HENRY RANDOLPH LATIMER, Ph. B, 
 
 f„„9 296 Lll 
 
 910 
 
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(Pir^inia @are 
 
 anb 
 
 Ot^tt (potms 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY RANDOLPH LATIMER, Ph. B. 
 
 BALTIMORE, MD., U. S. Jl. 
 
L;onARY«»fCOr«GRESS 
 
 two Co Dies Received 
 
 SEP 11 190/ 
 
 ^ Cooynfht Bnl 
 
 CLA6Sy4 xxc, 
 COPY a/ 
 
 
 Copyright, 1907, by Henry Randolph Latimer 
 
(Hlg (preceptor 
 
 (JUj fdtf^fuf preceptor, t^te Bftnbneea. 
 Came fortS from (Bob'a Bountifuf Rtnbne^e. 
 I^e ftnowet^ t^e w^^ anb t^e wherefore ; 
 3 ftnon? ^t0 great mercp, an^ therefore 
 ilccept t^e affftctton ae ^ivtn 
 Z'O feab^me t^roug^ fatt^ unto l^eaven. 
 
^tlicaUt to tUJ^Uai (H)omatt 
 
ConkniB 
 
 VIRGINIA DARE OR THE LOST COLONY OF 
 AMERICA 
 
 I. The Adieu 7 
 
 II. The Voyage 8 
 
 III. The Settlement 11 
 
 IV. The Council Fire 14 
 
 V. Croatan 17 
 
 VI. The Attack 20 
 
 VII. Prayer and Answer 25 
 
 THE SOUL'S HIGH DAY 26 
 
 RAINDROPS 27 
 
 OUR GUARDIAN 29 
 
 MILITARY HYMN 30 
 
 AN EPITAPH 32 
 
 MAY .33 
 
 TO ELSIE 34 
 
 GRATITUDE 35 
 
 TO MOTHER 36 
 
 HOPE 38 
 
 MY LADY 40 
 
 KITTENS 41 
 
 MY TEACHER 42 
 
 PROVIDENCE 44 
 
 KING ARTHUR 45 
 
 SORROW 46 
 
 YOU AND I 47 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 LAUNCHING 48 
 
 MY MOTHER 50 
 
 A BIRTHDAY GREETING 52 
 
 YOUNG AMERICA 53 
 
 MY BONNIE BRIDE 56 
 
 A FAIRY 57 
 
 THE THIEF 58 
 
 VIRGINIA FORD 60 
 
 DESIRE 62 
 
 TRANSGRESSION 63 
 
 A STORM AT EVE 66 
 
 LIZA'S LAMENT 67 
 
 A SILVER WEDDING 68 
 
 A DREAM OF WEALTH 70 
 
 DYING EMBERS 72 
 
 ADIEU 73 
 
 [6] 
 
(Pirgtnia ^au, 
 
 or t^t 
 
 Boet Cofon^ of ilmmca 
 
 I 
 
 I OTHER England, farewell; belov'd parent, 
 adieu ! 
 
 O remember thy children, the venturesome few. 
 We are borne o'er the water, fulfilling thy fate; 
 We are leaving our homes to enlarge thy estate ; 
 We will wave the fair ensign of Albion's pride 
 O'er the boundless expanse where the bison roams wide. 
 So, be kind to the dear ones we leave in thy care ; 
 Let thy love bring the solace our presence would bear ; 
 And remember thy children, the venturesome few. 
 Mother England, farewell; belov'd parent, adieu! 
 
 [7] 
 
II 
 
 Z^c (Pogage 
 
 ^^HhE sails were adjusted, the little fleet rode, 
 
 tl^^l Triumphantly bearing its brave little load 
 
 Who brook'd not the thought of a watery grave 
 
 Beneath the Atlantic's tumultuous wave. 
 
 The Sun beam'd his brightest, the Sky swept her blue, 
 
 As gaily the voyagers wav'd their adieu. 
 
 The Sea's mighty bosom rose calmly, and fell; 
 
 There was peace on the billow, and rest in the swell. 
 
 The Wind whisper'd, "Onward! " and lent a firm hand; 
 
 The tiny crafts skimm'd to'rd the far-distant land. 
 
 The Sun quoth, " Behold me, and follow my lead ; 
 
 When I have pass'd on, the mild Moon will succeed. 
 
 I'll see you again on the morrow, perhaps; 
 
 Unless Mother Earth doth assume her gray wraps 
 
 For fear I might captivate some of her brood." 
 
 The sails flapp'd assent, and the vessels pursu'd. 
 
 The Sun disappear'd o'er the glittering deep, 
 
 Dark, diamond-eyed Heaven awoke from her sleep. 
 
 The mirror-like water reflected the stars 
 
 And dangled the shadows of rigging and spars. 
 
 The " Empress of Night," on her silvery steed, 
 
 Rode high in the heaven and pass'd to the lead. 
 
 Beholding the land of America smile. 
 
 She left the fair Danube and beautiful Nile 
 
 [8] 
 
THE VOYAGE 
 
 To foster the love of the Indian horde, 
 
 Whose ignorance deifi'd her as their Lord. 
 
 Elated by praises the Savages gave, 
 
 She sank, in her ecstasy, under the wave; 
 
 But, far to the eastward, awoke the *' Gray Dawn," 
 
 And ruddy Aurora led in the new morn. 
 
 Yet, ere the Sun stooped for his evening bath. 
 
 The seamen saw signs of Dame Nature's wild wrath. 
 
 The atmosphere, calming, grew sultry and hot; 
 
 Pale flashes of light from horizon clouds shot; 
 
 And, ere the Moon rose to illumine the night. 
 
 The Earth drew her veil and the calm took its flight. 
 
 The hurricane bore from the eastward amain — 
 
 The thunder roll'd bass to the treble of rain. 
 
 The wind wove harmonics and howl'd as it swept, 
 
 The sea in its fury the vessel deck leapt. 
 
 The billow roar'd out as the storm drove it by. 
 
 The lightning perpetually tore the dark sky; 
 
 Yet, those little crafts rode the surges down well. 
 
 And bore their brave load from the jaws of a hell. 
 
 Too horrible far for the poet to pen. 
 
 And far too depressing to depict unto men. 
 
 Avoiding each other, yet keeping in sight. 
 
 They wrestled the storm through that long, weary night. 
 
 The veil was withdrawn from Aurora's clear brow, 
 
 Whose beauty was ne'er more entrancing than now. 
 
 The weather was fair, and the sailors were true; 
 
 The tiny barks skipp'd o'er the treacherous blue — 
 
 [9] 
 
THE VOYAGE 
 
 On, hopefully, gaily, by day and by night, 
 
 All hailing the vessel transporting John White — 
 
 John White, belov'd leader of this daring band. 
 
 And first English ruler o'er Occident land. 
 
 At last, their brave hearts bounded high with delight 
 
 As, far to the westward, land loom'd within sight, 
 
 And rapidly ran to the eastward to meet 
 
 The sea-weary eyes of that stout little fleet. 
 
 Sincere were the thanks unto Heaven outpour'd; 
 
 And, skirting the coast to the northward, they moor'd. 
 
 [10] 
 
m 
 
 III 
 
 HE ring of axes fill'd the isle; 
 
 The artist hand touched Roanoke; 
 Hut after hut, in quaint old style, 
 The settler's honest toil bespoke. 
 
