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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sylvan Cabin, by Edward Smyth Jones
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sylvan Cabin
+       A Centenary Ode on the Birth of Lincoln and Other Verse
+
+Author: Edward Smyth Jones
+
+Contributor: William Stanley Braithwaite
+
+Release Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #26036]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SYLVAN CABIN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by K Nordquist, Diane Monico, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SYLVAN CABIN
+
+[Illustration]
+
+EDWARD SMYTH JONES
+
+
+
+
+THE SYLVAN CABIN
+
+A CENTENARY ODE ON
+THE BIRTH OF LINCOLN
+
+AND OTHER VERSE
+
+
+BY
+EDWARD SMYTH JONES
+
+
+WITH INTRODUCTION BY
+WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE
+
+[Illustration]
+
+BOSTON
+SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY
+
+1911
+
+
+
+
+Copyright, 1911
+
+SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+THE HON. ARTHUR P. STONE
+
+Justice of the Third District Court
+
+Cambridge, Massachusetts
+
+[Illustration: (signature)]
+
+Edward Smyth Jones
+Boston, Mass.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+A poet that comes through a unique experience, as so many poets have,
+and very recently as the author of this volume has, arrives through
+his personality rather than his work at a precipitate sort of fame
+that may serve his talents well or serve them ill. To know that a man
+was sent to jail as the consequence of a passionate desire to go to
+college, and that that desire involved the tramping of dusty and
+hungry miles, adds to the interest to the man that cannot fail in some
+significant way to set a glamor upon the poet. Poetry is made out of
+experience--the experience of dreams, of action, of desires and hopes
+baffled on the inexplicable sea of circumstance; in these latter the
+dream is as the spirit, and the man whose art becomes an expression of
+all he has realized in living, his experiences become something more
+than art, they are the subtle rendering reality that is truth.
+
+In these poems of Mr. Jones' it is that which gives them a unique
+value because they are in a deeply essential manner the rendering of a
+human document, as all poems must be, of an individual who speaks
+universally. I emphasize this quality first because art registers its
+worth by the vitality of its substance. If the substance be vital,
+then its embodiment is artistically successful to the degree in which
+the maker has felt his experiences. These poems, then, will come to
+many readers with a freshness, with the appeal for a certain sympathy
+that will compel attention. The opening poem which celebrates the
+centenary of Lincoln's birth, with its fine imaginative sweep, is as
+good as any poem I have seen which that occasion called forth. In it
+is poetry that ought to assure Mr. Jones' future if circumstances
+permit him to cultivate an art for which nature has so obviously
+endowed him. "The Sylvan Cabin" in spirit may be said to characterize
+the author's book; that upward striving toward the ideal, which taking
+a personal expression in his own experience, in his own hopes, has
+also a larger significance in voicing the aspirations of those for
+whom, as is shown in many other poems, he becomes a voice, a
+representative.
+
+Mr. Jones' work has already won for him the approbation of many
+literary people, his poems having appeared from time to time in
+various publications; this fact not only justifies his gathering them
+together in this volume, but being so recognized must fill him with a
+certain assurance for the future. To this I can only add that, good as
+these are, they give us the hope for better from one who ought
+certainly to go on and upward.
+
+            WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE.
+
+_Boston, April 5, 1911._
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                 PAGE
+
+THE SYLVAN CABIN                                    9
+
+LIFE IN A DREAM                                    22
+
+THE MORNING STAR                                   24
+
+TO ESTELLE                                         25
+
+A SONG OF THANKS                                   27
+
+NOT YET A POET                                     32
+
+A BOUQUET                                          33
+
+AN ODE TO THE SOLDIERS' AND SAILORS' MONUMENT      34
+
+TO A FADED FLOWER                                  37
+
+DAINTY DORA                                        39
+
+THE VIOLIN                                         40
+
+WOMAN                                              41
+
+THE BACHELOR'S SONG                                45
+
+PUT NOTHING IN ANOTHER'S WAY                       47
+
+FLOATING WITH THE GALE                             50
+
+LULA JOHNSON'S SONG                                53
+
+A TRIBUTE TO DUNBAR                                57
+
+WERE I A BIRD                                      59
+
+AN ODE TO ETHIOPIA                                 62
+
+TO J. S. B.                                        72
+
+THE MAYOR'S RING                                   73
+
+WHAT'S THE USE?                                    74
+
+O GOD, WILT THOU HELP ME IN SCHOOL?                76
+
+BEHIND THE BARS                                    84
+
+HARVARD SQUARE                                     86
+
+THE END                                            96
+
+
+
+
+THE SYLVAN CABIN
+
+A CENTENARY ODE ON THE BIRTH OF LINCOLN
+
+
+I
+
+    O, fairest Dame of sylvan glades,
+We come to pay thee homage due,
+Embrace thee softly and to kiss
+Thy lovely, long-forsaken cheeks;
+To smooth thy flowing silver locks
+And bind about thy snowy neck
+A necklace golden studded full
+With rarest gems and shining pearls.
+    Our eyes, though sometimes dimmed with tears,
+In purer lustre sparkle forth
+Whene'er they fall agaze on thee!
+Our ears attuned to thy sweet lay
+Catch every flowing, cadent note
+And bear it ever safe within
+Our rapturous hearts, which gladly leap
+Whene'er thy name is called!
+Deep in our souls the quenchless fire
+Of love full brightly burns upon
+The sacred altar, set apart
+For sprite commune and sacrifice;
+Whose high-priest tends with loving care,
+And unto thee sweet incense burns.
+Our tongues most gladly sing thy praise,
+And from it ne'er shall cease--till all
+The land be free!
+
+
+II
+
+    A century lonely hast thou stood
+Here all forsaken and forgot!
+All men failed thee to visit save
+Some idle lover of sylvan haunts
+Who trod, perchance, this hallowed spot,
+And cast a pensive eye upon
+This lovely glade, thy sole abode
+(Full lost in these continuous woods),
+And brooding o'er thy lowly lot,
+Oft thus did muse: "This cabin lone
+Here stands to tell the tale of him,
+Back-woodsman brave, who having scaled
+The mystic mountains ne'er returned
+To them, though loved yet left behind;
+But here he chose his last abode,
+These gloomy woods whose blackness stands
+Up hard against horizon's slope;
+Grim, spectral, dreaded, and untrod
+Save monsters great of savage mien,
+That prowled, or crouched upon their prey;
+Sent forth a vicious roar that fairly shook
+Old Sylvia far and near, from vale
+Through crag to mountain peak!
+    Upon this spot the redskin oft
+Has danced his 'War dance' and his 'Feast,'
+His face a reddish hue aglow--
+Long locks with eaglets' plumes bedecked;
+His bow and never-failing dart,
+And scalper dangling at his side.
+More brightly gleamed his wary eye,
+As braves the war-whoop loudly yelled--
+A sight more like the fiery fiends
+From Pluto's ghastly shore returned
+Than human blood and bone!
+    They all have gone and left no tale
+But woe which hurled them ever hence
+To that shore whence no bark returns.
+Old Cabin, thou, a land-mark art,
+Of human progress' steady march!"
+
+
+III
+
+                            Of thee
+Thus has time passed with naught more said;
+For man in his pedantic art
+Soars far in feeble flights of song
+From Nature's heart, and thus he fails
+With Nature's God to hold commune!
+    The bard has slept, dreamed many a dream,
+But failed to dream one dream of thee.
+High hangs his lyre on willow reed,
+And sitting 'neath yon shady nook,
+He fails to catch one note of thy
+Immortal song that fills the air.
+Awake, O bard, from sleep so deep!
+Attune thy lyre; let Nature breathe
+In her immortal breath of song;
+Then wilt thou sing a song most sweet,
+The song by Nature's vesper choir,
+Through all the countless ages sung,--
+And still is singing day by day.
+Then all the world will join thy sweet
+Refrain in praise and ardent love
+Of this fair forest Dame!
+
+
+IV
+
+    The nations all their day shall have;
+Yet each in turn shall rise and fall,
+As falls the dark brown autumn leaf;
+Or as those dread sky-kissing tides,
+Which toss frail barks high upon
+Some ghastly, frowning storm-beat shore,--
+Though slowly, yet quite surely ebb away.
+   --Aye! Egypt fair once spread the Nile,
+And green-bay-tree-like proudly flourished;
+Her snowy sails sea-ports bedecked,
+And deeply ploughed the rolling main,
+Or clave the placid lakes, as does
+The gentle swan, when some soft breeze
+The bulrush stirs, flings its perfume
+Upon the rippling silver waves!
+    Fair cities dotted here and there
+Her vast domain. Her royal line
+Of Pharaohs held the sceptre gold
+Upon her all-emblazoned throne.
+    Now Egypt fair is wreck and ruin.
+For, as fled on the flight of years,
+The unrelenting Hand of time
+Wiped her sweet visage off the globe!
+Naught save the grim, grey pyramid,
+Sublimest work of man, yet stands
+To greet the rosy morn, with proud
+Uplifted head, expanded chest--
+A death defiant scoff at time!
+Yet hoary Time in his wild rage
+Of wreck and ruin, like Jove shall hurl
+His fiery bolts upon the head
+Of pyramid with ire, and crush
+And raze it to its base with scorn!
+
+
+V
+
+    Next Greece, the fairest nymph that trod
+This belted globe upon, once shone
+As shines the Morning Orb, long ere
+The Dawn the rosy East has kissed;
+High reared her sacred temples in
+Olympia's shady groves, and built
+There sacred altars to her gods.
+    Old Zeus and Phoebus oft here sat
+In council with their fellow gods.
+And Homer, fiery bard, was first
+To smite the chords of nature's lyre;
+Sweet sang he till the earth was filled
+With rarest strains of rapturous song!
+    Then art and letters blew and blushed,
+The fairest flowers of ages past,
+Whose essence, spilled upon the breeze,
+Is wafted still forever on
+The twin deft with the flight of years;
+And man in calm delight inhales
+The fragrance of pure classic lore!
+    But Greece is gone! Her statues fair
+Are mingled with the dust; each god
+Has flown some fairer clime to rule,
+Or, subdued, walks the dark abyss.
+
+
+VI
+
+    Then Rome, the gaudy Southern Queen,
+On seven rugged, rock-ribbed hills
+Securely built her throne. The world
+Then saw a mighty power rise
+In splendor great, as does the sun
+On some young, swift-winged morn of June.
+A brighter dawning seemed to break;
+Another life was lived,--for through
+The Roman vein there coursed a blood,
+A fiery burning blood of ire,
+That rose and conquered all the world.
+    Great Cæsar led her legions forth
+From victory on to victory,
+And hung her royal pennons high
+In tower, palace-hall, and throne;
+The Roman sceptre swayed the globe.
+Soft music soothed her savage ear,
+Fine arts and sculptor were her toys,
+And glory was her "starry crown."
+But now we read the "Fall of Rome,"
+The doleful lay that tells the tale
+Of all who thus have passed away.
+
+
+VII
+
+    To thee, fair Dame, we thus relate
+The things which were but are no more;
+That thou mightest know the worldly way,
+And knowing, have no timid fear
+To ever stir thy peaceful breast.
+No fate like theirs awaits for thee;
+For Fortune's maid shall tend with care
+Thy every nod and beck--yes, place
+Upon thy queenly brow a crown,
+The "starry crown" by Freedom worn!
+    'Tis true no flint rock ribs thy base,
+No stone thy corner marks; for that
+What carest thou? For boasted pride?
+Thy frame is of the sturdy oak,
+Inlaid with ribs of stately pine;
+The Prince and Princess twain are they
+Of all Columbia's giant woods.
+The sylvan songsters sing thy praise
+From dawn till set of sun, and then
+The nightingale, the queen of song,
+In praise of thee poureth forth her lay
+Till every mellow silver note,
+Far floating in the silent trees,
+Is taken by an elfish choir,
+And chanted softly to the moon.
+    The eagle her wee eaglets tells
+Of thee, that they may freedom love;
+Then soaring full beyond the clouds,
+She looks with vaunted pride on thee.
+So must thy spirit fill the hearts
+Of all Columbia's youth, as once
+It filled old "Honest Abe," thy son,
+Thy pride--the first-born of thy love.
+For when each lowly lad well knows
+That ever upwards he may soar,
+Beyond vain tyrants' galling sway
+To fairer climes where Freedom reigns:
+Then will the shadow of thy wing
+For aye to them a shelter be!
+
+
+
+
+LIFE IN A DREAM
+
+
+There is nothing so sweet as our life in our dreams,
+  When we soar far on fancy's swift wing;
+For a thing in our dreams is all that it seems,
+  And the songs are so sweet that we sing.
+Ah! the sun shines the brightest, and stars twinkle lightest
+  At the moon in her silvery beams!
+
+There is nothing so gay as the life in our dreams,
+  With its joy and its laughter and mirth;
+For the pleasure that teems is far greater, one deems,
+  Than any he finds in the earth.
+There are homes are our natal, and nothing is fatal
+  In the beautiful land of our dreams!
+
+There is nothing so bright as the life in our dreams,
+  Far away from earth's trickery chance;
+There the music's wild screams and the wine in its streams
+  Are both lost in the song and the dance.
+Oh! our joy is the sweetest and life is completest,
+  Ah! the life in our beautiful dreams!
+
+There is nothing serene as the life in our dreams,
+  When the dove to his mate softly cooes
+In the groves by the streams and the moon's silver beams,
+  Where the swain oft his maid gently wooes.
+There the swains are the rarest and maids are the fairest,
+  And their love is as true as it seems!
+
+
+
+
+THE MORNING STAR
+
+TO A. B. B.
+
+
+Thou art, fair maid, the Morning Star,
+  The guide of dawning day,
+And sendest diamond sparkles far
+  To wake the flowers of May.
+
+Thou makest earth to bloom anew,
+  A boon thou'rt wont to give,
+And spillest out the morning dew,
+  That all may blush and live.
+
+Thou guardest with thy hand of might,
+  And never showeth frown;
+Earth lullest sleep when cometh night,
+  And wak'st her with the dawn.
+
+Fair maiden, God hast given thee
+  All power near and far,--
+The rosy dawning's light to be,
+  The brightest Morning Star.
+
+
+
+
+TO ESTELLE
+
+
+Coy, sweet maid, I love so well,
+    Fair Estelle.
+How much I love thee tongue can't tell,
+    Sweet Estelle.
+But I love thee--love thee true--
+More than violets love the dew,
+More than roses love the sun--
+Do I love thee, dearest one,
+    Dear Estelle!
+
+Ah! my heart love's passions swell
+    For Estelle!
+How I love my actions tell
+    Thee, Estelle:
+That I love thy smiling face,
+And thy captivating grace--
+Love thy dreamy 'witching eyes
+More than planets love the skies,
+    Wee Estelle!
+
+Now I smite my lyre to swell
+    For Estelle;
+Music's most entrancing spell
+    O'er Estelle.
+With my fingers on my keys,
+Like the balmy morning breeze
+Stealing softly through the grain,
+Will I gently wake a strain
+    For Estelle!
+
+How I love my little belle,
+    My Estelle!
+Deepest in my sacred dell
+    Is Estelle!
+I esteem my maiden love
+More than angels high above,
+More than demons in the sea;
+Love is light and life to me,
+    And Estelle!
+
+
+
+
+A SONG OF THANKS
+
+
+For the sun that shone at the dawn of spring,
+For the flowers which bloom and the birds that sing,
+For the verdant robe of the gray old earth,
+For her coffers filled with their countless worth,
+For the flocks which feed on a thousand hills,
+For the rippling streams which turn the mills,
+For the lowing herds in the lovely vale,
+For the songs of gladness on the gale,--
+From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,--
+Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!
+
+For the farmer reaping his whitened fields,
+For the bounty which the rich soil yields,
+For the cooling dews and refreshing rains,
+For the sun which ripens the golden grains,
+For the beaded wheat and the fattened swine,
+For the stallèd ox and the fruitful vine,
+For the tubers large and cotton white,
+For the kid and the lambkin frisk and blithe,
+For the swan which floats near the river-banks,--
+Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!
+
+For the pumpkin sweet and the yellow yam,
+For the corn and beans and the sugared ham,
+For the plum and the peach and the apple red,
+For the dear old press where the wine is tread,
+For the cock which crows at the breaking dawn,
+And the proud old "turk" of the farmer's barn,
+For the fish which swim in the babbling brooks,
+For the game which hide in the shady nooks,--
+From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,--
+Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!
+
+For the sturdy oaks and the stately pines,
+For the lead and the coal from the deep, dark mines,
+For the silver ores of a thousand fold,
+For the diamond bright and the yellow gold,
+For the river boat and the flying train,
+For the fleecy sail of the rolling main,
+For the velvet sponge and the glossy pearl,
+For the flag of peace which we now unfurl,--
+From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,--
+Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!
+
+For the lowly cot and the mansion fair,
+For the peace and plenty together share,
+For the Hand which guides us from above,
+For Thy tender mercies, abiding love,
+For the blessed home with its children gay,
+For returnings of Thanksgiving Day,
+For the bearing toils and the sharing cares,
+We lift up our hearts in our songs and our prayers,--
+From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,--
+Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!
+
+
+
+
+NOT YET A POET
+
+
+Aye! many a rhyme my pen has flown,
+  In oblivion, all unknown;
+Still many more, perchance, I say,
+  Float on in one unbroken lay--
+But ask me naught of where or when,
+  Long as they ring in hearts of men!
+Dear friend, I say these words to you,
+  Which through the ages will be true:
+Though I have power to combine
+  These subtle rhymes of each sweet line--
+Yet, I shall never live to see,
+  The title "POET" given me!
+
+
+
+
+A BOUQUET
+
+
+A blossom pink, a blossom blue,
+  Make all there is in love so true.
+'Tis fit, methinks, my heart to move,
+  To give it thee, sweet girl, I love!
+Now, take it, dear, this morn and wear
+  A wreath of beauty in thy hair;
+Think on it, when from bliss we part--
+  The emblem of my wooing heart!
+
+
+
+
+AN ODE TO THE SOLDIERS' AND SAILORS' MONUMENT
+
+
+Thou most majestic Queen of sculptural art,
+  What learnèd architect designed thy throne?
+Who traced thy stately form in head and heart,
+  And sent the sculptor forth to carve the stone?
+O speak, fair Queen, for thou art not alone;
+  Ten thousand unseen voices join refrain
+That softly floats in one melodious tone,
+  As sweet as any ancient harper's strain
+  In odes to Indiana's silent victors slain.
+
+Thy court well marks the conquest of the West,
+  A citadel sprung out the forest wild,
+A mecca where the pilgrims quietly rest:
+  Each dame's content--content each sportive child;
+The fiery redmen nevermore revile,
+  Nor haunt the footprints of thy daring sons,
+Whose noble spheres are widening all the while,
+  Like as some brilliant star its orbit runs
+  And sheds on earth its light down from a thousand suns.
+
+Thy throne emblazoned with the rarest jewels,
+  Each wall adorned with battered coats of mail,
+Choice relics of some bloody fields or duels,
+  A legend or some untold battle tale.
+I see the scouts go forth upon the trail,
+  And soldiers charging over battlements--
+The weeping mother sends to God her wail;
+  While passion's rage the mortal heart laments,
+  The dove of peace is caged in direst banishments.
+
+But see yon arms, full flushing victory
+  Brings hope, and joy is ringing everywhere
+Beneath the "starry banner of the free,"
+  That shields her children from the tyrant's snare.
+The peasant turns him to his lowly fare,
+  The rich pursues wild phantoms at his ease,
+The rustic plies his long-forsaken share,
+  And lo! the dove is cooing, "Peace, sweet peace;"
+  For Mars has snatched his bolts from out the rosy East.
+
+And when the last familiar scene has gone,
+  And brightest dawn has kissed the sable night,
+Then thou shalt smile on faces yet unborn,
+  And be to them a gleaming beacon light;
+For Might shall fall and on his throne sit Right,
+  When bloody wars and petty strifes have ceased;
+Then thou shalt don thy spotless robe of white,
+  And say to man as hostess of the feast:
+  "My brother, sheath thy sword; the end of life is peace."
+
+
+
+
+TO A FADED FLOWER
+
+    To a violet that faded on my coat at Natchez, Miss. March
+    8th, 1902.
+
+
+Alas! thou lovely floweret wee,
+  Fate blew a blighting breath
+Upon the delicate form of thee,--
+  Thou'st met untimely death!
+Thou blowest, blushest nevermore,
+  To drink the dews of night;
+Thy sweet though short-lived life is o'er,
+  Thou seest no more the light.
+
+'Twas vain! aye, vain! the selfish strife
+  That drooped thy purple crest;
+Some swain or maiden took thy life,
+  To deck a love-lorn breast.
+Ah, floweret wee, the God who made
+  All in the earth and sky,
+Decreed that thou should blow and fade,--
+  All else should live and die!
+
+Now, he who wails the floweret's fate,
+  And all the rest of man,
+Must meet that fate, aye soon or late,
+  And scale their measured span.
+We are but flowers that blush and blow,
+  As flight of years rolls on,
+With time and tide's cold ebb and flow--
+  'Tis said--"He's dead and gone!"
+
+For as the maid clips off the stems
+  Where once the flowers have been,
+So angels pluck earth's rarest gems,
+  Immortal souls of men!
+The flower fadeth into air,
+  From whence its life is given--
+But man's soul shining rich and rare
+  Ascendeth into heaven.
+
+
+
+
+DAINTY DORA
+
+TO D. M. M.
+
+
+Greeks once sang a lovely song
+  To their maiden Cora;
+But my lay floats soft along
+  To my Dainty Dora.
+
+Frenchmen sing of Anne Belle,
+  Romans sang of Flora;
+But I sing my song to tell
+  Of my Dainty Dora.
+
+Scotchmen sing their songs to move
+  Mary or Debora;
+But I sing my song of love--
+  Love for Dainty Dora.
+
+Poets now a song may give
+  Psyche or Lenora;
+But I'll sing long as I live
+  Just for Dainty Dora!
+
+
+
+
+THE VIOLIN
+
+
+Thrice hail the still unconquered King of Song!
+  For all adore and love the Master Art
+  That reareth his throne in temple of the heart;
+And smiteth chords of passion full and strong
+Till music sweet allures the sorrowing throng!
