Early Writing in Canada
Poetry of the Heart
30th Aug 2022Posted in: Early Writing in Canada, R. A. Chaplein 0

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POETRY OF THE HEART.

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POETRY OF THE HEART;

OR,

THOUGHTS FROM THE SOUL:

TOGETHER WITH

VERSES ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

BY R. A. CHAPLEIN.


SAINT JOHN, N. B.

PRINTED BY J. & A. McMILLAN.

1872.

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ERRATA

LOCATION

ERROR

Page 18, Line 16.7

Woefully is written as ‘wofully.’

Page 19, Line 18.5

Than should be then.

Page 26, Line 3.4

He writes ‘flowers and fragrant grow.’ What is he referring to?

Page 29, Line 14.2

“Neath” should have an apostrophe at the beginning.

Page 32, Line 5.10

Giant gap between discover and smile in the original text. Unsure if smile is meant to be there; ‘smile’ also has one bracket before it.

Page 34, Line 7.5

The word ‘filled’ is incorrectly accented.

Page 44, Line 9.4

The word ‘weird’ is misspelled.

Page 52, 16.13

Same error with Page 32. Alone has one bracket before it.

Page 56, Line 12.4

‘Woful’ should be ‘woeful.’

Page 58, Line 6.2

‘Cirrous’ should be ‘cirrus’

Page 59, Line 14.6

‘Woful’

Page 67, Line 7.8

‘Jasmine’ is misspelled as ‘Jasamine.’

Page 72, Line 10.6

‘Portray’ is misspelled as ‘pourtray.’

Page 73, Line 14.9

Single bracketed [heal. Perhaps meant to be in the following line?

Page 80, Line 23.4

‘Wofulness’ is misspelled.

Page 94, Line 13.6, 13.7

‘Bleached’ is accented. ‘Corse’ is misspelled- possibly corpse?

Page 95, Line 26.1

Incorrect usage of ‘there.’ Should be ‘their’, perhaps.

Page 116, Line 13.7

‘Rememberance’ is misspelled. Should be ‘Remembrance.’

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[handwritten: PS8455]

[handwritten: H38P6]                                                                                                            70368

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TO THE READER.


    This little book having been published under many disadvantages, you are asked not to be too hasty in condemning or casting it aside. Several errors have crept into it, which I did not perceive until it was too late to remedy them. My excuse is that having my business to attend to, I was not able [illegible] times to give that attention to correcting the proofs that I would have desired.

      At some future time I hope to present you with a volume more worthy your acceptance.

                                                                                   

                                                                                                     Respectfully,

                                                                                                                             THE AUTHOR.

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CONTENTS.


 

Page

The Love of a Mother

9

To Emeline

10

I Remember, I Remember

11

Beautiful Woman

14

Hark! It is the Midnight Clock

15

Farewell

17

Despair and Death

18

To Maud

22

Gossamer

23

There is a Land of Love and Peace

25

Anonyma

27

Twilight’s Falling Love

28

Go to God and tell your Woe

30

O forgive me Sweet One, my warm passion revealing

31

Florrie

32

I saw Her skipping in the Lawn

33

I am thinking of Thee

35

Outcast and Alone

36

To Thee, my Own

39

All Alone

41

The Lonely One

42

The Spectre

43

Breathe not her Name

46

Sonnets

47

O let me Die, my heart is worn

48

Foreboding

49

I know a Star that brightly shines

50

Sorrowing

51

Never shall we meet again

53

My Heart is sad and weary

54

Down in the Dell

57

Come where the Blue-bells grow

58

Woe is me

59

Forsaken

60

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Page

Farewell Mother

63

St. Clare’s Lonely Fountain

64

I Remember a Face that I loved to behold

66

Sylvan is dancing with Fay

67

To Jennie

68

Meditating Death

70

In the Cold World

73

At the Grave

74

He never can forgive Me

75

O Darkest Soul

76

Gone to Decay

78

It was the hour of parting, Love

79

The Evening Star is weeping

82

I feel it would be sweet to die

83

Sonnet

85

Binnar and Emily

85

Lillie Vaughan

89

O Kiss me Mother ere I die

91

My Sailor Girl

92

The Haunted Cave

94

The Hermit’s Meditation

101

Again must the Tear fall in Sorrow and Sadness

109

Sonnet

110

She cometh to the Grave

111

We Parted Forever

112

O meet me, sweet Nellie, to-night in the Dell

113

Sonnets

114

I had a Flower in the Garden of Love

115

A Sigh and a Tear

117

The Maid of Chelsea

119

To Maggie

120

Death

121

The Adventures of Bun

122

My Love lies down in the deep dark sea

127

Gone

128

[page viii]

CHAPLEIN’S POEMS.


THE LOVE OF A MOTHER.

WE may roam throughout life, and kind friends may abound;

We may share of their love as they circle us round,

But in no other friend can such fondness be found

As there lives in the breast of a mother.

There infixed in her heart, it is truthful and pure,

’T is a love that no charm has the power to allure;

Friends and fortune my fail, but that love will endure,—

The fond love in the heart of a mother.

Ah! the lover shall change, and the trusted shall fall;

And the one we most cherish shall hand us the gall;

But there yet shall remain, sweetly beaming o’er all,

The kind, cheering, fond love of a mother.

If there is aught of Heaven retained on this earth;

If one thing may soar high o’er all others in worth;

If aught ever was breathed on by God at its birth,

’T is the deep, holy love of a mother. [unnumbered page]

Though the tempest may rage and the clouds gather low;

Though the thunder my roll as we pall ’neath our woe;

There is always a haven to which we can go,

And rest safe in the heart of a mother.

When we’re sickly and ailing, or weary and lone,

And the friends whom we loved have all left us and gone,

O how calm we repose if our wants are looked on

By the soft, gentle care of a mother!


TO EMELINE

    I LOVE thee, aye, my sweetest Emeline,

With all the fondness of a faithful heart,

The deep sincerity of an honest soul,

The genial fervour and the kindliness

Of an unswerving, ever-truthful spirit,

And th’ longing and the deep emotion fond

Of one who will most dearly cherish thee.

    Say thou art mine: my life will then be fair

And bright before me; care shall vanish, save

To care for thee, and I shall feel a bliss,

Such as high Heaven reserves alone for those

Who truly love.   And when the Angels fair,

Shall call thee to thy meet and proper home, [page 10]

And thy sweet, kindly soul shall pass away,

This life will be too lone for me to bear,

And I will join thee in that fadeless land.

    But say thou no, and O an awful gloom

Will darken o’er my sad and aimless life:

A languor and a listlessness will droop

My heart’s blood to its lowest ebb; and vice

And ruin dire, will damn my soul, alas!

For I will die a rash and early death.

Believe me, O believe me, for my soul

Doth harbour not a base nor mean intent,

But this the sighing of my heart, sweet one,

Is but the breathing of my spirit, true

That fain would win the object of its choice.


I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER

I REMEMBER, I remember,

            It is many years ago,

We were sitting in the valley

            Where the brook meanders slow;

And the birds were singing sweetly

            O’er the calm and tranquil lea,

When he told me that he loved me

            And would live alone for me.

Then my heart was young and supple

            As the bough upon the tree, [page 11]

When he told me that he loved me

            And would live alone for me.

I remember, I remember,

            How I felt the power of love,

When he pressed me to his bosom

            As he vowed to Heaven above,

That he would not cause me sorrow,

            But would be so true to me;

O I gave my heart unto him,

            And his love I said I’d be.

Then my heart was young and supple

            As the bough upon the tree,

When he told me that he loved me

            And would live alone for me.

I remember, I remember,

            How he left me all alone,

Through the cruel world to wander

            Amongst strangers and unknown;

Without love and without pity,

            Without spark of manly care;

O my heart was filled with sorrow

            For he left me in despair.

O my heart was young and supple

            As the bough upon the tree,

When he told me that he loved me

            And would live alone for me. [page 12]

I remember, I remember

            How I felt the bitter pain,

When I realised the thought

            That we should never meet again!

O my heart did sink within me,

            And I palled beneath the woe,

That was crushing down upon me,

            For I had nowhere to go!

Ah! my heart was young and supple

            As the bough upon the tree,

When he told me that he loved me

            And would live alone for me.

I remember, I remember

           I was cast away from home;

With the brand of Cain upon me

           In disgrace and shame to roam;

Not a friend to soothe nor cheer me,

           O ’t was more than I could bear,

But I found a Friend in Heaven,

           And besought His holy care.

O my heart was young and supple

           As the bough upon the tree,

When he told me that he loved me

           And would live alone for me. [page 13]

BEAUTIFUL WOMAN

                       

I HAVE seen woman’s cheek, like the freshness of Spring,

    When no pain nor languishing grief hath imbrued it;

When the warm flush of sweetness about it doth cling;

As the cherub of beauty first opens its wing,

    And no sorrowing, sad, lonely tear hath bedewed it.

I have seen woman grown to her beautiful bloom,

    With a deep holy calm on her countenance beaming;

When no frown of discomfort nor shadow of gloom,

Nor no sad disappointment hath spoken her doom,

    Nor a sigh hath yet marred the fond hope of her dreaming.

I have marked the fair form as the sweet blushing rose,

    And as pure and as true as the light of the morning;

As gentle and fair as the lily that grows

When the zephyrs sing soft in their silent repose,

    On the calm mountain side or the valley adorning. [page 14]

I have seen woman’s cheek like the autumnal leaf

    When the blast cutteth chill and the Summer’s a-dying;

As she bears the wan tone which betokens the grief,

O that deep inward pang which has never relief,

    Of the lover forlorn when she’s sorrowful sighing.

O thou beautiful, beautiful, beautiful form!

    How thou soothest man’s heart when his life groweth dreary;

If the lover, to yield him the sweets of thy charm;

If the wife, to be cheered by her tenderness warm;

    Or the mother to bless when forsaken and weary.


HARK! IT IS THE MIDNIGHT CLOCK.

I.

            Hark! It is the midnight clock

                  Telling out the time!

            ’Long a river winding near;

            Skirting round the silver’d mere:

            Through the woodlands you may hear

            Bearing on its tongue so clear

                  The record of a crime!

            Lo!   He standeth smeared with blood

                  In the silent glade!

            Where the moon is shining bright, [page 15]

            Calm and tranquil o’er the night:

            Reeking in the pallid light

                  Gleams the fatal blade!

            “Ah, ‘t is done!” he silent breathes,

                  “It is ended now!

            Calm and still thou liest there;

            All thy beauty, rich and rare,

                  Dieth with thy vow!”

            See, he falleth piercéd through!

                  Gasping faint and low:
           “Clara, Clara! thus we die!

            Endeth thus my agony;

                  Endeth thus my woe!”

II.

            Hark!   It is the midnight clock!

                  Telling out the time!

            O’er the moor and through the wold;

            Lingering in the starry cold;

            Echoing back from fence to fold;

            Telling the time it oft hath told;

                  Fell record of a crime!

            See a maid in yonder dell,

                  White as mountain snow!

            See her breast, as marble, bare!

            See the blood that’s issuing there!

            See how ghastly, yet how fair!

                  Hear her notes of woe! [page 16]

            List!   It is a whisper soft,

                  Ghostly, hollow, lone!

            “Allan! Allan! weep for me!

            Allan! Allan! weep for me!”

                  Thus she makes her moan.

            Now she paces, full of rage,

                  Wildly to and fro:

            Running, shrieking with a yell—

            “Allan! Allan! down to hell!

                  To woe! to woe! to woe!”


FAREWELL!

FAREWELL for ever, for ever farewell;

My heart is cold and my love is dead.

No passionate feelings this bosom swell;

No more my soul its bliss may tell;

Hope has departed and fondness fled.

Farewell for ever, for ever farewell.

    And why this change, so sad and strange?

The love that I proffered has sickened and died.

It wanted thy smile, thine attention the while,

For ever and solely with thee to abide.

So warm and so pure, it could not endure,

Thy cold, chilling breath, O it fell to decay.

How often it strove in thee fondness to move!

Till now it has gone, it has faded away.

Farwell for ever, for ever farewell. [page 17]

DESPAIR AND DEATH.

LOUISE, farewell, I feel my reason fast

Declining, and thou, sweetest form, whom I

So dearly love, ere long will be to me

As one unknown. Hope now I’ve none, though thou

My darling and my sweet Louise, aye thou

Hast been my stay, the glory for which I

Have striven long and hard.   Mine is the blame

May be, I did not wed thee years agone,

And take thee to the humble sphere that Fate

Allots to me on earth.   My pretty love,

‘T is sad, and keen and sore I feel the pang

Deep gnawing at my inmost soul.   Ah me!

Thy grief is full;   I will not ask thy tears

To stay, for ‘t would but be a mockery

Of Nature’s purest feeling.   I’d say hope,

But hope has faded slow yet wofully

Away, and left thee but the chilling blast;

The foul and deadly atmosphere of deep

Misfortune, in which thou must doleful breathe

This glimmer of dull life now all alone.

    I feel the end approaching, and the fell

Diseased imaginings of frenzied dreams

O’ercrowd my better sense, and soon, alas!

If death do not remove this weight of woe,

I’ll be put as a poor demented thing [page 18]

In visions battling with my fate.   But, ah!

Unconscious of thy sweet and tender care.

O how it touches deep into my heart

To see those weeping eyes— so full of soul—

In th’ beaming rays of which I used to bask

My sweetest hopes, now sending forth a stream

That gushes from the fountains of thy love!

