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diff --git a/old/53385-0.txt b/old/53385-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4671333..0000000 --- a/old/53385-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2287 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's For Your Sweet Sake, by James E. (James Ephraim) McGirt - -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: For Your Sweet Sake - Poems - -Author: James E. (James Ephraim) McGirt - -Release Date: October 27, 2016 [EBook #53385] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR YOUR SWEET SAKE *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif, MFR and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - [Illustration: JAMES E. MCGIRT.] - - - - - For Your Sweet Sake - - POEMS - - By - JAMES E. McGIRT - - Philadelphia: - THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO. - - Copyright 1906, by - JAMES E. McGIRT. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - Page. - -Born Like the Pines 1 - -A Mystery 2 - -The Spirit of the Oak 3 - -“Home Sick” 4 - -Des Fo’ Day 6 - -My Soul’s at Rest 7 - -Inspiration 9 - -The Century’s Prayer 11 - -Anna, Won’t You Marry Me? 12 - -Spring 14 - -A Warrior’s Judgment 15 - -Uncle Is’rel 17 - -If Loving Were Wooing 20 - -Winter 21 - -The Siege of Manila 22 - -Signs o’ Rain 26 - -No Use in Signs 28 - -Lullaby, Go To Sleep 30 - -God, Bless Our Country 32 - -True Love 33 - -Weep Not 35 - -Memory of W. W. Brown 36 - -When De Sun Shines Hot 38 - -Experience 40 - -Success 41 - -Defeated 42 - -I Shall Succeed 43 - -The Rosy Dawn 44 - -A Song of Love 45 - -Thanksgiving Prayer 47 - -Love 49 - -Right Will Win 50 - -Victoria, the Queen 51 - -Life and Love 52 - -A Slothful Youth 53 - -A Quest 54 - -Signs of Death 55 - -A Sailor’s Departure 57 - -A Test of Love 59 - -A Balm for Weary Minds 71 - -Tell Me, Deep Ocean 73 - -Should I Spy Love 74 - -If Love Could See 75 - -Temptation 76 - -Appreciations 78 - - - - - BORN LIKE THE PINES. - - - Born like the pines to sing, - The harp and song in m’ breast, - Though far and near, - There’s none to hear, - I’ll sing as th’ winds request. - - To tell the trend of m’ lay, - Is not for th’ harp or me; - I’m only to know, - From the winds that blow, - What th’ theme of m’ song shall be. - - Born like the pines to sing, - The harp and th’ song in m’ breast, - As th’ winds sweep by, - I’ll laugh or cry, - In th’ winds I cannot rest. - - - - - A MYSTERY. - - - I do not know the ocean’s song, - Or what the brooklets say; - At eve I sit and listen long, - I cannot learn their lay. - But as I linger by the sea, - And that sweet song comes unto me, - It seems, my love, it sings of thee. - - I do not know why poppies grow, - Amid the wheat and rye, - The lillies bloom as white as snow, - I cannot tell you why. - But all the flowers of the spring, - The bees that hum, the birds that sing, - A thought of you they seem to bring. - - I cannot tell why silvery Mars, - Moves through the heav’ns at night; - I cannot tell you why the stars, - Adorn the vault with light. - But what sublimity I see, - Upon the mount, the hill, the lea, - It brings, my love, a thought of thee. - - I do not know what in your eyes, - That caused my heart to glow, - And why my spirit longs and cries, - I vow, I do not know. - But when you first came in my sight, - My slumbering soul awoke in light, - And since the day I’ve known no night. - - - - - THE SPIRIT OF THE OAK. - - - The spirit of the oak am I, - With head uplifted to the sky, - Though hail and storm beat in my face, - Through weal or woe I hold my place, - With head uplifted to the sky, - The spirit of the oak am I. - - Birds I have sheltered many a year, - They hear the storm, desert in fear, - The strenuous eagle strives to stay, - But, ah! at last his heart gives way, - He stretches forth his feathered form, - And sails to heaven above the storm. - - Devoid of every earthly friend, - I stand undaunted till the end, - With head uplifted to the sky-- - The spirit of the oak am I. - - And when the raging storm is o’er, - My feathered friends return once more, - And find me standing calm and free; - They chirp aloud and sing with glee, - With outstretched arm I bid them rest, - I hold no malice in my breast, - But welcome every passer-by-- - The spirit of the oak am I. - - - - -“HOME SICK.” - - - Sittin’ by de windo’, - Gazin’ at de snow, - Up here in de Norf land, - No friends dat I know. - - Lord, if I was dare! - Peaceful, happy Georgia, - Tired of de rip an’ tare, - Sick ob ways o’ city. - - No one hear to talk to, - ’Bout de joy I’s seen, - Speak ob possum huntin’-- - Don’ no what yo’ mean. - - Banjo lyin’ idle, - Not allow’d to play, - People in de nex’ room, - Too much noise, da’ say. - - Write hum’ fo’ a ticket? - Dat ’ould be no use, - Sent me one las’ summer, - Sole’ it like a goose. - - Way too long fo’ walkin’, - Snow a fallin’, too, - Lord a mercy on me, - Wh’t am I to do? - - Com’ hear little banjo, - Lie close to my ear, - I’ll jus’ pic’ yo’ easy, - So dem fools can’ hear. - - What! you say der postman, - Letter he’r fo’ me, - No, I jus’ can’ b’leve it, - Han’ me; let me see. - - Yes dis is her writin’, - Ticket too hav’ com’, - Com’ on little banjo, - Com’, I’m goin’ hom’. - - - - - DES FO’ DAY. - - - When fo’ yeahs yo’ve been er tryin’ - ’N’ de thing fo’ wh’t yer tries, - Ez yo’ reach yer han’ ter t’ke it, - Des mov’s off bufore yer eyes, - ’N’ yer thro’ er side yer shovel, - Like yer ain’t goin’ wohk no mo’, - ’N’ yer wonder whur’s ole Gabr’l, - What’s de re’son he don’t blo’; - Den yer wan’ ter wohk de harder, - Fo’ ise allus he’rd um say, - De darkes’ hour, - Des fo’ day. - - Co’rse its hard ter keep on runnin’, - When de stake keeps movin’ ’way, - ’N’ ter hav’ er mind fo’ wohkin, - When yer think der ain’t no pay, - But puhaps when clouds er blackes’, - ’N’ der worl’ seems at its wu’s, - Dat it all com’s on er pu’pus, - Maby it fo’ warnin’ us, - Den yer wan’ ter wohk de harder, - Fo’ ize allus he’rd um say, - De darkes’ hour, - Des fo’ day. - - - - - MY SOUL’S AT REST. - - - J’s ’bout d’hk I com’ hom’ ploddin’, - Tired and ro’sted from de sun. - Tho’ I wo’k f’om mo’nin’ early, - Seems m’ tas’ ez never don’; - Th’n its wh’n I sit er scowlin’, - Dinah smoothes m’ brow ’n’ sa’, - Ephr’m yo’s bro’t nothin’ wit’ you’, - Chil’ you’ can’t t’ke nothin’ wa’; - An’ she re’ch’s me m’ banjo, - An’ I lay it cross my bres’, - Fo’ my trouble’s all forgotten - An’ my soul’s at res’. - - Soon de spring com’ on a smilin’ - I ’gin frettin’ ’bout de grain, - Fo’ my little gard’n parchin’ - An’ my crop ez needin’ rain; - Th’n its wh’n I sit a scowlin’, - Dinah smoothes m’ brow ’n’ say’, - Ephr’m you’s bro’t nothin’ wit’ you’, - Chile, yo’ can’t t’ke not’in