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WALDEN'S 


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THE  AUTHOR  DESIRES  TO  DEDICATE 


TO  THE 


CAUSE  OF  EDUCATION  ANJ>- 


SECOND   EDITION 


WASHINGTON: 

PUBLISHED  BT  THE  AUTHOR. 
1873. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873,  by 

Islat  Walden,  in  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of 

Congress,  at  Washington. 


HOWARD  UNIVERSITY, 
Washington,  D.  C,  July  26,  1872, 
I  believe  the  facts  as  stated  in  the  following  Introduction 
to  be  strictly  true,  and  take  pleasure  in  commending  Islat 
Walden  to  a  generous  public  for  such  aid  as  can  be  given 
him,  in  his  effort  to  obtain  an  education. 

A.  L.  BARBER. 
Prtf.  Nat,  Phil  and  Priiu  Nor.  Dept.  H,  £T. 


WAR  DEPARTMENT, 

Paymaster  General's  Office, 

Washington,  August  1,  1872. 

I  take  pleasure  in  commending  to  the  reading  public  the 
author  of  this  work,  Mr.  Islat  Waldbn,  now  of  this  city.  Of 
the  worth  of  his  writings  I  leave  careful  readers  to  judge  ;  of 
his  own  worth — his  perseverance,  integrity  and  Christian 
character — I  can  speak  in  terms  of  praise,  after  years  of  careful 
observation.  From  the  time  of  his  coming  to  Washington,  in 
tho  winter  of  1867-'G8.up  to  the  present  date,  I  have  watched 
with  interest  and  pride  his  steady  growth  in  grace,  his  rapid 
mental  development,  his  unceasing  devotion  to  principle,  and 
his  earnest  labors  in  behalf  of  the  poor  of  his  race,  who  surely 
will,  in  days  to  come,  remember  and  bless  him  for  his  coun- 
sels. His  work  in  organizing  Sabbath  Schools  among  the  poor 
colored  children  of  this  city,  as  well  as  hia  labors  among 
those  who  could  not  thus  be  reached,  by  reason  of  their  in- 
firmities, we  know  and  cannot  too  highly  approve.  And  all 
this  persevering  study,  this  devotion  to  duty,  is  the  more  to 
be  commended,  as  we  remember  his  affliction,  a  defective 
vision — at  times  almost  blindness — which  alone  would  have 
served  to  keep  a  less  devoted  servant  in  the  background. 

I  trust  this  his  first  venture  will  meet  with  the  success  it 
deserves ;  that  his  quaint  rhymes  may  please  and  profit  all 
who  read  them ;  that,  whatever  may  be  the  faults  of  metre, 
critics  will  not  lose  sight  of  the  eloquence,  originality  and 
real  beauty  of  thought  that  are  found  in  his  work. 

J.  L.  H.  W1NF1ELD. 


CONTENTS 

§o§ 


Introduction -.., -.-.-.  7 

Introductory  Verses  ....                     ......    -.  11 

The  Daneer 13 

ToS.  3.  N 14 

Doubt                    15 

Jesus.                                                                                  . .  15 

Eulogy  on  a  Classmate  .    17 

Prayer  for  the  School 13 

Temperance 19 

MyRe:-^: ...  1 1 

Letter  to  Miss  Smitherman                                                   .  20 

One  to  L  -                                                                     .  24- 

The  Sa                                                ....           24 

The  X                                                                        25 

Eden .27 

The  L; 

Love's  3 30 

OurM                 Ok 32 

The  Yg      -        i'a  Comforter 35 

.  of  Self ...  35 

To  my  Benefactor,  Dr.  D.  B.  N                                          .  3n 

To  Ml                    Her  First  Effort  at  Shirt-making 37 

Inquirv .  N.  N.  Gray 37 

Grace'                     33 

Ode  to  General  O.  0.  Howard    38 

The  Prince  of  Peace                                41 

Letter  to  Dr.  See.                                                                .  . .  42 

To  a  Friend 43 

On  a  S  

Call  to               -School  45 

To  tho  Graduating  Class                 46 

On  a  Friend ^~ 

A  Lady  Friend                                        ^* 

Introd  Additional  Poems    


G  CONTENTS. 

To  the  Faculty  of  Howard  University 52 

To  Alfred  Horner , *-. 54 

To  Miss  Crane 56 

Letter  to  Rev.  Mr.  Hartraught  .  .  . ., 57 

To  John  K.  Smith,  of  Trenton,  N.  J 58 

Dedicated  to  a  Young  Lady 59 

Wish  for  an  Overcoat 62 

To  Hon.  Senator  Pomeroy 66 

To  Miss  N.  J 67 

Gratitude 70 

To  Professor  Atherton .' 71 

The  Golden  Rule  :  Its  Introduction  at  the  University. ...  73 

To  Miss  W***** 75 

Ode  to  Mr.  Dunlap  and  Family 76 

The  Widow 78 

An  Address  to  Dixie 80 

The  Icy  Poem 83 

Dedicated  to  the  Junior  Society 88 

The  Hand  of  Death  Invisible 90 

Correspondent  Solicited 91 

In  honor  of  Dr.  Jos.  Taber  Johnson , 92 

Place  Thy  Trust  in  God 94 


INTRODUCTION. 


Isiay  Walden  was  bora  a  slave  in  Randolph  County  North 
Carolina.  His  master  died  when  he  was  tin  infant,  and  he 
was  sold  twice  in  his  mothers  arms.  When  eight  or  ten  years 
old  he  attracted  a  good  deal  of  attention  \>j  his  ingenuity  in 
the  use  of  carpenter's  tools,  and  for  great  aptness  in  reckon- 
ing. His  master  would  take  him  to  market  to  mat©  "his  calcu- 
lations for  him,  and  bets  were  frequently  made  by  himself  and 
friends  on  May's  being  able  to  perform  certain  difficult  cal- 
culations in  three  minutes  time.  These  calculations  were  all 
mental ;  he  never  had  the  least  training  from  books. 

His  master  learned  to  value  his  services  in  keeping  things 
in  order  about  the  place,  making  little  repairs,  etc.,  so  that 
he  was  never  put  to  hard  work. 

From  the  failure  of  his  owners,  he  changed  hands  several 
times.    His  mother  died  when  he  was  about  eight  years  old. 

When  about  eighteen  years  old  he  was  engaged  at  a  gold 
mine  in  driving  oxen.  The  owner*  was  a  very  passionate  man, 
and  was  so  angry  one  day  that  he  was  about  to  strike  an  ox 
to  the  ground  with  a  mattock.  Walden  remonstrated,  saying, 
"  The  ox  will  die.:?  It  fell  dead  in  a  few  moments.  They 
threw  its  body  into  a  pit  where  a  shaft  had  been  &unk, 
and  while  they  were  standing  over  it  Walden  made  and  re- 
cited impromptu  his  first  verses — 


*  Of  this  gentleman,  [Mr.  John  MerTon,]  and  his  estimable  family, 
Isley  Walden  speaks  in  warm  terms  of  commendation,  a  rivalry  seeming 
to  exist  among  them  as  to  who  could  do  the  most  to  contribute  to  his  gen- 
eral comfort,  whether  at  his  labors  as  a  slaye,  or  aa  careful  and  sympa- 
thizing attendants  in  sickness. 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

"Poor  Old  Dick, 
He  died  qnick  ! 
He  died  all  in  a  minute. 
Here  is  a  shaft  thirty  feet, 
And  we  have  thrown  him  in  it. 

He  was  red, 

And  he  is  dead  ! 
The  buzzards  may  forsake  him; 
For  he  is  buried  thirty  feet, 
Where  they  can  never  get  him." 

After  he  had  repeated  this  the  mail  says,  "  Walden,  you  are 
a  poet."  Walden  asked,  "What  is  a  poet?"  He  replied, 
"  One  who  writes  poetry."  "  What  is  poetry  ?"  asked  Walden. 
The  man  explained  by  asking  him  if  he  did  not  know  what 
hymns  are  ?  &c. 

From  this  time  he  was  running  over  rhymes  in  his  head, 
and  longing  to  learn. 

The  second  poem  was  composed   on  the  occasion  of  his 
being  attacked  by  a  drunken  man.    A  mob  collected,  and  he 
was  in  danger  of  being  killed  if  caught.     While  hiding  from 
them  under  a  tree  he  composed  the  lines  beginning — 
"  Now  here  I  lie  upon  the  ground." 

The  surrender  of  General  Lee  occurred  while  he  was  at  the 
mine.  He  left  there  soon  after,  and  went  from  one  mine  to 
another,  in  North  Carolina,  until  he  came  to  Washington, 
searching  for  glasses  to  enable  him  to  study. 

He  came  on  foot,  the  snow  falling  during  part  of  the  jour- 
ney. He  was  told  by  some  he  was  too  old  to  learn  j  by  others 
that  his  eyes  were  so  poor  he  could  never  study. 

After  a  good  deal  of  wandering  about  he  met  Dr.  Nichols 
at  a  preaching  service  at  Howard  University.  He  gave  him 
the  first  real  encouragement. 

He  composed  some  political  ballads,  which  he  had  printed 
and  went  about  the  street  selling  them — all  the  time  trying 
to  find  some  help  for  his  eyes,  or  some  school  where  they 


INTRODUCTION.  0 

would  teach  him.  He  lived  ia  this  way  three  years,  extending 
his  travels  through  parts  of  Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey- 
While  in  New  Jersey  he  attracted  the  attention  of  the  Second 
Reformed  Church  in  New  Brunswick,  which,  through  Professor 
Atheiton,  pledged  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  a  year  to- 
wards his  school  expenses  until  he  should  graduate. 

Dr.  Nichols  was  still  his  friend,  and  when  he  made  applica- 
tion to  enter  Howard  University  a  year  ago  his  daughter 
taught  him,  patiently  and  faithfully,  for  three  weeks.  At  the 
end  of  that  time  he  was  able  to  write  something  which  re- 
sembled his  name,  read  pretty  well  in  the  Second  Reader,  and 
worked  examples  in  long  division.  He  entered  the  lowest 
class  three  months  behind  it.  At  the  end  of  six  months  he 
skipped  a  class,  and  joined  another  a  year  ia  advance  of  the 
one  which  he  first  entered. 

Since  he  has  been  in  the  University  he  has  composed  a 
number  of  pieces  suggested  by  passing  events  characteristic 
of  school  matters,  &c,  which  he  has  collected  in  this  little 
book.  He  wishes  to  sell  them  during  his  vacation,  to  make 
a  sum  sufficient  for  extra  expenses  during  another  year. 

We  do  not  claim  great  poetical  merit,  but  think  the  effort 
worthy  of  encouragement.  His  stock  of  words  is  necessarily 
small,  as  he  had  no  knowledge  of  books  until  within  the  past 
year.  C.  C.  H. 


[Note. — The  proper  name  of  the  author  of  this  little  volume 
is  Alfred  Islay  Walden,  but,  for  the  reasoa  that  when  but  a 
young  lad  a  man  was  hung,  in  the  same  County  in  which  he 
resided,  with  the  surname  of  Alfred  the  name  become  repul- 
sive to  the  ear  of  the  unlettered  boy,  and  he  mentally  resolved 
to  abjure  the  name.  Since  that  time  he  has  been  known  only 
by  the  name  of  Islay  Walden.] 


POEMS. 


INTRODUCTORY  VERSES. 

will  record  each  little  rhyme, 
Although  it  may  not  be  sublime, 
I  Shall  I  despise  the  day  though  small? 
iv-    Can  I  forget  my  Saviour's  call? 

Help  me  to  love  each  little  thing 
From  which  the  great  and  noble  spring ! 
It's  very  true,  yet  it  can  be, 
That  drops  of  water  fill  the  sea? 

The  mustard  seed  is  very  small ; 
The  tree  it  brings  is  great  and  tall, 
It  spreads  its  branches  far  around, 
Among  its  boughs  the  birds  abound. 

I  then  may  do  some  noble  deeds, 
When  I  have  sown  these  little  seeds, 
If  one  should  fall  in  some  one's  heart, 
And  give  to  him  an  upward  start. 

Unseen  the  sparrow  does  not  fall, 
For  Jesus  Christ  takes  note  of  all. 


12 


The  little  ant  is  smaller  yet, 
And  we  may  go  and  learn  of  it. 

A  single  tear  from  weeping  eyes, 
Is  like  the  rain  drops  from  the  skies, 
For  each  one  does  its  office  fill, 
And  I  should  do  my  Saviour's  will. 

Now  if  the  spiders  were  to  say, 
Just  take  these  little  webs  away, 
Would  they  succeed  in  catching  flies, 
Or  would  the  Bible  call  them  wise? 

The  locusts  are  without  a  king, 
And  yet  they  make  the  forest  ring ! 
The  coney  I  will  not  omit, 
Because  'tis  small  and  full  of  wit. 

When  Jesus  left  the  shining  sky, 
And  came  on  earth,  for  man  to  die, 
He  gave  His  life  upon  the  tree, 
That  he  might  make  sin's  captive  free. 

He  did  not  seek  to  dwell  with  kings, 
Nor  did  he  slight  the  minor  things  ; 
I  know  that  he  was  meek  and  mild, 
And  sought  to  bless  each  little  child. 

And  when  he  said,  Go  forth  and  preach, 
Did  he  not  also  bid  to  teach  ? 
Although  my  talent  may  be  small, 
My  Saviour  will  require  it  all. 


walden's  poems.  13 

THE   DANGER. 

low  here  I  lie  upon  the  ground, 
fjfflf  I  wonder  if  I  shall  be  found, 
1  "| There's  nothing  but  this  little  pine 
By  which  in  safety  to  recline. 

Now  it  is  standing  on  this  hill, 
And  if  I'm  safe  it  is  God's  will ; 
But  should  I  now  be  called  to  die, 
On  wings  of  love  I  soon  would  fly. 

I  hear  the  crew,  now  passing  by, 
And  wonder  if  they  '11  me  descry  ; 
For.  T  can  hear  them  loud  proclaim, 
While  swearing  vengeance  on  my  name. 

I  see  them  going  hanol  in  hand, 
And  hear  them  in  their  noisy  band, 
I  hear  their  guns  and  pistols  crack, 
As  though  they  were  returning  back. 

Jesus,  to  Thee  I  lift  my  prayer, 
That  Thou  would'st  save  me  from  despair  ; 
For  they  are  drawing  near  the  place 
Where  I  have  sought  to  hide  my  face. 

For  now  they  pass  and  do  not  see, 
And  surely  I  shall  soon  be  free, 
So,  let  me  rise  upon  my  feet ; 
It  may  be  that  I  can  retreat. 


14  walden's  poems. 

How  near  they  came  unto  the  pine 
By  which,  in  fear,  I  did  recline ; 
The  distance  measured  in  good  fix, 
The  feet  were  number  thirty-six. 


-o — c>- 


TO  S.  S.  N. 

i  arah,  thy  name  shall  ever  live ! 
j.   Shall  have  the  best  place  in  my  heart, 
jg.  For  the  instruction  thou  didst  give* 
When  others  bade  me  to  depart. 

Stretch  forth  thy  loving,  gentle  hands, 
And  bid  the  needy  come  to  thee, 

For  there  are  many  in  the  land, 
Who  gladly  see^,  to  learn  of  tnee. 

