.IBRAKY OF CONGRESS. * 
 
 
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 ! UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.^ 
 

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jtm^ ^ttii 
 
 OTHEH POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 A. I. ^AMBLEK, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA : 
 
 S. D. BURLOCK. 
 
 18G7. 
 
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 Entered according to Act of Congress, in tne year 1S66, by 
 
 A. I. AMBLER, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States 
 for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 
 
 ^ j^^ J- FAGAN & SON, V^^ 
 O-^e^ STEREOTYPE FOUNDERS, K^(A. 
 ^ '^j* PHILADELPHIA. \J^ 
 
 ^^ xyx ^C* 
 
 PRINTED BY SHERMAN & CO. 
 
TO 
 
 MISS SALLIE WALKER 
 
 ®hesij poems 
 
 ARB 
 
 AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 
 
 (V) 
 
JntroihtttioiK 
 
 It has been with great hesitation that ] 
 have ventured to present the following poems 
 to public notice. In these years, "dabbling in 
 poetry" seems to have become so universal, 
 that critics are disj^osed to look coldly on the 
 struggling efforts of one just entering the lit- 
 erary world ; and many a volume, the patient 
 labor of years, is condemned to lie neglected 
 and forlorn on the bookseller's shelves. It is 
 hojDcd, however, that this small book will not 
 meet such an unhapp}" fate. The poems con- 
 tain nothing deep and labored enough to call 
 down a lengthy criticism; and coming, as they 
 do, in the beautiful Christmas-time of the year, 
 may they find a generous public ready to ap- 
 preciate merit, if there be any, and to overlook 
 the errors that may chance to occur: and so, 
 my little book, 
 
 Go fuith thy fate to meet; 
 
 Censure disheartens, but all praise is sweet. 
 
 A. I. A. 
 
 (yii) 
 

 OH ! cold and drear lies old Krajneer 
 On an inlet of the sea, 
 And ever around its rugged coast 
 The winds howl dismally. 
 
 Oh ! rough and brown are the hardy men 
 
 That dwell here by the sea, 
 But all day long, with the ocean's voice, 
 
 Rise their songs so wild and free. 
 
 They toil not 'neath a monarch's power. 
 
 Nor to mammon bend their knee, 
 But they lift their heads, and with joyous hearts, 
 
 Bless God for liberty. 
 
10 JESSIE REED. 
 
 Here walks no slave, with soul forlorn, 
 
 Longing by death to be free ; 
 Here comes not the voice of the iron Avheel, 
 
 But only the grand old sea. 
 
 Though cold and drear lies old Krayneer 
 
 On an inlet of the sea. 
 Sweet happiness breaks the spell of gloom 
 
 With its angel-melody. 
 
 Now once in a land more warm and bright, 
 
 A lady sad to see. 
 Asked, with repining in her voice, 
 
 ** Oh ! where can happiness be ? 
 
 " Few faces bright with undimmed joy, 
 
 It hath been mine to see, 
 But many a one whose wistful eyes 
 
 Told a secret misery." 
 
 Now there chanced to hear the lady pale, 
 
 A sailor bold and free, 
 And he lifted his cap from his honest brow, 
 
 And smiled right merrily. 
 
JESSIE KEED. 11 
 
 " Few faces hast thou gazed upon, 
 
 That seemed all joy to be, 
 But, lady, hast thou ever dwelt 
 
 In Krayneer by the sea ? " 
 
 Then the sailor paused and said no more ; 
 
 But the lady up spake she, 
 " I hear 'tis a bleak and barren shore, 
 
 All desolate to see." 
 
 "Bleak and bare," the sailor said, 
 
 "Is Kraj'Ueer's coast to see. 
 But the lovely peace that brightens its gloom 
 
 Was beautiful unto me. 
 
 " And the rugged men that dwelt therein. 
 
 Oh ! they toiled so merrily. 
 And gladdened that bleak and barren land 
 
 With their joyous revelry. 
 
 "And a frowning brow, and weary e3^es 
 
 Were rarest things to see ; 
 Oh ! the sweet content that blessed their toil, 
 
 Tau.Q-ht a life-louG: lesson to me. 
 
12 JESSIE REED. 
 
 " And happy the wife of each happy man, 
 With her little ones round her knee ; 
 
 And the babe on her bosom lulled to sleep 
 By the music of the sea. 
 
 " And fair were the maidens that there I saw, 
 With the beauty contentment gave, 
 
 And the cheeks a;glow with the healthy breeze 
 That swept o'er the ocean-wave. 
 
 " Browned were their faces by the sun, 
 
 But lovely they looked to me ; 
 And their meek, soft eyes that shyly drooped 
 
 Were beautiful eyes to see. 
 
 " And oh ! the little ones that roamed 
 
 This land so wild and free, — 
 When I listened to their joyous mirth, 
 
 My heart beat happily. 
 
 " Like angel-children they seemed to me, 
 
 So fair and pure to behold. 
 With their smiling lips and gentle eyes, 
 
 And hair like burnished gold. 
 
JESSIE REED. 13 
 
 " Full many a time they 've thronged around, 
 
 And questioued me eagerly 
 About the land that I left when I sailed 
 
 To old Krayneer by the sea. 
 
 " And when I 'd tell of the wonders rare 
 
 Of the land so dear to me, 
 They 'd beg the old sailor to tell them more 
 
 Of the glory far over the sea. 
 
 '' But much I marvelled the little ones, 
 
 As I each story told, 
 Xe'er said as other children would, — 
 
 ' Ah ! could I thy land behold 1 ' 
 
 " But once a little maiden asked, 
 
 'If many children were there, — 
 And were they not very good and kind, 
 
 In a land so warm and fair ? ' 
 
 " Then I kissed the little one's rosy check, 
 And I kissed her wee brown hand ; 
 
 Oh! never saw I such happy babes 
 As dwell in this bleak, cold land. 
 
14 JESSIE KEED. 
 
 " Full many a time have I stooped and touched 
 Those young brows reverently, — 
 
 Brows in whose meekness joy and peace 
 Was shadowed God's majesty. 
 
 " Full oft those little innocents 
 
 Have lain against my breast, 
 And many a pure and sinless babe 
 
 These arms have lulled to rest. 
 
 " And each hour I passed on Krayneer's coast 
 
 I loved them more and more, 
 For they led me nearer to Heaven's pearl gate 
 
 Than ever I 'd been before." 
 
 Now all this while the lady pale 
 
 Had listened eagerly, 
 And when he ceased, she fain would know, 
 
 " How^ far this land might be ? " 
 
 " Oh ! many a mile," the sailor cried, 
 
 " Across a stormy sea ; 
 The dreariest voyage that I ever sailed 
 
 Was that one voyage to me." 
 
JESSIE REED. 15 
 
 Then said the lady, with wishful eyes, 
 
 '' I had hoped that land to view 
 Where dull repining flees away 
 
 From hearts all good and true." 
 
 Then answered the sailor, " If God permits 
 
 And all goes well with me, 
 I sail ere long in our gallant ship 
 
 To old Krayneer by the sea." 
 
 Then up spake the lady with joyful voice, 
 
 " Why then I '11 sail .with thee ; 
 For many a weary mile would I go 
 
 That God-blest shore to see." 
 
 The lady hath crossed the ocean wide, 
 
 Her dreary voyage is o'er, 
 She hath found that the sailor's words were true 
 
 Of old Krayneer's rugged shore. 
 
 She hath found that sweet content and peace 
 
 Make " humble lives divine," 
 And she murmurs softly to herself, 
 
 "Would some of that peace were mine.'' 
 
16 JESSIE REED. 
 
 And as she walketh along the beach, 
 
 Forth come the children to see ; 
 " Oh ! never to old Krayneer's rough shore 
 
 Came a lad}" so grand as she." 
 
 And the happy maids and the gentle dames 
 
 Glance towards her timidly, 
 And they whispering say among themselves, 
 
 " A very proud lady is she." 
 
 Then the lady lifts her costly veil. 
 
 And the maids and matrons see, 
 That her beautiful face looks troubled and pale, 
 
 " Oh ! a very sad lady is she.'' 
 
 For she hath a weary, suffering look. 
 As she hath seen sorrow and fears. 
 
 And her lovely eyes so dark and bright. 
 Are liquid with unshed tears. 
 
 Then up spake the lady, with gentle voice, 
 
 " For this I have come unto ye. 
 That I may behold the blessed peace 
 
 That gladdens this land by the sea." 
 
JESSIE REED. 17 
 
 Then answered a matron with peaceful eyes 
 
 And a brow unsaddened by care, 
 " It hath been said that we 're more blest 
 
 Than many in countries fair. 
 
 " Oh ! many a stranger grand and proud, 
 
 From lands far over the sea, 
 Hath kissed our little ones' rosy cheeks, 
 
 And lifted them on his knee. 
 
 "Oh! many a stranger hath bared his head 
 
 To our maidens courteously, 
 And many a maiden hath sailed away. 
 
 The wife of a noble grandee. 
 
 " But ne'er came a stranger to Krayneer's shore. 
 
 That spoke not of the love — 
 The love and the peace which make our cold land, 
 
 In joy like the Land above." 
 
 Th(3n said the lady sad and pale, 
 " For a while I will dwell with ye, 
 
 And perchance the love which gladdens your lives 
 Will throw its pure charm o'er me." 
 
18 JESSIE EEED. 
 
 And the lady dwelt with the lowl}^ ones. 
 
 Till she learned to love them well, 
 And in view of their sweet humility, 
 
 Strove her worldly pride to quell. 
 
 And every day with their little ones, 
 
 She walked by the restless sea, 
 And its voice, once discordant unto her ear 
 
 Became glorious harmony. 
 
 N'ow in Krayneer dwelt a little maid, 
 
 Oh ! a bright little maid was she. 
 And her young voice gladdened her lowly home 
 
 With its clear, rich melody. 
 
 And it chanced one day, as the lady walked forth, 
 
 This little one she did see, — 
 Oh ! thought the lady, could angel of Heaven 
 
 More beautiful be than she ? 
 
 Though brown was the little maiden's face, 
 
 'T was lovely as face could be ; 
 And her waving hair, like a glittering stream, 
 
 Flowed round her radiantlv. 
 
JESSIE KEED. 19 
 
 Then the lady beckoned with her white hand : 
 
 "Come hither, sweet child, to me, 
 For never before on Krayneer's shore 
 
 That happy face did I see." 
 
 But the little maiden was wild and shy. 
 
 And from the lady fled she ; 
 And the lady looked after her as she fled, 
 
 And laughed right merrily. 
 
 Then the children that walked by the lady's side, 
 Back brought they the little maid : 
 
 " Now tell me, little fairy bright, 
 Why wast thou of me afraid ? " 
 
 Then the child kissed the lady's pale, sad face. 
 And played Avith her jewels bright. 
 
 " Oh never," she cried, in her joyous voice, 
 " Did I see such a beautiful sight ! 
 
 " Oh ! they shine like the drops of the sea in the 
 sun, 
 
 But more beautiful far are they." — 
 "And wouldst thou like such jewels to wear, 
 
 Novv tell me, wee maiden, I pray ? " 
 
20 JESSIE EEEl). 
 
 "Oh! I have a little brother at home, 
 
 AYith silky dark-brown hair, 
 And his baby-face, my lady bright. 
 