+  Then by the gentle curving of his bow
+  Maketh every mellow note in cadence flow,
+To recompense the world of all its wrong.
+Although the earth is full of cares and throes
+  That tempt the crimson stream of life to cloy,
+Thou mak'st glad hearts and trip'st "fantastic toes,"
+  And fillest weary souls with mirth and joy--
+The soul-entrancing cadence of thy strings
+Proclaims thee Song's unconquered "King of kings"!
+
+
+
+
+WOMAN
+
+
+I call thee angel of this earth,
+  For angel true thou art
+In noble deeds and sterling worth
+  And sympathetic heart.
+I, therefore, seek none from afar
+  For what they might have been,
+But sing the praise of those which are
+  That dwell on earth with men.
+
+For when man was a tottling wee,
+  Snug nestling on thy breast,
+Or sporting gay upon thy knee,
+  Oh, thou who lovest him best;
+An overflowing stream of love,
+  Sprung at his very birth,
+And made thee gentle as a dove,
+  Fair angel of this earth.
+
+Thou cheerest ever blithesome youth
+  With songs and fervent prayers,
+And fillest heart with love and truth
+  A store for future cares.
+Thou lead'st him safely in his prime,
+  True guide of every stage,
+And then at last, as fades the time,
+  Thou comfortest his age.
+
+Like as the sunshine after rain,
+  Far chasing 'way the mist,
+Thou soothest human grief and pain,
+  Fleet messenger of bliss.
+In battles where the sword and shield
+  Full lay the mighty low,
+Thou hov'rest ever o'er the field,
+  To ease life's ebb and flow!
+
+Thou standest, ever standest near,
+  Before man's waning eyes,
+An angel true to him more dear
+  Than all beyond the skies!
+No fabled sprites of chants and creeds,
+  Nor myths of bygone years,
+For thou suppliest all his needs
+  And wip'st his briny tears.
+
+So, if he quail in desert waste
+  Or toss life's stormy sea,
+He turns his tear-stained eye in haste
+  For one fond glimpse of thee.
+He longs to hide beneath thy wing,
+  And nestle on thy breast;
+He lists to hear thee softly sing
+  Him into peaceful rest!
+
+Oh, sing aloud Mt. Zion's songs,
+  To cheer each languid heart;
+For now some feeble spirit longs
+  Thy blessings to impart.
+And thus thou keepest the Master's will,
+  And showest all thy worth,
+Through loving kindness thou art still
+  The angel of this earth!
+
+
+
+
+THE BACHELOR'S SONG
+
+
+While I keep my lonely hall,
+You are welcome one and all,
+As I sing my little song;
+Stay, I'll cheer you all day long--
+And sow my bachelor-buttons,
+And sow my bachelor-buttons.
+
+While this world is wild with glee,
+Chime I now my song to thee;
+In my bosom lurks no care,
+I can loiter everywhere--
+And sow my bachelor-buttons,
+And sow my bachelor-buttons.
+
+Oh dear, what a happy life
+For the man who has no wife,
+To bind with sore distresses,
+And silk and satin dresses--
+While he sows his bachelor-buttons,
+While he sows his bachelor-buttons.
+
+His heart is ever merry,
+His way is bright and cheery;
+No peevish baby crying,
+No jealous wife a-sighing--
+While he sows his bachelor-buttons,
+While he sows his bachelor-buttons.
+
+Ah! praise the God who hath given
+A life so much like heaven;
+Quit it? Oh no, I'll never,
+But live happy forever--
+And sow my bachelor-buttons,
+And sow my bachelor-buttons.
+
+
+
+
+PUT NOTHING IN ANOTHER'S WAY
+
+
+Put nothing in another's way,
+  Who's plodding on through life,
+But fill each heart with joy each day,
+  With peace instead of strife.
+So then let not a missent word,
+  Or thought, or act, or deed
+Be by our weaker brother heard
+  To cause his heart to bleed.
+
+Put nothing in another's way,
+  It clear and ample leave;
+For words and actions day by day
+  Life's great example weave.
+'Tis then not meet that we should think
+  That we are solely free
+In manners, dress, in food, or drink,
+  Or fulsome revelry.
+
+Put nothing in another's way,
+  Just learn the Christian part
+To let a holy, sunny ray
+  Shine in thy brother's heart.
+Help him to bear his load of care,
+  His soul get edified--
+'Twas only for the soul's welfare
+  That Jesus bled and died.
+
+Put nothing in another's way,
+  Ye who are sent to teach;
+No dark cloud cast across the day,
+  Ye who the gospel preach.
+Ye twain must set the truth aright
+  With joy and peace and love;
+For in your souls shines forth the light
+  From Jesus Christ above.
+
+Put nothing in another's way,
+  Belovèd Christian friends;
+On through your toils, and cares, still pray,
+  Till life's fleet journey ends.
+When at the resurrection dawn
+  Eternal life is given,
+We'll get our harp, our robe, our crown,
+  The star-lit crown of heaven.
+
+
+
+
+FLOATING WITH THE GALE
+
+TO MY LOST BROTHER
+
+
+Ships the angry sea is lashing;
+  But I launch my little bark,
+Though the thunder peals are crashing,
+  And the sea is pitchy dark!
+See by lightning's vivid flashing
+  How to shift my tattered sail--
+Far across the billows dashing,
+  I am floating with the gale.
+
+CHORUS
+
+Floating, floating, floating ever
+  On the stormy deep blue sea,
+Far from father and dear mother
+  And, true love, away from thee!
+Go, ye zephyrs, sweetly laden,
+  Cheer my loved ones in their wail;
+Tell my wee sweet bright-eyed maiden
+  I am floating with the gale!
+
+When the siren maids are waking,
+  And are singing wild sea songs,
+Dear, they start my heart to aching,
+  For its love to thee belongs.
+Now my love-lorn soul is shaking
+  With a spell of bitter wail,
+And my heart is sadly breaking,
+  For I'm floating with the gale!
+
+CHORUS
+
+Now my hopes are fading ever,
+  Gloom is chasing 'way the bliss;
+Dear, I know that I can never
+  Come thy ruby lips to kiss!
+But my heart will cling forever
+  To that love I oft did hail,
+For those ties I can not sever,
+  Though I'm floating with the gale!
+
+CHORUS
+
+Dear, my heart is ever longing,
+  Longs surfmen my bark to save;
+Through my brain these thoughts are thronging,
+  Of a grave beneath the wave;
+Of loved ones my heart is wronging,
+  And the belly of the whale;
+'Round my soul their ghosts are thronging,
+  As I'm floating with the gale!
+
+CHORUS
+
+Dear, I fain would be returning
+  To the cove just where thou art,
+While my languid breast is burning
+  Light and love full out my heart!
+But cruel Fate my hopes is spurning,
+  And winds blow against my sail;
+While out Death my life is burning,
+  I'm still floating with the gale!
+
+CHORUS
+
+
+
+
+LULA JOHNSON'S SONG
+
+    Written in Quinn Chapel, A. M. E. Church, Ninth and Walnut
+    Streets, Louisville, Ky., Wednesday evening, October 16th,
+    1907, while Miss Lula E. Johnson was singing "Ave Maria."
+
+
+I have heard the mock-bird singing when the orchards were in bloom,
+And the sweetness of his music made the peacock don his plume;
+Ay! I've heard cock-robin-redbreast chirping on a sunny day,
+And the skylark soaring skywards, merrily sing his festal lay;
+And the brown thrush and the bluebird thrill their little treble notes;
+All the woodland songsters pouring songs of gladness from their throats--
+But not one has touched so deeply, and not one has last so long
+As the ever ringing cadence of sweet Lula Johnson's song!
+
+When the breeze has ceased to whisper and the night is soft and still,
+Save the awe-provoking shrilling of the ghastly whippoorwill,
+As the moonbeams pour down brightly on the woodland, hill and dale,
+I oft listen at my window to the queenly nightingale;
+But no song of merry woodland, neither hill, nor dale, nor dell,
+Has ever smote my bosom, nor has made my spirit swell,
+Like the soul-inspiring music that so softly glides along
+Oh! so softly and so gently in sweet Lula Johnson's song!
+
+Oh! my soul has caught the music, as it softly floats along--
+Ah! the soul-entrancing music of sweet Lula Johnson's song!
+If my feet shall ever falter, it shall cheer me on my way;
+Ay, sustain and give me comfort,--make my feeble spirit gay.
+All we need to have, my brothers, in our war of peace 'gainst strife,
+Is the cadence of sweet music sprinkled in to sweeten life;
+It will sweeten all our bitters, which now seem so very long,
+If we have it soft and gentle, as sweet Lula Johnson's song.
+
+In the lonely hours of midnight, when fair Luna 'gins to pale,
+I have heard her songs a-ringing, floating softly on the gale.
+And I hope when dawns the morning, when I draw my fleeting breath,
+When my friends are gathered 'round me, and my eyes are closed in death--
+Ere you throw the sods upon me, on my never-heaving breast,
+While my body's lying silent and my soul is seeking rest--
+Then I'll wing straight home to glory, for the journey won't be long,
+On the spirit-wafting music of sweet Lula Johnson's song!
+
+
+
+
+A TRIBUTE TO DUNBAR
+
+
+The sweetest singer once thou wast, but art no more;
+  An elf thou wast of what thou now shalt be,
+Where thou art in realms of that celestial shore;
+  There thou shalt sing through all eternity.
+    We, peerless bard, bewail thy loss
+      And shed heart-broken tears,
+    Though meekly thou hast borne thy cross
+      And winged the flight of years!
+
+Thrice blessed singer, wrapped in heavenly bliss,
+  Of earth's poor souls thy fortune who can tell?
+Perchance thy splendid lot be solely this:
+  To change thy lute with the angel Israfel!
+    If so, then smite thy golden strings
+      With fingers nimble, strong,
+    Till all along fair heaven rings
+      With cadence of thy song!
+
+Thee tyrant earth once held, imprisoned soul,
+  That suffered tortures of relentless strife,
+Fair heaven now holds within her sheltered fold,
+  And gives thee robe and harp--eternal life!
+    Grant him, O God, unfaltering breath
+      To sing from heaven afar
+    A song to cheer our souls in death--
+      The peerless Paul Dunbar!
+
+
+
+
+WERE I A BIRD
+
+
+Were I a bird free born to fly
+  Aloof on two wee, downy wings,
+My canopy would be the sky
+  When rosy morn its dawning springs.
+
+Were I a bird I'd sweetly sing
+  Earth's vesper song in tree-tops high,
+And chant the carol of the Spring
+  To every weary passer by.
+
+Were I a bird, the sweetest voice
+  That human ear has ever heard,--
+The mocking-bird would be my choice,
+  For he's the sweetest singing bird!
+
+Were I a bird my life would be
+  In keeping with the Will divine--
+I'd sing His carols full and free
+  In spreading oak and cony pine!
+
+Were I a bird through air I'd roam,
+  Just flitting on the morning breeze,
+In search of summer's sunny dome,
+  To live contentedly at ease.
+
+Were I a bird I'd sing a tune
+  For farmers seeking shady rest
+Beneath the spreading oak in June,
+  In swinging boughs that rock my nest.
+
+Were I a bird I'd scale the cliff
+  When dawns the bleak December day,
+Far from the ice and snow I'd shift
+  Until the fairest day in May!
+
+Were I a bird, a mocking-bird,
+  The King of birdie's singing sons,
+My music would fore'er be heard
+  As I sweet sang to cheerless ones.
+
+Were I a bird I'd seek my rest
+  When jocund Day blows out his light;
+In boughs that hover o'er my nest
+  I'd sweetly sing, "Good Night, Good Night!"
+
+
+
+
+AN ODE TO ETHIOPIA
+
+TO THE ASPIRING NEGRO YOUTH
+
+    After years of patient study and historical research, I have
+    made the following deductions of parts played by the
+    Ethiopian in the annals of history, under the caption, "An
+    Ode to Ethiopia." It is true that questions will rise
+    regarding the racial identity of some of my characters, in
+    view of historical statements which place them with the
+    Caucasian race; yet I firmly believe, were impartial history
+    written, my claims would be justified. However, Time, the
+    great Arbiter, will finally decide the equity of my claims.
+
+
+I
+
+Thou Sovran Queen of Afric's sunny strands,
+  I smite my lyre to sing thy praise unsung;
+In strains far sweeter than seraphic bands,
+  A lay deep in my bosom's core is sprung.
+Fair Queen, although my years as yet be young,
+  Deep thoughts and musings of thy history old,
+Where odes and fiery epics long have hung,
+  Live centuries in my immortal soul
+  And strike sweet Lydian measures on my harp of gold.
+
+
+II
+
+Therefore, my song floats softly up to thee,
+  Full soft as those sweet zephyrs of the spring,
+Of which it was and is and still must be,
+  The sweetest of aeolian strains that ring!
+I breathe it on the soft sea winds which bring
+  Their cooling treasures from the rolling deep;
+They 'fresh my brow and make my sad heart sing
+  And ever lure my drowsy eyes from sleep,
+  And bid thy vesper chorist strictest vigil keep.
+
+
+III
+
+Of all the nations that have trod the earth,
+  In civil states or in the forest wild,
+Thou wast the first of real enlightened birth,
+  Born in fair Egypt on the spreading Nile.
+In valleys fertile, sunny climates mild,
+  Thou sternly taught the "chosen" Hebrew race--
+Madonna sheltered with her Holy Child,
+  Who came to plead man's all unworthy case,
+  And drained His sacred heart, earth's vilest sin efface!
+
+
+IV
+
+Long ere the Grecian oped his classic lids
+  Or mould' true beauty with artistic hands,
+Thou reared upon thy plains the lofty pyramids,
+  With sphinx and obelisks 'decked thy burning sands.
+Aye! Queen, thou then wast hailed in all the lands
+  Long ere vain Babel 'fused the human tongue
+In dialects rude of wild barbaric bands;
+  Thou soared to Wisdom's realm, her sceptre wrung,
+  And reigned the wisest queen the nations all among.
+
+
+V
+
+Thou first taught man the mystic sciences probe,
+  To scan earth's apex, median, and base;
+Thou, too, inscribed the belt around the globe,
+  And made deep tracings on its hoary face.
+Well fixed each angle, arc, and line in place,
+  Then soared thou far into the "milky way,"
+Far in the bright, celestial span of space,
+  Where orbs and planets all their homage pay
+  Unto the sun, the ever reigning "King of Day."
+
+
+VI
+
+Once in great splendor did thy Pharaohs rule
+  In Egypt, with her glory flown of yore;
+They laid foundations of the mundane school,
+  And taught the art of governmental lore.
+And then from thy great military store
+  Thou sent the gallant Hannibal to war,
+Taught Romans tactics never known before,
+  And filled their hearts with ever-cowering awe,
+  And bowed their haughty heads to thy majestic law.
+
+
+VII
+
+But in this age is writ another story;
+  Then pen of arrogant, vain Caucasian sage,
+Has thee full robbed of thy immortal glory,
+  And smeared thy name on History's sacred page!
+Forsooth, the Book, once closed for many an age,
+  Is opened by thy sons--though fraught with pain--
+The curtain's drawn; they rise upon the stage;
+  And their valiant deeds and blood shall wash the stain
+  As clean as April showers wash the dusty plain.
+
+
+VIII
+
+I sing now of thy heroes of today,
+  Thy sturdy warriors and thy gallant knights,
+Who charge into the thickest of the fray,
+  And die for country and their free-born rights,--
+For orphans, widows and their little mites.
+  Thus, Attucks brave, without a moment's pause,
+(While reeled the Nation in her darkest plights)
+  Full bared his breast in Freedom's holy cause,
+  First fell and tore the code of Tyranny's cruel laws!
+
+
+IX
+
+Now, if my lay is yet not sweet enough,
+  I'll bid a gentler, subtler strain awake,
+And sing of fights with Jackson on the Gulf
+  And Perry's hard-fought battle on the Lake!
+Of fights in fen and moor and hoary brake,
+  On Lookout Mountain and the rolling main--
+Through searing blasts of bleak December's flake,
+  And drenching torrents of fair April's rain:
+  Their valiant deeds are springing ever up amain!
+
+
+X
+
+They fought, the Union from State's Rights to free;
+  At Vicksburg, Wagner, and Port Hudson lent
+Their aid; their deeds at Pillow and Olustee
+  Rose surge on surge like ocean billows rent!
+The praises of the gallant Ninth and Tenth
+  Will ever rise and soft float to the sky--
+They bagged Old Bull in Rocky Mountain tent;
+  Then stormed the Spanish block-housed Hills on high,
+  And bade the tyrant Spaniard's heaving heart to die!
+
+
+XI
+
+"High time, my Haitian islet must be free!"
+  Great Touissant thus his declaration tacks;
+Then drives proud Frenchmen into the yawning sea--
+  "The bravest whites, by bravest of the blacks."
+Brave Maceo pursues the Spanish packs,
+  And Aguinaldo, in the mountain wilds,
+Pours shot and shell into the tyrants' backs--
+  They save her throne and Freedom on them smiles,
+  True heroes, and the Fathers of their sunlit Isles!
+
+
+XII
+
+Thy sons have triumphed in the Halls of State;
+  Hamilton and Douglas were the first to gain,
+With lightning eye and tongue of thunder great,
+  The civic lead of thy illustrious train.
+Next Bruce and Revels, senatorial twain;
+  John Lynch and Small emit a brilliant light,
+And Langston, Pinchback, Cheatham all remain;
+  With Dancy, Vernon, Anderson, and White,
+  Liang Williams, Lyons, Terrell stand for "Civic Right."
+
+
+XIII
+
+In science's realm with Banneker we start,
+  Then read on Medicae's emblazoned wall:
+"Dan Williams here first stitched the human heart!"
+  Close by the names of Curtis, Boyd, and Hall.
+But others list'd and heard Invention's call,
+  In all its sweetness of the days of yore,
+And Woods, the greatest foreman of them all,
+  Shouts on his voyage with Black and Baltimore:
+  "We come! we come! good Dame, thy region to explore!"
+
+
+XIV
+
+"I, too," said 'Monia Lewis, "can make a man!"
+  Then mould' his form with most artistic ease--
+But all aeolian strains Blind Tom could scan,
+  And play as softly as the South Sea breeze
+Upon his major and his minor keys!
+  Good Douglas gently wakes the violin's song,
+And White leads home the zephyrs from the seas;
+  While Coleridge-Taylor with an art more strong
+  Full finds the key-note of Dame Nature's vesper song!
+
+
+XV
+
+If shady nooks in Poesy's realm they choose,
+  Or barks to drift the smooth, prosaic stream,
+There Phillis held communion with the Muse,
+  And Chesnutt woke the "Colonel" from his dream!
+Max Barber, Thompson, Knox and Fortune beam;
+  Great Braithwaite scales the classic mountain heights,
+And Cooper, like a beacon light, will gleam;
+  While Dunbar, sun-like, sheds his holy lights
+  In dazzling splendor on his solar satellites!
+
+
+XVI
+
+These brilliant names shall never fade away:
+  Emblazoned in the sacred Hall of Fame,
+They shall remain till dawns that direful Day,
+  The valid seal beneath thy sacred name.
+Deft Tanner, artist, ever blazing flame,
+  With Pickens, Bruce and Locke of classic dell,
+Old Truth and Harper, Yates and Ruffin came,
+  And Walker, Terrell, Williams, known so well
+  Long ere Marie had taught the hoary world to spell!
+
+
+XVII
+
+The learned Scarborough writes the classic Greek;
+  Dean Miller thinks in calculations cold;
+While Cogman writes the annals of the meek,
+  DuBois reveals the secrets of the Soul!
+But all shall read in letters gilded gold:
+  "Who teaches head and heart and hands, has won
+The priceless boon, the guerdon of the goal,
+  The portion due thy most illustrious son,
+  Tuskegee's seer and sage, the noble Washington!"
+
+
+XVIII
+
+Thy songs inspire and cheer the human soul,
+  Still plodding forth in search of Beulah's vale;
+Lead wondering lambs into the Master's fold,
+  When Flora Burgeon's notes far float the gale!
+Though Patti Brown we loud applaud and hail,
+  And Hackley's voice is heard in every land,--
+Black Patti is the queenly nightingale
+  That leads the chorus, as they singing stand
+  As Miriam stood, to sing thee to the "Promised Land!"
+
+
+XIX
+
+I see the Prophet's mandate to the land,
+  In golden letters glit'ring in the sky:
+"Fair Ethiopia shall stretch forth her hand,
+  Her sons shall sway the earth long ere they die!"
+As swift as lightnings with the storm-clouds fly,
+  To light the path celestial feet have trod:
+So be thy soaring to the realms on high,
+  When mortal feet no more shall tread this sod,
+  And thy holy spirit wings its homeward flight to God!
+
+
+
+
+TO J. S. B.
+
+    On seeing her December 25th, 1904, after two years' travel.
+
+
+Take, fair maid, these simple lines
+  From my pen;
+Think of strollings 'neath the pines,
+  Which have been--
+Long and lonesome were the days
+  We were apart,
+But may Love, now, have her sways,--
+  Bind heart to heart!
+O'er main to isle and back to land
+  Have I been;
+Beheld on either hand
+  A maiden queen:
+But none with captivating charms
+  Like thine;
+None to nestle in her arms,
+  Love of mine!
+Charms unto thee God gave
+  To banish strife;
+To glorify and save
+  One sweet life--
+Take this, dear, before we part
+  From this bliss;
+'Tis but love flowing from my heart,
+  Thine to kiss!
+
+
+
+
+THE MAYOR'S RING
+
+
+I hold a token in my hand,
+  A very tiny thing;
+And yet within its golden band
+  A thousand memories cling.
+
+Aye! thrice ten thousand memories cling
+  Of signal victories won,
+Enshrined within this little ring,
+  Reward of duty done.
+
+I ever shall this token prize,
+  And wear it with true grace--
+The tie that binds the kindred ties
+  Of friendship race to race.
+
+And when I soar full through the skies,
+  Yet ever will I cling
+Within the gates of Paradise
+  This sacred little ring!
+
+
+
+
+WHAT'S THE USE?
+
+
+Oh! What is living but moving about,
+Buoyed up with hope and crushed down by doubt?