wa’; - An’ she re’ch’s me m’ banjo, - An’ I lay it cross m’ breast, - Fo’ my trouble’s all forgotten, - An’ my soul’s at rest. - - Som’ des days ’t’ll all be over, - I will la me down an’ sleep, - Dinah, honey, don’t yo’ worry, - Tell de people not to weep. - Th’n its w’en I lay a sleepin’, - Smooth my bro’ as ol’ an’ sa’, - Ephr’m, honey, I will meet yo’, - ’Round de throne o’ God som’ da’; - T’ke my banjo f’om de ceilin’, - La’ it sofly ’cross my bres’, - Fo’ my troubles will be over, - An’ my soul at rest. - - - - - INSPIRATION. - - - Of’en w’en de race I’m runnin’, - Chil’ my feet gits blistered so’ - Dat I hav’ a notion fallin’ - ’Pears I jus’ can’ run no mo’; - Th’n I ’gin to think o’ Lizah, - Wit’ a smil’ upon her face - Stan’in’ at de gate er waitin’, - Jus’ to see me win de race, - An’ I start out wit’ new courage, - Fo’ to win de race or die. - Well I feel jus’ like a feather, - Man, I fairly fly. - - Der are times w’en courage leav’ me, - An’ I thro’ my burden down, - Somethin’ sa’s ders no use tryin’, - Seems I jus’ don’ wan’ no crown; - Th’n I ’gin to think o’ Lizah, - An’ I wondah wh’t she’d say, - Ef she’d come along an’ fin’ me, - In de gutter by de way. - An’ I gather up my burden, - An’ I start wit’ all my might, - Fo’ my limbs at once grow stronger, - An’ my load gits light. - - Clouds may gath’r dark ez midnight, - Matters not de cos’ o’ Fate, - All I wan’ to kno’ ez Lizah, - Waitin’ fo’ me at de gate; - Tho’ns and thistles lose dey terro’, - Hill an’ mountains melt er way; - Tho’ de worl’ seem dark an’ drary, - At de tho’t ’twill turn to day. - Fo’ w’en I think o’ Anner Lizah, - All de worl’ gits clear an’ bright. - An’ my limbs dey grow much stronger, - An’ my load gits light. - - - - - THE CENTURY’S PRAYER. - - - Lord God of Hosts incline thine ear, - To this Thy humble servant’s prayer; - May war and strife and discord cease, - This Century, Lord God, give us peace. - The thoughts of strife, the curse of war, - Henceforth, dear Lord, may we abhor, - One blessing more, our store increase, - This is our prayer, Lord, give us peace. - - May those who rule us, rule with love, - As Thou dost rule the Courts above; - May man to man as brothers feel, - Lay down their arms and quit the field; - Change from our brows the angry looks, - Turn swords and spears to pruning hooks, - One blessing more our store increase, - This is our prayer, Lord, give us peace. - - May flags of war fore’er be furled, - The milk-white flag wave o’er the world; - Let not a slave be heard to cry, - “The lion and lamb together lie;” - May nations meet in one accord, - Around one peaceful festive board. - One blessing more our store increase, - This is our prayer, Lord, give us peace. - - - - -ANNA, WON’T YOU MARRY ME? - - - Anna, child, the spring has come, - Listen to the robins, dear; - The honeysuckles are in bloom, - The fragrance fills the air. - A dove is cooing soft and low, - Telling how he loves his mate; - For you the flowers seem to grow, - For you they seem to bloom and wait. - Two by two the sparrows build, - High up in the orchard tree-- - Anna, Anna, Anna, won’t you marry me? - - Anna, O! ho! ho! - The aching of my heart; - It seems, my love, I’m bound to go, - If we have to live apart. - My heart says Anna all the time, - Love, I’ll die for thee-- - Anna, Anna, Anna, won’t you marry me? - - ’Member, love, the vow you made, - When out in the orchard, dear; - The stars can witness what you said, - The moon was sailing clear. - You promised, love, that you’d be mine, - Promised in the early spring. - And now the bees are ’round the vine, - Everywhere the song-birds sing, - In every flower I see your name, - Everywhere it seems to say, - Anna, Anna, this is our wedding day. - - Anna, O! ho! ho! - The aching of my heart; - It seems, my love, I’m bound to go, - If we have to live apart; - My heart says Anna all the time-- - Anna, Anna, Anna, won’t you marry me? - - - - - SPRING. - - - I rise up in de mornin’ - Early in de spring, - And hear de bees a hummin’ - An’ hear de robbins sing; - Th’re com’ o’er me a feelin’ - So queer I know not why. - I jus’ sit down an’ listen, - It seem I ’most could cry; - The win’ has lost its biting, - Aroun’ de vine de bees, - The air is full o’ fragrance, - From blossom of the trees. - I stroll out in de garden, - An’ take a look about, - I see de ground’ a crackin’, - The seed has ’gun to sprout. - Beneath de vine a blossom, - All dried and curled it lies, - A striped little melon, - Is hangin’ ’fore my eyes. - Its den I ’gin a hummin’ - And join de birds and sing, - My heart is full o’ rapture, - And grandeur of the spring. - - - - - A WARRIOR’S JUDGMENT. - - - A warrior stood before his Master, - Bruised and bleeding from the fight, - Not for power, neither honor, - But in battling for the right. - - Torn and tattered was his body, - Gashed and wounded was his face, - Stood he waiting for the Master - To assign his resting place. - - The Master gazed on him in pity, - Saw the form which He had made, - Once like His, now so distorted; - Gazed into his face and said: - - “Tell me, son, is this the body - That I gave you for awhile-- - Given you so pure and holy, - You return it so defiled?” - - “Master,” said the trembling soldier, - “In yonder world where I have been, - Daily I’ve encountered battle - With the daring monster, Sin. - - “Each step I fought my journey through; - He strove to keep me from the goal; - Though he scored me yet I conquered; - Master, he’s not scarred the soul.” - - The Master saw the soul still shining, - Thought of His own hand and side, - Beckoned to the brightest heaven - That the gate be opened wide. - - Then the Master cried, “Immortal!” - The soul came flashing from his breast, - Pointing to the fairest heaven, - “Enter thou in peaceful rest!” - - - - - UNCLE IS’REL. - - - De peopl’ call me a conger, - Jus’ caus’ I do som’ tricks, - An’ caus’ I got dis lucky black cat bone, - Can gather roots to make tea wit’, - Not ’les’ dey talk ’o th’t, - Dey’s scared o’ me an’ say I tote load stone. - - Don’ car’ wh’t I do noble, - No matter how I work, - Dey say de load stone don’ it jus’ de same. - Like wh’n I took Lucindy, - ’Way from de ’fessor Jones, - Dey up an’ said I got hur wit’ some skeame. - - Let somethin’ happen to de neighbors, - Let one o’ th’m git sick, - Fo’ it old Is’rel got to bear de blame, - Jes caus’ I got th’s goofer, - An’ a rabbit foot or two; - Th’y say I do mos’ ever’thing th’y dream. - - Som’tim’ th’y talk so scand’lo’s, - It gits me all up-sot, - Wh’n worrin’ over wh’t th’y say, - I wan’ ’o t’ke my goofer, - As’ ever’thing I got, - An’ let de people see me thro’ ’m ’way. - - I gath’r th’m together, - An’ put ’m in a pile, - I ’gin to think about de needy day, - I