Class _^^.M1Z_ Book- //^^(^iT CoRyiiglitN". -^ COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr PRISCILLA JANE THOMPSON GLEANINGS OF QUIET HOURS, ftV Priscilla Jane Thompson. AUTHOR or "Lthiope Lays.- Published and Sold by The Author. RossMOYNE Ohio. Copyrighted, 1907, by Priscilla Jane Thompson, kibfiARY of OOwaRE^S, s wo Copies rtetOii-o- CONTENTS. PAGE, Athelstane 1 A Prayer 9 Adieu, Adieu, Forever. - . , 12 A Home Greeting 22 A Christmas Ghost. .... 30 A Valentine. . - . . . 33 A Tribute to the Bride and Gruom. . 34 An Afternoon Gossip. . . . 39 Adown the Heights of Ages . . 69 After the Quarrel. . , . , 72 A domestic Storm 81 A little Wren 83 Address to Ethiopia 86 Autumn . dS A kindly Deed. . ,••• \, . .96 Death and Resurrection ♦.'!' . . 10 Emancipation. , . . . . . 35 Freedom at Mc Nealy's. ... 65 In the Valley 84 Insulted 7S 1' r CONTENTS. PAGE, Just how it Happened. . , , ,7 Lines to an old Schoolhouse. . , 2y Lines to Emma. ... . 90 Oh whence comes the Gladness. , 94 Rapael. . . . . .77 Song of the Moon. , , •74 Soft black Eyes. - • • 77 The Snow-flakes. ... 2 The Fugitive. . . . ,3 The Husband's return. . . 13 The Examination. , . , 2S To a deceased Friend. . , ,37 The Muse's favor, . . . 4S The favorite Slave's story, . , 49 The interrupted Reproof. , . 63 The old Freedman. . . , g7 The old Year. . . . 100 Uncle Ike's Holiday. . . 20 Uucle Jimmie's Yarn. . . 91 While the Choir sang. . , 17 INTRODUCTION. In presenting this little volume uf poems to the public, (mostly of which are closely associated with a proscribed race,) the writer's sole and earnest endeavor, is to Hring to light their real life and character; and if in any of these humble and simple rhymes, a passage or thought may chance prove a medium, through which the race may be elevate 1, or benefited, if only in the prt- vate mind of some reader, the writer feels, that her efforts is fully repaid. THE AUTHORESS. DEDICATED TO My Sister and Brothers, GLEANINGS OF QUIET IIOUKS. <3l6ar)ir)gs Of Qalet fio^rs, ATHELSTANE. H, ATHELSTANE, the faithful! Why linger at my gate? Is not thy hopes yet blasted? I for another wait. © Now hie thee, to yon forest; 'Tis Clare bids thee depart; Nay, bow thee not in sorrow, To break my bleeding heart! **Oh Clare, why wed another? Thou canst but give thy hand, Thy heart is in my keeping, Were I in foreign land." **Why tarry here, in bondage, When freedom is so nigh? My steed waits in yon forest, And champs his bit to fly." **Far from thy cruel uncle, Thy pining heart shall rest, In peaceful bliss of Eden, Upon thy lover's breast. " -1- (31e8r)ir)gs Of QCiiei fioars. "Oh, Athelstane, the faithful! My heart is thine alone; No more I'll brook their babble, I'll fly with thee, mine own." THE SNOW-FLAKES. ] — \OVVN, DOWN, in millions, blending, Jet/ 'phg snow-flakes gambol fast; With eddies gay, descending, Hurled by the winter's blast. Down, down, in millions, blending. The shower seems never ending. While a white spread is extending, From the countless flakes, amassed. Down, down, in millions blending. The snow flakes gambol fast; Each little drop is wending, To a resting place at last. Down, down, in millions, blending, Our God the flakes are sending. And a lesson is impending, Which blind man fails to grasp. -2- QleBr)ir)gs Of QCiiet fioCirs^ Down, down, in millions, blending. The snow-flakes jj^ambol fast; In mysti<: shapes, portending, God's wisdom ofreat and vast. Down, down, in millions, blending, While scholars are contending, And the sage his wits is bending Unexplained, they drift and pass. THE FUGITIVE. WITH BLEEDING back, from tyrant's lash, A fleet-foot slave has sped, All frantic, past his humble hut. And seeks the wood instead. Once in the woods, his manhood wakes- Why stand this bondage, wroth? With diabolic, reckless heart. He turns he, to the North, He flings his crude hat to the ground, And face the northern wind ; Fleet in his tracks, the blood-hounds bay, He leaves them far behind. (3Ie5i}ii>gs Of QCxiet Iio6rs, By devious way, cross many a stream, He fiercely pressed that day, With deadly oaths for brush or brake, That chance to block his way. Erelong, when kind and soothing night, Had hushed the strife of man, He wades waist-deep, unto a tree, To rest awhile and plan. He knows no friends or shelter, kind, To soothe his deadly grief. He only knows, that farther north, A slave may find relief. No lore of book, or college craft. Lends cunning to his plan. Fresh from the tyrant's blasting touch. He stands a crude, rough, man. But Providence, with pity, deep, Looked down upon that slave. And mapped a path, up through the South, And strength and courage gave. Glesr);r)gs Of Qaiet fioars^ Sometimes, a friendly fellow-slave, Chance, spying where he hi^, At night would bring his coarse, rough, fare, And God speed v/armly bid. And sometimes, when to hunger fierce, HeM seem almost to yield, A bird would fall into his clutch, A fish would shake his reel. And when on reaching colder climes, A sheep-cote shelter made, Or, law-abiding Yankee, stern. Clandestinely, lent aid. Till after many a restless day, And weary, toiling, night. All foot-sore, worn, and tired of limb, His haven looms in sight. His tired feet press Canadian shore. Friends tell him he is free; He feels a craving still, to hide. It seems it cannot bSo . -5- Ql6ar)ir)9s Of QCxiet Po6rs, But from suspense and thralldom freed, His manhood wakes at last, And plies he hand and brain with might, To mend his ruthless past. And Providence, in years that came, Sent blessings rife, his