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diff --git a/old/54271.txt b/old/54271.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9682d11..0000000 --- a/old/54271.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6450 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Carols of Canada, Etc., Etc., by Mrs. -Elizabeth S. (MacQueen) MacLeod - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: Carols of Canada, Etc., Etc. - - -Author: Mrs. Elizabeth S. (MacQueen) MacLeod - - - -Release Date: March 2, 2017 [eBook #54271] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAROLS OF CANADA, ETC., ETC.*** - - -E-text prepared by Larry B. Harrison, Brian Wilsden, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images -generously made available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 54271-h.htm or 54271-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/54271/54271-h/54271-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/54271/54271-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - https://archive.org/details/carolsofcanadaet00maclrich - - -Transcriber's note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=). - - - - - -[Illustration: - - Sincerely yours - E. S. MacLeod] - - -CAROLS OF CANADA -ETC., ETC. - -by - -MRS. MACLEOD - -[Illustration] - - - - - - -Charlottetown, P. E. I. -Printed by John Coombs, Queen Street -1893 - -Entered according to Act of Parliament, in the year 1893, -By Elizabeth S. MacLeod, -In the Office of the Minister of Agriculture. - - - - - To - The Honourable - Sir Donald A. Smith, - K. C. M. G., LL. D. - - Who, with the more than regal right - Of generous heart, and princely hand - Hath fostered learning in our land; - And set it on the highest height. - - Who faileth not 'fore certain test - Of faith supreme--true zeal for man; - Who, working out supernal plan, - Doth serve his God and country best,-- - - These Carols of Canada, etc., etc., - are - Most Respectfully Inscribed. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -In sending forth these gleanings from the later compositions of my few -leisure hours, I take the opportunity of thanking most sincerely those -many friends who have so generously subscribed for the work. Not only -has their kind appreciation caused me to realize that I am no longer a -stranger in a strange land, but also, that I possess the whole-souled -sympathy of not a few, in this the country of my adoption. - -Many are the tender memories which unite me to the olden land: a land -for ever hallowed as the quiet resting-place of the loved dead, and -the once happy home of a love-encircled childhood. Still, I cannot but -deplore the many evils existing therein; more especially that evil of a -system which places the greater number at the mercy of the fewer--the -debasing system of extensive landlordism; a system which may have -suited in those former periods when kingdoms and positions were mainly -dependent upon force of arms, but for which there can be no plausible -apology in this progressive, and pretentiously humanizing age; and if -any words of mine shall induce the tyrant-crushed and woe-oppressed of -other climes to raise their eyes towards the setting sun, and to seek a -home in this Canada,--this God-appointed haven, these words shall not -have been penned in vain. - -I cherish the utmost faith in the future of Canada--faith which leads -me to look beyond my little day and view her, with ample resources -still developing, with invitations of welcome still extended, a -full-grown nation of intelligent, enterprising and generous-souled -people, more glorious by far than the world-renowned empires of the -past; a nation unfettered from bigotry of sect, envy of position, -and clannishness of clime; a nation whose belief is in the eternal -fatherhood of God, and the universal brotherhood of humanity; a nation -whose every act of every day life is the pure and lofty exponent of a -Christly Christianity, and in whose healthy moral atmosphere vice with -its attendant train of evils cannot exist; a nation upon which, over -all its boundless pasture lands and by its many sounding shores, the -sun of Freedom shines, and the honest, earnest worshipper bendeth never -a humble knee save to fair Freedom's God. - - E. S. MACLEOD. - - CHARLOTTETOWN, NOV. 1893. