· s ongs and s onnets. the world of books. hen slander’s many tongues raise hue and cry, 5-74 5...

SONGS AND SONNETS

! OH N H OW E L L .

a s

LOU ISVI LLE,KY .

! OHN P . MORTON AND COM PANY ,P ram -

r uns .

1887

CONTENTS .

Th e World of Books ,Th e Socie ty of Friends ,Fa ith in Spr ing ,A Wanderer ,The High Hills of the San tee

,

Flower s,

The End of Win ter,

October,

Longings,

Indian Summer ,Beauty

,

The Children ’s Hour at the L a k e .

Arabia,

The Coming M a y,

The Jerseys,

A Baby King,

The Ocean of Time,

Unbound,

The Crui s e of the Ve s per,

Fanta s y,

4 Co nte nts .

Friends h ip ,Shakespeare

,

Light ,Napoleon ,Miracles

,

October,

Helen ,Our Red Ne ighbor s

,

A King in Death ,The Firs t Christmas ,Though t and Action

,

The Rosella ,Clara ,In the Woods,The Reapers ,Music

,

Ethel ,The Poet of the P a s t ,Thermopyl a e

,

Workmen,

Rest ,Fairy Is land s

,

On the Sea,

SONGS AND S ONNETS .

THE WORLD OF BOOKS .

HEN Slander ’ s many tongues raise hue

and cry,

5-74 5 And neighbors in the street have stony

looks ,We may contentedly let them pas s by

,

For we can find a betten -world in books .

We here may seek the great mind ’s inner

thought ;These silent pages thirst n o t l ike a pack

Of s leuth hounds,hunting u s to death for

n a ughg

But rest forever s ilent at our back .

We here may wi th Ulysses wander far,

Or with the gentle poets muse and s ing,

Or follow the bold traveler who saw

The sun ne ’er set,but to the heaven s cl ing .

So i f the smaller world shall like us less,

We may within our solitude find rest .

S o ng s a nd S o nne z‘

s .

THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS .

EIGHBORS of a higher l ife ,Hoping for a perfect peace

,

Work ing s ilent in th i s night,

Waiting for the strife to cease .

Gentle,l ike the Prince of Peace

,

Lowly , a s we all should be ,Saving for the rainy day

,

Giving alm s in charity .

May your gen tle precepts s pread

To the busy mart,the den

Where the wolves of commerce feed

On the fattened lambs of men .

Pleasure flee s when we pursue,

Bu t she come s to them that wait,

And our gen tle neighbors meet

The sweet goddess at the gate .

Spirit m ild of swee t content

Come s to ble s s the meeting,free

,

Calms the waves of discontent

On the raging human sea .

SOngs a nd S o nn e ts . 7

Let us banish from our l ives

The vain love of pomp and show,

For th i s childi s h,fal se di s play

Cause s much of human woe .

FAITH IN SPRING .

N4AYLIGHT and Spring shine on the

kg;1 world,

Tho’ to our vision all seems nigh t ;Sweet Spring to us will b e unfurled ,Its sleeping flower s start up in sigh t ;

The winter white will show—us soon

The budding landsca pe,fre s h and sweet

,

Like children rushing in a room,

And with the ir k isses our gloom greet .

Spring will come,with its bursting flowers

And flutt’ r ing breath , will l ight the lands .

Remember in deep midn igh t hours

Sunlight rests on far ocea n sands .

Have faith in Spring , in darkest hours

Birds are singing afar in bowers .

S o ngs a nd S o nn e ts .

A WANDERER .

HONOR bo th the brave and free,

And love the gloriou s liberty

The broad seas alway s give .

The world ’s a grand broad field to roam ;

The land s o firm ; the s e a , i ts foam

To s ail far o’ er and o ’ er .

To vis it every land and s hore ;To carry home in Triumph’ s car

The Roc’ s egg,treasure rare .

The air so free,to be a s it ;

To bring home laden in the sh ipThe spoil s of Indian seas .To be a r home pearls and s andal wood s

,

The rare s t gems , the costly goods

From Eastern i s land s hores ;To sing the s ong s sung by the brave,To r ight the wrongs

,to sail the waves

Till plunged beneath the deep ;To have a sepulcher s o old

,

Old Neptune’ s vault s w ill never hold

A more devoted soul .

The sea will take its wanderer home

Beneath its blue,under the foam

To find a watery grave .


The smooth green plain w ill be the strand

More broad than any monarch ’ s landUpon the world ’

s bro a d face .

The s e a s o w ide,there ’

s room to rove,

Till down in gro ttoes and in groves

The wanderer finds a home .

To sa il a way in skies and sea s,

To brea s t the waves,to rock so free

,

To rove the watery world .

To never know the bond s that hold

The spirit fas t within the fold

Of Fashion ’ s crowded aisles .

The sky above,the sky beneath

,

The air so blue,under my feet

'

The gallant carrier bark .