 The dovetail'd wall of new hewn log. 
 The earthen roof, and leaf-spread floor, 
 
 Though now deem'd scant abode for dog, 
 Then untold charm for settler bore. 
 
 The rustic town of Raleigh rose 
 Beside the mighty, restless sea, 
 
 Whose breakers spent their angry blows 
 Unheeded by the brave and free. 
 
 The children play'd upon the sand 
 And skimm'd the pebble o'er the tide; 
 
 Forsooth, this is a goodly land. 
 
 And here shall Britain's ensign ride. 
 
 Each sunset bade the weary rest, 
 And slumber stole his care away; 
 
 The dawn awoke in ev'ry breast 
 The heart to toil another day. 
 
 [II] 
 
THE SETTLEMENT 
 
 While reverence for the August sun 
 Forbade the axman's manly stroke, 
 
 A stranger came, a little one, 
 " Virginia Dare of Roanoke." 
 
 First offspring born of Saxon clay 
 Beyond the ocean's mighty span, 
 
 The idol of her town she lay. 
 The jewel of her ancient clan. 
 
 The nut-brown lads from two to ten 
 Began to woo the chubby maid, 
 
 And talk'd of knightly deeds, as men. 
 They'd do beneath the forest shade. 
 
 Nor dreamt they, at that very time, 
 The Red Man of the sombre wood 
 
 Was meditating deadly crime. 
 
 And thirsted for their guileless blood. 
 
 In course of time, the settlers fear'd 
 Gaunt Famine would patrol their town 
 
 So, bade John White the sea-lion beard 
 And face the Tempest's awful frown. 
 
 This father, grandsire, ruler, sage, 
 Despite the perils of the sea. 
 
 Despite the ills of waning age. 
 Set sail without one selfish plea. 
 
 [12] 
 
THE SETTLEMENT 
 
 He deeply fear'd a dearth of food, 
 And so conform'd to their request; 
 
 But well he saw nor lik'd the mood 
 
 Which lurk'd within the Savage breast. 
 
 His lov'd ones lingered on the sand, 
 And wav'd him fond, prolong'd adieu; 
 
 The sea roU'd wide twixt fleet and strand, 
 And, rising, hid the sails from view. 
 
 The dusky " Lord of Roanoke," 
 In silence saw the sad farewell, 
 
 Frown'd on the seaward-gazing folk, 
 And felt his faithless bosom swell. 
 
 The settler turn'd him to his work. 
 But sadness bore the spirit down ; 
 
 A dire foreboding seem'd to lurk 
 Within the bosom of the town. 
 
 Virginia's sire, the bold young Dare, 
 Withdrew his musket from the wall, 
 
 Adjusted it with hunter's care. 
 
 And, kneeling, breath'd a prayV for all. 
 
 [13] 
 
IV 
 
 ZU touncii five 
 
 ^^^8 HE wigwam circled wide the fire; 
 [g^j^l The ruddy flame, with dancing smile, 
 Close clasp'd the log in warm embrace. 
 Coquetting, sparkling, leaping high'r. 
 Till beauty crown'd the fagot pile 
 And, spreading, lost itself in space. 
 
 The native chieftains of the Isle 
 Encircled close the roaring pile 
 
 And talk'd of cruel war. 
 Chief 'mongst the chiefs was Manteo, 
 The Saxons' trusted, subtle foe. 
 
 The settlers' " Evil Star." 
 
 This crafty " Lord of Roanoke," 
 
 This faithless " Peer of England," rose. 
 
 And, in the rippling Indian tongue, 
 
 Thus to the tattoo'd Savage spoke : 
 
 " See, braves, our stealthy, pale-faced foes ! 
 
 'Tis time the serpent's fang had stung! 
 
 " They come to rob us of our wood. 
 They come to spill our brave young blood, 
 
 Exterminate our race; 
 They deem the Red Man but a dog. 
 They steal his wits away with grog. 
 
 And mock him in disgrace. 
 
 [14] 
 
THE COUNCIL FIRE 
 
 " The Mighty Spirit bids us go, 
 
 Ignore the White Man's artful plea 
 
 And drive him from our hunting ground. 
 
 Each brave make ready now his bow! 
 
 * Sons of the Forest,' follow me. 
 
 And loud the Red Man's war-cry sound! " 
 
 " Nay, nay, great Chief ! " cri'd Croatan ; 
 " Such haste doth not become our clan, 
 
 These pale-face folk are wise! 
 Permit me. Chieftain Manteo, 
 To treat with yonder daring foe, 
 
 To clear these stormy skies. 
 
 " 'Tis better that the life-blood surge 
 Within the bosom of the brave 
 Than stain the verdure of our Isle; 
 'Tis wiser not to sound the dirge, 
 'Tis shrewder far to cheat the grave, 
 And meet yon Pale Face smile for smile." 
 
 Lord Manteo made fierce reply: 
 
 " 'Twere better that the whole tribe die 
 
 Than live in foul disgrace ! " 
 " Nay, nay ! " responded Croatan ; 
 "Thus shrieks the fiend, how speaks the man? 
 
 No foulness mocks our race." 
 
 [IS] 
 
THE COUNCIL FIRE 
 
 Full high and higher ran debate; 
 But Croatan at length prevail'd 
 And won the council to his side. 
 Lord Manteo, imbued with hate, 
 Beset with fury, storm'd and rail'd, 
 And could not there be pacifi'd. 
 
 The council clos'd, the night went by, 
 The morning saw an azure sky 
 
 And heard the axman's stroke; 
 Chief Croatan and Captain Dare 
 Drew up a treaty, just and fair. 
 
 Between their hostile folk. 
 
 [i6] 
 
V 
 
 Cxoatan 
 
 ^^^HhE seasons march'd their cohorts round 
 
 j^j^^l Twice o'er the Red Man's hunting ground; 
 
 The idol of her town could walk, 
 
 The jewel of her clan could talk. 
 
 Chief Croatan was often seen 
 
 Among fair children on the green; 
 
 The settlers lov'd the good old man, 
 
 And call'd him " Father Croatan." 
 
 He taught the Saxon lads to swim, 
 
 And train'd them well in arm and limb; 
 
 He taught them how to draw the bow, 
 
 The fatal tomahawk to throw; 
 
 He urg'd them up the lofty oak, 
 
 Unveil'd to them " Old Roanoke " ; 
 
 He show'd them how to trap the hare, 
 
 To track the wild fox to his lair ; 
 
 From him they learn'd to cast the hook. 
 
 To cover tracks and wade the brook; 
 
 He taught them, too, to dodge the dart, 
 
 And driird them well in warlike art. 
 
 Yet, though the old chief lov'd the boys, 
 
 At times he weari'd of their noise; 
 
 'Twas then he sought the house of Dare 
 
 And sav'd the good dame many a care. 
 
 [17] 
 
CROATAN 
 
 He haul'd the water from the spring, 
 
 And made the keen, old wood-axe ring. 
 
 He fed the poultry; rubb'd the horse; 
 
 And prov'd a never-ending source 
 
 Of pleasure to the little maid, 
 
 Who, fearlessly, about him play'd, 
 
 And, with her dimpled cheeks aglow, 
 
 In his dark palm, laid hers of snow. 
 
 He lov'd the merry little girl. 
 
 He lov'd her dainty, golden curl; 
 
 And, when her bright eyes droop'd and clos'd. 
 
