r 
 
Rhymes of a Toiler. 
 
 BY 
 
 THEODOEE WILLIAMS. 
 
 t ^ 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 
 
 189 0. 
 

 Copyright, 1890, by Theodore "Williams. 
 
AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 
 
 MY MOTHER, 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The authoi" of these verses (or doggerel, if you 
 will) would join the large army of writers, not as 
 an officer, but simply as a raw recruit, undrilled and 
 ignorant of the simple manual of arms. He confesses 
 his rawness, which is painfully evident, and pleads 
 the couplet, 
 
 " 'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print ; 
 A book's a book, although there's nothing in't," 
 
 as an excuse for printing, coupled with this : if there 
 is one line bringing courage to the despairer, or faith 
 to the doubter, or firmness to the waverer, — yea, if 
 there is one helpful or inspiring thought, however 
 harshly spoken, he is amply satisfied. Shut in a 
 factory for years, amidst the dust and noise of whirl- 
 ing wheels, — his trade a polisher, — these have proved 
 to be as "a light shining in a dark place," urging 
 him on to the cheerful and faithful doing of ever}^ 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 irksome task, and touching up all tools with the colors 
 of fancy, until he and his work seemed a part of the 
 vast ongoing of things, — a link or joint in the cor- 
 relation of forces, which make for a loftier and nobler 
 civilization. 
 
 " Who alive can say, 
 ' Thou art no poet — may'st not tell thy dreams' ? 
 Since every man whose soul is not a clod 
 Hath visions and would speak, if he had loved, 
 And been well nurtured in his mother tongue." — Keats. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 An Humble Home 11 
 
 Suggestions 26 
 
 The Ocean 27 
 
 Love 34 
 
 Love 37 
 
 The Cynic 40 
 
 The Enthusiast 44 
 
 Poesy 49 
 
 The Poet and his Moods ' 51 
 
 The Poet's Triumph 53 
 
 Whittier 55 
 
 Longfellow 56 
 
 Keats 57 
 
 Byron 58 
 
 Shelley 58 
 
 Bryant 59 
 
 Nature's Room 61 
 
 The Sun and Sea and Earth 62 
 
 The Approaching Day 63 
 
 A Peerless Morning 64 
 
 To-morrow 65 
 
 An April Eain 66 
 
 The Sun 67 
 
 The Sun and Sea 68 
 
 A Night Scene 70 
 
 Spring 70 
 
 Spring 74 
 
 7 
 
8 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 To Spring 76 
 
 March 78 
 
 March 79 
 
 Maj' 80 
 
 May-Time 81 
 
 June 82 
 
 A Day in June 83 
 
 The Double Mirror 84 
 
 Hints by the Way 85 
 
 A Down-trodden Flower 86 
 
 Our Garden 87 
 
 The Woodland's Charms 89 
 
 The Autumn Wind 91 
 
 After the Storm 92 
 
 July 94 
 
 Autumn 95 
 
 A Canary 96 
 
 The Heliotrope 98 
 
 A Sea-side View . . 99 
 
 After the Kain 100 
 
 The Kifled Garden 101 
 
 August 103 
 
 The Watermelon 104 
 
 A Sunset 105 
 
 Asbury Park 105 
 
 Life 106 
 
 A Vision 107 
 
 A Wish 108 
 
 A Broken Heart 108 
 
 A Thought 110 
 
 Ingratitude Ill 
 
 "Home, Home, Sweet Home I" 112 
 
 Kejoice To-day, Ye Men of Little Faith! 114 
 
 The Day is Gone 115 
 
 Sympathy 116 
 
 A Passing Thought 117 
 
 A Thanksgiving 117 
 
CONTENTS. 9 
 
 PAGE 
 
 John B. Gough : 119 
 
 Work 120 
 
 City Sights 121 
 
 A City Waif 122 
 
 The Triumph of Right 123 
 
 Queries and Answers 124 
 
 Friendship's Offer 125 
 
 TheFourthof July, 1876 126 
 
 A Poet's Death .■ . . 128 
 
 A Comparison 129 
 
 At Day's Decline 130 
 
 The Sea and Sky 130 
 
 A Sabhath's End 131 
 
 A Work-Day's Close 133 
 
 The Mad Lover 134 
 
 A Prayer 135 
 
 A Christian's Death 136 
 
 The Questioned Soul 138 
 
 A Soliloquy 138 
 
 A Winter Simile 141 
 
 Duty's Voice 142 
 
 The Christmas- Tide 143 
 
 The New Year 145 
 
 Christmas-Time 146 
 
 Yesterday 146 
 
RHYMES OF A TOILER. 
 
 AN HUMBLE HOME. 
 
 At twilight's hour, what phantoms scale 
 And overcrowd fond Fancj^'s pale! 
 What forms and visions, uncontrolled, 
 Invade and claim the mind's stronghold! 
 And as these wander to and fro 
 (Worthy of Hogarth's studio), 
 I see an ugly, narrow street 
 (Remote from fashion's promenade), — 
 A small frame dwelling, white and neat ; 
 The frontage bare of any shade 
 Or greening plant, save here a knot 
 Of thick-leaved gi*ass for terrace plot ; 
 The walks of brick, a treeless yard 
 Of twoscore feet for flowers and sward ; 
 And this enclosed with latticed fence, 
 To guard from childish violence. 
 
 11 
 
12 AN HUMBLE HOME. 
 
 And in its bed the old-time flowers 
 
 That court the sun and dare the showers, 
 
 And to our fancy never lose 
 
 The virgin freshness they diffuse : 
 
 Wall-flower, pansy, violet; 
 
 The coins with which spring pays her debt ; 
 
 Honeysuckle and climbing rose ; 
 
 Color and odor in repose ; 
 
 Sweet-william and bland helioti'ope. 
 
 The i^erfumed coronet of hope; 
 
 Portulaca, geranium's fire. 
 
 The suitable badge of rage and ire ; 
 
 And others that improve with age, 
 
 Tufted dahlia and scarlet sage ; 
 
 And those that tell the season's range 
 
 Of beauty, ring its gradual change 
 
 From meagre gift to overplus : 
 
 The fuchsia and convolvulus ! 
 
 But in the race to crown the top 
 
 Of sagging fence or crannied wall. 
 
 The cypress, thief-like, climbs and t^vines 
 
 Above the reach of other vines, 
 
 That it may boast a richer crop ; 
 
 Once over these, to crown it all, 
 
 Its stars blaze out and pale and fall! 
 
 And in the house, unpanelled doors, 
 Little-paned windows, shaky floors, 
 
AN HUMBLE HOME. 13 
 
 Both rough and seamy ; whitened walls 
 And bulging ceilings, clean of scrawls, 
 And gold-fringed dado ; wide-stepped stairs. 
 Creaky and steep, that lead to rooms 
 Smelling of nature's old perfumes, 
 Strong bergamot and lavender, 
 Which gambol with each airy stir, 
 And scent our garments unawares. 
 
 Each room reflects the form of use. 
 
 Cosy and clean ; with draperies 
 
 To hush the bang of windows loose, 
 
 And soften down the sun's bright beams ; 
 
 And carpet, too, of ruddy dj^es. 
 
 To hide the floor's unputtied seams. 
 
 And stepping lightly thro' the house, 
 
 You hear the scramble of the mouse. 
 
 Or buzz of fly ; but puffs of musk 
 
 Entice to a chamber, hushed and dusk. 
 
 Graced by a motley quilted bed, 
 
 With massive posts and carved head 
 
 And lace-edged jjillows, feathered deep 
 
 (The harmless opiate for sleep) ; 
 
 The rest ungraceful furniture, 
 
 But made and jointed to endure ; 
 
 Uneaseful chairs, that seem to me 
 
 But shaped for household pillory; 
 
14 AN HUMBLE HOME. 
 
 And bard, low stools, intended for 
 
 The vengeance-struck inquisitor. 
 
 And in a square, a bureau broad 
 
 And high, witb its sweet-smelling board 
 
 Of clotbes and linen ; keepsakes dear, 
 
 Embalmed by many a sob and tear; 
 
 Trinkets or books or flaxen curls, — 
 
 Memoirs of mother's missing pearls. 
 
 And o'er its glassless top are set 
 
 The treasure-box, sea-shells, and vase 
 
 (The bric-a-brac and cabinet), 
 
 And square daguerreotypes of friends, 
 
 Now looking thro' a silver haze. 
 
 And these upon a figured cloth. 
 
 With checkered mesh and tasselled ends; 
 
 And on the wall a sketch of Spring 
 
 Pleeing the cold clasp of the North, 
 
 And Man, the sower, following. 
 
 Or happy-featured June is seen 
 
 (Meriting fame or beauty's niche). 
 
 Peering over a garden screen, 
 
 Her apron full of jewels rich. 
 
 And some are lost or tumble down 
 
 To catch in the loose fold of her gown. 
 
 'Tis strange a room should know a weird 
 
 That memory's visits have endeai'ed ; 
 
 A chimney's nook become a stall 
 
AN HUMBLE HOME. 15 
 
 For woe and care's confessional ; 
 
 A covered stool and clumsy chair, 
 
 A homely shrine and altar, where 
 
 A publican could safely lift 
 
 His soul in prayer, and bring his gift, 
 
 A contrite heart, for sacrifice ; 
 
 And taste a sacramental juice 
 
 Would warm the heart of griefs recluse ! 
 
 And to this room, not over nice, 
 
 The mother brought her erring child 
 
 When mirth or mischief, running wild 
 
 And loud, required a wholesome check : 
 
 And with her arm about his neck. 
 
 And cheek to cheek, and gentle speech 
 
 Between her smiles, she strove to teach 
 
 His rash desires life's disciiDline ; 
 
 And, kneeling, begged for inward light 
 
 To see the way and walk therein ; 
 
 To guide his aimless thoughts aright, 
 
 And give his conscience healthy growth ; 
 
 And of God's grace that falls to both, 
 
 May it continue to life's close. 
 
 And like the first whiff of a rose. 
 
 These prayers and pleadings, deeply wrought 
 
 A safe admonisher o'er the thought 
 
 That in the future oft did come. 
 
16 AN HUMBLE HOME. 
 
 When other monitors were dumb, 
 To warn of danger, and to quell 
 A spirit oft intractable. 
 jSTor will I slight the large front room 
 That showed the sway of brush and broom 
 The cushioned settee in a nook, 
 The shelf above, with many a book ; 
 And o'er the mantel a doleful print 
 Of Weslej-'s death ; a card of thanks, 
 Tricolored, for a gift of lint 
 Sent to the maimed of Union's ranks. 
 Across two of heroic mould : 
 Chivalrous Scott and Taylor bold. 
 And opposite, a looking-glass 
 Mirrored a strangely-jumbled mass ; 
 The pewter lamps atrim and clean, 
 Each with its scalloped, fluted screen ; 
 The table's damasked cloth, so white, 
 The blue-lined service, large and bright 
 (The tonic for an appetite) ; 
 The chafed rag carpet, and a rug- 
 On which the dog la}^ warm and snug; 
 The red square of the cumbrous stove. 
 Braced by the chimney's smoky cove ; 
 And in its wave-like, winning heat 
 The noisy children found a seat, — 
 Busy and gay, and full of speech, 
 
AN HUMBLE HOME. 17 
 
 With joke and prank absorbing each; 
 
 Of simple playthings not a lack : 
 
 The pink-cheeked doll, and jumping-jack ; 
 
 The little sleigh and horse and cart, 
 
 So dear to every youngster's heart; 
 
 The hollow top's incessant hum 
 
 Of other frolics, yet to come ; 
 
 The pictured rhymes of Mother Groose, 
 
 And puzzling games, that made a truce 
 
 With every task; and for the hour 
 
 The place was surelj^ j)leasure's bower. 
 
 And near, a poplar cradle stood, 
 Holding a gift of motherhood : 
 A happy-featured, lively girl, 
 With fine, firm skin, and blond-like curl ; 
 The which a boy would ofttimes swing 
 To catch her smile of welcoming ; 
 And he, though rough, could not resist 
 The coaxing mouth and doubled fist; 
 Would press her to his yearning lips. 
 Or suck her rosy finger-tips ; 
 Or bob and dance her on his knee. 
 To see her gray ej-es shine with glee; 
 Or ribboned ring or ball was swung. 
 To loose her often babbling tongue ; 
 But the deep flushes of her cheek 
 2 
 
18 AN HUMBLE HOME. 
 
 Foretold the joy she fain would speak; 
 
 Or on his back, her whim to please, 
 
 Would waddle slow on hands and knees; 
 
 Or gently sway her in his arms, 
 
 And laud her soft, expanding charms ; 
 
 Yet sometimes prone, with steady look 
 
 Fixed on some verse or story-book 
 
 (The mind lured by the siren theme). 
 
 His hand would slip the pleasant task, 
 
 Till low cries from the gauzy mask 
 
 (Her sleep disturbed by some wild dream) 
 
 Aroused him, then with numbed hand 
 
 Would rock her back to slumber-land. 
 
 Later, without one warning note, 
 
 A cruel, eager bane assailed : 
 
 The household's darling drooped and paled, 
 
 And pinched her face, and clogged her throat ; 
 
 While pain held carnival within, 
 
 And fever blazed from eye and skin. 
 
 And burned the beautiful away 
 
 Till naught was left but blighted clay. 
 
 Nor was it strange they were aghast. 
 
 Because disease consumed, so fast. 
 
 That Death but snipped the pretty germ 
 
 To yield his victim to the worm ; 
 
 But Faith, at last, brought sure relief 
 
 To their incessant, poignant grief. 
 
AN HUMBLE HOME. 19 
 
 And whispered, while their hearts despond, 
 "Her stainless self is just beyond!" 
 
 But to the boy her absence blent 
 
 The thoughts of harm and banishment ; 
 
 Nor did the Pastor's words suppress 
 
 The drugless thrusts of loneliness ; 
 
 And often, when alone from choice, 
 
 Hugging his woe, perhaps, too much, 
 
 He hears again her prattling voice, 
 
 And feels her warm, quick, anxious touch 
 
 And tighter clasping of her hands, 
 
 That mean (he plainly understands) 
 
 Belease me from my pillowed cell. 
 
 And free my limbs, all cramped so long ; 
 
 And sing to me my favorite song ; 
 
 And play the tricks I love so well ; 
 
 And with my laughing eyes I'll pay 
 
 The toll you claim from day to day ; 
 
 And then she smiles, and winks, and nods 
 
 (More potent than a thousand rods), 
 
 As if the angels heard her vow 
 
 And stamped their sanction on her brow ; 
 
 But soon the pretty vision fades 
 
 Into a weeping group in crape. 
 
 Bearing a white and rigid shape 
 
 To the dark vault's abhorrent shades. 
 
20 AN HUMBLE HOME. 
 
 Ah ! this and more besiege his heart, 
 And strain and tear the wounds apart; 
 But Love, moved by his loss, will give. 
 And freely too, some palliative : 
 Yea, bring the Comforter divine 
 And Time's elusive anodjme, 
 
 Now, I enter the self-same room 
 
 And chase away all thoughts of gloom, 
 
 And like a guest accept a seat, 
 
 Eat of the children's mimic feast 
 
 That lacks not any sugared want ; 
 
 And near me rocks the easy chair 
 
 (The throne of state they often share). 
 
 Waiting its royal occupant. 
 
 The halting Mother (horn and drum's 
 
 Discord salutes her as she comes), 
 
 Wearing the chrism of womanhood, 
 
 A stainless name ; and all the good 
 
 Snatched from the hands of grief and pain, 
 
 Through all the pangs of threescore years. 
 
 Is proof and warrant for her reign ; 
 
 And longer worn the more endears! 
 
 Her rule is just, the only art 
 
 The sure appeals to mind and heart. 
 
 The household's queen with means to please, 
 Excelling courtly courtesies ; 
 
AN HUMBLE HOME. 21 
 
 And these her noisy liegemen true 
 
 (Whose acts of love have been too few), 
 
 Exalt and laud her sterling worth, 
 
 More rich than any prize of earth, 
 
 No queenly hand could kindlier bless, 
 
 Nor eye beam sweeter graciousness ; 
 
 And every woe, and want, distress, 
 
 Bestirred her genuine sympathy; 
 
 And quivering lip and suffused eye 
 
 But glassed a brimming tenderness ; 
 
 The cheerful glance and placid brow 
 
 But proved the soul had kept its vow 
 
 Of swerveless fealty to God : 
 
 Despite the chastening scourge and rod ; 
 
 The shining face and silvered hair 
 
 Were not belaborings of despair. 
 
 But strivings of long care and toil, — 
 
 These shown in roughened hands and palms. 
 
 While life was spending wine and oil 
 
 For others' sake ; yet all elate 
 
 And ever hopeful, singing psalms. 
 
 Believing cares would soon abate ; 
 
 And from her tongue such discourse flowed. 
 
 It wrought a charm in this abode ; 
 
 Though terse and homely, 'twas not less 
 
 Fresh with its word of helpfulness. 
 
 And to the timid, tired, or faint 
 
22 AN HUMBLE HOME. 
 
 (Poor hungry souls that seldom heard 
 From one as burdened one kind word) 
 It seemed the warm speech of a saint ; 
 And to her reason love sufficed 
 To teach all hearts the laws of Christ! 
 
