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FROM  THE  LIBRARY  OF 
REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON,  D.  D. 

BEQUEATHED   BY   HIM  TO 

THE   LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


ofPHiiie^ 


y 


MY  NEIG 


/; 


NOV  20  1933 


A    STORY    IN    VERSE. 


WITH 


O  T  H  IE  IB,        PIECES 


ss 


BY  THOMAS  D.  JAMES. 


NEW  YORK: 

ROBERT  CARTER  &  BROTHERS, 

530  Broadway. 


COPYRIGHT, 
THOMAS     D.     JAMES, 


Ferguson  Bros.  &*  Co. ,  Press  of 

Stereotypers  and  Electrotyfert,  John  Wilson  &  Son, 

Philadelphia.  Cambridge,  Mass 


CONTENTS. 


MY  NEIGHBOR,  a  Story  in  Verse. 
Part  I :— Will  Deloring 
Part  II :— Very  Poor  and  Very  Rich 
Part  III :— The  Quaker  Maiden 
Part  IV : — Doubts  and  Encouragements 
Part  V :— The  Old  Factory 


27 
41 
54 
71 


OTHER  PIECES. 
Religious  Meditations  :— 

Noon  Beyond 85 

The  Winds            87 

Endless  and  Boundless 89 

The  Present 91 

The  Tower            94 

To  Be  and  To  Do 97 

Then  Face  to  Face 99 

Midwinter  Day            101 

Nothing  to  Do  but  to  Go 103 

The  Light  Within 105 

(3) 


CONTENTS. 

PAQB 

Trust  in  God  :— 

"What  is  That  to  Thee?" 108 

The  Bow  in  The  Cloud HI 

"  The  Evening  and  The  Morning  "    .        .        .        .113 

"  Not  my  Will " 115 

Majesty  and  Mercy 117 

The  Gold-Girt  Cloud 119 

Humble  Assurance 122 

The  Shining  Cross 124 

The  Blessed  Ending            126 

"  Nothing  Wavering " 128 

The  Sun-Flower 130 

Fraternal  and  Humane:— 

The  Blind  Match- Vender            131 

The  Sacred  Bond 136 

My  Brother 138 

Love's  Surgery             142 

Instinctive  Fraternity 144 

The  Sky-Light             147 

The  Captive  and  The  Bird 152 

Young  Persons  as  Chief  Actors  :— 

Friends  in  Need 157 

Cling  Close  to  Me 161 

The  Low-Built  Nest 164 

The  Name  in  The  Sand 167 

The  Prattler  Guide 170 


CONTENTS.  5 

PAQB 

My  Mother 174 

Happy  Jennie 177 

Miscellaneous  : — 

Temperance  Song 179 

The  Old-Tirae  Watchman           181 

Houstonia  Cerulea 181 

Opening  of  The  Sixth  Seal 186 

The  Mother's  Legacy 188 

The  Gipsy  "Wanderer,  a  Paraphrase  .        .        .        .191 

Weary  with  Travel 194 

Rural  Serenade 107 

Song  —  Gentle  Spirit,  Loved  and  Loving  .        .        .  199 

To  an  Unknown  Friend 200 


MY    NEIGHBOR, 


A  STORY  IN   VERSE. 


Fart   First 


WILL  DELOEING. 

The  sun  had  shed  his  setting  glow 
Of  glory  o'er  the  fields  of  snow, 
But,  slowly  sinking,  lingered  still 
With  parting  smile  on  snow-crowned  hill, 
Rested  a  moment  on  the  height, 
And  then,  descending,  bade  Good-Xight. 
Yet  distant  clouds  of  upper  skies 
(Scarce  seen  by  unobservant  eyes 
So  high  and  far  they  soared  away) 
Caught  later  glimpses  of  his  ray 
Speeding  to  ether-depths  profound, 
And  cast  them,  glittering,  to  the  ground. 
And  thus  no  sudden  change  was  made 
From  evening  shine  to  evening  shade; 
Had  you  not  watched  the  sinking  sun, 
Nor  listened  to  the  evening  gun, 

(9) 


10  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

So  gently  was  the  light  withdrawn 
You  might  not  know  the  day  was  gone. 

When  the  fond  mother  at  her  breast 

Has  soothed  and  sung  her  babe  to  rest, 

"With  gentle  rise  and  stealthy  tread, 

Moving  toward  the  cradle  bed, 

The  drooping  form  with  care  she  places 

Beneath  the  blanket's  warm  embraces. 

Faintly  and  yet  more  faintly  rise 

The  lowly  murmured  lullabies ; 

Gently  and  yet  more  gently  tip 

The  patting  fingers  winning  sleep  ; 

Till  hand  and  voice  no  longer  meet 

To  practise  love's  benign  deceit, 

But,  hand  withdrawn  and  voice  repressed, 

She  leaves  her  baby  to  its  rest, 

Unconscious  that  maternal  arms 

And  lullabies  have  ceased  their  charms. 

Thus,  slowly,  gently,  Evening  spread 

Her  misty  coverlet  of  shade 

O'er  all  the  weary  sons  of  toil 

Retiring  from  the  day's  turmoil. 


WILL    DELORIXG.  11 

As  stealthy  twilight  grew  apace, 

As  vanished  every  sunlit  trace, 

As  hastened  the  returning  host 

Of  crows  to  seek  the  nightly  roost, 

As  creatures  wont  afar  to  roam 

Sought  now  in  turn  the  sheltering  home, 

And  men  from  busy  cares  were  turning 

To  where  their  household  fires  were  burning, 

From  the  low  foot  of  steepy  street, 

Where  tide-waves  washed  the  city's  feet, 

A  steamboat  left  the  wharf-stayed  shore. 

Few  were  the  passengers  it  bore ; 

For  'tis  not  when  the  winds  grow  bleak 

A  rural  home  the  many  seek; 

Not  when  the  rude-mouthed  Boreas  blows  * 

The  swelling  tide  of  travel  flows, 

Nor  when  Orion  rules  the  night 

The  darkening  hours  abroad  invite. 

Yet  some  would  boldly  face  the  gale 
Even  when  wintry  storms  prevail, 
And,  from  the  city's  dust  and  din 
And  tug  of  toil,  their  way  would  win 


12  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

To  purer  air  and  wider  scene — 

What  though  the  unchecked  winds  are  keen, 

And  shrieking  blasts  besiege  their  cot ! 

They  know  their  voice  and  fear  them  not. 

Nor  is  he  lover  staunch  and  true 

"Who  only  the  loved  form  would  view 

Clad  in  her  costliest  attire, 

And  robed  as  Fashion's  hosts  require; 

But  him  the  sweetest  passions  press 

Who  seeks  her  in  her  chaste  undress, 

Who  wooes  her  in  her  homely  moods, 

And  seeks  her  in  her  solitudes. 

A  lingering  autumn's  tinted  haze 

Had  mellowed  all  December's  day3, 

And  claimed  the  streams  for  venturous  keel, 

By  icy  bonds  unfettered  still. 

And  though  the  stormy  winds  at  last 

Had  sown  tlHr  white  flakes  thick  and  fast, 

These  found  in  differing  wills  and  moods 

The  quiet  fields  and  restless  floods — 

The  land  a  peaceful  welcome  gave ; 

The  rivers,  a  vast  watery  grave. 


WILL    DELORING.  13 

And  still  they  flowed  in  victor  guise 
And  mirrored  back  exulting  skies  ; 
And  still  the  venturous  Water  Fay 
Plied  her  brief  voyage  day  by  day. 


Of  the  late  few  that  eve  who  sought 
A  homeward  travel  on  the  boat 
I  mark  but  one : — no  careless  glance 
Might  note  the  lofty  brow's  expanse, 
Or  find  beneath  the  plain  attire 
The  heart  and  brain  and  strength  and  fire 
That  waged,  in  proudest  manliness, 
Life's  eager  warfare  with  success ; 
Or  in  the  unwonted  downcast  mood 
That  signalled  deep  solicitude, 
Bearing  him  downward  to  the  dust, 
Serenest  hope,  profoundest  trust. 

But  Will  Deloring's  earliest  days 
Had  seen  him  led  in  wisdom's  ways, 
With  every  thought  and  every  power 
Squared  to  the  duties  of  the  hour. 


14  MY  NEIGHBOR. 

An  honest  sire  had  trained  the  boy 
In  useful  craft  to  seek  employ ; 
Had  ever  taught  his  son  to  find 
Delight  and  industry  combined  ; 
In  honor's  pathway  e'er  to  tread, 
And  in  that  peaceful  path  had  led. 
A  mother's  love  had  been  the  star 
To  lead  his  seeking  steps  from  far 
At  Bethlehem's  shrine  his  vows  to  pay, 
And  all  his  heart's  best  treasures  lay. 

Thus  trained  to  toil,  to  virtue  trained, 
He  fought  the  fight,  the  vantage  gained 
In  life's  sharp  contest.     Hand  of  skill, 
And  purpose  high,  and  strength  of  will, 
And  industry  unwearied,  brought 
The  honest  guerdon  that  he  sought 
To  meet  the  ever  growing  claim 
Of  loving  ones  that  bore  his  name. 


Not  lust  of  wealth,  nor  vulgar  greed, 
But  prudent  thought  for  future  need 


WILL   DELORING.  15 

Had  nerved  his  arm  and  taxed  his  mind 
Accruing  competence  to  find  ; 
And  heart  inflamed  with  patriot  zeal 
To  speed  his  struggling  country's  weal 
Had  made  him  join,  with  trust  complete, 
That  country's  pleading  wants  to  meet ; 
And  simple  bonds  with  promise  traced 
Attested  where  his  faith  he  placed. 

But  scarcely  shall  it  worthy  seem 
Of  muse — or  high  and  noble  theme — 
To  tell  of  constant  clouds  and  cares 
That  strife  of  worldly  purpose  wears ; 
Of  golden  sinews  that  unbar 
The  gates  of  peace  as  well  as  war  ; 
Of  banks  that  meet  the  wants  of  trade 
By  loans  on  trusted  sureties  made ; 
And  yet,  the  means  God's  hand  employs 
To  mete  us  out  our  cares  and  joys, 
To  help  us  on  our  toilsome  way 
And  shape  our  course  from  day  to  day, 
Are  still  His  means ;  nor  may  we  call 
His  mission  angels  base  or  small. 


16  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

"While  Will  Deloring  drove  apace 
His  winning  chariot  in  the  race, 
Increasing  thrift  required,  at  length, 
Of  golden  sinews  greater  strength, 
And  for  these  growing  needs,  the  funds 
Were  gained  on  borrower's  pledge  of  bonds, 
Which  la}7",  secure  for  chance  defaults, 
Within  the  bank's  well-guarded  vaults. 

Thus  striving  forward,  day  by  day, 

Through  sunny  fields  his  journey  lay* 

Until  a  sudden  bolt  of  dread 

Across  his  peaceful  sky  was  sped. 

That  morn  his  quiet  home  he  left, 

Unconscious  of  the  blackened  weft 

Malignant  shuttle  had,  o'ernight, 

Woven  across  his  web  of  white  ; 

But  when  the  newsboy's  morning  sheet 

He  scanned,  with  night's  dark  deeds  replete, 

He  learned,  that  while  the  watchmen  slept, 

Or  failed  in  guard  they  should  have  kept, 

The  bank  where  all  his  sureties  lay 

As  pledge  of  promises  to  pay — 


WILL    DELORING.  17 

To  this  a  burglar  band  had  gained 
Admittance,  and  the  vaults  had  drained. 
On  many  heavy  loss  would  fall; 
His  would  be  great — he  lost  his  all, 
And  near  the  shadowy  future  drew, 
With  bankruptcy  in  fullest  view. 

But  shattered  as  a  luckless  oak 

That  meets  the  lightning's  shivering  stroke, 

Yet  stoutly  braves  the  tempest  still, 

So  brave  Deloring  met  the  ill, 

Resolved  that  stroke  should  smite  but  one — 

To  bear  it,  keep  it,  all  his  own. 

And  as  at  twilight  hour  he  pressed 

Toward  his  peaceful  home  of  rest, 

Where  to  quick  listeners,  night  by  night, 

His  coming  footsteps  gave  delight, 

The  clamorous  thoughts  that  filled  his  mind, 

And  cares  he  feign  had  left  behind, 

He  still  was  seeking  to  repress 

Before  he  met  the  home  caress  ; 

For  well  he  knew  each  troublous  thought 

That  in  his  tell-tale  face  was  wrought, 


18  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

Or  care  allowed  his  mind  to  move, 
Would  well  be  scanned  by  looks  of  love. 

Rather  than  cabin-bound  remain 
Deloriug  sought  the  deck  to  gain, 
"Where  freer  air  and  view  more  free 
Might  yield  the  sought  tranquillity, 
Might  drive  away  each  haggard  trace 
That  care  had  furrowed  on  his  face. 
"Whate'er  his  griefs,  'twere  wisdom  now 
To  drive  their  footprints  from  his  brow, 
To  shut  them  sternly  from  his  view 
Whate'er  the  morrow  might  renew. 

He  paced  the  cold  deck  to  and  fro, 
In  rapid  stride  or  step  more  slow 
As  varying,  hurrying  thoughts  obtrude, 
Or  change  to  slower,  calmer  mood. 
Above  him,  as  the  deck  he  strode, 
The  ponderous  vibrant  beam  pursued 
Its  ceaseless  laboring  course,  and  drave 
The  vessel  through  the  yielding  wave  ; 


WILL    DELORING.  19 

While  swelling  with  its  deep  bass  tone 
The  monstrous  pipe  gave  forth  its  drone, 
Soothing  the  care-excited  mind 
To  music's  tractive  joys  inclined. 
He  felt  the  influence  of  the  sound 
That  filled  the  air  with  note  profound, 
And,  yielding  to  the  impulse  strong 
Of  key-note  swelling  loud  and  long, 
Deloring's  voice  broke  forth  in  song ; 
While  the  huge  pipe's  sonorous  throat 
Breathed  out  its  deep  symphonic  note. 

BONG. 

THE    RETURNING    BEE. 

The  restless  bee  on  venturous  wing 

Seeks  far  his  precious  spoil, 
Where  honeyed  flowers  their  fragrance  fling 

And  tempt  to  eager  toil. 
But  as  the  twilight  curtains  close, 

O'er  many  a  league  he  wends, 
To  seek  the  humble  hive's  repose 

Where  all  his  labor  ends. 


20  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

And  I,  when  daily  toils  are  o'er, 

Would  seek  my  distant  cell, 
"Where  all  I  love  beneath  the  sun 

And  all  that  love  me  dwell ; 
And  straight  and  swift  my  course  shall  prove, 

Like  that  of  hastening  bee, 
While  honey  lips  and  looks  of  love 

Do  wait  and  watch  for  me. 


And  now  the  steamer  landward  bore, 
The  landing  reached.     The  plank  ashore, 
The  living  freight  through  darkening  maze 
Soon  sped  them  on  their  several  ways, 
Nor  long  the  footworn  track  that  brought 
Deloring  to  the  home  he  sought. 


The  cottage  was  of  small  pretence, 
Rising  within  encircling  fence 
'Mid  trees  and  shrubs  now  stripped  and  bare, 
Or  covered  with  protecting  care 


WILL    DELORING.  21 

By  straw-wove  mantles,  thick  and  warm, 
Against  the  shock  of  cold  and  storm. 
Through  swinging  gate  the  pathway  bore 
That  led  him  to  the  cottage  door, 
Which  scarcely  oped,  a  loving  sprite 
Rushed  through  the  passage  with  delight, 
With  salutation  and  embrace 
To  meet  the  parent's  own  caress, 
And  give  the  first  warm,  welcome  kiss. 


Without  delay  he  seeks  the  room 
Where  waits  connubial  welcome  home. 
Nor  less  a  welcome  waits  him  there, 
Though  less  of  glow  its  offerings  wear; 
For  ocean  depths  are  just  as  deep 
When  in  serenity  they  sleep, 
As  when  the  waking  winds  impel 
And  ocean's  loftiest  billows  swell. 
Serene  and  bright  the  peaceful  ray 
That  o'er  the  wife's  fair  features  play ; 
And  sweet  the  words  of  ripened  love 
With  home-warm  welcome  interwove. 


22  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

"While  mutual  tender  interests  vie 
In  kind  inquiry  and  reply, 
The  wife,  iu  gentle  accents,  said, — 
"  Two  baby  lips  beneath  the  spread 
Assert  their  right  and  claim  their  meed." 
And  when,  more  favoring  view  to  gain, 
She  turned  aside  the  counterpane 
That  spread  its  pliant  folds  between, 
A  sleeping  baby's  face  was  seen. 

Far  iu  the  heaven  of  happy  dreams, 

Of  honey  loves  and  milky  streams, 

The  little  spirit  seemed  to  rove 

And  revel  in  remembered  love ; 

"While  lips  still  moved  in  mimic  draught 

As  though  maternal  sweets  they  quaffed. 

And  when  the  careful,  tender  tip 

"Was  given  from  paternal  lip, 

The  touch  the  sleeper's  dreams  beguiled, 

And  all  the  joyous  features  smiled. 

Oh,  blest  the  household  gods  that  dwell 
"Where  virtue  holds  her  citadel ! 


WILL    DELORIXG.  23 

And  blest  the  hallowed  joys  that  bloom 
In  earth's  glad  Eden,  happy  home ! 
If  the  wild  tide  that  swells  the  breast, 
When  uncrowned  fondness  brings  unrest, 
Can  yield  such  charm  to  passion's  tale, 
Can  bind  us  with  its  witching  spell, 
Why  should  the  calmly  rippling  flow, 
Blessing  the  fields  it  wanders  through, 
Claim  less  the  mind's  admiring  gaze, 
Win  less  the  minstrel's  lauding  lays ! 

But  love  itself  cannot  ensnare 

The  watchful  eye  of  wifely  care ; 

All  Will  Deloring's  efforts  were 

As  chains  of  frailest  gossamer 

To  keep  his  Emma's  searching  gaze 

From  probing  mind  so  ill  at  ease — 

For  what  can  walls  secretive  prove 

Against  the  force  of  woman's  love  ! 

"  Whence  your  sad  thoughts,  to-night?  "  she  said, 

"  Have  trials  more  than  wonted  preyed 

Upon  you  in  to-day's  affairs 

To  fill  you  with  disturbing  cares  ?  " 


24  MY   NEIGHBOR. 

Unwilling  truthless  words  to  speak, 
Nor  willing  yet  the  news  to  break 
Of  grave  events  so  lately  wrought 
That  loss,  disaster,  ruin  brought, 
While  hesitating  voice  betrayed 
His  deep  distress,  he  answer  made, — 
"  Yes ;  trials  have  beset  my  way 
In  full,  perplexing  force  to-day, 
And  still  annoy ;  but  let  them  not 
Your  peace  disturb,  home  is  the  spot 
Where  outside  cares  should  be  forgot. 
With  courage  I  must  face  them ;  then 
All  will  flow  on  in  peace  again." 

"  Think  you/'  she  said,  "  I'd  happy  be, 

Or  the  slow  night  bring  rest  to  me, 

If,  through  its  lingering  hours,  I  knew 

They  were  not  bringing  rest  to  you  ? 

And  can  there  be  a  grief  of  heart 

You  may  not  to  your  wife  impart, 

When  years  of  trust  have  brought  no  care 

To  one,  the  other  did  not  share  ? 

It  must  be  grief  in  strange  degree 

To  lie  beyond  my  sympathy. 


WILL    DELORING.  25 

There  can  do  sorrow  you  betide 
You  may  not  with  your  wife  divide." 
Then  on  his  arm  her  hand  she  laid, 
And  with  persuasive  utterance  said, — 
"  Share  me  your  griefs,  your  burden  share, 
Nor  doubt  a  woman's  power  to  bear." 


Deloring's  chiefest  fears  had  flown 
At  her  assuring  words  and  tone. 
He  answered, — "  Ever  have  I  found 
Your  love  in  darkest  hours  abound. 
For  you  I  feared  ;  but  consequence 
We'll  leave  to  the  same  Providence 
That  ne'er  has  failed  our  trust  to  bless, 
Or  send  us  comfort  in  distress." 


Without  reserve  he  then  confessed 
The  cares  that  on  his  bosom  pressed, 
The  loss  that  stripped  of  worldly  worth, 
And  crushed  his  spirit  to  the  earth, 
Binding  it  down  with  heavy  chain 
As  though  'twould  ne'er  take  wing  again. 


26  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

'Twas  strange  to  see  how  soon  his  grief 
In  its  recital  found  relief; 
How,  as  he  gave  to  words  his  pain, 
Comfort  and  hope  came  back  again ; 
And  how  the  strengthened  purpose  grew, 
And  high  resolve — to  dare  and  do. 

'Tis  thus  in  all  the  battle  strife 
That  wakes,  but  wastes,  in  tensest  life, 
His  is  sad  risk  of  fatal  wound 
"Who  fights  alone  when  foes  surround. 
But  they  defend  a  double  front 
Who  back  to  back  abide  the  brunt ; 
Who  wield  and  ward  for  mutual  sake, 
And  mutual  succor  give  and  take. 