Thy  gentle  hand  shalt  bless  the  poor, 
Shall  wipe  away  the  tears  they  she'd; 

And  from  thy  bounty  I  am  sure, 
The  poor  and  needy  shall  have  bfe*acL 

Thy  steadfast  feet  shall  tread  the  Wa^7 
That  saints  and  angels  long  have  tro<J} 

If  thou  wilt  only  watch  and  pray, 
And  seek  to  serve  the  living  God* 


POEMS,  15 


DOUBTS  AND   FEARS. 

t  was  the  time  of  fear  and  dread, 
I  looked  to  Calvary; 
|f  I  had  not  where  to  lay  my  head, 
My  Saviour  pitied  me. 

He  seemed  to  speak  in  words  Unknown, 

Looking  from  Calvary; 
He  seemed  to  say,  why  weep  and  moan" 

Oh !  why  not  come  to  me  ? 

My  answer  was,  I  could  not  cOme 
With  sins  so  much  oppressed; 

While  they  were  rising,  one  by  One, 
Upon  my  weary  breast. 

Jesus,  the  Son  of  God,  still  Tm&, 
,  And  scatters  doubts  and  feaf) 
His  power  the  sins  of  all  foT^givtS, 
And  bids  them  disappear. 


JESUS,  MY  FRIEND* 

EStrs,  thy  love  did  leave  its  CfeTO® 
Engraved  upon  my  heart} 
|!  Thou  bad'st  me  fly  unto  thine  arms, 
And  from  my  sins  depart. 


16 

It  was  tlie  time  I  came  to  thee, 

With  sin  so  much  oppressed, 
It  was  thy  love  that  rescued  me, 

And  gave  my  spirit  rest. 

But  since  that  time  I've  gone  astray, 

My  love  is  cold  to  Thee, 
And  I  am  in  the  crooked  wayT 

Thy  light  I  cannot  see. 

0 !  could  I  see  thy  love  again, 

Come  beaming  from  the  sky, 
And  know  that  I  am  free  from  sin, 

And  feel  that  thou  art  nigh ! 

I  would  no  longer  linger  here, 
And  sink  with  fear  and  shame, 

But  I  would  seek  the  cross  to  bear, 
And  own  my  Saviour's  name. 

Now  let  me  to  my  Saviour  go, 

And  lean  upon  his  breast, 
Where  peace  and  love  forever"  flow, 

In  heaven,  among  the  blest* 

[The  above  lines  are  the  second  religions  ones  ever  com» 
posed  by  me,  and  these  were  suggested  to  me  on  a  pleasant 
Sabbath  day,  when  returning  from  Sabbath  school;  and,  mu- 
sing on  my  so-ul's  welfare,  both  in  time  and  in  eternity,  I  was 
suddenly  aroused  by  some  very  wicked  boys  who  were 
spending  the  Lord's  day  in  idle  sport,  smoking  and  swearing, 
thws  profaning  God's  name  and  day.  I  wondered  how  long 
man  will  be  permitted  to  disregard  the  Bible,  and  violate  the 
laws  of  the  land ! — How  long  he  will  shut  himself  out  from 
good  society,  and  bind  himself  in  fetters  of  sin  and  death  ? — the- 
death  that  never  dies  L    May  they  soon  hear,  turn  and  ive.) 


walden's  POEMS.  17 

EULOGY   ON   A   CLASSMATE. 

TO    E.    E.    S. 

(jg?|wEET  and  pleasant  are  thy  features, 
j£j2     Kind,  and  lovely  are  thy  ways, 
m  j  Fairer  than  ten  thousand  creatures, 
The  brightest  vision  of  my  days ! 

I  mark  thy  steps  from  day  to  day, 

And  know  that  they  are  firm  and  true, 

I  only  wish  a  word  to  say  ; 
Take  heed  to  all  you  speak  or  do. 

From  thy  door  a  glancing  look, 

Upon  my  heart  what  wonders  wrought ! 

Thy  smiles  from  me  my  sorrows  took. 
Oh,  how  I  felt !  Oh,  what  I  thought ! 

Now  let  me  to  yon  garden  go, 

Where  flowers  bloom  so  fair  and  gay, 

There  I  shall  find  some  one  I  know, 
Who  will  entice  me  there  to  stay. 

Among  the  flowers,  great  and  small, 
The  sweetness  I  will  much  admire ; 

Till  one  I  find  amidst  them  all, 
That  I  may  pick,  and  then  retire. 

Art  thou  not  in  gorgeous  green, 
Where  all  the  living  flowers  grow, 


18  WALDENS'   POEMS. 

How  is  it  that  thou  art  the  queen 
Of  all  who  see,  and  all  who  know  ? 

But  for  myself,  let  me  employ, 

Ten  thousand  tongues,  this  one  to  aid, 

That  I  may  speak  my  inward  joy, 
When  thee  I  see,  thou  pretty  maid. 

Kind  Miss,  I  thee  must  bid  adieu, 
To  thee,  and  all  who  thee  surround  ; 

But  let  me  say,  there's  none  like  thee, 
In  all  the  world,  that  I  have  found. 


PRAYER   FOR  THE  SCHOOL 

£p|P.ESus,  my  Saviour,  and  my  King, 
SJII  Oh,  grant  this  school  a  song  to  sing, 
fT :?  That  we  together  here  may  meet, 
*aw*    jj^  k0^,  an(j  ^org]jjp  at  thy  feet. 

And  when  we  shall  have  left  this  place, 
Then  give  us  of  thy  richest  grace, 
And  lead  each  one  unto  his  home, 
That  we  may  praise  thee  on  thy  throne ! 

And  if  we  here  shall  meet  no  more, 
Then  let  us  meet  on  Canaan's  shore, 
Where  we  may  walk  the  streets  around, 
And  wear  a  robe,  and  starry  crown. 


WALD  EN'S  POEMS,  19 


V 


TEMPERANCE. 

"IPJtretch  forth  thy  loving  gentle  hand 
SjE|    And  raise  thy  banner  to  the  sky, 
I^J  Go,  save  the  drunkards  of  the  land, 

When  others  shall  have  passed  them  by. 

Oh,  stretch  thy  net  across  the  sea, 
And  gather  in  both  great  and  small, 

Yes,  bid  the  drunkards  come  to  thee, 
And  save  them  from  the  dreadful  fall. 

Thy  ship  is  anchored  near  the  shore, 
Ten  thousand  stand  upon  her  deck, 

And  she  can  carry  thousands  more. 
Fearless  of  winds,  or  storms,  or  wreck. 

How  millions  gather  thick  around, 
With  each  eye  fixed  upon  her  sails, 

To  see  her  venture  o'er  the  sound, 
Moved  onward  by  the  gentle  gales. 

She  soon  will  reach  the  happy  land, 
And  gently  touch  the  blissful  shore, 

Where  millions  round  their  Saviour  stand, 
Who  '11  sail  this  temperance  boat  no  more. 

Tins  was  composed  during  the  Congressional  Temperance 
Mooting  hold  at  Howard  University,  at  which  Dr.  Chickering 
presided,  and  Somitor  Fomeroy,  and  others  made  speeches. 


20  WALDBITr8    FOE5ISr, 


MY   REFUGE 


d*/* 


kRY  do  I  doubt  and  tremble  here, 
^j  Beneath  this  load  of  sin  I  bear? 
jps^  Is  there  no  one  to  pity  me, 
Tn  all  this  grief  and  misery  ?  • 

Why  do  I  shrink  with  fear  and  shame. 
And  dare  to  own  my  Saviour's  name  ? 
Did  He  not  die  upon  the  treer 
That  sinful  man  might  thus  be  free  ? 

Is  there  no  room  upon  His  breast, 
Where  I  may  lay  my  head  to  rest  ? 
Did  He  not  die  a  death  of  shame, 
And  bear  for  man  the  dreadful  pain  ? 


LETTER   TO   MISS   SMITHERMANT, 

This  letter  was  written  to  a  tittle  child  living  in  North 
Carolina,  that  I  used  to  tend  and  pet.  The  first  word  she 
spoke  was  my  name  t 

Howard  University, 
Washington,  D.  (?.,  May  8,  1872. 
Miss  Smitherman: 

While  sitting  in  my  room  thinking  to  whom  my  first  May 
letter  should  be  addressed,  I  thought  of  you  as  the  one  I 
should  most  like  to  honor,  knowing  that  you  will  receive  it 


POEMS,  21 

with  pleasure,  as  it  comes  from  one  whom  yea  have  q 
for  five  years. 

I  am  living  in  the  City  of  Washington,  and  am  a  student 
at  Howard  University.  I  am  making  rapid  progress  in  my 
studies,  having  overtaken  a  class  that  was  a  year  ahead  of  me, 

I  have  followed  the  precepts  of  your  father  and  mother, 
and  for  this  reason  I  have  run  the  road  of  wisdom  without 
getting  diseouraged. 

As  a  Christian,  I  endeavor  to  do  all  I  can  for  Christ :  as 
a  student,  to  compete  with  my  class-mates ;  as  a  politician, 
to  prove  true  to  my  country  5  as  a  citizen,  to  fee  law-abiding. 

I  am  very  busy  at  this  time  preparing  for  our  annua! 
examination. 

Some  say  that  I  am  a  poet,  because  I  sometimes  write  a 
.verse  or  two.    The  following  lines  I  have  dedicated  te  you  : 

iss  Nancy  Jane,  I  long  to  see 
Those  golden  charms  of  thine, 
p   While  standing  in  a  garden  green. 
Where  nature  is  sublime. 

Within  the  plaee  where  flowers  bloomr 

Around  thy  head  so  gay. 
Where  birds  and  bees  do  loud  proclaim 

Thou  art  the  queen  of  May. 

Oh,  could  I  see  thy  piercing  eyes, 

As  they  reflect  the  light 
Which  drives  away  thy  midnight  dreams,, 

And  makes  thy  visions  bright. 

I  long  tG  see  thy  tender  smiles, 

So  gentle  and  so  gay, 
That  drive  away  the  cares  of  life, 

And  make  life's  darkness  day. 


22  WALDEN  '8     POEMS, 

While  thou  art  in  that  tranquil  place, 
Let  evening  shades  draw  nigh, 

Where  thou  may'st  in  the  moonbeams  stand, 
And  view  the  starry  sky. 

Then  cast  thine  eyes  around  about, 

And  view  the  willow  tree, 
And  when  thou  dost  recall  the  pastr 

Oh,  then  remember  me- 1 

I  left  the  South,  and  journeyed  East, 

This  goodly  land  to  see  ; 
But  I  have  never  found  a  child 

That  I  could  love  like  thee. 

When  thou  was7t  in  thy  mother's  arms. 

Those  arms  so  dear  to  thee, 
I  saw  thee  when  thou  sweetly  smiled, 

And  then  thou  callecVst  for  me. 

So  much  surprised  thy  mother  was,. 

She  quickly  did  exclaim, 
u  My  little  daughter,  though  so  young. 

Has  plainly  called  thy  name !  " 

I  hastened  to  that  tranquil  place,. 

And  took  thee  in  my  arms. 
I  smiled  and  kissed  thy  dimpled  cheeks* 

And  looked  upon  thy  charms. 

And  now  I  look  upon  the  arm 
On  which  thy  head  did  rest. 


VT   >C 


WALDEN'S     POEMS.  23 

And  well  remember  how  thou  slept, 
When  leaning  on  my  breast. 

I  cannot  tell  your  pa  and  ma 

How  I  esteem  those  days ; 
Nor  can  I  tell  them  how  I  love 

Their  kind  and  pleasant  ways. 

My  little  friend,  I  'd  like  to  ask, 

Art  thou  a  child  of  God? 
And  do  you  walk  the  narrow  path 

That  saints  and  angels  trod  ? 

It  is  a  straight  and  shining  road, 
And  leads  through  wisdom's  ways, 

And  if  you'd  be  a  child  of  God, 
Oh,  start  in  early  days ! 

Now,  if  we  never  meet  again 

About  the  old  home  place, 
Then  may  we  meet  in  heaven  above, 

Around  God's  throne  of  grace. 

Remember  me  to  all  my  friends, 

In  words  which  I  proclaim  ; 
Then  give  my  love  to  all  thy  house, 

And  thou  accept  the  same. 


<>— > 


24  WALDENS     POEMS. 


ONE   TO    LOYE. 

[h,  where  rs  the  maid  that  I  can  love, 
With  love  which  I  have  never  told  ? 

\  Where  is  the  one  that  I  would  like 
To  comfort  me  when  I  am  old  ? 

Do  I  not  see  before  my  face, 
A  mate  prepared  for  every  one  ? 

Then  sure  there 's  one  prepared  for  me, 
Nor  need  I  trudge  the  road  alone. 

Now  who  is  he  that  speaks  to  me 
Of  Mormons  and  of  Mormonhood  ? 

While  this  you  know,  the  Lord  has  said, 
They  twain  shall  be  one  flesh,  one  blood ! 

Come  listen,  then,  to  what  I  say 
Before  this  evening's  work  is  done, 

That  you  can  do  as  you  may  please, 
But  I  ?d  be  satisfied  with  one. 


THE    SACRED    STREAMS. 

IjjpESUS,  that  stream  shall  ever  flow 
Ml||     That  washed  my  sins  away  ; 
f|l|  That  made  my  heart  as  white  as  snow, 
And  moved  me  then  to  pray. 


walden's  poems.  25 

It  is  a  stream  of  pure  delight, 

Flowing  both  deep  and  wide  ; 
Each  ripple  doth  reflect  the  light, 

Proceeding  from  Thy  side. 

It  is  a  stream  where  all  can  meet 

And  drink  a  full  supply  ; 
Can  bow  and  worship  at  Thy  feet, 

And  praise  Thy  name  most  high. 

There  millions  in  Thy  presence  stand, 

They  bid  us  welcome  home  ; 
They  tell  us  of  that  happy  land, 

Where  all  in  Christ  are  one. 

And  if  we  will  consent  to  go, 

We  there  shall  bathe  again 
In  waters  bright  that  can,  we  know, 

Cleanse  from  the  foulest  stain. 


THE   NATION'S  FRIEND. 

I#HIS  nation  has  a  faithful  friend, 
M    In  whom  she  may  confide  ; 
?|  Whose  influence  is  like  a  sea, 
'A       Flowing  both  deep  and  wide. 

Let  us  behold  the  sea,  how  calm — 
What  ships  her  billows  float, 


26  waldsn's   poems. 

Come  let  us  hasten  to  the  shore, 
And  get  on  freedom's  boat. 

Upon  her  deck  the  nations  meet ; 

The  white  and  colored  there, 
Where  no  first  place  nor  second  known, 

No  difference  in  the  fare. 

I  saw  her  raise  her  banner  liighj 

And  cast  it  to  the  breeze. 
While  tempests  raged  and  billows  rolled 

She  sailed  through  gulfs  and  seas. 

Through  smoke  and  fog  she  onward  went 

This  nation  to  defend, 
When  Dixie  cried,  "Take  her  last  son, 

And  her  last  dollar  spend.'' 

When  hissing  shot  around  her  fell, 

From  rebel  cannon's  mouth, 
She  stood  the  storm,  the  rain,  the  hail, 

And  now  can  stand  the  drouth. 

I  heard  her  cry,  white  sailing  on — 

And  Justice  is  her  name — 
Grant  equal  rights  to  every  man, 

And  amnesty  the  same. 