way, With grateful heart he journeyed through, His free, allotted days. Qle^rjiYjgs Of Qdiet Poars, JUST HOW IT HAPPENED. ELL, I was at the dresser, A-prinking at my hair, When mamma bustled in, and said, "Luvenia, Joe's down-stair." w Of course I was all ready, But say girls, don't you know? Just not to seem too anxious, I poked, and came down slow. Well, girls! I felt so funny. When I came to the door; For Joe had on a sober look, I'd never seen before. But soon he was all smiling, And I felt quite at ease; Then girls, he caught and gave my hand, The cutest little squeeze. I sat down on the sofa, And Joe, — he sat so near; That sober look came back again, And girls! I did feel queer. <3l6ar)ir)gs Of QQiet flo6rs, J said, "You look so sober;" (For girls, that's not his way;) And then he laughed so odd, and said He'd felt blue, all that day. I said, "What is the matter?" Says he, "My heart aches so!" Well girls! I was so got at that, I only said, "Oh Joe!" He slipped his arms around me, I understood, you see, Now girls, what are you giggling 'bout? You'd kissed him too, like me! -8- Glegrjirj^s Of QCiiet |ioCirs, A PRAYER. H, LORD! I lift my heart. In gratitude, to Thee, For blessings, manifold. Thou hast bestowed on me. © When conflicts raged within, Too blinding to express, Thou pitied my still tongue, And soothed my heart to rest. Keep me within thy care; Compel me, to the right; 'Tis sweet to walk with Thee, In darkness or in light. ^9- (3Iear)ir)gs Of QCiiet fio6rs, DEATH AND RESURRECTION. THE PRIESTS, the elders, and the scribes, From council had adjourned; And Pilate's proffered sacrifice, 1 he mob had promptly spurned. And up Golgotha's risinor slope, A boist'ous, cruel, band. With taunts, and jeers, and foul rebuke, Leads forth the Son of Man. Oh, what a scene for human eyes! Our Savior, bowed in grief; And tortured by the very ones, To whom He brings relief. Close at His side, a swarthy man. Beneath His cross doth bow; Oh Simon! Ne'er did mortal bend. To nobler task than thou. And, on the brow of Calvary, With scoffing, and with scorn. They nailed our Saviour to the cross, With diadem of thorn. ■10- Gleor)ir)gs Of QCxiet fio6rs. 'Tis done, and Joseph now has laid His body in the tomb; And none except the guards keep watch, Amid the somber gloom. But what can bar our holy Lord, Or cross his wondrous plan? The stronghold 'bout His lonely tomb. Shows unbelief of man. When, to the tomb, the women came, In grief, at break of day, An angel, 'mid an earthquake, vast, Had rolled the stone away. No power within this great domain, Can stay our mighty King; Oh grave, where is thy victory, Oh death, where is thy sting! Despite the grave, despite the bar, In triumph He hath flown. And sitteth on the Right of God, Joint-ruler of His own. -11- GIear)ir)gs Of QCilet Po6rs. A. ADIEU, ADIEU, FOREVER. DIEU, YOU haughty maiden! Proud Lydia, adieu; I will not tarry longer at your side; My heart now heavy-laden, With sorrows made by you, Never more shall thrall me or satiate your pride; Adieu, adieu, forever. Adieu, you dusky maiden, You crafty prude, adieu! No more the sport of narrow mind I'll be; Ne'er shall my heart awaken. To love strains, played by you, I spurn you from my heart, for a maid of small degree; Adieu, adieu, forever. Adieu, you heartless trifle! To dally with my love, When I humbly laid my whole heart, at your feet ; My very soul you'd riflle. Your vain heart you did prove; Henceforth, for nobler maidens, this outraged heart will seek, Adieu, adieu, forever. ■12- Gl6ar)ir)gs Of QCiiet floars, T THE HUSBAND'S RETURN. HE PROUD, majestic Southern sun, Let fall a golden gleam; It flickered through a leafy bower, And fell aslant a traveler's brow, And roused him from his dream. A finer specimen of man, Was never cast in clay; A swarthy Hercules was he. With that rash intrepidity, Of manhood's earliest day. He, an emancipated slave. From Rappahanock's side; Assured by Lincoln's strong decree. Had journeyed southward, bold and free, To claim his stolen bride. From many a camp of Union men. He'd found his rations free; And by their kindly guiding hand. He now locates the plundered land. Where his young wife must be. A three hours' tramp 'cross rugged hills, Footsore, yet full of life; Now brings him to the handsome gate, Where flowers, bedeck a mansion great, The prison of his wife. -13- (3Iear)ir}gs Of Qalei fio6rs. And as he boldly seeks the porch, On entering ihrough the gate, The master, from his wicker chair, With grim forebodings, wildly glare, As he his errand wait. Advancing nearer, now at hand. He recognize the face, The same firm mouth, the flashing eye, The trouble wrought in days gone by, Comes back with no good grace. "Well Steve, you scoundrel, what's to pay?' He said, with rising fear; "You've run away, that is a fact, rU have you flogged, and shipped right right back. What do you want back here?" Young Stephen, to keep down his wrath, His strongest will employ; He simply says, "All slaves are free, The news is heard where e'er I be; I want my wife and boy." A white rage lights the planter's face, His oaths are fierce and wild; He calls on demons from below. To take him if a will he'd show. To yield the wife and child. -14- (3[ear)ii}gs Of QCilet flo6rs, The rash young: freed man with one boiintl, Had seized liis deadl}' foe, But Providence sent "second tliought," Before the murderous deed was wrought, He loosed his hold to go. There played about that swarthy youth, As he strode down the path, A threat'ning- storm from rights bereft. That