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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a725639 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51904 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51904) diff --git a/old/51904-0.txt b/old/51904-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 24c8f83..0000000 --- a/old/51904-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1987 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, by Henry Reed Conant - -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/license - - -Title: Poems - -Author: Henry Reed Conant - -Release Date: May 1, 2016 [EBook #51904] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS *** - - - - -Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Charlie Howard, and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net -(This file was produced from images generously made -available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - POEMS - - ----BY---- - - HENRY REED CONANT. - - - “’Tis pleasure, sure, to see one’s name in print: - A book’s a book, although there’s nothing in’t.” - --BYRON. - - - 1893. - THE SUN PUBLISHING CO., - Kaukauna, Wis. - - - - - Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1893 - By HENRY REED CONANT, - In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, - at Washington. - - - - - TO MY BROTHER, - CARLOS EVERETT CONANT, A. B., - NOW PROFESSOR OF LANGUAGES - IN THE - CHADDOCK COLLEGE, ILL., - AND FORMERLY - PROFESSOR IN THE STATE UNIVERSITY, - OF MINNESOTA, - THIS BOOK OF POEMS - IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - Telulah Spring, _Frontispiece_ - - Inscription, 5 - - Introduction, 11 - - Life, 17 - - Dream of a Fairy, 18 - - Together, 20 - - Be Not Discouraged, 21 - - Forest Delights, 22 - - Parting, 23 - - Song, 24 - - God’s Love, 25 - - Dreams, 26 - - Lines on Life, 28 - - Where are the Hearts we Cherished So? 29 - - Contentment, 31 - - The Telulah Spring, 33 - - Daybreak, 36 - - To a Brown Thrush, 37 - - Hope, 38 - - The Angel of Home, 39 - - To My Sister, 40 - - Woman, 40 - - The Fox River, 41 - - A Little Grave, 42 - - Autumn Days, 43 - - In Heaven, 44 - - Idleness, 46 - - The River, 47 - - The Crown of Fame, 49 - - Elegy on the Death of Hon. C. B. Clark, 52 - - A Reverie, 53 - - Opportunity, 56 - - Lines Written on Hearing a Gentleman remark: “God Bless - Dear Woman.” 57 - - My Lady Fair, 58 - - To a Firefly, 59 - - My Old New England Home, 60 - - A Lover’s Lament, 62 - - Faces That are Gone, 63 - - The True Way, 65 - - Pitcher or Jug, 66 - - Two Lives, 67 - - Meditation, 68 - - Tempus Fugit, 70 - - Gladness, 71 - - The Rainbow, 71 - - - MISCELLANEOUS VERSES. - - The Dawn o’ Spring, 75 - - Zeeke Bullard’s Farm, 76 - - Uncle Nick, on Eddication, 80 - - Uncle Nick, on Gossipers, 82 - - The Art o’ Knowin’ How, 84 - - Mother’s Photograph, 86 - - Fifty Years, 88 - - A Maiden Wondrous Fair, 89 - - Wealth and Want, 92 - - Childhood, 93 - - The Lassie O’er the Way, 94 - - - - -INTRODUCTION. - - -Henry Reed Conant was born in Janesville, Wis., on the seventeenth -day of February, 1872. When four years of age he removed to Vermont, -the native state of his parents Henry Clay and Dora Evaline (Reed) -Conant. Henry was educated in the public schools and at the Morrisville -“People’s Academy,” Vermont, and in his fifteenth year returned to the -west. - -He inherited from his New England ancestors a deep love of nature, and -pronounced religious and moral strength, which tinge the whole body -of his rhymes and poems. Like many poets in their juvenile days Mr. -Conant’s first lines were simple and artless, and the world of critics -can hardly assail him for penning his first rhymes in honor of his -“first love,” thus: - - “Of all the lassies in the land - That e’er I chanced to view, - Methinks the fairest one I saw - Had sparkling eyes of blue.” - -His first published poem appeared in a little story paper, February, -1890, at Belvidere, Ills. Nearly all of Mr. Conant’s poems were written -in Wisconsin, his native state. The selected poems forming this volume -reflect the young poet’s individuality to a sensible degree. The trend -of his thoughts and genius is toward the more solemn and religious -aspects of nature, and of human experience. He dwells in the forest’s -shade, on the banks of rivers flowing through lea and woodland, by -the grave of a little child, and wanders back to his old New England -home--to the scenes of his childhood. - -Henry Reed Conant, like many other beginners in the literary arena, -commits his poems to a critical public with the full consciousness -of their poetical deficiencies. Criticism he must await, and gladly -accept as the basis of that future development through which every poet -must pass ere he attain that popular following that is the reward not -only of genius, but of bitter disappointments. - - A. K. G. - - Appleton, Wis., Nov. 22, 1893. - - - - - We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; - In feelings, not in figures on a dial. - We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives - Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best. - --_Bailey._ - - - - -POEMS. - - - - -_LIFE._ - - - Life is a race in which all compete, - Hastening onward with restless feet, - Eagerly striving for some great prize - That out in the hidden future lies: - The sturdy youth with visions bright, - The stalwart form of manhood’s might, - And tottering age, are borne along - In the mighty rush of the endless throng. - Like the waves of the sea that forever roll - ’Tis a livelong race to an unseen goal; - But the prize is gained at the end of the strife, - For it lies just beyond this earthly life, - Where fears, tribulations and trials cease, - In the golden realms of eternal peace. - - - - -_DREAM OF A FAIRY._ - - - When all the air was filled with song - At morning’s early beam, - In musing mood I strolled along - Beside a placid stream. - - And as I roved the meadow sweet, - What bade my heart rejoice? - Was it the daisies at my feet? - Nay, nor the songster’s voice. - - For glancing toward the crystal stream - I spied a little child, - Upon whose brow the morning beam, - With all its beauty smiled: - - And on her cheek, so wondrous fair, - I saw the ruddy glow,-- - Beheld her locks of flaxen hair - Wave gently to and fro. - - Then with delight I nearer drew, - But lo! here ends my theme; - I waked--the fairy fled my view-- - ’Twas but a happy dream. - -[Illustration] - - - - -_TOGETHER._ - - - ’Neath an aged elm sat a loving pair, - A long, long time ago-- - A youthful man and a maiden fair, - With faces all aglow: - The birds’ sweet notes in the boughs above - And the balm of the sweet June weather - Seemed to say, “’Tis the time for love,” - As they chatted and laughed together. - - The years flew by--an aged pair, - Sat by an old hearth-stone, - With furrowed brows and hoary hair, - Talking in feeble tone - Of the happy days they used to know, - When, in the gladsome weather, - They wandered merrily to and fro, - Talking of love together. - - And now the grass grows green on a pair - Of graves, made side by side; - Two hearts are lying in silence there, - That once beat with joy and pride. - They shared life’s triumphs, life’s defeats, - Thro’ fair and stormy weather, - And now they walk the golden streets - Of Paradise--together. - - - - -_BE NOT DISCOURAGED._ - - When the clouds hang darkly o’er thee, - Be thou not discouraged: - When the world looks drear before thee, - Be thou not discouraged: - Let thy heart be light and gay; - Soon the clouds will pass away: - ’Tis darkest just before the day; - Be thou not discouraged. - - - - -_FOREST DELIGHTS._ - - - I love to stroll amid the silent wood - Where naught is found to break the quietude, - Except the woodland tenants, or the breeze - Among the tender ferns and tow’ring trees. - - Here sports the timid hare in wanton glee, - While may be heard from yonder chestnut tree - The squirrel chirping to its mate near by, - Which gaily answers with a prompt reply. - - Here many a brooklet ripples on its way, - Here countless birds employ their sweetest lay, - And here and there the startled otter springs, - While oft a partridge hies on whirring wings. - - What are the palaces of kings and lords - Compared with all that nature here affords? - These forest charms are dearer to my heart - Than all the pomp of royalty and art. - - - - -_PARTING._ - - - The deepest sorrow fills the heart - To see our loved ones perish; - But soon or late we all must part - With those we fondly cherish. - - The tie must break with friend and friend: - The true and noble-hearted - Must one day reach their journey’s end, - To join the dear departed. - - Why mourn we, then, for those who cross - The intervening river? - Although to us a heavy loss, - To them is joy forever. - - - - -_SONG._ - - - Not always the prettiest flowers - Fill the air with the sweetest perfume; - And not always the sweetest singer - Is the bird with the fairest plume. - - But the sweetness surpassing all other, - And the richest and tenderest strain, - Rise out of the bosom that knoweth - The feelings of love and pain. - - - - -_GOD’S LOVE._ - - - I know where’er my feet may be, - Tho’ prone to stray, - His watchful eye is over me - Both night and day. - - And tho’ ofttimes this heart has erred - ’Mid worldly cares, - I know His pard’ning ear has heard - My humble prayers. - - At all times, e’en when I have failed - To do His will, - His love has in my heart prevailed-- - And guides me still. - - - - -_DREAMS._ - - - What cloudless scenes of wonder and delight - Come to us in the silent realms of night; - Loved ones we meet, that long have been at rest, - We grasp their hands and clasp them to our breast, - Talk with them of the happy days gone by, - With not a pang of sorrow nor a sigh: - And everything around looks wondrous fair, - Sweet flowers of richest hue bloom here and there; - On either hand we see unnumbered throngs - Of white-robed angels, wafting joyful songs: - And seeing thus, continued glories rise.-- - Our souls are ’rapt in endless Paradise. - But mingled voices touch the sleeper’s ear. - And lo! how swift the bright scenes disappear! - The morning light beams through the window pane-- - The dream has fled and day returned again. - - - - -_LINES ON LIFE._ - - - With all the cares and toils that here abound, - And e’en deep seas of grief which men must ford-- - To him whose guardian is th’ Omnipotent, - Life is a source of everlasting joy! - - This world at most is but an anteroom, - Where souls prepare to take their joyous flight - To Heaven’s eternal mansions. Thus the while - We here remain, is it not meet that we - Should wear the garb of truth and righteousness? - - - - -_WHERE ARE THE HEARTS WE CHERISHED SO?_ - - - Where are the hearts we cherished so, - Who’ve left this earthly main, - And gone from kindred circles dear, - Ne’er to return again? - Where gone those aged silvery locks? - That sturdy youthful brow? - Alas! no sound comes from the grave, - Where they’re reposing now! - - When troubles here our paths beset. - When cares and woes assail, - We often think of those at rest - Within that happy Vale; - And tho’ we cannot wish them back - In this sad world of pain-- - O! how we long to catch a glimpse - Of their dear forms again! - - But just beyond the stream which glides - Between that Land and ours-- - Where fairer fields are all adorned - With never-fading flow’rs, - And brighter suns forever shine - Throughout the golden spheres, - We’ll dwell with those who’ve left us here, - Through never-ending years. - -[Illustration] - - - - -_CONTENTMENT._ - - - The isle of contentment we view from afar, - And it dazzles our eyes like a beautiful star; - A region which thousands gaze wistfully at, - And would dwell there, if ’twasn’t for this or for that. - - The lord in his palace, the cotter obscure, - The high and the lowly, the rich and the poor, - Are all discontented whate’er be the case, - Because they are not in some other man’s place. - - In youth, how we long for mature years of men; - In age, how we sigh for our childhood again; - Wherever our station, whate’er be our lot, - We miss countless blessings for joys we have not. - - Thus, ever thro’ life, from our earliest prime, - We look and we long for some happier clime, - Until the bright portals of Paradise ope, - And we soar away home on the pinions of hope. - - - - -_THE TELULAH SPRING._ - - A living spring of cool, clear water, on the banks of the Fox - River, Appleton, Wis.: said to have been first discovered - by, and named after, a beautiful Indian girl by the name of - “TELULAH” who, many years ago, lived near the spot. - - - I’ve heard it told, that many years ago, - When here deep groves stood in their majesty, - Ere they had felt the white man’s fatal stroke, - And peace and happiness breathed over all,-- - That near this spring an Indian maiden dwelt. - Most beautiful was she, so runs the tale, - With tresses like the darkest raven’s coat, - And eyes to match their hue. Her lips, ’tis said, - Surpassed the reddest berries on the hill; - And the bright glow which rested on her cheek - Was like the morning beam, or like the rays - Of eve, that ling’ring, paint the western sky. - Such was the one, ’tis said, who first beheld - This living stream of water, cool and clear, - Uprising from the bosom of the earth. - Here many a traveler on his weary way - ’Mid summer’s heat, retires to cool his brow, - And freely drink the ever crystal tide. - And men oppressed with city care and strife, - Stroll hither when the toils of day are o’er; - Or when the weary week draws to a close, - Upon that day when all men cease their toils, - Approach this calm retreat to meditate - On nature’s wonders and the Mighty One - By Whom all things were formed and still exist. - And happy lovers strolling hand in hand - Amid these pleasant bowers, pause to behold - This sparkling fount forever gushing forth, - And linger ’round this scene of beauty, which - Still bears the name of that sweet Indian girl. - - - - -_DAYBREAK._ - - - We behold the bright joys of another day’s dawn, - As time swiftly flies “like a bird on the wing;” - Let’s improve every moment, now, ere it has gone, - For no one can tell what the next one may bring. - - Our hopes of the future we never may see; - Our days that are past we can never redeem; - But to-day every heart, love and joy may impart, - Which surpasses the sun’s most radiant beam. - - - - -_TO A BROWN THRUSH_, - -On finding its nest and young. - - - O little thrush, what gives thee such alarm? - Pray fear thee not, nor think that I am come - To injure or disturb thy happy home; - Thy little ones so sweet I ne’er would harm. - Thy love, like all true parents’ love, is strong-- - At all times anxious for thy young so dear; - But put away now ev’ry needless fear, - And once again resume thy happy song. - Sweet bird, I wish thee never-ceasing cheer! - Who, with devoted love and tender care, - Look’st on thy nestlings now so young and fair. - May never cruel enemy come near, - Led by blood-thirsty instincts, to destroy - Thy little home--now filled with peace and joy. - - - - -_HOPE._ - - - Ne’er lose thy courage, tho’ dark seems the strife; - The blackest night dies with the golden dawn: - Let not thy hope cease while there still is life, - For Hope is what the world is living on! - - - - -_THE ANGEL OF HOME._ - - - What visions of happiness often steal o’er me, - As back to my childhood in fancy I roam; - And the picture that mem’ry paints brightest before me, - Is mother, dear mother,--the angel of home. - - No love’s like a mother’s, so true and so tender, - No love’s so enduring ’neath heaven’s broad dome; - And not all earth’s wealth with its pomp and its splendor, - Could steal my affection from mother and home. - - - - -_TO MY SISTER._ - - - May still thy deeds of innocence, - Like stars of heaven, shine; - And thou retain thy purity, - Till Heaven itself is thine! - - - - -_WOMAN._ - - - The fairest flower that all our path adorns, - The loveliest rose amidst the cruel thorns, - The brightest star that shines in man’s abode, - The sweetest gift that Heaven e’er bestowed! - - - - -_THE FOX RIVER._ - - - O beautiful river, - How gently among - The fields and the forests - Thou glidest along! - - ’Mid thy pleasant valleys - And cool shady bow’rs, - Grow tall fragrant grasses - And bright blooming flow’rs. - - By day o’er thy waters - The sun beameth bright, - And stars ever twinkle - Above thee by night. - - And never complaining - Thou flowest along - ’Mid nature’s wide province - With laughter and song: - - Content with thy mission - In nature’s great plan; - And such is thy lesson - Thou teachest to man. - - - - -_A LITTLE GRAVE._ - - - Sweetly sing, ye little songsters; - Smile, ye happy skies; - Softly blow, ye wanton breezes-- - Here an infant lies! - - Brightly bloom, ye tinted flowers, - Wafting sweet perfume; - Gently fall, ye summer showers, - On this little tomb. - - - - -AUTUMN DAYS. - - - The summer joys are fleeting fast - From forest, field and glen, - And soon shall winter’s piercing blast - Sweep o’er the earth again. - - How lovely were the bright spring flow’rs, - That decked the landscape o’er; - But now we see, on fields and bow’rs, - Their dainty forms no more. - - The leaves are falling in the wind, - From many a lofty height, - And birds are calling to their kind, - Upon their farewell flight. - - But still, how cheering is the thought, - When other joys have flown; - That the little snow-bird leaves us