-^^v IJTJTTUlJTJirUTJTJTJlJTJTJXIXnJ^^ WOMAN'S Battle ^VlTH 1^. \^ BOB INGERSOLL. MOUNTAIN LABURNIUM. CINCINNATI : PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR. 1884. mjTj-i/injTJTJXRnjuTTUTnrixuxmTJxmT^^ ^^' lhj LTLrb |S> WOMAN'S Battle BOB INGERSOLL. MOUNTAIN LABURNIUM. CINCINNATI : PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR. 1884. ^> 1*0 ©ot Ingef^oll. CAN WE DOUBT THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL? BY MOUNTAIN LABURNIUM. O, ponderous doors of thought give way, If thou hast led a soul astray ; Shin'e in the Gospel light of God, That he may see the ground he trod. Deny thy God for earthly fame ? O, hollow thought, O, hollow name! The slough of dark despond thou 'rt in, For doubts and fears I see begin. O, mortal man, return, repent, Before thy life is wholly spent. Was sin the mask that veiled from view. Or demagogues that plunged thee through, Between the stepping stones in mire, Or worldly fame thy love desire ? A Woman's Battle That Christ the helping hand might be, Draw out thy feet and set thee free. A war with God ye do engage, Remember Satan in his rage. Your argument is like a ball, 'T will strike thee back from solid wall. Proud, boasting man, thy laws to make. But heed ye not God's laws to break. The savage Indian roams the plain, Expects a spirit land to gain ; The God that dwells within his breast. Speaks of a spirit land of rest. O, beautiful and grand desire. That shines like diamonds from the mire. The link that holds twixt him and God, Or else twixt God and world, avoid. His wisdom speaks through dim and wild, The Father first and then the Child. And through his mind this problem sift, The Giver first, and then the gift. He feels a higher power above. That gave to him this life through love ; This garb of dust that hides the soul Till it can reach a better goal. And nature is his Bible, too, That teaches him all things so true. With Bob Ingersoll. I And nature all her laws hath made, That all her debts at last be paid. O, where 's the pay for death and pain, If there 's no other world to gain ! Is life the recompense reward, For all the ills this life afford ? And death the tolegate for our sins, Both saint and sinner enter in ? If nature rules both small and great. Then man has shared the worst of fate. A million objects move in space, And every one there keeps its. place. The sun ne'er dies before his time, All work to order as a rhyme. O! blighted buds, to dust return. Your race on earth was never run. Is there no world beyond the tomb In which those buds will burst and bloom.'' And where 's their glory and their pay. For living here but for one day.-^ And when they die, and leave us here. How near that world does then appear ? And while their spirits passing o'er, Catch we a glimpse of that bright shore. O! how we long to fly away, Care not in this dark world to stay. A Woman's Battle 'T is not the dust within the tomb That seems to come at evening gloom. Their image, all transformed so fair, That earthly dust can never wear. And whispering came from some sweet clime, And on their robes no trace of time. I hear them through this veil of dust, And gladly their sweet words I '11 trust. Their visions bring a healing balm Like to the breeze from waving palm. Take not the joy these visions give. If this dark life is all I live. Sow^ not your thorns this world around, For they will grow on the poorest ground. For if the seed of such you sow, Then thorns for harvest you will mow. And them that sow and them that grow In other worlds will pierce you through. Thou delved God's mysteries to find, ' And, wandering lone, and wandering blind, Thou strayed upon unknown ground. Where Satan sets his traps around ; - And, faltering in the gloomy shade. His snares and traps for thee have made. Mislead thy sense, distract thy thoughts. Till God's most precious gems are caught. With Bob Ingersoll. Let conscience guide thee from the dark, And work for man the better part. For death and judgment soon will come, Then cold in death thy lips be dumb, No prince or power can bring thee back. O! leave for friends a brighter track. Perhaps some friend, you loved most dear. When your pale face awaits the bier, Then softly to your side they '11 tread. As if a noise could wake the dead. Then your kind acts all come to view, Their fount of grief burst forth anew, O! dreadful thought of darkest gloom. If there 's no world beyond the tomb. * " Far better had he ne'er been born. Who reads to doubt or reads to scorn." Thy lips, not mine, condemn thee so ; Tiiey '11 dig thy pit in depths below. Beat back the dust that dims thy light. That walks by faith and not by sight. 