stayed the planter's gasping breath, And took away his wrath. "Stop, Steve! where are you going now?" He cried with deadly fear; *'Come, boy, now let me hear your plan, Come, let us talk as man to man! Your wife is happy here." Young Stephen flung an answer back, With tury in his eye, That suddenly did take his breath, And paled his face, as if gfrim death Had dropped down from the sky. *'rm a-goin' to the barracks, An' fetch the 'blue-coats" here; I swear this day Fll claim my wife, Or you will pay it with your life, Long 'fore the night appear." -15- Qlear)ir)gs Of QCxiet fioQps, Swift to the dairy house hard by, A summon speeds the while; A slender girl, with, sweet, dark eyes, Comes quickly forth in glad surprise, Dangling a heavy child. Young Stephen's wrath is all forgot, As with a cry of joy. With kisses sweet and sighs of love, The bright sun smiling from above, He clasps his wife and boy. And, as he strained them to his breast, Where tumult late held sway, A peace suffused his storm tossed heart, That bade all gloomy moods depart, And lit with joy his way. -16- T <3[eai9li}gs Of Qaiel {-Io6rs. WHILE THE CHOIR SANG. HE THREAT'NING clouds of yesternight, Have sought the western rim ; The peaceful Easter sun, beams forth *'Glad tidings to all men." The festooned church is fillins^ fast; The frivolous, the gay, The saint, the sinner, mingfie free, On tliis triumpliant day. Around the altar decked with flowers, Each old saint takes his seat; The organ swells, the choir breaks forth. In cadence full and sweet. But there, amongst the aged saint, About the altar rail, A vacant seat, an absent face, Bespeaks the same sad tale. Within a humble, upper room, Across the street, near by, All weak and worn, and racked with pain, A faithful soldier lies. ■17- Gl6ar)ir)gs Of QCiiet fioQrs, He's felt the galling slav'ry's yoke, In days now long since, fled; He's groaned in destitution, sore, And felt the need of bread. But through it all, with child-likefaith, \ He's looked up to his God ; And though the billows loudly roared, lie came across, dry-shod. And now, the crucial test is come, For Jordan's bank is near; He's trusted God at smaller streams. Canst he not trust Him here? The choir bursts forth in classic strains, The notes unto him ring; Though he's not trained in classic lore. He knows they praise his King. His soul hath caught the holy spell; Who could doubt such a King? His fav'rite hymn is on his lips; He launches, as he sings: — Gleanirjgs Of QCiiet fio6rs, ■^ 'Steal away, steal away, stea! away to Jesus Steal away, steal away home, I aint got long to stay h^re.*^ He feels his old wife's lingering clasp^ He faintly hears her moan, For Jordan's waves break on his ear. And drifts him toward his home. The choir^ in rich crescendo strains. In inal triumph, chord; They little dreamed, 'twere theirs to launch. An old saint to his Lord. -19- Gle6r)ir)gs Of QQiet fioCjrs, UNCLE IKE'S HOLIDAY. ^^\C^ELL UNCLE IKE! This beats me; V V I don't know what to say: Last night I took it for a joke, When of that odd project you spoke, To celebrate today." "I didn't take you for the man, Kind as I've been to you, To leave me in this busy time, Tomatoes, spoiling on my vines, To loaf a whole day through." I've corn now parching in the field; Potatoes yet to dig. Yet you can walk off in this way. And leave me in "a hole" all day, Nor do you give a fig." You colored folks, are cranks for sure; Here in this busy week, To stop a good job, just for fun. And sport around from sun to sun, — " "Stop right dah! Let me speak!" "Dis day is 'Mancipation, De day when God, who reigns, Wid Lincum fah his instrument, De very jaws ob Sof did rent. To bust de slav'ry's chains. -20- (3Iear)ir)gs Of QCiiei floors. ' 'An' now, wid umble gratwatude, I's promised him fah one, To set aside one day each year. An* meet my people wid ^ood cheer, An* 'joice at whut He's done." "You say, I'se stopped in busy times, I answer in reply, De *high hoss', dat I'm on today, You sot astride, dis very way, Jest back here, in July. *'Yo' June grass lay cut in de field, De wetter looked like rain. An' yet you sent me right back borne, An' to yo' surrey hitched yo' roan. An' driv off jest de same." *'An' mind you, when I spoke to you, 'Bout wastein' sich a day, *'Faw Jesus Christ I would not work, Doe tahment claime I me fah a shirk," Dem aw de words you say." "I won't say dat, I'll wuk fah God, But, mind you dis is true. Mo* serious time will hab to come, An' mighty heavy ,arg'ing done, Befo* I'd wuk fah you." -21- Gl€8r)ir)JJs Of QCiiet fioQrs, I s'pose you know whut brung^ me 'round, I want dat 'change', you kno w ; I call it wrongf to stingy be, Upon de day when we are free ; Tank you sah ; I mutit go." A HOME GREETING. PAIR of soft, black eyes, A velvet, dusky , cheek, A flash of dazzling pearls, An Eden for me speak. A And next a soft embrace; My eyes drink to their fill, The tender, liquid, depth. Of orbs that ever thrill. A long, ecstatic, kiss, That drowns all earthly strife What gift can e'er exceed, A pure, confiding, wife? -22- QlesniT^gs Of QCiiei fio6rs. LINES TO AN OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. DEAR SCHOOL of my childhood, thrice dear doth thou seem, Now that thou shalt soon be no more; Oh, fresh in my memory, sweet visions gleam, Reflecting the bright days of yore. Those days when we played with our faces abeam, And manhood and womanhood, seemed but a dream. Thy grove, cool and shady, with maples o'er grown, Has sheltered us all, in the past; We've romped 'neath thy shadows, while