.^^ -■s^ .. h> ,■ V V IFt 111 lllilri, V, \ x ■\ \\ '"■^"^■^'^NVK^ Class __t^ii:t Book Jk^^ Copyright N" \ ^ A ^ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. #em0 of l^oesp Copyright, 1 90 4 PUBLISHKl) BY DELHAYE PUBLISHING CO. 1904 ; OC=/4- LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two Copies Received NOV 25 1^04 Copyrnfiii tnvy 9Ut. 2 5", f9c^ CLASS c^ XXC. NOI COPY 6. y N D E X Page Ackeriey, Mamie 401 Adams, Mrs. Henry . . . . 263 Allen, Mrs. H. A 71-46 Allen, Regina 158 Arnold, Chas. C... 267 Arnold, Mrs. Eloise D 185 Arnold, W. C 104-105 ATtman, Mrs. Addie A 400 Ashley, Miss Laura 190 Asman, Mary V 403 Atwood, Mrs. Lena E 168 Autenrieth, Mrs. Wm 873 Bacon, Mrs. J. H 147 Baker, Nellie 36 Barker, Robt. A 323-361 Barnette, Nellie J 227 Barrett, Franklin J. M 274 Bartels, Nora 216 Bartleson, Howard 193 Barton, Corrine 96-6 Bass, Mrs. Emmie Lucas . . . 165-320 Battle, William August 91 Baughman, H. C 284 Beecham, R. K 330 Beers, Miss Minnie T 192 Bennett, Julia Marie 364 Benson, Mrs. Lizzie E 188 Blackie, Charles 137 Blair, Carl '. 76 Blood, Geo. B 62 Boden, Florence E 301 Bowen, Edmund J . 102-324 Bowen, Simeon Spencer 272 Boyd, J. R 161 Brabson. Miss Nora 173-421 Breen, Mrs. Thomas H 41^ Bristol, Louise Armstrong. . 142-176 Brown, F. Ray 141 Bruffey, B. H 189 Buchanan, Elizabeth S 372 Buck, Estella 32 Budde, Miss Rosa 316 Bulkley, Mrs. Joseph C 265 Burgess. J. T 2-298 Burtscher, William J 389 Byers, Mrs. Olive 97 Callaghan, Robt. H 88-268 Carev, Miss Alice E 409 Case^ Katherine H 198 Catherwood, T. B 67 Cathrine, Isabel 'i22 Page Ceaser, A. A '. . . . . 42 Cesler. Dora A 215-313 Chamberlian, Mrs. V. G. . . . 321 Christian, Mrs. Hannah.... 351 Church. Leondus, M 197 Clarke, Jewett 362 Clairmonte, Elizabeth 228 Cleveland, Miss Carry 117 Clifton, Berne 360 Coan, Earl 43-162 Coleman, Mrs. C. B 184 Collier, Dorsey C 377-396 Colyn, L 292 Connor, W. O 60 Conway, Richard 187 Cook, Amy J 220 Cool, Mrs. Delia 110 Cooper, Miss IN anna Eline . . 30-68 Cope, Kate Emerson 74 Corkran, R. LeRoy 89 Corliss, Edith D 381 Cotter, Mercedes Esther .... 84 Cotirt, Leonard, John 415 Craig, Anna Mack 1-78 Cram, Miss Caraola M 249 Crandall. Carrie A 155 Crane, Margaret 5 Creamer. Wilbert 235 Cryne, G. S 114 Curtis, Charles A 4 Daniel, Thomas 51 Daniels, Jessie L 156 Davis, L. G 82 Deacon. Mrs. Angeline 79 DeForest, L. S 121 Dempsey, Mrs. Mary 130 Dennis, A. R 83 Dickinson, Mrs. Bertha 69 Dille, Mary J 300-39X Dills, James Reed 245 Doll, Miss Anna M 269 Dooley, Rose E 115 Dowey, Miss Grace 392 Duggins, Edward 336 Dunbar, Richard S 48 Dungey, Mrs. Blanche E. . . . 211 Dwyer, Gertrude 133 Edwards. Harry A 391 Edwards, Mrs. N. E 226 Egerton, Frances J 350 Elam, Susan ■ 106 21 Index Page Ellingen, Ed. J. H 95 Eskes, Albert H 150 Evans, Mrs. K. T 221 Fahnestock, Fred S 380 Fakes, Blanche B Ill Fay, Allie M 341 Felton, Mrs. M. W 151 Fetterer, Mrs. L 17 Fleming, A. M 277 Flint, Mrs. Mary Kent 139 Franks, Mrs. A. J 16 Eraser Evan R 11 Freeland, M.J 322 Friedline, Geo. W 164 Frost, Oscar F 247 Fuller, Martha M 44 Fulsher, Ina B 37 Gaines, W. S 370 Gannoe, Thos. A 1 19-256 Gates, Edith Mav 252 Gates, Teinple. . '. 122 Geary, Carrie B 259 Geyer, Goldie 2l4 Gibbons, Mrs. Mary A 307 (iieseker, Florence 169 (ileason, Mary Amarett 15 Gold. Grace 346 Golding, Anna 208 Goss, Mrs, Ada E 234 Goss, Mrs. M. A 413 Graham, Thos. V 402 Gray, fohn L. E 29 Green," Mrs. A. C 339 Greene, M. Edyth 288 Griffin, Ezekiel Benj, 203 Griffith, Logan G 204 Gustin, H. Wellington 157 Hall, Irene 294 Hamacher, Mrs. Lida 219 Hammarlof, Ida 177 Harris, Mrs. Gertrude 261 Harrow, Etla Waite 61 Harvey, O. L 343-273 Haskell, Walter Scott 134 Haskins, Lyde Todd 205 Haskins, Nannie J 160 Hawley. Agnes J £24 Hayes, Mrs. Mary A 181 Hays, Mary L 136-385 Hea, Carolyn 296 Heath, Mrs. Sara E ' 283 Henderson, S. A 127 Hesse, W. A 374 Hicks, Rob't M 408 Hill! Ada Day 107 Hill, Mrs. M J 185 Hirst. Wm. A T . . 366 Hissom, Maud Paden 201 Histed, Thaddeus C 125-404 Page Hobart, May 242 Holding, Mrs. Frank 334 Holmes, Miss J. Augusta, . .. 378 Holt, Sadie A 318 Houck, Susan 393 Howard, Frederick A 218 Hugg, Miss Mary 258 Huiiton, Lola G 14 Hand, Beth 180 Inloes, William Hubert 326 Irish, Miss Coral J 327 Irvin, D. R 131 Jackson, Mrs. Arthur 66 James, Miss Lorena M 345 Jarman, Mrs. L. Gilbert 3l0 Jenkins, Hattie Hartwell 251-129 Jenks, Percy 262 Jenks, Tyler B 293-128 Johns, Louis 250 ■ Johnson. Mrs. A. B 152-406 Johnson, Clara May 7 Johnson, Daniel F 357 Johnson, Hadden Lcuis 212 [ohnson, Tenie 27 Johnson. W. A 40—56 Jones, Juliette 365 Kabrich, Chas. H 77-146 Kaesemacher, Gus. C 92 Kelly, Mrs. C 20 Kenner, G. L 116-253 Kephart, Mrs. A. E 186 Keyes, Emma M 291 King, A. M 388 Kirkpatrick, Alice 314 Knox, Janette Hill 285 Kruger, August W 225-414 Kyle, Mrs. J. W 3 Kyle, William P 174 Kyrk, A. J ". 367 Lancaster, Paul 8 Lane, Mrs. Sue Mills 85 Larson, Miss Clara H 386 Latimer. L. Marion 387 Lawrence, Edson 19 Lawson. K 191 Leak, Eva Lillian 80 Le Faivre, Mrs. A. J 319 Leveridge, Miss Lillian 305 Lewis, Elizabeth A 246 Lewis, Frank Irving 287 Lewis, William A. .^ 390 Lightfoot, Mrs. N. () 279 Lincoln, Mrs. A. L •, . . 86 Livengood, Flora 25 Llewellyn, Josephine 359 Lloyd, Mrs. Jeffie C... 329-358-405 Locke, Addie W lOO Lovelace, Mrs. Hattie 352 Index III Page Lowder, Ida 1 79 Lund, C. N. Jr 203 Lyman, George Lee 57 Macdonald, J 132 Mackey, Mrs. Isabel E 35 Mackenzie, Miss Jennie 194 Makinson, Joseph 1S3 Mallett, Gerald G 299 Mansfield, Samuel 306 Martin, Mrs. A. S 59 Martin, F. H 229 Mason, Mrs. M. A ...•36S Mayhew, Ida E 9 Mayne, Mrs, Emma ^M 21 McAllister, Grace E 317 McCartan, Miss Mollie 28 McCuen, Mrs. Rob't 315 McDougall, Jeanette Gay. . . 120 ■ McDuell, Mary E '. . . . 49 McGrath, Mrs. M.J 309 McNaul, Clara 332 Melville, Mrs. B. A...- 394 Melville, Chas. H 354 Menacon, J. E 335 Michael, Mrs. C. S 239 Michael, Julia 195 Miers, Nettie Grigsbv. 240 Mills. Miss Ellen C/ 112 Mitchell, J. Francis Jr 39 Moody, Alice Davis 143 Moone, Fred Pearce 289 Moore, Charles Sebastian. . . . 399 Morehead, Ida Chalmers. . . . 304 Morris, Lily Rutherford 2fi4 Moseley, Rev. J. W. Sr 108 Motlev, Carrie Hampton.... 248 Mugford, Mrs. K. B 23 Munden, Mrs. Laura Barnett 149 Nelson, Laure Browne 286 Nelson, Mrs. Mattie 124 Nielssen, Mrs. Dr. A 281 Norris, Miss Anna L 290 Ogg, Miss Evalena 50 O'Hara, Helena F 58 Ott, Miss Luella 144 Packwood, Mrs. L. H. C. Sr. 232 Parker, Miss Carrie 153 Parks, Alice M 236 Parks, Mattie Louise 266 Patrick, Francis 275 Peacher, Josephine 26 Perkins. Mrs. F. A 340 Pierson, Ida Pender 178-244 Plesswell, Lurio 255 Porter, Marion E 382 Powell, David M. T 175 Powell, Miss Jessie May 4l2 Price, Floyd James 344 PajHE closing day brings forth the charm To fill the earth and keep from harm All nature's pleasure for to shai^e, A robe^of scarlet for to wear. One day, beneath the shady tree We find a rest, sweet things we see. Next day it finds, that in the grave, We meet, with death's cold, chilling wave. "What is the day," the rich man said. He found no place to lay his head. For earthly days had passed away. He had no time to save the fray. The poor man quietly turns away; Lays, waiting for another day. His heart was filled with brighter things, That brings him close where Jordan sings. The summer birds, they have a day, To sing their song and work and play. But sadder things, we see they lay Upon the grass, the boy they say. The sun goes down, far in the West, Sinks slowly o'er the plain, Dark shadows o'er us seem to rest And o'er the ones were slain. G E M S OF POESY jy LONG YEARS AGO. CHARLES H. KABRICH. WHILE sitting by the fireside of a humble home to-night, My thoughts revert to bygone days when life was gay and bright ; ' . As I gaze upon the embers and watch their fiery glow, I seem to hear the voices that I knew long years ago. In memory, forms and faces through the years I seem to see, And the smile of a fond mother from the past comes back to me ; Though the shadows now have deepened, and many a winter's snow Has fallen on the graves of those we lost long years ago. The brothers, sisters, playmates who oft roamed the fields with me. To the music of the tinkling bells, bird songs and hum of bee, Have wandered down life's highway — some have left this vale of woe ; Yet through the gloom of present, gleams the light of long ago. GEMS OF POESY THINK BEFORE YOU DRINK WHISKEY, WINE OR BEER. Y ANNA MACK CRAIG. OU always ought to fear. You'll never take a drink But what you will think Before you ever had taken a drink Your prospects were, oh, so bright. But now you can't see Where the fault could be, Why you cannot have luck Like others you see. Now, wasn't it whiskey, Wine or beer That you alwa}'s ought to fear ? So, you take a drink of water, Then your loved ones will not wonder. "Where is our boy tonight ?" GEM^S OF POESY -g BY THE OLD CABIN DOOR A MRS. ANGEI.INE DEACON. N OTHER year passed and gone Still finds us in our cabin home, Among the clover and the bees, The birds and the trees, the green leaves A waving in the breeze. We were happy as the birds singing in the trees. We would sit at night in the moonlight And sing the songs that took our thoughts Back to the days of yore When we were young and gay. Now we are old and gray and we sit And sing the songs of yore by the old cabin door. 8o GEMS OF POESY BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS OF SPRING. EVA LILLIAN LEAK. SPRINGTIME : Oh ! glorious, Springtime ! Joyous and happy thou art ! Weaving your garlands about us of roses, and mosses and ferns ! Sighing naught, but rejoicing the livelong day. You are lulled with the robins soft lay in the trees far away — Swelling his notes of praise. Springtime, you are my idol, Beautiful, careless and free. With your verdant lawns, dipped in dew, heaven's freshest showers I Thirst not, but drink, Aye drink of earth's treasures pure,' fresh and sweet. Rejoice and be glad, rejoice with the Springtime, and list to the gay birds soft notes once again, As they swell forth for you and for me. Springtime, with your beautiful lilies, Easter lilies, thou beautiful gift ! On this morning so fair, ah, we gaze at you there Your heads aloft to gr.eet us. Chime Bells, call them in, the great and the small From the highways and hedges they come by the score to welcome Old Springtime, and all of its treasures. GEMS OF P O E S' V Si I THE SONG I WILL SING. MINNIE A. WILLIAMS. SANG, g-aily sang at the breaking dawn, A song of greeting to the blushing morn. So careless and so free was the roundelay. That the sad ones unmoved went their way. But the revellers paused and caught the refrain, And caroled it over and over again. And as it echoed back so recklessly flung, There came a regret that the song had been sung. I sang not again till my chastened heart. Voiced forth a strain, which made the tear drops start, The estranged forgave under its melting power, And the faithless returned to their vows. The hopeless were raised from their deaths of despair, And cheerfully resumed their burdens of care, Then higher and sweeter its resonance rang. Repeating the trill of the song that I sang. Ah ! That is the song I will daily sing. And send it aloft on the morning's wing. Its cadence shall set all the joy bells a-chirae, And return to my life at the even-time. Of duty and promise and love it shall trill. Till souls will respond with an answering thrill, Still stronger and sweeter its changes shall ring. And blessings will follow the song that I sing. 82 GEMS OF POESY THE OBJECT OF LIFE. T LEROY G. DAVIS. ELL me the joy of living — Tell me the object of life. Is it found in the pleasure of doing — Is it found in the spii^it of strife ? Is it found in the hum of our commerce — In the living excitement and rush ? Is it found in political intrigue, Ever filled with its vice and its push ? Deep down in the heart throbs of industry, Selfish with avarice rife, Seek ye the joy of living, Find ye the object of life ? Tell you the joy of living ? Tell you the object of life ? It is found in the plan of salvation ; It is found in the Christlike strife It is found in the sweetest of blessings, In the doing for others than self ; It is found in the pleasures of giving, Although not in the regions of pelf. Deep down in the practice of Christ-likeness, Loving with Godliness rife ; Seek ye the joy of living, Find ye the object of life. GEMS OF POESY 83 THE AWAKENING. ALLEN REDMAN DENNIS. WHEN winter's North Wind blows his lyric refrain, Through the tuneless barren boughs ; And the gardens shorn of their fragrance, Drink in the gentle rain ; With moaning and bewailing, he bestirs and arouses The heaps of scattered leaves ; I fancy the lorn bedecked in blossoms and green, as When summer waters clear, kiss roses dear. Though the meadow seems dead and full of woe, And the evenings dismal, starless — gaunt to behold ; Beyond and above past the mountain row ; My vision clears; ever and anon o'er the sunset low. Summer has awakened; over the deserted, nature's laughter rings, From the budding trees joyous voices sing, When summer waters clear, kiss all the flowers near, We're coming back to see you, dear. 84 G E M S OF POESY M MUSIC. MERCEDES E. COTTER. USIC is the voice'^of Heaven When the world was created And all things lived And breathed. In Harmony and AiTection The Creator gazed Upon this Master piece, As an artist. Upon his latest painting And said " There is but one thing lacking To make this world A Paradise. Let there be Music." Fountains tinkled sweet melodies. The brooks hummed merrily The birds list, Then burst forth in praise. The world was drowning in music. And on, through the dark past On, unto this enlightened age The world is still full of melody. There are sounds of sweetness Ever in the air. The fountains and brooks still retain The melod}^ of the Creation. And so will it be till the melody of earth Will join the Angels' Chorus. GEMS OF POESY ^ '85 IN MEMORY OF PRESIDENT WILLIAM McKINLEY. o MRS. SUE MILLS LANE. VER the world a sadness reigns, The nation's chieftain has been slain, By the hand of a foreign foe. The sad tidings wafted from shore to shore. His dying words will ever stand, Through ages — a monument grand ; " It is Thy way — Thy will be done," Fell from his lips, e'er the rising sun," Honored Chieftain, true and tried, The years, thou ruled the human tide. Thy work unfinished — God deemed best, Thou should take thy silent rest. 86 GEMS OF POESY POND LILIES. MRS. A. L. LINCOLN. HE brought me a bunch of pond lilies, ' My daughter young and fair ; She wore the buds on her bosom, And in her nut brown hair. Well she knew I loved the lilies, That they were my favorite flowers ; They carried me back to my childhood, With its happy golden hours. I sat in the calm, pleasant twilight. With the lilies on my knee, And their perfume rose like incense And they seemed to speak to me Of a love so pure and lasting, Of a love that will never grow cold. As I buried my face in their petals, And kissed their hearts of gold. O, lilies, snow white lilies ! You a lesson taught to me, — That our souls, though stained and sinful Still may be as white as thee, . Washed in water and uprising From the dark and noisome sod, Still may, like the lilies, render Beauteous service to our God. GEMS OF POESY 87 A DREAM. I'ETER M, STEEN. AST night as asleep I was lying- ' Upon my soft feather bed, I dreamed that my body was dying- And my soul toward heaven sped. It drank of freedom's fresh fountains, Unmarred by the casket of clay. And soared over the highest mountains, Passing planets and suns on its way, Onward my soul was Sipeeding, Through regions dazzling bright ; As planets and suns were receding Others were coming in sight. I heard celestial voices, I saw of heaven a gleam. But was awakened by earthly voices And found it was only a dream. 88 GEMS OF POESY LIFE ENDS NOT ALL. D ROBERT HENRY CAIXAGHAN ID life end all, -we'd seek no other realm For joy's own perfect lasting charm. Though soon 'tis foimd that many grievous days Have end of earthly sorrow, and of care, Beyond the point where troubles need begin, 'Tis consolation of but little worth. The battles old are fought in battles new. Aweary with the strife and stress of years, A human heart still gives its help and hope, 'Mid all the changing scenes. Did life end all, would die in mind, remembered sin, Where love forgets its pathway that was rough. But since end comes not unto Thee, O God ! We supplicate with earnest sincere prayer To know the surest, happiest onward path Astray, where neither life nor death end all. GEMS OF POESY 8g A CHRISTMAS EVE SERMON. R. LEROY CORKRAN. A SPRIGHTLY lad of ten at play, Was preaching to his mates one day, With upside down, his book in hand. Instructing them of the belter land ; When suddenly our Pastor dear Ventured in their midst to hear / The tidings told by one so small Of Him who reigns supreme o'er all. Unconscious of our Pastor there, The little lad shook back his hair And to his hearers calmly said: '* Be careful, dear one, how you're led From now 'till night, from night 'till morn, For unto us a Christ was born in Bethlehem (am I not right) O'er nineteen hundred years ago tonight. This night He has forever blest. And brought unto the world sweet rest; And dear old Santa, I do declare, Will come with presents rich and rare; And we, tomorrow, will joyfully say, ■God, bless him this is our Christ-day." go GEMS OF POESY THE BATTLE OF MANILA. JULIA liELLE TOWNER. WRITTEN on the page of history by hands of youth so fair and brave, Is the battle of Manila, far o'er the distant ocean's wave. It shall echo down the ages as the years go rolling on, That victory at Manila where we fought the haughty Don. On that night of inky darkness Dewy led his gallant band Safe into Manila harbor, there to wait his brave command. There lay his fleet, with youthful crews, each heart was all aflame, Eager to avenge the fate of those who perished on the Maine. Nor did the wily Spaniard guess the work of that dark night, Until tlie ray.s of morn revealed our ships to their dazed sight. A sharp report came ringing out to warn that Spanish fleet. But our brave boys were well prepared that reckless foe to meet. Then came a quick command, "To arms ! my gallant tars. Nor let a gun be silent till every Spanish ship is ours. Lift high our starry banner, and with true and steady aim We'll teach these Dons a lesson, and settle for the Maine." The fight was fierce; boom after boom clashed in that Spanish fleet, And one by one the "pride of Spain" sank in the briny deep. Exploding shell and steady fire soon silenced every gun, And when the smoke of battle cleared, behold, our victory won I GEMS OF POESY gi THE POESIES OF LOVE. WILLIAM AUGUSTUS BATTLE. HOW weird and strange the poesies of love-i- That catch the rays from heaven — the hues from flower The woodland echoes of the turtle dove, The gleams of moonlight dozing on a tower, And mingling them in one bright mystic role, Entrance with richest joys the boundless soul. Oh, what is it, that like the twilight dwells. Bewildering o'er thee in its spell. With power unutterably strange that tells, How charmingly sweet and spirituelle. Thou art like visions seen in quiet dreams, — That wake the spirit with transporting themes. Oh, what is it — this matchless shining pearl, That so divinely leads my soul in quest. That so enchants me, as when stars unfurl Their brightest glories in the sinking west. That fills me, first with joy, and then with sighs. What is it, but the love within thine eyes. g2 GEMS OF POESY AS WE JOURNEY O'ER THE WAY. GUS. C. KAESEMACHER. KIND words are like the sunshine, in days both dark and clear. Scatter them along your pathway, change all sadness into cheer. Kind words have wondrous power, although we speak but few, They are sweeter than the roses, kissed with drops of sparkling dew. When you're feeling sad and lonely, as you journey, o'er the way, And you're greeted by one smiling, don't your sadness fade away ? Silence not your thoughts of kindness, speak kind words to those you know, Chance a friend of yours be near you, should you love him, tell him so. Since actions speak much louder, than words both false and true, Show your kindness, yes, in actions, as you life's path pursue. Kind deeds are ne'er forgotten, however small be they. So let's scatter deeds of kindness, as we journey o'er the way. Hearts will blossom by your kindness, like a rose that blooms in May, Hearts will wither by your harshness, like a flower cast away. Never speak a word of harshness, but be always kind and true, If your heart longs for one near you, speak the words — "Dear, I love you." GEMS OF POESY gs A BENEDICTION. H I JULIA BELLE TOWNER. OW can I cease to pray for thee, somewhere In God's great universe thou art today; Can He not shield thee with His tender care? Can He not hear me when for thee I pray ? How sweet the thought, that He, who holds within The hollow of His hand, all worlds, all Space, Should care for thee in this dark world of sin, And grant thee shelter in a pleasant place. Somewhere thou livest, and hath need, of Him; Sonlewhere thine eye sees lofty heights to climb; Perchance, somewhere there may be valleys dim Through which thou 'It pass to reach the hills sublime So all the moi^e because thou canst not hear Poor human words of blessings, do I pray. Oh, true, brave heart, God bless thee wheresoe'er Thou art in this great universe today. g4 GEMS OF FOES Y YOU CAN ONLY LOVE ONE MOTHER WILLIS D. WHEATON. GENTLY as the moon beams shine o'er the grave of my d^ar mother, I oft times remember that when a child she held me on her knee And amid the evening hours sang sweet songs to me. Tr)'- as I will I cannot love another as I did that one dear mother; And as the years pass by I will miss her and when I have no one to love But sister, brother, as o'er this wide world I roam, I will always remember how I loved that one dear good mother. You can only love one mother, the one that taught you your infant prayers, And how to gain the happy land Try as you will you cannot love another As you did that one dear good mother, and home will be no more without her. And when you have no one to love, but sister, brother, as o'er this Wide, wide world you roam, you will always remember how you loved that one dear angel mother ; You can only love one mother, forget her you never can ; And the last sweet smile that was on her lips before she entered the happy land In your mem'ry they'll always be while she is sleeping wuth the angels Far beyond the surging sea. Try as you will you cannot love another As you did that one dear good mother and when you have no one to love But sister, brother, as o'er this wnde, wide world you roam. You will always remember how you have loved that one dear angel mother. You can only love one mother and when she is laid to rest, And o'er her grave you weep you will always remember the watch- ful care That o'er you she did keep as you lay in her gentle arms to sleep. Try as you will you cannot love another as you did that one dear good mother, wide And when you have no one to love, but sister, brother, as o'er this Wiae, world you roam you will always remember, how you loved that one dear mother. GEMS OF POESY qs SOUNDS OF LIFE ED. J. H. ELLINGEN ■ WHAT sound is that which the evening breeze, In cool and fresh exuberance, wafts o'er the slumbering * trees 'Tis the echo of nature exulting in glory and wealth, untold, Whispering of happiness more precious than gold. And still there comes another soimd, different by far, Than nature's merry greeting to us where ere we are. 'Tis a mournful call of the turtle dove, calling to its mate, Calling for its loved one, while patiently it does wait. And now comes still another sound — 'tis a human soimd drawing near. But its note wrings our hearts with anguish, as its mournfulness we hear 'Tis a mother, mourning for a loved one, who has gone astray ; God grant she may recover her, who from a mother's love has wandered far away. The last sound we hear is at the turning of life's end. When with grief and bowed head, we to the church yard our way wend, 'Tis the tolling of the church bells for you or I, Speeding us on our journey, beyond the sunny sky. g6 GEMS OF POESY LIFE'S SUBLIMITY. CORRINE BARTON. S sweeps the tide in from the sea, ^ Gathering force with its onward course ; Thus doth the years as they onward roll, Give strength and beauty to the God-lit soul. And this is life's sublimity. GEMS OF POESY g-j RING FREEDOM BELLS. R MRS. OLIVER RICE I'.VERS. RESPECTFrLLY DEDICATED TO THE D. A. R. ING out O bells of Freedom ring, And tell again the glad old story, How deeds of patr'ot sires of old Have ushered in a nation's glory. Tell how a Country, broad and free Has come to us, a blessed dower ; 'Twas purchased by our fathers 'blood. Who freed it from Oppression's power. Responsive to their Country's call They lay their lives upon her altar ; Nor in the peril of the field Will they be ever known to falter. Until that dawn of hope arise, When muskets shall with rust be eaten : When universal peace will reign. And "swords to plough-shares shall be beaten." No more in mortal conflict, then. Shall brother be arrayed 'gainst brother ; And Man in truth will then obey The new command, "love one another." Then he who on the battle field, With deeds has made his name immortal, And he who waged a peaceful war Shall enter through the blessed portal. And, freed at last from earthly strife, Will sit at God's right hand forever. And under praise to Him who has Of life eternal been the giver. Then ring, O bells, ring out once more And tell again the blessed story. How sire and son with patr'ots zeal Have brought out the nation's glory 98 GEMSOFPOESy SLUMBER AND TEARS. MINNIE ROSILLA STEVENS. ^HE golden lilies trembled in the sun ; The wild birds twittered carols, one by one ; The river laughed, while all the world was glad, And only I was weary, worn and sad. But presently the mists began to roll As dark across the sky,- as o'er my soul ; And while with elbow pillowed head I slept. The clouds bent o'er the happy things and wept. I woke-a band of pinkish, pearly light Alone remained to part the day from night ; Stars had appeared where clouds were blown apart, And every j-ain-drop bore one in its heart. I saw the golden lilies, slumbering lie, Lulled by the river's tender lullaby, And as they in their tranquil beauty slept, I bowed before the happy things and wept. GEMS OF POESY gg STARS OF THE NIGHT. Y RUTH E. PUTNEY E beautiful stars of the night above, Gazing down on the earth below, Through thy quiet shine revealing divine Truth in thy bright and steadfast glow. Some conception grant of Eternity Of its magnitude vastly grand, After day light dies, when from twilight skies Ye beam bright o'er the darkened land. May the wondrous and radiant beauty Fill our souls with calm delight, When care we release, shine emblems of peace Afar through the still of the night. Away from the world's busy toil and strife, Quietly shining in Heaven, Teach us how to live, and thro love forgive Just as we would be forgiven. ^ Does Infinite, justice, mercy and love Appear small to our naked eye ? - Will more faith and hope like the telescope Make greater the glory on high ? Evermore in celestial grandeur shine Let thy gleams resplendently bright Still beckon us on, till life's victory's won, Ye beautiful stars of the night. Uo«C 100 GEMS OF POESY OLD LETTERS. ADDIE \V. LOCKE. OOKING over my treasures ^ On a day that was dull and drear ; I took up a packet of letters That started the silent tear. They were old and faded and yellow, But ah, how dear to me ; For they were a faithful record Of a true heart's constancy I sat in a dreamy reverie, As the years passed in review ; Then finally opened the packet, And read each letter through. What emotion stirred my bosom, And how my heart did glow, To read those dear and loving words Written so long ago. The hand that penned those letters, Oft fondly held my own ; But now its touch I'll no more feel, Till we stand before God's throne Then I thought, why should I keep them, For curious eyes to see ; To gloat o'er my faded treasures. Which are sacred alone to me. No, in the flames I'll burn them, Till there's nothing but ashes left; Just as we cremate dear ones, When by death we are bereft. But think 3^ou I'll forget those words. No, no. there is no fear ; For on my Iieart they are inscribed. And I need no souvenir. GEMS OF POESY loi WATCHING AND WAITING. o MRS. HENRY ROBINSON. UT on the rolling ocean, Out on the placid sea ; Out on the surging billows, Angels are waiting for thee, Watching and waiting — watching and waiting, Angels are watching and waiting for thee. Our lives are like, the ocean, And on it we're roughly tossed ; Without God to guide our compass, We're ship-wrecked and forever lost. Watching and waiting — watching and waiting, Angels are watching and waiting for thee, - The hopeful barque of manhood Sails o'er the ruffled sea ; At last the weary w^Inderer Is dashed into eternity. Watching and waiting — watching and waiting, Angels are watching and waiting for thee. 102 GEMS OF POESY THE LOST FLOWER OF PARADISE. I E. J. BOWEN. MMORTAL flower! Now blooming here tonight! So beautiful that gates are swung ajar, While visions of an Eden breathe a light, Unfolding all that's written on a star. Revealing through an hour, the mighty cost. The active force of sin through fallen woe ! Revealing how a paradise was lost, Where beauty reigned undying to a foe. What master hand hath granted thee this right To bring that golden past into this age ? Or say didst thou flee into the night, To measure out thy beauty to our page ? To show the lily of an angel path. The path which Adam trod before he fell ; Where roses flourished long before the wrath Of God chained Satan to a doom in Hell ! Or did a lonely night desire a feast And steal thy virtue for himself alone. Before the day which brought the evil beast Into the garden, where thy beauty shone ? Perchance some star where flowers bloom at night, Hath sprinkled germs down through our atmosphere, And beating with new life, their sacred right Was recognised here on this mundane sphere. Oh, flower celestial! May thou ever bloom ? Sweet treasure of the night and summer skies ! , Incomparable ! We speak of thy perfume "As flowing from the flower of Paradise." GEMS OF POESY 103 CHARACTER CARVING. H FRANCES LITTLEFIELD SHERRILL. E who rises all supreme From a -failure dark and grim, Carving with a purpose keen On the buried wreck within Has reared unto himself a name More lasting than the costly shaft Of marble — -monument of fame And emblem of man's handicraft. And as he carves it day by day, While wearied hands would gladly lay The burden down, the soul cries out, "IlCeep on, brave heart, nor let a doubt Hold fast thy hand, nor check the steel. Cut deeper yet! that you may feel. 'Tis only thus you e'er can gain The perfect life— the best attain." Marble crumbles to the earth. Time destroys its form and worth. Every victory over wrong, Won by struggles fierce and long. Leaves a mark upon your life Naught can touch 'mid aay strife. 'Tis carved upon a soul immortal, And aid to help it reach God's portal. I04 G E M S OF P O E S Y PEACE. \V. C. ARNOLD. ^HE soft wind breathes so lowly as it passes by ; The moments seem so holy while it lingers nigh ; For in its breath of sweetness, peace untold is found And treasured hours in fleetness, pass beneath its sound. The home is much the sweeter, filled with peace divine ; The days of life completer, where its glories shine ; And heaven seems the nearest in its hallowed charm, Yes, peaceful joys are dearest, for they never harm. The day of man is given for his useful life ; In peaceful deeds for heaven, not in deeds of strife. The heart of one enjoyeth thrilling peace so sweet. But strife that joy destroyeth crushing to defeat. When service here is ended, worlds above are known ; Sweet peace, with singing blended, lingers 'round the throne. And white winged doves forever bear the branch of peace ; And bliss shall be a river forever to increase. GEMS OF POESY 105 WAR. c \V. ( . ARNOLD. AN there be in wars unnumbered Honor found for men alone ? Many years have heroes slumbered Who to war had never gone. Shall we not be heroes ever In the war of Right 'gainst Wrong ? Though no gun shall make men quiver, There shall be a victor's song. Countrymen, be up and doing ! Save thy home from danger's woes, Battles daily fought are strewing Honored dead as Life's heroes. Conflicts fought and won are urgent, Won in times of peace, not war. Haste! oh hasta the time emergent When men shall learn strife no more. Mankind has for many ages In the conflict constant been. History tells amid its pages Of their battles' roar and din. He who would his country's honor Higher lift by deadly strife, His a name on Fame's fair banner Though he saw it not in life Often have the deep emotions Stirred within me while I read Of the patriots' devotions. Soldiers living, warriors dead. How they freely did surrender Up their lives, their homes to save How they nobly did defend her. Heroes loyal, strong and brave. io6 GEMS OF POESY I LOVE AMERICA. I SUSAN ELAM. LOVE America. She's the fairest of the fair ; The land that every nation views with pride. Where every one is free from the prairie to the sea, And every one stands equal side by side. ^ Chorus. I'm a true American, and I love my country well ; Its hills and dales-its rivers and prairies wide ; We will guard it safe and sure, with its stars and stripes so pure Then hurrah for the flag, the true American's' pride. How we love our glorious land, guarded by a faithful band. Where Columbia weaves the flag that she loves best ; From the center to the sea, she still holds freedom's key. Stamped with the motto of "In God We Trust. " Then let our banner wave, o'er our country, free and brave, In prosperity and peace from shore to shore ; And we'll show what we can do under the stars and stripes so true, \nd war and strife shall trouble us no more. GEMS OF POESY 107 OUR LOVED ONE. o ADA DAY HILL. UR hearts are sad when we look back o'er The road on which we've trod, And think of the one we shall see no more Who is lying beneath the sod. The voice of our loved one is silent, No more to be heard in our home. And motionless his form so gallant, No more with us to roam. Those sparkling eyes are closed for aye. And white's that noble brow. Beneath the cold and silent clay Our loved one is sleeping now. Forever in our memories Shall live his shining face, But this world and all its glories Cannot fill his place. And this thought alone sustains us That some day we'll meet again, Over on that shining shore Where all is free from sin. io8 GEMS OF POESY LOVE'S ALLEGORY REV. J. \V. MOSELFA', SR. OLady fair, wilt thou not buy? How rich the wares I bring, Velours and silks of wonderous dye, Purple and gold of spring. The Lady smiles, the waves unfold, Soft silks and gems that shine ; In hand she places current gold, ' 'These precious things are mine *' "Lady," once more the merchant cries "One jewel more bear T, More rich, more rare than mortal eyes Discern beneath the sky. " "If worn upon thy snowy breast Within thy weary heart, 'Twill bring a calm of sweetest rest Each sorrow be a part " The Lady gazed with cheeks aglow Upon this merchant Prince. Where is that gem, its lustre show. Produce and me convince. "If gold can buy it shall be mine, Merchant display thy pearl, To-day it ceases to be thine For such I'd give the world." Her eyes are lit with wonderous light, Her bosom strangely thrilled; Her spirit throbbed with new delight. Her breast with love is filled. "Oh sweet and most enchanting spell That falls upon my soul ; Good merchant Prince, the truth you tell, Love's better far than Sfold. " GEMS OF POESY log WE SHALL vSURELY SEE THE LIGHT. B ARTRENA VAN STARR. E contented and happy whatever your lot, And the angels will bless you for aye. Don't borrow trouble for life is short, Make the best of it while you stay. Don't sit and mourn, because some other perhaps Has more in this world than you. But try and remember that gold cannot buy What God has offered you. Sweet joy, peace and happiness Forever and for aye, As the angels in his kingdom Dwell with him today. Think of all that God has offered, And do not pass it by; But let your life be like the sunshine, Beaming from the sky. Send your golden rays where darkness Shrouds a poor lost soul ; Try and make their lot more happy, And to them unfold. What you have yourself experienced Since you took the cross. It may make their own salvation Safe to meet their God. It means labor, time and patience For us all to brave the storm ; But it's easy - just as easy Why make ourselves forlorn. Let our thoughts and deeds be holy, As an angel bright. Then when our life's work here is finished We shall surely see the light. no GEMS OF POESY THE GAMBLER'S STORY. MRS. DELLA COOL. w OULD you think I once was happy — Had a home and friends so dear — If you listen for a moment My sad story you shall hear. I was once loved and respected, Had an angel for a wife ; And we lived so very happy Till the wine cup cursed our life. Then my wife with kind words warned me From those rum-shops I should stay ; And I listened for a moment, Then in anger turned away. And still I kept on gambling. Lost our little home so dear ; Then I moved her to a garret That was ever cold and drear. Here she toiled on in anguish, Striving hard to earn our bread. I was in a drunken stupor, When they told me she was dead. I killed her though I loved her Better than all else beside, With my appetite for liquor — Did not know it till she died. Now this wasted life's soon over. What account then must I give, For the Bible plainly teaches That no drunkard there can live. GEMS OF POESY III A CLINGING SORROW. BLANCHF, li. FAKES. ^RE-SvS them to thy lips again, love, Blighted is their bloom, I know. Still they whisper greatest sorrow Of the golden long ago. When our hearts were wrung with anguish. How our tears did wildly floAv I 'Tis a sorrow madly cherished Of the golden long ago. Do these flowers know, my darling, That she slumbers 'neath the sod ? How her gentle life has withered ? But her spirit is with God. She, too pure for earthly evil, Never sorrow will she know ; There remains but fondest memories Of the golden long ago. Oh the hand which held these rose stems. Dimpled hands as white as snow. Long have lain beneath the shadow Of a golden long ago. Press them to thy lips again, love, Breathe a prayer so soft and low. While we lay it where ifs rested Since the golden long ago. With these flowers I breathe farewell, dear 'Mid their leaves I fold my grief, And I pray to meet our darling When He sends that sweet relief. Oh, to clasp again our lost one !' Where our hearts no sin can know. And to once forget this sorrow. Sorrow of the long ago. 112 G E M S O F P O E SY TO A JONQUIL. T ELLEN C. MILLS. HROUGH a most exacting cold, Every tissue strained to hold And prove existence. Now it lives The charmed life a jonquil gives. What a triumph! For it speaks The valor of the Greeks, When Sparta won around the hill, Like bravery shows this jonquil. GEMS OF POESY 113 MOTHER'S ROSE BUSH. B MARY E. VAUGHN. ACK at home a rambling rose bush Grows beside the cottage door ; And each year, from Spring 'til Autumn, With buds and flowers 'tis covered o'er. 'Tis just a dear, old fashioned rambler With roses sweet and red, One summer mother put it there ; Next summer she was dead. We always call it mother's rose bush ; She put it there you know, And we children always tend it And O, we love it so. And I know that now 'tis blooming, ' Though I'm many miles away. And loving hands are gathering roses From that dear bush to-day. If it should be that they are blooming ; When I shall go to rest, Go get a bunch of Mother's roses And place them on my breast. And in my hands, so cold and lifeless. Place a bunch of buds half blown ; To show Mother, when I meet her Over in the great unknown. 