M||||i^|p|p||i||P W LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. T- — g 6 'S ? S^p iapijrtg^t :|a.- UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. FIRST POEMS WILDIE THAYER OF '°^flS JUfv B11895 BOSTON THE MORNING STAR PUBLISHING HOUSE 1895 z^fio <5L-^ Copyright, 1895, BY WILDIE THAYER. To the Reader As the message came directly From sweet Nature's heart to mine, May it by some subtle process Gain access to heart of thine. PREFACE. PREFACE. The child should be allowed to recite the simple lesson he has learned, and should not be harshly criticized or silenced by his elders, and if he studies lovingly and faithfully we may expect better things of him in the future. Bear this in mind, critic, and remember that the writer of these poems is only a child of Nature who realizes the immaturity of these her first poems. It is only after much hesitation that this little book is given to the public, for many of the poems in it were written in early childhood. Critics will no doubt discover abundance of mistakes, but is it too much to ask that these may be kindly overlooked, and that the readers will instead accept the lessons which the writer has tried to recite, and forgive the blundering way in which they are expressed ? if the fragrance of a genuine love of Nature inspires those who read these first poems to love Nature more, to watch more closely her various moods, and to find hidden beauty in everything, they have accomplished their mission. WlLDIE THAYER. Bates College, Letviston, Me. May ^o, 189$. INDEX. INDEX. A Shell . Nature Haunted . Be Sunny . The Brook and the Wind Ambition's Hill Gloomy . Opportunity A Memory Trials Reflections. I. Reflections. II. Listen In the Moonlight Step by Step A Dialogue To the Flowers To the Stars King Sunshine's Choice Her Bridal Vei A Tree and a Flower Autumn . King Winter The Seasons Death To a Bereaved One Dreams The Fern . The Wood-nymph's Son The Three Wishes Some Say . PAGE I 3 4 6 7 9 12 13 14 i6 17 19 21 22 25 26 29 30 31 34 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 48 50 52 INDEX. PAGE A Few Wild Flowers • Sin .... Who Doubts? . Life's Morning and Evening A Lesson from the Flowers The Mountain Breeze and the Tiresome Sometimes The March Wind The Advent of Music Setting Sun Growth in Heaven Satan Why? Just a Cabin Sweet Home Weavers • Air-castles Goldenrod •Lady Chesby Freaky Easter Lily Discontent The Ocean's Bride At the Seaside . Vacillating Sabbath in the Mountains To a Mountain Brook Daily Bread Twilight . Midnight • The Drunkard's Wife Bona and Mala . The Reason Why Whippoorwill Lilac Mary Ocean Breeze INDEX. PAGE Heaven • . . • . . . . ii4 The Child . 115 Strange .... . 116 White Violets . • 117 Blue Violets . 118 Cynicism .... 119 Land of Imagination . 120 Trust .... 121 Money .... 122 Presentiment 123 Don't Be Deceived 124 Dandelion .... 125 Day and Night . 126 In Union Is Strength . 128 A Special Place • 129 Anywhere 130 Showers of Blessing 130 To a Pansy 131 To a Pansy 132 Unheard Melodies 133 A Lesson .... 134 Stamped .... 135 Nature Breaks Her Fast 136 An Object Lesson 137 Hate .... 140 Missionary Lesson from Nature 141 Thanksgiving 142 Story of Life 143 Rest and Work . 145 Atlantic .... 146 Cloud-Edens .... 147 Introspection 151 a 3l)etl. Pink-tinted shell, Thy history tell, tell it all to me ; 1 bend my ear, A sound I hear. An echo of the sea. Like memory's gleams, Like mystic dreams, A throb of Ocean's heart ; Thy secret well Thou guardest, shell, 1 know not what thou art. To Nature dear I bend my ear, To hear her secret sweet ; But, like the shell. She will not tell, I hear her heart's loud beat. To Nature given A sound of heaven ; It throbs within her breast ; O bend thine ear. And thou shalt hear An echo of your guest. A SHELL. The breath of God Is in the sod, His life is in the air; I feel, I feel ! He does reveal That he is everywhere NATURE. Nature. Do you ask me to tell you of Nature When flowers are under your feet ? If you'll look you can trace her quite clearly In petals of flowers so sweet. Do you ask me to tell you of Nature When in stillness and darkness of ni^ht ? Just see ! She is written above you In stars shining coldly and bright. Do you ask me to tell you of Nature When her manner seems lonely and cold ? List to the wind in its moaning, 'Twill all Nature's sorrow unfold. Do you ask me to tell you of Nature When her beauty seems almost divine? List to the birds, they sing of her; Their language is sweeter than mine. O listen for Nature ; she's calling From tiniest dainty flower-bells. No one can tell you of Nature, For Nature her own story tells. HAUNTED. Hacinted. Children's hearts are filled with fancies, Filled with visions, phantoms fair, Magic pictures, drawn by fairies. Hung in castles made of air. Through their hearts roam ghosts impatient, Thoughts of future, dreams of fame. Children's hearts are light and merry. But are haunted all the same. Hearts of youth are strangely haunted ; Ghosts from fairy-land appear : And they whisper gently, " There are Brighter spirits lurking near." Thoughts of life, of love, and passion Haunt their hearts, ah, sadly true! Hearts of youth are fiery, loving. But are haunted through and through. Hearts of manhood, filled with power. Passion, life, are haunted yet — Haunted by lamenting spirits. Singing threnodes of regret. Manhood then rebels, defiant ; Shuts the heart and veils the eyes, But soon trembles, fearing, grieving, As the dread ghosts stronger rise. HAUNTED. Aged hearts ? How are they haunted ? Ah, by visions of the past ! By the restless thoughts of present, By a hand descending fast, By the world of spirits round them, Which they feel, but cannot see, By the fear to trust the slumber Which will take them there to be. BE SUNNY. ^e 3annv Does the world seem void of beauty ? Does your home with shade aboun-d ? Then this is your binding duty : Be the brightest thing around. THE BROOK AND THE WIND. Tl)e ^roo^ and tl)e Wind. Said the brook to the wind, *' Do you not envy me, As 1 flow to the ocean, So merry and free ? I'm as gay as the birds That fly over my head. The sky is my covering. The earth is my bed. '' And people, when passing. Will often draw near. To hear my sweet voice So ringing and clear ; And wish that they too Were so happy and free. Ho, loud, harsh-voiced wind, Do you not envy me ? " The wind loudly whistled, And said, '' My dear friend, Why you I should envy 1 don't comprehend. You run to the ocean Confined in a bowl. While I've the great world Beneath my control. THE BROOK AND THE WIND. *' 'Tis true that your voice Is ringing and clear, But no one can hear you Unless he draws near. My breath moves the world, I am free, I am wild. Pray, why should I envy You, Brook, simple child ?" There was silence a moment, As over the world Queen Night her damp mantle Of darkness unfurled. The heavens were darkened. The stars forth did peep ; Then, the brook and the wind Sang each other to sleep. AMBITION'S HILL. Ambition'3 MUt. Impatient soul, on yonder height Thy airy castle stands ; Around it floats a dazzling light, Within are fairy bands. The way is long and drear, I know, But fame and wealth are there ; Come, gird thy armor on and go, And gain thy castle fair. Why linger in the vale and sigh? Others have reached the goal. Come, lay thy fears aside and fly ; Haste thee, thou trembling soul ! This lowly vale hath nothing grand. And little great or new ; But toil and reach the airy land. And find a glorious view. Thou seest the storm-cloud brooding o'er, Thou tremblest at the sight ; Thou hear'st the latent thunder roar, Seest thou the stars of light? Then know that he who climbs the hill. And conquers in the fight, And journeys near the storm-clouds will Be nearer stars of lisht. AMBITION'S HILL. Courage, my soul ! Ascend the hill. Bravo ! You're on the track. Let thirst for fame thy being thrill, And do not turn thee back. Faster, O fast, impatient soul ! Thy castle gleams afar ! Nearer, ah nearer, to the goal. Follow the guiding star ! The storms roar, the lightning gleams. The way is dark and long ; Dreary the toilsome journey seems ; O soul, be very strong. Onward, heed not the chasms deep ; Surmount them, soul, be brave ; And journey on while thousands sleep And thousand others rave. Hurrah ! A light above the world Dawns for thy waiting soul ; Dispelled are clouds and storms and night, For thou hast reached thy goal. The weary way thou hast o'ercome, Now gaze adown the vale ; Around thee fame and praises hum. But hear thy followers wail. AMBITION'S HILL. Come, rest thee in thy castle fair ; Let weapons round thee fly. Look calmly on, thy home is rare. Thy resting-place is high. Thou gazest down the weary way ; Adown Ambition's hill. Ah, soul, why dost thou gaze and say, 'M'm discontented still ''? GLOOMY. Everything looks wrong to-day ! I am cross-eyed in a way ! Nothing proper is at all ! A parhelion is Old Sol ! OPPORTUNITY. Opportanit>5. Do you see that butterfly ? Catch it, grasp it, while 'tis nigh. A MEMORY. (1 Aemor\5. The night is lone and drear, The fierce wind whistles shrill ; At every rustle that 1 hear With fear my pulses thrill. A form from out the past Before me smiling stands ; With longing gaze she holds me fast, And beckons with her hands. "Fiend!" I cry. '' Why raise again The dreams I had forgot ? Why waken joy and grief and pain ? Depart ! Torment me not ! " Nay, I'll not go forth with thee. Back to thy resting-place ! Ah, haunting memory, let me be ! Go, hide from me thy face. " Back to thy weeping willows go. With all thy secrets hence ; Haste to thy grave, there lay thee low, And rest in permanence. A MEMORY. 