think wh’t they’d do fo’ me; - An’ git mad wit’ myself, - Fo’ worrin’ over wh’t de people say. - - Fo’ wh’n I ’gin a thinkin’, - ’Bout wh’t migh’ com’ o’ me, - Can’ help the tears from comin’ in my eye, - One tim’ de world’ was ’gains’ me, - An’ frien’s had turn’ their backs, - My rabbit foot an’ goofer stood righ’ by. - - Yo’ call me wh’t yo’ wan’ to, - An’ jus’ don’ bother me, - I’m goin’ ’o keep the things th’t bro’t me thro’; - Yo’ talk o’ mother’s teachin’, - But wh’t they don’ fo’ me, - Is much as any mother’d ever do. - - I use’ to mark de path, - Th’t run ’fore master’s door, - An’ ever mornin’ he would hav’ to cross - The load stone in my pocket, - I don’ jus’ lik’ I pleas’; - Mos’ every body tho’t I was de boss. - - Wh’n master’d cross de mark, - Yo’ see him ’menc’ to smile, - To git wit’ me it always made him proud; - I made de women lo’ me, - An’ long as I was th’re, - Nobody ever hurt one o’ de crowd. - - Wh’n I go out a courtin’, - I goofer up my hands, - An’ put a rabbit down in my sho’, - No man on earth can beat me, - A winnin’ o’ de love; - Fo’ wh’n I meet de girls th’s way I do. - - Make out I’m glad to see th’m, - An’ grab’m by de han’, - Be rubbin’ load stone on ’em all de tim’; - No use in tryin’ to s’un me, - I’m goin’ to win your love, - Fo’ ef I want you, I can make yo’ min’. - - - - - IF LOVING WERE WOOING. - - - If wishing were getting, - Ah! wouldn’t it be fine? - If loving were wooing, - Alice, thou would’st be mine; - Neither wealth nor honor, - Nor gem from the sea, - Can cause such a yearning - As I have for thee. - - What need of a ruby - When your cheeks I see? - Those gems ’neath your lashes - Are diamonds to me; - Your forehead’s a sapphire, - Beaming ’neath a curl; - Your lips seem a rosebud, - Hiding two rows of pearl. - - - - - WINTER. - - - Oh! the winter’s coming, - Leaves are getting brown, - Hickory nuts and acorns - Falling to the ground. - - Pumpkins getting yellow, - Persimmons getting ripe, - Opossum ’gin to fatten - And quails begin to pipe. - - Bird dog in the broom sage, - Hunter’s got his gun, - Erastus with old Traylor-- - Opossum’d better run. - - Turkeys in the corn-crib, - Chickens got their sway; - Let’m be, they’re fattening, - For Thanksgiving Day. - - - - - THE SIEGE OF MANILA. - - - Just a few miles from Manila Bay, - Near the close of a summer’s day, - When the sun was flooding with gold the west, - Our fleet was ordered to stop and rest, - After the regular meal was served, - And the code of evening was observed, - Each retired to his usual place, - And gazed into the dome of space. - With awe they watched the steady blaze, - As down on us they seemed to gaze. - I never shall forget the night, - The silvery stars were shining bright, - A full-orbed moon hung in the west, - As if to see the great contest. - The wind was of a peaceful gale. - It was a pleasant night to sail. - The ocean waves were rolling ’long, - A pealing forth a mournful song, - But soon from the sea a mist arose, - That caused the starry book to close. - When sable night had reigned her last, - The rosy morn was coming fast. - Within the glimmer of the day, - We sailed to take Manila Bay. - Soon the fort revealed in sight, - From out the windows gleamed a light. - And then when we saw the deadly gun, - A glistening in the rising sun, - It seemed that fire came in our blood. - Like tigers by our guns we stood, - It seemed our souls would burst with ire, - While waiting the command to fire. - In perfect silence, not a breath, - An instant could have brought us death. - The mist that from the ocean rose, - Had hid us from our Spanish foes. - And when the enemy sent no sound, - A whisper ’mong us passed around. - “Fortune’s with us,” our Captain cried, - “We’ve entered in and are not spied.” - By the fort we ’gan to start, - A distance though we sailed a port. - One by one our ships stole by, - As wolves before a shepherd’s eye. - All of our fleet had safely passed, - Except McCullough, which fortune blessed, - Within its furnace cured a rick, - And sparks went flying from its stack. - The sparks that from the ship did fly, - Met all at once the fort men’s eye. - Through glasses they began to peep, - Their glasses raised the cause to greet. - To their surprise they spied our fleet. - A cry of terror, a dash, a run, - The shells came blazing from each gun, - Before an instant hardly passed, - Around us shells were falling fast. - Their mines in vain they did explode, - But we were safe in our abode. - Our captain gave command to fire, - Which seemed to be our soul’s desire. - Before the words he could repeat, - The shells went blazing from our fleet, - Our hearts were burned with hatred ire, - We filled the air with shell and fire. - While the battle was raging high, - And glowing shells were falling nigh, - Dewey back through memory gazed, - Saw the Maine, became enraged. - And with his dazzling sword in hand, - He whirled it high and gave command, - With fury blazing from his eye, - With thundering voice was heard to cry, - “Remember the Maine! Speed! Haste! - Be careful, boys, no shells to waste.” - Remembered we our blood did run, - And sent shells flying from our gun. - Our boats, like burning Vesuvius seemed, - From out our guns shells poured and streamed. - Directed by an immortal eye, - For not a strayward shell did fly. - But each of the shells from the guns that went, - Performed the mission on which ’twas sent. - Our captain took his glass in hand, - And o’er the battle quickly scanned. - “Stop the guns,” he quickly cried, - “Fortune now is on our side; - The Spanish fleet is in a blaze, - And sinking fast before my gaze.” - When this command to us was given, - Three hearty cheers went up to heaven, - And when the sun sent down her sheen, - Not a Spanish boat was to be seen. - The valiant fleet of tyrant Spain, - Beneath the mighty deep was slain. - - - - - SIGNS O’ RAIN. - - - Whin yoah corns an’ bunions achin’, - An’ yoah body’s full o’ pain, - Yo’ can res’ right shure an’ sertin’, - Dat we’s goin’ ’o hav’ som’ rain. - - Cours’ de achin’ is not plesen’ - Tho’ I wish it I mus’ fea’, - But not ’caus’ I lov’ de hurtin’, - But I kno’ I’ll get som’ rest. - - In de winter I go huntin’, - Wh’n de groun’ is white wi’h snow, - In de summer I go fishin’, - Wh’n de groun’s too wet to plow. - - Do yo’ hear de dogs a barkin’, - Lik’ da’s struck a raccoon trail, - Sho’ sine o’ fallin’ weather, - Chile, I’s neber seen it fail. - - Run out, Jacob, look back Southward, - An’ see if ther’s a cloud in sight, - Goshie, wh’t a clap o’ thunder, - Clouds ’re hangin’ black as night. - - Jacob heard de rain a fallin’, - Pitter patter on de roof, - Fold his arms and looked at Hannah, - Now yo’ see I’s tol’ de truth. - - Daddy in de