not, - But chirps till winter’s gone. - - - - -_IN HEAVEN._ - - - One pleasant day in June a little thrush - Lit on a bough close by my window pane, - And as the streams from living fountains gush, - Poured forth its sweetest strain. - - My heart then felt released from every care, - And seemed to rise toward Heaven’s enchanted zone, - When soon the music ceased, and looking there, - I saw the bird had flown. - - And then the thought came to me of the one - Who left me when so youthful and so fair, - Who in the light of Heaven’s unsetting sun - Lives with the angels there. - - I little thought, ere those sweet smiles were gone, - That she so soon must heed the angel’s call; - But all the way He led her safely on - Who marks the sparrow’s fall. - - And some day, when life’s billows cease to roar, - And here no more my weary feet shall roam, - Our souls shall be conjoined forevermore - In Heaven’s eternal home. - - - - -_IDLENESS._ - - - Make some good use of ev’ry space of time, - In idleness are sown the seeds of crime; - Man’s erring mind, allured by passions strong, - Begins pursuing here the path of wrong; - And heedless of the peril just ahead, - Step after step proceeds with fearless tread, - Till ruin comes with overwhelming power-- - The bitter fate of many an idle hour! - - - - -_THE RIVER._ - - - Out from the shady woodland, - With song and laughter free; - Down from the sunny hillside, - And over the flow’ry lea, - Floweth the restless river, - On its journey to the sea. - - Over the silvery pebbles, - Sparkling like morning dew, - Whether in light or darkness, - Doth ever its course pursue, - Till it gains the mighty ocean - With waters vast and blue. - - And thus are WE traveling onward,-- - ’Tis Hope by which we’re borne, - And our hearts beat with triumphant gladness, - As we dream of some brighter dawn - With sights that are nobler and grander, - And we journey on and on. - - And up from the earth’s dark bosom, - Like the homeward flight of a dove, - On Hope’s majestic pinions - We soar to the realms above, - To lave forever and ever, - In the sea of Eternal Love. - -[Illustration] - - - - -_THE CROWN OF FAME._ - - - What toils and hardships oft confront man’s sight, - When first ascending fame’s immortal height: - What cares, vexations, worriments prevail, - What deep-laid plans, repeated efforts, fail; - Yet who would dwell in hermit den, obscure, - To shun the toils that hero-gods endure! - Bestir thyself, O man, for soon--too soon, - As youth recedes, shall fade life’s golden noon! - If thou wouldst make thyself undying name, - Direct thy efforts to one worthy aim; - Let each exertion then be wrought with zeal, - Nor faint if woe come where thou look’st for weal; - But toil thou on, nor fear the world’s dark frown, - Till firm upon the summit of renown. - Whatever good, perchance, thy toils, may greet, - Lose not thyself in folly’s vain conceit: - False pride to lowest degradation tends-- - It leads to vice and vice to crime descends; - As tiny rills, that from the mountain flow, - Pursue their course to larger streams below, - Till seas are joined where mighty billows roll, - So pride goes onward till it wrecks the soul; - Thus by degrees the downward course begins, - And greatest evils rise from little sins. - Nor seek thy fame ’mid pompous scenes of art, - Where vice and folly oft inure the heart: - ’Tis Right eternal kindles honor’s flame, - And crowns Man’s efforts with immortal Fame. - -[Illustration] - - - - -_ELEGY_, - - On the death of Hon. C. B. Clark, member of Congress from 1887 - to 1891, for Wisconsin district No. 6, (now No. 8.) Died Sept. - 10th, 1891. - - - Well may the throngs in countless numbers weep, - Bereft of such a great and noble man, - For brilliant was the course of life he ran, - But now he lies in everlasting sleep. - - He lived a life exempt from selfish pride; - He never turned a stranger from his door; - He ne’er refused to aid the needful poor; - He proved to youth a never-failing guide. - - Alas! we mourn, with aching in our breast - And eyelids moistened with the burning tear, - The loss of one, so generous and sincere, - Now silent in his sweet and peaceful rest. - - - - -_A REVERIE._ - - - O glad shall I be when the winter is ended, - When the wild sweeping blasts of the season are gone, - When the last flakes of snow to the ground have descended, - And the drifts have all vanished from meadow and lawn. - - O glad shall I be when these cold days are over, - And the bright joys of summer are with us again; - When the meadows are blooming with sweet-scented clover, - And the warm sun is smiling on new fields of grain. - - O glad shall I be, when as free as the air - The birds are all singing their merriest lay, - To remind me of days when I knew naught of care, - And the seasons all seemed like a long summer day. - - O spring! merry spring! with thy fragrance of flowers, - To thee from my sorrows I longingly turn;-- - I’ll forget the drear scenes of these long winter hours, - And dream of thy blessings and happy return. - -[Illustration] - - - - -_OPPORTUNITY._ - - - Time is ever swiftly fleeting, - Unimproved by scores of men; - Opportunities are passing - That we’ll never have again; - Many things we may accomplish, - As the hours go speeding on, - If we but improve each moment, - Ere the precious time is gone. - - There are many hearts about us, - That a loving word might cheer; - There are many dear ones with us, - That ere long may not be here: - Let us then be wise and thoughtful, - As our course we journey on, - Striving for the good of others - Ere the precious time is gone. - - - - -_LINES_ - - Written on hearing a gentleman remark: “God bless dear woman.” - - - “God bless dear woman!” did I hear you say? - Full many a man might wisely thus remark! - How oft her smiles have cheered man’s troubled way, - And comfort brought when fortune’s sky was dark-- - The vine that clings unto the oak, whose bark - Is coarse and rough and void of pleasing grace; - And like a dove within the cheerless Ark, - Mid life’s drear scenes we see her sweetly face, - And in God’s best design, there love and beauty trace! - - - - -_MY LADY FAIR._ - - - When aged winter, fierce and grim, - Had ceased his surly reign, - And virgin spring again adorned - The forest, field and plain; - One morning when the sun was bright - And music filled the air, - I wandered o’er the meadow sweet - Beside my lady fair! - - We strolled along ’mid blooming flow’rs, - Till ’neath a spreading tree, - We sat where swift the raptured hours - Flew o’er my love and me; - And when at last time bade us part, - I kissed those lips so sweet, - And little dreamed but we should still - Oft thus together meet. - - But us the stars of heav’n depart, - When dawn her glory brings, - One morn the angels bore her off - Upon their snowy wings! - Yet, in the golden realms above, - I trust some day to see, - With endless joy, the one who made - This earth a Heaven to me! - - - - -_TO A FIRE-FLY._ - - - Blithesome insect, gently flying - Thro’ the shades of night, - As we see thy rays of brightness, - May our hopes be bright; - And tho’ with life’s cares encompass’d, - May our hearts be light. - - - - -_MY OLD NEW ENGLAND HOME._ - - - When the stars above, in gladness, - Twinkle thro’ the evening gloam, - With a mingled joy and sadness, - Often do my fancies roam - Backward to the vanished pleasures - Of my old New England home. - - In that home I see my mother-- - Of all earthly friends the best-- - At her side my younger brother, - With his youthful pleasures blest; - And my little brown-eyed sister, - Sleeping on her mother’s breast. - - And within that sacred dwelling - Father’s cheerful face I see, - And I hear him kindly telling - Us to ever loyal be;-- - On the battle-field he perished, - When they made our country free. - - When he went away, our mother - Safely led our little band, - And she taught us of another - Loving Father, whose strong hand, - Never would forsake his children, - If they heeded His command: - - Taught us, in our youth and beauty, - Ne’er to turn our feet aside - From the paths of truth and duty, - Whatsoever might betide; - But to keep the path of wisdom, - And obey our Heavenly guide. - - Back to home and all its pleasures - Often do my fancies roam, - And to me, the richest treasures - Under heaven’s starry dome, - Were the blessings of my childhood, - In that old New England home. - - - - -_A LOVER’S LAMENT._ - - - As lillies, arrayed in their loveliness, fade, - So faded my fairest--my love: - My joys have all fled, for my darling is dead-- - O Stella! My dearest, my dove! - - The loveliest flowers, in this sad world of ours, - Are soonest from us to depart-- - Are first to decay; and thus faded away - The tenderest joy of my heart. - - My hopes, once so bright, have all taken their flight, - For gone is my beautiful dove: - I’m weary with grief, and shall ne’er find relief, - Till I rest with my darling above. - - - - -_FACES THAT ARE GONE._ - - - How we long to see the faces - That have crossed the silent tide-- - Faces marked with care and sorrow, - Faces full of joy and pride; - Some with furrowed brow and hoary, - Some in youth’s lamented bloom;-- - One by one from us departed, - For the cold and silent tomb. - - Birds employ their notes of gladness - As they flutter to and fro, - Flow’rs display their wealth of beauty, - As they used to long ago; - But the birds may sing forever, - And the flow’rs forever bloom; - They can ne’er bring back the faces - That are hidden in the tomb! - - Silently death steals upon us, - Silently time speedeth on-- - Soon we, too, shall all be numbered, - With the faces that are gone; - Each and all must shortly follow - Thro’ the shadows and the gloom, - To the loved ones who are waiting - In the light beyond the tomb. - - - - -_THE TRUE WAY._ - - - We know that we’re stubborn and willful, - And tho’ we have kindly been shown - The true way, which God has appointed, - We often go on in our own. - - And thus we go on in the darkness, - Groping our way thro’ the night; - Unmindful ofttimes of His goodness, - And missing His glorious light. - - But still He looks down with compassion, - And e’en thro’ life’s greatest alarms - We’re sheltered and safely protected, - As weak little lambs in His arms. - - Could we but have more of His goodness - Implanted each day in our heart, - Perhaps there are others about us - Who’d feel the rich joy we’d impart. - - Could our love, every day, be to others - As the love from our Maker above, - O what a grand army of brothers - Would be banded together in love! - - - - -_PITCHER OR JUG._ - - - Which brings poverty and woe, - Which makes useless tears to flow, - Which brings scorn where’er we go, - Pitcher or jug? - - Which fades beauty, health and bloom, - Which turns happiness to gloom, - Which leads to the drunkard’s tomb, - Pitcher or jug? - - - - -_TWO LIVES._ - - - They started out together - Amid the worldly din; - One yielded to temptation, - And lived a life of sin: - They found his lifeless body - One pleasant summer dawn, - All mangled in the gutter-- - A wretched life was gone. - - The other trod the pathway - Of righteousness and truth, - And kept his soul as spotless - As in his early youth; - And when his voyage was ended, - On Heaven’s blissful shore - He joined the great reunion, - Where parting is no more. - - - - -_MEDITATION._ - - - ’Mid scenes of mystery life’s tide rolls onward; - And tho’ some, delving deep in caves of knowledge, - Have revealed wondrous facts, this life, concerning, - Still blind they are to most of life’s great features; - How powerless to perceive the future’s movements, - Or e’en explain the present things about them! - We little more than know that we’re existing, - ’Mid scenes that time and tide are changing ever. - _Hope_ is a star that lures men ever onward, - Oft seeming near and yet forever distant; - _Contentment_ is an isle where man, if ever, - Has seldom dwelt amid the scenes enchanting; - _Love_ is a dew-drop on the rose-bush glowing, - Soon to depart as e’en the bush must perish: - All things of earth are like the fleeting shadows - Except the love of Him whose power and wisdom - Exceeds, by far, man’s deepest understanding, - And He, who clothes the lillies in their beauty, - Who feeds his flocks and marks the falling sparrow, - Will shield His children from life’s raging tempests, - And lead them safe through waters of affliction - Until, at last, beyond the vales and shadows, - Their eyes behold that Land of endless beauty. - - - - -_TEMPUS FUGIT._ - - - Men sleep, but time speeds on; - The sun comes out at dawn - O’er hill and town, - At eve goes down, - But ever time speeds on. - - Men die--the world moves on, - And when our forms are gone, - New hearts arise, - To seek earth’s prize; - And thus the world moves on. - - - - -_GLADNESS._ - - - Let thy heart, attuned to gladness, - Every fear and doubt dispel-- - Banish idle thoughts of sadness, - Then shall joy thy bosom swell. - - - - -_THE RAINBOW._ - - - Howe’er dark the clouds may hover - O’er thy pathway, ne’er repine; - Mark thou, when the storm is over, - In the heaven that beautious line! - - - - -[Illustration] - -MISCELLANEOUS VERSES. - -[Illustration] - - - - -NOTE. - - -My first intention was to omit the following pieces from this -publication, but on recommendation of several readers I have finally -decided to place them in a seperate department; expecting in either -case--whether included in this book or omitted--that the youthful -aspirant, in this attempt to flutter out into the literary sphere, will -fall headlong and be left only to dream of those glorious heights where -others triumphantly soar amid the silvery clouds of fancy. - - H. R. C. - - - - -_THE DAWN O’ SPRING._ - - - Yes, boys, I’m waitin’ patiently to see the dawn o’ spring-- - To see the flowers in blossom an’ to hear the robins sing; - An’ to see the trees an’ meadows clad in garbs o’ livin’ green; - An’ to hear the merry music o’ the brook thet flows between. - - It makes me fairly home-sick sech cold wintry days ez these, - The snow a driftin’ everywhere an’ layin’ in the trees; - An’ when Jack Frost steals ’round et night an’ frescoes everything, - It makes me hanker more an’ more to see the dawn o’ spring. - - Fer I know when spring comes ’round ag’in with all her sweet perfume; - Her reses all in blossom an’ her orchards all a-bloom, - An’ robins singin’ gaily--I’ll be happy ez a king; - Thet’s why I’m waitin’ patiently to see the dawn o’ spring. - - - - -_ZEEKE BULLARD’S FARM._ - - - Zeeke Bullard wuz a farmer of no great amount of worth, - Tho’ his farm wuz well supplied with miles of rich, productive earth; - Fer he owned three hundred acres, so his frien’s an’ neighbors sed, - But he uster say thet money wuz a thing he never hed. - - He’d groan about his losses, an’ his scarcity of tin, - An’ he of’en sed he wondered w’y his crops were all so thin; - He’d set aroun’ frum morn till night till days an’ weeks ’ud pass, - An’ talk about the way he’d lose his grain an’ garden sass. - - The ’tater bugs in multitudes ’ud come frum all aroun’, - Till nothin’ in his Murphy patch wuz left abuv the groun’; - Insects of all descriptions thronged aroun’ his garden beds, - While worms with powerful appetites devoured his cabbage heads. - - The crows ’ud come day after day to steal his yaller corn, - An’ dine on oats an’ barley till his fiel’s were nearly shorn, - An’ acre after acre where his clover oughter grow, - There wa’n’t but giant thistles pintin’ daggers high an’ low. - - An’ when his crops were harvested by bugs an’ worms an’ crows, - An’ wintry blasts were comin’ on, his sons were void of clo’es; - In spite of all the mendin’ thet his little wife could do, - The toes an’ knees an’ elbows of his boys were peekin’ thro’. - - * * * * * - - A while ago I left thet place of farmin’ enterprise, - An’ now my folks are livin’ ’neath the broad, blue western skies, - An’ tho’ I ain’t a farmer I’m convinced there’s nothin’ made, - Unless you work et farmin’, same ez any other trade. - - Weeds don’t need cultervatin’, but they grow up tall an’ stout, - An’ you mus’ work to save the grain an keep the thistles out: - You can’t loaf ’round frum morn till night an’ talk the hull day thro’, - For yer crops’ll go to ruin jest ez surely ez you do. - - * * * * * - - I’ve jest received a letter frum an ol’-time friend of mine, - Who sed poor Zeeke wuz dwellin’ where bright crowns of glory shine; - He’d quit the farmin’ business an’ wuz free frum worl’ly harm, - While his seven sons were lef’ to raise the mortgage on his farm. - - - - -_UNCLE NICK, ON EDDICATION._ - - - While ’tendin’ skool I uster be fust class et playin’ ball, - Et playin’ tag er leap-frog I wuz formost of ’em all; - Sech sportin’ allus hed fer me a wondrous fascination, - An’ so I spent more time et this than on my eddication. - - I of’en git to thinkin’ what fine chances I hed then - To git an’ eddication, but of course it’s useless when - The opportunity is passed to mourn yer situation-- - It’s pooty hard when you are ol’ to git an eddication. - - Now boys I’m ’fraid thet some o’ you are growin’ up this way, - I’m ’fraid fer learnin’ some o’ you are substertootin’ play, - I’m ’fraid there’s boys a-livin’ in this present gineration, - Who’ll wish some day they’d seen less play an’ more o’ eddication. - - You can’t keep waitin’, thinkin’ thet you’ve got a lot o’ time,-- - The time to git yer schoolin’, boys, is while you’re in yer prime; - When you are ol’ you’ll see enough o’ care an’ tribulation, - Without