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - PAGE. - CAROLS OF CANADA: - CANADA 3 - THE FOUNDING OF MONTREAL 5 - THE HUNTSMAN 7 - CAPE LE FORCE 9 - SISTER ST. THOMAS 14 - THE MESSAGE 20 - HIS OFFERING 21 - LOUISBURG, 1745 22 - THE WOODS AND THE SEA 24 - THE GATE 26 - THE HIDING-PLACE 29 - A CHRISTMAS MEMORY 31 - THE IMMIGRANT'S APPEAL 33 - THE QUEEN'S JUBILEE 34 - POINT PRIM 38 - ORWELL BAY 39 - GOING ABROAD 41 - THE STUDENT 42 - THE PIONEER 46 - THE OLDEN FLAG 53 - - IDYLLS OF THE YEAR: - THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW 57 - SPRING 60 - SUMMER 62 - AUTUMN 63 - WINTER 64 - EASTER 65 - THANKSGIVING 66 - CHRISTMAS EVE 67 - CHRISTMAS 70 - - THE SIEGE OF QUEBEC 73 - - PERSONAL: - OUR QUEEN 91 - PRINCESS OF WALES 92 - PRINCE GEORGE 94 - GLADSTONE 95 - SIR J. A. MACDONALD 96 - HON. ALEX. MACKENZIE 97 - IN MEMORIAM 98 - BISHOP MACINTYRE 99 - BISHOP BROOKS 101 - AFTER MANY YEARS 102 - TENNYSON 102 - SPURGEON 104 - BEECHER 105 - ALLELUIA 107 - "THREE YEARS" 108 - THE EVENING STAR 109 - - RHYMES OF ANCIENT ROME: - HORATIUS, B.C., 650 113 - PYRRHUS, B.C., 280 116 - MARIUS, B.C., 86 118 - BRUTUS, B.C., 42 122 - MARCUS CURTIUS 125 - - CRAWFURD CASTLE 131 - - SONGS OF SCOTIA: - THE SCOTCH GATHERING 141 - SKYE 143 - BONNIE DUNDEE 143 - THE HEATHERBELL 147 - BONNIER 148 - THE DOCTOR'S FEE 149 - THE VISION 153 - LOCH KATRINE 154 - CONTENT 156 - - MISCELLANEOUS: - COLUMBUS 161 - TIME AND ETERNITY 163 - THE TREE 164 - THE SHIPWRECK 167 - DE PROFUNDIS 168 - ECLIPSE OF THE MOON 169 - ERIN'S ADDRESS TO FREEDOM 170 - THE GIFT 172 - EVER FAITHFUL 172 - THE HIRED BOY 173 - LAURELS 178 - ST. PATRICK'S DAY 179 - TO THE POET 181 - TO THE OCEAN 182 - THE ORANGE 183 - ST. ANDREW'S DAY 184 - GOOD BYE AND GOOD NIGHT 187 - THE ROSE 188 - HOME FROM SCHOOL 189 - TO H. M. S. "BLAKE" 191 - RETROSPECT 192 - - NOTES 197 - - - - -CAROLS OF CANADA. - - - - -[Illustration] - -CANADA. - - - Oh Canada! great Canada! - Land of all lands to be; - Farewell to lays of olden clime! - We touch the lyre for thee. - For thee, Oh gracious, morning land! - Through cycles of renown - Thy leal of heart, and firm of hand - Shall guard thy spotless crown. - - Exhaustless, boundless Canada! - Thy myriad forests wave; - Thy snow-capped mountains cleave the skies; - Thy shores, two oceans lave. - Thy sea-wide lakes, thy rivers bold - Are worlds of crystal sheen; - And vast as empires famed of old - Thy prairies, rolling green. - - Oh fair and beauteous Canada! - Aneath thy sapphire sky, - Gay-plumaged warblers wing their flight - O'er flowers of gorgeous dye, - Which own no faint, exotic blush - Of Care's trim, training hand; - Rich dowered of health, with nature's flush, - They brighten all the land. - - Yet, not thy beauty, Canada, - Could hold thy people's love; - Yet not thy vastness, nor thy might - Could soul of nations move. - But this, that o'er thy gleaming lakes, - And through thy waving pines, - The glory of a future breaks; - The sun of freedom shines. - - Thou may'st not boast, fair Canada! - The soft, spice-laden breeze; - Or palm of Ethiopian land, - Or pearl of Ceylon seas. - Yet thine no dread, samiel curse, - To blight thy emerald plains; - Thine only wholesome air, to nurse - Pure blood in patriot veins. - - Thou may'st not point, young Canada! - To sumptuous mosques of pride; - Or watery highways, where with song, - The gay gondolas glide. - But thine, beneath wide starry dome, - Along ten thousand streams, - O'er many a league of richest loam, - To animate life dreams. - - Thou opest, regal Canada! - Floodgates off either sea; - And tyrant-crushed, and crushed of fate, - Find peaceful rest in thee. - Upon thy generous-yielding sward, - And round thy teeming coast, - Just labor finds its just award; - Nor heart of hope is lost. - - Oh high-souled! hopeful Canada! - Long may thy banner wave - O'er soil where will to work is gold, - Nor man nor mind is slave. - God's grace thee further, loved land! - Live thou thy high behest! - So shalt thou 'mid the nations stand - Erect; through blessing blest. - - - - -SIEUR DE MAISONNEUVE, - -OR - -THE FOUNDING OF MONTREAL. - - - Tho' rough be the path thou art destined to tread, - Let courage and truth be thy stay; - Thy course be straight onward, aye looking ahead, - Doubt not, neither droop by the way. - Who spanned the wide ocean, who narrowed the soil, - With spirits untrammeled of fear, - Have found, through the struggle, the sorrow, the toil, - Sure help from on high ever near. - - He had ta'en his last look of those terraced hills - Where the golden and green intertwine; - Where song of the peasant doth sing in the