 Like yours is pure and fair. 
 
 " If this chain were mine, I 'd twine it round 
 
 His little throat so white, 
 And then he would clap his tiny hands, 
 
 And laugh at the w^onderful sight." 
 
 Then said the lady to herself, 
 
 " She hath my heart beguiled ; 
 Fain to my lonely splendid home 
 
 Would I bear this little child." 
 
 " Now tell me, I pray thee, winsome maid, 
 
 Wilt thou not go with me. 
 Unto my grand and beautiful homo, 
 
 And a proud little lady be? " 
 
 ' Oh ! how could I leave my mother dear, 
 
 And my little brothers three. 
 And forget my father humble and poor, — 
 
 And a proud little lady bo? " 
 
JESSIE REED. 21 
 
 Then said the lady to herself, 
 
 " A loving heart hath she, 
 Ah ! if the Lord of Heaven would give 
 
 A blessing like her unto me ! " 
 
 Then she bent and kissed the innocent face, — 
 , Oh ! she kissed it tenderly ; 
 " Now tell lue, fair child, of thy humble home, 
 And the ones so dear to thee." 
 
 " Cf all the homes in old Krayneer, 
 
 My home is nearest the sea; 
 And we walk on the beach the livelong day, 
 
 I and my brothers three. 
 
 " And when evening comes, my mother dear, 
 
 She gathers us round her knee. 
 And then we bow our heads and pray 
 
 For my father out on the sea. 
 
 ' Ch ! my father is a sailor brave, 
 
 A goodly ship sails he, 
 'T is many a long and weary month 
 
 Since I his face did see. 
 
22 JESSIE KEED. 
 
 "But my mother says, he will come to us, 
 
 In the sunny month of May, 
 And I and my little brothers three 
 
 Wait patiently for the day." 
 
 " Xow of thy little brothers three, 
 
 I pray thee, maiden, tell, 
 For glad are your eyes when you speak of them, 
 
 As if you loved them well." 
 
 " My oldest brother hath seen six years, 
 
 A tall strong boy is he ; 
 My father calls him his brave little man. 
 
 And loveth him best of the three. 
 
 "My second brother my mother loves, — 
 
 Oh I she loveth him tenderly, — 
 And she loveth him best because , she says, 
 
 Not long with her will he be. 
 
 " For his little face is white and thin. 
 
 And daily fadeth he, 
 And when he sleeps, o'er his wasted form 
 
 My mother weeps mournfully. 
 
JESSIE KEED. 23 
 
 "The youngest boy my darling is, — 
 Oh ! I hold him close to my heart, 
 
 And never will I, while on earth I live, 
 From my baby-brother part." 
 
 Bright stood the tears in the lady's eyes, 
 
 But sweetly her sad lips smiled; 
 " Now unto thy humble but blessed home, 
 
 Pray lead me, fair young child." 
 
 Then the maiden walked by the lady's side. 
 
 Holding her jewelled hand; 
 Oh ! a prouder little maid than she 
 
 Dwelt not in Krayneer's land. 
 
 "My name, dear lady, is Jessie Reed," 
 
 Quoth the little one bashfully; 
 " Now I pray thee, tell me, lady pale, 
 
 What name shall I give unto thee ? '' 
 
 " Oh, call me Lady Amabel, 
 
 My fair little Jessie Reed." — 
 Cried Jessie, — " Lady Amabel ! 
 
 'Tis a very sweet name indeed | " 
 
24 JESSIE REED. 
 
 Now when they came to young Jessie's home, 
 
 Near the door sat a matron fair, 
 And she held a child upon her knee, 
 
 Combing his dark-brown hair 
 
 '•Oh! mother, 'tis Lady Amabel, 
 
 And she hath come to see 
 My very humble, but happy home, 
 
 And my little brothers three." 
 
 Up rose the matron, with gentle smile, 
 
 And she took the lady's hand, 
 While the four young children gathered round, 
 
 A joyous little band. 
 
 Then said the lady to herself, 
 
 " This dame is of gentle birth, 
 iNfore nobly beautiful face than hers 
 
 Could scarce be found on earth." 
 
 Dark were the matron's beaming eyes. 
 
 And very dark was her hair. 
 And the hand that rested on Jessie's head, 
 
 Like the ladv's, was small and fair, 
 
JESSIE REED. 25 
 
 ''iS'ow tell me, Dame Keed," said the ladj pale, 
 
 As near the matron sat she ; 
 " Now I pray thee, tell me of old Krayneer, 
 
 Thy native land, maybe ? " — 
 
 "Nay, lady; I came from a fairer land, 
 
 But not so dear to me ; 
 And I fled from my grand and stately home, 
 
 To old Krayneer by the sea. 
 
 " Oh ! my father slept in his marble tomb, 
 And my mother slept by his side ; 
 
 And naught they left to their orphaned one, 
 Save ' a name of ancient pride.' 
 
 " But I had an uncle stern and cold. 
 
 Who took me to his home. 
 And 'mid every splendor that gold could give, 
 
 My childish feet did roam. 
 
 "But though my uncle's wealth was mine, — 
 
 For no other kin had he, — 
 I knew that his cold heart loved me not. 
 
 And the years passed drearily. 
 
26 JESSIE KEEJ). 
 
 " And at eighteen, Lady Amabel, 
 
 I was weary of my life, 
 Till I met and loved a sailor brave, 
 
 And he claimed me for his wife. 
 
 '• Then my uncle laughed loud and scornfully ; 
 
 Oh ! 1 think I hear him now : 
 I tell thee, girl, thy husband must place 
 
 A coronet on thy brow 
 
 " But dearer than wealth, and power, and pride, 
 Was my brave young sailor to me; 
 
 And I fled with him, at the dead of night, 
 To old Krayneer by the sea. 
 
 " And very happy I have been 
 
 On this shore so drear and wild ; 
 And very happy I would be now, 
 
 But for my dying child." 
 
 Then said pale Lady Amabel, 
 
 As she wept in sympathy, 
 *' Thou wilt not mourn for thy sinless child, 
 
 Wh^n thou hast listened to me. 
 
JESSIE REED. 27 
 
 "Oh, I had a boy, a gentle boy, — 
 
 He was life and love to me, 
 For his father slept in his tombless grave, 
 
 Under the rolling sea. 
 
 "And this child's soul clung unto mine own 
 
 With a wild intensity ; 
 Oh, never a boy his mother loved 
 
 As my sweet boy loved me. 
 
 "But there came a time in his manhood years, 
 
 When he turned away from me. 
 And followed one, who loved him not, 
 
 With a mad idolatry. 
 
 " To see the dark despair in his eyes, 
 
 Where once mirth used to be ; 
 To see him from my kisses turn, ^ 
 
 Oh ! 't was worse than death to me 
 
 " And at last, one night, one dreadful night,— 
 
 The like may you never see, — 
 They brought him home, with a gush in his head, 
 
 All cold and dead to me. 
 
28 JESSIE REED. 
 
 " And I heard them murmur, soft and low, — 
 
 ' By his own rash act died he ; ' 
 Then my reason fell from her throne, and warred 
 
 With the demon Insanity. 
 
 " Oh ! I kissed.my darling's bloody brow, 
 
 And I shrieked in my agony ; 
 And I praj^ed that God, with his strong right 
 hand, 
 
 From my life would set me free. 
 
 " Yet I lived, — I lived with my maddening grief, 
 But my heart was turned to stone ; 
 
 I saw my darling laid in his tomb. 
 And I uttered not even a moan. 
 
 "But that night, in my restless sleep, I dreamed, — 
 I dreamed that I was in Heaven, — 
 
 And I saw my boy with his brow all clean, 
 And on it was written, ' Forgiven.' 
 
 '' And the chorus of angels rose grand and clear. 
 
 As I clasped him to my breast, — 
 * Now welcome. Lady Amabel, 
 
 To the Countrv of the Blest.' 
 
JESSIE KEED. 29 
 
 " Oh ! dare I hope, when I leave this earth, 
 
 That dream fulfilled to find ? "— 
 " And so thou wilt," cried Jessie Keed, 
 
 '* For God is good and kind." 
 
 '' But, child, he took his own young life, 
 
 And fell in sin and pride." — 
 " Nay, weep not, Lady Amabel, 
 
 For sin Lord Jesus died." 
 
 " Jessie, little comforter. 
 
 Heaven bless thy sunny heart ; 
 Thou 'It cheer thy mother, when by death 
 
 She and her boy must part." 
 
 Then said Dame Reed : " Oh ! lady pale. 
 
 My woe is joy to thine ; 
 Now, by God's help, no more will I 
 
 For my pure child repine?" 
 
 Oh ! there were but four in young Jessie's home, 
 
 Ere the merry month of May, 
 For the little brother, pale and meek. 
 
 To his rest had passed away. 
 
80 JESSIE REED. 
 
 "Xow, where is my other, my gentle boy ? " 
 Cried the father, bold and brave ; 
 
 "Alas, for the little, gentle one, — 
 He sleeps in his tiny grave." 
 
 Then loud and long wept Robin Reed, — 
 
 Oh I he wept so bitterly ; — 
 " Now, pray, did the boy, before he died, 
 
 Ever think or speak of me?" 
 
 " father," cried Jessie, " he longed for thee. 
 And he asked dear mother to pray, 
 
 That God would leave him on the earth 
 Till the sunny month of May. 
 
 " But when the last great spasm came, — 
 Though he uttered no moan or sigh, — 
 
 He closed his weary eyes, and said, 
 ' Pray God to let me die.' " 
 
 Then the sailor wiped his tears away ; — 
 
 " No longer will 1 weep. 
 Now why should I wish, in. my selfish love, 
 
 The boy iji his pain to l«'op?" 
 
JESSIE REED. 31 
 
 Then he gathered his children round his knee, 
 
 And he kissed them o'er and o'er. 
 " Why if I have one sweet child in Heaven, 
 
 On earth I have three more." 
 
 "Now who is Lady Amabel? " 
 
 Asked the sailor wonderingly, 
 As the children talked of a lady pale, 
 
 And what a good lady was she. 
 
 Then said Dame Reed, " 'Tis a lady that came 
 
 From a land far over the sea ; 
 And very pale and sad is her face, 
 
 For a sorrowing heart hath she. 
 
 " But more of happiness she hath found 
 
 On this bleak and barren shore ; 
 And her heart hath been blessed by a sweeter 
 peace 
 
 Than it knew for years before." 
 
 "But," cried young Jessie, sorrowfully, 
 
 " Erelong the lady will roam, 
 And leave us all who have loved her well, 
 
 An(l go to her beautiful home. 
 
32 JESSIE KEED. 
 
 "And, father, she prays me to go with her, 
 And her own little daughter be ; 
 
 But ne'er will I leave my own dear home, 
 For a home unknown to me." 
 
 Oh! the sea, the sea, the grand old sea, 
 
 It soundeth endlessly, 
 And " it singeth ever with mighty voice, 
 
 Of death and eternity." 
 
 Now why is young Jessie's cheek so pale. 
 Where the bright flush used to be? 
 
 And why do her feet, once bounding and swift 
 Now walk so wearily ? 
 