 To make these insipid verses smack 
 Of home-made cates, I'll hasten back 
 Over the road of vanquished years, 
 Whose mile-posts loom with stains of tears, 
 To greet the Mother hourly tasked, 
 For she bestowed her inward strength, 
 And only strength she craved and asked 
 (And who but God can tell its length?) 
 To keep her children from the mire 
 Of ignorance, and want, and vice 
 (And this her greatest benefice. 
 Her teacher life-experience) ; 
 To feed the soul's increasing fire 
 On the bright hearth of innocence 
 With sagest wisdom, — these her aims, 
 And Time confirms her holy claims. 
 And Love, in one o'erwhelming gush 
 Of tingling feeling, kneels and speaks 
 (Prompted by deeds she would not hush) : 
 " I know what anguish paled her cheeks. 
 What nameless tortures racked her fiesb, 
 
AN HUMBLE HOME. 23 
 
 What dreadful horrors plagued her soul ; 
 Nor do I speak to make them fresh, 
 Or scare her feet from yonder goal ; 
 But just to show that she could serve, 
 And from her duty never swerve ; 
 What burdens bear that others spurned, 
 And break the loaf herself had earned, 
 In sweat and tears and worrying; 
 Yet freely gave of everythipg, 
 Without one envious, selfish thought, 
 Save of the pleasure she had wrought. 
 
 "Ah, I recall when ills befell 
 
 And snapt the ties she loved so well 
 
 (As one by one her darlings passed 
 
 To Heaven, where she shall come at last). 
 
 And when the stealthy fever flame 
 
 Burned and wasted her sturdj^ frame; 
 
 And when the work would rack-like twist 
 
 The aching head and fagged-out wrist; 
 
 And if the verj'- air grew black. 
 
 Yet was her purpose not to slack 
 
 Or stop, but, slipping from her chair, 
 
 She sought the needed strength in prayer; 
 
 Though midnight passed, her head was bent 
 
 Till God bestowed the nourishment. 
 
24 AN HUMBLE HOME. 
 
 Then plying fingers, twirling wheel, 
 Disclosed the firmness of her zeal. 
 
 "And running through her busy days 
 
 (Like strings of pearl), her helpful ways 
 
 And graceful tact of doing good 
 
 Were known about the neighborhood 
 
 (These are not lights that bushels hide, 
 
 But beacons shining far and wide). 
 
 If some one, sudden stricken ill, 
 
 With care and want to add their curse, 
 
 She ran to aid with all her skill 
 
 (And just as prompt to use her purse), 
 
 And brought some relishable dish 
 
 As an earnest of her hearty wish 
 
 To soothe and comfort the ailing one; 
 
 Nor deemed her kindness fitly done 
 
 (If the grave doctor or the nurse 
 
 But vaguely hinted she was worse) 
 
 Without a verse, in tone and look 
 
 Beseechful, from our Father's Book ; 
 
 And prayer to Him that always heeds 
 
 The sufferer's plaints, and knows her needs; 
 
 And, better, holds the failless cure, 
 
 Whose touch and palliative are sure, — 
 
 The Healer, whose exquisite art 
 
 Can lull the deepest twinge and smart. 
 
AN HUMBLE HOME. 25 
 
 And, best of all, controls the chai'ni 
 That robs lean Death of power to harm. 
 And while she prayed, a holy calm, 
 Which to the sick one was a balm, 
 Possessed the humble, narrow room. 
 Like odors from an unseen bloom ; 
 N"or was it in the face alone. 
 Or clasp, that sympathy was shown 
 Her pleadful accents were so true, 
 That sweetest seemed her warm adieu!" 
 
 But now a happier time is come, 
 And other hands support the home ; 
 And patient life has lived, to see 
 The sure success of industry ; 
 The hardships and economies 
 Have brought content and slippered ease ; 
 And comfort too, a liberal share 
 Of leisure-tempting couch and chair: 
 And Plenty, chaste and temperate, 
 Prepares and spreads a generous course 
 (With family porcelain, glass and plate 
 Without the gourmand's wine and sauce) 
 Of wholesome viands, cates and fruits; 
 And conversation flows, that suits 
 The pleasant hour, with but a bowl 
 Of Mocha's juice to warm its soul : 
 
26 SUGGESTIONS. 
 
 Eeplete with banter, jest, and wit ; 
 And after this they idly sit, 
 While Music, with a dulcet air, 
 Immures all vexing thought and care, 
 Cooing of dreamless sleep and rest, 
 And pipes good-night to every guest. 
 
 SUGGESTIONS. 
 
 From my suburb eastern windows Nature's pastimes 
 
 I behold, 
 Through the elephantine vapors Morning rolls its disk 
 
 of gold. 
 
 Or the clouds run chariot races with the goal far 
 
 out of sight, 
 Or the serried foliage wrestles with the wind and 
 
 curbs its flight. 
 
 Or the storm, a gladiator, whose arena is aglow 
 With his crinkled, flaming javelins, lays the oak or 
 poplar low. 
 
THE OCEAN. 27 
 
 Or the Night calls jewelled Taurus, as a sacrifice to 
 
 Jove, 
 While the moon elbows the darkness thro' the field 
 
 and thro' the grove. 
 
 THE OCEAK 
 
 Before me whirled the onset of the waves 
 Aflush with sunshine's warm farewell ; I said, 
 " Vast, mighty, and forever restless one, 
 Thou Samson of the waters in thy strength. 
 And Samson, too, in thy blind, furious wrath, 
 What hidden spirit called or brought thee forth ? 
 Who cheered thee thro' thy infancy and youth, 
 And wed thee to the earth, thy constant bride ? 
 Who nursed, and fed, and led thee thro' the years. 
 And now sustains and trains thy sumless powers ? 
 Or didst thou spring a briny Pallas, armed 
 With force and grandeur, fickle as the May, 
 Forth from black chaos? Nay: methinks I hear 
 A voice above the hoarse sounds of thy voice. 
 That penetrates like light, and says: the God, 
 The great, good God enwombed thee, shaped thy form. 
 Thy ceaseless-pulsing breast, I gaze upon ; 
 
28 THE OCEAN. 
 
 Gave thee the boon of strength and pithy youth, 
 And mixed thy very life-blood with the Earth's 
 By His invisible hand. What dost bring, 
 Rude Ocean, to thy rich and radiant queen, 
 Save of the wreck and blanched shell and stone. 
 Or spumy weed? And tho' she seems afraid, 
 And shrinks, and trembles, she doth bare her 
 
 charms : — 
 The fleecy turbaned head, and hair anointed 
 With ointment drawn from day and evening's breath ; 
 The bosom screened by rose-embossed vests ; 
 And over plump shoulders, a scarf of flowers ; 
 And thro' the tulle-like di-aperies, the shape 
 Of rounded thigh and limb, as fair as Hebe's, 
 Show finely to her clover-slippered feet ; 
 And more, — brings thee her choice delectables." 
 Then Ocean's century-mellowed bass was heard : 
 " O rash defamer ! Earth has been my first 
 And only love, my true patrician spouse. 
 Since God, our I'ighteous Guide, and Priest, and King 
 (And here his voice takes on a reverent tone), 
 Created us and bore us in His arms. 
 Twin prodigies, till grown full strong, 
 And capable of finishing His scheme ; 
 Then were the banns proclaimed and we were wed! 
 But seons past, each soul had longed for each : 
 Ever since Sol, our tireless comforter, 
 
THE OCEAN. 29 
 
 With Time as watcher, sent thro' leagues of blue 
 The splendor of his quenchless oriflamme ; 
 Since Night, her purple gown all diamonded, 
 Evoked a blessing on our nuptial feast. 
 
 " I own my clasp is hard and fierce to her ; 
 
 My heavy respirations flecked with foam ; 
 
 My arm-encirclings harsh and passionate ; 
 
 My life's devotion sealed with cold, white lips ; — 
 
 And yet, my heart enthrobs for only her; 
 
 Nor do I seek her presence dowerless : , 
 
 My gifts are strange, and rich, and beautiful 
 
 As her's ; the coral, pearl, and tell-tale shell 
 
 Are simply largesses, but passing clues 
 
 Of what in hugest quantities I hold 
 
 For her and her vain, pampered, shiftless child. 
 
 The unwise Esau Man." But I, emboldened 
 
 By his eloquence, and promise of thrift, 
 
 His breathing's moisture cool upon my cheek, 
 
 Answered, " Ocean, exert thyself once more ! 
 
 Combine thy powers to show the jealous Earth 
 
 The finest, sweetest earnests of thy love ; 
 
 And then her summer life will be complete. 
 
 "With dash of wave, and lightest toss of spray, 
 
 Baptize her heated brow, and cheeks, and lips. 
 
 And cool her fevered limbs and feet. And yet 
 
 Another grander favor I would ask : 
 
30 THE OCEAN. 
 
 Sea! bestir thyself to carry out, 
 
 Beyond our acute ear and watchful ken, 
 
 Our plaint of pain and moan of misery ; 
 
 Our dark despairs and darker treacheries ; 
 
 Our blind belief and strange our unbelief; 
 
 Our shrieks of rage and pessimistic cries ; 
 
 Our shrugs, and frowns of hate, revengeful scowls ; 
 
 Our hard, perturbing acts and ignorance ; 
 
 The sophistry that brands man animal, 
 
 With wheel-like motions, nerves, and gross desires; 
 
 Our thoughtless, nameless crimes and egotism ; 
 
 Our eager, sateless hungering for gold ; 
 
 Our clans and creeds and hot disputes ; — 
 
 And all that veils the soul from love and truth. 
 
 That stunts the moral growth, and dwarfs the will. 
 
 That thwarts the noble scheme and just endeavor; — 
 
 Drown these so deeply, that the wings of th' wind 
 
 Bear no tidings of their dirgeless burial ! 
 
 "Impetuous Sea! confirm my dearest wish. 
 And carry in a hope oracular, 
 More potent for the hour and its large needs 
 Than Dodona's oaks evolved. Yes, a hoj^e. 
 Girt by a halo fresh from God's broad brow. 
 To draw and raise the hurt, but earnest soul, 
 Towards a great and cui'ative sympathy ; 
 To warm its faintest yearnings for the good 
 
THE OCEAN. 31 
 
 Into a rare, white flame ; its wavering steps 
 Make firm and steady, like a runner's strides 
 That hold more briskness, as they near the goal ; 
 A hope assuring all good expectations. 
 Ay, sealing the spiritual nature dominant. 
 
 "And hurry, strongest bass of all the choir 
 In God's cathedral, with a fuller love 
 Than e'er has soothed the peevish, ailing man, 
 Sheathed in a faith as stout and vigoi-ous 
 As grand Elijah grasped ; a godlike love 
 That will consume our glooms and phantasies. 
 Like Sol's sharp rapier, the priests of Baal 
 Destroyed, for Error's warning epitaph ! 
 
 " A love armored with the pure emanations 
 
 Of the holy laws, first issued in Heaven ; 
 
 A love that permeates our goodliest self, 
 
 That tones our honest sympathy 
 
 To the heart-throe of scourged humanity; 
 
 So tender, that it feels a ruthful beat 
 
 To see the swift convulsions of a fly. 
 
 Lured to its quick fate by a kitchen lamp ! 
 
 A love that wears the smile of Deity, 
 
 Caught from an intercourse of prayerful years : 
 
 This gracious smile linked to a Christian speech, 
 
 Kedolent with truth and helpfulness. 
 
32 THE OCEAN. 
 
 And for Love's congenial helpmeet, joy 
 
 Like that which rapt the Fisherman 
 
 On the dazzling Mount of Transfiguration. 
 
 "O Sea! thy hugest waves, for stepping-stones, 
 Heap high, for lo, they come ! The wind their 
 
 steeds, 
 The splendid moonbeams their pearled chariot, 
 Surpassing Neptune's; now they disembark, 
 These divine sprites, and walk the crumbling sands 
 To blow the healthy airs of Paradise 
 O'er our sick world, and kill its venomed airs. 
 
 "And now expectant, testy man give thanks, 
 
 Tho' the great light has smitten purblind eyes, 
 
 Like sight and courage of defiant Saul 
 
 Was struck, yet bound his spirit to the Christ; 
 
 So thou, affirm to own their leadership. 
 
 Where'er ihory lead ; up the sharp steep 
 
 Or down the awful, pitch-black gorge of life ; 
 
 But strip thyself of every useless tool, 
 
 And husband up thy brawn to bear a load 
 
 Would daunt an Atlas or a Hercules ! 
 
 " Yes, onward now their mandate reads, and thou, 
 Inspired anew, will urge the march and fight. 
 And call thy brethren on to fill the gaps. 
 
THE OCEAN. 33 
 
 Till Victory wave her pennon from the breach. 
 Though limping, bleeding, panting, ragged, grimed, 
 Though thirst knaws at the life, and hunger too, 
 These lovely, holy sisters rush to greet you, 
 And kiss your blistered lips, and pat your palms, 
 And pour their consolations, softly saying, 
 ' Another battle won, we now advance 
 Towards the city of Gold!' And looking down, 
 Lo, on his tattered coat a medal shines. 
 Like king's insignia, 'tis the Holy Grail! 
 
 "And over them Night tilts her burnished cup, 
 
 Kept brimful by Time's happy servitors. 
 
 To bind the sacred covenant anew; 
 
 And jewelled vestals, as they pass in grand 
 
 Procession up the Milky Way, flash down 
 
 On them and me an endless benediction ! 
 
 And from stilled Heaven, dyed a sapphire blue — 
 
 (The audience chamber of the Infinite) — 
 
 Slips thro' the magic word of all the ages, ' Peace !' " 
 
34 LOVE. 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 Diffusive essence of creative God, 
 
 Centurion of space and life and time, 
 Alone, thou art the king whose crown and rod 
 Are sullied not with crime. 
 
 "Whose throne and empire dwarf the works of art, 
 Fixed far beyond the clash of laws and creeds. 
 Where the impulses of thy mighty heart 
 Are wrought to perfect deeds. 
 
 Ere chaos was, or beam, or tone, or wave, 
 
 Ere seraph sang of thee, or kissed thy rod. 
 Thou livest; and will survive the shroud and grave, — 
 The roj^al one with God ! 
 
 Thou speak'st, and noble woman, wreathed in kind- 
 ness. 
 And habited in tenderest sympathies. 
 Commands the heart, and lights our stumbling blind- 
 ness 
 
 With look of pleading eyes. 
 
LO VE. 35 
 
 And, grander 3^et, ascends her chosen path 
 
 With an unfaltering faith and deathless trust, 
 And, like Medea, brings good will from wrath, 
 And soul from worthless dust. 
 
 Anon thou speak'st, the pure-intentioned youth. 
 
 Large-brained, strong-sinewed, battles for the i"ight, 
 As if he were the pioneer of Truth, 
 Mailed with eternal might, 
 
 Or manhood, graced with superhuman strength 
 
 Of thought and action, silences the strife ; 
 Upbuilds and delves and sows until, at length, 
 Appears a richer life. 
 
 And even on silvered age's wrinkled lips 
 
 A smile is mingled with a twitch of pain ; 
 As if a life just gloomed by death's eclipse 
 Would bless thy name again. 
 
 And passing through the portals of the home, 
 Thy smile and voice of cheer define it real ; 
 And man, the fickle nomad, now has come 
 
 To stay, wedded for woe or weal ! 
 
 Whether in battle heat or prison cell. 
 
 Or hall or hut, mandate, rebuke, or plea. 
 Thy wondrous eloquence doth sweep and swell 
 Into an ecstasy ! 
 
36 LOVE. 
 
 "When hate, and spite, and greed, and woe, and grief 
 
 Seem moment rulers of the heart and brain, 
 Thou dost arise, our forlorn hope and chief. 
 And reassert thy reign. 
 
 And nature, too, applauds thy hidden sway 
 From far-off Sirius to the nameless germ; 
 And beast, and bird, and reptile, in their day. 
 Declare th}^ ceaseless term. 
 
 Thou charm and talisman and lord of powers, 
 Thou central figure of life's brightest scenes. 
 Hast taught the past thro' all its murky hours ; 
 The present on thee leans. 
 
 Thou art the sole patrician of the race. 
 
 The bond of brotherhood, and hope, and ruth. 
 The head and heart of every gift and grace, 
 Robed in perennial youth. 
 
 The alpha and omega of the whole, 
 
 Philosophy's best wisdom. Freedom's fire; 
 My spirit's inspiration, keep my soul 
 And soothe when I expire ! 
 
 Come, dearest, and witness the going sun. 
 
 What length and breadth of splendor in its wake! 
 
 As if a new career were to be run, 
 
 Or God renewed its radiance for our sake. 
 
LOVE. 37 
 
 That we might know that He alone is King, 
 And this only a gem of His signet ring ! 
 
 One houi* ago the summer gust was driven 
 Across the gold of sun and blue of sky ; 
 Now not a remnant of a cloud sweeps by 
 To hide the beauty of the stai's in Heaven, 
 And when our high desires are overcast, 
 God's stars of hope shall surely shine at last ! 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 Love, the peerless, came along, 
 Stirred our spirits by her song, 
 And reversed man's dire decrees. 
 Grave us health for flushed disease ; 
 Eest in labor, joy in trial, 
 Happiness in self-denial; 
 Blent her soul in all our deeds, 
 And sustained us in our needs. 
 
 "We had dreamed that she should come 
 Like a victor to his home, 
 Bearing trophies from afar, 
 Knighted with Fame's glowing star; 
 
38 LOVE. 
 
 Or a king in royal state, 
 
 Medalled wise and brave and great. 
 