And  thus  it  is  the  selfish  mind, 

To  generous  impulse  disinclined, 

Can  never  know  the  joy  that  lies 

In  love-constrained  self-sacrifice. 

The  love  on  others  we  bestow 

Yields  our  own  hearts  their  warmest  glow, 

As  hearth  returns  requiting  smile 

When  with  free  hand  the  logs  we  pile. 


Fart   Second. 


VERY  POOR  AXD  VERY  RICH. 

Beyond  the  sloping  shore  of  sand 
Where  the  brave  steamer  sought  the  land, 
On  a  slight  eminence  was  seen 
The  pleasant  town  of  Ivygreen. 
'Mid  gardens  bright  and  clustering  trees 
It  wooed  and  won  the  southern  breeze, 
What  time  the  southern  breezes  blew 
And  trees  and  gardens  verdant  grew, 
Though  now  there  only  met  the  sight 
The  wide  and  wintry  robe  of  white. 

Amidst,  the  vane-crowned  steeple  stood 

In  supercilious  altitude, 

And  plainer  "  Meeting  House"  of  "  Friends" 

Neatness  but  no  adornment  lends. 

(27) 


28  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

There  fairest  mansions  met  the  glance, 
Abodes  of  wealth  or  competence  ; 
And  humbler  homes  of  less  display- 
Impress  of  comfort  still  convey  ; 
But  poverty  had  rarely  shown 
Its  wan  abode  in  this  fair  town. 

Though  boat  and  train — a  double  tie — 

Made  the  near  city  nearer  lie, 

And  brought  with  growing  interchange 

To  rural  thought  a  wider  range, 

The  village  had  not  yet  outgrown 

Its  simple  guise  and  rural  tone, 

Its  quiet,  quaint  simplicity, — 

As  oft  in  growing  towns  we  see, 

"When  comes  the  boon  and  comes  the  ban 

Of  influence  metropolitan. 

Yet  Taste  was  not  a  stranger  there, 

Nor  Art  an  unknown  guest  or  rare, 

But  Taste  and  Art  alike  were  seen 

In  oft  abodes  at  Ivygreen. 

Among  the  forms  the  eye's  survey 
Might  heed  upon  the  quiet  way 


VERY    POOR   AND   VERY    RICH.  29 

Was  one  whose  noiseless,  hasteless  feet 
Trod,  day  by  day,  the  village  street. 
Without  employ,  without  resource, 
He  carried  neither  scrip  nor  purse. 
Averse  to  labor  or  to  gain, 
His  only  riches  was  his  cane, — 
The  thing  alone  that  claimed  his  care, 
His  sole  companion  everywhere. 
Moving,  at  rest,  awake,  asleep, 
It  never  left  his  fingers'  keep. 
A  charm  about  it  seemed  to  lie 
Of  worth  so  great,  of  price  so  high, 
No  gift  could  e'er  that  worth  outweigh, 
No  proffered  gold  that  price  could  pay. 

When  slowly  pacing  to  and  fro, 

He  gazed  upon  the  ground  below, 

Though  what  the  meditative  spell, 

Or  what  his  thoughts  were,  none  could  tell. 

A  stranger  child  might  shrink  with  fear 

To  see  "  Old  John  "  approaching  near ; 

But  every  child  of  Ivy  green 

Knew  wrell  the  ancient  negro's  mien, 


30  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

That,  though  with  aspect  strange  and  weird, 
His  mind  no  harmful  impulse  stirred. 


'Twas  said  that  he  a  slave  had  been 
Before  he  came  to  Ivygreen  ; 
But  that,  with  crazy  mind,  no  skill 
Had  worked  despotic  "  driver's  "  will ; 
That  bonds  and  stripes  had  all  been  foiled 
To  make  him  toil  as  others  toiled  ; 
And  that  his  "  owner  "  little  cared 
Whither  he  went  or  how  he  fared, 
And  forwarded  a  scheme  to  have 
This  useless,  idiotic  slave, 
This  "  chattel  "  of  so  little  worth, 
Escape  to  freedom  in  the  north. 
"Whate'er  the  means,  John  freedom  found, 
And  wandered  indolently  round 
From  place  to  place,  from  lot  to  lot, 
Till  fell  the  lines  in  this  fair  spot. 

No  local,  fixed  abode  he  knew, 
Nor  care  domestic  claimed  its  due. 


VERY   POOR   AND   VERY    RICH.  31 

For  miles  around  he  loved  to  roam, 
Finding  each  kitchen  fire  a  home ; 
Gaining,  "where'er  his  rovings  led, 
By  day  a  meal,  by  night  a  bed, 
In  barn  or  in  protecting  shed ; 
And  even  the  kitchen  settle's  screen 
Was  not  denied,  if  nights  were  keen ; 
Nor  human  churl  nor  watchdog's  ban 
Disturbed  the  innocuous  old  man. 
A  self-invited  guest  he  came, 
And  self-dismissed  resigned  his  claim  ; 
And  everywhere  he  came  and  went, 
Well  known,  well  used,  uncalled,  unsent. 


For  all  this  hospitable  heed 

John  never  gave  requiting  meed. 

Only  in  times  of  hurried  haste, 

When  needs  the  laboring  means  surpassed, 

Some  thoughtless  tongue  might  give  command 

To  John  to  give  a  helping  hand ; 

But  John's  most  grateful  moods  would  fail 

To  nerve  his  arm  for  fork  or  flail, 


32  MY   NEIGHBOR. 

And  sad,  indeed,  the  look  forlorn 
"With  which  the  ebon  face  would  turn, 
The  highway's  freer  scope  to  find 
And  leave  the  exacting  roof  behind. 

While  thus  of  food  and  shelter  sure, 
An  humble  guest  at  every  door, 
Of  raiment  ne'er  was  scarceness  seen 
For  summer  airs  or  winds  more  keen. 
For  there  were  those  whose  liberal  store 
Full  well  supplied  the  clothes  he  wore — 
Though  ever  he  sought,  with  notions  queer, 
To  shape  them  into  grotesque  gear, 
His  independent  form  of  thought 
For  Fashion's  mandate  caring  nought ; 
And  strangers  oft  their  mirth  betrayed 
Noting  the  changes  John  had  made. 

Thus  numerous  guardians  he  could  claim ; 
And  one,  a  dear  old  Quaker  dame, 
Would  oftentimes,  when  Old  John  came, 
Discourse  to  him  of  solemn  things, 
His  duty  to  the  King  of  kings, 


VERY   POOR   AND   VERY   RICH.  33 

His  mortal  lot,  the  life  above, 
The  wondrous  depths  of  Jesus'  love, 
And  urge  the  poor,  benighted  mind 
A  Saviour's  sheltering  love  to  find. 


John  listened  with  attentive  ear 

While  fell  the  words  of  Christian  cheer; 

But  most  attention  would  bestow 

"When  told  how  Jesus  dwelt  below, 

"Whose  cradle  was  a  stable  bed, 

And  who,  when  earlier  years  had  fled, 

Though  hungry  multitudes  he  fed, 

Yet  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head  ; 

"Who  taught  how  fairest  lilies  grew 

Though  neither  art  nor  toil  they  knew ; 

How  birds  that  neither  sowed  nor  reaped 

Were  by  the  Heavenly  Father  kept ; — 

To  these  John  close  attention  gave 

With  eyes  more  bright  and  face  less  grave. 

The  aged  matron  whose  appeal 
Bespoke  her  earnest  Christian  zeal, 


34  MY   NEIGHBOR. 

And  woke  the  mind  of  poor  Old  John 
To  gleam  of  thought  and  listful  tone, 
Though  years  had  blanched  her  wavy  hair, 
And  furrowed  cheeks  once  strangely  fair, 
Though  youthful  fire  and  flush  were  gone, 
Bloomed  yet  with  graces  all  her  own ; 
As  bright  Althea's  flowery  blaze 
Yields  beauty  to  autumnal  days  ; 
Or  as  the  phosphorescent  gleam 
To  gathering  darkness  lends  its  beam. 

In  mansion  close  by  village  stir 
She  dwelt  untitled  Dowager ; 
And  all  who  lived  afar  or  near, 
Or  rich  or  poor,  or  child  or  seer, 
Whate'er  their  means,  whate'er  their  aim, 
In  honor  held  Ann  Morton's  name. 
'Twas  here  her  sole  surviving  son 
"Wielded  the  wealth  his  sire  had  won  ; 
And  children's  children  gathered  round 
In  paths  of  humble  duty  found. 
In  plain  attire,  in  honest  life, 
In  ways  that  made  no  league  with  strife, 


VERY   POOR   AND   VERY   RICH.  35 

In  simple  word  of  yea  and  nay, 

They  sought  and  found  the  peaceful  way, 

Illumined  by  the  reverend  one 

Who,  shining,  knew  not  that  she  shone. 


'Tis  here  our  vagrant  story  leads : — 
Old  John, — supplied  his  utmost  needs, 
And  in  his  strange,  grotesque  attire, 
Was  toasting  by  the  kitchen  fire, 
Where  viands  choice,  in  generous  deal, 
Had  smoked  for  David  Morton's  meal, 
Who  in  the  room  adjoining  sat 
With  circling  friends,  in  dinner  chat, 
Around  the  amply  furnished  board 
His  opulence  could  well  afford. 

Nor  was  it  idle  gossip  led 

The  easy,  brisk  discourse  that  sped 

From  mouth  to  mouth.    Although  they  glance 

At  Will  Deloring's  late  mischance, 

In  words  of  kind  concern  they  spoke, 

And  much  deplored  the  sudden  stroke 


36  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

That  thus  the  blooming  hopes  had  spoiled 
Of  one  who  honestly  had  toiled. 


Though  open  door  assistance  lent, 

John,  at  the  first,  gave  no  attent 

To  the  discourse  ;  his  limbs  were  crossed, 

And  he  in  dozy  thought  was  lost. 

But  as  the  story  would  unfold 

Of  heavy  loss  by  burglars  bold, 

He  turned  his  head,  and  plied  his  ear 

The  tale  of  startling  deed  to  hear. 

Never  was  seen  that  old  man's  face 

Such  wTakened  interest  to  express. 

While  listening  to  the  facts  detailed, 

The  crime  achieved  while  darkness  veiled, 

The  ruin  to  Deloring  brought, 

And  chiefly  when  to  feeling  wrought 

They  hoped  the  villains  would  be  caught, 

His  fingers  tightened  on  his  staff; 

He  seemed  in  restless  mood  to  chafe  ; 

Listened  anew,  and  pondered  o'er 

The  words  that  floated  through  the  door ; 


VERY  POOR   AND   VERY   RICH.  37 

Seemed  wildly  moved  by  what  he  heard, 
Until  at  last  by  impulse  stirred 
He  seized  his  hat,  rose  to  his  feet, 
And  passed  out  slowly  to  the  street. 


Meanwhile  the  table  converse  flowed, 
And  the  clear  truth  too  plainly  showed 
That  Will  Deloring  had  been  brought 
From  thrift  and  comfort  down  to  nought. 
And  every  listener,  old  or  young, 
Felt  his  heart  mounting  to  his  tongue, 
And  each  in  lengthened  phrase  or  brief 
Outspoke  his  sympathetic  grief — 
Though  younger  friends,  when  age  is  nigh, 
Ne'er  let  their  words  their  thoughts  outvie, 
Well  taught  each  impulse  to  restrain, 
And  modestly  their  part  sustain. 

David,  whose  promptings  oft  bore  fruit 

That  honored  the  maternal  root, 

ISpoke  of  the  duty  ever  pressed 

On  "  Friends  "  to  help  a  "  Friend  "  distressed, 


38  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

And  thought  that  others  should  not  shun 
This  Christian  duty  to  their  own. 


George  Freeman  there  who  bore  a  part 
Had  large  estate  and  wealth  of  heart, 
Yet  wealth  of  words  he  ne'er  possessed 
Whate'er  the  worth  of  thought  expressed  ; 
But,  like  the  gems  that  court  display, 
The  rarer  the  more  precious  they. 
With  all  attentive  ear  he  heard 
Each  kindly,  sympathetic  word, 
And  every  thought  benevolent 
Received  his  full  but  brief  assent. 


Ann,  whose  own  views  had  been  suppressed, 
Now  gave  to  words  her  heart's  unrest : 
"  Friends,"  the  benignant  matron  said, — 
And  all  attentive  audience  paid, — 
"  If  one  of  our  society 
Had  met  mischance  in  such  degree, 
Had  thus  been  rudely  tempest-tost, 
His  property,  his  all  had  lost, 


VERY   POOR   AND   VERY    RICH.  39 

Fraternal  usages  of  Friends 
Had  led  to  prompt  and  helpful  ends  ; 
Had  aimed  to  break  the  blow  severe, 
Had  given  the  sufferer  words  of  cheer, — 
"Words  that  would  sympathy  reveal, 
Backed  by  substantial  help  as  well. 
And  is  our  Christian  love  confined 
To  those  of  our  religious  mind  ? 
"We  give  our  fullest  meed  of  praise 
To  "Will  Deloring's  honest  ways  ; 
Although  he  treads  without  our  sphere, 
His  faith,  I  doubt  not,  is  sincere, 
And,  as  his  moderate  means  command, 
Shows  generous  heart  and  liberal  hand. 
We  must  not  see  our  neighbor  lie 
Plundered  and  beaten,  left  to  die, 
Because  he's  of  another  clan, — 
He  Jew  and  we  Samaritan." 

She  paused.     Xo  softest  breath  was  heard, 
Nor  hand  nor  rustling  dress  was  stirred, 
But  utter  was  the  hush  profound 
That  reigned  that  table  group  around. 


40  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

'Twas  age  that  spoke,  'twas  age  addressed 
The  generous  impulse  of  each  breast ; 
And  Friends  of  youthful  years  or  sage 
Never  withhold  its  meed  from  age. 

Again  she  spoke  : —  "  David,  thy  mind 

"Was  ever  tenderly  inclined  ; 

Thou  and  our  guest,  George  Freeman,  strive 

This  matter  due  regard  to  give. 

Your  hearts  alike  to  good  incline ; 

Your  heads  are  both  more  clear  than  mine." 

Then  David  spoke : —  "  Mother,  thy  heart 
Has  never  failed  its  zeal  to  impart 
To  those  who  hear  its  pleading  cries 
For  virtue  when  it  bleeding  lies; 
Nor  ever  has  there  aught  unblest 
Come  from  obeying  thy  behest. 
George  and  myself  will  conference  hold, 
Will  each  to  each  our  views  unfold, 
And,  if  approved,  thy  wish  fulfil." 
George  Freeman  added, — "Ann,  we  will." 


Fart  Thied. 


THE   QUAKER  MAIDEN. 

Kow  speed  the  household  to  their  ways  ; 

We  follow  one  whose  face  displays 

The  same  benignant,  gentle  trace 

That  still  adorns  Ann  Morton's  face. 

Could  age  the  forms  of  youth  resume 

And  faded  charms  take  back  their  bloom, 

Scarcely  distinct  might  Seem  the  two, 

Ann  Morton  young  and  Susan  Drew  ;  — 

The  likeness  was  by  blood  instilled, 

Susan  was  Ann's  lost  daughter's  child  ; 

The  same  soft  hair,  the  same  mild  eyes, 

The  same  entrancing  witcheries 

That  shone  and  sparkled  in  the  face, 

And  yet  you  knew  not  where  to  place. 

'Twas  like  the  bird  of  ruby  vest 

That  seeks  the  honeysuckle's  breast ; 

(41) 


42  MY   NEIGHBOR. 

Restless  it  wanders  o'er  the  bower 
From  cup  to  cup,  from  flower  to  flower; 
Scarcely  your  gaze  upon  it  fixed 
In  one  bright  spot,  it  seeks  the  next ; 
But  where  its  mimic  rainbow  gleams 
The  while,  a  charming  grace  it  seems. 

But  when  the  satin  bonnet  wound 
Its  circling  shield  the  face  around, 
Like  costly,  clasping  ring  of  gold 
The  gem's  more  sparkling  sheen  to  hold, 
The  sweet  accord  entranced  the  view 
Ravished  with  gem  and  setting  too. 

Twas  thus  before  her  glass  she  turned 

In  unadorning  dress  adorned ; 

Taught  rebel  locks  to  do  her  will, 

And  smoothed  her  robes  with  strokes  of  skill ; 

Adjusted  circling  furs  with  care 

To  meet  the  needs  in  winter  air ; 

And  then  a  final,  lingering  look 

Upon  her  mirror's  face  she  took 

As  if  to  catch  its  favoring  smile — 

"What  though  it  were  her  own  the  while ! 


THE    QUAKER    MAIDEN.  43 

Nor  dare  we  all  too  closely  pry, 

Nor  dare  a  maiden's  heart  to  spy, 

To  learn  if  in  that  bosom  dwelt 

One  little  thought,  scarce  seen  or  felt, 

Had  said,  could  it  have  told  its  tale, 

"  'Twill  please  the  eye  of  Edward  Vail  "— 

For  pleasant  walk  o'er  sparkling  way 

With  Edward  now  before  her  lay, 

And  visit  to  a  suffering  friend 

To  pleasant  means  made  kindly  end. 

It  was  a  sunny  winter's  day 
When  sought  the  twain  the  trodden  way  ; 
All  crisp  beneath  the  foot-tread  lay 
The  crackling  snow  ;  dazzling  and  white 
It  gleamed  upon  the  maiden's  sight, 
Who  o'er  her  face  and  bonnet  drew 
A  veil, — to  break  the  blinding  view, 
She  said,  and  shield  her  from  the  daze, — 
And  yet,  perchance,  not  glittering  rays 
But  Edward  Vail's  too  constant  gaze, 
Who  lent  his  aid,  although  he  drew 
Small  pleasure  from  obstructed  view. 


44  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

Yet  free  and  joyous  went  the  twain, 
Merry  and  mirthful,  maid  and  swain, — 
For  need  not  I  too  plainly  say 
That  silken  chains  around  them  lay, 
And  keen  observers'  eyes  had  guessed 
What  her  tied  tongue  had  ne'er  confessed, 
Though  he  his  tender  suit  had  made 
And  all  his  warm  affection  plead. 

But  love  is  oft  like  brooks  that  seek 
The  greeting  light  from  mountain  peak; 
O'er  many  a  chiding  rock  they  break 
Before  they  reach  the  tranquil  lake, 
Or  lose  each  foamy,  murmuring  trace 
In  the  encircling  tide's  embrace. 
And  so  the  love  in  Edward's  breast 
Found  nought  but  harrowing  unrest, 
Like  ark-sent  dove  that  sought  in  vain 
Rest  for  her  weary  wing  to  gain, 
Compelled  from  bootless  search  to  come 
Back  to  the  flood-encircled  home. 

For  Edward  full  allegiance  lent 
To  bishop's  power  of  long  descent, 


THE    QUAKER    MAIDEN.  45 

To  churchly  forms  of  prayer  and  praise, 
And  tuneful  helps  the  heart  to  raise 
From  earthly  to  celestial  gaze. 
But  Susan  was  of  straitest  sect, 
Who  deem  they  wedded  life  protect 
By  bonds  within  their  pale  alone, 
And  bravers  of  their  law  disown. 


In  this  exclusive  doctrine  bred, 
Susan  felt  dangers  round  her  spread, 
She  knew  not  why,  she  saw  not  where, 
But  still,  unquestioning,  felt  the  fear. 
And  while  within  her  troubled  breast 
A  loud-voiced  plea  for  Edward  pressed, 
It  seemed  all  duty  to  transcend 
To  these  loud  pleadings  to  attend. 
How  could  she  e'er  the  sting  endure 
Or  lasting  peace  of  mind  secure, 
If  she  Friends'  teachings  should  abjure! 

But  when  that  day,  at  David's  board, 
Ann  Morton  spoke,  her  every  word 


46  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

Pierced  to  the  heart  of  Susan  Drew, 
Bringing  strange  vision  to  her  view. 
For  though  it  touched  her  inmost  life 
With  sorrow  for  Deloring's  grief, 
Who  shall  a  simple  maiden  blame 
If,  while  her  tears  responsive  came 
Watering  her  cheek  for  others'  woes, 
They  watered,  too,  her  withering  rose? 
Ann  Morton,  pleading  love's  high  laws, 
Unknowing  pleaded  Edward's  cause, 
And  every  word  so  sagely  said 
Its  impress  due  on  Susan  made : 
"And  is  our  Christian  love  confined 
To  those  of  our  religious  mind  ?  " 
"  Because  he's  of  another  clan, 
He  Jew,  and  we  Samaritan?" 
Oft  she  repeated  in  her  mind 
These  words  so  liberal  and  kind ; 
And  oft  applied  their  welcome  power 
In  freshening  drops  to  withering  flower. 

Ah,  Maiden !  how  alike  are  minds 
When  beckons  Joy,  when  Passion  blinds ! 


THE    QUAKER    MAIDEN.  47 

The  aphorism's  sententious  truth 
Applies  to  age,  applies  to  youth  :  — 
"Whatever  men  desire  were  true, 
That  forms  their  swift  conviction  too. 