Those holy guardians of peace and joy!

Once beaming forth as like two heavenly stars

A beauteousness and love that did outdream

My fond imaginings of heavenly bliss.

    O do not take the smart too keen, my love,

If I do call to mind that sweetest time

When thou hadst used to play upon my cheeks

In amorous fondness with thy golden hair,

As I did sweetly on thy breast recline

And tell the beating of thy gentle heart.

That was a time, than which the earth shall yield

To true and loving souls no deeper bliss.

    A woman’s love, methinks, is th’ richest gift

Of God to man: it soothes his soul, and balms

The wounds that deep are there: it strengtheneth him

In sickness and in sorrow, mars the pain

That deep into the heart doth find its way.

It cheers him in his deep distress, and beams

Upon him in the lonely hours of dire

Adversity its holy influence. [page 19]

My sweet Louise, death’s closing o’er my eyes;

I scarce can see the outline of thy face:

Press closer, love, I cannot hear thy voice:

Thy soft hand place in mine, and let me feel

The sweet, warm influence of thy gentle pulse

Give quicker motion to my sluggish veins.

O wipe this chilly sweat from off my brow,

And fold my head within thy loving arms;

And give me, if thou canst, to know that thou

Art with me still.   And now as her I lie

Upon a bed of death, Louise, I see

The hollowness of all our earthly hopes

And youthful aspirations.   It is here

Our minds revert to all that we have done,

To what we’ve aimed to do, and what we’ve failed

In doing.   Each little fault comes full before

Our eyes, and every stain upon our souls

Doth make us shrink and pall beneath our guilt.

    Louise, my love, this world is but a school

In which we’ve placed to learn our way to Heaven.

We have not all a flowery path to tread,

But all alike may free partake of God’s

Paternal care.   The body oft indeed

May suffer many bitter ills and pains,

But then, sweet one, as like the plant that feeds

Upon the dross of life, so too the soul,

In deep and meditative prayer, receives

Its strength from Heaven when touched with grief or deep [page 20]

Remorse of sin.   Or when adversity

Doth shut us up from all our earthly friends,

We cling the more tenaciously to His

Kind promises, and His unfailing love.

The soul needs strict and ever guarded care,

And ah, unless these bitter trials and ills

Of life were sent, our Father’s tender love

We should neglect, and then we sure would die.

    The visions that have danced before our eyes

Are but as like the image that doth mock

Our better sense.   We’ll meet again in Heaven,

And at the dawning of that brighter day,

Methinks that our new life will be as th’ Spring

That comes when all the dreary Winter’s past.

We’ll know no sorrow there, and with our hearts

Made clean, our new-born souls will calmly rest

And soft recline upon the downy bed

Of an unending and eternal peace.

    Upon me breathe yet once again, my dear,

The sweetness of thy soul; and let me feel

Again the touch of thy sweet tender breath

Upon my cheek; and as I fondly press

Thy throbbing heart unto my wounded breast,

O kiss me, and my anxious soul will fly

Away as free and light as air, buoyed up

And nurtured by the sweetness of thy love. [page 21]

TO MAUD

BEAUTIFUL Maud, with beautiful hair,

So like a Fairy, debonair;

Darting from out thy rolling eyes

Fond rays of love I pay with sighs.

Bright as the star that shines above,

Beaming to earth its smiles of love;

O how can my fond love forbear

To feel in love with one so fair?

Would it were mine to woo and press

Thy blooming cheeks with fond caress;

And feel thy breath with fervid heat

Distil through lips so chaste and sweet.

O let me on thy breast recline,

And feel, sweet Maud, that thou art mine;

And if words no compassion start,

O heed the pleadings of my heart.

Sweet Maud, I love thee; though we part,

I leave with thee my trembling heart;

In thy sweet prayer remember me,

My life, my hope is all with thee. [page 22]

GOSSAMER

WITHIN this book again I see

A pledge of love once given to me;

A token of remembrance dear,

That’s prompted oft the lonely tear.

Full twenty years it there has been

Enclosed within that sacred screen,

Nor might I ever cast an eye

On that fond pledge to memory.

Though hidden there from mortal scan,

I’ve seen the pale bleached thing, and wan,

In visions rise before my eye

As swelled my bosom with a sigh.

It was a Summer’s ev’ning, calm

When zephyr balmy breathes, and warm,

We sat together in the grove

And fondly pledge our equal love.

A faded leaf on gossamer hung,

As by the tenderest grasp it clung;

And swaying lightly to and fro

It seemed to have no wish to go. [page 23]

No wish to fall, no wish to rise,

    But there to fade away and die;

And gently breathe its lonely sighs

    As breezes passed it silent by.

My fair one caught the dying thing

    And placed it where I see it now,—

“If doubting ever, let this bring

    Remembrance of my truthful vow.

All things may change that take of earth,

    But love that’s pure and holy born,

Change knoweth not, for from its birth

    By God’s deep influence it is drawn.

’T is fed by that continual spring,

    The essence of His being, Divine;

Which brought from Heaven on angel wing,

    Is free, is full: such love is mine.

But ah, so tender is that love,

    And yet so strong the holy tie,

That one cold blast might fatal prove;

    Then I should lonely weep and sigh.

This lone and blighted leaf I give,

    Ensample of that utter woe

Which death, death only can relieve,

    And God alone can never know. [page 24]

I give myself to be thine own;

    But should the bitter cup be mine,

Then I shall languish, all alone,

    Ah, lonely weep and deep repine.

And like that leaf, slow fade away,

    Go listless mourn and deeply sigh;

And yielding to a lone decay

    My heart will droop and early die.

But shouldst thou true and constant prove,

    This heart, that tells its thoughts so free,

Will ever beam with fondest love

    And find its bliss in serving thee.”


THERE IS A LAND OF LOVE AND PEACE.

A breath seems to whisper of joys ever new;

And peace lulls to rest all the happy and blest.

THERE is a land of valleys fair,

    An island in the sea;

And to that land all those repair

    Whose souls are pure and free.

They roam the azure mounts in peace,

    In bowers serene they dwell,

And taste that pure and changeless bliss

    Which mortals may not tell. [page 25]

’T is charmed by breezes’ gentle flow

    And th’ limpid, gliding stream;

There fairest flowers and fragrant grow,

    Where brooklets wind and gleam.

O it is there that lovers feel

    The full deep flow of love,

As sweet and fondest raptures steal

    And deep their passions move.

Not time decays nor blasts lay bare

    Its castles, more nor wall;

A pure eternity is there

    Which doth preserve them all.

The balmy and the pleasant night

    Is ever calm, serene;

The moon beams forth her silver light

    O’er fields for ever green.

There lovers walk the grand arcades

    Where grows the luscious vine;

There harpers in the pleasant shades

    With minstrel bands recline.

There pipers tune to lyrics sweet

    Enchanting lake and grove;

While chorists in the vales repeat

    Sweet strains that tell of love.

Beneath the domes of brightest gold

    The lovely sylphs so fair [page 26]

In fond amour their loves enfold

    To bosoms chaste and bare.

And as the amorosos kiss

    Nor feel their pleasures less,

They dream their souls away in bliss

    And raptures fond caress.


ANONYMA.

ANONYMA, what bliss were mine

    Could I but win a soul so fair;

To have those pretty smiles of thine

    Beam on my soul when worn with care!

I love to scan thy pretty face,

    And gaze upon that winning eye,

For something there I seem to trace

    That gives my heart an anxious sigh.

I sit alone and ponder o’er

    Thine every word, and wonder, ah!

If I might touch thy gentle heart.

    O am I near or from thee far?

I will not breathe a word unkind

    If thou deny me, for I know

’T were wild to try to bend thy mind

    If ’t not have freest will to go. [page 27]

So at thy feet I leave my plea,

    And ask thee for a kind reply;

I will not love thee less sweet one,

    Though this my hope thou shouldst deny.

Those cherry lips to never taste,

    That form to never call my own,

Were gall more bitter to my soul

    Than any sorrow I have known.


TWILIGHT ’S FALLING, LOVE.

SEE love see, the twilight ‘s falling,

    Come love come for the sun is low;

Hark, the dove her mate is calling;

    Sweet love come where the violets grow.

Let us to our fairy bower

    In the still and shady grove,

For this is th’ enchanted hour

    When we fondest speak of love.

Birds are nestling in the brier,

    Courting eve with fondest lay;

Joining in one happy choir,

    Singing hymns to parting day. [page 28]

Owlets too are round us flying

    In the warm inviting air;

While the lamb hath ceased his crying,

    And the lark hath told his prayer.

Calm is brooding softly over,

    Shades are closing in the dell;

’T is the season every lover

    Words of sweetness best can tell.

’T is the hour when fond emotion

    Fills the soul with purest love;

Kindling there a true devotion

    Which the world can never more.

Then we’ll seek the shady stream, love,

    Smiling neath a golden sky,

While the sylvans fondly dream, love,

    But no human soul is nigh.

And we’ll watch the stars appearing

    Meekly o’er the tranquil lea;

While no sound shall reach thine hearing

    Save my heart beat true to thee.

Save my heart beat true to thee, love,

    Save my heart beat true to thee;

For thou art more dear to me, love,

    Than aught else can ever be. [page 29]

There in balmy fragrance lying,

    Where the rose ambrosia sips,

I will (and thou fond replying),

    Kiss love’s sweetness from thy lips.

Now the sun hath ceased his shining,

    Lulled too is the insect hum;

To our bower where soft reclining

    Come, O come, my sweet love come.


GO TO GOD AND TELL YOUR WOE.

WHENE’ER thy life is dark and drear,

And nought thy lonely soul can cheer,

Go heaven tell, and thou shalt feel

A balm thy deepest wounds to heal:

A bliss shall lighten o’er thy soul,

As when the beams of morning roll

        Full, fair and wide o’er world and sky.

When friends shall leave thee sad and lone;

Thou feelest to the world unknown;

Thine heart is full, thy breast swells high;

Emotion bursts the deep, full sigh;

When anguish, like the pangs of hell

Tears out thine hope, and o’er thee swell

        Dire, black and ugly clouds of woe; [page 30]

Aye, when the tempests wildly roll,

And yell to damn thy shattered soul;

The very pall of hell unfurled

Shall shut thee out from all the world;

Hope on my friend, for thou shalt find

(Though ghastly shadows cloud thy mind),

        In heaven, One who cares for thee.

Go to thy God, and calmly tell

The bitter thoughts as high they swell;

And as thou prayest, a sweet relief

Shall clear thy soul of every grief,

A ray of heaven’s purest light

Will dawn upon thy wearied sight,

        As sweet confiding in His love.


O FORGIVE ME SWEET ONE, MY WARM PASSION REVEALING.

O FORGIVE me sweet one, my warm passion revealing,

    For the deep glow of love bids my feelings to swell;

A fond tie growing strong o’er my soul is a-stealing,

    And it draws me to thee with the force of a spell.

I have often felt full the deep swell of emotion,

    And the tear has run free in the impulse of love,

As I’ve scanned thy sweet face with the fondest devotion

    And wished a response in thy soul I could move. [page 31]

O my sweet gentle one, leave me not to repining,

    Let thy shyness, like dew, fall as softly away

As when morning awakes and the sunbeams are twining

    Fond wreathlets of gold on the blossoming May.

Then that frown shall remove and thy sweetness discover [smile;

    Thy true, gentle heart ’neath a fond beaming

And I swear by creation a more truthful lover

    Than I never breathed, free from falseness and guile.


FLORRIE.

How dreams my Love?   Of valleys fair,

    Of sunny lawns and shady dells,

Where the tranquil heart has never care

    To know what words her lover tells?

Does Florrie rest her bosom calm

    On downy bed, unknown to love?

Does not her spirit breathing warm

    At times the subtle passion move?

O does my Florrie never feel

    The burning impulse, fond desire,

Within her gentle breast to steal

    And kindle there a loving fire? [page 32]

O yes, my Florrie has a heart

    As gentle as the pleading dove;

From which my soul will never part,

    For it is bound to her in love.

I’d like to be where I could hear

    The sigh that Florrie breathes alone;

And kiss away the silent tear

    That falls to other hearts unknown.

With Florrie oft I’d like to stay

    And tell her all my heart and love;

A love no charm can lure away

    A heart no other soul can move.


I SAW HER SKIPPING IN THE LAWN.

I SAW her skipping in the lawn,

    Merry, laughing, full of fun;

Lithesome as the gentle fawn

    Sporting when the day is done.

Flowers were budding in the Spring,

    Life was pleasant, free from care;

Every day new joys would bring,

    When her world was young and fair. [page 33]

I saw her walking in the grove

    With her lover by her side;

And her bosom filled with love

    When she said she’d be his bride.

Summer flowers were blooming then,

    Scenting every genial air;

And her bliss was filléd when

    Hearts were bound for ever there.

I saw her weeping in the dell

    When the evening sun was gone;

And the bitter sighs that fell

    Told me that she was alone.

Flowers were falling to decay,

    Autumn came with chilling blast,

All earth’s beauty passed away;

    All with gloom was overcast.

I saw the robin on her grave

    Singing there his lonely song,

And he seemed to deeply grieve

    O’er the fate of one so young.

Winter winds are howling wild,

    And a mother silent weeps

Tears of sorrow for her child,

    Where the broken-hearted sleeps. [page 34]

I AM THINKING OF THEE.

I AM thinking of thee though I’m far, far away

    In the land of the stranger, unknown and alone;

I am weeping for thee as I fervently pray

    That our Father will bless thee my own darling one.

