu the hcdcli, 'midst the sand/j nits, 
 li'iscs a group of fislierinen's lints. 
 
 — Ax Idyl of Seauukiut, pajic \9. 
 
An Idyl of Seahright 49 
 
 Built on this narrow strip of sand, 
 The picturesque dwelHngs of Seabright stand. 
 The summer homes of the rich are here ; 
 Thronged is the beach when the sky is clear; 
 Idly the crowd in the breakers lave; 
 Cool is the kiss of the splashing wave; 
 Away to the south doth the ocean roll, 
 Unchecked, till it lashes the southern pole. 
 
 But down the beach, 'midst the sandy ruts. 
 Rises a group of fishermen's huts; 
 Paved is its single street with shells, 
 Rank with the odor of fish it smells. 
 Hardy the race who sojourn there; 
 Homely and coarse the clothes tliey wear; 
 But brave and strong, as men must be, 
 Who gather their bread from the mighty sea. 
 
 Just as the sun from the ocean shrank, 
 
 Teddy and old Comstock and Frank, 
 
 Out from the beach their surf boat staunch^ 
 
 Safe through the rolling breakers launch. 
 
 Many a fisherman shook his head. 
 
 For the sky with clouds was overspread; 
 
 Yet food must be won, and tears must be shed. 
 
 The first for the living, the last for the dead. 
 
50 An Idyl of Seabright 
 
 In with the oars, and up with the sail, 
 
 Plenty of time, ere riseth the gale; 
 
 While the storm gathers, " we'll fish 'midst the 
 
 lull," 
 Who cares for the warning crj^ of the gull? 
 A harvest of fish to land on the beach, 
 A tribute of praise to the courage of each; 
 The boat is as staunch as the hearts of its crew ; 
 And fear is for them to whom danger is new. 
 
 Down with the sail and over the lead, 
 
 Swiftly it dives to its sandy bed; 
 
 Fish after fish come over the side. 
 
 Light are the fishermen's hearts mth pride. 
 
 Beware! for the sun has veiled its light, 
 
 The seas are growing and capped with white; 
 
 Now, the gale breaks wdth a sudden roar; 
 
 " Boys, it is time to make for the shore." 
 
 " Frank! cut loose the lead with your knife; 
 To your oars, Teddy, and pull for your life! " 
 Old Comstock shouts above the gale, 
 Unsteps the mast, with its flapping sail. 
 Into the ocean flings sail and mast : 
 For both are useless before the blast. 
 
§ ^ -I 
 
 cq ^ 
 
An Idyl of Seabright 51 
 
 Released — the boat glides on through the sea, 
 Urged by both wind and wave on the lee. 
 
 Bravely they toil at the bending oar, 
 Around them the sea gulls pivot and soar ; 
 Fainting their hearts, and their sinews worn, 
 Behind them follows the pitiless storm. 
 Right through the breakers, their only path; 
 Foaming and raging wild, in their wrath: 
 A big black wave takes a hand in the strife, 
 And the fishers are fighting with death for life. 
 
 Visions of loved ones, a glimpse of home, 
 A gasping for breath, and a battle with foam; 
 Tossed on a breaker, close to the shore. 
 Sucked out again in the undertow's maw ; 
 Despairing, the glance which is caught of the 
 
 sky, 
 On the crest of a sea, then drawn back to die ; 
 With the foam for a shroud, and the sea for a 
 
 grave : 
 'Midst the rush of the water, the swash of the 
 
 wave. 
 
52 An Idyl of Seahright 
 
 To-morrow — the skies will have cleared, and 
 
 then, 
 To-morrow — the boats will go out again; 
 To-morrow — the sea will be smooth and calm; 
 To-morrow — forgotten its power to harm. 
 The grief of the hamlet will pass away soon. 
 And the men will be fishing again at noon ; 
 For food must be won, and tears must be shed : 
 The first for the living, the last for the dead. 
 
MY MAUD, MY MARGUERITE 
 
 ^^^Y Maud, my Marguerite! 
 My little dove, 
 So eloquently sweet 
 And fair. Thy love 
 Is more to me 
 
 Than life or gain 
 Can ever be. 
 
 Thy gentle name 
 Fills up my life. 
 