Sne  soon  will  land  her  noble  crew 

Within  a  city  bright, 
Where  nations  in  one  brotherhood 

Drink  national  delight. 


POEMS.  27 

Where  we  may  have  our  public  schools, 

With  open  doors  displayed ; 
Where  all  may  drink  at  wisdom's  fount 

With  none  to  make  afraid. 

Young  friends,  I  know  you  will  be  there 

Bright,  shining,  as  the  sun  ; 
With  equal  rights  secured  to  all, 

When  Sumner's  work  is  done. 

The  nation's  friend!  still  firm  he  stands, 
With  neither  sleep  nor  slumber, 

Come  every  Freedman  in  this  land 
And  hail  the  name  of  Sumner. 


ADAM    AND   EYE. 

MB.  plant  this  tree  to  try  thy  faith* 
Sjll     And,  if  thou  only  wilt  obey,, 
\r  -_.|  Thou  shalt  ever  see  my  face, 

And  I  will  bless  thee  day  by  day. 

The  good  of  life  I  '11  not  withhold, 
Nor  kindred  pleasures  will  deny,. 

But  thou  shalt  walk  in  streets  of  gold, 
And  thou  shalt  never,  never  die. 

Thy  days  and  years  shall  have  no  end  : 
Sickness  nor  sorrow  shalt  thou  know 


28  walden's  poems. 

And  in  old  age  thou  shalt  not  bend, 
Except  thou  yield  unto  the  foe. 

Go,  freely  drink  from  every  fount, 
From  streams  as  they  go  laughing  on, 

Proceeding  down  from  ever}r  mount, 
Singing  their  merry,  merry  song. 

It  is  not  well  to  be  alone  ; 

There  should  be  one  to  comfort  tliee  ; 
And  from  thy  side  I  '11  take  a  bone, 

And  soon  in  one  thy  twain  shalt  be. 

In  yonder  place  I  think  I  see 
Adam  reclining  in  the  shade, 

Rejoicing  near  the  green  bay  tree, 

E'en  in  the  place  where  Eve  was  made. 

List  ye  to  what  this  man  will  say, 
This  man  who  never  spake  before  ; 

And  see  how  wise,  though  made  of  clay, 
Now  he  has  some  one  to  adore. 

Bone  of  my  bone,  I  know  thou  art, 
And  Eve  thy  name  shall  ever  be  ; 

I'll  wear  thine  image  in  my  heart, 
And  thou  shalt  ever  cleave  to  me  I 


-  i 


w  ALP  en's  poems.  .  29 


THE  LITTLE   HELPER. 

[The  day  of  the  celebration  of  the  Fifteenth  Amendment 
I  was  passing  through  the  crowd  in  the  street  when  a  little 
girl.  Clara  Saunders,  (whom  I  knew  not  at  the  time,  but  is  a 
student  at  Howard  University,)  noticed  my  eyes,  and  thinking 
I  could  not  see  and  would  be  run  over,  took  me  by  the  hand 
and  laad  me  to  a  place  of  safety.  The  kindness  made  such  an 
impression.  I  was  moved  to  write  this  little  poem.] 

jjfjEHOLD  the  great  and  swelling  crowd, 
^mL     While  thronging  through  the  street, 
gf  And  then  behold  the  hand  that  keeps 
Me  from  the  horses  feet. 

The  great  and  small  have  passed  me  by, 

And  here  unseen  I  stand  ; 
I  have  no  sympathy,  no  help, 

Except  this  little  hand. 

And  now  I  bless  this  little  hand, 

Which  gently  takes  my  arm  ; 
Kind  Jesus,  guide  this  little  child, 

And  keep  her  from  all  harm. 

The  proud  and  gay  are  passing  by, 

And  foolishly  have  scorned, 
When  they  have  met  me  on  the  street 

Afflicted  as  when  born. 

But  now  and  then  I  meet  a  child 
As  harmless  as  a  dove, 


30  •     WALDENS     POEMS. 

Who  tells  me  by  its  little  deeds, 

That  God  alone  is  love- 
Dear  Saviour,  bless  tliis  little  child, 

Whatever  her  name  may  be  ; 
Dost  Thou  not  see  her  little  heart, 
How  kind  she's  been  to  me ! 


LOVE'S   SOLILOQUY. 

.  !h.  why  have  I  thus  failed  to  write 
18  A  line  upon  my  heart's  delight? 
The  reason  why  I  cannot  tell, 
For  it,  I  think,  is  known  too  well. 

I  need  not  say  that  she  is  pretty  ; 
But  I  am  sure  she  is  quite  witty, 
She  is  both  comely  to  behold, 
And,  in  my  sight,  as  pure  as  gold. 

I  like  the  style  in  which  sh«'s  dressed, 
And  place  her  now  among  the  blessed  ; 
There  is  no  one  more  neat  than  she 
Among  the  fairer  ones  I  see. 

It's  true  I  take  a  complex  view, 
Instead  of  one,  I  look  at  two • 
The  one,  because  she's  neat  and  trim, 
The  other  one  is  fair  and  slim. 


walden's   poems.  31 

'Tis  very  true,  one  has  a  beau, 
The  other  one  has  none  I  know  : 
The  one  may  dwell  e'en  near  my  heart, 
The  other  one  must  then  depart. 

There's  only  one  that  I  can  love, 
And  she's  as  harmless  as  a  dove ; 
She  is  not  drifted  by  the  tide 
With  twenty  beaux  around  her  side. 

I  have  seen  one  all  dressed  in  green  ; 
The  other  one  may  be  a  queens 
T  think  one  has  a  pleasant  mother, 
The  other  one  a  handsome  brother. 

Now,  shall  I  tell  the  first  one's  name, 
For  fear  that  you  may  think  in  vain  ? 
Shall  1  record  on  history's  page, 
The  other  one  is  not  of  age  ? 

When  you  have  seen  the  other  one, 
Then  think  of  mother's  only  son, 
To  her  be  kind,  be  just  and  true, 
That  she  may  tkus  confide  in  you. 

And  when  you  have  been  kind  to  her, 
A  favor  you  will  then  confer, 
I  hope  that  you  will  never  slight 
The  one  who  is  my  heart's  delight. 


32 


OUR   MAY-DAY   WALK. 

^fflfiE  went  out  to  ^ie  Soldiers'  Home, 
IjJJPJI    With  happy  hearts  and  free, 
*§|l|s  And  as  we  stepped  within  the  grove 
All  eyes  were  fixed  on  me. 

They  seemed  to  speak  in  words  like  these : 

"  Will  he  not  write  a  poem  ? 
•'  Does  he  not  feel  the  gentle  breeze 

"  On  which  our  thoughts  are  borne.'7 

And  as  they  range  through  worlds  unknown, 

I  thought  I  heard  them  say  : 
That  "  Walden  ought  to  write  a  verse, 

"Upon  the  first  of  May!" 

Let  nature  in  sublimity, 

With  golden  rays  of  light, 
Loan  him  a  pen  with  diamond  point, 

And  tell  him  what  to  write. 

Let  May  put  on  her  coat  of  green 

And  bid  him  freely  speak, 
That  we  may  have  a  word  or  two 

Before  we  stop  to  eat. 

We  cannot  feel  the  hidden  spark 
That  burns  within  his  breast ; 


walden's    poems.  83 

Nor  can  we  tell  him  what  to  say, 
For  nature's  thoughts  are  best. 

I  hope  he  11  think  upon  the  bridge, 

And  of  the  willow  tree ; 
I  hope  he  11  think  of  every  one, 

And  then  he  11  think  of  me." 

Depart  from  me  all  cares  of  life, 

And  let  me  here  compose 
A  line  or  two  upon  this  place 

In  verses  or  in  prose. 

This  is  a  fair  and  pleasant  place, 

And  lovely  to  behold  ; 
The  place  where  aged  soldiers  lire, 

I  often  have  been  told. 

Now  let  the  soldier  cast  his  eye 

Upon  the  fields  of  green, 
And  I  am  sure  he  will  proclaim 

The  matron  is  the  queen ! 

Then  let  the  Captain  take  a  view, 

Although  he  is  afar, 
And  with  the  soldiers  he  '11  proclaim, 

Each  lady  is  a  star. 

Here  while  I  view  the  tender  leaves, 

And  hear  the  gay  birds  sing, 
My  thoughts  are  borne  upon  the  breeze, 

That  kindly  welcomes  Spring. 


34 


Tlrey  swiftly  fly  to  nature's  arms, 

And  in  her  bosom  rest, 
'Till  she  unfolds  her  richest  charms, 

Close  hid  within  her  breast. 

And  then  they  will  return  again, 

As  constant  as  the  dove, 
And  join  the  angels  when  they  sing, 

That  God  is  only  love. 

Now  while  I  'm  in  this  tranquil  place, 

The  evening  shades  appear, 
Where  I  can  view  the  landscape  o'er 

And  none  but  I  am  here. 

With  love  and  kindness  one  comes  down, 

And  by  me  takes  her  seat, 
And  kindly  asks  me  to  accept 

A  piece  of  bread  and  meat. 

Of  course  I  will  accept  of  it, 

And  glad  to  eat  I  am, 
And  think  within  my  heart  there  is 

A  Mary  in  this  land. 

Yet  let  me  speak  of  one  more  friend, 
I  should  not  slight  her  name, 

Whom  I  have  found  both  just  and  true — 
It  is  Miss  E.  L.  Crane ! 


Young  friends,  if  we  no  more  shall  meet 
Within  the  Soldier's  Home, 


walden's    poems.  3$ 

Oh  !  may  we  meet  in  Heaven  above 
Around  God's  brilliant  throne. 

May  1,  1872. 


THE    YOUNG   MAN'S    COMFORTER 


<7*rJ 

JiSlfg 


jjpHERE  is  not  one  that  can  be  found 
gill  More  happy  than  the  man  unbound, 

If  lie  will  not  himself  engage 

To  any  one  of  any  age. 

He  then  can  live  a  single  life  ; 
When  free  from  wed  and  free  from  wife 
There  'd  be  no  one  that  could  control 
Nor  disregard  him  when  lie's  old. 

According  to  the  lines  above 
There  is  no  one  that  he  should  love  ; 
But  if  he  thinks  this  is  not  right, 
Then  let  him  seek  his  heart's  delight. 


CONSECRATION    OF   SELF 

(Iesus,  I  feel  the  quickening  spark, 
||     O  how  it  burn-  within! 
jj'Tis  love  that  purifies  the  heart, 
And  cleanses  from  all  sin. 

And  now  I  stretch  my  hands  to  Thee; 
Dear  Saviour  bid  me  fly. 


30  w  alden's  poems. 

That  I  may  in  thy  presence  be, 
And  reign  above  the  sky. 

Where  I  may  wear  a  starry  crown, 
Through  ceaseless  years  to  come, 

And  in  the  city  I'll  be  found, 
Around  thy  dazzling  throne. 


TO    MY    BENEFACTOR. 

#||Jt?s  true  I  have  a  friend,  indeed. 
|i||  Whom  T  can  safely  trust  and  heed  ; 
fir  f He's  been  to  me  a  shining  light, 
And  seeks  to  guide  my  Feet  aright. 

When  doubt  and  Tear  shall  cloud  my  skies, 
Then  he  will  come  and  sympathize  • 
He  found  me  in  a  seeking  shite. 
A 1 1 < I  placed  me  here  among  the  great. 

Will  he  not  lead  me  with  his  hand 
Toward  Canaan's  fair  ami  happy  land? 
Will  he  not  mark  each  step  ]  take, 
Or  mend  each  sacred  link  I  break? 

1  came  \'t  him  when  much  oppressed, 
Ami  soon  he  eased  my  trouble}  breast : 
And  now   I  bless  the  way  he  lei. 
When  nil  my  sorrows  quickly  fled. 


walden's  poems.  37 


INQUIRY. 

love  to  look  on  thee  kind  friend, 
Would  like  to  ask  thy  name. 
i|fMy  leisure  hours  with  thee  I  'd  spend. 
And  learn  from  whence  thou  came. 

I  'd  gather  wisdom  from  your  voice. 

Advancing  day  by  day, 
Please  gratify  my  ardent  choice, 

Thy  name !  what  is  it  ?  pray. 


-o—o 


DEDICATED   TO    M.  W.  W. 

ON    MAKING,  FOR  THE    FIRST  TIME,  A  SHIRT. 

|ary,  my  shirt  is  neatly  made, 

Each  stitch  is  in  its  proper  place  ; 
There  's  not  a  wrinkle  to  be  seen. 
Nor  basting  thread  that  will  deface. 

I  've  criticised  with  all  my  might ; 

I  thought  the  button  holes  were  shirked, 
But  I  was  struck  with  much  surprise 

To  find  they  all  were  neatly  worked, 

I  turned  it  in  and  turned  it  out, 
I  sought  to  find  some  fault  with  it  ; 

I- tried  it  on,  and  tried  it  off, 
I  never  had  so  neat  a  fit. 


38  waldek's  poems. 

I  think  I  see  within  it  stitched, 
A  figure  of  your  daily  life  ; 

It  surely  tells  that  you  will  make, 
Some  happy  man  a  thrifty  wife. 

And  now  I  speak  unto  the  hand 
That  never  made  a  shirt  before  : — 

Work  hard  to  cultivate  the  mind, 
Then  arduous  task's  will  soon  be  o'er. 


GRACE   AT   TABLE. 

Unless  us  as  we  together  meet, 
$|S||  And  sanctify  the  food  we  eat ; 
lllf  Blest  be  the  God  who  wisdom  gives, 
The  food  by  which  the  spirit  lives. 

And  when  we  shall  have  left  this  place, 
Lord,  give  us  of  Thy  richest  grace, 
Help  us  to  love  Thee  now — and  then, 
Forever  and  ever — and  Amen. 


*a\;j~ 


ODE  TO   GEN.  0.  0.  HOWARD 

||1|ind  Saviour,  hear  the  voice  of  prayer, 
P$|f  And  do  thou  bless  this  sacred  hour, 
3|fe£  May  peace  and  comfort  now  be  sent, 
Upon  our  loving  President. 


warden's    pokms.  1 

Its  true  lie  's  in  a  heathen  land, 
Where  red-men  may  around  him  stand, 
With  tomahawk  and  scalping  knife, 
And  threaten  vengeance  on  his  life. 

While  he  is  in  the  distant  West, 
May  all  he  docs  be  for  the  best. 
Be  Thou  his  shield  both  day  and  night, 
And  ever  guide  his  feet  aright. 

We  know  his  trust  is  in  Thy  name, 
And  in  Thy  love  he  doth  remain, 
For  he  did  prove  himself  most  true, 
When  fighting  by  the  starry  blue. 

0  lead  him  o'er  the  Rocky  Mounts  I 
And  let  him  drink  from  sparkling  founts  ; 
And  when  he  's  where  the  water  gleams, 
Then  let  him  bathe  in  crystal  streams. 

And  when  he  hears  the  wild  beast  moan, 
Then  let  h!m  think  of  friends  at  home; 
For  there  does  dwell  his  loving  wife, 
Who  comforts  him  mid  earthly  strife. 

Let  birds  and  bees  both  sing  his  praise, 
To  lighten  up  his  dreary  days  ; 
Let  nature  in  her  beauty  shine, 
Teaching  that  all  things  are  divine. 

