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Full text of "Jerusalem, and other poems, juvenile and miscellaneous : including "Life and death," "Here and hereafter," and "The mission of the gospel" ; with a brief memoir of Mrs. Mary Brewster Park"

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FROM   THE  LIBRARY  OF 


REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON.  D.  D. 


BEQUEATHED   BY   HIM   TO 

THE   LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


SCB 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


http://archive.org/details/jerusalemOOpark 


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'  L  NOV  29  1933  * 

J   E    R   U   S    A    iA^LM 

%v&  o%r  |jroms, 

JUVENILE  AND  MISCELLANEOUS, 


"LIFE  AID  DEATH,"  "HERE  AID  HEREAFTER,"  AID 
"THE  MISSION  OF  THE  GOSPEL." 

WITH   A   BRIEF 

Iblcmoti  of  iHrs.  iHarg  33nfoBta  $axk. 

BY  Sy/ 

REV.    ROSWELL    PARK,  D.  D., 

MEMBER   OF    THE    AMERICAN    PHILOSOPHICAL    SOCIETY,    AXD   PRESIDENT    OF    RACINE 
COLLEGE. 


Aut  prodesse  volunt,  aut  delectare  Poetse  ; 
Aut  simul  et  jucunda  et  idonea  dicere  vitae. 
Quicquid  prsecipies,  esto  brevis  ;  ut  cito  dicta 
Percipiant  animi  dociles,  teneantque  fideles. 

Hor.  Art.  Poet. 


NEW    YORK: 
THOMAS     N.     STANFORD 

No.    G37,    BROADWAY. 

1857. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1857, 

By  Roswell  Park, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the 

Southern  District  of  New  York. 


Printed  and  Stereotyped  by  BlLLlN  AND  Brother,  No.  20  North  William  Street. 


TO 

THE    MEMORY 

OF 

302  §m  gcprtefr  SBift, 

ONCE  AN  ANGEL  ON  EARTH,  NOW  A  SAINT  IN  PARADISE  ; 

AND 

THREE  DARLING  CHILDREN, 

VmO    NOW    REST    WITH    HER    IN    OUR    FATHER'S    BLISSFUL    MANSIONS, 

WAITING    FOR    THE    GREAT    CONSUMMATION    OF    THE 

RESURRECTION    MORN  ; 

THESE     PAGES     ARE     MOST     AFFECTIONATELY 
INSCRIBED. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Dedication 3 

A  Brief  Memoir  of  Mrs.  Mary  Brewster  Park 7 

Address  at  the  Funeral  of  Mrs.  Mary  Brewster  Park 19 

Preface 7 27 

Jerusalem 29 

Life  and  Death 81 

Juvenile  and  miscellaneous  Poems — 

Home 114 

Mount  Holyoke 115 

Constant  Devotion 117 

The  Death  Song  of  Logan 119 

The  Vision  of  Life 120 

The  Social  Cup  of  Tea 192 

The  Flower  of  Spring 123 

Solitude  and  Cheerfulness 125 

The  Creation 126 

The  Deluge 128 

Lafayette 130 

The  Landing  of  the  Pilgrims 131 

In  Forest  and  Yv'ildwood 134 

A  Vernal  Evening 135 

The  Sagacious  Hibernian 137 

An  Enigma 141 

Ode  for  the  National  Jubilee 142 

The  Dissipated  Collegian 144 

The  Progress  of  Liberty 150 

Song  of  Friendship 157 

Academic  Address 158 

The  Fire  at  Sea 162 

The  Rainbow 164 

New  Year's  Ode 165 

South  America 167 

The  Requiem 168 

To  a  Goldfinch 170 

Niagara  Falls 172 

The  Garland 176 

Hermit's  Vesper  Hymn 177 

The  Dialectic  Society 179 

The  Sea  and  the  Storm 180 

To  my  Sister 1S2 

To  the  Evening  Star 186 

A  Swiss  Tale " 1S8 

Morning 193 

Evening 194 


6 


CONTENTS. 


Juvenile  and  Miscellaneous  Poems.— Continued.  page 

The  Conjuror's  Song 196 

Elegy 19T 

Isabelle 198 

Cooperstown 206 

To  the  Packet  Ship    *    *    *     209 

The  Genius  of  Romance 210 

The  Last  Prayer  of  Queen  Mary 213 

A  Brother's  Memento 214 

The  Carrier's  Address 216 

A  Lover's  Appeal 221 

The  Sun  has  set 224 

The  Parting 226 

Lutzow's  Wild  Chase 22S 

Another  Enigma 229 

Consolation 230 

Bagatelle 231 

The  Apology 234 

The  Marseilles  Hymn 236 

Canzonet 23S 

I  think  of  thee 240 

The  Communion 241 

Epithalamium 243 

To  my  First-born 246 

The  Mission  of  the  Gospel 248 

For  an  Album 259 

The  Bark  of  Life 260 

The  Two  Dreams  of  Mohammed 263 

To  Little  Clara 266 

Christmas  Eve 26S 

The  Snow 272 

A  Dedication 276 

Wayside  Musings 277 

Fragmentary  Inscriptions 278 

The  Infant  Spirit's  Adieu 280 

Euthanasia 282 

Commencement  Hymn 283 

A  Christmas  Carol 2S4 

In  Memoriam 287 

The  Bible 290 

Threnodia 291 

Palinthrenodia 294 

Hymn  of  Redemption 295 

Here  and  Hereafter .297 

Lonely  Hours 303 

My  Absent  Little  Son 304 

The  Profession 306 

Resignation 807 

Notes  to  Jerusalem i 


%  Drkf  Uttmoir 


MRS.    MARY    BREWSTER    PARK. 


It  is  with  deeply  mingled  feelings  of  pleasant  and 
painful  emotion,  that  the  author  of  this  little  volume 
attempts  a  brief  sketch  of  the  life  and  character  of  a 
departed,  but  more  than  ever  beloved  wife ;  to  whose 
memory  these  pages  are  devoted.  Pleasant  are  the  re- 
miniscences of  her  beauty,  her  loveliness,  and  her  de- 
voted affection  : — but  painful,  inexpressibly  painful,  the 
consciousness  of  her  loss,  and  of  the  loss  of  those  dear 
children,  who  followed  her  so  speedily  to  the  grave,  and 
to  the  gates  of  Paradise,  leaving  many  friends  to  mourn. 
Although  her  own  native  modesty  would  have  shrunk 
from  a  notice  like  this,  as  the  violet  seeks  the  shade ; 
yet  the  writer  feels  that  justice,  alike  to  herself  and  to 
the  world,  requires  that  her  many  virtues  should  be 
commemorated,  as  an  example  and  encouragement,  both 
to  the  mothers  and  daughters  of  our  highly  favored 
land.     The  writer  is  aware  of  the  delicacy  of  his  task  ; 


8  A    BRIEF    MEMOIR    OF 

and  will  endeavor  not  to  weary  the  reader's  patience  by- 
long  details  or  selfish  display  ;  but  simply  to  perform 
his  duty,  and  bring  his  task  to  a  close. 

Mary  Brewster  Baldwin  was  born  in  Woburn,  Mas- 
sachusetts, on  the  16th  of  January,  in  the  year  of  our 
Lord  1815.  Her  paternal  grandfather,  Loammi  Bald- 
win, was  the  engineer  who  constructed  the  Middlesex 
canal,  leading  from  the  Merrimack  river  at  Chelmsford, 
to  Boston  harbor ; — the  first  canal  of  any  considerable 
length  in  the  United  States.  It  was  completed  in  1808 ; 
and  was  then  regarded  as  a  wonderful  work  of  art 
though  now  superseded  by  the  Boston  and  Lowell  rail- 
road. Her  father,  Benjamin  Franklin  Baldwin,  was 
also  a  successful  civil  engineer ;  and  after  serving  as  a 
militia  officer  in  the  last  war  with  Great  Britain,  and 
assisting  in  fortifying  and  defending  Dorchester  Heights, 
he  was  engaged  by  the  State  of  North  Carolina,  in  im- 
proving the  navigation  of  the  Roanoke  and  other  rivers, 
for  some  time  previously  to  his  death,  which  took  place 
in  1822.  Her  uncle  and  guardian,  Loammi  Baldwin, 
Esq.,  became  still  more  distinguished  as  a  civil  engineer ; 
and  was  entrusted  by  the.  United  States  Government 
with  the  construction  of  the  Dry  Docks  in  the  Navy 
Yards  at  Charlestown,  Massachusetts,  and  Gosport,  Vir- 
ginia ;  which  works  he  had  satisfactorily  completed  be- 
fore his  death,  in  1838.  These  works,  at  the  time  of 
their  completion,  were  unsurpassed  by  any  similar  struc- 
tures in  the  world.  It  may  be  permitted  to  add  that 
Mrs.  Park's  surviving  uncles  have  well  sustained  the 
honor  of  the  family,  in  the  same  noble  profession. 

Tier  maternal  grandfather  was  Benjamin  Coolidge, 
Esq,,  a  highly  respectable  merchant  of  Boston,  who  do 


MRS.    MARY    BREWSTER    PARK. 


parted  long  since  to  his  rest ; — but  her  mother,  whose 
maiden  name  was  Mary  Carter  Coolidge,  still  survives, 
to  mourn  her  irreparable  loss.  Under  such  auspices 
Miss  Baldwin  passed  her  early  years,  enjoying  the  ad- 
vantages of  refined  and  intelligent  society ;  and  at  a 
suitable  age  she  attended,  first,  a  popular  young  ladies' 
seminary  in  Groton,  Massachusetts ;  after  that,  another 
in  Medford ;  and  finally  completed  her  scholastic  educa- 
tion in  Boston,  at  the  Masonic  Temple,  and  in  the 
Mount  Vernon  school,  which  then  enjoyed  the  highest 
reputation,  under  the  charge  of  Mr.  Abbot.  With  such 
advantages,  of  course  she  acquired  not  only  the  rudi- 
ments of  substantial  learning,  but  the  various  accom- 
plishments which  adorn  and  distinguish  the  higher  walks 
of  life.  Among  these  accomplishments,  her  skill  in  or- 
namental and  needle-work  was  remarkable ;  and  it  en- 
abled her,  in  after  years,  to  gratify  many  friends  by 
presents,  of  her  own  handiwork,  which  are  now  valued 
as  precious  mementos  of  the  dear  departed.  Near  the 
close  of  her  school  days,  she  was  attacked  by  a  most 
alarming  fever,  and  was  long  in  a  very  critical  state ; 
but  her  life  was  mercifully  preserved. 

Her  character  was  easily  and  naturally  developed  into 
one  of  rare  symmetry,  truthfulness,  and  loveliness.  It 
was  remarked  by  her  guardian,  who  was  to  her  as  a 
father,  that  by  all  the  numerous  attentions  which  she 
had  received,  she  was  never  unduly  excited  nor  elated ; 
— and  it  was  most  appropriately  said  by  her  step- 
father, Wyman  B.  Richardson,  Esq.,  on  the  evening  of 
her  marriage,  that  "  having  watched  her  from  her  child- 
hood, he  had  never  known  her  to  say  any  thing  which  he 
wished  unsaid,  or  to  do  any  thing  which  he  wished  un- 


10  A    BRIEF    MEMOIR    OF 

done."  Well  does  the  writer  recall  his  first  meeting 
with  her,  at  a  soiree  given  by  Mrs.  Governor  Everett, 
in  Charlestown ;  and  feel  how  deeply  he  was  impressed 
by  her  beauty-  and  gracefulness,  crowned  by  such  intel- 
ligence, dignity,  and  modesty,  as  confer  on  beauty  its 
highest  charm.  Perchance  the  uniform  of  a  young  offi- 
cer of  the  United  States  Engineers  may  have  helped  to 
awaken  a  personal  interest; — at  least  the  acquaintance 
soon  ripened  to  intimacy  ;  and  on  the  28th  of  December, 
1836,  she  was  married  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  William  Cros- 
well,  to  the  partner  of  her  choice,  who  had  then  resigned 
his  commission  in  the  army,  and  become  the  Professor 
of  Natural  Philosophy  and  Chemistry,  in  the  University 
of  Pennsylvania. 

Soon  after  her  consequent  removal  to  Philadelphia, 
Mrs.  Park  devoted  herself  unreservedly  to  the  duties  of 
religion;  and  received  the  rite  of  confirmation,  in  St. 
Peter's  church,  under  the  ministry  of  the  Reverend 
Doctor,  now  Bishop,  De  Lancey.  Here  the  first  years 
of  her  wedded  life  were  pleasantly  passed,  amid  the  lux- 
uries of  choice  reading,  and  congenial  society.  The 
summer  vacations  were  chiefly  spent  in  journeying,  and 
visiting  relatives  and  friends;  and  the  winter  evenings 
in  attending  lectures  and  concerts,  or  in  receiving  and 
returning  the  civilities  which  belonged  to  her  station  : — 
nor  was  she  then  unmindful  of  charity  and  the  poor.  She 
highly  esteemed  the  ministry  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Oden- 
heimer,  who  succeeded  to  the  rectorship  of  St.  Peter's  ; 
and  was  ever  ready,  at  all  seasons,  to  attend  the  services 
of  the  church.  Without  aspiring  to  shine  in  fashionable 
life,  she  was  nevertheless  the  light  and  the  charm  of  a 
social  circle  who  could  well  appreciate  her  worth.     The 


MRS.    MARY    BREWSTER    PARK.  11 

liberty  is  here  taken  of  mentioning  the  names  of  Mrs. 
Lawrence.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Donnaldson,  and  the  families  of 
Mrs.  Commodore  Bainbridge,  and  James  S.  Smith.  Esq., 
as  among  the  kindest  and  most  disinterested  friends 
whose  intimacy  she  was  privileged  to  enjoy,  while  resid- 
ing in  Philadelphia.  It  was  a  remark  made  by  a  Chris- 
tian lady,  of  habitual  candor,  that  Mrs.  Park,  when  a 
young  bride,  "was  the  loveliest  person  that  she  had  ever 
seen." 

When  providential  circumstances  led  the  writer  to  re- 
sign his  professorship,  and  to  commence  the  study  of 
theology,  with  a  view  to  enter  the  ministry  of  the  Pro- 
testant Episcopal  Church,  she  cheerfully  acquiesced  in 
the  change ;  and  during  a  year's  residence  at  Burlington, 
New  Jersey,  she  gained  many  new  friends,  without  losing 
any  of  those  whom  she  had  previously  won.  When 
her  husband,  declining  the  offer  of  a  professorship  in  the 
University  of  Indiana,  and  other  overtures,  accepted  the 
rectorship  of  Christ  Church,  Pomfret,  Connecticut,  his 
chief  inducement  to  do  so  was,  that  she  might  once 
more  enjoy  the  society  of  her  mother  and  sisters,  then 
residing  there.  How  faithfully  she  devoted  herself  to 
the  various  duties  of  a  pastor's  wife ;  and  how  arduous 
her  duties  became  after  the  founding  of  Christ  Church 
Hall,  in  Pomfret,  as  a  family  boarding-school,  many  sad 
hearts  can  abundantly  testify.  In  building  the  parson- 
age and  school-house,  the  Ladies'  Sewing  Society  contri- 
buted a  large  portion  of  the  means;  and  in  all  their 
labors  and  efforts,  she  was  confessedly  the  foremost. 
At  the  same  time,  she  was  ever  ready  to  watch  at  the 
bed-side  of  the  sick,  and  minister  to  their  wants,  not  only 
in  her  own  family,  but  in  all  the  neighborhood  around, 


12  A    BRIEF    MEMOIR    OF 

and  in  all  ranks  of  society.  To  Mrs.  Whistler,  "who 
came  to  reside  in  Pomfret  for  a  season,  after  the 
death  of  her  husband,  Major  Whistler,  at  St.  Peters- 
burgh  in  Russia,  the  writer  would  acknowledge  simi- 
lar obligations,  for  her  invaluable  assistance  during 
the  very  dangerous  illness  of  his  only  surviving 
daughter.  This  trial  was  rendered  the  more  severe, 
and  its  result  the  more  grateful,  by  the  previous  loss 
of  a  darling  babe,  whose  mortal  remains  still  rest  in 
the  churchyard  in  Pomfret,  beneath  the  "  shadow  of  the 
cross." 

To  relieve  Mrs.  Park  from  her  most  onerous  duties, 
and  heaviest  cares,  was  one  of  the  motives  which  led  her 
husband  to  resign  his  pleasant  parish,  and  to  accept  the 
presidency  of  Racine  College.  On  her  consequent  re- 
moval to  a  western  home,  in  November,  1852,  she  car- 
ried with  her  the  same  missionary  spirit  which  had 
already  sent  forward  valuable  offerings  to  several  feeble 
parishes  in  the  West.  Here  she  was  cordially  welcomed 
by  numerous  friends,  whose  kind  attentions  soon  showed 
how  highly  they  esteemed  her.  Amid  various  trials, 
she  faithfully  sustained  and  encouraged  her  husband  in 
striving  to  build  up  a  new  seminary  of  Christian  educa- 
tion ;  until  her  strength  rapidly  gave  way,  during  a  very 
sultry  and  a  very  anxious  summer ;  and  she  was  soon 
summoned  to  her  rest.  This  event  she  had  evidently 
contemplated,  as  possible,  if  not  probable ;  and  for  it 
she  was  calmly  prepared.  When  roused,  on  the  night 
of  her  death,  by  the  startling  announcement  that  she 
could  not  probably  live  till  morning,  her  simple  reply 
was,  "Must  I  go  so  soon?"  and  to  this  she  added, 
"  Then  I  shall  go  to  see  little  Clara !" — alluding  to  the 


MRS.    MARY    BREWSTER    PARK.  13 

darling  babe  which  she  had  laid  in  the  grave,  several 
years  previously,  in  Pomfret.  Her  saddest  exclamation 
was.  "  My  poor  children  !"  feeling  that  they  were  to  be 
left  motherless,  and  so  young !  When  allusion  was 
made  to  her  passing  the  dark  river,  she  observed,  "I 
hope  that  my  thread  will  be  found  bright !"  an  expres- 
sion which  those  wTill  best  understand,  who  have  read 
the  little  work  referred  to.  When  asked  if  she  would 
receive  the  communion,  she  at  first  replied  that  "  she 
was  not  worthy ;"  but  on  being  assured  and  encouraged, 
she  ate  of  that  bread,  and  drank  of  that  cup  for  the  last 
time,  until  ste  should  eat  and  drink  of  them  anew,  in 
our  heavenly  Father's  kingdom.  She  left  messages  of 
love  to  various  relatives  and  friends ;  and  receiving  a 
mother's  parting  blessing,  she  bestowed  her  own,  with 
a  parting  kiss  and  embrace,  on  each  of  her  dear  children. 
Her  last  thoughts  were  more  for  her  loved  ones  than  for 
herself;  and  among  her  last  words  were  expressions  of 
trust  in  her  Saviour.  She  requested  that  all  might  be 
quiet  at  the  end ;  and  her  lips  were  heard  whispering  in 
earnest. prayer,  till  the  last  brief  struggle,  which  closed 
them,  to  open,  on  earth,  no  more  forever.  Though  her 
sufferings  had  been  great,  her  death  was  serene ;  "  for  so 
He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep."  Hers  was  a  martyr 
spirit,  meet  for  a  martyr's  crown. 

Mrs.  Park  died  at  her  residence  in  Racine,  on  the 
morning  of  the  23d  of  October,  1854.  She  left  four 
surviving  children ;  the  youngest  being  an  infant  son, 
which  was  only  eight  days  old  at  her  death,  and  was 
baptized  at  its  mother's  funeral.  This  precious  babe,  and 
a  darling  daughter  have  since  been  removed,  possibly  at 
her  anxious  intercession ;  and  taken  from  this  world  of 


]4  A    BRIEF    MEMOIR    OF 

sin  and  suffering,  to  the  mansions  of  eternal  rest,  and  to 
the  bosom  of  their  sainted  mother ;  where  "  their  angels 
do  always  behold  the  face  of  our  Father  who  is  in 
heaven."  Of  three  dear  departed  children,  and  of  her 
who  gave  her  own  life  for  theirs,  brief  mementos  will 
be  found  amtfng  the  following  poems.  The  daughter 
and  son  who  are  spared  to  a  doubly  bereaved  husband 
and  father,  bear  the  names  of  their  respective  parents. 
An  only  paternal  brother,  Loammi  Baldwin,  Esq.,  of 
Naples,  Illinois,  soon  followed  Mrs.  Park  to  the  man- 
sions of  rest :  but  a  dearly  beloved  sister,  Clara  Coolidge, 
is  among  the  mourners ;  to  whom,  and  to  iier  husband, 
Dr.  Lewis  Williams,  of  Pomfret,  Connecticut,  the  writer 
desires  to  pay  the  tribute  of  more  than  brotherly  love, 
reciprocating  more  than  brotherly  kindness.  Mrs.  Park 
left  also  a  younger  maternal  brother  and  sister;  Mr. 
Wyman  B.  Richardson,  of  North  Danvers,  Mass. ;  and 
Mrs.  Catharine  C.  Phinney,  wife  of  Mr.  George  P. 
Phinney,  of  Columbus,  Adams  Co.,  Illinois.  They  also 
were  very  dear  to  her;  and  no  less  so  was  her  aunt, 
Mrs.  Catharine  Baldwin,  of  Charlestown,  Mass.,  now  the 
widow  of  her  guardian,  to  whom  she  was  as  a  daughter, 
from  childhood  to  life's  latest  hour.  Nor  should  the 
kindness  be  forgotten  of  her  surviving  uncles,  James  F. 
Baldwin,  Esq.,  of  Boston,  Mass. ;  and  George  R.  Bald- 
win, Esq.,  now  Chief  Engineer  of  the  City  Water  Works 
of  Quebec,  in  Canada. 

The  writer  will  not  trust  to  his  own  feelings  nor  to 
his  judgment,  in  portraying  the  character  of  his  lamented 
wife  ;  but  will  close  this  brief  memoir  with  a  few  extracts 
from  letters,  in  which  sympathizing  friends  have  done  no 
more  than  justice  to  one  of  the  loveliest  and  purest  of 


MRS.    MARY    BREWSTER    PARK.  15 

mortal  race ;  of  whom  a  husband  and  a  mother  can  alike 
say,  that  she  never  caused  them  grief,  save  when  she 
drooped  and  died.  A  dearly  beloved  aunt,  in  a  letter  of 
condolence  on  the  death  of  Mrs.  Park,  writes :  "  Her 
purity  of  heart,  and  her  affectionate  disposition,  made 
her  a  most  lovely  companion ;  and  it  may  truly  be  said 
of  her  that  she  was  '  unspotted  from  the  world.'  Hers 
was  a  most  perfect  character ;  and  I  loved  her  as  my  own 
child.  She  was  ever  ready  to  do  all  in  her  power  to 
make  me  happy  ;  and  to  her  noble  nature  selfishness  was 
unknown.  Loving  and  beloved,  she  passed  the  days  of 
her  youth  in  acquiring  those  useful  and  ornamental  ac- 
complishments which  she  so  beautifully  practiced,  in 
later  days,  for  the  benefit  of  herself  and  her  friends.  I 
have  several  beautiful  specimens  of  her  handiwork, 
tokens  of  her  kind  remembrance,  and  affectionate  regard, 
which  I  now  cherish  as  sacred  relics — the  work  of  .those 
dear  hands  that  can  work  no  more."  A  sister  of  the 
writer  says,  "  I  shall  never  forget  her  kindness  to  us  as 
a  family.  Notwithstanding  her  superiority,  she  became 
as  one  of  us,  ever  trying  to  do  us  good,  and  manifesting 
her  love  to  us  not  only  in  word  but  in  deed.  Heaven 
has  now  another  attraction  for  us,  since  our  dear  Mary 
is  there."  Another  sister  adds,  "  Was  she  not  always 
one  of  us  %  always  doing  something  for  our  comfort  or 
improvement  %  not  with  her  hands  only,  but  with  her 
heart ;  which  was  full  of  love,  as  God  is  love !  I  trust 
she  is  with  Him,  now,  and  has  entered  into  the  joy  of 
her  Lord!"  A  lady,  whose  acquaintance  with  Mrs. 
Park  began  in  Pomfret,  writes  of  her :  "  I,  too,  mourn 
the  loss  of  a  dearly  loved  and  valued  friend,  whom  I 
always  thought  to  be  too  good  for  this  world.     And 


16 


A.    BRIEF    MEMOIR    OF 


though  I  must  grieve  for  myself  and  others,  yet  I  love  to 
muse  on  her  eternal  gain  in  that  spirit  land,  where,  with 
her  own  dear  little  Clara,  she  now  enjoys  happiness,  far, 
far  beyond  all  earthly  measure.  I  do  not  think  she  ever 
knew  the  extent  of  her  influence  over  me,  nor  how  1 
prized  every  expression  of  love  and  confidence  so  sweetly 
bestowed."  Another  lady  writes  from  Pomfret :  "  The 
news  of  Mrs.  Park's  death  was  a  sad  blow  to  our  little 
church ;  and  we  could  scarcely  believe  that  she  who  had 
so  long  cheered  and  assisted  us,  both  by  word  and  deed, 
had  gone  from  earth,  and  left  us  lonely.  Her  many 
works  of  love,  however,  bring  her  constantly  before  us ; 
and  none  more  forcibly  than  the  church  yard  which  she 
took  so  much  pleasure  in  beautifying,  and  where  rests 
her  little  Clara,"  Says  a  brother  clergyman :  "  It  seems 
but  yesterday,  when  I  was  at  your  home,  in  your  old 
parish — your  quiet  Connecticut  home.  Your  wife  was 
there,  with  her  silent  energy,  overlooking,  arranging,  and 
regulating,  all  the  concerns  of  your  then  numerous  house- 
hold. I  see  her  now,  with  the  pleasant  smile,  the  kindly 
word,  and  that  graceful  efficiency  which-  so  admirably 
characterized  her ;  and  I  little  thought  that  she  and  three 
dear  children  would  so  soon  be  sleeping,  to  wake  no 
more  until  the  resurrection  morn.  But,  dear  brother, 
they  are  all  in  heaven,  now,  or  in  its  ante-chamber,  para- 
dise." And,  finally,  a  young  friend,  once  a  pupil  and 
inmate,  writes :  "  Her  kind  and  tender  care  I  have  felt 
when  most  needing  them ;  and  the  impress  of  her  exam- 
ple, and  her  deep-flowing  love,  have  left  their  mark, 
never  to  be  erased.  In  view  of  all  this,  and  of  that  silent 
but  fervent  piety,  which  was  only  seen  in  its  fullness  by 
those  who  knew  her  best ;  though  the  surge  of  grief  must 


MRS.    MARY    BREWSTER    PARK.  17 

have  way,  yet,  in  heart,  for  her  we  cannot  grieve  :  ours 
is  the  loss  ;  hers,  the  gain." 

And  now,  best  Beloved,  once  more  farewell ! — a  sweet, 
though  sad  farewell !  And  oh  that  I  may  be  permit- 
ted to  meet  thee,  and  all  our  dear  ones,  in  Paradise ; 
and  be  near  thee  at  the  last  great  day ;  through  the  mer- 
its and  mercy  of  our  blessed  Saviour !  "  Many  daugh- 
ters have  done  virtuously  ;  but  thou  excellest  them  all !" 
2* 


DELIVERED   AT 

st.  luke's  church,  raclxe,  wis.,  October  25th,  1S54, 

AT    THE    FUNERAL    OF 

MRS.   MARY   BREWSTER   PARK. 


REV.  JOSEPH  H.  NICHOLS,  A.  M., 

RECTOR  OF  THE  PARISH. 


We  all  assemble  this  day,  my  brethren,  as  mourners. 
Not  alone  a  husband  bereaved  of  the  beloved  wife  of 
his  bosom,  and  an  aged  parent  of  a  dutiful  and  most 
filial  daughter,  and  a  group  of  children  of  a  tender  and 
affectionate  mother,  not  these  alone,  though  the  chief 
ones,  are  the  mourners  here  present.  You,  people  of 
my  charge,  have  also  your  tears  to  shed.  And  I,  your 
pastor,  have  mine.  God  in  his  wisdom  has  smitten  us 
all  in  a  tender  place ;  and  while  we  kiss  the  hand  that 
sends  the  chastisement,  we  meet  here  in  this  sacred 
temple  to  mingle  our  sympathies  together,  to  comfort 
each  other,  and  to  gather  that  strength  and  patience  and 
submission  which  the  blessed  Gospel  alone  inspires ; 
and  to  learn  from  her  whose  mortal  form  is  before  us ; 


20 


FUNERAL    ADDRESS. 


where  so  much  virtue,  piety,  and  worth,  were  once  in- 
sphered,  ere  we  lay  it  in  the  tomb,  how  to  live  and  how 
to  die ! 

She  whose  premature  and  unexpected  removal  from 
her  family  and  from  society,  we  so  deeply  lament,  I  can 
say  without  fear  of  contradiction,  was  a  true  Christian 
lady.  Of  honorable  parentage,  well  educated,  gentle  in 
manners,  she  added  to  a  natural  refinement  of  heart  that 
higher  and  chaster  delicacy  which  nothing  but  Christian 
principle  and  the  performance  of  Christian  duty  can  be- 
stow. As  a  clergyman's  wife,  she  knew  what  became 
her;  and  though  affable  and  courteous  to  all,  she  al- 
lowed no  dictation  as  to  what  she  should  or  should  not 
do,  but  followed  that  line  of  conduct  which  her  own 
native  good  sense,  enlightened  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  told 
her  was  best  and  right.  As  the  wife  of  a  parish  priest, 
while  she  was  ready  to  suggest  or  to  carry  out  every 
good  work,  while  she  had  an  open  heart  and  an  open 
hand  for  the  poor,  while  she  did  what  she  could  for  the 
far-distant  missionary  at  his  solitary  post  of  duty  in  our 
own  or  in  foreign  lands,  she  felt  that  her  own  true 
sphere,  like  every  woman's  sphere,  was  her  home.  She 
felt  that  she  was  the  helpmate  of  her  husband,  and  that 
a  sacred  obligation  was  resting  upon  her  to  make  his 
household  hearth  pleasant  to  him ;  to  render  cheerfully 
the  hospitalities  of  his  mansion ;  to  study  his  comfort ; 
to  more  than  divide  with  him  the  training  up  of  their 
children,  and  by  her  own  order  and  method  at  home,  to 
conduce  to  the  greater  usefulness  of  her  partner  abroad ; 
and  by  being  herself  the  faithful  shepherd  over  her  own 
little  flock  within  the  domestic  fold,  to  strengthen  the 
hands,  to  ease  the  burthens,  to  lighten  the  cares  of  him 


FUNERAL    ADDRESS.  21 

who  was  the  shepherd  of  that  spiritual  flock  over  which 
God  had  appointed  him. 

Such  was  she  as  a  clergyman's  wife  in  that  distant 
village  of  New  England  which  was  her  husband's  first 
and  only  parish,  which  parish  from  a  low  and  almost 
extinct  condition  he  revived  and  built  up ;  and  in  the 
successful  raising  of  which  with  very  small  and  feeble 
materials,  she  was  an  efficient,  a  judicious,  a  cheerful 
and  an  untiring  handmaid  and  helper.  There  she  was 
universally  beloved  and  honored,  there  she  will  be  ever 
tenderly  remembered;  and  now  that  she  is  no  more, 
will  be  fondly  mourned  over  as  one  who  combined  in 
herself,  to  a  rare  degree,  the  gifts  and  graces  that  should 
adorn  a  woman. 

And  when  in  the  ordering  of  God's  Providence,  her 
husband  resigned  his  pastoral  charge,  and  removed  to 
these  western  shores,  and  entered  upon  the  high  and  re- 
sponsible office  of  President  of  Racine  College,  though 
her  sphere  became  a  new  and  wider  one,  she  filled  it 
well.  As  you  all  have  seen  and  known,  she  shone  in 
her  orbit.  She  was  the  dignified  mistress  of  her  man- 
sion, and  gracefully  performed  the  honors  of  her  station. 
Kind  to  her  neighbors,  ever  given  to  hospitality,  glad  to 
welcome  the  clerical  brethren  for  their  office  and  their 
Master's  sake,  ever  doing  good  to  somebody  in  a  modest 
and  quiet  way ;  in  the  cold  and  inclemency  of  winter 
anxious  to  supply  the  poor  with  food,  and  raiment,  and 
fuel ;  always  showing  a  deep  and  maternal  interest  in 
the  college  student ;  literary  in  her  tastes,  and  an  ardent 
admirer  of  all  that  was  sublime  and  beautiful  in  nature, 
and  graceful  in  art,  she  grew  more  and  more  conspicu- 
ous in  the  new  field  of  dutv  in  which  she  moved. 


22  FUNERAL    ADDRESS. 

In  ceasing  to  be  the  pastor  and  the  rector's  wife,  and 
becoming  a  simple  parishioner,  I  found  her  a  model, 
which  would  to  God,  every  female  of  my  charge  would 
follow.  Her  piety  was  deep,  and  it  was  therefore  cheer- 
ful, modest,  and  consistent.  It  was,  too,  always  devis- 
ing something  good  for  the  church,  and  was  thoroughly 
practical.  She  did  not  talk  much  about  what  she  was 
going  to  do,  or  what  ought  to  be  done,  but  she  acted. 
Having  her  full  share  of  domestic  duties  to  occupy  her, 
she  ever  found  time  for  doing  something  for  our  Zion. 
But  for  her  zeal  when  others  were  cold ;  but  for  her  re- 
solution when  others  were  relaxing ;  but  for  her  steady, 
undaunted  perseverance  when  others  were  putting  on 
discouraging  looks  and  uttering  discouraging  words, — 
of  which  class  there  are  too  many  who  afflict  and  dis- 
honor every  congregation,  and  mortify  every  pastor, — 
but  for  these  noble  and  generous  qualities  in  this  true 
daughter  of  the  church,  the  recent  graceful  improve- 
ments in  this  holy  temple  would  have  scarcely  been 
begun  or  matured,  however  long  and  earnestly  your 
pastor  might  have  demanded  them.  In  coming  to  the 
west,  she  did  not  lay  aside,  as  so  many  do,  her  eastern 
energy,  promptness,  and  determination  to  carry  through 
what  her  judgment  told  her  was  right,  and  what  her 
church  needed,  whether  its  temporal  or  spiritual  inter- 
ests were  concerned.  Would  that  I  had  more  like  her ! 
Ready  to  plan,  ready  to  do,  ready  to  give,  ready  to  go 
on  to  the  end,  ready  to  strengthen  her  clergyman's 
hands  and  not  weaken  them,  in  every  scheme  and  meas- 
ure for  the  sure  building  up  of  God's  kingdom  here 
and  wherever  immortal  souls  are  to  be  nurtured  and 
saved ! 


FUNERAL    ADDRESS.  23 

So  she  lived.  And  how  she  died,  I  might  tell  you, 
with  all  the  afflicting  particulars.  But  they  are  too 
touching,  too  sacred  for  public  recital.  I  will  only  say 
that  when  the  painful  task  devolved  upon  her  husband 
to  announce  to  her,  that  she  could  live  only  a  few  hours 
more,  the  intelligence  took  her  by  surprise,  but  it  did 
not  alarm  or  discompose  her.  She  was  perfectly  calm 
and  serene.  One  by  one,  she  tenderly  bade  farewell  to 
those  whom  she  most  fondly  loved,  and  tranquilly  took 
her  departure  for  the  heavenly  country. 

The  sudden  removal  of  such  a  woman,  so  discreet  and 
exemplary,  so  useful  in  her  family,  in  society,  and  in 
the  household  of  God,  is  a  loss  indeed.  Her  husband, 
her  children,  her  surviving  parent,  her  absent  sisters  and 
brothers,  her  church,  her  pastor,  will  miss  her  more  and 
more.  As  one  intent  upon  life's  daily  duties,  or  kneel- 
ing before  this  altar,  we  shall  see  her  no  longer.  But 
she  has  gone  to  higher  and  holier  enjoyments  than  earth 
bestows.  She  has  entered  upon  that  world  where  she 
will  enjoy  the  new  ministrations  of  the  temple  not  made 
with  hands.  Disburdened  of  the  flesh,  her  spirit  is 
walking  in  the  Paradise  of  the  Saviour,  blessed,  yet 
waiting  for  the  perfect  consummation  and»bliss  both  of 
body  and  soul  in  God's  eternal  glory,  through  Christ 
Jesus  her  Lord.  With  the  leaf  of  autumn  fading  and 
foiling  in  hectic  glory,  has  she  faded  in  spiritual  beauty 
away  from  our  sight,  to  be  gathered  to  the  tomb.  But 
as  sure  as  that  leaf  will  be  renewed  in  another  spring, 
after  the  chill,  and  torpor,  and  barrenness  of  winter,  and 
as  sure  as  the  parent  branch  will  put  on,  in  a  few  more 
months,  a  new  and  fresher  verdure  in  the  resurrection 
of  nature,  so  will  her  form  in  the  resurrection  of  the 


24  FUNERAL    ADDRESS. 

last  day,  rise  up  glorified  from  the  dust,  reunited  to  her 
spirit,  never  more  to  fade,  but  to  bloom  in  grace  and 
beauty  forever  in  the  everlasting  spring  of  Heaven. 

We  have  all  then,  brethren,  much  to  comfort  us  in 
our  sorrow.  We  have  comfort  in  the  pure  and  lovely 
example  of  her  whom  we  mourn.  We  have  comfort  in 
the  Holy  Scriptures  given  for  our  learning;  given  to 
teach  us  that  all  who  live  and  who  die  in  the  Lord,  shall 
rise  triumphant  in  Him ;  and  washed  in  the  blood  of 
Him,  the  lamb  slain  upon  the  cross,  yet  conqueror  over 
death,  and  victor  over  the  tomb,  shall  reign  with  him 
forever. 

Let  us  go  through,  then,  the  melancholy  obsequies  of 
this  day,  sorrowing  as  becomes  us  as  men  and  Christians, 
but  not  despairing ;  bowed  down,  but  not  unnerved  and 
unfitted  for  life's  duties.  In  the  weakness  that  may  over- 
come us,  God  will  doubtless,  in  due  time,  perfect  his 
strength.  And  that  strength  we  all  need.  For  life  has 
its  imperative  duties,  and  they  must  be  discharged. 
We  have  all  duties  to  our  families,  to  our  church,  to 
society,  to  our  professions  and  our  country ,  and  to  per- 
form all  of  them  well,  and  in  their  due  proportion,  is 
religion.  Whatever  our  hands  find  to  do,  in  our  several 
spheres  of  action,  God  himself  requires  that  we  shall  do 
it  with  our  might.  We  must  not,  therefore,  any  of  us 
yield  too  much  to  our  griefs.  Let  us  honor  the  dead, 
let  us  lay  them  in  the  tomb  with  nature's  involuntary 
tears,  but  let  us  not  forget  the  living.  St.  Paul  calls 
the  Christian  life  a  warfare.  And  so  it  is.  It  is  one 
perpetual  battle.  We  are  all  the  time  on  the  march, 
and  our  companions  in  arms  are  all  the  time  falling  at 
our  side.     We  may  miss  them,  and  we  may  mourn  for 


FUNERAL    ADDRESS.  25 

them,  as  they  drop  one  by  one  away,  but  we  must  not 
halt  through  exclusive  sorrow  for  a  moment.  Till  we 
ourselves  are  struck  down,  we  must  still  advance  on- 
ward, like  good  soldiers  of  the  cross,  looking  unto  Jesus, 
the  great  Captain  of  our  salvation,  the  author  and  fin 
isher  of  our  faith.  When  there  is  so  much  to  be  done ; 
when  there  are  so  many  foes  without  and  within  to 
combat ;  when  there  are  so  many  virtues  and  graces  to 
be  practised,  and  so  many  sins  to  be  repented  of  and 
abjured ;  when  there  are  so  many  demands  upon  our 
watchfulness,  our  self-denial,  and  our  courage  in  the 
path  of  duty,  we  have  scarcely  time  to  weep  abundantly 
over  the  most  lovely  and  beloved.  There  will  be  a  full 
opportunity  for  this  when  we  are  at  rest.  Then  there 
will  be  time  for  tears ;  but  they  will  not  be  the  tears 
of  sorrow,  but  of  joy.  Joy  like  that  of  the  departed 
saint  whose  mortal  remains  we  are  about  to  surrender 
to  earth.  Joy  that  the  warfare  and  the  battle  of  human 
life  are  all  over ;  that  the  conquest  is  won ;  that  the 
crown,  and  the  palm,  and  the  white  robe,  are  to  be 
henceforth  for  ever  worn,  and  the  harp  is  to  be  for  ever 
strung,  through  Him  and  to  Him,  the  Lamb  that  died 
upon  the  cross,  and  rose  from  the  tomb,  and  lives  and 
reigns  to  ransom  and  to  bless  all  who  rely  upon  his 
precious  blood  for  salvation ! 
3 


PREFACE. 


Poetry  is  conceived  to  be  the  language  of  feeling, 
addressed  to  the  imagination  and  the  heart.  Its  proper 
objects,  therefore,  are  the  grand  and  beautiful  in  nature 
or  in  morals,  and  the  human  affections  in  general ;  but 
especially  those  which  most  attach  man  to  his  Creator 
and  to  his  fellow-man, — religion,  patriotism,  friendship, 
and  love.  It  is  with  these  ideas  of  Poetry  that  the  fol- 
lowing lines  have  been  written,  mostly  as  the  amuse- 
ment of  leisure  or  lonely  hours.  They  are  now  offered 
to  the  public,  and  particularly  to  the  writer's  personal 
friends,  with  diffidence ;  but  not  without  hope  that  they 
may  repay  a  perusal,  and  perhaps  suggest  some  inter- 
esting train  of  reflection.  Whatever  may  be  their 
faults  of  style  or  deficiencies  of  subject,  it  is  hoped  that 
they  contain  nothing  which  can  tarnish  the  mind,  or  win 
it  from  the  ways  of  virtue  and  happiness.  If  they  do 
not  rather  tend  to  warm  and  mend  the  heart,  and  to 
raise  it  above  earth's  cares  and  sorrows,  they  will  have 
failed  of  their  object.  With  this  brief  explanation  of 
the  spirit  in  which  they  were  written,  and  are  now  pub- 
lished, the  writer  submits  them  to  their  fate. 


28  PREFACE. 

Thus  far  this  Preface  was  printed,  as  an  introduction 
to  a  small  volume  of  Poems,  published  in  Philadelphia 
in  1836.  Most  of  those  Poems  are  here  repeated ;  a  few- 
only  having  been  rejected,  which  the  author's  more  ma- 
ture judgment  would  now  deem  too  trivial,  or  too  juve- 
nile, to  be  worth  retaining.  If  the  additional  Poems  in 
the  present  volume  do  not  greatly  increase  its  value, 
their  writer  is  sadly  in  error.  It  only  remains  to  add 
that  the  Mission  of  the  Gospel  was  written  for  "The 
Keligious  Offering,"  published  in  Philadelphia  in  1840 ; 
The  Two  Dreams  of  Mohammed  were  composed  for 
"  The  Memento,"  published  in  New  York  in  1844 ;  and 
the  poem  on  The  Snow,  was  written  for  "The  Ever- 
green," a  New  York  Church  Periodical,  in  1848.  Life 
and  Death  was  composed,  by  special  invitation,  for  the 
Jubilee  Celebration,  at  Oxford  Academy,  New  York,  in 
1854,  but  has  since  been  expanded  by  that  portion 
which  relates  to  the  great  Battles  of  the  civilized  world, 
And  the  leading  Poem  of  the  volume,  Jerusalem,  was 
all  written,  save  one  page,  in  the  month  of  January, 
1856,  without  interrupting  the  author's  collegiate  duties; 
with  the  special  object,  and  an  earnest  desire,  to  render 
this  little  work  a  more  worthy  tribute  to  the  memory 
of  her,  who  still  lives  more  vividly  then  ever,  in  her 
husband's  bleeding  heart. 


JERUSALEM 


[See  the  Notes  at  tlie  end  of  tlie  volume.] 


1  Feathered  their  thoughts,  their  feet  in  wings  were  (light, 

Swiftly  they  marched,  yet  were  not  tired  thereby, 
For  willing  minds  make  heaviest  burdens  light ; 

But  when  the  gliding  sun  was  mounted  high, 
Jerusalem,  behold,  appeared  in  sight, 

Jerusalem  they  view,  they  see,  they  spy  ; 
Jerusalem  with  merry  noise  they  greet, 
With  joyful  shouts,  and  acclamations  sweet 

Tasso's  Jerusalem  Delivered,  Book  III..  Stanza  III. 


Jerusalem!  Jerusalem! 
Blest  city  of  renown  ! 
Of  orient  lands  the  brightest  gem, 
And  Israel's  ancient  crown ! — 
O'erwhelmed,  at  last,  by  direst  woes, 
Downtrodden,  long,  by  cruel  foes, 
And  still  no  longer  free, — 
Yet  bearest  thou  a  matchless  name ; 
And,  though  unworthy  of  thy  fame, 
My  song  shall  be  of  thee  : — 
A  varied  song,  of  nameless  measure, 
A  mingled  song,  of  pain  and  pleasure, 
Exulting,  now,  in  joy  and  gladness, 
Then  sinking  low  in  tones  of  sadness. 
3* 


30  -  JERUSALEM. 

II. 

Thou  who  didst  once,  on  Zion's  hill, 
In  heavenly  splendor  shine, 

My  heart  inspire,  my  spirit  fill, 
With  rhapsodies  divine ; 

That  I  may  well  perform  my  task, 
Recounting  Zion's  wondrous  story, — 

This  boon,  dear  Lord,  I  humbly  ask ; 
Be  thine  the  glory. 


When  Abraham,  of  old, 
Had  listened  to  the  flying  tale, 
Of  captives  borne  from  Siddim's  vale 
By  Elam's  monarch  bold, 
Chedorlaomer,  with  confederate  bands  ; — 
When  he  their  armies  had  pursued, 
And  overthrown  their  multitude, 
And  rescued  Siddim's  captives  from  their  hands ; 
The  patriarch,  returning  with  success, 

Granting  those  captives  sweet  release, 
'Twas  thine,  Melchizedek  to  bless ; 
Thine  as  the  king  of  righteousness, 
And  king  of  Salem,  that  abode  of  peace : 
And  well  might  Abraham,  on  that  joyful  day, 
To  Salem's  king  a  grateful  tribute  pay. 
Those  earliest  tithes  would  rise 
In  incense  to  the  skies, 
Accepted  as  a  willing  sacrifice, 
To  be  renewed  at  Salem's  holy  fane, 

Till  Christ,  the  true  Melchizedek  should  come, 
Himself  to  be  the  Lamb  for  sinners  slain, 


JERUSALEM.  31 

Then  reascend  to  his  celestial  home, 
At  God's  right  hand,  omnipotent  to  reign. 

IV. 

So  Isaac,  child  of  anxious  care, 

The  Patriarch's  long  expected  heir, 
On  Mount  Moriah  immolated, 
Ere  temple  there  was  consecrated, 

Was  but  another  type  appointed, 

Of  God's  beloved  and  anointed 
Eternal  King  of  righteousness  and  peace  ; 

Whose  precious  life-blood  should  be  spilt 

To  cleanse  our  souls  from  stains  of  guilt ; 
And  then  the  temple's  desecration 
Should  end  in  speedy  conflagration, 
And  bloody  sacrifices  there  forever  cease. 

v. 

Time  winged  its  flight ; 
Melchizedek  and  Abraham  passed  away ; 
When,  favored  by  the  shades  of  night, 
With  stealthy  step,  the  Jebusite 

Assaulted  Salem's  peaceful  walls, 

And  seized  upon  her  palace  halls, 
Which,  thus,  in  evil  hour,  became  his  prey. 
Salem  no  more,  but  Jebus,  then, 
That  place  was  named  by  godless  men, 

Who  revelled  there  in  lordly  state  : 
There  did  the  song  of  triumph  ring, 
Till  Joshua  slew  its  conquered  king, 

Adonizedek,  doomed  to  shame, 

Though  lord  of  righteousness  by  name, 
And  made  his  palace  desolate ; 


32  JERUSALEM. 

Though  Canaan's  nobles  still  remained, 
And  Zion's  citadel  retained. 
Even  then,  the  Israelites  around, 
Viewed  this  as  consecrated  ground, 
Linked  it  with  glories  nevermore  to  cease ; 
And  thus,  it  soon  received  from  them 
Its  final  name, — Jerusalem  ; — 
A  name  suggesting  holiness  and  peace. 

VI. 

Hence,  David,  having  borne 
Goliath's  head,  a  trophy  proud, 
In  triumph  through  the  gazing  crowd, 
Brought  to  Jerusalem  the  prize, 
To  be  a  votive  sacrifice ; 
But  carried  to  his  private  tent 
The  armor  by  the  giant  worn, — 
The  helmet,  spear,  and  coat  of  mail, 
Memorials  of  that  wondrous  tale, — 

All,  save  the  ponderous  sword, 
Which,  with  Philistine  gore  besprent, 
The  youthful  champion,  grateful,  sent 
To  God's  high  priest, — a  trophy  of  the  Lord. 
Nor  ended  here 
His  high  career, 
Nor  was  the  contest,  nor  the  carnage  done ; 
Till  Saul  had  met  his  hapless  fate, 
And  David  was  enthroned  in  state, — 
Till  from  the  land 
Each  armed  band 
Of  Canaan's  race  was  sternly  driven, 
For  victory  having  vainly  striven, — 


JERUSALEM.  33 

Till  Zion's  lofty  citadel, 
At  length,  by  Jewish  valor  fell ; 
And  thus  for  Israel's  king  Jerusalem  was  won. 

VII. 

Then  rose,  on  Zion's  rocky  steep, 
Based  on  foundations  broad  and  deep, 
Fair  palaces,  and  ramparts  crowned  with  towers  ; 
Whose  battlements  looked  boldly  forth 
On  Acra's  streets  toward  the  north, 
Commanding  all  the  distant  view 
Of  mount,  and  hill, 
And  vale,  and  rill, 
Fading,  till  lost  in  dusky  hue  : — 
And  long,  within  that  massive  fort, 
The  monarch  held  his  royal  court, 
Heard  every  cause, 
Enforced  the  laws, 
Attuned  his  harp,  with  joy,  to  sing 
The  praises  of  a  greater  king  ; 
And  there,  unbending,  passed  his  social  hours. 

vm. 
And  when,  by  pride  misled, 
He  gave  the  word,  in  empty  boast, 
To  number  Israel's  warlike  host, 
As  trusting  in  an  arm  of  flesh ; — 
And,  thus  presuming,  drew  afresh 
The  wrath  of  Heaven  upon  his  guilty  head  ; — 
When,  startled  by  the  prophet's  voice, 
He  made  the  wise  and  humble  choice 
To  fall  into  the  hands  of  Israel's  (rod, 
Meekly  submitting  to  his  chastening  rod  ; — 


34  JERUSALEM. 

While  yet  the  pestilence  was  raging, 
The  anger  of  the  Lord  assuaging ; — 
Then,  monished  by  the  prophet  still, 
On  Mount  Moriah's  sacred  hill, — . 
Araunah  cheerfully  consenting 

For  this,  at  David's  price,  to  yield 
His  loved  ancestral  threshing-field, — 
The  monarch,  humbled  and  repenting, 
An  altar  raised  ; — and  there, 
With  supplicating  prayer, 
The  smoke  ascended  to  the  skies 
Of  an  atoning  sacrifice  ; — 
While  God,  relenting,  with  his  presence  blest 
That  chosen  place  where  soon  his  ark  should  rest. 

IX. 

Moriah's  favored  seat, 

The  city's  eastern  (Town, 
O'erlooking  every  street 
Of  Acra's  busy  town, 
Was  crowned  with  higher  glory  now ; 
The  temple  rising  on  its  brow. 
There  David's  chosen  son,  ♦ 
The  matchless  Solomon, 
Upreared,  with  marble  walls,  that  splendid  fane, 
Whose  gilded  towers  and  turrets  high, 
And  pinnacles,  that  pierced  the  sky, 
Stood  glittering  in  the  morning  light, 
And  burst  upon  the  astonished  sight 
Of  many  a  traveller  from  the  distant  plain. 
The  votaries  of  art, 
From  Tyre's  unrivalled  mart, — 


JERUSALEM.  35 

King  Hiram  gladly  furnishing  his  aid, — 
Their  richest  offerings  brought, 
And  wonderfully  wrought, 
To  square  the  white  and  massive  blocks 
Of  Lebanon's  uprifted  rocks ; 
To  hew  the  lofty  fir  and  pine, 
Pride  of  the  groves  of  Palestine ; 
To  carve  in  forms  of  choicest  mould, 
And  plate  the  cedar  beams  with  gold ; 
And  all  were  in  the  temple  gorgeously  displayed. 
No  sound  of  axe,  nor  hammer's  blow, 

On  all  its  sacred  walls  is  heard ; 
The  workmen,  quiet,  come  and  go, 
Obedient  to  the  master's  word, 
Softly  and  still,  as  in  the  Christian's  heart 
The  Spirit  doth  its  gradual  growth  impart; 
Until,  at  length,  its  finished  glories  shine, 
And  all  admire  the  edifice  divine. 


On  every  side  are  cloistered  colonnades, 
Surrounding  all  that  triple  court, 
Thenceforth  to  be  the  glad  resort 
Of  Israel's  throng,  her  matrons  and  her  maids, 
Her  young  men  and  her  aged  sires, 
And  priests,  who  light  the  sacred  fires 
Upon  the  altar,  night  and  morn, 
And  weekly  blow  the  Sabbath  horn ; 
While  central  stands  the  temple  with  its  spires, 
And  points  the  way  to  heaven,  and,  silent,  tells 
How  God  in  glory  there,  as  here  in  splendor 
dwells. 


JERUSALEM. 

Within  the  temple's  mystic  gloom 
An  outer  and  an  inner  room, 

The  holy,  and  most  holy,  stand, 
Divided  by  a  blue  and  scarlet  veil ; 
And  furnished,  by  divine  command, 
With  emblems  that  his  mercy  shall  not  fail 

To  those  who  recognize  his  guardian  hand. 
The  incense  altar,  with  its  fragrant  breath, 
Sweetly  the  atmosphere  perfuming, — 
Symbol,  at  once,  of  hope,  and  heaven,  and  death, 
Memorial  of  God  the  Father's  love 
Exhaled  upon  his  children  from  above ; 
The  table,  spread 
With  holy  bread, 
Emblem  of  God  the  Son,  by  whom  our  souls  are 

fed, 
Who,  like  the  grains  of  wheat,  uprose  as  from  the 
dead ; 
The  candlestick,  sevenfold, 
Of  heaven-appointed  mould, 
Sign  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  our  souls  illuming ; — 
These,  all,  of  purest  geld, 
Were  manifestly  formed  to  be 
Types  of  the  Holy  Trinity. 

Within  the  veil,  mid  shadows  dim, 
Between  the  golden  cherubim, 
Were  placed  the  ark,  and  mercy  seat, 
Where  God  with  man  vouchsafed  to  meet ; 
And  thence,  as  from  a  radiant  throne 
A  more  than  earthly  glory  shone, — 
The  bright  Shechinah  of  the  Lord, 
The  nation's  sovereign,  and  its  ward. 


JERUSALEM. 


XL 


37 


Who  shall  portray 
The  scenes  of  that  eventful  day, 
When  stood  the  temple  furnished  and  complete ; 
While  Israel's  tribes  thronged  every  street, 
All  hastening  to  that  holy  shrine, 
Where  Solomon,  with  more  than  regal  splendor, 
Assembled  all  his  pomp  of  state, 
With  service  high  to  consecrate 
That  House  to  God,  their  Helper  and  Defender ! 
When  standing  forth,  his  nation's  boast, 
Before  the  congregated  host, 
And  stretching  out  his  hands  to  heaven, 
He  prayed  their  sins  might  be  forgiven ; 
Beseeching  God  to  bless  forever, 
Their  anxious  toil  and  high  endeavor, 
To  enter  in  that  house  and  dwell, 
The  Guardian  of  Israel, 
And  sanctify  their  tribes,  and  David's  royal  line. 
Then  rose  the  harper's  solemn  strain, 
While  cheerful  voices  all  around 
Prolonged  the  full  harmonic  sound ; 
And  myriads  of  victims  slain 

Were  scarce  sufficient  for  the  feast, 
Where  he,  the  monarch  and  the  priest, 
Presided  o'er  the  banquet  rare, 
And  ministered  with  zealous  care, — 
All  hearts  their  joy  and  gratitude  expressing ; 
Then  sent  them  to  their  homes  again, 
Both  happier  and  wiser  men, 
Bearing  their  monarch's  and  their  Maker's  blessing. 
4 


38  JERUSALEM. 


XII. 


Time  still  rolled  on,  with  many  a  change, 
And  incidents  both  sad  and  strange ; 
Relapse  from  God,  and  impious  pleasures ; 
Till  Shishak,  king  of  Egypt,  first 
The  guilty  land  subdued,  amerced, 
And  plundered  Rehoboam  of  his  treasures ; — 
Vain  king,  who  had  already,  to  his  cost, 
Ten  tribes  of  Israel  by  his  folly  lost. 

Those  tribes,  thenceforth  a  rival  state, 
Exposed  to  jealousy  and  hate, 
Challenged,  at  length,  to  deadly  fight, 
Gave  proof  of  their  superior  might, 
When  Amaziah's  craven  forces  failed, 
And  Joash,  king  of  Ephraim,  prevailed, — 

Then  led  his  troops  to  Salem's  gate, 
Broke  down,  with  ease,  the  city's  northern  wall, 
And  plundered  temple,  citadel,  and  all. 

XIII. 

In  good  king  Hezekiah's  pious  reign, 
Sennacherib,  the  Assyrian,  strove  in  vain 
The  royal  counsellors  to  cower, 
And  plunder  Salem's  holy  fane. 
His  armed  power, 
In  one  brief  hour, 
"Were  all,  by  angel's  hands,  together  slain ; — 
The  mighty  monarch  fleeing,  in  despair, 
To  reach  his  palace,  and  to  perish  there. 
But  Hezekiah's  son, 
Manasseh,  impious  and  presumptuous  grown, 
Was  soon  by  Esarhaddon's  force  o'erthrown, 


JERUSALEM. 


And  borne,  in  chains,  to  Babylon  ;— 
Till  humbled,  pardoned,  and  restored, 
He  strove,  at  last,  to  serve  the  Lord. 
So  rash  Josiah,  waging  needless  war 
With  Necho,  king  of  Egypt,  fr,om  afar, 
Fell  at  Megiddo,  in  unequal  strife, 
And  lost,  at  once,  his  kingdom  and  his  life. 