114 GEMS OF POESY JUST TELL HER THAT YOU LOVE HER. G. S. CRVNE. IUST tell your wife 5-ou love her, As you did long years ago, When in her youth and beauty With her eyes and cheeks aglow, You vowed that naught could lessen, That naught but death could part. Just tell her that you love her, And press her to your heart. Just take her in your arms again, And kiss her faded cheek, And talk of love and early days. And see her old eyes speak Of joys that spring supernal, When hearts are loyal still. Just tell her that you love her. And that you always will. Yes, tell her that you love her. And have, the years agone. Then she will give her troth again As when you first it won. Thus love-supremest blessing. Shall gild your age with joy. And time will pass like summer days In peace without alloy. GEMS OF POESY 115 I KNOW. ROSE E. DOOLEV. 'OMETIME, somewhere, faraway ' Where yonder sky smiles down, I know we'll find that promised rest And wear a bright, bright crown. I know our toils and griefs shall end, And sorrow come no more When life's boat we have homeward steered Unto our Father's shore. We'll drift no more with sins dark tide. Or struggle with the sullen wave, When victory's won and we are safe crowned In the world beyond the grave. Where sin and misery never comes, And all is joy and grace. We will dwell to never roam again From the light of our Saviour's face. ii6 GEMS OF POESY THE STOLEN HEART. o G. L. KENNER. H, Morton Ray, Oh, Morton Ray, Why did you steal my heart away ? You kissed my lips, you smoothed my hair You said that none were half so fair ; But now I linger iij distress While other maidens you caress ; My heart is sad, I cannot sleep, There's none to cheer me when I weep Oh, Morton Ray, Oh Morton Ray, Why did you steal my heart away ? You came a wooing like a dove, You lit my heart a flame of love. You kissed my cheek, you pressed my hand, You said the fairest in the land. While other maidens now you woo My heart of love is beating true. Oh Morton Ray, Oh Morton Ray, Why did you steal my heart away ? You said my eyes were soft and blue, Like violets in the morning dew. You said my hands were soft and white Would be a prize for any knight. But now my life is cold as clay Since you have stole my heart away. G EM S OF POESY //; COME AND BLESS MY LONELY DWELLING. CARRY CLEVELAND. c OME and bless my lonely dwelling, With thy presence rare and sweet; With thy love, all love excelling', While I worship at thy feet. Thou art fairer than the flowers, Born to bloom and fade away; Which adorn the southern bowers In the merry month of May. Thou art brighter than the roses, 'Neath the azure skies of June, Sweeter than the song of linnet, Warbling forth its own love tune. Thou art lovely as the lillies On the altar Easter Tide; Breathing out their holy fragrance On our happy Easter bride. Thou art purer than the snowdrop, Bursting through the frozen earth, Like a friend in deepest sorrow Chasing gloom with joy and mirth. Lighter than the clouds above us, Tinged with morning's rosy light; Soft as moonlight on the water, Bursting on our ravished sight. Come and bless my lonely dwelling With thy presence, rare and sweet; With thy love, all love excelling. While I worship at thy feet. We will live and love together. Culling flowers by the way; Singing in the wintry weather, Happy all the live-long day. ii8 GEMS OF POESY M MOTHER. L. BRADLEY SPAUN. OTHER! In our language fair Can another name compare With thine? Ah, no, though since I last Saw her sweet face long years have passed. Yet, how that name doth thrill my heart ; Boyhood visions doth impart ; Opens memory's golden door, Recalls happy days of yore. Mother, where art thou tonight ? Thy boy longs for but the sight Of thy dear, sweet, treasured face — To be clasped in one fond embrace. Return, return, if you but can — Let me be changed to boy from man. Then, oh, how happy would I be. Once again to be with thee. Come and then to me 'twill seem That manhood years are but a dream ; Come as of old and in thine arms Safely shield from all alarms. Yes, mother, come again tonight ; My grief will vanish at the sight Of thy sweet face, and on thy breast Eternallv with thee I'll rest. GEMS OF POESY ng A TRUANT LOVE. T. A. (iANNi.)E. I am lonely today as I'm thinking- of you, And of joys that are faded and gone ; There's something that whispers of days that have fled, And I sigh for that love that has flown. Like the scent of sweet flowers, that bloom in the Spring, It came creeping to brighten my day ; But the snows of adversity covers them o'er, And the winds they have blown them away. How sweet was the union of hearts in the past. When true love was the light of the way ; Not a thought ever came, but that it would last. And darkness was turned into day. I remember with pleasure your smile when I came, What a joy with my treasure to be ; Could I see it again, as in days that are gone, Oh, that smile would be heaven to me. Yes, I am lonely today, for the ties will not break That has linked our two lives into one. And a sadness steals over my heart like a chill. When I think of the love that has flown. But I'll wait yet awhile and new courage I'll take ; Perhaps when the winter has passed, And the flowers return in the Spring as yore, They will bring me your love that will last. I will drink of the cup of the future, my wife, I will drain it of all it contains. And live in the joys of the essence of hope, If it brings naught but sorrow and pains. I am lonely today, so I'll think of the past And the smiles I have seen on your face, And cherish the hope that some day, at last Your love will return to its place. 120 G E M S O F P O E S y WHEN LOVE CALLS. JEANETTE GAY MCDOUGALL. MAIDEN dreams in beauty So fair with matchless grace ; No cloud is on the pure white brow, Sweet peace is o'er her face. A youth finds all his happiness In spots both wide and daring ; Life holds for him no other joys, That he should e'er be caring. Then in the Maytime, fair with bloom, The beautiful world adorning, They meet to find in love's sweet dream That life is in its morning. Lovers they walk at eventide, Whispering fond hopes ever, As hand in hand they linger long May they be parted never. Ah, youth and maid where'er they be. In cot or castle walls ; There's one sweet joy 'tis heaven sent. All answer when love calls. Chorus. Though faint and low the whisper falls, *Tis heard and answered when love calls. GEMS OF POESY 121 IN WOMANS' EYES. I LOUIS UE FOREST. N womans' eyes, the light that lies Beneath the tears, beyond the sighs, Our soul may wake to sweet delight, Or turn the brightest day to night. Yet who, alas, would be o'er wise ? 'Tho life may hold full many a prize, What e'er their cost, what e'er their guise, They fade and fall where shines the light in womans' eyes. Let them who may our fate despise. One moment's joy can well suffice, And years of pain so far requite, That memory holds no dearer sight Than when for us love did arise in womans' eyes. 122 GEMS OF POESY LOVE'S MELODY. TEMPLE GATES. ' ING it again my belovea, ' Breathe o'er my spirit its balm ; Give to the heart that is weary, Fullness of rest and of calm. ^ Say it again, still I pray thee, Naught is more sacred to hear ; Naught doth so charm and so bind me, As to know that thy spirit is near. Know that the vows thou hast spoken. Live through the flood-tide of years ; Know that thy life's love, unbroken, Uplifts my sorrows and tears. Sweet to be bound with love's fetters. Till the twilight of life fades away ; Sweet to know never its surcease Till it bursts into infinite day. GEMS OF POESY 123 THE FATE OF MINNIE WA-WA! L. E. RICHARDSON. u PON the shores of Thunder Bay, Two hundred years ago, A savage battle once was fought Between a friend and foe. An Indian maiden, rich and fair Achieved most glorious fame, And bringing freedom to her race, She saved their Chieftain's name ! 'Twas on a dark dreary night, Storm clouds were passing by, And from the approaching tempest blast, A voice was heard to cry : "We come, we come, to do and dare !" Shouted a warrior, strong and bold, "Prepare your weapons for the fray, Grave malice, still we hold !" Two mighty bands of savage braves, Charged right and left for gore. And ere the storm had disappeared, Minnie Wa-Wa was no more. With heroic nerve she fought for peace. And hurled her shafts with deadly aim. Alas ! she fell, to rise no more, As the struggle for justice went on the same. For years those battles waxed furious and wild, Betwixt savage tribes of a by-gone age. Yet the name Minnie Wa-Wa will live forever. And her deeds be written on history's page. I24 GEMS OF P O E S Y PLEASANT THOUGHTS. MRS. MATTIE NELSON. S I look at the rising sun, The dew-drops sparkHng one by one, Hear birds singing in their glee, Oh, this is such a pleasant world to me. My ears listen to sounds so sweet. They seem of God's work so complete, Of human, anima), bird and bee. For he who knows God, knows love and is free. We have night, we have day ; We have sunshine — we have storm ; But we who know love can proudly say, That in them all we find a charm. The bees, the birds, the butterflies and the roses. The child and its many innocent poses ; The rainbow, the shower, the dew-drops as shown. Our eyes feast on these beauties of God's own. There are women who disguise their faces. Pinch their feet and squeeze their waists ; But comfortable and plain as God made them. Are their most pure and lovable graces. G E M S O F P O E SY 125 THE MIRAGE OF LIFE. H THADDEUS C. HISTED. E plucked from its nest in her golden hair A knot of ribbon- blue He gave her a kiss as he held her there, To his heart so fond and true. Those youthful dreams were never reached, As mirage across the plain, A sacred spot of memory etched Into their hearts' refrain. And as they crossed the desert athirst To mountains of hope ajar, Oasis of trees and water bursts That mirage holds afar. The thirst and canker of that night Of the ribbon in golden hair, With water and trees and flowers in sight, True love must ever bear. 'Tis ever thus o'er flowery plain, A mirage of hopes arise To disappear and appear again As blue as the heavenly skies. ■ 126 GEMS OF POESY MEDITATIONS. M EMMA STEWART WALLING. Y thought is like the billow- That dashes on the shore ; It is coming and receding, But it widens evermore. It is like a floating feather, Carried by the passing breeze ; It was gathered from the earth But 'tis born above the trees. It is like a dainty grass- blade Growing meekly on the lawn ; It is small, but it is fully Finely gemmed, each dewy morn. It is like the falling raindrops. Sinking swiftly through the sand It is lost ! but it returneth Soon, to beautify the land. My thoughts is like a moment Captured from the shores of time. It is flitting till I sieze it To fit it in my rhyme. It is like a gleam of sunshine That illumines earth and sky. Or the glimmer of the star- world, Shining on so gloriously. ' It is like a passing fancy. Wafted onward by a breath ; It is faithful in its life, And beautiful in death It is like the happy laughter In the joyous heart of youth ; It is sunny, pure, and brilliant 'Tis the precious gem of-Truth. GEMS OF POESY 127 GOOD BYE MY LOVE. S. A. HENDERSON. ^HE girl I love is going away Says in this place she will not stay. There's nothing here her heart to cheer, There's no one here that she holds dear. Could she but feel that there is one Would miss her more than he would the sun I do not think that she would stray And leave him here to pine away. Ah ! cold I linger at her side And dream away my every care Then life would be a silver stream With nought but to ripple there. Good bye, my love, since you will go And I am forced from you to part How can I bear the last farewell For that will surely break my heart. Since you will go, Queen of my heart I'll tell thee this before we part Though some one else may hold my hand 'Tis only thou that holds my heart. And if we never meet again And coming years should bring you pain I hope you'll sometimes think of me As one whom you would like to see. The one who would your troubles share Who'd shield your heart from every care Who'd kiss away the fallmg tear The one who ever holds you dear. 128 GEMS OF POESY C COMPARISON. TYLER B. JENKS. HARM of early springtime The little flower lifts its dainty head. Kissed by glowing sunshine Its tiny petals to the light it spreads. Just for a summers journey, Only a little while to stay, Soon the blighting frosts Its life will take away. Thus is life's short journey To the human soul, Now 'tis the glow of youth. And then we are growing old. Some day the chilling blight of death Each precious life will take away, Then may we with the ransomed Awake to eternal day. GEMS OF POESY 129 DOORS OF LIFE. HATTIE HARTWEI.L J. I SEE in a new building just across the way High transomed doors erected. In and out for play The happy children home for education's day. Busy workmen bringing the walls close around Halls where wreathes of fame and usefulness abound ; Open churches and schools through this wide land are found. Many doors stand open — which to choose I wonder, Standing wide for life, or some for selfish plunder ; Escape for thy life, nor in sin's vortex flounder. The doors of the cottage and the palace home Are wonderfully bright as the wanderer comes From seeing far strange lands where rise cathedral domes. Too as the tramp goes by and asks a piece of bread, He lingers at your door as if again to be fed With heart listening for kind words to be said. Oh happy loving home, with kindly closing doors Whose master pities the poor, no epithet he pours On hearts already aching for want of earthly stores. "In as much as ye did it unto the least of these Ye did it unto Me". Sweet home beneath the trees There is standing at your door Christ, a king, to please. Whose tender smile will make my home the brighter, However high or low, my task the lighter, While guarding well your doors keep all the lights the brighter. I am an open door, God, the great I Am, Whispers, "Peace, be still, O throbbing heart be calm Praises sweet, O bring a continual psalm." Eyes have not seen, nor ever ears have heard The crystal silvery seas and music that is stirred Through doors of many mansions in th' city of our Lord. 130 GEMS OF POESY MUSINGS. MARY o'nEILL DEMPSEY. THROUGH the gathering- shades of evening [ can see the passing show ; Note the expression of faces As the crowds surge to and fro. One bright soul is so engrossed That his body is ahnost lost As he treads o'er the green maze Until he drops into a phase. To dreamland he wanders in sweet repose, The pathway of future is marked out ere he rose. When he awakens to life, Presented with its conundrum of strife. He vows that from that hour, That with his utmost power He would rise step by step. Hold every notch he cleaved and cleft, — Hew straight the line, Keep a'hewing all the time, Till at last his work sublime Would be booked, yes, every line. And ere long that time will come When his work this day begun, Oh so great, so grand and trying, Will be flaunted and undying. Will be lauded to the skies, Will o'er all the earth be prized, For he works for God alone And to reach his happy home. GEMS Of POESY 131 CASTELLANE ROSES. D. R. IRVIN. AR away where the broad Atlantic Beats the rugged shore, , And the sea-scented zephyrs Moan and sigh for evermore, There's a 'grand old family mansion. With its dark brick rose-wreathed walls And its ancestors in framings Hanging on its dainty walls. Lady Castellane, its mistress, Sleeps beneath the churchyard mould; Long the worms have bred and nested In her locks of shining gold. Many were the gallant lovers Pleading gently at her feet. Bringing fairest, rarest blossoms. Pure and bright, lovely and sweet. One, a soldier of the legion, Sought to woo her for his bride. But she spurned his love and honor And the sabre at his side. Pale with jealousy and anger, Swift he turned and sped away To the noisy din of battle And the surging of the fray. When the sun arose in splendor, Causing the birds and bees to work, Lo ! they found her 'mid the roses With a dagger in her heart. This is how the lovely roses First received their given name, This is why her spirit wanders When the night begins to wane. 132 GEMS OF POESY THE VOICE I LOVE. o J. MACDONALD. UT in the meadows' shimmering light Warbles a songster with plumage bright ; Whispers a voice out of the song, "Come to me, love, why tarry so long ?" Out of a sunbeam — only my ear Could catch the sound, none other could hear — Came the voice with its tender refrain, "Come, oh love, to my arms again." Out of a rainbow, whispering low. Came the voice with its gentle flow, "Come to me, love, why do you wait ? Come to me, darling, I want my mate." Out of the east wind over the hill Came the voice with its heart touching thrill ; "Why do you tarry so long, my love ? Come, oh come, to our home above." Out of the sky at dead of night Shone a star, exquisitely bright ; A voice from that star fell on my ear : ' 'O come to me, love, I am waiting here. " Out of a grave sighed a flower's sweet breath, "My spirit is not in this tomb of death. I have flown from hence to a land above ; Come to me there, oh come, my love. " Out of my heart, with its load of pain, Cries my soul, but cries in vain, — Gladly, how gladly, my own sweet love, Would I go to thee in thy home above. Slowly and sadly time passes on ; The friends of my youth have left me and gone, But the voice that I love still sounds in my ear, - "I wait for you, love, oh come to me here." GEMSOF POESY 133 ALL FOR THE BETTER. **A GERTRUDE DWYER. LL for the better"— they tearfully told her, Each tongue in its utterance some comfort would bring. "All for the best, and ^twas God's will, maybe" — Oh why do those words only sharpen death's sting ? "All for the bestl" — And her boy in his promise, The pride of her heart and the joy of her eye, Had gaily gone forth to his labor at sunrise And entered! — Oh God, if she, too, could but die! "All for the best!" Ah, the words fell unheeded On ears that heard only the moans of her dead, And eyes that saw naught but a darling form mangled, Caught also the glimpse of a fair golden head. "All for the best!" Ah, the night winds blew chilly. While life's greatest mystery lay shrouded within. And life's greatest grief could discern not his wisdom — The "best" to a heart-break is mockery and sin. 134 GEMS OF POESY PEACE TALK. WALTER SCOTT HxVSKELL. 'ALK about the peace of nations, Man's brotherhood and law ! While we've got the Adam in us, There'll be "ruction," there'll be war! While this strenuous life we're living, While we're rushing, grabbing more. There'll be clashing, there'll be smashing, There'll be pistols, knives and gore. We can't make the lamb and lion In loving peace abide. Unless, perchance, the stronger beast Has the weaker one inside. While the Carrie Nations linger 'Found whiskey stills a brewin' There'll be clashin', there'll be smasUin', There'll sure be somethin' doin'. While the flags of different nations. Backed up by shot and shell, Wave above the t'gers crouching. There'll be carnage, there'll be — While each tadpole in his puddle Swears to heaven he knows it all, There'll be clashing, there'll be smashing, And blood writing on the wall. Talk about the peace of nations, Man's brotherhood and law ! While we've got the devil in us There'll be "ruction," there'll be war! Yet, there's something truly noble In the thought of peace divine ; And no man can help but wish it. Though he's lower than the swine. GEMS Ot POESY 135 OUR MEETINGS AND PARTINGS. ELOISE DENISON ARNOLD. WE met in the autumn, the harvest-crowned autumn, — The fields were all brown and the forests ablaze ; The maple tops looked as though fairies had caught 'em And changed them to rubies and gold in amaze. We met and we parted without a regretting ; Our paths were divergent, w^e hasted away ; But somehow our hearts were never quite forgetting Our walk and our talk by the river that day. We met in the summer, the fair, smiling summer. When rose and lily their sweets were distilling, And melody ravished the ear of each comer, The notes of the wood thrush, his rounded trilling. We met and we roamed amid fair woodland 'bowers, New thoughts and new hopes from each scene to borrow, With a sigh for the fleeting of light-winged hours And the parting, alas! to come tomorrow. We met in the winter, the cold, icebound winter; The brown earth lay sleeping 'neath counterpane white; We watched at the fireside each fast dying cinder. And, marking' the time in its ne'er ceasing flight, Bade adieu to the Old Year and welcomed the New. That morn when we parted 'neath lintel of door Each had lost and had found something strano^e, sweet and true That we never had known or dreamed of before. We met in the spring time, the verdure-clad springtime. When nature had wakened the orchards to bloom ; The church bell was pealing harmonious ring-chime. The deep azure sky gave no warning of gloom. We met, did we part on that bright smiling morn? Nay, our hearts were united, our souls became one, All our meetings are o'er till eternity's dawn, Eor we never shall part till earth-life is done. 136 GEMS OF POESY 'TIS ONLY A WORN FADED COAT OF GRAY. 'T MARY L. HAYES. IS only a worn faded coat of gray, That has not been worn in many a day, For its owner lies silent in the clay. He was brave and loyal too, As his comrades can tell you. In the thickest of the fray You would find him every day. When a battle was raging Between the blue and the gray. Chorits. 'Tis only a worn faded coat of gray, But I value it far more than I would a priceless jewel, for Long years ago when grim war Was raging between north and south It was worn by as brave a soldier boy As ever fought for Dixie with R. E. Lee. GEMS OF POESY i^j THE CALL OF THE NORTH. T CHARLES BLACKIE. HE Northland is calling its children, The north wind whispers come : And wild geese soaring northward seems to say "Oh, come with us to the Northland, For spring is surely here, And nature wears her grandest garb today. Come, come away to the Northland, The place of solitude, Where for long months King Winter held his sway But now the kingfisher is heard ; The bittern sounds his drum And the swallows flit the twilight hours away. The nighthawk sounds his challenge, As he wheels on noisy wing ; The loon's laugh breaks the solitude of night. The sturgeons leap and gambol Among the mirror lakes, And the waterfalls are foaming fierce and white. The beaver now repairs his dam, And muskrats dig their den, The swamp and hills are trembling with life ; The grouse's thunder sounds afar. And mating wood doves coo. The chattering squirrels wage a noisy strife. So let us away to the Northland, For nature calls us, dear, And we shall love the long sweet summer through ; But when the autumn comes again And drives the birds away We will return again to friends as true. 138 GEMS OF POESY MY MADONNA. Y HOWARD BECK REED. ES, she was of marvelous beauty, Not a beauty of this earth, For her features were sO' saintly That when I would think her worth To my mind would come the angel Buonarroti's genius knew In the block of virgin marble, — As he looked the image grew. And when I did call her sweetheart — 'Twas a right that all allowed — It seemed like a. noisome upstart, As in church a whisper loud ; And a sacrilegious shaming, As of tainting some pure shrine. Would come o'er me as in naming This angelic being mine. And as if in palliation — Half in awe and half in love — I would join a world creation With a spirit from above, — For I used to call my darling A Madonna — this she seemed, As her golden tresses dancing Like a heavenly halo beamed. But one day with passionate weeping At my feet herself she flung. With unworded groans and sobbing, Sappho-like her sorrow sung. My Madonna then I called. At the silence was appalled. Said with pity those who'd seen : "Not Madonna. — ^Magdalene !" GEMS OF POESY ijg ON TEN-MILE RIVER. o MARY KENT FLINT. N Ten-Mile river's lovely stream The snowy lilies rock and dream; Where like a ribbon's silken sheen The waters wind through meadows green ; Here wild azaleas fringe its banks, And there the pine tree's time-worn ranks. Ten miles of beauty, breeze and bloom ! Ten miles of Nature's wild perfume ! Oh I recall one perfect hour When youth and hope were still our dower, We drifted idly with the tide, Wild blossoms trailing by our side. We watched the glowing twilight die Adown the darkening western sky ; The moon arose and cast its beam, A silver path athwart the stream. With laugh and jest and merry song We sailed the purling stream along; We lightly touched the sweet guitar — A nightbird answered from afar. Where now are they who sailed that night Beneath the moonbeam's mystic light, Who watched the gliding waters go. Nor ever marked Time's swifter flow? Ah ! some went east, some wandered west. And one is laid in lowly rest ; One dwells afar where mountains rise To greet the ever-smiling skies — O nevermore for eyes of thine Shall those lilies bloom, those waters shine ; Thy fate to sit with folded wing And hide thv saddened heart — and sine. 140 G E M S O F POESY TOMORROWS VICTORIES ARE WON TODAY. R DR. R. ANNA SCHERMERHORN. EM EMBER you must be up and doing If tomorrow you would win, And never wait for others, But be ever on the wing. For life is short and time is fleeting And we must lead the way If we would reach the goal We started for today. In youth our hopes and aspirations Often soar up to the sky, But as we older grow they wane And I often wonder why ; Far down the coming ages, In the cycles yet to come, There is work for all to do. For work is never done. If we wish to win the laurels And reach the goal for which we start In the long and weary journey We must always do our part. And now remember every day To do the best you always can, And tomorrow will bring its victory, For you'll e'er be in the van. GEMSOFPOESY 141 CHRISTMAS CAROL. F. RAY BROWN. o N Judea's star-lit plain Shepherds heard the glad acclaim, On that early Christmas morn When the infant Christ was born. Heav'nly hosts above their carols sang, Through the air the anthems rang ; Angels said, "Fear not, behold I bring Tiding of the new-born King ?" "Peace on earth, good-will to men," O'er and o'er they chant again ; Multitudes kept on to say, "Christ, the Lord, is born this day. Gloiy, glory to the new-born King, Joy to you on earth I bring !" Shepherds left their flocks and came to see Jesus — friend of you and me. Wise men came from far away. Bringing gifts in great display. Guided by the one bright star, Trav'ling from the East afar ; In the lowly manger there they found Christ, the Babe of great renown, For the prophets long ago had said, "His shall be a lowly bed." Christmas bells ring out the news, Christ is born unto the Jews ; ^ Ring, ring, ring, ring loud and clear. Listen, worlds, all nations hear ! Savior, Friend, Redeemer, Lord and King, Tongues break forth, all people sing ; Christ is come to save us from our sins, Lamb of God where love begins! 142 GEMS O F P O E SY SONG OF THE ORIOLE. o LOUISE ARMSTRONG BRISTOL. RIOLE, Oriole, on the bough swinging! What is the theme of your marvelous singing? Now on the tree-top, now on the tower, Now on the sun-dial, now on the sunflower; While ever the dulcet note floats from your magic throat, Oriole, oriole ! What do you say ? Beautiful, beautiful ! All the world beautiful ! Oreo, oreo. o lo la lay ! Bird of the golden breast, clasped by its crimson vest, No riven heart note throbs m your mellow throat ; No sigh of anguish for bright hopes that languish, No wail of broken vow sobs in your lay. Oriole, oriole ! bird of glad summertime ! Oriole, oriole, what do you say? Beautiful, beautiful ! All the world beautiful ! Oreo, oreo, o lo la lay ! Beautiful, beautiful, all the world beautiful, Balmy the breezes and fragrant the flowers ; All nature is cooing and singing and wooing, While warm fall the sunbeams and soft fall the showers. Bright water glancing, green leaves are dancing, Oriole, oriole, here's what I say: Beautiful, beautiful ! All the world beautiful ! Oreo, oreo, o lo la lay! GEMS OF POESY 143 H MEMORIES. ALICE DA\IS MOODY. OW the old days seem to glisten ]n the sunlight of today, How their tender memories linger 'Round our present way. Ah! how jealously we guard them From the world's cold, taunting sneer; For as years on years have vanished They've become but doubly dear. How we still cling to our idols, Fearing they may turn to clay, And like friends who died and left us. They, too, might be laid away. Oh, the little gifts and tokens ! The sweet smile, tlie loving word. And the deep, deep wells of feeling That they in our bosoms stirred. How we prize them, how we love them, As we did in days long past ; They will hold the heart in bondage While our da}- of life shall last. We could give up all our treasures. All our hopes and vain desires, But the memories, — oh, the memories ! We keep fresh as altar fires. And will, till we enter Heaven, Till we cross the "crystal sea ;" And, who knows ! We still may take them With us through Eternity. 144 GEMS OF POESY THE LITTLE OUTCAST. LUELLA OTT. ^HE twilight shades were falling, The street was white with snow, By the roadside stood a child — She had nowhere to go. The little outcast's feet were bare, Her clothes were scanty, old and worn ; The shawl upon her head was torn, Protecting not her golden hair. From an old church across the way An organ pealed forth a lay — She listened while her eyes grew bright. As the church's shining lights. Then slowly she crossed the slippery street, The cold snow biting her little feet, — And pausing at the door, looked in. While the organ played its sacred hymn. At dawn upon the steps she lay, As cold as was her bed of stone ; No tears would damp her cheeks that day. Her little soul had found a home. G E M S O F P O E SY 145 THE OLD CHURCH BELLS OF HOME. MRS. LIZZIE F. STANLEY. ^AR away across the waters, From my childhood home I roam, And the glimpses of my childhood And dear faces of my home Follow me, tho' years have vanished Since I crossed that threshold worn. And I heard those bells resounding Thro' the home where I was born. Yet those sounds o'er memory stealing Stay with me where e'er I roam. For in dreams I hear the pealing Of those old church bells of home. Oh, those old church bells, I love them ! Tho' they chime beyond the sea ; And those days of happy childhood Are forever gone from me. Tho' I toss on fevered pillow. Or midst strangest scenes I roam, Still in dreams I hear the pealing Of those old church bells of home. With their silvery notes resounding Sweetly thro' the Sabbath air ; Or, when even shadows gathered, We would kneel by mother's chair. And, as those church beHs were wafting Praise and prayer to Heaven above, We would listen to the teaching Prompted by the mother love. Land and sea may always sever, Ever from that home may roam, Yet in dreams I'll always hear them, Hear those old church bells of home. 146 GEMS OF POESY LOST AT SEA. CHAS. H. KABRICH. The Steamer "Portland," plying between Boston and Portland, Me., was lost in a blizzard off Cape Cod on Sunday morning, Nov. 27, 1897. It was said that the captain of the steamer sailed con- trary to orders, but this statement was doubted. All on board were lost ; many of the bodies were recovered by the life savers and others along the beach. O CRUEL was their fate, and mournful is the tale Of the staunch steamer "Portland, her passengers and crew. That awful Sabbath morn, and the fierce raging gale Will be sadly remembered by fond hearts and true. Only the previous evening she proudly steamed away ; On board were happy souls who* had said adieu To dear ones, and forever ; 'twas their final parting day ; May they meet each other again beyond the blue. How could a gallant captain his orders disregard. With so many precious human lives at stake? He may have erred in judgment, as human, though 'twas hard And it makes the heart with grief and anguish ache ; And to think that they should meet such fatal doont. Beyond the reach of friendly, helping hands. So soon to bear the forms in sorrow and in gloom From where the waves had tossed them on the sands. Many a home is darkened ; the grief is hard to bear, And missing is each well remembered face. Some father, sister, brother, some wife or sweetheart fair, No more will greet the loved with fond embrace. Their voices are hushed forever ; their griefs and cares are o'er ; God grant them rest and peace on the other side In a fairer, safer harboT, on a brig-hter, better shore, Where there are nO' fearful storms, no wrecks, nor tide. GEMS OF POESY 14^ THE CHILD'S LAMENT. JESSIE HOLBROOK BACON. LITTLE child from her sleep one night Awoke in sad alarm : — "Mama, I'm afraid and dreaming, Please take me in your arms. I thought I heard papa coming, He surely must be near ; I guess he would think me a big girl now, It's so long since he was here." CHORUS. *T want to find my papa, And tell him to come home, For we're so sad and lonely When he is gone so long." "I know he must be bu^y, Or he wouldn't stay away. 'Cause he knows I'm always watching To run and meet him on the way. I only wish he would come home And stay a little while, For then I would be happy And perhaps, mama, you might smile." The mother's heart was aching. As she held the child to her breast, The little one not knowing That in the churchyard her papa lay at rest; She thinks he must be busy, Or he would come to her. For she says she knows he's lonesome Without his little eirl. 148 GEMS OF POESY I'M WEARY TONIGHT. D MRS. L. KENSHAW. EAR mother, I'm weary tonight, I long for your care as of old, To list to my prayer my sorrows to bear, While my hand in your own you hold. I'm weary tonight, for the years Have brought many a sorrow and pain ' The world is so wide and such dangers betide, — I long for your counsel again. I'm no longer a child at your knee. And silver is threading my hair ; But I'm childish tonight, and I wish that I might Sit again at your side in the chair. I'd tell you the tale of the past, Of my hopes and my failures as well, And I know for your sake a new trial I'd make To conquer whatever befell. Dear mother, 'tis surely a dream, — The days that are vanished and gone Since I missed from my life, with its trials and strife, The love that hallowed its dawn. I'm listening tonight as you sing ; Your voice seems so tender and true That I join in the song and seem wafted along Till I'm singing in Heaven with you. GEMS Of POESY 149 TRUE FRIENDSHIP. w MRS. LAURA BARNETT MUNDEN. HEN we meet it is with pleasure. When we part it is with pain ; ^ A true friend we always treasure, As though we ne'er shall meet again. A true friend is something rare, A jewel however small ; Yet when you are placed in the tempter's snare Be careful, you do not fall. As you go down the sands of time, You'll find your friends are few ; They will generally tell you as the rhyme To paddle your own canoe. But, my dear friends, both great and small. Be sure you paddle aright ; For our Heavenly Father rules over all, Through the power of the infinite. We should ever be careful to steer our bark Straight headed for yon bright shore ; Then our cloudless sky will never grow dark, But shine briofht forevermore. 1^0 GEMS OF POESY I MY OLD DAKOTA HOME. ALBERT H. ESKES. 'M returning- now to my dear old home, To scenes of my childhood days, Where I roamed about of my own sweet will, In free and careless ways. And as I view the old homestead, My heart leaps high with joy, For my dear old mother is waiting there To greet her only boy. CHORUS. My home, my old Dakota home. For you my heart beats free and light ; Now dry your tears, dear mother. And weep no more tonight. For I will leave no more This world at large to roam. Fve come back to you, dear mother, And my old Dakota home. M}' mother was standing in the doorway. Smiling through her tears. And she clasped me to her bosom. As she did in bygone years. Oh, it thrills me through and through With rapture and delight To know my dear old mother With joy is filled tonight. There's the old fashioned porch, And the old arm chair That my mother used to use years ago, When she sat out there as the harvest moon In fullness o'er the hilltops shone. Old memories 'round me linger — I've come back to you, dear mother. And my old Dakota home. GEMS OF POESY 151 THE WRECK ON THE CHOWAX RI\'ER. MRS. M. W. FELTON. JT^WAS a wild and stormy night on the Carolina coast, X Wrathful winds and waves unite like some grim embat- tled host. And no human hand could stay that relentless tempest's sway ; Nor could earthly aid deliver from that wreck on the river. There were sobs and direful fears on a gallant little craft, Wails of anguish, shrieks and tears, but the cruel storm king laughed. Anguished pleadings all were vain, for that good ship, parting twain, With a crash and a quiver was a wreck on the river. When the rescue party went their sad mission to survey, How their kindly hearts were rent, speech may not such thoughts portray ; But they saw a little maid had trustfully, unafraid, — Tend'rest, yet the bravest there — knelt 'mid that storm in prayer. Her dimpled hands, though icy cold and toss'd by the restless spray, She still clasp't in rev'rent fold — the spirit was far away. Bands of angels flying low gently beckonedi her to go, Borne upon their shining wings where eternal summer sings. Rapturous pause to life's woes ! O Father, bend from above, And may 1 from all dangers so turn for repose to the sheltering arms of thy love. Do thyself in such nearness to my heart reveal. That in prayer by my bedside I may as trustingly kneel. Grant me such beautiful faith, O beneficent Giver - • As thou gav'st 'mid that wreck on the Chowan rivjr. 152 GEMS OF POESY I WILL SEEK THAT WHICH WAS LOST. (EZEKIEL 34-16) w LUCV HARRINGTON JOHNSON. hen o'er the vast mountains of sin I had wandered, Afar from the Shepherd, afar from the fold, At last, all a-weary, when night-shades closed 'round me, No shelter was nigh from the storm and the cold. Alone on the bleak hills, 'mid darkness and danger, My soul in despair knew not whither to go, When clearly there rang, through the silence of midnight, A Voice kind and cheering, to me in my woe. 'Twas the voice of the Shepherd seeking the lost one, * 'Come hither ! come hither ! my wandering child ; Yea, give me thy hand, I will guide thee and bring thee Again to the pastures beyond the dark wild." Then, groping along the sharp ledges so near me, ' There gleamed forth a light, so steady and clear ; I soon found the path and rejoicingly followed. For I knew that the fold and the Shepherd were near. GEMS OF POESY 153 DRIVEN FROM HOME, \VM. E. SHII'MAX. A Maiden wandered from her home one cold December night Her father on her head his curse had thrown. His wish had been for her to wed an aged man of wealth, He bade her and it caused her heart to mokn. She said, "I do not love him and I cannot be his wife. Now' father, please do not angry with me be. " But in his rage he cursed her and turned her from his door, And as she left her home he heard her say: — "O father, you have turned me from my home. But as through this world alone I roam. When I have passed from sight you will oft think of the night, Father, when yoii turned me from my home. " Just one year has passed away, beneath the white light's glare A maiden fair has fallen by the way ; For her heart is broken and her health is failing fast And soon from earthly cares she'll pass away. Her father has repented and is searching for his child, — He finds her dying in an attic drear. He says, "My child, forgive me those harsh words I said. " She replies, "You are forgiven, father dear. "I am going now to rest, God does all things for the best, O father, promise me when I am gone, You'll not tell mother I did wrong. Kiss me, father, I am going- now to rest. " IS4 GEMS OF POESY OUR MARTYRED PRESIDENT. MRS. N. SPRINGER YOUNG. 