 And bids me seek 
 My lasting joy in thee, 
 My Marguerite. 
 
 My Maud, my Marguerite! 
 
 Upon thy brow 
 Sit Truth and Purity 
 
 As white as snow. 
 Thy gentle voice. 
 
 That darling little hand: 
 No maid so fair 
 
 In all the land. 
 
54 My Maud, My Marguerite 
 
 To live for thee, 
 
 This hfe were sweet, 
 
 My darhng Maud, 
 ^ly Marguerite. 
 
 My Maud, my Marguerite! 
 
 Both joys and pain, 
 ^lay welcome come, 
 
 If not in vain: 
 ^ly trust, my hope. 
 
 Are strong in thee, 
 Nor Time revoke 
 
 Their constancy. 
 Thy joys all mine. 
 
 And mine thy grief; 
 My own dear INIaud, 
 
 ]My Marguerite. 
 
"ALL IS VANITY, SAITH THE 
 PREACHER " 
 
 |LL things are Vanity, earth cannot 
 give 
 The joys we seek after, and for 
 which we Uve; 
 The future but promises hope, which proves vain, 
 And when present it yields us but sorrow and 
 pain. 
 
 The silver-Hned cloud, which floats calmly above. 
 And seems a bright Eden of bliss and of love. 
 Is a vapory mist, which deceives but the eye. 
 And changing its outline is lost in the sky. 
 
 The love which you sought, and which promised 
 
 to prove 
 A bliss which Death only could ever remove. 
 Though sweet, is so mingled with sorrow and 
 
 care. 
 As to lose the clear halo it first seemed to wear. 
 
56 '' All Is Vanity, Saith the Preacher " 
 
 The dreams which you dreamt, from your ear- 
 
 Hest days, 
 Of successes and triumphs, the golden-hued rays 
 Of a glorious manhood, how have they been met? 
 And years creeping on find you dreaming them 
 
 yet. 
 
 The gold which you toiled for, perchance may 
 
 have won; 
 Does it bring you the joys you once thought 
 
 'twould have done? 
 Is the taste of its splendor as sweet to the lip 
 As you dreamed 'twould have been when you 
 
 struggled for it ? 
 
 The chalice of bliss, which at last you have 
 
 gained. 
 You have tasted the dregs ere its contents are 
 
 drained ; 
 The roses of youth, they have vanished, have fled. 
 And shrinking to ashes, lie withered and dead. 
 
 The conqueror's wreath, the bright garland of 
 
 fame, 
 'Twas to deck thy young brow with a glorious 
 
 name; 
 
"" All Is Vanity, Saith the Preacher" 57 
 
 Oh ! how has it faded, that dream of thy Hf e : 
 Its heritance bitterness, mockery, strife. 
 
 All things are vanity: Heaven alone 
 Gives hope of a life which shall fully atone 
 For the vain disappointments which follow us 
 
 here. 
 Have faith, for the wealth of the grain is the 
 
 sear. 
 
LUXOR 
 
 Haze thou in yonder glass, 
 
 Look deep into the Hneaments 
 Which, seared by the Hnes 
 That scar their visage, tell 
 Of thoughts and acts embosomed there 
 Which thou alone canst judge. 
 Then turn and face the world, 
 And ape unsullied attitude, 
 Image of all that men admire. 
 Blush not, there is no wizard glass 
 To penetrate the soul; 'tis God alone 
 Can write thee as thou art, 
 And hurl thee from thy lofty virtue. 
 Has age brought surcease of thyself 
 And sponged away the clouds of ink, 
 The blots which soiled life's pages? 
 Lives there yet he for whom repentance 
 Hath no place, then mark him do^vTi 
 As one for whom Christ died not — 
 The hypocrite who has no need of heaven, 
 Who was not born in sin. 
 
Luxor 59 
 
 It does not need to blaze 
 Thy misdeeds to the world, 
 Nor mouth them to the church ; 
 But seek not to deceive thj^self , 
 And when thy brother's crimes 
 Rush hot to men and Heaven, 
 Join not in hue and cry, 
 But draw sweet charity's mantle 
 Round him, and stone him not. 
 Of all men born into this world 
 But only one was sinless : 
 Be sure thou art not He. 
 
