5 X y PRICE 37 1-2 CENTS. THE OTHER POEMS. BY OURRIE GREGG. "AVilli sonorous iiotps Of overy toiip, iiiixpcl in confusion swert. All cliantcd in the fullnr^s of delight, The forest rings. ** (', WILCOX. HOLLISTON, MASS. DAA'ID HEARD, JR., PRINTER. 18 50. \^^ w I COPY-RIGHT SECURED. • i^B THE SPIRIT DIRGE, AND OTIIEE POEMS. •i* BY CURRIE GREGG. " With sonorous notes Of every tone, mixed in confusion sweet, All chanted in the fullness of delight, The forest rings. " C. Wilcox. OPV HOLLISTON, MASS: DAVID HEARD, JR., PRINTER. P'' 18 50. TAELE OF CONTENTS. PAGE. The Spirit Dirge, ... - 3 God Omnipresent, ........... 5 To The Wind, 6 The Old Mansion House, 7 The Wreckers, 7 An Autumn Day, 8 Speak Kindly, ........... 8 The Sailor To His Son 9 The Zephyr And The Rose, 9 Morning, , 10 Cities Of The East 10 The Strife Of Life, 10 Pilgrims Of Art, H Indian Summer, H To Alice, .12 Autumn, .,........•• 12 The Snow, 12 The Past, 13 The Lovers 13 A Descriptive Picture, 13 Questions And Answers, 14 Dawn, 1* The Sabbath Bell, . ' 14 April, 14 Time Is Like A River, 15 May, 15 Corneilia, • 15 THE SPIRIT DIRGE,* As the sands of life were shifting, And the clouds of fate went drifting O'er the scene of my despair ; As I lay in fever tossing, Seem'd it that my soul was crossing, — Crossing to a land more fair. On, and on ! I flew rejoicing — On ! — I scarcely paused for choicing, — Up the shining fields I sped ! Many a radiant flower upspringing 'Neath my footsteps, shone, — but singing, On — forever on — I fled ! Countless stars around me gleaming Burst, and far beneath, in seeming Like the earth, a system roU'd ; Sun and moon around it circled, Till its surface grew impurjiled ; Then in distance flashed like gold. Dim, and dimmer grew its outlines. Dimmer ! — till it shone like sea-mines Underneath the yUgean sea ; Dimmer ! — as I floated o'er all — Dimmer I — till it shone like coral Underneath the surging sea. Then it vanished. Hours longer Seem'd my flight ; but I grew stronger Every step my soul advanced. Stars burst on me and retreated ; Stars advanced ; — my soul seem'd sheeted 'Gainst each burning ray that glanced. Far beneath, around, above me. Systems flashed — they could not move me From the shining path I trod ; Stars fell back in broken phalanx. Reeling down toward the stray ranks. That did brighten the far sward. All in vain ! Xo sight could move me, Though unnumbered worlds above me, Burst each moment on mj^ sight; — Higher, higher ! I proceeded ; Swifter, swifter ! each receded, Till I scarcely marked their flight. Swifter I — till they seem'd united ; Swifter ! — till the heavens were lighted, And my pathway shone like flame ; Swifter ! — till each orb that wended Singly on, rushed down, and blended Into one broad track of flame. Suddenly the heavens were darken' d. And ceil'd up with gloom. — I harken'd ! Not a moving sound was heard ! But beneath me, far and faintly. Shone the last star of the saintly Troops that round my pathway stirr'd. Paused I then, and pondered sadly ; Paused; — "was this the sunless valley Of the shadow ?" my soul said. Long I listened ; — to my query Came no answer ; but more dreary Grew the pathway overhead. Dreary ! — though an inward feeling. Based on high resolve, kept stealing From the soul its brief unrest : Dreary, — yet no gloom could pain it. Neither could the darkness chain it ; — Nothing could its flight arrest. All at once in hues resplendent. Hose a cloud ; it hung impendent O'er the gloomy vale beneath ; — "Is this heaven r" I cried, transported, " Is it:" — but the vision floated. And passed over in a breath. * Any one at all familiar ivitli tlic pcicticnl ■writings of tlie late Kilpar A. Toe, will iinmodiatcly rccoBiiizc our drift in the suhioined poem. All again was hushed and quiet — Hush'd, — as it had been God's fiat, Fixed long ere the birth of Time, That eternal gloom should cover The dark valley, souls pass over In their skyward Might sublime. On, and upward, and far reaching. In its strength, the gloom went stretching, With the shadow, hand in hand ; Stretching, — till a grey blue mingled With the darkness — faintly mingled — Far above the valley land. Gradually the gloom disparted. And strode slowly back. — Upstarted, In its stead, a deeper blue. There it lingered ; deep cerulean. Melting into rich vermilion, Flashed an ever-varying hue. Saw I then a vast pavilion, Which, compared to earth, a million Orbs as large, or larger, even, Could they, for a moment, mingle Into one, — to form a single Beautiful and breathing heaven, — They must have failed. To my vision, Brighter seem'd it than Elysian Out of richest fancy formed. ALL the gloomy vale was lighted, And my soul, so long benighted, Caught its influence and warmed. New created hopes, upspringing, Fired my soul, and upward winging, Upward, upward ! still I sped. Onward, heavenward ! never fearing, I advanced. Like thought careering, Up the gleaming waUs I fled ! Upward ! till those shiniiig portals, Which are closed to sinful mortals, Opened Avidely to my view ; Till from thence, and upward welling, Rose a dirge-like music, swelling, Such as only angels knew. And from far, my soul surprising, Like silver mist uprising, Rose a myriad shining souls ; And above them, leagues, in seeming, And in distance faintly gleaming, — Where, in gold and sapphire, rolls The cloud,— cliff, cragg and height uprose ; And far beneath them in repose, Slept the deep-sheltered