To s a y good bye , the breeze 15 high ,To sail away under the sky

,

Until the blue waves that I roam

Shall fl o w above my head .

I O S o ngs a nd S o nn e ts .

THE HIGH HILLS OF THE SANTEE .

N this quiet upland coun try,

Where the sweet s avannahs blow ,

Where the woodland hum is m u s ic

And the s hadows come and go !

Here the tired and weary worker

Comes to take his final leave,

Come s to hear the river running,

Far away from friends who grieve .

Here the s on s of Carolina

Have secured a s tepping - place

From the well -beloved plantation

To the silence - land of grace .

Here the warr ior and the s tatesman

Come to take their sad farewell ;They are gathered to the bo s om

Of the State they loved s o well .

And beneath the shade s of cypre s s

They are s leeping well to - nigh t,

Wai ting for a sound of trumpe t

That will call them up to light .

S o ngs a nd S o nne ts . 1 1

FLOWERS .

That p ic ture of Pau l U cce l lo ’ s of th e bat t le of S t . Egid io , inwh i ch the arm ies mee t on a l co un t r y road b es i de a hedge ofwild roses ; the tend e r red fl owers tossing abov e the he lme tsand glowing be tween the lowe red l a nces .— RUS K1N .

HE great blue dome that s tretche s o er

my head,

The stars by nigh t,th e rolling sun

by day,

Are s een no t by the quick more than the dead,

Altho ’ the beau ty ’s there

,see all who may .

Now hearts are wed to Mammon,and the eye s

That should in this great handiwork rejoice

Are seldom turned to the h igh - fl o w ing skies ;They never rais e a truly thankful voice .

Then flowers,too

,bloom in vain

,tho ’ nodding

s weet,

Are pas sed a s if they were th ings of no us e,

And pushed as ide or trampled under feet,

Are hardly seen,and are but a refuse .

Ye t bus ines s,bloody wars

,vain d isplay

,grief

,

W ill hurry life,and death bring u s relief.

1 2 S o ngs a nd S o nne ts .

THE END OF WINTER .

I .

HE winter gloom i s wrapped in s pot

le s s s now,

In dazzling br ightness,mak ing moody

thoughts

A s l igh t a s air . The cheerful evergreen s

S tanding along the lanes change for no wint e r ,But gl a dden u s acros s the plain s of wh ite .

The splendor of the sun,o ’er purple cloud s

,

Between land and sky,gild s th e broad white

ness .Can black thoughts s tay amidst a scene like

th is !

In darkest days , in longest nights , the s now

Come s to enl iven , and to rival heav e n

I tself in robe s of beau ty .

II .

Soon the s un

Will mel t away this carpet of the earth,

Life will s tart in every field and wood .

And then Spring , that never - fail ing godde s s

Of the earth,come s

,touch ing with magic wand

S o ngs a nd S o nn e ts . 13

Cold,sle e ping nature . Th e n the murmuring

hills

W i ll l a ugh in gladness,and upstarting flower s

Will sm i l e at us with joy . Yes,she w ill come

,

And from her lap w ill fl ing with blooming

arm s

H e r j ewels to the wood s , making the del l s

! ui te overflow with verdure , and meadow s

A s hee t of living green . She come s serene,

Fa nning w i th warmer breath the flowers Spring

ing

Fre s h to meet her ; come s to flu s h the flora

Of th i s world , as a greater K ing w ill come

To us,rai s ing u s up from de a th to life .

OCTOBER .

HE golden wood s are rich and gay,

The beauty deepens as it fl ie s ,Like dolphin in the ocean ’ s spray

Turns wondrous colors a s it dies .

The flowers have died . the birds have flown

To fairer bowers,to greener leas

,

Where waving orange blossoms blow

About in summer’ s fragran t breeze .

I 4 S o ngs a nd S o nne ts .

Kind hearts are s a d a s nature d ie s

When winter comes as death they mourn,

And spr ing like re s urrection sm il es

To celebrate creation ’ s dawn .

’Tis death in life

,and when we s ink

Beneath the flower s s o peacefully,

We will have faith when we bu t think

That we shall ri s e up joyfully .

Swee t nature goe s to rest in peace,

! Bu t when she wake s ’tis ecstasy

To hear the b ird s that never cease

To celebrate the jubilee .

LONGINGS .

IS s aid w ild b ird s in a cage

Know the s eas on of the year

When they should to s unny clime s

Wing their way high in the air ;

That the l ittle things keep upFlutt

’r ing s of the wings all day ,

Knowing they shou ld then be OE

With their comrade s on the way .

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16 S o ngs a nd S o nne ts .

BEAUTY .

N o t that fai r fi e ldOf Enna , where P rose rp in e gatheri ng fl owe rsH e rse lf a fai rer fl owe r , by gloomy D i sWa s gathered —M ILTON .