XIV. 

.      At   length   approached   those   dark    and   fearful 
times 
When  God  would  punish  Judah  for  her  crimes ; 
When  Ephraim's  idol-worshippers  had  bled, 
And  Israel's  daughters  had  been  captive  led, 
And  justice,  now  avenged  of  them, 
Took  vengeance  on  Jerusalem. 

With  awful  pomp  and  mighty  force, 
With  serried  ranks  of  foot  and  horse, 
With  flags  and  pennons  proudly  streaming, 
And  spears  and  falchions  brightly  gleaming 
With  measured  tread  and  stately  prance, 
The  troops  of  Babylon  advance, — 
Nebuchadnezzar,  and  his  dread  array  :— 
The  earth  is  burdened,  as  it  feels 
The  rolling  of  his  chariot  wheels  ; 
The  city  trembles,  and  its  roofs 
Are  shaken  by  the  horses'  hoofs, 
As  onward,  with  unwearied  tramp, 
They  round  Jerusalem  encamp, 
And  hostile  banners  flauntingly  display. 
No  parley  now  avails  the  Jews  : — 
Their  pledge,  twice  broken, 
Becomes  the  token 


40  JERUSALEM. 

Of  rage  that  would  all  terms  refuse, 
Avenging  violated  faith 
By  conquest,  plunder,  flames  and  death. 
Eliakim  had  first  rebelled, 

Then  found  a  hapless  grave ; 
Jehoiachin  had  been  expelled, 
A  captive  and  a  slave : 
Yet  Zedekiah  dared  to  draw  the  sword, 
Traitor,  alike,  to  heaven,  and  earthly  lord. 


And  now  Chaldea's  might 
Begins  the  furious  flight, 
With  shout,  and  clang,  and  onset  fierce  and  strong 
While  Olivet,  and  Gibeah's  hill, 
And  Cedroh's  brook,  and  Gihon's  rill 
Resound  with  clash  of  arms,  and  contest  close  and 
long ; 
And  dying  groans, 
And  dismal  moans 
Are  heard  amid  the  battle's  mingled  cry  ; 
And  field  and  flood 
Are  stained  with  blood, 
While,  thickly  strewn,  the  mangled  corpses  lie. 
The  Jews,  in  terror  at  their  coming  fate, 
Behold  their  error  when  it  is  too  late. 
Without,  the  combat  swells  in  mortal  strife ; 
Within,  gaunt  famine  gnaws  the  cords  of  life. 
Death  stares,  with  more  than  double  face, 
On  Judah's  lost  and  hapless  race  : — 
The  city  gates  are  broken  through  ; — 
They  fly, — but  still  their  foes  pursue ; 


JERUSALEM. 


41 


Their  king  is  caught,  his  sons  are  slain, 
The  monarch  feels  a  captive's  chain, 

Deprived  of  sight, 

Bereft  of  might, 
And  owns  his  just  desert,  and  now  repents  in  vain. 

XVI. 

Avenging  wrath 

Still  marks  the  path 

Of  Babylon's  proud  king  and  conquering  host, 

Whose  threats  no  longer  seem  an  empty  boast. 

Jerusalem  awaits  her  doom, 

A  bloody  and  a  fiery  tomb. 

Her  treasures  seized ;  her  people  fled  ; 

Her  warriors  fallen,  or  captive  led  ; 

The  sledge  and  bar  soon  batter  down  her  walls  ; 

The  smoke  rolls  up  from  every  part, 

From  gate,  and  street,  and  open  mart ; 

The  red  flame  flashes, 

Glows  in  the  night,  spreads  with  the  breeze ; 

Until,  at  length,  the  foeman  sees 

Her  temple,  palaces,  and  private  halls 

Reduced  to  ashes. 

The  besom  of  destruction  sweeps 

Her  mouldering  piles  and  crumbling  heaps  ; 

Ruin  runs  riot : 

Her  desolation  is  complete  ; 

The  restless  town,  the  busy  street 

At  length  is  quiet. 

Her  bravest  sons  are  lowly  sleeping ; 

Her  fairest  daughters, 

Mid  servile  toils,  are  sadly  weeping 

By  Babel's  waters. 
4* 


42  JERUSALEM. 


XVII. 


Thus,  seventy  tedious  years 
Of  penitential  tears, 
By  ancient  prophets  long  foretold, 
O'er  Judah's  captive  remnant  rolled, 
Until  Belshazzar  fell,  inglorious, 

And  Persia's  royal  son, 
Cyrus,  the  pious,  and  victorious, 

Ruled  over  Babylon. 
From  him  the  Jews  compassion  win  ; 

Of  him  the  privilege  obtain, 
Under  Zerubbabel's  command, 
Once  more  to  seek  their  native  land, 

With  golden  gifts  and  earnest  men ; 
And  there,  rejoicing,  they  begin 
To  build  Jerusalem  again, 
And  there  erect  another  fane, 
Which,  though  inferior  to  the  first,  in  glory, 
Might  well  deserve  a  place  in  future  story. 


Thus  was  it  seen,  when  Alexander, 
Marching  to  conquest  in  the  east, 
Welcomed,  as  earth's  ordained  commander, 
Was  entertained  by  God's  high  priest. 
A  sacrifice  he  offered  there, 
With  incense  pure,  and  holy  prayer ; 
And  while  the  great  Jehovah  he  adored, 
The  Jewish  chiefs  acknowledged  him  their  lord. 
There  he  beheld  their  mysteries, 
And  understood  the  prophecies ; 


JERUSALEM. 


43 


With  banquet  rare  they  graced  his  stay, 
Then  sped  the  monarch  on  his  way. 

XIX. 

Next,  Ptolemy,  lord  of  the  Nile, 
Entered  Jerusalem  with  guile, 
Seizing  the  city  on  the  Sabbath  morn  : — 
Thus  was  God's  Holy  Word 
By  colonists  transferred, 
And  numerous  copies  into  Egypt  borne : 
And  Philadelphus,  there, 
By  wise  Demetrius'  care, 
Appointed  seventy  of  the  Jewish  sages 
To  render  into  Greek  its  sacred  pages  ; 
Whose  version,  now  in  print, 
Known  as  the  Septuagint, 
The  Hebrew  oracles  contains  ; 
And  still  in  manuscript  remains, 
A  witness  of  God's  truth  to  endless  ages. 

xx. 

Next,  Syria's  haughty  king, 

Antiochus  Epiphanes, 
Through  treacherous  confederates, 
Who  oped  for  him  the  city  gates, 
Entered  Jerusalem  with  ease, 
Plundered  the  temple  of  its  wealth, 

Oppressed  the  Jews,  profaned  their  laws  ; 
Who,  yet,  in  private,  or  by  stealth, 

Performed  their  rites,  maintained  their  cause, 
Till,  headed  by  the  Maccabees, 
They  drove  the  Syrian  from  their  coasts, 
Defied  his  fierce  invading  hosts. 


44  JERUSALEM. 

Restored  the  daily  offering ; — 
And  Syria's  monarch,  struck  with  awful  death, 
Confessed  God's  vengeance  with  his  dying  breath. 

XXI. 

Imperial  Rome,  at  length, 
In  all  her  warlike  strength, 
Improves  the  heaven-appointed  hour 
For  spreading  her  gigantic  power, 
O'er  Asia's  fertile  plains, 
And  Syria's  wide  domains, 
Till  on  the  hills  of  Palestine 
Her  ensigns  fly,  her  eagles  shine, 

And  Pompey's  banner  proudly  floats 
O'er  Zion's  walls  and  circling  moats. 
But  when,  in  Pompey's  stead, 
Rome  found  another  head, 
And  Julius  Caesar  gained  supreme  command, 
The  Idumean  race 
Obtaining  special  grace, 
Antipater  ruled  o'er  the  Holy  Land. 
And  still,  though  Caesar,  slain, 
Left  Anthony  to  reign, 
Antipater's  proud  line  to  splendor  rose, 
When  Herod,  widely  famed, 
Was  openly  proclaimed 
King  of  the  Jews,  triumphant  o'er  his  foes. 
He  built  the  temple  walls  anew, 
And  made  them  beautiful  to  view ; 
Enlarged  the  city  on  the  north, 
Bezetha's  streets  extending  forth ; 
And  much  enriched  the  Jewish  state, 
By  previous  wars  made  desolate ; — 


JERUSALEM.  45 

Yet  lived  a  melancholy  life, 

Perplexed  by  cares,  disturbed  by  strife, 

And,  filled  with  overweening  pride, 

Frantic  with  raving  curses,  died. 

xxn. 

Little  thought  Herod, — that  bright  morn 
When  Christ  in  Bethlehem  was  born, — 
When  angels  sang  the  natal  hymn, 
While  yet  the  sky  was  cold  and  dim, — 
How  glorious  a  diadem 
Should  crown  the  babe  of  Bethlehem. 
And  when  the  magi,  from  afar, 
Led  by  the  light  of  Judah's  star, 
Their  choicest  treasures  came  to  bring, 
And  worship  Israel's  new-born  king ; — 

No  mortal  homage  filled  their  thought, 
No  earthly  potentate  they  sought ; 
But  bowed  with  reverence  divine, 
To  One  of  more  than  mortal  line. 
Not  to  a  Jewish  prince  alone 
Those  vows  were  given ; 
But  One  who  soon  should  fill  the  throne 

Of  earth  and  heaven. 
No  cause  had  Herod,  then,  to  fear 
One  who  would  claim  no  kingdom  here 
Who  wore  the  purple  but  in  scorn, 
And  sought  no  crown  but  that  of  thorn. 
And  oh !  it  was  a  murderous  deed, 
When  Rachel's  sons  were  doomed  to  bleed ! 
Yet  bled  for  Him  who  came  to  die  for  them 
Those  mart  Med  babes  of  Bethlehem. 


46  JERUSALEM. 


XXIII. 


Ill  lowly  guise, 
To  mortal  eyes, 
And  veiled  in  flesh  the  great  Immanuel  comes ! 
No  martial  trumps,  nor  stirring  drums 
Announce  his  progress  to  the  temple  gate. 
Yet,  multitudes,  around, 
With  garments  deck  the  ground, 
And  singing  festal  psalms, 
While  bearing  leafy  palms, 
Upon  his  steps  in  glad  attendance  wait. 
"  Hosanna !     Hallelujah !"  they  exclaim, 
"  To  him  that  cometh  in  Messiah's  name." 
And  when  he  enters  there, 
To  offer  holy  prayer, 
That  house  is  filled  with  a  diviner  glory 
Than  matchless  Solomon, 
Or  good  Josiah  won 
For  that  first  fane  so  eminent  in  story, 
Though  decked  with  gold,  and  wreathed  with  mem- 
ories hoary. 

The  Lord  was  in  his  temple,  then ; 
And  well  behooved  it  sinful  men 
To  kneel  in  silence  there  before  him, 
And  reverentially  adore  him. 


XXIV. 


gut  no  ? — The  haughty  priests  and  scribes 
Insultingly  refuse  to  obey  him ; 
O'erlook  the  miracles  he  wrought, 
Contemn  the  doctrines  which  he  taught, 


JERUSALEM.  47 

And,  madly  scorning 
His  words  of  warning, 
By  secret  arts  and  paltry  bribes, 
Engage  Iscariot  to  betray  him. 
The  great  Sanhedrim  hastily  convene, 
And  urge  his  trial. 
Their  malice  deep,  and  anger  keen 
Brook  no  denial ; 
While  He,  with  steadfast  look  and  brow  serene, 
Answers  the  high  priest's  adjuration 
With  simple  words  of  affirmation, 
Confessing  that  he  is  the  Son  of  God, 
Ev'n  while  submitting  to  His  chastening  rod. 
By  Israel  wrongfully  accused, 
By  Herod  taunted  and  abused, 
By  Pilate  cruelly  refused 

Justice  or  pity. — 
Behold  him,  suffering  every  wrong. 
Surrounded  by  a  furious  throng, 
Bearing  his  heavy  cross  along, 

Without  the  city : 
And  there  survey  him,  crucified, 

Nailed  to  the  accursed  tree ! 
The  blood  and  water  from  his  side, 

Behold  them,  flowing  free  ! 
Twas  thus,  the  blessed  Saviour  died, 

Reader,  for  you  and  me  ! 
For  us  his  precious  blood  was  spilt, 

An  expiation, 
To  cleanse  our  souls  from  sin  and  guilt, 

And  bring  salvation 
To  all  who  seek  his  proffered  grace  ; 


48  JERUSALEM. 

But  shed  in  vain 
For  those  who  saw  the  Saviour  bleed, 
Yet,  scoffing  at  his  direst  need, 
And  mocking,  as  he  writhed  in  pain, 
Invoked  his  vengeance  on  their  hapless  race. 

XXV. 

That  awful  doom 
Is  soon  impending ! 
The  King  of  glory  quits  the  tomb, 
Clothes  his  apostles  with  their  high  commission, 
Then,  while  they  view  the  glorious  apparition, 
To  heaven  in  majesty  ascending, 
Angelic  guards  their  Lord  attending, 
Resumes  his  mediatorial  power ; 
And  there,  the  wheels  of  time  still  onward  wending, 

Awaits  the  long  appointed  hour 
To  visit,  with  the  vengeance  of  his  ire, 
And  whelm  Jerusalem  in  floods  of  fire. 


Oh,  then,  what  awful  prodigies 

On  earth  appeared,  and  in  the  skies, 

Forewarning  those  who  best  could  know, 
Of  that  impending  overthrow  ! 
For  lo !  the  temple's  eastern  gate, 
Of  solid  brass,  and  ponderous  weight, 
Though  bolted  firm,  and  doubly  barred, 
By  those  who  there  kept  watch  and  ward, 
Self-moving,  oped,  ere  morning  rose, 
As  if  to  admit  the  nation's  foes ; 

While  twenty  strong  and  daring  men 
Could  scarcely  close  that  gate  again. 


JERUSALEM.  49 

And  lo  !  anon,  at  dead  of  night, 
A  strange  and  supernatural  light, 

Eclipsing  both  the  stars  and  moon, 

Bright  as  the  sun  at  highest  noon, 
Around  the  altar,  fearful,  gleamed, 
And  radiant  from  the  temple  streamed ; 

And  while  the  inmost  holy  shrine 

Was  shaken  by  the  power  divine, 
An  awful  voice  was  heard  from  thence, 
"  Let  us  go  hence !     Let  us  go  hence !" 

And  lo  !  another  scene  on  high  ! 

An  awful  omen  in  the  sky ! 
For  there,  amid  the  light  of  day, 
Were  armed  bands  in  full  array, 

With  spears,  and  swords,  and  shining  ranks, 

With  horsemen  wheeling  on  their  flanks, 
And  eagle  banners  widely  spread, 
By  mighty  chiefs  to  combat  led. 
Each  ghostly  foeman 
Appeared  a  Roman ! 

While  those  who  fled,  and  quit  their  place, 

Were  visibly  the  Hebrew  race ; 

Whose  troops  dispersed,  and  cities  taken, 
Eoretold  a  nation  God-forsaken : 

And  thus  was  heralded  for  them 

The  conquest  of  Jerusalem. 

XXVII. 

At  length  a  voice  is  heard 
From  street  and  forum  in  the  distance  calling. 

List  to  the  warning  word, 
Which  lingers  on  the  ear,  sad  and  appalling  ! 
5 


50 


JERUSALEM. 

Almost  it  seems  a  superhuman  cry, 
Which  utters  thus  its  strain,  then  passes  by. 

*  XXVIII. 

"  They  are  gathered  !  they  are  come  ! 
See,  the  eagle  flag  appears, 
And  the  warrior's  glittering  spears, 
With  the  waving  crests 
And  mail-clad  breasts 
Of  the  panoplied  chiefs  of  Rome ! 
Hark  to  the  murmuring  wail 
That  rises  with  the  gale, 
From  Siloam's  fount, 
From  the  Olive  Mount, 
And  Hinnom's  bloody  vale ! 
Lift  up  your  heads  on  high ! 
Look  up,  ye  believers,  beware  and  behold 

The  prognostic  in  the  sky ! 
The  vengeance  denounced  by  the  prophets  of  old, 
The  doom,  by  our  Master  so  plainly  foretold, 
Of  Jerusalem  draws  nigh. 

Look  up  to  the  flaming  sword  ! 
'Tis  the  warning  sign 
Of  the  wrath  divine, 
And  the  coming  of  our  Lord ! 
Hark  to  the  mingled  shout 
Of  fear  and  exultation ! 
See  Zion  encompassed  with  armies  about, 
To  whelm  her  in  desolation ! 
Come  forth,  ye  believers; 
Heed  not  the  deceivers  ! 
Delay  not  for  life  !  linger  not  in  the  walls; 


JERUSALEM.  51 

But  hasten,  and  flee 

To  the  desert  with  me, 
Lest  the  gates  close  to-night, 
Intercepting  our  flight, 
To  be  opened  no  more  till  Jerusalem  falls !" 


Thus  spake,  amid  those  hurried  scenes, 
A  deacon  of  the  Nazarenes : 

And  quietly,  with  willing  heart, 
Retiring  from  the  busy  street, 
From  narrow  lane  and  crowded  mart, 
In  groups  they  gather,  and  depart. 
They  pass,  unharmed,  each  hostile  band, 

Veiled  by  the  evening's  gloom ; 
They  traverse  Judah's  wasted  land, 

Deserted  as  the  tomb  ; 
And  Pella's  calm  and  safe  retreat 
Affords  them  ample  room, 
Awaiting  there, 
With  anxious  prayer, 
The  city's  final  doom. 

XXX. 

Now  Titus  forms  his  serried  lines 

Circling  Jerusalem  around ; 
And  bright  the  glittering  order  shines 
From  holy  and  unholy  ground. 
On  eastern  Olivet 
The  double  watch  is  set ; 
The  Potters'  and  the  Fullers'  field 
Gleam,  in  the  south,  with  many  a  shield ; 


52 


JERUSALEM. 

Gihon  and  Gareb,  on  the  west, 
Glitter  with  many  a  warrior's  crest ; 
While  Scopus'  northern  height, 
Where  Titus  takes  his  post, 
Looks  proudly  down,  in  conscious  might, 
And  rules  the  assailing  host. 

XXXI. 

Within  the  walls,  a  numerous  throng, 
Assembled  for  the  paschal  feast, — 
The  matron,  and  the  timid  maid, 
The  youth,  in  manly  garb  arrayed, 
The  sire,  the  soldier,  and  the  priest, 
Have  hushed  the  dance,  suppressed  the  song, 
Have  quit  their  merchandise  and  labor, 
Each  gazing,  wistful,  on  his  neighbor, 
As  conscious  of  their  nation's  wrong ; 
And  there,  in  harrowing  suspense, 
They  wait  the  current  of  events, 
And  bide  the  fearful  consequence. 
For  them  Christ's  sacrifice  has  proved  in  vain ; 
Themselves,  full  soon,  to  be  the  victims  slain. 

XXXII. 

To  magnify  their  woes, 

And  seal  their  hapless  fate, 
Two  stern  and  rival  foes, 

With  diabolic  hate, 
In  dire  hostilities  engage, 
And  mortal  combat  fiercely  wage, 
Even  while  the  Roman  thunders  at  the  gate. 


JERUSALEM.  53 

XXXIII. 

On  Mount  Moriah's  sacred  height, 

The  fierce  and  haughty  John, 
The  zealot  and  the  robber  chief, 
Adulterer,  murderer,  and  thief, 
Hath  armed  his  followers  for  the  fight, 
His  sword  hath  girded  on ; 
And  filled  the  temple's  cloistered  courts, 
Converted  now  to  warlike  forts, 
With  troops  of  outlawed  men, 
With  blood  of  victims,  foul  and  red, 
And  heaps  of  grim  and  ghastly  dead, 
As  in  a  lion's  den  : 
While  bitter  sighs, 
And  piercing  cries, 
And  direful  curses, 
In  place  of  heavenly  music  rise, 
Or  chanted  verses. 
The  brazen  altar,  as  of  yore, 
Is  streaming  still  with  purple  gore, 
But  not  with  grateful  sacrifice  : — 
Alas  !  it  is  the  horrid  stain 
Of  priests  around  the  altar  slain  ! 

The  darts  are  flying, 
And  yells  of  battle  rend  the  air, 
With  shrieks  of  those  in  anguish  lying, 
And  groans  of  reckless  ruffians  dying, 
Instead  of  calm  and  holy  prayer, 

xxxiv. 
Meanwhile,  in  Zion's  lofty  towers 

Sustained  by  Idumean  bands, 
5* 


54  JERUSALEM. 

Proud  Simon  marshals  all  his  powers, 
And  urges  his  commands. 
Thence,  like  a  torrent,  issuing  down, 

To  roam  and  ravage, 
He  scours  the  unprotected  town, 

Ruthless  and  savage ; 
Lays  waste  the  streets  for  many  a  rood, 
Robs  the  inhabitants  of  food  ; 

Destroys,  by  fire,  the  treasured  hoard 
Of  grain,  for  siege  or  famine  stored  ; 
Bursts  every  private  door  asunder, 
Insults  with  cruelty  and  shame 
The  weak,  who  flee  from  sword  or  flame ; 
Assaults  and  kills,  without  remorse, 
Trampling  on  many  a  mangled  corse, 
While  bearing  off  his  precious  plunder ; 
Then,  madly  rushing, 
Assails  the  temple  gates  in  vain, 
Where  darts  are  falling  like  the  rain, 

And  blood  is  gushing  ; 
Till,  baffled  in  the  bold  attack, 
His  bravest  troops  are  driven  back, 
And,  scarce  escaping,  he  retires, 
Mid  clouds  of  smoke,  and  baleful  fires. 
'Twas  thus,  invited  in  for  aid, 
That  he  the  citizens  repaid. 

XXXV. 

But  who  shall  tell 
What  awful  famine  then  befell 

♦  That  hapless  nation  ! 
When  hunger,  with  relentless  fangs, 
Inflicted  worse  than  dying  pangs ; 


JERUSALEM. 

And  naught  was  left,  to  appease  the  craving 
That  drove  the  hapless  sufferers  raving, 
So  overpowering  every  feature 
Of  cultivated  human  nature, 
That  brother  snatched  from  pining  brother, 
And  children  from  their  starving  mother, 
The  morsel  hidden, 
But  seized,  unbidden, 
That  left  the  victim  to  starvation  ! 
And  last,  and  worse ; 
That  awful  curse 
Foretold  by  Israel's  legislator, 
And  uttered  by  the  great  Creator, 

Was  then  fulfilled; 
When  that  lone  mother,  once  so  mild, 
But  now,  through  misery,  grown  wild, 

Had  seized,  and  killed, 
K  wasted,  and  eat  her  only  child ! 
Thus  Judah's  race,  in  countless  numbers, 
Were  wrapped  in  death's  enduring  slumbers, 
xxxvi. 
And  still  the  Roman  arms, 
On  every  side  arrayed, 
Mid  combats  fierce  and  dire  alarms, 
Are  gloriously  displayed. 
From  many  leagues  around 
They  gather  trunks  of  sturdy  oaks, 
To  build  a  long  and  level  mound, 
A  causeway  high  above  the  ground, 
On  which  their  battering  rams  they  bring ; 
And  soon  their  iron  hammers  ring 
Assailing,  with  redoubled  strokes, 


55 


56  JERUSALEM. 

The  massive  walls,  and  turrets  high, 
Which  tremble  now  beneath  the  blows, 
And  quail  before  their  mighty  foes, 

And  seem  to  feel  destruction  nigh. 

XXXVII. 

With  many  a  sally, 
The  Jews  assay,  by  fierce  attack, 
To  drive  the  advancing  foemen  back. 
But  firmly  as  the  eternal  rock, 
Those  legions  bear  their  heavy  shock ; 

Who  vainly  rally, 
Till  oft  repulsed,  and  driven,  at  length, 
By  almost  superhuman  strength, 
Across  the  valley, 
They  gladly  to  the  gates  repair, 
And  seek,  once  more,  for  shelter  there. 

XXXVIII. 

With  crash,  and  spasm, 
The  massive  walls,  at  last,  are  broken  through, 
Leaving  a  wide  and  yawning  chasm, 
Exposing  the  interior  to  view  : — 
And  onward  dash, 
Swift  as  a  flash, 
The  Roman  forces  up  the  dangerous  way  ; 
Smiting  and  shouting, 
Fighting  and  routing, 
The  pent  up  Jews,  in  horrible  affray  : 
And  thus,  in  quick  succession,  fall 
The  outer  and  the  inner  wall, 
Till  every  barrier  is  at  length  o'erthrown, 
And  Acra  and  Bezetha  are  their  own. 


JERUSALEM. 


XXXIX. 


57 


And  now  the  Roman  power 
Assails  Antonia's  tower, — 
The  temple's  bulwark,  and  its  chief  reliance ; 
Whose  battlements  look  down 
On  all  the  lower  town, 
And  proudly  to  the  foeman  bid  defiance. 
Yet  Rome's  undaunted  brave, 
One  dark  and  silent  night, 
Climb  up  the  giddy  height, 
And,  while  the  weary  watchmen  sleep, 
They  hurl  them  down  the  fatal  steep, 
Seizing  the  fort  by  swift  surprise, 
While  throngs  of  Jews,  with  deafening  cries 
Rush  on  to  death,  and  find  a  nameless  grave. 


Still,  John,  the  impious  chief, 

Anticipates  relief, 
And  in  the  temple  holds  his  revels, 
With  men  who  seem  incarnate  devils, 
Glutted  with  blood,  and  every  crime 
Of  every  land  and  every  clime, 
Yet  fierce  in  fight,  and  reckless  daring, 
Whether  presuming  or  despairing. 

XLI. 

And  now,  the  temple  is  the  goal 
To  which  the  waves  of  carnage  roll. 
There  bursts  the  thunder-storm  of  war, 
There  missiles  rattle, 


58  JERUSALEM. 

And  shouts  of  wrath  are  heard  afar, 
Amid  the  battle ; — 
The  Jews  their  cloistered  walls  defending, 
The  Romans  to  those  walls  ascending, 
And  both  for  victory  contending. 

Anon,  the  smoke  is  seen  to  curl 
From  the  surrounding  colonnade ; 

Anon  the  flames  in  rapid  whirl, 
Burst  on  the  Romans,  undismayed, 
Amid  their  daring  escalade. 

They  clamber  on  the  burning  roof, 

And,  while  the  Hebrews  stand  aloof, 
Rush  down  to  them,  in  desperate  strife, 
And,  fiercely  fighting,  yield  their  life, 
Or,  leaping  headlong  from  the  outer  wall, 
Are  crushed  upon  the  pavement  by  the  fall. 

But  thou,  Artorius,  down  that  steep, 

Didst  safely  take  the  fearful  leap ; 
Whilst  he  who  welcomed  thee,  with  arms  outspread, 
Whelmed  by  the  blow,  was  numbered  with  the  dead. 


Louder,  those  sacred  courts  within, 
Are  heard  the  combat's  roaring  din, 
The  clash  of  swords,  the  furious  yell, 
Befitting  more  the  imps  of  hell 
Than  place  so  holy ; 
And  still  the  Jews  are  kept  at  bay, 
And  still  the  Romans  force  their  way, 
Advancing  slowly ; 
Till,  in  amaze, 
All  eyes,  aghast, 


JERUSALEM.  59 

Behold  the  temple  in  a  blaze ! 

The  fire  spreads  fast ! 
With  baleful  flames,  the  sparkling  brand, 
Thrown  by  an  impious  soldier's  hand, 
Wraps  in  resistless  conflagration, 
The  pride  and  glory  of  a  nation. 
The  Jews,  at  last, 
Startled  with  terror, 
Or  stupefied,  with  saddening  gaze, 
Perceive  their  error ; 
Then  fall  in  heaps,  or  idly  rave, 
And  rush  into  a  flaming  grave, 
In  vain  from  heaven  fresh  aid  imploring, 
While  havoc's  din  is  round  them  roaring. 
Titus  in  vain  essays  to  save 
The  temple's  golden  covered  nave ; 
His  stern  commands  cannot  avail, 
His  earnest  exhortations  fail : 
It  falls ; — and  with  it  falls  forever 
The  hope  of  God's  redeeming  favor, 

To  those  who  dared,  with  awful  blindness, 
Abuse,  so  for,  his  loving-kindness. 

XLIII. 

But  David's  hill, 
Mount  Zion,  still, 
In  Simon's  hands,  opposes  brief  defence, 
Till  lofty  mounds  are  there  erected ; 
And  soon  the  tyrant,  unprotected, 
Flies  to  the  caves,  and  hopes  to  escape  from  thence  j 
Yet  soon  submits,  in  coward  mood, 
And  seals  his  treason  with  his  blood ; 


60 


JERUSALEM. 


While  those  whom  clement  Titus  saves 
Are  doomed  to  be  a  race  of  slaves ; 

And  haughty  John  no  more  disdains 

A  servile  lot,  in  captive  chains. 


The  fight  is  done, 
The  victory  won ; — 
The  work  of  ruin  but  begun. 
The  dead  lie  thick  as  autumn  leaves, 
Festering  and  mouldering ; 
The  torch  is  set  to  many  a  pile, 
In  spacious  street,  and  dark  defile, 
Where  none  obstructs,  and  no  one  grieves  ; 
The  city  seems  a  sea  of  fire ; 
Each  house  becomes  a  funeral  pyre, 
Blazing  and  smouldering ; 
Till  vengeance,  satiate,  sheathes  her  glaive, 
And  myriads  find  a  common  grave. 
Lastly  proceeds  the  demolition 
Of  tower,  and  wall,  and  strong  munition. 
With  pick,  and  bar,  and  piercing  wedge, 
With  battering  ram,  and  ponderous  sledge, 
They  tear  the  massive  rocks  asunder, 
And  hurl  them  down  with  noise  of  thunder ; 
Break  up  the  streets,  clear  off  the  alleys, 
And  with  the  rubbish  fill  the  valleys  ; 
While  brother  soldier  vies  with  brother, 

Till  naught  is  seen  but  desolation, 
And  not  one  stone  upon  another 

Betrays  the  work  of  devastation  ; 
But  over  all,  both  street  and  wall, 


JERUSALEM. 

The  mantle  of  oblivion  is  spread  ; 
Destruction's  dark  and  gloomy  pall 

Burying  alike  the  city  and  the  dead : 
And  thus  the  Roman  engines  and  their  swords 
Sadly  fulfil  our  Lord's  prophetic  words. 

XLV. 

Three  towers  alone, 
Of  wondrous  height, 
By  Herod  built,  by  Titus  spared, 
Served  to  make  known 
The  former  site, 
Where  Zion's  walls  had  once  been  reared. 
Yet  even  those, — 
In  course  of  time,  the  Jews  designing 

To  build  Jerusalem  again, 
And  gradually  their  force  combining, 

Led  on  by  bold  and  artful  men ; — 
Those  towers,  at  Adrian's  stern  decree, 

Were  crumbled  down  by  potent  blows, 
And  all  the  Jews  compelled  to  flee ; 
While  slowly  o'er  the  ruins  rose 
A  new-built  city,  grand  and  gay, 
Where  Roman  nobles  long  held  sway, — 
JElia,  Capitolina,  then — 
Since  conquered  by  the  Saracen. 

XL  VI. 

There  pious  Helena  erected 

The  church  so  reverently  prized, 
Above  the  Holy  Sepulchre ; 
There  Constantine  the  Great  protected 
G 


61 


JERUSALEM. 

The  Christian  name,  so  much  despised, 
Out  of  his  filial  love  to  her. 
There  Julian  the  apostate  vainly  durst 
Attempt  the  Jewish  temple  to  restore, 

And  thus  depreciate  the  Christian  name. 
Forth  from  the  ground  the  blazing  fireballs  burst ; 

With  ruined  heaps  the  earth  was  covered  o'er, 
And  soon  those  works  were  wrapped  in  quenchless 
flame. 

XLVII. 

Thus,  onward,  as  the  city  grew, 

'Twas  for  the  Christian,  not  the  Jew. 

And  though  proud  Chosroes,  Persia's  lord, 

Besieged  and  won  it  by  the  sword, 
Its  Christian  monuments  demolished, 
Its  Christian  institutes  abolished, 

And  myriads  were  doomed  to  bleed 

For  clinging  to  the  Christian  creed ; 
The  storm  soon  ended : — 
Heraclius  the  brave, 

The  monarch  of  Byzantium, 

And  noblest  prince  of  Christendom, 
Drove  the  invader  from  the  field, 
Forced  him  reluctantly  to  yield, 
Rescued  the  holy  grave, 

And  thus  the  Christian  cause  defended. 

XLVIII. 

But  now  Mohammed's  baleful  star 

Uprose,  resplendent ; 
His  conquering  arms,  both  near  and  far, 

Gained  the  ascendant. 


JERUSALEM.  O 

Arabia's  deserts,  Persia's  plains, 
And  Syria's  populous  domains, 
Their  spirits  quelled,  their  forces  cowered, 
Were  soon  by  Arab  troops  o'erpowered ; 
And  thus,  in  turn,  by  long  blockade, 
With  help  of  many  a  renegade, 
By  martial  skill,  and  toils  incessant, 

The  Moslem  lion, 
The  Caliph  Omar,  plants  the  crescent 
Upon  Mount  Zion ; 
Yet  spares  the  Christian  name  and  rites, 
When  good  Sophronius  invites ; 

But  builds  the  mosque  which  bears  his  name 
On  Mount  Moriah's  sacred  heights ; 

And  there,  emblazoned  still  with  fame, 
The  Mosque  of  Omar  holds  its  place, 
The  glory  of  the  Moslem  race. 
Thenceforth,  Jerusalem,  arrayed 
In  captive  fetters,  long  obeyed 
The  Caliphs  who  in  Bagdad  reigned ; 

But  though  by  Moslem  power  oppressed, 
And,  oft,  by  tyranny  distressed, 
Her  former  churches  still  remained, 
And,  oft,  the  pilgrims  of  the  west 
Wended  their  way  to  Palestine, 
To  worship  at  the  holy  shrine ; 
Though  Egypt's  sultan,  Ahmed  bold, 
Brief  time,  its  destinies  controlled. 

XLIX. 

But  when  the  furious  Turcoman 
The  Bagdad  caliphate  o'erran, 


64  JERUSALEM. 

With  rapine,  fire,  and  sword ; — 
When  Togrul  Beg,  the  Seljook  khan, 

Became  Judea's  lord  ; — 
The  Christian  name,  the  Christian  race, 
Were  doomed  to  shame,  and  deep  disgrace ; 
The  pilgrim's  long  and  holy  yearning 
Was  met  by  insolence,  and  spurning, 

By  cruel  threats,  and  haughty  boasts ; 
And  many  a  palmer,  home  returning, 
Brought  tidings  back  to  Europe's  hosts, 
Of  wrongs,  to  weary  wanderers  done, 
Would  stir  the  blood  of  age, 
Would  rouse  the  young  to  rage, 
And  stimulate  alike  the  wrath  of  sire  and  son. 

L. 

Then  rose  the  startling  call ; 
Then  spread  the  general  cry ; 
"  To  arms,  ye  heroes ;  Christians  all ! 
To  arms,  and  on  to  Palestine ; 
Hasten  to  free  the  holy  shrine ! 
Banish  amusement,  quit  your  work  ! 
Away,  to  fight  the  impious  Turk ; 
Resolved,  by  Providence  divine, 
Beneath  the  symbol  of  the  cross, 
Your  guarantee  from  every  loss, 
To  conquer,  or  to  die !" 

LI. 

'Twas  Peter's  voice,  which  thus  was  heard, — 

The  hermit  monk  of  France  : 
Pope  Urban  seized  the  echoed  word, 

His  projects  to  advance : 


JERUSALEM.  65 

And,  soon,  a  wild  and  motley  throng, 

The  layman  and  the  priest, 
The  young,  and  old, 
Timid,  and  bold, 
A  rabble,  eighty  thousand  strong, 

Were  marching  to  the  East. 
They  scathed  the  country  like  a  storm, 

And  deluged  it  with  vice ; 
They  passed,  like  locusts  in  a  swarm, 

On  to  the  plains  of  Nice ; 
And  there,  by  Solyman,  were  met : 
With  Christian  blood  the  field  was  wet ; 

And  there  instead  of  stones, 
The  conqueror,  so  insolent, 
A  broad  and  lofty  monument 

Erected  with  their  bones. 

LII. 

But  noble  Godfrey  of  Bouillon 
Another  host  is  leading  on, 

To  glory,  or  the  grave ; 
And  with  him  to  the  rescue  ride 
His  brother  Baldwin  by  his  side, 

Robert  the  bold,  of  Normandy, 

And  all  the  flower  of  chivalry, 
The  pious  and  the  brave. 
No  rabble,  theirs, — but  men  of  might, 
Equipped  and  marshalled  for  the  fight, 

Led  by  a  splendid  cavalcade, 

All  eager  for  the  first  crusade. 

LIU. 

Each  right  shoulder  bears  the  appointed 

Symbol  of  the  Lord's  Anointed ; 
G* 


JERUSALEM. 

Each  is  shriven,  cheered,  and  blest: 
Thus,  the  red  cross  proudly  wearing, 
And  their  sacred  banners  bearing, 

At  the  Church's  high  behest, 
On  they  march,  all  dangers  daring, — 
Onward,  from  the  mighty  west. 
Through  Germany, 
And  Hungary, 
And  o'er  Roumelia's  plains, 
They  force  their  way  to  Asia, 

And  the  sultan's  wide  domains : 
Nice  surrenders 
Its  defenders ; 
Solyman  resists  in  vain  ; 
And  they  hasten  through  Galatia, 
Leaving  heaps  of  Moslem  slain. 
Antioch,  their  next  obstruction, 

Holds  them  longer  time  at  bay  ; 
Till,  effecting  its  reduction, 

They  at  length  resume  their  way. 

Syrian  valleys  soon  are  past, 

And  the  mountains  hanging  o'er  them : 

And  the  warriors  at  last, 
See  Jerusalem  before  them  ! 
Tears  bedewing  every  eye  ; 
"  Vengeance !"  is  their  battle  cry. 

LIV. 

Then  begins  the  bloody  siege, 
With  its  daring  labors  ; 

Each  brave  soldier,  and  his  liege, 
Vying  with  their  neighbors. 


JERUSALEM.  67 

Again  the  mountain  tops  around, 

With  armed  warriors  are  crowned  ; 

Again  the  valleys  rage  and  roar 

With  fierce  alarms, 

And  clash  of  arms, 

And  shouts  of  warriors  fighting,  flying, 

And  groans  of  wounded  soldiers,  lying 

Mid  streams  of  gore ; 
And  yells  of  fallen  Paynims  dying. 

The  walls  once  more, 
By  ponderous  engines  fiercely  battered, 
Are  gradually  pierced  and  shattered, 
Until  a  deadly  breach  is  made ; 
Then,  without  parleying,  or  halt, 
Each  red-cross  knight 
Armed  for  the  fight, 
With  lance,  and  shield,  and  flashing  blade  ; 
The  Christians  march  to  the  assault, 

Mount  the  wide  breach,  a  countless  swarm, 
And  take  Jerusalem  by  storm. 
Then,  Paynim  blood  flows  like  a  river, 
With  none  to  rescue,  or  deliver ; 
For  thus  the  conquering  crusaders 
Take  vengeance  on  those  fierce  invaders, 
With  shouts  that  make  the  welkin  ring ; 
And  Godfrey  is  saluted  king. 

LV. 

The  goal  is  won ;  but  oh,  the  cost ! 

WThat  myriads  of  heroes  lost ! 
Even  those  who  conquer  and  survive, 
With  difficulty  live  and  thrive ; 


68  JERUSALEM. 

While  Turk  and  Saracen  alike 
Await  their  turn,  a  blow  to  strike, 
And  fresh  recruits  alone  sustain 
The  Christian  forces  that  remain  ; 

Till  sore  oppressed,  and  half  dismayed, 
To  Europe  they  appeal  for  aid. 

LVI. 

Their  cry  is  heard  with  deep  regard, 
And  echoed  back  by  Saint  Bernard ; 
The  pope  Eugene  his  influence  lending, 
To  aid  the  Christians  there  contending. 
Then  Conrad,  lord  of  Germany, 

And  Louis,  king  of  France, 
Lead  on  their  choicest  chivalry, 

With  bannerol  and  lance ; 
They  pass  Constantinople's  gates, 
Are  ferried  o'er  its  narrow  straits, 
Pursue  their  march,  in  eager  haste, 
O'er  Asia's  half-deserted  waste, 
Until  the  Paynim  foe  they  meet, 

In  mountain  pass,  and  dark  defile ; 
And  there  experience  sad  defeat, 

Through  treachery  and  guile. 
The  monarchs  mourn  their  armies  slain, 
And  visit  Palestine  in  vain. 

LVII. 

But  now,  illustrious  Saladin, 
A  Syrian  officer,  by  right, 
But  Egypt's  sultan,  by  his  might, 
Extends  his  conquests  far  ; 


JERUSALEM. 

Subdues  Damascus,  and  at  length, 
Exulting  in  his  growing  strength, 

Attempts,  perforce,  to  overwhelm 

The  newly  founded  Christian  realm, 
Beneath  the  storm  of  war. 
Each  noble  hearted  paladin 

Girds  his  sword,  and  grasps  his  shield, 
Mounts  his  steed,  and  seeks  the  field, 

To  meet  the  furious  fray  : 
Royal  Guy  of  Lusignan, 
King  and  hero,  leads  the  van, 

On  that  hapless  day. 
Near  the  banks  of  Jordan's  flood 

The  battle  is  begun ; 
Jordan's  waters  stream  with  blood, 

When  the  fight  is  done  ; 
But  the  scanty  phalanx  fails, 
And  the  Saracen  prevails, 

Ere  the  set  of  sun. 

LVIII. 

Soon  the  Egyptian  forces  swarm, 
Void  of  fear  or  pity  ; 

Soon  a  thr eating  line  they  form, 
Round  the  holy  city. 

Again  the  walls  are  battered, 

And  the  ramparts  pierced  and  shattered, 
Until  the  palmers  ope  the  gates, 
The  garrison  capitulates  ; 

Jerusalem,  once  more  forlorn 

From  Christian  hands  is  rudely  torn ; 
And  where  the  cross  at  morn  was  gleaming, 
The  crescent  flag  at  eve  is  streaming. 


69 


70  JERUSALEM. 


Sad  the  news,  which  swiftly  flies, 
And  fills  the  nations  with  surprise. 
But,  arousing  from  despair, 
Clement,  in  the  papal  chair, 
Summons  forth  immediate  aid, 
Urging  on  the  third  crusade. 
Europe's  mightiest  monarchs,  then, 
Lament  the  loss, 
Assume  the  cross, 
And  band  to  fight  the  Saracen. 
Red-beard  Frederick  leads  his  hosts, 
Lords  of  many  a  German  castle, 
Lofty  knight,  and  lowly  vassal, 
Landward  through  Natolia's  coasts  ; 
At  Iconium  meets  a  foe, 
Quells  its  sultan  at  a  blow ; 
Presses  on,  from  fields  of  slaughter, 

Over  mountains  capped  with  snow  ; 
Bathes  in  Cydnus'  chilling  water, 
And  in  death  is  soon  laid  low. 
But  his  army,  from  Cilicia, — 

Though  deprived  of  his  command, 
Still  advances,  through  Phenicia, 
And  attains  the  Holy  Land. 

LX. 

Thither  come  the  Gallic  forces, 
Led  by  Philip  the  August ; 

Volunteers  from  various  sources, 
The  romantic,  and  robust; 

But,  avoiding  well  known  dangers, 


JERUSALEM. 

From  the  wiles  of  eastern  strangers, 

They  the  seaward  pass  assay  ; 
Genoa's  fleet  for  this  is  chartered, 
And  for  gold  its  service  bartered, 

To  assist  them  on  the  way. 
Meantime  Richard,  lion-hearted, 
With  his  army  has  departed, — 

Bravest  king  of  England's  line ; 
And,  embarking  at  Marseilles, 
Notwithstanding  adverse  gales, 

He  arrives  in  Palestine. 

LXI. 

All  the  Christian  forces,  eager, 
Mighty  Saladin  beleaguer, 

Cooped  in  Ptolemais'  walls : 
Long  and  bravely  he  maintains  them 
Till  the  Christian  army  gains  them, 
And  the  leaguered  city  falls  ; 
Saladin  perforce  retreating, 
To  await  another  meeting, 
On  a  more  successful  day, 
When  the  Christian  forces,  meagre, 

Shall  become  an  easy  prey. 
Philip,  then,  no  longer  zealous, 
But  of  Richard's  valor  jealous, 

Quits  the  strife  without  delay  ; 
And  the  English  hero,  glorious, 
Though  at  Ascalon  victorious, 
Sees  his  army  melt  away  ; 
Finds  the  Moslem  growing  stronger, 
Till  his  feeble  troops  no  longer 

Need  protract  his  useless  stay; 


71 


72  JERUSALEM. 


Then,  retiring,  disaffected, 
Leaves  the  land,  by  truce  protected, 
To  the  Sultan's  generous  sway. 


Other  heroes  tried  in  vain 
Zion's  fortress  to  regain ; 
Other  efforts  were  put  forth, 
But  they  proved  of  little  worth. 

Baldwin,  Count  of  Flanders,  next, 
Weak  Constantinople  vexed, 
And,  with  dubious  renown, 
Gained  an  empire  and  a  crown  : 
But,  with  such  a  prize  content, 
To  the  East  no  farther  went ; 
Neglected  what  he  came  to  save, 
And  rescued  not  the  Saviour's  grave. 
After  him,  upstarted  then, 
John,  the  daring,  of  Brienne, 
With  a  formidable  force, 
He  to  Egypt  steered  his  course, 
And  advancing  past  Rosetta, 
Seized  the  town  of  Damietta : — 
But  by  famine  sore  oppressed, 
And  by  foe  and  flood  distressed, 

All  his  plans  were  soon  defeated, 
And  his  followers  retreated. 
Not  a  tithe  of  his  command 
Ever  reached  the  Holy  Land. 

LXIII. 

Frederick  Second,  Hohenstaufen, 
Who  had  long  in  splendor  reigned, 


JERUSALEM.  73 


From  Al  Camel,  Egypt's  sultan, 

Next  Jerusalem  regained ; 
Which  beneath  the  German  sceptre 

For  a  season  brief  remained, 
Till  the  roving  Tartars  seized  it, 

And  a  longer  time  retained. 
Last  of  all,  the  good  Saint  Louis, 

France's  champion  and  king, 
Sailed  to  Egypt,  with  his  armies, 

Thence  deliverance  to  bring. 
But  the  pestilence  pursued  him, 

Many  followers  were  slain ; 
And  the  Mussulman  subdued  him, 

That  his  efforts  were  in  vain. 
He  appeared  in  Palestine, 

After  this  disaster, 
Kneeling  at  the  holy  shrine, 

Not  its  lord  and  "master. 
To  his  kingdom  then  returning, 

Ruled  he  wisely  there  and  well, 
Till,  with  pious  ardor  burning, 

He  in  Tunis,  warring  fell. 

LXIV. 

Still  the  Christians  of  Judea 

Strive  their  conquests  to  regain  ; 
On  the  coast  of  Caesarea 

Struggling  bravely,  but  in  vain. 
One  by  one,  their  towns  are  taken ; 

Ptolemais  is  the  last; 
And,  by  Christendom  forsaken, 

Hopes  of  rescue  now  are  past. 
7 


74  JERUSALEM. 

Vain  the  efforts  of  the  knights 
Of  the  Temple,  and  St.  John ; 

Egypt's  sultan  fiercely  fights, 
Till  the  victory  is  won. 

LXV. 

And  thus,  in  gloomy  sadness,  fades 
The  glory  of  the  wild  Crusades. 

Though  Europe's  choicest  blood  and  treasure 

Were  lavished  without  stint  or  measure, 
And  millions  of  the  strong  and  brave 
Perished,  the  Holy  Land  to  save; 

Unblest  of  heaven,  their  efforts  failed, 

And  still  the  Saracen  prevailed. 
Jerusalem  must  meet  her  doom, 
A  living  tenant  of  the  tomb, 

To  each  invading  foe  a  prey, 

Until  her  cup  shall  pass  away. 

LXVI. 

Although  the  conquering  Tamerlane, 
Mongolia's  potent  lord, 

Swept  o'er  Damascus'  fertile  plain, 
With  all  his  Tartar  horde, 

And  vanquished,  as  in  arms  they  met, 

The  Turkish  sultan,  Bajazet; 

Yet  Egypt's  sultan  kept  his  throne, 

And  Palestine  remained  his  own. 
But  when  the  Tartar  storm  had  past, 

And  death  had  laid  the  conqueror  low ; 
The  Turkish  empire  spreading  fast, 

And  rescued  from  that  fearful  blow  ; — 


JERUSALEM.  75 

Stern  Selim  then  put  forth  his  might, 

Confiding  in  his  prosperous  star  ; 
And  bravest  warriors  quailed,  in  fight, 
Before  his  flashing  cimetar. 
Aleppo  saw  the  bloody  fray, 
When  Egypt's  sultan,  Tuman  Bey, 

Fled  from  the  fatal  field  ; 
When  Syria  and  Egypt  fell ; 
And  many  a  lofty  citadel, 

In  turn,  was  forced  to  yield ; 
And  then,  Jerusalem,  for  aye, 
Until  the  curse  shall  pass  away, 
Thy  destiny  was  sealed  ! 

LXVII. 

No  consecrated  temple,  now, 
Adorns  Moriah's  sacred  brow ; 

No  gilded  cross  is  beaming  ; 
But  on  the  circling  parapet, 
And  over  many  a  minaret, 

The  crescent  flag  is  streaming. 
No  joyous  peal  of  Christian  bells, 
With  notes  harmonic  richly  swells, 

To  cheer  the  Lord's  Day  morning, 
But  the  muezzin's  evening  call 
Is  faintly  heard  from  turret  wall, 

To  Moslem  worship  warning. 
Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre, 
What  sacrilegious  massacre, 

And  scenes  of  fierce  contention 
Between  the  Greek  and  Latin  priests, 
Are  witnessed  at  thy  holy  feasts, 


76  JERUSALEM. 

As  proofs  of  sad  declension ! 

Although  the  Armenian  convent  still 

Extends  its  walls  on  Zion's  hill ; 
And  Greek  and  Latin  monks  beside 

Have  each  their  station, 
And  pilgrims  meet,  at  holy  tide, 

From  every  nation  ; — 
The  turbaned  Turk  is  ruler  there ; 
His  word  is  law,  his  frown,  despair; 

His  purpose  rarely  foiled ; 
His  will  is  stern  ;  his  passions,  keen ; 
His  nature,  sensual  and  mean, 

By  gross  indulgence  spoiled. 
No  rising  walls  attest  the  growth 
Of  streets  where  all  is  stagnant  sloth  ; 

No  busy  marts  appear ; 
The  arts  are  palsied  ;  science,  dead ; 
While  apathy  and  slavish  dread, 

Betray  the  tyrant  near. 

LXVIII. 

And  shall  it  ever  thus  remain 

Till  time  is  ended  % 
Must  Zion  hopelessly  complain, 
Still  unbefriended  1 
No  ! — If  the  fancy's  quickened  sight 
Interpret  prophecy  aright, — 
Her  woes  and  pains  shall  soon  be  o'er, 
Her  foes  shall  fall  to  rise  no  more ; 
Her  night  of  grief  shall  pass  away, 
And  usher  in  a  glorious  day  ! 


JERUSALEM. 

The  Lord  shall  build  Jerusalem, 
And  comfort  her  waste  places ; 

Her  brow  shall  bear  a  diadem 
Of  brightest  Christian  graces. 

Her  streets  and  gates  shall  he  renew, 

And  make  them  beautiful  to  view ; 
Her  stately  palaces  shall  stand 
In  long  array  on  either  hand ; 

Her  open  courts  and  busy  marts, 

Shall  teem  with  wonders  of  the  arts ; 
Her  walls  shall  rise,  with  lofty  towers, 
Safe  from  surprise  by  mortal  powers ; 

Her  temple  shall  be  renovated, 

And  on  Moriah  consecrated, 

In  architecture  far  more  splendid, 
By  larger  audience  attended, 

With  richer  gifts  and  rarer  store, 

Than  temple  ever  had  before. 

Her  manly  sons  no  more  shall  roam 
In  foreign  lands  to  seek  a  home ; 

No  longer  shall  her  lovely  daughters 

Desponding  mourn  by  distant  waters  ; 
But  homeward  they  shall  gladly  hie, 
As  dovelets  to  their  windows  fly ; 

And  strangers  freely  join  with  them, 
To  ornament  Jerusalem. 


Nations  from  afar  shall  nourish, 

And  maintain  her  realm  secure ; 
Her  domain  shall  ever  flourish, 

While  the  sun  and  moon  endure. 

7* 


77 


78  JERUSALEM. 

Justice,  there,  and  candid  truth, 
Shall  abide  in  blooming  youth ; 
Cheerfulness  and  sanctity 
Ever  dwell  in  harmony  ; 
God  shall  be  her  sure  defence, 
Guardian  of  her  innocence. 

In  her  shall  be  no  more  distress  ; 

All  violence  shall  cease  ; 
Her  rulers  shall  be  righteousness, 

Her  officers  be  peace ; 
And  in  songs  of  gratulation 

They  shall  pass  their  happy  days ; 
For  her  walls  shall  be  salvation, 
And  her  gates  shall  all  be  praise. 

LXX. 

Nor  ends  the  glorious  vision  here, 

Nor  owns  the  bounds  of  time  ; 
But  soars  beyond  earth's  dull  career, 

To  wonders  more  sublime. 
For  lo  !  in  radiant  renown, 

Before  our  startled  eyes, 
The  New  Jerusalem  comes  down, 

Resplendent  from  the  skies. 
The  holy  city  of  our  God 

Stands,  admirably  fair, 
As  measured  by  the  angel's  rod, 

Twelve  thousand  furlongs  square. 
Its  jasper  walls,  of  matchless  height, 
On  gemmed  foundations  glittering  bright, 

Uphold  the  apostles'  names ; 
And  each  pearl  gate,  though  never  barred, 


JERUSALEM.  79 

Attended  by  an  angel  guard, 

A  tribe  of  Israel  claims. 
Its  streets  are  laid  with  shining  gold ; 
Its  mansions,  glorious  to  behold, 

Of  adamantine  stone ; 
And,  redolent  with  balmy  air, 
It  needs  no  other  temple  there 

But  God's  eternal  throne. 
Thence  flows  a  fount  of  boundless  love, 
And  waters  all  those  courts  above, 

With  streams  of  ceaseless  joy  ; 
While  trees  of  life,  on  either  side, 
Their  fruits  ambrosial  still  provide, 

A  feast  without  alloy. 
No  storm  is  there,  nor  gloomy  night ; 
No  sun,  nor  moon,  nor  borrowed  light, 

Revolves  the  hours  away ; 
The  Lamb  on  Calvary's  mountain  slain, 
Illumines  that  celestial  plain 

With  everlasting  day. 
No  fraud,  nor  falsehood,  craft  nor  guile, 
No  evil  spirit,  shall  defile 

Those  bright,  supernal  bowers ; 
But  countless  hosts  of  angels  blest 
Shall  there  enjoy  eternal  rest, 

And  pass  their  blissful  hours. 
The  saints  shall  there  in  glory  stand, 
With  harps  and  palms  in  either  hand, 

And  view  their  Saviour's  face. 
There,  robed  and  crowned,  a  shining  throng 
Shall  sing  the  glad  and  grateful  song 

Of  God's  redeeming  grace. 


80  JERUSALEM. 

Almighty  Father,  be  it  mine, — 
And,  gentle  Reader,  be  it  thine, — 

To  choose  the  heavenly  road ; 
That  when  to  earth  we  bid  farewell, 
Our  souls  may  rise,  and  ever  dwell 

In  that  divine  abode  I 
There  may  we  meet,  by  heaven  approved, 
The  dear  departed,  still  beloved, — 

Not  lost,  but  gone  before  ; 
And  there,  together,  may  we  raise 
Loud  anthems  of  immortal  praise, 

When  time  shall  be  no  more ! 


FINIS, 


LADS     DEO,     8EMPITERNA. 


LIFE    AND    DEATH 


[77<i.s  Poem  was  written,  by  special  invitation,  for  the  Jubilee  Cele- 
bration, at  Oxford  Academy,  N.  Y.,  August  2d,  1854,  but  has 
since  been  expanded.] 

"  So  live,  that,  when  thy  summons  comes  to  join 
The  innumerable  caravan  that  moves 
To  that  mysterious  realm,  where  each  shall  take 
His  chamber  in  the  silent  halls  of  death, 
Thou  go  not,  like  the  quarry-slave,  at  night, 
Scourged  to  his  dungeon  ;  but,  sustained  and  soothed 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grave, 
Like  one  that  draws  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams." — Bryant. 


Awake,  my  Harp,  to  hail  this  happy  day  ! 
Awake,  and  summon  forth  thy  noblest  lay ! 
Attune  thy  numbers  to  a  lofty  theme ; 
For  such  alone  becomes  the  Poet's  dream : 
Ring  out  thy  tones,  the  sweetest  and  the  best, 
Then  sink,  rejoicing,  to  thy  final  rest. 

ii. 
Great  Fount  of  Life,  and  source  of  endless  love  ; 
Be  Thou  my  Life !     Inspire  me  from  above  ! 
Thou  who  dost  still  prolong  my  feeble  breath, 
Thou  who  canst  save  from  everlasting  death, 
Be  Thine  the  humble  tribute  which  I  bring, 
And  Life,  and  Death,  the  themes  of  which  I  sing. 


82  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 


III. 


But  where  begin  ?     How  shall  we  comprehend 
That  which  hath  neither  origin  nor  end  1 
Shall  we,  with  infidels,  ignore  a  cause  ? 
Disown  the  Sovereign,  while  we  own  his  laws  1 
Shall  we  make  Chance  a  God  ?  and  argue  still 
That  all  things  happen  blindly  at  its  will  % 


Or  shall  we  deem  there  is  a  latent  force, 
Some  Power  creative,  from  an  unknown  source, 
Which,  self-impellent,  acts,  with  vigor  rife, 
And  thus  hath  brought  a  universe  to  life  1 
Some  plastic  ^Eon,  ever  on  the  wing, 
Whence  nascent  forms  of  primal  beauty  spring1? 

v. 