vales. My spirit felt the change ! It breathed The gentle airs of heaven, and wreathed Its brow with the sweet-scented gales That closed around it. The soul's thirst Was quenched. The spirit, reimmerst lu immortality, arose, And with surrounding souls did mingle ! From remoter vales, a single, Beautiful, bright form arose ! Following him in swift succession, Came a long and bright procession, Beautiful of limb and strong ; And their radiant forms extended Leagues around. A throne descended From the glittering heights among. Forms more bright than ocean Peri, That, securely 'neath the sea lie. Bore it down the azure height ; Bore it down the shining pathway. To the proud grey cliffs, that still lay Weltering in the rosy light. And the bright procession, wheeling Heavenward, all their powers revealing, Quickly circled it around ; Circled round it, till my vision Saw no longer the Elysian That had passed without a sound. So, with many a pilgrim spirit, That in heaven those joys inherit Which are lost or won below, I uprose ; — on — on ! I started ; On ! The rosy depths disparted ; — On ! How sweet their garments flow ! Gazed I then on each procession That had passed, in quick succession, Through the portals of the sky ; Every form seemed more resplendent, As I gazed ; and more transcendent Grew the glittering pageantry. And the throne, each sense surprising. Like two pyramids arising, Seem'd of emerald wreathed in gold ; And above it, like the starlight, When she stoops above the far height. Every spirit flag unroU'd. And the angels sang in chorus 'Till each strain that floated o'er us Seem'd a ripple of the sea ; 'Till the soul, in rapture swelling. Every earthly sense dispelling, Stood in its own purity. Saw I then two forms reclining Gently on that throne, entwining. Each, an arm, the other round ; For, on earth, had they been plighted Heart and soul ; now reunited, Each their hopes in heaven had found. One a poet was, and gifted. While on earth. But darkly drifted O'er his head the storms of life ; And each burning word he uttered Seem'd a wounded form that fluttered From an inner world of strife. And the other Avas a maiden, — One of whom he sang ; — in Aidenn By " the angels named Lenore ;" And she lay \ipon his bosom, Like a rare, celestial blossom, . And she whispered — " Ever more !' And his harp — the angels hnng it Near him, all unstrung ; — he strung it, And swept back the silver}- serge ; And the maiden sweetly pondered On the joys of heaven, and wondered If on earth such joys emerge. Now the angels sing their praises, — And his lyre the poet raises. And repeats it o'er and o'er ; — " Here, within this glorious Aidenn, Do I clasp the peerless maiden ^Vhom the angels named Lenore !' GOD OMNIPRESENT OR, THE SUBLIME EVIDEXCES Or DEITY, AS MANIFESTED IX THE IIIDDEX AXD VISIBLE OrEUATIOXS OF XATUllE. Thou Omnipresent, seK-existent source Of all that was, or is, or j'et to be, How can my soul, in purj^osc all unfledged. Presume to reach Thee ? — Thee ! the Omnipo- tent r — There 's not a form in the Avhole universe ! Xay, — not even the minutest particle Of animal life, but that doth look To Thee for being through its short-lived hour. Man cowers beneath Thine all-surveying eye. And trembling asks thy mighty hand to spare ; The ocean hails Thee with sublimest voice. And from the vasty dejjths of its great womb, Unfathomably illimitable. And never to be explored, (save by the Slimy ofFsiirings of its loins,) — it offers Up to Thee a mighty, du-gc-likc hymn, Strewed with continuous surges. From the earth, Millions of human tongues go up to Thee In praise. Man bows to Thee in penitence And prayer, and asks of Thine Omnipotence To save. Even as Thou art to the mind's Eye — incomprehensible — so art Thou To mc all-powerful — all-omnipotent ! How can I deem Thee otherwise ? — Thou ! The Eternal r AVc know, we see, we feel Thy greatness ; we think, and reason, too. And do exist, as evidences of Thee. And }-et Thou art a soua'ce of deep amaze ! — A being infinite and wonderful To scan ! — A mighty self-existent God ! — I strive to know Thee and to understand. I move, act, think and reason ; yet, to me, Thou art a wonderment — a mystery ! — Tlien what am I r — alas ! I know not — A mystery -v^ithin a mystery ! — How seek to fathom Ilim.who made me such r Who fashioned man to wonder at himself r God ! how shall I ever know thee r or, if not, How live to comprehend thy simplest works ? The world is full of Thee ! Air, earth and sea ; Even the distinct forms that people them, Being within being, filling their own Existence separately, subject alike To the same law of change, filled with the same Principles of life and action, feel Thee, And recognize Thee through all time and change. To Thee all things are eloquent of praise ! The veriest insect hath an audible voice. And the sere leaves, that Autumn strews along The forest aisles, are whispering of Thee. Rivers that move in stately grandeur on, Filling the cxhaustless reservoirs of earth "With a deep sense of renovated life, Greet Thee in mute reflections of Thyself. The vegetable world looks eloquently up, As if to ask Thine all-sustaining aid ; The wind-rocked and impenetrable woods Have found for Thee an ever- varying tongue ; The inaccessible mountain peaks, swayed By eternal winter, hj-mn Thee with praise ; And, with a deaf 'ning and perpetual roar. From his eternal source, Niagara speaks. Filling the arch'd