'RO'M sea to sea the mournful sound Of tolling bell has rolled, And drooping flags and weeping eyes A nation's grief have told. An honored chief is mute in death And slain by demon's hand. One common gloom is resting now Upon the fatherland. Columbia, weeping calls her sons To guard her shores for aye That anarchy no more may land Nor through her borders stray. The call is made to loyal sons, Let all reply as one ; Each true American deplores The awful deed that's done. Let no more rulers swell the list Of those already slain ; Let not again the nation's heart Be rent with grief and shame. Let every evil spring that flows Be watched with sleepless care. Before its poison streams have reached An ocean of despair. G E M S O F P O E SY 155 OUR PRESIDENT. CARRIE A. CRANDALL. OD bless our president, The ruler of our land ; God bless our president, May wisdom guide his hand. With dignity and justice , May he guide our nation's fate; With dignity and justice May we on his judgment wait. No ship with costlier cargo Ever plowed the seas of time Than the ship of state he's guiding; May it's record prove sublime ! Then behold, O foreign nations, — Then behold what freedom's wrought- With no tyrant for our master — Service, — loyal and love-taught. We uphold our chief with vigor, Only human, but our chief — God save president and nation From tempestuous, war-tossed reef. What of faction, what of party? What of chism and what of creed, When a man whom all dare honor Struggles for our nation's need ! Then, O masses, toilers, brothers, Raise your voices loud in song. Bless, O God, our nation's leader. Let no alien dO' him wrong-. 156 G E M S O F P O E SY DREAMING. JESSIK L. DANIELS. I am dreaming of a loved one That has gone beyond recall, I am dreaming of the happy days of yore, Of the many golden hours That we roamed among the flowers When roses and the violets were in bloom. But today I'm sad and lonely As I'm sitting all alone And I long to see my loved one's form again, — Just to hear her whisper softly As she did in by gone days, Just to see the smiling face that I adore. I can see her standing there, Where we stood long, long ago. I can hear her whisper softly as a dove, As we pledged both hand and heart And we vowed we'd never part As the silvery moon shone upon us from above. But that voice is silent now And the dear form Is at rest In the village churchyard just across the way. And I'm lt:)nging there to sleep With my sweetheart side by side, And in Heaven see her smiling face again. GEMS OF POESY 157 CHRISTMAS THOUGHTS. WELLINGTON AU GUSTIN. A JOLLY day is coming soon, For I hear the howling of the wind, Glancing around the house at north And east that leaves glad thoughts behind. Oh, happy children, bright and gay are gathered 'round The blazing fires that're roaring up the chimney flues, While howling winds are blowing o'er snow-covered ground — Enough to make one shudder, shake and have the blues ! But this is a winter day ; And it's December, a gay and happy month for all. When feelings bad and dull, by thoughts must flight and fall, For everyone is gaily waiting for a call From old St. Nick so gay Who cannot stay Away! The days are passing swiftly on, A joyous one will soon be here. And which is this? ah, Christmas day ! The merriest, jolliest of the year. The children, thinking of their presents soon to be, Are nestled snug and warmly in their beds tonight ; Think of their happy dreams about the Christmas tree, And Santa Claus — the saint of all that's good and bright. This is a winter night ; But all these cold and stormy winds will blow away. And the dreary hours will fade into a brighter day By thoughts of that glad time, when Santa and his sleigh Will come our way all right And bid that bright "Good night!". 138 GEMS O F P O E SY THREE LOVES. I REGINA ALLEN. am musing again, as I often have done, And am thinking of Hfe and its pain; I dwell on love and the course it has run And follow along in its train. There's the first love dream of the maiden fair, Whose birth makes her life so sweet; A haven of rest to the happy pair As their lips in kisses meet. There's the grand deep love that's born above, That the mother feels for her child, — The only love that soars like a dove. And keeps the passions mild. There's another love that oft times sweeps O'er the woman's heart and claims place ; His voice is so deep he may cause her to weep, But ah ! how she studies his face. He is gentle, but master all the while. And his love floods the woman's heart; He can make her sigh, he can make her smile, Of her very life he seems part. And thus it is that Cupid's bow Rules this great grand world of ours ; He playfully aims his arrows low And wreaths life with choicest flowers. GEMS OF POESY 159 DOWN WITH RUM. o E. W. SINCLAIR. H, my comrade, see the demon, Strong drink from the still. Save the children from destruction. By God's help we will. CHORUS. Down with rum ! his power is falling, Close down every still. Save the children from destruction! By God's help we will. See that broken hearted mother, . Once had happy home ; Now saloons get husband's wages, Children starve at home. See that proud and stately lawyer. Heard in Congress hall ; Now he cannot get elected. Rum has made him fall. See that highly honored soldier, Bravest of the brave. Raged reeling in the street And laid in drunkard's grave. Hear that broken hearted mother, Hear her bitter wail ! Children dead and she forsaken, Husband is in jail. Drive the strong drink from the nation. For it leads to sin ; The saloon is Satan's college, Do not enter in. Will you save your neighbor's children — Will you save your own — From the cursed drink temptation Before thev are gone? i6o GEMS OF POESY I NOW. NANNIE J. RASKINS. F you have a gentle word, Say it now ; If you have a smile to give, Give it now ; Helping others on the way. For our Savior's love today Seeks for those who go astray ; God is love. If your sky today is bright, Then you may Make some other's burden light On your way ; Gather flowers rich and rare, Throwing fragrance on the air. Always plenty and to spare ; Give away. If you know a cheering song You may sing, And to some poor despairing soul Courage bring ; Like the sunshine, air and rain, Giving life and soothing pain ; You shall reap the golden grain Bye and bye. Do to others as you would They to you ; It is written in His word God is true. In His balance He will weigh Every deed and word you say. Will reward you some sweet day Up above. GEMS OF POESY i6i AN EVENING REVERIE. A JOHN ROBERT BOYD. S I sat alone one evening, Vaguely thinking of the past, Scenes of happy da^^s of childhood Crowded memory thick and fast. Scenes of orchards' fragrant beauty, Songs 'of birds and hum of bees ; Luscious fruits of gold and crimson, Weighing down the limbs and trees. Scenes of sunny slopes and pastures, Lazy cows and clink of bells ; Winding paths along the hillside, Through the woods and shady dells. Scenes of meadows in the springtime, Like a verdant carpet spread ; Dotted here and there with flowers — - Gold and purple, white and red. And the brooklet rushing onward. Always busy, never done. And the love-vines growing by it. Reaching up to kiss the sun. Scenes of fields of blooming clover. Nodding corn and waving grain — These were days, had I the choosing, I would live o'er once again. i62 GEMS OF POESY I THE AWAKENING. EARL COAN. SAT alone in the gloaming, And watched the shadows play, And list to the voice of ev'ning In echoes far away. Then a vision grasped my mem'ry; In bounds it sped away, And I seemed to be forever In everlasting day. I heard the voice of the angels, They sang in sweet accord ; I thought of the world of troubles And this a fit reward. Then the vision quickly vanished, The shadows made their way; Alone I sat in the gloaming And heard the joyful lay. 'Twas the sound of children singing. They sang sweet childhood's lay, And the music floated thither And brightened e'en the day. It carried me back to childhood. Those happy days of yore ; And it seemed again the morning With blessings sweet and pure. It was then I saw the grandeur Of childliood's happy day ; Then a hand came from the shadows And beckoned me away. GEMS Of POESY 163 SOME DAY I'LL WANDER BACK AGAIN. MISS CALLIE PARKER. OME day I'll wander back again, Back to my dear old home Where my little feet first learned to tread And the hills and valleys roamed ; Where my little hands first learned to pluck The violets wet with dew, And I wonder if I shall see again The friends that once I knew. Chorus : Some day I'll wander back again, — Yes, back to my dear old home ; For I long for the faces once so dear And the haunts where I used to roam. Sometimes within my midnight dreams I'm standing all alone Beneath my low roofed cottage home. But the loved ones are all gone. The birds are singing just the same, And the roses bloom both white and red ; But my dear, dear parents are not there; They are sleeping, silent, with the dead. I wonder who will meet me there, By the little cottage gate. That once I used to linger by And for some loved one wait. Cheer up, faint heart, don't lose thy faith, For there's a promise given That those who are lost to us on earth We'll find again in Heaven. i64 GEMS OF POESY T HOME ABOVE. CEO. W. FRIEDLINE. HERE is a home above the skies, Where saints with God are blest ; And all who meet at God's right hand Shall ever be at rest. Chorus. Oh that home, that beautiful home. Golden city above. Where the weary pilgrim shall rest In that Canaan of love. Though dark and stormy be the way Of travelers here below, There shines a ray, a spark of day, From that bright home above. Millions earth's rugged road have trod, And perched their banners high, And sailed on dark and stormy seas To worlds beyond the sky. Oh that home, peaceful home of rest. The Paradise of God, — And all who love the Lord on earth In Heaven shall dwell with God. GEMS OF POESY 165 GRETCHEN'S REPLY. c EMMIE LUCAS BASS. OME wee maiden Gretchen, with big eyes so brown, Let's watch the old moon from the clouds looking down. Like a great solemn eye she stares from the sky, With never a blink or mischievous wink. Say, what do you think of the moon ? When I was a wee, sunny maiden like you They told me this story, — do you think it was true ? * How one Sunday a sinner picked up wood to cook dinner, Then swift through the air they sent him up there. Do you think 'tis a man in the moon ? Or maybe some giant who lives in the sky, While blowing soap bubbles, blew one up so high. It lies there so light if you'll blow with your might You could move it, — just prove it. Then what would you think of the moon ? Then wee maiden Gretchen, with big eyes so brown, Looked up while her forehead was tucked with a frown. "Aunt Emmie, you don't know one bit 'bout the moon ; I knew, and I'll tell you what 'tis pretty soon. 'Tis a hole in the floor of heaven, you see, — The angels they bored it, to peep out at me. They just say 'Good night' 'fore God puts out the light. Now that's what I think of the moon. i66 GEMS OF POESY THE LAND OF REST. MRS. E. J. REED. 'HERE is a country far away Where we all wish to go, Where days are endless, some do say, And yet no one dqes know. That country is the land of rest, Where saints and angels dwell ; There's none that enters but the best. Still none come back tO' tell. I've many a friend that's gone before, That's crossed the crystal stream ; They're waiting for me upon that shore, A shore by faith oft seen. It's not a costly prize to gain. It's ask, believe and you'll receive; And be forever free from pain And never, never more will grieve. My friends, it's for your good, not mine, I wish to speak the words I feel ; Could you just now your heart incline To say, "I'll trust and claim His seal." Have we trusted all in Him today. This very day. this very time; The leaden clouds will pass away And the sun more brightlv shine. GEMS OF POESY 167 THE HOUND'S DEFEAT. JVl (Abridged.) GROVER STANLEY REMOW. Y HEART is strongly stirred tonight, As I stand alone in the moon's pale light ; From the side of the grassy hill Comes the plaintive cry of a whip-poor-will ; The nightbird screams in the valley deep, While all other sounds seem fast asleep ; The dewdrop sparkles on leaf and flower In the silent realms of the midnight hour. Now from afar comes a faint low sound, 'Tis the solemn bay of a baffled hound ; Now from the copse of a wooded dell Comes a rustling on the night's soft swell, And the timid fawn snifTs as he turns around To listen to the bay of the far-off hound, — From the shelter of his wild retreat Calmly views the hound's defeat. The hound's hoarse bay grows fainter still Among the wilds of the far off hill. With tired limbs and bleeding feet He rests from the chase and owns defeat, And as toward home his steps are turned He seeks the rest so nobly earned ; The fire of hope is burning low, Vanquished is a noble foe. The hound, in his kennel, is resting now ; In the copse the fawn has a refuge found. And from the side of the grassy hill Comes the plaintive cry of the whip-poor-will. The nightbird screams in the valley deep. While all other sounds seem fast asleep : The dewdrop sparkles on leaf and flower In the silent realms of the midnight hour. i68 GEMS OF POESY JESUS MY OWN LENA E. ATWOOD. ESUS, my own, in the morning- hours When all earth's gladness is smiling ; Jesus, my own, 'midst the sunshine and flowers And never a shadow discerning. Fair, fair is the winsome day. Sweet is the breath from the meadows ; Jesus, my own, on youth's joyous way And not once a thought of dark morrows. Jesus, my own, when the storm clouds rise. Marring my life with their blackness ; Jesus, my own, with His pure loving eyes Now seeking for me through the darkness. High, high, rolls the angry wave, As a deep sorrow o'er whelms me Jesus, my own. Thou art coming to save And bring peace as Thou walkest the sea. Jesus, my own, at the quiet noontide When life is richest and fullest ; Jesus, my own. Thou art still by my side As Thou wert in the dark tempee-t Calm, calm is now my soul. And peaceful the hour of midday. Jesus, my own, as the years of life roll Since Thou guidest me all the long way. Jesus, my own, at the sunset grand. Glowing with splendor serenest ; Jesus, my own, with His outstretched hand. Bids me to come to him and rest. Blest, blest is the even fall, Home and the Father's arms waiting. Jesus, my own, my all in all. With angels and loved ones waiting. GEMS 01^ POESY i6g THE LONELY NEWSBOY. I FLORENCE GlESEKER. N the heart of the busy city, In the noisy bustling street, A little boy stands in silence, Rago-ed, hungry and weak, Calling out to people "Papers ! Please buy one, give me a start. " Many people did not heed him, While he stood there calling loud. Except a little maiden, who was richly gowned. She looked at him so earnestly, Then passed on slowly ahead. She's thinking of the little lad who looked so lone and sad. On reaching the next corner She stopped and, gazing round. Beheld the same little figure Still patiently calling loud For some one to buy a paper And just give him a start. As he sat on the curbstone eating His bread left from yesterday, He ate with great satisfaction His meal so sad and lone. And in his heart he was wishing For a cosy and happy home. Once more he started again to call. In a loud and more cheerful way. For some one to buy his papers So he'd have a place to stay. Again came the smiling maiden. Saying, "I'll buy them if you say." no GEMS OF POESY MY DEAR SUNNY HOME ON THE HILLSIDE. O! FLORA WILLIAMS WOOD. MY dear sunny home on the hillside, Where I romped and roamed when a child, Where the old fashioned flowers blooiiied in glory, And the blackberry vines grew wild, And the birds and the bees flew around them. Ah ! Happy and bright were they. Take me back to my home on the hillside And there for a night let me stay. Just to sleep once more in the old home, To dream like a child once more ; So sweetly to sleep 'neath the portals Where honeysuckles droop 'roimd the door. There to dream sweet dreams as in childhood, In the moonlight warm and bright. Take me back to my home on the hillside To be a child once more for a night. ! Let me hear my mother's lullaby, As she sang to sleep little Joe. Let me hear my father's whistle, As he gaily went forth to mow The grain that grew in abundance On the hillside and the plain. I'd return once more to the old home Just to hear those sweet songs again. For I long once more to visit The brook where the sweet briar grows, To wander far in the woodland. O ! It's pleasure there's no one knows. 1 would fill my hat with the beechnuts, Where the brush grows thickest and wild. I would roam o'er the very same places Where I used to romp when a child. GEMS OF POESY 171 A SCIENCE THANKSGIVING DINNER. EVA RUiMBAUGH. rH' pig an' the childer an' me were alone, Fer Bridget, me wife, to th' "Bastile" had gone; Oi was havin' her trated fer a very light "Claim" Whin a dochter stepped in an' says, "She's insane." When th' house got dirty while Bridget was gone Oi shoveled th' dirt while Oi strangled a moan; In such toimes to be in "Scoience" is a relafe, Fer you're clane whin you're dirty is the belafe. Whin the sthrike was ordered things got worse, Th' childer were ragged an' hungry, of course. Hooray, thin, fer "Scoience," Oi committed no sin Whin Oi tould pryin' neighbors there was coal in th' bin. One day they let Biddy come back to our home, Oi had to "demonstrate" in me heart there was room Fer me joy, fer was not Bridget an artist an' rich? Faith she'd learned while away to do paintin' an' sich. But Biddy's first words as she gazed, Oi belave. On the naked childer, "If you had as lave, Oi will wear your clothes while you slape thro' th' day An' put mine on th' childer. I^ow, what do ye say?" "Did they stale your things down there? Oh, Biddy, don't cry, Ye know ye are always th' loight of me eye." To jolly her a bit Oi says, "Now is your chance. To thry for an office while ye wear me pants." "Pat, dear, just put our talk into rhoimes An' I'll dress in a shate while ye take 'em to the 'Toimes.' Ye must get something fer thim, Pat, ye poor sinner, Or else we must 'demonstrate' a Thanksgivin' dinner." We were "Scointists," Bridget an' me. We said we were happy whin in trouble, ye see ; ^ Now in toimes of trouble it is sich a relafe To have what ve can call a reliable belafe. n2 GEMS OF P O E S V OUR LIFE IS ALL A SONG. o HAUSIS KIRVEN. SING to me of heaven, Ere I am called to die ; Sing songs of joy and ecstacy To guide me to the sky. On earth all should be joy, Why mix in pain or care ? Let truth's sweet tones our lips employ, Our actions all sweet prayer. The sweet sunshine of your soul Lights up some face of woe ; Think purest thoughts, your face to mold, Plant happiness where e'er you go. Sing now to me of heaven, Don't wait until I die ; For earth is but the garden place To grow us to the sky. That hour we all call death Is but a newborn life ; We shed our coils, we change our breath, We quit this earth born strife. Yes, sing to me of heaven Before I'm called to go ; Burst forth in strains of joyfulness, For heaven begins below ! GEMS OF POESY ns MEMORIES OF THE OLD HOME AND MOTHER. Y LEAXORE POWELSON BRABSON. ES, thinking tonight of the old home My mother I can see as of yore. Oh, 'tis sad to recall these memories, What was dear to me is gone forevermore. Of the noise and din of city life I'm weary, How happy I would be could I return To my old home among the hills of Pennsylvania, ^ And with my dear old mother there sojourn. Oh, the old home now is gone forever. All its joys and sorrows are now severed from my life ; And perhaps it will be brighter in the morning When are ended all the toil and earthly strife. But then, I think these memories bring me nearer To my heavenly home, just beyond the skies ; And it is there I'll meet my angel mother With Jesus, who will wipe all tears from my eyes. n4 GEMS O F P O E SY W SMILE-LAND. WILLIAM P. KYLE. HEN your path in life seems dark, Smile it into Smile-land. Be ye captain of your barque, Smile it into Smile-land. Smile away the thorns which grow On your pathway here below And let love's warming; sunshine fiow, — Smile it into Smile-land. Smile when troubles darkly roll. Smile it into Smile-land ; You are not the only troubled soul, Smile it into Smile-land. Smile and then a smile receive. And, oh ! the troubles you relieve. For weary souls on you believe, wSmile it into Smile-land. Smile — there's nothing half so sweet. Smile it into Smile-land. Smile, and then a smile you'll meet. Smile it into Smile-land. Don't o'er your troubles fall and weep, Nor crowd your life with idle sleep ; For what you sow you are sure to reap, Smile it into Smile-land. Smiles are the language of the soul, Smile it into Smile-land. A telepathic message from thy goal, Smile it intO' Smile-land. Smile and wield the golden rod. Smile while dreaming lilies nod, Smile thy soul to Heaven and God. Smile it into Smile-land. GEMS OF POESY ijs H CORONATION ODE. DAVID M. T. POWELL. AIL, all glory to the Eternal King! Help us, Lord, to sing this day In solemn anthems and voices ring, Ever mindful to watch and prax" That Thou may in righteousness lead Thro' all changes, water or fire, In his beloved and revered mother's stead Him who now reigns over this Empire. Loudly roars the lion of old Albion, For this day will be crowned a king. Of his mother's house a noble scion ; Then in martial strain and hymns we sing. May he ever be true and just. Long may he reign to lead us forward And like an emperor finish his trust. God bless our noble King Edward. Come, ye ancient mariners so bold, Braves of Neptune's sons, I ween, — Come, ye Northmen, warriors of old. To do homage this day to Britain's Queen. Beautiful Alexandria we are proud to call her: Long may she live and reign ; And with our king together May God's blessing ever remain. At Thy mandate heroes assemble. When liberty's form stands in view ; Thy banners make tyrants to tremble, For thy cause is ever just and true. May the empire united ne'er sever, But always to its colors prove true. Britannia's flag will wave forever. And make her enemies ever rue. n6 GEMS OF POESY WITHIN THE GARDEN, SINGING. LOUISA ARMSTRONG BRISTOL. I HEAR her voice within the garden, singing, As down the aisles she strays among the flowers^ While all the summer winds are softly bringing Their fragrant trophies to the sun-lit bowers. The birds are silent on the boughs above her. The bees lie mute within their blossom beds ; And as her singing voice comes floating over The roses sway, -and smile, and bow their heads. Oh ! keeper of my breaking heart's best treasure, Draw near and gird it with Love's magic band ; Nor give me dole, nor stint, but fullest measure ; Within mine own she lays her trusting hand. The glory of the heavens is bending o'er us, The light that never was on land nor sea. And birds and bee and breeze have joined in chorus. To chant a paean for the joys to be. GEMS OF POESY ni I AM THINKING, GEORGE, OF YOU, DEAR. I IDA C. HAMMARLOF. N the twilight's deepening shadow Of a day now gone to rest I am thinking, fondly thinking Of the days of long ago. In the river's gentle murmur. Swiftly gliding to the sea, I can hear a low soft whisper, — 'Tis a message sent from thee. In the twilight's deepening shadow, While the birds sing sweet and low, I am thinking, George, of you, dear. And the days of long ago. I am thinking, George of you, dear, As I near the streamlet stand, — Thinking of those happy days, dear, And the home beyond the strand. n8 G E M S O F P O E S \ I A DREAM. (True.) IDA PENDER PIERSC^N. DREAMED I saw an angel child, And it had wondrous wings ; It folded them across its breast. They were such pretty things. The sprite from out a mirror came, With slow but steady tread. And wrapped me in its dainty wings ; My heart was filled with dread. It raised me quickly from the floor And mounted to the sky. "Oh, is it all of life to live. Or all of death to die?" Up and on away we flew. But not a word it spake. "Oh, God of mercy, save me now !" I cried, "for Jesus' sake." On and on, we soared to Heaven, Earth faded from my sight, And then there burst upon my view A world of dazzling light. I vwike and found 'twas but a dream, The angel child had gone : But, oh, it left a ling'ring hope That reaches to God's throne. GEMS OF POESY ijq THE CHILDLESS HOME. o MRS. ID.\ D.VUB LOWDEK. H, OUR home is sad and lonely Since our little one has flown To the realms of light and glorv, Leaving us on earth alone. How our hearts grew light and joyous When our little one had come Here to bless our humble dwelling, Bringing sunshine to our home. But alas ! one day the reapers. Sent from realms beyond the skies, Bore from earth our darling treasure, — They were searching for a prize. There's a grave but in the orchard Where the grass grows thick and green; O'er it spread the tall trees' branches With sunbeams stealing in between. Oft I sit and watch beside it, Watch the sunbeams come and go; They remind me of our darling, So short his stay seemed here below. Yet a ray of hope is dawning. Which dispels a torturing fear. For we know our babe is dwelling In the world we're drawing near. i8o GEMS OF POESY I WHAT I LIKE. BETH ILAND. LIKE to read a good book In some cosy little nook ; I like to climb a hill With my friendly little Will ; We hear the echoes of our voice, And, child like, onr hearts rejoice. I like to stroll in meadows green, Wild roses and daisies to glean ; I like to row upon the water With some man's son and daughter ; We hear the splashing of the oar, We sing and row and pull for shore. I like music, sweet music, kind. It is so restful to the mind ; I like to sit and dine with friends. Each to another a new thought lends ; And so to live in mutual love Each day nearer the world above. I like pictures on the wall, They are companions for us all ; I like a red fire on a cold winter's night To warm our home and make it bright ; , We can spend many a pleasant hour 'Neath such a roof in mother's bower. I like low green valleys and high mountain peaks, Their wondrous moulding of God plainly speaks. I like to have day dreams when I can. To fathom the meaning of God's holy plan For this rough old world of ours With so many homes and mother's bowers. GEMS Of POESY i8i EYES OF BROWN. MRS. MARY A. HAYES. sweet fair child, scarcely five summers old, A sweet child with brown eyes and hair of gold. Sitting on her loving mother's knee, — "Please, mother dear, sing a song' to me Of the dear papa you so often tell, And how he loved me, yet bade us farewell. Papa, who's gone to wear a bright crown, Who's gone so far to his bright home above And left only you to care for and love His little girlie with eyes of brown." 'Chorus. My darling, I wonder if from heaven he can look down And know the sweet comfort I have found In tenderly caring for his girlie with eyes of brown." "My child, when you were scarcely two years old, Papa was called to wear a crown of gold. You have no papa to sit on his knee, No one Co love or kiss you but me. I will sing a song for girlie and tell Her of the papa we both loved so well. Papa, who's gone to wear a bright crown, Who's gone so far to his bright home above And left only mother to kiss and love His little girlie with eyes of brown. i82 GEMS OF POESY THE WIND AND FATE. JEAN CAMERON-SMITH. OUD sighs the wind through the pines, ' Hid is the moon 'neath a cloud ; Around my heart there entwines Mem'ries that now are a shroud For the hopes that once surged in my hfe, For the fancies with which youth is rife. As I view the pines that sway And moan with each rough caress, Methinks that I hear them say In sorrow and bitterness : — "O wind, what is it you seek to do As you come and whistle our branches through?" "I come," he says in harsh tone, . "To disturb your reverie — Tall as you pines have grown, * Not once have you thought of J\1E, Afid I am the wind, cruel as fate. Never remember'd till it's too late ! "Pines, give me each withered bough. Give me each branch that's weak ; Ah, why do you moan and sough ? Now give them !" I hear him shriek. The sad pines yield, as indeed they must, And many a branch lies in the dust. But the pines live through the blast. Only the weak boughs fall ; And my tears come thick and fast As half-sadly I recall That the hopes that once were so dear to me Did well to fall like weak boughs from a tree. GEMS O F P O E S Y^ 183 I PASSIBUS AEOUIS. JOSEPH MAKINSON. F Voice will sing, must needs make music sweet, If, in its fullest beauty's charming tone, The Voice make melody, the poem, meet Must' be the fittest for the music known. The notes enjoined nutst he in phrases true. And easy, grateful to the singing voice, Then will the tonal beauty, bright and new, Bring out the charms that are the poet's choice. Legato thus applied in varied force, Adds beauty to the thought the poet gives, And when the song has fully run its course, The theme eternal with the music lives. The poet gives the golden thought, as found In Nature's book, he gives it fitting form ; Then, the composer shows the pleasing sound Which, with the thought in Xature first was laoni. Last comes the voice with instrument combined, To give the best expression in the song. And fix eternally within the mind — Installs the soul in pleasure's happv throng. i84 GEMS Oh POESY MY LOVE IN TENNESSEE. I MRS. G. B. COLEMAN. AM thinking of thee, dear, Ever thinking of thee. And no matter what befall, 'Tis you who are my all, Way down in Tennessee. Chonis. I am thinking of thee, Ever thinking of thee ; I am thinking of thee, love, Way down in Tennessee. I am thinking of thee, dear. And I'm shedding bitter tears Because you're so far away, And I fear you'll ever stay. Way down in Tennessee. I am thinking of thee, dear. When the sun is shining clear, And in the dewy eve, dove, I wish my lips could meet, love, Those lips in Tennessee. G E M S O F P O E S y 185 MY DEAR MOTHER D MRS. M. J. HII.L. EAR mother's been laid beneath the clay, How we have missed her every day. Many a secret place would hear her pray That her children might the Savior obey While her body lies in the grave so cold. Our joy and happiness are untold, To know her name is on the roll With Christ the Shepherd amid the fold Clionis. What a happy meeting it will be, it will be, To meet in Heaven and be with thee, and be with thee ; What a happy meeting it will be, it will be, To meet in Heaven and be with thee, and be with thee. Dear mother, in Heaven thou art at rest. With the many millions that have been blessed. And yet thei-e is room for all the rest We'll meet you in Heaven, the last request, Dear mother, sickness and death are o'er, Now on that bright celestial shore Thou can'st gladly praise and adore, Our Redeemer ever more Dear mother, none can fill your place, Your cheerful words and sweet embrace. The vacant chair and smiling face, But death will come on all the race. Farewell, mother, I will meet you there In that world so bright and fair ; May foil through life, but e'er in prayer, Join you and all the loved ones there. 186 GEMS OF POESY SPRING MEMORIES. w MRS. A. E. KEPHART. HEN the maple sap is running And springtime is drawing nigh, It is then we feel young again, My dear old wife and I ; For it brings us sweetest memories Oi the days of long ago, When first we "tended sugar camp" And tramped through melting snow. Oh, the happy days of that dear time, How it makes our hearts aglow, Talking of our happiness Before we knew a woe ; For our lives were all before us And we built our mansions brown As we emptied out the sugar trough And boiled the syrup down. With the pheasants 'round us drumming And the birds twittering nigh, And the squirrels scampering from us, Running up the trees so high ; When all nature seemed to- smile at us And we felt such perfect joy, When life seemed bright and golden And our love knew no alloy. Long years have come and passed away, We have had our trials since then ; Our girls have grown to womanhood. Our boys are all grown men ; But of all life's sweetest memories Of the joys of days of yore Is that of "tending sugar camp" Upon the Ohio's shore. GEMS OF POESY 187 BECAUSE I .LOVED HER SO. RICHARD CONWAY. HERE'S a quiet spot by an old hedge fence, Where a brook runs rippHng by ; There we often sat in the twiUght dim, When the tide of .love ran high. I held her hand and talked of love, In whispers soft and low ; In a fond embrace in that quiet place Because I loved her so. The starlight fell on the quiet town, While the moon rose far away ; The birds had ceased to fill the world With the songs of one sweet day. Our lips drank deep of the love we knew, Where the brook sang sweet and low ; In a fond embrace in that quiet place Because I loved her so. When storms across the evening sky In fury's foam did roll, I sought that spot by the old hedge fence, The haven of my soul. I held her there in the lightning's glare, And thunder rumbling low. In a fond embrace in that quiet place Because I loved her so. In memory now I hold that spot. Most sacred spot of all ; There we stole avv^ay from the strife and care To answer love's sweet call. The world went by 'neath the evening sky. Nor heard our whispers low, In a fond embrace in that quiet place Because I loved her so. 188 GEMS 01^ POESY BENEATH THE MASK. w MRS. LIZZIE E. BENSON. E meet as friends upon the street, But in that glance of glad surprise Heart speaks to heart its language sweet And makes this earth a paradise. The careless crowd knows naught of this, — They do not know that you and I Have deeply drunk of sweetest bliss, Of love, dear heart, that n'er can die. They do not know the stolen hours Our eager hearts devised and planned To meet and love in mystic bowers, — All this they do not understand. They do not, neither would I have them know Of the impassioned love we dare not tell ; But we know its mighty power and so, Dear heart, we wisely mask it well. GEMS OF POESY i8g THE PASSING OF TIME. B. H. BRUFFEY. *HERE is something that's always near, Never all past and never all here, — It's not like a river, now high and now low, But it glides along with the same strong flow. Lengthens the seconds into the year. Steadily bringing an end more near ; Sings us to sleep with accent kind, The passing of time, the passing of time. It wounds us all with sorrow and pain. But it heals our wounds again ; Time always calms the troubled breast, Tireless time, which never rests. It fades the cheek of beauty fair, Fades the cheek and whitens the hair ; Each year to our face it adds a line. The passing of time, the passing of time. We are young and fair today, Tomorrow we are old and gray. Father time, with his reaper grim. Shall some day gather us all to him, — The strong and weak, timid and brave. Shall all be equal in the grave. While over them forever shall roll the line The passing of time, the passing of time. igo GEMS O F P O E SY I CHRISTMAS MEMORIES. L. E. A. SIT here alone by the bright firehght, Oh, so lonely and sad ; 'Tis Christmas Eve, all are happy and bright, 'Tis a time to be merry and glad. But I'm dreaming tonight of loiig ago. And my heart is so sad and drear. When I think of her lying under the snow, — She was all that life held dear. Under the ground she is lying, • O'er her the sad winds moan. While I sit here, sorrowing, sighing, Spending my Christmas alone. Dear heart, you have left me so lonely, But as long as life endures My heart will be true to you only, Inspired by a love like yours. How well I remember when last we met, On that joyful Christmas night ; How lovely she was, I can see her yet. So fair in her garments of white. I told her iiiy love in words sincere, To me she seemed divine. As she whispered softly. "I love yom, dear," And placed her hand in mine. She had named the day we twO' were to wed. Oh, what sadness the years can bring! Death called her awa}' and they laid her instead To rest 'neath the flowers of spring. Tonight my heart is so sad and drear, Christmas joys I cannot share; I cannot take part in the Christmas cheer When she's sleeping so silently there. GEMS OF POESY igi THE BROKEN HEART. o SOUTHERN L. BOY. SOUL bound down with grief so great, Couldst thou not if thou wouldst Remember now thy Father's words? Oh, grieve not, heart of mine. For in His Book is plainly seen, "Fear not, come unto Me." O, heart, please cease thy grieving. O, heart, liow canst thou keep me thus? How can my frame withstand it? A thousand thorns do' prick my soul, I cannot, will not stand it. Ye wretch, that stand and laugh at me Because of this, my trouble ! O heart, have thou revenge and cease thy grieving. Ye demon, how ye stare at me. This heart of mine is breaking. Oh, couldst thou not if thou wouldst try Leave me tO' my fate unharmed? For in my dreams that piercing stays, How cruel ye mortals be. O heart, thou must, now, I pray thee, cease thy grieving. O morn, the sun seems blood to me. The stars have ceased to twinkle ; How cruel, how cold, how desperate, Savior, can it be. Wilt Thou stay from me Thy care? 1 would leave with Thee, and Thee alone. Oh, this, my sid token. Alas ! alas ! alas ! at last and now my poor heart's broken. ig2 GEMS OF POESY BACK TO THE OLD HOME AGAIN. I fanny's picture, miss n. t. beers. N her old arm easy chair Sits our mother, sweet and fair, . Her hands clasped upon her knee. Her dark eyes so clear and bright Illum'd with a Heavenly light, Her sweet smile speaks, "come tome." With her white and snowy hair, Her tired hands so feebly clasped. On our heads are laid at last, Our mother dear, so fondly dear. Welcome home we all will be Since when children on your knee. Oft' since then we have wandered far, Still, you left the gate ajar For our return, mother dear. It was then we learned your love. Learned we then our duty clear. Dear old days, so long ago. Oft' I wondered full of woe. If such happiness could be. If those days could e'er return, If some lessons we would learn Of our own, our mother dear. GEMS OF POESY igs DETERMINATION. I H. BARTLE BARTLESON. STAND tonight on the hilltop And lift my gaze afar, To that beautiful golden City With Christ at the Judgement Bar. Crime I have not committed, Yet sin lies at my door ; But with this determination I will go and sin no more. For what are we ignorant mortals Without the grace of God ? We fight this cold life's battle But to sink beneath the sod, While those who trust in Jesus And obey through thick and thin, When their forms shall rest in ashes Their souls will be with Him. And so with the help of Jesus And the love of God within I shall kneel tonight at the altar And pledge my soul to Him If I could come with those about me Thrice happier would I be, If by giving my life like Jesus I could bring the world to Thee. 194 GEMS OF POESY AWA' FRA' CULLODEN AND ME. I JENNIE MACKENZIE. sit alone in the gloaming, Watching the coals in the grate, And think of my laddie that's roaming Far away in Illinois State. I yearn to see him and wonder Just how ranch tonight he would gie To leave the rich lands over yonder And be in Culloden with me. Cliorus. Oh, come home, my laddie, come home Fra' the lands far over the sea ; Oh, come home and never more roam, Awa' fra' Culloden and me. My other laddies all love me. They are good and noble and true. But you are far o'er the deep sea, And I aye am thinking of you I miss the tunes of the pibrock You played, and the marches and reels ; ' You read to me in the Gaelic, — Now lonely your fond mother feels. Your sister to me is e'er kind. She wishes her brother to see ; Your schoolmates still keep you in mind. They aye have kind greetings for me ; I'm growing weary and old And longing my laddie to see. To have you return to my fold And be in Culloden with me. GEMS OF POESY igs MY GOLDEN HAIRED DARLING. M JULIA MICHAEL. Y golden haired darling so sweet and fair. Sat patching her dress of blue ; Her dear little hands, so chubby and sweet, Held her needle so firm and triie. In her little rocking chair she sat, This sweet little tot of three, With her baby face uplifted to mine as she said, "Won't mama please break this thread for me ?" In her sweet brown eyes was an innocent look, And her face was wreathed in smiles As she said, "Does mama like for me to sew ?" In her baby voice so mild. "G'od bless my darling so sweet and fair, " I said as I watched her sew. "May you ever keep her as pure and sweet. As tender, kind and true, As she was that day while making believe She was patching her dress of blue. " ig6 GEMS OF POESY THE NIGHT-BIRD'S CAROL. E. D. WING. OFTLY the evening dewdrops ' Fall on the blushing rose, Hidden within the hedges, Sleeping in sweet repose. Hushed is the sound of voices Out in the pale moonlight. Nestling among the branches, Bidding the world good night. Slowly the fleeting shadows Gather away to rest, Flooding the earth with sunlight Over the mountain crest. GEMS OF POESY igy A SONG OF THE PRAIRIE PLAINS. T LEONDUS M. CHURCH. HERE'S one that's ever kind and true. And I hope to meet her again ; It's the little one all dressed in blue That I met in the Prairie plain. How oft I lay me down to sleep, And my thoughts run back again To see the one with the golden curls That I met in the Prairie plain. I would go around this world, And around and around again, To see the one with the golden curls That I met in the Prairie plain. The flowers grew in the prettiest beds, And a bird sang most sweetly ; He sang and he sang all o'er our heads, O'er the shade of the willow tree. As I held her by the gentle hand, Oh, what a charming one was she ! And the bird on the swinging limb he sang O'er the shade of the willow tree. As we held each other's parting hand, And she wept most bitterly, — "Now when you're off in a foreign land. Then I pray, sir, think of me. " As we held each other's parting hand. Then I could scarcely say adieu ; And when I'm away in a foreign land. Oh yes, then, yes, I will think of you. Our ship she rides the briny main. O'er the rolling waves of the sea, And I think of her o'er and o'er again And the shade of the willow tree. ig8 GEMS OF POESY WORK FOR YOU. D KATHERINE H. CASE. ON'T sit there idly dreaming, There is work for you to do. Don't sigh for other fields of labor, For God is more wise than you Take hold of the task before you, It was put there for your hands ; It is your work, do not shirk, Do it the best you can. Poets and painters are made, not born, Orators gain not fame by sighing ; The musician obtains his skillful touch By simply trying, trying, trying. Idle excuse will a sluggard produce. Whatever the environments be ; But pluck and vim a crown will win Whether on land or sea. Each nerve has its message to bear, Each ligament its joint to sustain. And the hand that put each atom in place Guards you. Why then complain ? Pray not that He lighten the load. But to be strong to meet the test. For a nail well driven or a theme well written Will purchase the promised rest. GEMS OF POESY igg AT REST. ANNA ROTHWELL. HE lay in a casket rich and grand ' In a large and stately room, And flowers in abundance fair Lighted up the gloom. Mourners filled the grand old*halls, But not one tear was shed For the silent figure robed in white That lay amid them dead. The hour grew late — the mourners yawned, And many went away, And no one saw a man who came, So feeble old and gray. With trembling- steps and tearful eye He slowly crossed the floor And entering where death's victim lay He softly closed the door. No one saw him clasp that hand That lay so still and cold ; No one heard him call her "darling, " As he did in days of old ; But they found him in the morning. His gray head on her breast, And the smile upon his bloodless lips Showed a broken heart at rest. 200 GEMS OF POESY THE BROOKLET. B , LISLE E. SAXTDN. USY Brooklet ! rippling- by, Winding like a silver way, In and out aronnd the trees, Adding joy-thrills to the day ; Daisies greet you, singing Brook ! Grasses grace your margin, near ; Pearly dew-drops, too, be-gem. And all Nature worships here. Azure skies, all gemmed with stars, Are your canopy at night ; Softly tinted clouds by day Mirror in your waters bright Trilling Brooklet ! thing of life. Sweet refrain to wild bird's call. Music, haimting shady nooks — Nature needs you, needs us all. Little Brooklet ! softly trill, For all Nature loves you so. Harp of many, many strings, Tuned so sweetly, played so low, Nearer God we surely are When respondent to thy thrill ; And in silence calmly rest — One with Universal will. GEMS Oh POESY 201 TEMPTATION. MAUDE PADEN HISSOM. 