MNCELINE R. FULLER. 
 
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 BY 
 
 ANGELINE A. FULLER. 
 
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 DETROIT, MICH.><->..: C ^.^ 
 
 J. N. WILLIAMS, 673 MICHIGAN AVENUE. 
 1883. 
 
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 COPYRIGHT, 1S8S, 
 
 BY 
 
 ANGELINE A. FULLER. 
 
TO THE READER. 
 
 Some of the following poems were com- 
 posed diirino: seasons of eye trouble, so severe 
 that blindness seemed inevitable, and were car- 
 ried in memory until a respite permitted their 
 commitment to paper; others were produced 
 on very short notice, in response to official re- 
 quest, privately made, or were arranged at 
 leisure, in obedience to public vote, for assem- 
 blao:es of the Deaf and Dumb, a class whose 
 position and experience is largely more prosy 
 than poetical. These, with others composed 
 under less embarassing circumstances, are now 
 submitted to the reading public, with much 
 regret for all imperfections, and an earnest 
 wish that, despite defects, they may aid in 
 furthering the educational interests of the sev- 
 eral classes mentioned in some of them. 
 
 A. A. F. 
 
 August, 1883. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 POEMS OF TFTE DEAF AND DUMB. 
 
 Scenes in the Hfstoiiy op the Deaf and Dumb, 9 
 
 commemouative, - - - - - 27 
 
 The Deaf-Mu IE Ai.umni Reunion, - - 34 
 
 To Whom is Honok Due ? - - - - 39 
 
 Opening H^ mn for a Deaf-Mute Convektion, 42 
 
 Closing Hymn For Same, - - - - 43 
 
 Ac!U)STic Verses, - - - - - 45 
 
 To a Deaf- Mute Foreigner, . . . . 4,ii 
 
 To A Hebrew Deaf Mu IE, - - - - 48 
 
 Hymn for the Unveiling op a Memorial Tablet, 51 
 
 Hymx for the Dkdication of a Chapel, - 55 
 
 To a Deaf-Mute Lady, - - - - - 56 
 
 The March of Progress, .... 59 
 
 The Blind Deaf-Mute, ----- 65 
 
 A Strange Half-Century, . . . . 67 
 
 A Challenge, - - - ... - 71 
 
 TEMPERANCE POEMS. 
 
 The Whisky -Jug's Revelation, - - - 75 
 
 The Pleasant Glass, ..... 75 
 
 A Pi-ea, -* 77 
 
 Help the Drunkard to Reform, - - - 78 
 
 For God and Humanity, .... 80 
 
THE UENTURE. 
 
 LOCAL POEMS. 
 
 Parental Lament on the Detxts of Twin I'oys, 86 
 
 Our Fkiend, ...... 88 
 
 InRemembkance, - - - - - 89 
 
 The Early Dead, - - - - 92 
 
 Suggestions, --.-.. 93 
 
 Parents' Treasures, - -. - - - 94 
 
 The Dead Mo 1 her, . . . - . 95 
 
 To Mothers, ..... 96 
 
 On the Death of a Cheld, . . . . V)7 
 
 A Lesson From Flowehs, - - - - 98 
 
 The Old Grave Digger, - - ' - - 101 
 
 SONGS AND HYMNS. 
 
 Music all Around Us, .... 104 
 
 A Centennial Hymn, - - - - - 105 
 
 To-day and Tomoukow. . . . . 108 
 
 God is Good and God ts Love, .... 109 
 
 The SriLLrxG OF Till-: Tempest, - - - 110 
 
 A Song OF Exultation, - - - - - 111 
 
 A Request, - - - - - - 118 
 
 A Thanksgiving Hymn, - - - - - 114 
 
 A Dollar OR Two, - - - - - 115 
 
 Count the Cost, - - - - - - 117 
 
 When We Forgive, - - - - - 119 
 
 Land Ahead, ...... 120 
 
 Bear and Forbear, . . . . . 121 
 
 Try to be Happy, - - - - - 132 
 
 We Shall Meet Again, . . . . 124 
 
 Truih Shall Triumph, ... - . 126 
 
 Lights Along the Shore, . . . . 127 
 
 The Aged Christian's Testimony, - - - 139 
 
 God and OuiisELViis, - - - - - 130 
 
6 THE UENTURE. 
 
 A Wedding Song, --.... 132 
 
 Makk Fi-owers Youu Friends, - - - 1^3 
 
 Reflections on Readfng the Fouty-Sixth Psalm, 1H4 
 
 We Nkkd Nor Sit Wi'iH FoLimD Hands, - - 185 
 
 Here and There, - - - - - - 137 
 
 TuusT IN God Always, .... 138 
 
 The Will of God, - - - - - 139 
 
 A Song Sugge<tp:d by a Song, - - - 141 
 
 Nothing is Lost, - - - -~ - - 142 
 
 The Voyagh: of Life, . - . . . 145 
 
 Sweet Memory Bells. . . . - . 146 
 
 Not Forevkr, - - - - - - 148 
 
 Ask Mh: Nor to Drink, . - . . . 149 
 
 A Song for the " AL\ke Home Happy" Army, - 151 
 
 Love and Flow k us, . . . . . 153 
 
 The Fikst Alarm, .... - I55 
 
 The Conflagration, -" - - - - 156 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 The Worth of Prayer, - - - - - 116 
 
 God's Patience and God's People, - - 169 
 
 A Story and a Sermon, . . . - . 174 
 
 Woman's Mission AND Woman's Work, - - 179 
 
 Thk Menagerie, . . . . - 182 
 
 Wonderings, - - - - - - 188 
 
 City Trees, ...... 184 
 
 Labor and Capital, - - - - - 186 
 
 Natal Bells, ...... 137 
 
 A Bit Of Blank Verse, - - - - 191 
 
 The Copy. - ..... 193 
 
 The One Name, - - - - - 195 
 
 A Protest. - 198 
 
 Friendship. ...... 199 
 
THE UENTURE. 7 
 
 The Value of a Soul, . . . . . oQO 
 
 A Proofof Immoutality, - - - - 2)1 
 
 Finished Wohk, -.-... 203 
 A Soliloquy, ..... 203 
 
 What I Would Do, - - - - - 206 
 
 When I Shall Be Satisfied, - - - 209 
 
 Bring Flowers, - - - - - - 210 
 
 Good and Better, - - - - 212 
 
 A Little While, - - - - - 218 
 
 Lines for a Youkg Lady's Album. - - 21 o 
 
 Counsel FOR the Teoub: ED, - - •- - 216 
 
 LiFi^: IS Like the Weathek, - - - 217 
 
 No Adverse Change Beyond the Grave, - - 220 
 
 True Rest, - - - - - - 221 
 
 Thanksgiving Lines, _ . . . . 222 
 
 The Bible, -.--.. £23 
 
 Where is Cliffie ? . . . . . . 224 
 
 To A New-Born Infant. . . . . 228 
 
 To Mary on Hek Wedding Day, - - - 2.0 
 
 After the Wedding, - - - - 231 
 
POEMS OF THE DEAF AND 
 
 DUMB. 
 
SCENES IN THE HISTORY OF THE DEAF 
 AND DUMB. 
 
 SCENE FIRST. 
 
 Behold a miracle! a bush on fire, 
 
 Burning intensely, burning unconsumed, 
 Note how the flames rise higher and yet higher, 
 
 And all the air around is high perfumed, 
 With odors richer far than any flower 
 
 Exhales at day^s first dawning, when the Sun 
 Drinks up the dew-drops and goes forth in power. 
 
 His daily journey leisurely to run. 
 To carry from the land of song and star 
 
 Brio^htness and warmth into the west afar. 
 
 Note further that each wave of perfumed light 
 
 Shimmers and shines as tho' the sun and moon 
 And all the stars of heaven, most fair and bright 
 
 With all their fc-rce of midnight and of noon, 
 Were multiplied ten thousand thousand times. 
 
 And then ten thousand times ten thousand more, 
 Until the number aggregates or climbs 
 
 Past computation's limit, mete or score; 
 
10 THE UENTURE. 
 
 Aye^ multiplied so brightly that it seems 
 Earth's every jewel in one casket gleams. 
 
 Well may the air be sweet, well may is shine 
 
 With wondrous radiance, such as was not seen 
 Ever before, for power we know Divine 
 
 Has touched that busli, erewhile so low, so mean, 
 A common thing, from which each passing brute 
 
 Might browse at pleasure, or by well-aimed blow 
 Break, nevermore to leaf or bloom or fruit. 
 
 Or thrive beneath the sun's most genial glow, 
 A bash to be, by any strong man doomed, 
 
 Uprooted, or by common fire consumed. 
 
 And see, near this vast pile of earth and rock 
 
 Known as Mount Horeb, Moses wends his way 
 Intent upon the pasture of his flock. 
 
 Intent on keeping evil beast at bay. 
 Thinking, perchance, of Egypt and the sin 
 
 Of sore oppression he had witnessed there, 
 Until his soul revolted, and from kin 
 
 He fled, unable more to see or bear. 
 Fled all alone, in horror and in grief, 
 
 To find with Strang jrs comfort and relief. 
 
 Behold his wonder when at first the sight 
 So wholly marv'lous, ^o unparalled, 
 
THE UENTURE. n 
 
 That it would fill a common soul with fright, 
 
 And even him in speechless wonder held 
 For a brief while, then shaking off all fear, 
 
 Of harm or danger, he right bravely cries, 
 ^^Not burnt, strange, very strange, I will draw near 
 
 To see this fire which flickers not nor dies, 
 But blazes on, surpassing everything 
 
 Of which historians talk or poets sing." 
 
 But harken now, for scarcely has his word 
 
 Of firm decision echoed on the air, 
 Or his broad breast, within so deeply stirred. 
 
 Drawn breath, more of the thrilling sight to bear, 
 When from the bush there emanates a sound, 
 
 A voice that thrills him to his bping's core. 
 And bends his soul in homage more profound 
 
 Than any voice had ever done before. 
 As it commanded, " Nay, do not draw near, 
 
 Take ofPthy shoes, the ground is holy here." 
 
 Having responded promptly :to his name 
 
 In the brave words of Abraham, "Here am I," 
 
 And bared his feet before the curious flame 
 Which while it rose so brilliantly, so high, 
 
 Made the whole plain a consecrated place 
 Henceforth, forevermore, while time endures, 
 
 A spot historian's pan would sometimes trace. 
 
12 THE UENTURE. 
 
 And venturous travMers visit in their tours, 
 A spot to prove till earth and time shall end 
 That our Creator also is our friend. 
 
 Fitting it was the astonished man should hide 
 
 His face in awe and listen in a maze 
 Of humble, solemn joy that he, denied 
 
 Awhile the right to walk earth's peopled ways, 
 Might in the lonely desert meet his Lord, 
 
 And learn from His own lips that He gave heed 
 To all His children's wrongs, and would accord 
 
 Judgment to their oppressors, and would lead 
 Them forth in triumph to a better land, 
 
 Where peace and plenty smile on every hand. 
 
 'Twas further fitting that he should reply : 
 
 '^I hear Thy words, and I would gladly go 
 Unto Thy people, who in anguish cry. 
 
 Yea, I to them Thy promises would show, 
 But who am I that I should be so blest. 
 
 So honored? Thou hast others fitter far 
 To lead Thy children to their longed-for rest, 
 
 Send them to be a guide, a morning star. 
 To those to whom Thy pledge was long since given 
 
 Of Thy best favors granted this side Heaven. 
 
 "Yea, I would gladly go, but much I fear 
 
 That tho' they long have prayed, are praying now, 
 
THE UENTURE. 13 
 
 For a deliverer, or for hope to cheer 
 
 Their hearts, until it please Thee to allow 
 Their servitude so very long and great 
 
 Entirely and forever more to cease, 
 And lead them forth unto their own estate, 
 
 Their promised land of liberty and peace, 
 Me for their leader they will not receive, 
 
 Nor that Thou sendest me at all believe/' 
 
 Quickly the Lord whose glory made the place 
 
 So wonderful, made answ^er : " Do not fear 
 To do my bidding, I will give thee grace 
 
 For all the way that seems so long and drear. 
 Haste, bravely ha^te upon thine honored way, 
 
 Bid the proud tyrant set my people free, 
 Go without fear of evil night or day, 
 
 For I — certainly I — will go with thee, 
 To end the long, dark night of cruel woe, 
 
 And to their rest my chosen people show," 
 
 Meekly again the favored man replied: 
 
 *'I am not eloquent, but slow of speech, 
 Is there no other better qualified 
 
 Thy chosen people to lead forth and teach? 
 I have no lack of love for Thine nor Thee, 
 
 But he should have the power quickly to sway 
 The people's minds who dares a guide to be, 
 
U TEE EENTURE, 
 
 Or Thj commands befor3 them seeks to lay; 
 And since my speech is poor, my tongue is slow. 
 Choose a more fitting guide, and bid him go/' 
 
 Brighter, far brighter then, glowed the strange fire, 
 
 Shimmered more grandly, every twig and leaf — 
 Higher the flames rose upward, and yet higher ; 
 
 A pause ensued — a silence deep, but brief — 
 And then the Lord by questions made reply : 
 '^Who made man's mouth? who made the deaf 
 and dumb? 
 Say, did not I, the Lord? and cannot I 
 
 In any time of need bid words to come? 
 Fear not, for surely I Avill go with thee, 
 
 I, the I AM, thy help, thy guide will be. 
 
 " But since thou art so diffident, so meek. 
 
 Behold thy brother, Aaron, he shall be 
 To thee a mouth, and through him thou shalt speak 
 
 Whatev^er I communicate to thee. 
 Fear neither king nor people, Lo ! the rod 
 
 Thou boldest now, and even thine own hand 
 Shall henceforth be a sign that I, the God 
 
 Of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, ail, command^ 
 Anoint, appoint and full commission thee 
 
 To lead my captives forth to liberty. 
 
THE UENTURE. 15 
 
 SCENE SECOND. 
 
 Right well the Promiser His promise kept, 
 
 And with wise words in every hour of need, 
 Filled each old prophet's mouth, and Israel slept 
 
 Or waked or journeyed, as His word decreed, 
 Until at last they gained the promised land. 
 
 And safely dwelt, blessing and being blest. 
 Till, seeing thev to evil gave a hand. 
 
 Affliction entered in, their faith to test. 
 And teach that God is ever watching near. 
 
 And notes all lack of love or trust or fear. 
 
 Then when they cried for help, wise prophets came. 
 
 Telling them of a time, a happy day, 
 When by repentance they again could claim 
 
 Muoh they possessed before they went astray, 
 Saying the lame should sometime nimbly leap. 
 
 The blind should see with strong and perfect eyes, 
 The deaf hear plainly, and joy yet more deep. 
 
 The dumb, no longer dumb, return replies. 
 And every age should know and should declare, 
 
 God for the suffering has a special care. 
 
 And while the years went by, the wondrous years, 
 
 Working their chancres great and manifold, 
 Men nursed high hopes, or sadly talked of fears, 
 
16 THE FENTURE. 
 
 Prayed, toiled and strov^e for bread, for land and 
 ^ gold, 
 
 And as their fancy or their means decreed, 
 
 They builded temples in which Science, Art, 
 Religion, Learning, each could garner seed, 
 
 Of which all devotees could take a part, 
 And carry forth to strcAV with generous hand. 
 
 Broadcast, to bless and beautify the land. 
 
 Aye, more, they builded Homes, wherein the lame. 
 
 The sick, ihe weak, could find a place of rest. 
 When those who were their friends only in name, 
 
 Forsook them, left them helpless and distressed ; 
 Homes, into which the suffering ones could go, 
 
 Until the storm of trouble should pass by. 
 Or they could drink their mingled cup of woe, 
 
 And calmly, quietly lie down to die. 
 Aye, for all such every enlightened age 
 
 Left a fair record upon historic page. 
 
 But tho' the Lord so plainly had declared 
 
 That He, himself had made the deaf and dumb, 
 
 And had His word of honor pledged. He cared 
 For each, for all of them, and gave them some 
 
 Portion and share and interest due, and claim. 
 In every right or privilege of the age, 
 
 In which they lived, rights dear even in name, 
 
THE UENTURE. 17 
 
 Alike to the uncultured and the sage — 
 Aye, gave them of all these a liberal share, 
 And cared for them with loving father care. 
 
 They were passed by, neglected, doomed to scorn, 
 
 Considered brainless, soulless, useless things, 
 Men even cursed the house where such wxre born, 
 
 And wounded them with worse than scorpion 
 stings ; 
 Grudged them their food, even grudged them light 
 and air, 
 
 And took their life, without regret or shame. 
 As if their cry for help — their dying prayer 
 
 For justice could not — would not — -have a claim 
 In Heaven^s high courts, as if the Lord had not 
 
 Vowed care for them, or had his vow forgot. 
 
 SCENE THIRD. 
 
 Haste with me now across the bridge that spans 
 
 The gulf of centuries and with me behold 
 Another miracle, angelic bands 
 
 Filling the eastern horizon, their harps of gold 
 Echoing sweetest music, and they sing 
 
 A song ne'er heard by sin-marked men before — 
 O, blessed song — earth has at last a King — 
 " Peace and good will V^ Hate, give thy warfare 
 oe'r : 
 
18 THE UENTURE, 
 
 Man need no longer live to sin a slave — 
 Immaxual comes to mediate and save. 
 
 Proper it was^ a new, a brilliant star 
 
 Should rise upon that blessed, blessed morn — 
 Rise to proclaim to earth both near and far. 
 
 The glorious tidings that at last was born 
 The true Messiah, who would break the night — 
 
 The long, dark night of fear which sin had Avrought, 
 Bring immortality and Heaven to light, - 
 
 By pure, redeeming love, passing all thought, 
 In measure so immense, no word but so 
 
 Its height nor depth nor length nor breadth can 
 show. 
 
 A king who comes in pride and pomp to reign 
 
 May look unpityingly on others' grief, 
 And leave the sufferers to endure their pain 
 
 Till in death's slumbers they can find relief; 
 But He, the King of Glory, could not go 
 
 Past suffering thus. His mission was to heal 
 Whom sin had wounded, and by deeds to show 
 
 Where'er He went since He might not conceal 
 That in the form of weak humanity 
 
 He held the power of true divinity. 
 
THE UENTURE, 19 
 
 Therefore he helped the weak — the hungry fed, — 
 
 Let palsied captives from their bondage go — 
 He healed the sick — called back to life the dead, 
 
 And bade the mourners' tears no longer flow; 
 He touched blind eyes, and lo I they clearly see ; 
 
 He said EphpJiatlia to the lips long dumb, 
 Applied to silent ears the mystic key 
 
 Of firm command, and bade sweet echoes come, 
 Then left the happy throngs their joy to tell 
 
 In grateful praise — " He doeth all things well." 
 
 O, favored eyes,^ that opening to the light 
 
 Looked first upon their Saviour ; doubly dear, 
 O, favored ears, that waking from a night 
 
 Of utter silence, first of sounds could hear 
 The Master's voice, and with the lips long dumb 
 
 Speak first to Him, and thank Him for His love. 
 That matchless love, which prompted Him to come 
 
 From all the glory of His home above 
 To take from death its sting, the grave its gloom, 
 
 And save the sinful from their righteous doom. 
 
 SCENE FOUETH. 
 
 Again haste with me o'er the bridge of time, 
 
 See, we stand now upon our native soil ; 
 It is the hour for vesper bells to chime, 
 
20 THE UENTURE. 
 
 The hour when men can rest awhile from toil. 
 When children love on grassy plats to play, 
 
 See, there a group is busy at a game; 
 And there, apart from them a little way, 
 
 Stands one w4io will not answer to her name. 
 However loudly they may bid her come, 
 
 For slie, alas ! is deaf — is deaf and dumb ! 
 
 Has God no pity for the stricken child ? 
 
 Does He not care that she is so alone?. 
 Will He not heed her wish^ her anxious prayer 
 
 Which she can utter only in a moan ? 
 O, question not, O, question not — He cares, 
 
 He loves the stricken one^ and even now 
 Counts over all her tears and voiceless prayers 
 
 For a deliverer, let us meekly bow, 
 Our heads in reverent awe and drop a tear 
 
 Of thankful joy that help at last is near. 
 
 She is no common-fated, short-lived one, 
 
 No pretty picture upon which to gaze 
 A little while, then toss aside or shun 
 
 For grander things ; where'er her pathway lays 
 Her name in history's page henceforth will fill 
 
 An honored place, as sure as Justice weighs 
 True merit. Doubt and fear be still, be still. 
 
 Though nothing now the embryo fact betrays, 
 
THE I/ENTURE. 21 
 
 A gratefulj happy girl is waiting here, 
 A woman famous for all time is near. 
 
 And help is coming, tho' she knows it not, 
 
 Xear by a student, weary with his book, 
 Lays it aside and saunters to the spot, 
 
 Awhile upon the merry group to look ; 
 And now his eye, his Heaven- directed eye, 
 
 Rests on the silent, isolated one, 
 I^ook ! hark ! he heaves a sympathizing sigh. 
 
 And questions earnestly — ^'Can naught be done 
 To set her captive thoughts and feelings free 
 
 And give her mind its natural liberty?" 
 
 Surely an angel must have told the child 
 
 He was no common man for her to fear; 
 Look, she upon his first advance has smiled. 
 
 And shakes her head, meaning, " I can not hear," 
 Alas, poor child ; others can say the same. 
 
 Like you, to Heaven for help they long have cried. 
 And God at last acknowledges their claim. 
 
 And sets the door of mercy open wide ; 
 But he who longs to teach you first must turn 
 
 To sunny France, a method there to learn. 
 
 For there the Abbe de I'Eppe waits 
 
 To teach by graceful movements of the hands 
 
22 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 A way which will, despite each one Avho prates 
 
 Against it, break effectually the bands 
 Which have so long held dormant precious powers, 
 
 And doomed full many a noble heart and mind 
 To idle days, to lonely wretched hours, 
 
 To ignorance and all its ills combined, 
 Waits now, surrounded by a little group, 
 
 The heralds of a vast, exultant troop. 
 
 O, blessed, truly blessed, ^ire the hours 
 
 When looking down upon His suffering ones, 
 God notes their sorrows and their fettered powers, 
 
 Xotes how ao;:ainst them time's strono; current runs, 
 Notes till His father heart can bear no more. 
 
 And cries ^^ Enough," and bids deliverance speed 
 To compass land and sea, nor once give o'er 
 
 Their searching for relief till they are freed 
 Who cry for help. Such hours are highly blest 
 
 And are of gratitude the constant test. 
 
 SCENE FIFTH. 
 
 Love is a wondrous leveller indeed; 
 
 The old and young turn twins at its command; 
 And aliens, at any time, by it decreed, 
 
 Though ears be deaf, and lips be wholly dumb, 
 Ey es say in tones most sweetly eloquent. 
 
THE UENTURE. 23 
 
 "Fear not, sweet heart, for I will surely come, 
 Yes we, God willing, will clasp hands again ; 
 
 A little while our paths must lie apart, 
 And till I come, good-bye, fear not, sweet heart/' 
 
 And though the absence be prolonged for years. 
 
 The kind "God bless you, we again shall meet V^ 
 The anxious, waiting heart sustains and cheers, 
 
 While faith and hope the assuring words repeat. 
 And fancy, at its pleasure, gaily builds 
 
 Air-castles most magnificiently grand; 
 Or fond anticipation brightly gilds 
 
 The blessed sometime, when they two shall stand 
 Together, who, though bound in mind and heart 
 
 By sympathy, awhile must walk apart. 
 
 Surely, O, surely, many an angel band 
 
 Hovered about the honored ship that bore 
 That noble student from his native land 
 
 On his grand mission; surely, too, before. 
 Aye, with, and after him, God's blessing went; 
 
 And he was kindly guided, day by day. 
 Favored and prospered, and was duly sent 
 
 Proudly rejoicing on his homeward way. 
 Bringing a brother helper, 'round whose name 
 
 Justice would sometime twine a wreath of fa n ( 
 
24 - THE UENTURE, 
 
 And just as surely angels hovered near 
 
 That stricken girl, whose isolated state 
 Challenged that good man^s pity, till all fear 
 
 Of danger or of failure, small or great, 
 Was cast aside, and very often they 
 
 Fed her with hopes — sweet manna of the soul — 
 Or showed her pictures of that happy day 
 
 When from her life the heavy cross should roll 
 And she, with fervent, grateful joy elate 
 
 Could pr(»mise others freedom yet more great. 
 
 SCENE SIXTH. 
 
 A ship is slowly sailing into port. 
 
 Fire a salute, let all the land be glad. 
 Proclaim a gala day of rest and sport. 
 
 Sing thankful songs till not a heart is sad. 
 Call that poor stricken girl, a maiden now. 
 
 Bid her with grateful kiss of welcome haste 
 To meet him ; bid her make a solemn vow 
 
 Ever to keep his name in memory traced; 
 Ever to honor him who holds a key 
 
 That soon will set her captive senses free. 
 
 Nor hers alone — give God his dues of praise, 
 His mercy is not narrow in its scope. 
 
 He sets no favored few near joy's warm blaze 
 Leaving the many in cold gloom to grope, 
 
THE UENTURE, 25 
 
 He hears, He heeds each dumb child's eager prayer, 
 And from their lonely, isolated wolds 
 
 Will in His own good time, witli loving care, 
 Gather them into safe and happy folds, 
 
 Where signs will picture or will echo sound, 
 And break their silence, partial or profound. 
 
 O, blessed work, to break the prisoner's chains ! 
 
 O, happy task, to give the hungry food! 
 O, joy untold, to ease the sufferer's pains ! 
 
 Or see that rugged paths with flowers are strewed, 
 And all this blessedness was theirs who gave 
 
 Sound to the deaf and language to the dumb ; 
 Who told them of the Christ that came to save, 
 
 And made them heirs of happiness to come. 
 This was their angel work, though hard and slow, 
 
 And challenges respect from friend and foe. 
 
 Write, proudly write their names, Gallaudet, 
 Cleec ; 
 
 Paint them in letters of the richest gold, 
 Carve them in marble, mention them in verse. 
 
 Of grandest measure, and have often told 
 In prose most eloquent, how they have wrought 
 
 Emancipation from a bondage dire. 
 Have 2:iven to Heaven-created will and thought 
 
26 ' THE UENTURE, 
 
 PoAver to reach outward, onward and aspire^ 
 With hopes of realization, to great heights 
 Of all that here ennobles or delights. 
 
 Call them philanthropists or call them friends, 
 
 But love and honor them forevermore, 
 And long as vapors rise or dew descends 
 
 Hold blest the day they stej^ped upon our shore. 
 The ship they came in perished long ago, 
 
 And they long since were summoned from the 
 field 
 Wherein they toiled so faithfully to sow 
 
 Seed that each year returns more bounteous yield, 
 And grateful reapers noAV throughout the land 
 
 Gather the harvest and pronounce it grcmd! 
 
 Gather, then look with hopeful hearts aw^ay 
 
 Toward the future, because teachers wait 
 In phalanx deep, and deepening every day, 
 
 E'en to the borders of our mighty State; 
 Brave men, Avhose names 'tis honor to repeat ; 
 
 Fair women, wise in love's mysterious lore; 
 All, all great hearts, whom, though they never meet. 
 
 They feel are friends, true to the inmost core, 
 Whose plea, whose boast, throughout all time to come, 
 Shall rightly be, "We taught the deaf and dumb." 
 
THE UENTURE. 2'r 
 
 COMMEMORATIVE. 
 