No !  be  it  ours  to  judge,  in  better  wise, 
That  "  out  of  nothing,  nothing  can  arise :" 
No !  be  it  ours,  who  feel  His  chastening  rod, 
To  "  look  from  nature  up  to  nature's  God ;" 
While  nature's  book,  in  every  page  and  line, 
Reveals  the  print  of  majesty  Divine. 


He  is  the  source  of  life,  in  all  its  forms ; 

In  plants  or  reptiles,  winged  things  or  worms ; 

In  men  and  angels,  earth,  and  air,  and  ocean ; 

In  stars  and  planets,  whose  sole  life  is  motion : 

All  life  is  but  the  flatus  of  His  breath ; 

And  where  He  breathes  not,  there  is  darkening  death. 


LIFE    AND    DEATH.  83 


VII. 


That  effluent  Life  a  threefold  life  became ; 
Mysterious,  glorious,  Trinity  by  name ; 
As  from  the  Father  sprang  the  eternal  Son, 
Ere  yet  creation's  work  had  been  begun ; 
As  issued  from  these  twain  the  Holy  Ghost, 
Ere  earth  was  born,  or  sang  the  starry  host. 


How  wonderful  the  mystery,  to  find 
Such  perfect  union  in  the  Essential  mind ! 
What  radiant  majesty  and  beauty  beam 
Around  the  tri-united  Elohim, 
As  the  dim  roll,  to  ancient  ages  sealed, 
Is  by  the  Gospel's  glorious  light  revealed  ! 

IX. 

Yet  not  in  heaven  would  God  reside  alone, 
With  clouds  and  darkness  round  His  awful  throne. 
Amid  the  darkness  broods  the  Holy  Dove, 
And  even  the  thunders  echo,  "  God  is  love." 
Love  seeks  an  object :  true  love  never  dies, 
But  multiplies  its  image  in  the  skies. 

x. 

There  first,  to  serve  Him,  mid  celestial  day, 
He  formed  the  angels,  in  their  bright  array  ; 
Dominions,  principalities,  and  powers, 
In  upper  Eden's  amaranthine  bowers, 
With  cherubim,  and  seraphim,  to  wait, 
In  shining  ranks,  around  his  heavenly  state. 


84  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 


XT. 


That  secondary  life,  beneath  His  light, 
How  rich,  and  pure,  harmonious  and  bright ! 
But  when,  eccentric,  from  its  sphere  it  burst, 
How  dark  and  baleful,  horrid  and  accursed ! 
Thus,  life  itself,  to  vice  become  a  slave, 
Results  in  death,  more  dreadful  than  the  grave. 

XII. 

When  Satan  sought  to  usurp  the  Almighty's  seat, 
And  force  his  God  to  worship  at  his  feet, 
Well  might  the  arrows  of  Jehovah  fly, 
To  drive  that  haughty  spirit  from  the  sky  ; 
Till  rebel  angels  found,  with  endless  cost, 
That  first  for  them,  a  Paradise  was  lost. 


But  what,  had  all  the  hosts  of  heaven  rebelled ; 
And  from  those  Jpeauteous  mansions  been  expelled  ; 
Could  not  Creative  power,  to  fill  their  place, 
Replenish  heaven  with  a  more  numerous  race  1 
To  this  great  end  the  eternal  mandate  ran ; 
And  thus  a  universe  its  life  began. 

xiv. 

For  this,  that  realm  of  dark  and  smouldering  fire, 
Of  empty  horror,  and  chimseras  dire, 
Where  dismal  Chaos  held  his  primal  reign, 
Beyond  the  crystal  walls  of  heaven's  domain, 
God  chose,  to  be  His  theatre  sublime, — 
Infinitude,  alike,  of  space,  and  time. 


LIFE    AND    DEATH.  85 


Then  came  the  dread  fiat,  "  Let  there  be  light," 
Then  shrank,  aghast,  the  empty  shades  of  night, 
Then,  passive  matter  felt  attractive  force ; 
Then  kindred  atoms  sought  a  mutual  course ; 
While  those  remote  in  different  circles  whirled, 
And  each  dense  vortex  formed  its  proper  world. 


Each  cloud-like  nebula,  the  more  compressed, 
Became,  thereby,  more  distant  from  the  rest ; 
Turning,  as  water  through  the  funnel  flows, 
Or  in  a  spiral  the  swift  whirlwind  blows ; 
Yet  tending  thence,  centrifugal  to  spring, 
As  flies  the  stone  from  the  revolving  sling. 

XVII. 

At  length,  a  circling  mass,  suspense,  remained, 
An  annulus,  self-balanced  and  sustained ; 
And  while  the  nucleus  still  denser  grew, 
That  outer  ring  became  condensed  anew, 
Till  thus  the  planet  farthest  from  the  sun 
Was  left,  in  endless  orb,  its  course  to  run. 


Meantime  new  planets  in  succession  sprung, 
And  equipollent,  on  their  axes  hung ; 
Or,  segregating,  left  successive  coils; 
And  satellites  were  moulded  from  the  spoils  ; 
All,  except  Saturn,  planet  of  renown, 
Which  saved  one  ring,  to  form  a  starry  crown, 
8 


36  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 


Thus,  in  its  turn,  our  fair  and  genial  earth 
Sprang,  with  its  lunar  coronet,  to  birth ; 
Not  then,  as  now,  with  life  and  verdure  teeming, 
But  one  red,  molten  mass,  candescent  gleaming ; 
A  fount  of  fire,  now  cooled,  and  crusted  o'er, 
Whence  the  volcano  still  its  flood  doth  pour. 

xx. 

Dense  clouds  of  vapor  wrapped  our  igneous  globe 

In  the  dim  mantle  of  their  aqueous  robe, 

Ere  rose  the  firmament,  set  to  divide 

The  clouds  on  high  from  ocean's  gathered  tide, 

Till  earth,  reprieved  from  elemental  strife, 

Was  clothed,  at  length,  with  vegetable  life. 

XXI. 

Thus,  a  new  era  here  had  been  commenced, 
And  the  last  planet  in  its  orb  condensed, 
Ere  yet  the  sun  in  glory  stood  alone, 
Ere  yet  the  moon  in  radiant  splendor  shone, 
And  each  concentered  nebula,  afar, 
Became,  at  last,  a  bright  peculiar  star. 

XXII. 

Then,  Power  divine  a  life  instinctive  gave 

To  moving  forms  beneath  the  rolling  wave. 

The  little  nautilus  there  spread  his  sail ; 

There  plunged  the  dolphin,  and  the  mighty  whale ; 

And  there  the  saurian  reptiles  fiercely  strove, 

Or  basked  and  revelled  in  their  palmy  grove. 


LIFE    AND    DEATH.  87 


XXIII. 


Once  more,  as  Life  had  seized  on  death's  domain, 
Death  struggled  to  resume  his  ancient  reign. 
And  death  prevailed :  that  era  passed  away  ; 
A  buried  world  became  his  ravaged  prey ; 
Yet  so  prevailed,  that  still  his  foe  remained, 
And  higher  life  a  nobler  victory  gained. 


For  soon  the  lark  upsoared,  on  rapid  wing, 
At  early  morn,  near  heaven's  gate  to  sing ; 
And  soon  the  lion  shook  his  tawny  mane, 
Roaming*  and  roaring  o'er  the  torrid  plain ; 
While  all  the  birds  of  air,  and  beasts  of  earth, 
In  this  great  period  received  their  birth. 

XXV. 

Thus,  living  creatures  o'er  the  globe  were  spread, 
A  numerous  body,  but  without  a  head. 
Another  link  was  wanting,  to  unite 
The  world  of  matter  with  the  realms  of  light ; 
Till  man  was  formed,  with  heaven-directed  face, 
In  nature's  scale  to  hold  the  highest  place. 


Nor  yet  the  work  was  done,  till  by  his  side, 
Stood  beauteous  Eve,  his  heaven-appointed  bride. 
Then  rang  the  skies  with  bliss  beyond  alloy ; 
Then,  all  the  morning-stars  proclaimed  their  joy  : 
The  universe  in  finished  glory  stood ; 
And  God  surveyed,  "  and  saw  that  it  was  good." 


88  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 


XXVII. 


In  a  bright  vale,  bestrown  with  fragrant  flowers, 
Beneath  the  shade  of  Eden's  vernal  bowers, 
Dwelt  our  first  Parents,  in  their  morning  prime, 
Devoid  of  fear,  and  innocent  of  crime : 
In  happy  mood  their  moments  sped  away, 
And  God  was  with  them  at  the  cool  of  day. 

XXVIII. 

Oh  happy  life,  to  those  fair  creatures  given, 

In  which  they  might  prepare  themselves  for  heaven, 

Like  blest  Elijah,  never  to  expire, 

But  rise  to  bliss,  in  chariots  of  fire, — 

Had  not  a  vengeful  and  insidious  foe 

"  Brought  death  into  the  world,  and  all  our  woe !" 

XXIX. 

But  Satan  came,  and  plied  his  wily  art, 

Deceiving  thus  an  unsuspecting  heart ; 

And  gained  his  end, — yet  double  vengeance  drew 

Upon  himself,  and  all  his  guilty  crew ; 

While  hope,  expiring,  "  bad  the  world  farewell," 

When  Eve  was  tempted,  and  when  Adam  fell. 

XXX. 

Forth  from  his  glory  came  the  Lord  of  light ; 
And  Adam  shrank  in  terror  from  his  sight. 
But  lo  !  the  gracious  Saviour  intercedes, 
And  for  our  ruined  race  in  mercy  pleads; 
"  Behold,  I  come,  with  promise  to  fulfil 
The  awful  mandate  of  Thy  sovereign  will ! 


LIFE    AND    DEATH. 


XXXI. 


89 


The  gracious  Father,  good  as  He  is  just, 
Pronounces  the  dread  sentence,  "  Dust  to  dust !" 
Expels  the  guilty  pair  from  that  sweet  home, 
As  exiles  on  the  earth  awhile  to  roam ; 
Yet  leaves  a  cheering  hope,  all  conflicts  past, 
That  they  shall  rest  in  Paradise  at  last. 

XXXII. 

Thus  sprang  the  poison  root  of  death  anew, 

And  bitter  fruits  upon  its  branches  grew, 

When  Abel,  to  the  altar  having  given 

A  lamb,  the  type  of  Christ,  the  Lamb  of  heaven, 

Himself  a  bloody  sacrifice,  was  slain 

By  jealous  fury  of  his  brother  Cain. 

XXXIII. 

And  need  there  was,  that  death  should  shorten  life, 
When  all  the  earth  was  fraught  with  guilt  and  strife 
When  faith,  and  love,  and  every  virtue  failed, 
While  violence  and  every  vice  prevailed, 
And  in  that  world,  of  innocence  bereft, 
One  righteous  family  alone  was  left. 

xxxiv. 

Then  Noah,  warned  of  God,  nor  warned  in  vain ; 
Upreared  the  Ark,  on  Shinar's  fertile  plain ; 
Type  of  the  Church,  our  refuge,  here  below, 
From  sin  and  shame,  and  wickedness  and  woe ; 
And  type  of  Heaven,  that  blessed  Ark  above, 
Where  all  is  peace,  and  everlasting  love. 
8* 


90  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 


Then  oped  the  fountains  of  the  mighty  deep ;   ■ 

Then  poured  the  torrents  down  the  mountains  steep 

And  all  of  those  gigantic  men  of  blood, 

An  impious  throng,  were  buried  in  the  flood ; 

Presaging  that  more  awful  flood  of  fire, 

When  time  shall  kindle  nature's  funeral  pyre. 

xxxvi. 

So,  when  the  Sodomites  again  renewed 
Those  horrid  scenes  of  moral  turpitude, 
Once  more  the  punitory  torrents  fell, 
With  torments  such  as  haunt  the  fiends  of  hell ; 
And  each  detested  city  found  a  grave, 
Beneath  the  Dead  Sea's  dark  and  briny  wave. 

XXXVII. 

But  now,  to  serve  him  with  a  faith  more  pure, 
Which  should  for  many  centuries  endure, 
God's  favor  was  to  Abraham  displayed, 
With  him  an  everlasting  covenant  made ; 
And  thus  the  mantle  of  salvation  fell 
Upon  the  chosen  tribes  of  Israel. 

XXXVIII. 

Of  that  defence,  how  wondrous  was  the  sign, 
How  dread  the  tokens  of  the  wrath  divine, 
When,  in  the  Red  Sea,  Pharaoh's  marshalled  host, 
O'erwhelmed,  discomfited,  gave  up  the  ghost ! 
And  Moses'  song,  on  that  triumphant  shore, 
Shall  ring  in  heaven,  when  time  shall  be  no  more. 


LIFE    AND    DEATH.  91 


So  Jordan's  waters  shrank  from  Jacob's  God, 
When  Israel's  armies  passed  the  stream  dry-shod ; 
And  Canaan's  guilty  hosts  before  them  quailed, 
While  Joshua's  forces  mid  the  storm  prevailed ; 
The  moon  was  stayed,  and  motionless  the  sun 
O'er  Gibeon  stood,  till  victory  was  won. 

XL. 

Not  so,  dark  Saul,  at  Endor's  cave  alarmed, 
Escaped  Philistia's  banded  host  unharmed. 
He,  who  had  trusted  but  in  mortal  might, 
Was  feebly  armed  for  that  disastrous  fight, 
When,  God-forsaken,  he  but  strove  in  vain, 
And  Mount  Gilboa  mourned  a  monarch  slain. 

XLI. 

But  when  fair  David  ventured  forth  alone, 
Trusting  in  God,  with  naught  but  sling  and  stone, 
The  giant  champion  soon  to  earth  he  brought, 
And  thus,  again,  the  solemn  lesson  taught, 
Obedience  is  more  than  sacrifice ; — 
Devotion  lives ;  while  vain  presumption  dies. 

XLII. 

While  David  reigned  in  Salem's  lofty  walls, 
And  tuned  his  harp  in  Zion's  palace  halls ; 
While  Solomon  with  wisdom  linked  his  name, 
And  God's  fair  temple  rose  to  crown  his  fame ; 
A  nobler  life  the  Hebrew  state  impelled, 
Than  mortal  eye  had  ever  yet  beheld. 


92 


LIFE    AND    DEATH. 


And  not  till  royal  David's  lineal  race 
Became  depraved,  degenerate,  and  base, 
Not  till  they  worshipped  idols,  and  their  priests 
Profaned  the  temple  and  its  solemn  feasts, 
Did  God  desert  them,  lay  their  glory  low 
And  leave  them  at  the  mercy  of  their  foe. 

XLIV. 

Then  Babylon's  proud  king  in  vengeance  came, 
And  sacked  Jerusalem  with  sword  and  flame. 
Her  helpless  captives  mourned,  with  silent  tongue ; 
Their  harps,  neglected,  on  the  willows  hung ; 
And  while  they  toiled,  by  Babel's  sullen  wave, 
They  learned  how  sad  it  is  to  be  a  slave. 

XLV. 

When  thus,  repentant,  they  bewailed  their  fate, 
God  had  compassion,  and  restored  their  state. 
Jerusalem  again  was  girt  with  strength ; 
A  second  temple  rose,  complete  at  length, 
More  glorious  far  than  Solomon's ; — for  here 
The  Lord  of  glory  shortly  would  appear. 

XLVI. 

It  came  at  last ; — that  long-expected  time, 
Foretold,  of  old,  by  chronicles  sublime  ! 
God  sent  his  Son,  obedient  to  fulfil 
The  awful  mandate  of  his  sovereign  will ; 
.  And  herald  angels  ushered  in  the  morn, 
When  Christ,  our  Lord,  in  Bethlehem  was  born. 


LIFE    AND    DEATH. 


XLVII. 


Rich  music  rose  from  that  exultant  train, 
And  "  Gloria  in  Excelsis"  was  the  strain  : 
"  Glory  to  God  on  high,  on  earth  be  peace ; 
Good  will  to  men  begin,  and  never  cease !" 
Well  might  the  shepherds  holy  vigils  keep, 
When  the  Great  Shepherd  came  to  save  his  sheep. 

XLVIII. 

Full  soon  was  seen,  in  Eastern  lands  afar, 
The  guiding  light  of  Jacob's  radiant  star, 
Presaging  that  a  glorious  light  divine 
Henceforth  upon  the  Gentile  world  would  shine ; 
While  princely  magi  costly  treasures  bring, 
To  welcome  down  their  heaven-descended  King. 


He  was  the  Light, — before  whose  noontide  beam, 

All  other  light  is  but  a  fitful  gleam. 

He  was  the  Life ; — for  He  alone  could  give 

Eternal  life  to  all  in  Him  who  live. 

For  this  He  came ; — and  all  who  seek  His  grace, 

Shall  yet  behold  their  Saviour,  face  to  face. 


He  came  to  teach  benighted  souls  the  Way 
That  leads  to  mansions  of  eternal  day  : 
He  came  to  be  the  pattern  of  that  Truth 
Which  guards  the  heart  in  everlasting  youth 
And  thus  mid  anguish,  envy,  toil  and  strife, 
To  ope  the  gates  of  everlasting  Life. 


94  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 


LI. 


And  yet,  on  earth,  how  lowly  was  His  lot ! 
When  His  own  chosen  flock  received  Him  not. 
He  shunned  the  proud  philosopher's  renown ; 
He  wore  no  shining  robe,  nor  jewelled  crown : 
The  birds  have  nests ;  the  beasts,  their  quiet  bed ; 
But  Jesus  had  not  where  to  lay  His  head. 

LII. 

On  this,  the  Fiend  who  rifled  Eden's  bower 
Assailed  our  Saviour  with  temptation's  power. 
All  earthly  treasures,  glittering  gold  and  gems, 
All  worldly  pleasures,  thrones,  and  diadems, 
He  vainly  offered, — and  at  last  confessed 
A  higher  power  in  that  complacent  breast. 

Lin. 

Mount  Tabor  viewed  a  still  more  glorious  sight, 

When  the  Redeemer,  robed  in  heavenly  light, 

With  Moses  and  Elias  converse  held, 

And  his  transcendent  glory  so  excelled, 

That  even  the  apostles,  sore  amazed, 

His  Godhead  owned,  and  worshipped  as  they  gazed. 


And  yet,  Gethsemane's  dark  foliage  shed 
A  gloomy  shadow  on  that  sacred  head ; 
When,  in  an  agony  of  prayer,  he  wept, 
While  those  apostles  all  unconscious  slept ; 
When  beamed  the  full  moon  on  the  Paschal  feast, 
And  he  was  both  the  victim  and  the  priest. 


LIFE    AND    DEATH.  95 


LV. 


Betrayed,  arrested,  and,  with  curses  loud, 
Condemned  to  death  by  an  insulting  crowd, 
He  meekly  bore  the  scourging  and  the  scorn, 
The  mocking  robe,  and  piercing  crown  of  thorn ; 
Meekly  beneath  the  heavy  cross  he  bent, 
As  on  the  way  to  Calvary  he  went. 

LVI. 

And  when  he  faltered  on  the  dolorous  road, 
And  sank,  exhausted,  with  his  heavy  load  ; 
When,  on  the  cross  suspended,  sad  and  faint, 
He  to  his  Father  breathed  his  last  complaint ; 
When  the  bright  sun,  in  that  unclouded  sky, 
Darkened  to  see  his  mighty  Maker  die ; — 

LVII. 

Oh,  what  a  signal  and  triumphant  shout 
From  hell's  dark  host  exultantly  rang  out ! 
How  Satan  revelled,  gloating  o'er  his  spoil, 
As  if  success  had  crowned  his  impious  toil ! 
How  flushed  the  foe,  and  hailed  the  happy  day, 
That  heaven  was  foiled,  and  earth  become  his  prey ! 


But  no !     The  great  Messiah  only  waits 

The  appointed  hour,  to  burst  his  prison  gates, 

To  rise,  and  reign,  omnipotent  to  save, 

Triumphant  over  Satan  and  the  grave, — 

Victorious,  even  at  his  expiring  breath; 

While  life  immortal  thus  springs  forth  from  death. 


96  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 


LIX. 


Behold  him,  upward  borne,  on  viewless  wing, 
While  heaven,  rejoicing,  welcomes  back  its  king ! 
Lo  !  choirs  of  angels  swell  the  anthem's  tone, 
As  blest  Immanuel  resumes  his  throne ; 
And  thus,  that  life,  which  veiled  itself  in  love, 
Opens  for  us  the  blissful  courts  above. 

LX. 

His  name  shall  last,  his  kingdom  shall  extend, 

To  latest  time,  and  earth's  remotest  end. 

His  praise  shall  be  prolonged,  from  shore  to  shore, 

Till,  at  his  summons,  time  shall  be  no  more : 

And  then,  how  blest  will  that  existence  be, 

His  voice  to  hear,  his  face  forever  see  ! 

LXI. 

Oh  who  would  not  rejoice,  and  swell  the  strain 
Of  glory  to  the  Lamb  that  once  was  slain ; 
Who  left  the  pomp  of  his  celestial  halls, 
To  rescue  us  from  Satan's  deadly  thralls, 
And  gained  for  us,  in  brighter  worlds  than  this, 
A  life  entranced,  of  everlasting  bliss  ! 


And  what  is  Life  1 — 'Tis  not  a  formal  round 
Of  useless  motion  and  of  empty  sound  ; 
'Tis  not  the  thirst  for  pleasure  which  incites 
To  guilty  joys,  and  riotous  delights : 
'Tis  action,  noble  feeling,  soul  and  sense ; 
And  that  most  real,  which  is  most  intense. 


LIFE    AND    DEATH.  97 


LXIII. 


There  is  a  life  of  plants  ;  a  change  of  state, 
Wherein  they  bud,  and  bloom,  and  vegetate, 
Furnish  their  fruit  our  senses  to  regale, 
And  fill  their  place  in  nature's  ample  scale. 
Then,  scattered  on  the  ground,  neglected  lie  ; 
And  men  there  are,  more  uselessly  who  die. 

LXIV. 

There  is  a  life  of  animals :  which  roam 
Over  the  plain,  or  mid  the  ocean's  foam, 
Or  skim  the  air,  or  crawl  beneath  the  earth, 
Fulfilling,  thus,  the  object  of  their  birth, — 
Yet  seek  no  higher  end,  or  nobler  aim  ; 
And  oh !  how  many  mortals  do  the  same  ! 

LXV. 

There  is  a  social  life,  of  varied  ties, 
Whence  all  the  bonds  of  brotherhood  arise ; 
Where  each,  in  turn,  kind  offices  fulfils, 
And  charity  like  morning  dew  distils, 
While  each  in  his  appointed  circle  moves, 
And  reason  sanctions  it,  and  heaven  approve*. 

LXVI. 

It  is  a  life  of  industry  and  toil, 
Reclaiming  wastes,  and  mellowing  the  soil ; 
It  drives  the  plough,  the  loom,  the  rapid  train, 
Rears  the  rich  fabric,  and  the  golden  grain  ; 
It  builds  the  mansion,  throngs  the  busy  street, 
And  lays  the  wealth  of  India  at  its  feet. 
9 


98  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 


LXVII. 


It  fills  the  school,  it  wields  the  press  and  pen ; 

It  rears  the  college, — nursery  of  men  ! 

Erects  asylums,  where  the  deaf,  the  blind, 

And  lunatics,  a  safe  retreat  may  find ; 

It  crowns  the  church,  to  lead  our  thoughts  on  high, 

With  spires  and  turrets,  pointing  to  the  sky. 


Thus,  linking  all  in  one  harmonious  band, 
It  scatters  countless  blessings  o'er  the  land ; 
Yet  seeks  its  centre, — there  more  strongly  acts, 
As  gravity,  when  nearest,  most  attracts ; 
And  wearied,  o'er  the  circling  earth  to  roam, 
Finds,  in  the  family,  its  happy  home. 

LXIX. 

The  family, — sole  ark  of  earthly  rest, 

Of  peace  the  nucleus,  and  of  love  the  nest, 

Home  of  our  dearest  friends  and  richest  treasures, 

Scene  of  our  purest  joys,  and  highest  pleasures, 

The  family,  to  mortal  cares  was  given, 

By  Love  divine,  to  train  our  hearts  for  heaven. 

LXX. 

There  is  a  life  of  nations  : — it  imbibes 
Its  early  nourishment  from  feeble  tribes, 
Which  spread  abroad,  with  open  arms  to  clasp, 
Whatever  comes  within  their  widening  grasp, 
Absorbing  all  around  them,  by  degrees; 
As  rivers  spring  from  rills,  and  run  to  seas. 


LIFE    AND    DEATH. 


99 


While  nations  thus  advance,  to  riper  years, 
Each  with  its  own  marked  character  appears, 
Graved  by  the  passing  finger  of  events, 
Stamping  their  very  form  and  lineaments ; 
And  each  development  from  youth  to  age, 
Is  pictured  forth  in  History's  glowing  page. 


'Tis  thus  we  read  of  Egypt's  servile  fate, 

And  the  decline  of  Persia's  royal  state ; 

Thus  speak  of  Greece  with  all  her  classic  charms, 

And  lordly  Rome,  omnipotent  in  arms ; 

Thus  cherish  England,  cradle  of  the  free, 

And  thus,  our  country,  fondly  turn  to  thee ! 

LXXIII. 

Nations,  like  men,  may  pass  their  vigorous  prime, 
Become  diseased  by  vice,  depraved  by  crime ; 
May  lose  their  rank,  betray  their  noble  trust, 
Then  sink  in  blood,  or  crumble  into  dust; 
And  many  a  buried  city  is  the  tomb 
Which  marks  a  recreant  people's  fatal  doom. 

LXXIV. 

Where  now  is  Memphis'? — Egypt's  ancient  pride? 
Whelmed  in  the  waves  of  time's  resistless  tide ! 
What  now  is  Thebes  ? — the  glorious  and  grand  1 
A  lonely  waste,  amid  the  desert  sand  ; 
Where  Memnon's  vocal  statue,  voiceless,  lies, 
And  sculptured  walls  in  solemn  ruin  rise. 


100  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 

LXXV. 

On  Susa's  plain  the  timid  jackals  prowl, 
And  nightly  hoots  the  solitary  owl : 
The  mighty  stream  of  ruin  overwhelms 
Persepolis,  that  queen  of  ancient  realms  ; 
And  bold  the  traveller,  who,  from  afar, 
Would  seek  for  Shushan,  or  for  Istakhar. 

LXXVI. 

Palmyra,  with  its  stately  groves  of  palms, 
Whose  name,  the  fame  of  Solomon  embalms, 
Great  Tadmor  in  the  desert, — is  become 
Itself,  at  last,  the  wandering  Arab's  home : 
And  Balbec,  which  once  shared  its  glorious  state, 
Now  shares,  alike,  its  melancholy  fate. 

LXXVII. 

Petra  yet  stands,  mysterious,  and  alone, 

A  city  petrified,  in  living  stone. 

But  Tyre's  proud  walls  are  sunk,  to  rise  no  more, 

Her  massive  columns  scattered  on  the  shore  ; 

And  Troy,  which  once  achieved  a  deathless  fame, 

"  Troy  was,"  but  is  no  longer,  save  in  name. 

LXXVIII. 

Great  Babylon,  seat  of  imperial  power, 
And  erst  the  site  of  Babel's  impious  tower, 
Whose  walls  were  once  the  wonder  of  the  world, 
Down  from  her  pinnacle  of  splendor  hurled, 
Is  fallen  ; — so  that  scarce  yon  grassy  heaps 
Mark  where  Judea's  mighty  conqueror  sleeps. 


LIFE    AND    DEATH.  101 

LXXIX. 

And  Nineveh,  so  populous  and  dread, 
So  long  the  buried  city  of  the  dead, 
Exhumed,  at  last,  by  British  skill  and  gold, 
What  wondrous  tales  does  Nineveh  unfold ! 
Though  stranger  things  hereafter  shall  be  shown, 
When  we  shall  know,  as  also  we  are  known. 

LXXX. 

My  country,  shall  it  ever  be  thy  lot 

Thus  to  decay,  and  almost  be  forgot  1 

Shall  future  pilgrims,  groping  o'er  the  plain, 

Seek  for  the  site  of  Washington  in  vain, 

Till  some  deep  shaft,  beneath  some  lofty  mound, 

Reveal  the  fact  that  Washington  is  found  1 

lxxxi. 

Not  while  the  Bible  sheds  its  sacred  light, 
To  guard  the  truth,  and  guide  our  minds  aright; 
Not  while  the  Church  and  Sabbath  do  their  part, 
To  chain  the  passions,  and  to  mend  the  heart ; 
Not  till  the  spirit  which  has  waked  the  earth, 
Shall  perish  in  the  land  that  gave  it  birth. 


Almighty  Father,  by  whose  fostering  hand 
We  yet  united  and  securely  stand, 
Protect  us  still  from  jealousy  and  strife, 
Preserve  our  Union,  and  renew  its  life : 
Always,  and  everywhere,  grant  this  to  be, 
For  every  race,  the  country  of  the  free ! 


102  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 

LXXXIII. 

While  cities  thus  have  sunk  by  sword  and  flame, 
What  streams  of  blood  have  flowed  in  freedom's  name ! 
What  fierce  and  cruel  wars  have  long  been  waged ; 
What  furious  battles  oftentimes  have  raged ; 
While  tyranny  has  dealt  the  fatal  blow, 
Or  Liberty  has  laid  the  tyrant  low ! 


Tims  Greece  her  early  laurels  nobly  won, 

Battling  for  right  at  bloody  Marathon. 

Thus  fell  her  heroes  at  Thermopylae ; 

Thus  Salamis  proclaimed  her  people  free ; 

Thus  at  Platea  fell  the  invading  host ; 

And  Persia's  troops  were  driven  from  her  coast. 

LXXXV. 

But  when,  with  arms  against  each  other  turned, 
Athens  and  Sparta  in  fierce  contest  burned, 
When  ^Egos  Potamos,  with  distant  roar, 
Echoed  her  victory  back  to  Sparta's  shore ; 
When  Athens  fell,  and  Sparta,  wild  with  sway, 
Sent  thirty  tyrants  to  devour  her  prey ; 

LXXXVI. 

And  when  proud  Sparta,  more  presumptuous  grown, 

'Gainst  Thebes  and  Athens  sought  to  rule  alone. 

But  all  her  high  pretence  was  forced  to  yield, 

At  Leuctra,  and  on  Mantinea's  field, — 

The  way  was  then  prepared  for  Greece  to  fall, 

And  one  stern  chief  to  triumph  over  all. 


LIFE    AND    DEATH.  103 


LXXXVII. 


Thus,  Alexander,  autocrat  at  home, 
For  conquest  was  inspired  abroad  to  roam ; 
Thus,  daring,  plunged  in  the  Granicus'  flood ; 
And  conquered,  still,  at  Issus'  field  of  blood ; 
Thus,  at  Arbela,  seized  on  Persia's  crown  ; 
Then  died,  a  victim,  thirsting  for  renown. 

LXXXVIII. 

So  Rome,  her  eagle  banners  once  unfurled, 
With  force  united,  mastered  all  the  world. 
Pyrrhus,  who  at  Pandosia  prevailed, 
At  Asculum  and  Beneventum  failed  : 
Back  to  Epirus,  then,  his  force  he  led ; 
And  Italy  acknowledged  Rome  its  head. 


And  Hannibal,  such  prodigies  who  wrought, 
At  the  Ticinus  and  the  Trebia  fought, 
Who  conquered,  still,  beside  Lake  Thrasymene, 
And  smiled,  at  Cannae,  o'er  the  bloody  scene, 
Yet,  dallying  with  pleasure,  at  the  last, 
Was  swept  away,  like  leaves  before  the  blast. 


His  brother,  at  Metaurus  nobly  slain, 
Left  him  to  seek  auxiliaries  in  vain ; 
Till,  summoned  back,  his  country  to  defend, 
At  Zama  his  successes  found  an  end. 
An  exile,  then,  he  met  his  hapless  fate  ; 
And  Carthage  soon  became  a  Roman  state. 


104  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 


XCI. 


Next,  Macedonia  was  made  to  feel 

The  force  of  Roman  troops,  and  Roman  steel, 

At  Cynocephalae,  where  heroes  bled, 

And  Pydna,  whence  king  Perseus  basely  fled ; 

Till  the  Achaean  League  to  fragments  broke, 

And  Greece  submitted  to  the  Roman  yoke. 

xcn. 

Thus  Rome's  proud  arms  to  Asia  forced  their  way, 

And,  at  Magnesia,  gained  a  bloody  day. 

Thus  Syria,  in  its  turn,  subdued  in  war, 

Yielded  to  Pompey's  culminating  star ; 

While  Gaul,  o'erpowered  by  Caesar's  skill,  at  length, 

Enlarged  the  empire,  but  reduced  its  strength. 

XCIII. 

And  not  till  patriotic  zeal  was  gone, 

Not  until  Caesar  crossed  the  Rubicon  ; 

Till,  at  Pharsalia,  Rome  'gainst  Roman  stood, 

And  Actium's  bay  was  red  with  kindred  blood, 

Did  Roman  glory  wing  her  eagle  flight 

To  the  deep  shades  of  everlasting  night. 

xciv. 

Then  tyranny  its  ancient  power  regained, 
And  vice,  progressive,  o'er  the  empire  reigned. 
Then  Roman  prowess  in  oblivion  slept, 
And  fatal  weakness  o'er  her  members  crept, 
Till  Rome  experienced,  with  expiring  breath, 
Freedom  is  life,  and  tyranny  is  death. 


LIFE    AND  DEATH.  105 


XCV. 


The  work  of  ruin,  by  the  Goths  begun, 
Was  stayed  by  Attila,   the  dreaded  Hun, 
Whose  piety  the  helpless  city  spared, 
Though  vEtius  at  Chalons,  his  forces  dared : 
Yet,  Rome's  chief  monuments,  for  ages  stored, 
Were  swept  to  ruin  by  the  Vandal  horde. 

xcvi. 

Oh!  who  shall  tell  how  many  a  contest  dire, 
Far  deadlier  than  earthquake,  flood,  or  fire, 
In  modern  times  has  laid  its  victims  low, 
And  filled  the  earth  with  wickedness  and  woe ; 
While  thus  the  wrath  of  man,  in  wondrous  ways, 
Hath  wrought  God's  will,  or  ended  to  His  praise  ! 


What  numbers  fell  on  Xeres'  fatal  plain, 

When  base  Don  Roderic  lost  the  crown  of  Spain ! 

What  heroes  perished  on  the  field  of  Tours, 

When  Charles  Martel  drove  back  the  invading  Moor! 

At  Fontenay  how  many  a  bloody  lance, 

Where  brothers  struggled  for  the  throne  of  France ! 

xcvin. 

On  Hastings'  field  what  heaps  of  dead  were  strown, 
When  Norman  William  gained  the  English  throne ! 
What  hosts  of  warriors  drew  their  shining  blades, 
And  rushed  to  glory  in  the  fierce  Crusades ! 
Of  all  those  hosts,  how  few  the  favored  men 
Who  ever  saw  their  native  land  again  ! 


106  LIFE    AND    DEATH, 

XCIX. 

How  fierce  the  shock,  when  Scotland,  in  her  turn, 
Repelled  the  English  hosts  at  Bannockburn ! 
How  sank  the  French  at  Cressy  and  Poitiers ! 
From  Agincourt  how  many  a  bloody  bier ! 
And  what  rejoicing,  when,  upon  their  track 
The  Maid  of  Orleans  drove  the  English  back  ! 


What  fierce  contention,  and  disastrous  fight 
Sprang  up  between  the  Red  rose  and  the  White ! 
Towton  and  Hexham,  saw  the  White  rose  bloom  ; 
Barnet  and  Tewksb'ry  gave  it  ample  room : 
Yet,  stained  with  blood,  it  soon  was  forced  to  yield, 
When  cruel  Richard  fell  at  Bosworth  field. 

ci. 

What  havoc  dire  in  Flod den's  fatal  fray, 

When  Scotland's  king  among  the  slaughtered  lay  ! 

How  shuddered  Europe  at  the  awful  news, 

The  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew's  ! 

And  how  rejoiced,  when  Philip's  naval  pride 

The  grand  Armada,  sank  beneath  the  tide ! 

en. 

How  Germany  was  marked  by  many  a  scar, 
In  Thirty  Years  of  fierce  religious  war  ! 
And  though,  at  Lutzen,  great  Adolphus  bled, 
And  Nordlingen  was  heaped  with  Swedish  dead, 
Yet  Prague  was  by  the  Protestants  regained, 
And  thus  the  Reformation  was  sustained. 


LIFE    AND    DEATH.  107 


cm. 


How  slept  the  brave  on  Blenheim's  meadows  green, 
Slaughtered  by  Marlborough  and  Prince  Eugene ! 
How  the  young  life  of  France  was  thrown  away, 
At  Ramilies,  Oudenarde,  and  Malplaquet ! 
And,  at  Poltava,  how  did  thousands  bleed, 
Through  vain  presumption  of  the  royal  Swede ! 


At  Dettingen,  what  waste  of  human  life, 
At  Fontenoy  and  Val,  what  bloody  strife  ; 
All  to  decide,  what  justice  might  have  shown, 
Who  should  be  seated  on  the  German  throne ! 
And  at  Quebec,  what  daring  deeds  were  done, 
Where  French  America  was  lost  and  won ! 

cv. 

But  Britain  met  a  heavier  loss  than  this, 

Through  selfish  aims,  and  policy  amiss, 

When  Freedom's  flag  at  Lexington  was  raised, 

When  Bunker  Hill  mid  Freedom's  thunder  blazed ; 

When  Saratoga  pledged  her  full  redress, 

And  Yorktown  crowned  her  efforts  with  success. 

cvi. 

Yet  bloodier  fires  o'er  Europe's  valleys  swept, 
While  orphan  throngs,  and  widowed  myriads  wept, 
When,  at  Marengo,  France  to  victory  rushed. 
And  Austria's  power  at  Austerlitz  was  crushed ; 
Though  on  the  sea  shone  England's  conquering  star, 
At  Aboukir,  and  glorious  Trafalgar. 


108  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 

CVII. 

Nor  ended  thus  the  strife  for  power  supreme, 

At  Jena's  field,  or  Moskwa's  fatal  stream, 

Till  Leipsic's  plain  had  shared  the  slaughter  too, 

And  hosts  had  bled  at  gory  Waterloo, 

Where  he,  whose  name  was  haloed  with  renown, 

Forever  lost  an  empire  and  a  crown. 

CVIII. 

So  Mexico  was  sternly  forced  to  yield 
On  Buena  Vista's  well  remembered  field ; 
So  fell  her  soldiers,  trampled  like  the  grass, 
At  Vera  Cruz,  and  Cerro  Gordo's  pass ; 
And  her  vain  army  crumbled,  like  a  wreck, 
At  Churubusco,  and  Chapultepec. 


So  fell  the  crest  of  Russia's  towering  pride, 
When  driven  from  the  Alma's  frowning  side. 
Her  wounded  eagle  fluttered  from  the  plain, 
O'er  ghastly  heaps  at  Balaklava  slain ; 
Her  highest  hopes  at  Inkermann  were  crossed ; 
And  thus,  at  length,  Sebastople  was  lost. 

ex. 

Oh,  swiftly  come  the  heaven-appointed  day, 
When  war  and  tumult  shall  have  passed  away ! 
When  men  no  more  shall  raise  the  cry,  "  To  arms, 
Nor  the  loud  tocsin  ring  with  dire  alarms ; 
When  crime  and  discord  evermore  shall  cease, 
And  nations  cultivate  the  arts  of  peace ! 


LIFE    AND    DEATH.  109 


CXI. 

Lastly,  there  is  a  life, — how  deep,  intense, 
Incomprehensible  to  outward  sense, 
Which  each  must  feel,  yet  cannot  all  control, 
Within  the  hidden  chambers  of  the  soul ! 
A  life,  which,  be  it  reprobate  or  pure, 
The  good  enjoy,  the  wicked  must  endure. 

CXII. 

It  holds  communings  with  the  world  around, 
Sees  every  object,  lists  to  every  sound ; 
Chooses  its  course,  trims  to  the  passing  gale, 
As  ships,  at  sea,  unfurl  or  reef  the  sail, 
Yet  oft  makes  wreck  of  all  it  holds  most  dear, 
Even  when  the  storm  is  past",  the  haven  near. 

CXIII. 

Then,  reminiscent,  often  it  looks  back, 
And  marks  the  mazes  of  its  devious  track, 
Or  sees,  with  joy,  its  courses  rightly  steered, 
Its  distance  gained,  and  every  danger  cleared, 
And  confident  in  Him  who  gave  it  strength, 
Looks  forward  to  a  happy  goal  at  length. 

cxiv. 

How  blest  that  life,  which,  conscious  of  no  ill, 
Has  ever  striven  its  duty  to  fulfil ; 
Has  marked  its  way  by  many  a  kindly  deed, 
As  some  fair  stream  with  verdure  fills  the  mead 
And  when  its  destined  work  on  earth  is  done, 
Shall  fade  in  glory,  as  the  setting  sun ! 
10 


110  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 

CXV. 

How  different,  a  life  in  folly  spent, 
Without  one  noble  aim,  or  great  intent ! 
Selfish  and  frivolous,  deformed  and  base, 
Leaving  no  lasting  good,  no  lovely  trace, 
Such  life  is  but  a  living  death  below, 
A  death  to  peace,  a  birth  to  endless  woe. 

cxvi. 

There  is  a  death,  how  terrible  and  grim ! 
Which  dwells  mid  lurid  lights,  and  spectres  dim ; 
Where  conscience  bars  the  sufferer  from  sleep ; 
And  the  lost  spirit  can  but  wail  and  weep ; 
Where  feeds  the  vampyre  worm,  and  gluts  his  ire, 
Amid  the  torments  of  devouring  fire. 

cxvu. 

Lord  of  all  power  and  might !  be  Thou  our  shield ; 
And  may  we  never  to  the  tempter  yield ! 
Through  life's  brief  pilgrimage  our  footsteps  guide, 
Or  in  the  vale,  or  on  the  mountain's  side ; 
And  when  the  light  of  time  shall  fade  away, 
Kaise  us,  at  last,  to  everlasting  day ! 

CXVIII. 

Oh,  glorious  life,  to  saints  immortal  given  ! 
Mid  all  the  bliss  and  majesty  of  heaven  ! 
Oh,  blest  abode,  where  every  care  shall  cease, 
And  every  murmur  shall  be  hushed  to  peace ! 
Oh,  happy  hour,  blest  bridal  of  the  soul, 
When  we,  at  last,  shall  reach  that  final  goal ! 


LIFE    AND    DEATH.  Ill 

CXIX. 

And  lo  !  it  comes ! — the  resurrection  morn  ! 
Great  day,  for  which  all  other  days  were  born ! 
Behold  the  Judge,  from  heaven's  high  arch  descending ! 
Behold  the  angel  bands,  their  Lord  attending  ! 
List  to  the  trump,  that  shakes  creation  round, 
And  wakes  the  myriads  slumbering  underground ! 

cxx. 

The  sea  gives  up  its  dead ;  the  rending  tomb 

Proclaims  the  universal  day  of  doom  ! 

They  rise  to  life,  waked  by  His  powerful  voice, 

Some  to  deplore,  and  many  to  rejoice  ; 

They  meet,  to  part,  on  time's  remotest  shore ; 

Eternity  shall  see  them  meet  no  more ! 

cxxi. 

Now,  wrapped  in  flames  of  purgatorial  fire, 
Exhausted  nature  sinks  upon  its  pyre. 
Devouring  flames  surround  the  solid  globe, 
Vapors  and  clouds  the  dreadful  scene  enrobe ; 
And  while  the  elements  in  fury  burn. 
Primeval  chaos  threatens  to  return. 

cxxii. 

But  see  ! — another  and  more  glorious  earth, 
Formed  from  the  ruin,  springing  into  birth ! 
Of  sin  and  woe  it  bears  no  stain,  nor  trace  ; 
The  home,  perchance,  of  yet  another  race, 
Whom  Satan,  chained,  shall  never  more  enthral, 
Who  ne'er  shall  suffer,  and  can  never  fall. 


112  LIFE    AND    DEATH. 

CXXIII. 

And  lo  !  with  radiant  light,  of  gorgeous  hue, 
The  new  Jerusalem  descends  to  view ! 
With  walls  of  jasper,  glorious  to  behold, 
With  gates  of  pearl,  and  streets  of  shining  gold, 
Its  mansions  fair  are  built  by  God's  own  hand, 
Firm  as  the  sky,  eternally  to  stand. 

CXXIV. 

There  shall  the  saints  in  endless  glory  meet, 
And  ever  worship  at  the  Saviour's  feet. 
Arrayed  in  glittering  robes  of  spotless  white, 
And  crowned  with  diadems  of  sparkling  light, 
With  victor  palms,  and  harps  of  tuneful  joy, 
His  praises  shall  their  grateful  hearts  employ. 

cxxv. 

No  sun,  for  them,  with  feeble  beams  shall  shine, 
The  Lamb  of  God  shall  be  their  light  divine : 
No  waning  moon  shall  speed  their  nights  away, 
Amid  the  radiance  of  eternal  day  ; 
No  summer's  heat,  nor  winter's  cold  shall  sting 
Nor  blast  the  verdure  of  perennial  spring. 

CXXVI. 

There  shall  the  fount  of  life  unceasing  flow : 
There  shall  the  tree  of  life  unfading  grow, 
There  the  Good  Shepherd  his  blest  flock  shall  lead, 
And  there,  on  fruits  celestial  they  shall  feed ; 
There  shall  his  saints  behold  him  face  to  face, 
And  rest  forever  in  his  loved  embrace. 


LIFE    AND    DEATH.  113 

CXXVII. 

No  mortal  want  shall  ever  reach  their  breast, 
No  fear  disturb  them,  and  no  care  molest ; 
But  with  the  holy  angels  they  shall  throng, 
And  join,  anew,  in  that  immortal  song, 
"  Worthy  the  Lamb,  that  once  for  us  was  slain, 
At  God's  right  hand  omnipotent  to  reign  !" 

CXXVIII. 

Who  would  not  leave  a  changing  world  like  this, 

For  such  a  world,  of  pure,  ecstatic  bliss  ? 

Who  would  not  soar,  on  wings  of  faith  and  love, 

To  join  that  blessed  company  above; 

And  realize,  with  life's  expiring  breath, 

That  Love  divine  hath  triumphed  over  death ! 

Racine,  Wis.,  July,  1854. 
10* 


JUVENILE 


MISCELLANEOUS     POEMS 


HOME. 


These  lines  were  written  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  during  a  long 
absence  from  the  paternal  roof;  and  are  preserved  only  as  a 
memento  of  the  sentiment  which  inspired  them — 

"  Be  it  ever  so  humble,  there's  no  place  like  home.1' 

When  far  from  our  friends,  to  the  bosom  of  strangers, 

In  search  of  some  fancied  enjoyment  we  roam, 
Surrounded  by  trials,  encompassed  with  dangers, 

How  oft  we  look  back  on  our  far  distant  home  : 
And  whether  success  or  misfortune  befall  us, 

Our  path  intermingled  with  pleasure  or  pain, 
To  what  scenes  soever  life's  pathway  may  call  us, 

We  think  of  our  home  and  our  kindred  again. 

If  Providence  smile,  and  our  toil  be  rewarded, 
Success  crown  our  labors  and  banish  our  fear, 

If  pure  be  our  hearts,  and  our  duty  regarded, 
The  home  of  our  childhood  is  still  counted  dear. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  115 

Though  new  friends  engage  us  with  cheering  attention, 
And  time  shade  the  images  drawn  in  the  mind, 

No  subject  is  ever  more  pleasing  to  mention 
Than  home  and  the  kindred  we  left  far  behind. 

When  storms  are  uplifting  the  waves  of  the  ocean, 

Or  when  the  bright  sunbeams  enliven  the  day, 
When  nature  inspires  us  with  warmest  emotion, 

We  still  think  of  loved  ones  and  friends  far  away. 
When  time  has  fled  by,  and  our  absence  is  finished, 

To  scenes  of  enjoyment  we  cheerfully  come, 
And  still  our  affection  remains  undiminished 

For  much  beloved  kindred  and  thrice  welcome  home. 

Springfield,  Mass.,  Sept.,  1828. 


MOUNT   HOLYOKE. 

WRITTEN    INT    COMMEMORATION     OF    A    VISIT    TO     MOUNT     HOLYOKE,    WITH 
A    TARTY    OF    YOUNG    GENTLEMEN    FROM    SPRINGFIELD. 

Oh  !  who  can  view  from  Holyoke's  height 

The  varied  scene  below, 
Nor  yield  to  feelings  of  delight, 

And  rapture's  deepest  glow  ! 
If  there  be  aught  upon  the  earth 

Of  beautiful  and  fair, 
In  all  the  freshness  of  its  birth 

It  dwells  unrivall'd  there. 


116  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Grand  is  the  rugged  mountain's  form 

Beneath  the  sunbeam's  glow, 
Whose  rocky  brow  has  faced  the  storm 

While  thunders  rolled  below  ; 
And  bright  the  summer-house  uprears 

Its  pinnacle  on  high, 
Whose  beaming  lamp  at  eve  appears 

The  watch-tower  of  the  sky. 

Mount  Tom,  in  endless  verdure  crowned, 

Adorns  the  lovely  view, 
While  lofty  mountains,  rising  round, 

Grow  dim  in  distant  blue ; 
And  rolling  on,  with  swelling  tide, 

Majestic  to  the  main, 
Connecticut,  thy  waters  glide 

Along  the  extended  plain. 

Fair  meadows,  crowned  with  vernal  flowers, 

The  bushy  banks  adorn, 
Where  morning  suns  and  evening  showers 

Mature  the  yellow  corn  ; 
And  gaily  spread  beneath  the  eye 

Are  rising  village  spires, 
And  far  and  near  is  curling  high 

The  smoke  of  village  fires. 

Here  Hadley's  long  and  ancient  street 

In  loveliness  is  dressed, 
And  there  Northampton's  mansions  greet 

The  gazer  and  the  guest ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  117 

And  Amherst,  with  its  college  walls, 

In  distance  melts  away, 
Where  science  lights  her  lofty  halls 

With  reason's  brightest  ray. 

Then  who  can  view  from  Holyoke's  height 

The  varied  scenes  below, 
Nor  yield  to  feelings  of  delight 

And  rapture's  deepest  glow  ! 
If  there  be  aught  upon  the  earth 

Of  beautiful  and  fair, 
In  all  the  freshness  of  its  birth 

It  dwells  unrivalled  there. 

Springfield,  Mass.,  Nov.,  1823. 


CONSTANT  DEVOTION. 

There  are  moments  when  the  mind,  disenthralled  from  earthly 
things,  anticipates  the  vast  future  which  is  to  dawn  beyond  the 
grave,  and  realizes  how  feeble  and  uncertain  is  the  tie  which 
binds  it  to  the  material  world,  the  sunshine  and  the  storm. 

When  the  sun  in  splendor  shines 

From  the  eastern  mountain, 
When  the  shepherd's  flock  reclines 

By  the  crystal  fountain  ; 
When  the  sun  has  crossed  the  sky, 

Sinking  in  the  ocean, 
When  the  silver  moon  rides  high, 

Creating  soft  emotion, — 


118  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Fill  my  spirit,  God  of  love, 
With  thy  boundless  favor ; 

Turn  my  heart  to  thoughts  above, 
And  be  my  guide  forever ! 

When  the  clouds,  extended  wide, 

Hide  the  face  of  heaven ; 
When  the  furious  whirlwinds  ride 

On  the  tempest  driven ; 
When  the  lightning  flashes  bright, 

Bursting  rocks  asunder, 
When  the  hills,  at  dead  of  night,  ' 
Are  shaken  by  the  thunder ; 

Guard  me,  Lord,  from  danger  near, 

Nature  quakes  before  thee, — 
Fill  my  heart  with  holy  fear, 
And  let  my  soul  adore  thee. 

When  are  past  my  brightest  days, 

Into  age  declining ; 
When  this  wondrous  frame  decays, 

Every  sense  resigning ; 
When  the  close  of  life  appears, 
Worlds  unknown  before  me ; 
When  I  leave  this  vale  of  tears, 
And  waves  of  death  roll  o'er  me, 
Fill  my  spirit,  God  of  Love, 
With  thy  boundless  favor  ; 
May  I  rise  to  realms  above, 
And  dwell  with  thee  forever ! 

Plainfield,  N.  Y.,  December.  1824. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  Ill) 


THE  DEATH  SOXG  OF  LOGAK 

"  For  my  country,  I  rejoice  at  the  beams  of  peace.  But  do 
not  harbor  a  thought  that  mine  is  the  joy  of  fear.  Logan  never 
felt  fear.  He  will  not  turn  on  his  heel  to  save  his  life.  Who  is 
there  to  mourn  for  Logan  ?     Xot  one  !" 

Logan's  Speech  to  Lord  Duxmore. 

Oh,  bright  are  the  skies  in  the  land  of  the  sun, 
Where  brave-hearted  warriors  to  glory  have  gone ! 
My  heart  throbs  exultant,  that  glory  to  see ; 
And  soar  to  the  land  of  the  great  and  the  free. 

Oh,  fleet  are  the  deer  in  those  mountains  of  light ; 
And  swift  are  the  buffaloes  bounding  in  flight ! 
But  the  arrow  of  Logan  more  swiftly  shall  fly 
When  he  hunts  the  wild  elk  in  the  land  of  the  sky. 

Oh,  the  chiefs  never  tire,  in  those  evergreen  woods, 
As  they  follow  the  chase,  over  hills,  vales,  and  floods ; 
And  the  sharp-sighted  hunter  ne'er  misses  his  aim, 
When  resting  in  ambush,  awaiting  his  game ! 

Oh,  fierce  is  the  battle,  and  dire  is  the  sight, 

When  warrior  spirits  rush  on  to  the  fight, 

Where  groans  in  the  war-song  of  triumph  are  drowned, 

Aid  victors  with  glory  immortal  are  crowned ! 

Then  where  is  the  coward,  on  earth  who  would  stay, 
When  pleasures  unceasing  invite  him  away  ! 
To  those  blessed  regions  my  spirit  shall  flee ; 
Chen  weep  not  for  Logan,  the  brave  and  the  free. 

Plaix  field,  X.  Y.,  Jan.,  1825. 


120  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE  VISION  OF  LIFE. 

"  Thoughtful,  on  the  solemn,  silent  shore 
Of  that  vast  ocean  we  must  sail  so  soon." 

Dr.  Young. 

Softly  wrapt  in  bliss  elysian, 

On  a  downy  bed  of  rest, 
An  instructive,  wondrous  vision 

Swiftly  passed  across  my  breast ; 
And  the  mazy  paths  of  mortals 

Was  before  my  fancy  spread, 
From  its  dim,  mysterious  portals 

To  the  mansions  of  the  dead. 

I  observed  the  infant  clinging 

To  its  joyful  mother's  arms. 
And  with  every  moment  springing 

Into  youth's  attractive  charms, 
Till  the  smiling  youth  ascending, 

Strove  the  rugged  mount  to  climb, 
Where  the  rays  of  hope  were  blending 

With  the  light  of  truth  sublime. 

Manhood  next,  with  endless  passions, 

In  the  path  before  me  came, 
Ruled  by  habits,  led  by  fashions, 

Seeking  pleasure,  wealth,  or  fame ; 
And  he  toiled  or  sported  nigh  me, 

Pleased  with  bubbles  light  as  air. 
Till  at  length  he  tottered  by  me, 

With  his  staff  and  silvery    hair. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  121 

There  was  careless,  headstrong  folly 

Making  laughter  for  the  gay, 
There  was  lonely  melancholy 

Sadly  pining  life  away  ; 
There  were  pride  and  fortune's  minions 

Ever  seeking  rank  and  power ; 
There  was  love,  with  golden  pinions, 

Lulled  in  beauty's  rosy  bower. 

Genius  there,  with  art  and  science, 

Strove  the  rugged  path  to  cheer ; 
Cautious  reason  bade  defiance 

To  the  wiles  of  hope  and  fear ; 
Cheerful  wisdom  was  inspecting 

Numerous  objects  on  the  road, 
And  religion  was  directing 

To  a  happier  abode. 

Still  was  time  by  far  the  fleetest 

Of  the  mystic  ones  in  view, 
And  his  presence  was  the  sweetest 

As  he  bade  a  last  adieu  ; 
For  the  king  of  terrors  nigh  them 

Ever  stood,  their  watchful  foe, 
And  as  soon  as  time  past  by  them 

He  destroyed  them  at  a  blow. 

I  beheld  him  strike  the  youngest  one, 

And  life  with  him  was  o'er  ; 
I  beheld  him  strike  the  strongest  one, 

The  strong  appeared  no  more ; 


11 


122  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

I  beheld  him  strike  the  boldest  one, 
Who  fell  beneath  his  dart ; 

I  beheld  him  strike  the  oldest  one, 
And  pierce  his  withered  heart. 

But  the  funeral  procession 

My  impressive  vision  broke, 
As,  aroused  by  its  progression, 

From  my  slumber  I  awoke : 
There  were  relatives  condoling 

For  the  beauteous  and  the  brave, 
And  the  solemn  bell  was  tolling, 

As  the  lost  one  pressed  the  grave. 

Plainfield,  N".  Y.,  March,  1825. 


THE  SOCIAL  CUP  OF  TEA. 

"  But  tea,  that  enlivener  of  wit  and  of  soul, 
Is  sweeter  by  far  than  the  bacchanal's  bowl." 

Old  Song. 

When  day  is  done,  and  fades  the  sun 

O'er  landscapes  rich  and  gay  ; 
While  twilight's  gloom,  with  sweet  perfume, 

Succeeds  a  summer  day  ; — 

When  darkness  spreads  her  deepest  shades, 

And  clouds  obscure  the  sky, 
While  torrents  tumble  through  the  glades, 

And  winds  are  raging  high ; — 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  123 

When  snows  appear,  and  all  is  drear, 

A  bleak  and  barren  waste  ; 
While  lofty  woods  and  mighty  floods 

Are  roaring  in  the  blast ; 

When  spring  comes  on,  and  storms  are  gone, 

And  earth  in  verdure  dressed  ; 
While  songs  of  birds,  and  cheerful  words 

Enliven  every  breast ; — 

'Tis  sweet  to  sit  in  pleasure's  bower, 

Prom  care  and  sorrow  free, 
And  taste,  at  evening's  pensive  hour, 

The  social  cup  of  tea. 

Burlingtox,  K  Y.,  April,  1825. 


THE  FLOWER  OF  SPRENTG. 