 Lo ! she came just like a friend, 
 Pure and changeless to the end, 
 Eipe and sound to her heart's core. 
 Hark ! a knock upon the door. 
 Come away, thou usher. Pride, 
 She is known to those inside — 
 We would welcome one so dear! 
 Welcome, Love, and then the meeting : 
 Broken words of sincere greeting 
 Between kisses, hearts a-beating : 
 "We are glad to see thee here. 
 Thou art now our genial guest, 
 And whatever be thy quest. 
 We will bless thee, grant thee rest. 
 
 "Doff thy garb of dust and travel 
 And forego the whirl and strife ; 
 With thine aid we may unravel 
 The dark tangle we call life; 
 Come, and wander thro' the house, 
 Where no evil dare carouse ; 
 On through each frequented room. 
 We have toiled to set in order; 
 Hoping thou wouldst be its warder, 
 And the sunshine for its gloom. 
 
LOVE. 39 
 
 " Melancholy has gone out. 
 Lest thy smiles should lighten it; 
 Envy, too, with frown and pout. 
 Lest thy speech should frighten it. 
 Heated Anger fled in shame 
 At the mention of thy name. 
 Selfishness, the sire of each. 
 Hearing thou hadst come to teach. 
 Shod his feet and veiled his face, 
 Eushed in terror from the place. 
 
 "Promise thou wilt stay awhile: 
 Yes, is answered in thy smile. 
 We will bring our choicest dishes, 
 Savored with our finest wishes; 
 Fruits and flowers of every season. 
 Juiced with wit and pulped with reason ; 
 And each moment as it flies 
 Will seem sent from Paradise! 
 
 " What are. flowers, in vases rare, 
 If thy presence be not there? 
 Mirrors but a silver glare, 
 Brilliant gems a heavy care ; 
 Eich attire and equipage, 
 Yulgar show and fortune's gauge; 
 Art and music, sport and dance. 
 Cloy in turn, like dull romance; 
 
40 THE CYNIC. 
 
 Dainty viands, beggar's food ; — 
 Every gift and grace and good, 
 Empty vaunt and mockery, 
 If unblest, unshared by thee ! 
 
 "Abide with us until the mind 
 Shall detest the lusts that blind ; 
 Till our being's roughest string 
 Catch thy spirit's vibrating; 
 Till eacb instinct and emotion 
 Grow each moment more divine ; 
 And our fervor and devotion 
 Know the euphony of thine : 
 Then the thought shall be the deed 
 Fruited from thy planted seed." 
 
 THE CYNIC. 
 
 The world is a circle of wonders. 
 
 Yet its glor}^ is ebbing away; 
 Its muscles of granite contorted, 
 
 And chapped and punctured its skin of clay. 
 
THE CYNia 41 
 
 The sun and the moon and the countless sparks 
 
 Afloat in the pillarless blue, 
 Are voyagers o'er its fathomless deeps : 
 
 Not a home or a port in view. 
 
 Discontented, arrogant, selfish man, 
 
 Benumbed by a torrent of ills, 
 By the haughty caste of riches and blood, 
 
 By the grief that cankers and kills; 
 
 Ay, and dwarfed to the horrible practices 
 
 And mean desires of the beast ; 
 Or comparing his projects with nature's 
 
 And his ever seeming the least ! 
 
 Of the past the defiler, the waif 
 
 Of the present and future decades, 
 Still the sage, or the fool, or the slave. 
 
 Or the villain, whose end is the shades ! 
 
 AVho deplores if the masses perish. 
 
 So it help to the germing of one 
 Who shall garner for Science the secrets 
 
 Of stratum and vapor and sun ? 
 
 Or if despot, radical, anarchist 
 
 TJsurj) Dominion's thrones and chairs. 
 
 Or the hard monopolist devise his schemes, 
 And bait his murderous snares ? 
 
42 THE CYNIC. 
 
 So Cleon clamor for reform, and Comraodus, 
 
 Wanton with crime and vice, 
 And Fortunatus quadruple his gains 
 
 And dwell in a zephyr of spice ! 
 
 Or if barbarous War and bis satellites 
 
 Consume and depopulate? 
 So our soulless Napoleon glut 
 
 His ambition and be miscalled the Great 
 
 Or if Famine, Disease, and Ignorance 
 Seize the pith of a thousand lives? 
 
 So Enterprise swell its treasuries, 
 
 And the royal line of Trade survives ! 
 
 Or the mother loses her darling boy, 
 Or the father his sweetest flower? 
 
 So Luxury build her j)alaces, 
 
 And Eevelry dance her giddy hour. 
 
 Who cares if woman denude her charms 
 In the temples of Thespian art. 
 
 Or if Fashion dethrone Truth, Affection, 
 And Trust from the sensitive heart? 
 
 So silk-robed Vanity, laced and gemmed, 
 Catch the stare of the envious throng 
 
 Or pamjjered Indolence urge the hour 
 By scented frolic and obscene song ! 
 
THE CYNIC. 43 
 
 Who questions, I ask, if hoodwinked Innocence 
 
 Mimic lascivious attitudes? 
 So Parrhasius image, in voluptuous 
 
 Colors, a Helle's sensuous moods ! 
 
 Or the heedless Fictionist invellum 
 
 His tale with a contagious curse, 
 Or the aimless Poet an Upas bloom 
 
 Sustains, in his garden of verse ? 
 
 So Zola win false art's applause. 
 
 And Villon wear a perishable wreath ; 
 
 While Juvenal, the Censor's avenging 
 Sword, lies corroding in its sheath ! 
 
 Or the Preacher, the Merchant, Eeformer 
 Cringe and haggle for gift and price. 
 
 And insolent rogues solicit a God 
 For a share of a Paradise ! 
 
 And the world's acclamations so hollow. 
 
 Like a vane that veers in a trice, 
 While our destinies turn to delight 
 
 Or despair b}^ a toss of the dice ! 
 
 So, whimsical man, why falter or fret, 
 
 If hungry Death be slow or fast? 
 Thy exquisite pleasures pall and rot, 
 
 Thy expectations are overcast ! 
 
44 THE ENTHUSIAST. 
 
 Lo ! he comes from his covert, with terrible 
 
 Clutch, to bear into the Void, 
 Our character, fame, and stainless possessions, — 
 
 Whatever was e'er enjoyed! 
 
 THE ENTHUSIAST. 
 
 I ACKNOWLEDGE the world is a mystical 
 
 Bulk, though a God was its Sire : 
 Yet the student has not 'prisioned 
 
 A throb of its chaotic heart of fire. 
 
 And this opulent, glorious earth of ours 
 
 Eetains the beauty and grace 
 That was flashed on its countenance. 
 
 When God called it forth from the womb of space. 
 
 Yet the lover of Nature has noticed the habits 
 
 And given a name 
 To a few of its lovely creatures. 
 
 Though the humblest is worthy of fame. 
 
 And in Nature's huge demesne 
 
 There dwells an invisible spirit of good, — 
 A spirit of cheer and sympathy 
 
 That scents and spices our mental food. 
 
THE ENTHUSIAST. 45 
 
 And its green dappling coat 
 
 And bestudded hood are goodlier, grander things 
 Than when the Hun, and Goth, and Norseman 
 
 Were its brainless and barbarous kings. 
 
 And its forests and fruits, and birds and flowers, 
 Grow welcomer with the passing years, 
 
 As Freedom is dearer for dangers o'ereome, 
 And Love for its sighs and tears. 
 
 And the sense of the rose and the lily 
 
 That tenderly, constantly jDleads 
 For the life of their delicate offspring, 
 
 For the life of the commonest weeds ; 
 
 And the wondrous instinct of pity 
 
 In the bird, the insect, and the brute, 
 
 E'en the old garden-tree's heart 
 
 Bleeding for the loss of its eai'liest fruit. 
 
 We feel, when our deepest emotions 
 
 Are strung to a spiritual touch and tone. 
 
 The forest's love for the famished stream. 
 The moss's ruth for the riven stone. 
 
 And Man, the primitive, cosmic growth, 
 
 Supremest act of infinite love, 
 Superior to things elemental, an equal 
 
 To the noblest above ! 
 
46 THE ENTHUSIAST. 
 
 Or Man cursed by the mental sluggishness 
 And ferocious lusts of the beast, 
 
 Or essaying his powers with angels, 
 And the angels seeming the least! 
 
 Or Man goaded on like a burdened horse, 
 
 Or a wreck on a barren shore ; 
 Or the modeller of the past and the present. 
 
 And part of the evermore ! 
 
 And when his fickle, finite heart 
 
 Despairs in its helplessness and its needs, 
 
 Crying blindly, dumbly, incessantly, 
 Is there one about us that heeds? 
 
 Though the response seem but an echo, 
 'Tis the voice of a heavenly Friend 
 
 Heard across the blackest abysm, — 
 " I am with thee even unto the end." 
 
 ISTo Sinai lightnings confirm it. 
 
 No Delphic or Sibylline message is this; 
 Yet helpless Man with his grievance 
 
 Is consoled, as if by a mother's kiss! 
 
 And the light of a transfiguration 
 
 Cleaves the bars of his dungeoned soul, 
 
 Eevealing Man's loftiest destiny 
 And Christ leading on to the goal ! 
 
THE ENTHUSIAST. 47 
 
 And in this marvellous splendor 
 
 The beatitudes glow with a eleai'er light ; 
 
 Irradiate more than the clustered gems 
 In the mystical ring of Night! 
 
 And showing the compassionate justice 
 
 And deathless patience of God, 
 Till this soul, in a rapture of jileasure, 
 
 Forgets it is held in a clod. 
 
 And he feels an absolute wisdom, 
 
 And a keener perception of things, 
 And in his hands the strongest of staffs 
 
 And a balm for the sharpest of stings. 
 
 Now words like jewels are flung from his lips. 
 
 And glints of hope from his eyes, 
 A heart of goodness susceptible 
 
 To the meekest of sorrowful cries. 
 
 Yes, to endure if Ignorance screw the rack, 
 
 Or light the martyr fires, 
 And ready to battle with tigers of hate, 
 
 Or suffer the crown of briers. 
 
 And the demons of want and pestilence, 
 
 The furies of error and strife. 
 Are quenched in this halo that proffers 
 
 To him the boon of a deathless life. 
 
48 THE ENTHUSIAST. 
 
 Now the future expands before him, 
 Like a summer sunburst in the east, 
 
 With the quintillions in communion, 
 Christ the ruler of the soulful feast! 
 
 Now the dynasties, republics, all are gone, — 
 
 Eace and tribe, and class and clan 
 Are merged into the true Cosmopolite, 
 
 The perfect formed and minded Man ! 
 
 Now love and wisdom, and justice and truth. 
 
 Philosophy, science, and art. 
 Only labor to aid the tireless mind 
 
 And to nurture the lustless heart. 
 
 He feels, when this fugitive world and its growths 
 
 Are riven from thought and space, 
 The good of the human exalted forever 
 
 Shall wear Jehovah's grace. 
 
 Not onl)'- his sovereign blessing be given. 
 
 But on through cycles of bliss. 
 With vaster powers at his command: 
 
 The seal of approval, God's kingly kiss ! 
 
POESY. 49 
 
 POESY. 
 
 Thou true revealer of the beautiful ! 
 Expression's lips are mute when thou art near; 
 And if my lauding voice be cold and dull, 
 My mind and heart's recesses hold thee dear. 
 And as I look upon thee, twin with love, — 
 Thy guileless person robed in argent sheen, 
 Thy rose-gemmed bosom and enlaurelled brow, 
 Thy music-breathing lips and queenly mien, 
 My being is filled with earthless ecstasy ; 
 'Tis then my soul, exalted, feels that thou 
 Wast missioned, like Noah's olive-bearing dove. 
 To bring down peace and pleasure from above. 
 That they might dwell forever with the free. 
 
 Apollo's solace ! from thy natal day 
 Thou wast the priestess of a spirit shrine 
 Implored by all ; didst chieftain the array 
 Of sister muses with thy voice divine, 
 Whilst awe-hushed nations knelt in homage round. 
 And youthful earth, regai-bed in brilliant hues, 
 Was silent till thy singing stirred her tongue. 
 Then all was animate : the twilight dews 
 
 4 
 
50 POESY. 
 
 Exhaled of tint and perfume for the flowers ; 
 The forests, earth's heart-constant harpists, sung 
 Of shade and coolness to the vernal ground ; 
 And nodding blossoms chorused, " We are crowned 
 To herald the approach of sunnier hours." 
 
 And Luna, guarded by her stellar ranks, 
 Didst whisper to the fountains and the streams, 
 " I'll light the jagged rocks and pebbled banks 
 That check your journeys by my brightest beams ; 
 Retouch each wavelet with my silvery splendoi'. 
 As they urge on each other to the ocean." 
 Far from the water's bosom to the shore 
 Was heard each ripple's note of glad emotion, 
 Winged by brow-cooling breezes. And the leaves, 
 And blossoms, plants acquainted not before. 
 Stooped, touching lips in love, both warm and tender; 
 And each became the other's bold defender, 
 When ravished by the honey-seeking thieves. 
 
 Though nature homaged thy immortal being. 
 
 And flung its richest ofi'erings at thy feet, 
 
 I fain Avouldst look on thee, tho' scarcely seeing. 
 
 And catch one smile to make my life more sweet; 
 
 Or rather let thy voice o'erbrim each part 
 
 With thine own music, then my frail-strung voice 
 
 Will amplify its tones, and as it sings 
 
 Will deem this favor its distinguished choice. 
 
THE POET AND HIS MOODS. 51 
 
 And if I shame thee, truth-invested nurse, 
 'Tis not that I refuse thy nurturings ; 
 But that this love, abounding in my heart. 
 Cannot conform its utterances to art ; 
 Yet owns thee empress of its universe! 
 
 THE POET AND HIS MOODS. 
 
 What charm and skill the Poet hath ! 
 
 He weaves a garland of life's saddest story, 
 And bends above its darkest, roughest path 
 
 A bow of hope and glory ! 
 
 Sing, Poet, sing of beauty and of glory. 
 
 Of science with clear eyes for heavenlier seeing; 
 
 Of knowledge truth ward going, error fleeing; 
 
 Of music and her brother, oratory ; 
 
 And blend life's tragedy with nature's story. 
 
 Thy lyre is still the fire-strings of our being — 
 
 The trumpet with the asolian tones agreeing. 
 
 So play, the world shall heed, tho' old and hoary. 
 
 And time, tho' rushing on, shall hear the plajang, 
 
 And pluck the deathless pathos of the singing 
 
52 THE POET AND HIS MOODS. 
 
 To charm humanity, — a truant flying 
 
 From its protector, God ; bewildered and a-straying 
 
 In a dark wilderness ; no accents ringing 
 
 To woo it back, but His, or hush its crying. 
 
 Sing thou above the vender and the buyer, 
 The scorner, the betrayer, and the stinger; 
 The threat of bigot, and the shriek of brayer; 
 Some soul shall cull fresh hope and, mounting higher, 
 Will praise thy helpful song and bless the singer; 
 Some weakling heart shall cease to be a player 
 And wage the war on wrong with manly vigor. 
 
 Some hand spurn sword and, gun and, wisely eager. 
 Grasp pen or plough or wield the axe and hammer; 
 Some tongue choose Christian speech for vulgar 
 
 clamor, 
 The music of the books for ignorance's stammer. 
 
 Man, choose the mien of truth for folly's glamour 
 Grow agile-limbed, despite of habit's rigor. 
 
 Let love for the human pervade thy strain ; 
 All else may pass, thy epic must remain. 
 
THE POET'S TRIUMPH. 53 
 
 THE POET'S TEIUMPH. 
 
 'Tis the Poet's hour of triumph — 
 Sunbeam garlands ring his brows ; 
 
 Summer bears his lyre and mantle, 
 Eambling under leafful boughs. 
 
 Saying, " Minstrel, I adore thee, 
 I would linger where thou art : — 
 
 For thy music thrills my senses. 
 
 Stirs my blood and claims my heart. 
 
 " Choose me for thy sole companion, — 
 I, the maiden from the South, 
 
 Promise to esteem and serve you : 
 Seal your assent on my mouth." 
 
 Then Love gently interposes : 
 
 "I have cheered him thro' the years; 
 Balmed and healed his keenest sorrow. 
 
 Raised his hopes and stilled his fears. 
 
 "Wouldst thou be an interloper. 
 With thy soft and amorous wiles, 
 
 Livelier youth and gayer beauty. 
 Brighter eyes and warmer smiles ? 
 
54 THE POET'S TRIUMPH. 
 
 "Or dost seek to separate us? 
 
 Or what vengeance wouldst thou wreak?' 
 Then her tender pathos faltered, 
 
 And the tear-drops marked her cheek. 
 
 Then the Poet kindly wooed her: 
 
 "Thou hast been my guide and friend: 
 
 I am pledged to thee forever, 
 Wheresoe'er thy footsteps tend. 
 
 " Let this maiden tarr}^ with us, 
 
 For her pilgrimage is brief; 
 Though she wear a crown of roses, 
 
 Thine is of the sereless leaf. 
 
 " And her robe of filmy texture. 
 
 Woven by the sisters three. 
 Frail at best, will lose its lustre : 
 
 Thine is for eternity." 
 
 Then they sauntered on together, — 
 Love as glad as sunny June: 
 
 Summer singing, Poet striving 
 To repeat the matchless tune ! 
 
WHITTIER. 55 
 
 W H I T T 1 E K. 
 
 One of the builders of Truth's edifice, 
 
 Unconsciously thy thought and act have bound 
 The bays with which thy stainless brows are 
 crowned. 
 