 On the auuiversaiy of the fouuding of the first school for the 
 Deaf and Dumb in America. Arranged for the celebration of the 
 ninetj-third birthday of the founder, the Rev. Thomas Hopkins 
 Gallaudet, Friday, December 10, 1880. 
 
 The years, the years, the wouder-freighted years, 
 
 How fast they fly upon their silent way! 
 Bearing with them alike our hopes and fears, 
 
 And all that makes the story of each day; 
 Bearing all to that sea without a shore, 
 
 That circle, which, because it has no end, 
 We call Eternity, and evermore. 
 
 By varying paths, our way around it wend. 
 
 Behold what monuments the years have built, 
 
 Not in the form of pyramids alone ; 
 Not in the shape of brass nor bronze high gilt, 
 
 Nor solid gold, nor marble, granite, stone. 
 Piled up in useless grandeur here and there. 
 
 As man decrees, throughout the sea-girt land. 
 To please our whimsey fancies and declare 
 
 The cunning skill of his own brain and hand. 
 
 Not in the form of tombs, to tell us where 
 
 Rest those who have achieved some proud success, 
 
 Those who are strong to venture, do or dare. 
 Or suffer, others' sufferings to redress; 
 
28 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 IS'ot in such forms time's noblest work appears, 
 For soon, full soon, sucli crumble and decay, 
 
 And by the years, the wonder-working years. 
 Are ruined, swept entirely away. 
 
 But in the far more glorious, lasting form 
 
 Of homes whereinto each poor, moaning one 
 Whom fate sends forth to wander in the storm 
 
 Of bleak adversity, whom proud souls shun, 
 The maimed, the sick, demented, blind and deaf. 
 
 The idiotic even — all assured 
 That they shall find some measure of relief. 
 
 Be cheered, be taught, relieved, or wholly cured. 
 
 Such are the grandest monuments of Time, 
 
 Though very plain or homely they may be. 
 And each one hallows every inch of ground 
 
 Whereon it stands — and to it proudly flee 
 As to a Mecca, many a grateful heart. 
 
 That it with pilgrim reverence may pay 
 Its tithes, its homage true, and then depart 
 
 Stronger, to press upon its rugged way. 
 
 And every year which sees such structures rise 
 And open to each burdened, suffering heart. 
 
 Which sees them nursed, or healed, or kindly cheered, 
 Or taught to act in life a worthy part, 
 
THE UENTURE, 29 
 
 Is a rare golden link in Time\s vast chain, 
 Firm welded, which shall glitter evermore, 
 
 Glitter when we are done with grief and pain, 
 And stand triumphant on the spirit shore. 
 
 And they who plan these monumental piles 
 
 And labor others' sufferings to redress. 
 Labor undaunted long as heaven smiles, 
 
 To make the sum of earth's great misery less. 
 Are kings and queens, though never robe nor crown 
 
 Nor sceptre shall be given them here below, 
 Their throne is grateful hearts, their diadem 
 
 The joy which but the self-forgetting know. 
 
 This, but as preface, ye who meet to-day 
 
 In one of these grand monumental homes, 
 Whose history, were it fully traced, would lay 
 
 Not in mere volumes, but in costly tomes, 
 Be more than glad for what the years have wrought. 
 
 Be more than pleased for what your eyes behold. 
 Be jubilant, exultant, strange the thought. 
 
 Yet these plain walls the very earth enfold. 
 
 Enfold and influence, silently, yet sure 
 
 As shines the sun by day, the moon by night, 
 
 As gleam the stars, the \ronder-waking stars. 
 In constellations gloriously bright; 
 
30 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 Influences as does a mother true, 
 
 Through memory, her child, her Avandering child, 
 Whom if she did not with fond love pursue, 
 
 Might soon be ruined, lost or sin-defiled. 
 
 Do any doubt? Of late to me there came 
 
 Hoar-headed, wise, benignant, loyal, true, 
 Men who reflect high honor on the name 
 
 Of that blest mental mother, Avho can do 
 Right — though they in the doing stand alone, 
 
 Riffht — thouo:h the thouo-htless sneer and laud the 
 wrong. 
 Right — sure that while to God all things are known 
 
 They are themselves an host — a mighty throng. 
 
 They came to me, not knowing I would heed 
 
 Their coming much, or ever sing their praise, 
 !N^ot conscious that the words they dropped were 
 
 seed. 
 Which would take root, and bear in after days 
 
 Blossoms of earnest thought, and purpose firm. 
 Wherein my mind and heart, and as is meet, 
 
 Would make their manes, to me, in proper term, 
 Incense," forever precious, fresh and sweet. 
 
 u 
 
 And they are but a few among the host. 
 Of noble men and women, who this hour 
 
THE UENTURE. 31 
 
 Staiicling on life's fair verge, can proudly boast 
 Thev saAV the biicl of what is now the flower, 
 
 Trod those dear halls as children, ignorant, weak, 
 As trembling prisoners, without power to tell 
 
 Whence they had come, or whither they would go, 
 When time had broken silence' horrid spell. 
 
 Trod them as youths, emancipated, saved. 
 
 From such a fate as would make angels weep, 
 When thinking on it ; trod with senses laved 
 
 Not only in the founts which wise men keep 
 Open to all ; but at that freer fount 
 
 Of spiritual knowledge — by the light 
 Of which we upward from earth's darkness mount, 
 
 And cross in happy triumph death's cold tide. 
 
 Trod them as heralds of a growing class 
 
 Who should throughout all time excite the cry — 
 "What hath God wrought?" How doth he kindly pass 
 
 Mercy around, when voiceless sufferers cry, 
 How doth he love his children and declare 
 
 His love by blessing with impartial hand, 
 By making man his agent and his heir. 
 
 And honoring him in every age and laud. 
 
 A class that should pursue earth's winding ways 
 As artists, scholars, winning wealth and fame, 
 
32 THE UENTURE, 
 
 As noble laborers^ anxious to bequeath 
 To their descendants an unsullied name^ 
 
 That grandest legacy which man can leave 
 His heirs or country, when at last he lies 
 
 Cold in the arms of death, and fond hearts grieve^ 
 Venting their sorroAV by their tears and sighs. 
 
 This theme is grand, so grand I long to dip 
 
 My pen in lurid tire, thei'eby to trace 
 More perfectly the joy-inspiring scenes 
 
 AVhich enter in and cluster round this place, 
 This anniversary day, lo ! angels come 
 
 To hover near and sing triumphal songs 
 Of praise to him who made the deaf and dumb, 
 
 And unto whom our loftiest praise belongs. 
 
 Let the warm-hearted South and generous East 
 
 Clasp hands to-day in kind, fraternal love. 
 The pioneers — the fathers — let them come 
 
 In spirit, from their blessed home above. 
 Come to this honored Mother, who has borne 
 
 So many mental offspring — children Avho 
 But for their mutual love perchance had worn 
 
 The heaviest shackles life's whole journey through, 
 
 Come, and with her, and all who hold her dear,, . 
 Rejoice, exult, that many, O, many a child 
 
THE UENTURE. 33- 
 
 Who once seemed doomed to live in stnpid fear 
 
 And die in ignorance, all sin-defiled, 
 Is now a happy sonl, fully prepared 
 
 To act in life a worthy, noble part, 
 And go whene'er its summons is declared 
 
 To meet the Judge with an unfearing heart. 
 
 Call it a vine, a rare and precious vine, 
 
 ^^^hich, not a century since, was planted here, 
 Planted in faith and watched assidiously 
 
 With anxious, alternating hope and fear; 
 Behold it now, a massive, fruitful thing, * 
 
 O'ershadowing e'en the borders of our State 
 At every compass point, and witnessing 
 
 Each year a transformation still more great 
 
 Blest evermore, be they — the pioneers 
 
 Who bravely this great march of progress led ; 
 Who struggled nobly through all doubts and fears. 
 
 Till all uncertainity and doubt were dead. 
 May ceaseless benedictions on them fall; 
 
 May heaven's high arches with their praise resound • 
 May all the deaf wh(> live or are to live 
 
 Cherish their names with reverence profound. 
 
 Blest be their names! and may their mantles fall 
 Each generation upon spirits brave. 
 
S4 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 Brave, eager to respond to Diity^s eall^ 
 To toily GocVs lowly ones to help, to save 
 
 From snifering in Its many-sided forms 
 
 Of darkness, ignorance, sloth and shame and sin, 
 
 To guide them lovingly through earth's bleak storm? 
 Safely the pearly gates of heaven within. 
 
 THE DEAF-MUTE ALITMXI REUNIOX. 
 
 From the city and the village, 
 
 From the hillside and the vale, 
 They have journeyed, they have gathered, 
 
 Stalwart men, and Avomen frail, 
 Drawn together by a yearning 
 
 In their childhood's haunts to stand, 
 In a sacred Hall of learning 
 
 Lo ! they meet — a goodly baud. 
 
 Hands unclasped for years are shaken, 
 
 Hearts rejoice that long have wept, 
 Visions long forgot awaken 
 
 From some nook in which they slept; 
 Eyes will read in eyes the story 
 
 Of the hopes that soon decayed : 
 Friend to friend will show the records 
 
 Which the changeful years have made. 
 
THE I/ENTURE. 35 
 
 Truthful memory is busy, 
 
 Talking to each mind and heart, 
 Showing pictures, perfect pictures, 
 
 Of the things that were apart 
 Of tlieir l:>eing, when they gathered, 
 
 Silent, trembling and afraid, 
 Here within these walls where learning: 
 
 Of them what they are has made. 
 
 Other forms than those around them 
 
 Each one seems again to see; 
 Other faces smile upon them, 
 
 Full of innocence and glee; 
 Teachers, school-mates, dead and living, 
 
 They behold them all once more, 
 As they saw them, as they knew them 
 
 In the happy days of yore. 
 
 Yet no one would change the present 
 
 For those happy, careless hours, 
 All well know themselves the richer 
 
 For emancipated powers. 
 Life and Time, then valued lightly, 
 
 Now of precious worth are known, 
 And for promise, budding brightly, 
 
 liOvelv flowers and fruits are shown. 
 
;^6 THE UENTURE, 
 
 Feeling this emaneipatiou 
 
 That a silent force has brought, 
 Conscious of the transformation 
 
 That a little time has wrousrht. 
 Looking at the Past and Present, 
 
 Joy and gratitude are blent, 
 And as incense to " Our Father/' 
 
 Praise from every heart is sent. 
 
 Friendship will be stronger, purer, 
 
 Faith in God and man more true. 
 Wisdom's final triumph surer, 
 
 And this further good accrue — 
 Each with greater zeal will labor 
 
 To make life a thing sublime, 
 And forever be the richer 
 
 For this one reunion time. 
 
 There must come an hour of parting. 
 
 But from it I turn away, 
 For before my mind is darting 
 
 Visions of another day 
 When earth's silent ones shall gather 
 
 In Our Father's House to dwell 
 Where their loosened tongues shall never 
 
 Speak life's saddest word — " Farewell. 
 
 7? 
 
THE UENTURE. S7 
 
 THE PLEASURES OF REUNION. 
 
 They meet again, the man of years, 
 The matron grave, the stalwart youth, 
 
 The maiden in whose face appears 
 The proofs of innocence and truth. 
 
 And hands are clasped, or hard or soft, 
 As different toils have set their seal, 
 
 And eyes and fingers question oft 
 ^^What is your story, woe or weal?" 
 
 They meet, and while the moments whirl 
 Laughter and smiles attest their joy, 
 
 The matron seems again a girl. 
 The man a mischief-loving boy. 
 
 But that is all, no word is heard 
 Which waiting echo might repeat. 
 
 To prove how much each heart is stirred 
 Or that they hold reunion sweet. 
 
 For ears are deaf and tongues are dumb. 
 Each has a life-long cross to bear; 
 
 The song of birds, the bees' grave hum 
 Are pleasures which they may not share. 
 
 Yet sense sometimes grows more acute 
 When to a double duty brought. 
 
38 THE UENTURE. 
 
 Hands swiftly move, tho' lips be mute, 
 And signs may image every thought. 
 
 Therefore they meet again to-day, 
 Who met of old — a wordless band, 
 
 To tell how ignorance fled away 
 
 When Wisdom moved her gracious Avand. 
 
 And praise the while the sovereign source 
 Of life and wisdom for the key 
 
 Which, while it moved with silent force. 
 From silence's chains has set them free. 
 
 They meet again Avho pledged to be 
 True friends in every time of need. 
 
 To own that Friendship is a sea 
 
 Whereon to launch and sail with heed. 
 
 They meet who spoke love's solemn vow. 
 Then broke it in a careless hour. 
 
 To read from eye and cheek and brow 
 Love is a thing of life-time power. 
 
 They meet again — but yet not all, 
 For here and there a vacant place 
 
 Gives answer when the roll we call 
 
 That death holds some in close embrace. 
 
THE I/ENTURE. -^^ 
 
 Yet they and all Avho now are met 
 
 May meet again, a perfect band, 
 And with no shadow of regret 
 
 Before the Lord, "Our Father," stand. 
 
 There neither grieving nor appalled. 
 That here they held reunion dear. 
 
 To answer when the roll is called 
 
 The joyful chorus, "Here, all here." 
 
 TO AYHOM IS HONOR DUE? 
 
 Composed for the unveiling of a Memorial Portrait of Horatio 
 Nelson Hubbeil, the first Superintendent of the Ohio Institution for 
 the Education of the Deaf and Dumb, and read at the Fifth Reunion 
 of its Alumni, held at Columbus, Ohio, September 1st to 3d, 1882. 
 
 Honor is not alone for those 
 
 AYho rule in haughty pomp and power, 
 For whom the people shout " long live," 
 
 And pay large tribute every hour. 
 No, no, else w^e might surely think 
 
 Justice was growing basely partial. 
 And we, to check her foolish freak, 
 
 Opposing influence must marshal. 
 
 Honor is not alone for those 
 
 Who by some deed of strength or daring 
 Surprise the world and set the throng 
 
40 THE UENTURE, 
 
 Wonderingly listening, talking, staring, 
 No, no, such may deserve some praise, 
 
 Embodied in a song or story, 
 But not to them in after days 
 
 Accrues the most enduring glory. 
 
 Unselfish labor for the weal 
 Of others — the oppressed, rejected, 
 
 The ignorant, isolated, who 
 So greatly, sadly, are afflicted. 
 
 In liberty, right and privilege, 
 Such as true souls deem worth securing, 
 
 This challenge, yes, this demands. 
 Honor most fervent, most enduring. 
 
 Better, ah ! better far, to strive 
 With self-renouncing love to brighten 
 
 The lot of others; better far 
 Their sorrows, burdens, cares to lighten, 
 
 Than selfishly seek transient pleasure. 
 Or toil for wealth that any time 
 
 May vanish like the dew, the vapor, 
 The rainbow gay, the glittering rime. 
 
 Better, ah ! better far, to live 
 Meek doers of some humble duty 
 
 That makes the Avorld a happier place. 
 
THE UENTURE. 41 
 
 Adds to its store of use and beauty^ 
 
 Than seek for fame in ways pronounced 
 
 By the cold-hearted^ calculating, 
 The safest, the most sure to prove 
 
 Quickly and largely compensating. 
 
 Earth has no heroes more exalted 
 Than those who hold these doctrines true, 
 
 Who prove their faith by boldly doing 
 Whatever Mercy bids them do, 
 
 Be it to teach in voiceless manner. 
 Or act the foster-parent's part. 
 
 Or do yet lowlier w^ork, they merit 
 The honor of each grateful heart. 
 
 Let no mean, sordid spirit whisper 
 "Waste not your means, they had their pay,'' 
 
 Gold is not full remuneration 
 For labor that affects alway. 
 
 For blessings reaching outward upward. 
 Past earth, past time, so very far 
 
 That God alone can know or measure 
 Exactly what their limits are. 
 
 Say then, upon worth's hallowed altar 
 With grateful, willing, liberal hand, 
 Memorials, graceful and substantial, 
 
42 THE UENTURE, 
 
 Perpetuations that shall stand, 
 In silent eloquence attesting 
 
 We duly value, duly prize 
 
 All self-forgetting thought and labor 
 
 That tends to make us good and wise. 
 
 OPENING HYMN FOR THE SUNDAY SER- 
 YICES OF A DEAF-MUTE CONYENTION. 
 
 Deaf to all sound, we can not raise 
 Heavenward an oral hymu of praise, 
 
 Of doubly grateful praise that we 
 Once bound, benighted, now are free. 
 
 Free from afar with glad accord 
 To meet before our common Lord, 
 
 Free with our minds, our hearts, (»ur hands 
 To yield the worship He demands. 
 
 Free in His Holy Word to read 
 
 The doctrine of one faith, oue creed, 
 
 One church, its corner-stones to be 
 Truth, mercy, love and charity. 
 
 Free, any moment, anywhere. 
 
 With humble, importuning prayer 
 
 To turn to him, fully assured. 
 Christ has our audience secured. 
 
THE UENTURE. 43 
 
 And we are sure that He, whose ear 
 Even our secret thoughts can hear, 
 
 Will not disdain the voiceless praise 
 Which we in rapturous concert raise. 
 
 Father Supreme, whose sovereign will 
 
 Wisely decrees that we shall fill 
 A marked, peculiar people's place 
 
 Witnessing to thy power, thy grace. 
 
 Now while we reverently adore 
 
 Bless us each one, and more and more 
 
 Make us peculiar — all thine own, 
 >To live and toil for thee alone. 
 
 CLOSING HYMN FOR THE SAME SEEYICES. 
 
 While sweet-toned organs proudly peal 
 
 And millons of enchanted souls 
 In concert sin 2^ or meeklv kneel 
 
 Praising the being who controls 
 Omnipotently sea and land 
 
 All nature, and celestial spheres ; 
 Moves life and death by His command. 
 
 And proves his power through all the years. 
 
 We, deaf to every oral sound. 
 
 With voice untuned but heart aglow, 
 
44 THE UENTURE. 
 
 With love and joy, intense, profound, 
 Such as the grateful only know, 
 
 Have met to-day, a goodly band 
 
 From near and far, that we may raise 
 
 With soul and mind and heart and hand 
 Our voiceless songs of rapturous praise. 
 
 Father and Sou and Spirit, deign 
 
 To hear and to accept our song. 
 Baptize us all afresh and reign 
 
 Supreme within us, making strong 
 Our faith, our trust, our love, our zeal, 
 
 Oh, give us all the bread of grace, 
 The living water, so shall sin 
 
 In us have less and less a place. 
 
 Long as we tarry here below 
 
 Still be our refuge and our strengtii, 
 So shall we fear no ill, no foe. 
 
 And more than dbnquerers, at length. 
 Shall in Thy glorious presence meet 
 
 With ears unstopped and tongue unloosed 
 And praises manifold repeat, 
 
 For powers here suppressed, refused. 
 
THE I/ENTURE. 45 
 
 ACROSTIC VERSES. 
 
 In memory of the Scotchman who is credited with the invention 
 of the double hand alphabet, used exclusively by the Deaf and 
 Dumb of England and Scotland, and to some extent in America. 
 
 Deeply on memory's tablet 
 
 Eiigraye and gild his name, 
 AVreathe round it the best laurels 
 
 True gratitude can frame. 
 
 Eulogize, praise, laud, honor. 
 
 In all its sea-girt lands, 
 Where'er Avith palsied lip or ear 
 
 A child despairing stands. 
 
 Lay it in history's pages 
 
 With reyerent, loying care, 
 And bid each generation 
 
 Sacredly keep it there. 
 
 Gather all deaf and mute o nes, 
 
 And, guided by his hands. 
 Repeat life's weighty lessons 
 
 Till each one understands. 
 
 And show them how kind nature 
 
 Compensates eyery ill 
 By giving counteracting power, 
 
 Or substitutive skill. 
 
46 TEE EENTERE, 
 
 * Raise them from clegradation, 
 Up^ lip the social plane, 
 Till all who see your labor, 
 Concede it is not vain.. 
 
 ?for cease, though slow the progress, 
 Or very small the cheer ; 
 
 Behold, admiring angels. 
 Long as you toil, are near. 
 
 Oh, blessed, highly blessed, 
 Are they among earth's sons, 
 
 Who bring emancipation 
 
 To God's long-prisoned ones. 
 
 TO A DEAF-MUTE FOREIGNER. 
 
 Welcome, thrice Avelcome to our favored land. 
 
 Illustrious stranger, through whose ears no sound, 
 
 However sweet or thrilling, loud or grand, 
 Enters to break the silence most profound. 
 
 In which thy mind has dwelt through all the years 
 It has been capable of hopes and fears. 
 
 Thrice welcome thou, Avhose lips could form no 
 speech. 
 Until the will, the brave, ambitious will, 
 Determined nature it would ever reach. 
 
THE UENTURE. 47 
 
 Low at the foot of Difficulty's Hill, 
 
 'J 
 
 Vowed, "nothing daunted by its height, I'll press 
 Up to the pinnacle of proud success." 
 
 Welcome, thrice welcome, as a brilliant proof 
 That earnest eifort is not thrown away, 
 
 And if we rightly prize life's curious woof 
 
 And weave its web with care from day to day, 
 
 Our rich reward will some day surely be 
 A fabric from defects wondrously free. 
 
 Welcome, as teacher of the sacred truth 
 That diligence in business often brings 
 
 Men, even in their days of early youth, 
 
 Into the presence of earth's mightiest kings. 
 
 Engraves in golden characters their name. 
 
 And crowns them with the laurel wreath of fame. 
 
 AYelcome, great heart, that never scorns to own 
 A brother, though his garb be poor or plain, 
 
 That, though it never hears an anguished moan. 
 Deems it a joy to lessen care and pain, 
 
 And prove, when men are bordering on despair. 
 That God doth kindly hear and answer prayer. 
 
 Welcome, and if it please thee, tarry long. 
 
 For we have need of spirits such as thine, 
 To aid us in our struggles against Avrong, 
 
48 THE UENTURE. 
 
 And teach us iievei" idly to repiiie. 
 E'en though we bear a very heavy cross, 
 
 And sound low depths of sorrow and of loss. 
 
 Welcome^ and may the God who guided thee 
 Across the pathless ocean to our shore, 
 
 Thy Friend, thy Guide, and loving Guardian be, 
 Giving thee back, redoubled o'er and o'er, 
 
 Thy bounty, and when life's full Srpan is run. 
 
 May angel hosts sing thee His pleased "Well 
 done." 
 
 TO A HEBREW DEAF-MUTE. 
 
 Waiting, brother, waiting, 
 
 For Messiah, King, 
 Who to Israel's children 
 
 Freedom, joy, will bring, 
 He has come, though lowly, 
 
 And in every zone 
 Holiest of the holy, 
 
 Waits to set his throne. 
 
 Hoping, brother, hoping 
 For the promised light 
 
 That will end forever 
 The long, dismal night, 
 
THE I/ENTURE. 49 
 
 Law and prophets fasten 
 Round the dense and drear, 
 
 With but expectation 
 
 Heart and mind to cheer. 
 
 Give thy hoping over, 
 
 It is useless now, 
 And in reverent homage 
 
 To IniQiauuel bow, 
 For the light is beaming 
 
 O'er all longing ones, 
 Brighter than the gleaming 
 
 Of a million suns. 
 
 Longing, brother, longing, 
 
 For a fountain sweet, 
 For pure, living waters 
 
 And a rest complete, 
 Lo! a fount is flowing, 
 
 Copious and free. 
 Rest and peace are oifered 
 
 Without price to thee. 
 
 Seeking, brother, seeking 
 
 For the royal wa}' 
 To the heavenly Canaan, 
 
 To the perfect day. 
 
50 THE UENTURE. 
 
 Seek, Oh, seek no k^nger, 
 For the way is found, 
 
 Narrow, straight, but wholly 
 Consecrated ground. 
 
 Hoping, waiting, longing. 
 
 Seeking, all, give o'er, 
 Lo! Messiah opens 
 
 Vvide the Gospel door. 
 Leave the types and shadows 
 
 For the substance real. 
 For the Christ is mighty 
 
 To redeem and heal. 
 
 Hasten, brother, hasten, 
 
 Time is flying fast, 
 Mercy's calls are echoing 
 
 In each beeeze and blast^ 
 Hasten now to Jesus, 
 
 Jesus crucified. 
 And thy soul's deep longing 
 
 Shall be satisfied. . 
 
THE UENTURE. 51 
 
 HYMNS 
 
 For the unveiling of a Memorial Tablet, ei*ected by 
 Deaf-Mutes to a former teacher. 
 
 FIRST. 
 
 The crowd may laud as heroes 
 
 Those who w^ith weapons gory, 
 From long-contested battle-fields 
 
 March, claimnig meeds of glory; 
 May shout for them " Hurrah ! hurrah !" 
 
 May bow wdth admiration, 
 And to official titles add 
 
 Most flattering commendation ; 
 May w^ail when they are summoned 
 
 To join the myriad dead. 
 And mark with costly marble 
 
 Their deep sepulchral bed. 
 
 But wdiile such may be worthy 
 
 All their adherents claim^ 
 'Tis not for them the wise of earth 
 
 Decree most lasting fame; 
 'Tis not to them the troubled look 
 
 AY hen wTongs demand redress; 
 Xot them, when Right has triumjohed 
 
 We Avith most unction bless; 
 'Tis not for them wdien they must die 
 
52 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 The grateful sorely grieve; 
 Nor for them admiring angels 
 Their finest chaplets weave. 
 
 But they Avho at the prompting's 
 
 Of conscience, bravely go 
 To the cheerless hamits of ignorance. 
 
 Of folly, sin and Avoe; 
 Go with the lamp of knowledge 
 
 For those who blindly grope, 
 With promises of mercy 
 
 For those who have no hope, 
 With the living Bread and Water 
 
 For the hungry and the faint. 
 With the balm of consolation 
 
 For all who have a plaint. 
 
 Such are earth's greatest heroes, 
 
 Her bravest, noblest men, 
 Worthy the adulation 
 
 Of every tongue and pen, 
 Worthy the painter's highest skill, 
 
 The sculptor's truest art ; 
 Worthy the loving memory 
 
 Of every grateful heart. 
 Whether their nuxle be pantomime, 
 
THE UENTURE. ^'-^ 
 
 Or strangely foreign speech, 
 Or native language, Heaven's smile 
 Attends each word they teach. 
 
 SECOND, 
 
 Do we not err to call them dead 
 
 Who after years of zealous toil 
 To lessen human woe and spread 
 
 Light, sound and knowledge, and to foil 
 Evil in its deep-plotted schemes. 
 
 Obey the All-Beholding One, 
 And calmly as the fading beams 
 
 Of sunlight, when the day is done, 
 Slip from their tenements of clay 
 
 And pass from mortal sight away. 
 
 Surely we err, for spirit, like 
 
 Its great originator, is 
 Immortal. Vile decay may strike 
 
 The flesh and proudly claim it his, 
 But spirit, ransomed spirit, knows 
 
 No death, once set at liberty, • 
 It seeks its source, expands and grows 
 
 In glorious power and symmetry, 
 Yet to our yearning questioning 
 
 Returns in loving ministring. 
 
54 THE I/ENTUREr 
 
 Return in dreary, troubled hours, 
 
 Gently as suubeams meet the de^Y, 
 To fill our hands with hope's sweet flowers, 
 
 And picture to our spirits' view 
 Reminders of the love divine 
 
 That follows us with tireless care 
 To smooth, to straighten and define, 
 
 To banish darkness and despair; 
 That robs of terror e'en the grave. 
 And will with full salvation save. 
 