the thought thet carelessly you missed an eddication. - - - - -_UNCLE NICK, ON GOSSIPERS._ - - - When people git to gossipin’ sometimes they’ll set an’ talk - Fer hours an’ hours together, jest ez reg’ler ez a clock; - I s’pose they think folks love to hear their never-endin’ yop,-- - But when Samantha’s talked a while she knows enough to stop. - - When Mrs. Jones wuz tellin’ et our place the other day, - Thet Mrs. Williams told her thet her neighbor, Mrs. Gray, - Sed she never saw so big a story-teller’s Widder Heath-- - Samantha set there quiet, with her tongue between her teeth. - - She ain’t ferever slingin’ out sech everlastin’ gab:-- - She of’en sez “it’s bad enough to hear the neighbors blab;” - But she jest stays et home instid an’ ’tends to fam’ly cares, - An’ never tells the neighborhood about her home affairs. - - We don’t take any papers, but with news we’re well supplied; - Fer the neighbors tell us every birth an’ death an’ suicide: - When Mrs. Jones comes up our walk a-squeakin’ them new shoes, - Sometimes Samantha’ll say to me, “here comes the daily news.” - - - - -_THE ART O’ KNOWIN’ HOW._ - - - It’s hard to write a decent song, tho’ maybe you deny it, - Most any job looks easy you’ll allow; - But if you’re inexperienced perhaps you’d better try it, - An’ you’ll find the nickromancy’s in the art o’ knowin’ how. - - There’s lots o’ things you’ve never done that looks all killin’ easy-- - Did you ever try to milk a kickin’ cow? - If not, just try yer hand fer fun, to satisfy and please ye, - An’ you’ll find the nickromancy’s in the art o’ knowin’ how. - - Whatever yer profession, you’ll discover soon or late, - As you stop to wipe the sweat from off yer brow, - That to preach a decent sermon er to draw a furrow straight, - The nickromancy lies within the art o’ knowin’ how. - - So be sure thet you’re adapted to the work thet you profess, - Teachin’ gospel truths er hangin’ on the plow, - Then buckle down to business, an’ yer can’t escape success, - Fer you’ll find the nickromancy’s in the art o’ knowin’ how. - - - - -_MOTHER’S PHOTOGRAPH._ - - - D’you wish to know what came to me from good ol’ Santa Claus? - ’Twuz not a lot o’ nigger-toes to crack between yer jaws, - Nor candy nor a jumpin’-jack fer makin’ youngsters laugh-- - But the present thet he give to me wuz mother’s photograph. - - Some how a cur’ous feelin’ seems to steal acrost my mind, - Ez I look back to boyish days an’ think how good an’ kind - Thet mother’s been in teachin’ me to shun the evil ways, - An’ how attentive she hez been, e’en from my infant days. - - An’ when I think how many years she’s toiled thro’ shine and rain, - An’ how she’s allus been on hand to soothe my every pain, - It seems ez ef to do my best thet I could never be - Half good an’ kind enough to pay fer all she’s done fer me. - - Perhaps you think it’s silly, but it’s jest ez I hev sed, - Thet all the other presents ol’ St. Nicholas ever hed, - Compared with that he give to me w’ud be but worthless chaff, - Nor comfort me one half ez much ez mother’s photograph. - - - - -_FIFTY YEARS._ - - - Two score and ten summers have glided away, - As time speeds relentlessly on; - And our thoughts wander back, as we sit here to-day, - O’er the past that has faded and gone. - - Many dear ones have gone to their rest in the grave, - Young hearts have departed from play; - Still others have gone, their dear country to save, - And fall’n ’mid the wild battle’s fray. - - Many dear to our hearts are now far in the west, - While few near the old home remain; - And though often lonely, we’ve been greatly blest,-- - Our labors have not been in vain. - - ’Tis fifty long years since the day which we set, - Our sorrows and pleasures to share; - That bright, happy day we ne’er shall forget, - When life looked so joyous and fair! - - - - -_A MAIDEN WONDROUS FAIR._ - - - Within a certain town there dwelt - A maiden wondrous fair, - Whose cheeks were like the rose’s hue - And golden was her hair. - - Her eyes were like the twinkling stars, - Her teeth were like the pearl; - And sons of both the rich and poor, - Admired this charming girl. - - Two constant beaus this maiden had, - And each one swore that she, - Ere many months had passed away, - His own dear wife would be. - - But soon an incident occurred - Which all their plans upset, - When at the maiden’s gate one eve - Her two admirers met. - - Hard words arose between the two, - As oft there had before; - And that the maid should be his wife - Still each persistent swore. - - The longer thus they did contend, - The more their wrath did rise; - Until at last they came to blows - O’er who should have the prize. - - While thus engaged, a prim young man - With unpretentious mien - Approached, just as the maid herself - Appeared upon the scene. - - Then soon the angry blows were ceased - And quietude restored; - And each apologized to her - Whom he so much adored. - - Then bowing low, each went his way; - Quite black and swollen-eyed; - While she whom they had fought to win - Became the third man’s bride. - - - - -_WEALTH AND WANT._ - - - How often the poor are despised and neglected, - For no other reason except they are poor; - How often the rich are beloved and respected, - Because they have uncounted wealth at their door. - - There’s many an honest and virtuous heart, - To-day within poverty’s prison enchained; - While thousands reside amid pleasures of art, - Whose wealth was thro’ vice and dishonesty gained. - - Despise not the needy because they are poor, - Nor envy the wealthy because of their gold; - Good or ill fortune may stand at our door, - But true hearts are not to be purchased or sold. - - - - -_CHILDHOOD._ - - - We long for those days, once so joyous, - For that unbounded freedom, again, - When there were no cares to annoy us, - And life knew no sorrow nor pain; - But those sweet days of childhood have vanished, - And we long for them only in vain. - - Tho’ time has wrought changes unnumbered - Since those happy seasons were pass’d, - And now with life’s cares we’re encumbered, - Still backward fond visions we’ll cast; - And we’ll think of our childhood with pleasure - As long as our memories last. - - - - -_THE LASSIE O’ER THE WAY._ - - - A sweet little lassie - Lives over the way: - She’s pretty and modest, - Yet blithesome and gay. - - So perfect her manners, - So graceful her mien; - O who would not worship - This fair little queen! - - Is there a young laddie - Whose heart would not beat - For those smiles so angelic - And dimples so sweet: - - Those blue eyes a-sparkling, - That bright golden hair! - O where’s the young lassie - More charming and fair! - - She’s modest and gentle, - Yet cheerful and gay; - This sweet little lassie, - Just over the way. - - - - -Transcriber’s Note - - -Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a -predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not -changed. - -Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced -quotation marks retained. - -All of the illustrations are the same simple decoration. - -“Telulah Spring”, listed as the Frontispiece in the Contents, was -missing from the original book. - -“Note” at beginning of “Miscellaneous Verses”: “seperate” was printed -that way. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, by Henry Reed Conant - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS *** - -***** This file should be named 51904-0.txt or 51904-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/9/0/51904/ - -Produced by Larry B. 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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/license - - -Title: Poems - -Author: Henry Reed Conant - -Release Date: May 1, 2016 [EBook #51904] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS *** - - - - -Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Charlie Howard, and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net -(This file was produced from images generously made -available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<h1>POEMS</h1> - -<p class="p2 center smaller">——BY——</p> - -<p class="p2 center large">HENRY REED CONANT.</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“’Tis pleasure, sure, to see one’s name in print:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A book’s a book, although there’s nothing in’t.”<br /></span> -</div> -<div class="attrib">—<span class="smcap">Byron.</span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="p2 center"> -1893.<br /> -<span class="smcap">The Sun Publishing Co.</span>,<br /> -Kaukauna, Wis. -</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="newpage p4 center vspace"> -Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1893<br /> -By <span class="smcap">Henry Reed Conant</span>,<br /> -In the Office of the Librarian of Congress,<br /> -at Washington. -</p> - -<hr /> - -<p id="INSCRIPTION" class="newpage p4 center vspace2"> -<span class="smcap">To My Brother,<br /> -Carlos Everett Conant, A. B.,<br /> -Now Professor of Languages<br /> -in the<br /> -Chaddock College, Ill.,<br /> -and formerly<br /> -Professor in the State University,<br /> -of Minnesota,<br /> -This Book of Poems<br /> -is Affectionately Inscribed.</span> -</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> -</div> - -<table summary="Contents"> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Telulah Spring,</td> - <td class="tdr"><i>Frontispiece</i></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Inscription,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#INSCRIPTION">5</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Introduction,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#INTRODUCTION">11</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Life,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_1">17</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Dream of a Fairy,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_2">18</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Together,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_3">20</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Be Not Discouraged,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_4">21</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Forest Delights,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_5">22</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Parting,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_6">23</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Song,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_7">24</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">God’s Love,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_8">25</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Dreams,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_9">26</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Lines on Life,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_10">28</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Where are the Hearts we Cherished So?</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_11">29</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Contentment,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_12">31</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The Telulah Spring,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_13">33</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Daybreak,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_14">36</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">To a Brown Thrush,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_15">37</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Hope,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_16">38</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The Angel of Home,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_17">39</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">To My Sister,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_18">40</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Woman,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_19">40</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The Fox River,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_20">41</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">A Little Grave,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_21">42</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Autumn Days,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_22">43</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">In Heaven,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_23">44</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Idleness,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_24">46</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The River,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_25">47</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The Crown of Fame,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_26">49</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Elegy on the Death of Hon. C. B. Clark,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_27">52</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">A Reverie,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_28">53</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Opportunity,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_29">56</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Lines Written on Hearing a Gentleman remark: “God Bless Dear Woman.”</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_30">57</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">My Lady Fair,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_31">58</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">To a Firefly,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_32">59</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">My Old New England Home,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_33">60</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">A Lover’s Lament,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_34">62</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Faces That are Gone,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_35">63</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The True Way,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_36">65</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Pitcher or Jug,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_37">66</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Two Lives,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_38">67</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Meditation,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_39">68</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Tempus Fugit,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_40">70</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Gladness,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_41">71</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The Rainbow,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_42">71</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">MISCELLANEOUS VERSES.</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The Dawn o’ Spring,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_43">75</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Zeeke Bullard’s Farm,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_44">76</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Uncle Nick, on Eddication,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_45">80</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Uncle Nick, on Gossipers,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_46">82</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The Art o’ Knowin’ How,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_47">84</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Mother’s Photograph,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_48">86</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Fifty Years,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_49">88</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">A Maiden Wondrous Fair,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_50">89</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Wealth and Want,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_51">92</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Childhood,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_52">93</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The Lassie O’er the Way,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_53">94</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11">11</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a id="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION.</h2> -</div> - -<p>Henry Reed Conant was born in Janesville, -Wis., on the seventeenth day of February, -1872. When four years of age he removed -to Vermont, the native state of his parents -Henry Clay and Dora Evaline (Reed) Conant. -Henry was educated in the public schools -and at the Morrisville “People’s Academy,” -Vermont, and in his fifteenth year returned -to the west.