Book JS^fS Gop>TightN°_nMi COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. The First Shearing BY M. BATTERHAM LINDESAY Ok Asheville, N. C. I,/ ISirljutuuD. llirgiuia Whittet & vSheiterson, Publishers and Printers 1904 LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two CoDlcs Received JUN 24 1904 j^ Cooyrfeht Entry Mux. ^ it-; C^P^- 6LASS Ot- XXo. No. Cf I 1.1. C ' COPY B .X5H VS \ ^04 Copyrighted, 1904, BY M. BATTERHAM LINDSAY. BaUhnorf, ^[d., Octolwr ig^ iSSj. For Nancy's sake I have bee^i strong ayid true ; For her dear sake I have been bold and brave , And zvho shall say, because the skies are blue, That I have but a nieniry and a grave? PREFACE. It is with much trepidation that this vohime of fugitive ^'erse is issued to the puhhc. To cheer the duh hours of a few dear women, cliiefly mothers- in-law and stepmothers, the authoress has dared to infringe upon the pul)hc sympathy — trusting that longsuffering element, while considering the motive, will condone the offence. M. B. L. CONTENTS. Page. The Day's Work, 13 The Kindergarten Work, 14 The Old Home by the Nene 15 A Portrait, 16 A Thanksgiving, 17 Cease Thy Fears, 18 The Bride's Song, 19 Bonnie j\Iay 21 Woman's Crown, 23 A Birthday Wisli, 24 An Acrostic, 25 The Ex- Slave, 28 Woodland Notes, 29 Written for the Montford Mother's Club, 30 Draining the Zuyder Zee, 31 The Wise Man, ;i2 Expression, t,^ To-Day, 34 A Story of the Sea, 35 A Requiem, 38 Mary, Queen of Scots, 39 My Sweetheart, 40 Lines to a Shut-in, 41 The Gospel of Health. 42 Who Knows ? 43 The Cemetery 44 Bill Nye's Neglected Grave, 45 The Cemetery at Night, 46 United, 47 A Fragment, 48 6 THIl FIRST SHEARING. Page. Easter Even 49 Pm it By, 50 To W. B., 51 My Neighbor's Light, 32 To a Sick Friend 53 Hope 54 A Reminder 55 Answer to "Dawn in Russia," 56 At Rest, 57 Home, 58 A Man and His Mother, 59 The Old Folks' Christmas, 60 John O'Leary, Hero 62 Whittet"s Sonnets, 65 Taxing the Bachelors, 66 Funeral of Queen Victoria 67 Twain's Christendom, 69 The Building of Zion, 71 The Men of Caister, 74 What Matters ? 78 The Sweetest Thing on Earth 80 Encouragement 82 To Whom it May Concern 83 Lenten Verso 85 Words, 86 To an Old Lady 87 Not Death, 88 Patience and Strength 8p The Birds 90 Toleration 91 A Lost Love 92 Lines on the Receipt of a Nurse's Photograph 93 A WHiite Day, 94 A New Country 95 Prosperity, 96 THE FIRST SHEARING. Pagk. Words of Cheer 97 Faithless Work 98 To A. M. C, 99 00 03 05 06 08- 09 10 II 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 The Right Kind of Boy, Sister Jackson's Prayer Enough, The Sorrowful Star Rain in the Street, A Word for the Sparrow, Servia's New Dynasty, A Lesson in Floods A Saving Grace, "Vote as You Pray," Sunshine and Shadow The Land of Make-Believe, To E. R. B Next to Nothing A Universal Prayer To the St. Barnabas Guild of Nurses. The Editor, The Spirit of the Hills, Education, The Building of a Home, What is Worth While Driftwood Nearer Home Rain in the Woods Johnny's Story To M. R. B., The Quiet Day A Grain of Salt Rock Ferns, The Beauty of Imperfect ion The Word that's Left Unsaid A Picture 9 30 31 32 ^^ 35 36 8 THE FIRST SHEARING. Vm.b. The Unspeakable Turk, 137 Justice: A Picture, 138 The Story of a Rose, 139 A Thought Reclothed 143 Tahkceostee 145 Sonship 146 Lines on the Death of Miss Amelia Miller, 14S A Borrowed Expression. 149 Nesting-Time, 1 50 To a Voyager, 151 Song 1 52 To a Nurse, 153 A View from the Pearson Estate, 154 A Cradle in the House, 155 The Soul's Yearning, 156 Little Shoes 157 Wrinkles, 159 Un and Again ! 160 Mary Lee, i6t The Woods, 1 62 Old Letters, 163 To a Flock of Wild Geese, 164 To a St. Bernard 165 Three Roses 166 The Source of Happiness, 167 The Sculptor's Test, 168 Life 170 No Mercy for Him, 171 Wiiat Is It ? 172 "Ould Ireland." 173 Thy Will 175 '•'A Born Poet," 176 England and America, 177 A Plea for the Birds, 178 The Newest New Woman, 179 THE FIRST SHEARING. 9 I'AGK. The Last Word, i8o "Declined, with Thanks," 182 The Threat of a Three-Year-Old, 183 An Incident of Pinewoods Fire, 184 One Day, 186 "Witchwood," 187 A Mother's Grave, 188 To S. H. H 189 Homeless 190 Tree Planting, 191 To a Sister, 192 The Baby, 193 Wherefore ? 195 Morning Voices, 196 The Laborer, 197 A Snmmer Night in the South 198 H— 199 One of the Sweet Old Chapters, 200 Remove, 201 To a Singer, 203 It is Well, 204 To a Mother, 205 A Timely Question, 206 The Fate of Aaron Burr's Daughter, 207 On the Election of President AIcKinley, 209 Gladstone, 210 Croatan, 211 Death, 213 The Feast Spread, 214 Lines to a Bride, 215 William C. Whitney 216 The Open Grave 217 Aunt Nancy, 218 Gone Before, 219 The Fall of a Tree, 220 JO THE FIRST SHEARLWG. Page. Take Heart of Ciracc 224 Grandma --5 What Mean the Words ? 226 The New Sonth 227 To N. G 228 Christian Resignation 229 The Old Religion 231 A Name 2:^2 The Coming of the Christ Child 233 Little Cecil 236 The La])or of the Hands 237 H. M. S 238 Anent the War 239 Lost ■" 241 Over the Tay 242 To a Beantifnl Woman 244 An Incident of a Fire 245 Courage. Grit. Honor 246 A Fable 247 To a Minister of the Gospel 248 The First Thanksgiving 249 A Minister's Wife 251 The New Year 252 ]\Iarch Winds 253 L'se Your Talent. 254 B\- the Log Fire 255 A Picture 256 Trinity Church 257 Longfellow 258 Innocence and Guilt 259 The Burial of Tennyson 263 The Railroad Boys 264 Lines Addressed to the State Organizer. Sons of Temper- ance ?^^ God's Mercy, 266 THE FIRST SHEARING. 1 1 Page. Mother's Day, 267 Merrie Christmas, 269 Ox-Ejre Daisies by Moonlight, 270 The First Rose 271 The Day Dawn 272 The Optimist 274 Pea Vines in November 275 Good Friday, 276 To a Feathered Visitor 277 Sins of Omission, 278 Easter, 279 A Word, 280 Autumn, 281 A Rose in November, '. 282 A Grand Thought, 283 The Camp-Fire, 284 The Mine at Hot Springs 285 An Autumn Walk 286 Hemp, 289 By Their Fruits 290 After All, 291 To a Loved One, 292 Shakespeare 294 A Word for the Dog 295 A Plea for the Wildwood 296 A Word of Truth 297 Finis, 299 AN INTRODUCTION, She saidy " This is my black sheep^' 'The Mater dear^ one daw I caught my breathy but straightway laughed The passing joke away. I was a little bit surprised^ But neither hurt nor wroth ^ lor oft, I knew, the black sheep's wool Becomes the finest cloth. THE FIRST SHEARING. The Day's Work. If you have eased some soul to-day, Have helped it upward ou life's way: And, if you were to die to-night, Your hands would not be empty, quite; You'd bear one sheaf of golden grain, To show you had not lived in vain. If you have taught a child to shun The paths of evil, or have done Enough to make a sinner turn. And for the ways of virtue yearn — Then, though all earth be on the wane. Your song shall be the victor's strain. And if you never turn awav The hungry from your door, nor stay Your hand to heed the sufferer's cry, It matters not what wealth goes by — You have the treasure that shall stay When all the earth has passed away. 14 THE FIRST SHEARING. A Kindergarten Som Little hands so weak and small, Scarce can lift or bring at all; Helping" mother every day, In their own sweet, gentle way. Picking up so clean and neat Everything beneath our feet ; Waiting on the baby, too — Little hands so much can do. Little feet that dance away All the long, glad, busy day; "J^'otting ever in and out — Wonder what they are about? Running errands to the store, Ever hurrying on before. Little feet and little hands. Greatest help in all the lands. THE FIRST SHEARING. 