rills, - As he gleaneth the fruit of the vine. - He had breathed fond adieux to his own loved land, - A land of rare science and art; - Where learning's vast treasure to genius lends hand, - And knowledge ennobleth the heart. - - Aglow with the fire of a heavenly grace, - He had sailed for the ice drift and snow; - With vigor of purpose had ventured his face - To yet fiercer, more deadly foe. - To the darkening scowl of the dusky crew - He would radiate beams of love; - Would labor and bide, with his well-chosen few, - The unction bestowed from above. - - They told him of brothers who perished before; - Of the tortures of savage hate; - Vain pleading! it stirred but his courage the more - To conquer, or share in their fate. - Not his to recall, with a sigh of regret, - Those voices far over the main; - Where the sun of his brilliant boyhood set, - On the banks of the royal Seine. - - Not his to feel faint on the thorniest path, - Or to shrink whate'er might betide: - They know not, or heed not humanity's wrath - Who are vowed to the Crucified. - He gazed on the shore, with its dark fringe of pine; - To the heavens, with bright disc on the blue; - Then, lightened his vision with rapture divine; - The future arose to his view. - - "I shall go," said he, "unto Montreal - Though each tree were an Iroquois!" - And the God of the dauntless hearkened his call, - The God of the martyred ones saw. - Now the great city smiles where the grim forest loomed, - And the red man boweth the knee; - And the Cross which was trampled in triumph hath bloomed - From mountain to uttermost sea. - - - - -THE HUNTSMAN. - - - 'Twas in the lone, uncultured wilds - Of far Assiniboia, - Ere commerce took its giant stride - From east to western sea. - From grasp of lordly tyranny - Came brave and sturdy band; - The sons of sires who framed the old, - To build the fair, new land. - - The red men tracked the hunter's path - Through miles of gloomy wood; - And now, with whoop and fiendish yell, - Before their victim stood. - With rifle shot he kept his ground, - And held the foe at bay; - Yet, what avail his single strength! - Ten times his number they. - - He leaped upon a rocky ledge - Which overhung the wave; - Far kindlier fate than scalping-knife, - The risk of watery grave. - He glanced towards his precious haven - Upon its patch of green; - He saw his loved ones by the door, - But--the river rolled between. - - Another saw; love prompted wit; - Upon the grassy floor - She laid her babe, then fleetly sought - The wherry by the shore. - With strong, young arm she plied the oar; - The waters twirl and toss; - 'Tis vain! beneath that cataract - No human power may cross. - - List! through the noisome, seething surge, - A voice of hope and cheer: - "Leap in, and swim adown the stream, - I'll meet you--never fear!" - The current bears the slight skiff on, - The Indians' arrows fly, - But the huntsman's form is seen no more - Against that lurid sky. - - For he hath plunged into the foam - And, borne upon the tide, - Is now beyond all chance of harm, - His brave wife by his side. - Saved by that faith-inspiring Love - Which glorifies the hearth; - Which amply fills with choice-drawn wealth, - And crowns the loves of earth. - - - - -CAPE LE FORCE. - - - Where frowning bulwarks guard the coast - Around our sea-girt Isle, - Where wildest winters wreak their wrath, - And sweetest summers smile. - - In holy calm of eventide - Which crowned the sunbright day, - We sat upon a grassy knoll - That overlooked the bay. - - All glorious the lingering light - From out the radiant west, - As loath to leave a scene so fair, - Illumined ocean's crest. - - Along the path, with quiet tread, - There came an aged form - Whose sunburnt features told that he - Had weathered many a storm. - - He'd held command in goodly craft - On nigh and far off seas; - Had furled the sail on foreign strand, - And scoured 'fore every breeze. - - Now, 'yond all lure of worldly wealth - Through commerce on the foam, - He anchored where affection set, - Within his childhood's home. - - Nor tide, nor wind, nor black storm-cloud - Could bar his passage more, - As he waited sailing orders - For glad Beulah's shore. - - We asked him, as he rested near, - If he the story knew - Of that bleak, lonely cape which stretched - Upon our right hand view. - - "I can relate," he said, "the tale - My grandsire told to me:-- - It happened in the year of grace - Seventeen sixty-three. - - "That