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Page 1:  · To the unquiet heart and brain A use in measured language lies, The sa d mechanic exercise Like dull narcotics lulling pain. The solace of …
Page 2:  · To the unquiet heart and brain A use in measured language lies, The sa d mechanic exercise Like dull narcotics lulling pain. The solace of …

AUTUMN LEAVES

I

GATHERED FOR A FEW FRIENDS.

BY

L . M . M O R E H EAD .

OCT 1 3 883W

NEW YORK

A N S O N D . F . RA N D O L P H C O M P A N Y ,

900 BROADWAY , COR . 20th STREET .

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COPYRIGHT ,1 88 3 , BY

ANSON D . F . RANDOLPH COM PANY .

YORK

EDWARD O . JENK INS ROBERT RUTTER,

P rin ter a nd S iereofy/Ser ,Binder ,

20 N orthWilliam St . 1 1 6 and 1 1 8 Eas t 1 4th S treet .

Page 4:  · To the unquiet heart and brain A use in measured language lies, The sa d mechanic exercise Like dull narcotics lulling pain. The solace of …

To the u nqu i e t heart and brain

A u se i n measu red language l i e s,

The sad mechan i c exerc i s e

Like du l l narcot i cs l u l l i ng pai n .

The so lace of many a weary t ime,

The past ime of many a lonely hou r,

Like th e cadence of be l l s i n the i r m u s i cal ch ime,

Like the gatheri ng o f many a ways id e flower,

Like the gush of affect io n when o l d fri ends meet,

The wri t i ng of th i s has been mou rnfu l,tho ’ swee t

Oh book guard thy sec re ts,fo r many the re Iie

Close h id from the gaze of the cu riou s eye .

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C O NT E N T S

MY INSP IRAT ION,

“WHY ,

To E Nov. 8 , 1 866 ,

To B“

Nov. 8 , 1 867 ,

IN M EMOR IAM—OUR SOLD I ER BOY , R .

ALONE !THROUGH SUFFER ING ,

TRANSPLANTED,

THE CLOSE OF A BEAUT I FUL OLD AGE,

OUR LOST CH IEF ,DAV ID TOD ,

THE OPEN GATE ,TH ERE ,

BACK AGAIN ,

NOT YET ,

AT-ONE-MENT ,

THOU KNOWEST BEST ,

SOME DAY,

REST AFTER GREAT ANXI ETY ,

THE OTH ER LI FE ,SLEEP ING GERMS ,SORROW MAY EN DURE FOR A N IGHT , BUTCOMETH IN TH E MORN ING ,

WHO KNOWS !“ TEARS , (NOT) ID LE TEARS,RETROSPECTION ,

]M P LORA,

BEAUTIFUL N IGHT ,

To-MoRRow ,

ONLY A WORKER ,

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A SUM IN CANCELLAT ION ,

A FAREWELL TO SCHOOL-DAYS,

—SEA CHANGES ,A GARNERED SH EAF ,BROWN STUDIES FOR NOVEMBER ’

S EASEL ,AN OCTOBER P ICT URE ,WA IT ING ,

DOWN THE R IVER ,REMEMBERED ,

YET FORGOTTEN,

To A YOUNG FR I END ,

To A FR I END ON HER WEDD ING DAY ,

TW I LIGHT VO ICES ,THE CONFESS IONAL ,

NAME WRITTEN IN WATER ,

A CL I MB,

LAST HOURS OF DAV ID LIV INGSTONEAMER ICA TO PRU SS IA z—GREET ING ,

ONLY A WOMAN , WOMANLY ,

THE TEMPTAT ION !LI STENM I SS ION WORK FOR YOU A ND FOR ME ,

JENN I E’

S TROUSSEAU ,

A REC I PE ,To

“ TH E STAR-SPANGLED BAN NER ,

A NAT ION ’

S B IRTHDAY,

AN ODE—FOR DECORAT ION DAY ,

BR ING FLOWERS ,ON E F LOWER FOR “OUR SOLD I ERS ’ GRAVES ,ON THE BALL G I VEN AT TH E

“ WH IT E HOU SE ,

FEB. 5 , 1862 ,

Page 8:  · To the unquiet heart and brain A use in measured language lies, The sa d mechanic exercise Like dull narcotics lulling pain. The solace of …
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M Y IN S P IR A T IO N .

MARCH 6,1 8 7 2 .

Twas ‘Mother ’ in my triumph hour,

And ‘Mother ’ in my t ime of tears .”O

O wi sh for fame—no V i s i on b righ t,

No love romance— no hero kn ight,

Insp i red th i s rhym i ng pen to wri t e .

On ly a “ l i t t l e lady fai r,

With earnes t eyes and s i lvered hai r,

Cheerfu l,yet worn wi th years of care

She w as not beaut i fu l nor—

young

To coax or prai s e w i th flatter i ng tongue

She on ly l oved th e l ays I su ng .

A l i t t l e woman fi rm and tru e,

Whose counse l fe l l l i k e gen tl e d ew,

So frai l,and yet so b rave to do .

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IVY INSPIRA TION.

She s canned my h eart wi th l ov i ng care,

Saw where l i fe ’ s s to rms had swept i t bare

Of hope s that promi sed once so fai r !

Of qu i ck percep t i on to d i s cern,

She fe l t the s carce awakened germ

M igh t to a gratefu l so lace tu rn .

Moth er,on th i s

,thy natal day

,

Th!r grave i s wh i t e an d far away

,

Yet on the s now th i s flowerI l ay

As o ’ er thy ch i l d thou b endest l ow,

Who dares to say thou cans t no t know

That s t i l l fo r thee my numbers flow .

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WHY .

To E NOVEMBER 8,1 8 7 2 .

SO many worlds,so much to do

,

SO l i tt le done,such things to be

,

How know Iwhat had need o f thee,

For thou wert strong as thou wert true .

NOBLE l i fe that can no t d i e,

A tru e pu re p resen ce ever n igh

A hope that b l e ss es—th i s is whyWe al l remember thee .

Not fo r thy growi ng manhood’ s grace

Ju s t shadowi ng o ’e r thy you th fu l face,

Whose beau ty penc i l n e ’ er cou l d t race,

DO I remember th ee .

Not for th in e eye of earn es t b lu e,

Tel l i ng of pu rpos e fi rm and true,

Tender, yet b rave to dare or doFor honor or fo r m e .

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“lVH Y.

’Ti s not that others are not fa i r,

Nor that Iwant for fri ends or care

N or that my heart n o l ove can share

Wi th l ove for thee .

For l i fe ha th t i e s ye t pu re and sweet,

And fri ends i t glad s my heart to greef,Whi l e t im e y et t read s w i th no i se l e s s fee t

Toward heaven and th ee .

The worl d i s beau t i fu l,I know

,

Wi th su n l i t val e s and peak s of s now

Where s tate ly rivers r i s e and flow

On to the s ea .

Iwelcome each retu rn i ng Spri ng,

I know th e weal th the summers bring,

Whi l e al l its beau ty—each fai r th i ngTel l s me of th ee .

For knowing th ee men seemed more tru e,

With lovi ng th ee,l ove pu rer grew

Wh i l e fal te ri ng fa i th fre sh cou rage drew

Thus I remember th ee .

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TO E NOV . 8,1 866 .

Death has madeH is darkness beaut i ful wi th the

HOU ’

LT ne ’er grow O ld,my darl i ng

,—in

God ’ s fo l d

SO safe l y housed from b l ight i ng heat and

co l d .

There no fi erce s to rm shal l b eat,—ou thy fai r head

Heaven ’ s gen t l e d ew shal l evermore b e shed

N e ’er to grow o ld,dear one

,nor-watch each part i ng

day,

The fri end most loved and lov i ng d roop i n s lowdecay

,

To lose some charm from l i fe,to s ee some hOpe go

down,

And k now our spri ngs are dri ed,and al l ou r fi e ld s

are b rownAnd I sha l l k now the e

,darl i ng

,i n that fa i re r land

Where thou cans t ne ’e r grow Old ! and touch thy

hand,

And hear thy vo i ce and know i ts low pure tone,

And fee l thee s till‘

my beau t i fu l , myown .

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TO E NOV . 8,

1 8 6 7 .

ALL that thy hand hath touched ha s prec i ou s grown ,And dearer grows as I draw neare r home

,

The home that c la im s th ee,now seems st rangel y

n ear !

Whi l e d eath ’ s dark s tream hath ne i th er ch i l l nor fear

Si n ce thou has t c ro s sed its cu rren t,—co l d and wide

,

E re thou d i dst s tand upon i ts farther S i d e,

And wi th thy gracefu l hand st re tched ou t to me

D rawi ng me ever to thy home and th ee

Oh when l i fe ’ s s torms are sobb i ng fai n t and l ow,

When the l ong shadows fade and pal e r grow,

How sweet shal l fa l l u pon my wi s tfu l ear,

In ton es so m i s s ed,so l o nged fo r

,

“Welcome,Mother

dearf’

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IN MEMORIAM .

OU R SOLD IER BOY,R . M .

Thou hast the dew of thy you th .

noon t i d e su n had scorch ed th e tende r

gras s,

On wh i ch thy you th fu l s t eps so l igh t l y

fel l

N o breath of pass i o n d immed th e c rys tal glas s

Whi ch m i rrored l i fe fo r th ee wi th magic sp e l l

N o cl oud had ri s e n o ’e r thy morn i ng hours,

N O rude wi nd bru shed the dewdrop from the flowers .

F irm as thy fai th i n man,thy t rus t i n God

,

Pure as th e dewdrop gl i s ten i ng on th e lawn,

Free as th e Skylark spri ngi ng from the sod

S i ngi ng i n gladsome wel come to the dawn,

Crowned wi th th e hal o o f thy love and tru th

O n thee forever res t s “ th e dew of you th .

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8 [N ME /VOA’IAM .

We wou ld no t,cou ld not

,l oved one

,ca l l th ee back

,

Though much we m i s s thy gladsome,winn i ng

ways,

To tread wi th u s the worn and dusty t rack,

Who s e fl owers l i e wi theri ng th rough the autum n

days,

To bear wi th us th e bu rden and the heat

O r fal te r on l i fe ’ s march wi th bru i s ed and weary

fee t .

The dew Of you th i s th i n e,thy heart ’ s pure t ru s t

N e ’e r l earn ed to doubt ' i f fr i en d were fal s e o r

tru e

N e ’er l earned tha t l ove cou ld crumbl e i n to dus t

O r t ru th and hono r ru l e the nob l e few

The spark l e s on th e cup were th i n e,th e d regs are

ours,

Thou art c rowned w i th l ivi ng,we have wi thered

flowers .

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THROUGH SUFFERING .

To l ive in hearts we leave oehind i s not to d ie .

EAR after year th e c ross she bore,

Yet covered i t wi th flowers,

And swee t the sm i l e h er face s t i l l wo re

Through su ffe ri ng ’ s weary hou rs .

Her gentl e p re sence ever th ril l ed

Our hearts wi th love i nt en se,

The very ai r sh e breathed seemed fi l l ed

Wi th heaven ly i nnocence .

So sweet,so pu re h er l i fe ’ s evange l

Echoed wi th notes from heaven,

Walk i ng wi th mortal s,yet an u ncrowned ange l

Wi th naugh t to be fo rgiven .

She heard a vo i ce we cou ld not hear

The pearly ga t es s tood open,

She knew God ’ s l ove wou l d dry each tear,

And heal each hear t now broken .

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THROUGH SUFFERING. I1

Why mourn that She has gone beforeTo draw u s up to Heaven !

A sweeter gu id e Shal l n evermore

To lovi ng hearts b e given .

Wai t i ng upon the “ sh i n i ng shore

Of L i fe ’ s ce le s t i al r iver,

Her gen t l e i nfluence b righ ter growsIn Heaven ’ s pure l igh t fo reve r .

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TRANSPLANTED .

The op’ning bud to Heaven convey ed ,

And bade i t bloom forever there . ”

IN MEMOR IAM .