WHY LOVE IS BLIND 
 
 N ev'ry age, in ev'ry clime, 
 
 Where streamlets stray or bright 
 
 stars shine, 
 Have dreamers writ, and poets sung, 
 Of Love, the beautiful, — the young. 
 
 They paint him as a truant boy. 
 With wings of light, and face of joy. 
 With bounding step and voice as clear 
 As ever spake in maiden's ear. 
 
 With bow and quiver in his hand, 
 
 He wandered over ev'ry land, ) 
 
 And shot his darts with careless glee, 
 
 Or e'en one thought of sympathy. 
 
 Woe to the luckless swain or maid. 
 Across whose path our " young Love " strayed. 
 Quick flew the shaft, the deed was done, 
 Smiles changed to sighs, and peace was gone. 
 
Why Love is Blind 61 
 
 Now, Jove, who for a good long while, 
 Had watched the urchin with a smile. 
 Began to think the time had come 
 To put an end to poor Love's fun. 
 
 Before the Throne, with downcast eye, 
 Our hero stood dejectedly; 
 The mandate harsh and stern he heard. 
 Yet Love, he uttered not one word. 
 
 His golden bow was in his hand. 
 And on it lay a winged brand ; 
 Thought Love, " I'll quickly answer you. 
 And, quick as thought, the answer flew. 
 
 Jove saw the act, and turned aside. 
 The missile from its mark flew wide; 
 Else, in the realm Love first had been 
 The conqueror of gods and men. 
 
 Dismayed he stood, and pale with fright. 
 His ruby lips turned ashen white, 
 And he who never pity knew. 
 With tears for mercy dared to sue. 
 
62 Why Love is Blind 
 
 Then Beauty, at the feet of Jove, 
 Added her tears to those of Love, 
 And Jove could stand, no more than I, 
 Youth, Love and Beauty's tearful eye. 
 
 'Twas, therefore, left for Love to choose 
 Whether he would his eyesight lose. 
 Or, from the world forever sent, 
 Doomed be to lasting banishment. 
 
 Love chose the first, and to this day, 
 Though blind, on earth he wings his way, 
 More dauntless, reckless than before, 
 A tyrant now, and evermore. 
 
A L'AIDE, MON ROI 
 
 In ancient days Harold was King of France, and was known 
 as the champion of all the poor and oppressed in his kingdom. 
 To call upon the king was to invoke aid and speedy justice. "A 
 I'aide, mon Roi," was the popular cry which spread throughout 
 the whole kingdom, until it became the faith of the peasants, and 
 was never uttered in vain at the foot of the throne. 
 
 fe^^ ING HAROLD sat on his regal 
 
 ^^^M For Harold was king of the realm 
 
 alone ; 
 Dispensing right to rich and poor, 
 To noble knight and lowly boor. 
 
 Whene'er his ear heard the earnest plead, 
 Of serf oppressed by baron's greed; 
 The king responded to the call, 
 And measured justice out to all. 
 
 Thus, each sad tale and feeble moan 
 Was told at the foot of that royal throne ; 
 The power of might was powerless there. 
 For Harold could strike, as well as spare. 
 
64 A r Aide J 31 on Roi 
 
 And so, throughout the realm, his name 
 The watchword of the poor became. 
 " Harold, mon roi; a I'aide, a I'aide! " 
 Was the peasant's constant cry for aid. 
 
 Until at last it seemed to ring 
 Through all the land; " A I'aide, my king,' 
 By anguished hearts, raised everywhere, 
 Became th' oppressed one's daily prayer. 
 
 King Harold was ta'en to his long last rest, 
 In a tide- washed isle — at his own behest : 
 At dead of night his pall they bore. 
 Silent and sad to that lonely shore. 
 
 The grave was ready, the prayer was said. 
 The coffin was placed in its lowly bed ; 
 The mourners gazed on the solemn rite, 
 When a piercing cry rang thro' the night: 
 
 " Harold! A I'aide, a I'aide, my king," 
 And a half wild serf pushed thro' the ring, 
 Knelt by the open grave at once. 
 And silently waited the king's response. 
 
A VAide, Mon Roi 65 
 
 " Who calls on the king calls not in vain," 
 A voice thro' the welkin rang again. 
 " State forth thy wrong, what is thy need? 
 Though dead, King Harold will hear thy plead." 
 