 But though when leaving earth they pause 
 
 Kindly to say, ^' The path is light. 
 For weeping there will be no cause, 
 
 God rules, and His decrees are right," 
 Gratitude suffers us to grieve 
 
 Over the ]oss we feel immense. 
 And as a proof the sighs we heave 
 
 Spring from no shallow, base pretoise. 
 Bids us their sculptured name and face 
 
 Give in God's house an honored place. 
 
 And bids us when we pass within 
 Its sacred portals, call to mind 
 
 The truths by which they strove to win 
 Our souls from evil, and to bind 
 
 Us all to good. Oh, doubly blest 
 
THE UENTURE. , 55 
 
 Are they who point earth's wandering ones 
 To the trne source of peace and rest, 
 
 God owns them as his bravest sons, 
 And blest by Him, each truth they taught 
 
 Shall live in noble deed or thought. 
 
 HYMN 
 
 For the dedication of a chapel for Deaf Mutes. 
 
 Hungering for the bread of God, 
 
 Fresh from His benignant hand, 
 For the manna of His love. 
 
 Found in every age and land; 
 Thirsting for the water sweet 
 
 Flowing from the fount of life. 
 Potent to refresh and nerve 
 
 Souls for noble toil and strife. 
 
 Seeking for that better way 
 
 That leads on to Heaven's rest, 
 Looking for the light that grows 
 
 Brighter for Time's every test. 
 Knowing that whate'er our state 
 
 For us all one Saviour died, 
 For us all he rose again 
 
 Ever to be glorified. 
 
5(y THE EENTURE, 
 
 We have gathered here to-day, 
 
 A devout, though voiceless, band, 
 Humbly at God's feet to lay 
 
 The best gifts at our command ; 
 Gathered here to dedicate 
 
 One more altar, one more shrine, 
 Unto Him whom we adore 
 
 As all mighty, all divine. 
 
 Deign, Thou Sovereign, One in Three, 
 
 Deign our offering to accept; 
 Henceforth may it ever be 
 
 Sacred to Thy service kept. 
 May we here rich treasures find, 
 
 Here in grace and wisdom grow. 
 And in spirit, heart and mind 
 
 Onward to perfection go. 
 
 TO A DEAF-MUTE LADY. 
 
 We met but once, just for a little while, 
 And ever since that hour, deep in my heart 
 Your name has lain inscribed indeliably. 
 And in the picture gallery of my mind 
 Your image has retained a worthy place, 
 And I will gaze upon it in the days 
 That yet may add unto my span of life. 
 
THE VENTURE. 57 
 
 My knowledge and the ninn])er of my friends. 
 
 The modest grace, the cordial sympathy 
 
 Revealed both by your countenance and words, 
 
 Roused in my heart a tender, latent chord 
 
 That then vibrated, and is vibrating 
 
 Even yet, most pleasantly. 
 
 Our meetings and our partings may be termed 
 
 A matter of small consequence, but life, you know, 
 
 Is made of little things, and spirits grow 
 
 By sloAV degrees, yet ever quickly note 
 
 Affinity, wherever it exists. 
 
 In any one they casually may meet. 
 
 And so it was with me that long ago 
 
 I saw in you a spirit that aspired 
 
 Above, beyond herself, and so my heart 
 
 Thrilled with a sense of true affinity, 
 
 And owns to-day that it is richer for 
 
 Those moments spent with you. 
 
 "I PRAYED FOR YOU." 
 
 ''Last night I prayed for you," a mute child said. 
 
 With finger-letters, then she went her way. 
 And I, to whom she spoke, I bowed my head 
 
 And wept for joy that she for me should pray, 
 For I was doubting, and my heart was sore. 
 
58 THE UENTURE, 
 
 Life .seemed a struggle^ hardly Avorth its cost, 
 My stars of hope seemed set to rise no more, 
 And much that others prized to me was lost. 
 
 "Last night I prayed for you/' the simple Avords 
 Seemed like a message from the spirit shore, 
 Or like the sweetest songs of wild wood birds, 
 
 And thrilled me to my being's very core 
 Till life, that seemed ere Avhile so hard and cold 
 Grew warm and precious, and my heart grew 
 strong, 
 Meekly to drink all that my cup might hold, 
 
 And toil with patience, though my task wore long. 
 
 "Last night I prayed for you!" If those whose 
 tongues 
 Can speak no sinful words, for us will pray. 
 What need we fear our heart-strings may be wrung 
 
 By bitter grief or pain from day to day, 
 Yet strength and help shall never, never fail. 
 
 For God doth ever love the young and pure. 
 And they have power with him and shall prevail 
 So l(^ng as his own word remaineth sure. 
 
 Oh, mighty is the worth, the power of prayer 
 
 To heal the lieart when grief has made it bleed, 
 To ease the mind when bowed by heavy care, 
 
THE UENTURE. 59 
 
 Or bring us help in every time of need, 
 To banish doubt and make the spirit strong, 
 
 Aye, make it patient, trustful, calm and brave, 
 To tune the dirge to sweet, exultant song. 
 
 And strew with flowers the death -bed and the 
 grave. 
 
 Pray then, all ye who know there is a God 
 
 Ruling and reigning throughout earth and Heaven ; 
 Pray when you groan beneath the cliastening rod ; 
 
 Pray, too, when rest and joy to you are given ; 
 Pray for your friends, whatever be their state. 
 
 They need God^s grace and guidance every hour. 
 That they all good may love, all evil hate. 
 
 And meet defiantly the tempter's power. 
 
 THE MARCH OF PROGRESS. 
 
 The red man and the deer have fled. 
 
 The wolf's wild howl is heard no more, 
 The "fort'' has to a city spread, 
 
 The stream is spanned from shore to shore. 
 The steam-horse wends its rapid way 
 
 O'er hill and valley, mead and plain, 
 And for the wilderness to-day 
 
 We see vast fields, where j^iTcious grain 
 
60 THr. UENTURh\ 
 
 Yearly repays all seed-time toil 
 
 And harvest- hours of thoiiglitfiil care. 
 
 Churches^ too, lift their steeples high . ' 
 
 And throw their portals open wide. 
 While for the frightful battle-cry 
 
 Of savage warriors^ side by side 
 Aliens walk, singing aS they go 
 
 Of mutual interest J mutual hope, 
 Pledging support in weal or woe, 
 
 Avowing they will together cope 
 Till every danger shall have passed 
 
 And they have conquered every foe. 
 
 And school-bells ring their daily call 
 
 For vouth to Avalk in wisdom's wavs. 
 And i)rove throuo-h useful vears that all 
 
 Persistent mental culture pays; 
 That zeal with aspiration pure 
 
 Commands respect and will at last 
 Success attain, reward secure, 
 
 Exert au influence, small or vast. 
 Even though the waiting may be long, 
 
 A glorious reaping time is sure. 
 
 And science gathers up vast stores 
 
 Of curious thin2:s from mounts and mines, 
 
7 HE UENTURE. 61 
 
 From hills and glades and river shores 
 
 From shrubs and bushes, plants and vines, 
 Classifies them and spreads them out, 
 
 And bids the hurrying throng to pause 
 And note each strange phenomenon, 
 
 Each consequence of law and cause, 
 Note and acknowledge power divine 
 
 Rules over all the universe. 
 
 And art, uniquest, truest prc-of 
 
 Of talent, rears her temples high, 
 Trying alike by web and woof, 
 
 By form and hue to please the eye, 
 To please tlie fancy in its flights. 
 
 By restless reachings after grace, 
 Symmetry, beauty, everything 
 
 Which bears the least aesthetic trace, 
 Fills, crams her deftly-shapen halls 
 
 Till every inch of space is full. 
 
 And mind, when it would S}»eak to mind. 
 Defiant laughs at time and space, 
 
 And sends its words, cruel or kind 
 Straight on to their intended place, 
 
 Sends them with swiftest lightning speed 
 Through mid-air or the ocean's heart, 
 
 And every hour, by will decreed, 
 
62 THE UENTURE. ' 
 
 Thought answers thought, tho' miles apart, 
 As spirits telegraph afar 
 
 Their joy or grief, their hope or fear. 
 
 Truth, too, and Reason rear aloft 
 
 Their gracious beacons, and declare 
 That though assailed and trammeled oft, 
 
 Heaven has for them a special care. 
 Envy and hatred, spite and pride. 
 
 Falsehood and malice, all the throng 
 Of evils which make up the tide 
 
 We call injustice, error, wrong. 
 All, all must yield, must surely yield. 
 
 Leaving them in triumphant sway. 
 
 And Wisdom, true religion's twin 
 
 With schools alone not satisfied. 
 With the progressive train falls in, 
 
 Sends out her agents far and wide, 
 To gather up with careful hands 
 
 Thoughts that ennoble and refine, 
 Instruct and please, aye, from all lands 
 
 To gather gems from Truth's rich mine. 
 And placing what they bring in ranks. 
 
 In groups, in piles, invites the crowd. 
 
THE I/ENTURE. 63 
 
 Invites the restless, eager crowd 
 
 To the rare feasts of precious lore, 
 Calls them in tones now Ioav^ now loud. 
 
 To come, nor roam nor hunger more, 
 Howe'er their taste or fancy turn 
 
 To stars or stones, to plane or line, 
 To substances that freeze or burn, 
 
 To natures human or divine. 
 She spreads her stores with generous hand 
 
 Bidding all use till satisfied. 
 
 Invites, too, beings once supposed 
 
 Beyond the reach of hope or prayer, 
 The blind, whose eyes are ever closed, 
 
 The deaf and dumb, denied a share 
 In speech and sound, and others who 
 
 With imbeciles were wont to mope, 
 She calls to learn with pleasure true 
 
 That they no longer need to grope 
 In mental darkness, but can keep 
 
 Fair pace in the progressive march. 
 
 Clay-beds and sand-banks next we find 
 Transformed to many useful things 
 
 To suit the rich or the refined. 
 The heirs of peasants or of kings. 
 
64 ^ THE IIENTURE, 
 
 Iron-strong or alabaster-white, 
 
 Or delicate as morning dew^ 
 Of crystal clearness, noonday light. 
 
 Or showing every tint and hue 
 Of every kind and every mould 
 
 Which errant fancy can devise. 
 
 Ores, too, and metals, deftly wrought 
 
 Accomplish in a single hour 
 Work which past generations thought 
 
 Nothing could do but human power. 
 Propelled by steam's superior force 
 
 Shuttles and needles swiftly fly, 
 Planes move in keen, unw^avering course, 
 
 Saws, hammers, chisels all defy 
 All human strength or speed and prove 
 
 The worth of mind, the power of thought. 
 
 The very soil on which we live 
 
 Joins the immense, progressive train 
 At labor's call, and hastes to give 
 
 Each season, in rich stores of grain, 
 Of fruit or flowers, the tribute due 
 
 To talent, energy and skill, 
 The proof that blessings nuist accrue 
 
 When Ave by honest toil so will. 
 
THE I/ENTURE. 65 
 
 Wlien God approving smiles and bids 
 The rain to fall^ the sun to shine. 
 
 The very light by which we move 
 
 When Night her sable mantle throAvs 
 Over the world, unites to prove 
 
 The power of thought, and to disclose 
 The fact that very many things 
 
 Once counted powerless, useless, hold 
 Vast latent forces, which, evolved, 
 
 Cause revolutions manifold, 
 And place round the discoverer's name 
 
 Unfading laurel wreaths of fame. 
 
 The very graves o'er which we weep 
 
 For precious loved ones passed away, 
 Pace in this march of progress keep 
 
 And swell the wonderful array 
 Of beauteous and substantial things 
 
 Which are proof-patent every hour 
 That every age in passing brings 
 
 Our age, our nation, added power 
 From failures to achieve success. 
 
 And to the world grand records leave. 
 
 THE BLIND DEAF-MUTE. 
 
 Deaf, dumb and blind ! It seems so hard, so hard, 
 No soundj, no sound; silence on every side; 
 
66 ■ TEE EENTUEE, 
 
 Silence, as perfect, utter and profound 
 
 As reigned when chaos vaAvned^ deep^ dark and wide* 
 
 Deaf, dumb and blind \ It seems so hard^ so hard, 
 Dumb, though the mind be all ablaze with thought; 
 
 Dumb, though the spirit's tenderest depths and heights 
 Are into ecstacy or frenzy wrought. 
 
 Deaf, dumb and blind I It seems so strange^ so strange^ 
 No light, no light, forever in the dark, 
 
 Darkness most dense, wide as the world is wide^ 
 With no relieving glimmer^ ray or spark. 
 
 Deaf dumb and blind ! Alone^ wholly alone, 
 
 Shut up in the small prison of herself, 
 Resembling much a book firm closed and clasped 
 
 And tossed as useless upon Mystery's shelf. 
 
 And yet, perchance, she dwells not quite alone,. 
 
 Angels may be her visitants and friends, 
 Or at the dear Lord's pitying commands 
 
 Often the (^omforter to her descends* 
 
 And it may be her spirit senses all 
 
 Keener than ours, pierce the celestial spheres. 
 
 And while we pitying say, "Deaf, dumb and blind l'^ 
 Rare sights delight her eyes, rare sounds her ears. 
 
THE I/ENTURE. 67 
 
 A STRAXGE HALF-CEXTUHY. 
 
 Suggested b}^ the remark of Laura D. Bridgmaii, in a letter 
 writteu September 15, 1879, while she was visiting her mother at the 
 old homestead in Hanover, N. H. ; 
 
 ^' Mj birthdaj' is on the 21st of December — flftv Aears old V^ 
 
 Almost fifty years of dcu'Ioic^ii, 
 
 Darkness deep as eyer fell 
 O'er the world at day's declining, 
 
 With its \yierd and waking spell, 
 Darkness so intense no glimmer 
 
 Were all Xatnre's lights combined 
 With all liglits of man's inyenting 
 
 E'er could reach the imprisoned mind. 
 Yet she wails no question ^Syhy?" 
 Satsified that by and bye 
 Time with emphasis will tell : 
 "Though so trying, it was well." 
 
 Almost fifty years of silenee, 
 
 Silence utter and profound. 
 As if Nature had grown powerless 
 
 To produce a single sound. 
 As if all the air Ayas muffled 
 
 Or had lost resounding force, 
 Lost all power to carry echoes 
 
 Or reyeal their primal source. 
 
68 THE UENTURE. 
 
 Yet she wails no question, " why ?'' 
 Satisfied that by and bye 
 Time with emphasis will tell : 
 " Though so lonely, it was well/^ 
 
 Almost fifty years unabte 
 
 Rightly to articulate 
 Exclamations, questions, answers. 
 
 Which would show the spirit's state. 
 Would reveal its joy or sorrow. 
 
 Show its cause for hope and fear, 
 Tell why mirth gives place to sadness. 
 Or why falls the pearly tear. 
 
 Yet she wails no question, "why?" 
 Satisfied that by and bye 
 Time with emphasis will tell : 
 " Though so grevious, it was well." 
 
 Almost fifty years of toiling. 
 
 Toiling patiently to gain 
 Word by word, the common know^ledge 
 
 Others rapidly attain ; 
 Word by word, the truth that reason 
 
 Holds and will forever bold 
 Far more precious than earth's treasures 
 
 Multiplied to countless fold. 
 
 Yet she wails no question, "why?" 
 
THE UENTURE. 6 9 
 
 Satisfied that by and bye 
 Time with emphasis will tell : 
 "Though so tedious, it was well." 
 
 Almost fifty years of groping, 
 
 Groping cautioasly about. 
 Pausing oftentimes in terror, 
 
 Oftener still in dread or doubt, 
 Wondering if the sun Ls shining. 
 
 Or if clouds the sky obscure, 
 If the evening lamp is lighted, 
 Or the food and drink are pure. 
 Yet she wails no question, ^Svhy?" 
 Satisfied that by and bye 
 Time with emphasis will tell : 
 "Though so wearying, it was well." 
 
 Almost fifty years of striving 
 
 To win victory from defeat. 
 Make a prosy fate a poem 
 
 Millions proudly shall repeat. 
 Make for scholars and for skeptics 
 
 Theories and questions strange, 
 Arguments and views perplexing 
 
 When from God they dare to range. 
 Yet she wails no question, " why ?" 
 Satisfied that by and bye 
 
THE UENTURE. 
 
 Time with emphasis will tell : 
 "Though so mysterious, it was well." 
 
 Almost fifty years attesting 
 
 We are not the work of chance, 
 But the heirs of One who ever 
 
 Bids us rise, achieve, advance. 
 Bids us show by wise improval 
 Of our talents, small or great. 
 We may not one jot nor tittle 
 Of our Maker's praise abate. 
 
 Yet she wails no question, " why ?" 
 Satisfied that by and bye 
 Time with emphasis will tell : 
 Though so onerous, it w^as well." 
 
 an 
 
 Almost fifty years declaring 
 
 Mind is mighty and will rise, 
 From the wreck of sense and venture 
 
 Boldly after crown and prize. 
 Venture, strive, aspire and struggle 
 
 Conquer, persevere and stand 
 On the lofty heights of triumph. 
 
 Known and praised in many a land. 
 Yet she wails no question, 'Svhy?" 
 Satisfied that bv and bve 
 
THE I/ENTURE, 71 
 
 Time with emphasis will tell : 
 *^God decreed all, it was well." 
 
 Almost fifty years of hoping 
 
 For the morning that shall end 
 The protracted night of trials 
 
 Which so clearly, strangely, blend 
 End the slow and cautious groping 
 
 End the isolation sore, 
 End the wondering and the longing 
 End them all forevermore. 
 
 Yet she wails no question, ^Avhy?' 
 Satisfied that by and bye 
 Time with emphasis will tell: 
 ^^ All that God decrees is well.'" 
 
 A CHALLEXGE. 
 
 Ho! Ye that pass by on the smooth ways of Time, 
 
 Complacently saying, " 'Tis nothing to me — 
 Nothing at least having semblance of crime, 
 
 If while I am journeying, favored and free, 
 -Prisoners most abject moan, wearily moan 
 
 And long for liberty, liberty sweet. 
 Long till their feelings find vent in a gloom 
 
 So deep that its anguish were hard to repeat." 
 
72 THE I/ENTURE, ' 
 
 Speak not so proudly, the sonls that you meet 
 
 Burdened by sorrow or trouble or care, 
 Defiled by the dust or the mire of the street, 
 
 Or driven by want to the brink of despair, 
 Are brothers and sisters, whose miserable state 
 
 Always is something, something to you, 
 And sometime, alas ! should that sometime be late. 
 
 You Avill find you to each have a duty to do. 
 
 The deaf and the dum b, standing sadly apart, 
 
 Never once cheered by an audible sound, 
 Whatever the longing of mind or of heart. 
 
 Doomed to live on in their silence profound; 
 The blind groping cautiously, or in affright 
 
 Shunning one danger, another to meet. 
 Or moodily waiting the end of their night. 
 
 So tedious, so long, so intensely complete. 
 
 The lunatic's raving is mental unrest, 
 
 More torturing far than physical pain; 
 The gibbering idiot, who at the best 
 
 Wakes and eat^' but to sink to its slumbers again; 
 The fallen, repentant, who timidly shrink 
 
 From the withering scorn and self-satisfied pride 
 Of the throng, and the wrecked, who, too hopeful to 
 sink, 
 
 Too despairing to sail, drift along Avith the tide. 
 
THE UENTURE. 73 
 
 The widow, who wearily toils to protect 
 
 Her innocent children from hunger and cold ; 
 The sick and the maimed, often doomed to neglect, 
 
 The lone, the deserted, the feeble, the old, 
 The strangers, the exiled from country and home. 
 
 Who uncared for, passed by and neglected alway, 
 Are forced by misfortune to restlessly roam 
 
 Till nature's last debt they are summoned to pay. 
 
 All these have a claim on your thoughts and your 
 care, 
 
 All these challenge daily your pity and aid. 
 And as you deny or accord them a share, 
 
 Are as witnesses for or against you arrayed. 
 Then say not again, " It is nothing to me," 
 
 Lest the selfish assertion be echoed in Heaven, 
 And Justice sends back the indignant decree : 
 
 "Your sin is too great to be. quickly forgiven." 
 
TEMPERANCE POEMS 
 
THE I/ENTURE, 75 
 
 THE WHISKY-JUG'S REVELATION. - 
 
 Here is plenty of poverty, shame and disgrace, 
 An imbecile mind and a red, bloated face, 
 
 A cold, stony heart and a trembling hand, 
 A strong man so feeble he scarcely can stand. 
 
 Friend, look at these pictures awhile e're you pass, 
 They cost little money — -just ten cents a glass. 
 
 Here are dirt and disorder, starvation and cold, 
 And misery greater than words ever told ; 
 
 Here are anger and hatred, contention and strife, 
 A hell for a home and existence for life. 
 
 Friends, think of these evils awhile e're you pass. 
 And say if you'll buy them at ten cents a glass. 
 
 Here are ruin, damnation, remorse and despair. 
 Aye, wretchedness greater than words can declare, 
 
 Long ages of pain for short 'moments of mirth, 
 Souls bitterly cursing the hour of their birth. 
 
 O! friend, dare you suffer such warnings to pass, 
 And. swallow destruction at ten cents a glass? 
 
 "THE PLEASANT GLASS." 
 
 Composed after reading the remark of a deaf-mute : 
 "We went into a saloon to take a pleasant glass." 
 
 O, look not on the '^pleasant glass," 
 Though it most brightly gleams, 
 
jy 
 
 76 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 For Avith a curse, a Avoe untold, 
 Its every golbnle teems. 
 
 O, touch it not, the ^^ pleasant glass, 
 Though good it be to view. 
 
 For it with sharp and cruel thorns 
 Your path of life can strew\ 
 
 O, drink it not, the " pleasant glass,' 
 Though warm and sweet it taste, 
 
 For it has power to work more ill 
 Than pencil ever traced. 
 
 O, dash it down, the "pleasant glass. 
 
 As poison, ruin, death. 
 Turn qui(;kly from it as you would 
 
 Turn from the spoiler's breath. 
 
 Yes, dash it down, until it lies 
 In fragments at your feet. 
 
 For only thus will you escape 
 From ruin be complete. 
 
 And call it not the " pleasant glass,'' 
 For ruined millions know 
 
 That poisoned, cursed, are fitter words 
 Its subtle power to show. 
 
 ?? 
 
THE UENTURE. 77 
 
 A PLEA. 
 
 After readiug of a drunkard who Avas highly connected and held 
 honorable position in the army, the account ending with the remark, 
 " He is a ruined man." 
 
 Call him not ruined while life's tide is flowing 
 
 Warm through his veins, 
 And reason, by sure signs, is daily shovving 
 
 It still retains 
 Its throne within the mind once strong and noble, 
 
 Once brave and true, 
 To will and plan, direct, command and venture, 
 
 Decide and do. 
 
 Call him not wholly ruined, noble brothers, 
 
 You, who are strong, 
 Temptations to resist, and bravely battle 
 
 With vice and wrong, 
 Hasten tC' him and kindly tell him, others 
 
 Who fall, arise. 
 Regain all they had lost and add unto it 
 
 Much which men prize. 
 
 Call him not ruined, though so lowly fallen, 
 
 He member that 
 While there is life, hope firmly may be cherished 
 
 Still to combat, 
 Besist and re- resist the tempter's sieges, 
 
78 THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 Man has ^ro^vn strongs 
 And joins, from degradation resnrected, 
 Earth's noble throng. 
 
 Call him not ruined, tell him of his darlings, 
 
 His parents dear, 
 His brothers, sisters, friends and soldier comrades, 
 
 Then when a tear 
 Drops from his eye, speak tenderly, speak softly, 
 
 Of wife and child. 
 Who love him still, and wait to kiss him welcome^ 
 
 Though so defiled. 
 
 Call him not ruined, tho' so nearly perished, 
 
 Remember that 
 While life remains hope rightly may be cherished, 
 
 And we combat 
 With men or demons who with selfish fury 
 
 Struggle and strive 
 Away from God and all things pure and holy, 
 
 To drag or drive. 
 
 HELP THE DRUNKARD TO REFORM. 
 
 Scorn not the drunkard if he falls, 
 But reach him out a helping hand, 
 Set him upon his feet again, 
 
THE UENTURE. 79 
 
 And bid him try again to stand. 
 
 Tell him that as the little child 
 First learns to walk, so he must learn 
 
 Each time he falls to rise again, 
 And from temptation bravely turn. 
 
 Tell him that effort is the price 
 Of all success, and he must try 
 
 Over. and over, till he grows 
 Able to pass temptation by. 
 
 Able to say the firm word, " No,'' 
 And stick to it, whoever sneers. 
 
 Able to be a brave, true maif, 
 In spite of ridicule or jeers. 
 
 Tell him that millions daily pray 
 For him and every tempted one, 
 
 That Heaven waits to give him grace 
 Temptation to resist and shun, 
 
 Aye, tell him this, and tell him more, 
 But never pass him by with scorn, 
 
 Lest he, despairing, fall again, 
 Cursina: the hour that he was born. 
 
 Scorn not the drunkard, tho' he fall, 
 He is thy brother, just the same, 
 And holds upon thy love and aid 
 
80 THE UENTURE, 
 
 A double, yes, a treble claim. 
 
 While life continues, there is hope 
 That reason will assert its sway, 
 
 Will with temptatioD bravely cope, 
 And gloriously your toil repay. 
 
 FOE GOD AND HUMANITY. 
 
 "To arms!" Behold, a cruel foe 
 Is marching boldly through our land, 
 
 Laying our noble brothers low 
 And scattering woe on every hand. 
 
 " To arms ! to arms !" Lo, widows pale 
 With grief and want, repeat the cry ; 
 While hosts of children sadly wail : 
 " Haste, haste, to arms ! We starve, we die !'' 
 
 " To arms ! to arms !" By all the throng 
 That dwells in Heaven, forever blest. 
 The solemn charge is sent a.oiig: 
 "To arms! nor pause in selfish rest." 
 
 " To arms ! to arms !" From countless souls 
 Writhing in anguish and despair 
 
 The charge in constant echo rolls 
 Like thunder peals throuoh all the air. 
 
THE UENTURE. 81 
 
 ^^To arms!" the arms of earnest work 
 For prohibition, haste away, 
 
 For while you argue, pause and shirk, 
 Millions are ruined — lost for aye. 
 
 ^^To arms! to arms!" by God's own voice 
 The charge in firm command is given. 
 
 Haste, help the whole world to rej(»ice. 
 Haste, help to swell the hosts of Heaven. 
 
LOCAL POEMS 
 
THE UENTURE. 83 
 
 THE BELL IS TOLLING/' 
 
 Toll the bell, slow and clear, 
 
 Toll it so that all may hear, 
 Hear and know another soul 
 
 Has at last attained a goal, 
 Has life's mighty problem solved, 
 
 All its partnerships dissolved, 
 And is resting calmly now. 
 
 While in tears its loved ones bow. 
 Toll the bell. 
 
 Toll the bell, four, five and ten, 
 
 See the miniature twin- men, 
 Sleeping, playing, side by side, 
 • Dreaming earth is wondrous wide ; 
 Counting o'er their books and toys, 
 
 Making mother cares and joys, 
 Thinking life is sweet and gay, 
 
 Age and death are far away. 
 Toll the bell. 
 
 Twenty, thirty, next we hear, 
 
 Hands are strong and heads are clear, 
 Brothers still in peace abide, 
 
 Dwelling, toiling, side by side, 
 Giving honest weight to all, 
 
84 THE UENTURE, 
 
 Counting true for large and small. 
 Planning, venturing, with a will, 
 Proving each the other's skill. 
 Toll the bell. 
 
 Forty, fifty, how the years 
 
 Multiply their hopes and fears, 
 Bring us wealth and holy joy, 
 
 Bring us grief and sore annoy, 
 Bring us age and silvered hair, 
 
 Stamp our brows w^ith lines of care, 
 Come and vanish, day by day. 
 