 Why plays she not on the sandy beach, 
 As she played there once before ; 
 
 And why does the voice that once sang clear 
 Now warble its carols no more ? 
 
 All day long sits Jessie Reed 
 
 Near a window fronting the sea, 
 And her baby-brother sits at her feet, 
 
 With his head upon her knee. 
 
JESSIE KEED. 33 
 
 And in the meekness of her eyes 
 
 ' Dwells a spirit of prophecy, 
 That tells, not long on Krayneer's shore 
 Will the sailor's daiio-hter be. 
 
 Oh ! dim grow Robin Reed's blue eyes, 
 As he looks on the death-marked brow ; 
 
 "And if I must lose another pearl, 
 Lord, to thy will I bow ! " 
 
 And this is why his goodly ship 
 
 Sails not upon the sea; 
 He waits to see a pure young soulj 
 
 Float on to eternity. 
 
 And this is why the lady pale 
 
 Lingers on Krayneer's shore, 
 Near the child that she hath learned to love 
 
 As she loved but one before. 
 
 But after a time the lady pale 
 Will go to her home o'er the sea. 
 
 And wnth a soul that forever more 
 Shall better and purer be. 
 C 
 
34 JESSIE KEED. 
 
 For she hath learned in this barren land 
 
 A lesson of peace and love, 
 Even such as the Saviour taught us once, 
 
 When he came from his throne above. 
 
 And when her spirit is sick and faint. 
 
 From its sorrow great to bear, 
 She will think how over this rugged land 
 
 Brooded peace and joy so fair. 
 
 She will think of a little angel-girl, 
 
 That sat upon her knee 
 And the look which dwelt in the child's meek 
 eyes, 
 
 Ere her soul to its God did flee. 
 
 " ^NTow lift the curtain, mother dear, 
 
 That the ocean I may see, 
 And that its breath, so cool and fresh, 
 
 May come in unto me. 
 
 " And, father, call my brothers in, 
 
 They 're playing on the shore : 
 I want to see their merry eyes, 
 
 And kiss their lips once more. 
 
JESSIE REED. 85 
 
 "Nay, weep not, Lady Amabel, 
 
 For little Jessie Reed, 
 Soon unto Heaven the blessed Lord 
 
 My weary feet shall lead. 
 
 " Oh ! when my little brother died. 
 
 And they buried him by the sea, 
 I thought, if I died, would Jesus care. 
 
 For a poor little maid like me. 
 
 " But now I know that his great love, 
 Cometh unto both strong and weak, 
 
 And in the strength of my childish faith, 
 His mercy I will seek." 
 
 O hour of death ! O solemn hour ! 
 
 God's peace hath cheered th}^ gloom, 
 Its incense floats o'er Jessie's head. 
 
 And fills the silent room. 
 
 Oh ! she lay on her pillow cold and white, 
 
 But beautiful to see; 
 And her long light hair, like a glittering stream, 
 
 Flowed round her radiantlv. 
 
SQ TEMPTED. 
 
 Oh ! never such sorrowful tears were shed 
 
 As fell, young child, for thee; 
 And never near unto the Lord's bright throne 
 
 Stood holier angel than thee. 
 
 Oh, never more hallowed grave was made 
 Than thine by thy own lored sea. 
 
 And never a grander requiem heard 
 Than the ocean chanted for thee. 
 
 Oh cold and drear lies old Kraynecr 
 
 On an inlet of the sea, 
 And ever around young Jessie's grave 
 
 The winds wail mournfully. 
 
 fmnpted 
 
 OXCE more I see thee, though never again. 
 Not though my heart-strings should burst 
 in their pain ; 
 Flee then forever this hour from ni}^ sight, 
 Leave me, tempter ! leave me to-night ! 
 
TEMPTED. 37 
 
 By the pure child that hath lain on my breast, 
 Whose warm pressing kisses my forehead has 
 
 blest, 
 By his young spirit in Heaven now bright, 
 Leave me. tempter ! leave me to-night 
 
 By his great wrongs who now calls me his wife, 
 Whose heart clings to mine with a love strong 
 
 as life : 
 Now while my soul is yet spotless and white, 
 Leave me, tempter ! leave me to-night ! 
 
 That I have lured thee on to this goal. 
 Hear me confess with dread anguish of soul ; 
 Now I shrink back from m}^ sin in affright, — 
 Leave me, tempter ! leave me to-night ! 
 
 Back to thy station, back to thy fame, 
 Forehead unCushed with the crimson of shame ; 
 Back while thy honor is still pure and bright, — 
 Leave me, tempter ! leave me to-night ! 
 
 By the great love I have borne unto thee. 
 By the great love thou hast borne unto me, 
 Hear my wild prayer as I strive for the right, 
 Leave me, O tempter! leave me to-night j 
 4 
 
38 PAUL HUNTER. 
 
 By the lilies that droop o'er my old mother's 
 
 grave, 
 By my hope that Lord Jesus hath power to save, 
 By the dim future all veiled to my sight, 
 Leave me, tempter ! leave me to-night ! 
 
 By every soul that with Satan hath striven, 
 By every angel that dwells in yon Heaven, 
 By the Lord's mercy, and by his great might, 
 Leave me, tempter ! leave me to-night ! 
 
 Jesus of Nazareth, pure, undefiled. 
 Kneeling, behold me, thy penitent child ; 
 He who would lure me away from the right, 
 Lo ! he hath left me, forever to-night ! 
 
 ^aul gitntni» 
 
 BRIGHTEST day of June's bright days, 
 With sunlight flashing mellow rays. 
 Till dull dark things seem almost fair. 
 And beauteous things more sweet and rare! 
 
PAUL HUNTER. 39 
 
 O day of waving flowers and trees, 
 With balmy breath of fresh spring breeze, 
 While white and blue the skies above, 
 Look down in smiling June-day love. 
 
 Paul Hunter closed his weary eyes, 
 On sunlit flowers and smiling skies, 
 And careless flung him on the grass. 
 Near where the tiny brook-Avaves pass. 
 
 Far from the city's restless din, 
 Far from its haunts of vice and sin, 
 Came he to dream in secret pain 
 Of long-gone years and peace again. 
 
 This was a man the world called great. 
 To whom was meted love and hate. 
 But love or hate to him the same. 
 So that he gained his wreath of fame. 
 
 This was a man whom wealth had blessed, 
 And fortune ever had caressed, 
 But dark the brow and stern the eyes. 
 Now turned from sn^ilino; flowers and skies. 
 
40 PAUL HUNTER. 
 
 In other time it was not so, 
 But that was long, long years ago, 
 Ere sweet content in sorrow died. 
 And gave its place to pomp and pride. 
 
 brightest day of June's bright days, 
 With mystic peace and dreamy haze, 
 O day of golden glorious bloom. 
 With song of birds and flowers' perfume. 
 
 Paul Hunter thought him of the hour 
 When on his breast a lovely flower 
 Faded and died long years ago. 
 And left him in rebellious woe. 
 
 This maiden lily, fair and pure. 
 Could ever the stern man allure. 
 With gentle glance of holiest eyes. 
 From pomp and pride and sin-born ties. 
 
 If she had lived, perchance that now, 
 Flooded with peace the eyes and brow. 
 Had pi-^tured soul that as of yore 
 Thought less of earth, of Heaven more. 
 
PAUL HUNTER. 41 
 
 The pale, proud woman, now his wife, , 
 Had not the power to call to life 
 The oldejQ joy, the peace divine, 
 Nor bid him quaff of love the wine. 
 
 Paul Hunter thought him of the bride, 
 That knelt all prayerful by his side, 
 Laid wealth and beauty by his feet, 
 With cold neglect and slight to meet. 
 
 Remembered how in radiant eyes, 
 Crept saddest look of sad surprise. 
 Till time at last the story told. 
 He wedded her for glittering gold. 
 
 Kemembered how the gay young face. 
 Grew proud and cold an-l childish grace, — 
 Passed into woman's stately pride. 
 Ere one short year had called her bride. 
 
 Ah ! for this woman's hidden grief. 
 But God, the kind God gave relief, 
 And oft the young Avife looked above. 
 And l)lcssed him for her children's love. 
 
 4* 
 
42 PAUL HUNTEK. 
 
 Paul Hunter thought of tiny boys 
 That from their noisy merry joys 
 Shrank trembling 'neath his stern dark eye, 
 And strangely feared when he was nigh, 
 
 Forgetting these his treasures pure, 
 This man, a bubble to secure, 
 An empty fame, the world's renown. 
 Had in his heart all love crushed down. 
 
 brightest day of June's bright days, 
 With mystic peace, and dreamy haze, — 
 O day of influences sweet, 
 Floating away so fair and fleet! 
 
 Paul Hunter raised his tearful eyes 
 Up to the smiling June-day skies, 
 And prayed aloud, long and sincere, 
 With only God and Mature near. 
 
 But God and Nature seemed to meet, 
 And this man's penitence to greet, 
 He felt the waves of mercy roll 
 Over his doubtine:, troubled soul. 
 
PAUL HUNTER. 43 
 
 Slowly the glowing sunlight died, 
 And moonlight, with its silver tide, 
 Lit up the dewy, sparkling sod, — , 
 Paul Hunter was at peace with God. 
 
 Back 'neath the starry evening dome. 
 Returning to his stately home. 
 With soul as peaceful as the night. 
 That fell serene o'er day so bright. 
 
 Those who had called him stern and proud, 
 Saw the great change and marvelled loud ; 
 Those blessed with his repentant love, 
 Knew the great change came from above. 
 
 He cared no longer now for fame. 
 Nor strove to win a haughty name, 
 But clasped his children to his breast, 
 And thought himself more deeply blessed. 
 
 His young wife's proud and pallid face 
 Grew bright once more, and loveliest grace 
 With happiness came back again, 
 Over his heart in joy to reign. 
 
44 TWO LIVES. 
 
 The day that fled away so fast, 
 With loveliness too rare to last, 
 When God and Nature seemed to meet. 
 And this man's penitence to greet. 
 
 Had brought with it the peace divine, 
 So that he quaffed of love the wine, 
 Until his soul, as once of yore, 
 Thoughtless of earth, of Heaven more. 
 
 L" ILIAN'S life is full of beauty, never dimm'd 
 by care or sorrow, 
 Joys to her are ever given, richer, rarer every 
 morrow. 
 
 In her loveliness so wondrous, you might think 
 
 her radiant face 
 Like unto the white- winged angels dwelling in 
 
 a holier place. 
 
 Hair all brightly, softly flowing, veiling brow 
 
 unmarked by frown, 
 E3'es that haunt you with their power, deep and 
 
 thrilling mystic brown. 
 
TWO LIVES. 45 
 
 Tiny hands, all richly jewelled, fold like velvet in 
 
 your own, 
 Surely she is queen of beauty, queen of love, 
 
 and she alone. 
 
 When her voice in music rises, every tongue is 
 
 hushed and still, — 
 Sweet must be the land of Eden where such 
 
 strains forever thrill. 
 
 When amid the gilded harp-strings Lilian's jew- 
 elled fingers shine, 
 
 You might think she caught from Heaven all 
 that power of sound divine. 
 