 " My king, this land is mine," he said, 
 
 " My all; I ask but to be paid." 
 
 " And shalt be," spoke King Harold's son, 
 
 " For Harold, the King, does wrong to none." 
 
 And there in the night was the silver paid, 
 Ere Harold to rest in his grave Avas laid; 
 Then piled they the earth on his kingly head, 
 And left him to sleep in his lowly bed. 
 
THE EARTHLY LOVE 
 
 Part I 
 
 ^pS^lHE angels tuned their harps of gold, 
 jIliSI And struck the trembling strings; 
 'A.^M Through endless courts the anthem 
 rolled, 
 With clearest echoings. 
 
 A shining throng of spirits bright 
 Stood round the azure throne ; 
 
 Bathed in the dew of Heaven's light, 
 Their wings hke brilliants shone. 
 
 But one sweet seraph standing there, 
 
 Sang with the angel throng ; 
 Yet plaintive was the sacred air 
 
 Which mingled with her song. 
 
 And on her beauteous cheek there fell 
 
 A pearly crystal tear ; 
 The joys of Heaven might not dispel 
 
 A lingering memory dear. 
 
The Earthly Love 67 
 
 Lest one she loved might never come, 
 
 To join that heavenly band; 
 Lest one dear soul might not be won, 
 
 At last, to reach that land. 
 
 " A boon, O Lamb of God " — she pled, 
 " A loved one's soul to save; 
 
 To still the grief his heart doth shed 
 Upon my earthly grave." 
 
 Permission ! Hallelu j ahs rang 
 All down the golden plain ; 
 
 In chords of joy the angels sang 
 A touching farewell strain. 
 
 The spirit swept with sudden flight 
 Through the gates of Paradise ; 
 
 Swift as a star falls thro' the night. 
 Far back to earth she flies. 
 
 To bring the loved one calm and peace. 
 His sorrowing soul to soothe; 
 
 To bid his useless tears to cease. 
 His heart toward Heaven to move. 
 
68 The Earthly Love j 
 
 I 
 
 Part II ' 
 
 j 
 
 'Twas night, and round a banquet spread, j 
 
 Had met the rich and fair; | 
 
 Gay was the throng, and at its head \ 
 
 There sat a youthful pair. ] 
 
 For wine and mirth now ruled the hour, , 
 
 Twixt song and music tost ; 
 Forgotten was the mystic power. 
 
 The loved one, and the lost. 
 
 i 
 
 A fair young face was close to his, , 
 
 Was bent, his words to hear; I 
 
 Lest she, the love he spoke, might miss, 
 Poured in her listening ear. 
 
 Where was the love of yesterday? ; 
 
 The phghted troth, the vow? ; 
 
 Oh ! for the truth of manhood, say, i 
 
 Are they forgotten now? j 
 
 The imseen seraph, standing there, 
 
 Had seen with glistening eye ; 
 With saddened heart she watched the pair, 
 
 Then turned and soared on high 
 
The Earthly Love 69 
 
 Back to the realms of endless day: 
 
 Enough of earthly love! 
 How can the things of life repay 
 
 For the heavenly joys above? 
 
 The love of man, like fleeting light, 
 
 Is changeful as a dream; 
 While joys of Heaven flow ever bright, 
 
 In an unending stream. 
 
 Home, home once more to ruby skies. 
 
 Anew her flight she wings; 
 Again — once more in Paradise, 
 
 Her song of rapture rings. 
 
 She tunes her golden harp again, 
 
 No more with plaintive moan ; 
 But holier is the seraph's strain 
 
 Which floats towards the throne. 
 
DRIFTING 
 
 I AY was ending, shadows blending: on 
 the river dark and swift, 
 From the banks and boughs which 
 bounded, as I brushed my bark 
 adrift : 
 Nor oar nor helm it guiding, 'gainst gloom and 
 
 mist colliding; 
 CoiHng, climbing thro' a curtain, curled uncer- 
 tain, then dividing. 
 
 And the setting sunbeam slanting in the shallow 
 of the stream. 
 
 Glancing, glistened, gilded golden, grand with 
 glory grew its gleam: 
 
 As long I listened languid — up the hmpid lark's 
 lays roll. 
 