Though  stern  midwinter  held  its  sway, 
The  frigid  air  in  stillness  lay, 
Like  conquering  giant  well  that  knew 
His  brawny  strength  and  vantage  too, 
And,  smiling  on  his  victims,  chose 
To  show  his  power  in  bland  repose. 

So,  wrapped  about  with  vesture  warm, 
While  nimble  feet  their  part  perform, 
And  sportive  wit  and  sparkling  thought 
As  each  from  each  the  infection  caught 
Beguiled  the  way, — or  more  subdued 
The  graver  turn  and  serious  mood, — 
They  held  their  road,  and  soon  had  come 
To  the  Dalrymples'  pleasant  home, 
The  Pinery,  as  the  place  was  named, 
A  rural  title  fitly  framed 


48  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

To  note  remains  of  ancient  wood 

That  still  in  lofty  grandeur  stood, 

Telling  of  long-past  days  their  tale 

In  pensive  song  to  every  gale. 

Above  the  quiet  lawn's  repose 

In  towering  pride  and  strength  they  rose, 

Bared  their  broad  frontlets  to  the  sky 

The  wrath  of  tempests  to  defy, 

And  seemed  like  constant,  stalwart  guard 

That  o'er  the  grounds  kept  watch  and  ward, 

Shielding  from  prying  travellers'  view 

The  dwellers  and  the  dwelling  too. 

Susan's  and  Edward's  feet  obey 

The  guidance  of  the  opening  way 

Through  bowers  with  piny  fragrance  fraught, 

And  reached  the  door  their  footsteps  sought ; 

And  soon  beside  a  cheerful  grate 

Edward  in  patient  waiting  sat, 

While  Susan  sought  a  room  above, 

To  cheer  with  words  and  looks  of  love 

One  whom  from  suffering  long  endured 

Wealth,  love  and  care  had  not  secured. 


THE    QUAKER    MAIDEN.  49 

The  pleasant  room  had  charms,  the  while, 
His  waiting  moments  to  beguile ; 
Its  glowing  walls  the  gaze  invite 
To  panorama  of  delight ; 
Pictures  no  skilless  pencils  traced 
Their  claims  present  to  eye  of  taste, 
And  graceful  sculptured  forms  enrich 
The  aidful  pedestal  and  niche. 

Edward  enchanted  loitered  round 
And  stores  of  high  enjoyment  found, 
"Wonted  art's  treasures  to  explore 
"With  cunning  eye  of  connoisseur. 
Then,  a  piano's  open  board 
Tempted  his  hand  ;  he  struck  a  chord 
"With  gentlest  touch  ;  then  roamed  at  ease 
Over  the  mind-obedient  keys. 
"With  hand  of  practice,  touch  of  skill 
He  woke  their  mysteries  at  will. 
Then  at  his  call  a  prelude  rung, 
And  then  in  answering  strain  he  sung, 
Striving  sonorous  voice  to  curb 
Lest  other  ear  it  might  disturb. 
4 


50  MY   NEIGHBOR. 


SONG. 


oh!  love  it  is  a  pleasant  thino. 

Oh!  Love  it  is  a  pleasant  thing, 

Though  oft  it  makes  us  sigh ; 
Though  to  the  heart  it  grief  may  bring, 

And  tear-flood  to  the  eye. 
'Tis  not  in  vain  our  tears  may  flow  ; 

'Tis  not  in  vain  we're  moved ; 
'Tis  worth  a  thousand  griefs  to  know 

We  love  and  are  beloved. 


The  hoarse  and  angry  winds,  that  sweep 

Across  the  broad  blue  main, 
Ruffle  the  bosom  of  the  deep 

And  drive  the  falling  rain ; 
Yet  joy  is  in  the  bounding  gale, — 

When  o'er  the  seas  I  stray, 
It  fills  my  broad  and  bending  sail 

And  wafts  me  on  my  way. 


THE    QUAKER    MAIDEN.  51 

Then  would  I  not  delight  forego 

Although  with  tears  combined ; 
The  griefs  and  tears  I  fain  would  know 

That  I  the  joys  might  find; 
For  love  it  is  a  pleasant  thing; 

And  though  it  brings  us  pain, 
A  thousand  thousand  joys  'twill  bring 

To  those  who  wear  its  chain. 


Though  soft  and  low  that  voice  suppressed, 
To  his  own  ear  alone  addressed, 
He  sung  with  feeling  unrestrained, 
Deeming  his  voice  no  audience  gained ; 
But  what  his  wonder,  glancing  round, 
When  covert  listener  he  found  ! 
Stealthy  her  tread  or  dull  his  ear, 
For  Susan  Drew  was  standing  near. 

"O  sing  again,"  she  said,  "my  mind, 
Though  adverse  taught,  can  pleasure  find 
In  melody  of  mystic  strings, — 
And  in  thy  voice  what  music  rings!" 


52  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

Could  stronger  potency  impel ! 
Could  Edward  Vail  resist  the  spell! 
He  touched  the  answering  keys  again  ; 
Again  he  breathed  melodious  strain. 

SONG. 

ONE   WHISPERING   WORD. 

Oh,  when  on  your  beauty  I  gaze  with  delight 

And  affection  your  image  enthrones, 
And  my  quivering  lips  all  too  feebly  recite 

What  my  heart  in  fond  fealty  owns, 
You  answer  me  not, — though  I  look  in  your  eyes 

That  like  heavenly  witnesses  shine, 
And  they  smile  to  my  smile  as  in  gentle  replies, 

And  awake  the  sweet  thought — you  are  mine. 

Why  thus  should  your  tongue  the  dear  passion 
disown, 

If  your  looks  your  fond  feelings  convey  ? 
And  why  not  in  one  gentle  whisper  make  known 

What  your  glances  unbidden  betray  ? 


THE    QUAKER     MAIDEN.  53 

O  speak  to  me,  darling,  the  thoughts  of  your  heart; 

Let  your  eyes  starry  witnesses  shine ; 
Speak,  if  but  one  whispering  word,  ere  we  part, 

And  confirm  the  sweet  thought — you  are  mine. 


He  ceased  ; — the  tender,  pleading  lay 

In  sounds  symphonic  died  away. 

No  word  was  spoke,  but  one  brief  glance 

Revealed  his  thoughts  with  eloquence, 

And  found  in  Susan's  moistened  eye 

A  mute  but  eloquent  reply. 

They  turned, — a  common  thought  obeyed, 

And  sought  the  way  that  homeward  led. 


Fakt  Fourth. 


DOUBTS  AND  ENCOURAGEMENTS. 

Twas  New-Year  Eve.     The  fading  day 
Shone  in  the  pale  west's  latest  ray, 
And  the  last  twilight's  soothing  cheer 
Bore  solace  to  the  dying  year, 
While  doom  no  respite  e'er  outflies 
Was  hastening  from  the  orient  skies. 

The  dark  meridian  of  the  night 

From  east  to  west  pursued  its  flight, 

Bringing  successive  night  and  morn — 

An  old  year  dead,  a  new  year  born. 

Solemn  and  still  the  heavenly  spheres 

Witnessed  the  silent  change  of  years. 

Throughout  their  wide  and  glorious  range 

Move  circling  years  in  constant  change ; 
(54) 


DOUBTS    AND    ENCOURAGEMENTS.  55 

Only  in  vast,  mysterious  scroll 
Are  writ  these  changes  as  they  roll. 

But  o'er  each  darkened  line  of  earth 
Where  dawned  in  turn  the  new  year's  birth, 
It  seemed  of  joy  the  carnival 
As  rolled  the  time-recording  ball, 
Bringing  the  watched-for  midnight  hour, 
The  silent  signal,  when  from  tower 
Far  sending  forth  their  chiming  swells 
Should  wake  to  joy  cathedral  bells ; 
When  sudden  chorals  loud  and  long 
Should  burst  from  waiting  mortals'  song ; 
"When  mighty  organs'  grandest  keys 
Should  spread  upon  the  midnight  breeze 
Their  volumed  roll  of  harmonies ; 
When  o'er  the  land  from  north  to  south 
Thunders  should  pour  from  cannon's  mouth, 
And  rattling  drums  and  trumpets'  bray 
Should  greet  the  new-born  New- Year  day. 

As  yet  it  was  but  evening  gray, 
Dying  December's  lingering  ray, 


56  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

But  in  the  face  of  seer  and  child 
Alike  expectant  pleasure  smiled 
As  hope  spread  forth  to  each  its  toys, 
Its  lessening  griefs,  its  growing  joys, 
Its  pledge  that  kindlier  destiny 
Was  in  the  coming  year  to  be. 

Through  gathering  darkness,  far  and  near, 

Impatient  salvos  tore  the  air, 

"Where  clamorous  youths'  ambitious  zeal 

Startled  the  night  with  flash  and  peal, 

Intent  to  drive,  with  noisy  din, 

The  old  year  out,  the  new  year  in. 

'Twas  darkening  night.     Discordant  strain 
Had  heralded  the  coming  train. 
Swept  on  his  way  the  iron  steed 
As  if  no  curbing  hand  'twould  heed ; 
Till  tightening  brakes  and  lessening  speed 
Brought  it  to  stand,  with  mild  demean, 
The  station  near  of  Ivygreen, 
And  Will  Deloring  from  the  car 
Emerged,  returning  from  afar. 


DOUBTS    AND    ENCOURAGEMENTS.  57 

For  when  the  heavy  stroke  befel 

That  seemed  of  all  his  hopes  the  knell, 

He  sat  not  down  in  grief  to  wear 

The  heavy  garments  of  despair, 

But  far  and  near  surveyed  the  field 

For  aught  that  might  assistance  yield. 

"Were  there  not  those,  when  cares  had  pressed, 

AVho  could  his  untied  purse  attest? 

Men  who  misfortune's  shocks  outbraved 

By  his  unfaltering  succor  saved  ? 

And  could  he  doubt  their  ready  hand, 

Now  strong  to  help,  he  might  command  ? 

But  gratitude  too  rarely  finds 
A  resting-place  in  human  minds. 
"We  do  not  gain,  whate'er  our  toil, 
Fruiting  from  uncongenial  soil ; 
And  generous  deeds  can  ne'er  impart 
Their  generous  zeal  to  sordid  heart. 
Nor  does  the  honest  show  of  need 
With  eloquence  effective  plead — 
Alas  the  countless  arts  to  hide 
A  pressing  need  until  supplied  ! 


58 


MY    NEIGHBOR. 

Thus  small  encouragement,  as  yet, 
Had  Will  Deloring's  efforts  met, 
And  he  his  homeward  pathway  pressed 
"With  no  less  weight  upon  his  breast. 
The  closing  year  no  comfort  lent 
To  coming  days  of  dark  portent, 
And  keen  solicitudes  combined, 
In  tightening  strain,  to  crowd  his  mind. 

But  when  with  hastening  steps  he  sped 
Along  the  way  that  homeward  led, 
Though  dark  had  grown  the  face  of  night 
His  welcoming  windows  shone  with  light. 
For  Emma's  well-adjudging  care, 
Prescient  of  mien  his  mind  might  wear, 
"With  wifely  forethought  sought  to  cleave 
The  spell  persistent  cares  might  weave ; 
And,  that  amid  the  gathering  gloom 
His  house  should  yield  warm  welcome  home, 
And  eve  of  opening  year  be  bright 
"With  glowing  fire  and  lamps'  full  light, 
She  had  no  barriers  interposed 
By  curtains  drawn  or  shutters  closed, 


DOUBTS   AND    ENCOURAGEMENTS.  59 

That  so  the  glowing  in-door  rays 
Might  greet  with  cheer  the  comer's  gaze. 

Thus  spite  of  cares  and  burdening  thought 

Was  comfort  to  Deloring  brought, 

But  not  repose ;  the  eve's  repast 

Had  scarcely  wrought  its  cheer  and  rest, 

When  message  to  Deloring  came — 

Old  John  an  interview  would  claim. 

Oft  did  this  humble  pensioner  share 

The  kitchen  fire's  unstinted  cheer, 

But  never  had  he  made  pretence 

To  seek  the  master's  audience, 

Contented  with  the  rest  and  fare 

To  which  he  found  a  welcome  there. 

But  when  with  kind  excuse  denied, 

Firmly  his  strange  request  he  plied, 

Until  at  length  his  suit  he  gained. — - 

Then  with  clear  mind  and  speech  unchained 

He  told  his  agitating  tale, 

And  not  a  thought  forsook  its  trail. 

"  Master,"  he  said,  "  I'll  tell  you  where 
The  thieves  that  stole  your  money  are. 


60  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

Last  week  I  to  the  city  went, 

And  that  night  in  the  city  spent. 

On  some  old  mats  Aunt  Liddy  spread 

In  a  small  room,  I  made  my  bed. 

I  wakened  some  time  in  the  night, 

And  heard  a  voice  and  saw  a  light. 

Not  from  Aunt  Liddy's  room  it  came, 

But,  from  the  other  side,  a  flame 

Shone  through  a  hole  above  my  head, 

And  I  could  hear  the  words  they  said. 

I  could  not  understand  it  all 

Because  the  hole  was  very  small, 

And  low  the  voices  to  my  ear, 

So  that  I  failed  in  part  to  hear, 

But  learned  from  what  was  plain  to  me, 

And  from  what  little  I  could  see, 

A  bank  the  thieves  had  robbed  that  night. 

Master,  it  set  me  all  affright. 

No  more  that  whole  long  night  I  slept, 

And  quiet  as  I  could  I  kept 

Until  I  found  it  break  of  day ; 

And  then  I  rose  and  came  away. 

I'll  go  with  you,  and  show  you  where 

The  thieves  that  stole  your  money  are." 


DOUBTS    AND    ENCOUEAGEMENTS.  61 

Strange  was  the  tale,  and  strange  the  mode 
In  which  the  doubtful  story  flowed 
From  mind  so  little  thought  had  stirred, 
And  lips  from  which  had  ne'er  been  heard 
Such  volume  of  expressive  word  ; 
And  Will  Deloring  well  might  fail 
Credence  to  yield  to  John's  detail. 
But  answers  sound  to  questions  plied 
Cast  every  urgent  doubt  aside, 
And  showed  a  strange  experience 
"Wrought  in  the  old  man's  dormant  sense. 

"With  so  slight  aid  from  others'  speech 
But  little  news  his  ear  could  reach. 
He  nothing  learned  from  rumor's  tongue, 
From  floating  news  the  crowd  among ; 
And  shut  within  himself  had  slept 
The  troubling  secret  that  he  kept. 

But  when  the  dinner  talk,  that  day, 
Revealed  where  fell  the  loss,  a  ray 
Of  sudden  light,  in  strangest  guise, 
Broke  on  his  clouded  faculties. 


62  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

Could  this  be  reason's  latent  ray  ? 
Had  fear  that  night  and  love  that  day- 
Brought  it  to  sudden,  healthful  play, 
As  the  cold  iron  warms  and  glows 
Beneath  a  strong  arm's  steady  blows  ? 
And  had  Ann  Morton's  pious  heed 
So  given  to  growth  the  mustard  seed, 
That  now  it  rose  in  stately  pride 
And  spread  its  sheltering  branches  wide 
When  thus  to  keenest  interest  wrought 
At  once  he  had  Deloring  sought, 
And,  when  at  home  he  found  him  not, 
Had  lingered  round  with  bateless  zeal 
For  earliest  chance  his  tale  to  tell. 

Strange  as  at  first  the  seeming  dream, 
Deloring  yielded  to  its  claim, 
Leaving  the  future  to  reveal 
The  truth  or  falsehood  of  the  tale. 
He  warmly  thanked  the  kind  old  man 
For  friendly  act  and  thoughtful  plan, 
And  to  his  offer  made  response — 
That  he  would  go  with  him  at  once, 


DOUBTS    AND    ENCOURAGEMENTS.  63 

To  find  the  spot  where  he  had  heard 
The  sounds  his  fears  so  deeply  stirred. 

Familiar  aphorismic  lore 

Has  ofttimes  from  its  copious  store 

Urged  the  disheartening  adage  home, — 

"  Misfortunes  never  single  come." 

But  more  devoutly  may  the  thought 

Before  the  humble  mind  be  brought, — 

That  trial  on  trial,  here  below, 

The  Father's  chastening  love  may  show; 

And,  conversely,  with  equal  haste 

Blessing  on  blessing  follow  fast. 

"We  may  not  scrutinize  the  road 

By  which  God's  guidance  leads  to  God  ; 

"We  only  need  hi3  hand  to  hold, — 

The  tortuous  path  will  all  unfold. 

"When  "Will  Deloring  had  dismissed 

His  sable  friend  and  humble  guest, 

While  he  to  Emma  should  unveil 

The  startling  news  of  Old  John's  tale, 

And  how  he  hoped  success  to  gain, 

If  the  old  negro's  thoughts  were  sane, — 


64  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

A  carriage  stopped  before  the  gate, 
Within  whose  dark  enclosure  sat 
Two  men  in  Quaker  garb  arrayed, 
Whom  when  the  in-door  light  displayed, 
Their  forms  and  faces  well  were  known, — 
One  David  was,  George  Freeman  one. 

The  Friends  their  salutations  made 

In  words  no  compliments  that  paid, 

But  with  the  manner  frank  and  free 

Practised  by  their  society. 

There  was  no  rudeness  of  intent, 

If  in  no  bow  their  bodies  bent ; 

No  indecorum  was  betrayed, 

If  hats  remained  their  brows  to  shade ; 

The  host  and  hostess  did  not  see 

Offence  or  incivility, 

When,  as  they  welcome  gave  each  guest, 

They  were  by  Christian  names  addressed. 

For  Friends  would  strive  to  guard  their  ways 

From  worldly  pomp  and  vain  displays 

Honestly,  strictly,  to  abstain 

From  courtier's  arts,  profuse  and  vain, 

Another's  weak  esteem  to  gain ; 


DOUBTS    AND    ENCOURAGEMENTS.  65 

And,  in  whate'er  they  say  or  do, 
To  be  consistent,  plain,  and  true. 

Brief  social  converse  interposed, 

And  then  the  Friends  their  aim  disclosed : 

They  gave  Deloring  sympathy 

For  trials  sent  thus  suddenly ; 

They  told  him  how  the  mother's  heart 

Had  in  his  troubles  borne  its  part; 

And  then  her  friendly  wish  obeyed 

By  offers  of  more  helpful  aid 

Pressing  emergencies  to  meet, 

Until  more  favoring  times  should  greet 

His  likely  labors,  having  trust 

Their  hopes  and  his  would  not  be  lost. 

They  told  him  that  the  offer  made 

Y>ras  only  meant  as  friendly  aid, 

And  that  no  thought  of  theirs  was  blent 

With  grasping  bonus  or  per  cent. ; 

That  he  no  surety  need  procure 

To  make  repayment  more  secure, — 

His  own  acknowledgment  should  be 

The  sole  required  security. 
5 


66  MY   NEIGHBOR. 

'Twas  David  spoke  the  joint  design  ; 
George  only  said, — "  His  words  are  mine." 

If  John's  revealings  filled  his  breast 

With  clamorous  gratitude's  unrest, 

Still  more  their  friendly  words  that  flowed, 

And  trust  expressed,  and  help  bestowed, 

Help  unforeseen,  unsought,  supplied, 

Help  free  from  patronizing  pride ; 

In  all, — the  kindly  thoughts  that  move, 

What  could  they  be  but  Christian  love ! 

With  gushing  force  his  feelings  swept, 

And  manly  Will  Deloring  wept. 

But  brief  the  inordinate  display, 

And  manhood  soon  regained  its  sway. 

Pleading  his  mind's  continued  strain 

For  feelings  he  could  not  contain, 

He  turned  to  nobler  thoughts  that  burned, 

And  thanks  for  neighbor  love  returned. 

Told  Old  John's  tale,  and  his  resolve 

Its  truth  or  doubt  at  once  to  solve. 

The  Friends  would  then  no  longer  stay 
To  waste  Deloring's  time  away, 


DOUBTS    AND    ENCOURAGEMENTS.  67 

But,  urging  him  his  fears  to  quell, 
Shook  friendly  hands  and  bade  farewell. 
Their  rumbling  wheels  along  the  ground 
In  dying  distance  soon  resound, 
And  Will  and  John  their  efforts  strain 
To  catch  the  next  convenient  train. 

But  not  until  the  tinkling  call 

The  household  gathered,  one  and  all, 

Around  the  altar  ever  reared 

"Where  God  is  known  and  loved  and  feared ; 

And  John  was  called  from  kitchen  chair, 

To  seek  the  common  Father's  care 

In  joyful  praise  and  humble  prayer. 

The  holy  book  before  him  spread, 
Deloring  first  devoutly  read 
A  psalm  of  deep  submissive  trust, 
Humbling  the  human  heart  to  dust, 
And  seeking  Him  the  worlds  that  made, 
The  promised  strength,  the  promised  aid. 
Then  Emma's  touch  accordance  rung, 
And  voices  joined  in  sacred  song. 


68  MY   NEIGHBOR. 

HYMN. 

SHADE  AND   SUNSHINE. 

When  sunny  skies  above  us  spread, 
And  smiles  the  charming  day ; 

When  fragrant  every  floral  bed 
That  decks  our  shining  way ; 

Thy  helping  presence,  Lord,  we  need 
Lest  joy  our  hearts  betray. 