Another  word  I  should  have  said — 

1  VI  like  to  ask,  has  he  a  bed  ? 


40  walden's  poems. 

A  shelter  where  within  to  rest, 
While  he  is  in  the  distant  West,  ? 

l>  grant  me  words  that  I  may  write, 
More  on  the  President  to  night, 
The  words  I  need  I  do  not  know, 
Except  they  shall  from  Webster  How. 

Congress  of  power  ha*  given  a  lease, 
Oh,  aid  him  Lord,  in  making  peace ! 
And  guide  him  with  thy  sacred  hand, 
That  he  may  bless  his  native  land. 

Yes,  bless  it  in  Thy  sacred  name, 
And  break  each  link  in  error's  chain  ; 
For  in  this  land  there's  hardly  one, 
So  many  generous  deeds  has  done. 

Will  Thou  return  hi  in  home  again, 
Both  free  from  sorrow  and  from  pain  ; 
That  we  may  see  his  loving  face, 
All  lighted  with  Thy  richest  grace. 

And  when  he  turns  to  East  or  West, 
He'll  view  his  labor  Thou  hast  blessed  ; 
Or  turns  to  either  North  or  South 
He  '11  bless  the  poor  by  word  of  mouth. 

And  when  he  comes  within  the  school, 
He  '11  see  how  well  we  keep  each  rule. 
Although  to  us  they  may  seem  tight, 
Yet  wo  believe  that  they  are  right. 


WAL  den's    poemg.  41 

And  when  from  scene-  like  these  we  go, 
To  journey  on  with  friend  oi'  foe, 
May  happy  thoughts  around  be  showered, 
When  we  recall  the  name  of  Howard  I 


CAST  YOUR  CARES  UPON  THE  LORD. 

It  is  the  King,  the  Prince  of  Peace, 

Who  holds  the  reins  of  time  ; 
^  Who  sits  upon  His  Father's  throne, 
And  rides  upon  the  wind. 

'Tis  He,  whom  angels  do  adore, 
And  praise  His  name  most  high, 

He  walks  upon  the  mighty  deep, 
And  reigns  with  God  on  high. 

He  spreads  the  clouds  beneath  th&fiky, 

And  bids  them  disappear, 
He  guides  the  pilgrim  with  His  eye 

And  scatters  doubt  and  fear. 

He  holds  the  lightning  in  His  hand, 

Till  he  shall  bid  it  fly, 
And  then  it  darts  from  East  to  We&t, 

Athwart  the  cloudy  sky. 

'Tis  he  who  is  the  sinner's  friend, 

And  only  such  can  be, 
He  bled  and  died,  that  all  might  live, 

When  nailed  upon  the  tree. 


42  walden's  poems. 


LETTER   TO   DR.   SEE. 

This  letter  was  written  to  the  Secretary  of  the  Reformed 
Church  of  America. 

Howard  University, 
Washington,  D.  C.,  June  4,  1872. 
Dr.  See  : 

Dear  Friend :  I  should  have  written  you  before,  but  being 
rery  busy  in  my  studies.  I  have  been  putting  it  off  until  I 
ihould  have  time. 

Wo  arc  preparing  for  examination,  and  my  idle  moment* 
aro  all  passed. 

I  am  doing  very  well  in  my  studies,  and  have  found  time, 
In  connection  with  them,  to  attend  about  half  of  the  Theo- 
logical lectures.  During  this  year  I  have  composed  about 
thirty  poems.  I  am  going  to  have  a  book  published  this  6um 
mer,  which  I  hope  will  meet  a  favorable  consideration  from 
the  reading  public. 


Doctor,  I  love  the  great  Reformed, 
And  pause  within  her  arms  ; 
gg|l  dare  not  scorn  her  day  when  small, 
Nor  trifle  with  her  charms. 

How  long  she  stood  within  God's  sight, 

Pure  and  undefined  ? 
How  long  lias  it  been  her  delight 

To  save  each  little  child  ? 

Oh !  when  did  she  His  banner    raise, 

And  cast  it  to  the  breeze  ? 
How  long  will  she  be  tossed  upon 

This  world's  temoestuous  seas. 


43 


Her  millions  she  has  landed  safe. 
Upon  fair  Canaan's   shore  ; 

There  7re  millions  yet  within  her  arms, 
And  room  for  millions  more. 

Now  let  me  praise  the  great  Reformed, 

And  magnify  her  name, 
For  all  the  kindness  she  has  shown, 

Since  from  the  South  I  came. 

She  did  not  turn  away  from  me 

But  bade  me  go  in  peace, 
And  kindly  asked  me  to  accept 

A  place  among  the  least. 

Dear  Saviour,  bless  the  great  Reformed, 

And  keep  her  in  thy  care, 
And  when  she  trembles  in  the  storm, 

Then  scatter  doubt  and  fear ! 


ON   A   FRIEND. 

j|HY  thus  I  write  I  cannot  tell, 
If      I  cannot  give  the  reason  why, 

"i  Except  it  is  because  thou  hast 
Become  the  apple  of  mine  eye. 

I  cannot  speak  the  words  I  wish, 
However  true  they  all  may  be, 

Because  I  know  the  gay  and*  vain 
Have  placed  their  longing  eyes  on  thee, 


44  waldbn's  poems. 

Shall  I  betray  the  noble  thoughts 

Which  guard  thine  image  day  and  night  ? 

Or  shall  I  speak  of  Mr.  A**, 
Who  seeks  to  put  those  thoughts  to  flight? 

A**  thy  beauty  doth  admire, 
B**  thy  kind  and  loving  ways, 

And  C**  because  thou  sheddest  light 
To  cheer  and  bless  his  dreary  days. 

But  for  myself,  intelligence, 

Beauty  and  meekness  reign  alone  ; 

And  she  must  love  the  Son  of  God 
Who  sits  upon  His  Father's  throne. 

I  will,  not  write  another  line 

Lest  critics  say  I  flatter  you  ; 
And  they  would  say  I  prove  unkind 

And  you  might  think  I  am  untrue. 


ON    A   SEAMSTRESS. 

|Y  shirt  is  truly  neat  and  strong 
*  Although  for  it  I  waited  long  ; 
|8|fP  I  know  Miss  S****  will  never  slight, 
Nor  sew  on  shirts  by  candle  light. 

I  long  have  known  this  one  who  sews, 
And  now  commend  her  to  her  beaux, 
She  has  no  artificial  ways 
To  cause  young  men  on  her  to  gaze. 


WALDEN's    POEMS.  %t> 


CALL   TO    8ABKATH    SCHOOL 

|gjli{H  !  hark  unto  this  liberal  call : 
^Oj      For  you  are  all  invited, 
§I|B  And  if  you  stay  away  I  know, 
The  children  will  be  slighted. 

Oh!   vvliv  not  come  into  the  school— 

For  you  may  be  a  teacher  ; 
Of  all  the  beauties  of  the  day, 

This  is  the  brightest  feature. 

The  President  avi'U  sure  be  there, 

And  that  will  be  exciting, 
And  a  short  lecture  I  will  give, 

[f  you  will  be  confiding. 

The  children  will  together  meet, 
They  fU  look  to  see  your  coming, 

While  birds  and  bees  within  the  grove, 
Will  greet  you  with  their  humming. 

The  school  will  meet  at  three  o'clock. 

A  pleasant  time  to  spend, 
And  when  we  hear  the  clock  strike  five, 

Our  exercise  will  end. 


■1G 


TO  THE  GRADUATING  CLASS. 

OUNG  men,  there  is  one  honor  yet, 
One  I  'in  sure  each  one  can  get ; 
$P   An  honor  that  is  tried  and  true, 
One  that  will  ever  stand  by  you. 

When  entering  on  the  field  of  life, 
Each  graduate  should  have  a  wife, 
One  who  will  guide  his  feet  aright. 
And  ever  be  his  heart's  delight. 

Tis  true,  quite  true,  you  're  leaving  college, 
With  minds  well  stored  with  useful  knowledge 
But  oh,  all  this  will  prove  in  vain, 
Except  some  lady's  heart  you  gain. 

Tis  true  you  stood  upon  the  stage, 
Examples  of  the  modern  age  ; 
But  life  is  vain  if  you  are  wise 
If  there's  no  star  in  all  your  skies. 

But  if  each  one  will  still  live  single, 
I   ni  sure  your  pockets  cannot  jingle  : 
1  rare  not  who  may  be  your  choice, 
If  you  '11  obey  this  warning  voice. 

Go  forth,  therefore,  in  all  the  land. 
And  reap  success  on  every  hand  : 
Go  make  yourselves  a  shining  name, 
Then  vou  '11  deserve  eternal  fame. 


POEMS.  47 


ON  A  FRIEND. 

jlND  friend  why  dost  thou  look  so  sad  ? 

What  may  thy  troubles  be  ? 
Oh  dost  thou  fear  some  one  will  take 
The  one  so  kind  to  thee  ? 

She  is  a  fair  and  charming  one 

She  dazzles  every  eye, 
It  is  enough  to  make  thee  weep, 

Enough  to  make  thee  sigh. 


A   LADY   FRIEND. 

<gj||o  tell  Miss  V**  to  quickly  come, 
'(!§    And  bring  her  pen  and  ink, 
ife  That  she  may  write  each  word  I  speak 
Or  each  one  that  I  think. 

She  can  unfold  my  darkest  thoughts 
And  make  them  plain  to  me, 

I  know  not  one  so  full  of  art 
No  one  so  apt  as  she. 

She  was  with  me  on  first  of  May  ; 

For  me  she  then  did  write 
With  little  kind  and  gentle  deeds, 

She  7s  like  my  heart's  delight. 


ADDITIONAL  POEMS. 


INTRODUCTORY  TO  SECOND  EDITION. 

Y  book  is  largely  growing  ; 
Its  leaves  are  multiplied  ; 
HP  Its  pages  are  much  longer, 
'And  nearly  twice  as  wide. 

At  first  I  thought  the  reader 

Had  not  the  time  to  spare, 
To  hail  my  little  volume 

As  it  floated  in  the  air. 

I  thought  perhaps  while  floating 
Away  through  empty  space, 

Perchance  would  there  discover 
Some  long  forgotten  race. 

I  knew  not  it  would  mingle 

Among  the  great  and  wise, 
Or  that  it  would  be  subject 

Unto  the  critic's  eyes. 

I  thought  it  was  inferior, 

And  of  the  minor  class, 
I  knew  not  how  the  ladies 

Would  read  it  as  they  pass. 


50 


But  now  I  find  it 's  useful, 

And  laden  every  page, 
For  truly  it  must  mingle 

With  those  of  every  age. 

Therefore  I  should  have  measured ; 

Should  not  have  thought  it  vain 
To  make  its  little  mysteries 

Unto  the  reader  plain. 

But  surely  there  's  no  secret 
Where  thought  is  not  sublime, 

That  I  have  thus  destroyed 
By  keeping  up  my  rhyme. 

But  if  I  should  in  future 
Find  this  to  be  the  case, 

I  '&  take  my  silver  pencil 
And  all  these  lines  erase. 

I  ;d  rather  use  a  license, 

Or  grammar's  laws  dispense, 

Than  for  to  let  my  metre 
Or  rhythm  govern  sense. 

The  reader  will  remember 
My  chances  are  but  slim, 

Or  else  this  little  volume 
Would  be  in  better  trim. 

Remember,  too,  in  Dixie 
That  I  was  born  a  slave. 

And  all  my  early  genius 
Was  locked  within  the  grave. 


walden's  poems,  51 

Remember  my  condition — 

A  mark  within  my  eyes — 
AM  all  my  inspirations 

Are  showered  from  the  skiBs. 

I  cannot  read  of  authors. 

Nor  those  of  noble  faUTe*, 
For\  I  ;m  just  a  learning 

The  author,  Milton's,  name. 

I  cannot  borrow  subjects, 

Nor  rob  them  of  their  style, 
My  book  amid  their  volumes, 

Like  me,  is  but  a  child. 

Therefore,  I  bless  this  volume, 

And  send  with  it  my  heart, 
That  it  may  to  the  critic 

My  better  thoughts  impart. 

Go  forth,  then,  little  volume, 
Much  good  from  thee  may  sprifig, 

If  thou  continueth  pleading 
The  merits  of  thy  King. 

And  others  yet  may  follow^ 

All  changed  within  their 
Bitt  tho^  upon  thy  mission, 

I  am  sure  ean  nevef  fail. 


52 


PHILADELPHIA,  SEPT.,  1872, 

TO  THE  FACULTY  OF  HOWARD  UNIVERSITY  : 

ENTLEMEN,  I  ray  pen  have  raised, 
j  The  one  by  which  your  Board  I've  praised  ; 
F||  It  is  a  pen  of  noble  deeds, 
By  which  I  have  sown  wisdomrs  seeds. 

It  is  a  pen  I  long  have  trained. 
By  it  a  thousand  hearts  I  Ve  gained; 
For  it  was  truly  made  of  steel, 
Therefore  to  it  your  hearts*  wiM  yield. 

For  troly  it  does  speak  to-day , 
As  did  it  on  the  first  of  May  ;. 
For  then  I  know  it  did  record 
Your  little  and  your  great  reward* 

Remember  that  its  highest  aim 
Is  much  like  yours — is  much  the  same  ; 
For  you  will  heal  the  wounded  heartr 
And  give  the  young  an  upward  start. 

Therefore  I  place  upon  its  wings 
The  name  of  her  who  plays  and  sings, 
And  all  thy  honors  I  11  extend 
If  you  will  be  this  singer's-  friend. 

And  then  in  every  swelling  note* 
Arising  from  the  singer's  throat, 


POEMS.  53 

In  every  song  your  name  she  '11  praise, 
If  you  will  crown  her  student  days. 

I  hope  that  you  '11  accept  of  me, 
Not  only  one,  but  names  of  three  ; 
And  then  excuse  these  lines  I  write, 
For  one  is  dark  and  two  are  white. 

Behold  their  names  I  did  omit, 
For  them  there  is  no  place  as  yet, 
Therefore  it  ;s  well  that  each  one  knows, 
That  I  can  send  their  names  in  prose. 

Kind  friends,  I  know  you  Ve  not  the  time 
To  bother  with  each  little  rhyme, 
Therefore  you  '11  look  beyond  each  link, 
And  judge  from  what  you  know  I  think. 

I  hope  that  you  will  keep  for  me. 
The  room  I  think  is  number  three, 
For  there  my  things  are  put  away, 
Withiu  that  room,  I  long  to  stay. 

For  you  I  have  an,  "  areolite' 
Which  I  shall  send  when  you  shall  write, 
And  it  I  know  will  please  you  well, 
To  know  the  Ian  d  in  which  it  fell. 

Ten  catalogues  I  hope  you  '11  send 
For  here  four  days  I  have  to  spend, 
To  me  send  them  by  the  Express, 
For  now  I  have  not  my  address. 


54  WALDENS     POEM'S. 

There 's  other  things  I  'd  like  to  say, 
But  I  have  not  the  time  to-day, 
I  Ve  not  the  time  to  longer  write, 
For  evening's  shades  foretell  the  night. 