bright years have flown, Too sweet and too pleasant to last. Dear school of my childhood, with pain in my heart, I yield to grim progress, and see thee depart. And all of our teachers: how bright in our mind, We recall every one, as they came; Each, like a wise monarch, unselfish and kind, Did make our advancement, their aim. Think not that the scholar, ne'er valued thy care; Thy teachings sank deeper than thou wert aware. -23- <31ear)Ir)gs Of Qdiet fioars, Thy dear grove has sheltered, when life seemed a care, And trials have clouded our way. And oft the young lover, and sweet maiden fair, Have wooed here, where once they did play. Oh, fresh in our memories e'er wilt thou be, Since the skein of our childhood is woven with thee! Dear 'Amity,' emblem of friendship's pure gold, We shall not bemoan thee, as past; E'en now, like that fabulous phoenix of old, F>om thy ashes, a new school looms, vast. More comely in structure, we view it near by. And hail thy successor, with pride in our eye. We dread not the future, oh 'Amity,' n-^w. What else canst thou do, but succeed; Thy ancestor's mantle has fallen to you, And wc know thou'lt supply ev'ry need. May thy present scholars, and those to enroll. Inscribe a good record, upon thy fair scroll. -24- Qleoilings Of QCiiei fIo6rs. THE EXAMINATION. [OOK here, Petah! whut's dis here, -5^ Dat I heard at sistah Brooks, 'Bout you fallin' back dis year. In most all uv yo' school books?" "You think me an' pa'll work, Keep a lazy scamp in school, Jest to play, an' prink, an' shirk? Ef you do, you ah a fool." "Oh ma, Mrs, Brooks don't know, What I do at school each day!" *''Twan't her dat tole me so, I aint 'peatin' vvhut she say.'* "But I heard it, right enough, An' I'm b'lievin' uv it, too: Now, I woont Stan' no sich stuff! So you know whut you kin do." ''I'm not lagging in my books! 'Less it be my algebra: They told stories down to Brooks — " "I'm a-b'lievin' whut dey say." -25- Ql6ai}ings Of Qaiet floars. **Fetch dem books fum dat machine. An' my specks, fum off dat she'f^ I'll find out vvhut all dis mean, Gwine to test you fah myse'f. **Look at me^ an' look at pa! Nevah spent one day in school; Brung up undah slavery's law; White folks used us fah a tool." **But jest soon as freedom come, Me an' pa made up our minds» To take lessons fum Miss Crum^ An^ she said we jest did fine.'* "We wuked days,, and studied nights* Pa right here can tell de same,, How de lessons we would fight, See who'd git the biggest uame. "Doe pa now won'^t have it sOj, 'Tis de fac^ jes^ ax Miss Jane: I wus fust, — • whether or no, Kase I had de strongest brain/^ 16- GIear)ir)gs Of QCxiei |^o6rs. **Sakes o' life, ma! how you *b!ovv/ Kase I once misspelled 'employ,' Look here Cindy, don't you knov*'? — ' *'Oh, heshllel me test dis boy." **VVhul's dis book you's gibbin' me? 'Spose I keer for allerbay? A, b, c, and x, y, z; Here, boy, put dis book away!" **Learned my letters lonsf ago, And I thought you did de same; Dese new schools beat all I know! Don't know you or dem to blame." *'Bring dat spellin' book to me! You don't use dat book no mo*? *Spcc you ought now, we will see; Take yo' place tha' by de do.'" "Now Pete spell me 'domineer; Right; now spell me 'gasoline;' Dey's *too easy' do I hear? Never mind, now spell 'machine!" -27- Gle3r)ings Of Qdiei fio6r3, 'Mancipate',(set free, to fly;) Once I craved dat soon an' late: *M-a-n — c-i si man — ci, P-a-t-e, 'Man-ci pate'. '*E' cums fus instid uv 'M', Dis here spellin' will not do!'' "Dat's de way you spoke it to'im, Dat boy's jest as right as you.'* "Pa, I wush you'd shet yo' mouf, An' quit takin' on, so mean, Now den, Petah, spell me Souf; Right, — now spell fah 'me, 'ravene' " *'VVrong! I knowed you'd miss a sight; Dat new's straight, I got at Brooks; *'Ma, I know I spelt that right!" "Aint I lookin' on de book?" *'Like as not, de boy is right, Cindy, let me see dat word ; Dat word's 'raven' — Sakes o' life! Kyah! kyah ! kyah! you is a bird.'* -28- Gle^YjlrjQs Of Qaiet [io6rs, *'Oh shet up! an' act wid sense! Ain't gwine test Pete any mo'; You k no wed whetg I fus' commence, Dat my eyes wus dim an' 50/* *'Dat's why I bought dem j^old specks, Dat you made de man take back; You wont ha-ve me kere to vea:, Always., wid yo' spite an' slack.." "'B'lieve Lucindy^s gwine to cry; Kyah! kyali! kyah ! she is a birdi Makin' out she^s gwine to die, 'Case sh-e Fsaispernounced dat word.* -29- Qlear)ir)gs Of Qaiet tioQrs. T A CHRISTMAS GHOST. HE EVE of Christmas had arrived ; The children were in bed, The clock upon the mantel, chimed The half-hours as they fled. Aunt Lucy tip-toed 'bout her work; For work she had to do; I've never seen a Christmas eve Bring aught but work, — have you? And so Aunt Lucy tip-toed 'bout, With heart expectant, light, *'Twould be a shame to wake the babes, With Santa mos' in sight." But all at once Aunt Lucy stopped ; "Laws! Whut's dat thumpin' noise?" She had good reason to believe, It wasn't Santa Claus. And yet, five minutes back, had she Not seen on pillows white, Four little cherubs, wrapped in sleep, Most pleasing to the sight? -30- GIeQi}Ir7gs Of Qdiet fIo6rs, With bus}'' hands and lieavy step, Aunt Lucy fairly flew; Admitting that they were awake. She had her work to do. Next, calls she stern, behind closed door, (Too busy to pass through,) "'Now, whut's dat thumpin' sound I hear? Paul Peters, is dat you?" "'Phil, Joe, an' Babe, I know is sleep. An' you, too, ought to be, Ef you don't git back in dat bed, I'll lay you 'cross my knee!" *'But mamma, Santa Clans is corae! I