 He walk'd until the sweet child dozed. 
 
 One sunset as the old chief play'd 
 
 Among the lads and with the maid. 
 
 Grim Manteo came stalking by. 
 
 Dark vengeance glaring from his eye. 
 
 The timid maiden saw, and fled; 
 
 The good chief shook his hoary head, 
 
 Indulg'd an extra game or two. 
 
 And wav'd his youthful chums adieu. 
 
 He disappear'd among the trees. 
 
 Where none pursu'd him save the breeze, 
 
 Which murmur'd in his ready ear, 
 
 " Old Croatan, thou know'st no fear ; 
 
 Yet, Croatan, be wise, beware! 
 
 For Manteo hath laid a snare 
 
 To sweep thee from his lordly path. 
 
 That he may vent his long-pent wrath." 
 
 [i8] 
 
CROATAN 
 
 The camp-fire roar'd, the forest frown' d, 
 The chieftains clos'd the flame around; 
 False Manteo denounc'd the White, 
 And caird upon his braves to fight. 
 Though Croatan pour'd out his heart, 
 His tongue had lost its magic art; 
 The council went with Manteo, 
 Stamp'd Croatan " a traitor, foe ! " 
 And would have slain the good old man, 
 Have shed the blood of Croatan; 
 But he had vanish'd from their sight, 
 And hid him in the gloom of night. 
 
 [19] 
 
VI 
 
 ZU <Sffacft 
 
 TRAIGHT to the town the old warrior sped, 
 Straight to Dare's house and arous'd him 
 from bed. 
 " Up, my bold Pale Face, the Red Man's abroad ! 
 Up, my brave fellow, and draw your good sword ! " 
 Thus shouted Croatan, friend of the White, 
 Calling to Dare from the gloom of the night. 
 Prompt to the cry the young captain arose, 
 Sounding the summons to arm for the foes. 
 Cheering the timid, restraining the bold, 
 Counseling young, and comforting old, 
 Round through the village he hastily sped, 
 Here and there dragging a sluggard from bed. 
 Soon, all assembled, his followers stood. 
 Off from the town, to'rd the deepening wood. 
 There the young captain grasp'd Croatan's hand, 
 Leading him forth to the head of the band ; 
 Where the old chief, for the love which he bore 
 Dare's little daughter, harangu'd as of yore: 
 " Friends of the Morning, brave comrades of mine, 
 Ere the great sun doth again on us shine. 
 Death shall career o'er the Red Man and White ; 
 Men of the Forest are angry to-night. 
 Croatan sought to keep peace in the land, 
 Croatan strove to extinguish the brand; 
 
 [20] 
 
THE ATTACK 
 
 When the war council took Manteo's part, 
 Croatan fled to the home of his heart. 
 Sons of the East, will you trust Croatan? " 
 Prompt rang the answer, " We will, to a man ! " 
 " Then, to the shadowy forest we'll go ; 
 Deep in the forest, and deal the first blow ! " 
 Soon, the weird war-cry arose o'er the isle. 
 As the fray open'd in true Savage style ; 
 Pistol and tomahawk, musket and bow. 
 Sword and the scalping-knife, measur'd out woe. 
 Ably, old Croatan wielded his troop. 
 Spurring them on by his soul-stirring whoop ; 
 But the fierce Savages knew the wood well, 
 Flanking the Saxons by hillock and dell, 
 Till their responses came scatter'd and few. 
 While the war-whoop of the Indians grew. 
 Dare, the last one of that brave British band, 
 Pierc'd by a shaft from false Manteo's hand. 
 There in the shadow of Roanoke's wood, 
 Pour'd out, in silence, his priceless, young blood. 
 Stoutly, old Croatan, baffling attack. 
 Beat his way singly, heroic'ly back; 
 Into the town, with the speed of a deer, 
 Rush'd the old chief, in his faithful career. 
 Then came the roll of that musty old drum. 
 Known to the warrior's wee, smallest chum. 
 Each sturdy lad, with his musket in hand, 
 Hastened to swell his lov'd comrade's command. 
 
 [21] 
 
THE ATTACK 
 
 Bent on defending his mother and chief. 
 
 Bent on avenging his own righteous grief. 
 
 Down came the Savages, down from the wood; 
 
 Breathlessly, Croatan's infantry stood. 
 
 On came the Red Men assur'd of their prey, 
 
 Confident there was no force in the way. 
 
 Suddenly, o'er the tumult, there rose high'r 
 
 Croatan's word to his followers, "Fire!" 
 
 Startled and routed, the Savages fled, 
 
 Leaving behind them their wounded and dead; 
 
 While the good Croatan, into the fort. 
 
 Led the young hardies his patience had taught. 
 
 Wild rang the wood with the curdling war-cry. 
 
 Wilder the echo; again they draw nigh! 
 
 Then to his troop spake the good Croatan, 
 
 " Braves, my young braves, you must each be a man ! 
 
 Mother and sister are leaning on you; 
 
 Soldiers, stand firm ; my stout hardies, be true ! " 
 
 Yells from the rampart cut short his harangue, 
 
 Prompt to his duty each little man sprang. 
 
 Charge upon charge, the assailants came on; 
 
 (Oh, for the fleet! for the men who were gone!) 
 
 Over and over, thrice over again, 
 
 Handling their weapons as if they were men, 
 
 Laying full many an Indian low, 
 
 Croatan's infantry baffled the foe; 
 
 But, when their powder and bullets were gone, 
 
 Fiercer than ever the Savage came on. 
 
 [22] 
 
THE ATTACK 
 
 Each little warrior, while his heart pray'd, 
 Drew, from its scabbard, the glistening blade; 
 And with his might dealt his heaviest blow, 
 Here and there felling his hideous foe. 
 Grimly, the Red Men, in wonder, cut down 
 Those gallant heroes of doom'd Raleigh town. 
 Giantlike, Croatan wrestled his foe. 
 Slaying a Savage at each mighty blow; 
 Sight of his life-blood gave him no alarm, 
 Wounds lent a zest to the strength of his arm. 
 'Midst the wild conflict, now here and now there, 
 Wielding some weapon aloft in the air, 
 Rose the strong arm of an Amazon dame 
 Shielding her child or protecting its frame. 
 Heart-rending, hideous, blood-curdling cries 
 Point where the covetous scalping-knife plies. 
 Onward, the death-struggles eddy and whirl; 
 Where is Dare's daughter, the chief's little girl? 
 There she lies, true to the filial behest. 
 Clinging in fright to her dead mother's breast. 
 Croatan's soul with one purpose was fraught; 
 Fiercer and stronger his giant arm wrought 
 When he beheld the false Manteo stand. 
 Wielding his tomahawk high in his hand. 
 Gleaming a grim, diabolical smile. 
 O'er the fair beauty of Roanoke Isle. 
 Like an old tiger upon his choice prey, 
 Croatan leap'd to the hand to hand fray ; 
 
 [23] 
 
THE ATTACK 
 
 Fiendish the fight between chieftain and chief — 
 Long-studi'd vengeance and keen present-grief. 
 Manteo met his assailant full well; 
 Brief was the struggle, and Manteo fell. 
 Lifting the babe from its mother's chill breast, 
 Croatan heard but one potent behest ; 
 Leaping the wall at the point where he stood. 
 Nestling his treasure, he fled to the wood. 
 