</p> - -<p>He inherited from his New England ancestors -a deep love of nature, and pronounced -religious and moral strength, which tinge -the whole body of his rhymes and poems. -Like many poets in their juvenile days Mr. -Conant’s first lines were simple and artless, -and the world of critics can hardly assail him<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12">12</a></span> -for penning his first rhymes in honor of his -“first love,” thus:</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Of all the lassies in the land<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That e’er I chanced to view,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Methinks the fairest one I saw<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Had sparkling eyes of blue.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>His first published poem appeared in a little -story paper, February, 1890, at Belvidere, -Ills. Nearly all of Mr. Conant’s poems were -written in Wisconsin, his native state. The -selected poems forming this volume reflect -the young poet’s individuality to a sensible -degree. The trend of his thoughts and genius -is toward the more solemn and religious aspects -of nature, and of human experience. -He dwells in the forest’s shade, on the banks -of rivers flowing through lea and woodland, -by the grave of a little child, and wanders -back to his old New England home—to -the scenes of his childhood.</p> - -<p>Henry Reed Conant, like many other beginners -in the literary arena, commits his poems to -a critical public with the full consciousness of -their poetical deficiencies. Criticism he must<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13">13</a></span> -await, and gladly accept as the basis of that -future development through which every -poet must pass ere he attain that popular -following that is the reward not only of genius, -but of bitter disappointments.</p> - -<p class="sigright"> -A. K. G. -</p> - -<p> -Appleton, Wis., Nov. 22, 1893. -</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="newpage p4 poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In feelings, not in figures on a dial.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.<br /></span> -</div> -<div class="attrib">—<i>Bailey.</i> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17">17</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a id="POEMS"></a><span class="larger">POEMS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_1"><i>LIFE.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18">18</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Life is a race in which all compete,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hastening onward with restless feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Eagerly striving for some great prize<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That out in the hidden future lies:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sturdy youth with visions bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stalwart form of manhood’s might,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tottering age, are borne along<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the mighty rush of the endless throng.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like the waves of the sea that forever roll<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis a livelong race to an unseen goal;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the prize is gained at the end of the strife,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For it lies just beyond this earthly life,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where fears, tribulations and trials cease,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the golden realms of eternal peace.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_2"><i>DREAM OF A FAIRY.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19">19</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When all the air was filled with song<br /></span> -<span class="i4">At morning’s early beam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In musing mood I strolled along<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Beside a placid stream.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And as I roved the meadow sweet,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">What bade my heart rejoice?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was it the daisies at my feet?<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Nay, nor the songster’s voice.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For glancing toward the crystal stream<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I spied a little child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon whose brow the morning beam,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">With all its beauty smiled:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And on her cheek, so wondrous fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I saw the ruddy glow,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beheld her locks of flaxen hair<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Wave gently to and fro.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then with delight I nearer drew,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But lo! here ends my theme;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I waked—the fairy fled my view—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">’Twas but a happy dream.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="p2 figcenter" style="width: 70px;"> -<img src="images/dec.jpg" width="70" height="29" alt="decorative tailpiece" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20">20</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_3"><i>TOGETHER.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21">21</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Neath an aged elm sat a loving pair,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A long, long time ago—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A youthful man and a maiden fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With faces all aglow:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The birds’ sweet notes in the boughs above<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the balm of the sweet June weather<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seemed to say, “’Tis the time for love,”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As they chatted and laughed together.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The years flew by—an aged pair,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Sat by an old hearth-stone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With furrowed brows and hoary hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Talking in feeble tone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the happy days they used to know,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When, in the gladsome weather,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They wandered merrily to and fro,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Talking of love together.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And now the grass grows green on a pair<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of graves, made side by side;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Two hearts are lying in silence there,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That once beat with joy and pride.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They shared life’s triumphs, life’s defeats,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thro’ fair and stormy weather,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now they walk the golden streets<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of Paradise—together.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_4"><i>BE NOT DISCOURAGED.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the clouds hang darkly o’er thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Be thou not discouraged:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the world looks drear before thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Be thou not discouraged:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let thy heart be light and gay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soon the clouds will pass away:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis darkest just before the day;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Be thou not discouraged.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22">22</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_5"><i>FOREST DELIGHTS.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23">23</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I love to stroll amid the silent wood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where naught is found to break the quietude,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Except the woodland tenants, or the breeze<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among the tender ferns and tow’ring trees.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here sports the timid hare in wanton glee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While may be heard from yonder chestnut tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The squirrel chirping to its mate near by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which gaily answers with a prompt reply.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here many a brooklet ripples on its way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here countless birds employ their sweetest lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And here and there the startled otter springs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While oft a partridge hies on whirring wings.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What are the palaces of kings and lords<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Compared with all that nature here affords?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These forest charms are dearer to my heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than all the pomp of royalty and art.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_6"><i>PARTING.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24">24</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The deepest sorrow fills the heart<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To see our loved ones perish;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But soon or late we all must part<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With those we fondly cherish.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The tie must break with friend and friend:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The true and noble-hearted<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must one day reach their journey’s end,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To join the dear departed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Why mourn we, then, for those who cross<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The intervening river?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Although to us a heavy loss,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To them is joy forever.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_7"><i>SONG.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25">25</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Not always the prettiest flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fill the air with the sweetest perfume;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And not always the sweetest singer<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is the bird with the fairest plume.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But the sweetness surpassing all other,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the richest and tenderest strain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rise out of the bosom that knoweth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The feelings of love and pain.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_8"><i>GOD’S LOVE.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I know where’er my feet may be,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Tho’ prone to stray,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His watchful eye is over me<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Both night and day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And tho’ ofttimes this heart has erred<br /></span> -<span class="i6">’Mid worldly cares,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know His pard’ning ear has heard<br /></span> -<span class="i6">My humble prayers.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At all times, e’en when I have failed<br /></span> -<span class="i6">To do His will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His love has in my heart prevailed—<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And guides me still.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26">26</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_9"><i>DREAMS.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27">27</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What cloudless scenes of wonder and delight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come to us in the silent realms of night;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Loved ones we meet, that long have been at rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We grasp their hands and clasp them to our breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Talk with them of the happy days gone by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With not a pang of sorrow nor a sigh:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And everything around looks wondrous fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweet flowers of richest hue bloom here and there;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On either hand we see unnumbered throngs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of white-robed angels, wafting joyful songs:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And seeing thus, continued glories rise.—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our souls are ’rapt in endless Paradise.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But mingled voices touch the sleeper’s ear.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lo! how swift the bright scenes disappear!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The morning light beams through the window pane—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dream has fled and day returned again.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28">28</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_10"><i>LINES ON LIFE.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With all the cares and toils that here abound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And e’en deep seas of grief which men must ford—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To him whose guardian is th’ Omnipotent,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life is a source of everlasting joy!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This world at most is but an anteroom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where souls prepare to take their joyous flight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To Heaven’s eternal mansions. Thus the while<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We here remain, is it not meet that we<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Should wear the garb of truth and righteousness?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29">29</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_11"><i>WHERE ARE THE HEARTS WE CHERISHED SO?</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30">30</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Where are the hearts we cherished so,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Who’ve left this earthly main,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gone from kindred circles dear,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Ne’er to return again?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where gone those aged silvery locks?<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That sturdy youthful brow?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alas! no sound comes from the grave,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Where they’re reposing now!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When troubles here our paths beset.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">When cares and woes assail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We often think of those at rest<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Within that happy Vale;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tho’ we cannot wish them back<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In this sad world of pain—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O! how we long to catch a glimpse<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of their dear forms again!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But just beyond the stream which glides<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Between that Land and ours—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where fairer fields are all adorned<br /></span> -<span class="i4">With never-fading flow’rs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And brighter suns forever shine<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Throughout the golden spheres,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We’ll dwell with those who’ve left us here,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Through never-ending years.