15 '* But stay ! O lovely child, I cannot let thee go ; Stay with me, for the night is wild, Hark, how the rough winds blow ! '' Bide with me through the lonely night, Stay while the mad winds rave ; But when appears the morning light I'll scourge thee to thy grave." i6 TRIALS. Trials. Sweet is the song The Christian sings: " Trials are shadows Of angels' wings." REFLECTIONS. Kje:fleCtion3. PART I. " There is no God," the scoffer says, ** No God, no hell, no heaven ; Worthless, unnumbered are our days, No Christ the world was given. " Earth came by chance, and all Within it is a breath ; We come, we live here, then we fall, The end of us is death. ** Nothing is lasting, good or ill ; Who ever saw a soul ? The earth exists, it always will ; For e'er the years will roll. " We are. I grant 'tis best to live A moral life; and then Through life, in death, we will receive Favor from fellow-men. REFLECTIONS. *' Live well, 'tis best ; then bravely die, Nor superstitious seem. Whether we smile or deeply sigh, This life is but a dream. '* We scorn the superstitious ones Of many years agone, Years hence, when ashes are our bones. Our children men are grown ; ''Our wild beliefs, our thoughts of heaven, Of God, of Christ, of soul — The same derision will be given. Still on the years will roll. '' Then throw the word called God away. Untrue its writers, preachers; Be honest, moral, but be gay. Earth is the best of teachers. '' If one should ask who rules our earth. And whence this power so broad ; Then turn and ask him in your mirth, ' Whence came the wondrous God ? ' '* An instant, just, from life to death ; Creation is a dream. Live on, be moral, yield your breath, Nor superstitious seem." REFLECTIONS. -ig PART II. " There is a God," the Christian says, '* A God eternal, true; Who knows our thoughts, numbers our days, Who cares for me and you. " Who made the earth, created all Within it by a breath ; Who placed us here, we cannot fall Into eternal death. *' Death is a bridge, and when we stand Upon it we may trust In God to guide us by his hand. He promised, and he must. '* I trust in God, and peace I find ; A Saviour died for me. I groped in darkness, I was blind ; Christ came, and now I see. *' And yet sometimes I doubt, 1 feel My own foundation fall ; 'Mid surging passions now I reel. Yet God is all in all. ** I pray, and Jesus can becalm A troubled sou'l at will ; He with me, I can see no harm ; He speaks,, and all is still. REFLECTIONS. ** I know the Word of God is good, It satisfies my soul. It has for years, for ages, stood ; Will stand while ages roll. " There is a power, mighty, broad ; This scoffers will allow. But whence this wondrous power of God We cannot answer now. " Nor should we seek to know our God. A heathen's god is slim ; If we could understand our God We could not worship him. " Let scoffers laugh, I'll trust in God. He is my help, my guide ; I'm safe above, beneath the sod, A Christ for me has died." LISTEN. When you know not what to do, When you're tempted, faint, and weak, Fall upon your knees and listen. Listen, listen, God will speak. He will give you rest and quiet, He will make your heart rejoice ; When you're weak and heavy-laden, Listen for the Heavenly Voice. IN THE MOONLIGHT. In tl)e ?\oontt^I)t. The day now is ending, The dew is descending, The shadows are flitting. Swift to and fro : While above I see faintly, Soft, downy clouds quaintly Roll in masses as fair And as pure as the snow. In the moonlight I'm sitting. My thoughts backward flitting To the days of my childhood, How quickly they fled ! Like the shadows around me They passed, then youth found me ; Joyous youth, bright it seemed. Like the moon overhead. Now with me it travels, No secret unravels ; What lies in my future, Of woe or of weal. Whether full of earth's treasures. Of sorrow or pleasures. The pathway before me. It cannot reveal. IN THE MOONLIGHT. 23 A phantom appeareth ! Ah, see, now it neareth ! "Speak, speak, brilliant spirit, And tell me your name." " My name is Ambition, And from your position I gladly will lead you To highways of fame. " Fame's path is before you. Its riches tower o'er you. In wealth and in greatness Your life may abound. O come, let me lead you. On praise I will feed you. With chant of your genius The world shall resound." Now another ghost stealeth, And quietly kneeleth Before me, and bids me Attention to give. " O trust me," she pleadeth, *' It is I your life needeth. To guide you and cheer you While striving you live. IN THE MOONLIGHT. '' Bid Ambition leave you, She only would grieve you. Be content, and seek not To be great, just be good. The massive trees charm thee, And almost alarm thee ; But the sweetness of flowers Tells their own neighborhood.' Her voice sweetly trembled. Ambition dissembled; Ambition and Lowliness Cannot agree. But Lowliness cheered me. And till slumber neared me Her wise words of sweetness She whispered to me. Anon they are flitting. When idly I'm sitting. Lowliness will kneel humbly, Ambition will tower With visions of splendor ; Lowliness whispers tender, '' 'Tis sweetness, not greatness. The charm of the flower." STEP BY STEP. 25 3tep h% ^tep. Suppose a man should wish to cross A stream, and in his pride Should with one frantic leap attempt To reach the other side ; Suppose he did this foolish act, When stepping stones were nigh ; He then would meet his just reward If he should sink and die. Suppose a man should with a leap, While standing on low ground, Attempt to reach on ladder tall The very highest round. Suppose — suppose— why, I will speak The truth without deduction : He'd surely fall, and break his neck. And merit his destruction. 26 A DIALOGUE. A Diatogae. " Good morning, sir, to you. Pray, why are you keeping Such early hours, sir ? And why are you weeping ? ** Pray tell me, kind sir, Why roaming these hours ? And why do you gather So many wild flowers ?" " Ah, madam, my neighbor, Who of all was the best, Kind, good, and obliging. Has gone to his rest. " His death was so sudden. In peace now he's sleeping. I loved my good neighbor, That's why I am weeping." "Dry your eyes, my good man, I am sure you can find Other neighbors as honest As he was, and kind." A DIALOGUE. ** No, ma'am. Such a neighbor Is not to be found, Should I search till I died This wide world around." '* Tell me, sir, did you ever. While your neighbor was living, Gather flowers for him, as To him dead you are giving } " ' You loved him,' you say ; ' He was good,' you have said. Did you say to him living What you say of him dead ^ '* You answer not. Ah, More bitter you weep. Your neighbor knows not. From earth he's asleep. '* Grieve on, cease not weeping ; Pluck flowers while you may ; Talk on, spend your praises On a body of clay. *' But if you had given The half of such praise While he lived, 'twould have cheered him, Like sunbeams' bright rays. A DIALOGUE. " You say I am cruel Thus harshly to speak ; Well, maybe I am, But my comfort Is weak. '' No tear-drop of sorrow Can I weep for you ; But the words which I speak You acknowledge are true. '' Hear me now ere I leave you, To pass on my way : Gather flowers for the living, And do not, I pray, V '' Wait till your good neighbors Are gone to their graves, To pass o'er their failures. Their virtues to praise." TO THE FLOWERS. 29 To tl)e Flowery. Sweet flowers, whene'er I see you, It seems, I know not why. That you are heavenly footprints Of angels passing by. TO THE STARS. To tl)e atars. Supermundane Gems on high, You are jewels Of the sky. KING SUNSHINE'S CHOICE. Pjtng 3an3l)ine'5 Cl)oiCe. " I will choose me a bride," said King Sunshine, *'A dainty young bride from the flowers, To partake of my joys and my pleasures. And to cheer me in lonelier hours. *' But my bride must be smiling and fragrant, And youthful and gentle and fair. Be refined, unassuming, and healthful. With beauty both restful and rare." ''Then choose me," cried the rose. '*! am fragrant. Your bride I right gladly would be." '' Though you're lovely and sweet," said King Sunshine, *'Your boldness unfits you for me." Then the lily, the sweet, stately lily. Bowed low, and with eagerness cried, " See me, am I not fair and lovely ? Choose me, glowing king, for your bride." A dark frown for an instant o'ershadowed The face of King Sunshine serene. Then he answered, " By no means, proud lily. Would I make you my bride and my queen." 