As  the  Irish  Bard  has  so  beautifully  sung  "The  Last  Rose  of 
Summer,"  perhaps  the  subject  of  the  following  lines,  suggested 
by  it,  will  be  excusable,  hoAvever  simple  and  unassuming. 

How  sweet  was  the  flowret 

First  blooming  in  spring, 
When  zephyrs  breathed  o'er  it 

With  warm,  balmy  wing, 
When  the  humming-bird  hasted 

Its  sweetness  to  share, 
And  the  butterfly  tasted 

Its  treasure  so  rare. 


124  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Its  leaves  were  extended, 

Bright  hues  to  disclose, 
Where  sweetly  were  blended 

The  lily  and  rose : 
While  young  buds  around  it 

Their  fragrancy  shed, 
And  verdant  leaves  crowned  it, 

Adorning  its  bed. 

But  ah !  sadly  changed 

Was  that  flowret  to  view, 
As  lately  I  ranged 

In  the  grove  where  it  grew ; 
The  cold  wind  was  beating 

Its  withering  form, 
The  dark  clouds  were  meeting, 

And  boded  a  storm. 

The  humming-bird  left  it 

When  drooping  its  head, 
The  bee  had  bereft  it 

Of  sweetness,  and  fled  ; 
The  sunbeams  were  shaded 

Which  first  gave  it  birth, 
Its  bright  leaves  had  faded, 

And  sunk  to  the  earth. 

Thus  life's  early  promise, 
The  first  buds  of  bloom, 

Perchance  are  torn  from  us 
And  wrapped  in  the  tomb. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  125 

Thus  transient  their  semblance, 

Thus  swift  their  decay  ; 
And  sweet  their  remembrance, 

When  passing  away ! 

Burlixgtox,  N.  Y.,  April,  1825. 


SOLITUDE  AND  CHEEEFULNESS. 

"  Solitude  is   sweet ;   but  how  much  sweeter,  when  there  is 
some  friend  to  whom  we  can  say,  How  sweet  is  solitude !" 

When  deep  distress,  and  gloomy  care 

Upon  my  heart  intrude, 
I  oft,  with  pensive  steps,  repair, 
To  breathe  alone  the  balmy  air, 

And  seek  the  bower  of  solitude. 

And,  while,  unseen,  I  freely  rove, 

By  bitter  thoughts  subdued, 
I  think  with  calmness,  in  the  grove, 
Of  foes  I  shun,  and  friends  I  love, 

And  own  the  power  of  solitude. 

But  when  the  form  of  hope  is  nigh, 

My  waking  dreams  to  bless ; 
And  when  my  heart  with  joy  beats  high, 
On  wings  of  rapture  then  I  fly, 

To  seek  the  bower  of  cheerfulness. 
11* 


126  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

And  while,  within  the  calm  retreat, 

Dear  friends  around  me  press, 
Oh,  what,  on  earth,  can  be  more  sweet, 
Than  answering  smiles  of  love  to  meet, 
Beneath  the  bower  of  cheerfulness. 

Burlington,  N.  Y.,  April,  1825. 


THE  CKEATIOK 

These  stanzas  were  an  academic  exereisc,  not  intended  to 
broach  any  particular  philosophical  theory.  It  seems  to  be 
now  generally  conceded,  that  the  six  days  of  the  creation  were 
so  many  geological  periods,  indicating  the  successive  stages 
through  which  our  planet  has  passed ;  but  not  the  less  wonder- 
ful and  mysterious  is  the  mighty  agency  by  which  these  changes 
were  produced. 

When  silence  o'er  the  universe 

Her  realm  extended  far, 
Before  the  raging  elements 

Maintained  destructive  war ; 
When  chaos  through  unbounded  space 

Gave  universal  sleep, 
While  yet  the  earth  was  void  of  form, 

"  And  darkness  veiled  the  deep ;" 

Jehovah  thundered  from  his  throne 

And  silence  owned  his  sway ; 
Dread  chaos  then  dissolved  its  charm, 

And  darkness  fled  away. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  127 

"  Let  there  be  light,"  the  Almighty  said, — 

Light  instantly  appeared: 
The  lofty  pillars  of  the  sky 

In  majesty  were  reared. 

The  new-created  sun  arose 

To  gild  the  vault  of  heaven, 
And  all  the  glorious  orbs  of  night 

Were  through  the  ether  driven. 
The  waters  parted  from  the  earth, 

The  land  appeared  in  view, 
And  mountains  swelled,  and  rivers  flowed, 

And  fruits  luxuriant  grew. 

Then  teemed  the  earth  with  living  forms, 

The  terrible  and  fair ; 
And  fishes  cleft  the  crystal  sea, 

And  songsters  winged  the  air. 
And  countless  beings,  bright  and  good, 

The  universe  contained ; 
Yet  'mid  the  brute  and  angel  race 

A  chasm  still  remained. 

Then  man  was  formed  by  skill  divine, 

At  God's  creating  word, 
The  ruler  of  the  peopled  earth, 

The  image  of  his  Lord  ; 
And  blissful  choirs  of  angels  sang 

Their  hymns  before  the  throne, 
As  woman  smiled,  and  God  proclaimed 

Creation's  labor  done. 

Oxford,  N.  Y.,  June,  1825. 


128  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE  DELUGE. 

That  a  Universal  Deluge  once  existed,  is  proved  by  the  con- 
current tradition  of  all  the  ancient  nations,  as  well  as  by  the  most 
indisputable  evidences  of  geology.  This  fact,  therefore,  so  prom- 
inen  tin  Scripture  history,  is  unimpeachable ;  and  even  the  pre- 
existence  of  the  human  race  is  maintained  by  the  same  traditions. 

When  virtue,  peace  and  righteousness 

From  Adam's  race  had  fled, 
When  folly,  vice  and  wickedness 

Had  filled  the  world  with  dread ; 
The  hour  of  vengeance  had  arrived, 

Jehovah's  anger  rose, 
And  justice  called  the  mighty  flood 

To  overwhelm  his  foes. 

Then  Noah  formed  the  sacred  ark, 

Ordained  by  Heaven  to  save 
A  remnant  of  all  living  forms 

From  nature's  watery  grave. 
The  bird  of  air,  the  beast  of  earth, 

Its  spacious  rooms  contain  ; 
While  all  the  sons  of  vice  and  guilt 
In  thoughtless  mirth  remain. 

Then  rushed  the  torrents  of  the  sky, 

And  o'er  the  mountains  spread ; 
The  waters  of  the  raging  deep 

Then  rose  above  its  bed ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  129 

And  shrieks  of  woe — and  sights  of  fear 

Were  mingled  with  the  storm, 
While  o'er  them  rushed  the  foaming  wave 

In  death's  terrific  form. 

The  ark  upon  the  water  rides, 

And  every  tempest  braves, 
Nor  heeds  the  driving  of  the  winds, 

Or  rolling  of  the  waves, 
Till  on  the  mountain's  top  it  stands, 

Secure  from  every  harm, 
Protected  in  its  devious  path 

By  God's  almighty  arm. 

His  sacred  word  Jehovah  gives 

To  drown  the  earth  no  more, 
While  ages  roll  or  time  remains, 

Till  time  itself  be  o'er. 
Upon  the  cloud  he  sets  his  bow, 

A  token  of  his  grace, 
And  still  his  boundless  favors  flow 

To  all  the  human  race. 

Oxford,  N.  Y.,  June,  1825. 


130  MISCELLANEOUS   POEMS. 


LAFAYETTE. 

"I  saw  the  marshals  of  Napoleon,  gorged  with  the  plunder 
of  Europe,  and  stained  with  its  blood,  borne  on  their  flashing 
chariot  wheels  through  the  streets  of  Paris.  I  saw  the  ministers 
of  ISapoleon  filling  the  highest  posts  of  trust  and  honor  under 
Louis  XVIII. ;  and  I  saw  the  friend  of  Washington,  glorious  in 
his  noble  poverty,  looking  down  from  the  dazzling  height  of  his 
consistency  and  his  principles,  on  their  paltry  ambition  and  its 
more  paltry  rewards." — Everett's  Eulogy  of  Lafayette. 

Hail  to  the  chief  who,  in  war's  deadly  slaughter, 

Joined  in  the  struggle,  our  country  to  save ; 
Hail  to  the  hero  that  o'er  the  wide  water 
Comes  to  revisit  the  land  of  the  brave  ! 

Hail  to  our  nation's  guest ! 

Joy  to  his  noble  breast ! 
Wide  be  his  fame,  till  the  last  sun  is  set. 

Hail !  freedom's  champion, 

Brother  of  Washington, 
Welcome,  thrice  welcome,  the  brave  Lafayette ! 

Lone  from  the  host  of  those  warriors  and  sages 

Who  guided  the  tempest  of  war's  dread  alarm, 
He  has  survived  the  departure  of  ages, 

Firm  as  the  oak  which  has  weathered  the  storm. 
Planets  have  glided  by, 
Gilding  fame's  canopy  ; — 
Never  shall  freemen  their  glory  forget ; — 
Still,  while  they  shine  afar, 
Hail  to  the  evening  star, 
Welcome,  thrice  welcome,  the  brave  Lafayette ! 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  131 

Bright  he  the  days  of  our  gallant  defender, 

Long  may  the  green  laurel  twine  round  his  brow, 
Ever  surrounded  with  verdure  and  splendor, 
Pure  as  the  radiance  of  heav'n's  evening  bow. 

When  his  immortal  mind 

Leaves  the  dull  earth  behind, 
Filling  a  nation  with  tears  of  regret, 

Then  ardent  fancy's  eye 

Sees,  in  the  starry  sky, 
Washington's  spirit  rejoin  Lafayette. 

Oxford,  X.  Y.,  Sept.,  1825. 


THE   LANDING  OF  THE  PILGKBIS. 

It  may  be  necessary,  in  avoidance  of  the  imputation  of  pla- 
giarism, to  state  that  these  lines  were  composed,  and  published 
in  a  Boston  paper  by  a  friend  to  whom  they  were  sent,  before 
the  writer  had  seen  Mrs.  Heman's  spirited  poem,  "  The  Pilgrim 
Fathers,"  or  was  aware  of  its  existence. 

The  breeze  is  high  on  the  lonely  shores 

Of  Massachusetts  Bay ; 
The  storm-swept  ocean  loudly  roars, 

And  foams  with  dashing  spray. 

The  coast  is  clad  with  drifted  snow, 

The  forest  stripped  of  bloom, 
Aid  the  sky  above  and  earth  below 

Are  wrapped  in  winter's  gloom. 


132  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

The  panther  springs  from  his  secret  lair. 

The  wolves  at  midnight  howl ; 
And  the  frightened  deer  quails  in  despair, 

As  she  flies  at  their  horrid  growl. 

Away  from  the  shore  is  a  cabin  of  bark, 

Where  the  Indian  hunter  dwells  : 
But  a  shout  comes  over  the  breezes ;  hark ! 

'Tis  the  Indian  warrior's  yells ! 

Those  hostile  tribes,  in  their  deadly  hate,     , 

Have  drenched  the  earth  with  blood, 
And  the  valley  now  is  desolate 

Where  once  the  wigwam  stood. 

The  wind  is  high  on  the  lonely  shores 

Of  Massachusetts  Bay, 
The  skies  are  dark  and  the  ocean  roars 

Mid  foaming  heaps  of  spray. 

But  whence  is  that  vessel  now  heaving  in  sight, 

On  the  distant  Eastern  waves  ? 
Have  her  crew  come  hither  to  join  in  the  fight, 

And  to  find  their  lonely  graves  1 

Or  seek  they  for  fame,  or  dominion,  or  gold, 

In  ambition's  mad  career  1 
Say  whence  are  those  strangers,  so  venturous  and  bold, 

And  what  is  their  object  here  ? 

That  vessel  is  come  from  a  distant  land, 
By  stormy  passions  riven ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  133 

And  her  crew  are  a  holy,  pilgrim  band, 
In  the  special  care  of  Heaven. 

They  came  not  to  join  in  the  savage  fight, 

Nor  hither  for  fame  did  they  flee ; 
But  they  came  to  build,  in  their  Maker's  might, 

An  empire  of  the  free. 

They  came  to  seek  for  an  humble  abode, 

And  erect  a  peaceful  home, 
Where  a  martyr's  blood  had  never  flowed, 

Nor  persecution  come. 

They  came  for  a  refuge  from  vice  and  crime  ; 

They  came  to  escape  from  death, 
As  the  ark  was  preserved,  in  the  olden  time, 

From  the  drowning  world  beneath. 

And  now  their  boat,  by  tempest  tossed, 

Approached  the  dreary  strand, 
Till  the  storm-beaten  rock  of  Plymouth's  coast 

Received  them  safe  on  land. 

The  sun  is  rising  on  the  shores 

Of  Massachusetts  Bay, 
And  o'er  the  verdant  landscape  pours 

The  radiant  beams  of  day. 

But  throughout  its  course  from  east  to  west, 

O'er  all  the  nations  borne, 
It  shines  on  no  country  more  happy  and  blest 

Than  here  salutes  the  morn. 
12 


134  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

And  long  in  ten  thousand  hearts  of  bliss, 
May  the  blood  of  the  pilgrims  flow, 

Who  fled  to  this  dreary  wilderness 
Two  hundred  years  ago. 

Oxford,  N.  Y.,  Oct.,  1825. 


IN  FOEEST  AND  WILDWOOD. 

"  The  lily  that  bends  to  the  breeze  of  the  morning, 
And  yields  its  perfumes  to  the  light  passing  gale, 
May  vie  with  the  wild-briar  rose  in  adorning 

The  moss-covered  cottage  that  stands  in  the  vale. 
But  the  lily  must  wither,  and  soon  fade  away, 

And  the  rose  of  the  wilderness  die  on  its  stem ; 
All  the  flowers  of  the  forest  shall  sink  to  decay, 
While  the  dew-drops  of  nature  are  weeping  for  them." 

Old  Song. 

In  forest  and  wildwood  sweet  flowers  are  blooming, 

When  spring  is  advancing,  or  summer  is  nigh ; 
How  fragrant  their  perfume  when  evening  is  coming, 

How  lovely  and  modest  their  tints  to  the  eye  ! 
How  pleasant  to  meet  them,  when  daylight  is  burning, 

While  wandering  alone  in  the  cool,  shady  grove ; 
How  pleasant  to  bring  them,  when  homeward  returning, 

To  deck  with  their  beauty  the  form  that  we  love  ! 

The  gardens  of  art  brighter  flowers  may  nourish, 
When  spring's  gentle  rays  their  rich  petals  adorn ; 

Where  the  tulip,  the  pink,  and  the  hyacinth  flourish, 
And  the  rose,  newly  blown,  meets  the  blush  of  the 
morn. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  135 

Yet  sweeter  by  far  than  the  gems  of  the  alley, 
Though  gay  as  the  iris  their  colors  may  seem, 

And  dearer,  to  me,  is  the  pride  of  the  valley, 

The  pale,  modest  lily,  that  blooms  by  the  stream. 

But  the  lily  will  foil,  and  the  rose  will  be  faded, 

The  buds  of  the  forest  must  die  on  their  stem ; 
The  earth's  fairest  blossoms  may  soonest  be  shaded, 

While  nature's  bright  dew-drops  are  weeping  for 
them. 
Yet  Eden's  perfume,  and  the  amaranth  bowers 

And  beauties  of  Paradise  ne'er  shall  decay. 
May  the  loveliest  and  sweetest  of  earth's  smiling  flowers 

Be  brightest  and  purest  in  regions  of  day  ! 

"Windsor,  N.  Y.,  Jan.   1826. 


A  YEEXAL  EYEXIXG. 

"  How  sweet  the  moonlight  sleeps  upon  this  bank  ! 
Here  will  we  sit,  and  let  the  sounds  of  music 
Creep  in  our  ears  ; — soft  stillness,  and  the  night, 
Become  the  touches  of  sweet  harmony." 

Merchant  of  Venice. 

The  wintry  storms  have  past, 

Which  swept  along  the  skies, 
No  longer  howls  the  blast, 
But  gentle  zephyrs  rise  ; 
And  nature  smiles,  in  beauty  drest, 
And  pleasure  reigns  in  every  breast. 


136  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

The  noon-day's  heat  is  gone, 

And  twilight  veils  the  bowers  ; 
The  evening  shade  comes  on, 

And  dew-drops  gem  the  flowers  ; 
Like  crystal  tears  from  pity's  eye, 
Or  glitt'ring  stars  which  deck  the  sky. 

Hark  !  hear  the  serenade 

Which  steals  along  the  plains  ; 
Now,  soft  its  accents  fade, 
Then  flow  in  bolder  strains, 
Like  those  of  angels'  harps  sublime, 
Resounding  through  the  starry  clime. 

The  shining  queen  of  night 
Rides  on  the  vernal  sky, 
And  sheds  her  silver  light 
From  azure  realms  on  high : 
Till  mounts  the  sun  in  golden  car, 
And  shines  majestic  from  afar. 

Thus  may  our  moments  glide, 
In  calmness,  love,  and  peace, 
And  wisdom  be  our  guide 

Till  life's  brief  night  shall  cease : 
Then  may  our  spirits  wing  their  wray 
To  brighter  realms  of  endless  day. 

Oxford,  N.  Y.,  April,  1826. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  137 


THE  SAGACIOUS   HIBERNIAN. 

The  tale  on  which  this  scrap  is  founded,  was  repeated  to  the  wri- 
ter by  an  aged  relative,  and,  without  aiming  at  satire,  embodies 
a  lesson  of  human  nature  which  is  deemed  worth  preserving. 

As  Yankee  legends  tell,  in  days  of  yore, 
Ere  liberty  had  blessed  our  happy  states, 
An  Irishman,  impelled  by  kinder  fates, 
His  native  country  left  for  wild  New  England's  shore. 
Upon  the  coast  wThere  Patrick  came 
An  ancient  maiden  happened  to  reside, 

Who  might  be  called  a  very  worthy  dame, 
And  owned  a  cot,  near  Narragansett's  tide. 
For  her  our  Pat  conceived  a  predilection, 

Or  for  her  lands  ! 
And  as  she  had  no  serious  objection, 

To  wedlock's  bands, 
A  parson  therefore  came,  by  Pat's  direction, 
And  joined  their  hands. 
Then  to  the  church  next  Sabbath  fair 
This  happy  couple  did  repair, 
To  see  the  folks,  make  complimentary  speeches, 
"  And  hear,"  said  Pat,  "  how  well  the  parson  preaches." 
The  parson  chose  the  following  text ; 
"  He  that  hath  pity  on  the  poor 

Doth  lend  his  substance  to  the  Lord, 
And  from  his  never-failing  store 

In  this  world  shall  have  rich  reward, 
And  endless  glory  in  the  next."* 

*  Proverbs,  xix.  17. 
12* 


138  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

The  preacher  then,  with  eloquence,  confessed 

That  ministers  were  those  the  text  referred  to, 
(Meaning,  of  course,  himself  among  the  rest,) 
For  they  were  always  poor ;  and  he  averred  too, 
That  they  who  gave  to  him  should  ne'er  be  sorry, 
For  God  would  grant  them  riches  here,  and  endless  glory. 
Pat  was  well  pleased  to  think  that  he  could  gain 

Rewards  on  earth,  as  well  as  future  life ; 
And  thus,  returning  home,  in  merry  strain, 
Addressed  his  wife : 

"  My  dearest  spouse, 
We  very  soon 
Shall  have  ten  cows, 
Instead  of  one : 
For  the  parson,  you  know,  is  a  very  good  man, 
And  he  put  me  in  mind  of  an  excellent  plan  : 
I  will  drive  him  my  cow,  dear,  and  then,  do  you  see, 
A  whole  drove  of  cows  will  the  Lord  give  to  me." 
In  vain  his  wife  tried  to  dissuade  him, 
And  almost  ventured  to  upbraid  him. 
He  took  his  cow  and  gave  her  to  the  priest, 
Who  very  gratefully  his  thanks  expressed, 
And  turned  her  in  a  field  of  blooming  clover, 
Which  all  his  cattle  then  were  grazing  over. 
Patrick  returned,  with  bosom  light 

And  hopes  raised  high  ; 
Although  his  wife  heaved  many  a  sigh : 
But  round  his  house  the  following  night, 
A  noise  was  heard. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Pat,  "  you  now  will  trust  my  word ; 
I  told  you  that  our  cow  would  shortly  come," 
Then  rose,  and  found  her. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  139 

It  seems,  uneasy  when  confined  from  home, 
She  jumped  the  fence,  at  liberty  to  roam, 
And  several  oxen  following,  stood  around  her. 
"  I  thank  the  Lord,"  said  Pat ; 

"  And,  though,  they're  oxen,  I  will  not  refuse  them ; 
But  see,  my  dear,  they  are  so  very  fat, 

I  cannot  use  them." 
His  wife  exclaims,  "  Pray,  how  then  will  you  work  it  V 

"  I'll  tell  you,  honey  ; 
I'll  drive  them  down  to  Providence  to  market, 
And  get  the  money," 

So,  merrily,  without  delay, 

Along  the  road  he  sped  his  way. 
The  priest  next  morning  oped  his  eyes 

At  early  dawn, 
And  shortly  found,  with  much  surprise, 

His  oxen  gone. 
He  traced  their  steps  along  the  road, 
And  found  the  cow  at  Pat's  abode. 
When  Pat  returned,  our  minister, 

With  visage  long, 
(And  feelings  doubtless  somewhat  sinister,) 

Told  him  'Twas  wrong 
To  drive  his  oxen  off  without  permission  ; 

And  that  unless  he  rendered  satisfaction, 
His  soul  would  be  in  danger  of  perdition, 

For  such  an  action. 
But  Pat  with  confidence  and  reverence  due, 

These  words  retorted : 

"  Sir,  you  asserted 
That  they  who  gave  to  priests  would  be  rewarded, 

And  go  to  heaven. 


140  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Your  sermon,  sir,  was  doubtless  very  true ; 
And  now,  sir,  if  your  text  lias  been  regarded, 

And  those  fine  oxen  God  to  me  has  given, 
What's  that  to  you  ?" 
The  priest  denied  that  this  was  what  he  meant 

The  last  Lord's  day  ; 
Declaring  that  the  oxen  were  not  sent, 

But  ran  away. 
"  To  come  to  case  in  hand,  Pat,  you  must  settle, 
And  pay  me  well  for  driving  off  my  cattle. 
But,  seeing  lawsuits  are  a  great  vexation, 
We'll  settle  it  by  friendly  arbitration. 
So,  Patrick,  you  may  choose  the  men, 

To  hear  the  question  and  decide  it ; 
Whate'er  be  their  decision  then, 

You  must  abide  it." 
"  I  thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pat,  "  and  since  'tis  fair, 
That  honest  men  should  judge  a  case  so  rare ; 
And  since  you  do  not  wish  to  make  a  bustle,  sir, 

About  the  place, 
I  think  that  I  will  choose  the  twelve  apostles,  sir, 

To  judge  the  case." 
"  The  twelve  apostles  ! — Patrick  ! — they 
Can  never  hear  us  till  the  judgment  day  !" 

"  Why  that,"  said  Pat, 
"  Is  just  the  very  time  and  place  I  pitched  upon. 

They'll  then  determine 
Exactly  what  you  meant  and  what  you  preached  upon 

In  your  last  sermon." 

Oxford,  N.  Y.,  May,  1826. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  141 


AN  ENIGMA. 

"  They  bid  me  seek  in  other  scenes 
The  charm  that  others  see." 

Old  Soxg. 

There's  a  word  of  five  letters,  oft  used  to  express 

The  pleasure  which  mortals  combine 
In  a  flatterer's  tongue,  in  a  lover's  caress, 
In  a  wager  at  cards,  in  a  hazard  at  chess, 

Or  a  glass  overflowing  with  wine. 

Omit  its  initial,  it  then  is  allied 

To  injustice,  oppression,  and  care  ; 
Drop  one  letter  more,  and  it  hangs  by  your  side, 
As  true  as  a  servant,  as  dear  as  a  bride  ; 

Wheresoever  you  go,  it  is  there. 

Transpose  its  three  last  and  it  glitters  above, 

Or  quietly  grazes  the  heath ; 
Transpose  it  throughout,  it  enlivens  the  grove, 
Or  in  battle's  warm  strife  it  commands  you  to  move 

'Mid  carnage,  destruction  and  death. 

Take  three  of  its  letters,  and  such  is  its  fame, 

A  Turk  will  eschew  it  as  evil ; 
Transpose  its  first  four  and  it  then  will  proclaim 
The  high  vault  of  heaven,  and  a  part  of  the  name 

Which  Milton  bestowed  on  the  Devil. 

Oxford,  X.  Y.,  May,  1826. 


142  MISCELLANEOUS   POEMS. 


ODE  FOE  THE  NATIONAL  JUBILEE. 

"  Then  shalt  thou  cause  the  trumpet  of  the  jubilee  to  sound 
.  .  .  and  ye  shall  hallow  the  fiftieth  year,  and  proclaim  lib- 
erty throughout  all  the  land,  unto  all  the  inhabitants  thereof:  it 
shall  be  a  jubilee  unto  you." — Leviticus  xxv.  9,  10. 

Hail  to  the  morn,  when  a  nation  arising, 

Sprang  to  existence,  unaided,  alone ; 
When  Liberty's  champions,  thraldom  despising, 

Burst  from  the  bonds  which  around  them  were  thrown ! 

Swift  let  the  cannon's  roar 

Spread  to  our  farthest  shore, 
Loud  sound  the  trump  to  the  ends  of  the  earth ! 

High  o'er  oppression's  grave, 

Proud  let  our  banners  wave, 
Welcome  this  jubilee  day  of  our  birth ! 

Sad  was  the  time  when  our  sky  was  o'erclouded ; 

Liberty,  weeping,  her  wrongs  did  deplore ; 
When  tyrants  prevailed  and  our  country  was  crowded 
With  lawless  invaders  polluting  our  shore. 

Then  first  our  sires  arose, 

Firmly  attacked  their  foes, 
Freedom  or  death  did  our  sages  declare ; 

Fleet  was  the  warrior's  dart, 

Brave  was  the  hero's  heart, 
Valiant  the  hosts  which  advanced  to  the  war. 

Dark  was  the  hour  when,  our  forces  surrounding, 
Britain's  proud  foemen  exultingly  ciime, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  143 

When  the  fierce  savage,  the  war-whoop  resounding, 
Mothers  and  orphans  consigned  to  the  flame. 

Swift  burst  the  battle's  storm, 

Dire  was  its  awful  form, 
Far  did  the  echo  extend  o'er  the  plain : 

Loud  was  the  dying  groan, 

Sad  rose  the  widow's  moan, 
Crimson  with  gore  was  the  field  of  the  slain. 

"  Charge  for  our  country  and  nobly  defend  her !" 
Rang  through  our  forces  by  land  and  by  sea, — 
Soon  was  the  foeman  compelled  to  surrender, 
And  warriors  and  sages  were  rescued  and  free. 

Praised  be  the  bravery 

That  saved  us  from  slavery, 
Fame  to  our  chiefs  till  the  last  sun  is  set ! 

Stark,  Putnam,  Gates  and  Greene. 

Wayne,  Sumpter,  Sullivan, 
Warren,  Montgomery,  and  brave  Lafayette ! 

Wide  as  the  world  be  our  Washington's  glory, 

Fadeless  his  wisdom  and  virtue  will  shine ; 
When  princes  and  thrones  shall  remain  but  in  story, 
The  patriot's  heart  shall  be  Washington's  shrine. 

First  on  the  field  of  blood, 

Firm  as  a  rock  he  stood, 
Leading  his  host  like  the  pillar  of  flame ; 

Pure  was  his  noble  breast, 

Peace  was  his  constant  guest. 
Bright  and  immortal  be  Washington's  name. 

''  Praise  to  Jehovah  !"  his  mandate  is  spoken  ; 
Liberty's  banners  his  power  has  unfurled! 


144  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

"  He  the  strong  fetters  of  slavery  has  broken, 
And  freedom  and  science  illumine  the  world. 

Humbly  before  him  fall, 

Own  him  the  Lord  of  all ; 
He  o'er  the  universe  ruleth  alone : 

Loud  let  your  voices  raise 

Anthems  of  joyful  praise; 
Glory  to  God,  who  our  foes  hath  o'erthrown ! 

Hamilton,  K  Y.,  July  4,  1826. 


THE  DISSIPATED  COLLEGIAK 

"  Our  fellow-men,  how  shockingly  they  treat  us  ! 
All  are  tormentors,  every  mother's  son : 
When  boys  at  school,  our  masters  pinch  and  beat  us, 

And  thus  it  is,  until  life's  race  is  run. 
The  preachers  scold  us,  and  the  lawyers  cheat  us ; 

The  doctors  pull  our  teeth  out  one  by  one, 
Till  we,  at  last  worn  out,  from  life  withdraw ; 
Our  heirs  then  bury  us,  and  go  to  law." 

Cousin  Lucy. 

'Tis  said  there  was  a  certain  wight, 

Whose  mother-wit  was  very  bright, 

An  arrant  rogue,  and  even  bolder 

Than  many  rogues  a  great  deal  older ; 

An  aged  father's  only  child, 

Who  laughed  at  all  his  actions  wild, 

And  wished  to  have  him  famed  for  knowledge. 

And  therefore  brought  him  up  for  college. 

This  wight  of  ours  disdained  to  study, 

And  hated  books  in  soul  and  body ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  145 

His  lessons,  therefore,  were  neglected, 

Though  he  as  often  was  corrected ; 

But  when  there  was  a  chance  to  play, 

He  always  chose  to  run  away. 

Yet,  had  he  given  due  attention, 

So  powerful  was  his  comprehension, 

He  might  have  been  the  first  of  all 

In  science,  as  in  playing  ball ; 

He  might  have  done  as  great  exploits 

In  study,  as  in  pitching  quoits ; 

But  not  an  idler  boy  than  he 

Was  found  in  the  academy. 

His  anxious  father  oft  advised  him, 

And  his  preceptor  oft  chastised  him ; 

Yet  would  he  seize  each  opportunity 

To  cut  his  capers  with  impunity. 

At  length  the  appointed  time  drew  near 

When  he  at  college  must  appear. 

With  very  little  preparation, 

He  underwent  examination ; 

And  though  it  seemed  that  more  than  once 

They  might  have  set  him  down  a  dunce, 

Yet,  hoping  that  his  tricks  would  quit  him, 

The  Faculty  thought  best  to  admit  him. 

But  even  there  his  books  were  slighted, 

And  he  in  mischief  still  delighted. 

'Twould  waste  more  time  than  I  can  spare 

To  tell  of  half  his  frolics  there  ; 

But,  since  'tis  fit  to  give  a  sample, 

I  mention  this  for  an  example. 

One  summer  evening,  when  the  moon 
Among  the  clouds  in  splendor  shone, 
13 


146  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

A  gentleman,  more  kind  than  prudent, 

Had  called  to  see  a  certain  student, 

And  tied  his  horse  beneath  a  shade, 

Until  his  visit  should  be  made. 

At  length,  returning  to  the  spot, 

He  sought  his  horse,  but  found  him  not ; 

His  milk-white  steed,  through  some  disaster, 

Had  gone  away,  and  left  his  master. 

He  met  a  man  upon  the  green, 

And  asked  if  he  the  horse  had  seen. 

"  I  saw,"  said  he,  "  some  time  ago, 

About  a  half  a  mile  below, 

A  gentleman  ride  by  with  speed, 

Upon  a  handsome  milk-white  steed." 

A  dozen  men  now  volunteered, 

A  dozen  horses  were  prepared, 

And  soon  they  galloped  out  of  sight, 

To  catch  the  thief  and  stop  his  flight. 

At  length  they  saw  the  milk-white  horse, 

Which  still  went  on  with  rapid  course; 

And  clouds  obscured  the  moon  and  sky, 

But  still  the  trampling  sounded  nigh, 

Until  the  thief  had  turned  aside, 

Within  the  gloomy  woods  to  hide. 

They  darted  on,  they  gathered  round  him, 

And  in  the  forest  shortly  found  him. 

"  You  rascal,"  said  the  first,  advancing, 

"  Is  this  your  horse  that  you  were  prancing  ? 

Come  back  !  the  jail  shall  be  your  home 

Till  the  state's  prison  is  your  doom ; 

The  judge  will  soon  pronounce  your  sentence, 

And  leave  you  leisure  lor  repentance*" 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  147 

The  thief,  confounded,  never  stirred 
Nor  deigned  to  answer  them  a  word  ; 
Till  suddenly  the  moon  shone  bright, 
And  placed  the  rogue  in  open  light. 
But  such  a  thief  as  this,  I  ween, 
No  mortal  since  has  ever  seen. 
For,  with  astonishment,  they  saw 
A  handsome  scarecrow  made  of  straw, 
All  dressed  in  black,  and  set  astraddle, 
And  firmly  fastened  to  the  saddle. 
It  seems  this  roguish  wight  of  ours 
Had  thus  exerted  all  his  pow'rs, 
Had  placed  the  scarecrow  on  the  steed, 
And  sent  him  off  with  wondrous  speed, 
To  crack  a  joke  and  gain  renown, 
And  raise  the  laughter  of  the  town. 
But  time  on  rapid  pinions  glides, 
Nor  waits  for  scholars,  winds  or  tides. 
And  now  the  fourth  commencement  came, 
Since  he  at  college  gave  his  name, 
When  each  received  the  "  gradum  aureum, 
Omnium  artium  Baccalaureum." 
Our  wight,  of  course,  took  his  degree, 
As  Mr.  Reynard  Rogue,  A.  B. 
And  now  inspired  with  wild  ambition, 
Our  college  wit  turned  politician  ; 
Was  entertained  with  welcome  hearty, 
And  joined,  of  course,  the  strongest  party. 
He  oft  engaged  in  warm  debate 
To  recommend  his  candidate  ; 
Declaimed,  in  many  a  florid  speech, 
On  topics  far  beyond  his  reach  ; 


148  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Or  held  his  neighbor  by  the  coat, 
To  plead  his  cause  or  gain  his  vote. 
The  election  came,  his  side  succeeded ; 
His  service  was  no  longer  needed. 
No  loaves  or  fishes  could  he  gain, 
And  all  his  labors  were  in  vain. 
But  still  he  tried  his  best  endeavors, 
To  merit  fortune's  golden  favors. 
The  Lotteries  now  engaged  his  dreams ; 
He  purchased  tickets  in  the  schemes, 
And  tried  the  various  combinations, 
Arranged  from  modern  calculations  ; 
But  notwithstanding  all  his  pranks, 
His  tickets  only  brought  him  blanks. 
At  last,  as  more  substantial  sporting, 
He  thought  to  try  his  luck  in  courting. 
He  tied  his  newr  cravat  with  care, 
Perfumed  his  dress,  and  combed  his  hair ; 
He  learned  to  walk  with  due  uprightness, 
To  dance  a  figure  with  politeness ; 
To  enter  drawing-rooms  with  grace, 
To  screw  the  dimples  on  his  face ; 
To  make  his  bow,  and  then  sit  down, 
As  well  as  any  beau  in  town. 
Accomplished  thus,  he  tried  his  arts, 
To  captivate  the  ladies'  hearts. 
But  though  he  sought  the  bloom  of  health 
His  chief  inquiry  was  for  wealth : 
On  this  he  opened  all  his  battery, 
With  stores  of  wit  and  stores  of  flattery. 
Yet  every  lady  he  selected 
Refused  his  hand,  his  love  rejected, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  149 

And  he  was  doomed  to  pass  his  life, 
Without  the  blessing  of  a  wife. 

Thus  driven  on  by  desperation, 
At  length  he  plunged  in  dissipation ; 
With  wine  and  gaming  spent  his  hours, 
Degrading,  wasting  all  his  powers, 
Till  cash  was  spent  and  health  was  gone, 
And  even  death  seemed  hastening  on. 
Hope  had  departed,  joy  had  fled, 
And  sorrow  hovered  o'er. his  bed  ; 
When  sleep  and  care  his  eyes  oppressed, 
And  youthful  visions  warmed  his  breast. 
He  thought  the  sun  was  beaming  o'er  him, 
He  saw  his  early  home  before  him :' 
The  well  known  pine,  beneath  whose  shade 
He  oft  had  in  his  childhood  played ; 
The  gentle  stream  which  glided  by, 
And  all  the  landscape  caught  his  eye. 
He  saw  his  father  bent  with  years, 
His  furrowed  cheek  suffused  with  tears, 
Lamenting  oft,  in  accents  wild, 
His  prodigal  but  darling  child ; 
And  oft  his  weeping  mother  mourned 
"  Oh  why  has  not  my  son  returned !" 
The  dream  was  o'er,  the  morn  had  come, 
And  soon  the  wanderer  sought  his  home. 
With  weary  steps,  o'er  hill  and  dale, 
He  safely  reached  his  native  vale ; 
His  father's  arms,  his  mother's  kiss, 
Soon  realized  his  fancied  bliss ; 
And  well-known  voices  soothed  his  mind, 
Of  friends  he  long  had  left  behind. 
13* 


150  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Now  free  from  heart-corroding  care, 
He  breathes  with  joy  the  balmy  air ; 
He  wanders  through  his  native  groves, 
And  peace  returns,  and  health  improves : 
And  labor  brings  him  sweet  repose, 
Which  wild  ambition  never  knows ; 
And  all  his  sorrows  fade  away, 
Like  shadows  at  the  dawn  of  day. 
At  length,  more  wise  and  modest  grown, 
The  prodigal  is  brought  to  own, 
That  prudence  is  the  road  to  wealth, 
And  industry  the  friend  of  health  ; 
That  study  is  the  way  to  knowledge, 
At  home,  or  in  the  walls  of  college; 
That  virtue  is  the  purest  pleasure, 
And  calm  content  the  greatest  treasure  ; 
That  splendid  wit  is  all  a  fallacy, 
And  honesty  the  safest  policy. 

Hamilton,  K  Y.,  July,  1856. 


THE  PROGRESS   OF  LIBERTY. 

"  In  a  chariot  of  light,  from  the  regions  of  day, 
The  Goddess  of  Liberty  came  ; 
Ten  thousand  celestials  illumined  her  way, 
And  order  conducted  the  Dame." 

Masonic  Minstrel. 

Long  had  the  East,  in  weary  slumber  bound, 
Reclined  in  mental  solitude  profound, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  151 

When  ignorance  her  boundless  empire  spread, 
And  dire  oppression  filled  mankind  with  dread, 
While  papal  mandates  trampled  on  the  law, 
And  nations  bowed  with  unresisting  awe. 
The  lamp  of  science  faded  in  the  gloom, 
And  all  was  dark  and  dreary  as  the  tomb, — 
Save  when  the  bloody  steel  of  war  shone  bright, 
Like  meteors  glittering  in  the  depths  of  night. 
But  a  glorious  morning  began  to  appear, 
When  the  day  star,  adorning  the  heavens,  drew  near ; 
When  the  press  and  the  pen  their  importance  displayed, 
And  knowledge  and  truth  were  diffused  by  their  aid ; 
When  the  Bible  no  longer  from  men  was  concealed, 
And  spotless  Religion  its  beauty  revealed ; 
When  Newton  unfolded  the  wonders  of  heaven, 
And  the  course  of  the  stars  in  their  wide  circle  driven, 
When  the  magnet  was  found  to  be  true  to  the  pole, 
Though  the  tempest  should  rage  and  the  mad  billows  roll ; 
When  daring  Columbus  his  genius  had  shown, 
And  discovered  a  world  and  a  people  unknown. 
Then,  bright  as  the  ray  which  illumines  the  earth, 
When  the  author  of  day  in  his  glory  shines  forth, 
From  the  regions  of  bliss,  in  a  chariot  of  light, 
Did  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  burst  on  the  sight. 
Arrayed  in  her  robes  of  perpetual  youth, 
Attended  by  wisdom,  and  justice,  and  truth, 
Protected  by  virtue  and  guided  by  love, 
She  had  left  her  bright  home  in  the  mansions  above, 
And  descended  to  earth,  a  new  dwelling  to  find, 
With  the  wisest,  the  bravest,  and  best  of  mankind. 
At  first  she  paused  on  Afric's  burning  shore, 
It  various  climes  and  people  to  explore.  - 


152  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Here  rolled  the  Nile  through  Egypt's  fertile  clime, 
Here  towered  the  pond'rous  pyramids  sublime; 
There  lofty  Atlas  rose  above  the  plain, 
And  drear  Sahara  stretched  his  wide  domain ; 
But  stained  with  sensuality  and  lust, 
The  human  mind  lay  prostrate  in  the  dust. 
The  lions  roared  on  Ethiopia's  waste, 
And  tigers'  yells  were  mingled  with  the  blast ; 
While  the  dark  heathen,  fleeing  from  distress, 
Fled  not  to  knowledge  or  to  happiness. 
There  slave-ships  ploughed  the  Gambia's  golden  flood, 
Whose  dismal  dungeons  smoked  with  human  blood, 
While  frantic  negroes,  prostrate  on  the  strand, 
Now  bade  farewell  to  Guinea's  wretched  land ; 
Then,  bound  in  chains,  were  wafted  o'er  the  wave, 
Or  closed  their  suff 'rings  in  a  watery  grave. 
The  Goddess,  weeping,  saw  her  labor  lost, 
Then  winged  her  way  to  Asia's  verdant  coast. 
She  viewed  the  vast  variety  of  man, 
The  dark  Malay,  the  savage  Tartar  clan, 
In  northern  climes,  Siberia's  frozen  isles, 
Or  southern  shores  where  fragrant  India  smiles ; 
Where  sacred  Ganges  rolls  his  purple  tide, 
Or  deep  Hoangho's  winding  waters  glide ; 
Where  Himmaleh  is  crowned  with  endless  snow, 
Or  bright  Arabia's  spicy  breezes  blow. 
Here  luxury  had  wove  her  silken  bands, 
And  sordid  nations  followed  her  commands ; 
A  race  effeminate,  a  sensual  crowd, 
To  idol  gods  in  adoration  bowed ; 
And  bloody  Juggernaut  was  rolled  along, 
While  death  and  carnage  hovered  o'er  the  throng. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  153 

The  Goddess  paused,  oppressed  with  growing  cares, 
Then  turned  away  her  eyes  suffused  with  tears ; 
Mourned  for  a  race  degraded  by  their  crimes, 
Then  swiftly  soared  to  Europe's  brighter  climes. 
In  classic  lands  she  sought  to  find  a  home, 
And  fondly  turned  to  visit  Greece  and  Rome. 
But  Greece  no  longer  fed  the  sacred  fires 
Which  beamed  around  her  patriotic  sires ; 
No  Homer's  harp  in  lofty  numbers  rung, 
The  fame  of  no  Achilles  could  be  sung ; 
Her  marble  temples  crumbled  on  the  plain, 
And  Greece  submitted  to  the  Turkish  chain. 
Imperial  Rome,  once  mistress  of  the  East, 
Had  sunk  in  vice,  degraded  and  oppressed ; 
Her  palaces,  with  age  and  moss  grown  gray, 
And  lofty  walls  were  hastening  to  decay. 
Vesuvius,  raging,  poured  his  fiery  streams, 
And  angry  Etna  belched  his  liquid  flames, 
While  father  Tiber  rolled  his  yellow  waves, 
Mournful  and  silent  in  a  land  of  slaves. 

The  Goddess,  turning,  bade  those  realms  adieu ; 
Then  o'er  the  Alps  on  rapid  pinions  flew, 
Explored  the  wilds  of  Europe's  farthest  space, 
To  seek  and  bless  a  more  congenial  race. 
Here  Spain  exulted  in  her  balmy  bowers, 
Where  happy  lovers  passed  their  blissful  hours ; 
Here  France,  luxuriant,  tilled  the  fruitful  vine ; 
And  heedless  life  was  drowned  with  mirth  and  wine. 
There,  in  a  narrow  hut,  oppressed  and  poor, 
Joyless  and  wretched,  dwelt  the  German  boor  ! 
While  princely  halls,  magnificent  and  wide, 
Contrasted  poverty  with  wealth  and  pride. 


154  MISCELLANEOUS   POEMS. 

There  Russian  peasants,  doomed  to  bootless  toil, 
Were  bought  and  sold  together  with  the  soil ; 
And  Swedish  hordes  were  sunk  in  dreamless  sleep, 
Where  stormy  Baltic  rolled  his  mighty  deep. 
Here  Britain's  fairer  isle  in  prospect  lay, 
Queen  of  the  earth,  and  mistress  of  the  sea. 
.  The  silver  Thames,  upon  his  bosom,  bore 
A  thousand  ships  from  Europe's  farthest  shore, 
And  gentle  Avon  slowly  moved  along, 
Where  sages  listened  to  the  poet's  song. 
Here  infant  knowledge,  driven  by  savage  foes, 
From  tedious  flight  had  dared  to  seek  repose. 
But  genius  sung,  and  science  strove  in  vain, 
While  Europe  bowed  beneath  the  tyrant's  chain : 
Her  haughty  nobles  seized  the  reigns  of  might, 
And  wealth  and  grandeur  triumphed  over  right ; 
While  lawless  kings  were  sceptred  on  their  thrones, 
And  tears  were  mingled  with  the  people's  groans. 
The  heavenly  stranger,  overwhelmed  with  care, 
Now  paused  awhile,  convulsed  in  mute  despair, 
Then  spread  her  glitt'ring  wings,  prepared  to  fly, 
And  seek  her  native  mansions  in  the  sky. 
She  had  turned  with  regret  to  bid  mortals  adieu, 
When  the  bark  of  the  Pilgrims  appeared  in  her  view  : 
Their  white  canvas  courted  the  prosperous  gale, 
From  the  land  of  oppression  and  discord  to  sail ; 
As  they  sought  a  retreat  in  a  region  afar, 
Beneath  the  pale  beams  of  Hesperia's  star. 
Fair  Liberty,  smiling,  advanced  by  their  side, 
And  the  Pilgrims  received  her,  their  guardian  and  guide ; 
And  the  fleet  spurned  the  sea  as  it  sailed  o'er  the  wave, 
To  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  155 

Till  they  reached  the  blue  shore  of  Atlantic's  vast  flood, 
Where  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  chose  her  abode. 
Now  the  blows  of  the  axe  in  the  wild  wood  resound, 
And  the  oak  of  the  forest  is  felled  to  the  ground  : 
The  meadows  enrobed  in  rich  verdure  appear, 
Where  the  shaft  of  the  savage  pursued  the  wild  deer ; 
The  fields  lately  barren  are  covered  with  grain, 
And  villages  rise  in  the  midst  of  the  plain. 

But  hark  !  the  loud  yell  sounds  to  war's  dread  alarms, 
And  the  heroes  of  liberty  fly  to  their  arms. 
Now  the  savages  rush  from  the  depth  of  the  wood, 
Imbued  with  fresh  slaughter,  and  reeking  in  blood ; — 
In  night's  awful  gloom  the  red  firebrands  they  hurl, 
While  the  volumes  of  smoke  in  the  dark  ether  curl, 
And  the  victims,  o'erwhelmed  in  the  ruins  expire, 
Or  escape  from  the  flames  by  the  light  of  the  fire. 
Anon  see  the  champions  of  freedom  advance, 
With  tears  on  their  cheeks  and  revenge  in  their  glance. 
As  the  rock  meets  the  torrents  around  it  that  flow, 
Unmoved  they  sustain  the  attack  of  the  foe  ; 
As  the  torrents,  impetuous,  break  over  their  banks, 
They  crush  and  discomfit  the  enemy's  ranks  ; 
Till  weary  and  weak,  their  hostilities  cease, 
And  they  bury  the  axe  'neath  the  broad  tree  of  peace. 
Now  Britain,  insatiate,  from  freemen  demands 
The  blood  of  their  bosoms,  the  work  of  their  hands  ; 
And  baffled  in  plunder,  her  forces  prepare 
To  crush  the  fair  realm  by  the  Hydra  of  war. 
But  armies  and  navies  advance  o'er  the  main, 
And  Britain's  proud  Lion  growls  fiercely  in  vain ; 
For  the  strong  arm  of  truth  is  the  patriot's  guard, 
And  the  sword  of  the  just,  is  the  sword  of  the  Lord. 


156  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Attended  by  wisdom,  and  virtue,  and  peace, 
Columbia's  wide  regions  in  glory  increase ; 
The  spirit  of  knowledge  revisits  the  West, 
By  slumber  and  darkness  no  longer  oppressed ; 
And  the  bright  sun  of  science  diffuses  its  rays, 
Till  Europe  receives  a  new  light  from  the  blaze. 
On  swift  waving  pinions  fair  Liberty  rides, 
To  extend  her  dominions  o'er  Amazon's  tides  ; 
And  the  heights  of  the  Andes  acknowledge  her  power, 
For  the  climes  of  the  south  are  in    slavery  no  more. 

From  the  slumber  of  ages  the  Grecians  have  sprung, 
And  heroes  and  sages  the  clangor  have  rung ; 
To  freedom  and  light  they  are  seeking  the  way, 
And  the  Ottoman  throne  hastens  on  to  decay. 
Saw  ye  the  lightning  flash  dart  from  the  sky  ? 
Heard  ye  the  thunder  crash  roaring  on  high  ?* 
'Tis  the  vengeance  of  heaven  on  the  head  of  the  foe, 
And  the  impious  crescent  lies  harmless  and  low. 
Fast  break  the  clouds  away,  fading  in  air, 
Bright  shines  the  lord  of  day,  splendid  and  fair  ; 
And  the  morning  breaks  forth,  when  the  multitude  see 
"  The  land  of  the  bard  and  the  warrior  free  !" 
Now  swift  as  the  march  of  mind  light  shall  extend, 
Knowledge  and  justice  in  harmony  blend, 
Till  science  illumes  the  terrestrial  ball, 
And  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  rules  over  all, 

Hamilton,  N.  Y.,  August,  1826. 


*  These  lines  were  written  shortly  after  the  fall  of  Missolonghi   was  an- 
nounced. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  157 


SOXG  OF  FRIEXDSHIP. 


1  The  world  is  bright  before  thee, 
Its  summer  flowers  are  thine  ; 

Its  calm  blue  sky  is  o'er  thee, 
Thy  bosom  pleasure's  shrine." 


Mat  Heaven's  constant  blessing, 
Preserve  thy  heart  from  woe ; 
And  dearest  friends  caressing, 
Their  kindest  smiles  bestow  ; 

And  brightly  may 

The  passing  day 
Its  pleasures  round  thee  strew, 

And  purest  joy, 

Without  alloy, 
Thy  peaceful  cup  o'erflow  ! 

Thy  beaming  eye  of  beauty 

Be  free  from  sorrow's  tear ; 
The  radiant  path  of  duty 

Be  still  thy  calm  career ; 
A  light  divine 
Around  thee  shine, 

Thy  sky  be  ever  clear  ; 
And  seen  afar, 
Hope's  vesper  star 

Thy  blissful  bosom  cheer ! 

But  when  on  wings  of  fleetness, 
Thy  years  have  glided  by ; 


14 


158  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

When  life  has  lost  its  sweetness, 
And  age  has  dimmed  thine  eye ; 

Released  from  clay, 

Serenely  may 
Thy  gentle  spirit  fly, 

To  welcome  rest, 

Among  the  blest, 
In  realms  beyond  the  sky  ! 

Hamilton,  K  Y.,  August,  1826. 


ACADEMIC  ADDKESS, 

ON    TAKING    LEAVE    OF    HAMILTON    ACADEMY. 

"  Oh  !  not  as  autumn  birds  forsake  their  nest, 

But  to  return  when  summer  decks  the  plain ; 

Not  as  the  sun  that  slumbers  in  the  west, 

To  wake  to-morrow  in  the  east  again ; 

Not  as  the  tone  of  harps,  by  winds  carest, 

Which,  lost  awhile,  swells  forth  in  sweeter  6tfain ; 
But  like  a  spirit,  from  its  home  of  woe, 
That  parts,  unknowing  whither, — thus  ye  go  !" 

Harp  of  tub  Isle. 

The  day  declines  ;  the  hour  is  near, 
Which  calls  affection's  warmest  tear ; 
When  he  who  speaks  must  bid  adieu 
To  hands  so  warm,  and  hearts  so  true ; 
When  each  dear  friend  shall  leave  this  dome, 
To  greet  once  more  a  distant  home  ; 
When  we,  who  loved  so  much,  must  sever, 
Perhaps  to  meet  no  more  forever ! 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  159 


Comrades  !  another  morn  will  rise^ 

Again  the  sun  will  light  the  skies ; 

Another  moon  shall  wax  and  wane, 

Young  flowers  once  more  will  grace  the  plain ; 

New  seasons  still  coming  rolling  on  ; 

But  where !  oh,  where  shall  we  be  gone  ! 

Though  fancy's  scenes  with  joy  be  crowned, 

And  hope's  bright  garlands  bloom  around ; 

Yet  varied  as  the  raging  sea 

Kemains  the  tide  of  destiny. 

Oh  !  some  will  smile  in  pleasure's  bower, 

Perhaps  with  honor,  wealth,  and  power ; 

And  some  will  trim  the  midnight  lamp, 

And  some  will  seek  the  warrior's  camp ; 

And  some  to  distant  lands  may  hie, 

Away  to  live,  unknown  to  die ; 

And  some  true  hearts  perchance  will  sleep 

Beneath  the  bosom  of  the  deep ! 

Yet  long  shall  faithful  memory  tell 

How  friends  have  sighed  to  bid  farewell ; 

And  oft  affection  shall  remind  us 

Of  scenes  and  pleasures  left  behind  us  ; — 

Of  sunny  prospects,  cooling  shades, 

And  moonlight  walks  in  verdant  glades, 

Of  study's  ardent  meditation, 

And  summer-evening's  recreation  ; — 

Of  former  days  of  joy  and  gladness, 

And  parting  hours  of  grief  and  sadness, 

For  ours  has  been  the  early  lesson, 
To  expand  the  mind  and  form  the  reason ; 
To  move  the  pen  with  ease  and  grace, 
The  rules  of  language  to  retrace ; 


160  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


The  depth  of  numbers  to  explore, 

And  comprehend  their  boundless  power, 

Where  figures,  variously  designed, 

And  sy mbols  aid  the  wearied  mind ; 

The  earth's  vast  surface  to  compare, 

By  map  and  chart,  or  rolling  sphere ; 

To  learn  the  state  of  mighty  nations, 

With  all  their  various  relations  ; 

Their  arts  and  laws  to  ascertain, 

Their  numerous  customs  to  explain : 

To  know,  from  history's  ponderous  pages, 

The  glorious  deeds  of  former  ages ; 

What  famous  men  have  passed  away, 

Or  empires  fallen  to  decay ; 

To  trace  the  planets  as  they  fly, 

Along  the  blue  ethereal  sky  ; 

To  find  the  cause  of  nature's  changes, 

As  through  the  elements  she  ranges ; 

Why  heavy  bodies  seek  the  ground, 

Or  lightning  spreads  destruction  round ; 

To  speak  with  force  and  eloquence. 

And  write  with  purity  and  sense, 

In  ancient  authors  to  explore 

The  mysteries  of  classic  lore  ; 

In  modern  tongues  our  thoughts  to  frame, 

And  spread  afar  our  country's  fame; 

'Twas  ours  to  climb  truth's  lofty  mountain, 

And  drink  at  learning's  deepest  fountain. 

But  "  know  yourselves,"  your  nature  scan, 
And  study  well  the  mind  of  man. 
To  be  respected,  good  and  wise 
Beyond  the  power  of  learning  lies ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  161 

Virtue  alone  can  make  us  great. 

Iu  this  and  in  a  future  state  : 

On  that  depends  our  solid  worth, 

Whate'er  our  fortune,  rank  or  birth; 

A  constant  guide,  a  sure  defence, 

Its  pleasure  is  its  recompense. 

Then  may  our  minds,  in  early  youth, 

Imbibe  the  principles  of  truth  ; 

May  virtue's  prceepts  guide  our  ways 

Through  life's  untrodden,  thorny  maze ; 

So  shall  we  walk  the  path  of  peace ; 

So  shall  prosperity  increase  ; 

Thus  shall  our  days  be  happy  here, 

And  pass  away  without  a  tear ! 

Though  rude  the  winds  of  winter  blow. 
On  endless  heaps  of  drifted  snow  ; 
Spring  quick  returns,  with  gentle  showers, 
And  vernal  landscapes  decked  with  flowers, 
Till  cancer's  sun  pours  down  his  rays. 
And  summer  burns  beneath  his  blaze. 
Then  Ceres  leads  her  welcome  train, 
And  waves  the  fields  of  golden  grain, 
Till  winter  comes,  with  aspect  drear, 
And  ends  the  swift  revolving  year. 
Such  is  the  fleeting  life  of  man ; 
His  moments  few.  his  days  a  span. 
S(  ion  as  the  sun  of  knowledge  shines, 
His  verdant  spring  of  life  declines  ; 
And  should  he  pass  a  summer  hour, 
Of  pleasure,  honor,  wealth  i  r  power, 
That  summer  soon  will  pass  away. 
The  fruits  of  autumn  soon  decay, 

14* 


1G2  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

And  wintry  age,  with  gasping  breath, 
Will  close  the  solemn  scene  in  death ! 
Like  bubbles  on  the  ocean's  shore, 
Which  rise,  and  straight  are  seen  no  more ; 
Or  like  the  track  upon  the  sand, 
When  whirlwinds  blow  on  Guinea's  strand ; 
His  name  is  blotted  from  the  earth, 
Nor  fame  prevails,  nor  noble  birth ; 
His  spirit  hastens  to  the  bourne, 
From  which  no  traveller  can  return ! 
But  there's  a  blissful  world  above, 
The  mansion  of  a  Saviour's  love, 
Where  care  and  sorrow  ever  cease, 
And  happy  spirits  rest  in  peace. 
And  there's  a  power  that  aids  the  soul 
To  gain  that  high  and  shining  goal ; 
And  there's  a  book  that  points  the  way 
To  that  fair  realm  of  endless  day ; 
Make  this  your  guide,  and  yours  shall  be 
The  pleasures  of  eternity  ! 
Hamilton,  N".  Y.,  Sept,  1826. 


THE   FIRE   AT  SEA. 

Few  scenes  can  be  more  awful  than  such  an  one  as  a  student's 
pen  has  here  attempted  to  portray. 

The  wind  swelled  our  sails,  as  it  swiftly  sped  by, 

And  swept  o'er  the  wide  waters  drear ; 
The  billows  around  tossed  their  white  caps  on  high, 
The  sun  had  descended,  and  dark  was  the  sky, 
Portending  a  storm  to  be  near. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  163 

When,  breaking  the  silence  so  gloomy  and  dread, 

A  gun  loudly  roared  o'er  the  sea : — 
"  A  ship  is  on  lire,"  cried  the  man  at  mast-head  ; 
The  flames  s.ize  the  rigging,  and  rapidly  spread, 

"  A  full  league  away  on  our  lee !" 