year the Isle of St. Jean - Was ceded, this you know, - To Britain, in the treaty signed - By France, at Fontainebleau. - - "French privateers, which robbed our coast, - Were harassed by our men; - McKenzie, with a British sloop - Unaided, captured ten. - - "One, fleeter than the rest escaped, - Commanded by Le Force; - In dread of foes, or unknown seas, - He held a leeward course. - - "But all too fast the gallant ship - Bore down towards the bay; - Caught on deceitful shifting sands, - A stranded wreck she lay. - - "The boats made shore, the crew dispersed, - One officer remained - With his commander, and large share - Of ill-won booty gained. - - "On yonder cape they pitched a tent, - And from the vessel's store - In haste, with slightest interval, - Much precious freight they bore. - - "But where 'twas hid no mortal knew; - Folk say within yon grove, - Whose crowding giants dull the day, - Exists the treasure-trove. - - "Be't so or not, to me it seems - This cursed greed of gold - Shuts all the finer feelings out, - Deforms life's fairest mould. - - "Rends rare affection's dearest ties, - Transforms the friend to foe; - In battlefield of worldly gain - Smites with unsparing blow. - - "Repels all humanizing love; - In haste to reach its goal, - Draws even from gates of paradise - The earnest, God-ward soul. - - "Two daring youths, from hamlet nigh, - Through motives curious, went - When friendly even lent its shades, - Anear the strangers' tent. - - "They heard dispute o'er money hoard, - Then louder, wrathful tones, - Which hotter, higher, waxed until - They sunk in low, faint moans. - - "Next morn three sturdy fishermen - Steered out across the wave; - They heeded not the swelling surge, - Their hearts were firm and brave. - - "But, Oh! what vision met their gaze! - Upon that silent shore - The Captain of the stranded bark - Lay stiffening in his gore. - - "Far from his loved in _La Belle France_, - Far from his native plain; - Where longing eyes, and yearning hearts - Might long for him in vain. - - "He died not as the soldier dies; - For country and for king; - For him no martial banners wave, - No lyre his praise doth sing. - - "Rough hands, but souls of sympathy, - Entombed him where he fell; - While sounding ocean wailed his dirge, - And wavelets rang his knell. - - "Now, until ocean yields her dead, - Till dries yon river's source, - That cape, baptized with his blood, - Shall bear the name 'Le Force.'" - - He paused. "What of the murderer? - And what to him befell?" - "He fled, from that dread hour of guilt - No tongue his fate could tell. - - "No legal technicality - Could paint _his_ black as white, - Or color with a golden tinge - The blackness of his night. - - "Though richly-garbed, accomplished vice - May bide the Final Day; - With brutal, prompt, unstudied crime - The law brooks no delay. - - "His was no deed of villain art - Which slowly works its will, - Which wiles its victim to his death, - And slays with callous skill. - - "It may be that a Higher Judge - Could measure best his crime; - And that, through penitence he found - Pardon and peace in time." - - The sun had sunk beneath the wave, - The moon had risen on high; - And glorified, with silvery beams, - The earth, and sea, and sky. - - Light zephyrs thrilled on ocean's chords, - Through wavelet's hum and flow; - Alas! that scene surpassing fair, - Should sin or sorrow know. - - Alas! that guilt, or causeless woe - Should darken nature's smile; - As that foul deed, the first to blight - With crime Prince Edward Isle. - - - - -SISTER ST. THOMAS. - - -I. - - Bright beauty of northern winter! - The sun, with its tenderest glow, - Gilded the haze of the housetops, - Warm-tinted earth's mantle of snow. - - Flashed forth the crystalline branches, - Bedazzling of jewelry rare; - Rich set in radiance of splendor, - Choice pearlets of nature's own wear. - - Dark night with its gloom had faded, - Fair morning its halo unfurled; - Yet stirred not the solemn silence - With the hum of a waking world. - - Unheard was the sound of labor, - Mute--hushed was the voice of the street; - Only the tread of passers by, - Who stayed not their hastening feet. - - Only half whispers, curt replies - To eager questions, doubtful given; - For hearts were awed with sudden fear, - For dearest ties of earth were riven. - - Soft cloudlets afloat on the blue, - Pure wreaths of the shimmering snow, - Re-uttered in language sublime, - The breathings of unwonted