ADAME DE STAEL,the gifted

,sa id

one day

She would give all her talents for

the prize

Of beau ty,though the poore s t woman may

Po s se s s it,and not from low s tation ris e .

Plain ones,take comfort

,for a great duke

s purned

Sweet Georgiana,who w a s wed unto

H is Grace of Devonshire,who s e love soon

turned

To hate,and led her but a life of woe .

Beauty is often like a two - edged sword,

Enticing,then both down together fall

Into the unknown depth s , where angry roarThe waters

,covering alike them all .

Love for the plain ones is a real th ing,

Wh ilei

b e a uty’s admiration oft takes wing .


THE CHILDREN’

S HOUR AT THE

LAKE .

VENING,w ith the sunset’ s red ,

Tunes our heart- str ings high and gay,

As a happy ch ildish throng

Forms for march in gentle play .

March ! The merry pagean t moves ;Each one overflows with glee

,

Walking in the blissful swell

Of the music’ s fantas y .

Promenading two and two,

Happy eye s so full o f glee,

Life looks long,and life looks bright

,

Spirits running high and free .

Gently falling into l ine,

Forming for the children’ s dance,

How they ’ re longing for the fun,

Joy beams forth in every glance .

Violins str ike up the air,

Cheerful,l ike the woodland’ s lay ;

As the children waltz abou t,

Life se ems but a hol iday .

3


Music flows,now streaming out

On the evening sunset red,

Mixing with the sky and n ight,

Joining with the children ’s tread .

Should the Indians now return

To this happy hunting- ground,

They would wonder at the noise

And the merry,laughing s ound .

Now we trust the swelling note

Moving over lake and lea

Does not haunt in Nature ’ s bower,

Piercing to her mystery .

Still the mus ic rises on ,On to sweeter ecstasy

,

Clo thing Nature with the spell

Of her magic sophistry .

Yet the children happy seem ,

And the l ittle birds without

Wonder what the nois e can mean,

And the joyous,merry shout.

S o ngs a nd S o nne ts . 19

ARABIA .

T o th e m who s ai l

B eyond the Cap e of H op e,and now are pas t

M oz ambiqu e , o ff at s e a nor theas t wind s blowSabean odor s from th e spicy shoreOfA raby th e B Ie s t .

-M ILTON .

HE deep blue sky,stretching far o ’er

th e sands,

With large,glowing stars shining near

and bright,

There show the way to w inding caravans

Across the trackless wastes,long thro ’ the

night .

The Mahometan there,at s ound of bell

,

H is dark face turns to Mecca , toward that

stone

Caaba that stands beside the ho ly well

Z emzem,so named from its sw eet music

tone .

The faithful call,

“Allah,akbar

,Islam

,

At the hour when th e se bowing millions

think

They then submit to God,and honor him

Low prostrate,a nd thu s inspiration drink .

Ar a by’s shores a r e perfumed

,bu t her sands

Waft her children in poor wander ing bands .


THE COMING MAY.

T spring’s awakening

The birds come always first,

Amongs t the trees warbl ing

As though their throats would burst .

Upon the greensward bright

The children weave in play

Gay chains of flowe ry l ight

To deck the coming May .

A distant childish voice

Comes over rosy seas,

I t bids my soul rej oice

With thoughts of other leas .

My fancies gently roam

A murmur in my ears

A longing for the home

And j oys of early years .

The songs of other Mays

Come sounding back from yore,

As on life’s nights and days

We pass the blooming shore .


When winter’ s w ind fierce blow s

The fireside scarcely cheers ;The voice of first love grows

Much louder wi th the years .

I weave her with th e hours,

Her dreamy face is there,

As spr ing waves through the flowers,

And songsters float in air

S a d fancies twine round now ,

Her coffin ’neath th e lea,

My thoughts so co nstan t sow

The fields that were to be .

I know the world i s fair,

With h ills of l iv ing-

green,

The clouds float high in air

Through sunlight so ser ene .

The fountains in the sun

Play with the ir glad delight,Then stars come one by one

To make the j eweled n ight .

The earth now laughs in glee,

And fl ings up flowers of gold ,O love is always free ,And springs are never o ld !

2 1


The flowers are always mute,

Tho ’ l iv ing fresh in spring,

While birds l ike harp and flute

Keep up the constant ring .

The flowers are yet a l ive“

The same a s birds that sing,

And give unto the hive

The s weetness of the spring .

’T was ju st before the June

,

At ruddy close of day,

Sh e,laden with the bloom

,

Came bringing home the May .

And though we older grow,

And s h e h a s rested long,

Her cheeks l ike roses glow

And bloom within my song .

I would not give my dead

For fairest living bride

That stands,deep blushing red

,

Decked at the altar’ s side .

Her sister flowers lie s till

In w in ter on her mound,

When spr ing notes ring out shril l

The flowers start at the sound .

S o ngs a nd S o nne ts .