heavens with his ascendins praise I Even the worsliijiers of sun and fire, Within those elements do recognize Thee. The " dark idolater" in his own heart doth feel Thy presence ; and from the inanim^ate "Wood and stone, shapes, with strong hands, from his weak Eye, and weaker sense of judgment. Thy liude counterpart. Even the Christian bows, And seeks to worship thee in costly temples Kcar'd by human hands ; unmindful that the unroof 'd Chapel aisles, which, nature formed, for aye existed ! — God ! as Thou art wise, so art Thou impar- tial ! Thou makcst fi-om the simplest particles Of separate and material being, xip. Each, in its tvirn, subservient to a one Great principle of life ! Hence there is no Distinction ; each, in its separate sphere. Returns to earth again, again to be Dissolved into a myriad forms of life, Each separate and distinct, and each, v.-ithin Itself, a world of light and life, subject. Alike, to the same varied round of change. Then what are we ? — we ? — Great God, what are we ? — And Thou r — from whence art Thou ! mightiest of all? I sec Thee ! feel Thee ! and yet know Thee not ! All nature — e'en to the remotest orbs That people space, and arc cognizant, are But a part of Thy illimitable self! I feel within Thine all-pervading midst An indescribable sense of passing Littleness, — of being weak and abject ; For, unto man. Thy long eternity Speaks but too eloquent of human dust- TO THE WIND. To TiiKE, Almighty Ruler ! unto Thee, Who art forever present, suffer me. In the still ra.om that opens to my view, — That opens to the eye, and to the sense Of myriad breathing life, — to bend the knee ; To bow within these venerable woods ; For Thou did'st rear them. To worship here, As few have worshiped. To look up To Thee, Almighty Father ! and exclaim, — "Thou art God !"^ But hither come the winds, sweet Winds ! dew-laden from the west. How full of v.'arm And passionate love they seem. Even Now, in their young strength, mark how they dally With the rose, lifting the delicate leaves That shield her bosom from the ravished gaze Of the enamored bee. And yet they are Unto the fevered brow, as cooling Waters are unto the parched earth. See now, A stronger current sweeps, and undermines The lca\-es of the gr-eat forest. Afar, and faint. It sounded first ; now more distinct and near. A river of sweet harmony, it seems, — From mingling sounds of harmony its source ; — And through the woven vistas of the wood,. Lifting the infant foliage from- the stalk, To the still air, the river of sweet sound Flows on ! Oh ! thou delirious tide ! So rife with song of bird and waterfall ; So filled with the melodious sighing of the stream And the sweet prattle of the innocent brook ; So pregnant with the balm of flowering shrubs And medicinal herbs ; — list thou to me ! Would'st thou cool the fevered brow— - Would'st thou raise the sufferer now ? Would'st give strength unto the weak. Him of pale and sunken check ? Would'st tliou drive the hectic flow From those cheeks that siiame the snow ? W^ould'st thou see them wandering througfe Thy still depths, as I now wander, Shaking the dissolving dew From the flowers expanding rxnder ? — If thou would'st, then come with me ; I will teach thee where they be. First, within the noisy street. Many a sad pale face you meet. Hurrying to their daily toil ; And that toil will scarcely give Each the means wherewith to live- Sad it seems, and yet 't is trrre. Though I breathe it but to you ! Would'st thou cheer that fair young girf. With face so pale, so very pale ; And lift once more the sunny ciu'l. As, in her childhood's happy vale. Ere yet her innocent soul had learn'd The secrets of a sinful world r See her ply her heavy task. Within yon chamber cold and dim ; She is too proud her food to ask, Save of the rich taskmaster ; him W^ho spares so grudgingly from out his store Of glittering ore ! The daylight never brealcs the gloom, AVithin her solitary room. Pity h.cr, ye purse-proud lew, Ye, who glitter o'er life's track ; And remember -what ye do, Throws a deep reliection back. There she sits from morn till night, Toiling for the right to live ; Toiling for the jialtry mite That ye would not feci to give ; Toiling by the smoky lamp. In her chamber, cold and damp. ****** Ye who wear the 'broidcred robe In the glittering halls of mirth, Know ye that o'er half the globe, Half the invalids of earth Toil, that thou mayst shine more bright. Those rich habiliments within, — E'en as the glow-worm shines by night, Enamored of its covering ? But mark ! the playful winds do hoed me not. The sun so late upon the horizon's verge, Is still ascending ; so yonder purple cloud. That hovers o'er his path will pass away. But may the strain my heart so lately urged, So feebly uttered, live within thy soul ! THE OLD MANSION HOUSE. Grim'd and battered Avith grey moss, The Old Mansion House doth stand, Gazing along the misty strand, "WTience our pilgrim spirits cross. Where their bright pavilions cast Back the dull surges of the vpiceless past. Once upon thy sloping lawn. Beneath the branching elm's shade. Troops of frolicsome children played In the first smiles of the morn, And tlicir merry voices rang. Where now the oaks in fringed embroidery hang. But alas ! thy hopes have flown With those bright-eyed laughing troops ; No longer are heard their merry whoops Through the autumn woods at morn. I listen — but no floral hymn Goes up from their cloistered