'EMPTATION is a gilded snare Set to entrap the soul ; And in existance everywhere It battles' with control, Alluring many victims in To lead a life of shame and sin. Temptation caused poor Mother Eve Forbidden fruit to eat, When Satan got her to believe His mouthful of deceit. But, praise the Lord, a woman gave To earth a Son our souls to save. Temptation to the Savior came In various forms and great ; He bore the cross, despised the shaiae, And yielded to His fate. Though much abused and sorely tried Sinned not our Lord, the crucified. Temptation must resisted be. Or Jesus died in vain ; The devil, when opposed, will flee. Yet he returns again. Thus ease and leisure cannot dwell In Zion lest it be like hell. Temptation is the source of all The evil ever done ; And will continue till Christ's call Brings from the grave each one. It is an awful thing, — prepare To meet the living God up there. 202 GEMS OF POESY THE FUTURE'S PROMISE. I C. N. LUND JR. can see a future golden, Bright with glory's streaming light, Such as prophets have beholden When the world was in its night. Ev'ry curse from life is taken, Perfect peace triumphant reigns ; Satan's throne is roughly shaken, Fate hath forged out his chains. Cruel war hath sheathed its saber. Greed and selfishness have fled ; As himself each loves his neighbor And hath naught of earth to dread. In man's path of devastation Artful grandeur now appears ; Earth from all its desolation To its virgin beauty nears. It is coming! I can hear it 'Bove the turmoil and the strife ; Ev'ry conflict brings us near it, 'Tis the goal of human life. 'Tis the promise of earth's eons. Writ in rays of rising light ; Let us hail its ringing paeans, They proclaim the world's birthright. GEMS OF POESY 203 THE HAUNTING GHOST. EZEKIEL BENJAMIN GRIFKIN. ITS road is wide and inviting, many have gone that way ; Its weird and exciting there, many have gone to stay. It is long and unlevel, extending into a terrific gloom ; It is a curst black road they have traveled and come to a sad end soon They have met with weary travelers who tried to retrace their way, But the cursed and evil spirit has bid them ever stay. It has caught them like a fish hawk and borne them on their dis- mal way ! Down through dark and dreary pathways has borne them fast astray. It's the friend of evil speakers, it's the cause of evil fires, It's the friend of evil seekers, it's the friend of evil liars ; It has borne them like a hurricane, it has bid them never stop ; It's the seed and planter, it's the grower and cultivator of a very evil crop On to Hell they are gone ; in the dark road they are strewn, Like the ravens of the forest, like the panther in your path, Like a monster of the ocean, like a serpent in the grass. I would rather never been born than to think of being the slave, Haunted by a wicked spirit up from cradle down to the grave. It's a friend to thieves and murderers, it's the cause of wicked sin, — 'Tis the evil haunting spirit, 'tis the taste of whiskey, rum or gin I 204 GEMS OF POESY IN THE VALLEY THAT WE BOTH LOVE. LOGAN GLASSGOW GRIFFITH. - ["AR away in yonder valley Shines my only guiding star ; It's a picture of my dear old mother That comes to me from afar. And where e'er in this world I go, And wherever I may be, Comes this picture of my mother And I, a boy, at her knee. And now, when the evening comes, I dreamily gaze away At that star and think of mother. And her dear head, bowed and gray. In the hurry and turmoil of strife I may forget her at times ; But away my thoughts go to my mother. When that star at evening shines. I forget I am powerful and rich. And a selfmade business man ; But I dream I am with my mother And feel the caress of her hand. I do not forget my loved ones, Sheltered now in my city home ; But I long to be with my mother And o'er the broad valley to roam. For there's no one like a mother. Every one will know this some day. And so I am called to my mother By that star's most brilliant ray. O I when my work is ended, And He calls me up Above, Lay me down beside my mother In the valley that we both love. GEMS OF POESY 205 R LULLABY. LYDE TODD KASKINS. OCKABY, lullaby, clouds pass the moon, Are you now resting, dear baby mine ? Rockaby, lullaby, twilight came soon, I tend you, baby mine. Jessamines white all their fragrance unfold, Wee, precious baby of mine. I'll rock you lightly and gently will hold You in my arms, baby mine. Rockaby, lullaby, sounds low, comes the night. Drowsy blue eyes no longer can ope, — Rockaby, lullaby, e'en one kiss might Wake you, sweet baby mine. Oh, on the morrow a thousand I'll press On your soft brow, baby mine ! Nor can you ever so gently caress Me, helpless joy, baby mine. Rockaby, lullaby, lonely the hour. Slumber, my darling, dear baby mine. Rockaby, lullaby, mine only flower, Slumber, fair treasure mine. Mother still rocks you and looks o'er the lea, Slumber dear Angel of mine jesus kept father safe for you and me. Dream on, then, dear baby mine. 2o6 GEMS OF POESY N MY LADDIE. EMMA FAULINE SELLERS. O i)earl in the ocean, no gem in the mine, Was so dear to my heart as this laddie o' mine ; Now torture o' anguish, all joy gaes aglee, For the wineglass hae taken my laddie frae me. He has large azure e'en and a glint o' gauld hair, With a face made by nature surpassingly fair ; But grief is my portion and fain would I dee. For the wineglass hae taken my laddie frae me. This night o' depp sorrow my soul feels unrest ; The sting o' the serpent it pierceth my breast ; For parted forever are laddie and me, For the wineglass hae taken my laddie fra' me I think o' the future; I ken 'twill be drear To live without laddie; life's journey I fear. His love was my shelter and tears dim my e'e, For the wineglass hae taken my laddie frae me. Oh the bright days o' youth when Eden's fair bower Was free frae the blight o' the dread demon's power, And I and my laddie had hearts light and free. Ere the wineglass had taken my laddie frae me. GEMS OF POESY 207 MY BABY'S FACE I MRS. ANNIE M. V. WILCOX. looked out at the star tonight, That bright peculiar star, So near — so holy in its light It did not seem afar The heavens were dark all otherways, 'Twas like a fair young moon, — So clear and large, its steady rays Seemed to light up the room. The nurse came in, bringing my boy, Cooing in baby glee, I turned, thrilled through with sudden joy, And caught my babe to me. His rosy cheeks and laughing eyes Seemed brighter still to see Than the great Venus of the skies, — And in pure ecstacy I cried, "My precious love, where'er I be Thou art the star of all sweet stars for me. " 2o8 GEMS OF POESY THE VOICE OF NATURE. ANNIE GOLDING UMMER days again are here ' And gentle breezes blow ; Gone are winter's bitter winds With all its frost and snow. All nature is now rejoicing, There's a song upon the air ; It echoes from the hillside, 'Tis ringing everywhere. We love the warm bright summer, Though some days may sultry be, Strollmg through flowery gardens. Or sailing on the sea There comes sweet rest to the weary, As we swiftly sail along, Listenmg to the music sweet Of the grand old ocean's song. Who can describe that scene sublime, Which at evening greets the eye ; As sunset sheds its glowing light O'er land and sea and sky. And when the evening shadows fall The sea grows dark and drear. Then a pale bright moon breaks through the gloom And shines out full and clear. In summertime we love to spend Our evenings at the beach. Where nature sings her sweetest songs And deepest lessons teach. GEMS O}^ POESY 209 IF I HAD WINGS. ANNA F. SWAN. I F I had wings I'd soar away Till I reached Heaven's gate, And there I'd lay me down just outside And I'd be so content to wait Until the Master took my hand And bade me enter in the promised land. If I had wings why should I stay Upon this earth one single day, When I've a home beyond so bright and fair And a loving Savior to welcome me there ? And my soul wings away where angels dwell, Anxious the beauties of Heav'n to mortals to tell. But my soul has wings, and so it can soar, Although my body must linger where earth's battles roar. But my soul, some day, shall bid my body rise. And show it the things seen by faith in the skies. And so by faith I'll wait at Heaven's gate Until my Master bids me enter his vast estate. 210 GEMS OF POESY UNCLE SAM. EMMA PAULINE SELLERS. jrp WAS the nig-ht of Sousa's band That I pledged to him my hand, Here's the signet golden band. Uncle Sam, Uncle Sam. Chonts. He is handsome, brave and true In his uniform of blue, And I love him, wouldn't you, Uncle Sam, Uncle Sam ? If T were a drunkard's wife Very dark would be my life, With its squalid, dreadful strife. Uncle Sam, Uncle Sam. Is it right, then, do you think, That you cause young men to sink In the maelstrom of strong drink, Uncle Sam, Uncle Sam ? Think of all the poison stills And the brothel dens it fills. And the thousands that it kills. Uncle Sam, Uncle Sam Soldiers all are yours to fight For the cause that is the right. Not to curse as black as night. Uncle Sam, Uncle Sam. Soon this life will pass away And within the grave we'll lay, Then will come the judgment day, Uncle Sara, Uncle Sam. GEMS OF POESY 21 1 TRAILING ARBUTUS. B BLANCHE E. HINMAN DUNGEY. EAUTIFUL arbutus, growing wild. Oft I gathered you when a child Just under the hill back of the old mill, Where evergreen trees were standing so still ; Although very stately they were not half as fair As the sweet waxen arbutus hiding there ; When the warm rays of sUh melts the cold winter snow Your little pink and white blossoms first to show. Only a sprig of arbutus in a letter old, Sent by one whose friendship long ago grew cold, Recalls to memory bright scenes long past Of how we searched for arbutus too frail to last. And I seem for a moment to see the form flit to and fro As the woods echt)ed with our voices years ago. Oh once again to be a child And gather the arbutus growing wild. Loving little child brought the flowers to me, Saying: "Mama, look how pretty they be. Put them in water, do, to please me, " Never knowing the thoughts they swiftly bring Of those old scenes in the long ago spring. Nor the buds of arbutus I seem to see, Recalling past years again to me And hopes that fulfilled could never be Surely some of the leaves look sear and brown. But if you wish for sweet flowers just look down ; There the sweet arbutus, as in days long gone by, Is trailing and hiding for you and I ; But no more for me in those haunts I'll roam. For the woodman's axe the trees have thrown. And now the sweet arbutus blooms there alone And I am far from my childhood's home. 212 GEMS OF POESY THE WAY OF THE WORLD. I HADDEN LOUIS JOHNSON. N all a man can do, It may be just or true, There is a man with envious hand The import to undo. There always is a way To do the thing that's right ; We know our part, prepare our heart, And forward to the fight. We need not work for fame. For honor nor for love, But just to do right, for justice fight, — It's sanctioned from above. But evil men today Will judge our work unfair ; Still through the flood, though washed in blood, We'll have it all to bear. We all may judge a man. But this we should not do ; The Just, the Lord will right reward In spite of all we do. We have no right to judge The humble or the great ; The Judge of man, with His own hand Doth rule and guide our fate. So "Judge ye not," I say, 'Tis not the righteous way. For 'gainst your name a fearful stain You'll find at Judgement Day. GEMS OF POESY 213 LENTEN. EMMA JOSEPHINE SMITH. EE the thickning clouds of gloom, ' The Lenten of anticipated doom ; Hush! he wrestles now in prayer, While others sleep. Sad, wailing winds a requiem keep. "I know Thy will, O Father, yet I plead Let this bitter cup, dear Father, pass from me ; This woe, these draughts of agony Thy will be done. For Thou art Father, I the son. " Calvary has sad sweet memories, A precious burden on a stricken tree, A crowned head sacrificed for me ; Infinite love, The angels whisper from above. This holy Lenten, when on bended knee. The world leaving, we seek Thee, O sad, sweet spot, Gethsemane, We'll remember. The words low and tender, "In memory of Me. " 214 GEMS OF POESY 'TIS ONLY A FLOWRET. T GOLDIE MYRTLE GEYER. IS only a flow'ret she gave me, A token, an emblem of love Which reminds me of days that have passed away, Of days of long, long ago ; Of days of that sweet springtime When our hearts were happy and free, Oh could they return for a moment How happy I would be ! How often she told me she loved me, Loved me so fond and true ; Ah! little flow'ret, how well do I remember The times when my loved one was near. How bright I thought our future ! Then our hearts were happy and free. Oh could I press her to my heart for a moment. How happy I would be ! But now she has gone from me, Her face no more will I see ; Departed now, little flow'ret, is all thy beauty, But still I cling to thee. You're a momento of my loved one, You're a token of her love ; I will keep you forever, little flow'ret, In remembrance of one that I loved. GEMS OF POESY 215 CAN'T YOU TELL ME ? DORA A. CESLER. ^ELL me, bright star, tell me true Does my darling mama know All the bad things I say and do ? Tell me while you twinkle so. It would make her very sad If she really and truly knew ; For sometimes I'm awfully bad. Tell me, bright star, tell me true. Sometimes I can almost see Her sweet face peeping through. Watching, watching over me. Tell me, bright star, is it true ? If this I only could but know, Just for sure 'twixt me and you, How with goodness I would glow. Can't you tell me bright star ? Do. 2i6 GEMS Oh POESY DEPARTING DAYS. NORA BARTELS. UMMER days are swiftly passing, Joys of life are fading fast ; Soon will come the drear November With its cold and chilly blast. Soon the leaves will all be vanished, Flowers will wither and decay, But their beauty still remaineth In our memory fresh each day. Soon the snow flakes will be scattered, Guided by a loving hand ; Falling gently down from Heaven, Bringing joy throughout the land. If our lives were like the lillies, Pure and white as crystal snow. We would then be like the snowflakes, Bringing joy where'er we go. Harvest is home, the bins are full, The barns are running o'er ; Both grains and fruits we've garnered in Till we've no space for more. We've worked and toiled through heat and cold. To plant, to sow, to reap ; And now for all this bounteous store Let us thanksgiving keep. AVe take our lives, our joys, our wealth, Unthanking every day ; If we deserve or we do not, The sun it shines alway. So in this life of daily toil, That leaves short time to pray, With brimming hearts let's humbly keep One true Thanksgiving Day. GEMS OF POESY 21-1 THE PARTING. C. SELWVN WORRELL. 00 vain their wish ! Time might not rest And saddening farewell must be said ; Close to her heart the mother pressed Yet once again her darling's head. Dull sobs grief's mystic language spoke, For failing tongues would not obey; From that embrace one slowly broke And shoreward wept her lonely way. Could home be home no voice to make Its walls with laugh and song alive ? Afar sweet smiles its cares that brake Throughout years half a score and five ? "Patience! " the wavelets soft did sing, "The promised glory of the hour That for thy precious bud shall bring Thee back a fragrant, full-blown flower ! Alone she sat at the close of day, Her looks bespoke a softer clime; On fair cheeks twain imprinted lay The kis>es of the glad springtime. Tear drops fast falling from her eye Refreshed the flowers she brought at dawn, Ere streaming from the brightening sky The sunlight gilded hill and lawn. She mused on childhood's days flown past : Too blest the dimness of our sight, Love's veil o'er future sorrows cast, Else life were roSbed of all delight Met her that eve two little feet. And pointing to the spangled blue. The boy exclaimed in accents sweet, "■Mama is there; we're going too! " 2i8 GEMS OF POESY LOVE'S LONGING. w FREDERICK A. HOWARD. HEN thou art far away from me I would that I could be with thee ; No matter in what kind of clime Thou knowest, love, my heart is thine. And if upon some distant shore Thou makest thy home forevermore, I to thee then would roam, * There to make my future home. To be with thee, to be with thee Is the longing that possesses me ; In ecstacy I dream of thee. Oh ! listen, love, to me, to me. GEMS OF POESY 219 ODE TO JULY. MRS. LIDA HAMACHER. H AIL July! month, all hail to thee ! In thy days was signed our liberty, And on the fourth, with royal cheer, We greet your presence year by year. The farms are in their halcyon day, With golden wheat and fields of maize, The farmer with a broad smile cheer, The busiest month of all the year, Sweet summer month July. The sunflower stands high in the stock. Bright beams the gorgeous hollyhock. The yarrow with its dainty bloom, The alder flowers' sweet perfume, Wild daisies smiling, calm, serene Along the highway can be seen ; The wild rose bloom and red top high Proclaim the glorious month July. Hail, glorious month of summer days ! The birds still sing their roundelays, Far in the wood the turtle dove Is softly cooing to his love ; The katydid sings long and clear, The redbird's carol is sweet to hear ; The bluejay perched high on a limb. All join and sing our nation's hymn, "My country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty. " 220 GEMS Oh POESY DOES SHE MISS HER BROTHER THERE. AMY J. COOK. DARLING sister's gone away, she's gone to Heaven to stay She's gone to live with angels bright and fair ; She is singing songs of joy, for in Heaven there's no alloy, I wonder does she miss her brother there. CJionis. Oh does she miss me there In that Heavenly land so fair ? Oh, is she waiting there for me to come ? Will she meet me at the gate, Where my lingering feet will wait ? Oh will she meet and welcome brother home ? The day she went away we passed it all in play. Nor thought the parting then so soon would come I When her evening prayers were said Mama tucked her up in bed, She closed her eyes to wake in her Heavenly home. 'Tis wrong to grieve, I know, but I miss my darling so, I long to go where all are free from care ; Will you meet me bye and bye in that home beyond the sky ? Darling sister, will you meet your brother there ? GEM SOF POESY 221 THY WILL BE DONE. MRS. K. T. EVANS. *HY sovereign will is best, dear Lord, Wherever it may lead ; Thou who know est every heart Can best supply its needs ; Then we've a glorious victory won When from our hearts we say, Thy will, not ours, be done. How we murmur and repine Beneath the chastening rod, Forgetting 'tis Thy hand divine To Bring us nearer home. Then we've a glorious victory won When from our hearts we say, Thy will, not ours, be done. Some earthly joy we deem most sweet We cherish in our hearts. Till oft an idol it becomes And oh, how hard to part. Then we've a glorious victory won When from our hearts we say, Thy will, not ours, be done. But oh, a crown of life awaits In Heaven for everyone. Who with submissive heart will say, . Thy will, not ours, be done. Then we've a glorious victory won When from our hearts we say Thy will, not ours, be done. 222 GEMS O F P O E SY HER LOVING SON. o ISABEL CATHRINE. H mother, let me lay my head Upon thy breast once more ! As in the days of childhood plays I found a haven safe and sure. Those days you peered into my eyes And fondly called me thine ; You held your arms around me close With mother's love divine. Those days you taught me how to pray Our blessed Savior's prayer. T often heard your angel voice Consign me to His care. Those golden days have long since passed, And now I'm old and gray.. I never never shall forget How you showed me the way Oh mother, let me lay my head Once more upon your breast, — I long to hear those cradle hymns That lulled me to my rest. GEMS OF POESY 223 WARNING. H. W. TENEY. ^HE youth who, unthinking", With comrades is drinking, Makes jest of the links that are binding him fast. He turns from you spurning Your counsel with scorning, And mirthfully tosses the poisonous glass. If but the sorrow It holds for the morrow That glass like a mirror the future revealed. Enslaved none would languish In terror and anguish, Nor bend to the scepter the rum demon wields. Is there no warning In thousands now mourning, , In ravings and cravings of slaves unalloyed ? In maniacs shrieking. In murderers reeking, The rum craving weakling and households destroyed ? 224 GEMS OF POESY DREAMS. AGNES J. HAWLEY. EATED one night in the pale starlight, ' By the casement wide and low, I dreamed me a dream, So real did it seem In those days of long ago ; But those visions so gay have faded away Like the down of the thistle blow. Once a fair dream of gold, of riches untold Lured me on like a false beacon light ; And my life boat was tossed On the rocks and was lost, And sank 'mid the darkness of night. But the dream passed away like the dawning of day. And left but a memory bright. Then I dreamed that fame's hand Was holding a chaplet for me And I vainly kept on Until my youth was nigh gone And followed o'er land and sea ; But the dream quickly passed and I wakened at last To know that I'd ne'er famous be. Oh ! fair idle dreams that vanish like dew, Dreams that never come true, Yet they comfort a sorrow-pierced heart And a ray of hope gleams through. Then bid me not awake. And my sweet dreams forsake, For they bring a fair picture to view. GEMS OF POESY 225 ONWARD, EVER ONWARD! o AUGUST W. KRUGER. NWARD as through life we go, Onward, ever onward ! Let this be our motto : Onward, ever onward ! Onward, Jesus leads the way. Onward, ever onward ! Onward, till we are called away. Onward, ever onward ! Even though come grief and pain, Onward, ever onward,' For our work is not in vain. Onward, ever onward ! Onward I is duty's command, Onward, ever onward ! For duty we ready stand. Onward, ever onward I Though your duty may be hard, Onward, ever onward ! Like the task, so the reward. Onward, ever onward ! All are children of one God, Onward, ever onward ! Till we meet beyond the sod. Onward, ever onward ! 226 GEMS OF POESY JAPANTHER AND THE BEAR MRS. N. E. EDWARDS. 'AID Japanther to the Bear, "I will send you a prop. ^ Delay to mount on it be sure you do not. Other nations have felt the blow from your paw I'll take warning by them, so mount the prop now. " The Bear he delayed to mount on that prop ; Japanther decided to wait longer would not, Believed the Bear preparing to give him a slap, So he thought he'd be first and give him a rap. So he threw out his lines along the deep sea, With every Japanther he ever could see. And sent forth a boat filled with powder and shell. The result of this conflict the future must tell. Bring forth arbitration to settle all claims. That the life blood of nations be not spilled on its plains, That spears unto pruning hooks soon may be turned, And the weapons of warfare for usefulness burned. May the flag of Jehovah in triumph soon wave, "O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. " May peace and prosperity ever more reign. And the lion together lie down with the lamb. GEMS OF POESY 22^ BEAUTIES OF NATURE. NELLIE JEAN BARNETTE. rUST a meadow full of flowers, A tall elm here and there ; Just a place of shady bowers With which nothing can compare. Just a river flowing by, A giant willow bending near ; Just a mother singing a sweet lullabye To a little one, to her so dear. Just the woodlands o'er the way. Full of tall and stately trees ; Just a fleld of daisies, gay. Swaying in the night's soft breeze. 228 GEMS OF POESY DISCONTENT. ELIZABETH CLAIRMONTE. 'ODAY there rests a melancholy o'er my soul, I long for worldly things and lofty ways ; Could I biit reach the fame and fortune's goal Methinks the world would gladly sing my praise. How I do long to visit foreign climes. Where I could revel in their glorious lore, Where I could gaze in ecstacy sublime Upon their beauteous skies and glorious shores. I long for wealth that I might live in ease, That I no care in this wide world should know ; That I could live and love in glorious peace, And on my way in solid comfort go. O Discontent, why dost thou pester me ? Canst thou not find one lone experiment ? ^ Perhaps Ambition, here, will useful be To drive away the glare of Discontent. GEMS O F P O E SY 229 NEAR THE GREEN BANKS OF THE RIVER. N F. H. MARTIN. EAR the green banks of the river My old home I can see, And in mem'ry I still see it Where the dear ones used to be ; With its fragrant bushes many, Their odors rich and sweet, And the huge trees bound in ivy That makes it all complete. You've talked of fragi'ant flowers In the garden soon to be. And then of golden hours That were ever dear to thee ; There is not a fragrant flower On earth so sweet to me As the sweet Rose in the village Who is still so dear to me. There's a sweet Rose in the village That will never fade away, For my mind will always linger With those happy bygone days, Where we ofttimes used to wander 'Neath the shadow of the trees. Near the green banks of the river And breathe its cooling breeze. I could see luy dear old mother As in those happy days. Likewise my friends and loved one, — My loved one, yes, always. 'Twas the sweet Rose of the village Whom I ever longed to see Near the green banks of the river She was waiting there for me. 2^0 G E M S O F POESY THE SONG OF THE SOUTHLAND ANNIE AYRES WATSON. ^HERE is no land like the Southland, Where the violets and roses blow, For it was there we plighted our troth In the glad long ago. It was in the violet time In that soft and sunny clime, When you whispered the story old, The sweetest story ever told. Has your heart forgotten, love. While mine is as true as the stars above ? Tho' dreary miles and fate divide I will love you whate'er betide. And when I kiss this violet sweet I pray God that some day we may meet, And wander again hand in hand In that far off Southern land. GEMS OF POESY 231 SHORT SHRIFT OF SHEEN. I DUNCAN FRANCIS YOUNG. saw a little daisy once Which grew beneath the trees, And like the oak this daisy waved When cradled by the breeze. When summer came and warmed its heart This daisy raised its head, And in a garden near it spied A mate which soon it wed. The gorgeous pair, 'midst sturdy oaks Found home beneath their sphere ; Adorned they were wiih lovely buds — Outshining others here. ^ Upon their heads bright jewels shone That glittered in the sun ; Their life was one incessant round Of pleasures aptly won Then autumn came and chilling dews Made ill this daisy fair ; A yellow tinge o'erspread its form, Which now was thin and bare. But lo ! where once the daisies grew The oaks still bow and wave ; The wind which thro' their branches blows Sings o'er that daisy's grave. 232 GEMS OF POESY WHY? o MRS. GEORGE HORATIO PACKWOOD SR. NE, two, three, four ! the hours sound clear, Struck by the old clock standing near ; In the chill silence of the night My sad thoughts fly to brighter times When friends were mine and my heart light, So light I counted not the chimes. But now when it means much to me, Safe sweet sleep lies murdered — Ah why ? God knows now — I'll know by and by. Life has changed : its brightness sweet Has flown away on pinions fleet. Old friends are cold and careless now, Since fortune ill smote me and mine. Sorrow's snow fast falls o'er my brow, The dregs of life run thro' my wine, And now — when it means all to me — Those I love, — I love ! — are gone — Why ? God knows now — I'll know by and by. GEMS OF POESY 233 A MOUNTAIN STREAMLET. A. A. SLADE. *HERE was a little streamlet Far up the mountain side That from a bubbling spring Silently did glide ; Down among the rushes, Over leaves and grass, Glittering in the sunHght As it trickles past. Now it gurgles hoarsel)^ 'Neath a big tree root, Then into a gully Quickly it does shoot. Here 'tis flowing'swiftly Over rocks and sands ; Other streams approach it. Now they all join hands. Downward they rush With a little shiver ; Over the banks they plunge Into the river. Onward they are flowing. Full of life and glee, Laughing and singing Till they reach the sea. 2S4 GEMS OF POESY DONT BE DOWNHEARTED. A. E. G. AUGH and be merry while you may, ' Tomorrow may bring a stormy day ; Gather the sunshine as you go, Tomorrow may be filled with trouble and woe. Don't be downhearted at every turn, But even from trials some pleasure earn. There is no trial so dark or deep But from it we may something reap. GEMS OF POESY 2^5 CONSCIENCE. WILBERT P. CREAMER. ^HE howl of the wind Was a ghostly scream ; For Harold had sinned. Shadows in moonlight Made him quake and start ; Fear ruled him this night. Every bush and post Was beast or robber ; Never more could he boast. Of his fearlessness. Terror stretched the road ; His walk was carefulness, And the ghostly wind Would keep telling him That he had sinned. 236 GEMS OF POESY THE WHITE WOMAN'S BURDEN. M ALICE OSBORN PARKS. EN ! don't you hear the moan of the mothers ? Mothers whose hearts are. bleeding and torn, Mothers who went into the depths to bear you And bring you to the light of a beautiful morn. Men! can't you see what you are doing ? There's nothing but sorrow and dire disgrace In the careless career you all are pursuing, There's work to be done, to unslave the white race. Men! just look at the gray haired mothers, And mark the sigh and halting pace, Where nothing of sorrow, but a glad tomorrow Should lighten and brighten her dear old face. Men! is money the paramount issue ? Men! is money the only thing worth while ? If that be true just buy the machinery And grind out dollars till they make you smile. Men ! will you sell your souls to satan ? For silver and gold to hold for awhile. That's just what you're doing for the soul of your brother, For no drunkard shall gain eternity's smile. Men ! you fought to free your black brothers ; God bless you for what you have done for them ; Now show your true colors for God, home and mothers, And pour in the white ballots to free the white men. GEMS OF POESY 237 JUST A WHITE CARNATION. MINNIE BENNITT VAN GORDER. 'UST a white carnation. He placed it in her hair — Whispering- to her softly, "Sweetheart, wear it there. Then I will know you love me. My heart so yearns for thee — I long to hold you in my arms, My promised wife to be." CJiorus. Just a white carnation. So beautiful and sweet, — Just a white carnation, So perfect and complete. Just a white carnation, — What pleasure and what pain Just a white carnation Brings to me again. The wedding day was near, Heavy clouds hung o'er their sky A tempest raged within his heart - His promised wife must die. And while he wept they laid her Beneath the cold damp clay ; But above her silent resting place Some white carnations lay. 2j8 GEMS O F P O E SY MY PRAYER AT MOTHER'S KNEE. I WILLIE A. WHIPPLE. sat one day in an arbor, With roses bowered o'er, And in a vision I seemed to see Myself as in days of yore. Then the years were full of trouble, And all was death to me, But I have grown older and richer Since I prayed at mother's knee. Chorus. And then I had a vision, Of how I used to be, As I knelt each evening In prayer at mother's knee. But though the world seems dreary. And toilsome and full of strife, There comes a burst of sunshine At last into ev'ry life. Then the mists are spent and the heavens From the shadows of woe set free, And we feel again the comfort Of the prayer at mother's knee. GEMS OF POESY 239 I AM WAITING. c MRS. C. S. MICHAEL. OME and meet me in the twilight At the closing of the day ; I have something sweet to tell you, I have something sweet to say ; It may be the same old story That has been told so many times, But it will sound so sweet to me, love. If I can only call you mine. If you knew how much I loved you You would never cause me pain ; And you would listen to my pleadings And they would not be in vain ; But if there should be some other And my love you could not return Let me be to you a brother And my friendship do not spurn. Oh, yoM have come at last, my darling, And I wonder what you will say When I tell you how much I love you, — Will you send me far away ? No, oh no, I can read my answer In those dear blue eyes of thine, — That you will trust me from now and ever And from this hour I can call you mine. 240 GEMS OF POESY THE LIFE OF A DOCTOR. NETTIE GRIGSBY MIERS. lOME think a doctor's life is pleasure ; ' He rides through sun, rain, sleet and snow. Really if all of us could only know, Doctors' lives are aught but pleasure. His visits are to those in distress ; Many fevered brows he may press ; And always seeks to give some relief To all those around in great grief. O'er many a little precious form He bends, and rises only to inform A poor broken hearted mother so dear That angels are lingering near. Or perhaps he is called to see Aged father, mother, it may be ; Those tired hands are worn and weary. Whose life has been so long and dreary. And yet, through all these great displeasures He does not collect enough for treasures/, A doctor's life is sad and dreary. He's only with those sick, worn and weary. Never has an hour to call his own, His leisure moments are unknown ; To public his time and service belong, . Day and night all his weary life long. GEMS 1^ POESY 241 FANCIES. BAKKR I.EE YOUNG. ''OMETIMES we look up, in the midst of our musing ^ At the beautiful stars in the place overhead, And believe they were set far away in the spaces To shine as a sign of the souls that have fled. And oft in our yearning for the friends who have left us We look at the light of the old milky way, And think that perhaps 'tis the path unto glory Along which the angels are wending their way. And when at night we lie down but to weep o'er the pillow, Visions come back through that desolate door. And the dear ones dead are before us in fancy, — 'Tis a picture of peace on a passionless shore. Oh God, what e'er be the truth of such fancies, Teach us to love them while the long ages roll ; For they come to our hearts like the rain to the roses, And soothe with the fragrance they bring from the soul. 242 GEMS OF POESY AN ENCHANTED GARDEN. MAY HOBART. TIME'S footfalls echo in a garden named Adieu, A wondrous revery bends every flower. It is beautiful, so beautiful and vision-haunted, Mossy, nameless, and enchanted. Listen ! Like bewitching music methinks I hear fairies woo. Tis a wilderness of fragrance where mortals seldom tread. The garden's beautiful dream is like the romance of its dead. White roses are angels bending over That quaint nook once sought by an old-time lover. GEMS OF POESY 243 SPRING SONG. MARY EVANGELINE TRUEMAN. WINTER, who came 'mid storm, wind and strife, Having lulled himself to sleep wakes to newer life ; Far across the greening meadows float sounds of spring. As in each budding tree the wildbirds sing. The sunlight wears a more genial glow. And unrestrained and laughing rippling brooklets flow ; E'en the silence of eventide tingles into sound, While close to the surface throbs the heart of the ground. Oh, how can I resist the sweet impulse of spring's grace, When her mild-eyed, tender blossoms smile up in my face ; And their mingled odors with perfume filling the air, Rise heavenward like the sweet incense of prayer. Oh, breezes of spring, bear my soul along. Waft it onward and upward on the wings of song ! And as the birds their grateful homage in carols sing So 'wake my heart to deeper gratitude with the coming of spring. 244 GEMS OF POESY LENORE, MY OWN SWEETHEART. w MRS. IDA PENDER PIERSON. HEN from his couch the glorious sun Springs forth to meet the day, And through a fragrant Zodiac run With blessings on his way, I'll send a message, dearest one, Though blinding tears will start To think I ne'er shall meet again Lenore, my own sweetheart. And when the noontide hour is nigh I'd like to see your face. When you my wireless telegram Receive from boundless space. Remembrances which come to me Will bid dull care depart ; 'Twill render life more joyous then, Lenore, my own sweetheart. When stars shall pin night's curtains back These sentinels above Will whisper softly in your ear My messages of Love ; Love must be loyal, dearest one, Though oceans keep us 'part. A thousand good night blessings to Lenore, my own sweetheart. GEMS OF POESY 245 BESIDE THE THE SANGAMON RIVER. c PROF. JAMES REED DILLS. HILDREN, that go a-berrying By the fence rows up from the river side, Sweetly ye make your laughter ring, Your garments gay gleam wide. But vainly ye turn, looking down at me, Thinking me lone on the lonely shore. I've suffered, and longed, and have prayed — T am free ; And I am alone no more. Boatman, thou glidest so ghostly by, On the silent stream ; but canst thou say That another with me thou dost descry ? The rare light on my way. Fisherman, by the falling tree. Sudden thou turnest from rod and line. Than the rustling shade, or the glimmering lea. What more canst thou divine. Hunter, roaming the yellow sedge. What holdeth thy gaze at my side, as I pass ? What influence strange, or what mystery's edge, What wonder of waving grass ? Ah ! I wander in rapture, my beautiful one ! In the filmy gold that knits us near ; Our spirits are wedded — our waiting is done. And life is nameless dear. White as a phantom shape of mist, Crown'd and smiling in sunny gold. Thy dress by the air's clear luster kissed, Thou glidest the grassy mould. In my hand, like a light wind, droppeth thy hand, — I thrill at thy presence, thy blessing I own. By whatever course I cross the land I know I am not alone ! 