Perhaps the fault is mine,

That I have l ived too long,

And having passed my prime

My soul flames up in song .

When music stirs my soul

I t wakes forgotten dream s,

That from my spirits roll

And flow in golden streams .

I faintly hear her s ing,

I heard her when a boy,

But strains I now hear ring

Are not the sounds of joy .

The airs of early years

Oft murmur by the hour

Within my weary ears

And challenge all my power .

I f singing then be wrong,The wild b irds with their airs ,

Whose l ives are only song,

Should answer in the ir prayers .

Then gardens full of flowers

Were wav ing in my sigh t,

But now in long past hours

They lay in distant night .


Ulysses who w a s tied

By comrades to his mast ,Heard songs that never died

From s irens as he passed .

From h i s sad journeys long

What wonders he has told,

The s iren s’ lovely song

Within him deeply roll ed .

’T i s wel l indeed for me

The Muses came to e a rth,

That poetry i s free,

And rhythm had its birth .

The sorrows round the heart

That throb through night and

In ver s es oft depart

And gently fly away .

The days and nights of l ife

Now simply come and go,

My mind draws pictures bright,

And paints in ruddy glow .

A picture that in fact,

Without the mu sic ’s lay,

Looks only white and black,

Between the night and day .

4

2 6 S o ngs a nd S o nn e ts .

In music - tones it seems

To be in colors gay,

And from the whiteness gleams

A rainbow for the day .

And from the stars of night,

The time when mourners weep,

It weaves a ve il of ligh t,

A canopy for sleep .

As twilight breaks at sea,

And lights the distan t morn,

Hope often come s to me

As faintly as the dawn .

S a d Dante , the divine ,H i s love s a w but one day ,

And that before her pr ime,

Sh e pas s ed near where he lay .

The praises he has sung

Will r ing out for all time,

And lyre s are ever strung

To join in with h i s rhyme .

Are words of mine then vain

For her who,now away ,

In s un s hine and in rain

With me walked night and day !


It seems a passing show,The stars

,the earthy crust

,

All changing as they go,

And rolling into dust .

The throbbing a nd the moan

Of ocean on the land,

With flowers so kindly sown

By a w ise master hand .

The insect of a day

That frolics in the light ,With w inge d noiseless play ,Then sinks in death at night.

But my love died in morn,

Before her lay was sung ,A few years only born ,Her day had ju st begun .

I f I could bu t go down

To mystic realms of death,

And seek until I found

And rescued my lost wealth .

But death will hold its own,

Will keep her till the end,

Will not by sign or tone

A word of comfort send .


Sh e , young and very swee t ,Fell in the grave from me

,

And shall we ever meet

Through all eternity !

As long as I keep breath

I ’

l l hope on till the end,

And in the hour of death

Would to her comfort send .

As ship in distant seas

Sails past the lovely isles ,The fragrance of the breeze

Blows o’er the s h ip for miles .

But soon the i s les are seen ,With sunny peaks thereon

,

To sink beneath the green

In sh ine of evening sun .

The islands seemed so fair

While the ship passed them by ,But soon they float to air

In d istant sea and sky .

The sailor s till looks back ,With long ing loving glance ,

Across the fiery track ,Beneath the sun - ray’s dance .

S o ngs a n o7S o nn e ts .

My heart that seemed to break

Is now withou t a sigh,

My spirit peace would take

And float on with the sky,

The heaven ’ s sunset red,

Soft daffodil,and blue .

I s nature with my dead !

O love,it lives w ith you !

A far in amber west

The sun appears to die,

Sh e whom I love the best

Has mingled w ith the sky .

Within the s unset glow,

Deep in the flaming sea,

My spir it seeks to go

To immortality .

2 9

30 S o ngs a nd S o nn e ts .

THE JERSEYS .

HE Jerseys,the Jerseys are gloomy

to - night,

The p ine fire s are burning with s o r

r o wful ligh t,

The ocean is beating a mournful low roar,

A s ong th a t ’

tw ill s ing after we are no more .

The land is quite dreary,the ocean is worse ,

The vessels are to s s ’d on a dangerous coast ,The ir beacon lights beckon so gently to me

As I watch them intently,far ou t at sea .

The cabin - boy looks at the l ights on the shore ,And he knows its the home o f s ome one . The

roar

Of deep - tossing wave shuts them out from his

v iew,

And he turn s to sleep with the re s t of the crew .

This sea - coast so barren is pleasant to me ,The ocean ’s broad waste sets my ligh t fancy

free,

My thoughts go out seaward and come back

no more,

The burden has left me I brough t to the shore .


THE OCEAN OF TIME .

Fu l l fathom fi v e thy fathe r l i e s ;Of h is bones ar e cora l mad e ;

Those are p earls that we re h is eyes ;N o th ing of him that do th fade

B u t do th suffe r a sea- changeI nto some th ing rich and strange .