+What is the draught of breath we harp on as life?
+Naught but a sip of peace, a cup full of strife--
+      What's the use?
+
+What is the place we call our home, "sweet home"?
+Naught but a span of space where one may roam:
+Night's pitchy corner; a hard crust of bread;
+Cot for your feeble limbs, pillow your head--
+      What's the use?
+
+Now, what is loving but acting a fool?
+And what is quitting?--Producing a rule:
+Break short the flight of Dan Cupid's swift dart,
+Aimed at the core of an innocent heart!
+      What's the use?
+
+Say, what is marrying but getting in trouble?
+Trifling 'way joy while your sorrow is double?
+What, then, is your state my friend, after you've wed?
+Naught but a vial of wrath poured upon your head!
+      What's the use?
+
+Ah! what is batching but living a man;
+Sporting and sleeping--just running his plan?
+Come when he's ready, and go when he please--
+Brain's full of joy, his heart is at ease--
+      See, that's the use!
+
+
+
+
+O GOD, WILT THOU HELP ME IN SCHOOL?
+
+
+    On Saturday, March 1, 1902, I left Alcorn and went home in
+    order to earn money enough to defray my expenses for the year
+    1902-03. I began work as soon as I reached home and labored
+    on father's farm until the last week in June, 1902. I had
+    seen by that time that there was nothing to be realized from
+    that source but disheartening failure.
+
+    I then acted as agent for the "Zion Record," published by
+    Rev. R. A. Adams, 39 St. Catherine Street, Natchez, Miss.,
+    until August 20, 1902. Knowing that there was a dormitory to
+    be built for girls at Alcorn, I went there, hoping to get
+    work and to be there when school opened. On arriving, I
+    failed to get employment. I had no money. The Boarding Hall
+    was run by boys who stayed over summer. Finding I was
+    unemployed, they refused to let me take meals with them.
+    There I was--friendless and penniless--without a bite of
+    bread and nowhere to lay my head. To drive the wolf of
+    starvation away and to keep from being devoured, I made
+    arrangements with President Lanier to cut wood for something
+    to eat, until school opened Sept. 2, 1902.
+
+    When school opened, the Faculty met the first day and
+    distributed the positions to the eligibles. On going down to
+    the Hall to take my first meal, to my surprise I found I had
+    been awarded the position of waiter. To hold a position, or
+    even remain on the Campus, one must matriculate within three
+    days after school starts, if there when it opens, or after he
+    arrives, if not. I then wrote home for the matriculation fee
+    ($13), as I had labored there all summer. As that letter was
+    sealed my destiny was sealed in it. It was one that hauled my
+    anchor of hope; yes, one to bring glad tidings of great joy
+    and crowning success, or the gloom of disastrous failure.
+    Thus, having my hope sealed, I wrote across it "In Haste!"
+
+    The night of its return was a dark, rainy one. As all sat
+    discussing different events that had transpired since the new
+    session had begun, suddenly a whistle was heard. How our
+    hearts throbbed with gladness as we exclaimed, "There, that's
+    the mail!" Dear reader, you cannot imagine how overjoyed I
+    was. I knew that bag contained a letter for me; so anxious
+    was I to receive it I did not trust anyone, but rushed to the
+    office, and ere long my name was called.
+
+    I opened it then and there, with an eager look for a green
+    piece of paper styled a "Money Order." I looked, but found it
+    not. All hope vanished; joy faded; and gloom hovered over
+    me--a feeling I never before had, nor since, and I hope never
+    again to have, electrified my body. It was then raining at
+    full headway: the lightnings flashed; the thunders pealed out
+    peal after peal, each succeeding one louder than the first.
+    By this time all had gone to bed but me. I thought thought
+    after thought, prayed prayer after prayer, sent up cry after
+    cry, shed tear after tear. I went to bed, but could not
+    sleep. I then thought of this subject: "O God, Wilt Thou Help
+    Me in School?" After writing it, my feelings were changed,
+    the gloom was dispelled, and 'Smiling Hope' returned with
+    joyous tidings of happiness and a blissful future.
+
+
+O, God to Thee, who knowest all things,
+  To Thee each being his praises brings,
+In heaven, or earth, or sea, or sky--
+  To-night to Thee I raise my cry.
+
+To-night as Thou doth know the why,
+  The why I make each tearful sigh--
+Hast Thou not crowned and blest my way?
+  Why'st Thou forsaken me to-day?
+
+To-night while in my deepest grief,
+  I calmly wait Thy sweet relief;
+Thou knowest I have done my best,
+  Oh, give my pondering soul some rest.
+
+To-night, O God, grant all to know,
+  For man to reap he first must sow;
+To know to have both bread and wine
+  He must reap all at harvest time.
+
+To-night, O God, to Thee I plead,
+  Thou must protect me, guide and lead
+Through this which is my darkest night
+  To a day when Thou shalt give me light.
+
+To-night my soul does bleed with pain,
+  As murky clouds drip down the rain!
+O God, heal me of this heart ache,
+  For thy dear Son Christ Jesus' sake.
+
+To-night me compass grief and fears,
+  To-night while drip heart-broken tears;
+There seems to be no one to save
+  My weeping soul from chilly grave.
+
+To-night as I, Thy servant, pray
+  To Thee, to turn my darkness day,
+And change my many blinding fears
+  To brighter hope for future years.
+
+O restless soul, thou canst not sleep,
+  For, ship-like, thou art tossed the deep;
+Aye, tossed by surge of mighty wave,
+  With none to share and none to save.
+
+O God, in Thee I now believe,
+  Since life in Thee I do receive;
+I pray Thee now with trembling fear
+  To my sad soul draw near, draw near.
+
+O God, Thou knowest this night I dread,
+  As 'twere to number me with the dead--
+I plead to Thee as by a rule,
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+To-night, O God, the darkest gloom
+  Hangs o'er me like a cloud to doom;
+I cry while sitting on this stool--
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+This wide world o'er my mind doth roam,
+  So many miles away from home,
+With thoughts thread-like wound in a spool--
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+Dear Lord, I ask of Thee one boon,
+  Pure as the light of "harvest moon";
+And cry as when bathed in a pool--
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+While time and tide flow o'er my mind,
+  For wisdom, Lord, I ever pine;
+But not in folly of a fool--
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+Oh, may I now look up and smile,
+  As children, mirthful all the while,
+When playing in the shade so cool--
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+When life's long journey nears its end,
+  And friend so dear must part from friend,
+To bathe deep in Thy living pool--
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+Oh days of woe, oh do relent,
+  For all my sins I now repent,
+To bathe in Siloam's ancient pool--
+  O God, right now help me in school.
+
+Ah, when this stormy life is o'er,
+  I'll moor my bark on th' eternal shore;
+Then shall I cross life's mortal pool,
+  And God will then help me in school!
+
+
+
+
+BEHIND THE BARS
+
+
+I am a pilgrim far from home,
+  A wanderer like Mars,
+And thought my wanderings ne'er should come,
+  So fixed behind the bars!
+
+I left my sunny Southern home
+  Beneath the silver stars;
+A northward path began to roam,
+  Not seeking prison bars.
+
+I sought a higher, holier life,
+  Which never virtue mars;
+But Fate had spun a net of strife
+  For me behind the bars!
+
+My mother's lowly thatched-roofed cot
+  My nobler senses jars;
+And so I seek to aid her lot,
+  But not behind the bars!
+
+'Tis said, forsooth, the poet learns
+  Through sufferings and wars
+To sing the song which deepest burns
+  Behind the prison bars!
+
+Thus I resign myself to Fate,
+  Regardless of her scars;
+For soon she'll open wide the gate
+  For me behind the bars.
+
+I plead to you, my fellow man,
+  For all who wear the tars;
+To lend what little help you can
+  To us behind the bars.
+
+O God, I breathe my prayer to Thee,
+  Who never sinner bars:
+Set each immortal spirit free
+  Behind these prison bars!
+
+
+
+
+HARVARD SQUARE
+
+
+'Tis once in life our dreams come true,
+  The myths of long ago,
+Quite real though fairy-like their view,
+  They surge with ebb and flow;
+Thus thou, O haunt of childhood dreams,
+  More beauteous and fair
+Than Nature's landscape and her streams,
+  Historic Harvard Square.
+
+My soul hath panted long for thee,
+  Like as the wounded hart
+That vainly strives himself to free
+  Full from the archer's dart;
+And struggled oft all, all alone
+  With burdens hard to bear,
+But now I stand at Wisdom's throne
+  To-night in Harvard Square.
+
+A night most tranquil,--I was proud
+  My thoughts soared up afar,
+To moonbeams pouring through the cloud,
+  Or some lone twinkling star;
+And musing thus, my quickened pace
+  Beat to the printery's glare,
+Where first I saw a friendly face
+  In classic Harvard Square.
+
+"Ho! stranger, thou art wan and worn
+  Of journey's wear and tear;
+Thy face all haggard and forlorn,
+  Pray tell me whence and where?"
+"I came--from out--the Sunny South--
+  The spot--on earth--most fair,"
+Fell lisping from my trembling mouth--
+  "In search--of--Harvard Square."
+
+"Here rest, my friend, upon this seat,
+  And feel thyself at home;
+I'll bring thee forth some drink and meat,
+  'Twill give thee back thy form."
+And then I prayed the Lord to bless
+  Us, and that little lair--
+Quite sure, I thought, I had found rest
+  Most sweet in Harvard Square.
+
+"I came," I said, "o'er stony ways,
+  Through mountain, hill and dale,
+I've felt old Sol's most scorching rays,
+  And braved the stormy gale;
+I've done this, Printer, not for gold,
+  Nor diamonds rich and rare--
+But for a burning in my soul
+  To learn in Harvard Square.
+
+"I've journeyed long without a drink
+  Nor yet a bite of bread,
+While in this state, O Printer, think--
+  No shelter for my head.
+I mused, 'Hope's yet this side the grave'--
+  My pluck and courage there
+Then made my languid heart bear brave--
+  Each throb for Harvard Square."
+
+A sound soon hushed my heart's rejoice--
+  "The watchman on his search?"
+"No!" rang the printer's gentle voice,
+  "'Deak' Wilson in from church.
+O'er there, good 'Deak'," the printer said,
+  "The wanderer in that chair,
+Hath come to seek the lore deep laid
+  Up here in Harvard Square."
+
+"It matters not how you implore,
+  He can no longer stay;
+But on the night's 'Plutonian shore,'
+  Await the coming day.
+I'm sorry, sir," he calmly said,
+  "Though hard, I guess 'tis fair,
+Thou hast no place to lay thy head--
+  Not yet in Harvard Square!"
+
+"Good night!" he said, and we the same--
+  I sighed, "Where shall I go?"
+He soon returned and with him came
+  An officer and--Oh!
+"Now sir, you take this forlorn tramp
+  With all his shabby ware,
+And guide him safely off the 'Camp'
+  Of dear old Harvard Square."
+
+As soon as locked within the jail,
+  Deep in a ghastly cell,
+Methought I heard the bitter wail
+  Of all the fiends of hell!
+"O God, to Thee I humbly pray
+  No treacherous prison snare
+Shall close my soul within for aye
+  From dear old Harvard Square."
+
+Just then I saw an holy Sprite
+  Shed all her radiant beams,
+And round her shone the source of light
+  Of all the poets' dreams!
+I plied my pen in sober use,
+  And spent each moment spare
+In sweet communion with the Muse
+  I met in Harvard Square!
+
+I cried: "Fair Goddess, hear my tale
+  Of sorrow, grief and pain."
+That made her face an ashen pale,
+  But soon it glowed again!
+"They placed me here; and this my crime,
+  Writ on their pages fair:--
+'He left his sunny native clime,
+  And came to Harvard Square!'"
+
+"Weep not, my son, thy way is hard,
+  Thy weary journey long--
+But thus I choose my favorite bard
+  To sing my sweetest song.
+I'll strike the key-note of my art
+  And guide with tend'rest care,
+And breathe a song into thy heart
+  To honor Harvard Square.
+
+"I called old Homer long ago,
+  And made him beg his bread
+Through seven cities, ye all know,
+  His body fought for, dead.
+Spurn not oppression's blighting sting,
+  Nor scorn thy lowly fare;
+By them I'll teach thy soul to sing
+  The songs of Harvard Square.
+
+"I placed great Dante in exile,
+  And Byron had his turns;
+Then Keats and Shelley smote the while,
+  And my immortal Burns!
+But thee I'll build a sacred shrine,
+  A store of all my ware;
+By them I'll teach thy soul to sing
+  'A place in Harvard Square.'
+
+"To some a store of mystic lore,
+  To some to shine a star:
+The first I gave to Allan Poe,
+  The last to Paul Dunbar.
+Since thou hast waited patient, long,
+  Now by my throne I swear
+To give to thee my sweetest song
+  To sing in Harvard Square."
+
+And when she gave her parting kiss
+  And bade a long farewell,
+I sat serene in perfect bliss
+  As she forsook my cell.
+Upon the altar-fire she poured
+  Some incense very rare;
+Its fragrance sweet my soul assured
+  I'd enter Harvard Square.
+
+Reclining on my couch, I slept
+  A sleep sweet and profound;
+O'er me the blessed angels kept
+  Their vigil close around.
+With dawning's smile, my fondest hope
+  Shone radiant and fair:
+The Justice cut each chain and rope
+  'Tween me and Harvard Square!
+
+          _Cell No. 40, East Cambridge Jail,
+              Cambridge, Mass., July 26, 1910_
+
+
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+Though man through life so swiftly wends,
+  And o'er its journey runs his race;
+Though rough, or smooth, or 'round the bends,
+  In distance putting fleetest friend:
+Alas! there comes a halting place,
+  A place of rest--the journey's end!
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes
+
+Original variations in spelling, hyphenation, and punctuation have
+been retained except for the following three changes:
+
+Page 29: A comma was added after banks for consistency.
+  (From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,--)
+
+Page 62: Caucasin was changed to Caucasian
+  (statements which place them with the Caucasian race;)
+
+Page 65: Pharaoahs changed to Pharaohs.
+  (Once in great splendor did thy Pharaohs rule)
+
+Page 22: In the line: "There are homes are our natal, and nothing is
+fatal," the first "are" may be a typo for "our." Left unchanged.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sylvan Cabin, by Edward Smyth Jones
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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Sylvan Cabin, A Centenary Ode on the Birth of Lincoln and Other Verse, by Edward Smyth Jones.
+    </title>
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sylvan Cabin, by Edward Smyth Jones
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sylvan Cabin
+       A Centenary Ode on the Birth of Lincoln and Other Verse
+
+Author: Edward Smyth Jones
+
+Contributor: William Stanley Braithwaite
+
+Release Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #26036]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SYLVAN CABIN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by K Nordquist, Diane Monico, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_f-001" id="Page_f-001"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<p class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;">
+<img src="images/image001.jpg" width="404" height="600" alt="cover" title="" />
+</p>
+
+<h1>THE SYLVAN CABIN</h1>
+
+<p class="figcenter" style="width: 195px;">
+<img src="images/image004.png" width="195" height="150" alt="" title="" />
+</p>
+
+<h2>EDWARD SMYTH JONES</h2>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-001" id="Page_p-001"></a></span></p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_f-002" id="Page_f-002"></a></span></p>
+
+<h1>THE SYLVAN CABIN</h1>
+
+<h2>A CENTENARY ODE ON<br />
+THE BIRTH OF LINCOLN</h2>
+
+<h2>AND OTHER VERSE</h2>
+
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+<h2>EDWARD SMYTH JONES</h2>
+
+
+<h5>WITH INTRODUCTION BY</h5>
+<h3>WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE</h3>
+
+<p class="figcenter" style="width: 149px;">
+<img src="images/image002.png" width="149" height="200" alt="" title="" />
+</p>
+
+<h5>BOSTON</h5>
+<h4>SHERMAN, FRENCH &amp; COMPANY</h4>
+
+<h4>1911</h4>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-002" id="Page_p-002"></a></span></p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p class="center">Copyright, 1911</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Sherman, French &amp; Company</span></p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-003" id="Page_p-003"></a></span></p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+
+<p class="center">TO</p>
+
+<h4>THE HON. ARTHUR P. STONE</h4>
+
+<p class="center">Justice of the Third District Court</p>
+
+<p class="center">Cambridge, Massachusetts</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image003.jpg" width="400" height="191" alt="(signature)" title="" />
+</p>
+
+<p class="center">Edward Smyth Jones<br />
+Boston, Mass.</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-004" id="Page_p-004"></a></span></p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-005" id="Page_p-005"></a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>INTRODUCTION</h2>
+
+
+<p>A poet that comes through a unique experience,
+as so many poets have, and very recently
+as the author of this volume has, arrives through
+his personality rather than his work at a precipitate
+sort of fame that may serve his talents well
+or serve them ill. To know that a man was sent
+to jail as the consequence of a passionate desire
+to go to college, and that that desire involved the
+tramping of dusty and hungry miles, adds to the
+interest to the man that cannot fail in some significant
+way to set a glamor upon the poet. Poetry
+is made out of experience&mdash;the experience of
+dreams, of action, of desires and hopes baffled
+on the inexplicable sea of circumstance; in these
+latter the dream is as the spirit, and the man
+whose art becomes an expression of all he has
+realized in living, his experiences become something
+more than art, they are the subtle rendering
+reality that is truth.</p>
+
+<p>In these poems of Mr. Jones' it is that which
+gives them a unique value because they are in a
+deeply essential manner the rendering of a human
+document, as all poems must be, of an individual
+who speaks universally. I emphasize this quality
+first because art registers its worth by the vitality
+of its substance. If the substance be vital, then
+its embodiment is artistically successful to the
+degree in which the maker has felt his experiences.
+These poems, then, will come to many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-006" id="Page_p-006"></a></span>
+readers with a freshness, with the appeal for a
+certain sympathy that will compel attention.