■-0-0- 


When  in  Philadelphia  lately,  loosing  my  ticket,  my  funds 
being  at  the  ebb,  I  took  the  following  method  to  secure  trans- 
portation at  reduced  rates ;  remembering  the  old  adage, 
"  Where  there  is  a  will  there  is  a  way." 

TO    ALFRED    HORNER. 

DEAR  SIR, 

|p  you  to  me  a  pass  will  give, 
1 11  cause  your  name  in  time  to  live, 
It  in  my  book  I  will  record 
Which  will  be  for  your  own  reward. 

You  may  not  know  what  I  will  gain, 
Except  you  send  me  on  your  train, 
Nor  do  you  know  what  I  will  loose 
If  you  to  me  a  pass  refuse. 

I  would  address  the  President 
But  here  my  time  is  quite  near  spent. 
A  man  whose  heart  is  without  bound 
The  dearest  friend  the  needy 's  found* 


■<^-o- 


waldbn's  poehs.  55 

LETTER  TO   MISS    CRANE. 

Howard  University ,- 
Washington,  D.  G,  Aug.  23,  1872. 

Y  pen,  dear  friend,  is  made  of  gold, 

It  always  tells  the  truth, 
It  serves  me  now  while  I  am  old, 
As  well  as  when  a  youth, 

It  often  guides  my  thoughts  aright, 

When  they  would  go  astray, 
It  is  my  body-guard  by  night, 

As  well  as  in  the  day. 

I  look  on  it  as  would  I  thee, 

Its  worth  I  Ve  never  told, 
For  all  the  kindness  shown  to  me, 

Its  value  's  more  than  gold. 

Its  gold  to  me  like  ancient  dross, 
Compared  with  all  her  wealth, 

Like  thee  it  helps  to  bear  the  cross 
In  sickness  and  in  health. 

For  me  new  friends  it  makes  each  day, 

New  lines  it  does  record, 
It  causes  me  to  watch  and  pray,. 

And  trust  upon  the  Lord. 

It  often  pleads  the  needy's  case, 

It  makes  his  troubles  known  ; 
It  puts  him  in  his  proper  place, 

And  points  him  to  God's  throne. 


56 


It  knows  a  maid  both  just  and  true, 
One  weighed  in  virtue's  scale, 

Whom  I  will  now  present  to  you, 
Whose  deeds  can  never  fail. 

A  student  she  would  gladly  be, 
She  has  no  means  nor  friend 

Who  freely  would,  that  she  can  see, 
For  her  a  dollar  spend. 

Oh !  lay  her  case  before  the  east, 

Or  thy  own  native  State, 
That  they  may  take  her  from  the  least, 

And  place  her  with  the  great. 

Tell  them,  for  me,  their  name  shall  live 
With  thine  on  history's  page, 

If  they  Miss  Johnson  aid  will  give, 
The  fair  one  of  this  age. 

No  one  his  dollar  will  withhold, 

From  such  a  worthy  girl ; 
The  miser,  too,  will  bring  his  gold — - 

His  treasures  he  11  unfurl. 

Remember,  that  her  parents  died 

When  she  was  but  a  child. 
She  has  no  lovers  by  her  side, 

Though  she  is  meek  and  mild. 

Kind  Miss,  to  you  no  more  I  11  say, 
I  11  leave  you  in  God's  care, 


WAL  den's    poems.  57 

I  hope  you  have  a  pleasant  day, 
For  such  an  one  is  here. 


LETTER  TO  REV.  MR.  HARTRAUGHT. 

Howard  University, 
Washington,  J).  C.  October  19,  1872. 
Rev.  Mr.  Hartraught  : 

Dear  Sir :  I  would  have  gladly  remained  in  New  Bruns- 
wick longer  last  summer  ;  but,  as  you  know,  my  vacation  was 
nearly  spent  when  I  reached  there,  and  being  anxious  to  get 
back  to  Washington  by  the  opening  of  the  term,  I  departed 
thence.  I  was  much  strengthened  while  there  by  your  Sab- 
bath school,  prayer  meetings,  and  other  religious  worship, 
and  would  like  very  much  to  be  with  you  to-day — if  it  were 
possible — 

iecause  it  is  the  Sabbath  day, 

A  day  of  rest  provided  ; 
Upon  this  day,  in  every  church, 
Our  God  has  long  presided. 

When  first  I  came  unto  thy  church, 
I  heard  sweet  voices  singing — 

From  God  I  thought  the  angels  were 
To  thee  glad  tidings  bringing. 

I  sure  was  there  to  hear  thee  pray — 
Was  there  whilst  thou  was't  preaching  ; 

How  precious  did  the  gospel  sound, 
Which  thou  to  us  was't  teaching. 

The  Lord  will  blest  thy  day  and  age, 
Give  souls  to  thee  for  hire, 


58 


When  thou  wilt  with  thy  little  flock, 
To  brighter  fields  aspire. 

Remember,  there  's  a  rising  up 
Of  all  the  friends  of  Jesus  ; 

Kemember,  too,  there  is  a  God, 
An  eye  that  ever  sees  us. 

Are  we  not  marching  onward  to 
"  Eternal  weights  "  of  Glory  ? 

Did  not  the  prophets  and  the  saints 
Before  us  tell  the  story  ? 

Is  there  not  love  for  us  unseen, 
Where  we  shall  live  forever  ? 

Is  there  an  end  to  life  unknown  ? 
The  answer  comes,  "  No,  never  i" 

Then  let  us  strive  with  all  our  might, 

Exerting  every  power  ; 
That  we  may  rest  in  Heaven  above, 

Through  one  eternal  hour. 


TO   JOHN   K.   SMITH, 

A  VENERABLE  OLD  GENTLEMAN  OF  TRENTON,  N.  J.,  WHO  IS  AN 
TEEMED  FRIEND  OF  MINE. 

|hese  many  years  my  pen  has  sped, 
"  These  many  years  to  duty  led  ; 
gp  And  now  it  bends  unto  my  will, 
As  though  it  were  an  eagle's  quill. 


walden's   poems.  59 

For  days  and  years  it  has  been  tried, 
Nor  to  me  has  it  ever  lied  ; 
Therefore  its  worth  is  more  than  gold, 
For  it  the  truth  has  ever  told. 

And  now  it  does  record  for  thee, 
How  very  kind  thou  art  to  me  ; 
It  tells  me  that  thou  art  my  friend, 
And  dost  for  me  thy  money  spend. 

And  it  would  truly  speak  the  fruth, 
Were  it  to  trace  thee  to  thy  youth. 
And  it  would  fill  my  heart  with  joy, 
To  hear  of  thee  when  but  a  boy. 

But,  oh,  it  's  called  to  other  things, 
To  lead  me  to  life's  gushing  springs, 
Where  I  may  drink  a  full  supply, 
And  write  on  man,  on  earth,  and  sky, 

It  's  called  to  guide  my  hand  aright, 
To  lead  me  into  wisdom's  light ; 
It's  moved  to  point  me  to  the  Lord, 
For  He  the  faithful  will  reward. 


DEDICATED  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY 

representing  the  indian  race  at  howard  university. 

Howard  University, 
Washington,  D.  C,  October  11,  1872. 
The  reason  of  my  writing  this  poem  is,  that  in  every  pa 
per  I  read,  this  question  repeatedly  presents  itself : 

"Can  the  Indians  be  Civilized  and  Christianized?" 


60  WAL  DEN'S    POEMS. 

According  to  my  experience  with  them  in  the  University, 
I  think  it  properly  answered  by  saying  "  Yes." 

We  have  a  young  lady  to  whom  this  poem  is  dedicated, 
who  is  my  table-mate.  She  is  bright  and  intelligent ;  and  I 
am  sure  any  one  coming  into  her  presence,  and  conversing 
with  her,  or,  if  circumstances  permit,  hearing  her  read  some 
of  her  essays,  cannot  return  without  feeling  that  he  had  been 
in  company  with  one  who  represents  her  race  honorably. 

I  have  often  thought  from  her  punctuality  in  attendance 
at  church,  that  every  one  might  learn  a  lesson,  which  no  one 
can  teach,  only  those  who  practice  the  same.    . 

Now,  I  regard  those  questions  as  did  I  those  frequently 
asked  in  our  late  war,  "  If  the  colored  people  could  bear  arms 
and  fight  for  their  country?"  "Could  they  be  made  loyal 
citizens,  or  lifted  from  a  state  of  degradation,  from  under  the 
scales  in  which  men  are  weighed,  and  put  upon  the  platform 
of  common  manhood?"  We  answered  those  questions  with 
the  sword  and  by  the  ballot ;  and,  likewise,  the  Indians  v/ill 
answer  these  important  questions  in  perhaps  twenty  years  to 
come,  if  they  are  justly  dealt  with.  They  only  ask  our  Gov- 
ernment to  give  them  good  and  true  men,  and  they  will  do 
their  part. 

hile  sitting  in  my  room  kind  Miss, 
I  thought  I'd  sing  a  praise, 
?MS5  But  now  I  think  I'll  write  a  word, 
To  lighten  up  thy  days. 

It's  true  I  often  write  on  Queens, 

And  those  of  noble  fame  : 
But  now  I  seek  to  write  a  line 

Upon  thy  honored  name. 

What  's  in  thy  name  moves  me  to  write, 

This  little  verse  on  thee  ? 
Perhaps  it  is  thy  pleasant  ways, 

And  cheering  looks  to  me. 


POEMS.  61 

How  oft  I  think  of  thee,  kind  Miss, 

And  oft  admire  thy  grace, 
Because  I  know  that  thou  art  of 

Another  noble  race ! 

When  by  the  bells  to  meals  we're  called, 

Or  round  the  table  meet, 
With  anxious  eye  I  look  to  see 

If  thou  art  in  thy  seat. 

And  then  I  cast  my  eyes  around, 
Through  hall,  though  long  and  wide, 

And  then  I  quickly  look  to  see 
Thy  tea-mate  by  thy  side. 

But  first  of  all  the  bell  is  rung, 

And  each  within  his  place, 
In  silence  each  one  bows  his  head, 

'Till  some  one  asks  the  grace. 

Then  each  in  seat  with  upturned  plates, 

And  scarce  a  word  is  said, 
Until  we  have  a  full  supply 

Of  meats  and  baker's  bread. 

And  dishes,  too,  are  passing  round 

About  from  you  and  me  ; 
And  Clara  she  looks  up  and  asks — 

Pray,  sir,  what  can  it  be  ? 

It  's  pork,  of  course,  or  else  it 's  beef ; 
Perchance  it  may  be  ham — 


62  walden's   POEMS. 


Except  the  baker  cooked  a  goose, 
And  passed  it  off  for  lamb. 

And  if  he  has  a  cut  will  tell, 

If  round  about  its  swallow, 
For  surely  it  is  not  so  dead, 

That  it  would  fail  to  halloo. 

While  all  of  this  is  going  on, 
There  're  other  things  in  view  ; 

For  oft  I  catch  myself,  dear  Miss, 
Exchanging  looks  with  you. 

But  soon  we  're  through,  the  bell  does  ring, 
We  Ye  called  by  duty's  'larms  ; 

Nor  can  I  longer  sit  and  look 
Upon  thy  brilliant  charms. 

I  'd  speak  of  all  my  table  mates 

Had  I  another  pen, 
For  surely  we  're  as  happy  guests 

As  here  have  ever  been. 


WISH  FOR  AN   OVERCOAT. 

■H !  had  I  now  an  overcoat, 
For  I  am  nearly  freezing  ; 
W*j$  My  head  and  lungs  are  stopped  with  cold, 
And  often  I  am  sneezing. 


WALDEN'S     POEMS.  63 

And,  too,  while  passing  through  the  street, 
Where  merchants  all  are  greeting, 

They  say,  young  man  this  is  the  coat 
That  you  should  wear  to  meeting. 

Then,  looking  down  upon  my  feet, 
For  there  my  boots  are  bursting, 

With  upturned  heels  and  grinning  toes, 
With  tacks  which  long  were  rusting. 

Ah  !  how  they  view  my  doeskin  pants 
With  long  and  crooked  stitches, 

They  say,  young  man  would  you  not  like 
To  have  some  other  breeches  ? 

My  head  is  also  hatless  too, 

The  wind  is  swiftly  blowing, 
They  say,  young  man  will  you  not  freeze? 

See  ye  not  how  it 's  snowing  ? 

And  now  they  take  me  by  the  hand, 

And  lead  me  toward  the  store, 
And  some  are  pulling  down  the  coats 

Before  I  reach  the  door* 

So  walk  I  in,  their  goods  to  price, 
To  quench  a  thirst  that's  burning, 

And  freely  would  I  buy  a  coat, 
But  nothing  I  am  earning. 

They  say  to  me,  I  should  haTSloiOWD, 
That  winter  time  was  coming) 


64 


When  I  was  roaming  through  the  park, 
With  birds  around  me  humming. 

Their  logic's  true,  I  must  confess, 
And  all  they  say  is  pleasant ; 

But  did  I  know  that  I  would  have 
No  overcoat  at  present  ? 

To  satisfy  these  craving  Jews, 

To  buy  I  am  not  able, 
For  it  is  more  than  I  can  do 

To  meet  my  wants  at  table. 

Therefore  my  skin  will  toughly  grow, 
Will  grant  to  me  this  favor, 

That  I  may  learn  to  stand  as  much 
As  little  Jack,  the  sailor. 

And  if  I  live  till  winter's  passed, 
Though  nature's  harps  unstringing, 

I  then  will  fly  to  yon  woodland 
To  hear  the  oak  trees  singing. 

Then  I  will  not  on  hero's  fame, 

Ride  swiftly  on  to  victory, 
Although  my  saddle  may  be  made 

Of  cotton  sacks  or  hickory. 

But  if  I  die,  farewell  to  all, 
Oh !  who  will  tell  the  story, 

That  I  have  lived  a  noble  life. 
And  now  gone  home  to  glory  ? 


65 

Yes,  who  will  chant  a  song  of  praise 
For  me — who  will  be  weeping — 

When  I  have  yielded  to  the  grave, 
And  'mid  the  dead  am  sleeping  ? 

But  some  will  ask,  "  how  did  he  die  ? 

It  was  without  my  knowing ; 
Was  it  because  he  caught  a  cold, 

Last  year  when  it  was  snowing  ?" 

The  answer  now  comes  hurling  back, 

In  words  I  cannot  utter, 
It  was  not  by  a  cold  alone, 

But  partly  bread  and  butter. 

[This  poem  is  dedicated  to  my  own  necessities  and  wants.] 


TO  HON.  SENATOR  POMEROY. 

[These  lines  were  written  in  honor  of  the  above  gentleman, 
to  whom  the  temperance  cause  is  so  much  indebted.] 

Howard  University,  Washington,  D.  C. 
Dear  Sir  : 

^^hy  name,  within  my  book, 
Mte     Is  like  an  eagle's  wing, 
ES  It  bears  each  rhyme  unto  the  prince, 
And  onward  to  the  king. 

And  also  shines  on  history's  page, 
It  dazzles  every  eye, 


66  WAL  DEN'S     POEMS. 

Because  it  's  like  a  twinkle  from 
A  rainbow  in  the  sky. 

And  now  its  light  reflects  upon 

Thy  many  honored  deeds, 
On  all  my  race  by  thee  bestowed, 

In  shape  of  wisdom's  seeds. 