chimney corner, - Jake, I hear you wishin’ rain, - Yes sur, dad, de garden parchin’ - Don’t yo’ think ’twill help de grain? - - - - - NO USE IN SIGNS. - - - Der’s no use bein’ scared o’ cungers, - An’ lettin’ black cats turn you back, - You jus’ go on about your business, - And let de cungers hav’ your track. - - Fo’ Friday aint no wus’ dan Monday, - As far as luck to you’s concerned, - You han’ may itch don’t spit into it, - You won’t git nothin’ but what you earn. - - Your nose may itch, no one is coming, - Your foot may itch, you’ll go nowhere, - An’ you can let de worms crall o’er you, - An’ den no new dress get to wear. - - ’N’ caus’ you have a little learnin’, - You need not try to figure rich, - Jus’ go and get a spaid or shovel, - And go runnin’ to de ditch. - - And when you feel a little happy, - Don’t think of all de grief you’ve had. - An’ ’caus your eyes is trimblin’ little, - Dat ain’t no sign you goin’ git mad. - - An’ if de toe next to de big one, - Is kinder long--you ain’t go’in rule, - Because my hair grows on my forehead, - You need not take me for a fool. - - I’m going to sing soon in de mornin’, - De hawks may catch me before night, - But if da do you need not worry, - Jus’ say: “I bet they had to fight.” - - - - - LULLABY, GO TO SLEEP. - - - I’ll ne’er forget the day, - When I was young and gay, - A rolling ’round the floor in Tennessee; - From th’ cotton field so white, - My ma would come at night, - And fondly hold me in her arms and say: - - Go to sleep, baby mine, - Little birdie in your nest; - Humming bees have left the vine, - Go to sleep and take your rest. - - In winter cold and chill, - At night, when all was still, - I’d wake to find her standing over me, - A smile upon her face, - A creepin ’round the place, - She’d tuck the cover over me, and sing: - - Go to sleep, baby mine, - Little birdie in your nest; - Humming bees have left the vine, - Go to sleep and take your rest. - - So many years have passed, - Since we assembled last, - That dear old soul has gone away to dwell. - If this whole world was mine, - The wealth I would decline, - If I could only hear my mother sing: - - Go to sleep, baby mine, - Little birdie in your nest; - Humming bees have left the vine, - Go to sleep and take your rest. - - - - - GOD BLESS OUR COUNTRY. - - - God bless our home, land of the free, - And those who rule, who e’er they be; - Protect the flag, and let it wave - Over all free men, not the slave. - May we, dear Lord, sustain its name; - Forbid that it shall trail in shame; - To those who from oppression flee - May this, our land, a refuge be. - - May we sustain all we profess; - Forbid that we should man oppress; - May we accept fraternal love - And live as we must live above. - - - - - TRUE LOVE. - - - How true, dear, my love is; - Too great to compare, - Truer than the stars, - That shoot from their sphere; - Think how the sun sets - And withdraws its light; - Think how I love thee - Alone in the night. - Think of its rising, - How it varies in time; - Oh! there is no varying - In this heart of mine. - True as a rock, then-- - How could I this say - When softest of waters - Can wear stone away? - Even time must change - To eternity. - Oh! there is no changing - In my love for thee. - True as eternity! - No, it’s not begun; - All must start even - When a race is to run. - When old eternity - Becomes mossy and gray, - Then, dear, I’ll love thee - The same as to-day. - Fear not that pale death - Will drift us apart; - Ah! death cannot sever - The love in my heart. - When we reach heaven - We shall find our own; - I’m told we will know there - As we are known. - - - - - WEEP NOT. - - - Weep not, friend, o’er your condition, - He who tries can find a way; - Labor, and to God petition, - Strive, and you will rise some day. - - Let your steps be sure and steady, - Push ahead and never stop; - Though the field seems filled already, - There is room still at the top. - - If you wish to climb life’s ladder, - Start to climb it from the ground; - If great your strength it makes it sadder - To have to climb it round by round. - - - - - MEMORY OF W. W. BROWN. - - - Dear father Brown, the great, the good, - The noble leader of our race; - With task complete his spirit fled, - To heaven, its final resting place, - And there in peace it shall remain, - Securely wrapped from care and pain; - His body ’neath sweet roses sleeps, - An angel o’er him vigil keeps. - - Weeping for one so dearly loved, - Too soon it seems we had to part; - To see him hid beneath the clay, - Sharp sorrow fills the aching heart, - It seems I see him on the stand, - Fain I could hear him give command; - And with his outstretched, loving arm, - Imploring people to reform. - - Think of the great work he has done, - Behold the great reformer’s hand; - Ten thousand marching to and fro, - To seek, to help, to lend a hand, - Thy life has not been spent in vain, - Thy deeds are monuments of fame; - Thy name from earth will ne’er depart, - ’Tis graved with kindness on the heart. - - No more to meet us here on earth, - The noble impulse thou hast given; - Will urge us on the mighty course, - Until we, too, are called to heaven. - Beneath the clods is it the last, - Oh, no, the memory of the past; - As Bethlehem star the wise men led, - His light will lead us though he is dead. - - - - - WHEN DE SUN SHINES HOT. - - - No, dere ain’t no use er workin’ in de blazin’ summertime, - Whin de fruit hab filled de orchard, an’ de burries bend de vine; - Der’s enuf ter keep us libin’ in de little gyarden spot, - An’ der aint no use’n workin’ w’en de sun shines hot. - - Fur I’ze read it in de Bible ’bout de lilies how dey grow, - It was put in der er purpus dat de workin’ men mout know, - Dat dis diggin’ an er grabben, wusn’t men’t in our lot, - An’ der ain’t no use’n workin’ we’n de sun shines hot. - - Does yer heer de streams er callin’ az it cralls erlong de rill; - Does yer se de vines er wavin’, biddin’ me ter kum an’ fill? - Whar’s m’ hook and line--say, Hannah, give me all de bait yer got, - Fur der ain’t no use’n workin’ w’en de sun shines hot. - - Des ’bout dark I kum hum, strollin’ wid a binch er lubly trout; - Hannah she c’mmence er grinnin’ little Rastus ’gin to shout; - Soon de hoecake is er bakin’, fish er fryin’, table sot. - No, der ain’t no use’n workin’ w’en de sun shines hot. - - - - - EXPERIENCE. - - - They told me that the path I took was hard, - That many a time my weary feet would bleed; - They said at last I’d find my way was barred; - I would not heed. - - They bade me stop and go the other way; - This path, they said, Fate thorns and thistles strew; - But I was young, Ambition led the way; - I thought I knew. - - But when my bleeding feet came to the end, - And I