 Bearing us with them away, 
 Toll the bell. 
 
 Fifty-six ! one more were se\;en. 
 
 Think we now of death and Heaven, 
 For the Captain's Avork is done. 
 
 All his span of life is run. 
 Vain is the physician's art. 
 
 Death has touched his brain and heart. 
 From his lips has forced the cry: 
 " All is over, / must die /" 
 Toll the bell. 
 
 Xow a brother walks alone, 
 
 Kow a w^idow makes sad moan, 
 
THE UENTURE, ^^ 
 
 Now we hear a mother sigh : 
 "Ever do the dearest die;'' 
 Now for children's merry glee, 
 
 Sobs we hear and tears we see, 
 Yet the promise sw^eet is given : 
 
 '• There is love and rest in Heaven/' 
 Richer boon we can not crave, 
 
 Toll the bell and mark the grave. 
 
 BABY BERTHA. 
 
 Once and only once I sa^v her, 
 And then I thonght her mnch 
 
 Like a rare bud destined to blast 
 At the first chilling touch. 
 
 Once and only once I held her, 
 And then I seemed to hold 
 
 An angel waiting for its wings, 
 Its crown and harp of gold. 
 
 And so it proved, the tender bud 
 Grew tenderer every day. 
 
 Till white and cold as falling snow, 
 Void of all power it lay. 
 
86. THE UENTURE. 
 
 But the pure soul that gave it life, 
 With wings full grown and strong, 
 
 Passed upward from all mortal sight 
 To swell the angel throng. 
 
 To share with them the genial home 
 Where pain and grief and tears 
 
 Can never hurt or fright as here, 
 Through all the countless years. 
 
 Ye who that bud, that angel, prized, 
 Who hoped that it might grow 
 
 To full perfection in your home. 
 Your garden here below. 
 
 Weep, if you will, to ease your hearts. 
 But while you weep, rejoice 
 
 That God for your fair darling's made 
 A wiser, better choice. 
 
 PAREINTAL LAMENT OX THE DEATH OF 
 TWIN BOYS. 
 
 We looked for one, but two were sent 
 
 To tax our thought and care. 
 To claim within our love and home 
 
 An equal place and share. 
 
THE UENTURE. 87 
 
 And though surprised, we did not turn 
 
 Either in scorn away, 
 But welcomed both and watched with joy 
 
 Their growth from day to day. 
 
 We gave them each a pretty name, 
 
 And talked of many a plan 
 That would their interests advancie 
 
 As child and youth and man. 
 And we were sure, were very sure, 
 
 That in the world's vast round 
 Two dearer little twins than ours 
 
 Were nowhere to be found. 
 
 Thus the bright, happy weeks went by, 
 
 Till half a year was told. 
 When suddenly our little boys 
 
 Grew ill and pale and cold, 
 And from our doting sight were borne 
 
 In quiet, solemn state. 
 Leaving us with our blighted hopes, 
 Our desolation great. 
 
 To go all day with empty arms 
 
 Seems very strange indeed, 
 And though we try to be resigned. 
 
 Our hearts will ache and bleed. 
 
88 THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 And when night's heavy shadows fall 
 
 And we retire to rest, 
 AYe miss the baby heads we used 
 
 To pillow on our breast. 
 
 OUR FRIEND. 
 
 ^^To know her was to love her/' she was fair 
 As the fair flowers she loved so well to tend, 
 And from her life there floated a perfume 
 Sweet as the odor of the choicest rose, 
 Or lilies of the valley that e'er shed 
 Their choice perfume upon the ambient air. 
 
 To know her was to know that she was true, 
 As ever is the needle to the pole. 
 Or north star to the night, or song of bird 
 To the returning Spring, or brooding dove 
 Is to its mate, yea, in a high degree 
 True as '^Our Father" bids us to be true. 
 
 To know her was to wish to emulate ; 
 Her life was beautiful by deeds of love ; 
 Kind words where'er her pathway chanced to lay, 
 Were echoed forth like sweet, harmonious notes. 
 And waked glad melodies in many hearts 
 Tliat had grown sick with discord, pain and strife. 
 
THE UENTURE. 89 
 
 To kllo^v her was to grieve that one so good 
 Should leave the world so soon, fc-r it has need 
 Of such pure souls to make it something like 
 The Eden that it was e'er sin indulged 
 Had Avrought tlie transformation we behold 
 Around us, and would alter if we could. 
 
 IN REMEMBEAXCE. 
 
 Call her a flovver, for she was fair; 
 
 Call her a star, for she Avas bright; 
 Call her a jewel, rich and rare; 
 
 Call her an angel and a light. 
 
 And we are sure vou will not wrono;; 
 
 Those flowers which in their forms and hue 
 Outrival all the floral throng. 
 
 And lavishly their perfume strew. 
 
 Xor will you wrong those brilliant things 
 Which dot the sky whenever night 
 
 Kindly outspreads her sable wings 
 To give us rest from toil and light. 
 
 Nor will you wrong one precious gem 
 Which brightly gleams or softly glows, 
 
00 THE UENTURE.. 
 
 Ill casket or in diadem^ 
 
 As light upon it ebbs or flows, 
 
 Nor will you Avrong those seraphs bright 
 Who highest in the heavenly throngs^ 
 
 Guide them to scenes of new deli2:ht 
 And lead them in their grandest songs. 
 
 We loved our flower, admired our star, 
 And duly prized our jewel rare, 
 
 We thought through many a trying hour 
 Our angel wondrous wise and fair. 
 
 And hoped, how fondly none can know 
 But those whom hope no longer cheers, 
 
 Our floAver would bloom, our star would glow. 
 Our jewel shine for years and years. 
 
 But in a dark, a dismal hour, 
 
 Thj angel. Death, with jealous eye, 
 
 Looked on our flow^er, our beauteous flower. 
 And sternly bade her droop and die. 
 
 Looked on our star, our jewel bright, 
 And took her radiance all away. 
 
 And left her lying still and white. 
 Cold as a stone, or lump of clay. 
 
THE UENTURE, 91 
 
 Looked on our Light, our aiigel one, 
 And pointing her to happier spheres, 
 
 Told her she was forever done 
 
 AVith toil and sorrow, pain and tears. 
 
 Told her to hasten, nor to Avait 
 
 Our farewell kiss, our fond good-bye, 
 
 Por sometime it would be our fate 
 Like her to droop and fade and die. 
 
 Oh, sad, Oh, solemn as the night 
 
 When first we knew that she was dead ! 
 
 We hold that Sabbath day so bright 
 When first we made her earthly bed. 
 
 Yet, tell us not. Oh, tell us not 
 Within that cold and silent tomb, 
 
 Which yet we hold a sacred spot, 
 Despite its lonely, solemn gloom, 
 
 All, all that made our flower so sweet, 
 
 Our star, our jewel, so diyine. 
 Our light our angel, so complete. 
 
 Moulders, no more to bloom or shine. 
 
 For hope and faith, that blessed twain. 
 Commissioned sorrowing hearts to cheer. 
 
92 THE UENTURE. 
 
 Turn from the grave as in disdain, 
 And say, "Rejoice, all is not here. 
 
 " All is not here, the immortal soul 
 
 Which made your darling's grace and worth 
 Lives, and shall live while ages roll 
 
 And you are done with time and earth." 
 
 THE EARLY DEAD. 
 
 Joy Cometh and we fold it 
 Close to our throbbing heart, 
 
 And pray that we may never 
 With it be forced to part. 
 
 Or form we deem angelic , 
 Knocks softly at the door. 
 
 We open, bid it enter, • 
 And tarry evermore. 
 
 Hope strengthens love's desires. 
 And to our angel guest 
 
 We sing our sweetest measures 
 Of lullaby and rest. 
 
 Nor cease our loving labors. 
 Though it, earth-weary, try 
 
THE I/ENTURE. 93 
 
 With restless fever-fliitterings, 
 From us away to fly. 
 
 Kor scarce believe our seuses 
 
 Wheu to our eaoer cries 
 For it, nothiug but echo 
 
 Or vacancy replies. 
 
 Yet, while we miss the body, 
 
 So early doomed to die,. 
 "VYe know the soul is hapjjy 
 
 In spheres beyond the sky. 
 
 SUGGESTIONS. 
 
 If we could always keep the forms we prize, 
 Earth, now so desolated, soon Avould be 
 
 Heaven's counterpart, and we, with tearless eyes 
 Would speak of Heaven and of Eternity. 
 
 No thoughts of sweet reunion by and bye, ' 
 Would rouse within us longings to be pure, 
 
 Nor nerve us with courageous zeal to try 
 Time's tests and trials l^ravely to endure. 
 
 And where we now have cherished images 
 Of lovely children and well-guarded graves, 
 
94 THE UENTURE, 
 
 We would have grown folks, always growing old. 
 And, like ourselves, to toil and trouble slaves. 
 
 So it is well that Death doth jealously 
 
 Look on our darlings, and bid some depart 
 
 To people Heaven; constrain us to be wise. 
 Fear God and serve Him with a perfect heart. 
 
 PAREXTS' TREASURES. 
 
 A picture fair and true 
 Of a child- face we thought more sweet and dear 
 
 Than any other that we ever knew 
 Within the whole world's compass, far or near. 
 
 A lock of silken hair, 
 Some toys and little garments laid away. 
 
 And guarded with a mother's tender care, 
 As treasures much too precious for decay. 
 
 A grave ^rherein is laid 
 A childish form that we were wont to fold 
 
 Close to our hearts, thinking we would not trade 
 Nor barter it for tons of <J:litterIno: "-old. 
 
 Just there where we had hoped 
 For long possession and devoted care. 
 
THE UENTURE. C5 
 
 For noble growth, for honor, joy and pride, 
 And a brave voice to echo praise and prayer. 
 
 Just there, yet something more. 
 Sweet thoughts that cheer and comfort all o\ir 
 grief. 
 
 Our child awaits us on the spirit shore, 
 The hours fly fast, and life, at most, is brief. 
 
 THE DEAD MOTHER. 
 
 Close the dear eyes, ' 
 So brilliantly bright, 
 
 With love's pure, thrilling. 
 Heaven-fed light. 
 
 Smooth the soft hair 
 As she used to each day, 
 
 Reservino;: a tress 
 With your treasures to lay. 
 
 Fold the white hands, 
 Grown so thin and so weak, 
 
 With daily endeavors 
 Our profit to seek. 
 
96 THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 Kiss the cold lips, 
 Though they answer no more^ 
 
 Breathe a glad prayer 
 That their quivering is o'er. 
 
 Think of her virtues, 
 Her amiable ways, 
 
 Emulate till 
 You deserve equal praise. 
 
 Cherish her memory 
 Wherever you stray, 
 
 And speak of her gratefully^ 
 Fondly, alway. 
 
 TO MOTHERS. 
 
 Oh, mothers ! when your little ones 
 
 AVith all their infant charms. 
 Are taken by the Angel, Death, 
 
 From out your loving arms. 
 If in my eyes you see no tears, 
 
 Nor find a single trace 
 Of grief because they went away,. 
 
 Imaged upon my face. 
 
THE I/ENTURE, 97 
 
 Accuse nie not of heartlessoess,. 
 
 Nor call me proud and cold, 
 Careless when others' hearts are bowed 
 
 With bitterness untold, 
 For while I know — and know full well 
 
 Your hearts are sad and sore. 
 With longings for the little forms 
 
 Who claim your care no more, 
 
 9 
 
 I know as well, this world is full 
 
 Of sorrow, pain and woe, 
 And that the tempter spreads his snares 
 
 Wherever we may go. 
 Therefore I will not, dare not grieve 
 
 But rather, calmly say : 
 ^'God gave. His Avill be done since he 
 
 Thought best to take away." 
 
 O, mothers ! when your hearts are sore 
 
 Because you had to part 
 With darlings you were Avont to fold 
 
 Close, close against your heart. 
 Weep not in idle, selfish grief. 
 
 Let this your comfort be. 
 The less of earth, the more of Heaven 
 
 And i m m ortality. 
 
98 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 O^ THE DEATH OF A LITTLE CHILD. 
 
 Ended is paints keen anguish, 
 Ended Life's tears and grief, 
 
 Ended its mortal struggle, ^ 
 
 After a trial brief. 
 
 Begun is the life immortal, 
 
 Begun is the angel song, 
 Begun the joy everlasting 
 
 Which blesses the heavenly throng. 
 
 A LESSOX FKOM THE FLOWERS. 
 
 Just as rare buds are opening 
 
 Fully into the light, 
 We very often see them 
 
 Smitten bv sudden blis^ht. 
 
 Each petal fades and withers, 
 Till of the promised flower 
 
 Nothing but dust remain eth 
 To prove the spoiler's power. 
 
 So often as w^e journey 
 
 Along life's winding way. 
 
THE VENTURE. ^^^ 
 
 AVe see rare soul-buds drooping 
 In premature decay. 
 
 See lovely features stricken 
 
 By Death's relentless hand, 
 See vacancy where dear ones 
 
 AVere wont to sit or stand. 
 
 In agony we question 
 
 Why thus the fairest die, 
 Why thus the joys and pleasures 
 
 Most cherished, soonest fly. 
 
 Each flower that fully blossoms, 
 
 Each bud that blighted, dies. 
 To all our anxious questions 
 
 In chorus clear replies : 
 
 ^^ Vainly ye seek endurance 
 
 Upon this sin-stained sphere, 
 Like peace and full perfection 
 It is not here, not here. 
 
 "Instead, things transitory, 
 Probation, trial, flight, 
 Toil, tears and pain and trouble, 
 And daily-coming night. 
 
100,. THE UENTURE. 
 
 "Or blight or rust or mildew 
 Wherever you can stray, 
 Repeat in solemn warning, 
 ' Passing away, away.' 
 
 "Like leaves you bud and flourish, 
 Like leaves you fade and fall, 
 And time's accumulations 
 Are heaped above you all." 
 
 Evening and noon and morning, 
 Each hour, each moment brief^ 
 
 In a perpetual current 
 
 That mocks all human grief. 
 
 The flowing and the ebbing 
 Of human life goes on, 
 
 Rare soul -buds briefly flourish. 
 Droop, fade, and then are gone. 
 
 Learn then, each precious lesson 
 The flowers by voiceless speech 
 
 Divinely are commissioned 
 Throughout all time to teach. 
 
 Obey the voice of reason, 
 Be true, be always strong, 
 
THE UENTURE. loi 
 
 To struggle with teiuptat'on, 
 To shun and censure wrong. 
 
 Obey the call of Heaven, 
 
 Improve each precious power. 
 
 With every sixty minutes 
 Construct a golden hour. 
 
 Pause not in idle dreaming, 
 Shrink not in coward fear, 
 
 Press on, the blest hereafter 
 Repays right action here. 
 
 THE OLD GPvAYE-DIGGER. 
 
 Dig his grave well, men, dig his grave well, 
 
 Many a grave did he dig in his clay. 
 Many a time at the hush of the knell, 
 
 He shouldered his tools and trudged briskly away. 
 Away to the city where silently dwell 
 
 The voung and the ao-ecl, the hio:h and the low, 
 The happy of heart, and the sad^ who could tell 
 
 Most pitiful stories of trial and woe. 
 
 Fill his grave well, men, fill his grave well. 
 Many a grave did ho fill in his day, 
 
102 THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 Many a time when tlie bitter tears fell 
 
 From eyes of fond monrners, he shoveled aAvay, 
 
 Shoveled and patted and pressed down the soil^ 
 The soft, yielding soil, that hid wholly from sight 
 
 Some dear one, some darling, for whom care and toil 
 Was pleasure, sweet pleasure, was even delight. 
 
 Smooth his grave well, men, smooth his grave well, 
 
 Many a grave did he smooth in his day, 
 Many a time, as survivors can tell, 
 
 He shaped graves most deftly, and bid sods to lay 
 Over the form which insatiate Death 
 
 Had touched with its icy, mysterious hand. 
 Had robbed by one stroke, of volition and breath, 
 
 And laid with the silent, the slain of the land. 
 
SONGS AND HYMNS. 
 
104 ■ JHE FENTURE. 
 
 MUSIC ALL AROUXD US. 
 
 There is music in the sunbeams^ 
 
 As in rival speed they stray, 
 Waking, warming into being 
 
 Things of beanty every day, 
 Guiding and enriching millions, 
 
 Helping both the false and triiC;, 
 And exulting at the measure 
 
 Of the good they daily do. 
 
 There is music in the breezes 
 
 AVhich are talking to the trees, 
 Of their travels over mountains, 
 
 Verdant vales and rocky leas ; 
 While they fan our fevered temples^ - 
 
 List, they sing a merry song, 
 And itS' burden is, '' O, mortals. 
 
 Time, like us, moves fast along.'' 
 
 There is music in the lightning, 
 When it makes the thunders roar; 
 
 There is music in the rain-drops. 
 
 When the clouds their treasures pour. 
 
 Every drop is but the echo 
 Of some sweet, celestial sound, 
 
THE UENTURE. 105 
 
 Ood has mercifully bidden 
 To re-echo o'er the ground. 
 
 There i.s music in our spirits, 
 
 Songs of joy or cries of woe, 
 Echoed forth in word or actions, 
 
 As the moments from us go. 
 Aye, within us and around us, 
 
 At all times and everywhere, 
 There is music, ceaseless thrilling, 
 ■ Ringing out upon the air. 
 
 A CENTENNIAL HYMX. 
 
 God of ages, Head of nations, 
 
 Hum})ly bowing at thy fi^et, 
 We with grateful adoration 
 
 Will thy holy name repeat, 
 Then in righteous triumph rising. 
 
 We will tell the wondering world 
 How Thine arm has kept our banner 
 
 For a hundred years unfurled. 
 
 Savage tribes have fled before us, 
 Fled in fear and wild dismay, 
 To the wilderness or desert, 
 
106 THE' UE'NTURE. 
 
 Followed close by beasts of prey. 
 Prairies have become vast cities, 
 
 Forests, fruitful fields and bowers, 
 Lofty mountaius and vast deserts 
 
 Highways strewn with wondrous flowers. 
 
 Proudly scorning all oppression, 
 
 Pitying all who are oppressed, 
 Holding freedom a possession 
 
 Without which no soul is blessed ; 
 Making liberty our goddess. 
 
 Linking close her name with Thine, 
 We at duty^s call have freely 
 
 Measured out life's crimson wine. 
 
 With progression for our motto. 
 
 Onward with a steady pace, 
 Tho' great mountains towered before us, 
 
 Or, on ocean's trackless space 
 We have pressed, till foes admiring 
 
 Offered the fraternal hand. 
 Pledging honor and allegiance 
 
 To our laws and to our land. 
 
 Where ere while was but a handful, 
 Asking mercy, offering praise. 
 
THE UENTURE, 107 
 
 Millions now are proudly gathered, 
 
 Talking of the bygone days, 
 Joining with triumphant voices, 
 
 And with eyes suffused with tears, 
 Telling how Thy hand has led us 
 
 Forward for a hundred years. 
 
 Grandly speeds along the chorus. 
 
 Wafted by the summer breeze. 
 Echoed by the hills and valleys. 
 
 Rocks and waters, fields and trees. 
 Bugles' notes and drums' loud clatter, 
 
 Cannon's boom and musket's roar, 
 Blendins: with our mvriad voices, 
 
 Sound our triumph o'er and o'er. 
 
 Being fully proved, the nation, 
 
 Making Thee its God and Lord, 
 Will attain the state and station 
 
 Promised in Thy holy word. 
 Fondlv 2:azin2: on our banner, 
 
 While all earth and heaven hjars. 
 We commend to Thee our country 
 
 For all cominjj; hundred years. 
 
108 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 TO-DAY AND TOMORROW, 
 
 If we turn to Gocl to-day, 
 
 Tomorrow may find us re-turnins;. 
 
 And if we trim our lamp of faith, 
 Tomorrow may find it burning, 
 
 And we can rejoice when the Master's voice 
 Praiseth the brilliant burning. 
 
 If we do our duty to-day^ 
 
 Though hard may be the doing, 
 
 Tomorrow shall conscience approve, and ^ve 
 Have never a cause for rueing. 
 
 But can justly rejoice when the Master'? 
 voice 
 Commendeth oxu' well-doing. 
 
 If we bear our cross to-day, 
 
 Though hard may be the bearing, 
 
 Tomorrow^ the cross may be changed for the 
 crown, 
 And oiu' freed soul may be sharing 
 
 The rest that is found in Heaven above, 
 Whither we are now repairing. 
 
THE UENTURE. ■ lOO 
 
 (lOl) IS GOOD AND GOD IS LOYE. 
 
 AVhen the warm life-tide is flowing 
 Through our veins with steady speed, 
 
 When no adverse winds are blowing, 
 And the mind from care is freed, 
 
 When the path lies straight before ns, 
 And our sky is bright above, 
 
 Then we sing in joyful chorus: 
 "God is good, and God is love." 
 
 "VMien stern pain with tortures ready, 
 
 Takes its place within the frame, 
 And life's tide, that once was steady, 
 
 Flow^eth like a fitful flame. 
 When the path grows rough and winding, 
 
 And the clouds are black above, 
 Tho' the tears our eyes are blinding, 
 
 Still we murmur, " God is love.'' 
 
 But when those we fondly trusted 
 Prove us false and wound us sore, 
 
 When we know a cross of anguish 
 We must bear till life is o'er. 
 
 Then we center our affections 
 Upon things which are above^ 
 
no THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 And convinced by calm reflections, 
 Sing the chorus, "God is love." 
 
 THE STILLING OF THE TEMPEST, 
 
 Wildly the storm tossed fair Galilee's waters, 
 Loudly the thunder-bolts echoed and rolled, 
 
 Swiftly the lightning flashed hither and thither. 
 Voyagers filling Avith terror untold. 
 
 And long as Jesus lay peacefully sleeping, 
 Vainly his followers steered for the shore, 
 
 Vainly they cried, "Master, save us, we perish !'' 
 Or prayed that the storm would its fury give o'er-. 
 
 But when He woke, and in majesty rising* 
 Bade the wild tumult of Nature " Be still !" 
 
 Quickly a peace that was wholly surprising 
 
 Proved how divine were His words and His will. 
 
 Time is a sea, and as ships we are sailing, 
 
 Onward and outward, day after day. 
 Tempests within and around us prevailing, 
 
 Hasten to wreck us, wherever our way. 
 
 And we grow faint, and would certainly perish, 
 Did not that voice which gave Galilee peace 
 
THE I/ENTURE. lU 
 
 Bid each wild tempest which we must encounter 
 Quickly its menacing fury to cease. 
 
 Oh, perfect, Oh, sweet is the calm that succeedeth 
 Each tempest which Jesus commands to be still! 
 
 And pleasant indeed are the paths where He leadeth 
 Each soul that relies on His wisdom and will. 
 
 With. Him in the vessel, or sleeping or waking, 
 We steer for our harbor, our haven above. 
 
 Secure, since each trial or danger overtaking 
 
 Must yield, as of old, to His power and His love. 
 
 A SONG OF EXULTATION. 
 
 A Saviour, a Saviour! Proclaim the glad tidings. 
 
 Resound it afar through earth's spacoius domain, 
 Till each echo that now is in silence abiding 
 
 Has caught and re-echoed the wonderful strain ; 
 Till every soul wending earth's Avays, sadly bending 
 
 Beneath heavy crosses of suffering and sin. 
 Hears, and in humble, implicit confiding. 
 
 Hastens its part of the theme to begin. 
 
 A Saviour, a Saviour ! No longer in anguish 
 We sadly must languish, o'erburdened with guilt, 
 
112 THE UENTURE. 
 
 A ransom was offered, a sacrifice proifered, 
 The blood of the sinless for sinners was spilt; 
 
 The mountains have rended, the victims ascended, 
 The sword sharp for vengeance in its scabbard is 
 laid, 
 
 We, freely forgiven, accepted of Heaven, 
 
 JSo longer by fear or by doubt are dismayed. 
 
 A Saviour, a Saviour ! now graciously pleading, 
 
 For us interceding, with tenderest love. 
 Urging humanity for moral fraility. 
 
 Sharing our sorrows, his pity to prove ; 
 With us abiding and tenderly chiding, 
 
 Wherever we wonder away from the way; 
 Guarding and guiding, and never deriding 
 
 Thouoh from his love Ave rebelliouslv strav. 
 
 A Saviour, a SaA'iour! with awe Ave adore him. 
 
 And bow at his name with exultant accord, 
 Our homage Ave offer, our serAnces pr(>ffer. 
 
 And gratefully claim Him our Master, our Lord, 
 His kind mediation secures our salvation, 
 
 And we of the laAV are no longer af 'aid ; 
 No grace he denies us, but freely supplies us. 
 
 So long as on Him our affections are stayed. 
 
TEE UENTURE. H^^ 
 
 A Saviour, a Saviour! Oli, mortals, receive Him, 
 
 Own Him your Messiah, Redeemer and King, 
 Witli clierubs and seraphs and highest arch-angels, 
 
 Unite in glad concert, His praises to sing. 
 His cross high upholding, his glory unfolding, 
 
 Inspired by his wonderful mercy and love. 
 In meek adoration, with devout exultation. 
 
 Press on till ye view Him in glory above. 
 
 A REQUEST. 
 
 O, friend, when thinking for me to pray. 
 
 At morning, at noon-tide, or closing of day, 
 Pray not that the treasures of earth may be mine, 
 
 That my sun of prosperity always may shine; 
 Pray not that my path may be constantly straight, 
 
 That foes ne'er confront me in anger or hate ; 
 Pray not that no sorrow my heart ever try, 
 
 Kor the hopes that I cherish ne'er wither or die. 
 
 But pray that Our Father, the bounteous God, 
 Who mingles the cup and proportions the rod. 
 
 In mercy Avill give me true wisdom of mind. 
 And generous heart-wealth, so nicely combined. 
 
 That Avhether my portion be weal or be woe. 
 So long as He wills, I a pilgrim shall go. 
 
114 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 I may ever discern and keep closely in view 
 
 The wrong from the right and the false from the 
 true. 
 
 For wisdom and heart-Avtalth are treasures that 
 bless, 
 When gold has no power any Avrong to redress, 
 Of the kingdom of God the-y are parcel and part, 
 
 And are free for the poor and the lowly in heart, 
 And they live when the treasures of earth are 
 decayed, 
 AVhen the form in the prave for lono; a2:es has laid. 
 Then pray not that the treasures of earth may be 
 mine, 
 But that wisdom and heart-wealth within me 
 combine. 
 
 A THANKSGIVING HYMN. 
 
 Thanksgiving and the voice of melody. 
 
 These are the sounds which best become us, 
 when 
 
 The harvest fills our garners ])lenteously. 
 
 And peace and comfort in our dwellings reign. 
 
 Thanksgiving blent with humble, grateful prayer. 
 These are the tributes which we justly owe. 
 
THE TJENTURE. 115 
 
 As the recipients of the tender care 
 
 Our Father doth so constantly bestow. 
 
 Thanksgiving, adoration, love and praise, 
 
 These are the offerings Avhich we meekly brin^r 
 
 Now that another year has told its days, 
 And paid its tithes to the Eternal King. 
 
 Father Supreme ! deign to accept thy due, 
 Of praise, thanksgiving and adoring love, 
 
 For mercies past, and still with blessings strew 
 Our paths, as on\\'ard through the years we 
 move. 
 
 A DOLLAR OR TWO. 
 
 Of all the tunes to which we move 
 
 As through this world we ceaseless rove. 
 