 [24] 
 
VII 
 
 ^rager anb Jineivetr 
 
 '•^^^REAT Spirit, guide thy brave to-night; 
 ^^pl Protect this infant with thy might. 
 
 wondrous God of brave young Dare, 
 
 1 trust my treasure to thy care; 
 If she may live on, God, may I! 
 If she must perish, let me die ! " 
 Thus pray'd the soul of Croatan, 
 That noble-hearted, kind old man ; 
 And, as he pray'd, her flesh grew cold. 
 The fight was done, the chief was old; 
 He gently laid her form aside. 
 
 His great heart burst, and he, too, di'd. 
 
 [25] 
 
^^^?OD'S Sunday is no time for idle sloth, 
 
 g^^^ No time for selfish pleasure; but for growth- 
 
 That growth which lifts the soul to realms of light, 
 
 And makes each act a joy because 'tis right. 
 
 Yet Sunday is, indeed, a day of rest; 
 
 Though there are few whose words and deeds attest 
 
 A wholesome knowledge of the character 
 
 Of such a rest as Sunday should confer. 
 
 A change of posture, change of scene or thought, 
 
 Will tend to rest an organ over-wrought. 
 
 Each humble member of the human frame 
 
 Has special work to do, its place and name; 
 
 Yet each in turn holds undisputed sway; 
 
 'Tis thus God's Sunday is the Soul's High Day. 
 
 Let meditation have its potent hour, 
 
 Let Christian charity unfold its pow'r, 
 
 Give rare humility its rarer due, 
 
 And fill the place allotted in your pew. 
 
 Be sure your household duties all are done; 
 
 For this with Christianity is one. 
 
 Do not forget to lend a helping hand. 
 
 Fulfil whate'er the daily needs demand; 
 
 But do not let these worldly things outweigh 
 
 God's Sunday — Sunday is the Soul's High Day. 
 
 [26] 
 
(gain ®rop0 
 
 HEN — the summer sun descended, 
 Daylight ended, 
 And the soothing twiHght flown — 
 All is peaceful relaxation 
 
 And cessation, 
 Then 'tis well to be alone. 
 
 When the timid summer shower 
 
 O'er my bower 
 Patters down like fairy feet. 
 O'er my restless spirit, stealing, 
 
 Comes a feeling 
 Kin to blissfulness complete. 
 
 Kindness fills my very being; 
 
 But for fleeing 
 Ere the morrow brings its toil, 
 Oft would leave a word unspoken. 
 
 Heart unbroken. 
 Prove the Tempter's fatal foil. 
 
 But the gentle patter ceases. 
 
 And releases 
 Thought to wander far and wide; 
 Slumber steals away the notion. 
 
 Lays emotion. 
 Puts the kind impulse aside. 
 
 [27] 
 
RAIN DROPS 
 
 How much greater were our pleasure 
 
 Could we measure 
 Upward to the soul's ideal! 
 Yet each struggle lifts us nearer, 
 
 Makes it dearer, 
 Brings less woe and greater weal. 
 
 Each pure rain-drop sent from Heaven 
 
 Is a leaven 
 For the sinful soul of man; 
 Give it place that it engender 
 
 Thoughts more tender, 
 More in keeping with God's plan. 
 
 [28] 
 
Our <0uar6ian 
 
 t^ggjEAR Jesu, Thou our guardian be 
 B^^K Against the Evil One; 
 And teach us to rely on Thee, 
 God's lone "Begotten Son." 
 
 O help us all to be content 
 
 With what is ours below, 
 And not upon earth's riches bent; 
 
 Support us in our woe. 
 
 And when the " Judgment Day,' at last, 
 
 Doth dawn upon our sight, 
 May we not long to cloak the past. 
 
 But stand upon Thy right. 
 
 On high with Thee, O Jesu dear. 
 
 We'll join Thy holy choir; 
 Nor shall the Tempter enter there, 
 
 Nor shall Thy children tire. 
 
 [29] 
 
Qtlififatrg ^^mn 
 
 ^^^ROM Cuba's broad plantation, 
 /fe^Jl From Puerto Rico's shore, 
 Where'er the Spanish nation 
 
 Hath spent the land in gore, 
 From Philippine's dark daughter. 
 
 From Caroline's fair strand. 
 The cry comes o'er the water, 
 
 " O stay the tyrant's hand! " 
 
 What though the ground-down Cuban, 
 
 Starv'd out, crawl off to die. 
 Though crimes the most inhuman 
 
 Have drawn the Malay's cry. 
 Though long the distant thunder 
 
 Hath told the coming storm, 
 Yet Spain, by crime and blunder, 
 
 Doth stifle just reform. 
 
 Shall we whose arms are strengthen'd 
 
 By freedom dearly bought. 
 Permit the season lengthen'd 
 
 Ere she be better taught? 
 On, with the righteous thunder 
 
 Of cannon-ball and shell; 
 While Old World nations wonder, 
 
 Deal justice full and well. 
 
 [30] 
 
MILITARY HYMN 
 
 Flash, flash, ye wires of lightning; 
 
 Resound, ye telephones; 
 For Freedom's star is bright'ning, 
 
 And Spain's dark tyrant groans, 
 " Humanity forever ! " 
 
 Let fair Columbia sing, 
 Till Freedom's staunch endeavor 
 
 Prostrate the tyrant king. 
 
 [31] 
 
■ 
 
 ^ERE lie the remnants of a man, 
 The portion which alone can die, 
 
 Whose life was as an infant's span 
 Against the vastness of the sky — 
 
 The dead cocoon of spirit man. 
 
 The " dust to dust," the earthworm's prey, 
 The school-house where the soul began 
 
 Its growth, the temple proud of clay — 
 
 Consign'd now to its native place 
 
 To be forgotten, waste away. 
 That there be born, with greater grace, 
 
 A spirit mould, from its decay. 
 
 The houseless soul rests in retreat 
 
 Where all departed spirits hie. 
 Until its new-born flesh complete 
 
 The man immortal of the sky. 
 
 [32] 
 
]AY has come with all its flowers, 
 All its fragrance, balm, and hue; 
 Flitting round their dainty bowers, 
 Yonder birdies work and woo. 
 
 Could I now, like them, be building 
 Home and hearth-stone for my mate, 
 
 All the world would change its gilding, 
 Vest itself in festive state. 
 
 Let me, O my King and Master 
 
 Taste such joy before I die; 
 Ointment seal'd in alabaster 
 
 Cannot soothe an infant's cry. 
 
 [33] 
 
^^LOW gently, Time Father, throughout thy long 
 
 JKI day. 
 
 Flow gently, and steal not sweet childhood away. 
 
 A maiden's embarking upon thy dark stream ; 
 
 Flow gently, Time Father, disturb not youth's dream. 
 
 Thou shadowy monster of fast waning years. 
 Thou gloomy foreboder bedew'd in thy tears, 
 Thou faint and decrepit, disheart'ning old age. 
 Depress not my maiden with counseling sage. 
 
 Flow gently. Time Father, throughout thy long day. 
 
 Flow gently, kind parent, benign be thy sway ; 
 
 A maiden's embarking upon thy dark stream, 
 
 Flow gently. Time Father, disturb not youth's dream. 
 
 [34] 
 
&tatitub^ 
 
 V^^j'M a ship; thou art my anchor, 
 
 ^^ After whom I'm bound to hanker. 
 