was bound and scourged by cruel Fate; - Alas, I cried, pray let me start again; - It was too late. - - - - - SUCCESS. - - - Success is a light upon the farther shore, - That shines in dazzling splendor to the eye, - The waters leap, the surging billows roar, - And he who seeks the prize must leap and try. - - A mighty host stand trembling on the brink, - With anxious eyes they yearn to reach the goal. - I see them leap, and, ah! I see them sink-- - As gazing on dread horror fills my soul! - - Yet to despair I can but droop and die, - ’Tis better far to try the lashing deep. - I much prefer beneath the surge to lie, - Than death to find me on this bank asleep. - - - - - DEFEATED. - - - Vain and defeated each effort of life, - Feeble and hoary, sick of the strife, - But yet in my bosom a spirit says, “rise,” - A voice calling onward out of the skies. - - Though wounded in battle, bleeding I lay, - I hear the voice calling, and strive to obey. - And make my last effort the battle to gain; - Ah! death is upon me, I struggle in vain. - - - - - I SHALL SUCCEED. - - - I shall succeed, although Fate rules to-day, - And heaps up thorns and thistles in my way. - I bear the yoke and tread them with a smile, - For I am sure it is but for awhile. - - Each day that dawns I strive to break the chain, - Although to-day it seems so massive strong; - Although it seems my labors are in vain, - I’ll strive and wait, it matters not how long. - - For like the drip that falls upon the millstone, - So soft it strikes at first it seems but play; - But drip on drip a tiny dent will come-- - We turn at length and find it washed away. - - Thus will I beat Fate’s chains, though strokes be feeble, - To hasty men it all may seem but play. - The hand of man though soft as drops is able, - To wear at length the hardest stone away. - - - - - THE ROSY DAWN. - - - From out the rosy dawn the sun comes forth; - See, love, what robes of splendor dawns the sea! - So is my soul hallowed with joy and love, - Gleaming from thee. - - For, when at morn I stroll along the path, - There I behold thy beauty from afar; - And, like the rosy dawn, it fills my soul; - I stand in awe. - - Look, love, the rosy scene is in the West! - And soon this world shall be in solemn night. - So will my soul if thou shouldst, like the sun, - Withdraw your light. - - - - - A SONG OF LOVE. - - - A song I sing a blessing so divine, - Which all can feel yet no one can define; - It comes like hallowed glory from above, - We feel the joy and call the blessing love. - - Just as we know when zephyr’s in the rye, - We cannot see, still how we mark their way; - Just so it is when love meets you and me-- - We bend and sway. - - For who can hide the love that’s in his breast? - He only feels, though known by all the rest; - For when love comes the gall is changed to sweet, - It brought the valiant Hector to its feet. - - Just as love brought the heroes kneeling down, - She leads the world quite gently with her sway, - No need of lash--just simply smile or frown-- - We will obey. - - Yes, love can lead her victim just at will; - Greater the pain greater he loves her still; - Through thorns and thistles ’till his feet are sore, - She bids him stop; he cries to follow more. - - Just as a bird must know the limb’s secure - Before she comes to build on it her nest, - So love will nestle when she finds us true, - Deep in our breast. - - Just as we bruise a pear to make it sweet, - So love will bruise her victim with her feet; - It shoves the baby eagle from its nest; - Before it falls her wings go ’neath its breast. - - - - - THANKSGIVING PRAYER. - - - Lord God, I turn on this Thanksgiving Day, - To view the path o’er which I’ve made my way, - Although a path of thorns my eye may greet, - Although I feel the sting still in my feet; - Although the harvest fail my barn to fill, - With grateful heart I bow and thank Thee still. - - For I am sure what e’er has been my lot, - How meek, how poor is more than I deserve. - Unto Thy will I bow and murmur not. - - I’ll not condemn His justice--whom I serve. - I’ll not complain and call Thee, Father, stern. - Because Thy sacred plans I’ve failed to learn; - The cause of all this grief I cannot tell, - And yet, like Job of old, I’ll not rebel. - - Lord God, I turn on this Thanksgiving Day, - To view the path o’er which I made my way. - Although a path of thorns my eye may greet, - Although I feel the sting still in my feet, - Although the harvest fail my barn to fill, - With grateful heart I bow and thank Thee still. - - - - - LOVE. - - - So oft I’ve read what poets sang of love, - To feel their joy far years in vain I sought; - At last love came, a cooing little dove; - The joy it brought! - - And since the day when I first sipped the wine, - I’ve felt a song I would all men could hear, - Though vainly I have sought for word and rhyme - To make it clear. - - To teach this song love only has the power; - To mortal man the door is sealed, though near. - Some day the door will open, you’ll discover - Love’s song and hear. - - - - - RIGHT WILL WIN. - - - Think not, my friend, if right be crushed to-day, - That violent wrong will ever hold the day; - A noble cause aside the kings may toast, - If it be right, Oh! no, ’tis never lost. - Know ye, the stone the builders first refused, - Was left alone, but at the top was used. - God stopped and called the leper from the cross; - He can not use the haughty and the proud; - From out the stagnant pool He makes to grow - The fragrant water lilies, white as snow. - - - - - VICTORIA THE QUEEN. - - - Oh, victorious Queen, it’s through thy loyal grace - I bring this wreath--a token from my race; - True, thou art gone, no more on earth to meet; - I come to spread these lilies at thy feet. - Of all the wreaths brought from the floral shrine, - This wreath alone portrays the life of thine. - These many years thou wert before our sight, - So calm and kind, so pure, serenely bright, - Like glowing sunlight, seated on thy throne, - Giving us rays, withholding them from none. - One soul, one God, has been thy sacred theme; - The high, the low--their cries were heard the same. - Rest on, grand soul, in perfect peace above, - For thou wert love, and love must rest with love; - Even though we weep, though sorrow fills our breast, - We do not wish to call thee from thy rest, - A star, though quenched, thy light is shining still; - Thy voice, though hushed, thy subjects know thy will. - - - - - LIFE AND LOVE. - - - Life is a boundless sea, on which men float; - Succeed we may to ride the waves of Fate, - Yet still within our paths there surely lies, - The chasm death, the voidless ultimate. - - Love is a sacred shrine, to which men kneel, - Succeed we may the blessing