seed him pattin' Ring, He's come an' fetched his wife along, — " "He aint cum, no sich thing!'' "^'But ma, he had a dreat big sack, They did'nt make no noise. An' when he set it down, to rest, He kissed Miss Santa Glaus,'' -31' (3l68r)ir)gs Of Qalet floars. "You hesh yo^ mouf, an' git to bed I Don't b'lieve a word you say; Fah none has come into this house, But Sis an' mister Clay." *'Nobody axed you whut you seed, All bad boys see a sight; You git in bed, or you will see, A whoopin' 'fore 'tis light. So guilty Paul crept back to bed, Most miserable of boys, For fear she'd tell old Santa Claus, And forfeit him his toys. Yet mamma never "peached" on him^ For Santa brought a host; And so he solved the myst'ry thus: He merely saw a ghost. -32- Ql6ar)ir)gs Of QCxiet floars, © A VALENTINE. UT of the depths of a heart of love. Out of the birth-place of sighs, Freighted with hope and freighted with fear, My all in a valentine, hies. Oh, frail little missive Of delicate texture, Speed thee, on thy journey, And give her a lecture! Fathom her heart, that seems to me, cold, Trouble her bosom, as mine, Let it be mutual, this that I crave, Her 'yes' for a valentine. Oh, frail little missive. In coy Cupid's keeping^, Oh ! speed back a message. To set my pulse leaping. -33- GIear)ir)3s Of QCxiet fio6rs, A TRIBUTE TO THE BRIDE AND GROOM. DEAR friends, we are gathered together, With innocent hearts, that are light; Each face is abeam, and meet doth it seem, As there is a wedding tonight. A wedding! with love and peace in full bloom; And a sweet, comely, bride and an exquisite groom. Dear friends, we are gathered together. And happiness leads us tonight; We follow her star, with nothing to mar. Through the sweet, dreamy whirl of delight; And we (eel our hearts throb and swell for the room. To encompass our hopes, for the sweet bride and groom. May this night's love and contentment, For the happy pair, prove to be, A nucleus e'er, to enlarge with each year, As their barque drifts out, in life's sea: And we wish them many returns of the day, With peace, love, and happiness, as only friends may. Should sorrows e'er darken their pathway, As oft in our lives, sorrows will, May they turn to the One, to whom millions have come, -34- Gle9r)ir)gs Of Qaiet floars. And each heard Hi? sweet words, *'Be still." And may His blest Presence, forever find room, In the pure, sweet, abode of the bride and the groom. •T EMANCIPATION. IS a time for much rejoicing; Let each heart be lured away; Let each tone^ue, its thanks be voicing For Emancipation Day. Day of victory, day of glory, For thee, many a field was gory! Many a time in days now ended, Hath our fathers' courage failed, Patiently their tears tbev blended; Ne'er they to their, Maker, railed; Well we know their groans, He numbered, When dominions fell, asundered. As of old the Red Sea parted, And oppressed passed safely through, Back from North, the bold South, started, And a fissure wide she drew; Drew a cleft of Liberty, Through it, marched our people free. -35- Gleanii^Ss Of QCilet fioCirs. And, in memory, ever grateful, Of the day they reached the shore, Meet we now, with hearts e'er faithful, Joyous that the storm is o'er. Storm of Torture! May grim Past, Hurl thee down his torrents fast. Bring your harpers, bring your sages, Bid each one the story tell; Waft it on to future ages. Bid descendants learn it well. Kept it bright in minds now tender, Teach the young their thanks to render. Come with hearts all firm united, In the union of a race; With your loyalty well plighted, Look your brother in the face. Stand by him, forsake him never, God is wHh us now, forever. -36- Glear)ir)gs Of QCxiei {iodrs. TO A DECEASED FRIEND. WRITTEN IN MEMORY OF MR?. POLLY DIXON. THE veil of death hath fallen, Loved one 'twixt thee and me; Thou art now among the chosen of the Lord; With heavenly saints immortal, Enrobed in sanctity, Thou art chanting with the blest, in sweet accord. Oh, ever bright thy image, Is pictured in my heart. Though autumn after autumn now hath flown; Bat memories still steal o'er me, In which thou hast a part, And I sometimes yearn to rob Death of his own. Well didst thou keep the promise. My dying mother craved: That thou shouldst ever guard her orphan brood; Oh, blessed foster-mother! Thy tenderest love, thou gav'st; And thou ever taught me lessons, pure and good. -37- Gl65r)ir)gs Of QCiiet Jio6rs. Oh Death! why rob so early? Why snatched thou her, from me, When I, in wane of childhood, cr.ived her most? If longer thou hadst spared her, I could uniyrude:ingly, Permitted her, to be unto me lost. Oh, many times in blindness, Have I stumbled ms I tread, The rugged old road, which to me is new; And I miss thy warm hand's pressure, And I grieve that thou art dead; While sad, regretful, tears, mine eyes bedew. But sleep, beloved mother, Why shouldst I grudge thy rest? For thou indeed, hast done the 'better part;' A mother to the orphan, Of wives the true and best, My inmost self, can yield thee, with glad heart. -"38- <3lG3r)ings Of QCxiet tioQrs. AN AFTERNOON GOSSIP. IS that you sistah Harris? I knowed you when you knocked; Jest keep right on a-pushing. The ole dooi isn't locked! Ole white man's been forgetting, Each day since first I sent; Fle's got a pow'ful mem'ry. When comes the time for rent. Now, sit down;Whut's your hurry? You have no work to do; I'm mos' done pvith my i'ning; You always beats me through. You aint no bother to me! Jest sit here where its cool; Hush fretting 'bout them child'en ! You know they^re safe in