E had a t i ny flower

That b los somed fo r an hou r

Sweet and fai r !But “ th e gardener ” came on e day

And took the flower away

From our care .

He knew rud e winds m igh t b low,

I—Ie feared the ch i l l i ng snowM igh t impai r

Its l ove l i n e s s so pu re,

SO He took i t “home I’

m su re,

To H i s care .

Ah baby Nel l i e,why

Does ou r heart so ach e and S igh

St i l l in vai n,

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TA’AA/I

SP LAN TED . 1 3

J u s t to h ear that coax i ng me,

And that w i nn ing sm i l e to see

Once agai n

But the mu s i c o nce so sweet

O f you r l i ttl e patter i ng fee t

O n the floor

Wi th you r coaxi ng,cu nn i ng ways

,

Your tri ck s and baby p lays,

Are no more .

And the t i ny we l l -worn shoe

L i e s mot ion l es s,whi l e you

,

St i l l and col d,

In a l i t t l e coffi n whi te

Are h idden from Ou r s igh t,

’Neath the m o ld .

But N el l i e,dear

,we know

You wi l l s t i l l i n beau ty grow,

Day by day,

In the “ sweet bye -and -bye .

We wi l l not que s t i on “why

You wen t away .

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THE CLOSE OF A BEAUTIFUL OLD AGE .

IN MEMOR IAM .

HEN di e the young,we say ’Ti s wel l

How much 1 3 spared,ah who can t e l l

,

Of s i n o r sorrow .

They n e ’ e r can l os e you th ’ s ten der b l oom,

Nor know’

th e fi e rce,the scorch i ng noon

Of l i fe ’ s to -morrow .

But now a beaut i fu l Old age

Has c l os ed i ts “book o f l i fe,each page

H ow brigh t and glowi ng,

So c l ean,so fai r

,each l eaf app ears

,

No blo t o f w i theri ng doubt,no fears

Its record showi ng .

From h i s own hear t h e l ooked on man

And thu s so tenderl y d i d scan

The weak and erri ng,

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THE CLOSE OF A BEA UTIF UL OLD AGE . 1 5

Whi l e thus h i s God,tho ’ wi se and j u s t

,

Was s t i l l “The Father ” he cou ld t ru s t

As k i nd and lovi ng .

Yes,nob l e was th e b rave

,t rue heart

,

And nob ly d id he act his part,

Ti l l s tern es t du ty

A lovi ng worsh i p s eemed to be,

Where fai th,and hope

,and chari ty

B lended i n beau ty .

Along th e s t ra igh t and narrow way

H e humb ly walked,and

,day by day

To Heaven drew neare r .

A l i fe o f l ove can n ever d i e,

It on ly mel t s In to the Sky

To sh i ne the c l earer .

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OUR LOST CHIEF

W ri tten on the day o f the funeral ceremon i es in honor OfAbraham L incoln .

ISE ,G OOD

,and TRU E

,—each s imp l e w ord

Recal l s th e fri en d we mou rn to -day

Whi l e eve ry heart w i th l ove is s t i rred

As s t i l l those s impl e word s we say .

SO w ire to. choo se th e path o f r igh t ,SO gooo

’ to man,so true to God

,

Those word s shal l gl ow wi th l ivi ng l igh t,

And gu id e u s i n th e path he t rod .

We 'need not s tumbl e,

’ t i s so c l ear

Whi l e t ru th and goodn es s po i n t th e way

The pure i n h eart can have no fear

In fo l lowi ng we mou rn to -day .

Oh mothers of ou r s t r i ck en l and

St i l l fo r th e l ivi ng we shou l d pray,

That th ey may grow wise, good, and frz z e,

Like th e loved ch i ef we mourn to -day .

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THE OPEN GATE .

we walk through bl ind fo ld,and the noi seless doors

C lose after us forever . ”

H turf so green,Oh bend i ng sky 3

Oh flowers w i th lu sc i ou s pant i ng breath,

Ye sm i l e,ye b lo ssom

,and ye d i e

Can ye no t so lve the mys t e ry—death !

We come wi th fl ow ers— his own loved flowers,

Li l i es w i th scented,t i ny be l l

,

And by his grave th rough May ’ s b right hou rs

“Ye sit and of his V i rtues t e l l .

We smooth the sod w i th j ea l ou s care,

And somet imes d rop a t e nder tear

“Te say how swee t h e w a s— how fai r I

IVe th i nk none e l se cou ld be so dear .

Wh y shou ld we say“ he w a s w e k now

Tha t he i s l iv i ng—l ov i ng s t i l lWhere al l h i s H eaven -bo rn gi ft s may grow

,

YVhere pu rer l ove his heart may th ri l l .

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THE OPEN GA TE . 19

We th ink of a l l h i s p rogres s now

How al l h i s hopes fru i t i on bear,

With ne ’er a doubt o f why o r how,

Nor shadow of an earth -born care .

H is l i fe we say was sun sh in e l ent .Or l ike the dew to bl os soms given

,

And know the grave th ro ugh wh ich he wen t

Was but the “Open Gate to H eaven .

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THERE .

The l ife that knows no end ing,

The tearless li fe is H ere .

T hath been O ften said,

“Li fe is not worth th e l iv i ng,that the years

But s i lver o ’er th e head,

d im th e eyes wi th many,many tears .

I know ’

tis sad to l ive,

When those we loved the bes t have gon e before

Gone,we wou ld fa i n b e l i eve

,

To wai t fo r u s upon a happ i e r shore .

Ah near the pearly gate s,

Which open wide on stree t s of pu res t go ld,

I k now my mother wai t s,

For moth er-l ove can n e ’er grow fai n t nor co ld .

Ki nd ly she ’ l l wel come me,

For here her heart was ever S l ow to b lame,

And ah,i t can no t be

That h eart s shou ld grow l es s k i nd near love’

s

flame .

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Oh,honored fath er d ear ,

How many lo ng and weary years have pas sed

S i nce thou d id s t teach me hereThy fai th so beau t i fu l—ah

,s t i l l Ihold i t fas t .

In h eaven so l ong

Wi th happy ones who know not gri ef no r tears,

With that b l es s ed th rong,

How can h e know of al l my doubts and fears !

And there I know i s one

Whose s t ro ng young arm wa s bared th rough

for me,

My b rave true son,

Sweet to my hear t wi l l thy glad we lcom e be .

Another wai t s me there,

Who l oved me once,when Iwas young and fai r

,

With braids o f sunny hai r

Bu t wi l l h e k now me now,so bowed wi th care

Ah in that rad i an t c l ime

Al l t race of age o r pai n wi l l d i sappear

Fresh i n myyou thfu l p rime ,He ’ l l know me there wi thou t a sta i n or t ear .

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2 2“THERE .

We shou ld no t wi sh to d i e,

Though “ fi e ld s are green beyond th e swe l l i ng

t i d e

Though dear ones hover n igh

To take ou r hand upon the other s i d e .

I dare no t W i sh to d i e,

Ti l l H e who p laced me here Shal l ca l l me home

Here l e t me humb ly try

To l earn H is wi l l,i f ye t my task is

w

do ne .

Nor do I “wish to d i e,

Bu t calm ly wai t to hear th e s to rm subs id e,

When the las t “ sweet good -bye ”

Shal l speed me k i nd ly o ’er th e swel l i ng t i de .

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BACK AGAIN .

THROUGH THE OLD CHURCH DOOR .

th e church so ru st i c and home ly,

Through the o ld fami l i ar door,

pas sed to th e seat so l on e ly,

Where oft I had sat before

And the Ho ly Book s tood open,

Whi l e the teacher ’ s word s to -day

Were the word s o f ou r b l es s ed Saviou rBefore H e “wen t away .

I have m any th i ngs to say,be loved

Bu t ye can no t bear them now .

Of al l,ye shal l know hereafte r

If i n fa i th ye humb ly bow .

Then i nto my heart there came s teal i ng

A sp i ri t o f peace and Of re s t,

But how,or why came th e fee l i ng

“He knows who knoweth best .

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“BACA

A GAIN.

Whi l e the years on the i r no i s e l e s s h i nges

T urned back to my wi s tfu l V i ew,

Ti l l the pas t w i th th e presen t b l ended,

And I saw as the ange l s do

As c lo s e to my heart seemed pre s s i ng

The loved ones one by on e,

Ti l l th e a i r was fi l l ed w i th b l e s s i ng,

And the l on e one no t alo n e, ,

Then I saw the dear Old “Mother,

As oft Ihad seen her th ere

I kn ew i t was she and no otherWho k ne l t by my s ide i n prayer

For th e hai r was so soft and c l i ngi ng,

Though the gray had changed to go ld,

And the vo ice I heard then s i ngi ng,

Had never grown fai n t no r o l d .

And near to my s id e sa t another,

With ri ngs of c l u s te ri ng hai r ,The so re ly m i s s ed e ld er “b roth e r

,

“My boy,

” so good and so fai r,

SO manly,so tal l and s l end er

,

“My pride in th e years gone by !I fe l t his care yet so tender

,

In th e glance of h i s earnes t eye .

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NOT YET .

W hen I Shall an swer to my angel name .

OME day when we Shal l k now as we are

k nown,

When lone ly h earts shal l b e no more a l o n e,

When forth from pri son bars th e b i rd has flown,

“ Some day

When we shal l vai n ly st rive to track i t s fl igh t

Wh i l e soari ng upward toward the rad i an t l igh t

Which fa i th as su re s shal l b l e s s ou r longi ng s ight“ Some day ”

Not ye t wh i l e care s t i l l shadows o ’er my brow

Nor ye t wh i l e earth l y love is s trong a s now,

But,dear on e

,I sha l l b e as pu re as thou

,

Some day

My res t l e s s h ear t wi l l ceas e its l ongi n gs vai n ,Forgive th e fri end o r foe who deal t th e pai n

,

When I shal l an swer to my ange l name,

Some day .

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N OT YE T . 2 7

Never aga i n,O heart to hunger as of o ld

Nor fea'

r the com ing storm,nor Shri nk from co ld

,

Shel tered so safe wi th i n the Shepherd’ s fo ld

,

Some day .

My cheek wi l l Show

NO earth ly so i l wi l l

My trembl i ng vo i ce

When IShal l sorrow never n ever more

To hear the com ing of th e boa tman ’ s oar,

Tha t bears ou r loved ones to the Vi ewle s s

Some day .

no channe l for a t ear,

on my robes appear,

agai n be strong and c l ear

Some day .

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AT—ONE—MENT .

T one wi th Thee,dear Lord

,my sp i ri t l ongs

To know that s t ri fe and confl i c t now may

cease !It pan ts to h ear th e glad

,t r i umphan t songs

Tel l i ng o f warfare pas t,and res t

,and peace .

Oh b l e s sed ato nement,wh ich i ndeed atones

For al l the seem i ng wrong,th e i l l

,th e pa i n

,

That e ’en the ru th l es s tyrant,s e l f

,deth rone s

,

And p lan t s th e st e ri l e was tes wi th golden gra i n .

To have no wi l l bu t Th i n e,O b les sed Lord

,

To humbly walk the path Thyse l f hath trod,

To rest se rene ly on Thy prom i sed Word,

Is not t/z z'

s be i ng reconc i l ed to God

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THOU KNO'

WEST BEST .

Iwill lead them in paths that they have not known .

OD ’S way i s no t l ik e ou rsWe wou ld have brightn es s on ly—each long

summer day,

Whi l e from the perfumed flowers

Rude winds shou l d never s teal on e fragran t b reath

away

NO dark,o r th reaten i ng c loud

Shou ld ever s tai n the b lu e of Heaven ’ s fa i r canopy,

No thunder l ong and loud

Shou ld b reak th e eternal ca lm of sky,and earth

,and

With fevered l i p s how soon

The fam i shed earth from fou ntai n s lock ed

seal ed,

Wou ld crave that ri chest boon

Which on ly c louds and storms can ever

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3 0TH OU A

JVOWE S T BES T .