 Now rest thy form : thou hast not toiled amiss ! 
 
 But wrought to lighten Slavery's black abyss, 
 
 While blinded thousands hissed, and scorned, and 
 
 laughed, — 
 Revealing then a matchless handicraft 
 
 To find at last a heritage of bliss. 
 
 The kindnesses of friends to aid and bless thee, 
 Who honor thy superior workmanship 
 With praises that outword the fiery lip ; 
 
 The arms of art and nature to caress thee ; 
 And, dearer, voices of a spirit band, 
 Who bend to hear thy pinnace grate the sand. 
 
 I see the house of honor thou hast built: 
 
 A fane, where godlike men could kneel and pray, 
 And feel the grandeur of a newer day; 
 
 And evil-doers spurn the lures of guilt. 
 
56 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 A structure graced with wisdom's imageries, 
 Clothed on with holy beauty ; gem-like hopes, 
 Set in imagination's golden tropes, 
 
 More valuable than pearls of Persian seas ! 
 
 And virtue's rich mosaics spread before thee, 
 A dome of love, like Heaven, arching o'er thee, 
 
 For sure protection ; walls of faith, so strong 
 That flesh and spirit are more strongly willed 
 
 To bear, unmoved and calm, the blows of wrong ; 
 A house which time or death could never build ! 
 Mayst thou and age together sweetly live. 
 
 Like fond, heart-bound companions sorrow freed ; 
 
 And we who linger near its entrance read : 
 "Who enters here thy brothers sins forgive!" 
 
 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 A TRUANT from Life's school, I found myself, 
 One summer day, at Poesy's perfect inn ; 
 And saw a guest, unhurt by fault or sin, 
 
 Who postured not to power, or place, or pelf; 
 
 Whose life was sweet and redolent as June's ; 
 Whose catholic heart embraced the world as kin 
 And as he came, his glances smote the din, 
 
 And changed the harshest discords into tunes. 
 
KEATS. 57 
 
 And then I quaffed a beaker to his fame, — 
 A rain-filled lily was my cup and wine, — 
 And prest my heartiest blessing in his hand, 
 
 And said, " Grand Poet ! worthy of the name 
 Nature has given thee, at Love's command, 
 
 Allow my feet to mark the tracks of thine; 
 And if I cannot wholly feel thy thought, 
 At least I may applaud that thou hast wrought!" 
 
 KEATS. 
 
 Neglected Keats, thou youthful prince of song! 
 
 A Pan and Ceres were thy king and queen ; 
 
 And thou didst ride, from classic scene to scene, 
 In Fancy's noiseless chai*iot, swift and strong. 
 And I, thy changeless lover, from the throng 
 
 Wouldst follow where thy pilgrim feet have been ; 
 
 And catch a view of thy poetic mien, 
 And hear thy matchless lyre its notes prolong. 
 
 I fain wouldst honor thy melodious verse 
 
 With words of praise, but eloquence is mute ; 
 And sorrow melts the heart and pales the cheek. 
 Before the spectre of the cold, deaf curse 
 That struck thee down ; though giving us the fruit 
 That, since thy death, the years pronounce unique! 
 
58 SHELLEY. 
 
 BYE ON. 
 
 The Poet brought a doleful air, 
 
 And as the tear-drops wet the strings, 
 It turned its subtle vibratings 
 
 To one long octave of despair! 
 
 What blow of fate had bowed his head? 
 
 Had all his kindred proved untrue? 
 
 Ah ! Love, his playmate, waved adieu, 
 And Hope, his sometime guest, was dead 
 
 SHELLEY. 
 
 Great bard, and true disciple of the Muse ! 
 
 A helpful heart was thine for others' pains; 
 
 And so, indelible to Mammon's stains, 
 To love an ingrate world couldst only choose! 
 Bold troubadour, fed with Castalian dews, 
 
 The certain charm and sweetness of thy strains, 
 
 Exquisite, are transfigured and remains 
 Attired in nature's and expression's hues. 
 
BRYANT. ' 59 
 
 And though thy mind didst err, we love and laud 
 The subtle cadence of each vibrant chord, 
 Transmitted to the beauty of thy verse : 
 
 The trumpet tones in scorn of tyrants' rods ; 
 The dulcet airs in praise of Morning's bird. 
 The sweetest elegy man ever heard ; — 
 
 All that thou musicked forth of men or gods 
 Seems incarnated ; though the shroud and. hearse 
 
 Were not thy portion, thy wave-smothered breath 
 
 Still sweeps and echoes through the halls of Death ! 
 And though thy slender frame was quenched by fire. 
 
 The soul inspired by love from earliest youth 
 Is known and honored b}^ the laurelled choir 
 
 Who lay their trophies at the feet of Truth ; 
 Thy richest gift was song, and in the heart 
 We feel its genius, smoothed and schooled by Art. 
 
 BEY ANT. 
 
 Unpathomed Nature's Artist, when I ponder 
 
 On thy true pictures, my heart swells with pride; 
 Applausive too, that thou hast been a guide 
 
 Of her demesne, discerning some new wonder 
 With every distance plodded by her side; 
 
60 BRYANT. 
 
 Some fresh, sweet thing that made our homage 
 fonder ; 
 Perchance, in forest depths or on the tide ; 
 Or sung in softest notes or tones of thunder. 
 
 Staid poet, while thy singing charms the ear, 
 
 And calms the agitations of the heart, 
 
 I fain would question thee. Say, didst thou learn 
 These secrets from the seasons' fair return, 
 
 And deftly weave them in thj' rhymes by art? 
 
 Or didst thou breathe a purer atmosphere, 
 Where sense and soul do nothing but aspire, 
 And rise above the lowlands of desire? 
 
 For thou didst reach the summits most sublime 
 Of truth and wisdom, only yielding up 
 Thy length of thought-ripe years, to take the cup 
 
 And don the garments of perpetual prime ! 
 Accept a nation's praise, white-handed bai'd 
 
 (Whose impeccable spirit still invites 
 
 With smiles and gestures to the heavenly heights) : 
 The best we erive to thee is evil-starred ! 
 
NATURE'S ROOM. 61 
 
 NATUEE'S EOOM. 
 
 'Tis sweet to roam through Nature's gorgeous room, 
 Where green-paved stairways, fit for angel feet. 
 Lead near the tasselled corn or yellowed wheat ; 
 Or fairer, winding through sweet views of bloom. 
 Of groups, all glistening color and perfume. 
 Which nod a welcome to each verdured seat ; 
 Where sunshine and the zejDhyr seem too fleet. 
 And coolness glides through aisles of foliaged gloom. 
 
 Where Sculpture's trophies are the lofty woods. 
 And Painting's gems the flowers ; and Music's moods 
 Are pictured in the thrush or robin's hymn 
 That fills this latticed, shifting roof of green. 
 And fountains, too, are here: each bubbling spring 
 Seems quite their equal in its flowing joy, 
 Purling, as if the day would ne'er grow dim, 
 Nor earth-bound childi'en quit the cordial scene. 
 Where light and beauty dash, and gleam, and swing, 
 And Opulence dilates without alloy! 
 
 A peerless room, untouched by age or art. 
 
 And built transcendently, ere art was born ; 
 
 Whose vast magnificence we see in part, 
 
 Whose doors and windows are the night and morn. 
 
62 THE SUN AND SEA AND EARTH. 
 
 THE SUN AND SEA AND EAETH. 
 
 O Sun, Prometheus like, I fain would steal 
 The bursts of warmth thy systems feel ; 
 But, I the phantasy, thy splendors real, 
 Like magnet to the steel ! 
 
 often dappling Sea, I would portray 
 The boundless reaches of your sway, — 
 A Hercules when angered; in thy play. 
 We kiss thy harmless spray! 
 
 And thou, space-girdled Earth, I would declare 
 Thy quintessences that we share ; 
 Thy miracles of life spread everywhere, 
 Thy sounds beyond compare ! 
 
 Golden Sun, sapphire Sea, and emerald Earth, 
 Triumvirs of patrician birth ! 
 
 1 fain would be a flower at your girth, 
 A wavelet of your mirth, 
 
 A beamlet of your worth ! 
 
THE APPROACHING DAY. 63 
 
 THE APPKOACHING DAY. 
 
 Afar, the faintest crimson streaks the east, 
 Auspicious herald of the Grod of day. 
 As night, enrobed in shadows, glides away, 
 And leaves uncovered nature's sateless feast. 
 Ah! from earth's proudest creatui-e to the least, 
 The stream and lake and ocean's foamy play; 
 The tree and plant and flower's rich array; 
 The feathered songster and recumbent beast, — 
 All wait his coming with expectant eyes. 
 Behold! the red is grown a wavy flood 
 Of color, mixed with clouds of mottled dyes ! 
 And he, led by the Seraphim of good, 
 Ascendeth step by step the azure skies, 
 Crowned Kuler of the starry brotherhood ! 
 Advancing, till his beauty hurts the sight. 
 And all the world is drenched in dazzling light. 
 
64 A PEERLESS MORNING. 
 
 A PEEELESS MOENING. 
 
 The Morn, in new attire of Sol's device, 
 
 Flings health and gladness from her lap, and stops 
 
 To greet the darkest pool and roughest copse : 
 
 A Morn soliciting the deeds of Love, 
 
 Like that which Milton dreamed and musicked of, 
 
 "Was Eve's, ere she had lost a Paradise! 
 
 A Morn, presageful of a cloudless day, — 
 Green-belted, azure-capped, and golden-haired. 
 Like that which Shelley saw from Spezia's bay. 
 Or Byron from Lake Leman's wooded banks ; 
 So sweet we slip our cares and render thanks, 
 And deem the earth more worthy to be trod : 
 We share the feeling sage-like Coleridge shared, 
 When his rapt soul was fed with ecstasy ; 
 When, gazing on Mont Blanc from Chamouni, 
 He heard earth's thousand voices praising God. 
 
TO-MORRO W. 65 
 
 TO-MOEROW. 
 
 Die, lurid day, so that to-morrow's sun 
 
 May chariot forth, in pomp, a lustrous day, 
 
 Whose hours of mirth and joy will seem as one. 
 Clad in the richest things of earth's display. 
 
 A day, indeed, of nature's grand revealing. 
 
 When her sweet face is flushed with tender looks, 
 
 And the pleased heart, so full of praiseful feeling. 
 Hears music from the secret caves and nooks. 
 
 A day redundant with its fruits and flowers, 
 Of Ceres 'mid her fields a sylvan queen ; 
 
 And Pan a monarch guarding his great flocks ; 
 
 When birds sing gladlier from their leafy towers, 
 
 And waters purl more gently 'gainst the rocks. 
 And lawns and meadows show their glossiest green. 
 
 A day when all the senses feel the scene. 
 
 And every sound, and shape, and odor pleases, 
 Warmed by the light, and swept by healthy breezes, 
 
 With grove of tasselled chestnuts stretched between. 
 
 A day whose gracious close would bring release 
 
 To an outwearied brain, — a Sabbath span of Peace. 
 
66 AN APRIL RAIN. 
 
 AN APEIL EAIN. 
 
 The storm, whose vans of vapor screen the sun, 
 Speeds on in anger and southwestward steers, 
 Like an Attila ravenous for spoil, 
 And hales the day a captive in his train, 
 All cuffed and pelted by the wind and rain, 
 Defeatured ; only here and there a print 
 Of April's feet, and those of sombre tint ; 
 Yet, the green-coated guardians of the soil 
 Defend her form, and with uplifted spears 
 And dauntless front and file, that seem as one, 
 Eepulse and stay the baleful storm's advances, 
 And splintering into spray his million lances. 
 
 The storm is vanquished, and the setting light 
 
 Defines a semicircle in the west, 
 
 Between red-margined isles of purple cloud, 
 
 That catch its fai'ewell look ; the robins sing 
 
 The glad arrival of delaying Spring, 
 
 Whose warblings fix her timid heart at ease ; 
 
 They call her to their palace in the trees 
 
 Of fruitage blossoms, and the which are bowed 
 
THE SUN. 
 
 m 
 
 Bj' lulling airs, to sweep her head and breast 
 On either side, alternate pink and white. 
 And large nature bequeaths her wide demesne, 
 As her tribute gift, to the young, fair queen. 
 
 THE SUN. 
 
 Best simile of God's unsullied throne! 
 
 From thee was caught the fire of starry states ; 
 Flash of his sceptre's flame that came alone 
 
 Through a slight crevice of the pearly gates, 
 And witnessed the conception, and the birth, 
 Of every dumb and voiceful form of earth ! 
 
 Thou jsrelude of creation ! dost thou miss 
 
 One of the starry creatures round thee hurled ? 
 
 Or urge their motions through the vast abyss, 
 As thou dost draw the vapors of our world? 
 
 Oh ! build thy bridge of weightless spans and piers, 
 
 That Time may carry o'er its load of years! 
 
 Thou stellar Abdiel ! whose quenchless fire 
 Eeplenishes the flame of evening's lamp, 
 
 Disperse the vapors charged with blight, nor tire, 
 But smite to death the loathsome mist and damp ; 
 
 The unseen pestilence that walks the air, 
 
 To add new sorrows to our life of care. 
 
(58 THE SUN AND SEA. 
 
 Diseerner of the present and the past! 
 
 Ilhimine still the ether with thy blaze ; 
 As thou wast first, so shalt thou be the last 
 
 By God extinguished ; thy pellucid raj'S 
 Shall vanish only when this disk of green, 
 Grown palsied, yieldeth to a grander scene! 
 
 Unwearied patriarch, how true thou art! 
 
 Neglecting not the smallest blade or leaf; 
 But, like the kindness of a loyal heart, 
 
 Diffusing thy still cordial of relief 
 E'en when the struggles of an inwai'd storm 
 Are visible upon thy stately form. 
 
 Thou distant marvel of God's workmanship ! 
 
 When gazing on thy face, a sudden thrill 
 Darts to the heart, and languages the lip 
 
 To swell thy worth ; the heart to love thee still. 
 O bless earth's charms and creatures, and our home, 
 And warm to life the bounties yet to come ! 
 
 THE SUN AND SEA. 
 
 The Sun, like a freed cageling, cleaves earth's cover, 
 And greets the Ocean with its virgin kiss; 
 
 Yes, dallying and wooing like a lovei*. 
 Flushed to the brows with bliss! 
 
THE SUN AND SEA. f,9 
 
 Beloved Ocean ! is thy bosom cold 
 
 From long exposure to the glooms of night? 
 
 Or didst Storm's fitful bluster make thee bold 
 To motion thy delight? 
 
 Perhaps the gem-eyed Arabs of the sky 
 Surveyed the varying aspects of thy face ; 
 
 Or the late-coming Moon, more cold and shy, 
 Haloed each wind-blown grace? 
 
 Perchance she blanched the pallor of the wave 
 To warn it of its near approach to death ; 
 
 That only sand would be its wreathless grave, 
 And stop its clamorous breath ! 
 
 And Ocean answers : " Lord of fiery globes, — 
 Whose single glance illumes the misty earth, — 
 
 I love to view thee jmrt thy vapory robes, 
 And feel thee clasp my girth. 
 
 "I love thy constant warmth and dazzling splendor, 
 Now shown in countless smiles upon my breast: 
 
 I fain would grow like thee, both true and tendei', 
 And be at peace and rest. 
 
 "Ah! 'tis my fate to wander unsubdued,' 
 To struggle, vainly, like old Laocoon ; 
 
 Whilst thou dost look and act in calmest mood, 
 And earth string summers tune." 
 
70 SPRING. 
 
 A NIGHT SCENE. 
 
 How beautiful this night! the rounded moon, 
 
 Like a fond mother, guards the sleeping woi'ld : 
 The storm that threatened war, at sultry noon, 
 
 Is passed, with all its cloudy banners furled. 
 And left o'erhead a hollow amethyst — 
 
 From the horizon to the zenith's height — 
 Encrusted thick with brilliant gems instead ; 
 And earth, the bloodless victor, bares her head 
 
 To don the meed, like some Crusader knight, 
 Crowned by his choice as champion in the list, 
 And wears it as a sign of her release 
 From strife and turmoil, — the grandest meed of 
 Peace ! 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 Despite salutes of snowy whirl, 
 The dying scoff of March the churl. 
 Shy April, with all courtesy. 
 
 Steps in and says, " Good-day, good health,' 
 To each expectant votary 
 
 Within Spring's widening commonwealth ! 
 
SPRING. 71 
 
 "And more, what harmless luck is yours, 
 Since sunshine's countless coin endures! 
 
 And who but he would reimburse 
 (As if the rates were usurers') 
 
 The taxes borrowed from j'our purse ! 
 Rejoice, Spring's ardent worshippers, 
 
 For Winter's rude phalanx has struck." 
 I answer, having heard the frog, 
 White-smocked, chuckle from the bog; 
 
 The piping toad, and warning cluck, 
 Long silent, of the mother fowl ; 
 And having braved the tempest's scowl, 
 To read the leaf's red-pui-fled sign 
 Of folded green on tree and vine. 
 