woe. - - Alas, for the dreaming of life! - Though heard not the roll of the drum, - Nor witnessed the ensign of war, - A merciless tyrant had come. - - Strife is no strife ill-divided - When man fighteth frail brother-man; - But war is a warfare unequal - When giant force leadeth one van. - - What marvel that mortals shrank back, - That science e'en held bated breath;-- - Over the lights of our dwellings - There hovered the angel of death. - - The flags which drooped from the windows, - And waved in the winterly sun, - Signalled fierce battle was raging, - But told not of victory won. - - They were no flags of our nation, - No tri-colored red, white and blue; - Heralds of hope, or of freedom, - Beamed not in their pale, saffron hue. - - -II. - - Inside the new oped lazar-house, - Where sick and dying, plague-struck, lay, - - Skill sought to baffle foul disease, - Yet still the dismal blight made way. - - Sore lack of helpful, nursing hands - Was keenly felt within those walls; - Since selfish dread had closed the soul - To lucre's bribe, or mercy's calls. - - Had closed the soul of all save those - Whose life is but to do His will; - Who fear not Afric's burning sands, - Nor Javan swamp, nor Iceland chill. - - Three Sisters, vowed to charity, - Out of the well trained city band; - Skilled nurses[Note] they, and fit prepared, - Came forward as with life in hand. - - When, shame to tell, their proffered aid - Was scouted; reason urgeth why? - Search not dim aisles of bigotry, - Sift thou thy soul for just reply. - - Oh, narrow bounded prejudice! - Hedged round of a Christian name, - Thou low, dim burning altar light! - Unlit of celestial flame. - - Right royal blood in honor's cause, - Red stains the patriot battle field; - Thou slay'st thy myriads for naught, - God in the conscience may not yield. - - Thou! blind and selfish prejudice; - Vile, murky source of endless strife; - Know that a world reviving faith - Doth blossom into fruitful life. - - -III. - - Still raged the dreaded pestilence, - And still the quiet stars of night - Beamed down upon the obsequies - Of those who perished in the fight. - - 'Mid comfort of our peaceful homes, - We heard the rattle of the car - Which bore the vanquished from the scene - Of bloodless, but relentless war. - - For them no sacred bell was tolled, - Nor rose the chant of plaintive psalm; - Yet through deep mists shone guiding light - From cruel cross, to blissful palm. - - Within the City Hospital, - With satchel in her willing hand, - She waited, as a soldier waits, - Intent to hear his lord's command. - - She knew that fickle human aid - When sought at risks is sought in vain; - That in no human breast exists - Will to encounter death or pain. - - "And can'st thou think to go?" I said, - "When all thy purposes of good - Were balked by callous ignorance, - Close-linked with base ingratitude." - - She looked me calmly in the face; - A shade, which noted sad surprise - Stole o'er her placid countenance, - And spake from out her gentle eyes. - - Her answer echoes down the years, - Illumes the hall in which she sat, - Breaks through all cant of class or creed:-- - "_Those sick must not suffer for that._." - - -IV. - - Just then a messenger was hailed; - To God and to their mission true, - Firm-souled, went out to meet the plague - She and devoted sisters two. - - Emblazoned in archives of light - Those titles no worldling may hold; - Whilst their star, in our nether sky, - Shines forth in a circlet of gold. - - With practised eye, and tender hand, - With quiet mien, and noiseless tread, - They grappled with the dire disease, - Or soothed the sufferer's dying bed. - - They listed, with a patient mind, - The longings of the exiled one; - - Or treasured, for a mother's ear, - The last faint accents of her son. - - Yea! all along that tardy night, - Black with the bitterness of woe, - They toiled in unison with those - Whose skill[Note] and courage foiled the foe. - - Fame proudly vaunts her hero dead; - Ambition's tools, in glory's van; - Thrice worthy he of lasting wreath, - Who lives for God, and dies for man. - - Ah me! for the silent martyr - Whose tireless feet so surely trod - The pathway leading on and up - Towards the city of our God. - - The poison draught entered her blood; - In brightness of Spring's early day - Sister St. Thomas bowed her head, - And passed from her labors for aye. - - I know that 'yond the swelling surge, - She reached that tideless, tranquil