God’

s way is not l i k e ou rs ,We wou ld have on ly j oy—th e eye shou ld k now no

tear,

Nor through th e l ong n igh t hou rs

S hou ld weary su ffe rers tos s—nor fond hearts th rob

wi th fear

N O rude ly wakened dream

Shou ld Show the p rec i p i ce on whi ch we b l i n d ly

s tood,

No d i sappo i n tm en t k een

Arou se the sou l t o s eek the t ru e,th e oa good .

D eath shou ld ne ’er tak e away

The fi rm,t ru e h eart on wh i ch ou r own cou ld re s t

,

That we m ight learn to p ray ,Thy wi l l

,not m i ne

,be done .

“Thou knowes t

b es t .

God ’ s way is not l i k e Ours,

H e l ead s u s eve r by a “ path we have not known

Through thorn s perchance o r flowers

It s t i l l w i l l b ri ng u s to “H is Rest,ou r Home .

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SOME DAY

W hen my ships come home .

SHALL be ri ch some do)! i n sums u nto l d

Of l igh t and love—more d ear than pearl sand gold

,

When al l my Sh i ps com e home,so seamed and o ld

,

Some day

Fre igh ted they were,with fai th

,and hope

,and

Oh,prec i ou s s tores Idearer than gold en dust

,

They wi l l b ri ng some retu rn,I fee l th ey must

,

Some day .

My sh ip s are com ing home I know how they

Have braved the s torms wh i l e on the i r homewardWay,

Bu t—they wi l l anchor i n some qu i et bay,

Some day .

I see th e c loud s—I hear the w i nd ’ s l ow wai l,

I fear them not,th e “Prom i se ” can not fa i l

,

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3 2SOME DA V .

And I shal l s ee the land -approach i ngsai l ,Some day .

Wi th o i l and wi n e from Off some sun ny shore,

With go ld and gems,O rich and prec i ou s s tore

I ne ’er shal l wan t fo r l igh t,no

,nevermore

Some day .

The shadows l engthen toward the com i ng n ight,

My sh ip s are n ear i ng land wi th sai l s so whi te,

I shal l b e ri ch—in l ove,and warmth

,and l igh t

,

Some day .

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REST AFTER GREAT ANXIETY .

He shal l not be afraid of ev i l t i d ings .

OW peacefu l l y th e week has c lo s ed,whi ch

Opened fu l l o f fears,

How calm its su n l igh t d i es away,whi ch

dawned th ro ’ mists and tears !my s t rai n ed ear, th e even i ng wind sobs ou t a

k i nd farewel l,

“ evi l t i d i ngs i t has brough t—nor crue l ta l e tote l l .

Pass to thy res t forever,O troub l ed

,anxi ou s week ,

O ne heart sha l l ever k i nd ly of thy vani shed hours! Speak .

For though thy morn was cl ouded o’er wi th gl oomy

doubts and fears,

Thy even i ng showed i t s rai nbow ,arched wi th grate

fu l sm i l es and t ears .

Oh ! fo r that h igher,fi rmer fai th i n th e prom i s e

Thou hast made,

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3 6REST AF TER GREA T ANXIE T Y.

That he whose “ heart i s fixed on Th ee n eed n ever

b e afrai d

No haun ting noonday shadows,nor evi l t i d

i ngs com e

To pal e th e eye wi th weep i ng,or st rik e th e s en se s

dumb .

How bl es t are th ey -th e happy few—who that swee tt ru s t at tai n

,

Even sorrow on the i r qu i e t h eart s,fa l l s l i k e a

mer rain .

O ’e r sunny s lopes,o r rocky s teep s

,wi th even s tep s

th ey t read,

Whi l e l igh t from th e “ E ternal H i l l s upon th e i r

path i s shed .

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THE OTHER LIFE .

It l ies around us l ike a cloud,

A world we can not seeYet the sweet closing o f an eyeMay bring us there t o be . ”

—MRS . STOWE .

HE other l i fe,ah what i s i t !

Luri ng forever from ou r s i d eThe he lp fu l heart

,th e wi l l i ng hand

,

Leavi ng u s s t i l l to breas t th e t i d e .

The oth er l i fe ” that look s so dark,

Yet many t im i d o nes have gon eInto that vast uncerta i n vo i d

,

As home-bound swa l l ows breas t th e s torm .

The other l i fe that s eem s so far

From home,wi th al l i ts tender t i e s

,

Yet,l ov i ng hearts th e soonest go

To seek that l i fe b eyond th e sk i es

The oth er l i fe,ah can i t need

As we th e hearts so t ru e and brave !Our “need s eems sore s t —yet they go

,

Leavi ng fohd hearts to ach e and crave .

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THE 0THE ] ! LIFE .

The oth e r l i fe take s al l we love,

And g ive s u s noth ing in re turn

Save hand s that beckon from above,

And p i ty i ng heart s that O’

er u s yearn .

Theo ther l i fe —i t s c i rc l e grow sAnd W i d en s wi th each flee t ing year

,

Whi l e l i nk by l ink th e chai n i s fo rged

That draws u s n ea r,and ye t more near .

The oth er l i fe —i t s Open gateL i e s j u s t acros s the grave

,we know

’Ti s open w i th th e summer flowers,

Nor c losed when fa l l s th e w i n ter ’ s snow .

The other l i fe —prophet i c penAlone i ts wondrous b l i s s has to ld

On ly p rophet i c ears have heard

The mus i c from i ts harp s o f go l d .

The othe r l i fe —how myst i c s eem sThat sou nd to du l l

,i n s en sate ears

Yet k i ndred vo i ces s i ng th e songs

That swel l th roughou t i t s h eaven ly spheres .

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SLEEPING GERMS .

HERE comes a t im e when,s t e rn and hard

,

The tree po i n ts co ld ly to th e Sky,

When winds no gen tl e wh i sper i ngs speak,

Bu t fi erce l y th rough the b ranches cry .

Whi l e far beneath congeal i ng fros t s

Ki nd natu re h ide s a foun tai n sweet,

One day to swel l thos e fibre s hard

And wi th new l i fe the Spr i ng to greet .

There comes a time when tender you thIs met by pas s i on ’ s hatefu l gla re

,

When reason i ngs fal s e as sai l th e tru th,

When ch i l d i sh seems the long-u sed prayer .

There comes a t im e when se l fhood rearsIts haughty fron t of dari ng prid e ,

When What Iwi l l ” i s al l i t s a im,

When every sen s e s eems glo rifi ed .

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SLEEPING GEIi’IlIS .

There comes a t im e when coun se l s s eem

Like i d l e words o r foo l i sh p l ay,

AS pearl s when fou nd by savage hands

Seem worth l es s s to n es to fl i ng away .

Benea th al l th i s l i e l i t t l e ge rms

L ike las t year ’ s fl ower’

s scatt ered seed

(Erewh i l e above them rank ly growsMany an i d l e

,bal efu l weed),

Sown by a mother ’ s w i s tfu l care

Far back i n happy Ch i l dhood ’

s years,

When pen i t en t fo r wi l fu l wrong,

Her sweet rebuk e b rough t gen t l e t ears .

God guard s wi th care th ese tender germ s

Les t pas s i on scorch the i r l aten t power,

Or fai th l es s fr i end wi th b i t te r tau n t

B l ight th em i n you th ’ s u nguarded hou r.

Some day some tender,s earch i ng word

May wake to l i fe that l aten t power,

As Spri ng-t ime s ets th e j u i ce s free

That soo n may grow to fru i t and flower .

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WHO KNOWS !

H i t seem s such a pi ty to tak e i t away,

The D eath Angel tenderly wh i spe red One

day

To h i s twi n b ro the r,Sl eep

,who watch ed by the bed

,

Where s lumbered yet ca lm ly a bright cu rly head .

’Ti s tw ice I have fo ld ed my dark wings befo re,

J u s t wai t i ng to en te r th i s l ove -guarded door

Then tu rn ed from the portal,

“Not yet mu st h e d i e,

Whi l e so tenderl y l oved Iwi l l come by and by .

Ah it s e em s su ch a p i ty,once more Ihave come

On my errand of mercy to ca l l th e ch i ld home .

Again I have fo lded my w i ngs at th e door

I have wai ted in vai n,fo r they l ove h im the more

More beau t i fu l s t i l l i s that caske t o f c lay

Where dwe l l s th e young sou l Imus t beckon away .

Ah swee t bro th er S l eep,how sad and how stern

Mu s t I s eem to th e fond h earts that over i t yearn .

Ah i t seem s such a p i ty,your watch has been l ong

,

And tende r and k ind as h i s moth er ’s low song,

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WH O KNOWS !4 3

Ki s s i ng down h i s fai r eye l id s,wh i l e sooth i ng each

fear,

For you come wi th a b l es s i ng,Ib ri ng bu t a tear

But s ee down h i s pathway,what p i t fa l l s are there

On the cheek of h i s mo th e r l i e fu rrows of care

And you,gen t l e S l eep

,may forsake h im some day

,

Then th i nk ’ twas i n mercy I ca l l ed h im away .

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TEARS, (NOT) IDLE TEARS .

They that sow in tears shal l reap in !oy.

AST P hilo e’

s graven s tones—o ’er Egypt’ sbu rn i ng sand s

State ly and calm her wondrous river flowsWhi l e du sk-y to i l e rs t i l l th e th i rs ty lands ,He al l -unheed i ng toward th e ocean goes .

The s tony Sph i nx,who keeps h er secret wel l

,

Looks calm ly on as s t i l l th e months go by

O ld M emnon murmu rs bu t no tal e wi l l t e l l

Where the vas t river S h idd en fou n tai n s l i e .

The sun sh i n es on,the moons s t i l l wax and wane

,

He heed s no m u rmu rs,yi e l d s to no cares s

Wi se l y h e b i des h i s hour—th en not i n vai nH e overflows to vivi fy and bl es s .

Tears thu s shou ld be as soft,persuas ive rai n

,

Which break s and mel t s th e l ong,u ny i e ld i ng clo d !

Where pat i en t hands may reap th e go lden grai n,

Or ch i l d ren gath er dai s i es from th e sod .

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“TEARS

, (N OT ) IDLE TEARS .

4 5

Oft-l avi sh ed tears bu t w aste the heart ’ s r i ch so i l,

On wh ich h igh hopes and nob l e though ts shou ld

grow,

As summer ’ s wast i ng s torms undo the to i l

O f carefu l hands,or sp ri ng ’ s ben ignant glow .

Then waste no t tears the i r foun t shou ld guarded‘

b‘e,

That no impa t i e n t touch un lock i ts d eep reces s

Wi th wi s e and tender love l e t th e supply be free

That i t may on l y overflow to save and b l es s .

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RETROSPECTION .

Speak to the chi ld ren of Israel,that they go forward .

—ExoDU SXIV . 1 5 .

ACKWARD a l ong l i fe ’ s path Iwou ld to -day ,Retrace my weary steps

,

Such fal t e ri ng s teps that were not so alway,

Bu t firm and s trong,—perhaps

It i s becau se the devi ou s,way-worn path

Look s a l l too rugged now,

Where fu rrow fol l ows fu rrow i n th e swath

Of t im e ’ s re l en t l e s s p l ough .

The stubbl e ru s t l e s i n the fi e l d s so brown,

Ly i ng th e path bes i de,

The h i l l s eems s teeper,whi l e the fu rzy down

Look s co l d and b l eak and wide .

Where are th e flowers that b l o ssomed i n gras s,

And where th e wavi ng grai n !

Imis s th e Lark ’ s wi l d caro l as I pas s

Acros s th e du sty p lai n .

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RE TROSPECTION. 47

Ju s t here I s tumb led once—can I forge tThat crue l

,sad m i stak e !

My heart- s t r i ngs qu iver as Iwri t e—and yetIt seemed the way to take .

The ch i ld ren that once walked th i s pa th w i th meAre busy

,bearded men

Whi l e some “are not,

”o r se em

,alas I to b e

At t imes so far,

—and then

I l i ft above th e roadway t ru s t i ng eyes,

And O ft t imes s ee qu i te c l ear

P i ctu red agai n s t th e glow i ng,su nset sk i es

,

Those m i ss i ng ones so dear .