school Now, whut's the news, Amanda? Hearn some 'bout Flora Ann; Jest take this little rocker, And reach that pa'm leaf fan. -39- Gl€ar)ir)gs Of Qaiet fioCirs, I hearn she's gone and married, That trifling Louis Bird; Says I to Abe this mo'nin', Don't brieve a single word. Hush woman ! Whut's you savin'? How can tliat news be true? Flo Ann wus sot on Jasper, She never keered for Lou. Well people! Don't that beat you? Gone married Lou fo' spite; The Lo'd have mussy on her! She's trapped herse'f for life. Guess what ole Jeems been doin'? Can't guess to save my life; Aint took a crazy notion, To git another wife? Fo' land-sakes! sister Harris, Ha! ha! ha! aint I beat? That man's jest buyin' hosses Fo' crows an' dogs to eat. -40- QlGar)ir)gs Of QQiet Ii[o6rs. Now, you know well as I do, He loses ev'ry one: They're lialf dead when he gets tliem ; I 'spect he thinks it's fun. 'Twus jest a week last Tuesday; Abe made me break my side, Telling how the marshal fined him. For half bur'ing one that died. I beam 'bout Sister Curtley? Why Sistah Harris, no! Fell down and broke her ankle? Good Lo'd ! You don't say so? Fell down them ole back do' steps! She told me they wus broke; Ole Smith put off the fixing: I'd make that white man smoke! I must git round and see her; Hope God will bring her through; We must pray for her, Mandy, And see whut we can do. 41- Qle^V^rjQs Of QCiiet fioCirs, Wc must not shirk our duty, And linger in the hirch, But help, in tribulations, A sistah in thie church. You say you're feeling poorly? Then course you couldn't go; Yes, Sistah Riley told me, That you wus feeling slow. Now hush your 'pologizing! I know your heart is true; Whut sistah did more shouting, Last 'vival time than you? You wa'n't out to meeting, When they 'churched' Riah Brown? You'd broke your sides a-laughing, How Elder called him down. The Elder riz and asked him, To take a seat in front; So, up the aisle he shuffled, And sot down, with a grunt. Then, spoke up Elder Mitchell, "Now, whut have you to say? You know the charge against you, For the evil of your way. 42- GIegir)ir)gs Of QCxiei fioQrs, **You've walked the way of sinnahs, Used church funds for your j?ain, And when 'cused by Deacon Riley, Took the name of God, in vain." Ef evah in your lifetime, You've seen a good whooped hound, With head and tail a-draggin^j^, You th«in saw Riah Brown. *'And therefore," said the elder. His voice wus loud and stout; *'We want no wolves among us; I move to turn you out." Poor sistah Brown wus crying, Riah wus sniffling too; Yet seemed no sad occasion, Jest spite of all I'd do. I know 'twa'n't like no christain, The feeling that I had, For ev'ry where around me, The sistahs looked so sad. But 'pon my word, Amanda, Since my eyes first saw light; I never felt more tickled. Than I did Tuesday night. -43- QIear)ir)9s Of QCiiet J1o6rs. Then Riah says a sniffin', "I did do whut you say, But bred'ren 'twas ole Satan, That coaxed me from the way.' You could a hearn a pin drop, When he commenced to say, — "I'm but a umble critter; — " Laws, listen! Is that May?" Laws, honey! here's the child'en, School caint be out so soon; Ef ever time went flyin'. It did this afternoon. That's right, I didn't finish, Well, I wus most nigh through^ You'll hear the rest tomorrow? I dont keer ef you do. All right, tomorrow, Mandy, I'm mighty gled you come; Now, don't fret 'bout tliem child'en. You'll find them safe at home. And say, oh Sistah Harris! Tomorrow, when you come, Please tell old Mr. Bailey, To send Abe's hatchet home. 44- Qle9r)ings Of QCiiei I1o6rs, THE MUSE'S FAVOR. H MUSE! I crave a favor, Grant but this one unto me; Thou hast always been indulgent, So I boldly come to thee. © For oft I list thy singing, And the accents, sweet and clear, Like the rhythmic flow of waters, Falls on my ecstatic ear. But of Caucasia's daughters, So oft I've heard thy lay, That the music, too familiar, Falls in sheer monotony. And now, oh Muse exalted ! Exchange this old song staid, For an equally deserving: — The oft slighted, Afric maid. The muse, with smiles, consenting, Runs her hand the strings along, And the harp, as bound by duty. Rings out with the tardy song. -45- Gle^nii^gs Of QQiet Jio6rs. The Song. Oh, foully slighted Ethiope maid! With patience, bearing rude upbraid. With sweet, refined, retiring, grace. And sunshine lingering in thy face, With eyes bedewed and pityingly, I sing of thee, I sing of thee. Thy dark and misty curly hair, In small, neat, braids entwineth fair. Like clusters of rich, shining, jet, All wrapt in mist, when sun is set; Fair maid, I gaze admiringly, And sing of thee, and sing of thee„ Thy smooth and silky, dusky skin. Thine eyes of sloe, thy dimple chin^ That pure and simple heart of thine^ *Tis these that make thee half divine; Oh maid f I gaze admiringly. And sing of thee, and sing of thee 46- Glegninfls Of QCiist PoQrs, Oh modest maid, with beauty rare. Whoe'er hath praised thy lithe form, fair? Thy tender mien, thy fairy tread, Thy winsome face and queenly head? Naught of thy due in verse I see, All pityingly I sing of thee. Who's dared to laud thee 'fore the world, And face the stigma of a churl? Or brook the fiery, deep, disdain, Their portion, who defend thy name? Oh maiden, wronged so cowardly, I boldly, loudly, sing of thee. Who've stood the test of chastity. Through slavery's blasting tyranny. And kept the while, their virtuous grace, To instill in a trampled race? Fair maid, thy equal few may see; Thrice honored I, to sing of thee. -47- (3l6ar)ir)gs Of QCiiei floQrs, Let