 There is one tune which guides and sways 
 Us onward in our devious ways, 
 
 And half the things we say or do 
 Are to that tune, ^'a dollar or two." 
 
 ''A dollar or two" among our friends 
 
 To this same tune our friendship bends, 
 From honest worth we coldly turn, 
 Its proffered friendship proudly spurn, 
 
116, THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 And try to think that false is true, 
 When gilt by dollars^ one or two. 
 
 The merchant, when to him we go, 
 Will scan us o'er from crown to toe, 
 
 And having weighed us in his scale 
 Of cents and dollars, if we fail 
 
 Of dollars, with indifference. 
 
 He shows us goods worth only cents. 
 
 But while he weighs us, should we rise 
 To dollars, he will not disguise, 
 
 His pleasure, but with gracious air. 
 To please us he no pains will spare. 
 
 And then, to prove his pleasure true. 
 Discounts a dollar, one or two. 
 
 The lawyer pleads his client's cause, 
 Not to the tune of righteous laws, 
 
 But by the purse each client holds, 
 And by the coin which each enfolds. 
 
 And proves his case alone is true 
 
 Who shows most dollars, one or two. 
 
 The doctor, too, doth come and go 
 To us in times of pain and woe, 
 And deals his pills and potions out 
 
THE. UENTURE. ir 
 
 The while his learning he doth spout, 
 In measures many, large or few, 
 As we have dollars, one or two. 
 
 Whoe'er we be, where'er we go, 
 Whate'er our cause for joy or woe, 
 
 Our state is fixed, our doom is sealed, 
 By law which seldom is repealed, 
 
 And we find favors, great or few, 
 As we have dollars, one or two. 
 
 Yet there is joy for us, for though 
 
 To this base tune awhile we go. 
 There comes a time, a glorious day, 
 
 When love of wealth shall pass aw^ay. 
 And we will not, in all we do. 
 
 Be judged by dollars, one or two, 
 
 COUNT THE COST. 
 
 Often while we are journeying 
 Life's mazy turnings through^ 
 
 Thinking, proposing, planning, 
 What and how w^e will do, 
 
 If we would pause a moment, 
 Calmly to count the cost, 
 
118 THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 ]Much labor might be treasured 
 That now is wholly los't. 
 
 Or when we are arranging 
 
 Where and when we will go^ 
 And how our independence 
 
 To others we Avill show, 
 If we would pause a moment, 
 
 Calmly to count the cost, 
 Much honor might be treasured 
 
 That now is wholly lost. 
 
 And oft w^hen meditatini2: 
 
 Of w^ords which we will speak, 
 To thrill another's bosom, 
 
 Or tinge another's cheek. 
 If we would pause a moment, 
 
 C^almly to count the cost. 
 Much life-breath might be treasured 
 
 That now is wholly lost. 
 
 Therefore let us be watchful, 
 And careful every hour, 
 
 Kememberino; words and actions 
 Are things of miglity power, 
 
 And always in our planning 
 That nothing may be lost, 
 
THE UENTURE. no 
 
 In })rofit, peace and pltasiire, 
 Count carefiillv the cost. 
 
 A\^HEX A\'E FOKGIVE. 
 
 AA'hen real or fancied wrong has stung 
 
 The hearts that should in love abide, 
 When hate its galling taunts has flung 
 
 Till anger for revenge has cried, 
 The surest ])ower to break the spell 
 
 And waken love where love should live, 
 Or ring revenge its burial knell, 
 
 Is the entreating word, "Forgive." 
 
 ''Forgive I" it is the bravest word 
 
 That human lips can ever speak. 
 And nature's heights and depths are stirred 
 
 AVhen rnen of men forgiveness seek, 
 Leiiions of ano-els hover near 
 
 To bear the tidings up to Heaven, 
 When to the plea, "Forgive," they hear 
 
 The generous answer, "All's forgiven." 
 
 "Forgive!" O, if we would forgive 
 As oft we pray to be forgiven, 
 We then would prove it sweet to live. 
 And make our earth another Heaven, 
 
120 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 Auger and malice, pride and hate, 
 And every sin o'er which we pray, 
 
 Would at the contrite word "For2:ive,'' 
 In dire confusion haste away. 
 
 CHORUS.— ''Forgive/' it moves the heart of God, 
 ''Forgive,'' it stays the chastening rod, 
 And we for taste the joys of Heaven 
 When we forgive and are forgiven. 
 
 "lajnd ahead." 
 
 "Land ahead," the mariner singeth. 
 As his vessel plonghs the deep. 
 And his words like music riup-eth, 
 Rousing dreamers from their sleep. 
 
 Fellow-mariner o'er Time's ocean. 
 Though thy course tempestous be, 
 
 Though 'mid trouble's wild commotion 
 Hope is nearly gone from thee ; 
 
 Though no light thou nov/ discernest, 
 ISTor a haven ^vdierein to rest. 
 
 Though the calm for which thon yearnest 
 Seldom here may fill thv breast; 
 
 II 
 
THE UENWRE. 121 
 
 riiere i.s land ahead, though never 
 Mortal eyes its shores have seen, 
 
 A sure haven where anchors never. 
 Slip, nor breakers intervene. 
 
 There is light forever beaming 
 
 From the glorious other side, 
 And with full effulgence streaming 
 
 Far across Time's stormy tide. 
 
 There is rest and joyful singing, 
 
 In the presence of our God, 
 Shouts of gladness often ringing 
 
 Through His glorious abode. 
 
 Land and lio;ht and rest ainl tjladness 
 
 Thou than this can ask no^ more. 
 Why then live in gloomy sadness, 
 . When life's storms will soon be o'er? 
 
 BEAR AND FORBEAR. 
 
 This world is full of pain and trouble, 
 This world is full of grief and care. 
 
 But though our portion may be double, 
 V^ e still should meeklv bravely, bear, 
 
^2-_> THE J7ENTURE, 
 
 This world is full of pride and scorning^ 
 And spiteful foes who will not spare^ 
 
 Yet still there comes the gentle warning, 
 The counsel, "Patiently forbear." 
 
 And he is wise who while forbearing, 
 And meekly sparing, thinks and sings, 
 
 And speaks in words of calm comparing 
 Of what we reckon " better things." 
 
 Therefore if you would truly know 
 Life is worth living and would share 
 
 Heaven's blessedness where'er you go. 
 Make this your rule, " Bear and forbear. 
 
 TRY TO BE HAPPY. 
 
 Try to be happy, 'tis wiser and better. 
 
 Always to look on the pleasantest side. 
 Than to turn doubter, desponder or fretter, 
 
 Thinking more evil will surely betide; 
 Fearing the sun will not shine on thj morrow. 
 
 Or that the breezes adversely will blow ; 
 Friends all forsake us and trouble and sorrow 
 
 Track and precede us ^vherever we go. 
 
THE UENTURE. 128 
 
 (VHORUS. — Try to be happy, try to be happy, 
 Try to be happy to-day, 
 Try to be liappy to-day and tomorrow, 
 Try to be happy alvvay. 
 
 Try to be happy, 'twill profit you never 
 
 To worry and fret o'er events that are past, 
 Let all unpleasantness now and forever 
 
 In the deep sea of forgiveness be cast, 
 Suffer not hatred nor envy nor malice 
 
 That trio of tyrants, to rule in thy heart, 
 Try to be happy till they and their helpers 
 
 Confused and confounded, wholly depart. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Try to be happy, if pain is distressing, 
 Thank the Good Father that bad is not worse, 
 
 Time ma#^ reveal that a glorious blessing 
 Waits where you fear are but chances adverse ; 
 
 Light may be shining tomorrow in places 
 AYhere you see only dread darkness to-day, 
 
 And you may find that the noblest graces 
 Grow while the fondest hopes wither away. 
 
 CHORUS. — 
 
124 THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 Try to be happy, whatever your Btatioii^ 
 Struggle and battle with doubt and despair^ 
 
 There's scarcely a place or a face in creatic?n 
 But has some feature attractive and fair; 
 
 Often reflect and as often remeniber 
 That if the sun were to shine all the while, 
 
 Nature would weary and May and December 
 Never would bring us a reason to smile. 
 
 cHORrs. — 
 
 Tr}^ to be happy. God rules and is reigning^ 
 Keigning triumphant o'er sea and o'er land, 
 
 Grieve him no longer by thankless complaining'^ 
 Kiss with submission his chastening hand. 
 
 Keep on life's sunny side, questioning never 
 Why and for what all this trouble and care, 
 
 Say "Not as I will," and then you will ever 
 Offer the wisest and noblest prayer. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 WHEN SHALL WE MEET AGAIX? 
 
 When shall we meet again? 
 When shall we greet again? 
 When shall our voices com mi no;] in 2: sound? 
 
THE I/ENTURE. 125 
 
 When will our path of life 
 AVhere lies our toil and strife 
 To the same centre again circle round? 
 
 We may not meet again, 
 
 We may not greet again, 
 Life is uncertain and time full of change, 
 ' And hearts here united 
 
 In friendship oft plighted, 
 Distance and circumstance widely estrange. 
 
 Yet we shall meet again, 
 
 And we shall greet again. 
 There is a day and an hour yet to come 
 
 When our paths now diverging 
 
 To one centre emerging 
 Will leave us rejoicing in Heaven at home. 
 
 There when we meet again, 
 
 There when we greet again, 
 Joy like a stream unobstructed will ^ow, 
 
 And the friendships here plighied 
 
 Again re-united 
 Shall in perfecti(>n eternally grow. 
 
120 THE UENTURE.. 
 
 TRUTH SHALL TRIUMPH, 
 
 ^^ Truth crushed to earth shall rise again. 
 
 The eternal years of Gocl are hers/' 
 80 sang the poet, and his notes 
 
 Each justice-loving spirit stirs 
 With rapturous joy — though for a while 
 
 Wrong with proud arrogance holds sway, 
 Its dawn is sure; Truth will arise, 
 
 And go in triumph on her way. 
 
 ^' Truth crushed to earth shall rise again,'' 
 
 O, blessed, O, soul-nerving thought ! 
 It dries the tears in many eyes. 
 
 And strengthens hands which long have wrought 
 Against vast odds of wealth and pride, 
 
 Of selfishness and cruel hate, 
 Of avarice that planned and tried 
 
 By fraud to raise its own estate. 
 
 "Truth crushed to earth sliall rise again," 
 Thank God, this promise will abide 
 
 Till wrong is vanquished; and all those 
 Who Truth and Right have dared deride, 
 
 Shall stand ag^hast to see their work 
 Flvino: as chaff before the wind. 
 
THE UENTURE. r2' 
 
 And learn iis ages onward roll, 
 
 How In opp(»sIng Truth, they sinned. 
 
 ''Truth crushed to earth ^hall rise again," 
 
 Ye friends of justice, hear and heed 
 This glorious thought, and let it nerve 
 
 You when you strength and courage need. 
 Though multitudes unite to crush, 
 
 Hide, baffle, or annihilate, 
 Truth, cling to her, she will arise 
 
 To reion in more than reo^al state. 
 
 LIGHTS ALONG THE SHORPl 
 
 AVhen streams are deep and skies are drear 
 
 And fiercely blows the gale. 
 Till doeful doubt and awful fear 
 
 O'er trust and hope prevail, 
 Yv^hen courage fails us and we seem 
 
 Lost, wrecked forevermore. 
 What joy intense to catch the gleam 
 
 Of lio^hts along; the shore ! 
 
 CHORUS. — O, beauteous lights along the shore! 
 Or stars or beacons fair. 
 We bless your beams and yield no more 
 To billows nor despair. 
 
128 THE UENTURE. 
 
 And oftener still, as on we go, 
 
 Over the sea of Life, 
 When storms of trial round us blow, 
 
 And shriek in hurried strife; 
 Vi'^hen hope grows feeble and we deem 
 
 It vain to struggle more. 
 How cheering to. behold a gleam 
 
 Of light from some safe shore ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Oh, blessed lights along the shore ! 
 
 Telling of coming aid. 
 Shouting above the tempest's roar, 
 
 ^'Courage, be not dismayed!'^ 
 Soon trial will no more distress. 
 
 Soon suffering will be past, 
 God will His faithful children bless, 
 
 And shelter from the blast. 
 
 CHORUS.— 
 
 Oh, friends, as long as on the stream 
 Of Life and Time you toss. 
 
 Though fierce the gales of trial seem. 
 And terrible your loss. 
 
 Pause not in terror nor despair, 
 
THE UENTURE. 12« 
 
 Trust oil till life is o'er, 
 lio! ever shining brightly fair, 
 Lights on the Heavenly shore. 
 
 CHORUS. — 
 
 Oh, glorious lights that flash afar 
 
 Sweet messages of love ! 
 That shout above earth's din and jar, 
 
 " There's rest and peace above," 
 Though storms be long and streams be deep. 
 
 Faith, hope, ne'er, ne'er give o'er, 
 Almighty povver will ever keep 
 
 Lights on the heavenly shore. 
 
 CHORUS. — 
 
 THE AGED CHRISTIAN'S TESTIMONY. 
 
 I am waiting, calmly waiting, 
 
 I am waiting every day 
 For my passport to that country 
 
 Skeptics think so far away, 
 To that blessed Heavenly Canatn 
 
 Where all those by Christ de(;lared 
 '^ Heirs of God," receive the "great things" 
 
 By almighty love prepared.. 
 
^M) THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 Time has brought nie grievous trouble^ 
 
 Perplexity and loss, 
 And I often slipped and faltered, 
 
 While alone I bear my cross. 
 But upon the Rock of Ages 
 
 I at last my burden laid, 
 And He proved a strong deliverer, • 
 
 Loving shelter, guide and aid. 
 
 ^ow my pilgrimage is closing, 
 
 All my labors are complete, 
 Fast the sands of time are slipping 
 
 From beneath my feeble feet, 
 But with calm, snbmissive spirit. 
 
 Steadfast faith and purest love, 
 I am waiting for my passport 
 
 To the better world above. 
 
 (lOD AND OURSELVES. 
 
 We doubt His love for many an hour. 
 
 We set a limit to His power ; 
 Question the wisdoin of His way, 
 His laws with boldness disobey, 
 Yet He doth spare. 
 And still forbear. 
 
THE UENTURS. l.-u 
 
 And ^rant us all a generous share 
 Of sun and shade and sky and air. 
 
 M'e lay each other in the scales 
 
 (^f our own judgment, and who fails, 
 Of our set weight, of them we say, 
 They wander in a godless way, 
 Yet He doth spare, 
 And still forbear. 
 And grant to all a generous share 
 Of sun and shade and sky and air. 
 
 And even tho' He doth commend. 
 We grudge our cavilings to end. 
 And when his voice commandeth, ^^ peace," 
 Reluctantly our strivings cease, 
 Yet He doth spare, 
 And still forbear. 
 And grant to all a generous share 
 Of sun and shade and sky and air. 
 
 Because He sees each human heart, 
 
 And knows the struggle and the smart 
 Which each must pass before the goal 
 Is gained, where body parts with soul, 
 So He doth spare. 
 And still forbenr. 
 
rs2 THE UENTURE. 
 
 And grant to all a generous share 
 In His impartial Father care. 
 
 A WEDDIIS^G-DAY SONG. 
 
 Ring, wedding-bells! Ring loud and clear, 
 vSweet notes of heartv 2:ladness, 
 
 Ring, and a truce to doubt and fear, 
 And every form of sadness. 
 
 Ring, sweetly ring ! till every e^r 
 That feels your glad vibrations 
 
 Thrills joyfully and waits to hear 
 Your further revelations. 
 
 Ring out your tenderest, purest strain, 
 
 For holy troth is plighted, 
 And they who moved ere while as twain. 
 
 As one are now united. 
 
 Ring out your loftiest praise of hope. 
 
 And noble aspiration, 
 FoT' hopes long cherished find to-day 
 
 A happy consumation. 
 
 Ring, swoetly ring! until all hearts 
 To love now growing strangers, 
 
THE UENTURE. \'^^i 
 
 Iv new their youth, rehearse their parts, 
 And flee all faithless clangers. 
 
 Ring, till your peals reach all the zones, 
 
 And no one dares disparage 
 Society's best corner-stone, 
 
 True, virtuous love and marriage. 
 
 MAKE FLOWERS YOUR FRIENDS. 
 
 In the sunny days of childhood. 
 
 When your heart is light and gay, 
 And earth seems a fairy wildwood, 
 
 Where you may unhindered stray, 
 That your soul may carry beauty 
 
 Everywhere your pathway tends, 
 And your heart be strong for duty. 
 
 Make the flowers your daily friends. 
 
 When the joys of childhood vanish, 
 
 And your life is in its prime. 
 When more weighty thoughts have banished 
 
 Many a youthful thought and rhyme, 
 That they may return to cheer you, 
 
 When your heart with sorrow bends, 
 And that angels may seem near you, 
 
 Make the lovelv flowers vour friends. 
 
134 THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 AVhen life's spring and summer sweetness 
 
 Have to autumn ripeness grown, 
 When the hope of joy's completeness 
 
 From your heart has wholly flown, 
 Lest you doubt the love enduring 
 
 That to all your needs attends, 
 And grow thankless or desponding, 
 
 Make the fragrant flowers your friends. 
 
 They Avill talk to you of power. 
 
 Power deep and high and wide, 
 Wisdom, love and tender mercy, 
 
 They will image, side by side ; 
 They wilf speak of dew^ and sunliglit, 
 
 And each thing which nature blends, 
 To produce them, and forev^er 
 
 Tliev will be vour faithful friends. 
 
 REFLECTIONS AFTER READING THE 
 FORTY-SIXTH PSALM. 
 
 "God is our refuge," when a gale 
 Of trouble round us Avildly blows. 
 Till hope and fliith and courage fail. 
 
 And we, reviled by cruel foes, 
 E igerly look for some safe place 
 
THE UENTURE. r.\r, 
 
 AV^herein to hide from foe and storm, 
 (3h, then the thought is grandly sweet, 
 God is our refuge and retreat. 
 
 God is our strength wlien pain and grief 
 
 Have tortured us till strength is gone, 
 And life appears a dismal night, 
 
 A\'^ithout a star, without a dawn, 
 Then like a sunbeam, warm and clear, 
 
 Disj)elling all our doubt and gloom, 
 Gilding our pathway's breadth and length, 
 
 Comes the blest thought, God is our strength. 
 
 God is our very present help, 
 
 In time of trouble and of need. 
 Oh, blessed anchor for our trust. 
 
 Oh, safe foundation for our creed. 
 I^et toil, perplexity and pain 
 
 Heart-ache and tears our portion prove. 
 All will but make us more and more 
 
 Our Refuge, Strength and Help adore. 
 
 WE NEED NOT SIT AYITH FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Though we may not cross the 0(;eans, 
 Nor climb the mountains high, 
 
l;-5C THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 Though we can not feed the thousands 
 Who for bread in anguish cry, 
 
 Though we have not gold and silver 
 To bestow with lavish hand, 
 
 Nor the power to build a structure 
 That would beautify the land, 
 
 We need not sit down with folded hands. 
 
 To sigh the hours away, 
 Scorning all the little duties 
 
 Which within and round us lay; 
 Keeping from the humble vineyards 
 
 And the fields for harvest white, 
 Ever beckoning us io labor 
 
 Zealously for Truth and Right; 
 
 Calling us to warn the erring, 
 
 And to comfort those who weep; 
 Bidding us to help the straying, 
 
 Virtue's holy paths to keep ; 
 Urging us to scatter broadcast 
 
 Kindly words and loving deeds, 
 Meanwhile sedulously guarding 
 
 Our own hearts from sinful Aveeds. 
 
 Every moment brings some duty, 
 And if we that duty do, 
 
THE UENTURE. l^H 
 
 In the blessed, long forever, 
 
 We our course will never rue, 
 B\it like some brave victor looking 
 
 O'er a battle-field well won, 
 We with honest joy can listen 
 
 To the Master's pleased ^^ Well done." 
 
 For as Time is made of seconds, 
 
 Earth of minute grains of sand, 
 So the doing little duties 
 
 Tinges life with colors grand, 
 Stamps the character with beauty, 
 
 And enwreaths around the name 
 God's approval, far more lasting 
 
 Than the laurel wreath of fame. 
 
 HERE AND THERE. 
 
 Here the solemn, utter silence. 
 
 And the lonely isolation. 
 Here the mourning o'er desires 
 
 That can have no consummation. 
 Here the curses and the losses. 
 
 And the weary, weary pain. 
 And the longings for dear faces 
 
 Life will show us not again. 
 
u\s THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 There the music, sweet and thrilling^ 
 
 And the countless, happy throng, 
 There the knowledge that desires 
 
 Which were here denied, were wrong, 
 Tliere the crowns and harps all golden, 
 
 4^nd the satisfying rest, 
 And the joy with which the ransomed 
 
 Shall forever more be blest. 
 
 FRUST IN THE LORD ALWAYS. 
 
 ''Trust ye in the Lord forever, for iu the Lord Jehovah 
 is everlasting strength." — Isiah xxvi., 4. 
 
 In youth's bright morn, in life's full prime, 
 
 Where'er thy path may tend, 
 Trust in the Lord, and all the time 
 
 Make Him thy guide and friend. 
 If joys along thy pathway teem, 
 
 Or not a joy remains, 
 Still trust, long as life's crimson stream 
 
 Flows warmly in thy veins. 
 
 Trust in the Lord when prime is pyst, 
 
 And the white seals of age 
 Are fixed upon thee, firm and fast, 
 
 Till thou no more canst wage 
 
THE UENTURE. K-iO 
 
 Life's battle as in younger days, 
 
 Then firmlv trust the Lord, 
 Commit to Him all, all thy ways. 
 
 And i-est upon His word. 
 
 Trust in the Lord when Death's eojd hand 
 
 Touches thy quivering heart, 
 When liife's warm stream is at a stand 
 
 And soul and flesh must part. 
 What we call death is only change, 
 
 The spirit's second birth, 
 Its freedom evermore to range, 
 
 Free from the ills of earth. 
 
 Then trust the J^ord in youth and joy. 
 
 Trust him in age and pain, 
 Karth's mightiest powers can not destroy 
 
 If He thy cause maintain. 
 Oh, then, trust him implicitly, 
 
 Though short or long life's length, 
 For in Jehovah, Lord of all, 
 
 Is everlasting strength. 
 
 THE WILL OF GOD. 
 
 "'God's will be done," if we would say this meekly 
 When by pretended friends the heart is stung, 
 
140 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 When some bright star of hope we long have followed 
 
 Is like a metor from its orbit flung, 
 We then would find we have a friend unfailing, 
 
 To sympathize, to cheer, to guide and save, 
 A star that o'er all darkening powers prevailing, 
 
 Will light us safely, even through the grave. 
 
 " God's will be done." If we would say this meekly, 
 
 AVhen pain is torturing us with ruthless hand, 
 When sore bereavement, bitter grief and sorrow 
 
 Pursue us like a savage, murderous band, 
 We then would find wisdom and love commanding 
 
 Our every pang — and calmly keeping still. 
 The peace which passeth skeptics' understanding, 
 
 Deep as the ocean, would our spirits fill. 
 
 '^ God's will be done." If we would say it meekly, 
 
 When called to bear some heavy, worldly loss, 
 Some strong perplexity or care or trouble, 
 
 That to our judgment seems a needless cross. 
 We then would see experiences we blindly 
 
 Regard as evils, and as such deplore. 
 Is discipline, arranged with purpose kindly. 
 
 By Him whose love and wisdom we ignore. 
 
 ^' God's will be done." Forever it is wisest 
 Forever it is kindest, truest, best, 
 
THE UENTURE. 141 
 
 Forever it insures most present blessing, 
 Most future satisfaction, peace and rest. 
 
 The sun may cease to shine, the moon be darkened, 
 The stars may fall, the solid rocks decay, 
 
 But if we to God's word have humbly hearkened, 
 We shall have light and blessedness alway. 
 
 A SONG SUGGESTED BY A SONG. 
 
 *' The last rose of summer,'' a fair maiden sang, 
 
 &;> 
 
 And her voice like the echoes of fairy bells rang 
 "The last rose of summer,^' Oh, sad is the day 
 When the queen of the flowers is fading away. 
 
 In springtime, when roses abundantl}^ bloom, 
 We thoughtlessly pluck them, inhale their perfume, 
 
 Dissect their rich petals and toss them around. 
 Or carelessly trample them into the ground. 
 
 But when every rosebud is blasted or flown, 
 And the last one is blooming alone, all alone, 
 
 We think it of blossoms most fra2:rant and fair, 
 And pluck it with almost a reverent air. 
 
 My life has its roses, yet sometimes a thorn 
 Of misunderstanding, of pride or of scorn, 
 
U2 THE UENTURE, 
 
 Has pierced me and mentally caused me to say, 
 " My last rose of summer" is fading away. 
 
 But just as the roses exhale sweet perfume, 
 Tho' plucked, nevermore in bright beauty to bloom, 
 
 So I must be patient, forbearing and kind, 
 And with balm of forgiveness heart-bruises must 
 bind. 
 
 l^ecause the same power that bids them decay 
 For me writes the sentence sure, "passing away," 
 
 And as they yield fragrance when beauty is fled, 
 80 I would leave kind thoughts when laid with the 
 dead. 
 
 '' The last rose of summer" to-day is my song, 
 And the lessons it teaches are many and long. 
 
 Oh, wretched and much to be pitied are they 
 Whose last rose of summer has faded away. 
 
 NOTHING IS LOST. 
 
 No seed is lost, though long it lie, 
 Deep hidden in the soil, 
 
 Or if unnourished it may die. 
 Despite the sower's toil. 
 
 It is not lost although in ne'er 
 
THE UENTURE. \A'.\ 
 
 111 beauteous verdure spring, 
 As grain of dust, ^twill help to rear 
 Some other seed or thiup;. 
 
 CHORUS. — No seed shall die, nothing be lost, 
 No influence lose its power, 
 The seed shall change, the lost be found 
 In some propitious hour. 
 
 Oh, cheering thought! each little seed 
 
 We late or earlj sow, 
 Tho' it be destined or decreed 
 
 Never to sprout or grow, 
 To leaf nor luscious fruit nor flower, 
 
 Nor precious, golden grain. 
 Some thing will prove some future hour, 
 
 We sowed it not in vain, 
 
 CHOBUS. — 
 
 Oh, blessed joy-inspiring thought ! 
 
 Not one material thing 
 Is wholly lost — one's poverty 
 
 To others wealth may bring, 
 For compensation is a law^ 
 
 Fixed by almighty power, 
 
U4 -THE IlENTURE, 
 
 And granite rocks may grow from seed 
 Too weak to bear a flower. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 jSTothing is lost, our words and deeds 
 
 Which seem to lack in power, 
 For good or ill, are fruitful seeds 
 
 Awaiting but their hour. 
 Their favoring circumstance or time 
 
 In which to grow and bloom, 
 A.nd help some soul to God and heaven, 
 
 Or speed it to its doom. 
 
 CHORUS. — 
 
 For influence is a mighty wave. 
 
 Forever rolling on. 
 On through all time tho' to the grave 
 
 Mortality be gone, 
 And onward it shall ev^er roll, 
 
 Despite all human skill, 
 Exerting upon many a soul 
 
 Some power for good or ill. 
 
 Oh, solemn, wholly solemn thought! 
 Our influence is a power. 
 
THE UENTURE, 14. 
 
 Mighty, tho^ subtle, and is fraught 
 
 With issues every hour, 
 For good or ill, for weal or woe. 
 
 From dawn till set of sun, 
 Whatever our state, where'er we go. 
 