to attain, - Yet rest assured the hallowed joy it brings, - E’en though sublime, somehow is tinged with pain. - - - - - A SLOTHFUL YOUTH. - - - Beside the road in youth I sat in slumber, - The passers hailed and told me it was day; - “But, ah!” said I, “my days are great in number.” - And soundly slept, regardless of their say. - - Now, here I sit; the night has come upon me; - I fain would go, but darkness hides my way. - I’d turn to God that He would look upon me; - I’ve now forgot the prayer I used to pray. - - Yet, while I sit and vainly wait, the morning, - I yearn to tell, but ah! it is too late. - That he who sleeps at day and fails the warning, - Shall wake at night, the dreadful ultimate. - - - - - A QUEST. - - - Tell me, my soul, tell me, I pine to know, - Some future day, known as the harvest time! - Am I to reap from all the grain I sow, - My ill-wrought deed am I to claim as mine? - - If I should hurl my javelin in the dark, - And spread out thorns and thistles ’long the way, - Will it return and find me as its mark? - Am I to tread the thorns some future day? - - O Lord, I pray that Thou wouldst guide my hand; - Let not an evil seed by me be sown, - Or cause to sprout within a brother’s land - What I should hate to see within my own. - - - - - SIGNS OF DEATH. - - - When you hear at night de cows a lowin’, - An’ dogs a howlin’ out der mournful soun’, - I tell you now you better get you ready, - Dey’s goin’ to plant som’body in de groun’. - - You need not b’leave in signs, not less you wan’ to, - But some of des morn’ you’ll wake up in su’prize, - An’ if dem dogs com’ howlin’ where I’m sleepin’, - I tell you now dis darkey’s goin’ ’o rize. - - If der’s any doubts o’ being ready, - Down on my knees a prayer I’ll make, - You can laugh an’ say dat darkey’s skeery, - I’m like a rabbit can’ trus’ no mistake. - - It may not be fo’ me de dog’s a howlin’, - But when de howl my path I’m goin’ ’o sweep - An’ I ain’t goin’ to bed no mo dat evenin’, - Fo’ death will never com’ an’ fin’ me sleep. - - Der’re lots o’ learned people talkin’, bully, - An’ saying der’s nothing in de signs; - But if da com’ a roun’ me with der learnin’ - I’m jus’ er goin’ ’o tell ’em dey’re lyin’. - - I’se got no time to listen to der learnin’, - Fo’ dey is jus’ a tryin’ to show off smart, - Der ain’t nobody, don’t care how dey’s learned, - Dat’s got de signs all wiped out o’ der heart. - - Fo’ learnin’ never takes from man his habits, - It only smears dem over wid a stain, - An’ caus’ you’re learned, you is not an angel, - Dem same old trates er lurkin’ still within. - - I kno’ I’m learned as high as anybody, - Yit whin a chicken coop I’m passin’ by, - Der com’ to me again dem same old feelin’s - I’m going ’o hav’ dat chicken ’cep he fly. - - - - - A SAILOR’S DEPARTURE. - - - My dearest child, I have no wealth to give you, - No ring of gold to you can I impart; - Going, yet why should going grieve you? - You have my heart. - - In calm, in storm, no matter how the weather, - My one great thought shall ever be of thee; - Tell me, I pray thee, tell me whether - You’ll think of me? - - Without your love I wish my burden lighter; - With head bowed low I plod life’s weary way, - But with your love each day is brighter, - To toil is play. - - The ship has come, I must no longer tarry; - The lamp of love for you will ever burn; - Farewell, pray let your soul be merry, - Soon I’ll return. - - When I return, what e’er may be my treasure-- - That happy day I pray God that we meet-- - My life, my all, I’ll cast with pleasure - Down at your feet. - - He said “Good-bye”--the tears were swiftly falling-- - The ship moved off, she left alone to dwell; - The signal as they sounded pealing - Their last farewell. - - - - - A TEST OF LOVE. - - - The land of Avia, lovely is the scene, - Clothed every evening in a silvery sheen; - The rippling brook and birds make music clear, - Wild flowers bloom in plenty all the year, - And mistletoe’s the largest tree that’s found, - It’s roots embedded firmly in the ground. - In vales of mistle, ’long the Aztec shore, - Stand board-roofed huts, numbering but a score; - The largest one is Haggar’s--well in years; - No happier man in all the place appears. - His daughter, Alice, simple, pure and good, - And loved by all in that fair neighborhood. - Of all the youths that came to woo her love - No voice but Ed’s could cause her heart to move. - Ed Lassiters, son of a magistrate, - Was loved by all, and no one could he hate; - In peace and love he served the village long, - And no one e’er complained he’d done them wrong; - And Ed, his son, a steady, sober youth, - Was famed throughout the village for his truth. - Alice loved Ed; when children it was seen - That Ed loved her and held her as his queen. - Together they were always seen at play. - What e’er she willed it pleased Ed to obey; - “My doll, a house,” was all she had to speak, - For sticks and bark at once Ed went to seek; - To bake mud cakes more water she’ demand; - Ed quickly brought and placed it at her hand. - In all their play they were not seen to pout; - Always in love there was no falling out. - Each day to school they hand in hand would go, - Her books and slate Ed carried to and fro; - Each Sunday morn the chapel bell would chime, - And Ed with Alice marched away on time; - To church at night Alice alone he’d bring, - And from one book both in the choir would sing. - The childish love that bound them when at play - To greater love soon yielded up its sway. - Were children once, but ah, no children now; - Ed was a farmer, master of the plow; - Alice, a maid, how skilful at the loom, - And all affairs pertaining to the home; - Once close they lived, but now three miles apart; - But miles cannot divide true heart from heart. - The village lads loved well the maiden dear, - But knew their love and would not interfere; - So hand in hand through life they always went, - So lovingly, so happy, so content. - But, ah, if he had known the pain to come, - He would have had her safely in his home. - To Avia came a family seeking health; - A noble family; great, too, was their wealth; - A man and wife, a son, the darling joy; - John his name, and handsome was the boy. - He saw the maid, and love came at the sight; - To win her love he sought with all his might. - Soon she loved John and soon he loved the maid, - So swift is love when gold can give it aid. - And since that day the youth came from the north - Ed’s cloak of love had keenly felt a moth. - E’er on his face there dwelt a heavy frown; - Each day he passed his head was hanging down. - And all the village wondered as he passed - What made the change, what made him so downcast. - Each Sunday morn he strolled alone to church; - We sympathized--we