O how sad do I feel as I sit by the shore

    Vaguely watching the waves as they listlessly roll,

And I dream of the land I may never see more,

    And my sweet pretty Ellen so dear to my soul.

O how oft do I see the old cot in the dell

    Where in childhood we wove our fond garlands of love,

And I think of the sweet loving words we did tell

    As at evening we sat in the green shady grove.

I recount all the blisses my soul has enjoyed

    As I’ve breathed in thine ear so confiding and free

The fond strains of a love that can ne’er be destroyed,

    O my love, O my life, I am thinking of thee.

I am thinking of thee and I cast off the tear,

    Hoping Heaven will smile upon hearts that are true,

That the bud of affection which binds us so near

    May yet blossom as pure as in childhood it grew. [page 35]

OUTCAST AND ALONE.

THERE is no pity now for me,

    A wretch in dirt and rags,

As shivering in the freezing rain

    I pace the icy flags.

I’m shunned by those who’ve marred my soul

    With dark and ugly sin;

By those who stole my girlish pride

    And led me on to ruin.

No friend will breathe a kindly word

    To soothe my troubled breast;

I’m but the pleasure of the low,

    The sot and drunkard’s jest.

I have no home, no mother’s love,

    No sister’s kindly smile;

No brother wishes me good night,

    I am so low and vile.

My father cast me on the world,

    Without a father’s care;

Unknown, alone, and without home,

    I fell into a snare. [page 36]

Not having that brave woman’s heart

    That should have helped me on,

I yielded, like a sapling thing,

    And now my virtue’s gone.

The storm beats in my sunken cheeks

    As if to mock my woe;

I’m wetted through, and numbed with cold,

    There’s nowhere I can go.

My feet that tread these loathsome stones,

    Are wet, and cold and bare,

And my freezing fingers I try to warm

    In my damp and uncombed hair.

The rains have washed the streets, and now

    To dark oblivion roll;

O God, that it would thus descend

    And rain upon my soul!

I once was fair and free from vice,

    But now I’m foul and wan,

Unfit to live, unfit to die;

    Disowned by God and man.

And trembling like an ill-used dog,

    I sneak in corners lone,

In vain to hide me from the gaze

    Of those by whom I’m known. [page 37]

For those by whom I once was loved

    Despise their kith and kin,

Look on me with a cold disdain,

    And will not take me in.

So as a loathsome thing, diseased,

    I feel my very breath

Abhorred and shunned, as if indeed

    My presence told of death.

Ah me! my plaint might touch a heart,

    But none will deign to hear;

I’ve not a friend in all the world

    To check one gushing tear.

I now must yield my worldly hope,

    But pardon of God I crave,

And soon from cold, hard-hearted man

    I’ll hide me in the grave.

And then new washed in Jesus’ blood

    And free from all my shame,

My soul shall go as clean to God

    As when from Him I came.

Down in the ground I low shall lie,

    Unmarked by tomb or stone;

Unmourned, unwept, a beggar, wretch

    I’ll rest alone, unknown. [page 38]

The sun shine will shine on my poor grave,

    And daisies fresh will bloom,

As sweet and fair as if they decked

    A monarch’s sculptured tomb.

I come to Thee, Almighty God!

    Have mercy on my soul!

O take me now, for none of earth

    Will with poor me condole.  


TO THEE, MY OWN.

    MY dearest, O my gentle love,

    Fair spirit from those realms above,

                Why weep and lonely sigh?

    Thou ’rt ever to my heart most near,

    Why cause the deep heart-paining tear

                To darken o’er my eye!

    I’ve spoken a love, than which the earth

    Ne’er gave a purer impulse birth,

                My love, sweet one, for thee.

    What shall I say, that love how tell,

    That all thy doubts I may dispel?

                My heart is full, Amy!

    I’ve told thee all, but yet my pen

    Shall speak my thoughts and feelings when

                From thee I’m far away. [page 39]

    If I thy doleful hours can cheer,

    Can stay the sad and lonely tear,

                I’ll write and fondly pray.

    Thou must not weep, nay do not weep,

    Leave that to me, while calmest sleep

                Enveils thee love, in rest.

    O let me in thy bosom dwell

    Serene, then thou wilt learn to tell

                That love within my breast.

    O ’t is a love as pure, as true

    As when in childhood’s days it grew

                So passionate and divine!

    It knows no change, it cannot die,

    Till this full heart shall cease to sigh

                And in the tomb recline.

    No other soul e’er had a charm

    To move this love so deep and warm;

                ’T is thine still and unchanged

    Fear not, for there is in my heart

    Attachment earth can never part,

                Nor can it be estranged.

    I yield to Heaven, nor know I how

    By action, impulse, thought nor vow

                To make my love more plain.

    If I have failed in these long years

    With breaking heart and harrowing tears,

                Then deep, deep is my pain. [page 40]

ALL ALONE.

IN the grave ah now she lieth,

Where the aspen mournful sigheth,

And the night-bird shrilly crieth,

                       All alone.

Near the brooklet softly creeping

Through the willows silent weeping,

There the darling one is sleeping

                       All alone.

Softly fall the beams of Lunar

Through the lindens sweet upon her,

And the woodlands doleful mourn her

                       All alone.

Every night a widow, lowly,

Bowed with age, still sadly, slowly

Seeks the grave to her so holy

                       All alone.

Weeping, weeping; till the dawning

Of the cold and dewy morning

You may see her silent mourning

                       All alone.

Gone her heart, her only pleasure;

Filled with grief that hath no measure,

She must live without her treasure

                       All alone. [page 41]

THE LONELY ONE.

When lone am I and ill at ease,

    And night-birds pipe nocturnal tune;

When winds are hushed amongst the trees,

    And fairies dance before the moon;

When bright and cold and clear’s the sky,

    And Heaven smiles my soul to woo;

I walk the dell with chilly sigh,

    And long to that fair region go.

For all is gloom and sadness here,

    Not one fond hope to cheer a day;

No kindly word to stay the tear,

    Nor chase the lonely drop away.

Distressed, in solitude, alone,

    I watch the time slow passing by;

And listen to the dovelets moan

    As winds amongst the branches high.

The tears o’erweighted with my grief

    In lone distraction fain will start,

Since I can hope for no relief;

    O where shall rest the broken heart!

I hate my being! God forgive!

    But how can I such anguish bear!

No one my sorrows to relieve,

    Nor from my breast this loneness tear. [page 42]

Methinks ’t were sweet when life be o’er,

    And I am laid in yonder dell;

Where pain will never reach me more,

    Nor more this grief my bosom swell.

I there may lie and calmly rest

    From all the world’s misdeeds apart;

There sleep alone serenely blest,

    Where no dark soul can break my heart.

’T will be a sweet and welcome close,

    To my life’s dark and joyless day,

When death shall yield me that repose

    Which knows no cloud to mar the day.


THE SPECTRE.

I DWELL in barns and caverns lone;

    My shade is seen where wild winds blow.

My voice is heard when breezes moan,

    Which lonesome murmurs tell my woe.

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

I flit amongst the ruins old

    Of castle, church, or lonely hall;

I ghostly speed across the wold,

    Or sit me sad upon the wall.

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

                I’m haggard and withered and grey! [page 43]

I seek the forest’s deepest gloom

    Where night-owl whoops his dirges drear;

I guard the damp and silent tomb,

    And fill mankind with dread and fear.

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

I haunt the wood and shady stream;

    I swing upon the lofty bough;

A phantom, ugly, wierd and grim,

    I breathe my murmurs sad and low.

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

I neither joy nor pain may tell,

    Nor any other state have seen;

I reach not heaven nor sink to hell,

    But mope, and restless dwell between.

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

I fix me in the vision strange

    Of man diseased by ceaseless care;

I stare him, till with a slow derange

    He palls and dies in mad despair.

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

                I’m haggard and withered and grey! [page 44]

I am a frightful, ghastly shade,

    With sinews bare and grisly bone;

My eyes are sunken in my head,

    And goodly form I have not known.

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

I brood o’er acts of bloody crime,

    And make the foulest murderer cower;

I clatter in his ears of grime

    My shapeless bones, bemoan the hour.

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

I to the felon’s lonely cell

    And mutter woes with clammy breath;

I mock his sighs with wiles of hell,

    Blood covers blood, death cries for death!

                I’m haggard and withered and grey!

                I’m haggard and withered and grey! [page 45]

BREATHE NOT HER NAME.

BREATHE not her name, for its memory ceaseth

    To yield the fond charm that it once to me bore;

A cloud hovers over it, oblivion doth cover it,

    The spell once possessing enchants me no more.

Cast to the winds be the breath that she utters;

    And deathly and cold be the sigh that she moans;

May loneness and sorrow embitter each morrow,

    And rack the foul heart the ungodly one owns.

Go she the way of her own evil seeking,

    Uncared for, unnoticed, uncherished, alone;

Since love may not reach her, time can only teach her

    To value the heart that would make her its own.

Adieu! I will never again seek to treasure

    In thy callous heart so deceitful and foul,

That fondness so holy, so gentle, so lowly,

    Which melts a man’s heart and entrances his soul.

Adieu to my darling, my pride and my glory;

    The dear one whose praises I often have sung;

Adieu, ah for ever!   And thus I must sever

    That fond lingering hope which so fervently clung. [page 46]

SONNETS.

THE RAVEN PERCHES ON THE BOUGH.

THE raven perches on the bough;

The lover breathes a holy vow—

“I swear by heaven, my world thou art,

My peace is lost if we do part.

A firmer love than that I own

Within the breast of man’s unknown.

Reject thou not a love so warm,

For I will shield thee from all harm

And cherish thee with fondest pride

If thou ’lt consent to be my bride.

Mine is a pure unselfish love,

As purge as angels breathe above.

Then spare, O spare the bitter pain,

And let me not beseech in vain.”

II.

The raven perches on a mound;

A number marks the new-formed ground;

In lonely woe a mother weeps

Her silent tears where Amy sleeps.

No sigh can win, no holy vow

Can reach the gentle spirit now.

No fond entreaty melt the heart

Ere soon to give it deadly smart. [page 47]

No grief, no deep intensive pain

Can wound her gentle soul again.

In death she lieth, sweet, alone:

Her spirit to its rest hath gone.

No more to hear a ruffian’s vow,

For she doth rest in quiet now.


O LET ME DIE, MY HEART IS WORN.

O LET me die, my life is o’er,

    My hope is gone, and I am lone;

The peace possessing once, no more

    Will to this wounded breast be known.

The world grows cold, and all that’s dear

    In treasured friendships seeks decay;

The youthful dreams that bound them near

    Are fading silently away.

No more my soul aspires to gain

    What fate and fortune both deny;

So I must yield in silent pain,

    While all the phantoms from me fly.

Then let me die, O let me die,

    And seek that land where all are blest;

Where all is calm, and peace and love,

    And angels bear our souls to rest. [page 48]

Ah let me die, my heart is worn

    With so deep sorrow, pain and tears;

My life is spent, my hope is dead,

    I seek the grave in early years.


FOREBODING.

THE autumn winds are blowing,

The kine are drear’ly lowing,

The brook is wildly flowing,

            And leaves bestrew the ground.

The clouds are swiftly flying;

The trees are mournful sighing

Because that summer’s dying

            And blasts are howling round.

A gloom is brooding over;

Too fond and true a lover;

I feel I cannot move her

            Nor moisten her sapless eye.

There is a lonely feeling

For ever o’er me stealing,

A mortal pang revealing

            I feel I soon shall die. [page 49]

I KNOW A STAR THAT BRIGHTLY SHINES.

I KNOW a star that brightly shines

    Through every gloomy hour;

It through the silent darkness gleams

    With calm and holy power.

When heavy clouds are lowering,

    The world is dark and drear,

That star beams from its heaven

    And glistens through a tear.

                And glistens through a tear,

                Ah, glistens through a tear;

                The star beams [illegible] its heaven

                And glistens through a tear.

When every other comfort fails,

    And pleasures flee away;

That star upon me sweetly smiles

    With bright and cheering ray.

When by the world forsaken

    And not a friend is near,

That star beams from its heaven

    And glistens through a tear.

It cheers and leads me ever on

    Through all my toil and care,

It tells me of a loving breast

    And bids me welcome there. [page 50]

And when my spirit’s sighing

    To flee from earth away,

My own, my true, my lovely star

    Beams forth its gentle ray.

It cheers me when I sit alone

    And feel so sad and drear,

And in the twilight of my hope

    It glistens through a tear.

                It glistens through a tear,

               Ah, glistens through a tear,

               And in the twilight of my hope

                It glistens through a tear.


SORROWING.

My mother now is dead, and my father too is gone,

Brothers I have not, and sisters are unknown;

Companions of my childhood are roaming far away,

And as a leaf of autumn I am falling to decay:

                    For a friend I have not left

                    Now my darling mother’s gone;

                    O I cannot live alone,

                    No, I cannot live alone.

My grief is full and deep and my eyes are swoll’n with pain,

A horrid thrill of loneness my heart doth rend in twain; [page 51]

For I have no one to love me, I have none to cheer me now,

Now sweet fond smile to bless me, no kiss to soothe my brow.

                    O I have no one to love me

                    Now my darling mother’s gone;

                    O I cannot live alone,

                    No, I cannot live alone.

O how deep the heart can feel when estranged from all its kind!

As I look upon the world with a lone and vacant mind,

I behold the forms I love but they love not in return,

Then I turn away a-weeping, and in silence I do mourn.