Onward,my sou l— th e pas t i s th i ne no more

,

The fu tu re l eave to God

H e l eadeth thee ” “The Master goes befo re,

Fol low the path H e trod .

To -day i s ou rs to fi l l w ith l ove and l i fe“ Forward i t s bugl e cal l

To wi se r e ffo rt and to nobl e r s t r i fe,

’Gai n s t evi l ’ s power and th ra l l.

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IMPLORA.

WR I T TEN FOR THE WOMAN ’

S T EM PERANC E MOVE

M EN T ” IN OH IO .

Ye shall reap if ye faint not .”

I woman,fai n t no t I though th e wi shed

fo r morn i ng

D e l aye th long to b l e s s thy wa i t i ng s igh t

The dark es t hou r i s j u s t be fo re th e dawn i ng

D i sp e l s the gloom,th e hop e l e ss b lank o f n igh t .

Oh Iwoman,fai n t no t th rough th e n igh t SO dreary

,

One watched for thee- fo rsaken and al one,

Pray ing i n agony wh i l e worn and weary,

With none to watch one hour ” wi th H im,no t

one I

Oh Iwoman , fa i n t no t on H i s t ru th re ly i ng,

Fea r no t to walk where H e,ou r Mas te r

,t rod

H umb ly l ik e H im—al l p ri d e,al l se l f deny i ng

,

Strivi ng to win th e wretched back to God .

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50 IMPLORA .

Oh Iwoman,fa int not l o I a c loud al l -gloriou s

Of w i t ne ss es su rround s thee day by day

Courage l ik e th i n e must make thy fai th V i cto ri ou s,

Cou rage to work,

!

and fai th to Watch and pray .

Oh Iwoman,fa i n t no t

,though the morn de layeth

Beho ld we coun t th em happy wh i ch endure .

Of many,ange l s say

,

“Behold,he prayeth I”

There ’ s “ j oy i n heaven,

” God ’

s prom i se s are su re .

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BEAUTIFUL NIGHT

And there shall be no nigh t there .

H I n igh t so beau t i fu l ! sha l l we no t m i s s

th ee “ thereThe ho ly n igh t that b ri ngs swee t re s t from

care,

draws her k i nd ly ve i l o ’er d roop i ng flowers,

soo thes to s l eep the s t r ivi ng,t i red hou rs I

Shal l we no t m i s s th e p lan et s come and go,

As here we watch for them from su n to s now,

The morn i ng s tars that hai l th e dawn i ng l ight

The star o f even i ng,heral d o f the n igh t !

The wayward meteo rs flash i ng to and fro,

The s tead fas t s tars that o ’er u s b urn and gl ow,

O ld watch fu l S i ri u s spark l i ng l ik e a gem,

With al l th e p ri ce l ess j ewe l s of n igh t ’ s d iadem I

We shal l no t m i s s the go ld,th e gems of day

,

For “ th ere ” ou r feet sha l l t read the sh i n i ng way,

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5 2BEA UTIF UL IVIGH T.

Where gate s o f p earl s t i l l guard th e go lden s t ree t,

Where go ld en harp s ou r eager ears sha l l greet .

We shal l no t m i s s the flowers,for “ th ere we know

Bes id e the “ t ree of l i fe they b loom and grow

M ore b eau t i fu l than we have d reamed i n happ i e s t

hou rs

Are those immortal,n ever-wi theri ng flowers .

No n igh t is th ere,fo r “ th ere th ey n eed no S l eep

There l abo r i s bu t res t “ th ere ” none may weep,

Our Fath er ’ s work they do,and b l es t are th ey

who share

In that swee t work of m i n i s t ry and care .

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TO -MORROW’

Dream ing of a to-morrow,wh ich to-morrow

W i ll be as distant then as ’t is to-day .

OW cans t thou cheat u s so,

Oh l i fe I as day by day and year by year

Our thoughts move res t l e s s ever to an d

fro,

to se i z e th e good that seems so n ea r

Wi th hope ’ s to -morrow .

SO mean—and ye t so far IOur hand had almos t grasped i t on e fa i r day ,And s t i l l i t l u res u s l i k e a rad i an t star

Whose l igh t may prove that fi tfu l,spec iou s ray

That l ead s to sorrow .

Ah Iwhy not b ri ng to -day

The good thy mocki ng l i p s have prom i sed long,

Our n eed i s sores t now—to -morrow,dos t thou say

Ever to -morrow !

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54 TO-IIIOBRO

A boon may com e too l ate,

AS l igh t to h im whose weary l i fe had passed

Wi th i n the dungeon ’ s gl oom,ah

,cru e l fate I

T o -morrow came too late—and l igh t at las tBrough t on ly sorrow

.

TO -morrow,say the waves

,

The stormy wate rs w i l l have su nk to s l eep ,

To-m orrow ’ s su n wi l l gi l d th e peacefu l graves

O f men who now ’ rou nd camp -fires s l umber deep,

Nor fear to -mo rrow .

To -morrow Iwi l l come

Thus speak s th e l over aft er “ sweet good -n igh t .

To-morrow,says th e m oth er

,wi l l my boy retu rn

Ah I thu s thro ’ l i fe thy song though sad or brigh t

Is s t i l l to -morrow .

To -morrow do st thou say !To-morrow Iwi l l i t b ri ng u s l ove o r go ld !

Art t ru e at l as t—or dos t thou cheat a lway,

Wi l l a l l my sh ip s come home,tho ’ s eamed and

Yet safe to -morrow !

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ONLY A WORKER .

We m igh t have been IThe saddest words o f tongue or pen .

OST hopes,l o s t j oys, l o s t you th I—how wan

i t l ook s

L i fe,with so much of l igh t and warmth

gone ou t

(We often read of such sad l ives i n b ook s ,Somet imes wi th tears—and oft w i th many a

doubt

Yet l i fe s t i l l l i ngers,though so much has gone

,

We ga‘z e back wi stfu l o ’ er the darkened scene

We ask,i f yet ou r task i s almost don e

We th i nk of a l l we shou ld or m igh t have been

I“might have b een a star,to th row one ray of l igh t

Over the dark ened path o f those who trod

Through clouds and s torm,s t i l l s t ruggl i ng th rough

th e n igh t ,Grop i ng and s earching for th e way to God .

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56 ON L Y A H’ORKEA’ .

I “m ight have been a poem,pure and tru e

,

Sooth i ng some sorrowi ng heart w i th tender

word s

Brac ing some s i nk i ng sou l to l i fe an ew

Or glad’

n ing ch i ldhood , l i k e the song of b i rd s .

I might have b een a foun ta i n,coo l and cl ear

,

Such as from desert rock once free ly bu rs t,

Where t im id b i rd cou l d d i p wi thou t a fear,

Or grate fu l t rave l e rs pau s e to quench the i r th i rs t .

Em b l em of pu ri ty and Tru th D iv i n e

What b l es s i ngs cou ld I y i e ld to fai n t i ng men I

What l e s son s from each crys tal d rop shou ld sh i n e I

Lesson s n e ’e r graved by d iamond nor by pen .

I “might have been a flower sweet and rare,

With beau ty such as pain te r n e ’e r cou l d p lan,

Pouri ng ou t fragrance o n the u ncons c iou s a i r

Wh i l e waft i ng heavenward,pra i s e from gratefu l

man .

Ihave been bu t a beggar—s t re tch i ng ou tBeseech i ng hands

,cravi ng m o re l ove

,more l igh t

Upon the path so rough,so

.

hedged abou t

Wi th thorn s,and oft en dark as s tarl es s n igh t .

Ihave been bu t a worker,t i red and worn

,

Yet watchfu l ever,t remb l i ng

,fearfu l—l es t

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WHY NOT

Oh beau t i fu l Fai th , make i t clear .

ES—Fa i th i s a beau t i fu l ve stalWho comes wh i t e-robed and seren e

,

When wi l l and be l i e f are i n confl i ct,

To stand as an ange l between,

To say to th e tu rbu l en t pass i on

Of heart s as they chafe and they swel l,

Be st i l l,

”—after l i fe ’ s fitfu l feve rBe l i eve me i t a l l w i l l b e W e l l .

She s tand s by the shadowy val l ey

Into wh i ch so bewi l d ered we gaze,

Whi l e we seek for our l oved ones so vai n ly

Wi th eyes that wou l d p i erce th ro ’ i t s ma z e ,And te l l s u s “ th e val e is no t gloomy ,The w ay not so weary nor l ong,

That ou r dear ones are s t i l l very n ear u s

We almost m igh t j o i n i n th e i r song .

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WH Y N OT !59

She te l l s you your loved ones are happy,

She wh i spers you ’ l l mee t them agai n,

You be l i eve—whi l e you fee l as you l i s ten,

Your heart craves them ever the same

When you fal te r s o footsore and weary

She p laces a s taff i n your hand

And says,

“Whi le the path may be rugged,

It l ead s to a beau t i fu l land.

At the storm -c l oud when lowest and darkes t

She gaz es wi th up l i fted eye,

And te l l s you that soon i n i t s b eau ty

The rai nbow wi l l s pan th e c l ear sky .

Be pat i ent,

” ’ t i s bu t fo r an hou r

The p i t i l e s s s l ee t and th e rai n

Ah,yes I sh e can t each u s to su ffe r ,But

,alas I can she take away pai n !

She bri ngs you a cup—Oh I so b i t t er,

And says, i f you on ly wi l l t ry

To d ri nk i t wi thout e ’en a murmur ,How sweet i t w i l l b e by and by

But here,

” says the heart i n i t s angu i sh,

Ah Iwhy not be happy whi l e here IWhen the earth is so fai r i n i t s beau ty

,

Oh,beau t i fu l Fai th

,make i t c l ear .

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FADING FIRELIGHT FANCIES .

The leaves o f memory seemed to makeA mourn fu l rust l ing in the dark .

S lone ly watch i ng by th e firelight’

s glow,

When n igh t ha s shu t ou t carefu l,re s t l e s s

day,

Thought,l i k e a t i re l e ss s ent ry

,to and fro

Tread s th e long round of M emory ’ s sacred way

The “ Vi a sacra,l i n ed wi th tombs and graves ,

Where S l eep the bu ri ed hopes o f bygon e years,

Whi l e over all Love ’ s ch er i sh ed flower st i l l waves

The sweet fo rget -me -not,p lan ted wi th many

tears !

P leasan t the hou r,al though I sit al on e

,

And watch the fad i ng embers s l owly d i e,

And hear th e cri ck et ch i rp wi th home ly to ne,

Whi l e on th e wal l fan tast i c shadows l i e .

’Ti s th en I dream of al l that m igh t have b een,

And dare to dream of j oys that yet m igh t be

Pai n t wi th sweet Fancy ’ s pen each glowi ng scene ,Such as Hope wh i sp ers ye t m ight wai t fo r me .

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FADING F IRELIGHT FANCIE S . 6 1

In that calm hour when earth -born care is s t i l l,

To h igher,purer good my thoughts asp i re

,

With fi rm reso lves that Sel f no more shal l ch i l l

The warm l i fe -cu rren t fed by Heaven ’ s own fi re

Then sweet affec t i on s,wh ich

,l i k e b rood i ng dove

N es t l ed so c los e ly th rough the p ry i ng day,

With gen t l e murmurs s t i r th e depth s Of l ove

To throb and swe l l ben ea th the i r po ten t sway .

Then to the h eart s eem absen t fr i e nd s more near,

(And one we th i nk of oft , -bu t se ld om name,)

Wh i l e th rough i t s chambers sweeps the secret fear,

Le s t he shou ld ne ’ e r retu rn to us the same .

Sometimes beyond the fi tfu l embers g low

Sweet,earnes t eyes

,wi th wi s t fu l gaze I see

A s i s te r ’s eyes l ooked thu s long years ago

And now i n Heaven are look i ng ou t for m e .

Fad i ng,s t i l l fad i ng — now the l igh t i s gon e

I hear the Apri l W i nd ’ s l ow,sobb i ng cry

D ream ing —s t i l l dream ing e —yet I s i t a lone,

Whi l e at my fee t th e pal e,co ld ashes l i e .