32 KING SUNSHINE'S CHOICE. " Good King Sunshine, see me," cried a pansy. ** Is not my face lovely and sweet ? Should you choose me your queen and flower-bride Your life would be truly complete." With a smile then King Sunshine made answer, *' Though your face is as bright as a star. And your ways are both gentle and winning, You are too gaily colored by far." ** See me," sighed the daisy. '' I'm modest, Your bride 1 am longing to be." ''Silence, daisy ; you're both rude and rustic, And much too uncultured for me." Then a voice low and pleadingly whispered. And looking down, quite at his feet, The great king saw a dear little violet. Half-calling in tones faint and sweet. " Dainty fairy," he said, " you are pretty. And yet you are slender and small ; So, you see, for a bride to King Sunshine You are not adapted at all." Then the king, who was thus vainly seeking A bride suited just to his taste. Saw beneath a scant covert of green leaves A beautiful, smiling, sweet face. KING SUNSHINE'S CHOICE. 33 Not a word said this modest pink flower, But the king knew by instinct her name ; And she trembled in joy and confusion At hearing him gently exclaim : "Ah, beauties, you cannot escape me, I see you there hiding so low, And I choose you my bride." So we call her Arbutus — ah, beauties — you know. 34 HER BRIDAL VEIL. Her ^rtdal Veil. In a castle of old England Lived a maiden young and fair, With a face of wondrous beauty Crowned with curls of golden hair. And her heart was pure and guileless, Like the beauty of her face ; Sweeter maid was ne'er created Than Lord Erskine's daughter Grace. Poor but proud was Rupert Erskine, Of a grand and noble name. A rich husband for his daughter Was his first and highest aim. But Grace loved a humble artist. And his image filled her heart. He was poor in worldly riches. Yet would give his life for art. " Grace, my child, come here a moment, I have something 1 would say," Called Lord Erskine to his daughter. One morn in the month of May. Quickly from among the flowers, With a smile upon her face. And with both hands full of roses. Came his lovely daughter Grace. HER BRIDAL VEIL. 35 Said the stern voice of her father, ''Grace, I have a letter here From Sir Henry True ; he wants you To become his wife, my dear. He is wealthy, he is famous. And an artist of degree. I would choose him from all others; Sure your answer yes will be." ** It is no. I do not love him. And my heart is not my own ; I have given it to Arthur, Poor, unknown, brave Arthur Rhone. He too is a skilful artist, And he is a noble man. I have something I would ask you. Father, listen to my plan. " Tell them both to paint a picture. Bid them choose their own design ; Tell them it is I desire it. Tell them that the plan is mine. And that he whose painted picture Will but suit my father's taste. He shall have as prize of merit Even me, your daughter Grnce 36 HER BRIDAL VEIL. How he laughed, her haughty father. " Let him paint for very life, He can ne'er produce a picture Which could win you for his wife." But his angry look soon vanished^ As amusement took its place. And he said, ''As you desire it, I will grant you this thing, Grace." This consent, so quickly given. Made the daughter's heart rejoice, For she knew her noble father Would with fairness make his choice. Back she went among the flowers. With a heart quite gay and light. Surely birds ne'er sang so sweetly, And the sun ne'er shone so bright. How they worked, those two young artists Each desired to do his best. Their designs at last were chosen, All their skill put to the test. And the prize, it spurred them onward, The reward was one for life. And they each loved sweet Grace dearly. Each desired her for his wife. HER BRIDAL VEIL. 37 Rupert Erskine's house was crowded When the test at last was tried ; People wondered at this contest For a fair and beauteous bride. Great indeed the consternation, For the earl was known to fame ; People wondered, people questioned, What on earth could be his aim. First Sir Henry brought his picture ; Every one it seemed to suit. It was rarely rich and perfect, 'Twas of autumn-tinted fruit. As they gazed, the birds drew near it, Feeling naught of natural fright, And Lord Erskine was enraptured At that perfect painted sight. Surely this would win his daughter ; Arthur Rhone could never make View like this, so grand, so perfect ; Surely this the prize would take. As for Grace^ she calmly waited. Did not doubt young Arthur's skill ; To the breathless praise she listened, Listened, hoping, praying still. HER BRIDAL VEIL. There was silence for a moment ; Arthur Rhone came through the crowd, \n his arms he bore a picture, To the earl he lowly bowed. '' Here," exclaimed the earl in anger, '^ Take the veil from off your view! " '' Nay, my lord," the artist answered ; 'M shall leave that work for you." The earl frowned, tried to remove it. *' Well, by all the stars that shine, 'Tis a painted veil, 'tis perfect, Looks like silk, of texture fine ! " And the people did not wonder. When he said, '' This suits my taste. You have won her fairly, bravely ; You may have my daughter Grace." Said young Arthur, freely, kindly. As he took Lord Erskine's hand, *' I have won the fairest lady To be found in all our land." Henry True now greeted Arthur, As his manly cheek grew pale, " You deserve your bride, my brother, You designed her bridal veil." A TREE AND A FLOWER. 39 A Tree and a Ptouer. (IVfiat the tree said:) " To bear the wind and rain and sleet, And wintry blasts, I'm fated ; To many blows I am exposed Because I'm elevated." A flower, nestling at his feet, Could hear the monarch grumble. And whispered low, in sweet content, ''I'm safe because I'm humble." AUTUMN. Aatamn. Who that incendiary That sets the forests burning ? Fair Summer, bowing, answered low, '' My brother is returning." KING WINTER. Pjing Winter. The Autumn wailed, " I felt his breath." The birds departed, frightened. The heavens frowned, and all the earth In chilling terror whitened. The flowers clasped his frozen hands, And bended low to greet him ; The leaves, all clad in colors gay. Then sallied forth to meet him. King Winter came, but gave the earth A coldly warm protection ; Till Spring commanded, " Rise, depart; 1 am the resurrection." THE SEASONS. Tl)e 3ea3on3. 'Tis Autumn; the forests are burning with beauty. A veil of gay figures is over our land, Which soon must be lifted, O beautiful Autumn, True symbol of life here, so fleeting, so grand. A wailing is heard through the mountains and valleys, 'Tis Winter, the flowers bend low at his breath ; His cold hand descendeth, his presence appeareth, O cruel, cold Winter, pure symbol of death. The sunlight appeareth, cold Winter is yielding. Wings rush overhead, sweet bird-voices sing. The flowers all rise. Of the glad resurrection Is Spring a true symbol, the life-giving Spring. More sunlight, more music, more fathomless glory. More life and more flowers and more to unfold ; If to us is given a symbol of heaven, 'Tis Summer, whose beauties can never be told. DEATH. 43 DeatI). He surely will come, Your soul is his prize ; He's coming to take it, So just close your eyes. And yet do not fear. He is gentle, is death ; All he asks you to do Is to give him your breath. And then he will take you To the home you have made ; So just close your eyes, And don't be afraid. TO A BEREAVED ONE. To a bereaved One. And is your loved one resting ? And do you almost fear Your heart will break with sorrow ? Why should I try to cheer ? Ah, weak indeed the comfort Which my poor wisdom gives ; I'll simply beckon you to heaven, For there thy dear one lives. DREAMS. 45 Dreamy. Weary of your life, you say ? Dark your pathway seems ? Once your life was glad and gay ! Then thank God for dreams. 46 THE FERN. TI)e Pern. Violets and fairy mayflowers, Buttercups and daisies too, Roses, lilies, clover, pansies. All are magical, 'tis true. But my choice in the botanic Is a species never tall. Grows in humid soil, is verdant, But is not a flower at all. 