knew it grieved him much; - As when the ivy from the oak we tear. - It seemeth lonely, ah! it seemeth bare. - So ’twas with Ed when they were seen apart, - He seemed e’er sad, so withered was his heart. - He loved her still, and each time he would call - He plead in vain that she would love him all. - Each night Ed called each night both lovers met; - They’d try in vain each other to outset. - When on her face Ed read her heart’s desire - He’d ask his hat, reluctantly retire. - Poor Ed, from youth could see her any time, - Now once a week his visits were confined. - Each youth desired the maid to be his bride; - She loved them both, and how could she decide. - Three months had passed--the choice she had not made; - With bashful face she sought her mother’s aid. - She hinted out the burden of her heart; - Her loving mother knew the other part. - “Oh, Ed and John,” she said, with trembling voice, - “I love them both and cannot make a choice; - Three months in vain the choice I’ve tried to make; - It’s left with you mother, which one to take.” - The mother thought awhile and slowly said: - “I cannot choose the man for you to wed, - For much is in the saying of the bard: - ’Make your own bed and keep it if it’s hard;’ - So make your choice; if he’s not what he seems - On no one else can you well place the blame. - Since I’m your ma, advice ’tis mine to give: - With whom you choose through life pray try to live, - For they who wed and quit without a cause - Have broken o’er our Holy Father’s laws. - Unless you can for him lay down your life - Never, my child, consent to be his wife, - For married life is greater than a dream, - And all have found it greater than it seemed. - To know the one whose love is pure and best, - I think it right to bring him to a test. - How can you judge from the word the greater love? - Does rain tell all that it has seen above? - What steed an empty wagon cannot pull? - Ah, place him to a wagon that is full. - The many words! but, ah, the simple few, - Can have a great effect if spoken true. - The sweetest words make not the greatest youth, - Ah, he is great who sayest but the truth. - The world to-day is so enrapt with sin, - That it is right with women and with men, - Before they be exalted in our sight, - We must have great assurance they are right. - So Ed and John seem good, I love them well; - The one for you to choose I cannot tell. - The way to find the one to suit you best, - Put life at stake and give them both a test, - For he who takes a maiden for his wife - Should count it joy to give for her his life.” - She knew that neither Ed nor John could swim; - To try the deep would be a test for them. - She thought how each of them enjoyed to row. - She said: “Some day, while rowing, drop your oar, - And tell him bring the oar you’ll be his bride; - First let the oar ’neath the boat be tied; - Engage them now, go quick and tie the oar.” - One came at three, the other came at four. - I feign to tell them what the mother said; - So great the plot when by a woman made. - She set the time, and John and Ed complied; - The evening came and John was by her side. - With John she goes, as though she loved him best, - Out in the boat that she his love might test. - From youth she knew the art to dive and swim; - ’Twas all a secret, ’t was not known to him. - They reached the deep where angry billows roar; - She for a purpose dropped her only oar. - Out from the boat the oar the waves did toss; - The maid screamed out in anguish, “We are lost!” - The oar was fairly whirling by a wave; - The frightened maid knelt praying God to save. - The coward youth sat trembling pale as death; - His face had changed, it seemed he had no breath. - The maid knelt still, pretending loud to weep. - But through her fingers at the youth she’d peep. - She saw the youth still fainting in dismay; - She would have laughed, but thought she would betray. - She raised her head, the oar again she spied; - Beneath the boat the oar with cord was tied. - She really cried, for lo! her face was red, - “John, bring the oar, I’ll be your wife,” she said. - But John sat still, for he could not obey; - “I cannot swim,” was all she heard him say. - She bade him think, she bade him count the cost; - “Without the oar won’t both our lives be lost? - If you sit here is death not sure?” she said. - John knew it was, and cowardly dropped his head. - With trembling voice she cried, imploring still: - “Go, bring the oar; if you won’t, John, I will. - What will you do?” She paused to give him time. - He would not go; she leaped into the brine; - She sank and rose, and loudly came a sound: - “Pray come and help! quick! love, for soon I drown!” - John saw his love the third time disappear; - She cried in vain, for John refused to steer. - Again she rose and quickly seized the oar, - Towards the boat the oar she swiftly bore. - Soon in the boat, dripping, she took her seat, - As John sat cowardly gazing at her feet; - Then to the shore she quickly made her way; - She reached the shore, to him was heard to say: - “The oar wasn’t lost; by this thread it was tied; - My life to you I’m thinking to confide.” - And this she said: “I did it just to prove - Whether or not you’re worthy of my love.” - She told him all, and said: “John can’t you see - That you are false and do not care for me.” - And John stood crying, begging not to tell; - She vowed she’d not, and said to him farewell. - He went his way and she sat on the beach-- - I’ll tell you why before the end is reached-- - ’Twas nearly four, and Ed, her other beau, - Had promised then to meet her for a row. - The hour had come, the village clock was heard; - Ah! Ed was there; he always kept his word. - Up from the beach she rose, her friend to greet; - She had not heard the tramping of his feet. - Soon in the boat they both sat face to face; - She took the oar as though out for a race; - Then with the oar she gave the sea a sweep, - And soon the boat was sailing on the deep; - “Here comes a ship; look, Ed, I see the top.” - He turned his head, the oar she did let drop. - “Dear Ed,” she cried, “pray take me to my home; - I dropped the oar and death is sure our doom.” - He gazed at her and saw her faint away. - “Don’t cry, my dear,” she softly heard him say; - He raised her head, consoling words he speaks, - Brushed back her hair and kissed her rosy cheeks; - Pretended she unconscious of a kiss; - Yet still her soul was thrilled with holy bliss. - He raised her gently in a fond embrace, - And gently wipes her tear-stained, blushing face, - The tears upon her rosy cheek repose - Appeared like sparkling dewdrops on a rose. - As men in hurrying pressed for want of time, - Can find a moment still to sip the wine, - So hurried Ed, for