S e a - nymph s hourly ring his k n e l l !H ar k ! now I hear them— ding, dong , be l l .

THE TEMPEST ,

HE cloud - capped towers upon the

land so firm

Will pass away l ike the s light ocean

wave,

For Time will bring us all to h is low term ;From his s ure ed ict noth ing can we s ave .

H is billows roll alike o’ er land and sea ;We are bu t dreams

,and flow on with the tide .

We look far o ’er a sea of poetry

Whose billows roll s o c e a s l e s s far and wide .

Beneath the waves,in coral grotto deep ,

Where wreck s are strewn and gems have

turned to eyes ;Where seaweed twines m id s t s hells

,and none

e ’er weep

For them that re s t , quite undis turbed by s igh s .

But the sea moaning,deathless in its knell

,

Tells of the life now resting in its dell .

S o ngs a nd S o nn e ts . 3 3

UNBOUND .

HERE lies a lovely lake midst wooded

hills

And peaceful farms,where dull

,can

kering care

Never enters . There the fisherman dreams

Away the daylight ; there the sloping hill s

And laughing water s never knew th e din

Of commerce ; the sleepy air lulls one ; l ike

The lo tus - eaters we lose all de s ire

For n a tive land . To live i s bl iss ; moments

Fly in mu s ing . The waters,und e fil e d

By s tream s of blood,retain their purity .

At evening,when the lake

“

reflects the fire

Of heaven,music charms us

,its strain s flow

Clear into each breast . Sorrows and de s ires

Flee with mu sic and leave th e troubled heart .How the sweetness of the swell fills the mind

To overflow ing,and the sadder strain s

Grow soft with j oy . Happy place,where mem

ory

Casts i ts burdens and l ife is ecstasy !

O lovely spot,where music cures

,troubles

Fly away,and ambition i s not known !

There we find rest,a flowery way to heaven .


THE CRUISE OF THE VESPER .

T five o’clock one morning

The Vesper sailed away ;She looked so tall and s tately

Wh ile pas s ing ou t the bay .

Her s ides were s trong and oaken ,The sailor s seemed so bright,

They gladly rais ed the top s ail s ,Their hearts were bounding ligh t

They s ailed ou t on the ocean ,Wh ich

,l ike the sea of Time ,

Calls loved ones to its bo s om

From every land and cl ime .

There was no s torm nor tempest ,And no one saw a wreck ,

And no one brought a mess age

From 05 the Vesper’ s deck .

The sailing of the Ve s per

Was a funeral march

Out to the depths of ocean ,Beneath the coral’ s arch .


FANTASY .

NE night in troubled sleep,afar

,

Came dis tant mu s ic,low and grand

,

A rosy l ight came streaming down

From where the choirs of heaven stand .

A band of spi rits slowly chant

A hymn of comfort,words of peace

,

To one who weary of this life

Lay long ing for a resting place .

The angels be ckoned,showed the way

,

I rose to go,when suddenly

A wind of night air co ldly swept

Near where I lay,alarming me ;

I turned,a siren speaking low

,

Wh i spered,

“Not yet,O stay awhile .

Then the bright spirits,coming near

,

Bade me to follow,sang

,and smiled .

A weird voice near me whispered low,

They are but phantoms,things of l ight .

0 stay upon the earth a time ,0 do not go with them to - night .


The angels sweet then moved to go,

At me looked longingly and sad,

Unto me ra ised a farewell song ,“ O come

, 0 come , and leave the bad !!

Their arms they held temptingly low,

To carry me with them above,

And looked so pl eadingly,then th e word

,

While carol ing their songs of love .

They slowly marched up in the light,

Oft looking back with farewell eyes,

So sadly waving their adieu ,They gen tly ro s e up to the skies .

The s hadow s dark then clo s ing in

Found me alone in s olemn gloom,

The voice was hushed that b a de me stay,

The darkness only filled my room .

Why d id I stay ! that was the time

For me to ris e from earth on high

O why came demons of the night

When angels sweet were s weeping nigh !

I now am chained to th ings of clay,

I often hear in dead of night

The sound of demons gliding past,

But nevermore those s p irits light.


FRIENDSHIP .

FT when a pri soner is brough t

Before a justice of the peace

He has a friend,a fri end in need

,

Who gives the bail and thu s release .

Although the world i s very cold,

And men are striving night and day,

The chains of friendsh ip still bloom on

As though they had from Eden strayed .

He is alone,yes

,s a d

,alone

,

Who knows not one whose eyes grow bright

At his familiar footsteps ’ tread,

Whene ’er it sounds in d a y or night .

Yet in this world there n o w are some

Who know no welcome,know no home .


SHAKESPEARE .

Your tale,s ir

,would cure deafn es s .

THE TEMPEST ,Act I .

SHAKESPEARE ! what a tale for us

i s wrough t

From ou t your words,words that w ill

never d ie ;In happiness our j oys may here be taught

To rest on wing,or yet st ill higher fly .