 Outward the currents run. 
 
 CHORUS. — 
 
 THE VOYAGE OF LIFE. 
 
 While across time's ocean sailing, 
 
 Should thy sky adversely lower. 
 And temptation's waves assailing 
 
 Kock thee with alarming power, 
 When thy faith begins to waver. 
 
 And thy strength and hope grow small, 
 Raise thine arms to Heaven, where Jesus 
 
 Waits to heed thy faintest call. 
 
 Should thy friends most loved and cherished 
 
 All desert or wound thee sore. 
 And fond hopes like snow-flakes perished. 
 
 Cheer thy spirit nevermore, 
 A¥hen thy heart is sick with trouble. 
 
 And thy mind dark with despair. 
 
146 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 Look to Jesus, who regards thee 
 With the tenderest love and care. 
 
 All regardless of derision, 
 
 Whatsoever may befall, 
 Though all tear-dimmed be thy vision, 
 
 And fresh trials may appal, 
 Long as lifers voyage is tending 
 
 Outward, nearer to its end, 
 Look to Jesus, He will prove thee 
 
 An unfailing, precious friend, 
 
 CHORUS. — Look to Jesus ! Look to Jesus ! 
 Whatsoe'er thy trouble be, 
 Trust in Jesus ! Trust in Jesus ! 
 He will prove a friend to thee. 
 
 SWEET MEMORY BELLS. 
 
 Sweet memorv bells, ring out your chimes, 
 
 Recall the hours forever fled, 
 Recount to us those happy times 
 
 When hope o'er life rich halo shed. 
 When hearts were tender, trusting, true, 
 
 Unchilled by disappointment's blast, 
 And all the hours too swiftly flew, 
 
 To swell the cvcles of the Past. 
 
THE I/ENTURE, 147 
 
 Sweet memory bells ! ring, softly ring, 
 
 Bring back to us those happy years 
 When we (;ould gaily smile and sing 
 
 And found small cause for sighs or tears; 
 When we were bound by many cords 
 
 To life, and all that makes life dear, 
 And sought by kindly, hopeful words 
 
 Less happy souls to light and cheer. 
 
 Ring out your chimes until again 
 
 The faith, the trust of childhood corne, 
 And we can realize all men 
 
 Are brothers, seeking for one home; 
 Ring, until envy, malice, hate 
 
 Are banished from our hearts awhile. 
 And we with peace, with joy elate. 
 
 Exult in God's approving smile. 
 
 Oh, ring, in your own magic way. 
 
 Until the present seems the past, 
 Until the troubles of to-day 
 
 In deep oblivion's sea are cast, 
 Until the tears that dim our eyes 
 
 Are changed to smiles o'er joys long fled, 
 And we roam free 'neath cloudless skies 
 
 Clasping the hands of loved ones dead. 
 
u^ THE UENTURE. 
 
 Kirg clear, ring loud, the echoing cries 
 
 Of thwarted hopes have dulled our ear^j, 
 And time from us exacts so much 
 
 While swelling the eternal years, 
 Ring, softly ring, until your peal 
 
 Awakes some long-forgotten song, 
 Over each wearied sense to steal 
 
 Like voices loved but silent long, - 
 
 Ring, ring, until we cease all groans 
 
 O'er joys created but to fly. 
 Until we hush regretful moans 
 
 O'er flowers we cherished but to die. 
 Ring, till our shrinking souls grow strong 
 
 Bravely to bear our Heaven- shaped cross, 
 With patience, tho' life may seem long 
 
 Or rough with trouble, pain or loss. 
 
 NOT FOREVER. 
 
 Not forever shall we sorrow, 
 Not forever shall we sigh, 
 
 Not forever shall our future 
 
 Closely wrapped in mystery lie, 
 
 Not forever shall we wander, 
 Feeling desolate and lone. 
 
THE UENTURE; U9 
 
 Feeling that among earth's millions 
 We are friendless and unknown. 
 
 Sometime we shall cease to sorrow, 
 
 Sometime we shell cease to sigh, 
 Sometime darkness will have vanished 
 
 Wholly from our spirit's sky, 
 We no more shall sadly wander, 
 
 Desolate and drear and lone, 
 But among a happy people, 
 
 Knowing all we shall be known. 
 
 Even now the hours are flying, 
 And the darkness fades away. 
 
 Even now we catch the glimmer 
 Of the promised " sometime" day. 
 
 Faith looks up with exultation, 
 Hope begins the cheering song, 
 "Not forever shall we sorrow. 
 Sometime speedeth fast along." 
 
 ASK ME XOT TO DRI^'K. 
 
 Oh, ask me not to sip the wine. 
 
 The sparkling, ruby wine. 
 For though within the goblet bright 
 
150 THE IlENTURE. 
 
 It harmlessly may shine, 
 A horrid spell, a fatal charm 
 
 Uuseen is lurking there, 
 Which, if they once but touch the soul, 
 
 Will lure it to despair. 
 
 Oh, tempt me not to taste the wine, 
 
 The sparkling, ruby wine, 
 For though within the goblet bright 
 
 It harmlessly may shine, 
 In every drop a serpent lurks. 
 
 To sting the trusting heart. 
 And lure it from all lovely things 
 
 Forever more to part. 
 
 Oh, urge me not to drink the wine, 
 
 The sparkling, ruby wine. 
 For though within the goblet bright 
 
 It harmlessly may shine. 
 It holds a flame to wrap the life 
 
 In more than midnight gloom. 
 And set upon the precious soul 
 
 The seal of hopeless doom. 
 
 I dare not, will not sip the wine, 
 
 The sparkling, ruby wine, 
 Fur though withm the goblet bright 
 
THE UENTURE, I5l 
 
 It harmlessly may shine, 
 If I should sip the treacherous draught, 
 
 A brother or a friend 
 Might be thereby induced to drink, 
 
 And ruin be the end. 
 
 CHORUS.-^Oh, ask me not, Oh, tempt me not 
 To sip the sparkling wine. 
 For, left within the goblet bright, 
 It harmlessly may shine. 
 
 A SONG FOK " THE MAKE HOME HAPPY" 
 
 AEMY. 
 
 All around us there is sorrow, 
 
 Toil and pain and grief and woe. 
 Weary, troubled looks confront us. 
 
 Almost everywhere we go. 
 And to cheer the sad and weary 
 
 In each home throughout our land. 
 We have joined ourselves together 
 
 As a "Make home happy" band. 
 
 UHOKUS. — " Make home happy, make home happy," 
 Is our motto every day, 
 "Make home happy, make home happy," 
 While we work and while we play. 
 
152 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 From the fertile western prairies 
 
 From the rugged northern hills, 
 From the verdant southern valleys, 
 
 Through which flow the noisy rills, 
 We have gathered, and have promised, 
 
 Heart to heart and hand to hand. 
 We will try, all try to scatter 
 
 Happiness throughout the land. 
 
 CHORUS. — 
 
 Lo, our weapons — they are mighty. 
 
 Though not made of iron or steel, 
 And will make the hosts of trouble 
 
 From their strongholds quickly reel, 
 Love we carry as our rifle, 
 
 Of a sure, unerring aim. 
 While kind Charity, our sabre. 
 
 Is already known to fame. 
 
 Hark ! our battle-trump is calling. 
 For recruits through all the land, 
 
 Hark ! the bugle- notes of duty 
 Clearly echo its command. 
 
 Brothers, sisters, haste to join us. 
 And our doctrine daily test. 
 
THE UENTURE. . I5:j 
 
 Tliat by making others happy, 
 We with happiness are blest. 
 
 CHORUS. — 
 
 IX)VE AND FLOWERS. 
 
 One day I passed a garden, 
 
 And my love was there, 
 With her hands brim-full of flowers, 
 
 Of flowers sweet and rare. 
 But sweeter than the flowers, 
 
 Fr(»m vine or shrub or tree. 
 As she stood there in the garden, 
 
 Seemed my Idve to me, 
 
 I stopped to see the flowers, 
 ^ The flowers sweet and rare. 
 And I said, "they all are beautiful, 
 
 Are bea\itiful and rare." 
 She blushingly assented. 
 
 And I could plainly see 
 As we stood there in the garden, 
 
 That my love loved me. 
 
 Then I grew bold to tell her, 
 To tell her that my heart 
 
154 THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 Held her, of flowers and treasures 
 The fairest, richest part, 
 
 And when I paused and waited 
 An answering word or sign, 
 
 She proifered me the flowers, 
 And softly whispered, ^^ Thine." 
 
 We have walked in many gardens, 
 
 Since then, my love and I, 
 We have seen our hopes, like flowers, 
 
 Droop and wither, fade and die. 
 But we never have regretted 
 
 What we said that happy day, 
 When our hands were full of flowers. 
 
 Full of flowers, sweet and gay. 
 
 For though we met with trials, 
 
 We invariably have found 
 Thorns grow among the roses. 
 
 On the best attended ground. 
 Yet each trouble and each trial 
 
 Has a purpose or a use, 
 And the roses are the sweetest 
 
 Where the thorns are most profuse. 
 
THE UENTURE. 155 
 
 THE FIRST ALARM. 
 
 Fire ! fire ! hark, the eclio 
 
 Falls upon the autumn air, 
 Plainly saying there is danger 
 
 And a cause for watchful care. 
 But the cry is now so common 
 
 That we have no cause to fear, 
 In a little while the danger 
 
 Will entirely disappear. 
 
 CHORUS. — Fire ! Fire ! Fire ! Fire ! 
 
 Yet we have no cause to fear, 
 
 Water, water quenches ever, 
 Lake and river both are near. 
 
 Fire! Fire! hark, more quickly 
 
 Sounds afar the awful cry. 
 Lurid flames are leaping upward, 
 
 As if they would touch the sky. 
 But we need not fear nor tremble, 
 
 For the city's heart is strong, 
 And before the flames can reach it. 
 
 They must struggle hard and long. 
 
 OHORU8. — 
 
156 THE UENTURE. 
 
 Fire! Fire! louder, clearer, 
 
 Bursts the sound from many bells, 
 Every peal and every echo, 
 
 Of increasing danger tells, 
 But there is no lack of water, 
 
 And the flames e're long must yield, 
 Wv' for years have dwelt securely. 
 
 And are masters of the field. 
 
 CHORUS. — 
 
 THE CONFLAGRATION. 
 
 Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! 
 
 Hark! with awful force and speed 
 From the bells the words are leaping. 
 
 Saying there ie fire indeed. 
 Saying water, mighty water, 
 
 Has not stopped its onward course. 
 And the flames are rushing forward 
 
 Scorning every human force. 
 
 (^Hoiitjs. — Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! 
 Fire upon every side. 
 
 Heaven help us, Heaven save ut* 
 From the awful, threitening tide. 
 
THE I/ENWRE. .151 
 
 Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! 
 
 Hope within u.s altnost dies, 
 Awful fear and consternation 
 
 Shows in many tones and eyes, 
 Precious homes and hopes are burnirtg, 
 
 Toils of many a weary year ; 
 Fire to dust and smoke is turning 
 
 Everything the heart holds dear. 
 
 CHORUS. — 
 
 Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! 
 
 Hark, the word rings yet more clear, 
 Onward sweeps the burning current, 
 
 The proud city^s heart an ear; 
 Faster, faster eveiy moment 
 
 Rushes on the glowing tide, 
 Scattering blackened desolation 
 " Want and woe f»n every side. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Lo ! the citv's heart is burnino;, 
 
 Melting to its very core^ 
 All it claimed of life and beauty 
 
 Is forever past and o'er; 
 Ruins and Fmall heaps of ashes 
 
158 THE UENTURE, 
 
 Tell alone of what has been 
 Once the joy, the pride, the glory 
 Of ten thousand busy men. 
 
 CHORUS. — 
 
 Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! 
 
 Long ago the echo died, 
 But with some of us who heard it, 
 
 It forever will abide. 
 And as pilgrims to their Mecca, 
 
 We will often sadly turn 
 To the city's core and center, 
 
 Which was builded but to burn. 
 
 CHORUS. — 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
THE UENTURE, ici 
 
 THE WORTH OF PRAYER. 
 
 The power, the worth of prayer, how vastly great, 
 Transcending all earth's powers to help or bless. 
 
 Making the dreariest spot, the hardest fate 
 In seeming but a very little less 
 
 Than a clear vision or foretaste of Heaven, 
 For steadfast faith's perpetuation given. 
 
 I^ook to the past, the mighty, vanished past, 
 Hark to the marvelous stories it can tell, 
 
 Of rocks and skies- holding their treasures fast. 
 Of fire that from the heavens quickly fell. 
 
 When some old prophet, to attain an end. 
 Prayed water might be stayed or fire descend. 
 
 Look to that brother, who by fraud had won 
 The birthright from his tired, despairing twin. 
 
 When years their stern, instructive work had done, 
 And he, full conscious of his selfish sin. 
 
 Prays all night long the wronged one may forgive, 
 And suffer him and his in peace to live. 
 
 Kotice how^ kindly all his prayer is heard. 
 How speedily all that he asks is given. 
 
 How hate, that once his brother's heart so stirred, 
 Is exorcised, and from him wholly driven. 
 
162 THE UENTURE, 
 
 And he goes joyfully, with hurrying feet 
 The wanderer with forgiving kiss to greet. 
 
 See next a chosen people led away 
 
 From bondage dire to a fair promised land, 
 
 Murmuring, rebelling, sinning, day by day. 
 Till God in righteous anger lifts His hand 
 
 Saying, "Let me alone, let me alone. 
 
 Till I my full destroying power have shown." 
 
 Mark with what earnestness the man who knows 
 By years of trial the true worth of prayer. 
 
 Sends up the plea, "Nay, Lord, not upon those 
 Heirs of thy covenant, thy tender care. 
 
 Wreak thy displeasure, Avreak it upon me, 
 At best a withered leaf, a fruitless tree." 
 
 Then note how quickly God is pacified. 
 And with his cloudy pillar, all day long. 
 
 That glows like fire at night, deigns still to guide. 
 Guard and sustain the stubborn, doubting throng, 
 
 Till journeying, danger, doubt and fear are o'er. 
 And they rest safely on blest Cimaan's shore. 
 
 Behold five heathen kings, with all their host 
 
 Of warriors, eager to annihilate, 
 A few brave men, who, with no leader, post 
 
THE I/ENTURE. 168 
 
 To meet them, heedless of the awful fate 
 Planned out for them, because their trust is staid 
 On Him, whose counsel is, ^' Be not afraid." 
 
 See their brave leader bow his head in prayer, 
 To God for help, for victory complete, 
 
 Then sure that he is heard and may declare. 
 The joyful fact, the amazing words repeat, 
 *^Sun, stand thou still, Moon, venture not to rise, 
 Until this host, confused and vanquished, flies." 
 
 And lo! those mighty orbs, which ne'er before 
 Had heeded any wish or word of man, 
 
 In meek obedience to the mandate, pour 
 Motionless light upon the rear and van 
 
 Of that small army, till the day is done. 
 Foes fled and glorious victory fairly won. 
 
 Next hear a childless wife her longings plead. 
 Till God in pity listening to her prayer. 
 
 Sends her a son to be a wondrous seed, 
 
 A priest, a judge, whom all men shall declare 
 
 A holy man, worthy the priestly name, 
 Worthy forevermore of noble fame. 
 
 See there a king upon a sick-bed laid, 
 
 Told by the prophets he must shortly die, 
 
164 THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 Turn to the wall^ regretful and dismayed, 
 And pray for lengthened days, till the reply 
 
 Is sent, " Cease all thy moans and prayers and tears. 
 Unto thy life is added fifteen years/' 
 
 Look at that city, once so grandly great,.- 
 
 Now desolated, and the faithful few 
 Inhabitants who share its changed estate, 
 
 Despised, oppressed, not knowing what to do, 
 And lo ! in answer to the prophet's prayer. 
 
 All is transformed, changed to a picture fair. 
 
 Later, behold a chosen people doomed 
 By the proud hate of a base mind to l^e 
 
 Wholly exterminated and entombed 
 
 All in one day because one brave man's knee 
 
 Bends not in cringing homage to a slave, 
 An arrant coward and unpitying knave. 
 
 Then mark Avhat prayer achieves when all is known 
 To the fair queen, whose people and own life 
 
 Had been in jeopardy. How though alone, 
 Or few in number, in each time of strife. 
 
 For might and mastery, how God's people win, 
 The victory, and reverse the plots of sin. 
 
 Then seek the furnace hot, the lions' den. 
 
 Behold, the men of prayer walk brave and strong, 
 
THE FENTURE. 165 
 
 Uiiscatheclj untouched, endeavoring there and then 
 To tell all doubters by triumphant song 
 
 God for his children has a constant care, 
 
 Marks all tlioir woes and hears their faintest prayer. 
 
 Xext go to that grand palace, where a king 
 Perplexed, astonished, sits in wild despair. 
 
 Because sly memory has refused to bring 
 Before his mind the vision, foul or fair. 
 
 Which, while he slept, the dream-god's magic wand 
 Caused in his presence for a while to stand. 
 
 See how, when all his efforts futile prove. 
 He bids the wise men of his kingdom come. 
 
 And says in stern command, "E'en as ye love 
 Your lives, sit not supinely grieved or dumb. 
 
 But show at once my vanished dream to me, 
 And tell me truly what its import be." 
 
 Hear them cry out, indignant and astound, 
 
 "O, King, tell us thy dream and Ave will show 
 The meaning or interpretation joined 
 
 Thereto, but to make known the dream, you know 
 That never yet did potentate or king 
 
 Demand so strange, impossible a thing," 
 
166 THE UENTURE, 
 
 And while unmoved his order he repeats, 
 
 And all the Avise men tremble, wail and weep, 
 
 See Daniel and his friends seek their retreats 
 
 And humbly pray their God long pledged to keep 
 
 Covenant and mercy, graciously to show 
 
 The vision which had vexed their monarch so. 
 
 Xotice how quickly their united pleas 
 
 Prevail and win the curious favor sought, 
 
 And Daniel, wise to utter prophecies. 
 
 Is to the troubled monarch's presence brought, 
 
 And tells him dream and meaning, till he cries, 
 " Your God is Lord of gods, all true, all wise.'' 
 
 Consider, too, the many, many more 
 
 Men of prophetic days, who in each hour 
 
 Of danger or of need, were wont to pour 
 Into God's ear their pleas, until his power 
 
 Was manifested in the good they sought. 
 
 And doubting souls to pray with faith were taught. 
 
 Think now of Olivet and that blest day 
 When Jesus to the multitude declared 
 
 We are earth's blessed ones, and bade all pray — 
 ]Not as the Pharisee, who proudly bared 
 
 His piety, saying time and again, 
 "Go.l, I thank thee, I'm not like other men." 
 
THE UENTURE. 167 
 
 Bade them in humble, universal love, 
 
 Rich, poor, high, low, kmgs, subjects, bond or 
 free. 
 All pray, " Our Father, who in heaven above 
 
 Art housed, and on earth should likewise be 
 Our Father, by whose power we live. 
 
 As Thou forgivest us, may we forgive/' 
 
 Go to that mountain top whereon He knelt, 
 While all within the valley lay asleep ; 
 
 Think how His tender, loving spirit felt. 
 
 What anguish wrung His heart, when he could 
 weep 
 
 For those who dared His holiness deride. 
 
 Dared shout, " Away ! Let Him be crucified !" 
 
 Hear Him when lifting up His eyes to heaven 
 
 After his final supper and" address — 
 More eloquent than all he yet had given — 
 
 Pray : " Father, keep and sanctify and bless 
 These, and all others whom Thou givest me. 
 
 And make them all as one — as one in Thee/' 
 
 Behold him in the garden struggling sore 
 With nature and the innate love of life ; 
 Hear how he utters o'er and o'er and o'er, 
 ^^Not as I will," yet cannot end the strife 
 
1^-8 THE IlENTURE. 
 
 ^Twix will and nature, till the pitying cfay 
 Bids the hard night of conflict pass away. 
 
 Then watch Him calmly go to meet His fate, 
 
 Of crucifixion for humanity, 
 Heedless that many madly scoif and prate, 
 
 Trying to prove that no divinity 
 Attaches to Him ; praying as He goes. 
 
 For blessings, ceaseless blessings on His foes. 
 
 Later, behold Him on the cruel cross. 
 
 With bleeding hands and side, and thorn-crowned 
 head, 
 Did ever man assume so great m loss? 
 
 Was ever blood so pure, so precious, shed? 
 Did ever air resound a nobler cry? 
 "Forgive them, it is. finished, I can die.'^ 
 
 Then hear the apostles as they go their way 
 After their last commission, to proclaim 
 
 The Gospel tidings, hear them humbly pray 
 
 For what they want, in their dear Master's name, 
 
 And learn from the emphatic answers given 
 
 How prayer unlocks the treasure stores of Heaven^ 
 
 Think, too, of the unnumbered faithful souls, 
 
 Who since the world began have asked in prayer 
 
THE UENTURE. 169 
 
 Of Him who all the uDi verse controls, 
 
 Whatever they wished or needed, larger share 
 
 Of wisdom, grace or earth^s material things, 
 And lo! it come, borne by swift angel wings. 
 
 Think of all these, then humbly kneel and pray. 
 
 Whenever you are tempted or dismayed. 
 Put doubt and fear far from your mind away, 
 
 Have faith, and pray as you have never prayed, 
 So shall the ear, the eye, the heart, the hand. 
 
 Of the Almighty God for you have care. 
 And you each day more fully understand 
 
 The privilege, the power, the worth of prayer. 
 
 GOD'S PATIENCE AND GOD'S PEOPEE. 
 
 Malicious foes burning with jealous hate. 
 
 Spies, whisperers, and blasphemous perjurers. 
 
 May in concerted phalanx compass them, . 
 
 Deprive them of all weapons, all defence. 
 
 Demolish every refuge they descry, 
 
 In(;rease their burdens, bind them hand and foot. 
 
 Put out their eyes and shut them into cells, 
 
 Shockingly foul, utterly desolate. 
 
 Dark as was chaos wiien the voice of God 
 
 Pierced it with that imperative command, 
 
no THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 '^Let there be light;" yes, more, may silence them, 
 Scourge them and rack them most amazingly, 
 Threaten and menace them with torments new, 
 A.t morn, at noon and when the even-tide 
 Pronounces its blest benediction, ^^E-est;" 
 Relentlessly may carry on theh^ work, 
 Ineffably and consumately base, 
 Till they have wrested from their victims all 
 But life, sheer life, and only sparing it 
 That they may add to their own infamy 
 As cruelty insatiate may suggest. 
 By mockery, insult, arrogance and show 
 Of triumph o'er their utter misery. 
 
 All this the enemies of those who trust 
 In God as long declared, Mighty to save. 
 Strong to deliver and to recompense. 
 Defiantly have done, are doing now. 
 While He, their pledged protector, father, friend. 
 In seeming heedlessness permits the wrong, 
 The base oppression, having reasons good. 
 Although they to our comprehension are 
 Wholly inscrutable, or w^orse than that. 
 Appear unjust. 
 
 Yet let no one who God's great patience dares. 
 And His forbearance mocks, hope to escape 
 
THE UENTURE. 17I 
 
 Unpunished for their rash presumptuousness, 
 
 For in His own good time He will dravv near 
 
 Unto His trusting, tortured, wearied heirs, 
 
 In tenderest pity, and will comfort them. 
 
 Abundantly, while on their reckless foes 
 
 So very confident He would not heed 
 
 Or care for what they did or planned to do, 
 
 He will look down in righteous, angry scorn, 
 
 In furious indignation that will break 
 
 Their haughty power and wither it away 
 
 As grass is withered when the summer sun 
 
 Pours down his hottest rays in time of drought, 
 
 And while they cringe and cower in their surprise, 
 
 Stopping their fiendish work because they must, 
 
 And not because they are in some degree 
 
 Repentant for the suffering they have caused, 
 
 God, to His people more than doubly dear, 
 
 To Him for what they suffer, or unto 
 
 Their faithful friends who shared their lot of woe 
 
 In spirit, if not in the active sense, 
 
 He will give power, permission and command. 
 
 To wreak out vengeance, greater for delay, 
 
 Speedily on their enemies and His ; 
 
 Give them the right, the honored privilege 
 
 Fully to prove His perfect righteousness; 
 
 To prove to all gainsaying, doubtless He 
 
172 THE IlENTURE. 
 
 Loves justice even as He loves Himself, 
 Not that it has iutrinsic exellence 
 When unapplied, unexercised, unused. 
 But that it is in very great degree 
 One of His most exalted attributes, 
 With which He can not for one moment part^ 
 Without large abdigation of what makes 
 His perfect total of majestic worth, 
 Glory and excellence, which ne'er can be 
 Equalled, much less excelled, tho' we should try- 
 Throughout all time and all eternity. 
 Try constantly, with highest wrought up zeal, 
 Excelling in its force by vast degrees 
 All that we reckon zeal ; that mercy which 
 Proves so conclusively His fatherhood. 
 His loving care, his tireless, watchful heed 
 Of each and everything that helps to make 
 The full, grand whole of the vast universe. 
 
 O, gloriously wonderful, among 
 God's many graces and high attributes. 
 Shines forth His perfect patience toAvard those 
 • Who wrong His people and defy His power. 
 And comforting, exceeding comforting 
 Is the assurance of God's constant care 
 For all who humbly put their trust in Him 
 
THE UENTURE. 173 
 
 While traveling the devious paths of earth, 
 
 Thronged as they are Avith many enemies, 
 
 Who ask no higher pleasure than to grieve, 
 
 Perplex, oppress and hinder all who say 
 
 They are but pilgrims seeking for a home, 
 
 A heavenly country, far from mortal ken. 
 
 Where they will nevermore through the dark glass 
 
 Of hope, anticipation or desire 
 
 Dimly behold the glories that surround 
 
 Him, whose almighty power and sovereign will 
 
 Decreed as part of His creative work 
 
 Their individual, actual entity 
 
 Decreed that they should sojourn for a while 
 
 As one among vast millions, who must learn 
 
 By weary wandering, the worth of rest ; 
 
 By frequent strife, the priceless good of peace ; 
 
 By doeful doubt and sad uncertainity. 
 
 The blessedness of all release therefrom ; 
 
 By pain, how sweet exemption from pain is ; 
 
 By loss, the exultant and abiding joy 
 
 Possession full and permanent create; 
 
 Learn by long dreading of that change called death, 
 
 The worth of life, of blest, immortal life ; 
 
 Learn hourly, daily, o'er and o'er again, 
 
 The real, intrinsic worth of everything, 
 
 Lovely or precious or desirable, 
 
174 THE VENTURE, 
 
 To make existence altogether blest, 
 And most supremely blest forevermore. 
 
 A STORY AND A SERMON. 
 
 " Be employed/' remarked the parson. 
 
 Then he bowed and went away, 
 Leaving me alone to wonder 
 
 How he chanced the words to say. 
 For I was no idle dreamer, 
 
 Well I knew it, so did he. 
 And I wondered much and questioned 
 
 Why he spake those words to me, 
 
 I was sick, too sick for working. 
 
 And my spirit was so sad 
 That the comforts round me lying 
 
 Wholly failed to make me glad. 
 Life appeared a weary struggle. 
 
 Costing more than it was worth. 
 And the hour of death seemed sweeter 
 
 Thau the moment of my birth. 
 
 But all this I had not told him. 
 
 Our remarks were commonplace. 
 If he knew I was discouraged. 
 
THE UENTURE. 175 
 
 It was only hj my face. 
 So I wondered and I questioned 
 
 Whether I should praise or blame 
 One who thus commended labor 
 
 For a sick and wearied frame. 
 