+The opening poem which celebrates the centenary
+of Lincoln's birth, with its fine imaginative
+sweep, is as good as any poem I have seen which
+that occasion called forth. In it is poetry that
+ought to assure Mr. Jones' future if circumstances
+permit him to cultivate an art for which
+nature has so obviously endowed him. "The
+Sylvan Cabin" in spirit may be said to characterize
+the author's book; that upward striving
+toward the ideal, which taking a personal expression
+in his own experience, in his own hopes, has
+also a larger significance in voicing the aspirations
+of those for whom, as is shown in many
+other poems, he becomes a voice, a representative.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Jones' work has already won for him
+the approbation of many literary people, his
+poems having appeared from time to time in
+various publications; this fact not only justifies
+his gathering them together in this volume, but
+being so recognized must fill him with a certain
+assurance for the future. To this I can only add
+that, good as these are, they give us the hope
+for better from one who ought certainly to go
+on and upward.</p>
+
+<p class="author">William Stanley Braithwaite.</p>
+<p><i>Boston, April 5, 1911.</i></p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-007" id="Page_p-007"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="6" cellspacing="0" summary="toc">
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='right'>PAGE</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE SYLVAN CABIN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-009">9</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>LIFE IN A DREAM</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-022">22</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE MORNING STAR</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-024">24</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>TO ESTELLE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-025">25</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A SONG OF THANKS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-027">27</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>NOT YET A POET</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-032">32</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A BOUQUET</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-033">33</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>AN ODE TO THE SOLDIERS' AND SAILORS' MONUMENT</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-034">34</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>TO A FADED FLOWER</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-037">37</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>DAINTY DORA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-039">39</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE VIOLIN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-040">40</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>WOMAN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-041">41</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE BACHELOR'S SONG</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-045">45</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>PUT NOTHING IN ANOTHER'S WAY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-047">47</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>FLOATING WITH THE GALE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-050">50</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>LULA JOHNSON'S SONG</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-053">53</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A TRIBUTE TO DUNBAR</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-057">57</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>WERE I A BIRD</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-059">59</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>AN ODE TO ETHIOPIA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-062">62</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>TO J. S. B.</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-072">72</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE MAYOR'S RING</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-073">73</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>WHAT'S THE USE?</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-074">74</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>O GOD, WILT THOU HELP ME IN SCHOOL?</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-076">76</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>BEHIND THE BARS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-084">84</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>HARVARD SQUARE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-086">86</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE END</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_p-096">96</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-009" id="Page_p-009">[Pg 009]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><a name="THE_SYLVAN_CABIN" id="THE_SYLVAN_CABIN"></a>THE SYLVAN CABIN</h2>
+
+<h3>A CENTENARY ODE ON THE BIRTH OF LINCOLN</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="poemtitle">
+<span class="i0">I<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">O, fairest Dame of sylvan glades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We come to pay thee homage due,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Embrace thee softly and to kiss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy lovely, long-forsaken cheeks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To smooth thy flowing silver locks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bind about thy snowy neck<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A necklace golden studded full<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With rarest gems and shining pearls.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our eyes, though sometimes dimmed with tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In purer lustre sparkle forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whene'er they fall agaze on thee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our ears attuned to thy sweet lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Catch every flowing, cadent note<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bear it ever safe within<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our rapturous hearts, which gladly leap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whene'er thy name is called!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-010" id="Page_p-010">[Pg 010]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Deep in our souls the quenchless fire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of love full brightly burns upon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sacred altar, set apart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For sprite commune and sacrifice;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose high-priest tends with loving care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And unto thee sweet incense burns.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our tongues most gladly sing thy praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from it ne'er shall cease&mdash;till all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The land be free!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+
+<span class="i0">II<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+
+<span class="i2">A century lonely hast thou stood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here all forsaken and forgot!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All men failed thee to visit save<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some idle lover of sylvan haunts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who trod, perchance, this hallowed spot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cast a pensive eye upon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This lovely glade, thy sole abode<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Full lost in these continuous woods),<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-011" id="Page_p-011">[Pg 011]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">And brooding o'er thy lowly lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft thus did muse: "This cabin lone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here stands to tell the tale of him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Back-woodsman brave, who having scaled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mystic mountains ne'er returned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To them, though loved yet left behind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But here he chose his last abode,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These gloomy woods whose blackness stands<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up hard against horizon's slope;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grim, spectral, dreaded, and untrod<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save monsters great of savage mien,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That prowled, or crouched upon their prey;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sent forth a vicious roar that fairly shook<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old Sylvia far and near, from vale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through crag to mountain peak!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-012" id="Page_p-012">[Pg 012]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">Upon this spot the redskin oft<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has danced his 'War dance' and his 'Feast,'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His face a reddish hue aglow&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long locks with eaglets' plumes bedecked;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His bow and never-failing dart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And scalper dangling at his side.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More brightly gleamed his wary eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As braves the war-whoop loudly yelled&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A sight more like the fiery fiends<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Pluto's ghastly shore returned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than human blood and bone!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They all have gone and left no tale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But woe which hurled them ever hence<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To that shore whence no bark returns.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old Cabin, thou, a land-mark art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of human progress' steady march!"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-013" id="Page_p-013">[Pg 013]</a></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+
+<span class="i0">III<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+
+<span class="i14">Of thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus has time passed with naught more said;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For man in his pedantic art<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soars far in feeble flights of song<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Nature's heart, and thus he fails<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Nature's God to hold commune!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The bard has slept, dreamed many a dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But failed to dream one dream of thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High hangs his lyre on willow reed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sitting 'neath yon shady nook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He fails to catch one note of thy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Immortal song that fills the air.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Awake, O bard, from sleep so deep!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Attune thy lyre; let Nature breathe<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-014" id="Page_p-014">[Pg 014]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">In her immortal breath of song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then wilt thou sing a song most sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The song by Nature's vesper choir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through all the countless ages sung,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still is singing day by day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then all the world will join thy sweet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Refrain in praise and ardent love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of this fair forest Dame!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+
+<span class="i0">IV<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+
+
+<span class="i2">The nations all their day shall have;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet each in turn shall rise and fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As falls the dark brown autumn leaf;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or as those dread sky-kissing tides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which toss frail barks high upon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some ghastly, frowning storm-beat shore,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though slowly, yet quite surely ebb away.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-015" id="Page_p-015">[Pg 015]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">&mdash;Aye! Egypt fair once spread the Nile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And green-bay-tree-like proudly flourished;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her snowy sails sea-ports bedecked,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And deeply ploughed the rolling main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or clave the placid lakes, as does<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gentle swan, when some soft breeze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bulrush stirs, flings its perfume<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the rippling silver waves!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair cities dotted here and there<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her vast domain. Her royal line<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Pharaohs held the sceptre gold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon her all-emblazoned throne.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now Egypt fair is wreck and ruin.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, as fled on the flight of years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The unrelenting Hand of time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wiped her sweet visage off the globe!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-016" id="Page_p-016">[Pg 016]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Naught save the grim, grey pyramid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sublimest work of man, yet stands<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To greet the rosy morn, with proud<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Uplifted head, expanded chest&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A death defiant scoff at time!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet hoary Time in his wild rage<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of wreck and ruin, like Jove shall hurl<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His fiery bolts upon the head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of pyramid with ire, and crush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And raze it to its base with scorn!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+
+<span class="i0">V<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+
+<span class="i2">Next Greece, the fairest nymph that trod<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This belted globe upon, once shone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As shines the Morning Orb, long ere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Dawn the rosy East has kissed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High reared her sacred temples in<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Olympia's shady groves, and built<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There sacred altars to her gods.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-017" id="Page_p-017">[Pg 017]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">Old Zeus and Phoebus oft here sat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In council with their fellow gods.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Homer, fiery bard, was first<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To smite the chords of nature's lyre;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet sang he till the earth was filled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With rarest strains of rapturous song!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then art and letters blew and blushed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fairest flowers of ages past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose essence, spilled upon the breeze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is wafted still forever on<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The twin deft with the flight of years;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And man in calm delight inhales<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fragrance of pure classic lore!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But Greece is gone! Her statues fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are mingled with the dust; each god<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has flown some fairer clime to rule,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or, subdued, walks the dark abyss.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-018" id="Page_p-018">[Pg 018]</a></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+
+<span class="i0">VI<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+
+<span class="i2">Then Rome, the gaudy Southern Queen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On seven rugged, rock-ribbed hills<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Securely built her throne. The world<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then saw a mighty power rise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In splendor great, as does the sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On some young, swift-winged morn of June.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A brighter dawning seemed to break;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another life was lived,&mdash;for through<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Roman vein there coursed a blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A fiery burning blood of ire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That rose and conquered all the world.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Great C&aelig;sar led her legions forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From victory on to victory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hung her royal pennons high<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In tower, palace-hall, and throne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Roman sceptre swayed the globe.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-019" id="Page_p-019">[Pg 019]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Soft music soothed her savage ear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fine arts and sculptor were her toys,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And glory was her "starry crown."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now we read the "Fall of Rome,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The doleful lay that tells the tale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all who thus have passed away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+
+<span class="i0">VII<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+
+<span class="i2">To thee, fair Dame, we thus relate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The things which were but are no more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That thou mightest know the worldly way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And knowing, have no timid fear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To ever stir thy peaceful breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No fate like theirs awaits for thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Fortune's maid shall tend with care<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy every nod and beck&mdash;yes, place<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon thy queenly brow a crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The "starry crown" by Freedom worn!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-020" id="Page_p-020">[Pg 020]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">'Tis true no flint rock ribs thy base,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No stone thy corner marks; for that<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What carest thou? For boasted pride?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy frame is of the sturdy oak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Inlaid with ribs of stately pine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Prince and Princess twain are they<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all Columbia's giant woods.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sylvan songsters sing thy praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From dawn till set of sun, and then<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The nightingale, the queen of song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In praise of thee poureth forth her lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till every mellow silver note,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far floating in the silent trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is taken by an elfish choir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And chanted softly to the moon.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-021" id="Page_p-021">[Pg 021]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">The eagle her wee eaglets tells<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of thee, that they may freedom love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then soaring full beyond the clouds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She looks with vaunted pride on thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So must thy spirit fill the hearts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all Columbia's youth, as once<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It filled old "Honest Abe," thy son,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy pride&mdash;the first-born of thy love.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For when each lowly lad well knows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That ever upwards he may soar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond vain tyrants' galling sway<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To fairer climes where Freedom reigns:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then will the shadow of thy wing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For aye to them a shelter be!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-022" id="Page_p-022">[Pg 022]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="LIFE_IN_A_DREAM" id="LIFE_IN_A_DREAM"></a>LIFE IN A DREAM</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is nothing so sweet as our life in our dreams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When we soar far on fancy's swift wing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a thing in our dreams is all that it seems,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the songs are so sweet that we sing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah! the sun shines the brightest, and stars twinkle lightest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">At the moon in her silvery beams!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is nothing so gay as the life in our dreams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With its joy and its laughter and mirth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the pleasure that teems is far greater, one deems,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Than any he finds in the earth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There are homes are our natal, and nothing is fatal<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the beautiful land of our dreams!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-023" id="Page_p-023">[Pg 023]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is nothing so bright as the life in our dreams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Far away from earth's trickery chance;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There the music's wild screams and the wine in its streams<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Are both lost in the song and the dance.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! our joy is the sweetest and life is completest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ah! the life in our beautiful dreams!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is nothing serene as the life in our dreams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When the dove to his mate softly cooes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the groves by the streams and the moon's silver beams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where the swain oft his maid gently wooes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There the swains are the rarest and maids are the fairest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And their love is as true as it seems!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-024" id="Page_p-024">[Pg 024]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_MORNING_STAR" id="THE_MORNING_STAR"></a>THE MORNING STAR</h2>
+
+<h3>TO A. B. B.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou art, fair maid, the Morning Star,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The guide of dawning day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sendest diamond sparkles far<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To wake the flowers of May.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou makest earth to bloom anew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A boon thou'rt wont to give,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And spillest out the morning dew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That all may blush and live.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou guardest with thy hand of might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And never showeth frown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Earth lullest sleep when cometh night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And wak'st her with the dawn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fair maiden, God hast given thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All power near and far,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rosy dawning's light to be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The brightest Morning Star.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-025" id="Page_p-025">[Pg 025]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="TO_ESTELLE" id="TO_ESTELLE"></a>TO ESTELLE</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Coy, sweet maid, I love so well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fair Estelle.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How much I love thee tongue can't tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sweet Estelle.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I love thee&mdash;love thee true&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More than violets love the dew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More than roses love the sun&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Do I love thee, dearest one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dear Estelle!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah! my heart love's passions swell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For Estelle!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How I love my actions tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thee, Estelle:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I love thy smiling face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thy captivating grace&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love thy dreamy 'witching eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More than planets love the skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wee Estelle!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-026" id="Page_p-026">[Pg 026]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now I smite my lyre to swell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For Estelle;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Music's most entrancing spell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O'er Estelle.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With my fingers on my keys,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the balmy morning breeze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stealing softly through the grain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will I gently wake a strain<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For Estelle!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How I love my little belle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My Estelle!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deepest in my sacred dell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is Estelle!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I esteem my maiden love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More than angels high above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More than demons in the sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love is light and life to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Estelle!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-027" id="Page_p-027">[Pg 027]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_SONG_OF_THANKS" id="A_SONG_OF_THANKS"></a>A SONG OF THANKS</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For the sun that shone at the dawn of spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the flowers which bloom and the birds that sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the verdant robe of the gray old earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For her coffers filled with their countless worth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the flocks which feed on a thousand hills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the rippling streams which turn the mills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the lowing herds in the lovely vale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the songs of gladness on the gale,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-028" id="Page_p-028">[Pg 028]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For the farmer reaping his whitened fields,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the bounty which the rich soil yields,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the cooling dews and refreshing rains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the sun which ripens the golden grains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the beaded wheat and the fattened swine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the stall&egrave;d ox and the fruitful vine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the tubers large and cotton white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the kid and the lambkin frisk and blithe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the swan which floats near the river-banks,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-029" id="Page_p-029">[Pg 029]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For the pumpkin sweet and the yellow yam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the corn and beans and the sugared ham,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the plum and the peach and the apple red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the dear old press where the wine is tread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the cock which crows at the breaking dawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the proud old "turk" of the farmer's barn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the fish which swim in the babbling brooks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the game which hide in the shady nooks,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-030" id="Page_p-030">[Pg 030]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For the sturdy oaks and the stately pines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the lead and the coal from the deep, dark mines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the silver ores of a thousand fold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the diamond bright and the yellow gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the river boat and the flying train,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the fleecy sail of the rolling main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the velvet sponge and the glossy pearl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the flag of peace which we now unfurl,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-031" id="Page_p-031">[Pg 031]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For the lowly cot and the mansion fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the peace and plenty together share,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the Hand which guides us from above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Thy tender mercies, abiding love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the blessed home with its children gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For returnings of Thanksgiving Day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the bearing toils and the sharing cares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We lift up our hearts in our songs and our prayers,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-032" id="Page_p-032">[Pg 032]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="NOT_YET_A_POET" id="NOT_YET_A_POET"></a>NOT YET A POET</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Aye! many a rhyme my pen has flown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In oblivion, all unknown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still many more, perchance, I say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Float on in one unbroken lay&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ask me naught of where or when,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Long as they ring in hearts of men!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dear friend, I say these words to you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which through the ages will be true:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though I have power to combine<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">These subtle rhymes of each sweet line&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, I shall never live to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The title "<span class="smcap">poet</span>" given me!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-033" id="Page_p-033">[Pg 033]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_BOUQUET" id="A_BOUQUET"></a>A BOUQUET</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A blossom pink, a blossom blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Make all there is in love so true.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis fit, methinks, my heart to move,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To give it thee, sweet girl, I love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, take it, dear, this morn and wear<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A wreath of beauty in thy hair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think on it, when from bliss we part&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The emblem of my wooing heart!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-034" id="Page_p-034">[Pg 034]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="AN_ODE_TO_THE_SOLDIERS_AND_SAILORS_MONUMENT" id="AN_ODE_TO_THE_SOLDIERS_AND_SAILORS_MONUMENT"></a>AN ODE TO THE SOLDIERS' AND SAILORS' MONUMENT</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou most majestic Queen of sculptural art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What learn&egrave;d architect designed thy throne?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who traced thy stately form in head and heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sent the sculptor forth to carve the stone?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O speak, fair Queen, for thou art not alone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ten thousand unseen voices join refrain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That softly floats in one melodious tone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As sweet as any ancient harper's strain<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In odes to Indiana's silent victors slain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy court well marks the conquest of the West,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A citadel sprung out the forest wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A mecca where the pilgrims quietly rest:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Each dame's content&mdash;content each sportive child;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fiery redmen nevermore revile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nor haunt the footprints of thy daring sons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose noble spheres are widening all the while,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like as some brilliant star its orbit runs<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sheds on earth its light down from a thousand suns.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-035" id="Page_p-035">[Pg 035]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy throne emblazoned with the rarest jewels,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Each wall adorned with battered coats of mail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Choice relics of some bloody fields or duels,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A legend or some untold battle tale.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I see the scouts go forth upon the trail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And soldiers charging over battlements&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The weeping mother sends to God her wail;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">While passion's rage the mortal heart laments,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The dove of peace is caged in direst banishments.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But see yon arms, full flushing victory<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Brings hope, and joy is ringing everywhere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the "starry banner of the free,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That shields her children from the tyrant's snare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The peasant turns him to his lowly fare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The rich pursues wild phantoms at his ease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rustic plies his long-forsaken share,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And lo! the dove is cooing, "Peace, sweet peace;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For Mars has snatched his bolts from out the rosy East.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-036" id="Page_p-036">[Pg 036]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when the last familiar scene has gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And brightest dawn has kissed the sable night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then thou shalt smile on faces yet unborn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And be to them a gleaming beacon light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Might shall fall and on his throne sit Right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When bloody wars and petty strifes have ceased;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then thou shalt don thy spotless robe of white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And say to man as hostess of the feast:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"My brother, sheath thy sword; the end of life is peace."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-037" id="Page_p-037">[Pg 037]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="TO_A_FADED_FLOWER" id="TO_A_FADED_FLOWER"></a>TO A FADED FLOWER</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>To a violet that faded on my coat at Natchez, Miss.
+March 8th, 1902.</p></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Alas! thou lovely floweret wee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Fate blew a blighting breath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the delicate form of thee,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou'st met untimely death!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou blowest, blushest nevermore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To drink the dews of night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy sweet though short-lived life is o'er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou seest no more the light.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Twas vain! aye, vain! the selfish strife<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That drooped thy purple crest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some swain or maiden took thy life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To deck a love-lorn breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, floweret wee, the God who made<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All in the earth and sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Decreed that thou should blow and fade,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All else should live and die!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-038" id="Page_p-038">[Pg 038]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now, he who wails the floweret's fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And all the rest of man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must meet that fate, aye soon or late,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And scale their measured span.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We are but flowers that blush and blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As flight of years rolls on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With time and tide's cold ebb and flow&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">'Tis said&mdash;"He's dead and gone!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For as the maid clips off the stems<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where once the flowers have been,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So angels pluck earth's rarest gems,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Immortal souls of men!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flower fadeth into air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From whence its life is given&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But man's soul shining rich and rare<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ascendeth into heaven.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-039" id="Page_p-039">[Pg 039]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="DAINTY_DORA" id="DAINTY_DORA"></a>DAINTY DORA</h2>
+