246 GEMS OF POESY THE VIGIL. ELIZABETH A. LEWIS. *HE lagging footsteps of the weary night Withhold the comfort of the coming day, And seem with sorrow to be leagued When shadows o'er the heart hold sway. /The first gray streak of morning light That tips the eastern hills with hope Seems to the watcher worn and spent, Like light when angels stoop. It brings the promise of a glad relief, With each outspreading beam ; It lifts the mind to brighter thoughts. The soul to holier things. GEMS OF POESY 24^ THE NIGHT WIND. I OSCAR F. FROST. N a cadence low and mournful, Like a gently pleading child, I have heard the night winds whisper Ancient legends weird and wild. 'Tis. methinks, a restless spirit Ever passing to and fro ; And I nightly pause to listen To those tales of long ago. Sighing now 'mid ruined castles In a land beyond the deep. Strewing faded leaves and flowers Over graves where heroes sleep. And its mission there completed, It again will cross the sea, And in varied accents whisper Sad and mournful tales to me. "Fading, dying and forgetting, " Once I heard the night wind say, — Dropped a faded leaf beside me, — Through the forest passed away. 248 GEMSObPOESY MY HOME IS IN THE SOUTHLAND. M CARRIE HAMPTON MOTLEY. Y home is in the southland, Dame Nature's open door To every sweet and beauty Which love alone can give There is much to make us happy, Some events to make sad ; But blest with so much bounty We truly should be glad. Down here in sunny southland Don't think that we are mad. We are children of one Father, The stars and stripes our flag. So come along to our sunny southland, Come as the birds that fly. And come with no strange longing But come and come to stay. GEMS OF FOE S Y_ _ j49 THE NATION'S FLOWER. o CARAOLA M. CRAM. H, the roses blushed a deeper red And brighter was the sky, And the lily meekly bowed her head When the Nation's flower passed by ; The wild birds all were on the wing And sweeter was their trill, While the blue bells quite forgot to ring And the trumpet flowers were still. Oh, the brooklet dimpled 'neath her smile And gayly danced along, Yet held his breath as she paused awhile To list to the blackbird's song ; For the air was filled with perfume sweet' And pansy begged a thought. While a wee blue flow'ret at her feet Was pleading "Forget-me-not". *'0 hail ! all h'ail ! to the Nation's pride. The fairest flower of all ", A saucy Jhonny-jump-up cried, From his home by the garden wall. Then the blue bells began to ring And the trumpet flowers to blow. And the brooklet gay began to sing, All because they loved her so. 250 GEMS OF POESY THE SAILORS RETURN. LOUIS JOHNS. ^ HE was my lady and I was her lord, ^ In those happy days of yore, When together we played by the ocean waves On the sand along the shore. Oh, we built a castle in childhood dreams. And I was to be a king, And over the nation I was to reign, And she was to be my queen. When we had grown to be slender and tall, We stood on the shore one day. And I bade her farewell, a fond farewell. And I went sailing away. Oh the years they came and the years they went. And when I retiirned to the town I looked in vain for that fair face With the hair and eyes so brown. Down under the tree where we used to meet, Standing in the shade alone Is a marble slab half covered with moss. And her name is on the stone. GEMS OF POESY 251 'BEHOLD THE LILIES OF THE FIELD." o HATTIE HARTWELL J. H to live ! to live for wisdom in this life, Then be true to every vow ; be a true wife. Though fallen rose leaves have left only a thorn, There yet is fragrance to the spiritually born. Though tall gaunt spectres uplift in arms, Threatening instant death, heed not alarms ! Stand firm in the fire, Casabianca like ; Foes can never kill, they can only strike. The Power that bids be true is always near. The lightning's flash, the thunder's roar you need not fear ; In darkest storms of low hung cloud clefts Lilies grow and smile at all outside onsets. Wait till you are perfectly innocent ; Demand not perfection from stolid intent ; From those whose hearts, untouched by spirit power. Dwell in caves of thought, lonely nature's dower. Supernatural grace comes upon every on-e, Like dew on the lilies, a heaven sent boon ; Though, if ye love only those who love you, What do you more than sinners? O come be true. Oh what gladness to have spirit born life. Like fair blooming lilies free from all strife. Clothed with immaculate power divine. That Solomon's grandeur could not outshine Then oh be true ! take just as much care To .smile on the tired wife as on the lady fair ; Heed that impulse! present beautiful floweis. To the loving queen of your own home bowers. Wearied ones often neglect these graces That touch home hearts, making shining faces Like well tuned harps vibrating with love. In accord with the angels and our Father above. 2S2 GEMS Oh POESY PUSSY WILLOW. A EDITH MAY GATES. LIGHT footstep behind my chair, Two soft white hands upon my eyes ; I gruffly ask, "Now who is there ?" "Why, don't you know?" in great surprise, "It's Pussy Willow. " I gently draw her to my knee, This dainty maiden fair to see ; Pink, dimpled cheeks, soft eyes of blue, With glossy hair of nut-brown hue. That's Pussy Willow. I gently stroke her shining hair. And kiss her blushing cheek ; Her arm around my neck she flings As lovingly to me she clings. My Pussy Willow. GEMS OF POESY 25 j SPEAK THEM NOW. G. L. KENNER. w HEN I am dead, Dear friends, don't stand around my bed Your sympathizing tears to shed, And think of some sweet word to say To this inert and lifeless clay. And speak of deeds or kindly word, While living- you have seen or heard, And say ''how sweetly in his rest " And with sweetest flowers bedeck my breast. But speak them now. O speak them now. Speak words the living heart to cheer. While toiling through life's journey here, — A word of love to saddened heart May make the clouds of gloom depart. Dispel the gathering mists of sorrow And cause the sunshine of tomorrow To make the heart that once was sad To bound with joy and hope so glad. O speak them now. O speak them now. Wait not until the frosts of death Have froze the pulse and stopped the breath. Thy helping hand do not withhold Until the youth at last is old. For many hearts there are that crave For words of love this side the grave ; And the words you speak, the songs you sing May make the vaults of heaven ring. So speak them now. 254 GEMS O F P O E SY LAKE SUPERIOR. OLIVER S. SMITH. 'TILL and at peace, silent Superior, ' Rest on thy bosom is seen ; No stirring wind from lake to interior Ripples thy waters so green. Pictured rocks high in mirage we see In mimic delusion so near ; Great mammoth trees in air seem to be In nature's grand mirror appear. Grand and sublime, boisterous Superior, Lashing thy rock guarded beach ; Vessel that's built staunch or inferior * Struggles its harbor to reach. Wave that is mighty capped with the spray, Tumbling with deafening roar, Thundering in anger it hastens its way, Lashing in haste to the trembling shore. G EMS OF POESY 255 WINGS OF FRIENDSHIP. A LURIO PLESSWII.L. H ! tonight I sit here dreaming-, Hardly knowing why I do, Nor the reason why I'm thinking — Thinking, dear far friend, of you. Yes, in thought and heart we're nearer Than we were one year ago, And to each we now are dearer Than we ever thought to grow. Did I hear you softly call me, Then I'd answer, "Here am I ;" On the wings of friendship to thee Noiselessly I then could fly. I would bring with me some sunshine, And I fear some shadows too. Ah ! I know you'd grasp the sunshine Would you grasp the shadows too ? 256 G E MS' OF POESY ONLY A TRAMP. THOMAS A. GANNE. I AM only a tramp, unkempt and unclean, Shunned by all people whenever I'm seen ; Ragged and dirty, o'er the world I must roam, An alien from God and a wanderer from home. Now censure me not, for its pity I crave. For I'm only a day or a night from the grave ; Weary and hungry and dying alone, Lost and forsaken, a wanderer from home. Once I was happy with friends dear to me, How happy it would make me their faces to see, — To hear their sweet voices come-piercing the gloom^ Calling the wanderer back to his home. Could I but hear the sweet voices of old. Calling me, calling me in from the cold, Holding their hands, as in days that are gone. And feel that they welcome me back to their home. Gone, — they are gone and no more will they come, O could I but live to return to my home ; Fast would my footsteps return from the way That has led me to poverty, death and decay. Dying, yes, dying, no more will I roam O'er the world as a tramp, without friends or home ; For the earth will receive in its chilly embrace And give to this body its last resting place. Then when all is over, and I am forgot. Should it be your desire to remember the spot, — Just place a plain board at the head of my tomb And mark it ''A tramp and a wanderer from home. ' GEMS OF POESY 25J THE LONE SHEEP HERDER. A WILLIAM QUINN. S the shades of night Come creeping on, How lonesome it feels In a camp alone. The frog in the creek, Chirping his song, And the hungry coyote Sneaks slyly along. The hoot of an owl In a neighboring tree, And howl of the wolf Sounds mournfully. The camp fire slowly burning out. And not a soul For miles about The lone sheep herder. In a little tent. Six by eight. How lonesome it feels As the night grows late. 258 GEMS OF POESY THE COMIN' SEASON. MARY E. HUGG. HE autumn winds are blowin', The roosters are a crowin', Time for reapin' an' for mowin' Now is past away and gone. The early frost is comin', The bees have ceased their hummin', And the farmers now are numbin' Their ban's in buskin' corn. The turkeys are fat an' saucy, A struttin' roun' so glossy, An' the geese are awful bossy, With everything they meet. The ducks are in high feather, A quackin' all together, Enjoyin' the pleasant weather, Thinkin' that life is sweet. With Thanksgivin' just arrivin', An' all ban's hurryin' an' drivin', Thinkin' an' contrivin' To get things done all right. The bakin' an' the brewin', »- The bilin' an' the stewin'. All ban's up an' doin', Workin' with delight. The summer now is wanin'. The insects are complainin' ; Cold winter will soon be reignin'. For the harvest now is past. The autumn now is endin'. The fruit trees liave been bendin', The snowflakes are now descendin' With the cold and frosty blast. GEMS Of POESY 2sg FRATERNITY. CARRIE B. GEARY. 'RO'M the vista of years that have vanished Gleams a Hght that forever will last, Evolved from the tomb oi "ill feeling" 'Twixt the blue and the gray of the past. Thank God that the glorious sunlight Of peace shines o'er all this fair land, Uniting the hearts of the nation, The north and the south, hand in hand. From the east and the west they gather. From the north and the south they bring Rich blooms from the hill and the valley. All the beautiful flowers of spring. To lay on the graves of the heroes Who fell 'neath the cannon's breath. Divided by earthly warfare, They are brothers again in death. From the sunny land of palmetto. From the home of the graceful pine, A bridge of flowers now reaches, Upheld by a love divine. When the incense of flowers is wafted O'er the blue and the gray in love. May it mingle like blue-gray billows We see in God's arch above. May it rise to the throne eternal, Invoking till time shall cease, God's blessing on all the nation And a universal peace. 26o GEMS OF POESY WE ARE LIKE THE FLOWERS. EDWIN E. SWANSTON. 'HIS life of ours will compare with the flowers, We grow up straight, refreshed by'jthe dew, And as we grow and every hour We change a little, as all must do A spotless life is the fairest bloom With deeds of kindness and friendship true. We are like the flowers, short lived ; We grow up, wither and say goodbye ; The blossoms fade and the plant must die. Life is what we make it ; Let it be beautiful and lily pure, That fond memory of us may endure. The perfect flower gives promise of fruit, The sweet one perfumes the breeze ; Graft to the best, choose your likeness to suit, Take those that are bright and fair to see, Giving a promise of life to come When we have passed to eternity. GEMS OF POESY 261 THE SPIRIT REALM. c GERTRUDE E. HARRIS. OME tell me, thou loved one so dear, If aught there is to fear Beyond the wave of floating blue. To those who grasp the spirit true 'Tis but one step beyond To reach the portal from earth's mound. The genial clasp of hand With those of the unbroken band Stimulates the weary here below. To nobler acts as onward they go. One planet left, another reached. Hark! the greeting as we meet. Then strive to conquer each and ev'ry foe, 'Tis not by might nor power, — *Tis spirit linked with spirit every hour. 262 GEMS OF POESY THE SCHOOL HOUSE ON THE HILL. PERCY JENKS. I AM ofttimes thinking, Katie, of the school house on the hill And the happy hours we've spent together there; I am thinking of the stories 'bout the future we would tell, Of a life of peace and comfort. we would share. We've wandered over hilly lands and thro' sweet meadows green ; We've played all day long, dear, down by the pool. Oft now fancy brings me pictures of springtime's sunny days, When we gathered lilacs on our way to school. I dreamed last night that we were seated 'neath the maple trees. Back in childhood blessed with happiness once more ; There again you said you loved me, and that some day we would wed. Then I kissed you as I did in days of yore. The children then came running by with shouts of joyful play, You blushed as crimson as the rose of mom. I awakened then and all seemed drear, sweet life had flown away, All seemed sunken midst the hills where we were bom. CHORUS. Though time has changed both you and me. And years have come and gone, I love you just the same, Kate, As, when days were bright and long. O'h say just once again, sweetheart. That you will be my bride, * As you promised at the schoolhouse on the hill. GEMS 01- POESY 263 WHEN I THINK. I MRS. HENRY ADAMS. N MY quiet, calmer moments, When I've laid my gold-tipped pen aside, And think of those who have already Stemmed the dark, cold tide, — When I think how once they struggled Along life's rough and stony way. Meeting losses, bearing heavy crosses, And toiling hard the livelong day. And of how, with hopes soaring skyward. They plunged into the world's hard fight, Loving its dangers, laughing at its sneers, And with hearts glowing with prospects bright; When I think how their bodies suffered, And they were tired and weak and ill, Of how death came to rend life's illusion And reveal to them the Father's will, — Would they, I wonder, exchange places In their lowly mounds of rest, With those who are still drifting, unanchored. And with many dangerous shoals beset? Would the body change its dreamless sleep For the struggling tides of life again? Again to pass through strife, through sorrow. And writhe again in throes of mortal pain? Would the soul lose again its boundless freedom. Where it freely soars in realms of light. To be enthralled again by flesh and blood, Again to enter the portals of death's dark night? Would the loved departed come back again To stand on the cold, dark river's brink, Again cO be welcomed to the blessed beyond? — These solemn thoughts steal o'er me when I think. 264 GEMS OF P O E S \ TRIBUTE TO OLD; GREETING TO NEW. MLY KUTHERFOKD MORRIS. GONE the hours, gone the days, gone the years of a century ; Never more to be recalled, save alone through memory. To all its joy, and all its sorrow, pain and pleasure alike, adieu. With a sad farewell to the glorious old, we stand upon the brink of the new. Upon its verge we pause and gaze adown the distant aisle of time And reflect that ne'er again will such an hour be mine or thine As, the new-born century grows strong in years, we weaken day by day ; And e'er its close we all, perhaps, will long since have passed away. Our hearts grow heavy as we reflect upon the wasted years gone by. The "might have beens" illumined are; alas, too late! the bitter cry. Yet in the sky of thought there comes a radiant star of hope in view. Which points the way to final gain, retrieve the old within the new. Farewell, old years, to thee farewell, goodbye forever and for aye; A joyous welcome to the new we bring, we greet thee e'er the old doth die. With hearts of gratitude and love, to Him who blessings around us strew, We bow in praise for His glorious gift; He gave the old He gives the new. GEMS OF POESY 265 THE HEART BROKEN GIRL. T MRS. JOS. C. BULKLEY. HE sweetheart I loved has proved untrue, And now he is far away ; Alone in my room I think of the days When I was happy and gay. Perhaps he is happy in another's love, Perchance he is often sad ; There may come a time when he wills to come back And I will refuse to see the lad. How cold and cruel this world is to some, To others it is always fair ; I would rather live on with a breaking heart Than to let him think I care. Farewell, false friend, I can forgive And you I do not blame. There'll come a day when all shall know What broke this love in twain. 266 GEMS OF POESY IN CALIFORNIA. I MATTIE LOUISE PARKS. N THE Spring in California 'Tis a pleasure just to live, Everything- with life is stirring, And the flowers sweet perfume give. Grasses make the hillsides verdant, All the trees bright foliage wear, — How delightful just to live here In California, land so fair. In our State, when golden summer Comes with luscious fruit in store, It is then the birds sing loudest. As from nest to nest they soar. Leafy trees make lanes inviting, Nature's grandeur blinds all care ; Oh, how glad we are to live here In California, land so fair. In our glorious Indian Summer, During our rich "Harvest Home," Nature casts o'er all her mantle Bright with russet, gold and brown ; From the vineyards, purple clustered, Come the grapes so fine and rare, — Yes, 'tis pleasure just tO' live here In California, land so fair. In the winter, when the storm clouds Float o'er land and sea. Even then our western country Quite enchanting seems to be. Then it is the orange ripens, And sweet violets scent the air, — Oh, 'tis Eden just to live here, In California, land so fair. GEMS OF POESY 267 I THE SPIRIT'S FLIGHT. C. C. ARNOLD. AM dying, surely dying, — Yes, my life is ebbing fast; Soon my spirit on its pinions Will be wafted borne at last, For I see bright angels coming, Coming down with words of love. They will bear me home to glory And I'll live with them above. They are coming, coming onward, — I see them hovering near. With their bright and shining pinions And with words of love and cheer. They have come, and will they take me? Those bright beings from the sky, Up to glory's open portals There to dwell in bliss on high? They are bearing me now onward, — Hear the heavenly anthems ring; Yes, I soon shall reign in glory And there with bright angels sing. I have finished now my journey — Life's fleeting sands are o'er, I have reached the heavenly portals Of that bright celestial shore. Refrain : Sweetly, tenderly, angels are calling, Calling me home today. Why should I tarry? I will not linger, To' my home I'll away. Angels of mercy, angels of love, Wafting me to the bright world above. 268 GEMS OF POESY C THE LEPER. ROBERT HENRY CALLAGHAN. OULD I but wear the victor's crown at last, Unclean, a loathsome clod, Not vain the way uncertain feet have trod ; For God's own presence would a brightness cast Upon some new made unknown pilgrim sod Forever passed. I can receive with einpty hands no more, For peace with sorrow sleeps, I do not murmur tho' the death-shape creeps : The leper spoke. The moon shone in the door. Expectant death had struck — a night breeze sweeps The leper's floor. GEMS OF POESY 269 I GERALDINE. ANNA M. DOLL. 'M in love with the sweetest girl That ever you did see. Her eyes are bright As the stars at night, And the moonbeams on the sea. Her step's as light As a fairy sprite, And her name is Geraldine. Every night when the moon shines bright We wander by the sea, "With hearts so light and free. The stars above Hear the words of love That we whisper soft and low As on we go Along the silent shore. 2'jo GEMS O F P O E SY WOMAN. IDA BLANCHE WALL. HE Comes and man's trouble commences ; ' She speaks and her voice charms man's senses ; She sings and he offers his fortune and heart; She smiles and they marry never to part. She loves him alone — for his cash ; She slays him — his dreams go a smash ; He dies — home changes within the next hour, For her weeds bring her fortune and power. In sorrow she now — cuts a dash. But is wedded again like a flash — Another poor victim is caught in her net, Whose life soon becomes one ceaseless regret. She dies and leaves number two — ah well, Number one is waitinsf her advent in h . GEMS OF POESY 211 ONLY. C. E, SELWYN. o NLY a sailing steamship, Only a sad good-bye, Only his sweetheart's sorrow. Only a seaman's sigh. Only a stumbling footstep, Only a rushing wave, Only a cry that's hopeless, Only no crew to save. Only a drifting body, Only a cold white face. Only the frothing seafoam, Only of God the grace. Only a grim sea monster, Only one grave the less. Only some floating cordage. Only a mourning dress. Only the gate of Heaven, Only his duty done. Only hearts that are aching. Only a race that's run. Only his weeping mother, Only a lonely girl, Only a drowned sailor, Only green waves that curl. 2^2 GEMS OF POESY DOES OUR HEART GROW EVER KINDER. D SIMEON S. BOWEN. OES our heart grow ever kinder as the years they pass away. Do the angels hover nearer when at eve we kneel and pray^ Do we love our Savior better When our hair has turned to gray ? Do we often think of loved ones, That have long since gone before, And who now are watching, waiting For us on that distant shining shore ? And our hearts seem filled with sadness, As the days go gliding by, And I wonder are we living as to meet them In those mansions in the sky ? Oh, I fear our hearts grow colder. We must think more, we must pray ; Else our meeting will be a parting On that great and Judgment day. When we are called before our Maker, With the book helJ in His hand, And to read our record written By the angel on the stand. Oh, I ask you, think more, pray more ; I implore you one and all. For we know not the hour or moment When our Lord will make the call. GEMS O t POESY 213 INTUITIONS AT SUNSET. I O. L. HARVEY. 'VE been dreaming' I've been dreaming Of the scenes my childhood knew. While the setting sun was gleaming Through those shadowy isles of blue. O friends of my soul, in the land of souls ! , Ye whom I loved in the olden times, Ye come to me now as the past unrolls Its mystical secrets at sunset chimes. I've been dreaming, I've been dreaming Of the scenes my childhood knew, While the setting sun was gleaming Through those shadowy isles of blue. At the sunset of life may the heavenly light Illumine my soul with its splendors divine, While its radiant beams on my enraptured sight Through the portals of heaven shall shine, 2^4 GEMS OF POESY GLO?JES OF THE YEAR. FRANKLIN J. M. BARRETT. JANUARY is the king, February is. his ring; March is the Hon's roar, April is the open door. May is my only heirt, June takes n\v part : July is the old spy, August gives a sigh. September is the only giver, October starts to shiver ; November looks back, December is on the tr^ck. GEMS OF P O H S Y 2^5 MY PLAYMATE. FRANCIS PATRICK. REMEMBER that house by the woodshed, Where in childhood I often have played; And that wonderful kitchen cupboard With the broken dishes arrayed. It was built out of boards and rubbish That the others had thrown away, But for all that there was pleasure For us for many a day. The old piano was wooden, And the sofa was wooden too, But we wove for it in our fancy A cover of brilliant hue. The dishes were broken in pieces And the table a bare old board, And the food was most often fashioned From the earth's abundant hoard. But the sweetest memory to me Was of my playmate, that one day- God took from our midst, our rosebud, And carried her far away. And now when I wander in dreaming With the visions that long have fled. The brightest is of my little playmate In our home bv the old woodshed. 216 GEMS OF POESY C COME BACK, NORA VALE. ISABEL A. RUNNER. OME back, Nora Vale, the flower of Kildare, Come back to your own native land, With your rosy cheeks and smiling lips, Come back to your own native land. The ivy hangs green around the old doorsteps, The robins are singing as gay ; But the flower of all is you, Nora Vale, The robins say so in their songs. Do you know, Nora dear, that my heart is as lead Since you went away last spring ? The robins and sparrows they all hang their heads. They arc mourning for you, Nora Vale. The lark soars on high with his every day song, The bluebirds they chirrup so gay, The brooks and the stream go rippling along, — They all speak of thee, Nora Vale. GEMS Of POESY ^77 LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM. A. M. FLEMING. ONE pleasant summer evening, seated on the bank of a limpid stream, Were a youth and maiden, dreaming love's young dream. Thro' orange laden branches the soft moonbeams stole, The night wind whispered peace to their happy souls. Softly she played a guitar. As she sang of love, of silvery moonbeams and twinkling stars, Partaking of more than earthly happiness it did seem, As they sat there dreaming love's young dream. On the bank of the streamlet they meet no more. Having departed for the silent shore, And there beside life's pure flowing stream Forever to be dreaming love's young dream. 2']8 GEMS OF POESY C WEARY. JENNIE B. WHEELER. OULD I borrow the wings of Gabriel I would sail beyond the stars, I would light by the great white city And peep through the golden bars ; I would enter the rich-gemmed vestibule, With curtains like webs of gold, And peep through the sheeny meshes At the river of life as it rolls. I would open a door of marble And reach for a pair of wings, And make them fast to my shoulders, As ^aint and seraph sing. I would soar to the highest story And strain my eyes to see Showers of diamonds and rubies Drop into the golden sea. I would lift the myst'c curtain That falls from the gay rainbow. And gaze on the beauties of Eden Where the roses of Paradise blow ; And stirry-hued birds and birdlings Warble their sweet soft lay. And snowy- winged baby angels Thrill their song of love alway. G E MS OF POESY 79 MY MOTHER. w N. O. L. HEN I was a little child And knelt at mother's knee, She taught me about my Savior And also how to pray. My dear old mother, I see her yet Awaiting over there for me. My dear kind mother, I see her yet, As we often knelt in prayer. With her dear old Bible by her side Lying in the old arm chair. And she turned the leaves so gently, She knew that God was there. The dear kind face, I see it yet Awaiting me over there. For she went tO' Heaven years ago And is waiting for us there. And we will meet her bye and bye, And her hrppiness we'll share. Yes, we must live so as to meet her, As years and years roll by. And God will watch over us And take us up on high. And then we will live with dear ones In Heaven beyond the sky. 28o GEMS OF POESY SONG OF THE SUMMER NIGHT. o SAl.LIE RYNERSON. H listen to the music, music ! Of the summer night. Hear the insects chirp and sing, And notes of harp on zephyr's wing, And the silvery laughter ring- On the summer night ! Oh see the dreamy beauty, beauty, Of the summer night ! Of mystic stars so far away, And the moonbeams gentle ray, And a softer light than day, On the summer night ! Oh hear the tender voices, voices ! Of the summer night. For love's whisper soft and low. And friendship's tone are sweet you know. And childhood's prayer has earnest flow. On the summer night ! GEMS O F P O E SY 281 N OUR DUTY. MRS. DR. A. NIELSSEN. OW the evening stars are waning And the midnight hour draws near ; The wind is whispering softly And the rain falls fitfully. It will ease the pain I'm nursing, Will smother the burning flame When I hear the fierce tornado ^ Go rushing by in vain. When the surface is calm and peaceful, Gentle as the maid with sunny golden hair, And now the day is dawning There is work for me to do. I must help the poor and needy, Give them my brightest smile. Give them a word of kindness And blessings from my heart. How oft words fall as manna fell On some nigh fainting heart. Do not be waiting idly, there's ever work for you, And you must do your part. 282 GEMS OF POESY O RECONCILED. MRS. ELVA L. RAYMOND. NLY a while, a very little while, my dear, And all life hodds for us will be over here. Why should we part? we two, who've loved and wed And wept above our sleeping darling's bed? Whose shall she be in that blest world above? Or shall both miss it for the lack of love? E'en now I hear that little voice and sweet And the quick patter of our darling's feet. ' Not thine, but mine the fault, you say; Forgive, forget, I for forgiveness pray. It cannot be "until death do us part" Can ever mean "until a change of heart." Be reconciled ! I humbly, humbly pray, Let not this madness last another day. Yes, mine the fault, and mine the pain and tears ; Must they be mine through all the coming years? "Nay, mine!" she cried, "we must not. must not part. Our loved and lost shall bind us, heart to- heart." Her he enfolded in a glad embrace, And on them smiled an angel baby's face. GEMS OF POESY 283 LAURELS IN JUNE. I MRS. SARAH E. HEATH. N THE silence, lone and sweet, In the shaded road my feet Wandered through the leafy wood, On a day in June I stood. Wreathed and wreathed 'midst the green Banks of flowers could be seen. I'll forget them, — no, no, never. For their beauty's a joy forever. White and tinted all around, Low embedded on the ground, Lovely flowers, pure and white. Oh, the garden of delight ! Tow'ring 'mong the lofty trees The white wreaths there one sees. I'll forget them, — no, no, never, . For their beauty's a joy forever. Crowning laurel ! pure and white. High reaching for the light. Yes, up through the dim, dark wood All are reaching for "the good." To thy flower- voice I'll hark When the way seems dim and dark. I'll forget them, — no, no, never, For their beauty ''s a joy forever. 284 GEMS OF POESY A PRAYER FOR AMERICA. o HARRY CURTIS BAUGHMAN. Lord of Hosts! To Thee we raise Our voice in supplicating praise . Show Thou the way ! By the firm power of Thy hand, Lead Thou the rulers of this land — America ! Our orisons ascend to Thee, Keep Thou intact our liberty, To Thee we pray 1 Teach us, O God, Thy will to do. To freedom's cause help us be true. Show Thou the way I "Thy Kingdom come," Ruler Divine, Make pure this land and call it Thine ; Thy name we laud ! Oh take from us each baleful stain ; Let justice rule as Thou wouldst reign, Almighty God ! Amen. GEMS OF POESY 283 I I FORGOT. JANETTE HILL KNOX. saw a friend in need of just the care That I could give, but I forgot ; " In other worlds will it be shown to me The harm that my forgetting wrought ? I saw a timid, shrinking one pass by, To whom I might have given cheer ; A smile, nay, just a friendly glance Could quick have stayed the falling tear. I knew of one weighed down with sin and shame, Whose need of help was very great ; But when at last I reached my hand toward her I found it was too late, too late I How much of heartache I might thus have saved If I had always really sought To give a bit of comfort to each one Whose life touched mine when I forgot ! What if God's love forgot to answer ours ! What if He failed to heed our cry. And turned away until it was too late, And let our sin-stained souls pass by ! Dear Lord, I thank Thee Thou dost not forget, That Thou dost pity and forgive ; So help these souls I might have comforted, That they may come to Thee and live. 286 GEMS OF POESY I A MILLIONAIRE. LAURE BROWNE NELSON. M A happy millionaire, I am rich beyond compare ; I have come into my own. Mine the insect's hum and drone, Mine the liquid silvery notes, Gushing- from wild, feathered throats ; Mine the cascade's dash and spray, Mine the brooklet's purl and play, Mine the river's onward way ; Mine the tumbling rush and roar Of the breakers 'gainst the shore; Mine the red sun's glow and heat, Mine the driving hail and sleet ; Mine the soft rain's falling- tears. Mine the music of the spheres. Mine the iris half unrolled, Mine the daisy's heart of gold ; Mine the sedges, long and lush. Mine the mosses which I crush As they lie beneath my feet. Sprinkled close with violets sweet In the green wood's shade and gloom. Mine the foses' radiant bloom, Mine the lilies' rare perfume. But my love's pure graces are Greater wealth to me by far. Each fond glance and tender tone Tells me she is all my own. I am rich beyond compare; I'm a multimillionaire. GEMS OF POESY 28^ IN HEAVEN HE WILL MEET YOU. FRANK IRVING LEWIS. A MOTHER, sad and loiiely, is waiting for her boy To come home from his camp upon the battlefield. She sits beside the window, and while she's waiting there She falls asleep, and to the dream sprite yields. She thought he stood in the doorway, then the doorbell rang out loud She awoke to find a waiting messenger boy. With eyes bedewed with tear drops she read the telegram And found what changed to sorrow all her joy. The captain sent the message, saying that her boy was dead, He was shot down in the thickest of the fight ; For the Stars and Stripes he died, but he whispered as he went, "Mother, meet me with the angels Bright." 288 GEMS OF POESY CONSOLATION. M. EDYTHE GREENE. M INE eyes are dim with weeping, I see no gleam of light ; My heart is heavy laden I'm weary and sad tonight ; I long for peace and comfort, I sigh for home and Heaven, That the refuge Christ has promised May to my soul be given. For tonight my heart is heavy So to God's book 1 come. God's Book, so dear, so precious. Its story ever new ; I repeat its chapters over. And learn of love so true. That Jesus taught his children If, when by care oppressed, They'd cast their burdens on Him That He would give them rest. And resting on His bosom Find refuge, rest and home. A home in the bright hereafter. ^ In the soul's sweet home of bliss, I shall rest in the arms I'm longing for In a world more blest than this. And afar from pain and trouble, Afar from toil and care, Shall know true consolation Find sweet peace "over there." And safe 'neath God's protection Into the light I come. GEMS OF FOR SY 2Sq A LOVER'S PLEA FRED PEARCE MOONE. ^HE rising sun illumes the landscape bright And with rich radiance beautifies the scene ; The shades of darkness fly before the light, All nature smiles and joy doth reign supreme. The birds on high their joyous notes do raise, And in the ear of Heaven pour forth their gladness , In happy, rapturous songs of praise From hearts that never knew a trace of sadness. Thus in my heart, when thou doth smile on me, All sorrow, care and dark foreboding flies ; My wildly bounding heart doth throb with glee, All gladdened by the sunshine of thine eyes. My heart with rapture fain woiild rise and sing In praise of thee, my own, the whole day long. The slumbering echoes I would make to ring. And thou shouldst be the burden of my song. I'd sing thy matchless form, thy grace, thy beauty, Thy sparkling wit, thy dainty hands and feet. Thy lovely eyes and charming mouth so pretty. That all combine to make a soul so sweet. Had I the gift of poesy or song. The genius of a Burns or of a Byron, Then would I in some language sweet and strong Tell how thy loveliness had my heart set fire on. There's naught for thee I would not dare to do, There's naught for thee I would not dare to be ; For thee, beloved, I'd search the whole world through, For thee, Leander like, I'd even swim the sea Then, oh, my darling, to my entreaty list, I pray, Nor 'gainst me harden that sweet heart of thine ; But in thine heart let love assert its sway And yield to love's embrace, sweet one, and mine. 2go. GEMS OF POESY CRUSHED VIOLETS. ANNA LOUISE NORRIS. TWAS only a bunch of wild violets, yet she wore them Deep hid in the corsage of her snowy dress ; That is one reason perhaps, that I adore them. There's another szvecter reason I'll leave you to guess. Chorus. bunch of sweet crushed violets ! My burning lips have kiss'd them oft ; 1 think that I shall carry them When angels bear my soul aloft. My faithful heart, it ne'er forgets The maid that wore the violets. She was sitting at the great, gloomy organ; her fingers Were idly wand'ring o'er the white keys ; Her eye lashes were wet with a dew like that which lingers In the wild rose's cup ere it yields to the breeze. O what had I said to awake her heart's emotions ? what were the thoughts that those starry eyes could fill ? 'Twas only that I had breathed out my soul's devotion, Love was the sweet chord that our two hearts did thrill. She sprang to her feet, her snowy bosom heaving. The violets fell forever from the place above her heart ; Unwittingly she set her dainty foot upon them And some of the petals were rudely torn apart. She said, "I am a novice, and this is my probation. The white veil I have taken, my vows I shall keep : — . 1 reciprocate your love, I feel your adoration. But my heart, like those poor violets, forevermore must weep." GEMS Of POESY 2gi THE SUNSET HOUR. A EMMA M. KRVES. FTER the duties of the long summer day, As we sit in some shady bower, Let us watch the sky with its colors gay At the beautiful sunset hour. Sometimes we call it a golden sunset, Other times the clouds darkly lower ; Then again the rainbow tints are seen At the beautiful sunset hour. The ivy leaves, so waxen and bright, Climbing high on the old church tower, "With reverence let us gaze at the sight. At the beautiful sunset hour. And then for grandeur what can compare, After a storm's been raging with power, To see ice and snow on trees everywhere At the beautiful sunset hour. In this world if we looked at it right We might see more things sublime. We are told in the Bible that God hath made Everything beautiful in His time. 2g2 GEMS OF POESY I LOVE MY CUBA AND I LOVE YOU TOO. L. COLYN A. M. AN American youth went to war In Cuba's cause to fight. His proud fond mother watched him, Her eyes with tear drops bright. The battle raged around him, But onward still he pressed. At last a Spanish bullet Passed through his noble breast. Chorus. I love your country's colors, the red, the white and blue, . I love the boys who wore the gray, the boys who wore the blue But never can I go with you across the waters blue, For though I love you, darling, I love my Cuba too. They bore him to a house near by, And dressed his wounds with care — A Cuban maiden watched his bed And Cupid did his share. He told her of the home he loved. The mother waiting there, And prayed that she would go with^^him Its peace and joys to share. The gallant soldier bowed his head, His eyes with tears were dim. How could he further urge the maid Who so nobly answered him ? For he, too, loved his country And true he must remain. Though it broke his heart to leave her When he went home again. GEMS OF POESY 293 PLAY THOSE PRETTY TUNES AGAIN. TYLER li. JENKS. ^LAY those pretty tunes again, Bess, Play them on that same sweet guitar ; ust as in days long ago, love, Up among the wooded hills afar. A bare foot lad I wondered oft By the mill stream far away ; There first I met you, Bessie Roe, One soft shining summer's day. Your chubby hands with dainty touch Sweet music filled the air. And I a bashful country youth, To speak did scarcely dare Paddling up the winding river The toil but pleasure seemed ; Drifting down the current, Bess, Was but a pleasant dream. At even tide we ofttimes met When birds had ceased from song, And for those same old tunes My heart doth ever long. Many years have flown, Bessie, Since we were counted young ; Yet the chords are sweet, dear, And sweeter the songs you've sung. Oh mountains echo back again The songs I love to hear ; Echo back those charming chords And the voice to me most dear. Echo again those gentle words To greet my waiting ear ; Echo again that ringing laugh That fills my heart with cheer. 