 In the ball-room's splendid glitter, Lilian's 
 
 beauty reigns supreme, 
 Women gaze like ones enchanted, stern men 
 
 soften 'neath its gleam. 
 
 Yet this maiden, fair and lovely, hath not that 
 
 which God doth prize, 
 By whose grace unto yon Heaven we in death 
 
 may hope to rise. 
 
46 TWO LIVES. 
 
 Living for the pomp of fashion, blooming like 
 
 the soulless flower, 
 Blooming in the present gladness, caring not for 
 
 future hour. 
 
 If you were to tell this maiden of the sorrow in 
 
 the world. 
 Of the hearts once proud and scornful, soon 
 
 from thrones of glorj hurled, — 
 
 Of the hearts that know not joy e'en from the 
 hour that gives them breath, — 
 
 Of the hearts that bear their cross and lay it 
 down to welcome death, — 
 
 She would laugh her gayest laugh, and leave 
 
 you with some mocking jest. 
 Well, ah ! well, the end is coming — she awaits it 
 
 like the rest. 
 
 Let us turn then from this maiden, beautiful, 3^et 
 
 proud and cold. 
 Unto one whose gentle spirit dwells in form of 
 
 plainer mould. 
 
TWO LIVES. 47 
 
 Margaret walks through rugged paths, with 
 
 ne'er a word repining, 
 While peace and truth with hope aud love dwell 
 , in her blue eyes shining. 
 
 You would say she has no beauty, but her fore- 
 head fair, 
 
 Crowned with silken, flowing waves of radiant 
 golden hair. 
 
 Looking at that peaceful forehead, broad, and 
 
 calm, and fair. 
 You might think perchance that sorrow never 
 
 rested there. 
 
 But the tender, patient mouth will tell you she 
 has suffered. 
 
 And at the feet of those she loved her own life- 
 gladness offered. 
 
 Margaret's voice is never heard in gay, loud 
 
 music ringing 
 But many an ear hath listened gladly to its low 
 
 sw^eet singing. 
 
48 TWO LIVES. 
 
 Jewels bright have never shone upon the toil- 
 worn fingers, 
 
 But many a touch from loving lips upon them 
 softlv lingers. 
 
 Margaret's cheek has never flushed amid the 
 
 ball-room's glory, 
 Its faint yet healthful tinge will tell a far more 
 
 peaceful story. 
 
 The richness of her gentle spirit, void of pomp 
 
 and glittering show, 
 Rich in grace and hoh^ love, her Lord and God 
 
 above doth know. 
 
 Of the good that she hath done, in this her life, 
 
 yet in its youth, 
 Child-like in all its innocence, yet womanly in 
 
 strength and truth. 
 
 Of the sorrow she hath soothed and comforted 
 
 with gentlest care, — 
 Of the hearts that she hath rescued from the 
 
 gulfs of dark despair. 
 
RICHMOXD. 49 
 
 Of the hearts that she hath brought repentant 
 
 to her Master's feet, 
 We shall know on that dread day, when at the 
 
 Judgment we shall meet. 
 
 And we shall know which of these fives God 
 
 doth esteem most holy, 
 Lilian's rich in worldly joy, or Margaret's pure 
 
 and lowly. 
 
 Ilidunond 
 
 OUTSIDE Richmond's guarded walls, 
 Far beyond its stately halls. 
 Bright young hope our bosoms filling. 
 Courage bold our spirits thrilling, 
 Patient stood we day by day, 
 Watching, — waiting for the fray. 
 
 Nightly slept we on our arms, 
 Dreaming heard war's loud alarms, 
 Saw the cannon's sheeted lightning, 
 Saw its fire the heavens bright'ning. 
 
50 RICHMOND. 
 
 Felt the leaden bullets' storm, 
 Felt the red blood trickling warm. 
 
 Daily turned our waking eyes 
 To the spot where Richmond lies ; 
 On our coming fate long wondering, 
 On our coming fate long pondering, 
 Saw with throbs of manly pride 
 Our loved commander 'midst us ride. 
 
 Glad we hailed the first deep gun 
 Which told the battle had begun, — 
 To the glorious field quick rushing, 
 'Xeath our feet the damp earth crushing. 
 Proud we marched to meet the foe, 
 With hearts then light soon filled with v\^)e. 
 
 From the breaking of the light. 
 Brave we fought till dark the night, — 
 No helping hands there to relieve us, 
 No fresh troops there to reprieve us, 
 On the fields now red with gore, 
 Lost the victories won before. 
 
 Seven times on our aching sight 
 Rose the sun so warm and bright. 
 
KICHMOXD. 51 
 
 From its rising till its setting, 
 Our parched lips no water wetting, 
 Till our tongues refused to utter 
 Words, and we could scarcely mutter, 
 " Give us, give us blessed drink, 
 Ere in death's embrace we sink! " 
 
 Ah ! the noble men that perished. 
 Men so loved and men so cherished, 
 Looking up with dying eyes 
 To the heavenly, pitying skies, 
 To their fainting brothers near, 
 Murmuring softly, " Do not fear." 
 
 By those days so dark and drear, 
 By their anguish and their fear. 
 By the sorrowing and the sighing, 
 By the suffering and the dying. 
 Swore we ne'er to rest our knives, 
 Till avenged were those dear lives. 
 
 Have we since fulfilled our vow ? 
 Ask the rebels, ask them now j 
 Now while faint their bodies languish, 
 Now while in their souls is anguish. 
 
52 SONG OF TKIUMPH. 
 
 Now while over stars and bars 
 Triumphant wave the stripes and stars. 
 
 On Yirginia's hallowed ground 
 
 Our comrades' graves lie circling round 
 
 Where Potomac's waves are flowing, 
 
 Swiftly on to ocean going, 
 
 There they sleep the ones departed. 
 
 Faithful, true, and loyal-hearted. 
 
 ^oncj of Slriitmj^It. 
 
 "VrOW, fainting captive, burst thy chain, come 
 
 ■^^ forth from prison-cell ; 
 
 Crushed is the power that bowed thee down, 
 and all with thee is well. 
 
 Now, dark-browed slave, lift up thy voice and 
 praise the mighty Lord, 
 
 Who with glad victory hath blessed our right- 
 eous, conquering sword. 
 
SONG OF TRIUMPH. 53 
 
 Oh, sing, yc gently flowing streams, and sing, ye 
 
 thundering seas, 
 And sound the anthem of our joy with every cool, 
 
 fresh breeze. 
 Wake, silent glades and stilly vales, wake, lofty, 
 
 rocky peaks, 
 And join the triumph every heart with happy 
 
 throbbings speaks. 
 
 Now, young wife, tell your lisping boy witlj sol' 
 
 dier-father's brow 
 How to the dust, 'neath might and right, did 
 
 haughty Richmond bow ; 
 And, wailing mourners, stay your grief, and wipe 
 
 all tears away, 
 Let all be gladsome revelry on this right jo3^ous 
 
 day. 
 
 For oh ! this day, this happy day, hath treason's 
 
 stars and bars 
 Bowled down in deep humility to Freedom's 
 
 stripes and stars. 
 Then praise the Lord for victory, ye gallant, 
 
 patriot braves. 
 And praise the Lord for victory, ye blood-bought, 
 
 ransomed slaves. 
 
54 SONG OF TEIUMPH. 
 
 O'er Kichnioncl's streets, where rebel flags once 
 
 fluttered wide and free, 
 Waves the true banner that we love, — ensign of 
 
 liberty. 
 O'er Richmond's streets, where freedom once 
 
 was crushed in mocking scorn, 
 The brightest da}^ she ever saw was gajly, gladly 
 
 born. 
 
 The Lord doth reign; his might is great; who 
 
 shall that might gainsay, — 
 Hath it not given unto us this joyous freedom 
 
 day? 
 We waited long, we watched and prayed, but 
 
 God hath blessed us now, 
 The rebel leaves his stronghold firm, with shame 
 
 upon his brow. 
 
 God bless ye ! noble, patient men, who brought 
 
 about this hour, 
 'Neath whose stern glance dark treason's form 
 
 in deadly fear doth cower ; 
 Your names are writ in living fire on the Lamb's 
 
 Book of Life 
 Where shine the holy names of those who fight 
 
 in righteous strife. 
 
SONG OF TRIUMPH. 55 
 
 God rest ye, slumbering heroes too! whose eyes 
 
 saw not this day, 
 Ye hoped for it, ye prayed for it, ere in cold death 
 
 ye lay ; 
 Sing, sing in Heaven, for angels, too, love peace 
 
 and libert}^. 
 And angel voices join and swell the chorus of the 
 
 free. 
 
 Rise up, rise up, ye down-trod slaves, rise up, free 
 men to-day, 
 
 Great streams of pure and patriot blood have 
 washed your sins away ; 
 
 Lift up your foreheads to the sky, as all your 
 woes expire, 
 
 And let your hearts be filled to-day with free- 
 dom's holy fire. 
 
 Oh fair, free land, thy greatness yet is still in 
 
 budding youth, 
 'T will blossom into glorious bloom 'neath liberty 
 
 and truth ; 
 And ever thus shall dawning morn rise o'er the 
 
 troubled night. 
 And ever shalt thou conquer thus with thy strong 
 
 sword of right. 
 
56 BLIND BEKTHA. 
 
 The Lord doth ivign, his might is great, who 
 
 shall that might gainsay, 
 Hath it not given unto us this joyous freedom 
 
 day? 
 Then praise the Lord for victory, yc gallant 
 
 patriot braves, 
 And praise the Lord for victory, ye blood-bought 
 
 ransomed slaves. 
 
 IN the hush of the summer twilight, 
 While day and night are in loving strife, 
 Gentle Bertha sits at her knitting. 
 Thinking over the woes of her life. 
 
 Ten years old is her first great sorrow. 
 
 Ten long years it has pressed on her heart, 
 
 Ten long years since the Lord did call her 
 From a great blessing of life to part. 
 
 Ten dark years since her eyes have gazed on 
 Blooming flowers and smiling skies ; 
 
 Ten dark 5-ears since the beautiful sunlight 
 Drifted away from her 3 earning eyes. 
 
BLIND BEKTHA. 57 
 
 Nine long years since her lover forsook her, 
 Turning from e3^es that were veiled by God: 
 
 Nine long years since with bleeding spirit, 
 Gentle Bertha passed "under the rod." 
 
 Eight long years since her loving mother 
 •Died, with her head on the blind girl's breast, 
 
 Seven long 3-ears since her kind old father 
 Took up his "everlasting rest." 
 
 Six long years since the beautiful sister, 
 Sorrowing Bertha's hope and pride, 
 
 Laid her head on a snowy pillow. 
 
 Lifted her hands to Heaven, and died. 
 
 Five long years since her noble brother 
 Wandered away from the path of truth; 
 
 Offered up on the world's sin-altar 
 All the pure glory of his youth. 
 
 Four long years since that wayward brother 
 Far from her clinging love did roam. 
 
 Three long years since his fate came to her — 
 A felon's chain and a prison-home. 
 
68 BLIND BERTHA. 
 
 Three long 3^cars since she went unto him, 
 Unto his prison 'neath foreign skies ; 
 
 Three long years since his penitent kisses 
 Fell upon Bertha's sightless eyes. 
 