'Tis not popular nor petted, Is not beautiful nor coy ; Yet consider it, and you will All these adjectives employ — Dainty, gentle, restful, winning. Balmy, comely, fresh, and sweet ; Gifted with the grace of fairies And with symmetry complete ; Never haughty nor disdainful, But of graceful, modest mien ; Not high-colored, but contented With a dress of simple green. Though not loved by all or many, Yet to me it is the best ; For to see it is refreshing, hi its presence there is rest. THE FERN. In the forest you may find it, You may find it in the dale, And when lonely sit beside it And contentment you'll inhale ; For its balm then do I love it, And this lesson true I learn, There is rest and sweet enchantment In the shadow of a fern. 48 THE WOOD-NYMPH'S SONG. Tl)e Woo(I-n^mpI)'3 3^^S' In the early hours of morning, When the flowers are all asleep, While the moon, though very faintly. Doth her watch o'er slumber keep; While the grass with dew is sparkling, And the bees and birds are still, Then I love to roam the forests, Love to wander at my will. When the sun, high in the heavens. Gold is throwing everywhere. While the flowers their bells are ringing In the balmy, scented air ; While the birds their songs are singing. Which to charm me never fail. Then I love to roam the forests, Nature's beauty to inhale. In the evening, in the twilight. When the birds to rest have gone. When the nightly dew is falling. And the world seems sad and lone; When the only singer near me Is the noisy whippoorwill, Then 1 love to roam the forests, And to wander where I will. THE WOOD-NYMPH'S SONG. 49 In the solemn hours of midnight, When the flowers are all asleep, While the moon in all her radiance Doth her ceaseless vigil keep ; When I too am lost in slumber, Knowing not what Nature tells. Then I love to roam in dreamland. Through the forest's woody dells. 50 THE THREE WISHES. Tl)e TI)ree Wisl)es. ** If I should see a fairy, mamma, And it should speak to me. And would give me what 1 wanted, Whatever it might be, I'd surely ask for wealth, dear mamma. That I might dress so fine ; With wealth, position high, and jewels, A happy life be mine." '' What would you ask for,, sister. Should you the fairy see. And it gave the same privilege To you as well as me ? " ** 1 should ask for beauty, Gracie, Such as was never seen. More lovely than a butterfly. More graceful than a queen." "And now," said little Ida, The youngest of the three, '' I'll tell what I would ask for. Should I the fairy see — I would ask for faith and love To believe on Jesus' name ; I ask not treasures of this world. Beyond them is my aim." THE THREE WISHES. 51 '* My children," said the mother, '' Your sister asks the best. No wealth or beauty can e'er equal Love, hope, and heavenly rest ; The wish of Ida is to be Safe in the peaceful fold. And this is better, better far. Than beauty, silver, or gold." 52 SOME SAY. Some say that love is like the rain, Which falls until the leaves And every object round about A beauty new receives ; That, if the rain is absent long, The leaves will droop to die, For nothing but another shower Their thirst can satisfy. Some say that love is like a vine. Which lives, and grows, and clings, And reaches out its tendrils fine, Embracing many things. Then if perchance an object falls. About which it has twined. It still will seek, and reach, and long Another one to find. Some say that love is like the sun. Which bursts the clouds apart. And finds the morning-glory closed. But pierces to her heart. Until her face is all aglow With sunshine warm and bright; When in an ecstasy complete She hides her face in fright. SOME SAY. 53 If any one should come to me, To ask me which was right — Whether true love was like the rain, Or vine, or sunshine bright — I'm sure I would not answer. For my heart withholds its story. But, somehow, I would rather be Loved like the morning-glory. 54 A FEW WILD FLOWERS. A Feu Wild Plover^. Once some tiny rustic flowers Grew in humid, verdant soil, Envied not blooms cultivated, Knew not weariness or toil. Held the sunshine in the daytime, In the evening held the dew ; Happily they gaily danced to Every tune the breezes blew. As I spied them how they trembled. Quickly bending low they lay ; Then with happy tears their faces Sparkled as I went away. When I turned and gently plucked them, How their faces pallid grew ! To a sick friend then I gave them. Much she praised their dainty hue, Praised their fragrance and their sweetness. And their beauty, rustic, rare ; Then I placed them by her bedside. Watered, tended them with care. A FEW WILD FLOWERS. 55 Soon I took them, damp and dripping, From their place beside her bed, And arranged and placed them gently In the fingers of the dead. As 1 bended o'er my dear friend, Pressed a kiss on her cold cheek. And beheld the flowers held closely. In my mind thus did I speak : " Sweet love's tokens, gifts from heaven, You have soothed and eased her pain, You have cheered a heart one moment, So you have not lived in vain, With her you have crossed death's portal, And in heaven you'll bloom again." 56 SIN. yxn. A rose there grew, all white and sweet, Its spotless beauty was complete. An insect came, and in a day Took perfect purity away. WHO DOUBTS? 57 (1)1)0 D0Ql)t3? Who doubts the world exists ? Who doubts that it revolves ? Who doubts the shining of the sun ? But who the mystery solves ? Who doubts the stars and planets are ? Who doubts that breezes sigh ? Who says there are no clouds or storms ? Who never saw the sky ? Who says that he has walked on earth And never touched the sod ? Who lives, and breathes, and feels, and yet Can disbelieve his God ? 58 LIFE'S MORNING AND EVENING. I5tfe'^ ?\orning and Evening. Morning. Sparkling faces, merry hearts, Gaily ringing voices. Singing songs of sweetness till Many a soul rejoices. Evening. Placid faces, happy hearts, Voices low and tender, Breathing words which jewels are In a crown of splendor. A LESSON FROM THE FLOWERS. 59 A Iye33on from tl)e Ftovers. I was sitting in a forest, Underneath a spreading tree. Golden sunbeams, bright and cheery, Freely gave their life to me. Breezes gently fanned my forehead, All around was sweet and gay, Yet in spite of Nature's brightness, I was sad this happy day. Thoughtful was I ; o'er me feelings Rushed with misery intense. What is life? Ah, all around me Is but mystery all dense. With a veil is heaven hidden. Earth is dreary and forlorn ; Better had no life been given. Better had I ne'er been born. By my side some tiny flowers, Violets all pure and white. Filled the air with sweetest perfume. Welcome were they to my sight. " Sweetest flowers which bloom," I whispered, " Fairy forms with angel's breath. Are you glad that you are living? Are you not afraid of death?" A LESSON FROM THE FLOWERS. Suddenly the gentlest music, As of ringing silver bells, Filled the air with sweetest accents. Echoed through those woody dells. " We have listened," said the violets, " To your sad, complaining voice, While around, the sun, the breezes, And the birds all cried, ' Rejoice ! ' ** You have praised our breath of sweetness, You are glad that we abound. Yet our fragrance ne'er had cheered you Had we stayed beneath the ground ; Had we hidden from God's sunlight We would ne'er had life to give. Darkness bound us, light has found us, 'Tis for others that we live. " Death we fear not, Christ has risen. Even so do we arise. Every day our life goes floating Onward, upward, to the skies. Listen to us while the secret Of the flowers we now unroll ; We, like you, are made immortal. And our fragrance is our soul." A LESSON FROM THE FLOWERS. 6i Suddenly the sun shone brightly, Suddenly the world seemed fair, Bird-songs seemed like angel's music. Beauties floated in the air. ''Angel messengers," I whispered, " You have taught me how to live ; Life is given me for others, Life is given me to give." 62 THE MOUNTAIN BREEZE AND THE OCEAN BREEZE. Tl)e Aoctntain l^ree^e and tl)e Ocean ^vzzr:^z. ** Happy am I," said the breeze of the mountain, As it saluted the breeze of the sea, " Happy am I, o'er the mountains I whisper, Whistling as gay as the birds in my glee. '* Noble old mountains, like arms they encircle, Sweet benedictions they seem to let fall. Showering their blessings on those in the valley. Guarding, protecting, and caring for all. ** Glorious old mountains, they tell of God's glory. Small seems the earth ; O, my life is so free ! Happy am I, the breeze of the mountain. Are you so happy, sweet breeze of the sea?" Sweetly this answer the ocean breeze whispered: *' Happy, O perfectly happy, am I. Though no grand mountains 1 have to inspire me, Above and around me I see the blue sky. " Earth seems so great to me, breeze of the moun- tain. Stretching far out, out away from my sight ; Then the old ocean forever inspires me. Happy am I ; O, my life is so bright. THE MOUNTAIN BREEZE AND THE OCEAN BREEZE. 63 ** Heaven, like a tent, seems to guard and protect me. Ocean around me and heaven above, Happy am I, in a tent of God's mercy. Guarded by heaven and filled with his love." Sweetly then whispered the breezes together, " Happiness fills us wherever we live ; God gives his life to us, freely, abundantly. This life we love to his creatures to give. "Mountains and oceans all tell of his greatness. Heaven and earth join his love to proclaim. Praise him, ye nations ! Ye angels, adore him ! Infinite greatness and love is his name." TIRESOME SOMETIMES. Tiresome ^ometime^. Nature, towering, proudly asked, ** Do you not admire me? " " Hush," I cried, ''you know I do, But just now you tire me." THE MARCH WIND. 65 Tl)e narcl) Wind. Hear the March wind, Hke a monarch it passes ; See the great trees in humility bend. Shrill is the voice ; of sorrow or gladness, What is the message it brings you, my friend? Is the March wind to you rough or forbidding? Is it a voice of hate or of love? Does it lament with you over your sorrow? Or does it call you to mansions above? Does it e'er seem that the wind is the wailing Of the lost spirits departed from earth? Or does it seem as the cruel rejoicing Of the glad demons all screaming with mirth? Sometimes it seems, when the fierce winds are calling. That 'tis the voice of the poor soulless trees, Calling to heaven for a soul to enliven. And make them forever as free as the breeze. Sometimes the wind seems the voice of ambition. Calling me up to my visions of joy. Bidding me climb to my brilliant air-castles, Where no ill winds can ever annoy. 