When  life  is  but  a  vale  of  tears, 

And  vanishes  the  light ; 
When  in  our  sky  no  star  appears 

To  cheer  the  lengthening  night ; 
Thy  help  we  need  to  calm  our  fears, 

Or  put  those  fears  to  flight. 

In  shade  or  sunshine,  night  or  day, 

Be  ever,  ever,  nigh ; 
We  would  thy  warning  call  obey 

And  to  thy  presence  fly ; 
Would  tread  with  care  the  narrow  way 

And  on  thy  help  rely. 


DOUBTS    AND    ENCOURAGEMENTS.  69 

Hushed  were  the  voices,  hushed  the  keys ; 
Died  out  the  answering  harmonies  ; 
And,  kneeling  all  in  reverent  mood, 
JDeloring's  voice  went  up  to  God. 
He  bowed  beneath  bereaving  stroke, 
Yet  thanks  for  mercies  left  he  spoke ; 
For  human  loving-kindness  shown 
Poured  out  his  heart  before  the  Throne  ; 
Prayed  for  each  one  whose  friendly  thought 
Helief  from  gravest  care  had  brought ; 
Blessings  besought  in  earnest  tone 
(He  named  the  humble  name)  on  John, — 
That  rising  sun's  restoring  ray 
Might  drive  each  lingering  mist  away, 
And  twilight  turn  to  fullest  day. 
For  plotting  foes  petition  made, — 
That  God's  great  power  might  be  displayed 
In  guiding  wandering  souls  that  stray 
To  see  the  dangers  of  their  way, 
And  wisdom's  warning  voice  obey. 
Then  leaving  all  in  God's  own  care, 
In  safety  here,  in  danger  there, 
The  future  with  its  mysteries, 
Its  hopes  and  its  uncertainties, 


70  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

He  gave  to  Him  whose  eye  beheld 
The  future  from  profoundest  eld. 

Solemn  each  heart  while  thus  he  prayed  ; 
And  when  devout  Amen  was  said, 
From  Old  John's  choking  voice  again 
Sounded  the  pleading  word  "Amen ! " 


3? art  Fifth. 


THE  OLD  FACTORY. 

At  far-stretched  city's  utmost  bound, 
By  tottering  fabrics  compassed  round, 
Beyond  the  dusky  lamplight's  glare, 
'Mid  filth  to  impregn  the  midday  air 
When  spring  should  bring  dissolving  rain 
And  seething  heats  their  power  regain, 
Stood  a  frame  building,  quaint  and  tall, 
Rising  above  a  basement  wall. 


A  factory  once  the  place  had  been ; 

But  years  had  lapsed  since  had  been  seen 

Beneath  its  roof  thrift's  proud  domain, 

Or  aught  but  struggling  misery's  strain 

From  day  to  day  to  hold  the  life 

"Wasting  in  vice  and  want  and  strife. 

(71) 


72  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

Save  that  at  times  the  abject  poor, 
Honest  perchance,  might  find  a  floor 
Where,  for  small  guerdon,  to  bestow 
Their  few  worn  chattels'  meagre  show, 
And  where,  at  darkening  hour,  to  come 
From  poor-paid  toil  and  call  it  home. 
Or  save  where  sick  and  homeless  wretch 
Might  seek  his  failing  limbs  to  stretch, 
Breathe  to  mute  walls  his  rattling  groan, 
And  die,  unheard,  unhelped,  aloue. 
Ah !  hard  the  lot  of  low  degree 
That  falls  to  virtuous  penury, 
When,  in  the  exigence  of  want, 
It  finds  abode  in  misery's  haunt; 
Like  victim  to  foul  carcass  tied, 
Helpless  his  chain-bonds  to  divide ; 
Or  like  the  wounded  bird  that  crawls 
To  readiest  shelter  where  it  falls, 
Finding — not  safety's  solitude, 
But  poisonous  reptile's  hissing  brood. 

The  building  all  in  darkness  lay, 
For  deepest  midnight  held  its  sway; 


THE    OLD    FACTORY.  73 

Only  the  struggling  stars  gave  light 
Through  scudding  clouds,  that  deep  midnight, 
Or  grimy  snow-heaps  scattered  lay 
Shedding  faint  phosphorescent  ray. 
One  only  window  shed  a  beam  ; 
Twas  where  expiring  embers  gleam 
From  out  the  ashes'  drear  embrace, 
As  eyes'  last  look  from  ashen  face. 

Flickered  in  room  at  topmost  height 
This  scarcely  seen,  inconstant  light, 
Yet  watched  without  by  subtile  eyes 
As  fitfully  it  gleams  and  dies. 
"With  dingy  walls  and  dust  and  mud, 
And  floor  bestrewed  with  scattered  wood, 
With  stifling,  stale,  narcotic  fume, 
And  gouts  of  salivary  spume, 
The  room  a  wretched  aspect  bore. 
On  tumbled  beds  upon  the  floor 
Three  men  were  lounging,  while  the  fire 
"Was  left  to  flicker  and  expire. 

Two  restless  seemed,  and  roundly  swore 
They'd  keep  that  cursed  hold  no  more ; 


T4  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

The  third  restrained  their  fire  and  wrath 
With  equal  vehemence  of  oath. 
Cursing  their  too  impatient  mood 
Their  restless  temper  he  subdued  ; 
Said  that  no  law's  suspicious  cur 
Would  ever  seek  them  where  they  were ; 
Boldly  defied  the  rigorous  search 
Of  eyes  to  find  their  lofty  perch  ; 
Wagered  his  soul's  eternal  rest, 
That  if  they  ventured  from  their  nest — 
Listen  !  a  noise  was  on  the  stair 
And  in  the  passage  to  their  lair  ; 
Now  near  approached  their  high  retreat. 
Start  the  scared  burglars  to  their  feet 
And  scan  their  bolts  with  eyes  discreet. 

The  latch  in  vain  the  intruders  try, 
Their  gentle  knocks  bring  no  reply, 
And  words  of  gentleness  were  vain 
Entrance  or  answer  to  obtain. 
Then  to  solicitations  bland 
Succeed  the  tones  of  stern  command, 
And  threats,  that  if  the  long  delay 
Were  still  prolonged,  to  force  the  way. 


THE    OLD    FACTORY.  75 

The  argument  of  words  was  vain, 

And  that  of  ruder  force  began. 

Blows  followed  blows  ;  but  well-nailed  oak 

Defied  the  too-restricted  stroke, 

For  narrow  was  the  passage  way, 

And  low  the  stooping  ceiling  lay. 

Vainly  the  short-swung  hammers  swept, 

Hinge,  bolt  and  plank  position  kept. 


But  those  who  came  at  midnight  hour, 
Armed  with  the  law's  compulsive  power, 
"Were  not  without  the  means  at  hand 
To  force  as  well  as  to  command. 
Came  levers'  pry  with  stout  arms'  strength — 
And  bolt  and  plank  must  yield  at  length 
To  forces  joined. — Came  wildest  din 
"When,  quickly  opening  from  within, 
The  burglars  fiercest  onset  sprung, 
And  blows  were  given  and  pistols  rung, 
With  clamorous  shouts  of  deadly  fray, 
And  twofold  strength  of  men  at  bay 
Striving  'gainst  odds  to  force  their  way. 


76  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

Sharp  was  the  contest, — but  'twas  brief, — 
For  well-aimed  bullet  struck  their  chief, 
AVho  wounded  fell  at  first  assault, 
And  others'  courage  was  at  fault ; 
The  law's  supporters  onward  pressed, 
And  all  resistance  soon  had  ceased. 
One  with  severe,  disabling  wound 
Lying  upon  the  floor  was  found, 
And  hand  and  foot  they  all  were  bound. 

The  contest  o'er,  they  turn  their  eyes 
To  flames  that  from  the  hearth  arise, 
And  find  the  bright,  rekindling  fire 
Catching  and  blazing,  higher  and  higher, 
With  papers  hurriedly  thrown 
The  few  remaining  coals  upon, — 
For  tell-tale  papers  turned  to  smoke 
Ne'er  yet  the  solemn  silence  broke, — 
But  all  too  late  to  gain  their  end 
Was  this  destructive  measure  planned, 
In  dissipating  air  to  hide 
The  witnesses  to  laws  defied. 
For  part  alone  to  ruin  went ; 
Some  by  the  heated  air's  ascent 


THE    OLD    FACTORY.  77 

"Were  borne  aloft  and  scattered  round 
Over  adjoining  roofs  and  ground ; 
Some  charred  and  half  consumed  were  found; 
While  some  the  stifled  flames  outbraved, 
And  in  uninjured  state  were  saved. 


And  now,  when  tumult  no  more  stirred 
The  midnight  air,  a  groan  was  heard 
That  from  the  passage  floated  in, 
Unheard  amid  the  strife  and  din. 
Cautious  they  went ;  and  searching  round, 
A  prostrate,  bleeding  form  they  found. 
They  bore  it  to  the  light.     The  groan 
"Was  from  the  lips  of  poor  Old  John  ; 
As  close  behind  them  he  had  pressed, 
A  burglar's  ball  had  found  his  breast. 
Dying  he  seemed,  but  soon  revived, 
And  showed  them  where  Aunt  Liddy  lived ; 
But  such  her  tremor  and  affright, 
She  scarce  would  ope  her  door  that  night, 
Till,  all  her  fears  at  length  relieved, 
The  helpless  sufferer  she  received  ; 


78  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

And  the  detectives  bore,  apace, 

Their  fettered  prisoners  from  the  place. 

While  thus  wild  contest  woke  the  night 

At  the  old  factory's  dingy  height, 

Deloring  waited  the  return 

Of  the  detective  force,  to  learn 

Whether  John's  tale  were  sane  and  true — 

Which  only  the  event  would  show. 

When  now  he  learned  the  rogues  were  caught ; 

That  one — their  leader — had  been  shot ; 

Of  all  safe  lodged  in  prison  cell ; 

Of  what  the  stolen  bonds  befell ; 

And  of  the  poor,  old  negro  found 

Bleeding  to  death  with  bullet  wound ; 

Wildly  his  struggling  thoughts  obey 

His  joy's  and  grief's  commingled  play ; 

And,  yielding  to  the  impulse  high 

Which  heart  and  duty  both  supply, 

He  sought  the  scene  of  recent  strife, 

Anxious  to  save  the  old  man's  life. 

'Twas  dark  within  the  dingy  room, 
Although  the  morning  dawn  had  come, 


THE    OLD    FACTORY.  79 

When  Will  Deloring  reached  the  spot 
And  stood  beside  Aunt  Liddy's  cot, 
On  which  the  wounded  negro  lay 
Whose  life  was  ebbing  fast  away. 
His  eyes  were  closed,  and  on  his  breath 
Rattled  the  sullen  sound  of  death. 
The  surgeon  said  that  help  were  vain ; 
To  touch  the  wound  were  but  to  pain, 
To  break  the  slender  vital  chain. 

At  length  Deloring  called  his  name, 
His  eyes  unclosed,  his  senses  came, 
He  moved  his  lips, — but  scarce  was  heard. 
Deloring  stooped  to  catch  the  word. 
"  Master,"  he  whispered,  "  all  is  right ; — 
Without,  it's  dark, — within,  it's  light. — 
Jesus — was  born — in — stable — bed." — 
A  groan — a  gasp — Old  John  was  dead. 

Deloring  mourned  the  humble  friend 
That  thus  so  sadly  met  his  end ; 
And  in  church-yard  at  Ivygreen 
A  small  white  gravestone  may  be  seen, 


80  MY    NEIGHBOR. 

"With  few  brief  words  its  face  upon 

To  tell  its  tale, — Here  Lies  Old  John. 

Deloring  but  in  part  regained 

The  loss  by  burglars'  wiles  sustained  ; 

But  by  his  good  friends'  timely  aid 

He  plied  with  diligence  his  trade, 

And  in  due  time  the  loan  was  paid. 

He  never  failed  in  grateful  meed 

To  friends  so  friendly  in  his  need ; 

But  David  Morton  e'er  would  say, — 

"  It  was  my  mother  led  the  way, 

Thine  was  the  thriving  industry." 

And  George  would  add, — "  He  speaks  for  me." 

"We  hasten  to  our  story's  end  : 
We  saw  two  lovers  slowly  wend 
Their  silent  way,  who  vainly  strove 
Against  the  tide  of  mutual  love. 
We  seize  the  glass  that  gives  our  eyes 
A  view  of  human  destinies. 
We  see  unfold  a  joyous  scene 
As  e'er  beheld  at  Ivygreen. 


THE    OLD    FACTORY.  81 

We  see  amidst  her  maidens  stand 
Our  Susan  Drew ;  and  hand  in  hand 
She's  joined  with  one  of  noble  mien 
As  e'er  by  fondest  eyes  was  seen. 
The  gentle  claimant  claims  his  own 
To  love's  ennobling  bondage  won  ; 
The  willing  captive  yields  her  hand 
To  golden  circlet's  typic  band ; 
In  mutual  chains  the  twain  are  bound, 
And  Edward's  dove  its  leaf  has  found. 
6 


OTHER    PIECES. 


! 


Religious  Meditations. 


NOON  BEYOND. 

The  gloom  of  night  is  hovering  nigh, 
The  pauseless  noontide  westward  flows, 

Gray  vapors  fill  the  earth  and  sky, 
And  fading  twilight  fainter  grows. 

The  forest  outline  fades  away 

And  fails  upon  the  straining  sight, 

And  clouds  that  smiled  upon  the  day 
Grow  black  upon  the  skies  of  night. 

Yet  ever  shines  meridian  sun : 

Beyond  the  twilight  of  the  West, 

Beyond  the  evening's  gathering  dun, 

Beyond  the  skies  in  sable  drest ; 
(85) 


86  RELIGIOUS    MEDITATIONS. 

Beyond  the  sunset's  dying  glow, 

The  farewell  of  the  young,  pale  moon, 

The  sorrowing  night-wind's  requiem  low, 
Beyond,  beyond,  there  still  is  noon. 

Its  splendor  fading  never  knows 

Though  shadowy  the  encircling  night, 

And  sombre  wall  more  plainly  shows 
The  golden  gateway  of  the  light. 

Grow  gray,  ye  mists !  grow  dark,  ye  skies ! 

Grow  black,  impending  night  profound ! 
Beyond,  meridian  splendor  lies  ; 

'Tis  ever,  ever,  noon  beyond. 


THE  WINDS.  87 


THE  WINDS. 

The  winds  that  ever  round  me  roll, 
And  loud  or  low  their  strains  prolong, 

"Wake  varied  passion  in  my  soul, 
And  wake  my  voice  to  varied  song. 

When  gaily  move  the  dancing  leaves, 
And  tall  trees  bow  with  graceful  nod  ; 

When  greets  the  gale  the  answering  waves, 
And  speeds  each  sea-bound  sail  abroad ; 

Then  swells  my  heart  with  cheerful  thought ; 

Then  swells  my  voice  with  cheerful  praise ; 
Then  life  with  richest  joys  is  fraught, 

And  faith  its  highest  hopes  conveys. 

When  sleeps  the  breeze,  and  to  the  eye 
The  wakeful  aspen  moves  alone ; 

When  mirrored  waters  moveless  lie 
In  azure  bowls  of  depth  unknown ; 


88  RELIGIOUS    MEDITATIONS. 

Then  tenderest  thoughts  my  mind  employ; 

In  still  small  voice  my  praises  flow ; 
Then  sweetly  live  my  hope  and  joy, 

With  heaven  above  and  heaven  below. 

And  when  tempestuous  winds  arise, 

And  storms  their  scourging  powers  unchain  ; 

When  low  the  vaunting  oak  tree  lies, 
And  writhing  ocean  roars  with  pain ; 

Oh !  then  with  loftiest  thoughts  I  thrill  ; 

With  boldest  voice  my  songs  arise ; 
For  God  is  in  the  tempest  still, 

And  Heaven's  beyond  the  stormy  skies. 

So  let  the  winds  around  me  roll, 

And  loud  or  low  prolong  their  lays ; 

My  deepest  passion  they  control, 
And  wake  my  voice  to  songs  of  praise. 


ENDLESS    AND    BOUNDLESS.  89 


ENDLESS  AND   BOUNDLESS. 

What  joys  doth  mortal  life  embrace, 
Though  bounded  all  by  time  and  space, 
When  blest  by  God's  uplifting  grace ! 

Yet  to  far  loftier  joys  we  soar 
That  wait  us  on  the  blissful  shore 
When  time  and  space  shall  be  no  more. 

When  spotless,  sinless,  sorrowless, 
We  shall  in  bliss  our  souls  possess, 
Dwelling  in  Heavenly  Love's  caress. 

When  the  soul's  high  felicity, 
From  limit,  end  and  fading  free, 
Shall  boundless,  endless  rapture  be. 

Great  God,  Thy  constant  grace  bestow! 
Make  every  living  fibre  glow, 
While  yet  we  linger  here  below ; 


90  RELIGIOUS  MEDITATIONS. 

That  when  Thy  voice  shall  call  us  hence, 
"We  shall  but  wake  from  slumbering  sense 
To  joys  more  lasting  and  intense. 

Oh  the  blest  thought!  that  we  shall  be 
From  sin's  offending  presence  free, 
In  endless,  boundless  bliss  with  Thee ! 


THE   PRESENT.  91 


THE   PRESENT. 


Is  there  a  Present  ?     Does  the  narrow  line 
That  separates  the  future  from  the  past, 

That  fills  no  space,  that  words  can  ne'er  define, 
The  flash  of  quick  perceptive  mind  outlast  ? 

Does  the  fleet  phantom  an  existence  own, 
"When  our  most  eager  grasp  it  still  eludes? 

Which,  ere  it  can  to  hastening  thought  be  known, 
The  boundary  of  the  swelling  past  includes  ? 

We  stand  between  the  future  and  the  past ; 

We  gaze  upon  the  distant  drawing  nigh ; 
But  ere  our  conscious  sense  can  be  impressed 

The  flitting  scene  forever  has  passed  by. 

There  swells  a  coming  joy  within  our  breast, — 
It  is  a  memory  ere  that  joy  we  clasp ; 

The  brooding  Future  warms  it  in  her  nest, 
The  dragon  waits  his  new-born  prey  to  grasp. 


92  RELIGIOUS    MEDITATIONS. 

The  rippling  wave  that  greets  our  onward  prow 
Joins  with  the  boiling  wake  that  foams  behind ; 

And  such  the  measureless  and  pauseless  Now, 
That  mocks  the  hold  of  the  deluded  mind. 

Call  it  not  Instant,  for  it  stayeth  not, 
But  call  it  Moment,  for  it  ever  moves; 

Call  it  a  touch  that  finds  no  tactile  spot, 
Yet  bears  away  our  nascent  joys  and  loves. 

It  is  but  Memory,  that  with  fairy  wand 

Waves  back  the  hastening  moments  in  their  flight, 

Binds  them  together  in  its  mystic  bond, 

And  charms  our  blindness  into  conscious  sight. 

Oh  blessed  gift !  that  holds  to  human  view 
That  which  would  pass  forever  from  its  ken ; 

That  makes  the  cheating  present  seem  so  true, 
And  dying  moments  live  for  us  again ; 

That  makes  the  transient  joy  abiding  bliss, 
The  breadthless  line  a  spreading  space  to  be, 

The  winged  rapture  linger  with  its  kiss, 
And  the  fleet  phantom  stand  our  scrutiny. 


THE    PRESENT. 


God  holds  the  folded  future  in  his  hands, 
Deals  out  successive  moments  to  the  light, 

Shows  us  their  measure  in  the  dropping  sands, 
And  spreads  the  seeming  Present  to  our  sight. 


94 


RELIGIOUS    MEDITATIONS. 

THE  TOWER. 

Two  outlooks  has  my  tower  high : 

One  opens  near  the  earth, 
"Where  glimpses  only  of  the  sky 
And  of  the  landscape  greet  the  eye, 

But  give  to  loDgings  birth. 

The  other,  from  a  lofty  height, 
Spreads  to  the  charmed  eyes 

A  landscape  stretching  to  the  sight; 

And  broader  scenes  send  back  the  light 
Of  broader,  brighter  skies. 

Below,  shut  in  by  sombre  rocks 

And  forests  towering  high, 
'Tis  all  a  prison  wall,  that  locks 
The  narrow,  mazy  space,  and  mocks 

The  search  of  eager  eye. 

But,  from  above,  my  eyes  can  look 

Through  all  the  winding  ways 
Leading  along  by  vocal  brook, 
By  sunny  green  and  cozy  nook, 
That  seemed  but  darkened  maze. 


THE    TOWER.  95 

And  far  beyond,  the  windings  lead, 

Till  eye  no  more  can  trace, 
To  where  earth's  ampler  beauties  spread, 
And  scenes  to  scenes  remote  succeed 

Till  earth  and  heaven  embrace. 

When  earthly  needs  and  duties  steal 

My  mind  to  cares  below, 
Yet  do  my  loftier  thoughts  impel 
My  hastening  steps,  again  to  dwell 

"Where  scenes  so  charming  glow. 