niches dim. Hem'd in closely by rude walls, Half shut out from careless eyes. Lies the garden. Cerulcous skies Mirror the spider's thin halLs, Where full many a trophied limb Doth hang along their woven galleries dim. On the stairs the old clock stands ; O'er its ancient face of time — • Guarding the relics of its prime — It doth press its silent hands ; Pointing to the far off strand. The viewless sea, and to the promised land. And the stairs are piled with dust From the broad-step to the floor. While half unhung, still swings the door. Oak panelled and hinged with rust ; And cobweb tenants of the hall, In woven festoons hang along the wall. All alone, and ■sATapt in gloom. Stands the Mansion House of yore, Sad memorial — evermore Silent, voiceless as the tomb ; And no living sound is heard. Save the wild scream of the night-startled bird. But two centuries have flung Their mute shadows over all ; — Over the dark worm-eaten wall, Not a thread hath memory hung ; And I idly stand and gaze Into that past that never man obeys. THE AVRECKERS. The sky is overcast — Darkness and gloom are gathering silently ; Swift overhead the winds come rushing past. And a storm is on the sea ! Kindle the watch fires high, thou fiends of hell. Darkness shall not prevail against thee ! All is well ! Thy souls gloat o'er yon speck. Half hid in darkness — 'Tis a hellish plan ! The object nears — 'Tis the dismantled wreck Of a proud Indiaman I Thy plans are laid, and o'er the surging waves, he beacon-lights of death, pilot them to their graves. 8 Tliere 's many a straining eye Bent on the breakers — Madness doth them fill! One deafening crash — one startling shriek of agony Is heard, and all is still ! The deed is now accomplished, Fiends of hell ! Darkness did not prevail against thee ! All is well ! The clouds outride the moon ! The storm and darkness will not fail thee now. Strike — 'tis a prize ! Thoir canst not strike too soon ! All hands are mute below ! Xot one survives the horrid tale to tell ; The morning slowly dawns ! The drifting clouds have changed their leaden hue. The rocks and streams, and the wide spreading lawns Are muffled in light blue ! A thousand gems are flashing in the sand. — Last night there was a wreck ! None ever reached the land ! The day drags heavily ! Over the rocks, the tide comes roaring in : Idly they stand and gaze into the sea, Those resolute men of sin ! They have no fear ! What care they for their doom ? — So thou canst strike, nor fear ; — much gold will j Their hour has come at last ? No conscience pay thee well ! i stirs its gloom ! AN AUTUMN DAY. I FEEL iipon my brow The soft south wind that overflows the sky ; Invisible fingers lift the loaded bough. That shadows where I lie. The sober Autumn, 'neath The hedge-row sits, through the long sunny day, Numbering the creakmg wains that pass the heath. Loaded with fragrant hay. The rosy children come, Frolicing along the way, a noisy troop. Some playing at hide-and-seek, and yonder some Are trundling the swift hoop. Some loiter on their way ; And when their school-fellows are out of sight, With rapid, noiseless steps they glide away, Forgetful of the right. All sounds are blended now Into one full harmonious voice of praise ; Even the oriole, upon the maple bough. Its modest note essays. The squirrel leaps along The cloven and mossy wall, and Avith a cry. And a shrill, startling chirp, which is his song. Pauses to catch your eye. The traveller bee moves past. Mournful and sad — denied his usual store — For the wild rose and clover bloom, at last Have ceased to tempt him more. Oh ! glorious Autumn ! With thy ripened store of many voiced de- lights ! How can I soon forget thee — Thee and the sum Of all thy pleasant sights ! SPEAK KINDLY. Judge not harshly of thy brother. Lest unknowing thou misjudge ; Name his lofty virtues, rather, — Kindness is not all a fudge ! He who breathes an evil sentence. May in future half repent ; But remember such repentance Goes to prove a life misspent. Man may live in seeming virtue Outwardly, corrupt within ; While some thoughtless, careless creature May be more exempt from sin. Crush not then thy fellow seamen, Though thy voyage should prove less fair ; Envy is a living demon ; — Thou should'st never quite despair ! Never pain thy pilgrim brother, But give aid, and strength, and light : Hearts that live and love each other, Scorn less earthly in their might. Keats, the beautiful and gifted. Once lay "crushed in mind and heart ; " But the angels came and lifted His pure soul from Envy's dart. Then remember and speak kindly — All the common lot must bear : Go not to destruction blindly ; Sink not down in thy despair. But look upward with the cheerful ; Crush thy inner walls of sin : Soon will come a summons fearful ; Bear these solemn truths within. THE SAILOR TO HIS SON. Oh ! thou bright voyager to the unknown land ! That sail'st along the unruffled waves of Time, How oft ill mine I clasp thy tiny hand, And pray that thine may prove a voyage sublime. That naught like clouds may come athwart thy sky, To stir that calm serenity of soul Which points us upward, as wo onward fly, To those bright realms where saintly Paeans roU! That thine may prove a prize -vvith wisdom fraught ; That truth be firmly seated at the helm ; That naught of passion or of evil thought, Be suffered thy spiritual bark to whelm. That all thy acts may prove as beacon-lights To those benighted