15 The Old Home by the Nene. The old house by the river Nene, Stood in the poplar's shade, \\'hen we were little children, And in the pastures played: They tell me they are fallen now. That all have passed away, Yet there is much that is the same, As in that by-gone day. The holly-tree is standing where, \Mien earth was white with snow. We used to watch the robin hop So boldly to and fro ; The walnut trees are just the same, The filberts bearing still ; I never taste such nuts as theirs: Of course, I never will. The cherry-tree is now forgot^ Tm rather glad 'tis gone, It used to give me nettle-rash Whene'er I climbed upon ! 1 5 THE FIRST SHEARING. The violets beneath the hedge. They say, are blooming yet, Their fragrance and their modesty I never can forget. Ah ! Memory loves to linger back, With i)leasure nearly pain, To other scenes and other days ^^'e cannot know again: And so I think, while life shall last, Though ocean rolls l^etween, Each one of us will cherish still "Our Old Home bv the Nene." A Portrait I KNOW a man. When fortune fa\-ors him, he is a gentleman, And this to all; but when adversity. Cold, chilling, cruel, sweeps over him and his, He is a king, commander of himself and circum- stance. THE FIRST SHEARING. 17 A Thanksgiving. Father, we thank thee! For the IjonncHng- pulse of hfe; For the strength to stem the strife; For the right against the wrong; For the music and the song; For the love that we can bring ; For the thought with eagle wing; For the soul that soars above Earthly hope and human love; For the mind whose gifted eye Can Omnipotence descry; For the hope of life to be, For Redemption's mighty plea ; Father, we thank thee ! Father, we thank thee ! For the earth to mankind given. Sky and air and highest heaven. For the cloud and rain and sun ; Nature's blessings every one ; For the trees and leaves and flowers, 2 1 8 THE FIRST SHEARING. Making Eden of earth's bowers; For the shade and for the shine, Every boundless gift of thine; For the mighty throl3l)ing- sea, Fittest emblem here of thee! For all things that li\e and move. Constant sureties of thy l()\'e; Father, we thank thee ! Cease thy Fears Cease tliy fears, dear heart, for me ; The world is \ery wide. And man}' souls are tossed abi»ut By ever\' wind and tide. Mow blest are we, who, anchored safe In haven wide and still. Secure from every blast that blows, And safe from e\-erv ill. THE FIRST SHEARING. 19 The Bride's Song. An Incident of a Recent Disaster. "Nearer, my God. to thee." It was on a railroad journe)'. and a }'oiuhful l)i-ide was there. \\ itli a gay and merry part}', and the bridegroom hov'ring near ; riie}- were Ixumd for some fair cit}', where the gay and gifted throng. And the merr}- hmgh and chatter made the jonrney seem less long. But the bride was sweetly silent, and from ont her dark-lmed e}'es Looked a sweet and winning gladness that had kin- ship with the skies : And I thought the l)ridegroom lingered with a tenderness at rest. All unconscious of his ardor, in her presence simply blest. 20 THE FIRST SHEARING. Tlien upon the sliades of evening, as we neared the city's din. O'er the party's merry laughter came a stilhiess creeping in ; It was but tlie hush of niglitfall o'er the wearied frames of men, Coming as a soft 1)enison, and as hush of l)eauty then. And one called for songs of worship, as the train went on its wa}' ; Then the bride's sweet voice was lifted in the hymn of parting day, Thrilling with a wondrous sweetness, swelled her \oice e'en unto me. In those words of holiest yearning, with the "Nearer — " and '' — to thee." Averse by verse the hymn was caroled in that fair girl's happy tone. And I thought 'tw'as ended, surely, only — only just too soon; When, alas! there came a crashing, and a horrid. roaring din. And a plunge and fearful havoc as the fire came pouring in. THE FIRST SHEARING. 2 1 We had met a dread disaster. Very few were saved that day, And the l)ride beside her cliosen in the death sleep silent lay, Nevermore to glad the hearers with the sweetness of her voice, Yet she surely gained life's fulness in the "Nearer" of her choice. Bonnie Ma y- Deal with her gently, O ye censors, now ! By the folded hands and the fair young brow; By the years that have gone, and the days to be When we shall understand and see - — Shall know so much that i)uzzles us here — Well for us now to bear and forbear. THE FIRST S HEAR IX G. Woman's Crown. XoT in her heauty or learning, Not in her p^wer to please, Xiir ni her myriad ehanges, Thdugh the world has a ])lace for these. Xot in the word that is spoken. Or in the deal that is done. The l)eaut}' of life nnhroken. The crown ni her life is won. X^othing that gifts can gi\e her. X"(^ grace of form or heart: Memories that m.ay ontlixe her — Xothing of simplest ])art. Xothing of cultured wisdom. And naught of tra\el wide — 'I he crown of lier life will hnd her. In the glow of her own tiresicle. In the smiles of tlie infant faces That turn to lier own at night. In the grace of all earthly graces — In motherhood's delight. THE FIRST SHEARING. 23 A Bushel of Corn. A BUSHEL of corn, of golden corn, That u]) on the cornstalk grew, From a tin_v blade t(^ a graceful plant. That storm and sunshine knew. A bushel of corn, what will it bring"? For the man wIk) sowed and tended, Forty cents — -'tis the farmer's share. And, of course, it can't be mended. A bushel of corn. For the railroad, then, OiiL' dollar to pay for freight; Four to the manufacturer. To the liquor-vender eight. And what to the luan who drinks, you say 'Tis a foreign word to spell; If 1 told it in English, it would sound Something much like — hell. DcUriuin trcincus! \\'retched wife. Children starved and lost. A bushel of corn, of golden corn. We cannot sum the cost. 24 THE FIRST SHEARING. A bushel of corn; when the cornstalk bent To the kiss of the summer breeze. Was it demon or man that whispered it To turn into fruits like these? A Birthday Wish. January 22, 1903. Let us take old Time by the forelock And hold him fast to-day; '1 here isn't a bit of sense, my dear, For him to go on this way. For you are as young as you ever were. With a youth that cannot go by ; I can read it in your smile, my dear. By the love-light in your eye. And there is no need of wishing A birthday wish to-day, For every blessing is yours, dear, And so there is nothing to say. THE FIRST SHEARING. 25 An Acrostic. To A Lady of Asheville. May blossoms in the month of May, And roses till November, Rich beauties of the fields and woods Yield fulness of September. June, Ijeauties of the garden fair, April, with api)le IjIow ! A'o tongue can tell or pen can write Each blossom fading slow. Late in the fall, when thankful hearts Unison blessed know. Such regal beauties come to view. Kind Nature doth bestow. L' Envoi. Clover blossoms, red and white — ^^d^at matter if the snow is near; So in your heart, about your path. The kindlier deeds of life are here. 26 1'HE FIRST SHEARING. The Boy I Love. A soxG for llie l)i)y 1 l(;\e — G(kI 1)less him. \\ itli e}'es as I)r()\vn as the fawn that strays Thmngii leafy shadows, l)y woodland ways; "^'et without a hint of the startled fear That man has made so familiar there. Fearless and true in their depths so l)right, 0\ertl()\ving" with lo\'e's own light — God love him. A wish for the hoy lloxe^ — God keep him. He may pass through life h}' \arious ways. He may know to-morrows and yesterdays, He ma_\' toil and stri\e for a banhle wain; He may drink to the dregs of loss and pain. He may soar so high that the hosts will tell He was God's own child, he hath conquered well Whatever it be, the high or the low — May heaven forfend and guide and know — God keep him. THE FIRST SHEARING. 