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="p2 figcenter" style="width: 70px;"> -<img src="images/dec.jpg" width="70" height="29" alt="decorative tailpiece" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31">31</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_12"><i>CONTENTMENT.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The isle of contentment we view from afar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And it dazzles our eyes like a beautiful star;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A region which thousands gaze wistfully at,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And would dwell there, if ’twasn’t for this or for that.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The lord in his palace, the cotter obscure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The high and the lowly, the rich and the poor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are all discontented whate’er be the case,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because they are not in some other man’s place.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32">32</a></span></p> -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In youth, how we long for mature years of men;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In age, how we sigh for our childhood again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wherever our station, whate’er be our lot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We miss countless blessings for joys we have not.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thus, ever thro’ life, from our earliest prime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We look and we long for some happier clime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until the bright portals of Paradise ope,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we soar away home on the pinions of hope.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33">33</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_13"><i>THE TELULAH SPRING.</i></h2> -</div> - -<blockquote> - -<p>A living spring of cool, clear water, on the banks of -the Fox River, Appleton, Wis.: said to have been first -discovered by, and named after, a beautiful Indian -girl by the name of “<span class="smcap">Telulah</span>” who, many years ago, -lived near the spot.</p></blockquote> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34">34</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_35">35</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I’ve heard it told, that many years ago,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When here deep groves stood in their majesty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere they had felt the white man’s fatal stroke,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And peace and happiness breathed over all,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That near this spring an Indian maiden dwelt.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Most beautiful was she, so runs the tale,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With tresses like the darkest raven’s coat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And eyes to match their hue. Her lips, ’tis said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Surpassed the reddest berries on the hill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the bright glow which rested on her cheek<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was like the morning beam, or like the rays<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of eve, that ling’ring, paint the western sky.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such was the one, ’tis said, who first beheld<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This living stream of water, cool and clear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Uprising from the bosom of the earth.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here many a traveler on his weary way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Mid summer’s heat, retires to cool his brow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And freely drink the ever crystal tide.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And men oppressed with city care and strife,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stroll hither when the toils of day are o’er;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or when the weary week draws to a close,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon that day when all men cease their toils,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Approach this calm retreat to meditate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On nature’s wonders and the Mighty One<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By Whom all things were formed and still exist.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And happy lovers strolling hand in hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Amid these pleasant bowers, pause to behold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This sparkling fount forever gushing forth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And linger ’round this scene of beauty, which<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still bears the name of that sweet Indian girl.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36">36</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_14"><i>DAYBREAK.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We behold the bright joys of another day’s dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As time swiftly flies “like a bird on the wing;”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let’s improve every moment, now, ere it has gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For no one can tell what the next one may bring.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our hopes of the future we never may see;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our days that are past we can never redeem;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But to-day every heart, love and joy may impart,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which surpasses the sun’s most radiant beam.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37">37</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_15"><i>TO A BROWN THRUSH</i>,</h2> -</div> - -<p class="p0 center">On finding its nest and young.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38">38</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O little thrush, what gives thee such alarm?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Pray fear thee not, nor think that I am come<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To injure or disturb thy happy home;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy little ones so sweet I ne’er would harm.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy love, like all true parents’ love, is strong—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">At all times anxious for thy young so dear;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But put away now ev’ry needless fear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And once again resume thy happy song.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweet bird, I wish thee never-ceasing cheer!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who, with devoted love and tender care,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Look’st on thy nestlings now so young and fair.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May never cruel enemy come near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Led by blood-thirsty instincts, to destroy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy little home—now filled with peace and joy.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_16"><i>HOPE.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ne’er lose thy courage, tho’ dark seems the strife;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The blackest night dies with the golden dawn:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let not thy hope cease while there still is life,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For Hope is what the world is living on!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39">39</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_17"><i>THE ANGEL OF HOME.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What visions of happiness often steal o’er me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As back to my childhood in fancy I roam;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the picture that mem’ry paints brightest before me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is mother, dear mother,—the angel of home.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No love’s like a mother’s, so true and so tender,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No love’s so enduring ’neath heaven’s broad dome;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And not all earth’s wealth with its pomp and its splendor,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Could steal my affection from mother and home.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40">40</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_18"><i>TO MY SISTER.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">May still thy deeds of innocence,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Like stars of heaven, shine;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thou retain thy purity,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Till Heaven itself is thine!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_19"><i>WOMAN.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The fairest flower that all our path adorns,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The loveliest rose amidst the cruel thorns,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The brightest star that shines in man’s abode,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sweetest gift that Heaven e’er bestowed!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41">41</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_20"><i>THE FOX RIVER.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42">42</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O beautiful river,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How gently among<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fields and the forests<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thou glidest along!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Mid thy pleasant valleys<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And cool shady bow’rs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grow tall fragrant grasses<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And bright blooming flow’rs.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By day o’er thy waters<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sun beameth bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And stars ever twinkle<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Above thee by night.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And never complaining<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thou flowest along<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Mid nature’s wide province<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With laughter and song:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Content with thy mission<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In nature’s great plan;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And such is thy lesson<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thou teachest to man.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_21"><i>A LITTLE GRAVE.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sweetly sing, ye little songsters;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Smile, ye happy skies;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Softly blow, ye wanton breezes—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Here an infant lies!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Brightly bloom, ye tinted flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Wafting sweet perfume;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gently fall, ye summer showers,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">On this little tomb.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43">43</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_22">AUTUMN DAYS.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44">44</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The summer joys are fleeting fast<br /></span> -<span class="i4">From forest, field and glen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And soon shall winter’s piercing blast<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Sweep o’er the earth again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How lovely were the bright spring flow’rs,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That decked the landscape o’er;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But now we see, on fields and bow’rs,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Their dainty forms no more.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The leaves are falling in the wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">From many a lofty height,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And birds are calling to their kind,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Upon their farewell flight.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But still, how cheering is the thought,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">When other joys have flown;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That the little snow-bird leaves us not,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But chirps till winter’s gone.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_23"><i>IN HEAVEN.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45">45</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_46">46</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">One pleasant day in June a little thrush<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lit on a bough close by my window pane,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as the streams from living fountains gush,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Poured forth its sweetest strain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My heart then felt released from every care,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And seemed to rise toward Heaven’s enchanted zone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When soon the music ceased, and looking there,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I saw the bird had flown.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then the thought came to me of the one<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who left me when so youthful and so fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who in the light of Heaven’s unsetting sun<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lives with the angels there.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I little thought, ere those sweet smiles were gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That she so soon must heed the angel’s call;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But all the way He led her safely on<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who marks the sparrow’s fall.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And some day, when life’s billows cease to roar,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And here no more my weary feet shall roam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our souls shall be conjoined forevermore<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In Heaven’s eternal home.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_24"><i>IDLENESS.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Make some good use of ev’ry space of time,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In idleness are sown the seeds of crime;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Man’s erring mind, allured by passions strong,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Begins pursuing here the path of wrong;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And heedless of the peril just ahead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Step after step proceeds with fearless tread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till ruin comes with overwhelming power—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bitter fate of many an idle hour!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47">47</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_25"><i>THE RIVER.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48">48</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Out from the shady woodland,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">With song and laughter free;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down from the sunny hillside,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And over the flow’ry lea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Floweth the restless river,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">On its journey to the sea.