shore, - Where faith finds anchor nigh its source, - And storms of time are heard no more. - - I know that robed in spotless white, - Her pure soul on Mount Zion stands; - And yet I see her as she sat - With satchel in her willing hands. - - Ho, peerless crown! Ho, fadeless palm! - Bright land where ransomed spirits be! - True love to God with love to man, - Ensures a blessed eternity. - - - - -THE MESSAGE. - - - Ye sweet summer birds! in your flight - Afar o'er the southern sea, - Will ye stoop from your aerified height - To whisper my lover of me? - - Again will ye hoist your bright wing - When ice-fields unloose from our shore; - New tunes through the woodlands shall ring;-- - Those tones! shall I hear never more? - - Remind him that low in the sky - Sails the god of the long summer day; - That later the glory-glints hie - From their couch, with its curtains of gray. - - Yet--tell him through nature's vast range, - Reaped harvests, ripe forests aflame;-- - Oh! tell him, through oceans of change, - I'll love him forever, the same. - - - - -HIS OFFERING. - - - "Where's mother?" and with eager haste - He bore Love's offering; - The first, bright flowers which oped their eyes; - Sweet heralds of the Spring. - - Those tiny stars which dot with light - The young year's tender green; - As silvery tapers gem the doole - Of evening's sable screen. - - Ho! worlding of the callous mind! - Deem this a trifling thing? - O'er little deeds of loyal love - Great mother-love doth sing. - - More precious from those chubby hands, - Those sweet, wild flowers of Spring, - Than priceless jewels from the store - Of coroneted king. - -[Illustration] - - - - -LOUISBURG--1745. - -"Unbridled appetite was followed by deadly fever, and before Spring -1200 of Peperell's men filled graves in the conquered soil." - - - Brave maiden-love! bright sister-faith! - Of this Columbian land, - Why should fair youth, as tidal wreck, - Drift up on either strand? - Ye mothers! when your sons set sail - On life's tempestuous seas, - Why pray ye Heaven's propitious calm - To quell each rising breeze? - - If haste for fame, or wealth of lore, - Or thirst for worldly pelf - Be set above that priceless boon, - The power to conquer self. - To guard that no insidious foe - The citadel shall win; - To note, as quick-eared sentinel, - The first approach of sin. - - The surges tossed in seething foam - Upon that rock-bound shore; - Yet the brave men of New England - Down to the leeward bore. - The Frenchman's warning gun booms forth, - The heavy seas resound; - What reck they! with determined mien - They tread the solid ground. - - Mere raw recruits and all untrained - In stratagem of war, - - Not Gallia's veterans, skilled in arms, - Their landing place might bar. - Through hardships dire and manifold - They upward, onward press; - On, till the blossomings of hope - Are fruited with success. - - And all through proud New England, - And far across the wave, - The name of Massachusetts - And of her soldier brave - Is linked with joy and feasting; - While Britain's fair renown - Gleams fairer for the added gem, - Which decks her ancient crown. - - More bright the clear, translucent sky, - More dense the shadows fall; - More glorious the spirits glow, - More black the dismal pall; - Oft, through celestial sunlight, - Breaks forth dull thunder shower; - Oft, over brilliant visionings - Dark disappointments lower. - - So, in first flush of triumph, - Crept in an artful foe, - Whose craft and daring overcame - Without one open blow. - More certain than the Gascon shot - In siege, on field of war; - And deadlier than the scalping knife - Of subtle Indian, far. - - And those brave, who never faltered - Before a human form, - Who never shrank from danger's path, - Or cowered beneath a storm, - Fall down before that reaper's hand - As falls the sun scorched grain; - And Glory's wreath, and Victory's song - Alike are void and vain. - - - - -THE WOODS AND THE SEA. - - - They gathered round with feeling heart, - From hamlet far and near; - They strove in vain, with kindly words, - Her stricken soul to cheer. - For over the night of anguish - Dawned never break of day; - That sun which sank in frowning skies - Left ne'er a softening ray. - - Oh broken heart! Oh empty life! - Oh sad, low monotone! - "The woods and the sea have ruined me; - Alone! yea all alone!" - - She'd left her peaceful, native shores - And dared the stormy wave - With him whose troth was love and