27 .\ prayer for the hoy I love — Heaven save him, A heart to love and to trust God gave him. J can read it now in the lii^iit that lies Like a limpid pool in the nnt-lirown eyes; A mind so clear that my heart will qnail When I think of the counsels that mav prevail Till faith to my aid. like a Heaven-sent guest, Flies and settles herself, and I rest. Knowing full well that the hand that gave Can guide and cherish and oiiard and sa\'e. The Better Part. Better the homeliest cot on earth. With a soul that honors its heavenly hirth. Than the grandest palace in all the land. By selfish greed and earth's warring hanned. For a curse lies low' on the fairest spot, AAHiere Ciod and Love and P^eace are not : And a blessing smiles, with n(^ chill disguise, On the home where a soul is akin to the skies. 28 THE FIRST SHEARING. The Ex-Slave. TiiEY turned hini loose, through l)lood and tears, A child in everything but years; One talent his and one alone, For lack of many might atone • — From childh(jod he had learned to work. And never knew the \erb to shirk. They gave him work, at first a dole, Enough the Ixxly and the soul To keep together; slowly then They let him find a place with men. Who toiled and dehed and sweated sore. That they might work and sweat the more. And now a time has come to him. '1 hrough the hard years, fast waxing dim, A time when he must turn for bread. To other hands, or star\e instead. Fie finds the world a dreary ])lace — It always has Ijeen to his race — And yearning for his grave-yard bed. He hath not where to lav his head. THE FIRST SHEARING. 29 Woodland Notes. I PASS througli a vast cathedral, At noon and at evening dim ; 1 hear the early matins. I hst to the vesper hvmn ; And all through the Inisy daytime A spirit of worship Hes O'er me like a henediction Dropped from the starry skies. And once in a while, at noontide, I hear the drowsy hum Of the hees and the birds and the flowers. That ever to me say, "Come ; Come from the heat of the conflict, Come from the jarring strife ; A\'ith us is the dew of morning. With us is the breath of life." Sometimes at the hush of nightfall I enter the woodland still. When a peace beyond my knowledge Lies over vale and hill. 30 THE FIRST SHEARIXG. O weary with earth's old 1)iirdens, O hearts that are seeking- rest. Tired toilers, for one and for all. Here is the l)alni of the blest ! Written for the Montford Mother's Club. A DEAR old lady said the other day, ''^^'rite something of good women."' And I walked On tiptoe for a week, remembering- Good women I had known; then down tij earth And to a mother's clnb. How tine Of all earth's finest things is kindliness; The thonght for other's need. The gentle word Of sweetest cheer; the genial smile that tells Of qnick appreciati(»n ; and the clasp * Of hand to hand. It was my lot To know a sonl whose kindly smile and word Were like the frnitage of the vine, (lis])ensing wide A blessing to be held. Thns may we Cheer and be cheered along life's upward way. THE FIRST SHEARING. 31 Draining the Zuyder Zee. It reads like a fairy story, This draining- the Zuyder Zee — Thirty-six years of hard labor, Reclaiming- it from the sea. Spending- millions of dollars — Millions of tons of stone, jMillions of hands t(^ work it — Made by man alone. The dyke that will force the ocean Back to its ancient place. Keeping it there, 'tween Nature and man, A long-fought, hard-won race. It reads like a fairy story. How the dykes of Holland to-day. Hold the old ocean backward In spite of his icy sway. In spite of the tempests that batter. And of the storms that rise ; And now this wonderful project — Long is the head and wise, 3^ THE FIRST SHEARING. That has planned and summed and counted The cost to its smallest jot — And the returns incoming" — May old age be his lot. And age to be l)lessed with seeing The miglity project done — The battle against the ocean Accomplished, finished, won. Rich o-ardens where now the waters Sweejj in their might and main. Farms and houses and churches All over the fertile plain. The Wise Man. Only the fools will rail at fate. And of their hard luck vastly prate ; The wise man forges slow ahead. All of his purpose left unsaid. THE FIRST SHEARING. 33 Expression. There are no "voiceless singers." All strong souls Must find expression in some human touch, Knowing they are a part of who controls Each passing hour, by loving overmuch. There are no "useless chords" of human life, No broken harps that never tuned a lay. Somewhere amid the turmoil and the strife They have accomplished — justified their stay. The heart that loves can never love in vain ; For, like the lordly oak-tree, it will bend. Strengthened by storm, and using loss and pain, To be a greater blessing in the end. Expression is the counterpart of life. And finds its outlet, as the water runs. By devious ways, with untold beauty rife, A blessing 'neath a myriad summer suns. The bird that never sings must voiceless be; The plant that blooms not sheds a fragrance rare ; One lives by deeds as faithful and as free. The other suffers for its sweetness here. 3 34 THE FIRST SHEARINC. To-day. If you have words of kindness For some weak heart to-day, Gi\'e them, in fullest measure, Expression, while you may. If you have some great object, Some higher height to climb, Keep pegging at it, day by day, Just while you have the time. No matter what you live for. If short or long your stay. The whole is bound, for good or ill. In this one word — to-day. We held the past, but it has gone Beyond our ken, away, And all that we can call our own Is just this small to-day. THE FIRST SHEARING. 35 A Story of the Sea. A WILD Storm raged on the English coast, and a \-esseI struck that day, Out in the offing, where breakers hid, dashed by the foaming spray; And the dread signal of distress boomed over land and sea, While the waves mocked and the winds shrieked aloud in fiendish glee. But anxious watchers on the shore, brave hearts so strong and true. Cried, "Man the lifeboat," then — alas! Alas! what shall we do ? The leader of the lifeboat crew, brave Harry, is away Unto the city, and he was to be at home to-day. But nc\'er mind their leader, they could not wait for him, The ship must go to pieces, the day was growing dim; 36 THE FIRST SHEARING. And through the angry waters the faithful Hfehoat sped, Manned hy her sturdy crew and strong unto that ship ahead. Ah! httle thought the watchers upon that storm- beat shore To see those noble seamen, their friends and kins- men, more; But lo ! the Lord is merciful; and back again they tossed With that ship's crew, save one alone, who must, it seemed, l)e lost. Then Harry rushed into the crowd, and asked why he was left ? And "Man the lifeboat!" shouted he; they thought he was bereft Of all his senses, and refused to make the trip again, While his old mother clung to him with \\-ords of fear and pain. 'A'our father, boy, was lost at sea these many years agone, 'A'our brother Will returneth not; you are my only one;" THE FIRST SHEARING. 