 Yet, because I knew he seldom 
 
 Spoke, except with kind. intent, 
 And that though he uttered little, 
 
 Very often much was meant. 
 I was certain that a sermon 
 
 Or a lecture was annexed. 
 For my grave consideration 
 
 To his briefly uttered text. 
 
 He had told a little story 
 
 Of a man infirm and blind, 
 Who while languishing in prison, 
 
 Fearing he might lose his mind. 
 Or in plainer, common parlance. 
 
 Would "go crazy,^^ now and then 
 Spent his time in quickly dropping 
 
 Pins, to pick them up again. 
 
 I had laughed about the story, 
 
 I had said, " The man was wase, 
 A philosopher, a genius. 
 
no THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 Worthy of applaud and prize." 
 But although our ad mi ration 
 
 Of an action may be great, 
 We may have no inclination 
 
 JSTor desire to imitate. 
 
 Dropping pins was not my fancy, 
 
 And I was so very tired 
 That I felt to active labor 
 
 I could not be forced nor hired, 
 So I said, "^Tis surely giving 
 
 Amiability a test 
 Thus to talk about employment 
 
 To a person seeking rest." 
 
 Then I pressed upon the pillow 
 
 Closer still my aching head. 
 But my mind kept on repeating 
 
 What he had so briefly said. 
 And while thinking and while trying 
 
 What might be implied, to find 
 Pleasant thoughts and good suggestions 
 
 Flashed like sunbeams through my mind. 
 
 And my spirit rose in triumph. 
 From its night of grief and pain, 
 
THE VENTURE. . 177 
 
 Saying, ^^Tho' too sick to labor, 
 
 I will not exist in vain. 
 And the parson's brief injunctk»n, 
 
 " Be employed,'' shall be a text * 
 From which I will make a sermon 
 
 For the suffering and perplexed." 
 
 First, it is quite clear that pastime 
 
 Should not be our only aim, 
 Long as every soul around us 
 
 Has upon our care a claim, 
 And although we can not labor. 
 
 We can speak iii cheerful tones, 
 We can keep from endless murmurs, 
 
 And unnecessary moans. 
 
 Secondly, 'tis always wiser 
 
 To be hopeful, cheerful, kind. 
 Than to let our cares and troubles 
 
 Rule like tyrants o'er the mind. 
 For tho' hard may be our pathway. 
 
 And the Avork we have to do. 
 Still, the bright side is the right side, 
 
 And the hind way is the true. 
 
 Thirdly, to us all are given 
 Talents, either one or ten. 
 
178 THE UENTURE. 
 
 And we all can do a little 
 
 For our suffering fellow- men. 
 
 Tho' we can not rule the nation, 
 We at least the laws can keep, 
 
 We can give a cup of water, 
 Or can hush a child to sleep. 
 
 Fourthly, life is given for action, 
 
 And the world is very wide, 
 Fields all white, all ripe for harvest, 
 
 Wait us upon every side. 
 If we have a willing spirit, 
 
 We can find enough to do, 
 And at last can show the Master 
 
 Precious sheaves, not small nor few. 
 
 Fifthly, it is very certain 
 
 That we never need despair, 
 Long as God from Heaven is watching 
 
 O'er the world with Father care. 
 And while He to wild ambition 
 
 Gives a check, or says, ^^Be still," 
 AV^e should rest without complaining. 
 
 Meekly bowing to His will. 
 
 Finally, 'tis plain that labor, 
 Which so many deem a curse, 
 
THE I/ENTURE. ITO 
 
 Brought on us by Eve aud Adam, 
 
 Is entirely the reverse, 
 And ^tis just as plain existence 
 
 Will far better be enjoyed 
 If we make our daily motto, 
 ^' Work for others, be employed." 
 
 WOMAjS'S mission and WOMAN'S WORK. 
 
 Her mission, to make homes and resting places 
 
 Edens on earth, 
 Where men may rest from toil and prove her graces, 
 
 Her precious worth. 
 
 Her mission, to see other lives out-growing 
 
 From her frail frame ; 
 Her work, to note all grief, all wayward-going. 
 
 And shield from blame. 
 
 Her mission, to rebuke by virtuous life 
 
 Vileness and sin ; 
 Her work, to aid the erring in their strife 
 
 Lost strength to win. 
 
 Her mission, to be strong and brave and wise, 
 When man is weak; 
 
180 THE FENTURE, 
 
 Her workj with love-light sparkling in her eyes, 
 Right words to speak. 
 
 Her mission, to be patient, faithful, true, 
 
 Though man be false ; 
 Her work, to do all that God bids her do, 
 
 Though flesh revolts, 
 
 Her mission, that of a bright star, to lead 
 
 To Heaven and God; 
 Her work to soothe when man m ust smart and bleed 
 
 Beneath the rod. 
 
 Her mission, to speak words of hope and cheer 
 
 In man's sad hours; 
 Her work, to strew his path, when dark or drear, 
 
 With love's sweet flowers, 
 
 Her mission, in prosperity's bright day, 
 
 Praises to sing; 
 Her work, in adverse times, for grace to pray, 
 
 And aid to bring. 
 
 Her mission, in man's thoughtless, reckless hours, 
 
 To warn and grieve ; 
 Her work, when pain and death reveal their powers, 
 
 To seek reprieve. 
 
THE UENTURE. 181 
 
 Her mission, man's true helper every hour 
 
 Of life to be, 
 His guardian angel, from the tempter's power, 
 
 Leading him free. 
 
 Her mission, with true woman tact and skill. 
 
 Life's journey through, 
 A thousand things which man nor can nor will, 
 
 Daily to do. 
 
 Her mission, in a way heroic, wise, 
 
 Sublime, divine. 
 To keep herself a constant sacrifice 
 
 On duty's shrine. 
 
 Her icorh, to censure and reprove and chide, 
 
 Condemn, command. 
 To teach, to lead, counsel, persuade, guard, guide, 
 
 ^Nourish, defend. 
 
 Her work, to waken tenderness and love. 
 
 And sweet-v^oiced hope, 
 And joy in other lives till joys above 
 
 To her shall ope. 
 
18-2 THE I/ENTURB, 
 
 THE MENAGERIE. 
 
 The fool may speak the wicked thought, 
 
 " There is no God/^ but Ave who stand 
 Before these living trophies^ brought 
 
 From many a clime and many a land. 
 Dare not repeat the foolish words, 
 
 For ceaselessly from all the throng 
 Of parti-colored beasts and birds, 
 
 There comes a refutation strong. 
 
 The lion bold, the timid hare, 
 
 The tiger fierce, the gentle dove. 
 Each in emphatic ways declare 
 
 What wicked men would fain disprove: 
 Each joins to say there is a power 
 
 Controlling nature ever}^where, 
 And guarding every day and hour 
 
 Each living thing with tender care. 
 
 And 7nan, at once creation's crown, 
 Its lord and master, proudly stands, 
 
 Or meekly, calmly sitting down, 
 
 Ijifts up to Heaven his powerful hands, 
 
 And echoes in triumphant tones 
 The wise assertion of a God, 
 
THE VENTURE, 183 
 
 Who counts the stars, makes seas and zones, 
 Bestows the crown or wields .the rod. 
 
 And ivoman, yet more large or small. 
 
 Than nature meant that she should be, 
 Her homeward hurrying sisters call, 
 
 And bids them pause awhile and see 
 How nature can reverse her laws, 
 
 Compress, or at her will expand, 
 And preach a God, a great First Cause, 
 
 In every age and every land. 
 
 WONDERINGS. 
 
 A century from now 
 Where and what will we be? 
 
 A century from now 
 What changes, shall we see? 
 
 Will Time move on the same 
 Exact, in varying round? 
 
 Men question whence they came, 
 And whither they are bound ? 
 
 A century from now 
 Whose lips will speak our name? 
 
 Whose heart exult that we 
 To earth as dwellers came? 
 
^^^ THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 If dead, who seek our tomb 
 To drop affection's tear, 
 
 Or sit in grief and gloom 
 Because we are not here? 
 
 A century from now 
 We w^ill be greatly changed, 
 
 On each surviving brow 
 Deep furrows will be ranged. 
 
 Time Avill move on the same, 
 The sun will rise and set. 
 
 And others praise and blame. 
 Remember and forget. 
 
 CITY TREES 
 
 I love them, I love them, the trees of the city. 
 Which beautify by-streets, and dot even marts, 
 
 Seeming imbued with a generous pity 
 For the people who labor with nature-starved hearts, 
 
 Who wearily long for the cool, shady forests, 
 The orchards, the gardens, where gay hours were spent, 
 
 F(»r the fields and the meadows, the glades and the 
 wild woods, 
 Which they roamed and explored with delighted (con- 
 tent. 
 
THE VENTURE. 185 
 
 I love them, I love them, the trees of the city, 
 In spring-time and summer and autumn's ripe hours, 
 
 In winter, when no trace of verdure remaineth, 
 To show the effects of warm sunbeams and showers. 
 
 To tell of a God who loves all he createth. 
 Who keeps in His storehouse of merciful care, 
 
 For each proof of his skill and beneficent wisdom 
 Sustenance ample, enough and to spare. 
 
 I love them, I love them, the trees of the city. 
 That soften the hard lines of science and art ; 
 
 That shade with an angel-like patience and pity 
 The toil-worn, the tempted, the broken in heart; 
 
 That speak to the old of the past and its lessons. 
 
 That sing to the young of the truths they must learn. 
 
 That say to each being who hears or beholds them 
 *' Of dust thou art made and to dust must return." 
 
 Right clearly I love them, and think a rich blessing 
 Is due those who plant them, in beauty to thrive, 
 
 To make for the song-birds safe places for nesting 
 Orchestras wherefrom they may often revive 
 
 In our minds, faith in God as our Maker, our Father, 
 Trust in Him as our guide and unchangeable friend, 
 
 Who, tho' he may lead us through trial and trouble. 
 In peace will at last b*d our wanderings end. 
 
186 THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 LABOR AKD CAPITAL. 
 
 Said Labor to Capital, "You have money, 
 Money that wonderful things can do, 
 
 While I have muscles, brain and muscles, 
 In measure to profit both me and you. 
 
 " If you care to pay a certain stipend, 
 A lawful price for a given while, 
 I will labor for you. Is it a bargain? 
 Shall I take for ^yes' your quiet smile?" 
 
 Capital answered, proudly, coldly. 
 In tones of a master, not a friend : 
 " If to employ you, try your labor, 
 I for a season do condescend. 
 
 a 
 
 Know and remember, each hour remembor. 
 Your strength and time are mine, all mine, 
 
 From the earliest dawn of every morning, 
 Till the orbs of evening begin to shine." 
 
 /^But you forget, forget," said Labor, 
 " I am human as well as you, 
 Requiring rest and recreation 
 
 To make and keep me to nature true." 
 
THE UENTURE, 187 
 
 Capital sneered, ^'To me that's nothing, 
 All that I want is your faithful toil, 
 
 You are a fighter with fate, my business 
 Is the adding of golden spoil to spoil." 
 
 As plead fond parents with their children 
 Who err; as pleadeth man and wife. 
 
 As plead the oppressed for right and justice, 
 As plead the doomed to die, for life, 
 
 So Labor pleaded for the people. 
 
 The fragile women, stalwart men, 
 God's honorable, toil-burdened children, 
 
 Who briefly rest, then toil again. 
 
 But Capital proudly scorned all pleadings. 
 Till growing desperate. Labor cried : 
 "You may laugh and sneer, but the fact is patent, 
 Eight hours is a figure on your side. 
 
 " Yes, a figure, sir, I might say fortune. 
 For o'er worked muscles can never do 
 Work that will equal the work accomplished 
 By workers whose laboring hours are few. 
 
 " Search the world throuo[:h, and those who labor 
 
 o"? 
 
 Without cessation, for thirteen hours, 
 
188 THE UENTURE, 
 
 Tremble and falter, and ovei' and over 
 Stamp in their work ^exhausted powers/ 
 
 " While those who toil for a shorter season, 
 Prove by their zest and efficient skill 
 That they who demand the longest labor 
 For the poorest work pay the heaviest bill. 
 
 " Humph/' said Capital, " You are a striker, 
 And that last stroke, sir, is pretty strong, 
 I'll think about it, and time will settle 
 Whether your view^s or mine are wrong.'^ 
 
 7? 
 
 NATAL BELLS. 
 
 Our natal bells, how oft they tell 
 
 How rapidly the seasons roll. 
 
 How swiftly grows our being's scroll. 
 
 The hel]3less babe is soon the child. 
 The sanguine youth, with fancies wild. 
 The adult, more moderate, calm and mild. 
 
 Rashly, or with a cautious art. 
 With honest or deceitful heart. 
 We act in Life's long play our part. 
 
THE UENTURE. 189 
 
 Tho' both our creed and course be wrong, 
 Heedless alike of sigh or song, 
 Time moves us rapidly along. 
 
 Past many a verdant isle, where we 
 Fancy to dwell would surely be 
 Completeness of felicity. 
 
 Past icebergs of sore loss and grief. 
 Past many a troublous rock and reef. 
 He speeds us like a floating leaf. 
 
 Or like a foam-capped ocean-wave, 
 Designed some far-oif shore to lave, 
 Rolls us from cradle- bed to ffrave. 
 
 And fears and hopes by turns prevail. 
 While eyes grow dim and cheeks grow pale. 
 And steps more slow, and spirits fail. 
 
 Yet how we live, and how we grow. 
 And how our lives in currents flow. 
 We for ourselves alone can know. 
 
 For life and growth, tho' common things, 
 As free to subjects as to kings. 
 Move evermore with noiseless wings. 
 
190 THE UENTURE, 
 
 And all we of their mystery koow. 
 Is that we are, and that we grow, 
 And must forever onward go. 
 
 And while we strive for bread and gold. 
 Our natal bellsr are promptly tolled, 
 And we are classed among the old. 
 
 Thus onward seasons swiftly roll, 
 Longer our birth-bells yearly toll, 
 And larger grows lifers mystic scroll. 
 
 Until a time no human ken 
 
 Unerringly can name, and then, 
 
 We change, and from the haunts of men 
 
 Depart to spiritual spheres, 
 
 To learn through all succeeding years 
 
 The " why" of earthly toils and tears. 
 
 Our natal bells are like a voice 
 Speaking in words of wisdom choice, 
 Bidding us all in life rejcdce. 
 
 Bidding us everywhere we go 
 Mitigate others' weight of Avoe, 
 And seeds of kindness freely sow. 
 
THE UENTURE. It) I 
 
 Fully assured that Time will bring 
 For each good deed some precious thing 
 To swell Right's final harvesting. 
 
 A BIT OF BLANK VERSE. 
 
 As earth is made of atoms, so this thing 
 This essence, this warm state which we call life, 
 Is made of little things, short breaths and sighs. 
 Short steps, brief glances, smiles and tears and 
 Succeeding one another measuredly, [w^ords. 
 
 Quick heart-throbs and slow pulse-beats, proving 
 Is strong or feeble, as the red blood flows [forc^ 
 With even or uneven measurings. 
 
 ' The form is not the measure of the being, 
 Earth's circuit round. It is the mind, the heart, 
 The soul, the immortal soul, that ever makes 
 The full, ripe nature; form, itself, may be 
 Of Liliputian mold, or grown so gross 
 As to oifend all those who love to gaze 
 On symmetry and beauty, yet the soul 
 Enshrined therein, may be as large, or fair 
 Or grandly perfect as e'er glorified 
 A human frame of the most faultless mould. 
 
192 THE UENTURE. 
 
 Pow'rs may be fettered, cramped or crippled sore, 
 Yet be quite perfect in their innate strength, 
 Their natural scope and capability 
 And all degrees or points essential to 
 Efficient labor and the winning of 
 Unstinted approbation and reward. 
 Or we, perchance, may be compelled to dwell 
 In lonely, uncongenial social folds, 
 In dreary nooks and corners all the while 
 Our aspiration reaches highest Heaven, 
 And our ambition compasses the world. 
 
 We are not now what we were yesterday. 
 We do not think like thoughts or speak like words. 
 Nor are w^e what we will be, every hour. 
 We change, we grow, and, if we will it, may 
 Grow better, upward, outward, every day. 
 Until we sleep, to wake from Time's short night 
 To an eternal day of blessedness. 
 Whence looking back across the gulf of space. 
 Which separates this world from the Above, 
 Life, which we now consider wonderful. 
 Will seem more wonderful, more precious still. 
 And we shall know ourselves and see how small. 
 How impotent we are, beside thaf God [Cause, 
 Who rules supreme, earth's glorious Great First 
 
THE L'ENTURE. 1-98 
 
 I^ovd of the Universe, First King of Heaven, 
 And our Creator, blessed evermore. 
 
 THE COPY. 
 
 "Better to live well than to live h»ng," 
 
 The school-boy wrote the copy o'er and o'er, 
 
 With graceful flourishes and careless scrawls. 
 He wrote as many a boy had done before, 
 
 And when his sheet was full he laid it by, 
 Thinking, '^ Again that copy I will try." 
 
 'Tis said, " The days of prophecy are past," 
 And they may be; but often as I look 
 
 Upon the page his pen had marked so fast, 
 
 And read those words which so his fancy took, 
 
 I doubt the statement, and it seems to me 
 
 That school-boy wrote his own life's prophecy. 
 
 For scarcely had he thought, ^^ Those words are true, 
 I'll heed their lesson, and my life shall be 
 
 Well spent, so well my teacher will not rue 
 The hour he wrote this copy down for me," 
 
 Ere the Death Angel touched him, and he lay 
 With folded hands, cold as a lump of clay. 
 
 And I, who own that blotted paper now. 
 And stand a weeper at his early grave. 
 
194 THE UENTURE, 
 
 Repeat his copy, and remember how 
 
 With generous, lavish wav he daily gave 
 
 Friendship and love and trust to all who came 
 Anear him holding;: out a hand or claim. 
 
 And while I look and weep and ponder well, 
 I feel as tho' an angel spoke to me, 
 
 Bidding me tarry not, but haste to tell 
 All that upon the blotted page I see. 
 
 Say to the young in story and in song: 
 " ^ Tis better to live well than to live longj^ 
 
 O, yonth, so hopeful and so brave of heart ! 
 
 To whom this life seems all, yes, all you need, 
 O, maiden ! whose pure lips so often part 
 
 With merry laughter, giving little heed 
 To future years, but fancying it were well 
 
 Here in this old queer world alway to dwell. 
 
 Pause, listen, for this life is not the whole 
 Of our existence, tho' our joy be great 
 
 In its possession, evermore the soul. 
 
 Our nobler part, sighs for a higher state. 
 
 Or realm, or sphere, where free from every woe 
 It can perpetually expand and grow. 
 
 All this I read upon the scribbled page. 
 And at the angel's bidding tell to you. 
 
THE I/ENTURE. 195 
 
 For I have pledged my every power to wage 
 War against sin, and for the good and true 
 
 To plead and toil, but if my words you scout, 
 And proudly ask for more to clear your doubt, 
 
 Go ask all those who sold their hopes of Heaven 
 For short-lived pleasure or a little gold. 
 
 If it has paid, and to you will be given 
 
 When they speak true, in accents firm and bold, 
 *' Nay, it has not, we did a mighty wrong, 
 
 "' TTs better to live ivell than to live long J' 
 
 And from the souls writhing in full despair, 
 And from the spirits blest forevermore. 
 
 From all the evil and the good, like prayer 
 Repeated daily, hourly, o'er and o'er. 
 
 Sounds on the air in accents clear and strong: 
 "'Tis better to live well than to live long J' 
 
 THE OXE NAME. 
 
 There is one name that I would trace 
 In richest gold and rarest gems. 
 
 Round which in forms of truest grace 
 
 Would wreathe earth's grandest diadems; 
 
 One name, to which in humble awe 
 And grateful homage I would bow, 
 
186 . THE UENTURE, 
 
 Offering as due sacrifice, 
 
 Adoring lovers most solemn vow; 
 
 One name, to winch my soul would raise 
 The incense of perpetual praise. 
 
 There is one name that I would speak 
 
 With reverent! il, tender tone; 
 One name that I would ever seek, 
 
 In all its richness to make kno^vn ; 
 One name to which I long to see 
 
 Earth^s every dweller reverent kneel ; 
 One name^ whose praise I fain would hear 
 
 Rise in one full, triumphant peal ; 
 One name, than all sweet names more sweet. 
 
 Whose praises angels oft repeat. 
 
 That name is Jesus I Hear, my soul. 
 
 With reverent awe, that sacred name^ 
 To make thee of life's sickness whole, 
 
 Jesus to earth once kindly came ; 
 For thee He lived a suffering life. 
 
 Of hatred, scorn, neglect and blame; 
 For thee He bore the tempter's strife, 
 
 For thee the keenest pain and shame; 
 For thee, for all, the Saviour died. 
 
 The Son of God was crucified. 
 
THE I/ENTURE. 197 
 
 Blest name, the pledge of love untold, 
 
 Of pardon, peace and purity, 
 The only title we can hold 
 
 Or plead as soul security. 
 Rest for the weary, joy for those 
 
 With grief or weariness oppressed, 
 Hope's anchor, haven of repose. 
 
 Through it life's ills are all redressed. 
 Through it our needs are all supplied. 
 
 And God is fully satisfied. 
 
 Jesus ! let those who dare deride. 
 
 Let those who will, scoff and reject, 
 My soul in Thee will still confide. 
 
 Shall still believe Thou wilt protect. 
 Still wilt I call thee Son of God, 
 
 Eedeemer, Intercessor, Friend, 
 Still seek for pardon through Thy blood, 
 
 My hope's beginning and its end, 
 And if I perish, it shall be 
 
 Trusting, Lord, Jesus Christ, in Thee. 
 
198 THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 A PROTEST. 
 
 After reading the reroark : ""It is reported that is dead." 
 
 Say not that he is dead, the man who dared 
 
 Bravely to speak the stern, indignant word 
 When, drunk with malice, jealous foes declared 
 
 Evil of one Avhom he had ever heard 
 Kindly commended as a faithful friend 
 
 Of the afflicted, the oppressed, the weak, 
 Of all Avho have an interest to defend 
 
 A wrong to right, a privilege to seek. 
 
 Say not that he is dead, for such as he 
 
 Are born immortal, and can never know 
 What death, real death is, they awhile may be 
 
 In that cold, quiet state, which here below 
 Heaven and its life of perfect blessedness, 
 
 AYe to designate from all other states 
 To which our human parts are more or less 
 
 Subject, call death, the key to spirit gates. 
 
 But that is all, his spirit ne'er can die, 
 It will but drop its tenement of clay. 
 
 Its perishable rind, and unseen fly 
 As flies the air, away, away, aw^ay. 
 
 Upward and higher, till at length it gains 
 
THE I/ENTURE. 199 
 
 Heaven and the presence of its maker, God, 
 There to be free from all that tempts or pains 
 Man, or brings on him the chastening rod. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 When hopes fondly cherished are blighted or flown, 
 And we among strangers are toiling alone. 
 
 Oft thinking witii sorrow or yearning regret 
 Of C'ld times, of past scenes, or of people we met, 
 
 Loved, trusted, and think till creation shall end 
 Will prove themselves Avorthy the sacred name, friend ; 
 
 Or of others who taught us the lesson anew — 
 The fickle are legion, the steadfast are few, 
 
 Be the time dawn or mid-day or twilight's blest hour 
 When thus we are swayed by thought's magical power. 
 
 When thus we review, retrospect and look o'er, 
 Scenes, faces and forms we shall never see more. 
 
 How cheering the message from one who is true, 
 ^^You are not forgotten; we oft think of you." 
 
 "You are not forgotten," there's manna and balm. 
 Wine, oil, fragrant incense, gay song and grave psalm 
 
 In this precious assurance, this proof that old friends 
 Are faithlul, whatever occurs or portends. 
 
 And thinking it over, the tried heart grows strong 
 
200 THE UENTURE. 
 
 To bear the neglect of the mer(;iless throng, 
 
 Grows strong to endure, struggle, strive and prevail, 
 Until duty is done, or until powers wholly fail, 
 
 Oh, Friendship, true Friendship ! Timers bruises and 
 stings 
 Lose much of their poignance wherever thy wings 
 
 Are spread, or thou standest, a sheltering rock 
 To break the rough force of adversity's shock, 
 
 As long as the ages are circling round 
 Thy praise will be sung with joy high and profound. 
 
 THE VALUE OF A SOUL. 
 
 Friend, wouldst thou know the value of a soul? 
 
 Go, count the stars, and give their number true; 
 
 Weigh the whole world, then write its ]3erfect ^veight; 
 
 Value earth's every treasure at its worth. 
 
 Then add together number, weight and sum 
 
 And multiply their product by itself, 
 
 Time and again, until their figures reach 
 
 High as man's highest power can compute. 
 
 Then lay th^ whole within some balance true, 
 
 And in another I will lay a soul, 
 
 One single heaven-born soul, and you shall see 
 
 That as a mountain towers above a vale, 
 
 As grains of dust appear by tons of gold. 
 
THE J7ENTURE. 201 
 
 So doth a single soul excel in worth 
 All things this side of Heaven. 
 
 A PEOOF OF IMMORTALITY. 
 
 Suggested by reading the Grecian tradition of Ion and Clemantha. 
 
 ^' Shall we meet again, Clemantha? 
 
 You this question ask of me, 
 And I of myself oft ask it, 
 
 With intensest agony, 
 For tho^ sweet thus for my country 
 
 A sacrifice to be, 
 It is hard, Oh, hard, Clemantha, 
 
 Thus to go away from thee. 
 
 "Shall we meet again, Clemantha? 
 
 I have asked it of the hills, 
 I have asked it of the valleys. 
 
 Through which flow the gleesome rills; 
 Of the trees, and of each insect 
 
 That Avith life doth throb and hum. 
 Of the stars that shine in Heaven, 
 
 But they all alike were dumb. 
 
 "Shall we meet again, Clemantha? 
 When I look into thy face, 
 
202 ^ THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 When I note thy loving features 
 
 Stamped with beauty and with grace, 
 
 When I see the love-light flashing 
 From thine eyes so brightly plain, 
 
 Then I feel we are immortal, 
 And that we shall meet again. 
 
 We shall meet again, Clemantha, 
 
 And our greeting shall be sweet. 
 For no fear of separation 
 
 Shall oppress us when we meet, 
 But our souls in sweet communion 
 
 Shall forever joy and grow. 
 And our bliss be all the greater 
 
 For our parting here below. 
 
 FINISHED WOKK. 
 
 We look at things comjjleted, and comment 
 
 Say perfect or defective, good or bad, 
 
 But think not of the long protracted toil, 
 
 The midnight vigils and the noontide sw^eats, 
 
 The circumstances totally adverse. 
 
 The trials, failures and discouragements, 
 
 The hours, the days, the aggregated "^veeks, 
 
 The months, perchance the years that were required 
 
THE UENTURE. 203 
 
 To make it the perfected whole we see; 
 
 Ignore the strong, enthusiastic zeal 
 
 The noble, heaven-born, dauntless energy 
 
 Which made mistakes their helpers and secured 
 
 From each provoking failure some success, 
 
 NTor once relinquished hope, but went on bravely, 
 
 Wresting some victory from each delay 
 
 Of plan or purpose, this stupendous price 
 
 The worker or producer had to pay, * 
 
 As license fee or legal premium, 
 
 Upon the work ere it could be completed. 
 
 We with injustice consumately utter 
 
 Omit as Aveightless, disconnected nothings. 
 
 Or Avaive as insigni^cant belongings, 
 
 And poising hastily the scales of judgment. 
 