My  God,  that  tower  is  Thy  grace, 

That  lifts  me  from  within 
The  gloomy  shadows  that  embrace 
The  narrow,  sordid  dwelling-place 

Of  earthly  sense  and  sin. 

And  from  that  tower-height  I  gaze 

Beyond  the  gloomy  wall, 
And  view  the  many  pleasant  ways 
Threading  through  all  the  seeming  maze 

That  holds  the  soul  in  thrall. 


96  RELIGIOUS    MEDITATIONS. 

The  joys  serene,  the  bliss  intense, 

That  loftier  faith  can  know, 
Are  all  unknown  to  human  sense 
Till  lifted  from  the  shadows  dense 
That  darken  all  below. 

I  gaze  and  gaze — until  no  more 

To  finite  sense  is  given ; 
It  cannot  round  the  curving  shore 
Where  mortal  sight  its  search  gives  o'er 

And  earth  is  lost  in  Heaven. 


TO    BE    AND    TO    DO.  97 


TO  BE  AXD  TO  DO. 

Thine  to  be  and  Thine  to  do, 

Glorious  Sovereign,  make  me  thine  ; 
All  I  am  with  thee  imbue, 

All  I  do  with  thee  combine. 
Let  each  throb  my  pulse  that  moves 

Be  a  throb  of  life  divine ; 
Let  each  act  my  will  approves 

Show  that  will  conformed  to  thine. 


While  I  feel  this  feeble  life 

Trembling  through  its  mortal  lot, 
"While  I  wage  unequal  strife 

With  the  foes  that  falter  not, 
In  thy  living  bundle  bound 

May  that  life  be  hid  with  Thee; 
With  thy  pledge  of  victory  crowned 

May  that  strife  a  conquest  be. 
7 


98  RELIGIOUS    MEDITATIONS. 

Living,  dying,  let  thy  love 

My  unfailing  life-blood  be; 
Living,  dying,  let  me  prove 

My  unfailing  love  for  Thee  ; 
In  thy  life  my  life  renew ; 

In  thy  strength  redouble  mine  ; 
Thine  to  be  and  Thine  to  do, 

Glorious  Sovereign,  make  me  thine. 


THEN    FACE    TO    FACE.  99 


THEN  FACE  TO   FACE. 

I  fain  would  joy  in  things  below, 
For  God's  almighty  power  they  show, 
And  blessings  numberless  bestow 
That  o'er  the  thorniest  pathway  grow. 

The  revelations  of  His  love, 
Even  in  our  trials  interwove, 
His  tender,  ceaseless  care  but  prove, 
And  all  my  grateful  passions  move. 

But  oh !  what  joy  my  spirit  wings, 
When  from  its  earthly  couch  it  springs, 
And,  like  the  lark,  it  soars  and  sings, 
And  gazes  on  celestial  things ! 

And  brighter  still  shall  be  the  scene, 
When  no  dark  glass  shall  intervene, 
Nor  wilful  thought,  nor  thought  unclean, 
My  ravished  soul  and  God  between ; 


100 


RELIGIOUS   MEDITATIONS. 


But  when  beyond  earth's  weary  race 
I  shall  repose  in  his  embrace, 
And,  gazing  on  him  face  to  face, 
Forever  praise  Redeeming  Grace. 


MIDWINTER    DAY.  101 


MIDWINTER  DAY. 

Hope  to  desponding  man  comes  near 

"With  truth  from  lore  proverbial  drawn, 
And  whispers  in  his  grateful  ear, — 
In  words  of  comfort,  tones  of  cheer, — 
"The  darkest  hour  precedes  the  dawn." 


And  so,  when  tempests  rule  the  year, 

The  wild  midwinter  day  I  prize ; 
It  speaks  of  vernal  changes  near, 
Of  quickening  life  o'er  Nature's  bier, 
Of  longer  days  and  sunnier  skies. 


I  hail  the  day !     The  fiercest  blast 
And  wildest  surges  may  prevail ; 
But  we  discern  the  shore  at  last, 
"We  know  the  deepest  depth  is  past, 
And  Hope  is  singing  in  the  gale. 


102  RELIGIOUS    MEDITATIONS. 

With  voice  and  heart  I  hail  the  day ! 

'Tis  like  prophetic  storm-born  bow 
That  shines  athwart  our  deluged  way 
Amid  persistent  lightnings'  play 

And  lingering  thunders  muttering  low ; 

And  speaks  of  storms  that  pass  away, 

Of  thriving  Nature's  teeming  wealth, 
Of  torrents  stretching  to  the  sea, 
Of  life  that  springs  from  out  decay, 
And  winds  that  bear  us  joy  and  health. 

So,  when  midwinter  storms  prevail 
And  icy  vapors  cloud  the  breath, 
I  scent  the  summer  in  the  gale, 
And  wild  Midwinter  day  I  hail, — 
For  Life  is  conqueror  of  Death. 


NOTHING    TO    DO    BUT    TO    GO.  103 

NOTHING  TO  DO  BUT  TO  GO. 

A  wanderer   I've  been,  and   have   travelled  for 
years 
By  the  stage-coach,  the  steamboat,  the  train  ; 
I  have  known  joyful  meetings,  have  shed  parting 
tears, 
With  friends  I  might  ne'er  meet  again. 
And  I've  learned — let  my  farewells  be  joyous  or 
sad — 
No  haste  or  distraction  to  show, 
But  with  baggage   pre-checked,  and  with   passage 
pre-paid, 
To  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  go. 

The  loiterer,  when  over  the  iron-clad  track 

The  train  is  heard  coming  apace, 
For  his  ticket  will  clamor,  and  urge  for  his  check, 

In  a  whirl  of  impatient  distress ; 
While  others,  more  timeful,  with  undisturbed  mien, 

Will  composedly  pace  to  and  fro, 
Or,  quietly  seated,  will  wait  for  the  train 

With  nothing  to  do  but  to  go. 


104  RELIGIOUS    MEDITATIONS. 

Oh!  thus  —  I  have  thought  —  when  we're  called  to 
depart 

For  the  laud  whence  we  never  return, 
May  we  feel  we  are  fully  prepared  for  the  start 

When  the  death-sounding  note  we  discern. 
With  our  ticket  secured,  and  our  cares  all  at  rest, 

No  disquieting  thoughts  may  we  know, 
But  tranquilly  waiting  be  found  at  the  last, 

With  nothing  to  do  but  to  go. 


THE    LIGHT    WITHIN.  105 

THE  LIGHT  WITHIN. 

"  The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart,  There  is  no  God." 

Fm  lost  in  high  and  'wondering  awe 

When,  to  my  mental  fastness  fleeing, 
I  to  my  secret  cell  withdraw, 

And  gaze  upon  my  conscious  being. 

Mysterious  "  I ! "     Mysterious  "Am  ! " 
And  thought  mysterious  in  me  dwelling! 

I  know  that  through  this  sensate  frame 
The  fount  of  conscious  life  is  swelling. 

No  proof  I  ask,  no  proof  I  need, 

My  knowledge — to  no  proof  I  owe  it ; 

The  conscious  witness  speaks  with  speed 
In  words  of  power, — "I  feel  it,  know  it." 

I  ope  the  windows  of  my  cell, 

My  outward  sense  my  call  attending 
Seeks  out  the  place  where  others  dwell, 

And  with  their  thoughts  my  thoughts  are  blending. 


106  RELIGIOUS     MEDITATIONS. 

Mysterious  contact !     Mind  with  mind 
In  mutual  recognition  meeting  ! 

Each  consciousness  complete,  defiued, 
And  each  its  conscious  fellow  greeting ! 

I  know  those  minds  commune  with  mine ; 

I  ask,  I  need,  no  proof  to  show  it; 
I  can  no  lucid  cause  assign 

Of  how,  or  why, — I  only  know  it. 

I  give  my  spirit  sense  the  wing ; 

It  soars  to  realms  of  Boundless  Being; 
Reveals  of  creature  life  the  Spring, 

Of  glorious  purpose  the  decreeing. 

I  feel  the  impress  of  a  Mind — 

A  Life  from  ever  to  forever, 
That,  leaving  captious  thoughts  behind, 

Outwings  the  "  nothing  "  and  the  "  never.' 

A  Will  supreme  beyond  my  thought ; 

A  Presence  far  beyond  extension  ; 
Goodness  with  boundless  blessing  fraught ; 

Knowledge  beyond  my  comprehension. 


THE    LIGHT    WITHIN.  107 

Not  in  the  dark  all  nature  dwells, 

'Tis  only  dark  to  blind  debater ; 
Unheeded  chance  the  mind  repels, 

But  grasps — Omnipotent  Creator. 

No  proof  of  this  I  ask  or  need 
Of  weaker  reason's  poor  devising, 

My  inward  sense  conveys  with  speed 
Conviction  solemn,  all-sufficing. 

O  Mind  of  infinite  attribute, 

My  creature  spirit  bows  before  Thee ; 

Not  mine  with  folly  to  dispute, 

But  mine  to  know  Thee  and  adore  Thee. 


Tkust  in  God. 


"WHAT  IS   THAT  TO  THEE?" 

When  I  am  called  to  die, 
To  yield  my  spirit  to  His  sacred  keeping, 
To  rest  my  body  in  the  long,  long  sleeping, 

I  fain  would  not  belie 
My  trust  in  Him  who  doeth  all  things  well, 
Whose  will  alone  my  every  wish  should  quell. 


I  would  not  vainly  choose 
What  road  shall  lead  me  up  the  holy  mountain, 
What  path  conduct  me  to  the  crystal  fountain; 

Nor  willing  be  to  lose 
The  guidance  of  the  hand  that  e'er  has  led 
In  ways  I  knew  not,  but  with  mercies  spread. 
(108) 


"what  is  that  to  thee?"  109 

If  gentle  be  the  call, 
If  faint  and  feeble  be  the  distant  warning, 
Like  dimmest  daystreak  of  the  early  morning, 

Tipping  the  pine  trees  tall, 
And  brighter  growing  till  the  red  east  shines 
With  fullest  glory  on  the  glowing  pines, 

How  grateful  should  I  feel ! 
That  I  might  still  behold  my  loved  ones  longer, 
Might  tarry  till  my  timid  faith  grew  stronger, 

Might  linger  to  reveal 
The  loves  that  buoyant  life  can  ne'er  unveil. 
Like  odor3  evening  only  can  exhale. 

If  sudden  be  the  stroke, 
If  all  unheralded  His  solemn  coming, 
Like  flash,  fast  followed  by  the  thunder's  booming, 

That  scathes  the  skyward  oak, 
While  pale  with  fear  we  hold  our  bated  breath 
In  awe  of  the  swift  messenger  of  death, 

How  blest  the  favored  lot! 
A  lot  to  few  departing  spirits  given — 
Painless  to  pass  from  earth  and  sin  to  Heaven. 

Oh !  surely  it  were  not 


110  TRUST   IN    GOD. 

Departure  we  should  dread,  at  once  to  rise 
On  whirlwind  pinions  to  the  opening  skies. 

So  I  repose  my  trust ; 
And,  whether  speedy  messenger  obeying, 
Or  waiting  patiently  my  Lord's  delaying 

To  summon  me  to  rest, 
On  His  dear  love  my  willing  trust  would  dwell 
He  knoweth  best ;  He  doeth  all  things  well. 


THE    BOW     IN     THE     CLOUD.  Ill 


THE    BOW   IX   THE    CLOUD. 

The  storm  that  rose  upon  the  vale 
And  lashed  the  summer  breeze  to  gale, 

When  -westering  noon  had  sped, 
Its  torrents  to  the  earth  had  poured, 
And  thunders  that  in  wrath  had  roared 

In  sullen  mutterings  fled. 

And  lo !  athwart  the  clouded  east, 
Spanning  the  heavens  in  darkness  drest, 

A  sevenfold  glory  shines  ; 
Pursuing  rays  of  sunset  light 
O'ertake  the  rain-drops  in  their  flight, 

And  pierce  their  lingering  lines. 

And,  with  its  bright,  prismatic  zone 
Binding  the  heavens  and  earth  in  one, 

The  arch  of  triumph  bends ; 
"While  every  charm  that  human  eye 
In  light-born  beauty  can  descry, 

Its  tinted  lustre  lends. 


112  TRUST    IN    GOD. 

That  arch  triumphant  cheers  the  heart ; 
It  bids  pervading  clouds  depart 

And  prostrate  hopes  to  rise : 
God's  time-long  covenant  with  man, 
Betokened  in  yon  glorious  span, 

Is  printed  on  the  skies. 

Thou  crowning  wonder  of  the  storm ! 
While  man  beholds  thy  circling  form 

The  deluged  earth  above, 
Not  all  the  storms  the  earth  that  shake 
Shall  thwart  the  end  benign,  or  break 

God's  Covenant  of  Love. 


THE    EVENING   AND    THE   MORNING."        113 


"THE   EVENING  AND  THE  MORNING." 

"Shall  we  receive  good  at  the  hand  of  God,  and  shall 
we  not  receive  evil?" 

Thy  word,  O  God,  brougnt  forth  the  light ; 
The  radiant  day,  the  sombre  night, 

Both  came  at  thy  command ; 
The  morning's  glow,  the  evening's  chill, 
In  turn  obeyed  supremest  will 

And  spread  o'er  sea  and  land. 


And  not  alone  the  sunny  ray 

That  wakes  the  morn  and  cheers  the  day 

Reveals  thy  glorious  ways  ; 
Day  unto  day,  and  night  to  night, 
In  solemn  voice  proclaim  thy  might 

And  speak  thy  wondrous  praise. 

Oh !  thus,  when  shadows  gather  round 
And  fill  my  heart  with  griefs  profound, 
And  all  my  hopes  are  shorn, 


114  TRUST    IN    GOD. 

The  same  great  power,  I  would  believe, 
Spreads  o'er  my  world  its  darkest  eve, 
That  lights  its  fairest  morn. 

And  eve  and  morn  alike  shall  find 
My  willing  spirit  e'er  inclined 

To  bow  before  thy  throne, 
Thankful,  when  brightness  cheers  my  hour, 
Trustful,  when  gloomy  shadows  lower, 

Thy  sovereign  love  to  own. 

O  yield  thy  help,  my  God,  my  King, 
My  feeble  faith  in  strength  to  bring 

Thy  goodness  to  survey ; 
Let  darkness  hail  the  coming  light, 
And  eve  and  joyful  morn  unite 

To  form  my  perfect  "  Day." 


115 


"NOT  MY  WILL." 

Lord,  what  am  I  that  I  should  strive 

For  peace  and  rest  below, 
A  life  of  joy  and  ease  to  live, 

Nor  pains  nor  toils  to  know? 

To  choose  my  lot,  to  guide  my  way, 

To  task  my  toils,  be  Thine ; 
To  do  my  part  from  day  to  day 

With  humble  trust  be  mine. 

More  than  the  meat  that  can  supply 

Exhausted  nature's  claim, 
More  than  the  tastes  that  charm  the  eye, 

Is  life's  devoutest  aim  : 

To  hear  Thy  voice,  to  do  Thy  will, 

Be  these  my  joy  and  feast, 
With  cheerful  patience  toiling  still, 

Till  pains  and  toils  have  ceased. 


116  TRUST    IN    GOD. 

I  would  not  choose  my  earthly  lot 
Nor  with  earth's  perils  toy ; 

I  would  not  be  where  Thou  art  not, 
And  where  Thou  art  is  joy. 

Unseeing  I  the  way  would  tread 
In  silence  by  Thy  side, 

In  solemn  stillness  bow  my  head 
Whate'er  my  life  betide. 


MAJESTY    AND    MERCY.  117 


MAJESTY  AND  MERCY. 

O  God,  in  majesty  august 
Thou  sittest  on  thy  throne, 

Supremely  great,  supremely  just, 
The  glorious,  holy  One ; 

We  bow  our  heads  unto  the  dust 
Thy  majesty  to  own. 

Let  not  our  feeble  thoughts  pretend 
Thy  deeper  thoughts  to  scan ; 

Our  days  and  years  in  vain  we  spend 
To  search  thy  mighty  plan  ; 

Thou  didst  behold  the  glorious  end 
Ere  days  and  years  begau. 

From  Thee  our  daily  life  proceeds ; 

The  moments  come  from  thee ; 
And  every  moment  as  it  speeds 

Obeys  thy  sole  decree, 
And  thy  creative  mandate  needs 

Ere  moment  it  can  be. 


118  TRUST    IN    GOD. 

To  Thee  no  mystery  appears, 
Nor  small  nor  great  is  known  ; 

Thou  countest  all  the  glittering  spheres 
That  gem  the  starry  zone, 

Yet  tiniest  speck  thy  notice  shares 
As  though  beheld  alone. 

And  us,  but  atoms  in  thy  view, 
Thy  tender  notice  cheers  ; 

Thou  mak'st  thy  blessiugs  ever  new, 
And  numberest  all  our  tears ; 

And  when  to  hope  we  bid  adieu 
Thy  saving  love  appears. 

Still  prostrate  at  thy  feet  we  bow, 

But  lift  our  eyes  above ; 
We  feel  thy  loftiest  presence  now, 

Yet  all  our  fears  remove, 
For  in  the  crown  that  girts  thy  brow 

The  costliest  gem  is  Love. 


THE    GOLD-GIRT    CLOUD.  119 

THE   GOLD-GIRT  CLOUD. 

"Jfine  eye  affecteth  mine  heart" 

How  oft  my  heart  grows  faint, 
And  gloomy  doubts  and  faithless  fears  come  o'er  me, 
Viewing  the  human  woes  that  lie  before  me, 

The  sombre  hues  that  paint 
The  panorama  of  our  shadowy  life, 
Its  sin,  its  misery,  its  toil,  its  strife! 

Oh !  sin  and  woe  and  death  ! 
'Where'er  we  turn,  in  sable  guise  they  meet  us ; 
Where'er  we  list,  in  solemn  tone  they  greet  us ; 

Even  with  our  first  drawn  breath 
Comes  the  wild  wail,  touching,  historic,  brief, 
The  record  and  the  harbinger  of  grief. 

And  on  through  manhood's  prime 
Come  days  and  years  of  suffering  and  of  sorrow, 
Of  doubt  and  dread,  that  see  no  bright  to-morrow 

In  all  the  promises  of  earth  and  time ; 


120  TRUST    IN    GOD. 

No  rock  of  refuge  from  the  burning  sun, 
No  couch  of  comfort  when  the  day  is  done. 

And  ever,  ever,  on, 
Till  bends  the  form  beneath  the  lightest  burden; 
Till  sorrow  is  of  toil  the  only  guerdon  ; 

Or,  ere  that  goal  be  won, 
Comes  shock  the  highest  as  the  humblest  knows, 
The  pitcher  broken  where  the  fountain  flows. 

Thus  faithless  I  complain, 
Fainting  beneath  my  heavy  load  of  anguish ; 
Letting  my  faith  in  God's  great  purpose  languish, 

As  though  His  word  were  vain ; 
Thus  weakly  murmur  at  His  sovereign  will, 
Mindless  that  Infinite  Wisdom  ruleth  still. 

Oh,  let  my  doubts  subside ! 
In  God's  own  time  withdrawn  shall  be  the  curtain, 
In  God's  own  way  the  doubtful  be  made  certain ; 

'Tis  not  for  me  to  chide 
His  long  delaying,  nor  in  grief  to  pine ; 
His  heart  is  far  more  pitiful  than  mine. 


THE    GOLD-GIRT    CLOUD.  121 

But  I  my  part  must  bear 
In  His  blest  mission  to  the  lost  and  lowly, 
Speaking  His  words,  striving  with  purpose  holy 

Their  griefs  to  seek  and  share ; 
Bearing  His  yoke,  doing  His  high  behest, 
Calling  earth's  weary  ones  to  heavenly  rest. 

Oh  for  the  helpful  grace 
To  view  with  solemn  faith  whate'er  befalleth  ; 
To  labor  meekly  where  His  purpose  calleth ; 

All  trustingly  to  trace 
A  Father's  voice  in  Sinai's  thunders  loud, 
A  Father's  smile  in  Sinai's  darkest  cloud ! 


122  TRUST    IN    GOD. 


HUMBLE  ASSURANCE. 

To  know  that  Thou  lovest  me ! — Lord,  can  it  be 

That  though  so  unworthy,  so  prone  to  the  dust, 
To  Thy  bosom  of  tenderness  I,  too,  may  flee, 

And  bury  my  fears  and  repose  all  my  trust  ? 
May  a  creature  so  sinful,  so  faithless  as  I, 

So  resisting  my  heart,  so  unyielding  my  will, 
Unto  Thy  loving  arms  in  full  confidence  fly, 

And  know  that  Thou  lovest  me — lovest  me  still  ? 


To  know  that  Thou  lovest  me ! — yes,  to  believe 

That  the  Saviour  of  sinners  has   knocked  at  my 
door; 
That  Thy  voice  has  commanded  the  dead  to  revive, 

And  bade  the  poor  mourner  to  sorrow  no  more ! 
So  firmly  to  trust  Thee  though  fainting  I  lie ; 

Though  blessings  are  hid,  and  though  every  ill 
Seems  darkening  around,  to  believe  Thee  still  nigh, 

And  know  that  Thou  lovest  me — lovest  me  still ! 