                    For I have no one to love me

                    Now my darling mother’s gone;

                    O I cannot live alone,

                    No, I cannot live alone.

For my mother dear would bless me and would kiss away the tear,

She would soothe my drooping heart with a deep and holy care; [alone

O my darling gentle mother is now sleeping all

Where the angels meet to bless the dead, O God! my mother’s gone. [page 52]

                    O I have no one to love me

                    Now my darling mother’s gone;

                    O I cannot live alone,

                    No, I cannot live alone.


NEVER SHALL WE MEET AGAIN.

HAD I power I would flee to that home

    Where all trouble is lost to the blest;

Where no sorrows nor woes ever come,

    And the weary and sad are at rest.

            Far away, far away from this pain,

            For O never shall we meet again.

Life’s a gloom, I would fain seek the grave,

    Where a tranquilness ever unmoved

Giveth back all of earth that life gave,

    And broods o’er the dust that we loved.

There the servant from bondage is free,

    And the wealthy yields up his desire;

There the proud and contending agree

    In that truce which doth never expire.

There the humble and great are no more,

    And the worm has the best of us all;

But O sorrows deep trails are o’er,

    Nor a woe the spirit may recall. [page 53]

In the tomb I could rest all alone,

    Lost to all, and the world lost to me;

For there love with his pangs is unknown,

    From this anguish I there should be free.

The sweet love of my youth is now o’er,

    Every hope’s sought an early decay;

Her dear face I shall see never more,

    O my soul, might I fly, fly away.

            Far away, far away from this pain,

            For O never shall we meet again.


MY HEART IS SAD AND WEARY.

My heart is sad and weary,

    And the hour’s distressing long;

I fear they’ve stolen my love away

    Or the fates do guide him wrong.

My love is late, I’m very lonely,

    Gloom is brooding o’er my cot;

Distress and grief my heart is rending,

    For my love, he cometh not.

Methought I saw him to me come

    As I sat ’neath the tree,

His trembling hand held soft a flower

    That he had plucked for me. [page 54]

He stood and gazed upon me sad,

    A tear bedimmed his eye;

Then looked he on the portent gem

    And breathed a heavy sigh.

O my love, I’m very lonely,

    All is gloom around my cot;

Methinks thou ’rt lost, O dread foreboding!

    My love, my love, he cometh not.

The tear fell sad, I gazed intent,

    My heart beat wild and high;

He caught my gaze with an awful glance,

    And said that he must die.

O my love, why dost thou linger!

    Hasten o’er moor and lea;

Bound like a hart with hounds pursuing,

    Come, come my only one to me.

He touched the bud upon my lip,

    And threw it at my feet;

Then took me in his arms and said—

    “We never more shall meet!”

He softly pressed my trembling hand,

    And kissed a sad farewell;

Then whispered low the mystic words—

    “More, love, I may not tell.” [page 55]

The moon’s half spanned the starry vault!

    O time, but couldst thou stay!

What would I give if I might claim

    But one short hour’s delay!

He hastened quickly down the path,

    And onward went apace;

The lilies dropped in sad adieu,

    And roses kissed his face.

I watched my love go o’er the hill,

    While distance lent me sight;

Down, down, another step, O heaven!

    This dread and woful night.

My love comes not, the time is up,

    The beat now strikes my doom;

The hour is past, hope flies away,

    And I am left in gloom!

I’ll die! and with this deadly steel

    Will plunge my deepest vein!

O heaven! heaven save my soul,

    That we may meet again. [page 56]

DOWN IN THE DELL.

DOWN in the dell where the yew-trees droop

        Their boughs of sombre hue;

Where the brooklet ripples by,

And the lime-trees towering high,

        Brush the vault of blue.

Where too the violet and primrose dwell

        Far in the covert lone;

Where the wild vines love to creep

Where the willows droop and weep

        And the young doves moan.

There I will come at an even-time

        When wren and robin pray.

Where the ivies sweetly twine,

And the evening sun doth shine

        As the conies play.

O I will come when the moonbeams glance

        Deep in the forest shade;

Where the elfins dance at night,

And the zephyrs breathing light

        Charm the moon-lit glade.

Yes, I will come at the midnight hour

        When aspens drear’ly sigh:

And sit me in the silent grove,

And think of thee my only love;

        And break my heart and die. [page 57]

COME WHERE THE BLUE-BELLS GROW.

THE sun is setting sweet my love,

O zephyr hardly stirs the grove;

The lark is falling to her nest,

This is the hour we love the best,

            Come where the blue-bells grow.

The cirrous clouds enwreath the sky,

    The bee is buzzing home;

The glow of busy day is by,

    O come my sweet love come,

            Come where the blue-bells grow.

The robin sings his lonely song,

    As evening shadows fall,

The swallows too with twittering tongue

    Fond lovers seem to call,

            Come where the blue-bells grow.

For ’t is so sweet to sit alone

    With one we truly love,

And tell the passion that we own,

    And all the fondness prove.

            Come where the blue-bells grow.

And O what pleasure we shall find

    In that sweet solitude!

With each a free and open mind

    And thee so true, so good.

            Come where the blue-bells grow. [page 58]

WOE IS ME!

A MAID stood weeping on a rock

That soared towards the sky.

A yawning crevice gaped below

Where torrents rushed with wildest flow.

As from her heart blood trickled slow

From ugly wound with heated glow,

She yelled, and thus she said—

            “Ah, woe is me! I die!

            From yonder bloody strife I’ve fled!

            Alas! ah me! I die!”

She looked toward a forest dark

With mad bewildered eye;

Said she— “I hear the bowies clash!

Hark! hark! what means that woful crash!

And now see yonder how they dash

With reeking bloody swords that flash

In pallid beams of moon!

        “Ah, woe is me! I die!

          From yonder bloody strife I’ve fled!

          Alas! ah me! I die!” [page 59]

FORSAKEN.

THE moon glides on her beauteous course

    And lights the brook with silver glow;

Past hours rush o’er my mind perforce

    As if to aggravate my woe.

Hark! sweet Philomel is singing,

    And her anthems vault the sky;

List! the woody dells are ringing

    Echoes sweet in melody.

Gone art thou, and left me lonely?

    Thou for whom my bosom heaves;

Thee I cherished and thee only.

    Winds are sighing ’mongst the leaves.

Here thou said’st that nought could sever

    Hearts like thine which ne’er deceives;

Thy love was plighted here for ever:

    Winds were sighing ’mongst the leaves.

Here thou lov’dst me never, never;

    Woe to her thy vow believes!

My soul was blighted here for ever!

    Winds were sighing ’mongst the leaves.

Dearest; can’st thou thus forsake me?

    Could’st thou tell my feelings now,

Back into thine arms thou’dst take me,

    And amend thy broken vow. [page 60]

Sweet; that placid calm still reigneth

    That witnessed thee thy love tales tell;

Darling; still that love remaineth

    Which thy wooings taught to swell.

Loved one; there’s a pang that paineth

    With a keen and deadly smart;

Blighted love— whose string retaineth

    All thy vows deep in my heart.

Cherished; there’s a lonely feeling

    Qualms and deadens every thought;

’T is to know that thou art stealing

    The only joy my life hath sought.

O return love! Come and cheer me;

    For thine absence so me grieves;

Though away, my heart is near thee.

    Winds are sighing ’mongst the leaves.

Zephyr in the grove is sighing,

    All around is dear and lone;

Though thy love for me is dying

    I would call thee yet my own.

Hark! the nightingale is singing

    Tunes of sweetness in the sky!

And the placid vale is ringing

    With the angel melody. [page 61]

’T is a woman’s heart thou ’rt breaking,

    Fervent, tender, constant, kind;

The wounded breast thou ’rt now forsaking,

    Thou, and only thou canst bind.

Simple, unsuspecting, trusting,

    All confiding, open, free;

Villain thou, for every lusting,

    Dark with guilt and treachery.

Thou a man! a dark defiler

    Of what’s good and pure and fair;

Sure a darker, colder, viler

    Worm than thou ne’er cast despair.

Go, begone! foul pimp unblushing,

    Wily thief of woman’s peace;

I will die, for grief is crushing

    With a weight and bitterness.

*       *       *       *       *       *

Yes, I will die! a direr hell

    Than life to me would prove

Was never spake, nor shall words tell

    The taste of blasted love!

I’ll not remove from this lone spot,

    For wither may I go?

A refuge from this grief there’s not

    Save in the ground laid low. [page 62]

So here I’ll sit and dimly scan

    The heavens widening fair;

And think no more of wicked man

    But dream of angels fair.

But ah! this woe will cross my mind!

    How I shall sob and sigh!

With throes of grief flow unconfined!

    I’m ruined! must, must die!


FAREWELL MOTHER.

FAREWELL mother, tears are streaming

    From your dim and aged brow;

All my hope is so fondly dreaming

    Faded is and vanished now.

Farewell mother, I must leave you

    Ne’er to see your face again;

And the thought that doth so grieve you

    Lends me deep and wounding pain.

O it breaks my heart to sever

    From the tie that binds so near,

For my lips again may never

    Kiss away the falling tear. [page 63]

All the ties of youth are broken,

    Peace and reason fail me now;

Lo! I hear the fatal token—

    Early death or lingering woe.

I am going lone and slighted,

    To a far and distant land,

For my youthful hope is blighted

    By a cold and ruthless hand.

Bitter, bitter is the anguish

    Gnawing at my broken heart,

Which in grief must silent languish,

    Bleeding from the deadly smart.

Aged woe and early sorrow

    From the breast will never fly;

So will gloom o’ercloud each morrow

    When we feel it sweet to die.


ST. CLARE’S LONELY FOUNTAIN.

THE clouds are at rest on the mountain;

    The breezes are low in the dell;

A maid at St. Clare’s lonely fountain

    Her beads is beginning to tell.

            “My love is away o’er the sea,

                Ave Maria, list to my prayer!

            Be with him and keep him for me,

                And O guide him most holy St. Clare.” [page 64]

The moon lights the deep-bedded river,

    And spreads a calm glory around;

The stars twinkle ever for ever,

    There is not a jar nor a sound.

            “My love is now far, far away,

                But I know he is thinking of me;

            He’s not of the gallant and gay,

                Never heart was so truthful as he.”

The trees are all dead in the stillness,

    No rustle of leaflet nor bough;

The vapours fall around with a chillness

    And sparkle like gems on her brow.

            “Fair heaven be guide to my love,

                And be with him wherever he roam;

            O Jesu’ that dwelleth above

                Do though guide him to me safely home.”

Her voice softly dies in the cover;

    A tear leaves her dark glowing eye;

As fondly she dreams of her lover,

    Her heart venteth many a sigh.

            “My love bade me come to the well,

                And pray in my loneliness there;

            And oft as my beads I should tell

                To commend him to holy St. Clare.” [page 65]

I REMEMBER A FACE THAT I LOVED TO BEHOLD.

I REMEMBER a face that I loved to behold,

    For a glory dwelt on that fair brow;

And it beamed forth a beauteousness never yet told,

    But I see not the gentle one now.

I remember an eye beaming calmness and love,

    As it fondly would gaze in my own;

But the soul that possessed it, on wings of the dove

    To some other fair region hath flown.

I remember a voice ringing sweetly and clear

    As to me never sound had before;

Like the swells of a cherub it trilled in my ear,

    But on earth I shall hear it no more.

I remember the spot where at evening we met,

    By the fountain alone, all alone;

Nor the soft falling whispers shall I e’er forget,

    Though the angel that breathed them has gone.

I am old, and my hair is as white as the snow,

    Early age has crept over my brow;

To the home of my loved one soon, soon I shall go,

    For old death is enveiling me now. [page 66]

Underneath the green turf where the robin weeps long,

    And the woodpecker taps at the tree

There’s a sweet little spot in the willows among,

    That’s reserved for my love and for me.

And ere long by the shade of the fir as she sleeps,

    I will clasp my fond image in death;

Where the pale lilies droop and the jasamine weeps,

    And the zephyr wafts softly her breath.


SYLVAN IS DANCING WITH FAY.

How clearly and bright the moon’s shining tonight,

    Around all is bright as the day;

O’er valley and dell a stillness doth dwell,

    And Sylvan is dancing with Fay.

Hark, hark to the gay merry laugh, as away

    They skip over bramble and brake!

The fairies and elves are sporting themselves,

    And frolicking over the lake.

How lonely and hollow each echo doth follow!

    While shrill sounds the shriek of the nymph;

Which mounting on high is lost in the sky

    Where devil is hanging with imp. [page 67]

See, see yonder devils enjoying their revels,

    And goblins and dwarfs all aglee;

Round, round they do go on tip of the toe,

    So merrily, frantic and free.

See spirits and hosts of wandering ghosts

    Come streaming up valley and fell;

They gather round and darken the ground,

    While demons come hooting from hell.

See manes and lares, hags, kelpies and fairies,

    Old harpies and satyrs and all

The vilest of shapes that humanity apes,

    Are gathering now to the ball.

“Wee, wee, werry now,” so the jubilee goes,

Some spin on their heads, others turn on their nose.

“Wee, wee, werry now,” and they vanish away,

The devil’s broke loose, and all hell is at play.


TO JENNIE.

POOR child thou ’rt gone! may heaven bless

    The path on which thou seek’st to tread!

Though I no more may thee caress,

    I’ll dream of pleasures that are dead. [page 68]

I loved thee with a tender care,

    A virtue few men care to own,

And though thy love no more I share,

    This heart thou might’st have called thine own.