294 GEMS OF POESY. THE COTTAGE. IRENE HALL. MID the mountain heights Stands a lonely cottage Where once dwelt an aged mother • With her devoted son For years they lived together, For years they toiled and strove In this lonely cottage Amid the mountain heights. He lived only for his mother And she lived only for him In this lonely cottage Amid the mountain heights. He cared not for another maiden, He longed not for a different home Than this lonely cottage Amid the mountain heights. He loved the birds, flowers and loneliness^ Also the rippling mountain stream Near this lonely cottage Amid the mountain heights. But one day the angels took His dear old mother away From this lonely cottage Amid the mountain heights. Then a shadow o'er the home Was cast, which remained O'er this lonely cottage Amid the mountain heights. He wept for the dear one Who left him most desolate In this lonely cottage Amid the mountain heights. GEMS Of POESY 295 SPEAK A KIND WORD WHENEVER YOU CAN. HERBERT N. VVOODlUiRV. ALWAYS give a pleasant word and smile whene'er you can. It will always help to cheer some one on their way. Should you ever meet one whose face is sad and wan Give them just a pleasant word and turn night into day. Those who have riches and splendor, also heed my word, If in your daily travels a poor soul you should meet, Don't look at them with scornful eye and no kind word to greet, But give to them your hand and speak a kind word if you can. As through this world of life and strife you go, Many you'll meet with grief and woe. Uphold and lift your grief-stricken fellow man, By giving a pleasant word and smile when-e'er you can. 2g6 GEMS OF POESY FOR SARY'S SAKE. CAROLYN HEA. ^^VV/AL, Jim! I've hired ye fair an' square, an' I'll set ye at W. work today, But a few last things in the barg'in, I mus'nt forgit to say ; Yer work'll be light — I hain't hard to suit — but when I hire a hand There's a few small p'ints I make quite plain, fer I want him to onderstand. "I know yer trusty an' stiddy — I kin see that in yer face, But there's one thing I ensist on — ?io swearin about the place. No I hain't a perfesser', but tryin' to lead a decent kind of a life, And not fer the Lord's sake, nuther — it's jest to please my wife. "Cuss- words is awful repulsive to her, so I jest won't have 'em about. So if you've got any under yer tongue, you'd better spit 'em out. It's jest the same with euchre-cards — the sight of 'em raises my ire ; So if you've a deck about yer clothes, jest purify 'em by fire. "No, you can't even play out in the barn'! Yes, I'm 'strict', but ye onderstand. If the barg'in's too stiff, jest throw it up, an' I'll hunt another hand. / love my wife more than all this world, an', as long as I run this farm, Nuthin' shan't come on ary rod that she thinks any harm. GEMS OF POESY 291 "When Sunday comes, tho' you needn't wear a face as long as yer arm, I won't have no gang- of noisy lads a-yellin' around my farm ; But there's one thing I will ask ye, Jim, (an' 'twill please me if you'll agree.,) It's to slick yerself up in the afternoon, an' go to preachin' with me. Old Parson Slade comes out from town, an' drones an hour or so — I don't call it edifyin\ but I feel it my duty to go. If I keep the Sabbath Sary's way, I know I've kep' it right, An' kin lay my head on my pillow and sleep with an easy heart at night "Sary's taught me that vSunday's sacred, so I like to keep it her way, But if my rules don't suit ye, Jim — why, man! you needn't stay In the mornin' I shave an' put on my best suit, an' read in her Bible a while. Of course jj/^?/ don't have to do it, Jim ! (I see it makes you smile.) "M mighty good woman ? Yes, Jim — yer right! that's the way ye ought to speak, An' I b'lieve you'd like her way o' livin' if you'd try it week by week. 'Will you see her at supper?' (The old man choked, and brushed away a tear—) Lord ! I wish't we could/ (Jim — I s'pose ye knotved!) She's b'en dead this thirteen year I" 2g8 GEMS OF P O E S Y GOODNIGHT, BELOVED. J. T. BURGESS. OODNIGHT, beloved, God's angels guard and keep thee. Safe from all harm until the mornings light, And in the blessedness of His slumber steep thee, Goodnight! Goodnight ! Goodnight, beloved, — and shouldst thou never greet us Again this side the gates of pearly white, Watch thou our coming and be thou first to meet us, — Goodnight! Goodnight ! GEMS OF POESY 299 A SOUL GERALD G. MALLETT. w HAT is a soul? just an identity ; An individuality; a part of one whole. 'Tis separate, distinct from all other parts, Seemingly — yet, not so at heart ; For law and love bind every soul And make of them just one great whole. And this great whole made of all souls I do believe to be God's Soul. Are souls destroyed? I do not know. They seem to be — perhaps not so ; But they are changed ; yes, changed by time ; For as time moves so must a soul — Like turbulent waters in mountain streams That roll and tumble, fall and flow. Yet never stop — but go and go Until they reach the sea below — Is a soul. The relation a soul doth bear to God Is that of a second to the ocean of time ; And if we take from the ocean of time Only one wee second of time — What can take that second's place ? Indeed, throughout all endless space There's not one thing can take its place. There'd be a gap in the ocean of time, And though 'twould be a tiny line Only as broad as the second of time. Yet nothing else could fill the space. Just so with a soul — e'en the tiniest soul, "Tis just an identity — being unlike Anything else in the realms of space And there is naught can take its place. 300 GEMS OF POESY O CASTORIA. MARY J. DILLE. H my little little honey, Gib me some mo' ob dat money. No, youse cannot hab de money If youse do' call me yo' honey. Old gal youse come along wif me, We shall de grand old circus see Come now, do not make such a fuss, We shall see de hippopotamus. An' de elephant an' de bar, Come now befo' I pull your ha'r ; An' de tige and de monkey, Oh youse need not git so spunky. I'm gwine ter see dat big lion, Oh yes, I am, I'm not lyin' ; I will not wuk, no need of tryin', Fer I am to de circus gwine. So, Castoria, youse come along, In de concert youse join de song ; You all can sing a good ditty, Fer you am so wise and witty. Sho now you will make quite a hit, Fer you *m endowed wif great wit. Sho now I believe I will go Wif youse to de wonderful show. Oh don't you know, oh don't you know We am a gwine to de great show, An' I will git some mo' money O' dat little little honey. GEMS OF POESY 301 MY T FLORENCE E. BODEN, IS not for the greatest thing in the world My fancy would seek a measure ; Nor yet is it in the smallest of things I would have my muse take pleasure. But though there was never a sweeter theme, Nor ever was one more tender, Its praises were sung when the world was young. Surely I may homage render. I could bid the seraph of song, each day, Write swiftly with golden pen. To fathom with rhythmic line the deeps Of this wonderful theme; yet then. Not all the words of that angel's song, Although written with pen of gold. Could measure the depth, the height or breadth Of my love for this mystery old. I could ask of the Father a kindly two, From the ranks of hosts celestial. This treasure of mine to carefully guard From all the ills terrestrial. Yes, I'd ask of the Father not only two, But ten times two — more, may be, Who'd pluck the thorns from the path of life, for The tender feet of — my baby. 302 GEMS OF POESY I WILL PREPARE A DWELLING. o ANION STOEHR. VER ocean seas I wander, On country plains I roam ; Over in the deep dark forest I will pre])are and build a home. I'll sow the seed and harvest the grain To sustain us dwellers there, And to the Lord our praise we'll give For blessings rich and rare. Good deeds will bring their own reward, We will be generous and true ; We will not find the task so hard When God's will we try to do. GEMS OF POESY 303 '•GONE!" BAKER LEE YOUNG. WOULD you take to your heart this word's sadest meaning ? Would you know its vast pathos, its measureless pain ? Would you see its great shadow, which obscures the sun's beaming? And the numberless sorrows that move in its train ? Then think of it, whisper it, when some bright day is leaving, As the shades of the night in silence creep on ; When memory's loom o'er thy brain is fast weaving Sweet fancies of beauties that have come and have gone — When the bloom and the blushes of youth, so saintly, Have long ago faded from thy once beaming face. And with a step that is slow and a heart beating faintly. You are tottering down hill to your last resting place. Say it when in anguish at the grave of some dear one. As your heart in relief gives vent to its tears ; When the cloud of death's sorrow eclipses the sun, And stretches its shadow down the vista of years. Thus, late in the evening, when the daylight is dying, Thus, late in thy life when its glories are past. Or in some old churchyard where the tree tops are sighing O'er the graves of our dear ones who are sleeping their last. You will read in deep sorrow that word's saddest meaning. And take to your heart its measureless pain ; And from out of thy soul's sacred fount will be streaming. Tears just as thick and as fast as the rain. But cheer up, fond heart, and cease thy repining ; Check those sad tears that are falling in vain ; And look aloft at the skies where the bright stars are shining, And think of the recompense you are certain to gain. ?o^ GEMS OF POESY THE LILY AND THE BUTTERFLY. IDA CHALMERS MOREHEAD. EE! yonder from that dew-kissed lily white ' A gauzy yellow butterfly takes flight ; A symbol of resurrection, it upward wings. E'er the sun again across the blue dome swings, It ma)^ have filled its hour of time and place, And fluttered o'er the borderland of space ; Just as thy soul and mine must pass beyond. Thro' the invisible to love most fond. Some hand the lily's slender stem may break. But the wind heavenward will its perfume take ; 'Tis the essence of things which means the most. And finds the soul its place midst heaven's host. Like the butterfly we sip of sweets today, Like the broken lily slowly fade away Who shall say that beauty and life are lost Or see where the soul the borderland cros't ? GEMS Ot POESY 305 A VISION IN THE TWILIGHT. LILLIAN LEVERIDGE I HAD closed the volume of poems That I had been reading long, And the beautiful thoughts of the poet Were flooding my soul with song, While I stood, in the autumn twilight. In fancy, beside the sea, And listened its low voice lisping A murmuring melody. Like jewels the clear stars glittered In the measureless, blue abyss. And I seemed to feel on my forehead The touch of the salt sea's kiss. The autumn leaves whisp'ring around me. Resplendent with ruby-shine. The stars, and the sea, and the twilight, Were the poet's dream — and mine. But there came through the dusk a vision More lovely than stars or sea ; 'Twas the face of a fair child angel, Flower-like in its purity ; And it seemed that he listened, raptured. To music unearthly sweet — Mayhap there were dulcet harp-notes Adrift from the Golden Street. It was only a sweet, strange fancy, This beautiful angel face. But it comes to me in the shadows And smiles with a peerless grace. Then I gaze with those blue eyes upward. For quiet and rest is there, Like the calm of a benediction That follows the voice of prayer. 3o6 GEMSOFPOESy Y A MEvSSAGE. S. MANSFIELD. E btars of silent night, In yonder infinite height, Upon the empyrean blue. This message sweet indite, In hieroglyphs of light Before her gladdened sight; Dear heart, he loves you true, He loves but yon. O winds of summer night, That loiter in your flight, Dank with the falling dew ; Haste 'neath the crescent's light, This message bear aright, Her ravished ears delight ? Dear heart, he loves you true., He loves but you. G E M S O F POESY ?07 A NOBLE CALL. w MRS, MARY A. GIBBONS. HY do you frown on the fallen And sneeringly turn away ? Remember you have a life to live And it ma)^ return to you some day. Do you ever stop to reason And put yourself- in their place ? Of the many snares there are in life To trap the human race ? Now try to consider And look at it just as you should ; And if you have the nobler life Then put it to some good. I am sure in this life there are many Who need a helping- hand, So try to uplift the fallen, — It is a duty most grand. 3o8 GEMS OF POESY CHRIST HAS RISEN. G EMMA B. STANDLEY. REAT snow-white Easter lilies, Crowned with the sparkling dew, Thy odor pure and fragrant Filled all that garden through. For where the Christ was crucified There was a garden too ; And close beside the sepulchre Sweet herbs and spices grew. The morning light was breaking Within that garden fair, When angels from the open tomb Talked with the Mary's there And told the blessed tidings In words so strange and sweet ; "He is not here — is risen To make thy joy complete. " Ah, Joseph of Arimathea, Thy tomb hewn out with care Was lighted with the resurrection glory, For Jesus rose from there. By faith we see thy glory, O Christ divine alway, From out the tomb within that garden For us He rose that day. Ah heart of life's load weary, Twine with thy prayer throughout The Easter lilies pure and white, And Rose and Sharon there about. And bring the sweetest immortelles, The Easter lilies, spotless, white, And think with joy, O saddened heart, Thy dead still live, though lost from sight. GEMS Of POESY jog THE LAST FLOWERS OF MY GARDEN. MRS. M. J. MCGRATH. ^HESE are the last ones of my garden, Left watching over some plot Where in repose sweet gem alyssium, The beauty of the lot. The last are bending, standing lonely In the chilly autumn blast, Gathering up some recollections Of lovely summer past Though they greet in life like beauty The chill October blast. They bow in resignation That they must go at last. Must thou die, O fair, fond flowers, And join others of the past ? Must thou yield to nature's summons Ere the robe of winter is cast ? In them the beauty of God is depicted, And if they, had the gift of speech They would say, "Above all things God's great Kingdom, to seek. " I love to watch them from my window. Fair flowers, good gifts of God, And I'll miss their lovely presence When they are resting 'neath the sod. But we'll meet again in springtime, That charming time of year, And while they sleep I'll oft keep vigil Till I see them peeping near. The humming bird will then return From the sunny clime, the south, To sip and gather nectar From the sweet white rose's mouth. 310 GEMS OF POESY ^'WAITING" MRS. L. GILBERT JARMAN. SHINE on, myriad stars ; sing, sweet nightingale, sing; I listen and wait in silence each moment my true love to bring. So weary the hours and lonely — each one a century long. Oh! hasten, sweet nightingale, hasten, and bring him to me with your song Am I waitiug in silence .? Ah no, for ftiy heart Beats high in responsive jest. O night! how solemn, it seems but a part Of the gloom that is falling so fast. Hark! listen, sweet nightingale, listen, for footsteps are drawing near; Your song is sweeter, the stars shine brighter, the darkness and gloom disappear; The lilies are smiling, the glad dew is falling, the roses bid him welcome at the gate. Oh I listen a moment at iny heart fondly beating, while I sit by my window and wait GEMS OF POESY 311 DESTINY. HERBERT C. STONE. 'OME great wisdoms grow languid ' In the darkness of the night ; Others grow fame and fortune, Then the soul and heart are light. "Why?" I know not, nor can I tell. 'Tis strange, or through destiny Those envious of fate That makes the soul to love and to hate. Singers they long some time in a dream, Pining away in solitude lone, Thinking of castles in future to build. But alas, he burdens his brain. He longs for the future his fortune to gain. And some go on till gray hairs it has told Are in his young head before it is old, And he dies in seclusion, alone, yes, alone ^12 GEMS OF POESY A POEM FOR ALL. H SELINA WRATTEN. OW many are the moments by the thoughtless thrown away By the young, the old—how very sad today. Look well to the moments, make them all tell Opportunities fly swiftly and forever from thee ; They pass over thy head unheeded, may be. The time that is thine use it well, In the end ^XQ'aX. thy reward will be, thou hast done well. We have a foe to battle with, the monster old sin. His servants are legion, the victory hard to win. His wiles and -snares encircle us around. He is a crafty old fellow and holds well his ground His smile so beguiling he often doth win And many are the unwary by him taken in. ■His way at the beginning leads pleasantly along With mirth of all kinds, the wine cup and song ; The moments pass by unheeded, are forever gone. While enjoying a banquet with old sin But the day will come, I am sorry to say, When all will be changed; then how hard the way. For the followers of sin most bitter at last. Will he the thoughts of the moments unheedingly pass ? Oh beware of his enticements and never be found Inside of his castle or on old sin's ground. Rather choose the pure and truthful way. Watch well the moments that maketh the day. And when the call cometh thy journey to make The summons by Him who died for thy sake, As thou served Him on earth with Him thou will dwell, Thou heeded the moments and spent them all well. GEMS OF POESY 313 JUST CLAY. o IHlRA A. CESLEK. NLY clay, but yet so proud, so vain, ^ Unmindful of whom you cause a pain. But why this selfish pride, this self-esteem ? We are human all, — come, cease the theme. O put it all aside, every single bit, And be as God has commanded it. If mortals sin must we them condemn And ever anon keep censuring them ? No, love all with a pity broad and good, Be in this world what mortals should. Lend a kind hand to the weak and frail. Help all whose life bark's hard to sail To stay up out of that awful dark deep sea That is ever tempting the weak to flee. The world is filled with vice and crime. Evil temptations surround us all the time, And our virtues are negative until tried ; So let us not be quick others to chide. God gave us His law, — love and forgive And in peace and harmony ever live. 314 GEMS OF POESY THE MATINEE FIRE. T MRS. ALICE KIRKPATRICK. HE fire started at half past three, The flames came creeping- up the wall. The act the people wanted to see Was hastily turned from joy to gloom. While Eddie Foy, so fearless and brave, Kept playing- on, thinking all would be saved. He ordered the orchestra to play on While he did his part on the stage ; He captured the audience's attention. The fire meanwhile, in a rage, He proved himself a hero Amid the noise and din. Hurrah for Eddie Poy 1 Our hero, good for him. While the scorching flames spread wide Small hands were clinched and children cried, While husbands and wives died in their fright. 'Twas painful to see the terrible sight. Six hundred, in all, were taken away E'er the close of that fatal day. GEMS OF POESY 315 NOT MONEY TO GIVE. M MRS. ROB'T MCCUEN. ONEY, is it you're seeking ? None have I to give, — Naught but the words of Jesus ; "Come unto Me and live". Life, the poor mans portion, Can pure and happy be. With Jesus for his Master He surely can be free. Yes, free from sin and folly, Free from worldly gain, Free to speak words of wisdom Unto the weary brain. Shelter us O, our Father, Keep us under thy wing ; Hold us, as Thou canst hold us, From the world's embittered sting. 3i6 GEMS OF POESY GOD LIGHTS THE STARS. I ROSA BUDDE. cannot sleep this night : I sit at my window and view the beauteous sky, The air is cool and refreshing but my soul if? restless. The bright stars glisten in the dark blue sky. Feathery clouds roll above like waves, And the great silvery moon Is playing hide and seek with the stars. A restful calm and peace descends o'er all, God lights the stars and sends the world to sleep, And I am lulled to sweet repose. GEMS OF POESY 317 ALL A DREAM. GRACE E. MC ALLISTER. ^ HE came, she went, 'twas all a dream ; 5 I wept, I breathed a prayer. She said she loved, but, no — my God ! For me she did not care. Her trembling hand she lay in mine, Upon my breast her heart ; And, sheltered in my fond embrace, We vowed but death could part. She pressed fond kisses on my lips, And, lost in deathless love, Like some frail woodbine to the oak. She clung but did not move. What silent rapture chained my soul, What perfect trust was there. She said she loved, but no — my God ! For me she did not care. She came, she went, 'twas all a dream, A dream 'twill ever be ; While life doth last my mind shall rove Like some lost ship at sea. I'll stand beneath the silvery stars. Wrapt in the night's embrace ; I'll gaze upon the pallid moon. And think I see her face. I'll hide below the flower crowned hill. And listen to the stream. Methinks that it will sadly say, "A dream, 'twas all a dream." Can I forget those lovelit hours. Thy words that seemed so true ? Alas ! no woman e'er shall win My heart of hearts but you. ?i8 GEMS O F P O E SY T RAIN. AL HOHLT. HE erstwhile cheerful sky Hath put on a sombre veil To hide her face and cry, And now the swift tears fall, Revealing her pent up agony. Why weeps she, love, Why sorrows she ? Is her heart not brave, her will not strong. Not like this of mine ? For love for thee I sometimes long, nor weep nor sigh, But thick my heart grows and strong in me. Alas, dear heart, that I Should for a moment chide The tearful Lady Sky. Forget it, dear, that I Matched time against eternity. GEMS OF POESY sig A TRUST. AMELIA FANKKOUSER LE FAIVRE. SLEEP ! not tired nature's restful state, Repairing- wasted energies and wait A bright, a happy consciousness, ah nay ! But that produced with scientific skill By my white robed attendants, who at will Reduced the animate to senseless clay. My trusted nurses will their vigil keep All through the dark and silent, senseless sleep. My soul looks forth as through a rift in stone, Its tenement too dead to move or moan ; He whom I trusted with my life, whose skill Ne'er wanting is, is faithful still, and they Whose white robed forms I see all fears allay, And life creeps back into my veins; but still Should science fail, a higher Power I know Will lift me from the brink and strength bestow. 320 GEMS OF POESY MY DREAM-LAND LADY. o EMMIE LUCAS BASS. LOVELY eyes of pansy blue, I've found the place where wishes come true ; 'Tis the Garden of Dreams, 'tis the Garden of Dreams ! And slumbrous it lies 'neath the pale moon-beams There I feast on her kisses, my couch is her arms, While the poppies bow low their heads to her charms And in all the night-world there is only we two. In that garden where all my wishes come true O stars put out your misty light, firefly cease to glow ; For out of the moonlit shadows she comes, Whispering love words low. Swift to my arms She brings the charms 1 longed for the whole day through ; cruel eyes ! would you know my love ? I'll tell you — 'tis you, you, you ! . Yes, you are my dream-land lady When the weary day is gone ; 1 hold you bound in the cords of love That melt in the dews of morn. G E M S O E P O II ^ Y j-v ]MY COTTAGE HOME. MRS. VEREY GENEVA CHAMBERLIAN. I HAVE just sent a letter to my far off western home, Telling them I'm comhig back, never more to roam. Tis ten long years ago, oh, I never will forget. Thoughts of the struggles of that day linger with me yet, As I shook hands with father and kissed my mother dear, While sis was trying hard to check the welling tear. And then there v,-as another waiting for me there, With eyes of deepest blue and lovely wavy hair, — ^ How hard she tried to wish me well ; When little Jim sent up a shout, "The train's a comin' in !" I started out a roaming, a fortune great to win. And thought to gather riches was really not a sin; But in palaces I've visited and homes so rich and rare, There is something thn is lacking, a something that's not there, Life seems to me a farce, a laughing, mocking thing. That, smiling, leads you on to misery and sin. I've not gained the highest mark, but am satisfied, you see. To take home what I've gained by hard work and honesty And finish out the Tfe work God ordained for you and me. To enjoy in peace what I have earned 'neath my own vine and figtree. It is years since I've returned, leaving behind din and strife. In the sweetest little cottage I have settled down for life. And the girl that proved so true is my charming little wife, If comfort you would take just follow my advice • With a good true little wife you're as happy as can be, With nature's little living pictures a climbing on your knee. Through the summer you must labor, for the winter's store provide, To enjoy declining years with your loved ones at your side. • S22 GEMS OF POESY ASHES OF ROSES. o MARTHA JENIVA FREELAND. VER the dim, misty hills of time Beautiful visions arise, — Of aims to achieve, of successes to win, That will make life a splendid surprise. The feet were impatient to scale the heights And bask in the roseate glow. Where "milk and honey" are sure to abound And the clusters of "Eschol" to grow. A masterful purpose that laughs at defeat Is tugging at all the heart strings. Through the purple haze that fancy weaves Are deciphered marvelous things. Home, with its ideals, is put aside, Like our childhood's battered toys; Though an aching void will ever plead For its sweet, unsullied joys But the rosy tints fade into calm, sober gray, As the pulse and the pace wax more slow; And hope's bright ignis fatuus dances away As, regretful, we trace its false glow And thus, as the cycles of swift flowing years Drop their ashes o'er youth's golden dreams. The' temples we reared with such infinite pains Fade away, like the sunset's red gleam. GEMS OF POESY 323 THE CREW OF THE LOCOMOTIVE. ROBERT A. BARKER. I sing a song of the faithful, the hardy and strong and bold . Of a straight devotion to duty that cannot be paid with gold, Not a song of the militant valor displayed on the firing line ; But of those who, always in danger, show courage almost divine. Of the hardy crew of the engine the soul of my song shall be. With the whistle's scream and the hissing steam For a suitable symphony. I sing a song of the anxious; of the wistful ones at home ; Of the sleepless eyes of the loving, when the loved are slow to come. Not the beautiful song of welcome that arises from day to day ; But the heart's outcry of foreboding that is never too far away. Yet the faithful crew of the engine the soul of my song shall be ; For, early or late, the home must wait Until duty shall set them free. I chant the dirge of the mourners, the widow's and orphan's prayer That asks of the Great High Father the courage and strength to bear The pitiful prayer of the grieving, with memory backward bent To a hasty kiss and a cheer}^ smile and a wave of the hand as he went. But the sturdy crew of the engine the soul of my song shall be. And of duty well done, when the sunset gun Has sounded for you and me. A paean then for for the fallen, who fronting grim death alone. And keeping their trust of a hundred lives, have counted as naught their own. Thank God for the hero spirit that flames in the human soul, Lifting it far from the plane of Itfe where the terrors of death con- trol ! With the dauntless crew of the engine the soul of my song shall go And thank God, then, that we have such men To die, if it need be so ! 324 GEMS OF POESY DEATH OF AicKINLEY. H E. J. BOWEN. ^ ARK, ye nat'ons ! heir that assassin's tread ! Whose bullet filled the world w-th boundless grief; Lo ! caused a world to weep and bow her head, In sorrow for her grand beloved chief ! A stricken world may groan ; but oh, the cost Of this foul crime creates a scene wide-spread; So wide the earth recoils, while speech is lost And tears but flow above our martyred dead! O martyred President ! we have no youth But who will rise to honor thy great name ! Thy golden page of glory, soul of Truth To live forever in the Hall of Fame ! A drQoping eagle and a flag half-mast, A virgin blade of grass upon thy grave, Will thunder down the ages on the past The legacy ye left unto the brave ! No arrow more can pierce thy gracious soul Enthroned upon the altar that ye won, A character so grand, so perfect, whole ! So like the glorious setting of the sun ! A loving wife with fortitude supreme Kneels at thy bier and bows her queenly head! Oh, sympathy ! away with words which seem So empty, for she bows above her dead ! A nation's dead ! O what a scene is here ! Fond hopes broken ! softly, softly tread Until the sun shall rise and flowers appear To sweetly bloom above our martyred dead. GEMS OF POESY 325 IN THE CHAMBER OF DEATH. KATE W. ROUDEBUSH. ILENT as the night that is undisturbed Save by the soft breath of a whispered word, Wrapped in the cold mantle of grief's dark gloom, Piav'ng for the soul in the silent room. Lit only by the candle's pale yellow light, Waiting for the soul to take its still flight ; Kind hearts that are crushed by the weight of grief Praving to God to send them some relief. Bending with true love, and tenderest care. Over the still form that is lying there. Wiping the white brow that is moist with sweat, Kissing the cheeks with fond heart's regret. Watching with tear-dimmed eyes the pale sad face. Trembling lips are murmuring words of grace ; Whispering words of fondest love and hope, Longing to strengthen the shattering rope. Burdened with pain, sorrow and grief untold. Bearing his cruel fate like a hero bold ; Smiling as through the white, half open door He gets a small glimpse of the far off shore. Then with a hush as silent as the tomb Footsteps of angels are heard in the room ; Up to the white cot they softly steal. Around which the sorrowful mourners kneel. And gently the white weary hands they fold, — He smiles, though his heart no more grief can hold ; No fear, they will guide him through valleys dim Home to his Maker, our God and our King. S26 GEMS OF POESY SHADDER PICTURES ON THE WALL. WILLIAM HUBERT INLOES. WHAT happy times, Lucindy, these dancin' flames recall ; When you an' me, Lucindy. together both were small, When we sat o' winter evenin's in the fire's cheerful glow, An' gran'pap sat a smokin' by the blazin' logs, you know.; An' gran'ma sat a knittin' an' ghostly tales would tell, — My, how we'd shake an' tremble, an' sometimes we would yell As we saw some monster creepin' an' skulkin' in the gloom Seemed that ghosts an' spirits had nigh 'bout filled the room. An' then we found that gran'pap wus jest a playin' tricks, He had a way o' jokin' an' get you in a fix ; An' them awful creepin' monsters that we both can recall Wus only shadder pictures gran'pap made upon the wall. Somehow I feel, Lucindy, I'd like to see agin The old place an' the hearthstone an' hear the fallin' rain Come down an' beat the shingles like when I used to lie An' hear the storm a ragin' an' see the lightnin' fly. Life's ben full o' changes fur both of us since then, The old folks has been buried mor'n three score years an' ten ; But we grow up an' married afore they passed away. I've never sorrowed that we wed, have you, Lucindy, say ? We've lived jest like all mortals, bitter mingled with the sweet But there's alius one real happy hour returns my heart to greet, When we sit alone together an' the dancin' flames recall The time o' shadder pictures gran'pap made upon the wall. Fur we wus both together, wus brought up side by side, Then you, the lonely orphan, become my lovely bride. An' you've alius ben a blessin' an' seem so more an' more, As we travel on together towards the golden shore. Seems that all who knowed us in them happy childhood days Has gone before an' left us to journey on our ways ; But I tell you what, Lucindy, the happiest days of all Wus when we watched as children shadder pictures on the wall. GEMS Ot POESY 327 I REFLECTIONS. CORAL J. IklSH. stood on the deck of a steamer, Gazing down into the depths below ; Just then I was intensely happy, For I loved the water so. As I stood there in deep silence The thought then came to me Of the many kinds of work required On the land and on the sea. God has given each man a talent And the power to carry it through ; If he will but seek to find it And be ever steadfast, ever true. And he has given to him earth's beauties. All the trees, the birds and flowers, Just to make his work more pleasant And to brighten all his hours. He has given man every blessing. And his watchful care should prove That we are his beloved children, And at last he gave us love. Oh how wonderful his power. And how great were all his plans ; For he made all things and placed them At his will throughout all lands. How grand and beautiful is the thought That through this war of love and strife Each living thing and object Has a noble mission in this life. Then all praise to God Almighty ! For the joy and peace his love brings ; Give all praise to God, our Father, — Praise to the giver of all things. ^28 GEMS OF F O E S\ THE NORTHLAND WILL BE CALLING. MRS. CARRIE ROBERTS. WAIT, dear little birds, till the return of sweet spring, Then we will welcome you here, to our Northland to sing, When April comes, with bright sunshine and gentle showers To awaken the buds in the wildwood bowers. The Johnnies will jump up and the daisies creep through. Oh, then, little birds, we'll be calling for you, Calling when the beautiful May flowers over the meadows are strewn, Calling when the roses bloom in the iuerr_\- month of June. Our groves are so inviting, with their cool shady nooks. And what is more enchanting than the gentle murmur of our brooks. You'll come then, hie away to the Northland clime. To sing and to love in the good old summer time. Come here and stay through the long summer days, And sing your songs in \-our own sweet ways. Wing your way right along, don't wait to inspect. Our laws are made and ready your little nests to protect. And when autumn comes and the leaves turn to red and gold, Then the smoky days will come and the nights be getting cold. We must then say, "Good-by, birdies, it is time to go- Back to the sunny Southland, where the sweet magnolias grow. Each year we know you'll come, as }'ou've ever done before, And we'll be ready to welcome you, as in days of yore. Back in the Southland stay, while the winters here are drear. We'll ever call yoii back again when the sweet summer times are near." » G E M S OF P O E SY 329 IN THE SWEET LAND OF ALABAMA. JEFFIE C. LLOYD. THERE'S a quaint old fashioned homestead, That I never can forget Far away in Ahbama, Where my childhood days were spent; W^here the old time roses blossom, And the sweet clematis twines, WHiere the mocking bird in springtime Builds her nest among the vines. But ah ! many years have passed away, And many a change been made, Since long agO' with loved ones there I played 'neath the oak tree's shade. Ah! 'twas there I loved a sweetheart, In those happy days gone by; In that old home we were v/edded. Then my heart knew not a sigh. But soon the angels took my Jamey Yonder to that home above. Left me here so sad and lonely. Took from me my only love. Oh, blame me not because I weep. And o'er this wide world roam ; Since then I never yet have found One place that seems like home. CHORUS. In the sweet land of Alabama, far away, Stands an old home where I used to love to stay ; Oh, I wonder if that old home now is like it used to be When we gathered round the fireside so happy, gay and free. I wonder if my brother Jack goes hunting any more, And if this eve the old dog Rufe is baying as of yore ; Oh I wonder if the darkies in the cabins there tonight Are picking on the banjo while the moon is shining bright. 3S0 GEMS OF POESY THE BREATH OF THE CHINOOK. w CAPT. R. K. BEECHAM. HEN the "beautiful snow" covers valley and field All the landscape knee deep lying o'er, And the Frost King the rivers and rills hath congealed, From the mountains to Puget Sound shore; When the "Evergreen State" w^ears a mantle of white, Spotless trains of the monarchs of old, And the dark inland sea is the shadow of night In the midwinter day bright and cold : When the cedars like spectres stand out tall and straight, High against the blue arch of the sky, And the hemlocks and firs, all unused to the weight Of their white robes, in agony sigh : When the cattle, unhoused, and the wild deer in vain Seek a wisp or a brake or a blade, When the "beautiful snow" hath cast Washington rain For the nonce out of sight in the shade: Comes the gentle "Chinook" through the coast mountain wall, From Pacific's vast, surf-beaten strand; Soft of touch with a step like an angel's footfall. And she breathes her warm breath o'er the land. Lo ! the monarchs of old in their white togas, free, High enthroned, glory crowned and serene! But from mountains bold, down to the isle- jeweled sea, All the forests and meadows are green. GEMS OF POESY 331 FIRE FANCIES. IRENE YOUNG. I AM sitting alone by my fire, sweetheart — Alone, yet not alone — The friends of the past in my dreams have a part; From mem'ry the firelight has caused them to dart I'ill they people my home. Fond mem'ry has treasured the dear mother's face With its sweetest of smiles. The father whose life taught us wisdom and grace, With brothers and sisters ; — each in the old place, — As my firelight beguiles. The friends of my childhood and girlhood I see Shining out from the past. Come light hearted youths and maidens so free, To join with the" children who play at my knee. While the embers shall last. * * :!-■ ;|c =:: >1: * * * The firelight has faded ; — once more I'm alone With my thoughts, dear, of thee. Other dreams of the past are to mem'ry's cave flown Where dwell the departed who entered my room With thought's magical key. Alone with you, dearest, my dream-fancies play O'er the sweet days of old — Where in life's early spring-time, happy and gay, You stole my young heart's love and bore it away By the sweet tale you told. All else I relinquish to wander with you O'er the mystical way Which leads me to drink of life's pleasures anew — The dearest earth gave to me, sweetheart, was you— Bv vour side let me stav ! 332 G E M S O F P O E S Y THE WORLD'S KING( CLARA M NAUL. T HE world's King has passed today, Sound all the harps and timbrels so loud ; That our risen King will pass this way, So ring the bells and gather the crowd. And the King of Kings has come tO' stay ; And let nO' one the world's King betray By unbelief, for 'tis a true report That our King Jesus has come to stay; You know his friends he did exhort That he would be w^ith them alway. For Christ s id, "Lo, I am ever near;" Even unto the end of the world that is today, — And all the todays as long as we live Down here and when taken up above ; He will still be with us, with God we're to live Now and forever for our King is love. So wh}' are we weary or lonely today, Afraid to move on, fearing it is wrong? Christ will go with us, don't delay To ask his aid every day. If we can help to cheer some burdened soul, That is weak and heavy laden. Come unto me and rest your weary soul, There be many that be weary burdened M'^ith toil in the heat of the day, so come and rest, And there upon Christ Jesus' breast reclining While the fevered soul releases All the cares and worries of this world, For there is a balm for the oppressed. So flee to Christ and be blest and rest. ) GEMS OF POESY 333 THE WOOD-LAND STREAM. A J. W. SANTEE. LONG thy banks, O brooklet fair, My wandering footsteps stray; The morning flowers bloom sweetly there, But soon, ah! soon they pass away. Yet still thy song in cadence heard Reminds me of life's early years When oft I wandered by thy side, Nor dreamed that life was full of tears. There's not a sound save thine tonight, Nature's sounds have hushed with day; And moonbeams fall in trembling light Where thy waters softly play. Tonight they murmur as of old Thro' forest, range and plain. And call from out the silent past A sigh for childhood's hours again. I list the sound that murmurs soft 'Neath the willows drooping shade. For there in silence, flowing on, Thv sweetest sounds are made. 