HUMBLE    ASSURANCE.  123 

To  know  that  Thou  lovest  me ! — Praised  be  that  love 

That  falls  like  the  dew  'mid  the  shadows  of  night, 
That  glows  like  the  sun  from  the  heaven  above, 

That  clothes  like  the  snow  in  a  mantle  of  white! 
Y  B,  praised  be  that  love  that,  so  full  and  so  free, 

The  largest  desire  of  my  heart  it  can  fill ; 
So  lowly  descending  it  makes  even  me 

To  know  that  Thou  lovest  me — lovest  me  still ! 

To  know  that  thou  lovest  me! — Savior  divine, 

Let  that  love  so  unbounded  shed  gladness  and 
peace ; 
Round  all  my  heart's  warmest  affections  entwine, 

And  glowing  and  growing  forever  increase ! 
Let  me  breathe  its  sweet  perfume  with  every  breath  ; 

Let  its  dews  o'er  the  shades  of  my  evening  distil ; 
In  the  perils  of  life,  in  the  travails  of  death, 

Let  me  know  that  Thou   lovest  me — lovest  me 
still ! 


124  TRUST    IN    GOD. 


THE  SHINING  CROSS  * 

"When  in  the  thickening  war  of  life 

Eager,  exulting  hosts  assail, 
And  'mid  the  toils  of  battle-strife 

I  feel  my  strength  and  courage  fail, 
I  lift  my  eyes  to  Heaven,  and  there, 

Brighter  than  cloudless  sun,  I  see 
A  shining  cross  and  words  of  cheer : 

"  By  this  shalt  thou  a  conqueror  be." 

Foe  after  foe  comes  surging  on  ; 

United  they  my  strength  defy ; 
My  waning  cause  seems  almost  gone, 

And  wounded  oft  I  prostrate  lie. 
But  oft  as  to  the  skies  I  glance 

The  same  blest  signal  there  I  see ; 
Its  words  have  power  o'er  spear  and  lance : 

"  By  this  shalt  thou  a  conqueror  be." 


*He  [the  Emperor  Constantine]  said  that  about  midday, 
when  the  sun  was  beginning  to  decline,  he  saw  with  his  own 
eyes  the  trophy  of  a  cross  of  light  in  the  heavens,  above  the 
sun,  and  bearing  the  inscription,  "  Conquer  by  this." — Eusebius. 


THE    SHINING    CROSS.  125 

Oh !  when  the  last  great  foe  appears, 

And  wounded  unto  death  I  seem, 
When  rise  the  foe's  insulting  cheers, 

And  pours  abroad  life's  wasting  stream  ; 
Even  then  my  glazing  eyes  shall  ope 

And  still  the  heavenly  vision  see; 
Its  words  shall  still  give  strength  and  hope : 

"  By  this  shalt  thou  a  conqueror  be." 


126  TRUST    IN    GOD. 


THE  BLESSED  ENDING. 

Our  cup,  how  oft  it  overflows 

With  bitterness  and  grief; 
How  long  and  numerous  seem  our  woes, 

Our  joys  how  few  and  brief. 
But  would  we  faith's  great  lesson  learn, 

Let  this  our  thoughts  employ :  — 
The  bitter  shall  to  sweetness  turn, 

The  grief  shall  end  in  joy. 


If  God's  great  purposes  demand 

That  we  should  serve  in  tears, 
Shall  we  His  sovereign  will  withstand, 

And  pine  away  our  years  ? 
Far  better  that  we  meekly  bow 

To  ills  that  now  annoy  ; 
In  His  appointed  time  we  know 

That  grief  shall  end  in  joy. 


THE    BLESSED    ENDING.  127 

Oh  !  life  is  not  a  wasted  field, 

Though  furrows  wide  and  deep 
Destroy  its  surface,  if  the  yield 

With  gladness  angels  reap. 
And  happy  he  who  bares  his  breast 

When  furrowing  ills  destroy ; 
He  knows  that  toil  shall  end  in  rest, 

And  grief  shall  end  in  joy.. 


128  TRUST    IN    GOD. 


"NOTHING  WAVERING." 

i. 
"When  oft  the  cares  and  toils  of  life 

Tax  every  nerve  and  every  thought, 
When  toil  to  only  toil  gives  birth 

And  care  alone  from  care  is  wrought, 
My  spirit,  trustful,  ceases  not 

On  Wisdom  infinite  to  rest, 
Though  Nature  weakly  chides  its  lot, 

Forgetful  that  He  knoweth  best. 

ii. 

In  swift  obedience  to  my  call 

Come  back  the  far-receding  years, 
And  smiles  of  sunshine  o'er  them  fall, 

Or  smiles  are  drowned  in  storms  of  tears. 
But  whether  memory  brings  me  cheer, 

Or  whether  memory  brings  me  pain, 
I  know  His  ruling  hand  was  there, 

I  know  my  every  grief  was  gain. 


129 


in. 

An  ocean,  where  the  billows  chase 

The  billows  in  unceasing  strife, 
Reveals  the  life  I  still  must  face, 

And  change  that  brings  unchanging  life. 
The  ocean  curves  beyond  my  gaze  ; 

It  meets  the  vaster  curving  dome; 
There's  land  beyond  that  blending  maze, 

And  rest,  and  peace,  and  bliss,  and  home. 

IV. 

So  when  earth's  many  toils  and  cares 

Tax  every  thought  and  every  nerve, 
My  trust  in  Him  my  spirit  bears 

To  grasp  the  scenes  beyond  the  curve. 
And  o'er  the  present,  o'er  the  past, 

And  onward  to  the  vast  untried, 
My  faith  its  gaze  serene  shall  cast 

And  trust  Him  still  whate'er  betide. 
9 


130  TEUST    IN    GOD. 


THE  SUN-FLOWER. 

As  turns  the  sun-flower's  golden  face 
Where'er  the  sun's  warm  beams  invite, 

So  turn  thy  gaze,  O  child  of  grace, 
To  seek  His  face  and  see  His  light. 

If  skies  grow  dark  and  hide  his  beams, 
Shroud  not  thy  face  in  gloom  and  sorrow ; 

Even  the  cloud  with  mercies  teems, 

And  sweeter  light  shall  glow  to-morrow. 


" 


Fraternal  and  Humane. 


THE  BLIND  MATCH- VENDER. 

I  passed  along  the  crowded  way 
Where  thousand  footsteps,  day  by  day, 

Impressed  their  wonted  tread  ; 
Where,  strangers  each  to  other's  eye, 
The  eager  crowd  went  hurrying  by, 

Each  by  his  purpose  sped. 

The  heart  of  joy,  the  heart  of  care, 

Of  greed,  of  grace,  commingled  there, 

Yet  each  was  there  alone; 

What  though  the  pleading  face  of  grief 

Wordless  might  tell  its  story  brief, 

Its  grief  was  still  its  own. 

(131) 


132  FRATERNAL   AND   HUMANE. 

And  as  I  mused  upon  the  scene, 

And  watched  the  varied  face  and  mien 

Of  those  who  hastened  by, 
I  heard  a  voice,  so  faint  and  low, 
That  listening  you  might  scarcely  know 

Whence  came  that  feeble  cry. 

I  looked.     A  form  of  ebon  dye, 
Save  that  with  purest  snow  might  vie 

The  curling  locks  he  bore, 
Stood  with  his  back  against  a  wall — 
A  blind  old  man  of  figure  tall, 

But  held  erect  no  more. 

And  ever  and  anon  his  cry 
Besought  the  heed  of  passers-by 

To  humble  wares  displayed; 
But  yet  so  feeble  was  the  song, 
That  none  of  all  that  hurrying  throng 

A  moment's  heed  betrayed. 

Struck  by  the  sable  matchman's  mien, 
I  paused  to  note  the  touching  scene 


THE    BLIND   MATCH- VENDER.  133 

That  filled  my  heart  with  pain ; 
My  pity  owned  his  gentle  plea, 
And  much  I  mourned  the  poverty 

That  made  that  pity  vain. 


At  length  a  gentle  form  drew  nigh, 
With  wonted  pity  in  her  eye, 

Practised  in  kindly  deed ; 
She  saw  the  figure  gaunt  and  tall 
That  leaned  against  the  garden  wall, 

She  heard  the  cry  of  need. 


And  ignorant  of  gazer's  eye, 
Mindless  of  crowd  that  jostled  by, 

She  paused  before  his  stand, — 
Sought  for  her  purse  with  instinct  true, 
The  price  of  largest  parcel  drew, 

And  placed  it  in  his  hand. 


And  when  that  shrivelled  hand  conveyed 
To  hers  the  purchase  she  had  made, 


134  FRATERNAL   AND   HUMANE. 

Nor  tongue  forgot  its  thanks, 
Quickly  she  forward  leaned,  replaced 
The  purchased  goods  with  noiseless  haste, 

And  joined  the  moving  ranks. 


If  pitying  pain  had  rent  my  heart, 
To  note  the  old  man's  fruitless  art 

An  honest  meed  to  gain, 
Faster  my  throbbing  pulses  came, 
Viewing  a  scene  that  well  might  claim 

Recording  angel's  pen. 


For  kindly  purpose  there  I  traced, 
When  she  the  purchased  goods  replaced 

So  softly  on  the  stand — 
The  purpose  of  a  generous  mind, 
That  he  an  honest  pride  might  find, 

Nor  feel  the  pauper's  brand. 

Oh !  if  more  blest  the  hand  that  gives 
Than  that  which  worldly  boon  receives, 


THE   BLIND   MATCH-VENDER,  135 

TheD  blest  indeed  are  they 
"Who,  honoring  Nature's  diadem, 
Tear  not  from  penury  its  gem 

Of  self-respect  away. 

In  vain  do  we  the  hand  outstretch 
To  raise  to  life  a  dying  wretch, 

If  yet  his  manhood  dies; 
But  well  the  sufferer's  needs  to  scan, 
And  make  him  feel  himself  a  man, 

Brings  blessings  from  the  skies. 


136  FRATERNAL  AND  HUMANE. 


THE  SACRED  BOND. 

In  meditative  mood  I  gaze 

Beyond  the  aerial  sphere  that  bounds  me 
To  spheres  remote,  where  starry  rays 

Fill  the  vast  azure  that  surrounds  me, 

And  yield  my  faith, — that  each  bright  orb 
Through  space  unfathomable  rolling 

Is  drawn  to  each,  with  mystic  curb 

One  sphere  each  other  sphere  controlling. 

I  cast  around  my  searching  eye : 

Throughout  all  Nature's  realm  it  findeth 

One  grand,  one  universal  tie, — 
Matter  all  other  matter  bindeth. 


How  near  soever  or  remote, 
What  form  soever  it  possesses, 

Howe'er  concealed,  howe'er  minute, 
Atom  each  atom's  power  confesses. 


THE   SACRED   BOND.  137 

And  so  doth  spirit,  spirit  draw; 

Adjacent  or  far  severed  straying, 
They  heed  the  universal  law, 

Impulse  reciprocal  obeying. 

As  atom  on  each  atom  acts 

In  mutual  influence  entwining, 
As  orb  each  other  orb  attracts 

In  one  grand  circling  whole  combining, 

So  mind  to  miud,  and  soul  to  soul. 

Hath  tie  no  creature  will  may  sever, 
Whether  in  orbits  near  they  roll 

Or  seek  remotest  distance  ever. 

And  He  who  loves  the  humblest  soul 
That  e'er  his  holy  Image  beareth — 

His  far  affection  draws  the  whole; 

His  beams  each  wandering  atom  shareth. 

Oh!  could  unclouded  sight  reveal 

The  truth  to  which  our  pride  so  blinds  us, 

Our  quickened  love  might  make  us  feel 
The  bond  that  to  our  brother  binds  us. 


138  FRATERNAL   AND  HUMANE. 


MY   BROTHER. 

11  This  commandment  have  we  from  him,  that  he  who 
loveth  God  love  his  brother  also." 

Dweller  in  station  low, 
Whether  the  stream  beneath  thy  pulses  beating 
And  that  beneath  my  own  claim  kindred  greeting, 

Or  whether  in  us  flow 
Dissevered  currents  that  at  distance  glide 
And  only  mingle  in  a  far-off'  tide, 

Fraternal  tie  I  claim : 
I  claim  thee,  as  a  common  life-blood  sharing; 
I  claim  thee,  as  a  common  Image  bearing; 

Whate'er  thy  tribe  or  name, 
My  brother  thou,  though  severing  paths  we  tread, 
As  widening  rays  from  common  centre  spread. 

I  care  not  that  the  brand 
Be  set  on  thee  of  weary,  restless  toiling ; 
Of  aspect  mean  from  penury's  despoiling; 


MY   BROTHER.  139 

That  thy  extended  hand 
Be  rough  and  flinty  in  its  uncouth  clasp — 
It  is  my  brother's,  and  that  hand  I  grasp. 

I  care  not  if  thy  voice 
Be  raised  in  prayer  the  Infinite  One  addressing, 
Or  words  of  naught  to  senseless  gods  expressing; 

Or  whether  taught  thy  choice 
To  list  devoutly  the  muezzin's  call, 
Or  vainly  to  deny  the  All-in-all, 

Thou  hast  a  human  soul : 
Thou  bearest  still  His  image  in  thy  bein£ ; 
Art  still  regarded  by  the  great  All-Seeing; 

To  the  same  solemn  goal 
Thy  feet  and  mine  in  speedy  motion  stride; 
In  life's  great  struggle  strive  we  side  by  side. 


Beareth  thy  face  the  glow 
Of  light  from  Presence  holy,  Love  supernal, 
From  high  communion  and  from  hopes  eternal; 

Or  gathers  on  thy  brow 


140  FRATERNAL   AND   HUMANE. 

The  scowl  of  passions  vile,  of  dark  intent, 
The  gloom  of  soul  on  fiendish  purpose  bent, 

Brothers  no  less  we  are: 
Bloodwashed,  thou  art  to  me  a  sacred  treasure ; 
Bloodstained,  thou  needest  love  in  greatest  measure 

To  seek  thee  wandering  far ; 
The  nine  and  ninety  all  were  left  behind 
When  the  kind  Shepherd  would  the  lost  one  find. 

Brother  of  low  degree, 
I  may  not  pause  too  narrowly  divining 
Thy  inmost  heart,  or  cause  on  cause  assigning 

Of  grief  and  sin  in  thee ; 
But  I  may  seek,  in  all  fraternal  love, 
The  veil  of  sin  and  sorrow  to  remove. 

And  my  full  faith  may  soar 
Afar  to  see  of  that  blest  day  the  shining, 
When  war  and  wail,  oppressing  and  repining, 

Shall  fill  the  earth  no  more  ; 
When  all  the  hills  shall  shout  with  gladsome  voice, 
And  all  the  valleys  with  the  hills  rejoice. 


MY   BROTHER.  141 

Father  of  infinite  grace, 
Loving  thy  sinful  ones  with  love  parental, 
Guide  my  far  footsteps,  as  by  star-beams  gentle, 

Thy  Image  still  to  trace  ; 
Help  me  my  duty  in  thy  fear  to  scan, 
To  see  my  brother  in  my  fellow-man. 


142 


FRATERNAL   AND    HUMANE. 


LOVE'S  SURGERY. 

The  drooping  boughs  of  great  elm  trees 

A  rural  seat  o'erhung, 
And  merry  brooklet's  melodies 

Filled  the  sweet  air  with  song. 

And  there  a  youthful  mother  whiled 

A  summer  hour  away, 
While,  on  the  flowery  sward,  her  child 

Could  freely  stroll  and  play. 

'Mid  buttercups  and  daisy  disks 

Around  the  field  he  ran, 
And  bold  essays  and  courted  risks 

Proclaimed  the  budding  man. 


Until,  at  length,  by  some  mischance 
Too  slight  for  muse  to  tell, — 

Some  childish  want  of  vigilance, — 
He  tripped  his  foot  and  fell. 


love's  surgery.  143 

Oh !  then  arose  impassioned  cries 
That  drowned  the  brooklet's  brawl ; 

And  ready  tears  o'erflowed  his  eyes, 
Obedient  to  the  call. 

The  surgeon-mother  soon  arrived 

To  soothe  the  fancied  pain ; 
His  wounds  her  healing  kiss  received, 

And  all  was  well  again. 

Again  in  youthful  wealth  of  life 

Revelled  the  happy  boy, 
Forgetful  of  the  recent  grief, 

And  lost  in  present  joy. 

Ah !  not  alone  in  infant  years 

Do  fretful  fancies  reign, 
And  find  a  source  of  woes  and  tears 

Where  scarce  may  be  a  pain  ; 

And  wounds,  for  which  we  vainly  try 
Trained  surgeon's  skill  to  prove, 

May  quickly  heal,  if  we  apply 
The  surgery  of  love. 


144  FRATERNAL    AND    HUMANE. 

INSTINCTIVE  FRATERNITY. 

"Every  one  members  one  of  another." 

Have  you  ne'er  felt,  when  slumber's  hand 
Has  in  its  mazy  meshes  bound  you, 

And  drawn  you  to  the  dreamy  land 

Where  fancies  wild  and  weird  surround  you, 

That  in  the  instincts  of  the  mind, 
Slowly  but  surely  on  you  creeping, 

Conviction  steals — faint  or  defined — 
That  some  eye  gazes  on  you  sleeping? 

It  matters  not  how  softly  came 

The  friend  or  foe  that  on  you  gazes ; 

You  feel  it,  know  it,  all  the  same, 

And  start  from  out  your  dreamy  mazes. 

Fled  in  a  moment  is  your  sleep ; 

Quickly  your  eye  the  intruder's  catches ; 
And  looks  of  fear  or  favor  leap 

From  him  that  wakes  to  him  that  watches. 


INSTINCTIVE    FRATERNITY.  145 

Whence  the  impression  that  betrays 
The  gazing  presence  to  you  dreaming? 

And  what  mysterious  power  conveys 
To  inward  mind  the  outward  seeming  ? 

Explain  it  as  you  can  or  will, 

As  spirit  force  or  force  magnetic, 
It  is  no  less  a  mystery  still — 

A  sense  instinctive,  sympathetic. 

It  is  no  spirit-caller's  cheat, 

Kor  whim  that  morbid  mind  discloses ; 
On  what  no  reason  may  admit 

A  keener  consciousness  reposes. 

Reject  not,  wondrous  though  it  be, 

This  sense  that  stands  with  stern  defiance ; 

The  ear  to  hear,  the  eye  to  see, 
Are  they  less  mysteries  to  science  ? 

But  trace  the  nobler  sympathies 

From  soul  to  human  soul  extending, 

Where  love  to  fellow  love  replies, 

Echo  with  answering  echo  blending. 
10 


146  FRATERNAL   AND    HUMANE. 

To  this  our  loftier  consciousness 

In  pleading  terms  its  witness  beareth ; 

To  this  the  Word  Divine  no  less 
In  voice  imperative  declareth, — 

That  each  shall  seek  another's  good ; 

That  each,  fraternal  tie  discerning, 
Shall  send  a  brother's  love  abroad, 

And  find  a  brother's  love  returning. 


THE    SKYLIGHT.  147 


THE  SKYLIGHT. 

Shut  in  from  morn's  saluting  rays, 
And  from  the  sunset's  farewell  gaze, 
Its  only  sunlight  noontide  blaze, 

The  lofty  attic  stood  aloof 
From  human  kindness  or  reproof, 
"Which  rarely  sought  that  sloping  roof. 

The  cheery  sparrow's  twittering  note 
Or  song  from  bluebird's  mellow  throat 
From  the  surrounding  eaves  would  float; 

Nor  would  the  captivating  strain 
Seek  the  lone  woman's  ear  in  vain, 
Who  sat  beneath  the  skylight's  pane. 

She  was  the  sole  inhabitant, 

A  child  of  grief  and  toil  and  want 

Who  there  long  earned  a  pittance  scant. 


148  FEATERNAL   AND    HUMANE. 

Her  toiling  needle  knew  no  rest 
Till  long  the  sun  had  left  the  west, 
And  feeble  lamp  had  shone  its  best. 

Her  constant  toils  but  bread  could  earn, 
And  oft  with  shame  her  heart  would  burn 
To  find  herself  her  sole  concern. 

But  flowering  hopes  had  yielded  naught, 
While  sickness  many  a  pain  had  wrought, 
And  age  its  feebleness  had  brought. 

She  keenly  felt  her  lonely  lot, 

But  patient,  trustful,  murmured  not; 

God's  promises  were  ne'er  forgot. 

Oft  would  she  upward  cast  her  eyes 

To  sunlit  or  to  starry  skies, 

Or  heavens  in  dark  and  gloomy  guise. 

Seen  through  the  skylight,  to  her  eye 
"The  placid  heavens  seemed  ever  nigh, 
Nor  stars  at  distance  vast  to  lie. 


THE    SKYLIGHT.  149 

And  gazing,  gazing,  day  by  day, 

She  thought  the  heavenly  shining  way 

But  very  little  farther  lay. 