 Two long years, since she, in that prison, 
 Kissed his dead yet glorified face ; 
 
 Two years since, with her other loved ones, 
 He in the church-yard took his place. 
 
 One glad year, since weeping Bertha 
 Brought her soul to her Saviour's feet ; 
 
 One glad year since regretful pining 
 Gave its place to a patience sweet. 
 
 Gentle Bertha, sad and sorrowful. 
 Peaceful, and good, and true withal, 
 
 Waiteth in patience for the Master, 
 Waiteth to hear his summoning call. 
 
Charitij. 
 
 u 
 
 P and clown the long, long street 
 Wanders a child with weary feet, * 
 And the winter winds shriek drearily, 
 And the child sobs faintly, wearily. 
 Lifts to heaven her little hands. 
 Fettered and frozen by icy bands ; 
 Lifts to heaven her gentle eyes, 
 Blue as the blue of the cloudless skies. 
 
 " Charity, Charity, humble, mild, 
 
 Christ's own darling, God's own child ; 
 
 Are there none that will take thee in ? 
 
 None of all these hearts of sin ? 
 
 Faith and Hope, from homes all bright. 
 
 Look out upon the winter night ; 
 
 Then why should their hapless sister roam? — 
 
 Why hath she then no joyous home? 
 
 "In olden time 'twas said of thee. 
 That thou wert holiest of the three ; 
 Then why dost thou wander up and down. 
 This drearv night, through the dark, dark town? 
 
 ( oO ) 
 
60 CHARITY. 
 
 Go, little one, knock at yon stately door, — 
 They've seen thy innocent face before, — 
 Ask them to take thee in from the street, 
 Whose ice and snow cling close to thy feet.' 
 
 "Ah! the hearts of men are cold, 
 
 The hearts of men, in sin, have grown old ; 
 
 And I, the b€>loved, the revered of yore. 
 
 Reign o'er their darkened souls no more ; 
 
 They pass me by with angry frown, 
 
 And trample and crush me fiercely down : 
 
 Tell me not, then, to sue for pity, 
 
 'Tis dead in the hearts of this great city." 
 
 *' But, Charity, Charity, have they heard 
 How the great preacher, in God's own word — 
 He of the grand and mighty tongue. 
 Whose fame through Heaven and earth was 
 
 rung — 
 Told of thy beauty, told of thy worth. 
 Fairest and purest e'er given to earth ; 
 The fountain of pity is surely stirred 
 In the hearts of those who believe the word." 
 
 "Ah ! they have heard, but some have forgot, 
 And they who remember, heed it not; 
 
THE T^YO PEXITENTS. 61 
 
 They work for Mammon, and war with each 
 
 other, 
 Father 'gainst son, and brother 'gainst brother; 
 For a place in men's hearts I have vainly striven, 
 I wait till the Judgment shall call me t'o Heaven." 
 And the child turns away, and, with weary feet, 
 Walks once more up the dismal street. 
 
 ®hc ®iuo |cnitcnfe. 
 
 THERE came two beings, once wayward, sin- 
 ful, weak, 
 
 And knelt to a judge called the World, all prayer- 
 ful and meek : 
 
 The one, a youth, lifted up his proud 3^oung 
 head, 
 
 And unto that cruel judge, in trembling said, 
 
 " Oh World, I have sinned, but be thou in mercy 
 kind : 
 
 Shall I not hope, for the life before me, in pardon 
 find ? " 
 
 Then the grim old tyrant bent from his lofty 
 throne. 
 
 And these words unto the penitent uttered in 
 gracious tone : 
 
62 THE TWO PENITENTS. 
 
 "By thy repentance do I judge thy sin, 
 
 Go back to my kingdom now, and thy new life 
 
 begin." 
 And he raised him up, and the penitent went his 
 
 way, 
 Even from despairing night unto the light of 
 
 day. 
 
 Then the girl lifted up her face, all wet with tears, 
 ^nd in the young eyes wavered bright hopes, 
 
 dark fears : 
 " Oh World ! I have sinned, yet with my sin 
 
 have I striven. 
 But even as he who tempted me, may I Hot too 
 
 be forgiven ? " 
 Then the World struck the childish forehead 
 
 with iron hand. 
 And left on its snowy whiteness a burning 
 
 brand : 
 " Girl, let my curse fall heavy upon thy heart, 
 And never more, in my kingdom, with innocence 
 
 take thy part." 
 Then the girl fell in the road-side, faint and 
 
 white. 
 And little children came and played with her 
 
 hair so bright : 
 
DEEP IN THE ^VOOD. 63 
 
 But their mothers drew them away, and chiding, 
 
 said, 
 " Touch not, yet sinless ones, that guilty head." 
 
 But as the girl lay in the road-side* faint and 
 
 white, 
 There came unto her a hoh^ being clothed in 
 
 light, 
 And lifted up from the dust that drooping kead, 
 And unto the broken-hearted softly said: 
 " Fear not, though the world condemn thee, God 
 
 has thy sin forgiven. 
 Lo! I have come to bear thee up unto Heaven." 
 And the face of the girl sank on the angel's 
 
 breast. 
 To be lifted up in Heaven and by God's pardon 
 
 blessed 
 
 i^i?p in tin Wooil, 
 
 DEEP in the wood, one summer day, 
 A scene of radiant beauty lay ; 
 The sun had drifted down the hills. 
 And turned to jew^els the mountain rills. 
 
64 DEEP IN THE WOOD. 
 
 But deep in the wood — the heart of the wood- 
 Placid and calm the water stood ; 
 Shining and clear each tiny pool, 
 Placid and calm, clear and cool. 
 
 Up from the earth, moist and soft. 
 Sprang the wee flowers, leaning oft 
 Over the shore of a mimic lake, 
 Seeming to long their thirst to slake. 
 
 Deep in the wood — the heart of the wood — 
 Where the mountain rills all silent stood, 
 Two little children dabbled their feet. 
 And played in the Avater cool and sweet. 
 
 Two little children — frolicsome boys — 
 Each alike in his griefs and J03'S, 
 Passionate, wilful, noble and warm, 
 Lovely in face and lovely in form. 
 
 Each a truant from watchful care. 
 Each well knowing 't was wrong to be there ; 
 For nurse had scolded, and mamma had fro wned- 
 " Little children were sometimes drowned," 
 
DEEP IN THE WOOD. bO 
 
 But here in the woods, careless and gay, 
 The naughty children laughed in their play, 
 Laughed at the hour, stolen and sweet, 
 And splashed the water with bare, white feet. 
 
 Look at their faces pure and fair ; 
 Look at their beautiful eyes and hair : 
 Tell us, which is the low-born one. 
 Which is the haughty baronet's son? 
 
 Look at their dresses: tell us now, 
 
 Ah ! 't is the one with the whitest brow 
 
 He is the haughty baronet's son. 
 
 The other is Reuben, the low-born one. 
 
 Two little children — frolicsome boys — 
 Alike in their griefs, alike in their joys ; 
 One the 3^oung heir of pride and wealth. 
 The other the child of toil and health. 
 
 Beautiful cambric, snowy and white. 
 Homespun linen, clean and bright ; 
 As little these children care for their clothes, 
 As cares for her beauty the wild-wood rose. 
 6 * E 
 
(jQ DEEP IN THE WOOD 
 
 *' Percy, what would your papa say, 
 
 If he knew 3"ou were here in the woods at play 
 
 With little Reuben, the low-born one ? 
 
 You a haughty baronet's son, 
 
 "And your mamma, too!" — '"But didn't you 
 
 know 
 That my mamma died years, years ago ; 
 When I was so tiny I could not speak, 
 And so very young and so very weak ? 
 
 "I cry for my mamma a long, long while, 
 When nurse is cross, and papa won't smile ; 
 There 's no one will play with me home, at all, 
 Because they 're all grown, and I 'm so small. 
 
 "When I go to Reuben, they bring me away, 
 And nurse, and all the servants say 
 That papa would scold, if he were to know 
 That I love to play with Reuben so. 
 
 "But often and often nurse goes out. 
 And when none of the others are watching about, 
 I 'm off to the woods, and Reuben comes too, — 
 But papa would scold, if he only knew. 
 
DEEP IN THE WOOD. 67 
 
 "It's SO pretty here: and so cool and still 
 That I love to come here — and so I will. 
 You can make as much noise as ever you please, 
 And there 's no one to scold and call you a tease. 
 
 "His mother don't like it, — Reuben's, I mean; 
 But to-day she 's not home, and no one has seen. 
 And we're going to stay here more than an hour: 
 But I sha'n't take home with me one wild flower. 
 
 "Because, if I did, then nurse w^ould ask; 
 And, maybe, she 'd give me some long, long task; 
 And then jon can't think how she does scold, 
 She 's so very cross, and so very old. 
 
 "But little Reuben — he loves me so, 
 That he would n't tell — and no one will know. 
 I love to play with him, he 's so good — 
 And I love to be in this beautiful wood. 
 
 " Sometimes we quarrel, but soon forget ; 
 And we 've never been really angry yet. 
 Oh, is n't it cruel for nurse to say 
 That I must not with little Reuben play? 
 
68 DEEP IN THE WOOD. 
 
 " Sometimes I think, it 's because I 'm so small 
 That my papa don't seem to love me at all : 
 But little Reuben — he 's smallei' than me, 
 And his father loves him so tenderly. 
 
 " I would be very happy, I know, 
 If my dear papa would love me so ; 
 But maybe he will when I am a man, 
 And I '11 try to grow just as fast as I can." 
 
 Look at those faces, pure and fair, 
 Look at the beautiful eyes and hair ; 
 Tell us which is the low-born one, 
 Which is the haughty baronet's son ? 
 
 Two little children — frolicsome bo3's — 
 Alike in their griefs, alike in their joys ; 
 What care they for this pride of birth. 
 What care they for the wealth of the earth ? 
 
 Dabbling their feet in each tiny pool. 
 Splashing the water fresh and cool, 
 With never a thought of the after-years 
 That will come to them both, so fraught with 
 fears. 
 
DEEP IX THE WOOD. 69 
 
 "But, Percy, the hour of play is past, 
 And it 's time to hasten home at last ; 
 Pull on the little stockings and shoes, 
 There 's not a sin2:le moment to lose," 
 
 "Just a little while more, a little while more, 
 The wood was never so pretty before, 
 And what do I care if nurse does scold, 
 She 's wicked and ugly, and cross and old. 
 
 "I know it's naughty to call her so. 
 But only Reuben hears me, you know ; 
 Oh ! I forgot, God does, too, 
 But he would n't be angry if he knew. 
 
 " Yet I think he does, for when papa is sad, 
 And there 's nothing at home to make me feel 
 
 glad ; 
 When no one will sing me one little song, 
 And I feel so lonely the whole day long ; 
 
 "I go by myself, and I kneel and pray, 
 
 And you would n't believe all the things I say; 
 
 God never gets tired of listening at all. 
 
 For he 's very patient with great and small. 
 
70 DEEP IX THE WOOD. 
 
 "And after my praying, nurse doesn't scold 
 And she don't seem so very ugly and old ; 
 And papa has kissed me, and softly said, 
 That I look like my mamma, years, years dead." 
 