 And the sweetness of its singing, swept the shad- 
 ows from my soul. 
 
 The daylight deepened dimly: as the dawn of 
 dark drew drear. 
 
Day teas ending, shadoxcs blending: on the river dark 
 
 and swift. 
 
 From the hanks and boughs xchich bounded, as I brushed 
 
 my bark adrift. 
 
 — Driftixg, page 70. 
 
Drifting 71 
 
 Came a chant which chimed the carols thro' the 
 
 canopy; as clear 
 As, at early evening, echoes thro' the everglades 
 
 exclaim, 
 Pouring plenteous, passive peacefulness, j)ro- 
 
 f oundly 'pon the plain. 
 
 The mystic meadows mocked me with melodious 
 music mild: 
 
 Lisped laughing leaves and listened, luring lan- 
 terns leaped and smiled ; 
 
 In wanton whispers warbled — " We will wail 
 and weep and wait 
 
 Till the sirens shout their singing, and the storm 
 sea sobs his fate." 
 
 Nothing caring, all things daring, drifting 
 
 downwards in a dream; 
 So sliding swifter seaward, swept the swol'n and 
 
 sombre stream: 
 While the willows and the water and the winds 
 
 were wooing me — 
 Wishing, waiting for the waiHng, of the wild 
 
 waves of the sea. 
 
72 Drifting 
 
 For, forever floating forward, far away from 
 
 fame and foe, 
 Little left of all life's longings, less of love and 
 
 least of woe ; 
 [May the morning meet me mirthsome, and the 
 
 mad, mis-shapen mist 
 Take me trusting to the tempest, to be tossed 
 
 where'er it list. 
 
 What for me remains of sorrow, what for me is 
 
 left of joy? 
 Naught will count upon the morrow: life, like 
 
 some forgotten toy 
 Will be laid aside and broken; vanished like a 
 
 summer's dream: 
 Leaving not a single token in the everlasting 
 
 stream. 
 Come then! wind and storm and water, rise and 
 
 shout your loud alarms ! 
 Reckless of your strength to slaughter, come, 
 
 enfold me in your arms ! 
 
OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN 
 HEAVEN 
 
 lUR Father in Heaven! We hallow 
 Thy Name: 
 O'er Earth, as on High, Thou ever 
 dost reign ; 
 
 We pray that to us Thy peace may be given, 
 And Thy Will done by men, as by angels in 
 
 Heaven. 
 Oh! give us, this day, the bread that we need; 
 Forgive ev'ry trespass, in word and in deed; 
 Teach us to pardon each other, that we 
 May finally obtain forgiveness of Thee. 
 Oh! lead us away from the manifold snares 
 Which Temptation spreads for us, each day 
 
 unawares ; 
 Oh! keep us from evil, of all hues whatever. 
 And Thine be the Power and Glory forever. 
 
"ANYTHING TO BEAT GRANT"* 
 
 FOR THE PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN OF 1872 
 
 |NYTHING to beat Grant," anything 
 to drag 
 The hero down who bravely bore aloft 
 the Union flag, 
 While patriot souls were fainting, and exultant 
 
 was the foe, 
 While waves of war beat wildly, and drenched 
 
 the land in woe; 
 Who stayed the fiery tempest, with steadfast 
 
 hand and heart. 
 Who rolled the billows back, and tore the clouds 
 of gloom apart? 
 
 " Anything to beat Grant," anything to beat 
 The victor who would not exult upon the foe's 
 defeat, 
 
 * The watchword of the combined Democratic and Liberal par- 
 ties.— R. A. C. 
 
" Anything to Beat Grant " 75 
 
 But modestly who turned away from Rich- 
 mond's fallen pride, 
 
 Refused like conquerors of old her bloody streets 
 to stride; 
 
 But gave his promise to the foe, a pledge that 
 war should cease, 
 
 And uttered, "We were brothers once: oh, let 
 us now have peace." 
 
 " Anything to beat Grant," anything to blot 
 The record of his glowing name, on which there 
 
 rests no spot; 
 To cover up with infamy his glorious career. 
 Oh! 'tis a noble deed for those who hold their 
 
 country dear. 
 But vain the tonges of malice, for as the years 
 
 roll on. 
 His fame will clearer, brighter grow, like that 
 
 of Washington. 
 