66 THE MARCH WIND. Sometimes it seems like a fierce rushing army, Sometimes it seems like the spirit of God ; Sometimes it seems like the archangel's trumpet Calling the flowers to rise from the sod. Many and sweet are the fierce March wind lessons ; Each soul translates in a different voice ; Nature alone has the key-note of meaning. Free as the wind let us rise and rejoice. THE ADVENT OF MUSIC. 67 TI)e Advent of Aa3iC. Come with me to Eden's garden, To the time when Adam first Tasted the forbidden apple, Making all the world accursed. Suddenly a darkness gathering Shades the beauteous garden now. And a voice is sternly asking, ''Adam, Adam, where art thou? '* Not as usual dost thou hasten My approval to obtain ; Hast thou gratified the passion That 1 warned thee to restrain? Hast thou tasted of the apple? Didst thou not my word believe? Hither, Adam, from thy arbor. And thy sentence now receive." Then together from their covert. Eve and Adam, hand in hand. Guiltily approach their Maker, And before him silent stand. Waiting to receive his judgment, God their inmost thoughts can read. Sternly, pityingly spake he : *' Guilty art thou, man, indeed. 68 THE ADVENT OF MUSIC. "Guilty art thou, first of women, Guilty, there is no reprieve ; For thy crime all earth henceforward Sin and death must e'er receive. All divine and heavenly beauties Which I placed on earth for thee Must to heaven be now transported, Never more on earth to be." " Nay, not so," cried guilty Adam. " Let one gift from thee be given, To make earth divine, to cause men To love beauty, to love heaven. Grant my prayer, O just Creator, But one gift from heaven above, But one gift from God to mortals, As a proof of heavenly love." Sweetly spoke our great Creator, " Adam, I will grant thy prayer ; I from heaven will send a token Which will lighten all your care ; Which will fill all heaven with sweetness, When all things from earth have passed ; Which will purify your being ; Which eternally shall last." THE ADVENT OF MUSIC. 69 As he spoke, a gentle murmur Sweetly trembled everywhere. Divine music filled all nature, Filled the heavens, filled the air ; Thrilled the soul of Eve, of Adam, Filled the heart of every bird ; Filled the brooks and filled the breezes, Music everywhere was heard. Music then was God's great token, Music was the gift he gave, Telling of his love and pardon. Telling of his power to save. Music share we with the angels. And, when all from earth is passed, Music only of earth's blessings Through eternity shall last. SETTING SUN. getting- 3an. The sun departed, blushing At the crimes he had unfurled. 1 should think, as old as Sun is, He would understand the world, GROWTH IN HEAVEN. (irowtl) in Heaven. There came a soul to earth, A mother's heart was cheered ; Earth seemed to gain new beauty, And brighter Ufe appeared. The soul was called to heaven, Earth tried its flight to stay ; God whispered gently, firmly, ** I give, I take away." A mother's heart was broken, Earth lost for her its light. Her child, her life, her darling. Was taken from her sight. '' Come back, my child," she whispered, It seemed the child-soul heard. The mother breathless listened, And caught a whispered word — "■ I dwell in fairer places. And heavenly sights I see. 1 cannot come to you again, But you may come to me." That loving, distant echo. Those words so sweet and mild, Fell softly on the mother's heart. And she was reconciled. GROWTH IN HEAVEN. A moment's time was over, And life through death was given. The mother left the friends of earth To meet the child in heaven. *' Where is my child? " she questioned. A form of beauty mild Approached her, then these words of love, *' Mother, 1 am your child." The mother gazed in wonder. Heard she her own child speak? Was this youth, noble, manly, Her babe so helpless, weak? The mother heart then understood That God's way was the best. She found her child as sweet and pure As when he left her breast. Her child had dwelt in innocence. Earth's paths had never trod ; Had thriven in light celestial. E'en in the light of God. Thrice happy child who early leaves. With wings unsoiled and white. Earth's ways of sorrow, grief, and sin. To dwell in heavenly light. SATAN. 73 datan. Satan is a spider, A crawling, base deceiver, Whose web cannot be copied By any other weaver ; And woe be to the little fly Who by him is allured, For a fly once spider-bitten Is never wholly cured. WHY? The birds sing when they greet me, The flowers lowly bow, The sun smiles upon me. The breezes fan my brow. The butterfly comes dancing. And from the forest still I hear a gentle murmur. The singing of the rill. When all these pretty people Greet me, and love me so. Why is my heart so sorrowful? Does anybody know? JUST A CABIN. 75 Ja^t a Cabin. Just a humble little cottage, Left to ruin and decay ; Just a lonely hut, forsaken, Witness of a better day. Shattered, tumbled-down, and homely. Just a wreck about to fall, Stands serenely by the roadside, Just a ruin, that is all. it may be some one is dreaming Of that wretched little place ; It may be a tear of sorrow Stains a sad and thoughtful face. It may be in some strange country. Orphaned, friendless, and alone, Some one dreams of that poor cottage, Whispering softly, " Home, sweet home. Ah, that cabin stands before us. Yet we know not what it means. We can see the stage forsaken. Past, unknown to us the scenes. Then we'll pass the cabin gently. As it stands before us lone, Years ago this humble dwelling Bore the honored name of " home." 76 SWEET HOME. 3weet Home. O that I might write a poem Of a sweet and rural valley, Where there stands a rustic cabin Which was once sweet home to me. There the flowers are ever blooming, There the evergreen entwineth, There the blithesome birds are singing. There I lived content and free. Let me paint for you a picture Of my Eden in this valley. Just a humble, rude log cabin Covered o'er with flowers and vines. On the right a clump of thickets Where the frisky squirrels sported ; On the left a shady arbor, Formed by massive, towering pines. Near the house, quite close beside it. Was a well, with curb moss-covered ; Near it was the oaken bucket, Leaning on it was the sweep ; Standing near the well, o'erbending. Was a maple tree gigantic, Whose immense, outspreading branches Seemed majestic watch to keep. SWEET HOME. Just behind the cot a river Danced and rippled in the sunlight, Where the fishes, unmolested. Swam in happiness content. Near the bank a sturdy shade-tree Stood. Its limbs a seat afforded. There in peace with book or pencil Many quiet hours I've spent. Come with me across the river, See the green and verdant meadow ; Here the birds and bees delighted, Here the sweet wild flowers grew. Here the violets, fair beauties. Shed their fragrance on the air, Here the daisies and the lilies Sported while the breezes blew. Linger with me here till sunset Tints the western sky with beauty. O behold the gold and crimson! Is it not a glorious sight ? Seems as if ten thousand ribbons Waved in freedom there to cheer us, And there reaches to the river, As it seems, a path of light. 78 SWEET HOME. O what beauty ! O what glory ! O that I might write a poem Which would all the hidden meaning Of this scene to you reveal. But they tell me a true poem Is a thought, and not a metre, So perchance you can imagine What I must perforce conceal. Noisy city, cease your riot. Let me wander back in thoughtland, Let me through the veil of dreaming See that cabin by the lea. In your realm. Imagination, Let me be again an inmate Of that rude and rough log cabin Which was once *' sweet home " to me. WEAVERS. 