 "Ah, April, I forecasted this, 
 Ere I had felt your clasp and kiss. 
 Ere I had seen your gracile shape 
 Behind the storm's black-broidered cape; 
 Ere Sol's regalia decked j^our breast 
 And showed your face the goodliest 
 
 That ever dared the season's frown ; 
 For on the slope, a few days since, 
 An emerald glimmering was traced, 
 
 Between the withered tufts of brown. 
 By some good forester or pi-ince 
 Of comely port, your suitor, passed 
 
72 SPRING. 
 
 And dropped this fadeless lure to win you, 
 Or as a guide to spring's retinue; 
 
 Ay, ere this sign is rightly known, 
 Or you have soothed our long suspense, 
 
 A cavalcade will here be shown 
 Of tropical magnificence, — 
 A host with banners and with song, 
 To cheer us on while days grow long. 
 
 " Come, April, seek my lonely tent 
 And bid me be your confident; 
 And pour those secrets in my ear 
 That soon your sister May shall hear ; 
 Yes, speak the language lovers speak, 
 "When fervor glows from eye and cheek ; 
 And having only brought good news, 
 How sweet shall be our interviews ! 
 
 " I'll learn whether your magic rod 
 Possess the virtue Aaron's had ; 
 
 Could bring such plumage to the sod 
 And make the tit and bluebird glad ; 
 
 Or could bring down, thro' rain and mist, 
 
 The heaven's flawless amethyst, 
 
 And give it to the violet ; 
 
 Or gather, like Saint Peter's net, 
 
SPRING. 73 
 
 All colors from the bow, to make 
 A nosegay for your sister's sake ; 
 Or put your veiy life in pawn 
 To buy for earth the tints of morn ; 
 
 " Come, April, sit you down and chat ; 
 
 And I will garner every thought 
 Of waxing nature's this and that, 
 And hint of power that can transmute 
 The sodden soil to gold of fruit ; 
 The inner veil shall part in twain. 
 And all the seci-ets be made plain 
 Of bursting bud and spreading shoot, 
 And their outgrowth from bulb and root; 
 And while the flyers mount and sing, 
 
 Allow the flowers you have brought 
 To date the calendar of Spring!" 
 
 Within the meadow's tangles, tricked in snow, 
 I caught a sudden glimpse of Spring's return : 
 The clues, the clover leaf, the grass, and fern, — 
 These show their vigor ere the violets blow, 
 Or woodland's mingled sweets pass to and fro; 
 And spike-like dandelions 'front the cold. 
 And waxen buttercups, and both of gold, — 
 These plainly mark the foot-paths we should go. 
 
74 SPRING. 
 
 I know my heart, like children with a toy, 
 
 Will throb most swift to see the pansies bloom. 
 
 To squeeze the shrubs and suck their keen perfume ; 
 
 But what is equal to the bounding joy 
 
 We feel, when first we hear the robin's trill, 
 
 Or hear the trickling rill or bluebird sing? 
 
 Or pull the first wild-flower, knowing that Spring 
 
 Has greened our favorite seat on bank and hill ? 
 
 S P E I N G. 
 
 March, the vandal, is slain in the final charge; 
 For Spring embarks in her royal barge, 
 
 And the laughing crew, 
 In voluble pairs 
 (A safe excui'sion be theirs), 
 
 Oar away through the opulent blue ; 
 Glad to abandon the quay of dawn ; 
 Spring, in her beauty and youth 
 
 And exquisite robes 
 (Unbought in vanity's booth), 
 Outlining her body's shape : 
 
 The turn of limbs to her bosom's moleless globes 
 Swelling to escape; 
 
SPRING. 75 
 
 Spring, with a mantle of greenness on, 
 
 And woven of every shade, 
 
 With apple and cherry blossoms ovei'laid ; 
 
 And sprays of lilacs for bows, 
 
 And Guelder-roses for furbelows ; 
 
 And cowslips running a yellow hem ; 
 
 And mottled pansies for clasps ; 
 And proud in carriage, and winsome of face 
 (Like Diana drest and capped for chase), 
 
 A bunch of roses she deftly grasps 
 And shakes the aroma over them ; 
 
 Extravagant gift ! 
 
 Now across and over the gossamer drift 
 
 They lazily slip ; 
 Or through the golden billowy glow 
 Steadily, quietly row. 
 
 A glorious trip ! 
 
 Each rower, watching the helmsman's moves. 
 
 Anticipating the old command, 
 
 To reverse and bend towards the land 
 
 Heaving in view ; this but only proves 
 
 An omen to her heart of the moment's birth. 
 
 When her head shall rest on the shoulder of earth, 
 
 And feel the passionate clasp of his. 
 
 Like Paolo's lips, Francesca's direful kiss ! 
 
76 TO SPRING. 
 
 " Bend to, my oarmen, and swiftly move, 
 I fain his strenuous love would prove ; 
 I feel the welcome awaiting us, 
 This very wind is a stimulus ! 
 
 Ah, the royal banquet is set for all, 
 A sweet repast from the golden age, 
 With odors for meat, and song for beverage, 
 And waters singing, and birds a-trilling. 
 And handsome Cei*es, benign and willing, 
 
 To head or follow the festival !" 
 
 TO SPEING. 
 
 Hasten, Spring, and thatch the roof 
 That Winter pilfered, — Arctic thief! 
 With every hue and cut of leaf. 
 
 And weave it trebly weather proof. 
 
 Toil on till every gap is filled. 
 
 That kine may come to rest and browse; 
 
 The crickets chirp, the bees carouse, 
 The yellow-jacks reswarm and build ! 
 
TO SPRING. 77 
 
 And early birds remate and nest, 
 And sing and leap, and idly preen ; 
 In contrast to the large leaf's green. 
 
 The robin show its scarlet vest. 
 
 And, while 3-011 work, I'll lightly doze 
 And dream that April softly breathes 
 Of violets ; that June enwreaths 
 
 The lilac, pansy, and the rose; 
 
 Or July, tired of heaping sheaves. 
 Fevered and thirsty, seeks its shade; 
 While southern zephyrs, half afraid. 
 
 Twirl whiflfs of solace thro' the leaves. 
 
 Or Autumn comes, wrapt in a mist, 
 And sprinkles a light down of rime: 
 The late flowers shrivel in their prime. 
 
 The woodland's gx-een cannot resist. 
 
 But shrinks to orange, pink, and red ; 
 A sweeping robe of gorgeous tints 
 That, with this show of color, hints 
 
 To lovers' eyes it is not dead ! 
 
 But soon the rich sap of its veins 
 Is quenched, its beauty paled and gone ; 
 And Winter's Juggernaut drives on. 
 
 With bleak December at the reins! 
 
78 MARCH. 
 
 Hasten, Spring, and clothe the oak, 
 The maple, sycamore, and pine ; 
 For you are sent by Powers divine. 
 
 And may this be your master-stroke ! 
 
 MAECH. 
 
 Victorious March annuls the war 
 
 That Winter waged thro' light and gloom ; 
 And he, who rivalled fabled Thor, 
 
 Grizzled and stooped, awaits his doom ! 
 
 The down like robes and holly wreath 
 Wrap not his chilling form and brow ; 
 
 The pointless spear and sword in sheath 
 Are laid aside and useless now ! 
 
 And, when the dull and plumeless hearse 
 Shall bear him to the fiowerless tomb. 
 
 Wild March shall chant a praiseful verse. 
 Infused with scents of coming bloom. 
 
 And he who won the bloodless field. 
 And freed his ice-chained prisoners. 
 
 Should wear the violet on his shield, 
 The bluebirds be his couriers ! 
 
MARCH. 79 
 
 MARCH. 
 
 The morning came, arrayed in rosj' splendor, 
 
 Her ruddy face a metaphor of mirth, 
 Gazing below with glances swift and tender, 
 
 As if to warm the countenance of earth ; 
 And by her side the sylph-like form of Spring 
 
 Seemed marshalling her crowd of votaries,^ 
 The sprightly birds, the buds, and opening flowers ; 
 The water's murmuring 
 
 Of gladness 'neath the early-sprouting trees. 
 And shoots of grass that told of Sol's great powers. 
 
 Another morning came, and lo, the change : 
 
 Concealed her crimson cheeks and lustrous eyes! 
 Snow-builded stretches fill the vision's range, 
 
 And hush, to scarce-heard lispings, natui*e's cries. 
 The wrathful blast, too, urges on the storm, 
 
 Like Orestes, the fated charioteer, 
 With reckless movement through the sunless arch ; 
 And that angelic form 
 
 I thought so fair and meek, doth now appear, 
 The graceless figure of capricious March ! 
 
80 MAF. 
 
 MAY. 
 
 Bud-laden May, the queen of flowers, 
 Spring's dearest child, is with us now, 
 
 Though hidden by gray skies and showers 
 She comes with beauty on her brow. 
 
 Borne by the golden-harnessed hours. 
 
 And as her figure passes by,- 
 
 The fruit-trees j)elt her on the crown 
 
 With gorgeous blossoms ; robins fly 
 Around and sing of her renown, 
 
 And imitate her sweet reply. 
 
 The blading grasses kiss her feet ; 
 
 The plants stoop down to touch her form 
 The young leaves and the branches meet 
 
 Above her head ; the sunbeams warm. 
 And perfumes float about her seat. 
 
 Where'er she goes, by vale or stream. 
 
 She is a presence of delight, — 
 A nymph that lives on air and beam, 
 
 And walks this earth to make it bright. 
 Like visions of a pleasant dream. 
 
MAY- TIME. 81 
 
 MAY- TIME. 
 
 Oh, the May-time, youthful May-time! 
 
 Coming like a maiden true, 
 Paint our senses with thy beauty ; 
 
 Every scent and sound and hue. 
 
 Richest blossoms of the orchard. 
 Sweetest warble of the bird, 
 
 Fairest flowers of lawn and garden, 
 And the grasses' greenest word. 
 
 Softest gush of limpid crystal, 
 Finest leaf that e'er was spun, 
 
 Grace of hill and bloom of valley. 
 Haloed by the setting sun. 
 
 Oh, the May-time, gentle May-time ! 
 
 Give to us thy tranquil will, 
 That the passions may be governed. 
 
 And the heart be firm and still. 
 
 Oh, the May-time, jocund May-time! 
 
 Grant to us thy harmless jo}^. 
 That the mind may seek thy secrets, 
 
 And accept a new employ. 
 6 
 
82 JUNE. 
 
 JUNE. 
 
 Kind charioteer of summer weather, 
 Eestore the beauty May concealed ; 
 
 That my sweet love and I, together, 
 May traverse the wood and field. 
 
 Retint with deeper hues the flowers ; 
 
 Increase the forest's mint of leaves ; — 
 And these will be our only bowers. 
 
 At sunlit noons or moonlit eves. 
 
 And carpet deep the teeming ground 
 With grasses of the darkest green ; 
 
 Each hill and vale and plantless mound, 
 With tangled, beaded vines between. 
 
 Where'er we go, by river bank, 
 Or hidden glen, or shadowy glade. 
 
 Bring forth some creature of thy rank 
 To ply the charm of light and shade ! 
 
 Conceal us by thy leafy armor, 
 As we caress and press our lips ; 
 
 And then we'll call thee holy charmer, 
 Whose arts shall never feel eclipse ! 
 
A DAY IN JUNE. 83 
 
 A DAY IN JUNE. 
 
 The soul forgets its daily guise, 
 
 Of pains and aches, and groans and sighs. 
 
 And views strange things with altered eyes. 
 
 The concord of the summer sky, 
 Descending, stills earth's shrillest cry. 
 It cannot language a reply. 
 
 A calm, so sweet, is spread around. 
 It charms the singer's softest sound, 
 And names the flat swai'd, holy ground. 
 
 The richness of the vaulted blue 
 
 Enhances earth's most sombre hue. 
 
 So pure, that God seems smiling through ! 
 
 Earth lies supine, and notes its hints. 
 An album for my greenest prints. 
 While ocean steals its darkest tints. 
 
 And nature seems as if in swoon. 
 As morning turns to dazzling noon 
 Beneath the tread of Sol's gold shoon. 
 
84 THE DOUBLE MIRROR. 
 
 Then afternoon glides out of sight 
 As swiftly as the swallow's flight, 
 And evening comes to herald night. 
 
 And night walks on the azure porch, 
 
 And holds aloft her silver torch. 
 
 Whose rays shall neither blind nor scorch ! 
 
 THE DOUBLE MIEEOE. 
 
 I WATCHED the flawless mirror of the pool 
 
 Eeflecting clear each object flitting by : — 
 
 The flight of bird, the clouds, the patch of sky, 
 
 And tree-tops shaken by the breezes cool. 
 
 And thought, although a pupil of this school, 
 
 The glass of life reflects its beauties too : 
 
 Each aspiration's startling tone and hue. 
 
 Each look and touch, unharmed by passion's rule. 
 
 Yes, clearer than the water's image, thought 
 
 And fancy, noble impulse and desire, 
 
 Are glassed, not only in their faint outline, 
 
 But bodily, heated by the spirit's fire ; 
 
 As if they were companions most divine, 
 
 By some mysterious power or wisdom Avrought. 
 
HINTS BY THE WAY. 85 
 
 HINTS BY THE WAY. 
 
 When weary of the burning street, — 
 
 Its forms, and shows, and jostling feet. 
 
 The rustlings of a single tree 
 
 Seem then the grandest minstrelsy ; 
 
 Its tasselled tops and leafy shade 
 
 More dear than domes that man has made ; 
 
 Its gnarled branches, which we grasp. 
 
 More friendly than a human clasp ; 
 
 Bending over us in its love, 
 
 With noise below and peace above. 
 
 And we would dream, beneath its arms, 
 
 Of grand old woods and summer's charms. 
 
 The wild grass at the pavement's edge 
 Seems then an orphan of the meadow, — 
 Torn from its brother of the hedge 
 To prosper here in dust and shadow ; 
 Without one flower to soothe its life. 
 Or murmuring creek to chide the strife ; 
 Ay, — blading near the rough-hewn stone. 
 As if it wished to be alone ; 
 
S6 A DOWN-TRODDEN FLOWER. 
 
 Now darting its slim spears of green, 
 
 Like sentinels of some sylvan scene, 
 
 Where birds and bees, and fields and streams, 
 
 Unite to sway the poet's dreams. 
 
 And yet this tree, which guards the pave, 
 
 Will watch its growth and mark its grave ; 
 
 And while its branches sway and toss, 
 
 Some cricket will endiro;e its loss. 
 
 A DOWN-TRODDEN FLOWEE. 
 
 Yes, an outcast from the garden, 
 Flung beneath the human crush, 
 
 There to perish in the turmoil. 
 There to lose its scent and blush. 
 
 Once its petals might have cherished 
 
 Softest pressure of the lips. 
 Undulations of the bosom. 
 
 Touches of white finger-tips. 
 
 Or a girl's breath might have fanned it 
 
 With a zephyr ever new, 
 Bi-ightest smiles for morning sunbeams. 
 
 Secret tears for twilijrht dew ! 
 
OUR GARDEN. 87 
 
 Or, more sweet, its lustrous color 
 Might have lit the sufferer's room, 
 
 Filling all the dai'k, lone places 
 With a soothing, soft perfume. 
 
 Ah ! 'twas fated not to be a 
 
 Lover's charge or beauty's guest. 
 
 But to lie a waif neglected. 
 In the mire to find its rest. 
 
 'Tis the same with our existence : 
 Some find treasures rich and fair; 
 
 Others plod life's bustling highway, 
 Crushed at last by heels of Care ! 
 
 OUE GAEDEK 
 
 Our garden shuns the thoroughfare : 
 A small, square plat of earth, 
 
 Eeft of exotics, rich and rare. 
 And palms of tropic birth ; 
 
 But simple flowers bloom gladh' there, 
 And lithograph their worth, 
 
 And plants of such low pedigree. 
 
 The wild grass seeks their companj^. 
 
88 OUR GARDEN. 
 
 'Tis not enclosed with stone and glass, 
 Nor graced with nymphs in stone ; 
 
 Nor fountains play upon the grass ; 
 But pansies newly blown, 
 
 Velvety soft, and in a mass, 
 Reveal an art their own ; 
 
 The roses too, their comrades fair, — 
 
 The sweetest births of sun and air! 
 
 The giant sunflower is its warden : 
 Armed with its shield of seeds. 
 
 Which larger grows; yet nodding pardon 
 To each trespasser's deeds. 
 
 More strange, the perfumer of the garden. 
 The tuberose, still feeds 
 
 Its incense, bares its ivory skin. 
 
 To its less fair and fragrant kin. 
 
 And here th' violet finds a corner, 
 
 To spy, with eyes so blue, 
 That it is no wonder the great Adorner 
 
 Painted Heaven the same hue ! 
 Nor that it grieves the dolt and scorner 
 
 To see it wave adieu; 
 Yet, strange, the morning-glory's bell 
 Peals to the hlies, "All is well." 
 
THE WOODLAND'S CHARMS. 89 
 
 The thick geraniums fix their claims 
 
 In scarlet rows for hedge ; 
 The sleek verbenas, in their aims 
 
 To keep their early pledge, 
 Press forward all their freshest flames. 
 
 And reach bej'^ond its edge; 
 And e'en the heliotrope upbears, 
 To blend its milder hues with theirs. 
 
 Sun-favored things, whose bells are pealing 
 
 For worship at your shrines. 
 Whose silky petals are revealing 
 
 Perfection of designs, 
 Whose thrilling odors come a-stealing. 
 
 While now our garden shines. 
 Be ever the emblems of the pure, — 
 •The richest virtu of the poor ! 
 
 THE WOODLAND'S CHAEMS. 
 
 After the sudden summer gust. 
 What cool, fresh, precious smells 
 
 That haunted and ambushed themselves 
 In hollows, fields, and dells. 
 