Rememberest thou those fleeting hours

    When once I claimed thy fond embrace?

Thou wouldst not cease thy loving powers

    Until I kissed thy pretty face.

And even then thou ’dst hold me still,

    And oft would fall the gushing tear,

Nor would it cease to flow until

    I fondly said “good night my dear.”

I think of thee unkindly, nay

    Though we may never meet again;

Thy gentle heart I’ll fondly pray

    Reflection may not touch with pain.

The bell tolls out the midnight hour,

    And dreams of thee crowd o’er my sight;

To help, since I’ve no more the power,

    I bid thee, dear, a long good night. [page 69]

MEDITATING DEATH.

AND shall I die! ah die and leave the world,

And cast my soul to hell, to die again,

And yet to never die, but live in death!

O heaven preserve me in this awful hour.

From off my mortal eyes could I but lift

The veil, and see eternity unroll

The future of my endless being! I pall

Before thee death, and bid my soul to stay.

Fearful uncertainty tells me to pause

And hesitate ere I do send thee forth

Into the eternal, awful and unknown.

       I do remember how the holy man

Once taught me that a soul so rash would die

In hell, and fire would ere consume the one

Immortal spark which cannot be destroyed!

Stay yet my soul, I have thee caged, in one

Fell minute I could break thy prison bars

And set thee free; that’s not the end, for lo,

I could not then guide thee up to thy God,

For if thou leave not with this mortal dust

All thine ungodliness, and make thee clean

And pure as light, thy weight of sins will drag

Thee down to direful and unending woe.

Ah me! my soul would fain exist in one

Long, grand eternal night of this so calm,

Serene and tranquil loneness.   No, no, I [page 70]

Can never brook the alternating day

And its distracting train of busy scenes,

But O away to some fair region far

From all ungentleness and cruel tongues

Could I unfetter from this clay, I’d wing

My glad releaséd soul with buoyant ease

And lightness of a spirit that’s new born.

And soaring high, and wide and far away

As like when th’ gentle and the timid dove

New habitation seeks, I’d stay me not

Until I found a calm and peaceful rest.

       And as I wander ’mongst these stellar orbs,

Methinks to poise me in th’ ethereal air

And gaze with awe upon those systems huge

And grand.   And soaring on and on by worlds

And vast world-systems increate, I’d peer

Through distance widening far and far away.

And as I feel impulsive strength new gained

By eager fancies forming, I would flap

My lightsome pinions and up dart with speed

Of hope on wings; and as the halo beams

From God’s dominions fair, upon my gaze

My soul would pause, and with less speed approach

The pure celestial light.   Then as I near

And nearer draw, methinks to hear the sweet,

Soft strains which angels sing to heaven’s Lord;

And dulcet swells of sacred harmony

Sound forth from temples of Almighty God. [page 71]

And as those mighty realms unveil before

My wondering sight, and on I go with bashed

And awful care, pellucid spirits there

Methinks to see on messages of love

Swift winging flight, while others soaring high

And far and wide sweet welcome ever sing

To all the new-born souls that from the earth

Do flee away.   Now guided by those forms

So pure, and fairer than the poet’s muse,

Or old Greek sculptor’s arts pourtray, I take

A grand survey of heaven’s vast expanse.

And thus we wing our slow aerial course

O’er sunny mountain and o’er fairy hill;

By woods and gurgling brooks and blooming vales;

’Mongst spicy groves and pleasant woodland shades;

Along the stilly gliding streams that branch

In softly bubbling rills o’er valleys wide,

And widening far and far away, until

They blend with plains of everlasting green.

Through dells and lawns and pleasant flowery meads;

By crystal fountains’ banks of golden moss,

Where fair and lovely sylphs disport the time,

As pure as balmy odors breathing sweet,

And lyres attune to heaven’s holy song,

While soft reclining on the buoyant air.

And round where’er the eye-delighted sense

May seek, there do arise such scenes of bliss

And love as yet unkenned by mortal dream. [page 72]

IN THE COLD WORLD.

IN the cold world I am wandering alone,

No one to comfort me now he is gone;

My life is a burthen, I sorrow and sigh;

And O I could lay me down gladly to die,

        Flee from the world’s disappointment and care.

Ah, little squirrel, would I were as thou,

Bounding with pleasure from bramble to bough;

Free from distress, without aught to endear;

Knowing not love, nor its deep paining tear;

        Blind to life’s ills, to the sadness I feel.

O could I fly far away, far away

On angel wings to some heavenly day,

Where I no anguish nor sorrow should know,

Nor feel the depth of this bitterest woe; [heal

        There balm a wound which the world cannot

’Neath the green turf I would lay myself low,

Where gentle breezes at eventime blow;

Where the moon calmly broods over the shade,

Beams on the spot where I often have stayed,

        Stayed with the one whom I trusted and loved.

Under the shamrock, O there let me lie

Where the sweet ripple runs silently by;

O lay me down on that hallowed spot

Unknown to the world, and for ever forgot,

        By the dark soul that so cruel has proved. [page 73]

AT THE GRAVE.

I THERE sat down, for lone was I;

And wept with many a bitter sigh;

And O I wished I there might die;

            For all the world was drear.

And as I wiped the tear away

Methought I heard a whisper say—

“You still my hope, ah, that you may,

            But none shall you endear.”

I looked around, the sight was fair;

The lark was singing in the air;

O he’d a mate his life to share,

            But never a friend had I.

I gazed upon the little mound;

(Some flowers were freshly laid around)

Where deep down in the cold, cold ground

            There never swelled a sigh.

Said I, Somewhere there is a heart

Whose truthful impulse feels the start

That tells a love death cannot part

            From one that love did own.

Ah me! what sympathetic throes

Of pathos fill the hearts of those

Who feel and weep o’er others woes

            When they themselves are lone! [page 74]

HE NEVER CAN FORGIVE ME.

O WHO has grief like mine to bear?

    Alas that ever I was born!

He leaves me in this wild despair,

    And spurns my plea with bitter scorn.

                He never can forgive me.

How happy we once wore, but ah,

    That time has gone, for ever past;

His hope of life I did so mar,

    And o’er his future gloom I cast.

The love that bound our hearts when young

    But lost its grasp through misled fears,

And O it would have firmer clung

    And drowned its wrongfulness in tears.

But I must pine and sorrow deep,

    Make sad my heart with many a sigh;

And I shall grieve and lonely weep,

    Grow pallid, wither, droop and die.

Come peaceful rest in darksome tomb,

    Closed up for ever out of sight;

Spread o’er me, death, thy tranquil gloom,

    O world, adieu! a sad good night;

                He never can forgive me. [page 75]

O DARKEST SOUL!

O DARKEST soul, for ever go,

So utter base, so vile, so low;

My heart within me quails to know

            That love can be thus shammed!

O me, that man should give his mind

To aught so subtle and refined

            In torments for the damned!

The tears run wildly from my eye,

Emotion chokes the swelling sigh,

My peace, my hope, all with thee die;

            Would that I were unborn!

What depth of anguish, O what pain;

What dire forebodings crowd my brain!

            Indeed I am forlorn.

Thou said thou would’st my sorrows share,

And strive to lighten every care,

My toils of lie would’st help to bear

            But thou art false as hell!

O what a stolid, faithless soul!

Thine heart how cold, how dead, how foul!

            Thy mind how dark and fell!

Alas! but had I never known

A thing that hath so fulsome grown,

O would remembrance bid thee gone

            And thoughts of thee were dead! [page 76]

Alas! thou ’rt fixed within my soul,

And back to thee my mind will roll

            When age o’er age hath fled!

I thought to roam o’er heaven with thee,

And mused how happy we should be—

As I love her so she loves me—

            Alas, thy cold, black heart!

Go hide thy shameless face, recoil

Back quick to hell, for its turmoil

            Will better suit thine art.

O subtlest form of dire conceit;

To walk with demons thou art meet;

Thy wily cant they oft repeat

            And yell for more display.

Most pious was thy strict contour,

And fitted thus my soul to allure,

            Led my fond heart astray.

O loathsome thing thou ’st done it well;

Being versed in all the lore of hell,

Thou work’st a trick as dark and fell

            As Satan e’er designed.

When life was sweetest, and my heart

Was full of peace, thou hurld’st thy dart

            And to my fate consigned. [page 77]

I bid adieu to such dry clay,

And leave thee till some future day

Shall lay thy conscience bare to slay

            Thy mis-shaped, ugly soul.

Take in the fill of fiendish joy

Thou trashy wretch, thou foul alloy,

            And hasten to thy goal.


GONE TO DECAY

THE windows are covered with ivy and mould,

    And the creepers grow high on the wall;

The weather-vane moans in its socket of old

    And a loneliness dwells in the hall.

The cold wintry winds seem to mourn o’er the spot

    That’s now dreary, forsaken, and lone,

And sigh for the dear ones long dead and forgot

    As they rest ’neath the moss-covered stone.

The owl nightly whoops in the chambers so bare,

    Other tenants, alas, are no more;

Gone, gone to decay, desolation is there,

    And the revels and feasts are now o’er.

The fair ones are dead, and the sweet songs of love

    With the lovers are all passed away;

No more may the minstrel be heard in the grove

    Nor the harper at even to play. [page 78]

Gone, gone, all is gone, and the still shades walk

    Is with bramble and brier overgrown;

The sweet-scented bowers where lovers might talk,

    Plight their vows in the fragrance alone.

The place is decayed and its glory is gone,

    And a gloom broodeth over the scene;

Soon gulphed in the past, and the only thing known

    Is the name of what once there had been.


IT WAS THE HOUR OF PARTING, LOVE.

I ONCE sat in a valley where

    The fluttering aspens whisper low;

Where beech and elm rise high in air,

    And darkening laurels thickly grow.

The cirrus clouds in silver wreath

    Engarland o’er the heavens fair;

While all the world sublime beneath

    Reposéd from its toil and care.

The moon full shone o’er wood and hill,

    And twinkling stars smiled from above;

Around me all was calm and still;

    It was the hour of parting love. [page 79]

As there I mused, my heart was stirred

    To hear a deep and hollow moan;

It could not be of beast nor bird

    For ’t was so human in its tone.

I listened, and again the sound

    Rose up from some dark cavern deep;

Where waters gush with many a bound

    From crag to crag, from steep to steep.

Deep down where torrents boil and roar,

    And foaming floods roll in between;

Where angry waters dash the shore

    And roll to gulphs deep, dark, unseen.

Aye, ’mongst those crags where th’ herons shriek,

    The drear and lonesome nighthawk’s cry

In long shrill echoes round the creek,

    Till lingering [illegible] lost in th’ lofty sky,

I saw a form with feeble strength

    Mount high and far a rocky steep;

Ledge after ledge, until at length

    Quite wearied, stumbled, and did weep.

O how she grieved! my feeble breast

    May feel it, but it cannot tell

The deep, dark wofulness that pressed

    Her tender feelings down to hell. [page 80]

“Somewhere he lies cold, dead and lone,

    May be on some bleak rock above,

Or in some chasm deep, unknown.

    O heaven guide me to my love!

Alas! it was not mine to pay

    The last dear tribute of my care;

To keep, to fondly watch, to pray,

    His pain to soothe, his death to share.

I’ve wandered here alone to seek

    The one dear treasure of my heart;

Now I am lost, and death doth speak

    In rocks huge gaping wide apart.

Ah me! life is a fitful dream,

    We know not what a day may tell;

Though peace shines forth her fairy bream

    Deep anguish soon may all dispel.

I look at thee O moon, for oft

    In rapture full the tear hath flown

When gazing on thy beam so soft,

    Calm falling in the glade and lone.

I bid thee now a long farewell;

    My spirit seeks some far off clime;

A land of peace the good men tell,

    Of rest that is unknown to time.” [page 81]

     

THE EVENING STAR IS WEEPING.

               THE evening star is weeping

               Over where you’re sleeping

So silent and so lonely in the old church mound.

               The twilight lingers long

               As birds of sweetest song

In happy chorus charm the hills and vales around.

               Those fields how sweet to view

               When I could walk with you

And watch this same fond twilight falling soft and calm;

               What bliss we felt my love,

               In yonder woods to rove,

And tell our happy thoughts in breathings pure and warm.

               But now I sit alone,

               For darling, you are gone;

Gone to that happy land from whence your spirit came;

               Alone I weep and sigh,

               And wish I too might die,

As fondly do I breathe your dearly treasured name.

               Old memory fain will dwell

               Long, long in yonder dell,

Where oft we’ve sat together ’neath the holly tree; [page 82]

               And as I look around

               The dear familiar ground,

What thrills of horrid loneness chill me, Emily!

               The birds sing soft and sweet,

               And flowers about my feet

Bloom smilingly again and look so fresh and fair;

               I close my eyes and pray

               And dream myself away

Back to those happy hours when you were with me there.

               Soon may the old church bell

               Weep out his doleful knell;

May soon I come to thee where sorrow is no more.

                O ’t is bliss to know

                That all this silent woe

The bitter pains and ills of life ere long will all be o’er.


I FEEL IT WOULD BE SWEET TO DIE.

       AH little fly, what bliss serene

           Thou feelest sporting ’mongst the flowers!

       Upon the verdant, fragrant green

           Thou spendest all thine happy hours. [page 83]

       Thou feel’st a joy unknown to me,

           A blindness shields thee from all care;

       My sorrows are unknown to thee

           While thy short life is sweet and fair.