+<h3>TO D. M. M.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Greeks once sang a lovely song<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To their maiden Cora;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But my lay floats soft along<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To my Dainty Dora.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Frenchmen sing of Anne Belle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Romans sang of Flora;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I sing my song to tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of my Dainty Dora.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Scotchmen sing their songs to move<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Mary or Debora;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I sing my song of love&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Love for Dainty Dora.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Poets now a song may give<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Psyche or Lenora;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I'll sing long as I live<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Just for Dainty Dora!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-040" id="Page_p-040">[Pg 040]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_VIOLIN" id="THE_VIOLIN"></a>THE VIOLIN</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thrice hail the still unconquered King of Song!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For all adore and love the Master Art<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That reareth his throne in temple of the heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And smiteth chords of passion full and strong<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till music sweet allures the sorrowing throng!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then by the gentle curving of his bow<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Maketh every mellow note in cadence flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To recompense the world of all its wrong.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Although the earth is full of cares and throes<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That tempt the crimson stream of life to cloy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou mak'st glad hearts and trip'st "fantastic toes,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And fillest weary souls with mirth and joy&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The soul-entrancing cadence of thy strings<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proclaims thee Song's unconquered "King of kings"!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-041" id="Page_p-041">[Pg 041]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WOMAN" id="WOMAN"></a>WOMAN</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I call thee angel of this earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For angel true thou art<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In noble deeds and sterling worth<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sympathetic heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I, therefore, seek none from afar<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For what they might have been,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But sing the praise of those which are<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That dwell on earth with men.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For when man was a tottling wee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Snug nestling on thy breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or sporting gay upon thy knee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oh, thou who lovest him best;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An overflowing stream of love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sprung at his very birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And made thee gentle as a dove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Fair angel of this earth.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-042" id="Page_p-042">[Pg 042]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou cheerest ever blithesome youth<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With songs and fervent prayers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fillest heart with love and truth<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A store for future cares.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou lead'st him safely in his prime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">True guide of every stage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then at last, as fades the time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou comfortest his age.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like as the sunshine after rain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Far chasing 'way the mist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou soothest human grief and pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Fleet messenger of bliss.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In battles where the sword and shield<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Full lay the mighty low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou hov'rest ever o'er the field,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To ease life's ebb and flow!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-043" id="Page_p-043">[Pg 043]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou standest, ever standest near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Before man's waning eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An angel true to him more dear<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Than all beyond the skies!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No fabled sprites of chants and creeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nor myths of bygone years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For thou suppliest all his needs<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And wip'st his briny tears.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So, if he quail in desert waste<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or toss life's stormy sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He turns his tear-stained eye in haste<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For one fond glimpse of thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He longs to hide beneath thy wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And nestle on thy breast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He lists to hear thee softly sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Him into peaceful rest!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-044" id="Page_p-044">[Pg 044]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, sing aloud Mt. Zion's songs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To cheer each languid heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For now some feeble spirit longs<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thy blessings to impart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus thou keepest the Master's will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And showest all thy worth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through loving kindness thou art still<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The angel of this earth!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-045" id="Page_p-045">[Pg 045]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_BACHELORS_SONG" id="THE_BACHELORS_SONG"></a>THE BACHELOR'S SONG</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While I keep my lonely hall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You are welcome one and all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As I sing my little song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stay, I'll cheer you all day long&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sow my bachelor-buttons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sow my bachelor-buttons.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While this world is wild with glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chime I now my song to thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In my bosom lurks no care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I can loiter everywhere&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sow my bachelor-buttons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sow my bachelor-buttons.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh dear, what a happy life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the man who has no wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To bind with sore distresses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And silk and satin dresses&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While he sows his bachelor-buttons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While he sows his bachelor-buttons.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-046" id="Page_p-046">[Pg 046]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His heart is ever merry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His way is bright and cheery;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No peevish baby crying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No jealous wife a-sighing&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While he sows his bachelor-buttons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While he sows his bachelor-buttons.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah! praise the God who hath given<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A life so much like heaven;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quit it? Oh no, I'll never,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But live happy forever&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sow my bachelor-buttons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sow my bachelor-buttons.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-047" id="Page_p-047">[Pg 047]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="PUT_NOTHING_IN_ANOTHERS_WAY" id="PUT_NOTHING_IN_ANOTHERS_WAY"></a>PUT NOTHING IN ANOTHER'S WAY</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Put nothing in another's way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who's plodding on through life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But fill each heart with joy each day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With peace instead of strife.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So then let not a missent word,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or thought, or act, or deed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be by our weaker brother heard<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To cause his heart to bleed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Put nothing in another's way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">It clear and ample leave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For words and actions day by day<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Life's great example weave.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis then not meet that we should think<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That we are solely free<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In manners, dress, in food, or drink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or fulsome revelry.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-048" id="Page_p-048">[Pg 048]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Put nothing in another's way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Just learn the Christian part<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To let a holy, sunny ray<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Shine in thy brother's heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Help him to bear his load of care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His soul get edified&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas only for the soul's welfare<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That Jesus bled and died.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Put nothing in another's way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ye who are sent to teach;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No dark cloud cast across the day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ye who the gospel preach.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye twain must set the truth aright<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With joy and peace and love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For in your souls shines forth the light<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From Jesus Christ above.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-049" id="Page_p-049">[Pg 049]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Put nothing in another's way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Belov&egrave;d Christian friends;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On through your toils, and cares, still pray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Till life's fleet journey ends.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When at the resurrection dawn<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Eternal life is given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We'll get our harp, our robe, our crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The star-lit crown of heaven.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-050" id="Page_p-050">[Pg 050]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="FLOATING_WITH_THE_GALE" id="FLOATING_WITH_THE_GALE"></a>FLOATING WITH THE GALE</h2>
+
+<h3>TO MY LOST BROTHER</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ships the angry sea is lashing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But I launch my little bark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though the thunder peals are crashing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the sea is pitchy dark!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See by lightning's vivid flashing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How to shift my tattered sail&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far across the billows dashing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I am floating with the gale.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+
+<span class="i4">CHORUS<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Floating, floating, floating ever<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On the stormy deep blue sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far from father and dear mother<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And, true love, away from thee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go, ye zephyrs, sweetly laden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Cheer my loved ones in their wail;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell my wee sweet bright-eyed maiden<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I am floating with the gale!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-051" id="Page_p-051">[Pg 051]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the siren maids are waking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And are singing wild sea songs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dear, they start my heart to aching,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For its love to thee belongs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now my love-lorn soul is shaking<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With a spell of bitter wail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my heart is sadly breaking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For I'm floating with the gale!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">CHORUS<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now my hopes are fading ever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Gloom is chasing 'way the bliss;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dear, I know that I can never<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Come thy ruby lips to kiss!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But my heart will cling forever<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To that love I oft did hail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For those ties I can not sever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Though I'm floating with the gale!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">CHORUS<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-052" id="Page_p-052">[Pg 052]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear, my heart is ever longing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Longs surfmen my bark to save;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through my brain these thoughts are thronging,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of a grave beneath the wave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of loved ones my heart is wronging,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the belly of the whale;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Round my soul their ghosts are thronging,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As I'm floating with the gale!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+
+<span class="i4">CHORUS<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear, I fain would be returning<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To the cove just where thou art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While my languid breast is burning<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Light and love full out my heart!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But cruel Fate my hopes is spurning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And winds blow against my sail;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While out Death my life is burning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I'm still floating with the gale!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+
+<span class="i4">CHORUS<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-053" id="Page_p-053">[Pg 053]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="LULA_JOHNSONS_SONG" id="LULA_JOHNSONS_SONG"></a>LULA JOHNSON'S SONG</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Written in Quinn Chapel, A. M. E. Church, Ninth and
+Walnut Streets, Louisville, Ky., Wednesday evening,
+October 16th, 1907, while Miss Lula E. Johnson was singing
+"Ave Maria."</p></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I have heard the mock-bird singing when the orchards were in bloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the sweetness of his music made the peacock don his plume;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ay! I've heard cock-robin-redbreast chirping on a sunny day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the skylark soaring skywards, merrily sing his festal lay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the brown thrush and the bluebird thrill their little treble notes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the woodland songsters pouring songs of gladness from their throats&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But not one has touched so deeply, and not one has last so long<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the ever ringing cadence of sweet Lula Johnson's song!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-054" id="Page_p-054">[Pg 054]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the breeze has ceased to whisper and the night is soft and still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save the awe-provoking shrilling of the ghastly whippoorwill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the moonbeams pour down brightly on the woodland, hill and dale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I oft listen at my window to the queenly nightingale;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But no song of merry woodland, neither hill, nor dale, nor dell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has ever smote my bosom, nor has made my spirit swell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the soul-inspiring music that so softly glides along<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! so softly and so gently in sweet Lula Johnson's song!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-055" id="Page_p-055">[Pg 055]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh! my soul has caught the music, as it softly floats along&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah! the soul-entrancing music of sweet Lula Johnson's song!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If my feet shall ever falter, it shall cheer me on my way;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ay, sustain and give me comfort,&mdash;make my feeble spirit gay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All we need to have, my brothers, in our war of peace 'gainst strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is the cadence of sweet music sprinkled in to sweeten life;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It will sweeten all our bitters, which now seem so very long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If we have it soft and gentle, as sweet Lula Johnson's song.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-056" id="Page_p-056">[Pg 056]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the lonely hours of midnight, when fair Luna 'gins to pale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have heard her songs a-ringing, floating softly on the gale.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I hope when dawns the morning, when I draw my fleeting breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When my friends are gathered 'round me, and my eyes are closed in death&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere you throw the sods upon me, on my never-heaving breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While my body's lying silent and my soul is seeking rest&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then I'll wing straight home to glory, for the journey won't be long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the spirit-wafting music of sweet Lula Johnson's song!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-057" id="Page_p-057">[Pg 057]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_TRIBUTE_TO_DUNBAR" id="A_TRIBUTE_TO_DUNBAR"></a>A TRIBUTE TO DUNBAR</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sweetest singer once thou wast, but art no more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">An elf thou wast of what thou now shalt be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where thou art in realms of that celestial shore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There thou shalt sing through all eternity.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We, peerless bard, bewail thy loss<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And shed heart-broken tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Though meekly thou hast borne thy cross<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And winged the flight of years!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thrice blessed singer, wrapped in heavenly bliss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of earth's poor souls thy fortune who can tell?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perchance thy splendid lot be solely this:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To change thy lute with the angel Israfel!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If so, then smite thy golden strings<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">With fingers nimble, strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till all along fair heaven rings<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">With cadence of thy song!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-058" id="Page_p-058">[Pg 058]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thee tyrant earth once held, imprisoned soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That suffered tortures of relentless strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair heaven now holds within her sheltered fold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And gives thee robe and harp&mdash;eternal life!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Grant him, O God, unfaltering breath<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">To sing from heaven afar<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A song to cheer our souls in death&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The peerless Paul Dunbar!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-059" id="Page_p-059">[Pg 059]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WERE_I_A_BIRD" id="WERE_I_A_BIRD"></a>WERE I A BIRD</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Were I a bird free born to fly<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Aloof on two wee, downy wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My canopy would be the sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When rosy morn its dawning springs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Were I a bird I'd sweetly sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Earth's vesper song in tree-tops high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And chant the carol of the Spring<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To every weary passer by.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Were I a bird, the sweetest voice<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That human ear has ever heard,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mocking-bird would be my choice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For he's the sweetest singing bird!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-060" id="Page_p-060">[Pg 060]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Were I a bird my life would be<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In keeping with the Will divine&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'd sing His carols full and free<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In spreading oak and cony pine!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Were I a bird through air I'd roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Just flitting on the morning breeze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In search of summer's sunny dome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To live contentedly at ease.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Were I a bird I'd sing a tune<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For farmers seeking shady rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the spreading oak in June,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In swinging boughs that rock my nest.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-061" id="Page_p-061">[Pg 061]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Were I a bird I'd scale the cliff<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When dawns the bleak December day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far from the ice and snow I'd shift<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Until the fairest day in May!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Were I a bird, a mocking-bird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The King of birdie's singing sons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My music would fore'er be heard<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As I sweet sang to cheerless ones.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Were I a bird I'd seek my rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When jocund Day blows out his light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In boughs that hover o'er my nest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I'd sweetly sing, "Good Night, Good Night!"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-062" id="Page_p-062">[Pg 062]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="AN_ODE_TO_ETHIOPIA" id="AN_ODE_TO_ETHIOPIA"></a>AN ODE TO ETHIOPIA</h2>
+
+<h3>TO THE ASPIRING NEGRO YOUTH</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>After years of patient study and historical research, I
+have made the following deductions of parts played by the
+Ethiopian in the annals of history, under the caption, "An
+Ode to Ethiopia." It is true that questions will rise regarding
+the racial identity of some of my characters, in
+view of historical statements which place them with the
+Caucasian race; yet I firmly believe, were impartial history
+written, my claims would be justified. However, Time,
+the great Arbiter, will finally decide the equity of my
+claims.</p></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="poemtitle">
+<span class="i0">I<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou Sovran Queen of Afric's sunny strands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I smite my lyre to sing thy praise unsung;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In strains far sweeter than seraphic bands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A lay deep in my bosom's core is sprung.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair Queen, although my years as yet be young,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Deep thoughts and musings of thy history old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where odes and fiery epics long have hung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Live centuries in my immortal soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And strike sweet Lydian measures on my harp of gold.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-063" id="Page_p-063">[Pg 063]</a></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">II<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Therefore, my song floats softly up to thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Full soft as those sweet zephyrs of the spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of which it was and is and still must be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The sweetest of aeolian strains that ring!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I breathe it on the soft sea winds which bring<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Their cooling treasures from the rolling deep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 'fresh my brow and make my sad heart sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And ever lure my drowsy eyes from sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And bid thy vesper chorist strictest vigil keep.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">III<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of all the nations that have trod the earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In civil states or in the forest wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou wast the first of real enlightened birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Born in fair Egypt on the spreading Nile.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In valleys fertile, sunny climates mild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou sternly taught the "chosen" Hebrew race&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Madonna sheltered with her Holy Child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who came to plead man's all unworthy case,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And drained His sacred heart, earth's vilest sin efface!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-064" id="Page_p-064">[Pg 064]</a></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">IV<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Long ere the Grecian oped his classic lids<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or mould' true beauty with artistic hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou reared upon thy plains the lofty pyramids,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With sphinx and obelisks 'decked thy burning sands.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aye! Queen, thou then wast hailed in all the lands<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Long ere vain Babel 'fused the human tongue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In dialects rude of wild barbaric bands;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou soared to Wisdom's realm, her sceptre wrung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And reigned the wisest queen the nations all among.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">V<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou first taught man the mystic sciences probe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To scan earth's apex, median, and base;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou, too, inscribed the belt around the globe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And made deep tracings on its hoary face.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well fixed each angle, arc, and line in place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then soared thou far into the "milky way,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far in the bright, celestial span of space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where orbs and planets all their homage pay<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Unto the sun, the ever reigning "King of Day."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-065" id="Page_p-065">[Pg 065]</a></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">VI<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Once in great splendor did thy Pharaohs rule<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In Egypt, with her glory flown of yore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They laid foundations of the mundane school,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And taught the art of governmental lore.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then from thy great military store<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou sent the gallant Hannibal to war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Taught Romans tactics never known before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And filled their hearts with ever-cowering awe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And bowed their haughty heads to thy majestic law.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">VII<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But in this age is writ another story;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then pen of arrogant, vain Caucasian sage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has thee full robbed of thy immortal glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And smeared thy name on History's sacred page!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forsooth, the Book, once closed for many an age,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Is opened by thy sons&mdash;though fraught with pain&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The curtain's drawn; they rise upon the stage;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And their valiant deeds and blood shall wash the stain<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As clean as April showers wash the dusty plain.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-066" id="Page_p-066">[Pg 066]</a></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">VIII<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I sing now of thy heroes of today,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thy sturdy warriors and thy gallant knights,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who charge into the thickest of the fray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And die for country and their free-born rights,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For orphans, widows and their little mites.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thus, Attucks brave, without a moment's pause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(While reeled the Nation in her darkest plights)<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Full bared his breast in Freedom's holy cause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">First fell and tore the code of Tyranny's cruel laws!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">IX<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now, if my lay is yet not sweet enough,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I'll bid a gentler, subtler strain awake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sing of fights with Jackson on the Gulf<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And Perry's hard-fought battle on the Lake!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of fights in fen and moor and hoary brake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On Lookout Mountain and the rolling main&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through searing blasts of bleak December's flake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And drenching torrents of fair April's rain:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Their valiant deeds are springing ever up amain!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-067" id="Page_p-067">[Pg 067]</a></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">X<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They fought, the Union from State's Rights to free;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">At Vicksburg, Wagner, and Port Hudson lent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their aid; their deeds at Pillow and Olustee<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Rose surge on surge like ocean billows rent!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The praises of the gallant Ninth and Tenth<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Will ever rise and soft float to the sky&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They bagged Old Bull in Rocky Mountain tent;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then stormed the Spanish block-housed Hills on high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And bade the tyrant Spaniard's heaving heart to die!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">XI<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"High time, my Haitian islet must be free!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Great Touissant thus his declaration tacks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then drives proud Frenchmen into the yawning sea&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"The bravest whites, by bravest of the blacks."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brave Maceo pursues the Spanish packs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And Aguinaldo, in the mountain wilds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pours shot and shell into the tyrants' backs&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They save her throne and Freedom on them smiles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">True heroes, and the Fathers of their sunlit Isles!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-068" id="Page_p-068">[Pg 068]</a></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">XII<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy sons have triumphed in the Halls of State;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hamilton and Douglas were the first to gain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With lightning eye and tongue of thunder great,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The civic lead of thy illustrious train.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Next Bruce and Revels, senatorial twain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">John Lynch and Small emit a brilliant light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Langston, Pinchback, Cheatham all remain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With Dancy, Vernon, Anderson, and White,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Liang Williams, Lyons, Terrell stand for "Civic Right."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">XIII<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In science's realm with Banneker we start,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then read on Medicae's emblazoned wall:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Dan Williams here first stitched the human heart!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Close by the names of Curtis, Boyd, and Hall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But others list'd and heard Invention's call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In all its sweetness of the days of yore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Woods, the greatest foreman of them all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Shouts on his voyage with Black and Baltimore:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"We come! we come! good Dame, thy region to explore!"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-069" id="Page_p-069">[Pg 069]</a></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">XIV<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I, too," said 'Monia Lewis, "can make a man!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then mould' his form with most artistic ease&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But all aeolian strains Blind Tom could scan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And play as softly as the South Sea breeze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon his major and his minor keys!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Good Douglas gently wakes the violin's song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And White leads home the zephyrs from the seas;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">While Coleridge-Taylor with an art more strong<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Full finds the key-note of Dame Nature's vesper song!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">XV<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If shady nooks in Poesy's realm they choose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or barks to drift the smooth, prosaic stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There Phillis held communion with the Muse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And Chesnutt woke the "Colonel" from his dream!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Max Barber, Thompson, Knox and Fortune beam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Great Braithwaite scales the classic mountain heights,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Cooper, like a beacon light, will gleam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">While Dunbar, sun-like, sheds his holy lights<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In dazzling splendor on his solar satellites!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-070" id="Page_p-070">[Pg 070]</a></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">XVI<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">These brilliant names shall never fade away:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Emblazoned in the sacred Hall of Fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They shall remain till dawns that direful Day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The valid seal beneath thy sacred name.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deft Tanner, artist, ever blazing flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With Pickens, Bruce and Locke of classic dell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old Truth and Harper, Yates and Ruffin came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And Walker, Terrell, Williams, known so well<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Long ere Marie had taught the hoary world to spell!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">XVII<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The learned Scarborough writes the classic Greek;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Dean Miller thinks in calculations cold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Cogman writes the annals of the meek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">DuBois reveals the secrets of the Soul!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But all shall read in letters gilded gold:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"Who teaches head and heart and hands, has won<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The priceless boon, the guerdon of the goal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The portion due thy most illustrious son,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Tuskegee's seer and sage, the noble Washington!"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-071" id="Page_p-071">[Pg 071]</a></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">XVIII<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy songs inspire and cheer the human soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Still plodding forth in search of Beulah's vale;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lead wondering lambs into the Master's fold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When Flora Burgeon's notes far float the gale!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though Patti Brown we loud applaud and hail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And Hackley's voice is heard in every land,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Black Patti is the queenly nightingale<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That leads the chorus, as they singing stand<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As Miriam stood, to sing thee to the "Promised Land!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="poemtitle">
+
+<span class="i0">XIX<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I see the Prophet's mandate to the land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In golden letters glit'ring in the sky:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Fair Ethiopia shall stretch forth her hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Her sons shall sway the earth long ere they die!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As swift as lightnings with the storm-clouds fly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To light the path celestial feet have trod:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So be thy soaring to the realms on high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When mortal feet no more shall tread this sod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And thy holy spirit wings its homeward flight to God!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-072" id="Page_p-072">[Pg 072]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="TO_J_S_B" id="TO_J_S_B"></a>TO J. S. B.</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>On seeing her December 25th, 1904, after two years'
+travel.</p></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Take, fair maid, these simple lines<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From my pen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think of strollings 'neath the pines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which have been&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long and lonesome were the days<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We were apart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But may Love, now, have her sways,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Bind heart to heart!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er main to isle and back to land<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Have I been;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beheld on either hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A maiden queen:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But none with captivating charms<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like thine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">None to nestle in her arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Love of mine!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Charms unto thee God gave<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To banish strife;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To glorify and save<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">One sweet life&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take this, dear, before we part<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From this bliss;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis but love flowing from my heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thine to kiss!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-073" id="Page_p-073">[Pg 073]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_MAYORS_RING" id="THE_MAYORS_RING"></a>THE MAYOR'S RING</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I hold a token in my hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A very tiny thing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet within its golden band<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A thousand memories cling.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Aye! thrice ten thousand memories cling<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of signal victories won,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enshrined within this little ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Reward of duty done.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I ever shall this token prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And wear it with true grace&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tie that binds the kindred ties<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of friendship race to race.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when I soar full through the skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Yet ever will I cling<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within the gates of Paradise<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">This sacred little ring!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-074" id="Page_p-074">[Pg 074]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHATS_THE_USE" id="WHATS_THE_USE"></a>WHAT'S THE USE?</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh! What is living but moving about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Buoyed up with hope and crushed down by doubt?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What is the draught of breath we harp on as life?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Naught but a sip of peace, a cup full of strife&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">What's the use?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What is the place we call our home, "sweet home"?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Naught but a span of space where one may roam:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Night's pitchy corner; a hard crust of bread;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cot for your feeble limbs, pillow your head&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">What's the use?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now, what is loving but acting a fool?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what is quitting?&mdash;Producing a rule:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Break short the flight of Dan Cupid's swift dart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aimed at the core of an innocent heart!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">What's the use?<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-075" id="Page_p-075">[Pg 075]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Say, what is marrying but getting in trouble?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Trifling 'way joy while your sorrow is double?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What, then, is your state my friend, after you've wed?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Naught but a vial of wrath poured upon your head!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">What's the use?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah! what is batching but living a man;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sporting and sleeping&mdash;just running his plan?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come when he's ready, and go when he please&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brain's full of joy, his heart is at ease&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">See, that's the use!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-076" id="Page_p-076">[Pg 076]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="O_GOD_WILT_THOU_HELP_ME_IN_SCHOOL" id="O_GOD_WILT_THOU_HELP_ME_IN_SCHOOL"></a>O GOD, WILT THOU HELP ME IN SCHOOL?</h2>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>On Saturday, March 1, 1902, I left Alcorn and went
+home in order to earn money enough to defray my expenses
+for the year 1902-03. I began work as soon as I
+reached home and labored on father's farm until the last
+week in June, 1902. I had seen by that time that there
+was nothing to be realized from that source but disheartening
+failure.</p>
+
+<p>I then acted as agent for the "Zion Record," published
+by Rev. R. A. Adams, 39 St. Catherine Street, Natchez,
+Miss., until August 20, 1902. Knowing that there was a
+dormitory to be built for girls at Alcorn, I went there,
+hoping to get work and to be there when school opened.
+On arriving, I failed to get employment. I had no money.
+The Boarding Hall was run by boys who stayed over summer.
+Finding I was unemployed, they refused to let me
+take meals with them. There I was&mdash;friendless and
+penniless&mdash;without a bite of bread and nowhere to lay my
+head. To drive the wolf of starvation away and to keep
+from being devoured, I made arrangements with President
+Lanier to cut wood for something to eat, until school
+opened Sept. 2, 1902.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-077" id="Page_p-077">[Pg 077]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When school opened, the Faculty met the first day and
+distributed the positions to the eligibles. On going down
+to the Hall to take my first meal, to my surprise I found
+I had been awarded the position of waiter. To hold a
+position, or even remain on the Campus, one must matriculate
+within three days after school starts, if there when it
+opens, or after he arrives, if not. I then wrote home for
+the matriculation fee ($13), as I had labored there all
+summer. As that letter was sealed my destiny was sealed
+in it. It was one that hauled my anchor of hope; yes,
+one to bring glad tidings of great joy and crowning success,
+or the gloom of disastrous failure. Thus, having my
+hope sealed, I wrote across it "In Haste!"</p>
+
+<p>The night of its return was a dark, rainy one. As all
+sat discussing different events that had transpired since the
+new session had begun, suddenly a whistle was heard.
+How our hearts throbbed with gladness as we exclaimed,
+"There, that's the mail!" Dear reader, you cannot
+imagine how overjoyed I was. I knew that bag contained
+a letter for me; so anxious was I to receive it I did not
+trust anyone, but rushed to the office, and ere long my
+name was called.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-078" id="Page_p-078">[Pg 078]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I opened it then and there, with an eager look for a
+green piece of paper styled a "Money Order." I looked,
+but found it not. All hope vanished; joy faded; and
+gloom hovered over me&mdash;a feeling I never before had, nor
+since, and I hope never again to have, electrified my body.
+It was then raining at full headway: the lightnings flashed;
+the thunders pealed out peal after peal, each succeeding
+one louder than the first. By this time all had gone to
+bed but me. I thought thought after thought, prayed
+prayer after prayer, sent up cry after cry, shed tear after
+tear. I went to bed, but could not sleep. I then thought
+of this subject: "O God, Wilt Thou Help Me in School?"