37 But Harry shook her gently off, and laughed her fears away, And launched again the lifehoat upon the foaming spray. Ah! little thought the watchers \\\)()n that storm- beat shore, To see their leader hold again, or meet his crew once more. Yet through the mighty tem[)est, the sturdy sailors passed. Unto the fated vessel now breaking up so fast. AVhite faces waited on the shore and eyes were strained in \'ain ; The dashing of the blinding spray came mocking back again, When o'er the noise of waters a voice rose clear and shrill, .\nd Harry's strt)ng voice shouted, 'AVe've got him — Brother Will !" 38 THE FIRST SHEARING. A Requiem. William McKinley. y\YE ! weep, Columbia, o'er thy noble dead ; Wide as the ocean is thy sorrow spread; This man of men who sleeps in death to-day Was Nature's chosen child ; and though away His spirit wings its flight, to sunnier shores, The glory of his birth and life are yours. Yet in thy sorrow indignation burns. That freedom's l)ounty should meet such returns That the foul weed of anarchy should dare To take its root, and l)ud and blossom here ; Bearing such fruit, in discontent and hate, And murd'rous madness that seeks but the great. But for the heart that mourns its mate to-day, In the fair prime of manhood swept away, The gentle woman's heart that stands alone, W^ords have no power to comfort or atone For its great loss; Init he who gives us breath Can soften e'en the bitterness of death. T?IE FIRST SHEARING. 39 Alone she mounieth not, for, far and wide, S\vee]:>s on the wail of mourning-, as a tide At fuH o'ertlowing', every boundary burst; She hath, this comfort — he was hers at first, His country's afterward. And so at last, He shall be hers again, all sorrow passed. S(T bear him homeward, to his place of rest. In the pure dignity he honored best ; And bend, Columbia, thy sun-kissed head In meek submission o'er th' illustrious dead, Remembering- in thy sorrow, God hath niig-ht. All things, in his good time, to flood with light. Mary, Queen of Scots. T KNOW not if thy fate wer,e just, Or if thy sins were so; I only know, as dust to dust, Thou drankest deep of woe : An infant lay upon thy breast, Was cradled in thy arms ; And if 'twas faithless — yet how blest A soul with half thv charms. 40 THE FIRST SHEARING. My Sweetheart. My sweetheart is yoiuii^' and tender, My sweetheart is loyal and true, As a sapling snjjple and slender, With eyes of a nut-brown hue; A\ hen I awake at the dawning'. He kisses away my fears, And all through the busy morning He lightens my ceaseless cares. ^Vhen the shadows of evening lengthen, And the work of the day is done, And I can refresh and strengthen, I turn to my sunny one : He never has failed to cheer me. He never has failed to bless. And I think that the angels are near me, When I bend to his sweet caress. He takes me by many a turning. With smiles in his loving eye, To the land of his tenderest yearning, The wonderful bye and bye : THE FIRST SHEARING. 41 ^^'hat we will have and what we will do, As sure as we are alive, Yon may smile, hut then it is really so, For mv sweetheart is scarcelv five ! Lines to a Shut-in. I THINK of you, dear heart, at morn and night, So patient and so strong, abiding- still In God's great goodness ; and towards the light Turning the soul, the mind, the heart, the will. I think of you, dear soul, with thankful joy ; That God should deign to give a human heart. All that is thine, despite old earth's alloy, The hand of Martha, with meek IMary's part. I think of you, dear heart, thr()Ugh busy hours. When life is flowing over full for me; And thinking, know, amid the thorns and flowers. Life has bestowed a fadeless bloom for thee. THE FIRST SHEARING. The Gospel of Health. 'Tis on me ti> ])i"each a new gospel ^ — Print it in letters of gold, Grave it on e\'ery heart-tablet, A new, and yet 'tis the old; Old as the dawn of creation, \A'hen man was a true son of God; New as the daylight of morning That hlesseth from tree-top to sod. A gospel so glad and so joyous That, were it the whole world's choice. None would have reason to gruml)le. And all of the earth would rejoice: That waits for the sons of mortals. As storm-clouds gather for rain; That rich and poor, the high and the low. If their will is good, may attain. The Gospel of Health. Ah ! listen, It voices in every breeze ; It whispers o'er all creation. It rustles in leafy trees ; THE FIRST SHEARING. 43 You can hear it in every murninr Of all thing-s growing- still. You can take it and blossom and burgeon For your very oun. if you will. 'Tis laughter and joy and gladness, 'Tis heartease and sun and rain, 'Tis peace and comfort and life itself, 'Tis waving of ripening grain. 'Tis the golden star of life's morning, 'Tis the evening's restful glow — Man's old-time heritage of health That wisdom can bestow. Who Knows ? Out of the darkness and night. Out of the storm and the rain. Who knows what a world of light, ]\Iay bloom to the day again ? Out of the sorrow and care ; Out of the wearying strife. Here or there or otherwhere — Who knows what may come to a life? 44 THE FIRST SHEARING. The Cemetery, TnERp:'s a city l)ni]t l)y the river's flow. Whose streets no traffic or l)arter know; x\ beautiful city of \ale and hill That is ah\a}'s calm, and peaceful, and still : Where the hours are days and the days are years Apart from all sorrow, and loss, and tears. Each home has a resident, silent too, AVhose record was written long ago; And no\v there is nothing to mar their rest In the kindly care of dame Nature's breast; Apart from all needless doubt and strife They ha\e laid down the burden that we call life. There is nothing to make the strong heart sad; There is much to be thankful for and glad; For the many souls who have done life's best, Are laid for a season in peaceful rest; And the little graves of the children there Tell but of the Gardener's loving care. THE FIRST SHEARING. 45 'Tis a gTowing city, for scarcely a day Rut a new inhabitant comes its way; W'itli stately silence and solemn tread They come to their own, the quiet dead, Sure of a home in its peaceful rest, Where naught of ill dare the ways molest. And what do \Ae need, O mortal, vain, xA.fter the worry, the loss, the pain. But the tender care of the Gardener there. In the quiet vales of the otherwhere; Content and happy to he at rest. As a child asleep on its mother's breast? Bill Nye's Neglected Grav^e. (A False Report,) How he would joke! could he l)ut know it now This man who made us laugh, when other men Might ha\'e been giad to hitle their sad disease, And softly die. Not so our merry Bill. I h(^ld it true. That he wlm l)ring"s a smile is greater than The king u[)nn his throne; deserving well A monument indeed. 46 THE FIRST SHEARING. The Cemetery at Night. Here is no terror. O'er the placid graves The mild moon sheds a soft, benignant glow, Xight after night — in wordless beauty laves The seeds of life that lie so still below. Some day I, too, may t know your name or face; Thc\' l)otli are strange to me; And far apart onr li\es must Ije, As "slii])s that pass at sea;'' But when the (hiy is fahing (hm Across my window pane. And natin'e croons a ^■csper hymn By breeze, or wind, or rain; Adown the hill there comes to me A streak of golden liglit, From your low casement riglitl)' set, ]\Iy e^•ery e^•e's delight; It cheers me when I'm dreary, It lifts me when I'm sad. And when my heart is weary It makes me well-nigh glad. If yon should pass away from here. Or one day journey far. And close the house, I cannot tell .How I should miss my star; THE FIRST SHEARING. 