on the world's highway. Till Hope and Faith, in firmest bonds, unites Thee, and thy fellow trav'lers on their way. Thus may thy voyage be one continuous calm Of lofty triumphs o'er the ills of earth, Till Death to thee extends a healing balm For all thou' St suffered ; — an immortal birth I Such is my prayer ; and may a hope be thine, Thi-ough Faith's strong power, sublim'd in her liigh art. That naught may dim those beacon-lights that shine Around the gifted and the pure in heart THE ZEPHYR AND THE ROSE, " From my castle, in the mountain, I have wandered to thj- bower ; And I pause within the moonlight — Wilt thou let me in, sweet flower :" Thus the zephyr came a wooing To the lattice of the rose ; And so mournfully a wooing. That she could not him refuse. " — Nay !" she said, " thou winged deceiver, Wherefore dost thou wound me so ? — Shouldst thou with me find favor, It might prove my overthrow." " Nay not so," the zephyr answered ; And he gently kissed the rose ; " — I am no cold deceiver. Like the truant wind that blows." So the rose and zephyr tasted The first joj's of mutual love ; But how long the moments lasted, Ask the fickle winds above. Soon, the rose, so kind and loving, By her heartless lord deceived. Sighed and wept, from night till morning, And from morn till night she grieved. And she grew more pale and shrunken, 'Till her eyelids closed in grief; And her cheeks, tho' flushed, grew sunken. And the rose fell with the leaf. Now the gentle winds go sighing, With an ever mournful tone ; For they shrived the wild rose, dying, On her bed of thorns alone. 10 MORNING. Befoke me, now, the morning opens ■wide Her rosy volume. Not a leaf is stirr'd ! The slender twig points upward, all unswayed By the light breeze. Within the stream, the tall Oaks cast their perpendicular shadows. Over the East, a purple cloud, cross-streaked "With gold, hangs hovering. The golden lines, That herald the approach of the big sun, Are shooting upward. Far along the verge Of the horizon, — that last night shone grey And cheerless, — lingers, and rolls a strong flood Of molten light. Above it, a long rift Of vapor, piled, cloud above cloud, stretches In layers, which, in their different aspects, Do resemble the material world ; While farther up, the blue outstretching wide — A liquid mass — and far upreaching, seems Like the unruffled surface of a lake, When, to their mountainous caves, the strug- gling winds Have all been gathered by Hippotades. Along the south, skirting the dark grey ridge Of hills, that jut into the blue, stands the dark Forest ; Avhile betwixt, fringing the blue lake, Rise the tall poplax's. All around is still, Save that at intervals, goading the mute air, Comes the faint sounds of distant waterfall. The birds are mute that but an hour ago, In the first grey of dawn, caroU'd so sweetly ; And the slight grasshopper, that in the sun Chirps freely, leaps silently on, amid The springing clover, unmindful of man's Approach. Those untiring minstrels, the bees, That buzz all day for joy, are not abroad. But look ! the sim has now arisen ! The heavens As suddenly have blushed a deep crimson ! And lo ! all things at once have wakened into life. The birds have found a tongue ; the grasshopper Chirps freely from his watchtower in the clover — The tall grass ! The bees are now abroad, and All things wear a new and shining aspect. CITIES OF THE EAST. " Time sadly overcometh all things." He doth sit dominant upon a sphinx. And looketh into Memphis and old Thebes ; While the dumb genius, his oblivious sire, Keclincth on a pyramid grown grey With moss, weaving old glories into dreams. He doth frame, out of Titanic ruins. Puzzles unanswerable, and wonders vague ; Quaint dreams, and speculations, and the like. * All earthly things are perishable, else Empires had not fallen, nor man decayed ; Cities had not declined, nor solitudes Grown inharmonious with human strife ; Neither had the venerable forests Been transformed into gigantic cities To become, in turn, stupendous ruins. Domes, monuments, cities, empires, and the Human race, had all existed still. But they have fallen ! The incessant march Of the Invisibly sublime, doth bring Changes innumerable. The mute stars, (AVhich have been mute forever, and will be,) Sola watchers of his course, alone srvive To mark the errand of his destiny On earth, and note the progress of the task To its fulfilling. Yes, they have fallen ; Thebes, Memphis, Tyre, Babylon !— Yea ! hoary and stupendous Babylon I The vast, the mighty, the unconquerable,— The forever present 'to the mind's eye,— Now venerable — once glorious — what are they ? What they were, even their ruins are made Eloquent to utter ; what they are, The weary pilgrim shudders to repeat. THE STRIFE OF LIFE. Side by side, in the waste desert, Of the moving sands of life, "Vice and falsehood, linked together. Wield dark weapons in the strife. And the flowers that bloom around them, Once infected by their breath. Seek to mingle in with virtue, The foul seeds of moral death. * Slightly altered from Sir Thomas Browne. 