+After writing it, my feelings were changed, the gloom was
+dispelled, and 'Smiling Hope' returned with joyous tidings
+of happiness and a blissful future.</p></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O, God to Thee, who knowest all things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To Thee each being his praises brings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In heaven, or earth, or sea, or sky&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To-night to Thee I raise my cry.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-079" id="Page_p-079">[Pg 079]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-night as Thou doth know the why,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The why I make each tearful sigh&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hast Thou not crowned and blest my way?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Why'st Thou forsaken me to-day?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-night while in my deepest grief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I calmly wait Thy sweet relief;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou knowest I have done my best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oh, give my pondering soul some rest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-night, O God, grant all to know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For man to reap he first must sow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To know to have both bread and wine<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He must reap all at harvest time.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-night, O God, to Thee I plead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou must protect me, guide and lead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through this which is my darkest night<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To a day when Thou shalt give me light.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-080" id="Page_p-080">[Pg 080]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-night my soul does bleed with pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As murky clouds drip down the rain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O God, heal me of this heart ache,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For thy dear Son Christ Jesus' sake.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-night me compass grief and fears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To-night while drip heart-broken tears;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There seems to be no one to save<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My weeping soul from chilly grave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-night as I, Thy servant, pray<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To Thee, to turn my darkness day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And change my many blinding fears<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To brighter hope for future years.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O restless soul, thou canst not sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For, ship-like, thou art tossed the deep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aye, tossed by surge of mighty wave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With none to share and none to save.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-081" id="Page_p-081">[Pg 081]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O God, in Thee I now believe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Since life in Thee I do receive;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I pray Thee now with trembling fear<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To my sad soul draw near, draw near.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O God, Thou knowest this night I dread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As 'twere to number me with the dead&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I plead to Thee as by a rule,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O God, wilt Thou help me in school?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-night, O God, the darkest gloom<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hangs o'er me like a cloud to doom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I cry while sitting on this stool&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O God, wilt Thou help me in school?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This wide world o'er my mind doth roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So many miles away from home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With thoughts thread-like wound in a spool&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O God, wilt Thou help me in school?<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-082" id="Page_p-082">[Pg 082]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear Lord, I ask of Thee one boon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Pure as the light of "harvest moon";<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cry as when bathed in a pool&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O God, wilt Thou help me in school?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While time and tide flow o'er my mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For wisdom, Lord, I ever pine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But not in folly of a fool&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O God, wilt Thou help me in school?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, may I now look up and smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As children, mirthful all the while,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When playing in the shade so cool&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O God, wilt Thou help me in school?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When life's long journey nears its end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And friend so dear must part from friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To bathe deep in Thy living pool&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O God, wilt Thou help me in school?<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-083" id="Page_p-083">[Pg 083]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh days of woe, oh do relent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For all my sins I now repent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To bathe in Siloam's ancient pool&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O God, right now help me in school.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, when this stormy life is o'er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I'll moor my bark on th' eternal shore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then shall I cross life's mortal pool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And God will then help me in school!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-084" id="Page_p-084">[Pg 084]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="BEHIND_THE_BARS" id="BEHIND_THE_BARS"></a>BEHIND THE BARS</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I am a pilgrim far from home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A wanderer like Mars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thought my wanderings ne'er should come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So fixed behind the bars!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I left my sunny Southern home<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Beneath the silver stars;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A northward path began to roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Not seeking prison bars.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I sought a higher, holier life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which never virtue mars;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Fate had spun a net of strife<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For me behind the bars!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My mother's lowly thatched-roofed cot<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My nobler senses jars;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so I seek to aid her lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But not behind the bars!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-085" id="Page_p-085">[Pg 085]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis said, forsooth, the poet learns<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Through sufferings and wars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To sing the song which deepest burns<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Behind the prison bars!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus I resign myself to Fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Regardless of her scars;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For soon she'll open wide the gate<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For me behind the bars.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I plead to you, my fellow man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For all who wear the tars;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To lend what little help you can<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To us behind the bars.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O God, I breathe my prayer to Thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who never sinner bars:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Set each immortal spirit free<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Behind these prison bars!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-086" id="Page_p-086">[Pg 086]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HARVARD_SQUARE" id="HARVARD_SQUARE"></a>HARVARD SQUARE</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis once in life our dreams come true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The myths of long ago,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quite real though fairy-like their view,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They surge with ebb and flow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus thou, O haunt of childhood dreams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">More beauteous and fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than Nature's landscape and her streams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Historic Harvard Square.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My soul hath panted long for thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like as the wounded hart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That vainly strives himself to free<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Full from the archer's dart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And struggled oft all, all alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With burdens hard to bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now I stand at Wisdom's throne<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To-night in Harvard Square.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-087" id="Page_p-087">[Pg 087]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A night most tranquil,&mdash;I was proud<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My thoughts soared up afar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To moonbeams pouring through the cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or some lone twinkling star;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And musing thus, my quickened pace<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Beat to the printery's glare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where first I saw a friendly face<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In classic Harvard Square.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ho! stranger, thou art wan and worn<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of journey's wear and tear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy face all haggard and forlorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Pray tell me whence and where?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I came&mdash;from out&mdash;the Sunny South&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The spot&mdash;on earth&mdash;most fair,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fell lisping from my trembling mouth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"In search&mdash;of&mdash;Harvard Square."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-088" id="Page_p-088">[Pg 088]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Here rest, my friend, upon this seat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And feel thyself at home;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'll bring thee forth some drink and meat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">'Twill give thee back thy form."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then I prayed the Lord to bless<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Us, and that little lair&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quite sure, I thought, I had found rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Most sweet in Harvard Square.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I came," I said, "o'er stony ways,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Through mountain, hill and dale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I've felt old Sol's most scorching rays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And braved the stormy gale;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I've done this, Printer, not for gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nor diamonds rich and rare&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But for a burning in my soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To learn in Harvard Square.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-089" id="Page_p-089">[Pg 089]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I've journeyed long without a drink<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nor yet a bite of bread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While in this state, O Printer, think&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">No shelter for my head.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I mused, 'Hope's yet this side the grave'&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My pluck and courage there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then made my languid heart bear brave&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Each throb for Harvard Square."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A sound soon hushed my heart's rejoice&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"The watchman on his search?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"No!" rang the printer's gentle voice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"'Deak' Wilson in from church.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er there, good 'Deak'," the printer said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"The wanderer in that chair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath come to seek the lore deep laid<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Up here in Harvard Square."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-090" id="Page_p-090">[Pg 090]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"It matters not how you implore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He can no longer stay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But on the night's 'Plutonian shore,'<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Await the coming day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'm sorry, sir," he calmly said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"Though hard, I guess 'tis fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou hast no place to lay thy head&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Not yet in Harvard Square!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Good night!" he said, and we the same&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I sighed, "Where shall I go?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He soon returned and with him came<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">An officer and&mdash;Oh!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Now sir, you take this forlorn tramp<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With all his shabby ware,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And guide him safely off the 'Camp'<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of dear old Harvard Square."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-091" id="Page_p-091">[Pg 091]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As soon as locked within the jail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Deep in a ghastly cell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Methought I heard the bitter wail<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of all the fiends of hell!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"O God, to Thee I humbly pray<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">No treacherous prison snare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall close my soul within for aye<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From dear old Harvard Square."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Just then I saw an holy Sprite<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Shed all her radiant beams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And round her shone the source of light<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of all the poets' dreams!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I plied my pen in sober use,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And spent each moment spare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In sweet communion with the Muse<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I met in Harvard Square!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-092" id="Page_p-092">[Pg 092]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I cried: "Fair Goddess, hear my tale<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of sorrow, grief and pain."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That made her face an ashen pale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But soon it glowed again!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"They placed me here; and this my crime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Writ on their pages fair:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'He left his sunny native clime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And came to Harvard Square!'"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Weep not, my son, thy way is hard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thy weary journey long&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But thus I choose my favorite bard<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To sing my sweetest song.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'll strike the key-note of my art<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And guide with tend'rest care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And breathe a song into thy heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To honor Harvard Square.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-093" id="Page_p-093">[Pg 093]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I called old Homer long ago,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And made him beg his bread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through seven cities, ye all know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His body fought for, dead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spurn not oppression's blighting sting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nor scorn thy lowly fare;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By them I'll teach thy soul to sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The songs of Harvard Square.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I placed great Dante in exile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And Byron had his turns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then Keats and Shelley smote the while,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And my immortal Burns!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But thee I'll build a sacred shrine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A store of all my ware;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By them I'll teach thy soul to sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">'A place in Harvard Square.'<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-094" id="Page_p-094">[Pg 094]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"To some a store of mystic lore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To some to shine a star:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first I gave to Allan Poe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The last to Paul Dunbar.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since thou hast waited patient, long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Now by my throne I swear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To give to thee my sweetest song<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To sing in Harvard Square."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when she gave her parting kiss<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And bade a long farewell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I sat serene in perfect bliss<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As she forsook my cell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the altar-fire she poured<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Some incense very rare;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its fragrance sweet my soul assured<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I'd enter Harvard Square.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-095" id="Page_p-095">[Pg 095]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Reclining on my couch, I slept<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A sleep sweet and profound;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er me the blessed angels kept<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Their vigil close around.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With dawning's smile, my fondest hope<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Shone radiant and fair:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Justice cut each chain and rope<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">'Tween me and Harvard Square!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 10em;"><i>Cell No. 40, East Cambridge Jail</i>,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 12em;"><i>Cambridge, Mass., July 26, 1910</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-096" id="Page_p-096">[Pg 096]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_END" id="THE_END"></a>THE END</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though man through life so swiftly wends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And o'er its journey runs his race;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though rough, or smooth, or 'round the bends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In distance putting fleetest friend:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas! there comes a halting place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A place of rest&mdash;the journey's end!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_p-097" id="Page_p-097">[Pg 097]</a></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+
+<h3>Transcriber's Notes</h3>
+
+<p>Original variations in spelling, hyphenation, and punctuation have
+been retained except for the following three changes:</p>
+
+<p>
+Page <a href="#Page_p-029">29</a>: A comma was added after banks for consistency.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,&mdash;)</span><br />
+<br />
+Page <a href="#Page_p-062">62</a>: Caucasin was changed to Caucasian<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(statements which place them with the Caucasian race;)</span><br />
+<br />
+Page <a href="#Page_p-065">65</a>: Pharaoahs changed to Pharaohs.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Once in great splendor did thy Pharaohs rule)</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_p-022">22</a>: In the line: "There are homes are our natal, and nothing is
+fatal," the first "are" may be a typo for "our." Left unchanged.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sylvan Cabin, by Edward Smyth Jones
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sylvan Cabin, by Edward Smyth Jones
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sylvan Cabin
+       A Centenary Ode on the Birth of Lincoln and Other Verse
+
+Author: Edward Smyth Jones
+
+Contributor: William Stanley Braithwaite
+
+Release Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #26036]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SYLVAN CABIN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by K Nordquist, Diane Monico, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SYLVAN CABIN
+
+[Illustration]
+
+EDWARD SMYTH JONES
+
+
+
+
+THE SYLVAN CABIN
+
+A CENTENARY ODE ON
+THE BIRTH OF LINCOLN
+
+AND OTHER VERSE
+
+
+BY
+EDWARD SMYTH JONES
+
+
+WITH INTRODUCTION BY
+WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE
+
+[Illustration]
+
+BOSTON
+SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY
+
+1911
+
+
+
+
+Copyright, 1911
+
+SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+THE HON. ARTHUR P. STONE
+
+Justice of the Third District Court
+
+Cambridge, Massachusetts
+
+[Illustration: (signature)]
+
+Edward Smyth Jones
+Boston, Mass.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+A poet that comes through a unique experience, as so many poets have,
+and very recently as the author of this volume has, arrives through
+his personality rather than his work at a precipitate sort of fame
+that may serve his talents well or serve them ill. To know that a man
+was sent to jail as the consequence of a passionate desire to go to
+college, and that that desire involved the tramping of dusty and
+hungry miles, adds to the interest to the man that cannot fail in some
+significant way to set a glamor upon the poet. Poetry is made out of
+experience--the experience of dreams, of action, of desires and hopes
+baffled on the inexplicable sea of circumstance; in these latter the
+dream is as the spirit, and the man whose art becomes an expression of
+all he has realized in living, his experiences become something more
+than art, they are the subtle rendering reality that is truth.
+
+In these poems of Mr. Jones' it is that which gives them a unique
+value because they are in a deeply essential manner the rendering of a
+human document, as all poems must be, of an individual who speaks
+universally. I emphasize this quality first because art registers its
+worth by the vitality of its substance. If the substance be vital,
+then its embodiment is artistically successful to the degree in which
+the maker has felt his experiences. These poems, then, will come to
+many readers with a freshness, with the appeal for a certain sympathy
+that will compel attention. The opening poem which celebrates the
+centenary of Lincoln's birth, with its fine imaginative sweep, is as
+good as any poem I have seen which that occasion called forth. In it
+is poetry that ought to assure Mr. Jones' future if circumstances
+permit him to cultivate an art for which nature has so obviously
+endowed him. "The Sylvan Cabin" in spirit may be said to characterize
+the author's book; that upward striving toward the ideal, which taking
+a personal expression in his own experience, in his own hopes, has
+also a larger significance in voicing the aspirations of those for
+whom, as is shown in many other poems, he becomes a voice, a
+representative.
+
+Mr. Jones' work has already won for him the approbation of many
+literary people, his poems having appeared from time to time in
+various publications; this fact not only justifies his gathering them
+together in this volume, but being so recognized must fill him with a
+certain assurance for the future. To this I can only add that, good as
+these are, they give us the hope for better from one who ought
+certainly to go on and upward.
+
+            WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE.
+
+_Boston, April 5, 1911._
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                 PAGE
+
+THE SYLVAN CABIN                                    9
+
+LIFE IN A DREAM                                    22
+
+THE MORNING STAR                                   24
+
+TO ESTELLE                                         25
+
+A SONG OF THANKS                                   27
+
+NOT YET A POET                                     32
+
+A BOUQUET                                          33
+
+AN ODE TO THE SOLDIERS' AND SAILORS' MONUMENT      34
+
+TO A FADED FLOWER                                  37
+
+DAINTY DORA                                        39
+
+THE VIOLIN                                         40
+
+WOMAN                                              41
+
+THE BACHELOR'S SONG                                45
+
+PUT NOTHING IN ANOTHER'S WAY                       47
+
+FLOATING WITH THE GALE                             50
+
+LULA JOHNSON'S SONG                                53
+
+A TRIBUTE TO DUNBAR                                57
+
+WERE I A BIRD                                      59
+
+AN ODE TO ETHIOPIA                                 62
+
+TO J. S. B.                                        72
+
+THE MAYOR'S RING                                   73
+
+WHAT'S THE USE?                                    74
+
+O GOD, WILT THOU HELP ME IN SCHOOL?                76
+
+BEHIND THE BARS                                    84
+
+HARVARD SQUARE                                     86
+
+THE END                                            96
+
+
+
+
+THE SYLVAN CABIN
+
+A CENTENARY ODE ON THE BIRTH OF LINCOLN
+
+
+I
+
+    O, fairest Dame of sylvan glades,
+We come to pay thee homage due,
+Embrace thee softly and to kiss
+Thy lovely, long-forsaken cheeks;
+To smooth thy flowing silver locks
+And bind about thy snowy neck
+A necklace golden studded full
+With rarest gems and shining pearls.
+    Our eyes, though sometimes dimmed with tears,
+In purer lustre sparkle forth
+Whene'er they fall agaze on thee!
+Our ears attuned to thy sweet lay
+Catch every flowing, cadent note
+And bear it ever safe within
+Our rapturous hearts, which gladly leap
+Whene'er thy name is called!
+Deep in our souls the quenchless fire
+Of love full brightly burns upon
+The sacred altar, set apart
+For sprite commune and sacrifice;
+Whose high-priest tends with loving care,
+And unto thee sweet incense burns.
+Our tongues most gladly sing thy praise,
+And from it ne'er shall cease--till all
+The land be free!
+
+
+II
+
+    A century lonely hast thou stood
+Here all forsaken and forgot!
+All men failed thee to visit save
+Some idle lover of sylvan haunts
+Who trod, perchance, this hallowed spot,
+And cast a pensive eye upon
+This lovely glade, thy sole abode
+(Full lost in these continuous woods),
+And brooding o'er thy lowly lot,
+Oft thus did muse: "This cabin lone
+Here stands to tell the tale of him,
+Back-woodsman brave, who having scaled
+The mystic mountains ne'er returned
+To them, though loved yet left behind;
+But here he chose his last abode,
+These gloomy woods whose blackness stands
+Up hard against horizon's slope;
+Grim, spectral, dreaded, and untrod
+Save monsters great of savage mien,
+That prowled, or crouched upon their prey;
+Sent forth a vicious roar that fairly shook
+Old Sylvia far and near, from vale
+Through crag to mountain peak!
+    Upon this spot the redskin oft
+Has danced his 'War dance' and his 'Feast,'
+His face a reddish hue aglow--
+Long locks with eaglets' plumes bedecked;
+His bow and never-failing dart,
+And scalper dangling at his side.
+More brightly gleamed his wary eye,
+As braves the war-whoop loudly yelled--
+A sight more like the fiery fiends
+From Pluto's ghastly shore returned
+Than human blood and bone!
+    They all have gone and left no tale
+But woe which hurled them ever hence
+To that shore whence no bark returns.
+Old Cabin, thou, a land-mark art,
+Of human progress' steady march!"
+
+
+III
+
+                            Of thee
+Thus has time passed with naught more said;
+For man in his pedantic art
+Soars far in feeble flights of song
+From Nature's heart, and thus he fails
+With Nature's God to hold commune!
+    The bard has slept, dreamed many a dream,
+But failed to dream one dream of thee.
+High hangs his lyre on willow reed,
+And sitting 'neath yon shady nook,
+He fails to catch one note of thy
+Immortal song that fills the air.
+Awake, O bard, from sleep so deep!
+Attune thy lyre; let Nature breathe
+In her immortal breath of song;
+Then wilt thou sing a song most sweet,
+The song by Nature's vesper choir,
+Through all the countless ages sung,--
+And still is singing day by day.
+Then all the world will join thy sweet
+Refrain in praise and ardent love
+Of this fair forest Dame!
+
+
+IV
+
+    The nations all their day shall have;
+Yet each in turn shall rise and fall,
+As falls the dark brown autumn leaf;
+Or as those dread sky-kissing tides,
+Which toss frail barks high upon
+Some ghastly, frowning storm-beat shore,--
+Though slowly, yet quite surely ebb away.
+   --Aye! Egypt fair once spread the Nile,
+And green-bay-tree-like proudly flourished;
+Her snowy sails sea-ports bedecked,
+And deeply ploughed the rolling main,
+Or clave the placid lakes, as does
+The gentle swan, when some soft breeze
+The bulrush stirs, flings its perfume
+Upon the rippling silver waves!
+    Fair cities dotted here and there
+Her vast domain. Her royal line
+Of Pharaohs held the sceptre gold
+Upon her all-emblazoned throne.
+    Now Egypt fair is wreck and ruin.
+For, as fled on the flight of years,
+The unrelenting Hand of time
+Wiped her sweet visage off the globe!
+Naught save the grim, grey pyramid,
+Sublimest work of man, yet stands
+To greet the rosy morn, with proud
+Uplifted head, expanded chest--
+A death defiant scoff at time!
+Yet hoary Time in his wild rage
+Of wreck and ruin, like Jove shall hurl
+His fiery bolts upon the head
+Of pyramid with ire, and crush
+And raze it to its base with scorn!
+
+
+V
+
+    Next Greece, the fairest nymph that trod
+This belted globe upon, once shone
+As shines the Morning Orb, long ere
+The Dawn the rosy East has kissed;
+High reared her sacred temples in
+Olympia's shady groves, and built
+There sacred altars to her gods.
+    Old Zeus and Phoebus oft here sat
+In council with their fellow gods.
+And Homer, fiery bard, was first
+To smite the chords of nature's lyre;
+Sweet sang he till the earth was filled
+With rarest strains of rapturous song!
+    Then art and letters blew and blushed,
+The fairest flowers of ages past,
+Whose essence, spilled upon the breeze,
+Is wafted still forever on
+The twin deft with the flight of years;
+And man in calm delight inhales
+The fragrance of pure classic lore!
+    But Greece is gone! Her statues fair
+Are mingled with the dust; each god
+Has flown some fairer clime to rule,
+Or, subdued, walks the dark abyss.
+
+
+VI
+
+    Then Rome, the gaudy Southern Queen,
+On seven rugged, rock-ribbed hills
+Securely built her throne. The world
+Then saw a mighty power rise
+In splendor great, as does the sun
+On some young, swift-winged morn of June.
+A brighter dawning seemed to break;
+Another life was lived,--for through
+The Roman vein there coursed a blood,
+A fiery burning blood of ire,
+That rose and conquered all the world.
+    Great Caesar led her legions forth
+From victory on to victory,
+And hung her royal pennons high
+In tower, palace-hall, and throne;
+The Roman sceptre swayed the globe.
+Soft music soothed her savage ear,
+Fine arts and sculptor were her toys,
+And glory was her "starry crown."
+But now we read the "Fall of Rome,"
+The doleful lay that tells the tale
+Of all who thus have passed away.
+
+
+VII
+
+    To thee, fair Dame, we thus relate
+The things which were but are no more;
+That thou mightest know the worldly way,
+And knowing, have no timid fear
+To ever stir thy peaceful breast.
+No fate like theirs awaits for thee;
+For Fortune's maid shall tend with care
+Thy every nod and beck--yes, place
+Upon thy queenly brow a crown,
+The "starry crown" by Freedom worn!
+    'Tis true no flint rock ribs thy base,
+No stone thy corner marks; for that
+What carest thou? For boasted pride?
+Thy frame is of the sturdy oak,
+Inlaid with ribs of stately pine;
+The Prince and Princess twain are they
+Of all Columbia's giant woods.
+The sylvan songsters sing thy praise
+From dawn till set of sun, and then
+The nightingale, the queen of song,
+In praise of thee poureth forth her lay
+Till every mellow silver note,
+Far floating in the silent trees,
+Is taken by an elfish choir,
+And chanted softly to the moon.
+    The eagle her wee eaglets tells
+Of thee, that they may freedom love;
+Then soaring full beyond the clouds,
+She looks with vaunted pride on thee.
+So must thy spirit fill the hearts
+Of all Columbia's youth, as once
+It filled old "Honest Abe," thy son,
+Thy pride--the first-born of thy love.
+For when each lowly lad well knows
+That ever upwards he may soar,
+Beyond vain tyrants' galling sway
+To fairer climes where Freedom reigns:
+Then will the shadow of thy wing
+For aye to them a shelter be!
+
+
+
+
+LIFE IN A DREAM
+
+
+There is nothing so sweet as our life in our dreams,
+  When we soar far on fancy's swift wing;
+For a thing in our dreams is all that it seems,
+  And the songs are so sweet that we sing.
+Ah! the sun shines the brightest, and stars twinkle lightest
+  At the moon in her silvery beams!
+
+There is nothing so gay as the life in our dreams,
+  With its joy and its laughter and mirth;
+For the pleasure that teems is far greater, one deems,
+  Than any he finds in the earth.
+There are homes are our natal, and nothing is fatal
+  In the beautiful land of our dreams!
+
+There is nothing so bright as the life in our dreams,
+  Far away from earth's trickery chance;
+There the music's wild screams and the wine in its streams
+  Are both lost in the song and the dance.
+Oh! our joy is the sweetest and life is completest,
+  Ah! the life in our beautiful dreams!
+
+There is nothing serene as the life in our dreams,
+  When the dove to his mate softly cooes
+In the groves by the streams and the moon's silver beams,
+  Where the swain oft his maid gently wooes.
+There the swains are the rarest and maids are the fairest,
+  And their love is as true as it seems!
+
+
+
+
+THE MORNING STAR
+
+TO A. B. B.
+
+
+Thou art, fair maid, the Morning Star,
+  The guide of dawning day,
+And sendest diamond sparkles far
+  To wake the flowers of May.
+
+Thou makest earth to bloom anew,
+  A boon thou'rt wont to give,
+And spillest out the morning dew,
+  That all may blush and live.
+
+Thou guardest with thy hand of might,
+  And never showeth frown;
+Earth lullest sleep when cometh night,
+  And wak'st her with the dawn.
+
+Fair maiden, God hast given thee
+  All power near and far,--
+The rosy dawning's light to be,
+  The brightest Morning Star.
+
+
+
+
+TO ESTELLE
+
+
+Coy, sweet maid, I love so well,
+    Fair Estelle.
+How much I love thee tongue can't tell,
+    Sweet Estelle.
+But I love thee--love thee true--
+More than violets love the dew,
+More than roses love the sun--
+Do I love thee, dearest one,
+    Dear Estelle!