53 A star of comfort, meaning' So much of cheer to me, So much of generous seeming, \\'liate"er it is to tliee. To a Sick Friend. God's mercy on your gentle heart, /\nd on your soul-ht eyes, Tlie liojie and strength that never part. This side the arching" skies; 1 he hlest assurance day by day That grace t(^ you is given, Enoug"h to keej) you every way, Abfnit tlie courts of heaven. There is a vale, we know it well. That borders on the tomb. And yet to us who safely dwell. It has no breath of gloom ; For bye and bye a day shall come When life shall soar away. And heart and \'oice no more be dumb In God's most blessed dav. 54 THE FIRST SHEARING. Hope. Suggested by thk Interior of Bii.tmore Church. (All Soul's.) ^^'TIAT care I for time or space? I'm an atom in life".s race; Stirred hy e\ery lireeze that l)lo\\s, Left alnne on trodden snows; I'nlsino- low and Ijcating- hioii, Ever 'tween the earth and sky. W'liat care I for space or time, Summer's sun or winter's rime? Thino's that come and thint^s that o-o, Joy and sachiess. smiles and woe; Song or sigh, 'tis all the same — Here long" whiles hefore I came. What care 1 for time or s])ace? Once again 1 see life's face Opening" to a lietter da}' ; Trusting ever, come what may; Knowing always, hye and hve. Dawns a clear, unclouded skv. THE FIRST SHEARING. 55 A Reminder. Do you remember the good old times, And the trestle we crossed at nio-ht, When the preacher })layed the Chaperon And kept ns both in sight? He tehs me now 'twas the happiest time, With a smile on his gentle face, But I think, my dear, in those halcyon days, \\ e led him a merry chase. Can yon call to mind the mighty \Yth That he saved von from one nig-ht, And the long, long walks on the highway, \\\\\\ the meetin' house in sig-ht? When the little Pine carried the lantern. Though the moon was shining bright. And the wayside stumps were ghostly things, And our hearts were — oh ! so light ! I think sometimes he was truly shocked Though he carried it off so well. And even now in these later days He will not ever tell. -C) THE FIRST SHEARING. Why, no! His heart is as true to-day As it was when we were young, i\.nd he passed with us on the golden way The l)oys and girls among! Answer to " Dawn in Russia. What hoots religious freedom To pe{)[)le who can slay. And mutilate and desecrate, As was done yesterday? Who says the chains are filed apart When deeds like these can be, When Russia plays a demon's part Beside a southern sea ? \Vhy tell the scattered races, To earth's remotest bound. A rest amongst earth's places The Muscovite has found? Why blazon out the deadly shame When rulers still deny. In face of wrongs, too ill to name. The victim's piteous cry? THE FIRST SHEARING. 57 At Rest. UxDF.R the pines, in the shade, at rest, Lies the strong heart that we call our own: Long- was the way and hard the quest, i'nt we shall know as we are known. In the fair land that seems far away, Tho' really 'tis near — at our very side — Long has he trodden the hlessed way. Where peace and love nnist ever al)ide. It seemed not to him a foreign shore When he slipped away from our tightened hold There was one who had shortly gone before Awaiting him there in those courts of gold. The stream that he crossed was narrow and still, No turbulent foe was there to hide. With suspicion of loss or fear of ill, The beauties that lay on the other side. We trusted him then, and we leave him now To the loving care of a Saviour strong, The true, brave heart that could never l)ow To aught of deceit or guile or wrong. THE FIRST SHEARING. Home. The poorest home can a palace be If tlie kingdom of love is there; It matters not what the world may see — Be the outside ne\-er so drear, If within there dwelleth a loving heart. A mind attuned to its sphere, A soul that dwells not in joy apart. But sheddeth its radiance there. Costly treasures that gold can buy. Bric-a-brac rich and rare. Ne'er charm the heart or delight the eye As a l)aby's well-worn chair; Lovely paintings on frescoed walls, The gems of art and the graces, Fall far behind \\ hat never palls — The sunshine of children's faces. Beauty and wealth may envy now The woman who stays at home. With the crown of love on her gentle brow Above life's rush and gloom; THE FIRST SHEARING. 59 Aye! talent itself may bow to her Who sits on a household's throne, In her bosom content and peace astir — The best of the world her own. A Man and His Mother. Lincoln. He stood at the head of a nation ; He was strong, he was true, he was brave; And they said he had come at a crisis. His people to honor and save; But few of them looked behind it, Xor do to this later day. To the woman that mothered and gave him His wonderful power to stay — To stand in the face of conflict. Of ills that thundered o'er him. To hold and to trust, to bear and to strive — As his mother had before him. 6o '^"^^^ FIRST SIIEARIXG. The Old Folks' Christmas. The old folks live in the country, On a farm so hilly and ])are, 'Tis a wonder to me how they ever raised Such strapi)ing young' men there; .And one was l)orn at the Christmas-tide, One in the sprins4-time fair, One in the days of harvest moon. And one with the dyiui;- year. They plowed and harrowed and hoed and g-ruhhed Picked herries and did the chores, .\nd li\'ed the life of the farmer's hoy \n all the glad outdoors. But the farm grew small to their eager eyes, i\nd the hills were a harrier passed. So, one hy one, till the}' all were gone, ^dley left the home at last. Two in the city's husy stream ,\re men of the \\-orld to-dav; One's a conductor on a ti"ain. .\nd one is a soldier gay; THE FIRST SHEARING. 6 1 But the old folks sit by the fireside, \Miere the logs are burning- bright, .\nd wish, with their thoughts unspoken. That the boys were home to-night. The turkey is stuffed to bursting, That mother raised with care, And guarded with jealous silence Through all the busy year ; The chicken pie is a kn'ely brown. And pum])kin pies are a sight; And they wonder with thoughts unspoken, 'A\'ill the Ijoys be in to-night?" One has a sweetheart young and fair, One is too busy to-day, One is away with Uncle Sam, And one — there is nothing to say — But the table is set, for each a place. And the logs are Ijurning bright. And the old folks listen with eager face, "Will the boys be home to-night?" 62 THE FIRST SHEARING. John O'Learv, Hero. NEV'iiR yet was sung Ijy poet greater love than this you tell ; Never sped a braver spirit on the land or ocean swell. Through the fate l)y lo\'e elected that O'Leary's life befell. 'Twas that day of dread disaster, June the fifth, in ninety-two. Wdien the fire and flood were raging and the air was filled with woe — All the horror of twin demons madly raging to and fro. Many lives in Oil Creek Citv, and the villages close by, AA'ere gi\en up at call of dut}' when mi human help was nigh : Many more could only struggle in a vain attempt, and die. THE FIRST SHEARING. 63 There was flaming flood of water, there was raging- fire as well, And it has been said by witness that the place was like to hell. In its weight of awful suffering, horrible to hear and tell. John O'Leary's widowed mother, helpless in her chamber lay, AA'orn and white-haired, sick and feeble, as she had l)een many a day, AA'hen the torrent of destruction met the town upon its way. John that fated Sabl^ath morning quietly at home had stayed. Talking to his mother doubtless of a certain sweet- faced maid, AAdio another week would greet him, in her bridal robes arrayed. When the raging' flood descended vainh^ had he tried to bear To a place of greater safety that worn form he held so dear, Then he hastened to the doorway for the aid that was not there. 