In sorrow,consolation here doth reign

,

For man is but a pipe for fortune’ s play,

And all the fancies that float through the brain

May here take s hape and have the ir little

day .

When the poor heart i s full , a s if to burst

Its confine s,he will solve the problem hard .

In the long march of time you th dances first

And age creeps on the last,all in this bard .

The fancy floating,Nature’ s passing show

,

Have here a record with the ir joy and woe .


NAPOLEON .

IS,s aid the great Napoleon had a plan

To found a broad empire in the far

Eas t,

And o ’er the teem ing mill ion s of that land

Reign year s,and not on St . Helena ceas e .

H is desir‘

e Europe ’ s empire could no t fill ;For in this l ife all s ucce s s that we glean

Will not be that for which we had the will,

For what we in our childhood oft did dream .

The legend says that when Ulysse s wen t

To lower regions down,and had to choo s e

A station for h is l ife,he there did scorn

High place,and it with w ill ingne s s d id lo s e .

He chose that of a common countryman,

Who had not much to do upon h i s land .


MIRACLES .

HE age of miracles is always here

S e e,flowers spring noiseles s up

,the

cause unknown ;That s owing dragon ’s teeth did armed men

rear

Is no more strange than grain where s eed

wa s sown .

And water that seem s dead,yet qu ick sea

waves

Show l ife i s there ; but the great l ife i s man’ s,

When wis dom from the lower pa s sion s ave s,

For Ne s tor should giv e __

H e r cul e s his plan s .

The farmer has strong fai th who to the a ir

H is s eed sow s broadcast , and the harvest

yields ;And i t i s well he does not see the car e

That the good morrow in the darknes s

sh ields .

We can be s ure of noth ing ; all that seems

Is no more true than were our las t nigh t ’ s

dream s .


OCTOBER .

HE branches droop low in the gold o f

October ,The woods now s tand ripe in the

low shining s un,

The birds sweetly s ing a requiem for nature

And soft breezes waft webs the spiders have

spun .

The sun takes his course l ike a golden ball

rolling,

The birds are now flocking to fly from the

n igh t,

The red and the gold flames s o high in Octo

ber,

On earth and on heaven reflecting the l ight .

S o ngs a nd S o nn e ts . 43

HELEN .

ENEATH the Southern skies fair

Helen dwells,

The fairest of the Southern flower s

to me ;Sh e decks soft mossy banks w ith beauty’ s l ight

,

And presses warmer sands ’neath spangled

night .

Sh e meets the coming spring fresh at the gate,

And bright green nature welcomes,hand in

hand ;Perhaps affi nity ’ tween her and earth

Inspires her heart with vernal love and mirth .

Sh e loves the spring , the spring loves her as

well,

They waltz together on the grass so green,

They ’re kis s ing,youth to you th in blis s so gay

,

Their touch ing is the dawn of coming May .

0 Bowers of Roses ! Banks of Primrose sweet !

0 bloom for her ! Her Spring and your s are

one !

Sh e blooms to beautify the paths of life,

A s violets on battle - fi e ld s of strife.


The Spring now claps i ts hands in newborn

glee ;The Southern breeze blows far from balmier

clime s ;It wafts the unheard tidings of my love

From sunnier lands,with laugh ing blue above .

OUR RED NEIGHBORS .

HEY came in the morning

Just a s the day dawned,

And pitched,near the meadow

,

Their tents on our lawn .

We s a w in the dim l igh t

Their tents on the green,

They stood in the ir whitene s s

In sunshine serene .

Perhaps they ’r e return ing

To claim what is the irs,

Or why on our meadow

Would they spread their wares !

Or why in the dayl igh t,

So early in dawn,

Would they nestle gen tly

On our quiet lawn !


All that day we waited

So peaceful to see

What move our red neighbors

Would make on the lea ;They plaited their baskets

And worked at their beads,

And smoked there the peace - pipe

Out under our trees .

Next morn we rose early

When 10 ! they were gone .

The grass waved as ever

O ’er meadow and lawn ;The red children left us

In peace as they c ame,

And never more visit

Our quiet gre e n plain .

Oft in the blue morning

The sun rise s bright ,And roll s from the mountains

The m i st in my s igh t,

And shines o ’er the woodland s

S o peaceful and light ,I wonder where travel

Our fr iends of one night .


They never have come back

To visit our lawn,

To pitch ’neath the greenwood

Their ten t s in the dawn ;They came here so gen tly

And left as they came,

We know no thing of them

Not even the ir name .

A KING IN DEATH .