       Unlike this strange fond being, man,

           Aspiring for some inane toy;

       Thy world is all within thy scan,

           With nought to wish, but all enjoy.

       Why was I not ephemeral born,

           O dupe of woman’s subtle art?

       Why should I suffer this low scorn

           And yet refuse from her to part?

       Ah why, O Sun, dost thou still tell

           The matin hour and vesper time?

       Then how fond hope can I dispel?

           For what we love is hard t’ resign.

       There is a spell that seems to chain

           And bind our fond affection there;

       And as we yield in bitter pain

           Hope fain would conquer our despair.

       The seasons come, the seasons go,

           And still I breathe the heavy sigh;

       No beam of love to chase my woe,

           I feel it would be sweet to die. [page 84]

SONNET.

FAREWELL, farewell, I’ll ne’er forget thee:

    Grief weighs down my spirits low,

Gloom deep and dark around besets me;

    O my heart, I’m sick of woe.

O I did love thee, aye I love thee,

    Though thou ’rt false, a phantom fair;

How little did it take to prove thee

    Void of feeling, without care!

Couldst thou know this weight of anguish,

    Tell my sorrow, feel the sigh!

O hapless wretch I’m doomed to languish,

    Droop dejected, pine and die.

He called me fair, his darling one,

    And now he leaves me all alone.


BINNAR AND EMILY.

    O AFRIC’S sandy plains do burn

        With heat most dread and dire;

    There scorching winds and sandy clouds

        Rush o’er the tropic fire.

    There rivers do not meander ’long

        Through valleys fair and green; [page 85]

    The desert is one lonely wild

        Where verdure ne’er is seen.

                The eye may gaze for miles around,

                But never eye that waste shall bound,

    Nor aught its bounds shall stay.

                The mirage in the distance tells

                Of phantom brooks and lovely dells,

                And as the vision grander swells

    It vanishes away.

    ’T was o’er a desert such as this

        For life a traveller fled;

    In hope to ’scape from cruel death

        His wife too with him sped.

    They bare a simple store of food,

        Sufficient for the day;

    Alas, the wife was sore fatigued,

        And faltered by the way.

                ’T was fatal.   “We are lost,” she cried,

                “See far the desert opening wide;

    The sun to noon has reached.

                My feet are burnt and blistered o’er,

                My body’s all one burning sore,

                And nothing can I see before

    But sand and sand-hills bleached.”

    He gave his share of drink to her

        And tried to help her on, [page 86]

    But soon he found to his dismay

        That all her strength was gone.

    She fell into his arms and said—

        “O Binnar, fly! O fly!

    If you have strength, speed o’er the plain

        And leave me here to die.

                If but one step my life would save

                I could not move, here make my grave

    For quickly I shall die.

                O Binnar, what are those I see

                In Heaven’s glorious canopy!

                They’re Angels coming down to me

    To take my soul on high.

    I see them in yon upper land,

        In fair and grand array;

    They beckon to me as I gaze,

        And call my soul away.

    They’re singing in the pleasant vales

        Where streamlets gently flow,

    And fountains sport o’er grassy meads:

        O tither let us go!

                O beauteous angels! hear them sing!

                How grandly do their voices ring

    Expansive in the sky!

                The luscious vines how thick they grow!

                How sweet the gurgling brooklets flow

                Through flowery valleys, winding, slow

    By mountains towering high!” [page 87]

    She said no more, but gently sighed,

        Then breathed a feeble breath;

    Still Binnar held her in his arms,

        But O he clasped but death;

    O’erfilled with grief he pressed her hand,

        And tried, but could not speak,

    Then kissed the deathly tears away

        That lingered on her cheek.

                The bitter task must now be done,

                To hide her from the blazing sun

    He sought to scratch a grave.

                But O, as on the ground he crept,

                The heated sands all o’er him swept;

                In wild despair he sat and wept,

    And yelled a madman’s rave.

    He looked around, away and far,

        And groaned an inward prayer;

    Then gazed upon her corpse, and said—

        “My heart, my heart is there.”

    And then his mind flew o’er the sea

        Towards his native land,

    And with the dream still on his soul

        He knelt and took her hand.

                “And must I say goodbye,” said he,

                “My dear and gentle Emily,

    And leave thee all alone? [page 88]

                And must I say farewell, my heart!

                O never! no, we will not part

                My only joy on earth thou art;

    O God! I am undone!”

    He took the flagon from his belt,

        And placed it to her lip,

    He slaked her parchéd tongue, and said—

        “Alas, she does not sip!

    Her gentle heart its work has done,

        ’T is still, her life has fled;

    And here am I now all alone,

        My Emily is dead!”

                How deeply were his feelings moved

                As gazing on the form her loved

    And moaning, stroked her hair!

                He cast his eyes o’er deserts wide,

                And seeing hope had vanished, sighed,

                Then fell beside her corpse and died,

    And thus her death did share.


LILLIE VAUGHAN.

LILLIE VAUGHAN, Lillie Vaughan, how I joy to behold

Thy love speaking eyes and thy ringlets of gold;

Not the world can afford other pleasure to me

As to love and be loved my sweet Lillie by thee. [page 89]

All my life is as light and free as the air,

For my Lillie and I we have no other care

Than to dream through the night of the sweetness of love,

And to tell o’er the rapture our future shall prove.

Yes, my Lillie has lips which the pink nor the rose

In their balmy retreats where the sweetest repose,

Can afford the sweet fragrance, the touch nor the hue

I receive in the kiss of my Lillian true.

O my sweet, pretty Lillie, I love her so well

That I have not expression my fondness to tell;

And it is not a passion but lasting a day,

But a love that will never, O never decay.

I recline on her breast of an evening alone,

And she calls me her love, and I call her my own,

By the light of the love in her eye I can see

That her heart beats with fondest affection for me.

Lillie Vaughan, Lillie Vaughan, how I joy to behold

Thy love speaking eyes and thy ringlets of gold,

Not the world can afford other pleasure to me

As to love and be loved, my sweet Lillie by thee. [page 90]

O KISS ME MOTHER ERE I DIE.

O KISS me mother ere I die,

    It is the only boon I crave;

Forgive me mother, soon I’ll lie

    In yonder church-yard silent grave.

I’ve sinned and I have suffered, aye

    The pangs of deep remorse and shame,

In one dark hour I went astray,

    But mother, am I all to blame?

He told me all alluring things

    My simple heart and trust to gain;

But with what vice and pleasure brings,

    He did not tell me of this pain.

Despise me not, I am your own,

    Once nurtured with your fondest care;

O leave me not to die alone;

    My mother, mother, heed my prayer.

My soul now yearns to fly away

    From all this bitter grief and woe;

Some kindly, gentle word O say,

    And let my broken spirit go. [page 91]

[unnumbered page, includes illustration]

[blank page]

It will not leave you mother dear

    Until you soothe my breaking heart,

Until you speak a word to cheer

    It will not, will not from you part.

My God forgives me, and does call

    My soul to live with Him on high,

But O! till you forgive me all

    I feel I cannot, cannot die!


MY SAILOR GIRL.

HAVE you seen my pretty sailor girl?

    I tell you what, she’s fine;

She says she has not got a beau

    And that she will be mine.

Her form is slender, not too tall,

    Her mein is debonair;

She does not wear a Grecian bend

    Nor fixings in her hair.

She has a little nose, just what

    A lady’s nose should be;

A set of teeth as white as foam

    That glistens on the sea. [page 92]

Her waist is not too stout nor slim,

    Nor bound with stays and bands,

But supple as her rounded arms,

    And soft and lily hands.

Her cheeks are softer than the rose,

    And just as fair to view;

And from her honeysuckle lips

    I kiss the honey dew.

Her eyes! O how can I describe

    Those coal black gems of fire!

Those rubies piercing through my heart,

    Those kindlers of desire!

She wears a little sailor hat

    With streamers flying blue;

And from the gentle words she breathed,

    I think she will be true.

O have you seen my sailor girl?

    I tell you what, she’s fine.

She says she has not got a beau

    And that she will be mine. [page 93]

THE HAUNTED CAVE.

I THOUGHT I heard a whisper in

    My chamber as I lay,

And a ghastly form of aged woe

    Was beckoning me away,—

“Young man I bid thee follow me

    Nor in this chamber stay.”

I followed far the spectral form

    Through coppice, glen and wold;

I scarcely knew my soul to breathe

    Nor felt the biting cold,

But wondered what the eager ghost

    Would unto me unfold,—

Some crime of eld, a bleachéd corse,

    Perhaps a hoard of gold.

It spake no words but “follow me,”

    Nor did it turn its head;

But through the stream, o’er lake and fell

    The phantom noiseless sped;

And as I followed, followed on

    My soul was filled with dread;

Nor did I heed the wounding thorns

    Nor feel my footstep’s tread. [page 94]

                   

“O follow, follow, follow me,”

    It muttered oft and low;

I knew not how it moved along

    So strangely did it go,

As like the solar beam that glides

    When Summer breezes blow.

The moon was shining bright and high

    With dark clouds looming round,

And ugly shadows seemed to fall

    Upon the ghostly ground,

As ’long by hoary timbers tall

    The mystic path I wound.

We reached at length a rocky cave

    O’ergrown with brier and thorn,

Where pallid moonbeams grimly fell

    ’Tween fissures old and worn,

To horrid chasms gaping wide

    By earth’s upheavings torn.

It led me on through crumbling caves

    Of ancient death and cold;

I shuddered with an awful dread

    O God, there to behold

Six wearied shadows of the past

    In conclave, as of old

We tell of robbers meting out

    There dole of bloody gold. [page 95]

“Hail! Hail!”   Then up to welkin height

    There went a thrilling cry,

“Hail ye,” replied my spectral friend

    Then all at once a sigh

Fell from each shadow of the past

    Like zephyrs when they die.

The form that took me from my bed

    Bade me to fear no ill;

But listen to the shades of death

    Who whispered all with hollow breath

Words that my heart did thrill.

“Young man,” said one of tender years,

    “Thou seest these heaps of bones;

Those hollow skulls, those broken limbs

    That moulder on these stones,

Are but the skeletons of we

    Who nightly tell our moans,

And mourn our fate and curse the wretch

    Who heard our dying groans.

We cannot rest till he is caught

    And for our blood atones.”

Then all sighed deep the heavy curse

    “Till he our blood atones.”

“Go forth and take no rest nor sleep    

    Until the wretch be found; [page 96]

Cease not the search if you should go

    The whole wide world around.

Behold my breast and view this foul,

    This deep and ugly wound,”

Then all did sigh, “Behold this foul,”

    This deep and ugly wound.”

“Our murderer lured us here by night,

    To ravish at his will;

And when his foul desire was o’er

    To torture and to kill;

And if we did not haunt this cave

    He would be at it still.

Bury our bones beneath those stones

    Bury them deep and low;

And then to earth we’ll come no more,

    At night to tell our woe;

But to the grim abode of death

    We will for ever go.

Hark!   The thunder peals aloud

    And tells us to away,

Be not afraid, but stay thou here

    Until the break of day,

And ponder well these our commands,

    And see that thou obey.

My spirit e’er will be thy guide,

    Nor will it leave thy sight; [page 97]

By day I’ll be at thy right arm

    And dwell with thee at night,

Until the monster’s crushed to earth

    And buried from our sight.”

Then up arose those shades of night,

    Each pointing to its breast;

And as they vanished slow away

    My soul was deep oppressed

With horror, terror, and affright,

    And sighed for home and rest.

My heart gave out, I swooned and fell

    Amongst those loathsome bones,

And as I lay I seemed to hear

    The sound of dying moans,

And anguished sighs and piercing cries,

    And agonising roans

I fain would rise and flee away,

    From out that horrid cell,

But as I raised my head I saw

    As if in burning Hell

A female pointing to a man

    O God! whom I knew well.

“That is the man, that is the man,”

    It said with fixéd eye;

“Go root the villain from the earth

    For he shall surely die, [page 98]

Though he to earth’s untravelled bounds

    With speed of light should fly.

Now mark him!   Mark him shun my gaze

    And turn away his head;

And note the murderer’s lurking eye,

    The coward’s fear and dread,

At seeing one so foully slain

    Uprisen from the dead.

Behold the scowl, upon his brow,

    The fear, the trembling start;

The sudden pause, the anxious glance

    That guilty deeds impart,

And see those gory hands that drew

    The [illegible] blood from my heart.”

It vanished, and as there I lay,

    O’ercome with dread and fear,

I heard a sound of mourning

    And it nearer came and near,

When with a low and stifled voice

    It whispered in my ear—

“Bury our bones beneath these stones,

    Bury them deep and low;

And then to earth we’ll come no more

    At night to tell our woe,

But to the grim abode of death

    We will for ever go.” [page 99]

And then I seemed to hear the sounds

    Of wild and bloody strife,

A shriek, a howl, as in despair

    The victim yields its life;

A gasp, a deep convulsive throe,

    And fall of bloody knife.

Thus lay I in that mouldering tomb

    Until the break of day,

When at the first faint dawn I sought

    To flee in haste away,

Nor did I in that dreadful place

    One moment longer stay.

The spectre haunts me, then I walk,

    It is close by my side;

Upon the lawn at night I see

    It slow and steady glide;

The ghastly form I see it now

    Nor from it can I hide.

It beckons, beckons, beckons me,

    And points towards the dell,

As if ’twould have me there to go,

    That it some tale might tell

Of broken vows, and guilty deeds

    And murders dark and fell.