64 THE FIRST SHEARING. To tlie hills one moment looked he, where, above the rising din, Safety, if he ventured singiy, h.e might surely hope to win, For one moment, then he turned to the woman lone within. "Mother," said he, "we must perish, by the fire or by the flood, I ha\e called in vain f(jr succor, mayl)e none have understood ; We can meet the end together; death is swift, and God is good." Looked she on him proudly, fondly, with no thought of selfish fear, "Son, the way is open for you, go at once and leave me here. Think of her who's waiting for you — how she loves you — hasten, dear." Knelt he softly by the bedside, as a child kneels down to pray. With the mother-love beside him that he was to crown that day. And a look on his young face showing his resolve to stav. THE FIRST SHEARING. 65 Thus they found thcni wlien the sunshine beamed upon another day, Slackened, charred l)eyond remembrance, one beside the other hiy, W here he knelt with hands uphfted, even as they passed away. Love is strong to men and maidens — mother-love is stronger still; By its power to give and suffer — - all its beauty to fulfill. But this love of John O'Leary savors of divinest will. Whittet's Sonnets.' It is as if a soul had passed within The holiest of holies, bearing forth The wine of life for thirsty souls without; As wine is given in cups, — these sonnets rare Fulfill the need of many a wayworn heart. 66 'Z"^^^' FIRST SHEARING. Taxing the Bachelors. Tax them, dear heroes, one and ah, Who sh_\- from the married state, But while \n\\ are snaring- the wary hird l)e sure you capture the mate! For never a Jack hut has liis Jih, \A'hatever the skeptics say ; And once in a w hile tliere may he a wiH With nex'er the g-host of a \\ay! Tax them — hy all means — one and all. Who shy from our state to-day. With another tax and a big one, too, On the fair maidens gay. \\\m) fill the places of backward men. In gown and tie and curl — Jt is reall}- the same, for who is to blame But this Ijrand new bachelor eirl? THE FIRST SHEARING. ^y Funeral ot Qjieen Victoria. February 2, 1901. Bring forth ! Iiring forth ! the saintly Queen, And, guards, kee^) watch above her, That to the worUl it may be seen How much her people love her; Fire a salute — no guns be mute — This sovereign's meed of honor, Is human love, all ken above, A cloth of gold upon her. The stately ship that bears her on. Beyond all human waking. The silent fleets that wait upon The solemn undertaking : The mighty crowds in dark array That silently uncover, Attest each footstep of the way, How' much her people love her. The naval pomp and grand display. And military splendor. 68 THE FIRST SHEARING. The kings and princes of the day, Who solemnly attend her; I'lie serried ranks of sokhers trne, 1diat mutely hend ahove her. Civilians, nobles, "boys in blue," How much her people love her! "Tis not the (_)neen alone we mourn. For \'ain is sovereign splendor; Far greater t(T the grave is borne. The woman pure and tender; A mother-heart that through long years, Her people's weal hath cherished. Through storms and conflicts, hopes and fears, With her forever perished. THE FIRST SHEARING. 69 Twain's Christendom. [The Red Cross Society held a chain of watch-meetings throughout the country, and greetings from prominent people were asked for, to be read on these occasions. This is what Mark Twain wrote : "I bring you the stately matron named Christendom, returning bedraggled, besmirched and dishon- ored from pirate raid in Kiao-Chow, ^Manchuria. South Africa and the Philippines, with her soul full of meanness, her pocket full of boodle and her mouth full of pious hypocri- sies. Give her soap and a towel, but hide thelooking-glass. — From The Citi::cn.] A STATELY matron, see her come, To greet the century new. Her garments white in sorry pHght, All stained with crimson hue; Her sandals gold that shone of old. Now fonl A\ith many a smear. From foot to crown, all up and down Besprinkled here and there. AA'hat ails that hrow, so regal once. So pure and chaste of yore? The matted ringlets now are clogged Alas! with human gore, THE FIRST SHEARING. The hands, so free to .q'ive and serve, Are liardened now with gold; The face, once fair, an angel there Could scarcely g'ood behold. Where has she been, the stately (|ueen, Since love hrst gaxe her birth? Afar and near, with i)it}-ing ear. To Corners of the earth; And just of late — oh! shameless fate I Her g"arnients in the dust The saint 1\- (jneen with regal mien Has stooped to gold and Inst. For power and place a goodly race She runs with other kings. Tramples to earth with savage mirth A score of better things. Come! Give her ])lace! This Christendom The Sa\ionr never knew; \\'ith all her stain, she may again Her ])nrity renew. THE FIRST SHEARING. 71 The Building of Zion. W'f. read in tlie P)il)le story Of Solonion's temple fair, Ikiilt to Jehovah's glory — No sound of the hammer there; But far from the place of building- Each beautiful piece was wrought. The stone, and the wood, and the gildin^. And then to the temple brouglit. I'^'om the splendor of early morning The echoless work went on. Till twilight's lengthened warning- Told that the day was gone ; Slowl}' and surely the temple grew Into its beautiful whole, And none of its sacred precincts knew The sound of the workman's tool. And now in the land of peace untold A city's walls appear, Grander than Solomon's fane of old — Beyond all knowledge fair: 72 THE FIRST SHEARING. They are building- the houses of poHshed stone. Of beaten gold the ways, And all through the width of its wondrous zone Sparkle the jewel's rays. Somewhere in the heart of the world below. In the midst of its ceaseless din. Surrounded by wickedness and woe. By suffering and by sin. Beautiful stones are being prepared. With patient labor and skill. No toil is grudged and no pain is spared For the niche that they have to fill. There, in the hospital's sunny ward. The couch of pain upon, Where labor and skill again are stored. The silent work goes on ; Beautiful rubies are brought to view. And pearls that are chaste and fair. By keenest pain that the worker knew, By days and nights of care. Far out in the wilds of heathen lands Low is the timber laid, THE FIRST SHEARING. 73 By workers wlio toil with patient hands And faith that is undismayed: Somewhere in the C(nnitry's stihest hfe, By Nature's sheeny fold, Where earth seems free of care and strife, They are working the beaten gold. And ever and always, day by day, The beautiful work goes on ; Tlie builder moveth the blocks away That his seal is set upon : Jewels and gold, iron and stone, Meet for the City Fair — Wonderful truth — each one alone The gem of his soul must prepare. 74 THE FIRST SHEARING. The Men of Caister. [An incident of the sea that occurred November 14, 1901, off the coast of Norfolk. England. At the news of this disaster, England contributed twelve thousand five hundred pounds for the widows and orphans, and the nine brave men rest in one grave by the village church, where a beautiful memorial window has been placed.] Snl'G in tlieir beds the}' lay that night, l^rave men. one and ah ; T\vel\'e strong men of tlie hfe-l)nat crew, ready at (Uit}-'s cah, To "np and awa}'" if need l)e. to 1)reast the wind and the ^^■a\■e. In daring- effort, though futile, the haples^'. lost to save. Fair glows the snnshine On Caister beach to-da}'. \\ hile the cruel ocean Ripples in its play. Grim and silent and ominous hangeth the warning bell, Many a time it has startled the hamlet fair with its knell, THE FIRST SHEARING. 