’ER ocean ’ s depth s

,on far o ff rocky

isles

Whose peak s ri s e heavenward , ther e

once dwelt a king,

O tho,the well - beloved

,who one eve

When the s un sank in beauty in the sky,

Had h is throne brough t forth and p laced on

h igh rocks,

From there to behold the royal s plendor

Of s inking s un— looked upon the grandeur

A s a king look s unto king . The s hips sailed

By with the ir purple sail s,and all seemed peace ,

H i s head drooped slowly,his eyes were set deep

Into ocean ’ s vaults . There he sat and gazed


Thi s i s the br ightest gem

That sh ines with in our n ight,

Withou t thee all ’ s despair

O s hine out,feeble l igh t !

When terror s surge around,

And darkness cover s me

I s e e that small bright s tarThat s parkle s ou t s o free .

THOUGHT AND ACTION .

There are few who hav e at once thought and capaci ty foraction . Though t e ! pands bu t lames ; action animates bu t narr OWS .

- GOETHE .

N the far Orien t,where kings s till s way

Their s ubjects poor w i th iron hand

bOld , 1

They s it upon the ir throne s until thi s day

As if they had been cut from marbl e cold .

It has been said that work we’ ve here per

formed

I s far too great for the re s ult attained .

When we have made our plan s and had them

fo rm’

d,

The time has come to leave what we have

gained .

S o ngs a nd S o nne ts . 9

Few of the though ts that wander thro ’ our s ouls

Ever take s hape or come up‘

to the light .

Our thought ’ s a flowing sea that ebbs and rolls

Into the daylight fir s t,then to the night

,

I t may be brigh te s t thought,like brightest bird

,

In never rai s ing voi’

ce is never heard .

THE ROSELLA .

N the meadow near the village

Runs the sweet Rosella bright ;How it sparkles in the dayligh t

,

Creeping first to left then righ t ;Now it murmurs in the whirlpool

,

Now i t rests in pl a cid calm,

Like the greater stream of l ifetime

Through Fortuna ’ s fickle land .

Through the moun tain gorge it thunders

Like the powerful hand of Time,

Running to our peaceful meadows,

Anxious for the bright sun s h ine .

In this shady pool I ’m looking

At my picture in its prime,

I t reflects quite o ther features

Than the one in l ife ’ s springtime .


How it glances with sweet rapture

At the fl o we r l e t on its bank ,Prouder of its daisy decking

Than a high peer of h i s rank .

There ’ s a secret in its murmur ,It s eem s trying hard to tell

Something cool and quite consoling ,For I know the voice so well .

Often in the midst of struggle,

Pausing in the din of l ife,

I quite plainly hear the gurgle

Of my s weet Rosella bright .

Now the mystic s tream s eem s flowing

Close beside my stream of l ife ;I expect to hear its moaning

When I turn aside from strife .


CLARA .

IGH up in the light blue of heaven

My thoughts oft go fly ing through

s pace

To the unknown land of hereafter,In dreams of my C lara’ s sweet face .

O Clara,I wi s h you were w ith me

,

We would soar and s ing on the way ;The peace now within me forever

Would charm u s in quiet and stay .

The harvest in fields is now ripening,

And Clara stands breast- h igh in grain,

The golden sun streams down upon her,

Her beauty baptizing from stain .

I wish I _ k n e w what time will give her,I hOpe i t will wrap her in blis s ,

That she never might wake from dreaming

Till Death gives his sure silent kiss .


IN THE WOODS .

ITHIN these solemn s hades the grand

oak s s tand

In maj esty,the high arched boughs

o’e r h e a d

Bend o ’er us a s we walk and muse beneath

The dome s of green . Al l seems st ill and lonely,

Bu t when we listen then we find these bowers

No t tenantle s s,bu t fairie s of the woods

On ev ’ry s ide As we walk the song- bird

Sound s its loud warn ing , and the noisy world

Of life seems gl iding quietly away .

These deep green shades are healing for the soul,

A sanctuary where the wounded rest .

Man seems so small beneath the s e giant trees ;These shadows are so friendly when we come

From ou t the busy hives of men . High up

In air above the latticed green we see

The living blu e , s o bright , s o pure , and free .

O who would wi s h for fairer world than this,

For this seems Paradise ! The leaves beneath

My feet,the wood - b ird ’ s no te

,the insect hum

,

The sunligh t through the trees,all are so lovely .

This i s for us a resting- place in life,

A cloister for the soul .


THE REAPERS .

EAR th e song of the reapers,

While on their way to the fields !

Hear their s weet voices ringing

Praise for the good harvest yield !

S e e the morn light - blue breaking

Over the glad rested earth !

S e e th e birds r i s e fre s h s inging ,Hail ing the far dawn with m irth !

These disciples of Saturn

Reap of the gold - ripened gr ain,

Taking home for the s torehouse

Treasures of sunshin e and rain .

But the Great Reaper ’ s harve s t

Gathers alike rip e and young,

Bearing them home together,

The harvest song yet unsung .

Soon we shall all be taken ,Alike the good and the bad

,

Trusting be left forsaken,

Downcast made even more sad .