 Our own weak, narroAV judgment, place therein 
 
 The finished work, and with immense complacence 
 
 Oar verdict give, sometimes of commendation, 
 
 And hasty praise, but often, full as often, 
 
 Of criticism, pitilessly cruel. 
 
 Or at the best uncharitably severe. 
 
 A SOLILOQUY. 
 
 No sound, no sound ! no loudly chiming bell, 
 Nor cannon's boom nor Avind's intensest roar, 
 
204 THE FENTURE, 
 
 ISTor thunder peal, nor ocean^s loudest swell, 
 
 Nor music, such as high-toned organs pour, 
 Or best strung harps yield from their secret store. 
 
 No sound, no sound ! I dwell alone, alone. 
 In silence, such as reigns in deepest grave, 
 
 Not even my own voice in sigh or moan 
 Starting a single ripple or sound wave 
 
 To flow until the shores of sense they lave. 
 
 No sound, no sound ! Lost, wholly, wholly lost, 
 Within myself to all by which the ear 
 
 Can to the mind reveal at trifling cost 
 
 Causes for hope and joy or doubt and fear, 
 
 Or warning give that danger*^"hovers near. 
 
 No sound, no sound ! Silence on every side, 
 A silence so profound no words can show 
 
 Its solemn perfectness, how like a tide 
 Of cold, dead waters, without ebb or flow 
 
 It holds, engulfs and wears by tortures slow. 
 
 No sound, no sound ! An alien, though at home, 
 
 An exile, even in my native land, 
 A prisoner, too, for though at will I roam. 
 
 Yet chained and manacled I oft must stand. 
 Unmoved, though sounds vibrate on every hand. 
 
THE UENTURE. 205 
 
 No sound, no sound! Yet often I have heard 
 Echoing through dear memory's sacred hall 
 
 The buzz of bees, the rare song ol a bird, 
 The melody of raindrops as they fall, 
 
 The wind's wild notes or Sabbath belFs sweet call. 
 
 And often, too, in memory I hear 
 
 My parents telling me, in songs, of Heaven, 
 
 That happy land, that wholly blissful sphere 
 Where hearts are ne'er by sin or trouble riven. 
 
 But all are blest, forgiving and forgiven. 
 
 No outward sound! Yet often I perceive 
 Kind angel voices speaking to my soul 
 
 Sweetly consoling changes to believe 
 
 That this life is a part, and not the whole 
 
 Of being, its beginning, not its goal. 
 
 They tell me, too, a day is drawing near 
 When all life's burdens I may lay aside. 
 
 And pass from earth into that blissful sphere 
 Lying beyond the intervening tide 
 
 Which we call death, and think so deep and wide. 
 
 No sound except the echoes of the past, 
 
 Seeming at times, in tc-nes now loud now low, 
 The voices of a cons'reg'ation vast. 
 
•206 . THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 Praising the God from whom all blessings flow. 
 Until ray heart with rapture is aglow. 
 
 No pleasant sound, yet I am well content 
 To wait until the Master deigns to sav 
 In tones by sympathy made eloquent, 
 
 "It is enough, lo! thy deliverance day 
 Is dawning, weary prisoner, come awav. 
 
 " Come, thou, who of my Father, God, art blessed. 
 
 Inherit now the kingdom that for you 
 , He hath prepared, the satisfying rest. 
 
 The peace that passeth not like morning dew, 
 The joy perpetnal yet forever new." 
 
 Sweet words, if they shall be the first to break 
 The silence of these swiftly- fleeting years. 
 
 What a grand recompense I Henceforth I make 
 Them the assuagers of my sighs and tears. 
 
 The kind rebukers of my doubts and fears. 
 
 WHAT I WOULD DO. . 
 
 I Jong to strike the poet's harp 
 Till it sends f?rth such melody 
 
 That every ear on which it falls 
 
 Shall thrill with wondering ecstacy. 
 
THE UENTURE. 207 
 
 Oh, I would waken notes sublime, 
 
 To cheer the hearts now sad with grief, 
 
 And lull them for a blissful time 
 Into a sense of sweet relief. 
 
 And I would sing again the song's 
 
 The angels sing on heavenly hills, 
 Which echo down to me prolongs 
 
 Until my soul with rapture thrills. 
 Sing them in notes so rarely sweet 
 
 That they would charm each toil-dulled ear, 
 And woo the pleasure-seeking crowd 
 
 To pause awhile and wondering hear. 
 
 And I would clothe in words the thoughts 
 
 The glorious thoughts that come to me, 
 Fresh from Truth's mine, golden ingots, 
 
 Gems of rare hue and purity, 
 Oh, I would write them dowm in words 
 
 Noted for strength and eloquence. 
 And send them broadcast o'er the world 
 
 Accomplishing Heaven's wise intents. 
 
 But I am weak, I can not strike 
 The poet's harp with skillful hand, 
 
 I can not wake rare melodies 
 
 To be re-echoed through the land; 
 
208 THE UENTURE. 
 
 Too puny is my strength to clothe 
 
 With master power the precious tiiouglits 
 
 That come and pass from out my mind, 
 Glittering like gems and rich ingots. 
 
 What then? Shall I ignobly wait 
 
 As those who gaze at vacancy, 
 Or murmur that my talents rate 
 
 Only plain mediocrity? 
 No, I will take the poet's harp 
 
 And strike at least its simple keys, 
 Trusting that in some stronger soul 
 
 They may rouse higher melodies. 
 
 And as my strength, my skill permits, 
 
 I'll clothe the thoughts that come to me. 
 And send them out, mere waifs and bits 
 
 To float o'er human life's great sea, 
 Praying that they may prove to some 
 
 Discouraged, grief-tossed voyager 
 A friendly spar to save it from 
 
 The yawning whirlpool of despair. 
 
 And having toiled with head and hand, 
 I will await with conscience clear 
 
 Till I before the Judge must stand 
 His verdict on my toil to hear. 
 
THE UENTURE. 209 
 
 Wait past all doubting, firmly sure 
 That justice will not make it naught, 
 
 Because that I, with motives pure 
 
 According to my strength have wrought. 
 
 WHEN I SHALL BE SATISFIED. 
 
 Though now I see no purpose in my life, 
 Nor understand the mystery of its plan, 
 Nor know how far beyond the present hour 
 
 Extends its sphere, 
 If when the span is measured, it appears 
 That God through my poor life was glorified, 
 Though now I see nothing but mystery, 
 
 I shall be satisfied. 
 
 Though now I bear pain's heavy, galling cross, 
 And sorrow wounds my heart to bitter tears, 
 And all the gold of joy is mixed with dross, 
 
 If it appears 
 When all is ended, that my heavy cross 
 Was but my crown, bent thus, its worth to hide, 
 And every trial was a well-set gem, 
 
 I shall be satisfied. 
 
 Though toil has brought me small material gain, 
 And every year is marked with heavy loss. 
 
210 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 And tho' my graves of disappointed hopes 
 
 Are green with moss, 
 If, when the Master comes to view my work, 
 And lay it in His balance to be tried, 
 I find that others were enriched thereby, 
 
 I shall be satisfied. 
 
 Tho' now my heart gives more than it receives. 
 And much that others value is denied 
 To me, from day to day, if Death reveals 
 
 What life doth hide. 
 And proves beyond all doubting that each wish 
 Each want of mind and heart here unsupplied 
 Purchased some pleasure for another life, 
 
 I shall be satisfied. 
 
 BRING FLOWERS. 
 
 " They speak of hope to the fainting heart, 
 With a bud of promise the}^ come and part, 
 
 They sleep in dust through the wiutr}- hours, 
 They break forth in glory — bring flowers, bright flowers." 
 
 — 3frs Hemans. 
 
 Bring flowers, fresh flowers, when the joyful sing, 
 At the birth and the solemn christening. 
 
 They are emblems true of our mortal state. 
 Of its end, its certain, avoidless fate. 
 
THE UENTURE. 211 
 
 Like them awhile shall the infant grow, 
 Like them at last in the dust lay low, 
 
 Then fail not, oh, fail not fresh flowers to bring 
 For the natal day and the christening. 
 
 Bring flowers for the bridal when hope tow'rs high, 
 
 i^nd love is beaming from lip and eye, 
 When fear and doubt and distrust are still, 
 
 And joy is toning each pulse's thrill. 
 When trust is with perfect trust repaid, 
 
 And a solemn, mutual compact made, 
 And life is sweet, Oh, then bring flowers. 
 
 To bless with their beauty the fleeting hours. 
 
 Bring flowers to speak of the love Divine, 
 
 That measures love's farthest boundary line. 
 That notes the fitness of each for each. 
 
 And hears the thought tho' unformed in speech. 
 Bring flowers to tell us that tho' decay 
 
 Our strength and vigor may steal away. 
 The love that is true shall never die. 
 
 But will add to the bliss of our home on hip^h. 
 
 'to' 
 
 Bring flowers for the coffin o'er which we weep 
 
 For the friend whom we vainly strove to keep 
 From the spoiler's hand and his chilling breath 
 
212 THE JIENTURE. 
 
 When he came to work that change called death, 
 To transplant the soul to ns so dear 
 
 To a richer soil and a higher sphere, 
 Bring flowers, they will speak of the spirit's bloom 
 
 While the flesh decays in the silent tomb. 
 
 Bring flowers, sweet flowers, when the trusting 
 heart 
 
 With its darling joys is forced to part. 
 When its budding hopes all droop and die, 
 
 And its idols in broken fragments lie, 
 When faith is wavering, courage fled. 
 
 And doubt's dark pall over life is spread. 
 Oh, then bring flowers, sweet flowers, to prove 
 
 Almighty power and unfailing love. 
 
 Bring flowers at morn, at noon, at night, 
 
 To cheer our souls while they charm our sight, 
 To rebuke our murmurs and hush our fears, 
 
 With their whispers of past and of coming years. 
 Bring flowers to tell us that grief shall cease. 
 
 And toil be crowned with a due increase, 
 In all life's stages and fleeting hours, 
 
 Bring flowers, bring beautiful, fragrant flowers. 
 
THE UENTURE, 213 
 
 A LITTLE WHILE. 
 
 A little while to walk life's rugged road, 
 A little while to bear its heavy load, 
 
 A little while to labor and to weep, 
 
 A little while earth's scattered grains to reap. 
 
 A little while, and then, life's toils all o'er, 
 Its trials past, its sorrows felt no more. 
 
 The soul safe in its many-mansioned home. 
 Shall be at rest, thence nevermore to roam. 
 
 A little while, help us, dear Father, God. 
 
 To bear with patience every cross and load, 
 Help us with faith to labor on to Thee, 
 
 And meekly wait until Thou set'st us free. 
 
 Free to behold Thee in Thy glorious home. 
 Free from Thy presence nevermore to roam. 
 
 Free to adore Thee, to bask in Thy smile. 
 Free evermore, not for a little while. 
 
 GOOD AXD BETTER. 
 
 To die, O, it were sweet! 
 To bid adieu to sorrow, loss and care. 
 
 To fold the weary hands, comjwse the feet, 
 
214 THE UENTURE. 
 
 And nevermore to breathe an anxious prayer ; 
 
 To say a few faint words of kind '^ good-night/' 
 To the few friends whom we consider true, 
 
 Then close the eyes to earth^s poor, fitful light^ 
 And open them on scenes sublimely new. 
 
 To live, O, it is grand ! 
 When disappointment, trouble, loss and pain 
 
 Have tracked us on and on, until we stand 
 Convinced that unsubstantial, poor and vain 
 
 Are the right names for much we mortals seek 
 And struggle for most pertinaciously, 
 
 Till God draws near, rebuking words to speak, 
 And take our idols one by one away. 
 
 To live, O, it is sweet! 
 Each day, each hour, we live to strive to be 
 
 A blessing to each soul we chance to meet 
 Lovingly helping it to feel and see 
 
 Life is worth living, is a precious boon, 
 A wholly precious boon, although the heart 
 
 Before we have attained our prime, our noon, 
 Has with its dearest hopes been forced to part. 
 
 To live, O, it is grand ! 
 To live not for one^s self and friends alone, 
 
 But for each troubled soul whose trembling hand 
 
THE VENTURE. 215 
 
 Is i^ised to Heaven, whose agonizing moan 
 
 Echoes through space, onward from sphere to 
 sphere, 
 
 Onward through each celestial clime and zone, 
 Until it reaches the all-pitying ear 
 
 Of Him who sits on Heaven's eternal throne. 
 
 To live, O, it is sweet ! 
 Self-will, self-love, self-righteousness and sin 
 
 Of every kind, to trample neath our feet, 
 And daily sanguine victories to win, 
 
 In heart, in mind, in body and in soul, 
 O'er eye and ear, o'er tongue and lip and hand. 
 
 O'er all that makes our individual whole, 
 O, thus to live is truly sweet and grand. 
 
 LINES FOR A YOUNG LADY'S ALBUM. 
 
 A moment is a little thing. 
 Made up of seconds small, 
 
 An hour, what is it? A short string 
 Of moments — that is all. 
 
 Days are but aggregated hours, 
 Weeks, only days combined; 
 
 Months are but weeks of sun and shower, 
 Named^ numbered and defined. 
 
216 THE UENTURE. 
 
 Days, weeks, months, years, which come 
 and go 
 
 With ceaseless, noiseless speed. 
 Leaving us pleasure, pain or woe. 
 
 Plenty, or pinching need. 
 
 Into vast ages, by the tide 
 
 Of time, with speed of thought. 
 
 Are added, weighed or multiplied. 
 And from them all are wrought 
 
 Eternity, that circle great. 
 
 Older than human ken ; 
 Life-time of God and seal of fate, 
 
 To angels and to men. 
 
 Determine then, Time's fragments small 
 
 So wisely to employ, 
 Eternity for one and all 
 
 Will bear a stamp of joy. 
 
 COUNSEL FOR THE TROUBLED. 
 
 What though friends to-day forsake thee, 
 
 Lov^e them still; 
 From thy valley kindly watch them 
 
 Climb life's hill. 
 
THE UENTURE. ■ 217 
 
 What though pain may torture keenly, 
 
 Patient be, 
 Keenest pain is soonest over, 
 
 Thou wilt see. 
 
 What though sorrow be thy birthright, 
 
 Smile and sing, 
 Roses have their thorns and honey 
 
 Has its sting. 
 
 What though disappointment track thee, 
 
 Never mind. 
 Read we upon all life's changes 
 
 God is kind. 
 
 Read we too, the blest assurance 
 
 " Fleeting last. 
 Pain and grief and all life's trials 
 Soon are past." 
 
 LIFE IS LIKE THE WEATHER. 
 
 Life, sweet friend, is like the weather. 
 Rough and pleasant, warm and cold, 
 
 Bright and dark with variations. 
 Wonderful and manifold. 
 
218 THE IlENTURE. 
 
 Every heart must have its winter, 
 Every mind its autumn hours, 
 
 That more rich may be its harvests, 
 And more gay its time of flowers. 
 
 As when clouds have spent their fullness, 
 Nature looks more calmly sweet, 
 
 So our storms of pain and trouble 
 Leave us more in faith complete. 
 
 Heaven's attractions would be lessened 
 Had we less of trouble here, 
 
 We with earth would hh contented, 
 Wishing for no higher sphere. 
 
 And full many a heart now beating 
 
 With a sympathetic thrill 
 For the griefs and pains of others, 
 
 Would beat cold and selfish still. 
 
 Learn then thoroughly the lesson, 
 Precious as the finest gold, 
 
 Which the changing skies and seasons 
 So perpetually unfold. 
 
 Learn that all the days of trial 
 We are wont to call adverse, 
 
THE UENTURE. 219 
 
 Oftener far than we will credit, 
 Are entirely the reverse. 
 
 Bear then patiently each sorrow, 
 
 Pain or trouble, care or loss, 
 Which our Father adds or mingles 
 
 To your cup or to your cross. 
 
 And as surely as the winter 
 . Is succeeded by the spring. 
 Or the genial warmth of summer 
 Genial autumn harvests bring. 
 
 Up, in bountiful perfection. 
 
 In your heart will quickly grow 
 
 Tender sympathy for others 
 In their times of bitter woe. 
 
 Giving that in liberal measure 
 
 To each needy one you meet, 
 You will find, whatever your station, 
 
 Life is pleasant, even sweet. 
 
 Heed, therefore, eac;h truth, each lesson 
 Taught us by the changing skies, 
 
 And in every dismal prospect 
 See some blessing in disguise. 
 
220 THE UENTURE, 
 
 :SO ADVERSE CHANGE BEYOND THE 
 
 TOMB. 
 
 The moss grows o'er the brick, 
 
 The rust conceals the wire, 
 And time and change conflict 
 
 With purpose and desire; 
 Trouble pursues our steps, 
 
 And pain afflicts us sore, 
 And the bright star of youth , 
 
 Sets low, to rise no more. 
 
 But tho' the moss and rust 
 
 Grow fast and gather thick, 
 And time and cruel change 
 
 With our desires conflict, 
 The soul, beyond the tomb, 
 
 Shall live when Time is o'er. 
 Most gloriously to bk'om, 
 
 Vernal forevermore. 
 
 For trouble, loss and grief 
 
 Belong alone to earth, 
 They can not reach us when 
 
 We pass our spirit's birth ; 
 And every hope that fades 
 
THE UENTURE. 221 
 
 And every joy that dies 
 Will help to make more blest 
 Our home beyond the skies. 
 
 TRUE REST. 
 
 Rest is not turning 
 Froni sorrow or care, 
 
 Selfishly spurning 
 All burdens to bear. 
 
 Rest is not waiting 
 For fortune to smile, 
 
 Gloomily prating 
 Of trouble the while. 
 
 Rest is not sitting 
 With hands idly clasped, 
 
 Watching time flitting 
 Away to the past. 
 
 'Tis earnestly aiming 
 Each duty to do. 
 
 For failures ne'er framing 
 Ex(!uses untrue. 
 
 'Tis meekly receiving 
 What God deemeth best, 
 
222 THE I/ENTURE, 
 
 Obeying, believing, 
 This, this is trice rest. 
 
 THANKSGIVING LINES. 
 
 For life, wonderful mystery 
 That animates and moves our frames. 
 
 That makes us objects of Thy love, 
 And presses on that love large claims, 
 
 We thank Thee, C), Thou source of life, 
 For the rich boon thy hand has given. 
 
 For mortal life, in which to grow 
 Meet for the higher life of Heaven. 
 
 For light, that mystery great as life, 
 That confluence of etheral streams, 
 
 That flows around us, day and night. 
 Through sun or moon or stars mild beams, 
 
 We offer thanks and praise to Thee, 
 Tiiou great primeval source of light, 
 
 W^hose bright effulgence shall outshine 
 All glories which now greet our sight. 
 
 For friends, those who in weal or woe 
 Love, trust us, and believe us true, 
 
 Who bid us hope when grief is sent 
 Our hearts to chasten and subdue. 
 
THE VENTURE. 223 
 
 To Thee, man's first aud truest friend, 
 We offer n(»w our thanks, and pray 
 
 Thou wilt, where'er our steps may tend, 
 Still be our friend and guide alway. 
 
 For every joy that makes life sweet, 
 Or hope that mitigates our woe, 
 
 For all the varied good which Thou 
 Hast deigned upon us to bestow, 
 
 We thank Thee, Father, just and wise. 
 And while we thank Thee, humbly pray, 
 
 Grant us Thy mercy, love and care 
 Long as we tread life's changeful wav. 
 
 THE BIBLE. 
 
 Thou wouldst be wise, wisdom in it is found. 
 
 Wisdom that will endure eternally. 
 Thou wouldst have wealth, treasures therein abound, 
 
 Treasures that will enrich supernally. 
 
 Thou seekest purity, here is large store. 
 Keep God's c(»mmands and purity is thine. 
 
 Beyond this he requires of us no more, 
 
 Love and obedience are His boundary line. 
 
 Thou longest oftentimes for peace and rest. 
 It tells of peace passing all human thought. 
 
224 THE IlENTURE. 
 
 Of rest in its vast perfectness so blest 
 
 It with the blood of God's dear Son was bought. 
 
 And if for friendship thou dost sadly sigh 
 
 It teaches of a friend ready to be 
 Close, close unto thy soul forever nigh, 
 
 And truer than thy truest self to thee. 
 
 Here too, is comfort for the night of grief, 
 And counsel for the days of joy and pride, 
 
 Chiding for the dark hours of unbelief. 
 
 When hopes too fondly nursed have drooped and 
 died. 
 
 Wisdom and wealth and purity and peace, 
 
 Rest, friendship, counsel, all thy soul requires, 
 
 Worth to enhance or blessedness increase. 
 
 Is here contained, despite both floods and fires. 
 
 WHERE IS CLIFFIE? 
 
 "Where is Cliflie? Where is Cliffier 
 
 Many, many times a day 
 In a maze of anxious wonder. 
 
 Questions lonely little May. 
 "I have called him, I have sought him. 
 
 But my call and search were vain. 
 
THE UENWRE. ■ 225 
 
 Papa, Mammaj tell. Oh, tell me 
 When will Cliffie come again? 
 
 '* Where is Cliffie ? Aunty tell me, 
 
 Wiiy did he not come with you? 
 Has he h»st his cap or mittens? 
 
 Lost his ball or trumpet new? 
 Would not uncle help him find it. 
 
 Or has he forgot the way 
 That he does not heed my calling. 
 
 Does not come with me to plav? 
 
 '* Every day we played together, 
 'And were happy as each bird 
 That in spring or summer weather 
 
 Makes its grateful gladness heard. 
 In sweet warblings, soft and tender, 
 
 Gay, exultant, shrill and clear. 
 Heard till with delight and wonder 
 Thrills each listening human ear." 
 
 Pityingly we note her questions. 
 
 Kindly tell her not to cry, 
 Gently wipe each pearl-like tear-drop 
 
 From each soulful little eye. 
 But the while our hearts are bleeding, 
 
 And our tears are falling fast, 
 
220 THE I/ENTURE. 
 
 And we ask why buds of promise 
 Prematurely droop and blast. 
 
 Ask with anxious, grieving wonder 
 
 Why so much of loss and woe 
 Is the portion of God's people 
 
 While they tarry here below ; 
 Why their treasures must be hidden 
 
 From their doting eyes away, 
 Why for hours of transient pleasure 
 
 They with years of pain must pay. 
 
 Why the child to us as precious » 
 
 As our own life thus should go 
 From us ere our love's completeness 
 
 We could in full measure show; 
 Go to leave us far more lonely 
 
 Than the bird with rifled nest, 
 Than the sweet girl waiting vainly 
 
 For her whilom frequent guest. 
 
 Why the sister 'he so bravely 
 Used to champion and defend. 
 
 Used to comfort when some trial 
 Rain-like made her tears descend, 
 
 Must with their wee playmate wonder 
 And so piteously cry, 
 
THE I/ENTURE. ■ 22 7 
 
 " Where is CHffie ? I want Cliffie/' 
 As the lonely hours go by. 
 
 Why instead of warrc arms twining 
 Round her neck, and kisses sweet 
 
 From the pure, soft lips wont often 
 " Don't cry, Bertha/' to repeat, 
 
 She can only have, when troubled. 
 The poor privilege to turn 
 
 And gaze on the pictured features 
 Of the boy for whom we yearn. 
 
 Yet the thought that he is happy, 
 
 And will be forever more 
 Safe from sin and every evil, 
 
 That makes up earth's woeful store. 
 Is a balm for all our heartache, 
 
 Is a comfort for our grief, 
 And faith whispers, "Time is fleeting, 
 
 Separation will be brief." 
 
 So we meekly plead, "Our Father, 
 
 Ever wise and just and kind, 
 Let our child, our absent darling. 
 
 Prove a golden tie to bind 
 Us to Thee and all things holy, 
 
 Till we too with Thee may dwell, 
 
228 THE UENTURE, 
 
 And in adoration lowly, 
 
 Sing, 'Thou doest all things well/^' 
 
 TO A ^^EW-BORN INFANT. 
 
 Welcome, helpless little stranger, 
 Welcome to our mundane sphere, 
 
 With its darkness and its danger, 
 With its light, its warmth, its cheer. 
 
 Welcome to the home death rendered 
 Strangely silent and forlorn. 
 
 While in chastened souls he gendered 
 Sympathy for all who mourn. 
 
 Welcome, fragile little darling. 
 To the hearts so sorely pained. 
 
 By one loss they scarce could notice 
 Blessings manifold remained. 
 
 Welcome to their hearts all lonely, 
 To that vacant crib and chair. 
 
 They have treasured, they have guarded 
 Witli devoted zeal and care. 
 
 Welcome to their mutual fondness, 
 Pride and fervent gratitude, 
 
THE UENTURE. 229 
 
 Fearing, hoping, watching, praying, 
 All we call s(»licitude. 
 
 Welcome to the wee girl, longing 
 
 For the elder brother, who 
 Was to her so fondly teuder. 
 
 Sympathizing, generous, true. 
 
 Welcome to her childish wonder 
 
 And dev^oted sister-love, 
 Which by gentle words and actions 
 
 She delightedly will prove. 
 
 Doubly Avelcome, and if heaven 
 
 Will permit thee, tarry long. 
 Adding to earth's store of blessing 
 
 And its upward-pressing throng. 
 
 TO MARY ON HER WEDDING DAY, 
 
 God bless thee on thy wedding day, 
 
 My cherished friend ; 
 And ever through life's devious way, 
 
 Thy steps attend. 
 
 May the deep love and trust which thrills 
 Thy spirit now, 
 
230 ■ THE UENTURE, 
 
 Till all thy being freely wills 
 A solemn vow, 
 
 Ne'er lose in fervor, but remain 
 
 Deep, warm and true, 
 Through calm and storm and joy and pain. 
 
 Life's journey through. 
 
 Others may offer gold and gifts, 
 
 Of costly price 
 To be unto thy wedded love 
 
 Preserving spice. 
 
 I only give a woman's love, 
 
 A woman's prayers, 
 A woman's pledge to sympathize 
 
 In all thy cares. 
 
 God bless thee I I have said the words 
 
 In days gone by. 
 And say them now with quivering lip, 
 
 And tear-moist eye. 
 
 Bless thee ! and help him who has won 
 
 Thy heart and hand. 
 And claims the right, close by thy side 
 
 Henceforth to stand. 
 
THE UENTURE. 231 
 
 To keep with true, religious care 
 
 The solemn vow 
 He makes to day to cherish thee, 
 
 Through weal and woe. 
 
 AFTER THE WEDDING. 
 
 It is ended, the solemn service, 
 AYhich required but a little time, 
 
 And the blushing maid of the mornincr 
 And the man in life's full prime 
 
 Are bound in so close a union 
 That division would be a crime. 
 
 It is over, the mirth and feasting, 
 
 The wishes for joy untold 
 Are said, and the gifts are given, 
 
 The land, the silver and gold, 
 And the guests to their homes have departed, 
 
 And the room is empty and cold. 
 
 And they, the man and the woman, 
 
 Who yesterday were twain, 
 Go joyfully forth together 
 
 To share life's pleasure or pain, 
 To bear an equal portion 
 
 In each other's loss and gain. 
 
282 THE IlENTURE, 
 
 Go, another home to fashion, 
 
 Another lamp to light, 
 Another doubled influence 
 
 To exert for wrong or right ; 
 Go, each to add their portion 
 
 To earth's misery or delight. 
 
 God bless the man and the woman. 
 And wherever their steps may tend 
 
 Go lovingly on before them, 
 
 As their Guide and unfailing Friend, 
 
 And keep their love undiminished, 
 Until death shall their union end. 
 

 
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