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Over the silvery pebbles,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Sparkling like morning dew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whether in light or darkness,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Doth ever its course pursue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till it gains the mighty ocean<br /></span> -<span class="i4">With waters vast and blue.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And thus are <span class="smcap smaller">WE</span> traveling onward,—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">’Tis Hope by which we’re borne,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And our hearts beat with triumphant gladness,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">As we dream of some brighter dawn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With sights that are nobler and grander,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And we journey on and on.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And up from the earth’s dark bosom,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Like the homeward flight of a dove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On Hope’s majestic pinions<br /></span> -<span class="i4">We soar to the realms above,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To lave forever and ever,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In the sea of Eternal Love.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="p2 figcenter" style="width: 70px;"> -<img src="images/dec.jpg" width="70" height="29" alt="decorative tailpiece" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49">49</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_26"><i>THE CROWN OF FAME.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50">50</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_51">51</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What toils and hardships oft confront man’s sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When first ascending fame’s immortal height:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What cares, vexations, worriments prevail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What deep-laid plans, repeated efforts, fail;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet who would dwell in hermit den, obscure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To shun the toils that hero-gods endure!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bestir thyself, O man, for soon—too soon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As youth recedes, shall fade life’s golden noon!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If thou wouldst make thyself undying name,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Direct thy efforts to one worthy aim;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let each exertion then be wrought with zeal,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor faint if woe come where thou look’st for weal;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But toil thou on, nor fear the world’s dark frown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till firm upon the summit of renown.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whatever good, perchance, thy toils, may greet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lose not thyself in folly’s vain conceit:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">False pride to lowest degradation tends—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It leads to vice and vice to crime descends;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As tiny rills, that from the mountain flow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pursue their course to larger streams below,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till seas are joined where mighty billows roll,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So pride goes onward till it wrecks the soul;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus by degrees the downward course begins,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And greatest evils rise from little sins.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor seek thy fame ’mid pompous scenes of art,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where vice and folly oft inure the heart:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis Right eternal kindles honor’s flame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And crowns Man’s efforts with immortal Fame.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="p2 figcenter" style="width: 70px;"> -<img src="images/dec.jpg" width="70" height="29" alt="decorative tailpiece" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52">52</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_27"><i>ELEGY</i>,</h2> -</div> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="p0 center">On the death of Hon. C. B. Clark, member of Congress -from 1887 to 1891, for Wisconsin district No. 6, -(now No. 8.) Died Sept. 10th, 1891.</p></blockquote> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Well may the throngs in countless numbers weep,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bereft of such a great and noble man,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For brilliant was the course of life he ran,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But now he lies in everlasting sleep.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He lived a life exempt from selfish pride;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He never turned a stranger from his door;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He ne’er refused to aid the needful poor;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He proved to youth a never-failing guide.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53">53</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Alas! we mourn, with aching in our breast<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And eyelids moistened with the burning tear,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The loss of one, so generous and sincere,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now silent in his sweet and peaceful rest.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_28"><i>A REVERIE.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O glad shall I be when the winter is ended,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When the wild sweeping blasts of the season are gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the last flakes of snow to the ground have descended,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the drifts have all vanished from meadow and lawn.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54">54</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O glad shall I be when these cold days are over,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the bright joys of summer are with us again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the meadows are blooming with sweet-scented clover,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the warm sun is smiling on new fields of grain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O glad shall I be, when as free as the air<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The birds are all singing their merriest lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To remind me of days when I knew naught of care,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the seasons all seemed like a long summer day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O spring! merry spring! with thy fragrance of flowers,<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55">55</a></span> -<span class="i2">To thee from my sorrows I longingly turn;—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ll forget the drear scenes of these long winter hours,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And dream of thy blessings and happy return.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="p2 figcenter" style="width: 70px;"> -<img src="images/dec.jpg" width="70" height="29" alt="decorative tailpiece" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56">56</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_29"><i>OPPORTUNITY.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Time is ever swiftly fleeting,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Unimproved by scores of men;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Opportunities are passing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That we’ll never have again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Many things we may accomplish,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As the hours go speeding on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If we but improve each moment,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ere the precious time is gone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There are many hearts about us,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That a loving word might cheer;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There are many dear ones with us,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That ere long may not be here:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us then be wise and thoughtful,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As our course we journey on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Striving for the good of others<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ere the precious time is gone.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57">57</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_30"><i>LINES</i></h2> -</div> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="p0 center">Written on hearing a gentleman remark: “God bless -dear woman.”</p></blockquote> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“God bless dear woman!” did I hear you say?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Full many a man might wisely thus remark!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How oft her smiles have cheered man’s troubled way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And comfort brought when fortune’s sky was dark—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The vine that clings unto the oak, whose bark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is coarse and rough and void of pleasing grace;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And like a dove within the cheerless Ark,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mid life’s drear scenes we see her sweetly face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in God’s best design, there love and beauty trace!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58">58</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_31"><i>MY LADY FAIR.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59">59</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When aged winter, fierce and grim,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Had ceased his surly reign,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And virgin spring again adorned<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The forest, field and plain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One morning when the sun was bright<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And music filled the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wandered o’er the meadow sweet<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beside my lady fair!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We strolled along ’mid blooming flow’rs,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till ’neath a spreading tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We sat where swift the raptured hours<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flew o’er my love and me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when at last time bade us part,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I kissed those lips so sweet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And little dreamed but we should still<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Oft thus together meet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But us the stars of heav’n depart,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When dawn her glory brings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One morn the angels bore her off<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon their snowy wings!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet, in the golden realms above,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I trust some day to see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With endless joy, the one who made<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This earth a Heaven to me!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_32"><i>TO A FIRE-FLY.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Blithesome insect, gently flying<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Thro’ the shades of night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As we see thy rays of brightness,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">May our hopes be bright;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tho’ with life’s cares encompass’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">May our hearts be light.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60">60</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_33"><i>MY OLD NEW ENGLAND HOME.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61">61</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_62">62</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the stars above, in gladness,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Twinkle thro’ the evening gloam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a mingled joy and sadness,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Often do my fancies roam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Backward to the vanished pleasures<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of my old New England home.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In that home I see my mother—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of all earthly friends the best—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At her side my younger brother,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">With his youthful pleasures blest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my little brown-eyed sister,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Sleeping on her mother’s breast.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And within that sacred dwelling<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Father’s cheerful face I see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I hear him kindly telling<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Us to ever loyal be;—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the battle-field he perished,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">When they made our country free.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When he went away, our mother<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Safely led our little band,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she taught us of another<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Loving Father, whose strong hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never would forsake his children,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">If they heeded His command:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Taught us, in our youth and beauty,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Ne’er to turn our feet aside<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the paths of truth and duty,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Whatsoever might betide;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But to keep the path of wisdom,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And obey our Heavenly guide.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Back to home and all its pleasures<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Often do my fancies roam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to me, the richest treasures<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Under heaven’s starry dome,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were the blessings of my childhood,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In that old New England home.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_34"><i>A LOVER’S LAMENT.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63">63</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">As lillies, arrayed in their loveliness, fade,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So faded my fairest—my love:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My joys have all fled, for my darling is dead—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">O Stella! My dearest, my dove!