'Tis natural, and 'tis just, 'tis so. That we poor creatures here below. Wish' that a record fair be found When we are mouldering under ground ; Our works the world may ever seek, In silent eloquence it speaks, * Byron. A Woman's Battle And seeking, find some truth most rare, And all our fruits some sweets to bear, It matters not where we are found, So we but toil and till the ground, And render back to God his dues — He gave thee talent as he chose. His silence speaks in deeper tones ; A thousand gifts to man he loans. Like man to man, his love display- In works, not words his lips might say. And must the Father ever be Present to prove himself to thee ? O! wondrous works, complete thy plan, Comparing thine to works of man. His starry fields at night go trace ; Seek wisdom in the moon's fair face. They whisper of a life to live That earthly joys can never give. Eternal peace that drowns my fears From boasting of man's bitter jeers. The slumbering sweets in deep repose Lie in the heart of every rose. We can not know that it is there Till burst its odors on the air. The sap within the tree lies deep, And seems to slumber and to sleep. With Bob Ingersoll. 9 Till Spring awakens it to life, And then it blooms in glory strife, Like spirits in their mansions dressed. Each lending beauty to the rest. Our joys and pains we can not see, But still we know such things there be ;, And each here lives his little day. And sees but little then away. And schools himself and works he wrought. Ah ! something lost for which he sought. Man seeks eternal rest to gain ; The price he pays is death and pain. Life pays for living here to all But man, on this terrestrial ball. The beasts and birds live heaven here, While man eternal death does fear. We can not always dwell below ; Both you and I erelong will know. O! Where's the happiness to gain, For doubting God, or Hell, and pain ? O! boasting dust, with speech sublime. Hold ye the reins of death and time ? Ah, well ye know that ye must die. Then make a heaven for you and I. Then change the earth from old to new ; Convince the world your creed is true. 10 A Woman's Battle Go calm the surging billows deep, And soothe the midnight winds to sleep. Suspend the rain from heaven to fall, And bring the seasons at thy call. Go move the sun at thy own will, And bid the silvery moon stand still. Please bring the stars, that I can see What all those twinkling things might be. O ! give me wings, that I might fly Up, up to wear 'em when I die. O ! God, to your bright home on high You've made for him as well as I. O ! snatch him as a burning brand, That he be able then to stand On those bright hills of God's above. Where angels sing through harps of love ; Eternal rivers gently glide. With healing trees on either side. And there 's a city paved with gold, And joys our lips have never told. For those that love and serve him here. But not for them that have a fear. O ! jasper walls, all garnished fair, And waving palm trees waving there. Beneath those palms those fountains play. And angels sing the livelong day. With Bob Ingersoll. 11 And there shall walk earth's godly kings, And nation's glory there he brings. And there my Savior then I '11 see, I '11 love him then for loving me. ! spirit child, that's just past o'er, 1 '11 meet you on that golden shore. And walk and talk for evermore, And part, no never, never more. And words that death had broken here I '11 wait, and wait with many a tear. Till open wide ye solid pearl, And I pass o'er your stones of beryl. You '11 be the first to meet me there. And take me to your mansion fair. And 'your sweet hands put on my crown. Your death, my cross, I 've then laid down. You '11 tell it with the same sweet voice That always made my heart rejoice, While walking through those streets of gold, And viewing scenes that ne'er grow old. And all our friends we once loved here, We '11 meet them there and still hold dear. When age on age away have rolled. Eternal beauties still unfold. O ! meet me on that brighter shore, Where deaths and fears will come no more ; 12 A Woman's Battle And hand in hand we *11 talk it o*er. Redeeming love for evermore. ! sound aloud ye trumps of gold — One straying sheep within the fold, O ! add a star unto my crown ; 1 pray such creed while here lay down ; And render love to God for love, Your creed to man, God's creed above. With Bob Ingersoll. 13 BOB INGERSOLL'S SAYINGS. *'It has delighted in the production of ex- tremes/' " Man should cease to expect aid from on high," *' Religion is tyrannical." "The supreme desire of his heart is to force all others to adopt his creed." "O! how long will they pursue phantoms in a darkness deeper than death." '*! Hke to have several millions of dollars^ and I may say I have a lively hope that some day I may be rich." "When women reason, and babes sit in the laps of philosophy, the victory of reason over the shadowy host of darkness will be complete." JVlountkiq I