cowards fear thy name to praise, Let scoffers seek thee but to raze; Despite their foul, ignoble, jeers, A worthy model thou appear. Enrobed in love and purity; Oh, who dare blush, to sing of thee? And now, oh maid, forgive I pray, The tardiness of my poor lay; The weight of wrongs unto thee done, Did paralize My faltering tongue; »Twas my mute, innate, sympathy, That staid this song, I sing of thee. -48- QIe5nir)gs Of QCiiet fioCirs, THE FAVORITE SLAVE'S STORY. ELL, son de story of my life, Is long, and full of shade; And yet, the bright spots, here and tha, A heap of comforts made. \t When fust my eyes beheld de light, 'Twas on a Chris'mus day; 'Twelve miles fum Richmond "on a fa'm,** As you young upsta'ts say. We said * 'plantation" in de South, We black, and white folks too; We wa'n't a changin' ev'ry day, Like all you young folks do. My mother cooked de white-folks grub, Dat's all she had to do, Ole Miss, she spike her half to death, And spilte her young ones, too. Fah, well I mind me, in dem days, How I and Sue and Pete, Would roll around Miss Nancy's cheer, And play about her feet. -49- G learnings Of QCiiet Po6rs, Miss Nancy, ^ I kin hear her yet — 'You Petah, Sue, an' Si! I'll make yo' niaustah wiioop you slio!" (VVid laughtah in her eye.) Ole mause, he'd whoop us soon as not; But, when ^1i^s Nancy stw, She'd run out, wid dat U)()k, an' say, 'I wouldn't whoop him, Pa.' One day, — I nevah kin fahgit, Ole Miss wus sick in bed; Ole Mause, he ripped, an' cussed, an' to', An' made himself a dread. Somehow, I can't tell how it wus, He slapped my sistah Sue, And mammy, coase she took it up, Den dah wus heap to do. Pete lit right in wid tooth and claw. And so did little sis, Fah me, I had anoihah plan, I flew upstairs fah Miss. -SO- Gleanings Of QCxiei flo6rs. I met Miss Nancy on de stairs. Wrapped in a great big shawl, An* comin' down de steps so fast, Jest seemed as ef she'd fall. I tried to tell her Svhut wus up,' She pushed me on bcfo*, Fah mammy's cries wus in her yeahs, An' she heard nothin' mo'. She caught ole Mause, an' pulled him off; Her eyes dey fa'ly blazed; Ole Mause commenced a silly grin, An* looked like he wus dazed. I'd nevah seed Miss Nancy mad. Good Lo'd ! She fussed an* to*e; She *raked ole Maustah o*er de coals*, Until he beg)^ed an' swo'. She wouldn't 'low Maria whoopeJ, She jest would leave de place, An* take 'way ev'ry slave she brought! She jest r'ared in his face. -51 GIear)ir)gs Of Qaiet fioars. She wouldn't 'low Maria whooped, Jest leave her young ones be! They nevah sassed h '.r w!ien she spi^ke, It wasn't dem, 'twas he! He tried to coax her back to bed, But, Lo'ci!She wouldn't go: *Whut time had she to stay upstairs When he would take on so?' An' Mammy, she wus cryin' loud ; (De whonpin' wus her fus,) An', whut wid little sistah Sue, It made Miss Nancy wus. She'd fuss all round ihout Ole Mause, Jest like a spunky hen; SheM pat my mothah on de back, An' den begin* again. Well son, she p'intly made things wi'm, F'ah Ole Mause whined an' swo'; No mattah how we all took on. He'd whoop none uv us mo\ »-52- Gleanings Of QCiiet {io6ps, **Maria, take yo' Miss upstairs!" He'd wring his hands an* say; Miss Nancv'd stamp her foot an' scream» She'd stay right tha' all day. Well, when she'd fussed plum out uv bref, To add to his ai^'ms, She jest *keeled' ovah in a faint, An* fell into his a'ms. Well, son, tha wus anothah stir; We young ones tliougfht her dead: Ole Mause, I b'lieve, he thought so too, Fah he plum lost his head. Ole Miss wus sick fah quite a spell, An' mad right thue it all; Fah when ole Mause cumed grinnin* roun\ She'd turn an' face de wall. So things went on, until one day, He axed her, how she felt. She reached out wid her ole time smile, So he cumed tha an' knell. -53- GIe9nir)gs Of QCiiet fioars, Dey made it up, right dah an* den, An' as de day was fa', He took her up into his a'ms, An' brung her down de sta'. An* aftah dat, I tell you, son, Ole Mause, he let us be. An* doe he slashed de othah slaves, Pete, Sue, an' me went free. An' so de time went spiniiin' on, VVid not a keer nor plan; I didn't know whut trouble wus, Till I wus nigh a man, Ole Fairfax owned my fathah, Fon, Dey lived across de creek, De white folks aPays let him come, Three nights in ev'ry week. Of coase he had his Sundays, too. Great days dey use to be, Fah all de blessed day hcM have, We young ones, bout his knee. -54- Gl6ar)ir)gs Of Qaiet t^oars. Or else, he'd take us all to church, All breshed up neat an' new, Wid Mammy hanging to his arm, An' leading little Sue. An' Mammy's eyes 'ud be so bright, When she had Pappy near; She'd laugh an' giggle like a gal, But tryin' times drawed near. Ole Mause an' Fairfax wus fast friends; A pa' uv roscals day ; In gambiin', cheatin', an' de like, Dey bofe had heap to say. So bofe got mixed up in a scrape, Wid Richmond's bank, an' den, Dey bofe sold ev'ry slave dey had, To keep out uv de pen. I tell you son de good white-folks, Wus good in time uv ease; But soon as hawd times cummed tha' way, Dey'd change, ''quick as you please. -S5- Glearjipgs Of Qaiet t^oars. Soon as Miss Nancy seed de trap, Ole Mause had done walked in, She changed right dah, an who but she! A-helpin' him to sin. Dey talked an' planned togethah, long; An', as de days flew by, Miss Nancy chang^ed an* got so cross, Dat Mammy use to cry. One mawnin', jest to pick a fuss, She said she missed a pie; When Mammy said dey all wus tha, She said, she told a lie. *Dat pie wus in her cabin, hid; She wus a vixen, bold; An* ef she didn't bring it back, She'd have her whooped an' sold.