 Entrance the senses, like the elves 
 Do by their subtle spells ! 
 
90 THE WOODLAND'S CHARMS. 
 
 And tbo' the storm, like an Amazon, 
 
 Had rushed on unawares, 
 And i*ent and tossed their leafy tents. 
 
 Yet these mute, sightless airs 
 Had drawn from her their keenest scents, 
 
 And baffled all her snares ! 
 
 And when these vestal visitors, 
 
 That would not pass me by. 
 Had lulled the fevered flesh and blood. 
 
 And silenced whim and sigh, — 
 Like April soothes a drooping bud, 
 
 I said, you must not die, 
 
 For in my heart I found a lodge 
 
 Of laced phantasies, 
 Shot thro' with fancy's rays and gleams 
 
 Of antique melodies, 
 And arras wrought with lovers' dreams 
 
 And poets' reveries. 
 
 And this shall house your sweetness in 
 
 From autumn's windy raids. 
 And winter's flings of snow and ice; 
 
 And when my palace fades, 
 Flora shall fill the air with spice. 
 
 And deck the leaf arcades. 
 
THE AUTUMN WIND. 91 
 
 Or Summer, deeming you were lost, 
 
 Shall wave her green ensign 
 Above a rose-topped garden, masked 
 
 By many a bush and vine. 
 And search and plead, where you have basked, 
 
 " Eeturn, fond forms, be mine." 
 
 THE AUTUMN WIND. 
 
 All day the wilful wind has sped, 
 
 Like rough Mazeppa's fear-spurred, reinless steed, 
 
 As if the skies were but a span, 
 Or its sheer spaces were too limited 
 To show its gracefulness and speed. 
 And test its lusty limbs. 
 (The wind, too, has its rashful whims, 
 
 Like fx-enzied man !) 
 But now it halts and breathes with even breath 
 And whinnies for its pitiless master, — 
 
 The black-browed Storm. 
 And see! he comes, and mounts its tameless form 
 
 (Now for warfare and disaster), 
 
 And gallops on to death ! 
 
92 AFTER THE STORM. 
 
 AFTEE THE STOEM. 
 
 The sky is trooped with clouds, 
 
 And, close between 
 Itself and earth, the storm 
 
 Is heard and seen 
 To scatter from its form 
 
 A riper green 
 
 On bud, and blade, and leaf; 
 
 The shaggy pine 
 Is tipped with emerald fire ; 
 
 And every vine 
 Boasts of a new attire, 
 
 And laughs at mine ! 
 
 And tho' the storm is gone. 
 
 It would not balk 
 The longing of the root 
 
 Or leafless stalk ; 
 But promised growth and fruit. 
 
 And down the walk 
 
AFTER THE STORM. 93 
 
 What range of colors glow — 
 
 From which to choose ! 
 The lilacs' purpling sprays ; 
 
 The pansies' blues; 
 And thick geraniums' maze 
 
 Of scarlet hues ! 
 
 The roses' pinks and whites 
 
 "Would you select? 
 Or lilies' creamy bowls, 
 
 All golden flecked? 
 And quaffed by happy souls 
 
 And bards, elect! 
 
 And over all the shrubs 
 And woodbine spill 
 
 Their honeyed redolence ; 
 And from the rill 
 
 Up to the bush -hid fence, 
 It flutters still ! 
 
94 JULY. 
 
 JULY. 
 
 I YEARN for the proud almoner, July, 
 
 To enter and redeem her scented j^ledges. 
 Whispered beside the bloomless lilac hedges, 
 
 Where cricket's chirp and locust's crinkled cry 
 
 Forewarned her advent, like a stealthy spy; 
 But lo, she comes down thro' my thrifty garden, 
 With smiles and glances that implore a pardon 
 
 For tardiness, — the which could we deny? 
 
 Stay, Gardener, and use thy wizard power! 
 Uplift with beauty's gifts spare want and use, 
 Transmute the rain, and dew, and sun, and breeze 
 
 Into new deeper hues for grass and flower ; 
 And for the peach, plum, pear, and apple trees 
 
 Eare tints and palatable meat and juice ; 
 
 And for the grape and melon the same spice 
 
 Our father Adam sipped in Paradise. 
 
A UTUMN. 95 
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 'Tis sad, we say, that these fine scenes should pass, 
 This splendid spectacle of earth and sky 
 Should fade like fabrics from a human die ! 
 
 The flowers and flowering weeds and seeded grass, 
 
 The earnest gossips of the flagged morass. 
 
 The birds' shrill pipe, and insects' shriller tick. 
 Enlivening the tree, or bush, or rick, 
 
 Should pass beyond our sighs, and heart's alas! 
 
 Wave, Goldeh-Eod, thy scentless saffron plumes 
 
 In token of our sorrow and regret; 
 And in a spirit urn our favorite blooms 
 
 And essences that cold can never fret : 
 Yea, all of earth that wooed the eyes and ears 
 Shall claim the homage of our loving tears! 
 
 September vanquished, followed by a crowd 
 Of malcontents to make the heart complain. 
 Summer was dead and plucked her fat domain, 
 
 With bare enough of flowers for pall and shroud; 
 
96 A CANARY. 
 
 The sky was crammed with many a brazen cloud, 
 Impatient to volley its swirls of rain ; 
 And winds, once soft, now blew in wild disdain 
 
 Of nature's beaten army, stripped and cowed. 
 
 And lorn October, steadfast to the last, 
 
 Her kingdom rent, her garments drenched and sere, 
 With an imperious temper, like crazed Lear, 
 
 Defies the leaf-flecked tumult of the blast. 
 And gathers all the fruitage ere 'tis lost, 
 Despite the cuffs of snow and goads of frost ! 
 
 A CANAET. 
 
 Oh, yellow-mantled, alien bird ! 
 
 With thy rich vein of trills. 
 
 Oh, soother of my cares and ills, 
 I yearn for one sweet word, 
 
 Or fine melodious phrase, 
 
 To voice my praise ! 
 
 I see thee blithely swinging 
 In a narrow cell of wire 
 (An exile worthy of a tear); 
 
 Yet madly, gladly singing. 
 
A CANARY. 
 
 97 
 
 As if thou wert upon a tree : 
 Tby raptures told or set to melody. 
 Sing, bird without a peer, 
 And know thy rank, — the master of the choir! 
 
 Stay! listen to his jocund song: 
 What a ripple of notes 
 Is poured from the sleekest of throats, 
 So sweet and strong! 
 Like a runnel's limpid sparkle and gush. 
 
 His gladness is confest; 
 And now as sudden a hush, 
 
 And settled wings and beating breast. 
 And brilliant peering eyes. 
 Attest surprise 
 At his own faultless bursts of joy, 
 
 And skyey range, 
 Like bab}^ with a fresh-brought toy, 
 Halted between delight and fright because 'tis strange. 
 
98 THE HELIOTROPE. 
 
 THE HELIOTROPE. 
 
 WANNisH purpling Heliotrope, 
 
 For whom 
 Upon this greening slope 
 Is hoarded all this bland perfume? 
 
 There is no streamlet coursing near 
 To claim its healthy lisp of cheer; 
 Nor prickly bush nor knotty tree 
 Dare say its sweetness is for me ; 
 And th' hurly-burly of the breeze, 
 Like Peter's saviour, only frees 
 Its fine, elusive, quickening powers, 
 To lull the pangs of scentless flowers. 
 
 It seems to me the essence fine 
 Of May's delicious, harmless wine ; 
 Now freely, kindly, wholly spent 
 For Flora's blessed sacrament. 
 And while I drink its odors rare, 
 
 1 ask what message it may bear. 
 
A SEA-SIDE VIEW. 99 
 
 Its answer is a heavenly plea 
 Against the world's idolatry : 
 
 The worship of the golden calf. 
 It is rebuke, in modest guise, 
 That spikes the sceptic's batteries. 
 
 And flings its banner from his staff. 
 It is an answered, hallowed prayei'. 
 That Man shall crush the imp Despair; 
 That tho' his ideals mount the sky 
 Shall know fulfilment by and by ! 
 
 O amethystine Heliotrope, 
 
 Thy stars divulge a horoscope 
 
 More precious to our ardentcies 
 
 Than e'er was scanned by Seni's eyes; 
 
 Thy perfume is to conscious things 
 
 More sweet than Ponce's mythic springs ! 
 
 A SEA-SIDE VIEW. 
 
 For days the sea had shown a gradual swell, 
 Its health and bearing equable and meek, 
 And kind its gi-eeting ; when a savage freak 
 
 Of northeast temper dipt the seeming spell 
 
100 AFTER THE RAIN. 
 
 And spurred its calmness to a very hell 
 
 Of fiercest rage, that, human-like, would wreak 
 Eash vengeance on the innocent and weak, 
 
 And show a havoc beyond parallel ! 
 
 Its mellow voice becomes a thunderous roar; 
 
 •Its immense arms and fists, omnipotent 
 
 As storied T^^phon's, are lifted to strike 
 
 Its nearest victim ; yea, to scoop the shore 
 
 In mammoth hollows ; and the impediment 
 
 Of masonry, or bluff, or reef, or dyke 
 
 But wider makes this white-maned Centaur's path, 
 
 And desolation chuckles o'er his wrath ! 
 
 AFTEE THE EAIN. 
 
 After the rain, when sunshine feeds 
 
 The youthful flock of April's see, — 
 
 The nurslings of the brakes and banks, — 
 
 A puff of praise, a lisp of thanks, 
 
 Will pass from every bush and tree. 
 
 Led by the robin's melody ; 
 
 The flowers, with all their freaks and pranks, 
 
 Above the nodding clover ranks, 
 
THE RIFLED GARDEN. 101 
 
 Will ring their bells in fealty. 
 The grasses tell their crystal beads 
 Beside the thankless gypsy weeds, 
 For worship's priceless offering. 
 
 Mute censors of our wrangling creeds, 
 We need your just adraoilishing ; 
 And hope your winning unison. 
 So audible now, may give us grace 
 To press forward till the goal is won ; 
 And trust that on our altar-place 
 The high resolve and pure desire 
 May burn like tulip's heart of fire ! 
 
 THE EIFLBD GAEDBN. 
 
 The garden has lost its vivid colors and redolent 
 
 tone. 
 And I seek my summer fellows, but I saunter on 
 
 alone. 
 
 Where the boscage was the greenest, there the hum- 
 ming tribes are mute, 
 
 And the loudest goads of silence are the falling nuts 
 and fruit. 
 
102 THE RIFLED GARDEN. 
 
 And the orchard's late ripe tributes show the north's 
 
 congealing breath, 
 And the woodland's richest foliage wears the russet 
 
 hues of death. 
 
 The cricket from a tuft of grass, from fields the twit- 
 tering swallow. 
 
 Bewail the grandeur of summer gone, that autumn 
 is sure to follow. 
 
 While I loitered 'neath a maple or a richer-plumaged 
 
 pine, 
 A rich ray of parting sunshine seemed to kiss this 
 
 dirge of mine. 
 
 Then a troop of fancies caught me, overpowering 
 
 will and sense: 
 Beautiful as Patmos visions, sweeter-tongued than 
 
 Eloquence ! 
 
 And these vanquish time's assaults, the vagaries of 
 
 care and pain. 
 And when winter blares its coming, they will flute 
 
 a summer strain. 
 
AUGUST. 103 
 
 AUGUST. 
 
 Adieu, July ! thy bronze-cheeked sister, bland 
 And fervent-natured, from a lily drinks 
 Our health ; and see her, through the scented chinks 
 Of honeysuckle, waving in her hand 
 A stalk of gladiolus for a wand 
 To conjure with ; and on each full bud's head 
 Is clapt a cap of blue or white or red, — 
 Yes, red more fiery than a flaming brand ! 
 
 Kich colorist of our little garden close ! 
 
 We thank you for this guerdon, yet would ask 
 A boon for all these burred and tasselled rows 
 
 And way-side waifs; and end thy blessed task 
 By swelling full each lush and pulpy thing 
 With finer pith, for autumn's gathering. 
 
lOi THE WATERMELON! 
 
 THE WATEEMELON! 
 
 O Ceres' nursling, from the hot-breathed East! 
 Though big and graceless in thy dark-green coat 
 As thy buff-trousered brother, come and spice, 
 This smothering August day, our fruited feast, 
 As thou hast done for many a king and priest 
 In other times ; and cool the parched throat, 
 The palate please, with many a ripe slice. 
 With all its juicy wholesomeness increased. 
 
 Ay, alien sweetness, we are glad to find 
 Such frosted, sugared, lushy red and pink 
 
 Eefreshment, cinctured by a homely rind; 
 Oh, be to-day our summer meat and drink ! 
 
 For pulp like this is bread, the juice is wine, 
 
 To quench a famishing more keen than mine. 
 
ASBURY PARK. 105 
 
 A SUNSET. 
 
 The Rubens of the welkin has delayed 
 
 The tumbled clouds, to paint his nimbus there, — 
 
 A gorgeous ensign coloring all the air, — 
 
 Of pink and red in ever}^ tint and shade, 
 
 And turquoise blue superbly overlaid 
 
 With wan vermilion ; then a reckless gush 
 
 Of crimson, striped with saffron from his brush, 
 
 And this all streaked, and laced with j^ellow braid 
 
 Oh, what a peerless picture, we avow ! 
 
 As down the sky his golden-timbered barque, 
 With purple yards full bent, and golden prow 
 
 Set westward, sails, and leaves us in the dark ; 
 But, on the walls in memory's picture-show, 
 'Twill find a space and wear its natal glow ! 
 
 ASBURY PARK. 
 
 Toward the east the spaces were impearled, 
 A silver bridge from this bare strip of beach 
 Was laid, beyond the eye's remotest reach ; 
 
 And near, the anchored yacht, with sails unfurled. 
 
106 LIFE. 
 
 Undulated; the ocean swelled and hurled, 
 And carried back its salted treasure-trove ; 
 And in the west, the storm, like legended Jove, 
 
 Enflashed its sudden choler o'er the world. 
 
 Yet, best of all, the smile of happy faces, 
 The merry, social chat of youthful groups 
 Upon the sand, or by the lake or park ; 
 While earth reposed in summer's hot embraces, 
 Nor saw the warning flash across the dark, 
 Nor heard the billows' still-recurring shocks 
 Storming the shore, like files of frightless troops ; 
 Nor felt the breeze that fluffed her moistened locks ; 
 But dozed and dreamed of peace, like selfless Love, 
 Ere she bad quit her Paradise above ! 
 
 LIFE. 
 
 I HAD not fancied this was life : 
 
 A hard, fierce, endless, truceless fight 
 
 Of love and truth 'gainst wrong and might: 
 
 An army shorn of flag or fife. 
 
 Yet war, " war to the knife," 
 
 The battle-cry, if we but hear aright! 
 
A VISION. 107 
 
 A YISION. 
 
 I WROUGHT a simple picture when the day 
 
 Was printing on earth's brow its farewell kiss, 
 
 And fancied each far-darting, fiery ray 
 The gush of overflow from realms of bliss! 
 
 Methought the airs that floated thro' the trees 
 
 Brought only on their wings the balm of healing; 
 That each tall flower, along the bushy leas, 
 
 Hued tales of joy, their pleasure not concealing; 
 That all the grasses inclined by the breeze. 
 
 Through which the lucid current crept a-stealing. 
 Were countless messengers of Hope's decrees ; 
 
 That moon and steadfast stars were still revealing 
 Their mysteries and cheer, the earth to please; 
 
 And that the season sent a flood of feeling. 
 So tranquil to this tent and seat of ease. 
 
 That my tired head bowed low ; awe-struck and 
 kneeling, 
 I murmux-ed, " This vast globe, so full of blight 
 And pain, is yet the dwelling of delight!" 
 
108 A BROKEN HEART. 
 
 A WISH. 
 
 O WIND, now blow the clouds more wide apart, 
 
 And let the Prince of Light have amplest sway, 
 That his resplendent looks may warmly dart 
 
 Athwart the highway of retreating Day! 
 Behold ! the smile is sped beyond my sight, 
 
 With mind-like swiftness, thro' the filmy air. 
 And braids with gold the dusky train of Night! 
 
 And all the dimning prospect shows more fair. 
 Yes, the solveless riddle of grass and trees. 
 
 And plants and flowers, and streamlets pearled be- 
 tween. 
 Is steeped in colors; and, by slow degrees, 
 
 My fancy wins the deep peace of the scene. 
 
 A BEOKBN HEAET. 
 
 Dearest! would you care 
 If these tears. 
 This torn bosom, trembling form. 
 Typed despair? 
 
A BROKEN HEART. 109 
 
 Though the word, forsaken, 
 Jar my ears, 
 My true love shall brave the storm, 
 And unshaken ! 
 
 All my wealth of smiles 
 Still is yours. 
 Kisses, too, that speed the feet 
 Life's drear miles. 
 Hand-clasps, words of cheer. 
 And heart-cures, — 
 These are yours, to make more sweet, 
 And more dear ! 
 
 Are these meet for scorn ? 
 Answer, No! 
 For a yes would haunt me ever, 
 On and on. 
 Grant me one kind word. 
 Ere the blow 
 Widely parts our hearts forever, 
 Though unheard ! 
 
 Good-by ! Though the while 
 My pierced heart. 
 How it beateth, yet is pleading 
 For one smile! 
 
110 A THOUGHT. 
 
 Clasp me once again, 
 Ere we part ; 
 Yet for me the constant bleeding 
 And the pain. 
 