All  hands  then  were  summoned,  to  set  every  sail, 

And  onward  we  dashed  o'er  the  wave, 
Unheeding  the  threats  of  the  sky  and  the  gale, 
While  boldly  advancing,  to  come  within  hail, 
The  hands  of  that  vessel  to  save. 

Now  bright  were  the  flashes  of  cinders  which  flew, 

And  glared  on  the  white  foaming  tide ; 
Till  striving  to  meet  us,  the  sad-hearted  crew, 
Informed  by  our  signal,  appeared  in  our  view, 
And  soon  they  were  safe  by  our  side : 

When,  sharp  as  the  thunders  of  midnight  resound, 

And  loud  as  the  hurricane's  roar, 
That  vessel  blew  up,  spread  destruction  around, 
Then  sunk  in  the  ocean,  mid  horrors  profound  ; 

And  all  was  as  dark  as  before. 

Hamilton  College,  Nov..  1826. 


164  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE  EAIKBOTT. 


(X»rPOSED    FOR    A    YOUNG    LADY  S    ALBUM. 

Throned  on  a  dark,  majestic  cloud, 

Far  away, 
Heaven's  radiant  arc,  serenely  bowed, 

Smiling  lay, 
Lit  by  the  splendor  of  the  proud 

Lord  of  day. 

Shortly  the  sun  withdrew  from  sight, 

In  the  west ; 
Soon  sank  the  cloud,  beneath  the  night, 

To  its  rest ; 
Soon  died  the  rainbow's  vivid  light 

On  its  breast. 

Thus,  hope's  resplendent  magic  car 

Fleeted  on, 
Whilst  its  illuminating  star 

Brightly  shone ; — 
Soon  shall  it  vanish,  when  afar 

Thou  art  gone ! 

Hamilton  College,  Dec,  1826. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  165 


NEW  TEAK'S   ODE. 

\TRITTEN    FOR    THE    PHCEXICIAX    SOCIETY    OF    HAMILTON    COLLEGE. 

Hail  to  the  lovers  of  music  and  mystery  ! 

Hail,  fellow-students,  both  sober  and  gay  ! 
Science  and  Politics,  Grammar  and  History, 

Reason  and  Logic  are  crazy  to-day : 
My  rhyme  is  ill-chosen,  my  ink  is  nigh  frozen, 

And  blots  by  the  dozen  around  me  appear ; 
But  still  in  the  issue,  before  they  dismiss  you, 

Permit  me  to  wish  you  a  happy  new  year. 

Now  in  the  time  of  the  festival  holidays, 

Christmas,  Thanksgiving,  and  New  Year's  and  all 
When  Freshmen  and  Seniors  together  keep  jolly  days, 

Down  Clinton  Street,  or  up  Hamilton  Hall  ; 
When  books  are  neglected,  and  study  rejected, 

And  pleasure  expected  by  all  ranks  of  men  ; 
In  this  merry  season,  it  cannot  be  treason 

That  rhyme  without  reason  should  govern  the  pen. 

Sing  then  of  peace  and  continued  prosperity, 

Raise  the  glad  anthem  abroad  and  at  home ; 
Trumpet  our  nation's  renown  to  posterity, 

Tell  of  her  glory  in  ages  to  come  : 
Our  internal  ditches,  the  wonder  of  witches, 

Will  add  to  our  riches  and  cherish  our  trade, 
While  steam  and  canal  boats,  large  ships  and  sail-boats, 

And  packets  and  mail-boats  our  commerce  will  aid. 


166 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


Sing  of  our  Congress  and  President's  message, 

Talk  upon  politics  much  as  you  will ; 
May  every  good  law  have  a  speedier  passage, 

And  every  dull  speech-making  member  be  still ; 
May  truth  be  regarded,  and  merit  rewarded, 

And  error  retarded,  while  vices  are  few  ; 
That  every  vile  faction,  or  wicked  transaction, 

May  meet  with  detection  and  punishment  due. 

Sing  of  uncommon  escapes  and  recoveries, 

Steam-boilers  bursting,  or  stages  upset ; 
Sing  of  inventions  and  noted  discoveries, 

Since  the  last  visit  of  good  La  Fayette ; 
Of  Reynolds's  lectures,  and  Mitchell's  conjectures, 

With  spider-web  textures  of  arguments  thin, 
On  Captain  Symmes'  notions  of  internal  oceans, 

And  wonderful  motions  of  regions  within. 

Sing  of  our  maidens,  so  lively  and  pretty, 

With  cheeks  of  the  rose  and  the  lily  combined, 
With  red  lips,  and  bright  eyes,  and  ringlets  so  jetty, 

Adorned  with  all  graces  of  person  and  mind. 
Still  may  they  inherit  the  beauty  and  merit, 

And  well-tempered  spirit,  which  lovers  revere  ; 
And  each  be  surrounded  with  pleasure  unbounded, 

While  joy's  trump  is  sounded,  this  happy  New  Year. 

Hamilton  College,  Jan.  1.,  1827. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  167 


SOUTH  AMEKICA. 


IN    MJ3MORV    OF    THE    BATTLE     OF    AYACUCHO,    WHICH    WAS    FOUGHT    DEC. 
9,  1825,  AND    SECURED    THE    INDEPENDENCE    OF   PERU. 


When  tyranny  and  foreign  foes 
Columbia's  realm  oppressed, 
Enkindled,  then,  by  numerous  woes, 
The  heavenly  flame  of  freedom  rose, 
In  each  Peruvian  breast : 

And  every  patriot  soldier  brave 

To  heaven's  high  court  appealed, 
And  swore  to  live  no  more  a  slave, 
But  rather  seek  a  glorious  grave, 
Upon  the  bloody  field. 

Beneath  the  Andes'  towering  height, 

Of  everlasting  snow, 
They  armed  for  freedom  and  the  right, 
They  met  the  fierce  and  eager  fight, 

And  vanquished  every  foe. 

The  clouds  of  ignorance  have  fled, 

Which  dimmed  those  southern  shores  ; 
The  light  of  truth  is  widely  spread, 
Where  patriots  fought,  and  tyrants  bled, 
And  freedom's  eagle  soars. 

Where  Spain  has  shorn  the  golden  fleece, 
And  war's  red  firebrands  hurled, 


168  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Her  reign  is  o'er,  her  power  must  cease, 
And  nations  greet  immortal  peace, 
Throughout  the  western  world. 

And  soon  shall  freedom  claim  the  day, 

In  earth's  remotest  clime  ; 
And  countless  hosts  shall  own  its  sway, 
While  monarchs  fall,  and  thrones  decay, 
By  heaven's  decree  sublime. 

Hamilton  College,  Jan.,  1827. 


THE  KEQUIEM. 


ON    THE    DEATH    OF    A    CLASSMATE,    CADET   MARKS    J.    B.  WOOD    OF    GEOR- 
GIA, AT    WEST    POINT,  MARCH  19,   1828. 


Why  rolls  the  solemn  muffled  drum, 

And  peal  the  notes  of  woe  ? 
As  on  the  breeze  their  accents  float, 

So  mournfully  and  slow  : 
Why  stoops  yon  spangled  banner 

From  its  glorious  seat  above  1 
And  why  does  yon  procession 

In  funeral  silence  move  1 


From  its  frail  abode  of  sorrow 

Has  a  noble  spirit  fled  ; 
A  young  and  gallant  soldier  sleeps 

Anions  the  silent  dead ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  169 

And  yonder  are  his  weeping  friends, 

The  generous  and  the  brave, 
To  bid  a  long,  a  last  farewell, 

And  lay  him  in  the  grave. 

He  fell ; — not  in  the  battle-field, 

Where  war's  loud  thunders  sound, 
Where  heaps  of  slain  and  wounded  lie 

Along  the  bloody  ground  ; 
But  darker  was  his  hapless  fate, 

By  grim  disease  to  fall, 
Than  have  the  flag  of  triumph 

Overspread  his  funeral  pall. 

He  died  ; — not  in  his  early  home, 

So  dear  to  fancy's  view, 
Where  once  among  the  scenes  of  youth 

His  rapturous  moments  flew : 
No  loving  parent  at  his  side 

Received  his  parting  breath ; 
An  orphan,  in  a  distant  land, 

He  closed  his  eyes  in  death. 

But  bitterly  was  shed  for  him 

Affection's  warmest  tear ; 
And  many  youthful  cheeks  were  wet 

Around  his  lonely  bier  ; 
And  the  hearts  of  his  companions 

Shall  be  his  sacred  urn, 
Till  all  the  friends  who  weep  for  him 

To  dust  again  return. 
15 


170  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

His  mortal  frame  is  mouldering 

Beneath  the  dreary  clod  ; 
His  spirit  has  returned 

To  its  Creator  and  its  God : 
Then  rest  thee,  brother  soldier, 

In  thy  lone  but  peaceful  tomb, 
Till  the  angel's  trump  shall  call  thee, 

In  the  final  day  of  doom  ! 

May'st  thou,  at  that  dread  moment, 

In  immortal  glory  rise, 
Robed  in  the  spotless  uniform 

Of  saints  beyond  the  skies ; 
And  there  may  we  all  meet  thee, 

On  that  celestial  shore, 
Where  sorrow  turns  to  gladness, 

And  where  friends  shall  part  no  more  ! 

West  Point,  N.  Y.,  March,  1828. 


TO  A  GOLDFINCH. 

WHICH,  AFTER  HAVING    ESCAPED    FROM    ITS    CAGE,  RETURNED  TO  ITS  FAIR 
OWNER. 

Bird  of  the  gentle  wing, 

Songster  of  air, 
Home  from  thy  wandering, 

Dost  thou  repair  ? 
Art  thou  deserted,  then, 

Wildered  and  lone  % 
Come  to  my  breast  again, 

Beautiful  one. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  171 

Here  in  the  rosy  beds 

Hover  anew ; 
Eating  the  garden  seeds, 

Sipping  the  dew : 
Then  in  my  bower 

The  fragrance  inhale 
Of  each  lovely  flower 

That  waves  in  the  gale. 

When  the  bright  morning  star, 

Rising  on  high, 
Day's  early  harbinger, 

Shines  in  the  sky, 
Then  shall  thy  numbers, 

So  lively  and  gay, 
Rouse  me  from  slumbers, 

To  welcome  the  day. 

When  the  still  evening  comes, 

Tranquil  and  clear  ; 
When  the  dull  beetle  roams 

Drumming  the  air; 
Then,  on  the  willow-trees 

Shading  the  door, 
Sing  me  thy  melodies 

Over  once  more. 

Thus  shall  the  moments  fly 

Sweetly  along, 
Tuned  to  thy  minstrelsy, 

Cheered  by  thv  song;  • 


172  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

'Till  as  the  light  declines 

Far  in  the  west, 
Thou,  'mid  the  trellised  vines, 

Hush  thee  to  rest. 

West  Point,  N.  Y.,  May,  1828. 


ISTIAGAEA   FALLS. 

"Niagara  rolls  on.     The  faithless  wa7e, 
That  tore  the  Indian  from  his  gentle  cove, 
Is  smooth  and  bright  as  silver.     Nothing  speaks 
Of  last  night's  rain  :  and  now  the  rainbow  smiles, 
And  the  white  gull  flaps  through  its  orange  light ; 
And  the  eternal  roaring  of  the  Falls 
Goes  on  the  same.     Wild  Indian,  farewell ! 
Thou  wert  a  brother,  and  thy  dying  bed 
Was  the  white  lashing  spray  ; — thy  only  knell 
The  rapid's  thunder  ; — and  the  deep,  deep  gulf 
Thy  sunless  sepulchre  !"  J.  R.  Orton. 

The  sun  shone  brightly  o'er  me  as  I  stood 

And  gazed  upon  Niagara's  swelling  flood  ; 

Whose  waters,  springing  from  a  distant  source, 

Through  ages  past  have  sped  their  solemn  course ; 

Then  rushing  downward,  o'er  the  lofty  rock, 

Have  made  earth's  foundations  tremble  with  their 

Till,  flowing  on  majestical  and  free,  [shock  : 

They  joined  afar  the  bosom  of  the  sea. 

Between  rich  plains,  extending  far  around, 

And  gentle  hills  with  verdant  foliage  crowned, 

Whose  sloping  sides  grow  dim  in  distant  blue, 

Niagara  river  steals  upon  the  view. 

Then,  winding  slow,  the  current  glides  along, 

Its  fertile  isles  and  sunny  banks  among, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  173 

Till  soon  it  meets  a  rough  and  rocky  bed, 
And  o'er  the  rapids  furiously  is  sped  ; — 
Sinks  in  the  hollows,  swells  and  sinks  again, 
And  rolls  its  billows  like  the  raging  main : — 
Now  the  huge  breakers  raise  it  to  the  skies, 
Whirlpools  revolve,  and  foaming  mountains  rise. 
New  floods  behind,  the  waves  before  them  urge, 
Approaching  nearer  to  the  giddy  verge ; 
Till  a  fair  isle  the  mighty  current  braves, 
And  with  its  front  divides  the  yielding  waves. 
On  either  side  the  mighty  waters  roll, 
And  ceaseless  hurry  to  the  frightful  goal ; 
Then  from  the  lofty  rocks  with  awful  sound 
Fall  headlong  downward  to  the  vast  profound, — 
Speed  to  the  bottom,  swell  the  deeps  below, — 
Rise  to  the  surface,  boiling  as  they  flow  ; 
In  eddying  circles  vent  their  angry  force ; 
Then  join  the  current  and  pursue  their  course. 
Here  on  the  brow  the  sea-green  flood  rolls  by, 
Reflecting  all  the  brightness  of  the  sky, 
While  piles  of  foam,  the  cataract  beneath, 
Hang  o'er  the  rocks  and  round  the  billows  wreathe. 
There,  as  the  falling  torrent  meets  the  air, 
White  foaming  fleeces  down  the  chasm  appear ; 
And  the  bright  rainbow  through  the  misty  spray, 
Shines  in  the  sun  and  gilds  the  face  of  day. 
And  far  below,  from  adamantine  beds, 
The  rocky  banks  erect  their  hoary  heads  ; — 
While  lofty  trees,  like  dwarfs,  above  them  seen, 
Clothe  the  high  cliffs  with  robes  of  brightest  green ; 
Like  uptorn  Ossa,  from  its  centre  riven, 
When  the  fierce,  giants  fought  the  powers  of  heaven. 
15* 


174  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

I  thought  when  gazing  on  this  glorious  view, 
How  once  the  Indian,  in  his  bark  canoe, 
While  fishing  far  away  upon  the  wave, 
Was  swiftly  buried  in  a  watery  grave. 
As  moored  at  anchor  on  the  treacherous  flood, 
He  throws  his  net  and  line  in  sportive  mood, 
How  great  his  horror  when  at  first  he  hears 
The  cataract  swelling  louder  on  his  ears ; 
When  first,  beneath  the  evening's  dusky  hue, 
The  mighty  rapid  breaks  upon  his  view  ; 
And  unsuspected,  with  the  currents'  glide ; 
His  little  boat  is  carried  by  the  tide, — 
While  the  dim  figures  seen  upon  the  strand 
Move  with  the  stream  which  bears  him  from  the  land ! 
Then  is  his  angle  rod  in  haste  thrown  by, 
While  resolution  flashes  from  his  eye ; 
-  Then  his  strong  arm,  unceasing  bends  the  oar, 
His  course  directing  to  the  nearest  shore ; 
At  every  stroke  he  dashes  through  the  foam, 
And  anxiously  seems  drawing  toward  his  home. 
Row  !  Indian  row !  avoid  the  fearful  steep  ! 
Urge  the  light  bark,  and  o'er  the  waters  sweep  ! 
Too  late,  alas !  the  vortex  is  too  strong ; 
The  rapid  current  hurries  him  along  ! 
In  vain  he  sees  his  cabin  gleam  afar, 
Beneath  the  twinkling  of  the  evening  star ; — 
The  shores  recede,  the  hut  eludes  his  sight, 
Then  fades  in  distance  mid  the  gloom  of  night ! 
And  now  the  breakers  swell  with  lofty  waves, 
And  now  his  bark  their  foaming  summit  braves. 
Despair  now  seizes  on  his  wearied  breast, 
His  oars  neglected  lie  upon  their  rest ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  175 

His  dog,  unheeded,  fawns  upon  his  side, 
Then  leaps  unconscious,  in  the  fatal  tide. 
One  prayer  is  uttered  by  his  wildered  mind ; 
Then  sits  the  Indian,  silent  and  resigned, 
And  in  his  light  canoe  with  patience  waits 
The  speedy  issue  of  his  awful  fates. 
Now  roar  the  waters,  terrible  and  loud, 
As  heaviest  thunder  from  the  blackest  cloud  ; 
And  now  the  chasm  its  awful  depth  reveals, 
And  now  the  bark  upon  its  summit  reels ; 
Then  down  the  vast  abyss  is  viewless  borne, 
To  depths  of  darkness,  never  to  return  ! 
The  setting  sun  beheld  him  far  from  shore ; 
The  rising  morn  shall  ne'er  awake  him  more ; 
But  on  the  beach  his  bones  unburied  lie, 
And  whiten  under  many  a  summer's  sky ; 
And  oft,  the  Indians  say,  his  spirit  roves, 
Where  once  he  hunted  in  his  native  groves  ; 
And  ever  as  he  flies  before  the  wind, 
His  faithful  dog  still  follows  close  behind ; 
And  oft  in  loneliness  the  maiden  weeps, 
Beside  the  water's  where  her  hero  sleeps ; 
And  oft  the  stranger  listens  to  his  tale, 
And  hears  the  warriors  raise  his  funeral  wail ; 
While  fervent  prayers  to  the  Great  Spirit  rise, 
To  bless  their  brother-hunter  in  the  skies. 

We>t  Point,  N.  Y.,  Oct.,  1828. 


176  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE  GAKLAKD. 

WRITTEN    FOR    AND    AT    THE    REQUEST    OF   A    FRIEND,    WHO    WAS  DEEPLY 
ENAMORED    OF    A    FAIR    LADY. 

I've  braided  thee  a  garland  bright, 

Of  lovely  flowers  combined, 
An  emblem  of  thy  gentle  form, 

A  symbol  of  thy  mind  ; 
Oh  !  may  with  each  returning  spring, 

Thy  hopes  as  radiant  be ! 
Then  wear  this  wreath  upon  thy  brow, 

And  still  remember  me. 

I've  plucked  the  mountain  evergreen, 

A  token  of  thy  truth ; 
I've  decked  it  with  the  blooming  rose, 

The  lovely  type  of  youth ; 
I've  sought  the  modest  violet, 

Around  the  verdant  dell ; 
I've  culled  the  lily  of  the  vale, 

Thy  purity  to  tell. 

And  brightly  will  the  garland  twine 

Around  thine  auburn  hair  ; 
Its  roses  with  thy  rosy  cheeks 

Will  beauteously  compare ; 
The  lilies  with  thine  ivory  brow 

As  gracefully  will  vie  ; 
And  dew-drop  gems  will  sparkle  there, 

To  match  thy  beaming  eye. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  177 

Alas  !  that  flowers  so  beautiful 

Must  wither  and  decay  ; 
Alas  !  that  thus  the  fairest  form 

Must  shortly  fade  away  ; 
But  may'st  thou  seek  a  better  part, 

A  brighter  world  on  high, 
And  smile  to  see  in  death's  dark  storm 

The  rainbow  of  the  sky. 

Then  wear  this  garland  on  thy  brow, 

And  think  by  whom  'twas  wove : 
Oh  !  keep  it  as  the  sacred  pledge 

Of  warm,  devoted  love  ! 
And  still  with  each  returning  spring 

I'll  twine  fresh  flowers  for  thee, 
If  thou  wilt  take  this  blooming  wreath, 

And  kindly  smile  to  me ! 

Wei  Point,  N.  Y.,  Oct.,  1828. 


THE  HEEMITS  YESPEE  HYMN. 

"  Twas  then  by  the  cave  of  a  mountain  afar, 
A  hermit  his  song  of  the  night  thus  began  ; 

No  more  with  himself  or  with  Nature  at  war, 
He  thought  as  a  sage,  though  he  felt  as  a  man." 

Beattik. 

A  Hermit  of  the  forest  wild, 

Far  from  the  busy  throng 
His  lonely  moments  thus  beguiled, 

And  sung  his  vesper  song  : 


178  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

"  Eternal  Lord  of  earth  and  sky ! 

Thou  great  unseen,  unknown  ! 
Who  dwell'st  in  sovereign  majesty, 

Omnipotent,  alone  ; — 

"  Thou  art  the  source  of  every  good, 

My  help  in  every  care ; 
Thou  quell'st  the  raging  of  the  flood, 

And  tumult  of  the  air. 

"  The  glittering  stars  their  courses  run, 

By  thy  supreme  decree  ; 
The  evening  moon,  and  morning  sun, 

Receive  their  light  from  thee. 

"  By  thee  the  earth  is  crowned  with  flowers, 

And  yellow  fields  of  grain  ; 
By  thee  the  clouds  send  down  their  showers, 

And  verdure  decks  the  plain. 

"  To  thee  all  creatures  owe  their  birth, 
That  swim,  or  fly,  or  creep ; — 

The  fowl  of  air,  the  beast  of  earth, 
And  monster  of  the  deep. 

"  And  man  is  thine :  his  wondrous  frame 

Was  fashioned  by  thy  hand ; 
The  vital  spark,  from  thee  that  came, 

Departs  at  thy  command. 

"  Oh  !  be  my  guardian  and  guide, 

My  father  and  my  friend, 
Till  whelmed  in  death's  resistless  tide, 
My  pilgrimage  shall  end !" 
West  Point,  N,  Y.,  Oct.,  1828. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  179 


THE   DIALECTIC   SOCIETY. 


WRITTEN  FOR  THE  AMUSEMENT  OF  THE  LITERARY  SOCIETY  BEARING  THIS 
NAME,  AT  THE  U.  S.  MILITARY  ACADEMY,  IN  IMITATION  OF  CANNING'S 
"  UNIVERSITY  OF  GOTTINGEN." 


Mr.  President, 

Most  heartily  I  wish  to  see 

The  onward  path  of  knowledge, 
In  this  renowned  Academy, 

As  well  as  every  College ; 
And  so,  I  thought  that  I  would  try, 

By  way  of  a  variety, 
To  write  a  poem  for  the  Di — 

Alectical  Society.' 

Accordingly,  I  took  my  pen, 

And  went  to  work  laboriously, 
And  wrote  a  verse  or  two,  and  then 

Disliked  it  most  notoriously. 
My  sentiments  were  all  too  dry, 

Too  full  of  dull  sobriety, 
To  please,  or  entertain  the  Di — 

Alectical  Society. 

I  next  tried  to  embellish  them, 
By  pruning  and  by  dressing  ; 

And  if  you  do  not  relish  them, 
'Twill  surely  be  distressing. 


180  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

But  should  they  please  the  critic's  eye, 
And  gain  some  notoriety, 

I  shall  be  grateful  to  the  Di — 
Alectical  Society. 

West  Point,  N.  Y.,  Nov.,  1828. 


THE   SEA   AND   THE   STOKM. 

"  I  have  said  that  the  honor  of  a  nation  requires  it  to  engage 
in  war  for  a  wise  end.  I  add,  as  a  more  important  rule,  that 
its  dignity  demands  of  it  to  engage  in  no  conflict  without  a  full 
consciousness  of  rectitude.  .  .  In  declaring  war,  it  should  listen 
to  the  voice  of  duty.  To  resolve  on  the  destruction  of  our  fel- 
low-creatures without  a  command  from  conscience,  a  commis- 
sion from  God,  is  to  hring  on  a  people  a  load  of  infamy  and 
crime." — Rev.  Dr.  Chaxmxg. 

The  mist  descended  from  the  snow 

That  whitened  o'er  the  cliff; 
The  clouds  were  gathering  still  and  slow 
And  solemn  darkness  reigned  below 

The  peak  of  Teneriffe. 

For  on  that  rocky  peak  and  high, 

Magnificent  and  lone, 
The  awful  storm-king  of  the  sky, 
Beyond  the  reach  of  mortal  eye, 

Had  reared  his  cloudy  throne. 


By  him  the  raging  winds  unfurled, 
Swept  o'er  the  prostrate  land  ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  181 

And  thence,  above  the  affrighted  world, 
The  flashing  thunder-bolts  were  hurled 
Forth  from  his  red  right  hand. 

Uprising  from  his  cave  of  jet, 

While  mists  obscured  his  form, 
With  streaming  locks  and  vesture  wet, 
The  Spirit  of  the  ocean  met 

The  Spirit  of  the  storm. 

"  And  why  so  madly  dost  thou  dare, 

Proud  Spirit  of  the  sea, 
To  tempt  the  monarch  of  the  air, 
With  the  whirlwind's  rage  and  the  lightning's  glare  ? 

What  seekest  thou  of  me  V 

"  I  have  risen  afar  from  my  coral  caves, 

Where  the  pearls  are  sparkling  bright, 
To  roam  o'er  the  isles  I  have  girt  with  my  waves ; 
And  I  hurl  defiance  at  thee  and  thy  slaves, 

And  I  challenge  thee  here  to  the  fifdit !" 

'•  Take  this  in  return  !"  and  the  thunderbolt  rushed 

From  the  midst  of  a  cloud  of  fire  ; 
The  tempest  forth  from  his  nostrils  gushed, 
And  the  island  forest  his  footsteps  crushed, 

In  the  burning  of  his  ire. 

Now  fierce  o'er  the  waters  mad  hurricanes  boom, 

And  the  depths  of  the  ocean  uprend ; 
Now  the  waves  lash  the  skies  as  they  madly  uploom, 
And  whirlwinds  and  billows  in  furious  gloom, 

Meet,  mingle,  and  fiercely  contend. 
16 


182  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

But  the  monarch  of  ocean  spurns  his  thrall, 

And  evades  his  fierce  control ; — 
Away  in  his  ice-clad  crystal  hall, 
He  still  reigns  absolute  monarch  of  all 

That  surround  the  frozen  pole. 

The  day  breaks  forth,  and  the  storm  is  past, — 

Again  are  the  elements  free ; 
But  many  a  vessel  is  still  sinking  fast, 
And  many  a  mariner  rests  at  last, 

In  the  bosom  of  the  sea  ! 

Even  thus  when  monarchs  hostilities  wage, 

And  the  war-cry  fills  the  air, 
When  nations  are  plundered,  and  armies  engage, 
The  peaceful  and  weak  fall  a  prey  to  their  rage, 

But  what  place  has  justice  there? 

West  Point,  N.  Y.,  Jan.,  1829. 


TO   MY   SISTEE. 

"  The  same  fond  mother  bent  at  night 
O'er  each  fair  sleeping  brow  ; 
She  had  each  folded  flower  in  sight, — 
Where  are  those  dreamers  now  ? 

11  They  that  with  smiles  lit  up  the  hall, 
And  cheered  with  song  the  hearth  : — 
Alas  !  for  love,  if  thou  wert  all, 
And  naught  beyond,  oh  earth  /" 

Mrs.  Hemans. 

Again  beneath  our  early  home, 
I  meet  thee,  filled  with  hope  and  gladness ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  183 

But  soon,  too  soon,  the  time  will  come, 
When  tears  of  joy  will  change  to  sadness. 

I  knew  thee  once,  a  beauteous  child, 

That  sweetly  in  the  cradle  smiled  ; 

And  I  have  rocked  thee  as  thou  slept, 

And  o'er  thy  slumber  vigils  kept. 

And  I  have  heard  thee  lisp  my  name, — 

And  ever  loved  thee  still  the  same, 

And  thought  of  thee  when  far  away 
Within  the  dwelling  of  the  stranger ; 

Through  lingering  eve,  and  livelong  day, 
Or  in  the  darkest  hour  of  danger. 

I  see  thee  now  a  vernal  flower, 
Its  hue  and  fragrancy  unfolding ; 

And  oh  !  in  spring's  delightful  bower, 
What  fairer  form  is  worth  beholding  f — 

But  other  changes  still  will  come, 

And  thou  wilt  leave  thine  early  home ; 

And  other  friends  will  meet  thy  gaze, 

And  other  tongues  will  speak  thy  praise, 

And  Providence  thy  life  will  bless, 

With  plenty,  peace,  and  happiness. 

Oh  then,  when  I  am  far  away, 
And  thou  art  given  to  another, 

Wilt  thou  among  the  proud  and  gay, 
Remember  still  thy  distant  brother ! 

Thus  on  the  rapid  years  will  pass, 
Till  life's  bright  summer  sun  be  shaded  ; 

And  then  thine  image  in  the  glass, 
Will  tell  thee  how"  those  charms  are  faded. 


184  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

And  friends  wiU  leave  thee  one  by  one, 

Till  all  thy  intimates  are  gone  ; 

And  sorrow  then  will  cloud  thy  brow, 

So  beautiful  and  joyous  now, 

Till  all  the  pleasures  known  before, 

Shall  be  experienced  no  more : 

And  then  the  final  change  will  come, 

And  all  the  ties  of  life  will  sever ; 

And  thou  wilt  sleep  beneath  the  tomb, 

To  wake  but  once  again,  forever ! 

And  what  is  life  %  'tis  all  of  time 
That  to  the  human  race  is  given  ; 

A  rugged  path  which  all  must  climb, 
That  sinks  to  hell,  or  mounts  to  heaven. 

'Tis  like  the  flowing  of  a  stream, 

Or  like  the  changes  of  a  dream. 

The  dream  that  flits  across  the  mind, 

Leaves  no  reality  behind  ; 

The  stream  is  lost  beneath  the  sea, 

As  time  beneath  eternity. 

Eternity  !  a  boundless  deep, 
Devouring  time  since  earth's  creation, 

Where  time  and  nature  both  must  sleep, 
Hereafter  in  annihilation ! 

'Tis  not  the  joys  that  earth  can  give, 
Though  good,  and  pure,  and  worth  possessing, 

For  which  the  prudent  mind  will  live, 
Or  which  will  prove  its  greatest  blessing. 

The  path  of  peace  and  innocence, 

A  conscience  void  of  all  offence, — 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  185 

The  Christian's  faith,  the  Christian's  love, 

The  gift  that  oometh  from  above, 

Are  higher,  nobler  ends  than  this, 

And  sources  of  a  purer  bliss. 

Oblivion  soon  will  spread  its  pall, 
Eternity  will  ope  its  portals, 

Alas  to  man,  if  earth  were  all 
Of  happiness  to  dying  mortals  ! 

May'st  thou,  my  sister,  seek  the  prize, 
That  lasts,  though  poverty  assail  thee  ; 

A  heritance  beyond  the  skies, 
A  treasure  that  will  never  fail  thee. 

May  peace  and  plenty  deck  thy  shrine, 

Be  health  and  reason  ever  thine ; 

May  truth  and  virtue  guide  thy  ways, 

Through  life's  perplexed  and  thorny  maze  ; 

And  may  religion  guard  thy  path, 

Through  life,  and  through  the  gates  of  death ; 

Then,  when  thy  form  in  darkness  lies, 
And  moulders  in  its  peaceful  slumbers, 

Serenely  may  thy  spirit  rise 
Where  angels  hymn  their  tuneful  numbers  ! 

Burlixgtox,  X.  Y.,  July,  1829. 


1G* 


186  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


TO  THE  EVENING  STAE. 


"  The  star  can  shine  on  many  brooks  ; 
The  brook  can  see  no  star  but  this." 


Star  of  evening,  beaming  bright, — 
With  a  never  dying  light ; 
Still  thy  constant  course  pursue, 
Ever  welcome  to  my  view. 

Star  of  evening,  I  have  oft 
"Watched  thy  constant  course  aloft, 
When  the  frequent  fleecy  cloud 
Wrapt  thee  in  its  sombre  shroud. 

I  have  waited  till  again 
Should  thy  beams  illume  the  plain ; 
And  have  seen  thy  parting  ray, 
O'er  the  waters,  twinkling,  play. 

When  the  sailor's  course  is  lost, 
And  his  vessel  tempest  toss'd. — 
Joyfully  he  turns  to  thee, 
As  thou  breakest  on  the  sea. 

When  thou  smilcst  from  above, 
In  the  sacred  hour  of  love  ; — 
Absent  beauty's  worshipper 
Looks  to  thee,  and  thinks  of  her. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

'Neath  thy  light,  the  vesper  hymn 
Peals  along  the  chapel  dim  ; 
And  tho  solemn  voice  of  prayer 
Mingles  with  the  dewy  air. 

'Xeath  thy  beams  the  shepherds  slept, 
Or  their  watchful  vigils  kept, 
When  the  angels  brought  to  earth 
Tidings  of  a  Saviour's  birth. 

Star  of  eve  !  thy  cheerful  rays 
Waken  thoughts  of  future  days, — 
Lead  our  minds  to  hopes  of  bliss, 
In  a  brighter  world  than  this. 

Thou  dost  seem  to  fancy's  eye, 
Throned  in  yonder  sparkling  sky, 
Like  a  home  of  endless  rest, 
For  the  spirits  of  the  blest. 


187 


While  I  wander  through  the  gloom 
Which  surrounds  my  mortal  doom, 
Still,  sweet  vision,  shine  afar, 
Be  thou  still  my  guiding  star. 

West  Point,  X.  Y.,  Oct.,  1829. 


188  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


A  SWISS  TALE. 

WRITTEN    IN    THE    ALBUM    OF  A  VERY    YOUNG    LADY,    OF    SWISS    DESCENT; 
SINCE    DECEASED. 

Far  in  a  lonely  vale  away, 
Where  Switzerland's  blithe  shepherds  stray  ; — 
Before  the  tyrant  Gessler  fell 
Beneath  the  sword  of  William  Tell ; 
Within  a  green  and  shady  wTood 
A  peasant's  cot  and  garden  stood. 
Behind  it  was  a  lofty  mountain, 
Beside  it  was  a  crystal  fountain  ; 
And  thence,  adown  the  garden  alley, 
A  stream  meandered  through  the  valley. 
Along  its  banks  the  flocks  would  graze ; 
And  oft  the  passing  stranger  gaze, 
To  see  the  shepherd  with  his  crook, 
Attend  the  sheep  beside  the  brook. 
For  he  it  was,  who  owrned  the  cot ; 
In  truth  it  was  a  lovely  spot ; 
The  garden  was  bedecked  with  flowers ; 
The  vines  had  clambered  o'er  the  bowers ; 
And  there,  beside  that  stream  of  water, 
Himself,  and  wife,  and  only  daughter 
Had  lived  contented  and  alone, 
By  all,  save  shepherd  friends,  unknown. 

Fair  Ellen  was  a  lovely  child, 
In  manners  sweet,  in  temper  mild 
In  conversation  always  gay, 
And  quick  her  parents  to  obey  ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Her  conduct  was  by  all  approved, 
And  all  the  youth  who  saw  her  loved. 
Young  Henry  was  a  noble  youth, 
His  heart  was  disciplined  in  truth  ; 
His  courage  oft  had  been  the  theme 
Of  all  the  hamlets  on  the  stream. 
His  father  lived  beneath  the  hill, 
His  flocks  were  pastured  by  the  rill, — 
And  Henry  oftentimes  would  roam 
To  spend  an  hour  at  Ellen's  home. 
Her  simple  song  and  artless  smile 
Would  oft  his  tedious  hours  beguile, 
Until  at  length,  in  maiden  pride, 
She  gave  her  vow  to  be  his  bride. 
It  was  a  glorious  day  of  spring, 
When  wood  and  dale  were  blossoming ; 
The  sun  was  shining  clear  and  bright, 
On  Uri  Rothstock's  lofty  height ; 
Its  peak,  forever  white  with  snow, 
Like  burnished  silver  shone  below  : 
And  all  along  its  craggy  side 
The  lofty  glaciers,  steep  and  wide, 
Of  massive  ice  a  mighty  load, 
O'erhung  young  Henry's  fair  abode : — 
When  Henry,  sitting  by  his  sheep, 
Watching  the  Rothstock's  dizzy  steep, 
Beheld, — oh  direful  was  the  day  ! 
Beheld  the  avalanche  give  way, 
Break  from  the  hill,  and  downward  dash. 
With  headlong  speed,  and  horrid  crash ; 
And  taking,  with  resistless  force, 
His  father's  cottage  in  its  course. 


189 


190  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Crush  it  to  atoms,  and  amain 
Move  thundering  onward  o'er  the  plain ! 
With  heart  distracted  at  the  view, 
Swift  toward  his  cottage  Henry  flew. 
He  found  his  father's  mangled  form, 
Bereft  of  life,  yet  bleeding — warm  ; 
But  all  the  rest  wTere  buried  deep 
Beneath  the  crushed  and  ruined  heap. 
With  tears  of  anguish  Henry  gave, 
All  that  remained  to  give,  a  grave ; 
Then  slowly  turning  down  the  dell, 
To  Ellen  bade  a  wild  farewell ; 
And  fled  afar  to  seek  relief, 
Oblivion  of  his  speechless  grief. 

But  now  the  tyrant  Gessler's  band 
Were  ravaging  fair  Switzerland ; 
And  many  a  chief,  by  many  a  river, 
At  midnight  filled  the  teeming  quiver ; 
And  many  a  freeman  aimed  his  dart 
In  secret  at  the  tyrant's  heart. 
Young  Henry  sought  the  patriot  brave, 
"  And  rushed  to  glory  or  the  grave." 
When  night  and  darkness  wrapt  the  sky 
And  torrents  fell,  and  winds  were  high, 
And  Uri  bay,  with  foaming  shore 
Echoed  the  billow's  fearful  roar, — 
The  patriot  heroes,  rushing  down, 
Regardless  of  the  tempest's  frown, 
Would  storm  the  unsuspecting  posts, 
Where  slept  the  tyrant's  fated  hosts, 
And  deadly  vengeance  dealt  the  blow 
Which  laid  the  hostile  cowards  low. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  191 

Anon  there  came  a  direful  tale, 
Of  threatened  crimes  in  Even's  vale  ; 
Of  Henry's  fame,  and  Gessler's  wrath, 
Of  flames,  and  robbery,  and  death. 
Swift  as  the  wind,  a  trusty  band 
Marshalled  at  Henry's  loved  command, 
Sped  over  mountain,  stream  and  fen, 
O'er  glacier  steep  and  rocky  glen, 
To  save  her  life,  or  share  the  lot  ' 
Of  Ellen  and  her  father's  cot. 
They  reached  the  vale,  they  saw  afar 
The  raging  flames,  proclaiming  war; 
They  heard  the  bell  toll  out  the  knell, 
While  echo  caught  the  solemn  swell  ' 
And  mingled  it  with  plaintive  cries, ' 
Which  rose  from  human  sacrifice  !  ' 

Young  Henry  saw,  and  spurred  his  steed  ;- 
On  soldiers,  on!  speed,  comrades,  speed!" 
W  ith  eyes  of  fire,  and  visage  fell, 
Which  flashed  with  rage  unspeakable, 
V*  ith  buckler  raised  and  sabre  drawn 
"Speed,  horsemen,  speed  !  on,  soldiers,  on  ■ 
Charge,  warriors,  charge!"  then,  vaulting,  sprung 
The  tyrant's  thickest  ranks  amonaf  '       b 

His  sabre  gleamed,  and  right  and° left, 
On  every  side  a  passage  cleft; 
The  cowards  quailed  beneath  his  arm 
Fleeing  with  haste,  and  wild  alarm-   ' 
His  trusty  warriors,  gathered  round 
Hewed  down  the  ranks,  hemmed  in  the  ground, 
lill  all  lay  bleeding  on  the  field. 
And  nut  a  foe  was  left  to  yield. 


192  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

But  now  advancing  o'er  the  plain 
Was  heard  the  trumpet's  joyful  strain  ; 
And  notes  of  triumph  swelled  the  gale, 
From  troops  advancing  through  the  vale. 
Loud  rolled  the  drum,  the  banners  waved : 
"  Shepherds  rejoice !  your  land  is  saved, 
The  days  of  anarchy  are  o'er, 
The  tyrant  welters  in  his  gore ; 
Our  troops  disperse,  our  tumults  cease, 
Our  country  now  shall  rest  in  peace  !" 

It  was  a  lovely  day  of  spring 
When' wood  and  vale  were  blossoming, 
And  birds  were  singing,  and  the  trees 
Yielded  their  perfume  to  the  breeze ; 
And  all  the  shepherds  of  the  valley 
Were  ranged  beside  the  chapel  alley  ; 
When,  arm  in  arm,  a  lovely  pair 
Passed  through  the  ranks  assembled  there,- 
And,  'mid  the  joyous  festal  throng, 
With  solemn  prayer,  and  sacred  song, 
Knelt  at  the  altar,  side  by  side ; 
And  Ellen  was  brave  Henry's  bride. 

West  Point,  N.  Y.,  Oct.,  1829. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  193 


MOEXIXG. 

"  Hues  of  the  rich  unfolding  morn, 
That,  ere  the  glorious  sun  be  born, 
By  some  soft  touch  invisible 
Around  his  path  are  taught  to  swell." 

Keble's  Christian  Year. 

Morn's  orient  beams  appear,  and  one  by  one, 
The  weary  stars,  retiring  from  their  watch, 
Quench  their  bright  lamps,  and  dimly  sink  to  rest. 
Blushing  Aurora  hides  before  the  Sun, 
Who  yonder  conies,  upon  his  fiery  car, 
To  ride  his  daily  circuit  through  the  sky, 
Dispensing  to  the  nations  light  and  life. 
A  flood  of  glory  showers  upon  the  peaks 
Of  lofty  mountains  ;  bursts  upon  the  plains ; 
Tinges  with  burnished  gold  the  lifted  clouds, 
That  seem  his  shady  canopy  ;  and  lights 
His  pathway  up  the  heavens.     Nature  awakes 
From  drowsy  slumber,  active  and  refreshed  ; 
And  air  and  earth  are  filled  with  animation. 
The  lowing  herd  disperse  upon  the  mead ; 
The  insect  myriads  murmur  forth  their  joy  ; 
And  thousand  songsters  warble  in  the  grove, 
Their  notes  melodious.     A  brighter  green 
Enrobes  the  foliage,  glittering  with  dew, 
And  decks  the  landscape.     Risen  with  the  sun, 
The  cheerful  ploughman  yokes  his  patient  team  ; 
And  while  the  fresh-turned  furrow  stripes  the  soil, 
Thinks  of  his  distant  harvest.     Loudest  now 
Rings  the  gay  anvil  with  redoubled  blows ; 
17 


194  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Not  amid  gloom,  as  when  in  Etna's  caves 
The  giant  Cyclops  forged  the  living  thunder. 
How  glorious  thus  at  morn  to  walk  abroad, 
Inhaling  perfume,  breathing  the  fresh  air, 
Listening  to  melody ;  while  all  around, 
We  view,  delighted,  nature's  lovely  works. 
In  mountain,  plain  or  stream,  in  earth  and  sky  ! 
Still  more  delightful,  when  with  beauty's  self, 
Creation's  last  and  best,  and  fairest  work, 
We  hold  sweet  converse  on  our  heedless  walk ! 

West  Point,  N.  Y.,  Nov.,  1829. 


EVENING. 

"  Now  glowed  the  firmament 
With  living  sapphires  ;  Hesperus  that  led 
The  starry  host,  rode  brightest,  till  the  moon, 
Rising  in  clouded  majesty,  at  length 
Apparent  queen,  unveiled  her  peerless  light, 
And  o'er  the  dark  her  silver  mantle  threw." 

Milton. 

'Tis  evening ;  and  the  sun  hath  sunk  to  rest, 
Mid  purple  clouds  descending ;  and  the  stars, 
Kindling  their  watchlights  from  his  blazing  fire, 
With  milder  radiance  fill  the  vault  of  heaven ; 
Each  to  the  others,  in  responsive  notes, 
Singing  the  praises  of  their  great  Creator. 
Now  the  bright  moon,  above  the  eastern  hill, 
Reveals  her  silver  chariot,  and  anon 
Climbs  up  the  empyrean.     Tangled  oft 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  195 

With  fleecy  clouds  ;  oft  bursting  into  view ; 

In  mellow  beauty  still  she  speeds  her  way. 

How  soft  her  beams  glance  on  yon  distant  lake, — 

Save  where  the  foiling  mist  obscures  its  face, 

And  curls  along  its  banks  until  afar 

Its  shores  are  blended  with  the  shades  of  night. 

How  freshly  breathes  the  air  upon  the  cheek, 

Beneath  the  woodbines  of  the  trellised  bower, 

After  the  sultry  heat  of  summer's  day  ; 

While  sweetest  flowers,  beneath  the  stilly  night, 

Yield  forth  their  perfume  !     Now  the  whippoorwill 

Wakens  the  echoes  in  their  viewless  caves, 

With  plaintive  music  mournful  to  the  soul, 

But  sweet  as  memory  of  days  gone  by. 

Hark  !  hear  the  serenade's  enchanting  notes 

Steal  o'er  the  plain,  melodious  and  soft, 

And  slow  approaching,  swell  upon  the  ear. 

Now  they  burst  forth  harmonious  and  loud, 

In  lofty  chorus ;  viol  and  guitar, 

Soul-soothing  flute,  and  tuneful  flageolet, 

And  mortal  voice,  that  angels  well  might  deem 

Of  some  blest  spirit  uttering  notes  of  joy  ! 

List  to  the  symphony  !  that  dying  fall ! 

And  now  it  fades  away,  soft  and  more  soft, 

Sweet  and  more  sweet,  in  solemn  stillness  hushed, 

Like  the  ^Eolian  harp,  when  suddenly 

The  breeze  departs  to  wake  its  chords  no  more. 

And  why  should  man  repine,  when  nature  thus 

Beams  often  bright  with  grandeur,  beauty,  bliss ! 

West  Point,  N.  T.,  Nov.,  1829. 


196  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE   CONJUKOB'S   SONG. 

SUNG  IN  THE  PART  OF  A  CONJUROR,  AT  A  FANCY  BALL. 

When  dusky  night  obscures  the  sky, 

I  mount  my  magic  car  ; 
And  over  the  moor  and  the  mountain  I  fly, 

To  chase  each  falling  star. 
And  I  take  invisible  forms, 

To  mount  above  the  ground, 
And  gather  the  lightnings  from  out  of  the  storms, 

While  the  thunder  rolls  around. 

I  delve  in  the  earth  and  dive  in  the  deep, 

Where  never  was  mortal  before ; 
The  tide  whirls  around,  and  the  mad  billows  leap, 

And  the  hurricanes  loudly  roar ; 
The  stars  and  the  planets  retire, 

The  sun  sinks  under  the  main 
Volcanoes  break  out  with  their  torrents  of  fire, 

And  earthquakes  heave  the  plain. 

Still  downward  afar  I  wend  my  way, 

Till  I  reach  my  magic  hall, 
Where  goblins,  and  witches,  and  elfins  gray, 

Attend  my  mighty  call : 
And  I  bind  them  down  with  the  spell, 

Of  the  mystic  symbols  ten  ; 
And  weave  the  enchantment  that  aids  me  to  tell 

The  hidden  fate  of  men. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  197 

But  now  I'm  returned  from  the  ends  of  the  earth, 

With  my  wand,  tiara,  and  all, — 
To  spend  a  few  moments  of  pleasure  and  mirth, 

And  attend  the  Fancy  Ball : — 
Till  my  wandering  star  shall  appear, 

And  the  midnight  bell  be  tolled  ; — 
Then,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  freely  draw  near, 

And  the  book  of  your  fates  unfold. 

West  Point,  X.  Y.,Feb.,  1830. 


ELEGY. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MISS  CATHARINE  ALDEN  J  YOUNGEST  DAUGHTER  OF 
MAJOR  R.  ALDEN,  A  MUCH  RESPECTED  OFFICER  OF  THE  REVOLUTIONARY 
WAR.  SHE  DIED  AT  WEST  POINT,  SEPT.  29,  1838  J  AGED  TEN  YEARS, 
TEN  MONTHS,  AND  TEN  DAYS. 

"  Elle  etait  de  ce  monde  oil  les  plus  belles  choses 
Ont  le  pire  destin  ; 
Et  rose,  elle  a  vecu  ce  que  vivent  les  roses, 
L'espace  d'un  matin." 

Malherbe. 


She  is  gone  from  her  home,  from  her  kindred  departed ; 
To  the  dust  we  resjgn  her,  the  young  and  pure-hearted. 
The  form  that  we  loved,  and  the  hopes  that  we  cherished, 
Ere  yet  their  bright  morning  was  over,  have  perished, 
No  more  to  her  friends,  in  this  sojourn  of  sorrow, 
Shall  the  sweet  voice  of  Catharine  e'er  welcome  the  mor- 
row. 
17* 


198  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

To  us  was  her  presence  a  fountain  of  sweetness, 
Her  mortal  existence  a  bright  dream  of  fleetness. 
But  the  chain  that  had  bound  her  fair  spirit  is  broken, 
The  final  farewell  has  been  mournfully  spoken, 
And  long  shall  her  friends  for  her  absence  be  weeping, 
Who  now  in  yon  silent  green  valley  lie  sleeping. 

She  is  gone  to  her  rest,  to  her  kindred  departed, 

To  the  choirs  of  the  angels,  so  young  and  pure-hearted. 

The  Lord  hath  but  taken  the  gift  He  had  given, 

Too  lovely  for  earth,  hath  recalled  it  to  heaven ; 

And  the  blossom  now  plucked  from  the  arbor  in  sadness, 

Shall  there  bloom,  unfading,  in  beauty  and  gladness. 

Then  weep,  ye  who  loved  her,  now  lone  and  forsaken, 
But  weep  not  for  her  whom  her  Saviour  hath  taken. 
She  is  gone  ere  the  fragrance  of  childhood  was  blighted, 
Or  the  spirit's  pure  pathway  grown  dim  and  benighted ; 
And  soon  shall  ye  meet  her,  though  now  doomed  to  sever, 
To  greet,  and  to  dwell  with  your  Catharine  forever. 

West  Point,  X.  Y„  Sept.  30, 1830. 


ISABELLE. 

SUGGESTED  BY  THE  TALE  OF  THE  "  BROKEN  HEART,"  IN  THE  "  DIARY  OF  A 
LATE   PHYSICIAN." 

The  sun  had  set  upon  the  shore, 
Which  murmured  to  the  Hurlgate's  roar ; 
Where  thousand  pennons  floated  free, 
In  graceful  folds  above  the  sea, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  199 

Till  dusky  twilight's  sombre  hue 
Obscured  the  beauty  of  the  view. 
The  island  city's  busy  din,  • 
Where  late  the  noisy  crowd  had  been, 

Subsided  in  the  gloom  ; 
And  dark  without,  but  bright  within, 

Grew  many  a  happy  home. 
To  one  it  was  a  festal  night, 
Devoted  all  to  wild  delight, 

To  merriment  and  mirth  ; 
Few  are  the  maids  that  may  compare 
With  her  the  loved,  the  pure,  the  fair, 

Who  called  those  feelings  forth ; 
And  many  bosom  friends  were  met, 
In  festival  to  celebrate 

The  evening  of  her  birth. 
A  massive,  crystal  chandelier, 
Illumed  with  lustre  soft  and  clear, 

That  wide  and  splendid  hall, — 
Where  richly  glowed  in  every  part 
The  painter's  skill,  the  sculptor's  art, 
With  mirror  bright  and  wTreathed  festoon, 
Mingled  in  that  superb  saloon, 

And  hung  around  the  wall. 
The  board  is  set, — 
The  guests  are  met, — 

Joy  animates  the  throng ; 
And  beauty's  smiles, 
And  pleasure's  wiles 

The  varied  feast  prolong. 
With  flashes  bright, 
Of  dazzling  light, 


200  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Beams  many  a  lovely  eye ; 
While  the  rosy  cheek, 
And  the  red  lip  speak 
Of  joyous  thoughts  and  high ; 
As  the  spirit  of  bliss, 
In  an  hour  like  this, 
Had  stolen  from  the  sky, 
To  revel  in  mirth, 
'Mid  the  sons  of  earth, 
And  the  minstrel's  melody. 
Their  hearts  are  warmed  with  unwonted  glow 
Their  feelings  are  fed  by  the  freshest  flow, 
And  were  it  thus  ever,  the  earth  might  be 
A  dwelling  meet  for  eternity. 

Bland  pleasure  waves  her  silken  crest, 

And  sounds  her  magic  shell ; 
Responsive  wakes,  in  every  guest, 

The  sympathetic  spell ; 
Each  brow  is  bright,  and  every  breast 

Throbs  with  ecstatic  swell ; 
Save  hers,  the  sweetest  and  the  best, 
The  gentle  mistress  of  the  feast, 
The  lovely  lsabelle. 
For  her  lover  has  rushed  at  his  country's  call, 

His  country's  fame  to  save ; 
He  has  left  his  home  and  his  father's  hall, 
To  preserve  from  the  angry  Lion's  thrall 

The  Eagle  of  the  brave. 
He  is  gone  to  the  West,  to  the  far  frontier, 

Unto  Erie's  stormy  shore, 
Where  the  warrior  at  midnight  starts  to  hear 
The  thundering  cannon's  roar : 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  201 

And  the  shrieks  of  the  dying  pierce  the  ear, 

Till  they  sleep  to  wake  no  more. 
Young  Duncan  loved,  as  a  hero  may, 
With  a  fervent,  quenchless  love ; — for  they 

Who  are  true  to  their  country's  fame, 
Will  deepest  conceal,  but  will  warmest  feel 

The  love  but  one  may  claim. 
And  sad  was  the  hour  which  saw  him  depart, 

And  pronounce  the  last  farewell ; 
But  sadder  still  thenceforth  was  the  heart 
Of  the  gentle  Isabelle. 

And  now  she  sat  in  thoughtful  mood, 
As  if  in  pensiveness  to  brood 
O'er  some  impending  ill ; 
While  wit  and  mirth  the  tables  crowned, 
And  merry  voices  rang  around, 

Where  she  alone  was  still ; 
And  oft  as  rose  the  peals  of  gladness, 
She  sank  in  more  absorbing  sadness. 

The  banquet  ceased,  but  more  refined, 
Remained  the  banquet  of  the  mind  ; 
While  love  and  friendship  strewed  the  hours 
With  youthful  feeling's  choicest  flowers  ; 
Till  music's  notes  to  rapture  rung, 
And  passion  gazed  while  beauty  sung  ; — 
Yet  still  a  deeper  sadness  fell 
Upon  the  breast  of  Isabelle. 
Her  friends,  to  rally  her,  in  vain 
Call  forth  the  lyre's  enchanting  strain ; 
Though  each  in  turn  the  task  begin, 
With  soothing  notes  her  mind  to  win ; 


202  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

They  cannot  reach  the  train  of  thought, 
That  lies  too  deep  to  be  forgot. 
At  length  they  call  on  Isabelle 
To  sing  the  strains  they  love  so  well. 
With  many  a  kind  and  pressing  word, 
She  sits  beside  her  harpsichord ; 
Then  solemnly  and  mournfully, 
Pours  forth  a  plaintive  symphony  ; — 
And  wild,  and  wailing,  as  the  grief 
To  which  no  time  can  bring  relief ; — 
While  deep  excitement  swells  each  vein, 
Sings  sweetly  this  prophetic  strain.* 

"  He  is  gone  on  the  mountain, 

He  is  lost  to  the  forest, 
Like  a  summer-dried  fountain, 

When  our  need  was  the  sorest ! 
The  font,  reappearing, 

From  the  rain-drops  shall  borrow, 
But  to  us  comes  no  cheering, 

To  Duncan  no  morrow  ! 

"  The  hand  of  the  reaper 

Takes  the  ears  that  are  hoary, 
But  the  voice  of  the  weeper 

Wails  manhood  in  glory. 
The  autumn  winds  rushing, 

Waft  the  leaves  that  are  searest, 
But  our  flower  was  in  flushing, 

When  blighting  was  nearest. 

*  The  Coronach,  from  the  "  Lady  of  the  Lake." 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  203 

"  Fleet  foot  on  the  correi, 

Sage  counsel  in  cumber, 
Red  hand  in  the  foray, 

How  sound  is  thy  slumber, 
Like  the  dew  on  the  mountain, 

Like  the  foam  on  the  river, 
Like  the  bubble  on  the  fountain, 

Thou'rt  gone  and  forever." 

She  paused,  and  now,  as  if  inspired, 
With  superhuman  visions  fired, 
A  solemn  prelude,  wild  and  vague, 
Announced  the  battle  piece  of  Prague. 
At  first  it  seems  with  hurried  speed, 
The  distant  troops  their  marches  lead ; 
While  echoing  clarions  swell  the  strain, 
That  leads  them  to  the  battle  plain. 
Then  rings  the  trumpet's  call  to  arms, 
Then  beat  the  doubled  drums'  alarms ; 
Then  rank  by  rank  the  squadrons  wheel, 
'Mid  cannon's  roar  and  musket's  peal ; 
Rush  on  to  the  charge,  till  they  break  and  retire, 
"Neath  sulphurous  clouds,  amid  flashing  fire, 
Where  the  fallen  wounded,  with  groans  expire, 
While  the  awful  God  of  War  rides  thund'ring  in  his  ire! 
Thus,  as  the  battle-song  progresses, 
With  vivid  touch  the  keys  she  presses ; 
Wakes  the  deep  compass  of  the  notes, 
Like  thunder  from  the  cannons'  throats, 
And  strikes — hush — hush, — she  stops,  she  cries. 
"  Oh  mercy.  Heaven !  my  Duncan  dies  !" 
She  faints, — she  foils  ! — haste  to  her  aid ! — 
Bear  from  the  halls  the  sinking  maid  ! — 


204  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Bring  water  !  perfume,  odors  rare ! 

Open  the  casement  to  the  air  ! 

Away  !  bring  in  the  healing  art !  .  .  . 

But  can  it  reach  the  wounded  heart  ?  .  .  .  . 

Hush !  heard  ye  not  that  boding  knell  1 

Oh  !  God  of  Heaven,  save  Isabelle  ! 

"  Pardon,  dear  friends,  our  broken  feast, 
A  kind  good  night  to  every  guest ; 
And  may  a  happier  morning  light 
Restore  the  pleasures  of  this  night." 