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SO LONG AGO .

Bl i ss was i t then to be alive,

But to be young was very H eaven .

OST thou rem ember,sweet

,thos e care l es s

dayswalks—th e talk s— ou r merry ch i l d i shp l ays

So fa i r,so fai n t

,th rough the en fo ld i ng haz e

O f long ago

Is i t so l ong ! Why , l i fe i s short , th ey say

And sad,—ah

,wel l I l e t that b e as i t may ,

Sorrow at l eas t s eem-ed far away , that daySo long ago .

Hast p layed at h i de-and -seek i n gras s so h igh

Hast ever see n s i n ce then so b l ue a SkyOr has i t s eemed so near to you and I

As long ago

Where no i sy rook s were cawi ng overh ead ,Under the p i nes o ne day we sa t and read

,

Choos i ng a hero from the book—w e sa i d

SO l ong ago

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SO LONG AGO. 6 3

Two lit t l e maid en s free and happy qu i te ,And you

,—SO l ove ly i n th e go ld en l igh t

,

That fl i ck ered th rough the p i nes,—SO warm

bright,

And long ago .

Above the b rook,where loud i t sp lashed and rang

,

Two orio l e s had thought the i r n es t to hang,

Whi l e to i ts r i pp l i ng fal l th ey tri l l ed and sang

So l o ng ago

Ah I do th ey chas e the p i l fe ri ng b lu e -b i rd now !

Flash ing the i r orifl am e from bough to bough,

Where l i t t l e maiden s watch ed w i th uptu rn ed brow,

So long ago

And heroes,—o ’

e r ou r path has t ever s trayed

One tru e and nob l e,as—th e book port rayed

The chosen i d eal o f each'

litt le maid

So l ong ago .

The brook ne ’er t i red u s w i th i ts r i pp l i ng song ,Though th en

,as now

,i t babb l ed on and on ,

Through summer days that n ever s eemed too l ong,

So long ago .

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64 SO LONG AGO.

After a day so rou nded,SO compl ete

,

Dos t tho u remember how our bu sy feet

Came home so t i red,

” and s l eep was oh,so sweet

,

So l ong ago !

And how we c l imbed th e coo l grey rocks to fi nd

The tendere st fern s,h id i ng so coy beh i nd

From pryi ng su nbeams—or th e woo i ng wi nd

So l ong ago

We ’ve c l imbed more rugged rock s S i n ce th en,

sweet,

With pat i en t heart s s t i l l to i l i ng up th e s teep,

We never kn ew of b ru Ised or weari ed feet

So l ong ago .

Do s t thou remember h ow we watch ed the moon

In dreamy talk o n th rough th e n ight ’ s s t i l l noon,

Ti l l p eace and res t enwrapped th e sh adowy r o om

So long ago !

Or when we watch ed the fi refl i e s pal e and gl ow,

Dodgi ng the bat s swi ft wh i rl i ng to and fro

Whi l e cr i cket s ch i rped the i r monoton e so s l ow,

Long,l o ng ago !

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A SUM IN CANCELLATION .

A LESSON FOR F L I RT S .

ES I l e t u s cance l a l l the d eb t

That l i e s be tween u s —it is bes tTo square accou n ts b efo re we go

s eparate path s,or—e ’en to re s t .

Some songs we ’ve sung togeth er—andSome s to ri e s to ld—wh ich d id not l i e

,

Some h i eroglyph i cs t raced i n sand,

Which none cou l d read bu t you,or I.

Some flowers have wi the red i n ou r hand s,

Gathered i n happy hou rs go ne by,

They talk of l ove i n east ern land s,

With fl owers wh ich bl os som bu t to d i e

Some pl easan t walks we can ’ t forge tO ’ er fragran t grass i n twi l igh t hours

,

Imeant to b l o t ou t al l—and yetFragrance wi l l hang ’ round wi thered flowers .

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A S UM IN CAIVCELLA I'

IOIV. 6 7

Forget,I pray

,one even i ng

,when

Mycheek bu rn ed wi th a ri che r glow ,

The crim soned su n was set t i ng th en—1

To h im that b lush Iwel l m ight owe .

Some s ighs and t ears are l a i d away,

Where memory s to re s fo rb i dden th i ngs,

We need not reckon them,I hope

,

Wi th songs,and books

,and fl owerS —and

You neve r knew how hot the tears,

Nor weighed how heavy were th e s igh s,

And shou l d we meet i n comi ng years

You ’ l l th i nk,

“ how time has d immed those eyes .

And now our hearts s tand lone and co l d,

’Twere wi se to knock at Fr i endsh i p ’ s door,

And l earn of h im so t r i ed and o ld,

To be bu t fr i end s,and—noth i ng more .

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A FAREWELL TO SCHOOL -DAYS .

C LASS SONG FOR COMMENC EMENT .

GO LDEN years,tu rn back and Show

Your reco rd fai r o f happy hours,

When,gatheri ng food for s te rn es t need

,

We seemed,l i k e bee s

,to S lp from flowers .

Far i n to l i fe you r p rom i s e s tre ams,

Shedd i ng a l igh t o ’e r path s un tri ed

Whi le argos i e s o f hope and tru st,

O ’er l i fe ’ s w id e ocean seem to gl i d e .

Sweetened by fri end sh i p ’s tender grace,

A generou s rival each became

Such pu rpose h igh shon e i n each face,

E ’e n emu lat i o n gave no pai n .

Forth from th i s day our paths d iverge,

Some lead i ng up th e mou ntai n ’ s s teep,

Some te nd i ng to sweet she l tered homes,

Where al l may sm i l e and some may weep .

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A FARE I/VELL TO SCHOOL—DA VS . 69

O youth ’s sweet sp ri ng- t ime,fare th ee we l l

,

(O fri ends .

I we part w i th happy tears .)Our fu tu re l ives thy prai s e mu st te l l

,

A harves t for tho se budd i ng years .

O van i sh ed years of pat i en t to i l I

Youth ’s garnered sheaf o f we l l - spen t hours,

The to i l is al l fo rgotten now

We on ly s ee the fru i t and flowers .

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SEA CHANGES.

0 sea Io ld sea Iwho yet knows hal f of thy wonders or thy pride I”

H the tr ibu te that th e sea b ri ngs

As l av i sh ly each wave fl ings

Some dai n ty weed or b lo s som upon th e

t i de -washed sand

From every wh i te -fri nged swel l

Is flung a t i n ted she l l,

h id e i n nook or c revi ce for Chi l dhood’ s eager

hand .

Oh I th e beau ty that the sea ho ld s I

Whi l e j ea l ou s ly each wave fo ld s

With i n i t s swel l i ng bosom the dai n ty fragi l e th i ngs

NOW sh i nes a crim son s ta r,

Or i r i d escen t Spar,

Whi l e t i ny un ivalves float by’

on grey and s i lve r

w i ngs .

What changes do th the sea bri ng INot poesy ’ s imagi n i ng

Cou ld from decay such beau ty,

wond rou s

th i ngs evok e

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SEA CHAN GE S .

7 1

If'mermaid s weep , we know

There pearl s and amber grow,

And lo fty cora l i s lands ri s e where t i ny i n sect s work .

Oh I th e beau ty that the sea ho ld s I

Where lovi ngly i ts arm fo ld s

Around some Sp i cy i s land where nods p lumypalm

Where l eap i ng waves are brigh t

Wi th phosphorescen t l igh t,

And gl i des the fa i ry naut i lu s th rough w aters soft

and calm .

What marve l s doth the sea show,

As to and fro th e t id es flow,

Respons ive to the l ady moon who look s so calm

be l ow

Where qu iveri ng waters greet

Her glance so bright and sweet,

Whi le throb s h er pu l se i n measu re to th e wate r ’ s

ebb and flow .

Oh Ith e s tori e s that the sea t e l l sI

Whi l e back and forth each wave swel l s,

Reveal i ng to the su n l ight some s ecre t k ept for years

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72 SEA CHANGES .

A bri ny,brok en spar

D ri ft s by from shore s afar ,Where t reach erou s rock s were h i d i ng—cru e l as

s i ren ’ s t ears .

Oh I sad ly doth th e sea moan I

Whi l e break i ng ’ rou nd some grey s ton e,

A . s en t i n e l above th e spot where on ce a sh ip went

down

Th e rock,so s te rn and col d

,

Heed s not th e requ i em ol d,

The movi ng sea seems p i t i fu l—the ro ck canfrown .

Above th e wreck th e sea ro l l s,

Whi l e surging waves the be l l to l l s,

Heard On ly by the mermaid wi th i n her crys tal cave,Where coral fores ts grow

,

Spread i ng th e i r fro nd s of snow,

And no d i s tu rb i ng b i l l ows reach th at qu i e t o cean

grave .

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A GARNERED SIIEAF

It fell u pon my heart l i ke d ew,

The awak ’

ning I can n e ’er regret,

For though i ts b l i s s fu l hou rs were few,

Thei r memory l i ngers wi th me yet .

The d ream whose l i ne s were once so b righ t

Has van i shed wi th the summer ’ s l eaves

Whi l e hopes wh ich b loomed in summer ’ s l igh t

Are garnered wi th my autumn sh eaves

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BROWN STUDIES FOR NOVEMBER ’S

EASEL .

LOSED i s th e b ri l l i an t pagean t of the s low l y

pass i ng year,

Her scarl e t bann ers float no more o ’er wood

land far and near

Worn natu re don s h er ru s se t hood and th rows her

garlands down,

Whi l e shrunken l i e her summer spri ngs and “all her

fi e ld s are brown .

Where once ou r eyes were gladden ed by the fre sh

and nodd ing grai n,

The l ong,brown furrow naked l i e s

,beneath th e

fal l i ng rai n

Through al l th e melancho ly days the heavens wear

a frown,

Whi l e sh runken are ou r summer spri ngs,and “ al l

ou r fi e ld s are b rown .

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76 BROWN STUDIES .

O ’er d i s tan t h i l l s of sombre t i n t th e cra ftv sport s

man s trays,

Track i ng th e shy,b rown rabb i t h ome

,c l o s e h id i ng

from h i s gaz e

H eavi l y fa l l s th e au tum n haze en fo ld i ng wood and

town,

Where summer spri ngs are sh ru nken and “ fi elds

are bare and brown .

In golden brown the part ri dge gl ean s th e fi e ld fo r

s catte red seed,

F l ee i ng for safe ty th rough th e b ru sh or i n the tan

gl ed weed

Whi l e no i sy,happy school -boys shak e the pri ck ly

chest nu t down,

We mo tirn ou r summer spri ngs so dry and“ fi e l d s

so bare and brown .

H i s glo s sy p l ume of go lden brown,th e t i ny ch i p

munk waves,

Whi l e th e acorn and th e beechnu t wi th cunn i ng

care h e saves

Beneath th e oak,i n s imp l e t ru st

,he lays h i s t reas

ure down,

Whi l e w e,

—alas I ou r Spri ngs are d ry,and al l ou r

fi e ld s are b rown .

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BROWN S TUDIES .

77

The mock i ng j ay fl its by u s as we b i nd our meagre

sheaves,

With tremb l i ng hearts we l i s ten to th e ru s t l e o f the

l eaves,

For under l eaves so se re and brown we laid ou r

treasu res down

And know “ ou r summer Spri ngs are d ry and al l ou r

fi e ld s are brown .

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AN OCTOBER PICTURE .

HERE the pal e shadows are s t eal th i ly gropi ng

Over the l awn to the near wood land l ping,

Stand s a ta l l a s ter i n pu rp l e most roya l,

St i l l to th e l ate autumn sun sh i n e so l oyal .M any a dai n t i er flower has peri sh ed

,

Blos soms the d ew and the sun sh ine had cheri sh ed,

Whi l e s t i l l o ’e r th e as te r the bu t te rfl i e s hover,

From fores t and meadow comes each l i t t l e rover,

The dai n ty wh i te bu tte rfly,

The s i lve r-winged bu t te rfly,

And st i l l th rough the haz e

Of au tumn ’ s soft d ays,

Around th e tal l as te r th e bu tterfly p l ays .