 Oh ! to bear this life, 
 And conceal, 
 While the thought cuts deep and deeper 
 Like a knife. 
 I will shut the scroll, 
 Set the seal. 
 Come now. Death, the body's reaper, 
 Free my soul! 
 
 A THOUGHT. 
 
 What a gift the song of the rhymer 
 And the thought of the sage ! 
 But to stand in front of an age 
 
 And feel its rage, 
 To know its need and repeat it, 
 To stem its foe and defeat it; 
 
 To win a soul 
 
INGRATITUDE. ni 
 
 From vice or folly's revel ; 
 
 To set its goal 
 Beyond the present's common level, 
 In spite of cynic, fool, or devil, — 
 
 These are sublimer! 
 
 INGRATITUDE. 
 
 One night a genteel vagabond 
 Looked in and begged for aid, 
 
 And no one seeming to respond, 
 The louder knocked and prayed,- 
 
 " Admit a homeless wanderer. 
 This rain-drenched, w^indy night: 
 
 My dress and haggard mien aver 
 My hopeless, wretched plight." 
 
 The boon is given : doffing hat 
 And mumbling thanks, he stood 
 
 Beside the cheerful grate ; then sat 
 And blest and ate the food. 
 
112 ''HOME, HOME, SWEET HOME!'' 
 
 Across, a pretty four-year girl 
 Lolled and kept her chair; 
 
 Her rounded face and dangling curl 
 Provoked his lustful stare. 
 
 Hunger and thirst at length appeased, 
 
 His eyes sought her again : 
 The child's rare beauty more than pleased, 
 
 It stirred his heart of Cain ! 
 
 By some mishap, this ruthless I'ough 
 
 Was left with her alone : 
 Eaiment and bread were not enough, — 
 
 The pearl must be his own! 
 
 "HOME, HOME, SWEET HOME!" 
 
 The singer sang the song of songs 
 With sweetness more than art ; 
 
 Yet tear-drops glistened in the eyes, 
 While gladness steeped the heart ! 
 
"HOME, HOME, SWEET HOME!'' 113 
 
 "Home, home, sweet homo!" its echoes came 
 
 Upon us with a rush : 
 The roses, listening from an urn, 
 
 Put on a finer flush ; 
 
 The room assumed a superb guise, 
 
 A proud, palatial air, — 
 The old-time rocker in a nook 
 
 Fit for Saint Peter's chair! 
 
 The family portraits, plainly framed, 
 
 Seemed of a royal line : 
 The living ones more fair than they. 
 
 And mother's most benign ! 
 
 And I, a half-taught, blunt-speeched youth, 
 
 Coltish and rough from birth. 
 Touched by this singing, see more clear 
 
 The household's wholesome worth ! 
 
 " Home, home, sweet home !' oh, honeyed words ! 
 
 Without an evil leaven, 
 To our full hearts thy virgin phrase 
 
 I« the full name of Heaven ! 
 
114 REJOICE TO-DAY, YE MEN OF LITTLE FAITH! 
 
 EEJOICE TO-DAY, YE MEN OF 
 LITTLE FAITH! 
 
 Eejoice to-daj^, ye men of little faith ! 
 And be of cheer, dejected sons of toil ! 
 Our Father, true as ever, brims the soil 
 And ends with fairest prospects the tried path. 
 Haunted with sorrow and misfortune's wraith ; 
 And nature holds in bond her wine and oil, 
 Despite the rascals, deeming earth their spoil. 
 And envying all that thrifty labor hath. 
 
 Let the untaught be schooled, nor play the fool, 
 And greed and malice feel the rein and spur: 
 
 Then comes the golden age, the golden rule. 
 Of converse sweet as fi-ankincense and myrrh ; 
 
 And see, as fuller shines truth's quenchless brand. 
 
 That love and goodness flow from God's right hand! 
 
THE DAY IS GONE. 115 
 
 THE DAY IS GONE. 
 
 The Day, with all her festive family 
 Of hours, has quit her terrene residence, 
 And left unsoiled, unmoved, its opulence 
 Of jewel, statue, painting, drapery. 
 Banquet and game, and show and jubilee; 
 But wrote and carried off a record hence 
 Of mortal dreams and hopes and dire events, 
 To map the trend of human destiny. 
 
 And Father Time, with errless aim unspent. 
 Blots out the error and ti'anscribes the good. 
 
 Knowing that Eight is still omnipotent; 
 
 That Love must reign, and Truth be understood ; 
 
 But sets among the instruments of use 
 
 The probe and caustic for the new abuse. 
 
116 SYMPATHY. 
 
 SYMPATHY. 
 
 If thou wouldst leai*n thy brother's woe, 
 Unbare thy shoulders to the blow ! 
 
 Or press the needed bread and wine 
 First to his lips, prepared for thine! 
 
 Wouldst know the pains of such deep scars? 
 Tread on the white, thrice-heated bars ! 
 
 Wouldst save his soul from sin and vice ? 
 Prepare thyself for sacrifice, — 
 
 Thy time and talents, heartful dower, 
 And all that gives thee fame and power. 
 
 These are the gifts, the things unpriced, 
 Hallowed and blest, and used by Christ! 
 
A THANKSGIVING. 117 
 
 A PASSING THOUGHT. 
 
 Life's sweetest emotion was never expressed, 
 Nor outspoken the secret of pain ; 
 
 Tlie eloquent throbbing is shut in the breast, 
 And the glorious vision is celled in the brain. 
 
 Yea, mould and darkness the end would seem, 
 If thought and endeavor knew not this, — 
 
 That however regal the idealist's dream, 
 'Tis only a symbol of future bliss! 
 
 A THANKSGIYING. 
 
 To G-od let every creature say, — 
 I praise Thee, this Thanksgiving Day, 
 For temporal gain and future good. 
 For shelter, raiment, warmth, and food; 
 
 For kindness used amid turmoil ; 
 For patience born of life-long toil ; 
 For upright thought and self-control, 
 Balanced on conscience and J,he soul. 
 
118 A THANKSGIVING. 
 
 Foi" strength and firmness in the right ; 
 
 For fi-eedom barring lawless might ; 
 
 For every gift to toil and art 
 
 That helped the mind and reached the heart. 
 
 For curative balm and discipline 
 That lulled the fret and curbed the sin ; 
 For friends and kindred kindly spared ; 
 For peace and gladness known and shared. 
 
 For promptings of the still, small voice 
 That bade our drooping hearts rejoice; 
 For trust that would not heed denial; 
 For grace that braced the soul in trial. 
 
 For hope, without which life were dross ; 
 For love that sanctified our loss, — 
 For these, dear Lord, our lips respond, 
 And own the mystic, conscious bond! 
 
 Brins: fruitao-e from the season's hoard 
 To deck the festal, social board, 
 And, seated, ask our Christ the Priest 
 To bless and sanctify the feast. 
 
 Yea, bring to each the spirit thrill 
 That hints His, love is with us still ; 
 
JOHN B. GOUGH. 119 
 
 To feel, however pass the hours, 
 A goodly heritage is ours ! 
 
 Our mother's God, to whom belong, 
 By right supreme, both pi-ayer and song, 
 Despite our selfish woi'ds and fears. 
 Go with us through remaining years. 
 
 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 I SAT, a charmed hearer, in the throng 
 
 That smiled or melted at his eloquence: 
 
 Now light with humor, pungent to the sense, 
 
 Or sweet with pathos, touching as a song; 
 
 Or, warming to the theme, his soul intense 
 
 Let loose upon the flinching backs of wrong 
 
 And callid vice the swift, satiric thong; 
 
 Yet, with his speech, steadfast benevolence 
 
 And Christian sympathy went arm in arm. 
 
 Through prison glooms and pest-haunts of the poor, 
 
 To save the wretch from worse than demon's charm : 
 
 For he had fallen and knew the only cure; 
 
 Yea, bravely worked where he was needed most, 
 
 And death surprised him, armed and at his post! 
 
120 WORK. 
 
 WORK. 
 
 Work is the guardian of our lives : 
 Alone through her the good survives. 
 
 The genius of the schools of art, — 
 The Queen Dido of every mart. 
 
 The patroness of every craft 
 
 That delves the glebe or carves the shaft. 
 
 She found man in the cave of naught, 
 And clothed his naked flesh and thought. 
 
 And sowed the field, and reared the dome. 
 And changed his cavern to a home! 
 
 And pointing upward to the height 
 Where Wisdom is enthi'oned in light, 
 
 Says, " Go and win the right to sit 
 Beside her chair; the mire and pit 
 
 " Of vice and sin are under ban, 
 
 And should not clog or stop the man !" 
 
 And we, who love and bless her name, 
 Proclaim her Mother of all Fame! 
 
CITV SIGHTS. 121 
 
 CITY SIGHTS. 
 
 In the east, immolates with a thousand arrows 
 
 The morning, the clouds, and humid air. 
 And Dian her silvery radiance narrows. 
 
 And the earth reflects her wordless prayer ; 
 Then the chatter and whir of the quarrelling spar- 
 rows, — 
 
 Alert and bold and wary of snare, — 
 On the watch for a meal 'mid the cars and barrows, 
 
 Then away to a haunt in the square. 
 
 Then the steps of the worker and artisan, 
 
 On to toil ere the passage is plain, 
 Whose dominion is girt with a structure's span. 
 
 With its struggle and trial and strain; 
 Tho' the body is bent o'er the puzzling plan, 
 
 Which increases its weakness and pain. 
 Yet surely is fashioned the future of man 
 
 By each action of muscle and brain. 
 
 Then the boy and the girl enliven the masses, 
 
 So early to feel life's discipline ; 
 Some, faithful to duty, will honor the classes, 
 
 And alas! others sink with the sin. 
 
122 A CITY WAIF. 
 
 The brave will see gardens instead of morasses; 
 
 Others death at the end of the din : 
 Some die of the toil in the depths of the passes, 
 
 But God's proclamation is, — they win ! 
 
 A CITY WAIF. 
 
 Only an abandoned woman, 
 
 Lost to home and friends and fame ; 
 Eeft of love that souls the human, 
 
 Wrinkled by the hand of shame. 
 
 Only an unnoticed burden, — 
 Once a mother's darling one, — 
 
 And not one sweet smile for guerdon, 
 None to mourn when life is done. 
 
 Marred by blows that sin has dealt her. 
 
 Is there one to cool her lips. 
 Check her hunger, grant her shelter, — 
 
 Nobler yet, forgive her slips ? 
 
 Yes, a maiden strong in kindness 
 Breaks the hold of passion's clutch ; 
 
 Clothes the form and clears the blindness, 
 Gives the conscience moral touch. 
 
THE TRIUMPH OF RIGHT. 123 
 
 And the heart afaint is lifted, 
 
 Rich impulses stirred anew ; 
 From the grain the chaff is sifted, 
 
 That the good may spring to view. 
 
 A new soul is now elected 
 
 To the parliament of love : 
 Pledged to ideas once neglected 
 
 And to deeds God whispers of! 
 
 THE TEIUMPH OF RIGHT. 
 
 'Tis a miserable world, the down-trodden shriek ; 
 
 Life a burden of trouble and pain ; 
 And health scarcely ruddies the lips and the cheek, 
 
 Ere it is taken and tortured and slain. 
 
 Yes, slain to the greed of the merchant oppressor, — 
 The smooth Pizari'o of modern times, — 
 
 Who, posturing to Mammon, his priest and confessor. 
 Is blest and shriven of all his crimes. 
 
 Is Justice now impaled, the strong intercessor? 
 
 Or Truth heart-broken or been deceived? 
 Or doth Right make head, tho' the ignoble press her, 
 
 All robed in the fame she has achieved ? 
 
124 QUERIES AND ANSWERS. 
 
 Is Love and Hope and Mercy incai'cerated, 
 Too ill and famished to brealc the bars ? 
 
 And Freedom, the loved one, the heavenly-mated, 
 Hath she borne in vain her thousand scars ? 
 
 Ah ! these were ray thoughts in a moment of sadness, 
 Vexed and stung by the evils I saw ; 
 
 1 had forgotten Miriam's timbrel of gladness 
 Was clashed to Eight on the Eed Sea's shore! 
 
 Sing ye, skilled and unskilled children of the Uses, 
 Your trophies shall head Progression's throng: 
 
 Eight endeavor shall foil the buccaneer's ruses, 
 And trumpet the fall and death of Wrong! 
 
 QUEEIES AND ANSWEES. 
 
 One glance of Morning paints the furrowed sea. 
 And sets the inland free. 
 What mystery- ? 
 
 The waves, still roaring, dash the pebbled sands. 
 All held by unseen hands. 
 Who understands? 
 
 The wind outruns the billows' foamy feet, 
 
 And chants a lay more sweet. 
 
 Who can repeat? 
 
FRIENDSHIP'S OFFER. 125 
 
 The glances of Jehovah pierce tbe whole, 
 
 And, stronger, smite the soul. 
 
 He doth control. 
 
 Tbe flood of moments beats its fleshly sides, 
 With joy and grief for tides. 
 His wisdom guides. 
 
 Whetber tbe tones of being touch tbe brain, 
 In ecstasy or pain, 
 
 He heai"8 tbe strain ! 
 
 FEIENDSHIP'S OFFEE. 
 
 Whether tbe morning be replete 
 With nature's simples, fresh and sweet. 
 Or arched with clouds and flecked with sleet, 
 I reach warm hands to thee. 
 
 Whether good fortune freight thy ship, 
 Or envy blare each thoughtless slip, 
 Or sorrow's goblet press thy lip, — 
 I reach warm hands to thee. 
 
 Whether tbe crowd disdain thy name. 
 Or praise it with the tongue of fame, 
 Acknowledging thy justful claim, — 
 I reach warm bands to thee. 
 
126 THE FOURTH OF JULY, 1876. 
 
 Whether thy face be one of beauty, 
 Or the hollow cheeks of cai*e and duty, 
 Too harsh and hard for folly's booty, — 
 I reach warm hands to thee. 
 
 Whether thy form be one of vigor 
 And gracefulness, or frail and meagre. 
 Crippled and drawn by age's rigor, — 
 I reach warm hands to thee. 
 
 Whether thy mind be an Apollo's, 
 Or one that only gropes and follows, 
 With ej'es in mists and feet in hollows, — 
 I reach warm hands to thee. 
 
 And when our souls have voyaged death's river, 
 And stand on shores of the forever, 
 To wear the palm and praise the Giver, — 
 I'll reach warm hands to thee. 
 
 THE FOUETH OF JULY, 187 6. 
 
 Hail, Sovereign Day, that heard the voice 
 Of Freedom sing the nation's birth. 
 On this small plot of hallowed earth, 
 
 We bless thy rising and rejoice ! 
 
THE FOURTH OF JULY, 1876. 127 
 
 We swell our century jubilee: 
 
 The nation's march and grand increase, 
 The hurtless victories of peace, 
 
 The vaster glories yet to be ! 
 
 To-day great Peace sojourns with us. 
 And bids us search our mighty claims, 
 Our social traits, and ethic aims, 
 
 And more, to fill the stimulus 
 
 Bestowed by cultured energies : 
 
 The gifts of Art almost divine; 
 
 The Midas heaps of well and mine ; 
 The helpful tools and engineries; 
 
 The loom's rich silk and fleecy bales ; 
 
 The tributes of the plough and spade ; 
 
 And every fine and costly aid 
 That mans stout Traffic's willing sails. 
 
 And these write welcome o'er the bars 
 And bulwarks of our righteous laws ; 
 And aliens wed to Freedom's cause 
 
 Find safety 'neath the stripes and stars. 
 
 And 'mid the fife and bugle's blast. 
 The pageantries and martial dins. 
 An age of truth and right begins. 
 
 With gi-ander hopes than all the past. 
 
128 A POET'S DEATH. 
 
 And far beyond this bannered park, 
 
 These shouting hosts and booming guns, 
 The burst and blaze of stars and suns, 
 
 Progress has set her onward mark ! 
 
 And while we reap the teeming sod, 
 And deck our peace-endowed abodes. 
 May we affirm the spirit codes, — 
 
 The hiffher laws that come from God ! 
 
 A POET'S DEATH. 
 
 " Perhaps I'll sing my song to-day," 
 
 A stricken poet sung; 
 But ere the world could praise her lay, 
 
 Death tripped her tuneful tongue. 
 
 And now the song, since grown intense 
 With life and beauty, pleads' 
 
 Before a juster audience, 
 And wins the meed of meeds ! 
 
A COMPARISON. 129 
 
 A COMPAEISON. 
 
 I SAW a mountain cloud hang motionless, — 
 
 A vapory splendor of fantastic mould, — 
 
 Its white and wedge-like peaks were flushed with 
 
 gold; 
 And midway down, a crimson loveliness 
 "Was finel}^ traced upon its silvery dress; 
 But at the base, each vale and ridge and wold 
 Was wrapt in dismal blackness, fold on fold. 
 And then, methought, youth, fame, and happiness 
 Were like the gilded summits of that cloud; 
 Ay, placed on heights above our path of life ; 
 And we, the weak, the fair, the gay, the proud, — 
 Their fond adorers in this den of strife, — 
 Can only catch a glimpse of their fair forms. 
 E'en while each peerless shape of beauty wins 
 Our hearts, lo, evil flits with its tormenting swarms 
 To sting, and life releases all its dins. 
 
130 THE SEA AND SKY. 
 
 AT DAY'S DECLINE. 
 