 "Anything to beat Grant": say, brothers, will 
 you join 
 
 The crew who would with impious hands Colum- 
 bia's fame purloin? 
 
70 ''Anything to Beat Grant''' 
 
 The foe again is in the field; his battle cries 
 resound, 
 
 Come, comrades, to the rescue, for the field is 
 holy ground. 
 
 Raise high aloft our starry flag, and to the mil- 
 lions tell, 
 
 The ballot is our weapon now : oh ! wield it strong 
 and well. 
 
THE MAID WITH THE GOLDEN 
 HAIR 
 
 Part I 
 
 |ND oh! there is joy in the house to- 
 night : 
 From turret and door stream floods 
 of hght, 
 And hurrying feet are hastening there, 
 To swell the crowd of the young and the fair. 
 The old man came with his locks of snow, 
 His trembling limbs, and his furrowed brow; 
 With bounding step came the village maid, 
 In tasteful robes of white arrayed. 
 And happiness reigns in the hearts of all. 
 At the bridal feast in the stately hall ; 
 For dearly they loved the wedded pair, 
 And the bride was the maid with the golden hair. 
 
 Amidst the throng, hke a spirit bright. 
 
 With a blushing cheek, and an eye whose light 
 
 ofC. 
 
78 The Maid with the Golden Hair 
 
 Was sweetly dimmed by the pearly tear 
 Of joy and peace which lingered there, 
 She stood in her robes of spotless white: 
 Unseen at her side was an angel bright. 
 But the feast begins, and the music's note 
 The silence of the still night broke ; 
 And louder, and longer, swells the strain, 
 And the echoes take u^ the theme again; 
 The distant hills repeat the air. 
 In praise of the maid with the golden hair. 
 
 Vart II 
 
 And oh! there is grief in the house to-night. 
 And the curtains are drawn, and pale and white 
 Are the faces of those who w^nt and came 
 From that sorrowful bed of youthful pain. 
 With tearful eyes, and whispered tones, 
 And hearts which echoed the stifled moans 
 Of him who crushed by the bitter woe 
 Of a wilder grief than they could know. 
 But the spirit of light is standing near. 
 And whispers " Come " in the maiden's ear; 
 Two angels are leaving the house of despair, 
 And one is the maid with the golden hair. 
 
The Maid with the Golden Hair 79 
 
 Beneath the willows, far out in the night, 
 With the gale to soothe, and the moon to light ; 
 And the quiet stars to watch her tomb, 
 And over it flowers to fade and bloom. 
 And loved ones to utter her cherished name. 
 Through years to pass, and come again : 
 She sleeps in peace 'neath her marble pall, 
 Awaiting the blast of the trumpet call 
 Which shall open the grave, roll back the stone, 
 And Christ shall call His loved ones home: 
 And joy and peace shall evermore there. 
 Belong to the maid with the golden hair. 
 
I 
 
 WOOD-FIRE FANCIES 
 
 ITHOUT the wild storm whistles, 
 And on the frozen street 
 There falls a blinding, icy cloud 
 Of piercing hail and sleet. 
 
 The night is dark and wintry, 
 
 And downward in its path 
 The rising gale, with mighty strength, 
 
 Sweeps on in fitful wrath. 
 
 Beside the blazing fireside 
 
 My easy-chair I draw, 
 Safe from the battling elements. 
 
 And listen to their roar. 
 
 The wind howls wild with anguish, 
 Then moans as if in pain ; 
 
 Then roars again, as tho' it found 
 Its supplications vain. 
 
Wood-fire Fancies 81 
 
 The flames shoot up with sudden glare, 
 
 As dying embers fall; 
 The shadows flit in ghostly dance 
 
 Upon my chamber wall. 
 
 How long I sat I know not, 
 
 Gazing, staring, in the fire. 
 In a dreamy trance that seemed 
 
 As though 'twould never tire. 
 
 And the hours still kept striking. 
 
 Till I lost them in the night ; 
 And the fire still kept burning. 
 
 With a strangely lurid light. 
 
 Wreaths of smoke were upward cresting. 
 
 Floating Hke a misty fog; 
 And now and then a face seemed peering 
 
 From behind a blackened log. 
 