 Oh the water, the water clear and cool, 
 Could any one drown in that tiny pool ? 
 Little Percy is all alone, 
 And timid little Reuben has gone. 
 
 The sun is going down in the west, 
 And naughty children must soon be at rest ; 
 Oh ! Percy, what will your papa say, 
 And you in the woods here still at play. 
 
 " Just one more flower, just one more flower, 
 It is n't so very much more than an hour ; 
 They '11 know where I 've been; but, papa, I'll say, 
 You can't think how happy I 've been to-day ! " 
 
 Oh the water, the water clear and cool. 
 Could any one drown in that tiny pool ? 
 Little Percy leans over the brink. 
 To take just one more parting drink. 
 
DEEP IX THE WOOD. 71 
 
 All night long in the heart of the wood, 
 Where the mountain rills had silent stood, 
 Men were rushing wildl}^ around, 
 Hundreds of feet were trampling the ground 
 
 Over the day so peaceful and bright. 
 
 Had fallen a dark and terrible night, — 
 
 A night of tempest, a night of cloud, 
 
 With the lightning-flash and the thunder loud-. 
 
 The rain came down so thick and fast. 
 It seemed that the storm forever would last ; 
 But over the tempest high and clear, 
 Rose the voice of the father mad with fear 
 
 Over the tempest high and wild, 
 
 " Give me the body of my child ! " 
 
 But mocking them all, the thunder crashed. 
 
 And the deadly lightning quivered and flashed. 
 
 All that little Reuben could say, 
 
 Was, that he left him still at play, — 
 
 Dipping into the water a flower. 
 
 And saj^ing it was n't much more than an hour 
 
72 DEEP IN THE WOOD. 
 
 But the men who are hurrying round and round, 
 Know full well that the child is drowned ; 
 The tiny pools were clear, but deep 
 And danger lurked in their placid sleep. 
 
 To-night, while the rain and tempest rage, 
 They are curling, and boiling, and bubbling in 
 
 rage; 
 Oh ! that the blinding rain would cease, 
 Oh ! for the daylight's calm and peace. 
 
 Hark I " It is found, — the body is found," 
 Wildly the words go round and round ; 
 How they are weeping, women and men. 
 It 's every one's grief and sorrow then. 
 
 Dear little Percy, winning and bright. 
 Every one loved you that 's here to-night ; 
 Alas ! for the father, all hope and joy 
 Forever have fled with the life of his boy. 
 
 Beautiful eyes, beautiful hair, 
 Beautiful forehead broad and fair, 
 Bare little shoulders, marble cold. 
 Bare little arm^? of loveliest mould. 
 
DEEP IX THE WOOD. 73 
 
 God has taken the Baronet's son, 
 And left the poor and low-born one ; 
 For what to God is this pride of birth, 
 And what to him is the wealth of the earth ? 
 
 Dear little Percy, wayward and sweet, 
 Xever again will your pattering feet 
 Over the wild-wood flowers roam, 
 Truant away from the care of home. 
 
 Ah ! w^hen your sorrowing father said, 
 
 That you looked like your mother, years, j-^ears 
 
 dead, 
 He did not think you would lie on his breast, 
 So soon, so soon in the dreamless rest. 
 
 Oh ! the tiny pools in their placid sleep, 
 Oh ! the treacherous water clear and deep. 
 Dear little Percy weak and small, 
 Xo one to hear your dying call ! 
 
 How 3^ou 've played in that water cool and 
 
 sweet, 
 And splashed it up with your bare white feet, 
 
 7 
 
74 A WALK BY THE SEA 
 
 The beautiful water how cahii it stood, 
 In the very heart of the deep, deep wood. 
 
 Dear little Percy, the after-years 
 Will never for you be fraught with fears ; 
 The hand of the Lord has pressed your brow, 
 And the white-robed angels claim you now. 
 
 % WiMi bg the ^a. 
 
 WITH eager eyes, 
 'Xeath cloudless skies, 
 I walked by the rolling sea ; 
 And the surges rose, and the surges fell, 
 With a mournful melody. 
 To some the voice of the awful deep. 
 That knows no rest, that knows no sleep, 
 May be a dull, unmeaning thing. 
 But to me its echoes ever sing 
 A mournful, mournful melody, 
 4-S if the grandly rolling sea 
 
A WALK BY THE SEA. 75 
 
 Praj'cd for a little rest and peace, — 
 
 Prayed the ebb and the tide to cease, 
 
 Hurrying, rushing to and fro, 
 
 Praying madly in its woe. 
 
 There are hours when each spirit to fahcy kneels, 
 
 When our world new life and love reveals. 
 
 When sweet words are heard in the low-voiced 
 
 breeze, 
 And mystic sound in the rustling trees; 
 At such a time I walked by the sea, 
 And heard its mournful melody, — 
 Heard in its rise, and heard in its fall, 
 A mighty voice and a mighty call, — 
 A call from the depths no mortal may see, 
 From the ocean-bed's deep immensity. 
 " Ah ! they slumber deep, and serene," I said, 
 "Whom the waters cover, the nameless dead; 
 But may not this voice that sounds with the sea. 
 The wail of unquiet spirits be ? 
 I know that the good and true are there, 
 AVhose souls are free from thought and care ; 
 But the pirate and murderer rest side b}^ side. 
 And may not their mourning rise with the tide? " 
 Then I turned away from this thought of sad- 
 ness, * 
 
76 A WALK BY THE SEA. 
 
 And looked up at the sky till I caught its glad- 
 ness. 
 
 " The sky is the floor of Heaven," I said; 
 
 " I wonder if the loved, lost dead 
 
 Who left so long ago the earth, 
 
 "Who wear the crown of immortal birth ; 
 
 I wonder if their angel eyes 
 
 May look down through the radiant skies ; 
 
 If they may indeed, then my little brother, 
 
 Whom I lov^ed with a love that death did not 
 smother ; 
 
 Then may his young eyes look down on me. 
 
 Walking alone by the troubled sea. 
 
 The unknown future lies dark before me, 
 
 Its misty veil is hanging o'er me ; 
 
 But for this I pray, Monarch of Heaven, 
 
 That a crown like his to me be given. 
 
 " Over in the west the sun was setting, 
 
 The waves of the sea with gold all fretting ; 
 
 The last sweet day of Summer was dying. 
 
 Its death-hymn murmured by ocean's sighing. 
 
 The tide was rising to chide my stay, 
 
 I turned from the sea and walked slowly away." 
 
ROWING, rowing, 
 The cool breeze blowing, 
 Coming so SAveet, 
 To soften the heat 
 Of the sun's warm light, 
 Of the sun so bright, 
 While our boat swift and airy, 
 Glides like a fairy 
 On the waters deep, 
 Breaking their sleep. 
 
 Bending, bending, 
 
 The flowers are sending 
 
 Their welcomes o'er, 
 
 From the blooming shore, 
 
 While lilies meek 
 
 Shelter seek 
 
 Where the sun-diamonds quiver, 
 
 Into the river, 
 
 And vainly strive 
 
 'Neath the water to dive. 
 
 Gliding, gliding, 
 
 Where zephyrs are hiding, 
 
 ( 77 ) 
 
78 ox THE RIVER. 
 
 'Neath rocks looking down, 
 'IS'eath rocks that frown, 
 As in shelter made, 
 By their hanging shade, 
 "We look np to the skies. 
 Where the white mountains rise, 
 And see them break through 
 Their bases blue. 
 
 Thus rowing, rowing. 
 Heaven's breeze blowing, 
 Coming so sweet, 
 To soften the heat 
 Of the toilsome strife 
 Of our earthly life ; 
 While angels are bending 
 And ever sending 
 Their welcomes o'er 
 From the Golden Shore. 
 
 Thus gliding, gliding. 
 From the outer world hiding. 
 In the shelter made, 
 By our soul's peaceful shade. 
 
OCTOBER. ' 79 
 
 Looking up to the skies, 
 See God's throne arise, 
 Till our spirit-boat airy, 
 Glides like a fairy, 
 On the waters above, 
 In the Land of Love. 
 
 WE, in the dusty city, 
 Sigh for the summer's bloom ; 
 And we look at the wasted flowers, 
 And think of their lost perfume. 
 
 The autumn winds are calling 
 
 Unto the summer, fled ; 
 And the withered leaves, fast falling, 
 
 Sigh for the roses, dead. 
 
 "Where, oh! sad October, 
 
 Is thy beauty, and thy glow ? — 
 
 Thou'rt gloomier than cold winter, 
 With all its ice and snow." 
 
80 OCTOBER. 
 
 Then grave, old October 
 
 Answers in patient tone : 
 " All my beauty, all my splendor 
 
 Thou hast never known." 
 
 " Show us then, oh ! sad October, — 
 
 And we shall in duty. 
 Bow before thy loveliness. 
 
 And bow before thy beauty." 
 
 Then he leads us far away 
 
 To where wild birds are singing, 
 
 And nature many a gift divine 
 With lavish hand is flinging. 
 
 Then he shows us sights so wondrous 
 In their beauty and their glow. 
 
 That we think of elf-land stories 
 Told us long ago. 
 
 Shows us sunbeams gayly dancing 
 
 In and out the trees, 
 Trees which bend and sway obedient 
 
 To the autumn breeze. 
 
OCTOBER. 83 
 
 Shows us where the sunbeams falling, 
 
 Seem of richer gold ; 
 Seem to make the tinted tree-tops 
 
 Gems of price untold. 
 
 Then we say to old October, 
 
 '' O'er this day the sun hath shone 
 
 With a brighter, rarer brightness 
 Than we e'er before have known." 
 
 But he answers, gravely smiling, 
 " Much I doubt me that your eyes 
 
 In the dusty crowded city 
 
 Scarcely heed the smiling skies." 
 
 Then to us says old October, 
 
 " With the summer hours 
 Fade the roses and the lilies, 
 
 Fair and fleeting flowers. '* 
 
 ' But the dahlias they are with us. 
 
 In their gorgeous splendor ; 
 Are they not as fair to view 
 
 As summer floAvers tender ? " 
 F 
 
82 OCTOBER. 
 
 TheJ he shows us laden vineyards, 
 
 Rich in purple glory ; 
 Like the prince's royal purple 
 
 In the elf-land story. 
 
 Then he points us to the sky 
 
 Where blue and white are blending, 
 
 With crimson tints and streaks of fire, 
 A rarer beauty lending. 
 
 Then we say to old October : 
 
 " Rich indeed thy glory ; 
 Richer than the golden jewels, 
 
 In the elf-land story. 
 
 " Bright thy waving, tinted tree-tops. 
 Bright thy dahlias blooming. 
 
 Sweet the odor of thy grapes, 
 The autumn air perfuming. 
 
 " Sad to us no more, October, 
 
 Here we bow in duty, 
 Bow before thy loveliness. 
 
 And bow before thy beauty." 
 