Flower and fo l iage are fad i ng and dyi ng,

October b reez es are p lai nt ive ly s igh i ng,

Fi l l i ng the ai r w i th a requ i em tender,

Beari ng from wood land i t s t r ibu te of sp l endor,

Over and over repeat i ng th e story,

Summer i s pas sed wi th its beau ty and glo ry

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AN OCTOBER PICTURE . 79

Yet s tau nch to the last,th e as te r look s ch eery

,

Whi l e t i ny,brave bu tte rfl i es n eve r grow weary .

The fra i l t i ny bu t te rfly,

The gay summer bu tterfly,

Through the gather i ng haze

Of late au tumn days

Around the tal l as te r s t i l l flutters and p lays .

These p i c tu re s so fa i r,are swee t to remember

When au tumn ’ s grey l ight grows dark wi th D e

cember,

When through the ch i l l a i r no bee shal l be humming

Nor s i lve ry wi ng to the as ter b e com ing

For stark on the lawn , bereft of i t s gl ory ,Its brown wi thered l eaf w i l l t e l l th e sad s t o ry

,

That the wi n ter of l i fe w i l l b e darksome and d reary

When fond wa i t i ng h earts grow wi stfu l and weary

Whi l e watch i ng for wh i t e wi ngs,

The van i sh i ng brigh t wi ngs,

And peer th rough th e haze

Of l i fe ’ s tangl ed maz e,

For a gl eam of the w i ngs now pas sed from the i r

gaz e .

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WAITING .

HE leafle s s v i ne s c reak agai n s t th e pane,

Whi l e cl o s e and s tead i ly droppeth the rai n ,Back to my heart creep s th e o ld du l l pai n

As the n igh t fal l s d reari ly .

The wei rd w i nd moans ’rou nd the tu rre t wal l,

The branche s groan whi l e th e dead l eaves fa l l ,But Ihear my heart beat above i t a l l

As th e hou rs pas s h eavi ly .

On my lo ne ly hearth th e fi re bu rn s low,

The c lock t i ck s cease l ess ly to and fro,

Ican count each th rob of my heart as s low

VVanes th e n ight,and weari l y .

The lamp burns d im l y,the shadows grow

So we i rd and so huge i n the embers ’ glow,

Whi l e my heart grows ch i l l as th e wi n ter ’s s now“Wait i ng SO wear i ly .

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82 DOWN TH E RIVER .

Through th e fore s t swe l l i ng

Where the wi ld b i rd s dri nk

Near th e woodman fe l l i ng

Tree s u pon i t s b ri nk .

Now i t b roaden s s l ow ly

Through the meadows wher e

L i l i e s nod so queen ly

In th e s cen ted a i r,

So s t i l l,we hear th e ru s t l e

Of l eaves when scarce ly s t i rred

Now in th e c i ty ’ s bu s t l e

Its dash is se l dom heard .

By the hu t so l owl y

On pampas lon e and wid eIt gathers wh i l e i t broad en s

To mee t the ocean ’ s t i d e .

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REMEMBERED,YET FORGOTTEN .

“The sensuous beau ty that enslaves .

HERE shal l we meet—and how !We who once loved so fond ly and so we l l

Nor d reamed of change— and now

Love ’ s requ i em pla i n t each th robbi ng heart may

te l l !

Thy path l i e s far away

Across the waters i n th e l and of song,Whi l e weaker grow each day

The t i es so cheri sh ed once,and deemed s trong .

I s tand upon the sand

Ga z mg upon the far, reced i ng wave ,Hasten i ng to k i s s th e l and

Whose beau ty b i nds thee—a too wi l l i ng S l ave

Over whose su n ny l ands

The sou th wi nd woos the amorou s grape,

Where gi rl s wi th wi n e -s ta i n ed hands

Afte r th e vi ntage to i l the i r v igi l s make .

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8 4REIl/IE IVIBERED

,YE T F ORGOTTEIV.

By some l one way -s id e Shri n e,

Graced by a sad Madonna,—mossed and grey

,

In that swee t vesper t im e

Where a ll is Ooa uty—even thou mus‘

t pray .

Thy l ongi ng heart i s fi l l ed

Wi th sen suou s beau ty of th e ri ch est hu e,

Whi l e l ove ’ s warm pu l s e i s ch i l l ed

That pu re r l ove thy bet te r natu re k new .

In hal l s where j eal ou s art

Hath s tored its t reasures—th ere you sit and dream,

Ti l l from tho se d reams you start,

As eyes wh ich te l l o f m i n e from some fai r p i ctu re

gl eam .

The pu l s e of l o fty aim,

Which th robbed wi th l i fe ’ s t ru e pu rpose fu l l and

s tro ng,

Now start s w i th fi tfu l pai n

And wakes—to s l eep agai n,—lu l l ed by the s i ren ’ s

song .

Where shal l we meet - and how !As fri ends or s trangers —S t range we are i n tru th

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RE IVIE IIIBERE D,YE T F ORGOTTE /V. 8 5

oThy i n n er l i fe is now

NO more th e echo of my earnes t,t ru s t i ng youth

As the reced i ng wave

Retu rn s no more acro s s th e s torm - tos sed

S ince l ove has fou nd i ts grave,

Retu rn not tho u—we ca n ”of meet agai n .

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TO A YOUNG FRIEND

W ho for several years sent the writer a lovely Chr istmas present .

HY Santa C lau s shou l d p i c tu red be

A home ly,wei rd - l i k e e l f

,

When each year h e appears to me

As love ly as you rs e l f,

No vi sage burly,bl u ff and ol d

,

Crowned wi th l ong lock s of snow,

But one wi th b ra ids of. brown and gol d,

Where roses come and go .

With eyes so b rown,so so ft

,so b right

,

We wel l m igh t say,

“ Take care,

D i d no t the i r rays o f pu res t l igh t

Revea l a sou l as fai r .

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TO A FRIEND

ON HER WEDD ING DAY .

WEET moon of May,bri ng gen tl e ga l e s

To waft thee o ’e r a summer s ea,

On whi ch,wi th palp i tat i ng sai l s

,

The bark Of Love now wai t s for th e e .

With sweete s t flowers perfume th e ai r,

Fi l l i ng thos e sa i l s so pu re and wh i t e

O n H eavenly shores a home prepare,

When sai l s are fu rl ed and fal ls the’

n ight .

Fal l,pass i ng clouds

,i n happy tears

,

And gent ly weep yourse lve s away,

Nor Shadow o ’er wi th droop i ng fears

The rad i an t promi se of To -day .

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TWILIGHT VOICES .

OW th e chorus o f twi l igh t our weary heartsgree t

,

l The cr i ck e t ch i rps low i n th e grass at ou rfeet

,

rob i n i s cal l i ng from shrub and from tree

garden breathes p erfume—come,walk th ere

w i th me .

A Spi ri t o f res t s eems to stea l o ’e r the land,

L i k e th e coo l,soo th ing touch of a dear mother ’ s

hand,

Whi l e welcome n igh t d roppeth her grey mant l e

down

On dry,d roop i ng fi e ld s and th e du s t -curta i n ed town .

The t i red ch i ld n es t l e s,and s i nk s to i t s s l eep

As the mother ’ s swee t lu l l aby swe l l s so ft and

Of twi l igh t ’ s sweet vo i ce s th e pure st i s h ers,

For emot ions so ho ly no oth er vo i ce s t i rs .

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90TWILIGHT VOICES.

Now th e moon r i s es s l owly and sh i ne s on the tree

On l eaf and on flower,on you and on me .

Of whi ch wi l l you d ream ! ah I do not say so

We ’re t o talk bu t of natu re ’ s s t i l l beau t i e s,you know .

See ou r path has grown b righ ter,

tis moon l igh t ’ s

soft gl ow

Yes,my heart has grown l ighter ! dear fri end , you

must go .

Ju s t walk to th e Spot where th e moon fal l s SO brigh t,

And there we must part w i th—a care l es s good -n igh t .

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THE CONFESSIONAL .

PEN,O heart I thy c l o ses t - chambered ce l l

,

Whose warm and crim soned draperi e s r i s e

and fa l l,

Swayed by the su rgi ng o f each th rob and swel l

Of p leasure or of pai n,—or swee t emot ion

,al l

The hopes that gi l d w i th prom i se you th ’ s b righ t

day,“

And al l th e fears,whose th robb ings warn u s of

decay

Open,and h ide wi th i n thy i nmost ce l l

Forb idden yearn i ngs and each fond des i re,

Each asp i rat i on afte r good,whi ch b l igh ted fel l

L ike summer bu ds,k i s sed by th e sun ’ s fi erce fi re

,

Each budd ing hope ch i l l ed by the i cy breath

Of an u nan sweri ng heart,or one grown col d i n

death .

And oh I i f e’er by hu rtfu l pas sion s swayed

,

If to vai n d ream s We gave too fond a sigh,

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92TH E CON FE SS/ONAL .

If lu red by s in i n sp ec iou s charms arrayed,

Oh,vei l th e s tai n from al l

,save H i s k i nd p i ty i ng

eye,

Who,from th e fou nt o f mercy ’ s bou nd l es s s tore

,

Sa id,

“ Nei ther do I condemn thee ! go and sin no

more I

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94NAME PVRITTE /V IN WA TER .

Emb lem of tru th,pure and d ivi n e

,

For ages may thy waters sh i n e

In j oyou s du ty

Where weary men may freely‘drink

,

Paus i ng erewhi l e to gaz e,and th i nk

Of thy rare beau ty .

Far i n th e l ong ago,a woman fra i l

Came to a we l l—so reads the ta l e

For wate r on ly .

There,res t i ng by the mossy bri nk

,

Sat One , who said ,“Give M e to d ri nk

A trave l l e r lo ne ly .

Then to her wonderi ng,eager ear

H e to ld of “ l i vi ng waters c l ear,

Flow i ng fo rever

That thos e who drank shou ld ne ’er again

Know th i rs t,or weari ne

'

s s,or pai n

,

Never I oh,never I

May each and al l some tru th'

here find,

Whi l e hope and fai th i n humank i nd,

’Ti s ever s ay i ng

Its mus i c fa l l s o n gratefu l ears,

Its work th rough a l l the coming years

IS cease l e s s playing .

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NAME WRITTEN IN WA TER .

9 5

And thus,i n water l e t h i s name

Spark l e wi th eve r-growing fame,

And te l l the s to ry,

How wel l h e loved h i s fe l l ow -man,

How beau ti fu l th e though t to p lan

Th i s th i ng of glo ry .

More e loquen t than marb l e co l d,

More rhythm i cal than words of go ld,

Its murmurs ever

In l i qu id mu s i c’s t i nk l i ng fa l l

,

Wi l l Speak to every heart,whi l e

Wi l l b l es s the giver .

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A CLIMB

To THE SUMM IT O F M T . WACHU SETT .

OU wi l l su re ly remember that morn i ng so

bright,

When the mou ntai n b reez e woo ’d Us to/

c l imb to i t s h e igh t,

Where th e sky brooded o ’er i t a s warm and as b lu e

As th e eye we mos t l ove,ever tender and t rue

On ly c l imb to th e summ i t,thus p rom i sed our

gu id e,

The Vi ew i s en tranc i ng—so vari ed,so wide I

The morn i ng dew s t i l l s park l ed over th e l awn,

Whi l e the gu es t s at the “Moun tai n Hou se ” ta lk ed

pro and con .

Some feared the day prom i sed to be very hot,

Others thought i t m igh t rai n—some were su re i twou l d not .

One sugges ted warm wraps at “ th e top wou ld be

n eeded,

And couns e l l ed s tou t shoes—whi ch advi ce was we l lh eeded .

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We sa t on a log deep ly bu ri ed in fe rns,

Whi le we talked o f Longfe l l ow and Bryan t and

Burn s .