 And from out the glowing embers. 
 Spirit forms and phantoms swept; 
 
 Springing from their hot embraces. 
 As the forked flames upward leapt. 
 
82 Wood-fire Fancies 
 
 All at once the room seemed peopled 
 With a strange and motley crew 
 
 Of spectres unfamiHar, 
 And shapes I never knew. 
 
 They marched in serried compact, 
 
 They swam upon the air ; 
 They wandered round in circles, 
 
 And floated everywhere. 
 
 Then suddenly they vanished. 
 
 And bluer burnt the fire ; 
 While heavenly music filled the room, 
 
 As from an unseen lyre. 
 
 And all around me drifted 
 
 A misty cloud of light, 
 Entrancing all my senses 
 
 With a strange yet sweet delight. 
 
 Soon, in the gauze-like vapor, 
 A shadowy form there grew. 
 
 Clearer growing every instant, 
 Till before my raptured view 
 
Wood-fire Fancies 83 
 
 Stood a female form seraphic. 
 
 One of a heavenly race : 
 Serenity, and wondrous power. 
 
 Stamped on a marble face. 
 
 Her garments flowing round her. 
 Like waves of moonlight were ; 
 
 Exquisite was the perfume 
 Which bathed and filled the air. 
 
 A snowy arm extended, 
 A wand of crystal raised ; 
 
 And from its gleaming silver point 
 A priceless jewel blazed. 
 
 What art thou, wondrous spirit? 
 
 My soul sought to inquire ; 
 Canst thou be that devouring thing, 
 
 The element called Fire? 
 
 The spring of joy and beauty. 
 Of heat and light the source; 
 
 Parent alike of death and life, 
 What makes thy wondrous force? 
 
84 Wood- fire Fancies 
 
 Then — with a start I waken'd, 
 Which put my dreams to rout ; 
 
 And I found, as explanation, 
 That the fire had gone out. 
 
 The moon was brightly shining, 
 The stars shone still on high, 
 
 But in the East an orange tint 
 Was lighting u}^ the sky. 
 
 Yet I'll dream that dream again, 
 On some other winter's night; 
 
 And I'll claim the answer then, 
 From that spirit form of light. 
 
 I will pile the embers on. 
 To last quite thro' my naps ; 
 
 And the secrets which I learn, 
 I'll tell to you, — perhaps ! 
 
MONOTONY 
 
 ^^^^AY after day shines forth the golden 
 sun, 
 
 Night after night the twinkhng stars 
 appear ; 
 In endless course the seasons go and come, 
 And winter blights the fields in every year. 
 
 The river toward the sea runs swiftly on, 
 
 And mingles with its depths with ceaseless 
 tide; 
 The ocean rears its cresting waves, upon 
 Whose bosom sweeps the storm with giant 
 stride. 
 
 The earth goes plunging down a trackless space. 
 The planets in their tireless course have trod; 
 
 And all the stars join in the endless race, 
 Through the vast universal heaven of God. 
 
 And hoary Time looks on, and from his throne 
 Drops cycles from his hand, as on the sea 
 
 Fall drops of rain; and these are drawn 
 To the insatiate bosom of Eternity : 
 
8G Monotony 
 
 Far through the fading visions of the past, 
 Far down the dim and misty ages gone, 
 
 Grown gray with endless centuries, as vast 
 As the grand train of ages yet to come. 
 
 And what art thou, O vain and boastful man, 
 So self-reliant in thy puny might? 
 
 The life which beats in thy weak frame began 
 But yesterday ; 'twill take its flight to-night. 
 
 Thou lookest o'er the everlasting field; 
 
 'Tis mine, thou say'st! Oh, poor and vain 
 deceit ; 
 Thy father and thy father's sire did yield 
 
 The same delusion, proved it but a cheat. 
 
 How^ thine ? for, see, the vaunting words have left 
 Thy lips a moment, e'er thou turnest pale ; 
 
 Of life and field in one short hour bereft. 
 And rumbling wheels wind up the cypress vale. 
 
 And yet the patient field remains, to mock. 
 And laugh a thousand title deeds to scorn; 
 
 Smiles in the summer sun ; the winter's shock 
 Outbraves, until the resurrection's morn. 
 
r/!AY ?r 1905 
 
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