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The loveliest flowers, in this sad world of ours,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Are soonest from us to depart—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are first to decay; and thus faded away<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The tenderest joy of my heart.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My hopes, once so bright, have all taken their flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For gone is my beautiful dove:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m weary with grief, and shall ne’er find relief,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till I rest with my darling above.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_35"><i>FACES THAT ARE GONE.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64">64</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How we long to see the faces<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That have crossed the silent tide—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Faces marked with care and sorrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Faces full of joy and pride;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some with furrowed brow and hoary,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Some in youth’s lamented bloom;—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One by one from us departed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For the cold and silent tomb.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Birds employ their notes of gladness<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As they flutter to and fro,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flow’rs display their wealth of beauty,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As they used to long ago;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the birds may sing forever,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the flow’rs forever bloom;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They can ne’er bring back the faces<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That are hidden in the tomb!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Silently death steals upon us,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Silently time speedeth on—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soon we, too, shall all be numbered,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With the faces that are gone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each and all must shortly follow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thro’ the shadows and the gloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the loved ones who are waiting<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the light beyond the tomb.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65">65</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_36"><i>THE TRUE WAY.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66">66</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We know that we’re stubborn and willful,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And tho’ we have kindly been shown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The true way, which God has appointed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We often go on in our own.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And thus we go on in the darkness,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Groping our way thro’ the night;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unmindful ofttimes of His goodness,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And missing His glorious light.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But still He looks down with compassion,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And e’en thro’ life’s greatest alarms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We’re sheltered and safely protected,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As weak little lambs in His arms.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Could we but have more of His goodness<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Implanted each day in our heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perhaps there are others about us<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who’d feel the rich joy we’d impart.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Could our love, every day, be to others<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As the love from our Maker above,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O what a grand army of brothers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Would be banded together in love!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_37"><i>PITCHER OR JUG.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Which brings poverty and woe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which makes useless tears to flow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which brings scorn where’er we go,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Pitcher or jug?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Which fades beauty, health and bloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which turns happiness to gloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which leads to the drunkard’s tomb,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Pitcher or jug?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67">67</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_38"><i>TWO LIVES.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They started out together<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Amid the worldly din;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One yielded to temptation,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And lived a life of sin:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They found his lifeless body<br /></span> -<span class="i4">One pleasant summer dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All mangled in the gutter—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">A wretched life was gone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The other trod the pathway<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of righteousness and truth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And kept his soul as spotless<br /></span> -<span class="i4">As in his early youth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when his voyage was ended,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">On Heaven’s blissful shore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He joined the great reunion,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Where parting is no more.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68">68</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_39"><i>MEDITATION.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69">69</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_70">70</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Mid scenes of mystery life’s tide rolls onward;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tho’ some, delving deep in caves of knowledge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have revealed wondrous facts, this life, concerning,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still blind they are to most of life’s great features;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How powerless to perceive the future’s movements,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or e’en explain the present things about them!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We little more than know that we’re existing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Mid scenes that time and tide are changing ever.<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Hope</i> is a star that lures men ever onward,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oft seeming near and yet forever distant;<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Contentment</i> is an isle where man, if ever,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has seldom dwelt amid the scenes enchanting;<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Love</i> is a dew-drop on the rose-bush glowing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soon to depart as e’en the bush must perish:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All things of earth are like the fleeting shadows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Except the love of Him whose power and wisdom<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Exceeds, by far, man’s deepest understanding,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And He, who clothes the lillies in their beauty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who feeds his flocks and marks the falling sparrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will shield His children from life’s raging tempests,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lead them safe through waters of affliction<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until, at last, beyond the vales and shadows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their eyes behold that Land of endless beauty.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_40"><i>TEMPUS FUGIT.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71">71</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Men sleep, but time speeds on;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sun comes out at dawn<br /></span> -<span class="i4">O’er hill and town,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">At eve goes down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But ever time speeds on.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Men die—the world moves on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when our forms are gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">New hearts arise,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">To seek earth’s prize;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thus the world moves on.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_41"><i>GLADNESS.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Let thy heart, attuned to gladness,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Every fear and doubt dispel—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Banish idle thoughts of sadness,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Then shall joy thy bosom swell.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_42"><i>THE RAINBOW.</i></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Howe’er dark the clouds may hover<br /></span> -<span class="i4">O’er thy pathway, ne’er repine;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mark thou, when the storm is over,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In the heaven that beautious line!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="p8 figcenter" style="width: 338px;"> -<img src="images/dec2.jpg" width="338" height="41" alt="decorative border" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak p1" id="Miscellaneous_Verses"><span class="smcap"><span class="larger">Miscellaneous Verses.</span></span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 338px;"> -<img src="images/dec3.jpg" width="338" height="42" alt="decorative border" /> -</div> - -<h3 class="newpage pad4"><a id="NOTE"></a>NOTE.</h3> - -<p>My first intention was to omit the -following pieces from this publication, -but on recommendation of several -readers I have finally decided to place -them in a seperate department; expecting -in either case—whether included in this -book or omitted—that the youthful -aspirant, in this attempt to flutter out -into the literary sphere, will fall headlong -and be left only to dream of those -glorious heights where others triumphantly -soar amid the silvery clouds of -fancy.</p> - -<p class="sigright"> -H. R. C. -</p> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75">75</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_43"><i>THE DAWN O’ SPRING.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76">76</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yes, boys, I’m waitin’ patiently to see the dawn o’ spring—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To see the flowers in blossom an’ to hear the robins sing;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ to see the trees an’ meadows clad in garbs o’ livin’ green;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ to hear the merry music o’ the brook thet flows between.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It makes me fairly home-sick sech cold wintry days ez these,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The snow a driftin’ everywhere an’ layin’ in the trees;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ when Jack Frost steals ’round et night an’ frescoes everything,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It makes me hanker more an’ more to see the dawn o’ spring.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Fer I know when spring comes ’round ag’in with all her sweet perfume;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her reses all in blossom an’ her orchards all a-bloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ robins singin’ gaily—I’ll be happy ez a king;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thet’s why I’m waitin’ patiently to see the dawn o’ spring.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_44"><i>ZEEKE BULLARD’S FARM.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77">77</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_78">78</a><br /><a id="Page_79">79</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Zeeke Bullard wuz a farmer of no great amount of worth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tho’ his farm wuz well supplied with miles of rich, productive earth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fer he owned three hundred acres, so his frien’s an’ neighbors sed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he uster say thet money wuz a thing he never hed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He’d groan about his losses, an’ his scarcity of tin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ he of’en sed he wondered w’y his crops were all so thin;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’d set aroun’ frum morn till night till days an’ weeks ’ud pass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ talk about the way he’d lose his grain an’ garden sass.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The ’tater bugs in multitudes ’ud come frum all aroun’,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till nothin’ in his Murphy patch wuz left abuv the groun’;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Insects of all descriptions thronged aroun’ his garden beds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While worms with powerful appetites devoured his cabbage heads.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The crows ’ud come day after day to steal his yaller corn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ dine on oats an’ barley till his fiel’s were nearly shorn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ acre after acre where his clover oughter grow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There wa’n’t but giant thistles pintin’ daggers high an’ low.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ when his crops were harvested by bugs an’ worms an’ crows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ wintry blasts were comin’ on, his sons were void of clo’es;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In spite of all the mendin’ thet his little wife could do,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The toes an’ knees an’ elbows of his boys were peekin’ thro’.<br /></span> -</div> - -<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A while ago I left thet place of farmin’ enterprise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ now my folks are livin’ ’neath the broad, blue western skies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ tho’ I ain’t a farmer I’m convinced there’s nothin’ made,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unless you work et farmin’, same ez any other trade.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Weeds don’t need cultervatin’, but they grow up tall an’ stout,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ you mus’ work to save the grain an keep the thistles out:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You can’t loaf ’round frum morn till night an’ talk the hull day thro’,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For yer crops’ll go to ruin jest ez surely ez you do.<br /></span> -</div> - -<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I’ve jest received a letter frum an ol’-time friend of mine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who sed poor Zeeke wuz dwellin’ where bright crowns of glory shine;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’d quit the farmin’ business an’ wuz free frum worl’ly harm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While his seven sons were lef’ to raise the mortgage on his farm.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80">80</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_45"><i>UNCLE NICK, ON EDDICATION.