 When thou divest, I must swim ; 
 
 When thou risest to the brim, 
 
 Caught by ev'ry passing gale 
 
 I obey my fickle sail. 
 
 Till again thou anch'rest me 
 
 On the wild and stormy sea. 
 
 Thus, as time wings swiftly by, 
 
 Gratefully my pen I ply, 
 
 Greeting thee this natal day. 
 
 Driving sober thoughts away. 
 
 May thou live to good, old age. 
 
 Wear the specs which mark the sage, 
 
 Have false hair upon thy pate. 
 
 Have false teeth and wear a plate, 
 
 Have all good things grannies eat, 
 
 Have the gout in both thy feet. 
 
 [35] 
 
IS good to have a mother 
 Above the heartless turf; 
 Her gentle hand and kind command 
 Are cherish'd as none other, 
 
 Alike by king and serf. 
 Her voice is sweetest, ever, 
 
 To him who knows her worth. 
 'Tis not the great, the high in state, 
 The popular, the clever. 
 
 The excellent by birth. 
 Who most esteem the mother; 
 
 'Tis oft the poor and sad. 
 The brown-hu'd skin from want grown thin, 
 The prey of some rich brother 
 
 Who stalks in ermine clad. 
 The mother's anxious teaching 
 
 Outweighs the sage's ken; 
 'Tis fraught with love from Him above, 
 'Tis ever busy bleaching 
 The sin-stain'd souls of men. 
 She knows the strength of leaven, 
 
 Dispenses it with care ; 
 Her magic wand is Christ's own hand, 
 In mercy stretch'd from Heaven, 
 
 In answer to her pray'r. 
 
 [36] 
 
TO MOTHER 
 
 And now, my own fond mother, 
 
 Thou gem of gems to me, 
 If to thy boy may come such joy, 
 God grant him yet one other 
 True treasure like to thee. 
 
 [37] 
 
^^^8 HE temple, moulded of the sod, 
 [|[^^| Must seek its own again; 
 The spirit, image of its God, 
 
 Alone survives of men. 
 God giveth with a lavish hand; 
 
 And, though he take again, 
 His children needs must understand. 
 
 The soul survives of men. 
 
 His mercies cluster round about, 
 
 Each joy is from His hand ; 
 The cowing fear and halting doubt 
 
 Are laid at His command. 
 He teacheth us to love our friends; 
 
 Affection is His wand, 
 To whose mild touch the tyrant bends 
 
 And stays his cruel hand. 
 
 God bindeth daughter unto sire. 
 
 The husband to the wife, 
 In love which prompteth the desire 
 
 To bless each other's life ; 
 And, when their love hath wax'd and grown. 
 
 He parteth them a space. 
 To reunite them at His throne. 
 
 To crown them with His grace. 
 
 [38] 
 
HOPE 
 
 'Twere vain to bid the lonely heart 
 
 Dismiss its tender grief; 
 For 'tis the whole of Nature's art, 
 
 When stung, to find relief. 
 Yet, do not let us blindly grope 
 
 In depths of dire despair; 
 But lend the living spark of hope 
 
 To ev'ry loving tear. 
 
 [39] 
 
(mg &ab^ 
 
 ^ Y heart is fondly longing, 
 Dear, for thee; 
 
 When wilt thou grant its fervent pray'r. 
 
 And come to me? 
 The airy dome is whirling. 
 
 Far and wide, 
 With graceful, flitting forms of thee. 
 
 Oft multipli'd. 
 
 I love to see thy phantom 
 
 Glide about. 
 And often think to fold it near 
 
 By reaching out; 
 But, no, the dainty coquette 
 
 Flees away. 
 And leaves me to the gloom of night 
 
 Or glow of day. 
 
 'Tis then, dear one, I miss thee — 
 
 Miss thee sore; 
 But could I fold thee, fold thee near 
 
 For evermore, 
 My panting heart were happy. 
 
 Light, and gay; 
 My life a verdant, genial spring, 
 
 A balmy May. 
 
 [40] 
 
IXitUm 
 
 Whene'er they go out? 
 When kittens wear mittens, 
 Young mice are about. 
 
 What have mittens on kittens 
 To do with young mice? 
 
 'Tis the kittens in mittens 
 Who think them so nice. 
 
 Most kittens wear mittens 
 To hide their sharp claws, 
 
 All kittens in mittens 
 
 Have teeth in their jaws. 
 
 If lasses are kittens, 
 Then laddies are mice; 
 
 If follies are mittens, 
 
 Pray, what is their price? 
 
 [41] 
 
(nip ^eac^er 
 
 'ho told me first of Marathon? 
 
 Who led my youthful mind, in awe, 
 Aloft the pyramid, 
 Extoll'd the " Son of Macedon," 
 Explained the ancient " Salic law," 
 And prais'd the Spanish " Cid "? 
 
 Who drew the beauty from the rhyme 
 Dan Chaucer's genius left to men, 
 
 And kindly show'd it me? 
 Who soar'd with me the heights sublime 
 Of stern John Milton's awful pen, 
 
 And smii'd at Bob Burns's glee? 
 
 Who my imagination bore, 
 
 On wings well feather'd for the flight. 
 
 Athwart the starlit sky? 
 Who op'd the door of Euclid's store. 
 Exposing reason's gems to light 
 
 And bidding error fly? 
 
 Who guided, all unknown to me. 
 My feeble, halting thought aright. 
 
 And stirr'd my flagging zeal? 
 'Twas one, now dwelling o'er the sea, 
 My honor'd teacher whose delight 
 
 Was e'er her pupil's weal. 
 
 [42] 
 
MY TEACHER 
 
 I knew not then, as I know now, 
 The loving wisdom of my guide; 
 
 Else, had I pris'd her lore. 
 May wreaths of laurel crown her brow, 
 When Heaven throws its portal wide 
 
 For her, forevermore. 
 
 [43] 
 
(propiience 
 
 
 NGEL-LIKE, she flitted in 
 And stole our hearts away; 
 She drew us music from the din 
 Of life's tumultuous day. 
 
 To us, like some sweet bird of song, 
 She came with joyous strain; 
 
 And, when the day was dark and long, 
 Brought sunshine through the rain. 
 
 The " Holy Dove of Galilee," 
 
 Upon her brow found rest ; 
 That " perfect love which maketh free" 
 
 Abode within her breast. 
 
 " God doth His own in safety keep," 
 And fold them to His breast; 
 
 He bore her, in an infant's sleep, 
 To His eternal rest. 
 
 [44] 
 
AM a lively little lad, 
 Just eight years old to-day; 
 Sometimes I'm good, sometimes I'm bad, 
 And all times full of play. 
 
 I am a hopeful little prince. 
 
 Some day I'll be a king. 
 I'll not be dainty, pick, and mince; 
 
 I'll hustle ev'rything. 
 
 " King Arthur " shall my title be ; 
 
 " King Arthur," how it sounds ! 
 My cottage shall my castle be; 
 
 My kingdom, cot and grounds. 
 
 Of all the subjects in my realm, 
 
 I'll first subdue the king; 
 And when he's ready for the helm, 
 
 He'll pilot ev'rything. 
 
 [45] 
 
borrow 
 
 HE sorrow of the stricken heart 
 Is present with us all; 
 
 We grieve for friends, when they depart, 
 Because our faith is small. 
 