The  guests  are  departed,  the  hall  is  forlorn ; 
The  maiden  beloved  to  her  chamber  is  borne  ; 
She  rests,  on  the  pillow  designed  for  a  bride  ; 
Her  kindred  are  gathered  and  stand  by  her  side. 
"  Awake,  Isabelle  !  'tis  your  mother  who  cries," 
And  feebly  and  slowly  she  opens  her  eyes, — 
Looks  briefly  to  heaven,  then  murmurs  with  pain, 
"  'Tis  sweet,  dearest  Duncan,  to  meet  you  again ! 
Farewell,  my  dear  mother,  farewell !" — 'tis  the  last ; 
Her  soul  has  departed,  her  trials  are  past. 
Her  parents  are  weeping ;  she  sheds  not  a  tear ; 
Loved  voices  are  calling ;  but  she  does  not  hear. 
She  sleeps,  with  the  host  that  no  dream  shall  awaken, 
Till  the  tomb  shall  be  left  by  its  ashes  forsaken ; 
She  rests  from  life's  pilgrimage,  feels  not  its  sorrow ;- 
Her  journey  is  over,  she  heeds  not  the  morrow. 
The  hyacinth  blossom  is  plucked  from  its  stem, 
The  casket  is  broken,  and  gone  is  the  gem ! 
Pale  Death,  the  grim  archer,  hath  bended  his  bow ; 
The  arrow  hath  sped,  and  the  dove  is  brought  low ! 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  205 

Oh !  fair  was  the  victim  thus  fated  to  bleed, 
And  well  might  the  spoiler  exult  in  his  deed ! 

And  still  were  they  weeping  for  Isabelle, 
When  tidings  came  that  young  Duncan  fell 
In  the  battle's  front,  mid  the  enemy's  gore, 
On  Niagara's  foam-clad,  star-lit  shore, — 
While  bearing  the  star-spangled  banner  on  high, 
And  raising  the  shout  of  victory  ! 

West  Point,  K.  Y.,  Feb.,  1831. 


COOPEKSTOWK 

IX    REMEMBRANCE    OF  A  VISIT  TO    COOPERSTOWN,  AND    PARTY  OX    OTSEGO 
LAKE,  AUGUST  19,   1831. 

Vale  of  Otsego,  ever  dear, 

Bright  are  thy  scenes  to  fancy's  eye ; 
And  noble  bosoms  throb  sincere, 

Beneath  thy  mellow,  radiant  sky. 
Peace  to  thy  village  walks  and  spires ; 

Peace  to  thy  waters  and  thy  shades ; 
Bliss  to  thy  matrons  and  thy  sires ; 

And  bliss  to  thy  unrivalled  maids  ! 

Bright  is  Geneva's  lake  of  blue ; 

Grand  is  Niagara's  awful  roar ; 
Wild  is  the  Catskill's  rugged  view ; 

And  sweet  Lake  George's  placid  shore. 
But  bright,  and  grand,  and  wild,  and  sweet, 

Thy  lake  of  blue,  and  hills  of  green, 
18 


206  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Where  thousand  mingled  beauties  meet, 
To  shed  a  halo  o'er  the  scene. 

Nor  art  thou  doomed  to  waste  unknown, 

Nor  fades  thy  loveliness  untold; 
For  he,  thou  claimest  as  thine  own, — 

Hi<m  on  the  list  of  fame  enrolled, — 
Hath  pictured  in  the  glowing  page 

Each  scene  where  mem'ry  loves  to  dwell ; 
And  Gallic  youth,  and  German  sage, 

In  other  climes  thy  beauties  tell. 

They  stand  beside  the  precipice, 

And  mark  the  falling  of  the  deer  ; 
They  linger  o'er  the  steep  abyss, 

And  tremble  for  the  Pioneer. 
They  rove  the  mansion's  lordly  halls, 

Where  every  object  brings  its  charm  ; 
Where,  ominous,  the  pictured  walls 

Display  Britannia's  severed  arm* 

They  wander  through  the  pathless  wood, 

Where  spring  renews  her  leafy  bower, 
Where  Nature,  in  her  solitude, 

Exerts  her  wonder-working  power. 
They  view  her  now,  as  in  her  prime, 

She  sat  in  Eden's  calm  recess ; — 
Majestic,  simple  and  sublime, 

The  spirit  of  the  wilderness. 


*  This  alludes  to  the  papering  of  the  mansion  at  Cooperstown,  as  described 
in  the  «  Pioneers,"  which  the  writer  observed  to  compare  with  the  descnpt.on. 
The  figure  of  the  papering  represents  Britannia,  personified  as  a  female  figure 
resting  upon  an  urn  ;  but  owing  to  a  fault  in  the  pasting,  the  arm,  wh.ch  comes 
on  a  separate  roll,  was  severed  from  the  body. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  207 

They  leap  on  board  the  light  canoe, 

They  skim  across  the  crystal  lake, — 
With  not  a  breeze  the  deep  to  woo, 

With  not  a  ripple  in  their  wake, 
Or  silent  spread  the  knotted  twine, 

At  evening,  from  the  distant  strand ; 
Then,  gathering  in  the  fatal  line, 

Bring  countless  victims  to  the  land. 

Thus  fancy's  wand,  the  magic  pen, 

Thy  forest  charms  hath  well  expressed ; 
And  mirrored  thee  as  thou  wast  then, 

The  model  of  the  rising  West. 
Happy  the  author  who  can  claim 

A  vale  so  lovely  as  his  own ; 
Happy  the  village  that  can  name 

So  worthy  and  so  famed  a  son. 

And  thou  art  changed  ; — yet  sweetly  changed ; 

In  thy  maturer  garb  arrayed ; 
More  bright,  more  fair,  but  not  estranged 

From  those  who  roamed  thy  forest  glade. 
The  lofty  spires  and  clustered  town, 

The  meadows  wet  with  early  dew, 
Add  lustre  to  the  mountains  brown, 

And  yield  the  wave  a  softer  hue. 

I  marked  thee  thus,  one  blissful  morn, 
When  summer  breathed  its  balmy  sighs, 

When  music's  cheerful  notes  were  borne 
In  echoes  to  the  shining  skies ; 

When  gliding  o'er  the  ruffled  sea, 
Our  bark  pursued  its  rapid  way, 


208  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

And  maiden's  smile,  and  manhood's  glee, 
Gave  promise  of  that  happy  day. 

We  wandered  through  the  verdant  bowers, 

We  listened  to  the  murmuring  rill, 
Or  on  the  lawn  bestrewn  with  flowers, 

We  met  to  dance  the  light  quadrille. 
We  rowed  beneath  the  pendant  grove, 

And  cast  abroad  the  tiny  hook  ; 
While  many  a  lovely  angler  strove 

To  ensnare  the  rover  of  the  brook. 

We  gathered,  in  the  sportive  ring, 

The  merry  sylvan  games  to  share ; 
We  cooled  our  wine  beneath  the  spring, 

And  spread  our  rural  banquet  there. 
We  parted  when  the  moonbeam  shone 

Upon  the  water's  misty  breast ; 
When  twilight  music's  dying  tone 

Composed  the  willing  soul  to  rest. 

'Twas  thus,  as  poets  tell  the  tale, 

Arcadian  shepherds  passed  the  day  ; 
And  thus  in  Tempe's  rivalled  vale, 

The  happy  moments  flew  away. 
And  mem'ry  oft  on  scenes  like  this 

Shall  bid  enraptured  fancy  dwell ; 
Or  whisper  ;  waked  from  dreams  of  bliss  ; 

Vale  of  Otsego,  fare  thee  well. 

Newport,  R.  L,  Nov.,  1831. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  209 


TO  THE  PACKET  SHIP  *  *  * 

"  Sic  te  Diva  potens  Cypri, 

Sic  fratres  Helenae,  lucida  sidera, 
Ventorumque  regat  pater, 

Obstrictis  aliis,  praeter  Japyga, 
Navis,  quae  tibi  creditum 

Debes  Yirgilium,  finibus  Atticis. 
Reddas  incolumen,  precor ; 

Et  serves  animae  dimidium  meae." 

Hor.  Carmina. 

Speed,  gallant  bark,  to  thy  home  o'er  the  wave  ! 
The  clouds  gather  dark,  and  the  mad  billows  rave ; — 
The  tempest  blows  o'er  thee,  and  scatters  the  spray, 
That  lies  in  thy  wake,  as  thou  wingest  thy  way. 

Speed,  gallant  bark,  to  the  land  of  the  free, 
The  home  of  the  happy,  beyond  the  wide  sea  ! 
Dear  friends  and  near  kindred,  the  lovely  and  fair, 
Are  waiting,  impatient,  to  welcome  thee  there ! 

Speed,  gallant  bark  !  there's  a  seat  at  the  board, 
Which  the  dame  and  the  damsel  reserve  for  their  lord  ; 
And  the  fond-hearted  maiden  is  sighing  in  vain, 
To  welcome  her  long  absent  lover  again. 

Speed,  gallant  bark  !  richer  cargo  is  thine, 
Than  Brazilian  gem,  or  Peruvian  mine ; 
And  the  treasures  thou  bearest,  thy  destiny  wait ; 
For  they,  if  thou  perish,  must  share  in  thy  fate. 

Speed,  gallant  bark !  though  the  land  is  afar, 
And  the  storm-clouds  above  thee  have  veiled  every  star  ; 
18* 


210  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

The  needle  shall  guide  thee,  the  helm  shall  direct, 
And  the  God  of  the  tempest  thy  pathway  protect ! 

Speed,  gallant  bark,  though  the  lightning  may  flash ; 
And  over  thy  deck  the  huge  surges  may  dash ; — 
Thy  sails  are  all  reefed,  and  thy  streamers  are  high ; 
Unheeded  and  harmless  the  billows  roll  by ! 

Speed,  gallant  bark  !  the  tornado  is  past; 
Staunch  and  secure,  thou  hast  weathered  the  blast ; 
Now  spread  thy  full  sails  to  the  wings  of  the  morn, 
And  soon  the  glad  harbor  shall  greet  thy  return ! 

Newport,  R.  I,  Nov.,  1831. 


THE  GENIUS   OF  ROMANCE. 

The  object  of  this  composition  was  to  describe  the  different  class- 
es of  romances  which  have  appeared  in  our  language.  "  Paris- 
mus  and  Parismenus,"  The  Mysteries  of  Udolpho,"  "  The  Three 
Spaniards,"  "The  Children  of  the  Abbey,"  and  "Tom  Jones,"  are 
particularly  alluded  to ;  as  forming  a  series  gradually  leaving  the 
supernatural,  and  approaching  the  realities  of  life;  and  the  con- 
cluding stanzas  allude  to  the  novels  of  Scott,  Bulwer,  and  Cooper. 

Have  you  seen  the  wight,  as  you  may  perchance, 

Ycleped  the  Genius  of  Romance  1 

He  has  travelled  every  inch  of  ground, 

In  the  whole  of  merry  England  round  ; 

Has  been  to  Italy,  France,  and  Spain, 

And  was  very  glad  to  return  again ; 

Till  at  length  he  took  a  notion  to  come 

And  see  brother  Jonathan's  notions  at  home. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  211 

He  considers  the  world  as  a  masquerade, 
Where  all  kinds  of  tricks  may  be  lawfully  played ; 
And  many  a  mask  he  has  donned  and  tried, 
But  his  changeable  phiz  he  could  never  hide. 
Of  mystery,  scheming,  and  sentiment,  full, 
He  has  long  been  a  favorite  of  old  Johnny  Bull, 
And  the  very  worst  scrape  in  which  ever  he  got, 
He  was  glad  to  get  out  of  by  paying  his  Scott. 

A  giant  of  old,  in  some  castle  vast, 

Far  off,  in  a  forest  or  desert  waste, 

He  would  rouse  some  knight,  with  enchanted  horn, 

To  rue  the  day  that  he  ever  was  born : 

For  a  blow  of  the  giant's  ponderous  mace 

Would  fell  the  knight  errant  flat  on  his  face ; 

And  a  fiery  dragon,  winged  for  flight, 

Bear  the  shrieking  damsel  away  from  sight. 

Next  he  came  as  a  goblin  grim, 

When  the  castle  halls  at  eve  grew  dim ; 

And  many  a  scream  or  dismal  groan, 

At  midnight  he  uttered  from  dungeon  lone  ; 

Or  a  pale  sad  spectre  robed  in  white, 

From  a  gloomy  niche  he  would  start  upright ; 

While  the  lamps  burnt  dim  with  a  spectral  hue, 

And  the  warder  tottered  aghast  at  the  view. 

Then  forth  he  stalked  with  a  murderer's  scowl, 
Disguised  and  muffled  in  cassock  and  cowl ; 
He  knew  a  false  pamiel  that  softly  might  slide, 
He  drew  his  dagger  and  pushed  it  aside, 
He  entered  the  chamber  and  warily  crept 
To  the  side  of  the  bed  where  the  innocent  slept ; 


212  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

He  drew  the  curtain  that  sheltered  his  guest, 

And  plunged  the  sharp  dagger  full  deep  in  his  breast. 

Anon  he  appeared  as  an  orphan  maid, 
In  beauty's  purity  all  arrayed ; 
By  some  true  lover  faithfully  wooed, 
By  lawless  passion  madly  pursued  ; 
Oppressed  by  want  and  the  tempter's  power, 
With  naught  but  virtue  for  shield  and  dower ; 
Till  Heaven,  propitious  to  her  distress, 
Restored  her  to  love  and  happiness. 

Again,  he  sprung  up,  as  a  random  shoot, 

A  generous  scion  from  noble  root, 

With  faults  and  foibles  like  other  youth, 

But  his  heart  the  fountain  and  mirror  of  truth, 

Who  loved  and  suffered,  repented  and  erred, 

Still  by  his  mistress  excused  and  preferred, 

Till  at  length,  succeeding  to  title  and  land, 

The  friends  of  the  maiden  concede  him  her  hand. 

Then  he  came  masked  as  the  Great  Unknown, 
In  a  thousand  shapes  that  were  all  his  own ; 
Now  as  the  Temple's  proudest  knight, 
Rushing  forth  to  the  panoplied  fight ; 
As  the  chieftain  now  that  is  true  in  death, 
To  his  king  and  clan,  to  his  friends  and  faith ; 
Or  the  haughtiest  noble  that  bends  the  knee 
To  the  brightest  of  England's  royalty. 

Risen  again,  he  appeared  to  view, 
In  many  a  mask  of  a  sombre  hue  • 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  213 

Haunting  the  market,  fair,  or  race ; 
Sallying  forth  from  his  hiding-place  ; — 
By  evil  example  led  astray, 
A  gentleman  styled  on  the  king's  highway ; 
Disowned  and  neglected  by  kith  and  kin, 
And  caught  in  the  meshes  of  vice  and  sin. 

At  length  he  roved  in  the  Western  wild, 
In  dress  and  simplicity  Nature's  child ; 
O'er  verdant  prairie  or  mountain  brown, 
Far  from  the  hum  of  the  busy  town ; 
Till  he  heard  the  woodman's  axe  resound 
In  the  midst  of  the  Indian's  hunting-ground, 
Then  bent  his  way  to  a  wilder  sod, 
Where  the  white  man's  foot  had  never  trod. 

Newport,  R.  I.,  April  6,  1832. 


THE  LAST  PEAYEE    OF  QUEEN"   MAEY. 

"  O  Domine  Dels  !  speravi  in  te  ; 
O  care  mi  Jesu,  nunc  libera  me  : — 
In  dura  catena, 
In  misera  poena, 

Desidero  te, — 
Languendo,  gemendo, 
Et  genuflectendo, 
Adoro,  imploro  ut  liberes  me." 

TRANSLATION. 

O  Lord,  my  God,  I  have  trusted  in  thee ! 
O  thou  dearest  Jesus,  now  liberate  me ; 


214  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Iii  rigorous  chains, 
In  misery's  pains, 

My  desire  is  for  thee ; 
While  languidly  kneeling, 
In  sorrow's  deep  feeling, 
I  adore,  I  implore  thee  to  liberate  me. 

Newport,  R.  I.,  Oct.,  1832. 


A   BEOTHEK'S   MEMENTO. 

WRITTEN   IN   AN   ALBUM. 

"But  not  in  Fashion's  brilliant  hall, 
Surrounded  by  the  gay  and  fair, 
And  thou  the  fairest  of  them  all, — 
0,  think  not,  think  not  of  me  there. 

"  But  when  the  thoughtless  crowd  is  gone, 
And  hushed  the  voice  of  senseless  glee, 
When  all  is  silent,  still,  and  lone, 
And  thou  art  sad,  remember  me." 

E.  Everett. 

My  Sister, 

Accept  the  minstrel's  token, 

And  preserve  his  feeble  lay, 
When  the  last  fond  word  is  spoken, 

And  thy  brother  for  away. 
While  life  and  strength  are  left  him, 

And  wherever  be  his  lot, 
Till  mem'ry  is  bereft  him 

Thou  shalt  never  be  forgot. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  215 

Though  hope's  bright  torch  be  lighted, 

With  devotion  from  on  high, 
Or  thy  fairest  prospects  blighted, 

Under  sorrow's  frowning  sky  ; 
Whatever  fate  befall  thee, 

Whatever  ills  portend, 
Whatever  fears  appal  thee, 

Thou  hast  still  in  him  a  friend. 

He  leaves  thee, — not  in  sorrow  : 

Departs, — but  not  with  pain ; 
For  hope  points  out  the  morrow, 

When  we  shall  meet  again : 
And  still  on  God  relying, 

Our  minds  may  always  rest, 
That  in  living  or  in  dying, 

His  children  shall  be  blest. 

Receive  his  words  of  kindness, 

And  list  to  wisdom's  voice  ; 
Wakened  from  nature's  blindness, 

Pursue  thy  happy  choice : 
Oh  !  better  far  to  languish, 

And  throw  earthly  hopes  aside, 
Than  wake  to  future  anguish, 

In  perdition's  endless  tide  ! 

Then  court  not  present  pleasure, 

But  duty's  calls  obey, 
And  gather  up  thy  treasure 

Where  it  never  can  decay  : 
Like  the  pure  blue  stream  that  meets  thee, 

May  thv  holv  feelings  flow: 


216  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Like  the  bright  green  vale  that  greets  thee, 
Be  thy  love  to  all  below. 

Seek  first  the  bliss  of  heaven, 

Thy  earthly  cares  resign  ; 
And  all  things  shall  be  given 

To  the  heir  of  grace  divine. 
Then  fear  not  fortune's  arrow, 

But  place  in  him  thy  trust, 
•  Who  seeth  not  e'en  the  sparrow 

Fall  unnoticed  to  the  dust. 

In  the  gift  of  His  affection, 

May  thy  love  to  Him  increase ; 
And  beneath  His  kind  protection, 

May'st  thou  live  a  life  of  peace : 
And  of  all  his  laws  observant, 

May'st  thou  hear  the  joyful  word, 
"  Welcome,  thou  faithful  servant, 

To  the  bosom  of  thy  Lord  !" 

Burlington,  N.  Y.,  Dec.  6,  1832. 


TPIE   CARRIER'S  ADDRESS. 

WRITTEN     FOR     THE     "  FREEMAN'S     JOURNAL,"    COOPERSTOWN,    N.    V.,    AT 
THE    REQUEST    OF   ITS    ESTEEMED    EDITOR. 

To  you,  kind  Patrons,  on  this  festal  day, 
The  humble  news-boy  brings  his  duteous  laj  ; 
With  gratitude  the  Arab  wish  he  bears, 
That  each  of  you  may  "live  a  thousand  years;" 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


217 


And  every  one  be  passed  in  constant  bliss, 
In  unalloyed,  increasing  happiness  ; 
While  he  himself  would  gladly  live  as  long, 
Each  new  year's  day  to  greet  you  with  his  song. 

With  unabating  speed,  the  unwearied  sun 
Another  circuit  in  the  heavens  has  run  ; 
And  midnight  voices,  to  the  waking  ear, 
Announce  the  advent  of  the  glad  new  year. 

And,  as  the  traveller  on  the  mountain's  brow, 
Ling'ring,  looks  back  upon  the  vale  below ; 
Marks  each  bright  landscape,  each  enchanting  spot 
Of  groves  and  streamlets,  left,  but  not  forgot ; 
Or  forward  turns,  to  seek  with  anxious  glance, 
What  scenes  will  meet  him  as  his  steps  advance  ;— 
So  would  we  pause,  with  retrospective  thought 
Of  each  event  time's  rapid  course  hath  brought ; 
So  mark  the  sunny  hours  forever  fled, 
So  weep  for  friendship  withered  with  the  dead  ; — 
Withered,  not  blasted  ;— wintered  in  the  tomb, 
To  spring,  hereafter,  in  immortal  bloom ; — 
So  would  we  strive,  by  reason's  feeble  light. 
To  pierce  the  future,  with  prophetic  sight : 
So  choose  our  path,  that,  life's  brief  journey  past, 
We  all  may  reach  one  happy  goal  at  last. 

Turn  we  then  first  to  Europe's  high  career, 
And  mark  her  progress  through  the  closing  year. 

Alas  for  Poland!  prostrate  in  the  dust, 
She  long  bewailed  her  spoiler's  broken  trust ; 
Till  roused  to  action  by  her  deep-felt  woe, 
She  turned  and  grappled  with  her  faithless  toe  ; 
Poured  out  her  life-blood  on  the  battle-plain, 
And  struggled  bravely  till  the  task  was  vain ; — 
10 


218  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Then  overpowered,  beneath  the  tyrant's  grasp, 
Yielded  her  freedom  with  her  dying  gasp ! 
Ye  who  have  wept  o'er  Kosciusko's  bier, — 
For  his  lost  country  shed  one  kindly  tear ! 
Mourn,  sons  of  freedom,  for  her  fallen  brave ! 
Others  she  helped,  herself  she  could  not  save. 

Where  late  the  lily  only  bloomed  to  fade, 
See  the  tri-colored  banner  now  displayed  ; 
A  tyrant  banished  by  a  nation's  voice, 
A  monarch  ruling  by  the  people's  choice ; 
Where  nature's  rights  are  better  understood, 
And  power  employed  to  advance  the  public  good. 

Now  Britain  feels  the  soul  inspiring  flame, 
And  wakes,  resolved  her  dormant  rights  to  claim ; 
Demands  her  Commons  for  the  people's  own, 
A  barrier  'gainst  the  aristarchal  throne. 
Britain !  in  arts  as  well  as  arms  the  first ; 
The  home  in  which  our  ancestors  were  nursed ; 
What  generous  bosom  does  not  welcome  thee, 
Of  lands  afar  the  foremost  of  the  free  ! 

While  France  and  England  aid  the  people's  cause, 
And  advocate  the  reign  of  equal  laws, — 
Though  Russia  growl,  and  Holland's  monarch  frown, 
And  Pedro  strive  for  Lusitania's  crown, — 
Though  all  the  hosts  of  tyranny  assail, 
The  cause  of  truth  and  freedom  shall  prevail. 

And  though  the  torch  of  war  in  future  days 
Should  kindle  Europe  in  a  general  blaze  ; — 
Though  armies  to  the  battle-thunder  rush, 
And  legions  fall,  and  blood  in  torrents  gush ; 
Our  country,  like  a  rock,  shall  stand  unmoved, 
By  all  respected,  and  by  all  beloved. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  219 

For,  true  to  justice,  to  our  honor  true, 
To  every  nation  rendering  its  due, 
Unpledged,  impartial,  liberal  and  sincere, 
Who  shall  molest  ?  or  what  have  we  to  fear  ? 

Shall  hellish  discord  raise  his  fiery  crest, 
And  pour  his  venom  in  his  country's  breast  ? 
Shall  the  weak  limbs,  complaining  of  their  share, 
Refuse  the  body's  easy  load  to  bear  % 
Withhold  all  sustenance  till  strength  is  gone  1 
Then  find,  too  late,  their  strength  was  all  its  own  ! 
But  see,  with  justice  armed  and  clothed  in  might, 
The  hero  comes  to  enforce  his  country's  right ; 
Called  by  her  grateful  voice  to  guard  her  fate, 
To  take  the  helm  and  guide  the  ship  of  state, 
His  word  prophetic  makes  the  promise  sure, 
"  The  Union  must,  the  Union  shall  endure." 
And  now  with  reason's  clearest,  calmest  ray, 
He  comes  to  show  the  wanderers  their  way; 
By  mild  persuasion  strives  their  minds  to  draw, 
To  see  their  duty  and  obey  the  law ; 
Or  else  in  justice's  panoply  arrayed, 
He  marches  forth  to  draw  the  battle-blade 
To  arrest  their  course,  to  stay  disunion's  flood, 
And  quell  the  treason  at  the  price  of  blood. 

What  hosts  of  mortals  with  the  year  now  fled, 
Have  tenanted  the  chambers  of  the  dead  ! 
No  more  alone  'mid  Egypt's  catacombs 
Champollion,  seeking  hieroglyphics,  roams ; 
Nor  Cuvier  shall  nature's  depths  explore, 

Nor  Goethe  sing  with  swan-like  sweetness  more ; 

Nor  young  Napoleon,  emulous  of  fame, 
Make  princes  tremble  at  his  mighty  name  ! 


220  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

How  deeply  manhood  sleeps  beneath  the  sod, 
Which  yesterday  its  buoyant  footsteps  trod ! 
How  many  a  maiden,  clothed  in  beauty's  bloom, 
Lies  cold  and  voiceless  in  the  silent  tomb  ! 
For  lo !  with  venomed  wing  and  breath  of  flame, 
From  Eastern  climes  the  fell  destroyer  came : 
Fear  went  before  him,  messenger  of  wrath, 
Death  stalked  beside  him, — terror  marked  his  path  ;- 
Loaded  with  spoils  he  passed,  and  left  his  urn, — 
Grant  heaven,  in  mercy,  never  to  return  ! 

But  you,  dear  patrons,  have  escaped  his  fang, 
You  have  not  felt  for  friends  the  parting  pang ; 
You  have  enjoyed  the  luxury  of  health, 
Improved  in  knowledge  and  increased  in  wealth ; 
Your  thriving  village  stands,  by  all  confessed, 
Fairest  amid  the  fair  ones  of  the  West. 
Your  barns  and  granaries  are  filled  with  grain, 
Your  flocks  and  herds  enliven  all  the  plain  ; 
Your  children  smile  the  winter  hours  away ; 
And  their  improvement  crowns  the  well-spent  day. 

Then,  as  with  thankful  hearts  you  sit  beside 
Your  happy  hearth  at  sober  eventide, 
When  you  pour  forth  an  offering  of  praise 
To  Him  who  thus  with  plenty  crowns  your  days, 
While  bleak  winds  whistle  o'er  the  snow-clad  moor. 
Oh !  think  with  pity  on  the  helpless  poor  ; 
In  charity  extend  your  kind  relief, 
Prevent  their  suffering  and  soothe  their  grief. 

For  you,  fair  maidens,  brighter  than  the  morn, 
Whom  every  virtue,  every  grace  adorn, 
What  tribute  can  the  humble  news-boy  bring 
Worthy  to  be  a  N  ew  Year's  offering  1 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  221 

Would  new  year's  day  but  wait  for  April  flowers, 

He'd  twine  you  garlands  from  the  sweetest  bowers  ; 

Or  did  our  streams  Golconda's  diamonds  share, 

He'd  deck  the  wreaths  with  jewels  for  your  hair  ; 

Or  could  the  falling  stars  be  found  in  space, 

The  brightest  ones  should  fill  the  diamond's  place  ; 

Or  could  the  rainbow,  with  its  tints  so  varied, 

Be  folded  up  and  in  a  band-box  carried, 

He  certainly  would  send  for  one  express, 

To  make  you  all  a  handsome  new-year's  dress ; 

But  seeing  fate  has  otherwise  decreed, 

He  hopes  you'll  take  the  intention  for  the  deed  ; 

And  since  his  gift  to  wishes  is  confined, 

He  hopes  you'll  meet  with  husbands  to  your  mind  ; 

That  you,  young  gentlemen,  may  pass  your  lives, 

With  prudent,  loving,  amiable  wives ; — 

In  short,  he  wishes,  gentle  patrons  dear, 

Always,  to  all  of  you,  a  happy  year. 

Newport,  R.  I.,  Dec.  19,  1832. 


A   LOYEK'S  APPEAL. 

"  As  a  beam  on  the  face  of  the  waters  may  glow, 
While  the  tide  runs  in  darkness  and  coldness  below ; 
So  the  cheek  may  be  tinged  with  a  warm  sunny  smile, 
While  the  cold  heart  runs  darkly  to  ruin,  the  while." 

Moore. 

The  winter  moon  is  beaming 

From  her  clouded  throne  on  high, 

The  stars  are  dimly  gleaming 
From  the  borders  of  the  sky, 
19* 


222  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

While  wandering  on  the  lonely  beach, 

I  list  the  ocean's  roar, 
And  mark  the  crested  billows  reach 

The  far  extended  shore ; 
Or  watch  the  dim  discovered  sail 

Beyond  the  breaker's  foam, 
The  laden  ship  with  prosp'rous  gale, 

Advancing  to  her  home : — 
Joyful  as  she  the  land  espies, 

And  speeds  along  the  sea, 
So  joyfully  my  spirit  flies, 

To  seek  its  rest  with  thee. 

I  mingle  in  the  giddy  dance, 

Where  love  proclaims  its  power, 
And  gaze  on  beauty's  witching  glance, 

In  that  attractive  hour ; 
Soft  voices  warble  in  my  ear, 

W^hile  lovely  forms  are  nigh ; 
And  sunny  smiles  that  well  might  cheer 

And  win  the  coldest  eye  ; 
Yet,  when  I  mingle  with  the  bright, 

The  gay,  and  beauteous  throng, 
Thy  form  is  ever  in  my  sight, 

Thy  name  upon  my  tongue  : — 
My  listless  eyes  undazzled  rove, 

My  heart  is  fancy  free ; 
It  only  feels  the  throb  of  love, 

Whene'er  it  beats  for  thee. 

They  say  that  I  am  heartless, 
And  know  not  how  to  feel ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  223 

Because  I  would  be  artless, 

Yet  deepest  love  conceal ; 
I  cannot  talk  of  flames  and  darts, — 

Make  love  a  transient  theme, — 
Nor  trifle  with  deserving  hearts, 

That  claim  my  high  esteem. 
Their  noble  worth  each  passing  day 

In  brighter  lustre  shows, 
And  gladly  would  this  heart  repay 

The  gratitude  it  owes ; — 
But  though  mine  eye  returns  a  smile, 

When  others  smile  to  me, 
My  bosom  fondly  burns  the  while, 

With  constant  love  to  thee, 

Thy  cherished  image  charms  me  now, 

As  when  at  first  we  met ; 
And  that  warm  smile  upon  thy  brow, 

I  never  can  forget. 
It  mirrors  forth  thy  gentle  mind, 

Thy  feelings  pure  and  high, 
Within  the  loveliest  form  enshrined, 

That  blesses  human  eye. 
That  form  so  bright  and  beautiful, 

Seems  given  from  above  ; 
That  heart  so  warm  and  dutiful, 

Inspires  my  fervent  love ; 
And  nightly,  as  I  humbly  bend, 

To  heaven  the  willing  knee, 
I  pray  that  blessings  may  descend 

On  thine,  my  love,  and  thee. 


224  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Then  bid  me  not  depart  and  weep, 

In  solitude  and  gloom, 
O'er  cherished  hopes  and  feelings  deep, 

All  blighted  in  their  bloom  : 
Oh  !  leave  me  not  in  loneliness, 

Thy  coldness  to  deplore  ; 
Mourning  the  wreck  of  happiness, 

Thou  only  couldst  restore ; 
But  fix  my  fond  selection, 

And  make  me  wholly  thine ; 
Return  my  warm  affection, 

With  love  as  deep  as  mine ; — 
So  gently  shall  the  current  flow, 

Of  life's  uncertain  sea  ; 
And  constantly,  in  weal  or  woe, 

My  heart  shall  be  with  thee  ! 

Newport,  R.  I.,  Feb.,  1833. 


THE  SUN  HAS  SET. 

IMPROMPTU    IX    REMEMBRANCE    OF    A    SAILING    PARTY. 

The  sun  has  set,  the  sky  is  clear, 

The  breeze  is  gently  blowing ; 
The  light  waves  ripple  on  the  ear, 

The  boatmen  all  are  rowing  ; 
The  landscape  still  is  bright  and  fair  ; 

The  ocean  lies  before  us ; 
The  lighthouse  lamp,  and  evening  star 

Are  gently  beaming  o'er  us. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  225 

Anon  is  heard  the  evening  bell, 

For  day  departed,  tolling ; 
And  echo  bears  the  solemn  knell, 

Along  the  waters  rolling : 
And  vocal  music  sweet  and  soft, 

Is  on  the  surges  dancing ; 
In  mournful  strains  indulging  oft, 

And  oft  with  joy  advancing. 

And  yonder,  now  the  beacon's  blaze, 

On  distant  hill-top  burning, 
Illumes  the  water  with  its  rays, 

Like  light  of  day  returning ; 
While  bonny  boats  are  gliding  by, 

With  cheerful  kindred  voices, 
Whose  every  note  of  sympathy, 

The  willing  heart  rejoices. 

'Tis  just  the  hour  when  fancy  flies, 

As  fades  the  light  of  even, 
To  seek  a  dwelling  in  the  skies, — 

A  brighter  home  in  heaven. 
Oh !  who  would  change  a  scene  like  this, 

So  pensive  and  so  holy, 
For  transient  scenes  of  heartless  bliss, 

Or  thoughtless  hours  of  folly  ! 

Xewport,  R.  I.,  June  27,  1833. 


226  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE  PARTING. 


WRITTEN    OX    TAKING    LEAVE    OF    NEWPORT. 


The  twilight  sky  is  glowing, 

Across  the  summer  sea ; — 
The  balmy  breeze  is  blowing  ; 

But  its  breath  is  not  for  me  ;— 
For  when  the  morning  rises, 

While  others  greet  the  day, 
From  all,  this  spirit  prizes, 

Shall  I  have  passed  away. 

My  soul,  suppress  thy  sorrow ! 

My  wandering  heart,  be  still ! 
Thy  consolation  borrow 

From  thy  Maker's  holy  will ! 
Let  not  thy  footsteps  falter, 

'Mid  darkness  and  despair ; 
But  kneeling  at  his  altar, 

Seek  light  and  comfort  there. 

With  gratitude  and  meekness 

Address  the  heavenly  throne, 
Acknowledging  thy  weakness, 

Trusting  in  God  alone ; — 
Thy  sins  and  faults  confessing, 

Implore  his  pardoning  grace, 
And  ask  the  Saviour's  blessing, 

On  all  thy  fallen  race. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  227 

Pray  for  the  carnal  minded, 

That  thirst  for  fame  and  gold ; 
The  spiritually  blinded, 

The  thoughtless  and  the  cold ; 
Pray  for  the  sad  and  sighing, 

That  Heaven  may  soothe  their  woes, 
Pray  that  the  sick  and  dying 

From  thence  may  find  repose. 

Pray  for  the  friends  thou  lovest, 

For  all  thou  holdest  dear, 
Though  far  from  them  thou  rovest 

While  fresh  the  parting  tear  ; 
That  whether  joy  or  mourning, 

Through  life  may  be  their  doom, 
Their  lamps,  all  trimmed  and  burning, 

May  shine  beyond  the  tomb. 

Friends  of  my  choice,  we  sever ! 

But  though  sorrow  dimmed  its  fire ; 
Within  this  bosom  never 

Shall  friendship's  flame  expire ! — 
Ye  venerable  towers, 

Fast  fading  from  my  view ; 
Ye  island-vales  and  bowers, — 

Home  of  my  heart — adieu  ! 


Boston,  Mass.,  July  24,  1838. 


228  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

LUTZOW'S  WILD  CHASE. 

FROM    THE    GERMAN    OF    KORNER. 

This  name  was  given,  during  the  war  of  1813  and  1814,  to  a 
Prussian  corps  of  volunteers,  commanded  by  Major  Liitzow,  and 
composed  of  young  gentlemen  of  the  highest  talents  and  patriot- 
ism. The  poet  Korner  was  a  member  of  this  corps,  and  has  cel- 
ebrated it  in  this  song,  which  is  to  the  Germans  what  the  Mar- 
seilles Hymn  is  to  the  French,  or  Hail  Columbia  to  the  patriot  of 
America. 

What  gleams  from  yon  wood  in  the  splendor  of  day  ? 

Hark  !  hear  its  wild  din  rushing  nearer  ! 
It  hither  approaches  in  gloomy  array, 
While  loud  sounding  horns  peal  their  blast  on  its  way, 

The  soul  overwhelming  with  terror  ! 
Those  swart  companions  you  view  in  the  race, — 
Those  are  Liitzow's  roving,  wild,  venturous  chase ! 

What  swiftly  moves  on  through  yon  dark  forest  glade, 

From  mountain  to  mountain  deploying  1 
They  place  themselves  nightly  in  ambuscade, 
They  shout  the  hurrah,  and  they  draw  the  keen  blade, 

The  French  usurpers  destroying  ! 
Those  swart  Yagers  bounding  from  place  to  place, — 
Those  are  Liitzow's  roving,  wild,  venturous  chase  ! 

Where,  midst  glowing  vines,  as  the  Rhine  murmurs  by, 

The  tyrant  securely  is  sleeping ; — 
They  swiftly  approach,  'neath  the  storm-glaring  sky 
With  vigorous  arms  o'er  the  waters  they  ply ; 

Soon  safe  on  his  island-shore  leaping ! 
Those  swarthy  swimmers  whose  wake  you  trace, 
Those  are  Liitzow's  roving,  wild,  venturous  chase  ! 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  229 

Why  sweeps  from  yon  valley  the  battle's  loud  roar, 
Where  swords  in  thick  carnage  are  clashing  1 

Fierce  horsemen  encounter,  'mid  lightnings  and  gore ; 

The  spark  of  true  freedom  is  kindled  once  more, 
From  war's  bloody  altars  out-flashing  ! 

Those  horsemen  swart  who  the  combat  face, 

Those  are  Liitzow's  roving,  wild,  venturous  chase ! 

Who  smile  their  adieu  to  the  light  of  the  sun, 

'Mid  fallen  foes  moaning  their  bravery  % 
Death  creeps  o'er  their  visage, — their  labors  are  done  ; — 
Their  valiant  hearts  tremble  not; — victory's  won; 

Their  fatherland  rescued  from  slavery  ! 
Those  swart  warriors  fallen  in  death's  embrace, 
Those  were  Liitzow's  roving,  wild,  venturous  chase ! 

The  wild  German  Yagers, — their  glorious  careers 

Dealt  death  to  the  tyrant  oppressor  ! 
Then  weep  not,  dear  friends,  for  the  true  volunteers, 
When  the  morn  of  our  fatherland's  freedom  appears ; 

Since  we  alone  died  to  redress  her. 
Our  mem'ry  transmitted,  no  time  shall  erase : — 
"  Those  were  Liitzow's  roving,  wild,  venturous  chase  !" 

George's  I.,  Boston  Harbor,  Nov.  23,  1833. 


ANOTHEK  EXIGMA. 

Could  the  fair  forms  delineated  on  canvas  or  ivory  but  smile, 
or  speak,  how  life-like  they  would  seem! 

"  Je  suis  enfant  de  l'art,  aussi  de  la  nature, 
Le  plus  vrai  que  je  suis,  je  suis  plus  imposture, 
20 


230  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Quoique  de  longues  annees  ne  peuvent  me  fletrir, 
Je  deviens  trop  jeune,  a  force  de  vieillir  ; 
Souvenir  du  temps  passe,  je  le  fais  oublier, 
Et  souvent,  quoique  present,  je  suis  trop  eloigne." 

TRANSLATION. 

Nature  my  model  of  beauty  afforded, — 

Art  the  bright  model  in  beauty  recorded. 

I  cherish  the  traits  that  fond  fancy  did  weave  you, 

Though  the  more  I  am  faithful,  the  more  I  deceive  you. 

Time  does  not  wither  nor  render  me  colder  ; 

I  only  grow  too  young  as  I  become  older. 

The  past  I  recall  but  to  cause  it  to  vanish, 

And  soon  will  my  presence  all  thoughts  of  me  banish. 

Boston,  Mass.,  Feb.,  1834. 


CONSOLATION. 

TO   A    FRIEND    BEREAVED   OF  HIS   WIFE. 

Weep  not  for  her,  who,  like  the  day, 
When  sunset  gilds  the  tranquil  scene, 

With  lingering  radiance  passed  away — 
In  cheerful  hope  and  joy  serene. 

Another  day  the  sun  will  greet, 

And  friends  so  dear  again  shall  meet. 

Weep  not  for  her,  who  meekly  led 
A  life  of  piety  and  love, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  231 

Whose  unassuming  virtue  shed 

A  hallowed  influence  from  above. 
The  fallen  dew-drop  needs  must  dry, 
Exhaled  into  its  native  sky. 

Weep  not  for  her,  who  now  at  rest 
Where  care  and  pain  no  more  annoy, 

Has  reached  the  haven  of  the  blest, 
And  realized  immortal  joy. 

Her  spirit  smiles  from  that  bright  shore, 

And  softly  whispers,  "  Weep  no  more !" 

Fort  Warren,  Boston  Harbor,  June  23,  1835. 


BAGATELLE. 

IN  REMEMBBANCE  OF  A  SAILING  PAETY,  WHICH  WAS  INTEBBUPTED  AND 
DELAYED  BY  A  SUDDEN  STOBM,  AND  BY  THE  BREAKING  OF  A  CAR- 
RIAGE. 

You  ask  me,  lady,  for  a  lay 

Of  accident  and  trial ; 
And  lady's  wish,  the  poets  say, 

Should  never  meet  denial. 
But  hard  the  task  which  thus  you  ask, 

To  be  the  sad  recorder 
Of  woes  that  mount,  in  long  account, 

To  "  seventhly''''  in  order. 

yEneas  ne'er  had  woes  like  these, 
Nor  suffered  half  so  badly, 


232  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Although  he  braved  the  stormy  seas, 

And  though  they  used  him  sadly. 
True,  he  escaped  from  Troy's  attack, 

Through  flames  that  sorely  tried  him, 
And  took  his  father  on  his  back, 

His  wife  and  child  beside  him. 
His  sorrows  in  their  fiery  course, 

He  bore  without  complaining ; 
But  ours  were  from  a  higher  source, 

Occasioned  by  its  raining. 
It  is  enough  to  make  one  weep, — 

Prepared  to  take  a  sail  thus, 
To  see  a  squall  come  o'er  the  deep, 

With  wind,  and  rain,  and  hail,  thus  ! 
But  'tis  a  great  deal  worse  than  this, 

The  wind  and  rain  abating ; 
When  just  in  view  of  fancied  bliss, 

Still  to  be  kept  in  waiting ! 
Alas  !  how  bitter  is  the  pain, 

When  plans  are  thus  concerted, 
To  wait  for  friends  so  long  in  vain, 

And  then  to  be  deserted. 

./Eneas  fled  from  home  at  night, 

While  Troy  was  redly  glaring ; 
And  reached  the  shore  by  that  dread  light, 

Depressed  but  not  despairing. 
He  launched  upon  the  lurid  wave ; — 

Celestial  wrath  pursuing ; 
While  Juno,  with  resentment  grave, 

Was  bent  on  his  undoing. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  233 

Then  ./Eolus  sent  forth  his  blast, 

By  fiercest  fury  quickened ; 
And  wild,  and  wide,  and  far,  and  fast, 

The  storm  around  him  thickened  : 
Black  night  came  brooding  o'er  the  main, 

Sky,  ship,  and  sea  confounding ; 
The  thunder's  crash,  the  lightning's  chain, 

And  yawning  gulfs  surrounding. 
See,  on  the  foaming  billow  borne, 

Yon  bark,  dismasted,  flying  ! 
The  shrouds  all  snapped,  the  sails  all  torn, 

And  spars  around  it  lying ! 
/Eneas  even,  wrecked  and  tossed, 

The  sport  of  every  danger, 
Exhausted,  on  an  unknown  coast 

Beholds  himself  a  stranger. 

But  here  the  parallel  must  fail ; 

For  fate  at  least  befriended, 
And  we  had  quite  a  pleasant  sail, 

After  the  storm  was  ended. 
And,  lady,  as  time's  rapid  wing 

The  voyage  of  life  shall  measure, 
Wilt  thou  one  fond  remembrance  fling 

On  that  brief  voyage  of  pleasure  1 

Fort  "Warrex,  Mass.,  Aug.  6,  1835. 


234  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE  APOLOGY. 

TO   A   LADY,  ON   BEING    PREVENTED    FROM    ATTENDING    HER    BIRTH-NIGHT 
BALL. 

"  Et  moriens,  dulces  reiuiniscitur  Argos." 
Virgil. 

Lady,  since  Fate's  austere  behest 
Forbids  thy  friend  to  be  thy  guest, 
To  mingle  with  the  festal  throng, 
Or  twine  the  dance,  or  list  the  song ; 
This  note,  vicarious,  presents 
An  absentee's  kind  compliments, 
And  tenders  thee  a  simple  lay, 
In  honor  of  thy  natal  day. 

Thy  halls,  this  eve,  are  glittering  bright ; 
Thy  heart  is  throbbing  with  delight. 
The  young,  the  gay,  the  fond,  and  fair, 
In  buoyant  hope  assembled  there, 
With  many  a  cheerful  word  and  smile, 
Thy  swift-winged  vesper  hours  beguile, 
And  gather  round,  in  rich  array, 
To  greet  thee  on  thy  natal  day. 

I  may  not  speak  the  greeting  word, 
My  voice  with  theirs  may  not  be  heard  ; 
I  may  not  watch  thy  sparkling  eye, 
Nor  drink  thy  murmuring  melody ; 
But  none  could  greet  thee,  more  sincere, 
And  none  will  prize  thy  worth  more  dear, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  235 

Of  all  who  anxious  strive  to  pay 
Their  tribute  to  thy  natal  day. 

A  sterner  lot  is  mine  to  bear, — 
Not  sad,  nor  yet  devoid  of  care. 
Prompted,  adventurous,  to  roam, 
Leaving  dear  kindred,  and  sweet  home, 
Another  land  these  feet  may  tread, 
A  milder  sky  be  o'er  me  spread, 
And  duty  call  me  far  away, 
Ere  shall  return  thy  natal  day. 

But  each  revolving  year  will  bring 
Long  time  to  thee  a  brighter  spring  ; 
Nor  winter  chill  thy  blooming  powers, 
Nursed  in  affection's  fondest  bowers, 
Till  summer  shall  mature  the  mind, 
Thus  early  cultured  and  refined, 
And  intellectual  fruits  display, 
Each  autumn,  with  thy  natal  day, 

I  would  not  ape  the  Laureate's  task, 
I  may  not  wear  the  flatterer's  mask ; 
But,  gentle  lady,  may'st  thou  live 
Long  in  all  bliss  that  earth  can  give, 
Till  soft  as  fades  life's  twilight  even, 
Regenerate,  thou  smile — in  heaven. 
Thus  ever  will  the  minstrel  pray 
For  blessings  on  thy  natal  day. 

Fort  Warren,  Mass.,  Sept.,  30,  1835. 


23G  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE  MAKSEILLES   HYMN. 

This  sublime  appeal  to  patriotism  is  said  to  have  been  com- 
posed in  one  night,  together  with  the  music,  by  M.  Joseph 
Eouget  de  L'Isle,  while  an  officer  of  the  engineer  corps  at  Stras- 
burg,  early  in  the  French  Revolution.  It  was  originally  called 
L'Offrande  a  la  Liberte,  but  subsequently  received  its  pres- 
ent name,  because  it  was  first  publicly  sung  by  the  Marseilles 
confederates  in  1792.  (See  article  Marsellaise  Hymn ;  Enc.  Am.) 
The  object  of  the  following  translation  was  to  give,  as  nearly  as 
possible,  a  literal  version  of  the  original. 

Sons  of  your  country,  on  to  her  aid  ! 

The  day  of  glory  now  appears ; 
Lo  !  Tyranny  'gainst  you  arrayed, 

His  blood-dripping  standard  uprears ! 
See  your  fields  teem  with  war's  dread  alarms ; 

Hear  the  soldiers'  boisterous  roar  ! 
They  venture  even  to  your  arms, 

Your  sons  and  your  wives  to  engore. 
To  arms  !  to  arms,  ye  brave  ! 
Your  marshalled  banners  wave  ! 
March  on  !  march  on !  their  blood  impure 
Our  battle-field  shall  lave  ! 

What  would  with  us  the  slavish  horde, 
Of  traitors  leagued,  and  kings  combined  ? 

Their  chains  and  their  manacles  stored — 
For  whom  are  these  fetters  designed  1 

Frenchmen,  for  us  this  deep  disgrace ! 

What  transports  in  our  hearts  should  burn ! 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  237 

'Tis  we  whom  thus  they  dare  menace 
To  ancient  slavery  to  return  ! 
To  arms  !  etc. 

See  cohorts  vile,  from  foreign  lands, 

Seek  to  rule,  unswayed,  our  realm  ; 
And  the  phalanx  of  hireling  bands 

Would  our  warriors  fierce  overwhelm  ! 
Mighty  God  !  this  manacled  crew 

Our  necks  beneath  the  yoke  would  bend  ! 
On  hateful  despots  then  anew 

Our  lives  and  fortunes  would  depend ! 
To  arms  !  etc. 

Tyrants,  beware  !  and  ye  false  clans, 

Whom  opprobrious  all  regard  ; 
Be  aware  that  your  parricide  plans 

Shall  at  length  undergo  their  reward  ! 
All  are  soldiers  against  you  to  fight ; 

And  if  our  young  heroes  should  be  slain, 
New  forces  France  would  soon  unite, 

In  battle  to  engage  again. 

To  arms  !  etc. 

Frenchmen,  magnanimous,  forbear, 

Circumspectly'  deal  your  blows  ; 
Those  unhappy  victims  spare, 

Who  became  your  unwilling  foes. 
But  yon  bloody  despot  force, — 

On  them  the  heaviest  wrath  descend  * 


*  To  avoid  an  unnecessary  and  perhaps  too  severe  personality  this  line  is 
changed  from  the  original,  but  still  retains  its  spirit. 


238  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Those  tigers  who  without  remorse, 
The  bosom  of  their  mother  rend. 
To  arms !  etc. 

Love  of  our  country,  sacred  flame, 

Our  avenging  arms  protect ! 
Oh  Liberty  !  long  cherished  name, 

Thy  defenders  aid  and  direct ! 
Our  ensigns  for  battle  unrolled, 

At  thy  call  may  Victory  crown  ; 
Till  dying  enemies  behold 

Thy  triumph  and  thy  sons'  renown ! 
To  arms  !  to  arms,  ye  brave  ! 
Your  marshalled  banners  wave ! 
March  on  !  march  on  !  their  blood  impure 
Our  battle-field  shall  lave  ! 

Boston,  Mass.,  Jan.  23,  1836. 


CANZONET. 

"  I  fill  this  cup  to  one  made  up 

Of  loveliness  alone; 
A  woman,  of  her  gentle  sex 

The  seeming  paragon  ; 
To  whom  the  better  elements, 

And  kinder  stars  have  given 
A  form  so  fair  that,  like  the  air, 

'Tis  less  of  earth  than  heaven." 

E.  C.    PlNKNEY. 

Dearest  and  brightest, 
My  visions  of  thee 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Are  the  purest  and  lightest, 
That  fond  dreams  can  be ; 

And  the  spirit  that  hovers, 
From  purity's  shrine, 

To  watch  o'er  thy  lover's — 
That  spirit  is  thine. 

I  met  thee  all  smiling, 

Where  beauty's  gay  throng 
Fleet  hours  were  beguiling, 

With  dances  and  song  : 
I  met  thee  as  never 

New  meetings  can  be, 
To  love  thee  forever, 

And  live  but  for  thee. 

I  saw  thee  attended 

By  proud  ones  and  gay, 
The  wealthy,  and  splendid, 

Their  homage  to  pay  : 
But  though  they  have  striven 

Thy  chosen  to  be, 
Thou  freely  hast  given 

Thine  own  love  to  me. 

That  love  is  my  treasure ; 

And  oh,  I  resign 
All  else  for  the  pleasure 

Of  calling  thee  mine  ; 
Through  joy  and  through  sorrow  ; 

Or  grief's  brighter  day. 
Or  hope's  bitter  morrow, 

Mine  own,  and  for  aye ! 


239 


240  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

And  are  not  my  feelings 

All  fondly  thine  own  ? 
Thought's  deepest  revealings, 

Affection's  low  tone  ? 
The  vows,  truly  plighted, 

Shall  never  decay, 
Of  hearts  thus  united, 

Forever  and  aye  ! 

Boston,  Mass,  April,  1836. 


I   THINK   OF   THEE. 

WRITTEN    AS    A    RESPONSE   TO    THE    SONG, 
"  Pensez  a  moi,  mon  cher  ami." 

From  my  richest  treasure  torn, 
On  the  raging  billows  borne, 
'Mid  the  dangers  of  the  sen, 
Dearest,  still  I  think  of  thee ! 

In  the  city's  crowded  street, 
Ever  filled  with  busy  feet, 
Clang  of  cars,  and  tones  of  glee, 
Dearest,  still  I  think  of  thee ! 

Roving  wild  'mid  rural  bowers, 
Songs  of  birds,  and  breath  of  flowers, 
On  the  hill,  or  on  the  lea, 
Dearest,  still  1  think  of  thee ! 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

When,  at  sabbath,  I  repair 
To  the  holy  house  of  prayer, 
While  to  Heaven  I  bend  the  knee, 
Dearest,  still  I  think  of  thee  ! 

When  the  morning  wakes  the  earth 
With  its  cheerfulness  and  mirth, 
Though  the  morn  is  bright  to  me, 
Dearest,  still  I  think  of  thee ! 

When  the  night,  to  wearied  eyes, 
Veils  the  earth,  and  gems  the  skies, 
Then  from  care  and  labor  free, 
Dearest,  still  I  think  of  thee ! 

Lewes,  Delaware,  July,  1836. 


241 


THE   COMMUNION. 

"  Why  was  I  made  to  hear  thy  voice, 

And  enter  while  there's  room, 
While  thousands  make  a  wretched  choice 

And  rather  starve  than  come?" 

Watts. 

While  the  sons  of  earth,  retiring, 
From  the  sacred  temple  roam ; 

Lord,  thy  light  and  love  desiring, 
To  thine  altar  fain  we  come. 

Children  of  a  Heavenly  Father, 
Friends  and  brethren  would  we  be 


21 


242  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

While  we  round  thy  table  gather, 
May  our  hearts  be  one  in  thee. 

Jesus  spreads  his  banner  o'er  us, 

Cheers  our  famished  souls  with  food 
He  the  banquet  spreads  before  us 

Of  his  mystic  flesh  and  blood. 
Precious  banquet !  bread  of  heaven ! 

Wine  of  gladness  flowing  free  ! 
May  we  taste  it,  kindly  given, 

In  remembrance,  Lord,  of  thee. 

In  thy  holy  Incarnation, 

When  the  angels  sung  thy  birth, 
In  thy  fasting  and  temptation, 

In  thy  labors  on  the  earth  ; 
In  thy  trial  and  rejection, 

In  thy  sufferings  on  the  tree, — 
In  thy  glorious  resurrection, 

May  we,  Lord,  remember  thee ! 

All  thy  love  and  mercy  feeling, 

All  our  weakness  would  we  feel ; 
Humbly  at  thine  altar  kneeling, 

For  thy  pardon  we  would  kneel. 
All  our  passions  sacrificing, 

As  thy  sacrifice  we  see, 
May  we,  from  thine  altar  rising, 

Consecrate  our  lives  to  thee. 

By  thy  Holy  Spirit  leading, 
Gently  draw  us  on  the  road  ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  243 

By  thy  boundless  merit  pleading, 

Reconcile  us  to  our  God. 
Tossed  on  life's  eventful  ocean, 

Changing  though  our  life  may  be, — 
When  its  billows  cease  their  motion, 

May  we  find  our  rest  in  thee ! 

When  the  heavens  shall  be  shaken, 

As  thou  comes t  from  on  high ; 
When  the  dead  from  death  awaken, 

To  attend  thee  in  the  sky ; 
When  the  mighty  seals  are  broken, 

And  the  mountains,  trembling,  flee, 
When  the  final  doom  is  spoken, 

May  we  refuge  find  in  thee  ! 

Philadelphia,  Poor.,  Oct.  16,  1836. 


EPITHALAMIITM. 

"  I  saw  two  clouds  at  morning, 
Tinged  by  the  rising  sun, 
And  in  the  dawn  they  floated  on, 

And  mingled  into  one. 
I  thought  that  morning  cloud  was  blest, 
It  moved  so  gently  to  the  west." 

Braixard. 

And  so,  dear  lady,  Cupid's  dart 

Has  pierced,  at  length,  a  manly  heart 

Of  winning  virtue ; 
And  then  it  seems,  with  wily  craft, 
The  blind  boy  sent  another  shaft, 


244  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Too  keen  to  hurt  you  ; 
And  thus,  with  silken  net,  enraptured, 
Coy  game,  choice  game,  the  god  has  captured. 

And  Hymen  soon  will  light  his  torch, 
Beneath  the  amaranthine  porch 

Where  vows  are  plighted ; 
And  there,  before  the  holy  shrine, 
The  rose  shall  with  the  laurel  twine, 

For  aye  united, 
While  dearest  friends,  around  thee  pressiug, 
Will  all  pronounce  the  nuptial  blessing. 

'Tis  good  to  view  the  glorious  sight, 
When  lofty  twin-born  souls  unite, 

Before  the  altar, 
To  link  their  fates,  for  mutual  aid, 
Nor  ever,  'mid  life's  storm  or  shade, 

To  swerve  or  falter, 
Repelling  cares,  surmounting  sorrows, 
By  love  that  lends  the  light  it  borrows. 

It  is  not  well  on  life's  wide  sea, 
A  lonely  voyager  to  be, 

With  storms  to  wrestle  ; 
But  better  far,  ere  yet  too  late, 
To  sail  in  company,  as  mate 

Of  larger  vessel, 
Whose  lofty  trim  and  gallant  bearing, 
May  make  its  colors  worth  the  wearing. 

This  voyage  of  life  we  all  must  make ; 
And  they  who  one  kind  partner  take, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  245 

To  share  its  dangers, 
Are  happier, — if  I  may  judge, — 
Than  those  who  coldly,  or  in  grudge, 

Sail  on  as  strangers, 
Unfit  to  give  or  gain  assistance, 
By  wandering  out  of  speaking  distance. 