79 In the shadow, calmly weaving, Sat a woman old and gray. In her web a square was fashioned. True, her pattern was not gay, Yet the scenes her spirit cherished In her web were woven there ; No one knew except the weaver Why her pattern was a square. In the sunshine, slowly weaving In a web of beauty rare, Weaving sunbeams in a circle. Sat a woman young and fair. Faces greeted her, she wove them Firmly in her web ; it crowned Her at last, and many wondered How she wove her web so round. In the gaslight, laughing, weaving, Lovers watching her the while. Was a lady, gay and merry. Like a diamond was the style Of her web ; it brightly glistened. For its threads were all of gold. Yet the pictures interwoven Disappeared at every fold. 8o WEAVERS. In the gloaming, eager, weaving, Sadly smiling as she wove. Sat a woman old and saintly. In her web was sweetest love. Woven in a starlike pattern. Which like lances gleams afar; No one knew except the weaver Why her pattern was a star. AIR-CASTLES. Are you building air-castles For your recreation? An air-castle is good If it has a foundation. But lay the foundation Down solid and square ; Then build all the castles You want to of air. \ 82 GOLDENROD. (lotdenrod. All the roses, daisies, lilies. Shivered as they saw her face ; Clasped the hands of chilling Autumn, Bended low and left the place. But the stately, golden princess Stood unmoved before the sight ; Heeded not the wind's rough greeting, Held her shining head upright. 1 was passing by the wayside. And I saw her standing there. 1 could but admire her courage, Though she was not sweet nor fair. And I stopped and asked her, saying, '* Tell me, golden princess, pray, Why you, hard and unrelenting, Watch the flowers pass away. " Why you come as death's drear symbol. When of summer we're bereaved. Tell me, if you can remember, Whence your name you have received." GOLDENROD. 83 Proudly rose the fearless princess, Rose with royal, wondrous grace ; And she looked with gaze unflinchino- Boldy, sadly, in my face. Then she whispered, "Ah, you wrong me, No one sorrows more than I At the death of beauteous summer. For the flowers as they die. '•Do 1 seem to you so hardened? Am I cruel? Am I bold? Yet I have undaunted courage, And 1 have a heart of sold. •y '' Though I am of death a symbol, Let me tell you, ere we part. That I have the summer's sunshine Folded warmly to my heart. ''And I come to bring this lesson From the dusty wayside sod. Though it seems so sad and dreary. Death is but a golden rod! " 84 LADY CHESBY. In her chamber sat the lady, All unbound her raven tresses, Which o'er white and graceful shoulders In their silken beauty fell ; One could see she was not happy, And that sadness rested o'er her, Yet but few e'er heard her story. Which I am about to tell. Yet it is the same old story, That so oft has been repeated. In her youth a poor young lover Offered her his heart and hand ; And another, now her husband. Too had sought her final answer ; And she married him for riches. At her father's stern command. But to-night, alone and pensive. Lady Chesby's thoughts turned backward, Once again her heart grew happy. For she was again a child. Walking through the scented wildwood In the twilight dim and holy ; And she seemed to see young Harold, Hear his voice so low and mild. LADY CHESBY. 85 As he said, " Though they may part us, I still love you, Nellie darling; You are in my heart forever. Will be, till my latest breath." And she seemed to say in answer, *' Harold, though I wed another, I shall always love you truly, For my love is strong as death." Then she heard the cry of anguish, Of the last time that she met him : *' Good-by, good-by, little Nellie, With you now for aye I part ; But the locket that you gave me. With the lock of hair within it, Rests forever, aye forever, Near the beating of my heart." Interrupted was her musing As her maid appeared before her — " O my lady, may I tell you Something which occurred to-day? Lady Chesby smiled approval, **Ah yes, Dorcas, you may tell me ; I will listen with all interest To whate'er you have to say." LADY CHESBY. '* In the hospital, my lady, Where my sister Mary labors, A poor stranger there was carried, And to-day it was he died. But before his final summons, Ere his life from him was taken. He with low and feeble accents Called my sister to his side. "And he told her a strange story. How when he was gay and youthful He had loved a fair, sweet maiden, Who had given him her heart. And he had a tiny locket. With a lock of hair within it ; Which he said 'belonged to Nellie.' It was resting near his heart. *'And he said that from the hour He had parted from the maiden He had always worn that locket Near his heart, upon his breast ; And he told her, although Nellie Had been forced to wed another. Still he treasured her assurance She would always love him best. LADY CHESBY. 87 " That is all, dear Lady Chesby ; But why do you look so pallid ? Are you cold ? Why do you shiver ? Lady — O, what have I done ! " " No, no, Dorcas; nothing ails me, Only I am sad and lonely. And your story is peculiar. Now I wish to be alone." When alone she rose, and quickly Drew a shawl around her shoulders. And a cloak of warmth and thickness Folded she about her form ; Placed a veil upon her features. That no one might recognize her ; Then she fearlessly and boldly. Resolutely, faced the storm. Soon she knocked and was admitted To the chamber of the stranger Who had died that winter morning. Now was lying cold and dead. Lady Chesby at once knew him As her true rejected lover ; And her tears they fell in torrents. As she knelt beside the bed. LADY CHESBY. Deftly she obtained the locket Which was resting on his bosom ; Then again with heart of anguish Homeward she her steps did turn. Ah, the snowflakes seemed to blind her, And the wind to blow more fiercely, While around her, bright and mocking, Did the flaring gaslights burn. No one knew who was the lady Who had called that winter evening, Who, disguised, had sought admittance To the chamber of the dead ; Had obtained the golden locket That was resting on his bosom, And had wept with better anguish As she knelt beside the bed. No one knew that Lady Chesby, As she smiled in social circles. Had a gnawing, bitter sorrow. That she could not sleep or rest ; That her heart was bleeding, broken. That her heart's love all was buried. That a tiny golden locket Rested gently on her breast. LADY CHESBY. 89 People called her stately, haughty, As she absently moved round them ; Some said she had no emotion, That her heart was still and cold. No one knew the life of Nellie, No one understood the lady, Not until her dying moments Was her bitter secret told. go FREAKY. Is Nature always smiling ? No, she's a freaky child ; She will not beam upon you Until you first have smiled. EASTER LILY. 91 ^a3ter W^H* Years and years ago, the flowers Thought to choose themselves a queeii- One of sweet and stately bearing, One of gentle, modest mien. All the flowers called together To the Saviour's garden came, Where by his own gentle bidding Every bloom received its name. Who should be the queen ? The flowers Found it hard this to declare ; Some were beautiful but haughty. Some were sweet but were not fair. Some too gentle, some too slender. Some too gaily colored were. But at last one cried, " The lily," All the flowers turned to her. Then the lily rose before them. Tall and stately^ sweet and good, Purple, fair, the purest flower hi the garden, lily stood. For her manner, sweet and royal. For her beauty, grand and rare. She was chosen for their queen, and Called " the fairest of the fair." Q2 EASTER LILY. Then the lily raised her petals, Gone her quiet, modest mien ; And with pride her heart was swollen. Had she not been chosen queen ? Then in accents low and earnest To herself the lily said, ** To no one in earth or heaven Will I ever bow my head ! " In the holy hour of twilight Jesus to the garden went. As the flowers felt his presence Every blossom lowly bent. Held its breath and listened eager For his voice so low and sweet. And the grass was proud and happy To be carpet for his feet. Softly passed he by the flowers, Speaking gently to each one. At his touch with bliss they trembled. Gleamed his beauty like the sun. It is said one little flower \n her joy forgot her name. Every flower-head was bended As the Saviour near it came. EASTER LILY. 93 All but one, the queen, the lily — She, the pride of all the flowers, Haughtily, with head uplifted, By the Saviour's side she towers. Gazing proudly at his beauty. To herself again she said, *' To no one in earth or heaven Will I ever bow my head." Jesus knew her thoughts and loved her, Jesus saw her heart of pride. Softly came he through the garden. Sadly stood he by her side. Gazed upon her, loving, pleading. While the other flowers said, ** Lily, queen, it is the Saviour ; Lily, lily, bend your head." When she knew it was the Saviour Lily's cheeks were blanched with shame. As the Saviour gazed upon her Purest white her heart became. While her soul, filled with repentance. Saw the Saviour's tears of blood, As with head now lowly bowing At his blessed feet she stood. 94 DISCONTENT. Discontent. I sat alone within my room. The moonlight smiled upon the gloom ; When entered Discontent, unhid, And to my side by stealth he slid. I shrank away, and called to Pride, Then in my trembling weakness cried : " My home is sweet, my heart is free ; Fiend, why dost thou trouble me ? " With scorn he glanced my treasure o'er. And pointed at an open door. **Go, go! " 1 cried; but he, instead Of going at my mandate, said : "An ever present foe am I, I'll follow you until you die." *' I will defy you," I replied. As joyfully I followed Pride. DISCONTENT. 