+
+Ah! my heart love's passions swell
+    For Estelle!
+How I love my actions tell
+    Thee, Estelle:
+That I love thy smiling face,
+And thy captivating grace--
+Love thy dreamy 'witching eyes
+More than planets love the skies,
+    Wee Estelle!
+
+Now I smite my lyre to swell
+    For Estelle;
+Music's most entrancing spell
+    O'er Estelle.
+With my fingers on my keys,
+Like the balmy morning breeze
+Stealing softly through the grain,
+Will I gently wake a strain
+    For Estelle!
+
+How I love my little belle,
+    My Estelle!
+Deepest in my sacred dell
+    Is Estelle!
+I esteem my maiden love
+More than angels high above,
+More than demons in the sea;
+Love is light and life to me,
+    And Estelle!
+
+
+
+
+A SONG OF THANKS
+
+
+For the sun that shone at the dawn of spring,
+For the flowers which bloom and the birds that sing,
+For the verdant robe of the gray old earth,
+For her coffers filled with their countless worth,
+For the flocks which feed on a thousand hills,
+For the rippling streams which turn the mills,
+For the lowing herds in the lovely vale,
+For the songs of gladness on the gale,--
+From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,--
+Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!
+
+For the farmer reaping his whitened fields,
+For the bounty which the rich soil yields,
+For the cooling dews and refreshing rains,
+For the sun which ripens the golden grains,
+For the beaded wheat and the fattened swine,
+For the stalled ox and the fruitful vine,
+For the tubers large and cotton white,
+For the kid and the lambkin frisk and blithe,
+For the swan which floats near the river-banks,--
+Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!
+
+For the pumpkin sweet and the yellow yam,
+For the corn and beans and the sugared ham,
+For the plum and the peach and the apple red,
+For the dear old press where the wine is tread,
+For the cock which crows at the breaking dawn,
+And the proud old "turk" of the farmer's barn,
+For the fish which swim in the babbling brooks,
+For the game which hide in the shady nooks,--
+From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,--
+Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!
+
+For the sturdy oaks and the stately pines,
+For the lead and the coal from the deep, dark mines,
+For the silver ores of a thousand fold,
+For the diamond bright and the yellow gold,
+For the river boat and the flying train,
+For the fleecy sail of the rolling main,
+For the velvet sponge and the glossy pearl,
+For the flag of peace which we now unfurl,--
+From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,--
+Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!
+
+For the lowly cot and the mansion fair,
+For the peace and plenty together share,
+For the Hand which guides us from above,
+For Thy tender mercies, abiding love,
+For the blessed home with its children gay,
+For returnings of Thanksgiving Day,
+For the bearing toils and the sharing cares,
+We lift up our hearts in our songs and our prayers,--
+From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,--
+Lord God of Hosts, we give Thee thanks!
+
+
+
+
+NOT YET A POET
+
+
+Aye! many a rhyme my pen has flown,
+  In oblivion, all unknown;
+Still many more, perchance, I say,
+  Float on in one unbroken lay--
+But ask me naught of where or when,
+  Long as they ring in hearts of men!
+Dear friend, I say these words to you,
+  Which through the ages will be true:
+Though I have power to combine
+  These subtle rhymes of each sweet line--
+Yet, I shall never live to see,
+  The title "POET" given me!
+
+
+
+
+A BOUQUET
+
+
+A blossom pink, a blossom blue,
+  Make all there is in love so true.
+'Tis fit, methinks, my heart to move,
+  To give it thee, sweet girl, I love!
+Now, take it, dear, this morn and wear
+  A wreath of beauty in thy hair;
+Think on it, when from bliss we part--
+  The emblem of my wooing heart!
+
+
+
+
+AN ODE TO THE SOLDIERS' AND SAILORS' MONUMENT
+
+
+Thou most majestic Queen of sculptural art,
+  What learned architect designed thy throne?
+Who traced thy stately form in head and heart,
+  And sent the sculptor forth to carve the stone?
+O speak, fair Queen, for thou art not alone;
+  Ten thousand unseen voices join refrain
+That softly floats in one melodious tone,
+  As sweet as any ancient harper's strain
+  In odes to Indiana's silent victors slain.
+
+Thy court well marks the conquest of the West,
+  A citadel sprung out the forest wild,
+A mecca where the pilgrims quietly rest:
+  Each dame's content--content each sportive child;
+The fiery redmen nevermore revile,
+  Nor haunt the footprints of thy daring sons,
+Whose noble spheres are widening all the while,
+  Like as some brilliant star its orbit runs
+  And sheds on earth its light down from a thousand suns.
+
+Thy throne emblazoned with the rarest jewels,
+  Each wall adorned with battered coats of mail,
+Choice relics of some bloody fields or duels,
+  A legend or some untold battle tale.
+I see the scouts go forth upon the trail,
+  And soldiers charging over battlements--
+The weeping mother sends to God her wail;
+  While passion's rage the mortal heart laments,
+  The dove of peace is caged in direst banishments.
+
+But see yon arms, full flushing victory
+  Brings hope, and joy is ringing everywhere
+Beneath the "starry banner of the free,"
+  That shields her children from the tyrant's snare.
+The peasant turns him to his lowly fare,
+  The rich pursues wild phantoms at his ease,
+The rustic plies his long-forsaken share,
+  And lo! the dove is cooing, "Peace, sweet peace;"
+  For Mars has snatched his bolts from out the rosy East.
+
+And when the last familiar scene has gone,
+  And brightest dawn has kissed the sable night,
+Then thou shalt smile on faces yet unborn,
+  And be to them a gleaming beacon light;
+For Might shall fall and on his throne sit Right,
+  When bloody wars and petty strifes have ceased;
+Then thou shalt don thy spotless robe of white,
+  And say to man as hostess of the feast:
+  "My brother, sheath thy sword; the end of life is peace."
+
+
+
+
+TO A FADED FLOWER
+
+    To a violet that faded on my coat at Natchez, Miss. March
+    8th, 1902.
+
+
+Alas! thou lovely floweret wee,
+  Fate blew a blighting breath
+Upon the delicate form of thee,--
+  Thou'st met untimely death!
+Thou blowest, blushest nevermore,
+  To drink the dews of night;
+Thy sweet though short-lived life is o'er,
+  Thou seest no more the light.
+
+'Twas vain! aye, vain! the selfish strife
+  That drooped thy purple crest;
+Some swain or maiden took thy life,
+  To deck a love-lorn breast.
+Ah, floweret wee, the God who made
+  All in the earth and sky,
+Decreed that thou should blow and fade,--
+  All else should live and die!
+
+Now, he who wails the floweret's fate,
+  And all the rest of man,
+Must meet that fate, aye soon or late,
+  And scale their measured span.
+We are but flowers that blush and blow,
+  As flight of years rolls on,
+With time and tide's cold ebb and flow--
+  'Tis said--"He's dead and gone!"
+
+For as the maid clips off the stems
+  Where once the flowers have been,
+So angels pluck earth's rarest gems,
+  Immortal souls of men!
+The flower fadeth into air,
+  From whence its life is given--
+But man's soul shining rich and rare
+  Ascendeth into heaven.
+
+
+
+
+DAINTY DORA
+
+TO D. M. M.
+
+
+Greeks once sang a lovely song
+  To their maiden Cora;
+But my lay floats soft along
+  To my Dainty Dora.
+
+Frenchmen sing of Anne Belle,
+  Romans sang of Flora;
+But I sing my song to tell
+  Of my Dainty Dora.
+
+Scotchmen sing their songs to move
+  Mary or Debora;
+But I sing my song of love--
+  Love for Dainty Dora.
+
+Poets now a song may give
+  Psyche or Lenora;
+But I'll sing long as I live
+  Just for Dainty Dora!
+
+
+
+
+THE VIOLIN
+
+
+Thrice hail the still unconquered King of Song!
+  For all adore and love the Master Art
+  That reareth his throne in temple of the heart;
+And smiteth chords of passion full and strong
+Till music sweet allures the sorrowing throng!
+  Then by the gentle curving of his bow
+  Maketh every mellow note in cadence flow,
+To recompense the world of all its wrong.
+Although the earth is full of cares and throes
+  That tempt the crimson stream of life to cloy,
+Thou mak'st glad hearts and trip'st "fantastic toes,"
+  And fillest weary souls with mirth and joy--
+The soul-entrancing cadence of thy strings
+Proclaims thee Song's unconquered "King of kings"!
+
+
+
+
+WOMAN
+
+
+I call thee angel of this earth,
+  For angel true thou art
+In noble deeds and sterling worth
+  And sympathetic heart.
+I, therefore, seek none from afar
+  For what they might have been,
+But sing the praise of those which are
+  That dwell on earth with men.
+
+For when man was a tottling wee,
+  Snug nestling on thy breast,
+Or sporting gay upon thy knee,
+  Oh, thou who lovest him best;
+An overflowing stream of love,
+  Sprung at his very birth,
+And made thee gentle as a dove,
+  Fair angel of this earth.
+
+Thou cheerest ever blithesome youth
+  With songs and fervent prayers,
+And fillest heart with love and truth
+  A store for future cares.
+Thou lead'st him safely in his prime,
+  True guide of every stage,
+And then at last, as fades the time,
+  Thou comfortest his age.
+
+Like as the sunshine after rain,
+  Far chasing 'way the mist,
+Thou soothest human grief and pain,
+  Fleet messenger of bliss.
+In battles where the sword and shield
+  Full lay the mighty low,
+Thou hov'rest ever o'er the field,
+  To ease life's ebb and flow!
+
+Thou standest, ever standest near,
+  Before man's waning eyes,
+An angel true to him more dear
+  Than all beyond the skies!
+No fabled sprites of chants and creeds,
+  Nor myths of bygone years,
+For thou suppliest all his needs
+  And wip'st his briny tears.
+
+So, if he quail in desert waste
+  Or toss life's stormy sea,
+He turns his tear-stained eye in haste
+  For one fond glimpse of thee.
+He longs to hide beneath thy wing,
+  And nestle on thy breast;
+He lists to hear thee softly sing
+  Him into peaceful rest!
+
+Oh, sing aloud Mt. Zion's songs,
+  To cheer each languid heart;
+For now some feeble spirit longs
+  Thy blessings to impart.
+And thus thou keepest the Master's will,
+  And showest all thy worth,
+Through loving kindness thou art still
+  The angel of this earth!
+
+
+
+
+THE BACHELOR'S SONG
+
+
+While I keep my lonely hall,
+You are welcome one and all,
+As I sing my little song;
+Stay, I'll cheer you all day long--
+And sow my bachelor-buttons,
+And sow my bachelor-buttons.
+
+While this world is wild with glee,
+Chime I now my song to thee;
+In my bosom lurks no care,
+I can loiter everywhere--
+And sow my bachelor-buttons,
+And sow my bachelor-buttons.
+
+Oh dear, what a happy life
+For the man who has no wife,
+To bind with sore distresses,
+And silk and satin dresses--
+While he sows his bachelor-buttons,
+While he sows his bachelor-buttons.
+
+His heart is ever merry,
+His way is bright and cheery;
+No peevish baby crying,
+No jealous wife a-sighing--
+While he sows his bachelor-buttons,
+While he sows his bachelor-buttons.
+
+Ah! praise the God who hath given
+A life so much like heaven;
+Quit it? Oh no, I'll never,
+But live happy forever--
+And sow my bachelor-buttons,
+And sow my bachelor-buttons.
+
+
+
+
+PUT NOTHING IN ANOTHER'S WAY
+
+
+Put nothing in another's way,
+  Who's plodding on through life,
+But fill each heart with joy each day,
+  With peace instead of strife.
+So then let not a missent word,
+  Or thought, or act, or deed
+Be by our weaker brother heard
+  To cause his heart to bleed.
+
+Put nothing in another's way,
+  It clear and ample leave;
+For words and actions day by day
+  Life's great example weave.
+'Tis then not meet that we should think
+  That we are solely free
+In manners, dress, in food, or drink,
+  Or fulsome revelry.
+
+Put nothing in another's way,
+  Just learn the Christian part
+To let a holy, sunny ray
+  Shine in thy brother's heart.
+Help him to bear his load of care,
+  His soul get edified--
+'Twas only for the soul's welfare
+  That Jesus bled and died.
+
+Put nothing in another's way,
+  Ye who are sent to teach;
+No dark cloud cast across the day,
+  Ye who the gospel preach.
+Ye twain must set the truth aright
+  With joy and peace and love;
+For in your souls shines forth the light
+  From Jesus Christ above.
+
+Put nothing in another's way,
+  Beloved Christian friends;
+On through your toils, and cares, still pray,
+  Till life's fleet journey ends.
+When at the resurrection dawn
+  Eternal life is given,
+We'll get our harp, our robe, our crown,
+  The star-lit crown of heaven.
+
+
+
+
+FLOATING WITH THE GALE
+
+TO MY LOST BROTHER
+
+
+Ships the angry sea is lashing;
+  But I launch my little bark,
+Though the thunder peals are crashing,
+  And the sea is pitchy dark!
+See by lightning's vivid flashing
+  How to shift my tattered sail--
+Far across the billows dashing,
+  I am floating with the gale.
+
+CHORUS
+
+Floating, floating, floating ever
+  On the stormy deep blue sea,
+Far from father and dear mother
+  And, true love, away from thee!
+Go, ye zephyrs, sweetly laden,
+  Cheer my loved ones in their wail;
+Tell my wee sweet bright-eyed maiden
+  I am floating with the gale!
+
+When the siren maids are waking,
+  And are singing wild sea songs,
+Dear, they start my heart to aching,
+  For its love to thee belongs.
+Now my love-lorn soul is shaking
+  With a spell of bitter wail,
+And my heart is sadly breaking,
+  For I'm floating with the gale!
+
+CHORUS
+
+Now my hopes are fading ever,
+  Gloom is chasing 'way the bliss;
+Dear, I know that I can never
+  Come thy ruby lips to kiss!
+But my heart will cling forever
+  To that love I oft did hail,
+For those ties I can not sever,
+  Though I'm floating with the gale!
+
+CHORUS
+
+Dear, my heart is ever longing,
+  Longs surfmen my bark to save;
+Through my brain these thoughts are thronging,
+  Of a grave beneath the wave;
+Of loved ones my heart is wronging,
+  And the belly of the whale;
+'Round my soul their ghosts are thronging,
+  As I'm floating with the gale!
+
+CHORUS
+
+Dear, I fain would be returning
+  To the cove just where thou art,
+While my languid breast is burning
+  Light and love full out my heart!
+But cruel Fate my hopes is spurning,
+  And winds blow against my sail;
+While out Death my life is burning,
+  I'm still floating with the gale!
+
+CHORUS
+
+
+
+
+LULA JOHNSON'S SONG
+
+    Written in Quinn Chapel, A. M. E. Church, Ninth and Walnut
+    Streets, Louisville, Ky., Wednesday evening, October 16th,
+    1907, while Miss Lula E. Johnson was singing "Ave Maria."
+
+
+I have heard the mock-bird singing when the orchards were in bloom,
+And the sweetness of his music made the peacock don his plume;
+Ay! I've heard cock-robin-redbreast chirping on a sunny day,
+And the skylark soaring skywards, merrily sing his festal lay;
+And the brown thrush and the bluebird thrill their little treble notes;
+All the woodland songsters pouring songs of gladness from their throats--
+But not one has touched so deeply, and not one has last so long
+As the ever ringing cadence of sweet Lula Johnson's song!
+
+When the breeze has ceased to whisper and the night is soft and still,
+Save the awe-provoking shrilling of the ghastly whippoorwill,
+As the moonbeams pour down brightly on the woodland, hill and dale,
+I oft listen at my window to the queenly nightingale;
+But no song of merry woodland, neither hill, nor dale, nor dell,
+Has ever smote my bosom, nor has made my spirit swell,
+Like the soul-inspiring music that so softly glides along
+Oh! so softly and so gently in sweet Lula Johnson's song!
+
+Oh! my soul has caught the music, as it softly floats along--
+Ah! the soul-entrancing music of sweet Lula Johnson's song!
+If my feet shall ever falter, it shall cheer me on my way;
+Ay, sustain and give me comfort,--make my feeble spirit gay.
+All we need to have, my brothers, in our war of peace 'gainst strife,
+Is the cadence of sweet music sprinkled in to sweeten life;
+It will sweeten all our bitters, which now seem so very long,
+If we have it soft and gentle, as sweet Lula Johnson's song.
+
+In the lonely hours of midnight, when fair Luna 'gins to pale,
+I have heard her songs a-ringing, floating softly on the gale.
+And I hope when dawns the morning, when I draw my fleeting breath,
+When my friends are gathered 'round me, and my eyes are closed in death--
+Ere you throw the sods upon me, on my never-heaving breast,
+While my body's lying silent and my soul is seeking rest--
+Then I'll wing straight home to glory, for the journey won't be long,
+On the spirit-wafting music of sweet Lula Johnson's song!
+
+
+
+
+A TRIBUTE TO DUNBAR
+
+
+The sweetest singer once thou wast, but art no more;
+  An elf thou wast of what thou now shalt be,
+Where thou art in realms of that celestial shore;
+  There thou shalt sing through all eternity.
+    We, peerless bard, bewail thy loss
+      And shed heart-broken tears,
+    Though meekly thou hast borne thy cross
+      And winged the flight of years!
+
+Thrice blessed singer, wrapped in heavenly bliss,
+  Of earth's poor souls thy fortune who can tell?
+Perchance thy splendid lot be solely this:
+  To change thy lute with the angel Israfel!
+    If so, then smite thy golden strings
+      With fingers nimble, strong,
+    Till all along fair heaven rings
+      With cadence of thy song!
+
+Thee tyrant earth once held, imprisoned soul,
+  That suffered tortures of relentless strife,
+Fair heaven now holds within her sheltered fold,
+  And gives thee robe and harp--eternal life!
+    Grant him, O God, unfaltering breath
+      To sing from heaven afar
+    A song to cheer our souls in death--
+      The peerless Paul Dunbar!
+
+
+
+
+WERE I A BIRD
+
+
+Were I a bird free born to fly
+  Aloof on two wee, downy wings,
+My canopy would be the sky
+  When rosy morn its dawning springs.
+
+Were I a bird I'd sweetly sing
+  Earth's vesper song in tree-tops high,
+And chant the carol of the Spring
+  To every weary passer by.
+
+Were I a bird, the sweetest voice
+  That human ear has ever heard,--
+The mocking-bird would be my choice,
+  For he's the sweetest singing bird!
+
+Were I a bird my life would be
+  In keeping with the Will divine--
+I'd sing His carols full and free
+  In spreading oak and cony pine!
+
+Were I a bird through air I'd roam,
+  Just flitting on the morning breeze,
+In search of summer's sunny dome,
+  To live contentedly at ease.
+
+Were I a bird I'd sing a tune
+  For farmers seeking shady rest
+Beneath the spreading oak in June,
+  In swinging boughs that rock my nest.
+
+Were I a bird I'd scale the cliff
+  When dawns the bleak December day,
+Far from the ice and snow I'd shift
+  Until the fairest day in May!
+
+Were I a bird, a mocking-bird,
+  The King of birdie's singing sons,
+My music would fore'er be heard
+  As I sweet sang to cheerless ones.
+
+Were I a bird I'd seek my rest
+  When jocund Day blows out his light;
+In boughs that hover o'er my nest
+  I'd sweetly sing, "Good Night, Good Night!"
+
+
+
+
+AN ODE TO ETHIOPIA
+
+TO THE ASPIRING NEGRO YOUTH
+
+    After years of patient study and historical research, I have
+    made the following deductions of parts played by the
+    Ethiopian in the annals of history, under the caption, "An
+    Ode to Ethiopia." It is true that questions will rise
+    regarding the racial identity of some of my characters, in
+    view of historical statements which place them with the
+    Caucasian race; yet I firmly believe, were impartial history
+    written, my claims would be justified. However, Time, the
+    great Arbiter, will finally decide the equity of my claims.
+
+
+I
+
+Thou Sovran Queen of Afric's sunny strands,
+  I smite my lyre to sing thy praise unsung;
+In strains far sweeter than seraphic bands,
+  A lay deep in my bosom's core is sprung.
+Fair Queen, although my years as yet be young,
+  Deep thoughts and musings of thy history old,
+Where odes and fiery epics long have hung,
+  Live centuries in my immortal soul
+  And strike sweet Lydian measures on my harp of gold.
+
+
+II
+
+Therefore, my song floats softly up to thee,
+  Full soft as those sweet zephyrs of the spring,
+Of which it was and is and still must be,
+  The sweetest of aeolian strains that ring!
+I breathe it on the soft sea winds which bring
+  Their cooling treasures from the rolling deep;
+They 'fresh my brow and make my sad heart sing
+  And ever lure my drowsy eyes from sleep,
+  And bid thy vesper chorist strictest vigil keep.
+
+
+III
+
+Of all the nations that have trod the earth,
+  In civil states or in the forest wild,
+Thou wast the first of real enlightened birth,
+  Born in fair Egypt on the spreading Nile.
+In valleys fertile, sunny climates mild,
+  Thou sternly taught the "chosen" Hebrew race--
+Madonna sheltered with her Holy Child,
+  Who came to plead man's all unworthy case,
+  And drained His sacred heart, earth's vilest sin efface!
+
+
+IV
+
+Long ere the Grecian oped his classic lids
+  Or mould' true beauty with artistic hands,
+Thou reared upon thy plains the lofty pyramids,
+  With sphinx and obelisks 'decked thy burning sands.
+Aye! Queen, thou then wast hailed in all the lands
+  Long ere vain Babel 'fused the human tongue
+In dialects rude of wild barbaric bands;
+  Thou soared to Wisdom's realm, her sceptre wrung,
+  And reigned the wisest queen the nations all among.
+
+
+V
+
+Thou first taught man the mystic sciences probe,
+  To scan earth's apex, median, and base;
+Thou, too, inscribed the belt around the globe,
+  And made deep tracings on its hoary face.
+Well fixed each angle, arc, and line in place,
+  Then soared thou far into the "milky way,"
+Far in the bright, celestial span of space,
+  Where orbs and planets all their homage pay
+  Unto the sun, the ever reigning "King of Day."