'Twas thus in years agone I watched thy laughing waters play, And saw upon their rippling waves The evening sunbeams fade away. But years have passed in silence by, ' And time goes fleeting on ; The heart at most can only sigh For happy days forever gone. How. like the stream of Life thy waters flow, To mingle in the deep blue sea, Far down life's tide we're ebbing fast To that endless sea. Eternity. 334 GEMS O F P O E SY A KEEPSAKE OF MY SWEETHEAR'J' MRS. MARY HOLDING. WAS years ago I stole it From her golden curls away — This bow of palest blue ribbon — Faded and tear stained today. Most fondly have I prized it For the sake of a girl's fair face. How the memory still haunts me Of its tender,' bewitching grace. In the woodland we were strolling, Nature shared in our delight. In her hair she wore this ribbon And her gown was something white. O'er rippling waters we clasped hands And vowed to wed in church next May ; Her lips met mine to seal the pledge Of our betrothal there that day. Oh, daint}- bow of ribbon ! How you bring her back to me. How you fill my heart with longing For that which can never be. Ah, could I but place you again 'Midst those locks of bright wavy gold ! Could I but taste life's sweets once more, Know the grace of those days of old. CHORUS. 'Tis only a bow of ribbon, But in its sacred folds Lies hidden the sweetest memory That life for me now holds. 'Tis the only keepsake left me Of my sweetheart of long ago. The wealth of the world could not purchase This faded ribbon bow. GEMS OF POESY 335 MY WIFE AND ME. I REV. J. E. MENANCON. have a wife whom I love much, I'm sure she loves me too ; I could not find another such, To be so kind and true. T love her more since she is mine. Now I begin to see. My heart will thrill, sir, ev'ry time When she looks up to me. CJioms. No sir, no sir! we would not be Single again, my wife and me. No sir, no sir! we would not be Single again, my wife and me. Good times we have in married life. Single I would not be Ofttimes I sit beside my wife And she sits down by me. Her smile is sweet, her heart is kind. They both have gained my soul ; Sweet as my wife no one can find, I'm sure I've reached the goal Life with my wife is a delight, Single I would not be Now 1 can work by day or night, 'Tis no struggle to me. Fatigue and toil my arms defy. No time I ever spend. When side by side, my wife and I,'' I'm sir, a complete man. >?6 GEMS OF POESY WILL YOU THEN REMEMBER ME? w EDWARD DUGGINS. HEN other days of sunshine Smile on you as today, And your joys and pleasures brighter grow, When the love that now is mine Seems to pine away, As you come to other lovers know. When they fondly tell you true, In words so sweet and kind. The love they have for you so full and free. Then, dear, I meekly ask you To bear this quest in mind : O will you, please, then remember me? Chorus : O, will you then remember me Just as I used to be. As down the little river we would row ; When I vowed to^ you, my love, 'Neath the starry sky above, While the moon it shone upon us soft and low? When all lonely and forsaken And the heart is sorely sad. And the burden seems more than life can bear, When it seems that you've partaken Of all the sorrows to be had In this old cold world of ours anywhere, When the past, dear, you review. Till your eyes in tears are blind, And a true friend you're longing to see. Then, love, again I ask you To bear my quest in mind : O, will you. please, then remember me? GEMS Ot POESY 337 MY LITTLE DROP OF DEW. ANNA F. SWAN. I SAT one night by the bright fire grate, And I heard a step through the garden gate ; Yeddo lay on the hearth near by. And I know he heard it, as he roUed his eye. I heard it distinctly cross the lawn, And Yeddo stretched and yawned ; Not a soul in the house ; not a friend that was near, This thought to my heart didn't lend much cheer. A gentle tap on the window pane, My hand on Yeddo kept back a refrain. Then a little, sigh, and I heard no more. And Yeddo' slipped from my hand and rushed to the door. Fear had left me and I crossed to see, Who my evening visitor might be. '^ I peered longingly intO' the night. And the moon was casting o'er the earth a mellow light. .•\nd there by my porch la\' the loveliest form Methinks of a child, that ever was born ; And Yeddo was caressing it, as there it lay That little inanimate piece of clay. 1 brought it in — and the long night through Yeddo and I found enough to do, I coaxed the soul just to shine through Those beautiful orbs, I was sure were blue. And just as night was bidding once more to earth farewell. And day was longing to break the spell ; Two' soft little arms stole around my neck, Two little lips whispered "I'm coming, mamma." and then she slept. So I own a little mound in the graveyard near by, And I watch over it with a tender eye ; And I call her my little drop of dew. For it seems as if Heaven opened, and she slipped througli. ^SS GEMS OF POESY COLUMBIA'S MESSAGE N C. E. SELWYN. OW Herr Blumenthall sings of a message Which he placed on the breast of a cloud, But I sing- of a different message And I sing in a tone more loud. This message was sent into Cuba, It spoke not of race but of war ; It was borne by a son of Columbia As soldier (I've heard not) perhaps raw But he carried this message to Cuba, And his name stands in letters of gold, An example of manly endurance America is proud to behold. He recked not of treachery or fever, Nor yet if his lifeblood should flow Once the message w-as put in his keeping To Don Garcia that message must go. So it's Yankee boys, cheer! cheer for Rowan ! Who helped us the Spaniard to fight, To put down oppression in Cuba, That we might defend their right So it's Yankee boj's cheer for McKinley, The president we loved, who died, And again for his messenger Rowan, — We will think of both patriots with pride. So it's Yankee boys cheer ! again ! again ! Harvard College! West Point! and old Yale ! Sophomores, freshmen, professors as well Let your loud rah ! rah ! never fail ! So it's Yankee boys cheer ! again ! again ! Shout loudly with all your powers, Now raise up three times your loud rah ! rah ! rah ! Brave boys, of our Union the flowers. GEMS OF POESY 3^9 OUR NORTHERN HOME. A. ELIZABETH GREEN. THE summer is ended, the autumn winds sighing, The frost king comes tapping once more at our door ; The birds of our forests instinctively flying To a home in the southland, the same as of yore. With the tints of the rainbow our mountains are glowing. In the depths of our streams where the clear water's flowing Are mirrored the beauties of nature's vast store. We love the bright autumn so radiant in glory, The charms of our own native land are untold ; A theme for the poet and lauded in story. All clad in the garments of purple and gold. Adown from the trees soon the leaves will go drifting. Afar o'er the earth where the breezes are shifting, In a frolicsome mood the same as of old. We hail with delight the first snowflakes appearing, And dream of the bliss that awaits us once more. For the white crested mantle of winter is nearing And a round of enjoyment and pleasure in store. Where glad voices are mingling And sleighbells are jingling As swiftly they glide past our cottage home door. Earth's slumbers are o'er, the morning is breaking. The robin is trilling his notes in the tree, All nature once more to new life awaking, Earth's fetters are broke and the northland is free. A song of deliverance from hearts that were yearning, Floats out on the breeze ; and the bluebirds returning Join in the springtime melody. S40 GEMS OF POESY ADIEU. MRS. F. A. PERKINS. TO the beautiful west where the sunset is golden, To the beautiful West where the skies are so blue, To the one that called me the queen of the prairie, I'd like to bid a long last adieu. I have sat on the bank of those beautiful coulees, I have watched the small brook as it leaped on its way; I have heard the little birds when they sang in the morning As they welcomed the dawn of another bright day, I have gathered the flowers so sweet and so fragrant. Their leaves still kissed by the dew of the morn ; I have seen friends depart who took all the roses. Leaving nothing behind but a bush full of thorns. I have stood by the bed while death claimed my treasure. And, VN'rapped in the winding sheet, laid it away. I have turned from the new mound, my heart broken and bleeding, And smiled on my friends whom T met the next day. They say my life's sunshine. They know not the sorrow. As the flower leaf closeth and hideth the heart So I smile on in sorrow just the same as in gladness; They know not the anguish, the pain or the smart. And there is an adage I oft hear repeated, A broken heart often a smile will conceal. Then why to the world hold up our sorrow. For, having no heart, no pity they feel. Adieu to the vast and rolling prairie, Where the pheasant and gopher and coyote abound ; Adieu to the lake and swift running river, And all those little flowers abloom on the ground. Yes, in memory again I'll return to^ the coulee And gather the lilies and bluebells once more ; But I never shall pick them again in reality. Or gather the pebbles that l:e on the shore. GEMS OP POESY 341 A SUNDAY REVERIE. ALLIE M. FAY. HE God I worship is everywhere, Like the bright sunlight, the sweet fresh air ; Not held aloft for Sundays alone, Nor seated afar on a stately throne. To nie He seems near in the breezes that pass, Each flower that grows, each blade of grass There speaks of Him, in each wild bird's song. And the murmuring brook as it ripples along. The ever twinkling stars on high. Or the fleecy clouds of a tranquil sky, The flash of lightning, the thunder's roar. And the mighty ocean as waves lash the shore. Do we heed the beauty that's around us spread, The blessings that o'er each life are- shed? To us is given this world's rich store, Tho' we daily use there is ever more. And "thoughts are things," so a speaker told. And if noble ones are better than gold; For "As a man thinketh so he is," — There's a promise that Heaven and earth may be his. 342 GEMS OF POESY FATE'S PRISONER. I IDA BLANCHE WALL. LIVE but to labor for others, In the background of byways; Through harrowing and petty trials And the dull care laden days. Severed from all my kindred, From my many friends apart, 1 am striving to fill life's mission, Though oft with a fainting heart. A heart that is filled with yearning For a higher, nobler life, Well.spent amid scenes of contentment, Far from this turmoil and strife. In God's happy world I'm an exile. Alien to all I hold dear ; Ihit music that cheers my weary heart Is sweet voice of conscience clear. 'GEMS OF POESY 343 TELEPATHY. O. L. HAKVEY. "D EEP unto deep — star unto star " — Soul unto soul vibrates light ; Thus came thy thoughts to me from afar In the weird stillness of the silent night. I never can forget you, I will never cease to love you ; I will die with your name on my lips, Your image in my heart Alas ! since then long years have flown, Weary years of unremembered sorrow ; But never yet on ocean, land or sea. In crowded hall or sacred solitude, In joy or love, in hope or misery. Has thy form departed, — but has stood Sentinel within my heart and kept Sacred those tears that it so often wept. Spirit of my dreams I Thou art indeed human. Yet fancy creates thee a form of its own ; All I have known or imagined of woman In tenfold intensity around thee is thrown. Joy be unto thee, thou gentle being ! Angelic graces dwell within thy breast ; None whom thy love and kindness seeing E're could fail thereby to be blest Constantly through long years of deep unrest Lonely I wandered o'er wild romatic fields, A being by some strange phantasy possesse 1, Rang in my heart thy voice's gentle peals, Kindling hope anew, which to despair so often yici.ls. 344 GEMS OF FOE S ¥ HAVE COURAGE TO MOVE ON. FLOYD J. PRICE. A GOAL is planted and all can reach, You may ask others to aid and to teach, But the better way for every one Is to have the courage to move on, and on ! This goal is reached by earnest thought. By other means it is as naught. You're compelled to be in a strong bond To' have the courage to move on, and on ! Yea, there may be a veil o'er your eyes. So that you're not able to realize That it takes much patience to bear the scorn And then have the courage to move right on ! Sometimes loved ones won't seem to you As charming and loving as they used to, But you take courage and heed the song, The world is ,busy, I'll move along ! Although many dear ones you cannot see, Nor with the ones you desire to be. Then }ou take courage and do not stop, But move on and on to the very top ! • At the top your presence may not seem so much, The world can see you've accomplished such, And will place on you a crown of gold With the approbation, "Move on! You've reached your goal!" When you reach life's goal you've just begun, Your life's battle is yet to be won. Have hands, mind and heart aright. Then move boldly on to win the fight ! Each golden moment if you're employed In your future life will be enjoyed. At present be under a sacred bond So in after life vou'll move on, and on ! GEMS OF POESY 345 THE RAINBOW OF PEACE. LORENA M. JAMES. IFE is a series of blessings, ' Sent down from Heaven above; Christ in his boundless mercy Sends all those blessings in love. And what asks He in return For all the love that He gives? "Turn unto Me, O my children, Look to Me. love Me and live." Day after day his kindness Is shown in a thousand ways. Have you no time to thank Him? Not a moment to utter His praise ? Some may be faithful workers, Striving to pay what is due. But the most you can offer is tiiiy Compared with what's given to you. At the wondrous falls of Niagara, O'er the rocks so high and steep, The water in torrents forever Falls into the mighty deep. And only a mist rises upward, Upward from whence it did flow, Yet 'round about it encircles That emblem of peace, the rainbow. So when your cup in fullness O'erflows with boundless love, Forget not to waft the mist upward, Upward to God above. And the rainbow of peace will encircle And over will be your strife, For Christ gives unto His children Peace and everlasting life. U6 GEMS O F P O E SY I GO AHEAD. GRACE GOLD. F THE crowd don't move to suit you, Just step out and trot ahead. Do not wait to fuss or grumble, Plenty of room just on ahead. Then when plans don't work to suit you, Don't sit down and smite your head. Try again some way that's better, — Just be brave and push ahead. Go ahead, yes, go ahead. Just step out and get ahead. Only start right, then keep going ; Big the world, and wide the land. There is music in all places. Though you never see the band. Lift your eyes brim full of laughter, Face the world with lots of sand. You will win with patient labor. You'll have cash at your command. - Go ahead, then, go ahead. Just step out and go ahead. If the world seems cold and thankless Never mind, just press ahead; Bright the sun is ever shining. Though the clouds may look like lead. When your life-work all is ended. May it then of you be said ; (Though the crowed tried hard to hinder, You stepped out and ran ahead. Go ahead, then, go' ahead. Just step out and run ahead. G E M S O F P O E SY 341 KNEELING WITH WILLIE. I RAYMOND REEVES. N THE solemn, silent chamber, Where the broken-hearted dwell, Where the disappointed lovers Say a many "Fare-you-well !" I am kneeling at the altar Where the broken-hearted kneel, And I suffer all the anguish That a broken heart can feel. And friend Will is kneeling, kneeling At the alt'ir here with me; But there's somethiuT: 'bout Sir Willie Which savors some of glee. I can quickly tell my story. Such a one you never heard — But to the "flya-awayees" It's nothing like absurd. I took her to the supper. Though young Willie had the date ; She broke it unceremonious And I giggled at his fate. But the giggle and the snigger Turned and kind o' made me foam When the playful little maiden Let Sir Berry take her home. I am kneeling, I am kneeling Where the disappointed dwell. I am kneeling and I whisper : "Fare vou well ! Oh, fare vou well !" 348 GEMS OF POESY WHEN THE SUN SHINES. MARY STARCK. RAY and cheerless the parlor, And the mistress, with folded hands, In silence looks back to the days Of youth, with its golden sands ; The maid in the kitchen is dull and slow, For work in monotony seems to grow. The flower in window or garden To the eye no color flings ; The bird in the cage is beating Against the bar his wings. Lonely and long seems the forward track, And the soul feels some mysterious lack. ■ A sudden impulse tells us To lift our eyes from the ground, And they meet a radiance streaming On all the world around; We rise to cast off the past and its shrouds, For the winds have scattered the heavy clouds. Rousing us by its splendor. The sun upon us shines. And the soul, entranced by its beauty. No longer in silence repines ; The bird in the cage ceases beating its wings Against the imprisoning bars, and sings. The flower is bright and fragrant. The maid works swiftly, with cheer; And the mistress wakes from her dreaming. To find that gladness is here; For Hfe seems cast in pleasant lines, When the sun, after clouds, upon us shines. GEMS OF POESY 349 LIFE'S EMBROIDERY WORK. o MYRTLE CATHERINE TALLMAN. UR future lies before us ^ Like a piece of linen white ; We cannot trace our path In the dim uncertain light. Yet the wa}- is stamped out By our loving Father's hand; — Invisible to us But not to the angel band. Like a needle we go forth, Stitch by stitch we work our way Into the unknown future, Nearer to Heaven each day. When the slender cord is severed And we soar to lands on high, Can we look back o'er the past With a self satisfied eye? Will a backward glance reveal In the world of toil and strife. The results of a pure soul. The prints of a noble life? We must use the thread of love To work our important place, If we desire to make Patterns of beauty and grace. Life's embroidery work will shine Brightly in our setting sun, And we shall be remembered By whatever we have done. 350 GEMS O F P O E SY I THE FRIENDS OF LONG AGO. FRANCES J. F.GERTON. T WAS one day in musing sad, Over a slight that I had had, I heard a voice so sweet and low In gentle rain and falling snow. That bade me dream of long ago. The dream I had it was so clear I breathed the breath of Mayflower near, While nesting bird sang love note clear. Then away where my heart loved best, With the sun on the storm cloud's breast, While sea bird skimmed the ocean crest; For things that charmed my ear and eye Were tempest wild and seabird's cry. In the gale as the waves rose high To a sheltering rock I'd hie And watch the raging storm draw nigh. In dream I wandered from the shore And stood once more by the schoolhouse door. I asked of one that lingered near Where are the friends to memory dear. Time answered me, with voice so low, "They've passed to where no tear drops flow." Then L awoke with aching heart And once again the tear drops start. And as I muse the mystery o'er I long again for friends of yore. Then back to nature's loving breast. For in her arms I'll sweetly rest. And as a voice speaks sweet and low May I grow like the falling snow, And pass to meet the ones I know, — The dear old friends of long ago. GEMS OF POESY 351 A VOICE FROM A COAL MINE. MRS. HANNAH CHRISTIAN. rO satisfy their greed for gold Men tunnel 'neath the ground, Seeking the precious "d:amonds black" Which like the sands abound. 'Twas there I found the "pearl of price" Which gold can never buy ; And robbers cannot take from me, — ■ 'Tis mine whate'er betide. I went to work down in the mine. Two miles from the light of day, And carried there a load of guilt From which I could not flee. The little lamp upon my head Gave but a flickering ray, As there amid the dank and gloom I knelt me down to pray. To Jesus then my burdened soul Sent up a longing cry ; He heard me even from the pit And took my sins away. Now glory to His name I sing Who hung upon the cross ; My heart is full of light and joy, The world I count all dross. Although my body is begrimed With coal dust and with smoke, Sweet peace I find untO' my soul While serving" 'neath His yoke. By daily toil for daily bread My calling I fulfill. And naught that man can do to me Can rob me of His smile. 352 GEMS OF POESY O NIAGARA. MRS. HATTIE REEDER LOVELACE. N the rock bound shore of Niagara I stand in wondering awe, And note the crystal waters in their joyous glee As close to the brink they draw ; Here the rainbow fair in the tinted air, Yonder the mist in its silvery sheen, Ar^d again they glide like a blushing bride Arrayed in pearls and emerald green. Now they spring and see them cling To the bushes on its side ; There the white foam like a frost rimmed dome, Or a jewel bedecked bride. They peek in and out and roundabout And away they rush and roar; A flower they toss and some green moss, Torn from Niagara's shore. And yonder I see an old spruce tree, Torn from its native home ; The waters say, "Come, glide away And o'er the world we will roam," But the old tree clings so calmly To the rocks close by its side ; What a story it could tell if it could talk well Of old Niagara in her pride. When the red man trod the dark green sod That fringes Niagara's shores. Where the calm eyed deer did oft appear And drink to his fill or more, That never ending onward flow. As o'er the brink they rush and glide, Speaks of Nature in her wondrous power, Of Niagara in her pride. GEMS OF POESY 353 THE CHURCH OF GOD. ANION STOEHK. HE is the queen of nations, ' The effulgent morning- star ; She reveals God's revelations Of love and truth evermore. Her garments brighter than the sun She unfolds her robes of peace ; The mother of civilization, For all sorrows a surcease. My love will lead me onward, I'll follow her teachings clear ; I know I shall enter the kingdom By obeying your precepts here. H54 GEMS OF POESY RECOLLECTIONS. CHARLES H. MELVILLE. THE electrical recollection reflects bygone days, As the pictorial youth in splendor's dazzling array. Sir knight o'er grandeur, e'en to ponder childhood days. As his horoscope dreams of picturesque boyish scenes, tho' X-rays. Our schoolboy days endeavor to devour one short hour galore, As flowers open to sunshine, so youth's tales, e'en old and new. The themes essay man's future estate ; and who knows ? As the budding flower shows its toilet, seeking through. Philosophy reviews memory's part, tho' circuit to art tinders a spark Eh ! lilies meet a body, roses kiss a body — O you know ! Insulator 'to youth's heart, e'en a kissing meteor, then hark! Hence parties to lark, and welcome \^eal, or say whoa ! Alas! by recalling the visions and dreams of youthful petals — A laughing debt, e'en youth's day, to man's example, say : The immortal soul, incorporated in body soil, must settle. And depart this sphere, pedestal — asunder of clay. Son of man ! ere a radiant ray and beacon light. Lightning flashes ne'er vanity, then youth's actions say ! And bespeaks the future man, as the lilies aspire height. Fond recollection elects to collect, e'en Divinitv way. GEMS Of POESY 355 RETROSPECTION. c MRS. NELLY TODA. OULD we recall the vanished years, Bring back to life the days long dead, Live o'er again youth's hopes and fears, Life's springtime paths but once more tread, Could we call back dear friends of old, Friends loved so well in days of yore, — Some passed beyond the Gates of Gold, Some lost in life forevermore — Could we upon life's threshold stand And see the years before us lie, And hold our lives within our hand, Would aught be changed for you or I ? Could we have known as nozv we know. Could we have seen as notv we see. Could we bid time's tide backward flow, — Ah, well ! how different all might be. Could years of grief be blotted ovit. Misunderstandings all made plain. Removed for aye each fear and doubt. Then peace and hope might come again. The years roll onward to the end, Our lives are gone beyond recall, 'Tis useless to repine, my friend. The hand of Fate will lead us all. 356 GEMS OF POESY THE BATTLE OF MANILA. SCOTT WOODWARD. 'TRANGELY hushed was the spell ; ' In the darkness no one had seen The entrance of Dewey's marine. Still, like a phantom of hell, — Not a word, not even a breath To give them warning of death Then ding-dong, ding-dong, dell, Men stripped to the waist for the fray- Out in the harbor that day. Then a shout which rose and fell ; "Boys, remember the Maine !" Then burst from each cannon a flame. Strangely the old bell sounded, With cries of dying and wounded. In the bursting of shot and shell. Then across the waters there came. Mixed with a deluge of flame, Ding-dong, ding-dong, dell. Ding-dong, ding-dong, dell High up in the old church tower, Floated away in echoes the hour That Montejo staggered and fell. Men reeled from their guns in despair. Groans and cries rent the air. ' In the glare of that bright summer day Spain looked with rage and dismay, Her sons had fought and fell. Fell from the decks in the flood. Dyeing the sea with their blood. Ding-dong, ding-dong, dell. GEMS OF POESY 35 TRUE LOVE'S RECOLLECTION. I DANIEL K. JOHNSON. N a western state is a village town — Its recollections make me sigh — It was there I lived long years ago, There I heard a sad goodbye ; My sweetheart was far off to go, My heart's longing was she would stay When I kissed her last — that has long since passed But my memory is hers day by day. Many weary years have since gone by, But like a dream it comes and departs. The time she vowed she would be true, Ours were two loving hearts. In my sweet dreams a vision of her I see, With her once more I plead in vain. As tears stain the floor I kiss her once more, I awaken ! Alas ! she's gone again. 358 GEMS OF POESY OUR SONG. W JEFFIE C. LLOYD. HENE'ER our heart's in tune to sing Let kindness be our song- ; If we can't say some good word, dear, Let's not sing our little song. Speak words of praise whene'er you can. For they will do no harm 'Tis words of love and kindness, dear, That lend to life its charm. Let's take a ray of sunshine To every one we can; Speak words of praise to little folks. To woman \and to man. For never yet was child so young But soon 'twould love words of praise ; Man never yet has been so old But 'twould cheer his feeble days. Oh ! let us leave the words unsaid That tend to wound a heart; Let's speak all loved words that we can Before 'tis time to part. Let's be sunlight in hours of darkness, Never act as to cause some one pain ; Let's wound not a heart by a thoughtless word If eternity we would gain. GEMS O t POESY 359 C WHERE SANTA mV) X( ) T GO. jOSKPHINE LLEWELLYX. HKISTMAS bells were loudly ringing ^\nd their chimes were very sweet ; Santa treasures had been bringing", Many children had a treat ; But in one poor lonely dwelling- One young heart was full of woe; There were empty stockings hanging Where Santa did not go. In a corner, helpless lying. Was a father sick in bed, And his home was very cheerless, Eor his wife had long been dead. His boy shouted "Happy Christmas!" Then his tears began to flow When he saw the empty stockings Where Santa did not go. Then the father told the stor) , Peace on earth to men gootl will, Sayin$>;. "You are not forgotten, For you have the Savior still." As the boy stood there and listened Tears could then no longer flow. The Christ Child had left a blessing Where Santa did not go. 'Tis thus in our vale of sorrow We find joy and comfort still, \\'hen we think about the Savior, — Of His peace and His good will. Though by all the world forgotten, 'Tis a blessed thing to know The Christ Child can leave a blessing \\'here .Santa does not go. ^6o GEMS OF FOE S Y THE SEASONS. IIEUENE CLIKTUN. PRING is the maiden of the year, So fair, so meek \ In tender green she doth appear, vSo shy, so sweet. Her dress she trims with fairest flowers, Sweet violets and tulips gay, Crocuses and gilliflowers, And purple iris, day by day. The summer comes in bride's array, With roses sweet. And flowery garlands bright and gay Lie at her feet ; The gardens vie with park and field, The skies are cloudless, blue and bright ; The hedge and forest sweetness yield And spicy odors, day and nig-ht Autumn's a matron, pure and good, So tired, so true. Crowned with the joys of motherhood. Which is love's due^ She's clothed herself in richest gowns. Of yellow, wine and russet red, All splashed and blotched with green and brown And brightest garlands on her head. Winter is age, whose locks are snow. So white, so white. Whose face is happiness aglow. So light and bright ; Once more she's robed in purest white. So tired, she's laid her down to rest, And angels called her in the night ; We loved her well, death loved her best. GEMS O F P O E S y 361 IN THE OLD CATHEDRAL'S SHADE. A MKMUKV ni IHK ANCIENT CITY OF LINCOLN. ROllERT A. HAKKER. ^ROM the shadows and the .silence Of the never ending i^ig'ht. Through the clouds of time and distance, Through the tears that veil my sight, Down the curious aisles of memor)^ Where a life-time's statues stand, Comes a loving, living likeness, Takes me gently by the hand. Once again the old-time brightness Shineth through the clouds and rain, And the trusting love of childhood Surges through my soul again. Then a voice long silent, speaketh ; Through my heart its cadence thrills. Ah ! the love that in it lingers All my mind and being fills. So we, through the ancient city, Hand in hand together go ; Hear the sounds of choral music In the distance sweet and low. Love's own sunshine backward streaming. Pictures that can never fade, Mother's prayers and childhood's dreaming In the old cathedral's shade. Dearest ! wath thy soft caressing. Clouds have vanished, cares have fled. Come again with love and blessing. Speak! I shall be comforted ! 362 GEMS OF POESY MY BLUE GRASS OL'EEN. N JEVVETT CLARKE. EAR an old town in Kentucky Dwells a little country maid, My heart is long"ing" for her every day. She's as fair as any rose And I'm sure my sweetheart knows That my love can never, never fade away. She's the one girl I adore, Yes, I love her more and more, When I tell her this is what I always say: — You are my Blue Grass Queen, I love you so, How much I care for you no one can know. List while I sing to }Ou my fairy dream, Y'ou are the girl I love, my Blue (jrass Queen. When this daughter of Kentucky Is my own, my very, own, When the apple blossoms bloom in early spring, When tb.e violets turn their faces To the sun with rarest graces, When the hills and valleys first with songsters ring, Then together we will go To our own wee bungalow. And fore^'er to mv sweetheart I w'ill singf:-^ GEMS OF POESY ' 3^9 'M TIME'S BACKWARD FLIGHT. MRS. KATE SCAIFE. ID the revelling- throng of social guests, 'Mid flowers and music, wealth and art, The silver haired host, of noble mien, . With smiles was hiding a weary heart. Fair fortune had favored, the selfmade man W^as known as "money king" far and wide, But something was wrong with the banquet tonight, Which he could not dispel had he tried. CHORUS :— Seed corn in the shuck and peppers red Were swung from the rafters over the bed. And nests of wasps their vigils kept Where the boy millionaire lay down and slept. "I woidd like to go back," he softly said, And shaded his eyes from the light, "I would like to go back," he murmurs again, "And sleep in the old home tonight. I would like to climb up the ladder rungs, That reached to the loft overhead, And with ears attent o'er the cracks in the floor, Hear all that the company said. 'T would like to go back and meet the bo)^s. And talk over the bright long ago, — Of hours we've spent in the old red school house. Then stroll down to the spring below. And oh ! for the odor of new mown hay, The tinkling of sheep bells, always near,- — How welcome the rest to a world weary heart. If wishing could make it appear." 364 ■ GEMS O F P O E SY LOOK IN MY EYES, COLLEEN, DEAR ! JULIA MARIE KENNETT. THOUGH many may wish for a fountain of youth, And dream could they stand on its brink That the furrows of time would all disappear, With the magical water they'd drink, — You have but to look in my eyes, Colleen, dear ! And 'tis your own face you will see, As fresh and as fair, as charming as when Years ago it first beamed on me. Do you mind the old song you and I used to sing ? "'Tis the heart, love, looks out of the eyes !" Sure my heart forever the same tale will tell. For tis your own self that I prize ; And though the years run by the dozens away, And though time, like a rogue of an elf, vShould play tricks with your face, you're the same, dear, to me Can he make you one bit less yourself ' Let who will, then, sigh for a fountain of youth ; 'Tis you, darling, need not sigh in vain. While my heart beats at all it will shine through my eyes And give back your young beauty again. GEMS OF POESY 365 TO MY DAUGHTER. I JULIETTE JONES. am sad and lonely, darling, As I sit and think of you And the miles that lie between us. And the time that must ensue Ere I gaze upon your features, Ere I catch your sunny smile, I must labor many an hour, — Yea, must travel many a mile. Over sea and plain and mountain I must take my devious way To recieve your loving greeting And to hear you gladly say, "I am well and happy, mama, I have missed you while away, But the precepts you have taught me I have striven to obey. Nothing sad can blight our pathway If the Bible is our guide. And we follow in the footsteps Of the Christ, the crucified. 366 GEMS O F P O E S \ DOST THOU REMEMBER? WM. A. HIRST. o KITTY, my loved and lost one, Where'er thou may'st be, Weary years may pass oii rolling, Still I'm true to thee. Do e'er you think of times gone by When you loved but me, And happy days were flying fast — I made vows to thee? Dost thou remember the old stile, Where we used to meet; And I deep-cut the words, " 'Twas here, By the bankside steep? And the old castle wall in Wales — Our names entwined, I carved into the hardened stone — Heart-shape imprinted ? But you those days have long forgotten When our love divine Did brighten all the world to us — And thy love was mine. But that is past and all the world Is very sad to me ; I'm only waiting for the time When with God we'll be. GEMS OF POESY jdj LEAVING HOME. w A. J. KYRK. HEN you say goodbye to your father. And press his toilworn hand, Before you pass from the old homestead. To be numbered with the working band. A feehng of sadness conies o'er you, Mild, with a sharp pang of pain, P""or you love that dear old father And may never see him again. But take Christ as your pattern, And the years will be counted well spent. If you come back to that homestead As innocent and pure as you went. And when you turn to your moth.er And kiss her wrinkled cheek, Your heart seems overflowing And yet you cannot speak. Your thoughts go flying backwards To the time when her hair was brown, And you'd rather stay with your mother Than go to the busy town. And when the farewells are over And you leave those hearts so true. You feel very lonely and friendless, — 'Tis all so strange and new. For you are a strangei among strangers. Is it strange that no one cares Except the kind father and mother Who remember you each day in their prayers? 368 GEMS OF FOES 1 LONELY NED MRS. M. A. MASON. I N a little lonely cabin Sat a man with bowed down head ; You could tell his heart was broken, For his darling wife was dead. With the dawn of that sad morning Her gentle spirit fled, And left alone her husband And their little baby Ned. Just then the door was opened. In came the boy and climbed to papa's knee, And said, "Dear papa, tell me. Why don't mama speak to me ? So many times I've asked Her To give me one sweet kiss. But she lies so very quiet And so cold and still she is. " "Won't you take some of the covers Off my own wee little bed, Cover up my own dear mama. Put them clear up on her head. Maybe then she'll get some warmer, Maybe then she'll speak to me ; Or tell me now, dear papa, Won't she never speak again? " The poor man's heart was breaking. While to his breast he pressed The poor little orphan baby And said, "Now you must rest. " For he could not bear to tell him That he had no mama now. That he and lonely papa Must get along some how. " GEMS O t POESY 369 MY GUARDIAN ANGEL. M SCOTT WOODWARD. Y mind oft pictures while the setting sun Sinks low behind the western pine, A face, though young — And yet a halo of Heavenly grace that earth ne'er won. Mere child in form or years, and yet I've seen Her eyes with tears oft filled for others' wrongs, Those eyes of love that took Their cast from heaven's vault, Look down into your very soul when once are stirred And point you heavenward with holy thought. Evil skulked away before her gaze, with eyes downcast, Or trembled like a forest that is swept by winter's blast. Oft would she climb upon my knee — My neck entwine and tell me of the thought That in her mind would creep ; And ere she had done Her head upon my breast Would drop in holy sleep. My Guardian Angel, And ever present with me in my life, To shield me from temptation In this world of strife ; I see her eyes in every flower that blows, Her very lips are mirrored in the morning rose ; Her finger touch comes with the evening air, And smooths the wrinkles from my brow ; And care is ofttimes lulled away By the bright vision of a better day. Ever present vision. Angel of the blessed. Bring to me peace and holy rest ; Help me to face temptation like a man, When others fall may I but stand. 370 GEMS Oh POESY A LOX'E SONG. H WJXJ'IRLD SCOTT GAINES. IE to 111) western home, love, Away from your mountains so blue, To the land 'neath the setting- sun, So deal- to me and true. Blest be the land that gave me birth. Old Hudson's eastern shore, Where I've sat me down with you, loxe. To list to the cataract's roar. I love her rocks so gray and old. And her forests of fadeless pine, And that stream in the vale sO' green Where you vowed that you would be mine. Then come to my western home, love. Since your heart and hand are mine. And a wreath of prairie flow'rs, love. In vour auburn hair I will twine. GEMS OF POESY 31^ EASTER MUSINGS. o E. JOSEPHINE SMITH. Easter, bright and joyous I We thy welcome gladly ring, As we listen for the coming birds, Sweet heralds of the spring The music of thy merry bells Brings memories of joy and pain And mingled with my greeting Is always a sad refrain. Hush! be silent while I listen To the voices of the past, And with those voices blended All my fondest hopes are cast. As I close my eyes in musing Their forms are flitting past. I'raise my hand to stay them. But a vision cannot last. And yet I can hear them singing And laughing in winsome glee. Oh, at Easter, happy Easter, May they always sing to me. I think of the tender sapling And of the sturdy oaken tree. I think of the fragrant violet. The spotless lily's purity. Then chide not the bells for ringing. Their sound I love to hear ; While I smother a sigh that is rising And check the forbidden tear. There's a shrine in every bosom. Secret, hidden from our view, And while at that shrine I linger I'll remember yoii have one too. 312 G E M S O F POESY BE YOURSELF. KLIZABETH S. W. BUCHANAN. D ISDAIN to follow those who only after glory run, Seeking other gods who know them not ; Be kind to all, regardless of faults or virtues. Your road may lead you over mountains high, Or through valleys low, but onward press And ne'er look back o'er fields so vast, nor Sigh to drink from sparkling fountains long since Past. Other fountains will burst forth from deeply Buried rocks of which you have never dreamed. Should your parentage be humble, poor, perhaps despised By those whose ambitions for vain glory rush them To destruction's brink; but who may dare deny That upon this alone may swing the future Of your manhood strong, or womanly virtue true. And if fortune's fickle voice should call you to Climb the long rough mountain side, with Bleeding feet and hands oft torn with struggling Hard and long; or if upon the desert drear Your famishing soul would call for drink And find it not, be not cast down nor Weakened in your faith of justice and brotherly Love toward all you meet on life's highway steep. No matter what a friend or foe may say, Your life, your work, is yours alone ; none Other can your niche supply ; none other can your Duty do. Your love must by you alone be given If you would find that peace called heaven, With which equity, triith and harmony reign, Unmarred by man-made laws for gain, Where infinite love its truths does teach And the law of justice is mercy's seat. GEMS Of POESY 313 T HOLIDAYS. MARY KELS AUTENRIETH. HESE are times that find me weeping, Sad thoughts will come o'er me creeping Of loved ones who have gone before To the unknown, beautiful shore. In our mind we see them beckoning, Every hour we are reckoning. With every day already past We are nearing to our last. 314 GEMS OF POESY THE FALL OF BABYLON. WALTER A. HESSE. o H Babylon, thy ruins bespeak of times In ages past when light and glory shown Upon a city reared by master minds, ■ — In strength and majesty it stood alone. Truly a monument of Caldaic realms. The poets sang adoring symphonies ; Temples and palaces arrayed themselves, In the clear waters of the'Eiiphrates. Such splendor could not to the end endure, As time in subsequent dynasties has shown ; Wise prophets warned, but kings they heeded not, The downfall came and none could then atone. The Medes and Persians came in serried ranks. And darkly gathering, the war-clouds hung ; L'ntil o'er fiercest strife on Euphrates' banks, The darkness closed. Oh city fair, thy doom did truly come Ages have passed, today a desolated spot Bears witness to the ravages of man and time ; Among the ruins grow sweet forget- me.nots, While crumbling terraces still point to works sublime. Oh prophets of old, your words were but too true, As sadly we may gaze up;)n the silent scenes ; At night wild beasts prowl there in silent retinue. Where once proud kings reveled in earthl}' dreams. GEMS OF POESY 375 GROWTH. GERTRUDE VAUGHN. A S God unfolds the fragrant flowers. So let Him unfold these souls of ours ; They should not toil, nor should they spin, As they drink the blessed sunshine in. As the birds by God are fed, We will recieve our daily bread ; He sends this message to my spirit, Asking that I hear and heed it. Do the lilies seek to grow ? Do they God's secrets try to know ? Do they worry o'er the morrow — And bring themselves such useless sorrow ? We cannot help the sun to set, Nor the spider to spin his silken net i We cannot help the rose to bloom, We cannot change its sweet perfume. I must grow from a germ divine, Planted in this soul of mine. Watered with Christ's boundless love. And perfect faith in God above. Be not the ^vey of useless fears, Do not indulge in foolish tears ; The world is not improved by sadness, But rather by joy and hope and gladness. 