Thu s sped the brigh t momen ts as upward we wen t,

Ti l l we reached th e s tone co ttage that crowns th e

as cen t .

There Monadnock con fron ts you,so d reamy and

b lu e,

H i s gian t dome add i ng a charm to th e V i ew,

Whose out l i n e o f beau ty shows wondrou s ly c l ear’Gai n s t th e b lu e arch of h eaven

,so far

,yet so n ear

,

Reflected from lake l e t s hal f h idden i n green,

With t i ny toy v i l l ages n es t l i ng be tween .

The “Whi te H i l l s are s een l ik e the dream of a

c l oud

We fear to d i spe l them by speak i ng aloud,

And tenderly name them,far Off i n th e haz e

,

AS we speak of som e dear on e j u s t pass ed from ou rgaze

,

Whi l e hushed i s ou r breath ing and d im grows th e

eye,

AS we tu rn from those peak s po i n t i ng s t i l l to the

sky .

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A CLIMB .

99

There are moments i n l i fe where ou r though ts love

to res t,

As we res ted that day on that fa i r mounta i n ’ s cres t,

Where the out look of l i fe grows more bound les s and

free,

As that scene seemed to s t re tch even ou t to th e sea!A del ec tab l e moun t i t mu s t ever remai n

Though I never may see i ts green summi t aga i n .

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LAST HOURS OF DAVID LIVINGSTONE .

JUNGLE wi l d on Afri c ’ s so i l,a braz en sky

o’

erhead,

A group of savage,dusky men around a

dy i ng bed,

Where l ay a gaun t and wast ed form upon a couch

so rude,

Ah ! death ne’e r fou nd so rich a pri z e i n that vas t

so l i tude .

I am dy i ng,fa t efu l r iver—th e d ews are gather i ng

fas t,

Oh,s i ren of my you th fu l d ream s

,I’

ve sough t th ee to

th e l as tYet

,far away e lud i ng s t i l l thy phantom fou n tai n s

l i e,

A mirage gl eam ing fitfu lly before my glaz i ng eye .

Oh Imyst i c , mock i ng s i ren , I have born e thy fe tt e rs

lo ng,

Huggi ng the chai n that bound me as I l i s t ened to

thy song,

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102 LA S T HOURS OF DA VID LIVINGS TONE .

Alas Ib e fore,beh i nd me

,l i e cru el

,scorch i ng sands !

O h I fo r one moment i n thy wave to lave th ese

fevered hand s .

We read th e s tori ed tab l e t s where Karnak’

s t empl es

s tand,

We know why M emnon’

s musi c r i pp l es o ’er th esh i ft i ng sand

Rosetta ’ s s ton e h er secret s yi e l d of Egyp t ’ s wondrou s l o re

Thy secret,migh ty river

,s t i l l ‘

b a ffl es as of yore I

Oh I co ld and grey and far away , Iknow the gran i te

rock s

Are crad l ed where the h eath er d ip s i n cool,s eques

tered l o ck s .Would Icou l d c l imb once more those rock s

,and fee l

th e mountai n ai r

B low o ’e r my b row cares s i ngly,to l i ft my c lammy

hai r .

Those pu rpl e h i l l s o f Scot land are cool w i th fa l l i ng

m i st

Where,s t ro l l i ng th rough th e heath er b loom

,

' I kep t

a l over ’ s t rys t

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'

LAS T HOURS OF DA VID LIVINGS TONE . 10 3

Orwhere , i n happy ch i ldhood , I c l imbed th e i r rug

ged S i d e ,Search i ng through fern and bracken

,where t im i d

rabb i t s h i d e .

I l oved the h i l l s,th e h eath er

,I l oved th e yel l ow

broom,

I l oved the mavi s ’ s i ngi ng above the heath er b loom

But sweeter was th e s i re n ’ s vo i ce,and fai r h er beck

on i ng hand,

That lu red me from my rugged home,my beau

teou s nat iv e l and .

!

I am dyi ng,fa te -fu l r iver—thou hast lu red me to

my doom,

Wei rd Spi ri t of th e desert,e ’ er wrapped in mi s t and

gloom .

Yet hark ! Ihear,Is ee agai n the r i pp l e o f thy sm i l e .

Farewel l,o l d Pharaoh ’ s wondrou s s tream

,oh ! mys

t i c,migh ty N i l e .

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AMERICA TO PRUSSIA z—GREETING .

ON THE MARR IAG E OF PR INC E DE LYNAR TO’

M I SS MAY PARSONS .

P rince De L served’

as Colonel on the staff of the EmperorW i l li amduring the war be tween F rance and P russia . Soon after i ts term inat ionhe was married

,i n Co lumbus

,Oh io

,to the beau t i fu l M iss P arsons .

NOTHER tri umph—O Vi ctor i ou s rea lm I

Thy pri nces m igh ty are i n l ove and war

From grand o ld Kai s er Wi l l i am at th e he lm

h im who robs u s of ou r brighte s t s tar !

Room i n your pri ncely cou rt s I—she goes a qu eenFrom our b road realm bes i d e the west ern sea

,

A land where a l l ou r love l i e s t have ever been

Queen s o f ou r h earts and hom es—and e’e r wi l l b e

Once i n the long ago,from ou r fa i r l and

There wen t a pri nces s reared i n sy lvan glad e .

Old haugh ty England took her by th e hand,

Nor s co rn ed her s imp l e gu i s e—her du sky shade .

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ONLY A WOMAN,WOMANLY .

HE was not very beau t i fu l,nor was sh e very

wi s e,

No bri l l i an t sarcasm curl ed th e l i p,or fl ash

ed from dar i ng eyes

Those earn e st,qu i e t eyes reveal ed a sp i ri t fi rm and

true,

A woman,very woman ly

,was al l sh e seemed to you .

She d i d not daz z l e you wi th W it,nor s i l ence you

wi th words,

L i k e s i lver was h er gen t l e speech,i ts mus i c l i k e a

b i rd ’ s

And when she somet im es s i l en t sat,as was h er own

sweet wi l l,

That “go lden s i l ence more than word s you r wai t

i ng sou l cou ld fi l l .

She d id not s i ng l ik e N i l s son,—yet oft at even t id e

H er songs were s t i l l th e swee te s t charm arou nd the

fi res i de

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ON L Y A WOIIIAN ,I/ VOM AN L Y.

For pure and tender was her vo i ce,i t s soft

siVe t oneCou ld lu re the err i ng wanderer to th i nk of fri end s

at home .

Only a woman,woman ly

,no ange l w i th bright

wi ngs,

To soar above u s i n ou r need,d i sdai n i ng earth l y

th i ngs

Ju s t w i s e enough fo r coun se l,gen t l e

,yet b rave to

Share

You r hopes,you r fears

,you r sorrows

,you r tr iumph

and your care .

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THE TEMPTATION I

T al l comes back agai n IYouth wi th i t s rad iance and its

fl

dewylb loom ,

Its p l easu re, i t s sweet pa i n

Steal o ’er my sen ses l i ke a sweet perfume .

Once more I s it and d ream,

Whi l e w i s t fu l fan c i e s i n to bei ng s tart

And hopes are st i rred wh ich seem

Brigh t as once nes t l ed i n my youth fu l h eart

O nce more the ro sy flu sh

Man t l e s my cheek so long grown co l d and pal e,

Once more th rough twi l igh t ’ s hu sh

Unb idden though ts my wak i ng heart as sai l

O nce more the rad i an t l igh t,

The l ight that n ever was on sea or shore,

Retu rns to cheat my s igh t,

Whi l e reason wh i sp ers—never,n ever more

Reason,my fri end—Igreet

,

Le t thy coo l touch fal l o n m y th robb i ng brai n ,Scho o l i ng my heart to bea t

With s t ead i ed pu l s e ac ros s l i fe ’ s d us ty p la i n

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LISTEN-I

A PLEA FOR THE ORPHAN’ S HOME .

HEN the to i l i ng day i s ove r,

Through the c lo s i ng shadows see

Many t i red foots t ep s pass i ng

Coming home ” to you or m e .

Warmer,brighte r grows th e fireligh t,

Eager l i t t l e faces wai t

By th e wi ndow th rough th e twi l igh t

Watch i ng fo r th e Open gate .

L i t t l e cheek s so soft and rosy

Nes t l e in a fond embrace,

Rest i ng by th e fi re s i de co sy

Ligh ter grows th e weary face .

Thank ou r God such homes are many,

Homes of love so pu re and sweet

E ’ en the ange l s bend i ng lowly,

Fee l the i r hearts wi th p l easu re beat .

Tu rn ing o ft w i th tende r p i ty

To th e many cheerl es s homes

Scatte red th rough ou r bu sy c i ty,

Where no lovi ng fath er comes,

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LIS TEN ! III

.Where no wi s e and patien t moth e r

Wai t s to welcome ach i ng fee t,

Helpl es s s t i l l and wanderi ng ever

Up and down ou r no i sy s t ree t .

Lis ten to th e ange l ’ s s to ry,

As Iheard h im te l l th e tal e

Through the wakefu l n igh t so l on e ly ,Ti l l th e morn i ng s tar grew pal e

Soft.

and low as swee tes t mus i c,

Bend ing o ’er me lovi ngly,

Fathers,mothe rs

,l i s t e n k i n d ly

To th e tal e he to l d to me

Help l es s l i tt l e fe e t are s t ray i ng

Ever from th e Fath er ’ s fo l d .

Friendless little l i p s are pray i ng

She l te r u s from want and co ld .

Pl ead i ng eye s to you are tu rn i ng,

Ask i ng fo r you r he l p and care,

Starvi ng l i t t l e sou l s are yearn i ng

Woman ’ s t ender l ove to share .

I

Li tt l e hands that Shou ld be l earn i ng

Labor ’ s hon es t ga i n s to wi n

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1 1 2 LISTEN /

So on the i r wages w i l l b e earn i ng

In the smoo ther walk s o f s i n

H e lpfu l hand s and h earts are n eed i ng

He lp l e s s hand s to gu ide and teach

Sore and tramp l ed hearts are b l eed i ng

Let the i r wrongs you r p i ty reach .

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1 14“MISSION WORK .

And as Iwalk ed Iwondered

Why I t hat day shou ld mee t

So many ch i l d ren speed i ng

Along that homely s t ree t .Sai d I

,

“ My l i t t l e maiden,

What b ri ngs you al l th i s way,

So many hal f-c lad ch i l d ren

Th i s ch i l ly au tumn day !

Oh ! don ’ t you k now,dear lady

,

The l i t t l e mai den sa id

(The ch i l d so l i k e a p i ctu re,

With th e k erch i ef on h er h ead,

Whi l e th e happy,care l e s s women

Wen t ro l l i ng soft ly by,Fee l i ng no ch i l l i ng breez e s

,

Heedi ng no wintry sky)

There ’ s a room so warm and cheerfu l

Where th e pret ty l ad i e s meet

To work fo r we poor ch i l d ren

Who wander ’ round the s tree t !They give u s n i ce warm cloth i ng

Whi ch th ey teach u s how to make ,They l ove th e poor and fri end l es s ,Love them for J e su s ’ sak e .

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‘MISSION WORK .

1 1 5

He loved th e l i t t l e ch i l d ren

Thes e dear,good lad i es say,

They often te l l u s of H im,

And teach u s how to pray

I’

m su re H e loves our teachers,

Who are so k i nd and good,

So pat ie nt w i th poor ch i l d ren

Who oft are rough and rude .

But do you th i nk,dear lady ,

That Santa C lau s wi l l k now

Of al l thes e fri end ly lad i es

O f me and Su s i e Snow !I th i nk he knew one Chri s tmas

,

One col d and snowy day,

Before my own dear mother d i ed

Or father wen t away .

But I qu i te forgot to te l l you

Of th e very n i ces t th i ng

How we feel so very happy

When we stand up to s i ng,

Whi l e th e mus i c p lays so sweet ly,

Whi l e th e room looks warm and brigh t

We qu i t e forget the wi n ter,

And ou r cheerl es s homes at n igh t .

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“ MISSION WORK .