ARTIST, tell what impulse fired ' 
 Thy pencil, and thy soul inspired 
 With more than earthly skill, to trace 
 Thy Saviour's form \Yith heavenly grace ? 
 Was it of worldly birth ? 
 Or didst thou from the earth 
 Thy gaze uplift, 
 A-iid pray the gift 
 Of inspiration from above 
 To guide thee in thy work of love ? 
 Didst thou in awe mysterious ponder, 
 As o'er the babe's blest form 
 Thy hand did wander? 
 And did the light, seeming to pierce the canvas 
 
 through, 
 Gladden thy vision ? Shine o'er thee, too ? 
 Came to thy heart the peace and joy which cover 
 The forms of those who round the manger hover? 
 And when thou hadst thine easel daily sought. 
 Fled from thy raptured soul all earthly thought? 
 And did thy hand with lingering love still lurk, 
 
 (83) 
 
8.1: THE SLAIN OF THE IRISH BRIGADE. 
 
 O'er the last, last touch of this thy holy work? 
 
 And when the blessed task was o'er, . 
 
 In fancy did thy spirit soar 
 
 Unto the Great Original's throne, 
 
 To dedicate the labor all thine own ? 
 
 And didst thou pray its mission e'er might be, 
 
 From passing sin the gazer's soul to free ? 
 
 Answered the prayer. Who looks upon thy art, 
 
 Feels the "Divinity stir within his heart ; " 
 
 And adds another flower to the bright wreath 
 
 of fame. 
 Circling forever round thy artist-name. 
 
 (ilie f-tuin of the Jrisli ^rijad^. 
 
 THEY lie 'neath the stars so still and cold, 
 Stripling and veteran, young and old. 
 And the moon throws upon them her mystic 
 
 light, 
 Crowning each head with a halo bright. 
 
 Ever anon on the midnight air. 
 Come the groans of the wounded, the sighs of 
 despair, 
 
THE SLAIN OF THE IRISH BRIGADE. 85 
 
 The last gasping words of the widow's boy, 
 And the faintly breathed prayer of the 3^oung 
 wife's joy. 
 
 But mute are their lips, and unlistening their 
 
 ears, 
 Soothed are their sorrows, and quenched are 
 
 their tears ; 
 Calmly they sleep in the arms of death, 
 Clasping the flag which they loved as their 
 
 breath. 
 
 'Never again will their lips still and pale, 
 With loud shouts of welcome their brave leader 
 
 hail, 
 Xo more will they march in proud victory's path. 
 No more will the rebel bewail their strong wrath. 
 
 Xobly they stood at the head of the fight, 
 From the dawning of morn till the coming of 
 
 night ; 
 Then laid their bleeding forms down on the 
 
 plain, 
 Never, ah ! never, to raise them again 
 
86- THE SLAIN OF THE lEISH BRIGADE. 
 
 Forgot are the wrongs which they suffered in 
 
 life, 
 Forever they rest from the world's weary strife, 
 Xo more will their proud Irish spirits be torn 
 By harsh, cruel words of ingratitude born. 
 
 Calmly they sleep in the arms of death, 
 Wrapped in the flag which they loved as their 
 
 breath. 
 Still in their cold hands the keen sword the}^ 
 
 grasp. 
 Close to their bosoms the shamrock they clasp. 
 
 Hard was your portion, and cruel your fate. 
 
 Victims of calumny, envy and hate. 
 
 Stout were your hearts and true, strong were 
 
 your blades. 
 Peace to your ashes ! rest to your shades ! 
 
OH mother, when with thy sorrow alone, 
 Thy heart goes forth with a wailing moan, 
 To thy darling who sleeps in a soldier's tomb. 
 Forever safe from the battle-gloom. 
 When thy voice cries out in anguish wild, 
 For thy pride and jo}", thy first-born child ; 
 When presses upon thee that weight of woe, 
 That only a mother-heart can know; 
 When o'er thy grief sets the summer sun, 
 And thy soul still yearns for the absent one : 
 Go forth in the night, and upward raise 
 To the glowing heavens thy aching gaze, 
 Thou wilt see a new star shining on high, 
 Gleaming and sparkling in the sky : 
 'Tis the light of his glory that flames so bright, 
 Falling upon thy soul's dark night ; 
 The anthems of God his spirit now sings, 
 And in Paradise flutter his angel-wings, 
 And oh ! when such joy and bliss divine 
 Rest on the boy, canst thou repine ? 
 Yet if still thy heart will no solace receive, 
 And if still thy grief finds no reprieve, 
 
 (87) 
 
eO TO A MOTHER. 
 
 Lay thy head on thy pillow and dream, 
 And let the present the future seem ; 
 Then will the glory of Jesus' love, 
 Guide thee up to his Kingdom above, 
 And in dreams amid the seraph band, 
 Thou shalt clasp thy loved one's holy hand. 
 When free from the earth and its fierce turmoils, 
 Thou wilt rest from its grief and rest from its 
 
 toils ; 
 When over thy son and over thee 
 Shall murmur the leaves of the blessed tree. 
 And with him in joy thou shalt dwell forever 
 In that Land where no death your souls can 
 
 dissever ; 
 Thus let all else be to thee as a dream, 
 To-night let the present the future seem. 
 Then will thy heart in the dawn of the morrow, 
 Be free from its burden of woe and sorrow. 
 And gladly thou 'It list to the happy mirth 
 Of the children who still smile around thy 
 
 hearth. 
 And peaceful thy life thou wilt journey o'er. 
 Till thou bidst farewell to the earthly shore. 
 And on pinions from Heaven upward rise. 
 To the plain where the Blessed City lies. 
 
STARS OF heave:n". 89 
 
 Knocking in fear at the pearly gate, 
 Trembling and hoping for thy fate ; 
 Leaving behind thee thine earthly sin, 
 As the angels bid thee to enter in, 
 And pressing near to Jehovah's throne, 
 T'^ou wilt call the lost once more thine own. 
 
 FAR above us, far on high, 
 Shining, sparkling in the sky. 
 See the stars of heaven beaming, 
 See the lights of glory gleaming. 
 And their bright yet mellowed splendor 
 Falls on us so calmly tender, 
 That we lowly mortals ponder \ 
 On the deep mysterious Wonder, 
 By whose might and will divine. 
 These His stars and planets shine 
 
 Unto hearts bowed down by sadness, 
 ]>ring theyjo}' and bring they gladness; 
 8* 
 
90 STARS OF HEAVEN. 
 
 And the pilgrim journeying lonely, 
 On his pathway craveth only 
 That the stars their light may throw 
 O'er his darkened path below ; 
 And he lifts his soul above, 
 Praising God, by whose great love 
 Shine these glories on our earth, 
 Tokens of a purer birth. 
 
 Stars of Heaven ! 
 Ye are leaven 
 To the Aveary sinner's soul. 
 For your silent twinkling laughter 
 Seems to say a blest hereafter, 
 Man of troubles, man of sin, 
 By much patience thou mayst win, 
 Bliss surpassing that of earth, 
 Joy divine and angel's mirth. 
 
ghc ^traiilit fatli. 
 
 " Many things are difficult and dark to me," said Maggie, '' but one 
 thing I see quite clearly, that I must not, cannot seek my own happi- 
 ness by sacrificing others." — Mill on the Floss. 
 
 ^^TjlROM the splendor of your love, 
 -i- Unto me some brightness give, 
 
 Let me 'neath your eyes' dark glance 
 Forever live." 
 
 "I have prayed, and through my praying. 
 
 See the path before me clear, 
 I shall tread that path unfearing. 
 
 Though it be all dark and drear," 
 
 " Sad and troubled, wayward Maggie, 
 
 Hath thy young life been. 
 Dost thou think a happy future 
 
 Would be sin ? " 
 
 "Nay, and if to me 'twere given, 
 
 With thy life to live. 
 All the sorrowing past would leave me. 
 
 In the joy thy voice would give." 
 
 "Child, the future lies before thee, 
 With the joy that thou dost name, 
 
 (91) 
 
92 THE STKAIGHT PATH. 
 
 Let me then in truth implore thee, 
 Let me then thy future claim." 
 
 "High and bright the star of duty 
 Shines upon my troubled heart, 
 
 Talk not of the future's beauty, 
 We must part." 
 
 "Never, never God has given 
 
 Thee to me, 
 No more struggling, no more sorrow, 
 
 Thy young life shall see." 
 
 " Could 1 live in joy and gladness. 
 From the hearts of others torn ? 
 
 All cannot be gloom and sadness. 
 While I cheer that life forlorn." 
 
 "Shall thy life, so full of beauty. 
 
 Unto his dull life be given ? 
 Shall our lives in fancied duty 
 
 Be forever riven ? '* 
 
 " Call it not a fancied duty. 
 
 When I to a life forlorn 
 Would give some of strength and beauty, 
 
 By my own sad past I 've sworn." 
 
THE STEAIGHT PATH. 93 
 
 "Wilt thou then, to cheer his life, 
 
 Cloud mine own with gloom, 
 And give to dark deformity 
 
 Thy life's young bloom ? " 
 
 " At the Judgment he shall stand 
 
 Before the throne. 
 With form unbent, and arm as strong, 
 
 As are thine own." 
 
 "Thou art stronger far than me, 
 
 I give thee up, 
 And to the last, last dregs 
 
 I drain ' this bitter cup.' " 
 
 He is weak, thou art strong. 
 He would fall 'neath sorrow, 
 
 But thou wilt proudly lift thy head 
 And smile to-morrow. 
 
 Nay; and though I smile no more, 
 
 Yet will I not repine ; 
 He hath thy life on earth, 
 
 Thy life in Heaven is mine. 
 
PEARLS as pure as the fallen snow, 
 Shedding their clear rich white, 
 Over the ruby's dazzling glow, 
 And emerald's sea-green light. 
 
 Rings of rich and massive gold, 
 
 Studded with jewels rare. 
 Jewels of richness scarce to be told. 
 
 That only the proud may wear. 
 
 Coral glowing in scarlet splendor. 
 
 And coral white and clear. 
 And the amethyst's light so softly tender, 
 
 Mingles its beauty near. 
 
 Diamonds that vie with the stars of night, 
 
 In almost unearthly gleam, 
 Brilliants that seem almost as bright 
 
 Under the gaslight's beam. 
 
 (94 
 
higher! 95 
 
 Under the gaslight's beam 
 
 The jewels' splendors gleam ; 
 But is it truth or fancy only, 
 
 To say that to-night they look strangely lonely. 
 
 Do^Yn in the silent room below, 
 
 The gaslight's softened beam 
 Falls o'er a face as white as snow, 
 
 A jewel which ne'er again will gleam. 
 
 And the other jewels are lone and sad, 
 
 With no bright queen jewel to make them glad. 
 
 They Avill never glow near a jewel so bright, 
 As that which hath ceased to shine to-night. 
 
 iicjltcii! 
 
 "Come up higher,' cried the ange's.' 
 
 IN the glowing, glorious cloud-land, where the 
 golden sun is sinking, 
 Revels all my soul exultant, of that glory inward 
 
 drinking. 
 
HIGHER 
 
 Oh the untold, unseen radiance, from our yearn- 
 ing vision hidden ; 
 
 Oh ! the joy beyond the cloud-land, unto which 
 God's own are bidden. 
 
 How the earthly vanishes before the high and 
 
 heavenly blessing 
 Of the peacefulness of those who unto God are 
 
 onward pressing. 
 
 Oh ! the fading of the joy that we are from the 
 
 earthly borrowing ; 
 Oh ! the petty strifes and quarrels making us so 
 
 sad and sorrowing. 
 