37(> ' GEMS O F P O E SY NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP. "N MRS. S. VAN PELT. OW I lay me down to sleep, " Lisped the childish lips so sweet. Drowsy eyelids softly close, Into dreamland baby goes. Snowflakes falling thick and fast ; Out in the storm a poor outcast, Freezing, dying in the snow, No one to pity, no where to go. As death folds her in his cold embrace A smile steals o'er the poor sad face. And as her soul her Maker meets Murmurs, "Now I lay me down to sleep. " A sailor on the wave shipwrecked. As a billow washes him o'er the deck Whispers the prayer of his childhood sweet, "Now I lay me down to sleep. " G E M S O F P O H S y 377 'TIS CHRISTMAS. T DORSEY C. COLLIER. IS Christmas and the year is ended, And our blessings have been more than one. Then we all should give thanks to Heaven For the year that has passed and gone. From all o'er the earth's glad surface Good Santa has sweetly smiled, And selected rich presents to suit the taste Of each good and deserving child. The rich, the poor and the needy Rejoice and make merry this day, Because 'tis the birth of salvation And the death of sin's flattering way. Remember the poor in their sorrow, Make merry the hearts that are sore. For this example was firmly set By the Savior in days of yore. Live free from intoxication. Be sober in soul and mind, Because cold death may claim you as his Ere you Christ's blessings find. Oh send us a blessing, dear Savior, A Christmas gift from thy hand, A heart that is longing and waiting To answer at thy command. 31 8 GEMS OF POESY THE RHYTHM OF THE SEA. J. AUGUSTA HOLMES. ' IRED toiler ! leave ihc busy mart, Nor in the town abide ; But rest a little while apart, Out by old Ocean's side. Dislodge each anxious care and fear, Cease tihinking, simply be ; But lend the while a list'ning- ear To th' rhythm of the sea. No other voice to human souls Speaks with such potent calm ; This sound of many waters rolls Like a majestic psalm. Successively, successively, The rhythm'c tones repeat ; And gloriously, all gloriousl}'. Keeps up the measured beat. O'er all the souls an inrtuence steals, Which bids its follies hush ; And clearly to the mind reveals How vain is earth's mad rush. It sets the music of the life To a diviner key. And stills its inharmonious strife, This rhythm of the sea. Then listen to the worship-speech, As deep doth answer deep ; And far o-ff wave, and surf of beach, Antiphonal do keep. There stay till Ocean's spirit fills And casts its charm o'er thee ; Till through each even pulse-beat thrills The rhvthm of the sea. GEMS OF POESY 319 TWO PATHWAYS. PEARL PRIEST. O^^IE cunning briars grew by the pathway, ' And their branches through the grass curled, Looking so temptingly beautiful As across the path they unfurled. Their bright little flowers and little green leaves Hiding their thorns from the woHd. And so it is in life's pathway That leads through the narrow way ; Many the hearts that have strove for the right. And at last fallen in the fray. So beware of the Briars That set snares in your path. Ere a thorn pierce your heart on the way. 38o GEMS O F P O E S y DREAM, SWEET BABY, DREAM. FRED S. FAHNESTOCK. *LEEP, sweetly sleep, ' Baby with laughing eyes, Fast the time flies and soon you will rise, Walking to romp and play. CJiorns. Dream, sweet baby, dream. Dream of angels' wings that quiver Over the heavenly river Which flows by the throne of God. Sleep, softly sleep. Baby with dimpled chin ; Soon you begin to work for and win Honors in life's wide field Sleep, gently sleep, Baby with silken hair ; Now all is fair, but soon you will dare Dangers on life's grand sea. Sleep, longer sleep. Baby with ruby lips. Dream that white ships as each anchor slips Carry their wealth for thee. Sleep, sweetly sleep. Baby with angel face. Soon your life's race by help of God's grace Leadeth you up to Him. GEMS OF POESY 381 AN AUTUMN EVE. EUITH D. CORLISS. N autumn day draws to its close, And o'er the western hills the sky is all aglow ; The ruddy hues of day's bright orb decline, While gold and purple yield to sober night. Night's sable curtain, thrown o'er nature, now Invites the laborer to sweet repose And bears him to her realm of pleasant dreams. How dear to weary toilers of the day Beckons the twilight shades when eve draws nigh. The lighted lamps, the joyous prattle gay, Give him glad cheer and happy evening hours Now chimes the clock of merry time's swift flight, While drowsy eyelids droop from drowsy heads. And restful couches call to balmy sleep. The coals upon the hearth send out A cheerful warmth, tinged with its ruddy glow, While fancy sees once more the childish din, Wreathed with the shadows of the room. And on the whistling wind goes hastening by. And scurrying leaves sweep on in instant chase ; The golden hues of Indian summer's reign Yield to the wintry tints of gray and brown, Which over field and forest strew the ground. How nature doth repeat in yearly round The daily tale of man's vicissitude ; Night's errand, like long winter's sleep. But leads to mourn, the joyous opening spring. Then too, with nights and days, and seasons past, Life's bark has sailed its earthly span ; Then shall its pilet, spirit life. By Him led o'er the silent flood Cast anchor on the golden strand. 382 GEMS OF POESY MOTHER DON'T KNOW. o MARION E. PORTER. UT in the trenches at midnight we lay, Wearily waiting the break of day, While brave old Joe and bright young -Ben Were striving to cheer the drooping men, When out rang the voice of brave old Joe, Saying, ''Boys, I am glad my mother don't know That we're lying out here on the damp, cold ground. Waiting for foes who are lurking 'round ; I'm glad, boys, my mother don't know." The bright cross hung in the southern sky, The moon looked down with imdimmed eye On land and sea and rockbound shore, And the graves of our comrades who' fight no more. "Say, boys," said Ben, "when the troubles come Ain't it strange how you think of mother and home? While we're lying out here with face to the foe, Ain't you glad our dear mothers don't know? Like Joe, boys, I'm glad she don't know." The moon went down from the spangled sky. The winds of night went rushing by ; We listened still to the ocean's roar, And the boom of the surf on the rockbound shore ; And four still forms in the cold trench lay, Waiting no longer the dawning of day ; And O'Ut with the souls went the words of brave Joe, "Boys, I am glad my mother don't know ; Like Joe, boys, I'm glad she don't know." GEMS O F P O E S y 38^ FIVE YEARS AGO. T FLORENCE M. SAUNDERS. WAS just five years ago I left this dear old place To help defend my country And win the noble race. I left a woman, sad and pale, A little maiden fair. Whose laughing eyes and golden hair Filled my heart with keen despair. To war I went five years ago, And on that sad, sad morn, "Oh, must you go?" said this maiden fair. "To be alone we cannot bear. Oh, must you fight the men in gra}- ? Save him, God," she cried, "alvvay !"' With aching heart I hurried forth Just five years ago today. Yes, 'twas just five years ago I left this dear old place ; Now I return with head bent low. To greet me there's no loving face. A friend passed, walking slowly by, I asked him where my dear ones were. He quickly pointed tO' the sky. Back to the battle field he went And, fighting nobly, met his death. 384 G E M S O F P or E S V DISAPPOINTED, MY DARLING. w SARAH MASON SAWYER. HILE on the shore by the calni sea I thought my darling would be with me, While the grass was green and the flowers in bloom. Disappointed, my darling, in that month of June ! And on last Thanksgiving day My darling was yet far. far away, And did not come with me to dine, Disappointed, my darling, was I at that time ! As the Christmas bells were ringing I knew my darling was somewhere singing, With some other one and not with me. Disappointed, my darling, on Christmas eve ! Now the birds are singing as of yore, The pansies and roses are in bloom once more. My darling's with me, as 1 knew she'd be. Disappointed not, my darling, this summer eve ! GEMS OF POESY 3S3 WHILE THE STARS AND STRIPES FLOATED NEAR. w MARY L. HAYS. HILE sweet roses were blooming at his far away home, A brave soldier boy was guarding all alone His post in a trench at Santiago. Naturally his thoughts would roam To his dear old American home, And to his mother who was dwelling there alone, When a Spanish spy sent a bullet thro' his breast. As he fell he called a comrade to his side, Thsn told him to tell his mother how he died, While bravely guarding his post of duty. Chorus. While the stars and stripes were floating near They laid him to rest with sweet roses on his breast ; As the band played "Dixie" soft and low At a little village churchyard Near his dear old American home. As his comrades gathered around Tears on every face were found, For he was gay as well as brave And many of the Spanish Don's Had fallen by the bullets frorti his gun. As his life was failing fast a comrade asked, "Wovildn't you like the band to play 'Dixie ? ' " "Yes," he replied, "and I want to see our flag, The dear old stars and stripes, floating near As I bid farewell to my comrades here." ^86 GEMS OF POESY SLUMBERING MOTHER. CLARA H. LARSON. w HEN mother was here to share my woe She marked the path my feet were to go It is many, yes, many a year ago Since they laid my loving mother low. But ah ! I shall never forget the day When she was hid from my sight away. Oh ! Why did they dig her grave so deep , Will not God awaken her from her sleep ? In my dreary life I try to sing As gay as the birds with flutt'ring wing, But my song ends in a low refrain, And my thoughts go wandering to where she's lain. I have a friend, so dear to me. Who looks on her grave so solemnly, — , It's the dear old moon, so silv'ry white That, watches my mother's grave at night. Tonight I must take my last farewell Of her resting place and where I dwell ; Slumbering mqther, your grave is so still, Do you like to sleep on the side of a hill ? The buttercups in the little dell — You used to love them very well — They've put on their daintiest hair of gold, They know not thy lips lare forever cold. The birds you loved their songs do sound. While you must mould beneath the ground. Dear slumbering mother, I tell you all, I forget you are beyond recall ; I forget you are speechless, dear good mother. But I do not caie to speak to another. Goodbye, dear stone that hides your face. Slumbering mother God knows your place. GEMS Of POESY 387 REMEMBRANCE. w L. MARION LATIMER. HEN the evening shadows gather, And the trials of hfe are o'er, When I sleep beneath the daisies With the loved who have gone before, I ask for no shaft of marble. Or granite, so costly and rare, To point to the world about me. My last lowly resting place there. I ask, and my heart will rejoice, If under the daisies I know. That those who have once loved me dearly Will oft to my resting place go. And, if these words could be spoken, They'd lighten my sleep 'neath the sod, "She helped me on in life's struggle And show'd me the pathway to God." And, if some one in life's battle That I'd helped to a higher sphere, Should visit the quiet city And shed o'er me one heart-felt tear, Heaven's joy would be the brighter, Sweeter would sound its songs to me, While my heart beats to its music, When the hosts of Heaven I see. S88 GEMS OF POESY THE SONG OF THE SWAN. A. M. KING. ONELY in the valley I ' Must lay me down and ling'ring die, Doom'd to trill in last drawn breath With newborn voice my dirge of death ! To leave I grieve, I grieve to leave This slumb'ring dell, with streamlet glassy fair, With none, not one, my parting song to hear. Near me flows the crystal stream, Whose surface, woo'd by flick'ring beam. Oft I've floated down in youth When death seem'd not in realms of truth. Slow glide, cool tide. Cool tide, slow glide. No more my cloudy folds of snowy dress Shall rufifling on thy tranquil bosom press ! Sunny sheen how soft appears. How still the calm all nature wears ; ■ Not a breeze, not a leaflet shakes. Not a singing bird the quiet breaks. \ All alone, forlorn. Forlorn, all alone I pour forth strains in fever'd, failing breath And sing my first, last, only song in death Mate nor young I see about To soothe me as life fades out. Filmy veils of vap'ry dyes Are dark'ning fast my closing eyes I pass, alas ! Alas! I pass Fore'er from cherish'd dale and streamlet dear. Ah! where? a soul have ll Ah! where? Ah! where? GEMS OF POESY ^Sg THE OTHER FELLOW'S LIGHT. w W ILI.IA.M JOHN I'.UR'ISCHKK. HEN the night is dark and rainy, And you're on your way to town, Just a-walking and a-stalking — Sometimes up and sometimes down; When you think there comes a puddle, And you don't know what to do, Yet you dodge this way and that — But you blindly walk right thro' — Then, aren't you glad to see your neighbor With his lantern shining bright, So you can safely walk to the city By the other fellow's light ? When your life is dark and crooked, And you're on your way to — well, Just a-gliding and a-sliding down And down to death and very hell ; When you think you're lost forever In a puddle of blackest sin. And there is no Christ to save you And no Heaven to enter in — Then, aren't you glad to see a Christian With his headlight shining bright, So you can safely walk to the Savior By the other fellow's light ? 390 GEMS OF POESY BESSIE AND I. w WILLIAM A. LEWIS. HEN Bessie and I were passing The little brown church on the hill, We stopped and gazed around us And everything was still. We little thought of the time we'd spent On the hillside by the stream. It seems to me but yesterday, — O God, is it only a dream? She with her sunny floating hair, A Blond, and only sixteen. Could a truer type of beauty Be seen in the land of the queen? As she walked by my side that summer day, So young, so pure and fair. She was a perfect beauty, That day in the summer air. "Bessie, if I should ask you To be my loving bride, Would you accept my proffered wish And be my joy and pride?" She paused in her walk a moment, As if my face tO' search, — "Dear, loving Al, I gave you my heart When we passed the little brown church." GEMS O t FOES Y jgi WHY ? HARKY A. EDWARDS CAN'ST tell me why the flowers blossom but to fade ? And shadows creep where sunlight shone before. And angry tempests rise and beat In sullen fury 'gainst life's shore ? Life's little day is ebbing fast away While time flies on apace. Can'st tell me why the friends we loved the most Have gone and left us strangers in their place ? Can'st tell me why the purple hue of childhood's day Has vanished like some dream of long ago ? And all the joys of life it promised then Were ne er fulfilled? I fain would know. And why, just as the hand was stretched to grasp the prize It disappeared into the unknown — where ' And why ofttimes beneath the brightest sniile The heart it must conceal a quivering tear ? And yet e'en while I ask, I know it cannot be. No answer to my question will be vouchsafed to me. Dame Nature with unswerving course her task will still pursue,. And it matters not, if she thinks it right, That some should have peace while others fight, Or the sigh for me and the smile for you. Yet echo answers echo's oft repeated cry From millions who have asked it: "Can'st tell me whv ?" 392 G_E MS 1^ P O E S \ MEMORIES. liKACK L. DUWEV. WHERE'ER I walk, in garden or crowded street, Always some reminder of you, sweetheart, is there. The rose exhaling" its fragrance sweet, The passers, and the many lights that flare. The sound of the wheels that onward roll. The clatter of horses' feet, quickened by the coachman's lash. The many bells that on the Sabbath toll. The lightning's gleam, that across the storm clouds flash. And when from these scenes I sadly turn, Forgetfulness to seek midst a gay throng on the sands, I only pass unheeding, to pause and muse on a fancied picture That seems in the dull red sunset's glow to burn. The tireless echoes, that find a home in old ocean's hollow shells, Mingle memories with the low murmur of the sea to surge through the brain ; Seeming ever the same sad story to tell, And forever and ever to whisper and echo your name. Perchance your heart and hand by another is claimed, While one you scorned still with sacred reverence withholds, Just a faded picture of a face by clustering ringlets framed. And the withered flower that of broken vows and the death of love foretold. Through time's hollow channels have flown the years. From roseate youth to withering age, And through the long vistas of the past I gaze with unbidden tears. While mingled emotions in my soul for supremacy a silent battle waofe. G E M S OF FOES \ 393 BESIDE THE WATERS. SUSAN IIOL'CK. 'OME love to dwell where ocean's roar ' Doth break in surges on the ^hore, Or see the waters sweep away Within some placid, land-locked bay. Some with the bittern's cry awake, Encamped by lonely mountain lake. And see the dashing waterfall Leap from the dizzy mountain wall. And rushing on from crag to crag, O'er rocky pitch or surface jagged, Find at its foot again a home. Maddened to spray and white with foam. Some where the mighty rivers run, "From rise of morn to set of sun, " Do float or sail and pass away The sunny hours of summer's day. But where the silver waters flow 'Tis there my heart doth long to go. Away among the cool green hills There flows the shadiest of rills. The grasses stoop to kiss its feet. The flowers bend its song to greet ; And by its side a meadow green, An orchard, too, doth paint the scene. And in that safe and calm retreat The earth seems good and life is sweet ; The heart need nev^er know a care, The brow forgets its sh?ide to wear. So I would seek the sheltering hills, And there beside the murmuring rills Would lengthen out the golden days — The quiet waters have my praise. 394 GEMS O}^ POESY I AM DREAMING OF THE OLD FIRESIDE. B. A. MELVILLE. I AM dreaming- of my childhood's home, How we used to gather round the fire at night, And the merry jest and laugh went round, And the faces of the girls and boys grew bright. I see again my gentle mother's smile, And father, as of old, sits nodding- in his chair; I hear again the stories, join the games, While glee and laughter show hearts free from care. The apples we wasted at the old fireside. And the chestnuts popping out of their shells. The cookies and all the good cheer, The picture still in fond niemor\- dwells. But the ashes are cold at the old fireside. And the rafters have fallen away. And no longer the walls echo back The shO'Uts of the children at play. Nearly all of the dear ones who gathered Round the old fireside at night Have crossed over the unseen river To the realms of glory bright. And a loving welcome awaits us In the portals fair and wide, And in Heaven it will be sweet to remember The happy Jiours at the old fireside. GEMS OF POESY 395 W WHY? PAULINE SPRAGUE. HY is it we long for sunshine When there comes a cloudy day? Why do we love the summer more After it has passed away? Why do we prize the flowers most After the winter has come, And the frost has kissed the blossoms Till their beauty all has gone? Why is it we wish in childhood That we might much older be? Why can we not enjoy ourselves When from care^we are so free? Then, after we have older grown, Near our three score years and ten, Why is it we so often wish Just to be a child again? Why don't we always remember That when we have older grown We are sure to reap the harvest Of the seed which we have sown? Why is it w^e are not contented To take things just as they come?' Why not strive in time of trouble To say, "Thy will, not mine, be done?" 396 GEMS OF POESY vSPRINGTIME IN THE COUNTRY. T DORSEV C. COLLIER. HE Sim peeps up from behind the hill And shines on the plain so fair, While the noisy old bird — the whip-poor-will Concludes his morning air. The lark gets up from a drowsy sleep, And sirigs to the morning light, While the quail, who promised his tongu^ to keep, Says, "Bob White! Old Bob White !" The little dog gets up with a smile And laughs at the old cat sneeze ; Then in aristocratic style Says, "Give me my breakfast, please. " The chickens that flew down from the trees. Have gathered 'round their coops, While the children out in their little bare feet Are rolling and bouncing their hoops. The cows have from the pasture come And are lowing at the gate ; The milkmaid's running with the pail To milk ere it is too late. The breakfast bells begin to ring And all gather 'round the table. Eat a hearty breakfast and then All go to work that's able. GEMS OF POESY S97 ROLL ON, THOU OCEAN WAVE. C. WILSON. ROLL on, thou ocean wave, in thy heaving billows roll, From the far off distance surge onward with mighty force. As the strong wind, with its restless power, swept thee on Roll on, thou crashing billows that resound with ceaseless noise. Roll on, roll on through sunshine and through storm. Roll on as thou hast done in ages past Till time shall be no more. Many noble ships have rode on the waves of thy heaving bosom ; Others untold have svmk in thy black depths to rise no more. Roll on, from Greenland's mountains with its bleak and desolate shore To India's coral strand that quivers with the fervent heat of day; From shore to shore in every land and clime both far and near Roll on with ceaseless roar as of yore. Roll on till time shall be no more. 398 GEMS OF P O E S } NIGHTFALL. MARY DILLE. NIGHTFALL is drawing dark curtains around, Weary day slumbers, there is no sound; Nightfall is master of ceremonies now. But why that dark cloud o'ershadowing your brow? Your task is bright compared to the day. O! tell me what troubles you so, I pray. I, the ocean, have a great mission to fulfill, I go at my daily task with a right good will ; Storm clouds are apt to beset me both day and night. But I shall go on bravely with a heart that is light. O nightfall, cast the dark and gloomy thoughts away And be as cheerful, bright and happy as the day. The elements whisper very gently to you, Chase the dark clouds away, bid gloomy thoughts adieu There will be a responsive chord vibrate anew, As all nature in harmony passes on through. Get in touch with nature and your friendship renew, You will be ready to bid former thoughts adieu. We see those dark and gloomy clouds passing away. Oh now you can yourself in great splendor array. As you are in touch with nature's harmonious cloud Which you had cast away and replaced with a shroud ; But your heart strngs are now beautifully tuned Since von have with all of the elements communed. GEMS OF POESY jgg AT DEATH OF DAY. CHARLES SEBASTIAN MOORE. HEN angels with their torches bright Are gathering in the sky ; Amid the approaching hours of night, When softly fades the golden light, And day begins to die. Twelve funeral cars with lamps afire Cloves on that heavenly minstrelsy; To music of each golden lyre The}' place him on his funeral pyre, Entombed in past eternity. Ho! bearers of the dear dead day, How grand your funeral march ! As calm in regal state he lay. Enwrapt in purple, gold and gray. His tomb the emblazoned arch. How dead that soul that never hears, Nor ever sees that bright array Move to the music of the spheres. Or weep its sad nocturnal tears Upon the death of day. And when at last shall come our night. With shattered hopes, life's lamp low burning, So ho ! ye angels of the light, Come guide us with your torches bright Upon our home-returning. 400 GEMS OF FOES Y GO ON. MRS. ADDIE A. ARTMAN. *HALL I attain to heights unknown, ' Eat of the fruit which I have sown, Ascend the flight of steps so high That ever beckon to the sky, Inspiring my soul to try to do, With sight to see beyond and through The mists which always seem to rise And cloud the way before my eyes ? Why these longings without an end If the All- Wise Father did not send ? Place them within my breast to be Incentives to a growth for me ? The restless something ever urges on, Whispering, "Child of earth, go on, Although the heights for which you strive Lie far, far beyond. You are alive With a divine, infinite spark That, with time and patience, lights and dark If you will only persevere. Never yield, give way to doubt or fear. This spark, once lighted, will not flinch To burn its way through rock and flint. And at the eventide of day Those heights which seemed so far away Shall come so close we'll turn aside To see that in our eventide We have done life's little day. With love and laurels 'round our way, Because we listened at early dawn To the voice which ever said, "Go on !" GEMS O t POESY 4or NATURE. MAMIE ACKERl.V. A T an eai'ly hour of the dewy morn I awoke from dreamland fair, When I heard the sweet birds singing And their melodious voices ringing Out in the balmy air. I looked from my pleasant window Out at the world so fair, And beheld beauty in nature's doings And sweet blossoms scented the air. The cherry blossoms so pure and white Had entirely vanished from our sight, When one cool morning I took a stroll And came across the marigold. The trees were robed in their garlands of splendor And the fields were fresh and green, And many fragrant tiowers In the woodlands were to be seen. The violets blue, the daisies too, And buttercups so golden, The pink wild rose and clover goes To await next tlowery season. Oh the leaves on the trees have all turned brown \. And have fallen to the ground. While the grasses, too, have changed their hue And snow is covered o'er them. The air is frosty, the sunshine bright, And I know that winter is my delight. For you know it brings Christmas, Dear girls and boys, And with it so many other joys. Oh let us be joyful and thank the dear Fath-er^ Who sends us four seasons Of sunshine and shower. * 402 GEMSOhPOE S \ WAriMNG. THOMAS V. GRAHAM. I Of encouragement on your part, to ask you to be mine ; But the words are yet unspoken and the day has come to part, Still I see no answer in your eyes to soothe my aching- heart. I've been longing night and morning, since the first day that 1 met you, To kiss those rosy lips of yom-s, m\' own sweet loving pet; And sometimes I think you want me, as you raise your eyes to greet me. But I cannot muster com'age to try and kiss you yet. Sometimes I think you love me, in my throbbing heart I feel it. But you seem to hide the secret when I raise my eyes to thee ; For I See you always blushing when I press your hand and wishing That I should ask vou. l\atv, dear, mv little wife to be. GEMS OF POESY 403 AFTER THE STORM. T MARV \-. ASMAN. HE roosters crow, the rain is OA^er, The shimb'ring drops hang on the clover; Drops that tinge the waving grain, Drops that kiss the tass'Hng corn. Drops of silver, drops of gold, Nature's rain does God unfold. Drip, drip, the summer storm is over. With flapping wings birds emerge from cover, Gifts of power to beast and man. On the mountain, in the vale. Rain brings gladness to the plain, Nature's rain does God proclaim. The ra:n is o'er, swcjllen streams are flowing, The gladsome cows come homeward lowing, Sizzling, rippling brooks run on And a gem-set rainbow crown Makes earth's bosom freshlv glow At sight of God's glad rainbow. 404 GEMS OF POESY WHEN TEDDY HITS THE WEST. H TKADDEUS C. HISTED. E can have my old revolver And my scalping knife to boot ; He can have my lost cinnamon And grizzly bear to shoot ; He can take my tent and terbacker, And jacks and prospect tool ; He may climb the highest mountain In the Rockies on my mule He can have my Injun sweetheart, My lease at Cromwell Point ; He may fry his Injun flapjacks In my skillet at the joint ; He can have my Injun blanket, The varmints and my all ; He can take my tattoo needles, My hounds and bugle call He can dance the Injun war dance And scrape the river bed For nuggets that we missed, some More precious than we hed. He can have my old worn rocker To wash the yellow dust, And yell the wild old war whoop Until his lungs would bust. He can have my buckskin leggins, And my tattered government coat, That old grey cayuse pony And my presidential vote ; He'll ne'er be sorry he met us, And his trip will do him good. He'll see we all are friendly And his speeches understood. GEMS Of POESY 405 ONE LITTLE FLOWER. JEKKIE C. LLOYD. ' WEETHEART, I have one little flower, ' That's growing all for you. 'Tis in the garden of my heart, Quite hidden from your view. . I wonder if you'd ever guess The name this flower bears, And if this flower you'd care to win In the swiftly coming years. Oh, sweetheart, if I only knew One little thought you'd give To this one flower of my heart With this sweet hope I'd live. Sometimes I think 'twere better Had it not flourished there ; But never would I feel this way If I only thought you'd care. I know not why this flower came And grew in my garden bare. Perhaps it was just sent to me To take away my care. Ah, tell me rq,ust I pluck it now ? 'Twill leave my garden bare. Or shall I let it die away Because you do not care ? }^o6 GEMS OF POESY THE OLD AIILE STONE. w LUCY HARRINGTON JOHNSON. HENE'ER I see the old mile-stone My heart is touched with scenes more fair, The happy hours of childhood days, When life was ever free from care. How nrany times I've lingered near That staid old stone, sO' old and grey ; It e'er shall be a friend most true When other friends have passed away. Nay ! do not move that old mile-stone, My grandsire helped to place it there ; It marks the wa\' to ni}- old home And I shall strive to keep it there. ^Refrain : — It stands alone, that old mile-stone. Where it has stood through weal and woe ; It marks the way. the dear old way, The way we trod so long ago. GEMS OF POESY 407 MOTHER, LOVE AND HOME. I IKA M. TOOTHMAN. 'M dreaming now of happy hours, As mem'ry backward flies Across the years of childhood days With bright and sunny skies. When life was all sweet pleasure then There were no days of gloom ; The wild birds sang their dearest songs, The flowers in splendor bloomed. Chorus. Take me back to those golden days, I do not want to roam ; There let me dwell in childhood's world With mother, love and home. Through all life's pleasures and its pain. We never can forget. The joys of childhoods happy hours Are bright in mem'ry yet Fair nature's school — those lovely scenes- Our greetings and our plays, And mother dear, the queen of home. Queen of those golden days. Down in the past are treasures of youth, 'Tis there I long to roam ; What then was childhood's paradise Is now a broken home. Mother is with the angels fair, A loving life has flown ; Now only in sweet dreams I roam Rack to that dear old home. 4oS G E MS OF FOES V THE SWANEE RIVER. I ROBERT M. HICKS. N a cabin near the lovely river Sits a darky, feeble, old and gray, — His heart beats warm with the fond hope To see again his boy that has gone away. As he sits on a bench near his cabin His bowed head is raised for joy. For over in the distance, advancing. Is the figure of his long lost soldier boy. And when the moon shines down on the waters, And the waves wash the quiet shore, Where the pickaninnies are always singing You'll hear these earnest words from soldier Joe; "How oft have I longed for the Swanee River And for the banks where I have played in vain ; Above all I have longed for our log cabin And to see the children playing in the lane "I have traveled and seen many wonders That only terrorized my brain with pain, But my great desire and high anticipation Was to see my father and cabin home again. " "I'm satisfied to live upon the Swanee, I will never heave a saddened sigh, And should the Master be so kind to call me 'Twill make me ever happy ere I die. GEMS OF POESY 409 SWEET AUTUMN. ALICE E. CAREY. T^HE leaves ot the trees in the sweet autumn are falling, ^ And the schoolboys so gay are shouting and calling ; They have idled all summer, their hearts have been gay, But now at their studies the}' work and not play ; They are happier now than they were when they idled, For home they can sail when their horses are bridled. Oh, the days of the summer, in joy they have ended. And the boys through the woods in the sports no more wander; They play in the sand while to school they are going. And gather the leaves which sweet autumn is throwing. The harvest is over, no more grows the clover. It will sleep in the garden till winter is over. The sun's rays are cooler on hill and in valley ; All nature seems crowned with a cold cap of mist ;, The birds to the southward are wearily winging, While the children at school are merrily singing ; And sweet is the quiet, tho' lonely and drear, O autumn, sweet autumn, I'm glad you are here. 410 GEMS OF POESY MX BABY'S PRAYER. MYRTLE HAVXKS PRITCIIARD. w HAT matter if the burdens have been heavy today, <.)r if I've found some thorns scattered in my way? Some way I am able to forgive the things that are amiss — \Mien I hear my l:)aby's prayer, and get a goodnight kiss ! To me 'tis a ])rivilege (hvine. Of joys this brings the best, To have my Httle one folded close upon my breast. The world seems transformed into a haven of bliss \\'hen I hear my baby's prayer and get a goodnight kiss. While I can not know what the future may hold. Yet I know I'll be happy through the years that unfold If I may enjoy divine rapture like unto this — When I hear my baby's prayer and get a goodnight kiss. G E M S O F POESY 411 SUN FLOWER. w MARIE C. REED. E WILL sing- of the sunflower x\nd sing every hour, Sing- in the sunshine And sing in the shower. For what cheers a lonely heart Like song, sunshine and flowers? Then sing of the sunflower, The commonest of flowers. For what is more fitting In this country of ours? Then sing of the sunflower. Its brown and its gold. May its virtues e'er be extolled ; Long may it fiourish in heat or in cold. It scorns its environment and grows Tall and smiling in garden or fold. Wlio. in retrospect, does not remember Its brown and its gold in a past September, Though it towers head and shoulders O'er its neighbors around. It smiles down upon them As they gather around. So let us, like the sunflower, Glad and peaceful be found. 412 GEMS O F P O E S \ THY LIFE ON EARTH. I JESSIE MA^■ POWELL. F in thy life on earth You can cause a thought of peace In the chamber or by the hearth, Give an aching heart surcease. There's no sorrow, Lord, too light. There's no anxious care too slight, But the Lord will make it right When our ends so strangely meet And the bitter turns to sweet. Be ready when comes the message to go, Willing to wait if He orders it so. To be a help, then, I must seek. My strength is small, my arms are weak. Or from the future tear the mask. And yet we dream and still we ask, And yet we question, dream and guess. But knowledge we du not possess. Is there beyond the silent night An endless day? We cannot say. The tongueless secret locked in fate We do not know, we hope and wait. In heights and depths to us unknown, Which never yet has failed its own, And long the way, but the reward is great Since it but ends in Thee. GEMS OF POESY 4n SHUN THE FIRST GLASS, MY BOY. N MRS. M. A. GOSS. EVER let them beguile you, dear innocent boy, Somebody's darling and somebody's joy. Into tasting the first glass of wine so red. Listen to wisdom and heed what is said The steps are so easy, one to another , And a habit that sticketh closer than a brother. Soon you can't stop and you'll wish you were dead ; Take timely warning and do not be led. "If sinners entice thee, consent thou not ;" Let this grand old proverb be never forgot, And you never will taste the fatal glass ; Resist the temptation and let Satan pass. Nor enter the ranks of sin and woe, Whose acciirsed power will lay you low ; If you'll turn from them all and let them pass, And shun as a leper this villainous class. There is death in the wine-cup, oh then beware ! Consent thou not to this Satan's snare ; For he's hidden from sight as a beast in his lair, And his livery is dazzling and dangerously fair. Shun the first glass, then the problem's solved. Stand like a rock when thus resolved. And you never will taste the second, it's sure ; You'll never then its tortures have to endure. You never will have the sin to deplore, Of being a drunkard, sinking lower and lower ; Losing all semblance of the boy so pure, In black despair that holds no cure. Reaching the gutter and then the grave. Himself nor his friends neither power to save. Dying the death of an impotent slave. Only dark oblivion for him they crave. 414 GEMS 01^ POESY THE TWENTIETH CENTURY WOMAN. D AUGUST W. KRUGER. IF'FERENT men may vary, and differently may see, But I wish to tell you what I believe her to be. She is truthful and loving, and does not much scold; She has an education and will not be sold. She loves her husband dearly and helps him get along ; 'Tis she can write a poem and also sing a song. She does her work neatly and studies well her books ; She plans, economizes, and always cheerful looks. She loves the right to vote, to election goes she; She is opposed to liquor and votes "No for me." She uses her influence, keeps men from being bad ; Helps keep the saloon down, saves homes from being sad. She knows all man knows, is acquainted with book and pen, She is a great woman, helps" mankind to be great men. GEMS O F P O E S y 4^5 WHY TRY TO RECALL THE PAST? w LEONARD J. COURT. HY try to recall the golden past, Those byg"one years of sorrow and joy That echo refrain of hopes and fears Like inspiring; music to our fond ears. Which comes stealing afar, from the mystic shore Like dreams that are gone and forever are o'er? Why try to recall the past again. And wish for those things that might have been? How foolish to- wish for those unforeseen pow'rs. And for jewels we' have lost in our careless hours. Bid adieu to the past with its joys and pain, And look to the future which new jovs contains. 4i6 GEMS OF POESY THE MORTGAGED FARM EMILY SAZZEAN. ^