 The day declines apace, the shadows fall ; 
 
 The distant river wears a bluer mist 
 Against the dun background of forest wall; 
 
 The clouds are prisoned in the breeze's fist ; 
 The birds conclude their merry festival ; 
 
 The moon and stars encrust the amethyst 
 And bind our senses in a golden thrall ; — 
 
 Yet, what are these, when some dear heart is missed, 
 When the beloved is be3'pnd recall ; 
 
 When the dear form we fondled, clasped, and kissed 
 Is gone, it is a loss that saddens all ! 
 
 Then lonely is the walk and shaded tryst. 
 
 THE SEA AND SKY. 
 
 At eve, the wayward sea, 
 As if through very envy of the land, 
 
 Did rush in wildest glee. 
 With wave on wave, upon the shrinking sand; 
 
 Yet there it ceased to roam, 
 And wasted all its wondrous strength in foam. 
 
A SABBATH'S END. 131 
 
 I tui-n'ed from that fierce sight 
 And saw great nature's genius, as of old, 
 
 Unveil a realm of light 
 In the far west, one vast expanse of gold ! 
 
 And to the fancy's eye 
 Perpetual summer ruled both earth and sky. 
 
 One metaphor of life : 
 Its marvellous displays of force and speed ; 
 
 Its toils and cares and strife ; 
 Its frothy speech for pith of noble deed ; 
 
 And its sublimest wave, 
 Only dashing on time's strand to find a grave ! 
 
 The other type of rest 
 And of that new Jerusalem to be ! 
 
 Where Love indeed is guest, 
 And angels hymn of immortality : 
 
 Where Heaven mirrors of 
 Our God, His crown, and throne, and deeds of love. 
 
 A SABBATH'S END. 
 
 The sweet hymn ceased, and in the room 
 The pathos of the pure, rich strain 
 Appeared to kindle once again. 
 
 Like sudden sunshine after gloom. 
 
132 A SABBATH'S END. 
 
 Or like a heavenly solace sent 
 To silence each discordant thing ; 
 Or like great David's fingering 
 
 Of peace's song-stringed instrument. 
 
 It tingled the octaves of the soul 
 And they outswelled a new refrain, 
 Of loftiest aim of heart and brain, 
 
 Of speedier progi-ess to the goal. 
 
 Of blood revitalized more strong 
 And timed to pulse of use and life ; 
 Of hands that have abandoned strife, 
 
 To aid the poor and toil-worn throng. 
 
 Of clearer eyes to see the wrong ; 
 
 Also the good and use of man ; 
 
 Of ears to hear the cosmic Plan 
 Announced each day in nature's song. 
 
 Of voice in tune to swell a note 
 Of the on-going praise to God ; 
 The praise that rises from the sod, 
 
 And hurries on from mote to mote ! 
 
 Nor can the jars and sounds that leaven 
 The strange, mad tumults of the street 
 Come near, when God and mortal meet 
 
 Upon the stall's which wind to Heaven! 
 
A WORK-DAY'S CLOSE. I33 
 
 A WOEK-DAY'S CLOSE. 
 
 The music was Yon Suppe's " Poet, and Peasant," 
 And it is always present ! 
 
 Again the organ peals each subtle note, 
 Not loud, nor harsh, nor overmuch 
 (Our sister's feathery touch 
 
 Had charmed its mental throat), 
 To stamp uj^on the willing brain 
 The spirit of the strain, 
 
 And draw within the pale of music's art 
 
 The fascinated heart. 
 And its harmonic rise and swell 
 
 And dream-like cadences, 
 Were like a crystal draught from pleasure's well, 
 
 "Without its bitter lees. 
 
 Surfeitless treat of honeyed sounds, 
 
 Forerunners of the songs to be! 
 You come like angel voices 
 To hush life's base and cloying noises. 
 
 Whose only bounds 
 
 Are the limitless limits of Memory ! 
 
134 THE MAD LOVER. 
 
 THEMADLOVER 
 
 His home and shelter is a cell, 
 
 His constant guests the pangs of hell; 
 
 An unkempt head and bearded face, 
 Without one sign of manly grace; 
 
 And awkward arms and hands are shown, 
 And finger-nails to talons grown ! 
 
 An uncouth shape, to say the least. 
 
 That growls and glares like maddened beast ! 
 
 What power had brought him to this lair, 
 And stamped his features with despair? 
 
 Ah ! in his heart a thoughtless jilt 
 Had thrust her dagger to the hilt ! 
 
 And plunged so deeply, that the pain 
 Shot upwards and destroyed the brain, 
 
 And left behind a body bowed, 
 Whose robe of peace will be a shroud! 
 
A PRAYER. 135 
 
 Yes, left a form to struggle on, 
 With love and hope and reason gone, 
 
 Till Death, in pity, broke the thrall, 
 And made his anguish known to all. 
 
 A PEA YE E. 
 
 Heavenly Father, on Thy throne. 
 Near me whilst I inly groan, 
 Nearest when I am alone. 
 Lull my aching head and breast. 
 And accede to my request, — 
 " Grant me rest." 
 
 I am but a publican. 
 Hurt in heart by passion's ban 
 And the caste of wealth and clan ; 
 All my failures are confest 
 To the one who knows me best, — 
 " Grant me rest." 
 
 Thought is slow to learn Thy skill; 
 Hands more slow to work Thy will; 
 Yet I know Thou wilt fulfil 
 
136 A CHRISTIAN S DEATH. 
 
 All I quit, when vext and prest,— 
 Thou art goodness manifest, — 
 " Grant me rest." 
 
 Only rest the flesh desires, 
 And the brain, tho' it aspires; 
 Thine OAvn rest the soul requires. 
 When of all things else possest, — 
 Ah ! when of all things bereft, 
 " Grant it rest.'' 
 
 A CHEISTIAN'S DEATH. 
 
 That Sabbath day was one of heavenly peace, 
 A heavenly beauty rained down from the skies, 
 
 A token of God's love, — may it increase, — 
 
 Or else the world was seen with clearer eyes; 
 
 The fresh-blued ocean laved the shadeless sand 
 
 In softer tones, charmed by an unseen wand. 
 
 The northwest stirred the waves and bland sea air. 
 And reinspired the pine-tree's balsamed breath; 
 
 And Summer, Heaven's aspirant, looked so fair, 
 There seemed no room for strife, or grief, or death ; 
 
 Yet, one whose step is lighter than the foam 
 
 Tarried to bear a patient spirit home. 
 
A CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. 137 
 
 Within a room which hushed the ocean's roar, 
 And caught the sun to dull its painful glare, 
 
 A dying Christian mother lay, no more 
 To feel the pangs of grim disease or care; 
 
 But heavenly aspirations filled their place. 
 
 And smiles of saintly triumj^h lit her face; 
 
 And round her pillow prest each weeping one; 
 
 But she, through opened window, saw good-by 
 Writ in the j'ellow letters of the sun. 
 
 And murmui-ed. "Ere yon light forsakes the sky, 
 My soul will try its wings across the sea 
 Whose waters touch my feet to set me free ; 
 
 ''And nearer press the sainted gone before, 
 
 Crowned with the crown like that which shall be 
 mine, 
 
 And beckoning me, each face like that of yore, 
 But angel pui-e, haloed with light divine; 
 
 I hear their garments rustle, feel their touch, — 
 
 Farewell, my children, trust in God, and such " 
 
 These last faint words were smothered in her throat. 
 The hands relaxed, the brow and lips grew chill 
 
 Yet, in the dark, hushed i-oom, there seemed to float 
 A mystic voice that whispered of her still! 
 
 A soul was gone, to wealth and fame unknown, 
 
 Yet God, the Lover, claimed her for His own ! 
 
138 A SOLILOqUF. 
 
 THE QUESTIONED SOUL. 
 
 Unfettered Soul ! tell of the years, — 
 How do they pass, what do they bring? 
 
 Come they like ISTiobe, in tears, 
 Or bring they Ceres' harvesting ? 
 
 Bring the}' burdens, losses, grief, 
 Or gifts and titles and domains. 
 
 Or ills that cannot know relief, 
 
 Or thrift and labor's honest gains ? 
 
 Whate'er thej^ bring, may love and hope 
 Eepoise our feeble wills to bear ; 
 
 Then we no more shall blindly grope, 
 But find contentment anywhere ! 
 
 A SOLILOQUY. 
 
 Alone with self, yet not alone. 
 For my prone soul was heard to moan,- 
 Bruised by the goads of sin and strife 
 That ever war on active life. 
 
A SOLILOQUY. 139 
 
 Alone! the very echo's length 
 Provoked the soul's unconquered will 
 To summon all its godlike strength 
 And tell the flesh 'twas sovereign still! 
 
 It seemed the soul, though faint and bowed, 
 Possessed a fount of youth within 
 That purled of rest, whene'er the din 
 And struggle of the day grew loud. 
 
 Perhaps the spheres that just had set 
 Were jewels of an amulet 
 To scare away misfortune's wraith 
 And woo the shining feet of Faith. 
 
 Perhaps it dreamed the morning light 
 (Whose roses flush the Orient) 
 Would ease the pangs of many a slight, 
 And yield supreme encouragement. 
 
 Perchance the flowers upon the slope — 
 Each beryl-hued cymbal, colored bell, 
 And mottled trumpet's sound and smell — 
 Were culminating in a hope ! 
 
 Perhaps it deemed the bulks of fleece, 
 In their huge wains, were shapes of calm; 
 The dew, but lucid eyes of peace. 
 The tropic air, a soothing psalm ! 
 
140 ^ SOLILOqUF. 
 
 Or deemed the bird's shrill song would quell 
 The ghosts that haunt us to the end ; 
 The glad " G-od bless you !" of the friend, 
 More dear than sprigs of asphodel. 
 
 Or else these summer signs of cheer 
 But brought God's benison more near, — 
 The God less loyal to His state 
 Than to a soul disconsolate ! 
 
 The organ emphasized the ballad's strain, 
 
 And lent its music Merlin influence, 
 
 To penetrate the feeling's fleshly fence, 
 
 Into the citadel of joy and pain, — 
 
 Into the great Pantheon of the brain, 
 
 Whose gods are deathless gods of soul and sense; 
 
 Where Memory hives the deeds of excellence. 
 
 And Beauty's visions swell the endless train. 
 
 And when this thrilling strain had entered in. 
 
 The other lords resolve to abdicate, 
 
 And vote her chief commandant of the place ; 
 
 The help of conscience to dislodge the sin. 
 
 And keep out Error storming wall and gate ; 
 
 Eager to rob the mind of peace and grace ; 
 
 But now the weakest entrances are barred, 
 
 And this sweet strain inspires the dauntless guard. 
 
A WINTER SIMILE. Ul 
 
 A VVINTEE SIMILE. 
 
 The air-born snow was flung from Winter's hand, 
 A spotless outcast, between morn and eve ; 
 And silently it wrought a path as grand 
 And wonderful as summer's hand could weave 
 Of grasses, leaves, and flowers. Poor fugitive, 
 Alas! thou hast not many hours to live; 
 Yet comest not to smite, but to relieve 
 The frost-barred seedlings of the famished land. 
 
 Thus Duty comes immaculate to me: 
 
 Sefene and passionless, yet truest friend, — 
 
 A Pythias when want and sorrow blend. 
 
 And strong to demonstrate love's sovereign plea ; 
 
 And shielding Virtue, too, in all its forms. 
 
 Lest both would perish in life's direful storms. 
 
 Wed right to mercy, truth to charity. 
 
 And it shall walk unbaflled to the end. 
 
142 DUTY'S VOICE. 
 
 DUTY'S VOICE. 
 
 The noonday sun, a barren ridge of sand, 
 Lonely as Enoch Arden's island strand, — 
 The tumult and the foam-dust of the. sea, — 
 'Twere all that welcomed me. 
 
 And yet a glorious thrill inflamed my blood, 
 As swiftly as the sunbeams strike the flood, 
 For Duty, the evangel, sought my hand 
 To learn my heart's demand. 
 
 "Art thou despondent looking on the sea? 
 Thou knowest thy will and reason are as free. 
 Oh ! may they choose to do the grandest act, — 
 Mould thought a stainless fact. 
 
 " Then, character shall dazzle like the sun, 
 And gather glory when Sol's goal is won ; 
 And God will show more splendid spheres to man 
 Than sun or ocean span ! 
 
 '• Then, thought shall energize progression's arms 
 To rear the finest domes, the richest farms ; 
 To wield a strength more potent than the sea's, 
 By labor's engineries. 
 
THE CHRISTMAS-TIDE. 143 
 
 "Then, mercy win the heart to bring relief 
 To hungry forms, to hearts impaled by grief; 
 To those that sink beneath affliction's rod, 
 And bring them nigher God. 
 
 " Then, love shall come, the soul's unbounded sun. 
 To celebrate the deeds of kindness done, — 
 The smile, the clasp, the gift of succor given, 
 And bear them up to Heaven. 
 
 "Oh! ma}' thou choose me for thy counsellor, 
 When conscience, thought, and will, and feeling err; 
 And if, as I desire, thou dost receive me, 
 I vow to never leave thee." 
 
 THE CHEIST MAS-TIDE. 
 
 The crj-stal pledge and windy shout 
 
 Announce the date of Christmas pleasures; 
 But our blithe hearts hum summer measures. 
 
 And spai'kle like the white without. 
 
 What care for winter's writ of frost ? 
 When overflow of kindredship, 
 Finds vent in talk and hurtless quip, 
 
 Without one gem of pleasure lost. 
 
144 THE CHRISTMAS-TIDE. 
 
 What care for winter's whirligig? 
 When housemates ring a jubilee, 
 And our young sisters deck the tree 
 
 With pretty favors, branch and twig. 
 
 The tinselled trifle, pied glass ball, 
 
 And mimic flowers and fruits and birds. 
 And gorgeous cards, with sugared words. 
 
 And "Merry Christmas" crowning all! 
 
 The tree is decked ; the gifts are set 
 To trip the earlj^, anxious feet; 
 While all the dropping leaves repeat: 
 
 "Good-will and peace shall triumph yet." 
 
 O tree of life and joy and hope, 
 
 Whose rootlets twine in hearts of clay, 
 Whose fruitage offering is to-day, — 
 
 No richer fell on Eden's slope ! 
 
 And as it falls and we partake, 
 May we forego the daily fret. 
 And every mouthing of regret, — 
 
 The brain its scheme, the heart its ache. 
 
 And while we hold life's cup abrim. 
 May we extend it to the poor 
 Who knock and plead at mercy's door, 
 
 And ask alms in the name of Him ! 
 
THE NEW YEAR. 145 
 
 THE NEW YEAR. 
 
 Between the leafless pine and oak, 
 The chapel's bells' dolorous breath 
 
 Declares bj^ every dirge-like stroke, 
 "The Old Year falls a prey to death." 
 
 And with it many a fond pursuit 
 
 That promised health and rest and cheer; 
 
 Whose only yield was Dead-Sea fruit; 
 
 Whose leaves of hope were long since sere ! 
 
 But hark ! it strikes a joyous peal, 
 
 And lo! the New Year strides in view; 
 
 We welcome it for woe or weal, 
 While to the past we nod adieu. 
 
 10 
 
146 YESTERDA Y. 
 
 CHEISTMAS-TIME. 
 
 The hours wheel on the Christmas-time, 
 The noblest theme for sweetest rhyme ; 
 The day love's cycle was begun, 
 And God and man were shown as one! 
 
 YESTEEDAY. 
 
 I SAW the ghost of Yesterday 
 
 Stand o'er its burial-stone. 
 
 While Time, the mourner, bent and gray, 
 
 Not seeing, seemed to say, 
 '•He sleeps alone." 
 
 He hushed his father's grief, and said, 
 
 " The flesh it perisheth .; 
 But that which is the heart and head, 
 And touch, and tone, and tread, 
 
 Dc'fieth Death! 
 
YESTERDAY. 147 
 
 "The four-and-twenty hours were steeds, 
 By which I ranged all places : — 
 
 I urged the soul that onward speeds, 
 
 I balmed the heart that bleeds, 
 I kissed new faces ! 
 
 "The seeds of good which I have sown 
 Shall hang forth fruit to-morrow ; 
 And where my breath was clearest blown, 
 Health stole the sick man's groan, 
 Joy prisoned sorrow. 
 
 " I met Love ; went with her along 
 
 Through hamlet, field, and mart; 
 
 She said, ' We'll help the harrowed throng, 
 
 And war to right the wrong 
 Before we part.' 
 
 " Truth knew me, called me precious now, 
 And sought my fellowship ; 
 Yes, wrote achievement on my brow, 
 And pressed his secret vow 
 Upon m}^ lip ! 
 
 " I walked between Hope and Despair : 
 One haggard, thin, and wan ; 
 
 The other smiled and sang an air 
 
 So sweet, the troops of care 
 Marched swiftly on ! 
 
148 YESTERDA Y. 
 
 "My constant friends were toil and use, 
 And zeal imbued with right; 
 
 And courage that accej)ts no truce, 
 
 But swords the old abuse, 
 And wins the fight. 
 
 " I live in actions that were wrought 
 To help God's wondrous plan ; 
 And all I sj^ake or did was fraught 
 With His unceasing thought 
 Of beast and man ! 
 
 " When Time's sharp scythe shall cease to mow, 
 
 His hour-glass be forgot ; 
 My brother daj's that sleep below 
 Shall with me rise and know 
 
 A worthier lot!" 
 
 THE END. 
 
yjlJARI OF CONGRESS 
 
 016 256 189 3 ' #1