75 Many a time it has clashed, over the waters wide, Calling men to their places, whatever may hetide. Turn in your beds. () seamen! what meaneth the wife's low prayer? The children are sleeping soundly — who heedeth the mother's fear? I^ist. (th! list to the temi)est and the dash of the treacherous wave ; God pity the mariner out to-night — pity, and hear. and save. Brightly glows the sunshine On Caister beach at morn. Alas! what brings the ocean, Rudely, swiftly l)orne? Did ye not hear it, mother — the l)ell and the boom- ing gun ? Another ship on the Berber sands her last long course has run ; Hasten, oh! hasten, seamen, hurrying down to the beach ; Maybe the Lord will have mercy — hark to the tempest's screech ! 76 THE FIRST SHEARING. "Pull again, my hearties ! We must launch her safely now'' ■ — • The men are soaked by the freezing spray, tho' wet with sweat the brow ; Two long hours a-battling with the wind and the wave that night. Ere the boat was out on the water, with her oars and crew all right. Yet brightly glows the sunshine On Caister beach to-day. While ship and wave and fishing boat Pass gaily on their way. "A long pull and a strong pull! Ye! ho! for the heaving sea ! "Steady, my lads," and ''steady — the light on the doomed ship see." At length they reached the vessel; no living soul was there — Some other hands had saved them — so home, for the way is clear. A long pull and a strong pull. O anxious hearts ashore. Bitter the sting of the blinding spray — ye cannot see them more. THE FIRST SHEARING. yy Never a cry o'er the water ! — a wave and the boat was gone — 1 ler keel to tlic lashing tempest — -the twelve strong men upon. Dive if ye can, O seamen, out from your well kn(jwn tomb, Fighting for life in the water, breasting the inky gloom ; Three out of twelve are landed; drag them in from the brine — Look out ! look out. O mothers — mothers and wives — for the nine ! Sparkles clear the ocean O'er Caister beach to-day. One wide grave must hold them Till the judgment day. 78 THE FIRST SHEARING. What Matters? What matters all this pomp and pride, These gX)rgeoiis pageants and display? Beside the man who nobly died 'Tis Init the mist of yesterda}'. One li\es ni)()n the hearts of men In golden letters graven deep. The other sinks beyond earth's ken Into oblivion's fitting sleep. The wealth that dares to flannt its shame. And stir its \n[s of reeking Inst, Beside the awfnl doom of flame. Before the nation's honored dnst. Shall meet at length its jnst reward — Has met it in the ages past, \\'hen Gallic mob and heathen horde Spread desolation wide and wist. The man who sweats to earn his bread. And eats it with a thankful heart. Though coarse of garb and rough of tread, Playeth still a nobler part THE FIRST SHEARING. Tlian he who milhons may control, Vet ne^•e^ sto()j)e(l to earn a cent, With carnal ])leasure for his i^oal. Solely on sin and folly hent. The woman who, with modest eye, And heart attnned to purest worth, Tho' be her station low or high. Of sovereign or of peasant birth, W'eareth a crown gold cannot buy, Neither can rank bestow, Whose beauty cannot fade or die, Nor time nor change can know. God's mercy on the land that holds A million names of wealth and pride. Heedless of him who builds and moulds, Whom men have named "The Crucified. Before His ])ity bending low. Let saint and sinner humbly prav. Ere rich and poor alike shall know The doom of nations passed away. 79 8o THE FIRST SHEARING. The Sweetest rhing on Earth, He stays with us. He made his home With us some time ago; We know not if our ways are best For him, and yet we do — Or try to, all that in us lies, To ease the untried way That his small feet must travel o'er, If he should with us stay. His ways are not like ours. He seems A being from above, So full of life and joy is he. Of happiness and love. And we ? — We sometimes pause to play A merry game with him, Until we stop and run away — Our eyes grown strangely dim. He cannot talk. He says some things We fail to understand; They may be memories from the shores Of some far better land. THE FIRST SHEARING. gl They soiiiul so sweet ! — we often list The notes that cunie and go, Like whisperings of a l)ir(l at play, Warl)ling to and fro. He may not stay so very long. His home is in the skies. And yet, when lie is sound asleep, And the fair hody lies As if the angel Death were near To hear the child away, \Vith earnest hearts and thankful soul. We bend our knees and pray; Not for his life: 'tis his, to keep As God hath to him given, But for all strength and patience that Our ways may tend to heaven ; And when we see the roguish smile He greets us with at morn. We feel as if the world to us Were very like new born. And all day long that radiant joy Abideth with us still, 82 THE FIRST SHEARING. That God has thong-ht so much of us This rare thing to fulfill ; So wonder you our cup is full Unto the very brim, And, "sweetest thing on earth," we pledge Our lives to work for him. Encouragement. Be strong, faint heart: for strength is born of trouble ; And all these rocks and pitfalls by the way, And stony hillsides, will repay thee double. In strength and patience, at a future day. Be strong, faint heart : nor falter at the dim And dark recesses that lie right ahead : Bank on thy courage. Ere the vesper hymn Thou shalt acknowledge 'twas divinely led. Be strong, faint heart. What though the world apart Holds thee a stranger and an alien here ! Ere long thou shalt stand surely heart to heart ^Vith kindred souls who hold thv valor dear. ■THE FIRST SHEARING. g. To Whom it may Concern. Mave (lone, have done! Enough of care and worry ! Enough of all this striving after self; More than enough of all this stir and hurry, Of ceaseless reaching after place and pelf. Let us go back, with step serene and stately, Unto the guerdons our forefathers culled — That we have lost our hold of, somehow, lately. By stress of living or by care annulled. Let us take time for all the tender graces That glow with benison in holy writ, And oftener turn our feet to sacred places. Where priest and prophet in their wisdom sit. \\q shall gain more of what life has to give us, If we can pause and listen by the way. To all the voices by us that outlive us — So much, to souls attuned, they have to say. 84 THE FIRST SHEARING. Let us remenil)er, "ere the past can blij^iit us, With all its Intterness of stern array. That there arc hcauties l>'ing closely l)y us. Alimi;- the cnnnnun pathway of to-day. What is more fi'nilfui than a friendshi]) tried, And tested till it stands apart from all — Unto no time or distance e\er tied — That nex'cr can dishearten, trifle, pall? \Vhat is more heautiful than lo\e so tender Of mother and of child, father and st)n; And the rare reverence that love can render. Ere the great change that draws to ex'ery one' There is a Friendship that surpasses life. Each heart can take unto itself that will; That li\-es above our petty cares and strife, And all the soul's deep yearning can fulfill. THE FIRST SHEARING. 