We s ing of ‘prec iou s j ewe l s,

Brigh t gems fo r J e su s ’ crown,

For even fr i end l es s ch i l d ren

The Saviou r cal l s H i s own

Ju s t now we al l are l earn i ng

A love ly Chri s tmas hymn,

But here we are,dear l a-dy,

Wi l l you come and hear u s s i ng !

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1 1 8 7 EN N IE’

S TROUSSEA U.

And am id al l th i s beau ti fu l dow er

Has crep t i n my offeri ng—a book

It wi l l,l ik e the modest Spri ng flower

,

Be gratefu l fo r on ly a—l ook .

So wi th “ sweet s to th e sweet,deares t J enn i e

,

Wi th love to ou r l ovel i e s t on e,

We must shed one fond tear as we watch you

Outward -bound toward l i fe ’ s sett i ng sun .

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A RECIPE .

W ri tten in Wash ington for The S unday M orning H erald .

AKE a handfu l of wri te rs—a soup con of

th i nk ers

Who,of waters P i er i an wou ld fai n seem

deep dri nk e rs,

A profe s so r o r two of the corp s sc i en t ifi c,

Who talk of Mars ’ moons wi th a j oy b ea tific

Sure no o ther savan t can s tea l ou r Hal l ’ s thunder ,And know that “ ou r l e n s is th e worl d ’ s l ates t

wo nder

A co l l ector or so who has been qu i te a rover,

(To find a rare bug one wi l l s earch the worl d over),Or

,i f Shel l s be the hobby

,wi l l ta l k you to S l umber

Of Un ivalves,b iva lves

,or valves wi thou t num ber !

Some wri ters o f vers e s who m igh t th i nk i t t reason

Shou ld one prai s e th e rhyme no r fathom the reason,

Wi tho u t “ rhyme or reason ” smooth verses give

p l easu re,

When read by sweet l i p s wh i l e res t i ng at l e i su re

On sat i n fau teu i l s i n sal ons l i t erary,

Where cu l tu re and tas te meet,to cry adm irari

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1 20 A RECIPE .

A fai r dame or two wi th whom art i s a pass i o n

One or more o f th e ton to make i t th e fash ion,

With a few extra wi s e ones who sneer at l igh t

dances,

Yet s i t th ro ’ th e sma ’ hours conn i ng romances

And some,too

,alas Iwho was te m idn ight tapers

Whi l e wri t i ng soc i ety gos s i p ” fo r papers,

How bon ny M i s s Gwendo l in e dres s ed at “ th e ger

man,

Or how some superb Madame wore queen ly er

m i n e

A trave l l e r somet imes i s rece ived as a godsend,

With i tem s qu i te fre sh from the far-away world ’ s

e nd,

Thus fu rn i sh i ng top i cs for sprigh t ly d i scu ss i o n

O f Greek or of Tu rk,or the too haugh ty Russ i an .

S i nce a l l th i ngs come up that are on th e worl d ’

s

tap i s

Art,s c i ence

,or pot tery

,each make them happy

These wi s e on es i n conc lave,who se meet i ngs are

week ly,

My rec ipe s ee—wh ich I offe r qu i te meek ly .

The i ngred i en t s are found—wh i l e m ix ing be wary,

If you ’d have i n perfect i o n—A C lub Li te rary .

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TO “THE STAR -SPANGLED BANNER .

W ri tten on the first “ Fourth o f July I’ follow ing the passage by Congress of “The F i fteenth Amendment .

LOAT proud ly,O beaut i fu l ban ner

,to -day I

Let each glori ou s s tar flash with tru thfs

b rightest ray .

You are t ru e to you rse l f,to you r home to th e world

,

Whi le a l l are now free where you r s tri pe s are u n

furl ed

For the ‘s tar- Spangl ed ban ner ’ i n t r iumph doth

wave

O ’er th e land of the free and th e home of the b rave .

Your fo ld s have been c l ean sed bo th by blood and

by fi re

You have draped fo r the grave,son

,brother

,and

s i reThe i r l ives they gave free ly to save you from Sh am e

Float proud ly,O banner

,they d i ed not i n vai n

For “ the star-spangl ed banner can now i ndeed wave

O ’er th e land of the free and the home of the b rave .

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1 24 TO THE STAR—SPANGLED BANNER .

Near th e wal l s of proud Sumter you once were

hu rl ed down

And trampl ed i n dus t wi th a j eer and a frown,

A once nob l e name was thu s ta in ted wi th shame,

Whi l e pu re and un su l l i ed ou r flag floats agai n

Oh I l ong may the star-Spangl ed banner thu s wave,

Where none dare be a tyrant,none need be a S l ave .

D roop a momen t i n sadnes s o ’er Hampton ’ s c l ear

wave,

Where th e Cnnz éor/ono’ sank wi th the nobl e and

brave,

Whi l e l ong o ’e r the wreck waved you r co l o rs so t ru e

E re th ey wen t to the i r res t i n the waters so b lu e .

Float proud ly,O banner I o ’e r land and o ’e r s ea

,

For th e home of the brave i s the home of thefree .

And over th e val l eys where th ick ly are sp read

The green -curta i ned ten t s wh i ch sh e l t er ou r dead ,They s l eep from th e homes of the i r k indred afar ,They d i ed

,that you r beau ty shou ld not lo s e a s tar,

That th roughout every land,over mountai n and sea

,

You shou ld ever -b e hai l ed as the flag of the free .

And far i n th e Wes t d roop low o ’er th e grave

Where re s t s the best fr i end Of th e mas te r and S l ave

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A NATION ’S BIRTHDAY .

AIR S tar-Spangled Banner.

LL hai l to th e day when our flag was u n

fu rl ed

And th e s to ry was to l d of the b i rth of a

nat i on

When our glor iou s stars fi rs t shone on the world,

As th e morn i ng s tars shon e at the dawn of

creat i on,

When fi rs t to th e l igh t,over val l ey and height

,

In i t s b eau ty and grace waved ou r bann er so b righ t

And we ’ l l ha l l ow fo rever as sacred the morn

When th e s to ry was to l d that a nat i on was born .

No hand waved i n tri umph,no Shout s ren t the a i r

,

Though grand was th e scen e when th e pu rpos e

was u ttered

The deed so momen tou s was hal l owed by prayer,

Whi l e afar o ’er th e waters war ’ s thunderi ngs mut

tered .

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A NA TION’

S BIR THDA Y.

But fi rmer th ey grew -fo r daun t l e s s and tru e

Were th e m en wh o fi rs t p l edged to th e Red,White

and Blue

And freemen wi l l ha l low forever the morn

When th e s to ry w a s to ld that a nat i on was born .

N O cheek b lan ched wi th fear,for to do or to die

Was each s tern reso lve at th e Nat i on ’ s bapt i sm

Whi le fi rm was th e hand and undaunted each eye,

As th ey pou red o ’e r th e i r honor tru th ’ s ho l i es t

chri sm,

For earnes t and b rave were the men who thu s gave

Al l th e hope s th at were deares t man ’s b i rth righ t to

save !And freemen s h ou ld hal low as sacred th e mom

When the sto ry was to l d that a nat i on was born .

Long,l o n g wa s th e confl i c t and sharp was th e pain

,

Whi l e th e i r t ru s t was i n God through th e sores taffl i c t i o n

And s t i l l as fo rever i t p roved not i n vai n,

For pea ce cam e at las t w i th i ts sweet bened ict i on .

Wave p roud ly,ye stars Ibright and glori ou s s tars I

We ’ l l we l c ome th e day wi th a thou sand huzzas

For freemen forever shou l d hal low th e mornWhen th e s tory was to l d that a nat i on was born .

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AN ODE .

FOR DECORAT ION DAY .

Sung at Green Lawn Cemete ry,Columbus

,O . ,

May 3 0, 1 8 7 1 .

TUNE S coz z‘S win! lz ae

,etc .

S to this spot our steps we turn,

W i th love each patrio t heart Should burn,

While nameless grave and blazoned urn

We deck w i th tender care .

The past no nobler cause c an show

For truth and righ t they dealt each blow,

And died whi le Struggl ing w i th the foe,

To leave their fame our care .

Bring flowers of rarest form and hue,

Of purest white—of tenderest blue

The sod that wraps the brave and true

Must be fa ir woman’ s care .

For that grand cause how woman prayed,

What sacrifices nobly made,

Trusting—though trembl ing and afraid

In God ’ s great love and care .

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BRING FLOWERS .

Yes,Honor decks the turf that wraps thei r clay .

ROM spring to spring the long grass waves,

It—s tender green is seen by few,

The bending Sky smi les brightly down

W i th none to mark how soft i ts blue !

The robin plume s his crimson breast

H is vesper song rings swee t and clear,

Through the long day the brown thrush sings

With none to lend a l isten ing ear

Yet th is lone spot o f nameless graves

Is guarded by a na t ion ’s care,

By grateful hands its sod was la id ,And consecrated by a prayer

Formen rest here —men brave and true,

M en evermore their country’

s pride,

They gave tha t country a ll they bad

When for her trn z‘fi they fought and di ed

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BRING FLOWERS . 1 3 1

And once each year a na t ion comes

To thi s lone spot of billowy green

While in fa ir woman ’ s graceful hands

A weal th. of rares t flowers i s seen .

W i th saddened eye and tender touch

They deck those graves with gentle care,While music lends her thri l l ing tone

And countless voices fi l l the air

In lofty verse theysing their pra i seAbove those heroes ’ lowly bed

,

And then to si lence and reposeThey leave aga in our honored dead .

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ONE FLOWER FOR OU R SOLDIERS ’

GRAVES.

How sleep the brave who s ink to restW i th all thei r country ’s w ishes blest .

sweet May is here,w i th its long twi l igh t

hours

Its glad laugh ing sun sh ine, its soft weepingshowers

,

Awak ing the bu tterfly—waking the flowersTo strew o

er the brave .

Ah ! l ife i s so full e’en inan imate th ings

S eem to pul sate and move w i th invi s ible w ings,While the butterfly flutters, the wood-robin sings

O’

er the hush of the grave .

Oh I cover them tenderly flowers so fa ir

P our ou t yourfragrance as incense mos t rare

Stir very gen t ly,O sweet summer air

,

The grass o ’er their grave .

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ON THE BALL GIVEN AT THE WHITE

HOU SE ,

FEB. 5 , 1 8 6 2 .

To everyth ing there i s a season,a t ime to mourn

,and a t ime to

dance . ”

ROM afar comes the sound o f a revel to-nIght,And many proud names fi l l a nation ’ s w ide

hall s,

Whi l e fair forms of beauty look radiant and bright

In the weal th of l ight shed from the mirror-decked

wal ls .

A gush of rare music i s fi ll ing the room ,

And merry fee t bound to its w i l d , W i tch ing flow,

While the soft air seems freigh ted wi th summer ’s

fume

As the flower-wrea thed wal tzers s ti l l gl ide to and

P roud mo ther, gayma iden

,oh I pause in your mirth

Is this a fi t t ime for your revel and Show,

Whi le the blood of our fa thers S t i l l mo i s te ns the earth,

And our brothers l ie st iff in the sl ee t'

and the snow !

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BALL A T THE“ WHITE H OUSE .

3 5

Oh I come look w i th me in that cabin’s low room

,

No b'

righ t flowers”

gladden the sufferer’

s eye,

No shaded l ight steal s thro’ the chi l l and the gloom

To the pallet of straw where our sick sold iers l ie .

No woman ’ s soft hand w ipes the death-damp away

Of the dying man dreaming perchance of his home,

While the music ” he hears i s the clash o f the fray,

Or the funeral march of the low muffled drum .

The heart of the nation l ies stricken and sore,

For treason has darkened her promise so bright,And true hearts are tremb l ing on many a shore

,

Lest the star of man ’s hope should be shrouded

n ight.

Oh ! mothers and ma idens, there’ s work for us al l

Leave the feast and the dance for a happier day,S ince our country ’ s brave sons have gone forth at her

ca l l,

For their wants we should Work,for their cause we

should Pray.