11 Thus we oft behold a desert, Where a paradise should be; ^^^lere, for lack of moral culture, All is dark deformity. But the truth, full oft unnoticed, With a keen and searching eye, Guards the right ; and oft, in peril, Bids his sister, virtue, fly ! O, could truth, -within each bosom. Strike one soul convincing blow, How many flowering virtues Would the golden I'utm-e know. Earth I that is so full of sorrow, Though of every virtue rife. Then wo\ild bless the glorious onset Of the moral "strife of life !" — Then let every soul be valiant. And their strongest weapons draw ; Let the proud, the honored, gifted. Come to swell the ranks of war. Let them don their brightest armor ; Let true virtue know its worth ; Let them win the soul's high guerdon. And a paradise on earth. PILGRIMS OF ART. When stern Oppression drove The Pilgrim Fathers from their native land, They like our fathers strove, Strove for their worshiped shrines, but not command ; Braving a thousand dangers which assailed, With indomitable courage, — they prevailed. Stern ocean rose and fell ! For days, and weeks, and months, the swell Of angry billows, lashed the adventurous bark ; Waking in each heroic soul A sense of littleness, which stole From pride its onlj^ spark. They saw in the deep blue o'erhead, The viewless fields where angels tread. And, through the breathing depths above, — beyond All space, — the God of light and love, enthroned They saw, and worshiped. They were a godly race, Lofty of purpose ; and from such have sprung Names that still hold a place In Fame's broad niche, lauded by every tongue. Such glorious names as Trumbull, West and Stuart, And the immortal AUston, masters of the art. Are not of the ideal ! — No ! — they live and will be real While yet on earth a vestige of their works remain. Renewed by every touch of time Their feeblest efforts grown sublime, They live, nor liv'd in vain. And from examples, such shall spring, Names glorious as the ones I sing ; And from the past the limner's soul shall glean New inspiration from the life-like scene Of Old Time offering. INDIAN SUMMER. Yes, they have come — those sweet autumnal hours, Bearing in their embrace earth's richest smiles. Of all the bright and many tinted flowers That, through the innocent months of spring, beguiles The sunny hours, — alas ! not one remains ; Not even a leaf in all thy wide domains ! And yet, for thee, pale death assumes a smile, And wears an air of innocent beauty still ; The cheerless woods grow cheerful, for awhile, Within thy presence ; and the wooded hill. Bathed in the golden sunlight, and the vale Deep sheltered, arc refreshed by the sweet gale. But thy bright hours are like the transient flush That plays around the features of decay ; Leaving a smile of beauty, and a blush Of seeming health within th' unbreathing clay. Long may'st thou linger, sweet autumnal time. Nor leave too soon our changing northern clime. But hark ! — the forest now, so lately stript By the chill, ruthless winds, hears in the leaves Low mournful rustling, by the hoar frost nipt, The sound of moving insects ; — and it grieves. Alas ! thou stately forest — thou didst wear A rich embroidery once ; — now thou 'rt stript and bare. And this is then thy boa.st — pale autumn — this ! Thy hands destroy ; but, in return, a few Bright sunny moments give, such as we miss When summer's reign is o'er; when the slight dew By the chill frost usurped, no longer shines Along the garden walls, and trellised vines. TO ALICE. "When the autumn pines are sighing And the withered leaves are still ; When the sunset flush is lying On the cloud encircled hill; Then I 'm thinking, always thinking, Thinking till the stars are blinking From their high aerial "VA'ay, Thinking that the world is drinking From the poet's rills alway. Then from out the silent chambcrs^ Of the soul, in long array, Come the forms of thoughts long hidden From the blessed light of day : And I bless them, and I dress them In wild numbers, and address theiri To the hearts that feel alway, — Thinking that the world may guess them J Cfuess the meaning they convey. Thus I sit, and thi5S I ponder. Till my spirit inly grieves, — Ponder till the starry midnight Leaves her footprints on the leaves ; Ponder till the restless midnight Sees the gi'ey dawn's glimmering light, — • Ponder till the weary vision From the far famed fields El^'sian Sinks, exhausted with its flight. AUTUMN. 0, with what glory comes and goes the year. — Longfellow. The seasons boast a glory all their own ! Stern Winter ! — yes — the winter hath its joys ! The merry Clu'istmas tale, the pointed jest, The chat, a fire- side, and the noisy game. Are all his own. The Spring, too, hath its sweets. And, with a thoughtless hand, scatters abroad His feast of roses. The world is full of hope, And joy, and brightness ; for the spring is mild ! And Summer ; yes, bright Summer hath its joys ; Deep, glad'ning heartfelt joys. Then, Autumn ! whence art thou ? and where thy charms ? — Keveal thyself, that I may chant thy praise. Unveil thyself a moment, that my thoughts May sketch thy vivid outlines to the life. And thou art with us now — pale Autumn l Thou? Methinks I heard thee say so ; — and the woods That once were vocal with the song of birds. And bright wing'd insects, whose monotonous notes So ravished every ear ; — the vales outstretching far. Disrobed of all their summer draper}'. And gone, the sylvan pomp of their cool groves ; The quiet, plaintive note of the brown thrush Within the hedge-row, that, in Summer, sang So sweetly ; — each — all — proclaim thy presence I Alas ! they know thee well ! There's not a thing That wears the form of life, bv\t knows thee also. THE SNOW. How lightly falls the snovi On the ground. None will venture out I troAV While the storm is thickening so All around. How silently it falls From on high ! See, it gathers round the walls Like an insect when it crawls 'Neath your eye. Now a multitude of flakes. Sinking, shrouds The rivulets and lakes. That a lighter habit takes From the clouds. And the woods and fields around,^ And the town. Are so silently profound That it hath an audible sound, Coming down. 