And,  lady  dear,  may  this,  thy  choice, 
Sanctioned  by  hope  and  reason's  voice, 

By  earth  and  heaven, 
Be  blest,  through  each  revolving  year 
With  bliss  unblighted,  love  sincere, 

Till  life's  last  even, 
When  thoughts  of  love,  and  its  bereavement, 
Shall  be  the  sole  and  last  aggrievement. 


*&&* 


May  each  the  other's  burden  bear, 
Thus  lightening  every  earth-born  care  ; 

Thy  home  the  centre 
Of  every  good  the  heart  can  claim, 
And  each  fond  tie  the  tongue  can  name, 

Till  thou  shalt  enter 
Where  bliss  eternal  opes  its  portals, 
To  welcome  heaven's  blest  immortals. 

Philadelphia,  Penx.,  Dec,  1837. 
21* 


246  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


TO  MY  FIRST  BOEK 

"  And  say  thou  wouldst  rather 
They'd  watch  o'er  thy  father  ; 
For  I  know  that  the  angels  are  whispering  to  thee." 

My  daughter  !  how  shall  words  express 

The  thrill  this  bosom  knew, 
When  thou  wert  given  from  heaven  to  bless 

Thy  longing  parents'  view  ; 
When  first  upon  thy  face  I  gazed, 

And  heard  thy  feeble  tone ; 
When  first  to  me  thine  eyes  were  raised, 

My  beautiful,  my  own. 

It  was  an  overwhelming  sense, 

That  o'er  my  being  stole, 
Of  anxious  hope,  of  joy  intense, 

And  love  that  spurned  control. 
The  throbbing  gush  of  feeling  rose, 

Impetuous  in  its  course  ; 
And  still  the  sacred  current  flows 

With  calm,  but  steady  force. 

I  love  thee  for  thy  mother's  sake ; 

Herself  now  doubly  dear ; 
To  whom  the  fleeting  moments  make 

Thy  likeness  yet  more  clear  : 
I  love  thee  for  thy  helplessness, 

Thine  innocence  from  guile  ; 
Thy  beauty  and  thy  gentleness, 

Thy  winning  look  and  smile. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  247 

Awake,  thy  watchful  eyes  display 

The  opening  germs  of  thought, 
As  each  new  object  they  survey 

With  curious  study  fraught : 
Asleep,  thou  seem'st,  in  quiet  dream, 

Such  visions  bright  to  see, 
That  well,  the  angels,  might  we  deem, 

Are  whispering  to  thee. 

The  rose,  just  budding  on  its  stem, 

When  spring  renews  its  form ; 
The  rainbow's  nascent  diadem, 

Above  the  cloud  and  storm  ; 
The  morning  light  from  east  to  west, 

O'er  hill,  and  tower,  and  tree ; 
The  young  bird,  in  its  downy  nest, — 

They  all  are  types  of  thee. 

Then  nestle  in  thy  mother's  arms, — 

My  beautiful  and  bright, — 
Till  time  hath  well  matured  thy  charms, 

And  fledged  thy  wings  for  flight. 
Heaven  spare  thee  long,  to  bless  our  love, 

Till  called  at  last,  on  high, 
Thou  spread  thy  pinions,  soar  above, 

And  seek  thy  native  sky. 

Philadelphia,  Pexn.,  March,  1839. 


248  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE  MISSION  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

"  Go  ye,  therefore,  and  teach  all  nations,  baptizing  them  in 
the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
teaching  them  to  observe  all  things  whatsoever  I  have  com- 
manded you ;  and,  lo,  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end 
of  the  world.     Amen." — St.  Matthew,  xxviii.  19,  20. 


The  mighty  mandate  has  gone  forth, 

The  eternal  fiat  has  been  spoken : 
The  heavy  chain  that  bound  the  earth, 

Of  sin  and  slavery,  is  broken. 
The  Son  of  God,  the  Eternal  Word, 

Whose  word  upholds  the  vast  creation, 
Still  by  the  sons  of  men  is  heard, 

Charging  the  heralds  of  salvation  : 
"  Go  ye  forth,  my  chosen  band, 
Messengers  to  every  land  ; 
Go,  and  all  the  nations  teach, 
Everywhere  repentance  preach, 
Peace  and  pardon  from  above, 
Mercy,  and  redeeming  love. 
Who  the  tidings  will  receive, 
And  with  willing  heart  believe, 
Them  baptize  ye  in  the  name, 

Of  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost. 
Fear  ye  nothing,  flood  nor  flame, 

Fear  not  Satan's  raging  host : 
Still  in  me  ye  have  a  friend, 
I  am  with  you  to  the  end. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  249 

II. 

Thus  spake  the  incarnate  Son, 

Good  news  to  sinful  men ; 
As  now,  the  task  of  mercy  done, 

He  rose  to  heaven  again. 
The  apostles,  at  his  feet, 

In  rapt  attention  hear ; 
Gladly  the  great  commission  greet 

The  welcome  burden  bear ; 
Beholding,  with  astonished  eyes, 
Their  Lord  ascending  to  the  skies. 

in. 

Who  are  those  venerable  men, 

With  furrowed  brows  of  thought ; 
With  looks  of  more  than  human  ken, 

Or  human  kindness  fraught  ? 
Pilgrims  and  wanderers  they  seem, 
Engrossed  with  some  absorbing  theme. 
From  land  to  land  their  way  they  speed, 

Nor  wait  the  rising  sun  ; 
Nor  storms,  nor  adverse  seasons  heed, 

Nor  deem  their  labor  done, 
Though  darkness,  with  its  shadows  grey, 
O'ertake  them  on  their  weary  way. 
With  ceaseless  toil,  and  anxious  care, 
Some  message  wonderful  they  bear  ; 
And  faithfully,  with  matchless  skill, 
Their  constant  errand  they  fulfil, 
With  burning  zeal,  and  words  of  might, 
With  lifted  hand,  and  visage  bright, 


250  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Impressing  all,  and  winning  some,  with  eloquence  sub- 
lime ; — 

Who  are  those  lonely  travellers,  in  many  a  cheerless 
clime  1 

IV. 

They  are  the  heralds  of  the  cross, 
Who  bear  the  gospel's  greeting ; 

Who  count  the  world  itself  but  loss, 

Its  riches  worthless  as  the  dross, 
Its  honors  vain  and  fleeting ; 

So  God  may  grant  them  power  to  win 

Immortal  souls  from  death  and  sin. 
For  this,  they  yield  the  tender  ties 
Which  bind  all  human  sympathies  : 
For  this  they  leave  their  friends  and  home, 
In  earth's  remotest  lands  to  roam  ; 
Braving  alike,  in  going  forth, 
The  scorching  south  and  freezing  north ; 
Now  wandering  over  mounts  of  snow, 
Now  'mid  the  desert's  burning  glow  ; 
Then  rocking  on  the  ocean  wave, 
In  danger  of  a  watery  grave  ; 
In  perils  both  by  sea  and  land, 
By  pagan  rage  and  ruffian  hand ; 
They  toil,  they  bleed,  and  suffer,  but  unceasingly  proclaim 
Salvation  to  their  persecutors,  thus,  in  Jesus'  name. 


"Turn,  superstitious  worshippers,  who   bow   to   wood 

and  stone, 
Yet  build  a  nameless  altar,  and  confess  a  God  unknown. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  251 

That  God,  enthroned  in  majesty,  above  all  human  view, 
But  worshipped  now  in  ignorance  declare  we  unto  you. 
God  taketh  not  the  form  of  idols  graved  by  human  art ; 
He  dwelleth  not  in  temples,  save  the  temple  of  the  heart ! 
His  word  evoked  the  universe,  and  formed  the  cherubim  ; 
Then  what  are  man's  devices,  in  comparison  with  Him ! 
Yet  we  are  all  His  offspring, — with  his  image  are  im- 
pressed ; 
And  by  a  power  divine  His  laws  are  stamped  upon  our 

breast ; 
Our  conscience  bearing  witness,  as  your  altars  testify, 
That  guilt  needs  expiation,  or  the  soul  that  sins  must  die, 
But  holocaust  and  hecatomb,  on  thousand  altars  slain, 
Can  ne'er  avert  the  sinner's  doom,  nor  take  away  his  stain ; 
Justice  unsatisfied  remains,  still  thundering  from  the  sky, 
Though  incense  rise  from  thousand  fanes,  the  soul  that 
sins  must  die. 


How  wondrous,  then,  the  love 

Which  God  to  us  hath  shown  ; 
Who  senf  His  Son  from  realms  above, 
To  make  His  goodness  known ! 
Resigning  his  celestial  power,  incarnate  here  to  dwell ; 
In  sorrow  and  temptation,  to  resist  the  host  of  hell ; 
All  our  human  frailties  sharing, 
All  our  burdens  meekly  bearing ; 
.  Sins  forgiviug,  sickness  healing, 
Precepts  pure  of  life  revealing ; 
Till,  into  impious  hands  betrayed,  and  crucified  and  slain, 
He  rose,  triumphant  over  death,  at  God's  right  hand  to 
reign ! 


252  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

For  us  that  sacrifice  was  made, 
For  us  that  wondrous  love  displayed. 
For  our  redemption  Jesus  bled ; 
Then  rose  to  heaven,  our  glorious  Head. 
And  will  ye  then  reject  his  love, — his  pardoning  grace 

refuse  % 
And  will  ye  still  go  on  in  sin  ?— his  mercy  still  abuse  ? 
Beware,  ye  vain  despisers,  lest  on  you  his  wrath  be 

hurled, 
When  coming  in  the  clouds  of  heaven,  his  word  shall 

judge  the  world ! 
Believe,  repent,  and  be  baptized,  in  token  of  his  grace ; 
Then  joyfully,  in  that  dread  hour,  behold  your  Saviour's 
face." 

VII. 

Thus  the  men  whom  Jesus  sent 
Preached  the  gospel  as  they  went. 
Steadfast,  in  their  high  resolves, 
Meek  as  lambs  'mid  ravening  wolves ; 
Seized  and  scourged,  reviled  and  scoffed, 
Oft  in  chains, — in  prison  oft ; 
Even  with  tortures  piecemeal  torn, 
Still  their  pangs  were  meekly  borne ; 
Or  by  raging  flames  devoured, 
Grace  their  dying  pangs  o'erpowered ; 
Freely  they  endured  the  shame. 
Glorying  in  Jesus'  name. 
Through  their  faith  their  doctrines  flourished ; 
By  their  blood  the  Church  was  nourished  ; 

On  other  Christian  teachers  the  apostles'  mantles  fell ; 

The  martyr  spirit  triumphed  over  all  the  host  of  hell; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  253 

While  conquering,  and  yet  to  conquer,  through  their 
mighty  Head, 

The  Saviour's  glorious  missions  o'er  the  earth  his  gos- 
pel spread. 

Grim  Baal  heard  the  tidings,  and  his  altars  ceased  to 
blaze ; 

No  more  on  great  Diana  did  the  rapt  Ephesians  gaze ; 

Forsaken  were  the  temples  of  the  famed  Olympian  Jove ; 

The  oracles  were  silenced  of  Apollo  in  the  grove ; 

Osiris,  'mid  his  massive  columns,  trembled  at  the  sound  ; 

And  idol  gods  innumerable  crumbled  on  the  ground. 

One  Lord,  one  faith,  one  baptism,  prevails  o'er  all  the 
world ; 

And  above  the  Roman  Eagle  is  the  bannered  Cross  un- 
furled. 

VIII. 

Wondrous  are  the  ways, — 

Past  our  penetration, — 
Which  the  omniscient  God  displays 
In  each  varying  form  and  phase, 

Of  the  vast  creation. 
Nature  has  its  times  and  tides, 

All  its  orbs  controlling  ; 
Now  it  swells,  and  now  subsides, 

Raging  still  and  rolling  ; 
Till  the  heaven-appointed  hour, 

When  its  strife  shall  cease ; 
When  the  Almighty  sovereign  power, 

Wisely  ordering  all  events, 

Shall  bring  the  jarring  elements 
To  harmony  and  peace. 
22 


254  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

IX. 

Man  is  also  born  to  change ; 

Weak,  alas !  and  failing ; 
While  the  tides  of  passion  range, 

O'er  the  heart  prevailing. 
Now  to  heaven  his  soul  aspires ; 

Faith  his  flight  attending  ; 
Now  it  yields  to  base  desires, 

Back  to  earth  descending ; 
And  vainly  dreams  of  cherishing 

A  taste  for  heavenly  joys ; 
Yet  grovels,  even  while  perishing, 

Amid  delusive  toys. 

x. 

So,  the  ancient  church  of  God, 

Still  on  earth  sojourning, 
Wandering  from  the  narrow  road, 

And  holy  precepts  spurning, 
Felt  its  early  love  decline ; 
And  its  glory  ceased  to  shine ; 
Till,  forgetting  its  dependence  on  the  arm  that  placed  it 

here, 
And  neglecting  strict  attendance  on  the  duties  of   its 

sphere ; — 
It  sunk  in  sloth  and  ignorance,  while  pride  assumed  the 

sway ; 
Then  slumbered  on  for  ages,  in  the  precincts  of  decay. 
The  pseudo-prophet  in  the  East,  a  warlike  host  obeyed ; 
While,  in  the  West,  the  mystic  beast  his  wide  dominion 
swayed, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  255 

And  the  incubus  of  error,  with  its  dragon  wings  out- 
spread, 

By  its  enginery  of  terror,  held  the  Christian  world  in  dread. 

Thus,  fallen  is  Jerusalem!  her  courts  a  wreck  remain ; 

Though  pilgrim  warriors  visit  them,  to  rear  those  walls 
again. 

xf 

But  lo  !  a  voice,  a  light ! 

The  drowsy  nations  warning  ! 
Breaking  the  shades  of  moral  night, 

To  bring  a  glorious  morning  ! 
The  gospel  trump  is  loudly  blown, 

To  wake  a  sleeping  age ; 
The  word  of  sacred  truth  is.  shown, 

And  nations  scan  the  page. 
Once  more,  the  willing  world  to  bless, 
Appears  the  Sun  of  Righteousness, 
With  balm  of  healing  on  his  wings, 
And  comfort  in  the  light  he  brings ; 
To  rise  and  shine  with  brightening  ray, 
Increasing  till  the  perfect  day. 

XII. 

The  church  again  revives, — 
Waked  by  the  light,  cheered  by  the  thrilling  sound, 

And  earnestly  she  strives 

Again  to  seek  the  living  fount, 

Again  to  climb  the  sacred  mount, 
And  plant  her  footsteps  firm  on  holy  ground. 


256  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Again  the  cause  of  missions,  in  the  Saviour's  name  com- 
mands, 

"  Go  forth,  and  preach  the  gospel  unto  all  the  heathen 
lands ! 

"  Go  spread  the  joyful  tidings,  to  earth's  remotest  race  ; 

"  Proclaim  to  them  salvation,  through  God's  forgiving 
grace ;  t 

"And  bid  them  freely  welcome  to  the  Saviour's  proffered 
love, 

"  Who  died  for  their  redemption,  and  invites  them  from 
above." 

XIII. 

Forth,  at  the  mighty  call, 
The  ardent  missionaries  urge  their  way, 
Leaving  their  home,  their  clime,  their  earthly  all ; 
Nor  trials  daunt,  nor  dangers  them  appal, 

Nor  sorrowing  friends  can  tempt  them  to  delay. 
They  go  on  mercy's  errand,  to  benighted  lands  afar, 
Where  morning  sheds  her  earliest  beams,  or  shines  the 

latest  star  : 
Evangelists  and  ministers  from  heaven's  Eternal  King, 
His  freely  offered  pardon  they  to  rebel  mortals  bring. 
His  works  of  power  and  wisdom  proclaiming  far  and 

wide, 
His  word  their  great  commission,   and  His  Spirit  for 

their  guide, — 
They  seek  the  post  of  duty,  and  every  hardship  brave, 
Or  in  the  savage  wilderness,  or  on  the  swelling  wave. 

XIV. 

And  have  their  efforts  been  sustained 
By  brethren  who  at  ease  remained  1 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  257. 

And  did  the  church  at  home  afford 

Abundant  means  to  spread  the  word  1 

Alas  !  how  feeble  was  the  aid, 
How  small  the  needed  contribution  ! 

How  cold  the  interest  displayed, 

How  slight  the  sacrifices  made 
For  souls  in  utter  destitution  ! 

But  hoping  still,  and  undismayed, 
Those  faithful  preachers  onward  pressing, 

Labored,  and  taught,  and  wept,  and  prayed, 
And  struggled  for  the  promised  blessing. 

They  heard  the  heathen  world  appeal 

To  Christian  love,  and  Christian  zeal ; 

They  heard  the  Macedonian  cry, 

"  Come  o'er,  and  help  us,  ere  we  die  !" 

xv. 

That  cry  was  heard, — that  aid  was  given. 
And  are  those  deeds  in  vain  recorded ! 
Forbid  it,  hope  !  forbid  it  heaven, 

By  whom  those  toils  have  been  rewarded  ! 
At  length  appeared   the  presage,  and   the  promise  of 

success ; 
The  missionaries'  message  at  length  prevailed  to  bless ; 
And  where  of  yore  was  darkening  the  depth  of  woe  and 

crime, 
The  heathen  tribes  are  hearkening  to  words  of  truth 

sublime. 
See  Afric's  gladdened  faces  the  welcome  news  receive, ' 
And  Asia's  tawny  races  at  length  with  joy  believe ; 
The  Islands  of  the  ocean  their  accordant  voices  raise, 
Uniting  in  devotion,  and  attempting  notes  of  praise ; 
•    22* 


258 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


While  Indian  hunters,  roaming  over  mountain,  vale,  and 

flood, 
Welcome  the  Gospel's  coming,  and  adore  the  Son  of 

God. 

XVI. 

Shall  not  the  joyful  tidings  each  Christian  heart  inspire  ? 
Arrest  our  own  backslidings,  and  fan  the  sacred  fire  1 
Shall  we  neglect  the  blessing, — the  glorious  boon  resign, 
While   heathen   lands   are   pressing,  to   seek   for   joys 

divine  1 
Oh  !  freely  as  for  brothers,  may  our  sacred  offerings  flow ; 
And  by  the  love  of  others,  may  our  own,  enkindled,  glow ; 
Till  every  heart  is  thrilling,  by  ardent  zeal  inflamed, 
The  prophecies  fulfilling,  in  ages  past  proclaimed ; 
Till  over  every  land  and  sea  the  light  of  truth  is  spread ; 
Till  Jew  and  Gentile,  bond  and  free,  are  one  in  Christ, 

their  Head ; 
Till  once  again  appearing,  the  great  Messiah  come, 
To  reign  on  earth  in  glory,  and  to  call  his  heralds  home ! 

Philadelphia,  Penx,  April  24,  1839. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  259 


FOE  AN  ALBUM. 

"  Should  sorrow  o'er  thy  brow- 
Its  darkened  shadows  fling, 
And  hopes  that  cheer  thee  now, 

Die  in  their  early  spring ; 
Should  pleasure  at  its  birth, 

Fade  like  the  lines  of  even, 
Turn  thou  away  from  earth, — 
There's  rest  for  thee  in  heaven." 

J.  H.  Bright. 

If  it  be  true  of  human  schemes, 
That  life  is  but  a  book  of  dreams, 
Fair  lady,  may  thy  album  be 
A  type  of  life  itself  to  thee ! 

Its  title-page,  in  beauteous  dress, 
May  well  thy  youthful  hopes  express ; 
And  as  it  now  is  free  from  stain, 
So  may  it  evermore  remain. 

As  friendly  hands  these  pages  fill 
With  words  of  wisdom  and  good-will, 
So  be  thy  heart,  in  every  line, 
Inscribed  with  wisdom  all  divine. 

May  these  fair  groups  of  pictured  flowers 
Be  emblems  of  thy  happy  hours ; 
But  be  the  flowers  more  thickly  spread 
Along  the  path  which  thou  shalt  tread. 

As  time,  while  hastening  on  his  way, 
Turns  o'er  a  new  leaf  every  day, 


260  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

May  every  page,  in  letters  bright, 
Convey  instruction  and  delight. 

And  when  the  pages  all  are  penned 
With  choice  selections  to  the  end, 
May  life  itself  an  album  be, 
To  keep  through  all  eternity  ! 

Pomfret,  Conn.,  Nov.,  1843. 


THE  BAEK  OF  LIFE. 

WRITTEN    IN    A    YOUNG    LADY'S    ALBUM. 

"  The  youth  whose  bark  is  guided  o'er 
A  summer  stream  by  zephyrs'  breath, 
With  idle  gaze  delights  to  pore 

On  imaged  skies  that  glow  beneath  : 
But  should  a  fleeting  storm  arise 

To  shade  awhile  the  watery  way 
Quick  lifts  to  heaven  his  anxious  eyes, 
And  speeds  to  reach  some  sheltering  bay." 
W.  Legget. 

Once,  in  a  waking  dream, 

Saw  I  a  gliding  stream, 

Lit  by  the  morning's  beam  ; — 

Gentle  its  motion  ; — 
Sprung  from  a  distant  source, 
Rolling  with  constant  force, 
Speeding  with  rapid  course, 

On,  to  life's  ocean. 

Since  the  creation's  prime, 
Till  the  last  night  of  time, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  261 

Ever,  with  march  sublime, 

That  current  floweth : 
Broader  its  waters  be, 
Ere  to  the  mighty  sea, 
Lost  in  eternity, 

That  river  goeth. 

Watching  each  sail  so  white, 
Spread  to  the  morning  light, 
I  spied  a  shallop  bright 

Daintily  laden ; 
Hope,  love,  and  joy  were  there 
Striving  with  constant  care, 
Down  the  broad  stream  to  bear 

One  gentle  maiden. 

Hope  told  her  flattering  tales, 
Whispering  of  balmy  gales, 
Wafting  her  taper  sails 

Rapidly  seaward  ; 
Joy,  with  a  rosy  smile, 
Did  the  rapt  hours  beguile, 
Love  looking  back  the  while 

Aye  to  the  leeward. 

Knowledge,  with  aspect  staid, 
Ever  before  the  maid, 
On  a  rich  page,  displayed 

Learning's  choice  treasures  ; 
And  with  a  winning  eye, 
Heaven-seeking  piety 
Showed  her,  beyond  the  sky, 

Infinite  pleasures. 


262  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Thus,  on  the  flowing  tide, 
Did  the  fair  shallop  ride, 
Many  a  full  sail  beside, 

Blythely  and  gaily ; 
Many  a  loving  one 
Watching  its  rising  sun. 
Pleased  with  its  course  begun, 

Blessing  it  daily. 

'Twas  a  glad  sight  to  view, 
How  the  bark  lightly  flew, 
Bright  as  the  morning  dew, 

O'er  the  deep  waters  ; 
Each  vessel  passing  by, 
Hailing  with  merry  cry  ; 
Time  bore  them  joyously, — 

Earth's  gentle  daughters. 

Long  may  the  voyage  last ; 
Safely  each  harm  be  past, 
Aye  from  the  hurtful  blast 

Be  they  defended  ! 
Thus,  as  I  warmly  prayed 
For  the  young  blue-eyed  maid, 
East  did  the  vision  fade ; 

There  the  dream  ended. 

Pomfret,  Conn.,  Jan.,  1844. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  263 


THE  TWO  DKEAMS  OF  MOHAMMED. 

THIS    POEM    IS    A    PURE    FICTION,    FOUNDED    SIMPLY    ON    IMAGINARY 
POSSIBILITIES. 

Mohammed  dreamed,  as  be  drowsed  alone, 

In  a  secret,  sombre  cave, 
O'erarched  by  the  white  stalactite  stone, 
And  its  mouth  with  the  cactus  overgrown, 

By  the  Red  Sea's  sparkling  wave. 
Soft  and  solemn  was  the  moan 

Which  the  rippling  waters  gave. 

He  dreamed  that  he  saw,  on  the  pall  of  night, 

A  new  and  glorious  star, 
Uprisen  with  majestic  might, 
And  shining  with  supernal  light 

From  its  tranquil  home  afar 
It  seemed,  to  the  dreamer's  ravished  sight, 

A  celestial  avatar. 

And  he  watched  its  course  till  a  crescent  flame 

Shone  on  his  startled  eye  ; 
With  a  lurid,  baleful  blaze  it  came, 
Climbing  the  orient's  vaulted  frame, 

And  illuming  half  the  sky  ; 
The  harbinger  of  a  dreaded  name, 

Betokening  wonders  nigh. 

He  shuddered,  then,  with  a  sense  of  fear, 
And  vainly  strove  to  flee  • 


264  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Till  a  hollow  voice  he  seemed  to  hear, 
Which  faintly  whispered  in  his  ear, 

"  That  Crescent  is  for  thee." 
The  dreamer  woke ; — no  voice  was  near, 

But  the  moaning  of  the  sea. 


Twelve  years  elapse,  and  an  armed  band 

Ride  from  Medina's  gate. 
With  sword  and  spear,  and  torch  and  brand, 
A  phalanx  trained  to  stern  command, 

Their  leader's  voice  they  wait : 
And  a  Crescent  banner  in  his  hand, 

Controls  their  willing  fate. 

O'er  fields  of  danger,  toil,  and  blood, 

That  banner  led  the  way  : 
And  pressing  onward  like  a  flood, 
The  foeman's  onsets  it  withstood, 

With  warriors  fierce  as  they. 
"  Allah  il  Allah ;  God  is  good  !" 

They  shout  as  they  seize  their  prey. 

They  push  their  conquests  East  and  West, 

Beneath  that  potent  sign  : 
Arabia  nods  at  his  behest, 
And  the  warlike  leader  stands  confessed, 

A  prophet  all  divine. 
A  glow  of  rapture  fills  his  breast, 

As  "  the  world,"  he  cries,  "  is  mine." 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  265 

The  scene  is  changed.     In  a  curtained  room, 

On  a  gorgeous,  broidered  bed, 
Beneath  a  canopy's  gilded  gloom, 
Inhaling  the  breath  of  the  rose's  bloom, 

The  Prophet  rests  his  head ; 
And  he  feels  that  it  is  his  hour  of  doom, 

With  a  summons  to  the  dead. 

Again  he  sleeps  ;  again  he  dreams ; 

And  upward  turns  his  eyes  : 
Fading  the  light  of  the  Crescent  seems 
Till  anon  it  falls,  with  fitful  gleams, 

Extinguished  from  the  skies  ; 
While  o'er  the  wreck,  the  radiant  beams 

Of  the  Star  of  Bethlehem  rise. 

With  a  fearful  start,  Mohammed  woke, 

And  yelled  a  fearful  yell ! 
He  felt  that  the  hollow  voice  which  spoke 
In  the  cave  of  old,  and  his  slumbers  broke, 

Was  a  tempting  imp  of  hell ! 
A  dying  groan, — a  ghastly  look, — 

And  he  bade  the  world  farewell ! 

Pomfret,  Coxx.,  June,  1844. 


266  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


TO   LITTLE  CLAKA. 


in  memory  of  clara  park;  who  died  in  pomfret,   connecticut, 
dec.  21,  1845  ;  aged  eleven  months. 

"  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

"  Sure,  to  the  mansions  of  the  blest 
When  infant  innocence  ascends, 
Some  angel,  brighter  than  the  rest, 
The  spotless  spirit's  flight  attends." 
J.  Q.  Adams. 


Sleep  on,  our  gentle  darling,  sleep 

In  calm  and  placid  rest ! 
Why  should  thy  lonely  parents  weep 

That  thou  art  with  the  blest ! 
No  bitter  tears  for  thee  be  shed  ! 

What  more  could  we  desire  1 
'Tis  but  a  sainted  spirit  fled 

To  join  the  heavenly  choir ! 

Oh !  what  can  fill  the  aching  void 

With  which  our  hearts  must  yearn ! 
What  happy  hours  with  thee  enjoyed 

Can  never  more  return  1 
Thy  beauteous  form,  so  fair  and  bright, 

Though  now  like  marble  cold  ; 
Thy  smiles,  like  holy  beams  of  light, 

No  more  may  we  behold  ! 


One  day  we  heard  thy  prattling  voice, 
And  harmless,  infant  glee, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  267 

To  bid  our  trusting  hearts  rejoice, 

And  bind  our  souls  to  thee. 
One  night,  and  oh  !  what  scene  of  woe 

Presaged  that  awful  morn, 
When  half  our  treasure  here  below 

Was  from  our  bosom  torn ! 

Thou  ne'er  canst  feel  what  we  have  felt, — 

That  agony  of  soul, — 
When  round  thy  quivering  frame  we  knelt, 

And  nature  spurned  control. 
Yet,  though  we  bear  thee  to  the  grave, 

We  will  not  dare  repine  : 
The  gift  our  Heavenly  Father  gave, 

To  Him  we  now  resign ! 

We  know  that  our  enduring  loss 

Is  thine  exceeding  gain : 
Since  Christ,  to  save  thee,  bore  the  cross, 

Then  why  should  we  complain  1 
Oh,  Lord,  preserve  us,  by  thy  grace, 

That  we  at  last  may  rise 
To  meet  our  loved  one,  face  to  face, 

Triumphant  in  the  skies  ! 

Pomfket,  Coxx.,  Dec,  1845. 


268  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


CHRISTMAS    EYE. 


"  How  calm  a  moment  may  precede 

One  that  shall  thrill  the  world  forever  ! 
To  that  still  moment  none  would  heed 
Man's  doom  was  linked,  no  more  to  sever, 
In  the  solemn  midnight, 
Centuries  ago." 

Blackwood's  Magazine. 


Calm  is  Judea's  evening  sky, 

The  winter's  wind  is  still ; 
The  stars  are  shining  gloriously 

On  Tabor's  lofty  hill. 
The  landscape  yet  is  passing  fair, 

The  pastures  still  are  green ; 
So  mild  and  balmy  is  the  air, 

The  prospect  so  serene, 
That  autumn  seems  to  linger  yet, 
And  yield  her  place  with  fond  regret. 


Mount  Carmel  towers  above  the  sea 

In  majesty  sublime ; 
Beyond  the  Lake  of  Galilee, 

Mount  Hermon's  summits  climb  ; 
And  Jordan  flows,  with  gentle  fall, 

Along  the  balmy  plain, 
Beneath  Gilboa's  mount,  where  Saul 

And  Jonathan  were  slain ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  269 

Where  still  the  balm  trees  seem  to  shed 
Sweet  tears  for  the  departed  dead. 


The  sentinel  is  pacing  round 

On  Zion's  lofty  towers  ; 
The  watchman  too,  with  solemn  sound, 

Proclaims  the  passing  hours. 
And  Zion's  maidens  sing  their  songs 

As  maids  are  wont  to  sing, 
While  Zion's  youth,  with  honeyed  tongues, 

Their  acclamations  bring  ; 
And  pilgrim  bands  with  offerings  wait, 
In  silence  at  the  temple's  gate. 

IV. 

Yet,  many  hearths  are  left  alone, 

Though  many  hearts  are  gay ; 
And  many  travellers  are  gone 

To  distant  towns  away. 
Each  Hebrew  to  his  proper  tribe, 

So  runs  the  great  decree, 
Until  the  register  inscribe 

His  name  and  pedigree  ; 
That  Rome's  proud  sovereign  may  behold 
The  power  of  conquered  states  enrolled. 


v. 


Hushed  is  the  recent,  busy  din 
Of  Bethlehem's  transient  throng ; 


93* 


270  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

And  strangers,  crowded  from  the  inn, 

That  weary  night  and  long, 
Are  resting  'neath  the  massive  walls 

Each  dull  and  dreamy  head, 
Or  sheltered  in  the  empty  stalls 
Where  late  the  oxen  fed. 
There  is  no  other  place  for  them 
In  David's  town  of  Bethlehem. 

VI. 

Around,  in  solitary  dales, 

'Mid  overhanging  rocks, 
The  gentle  shepherds  tell  their  tales 

And  guard  their  quiet  flocks, 
Each  gaily  striving  to  beguile 

His  weariness  away, 
Each  in  his  turn  to  rest  awhile 

Till  comes  the  rising  day, — 
All  heedless  of  that  vision  bright 
Which  bursts  on  their  astonished  sight. 


A  glow,  a  gleam  of  heavenly  rays  ! — 

Sure,  night  not  yet  doth  end  ! — 
A  spreading  and  increasing  blaze  ! 

What  can  the  sky  portend  ? 
A  glorious  halo  spreads  around  ; 

And  'mid  its  radiant  sheen, 
With  rays  of  vivid  brightness  crowned 

An  angel  form  is  seen ! 
'Tis  Azrael, — from  the  Almighty, — come, 
To  usher  in  the  day  of  doom  ! 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  271 

VIII. 

But  hark  !  that  voice  of  sweetest  tone, 

What  speaks  it  to  their  ears  1 
How  soon  it  makes  its  message  known, 

And  quells  their  rising  fears ! 
Shepherds,  rejoice  ;  good  news  I  bring 

To  you  and  all  the  earth ; 
This  night  your  great,  eternal  King, 

Messiah,  takes  his  birth ! 
In  Bethlehem's  manger  go  seek,  and  behold 
The  Prince  and  the  Saviour  by  prophets  foretold. 


"  To  you,  in  David's  town,  this  day 

"  Is  born  of  David's  line 
"  A  Saviour  wTho  is  Christ  the  Lord, 

"  And  this  shall  be  the  sign ; 
"  The  heavenly  babe  you  there  shall  find 

"  To  human  view  displayed, 
"  All  meanly  wrapt  in  swathing  bands, 
"  And  in  a  manger  laid. 
"  Go,  shepherds,  be  joyful,  dispel  all  your  fears, 
"  For  Jesus  your  Saviour  in  Jewry  appears." 


And  yet  the  prospect  brightens, 
Resplendent  from  on  high ; 

Celestial  glory  lightens 

The  earth  and  ambient  sky  : 

And  at  the  thrilling  symphony 
Amid  th'  ethereal  fire. 


272  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

With  notes  of  heavenly  harmony 
Appears  the  seraph  choir, 
Praising  God  and  sweetly  singing, — 
Heaven's  eternal  arches  ringing, — 
"All  glory  be  to  God  on  high,  and  to  the  earth  be 

peace, 
"  Good-will  henceforth  from  heaven  to  men  begin  and 


Pomfret,  Conn.,  Dec,  1846. 


THE  SNOW. 


"  He  giveth  snow  like  wool :    He  scattereth  the  hoar  frost 
like  ashes." — Psalm  cxlvii.  16. 


Ho !  ho !  the  wintry  snow ! 

Welcome  again  to  this  world  below ! 

How  beautiful  it  glideth  down, 

Besting  on  the  mountain's  crown, 

On  the  meadows,  sere  and  brown, 

Or  'mid  the  streets  of  the  busy  town, 

When  the  wind  is  hushed  on  ocean's  breast, 

And  the  angry  waves  have  sunk  to  rest. 

Softly,  gently,  see  it  fall, 

On  the  roof  and  on  the  wall, 

Crusting,  with  many  a  crystal  flake, 

The  surface  of  the  icy  lake, 

Or  melting  in  the  briny  sea, 

As  time  is  lost  in  eternity. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  273 

n. 

Hard  it  is,  when  fierce  winds  blow, 
To  brave  the  gusts  of  driving  snow  ; 
When  it  comes  like  a  volley  of  icy  shot, 
And  batters  the  windows  of  palace  and  cot ; 
In  all  its  fury  rushing  forth 
From  the  frozen  realms  of  the  gloomy  north ; 
The  dusky  air  its  winged  steed, 
Driving  on  with  a  demon's  speed 

Over  tower,  and  over  tree, 

Over  land,  and  over  sea, 
Sweeping  by  the  lofty  dome, 
Hissing  on  the  white  wave's  foam. 
Awful  darkness  all  surrounding, 
Angry  billows  loud  resounding, 
While  the  sailor  clings  to  the  napping  sail, 
Shivering  and  sad  in  the  fearful  gale. 


Oh  how  beautiful  is  the  snow, 
Glistening  in  the  moon-beams'  glow ; 
Covering  the  earth  with  mantle  white, 
Pure  as  an  angel's  robe  of  light, 
Each  unsightly  shape  concealing, 
Every  beauteous  form  revealing ; 
While  the  hills,  so  richly  dressed, 
Swell  beneath  their  snowy  vest, 
As  if  the  fair  terraqueous  globe 
Had  donned  her  choicest  bridal  robe, 
Hoping,  by  so  rare  display, 
Back  to  win  the  Lord  of  day. 


274  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


IV. 


Grand  and  gorgeous  in  the  show, 
When  icy  gems  are  set  in  snow  ; 
When  the  chilling  rain  in  pendant  drops 
Ts  frozen  on  the  high  tree-tops, 
Sparkling  from  every  twig  around, 
And  crystallized  o'er  all  the  ground, 
Hanging  from  the  shining  eaves, 
Like  stalactites  in  eastern  caves, 

Lucid  as  the  costly  gems 

Set  in  royal  diadems, 
Flashing  light  of  every  hue, — 
Ruby,  purple,  green,  or  blue, 
Till  the  eye  is  dazzled,  and  faintly  turns 
From  the  noontide  blaze  that  round  it  burns. 


v. 

Rich  it  is,  when  a  moonlight  eve/ 
From  life-long  cares  brings  short  reprieve, 
While  children  sport  on  the  smooth  hill-side 
Over  the  snow-clad  hills  to  ride  ; 
When  the  merry  bells  their  notes  ring  out, 
With  laugh  and  song  and  joyous  shout ; 
When  every  steed  is  bounding  free, 
And  every  heart  is  full  of  glee ; 
When  every  voice  prolongs  the  sport, 
And  time  and  space  seem  all  too  short, 
Till  the  crescent  moon,  in  the  fading  west, 
Warns  to  return  at  the  hour  of  rest. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  275 


VI. 

And  then,  how  useful  is  the  snow, 
When  wintry  north  winds  fiercely  blow  ; 
Guarding  the  earth  with  its  fleecy  fold 
From  the  piercing  power  of  frost  and  cold ; 
Sheltering  the  grass,  with  its  downy  wing, 
Safe  till  the  genial  hour  of  Spring ; 
Cheering  the  night  with  reflected  light, 
Speeding  the  winter's  tardy  flight, 
Helping  the  traveller  on  his  way, 
To  reach  his  home  ere  the  close  of  day, 
While  the  patient  ox,  o'er  the  glassy  road, 
Trudges  along  with  his  heavy  load. 

VII. 

When  autumn  fades,  with  its  fruits  and  flowers, 

And  the  leaves  are  gone  from  groves  and  bowers ; 

When  winter  comes  with  its  gloomy  pall, 

And  erst  the  white  flakes  gently  fall, 

Borne  upon  the  breeze's  breath, 

Robing  the  earth  in  a  shroud  of  death, 

Warning  us  of  the  hour  to  come, 

When  we  must  quit  this  mortal  home, 

And  in  the  silent  grave  be  laid, 

In  death's  habiliments  arrayed, — 

With  thoughts  like  these  our  souls  should  glow, 

And  God  be  thanked  for  the  welcome  snow ! 

Pomfret,  Conn.,  Jan.,  1848. 


276  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

A  DEDICATION. 

WRITTEN   IN   A   YOUNG   LADY'S   ALBUM,    BY   SPECIAL   REQUEST. 

Your  beauteous  album,  lady  fair, 

So  pure,  and  so  inviting, 
Is  worthy  of  the  poet's  care, 

And  studious  inditing. 
I  would  that  mine  were  fancy's  power, 

With  richest  inspiration, 
•  To  cull  each  muse's  choicest  flower, 

For  this,  its  dedication. 

I  fain  would  sing  of  days  of  old, 

The  days  of  love  and  glory ; 
Of  ladies  bright,  and  warriors  bold, 

Whose  deeds  survive  in  story  ; 
Of  magic  tales,  and  fairy  lands, 

The  weird  enchanter's  potion, 
Or  gnomes  that  delve  in  golden  sands, 

And  peris  of  the  ocean. 

T  fain  would  sing  of  days  to  come, — 

Their  various  scenes  unfolding ; 
A  peaceful  and  a  happy  home 

With  prophet's  eye  beholding ; 
With  loving  hearts,  and  smiling  friends, 

And  joys  around  thee  clinging ; 
And  hope  divine,  that  upward  tends, 

Along  thy  pathway  springing. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  277 

But  fancy  fails,  and  strength  declines, 

Although  the  heart  be  willing ; 
And  thus  I  pen  these  simple  lines, 

My  friendly  task  fulfilling  ; 
To  claim  for  genius,  love,  and  truth, 

This  volume's  fairest  pages  : 
Invoking  blessings  on  thy  youth, 

Through  time's  remotest  ages. 

Pomtret,  Conn.,  Jan.,  1849. 


WAYSIDE  MUSINGS. 

"  For  whether  clogged  with  sadness, 
Life's  brief  moments  pass  us  by, 
Or  winged  with  joy  and  gladness, — 
Still,  my  Delius,  we  must  die  !" 

Horace. 

How  frail  and  transient  is  our  brief  existence, 

In  this  uncertain  world  of  sin  and  woe ; 
While  empty  shadows,  flitting  in  the  distance, 

Allure  us  with  a  momentary  glow ! 
Hope  beckons  onward,  with  her  glittering  pinions, 

And  with  her  wreath  conceals  the  fatal  urn ; 
Yet  leaves  us  oft  in  sorrow's  dark  dominions, 

To  mourn  the  days  that  never  can  return. 

Youth's  morning  hour,  with  brightest  prospects  gleaming 
Leads  swiftly'  on,  to  manhood's  highest  noon ; 

And  rapidly  that  sun's  meridian  beaming 
Gives  place  to  evening's  solitary  moon : 
24 


278 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


Spring's  verdant  groves  have  scarce  put  forth  their  flowers, 
And  summer  skies  matured  the  golden  grain, 

Ere  autumn  follows,  with  its  chilling  showers, 
And  life's  pale  winter  darkens  o'er  the  plain. 

Yet  there's  a  bliss,  past  all  imagination, 

Awaiting  those  who  use  life's  moments  well, 
Who  steadfast  walk  the  pathway  of  salvation, 

And  still  in  virtue's  arduous  toils  excel : 
Then  courage !  faithful  follower  of  the  Saviour, 

And  upward  press,  along  life's  devious  way  ! 
He  will  requite  thee ;  for  thy  meek  behavior, 

In  the  pure  realms  of  everlasting  day  ! 

Pomfret,  Conn.,  June,  1849. 


FRAGMENTARY^  INSCRIPTIONS. 

THE    FIRST    OF    THESE    INSCRIPTIONS   WAS    WRITTEN    IN  A    BIBLE :    THE 
OTHERS  WERE  DESIGNED  FOR  BOOK-MARKS. 


The  Book  of  God's  Word,  may  you  never  despise  it, 

But  mark  its  behests,  and  acknowledge  its  power ; 
The  Book  of  God's  Word,  may  you  reverently  prize  it, 

And  make  it  the  guide  of  your  life's  every  hour. 
The  Book  of  God's  Word,  may  you  ponder  and  read  it ; 

Receive  it  with  meekness,  and  cherish  with  love ; 
The  book  of  God's  Word,  if  you  carefully  heed  it, 

Will  bring  you  to  mansions  of  glory  above. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  279 


II. 

Good  deeds  to  men,  are  precious,  fragrant  drops, 
Poured  from  the  crystal  goblet  of  the  soul, 
Which,  though  they  disappear,  are  never  lost ; 
Gently  exhaling  to  their  native  sky. 


There's  not  a  joy  to  mortals  given. 

In  pleasure's  brightest  day, 
But  tells  of  boundless  bliss  in  heaven, 

And  thither  points  our  way. 


The  dial  numbers  not  the  hours  unless  they  are  serene ; 

So  we  should  count  the  moments  lost,  when  heaven  can- 
not be  seen. 

The  ocean  mirrors  not  the  stars,  when  rough  the  billows 
roll; 

So  fades  the  hope  of  heavenly  joys,  when  sin  disturbs 
the  soul. 


If  sorrow  oppress  thee,  thy  patience  display ; 
Though  sore  it  distress  thee,  'twill  soon  pass  away 
If  pleasure  entice  thee,  oh  heed  not  its  sway ; 
Remember,  this  also  will  soon  pass  away. 


280  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

VI. 

Transgression  is  a  fearful  thing 
Sin  causeth  sorrow : 

A  day  of  guilt  will  surely  bring 
A  painful  morrow. 

Pomfret,  Conn.,  June,  1849. 


THE  INFANT  SPIRIT'S  ADIEU. 

IN    MEMORY    OF    THOMAS    FREEMAN    PERRY  ;    WHO    DIED    IN    POMFRET, 
APRIL  0,   1851,  AGED  NINE  MONTHS. 

44  That  ye  sorrow  not,  even  as  others  which  have  no  hope." — 1  Thess.  iv.  18. 

Sorrow  not  for  me,  dear  father ; 

Mother,  weep  for  me  no  more : 
Though  the  storm  of  grief  may  gather, 

And  its  billows  round  you  roar. 
Could  you  know  the  spell  that  bound  me, 

Jesus'  sweet  and  loving  voice  ; 
Could  you  know  what  joys  surround  me, 

You  would  triumph  and  rejoice. 

Mortal  life  is  dark  and  fearful ; 

Care  is  stamped  upon  its  brow  ; 
Mortal  life  is  sad  and  tearful, 

As  yourselves  must  feel  it  now. 
But  the  disencumbered  spirit, 

In  a  brighter  world  than  this, 
Shall  with  sainted  hosts  inherit, 

An  eternity  of  bliss. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  281 

Tell  me,  then,  my  loving  father, 

Would  you  call  me  back  in  vain  ? 
Tell  me,  mother,  would  you  rather 

See  me  on  a  bed  of  pain  ? 
Though  your  arms  no  more  uphold  me, 

Or  in  love  around  me  twine, 
Think  the  Saviour's  arms  enfold  me, 

Tenderer  than  even  thine. 

Dearest  parents,  cease  from  weeping, 

Calm  your  troubled  hearts  to  rest : 
Think  your  babe  is  only  sleeping 

On  the  Saviour's  hallowed  breast. 
Lamb  of  God,  you  often  name  him  ; 

Shepherd,  he  has  been  to  me  : — 
Mother  dear,  oh  do  not  blame  him, 

If  he  takes  his  lamb  from  thee ! 

May  that  gentle  Shepherd  lead  you 

Where  the  living  waters  flow ; 
May  he  guard,  and  guide,  and  feed  you 

Where  the  heavenly  pastures  grow. 
Seek  him  always  ;  praise  him  ever ; 

Trusting  to  his  boundless  love ; 
Till  at  length,  no  more  to  sever, 

We  shall  meet  in  realms  above  ! 

Pomfket,  Conk.,  April,  1851. 
24* 


282  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


EUTHANASIA. 


IN   MEMORY  OF  MISS   ALICE  A.  MASON ;    WHO    DIED   IN   THOMPSON,  CONN. 
FEB.   6,   1853,  AGED  THIRTEEN  YEARS. 


"  They  whom  the  gods  love,  die  young." 

She  has  gone  to  her  peaceful  rest, 
Where  the  loved  shall  never  die ; 

To  the  beautiful  land  of  the  bright  and  blest, 
And  the  mansions  of  the  sky. 

She  has  left  this  world  of  care, 

Of  fitful  change  and  gloom  ; 
She  has  gone  to  live  in  a  world  more  fair, 

Though  its  portal  was  the  tomb. 

She  is  with  the  happy,  now, 

Where  grief  is  no  longer  known  ; 

And  she  kneels  with  the  host  of  saints  that  bow 
Before  the  Almighty  throne. 

She  has  joined  the  countless  throng 

Who  bask  in  the  Saviour's  love ; 
And  she  mingles  her  notes  in  the  grateful  song 

Of  the  seraphim  above. 

Then  weep  for  her  no  more, 

Who  hath  ceased  on  earth  to  roam ; 

Her  spirit  has  reached  that  happy  shore 
Which  alone  is  that  spirit's  home. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  283 

Plant  flowers  around  her  grave, 

The  choicest  flowers  of  spring ; 
There  let  the  drooping  willow  wave, 

And  the  birds  their  carols  sing. 

Oft,  in  the  twilight  hour, 

You  will  deem  her  footstep  near  ; 

Oft,  with  a  strange,  mysterious  power, 
Her  voice  you  will  seem  to  hear ; 

A  voice  that  will  speak  of  bliss, 

Of  love  that  can  never  die, 
And  will  call  you  away  from  a  world  like  this. 

To  a  brighter  world  on  high. 

Then  choose  the  heavenly  road, 
And  the  path  which  she  hath  trod ; 

It  will  lead  you  on  to  the  .blest  abode 
Of  our  Saviour  and  our  God ! 

Racine,  \Yis.,  Feb.,  1853. 


COMMENCEMENT  HYMX. 

WRITTEN'    FOR    THE    FIRST    COMMENCEMENT    AND    INTENDED    TO    BE   SUXG 
AT    EACH    ANNUAL    COMMENCEMENT    OF    RACINE    COLLEGE 

Almighty  God,  enthroned  above, 
Eternal  Source  of  light  and  love, 
To  Thee  our  joyful  lips  would  raise 
A  solemn  song  of  grateful  praise. 


284  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Beyond  all  temples  built  by  art, 
Thy  dwelling  is  the  pious  heart ; 
Thy  Spirit  in  our  hearts  enshrine, 
And  make  them  temples,  wholly  thine. 

Help  us  to  bear  the  lamp  of  truth, 
To  light  the  steps  of  eager  youth ; 
And  be  that  light  on  others  shed, 
When  we  are  numbered  with  the  dead. 

Thou  art  the  way,  the  truth,  the  life, 
Oh,  guard  us  from  the  way  of  strife ; 
Be  Thou  our  light,  direct  our  way, 
And  guide  us  to  celestial  day. 

Racine,  Wis.,  July,  1853. 


A  CHKISTMAS  CAROL. 

WRITTEN    FOR   THE   SUNDAY   SCHOOL   OF   ST.  LUKE'S    CHURCH,  RACINE. 

41  While  angels  thus,  0  Lord,  rejoice, 
Shall  men  no  anthem  raise  ? 
0  may  we  lose  these  useless  tongues, 
When  we  forget  to  praise  !" 

Christian  children,  raise  your  "voices, 

In  a  glad  and  grateful  song : 
Heaven  is  gracious,  earth  rejoices, 

Heaven  and  earth  the  strain  prolong. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  285 

Lift  your  thoughts  to  that  bright  morning, 

When  in  eastern  lands  afar, — 
Earth  with  radiant  beams  adorning, — 

Shone  the  light  of  Jacob's  star. 

To  the  shades  of  night  descending, 

From  his  high  celestial  home. 
Yet,  with  heavenly  guards  attending, 

Lo  !  the  Son  of  God  is  come. 
Angel  hosts,  with  tuneful  numbers, 

On  that  great  auspicious  morn, 
Rouse  the  shepherds  from  their  slumbers, 

With  the  tidings,  "  Christ  is  born." 

He  displays  no  regal  splendor, 

W^ears  no  jewelled  diadem  ; 
Our  Redeemer,  our  Defender, 

Is  the  Babe  of  Bethlehem. 
Yet,  supreme  o'er  all  creation, 

Glorious  is  the  rank  he  brings ; 
His  the  sacred  appellation, 

"  Lord  of  lords,  and  King  of  kings." 

Not  in  clouds  of  gloom  and  terror 

Seeks  he  now  this  darkened  earth ; 
To  redeem  the  world  from  error 

Is  the  object  of  his  birth. 
Hark  !  the  herald  angels,  singing, 

Waft  the  news  to  human  ken, 
And  the  welkin  still  is  ringing, 

n  Peace  on  earth,  good-will  to  men." 


286  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Let  us  go  and  fall  before  him, 

Bringing  gifts  of  balm  and  gold  ; 
In  humility  adore  him, 

With  his  chosen  flock  enrolled. 
He  will  guard  us,  he  will  lead  us, 

As  he  led  his  tribes  of  yore, 
And  with  heavenly  manna  feed  us, 

Till  we  land  on  Canaan's  shore. 

Soon,  in  majesty  resplendent, 

Shall  his  banner  be  unfurled  ; 
Soon,  with  pomp  and  power  transcendent, 

He  shall  come  to  judge  the  world 
May  we  then,  upborne  to  glory, 

In  his  blissful  courts  above, 
Sing  anew  the  wondrous  story 

Of  our  great  Redeemer's  love. 

Racine,  Wis.,  Dec,  1853. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  287 


IN  MEMOEIAM. 


SACKED  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  MRS.  MARY  B.  PARK  J  WHO  DIED  IN  RA- 
CINE, WIS.,  OCTOBER  23,  1854,  IX  THE  FORTIETH  YEAR  OF  HER  AGE. 
'^SEE   THE    MEMOIR    AT    THE    COMMENCEMENT    OF    THIS    VOLUME.) 

"  Thy  pure  heart  was  trusting  and  true, 
While  Pain  told  each  fast-failing  breath, 
A  sweet  smile  of  Love  spoke  thy  latest  adieu, 
And  songs  were  the  accents  of  Death. 


"  Mine  eye  may  not  gaze  upon  thine, 

While  in  Earth's  shaded  valley  I  dwell : 
Till  we  meet  then,  for  aye,  'mid  the  glories  divine, 
Sweet  spirit,  oh,  sweetly  farewell !" 

Rev.  C.  W.  Everest. 

We  are  parted,  my  Beloved  !  Death  has  summoned 
thee  away, 

And  thy  form,  once  robed  in  beauty,  now  lies  moulder- 
ing to  decay ; 

In  the  silent  grave  reposing,  by  that  lake's  resounding 
shore, 

Thou  hast  oft  so  fondly  gazed  on,  but  wilt  gaze  upon  no 
more. 

We  are  parted,  my  Beloved !     'Twas  a  dark  and  dreary 

night, 
When  the  King  of  Terrors  suddenly  appeared  in  awful 

might ; 
But  though  crossing  the  Dark  River,  I  am  sure  thy  steps 

were  led 
To  the  Distant  Hills  of  glory,  by  a  bright,  unbroken 

thread. 


288  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

We  are  parted,  my  Beloved,  and  thy  task  on  earth  is 

done; 
Thou  wast  watchful,  thou  wast  faithful,  and  thy  race  was 

swiftly  run ; 
While  I  must  wait  with  patience,  till  the  appointed  time 

shall  come, 
When  joy  shall  crown  our  meeting,  in  a  bright,  eternal 

home. 

We  are  parted,  my  Beloved,  but  thine  image  still  is  near, 
And  thy  last  serene  but  sad  farewell,  yet  lingers  in  my 

ear; 
And  oft  a  voice  from  heaven   declares,  "The   dead  in 

Christ  are  blest, 
For  their  works  of  love  do  follow  them,"  to  seal  their 

final  rest. 

We  are  parted,  my  Beloved  !   And  my  future  life  must 

seem 
Like  a  strange,   fleeting  vision,   or  a  wild,  wandering 

dream. 
But   a   bright  and   beauteous   spirit- form   has   led   me 

through  the  past — 
Oh!  be  thou  still  my  guiding  star,  and  lead  me  to  the 

last! 

We  are  parted,  my  Beloved,  but  thy  memory  remains, 
A  solace  in  my  lonely  hours,  a  balm  to  soothe  my  pains. 
'Tis   a  casket   full    of  fragrancy   around   my  pathway 

shed, 
And  by  it  still  thou  speakest  from  the  mansions  of  the 

dead. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  280 

We  are  parted,  my  Beloved  !     But  from  off  that  parent 

stem, 
Four  immortal  buds  are  blooming,  and  thou  livest  still 

in  them. 
Lord !  assist  me  so  to  train  them,  in  the  light  of  truth 

and  love, 
That  we  all  may  meet  hereafter,  in  Thy  blissful  courts 

above ! 

We  are  parted,  my  Beloved,  and  the  darling  we  had 
lost, 

Thou  hast  found  among  the  cherubs,  in  that  bright,  ran- 
somed host ; 

But  the  babe  thou  wouldst  have  taken  to  the  spirit-land 
with  thee, 

I  would  fain  and  fondly  cherish,  as  thy  parting  gift  to 
me! 

We  are  parted,  my  Beloved !     But  the  time  will  swiftly 

glide, 
As  it  bears  my  anxious  bark  along  its  ever-rolling  tide, 
And  I  trust  that  thou  art  waiting,  on  that  bright  celestial 

shore, 
Where  all  whom  thou  hast  loved  and  left,  shall  meet  to 

part  no  more ! 

Racine,  Wis.,  Nov.  23,  1854. 
25 


290  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE  BIBLE. 


"  Thy  word  is  a  lamp  unto  my  feet,  and  a  light  unto  my  path. 
-Psalm  cxix.  105. 

In  a  lofty,  sea-girt  tower, 

Burns  a  lantern,  bright  and  clear, 

Shining  forth,  with  piercing  power, 

In  the  midnight's  lonely  hour, 

Through  the  mist  so  damp  and  drear, 

Cheering  many  a  lonely  stranger, 

Warning  many  a  ship  from  danger 
Of  the  breakers  rolling  near ; 

Ceasing  only  when  the  morning 

Supersedes  its  nightly  warning. 

Such  a  light,  of  God's  bestowing, 

Is  the  Bible,  book  divine. 
Ever  are  its  pages  glowing, 
Truths  of  boundless  import  showing ; 

Ever  does  it  brightly  shine : 
Thus  from  snares  of  sin  it  frees  us, 
Setting  forth  the  lowly  Jesus, 

Pattern  pure,  in  every  line  ; 
Guiding  us  through  darksome  years, 
Till  the  light  of  heaven  appears. 

Racine,  Wis.,  May  1,  1855. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  291 


THEENODIA. 

In  memory  of  Helen  Park ;  who  died  of  brain  fever,  in  Racine, 
Wis.,  Oct.  14,  1855  ;  aged  seven  years  and  six  months.  A  deeply 
bereaved  father  desires  to  make  brief  mention  of  this  lamb  of 
Christ's  flock,  called  thus  early,  to  join  her  sainted  Mother,  and 
an  infant  sister,  in  the  Paradise  of  the  blest.  Of  intelligence 
beyond  her  years,  of  great  personal  beauty,  and  of  a  most  affec- 
tionate disposition,  she  was  all  that  a  fond  parent  could  desire 
in  a  child  of  her  age ;  and  seemed  already  ripe  for  heaven,  like 
a  spring  flower  which  cannot  bear  the  rude  blast  of  autumnal 
winds.  Already  had  she  given  full  proof  of  practical  piety ;  and 
her  earnest  request  to  receive  confirmation,  and  make  a  public 
profession  of  her  Christian  faith,  was  only  postponed  on  account 
of  her  tender  age  ;  knowing  that  the  will  would  be  accepted  in 
place  of  the  deed.  She  was  too  pure,  and  too  good  for  this 
world ;  and  during  her  last  painful  illness,  which  she  bore  with 
admirable  patience,  she  expressed  her  entire  willingness  to  de- 
part to  the  Saviour's  bosom,  where  she  is  doubtless  now  at  rest, 

"  From  sorrow,  care  and  pain 
Forever  free." 