That awful form, how shall I tear

    The vision from my eye! [page 100]

When in my bed alone I hear,

    It breathe its languid sigh,

And sob and moan in deepest grief,

    And piteously to cry.

Alas, it will not leave my sight;

    By night and day ’t is there,

The same sad, pensive countenance

    So worn with grief and care,

Still gazes with those horrid eyes

    And rends me with despair.


THE HERMIT’S MEDITATION.

’T WAS autumn time when leaves fall fast,

        And summer beauties fly;

When trees and flowers meet the blast,

        Droop in the gloom and die:

When woods are lonely and the breeze

Flits dearly ’mongst the naked trees

        And the aspens lonely sigh.

’T was from the toil of busy men

        I let my spirit stray,

To seek some deep and shady glen

        Where Sylvan courts his Fay; [page 101]

To think and meditate alone,

And list old Autumn sigh his moan

        Amongst trees hoar and gray.

The feel ones-self alone and lost

        As the night winds fiercely blow,

Or sigh for the mariner ocean tossed

        Is a pleasure none can know,

But those who have a heart to deal

With others sorrows and to feel

        The pangs of bitter woe.

It is a deep, a deep felt bliss

        My heart hath long since known,

To feel for the poor at a time like this

        And sit all sad and lone;

’Tis then I teach myself to care

For ill-used man and learn to share

        The griefs to which he’s prone.

I wandered ’long a winding brook

        That led me far away,

The Sun his course o’er ocean took

        For ’t was the close of day.

As down the main he slowly rode,

The rocks that bound the mighty flood

        Were glittering as the spray.

He thus, the glorious orb supreme

        In lustrous brilliance shone full grand; [page 102]

The billows caught his golden beam,

        And his radiance fell all o’er the land.

No bird a-nigh but sing his praise,

Nor flower nor shrub that caught his rays,

        But kissed his beamings bland.

I did but hear the warbler’s song

        Rise up the deep and shady dell,

In answer to the deep and long

        Soft whispers that the sea-nymphs tell,

Or liquid lips of Syren’s lone

Mingling with their languished moan

        The deep, great hum of ocean’s swell.

I sat me down and watched the night

        Fall softly o’er the peaceful scene;

Things one by one fell from my sight

        As stars looked from the clouds between.

Each chorist now had told his tale;

The moon arose and o’er the vale

        Shed forth her silver sheen.

As there I sat enwrapt in thought

        I heard the hermit tell his prayer,

And speak of things that he had sought

        But had relinquished in despair;

Disgusted with the faults of men

He sought this deep secluded glen

        To free himself from worldly care. [page 103]

There in this cave at night alone,

        While sitting near the holy well

He’d breathe his sighs to all unknown,

        Save but the saint within his cell.

And thus this hoary gray haired man

His descant on the world began,

        And calmly o’er his thoughts did tell:

“Roll on, roll on, thou guardian of the night,

Thou silver beaming, fairy faithful moon,

How calmly falls thy fond and gentle beam

Sweet smiling on the waters of the sea.

When all is hushed, and soft and calm repose

Broods o’er the sylvan vale, and not a sound

I heard to mar the deep serenity,

Save but the trickling of the wandering rill,

How I do feast my mind with silent thought,

And let my spirit soar up far away,

To where thou dwellest in thy tranquil sphere!

    Alas, but what a tale thou couldst unfold

If speech were given thee that thou might’st tell

What thou hast seen since first the world began.

What scenes of woe thou nightly hast beheld,

What dark intrigues of vile and loveless souls,

What bitter weeping in the lonely glen

Of maids bereft of all their earthly pride;

What murders dire and bloody villainy!

    O fair eternal moon, in this my cave [page 104]

I nightly sit and let my mind look down

With thee, pale witness of the silent night,

Upon the world and view the varied scenes

That e’er do meet thy soft and fondling beam.

    O sad, sad world, I have no part in thee

Save but to watch the moonbeams play at night

Upon the ceaseless roll of yonder waves,

That here do lap and plash upon the beach,

Then backward roll to some fair eastern clime

To kiss the pearls upon a coral shore.

I watch that wave roll on, roll on, until

’T is spent upon the sand and then recoil

With sullen lapse, and back it goes again

To lose itself upon that awful deep.

    And so it is man, he feels his strength

And in the height of power doth fearless ride

Upon the tide of fortune, till alas,

He sudden dashes on the shore of fate,

Then back subsides into that powerless thing

As first he sprung, and soon forgot is lost

Upon the vast and mighty sea of life.

How many times, O moon, hast thou beheld

The crush of woe fall on the human soul!

In O how many varied forms too hast

Thou seen those woes unburthened on the heart

Of human kind that never rose again!

    Alas, ye sons of men, look now with me.

Behold that wife, lone weeping for the man [page 105]

Who pledged his love and ever watchful care,

But who is now besotted deep with vice,

Regardless of his children, wife and home.

Look in at yonder broken pane and see

How Lunar fondly spreads her pale lone mantle

O’er those so wan and pallid cheeks, and mark

The trembling aspect of the slumbering babe!

See how it shivers in the dank cold room.

Upon a bed of straw it lies, with naught

To shield it from the keen and biting cold

But its poor mother’s garments, ragged and worn,

While through the lonesome streets with broken heart

And mind o’erfilled with bitter grief and pain

The mother paces with distraction wild

To find the author of her ruined home,

Her dying child and deep and life-long woe.

See how she pauses by the tavern door;

Hark! he is there carousing in his glee,

And urging on some vile besotted wretch

To give another song.   Upon the board

The old brown jug he taps and calls aloud,

“Come, misses, bring another quart of ale.”

Alas, ye saddest of all womankind

That have to battle with a fate like this!

Poor trembling thing, see how she silent weeps

And bitter sobs that ever she was born.

She fears to go within that loathsome den [page 106]

But yet she must; and so with trembling step

And blush of shame upon her grief-worn face

She enters slow, but falters as she steps

Within the room to meet the gaze of those

Who wink and nod and o’er her errand jest.

O poor distressèd thing, she turns away

Amid the ribald jests that meet her ears

And hies her to her desolate home

To drown her wounded soul in deepest woe

And build the melancholy of her days:

“O God!” she cries, as by the bed she kneels

Where sleeps her babe unconscious of her grief,

“O Heaven spare my dear, my darling child,

What shall I do to find it food and warmth.

Alas the thought rends through my troubled heart,

My child, my child, how shall I find it food.”

    Ah faithful moon how I delight

    To watch thee through the starry night

            Illume my lonely cell!

    While deep within the silent vale

    I hear the chanting nightingale

            Her sweetness to thee tell.

    That I may be prepared to die

    My body I do mortify

            Six times within a day,

    And when I feel the tempter near [page 107]

    The flesh upon my bones I tear

        And drive the fiend away.

    At early morn I to the wood

    And gather barks and herbs for food

            Which my good Saint hath sent;

    As I have not long to abide

    In this sad world I’m satisfied

            And feel a sweet content.

    Vile men look on me with disdain

    Asceticism they think is vain,

            Alas what fools are they!

    This life that’s given us to prepare

    To live in other worlds more fair

            They fritter slow away

    In vice and pleasures that do bring

    Upon their trail the loathsome sting

            That pains the guilty soul;

    And at the close of life’s short day

    The debt of sin they have to pay

            So sink unto their goal.

    What sweet contentment do I feel

    As to my Saint I humbly kneel

            And all my failings tell!

    A world of pleasures and of bliss

    My soul would not exchange for this

            My cave by the holy well. [page 108]

AGAIN MUST THE TEAR FALL IN SORROW AND SADNESS.

AGAIN must the tear in sorrow and sadness?

    Again must my heart feel that cold, blighted thrill?

Again must I suffer this lone inward madness,

    And will thou thus grieve me strange Eveline still?

My heart grows aweary of time and its measure,

    My soul’s bitter pang knoweth not a relief;

The object I sought as my life’s fondest treasure

    Deserts me in sorrow and laughs at my grief.

O had I the wings of Aurora, fond beaming

    Her gold on the hills at the blush of the morn,

I’d flee far away to the sphere of my dreaming

    And fain would forget that I was of Earth born.

I’ve nowhere to go where a kind welcome greeting

    Would flush with emotion the full tear from my eye;

I know not the heart that’s in sympathy beating,

    Nor is there a soul that shall breathe me a sigh.

Thus lonely I’ve wandered from life’s early morning

    And vainly have sighed for thy heart to be true;

I banish thee, still the fond impulse returning

    Fresh warms cherished feelings, I love thee anew. [page 109] 

Thine heart is unkind, unimpassioned and frozen,

    That cannot be melted by love’s warmest vow;

Alas but a soul more congenial I’d chosen,

    Instead of a thing so unloving as thou.

Go pray for thy soul, and O spare me this anguish,

    Nor ask me to know as a friend and no more,

The one at whose loss I must silently languish,

    And sigh for the peace that earth cannot restore.


SONNET.

SPRING again has come, luxuriant and beautiful,

Placid, calm, serene, delightful and so fair.

Breaths of fragrant flowers float in every air;

Birds do carol sweet, and happy seem and blest.

Sol in glory rides on his course ever dutiful,

Grandly falls away and sinks him in the west.

Insects dance and sing, and the breezes gently play

Among the leaflets green, and the happy, live-long day

Is to all unchequered peace.

But yet it has no charm for me,

I may not feel the joy I see,

Share never in the bliss.

There seemeth naught to wish, but ah! I have a call,

One, one thing is wanting, yet that one thing is all. [page 110]

SHE COMETH TO THE GRAVE.

AT fall of the even’ a maid cometh ever

    To visit the grave where her lover is laid;

A tie there is binding which death cannot sever,

    A bond that in secret and silence was made.

She kneels at the grave covered over with flowers,

    And weeps as she dreams of the evenings gone by;

And oh! as she dwells on those sweet, happy hours,

    How deep are the feelings that swell the full sigh.

The Sun golden shines on the mountains adorning,

    And beams her sad face as he dries the lone tear;

While looking to heaven so tenderly mourning,

    She bitterly sobs “O that he were now here.”

That face once so glowing with fresh, fairy sweetness,

    Is now growing pallid and hollow and wan;

Those eyes once so bright in her charming completeness,

    Look dull as she dimly the heavens doth scan.

She views the wide vault with imagery peering

    On, on far away to the realms of the fair;

Then listens as if to some angel voice cheering,

    And smiles as she dreams of her cherished one there. [page 111]

WE PARTED FOREVER.

DARK clouds ’gan to fall as the gloom gathered o’er,

    And the light’ning’s pale flashes flew wild to the sight;

Loomed heavy the thunder, hope dark’ning before,

    Stood pale, tottering, dim, till ’twas lost in the night.

O! I gazed on that face as it paled in the gloom,

And my soul stood aghast on the brink of its doom.

I clasped her warm hand with a throb of delight,

    When she cheeringly said “we shall soon meet again.”

I watched her dear form till it faded from sight,

    And I stood, aye I stood still to gaze even then.

    I was knit to the spot as if bound with a spell,

    And I felt all the loneness bereavement can tell.

I turned in deep gloom from the form that I loved,

    And to leave her indeed was my bitterest tear;

How deep is the pain to be sudden removed

    From that one treasured soul whom we cherish most dear!

    O how loathsome is life when in sadness we part,

    And how hateful the feelings that thrill the lone heart. [page 112]

Familiar old hill! when I’d mounted it well,

    I looked back, and away in the distance I saw

My love walking slowly alone in the dell;

    My heart fluttered wildly, with tremulous awe,

        And the thought bore me anguish— my God, should she die!

    O I blest her and wept with a deep, bitter sigh.

How I picture before me the time and the place

    Where forever I parted from all that was dear;

Where a last time I gazed on that meek, gentle face

    Which I’d cherished and smiled on from earliest year.

        Now in sadness I wander, distracted and lone,

        For the dear one I loved to her heaven has gone.


O MEET ME, SWEET NELLIE, TO-NIGHT IN THE DELL.

O MEET me, sweet Nellie, to-night in the dell,

    Where the swallows enchant the still air,

And conies disport on the green, mossy banks,

    O a happy retreat for the fair.

        O come when the sun rideth over the hill,

        For then all the valley is silent and still. [page 113]

Aye, come to the spot ’neath the old beechen tree,

    I will tell a sweet tale to you new,

A theme that has haunted my mind since a child,

    Lovely Nell, ’t is relating to you.

        Methinks if the heart can be seen in the face,

        A deep, growing fondness in you I can trace.

O meet me to night with your fond, pretty smile,

    Let me clasp you my own to my breast,

And kiss your sweet lips with a tenderness due,

    Then free from all doubt will I rest.

        O come, Nellie come, and this night, may it prove

        That our friendship has grown to reciprocal love.


SONNETS.

        I’M sad, and feel aggrieved, ah me!

            Still o’er me troubles roll.

        From sorrow I am never free,

        Nor shall be till the world I flee,

        And go to heaven away from thee

            And take a new-born soul.

        O me! this life is hard to bear,

        Of sorrow, I’ve a loathsome share,

            And none will me condole. [page 114]

        Incongruous work is this of thine;

            Alas thou ’rt all to blame.

        O if the cause were partly mine

        That thou for me should’st now repine,

            My soul would blush with shame.

II.

        O NEVER a heart so pure and true

        As mine, yet anxious throbbed;

        O never a passion stronger grew,

        No soul a deeper fondness knew,

        Nor e’er a charm from impulse drew

            Such tears as I have sobbed.

        O I would call thee sweet, but no,

        ’T is thou hast filled my heart with woe,

            And me of peace hast robbed.