* Well, son, you see dat wus her scheme, To sell her, wid de rest ; An* aftah dat, she made it plain, To all uv us, I *fess. -56- Glear)ir)gs Of QCxiet fIo6rs. An' so, at last, de day rolled 'round, When all, exceptin' I, Wus put upon de block an' sold, To any one who'd buy. Oh, son! You don't know whut it is, To see yo' loved ones sold, An' hear de groans, an* see de tears, Uv young, as well as ole. An' see dem white men bus'lin 'roun', A-feelin' uv yo' a'm. An' havin' you to run an' skip, An' caper till you's wa'm. An' all de while, wid questions,keen, An' wid a watcthful eye, Not keerin' how yo' h'a't might ache, Jest so you's strong an', spry. Po* Mammy! How kin I fahgit, Her pa'tin* from us all? Dat pa'tin', son, will 'bide wid me, Until de Lo'd will call! -57- (3l6ar)ir)gs Of Qdiet floCirs, *Way down de rivah, she wus sold, Alone, wid no kin nigh; Her tendah h'a't broke 'fo' she left, I know she's long on High. An' Pappy, Pete, an' little Sue, Wus sent their dif'rent ways, An' not one has my eyes beheld, Since dem sad, pa'tin', days. Oh son, you don't know how I felt. When all dat stir wus past! Sometimes I'd git to grievin' so, I thought I couldn't last. De empty cabins all aroun', De stables empty, too. Miss Nancy, cryin* day an* night Ole Mause a-lookin' blue. I tell you son, dem tryin'days, Aw burnt into my soul: I feel de pain, I see it all, Same as dem days uv old. -58- Gle5r)ir)gs Of QOiet Jio6rs. Ah well! De sun will sometimes shine, E'en in a po' slave's life; De Lo'd healed up my broken h'a't, By sendin' me a wife. Miss Nancy wus as good to her. An' spilte her jest as bad. As she did mammy long befo', Sometimes it made me sad. Ole Mause had prospered, bought mo* slaves, Ole Miss wus sweet an' kind, My little ones an' Charlotte dear. Had pushed my grief behind. I al'ays wus Miss Nancy's pet, She made it very plain; An* I must say, in all my grief, She tried to ease my pain. An' now, dat I wus gay once mo*, An* happy as could be. She petted Charlotte an* my chaps, An' seemed as pleased as me. -59- Gl€ar)ir)gs Of QCilei fIo6rs, So lime sped on widout a keer, Save whut had lon^j^ since past, Till Ole Mause's health begin to fail, An' son, he went down fast. He took on scanMous in dem days, When he saw death wus nigh, He cussed an' to' from mawn till night, It made Miss Nancy cry. He nevah had been conquered, son. By any living thing. So, when grim Death lay hold uv him. He fit ha'd, 'gainst de sting. But, son, at last he'd found his match, Fah spite uv all his rage, Ole Satan flung his fi'ry hook, An' pulled him in his cage. You nevah seed a sinnah die, So son you jest don't know; You could 've heard Ole Maustah cuss, Fuh half a mile or mo'. =60« Qlear)ir)gs Of QCilet Jioars. He axed me fuh a class uv gin. He jest wus crazy mrd, He bit de rim from off de glass, An' spit it on de bed. An' den he yelled, "Look at him, Si! "Drive that black dog away! He's snapping at my throat, you see, Ketch hold his chain, I say!" He would 've spruno^ plum out de bed, Had r not held him in, Den, wid a long an' doleful yell, He died in all his sin. De wah, dat had been grumblin' roun', Broke full about dis time, De slaves begun a-walkin' off, To suit their own free mind. Ole Miss wus cryin' day an* night, An' beggin' me to stay, While Charlotte urged me, on de sly, To go North, fah away. -61- Gl€5r)ir}9s Of QCxiet {loQrs, I looked into her plead in' e5'es, So helpless, trustiu' me, An' den, upon my little chaps, An' manhood said, "Be free!* Ole Missus cumed down to de gate; To bid f ah well she tried, But she jest held fast bofe our hands, An' cried, an' cried, an' cried. An' so we cumed up to dis state, An* worked on, bes' we could, A-trustin* al'ays in de Lo'd, An' tryin' to be good. We raised our chaps, dey all done well, An' now have settled down, Exceptin* Jane, our baby gal, Who you aw co'ting now. You say, you want her fah yo' wife? I know, uv co'se you do; I give consent, fah son you see, ! al'ays did like you. -62- Gleanings Of Q(i\ei lioCivs, Dat lifts a burden from my mind, You're young, an* good, an' true. We've lived to see our othahs thrive, We want Jane settled, too. Take good keer uv our baby, son, A tendcih child she be, Why, look! Here she au' Charlotte comes; She's told her Ma you see. THE INTERRUPTED REPROOF. ELLA WHEELER! did I evah? Playing with yo' ole dollb;Well! Great, big gal, here, tall as mammy, Big a baby as Estelle! .63- Glecinings Of Qaiet floars. I'll tell daddy, Miss, this eb'nin', And he'll pleg yo' life out sho'; Great big gal, with beaux a-comin', Crawlin' 'round heah on the flo' ! Sunday noon, gwine tell the Elder; Sunday night, I'm gwine tell El; Needn't come heah tryiii' to hug me! You caint coax it out my head. Yo* ole mammy's not gwine keep it, Ed's gwine 'o hear it sho's you bo'n ; Shame on you! An' Ed a co'ting. Playing dolls heah all the mo'n. Them's yo* dolls! Think I don't know them, When I bought them all myse'l? Needn't try, caint fool yo' mammy. Them's Estellc's tha on the shef. Gwine tell Ed, and gwine tell daddy, What's that noise! Who's that out tha'? Give me them dolls, Lawd, here's Eddie! Mussy sakes! Go bresh yo' ha' -64- Gleanings Of Qaiet floCirs, FREEDOM AT McNEALY'S. LL around old Chattanooga, War had left his wasteful trace; And tiie rebels, quelled and baffled, Freed reluctantly their slaves. A On his spacious, cool, veranda — Stood McNealy, gaunt and tall. With bowed head, and long arms folded, Pondering on his blacks, enthralled. Years, and years, he'd been their master, H