'Tis not like summer rain. Soft and cool ; Though it overflows the plain. And refills the stream again. And the j^ooL 13 THE PAST. Oh thou oblivious past ! had I the power One moment to unlock thy ponderous gates And bar them back, how gladly would I seek To pass within thy portals — to explore ; And to disclose thy dark robed ministers, "Which, through the innumerable ages That have gone before, have stood like cowTd monks Upon thy hidden tombs, securing wealth And homage from the slow yielding present. Oft have I gazed into thy mighty womb And marked, as now, thy unrelenting waves. Even while I speak, thy sullen ■\^'aters meet, And swallow up the moments as they pass. Thy surges have no sound ; thy waves beat up And coil around me without a murmur, — Pause but the fraction of a moment, then Move slowly back, bearing in their embrace The sad remains of human pomp and pride. They leave no records save the written scroll That swells the history of nations ! We I-ive but in the eternal present — all ! The wealth of worlds, one moment could not purchase. Nor recall. Alas ! one little moment ! And so brief — so quickly gone ! Even liko The shadow, it eludes our grasp, and yet Doth hU the universe entire ! THE LOVERS. AxNA by her casement sitting In the hushed and starry light. Heard her lover's voice committing Songs of love unto the night. Listening, soon she caught the measure, Softly borne on the still air. And her heart o'ertlowed with pleasure, For she knew young Carl was there. Carl was seated 'neath the lattice, And the moon was shining clear, And he sang the sweet song that is Dear to cverv maiden's ear. Constancy, and long enduring Love, deep rooted in the soul. Sang he, — and his voice w^as luring To the maiden past control. " No !" she whispered, " he can never In his heart prove false to me. Hope and Peace would cry forever Shame, to such inconstancy." — Scarcely was the burden ended, ^Yhcn a footfall struck his ear ; — Maiden, thou hast comprehended, But he kissed away a tear. A DESCRIPTIVE PICTURE. A avEENLY brow, expressive of deep thought, Whereon were traced those clear transpicuous lines, Which to the marble give a mimic life, Lay mid her clustering curls, but half concealed. And ever and anon, those drooping lids. And dewy eyelashes, all fringed with tears, Parted, and then in silent splendor shone Two dark expressive orbs, such as do haunt Our dreams ; -sA-ithin whose fathomless depths, the soul Of Genius doth enshroud itself. Her cheek Was like the transient crimson that doth streak The sunset sky ; and over all the west. In lines transverse a parting glory flings : While through the Avindings to each dimpled vale. The eloquent blood of youth did ebb a nd flow. — A rounded neck, in whose voluptuous curve, And clear transparency, the richest hue Of alabaster vies with purest marble, Seem'd but another feature, added to those charms AVhich make the heart to throb, we know not why. And from those lips, the music breathing wind Caught up her silvery accents, soft nnd low. And bore them upward on its seen ted wings, To be embalmed amid the fadeles'i stars. 14 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS- Poet ! what is Life ? Life is a silken thread Of finest tissue ; Time doth spin it from the infant's head, In many colored woof, to the grim cofRn lid ! Poet ! what is Hope ? Hope is a sweet day dream Poet ! what is Fame ? Fame is a meteor light Of untold witchery. It doth burst upon the aspirant's sight, In all the splendor of its perishing might. Poet ! what is Death ? Death is the closing scene Of twinkling shadows ; — never a heart so 1 Of Life's great drama ; the winding up of every wretched, it would seem, | act, between But what hath felt the influence of its beam. Existence's threshold and Death's dark ravine. DAWN. From toppling craggs, that tremble o'er the verge Of the precipitous hills, the grey dawn First advances. Far along the mountain's Topmost heights, in distance faintly seen, floats A thin mist, though indistinct its outlines ! Awhile it hangs almost immovable Along the ridges. Gradually it lessens — Glittering peaks appear — and then the vapor Trembles a moment more, and is absorbed. Then proudly high the veteran oaks arise, Resting their royal arms majestically Against the sky. A few faint streaks of light Shoot upward from the cast, and intersect ; While the deep verge of the horizon lies Bathed in the open sea of rosy light From whence they emanate ; revealing through The foliage of the trees, prop'd by their Giant stems, a widening, freshening view, Of all the cheering heralds of the morn. THE SABBATH BELL. Above me murmurs the leaf-haunted elm ; The south wind in the dewy atmosphere awakes ; The becalmed clouds move on without a helm. And the green grasshopper the silence breaks. The sunlight glistens in an oblique line, Piercing the dewy pearls that on the biishes hang, I While from the iDointed foliage of the pine, Comes a soft murmur as if angels sang. i I sit and listen ; — all the air seems filled, As from some melodious river of sweet soimd ; Strange voices mingle till my soul is thrilled, And to its airy modulations bound. Then all seems hushed into a quiet calm, And earth, and air, and sea, religious silence makes ; At last, arising, floats the broken charm, — The deep toned bell the Sabbath stillness breaks. APRIL. The •welcome time has come. — Come with invigorating showers and sunny days; Known as " Sweet April" in our northern home, Bv the wild robin's lavs ! This is the time Avhen fields. Freed from the embrace of Winter's icy arms, Swell to the throb of a new life, that yields To the wide world its charms ! 