So  long  that  skylight,  day  and  night, 
Revealed  its  glories  to  her  sight, 
They  grew  to  be  her  chief  delight ; 

And  in  her  simple,  childlike  faith, 
She  thought  her  latest  dying  breath 
"Would  waft  her  spirit  there  at  death. 

Incessant  longings  filled  her  breast 
To  soar  unto  that  heavenly  rest, 
And  be  forever  with  the  blest. 

Ofttimes  beneath  her  roof-framed  light 
She  knelt  to  seek,  in  mood  contrite, 
Help  from  the  Helper  infinite ; 

Help  for  the  weary  limbs  and  mind, 
Help  her  impatient  will  to  bind, 
And  in  her  Saviour  comfort  find- 


150  FRATEKNAL    AND    HUMANE. 

And  comfort  came — when  comes  it  not 

To  palace  or  to  humblest  cot, 

When  in  God's  hands  we  yield  our  lot  ? 

"  God's  ways  are  good,"  her  thought  would  be, 
"  Tis  only  toil  awhile  for  me, 
And  then,  oh  then,  comes  liberty ! 

"  Beyond  the  clouds,  beyond  the  sun, 
Beyond  the  brilliant  starry  zone, 
I  shall  find  rest,  and  toil  be  done." 

'Twas  years,  long  years,  that  saw  her  wait 
Submissive  to  her  low  estate, 
A  patient  knocker  at  the  gate. 

And  when  at  last  the  time  drew  nigh, 
She  sought  beneath  the  glass  to  lie, 
And  gazing  on  the  heavens  to  die. 

They  missed  her  from  the  accustomed  ways ; 
They  sought  her  in  the  old  dwelling's  maze; 
They  found  her  'neath  the  skylight's  rays. 


THE    SKYLIGHT.  151 

A  peaceful  smile  illumed  her  face ; 
Her  lifeless  features  shone  with  grace 
That  left  of  parting  pangs  no  trace. 

On  heaven  had  she  fixed  her  eyes, 

And  passed  from  longings,  toils  and  sighs, 

From  fading  to  unfading  skies. 


152  FRATERNAL   AND    HUMANE. 


THE  CAPTIVE  AND  THE  BIRD. 

Year  after  lingering  year  a  captive  lay 
In  dungeon  deep,  where  scarce  an  arrowy  ray 
Sped  from  the  azure  bow  could  entrance  find, 
To  pierce  the  darkness  of  the  eye  or  mind. 
For  circling  close  around  the  window  lone 
Rose  high  the  outer  walls  of  rough,  dark  stone, 
So  high  and  dark,  they  cheered  not,  as  it  fell, 
The  feeble  ray  that  sought  the  captive's  cell 
Freighted  with  kindly  comfort  from  above, 
A  heaven-sent  messenger  of  light  and  love ; 
But,  like  dishonest  almoner,  whose  hold 
Retains  for  selfish  use  the  master's  gold, 
The  greedy  walls  drank  in  the  precious  light, 
And  left  the  lonely  heart  in  gloom  and  night. 

And  thus  the  victim  of  ambitious  ends, 
Shut  off  from  comfort,  and  the  love  of  friends, 
And  commonest  bounties  from  His  hands  that  fall 
Who  sends  His  sun  and  rain  alike  to  all, 


THE    CAPTIVE    AND    THE    BIRD.  153 

Long  years  had  pined,  until  each  earthly  hope 
Died  from  his  breast ;  as  flowers  on  sandy  slope, 
Beneath  unclouded  sun  and  deuiess  stars, 
Yield  up  their  moisture  to  the  thirsty  airs 
And  shrink  and  die,  so,  helpless,  hopeless,  pined 
His  dying  body  and  despairing  mind. 


But  one  bright  day — for  even  unto  him 
There  yet  was  change  from  faintest,  feeblest  gleam 
To  gleam  less  faint  and  feeble,  as  the  sun 
Slanted  his  rays  or  shone  at  steeper  noon — 
On  one  such  day,  the  startled  captive  heard 
The  unaccustomed  sound  of  warbling  bird, 
That,  perched  upon  the  wall,  in  joyous  strain 
Poured  floods  of  music  through  the  grated  pane. 
It  filled  with  strangest  gladness  all  the  cell ; 
The  captive's  stagnant  pulse  renewed  its  swell ; 
And,  from  his  clouded  eyes,  in  torrents  rained 
The  watery  tribute  from  a  hope  regained. 

And  day  by  day  that  warbler's  music,  fraught 
With  sweet  companionship,  its  blessing  wrought. 


154  FRATERNAL    AND    HUMANE. 

Each  morn  the  captive  sought  the  dungeon  pane 
To  listen  to  the  wild-bird's  welcome  straiu, 
And  clutched  and  stretched  toward  the  grated  light, 
And  strained  to  raise  him  to  the  window's  height, 
Striving,  if  haply  thus  his  toils  might  tend, 
To  bring  him  nearer  to  the  unseen  friend 
Whose  helpful  mission  yielded  such  delight — 
The  benefactor  hidden  from  the  sight. 

Night  after  night  the  captive  sought  his  rest 
With  brighter  hope-fires  kindled  in  his  breast, 
And  dreamed  of  long-lost  hours  with  dear  ones  spent, 
With  loving  voices  and  with  music  blent. 
Far  distant  echoes  of  the  past,  but  clear, 
Came  floating  to  the  listening  dreamer's  ear, 
Seeming  experiences  of  long  ago, 
And  yet  a  joyous  present  seeming  too. 
Blest  phantoms  of  the  silent  night,  that  seem 
More  like  prophetic  vision  than  a  dream  ! 
That,  seek  as  may  we  to  dispel  their  power, 
Hold  us  in  bondage  to  life's  latest  hour ! 

"O  bird  of  blessed  omen !" — high  and  loud 
The  captive's  voice  uprose  one  day,  when  flowed 


THE    CAPTIVE    AND    THE    BIRD.  155 

A  richer,  sweeter  strain  of  gushing  song 
That  nearer  yet  its  melodies  outrung, — 
"  O  bird  of  blessed  omen !  it  is  you 
Has  taught  my  deadened  hopes  to  bud  anew. 
Tis  not  a  chance  your  tuneful  note  is  given ; 
Your  voice  prophetic  speaks  of  fetters  riven. 
The  favoring  day  is  dawning  on  my  sight 
That  gives  me  back  to  liberty  and  light. 
Soon  shall  my  eyes  in  undreamed  vision  see 
The  home  I  long  for,  and  I  shall  be  free." 

His   wild   cry  ceased,  —  and   ceased    the   warbler's 

strain ; 
Frightened  it  flew,  and  never  came  again. 
The  captive  listened  daily,  daily  bare 
The  burden  of  renewed,  increased  despair; 
Until  one  night  a  friend  in  need  drew  near, 
And  whispered  softly  in  the  dreamer's  ear: 
He  dreamed  of  friends  and   home,  of  loved  ones 

nigh, 
Of  wild-bird's  singing  and  of  cloudless  sky. 
Slowly  the  song  assumed  seraphic  tone ; 
The  growing  light  with  brighter  radiance  shone; 


156  FRATERNAL  AND    HUMANE. 

From  glory  unto  glory,  high,  serene, 

The  views  dissolving  changed  to  rapturous  scene, 

And  shining  multitudes  bestowed  the  hand 

Of  welcome  to  the  sinless,  tearless  land. — 

The  Friend  in  need  the  captive's  bonds  had  broke ; 

To  dungeon  darkness  never  more  he  woke. 


Young  Persons 
A.s   Chief  Actors 


FRIENDS  IN  NEED. 

"Within  an  humble  cottage  yard 

There  grew  a  slender  tree, 
That  stretched  its  kindly  arms  to  guard 

A  seat,  where  children  three 
"Would  often  gather  at  their  play, 
And  laugh  and  sport  the  hours  away. 

And  on  the  upright,  solid  stem, 
Just  where  the  branches  sprung, 

Sheltered  beneath  a  leafy  limb, 
A  tiny  house  was  hung  ; 

And,  nailed  securely  to  the  wood, 

It  thus  from  year  to  year  had  stood. 

(157) 


158  YOUNG    PERSONS    AS    CHIEF    ACTORS. 

And  in  that  tiny  tenement 
A  tinier  brood  was  reared  ;  — 

'Tvvas  said  the  self-same  tenants  went, 
By  custom  time-revered, 

And  dwelt  beneath  the  fragile  eaves 

Thus  sheltered  by  the  shady  leaves. 

The  trustful  birds  no  danger  feared 
From  Nelly,  Kate  or  Will ; 

For  well  these  children  had  been  reared 
Their  duties  to  fulfil, 

And  leave  unharmed  the  flitting  pair 

All  trustingly  sojourning  there. 

So  in  and  out,  from  early  dawn 

Till  evening  shadows  fell, 
With  worms  collected  from  the  lawn, 

Or  larva  from  its  cell, 
The  busy  parent  birds  would  fly 
Their  hungry  offspring  to  supply. 

But  when,  one  afternoon,  the  breeze 
Was  changed  to  ruder  blow, 

And  rough  winds  shook  the  pliant  trees, 
And  boughs  waved  to  and  fro, — 


FRIENDS    IN    NEED.  159 

The  feet  the  rotted  floor  expel, 
And  floor  and  nest  and  nestlings  fell. 

Oh,  what  a  screaming  cry  of  fright 

Comes  from  the  parent  birds  ! 
And  birdling  throats  their  griefs  recite 

As  plainly  as  by  words ; 
But,  though  affrighted,  jarred  and  tost, 
No  limb  was  broke,  no  life  was  lost. 

The  unlucky  chance  the  children  saw, 

And  hasted  to  the  scene, 
Where,  prompted  by  love's  kindly  law, 

The  scattered  birds  they  glean : 
And  Will,  who  was  the  oldest,  said, — 
"  We'll  make  a  new  floor  for  their  bed." 

Nor  was  the  kindly  purpose  vain ; 

But,  though  the  hands  untaught 
Labored  the  object  to  attain, 

And  all  in  earnest  sought 
To  do  the  very  best  they  could, 
And  save  the  hapless,  fallen  brood, 


160  YOUNG    PERSONS    AS    CHIEF    ACTORS. 

Yet  older  fingers  helped  to  store 

The  nest  again  in  place, 
To  fasten  in  the  newer  floor 

"With  stronger  nail  and  brace  ;  — 
And  then  the  cry  of  grief  was  done, 
And  as  before  events  went  on. 

And  thus  it  was  these  children  three, 

"With  pious  precept  blessed, 
Thought  only  how  of  use  to  be 

In  helping  the  distressed  ;  — 
But  so,  in  doing  what  they  ought, 
They  found  their  own  enjoyment  wrought. 


CLIXG    CLOSE    TO    ME.  161 


CLIXG  CLOSE  TO  ME. 

Two  children  o'er  a  dangerous  stream 
Would  make  their  way,  and  childlike  seem 

In  venturous  mood  to  be. 
The  one  ten  summers  scarce  has  known, 
Yet  stout  and  strong  his  limbs  have  grown ; 
But  weak  and  small  the  younger  one 

That  bears  him  company. 


The  stream  is  rapid,  dark  and  deep, 

O'er  which  the  adventurous  children  creep, 

So  cautious,  yet  so  brave ; 
A  narrow  plank  the  banks  unite, 
Spanning  the  stream  with  bridge  so  slight, 
That  small  mis-step  of  either  might 

Plunge  both  into  the  wave. 


Yet  Archie  feels  but  little  fear 

While  brother  Robert  is  so  near 
11 


162    YOUNG  PERSONS  AS  CHIEF  ACTORS. 

To  strengthen  and  to  guide ; 
And  closely  clinging,  as  he  must, 
"With  grasping  hands  but  childlike  trust, 
To  Robert's  person  more  robust, 

He  seeks  the  farther  side. 


And  thus  with  trust  dismissing  fear 
He  hears  the  elder  brother's  cheer, — 

"  Brother,  cling  close  to  me !  " 
And  clinging  thus,  and  yielding  still 
His  every  effort,  act  and  will 
His  brother's  counsels  to  fulfil, 

He  finds  security. 


Oh!  thus  may  I,  through  dangers  led, 
Seeking  the  narrow  way  to  tread, 

Find  strength  and  guidance  too; 
Clinging  to  Him  who  ever  near 
Bids  me  dismiss  my  faithless  fear, 
Whose  cheering  promises  I  hear 

My  confidence  to  woo. 


CLING    CLOSE    TO    ME.  163 

And  when  I  cross  the  swelling  tide 
And  feel  Him  near,  my  Brother  Guide, 

May  this  my  comfort  be, — 
To  hear  the  voice  I  love  so  well 
Cheering  above  the  waters'  swell, 
My  lingering  terrors  to  dispel, 

"  Brother,  cling  close  to  me." 


164  YOUNG   PERSONS    AS    CHIEF    ACTORS. 


THE  LOW-BUILT  NEST. 

Last  April,  near  my  cottage  door, 
In  a  low  branch  of  Juniper, 

♦Scarce  hid  from  passing  gaze, 
A  pair  of  summer  songsters  made 
Their  little  nest,  in  which  were  laid 
Four  speckled  eggs ;  and  there  essayed 

Their  tiny  brood  to  raise. 


I  said  it  was  a  silly  thing, 

"With  power  of  flight  and  strength  of  wing, 

To  build  their  nest  so  low ; 
And  much  I  feared  that  soon  or  late, 
So  near  the  ground,  so  near  the  gate, 
The  unfledged  young  would  meet  their  fate, 

Seized  by  some  prowling  foe. 


My  little  girl  of  ten  would  oft 

Peep  through  the  foliage  green  and  soft, 


THE    LOW-BUILT    NEST.  165 

And  watch  the  growing  brood  ; 
And  merrily  would  ofttimes  tell 
Of  noisy  twitter,  and  the  swell 
Of  cavernous  throats,  expanded  well 

To  take  the  expected  food. 


But  one  sad  day,  with  frantic  cries, 
And  heart  distressed,  and  streaming  eyes, 

There  came  my  little  maid  ;  — 
The  birds  were  to  be  found  no  more, 
And  scattered  plumage  streaked  with  gore, 
And  marks  that  feline  traces  bore, 

Too  well  the  end  betrayed. 


I  soothed  the  simple,  sorrowing  child, 
Urged  her  to  calm  her  grief  so  wild, 

And  pressed  her  form  to  mine ; 
I  told  her  how  each  living  thing 
That  creeps  below,  or  soars  on  wing, 
In  all  its  joy  and  suffering 

Fulfilled  His  high  design. 


166  YOUNG    PERSONS   AS    CHIEF    ACTORS. 

And  then  I  fain  a  moral  drew, — 
I  said, — "  My  dearest  child,  if  you 

Would  shun  the  spoiler's  eye, 
Fix  not  your  brooding  hopes  below, 
Where  griefs  and  disappointments  grow, 
Where  murderers  prowl  and  thieves  break  through, 

But  build  your  nest  on  high." 


THE    NAME    IN    THE   SAND.  167 


THE  NAME  IN  THE  SAND. 

Some  children,  wandering  on  the  shore, 
Fearless  amid  the  ocean's  roar, 

Sat  down  to  read  and  rest ; 
And  one,  with  skilled  and  steady  hand, 
Where  waves  retreating  from  the  land 
Had  left  the  wide-spread  slope  of  sand, 

Her  name  adroitly  traced. 

Then  laughed  aloud  with  hearty  glee, 
And  danced  with  merry  feet,  to  see 

The  words  engraved  so  well ; 
And  thought  that  when  the  tide  should  rise 
Her  name  would  meet  the  wondering  eyes 
Of  startled  nymphs,  in  various  guise, 

Beneath  the  waves  that  dwell. 


For,  with  a  child's  inventive  thought, 
Her  teeming  fancies  wildly  wrought 


168    YOUNG  PERSONS  AS  CHIEF  ACTORS. 

The  peopling  of  the  wave ; 
And  so  she  thought, — how  pleased  they'd  be, 
Those  sportive  fish-nymphs  wild  and  free, 
To  read  her  name  beneath  the  sea, — 

"Which  in  full  length  she  gave. 


The  rising  tide  came  booming  on, 
And  her  companions,  one  by  one, 

Retreated  from  the  sea ; 
But  she,  with  beating  heart  and  brave, 
Still  watched  the  ever  gaining  wave, 
As  her  slow,  lingering  steps  'twould  lave, 

And  turn  again  and  flee. 


At  length  with  gathering  might  it  came, 
Swept  with  full  force  across  the  name, 

Then  back  to  ocean  flowed  ; 
And  when  the  foam  had  cleared  away, 
Before  her  eyes  the  sand-floor  lay, 
But  not  one  lettered  trace  to  say 

Where  late  the  full  name  showed. 


THE    NAME    IN    THE    SAND.  169 

TheD,  slowly  as  the  child  forsook 
The  sandy  sea-beach,  and  betook 

Herself  to  homeward  way, 
A  solemn  voice  her  ear  would  win, — 
Whether  from  oat  the  wild  waves'  din, 
Or  still  small  voice  that  spoke  within, 

I  leave  for  you  to  say;  — 

For  holy  thoughts  were  oft  instilled 
Into  the  bosom  of  the  child 

From  sacred  lessons  given  ;  — 
The  voice  said, — "  Daughter,  may  your  name 
Be  graven  on  the  Saviour's  palm, 
The  Living  tablet  of  the  Lamb, 

Which  angeh  read  in  heaven." 


170  YOUNG    PERSONS   AS    CHIEF   ACTORS. 


THE  PRATTLER  GUIDE. 

" Children's  children  are  the  crown  of  old  men" 

Lean  on  my  arm,  Dear  Grandpapa, 

You're  old  and  weak  and  blind  ; 
Your  feeble  steps  too  weary  grow, 

And  tax  your  weary  mind  ; 
Along  the  rugged  path  there  lie 
Dangers  that  you  could  ne'er  descry, 
But  you  may  on  my  care  rely 

The  safer  way  to  find  ;  — 
Lean  on  my  arm,  Dear  Grandpapa, 

You're  old  and  weak  and  blind. 


I'll  not  forget,  Dear  Grandpapa, 
The  love  you've  shown  for  me ; 

How  oft  I've  slept  upon  your  lap 
And  trotted  on  your  knee ; 


THE    PRATTLER    GUIDE.  171 

How  oft  I've  heard  your  charming  tales 
Of  wanderings  through  the  hills  and  vales, 
Of  tossing  ships  and  dangerous  gales 

And  perils  of  the  sea  ;  — 
Lean  on  my  arm,  Dear  Grandpapa, 

Your  faithful  guide  I'll  be. 


Your  love  for  me,  Dear  Grandpapa, 

Grows  not  the  less  with  years, 
For  sorrows  oft  your  heart  has  known, 

And  streamed  your  eyes  with  tears, 
O'er  dear  ones  you  have  laid  beneath 
The  grassy  canopy  of  death, 
In  snow-white  shroud  and  fragrant  wreath,- 

As  well  your  memory  bears ; 
So  lean  on  me,  Dear  Grandpapa, 

And  love  shall  quell  your  fears. 

Now,  here's  the  bridge,  Dear  Grandpapa, 
That  spans  the  mountain  stream; 

Keep  close  to  me,  and  do  not  let 
My  aid  too  childish  seem  ; 


172    YOUNG  PERSONS  AS  CHIEF  ACTORS. 

Keep  close  and  closer  to  my  side, 
We'll  safely  cross  this  fissure  wide, 
Through  which  the  murmuring  waters  glide, 

And  sparkle  in  the  gleam 
Of  crimson  clouds,  Dear  Grandpapa, 

Reflecting  sunset  beam. 


There, — now  we've  crossed,  Dear  Grandpapa, 

And  here's  our  pleasant  cot, 
"Where  peace  and  love  alone  shall  rule 

And  strife  shall  enter  not. 
So,  as  my  hand  my  heart  obeys, 
May  I,  to  guide  your  feeble  ways 
Through  the  brief  remnant  of  your  days, 

This  hand  and  heart  devote, — 
To  lead  you,  Dearest  Grandpapa, 

And  cheer  your  lonely  lot. 

And  One  there  is,  Dear  Grandpapa,— 
You've  known  Him  long  and  well, 

"Who  loves  you  more  than  I  can  love, 
And  more  than  tongue  can  tell ; 


THE    PRATTLER    GUIDE.  173 

And  when  you  cross  the  waters  drear, 
His  strong  right  arm  will  still  be  near 
Your  tottering,  struggling  steps  to  cheer, 

And  all  your  fears  to  quell, — 
To  guide  you  home,  Dear  Grandpapa, 

In  joy,  for  aye,  to  dwell. 


174    YOUNG  PERSONS  AS  CHIEF  ACTORS. 


MY  MOTHER. 

When  I  was  a  little  fellow, 
Often,  on  my  mother's  breastt 

Would  I  find  a  welcome  pillow 
Where  my  head  could  softly  rest. 

Often,  when  my  little  troubles 
Would  my  childish  bosom  rend, 

When  of  baby  life  the  bubbles 

Broke,  and  naught  of  joy  remained, 

Would  I  seek  that  fount  of  gladness, 
Welling  from  exhaustless  deep, 

That  could  drive  away  my  sadness, 
And  my  troubles  soothe  to  sleep. 