95 She led me by a gleaming way O'er fields of light for many a day. My travels o'er, 1 banished Fear, I sat alone, I called for Cheer. Then o'er my shoulder, mocking, leaned A well known, hated, dreaded fiend. I shrank away ; he rudely cried, *'Away with Cheer and Fear and Pride ! **An ever present foe am I, I'll follow you until you die." 96 THE OCEAN'S BRIDE. TI)e 0(lean'3 ^rtde. A broad expanse of clear, dark space, A star-decked vault above ; An atmosphere of silent power, Which thrilled my heart with love. A splendid moon, which seemed to rise From heart of Ocean old, And to my human eyes appeared A ball of shining gold. Higher and higher did it rise Until all gleaming, bright, It seemed to make 'twixt earth and heaven A shining path of light. O Luna, bride of Ocean old, You light his heart of blue ; Though you deign not to notice us, Yet we adore you. We gaze upon your loveliness, And know that you were given To mark for us a path of light And guide our thoughts to heaven. AT THE SEASIDE. 97 At tl)e 3ea3ide. Let artists rave, let poets sing The cottage by the sea. I love the mountains. 1 would sing A cottage by the lea ; Where brooklets bubble, flowers bloom. And mountains towering stand. Serenely there King Silence reigns, And all is sweet and grand. I've left you, dear old mountains^ I'm stationed by the sea ; And yet, though absent, you are dear. E'en now the theme for me. I've learned anew this lesson true. That, wheresoe'er I roam. No spot on earth is half so dear To me as '* hom^e, sweet home." VACILLATING. Vacillating. {What I said yesterday:) How fair the world appears ! How bright the sunbeams shine ! How full of joy am I ! How glad a life is mine ! ( JVhat I say to-day:) How gloomy is the world ! The day with storms is fed ! How sorrowful am I ! I wish that I were dead ! THE SABBATH IN THE MOUNTAINS. 99 Tt)e 3abbcttl) tn tl)e Aocintains. How fair, how pure, how holy The sunlight doth appear ; How faintly yet how clearly The song of bird I hear. What means this holy stillness ? The breeze then seemed to say, In whispers full of sweetness, " This is the Sabbath day." TO A MOUNTAIN BROOK. To a Aoantain ^rool^. Dear little brook, what a lesson you teach me, As through the lone forest you merrily flow ; Singing and sparkling and ever contented To make some one happy wherever you go. Cheering the sad heart of some weary traveler. Many a wanderer has stood at your brink, Where you have charmed him by smiling so brightly. To sing him a song or to give him a drink. Calling the birds to your side by your music. You give them refreshment, and ask not for pay. Dear little brook, you have set me a copy And taught me a lesson this fair summer day. DAILY BREAD. J)a\{% Jgread. There ! Do not look far ahead Calmly eat your daily bread. Do your duty, do your best, And trust God to do the rest. TWILIGHT. Twiligl)t. When Beauty breathes her soul through Nature's own, And Nature reverent is, and peaceful still, I, sitting silent, thoughtful, and alone, Feel all my soul glow with a mystic thrill. A fervent adoration seems to steal Upon my heart. O twilight angel dear, 1 pray you lift the veil which I can feel. Reveal the world of spirits hovering near. And now a whisper low and faintly seems To breathe into my listening spirit's ear ; The while I bend to catch the sunset beams, This message to my waiting soul I hear : '' Seek not to know the realm that lies beyond The veil ; bright sunset clouds are now unrolled, And all the world for you is now adorned With dazzling light and splendors manifold. " Behold the earth, divine it doth appear ! Ah, heaven alone is fairer; could you see Into the heart of this that wraps you here, You'd see the soul of heaven's mystery." MIDNIGHT. 103 ?\idntgl)t 'Tis midnight ; darkness reigneth o'er the earth. The moon and stars Hke eyes of metal glare, And seem to gaze at me with scorn intense and mirth. A sense of littleness pervades the air, And 1 inhale it ; meekly, deeply I absorb My fill of humbleness. I am so weak and small ; The heavens, the worlds above me, and this earthly orb Are fearful — their Creator all in all. A breath of awfulness is in the air, The stillness of the world pervades my soul ; A sense of power enthroned I know not where Comes o'er my senses. Life is a fearful dole, And what am I that I should dare to doubt Existence of a wondrous power divine. When 1 behold so much ! a power without which Life all void and useless would be mine. mighty One, whate'er, where'er thou art. Who madest, who rulest the wonders which I see, 1 do not dare to doubt. Accept my heart. My soul, myself, and all I hope to be. THE DRUNKARD'S WIFE. Tl)e DranI^ar(I'>5 Wife. A dismal scene. A gloomy room, Damp, fireless, cheerless, drear; A dimly burning lamp, a face Transfixed with pain and fear ; A story there so plainly told, A sad, an unloved life. She is on earth, she is in hell, She is a drunkard's wife. She shivers as she lifts her face. Then buries it again Within her hands ; she sighs, she sobs As if with hidden pain. O God, she cannot understand Why she is thus unblest ; O why not let her die, and find Sweet, peaceful, needed rest ? Again she lifts her face ; the lamp Still low and lower burns. O heaven, for fire, for light, for food. For love her spirit yearns. How slow the moments pass ! And will it e'er be light ? Hark ! the town clock sadly strikes The hour of midnight. THE DRUNKARD'S WIFE. 105 '' Twelve, twelve ; " no other sound she hears, And will her soul go wild ? Her face is hard with bitter woe, It once was soft and mild. Her silvery hair, so thin and white, Once shone with golden gleams ; She once had happiness and home, Now she has only dreams. Hark ! O he comes, the drunkard comes. She opens wide the door ; He staggers in and falls a heap Incarnate on the floor. While she resumes her weary watch Alone, how drear her life ! O mighty God, if thou art God, Help thou the drunkard's wife ! io6 BONA AND MALA. l^ona and ?\ala. I have two firm companions, And they are very queer ; One has the name of Bona, And she to me is dear. Yet oft I rudely spurn her, She lingeringly goes ; And then her bitter rival Instantaneously knows, And comes to vex my spirit ; You can surmise her name. Mala, surnamed Pessima, Destruction is her aim. These two, my strange companions. Can never quite agree ; When I admit the one in heart. The other goes from me. Forever they are near me, From morning until night. The one pleads with me gently To lead me in the right ; BONA AND MALA. The other breathes upon me With poison in her breath, Then brings to me forbidden fruit To feed me on to death. When I look hard at Mala, At first she seems so bright ; Then smaller grows, and uglier, Then disappears from sight. But when I gaze at Bona, At first she seems so small ; Then she larger, brighter grows, Till splendor gleams o'er all. io8 THE REASON WHY. TI)e treason Wl)'g. Sometimes my heart is joyful, The world seems gay and bright ; Man and bird and beast I love, Toward all my heart is right. And really as I sing it seems That everything is good ; It seems I easily could preach A sermon, if I would. Again my heart is dismal. And time seems dark and long ; Man and bird and beast I hate, Toward all my heart is wrong. And as I frown it seems to me That everything is bad, That I would rid myself of life If God's permit I had. I'll tell you why I flitter From righteousness to evil — Sometimes I entertain the Lord, And sometimes cheer the devil. WHIPPOORWILL. (i)I)tppoorviU. Day is sinking. Night is rising. Breezes whisper, " Peace, be still.'' Now the mild command out-braving, Comes the voice of whippoorwill. Clamorous the songs he sings us, As if weary of the calm, As if darkness filled him strangely With defiance and alarm. Human nature's sun is sinking ; Some one whispers, ** Peace, be still." Now 1 hear the voice of conscience, Human nature's whippoorwill. LILAC. I5i(ac. When 1 inhale the fragrance Of lilac blooms so sweet, My thoughts go quickly backward, A schoolhouse old I greet. And reverently I linger, The place to me is dear ; E'en now sweet childish echoes Are sounding in my ear. Again 1 see my playmates, I ne'er shall see them more ; Again we pluck the lilacs That blossomed by the door. How often I have formed them \n chains ; again 1 seem To be adorned with lilacs, The present is a dream. Ah, fragrant, purple lilac, Your slender chains have power To bind me to my childhood ; I treasure you, sweet flower. MARY. In a lone, secluded valley, Far from clamor of a town. Covered o'er with vines and flowers. Stood a cottage old and brown. This was Mary's home ; 'twas humble ; Yet the music of the brooks Cheered her soul, and rest was perfect In the quiet woodland nooks. Though sometimes she grew uneasy, Longing far away to roam. Bravely she concealed her longing, For she loved her country home. Plain was Mary, shy, and hardly Daring to a stranger speak ; Humble was she, like a flower. For she knew that she was weak. Yet she dared be kind and loving. Dared to lighten others' care ; And the valley lost its sunshine When it lost her presence fair. MARY. Helpful was she, ready ever To do all within her power — Read or pray, or, if 'twas needed. Watch the lonely midnight hour. For the living toiled she gladly. Flowers she gathered for the dead. And the feeble, sick, and dying Showered blessings on her head. Hushed the valley, stillness reigneth. E'en the breeze is sadly sighing ; Every head is bowed with sorrow. For " our Mary " now is dying. She is dead. A shadow resteth O'er the valley ; all is still. Save the wailing of the breezes Or the sobbing of the rill. Years have passed, and fickle Nature Has forgot her sorrow now ; Breeze and brook are singing gaily, Not a shadow clouds her brow. Other faces cheer the valley. Others laugh and sing and jest ; Mary, in her grave forgotten. Lies in quiet, peaceful rest. MARY. 113 Lies forgotten. No one mentions Auglit of life so pure and fair, No one knows lier lone grave, passing. That a saint lies buried tliere. Just a humble slab is able Mary's resting-place to tell. And her grave is guarded only By the flowers she loved so well. HEAVEN. Heaven. Some picture heaven a city, With many streets of gold, With pearly gates, with mansions Whose beauties ne'er were told ; Some picture it a forest. Where many flowers blow, Where bright-winged birds are singing, With music soft and low. Some picture heaven a resting-place, Where with some well loved friend They hold a sweet communion While heart with heart doth blend. Some picture it a joyful place. Where music e'er is heard. Where white-robed angels sweetly sing Till every pulse is stirred. I know not, dare not, picture What heaven is to be ; But this I know, it perfect is, Prepared for you and me ; And Christ is there, a radiant light, Our friend, companion, lover, And we fore'er content will be Around that light to hover. THE CHILD. 115 Tl)e Cl)iM. I love a child, I'll tell you why — No vile deceit is in its eye, Its soul is mirrored clear within. Untarnished, free from any sin. its heart is spotless, free from guile, Sincerity is in its smile; No flattery is in its words, Its lispings are like notes of birds. Like angels pure and undefiled, The children tarry here a while Before to realms of sin they fly. 1 love a child, I've told you why. ii6 STRANGE. vStrang^e. I shuddered as 1 saw it, A monster far away. It nearer came ! I trembled. Still nearer ! Fearful ? Nay When by my side it glistened, An angel brilliant, fair, 'Twas beautiful ; its awfulness Had gone, I know not where. WHITE VIOLETS. WI)ite Violets- Blue-veined and pure, Magical flower, Not with haughtiness Dost thou tower. Humble art thou, Lowly and good. Thy sweetness telleth Thy neighborhood. ii8 BLUE VIOLETS. ^lae Violets. I heard sweet voices singing, With music soft and sweet ; 1 saw the singers standing And trembling at my feet. A silence, then 1 listened, But not a sound I heard. Save the murmur of a brooklet Or the flutter of a bird. '* Sing on, sweet ones," 1 whispered, '* My heart is filled with love For you, dear little blessings. Emblems of heaven above. ** Fear not ! I will not pluck you ; Know that 1 am your friend. Sing on, let your sweet voices hi fearless music blend." 1 listened in amazement As through those woody dells There rose the sweetest music, Like ringing silver bells. Do you not know the singers — The flowers of azure hue. The blooms which sing of springtime, The violets of blue ? CYNICISM. iiQ C^5ntd^m. Life is vapid, life is wretched ! Death alone us honor brings. Yet we shrink from death, but to life How the meanest mortal clings. LAND OF IMAGINATION. Land of Imagination. A dazzling, fantastical land, Ideal and supermundane ; Cymophanous and brilliant, Inhabited by the insane. TRUST. Tra<5t. Question not your Maker's business, Know you not that he is just ? He has made you, he can keep you ; Place your hand in his and trust. MONEY. Money is a bird, Teach it how to fly, Send it out into the world, Send it up on high ; Then it will come flying back. All your virtues singing. And, I doubt not, many pearls For your crown be bringing. Do not cage the bird. Surely as you do. It will toss itself about Till it forces through. Then it never will return. Though for it you die ; Do not cage your bird of wealth. Teach it how to fly. PRESENTIMENT. 123 Presentiment. Presentiment is that dark cloud, That swiftly is appearing ; Which, threatening, silent, tells the soul A gathering storm is nearing. DON'T BE DECEIVED. Don't ]ge Deceived. Youth has many dreams of love, Like clouds across the sky above, Beautiful but fleeting. But some day youth from dreams will wake, When true love comes the heart to take. The very life completing. DANDELION. 125 Dandelion. I saw a sturdy dandelion, With hair than gold more bright. A week passed on, his golden hair Was turned to silken white. Another week, his poll was bare ; Another — where was he ? Ah, dandelion, strangely you Prefigure life to me. 126 DAY AND NIGHT. J)(i% and Nt^I)t. A dazzling queen, with rosy face, With hair of gold and garments light. Approached the earth with fairy tread, And thus addressed her sister, Night : "Away, vile sister, get you hence ! You bring but woe and crime and shame. You shield the drunkard and the thief. You blast and darken many a name. " Give place to me. I come with cheer, 1 come with hope and truth and light, Your hidden crimes I will reveal — Away with you, foul, cruel Night." The cheek of Night grew pale with grief. Her teardrops fell on flower and grass. She spoke: '*0 fair-faced sister Day, Hear but a word before I pass. " I am not all accursed, for souls Who, weary, long for sleep and rest. With gladness see thee pass, and hail My coming, callJ me sweet and blest. DAY AND NIGHT. '* 1 shield the wrong, I cover crime ; But crimes which only God can see, The vilest crimes by earth o'erlooked, Fair sister, refuge find with thee." Day answered not. Night disappeared. The world awoke; all life was stirred, Those ardent words of Day and Night No ear save mine and Nature's heard. 128 IN UNION IS STRENGTH. *^In Union I3 ^trengtl)/' ( ( > Tis time," proclaimed a snovvflake, As through the cloud he whirled, *' For us to join together And subdue the dying world. *' Let us unite together. And fall with all our might. And e'er another morning We will hide the earth from sight." So the snowflakes rushed together, And fell with all their might — With Frost for king, fell bravely down. And covered earth from sight. A SPECIAL PLACE. 129 A dpedat Place. Come now, cast off your gloom, With smiles now wreathe your face ; Throw off this spirit of unrest. You're needed in your place. Has Christ not said, *' I will prepare A place for you in heaven "? Then surely on this earth to you A special place is given. ANYWHERE. An\5\v^I)ere. Anywhere 'neath heaven's blue There is something good to do. 3l)owers of ]gte33ing. You say there are dark clouds around you, That God does not hear when you call ? Be still ; were there ne'er clouds above you, No showers of blessing would fall ! TO A PANSY. iji To a Pans^. (0« a sunny day.) Dear little flower, how lovely you are. Your tiny bright face makes me think of a star. Your manner is winning, your heart is light. And the smile on your face is happy and bright. Sweet little pansy, your beauty I love, I regard you a gift from our Father above. i}2 TO A PANSY. To a Pan3\;. {On a rainy dajy.) High-colored flower, ungraceful of shape, Your impudent face makes me think of an ape. My heart is lonely and sad as can be. And here you stand, making faces at me. Pansy, I hate you ; I'm sure I don't know Why God ever suffered such a rude flower to blow. UNHEARD MELODIES. 133 llnl)earg LyCS^on from Natare. Nature holds the sweetest lessons For the aged and the young, If we but with love translate her, We shall hear a heavenly tongue. Underneath a stone some flowers, Dying, crushed in bondage, lay ; With but thoughts of love and pity, Quick I rolled the stone away. With the sunlight's beams upon them. Soon they flourished, soon they grew ; This the lesson Nature gave m.e. Which in turn I give to you: Like those flowers souls are dying. Crushed by darkness wo-rse thao night ; Hasten, free them from their bondage. Tell them of our God, our light! THANKSGIVING. TI)anI^^gtving. Ye who dwell in homes of comfort, Having every want supplied, Who with parents, brothers, sisters, Are contented, satisfied, Pause a moment in your gladness, Lift your hearts to God above. All these countless blessings reach you From the fullness of his love. Ye who dwell in humble dwellings, Shiv'ring, cold, and hungry too. Still be thankful, and remember That your Father cares for you. Thank him, for above in splendor Is a mansion firm and sure. Which for you is waiting, waiting. And which will fore'er endure. STORY OF LIFE. N3tor>5 of Ivife Morning, springtime, flowers budding, Sparl