15 Through the dim forest aisles, Where the gray partridge makes his cheerless home, A milder influence makes each haunt to smile. When this, our month, has come. — There is no time like thee. So full of all the newness of young life ; So fresh, so joyous, and withal, so free From selfishness and strife. TIME IS LIKE A SILENT RIVER. Time is like a silent river. Moving to an unknown sea. Onward — onward — moving ever, — Moving — moving silently ! Man alone disturbs the quiet Of its ever tranqiul flow. Sowing, — mixing blood and riot 'Mong the brighter deeds that grow. Every human form is chartered. Like the stately ships that move. Bearing a most precious cargo To the higher ports above. Then forsake not its high keeping. Lest, in future, God forsake ; — Seek repentance, cast out evil, Let thy better soul awake ! MAY. O, THERE was a maiden I loved, And she loved me they say ; But whether she loved me or not, I loved, And who will my love gainsay ? — the dreamy, voluptuous May, 1 have thought of her many a day, — How the flowers sprang up wherever she moved, And worshiped the beauteous May. O, she was the maid of my choice, The soul's pure, spotless bride ; And I ever fancy I hear her voice O'er the silver waters glide. the dreamy, voluptuous May, 1 have loved her for many a day, And whenever I see pure souls rejoice, I think of the passionate May. I saw her at first by the lake. The grej" moss cottage nigh. And I noticed the violets under the brake, Had stol'n the blue of her eye. the droamj', voluptuous May, 1 have missed her for many a day, — But I fancy each morn, as from sleep I awake, I feel the soft kisses of May. CORNEILIA, Scene. — An apartment in a convent. Corneilia and Bertha alone. Bertha observing the stars. " Look forth, sweet sister ! view yon knot of stars I Or, does it journey on from star to star. That brighten all the infinite fields above ; — Spending a fcAV brief pleasurable years See how they throw their long and shining bars In each of the many millions seen aiar ? — " Athwart the landscape ! Dost believe, sweet "No!" said Corneilia, "all those shining love, spheres That -when the worn out clod, to nature, yields That fill immensity with their rich dyes. The disembodied spirit, it doth walk those fields r | Are but so many flaming torches in our eyes. 16 Lighting the illimitable fields which we must tread. In spiritual sense, the beacon-lights that guide The soul to its inheritance o'erhcad ; And yet, they serve another end beside : They give to each — their sister planets — light ! Is it not glorious, thus, to do all things aright ?'' '• 'Tis but too true !" said Bertha, vvdth a sigh ; " Yet, how I love these wild imaginings ; If there was but a niche, in the broad sky That mounts above us, where our weary wings Might, for a moment, fold the spirit's breast, Till the immortal part grown strong with its brief rest — " "Nay!" said Corneilia, "the free sjiii-it doth . need Nor food nor rest, for thou must know that it Doth journey on M"ith an unusual speed. Since in a moment, brief, if God see fit, Nay, in the twinkling of a chance thought, loaned Unto the senses, the invisible part is throned Beside its Maker." "And shall M'e not meet Again, sweet friend, when the dark hour is past? — " " I trust so, dearest ! Nay, thy angel feet Will doubtless thread those shining courts at last, If God be merciful. As for me, I Shall go on before thee ; so, for a time, our ways may lie Divided. But remember 'tis the flesh, child, That dies ; the immortal spark survives. — " "And We shall meet again:" Corneilia smiled ! — " Yes, Bertha, we shall meet in that far land, That home of perfect rest which is of God ;" And Bertha answered, — " oh, that our feet had trod The shining pathwaj^ in our infancies ; Then had we known to taste the bliss of heaven !" Tears rose in her dark lustrous eyes. She paused ; the convent bell tolled eleven ! She gazed a moment at the watery moon, Then answered calmly, — "Death is a glorious boon !" Corneilia spake not ; but she gazed afar Into the world of shadows. Bertha paused I Had her bright spirit noted out some star More brilliant than the rest, that it had caused Such seeming absentment ? She looked again ! Corneilia seemed a spkit void of earthly stain. And there she sat, calm, thoughtful and content, As one who hears not, heeds not what you say; "While, one by one, climbing the steep ascent. The veteran stars pursue their perilous way. At last she spoke ; her voice was like the flow Of the unprison'd streams, silvering the vales below. " God is merciful !" she said, — " and he Avho earns Through faith, the substance of his promise, wins With the estate the title deeds thereof. He spurns All fear of Death. 'T is only him who sins That dreads the Conquerer. "rhe good, alone, Stand resolutely forth, and all their errors own. ■pi. Hollinger Corp. pH 8.5