Often,  too,  with  joy  abounding, 
Would  I  climb  upon  her  knees, 

That  I  might,  with  arms  surrounding, 
Seek  my  mother's  sympathies ; 


MY    MOTHER.  175 

For,  in  gladness  as  in  sorrow, 
Finds  the  trusting,  loving  heart, 

That  it  shall  more  gladness  borrow 
When  its  joy  it  shall  impart. 

Many  an  hour,  her  hopes  revealing, 
Would  she  teach  me  how  to  live, 

Lessons  in  my  heart  instilling 
Such  as  Christian  mothers  give ; 

Telling  me  of  love  and  duty 
That  I  owed  to  Him  who  died  ; 

Of  that  Saviour's  love  and  beauty, 
Of  that  Saviour  glorified. 

When  the  busy  day  was  closing, 
All  my  weary  powers  oppressed, 

In  her  loving  arms  reposing 
Would  I  seek  my  wonted  rest ; 

Finding  in  her  simple  singing, 

In  her  soothing  lullabies, 
Sweetest  music,  quickly  bringing 

Sweetest  slumber  to  my  eyes. 


176    YOUNG  PERSONS  AS  CHIEF  ACTORS. 

Childhood's  griefs  and  childhood's  pleasures 

Have  departed  long  ago, 
And  my  mother's  mellow  measures 

Long  have  ceased  my  sleep  to  woo ; 

But  her  form,  her  love,  her  teaching, 

Live  in  keenest  memory  yet; 
May  I  be  a  long  time  reaching 

Where  my  mother  I'd  forget. 


HAPPY    JENNIE.  177 


HAPPY   JENNIE. 

"It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive.' 

Busy  hands  and  busy  feet, 

Smiling  face  and  sparkling  eyes!- 

Duty,  here,  and  pleasure  meet, — 
Pleasure  in  that  duty  lies. 

Busy  fingers  weave  a  sock 

Brilliant  with  its  scarlet  dyes  ; 

Busy  feet  the  cradle  rock 
Where  the  baby  brother  lies. 

Busy  feet  and  busy  hands,  — 
Jennie's  mind  is  busy  too  :  — 

"While  her  labors  she  commands 
Happy  thoughts  her  fancies  woo. 

Stitch  to  stitch  and  round  to  round, 

By  and  by  the  socks  are  done, 

And  the  patient  labor  crowned, 

And  the  looked-for  pleasure  won. 
12 


178    YOUNG  PERSONS  AS  CHIEF  ACTORS. 

What's  that  pleasure,  think  you,  now, 
Can  the  patient  child  so  win 

That  her  hands  more  busy  grow, 
That  her  feet  fresh  toil  begin  ? 

"What  the  hope  her  toils  beguiles 
With  such  pleasantness  and  power 

That  in  all  her  face  it  smiles, 

Sweetening  all  the  present  hour? 

'Tis,  that,  when  the  socks  complete, 
With  their  closings  tight  and  trim, 

Grace  yon  little  sleeper's  feet, — 
Pleasure  it  will  give — to  him. 

Of  herself,  no  thoughts  abide, — 
'Tis  alone—"  How  glad  he'll  be 

When  upon  his  feet  they're  tied, 
And  he  kicks  with  baby  glee ! " 

Happy — O  thrice  happy  child! 

Early  to  attain  to  this, — 
That  you  are  to  bliss  beguiled 

When  you  seek  another's  bliss. 


Miscellaneous. 


TEMPERANCE  SOXG. 
we've  left  them  all  behind  us. 

In  myriad  forms  temptations  rise, 

In  every  guise  they  woo  us, 
They  flaunt  their  sweets  before  our  eyes, 

And  lure  us  to  undo  us. 
They  vainly  lure,  they  vainly  plead, 

Their  spells  no  longer  bind  us, 
For  by  His  help  whose  help  we  need 

We've  left  them  all  behind  us. 

They  tempt  us  in  the  foaming  cup, 
In  sparkling  glass  they  bubble, 

They  fill  the  bowl's  expansion  up 
The  social  joy  to  double  ; 

(179) 


180  MISCELLANEOUS. 

But  slavery  is  their  sole  reward, 
And  chains  no  more  shall  bind  us, 

For  by  His  help  to  freedom  stirred, 
We've  left  them  all  behind  us. 

O  brothers !  let  us  join  the  hand 

And  vow  upon  the  altar ; 
"With  solemn  pledge  we  take  our  stand, 

And  never  must  we  falter. 
Not  ours  the  poor  inebriate's  grave, 

Not  theirs  the  power  to  bind  us, 
For  by  His  help  whose  help  we  crave 

We've  left  them  all  behind  us. 


THE    OLD-TIME    WATCHMAN.  181 


THE  OLD-TIME  WATCHMAN. 

Ih  days  long  past, — the  olden  time, — 

In  quietness  our  fathers  slept ; 
And  little  feared  was  midnight  crime, 

Though  few  the  watchmen  guard  that  kept. 
Truncheon  in  hand  its  comfort  lent, 

A  rattle  in  his  belt  was  borne, 
When  forth  to  chant  the  hour  he  went, 

Or  tell  the  tidings  of  the  morn. 


The  midnight  was  a  solemn  hour 

To  urchins  schooled  in  ghostly  lore, 
And  when  the  threatening  clouds  would  lower, 

And  stars  would  lend  their  light  no  more, 
'Twas  then  we  heard  the  watchman's  cry, 

So  wild,  unearthly  and  forlorn, 
Bear  witness  to  portentous  sky, — 

"  Past  twelve  o'clock  and  a  cloudy  morn  !" 


182  MISCELLANEOUS. 

And  when  the  surcharged  clouds  would  pour 

Their  teeming  contents  to  the  ground, 
Our  constant  guardian  ne'er  forbore 

Promptly  to  tread  his  wonted  round ; 
Dripping  and  drenched  his  steps  to  ply ; 

In  faithfulness  to  watch  and  warn ; 
But  plaintive  rose  his  midnight  cry, — 

"  Past  twelve  o'clock  and  a  rainy  morn ! " 


Yet  oft  the  skies  serenely  smiled, 

And  stars  would  wake,  and  winds  would  sleep, 
And  summer's  tranquil  joys  beguiled 

The  watchman  on  his  midnight  keep ; 
Then  would  his  cheerful  voice  resound 

Like  sweetest  tones  of  mellowest  horn, 
Proclaiming  to  the  world  around, — 

"  Past  twelve  o'clock  and  a  starlight  morn ! " 

So,  when  the  moon's  recurring  light 
Poured  o'er  the  world  exuberant  ray, 

And  Chanticleer  awoke  the  night 
With  vain  salutes  of  fancied  day, 


THE    OLD-TIME    WATCHMAN.  183 

Then,  when  the  midnight  chimes  were  tolled, 
The  cheery  chant,  of  pleasure  born, 

Around  the  stilly  air  was  rolled, — 

"Past  twelve  o'clock  and  a  moonlight  morn!" 

Those  days  are  gone, — that  olden  time, — 

In  quietness  our  fathers  sleep, 
And  they  who  watched  the  midnight  chime 

Beside  them  lie  in  slumbers  deep; 
Yet  still  in  darkest  hours  I  hear — 

Of  screaming  train  or  fancy  born — 
The  watchman's  cry  resounding  clear 

To  tell  the  tidings  of  the  morn. 


184  MISCELLANEOUS. 


HOUSTONIA  CERULEA. 

'In  grassy  fields  and  meadows,  from  early  spring  till 
autumn" — Barton. 

Dear  flower  of  lowly  mien,  thy  bed 
Is  not  upon  the  mountain's  brow, 

Where  cedars  rise  with  lofty  head, 
Scorning  the  humble  vales  below ; 

But  down  beside  the  meadow  streams 
Thou  lov'st  thy  sky-blue  leaves  to  spread, 

Where  morning's  warmest  welcome  beams, 
And  evening's  fullest  tears  are  shed. 

The  warbling  sparrow,  oft,  her  nest 
Will  hide  among  thy  tufts  of  blue ; 

The  meadow  lark  will  bathe  her  breast 
Amid  thy  humid  foliage,  too ; 

And  many  a  bird  of  plumage  gay, 
At  the  near  brook  or  tiny  lake, 

Will  brush  thy  petals,  on  its  way 
Its  feet  to  lave,  its  thirst  to  slake. 


HOUSTONIA    CERULEA.  185 

There,  sweetly,  in  thy  lowly  bed, 

From  early  spring  till  summer's  close, 

"While  many  a  gaudy  flower  lies  dead, 

Thy  clustering  gems  their  charms  disclose. 

Or  o'er  thee  bend  the  sunny  skies, 
Or  darkened  arch  above  thee  lowers, 

Still  smiling  there  thine  azure  eyes, 
Thy  modest,  cerule  tufts  of  flowers. 

"When  from  the  city  strifes  I  flee 

My  palsied  pulses  to  revive, 
I  find  my  sweetest  rest  with  thee, 

And  in  thy  bower  again  I  live. 

Even  when  darkening  eve  invades — 
Deepest  and  darkest  in  the  vale — 

I'd  rather  seek  thy  humble  shades 
Than  on  the  lofty  mountain  dwell ; 

For  well  I  know  that  there  is  light 

From  stars  amid  the  far-off  blue, 
Unseen  from  glare  of  mountain  height, 

But  seen  and  blest  from  lowlier  view. 


186  MISCELLANEOUS. 

OPENING  OF  THE  SIXTH  SEAL. 

And  the  sixth  seal  was  opened, — and  behold! 

The  earth  was  shaken  to  its  deepest  cell; 
And  mountains,  that  through  circling  years  untold 

Had  stood  the  rage  of  time  and  tempest,  fell; 
And  flames   and   lava   gushed   from  where  they'd 

stood, 
And  wrapped  the  groaning  earth  in  fiery  flood. 

And  lo!  the  sun  on  high  no  longer  blazed, 

But  stood  in  black  and  rayless  darkness  there ; 

And  the  fair  moon  was  stricken,  too,  and  gazed 
Upon  the  heaviug  earth  with  bloody  glare. 

Star  after  star  forsook  its  place  on  high, 

And  wildly,  swiftly,  swept  the  troubled  sky. 

The  heavens,  that  had  held  their  high  control 
Since  darkness  first  was  parted  from  the  light, 

Were  rolled  together  as  a  mighty  scroll  ; 

And,  as  the  swift-winged  eagle  takes  his  flight, 

So  they  departed ;  and  the  boiling  wave 

Below  gaped  wide  with  many  a  yawning  grave. 


OPENING    OF    THE    SIXTH    SEAL.  187 

And  fear  was  on  each  living  soul : — the  kings, 
The  rich  men  and  the  valiant  ones  of  earth, 

The  wise,  with  all  that  human  wisdom  brings, 

The  great  men,  bondmen,  freemen,  cursed  their 
birth, 

And  hid  them  from  the  terrifying  sight 

In  mountain  dens  and  caverns  deep  in  night. 

And  overwhelmed  with  terror  and  despair, 

With  eyeballs  starting  from  their  bloodshot  beds, 

They  called  upon  the  tottering  masses  there 
To  fall  in  crushing  ruin  on  their  heads, 

Their  guilty  spirits  from  His  face  to  hide — 

Whose  day  of  vengeance  who  shall  e'er  abide ! 


188  MISCELLANEOUS. 


THE  MOTHER'S  LEGACY. 

The  mother  took  her  little  boj, 
Her  only  hope  of  earthly  joy 

And  of  her  earthly  care; 
She  told  him  of  that  Holy  One 
Whose  searching  eye  no  thought  could  shun, 
Who  knew  whatever  he  had  done, 

And  heard  the  feeblest  prayer. 


She  told  him  of  the  Saviour's  love, 
Who  left  the  glorious  world  above, 

And  bore  the  cross  and  died  ; 
That  'twas  to  save  our  souls  from  death 
He  drank  the  unmingled  cup  of  wrath ; 
For  us  he  gave  his  willing  breath ; 

For  us  was  crucified. 


And  then  the  mother's  hands  were  laid 
Upon  his  head ;  and  oh !  she  prayed 
That  God  would  be  his  friend, 


the  mother's  legacy.       189 

And  keep  him  with  a  father's  care 
From  folly's  way,  from  folly's  snare, 
From  bold  or  secret  sins,  that  bear 
The  wicked  to  their  end. 

But  should  temptations  e'er  beguile 
His  steps  from  wisdom's  path  the  while, 

And  sinful  passions  grow  ; 
That  still  her  blessing  might  be  there ; 
And  deep  in  memory  he  might  bear 
His  mother's  words,  his  mother's  prayer, 

When  her  own  head  were  low. 

The  scene  has  changed.     Far  years  have  rolled 
Their  onward  waves  between — behold, 

The  boy  is  changed  to  man ! 
And  tempted  now  by  pleasure's  path, 
Wealth's  golden  lure,  ambition's  breath, 
Down  the  dread  steeps  of  sin  and  death 

That  reckless  mortal  ran. 

And  far  through  many  a  clime  he  went, 
And  many  a  weary  hour  he  spent, 
To  gain  the  world's  poor  gear; 


190  MISCELLANEOUS. 

But  wheresoe'er  his  footsteps  led, 
His  mother's  arms  were  round  him  spread, 
His  mother's  hands  were  on  his  head, 
Her  blessing  reached  his  ear. 

In  vain  the  unholy  crowd  he  sought, 
And  maddening  pleasures  dearly  bought, 

And  paths  of  folly  trod ; 
In  every  pleasure,  every  sin, 
In  midnight's  silence,  daylight's  din, 
That  still  small  voice  was  heard,  to  win 

The  wanderer  back  to  God. 

'Tis  heard ! — 'tis  felt ! — his  course  is  stayed, 
And  mercy's  call  at  length  obeyed, — 

The  sorrowing  sinner  prays ; 
And  angels  strike  in  heaven  the  string, 
And  loud  and  far  hosannas  sing, 
That  God,  by  human  means,  should  bring 

One  sinner  from  his  ways. 


THE   GIPSY    WANDERER.  191 

THE   GIPSY   WANDERER. 

A  PARAPHRASE. 

'Twas  dark  and  cold,  a  winter's  night, 
The  farmer  by  his  fireside  bright 

Enjoyed  its  warmth  and  cheer, 
"When  a  faint  cry  without  the  door 
Came  mingling  with  the  night-wind's  roar 

That  swelled  upon  his  ear. 

"  O,  let  me  in !  " — such  was  the  cry, 
"  O,  let  me  in !  I  faint,  I  die, 

Here  in  the  bitter  blast !  " 
The  farmer's  kindly  heart  was  moved, 
He  thought  of  one, — the  lost  and  loved, — 

And  bade  his  servant  haste. 

Quickly  the  door  was  opened  wide, 
And  hastening  to  the  farmer's  side 

Came  a  young  gipsy  maid. 
His  brow  with  instant  anger  bent, 
Hi3  eye  quick,  angry  flashes  sent, 

His  voice  no  welcome  said. 


192  MISCELLANEOUS. 

"  Go,  get  thee  gone !  "  he  quickly  cried, 
"  Evil  the  gipsy  race  betide 

"Where'er  they  wandering  go ! 
Of  all  I  once  held  dear  bereft, 
How  little  to  rny  heart  they've  left 

None  but  myself  can  know  !  " 

"Kind  master,"  said  the  youthful  guest, 
"As  late  our  tribe  the  church-yard  passed 

I  paused  a  moment  there; 
I  thought  of  where  my  mother  lay 
Low  in  a  church -yard  far  away — 

Alas  !  I  know  not  where. 

"While  thus  I  mused  nor  thought  of  harm, 
Suddenly  came  the  blinding  storm, 

And  thick  the  snow-flakes  fell. 
All  blinded  by  the  driving  snow, 
My  limbs  grew  weak,  my  step  grew  slow, 

My  way  I  could  not  tell." 

"  Tis  false ! "  the  angry  farmer  cried, 
"  I  know  that  gipsy  tongue  has  lied ; 


THE    GIPSY    WANDERER.  193 

'Twas  craft  that  brought  thee  here. 
Even  now  thy  thievish  gang  lurks  nigh, 
And  o'er  the  plunder  how  thy  eye 

Roams  with  a  fiendish  leer !  " 

Shrieking  upon  the  floor  she  fell. — 

*  Oh,  help  the  child  !  she  knows  you  well !  " — 

'Twas  thus  the  servant  spake — 
"  She  is  thy  own  long  stolen  child, 
And  thoughts  that  throng  her  bosom  wild 

The  cords  of  life  may  break !  " 
13 


194  MISCELLANEOUS. 


WEARY  WITH  TRAVEL. 

'Tis  gathering  near  the  evening  hours, 

Long  since  have  drooped  the  mid-day  flowers, 

O  partner  true  and  tried! 
And  many  a  mile  we've  left  behind 
Since  you  and  I  together  joined — 
There,  where  the  pleasant  paths  combined — 

To  journey  side  by  side. 

So  ardent  we,  so  full  of  bliss, 

We  sought  no  choicest  joys  to  miss 

That  filled  the  happy  way ; 
What  cared  we  for  the  rugged  road, 
For  sharpest  thorns  our  path  that  strewed, 
For  winds  that  blew,  for  sun  that  glowed 

With  fiery  noontide  ray! 

But  weary  now  of  toil  and  race, 
We'll  pause  amid  this  pleasant  place 
Our  jaded  feet  to  rest. 


WEARY    WITH    TRAVEL.  195 

We'll  talk  of  all  the  toilsome  day, 
Of  scenes  that  beautified  the  way 
Though  which  our  ardent  journey  lay, 
Through  which  we  onward  pressed. 

Ah!  weary  one!  you  drowsy  grow; 
Our  toil  has  been  too  great  for  you, 

Though  blended  with  delight. 
I  fain  would  have  you  wake  awhile 
The  lonely  evening  to  beguile, 
With  me  to  chat,  with  me  to  smile 

O'er  memories  green  and  bright. 

Already  sleeping!     Then  I'll  place 

This  snow-white  stoue  your  head  to  grace, 

And  this  your  feet  to  keep. 
Sleep  sweetly,  love!     Ay,  sweetly  now 
Sleep  with  this  kiss  upon  your  brow, 
And  on  your  lips  I  press  it  too; — 

Ah  ! — peaceful  be  your  sleep! 

And  I — a  little  longer  yet, 
Wakeful,  unrestful,  let  me  wait 
Till  comes  the  shadier  night. 


196  MISCELLANEOUS. 

Watchfully,  silently,  I'll  tread 
Around  the  marble  at  your  head ; 
Then  stretch  ray  limbs  beside  your  bed, 
And  wait  the  morning  light. 


RURAL    SERENADE.  197 


RURAL  SERENADE. 

'Neatii  dark  blue  skies  all  sparkling  lies 

The  dewy  vale  before  us, 
For  day  has  fled,  and  night  has  spread 

Its  misty  mantle  o'er  us. 
O  sleep  to-night  with  bosom  light 

As  winds  their  balm  that  bear  thee ; 
And  visions  blest  adorn  thy  rest 

Of  loved  ones  ever  near  thee. 

The  forest  piles  its  shadowy  aisles, 

Like  high-arched  temples  springing, 
With  winged  choirs  and  thousand  lyres 

In  chorus  wild  out-ringing. 
Then  sleep  to-night, — the  breezes  light 

The  distant  song  shall  bear  thee, 
And  soothe  thy  rest  with  visions  blest 

Of  loved  one  chanting  near  thee. 

The  silent  skies  with  myriad  eyes 
Are  bending,  beaming  round  thee, 


198  MISCELLANEOUS. 

And  milky  zone  around  is  thrown 
As  if  in  love  it  bound  thee. 

Then  sleep  to-night  with  fancies  bright 
As  starry  eyes  above  thee ; 

With  visions  sweet  of  eyes  that  greet 
And  living  hearts  that  love  thee. 


SONG.  199 


BONG. 


GENTLE    SPIRIT,    LOVED    AND    LOVING. 

Gentle  spirit,  loved  and  loving, 
Dost  thou  guard  my  lonely  hours? 

When  I  hear  my  curtain  moving, 
Is  it  thou  the  tassel  stirs? 


Art  thou  ever  waiting,  watching, 
Present  still  though  far  away, 

Every  loot  and  movement  catching, — 
Is  it  thou,  my  loved  one,  say  ? 

If  thy  loving  self  could  only 

With  thy  loving  thoughts  but  glide, 

Then  were  I  no  longer  lonely, — 
Thou  wert  ever  by  my  side. 


200  MISCELLANEOUS. 


TO  AN  UNKNOWN  FRIEND. 

How  bright  the  world !     What  pleasures  blend 
Even  with  our  pains!     What  comforts  lend 

Their  joys  serene  to  life! 
For  God  has  given  us  many  a  green 
And  sunny  spot  to  deck  the  scene, 

Even  in  a  world  of  grief. 

But  blest,  indeed,  the  lot  of  one 
Who  deems  that  life  is  but  begun, 

When  called  upon  to  die. 
Be  thine,  O  friend,  the  faith  to  see, 
Beyond  this  bright  mortality, 

The  brighter  life  on  high. 


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