+
+
+VI
+
+Once in great splendor did thy Pharaohs rule
+  In Egypt, with her glory flown of yore;
+They laid foundations of the mundane school,
+  And taught the art of governmental lore.
+And then from thy great military store
+  Thou sent the gallant Hannibal to war,
+Taught Romans tactics never known before,
+  And filled their hearts with ever-cowering awe,
+  And bowed their haughty heads to thy majestic law.
+
+
+VII
+
+But in this age is writ another story;
+  Then pen of arrogant, vain Caucasian sage,
+Has thee full robbed of thy immortal glory,
+  And smeared thy name on History's sacred page!
+Forsooth, the Book, once closed for many an age,
+  Is opened by thy sons--though fraught with pain--
+The curtain's drawn; they rise upon the stage;
+  And their valiant deeds and blood shall wash the stain
+  As clean as April showers wash the dusty plain.
+
+
+VIII
+
+I sing now of thy heroes of today,
+  Thy sturdy warriors and thy gallant knights,
+Who charge into the thickest of the fray,
+  And die for country and their free-born rights,--
+For orphans, widows and their little mites.
+  Thus, Attucks brave, without a moment's pause,
+(While reeled the Nation in her darkest plights)
+  Full bared his breast in Freedom's holy cause,
+  First fell and tore the code of Tyranny's cruel laws!
+
+
+IX
+
+Now, if my lay is yet not sweet enough,
+  I'll bid a gentler, subtler strain awake,
+And sing of fights with Jackson on the Gulf
+  And Perry's hard-fought battle on the Lake!
+Of fights in fen and moor and hoary brake,
+  On Lookout Mountain and the rolling main--
+Through searing blasts of bleak December's flake,
+  And drenching torrents of fair April's rain:
+  Their valiant deeds are springing ever up amain!
+
+
+X
+
+They fought, the Union from State's Rights to free;
+  At Vicksburg, Wagner, and Port Hudson lent
+Their aid; their deeds at Pillow and Olustee
+  Rose surge on surge like ocean billows rent!
+The praises of the gallant Ninth and Tenth
+  Will ever rise and soft float to the sky--
+They bagged Old Bull in Rocky Mountain tent;
+  Then stormed the Spanish block-housed Hills on high,
+  And bade the tyrant Spaniard's heaving heart to die!
+
+
+XI
+
+"High time, my Haitian islet must be free!"
+  Great Touissant thus his declaration tacks;
+Then drives proud Frenchmen into the yawning sea--
+  "The bravest whites, by bravest of the blacks."
+Brave Maceo pursues the Spanish packs,
+  And Aguinaldo, in the mountain wilds,
+Pours shot and shell into the tyrants' backs--
+  They save her throne and Freedom on them smiles,
+  True heroes, and the Fathers of their sunlit Isles!
+
+
+XII
+
+Thy sons have triumphed in the Halls of State;
+  Hamilton and Douglas were the first to gain,
+With lightning eye and tongue of thunder great,
+  The civic lead of thy illustrious train.
+Next Bruce and Revels, senatorial twain;
+  John Lynch and Small emit a brilliant light,
+And Langston, Pinchback, Cheatham all remain;
+  With Dancy, Vernon, Anderson, and White,
+  Liang Williams, Lyons, Terrell stand for "Civic Right."
+
+
+XIII
+
+In science's realm with Banneker we start,
+  Then read on Medicae's emblazoned wall:
+"Dan Williams here first stitched the human heart!"
+  Close by the names of Curtis, Boyd, and Hall.
+But others list'd and heard Invention's call,
+  In all its sweetness of the days of yore,
+And Woods, the greatest foreman of them all,
+  Shouts on his voyage with Black and Baltimore:
+  "We come! we come! good Dame, thy region to explore!"
+
+
+XIV
+
+"I, too," said 'Monia Lewis, "can make a man!"
+  Then mould' his form with most artistic ease--
+But all aeolian strains Blind Tom could scan,
+  And play as softly as the South Sea breeze
+Upon his major and his minor keys!
+  Good Douglas gently wakes the violin's song,
+And White leads home the zephyrs from the seas;
+  While Coleridge-Taylor with an art more strong
+  Full finds the key-note of Dame Nature's vesper song!
+
+
+XV
+
+If shady nooks in Poesy's realm they choose,
+  Or barks to drift the smooth, prosaic stream,
+There Phillis held communion with the Muse,
+  And Chesnutt woke the "Colonel" from his dream!
+Max Barber, Thompson, Knox and Fortune beam;
+  Great Braithwaite scales the classic mountain heights,
+And Cooper, like a beacon light, will gleam;
+  While Dunbar, sun-like, sheds his holy lights
+  In dazzling splendor on his solar satellites!
+
+
+XVI
+
+These brilliant names shall never fade away:
+  Emblazoned in the sacred Hall of Fame,
+They shall remain till dawns that direful Day,
+  The valid seal beneath thy sacred name.
+Deft Tanner, artist, ever blazing flame,
+  With Pickens, Bruce and Locke of classic dell,
+Old Truth and Harper, Yates and Ruffin came,
+  And Walker, Terrell, Williams, known so well
+  Long ere Marie had taught the hoary world to spell!
+
+
+XVII
+
+The learned Scarborough writes the classic Greek;
+  Dean Miller thinks in calculations cold;
+While Cogman writes the annals of the meek,
+  DuBois reveals the secrets of the Soul!
+But all shall read in letters gilded gold:
+  "Who teaches head and heart and hands, has won
+The priceless boon, the guerdon of the goal,
+  The portion due thy most illustrious son,
+  Tuskegee's seer and sage, the noble Washington!"
+
+
+XVIII
+
+Thy songs inspire and cheer the human soul,
+  Still plodding forth in search of Beulah's vale;
+Lead wondering lambs into the Master's fold,
+  When Flora Burgeon's notes far float the gale!
+Though Patti Brown we loud applaud and hail,
+  And Hackley's voice is heard in every land,--
+Black Patti is the queenly nightingale
+  That leads the chorus, as they singing stand
+  As Miriam stood, to sing thee to the "Promised Land!"
+
+
+XIX
+
+I see the Prophet's mandate to the land,
+  In golden letters glit'ring in the sky:
+"Fair Ethiopia shall stretch forth her hand,
+  Her sons shall sway the earth long ere they die!"
+As swift as lightnings with the storm-clouds fly,
+  To light the path celestial feet have trod:
+So be thy soaring to the realms on high,
+  When mortal feet no more shall tread this sod,
+  And thy holy spirit wings its homeward flight to God!
+
+
+
+
+TO J. S. B.
+
+    On seeing her December 25th, 1904, after two years' travel.
+
+
+Take, fair maid, these simple lines
+  From my pen;
+Think of strollings 'neath the pines,
+  Which have been--
+Long and lonesome were the days
+  We were apart,
+But may Love, now, have her sways,--
+  Bind heart to heart!
+O'er main to isle and back to land
+  Have I been;
+Beheld on either hand
+  A maiden queen:
+But none with captivating charms
+  Like thine;
+None to nestle in her arms,
+  Love of mine!
+Charms unto thee God gave
+  To banish strife;
+To glorify and save
+  One sweet life--
+Take this, dear, before we part
+  From this bliss;
+'Tis but love flowing from my heart,
+  Thine to kiss!
+
+
+
+
+THE MAYOR'S RING
+
+
+I hold a token in my hand,
+  A very tiny thing;
+And yet within its golden band
+  A thousand memories cling.
+
+Aye! thrice ten thousand memories cling
+  Of signal victories won,
+Enshrined within this little ring,
+  Reward of duty done.
+
+I ever shall this token prize,
+  And wear it with true grace--
+The tie that binds the kindred ties
+  Of friendship race to race.
+
+And when I soar full through the skies,
+  Yet ever will I cling
+Within the gates of Paradise
+  This sacred little ring!
+
+
+
+
+WHAT'S THE USE?
+
+
+Oh! What is living but moving about,
+Buoyed up with hope and crushed down by doubt?
+What is the draught of breath we harp on as life?
+Naught but a sip of peace, a cup full of strife--
+      What's the use?
+
+What is the place we call our home, "sweet home"?
+Naught but a span of space where one may roam:
+Night's pitchy corner; a hard crust of bread;
+Cot for your feeble limbs, pillow your head--
+      What's the use?
+
+Now, what is loving but acting a fool?
+And what is quitting?--Producing a rule:
+Break short the flight of Dan Cupid's swift dart,
+Aimed at the core of an innocent heart!
+      What's the use?
+
+Say, what is marrying but getting in trouble?
+Trifling 'way joy while your sorrow is double?
+What, then, is your state my friend, after you've wed?
+Naught but a vial of wrath poured upon your head!
+      What's the use?
+
+Ah! what is batching but living a man;
+Sporting and sleeping--just running his plan?
+Come when he's ready, and go when he please--
+Brain's full of joy, his heart is at ease--
+      See, that's the use!
+
+
+
+
+O GOD, WILT THOU HELP ME IN SCHOOL?
+
+
+    On Saturday, March 1, 1902, I left Alcorn and went home in
+    order to earn money enough to defray my expenses for the year
+    1902-03. I began work as soon as I reached home and labored
+    on father's farm until the last week in June, 1902. I had
+    seen by that time that there was nothing to be realized from
+    that source but disheartening failure.
+
+    I then acted as agent for the "Zion Record," published by
+    Rev. R. A. Adams, 39 St. Catherine Street, Natchez, Miss.,
+    until August 20, 1902. Knowing that there was a dormitory to
+    be built for girls at Alcorn, I went there, hoping to get
+    work and to be there when school opened. On arriving, I
+    failed to get employment. I had no money. The Boarding Hall
+    was run by boys who stayed over summer. Finding I was
+    unemployed, they refused to let me take meals with them.
+    There I was--friendless and penniless--without a bite of
+    bread and nowhere to lay my head. To drive the wolf of
+    starvation away and to keep from being devoured, I made
+    arrangements with President Lanier to cut wood for something
+    to eat, until school opened Sept. 2, 1902.
+
+    When school opened, the Faculty met the first day and
+    distributed the positions to the eligibles. On going down to
+    the Hall to take my first meal, to my surprise I found I had
+    been awarded the position of waiter. To hold a position, or
+    even remain on the Campus, one must matriculate within three
+    days after school starts, if there when it opens, or after he
+    arrives, if not. I then wrote home for the matriculation fee
+    ($13), as I had labored there all summer. As that letter was
+    sealed my destiny was sealed in it. It was one that hauled my
+    anchor of hope; yes, one to bring glad tidings of great joy
+    and crowning success, or the gloom of disastrous failure.
+    Thus, having my hope sealed, I wrote across it "In Haste!"
+
+    The night of its return was a dark, rainy one. As all sat
+    discussing different events that had transpired since the new
+    session had begun, suddenly a whistle was heard. How our
+    hearts throbbed with gladness as we exclaimed, "There, that's
+    the mail!" Dear reader, you cannot imagine how overjoyed I
+    was. I knew that bag contained a letter for me; so anxious
+    was I to receive it I did not trust anyone, but rushed to the
+    office, and ere long my name was called.
+
+    I opened it then and there, with an eager look for a green
+    piece of paper styled a "Money Order." I looked, but found it
+    not. All hope vanished; joy faded; and gloom hovered over
+    me--a feeling I never before had, nor since, and I hope never
+    again to have, electrified my body. It was then raining at
+    full headway: the lightnings flashed; the thunders pealed out
+    peal after peal, each succeeding one louder than the first.
+    By this time all had gone to bed but me. I thought thought
+    after thought, prayed prayer after prayer, sent up cry after
+    cry, shed tear after tear. I went to bed, but could not
+    sleep. I then thought of this subject: "O God, Wilt Thou Help
+    Me in School?" After writing it, my feelings were changed,
+    the gloom was dispelled, and 'Smiling Hope' returned with
+    joyous tidings of happiness and a blissful future.
+
+
+O, God to Thee, who knowest all things,
+  To Thee each being his praises brings,
+In heaven, or earth, or sea, or sky--
+  To-night to Thee I raise my cry.
+
+To-night as Thou doth know the why,
+  The why I make each tearful sigh--
+Hast Thou not crowned and blest my way?
+  Why'st Thou forsaken me to-day?
+
+To-night while in my deepest grief,
+  I calmly wait Thy sweet relief;
+Thou knowest I have done my best,
+  Oh, give my pondering soul some rest.
+
+To-night, O God, grant all to know,
+  For man to reap he first must sow;
+To know to have both bread and wine
+  He must reap all at harvest time.
+
+To-night, O God, to Thee I plead,
+  Thou must protect me, guide and lead
+Through this which is my darkest night
+  To a day when Thou shalt give me light.
+
+To-night my soul does bleed with pain,
+  As murky clouds drip down the rain!
+O God, heal me of this heart ache,
+  For thy dear Son Christ Jesus' sake.
+
+To-night me compass grief and fears,
+  To-night while drip heart-broken tears;
+There seems to be no one to save
+  My weeping soul from chilly grave.
+
+To-night as I, Thy servant, pray
+  To Thee, to turn my darkness day,
+And change my many blinding fears
+  To brighter hope for future years.
+
+O restless soul, thou canst not sleep,
+  For, ship-like, thou art tossed the deep;
+Aye, tossed by surge of mighty wave,
+  With none to share and none to save.
+
+O God, in Thee I now believe,
+  Since life in Thee I do receive;
+I pray Thee now with trembling fear
+  To my sad soul draw near, draw near.
+
+O God, Thou knowest this night I dread,
+  As 'twere to number me with the dead--
+I plead to Thee as by a rule,
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+To-night, O God, the darkest gloom
+  Hangs o'er me like a cloud to doom;
+I cry while sitting on this stool--
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+This wide world o'er my mind doth roam,
+  So many miles away from home,
+With thoughts thread-like wound in a spool--
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+Dear Lord, I ask of Thee one boon,
+  Pure as the light of "harvest moon";
+And cry as when bathed in a pool--
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+While time and tide flow o'er my mind,
+  For wisdom, Lord, I ever pine;
+But not in folly of a fool--
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+Oh, may I now look up and smile,
+  As children, mirthful all the while,
+When playing in the shade so cool--
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+When life's long journey nears its end,
+  And friend so dear must part from friend,
+To bathe deep in Thy living pool--
+  O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
+
+Oh days of woe, oh do relent,
+  For all my sins I now repent,
+To bathe in Siloam's ancient pool--
+  O God, right now help me in school.
+
+Ah, when this stormy life is o'er,
+  I'll moor my bark on th' eternal shore;
+Then shall I cross life's mortal pool,
+  And God will then help me in school!
+
+
+
+
+BEHIND THE BARS
+
+
+I am a pilgrim far from home,
+  A wanderer like Mars,
+And thought my wanderings ne'er should come,
+  So fixed behind the bars!
+
+I left my sunny Southern home
+  Beneath the silver stars;
+A northward path began to roam,
+  Not seeking prison bars.
+
+I sought a higher, holier life,
+  Which never virtue mars;
+But Fate had spun a net of strife
+  For me behind the bars!
+
+My mother's lowly thatched-roofed cot
+  My nobler senses jars;
+And so I seek to aid her lot,
+  But not behind the bars!
+
+'Tis said, forsooth, the poet learns
+  Through sufferings and wars
+To sing the song which deepest burns
+  Behind the prison bars!
+
+Thus I resign myself to Fate,
+  Regardless of her scars;
+For soon she'll open wide the gate
+  For me behind the bars.
+
+I plead to you, my fellow man,
+  For all who wear the tars;
+To lend what little help you can
+  To us behind the bars.
+
+O God, I breathe my prayer to Thee,
+  Who never sinner bars:
+Set each immortal spirit free
+  Behind these prison bars!
+
+
+
+
+HARVARD SQUARE
+
+
+'Tis once in life our dreams come true,
+  The myths of long ago,
+Quite real though fairy-like their view,
+  They surge with ebb and flow;
+Thus thou, O haunt of childhood dreams,
+  More beauteous and fair
+Than Nature's landscape and her streams,
+  Historic Harvard Square.
+
+My soul hath panted long for thee,
+  Like as the wounded hart
+That vainly strives himself to free
+  Full from the archer's dart;
+And struggled oft all, all alone
+  With burdens hard to bear,
+But now I stand at Wisdom's throne
+  To-night in Harvard Square.
+
+A night most tranquil,--I was proud
+  My thoughts soared up afar,
+To moonbeams pouring through the cloud,
+  Or some lone twinkling star;
+And musing thus, my quickened pace
+  Beat to the printery's glare,
+Where first I saw a friendly face
+  In classic Harvard Square.
+
+"Ho! stranger, thou art wan and worn
+  Of journey's wear and tear;
+Thy face all haggard and forlorn,
+  Pray tell me whence and where?"
+"I came--from out--the Sunny South--
+  The spot--on earth--most fair,"
+Fell lisping from my trembling mouth--
+  "In search--of--Harvard Square."
+
+"Here rest, my friend, upon this seat,
+  And feel thyself at home;
+I'll bring thee forth some drink and meat,
+  'Twill give thee back thy form."
+And then I prayed the Lord to bless
+  Us, and that little lair--
+Quite sure, I thought, I had found rest
+  Most sweet in Harvard Square.
+
+"I came," I said, "o'er stony ways,
+  Through mountain, hill and dale,
+I've felt old Sol's most scorching rays,
+  And braved the stormy gale;
+I've done this, Printer, not for gold,
+  Nor diamonds rich and rare--
+But for a burning in my soul
+  To learn in Harvard Square.
+
+"I've journeyed long without a drink
+  Nor yet a bite of bread,
+While in this state, O Printer, think--
+  No shelter for my head.
+I mused, 'Hope's yet this side the grave'--
+  My pluck and courage there
+Then made my languid heart bear brave--
+  Each throb for Harvard Square."
+
+A sound soon hushed my heart's rejoice--
+  "The watchman on his search?"
+"No!" rang the printer's gentle voice,
+  "'Deak' Wilson in from church.
+O'er there, good 'Deak'," the printer said,
+  "The wanderer in that chair,
+Hath come to seek the lore deep laid
+  Up here in Harvard Square."
+
+"It matters not how you implore,
+  He can no longer stay;
+But on the night's 'Plutonian shore,'
+  Await the coming day.
+I'm sorry, sir," he calmly said,
+  "Though hard, I guess 'tis fair,
+Thou hast no place to lay thy head--
+  Not yet in Harvard Square!"
+
+"Good night!" he said, and we the same--
+  I sighed, "Where shall I go?"
+He soon returned and with him came
+  An officer and--Oh!
+"Now sir, you take this forlorn tramp
+  With all his shabby ware,
+And guide him safely off the 'Camp'
+  Of dear old Harvard Square."
+
+As soon as locked within the jail,
+  Deep in a ghastly cell,
+Methought I heard the bitter wail
+  Of all the fiends of hell!
+"O God, to Thee I humbly pray
+  No treacherous prison snare
+Shall close my soul within for aye
+  From dear old Harvard Square."
+
+Just then I saw an holy Sprite
+  Shed all her radiant beams,
+And round her shone the source of light
+  Of all the poets' dreams!
+I plied my pen in sober use,
+  And spent each moment spare
+In sweet communion with the Muse
+  I met in Harvard Square!
+
+I cried: "Fair Goddess, hear my tale
+  Of sorrow, grief and pain."
+That made her face an ashen pale,
+  But soon it glowed again!
+"They placed me here; and this my crime,
+  Writ on their pages fair:--
+'He left his sunny native clime,
+  And came to Harvard Square!'"
+
+"Weep not, my son, thy way is hard,
+  Thy weary journey long--
+But thus I choose my favorite bard
+  To sing my sweetest song.
+I'll strike the key-note of my art
+  And guide with tend'rest care,
+And breathe a song into thy heart
+  To honor Harvard Square.
+
+"I called old Homer long ago,
+  And made him beg his bread
+Through seven cities, ye all know,
+  His body fought for, dead.
+Spurn not oppression's blighting sting,
+  Nor scorn thy lowly fare;
+By them I'll teach thy soul to sing
+  The songs of Harvard Square.
+
+"I placed great Dante in exile,
+  And Byron had his turns;
+Then Keats and Shelley smote the while,
+  And my immortal Burns!
+But thee I'll build a sacred shrine,
+  A store of all my ware;
+By them I'll teach thy soul to sing
+  'A place in Harvard Square.'
+
+"To some a store of mystic lore,
+  To some to shine a star:
+The first I gave to Allan Poe,
+  The last to Paul Dunbar.
+Since thou hast waited patient, long,
+  Now by my throne I swear
+To give to thee my sweetest song
+  To sing in Harvard Square."
+
+And when she gave her parting kiss
+  And bade a long farewell,
+I sat serene in perfect bliss
+  As she forsook my cell.
+Upon the altar-fire she poured
+  Some incense very rare;
+Its fragrance sweet my soul assured
+  I'd enter Harvard Square.
+
+Reclining on my couch, I slept
+  A sleep sweet and profound;
+O'er me the blessed angels kept
+  Their vigil close around.
+With dawning's smile, my fondest hope
+  Shone radiant and fair:
+The Justice cut each chain and rope
+  'Tween me and Harvard Square!
+
+          _Cell No. 40, East Cambridge Jail,
+              Cambridge, Mass., July 26, 1910_
+
+
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+Though man through life so swiftly wends,
+  And o'er its journey runs his race;
+Though rough, or smooth, or 'round the bends,
+  In distance putting fleetest friend:
+Alas! there comes a halting place,
+  A place of rest--the journey's end!
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes
+
+Original variations in spelling, hyphenation, and punctuation have
+been retained except for the following three changes:
+
+Page 29: A comma was added after banks for consistency.
+  (From the Gulf and the Lakes to the Oceans' banks,--)
+
+Page 62: Caucasin was changed to Caucasian
+  (statements which place them with the Caucasian race;)
+
+Page 65: Pharaoahs changed to Pharaohs.
+  (Once in great splendor did thy Pharaohs rule)
+
+Page 22: In the line: "There are homes are our natal, and nothing is
+fatal," the first "are" may be a typo for "our." Left unchanged.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sylvan Cabin, by Edward Smyth Jones
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