Thy  country,  sir,  has  read  this  book, 
And  looked  upon  thy  name  ; 

No  anger  burned  within  her  breast, 
On  cheek  no  blush  of  shame. 

And,  too,  she  's  also  proud  of  thee 

She  want's  ten  thousand  more, 

Whose  hand  is  open  like  the  king's — 
Extended  to  the  poor. 

She  blessed  the  day  that  gave  thee  birth- 
Will  multiply  thy  days, 

Of  all  her  bright  and  rising  sons, 
Kind  friend  thou  hast  the  praise. 


TO  MISS  N.  J. 

Howard  University, 
Washington,  D.  C,  August  19,  1872* 

ISS  N.  J**,  I  my  pen  have  taken, 
The  one  that  is  so  just  and  kind, 

And  all  the  fair  ones  I  've  forsaken, 
Because  thou  hast  my  heart  and  mind. 


WALD  EN  ;S    POEMS.  (>7 

To  thee  these  lines  may  be  surprising 
Because  they  're  of  an  early  date  ; ' 

But  would'st  thou  be  more  sympathizing 
If  I  to  write  should  longer  wait  ? 

On  thee  I  look  with  much  compassion, 

Tender,  0,  I  know  thou  art ; 
I  like  thy  style  and  love  the  fashion— 

Thine  image  dwells  within  my  heart. 

Thy  little  hand  is  yonng  and  tender, 
Arduous  tasks  it  should  not  know  • 

Thy  graceful  form  is  neat  and  slender, 
Like  lilies  that  in  gardens  grow. 

Behold  for  thee  there  is  a  calling, 
Within  the  land  among  the  free  ; 

For  there  the  wise  in  sin  are  falling 
How  would'st  thou  like  to  be  with  me? 

O  !  wilt  thou  try  to  come  to  college, 
Where  wisdom  teacher's  do  impart, 

And  here  partake  of  richest  knowledge, 
Overflowing  mind  and  heart? 

Arise !  come  up  a  little  higher, 
Do  never  stop  beneath  thy  grade, 

To  higher  ranks  why  not  aspire  ? 
Pray  tell  me  why  hast  thou  delayed  ? 

There  's  been  no  gentle  hand  to  lead  me, 
Not  since  my  pa  and  ma  have  died, 


68 


Nor  one  so  kind  to  clothe  and  feed  me— 
No  one  the  task  has  ever  tried. 

Kind  Miss,  I  spoke  as  would  a  brother — 
As  one  whose  heart  beats  firm  and  true ; 

Because  I  knew  thou  hadst  no  other 
To  kindly  tell  thee  what  to  do. 

And  now  to  thee  I  'd  tell  a  mystery, 
Although  in  it  myself  I'd  praise, 

Therefore  leave  it  to  other  history, 
To  speak  of  all  my  happy  days. 

I  might  tell  thee  my  heart  is  willing 
That  I  should  be  thy  guide  through  life, 

But  while  I  am  not  worth  a  shilling, 
Why  should  I  seek  thee  for  a  wife  ? 

My  friend  I  know  that  I'ma  student 
Preparing  for  some  distant  land  ; 

Pray  tell  me  if  it  would  be  prudent, 
Were  I  to  ask  thee  for  thy  hand  ? 

For  I  can  see  stamped  in  thy  features 
What  never  living  man  has  seen, 

That  thou  wouldst  make  a  handsome  creature, 
And  also  me  a  loving  queen. 

To  thee,  kind  Miss,  I  '11  write  no  longer. 

For  evening  shades  are  drawing  nigh  ; 
Perhaps  thy  love  is  growing  stronger, 

The  moments  whisper,  passing  by. 


69 


GRATITUDE. 

To  the  President  and  Members  of  the  Christian  Association: 

Having  learned  that  my  resignation  was  reconsidered  by 
you,  and  having  been  treated  with  such  brotherly  love,  I  am 
constrained  to  express  my  gratitude  to  you  in  an  humble 
manner  : 

iOR  when  I  heard  this  glorious  news, 

It  filled  my  heart  with  joy, 
And  quickly  to  my  pen  I  sprang, 
As  though  I  were  a  boy. 

Indeed  it  did  remove  all  doubt, 
And  filled  my  heart  with  pleasure, 

And  now  I  write  regardless  of 
My  rhythm  or  my  measure. 

I  must  confess  in  words  of  truth,    . 

I  found  myself  in  danger, 
And  when  I  came  within  your  court, 

I  felt  as  would  a  stranger. 

I  listened  long  to  hear  your  call — 
In  this  way  long  was  waiting  ; 

But  soon  I  heard  a  shepherd's  voice, 
And  with  him  lambs  were  bleating. 

I  thought,  perhaps,  it  was  my  chance, 

Perhaps  it  was  a  warning, 
Perhaps  I  would  not  live  to  see 

The  light  of  day  when  dawning. 


70 


And,  too,  the  road  on  which  I  trod, 
Was  dark  and  much  descending, 

And  all  I  met  within  that  way, 
Were  quarrelling  and  contending. 

And  oft  I  tried  to  bow  and  pray — 

To  pray  I  was  not  able  ; 
For  all  my  supplications  were 

As  but  an  empty  fable. 

I  gladly  did  embrace  this  chance, 
And  quickly  came  to  Jesus  ; 

When  I  remembered  that  there  was 
A  God  that  ever  sees  us. 


TO   PROFESSOR  ATHERTON. 

Howard  University, 
Washington,  D.  C,  Dec.  12,  1872. 
Dear  Sir  :  Two  years  will  soon  have  passed  since  my  con- 
nection with  this  University,  and  I  am  happy  to  say  I  am  pro- 
gressing finely  ;  and  am  rapidly  approaching  my  sixth  exami- 
nation, at  which  time  every  energy  shall  be  bent  to  its  utmost 
extreme.  I  have  been  making  out  my  expenses  which  I  find 
to  be  very  heavy,  though  not  to  be  compared  with  the  small 
amount  of  knowledge  which  I  have  gained  ;  and,  too,  when  I 
consider  that  these  privileges  of  going  to  school  have  par- 
tially grown  out  of  your  influence,  I  am  constrained  to  express 
my  gratitude  to  you.  I  should  have  made  an  acknowledgment 
ere  this,  but  thought  it  best  to  wait  until  I  am  sufficiently 
competent  5  and  would  still  wait  longer — 

(fpfjUT  this  my  pen  is  getting  old, 
||ij|  Its  noble  limbs  are  dull  and  cold,    . 
^te|j[  Therefore  to  thee  I  write  in  praise. 
In  honor  of  its  active  days. 


POEMS.  71 

My  hand  no  longer  will  it  serve, 
Nor  will  it  on  my  paper  curve  ; 
For  it  is  robed  in  shrouds  of  death — 
Without  a  pulse,  without  a  breath. 

On  lines  no  longer  will  it  slide, 
Nor  will  it  over  paper  glide  ; 
No  longer  will  it  lead  the  youth 
In  ways  of  virtue  and  of  truth. 

Nor  will  it  longer  honor  thee 
For  kindness  thou  hast  shown  to  me, 
Nor  will  it  longer  thus  record 
A  line  of  praise  unto  the  Lord. 

No  longer  will  I  doubt  and  shake, 
For  fear  its  limber  legs  will  break  ; 
Nor  will  it  longer  shiver  names, 
Nor  turn  my  paper  into  flames. 

No  longer  will  it  hop  and  skip, 
Recording  thoughts  expressed  by  lip  ; 
Nor  will  its  little  wiry  toes 
Transcribe  my  poetry  into  prose. 

This  little  pen  no  more  will  write, 
For  it  will  pass  away  this  night ; 
No  longer  will  it  sing  a  praise 
In  honor  of  its  youthful  days. 

Wilt  thou  accept  this  line  or  two, 
That's  written  by  a  friend  so  true  ; 
Accept  it  in  the  writer's  name, 
Who's  free  from  sorrow  and  from  shame. 


72  WALDEN7S    POEMS. 

THE   GOLDEN   RULE: 

ITS  INRRODUCTION  AT  THE  UNIVERSITY. 

[This  rhetorical  poem  was  written  in  honor  of  Prof.  A.  L. 
Barber,  who  was  the  principal  on  my  entering  school.) 

hen  first  we  came  unto  this  school, 
They  introduced  the  golden  rule, 
jp  And  put  us  in  the  narrow  way 
In  which  we  journey  on  to-day. 

How  precious  did  that  rule  appear 
To  us  who  had  assembled  here  ; 
And  in  that  road  a  shining  light 
To  guide  each  student's  feet  aright. 

But  soon  new  laws  were  multiplied^ 
And  roads  branched  out  on  either  side  ; 
A  law  applied  to  every  case, 
A  road  prepared  for  every  race. 

And  we  with  not  a  word  to  say, 
Except  those  laws  we  should  obey, 
Nor  did  a  foot  once  turn  aside, 
To  tread  the  way  both  rough  and  wide. 

But  blended  laws  and  roads  in  one, 
That  we  no  duty  thus  might  shun ; 
Unto  God's  sceptre  bowed  and  prayed 
That  we  might  never  be  dismayed. 


POEMS. 


73 


As  soon  as  classes  were  assigned 
And  teachers  given,  much  refined  ; 
Each  heart  was  filled  with  many  joys 
Among  the  girls,  among  the  boys. 

Now  looking  back  upon  the  past, 
To  view  the  ranks  where  we  were  classed, 
And  each  one's  friend  will  quickly  see, 
That  we  were  placed  within  Class  D. 

With  energy  we  sought  to  rise, 
To  mingle  with  the  great  and  wise ; 
In  ways  unknown  we  do  succeed, 
And  now  we  bear  the  highest  meed. 

Another  thought  I  may  unfurl, 
Because  we  represent  the  world  ; 
Of  every  tribe  and  every  race, 
And  each  one  in  his  proper  place. 

Like  yonder  Sun,  his  highest  rays, 
The  nation's  eyes  will  on  us  gaze, 
And  she  will  mark  the  way  we  tread 
When  we  to  higher  ranks  have  fled. 

And  when  you  've  left  the  shores  of  time 
I  '11  weave  your  footprints  up  in  rhyme  ; 
And  change  my  verses  to  a  song 
When  you  those  pearly  gates  shall  throng. 

And  when  I  come  I  '11  look  to  see 
The  one  so  kind  to  you  and  me  j 


74  waldbn's  poems. 

And  there  together  we  will  sing, 
And  make  the  heavenly  echoes  ring. 

Teacher,  I  would  not  flatter  you, 
To  say  that  you  are  just  and  true, 
Nor  prove  unkind  to  my  class-mate, 
To  say  he  often  calls  you  great. 

But  speaking  for  myself  alone', 
Have  you  not  to  me  pity  shown  ? 
Your  ways  e'er  long  have  been  my  guide — 
To  you  a  thousand  hearts  have  tied. 

And  now  we  step  upon  the  boat, 
Which  will  on  higher  billows  float ; 
And  onward  she  will  cast  her  sail, 
When  driven  by  the  nightly  gale. 

And  had  we  now  an  ounce  of  time, 
We  would  on  higher  ladders  climb  ; 
The  gates  of  college  we  would  raise, 
And  then  on  deeper  mysteries  gaze. 

But,  ah !  the  day  is  growing  late, 
To  hear  my  song  you  cannot  wait ; 
But  had  my  harp  another  string, 
This  song  I  then  would  play  and  sing. 

TO    MISS  W  *****  . 

Will  yon  accept  of  an  apology  for  my  not  seeing  yon  safely 
to  Minor  Hall  last  evening,  with  my  umbrella,  whilst  raining. 
I  did  not  mean  to  leave  yon  exposed,  but  another  young  lady 
said  that  "We  would  not  get  wet,"  and  I  thought  she  had  ref- 
erence to  you  and  herself,  though  she  meant  another  person. 


75 


therefore  you  were  not  slighted, 
U    Not  in  the  least  degree; 
?%  Although,  when  not  a  thinking, 
*      I  turned  aside  from  thee. 

I  thought  it  was  a  token 
That  A.  G.  spoke  for  all, 

And  feared  myself  to  ask  your 
Permission  to  the  hall. 

Then  I,  with  this  impression, 
Kind  Miss,  what  could  I  do  ? 

Could  I  escort  you  safely, 
Without  consent  from  you  ? 

And  then,  too,  shamed  to  venture 

Or  linger  by  your  side, 
And  this  explains  the  reason 

Why  thus  I  turned  aside. 

Therefore,  you  will  excuse  me, 
For  I  have  made  it  plain, 

And  sorry  that  I  left  you, 
Last  night  within  the  rain. 

Now,  when  the  night  grows  darker, 
And  rain  shall  harder  fall, 

Then  you  shall  have  my  presence 
From  prayer  to  Miner  Hall. 

Or  when  the  moon  is  shining, 
And  stars  shall  fill  the  sky, 

I  will  not  then  forsake  you, 
Nor  let  you  pass  me  by. 


76  walden's  poems. 


ODE  TO  MR.  DUNLAP  AND  FAMILY. 

Much  honor  is  due  Mr.  Dunlap  and  family,  both  from  my- 
self and  race.  He  was  one  of  the  leading  men  of  Philadelphia 
in  the  anti-slavery  movement,  and  a  just  man.  I  went  to 
Philadelphia  with  soldiers  and  sailors  from  Washington  in 
1866,  to  celebrate  the  nomination  of  U.  S.  Grant.  Before  I 
was  ready  to  return  I  lost  my  ticket.  I  was  left  by  my  com- 
panions without  any  means  for  securing  another,  for  I  did  not 
have  enough  money  to  hire  a  night's  lodging,  and  every  per- 
son whom  I  met  rejected  me  on  that  account.  Coming  down 
Broad  street  about  eight  o'clock  in  the  night  I  was  interrupted 
by  two  gentlemen,  who,  on  seeing  me,  said:  "  There  goes  a 
carpet-bagger."  I  replied  that  carpet-baggers  do  not  come 
from  the  South. 

"Where  are  you  from?"  asked  Mr.  William  Dunlap.  "I 
am  from  North  Carolina,  but  from  Washington  here."  After 
questioning  me  closely,  "  Take  my  card,"  said  he,  "  and  go 
to  my  house,  tell  my  wife  to  give  you  a  good  supper  and  bed, 
and  I  hope  you  will  remain  with  us  until  Monday."  I  thanked 
him  and  started.  On  reaching  the  door  I  at  first  hesitated  to 
ring  the  bell ;  finally  I  pulled  the  knob  which  brought  Mrs. 
Dunlap  to  the  door.  She  is  a  generous  lady  and  had  a  pro- 
found reverence  for  the  words  of  her  husband.  After  pre- 
senting Mr.  Dunlap's  card,  she  politely  invited  me  into  the 
parlor.  In  a  short  time  Mr.  Dunlap  came  in  and  inquired  for 
the  stranger.  "  He  is  in  the  parlor,"  said  Mrs.  Dunlap.  I  was 
soon  surrounded  by  all  the  members  of  that  happy  because  a 
good  family.  After  receiving  an  introduction  to  them  all, 
supper  was  prepared ;  and  although  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dunlap  had 
eaten  before,  they  sat  down  and  took  tea  with  myself.  Now, 
after  supper,  Mr.  Dunlap  recpiested  me  to  give  a  brief  sketch 
of  my  life,  which  I  gladly  did.  The  whole  family  seemed  to 
me  to  be  exceedingly  interested  in  my  story,  but  little  Wil- 
liam and  Eliza,  although  very  young,  looked  upon  me  with 
purely  angelic  faces,  and  before  the  evening  passed  1  became 
the  centre  of  attraction.  At  last  the  clock  struck  ten.  Mr. 
Dunlap  took  down  his  bible  and  read  a  chapter.  The  family 
sang  a  hymn  and  I  was  invited  to  lead  in  prayer.  It  was,  of 
course,  an  arduous  task,  but  I  performed  it  to  the  best  of  my 
ability. 