        I had forgot to think of thee,

            And care went other way;

        Yet though thou art so cruel to me,

        I still will show thee sympathy,

            Nor spurn thy plea away.

[illustration] [page 115]

I HAD A FLOWER IN THE GARDEN OF LOVE.

IN the garden of love, once I had a sweet flower

    I nurtured with the fondest of care;

And I placed it alone in a green shady bower,

    So rich was the bud and so rare.

But alas! on a day it had changèd its form,

    The heart of the flower I loved

Was all eaten away by a cankering worm,

    Nor could the fell spot be removed.

O indeed I was sorry to part with my gem,

    And worked hard to erase the dark stain;

But it was so foul cankered, so deep was the wem

    That I left it with agony and pain.

Yes and oft even yet sad rememberance dwells

    On the time that’s for ever gone by;

And my heart is distressed with emotion that swells,

    And forces the tear from my eye.

For I feel there’s a something that’s lingering yet

    And nestles deep, deep in my breast;

And it yearns to the object I cannot forget,

    The one I loved fondest and best. [page 116]

And as long as I live the same feeling will glow,

    Now brighter, now duller the flame,

And oft with a fondness I only can know

    I fancy myself was to blame.

O the last parting word, the last kiss, the last glance

    In the face I so loved to admire,

Returns to my mind with a boding advance,

    But ah, ’t is the face of a liar.


A SIGH AND A TEAR.

YOUR vows are as nought, though you promise ’t is true,

All I can desire, or am hoping of you;

But ah, the sweet grace that would bind you most near

Is breathed from the heart through a sigh and a tear.

O give me a heart that’s akin to my own,

A love that grows high when prosperity’s flown;

A deep set affection my soul will endear,

Which softly is touched with a sigh and a tear. [page 117]

O give me a love that of constancy tells,

A heart wherein truth and pure loveliness dwells.

O give me a love that my loneness will cheer,

And soothe my sad hours with a sigh and a tear.

Don’t you know that your heart is as cold as a stone,

Devoid of all good, to passion unknown?

Indeed when did ever there fall on my ear

Sweet solace of love in a sigh or a tear?

O yet may I find the sweet one of my heart,

The one who will not in adversity part,

The soul that’s divest of mistrusting and fear,

Who balms the heart’s wounds with a sigh and a tear.

Sweet one in whose bosom I’ll rest myself sure;

Fond heart who has love that will ever endure;

A mind that is candid, unfettered and clear,

Which breathes its remorse with a sigh and a tear.

[illustration] [page 118]

THE MAID OF CHELSEA.

COME listen to me and a tale I will tell,

’T is of a young maid who in Chelsea doth dwell;

Her name I won’t mention, but this I will say

She is just as sweet as the flowers in May.

I caught but one glance of her sweet winning eye,

That glance was enough to make any man sigh;

I felt my heart beat, and a struggle within,

Then made up my mind I would go in and win.

Next evening I waited to see her come by;

My heart beat so fast, O I thought I should die;

I thought I should die if she did not come soon,

As I curled my moustache, and looked up at the Moon.

When I had been waiting one anxious long hour,

My patience o’er hope was fast losing its power;

But O that relapse but augmented my joy

For shortly she passed me, so modest and coy.

“Good evening” said I, “may I walk with you home?”

She made no reply, but I thought she meant “come,”

So I begged she would pardon my rudeness, for O,

So strong a temptation I could not forego. [page 119]

I wooed the fair angel, and made her my own,

And think you that I can live longer alone?

You know how it is, when one’s caught in the snare

Of the glance of a girl who is charming and fair.


TO MAGGIE.

           MAGGIE, darling, when I leave you,

           Think of he who loves you most;

           He who guarded you from danger;

           He who knew the bitter cost.

           When your heart is bowed with sorrow,

           And I’m sailing o’er the sea,

           Think of he who loves to bless you;

           Darling, breathe a prayer for me.

           When alone at evening sighing

           And a cloud o’ercasts your mind;

           Think of he who fain would cheer you,

           He you know is true and kind.

           Darling Maggie, years may part us,

           We may never meet again;

           Then remember he who loves you;

           He who would not give you pain. [page 120]

DEATH.

SOONER or later Death will come,

Of all our deeds to take the sum;

Sounding the conscience everywhere

Prepare for me, O man prepare.

When fixed, he casts an awful gloom,

And hands the victim to his doom.

Bribeless, impartial, favoring none,

For all are his, beneath the sun.

Dauntless, unmoved, he takes his stand,

Unerring falls his pitiless wand.

Then stays the pulse, the throbbing heart,

And bids the soul and body part.

Waiting the languid eyelids close,

He grimly notes the struggling throes.

With look dark, stern, he nods his head,

Then turns him from the gloomy bed.

His notes are made up, he snifts his nose,

His dark book seals, and off he goes,

Roaming the world by night and day—

Prepare, O man! I cannot stay. [page 121]

THE ADVENTURES OF BUN.

As I took a stroll in the forest, of late,

I saw a wild Rabbit a grieving his state;

There musing alone on the bank of a stream

Of days that were past, the old chap seemed to dream.

I walked up to him, for he ran not away,

And sat myself down, since he wished me to stay;

His tales of adventures, of childhood and youth,

He told me a-weeping, and it savored of truth.

“When quite a young Bun,” said he, dropping a tear,

I was happy and joyous, and nought did I fear:

We lived underground and our burrow was clean,

As any bun’s burrow that ever you’ve seen.

I’d twelve little brothers, and sisters but five;

To furnish our wants, many friends did contrive,

Our relative neighbors, some meal would provide,

And kind aunts and uncles would help us beside.

For alas! our dear parents were both basely shot,

Deprived of their lives, and then boiled in a pot.

My mam was put into a cloth with some dough,

And how we young children were grieved you may know.

You cannot believe such a low, base affair,

But ah, it is true, what I now do declare;

’T is shameful to say, and most awfully sad,

Quite naked they cooked in the pot my poor dad. [page 122]

Then orphans were we, left to do as we could,

But friends taught us soon to sport over the wood;

So spent we our childhood, in learning to run,

In skipping, and playing, and having such fun.

But my poor sisters and brothers were snared,

And even I too, would have similarly fared,

But knowing men’s dodges, they too in their turn

Are fooled by a Bunny who keeps in the fern.

’T is life of much jeopardy, all night and day

I’ve run here and there to get out of the way.

O my, but one night as the moon was a-rising

A dog grabbed my tail as I’s playing and poising.

O didn’t I scamper off quickly, O dear,

My heart in my mouth, and a din in my ear;

But what made it worse, I fell into a hole

And on my poor head there came tumbling a pole.

The dog was behind, and before, and all round,

But lightly I sped o’er the slimy wet ground;

Now slipping, and tumbling, and smothered in dirt,

Now head over heels with the dog at my shirt.

O ’t was a bad time, for the bloodthirsty hound

Twice pounced upon me and we rolled on the ground,

But he was so fast and I too was so quick

I left him as though he was very Old Nick.

       Another adventure with ferret and net

Oft makes me shudder, ashamed, and to fret,

For in that adventure I lost my poor tail,

So sad a mishap I must often bewail. [page 123]

I was sweeping my bedroom one bright sunny day,

And when I had done was intending to play.

But think how I felt, when I saw at my door

A yellow thing squinting and sniffling, ah sure,

That sudden affright put my heart in a flutter;

I looked at the wretch and a something did splutter,

Then punched him and told him to clear, right away,

But villain! he entered and said he should stay.

I turned myself round and gave him some hard kicks,

But while in the act on my tail he did fix;

I kicked, and I kicked, but ’t was all of no use,

I tried then to scare him by railing abuse;

But no, the soft fellow would not let me go,

But pulled at my tail and most angry did grow;

Then sudden I kicked, but it still was the same,

Thinks I this is a rather dangerous game.

I thought that indeed he would never withdraw

His horrible teeth and his adamant jaw,

I found I was pinned, and thus pinned I must stay

Could I not get at him in some kind of way.

So I flew in a rage and a terrible passion,

And went for the lad in this kind of a fashion—

“Now what do you want, or what is your mission?

And what’s to be done, in this foolish position?

Most audacious scoundrel, how dare you presume

Without my permission to enter my room? [page 124]

You low, ill-bred villain, let go of my tail!

Do you hear! why I’ll kill you dead as a nail!

I say let me go! you vile son of a slave!

You yellow-faced nigger! you cold-blooded knave!

You wont let me go? I’ll give you such a send

Right under the jaw, that will put you on end.

Jerusalem, man, now why don’t you be easy!

You would give me to think that you really were crazy,

A pulling and tearing; why don’t you keep cool

You dirty old blackguard, you blowing old fool.

O, O! double murder! blue thunder and lightning!

Hold! Hold! don’t you know that you grip is a tightening?

Take that, and take that, you unmerciful feller!”

O didn’t I give it him under the smeller!

“Keep that in rememb’rance of when we first met;

You’ll show better manners in future I’ll bet.”

I sent him sprawling heels over his head;

And sure ere he got on his pins he was dead.

O didn’t I give it him, leave that to me,

For I was determined that time to be free.

Make you no mistake, I gave him the straight tip,

And once I was free from his terrible grip

I gave it him thick, and O didn’t he wail!

I guess I paid him for the loss of my tail.

When I had gone through him I ran to the door,

But when I got there, there were dogs just before, [page 125]

And right in my path there was laid a large net;

O dear I was in a most horrible sweat.

I trembled and started, ran back in dismay,

Then bolted like lightning and got clear away.

That ass of a ferret, I left far behind,

And to him my tail I most gladly resigned.

Now think over this little tale I have told;

Don’t hurt me again, for I’m tottering and old:

I cannot say more, for I have such a cold.

Depend on it, every word’s true, I have said,

And now you can go and I’ll toddle to bed.

[illustration] [page 126]

MY LOVE LIES DOWN IN THE DEEP DARK SEA.

MY Love lies down in the deep, dark sea,

Where the night winds howl and the breakers roar,

And the face once so dear and familiar to me,

Is lost to my care, I shall know it no more.

Full foul and high the winds did blow,

The seas broke o’er the lonely barque,

Full many a soul told o’er his woe,

On that wild night so drear and dark.

They say he stood on the sea-worn deck,

They say he stood like a seaman brave,

When a wave washed over the sinking wreck,

And bore him down to a seaman’s grave.

My Love lies down in a lonely bed,

Where the silent build of ages lie;

Where a calm broods over the silent dead,

Nor sorrow prompts the heart to sigh.

Adieu my love!   We’ll meet again,

When all the storms of life are o’er;

When parting lends not pleasure pain,

And lonely souls shall grieve no more. [page 127]

GONE.

FROM AN UNFINISHED POEM.

LAST year together there we sat alone

At silent evening by the rippling brook:

The breezes whispered through the cold oak leaves

And drearily told us that the fall was near.

I held my treasured one within my arms,

And felt indeed that she was all my care.

The world and all its gaily flitting joys

Had not a charm to lure away my thoughts

From her the one, my own, my only love.

    O, I remember how she softly held

My hand within her own, and sweetly pressed

Her warm and fondling cheek to that of mine.

We sat and watched the sun fall slow behind

The hill, and gazed upon the massy folds

Of gold and crimson clouds that ’dorned the sky,

And pictured fairy scenes of hill and vale,

And lakes and rivers flowing slow along

By calm retreats and still and shady groves.

The swallows far away up high in Heaven

Disported long amongst the gilded clouds.

The lark was singing o’er his evening song,

While in the dell the sylvan thrush did chant

Its anthems o’er, as perched upon the tree

The robin told his sad and love-lorn tale. [page 128]

    “O George,” she said, “What bliss I feel as here

I fond recline me in your arms and gaze

Upon this lovely scene and let my mind

Forget all else but you in this profound,

Delighting and enraptured hour of peace.

How I delight to listen to these birds

Tell o’er their tales of love and think me one

Of them, replying with as pure a breath

As that by which they breathe their prayers to Heaven.

I’ll not be with you long, for I do feel

That soon I’ll lay my body down to rest.

And when I’m gone, at evening you will come

To my lone grave and tell your desolate thoughts,

And drop the tear of fond rememb’rance o’er

The lifeless dust of she whose every thought

Was e’er directed to your happiness.

    But George, we’ll not be parted very long,

For soon in that unchanging land above

Where death can never come to mar our peace,

We’ll meet again to tell of that pure love

Which once enkindled, cannot, cannot die.

I love you, George, and deep emotion swells

My heart, whene’er I look upon your face

And think and feel how dear you are to me.

O no, you must not let too deep and lone

A sorrow mar your life, but travel on,

And when your day on earth is done, you feel [page 129]

That you your duty here have well performed,

You then can lay your body down to sleep,

And come to me, where there no parting is,

And I will meet you at the gate of Heaven.

    Next Spring, George, you will see the swallows come,

And every sunny evening fly around

The old thatched cot, and you, ah! you will weep,

I know you will, because I am not there

To talk to you and help you to enjoy

The lone and tranquil twilight as it broods

So meekly o’er the calm and peaceful scene.

But ah, I then will be close by your side,

And if I have the power, will touch the cord

Of rapture in your breast, and bid you think

Of me, but gone a little time before,

That we may feel more deep the sense of bliss

That we will know when we do meet in Heaven

To never think of death, nor part again.

[illustration] [page 130]

AUG – 5 1965                                                                                                      [handwritten: 80]

[unnumbered page, includes illustration]

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