"  Rest  in  peace,  thou  gentle  spirit, 
Throned  above ; 
Souls  like  thine  with  God  inherit 
Life  and  love." 

J.  T.  Fields. 


A  light  from  our  dwelling  forever  is  fled ! 
Our  beautiful  Helen  lies  low  with  the  dead ! 
Our  hope's  fairest  blossom,  in  all  its  young  bloom, 
Is  plucked  from  our  bosom,  and  laid  in  the  tomb. 


292  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

No  form  could  be  fairer,  no  features  more  dear, 
No  charms  could  be  rarer,  to  bless  and  to  cheer. 
Her  smile  ever  pleasant,  her  eye  ever  bright, 
Seemed  constantly  present,  a  dream  of  delight. 

Her  words  so  refining,  so  gentle  and  free, 
Her  thoughts  often  shining,  like  gems  in  the  sea, 
Her  glowing  affection,  like  gold  from  the  mine, 
Our  fond  recollection  will  ever  enshrine. 

In  taste  unpretending,  in  manners  matured, 
In  purpose  unbending,  though  pleasure  allured, 
No  motive  could  move  her  from  rectitude's  ways ; 
None  knew  but  to  love  her,  none  named  but  to  praise. 

Thus  docile,  and  truthful,  and  ripened  for  bliss, 
Her  spirit,  too  pure  for  a  world  such  as  this, 
Hath  vanished  from  earth,  like  the  dew  from  the  fern, 
And  now  shines  in  glory,  no  more  to  return. 

Oh  what  a  blest  moment,  in  mansions  above, 
When  met  by  her  Mother,  with  transports  of  love, 
Their  arms  were  enfolded  in  raptured  embrace, 
And  both  sang  triumphant  the  wonders  of  grace. 

How  bright  it  is  there, — and  how  dim  here  below  ! 
How  brief  the  enjoyment  which  mortals  can  know ! 
How  often  the  storm-cloud  rolls  over  our  way, 
And  darkens  with  sorrow  our  life's  fleeting  day. 

Oh  spare,  heavenly  Father,  the  pangs  that  we  dread, 
While  tempests  thus  gather  and  beat  on  our  head ! 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  293 

Grant  us  consolation  who  wait  for  thee  here, 
And  may  thy  salvation  in  mercy  appear! 

We  feel  our  condition,  but  shrink  from  the  grave ; 
We  know  the  Physician  who  only  can  save ; 
We  plead  for  acceptance,  through  Jesus,  thy  Son, 
And  pray  thee  to  pardon  the  ills  we  have  done. 

We  thank  thee  for  comforts  thy  goodness  hath  lent ; 
We  bow  to  the  trials  thy  wisdom  hath  sent. 
Our  hearts'  richest  treasures  are  creatures  of  thine, 
And  what  thou  requirest  we  meekly  resign. 

Farewell,  gentle  darling  !  we  leave  thee  to  rest ! 
And  light  lie  the  turf  on  thy  innocent  breast, 
Until  the  last  trump  shake  the  earth  and  the  sea ; 
And  then,  be  it  ours  to  awaken  with  thee ; 

With  thee  may  we  rest,  and  with  thee  may  we  rise, 
To  meet  our  Redeemer,  and  soar  to  the  skies, 
To  join  with  the  angels,  and  swell  the  glad  strain 
Of  glory  and  praise  to  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  ! 

Racine,  Wis.,  Oct.  16,  1855. 
25* 


294  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


PALINTHKENODIA. 

IN  MEMORY    OF    BALDWIN    PARK,  WHO    DIED    IN    RACINE,    WIS.,    OCT.    19, 
1855,  AGED    ONE    YEAR    AND    FIVE    DAYS. 

It  was  the  earnest  prayer  of  his  sainted  Mother,  on  her  death- 
bed, that  she  might  take  him  with  her,  to  the  mansions  of  rest- 
After  a  brief  delay,  that  prayer  has  been  answered ;  and  we  mourn 
not  for  him  as  those  who  have  no  hope ;  "  for  of  such  is  the  king- 
dom of  heaven." 

"  No  bitter  tears  for  thee  be  shed, 
Blossom  of  being,  seen  and  gone  ! 
"With  flowers  alone  we  strew  thy  bed, 

Oh  blest,  departed  one  ! 
Whose  all  of  life,  a  rosy  ray, 
Blushed  into  dawn,  and  passed  away." 

Mrs.  Hemans. 

A  bud  lay  drooping, 
Untimely  severed  from  its  parent  stem ; 
And  lo !  a  white-winged  angel,  gently  stooping, 
Bore  it  away  to  glitter  like  a  gem 
Upon  the  Saviour's  priceless  diadem. 

A  Mother  praying 
That  her  dear  babe  might  follow  her  to  rest ; 
Her  gracious  Lord,  a  little  while  delaying, 
Complacent  took,  and  laid  it  on  her  breast, 
To  share  with  her  the  glory  of  the  blest. 

A  Father,  weeping 
That  those  he  loved,  so  soon  are  called  away, 
Weeps  not  for  that  dear  babe  so  sweetly  sleeping, 
To  wake  in  rapture  on  the  final  day, 
But  mourns  for  hopes  now  buried  in  decay. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  295 

Bright  cherubs,  smiling, 
Welcome  the  new-born  spirit  to  the  skies ; 
While  seraph  hosts,  its  dying  pangs  beguiling, 
On  viewless  pinions  soaring,  with  it  rise 
To  the  unfading  bowers  of  paradise. 

A  Saviour's  blessing 
Awaits  it  in  those  blissful  realms  above, 
And  two  fair  sainted  sisters,  each  caressing, 
Teach  it  to  warble,  like  the  murmuring  dove, 
The  tuneful  hymn  of  God's  redeeming  love. 

Eternal  glory, 
Power  and  dominion  to  the  Lamb  belong ; 
Shout,  ye  redeemed,  and  tell  the  wondrous  story ! 
With  angels  join,  to  sing  the  ecstatic  song, 
And  chant  His  praise,  'mid  heaven's  triumphant 
throng. 

Racine,  Wis.,  Oct.  22,  1855. 


HYMN  OF  KEDEMPTIOK 

Which  things  the  angels  desire  to  look  into." — 1  St.  Peter,  i.  12. 

God  hath  spoken !  God  hath  spoken  ! 

Shout,  ye  angel  hosts  above  ! 
Lo  !  a  universe  created, 
And  a  happy  pair  are  mated, 


296  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Down  in  Eden's  balmy  grove ! 
Oh !  how  beautiful  the  token 
Of  our  Heavenly  Father's  love. 

Fatal  error  !  Fatal  error ! 

Man  hath  dared  to  disobey  ! 
Fully  warned,  but  sorely  tempted  ! 
Now  no  more  from  sin  exempted, 

He  to  death  becomes  a  prey. 
Oh  what  anguish,  and  what  terror, 

Springing  from  that  gloomy  day  ! 

Glorious  message !  Glorious  message ! 

Christ  hath  come,  our  race  to  save. 
Angels  hymned  the  heavenly  stranger ; 
He  hath  cradled  in  the  manger ; 

He  hath  washed  in  Jordan's  wave ; 
And  his  coming  is  the  presage 

Of  a  life  beyond  the  grave. 

Satan  rages !  Satan  rages ! 

Christ  is  nailed  upon  the  cross. 
But  for  this  he  came  so  lowly ; 
This  alone  could  make  us  holy, 

This  alone  remove  our  dross ; 
And  the  traitor's  cruel  wages 

Soon  shall  work  his  utter  loss. 

Christ  is  risen  !  Christ  is  risen ! 

Death  hath  fettered  him  in  vain : 
And,  by  angel  guards  attended, 
He  to  heaven  hath  ascended, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  297 

There  in  majesty  to  reign. 
He  hath  burst  our  spirit's  prison, 
And  revived  us  from  the  slain. 

Life  is  fleeting !  Life  is  fleeting  ! 

And  the  time  will  shortly  come, 
When  our  souls,  released  from  anguish, 
Shall  no  longer  pine  and  languish, 

And  our  lips  no  more  be  dumb  ! 
Oh  how  blest  will  be  our  meeting, 

In  that  bright  eternal  home. 

Milwaukee,  Christmas,  1855. 


HEEE  AND  HEKEAFTEK. 

"  The  soul's  dark  cottage,  battered  and  decayed 
Lets  in  new  light  through  chinks  that  time  has  made. 
Stronger  by  weakness,  wiser,  men  become, 
As  they  draw  near  to  their  celestial  home  : 
Leaving  the  old,  both  worlds  at  once  they  view 
That  stand  upon  the  threshold  of  the  new." 

Waller. 

Around  the  theatre  of  time, 
I  gaze  upon  a  scene  sublime, 

And  glance  from  earth  to  sky  ; 
My  restless  thoughts  would  scan  the  whole, 
Survey  the  earth  from  pole  to  pole, 
Then  seek  a  nobler,  surer  goal, 

In  brighter  realms  on  high. 


298  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

I  see  the  starry  worlds  above 
In  fixed  primeval  order  move; — 

Magnificent  array ! — 
But  soon  the  clouds,  in  terror  drest, 
Uprising  from  the  darkening  west, 
Obscure  the  sun,  with  sable  vest, 

And  hide  the  face  of  day. 

I  see  the  ocean  sparkling  bright, 
With  gleamings  of  the  morning  light, 

And  many  a  whitening  sail ; 
But  ah !  how  soon  the  billows  roar, 
And  dash  with  fury  on  the  shore, 
And  round  each  bark,  in  madness,  pour, 

While  trembling  in  the  gale. 

Along  the  beach,  in  sunny  lands, 
A  noble  city  smiling  stands, 

With  spires  and  turrets  high ; 
Until  the  earthquake's  awful  sound 
Is  heard  beneath  the  heaving  ground, 
And  tower  and  temple,  far  around, 

In  mingled  ruin  lie. 

I  hear  the  clangor,  and  the  jar, 
And  muttering  thunder  from  afar, 

Announce  the  impending  doom ; 
I  see  the  trembling  earth  subside, 
The  swelling  of  the  mighty  tide, 
And  all  that  city's  pomp  and  pride 

Whelmed  in  a  watery  tomb. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  299 

Far  o'er  the  plain,  to  yonder  bay, 
A  gentle  river  winds  its  way, 

'Mid  banks  of  living  green ; 
But  when  the  fierce  and  driving  rain 
Inundates  all  the  verdant  plain, 
That  river  swells  a  mighty  main, 

And  changes  all  the  scene. 

Beyond  that  plain,  uprising  still, 
A  forest  crowns  the  distant  hill 

With  cooling  shade  and  breath ; 
Yet  there  the  savage  tiger  prowls, 
And  there  the  gaunt  wolf  nightly  howls, 
While  flitting  bats  and  screeching  owls 

Give  boding  signs  of  death. 

And  as  in  nature,  so  in  art ; 
Deceitful  is  the  human  heart, — 

A  net  with  many  snares ; 
The  tongue  may  charm,  with  promise  sweet, 
And  lure  us  to  a  haunted  seat, 
While  yet  the  trap  beneath  our  feet 

Shall  take  us  unawares. 

I  mark  the  scowl  of  jostling  herds ; 
I  hear  the  sound  of  angry  words ; 

I  see  the  falling  tear  ; 
I  know  that  many  a  bosom  feels 
A  wound  that  pride  in  vain  conceals, 
A  wound  that  passion  oft  reveals ; 

And  finds  no  comfort  here. 


300  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

I  see  the  devotees  of  wealth 
Oft  sacrificing  ease  and  health 

For  ill-contracted  gains ; 
I  mark  the  votaries  of  fame, 
How  oft  they  miss  their  highest  aim, 
And  win,  at  last,  an  empty  name, 

For  all  their  toils  and  pains. 

I  see  the  nations  rise  in  wrath, 

While  fierce  destruction  marks  their  path 

With  rapine,  sword,  and  fire ; 
I  hear  the  crash  of  bursting  bombs, 
I  see  the  smoke  of  flaming  domes, 
I  hear  the  wail  from  ruined  homes, 

'Mid  consternation  dire. 

I  hear  the  battle's  awful  cry, 
The  shout,  to  conquer  or  to  die, 

The  shock  of  serried  hosts  ; 
I  hear  the  cannon's  iron  throats 
Eing  out  their  thunder-booming  notes, 
While  o'er  the  sulphurous  ether  floats 

A  throng  of  parting  ghosts. 

There  is  no  peace,  no  settled  calm ; 
There  is  no  certain  healing  balm, 

For  nature's  sad  unrest ; 
The  world  without,  like  that  within, 
Deformed  by  strife,  and  marred  by  sin 
Reflects  alike  the  clang  and  din 

Which  vex  the  human  breast. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  30; 

Or  if  there  be  a  quiet  nook, 

Where,  hermit-like,  with  cross  and  book, 

I  might,  awhile,  repair, 
Within  that  seeming  safe  retreat 
Which  tempts  my  weary,  wandering  feet, 
Some  lurking,  reptile  form  I  meet, 

To  mar  my  pleasure  there. 

Or  if  I  find  a  bosom  friend 

Whose  heart  with  mine  would  fondly  blend, 

As  rills  together  flow, — 
Some  rocky  chasm  impedes  our  course, 
Whose  waters,  with  resistless  force, 
The  mutual  current  soon  divorce, 

And  plunge  my  soul  in  woe  ! 

And  is  there,  then,  no  sunny  spot, 
No  happy  valley,  glen,  or  grot, 

Or  island  of  the  sea, 
Where  discord,  care,  and  sorrow  cease, 
Where  nature  brings  entire  release, 
And  mortals  dwell  in  halcyon  peace, 

From  sin  forever  free  ? 
i 

No !  no,  my  heart !  seek  not  for  this  ! 
Hope  not  for  pure  and  perfect  bliss, 

On  time's  uncertain  shore  ! 
But  though  thy  bark  be  tempest  driven, 
Thine  anchor  lost,  thy  canvas  riven, 
Look  up,  and  seek  for  rest  in  heaven, 

When  time  shall  be  no  more. 
2G 


302  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

In  that  blest  world  of  boundless  joy- 
No  pains  molest,  no  cares  annoy, 

No  carking  grief  can  come  ; 
For  there  the  sky  is  ever  bright, 
With  neither  tempest,  cloud,  nor  night, 
But  one  long  scene  of  clear  delight 

In  that  eternal  home. 

There  angels  walk  the  golden  streets, 
And  saints  repose  on  crystal  seats, 

In  amaranthine  bowers  ; 
By  jasper  walls  encircled  round, 
With  diadems  of  glory  crowned, 
And  bearing  harps  of  sweetest  sound, 

To  charm  their  blissful  hours. 

For  them  the  living  water  flows, 
For  them  the  fruit  perennial  grows 

Of  Eden's  balmy  grove  : 
They  gaze  upon  their  Saviour's  face, 
They  rest  within  his  loved  embrace 
And  sing  the  wonders  of  his  grace, 

And  praise  his  matchless  love. 

Above  them,  and  around  them,  shine 
The  beams  of  majesty  divine, 

From  God  the  Father's  throne, 
He  is  the  Source  of  bliss  ;  and  thence 
The  Spirit's  sevenfold  influence 
Fills  every  eye,  charms  every  sense, 

And  makes  them  all  his  own. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Then  rise,  my  soul,  no  more  delay  ! 
Expand  thy  wings,  and  haste  away 

To  reach  that  world  on  high  ! 
Think  of  thy  spirit's  heavenly  birth ; 
Forsake  the  tinsel  toys  of  earth  ; 
Aspire  to  joys  of  higher  worth, 

And  soar  beyond  the  sky ! 

Loved  voices  call  thee,  even  now ; 
The  seal  of  God  is  on  thy  brow, 

His  unction  on  thy  breast : 
A  trumpet  tone  sounds  in  thine  ear, 
Each  moment  brings  its  echoes  near, 
And  soon  the  summons  thou  shalt  hear 

Which  calls  thee  to  thy  rest ! 

Racine,  Wis.,  Dec,  1855. 


LOKELY  HOTJES. 

"  All  that's  bright  must  fade, — 
The  brightest  still  the  fleetest ; 
All  that's  sweet  was  made, 

But  to  be  lost  when  sweetest. 
Stars  that  shine  and  fall  ; — 

The  flower  that  droops  in  springing  ; — 
These,  alas  !  are  tj-pes  of  all 
To  which  our  hearts  are  clinging." 

Moore. 

I  have  thoughts  too  sad  for  the  heart  to  tell, 
Which  often  haunt  my  breast, 

Of  those  that  I  loved,  and  who  loved  me  well, 
Now  gone  to  their  final  rest. 


304  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

There's  a  lonely  void  by  the  silent  hearth, 
Through  all  the  toilsome  day  ; 

And  I  sigh  that  the  rarest  gems  of  earth 
Must  soonest  pass  away. 

I  have  thoughts  too  bright  for  the  heart  to  tell, 

Too  pure  for  the  earth's  alloy, 
Of  those  that  I  loved,  and  who  loved  me  well, 

Now  robed  in  eternal  joy. 
And  I  long  to  reach  that  world  of  peace 

And  dwell  on  that  happy  shore, 
Where  sorrow,  and  pain,  and  sin  shall  cease, 

And  friends  shall  part  no  more. 
Racine,  "Wis.,  July  9,  1856. 


MY  ABSENT  LITTLE  SON. 

WRITTEN    ON   RECEIVING   A   LOCK    OF   HIS   HAIR. 

Golden-haired  Eosy, 

Beautiful  boy, 
Bright  as  a  sunbeam 

Sparkling  with  joy  ; 
Fresh  as  the  dew-drop, 

And  brimming  with  glee — 
Golden-haired  Rosy 

Is  precious  to  me. 

Golden-haired  Rosy, 

Though  far  away, 
Soothes  me  on  waking, 

Cheers  me  by  day  : 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  305 

In  his  fair  features 

His  Mother's  I  see — 
This  makes  my  darling 

Still  dearer  to  me. 

Golden-haired  Rosy, 

Long  may  he  live, 
Tasting  each  blessing 

Heaven  may  give ; 
Venturing  never 

On  sin's  fatal  sea, 
Lest  he  forever 

Be  lost  unto  me. 

Golden-haired  Rosy, 

Never  be  thine 
Pangs  or  bereavements 

Bitter  as  mine ; 
Firmly  endeavor 

Christ's  soldier  to  be, 
So  shalt  thou  ever 

Be  precious  to  me  ! 


Racine,  Wis.,  Oct  15,  1856. 
26* 


306  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE  PROFESSION. 


IN  MEMORY  OF  THE  CONFIRMATION  OF  FORTY-FOUR  CANDIDATES,  BY 
BISHOP  KEMPER,  IN  ST.  JUKE'S  CHURCH,  RACINE,  ON  SUNDAY,  JAN- 
UARY 16th,  1857. 

I  see  them  still,  as  then  they  stood, 

On  that  delightful  day, 
A  meek,  devoted  brotherhood, 

In  beautiful  array. 

I  hear  them  by  the  Spirit  led, 

The  Spirit's  aid  to  woo, 
Kepeating  each,  as  then  they  said, 

The  solemn  words,  "  I  do." 

They  do  believe  the  Christian  creed, 

Renouncing  every  sin, 
They  will  essay,  by  thought  and  deed, 

Eternal  life  to  win. 

I  see  them  kneel  as  then  they  knelt, 

Around  the  chancel  rail ; 
Enjoying  still,  what  then  they  felt, 

The  faith  which  cannot  fail. 

And  then  the  Bishop's  hands  are  laid 

On  each  one  kneeling  there, 
And  over  each  devoutly  prayed 

The  confirmation  prayer, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  307 

That  God  would  guard  them  by  His  grace, 

And  bless  them  with  His  love, 
Till  they  behold  His  smiling  face, 

In  realms  of  bliss  above. 

Toil  on,  strive  on,  ye  faithful  band, 

The  narrow  path  pursue ; 
And  soon  the  promised  heavenly  land 

Shall  burst  upon  your  view. 

Heed  not  the  world,  fear  not  your  foes, 

Their  day  will  soon  be  past, 
You  shall  prevail,  though  hell  oppose, 

iVnd  triumph  at  the  last. 

March  onward,  then,  in  Jesus'  strength, 

Till  all  your  cares  are  o'er, 
Until  you  all  shall  meet,  at  length, 

On  Canaan's  blissful  shore, 


Racine,  Jan.  21,  1857. 


EESIGjSTATIOK. 

"  In  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions :  if  it  were  not  so, 
I  would  have  told  you.  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you." — St. 
John,  xiv.  2. 

Thy  name,  O  God,  is  holy, 

Thy  ways  are  just  and  true ; 
Thou  guid'st  the  meek  and  lowly 

Life's  devious  journey  through. 


308  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Thy  wisdom  still  directeth, 
Though  dark  our  pathway  be, 

Thy  Providence  protecteth 
All  those  who  trust  in  Thee. 

The  human  heart  is  erring, 

In  manhood  as  in  youth  ; 
Too  oft  the  wrong  preferring 

To  innocence  and  truth. 
The  obstinate  and  wilful 

Must  surely  go  astray, 
When  even  the  wise  and  skilful 

Oft  miss  the  better  way. 

But  those  who  seek  thy  favor 

And  lift  their  thoughts  above, 
Who  earnestly  endeavor 

To  win  Thy  perfect  love, 
Will  shun  each  bland  seduction 

That  tempts  the  wayward  soul, 
Surmounting  each  obstruction 

That  bars  them  from  the  goal. 

In  danger  and  in  weakness 

We  wander  every  hour ; 
In  diffidence  and  meekness 

Our  trust  is  in  Thy  power. 
The  stubborn  and  the  surly 

Grope  blindly  after  rest ; 
But  they  who  seek  Thee  early 

Are  more  than  doubly  blest. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.  309 

The  light  of  life  is  fading, 

Eternity  is  near ; 
And  through  its  twilight  shading 

The  lights  of  Heaven  appear. 
Oh  guard  us,  weary  mortals, 

And  guide  us  by  Thy  care, 
That,  through  the  shining  portals, 

We  soon  may  enter  there  ! 


Racine,  Feb.  3,  1857. 


NOTES    TO    "JERUSALEM.-' 


[The  numbers  refer  to  the  sections  into  which  the  Poem  is  divided.] 


1.  The  Poem  here  presented,  is  intended  to  be  simply 
historical  and  religious.  Therefore  it  has  been  the  writer's 
aim  to  conform  strictly  to  facts,  throughout, — according  to 
the  best  authorities  within  his  reach ;  and  to  follow  a  strictly 
chronological  order.  It  will  be  seen  that  the  History  of  Je- 
rusalem is  wonderfully  suggestive ;  being,  in  fact,  the  nucleus 
of  the  History  of  the  World.  It  is  linked  with  the  Histoiy 
of  Egypt,  Babylon,  and  Assyria ;  with  that  of  Persia,  Greece 
and  Rome ;  with  that  of  the  Mohammedan  conquests  in  the 
East ;  and  with  that  of  the  Christian  nations  in  the  West,  at 
least  through  the  Middle  Ages.  And  its  Prophetic  History 
doubtless  reaches  to  the  Millennium  ;  as  it  is  also  a  type  of 
the  New  Jerusalem,  so  glowingly  described  in  the  conclud- 
ing chapters  of  the  Apocalypse. 

3.  See  Genesis,  chapter  xiv. ;  from  the  third  verse  of  which 
it  appears  that  the  cities  of  Sodom,  Gomorrah,  Admah,  and 
Zeboini  were  situated  in  the  vale  of  Siddim  ;  at  the  southern 
extremity  of  which  was  the  city  of  Bela,  or  Zoar ;  and  by 
the  destruction  of  the  former  cities,  and  submersion  of  their 
site,  this  valley  was  converted  into  the  Salt,  or  Dead  Sea. — 
The  name  of  MelchizedeTc  is  derived  from  the  Hebrew 
words,  melech,  king;  and  zedeJc,  righteousness:  and  the 
name  Salem,  is  the  Hebrew  word  for  peace  ;  whence  comes 
the  oriental  salutation,  "  Salaam"  i.  e.  tk  Peace  be  with  you.'1 
(See  Hebrews,  vii.  1,  2.) — The  learned  Bishop  Patrick,  in  his 


11  NOTES    TO 

excellent  Commentary,  maintains  that  the  Salem  above  re- 
ferred to,  was  not  Jerusalem,  but  a  town  on  the  east  side  of 
the  river  Jordan,  called  Salim  in  St.  John's  Gospel,  chap.  iii. 
v.  23.  But  Josephus,  in  his  Jewish  War,  Book  vi.,  chap,  x.,  ex- 
pressly declares  that  Melchizedek  built  Jerusalem  ;  (accord- 
ing to  Calmet,  2023  b.  c.  ;)  and  this  is  the  statement  most 
commonly  received. 

4.  See  Genesis,  chap.  xxii.  That  the  Moriah  here  referred 
to,  is  the  same  on  which  the  temple  was  afterwards  built  by 
Solomon,  is  expressly  declared  by  Josephus,  in  his  Antiquities 
of  the  Jews,  Book  i.,  chap.  xiii.  This  mountain  was  then  no 
part  of  Jerusalem,  though  near  it,  and  afterwards  included 
within  its  walls.  The  designation  of  this  place  for  the  sacri- 
fice of  Isaac,  was  doubtless  a  divine  intimation  of  the  holy 
use  to  which  it  should  afterwards  be  applied. — The  virtual 
sacrifice  of  Isaac  took  place,  according  to  Archbishop  Usher's 
Chronology,  which  is  commonly  received,  1872  years  before 
the  Christian  Era;  but  according  to  Dr.  Jarvis,  whom  we 
prefer  to  follow,  it  took  place  1885  b.  c. 

5.  See  Joshua,  chap.  x. ;  also  chap,  xv.,  63 ;  and  Judges, 
xix.  10.  Calmet,  in  his  Dictionary  of  the  Holy  Bible,  article 
Jerusalem,  states  that  the  Jebusites  captured  this  city,  about 
a  century  after  its  foundation,  and  built  a  citadel  on  Mount 
Zion. — The  similarity  of  the  names  of  Melchizedek  and 
of  Adoni-zedek,  (king  of  righteousness,  and  lord  of  right- 
eousness,) affords  a  strong  presumption  that  as  the  latter  was 
a  king  of  Jerusalem,  so  also  was  the  former. — The  city  was 
taken  by  Joshua,  1450,  or  according  to  Dr.  Jarvis,  about 
1463  b.  c. — Calmet  has  a  long  argument  to  prove  that  Je- 
rusalem was  regarded  as  a  holy  place  before  it  became  the 
site  of  the  temple ;  and  Josephus  says  that  Melchizedek  gave 
the  city  its  present  name.  But  the  name  Jerusalem  first 
occurs  in  Joshua,  chap.  x. ;  and,  as  Bishop  Patrick  observes, 


NOTES    TO    "JERUSALEM.  11] 

appears  to  have  been  given  to  the  city  by  the  Israelites. 
The  name  is  probably  derived  from  the  Hebrew,  Jems  the\ 
shall  see  ;  and  Salem,  peace :  but  the  Greek  form  of  the  name. 
Hierosolyma,  is  evidently  compounded  of  the  word  Meros, 
holy;  probably  by  a  corruption  of  the  Hebrew,  to  make  ii 
significant.     (Anthon,  Class.  Diet.) 

6.  See  1  Samuel,  xvii.  54;  and  xxi.  9.  The  ark  of  the 
Lord  appears  to  have  been  kept  at  this  time  in  the  house  of 
Abinadab,  in  Gibeuh,  which  signifies  the  hill,  of  Kirjath 
Jearim ;  (2  Sam.  vi.  3,  and  1  Chron.  xiii.  6,  7 ;)  but  Ahime- 
lech,  the  high  priest,  resided  at  ]S"ob,  near  Kirjath  Jearim, 
and  north-west  of  Jerusalem,  where  the  holy  tabernacle 
was  probably  then  standing,  as  Ahimelech  could  only  fur- 
nish David  with  show-bread,  taken  from  the  holy  table.  (1 
Sam.  xxi.  6.)  The  stronghold  of  Zion  was  taken,  for  David, 
by  Joab,  1048,  or  according  to  Dr.  Jarvis,  1062  b.  c.  (1 
Chron.  xi.  6.)  This  was  about  fifteen  years  after  the  death 
of  Goliath. 

8.  See  2  Samuel,  oh.  xxiv. ;  1  Chronicles,  oh.  xxi. ;  and 
2  Chron.  iii.  1.  That  Mount  Moriah  should  have  been 
divinely  appointed  as  the  place  for  David's  sacrifice,  is  an- 
other proof  of  its  holy  character,  both  retrospective  and 
prospective.  Araunah  is  thought  to  have  been  a  descendant 
of  the  ancient  royal  family  of  the  Jebusites ;  and  Calmet, 
(Art.  Jerusalem,)  conjectures  that  the  name  Oman  was  given 
to  him  by  the  Israelites. 

9.  See  1  Kings,  chapters  v.,  vi.,  and  vii. ;  and  2  Chronicles, 
chapters  ii.,  iii.,  iv.,  and  v.  The  silence  observed  in  building 
the  temple  was  doubtless  significant  of  God's  operation  in  the 
human  heart,  as  also  of  the  peace  and  quietness  which  should 
prevail  in  the  Christian  church.     (1  Kings,  vi.  7.) 

in.  The  blowing  of  the  Sabbath  horn  is  mentioned  by 


IV  NOTES    TO    "JERUSALEM. 

Josephus  in  his  "  Jewish  "War,"  Book  iv.,  ch.  ix.  It  took  place 
at  the  beginning  and  end  of  the  Sabbath  day ;  that  is  to  say, 
at  sunset,  on  Friday  and  Saturday  evenings. — The  cloisters 
of  the  temple  are  supposed  to  have  presented  high  walls  on 
the  exterior,  enclosing  a  large  square  ;  while  on  the  interior 
they  were  open,  with  roofs  supported  by  colonnades,  forming 
a  covered  walk  all  around  the  enclosed  courts.  The  typical 
character  of  the  furniture  of  the  temple  is  too  evident  to 
need  argument,  while  it  adds  dignity  to  the  place  itself. 
For  a  more  full  description  of  the  temple,  see  the  Commenta- 
ries, or  Home's  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  the  Bible ;  as 
also  Josephus,  Calmet,  etc.  The  name  Shechinah,  (or  Sheki- 
nah,)  signifying  the  dwelling,  or  abiding,  is  nowhere  found  in 
the  Bible,  but  is  much  used  by  Jewish  writers  to  denote  the 
visible  manifestation  of  God's  presence  by  a  cloud  of  super- 
natural light,  such  as  appeared  above  the  mercy-seat  in  the 
temple. 

11.  See  1  Kings,  ch.  viii. ;  and  2  Chronicles,  chapters  vi. 
and  vii.  The  temple  was  seven  years  in  building,  and  was 
completed  1004,  or  according  to  Dr.  Jarvis,  1018  b.  c. 

12.  Shishak  is  called  Sesonchis  by  the  Greeks,  and  She- 
shonk  on  the  Egyptian  monuments ;  one  of  which,  at  Karnac, 
represents  him  carrying  the  Jews  into  captivity.  (Enc.  Am.) 
This  event  took  place  971,  or  according  to  Dr.  Jarvis,  983,  b.  o. 
See  1  Kings,  xiv.  25,  6 ;  and  2  Chron.  ch.  xii. — Joash,  king 
of  Israel,  is  also  called  Jehoash ;  and  he  began  to  reign  be- 
fore the  death  of  Joash,  king  of  Judah,  who  was  the  father  of 
Amaziah.     See  2  Kings,  xiv.  8-20 ;  and  2  Chron.  xxv.  14-28. 

13.  The  destruction  of  Sennacherib's  army  took  place  712 
b.  o.  See  2  Kings,  ch.  xviii.  from  verse  13 ;  and  ch.  xix. ; 
also,  2  Chron.  xxxii.  to  verse  23  ;  and  Isaiah,  chapters  xxxvi. 
and  xxx vii.  Manasseh  was  carried  away  to  Babylon  about 
076  b.  c.  according  to  Calmet,  and  Dr.  Jarvis.     See  2  Chron. 


NOTES    TO    "JERUSALEM.  V 

ch.  xxxiii.  Josiah  fell  at  Megiddo,  610  b.  c.  See  2  Kings, 
xxiii.  29;  and  2  Chron.  xxxv.  20-5.  Pharaoh  Necho,  (or 
Neko,)  on  his  way  returning  to  Egypt,  took  Jerusalem,  and 
imposed  a  fine  upon  it,  in  consequence  of  Josiah's  rash  inter- 
ference. 

14.  See  2  Kings,  chapters  xxiv.  and  xxv. ;  and  2  Chron. 
ch.  xxxvi.  It  will  be  seen  that  Nebuchadnezzar  twice  hum- 
bled Jerusalem  before  destroying  it.  Eliakim,  who  had  been 
placed  on  the  throne  by  Necho,  under  the  name  of  Jehoiakim, 
was  threatened  with  captivity,  but  allowed  to  remain  on  the 
throne  by  paying  heavy  tribute ;  and  his  son  and  successor, 
Jehoiachin,  was  carried  away  to  Babylon,  before  the  final 
rebellion  of  Zechariah,  the  last  king  of  Judah, 

15.  Jerusalem  was  finally  taken  and  devastated,  by  Nebu- 
chadnezzar, 586  b.  c. 

16.  See  the  beautiful  lamentation  of  the  captive  Jews,  in 
Psalm  cxxxvii. 

17.  Belshazzar  was  slain,  and  Babylon  taken  by  Cyrus. 
536  b.  c.  See  Daniel,  ch.  v.,  observing  that  Cyrus  com- 
manded the  army  of  his  uncle,  Darius  the  Mede ;  on  whose 
death,  soon  after,  he  became  sole  monarch  of  the  Persian 
empire.  The  seventy  years  of  captivity,  foretold  by  Jere- 
miah, (Jer.  xxv.  11-2,  and  xxix.  10,)  and  revealed  more  ex- 
plicitly to  Daniel,  (Dan.  ix.  2,)  may  be  dated,  as  the  writer 
thinks,  from  605  b.  c,  when  Jerusalem  Avas  first  taken  by 
Nebuchadnezzar,  and  ceased  to  be  independent,  to  535  b.  c, 
the  year  in  which  the  Jews  probably  returned  to  the  Holy 
Land,  rather  than  in  536.  See  Ezra,  i.  1,  where  the  first 
year  of  Cyrus  may  naturally  extend  into  the  year  535, 
though  he  conquered  Babylon  in  536.  Or  else  we  must 
suppose  that  Jerusalem  was  taken  606  b.  c,  instead  of  605, 
which  does  not  accord  so  well  with  the  best  chronologists. 


VI  .  NOTES    TO    "  JERUSALEM. 

By  a  remarkable  coincidence,  it  was  also  jnst  seventy  years 
from  the  destruction  of  the  first  temple,  576  b.  c,  to  the  com- 
pletion of  the  second  temple,  516  b.  c.     See  Ezra,  eh.  vi. 

18.  See  Josephus,  "Antiquities  of  the  Jews,*' Book  xi. 
ch.  viii.  His  account  of  the  visit  of  Alexander  to  the  temple 
in  Jerusalem,  has  been  doubted  by  some  writers ;  but,  as  it 
Mould  seem,  without  sufficient  cause.  That  visit  was  made 
332  b.  c. 

19.  See  Josephus,  "Antiquities  of  the  Jews,"  Book  xii., 
chapters  i.  and  ii.  The  account  of  the  Septuagint  translation 
has  also  been  doubted ;  but  it  is  substantially  adopted  by  the 
highest  authorities,  including  Dr.  Jar  vis,  in  his  admirable 
work,  "  The  Church  of  the  Eedeemed."  Ptolemy  Soter,  the 
son  of  Lagus,  took  Jerusalem,  312  b.  c,  and  the  Septuagint 
translation  was  made  under  Ptolemy  Philadelphus,  about  280 
b.  c.     (Dr.  Jarvis.) 

20.  See  Josephus,  Antiquities,  Book  xii.,  chapters  v-ix.  in- 
clusive ;  also  1  Maccabees,  chap  i.,  and  2  Maccabees,  chap.  v. 
Antiochus  Epiphanes  took  Jerusalem,  169  b.  c.  :  but  it  was 
recovered  by  Judas  Maccabeus,  and  the  temple  worship  re- 
stored, 165  b.  c. ;  Antiochus  dying  in  the  following  year. 

21.  See  Josephus,  Antiquities,  Book  xiv.  chapters  iii.,  iv., 
viii.,  xii.,  xiv.,  and  xvi.  Pompey  the  Great  took  Jerusalem,  63 
b.  c. ;  but  was  himself  defeated  by  Julius  Ca?sar,  at  Pharsalia, 
48  b.  c,  and  assassinated  the  same  year.  (So  say  most  chro- 
nologists;  though  Dr.  Jarvis  places  these  events  one  year 
earlier.)  Antipater,  the  father  of  Herod  the  Great,  gained 
the  favor  of  Julius  Coesar  by  assisting  him  in  his  war  against 
Egypt,  after  the  death  of  Pompey.  Julius  Caesar  was  himself 
assassinated,  44  b.  c. ;  and  Herod,  by  the  favor  of  Mark 
Anthony,  was  proclaimed  by  the  Roman  Senate  king  of  the 
Jews,  40  or  41  b.  c.  ;  three  years  after  which  he  took  the 
city  of  Jerusalem.     And  although  Anthony  was  defeated  at 


NOTES    TO    " JERUSALEM. '  YU 

Actium,  81  b.  c,  still  Herod  had  the  address  to  obtain  the  favor 
of  Augustus ;  and  thus  he  continued  to  he  the  king  of  the 
Jews,  until  his  death,  two  years,  or  according  to  Dr.  Jarvis, 
four  years  before  the  vulgar  Christian  Era,  from  which  we 
reckon  time.  It  should  be  remembered  that  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  was  born  four  years,  or  according  to  Dr.  Jarvis,  in  the 
sixth  year  before  the  Christian  era ;  which  was  miscalculated 
by  Dionysius  Exiguus,  who  first  introduced  the  use  of  it, 
about  the  year  of  our  Lord  526  ;  so  that  Herod  died  before  the 
Christian  Era,  but  after  the  birth  of  Christ,  and  massacre  of 
the  babes  of  Bethlehem. 

22.  See  St.  Matthew,  chap.  ii.  Bethlehem  was  about  six 
miles  south  of  Jerusalem  ;  and  near  it  was  the  tomb  of 
Rachel ;  who  might  thus  well  be  represented  as  weeping  for 
her  children.  (See  Genesis,  xxxv.  19.)  The  original  proph- 
ecy, Jeremiah,  xxxi.  15,  doubtless  referred  to  the  Babylonian 
captivity ;  but  was  here  fulfilled  anew.  Ramah  was  about 
six  miles  north  of  Jerusalem ;  but  as  the  name  ramah,  in  He- 
brew, signifies  a  hill,  it  may  here  refer  to  the  hill  or  high 
ground  where  Rachel  was  buried. 

23.  See  St.  Matthew,  chap.  xxi. ;  and  the  parallel  passages. 
The  name  Immanuel,  is  compounded  of  El,  a  contraction  of 
Elohim,  signifying  God;  and  immanu,  signifying  with  us; 
the  termination  nu,  being  the  Hebrew  sutfix  for  vs. — The 
word  Hosanna  is  compounded  of  the  verb  hosea,  to  save ; 
and  the  particle  na,  used  in  solicitation,  and  signifying  now, 
or  I pray  you  :  hence  it  was  probably  used  as  a  prayer  to  the 
Saviour,  rather  than  for  him. — Hallelujah,  (Greek  form  alle- 
luia,) is  compounded  of  hallelu,  praise  ye,  from  the  verb 
hallel,  to  praise  ;  and  Jah,  contracted  from  Jehovah,  the  Lord. 
See  Haggai,  ii.  7 ;  and  Habakkuk,  ii.  20. 

24.  See  St.  Matthew,  chapters  xxvi.  and  xxvii.,  and  the 
parallel  passages.     The  crucifixion  of  our  blessed  Saviour 


Vlll  NOTES    TO    "JERUSALEM." 

took  place  a.  d.  33 ;  or  according  to  Dr.  Jarvis,  in  the  28th 
year  of  the  vulgar  Era,  (a.  d.  28.)  About  seven  years 
afterwards,  Pontius  Pilate  was  removed  from  his  office  by 
Yitellius,  prefect  of  Syria  ;  and  sent  to  Rome  to  answer  the 
charges  against  him  for  cruelty  and  extortion ;  but  arriving 
there  after  the  death  of  Tiberius,  he  was  banished  by  Calig- 
ula to  Yienne,  in  Gaul,  on  the  river  Rhone,  and  there  he  is 
said  to  have  committed  suicide,  a.  d.  40.  (Calmet,  and  Enc. 
Americana.)  The  tradition  that  Pilate  died  on  Mount  Pilatus, 
near  Lucerne  in  Switzerland,  is  doubtless  a  mistake,  origina- 
ting in  the  name  of  the  mountain ;  a  name  probably  derived 
from  the  Latin,  pileus,  a  cap,  because  it  is  so  often  capped 
with  clouds. 

25.  See  St.  Matthew,  chap,  xxviii.,  and  parallel  passages, 
including  Acts,  ch.  i.  See  slso  Psalms  lxviii.  17,  18,  and 
xxiv.  7-10 ;  and  1  Corinthians,  xv.  24,  25. 

26.  See  Josephus,  Jewish  War,  Book  vi.,  chap,  v.,  for  an 
account  of  these  wonderful  omens ;  which  are  also  strikingly 
portrayed  in  Croly's  "Salathiel." 

27.  The  incident  here  introduced,  is  almost  the  only  one 
in  the  Poem,  which  rests  on  no  historic  authority ;  but  for 
which  poetic  license  is  solicited. 

28.  This  section  of  the  Poem  was  written  many  years 
since,  in  Philadelphia;  and  then  laid  aside,  owing  to  the 
writer's  conscious  inability  to  do  justice  to  the  subject ;  until 
he  ventured  recently  to  resume  it.  The  "flaming  sword," 
here  referred  to,  is  that  mentioned  by  Josephus,  as  last  above 
quoted. 

29.  See  Eusebius,  Eccl.  History,  Book  iii.  chap.  v.  Pella, 
to  which  the  Christians  retired,  was  a  town  east  of  the  river 
Jordan  and  south-east  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee ;  being  one  of 


NOTES    TO    "  JERUSALEM.  IX 

the  Decapolis,  or  ten  associated  cities  in  the  neighborhood. 
This  retreat  of  the  Christians  was  in  accordance  with  our 
Lord's  directions ;  St.  Matthew,  xxiv.  15-17,  and  parallel 
passages. 

30.  The  topography  of  the  environs  of  Jerusalem,  here  in- 
troduced, rests  chiefly  on  the  maps  in  the  "  Comprehensive 
Commentary,"  and  the  "Encyclopedia  of  Religious  Knowl- 
edge," giving  the  ancient  Hebrew  names  of  the  surrounding 
objects;  corroborated  by  Palmer's  "Bible  Atlas."  Calmet's 
map,  strangely,  represents  the  brook  Cedron  as  turning 
south-westward,  on  leaving  Jerusalem;  whereas  its  course  is 
nearly  eastward.  The  skeleton  maps  in  Home's  "Introduc- 
tion to  the  Study  of  the  Scriptures,"  and  in  Butler's  "Class- 
ical Atlas,"  represent  Jerusalem  most  nearly  as  it  was  in  the 
days  of  our  Saviour's  mission,  with  the  walls  and  towers 
built  by  Herod.  (See  Josephus,  Jewish  War,  Book  v.,  chapter 
iv.)  Catherwood's  map,  representing  the  modern  city,  from 
actual  survey,  is  doubtless  the  most  accurate  yet  published. 
(See  Supplement  to  Compr.  Commentary,  end  of  Concor- 
dance.) 

31.  Josephus,  "Jewish  War,"  Book  vi.,  ch.  ix.,  in  summing 
up  the  number  of  Jews  who  perished  in  Jerusalem  by  this 
siege, — which  number  was  eleven  hundred  thousand, — ex- 
pressly states  that  they  had  come  up  from  all  the  country  to 
the  feast  of  the  passover,  and  were  suddenly  shut  in  by  the 
Roman  army. 

33.  See  Josephus,  "  Jewisli  War,"  Book  iv.,  chapters  lii. 
and  vii. ;  and  Book  v.,  ch.  iii.  John  of  Gischala  here  appears 
as  one  of  the  most  odious  compounds  of  tyranny  and  vice 
which  can  well  be  imagined. 

34.  See  as  above,  Book  iv.,  ch.  ix.,  and  Book  v.,  ch.  vi. 
Simon  Ben  Gioras,  on  Mount  Zion,  was  a  fit  counterpart  of 
John  of  Gischala  in  the  temple. 


X  NOTES    TO    "JERUSALEM. 

35.  See  as  above,  Book  v.,  chapters  x.  and  xii.,  and  Book 
vi..  ch.  iii.  Thus,  at  last,  was  fulfilled  the  awful  prophecy 
recorded  in  Deuteronomy,  xxviii.  53-7. 

36.  See  as  above,  Book  v.,  ch.  vi.,  which  is  also  authority 
for  the  next  section. 

38.  See  as  above,  Book  v.,  ch.  vii.  The  main  attack  appears 
to  have  been  from  the  west,  where  the  wall  was  double. 

39.  See  as  above,  Book  vi.,  ch.  i.  The  tower  of  Antonia, 
adjoining  the  north-west  corner  of  the  courts  of  the  temple, 
was  both  a  castle  and  a  palace,  built  by  Herod  the  Great, 
and  named  by  him  in  honor  of  his  friend,  Mark  Anthony. 
(Antiquities,  Book  xv.,  ch.  xi.) 

40.  See  as  above,  Book  vi.,  ch.  ii.  The  conduct  here  at- 
tributed to  John,  is  in  accordance  with  his  character,  as  pre- 
viously drawn  by  Josephus. 

41.  See  as  above,  Book  vi.,  ch.  iii.  Lucius  was  the  soldier 
who  attempted  to  receive  Arteritis  in  his  arms,  from  above, 
and  so  perished. 

42.  See  as  above,  Book  vi.,  ch.  iv.  Dr.  Jarvis  states  that 
the  temple  was  burnt  on  Sunday,  July  16,  a.  d.  69.  (Church 
of  the  Redeemed,  p.  585.) 

43.  See  as  above,  Book  vi.,  chapters  viii.  and  ix.  Simon 
was  condemned  to  death  as  the  chief  commander,  having 
been  master  of  the  greater  part  of  the  city,  and  with  a  much 
larger  force  than  that  of  John.  The  date  commonly  assigned 
to  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  is  a.  d.  70  ;  but  according  to 
Dr.  Jarvis,  it  took  place  a.  p.  69,  and  the  triumph  of  Titus 
was  celebrated  in  Rome  in  the  following  year. 

44.  See  as  above,  Book  vii.  ch.  i.,  which  is  also  an  author- 
ity for  the  statement  next  following. 


NOTES    TO    '"JERUSALEM.  XI 

45.  See  the  "Edinburgh  Encyclopaedia,"  and  Enc.  Amer- 
icana." on  Jerusalem.  The  three  towers  referred  to  stood 
on  the  northern  brow  of  Mount  Zion,  and  were  named  by 
Herod,  Hippicus,  Phasaelus,  and  Mariamne ;  in  honor  of  a 
friend,  a  brother,  and  a  wife.  (Jewish  War,  Book  v.,  ch.  iv.) 
The  chief  leader  of  the  Jewish  insurrection  was  Bar  Choche- 
bas,  an  adventurer  who  took  this  name,  signifying  the  son  of 
a  star,  in  reference  to  the  prophecy  of  Balaam,  Xumbers 
xxiv.  17.  He  claimed  to  be  the  Messiah,  and  revolted  from 
the  Roman  government,  a.  d.  136,  but  was  soon  defeated  and 
put  to  death.  "When  the  emperor  Adrian  rebuilt  Jerusalem, 
about  this  time,  or  somewhat  earlier,  he  gave  it  the  name  of 
JElia  from  his  own  family  name  iElius,  and  Capitolina  from 
a  temple  which  he  built  there  to  Jupiter  Capitolinus.  The 
name  Jerusalem  was  restored  by  Constantine  the  Great. 
(Calmet,  on  Bar  Chochebas,  and  JElia  Capitolina.) 

46.  The  empress  Helena,  mother  of  Constantine  the  Great, 
made  a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem,  and  is  said  to  have  found 
the  true  cross  on  which  Christ  was  crucified ;  though  this 
may  well  be  doubted.  (Murdock's  Mosheim,  i.,  259,  note.) 
She  built  the  church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  about  a.  d.  326, 
and  Julian  the  apostate  attempted  to  rebuild  the  temple  a.  d. 
363.  (Calmet  on  Jerusalem,  and  the  Encyclopaedias  on  Ju- 
lian.) The  fact  concerning  the  eruption  of  fire-balls,  rests  not 
only  on  the  testimony  of  contemporaneous  Christian  writers, 
but  is  confirmed  by  Ammianus  Marcellinus,  a  heathen  histo- 
rian, and  friend  of  the  emperor. 

47.  Jerusalem  was  taken  by  Chosroes,  a.  d.  613,  and  re- 
covered by  Heraclius,  a.  d.  627.  (Calmet,  and  Ed.  Encyclo- 
paedia, on  Jerusalem.) 

48.  Jerusalem  was  taken  by  the  caliph  Omar,  a.  d.  636. 
(The  same,  and  Murdock's  Mosheim,  i.  440,  note  ;  which 
makes  Omar's  conquest  one  year  later.)  Ahmed,  the  Turkish 


Xll  NOTES    TO 

sovereign  of  Egypt,  took  Jerusalem  from  the  caliph  of  Bag- 
dad, a.  d.  868.     (Calmet.) 

49.  Togrul  Beg,  the  khan  of  the  Seljooks,  from  Turkestan, 
took  Bagdad  a.  d.  1055,  and  thus  Jerusalem  fell  into  his 
hands.  (Enc.  Am.  ii.  412,  and  Ed.  Encyclopae.,  on  Bagdad  and 
the  Crusades.) 

51.  The  first  Crusade  was  led  by  Peter  the  Hermit,  a 
fanatic  monk  of  Amiens,  in  France,  under  the  patronage  of 
pope  Urban  II.,  a.  d.  1096.  (See  Mosheim  and  the  Ency- 
clopedias and  Histories  generally,  on  the  Crusades;  espec- 
ially Kobbins,  ii.,  129,  for  the  incident  last  mentioned.) 

52.  Godfrey  of  Bouillon  led  his  army  through  Germany 
and  Hungary,  while  Kobert  of  Normandy  led  his  forces 
through  Italy,  and  crossed  the  Gulf  of  Venice  to  Greece ; 
but  they  met  in  Constantinople,  and,  passing  into  xisia,  took 
Nice,  in  1097;  Antioch,  in  1098;  and  Jerusalem,  a.  d.  1099. 
(Murdock's  Mosheim,  ii.,  142.) 

54.  The  name  Paynim,  though  derived  from  the  Latin 
jKiganus,  a  pagan  or  worshipper  of  idols,  is  chiefly,  if  not 
solely,  applied  to  the  Mohammedans. 

56.  The  second  crusade  was  preached  by  St.  Bernard, 
abbot  of  Clairvaux,  in  France,  under  the  auspices  of  pope 
Eugene  III.,  and  it  took  place  a.  d.  1147 ;  though  the  mon- 
archs  Conrad  III.  of  Germany,  and  Louis  VII.  of  France,  did 
not  reach  Jerusalem  until  the  following  year.  (Murdock' 
Mosheim,  ii.,  212.)  Their  armies  were  successively  defeated 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Laodicea,  partly,  as  it  is  thought, 
through  the  treachery  of  Manuel,  the  Greek  emperor. 

57.  Saladin,  (or  Salaheddin,)  succeeded  his  uncle,  Sira- 
couh,  as  commander  of  the  Syrian  army  in  Egypt ;  of  which 
country  he  soon  made  himself  master.     Thence,  attacking 


NOTES    TO    "JERUSALEM.  Xlll 

the  Christians  in  Palestine,  he  defeated  them,  and  took  pris- 
oner their  king,  Guy  of  Lusignan,  in  the  fatal  battle  of 
Tiberias,  near  the  river  Jordan,  a.  d.  1187.  He  took  Jeru- 
salem, the  same  year.  (Mosheim,  as  above ;  and  Ed.  Ency- 
clopaedia on  the  Crusades,  and  Eygpt.) 

59.  It  needed  all  the  influence  of  pope  Clement  III.,  to 
induce  the  sovereigns  of  Europe  to  commence  the  third  cru- 
sade. Frederick  I.  the  emperor  of  Germany,  surnamed  Bar- 
barossa,  from  the  red  color  of  his  beard,  took  the  field,  a.  d. 
1189 ;  and  died  in  consequence  of  bathing  in  the  river  Cyd- 
nus,  in  Cilicia ;  or,  as  others  say,  in  the  Calycadnus ;  and 
other  authorities  say  in  the  river  Salef,  (or  Saleph,)  near 
Seleucia,  in  Syria.  (Blake's  Biog.  Dictionary;  Gieseler's 
Eccl.  History  ;  Ed.  Enc.  on  the  Crusades  ;  Robbins'  History  ? 
Enc.  Am.  on  Frederick  ;  and  Mosheim.) 

60.  Philip  Augustus,  king  of  France  and  Richard  Coeur- 
de-Lion,  king  of  England,  united  in  the  third  crusade,  a.  d. 
1190.  Richard  stopped  on  the  way,  to  subdue  the  island  of 
Cyprus ;  but  joined  Philip,  and  the  remnant  of  Frederick's 
army,  at  Acre,  in  the  same  year,  (Enc.  Am.  on  Philip,  and 
Richard.) 

61.  Ptolemais  is  better  known  by  its  modern  name  of 
Acre,  or  St.  Jean  d'Acre,  having  reference  to  the  knights  of 
St.  John,  of  whom  it  was  long  the  chief  seat.  It  is  a  seaport 
north  of  Mount  Carmel,  and  memorable  for  having  been  be- 
sieged in  vain  by  Bonaparte. 

62.  Baldwin,  count  of  Flanders,  in  the  fourth  crusade, 
sailed  with  his  army  to  Constantinople,  a.  d.  1203  ;  but  hav- 
ing obtained  the  control  of  that  city,  as  emperor,  in  the  fol- 
lowing year,  he  went  no  farther. — The  fifth  crusade  appears 
to  have  been  commanded  at  first  by  Andrew,  king  of  Hun- 
gary; but,  on  his  withdrawal,  the  command  was  given  to 


XIV  NOTES    TO 

Count  John  de  Brienne,  who  had  received  the  title  of  king 
of  Jerusalem;  and  who  took  Damietta,  a.  d.  1220.  (Wor- 
cester's Elements  of  History,  Mosheim  and  Ed.  Enc.  on  the 
Crusades.) 

03.  Frederick  II.,  emperor  of  Germany,  surnamed  Hohen- 
staufen,  having  married  the  daughter  of  the  Count  de  Brienne, 
sailed  to  Palestine,  and  by  a  negotiation  with  Al  Camel,  or 
Melic  Camel,  sultan  of  Eygpt,  he  obtained  possession  of  Je- 
rusalem, a.  d.  1229  ;  and  was  crowned  there  as  its  king. 
(Mosheim,  and  Ed.  Enc.  on  Egypt,  and  the  Crusades.) — Louis 
IX.  of  France,  known  as  St.  Louis,  led  a  crusade  against 
Egypt,  a.  d.  1248 ;  and  against  Tunis,  a.  d.  1270,  where  he 
died  of  the  plague ;  his  ultimate  object,  in  each  instance,  be- 
ing the  recovery  of  Jerusalem,  which  had  now  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  the  Tartars. 

64.  Ptolemais,  now  Acre,  the  last  town  in  Palestine  held 
by  the  Christians,  was  taken  from  them  by  the  sultan  of 
Egypt,  a.  d.  1291 ;  and  thus  ended  the  Christian  kingdom 
in  the  holy  land.     (Murdochs  Mosheim,  ii.  281.) 

6G.  Tamerlane,  the  Tartar  conqueror,  defeated  and  cap- 
tured Bajazet,  the  Turkish  sultan,  in  a  great  battle  near  An- 
evra,  in  Galatia,  a.  d.  1402.  (Enc.  Am.  on  Bajazet.) — A 
great  battle  was  fought  near  Aleppo,  where  the  Turkish 
sultan  Selim  defeated  the  sultan  of  Egypt,  Toman  Bey,  and 
thus  became  master  of  Jerusalem  and  the  Holy  Land,  a.  d. 
1517.  The  present  walls  of  Jerusalem  were  built  by  Soly- 
man,  the  son  of  Selim,  in  1534.  (Calmet,  on  Jerusalem  ;  and 
Ed.  Enc.  on  Egypt.) 

67.  The  Muezzin  is  the  crier  who  summons  the  Mohamme- 
dans to  prayer.  For  a  description  of  Jerusalem  as  it  now  is, 
see  the  accounts  of  various  modern  travellers,  some  of  which 
are  quoted  by  Calmet,  and  the  Encyclopaedias  ;  and  especially 


NOTES    TO    "JERUSALEM.  XV 

see  "  The  Pathways  and  Abiding  Places  of  our  Lord,"  by 
the  lamented  Bishop  \Yaiiiwright. 

68.  See  Psalm  exlvii.  2 ;  and  Isaiah,  li.  3,  and  lx.  8-10. 
It  is  here  assumed,  at  least  as  a  probability,  that  Jerusalem 
shall  yet  be  rebuilt ;  and  that  the  prophecies  of  its  future 
glory  shall  be  literally  fulfilled.  Are  there  not  indications 
to  this  effect,  in  the  events  now  transpiring  in  the  East  \ 

69.  See  Isaiah,  chap,  lx.,  especially  verses  17  and  18  ;  and 
various  other  prophecies  harmonizing  with  the  same. 

70.  See  the  description  of  the  new  Jerusalem  in  the  book 
of  Revelation,  chapters  xxi.  and  xxii.,  of  which  this  part  of 
the  Poem  is  designed  to  be  simply  a  transcript. 


THE      END.