fear the oar he’d miss, - Yet still found time, yea, thrice, her lips to kiss; - Just as a man is moved by sparkling drinks - Performs an act before of danger thinks. - The kiss affected Ed as strongest wine; - He could not swim, yet did not fear the brine; - He did not stop for once to count the cost, - Nor thought he once that either would be lost. - He said, unless his queen should reach the shore, - Out of his arm he would have made an oar; - Then from the boat he leaped, and could not swim; - An angry wave came quick and covered him. - Strangled he rose, though struggling for his life, - He cried aloud: “O, God, pray, save my wife!” - He did not drown, for she well knew the art, - And leaped and bore him speechless to her heart. - Hold of the cord the oar she quickly drew; - Yet, brought the oar she said he never knew; - He really thought he saved his lover’s life. - He woke and cried aloud: “You are my wife.” - For when he sank he was a senseless elf; - To-day he thinks he brought the oar himself. - And when she saw how artless was his love - The love within her heart was felt to move; - Where there is love much love it doth inspire, - Thus blazed her love and set his soul on fire. - It seemed as love her heart would ’sunder rent, - Unless by hasty means could give it vent; - For when love’s heart is free from doubt and fear - It sayeth much that love would feign to hear. - Thus went the time until the glowing west - Was telling that the sun had gone to rest. - They reached the shore, though he was soaking wet, - Before they left, the wedding day was set. - Three weeks passed on, the blessed eve drew near, - The wedding bells were chiming loud and clear. - That night they vowed to love and serve through life; - There never lived a happier man and wife. - In Mistle still to-day there can be seen - A thatch-roofed house, twined round with ivy green; - Upon the lawn a boy and girl at play-- - This is the home where Ed and Alice stay. - - - - - A BALM FOR WEARY MINDS. - - - What a balm for the mind’s the joyous spring, - What fragrant nectar its breezes bring; - How the babbling brook and the birds we hear, - Lull the heart from worry, the soul from fear; - What magnet power its measures hold - To keep the soul from growing old! - What joy upon the turf to lie - And watch the fleeting butterfly, - To hear the bee as it buzzes by; - The humming bees as they go and come, - Sipping honey from the bloom. - Wake, fainting heart, around thee look, - Stroll through the woods, sit by the brook, - And hear it clatter, laugh and sing, - A flood of hope to you ’twill bring. - Look, see the orchard a mass of snow, - Sending the fragrance by the winds that blow; - Drink deep of its joys, on its fragrance fill, - That thy soul may stand cold winter’s chill. - Look at the daisies, see them bend, - Giving their fragrance to each wind; - The lilies in their lovely array - Think of the words the sowers say: - Toil not, spin not, yet how they grow, - So fragrant and spotless and whiter than snow. - List to the thrush up in the trees, - The song of the cuckoo, the hum of the bees; - The tame and wild flowers, drink deep their sweet scent, - Surely thy sad heart will then be content. - On springtime’s fair bosom rest thy aching head, - Who cannot feel springtime surely is dead. - - - - - TELL ME, DEEP OCEAN. - - - Tell me, deep ocean, why not be still, - Why not this surging cease, - Why shouldst thou sing this mournful sound, - And why not hold thy peace? - - Is it a tale of love you sing, - Tell me, oh mighty deep; - What some poor sailor bade thee bring, - Just as he sank to sleep? - - If so, I yearn to know thy song, - Pray, make it known, oh wave; - I had a lover, brave and strong, - Who met a sailor’s grave. - - I yearn to know his parting words, - Were they not told to thee? - If so, I pray thee make them known, - Pray tell, were they of me? - - - - - SHOULD I SPY LOVE. - - - If I should chance to spy love far at sea, - With outstretched arm beckoning unto me; - Though I bereft complete of spar and sail, - ’Twould not prevail. - - - - - IF LOVE COULD SEE. - - - If love could see each other’s heart, - And read the truth which they impart; - Much doubt and fears it would relieve, - No love would e’er have ought to grieve. - - - - - TEMPTATION. - - - Since I got ’ligion - Tryin’ to do what’s right - Devil, jus’ to temp’ me, - Keeps ol’ sin in sight. - - Farmers plant th’ir melons - Jam up ’gin the fence; - Leave the hen-coops open - Like they got no sense. - - Man who own the orch’rd - Don mov’ off to town; - Peaches an’ the apples - Rot’nin’ on the groun.’ - - In a trap th’s mornin’ - By the ’simmon tree, - Saw a grea’ big ’possum, - Fat as he cou’d be. - - Wou’d ’ve got th’t ’possum - Eph--he’d never kno’, - Th’t his trap co’t him, - Got a ’ligion tho’. - - People got no bus’ness - Fo’ to temp’ a man; - ’Fusin’ water-melons - More th’n I can stan’. - - If theys out th’re waitin’ - T’night whin I com’ ’long, - They shan’t teach no oth’r - Christ’an to go ’rong. - - Sally bake a hoe cake; - Get the kittle hot. - Goin’ bring back a chicken - If I don’t git shot. - - * * * * * - -I find in Mr. McGirt’s verses a meaning and accent which belong only to -the true poet. - -(Mrs.) REBECCA HARDING DAVIS. - - * * * * * - -Mr. McGirt’s poetry is spontaneous, natural and true. - -(Mrs.) MARGARET E. SANGSTER. - - * * * * * - -My Dear Mr. McGirt: Your verses indicate talent. I see no reason why you -should not have a great deal of success. - -Sincerely Yours, -(Mrs.) ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. - - * * * * * - -Mr. James E. McGirt: - -Dear Sir:--You show in these verses a talent for putting thoughts into -literary form ... very rare. I have found the sentiment of the poems -always pure and orthodox--often sweet and touching; there is a -simplicity about them which wins the reader’s attention.... - -I remain sincerely yours, -JULIAN HAWTHORNE. - - * * * * * - -You show a great deal of talent in your poems. I find them very -interesting and sweet. - -THOMAS NELSON PAGE. - - * * * * * - -Mr. James E. McGirt, Philadelphia, - -My Dear Sir:--I have given some spare hours to the reading of your -poems, which you were kind enough to furnish me in volume and -manuscript. It is gratifying to me to find one of your race aim -to advance or excel in literary efforts. I was specially pleased with -the merits of your poems, which should certainly command a large circle -of readers, not only among your own people, but among all lovers of -genuine poetic effort. - -Yours truly, -(Col.) A. K. McCLURE. - -[Illustration] - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of For Your Sweet Sake, by -James E. 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