 Could we but feel as we do think 
 
 When Reason sits in state. 
 There were no woe upon the brink, 
 
 No wailing at the gate. 
 
 O pray for steadfast faith to feel 
 
 A joy when friends depart. 
 For faith to know that Heaven's real. 
 
 For faith to brace the heart. 
 
 [46] 
 
^cm\iEAR after year steals softly by; 
 ^!^: Yet we survive, both you and I. 
 
 Hope after hope comes but to fly; 
 Yet we hope on, both you and I. 
 
 Fear after fear is born to die ; 
 Yet we are fearful, you and I. 
 
 Grief after grief forgets its sigh; 
 Yet we grieve on, both you and I. 
 
 Joy after joy brings Heaven nigh; 
 Yet we are earthy, you and I. 
 
 O let us look upon the sky — 
 Upon God's Heaven, you and I. 
 
 And, as the years in silence fly, 
 May we grow better, you and I ; 
 
 That when the Gates swing wide on High, 
 We both may enter, you and I. 
 
 [47] 
 
ilauttC^ina 
 
 m 
 
 HY ship is launched, young friend, 
 Upon life's restless sea; 
 Let modest prudence be 
 The pilot to the end. 
 
 Not prudence born of men ; 
 But wisdom from on High, 
 Which pointeth to the sky — 
 A far transcendent ken. 
 
 Keep well beyond the rocks; 
 Our frail barks cannot stand 
 Much grinding on the sand 
 Or many breaker shocks. 
 
 When thou must enter port, 
 Sound well the channel's bed. 
 Steer steadfastly ahead, 
 With Christ as thy support. 
 
 When storms assail thy bark 
 Head foremost to the wave; 
 For God is sworn to save 
 The righteous in His Ark. 
 
 [48] 
 
LAUNCHING 
 
 Success to thee, and wealth, 
 My former schoolmate, friend; 
 May all thy virtues blend 
 In holiness and health. 
 
 [49] 
 
(nig (mother 
 
 GAIN, the vari'd seasons flown, 
 
 Sweet, verdant Spring reclaims her own; 
 And, with her tender finger tip. 
 Once more, dyes red the purple lip. 
 She smiles, and Winter flees away; 
 She smiles again, and all is May; 
 Where yonder earth lay bare and cold, 
 Fair flowers flourish manifold. 
 She calls her dainty feather'd brood. 
 Sets them to work by multitude ; 
 And draws her beauty from the art 
 Of them she teaches to impart. 
 Fit virgin she to hail the birth 
 Of Heaven's choicest gift to Earth; 
 Her mildness wraps the infant round, 
 Her sweetness in its heart is found, 
 Her animation fires its soul, 
 And her perfection names its goal. 
 Such infant, mother, once wast thou ; 
 And such the nurse who lav'd thy brow. 
 Full well hast thou, these many years, 
 Disarmed her anxious, loving fears; 
 And, true to Heaven's treasur'd hope, 
 Lent all thy virtues boundless scope. 
 I greet thee with a son's caress, 
 I glory in thy faithfulness, 
 
 [50] 
 
MY MOTHER 
 
 I hail thee at this festive time 
 With feeble, but devoted rhyme, 
 And bid the future hold in store 
 A blither lot than heretofore — 
 Yet brighter days, devoted still 
 To God's unerring, holy will. 
 
 [51] 
 
H (gxxt^ba^ (Breeding 
 
 ^^^RUE friends, and loyal, are not found 
 ^^^^ At every turn in life; 
 But shrewd deceivers hover round — 
 Low traitors in the strife. 
 
 'Tis meet that friendship, true and tri'd 
 
 Should have a friend's reward ; 
 This token is, that we abide 
 
 In friendship still unmarr'd. 
 
 The day is fitting for the deed. 
 
 The deed reflects the heart; 
 May you ne'er know a single need 
 
 True friendship can impart. 
 
 [52] 
 
Y father kept a flock of sheep; 
 He kept a dog the sheep to keep, 
 And fed him thrice a day. 
 'Twas early on a May-day morn, 
 Some six years after I was born, 
 I heard my father say, — 
 
 " Come, Matthew" (Matthew was our man), 
 " Must get through shearing if we can 
 
 This very afternoon ! " 
 With this, they started for the pen; 
 While I, more anxious than the men, 
 
 Could not arrive too soon. 
 
 Old Matthew, by a streak of luck. 
 Made one wild dash and caught a buck, 
 
 The leader of the flock. 
 They bound him with a good, stout cord. 
 And laid him helpless on the board 
 
 To rally from the shock. 
 
 As I was not so very tall 
 
 And wish'd to have a view of all. 
 
 Without my father's ken, 
 I climb'd upon a pile of sacks 
 Heap'd up within the cattle racks, 
 
 Outside, against the pen. 
 
 [53] 
 
YOUNG AMERICA 
 
 I watch'd the white wool rolling back, 
 Beheld the shears' advancing track, 
 
 And wonder'd at the sight; 
 I saw my skillful parent's shears 
 Trim neatly round the old buck's ears. 
 
 And beam'd with pure dehght. 
 
 But, soon, " His Majesty " was shorn 
 From cloven hoof to spreading horn. 
 
 And father cut the cord. 
 The buck knew not that he was free ; 
 Or else he scorn'd his liberty. 
 
 And lay there on the board. 
 
 But when Pa tapp'd him with the shears. 
 He seem'd beset with fiendish fears, 
 
 And sprang out into space. 
 Entangling me within his feet, 
 He bore me from my stolen seat, 
 
 Down flat upon my face. 
 
 I made the spacious welkin ring; 
 
 And blubber'd out, "You mean old thing! 
 
 You tore my hat and shirt! 
 I'd like to beat you ! so I would ! 
 rd do it, too! I'd beat you good! 
 
 I'd wallow you in dirt ! " 
 
 [54] 
 
YOUNG AMERICA 
 
 But off he ran, that horrid buck ; 
 While I bewail'd the cruel luck 
 
 Which let him thus go free. 
 And looking round me at those sacks 
 Heap'd up within the cattle racks, 
 
 I sigh'd, " No more for me ! " 
 
 [55] 
 
(m^ QSonnie (gxibt 
 
 ^^^HE laddies and the lasses 
 [j^^ Are two distinctive classes, 
 
 Wherever found. 
 The one is bold and daring, 
 The other, meek and sparing. 
 
 The world around. 
 
 Of all the winsome lasses. 
 There's one who far surpasses 
 
 The multitude. 
 There's nothing crude about her; 
 Refinement weeps without her. 
 
 In solitude. 
 
 I love her gentle manner; 
 I love to sit and fan her, 
 
 At eventide. 
 Stand back, ye lads and lasses ; 
 Behold her as she passes — 
 
 My bonnie bride! 
 
 [56] 
 
<2l S^irg 
 
 ^^^HERE is a fairy in the land 
 1^^^ Whose worth no mortal knows 
 Who toils with head, and heart, and hand, 
 To soften others' woes. 
 
 She cheers the sad, assists the dull, 
 
 And gives the weary rest; 
 Where'er she goes the world is full 
 
 Of lives her life has blest. 
 
 She joins the merry in their mirth, 
 
 Responds to quiet wit; 
 Instils new hope where ther's a dearth. 
 
 Inspires new vim and grit. 
 
 Her own great griefs, great sorrows, ills, 
 
 No one but God doth know ; 
 And, yet, the happiness which fills 
 
 Her life sets all aglow. 
 