POEMS.  77 

I  was  then  directed  to  a  well  arranged  bed-chamber,  where 
I  enjoyed  sweet  repose  from  the  fatiguing  scenes  of  the  day. 
On  awaking  in  the  morning  I  found  myself  in  so  different  a 
place  from  what  I  had  anticipated,  that  I  was  at  a  loss  to  de- 
termine whether  I  was  awake  or  dreaming.  You  will  readily 
believe  that  this  beautiful  apartment  was  a  striking  contrast 
to  the  coal-box  I  was  about  to  seek  shelter  for  the  night  on 
one  of  the  wharves  of  that  great  city.  The  floor  was  nicely 
carpeted;  the  bed  made  of  feathers,  and  dressed  with  rose- 
bordered  blankets,  and  a  snow-ball  counterpane,  with  pillows 
as  soft  as  downy  pillows  are.  There  was  a  large  spring-bot- 
tomed rocking-chair,  a  bowl  and  pitcher,  a  bureau  with  a  large 
mirror  on  it,  and  many  other  things  which  augmented  the 
comfort  and  happiness  of  its  fortunate  occupant.  I  remained 
with  them  until  Wednesday,  at  which  time,  being  supplied 
with  passage  money,  I  left  for  Washington.  At  the  reception 
given  General  Grant  in  Philadelphia,  Eliza  Dunlap  was  the 
only  child  our  great  President  kissed,  and  I  have  dedicated 
the  following  lines  to  her : 

||1|h  !  thou  my  pen  with  sacred  fame ; 
(Op  Canst  thou  record  Eliza's  name  ? 
§|||  For  she  's  both  gentle,  meek  and  mild, 
^     A  happy  little  loving  child, 

Come  view  the  ground  on  which  she  '11  tread, 
Go  bless  the  crown  upon  her  head  ; 
For  tranquil  lights  spring  from  her  eyes, 
Like  rainbows  mid  the  bending  skies. 

She  's  quite  as  lovely  to  be  seen, 
As  any  earth  or  Heavenly  queen, 
With  rosy  cheek  and  slender  span  ; 
With  curly  hair  and  timid  hand. 

My  pen,  I  '&  freely  bid  thee  sing 
Her  name  unto  the  proudest  king  ; 


78 


But  ah !  I  know  thou  would'st  impart 
The  dearest  secrets  of  my  heart. 

But  soon  from  me  thou  shalt  be  sent 
Unto  U.  S.,  the  President; 
'Mid  wise  men  there,  her  praises  chant, 
In  honor  of  Ulysses  Grant. 

Go  sing  them  softly,  sing  them  well, 
For  she  's  the  child  we  called  the  belle, 
I  bid  thee  linger  there  and  stay 
Until  she  's  crowned  the  queen  of  May. 

On  eagles'  wing  I  bid  thee  fly, 
Aloft  beyond  the  fleeting  sky, 
And  then  on  wheels  of  swiftest  speed, 
Among  my  pens  go  take  the  lead. 

Thy  way  is  straight,  0  do  not  miss, 
For  she  's  the  child  he  gave  a  kiss, 
And  from  that  cheek  did  spring  a  rose, 
Which  I  have  better  told  in  prose. 


<— o 


THE  WIDOW. 

One  very  cold  morning  I  met  a  widow  at  the  depot  whom 
the  train  had  left.  Wishing  to  comfort  her,  I  introduced 
myself  as  follows : 

|adt,  excuse  me  if  you  please, 
I  Your  infant  looks  as  it  would  freeze, 
ipg|^  And  you  as  one  in  great  distress, 

Why  do  you  wear  this  mourning  dress  ? 


79 


She  seems  to  pause  before  she  speaks, 
With  fading  colors  on  her  cheeks, 
Within  her  heart  she  deeply  sighed, 
To  tell  me  that  her  husband  died. 

Think  not  the  train  will  long  delay, 
Or  critics  will  their  art  display  ; 
Or  you  shall  tread  this  lonely  street, 
Without  a  lamp  unto  your  feet. 

Please  tell  me,  Ma'm,  where  yon  reside, 
And  of  the  one  who  lately  died, 
And  then  perhaps  I  will  impart 
The  better  feelings  of  my  heart. 

"  Kind  friend,  I  know  you've  not  the  time 
To  weave  my  language  up  in  rhyme, 
Nor  am  I  able  to  express 
The  reason  why  I  wear  this  dress. 

" But  I'ma  widow  thus  yon  see, 
With  not  a  heart  to  pity  me, 
And  I  am  destined  thus  to  roam 
Two  thousand  miles  or  more  from  home. 

"  My  dear  was  wounded  in  the  head, 
It  was  a  shot  that  killed  him  dead  ; 
And  thus  was  wafted  from  my  side 
A  heart  to  me  so  closely  tied. 

11  Can  I  forget  his  dying  groans, 
Which  round  me  fell  in  mournful  tones  ? 


80  walden's  poems. 

Can  I  forget  his  dying  sigh, 
That  onward  bore  him  to  the  sky? 

"  0,  no,  forget  I  never  can, 
The  traitor  shot,  the  blood  that  ran  ; 
I  can't  forget  the  mournful  day 
"When  he  was  placed  within  the  clay. 

"  Now  all  I  wish  while  here  below 
Is  for  a  robe  as  white  as  snow ; 
That  when  I  shall  be  called  to  die. 
Like  him"  on  wings  of  love  I  '11  fly. 

"  But  hark !  I  heard  the  whistle  blow, 
Soon  on  my  journey  I  must  go  ; 
Good-by,  remember  me  kind  sir, 
That  I  may  neither  doubt  nor  fear.'7 

0  heaven  give  a  gentle  smile, 
And  bless  the  widow  and  her  child, 
Let  friends  and  strangers  be  her  guide 
In  honor  of  the  one  who  died. 

To  Mrs.  N.  Z. 

AN   ADDRESS  TO   DIXIE. 

'h!  Dixie  in  thy  wounded  station, 
J  Thou  canst  not  be  a  separate  nation, 
|pf|  Nor  canst  thou  break  the  cord  that's  binding, 
Nor  set  confederate  mills  to  grinding. 

I  saw  thee  when  both  young  and  tender, 
All  lifted  up  with  pomp  and  splendor, 


walden's   poems.  81 

And  then  thy  chariots  rolled  in  grandeur, 
While  T  was  picking  on  my  "  banjo." 

But  since  that  time  I  saw  thee  falling, 
When  North  and  South  for  troops  were  calling, 
Each  nation  from  a  place  of  resting, 
Unto  the  fields  of  great  contesting. 

How  soon  I  saw  the  battle  raging, 
With  heroes  in  the  strife  engaging  ; 
I  heard  the  swords  and  sabres  clashing 
With  horse  and  rider  onward  dashing. 

'Twas  o'er  the  dead  and  oh  the  dying, 
While  shot  and  shell  through  air  were  flying, 
Unto  their  groans  I  paused  and  hearkened 
To  see  the  elements  were  darkened. 

But,  first  to  me  it  was  surprising, 
To  see  my  noble  friends  arising, 
A  million  flags  the  troops  were  raising, 
The  nation's  eyes  were  on  them  gazing, 

From  pole  to  pole  I  saw  them  leaping. 
While  Sherman  through  the  South  was  sweeping, 
I  saw  their  crimson  colors  fading, 
While  northern  land  Lee  was  invading. 

Went  Sheridan-  through  the  South  abounding, 
And  many  troops  he  was  surrounding  ; 
O  how  the  widows'  hearts  were  breaking 
When  Lee  and  Davis  calls  were  making. 


82  t^alden's  poems. 

I  saw  thy  rosy  cheeks  as  changing, 
While  mighty  guns  Grant  was  arranging. 
Nor  could  they  longer  bloom  in  flowers, 
Nor  stand  against  the  Northern  powers. 

But  now  I  see  the  war  is  ended, 
xVncl  all  thy  auger  is  suspended  ; 
Peace  I  think  I  hear  thee  crying, 
As  thou  art  to  the  Union  flying. 

And  Hallelujahs  I  am  singing, 

To  see  my  race  from  bonds  are  springing, 

For  sure  a  better  time  is  coming, 

The  insects  whisper  through  their  humming. 

So  now  farewell  to  plough  and  hoeing, 
For  I  to  Yankee  town  am  going; 
No  longer  will  I  drive  this  wagon, 
Nor  under  slavery's  chains  be  swagging, 

But  Dixie,  oh,  the  land  of  cotton, 
Let  slavery  die  and  be  forgotten  ; 
And  we  will  turn  unto  each  nation 
With  greater  zeal  for  education. 

Although  thou  long  hath  been  mistaken 
And  of  the  right  thou  hast  forsaken  ; 
But  yet  I  see  within  thee  planted 
The  love  to  thee  thy  fathers  granted. 

Therefore,  thou  shouldst  be  more  inspired 
When  father's  love  in  youth  is  fired, 


POEMS.  83 

Be  lifted  from  thy  degradation 
Above  the  bonds  of  long  probation. 

O  like  the  mighty  swelling  ocean, 
Whose  billows  roll  with  great  commotion, 
The  races  yet  will  come  together, 
In  ties  of  love  that  none  can  sever. 

Dedicated  to  the  good  will  of  all  persons  towards  the  pros- 
perity of  the  South. 


<>-*> 


THE   ICY  POEM. 

What  gave  rise  to  this  little  poem  was,  that  a  party  of  stu- 
dents went  out  on  a  skating  expedition  on  a  pond  near  the 
University,  and  the  ice  not  being  sufficiently  strong,  it  gave 
way  with  them.  I  imagined  myself  there,  and  the  following 
lines  suggested  themselves  to  my  mind  about  the  hour  of  12 
o'clock  p.  m. 

je  still !  I  thought  I  heard  it  cracking 

Around  on  every  side, 
And  soon  they  will  be  driven  by 

The  wind  upon  the  tide. 

It  breaks,  it  bends,  and  shivers  now 

Around  about  their  feet, 
And  every  nerve  is  standing  still, 

And  hearts  refuse  to  beat. 

Behold  I  see  them  standing  on 

A  little  icy  isle, 
Pray,  who  will  bring  the  hero  forth, 

Or  save  the  loving  child. 


84  wal  den's   poems. 

Look,  look,  I  see  them  whirling  round, 

All  hurried  by  the  galer 
And  not  a  breath  I  breathed  on  land, 

For  fear  their  hearts  will  fail. 

But  Hollingsworth  is  speaking  now 

Unto  the  little  dove, 
He  says,  "  If  you  will  trust  in  'me 

I  '11  prove  to  you  my  love. 

"  While  secret  shouts  are  coming  forth, 
Think  not  they  do  resound, 
Kemember,  I  am  present  now, 
And  you  shalt  ne'er  be  drowned, 

"Therefore  be  calm,  be  well  composed;, 
Although  within  the  tide, 
Then  if  you  have  to  suffer  here, 
I'll  linger  by  your  side." 

Dear  sir,  I  cannot  feel  alarmed, 

Not  in  the  least  degree, 
When  I  remember  heaven  smiles,, 

And  Jesus  looks  on  me* 

Nor  can  I  ever  be  dismayed, 
While  angels  gather  nigh, 

But  if  I  have  to  perish  nere, 
On  wings  of  love  I  '11  fly» 

Now  all  is  calm  on  isle  and  land, 
And  not  a  word  is  said, 


walden's   poems.  85 

I  cannot  hear  my  own  heart  beat, 
Nor  foot,  if  one  should  tread. 

Ten  thousand  swelling  thoughts  arise, 

From  heart  to  heart  they  leap; 
Pray  tell  me  who  will  trust  himself 

Upon  the  mighty  deep  ? 

New  plans  by  Simmons  now  are  made. 

Whose  heart  can  never  fail, 
He  quickly  comes  to  her  relief, 

And  with  him  brings  a  rail. 

But  first  of  all  a  bridge  he  builds, 

From  floating  isle  to  land. 
And  first  to  step  upon  the  rail 

To  offer  her  his  hand. 

Then  bless  the  one  who  saves  my  friend, 

To  him  I  will  impart 
The  richest  treasures  of  my  soul, 

And  dearest  of  my  heart. 

Now  turning  I  from  such  a  scene, 

To  one  that  's  more  severe, 
A  greater  accident  than  this 

Have  we  among  us  here. 

Behold !  another  7s  breaking  through, 

And  downward  she  is  sent, 
So  Shadd  he  comes  by  double  quick, 

To  save  her  he  is  bent. 


86  wal den's   poems. 

'Tis  in  the  deep  and  takes  her  up, 

And  holds  her  in  his  arms, 
With  fading  cheek  and  throbbing  heart, 

He  looks  upon  her  charms. 

God  bless  these  men  who  saved  my  friends, 
Grant  each  a  happy  life; 

0  grant  them  health,  0  grant  them  wealth, 
And  each  a  loving  wife. 

But  where  am  I  'midst  all  of  this, 

Why  do  I  from  them  stay; 
Is  it  because  I  take  no  part 

Within  their  icy  play  ? 

0,  no,  my  soul  is  witli  them  now, 

And  with  them  do  abound, 
And  stand  between  the  icy  cliffs 

That  neither  one  should  drown. 

Behold  I  stand  with  outstretched  arms, 

Come  hither  !  is  my  cry, 
Unto  the  right,  unto  the  left, 

To  either  one  I  fly. 

Dear  friends  this  sight  is  hard  to  see ; 

Can  angels  bear  the  scene  ? 
For  yonder  sank  my  heart's  delight, 

And  floated  there  my  queen. 

1  shut  my  eyes  and  wring  my  hands, 

0  whither  shall  I  go 


walden's   poems.  87 

Shall  I  launch  out  upon  the  deep, 
Where  billows  ebb  and  flow  ? 

O  then  forbid  that  I  should  see 

Another  icy  day, 
If  it  must  nip  the  buds  which  else 

Would  bloom  so  fair  in  May. 

Young  friends,  from  this  a  warning  take, 

This  thought  do  not  erase, 
But  never  hop  and  skip  upon 

The  deep's  cold,  icy  face. 

But  first  of  all  go  bless  the  Son 

Of  God,  who  ever  reigns, 
Who  sent  his  angel  of  the  sea, 

To  break  these  icy  chains. 

Then  go  and  bring  my  swiftest  steed, 

Convey  them  to  the  hall, 
And  tell  for  me  the  matron  dear, 

About  their  icy  fall. 

O  that  her  hand  would  be  their  guide, 

For  such  a  hand  must  be, 
They  should  not  trifle  with  the  ice, 

Nor  with  the  laughing  sea. 

How  glad  I  am  and  proud  to  say 

No  damage  has  been  done 
To  you  young  men  like  heroes  stood, 

Till  you  the  victory  won. 