5 3


In the gardens of heaven

The young will remain there young,

R ipe grain kept there in fullness,

And heaven ’s harvest- song sung .

MUSIC .

EAR the tone s as they s oftly

S ink deep in to every breast,

Fill ing us all with longing

Hope for a far - o ff rest .

Oft in the mi s ty darkness

Can I hear the string s at play,

Bear ing me o ff so gently

To pleasure lands away .

Soothe now our souls s o re s tle s s

With a sunny s outhern lay,

Over a to s sing ocean

Flow on and cheer the way ;

Fan us wi th wings outstretching

To sleep on your unseen t ide ;Fly away to a stil lness

Over l ife ’s ocean wide .


I‘

HE POETS OF THE PAST .

LOVE the bards who s ing

Of youth and beauty brigh t ,Who drink the cup of joy

,

And hail the morning light .

The lyres are blest that ring

With everlasting peace,

That tune us to the chords

Of ecstasy,then cease .

Once harpers sang the lay

Of knigh ts and deed s of arms,

But now they ’re s ilent all

Beneath the mystic charms .

The lyres once struck the air,

“On,on to Palestine ! !

Now min s trel,knight

,and saint

Lie leveled down by time .


THERMOPYLZE.

T was a fool ish deed,

They knew they could

The hero b lood ran free

Amidst the battle ’ s din .

These were all precious live s ;They built an altar high

Upon the mountain pas s,

Beneath the Grecian sky ;

They taugh t a lesson well,

Which we should heed to day ,That Freedom has a price

Too great for l ife to pay .

Amidst the selfi sh strife

We see in daily trade,

How bright seems that fair morn

In Grecia’ s mountain glade !

That was a glorious day

That broke on deeds so brave ,I ts l ight is shining now

On history ’ s l iving page .

8

5 7


O bless those grand old braves

Who died for you and me,

And might we die as well

To keep our country free !

WORKMEN .

HE flowers upon the meadow keep

ro l ling in their bloom,

The breezes from the hil ls ide are blow

ing the perfume

To one weary of the fight,the daily strife for

bread,

To whom the earth looks bright l ike the heaven

overhead .

The blue is always cheerful,there must be

something wrong

That mor tals can not frolic like warblers in

their song ;All nature is so peaceful

,so happy

,and s o

strong,

Though we are part of nature,the mission is

not long .


The sky now flows above us,the blue sinks

into me,

The sailor midst the wave s r olls into eternity,

He sink s into the sea he loved,the azure o ’er

the lea

Is my beloved ocean,fast flowing over me .

At toil,O happy workman ! the world is brigh t

for you ;In morn

, 0 happy plowman ! the grasses in

their dew

With brilliants strew your pathway,set for the

toiler ’ s cheer,

Who walk the face of nature,so honest with

out fear.


REST .

HE pines are tall and stately,they seem

to touch the blue,

They beckon down so gen tly,and bid

us to be true .

We sit here mildly gazing up to the s k y s o

brigh t,

And s e e the brigh t s un s etting ; i t rolls on to

the nigh t .

The sunlight pours upon us its bl is s ful happy ray,

The though ts keep soaring upward upon that

unknown way,

That all our predecessor s have trod up to the ir

God,

As now we l ie here dreaming upon the wood

land s o d .

The wood,the lake

,the harve s t

,all lend their

magic s pe ll

To weave the strong enchantmen t that holds

us here so well .

O may it ne ’er be broken ; that we migh t pass

away,

Mix with the sod beneath us,and be at rest

to - day .


FAIRY ISLANDS .

OME le t us sail o ’ er the dark blue

ocean,

S ail for th e island s where all may be

ble s t ;There we may realize childhood ’s longing

,

Perhap s we may dream and evermore rest .

Where are the friends youthful days oft prom

ised,

Loves n ever came that we hoped to esteem,

The islands m a y give the long - sought treasure,

Place in our arms the swee t idol of dreams .

Draped are the isles wi th low hanging cypress,

Palm trees bow down wi th the ir weight of

perfume,

Breezes blow from us sad recollect ions,

Flute tones fall s oft over meadow s abloom .

I s lands are floating like joy s in the future ,Till the horizon shuts them o il

“

from view

Now hear the mu sic,and feel the longing ;

Come le t u s reach them,or s ink ’neath the

blue .


ON THE SEA .

HE s e a ! where the wild bounding

breakers

Das h up to our portals w ith glee,

We laugh with the sunbeam s that sparkle,

And dance on the azure so free .

O barque with your sails of pure whitene s s

Recalling to me the fair lands

Where breezes are heavy with perfume

That blow over tropical sands !

We rise and we fall w ith the b illows ,And plow through the foam of the sea ;

The sun breaks so bright in the morning ,And l ights up the ocean for me .

My heart rises high with the breakers

O why does i t ever so chide !

We ’ ll j o in with the cl ear rush ing breezes ,And glide with th e fast flowing tide .

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