 Great Father of the earth and sky. 
 
 Make me so good and true; 
 Grant me the grace before I die 
 
 To be a fairy, too. 
 
 [57] 
 
WM WAS a little rustic lad, 
 ^^ With naked feet, and brown; 
 My heart was very, very glad, 
 For pa had been to town. 
 
 Whene'er he went to that great place. 
 
 As he had done that day. 
 He very seldom lack'd the grace 
 
 To bring some cake away. 
 
 So there I sat in pensive bliss, 
 
 Devouring ginger-snaps; 
 The palate pleas'd, there's naught amiss 
 
 With little country chaps. 
 
 I had one pretty cake left still. 
 
 The end of bliss drew nigh; 
 I check'd me with heroic will. 
 
 Would eat this bye and bye. 
 
 And there upon the chopping block, 
 
 Caress'd it in my hand; 
 But did not see the Shanghai cock, 
 
 Or know the ill he plann'd. 
 
 [58] 
 
THE THIEF 
 
 A flapping and a rush of feet — 
 He had my precious cake ; 
 
 I fairly tumbled from my seat 
 And followed in his wake. 
 
 Around the chicken yard we sped, 
 
 The rooster in advance ; 
 I stumbled, landed on my head, 
 
 And gave the cock his chance. 
 
 I rose to see him stretch his neck 
 And gulp the last piece down; 
 
 He left me not one single speck 
 Of what pa brought from town. 
 
 The wisdom I thus gain'd in grief, 
 I'd feign give other chaps; 
 
 "Procrastination is the thief" 
 Of youngsters' ginger-snaps. 
 
 [59] 
 
(VitQxnia ^oti 
 
 S^^HE stars unwonted twinkle wore, 
 ^^^1 The smiling queen of sparkling night 
 Rose full of grace and upward bore, 
 Entrancing all in silver light. 
 
 The dewdrop glisten'd diamond bright; 
 
 The glowworm shed its fitful light; 
 While, from her perch secure from sight, 
 
 The whippoorwill bewitch'd the night. 
 
 The breezes lisp'd, the flowers smil'd. 
 The brooks their sweetest music play'd; 
 
 Dame Nature, like a merry child, 
 Her ev'ry pleasing art display'd. 
 
 At midnight, rose all beasts and birds, 
 Who sang their praises to the Lord, 
 
 And then, in tones of love, these words, 
 " Virginia, sweet Virginia Ford ! 
 
 " A virgin infant's born to-night. 
 
 Whose glance shall far outweigh the sword 
 Of thousands in the cause of right — 
 
 Virginia, sweet Virginia Ford! 
 
 [60] 
 
VIRGINIA FORD 
 
 " An ideal daughter, mother, wife, 
 
 Whose virtues bring their own reward, 
 
 This maid shall lead a holy Hfe — 
 Virginia, sweet Virginia Ford! 
 
 '* And when at last her spirit flies 
 To seek the bosom of its Lord, 
 
 Angelic song shall fill the skies — 
 Virginia, sweet Virginia Ford ! " 
 
 [6i] 
 
©eeire 
 
 LL over-wrought desire 
 Exiles our inward peace, 
 Begets unrighteous ire, 
 Destroys Love's golden lyre. 
 
 And bids her music cease. 
 The envious war-cry 
 
 Of cruel Greed is heard. 
 As Love can neither die 
 Nor stay, she needs must fly; 
 
 But, like some mother bird 
 Upon whose cherish'd nest 
 
 A stronger spreads its wing, 
 She hovers with her breast 
 Upheav'd, nor seeks her rest. 
 
 Nor has the heart to sing. 
 Down — down — the soul is hurl'd 
 
 Amid consuming fire; 
 Unless it spurn the world 
 And have the pinions furl'd 
 
 Of over-wrought desire. 
 If so, Love flutters in 
 
 And soothes the care-worn soul; 
 While, Greed's impatient din 
 Now banish'd with its sin. 
 
 The Spirit seeks its goal. 
 
 [62] 
 
H 
 
 ^ranegreeeion 
 
 WAS when I rode upon the harrows 
 And my sober thoughts were few, 
 
 Where swains roll out the heavy barrows 
 
 And the hoppers sip the dew, 
 Where cattle browse midst bush and thistle. 
 
 Owls proclaim their solitude. 
 The partridge sounds his clear-cut whistle, 
 
 Catbird playing interlude — 
 That, on a sultry summer's morning, 
 
 As I revel'd at my ease, 
 A calf, despite all previous warning, 
 
 Nibbled at our nursery trees. 
 Dear Aunt Priscilla cri'd out, " Johnny ! 
 Run, O run ! my honey, run ! " 
 I ran as fast as any honey, 
 
 Even in such summer sun. 
 Right on, I hurri'd, empty-handed. 
 
 Thinking that the beast would go 
 The very instant I commanded. 
 
 Or pretended at a blow. 
 And yet, he did possess a liking 
 
 For the sport of butting folks ; 
 Nor are there many things more striking 
 
 Than a calf's selected jokes. 
 
 [63] 
 
TRANSGRESSION 
 
 My age was somewhat over seven, 
 
 And my sight was rather poor; 
 The sun beam'd from a cloudless heaven 
 
 As I gaily onward bore. 
 The calf was red, and my weak vision 
 
 Dazzled by the glowing light, 
 I fail'd to see the bold derision. 
 
 See his attitude for fight; 
 And rush'd upon the brute, mistaking 
 
 Head for tail and tail for head. 
 What gave me that tremendous shaking? 
 
 Was I living still, or dead? 
 Upon the ground I sprawl'd, while o'er me 
 
 Tramp 'd that saucy, warlike beast; 
 His ragged hoofs both skinn'd and tore me; 
 
 Twenty butts he gave, at least. 
 I shouted, " Stop it ! " roll'd and tumbled ; 
 
 But the calf kept up its sport. 
 My boyish pride was somewhat humbled; 
 
 But my temper, greatly wrought. 
 The creature wax'd more enterprising; 
 
 Growing fiercer than before. 
 Whenever he beheld me rising, 
 
 Squar'd himself and gave me more. 
 At length, in pain and desperation, 
 
 Catching firmly hold his ears 
 (O what a golden inspiration! 
 
 How it check'd my rising tears!) 
 
 [64] 
 
TRANSGRESSION 
 
 I sprang upon my feet beside him ; 
 
 Then bestow'd myself astride 
 His rosy back, and there defi'd him 
 
 To reverse the battle tide. 
 Yet was there danger there astraddle, 
 
 'Twas a most uneasy seat ; 
 I wish'd for stirrups and a saddle, 
 
 Struggled with my dangling feet. 
 The calf, perceiving he was master, 
 
 Took it in his head to run ; 
 The more I yell'd, he ran the faster; 
 
 Bent, it seem'd, on having fun. 
 On to'rd the old frog branch he hurri'd, 
 
 Clear'd it with a single bound. 
 How ma, when I went home was worried! 
 
 How the washer-woman f rown'd ! 
 I lost my boasted hold, and tumbled, 
 
 Headlong, into muck and mire; 
 And there my charger, nothing humbled, 
 
 Left me tangled in a brier. 
 But, friends, I must make one confession- 
 
 I had taught that calf his tricks; 
 So, 'twas the fruit of my transgression, 
 Measured out in butts and kicks. 
 