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81">81</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">While ’tendin’ skool I uster be fust class et playin’ ball,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Et playin’ tag er leap-frog I wuz formost of ’em all;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sech sportin’ allus hed fer me a wondrous fascination,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ so I spent more time et this than on my eddication.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I of’en git to thinkin’ what fine chances I hed then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To git an’ eddication, but of course it’s useless when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The opportunity is passed to mourn yer situation—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s pooty hard when you are ol’ to git an eddication.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now boys I’m ’fraid thet some o’ you are growin’ up this way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m ’fraid fer learnin’ some o’ you are substertootin’ play,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m ’fraid there’s boys a-livin’ in this present gineration,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who’ll wish some day they’d seen less play an’ more o’ eddication.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You can’t keep waitin’, thinkin’ thet you’ve got a lot o’ time,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The time to git yer schoolin’, boys, is while you’re in yer prime;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When you are ol’ you’ll see enough o’ care an’ tribulation,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Without the thought thet carelessly you missed an eddication.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82">82</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_46"><i>UNCLE NICK, ON GOSSIPERS.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83">83</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When people git to gossipin’ sometimes they’ll set an’ talk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fer hours an’ hours together, jest ez reg’ler ez a clock;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I s’pose they think folks love to hear their never-endin’ yop,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when Samantha’s talked a while she knows enough to stop.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When Mrs. Jones wuz tellin’ et our place the other day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thet Mrs. Williams told her thet her neighbor, Mrs. Gray,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sed she never saw so big a story-teller’s Widder Heath—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Samantha set there quiet, with her tongue between her teeth.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She ain’t ferever slingin’ out sech everlastin’ gab:—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She of’en sez “it’s bad enough to hear the neighbors blab;”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she jest stays et home instid an’ ’tends to fam’ly cares,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ never tells the neighborhood about her home affairs.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We don’t take any papers, but with news we’re well supplied;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fer the neighbors tell us every birth an’ death an’ suicide:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When Mrs. Jones comes up our walk a-squeakin’ them new shoes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sometimes Samantha’ll say to me, “here comes the daily news.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84">84</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_47"><i>THE ART O’ KNOWIN’ HOW.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85">85</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It’s hard to write a decent song, tho’ maybe you deny it,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Most any job looks easy you’ll allow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But if you’re inexperienced perhaps you’d better try it,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ you’ll find the nickromancy’s in the art o’ knowin’ how.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There’s lots o’ things you’ve never done that looks all killin’ easy—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Did you ever try to milk a kickin’ cow?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If not, just try yer hand fer fun, to satisfy and please ye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ you’ll find the nickromancy’s in the art o’ knowin’ how.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Whatever yer profession, you’ll discover soon or late,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As you stop to wipe the sweat from off yer brow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That to preach a decent sermon er to draw a furrow straight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The nickromancy lies within the art o’ knowin’ how.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So be sure thet you’re adapted to the work thet you profess,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Teachin’ gospel truths er hangin’ on the plow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then buckle down to business, an’ yer can’t escape success,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fer you’ll find the nickromancy’s in the art o’ knowin’ how.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86">86</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_48"><i>MOTHER’S PHOTOGRAPH.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87">87</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">D’you wish to know what came to me from good ol’ Santa Claus?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twuz not a lot o’ nigger-toes to crack between yer jaws,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor candy nor a jumpin’-jack fer makin’ youngsters laugh—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the present thet he give to me wuz mother’s photograph.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Some how a cur’ous feelin’ seems to steal acrost my mind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ez I look back to boyish days an’ think how good an’ kind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thet mother’s been in teachin’ me to shun the evil ways,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ how attentive she hez been, e’en from my infant days.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ when I think how many years she’s toiled thro’ shine and rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ how she’s allus been on hand to soothe my every pain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It seems ez ef to do my best thet I could never be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Half good an’ kind enough to pay fer all she’s done fer me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Perhaps you think it’s silly, but it’s jest ez I hev sed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thet all the other presents ol’ St. Nicholas ever hed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Compared with that he give to me w’ud be but worthless chaff,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor comfort me one half ez much ez mother’s photograph.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88">88</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_49"><i>FIFTY YEARS.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89">89</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Two score and ten summers have glided away,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As time speeds relentlessly on;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And our thoughts wander back, as we sit here to-day,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">O’er the past that has faded and gone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Many dear ones have gone to their rest in the grave,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Young hearts have departed from play;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still others have gone, their dear country to save,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And fall’n ’mid the wild battle’s fray.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Many dear to our hearts are now far in the west,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">While few near the old home remain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And though often lonely, we’ve been greatly blest,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our labors have not been in vain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Tis fifty long years since the day which we set,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our sorrows and pleasures to share;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That bright, happy day we ne’er shall forget,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When life looked so joyous and fair!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_50"><i>A MAIDEN WONDROUS FAIR.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90">90</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_91">91</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Within a certain town there dwelt<br /></span> -<span class="i4">A maiden wondrous fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose cheeks were like the rose’s hue<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And golden was her hair.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her eyes were like the twinkling stars,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Her teeth were like the pearl;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sons of both the rich and poor,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Admired this charming girl.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Two constant beaus this maiden had,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And each one swore that she,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere many months had passed away,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">His own dear wife would be.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But soon an incident occurred<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Which all their plans upset,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When at the maiden’s gate one eve<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Her two admirers met.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hard words arose between the two,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">As oft there had before;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that the maid should be his wife<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Still each persistent swore.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The longer thus they did contend,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The more their wrath did rise;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until at last they came to blows<br /></span> -<span class="i4">O’er who should have the prize.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">While thus engaged, a prim young man<br /></span> -<span class="i4">With unpretentious mien<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Approached, just as the maid herself<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Appeared upon the scene.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then soon the angry blows were ceased<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And quietude restored;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And each apologized to her<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Whom he so much adored.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then bowing low, each went his way;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Quite black and swollen-eyed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While she whom they had fought to win<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Became the third man’s bride.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92">92</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_51"><i>WEALTH AND WANT.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93">93</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How often the poor are despised and neglected,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For no other reason except they are poor;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How often the rich are beloved and respected,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Because they have uncounted wealth at their door.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There’s many an honest and virtuous heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To-day within poverty’s prison enchained;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While thousands reside amid pleasures of art,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whose wealth was thro’ vice and dishonesty gained.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Despise not the needy because they are poor,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor envy the wealthy because of their gold;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Good or ill fortune may stand at our door,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But true hearts are not to be purchased or sold.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_52"><i>CHILDHOOD.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94">94</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We long for those days, once so joyous,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For that unbounded freedom, again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When there were no cares to annoy us,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And life knew no sorrow nor pain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But those sweet days of childhood have vanished,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And we long for them only in vain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Tho’ time has wrought changes unnumbered<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Since those happy seasons were pass’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now with life’s cares we’re encumbered,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Still backward fond visions we’ll cast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we’ll think of our childhood with pleasure<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As long as our memories last.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="poem_53"><i>THE LASSIE O’ER THE WAY.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95">95</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A sweet little lassie<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lives over the way:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She’s pretty and modest,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Yet blithesome and gay.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So perfect her manners,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So graceful her mien;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O who would not worship<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This fair little queen!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Is there a young laddie<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whose heart would not beat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For those smiles so angelic<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And dimples so sweet:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Those blue eyes a-sparkling,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That bright golden hair!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O where’s the young lassie<br /></span> -<span class="i2">More charming and fair!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She’s modest and gentle,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Yet cheerful and gay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This sweet little lassie,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Just over the way.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<h2 class="nobreak p1"><a id="Transcribers_Note"></a>Transcriber’s Note</h2> - -<p>Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a predominant -preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.</p> - -<p>Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced -quotation marks retained.</p> - -<p>All of the illustrations are the same simple decoration.</p> - -<p>“Telulah Spring”, listed as the Frontispiece in the Contents, was -missing from the original book.</p> - -<p>“<a href="#NOTE">Note</a>” at beginning of <a href="#Miscellaneous_Verses">“Miscellaneous Verses”</a>: “seperate” was printed that way.</p> -</div></div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, by Henry Reed Conant - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS *** - -***** This file should be named 51904-h.htm or 51904-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - 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