88 


So  fare  you  well  my  playful  friends, 

And  weeping  as  we  part, 
But  may  each  one  to  each  confide 

Through  time,  in  each  one's  heart. 


o-o 


DEDICATED  TO  THE  JUNIOR  SOCIETY. 

walden's  departure  from  the-  junior  literary  society. 

iHINK  not  I  come  to  curry  favor, 

For  that  would  be  beneath  my  aim, 
And  I  would  crucify  my  honor, 
And  put  my  manhood  thus  to  shame. . 

I  merely  come  to  right  the  crooked, 
To  make  amends  where  I  was  wrong, 

I  will  not  trifle  with  your  follies, 

Nor  raise  my  hand  against  the  strong. 

I  must  confess  through  heat  of  passion, 

Your  president  I  did  offend, 
Pray  tell  me  does  he  reign  supremely  ? 

One  uncondemned  can  he  suspend  ? 

You,  ravenous,  wolf  like,  would  devour 
And  swallow  me  up  heels  and  head, 

If  not  by  a  quick  and  sudden  spring, 
The  victim  of  your  venom  fled. 

Your  nets  my  feet  shall  never  tangle, 
Nor  will  I  tread  your  winding  way, 

Wrongward,  downward,  deep  descending, 
Oh,  vote  him  out  I  heard  you  say. 


walden's  poems,  80 

Whose  thoughts  should  be  both  high  and  lofty, 
With  upturned  eyes  towards  the  sky, 

You  should  not  treat  an  humble  member, 
That  he  might  from  your  colors  fly. 

True  courtesy  among  you  Juniors 
Is  what  I  long  have  sought  to  gain, 

In  spite  of  all  my  humble  efforts, 
My  work  to  me  seems  all  in  vain. 

Therefore,  it  's  best  that  we  should  sever, 

Before  another  rising  sun, 
That  each  may  in  this  fleeting  contest 

Think  that  he  has  the  victory  won. 

I  'd  freely  give  up  my  tuition, 

Or  give  to  you  my  heart  and  hand, 

If  we  could  live  in  union  severed, 
Or  else  within  this  happy  band. 

It  's  hard  to  sever  ties  of  friendship, 
Or  cords  of  love  which  closely  bind, 

Perhaps  from  this  we  '11  take  a  warning, 
May  learn  to  be  both  just  and  kind. 

Therefore,  I  bid  you  happy  Juniors, 
A  mournful,  long  and  last  farewell, 

There  're  other  things  around  us  rising 
Which  I  have  not  the  time  to  tell. 

May  luck  and  friendship  guard  your  future, 
My  prayers  shall  follow  you  till  death, 


9 1$  walden's   poems. 

While  still  my  pulse  continues  beating, 
Or  I  may  beat  a  fleeting  breath. 


THE  HAND  OF  DEATH  INVISIBLE. 

hat  hand  is  this  that  leads  me  on  ? 

Shall  I  refuse  to  go — 
To  my  eternal  destiny, 
Of  happiness  or  woe  ? 

Invisible  it  does  appear, 

Unseen  by  mortal  eye, 
I  cannot  turn  to  right  nor  left, 

Nor  can  I  from  it  fly. 

?Tis  nature's  voice  that  speaks  within, 
That  shakes  this  mortal  frame,   . 

JTis  justice  making  her  demand, 
And  death  presents  her  claim. 

This  hand  will  ever  lead  me  on 
From  childhood  to  the  grave — 

Will  break  the  chain  that  holds  me  fast, 
Emancipate  the  slave. 

Therefore  my  thoughts  should  upward  tend, 
To  realms  of  bliss  above, 
Where  heavenly  hosts  beyond  the  clouds 
Will  greet  my  soul  in  love. 


WALDBN'8     POEMS.  91 


CORRESPONDENT    SOLICITED. 

Howard  University, 
Washington.  D.  C,  April  17,  1873. 
Miss  Virginia  Delaxey  : 

Dear  Miss  :  If  not  mistaken  in  the  person  whom  I  think  you 
are,  which  can  hardly  be  so,  I  would  like  very  much  to  create 
a  correspondence  between  us,  if  it  would  be  in  accordance 
with  your  wishes. 

Please  consider  this  proposal  and  give  me  an  answer  at 
your  pleasure. 

|or  this  my  pen  has  long  displayed, 

E'er  long-  its  been  delighted, 
S  To  know  thou  art  a  fair  young  maid 
Whom  no  one  yet  has  slighted. 

From  year  to  year  it  onward  glides, 

I  glory  in  its  winging; 
It  whispers  through  the  graceful  slides 

Virginia  oft  is  singing. 

Will  it  not  gladden  every  heart, 
Through  rhythm  and  its  measure, 

And  give  the  young  an  upward  start, 
And  thrill  each  nerve  with  pleasure? 

Therefore,  if  thou'll  accept  this  line — 

Think  not  that  I  am  hasty  ; 
For  had  I  now  a  second's  time, 

I  'd  say  that  I  am  tasty. 

Remember  that  I  'm  full  of  pride, 
Of  pity  and  compassion, 


92  walden's  poems. 

And  she  who  lingers  by  my  side 
Should  like  my  style  and  fashion. 

My  pride  will  never  lead  to  shame, 

Nor  down  to  degradation, 
While  it  shall  be  my  highest  aim 

To  elevate  my  nation. 

For  thou  canst  see  the  stars  are  bright, 
And  worlds  around  are  swelling, 

Therefore  it  will  be  thy  delight 
To  overlook  my  spelling. 

Therefore,  unfold  each  fleeting  thought, 

Seek  well  for  the  intention. 
Which  nature's  hand  alone  has  wrought 

In  words  I  need  not  mention. 

Kind  Miss,  to  thee  no  more  I  ?11  say, 

Nor  add  unto  my  measure, 
Except  to  write  without  delay 

When  it  may  be  your  pleasure. 

ISLAY  WALDEN. 


o-o- 


IN  HONOR  OF  DR.  TABOR  JOHNSON. 

MAY    1,    1873. 

'Twas  on  the  first  of  May  of  last  year  in  our  rambles  about 
the  vicinity  of  the  Soldiers'  Home  that  I  indited  "  The  May 
Walk,"  a  small  poem  to  be  found  in  the  preceding  pages  of 
this  volume.  This  year,  on  the  same  day,  I  was  wending  my 
way  in  an  opposite  direction— to  the  Congregational  Church — 
where  my  esteemed  friend,  the  doctor,  was  to  be  married  to 
his  now  lovely  wife.    Whilst  stopping  for  a  moment  to  assist 


walden's   poems.  93 

a  friend  in  moving  some  articles  of  furniture  from  the  pave- 
ment to  his  house,  the  bridal  party  passed  on  their  way  to  the 
Church.  However,  although  I  missed  the  wished  for  oppor- 
tunity to  witness  the  ceremonies,  the  muse  of  poetry  suggested 
thoughts,  as  they  passed  by,  which  I  hope  the  doctor  will  find 
no  fault  in  my  embodying  them  with  my  other  collections. 

Home,  idle  pen,  and  let  us  sing 

To  May,  the  flowery  month  of  spring,  ^ 
And,  too,  with  gladsome  voice,  we  '11  hail 
The  May  queen  with  the  bridal  veil. 

Sweet  month,  one  year  ago  our  roam — 
The  hills  and  vales  'round  Soldiers'  Home — 

Was  bright  with  flowers  and  verdure  green, 
Fit  tributes  to  thy  fairy  queen. 

The  scene  has  changed:  for  you,  kind  friend, 
We  '11  garlands  with  our  poesy  blend, 

And  humbly  at  your  feet  now  lay 
Our  offerings  to  your  Queen  of  May. 

The  happy  bridegroom  and  the  bride 
In  blissful  love  sit  side  by  side, 

Whilst  twit'ring  birds,  with  swelling  throats, 
Are  caroling  their  matin  notes. 

Go,  loved  ones,  meet  the  waiting  group 
Of  anxious  friends,  who  fondly  hope 

That  each  recurring  first  of  May 
May  prove  a  golden  wedding  day. 

0  many,  prosperous  years  be  thine; 

And  may  angelic  hosts  entwine 
A  wreath  for  each,  of  faith  and  love — 

A  fadeless  crown  in  Heaven  above. 


94  WALDBfi's    P0E1IS 


PLACE   THY  TRUST   IN   GOD. 

Howard  University, 
Washington,  D.  C,  April  15,  1872. 
Miss  Catherine  Hill  : 

Dear  Niece  :  I  received  yours  a  few  days'  ago,  and  was  glad 
to  learn  that  you  were  all  well  and  anxious  to  see  me  return 
home  next  Christmas,  which  I  hope  to  be  able  to  do.  I  was 
more  than  gratified  to  know  that  the  letter  which  you  sent  me 
was  written  by  your  own  dear  little  hand.  I  did  not  read  very 
many  lines  before  I  was  lead  to  weep  to  hear  you  say  that  you, 
your  mother  and  your  aunt  had  professed  religion,  and  had 
joined  the  church  at  the  old  "  Quaker  Meeting  House. ,r  Your 
beautiful  letter  carried  me  back  to  the  old  Meeting  House. 
Ah!  I  imagine  that  many  of  the  brethren  who  were  accustomed 
to  meet  there  have  fallen  asleep  and  have  been  long  since 
gathered  to  their  fathers.  I  am  glad  to  know  that  the  children 
are  seeking  their  Saviour,  and  are  thus  preparing  themselves 
to  occupy  the  positions  in  the  church  which  their  parents  must 
spjon  vacate. 

There  is  another  very  striking  passage  in  your  epistle,  in 
which  you  say  that  the  Lord  has  wonderfully  blessed  me  in 
taking  me  from  home  and  placing  me  in  an  institution  of 
learning  where  I  may  be  educated.  I  would  to  the  Lord  that 
there  was  a  school  in  your  neighborhood,  so  that  instead  of 
learning  to  read  and  write  in  the  Sabbath  school  you  could 
learn  more  about  our  blessed  Redeemer.  You  asked  me  if  it 
is  wrong  to  spend  your  time  this  way  on  the  Sabbath.  It  is  a 
question  hard  to  be  answered  by  myself ;  but  if  you  were  in 
Washington  I  suppose  I  would  think  it  wrong,  for  here  wehav® 
both  Sabbath  and  every  day  schools.  But  situated  as  you  are, 
I  think  it  no  harm,  provided  it  does  not  lead  to  anything  more; 
for  it  is  not  so  much  what  one  does,  but  the  motive  which 
prompts  the  act.  You  also  said  you  wish  you  had  such  privi- 
leges as  I  enjoy,  that  you  might  study  and  do  more  good  for 
the  poor  children  in  your  neighborhood  in  the  way  of  teaching 
them.  1  sympathize  with  you  much,  and  were  I  able  you 
should  not  pant  for  learning  any  longer,  but  should  come  event 


P  0  E  M  s  .  95 

here  a-.  ]  c!  ink  from  the  same  well  of  knowledge  out  of  which 
I  draw  d  y.  But  I  can  continue  to  pray  for  you.  I  was  ac- 
custamed  to  pray  that  the  Lord  would  convert  your  soul,  and 
your  mother's  and  Aunt  Lucy  Jane's,  and  you  have  all  been 
converted.  In  a  like  manner  will  He  again  hear  my  prayer, 
and  provide  a  manner  by  which  you  may  be  educated,  if  He 
so  wills  it.  You  well  know  how  I  have  worked  to  enjoy  the 
advantages  of  education,  but  on  account  of  being  near  sighted 
(and  it  was  supposed  I  could  not  study)  I  was  rejected  even 
by  Christian  teachers,  and  particularly  by  one  Christian  insti- 
tution ;  and  when  all  had  forsaken  me  the  Lord  took  me  up 
from  a  state  of  degradation  and  ignorance  and  placed  me  even 
here  through  the  great  Reform  Church  of  America.  But 
first  Dr.  Turner,  who  died  with  one  hand  upon  the  lever 
which  helps  to  move  the  great  educational  machinery  of  this 
country— and  particularly  among  our  race — and  the  other 
setting  forth  truths  of  the  Bible  in  their  purity,  opened  the 
door  of  his  institution  for  me,  and  I  entered  there,  and  would 
have  gone  to  school  there,  but  I  found  it  much  to  my  advan- 
tage to  come  to  Howard  University.  In  conclusion  allow  me 
to  say,  that  I  first  put  my  trust  in  man  because  he  would  talk 
very  pleasantly  to  me,  pat  me  on  the  back,  and  say  in  an  in- 
direct manner,  '-Depart,  and  be  ye  educated;  a  young  man 
like  you  is  worthy  of  an  education."  My  experience  has 
taught  me  this  lesson,  that  it  is  better  to  trust  in  God  than  in 
the  promises  of  mankind,  though  some  men  are  really  instru- 
ments for  good  in  His  hands,  all  along  the  winding  ways  of 
life,  to  point  us  to  a  higher  station  than  that  in  which  we  are 
placed,  even  by  circumstances. 

When  I  was  about  giving  up  all  hopes  of  getting  an  educa- 
tion I  visited  President  Grant, and  after  talking  to  him  awhile 
I  pulled  out  a  copy  of  a  little  poem  which  I  composed,  which 
I  presented  to  him  on  bidding  him  good  bye.  He  gave  me  a 
warm  shake  of  that  heroic  hand  which  so  materially  aided  in 
emancipating  four  millions  of  slaves,  crushing  the  rebellion, 
and  is  now  so  successfully  binding  the  heart  of  every  Ameri- 
can to  hh  country's  cause,  and  said,  "  Never  pause  until  you 
become  educated. "'  Such  words,  coming  from  such  a  source, 
to  an  uncultivated  mind,  indeed  left  impressions  that  time  only 
can  efface.  But  after  all  I  found  it  was  better  to  trust  in  God 
and  my  elf,  for  there  are  things  which  man  cannot  help  us  to 
do,  neitLur  can  we  ask  him. 


96  walden's  pqems, 

I  have  written  a  long  letter  to  you  that  I  might  tell  you  of 
a  Friend  to  whom  you  can  make  all  your  necessities  known ; 
for  you  will  find  that  there  are  very  dark  times  in  life,  and 
what  I  have  said  is  true ;  and  when  you  shall  have  experi- 
enced the  truthfulness  of  it  you  will  exclaim — 

|e  truly  need  a  friend  below, 
*  Who  may  our  wants  and  troubles  know  ; 
SB!  There  7re  always  times  when  sorrows  press: 
How  dear  a  friend  amid  distress. 

The  Lord  to  us  a  friend  will  be, 
Even  to  all  eternity, 
If  we  within  his  love  confide, 
And  haven  near  his  bleeding  side. 

What  peace,  what  joy  and  delight, 
How  angels  guard  my  soul  by  night, 
How  happy  must  my  station  be 
When  Christ  the  Lord  remembers  me. 

This  life  within  its  brightest  ray, 
An  emblem  of  an  endless  day  ; 
Should  I  not  count  each  moment  dross, 
When  I  behold  my  Saviour's  cross? 

Then  help  me,  Lord,  my  cross  to  take; 
And  all  my  sinful  ways  forsake. 
That  when  I  shall  be  called  to  die, 
On  wings  of  love  to  thee  I  '11  fly. 

I  remain  your  affectionate  uncle, 

ISLAY  WALDEN.