 [65] 
 
il ^totm at 6pe 
 
 HEN the Sun in his glory has swept the broad 
 sky, 
 
 And the twilight approaching brings ease to the eye, 
 When the heat of the day, as if fearful of night. 
 From the bosom of Earth wings its heavenward flight, 
 When the fairy-like, dancing, electric display 
 Lends a weirdness unknown to the beauty of day, 
 And the dull, rumbling echo of that roar of despair 
 Which accompanies lightning unsettles the air — 
 When these warnings that forces, terrestrial and great, 
 Are abroad upon missions assign'd them by Fate, 
 It is time to call halt to the din of the day ; 
 To review, to consider, each act to reweigh; 
 Ask forgiveness for sins of aggression, neglect; 
 Ask for grace our short-comings to see and correct. 
 Then behold the advance of the on-coming storm. 
 And descry in each pillar of cloud the rare form 
 Of some angel of mercy, some vision of peace. 
 Some suggestion of happiness never to cease. 
 In the flash of the lightning, too bright for the eye, 
 There is seen the swift glance of Jehovah on high; 
 And the roll of the thunder proclaiming His pow'r, 
 Is His voice from the cloud in the critical hour. 
 Thus, the grandeur of nature, and beauty, combine 
 In electrical storms, and the charm is divine. 
 
 [66] 
 
Bi^cie Bamcnt 
 
 NEVAH has a birfday, now; 
 Jis cause I'se gittin' ole, I 'low. 
 Ef folks could onct forgit da knack 
 O' talkin' wen dey's lookin' back, 
 O' tellin' wen, o' nigh about, 
 A gal in 'ciety done come out, 
 She mout den stan some kine a show — 
 Be inny age, o' less, o' mo'e. 
 An' den da young folks gits da cue 
 An' goes a talkin', so dey do! 
 An', dreckly, all da beaus drap off; 
 Da lub-win whis roun' to da nawf; 
 Da pickaninnies pints an' grins. 
 An' talks out loud 'bout wrinkle chins. 
 " Dah haint no use ! " I'se often heerd ; 
 Dah haint no use I'se mighty fear'd 
 To hide dese wrinkles an' dese hairs. 
 To smother all dese groans an' cares — 
 Jis puts me in a pow'ful rage 
 Wen folks keeps blabbin' out yoh age! 
 Yes, I is gittin' ole, I 'low ; 
 An' nevah has a birfday, now. 
 
 [67] 
 
^ 
 
 3B, ^iiviv (^ibbin^ 
 
 WHAT a solemn, happy day, 
 
 Now five-and-twenty years away, 
 When " Old Dominion's " fair young bride 
 Stood, smiling, at her bridegroom's side! 
 The " Old, Old Story " ever wears 
 A pristine freedom from all cares; 
 And, when, the solemn service done. 
 The seal affix'd to love long won. 
 The stately couple turn'd to go — 
 His cheeks all pallid, hers aglow — 
 They saw their progress down the aisle 
 Restrain'd by proff er'd kiss and smile ; 
 The former was the bride's reward. 
 The latter for her late-made lord. 
 Their rightful kiss the grandsires claim ; 
 The youngsters, swooping on their game, 
 With blushing cheek and beaming eye, 
 Takes, each, his kiss, half on the sly ; 
 The " Sweet Sixteen " (whom all the while 
 Anticipation lends a smile). 
 Trips lightly forward, claims her share. 
 And turns in haste to disappear; 
 But when the grandmammas advance. 
 The yet-unfavor'd look askance. 
 For well they know the ancient way 
 In which grand-dames beguile the day. 
 
 [68] 
 
A SILVER WEDDING 
 
 Still each, in turn, with vari'd pride, 
 Bore off his booty from the bride; 
 And she, the trying ordeal o'er. 
 With cheeks yet redder than before. 
 Swept, queenlike, on, with airy tread, 
 Beside her knight — whose pallor fled, 
 Now bore himself with kingly pride. 
 And led away his winsome bride. 
 Full many an autumn, since that day. 
 Has roll'd its wither'd leaves away; 
 And now their Silver Wedding come 
 Amid the blessings of a home, 
 May joy and comfort yet be theirs, 
 By grace of God, for many years; 
 And when their spirits homeward fly 
 To Him who doth all life supply, 
 I know they'll rest beneath the v/ing 
 Of their belov'd and loving King. 
 
 [69] 
 
il ©ream of (JDeaK$ 
 
 |!|[\ERE I a monomillionaire, 
 
 How would I use my money? 
 Had I the paltry price to spare, 
 I'd buy a pound of honey. 
 
 Were this great fortune from my sire, 
 
 I'd likely boast about it ; 
 And, quenching ev'ry moral fire, 
 
 Would soon exist without it. 
 
 Were I a miser, gaunt and sour, 
 
 I'd hide it in some corner, 
 And nurse it there until the hour 
 
 When I should be a " goner." 
 
 Were I a youth, some " mutton-head," 
 I'd spend it on my back, sir; 
 
 And, when my million wheels had fled, 
 I'd call myself " a jack," sir. 
 
 Were I a fool, I'd give a ball. 
 
 Invite the foolish to it; 
 And, midst the envy of them all, 
 
 I'd run, in glee, right through it. 
 
 [70] 
 
A DREAM OF WEALTH 
 
 Had I no wealth of common sense, 
 No doubt, I'd soon be senseless; 
 
 For, one by one, I'd lose my pence. 
 And, thereby, soon be penceless. 
 
 But, were my soul in proper tune, 
 Did wisdom rule my reason, 
 
 I'd answer at the " Great Tribune " 
 For all my wealth, in season. 
 
 [71] 
 
l^pRIEND of days departed, 
 /i^i^jl Kind friend of years gone by, 
 Why this speaking silence? 
 O why this mute reply? 
 
 Life hath little in it, 
 
 When friends asunder part; 
 Heaven were a Hades, 
 
 Without a kindred heart. 
 
 Dark the way, and dreary. 
 Where only strangers tread; 
 
 Sad the heart, and weary, 
 
 Whose friendships all are dead. 
 
 Stir the dying embers 
 
 Of love within thy breast. 
 Lest death's chill December 
 
 Exile some would-be guest. 
 
 Grasp the hand which us'd to 
 
 Bring comfort in its grip. 
 And henceforth refuse to 
 
 Allow that hand to slip. 
 
 [72] 
 
cSiieu 
 
 ^^^OOD-BYE, but not farewell; 
 g^^^ Adieu, to meet again; 
 Few hopes that quill or tongue can tell 
 Are dearer unto men. 
 
 Adieu, for things must change; 
 
 Good-bye, yet not for long. 
 Faint not because the road is strange, 
 
 God's way cannot be wrong. 
 
 Once more, adieu, good-bye ! 
 
 Our woe augments our weal; 
 The cloud which skirts the sunset sky 
 
 But makes its beauty real. 
 
 God give thee faith and grace 
 
 To see His way aright. 
 To know His world is not a place 
 
 Of dark, eternal night. 
 
 God grant thee hope to cheer 
 
 In forest, mead, or glen; 
 And bless thy efforts year by year — 
 
 Adieu, to meet again! 
 
 [73] 
 
SEP IX 1^1 
 
T AdoQ 
 
 ^061 
 
 SA CT 
 
 ZCZ3 Sd