 How we, in our daily life, speak cruelly of one 
 
 another ; 
 How we turn away from him, — our erring, yet 
 
 repentant brother. 
 
 And the gold we make our idol, sinning for it 
 
 all unblushing ; 
 Underneath their holy feet, God's own elect in 
 
 Heaven are crushing. 
 
piigherI 97 
 
 For we know the streets of Heaven are of gold 
 and jewels gleaming, 
 
 Growing brighter in the glory, from the angel- 
 faces streaming. 
 
 Oh ! the holiness of those who round the throne 
 
 of God are singing ; 
 Oh ! the happiness of those who up to God their 
 
 flight are winging. 
 
 But our earthly duties call us, and we look aAvay 
 
 from Heaven ; 
 What if in our sins we perish, unprepared, and 
 
 unforgiven ? 
 
 " Grant me something higher, purer,'-- cries my 
 
 spirit, w^eak and fainting, 
 "Let me turn away from this, that all my inner 
 
 life is tainting." 
 
 But I feel the yearning comes not from a love 
 
 of something higher; 
 And I know the love of God does not my sinful 
 
 heart inspire. 
 
98 HIGHER ! 
 
 Rather from a nameless sorrow, — from a sorrow 
 
 all regretful, 
 Wishing to be happier, happier, yet of Gocl and 
 
 Heaven forgetful. 
 
 If I thought that God would give me all I hope 
 
 and pray for daily, — 
 If I thought that I might sing the song of life 
 
 forever gail}^ ; 
 
 Would I have this troubled yearning, would I 
 have this vain repining, — 
 
 Clinging ever to my life, and all its purpose in- 
 terlining? 
 
 From my soul, that starts and trembles at the 
 
 thought of pain and trial; 
 From my soul, all dim with doubting, comes the 
 
 faint and sad denial. 
 
 Oh! my 'God, lift, lift the shadow, take away 
 
 the vain repining, 
 Let me feel thy sacred presence, all my inner 
 
 life refining. 
 
TO GOD AND HIS CONSCIENCE. 99 
 
 If I ask for something higher, let it he from love 
 
 of Heaven ; 
 Xot because I long for more of carthl}" joy than 
 
 thou hast given. 
 
 Let the future, stronger, truer, all my past life 
 
 reprimanding, 
 Be replete with this my prayer, " The peace 
 
 that passeth understanding." 
 
 S'o (Bo(t and his Confidence. 
 
 to-niffht, I told vou, I had for- 
 
 OXE year ago 
 given you. 
 
 That all the lonely years of your sorrowful, 
 penitent manhood 
 
 Had expiated the sin of your wicked and reck- 
 less youth. 
 
 You asked me then, to tell about her sad death- 
 bed. 
 
 T tried, but I could not ; 'twas one of those times 
 when mem'ry 
 
 Thrills us with deadly pain, and to dwell on the 
 past is maddening. 
 
100 TO GOD AND HIS CONSCIENCE. 
 
 To-night I am calm and strong : I will tell you 
 
 of that sad hour 
 When all the joy of my early manhood faded 
 
 forever. 
 
 Come out with me, Herbert, into the cool, still 
 
 evening ; 
 Leave the gay throng with its wearying, cease- 
 less confusion ; — 
 In there, I could not speak the words you will 
 
 hear me utter. 
 For some might overhear us, murmur as low as 
 
 we would. 
 And under the gaslight, I could not look at the 
 
 pain in your eyes. 
 But the moonlight softens all things, and 't will 
 
 soften that, you know. 
 Herbert, one year ago to-night, the bond of 
 
 silence was broken, 
 The bond that held us asunder for so many long, 
 
 long years, — 
 At which our friends so wondered, and talked of, 
 
 and guessed at. 
 But few of them ever knew the reason why you 
 
 and I, 
 
TO GOD AXD HIS CONSCIENCE. 101 
 
 Once the clearest of friends, should be the bit- 
 terest foes. 
 
 I was bound by my sacred promise to one 
 departed, 
 
 And you, in your shame and remorse, have 
 guarded the secret faithfully. 
 
 Remorse, I say; for I know that you suffered, 
 Herbert, 
 
 Repenting your sin with bitter, bitter repent- 
 ance. 
 
 But all your remorse, and my grief, could not 
 bring back unto life 
 
 The maiden whom you and I loved — but with 
 love that so widely differed : 
 
 You with a selfish, selfish love that destroj^ed 
 her ; 
 
 But I, with a love that was faithful and true till 
 her death. 
 
 O Herbert ! Herbert ! had you the soul of a 
 
 Christian, 
 That you could take this girl and brand her life 
 
 with your sin ? — 
 Child in look, and almost a child in years, lonely, 
 
 an orphan, 
 
 9* 
 
102 TO GOD AND HIS CONSCIENCE. 
 
 Betrothed linto me, the friend of your boyhood 
 
 and manhood ; 
 Young and so pure, I gave her into your charge, 
 And you promised to shield her from evil ; for 
 
 with her loveliness rare, 
 And her poor and lonely station, I thought that 
 
 harm might come, 
 She was so guileless and trusting. 
 
 God ! does not the sin of her ruin rest upon 
 me as on you ? 
 
 How she clung to me, tearful and trembling, 
 praying me never to leave her, 
 
 "With that prophetic fear in her sorrowful, beau- 
 tiful eyes. 
 
 But I smiled at the fear, and chided the pas- 
 sionate sobbing, 
 
 And told her it griev^ed me to see her so weak 
 and so childish. 
 
 Then she lifted those dark, sad eyes, trying to 
 smile on me, 
 
 Looking so young and so helpless, so fair and so 
 helpless. 
 
 That I cursed the bitter fate that was driving 
 me from her, 
 
TO GOD AND HIS CONSCIEXCE. 103 
 
 To seek the gold that would afterwards give me 
 
 the power 
 To call her my wife, in a happy home that was 
 
 worthy her. 
 
 God knows, I thought it was best ; she was so 
 
 young, so young — 
 I could not make her my wife and drag her down 
 
 to my poverty. 
 'T was but a few short years, I said to her, 
 
 lightly and gaily, 
 Then I would come to her, finding her older, 
 
 more womanly : 
 Three short years, and our happiness would be 
 
 completed. 
 All the more perfect, because we had trusted 
 
 and waited. 
 And so I left her, — I left her with soul that fore- 
 saw not the evil. 
 The terrible evil that came to her lonely, and 
 
 loving and trusting. 
 
 Herbert ! Herbert ! in the long months that I 
 
 waited. 
 Toiling, and hoping, and praying for that which 
 
 was never to come to me : 
 
104 TO GOD AXD HIS COXSCIEXCE. 
 
 The blessed, blessed joy of our marriage by 
 great love perfected ; — 
 
 Did I think of my friend — of my brother, crush- 
 ing the noble and lofty ? 
 
 Letting that part of his nature which links us to 
 sin and to d6ath, 
 
 Rise supreme over that which is like unto Christ 
 our Redeemer, 
 
 Until to his soul, all "dwarfed and distorted "by 
 evil, 
 
 The temptings of Satan came softly, and were 
 not rejected ! 
 
 Oh! her letters, her letters — her childish, inno- 
 cent letters ; — 
 
 You were so kind, so kind, — and she wrote it 
 over so often, 
 
 That sometimes I felt a strange, strange pang 
 shoot through me, 
 
 A nameless fear that my darling was drifting 
 away from me. 
 
 And in those terrible moments all the love of 
 my manhood 
 
 Rose up and pleaded to see her with passionate, 
 passionate pleading. 
 
TO GOD AND HIS CON-SCIEXCE. 105 
 
 At last the letters grew changed. I felt it dimly 
 
 at first : 
 And now the burden was " she was not w^orthy — 
 
 not worthy ; " 
 And she wrote it over so oft that my soul grew 
 
 dark with suspicion. 
 Then came a silence, a long and unexplained 
 
 silence, 
 Until at last, when I felt I could bear it no 
 
 longer, 
 I left the scene of that anxious and torturing 
 
 sorrow, 
 And trav-elled by day and night, in hope to 
 
 reach her the sooner. 
 
 Gone, gone — no one could tell me whither ! — 
 Fled in the dark of night, ruined, friendless, for- 
 saken ! 
 
 Herbert, I sometimes think I am not yet for- 
 given, 
 
 Although I repented in sorrow, the blasphemous 
 words which I uttered 
 
 Against God's sacred name, in the days when I 
 searched for my darling. 
 
106 TO GOD AND HIS CONSCIENCE. 
 
 I found her at last, at last : but I found her 
 dying, 
 
 With all her bright 3'oung bloom departed for- 
 ever. 
 
 When her great dark eyes looked up with their 
 love and penitence, 
 
 I felt the strength of my manhood all forsaking 
 me, 
 
 And could but weep : weep, with the tears of my 
 anguish 
 
 Falling upon the sweet young face that was 
 pleading and praying forgiveness. 
 
 I might have written reproaches — burning, scath- 
 ing reproaches ; 
 
 But with those beautiful eyes fixed on my face 
 so imploring, 
 
 I could but murmur a pardon, mingled with ter- 
 rible curses, 
 
 Terrible threats of my vengeance on him who 
 had stricken my darling. 
 
 Then she rose up weeping, and twining her arms 
 
 around me 
 With all the gathered strength of the life that 
 
 was ebbing away from her, 
 
TO GOD AND HIS CONSCIENCE. 107 
 
 "Promise me this," she said, "or I cannot rest 
 
 in the church-yard : 
 Say that you will not harm him, — I too was 
 
 erring and sinful, 
 Doubting your love, and questioning why you 
 
 should leave me. 
 Look at me now : you know I will soon cease to 
 
 trouble you ; 
 Do not refuse me this last, last prayer I will 
 
 make to you : 
 Say you will leave him to God — to God and his 
 
 conscience." 
 And with her little hands holding me fast, as if 
 
 she feared the denial, 
 I promised to leave you to God — to God and 
 
 your conscience. 
 
 Herbert ! Herbert ! could you have seen her 
 
 when she w^as dying, — 
 And she so feared to die with her sin yet resting 
 
 upon her, — 
 Clinging and clinging unto me, and racking my 
 
 soul with such anguish 
 That streaks of gray came into my hair that 
 
 night — 
 
108 TO GOD AND HIS, CONSCIENCE. 
 
 That darkest of nights ; when I felt that the joy 
 
 of my manhood 
 "Was silently, silently gliding away in its beauty 
 
 Then came a frantic hope, that she might be 
 
 spared to me, 
 Spared for the happier years of a stronger and 
 
 purer w^omanhood. 
 "Live ! live ! " I cried, " in the face of the world 
 
 and its scorning. 
 I take you unto my heart, my wife, my wife till 
 
 eternity." 
 
 She answered me not. I scarcely think that she 
 heard me. 
 
 I thought she was dead ; and I wept in my des- 
 olate sorrow. 
 
 But the dark eyes opened once more, imploring, 
 penitent, loving. 
 
 I bent and kissed her forehead ; — she lifted her 
 w^asted hands upward p 
 
 And praying her God to forgive her — forgive 
 her — forgive her. 
 
 Her soul went out to that merciful God's eternity.