85 Lenten Verse. When eventide is stealing down O'er country-side and l)nsy town; When daylight lingers in the west, With sky in sunset raiment drest, O gentle Saviour, bending low. The frailties <)f thy In'others know. As thou didst wear in days gone by, The form of man 'neath Judea's sky, Didst pass along life's dusty road. Burdened with more than mortal load, Didst toil and suffer, needing rest, Footsore and weary and oppressed. As thou didst bear the sins of all. And drink the cup of l)itterest gall; Didst tread the awful gulf alone. No light e'en from thy Father's throne. Thy human life a ransom given For every sinner under heaven. 86 THE FIRST SHEARING. Thus, Saviour, at the close of day, When sins and fraiUies on us lay, \W bring- our burden great to thee, Belie\"ing thou canst set us free; And pleading through thy wondrous love. A portion of thy peace above. Words. Sometimes I wonder if the tongues that wound, With words as cruel as a surgeon's knife, Could only taste the bitterness they give. How sweeter far would be our daily life. \\^)rds are such little things! and yet they tend To make or mar the joy of every day; And somewhere, it is said, towards the end We shall be iustit'ied <»r damned ]^\ what we sav ! THE FIRST SHEARING. 87 To an Old Lady. What have you done in all your life behind you, That thus you should be slighted every day? When all the scanty links that here must bind yuu, Are slipping, and have slipped so swift away? You are so like a child, yet more than child, With adolescence of the years to be, And eyes that look so way-worn and so mild — My heart goes out to dear ones such as thee. For I shall come, if God will honor me With length of years to learn my lesson in. Unto thy stage of beauty, passing free From much of earth's old raiment, misnamed sin. And I shall learn, as thou hast learnt so well. The great life lesson that so few can get. Of the diviner being as we dwell Above our losses and our care and fret : 88 THE FIRST SHEARING. That g"i\es a wondrous l)eauty in tlie light, Shining' frdni faded eyes so soft to-day, Crowning" as with a sun-crown burnished l)rig"ht. Those liours tliat ])ass so swiftly now away. It is the halo of a life well spent. Of ]~)ra}-er and praise and good deeds softly done A beaut}- fi-om the coming day dawn, lent Just for a season, of the life begun. Not Death. This is not death! — this sleep that fell tu-day, Sweei)ing all traces of earth's mar away: Stilling the weary heart, the restless brain. That beat and throbl)ed so long" in one refrain; Closing the tired e}es, easing the frame. Call it not Death! Jt is too harsh a name. But rather Sleep — sleep for the raiment here. And for the deathless soul new birth (/er there — ddiere, where the colors brighten of the day. And a faint streak of dawning comes this way rilR FIRST SHll.lRING. 89 Patience and Strength. Let us lia\-e i)atience for the little feet That are so small, they falter every day; (3ften our own will stumhle, and we fail To kee[) at times the straight and narrow way. And as the tiny hands that strixe so much To serve us, in their stri\'ing' oft undo, It may he that the I'^ather of us all Finds our liest efforts futile as we go. Let us have patience for the little hearts That love so much; their loving makes them mar The blessings that they bring ! Would we were free From guile aforethought, even as they are. .And inv the minds that open as, at morn, A bud will open to the Ijeauteous light; Knowing as little of the day before. And seeing but the glad earth smili'ng bright. 90 THE FIRST SHEARING. And strength we need to guide and guard and hold, These priceless jewels to our keeping given; Where shall we find it? On our knees alone, Just for the asking, a good gift from heaven. Not strength of mind or heart or soul alone. But strength of body — a pure will enshrined In a garb free from every earthly ill — Vigor fourfold, most happily combined. The Birds. The birds were man's first neighbors. I have stood At earliest dawning in a quiet wood. And listened with a glad and rapt surprise Unto an anthem that awoke the skies. At first a twittering, wondrous faint and sweet. As if each voice feared almost to rejieat The mek)dy so low; and then again. Until the air pulsated with the strain. THE FIRST SHEARING. 91 Toleration. To Jas. E. Norton, Esq. I LIKE this toleration, This word of meaning vast; 'Twill hold its own and flourish When other words have passed; It means so much of kindness To human kith and kin, So much of generous blindness, Where others see hnt sin. The smoothing of hard places Where feet are fain to fall ; The polishing of graces Where grime lies over all. The sifting of the finer dust Of human thought and deed. The gentle "may" in place of "must The thnught for other's need. God grant us in his bounty A sinecure of this. To ease the old earth's burden. To speed the day of bliss; 92 Tim FIRST SHIi.lRIXG. To teach the coming- races, As kingdoms rise and fall. That grander than earth's places Lo\e reiiiiietli o\er all. A Lost Love. AIax monrns a1)o\e tlie mighty dead, And woman, o'er the hier. With hitter sighs and l)en(led head Sheddeth tlie scalding tear; lUit who shall tell when angels weej). What cruel grief must flow I'^rom woman's l)reast and man's strong lieart. When loxe is dead below? Oh! ye to whom on earth is given A friendship strong and true. Remember oft that under heaven The priceless comes to you: How dread the day must be when love, Awhile by angels fanned. Must drtip apart, a broken thing. Despised, and barred, and l)anned. THE FIRST SHEARING. q. Lines on the Receipt of a Nurse's Photograph. A STRONG sweet face of womanhood mature, With eyes downcast to match the modest mien. And hair surmounted Ijy the neatest cap That e\'er tried to Iiide its glossy sheen. A snow-wliitc kercliief. meeting at the l)reast, An apron white, and wide from side to hem, A slender form in simple raiment drest, ' And that small cap a sovereign's diadem! A strong and supple, yet a slender hand. Well trained in all a nurse's tender skill ; With feet that lightly hasten at command, And when (juiescent can be wholly still. A heart compassionate for others' pain. Vet holds emotion as an afterthought ; i\nd labors not alone for selfish gain ; A mind well poised and Imt in part self-taught. 94 THE FIRST SHEARING. A happy soul that has not dipt its wings To grovel in the clinging sands of earth ; But while in duty wrapped in mundane things, Gilds them ^\■ith glamor of its glorious l)irth. A white Da y- A DAY on which no conscious sin Has set its withering blight, Nor foe without, nor strife within. From dawning until night : A day with honest lalxjr filled. And time to rest, or turn From grave to gay; and, if so willed Some lesson rare to learn. A chance to lift a weary heart. Where sin and sorrow meet. To move the tangles wide apart About some little feet ; To lay a salve of kindness on A wound that else were sore: To love. and. loving, smile upon The dear ones so much more. THE FIRST SHEARING. 95 A New Country. I AM coming to my kingxlom, Step by step, and every day; Such a g-Iad and glorious country, Brightening all the uphill way : Every untold deed of kindness. Every word of meaning fair. E\-ery thought of holy beautv. Brings me nearer and more near You are coming to your kingdom — Such a land of pure delight, That you wake and think about it, In the wee sma' hours of night ; Such a country, pure and healthy. Where the golden moments flow, And the soul has full control Of our happiness below. She is coming to her kingdom. By the swift and gentle tread, By the touch so softly helpful. By the speech so oft unsaid. 96 THE FIRST SHEARING. \\'