truth; - The young, the strong and brave. - - They raised a cabin on the wild, - In shade of branching tree; - And there the mother reared the child, - And time passed merrily. - - Toil reaped the gain of comfort sweet; - And by the fireside blaze, - Glad souls went up in grateful song, - In voice of joy and praise. - Sweet lyrics of the heather land - The evening hours beguiled; - While age re-lived its youth once more, - And happy childhood smiled. - - Dark shadows mar the brightest heaven, - And, sharp as warning bell, - Sore tidings of their sailor's death - Upon that homestead fell. - Then, when the winter spread earth's shroud - Of pure white, glistening snow, - Upon those mourners fell apace - A still more bitter blow. - - All night, amid the biting frost, - With darkest gloom o'er head, - Upon the fir-tree's broken boughs - Three wanderers made their bed. - But, ere the dawn had streaked the sky - With glorious hues of day, - The brightest life e'er blessed a home - Was stilled in death for aye. - - The seasons cycled; peaceful years - Again verged into woe; - - By fatal stroke of falling tree - The silvered head lay low. - She stood beside the aged form; - Her brain seemed all on fire;-- - The billows rolled, the forest waved - O'er fated sons and sire. - - Oh narrow bounds of earthly ill! - Oh sad and suffering throng! - Oh ye! who drink the bitter cup; - It cannot be for long. - The woe-worn frame now resteth well; - The soul hath found its own; - Where shades of earth no more may blight, - In lustre of the Throne. - - No more she sings, in lonely grief - Her weary monotone: - "The woods and the sea have ruined me; - Alone! yea, all alone!" - - - - -THE GATE. - - - The light of love o'er her features played, - The silver streaks through her bright hair strayed. - - Her noble mien and her gentle hand - Proclaimed her daughter of no mean land. - - Voice and action attested her birth, - Better than mere gilt baubles of earth. - - Winter had folded its shroud and fled; - The daisies peeped from their grassy bed. - - The dark mounds rose from their circling green; - Young plants smiled back to the bright'ning sheen. - - No wealth of splendor, yet choice as gold - Those gifts from hands of the loved of old. - - Hands which will clasp my hand nevermore - Till feet stand firm on the tideless shore. - - Careless young Playful had oped the gate; - Hastening footsteps, that could not wait, - - Had sped where playtime and boyhood meet; - The gate, forgot, swung ope from the street, - - From the highway where the cattle roam, - And Arabs find their kindliest home. - - The gate might swing till the twilight hours; - Meantime, alack for the tender flowers! - - -II. - - Came she, 'mid the many passers by; - Quick of the wit and clear of the eye. - - She, of the high-bred, Christian school, - Soul-lit and sunned of the golden rule. - - Questioned she whether! halted she long! - Qualms of propriety right no wrong. - - Yield form and fashion their fitting place; - Yet, cramp not the soul in meaner space. - - Hence to marauders, and riskings of fate, - She quietly closed--then latched the gate. - - Trumpet bequests of the miser-mind, - Who spreads abroad when he cannot bind. - - Boast ye those deeds which blazon the name, - Lofty as adamant heights of Fame. - - Dawning of glory! the world's great heart - Throbs not its truest response to art. - - Nor skill, nor fame, nor glamour of gold; - Only Love's chain doth the world enfold. - - And those who will soar on angel wings, - Are the generous even in smaller things. - - Generous when shadows darken fate, - To close 'gainst evil a neighbor's gate. - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE HIDING PLACE.[Note] - - - The low, sweet voice of a summer's sea - Floats far along the pebbly strand; - Whilst melodies, from greening grove, - Resound o'er all the pleasant land. - The streamlet, freed from icy band, - Sings gaily on its seaward way; - All nature, in responsive mood, - Doth chime in Springtide roundelay. - - What notes discordant dare to mar - Those tender cadenzas of song? - Can those shrill tones be tones of wrath - On softest zephyrs borne along? - Yea! over Ocean's peaceful hum - A woman's wrathful voice soars high; - And through the green-arched forest aisles - Rings out young childhood's plaintive cry. - - Who cometh, arrayed in priestly guise, - Full-charged with embassy divine, - Of noble mien, of princely port, - Of lofty brow and look benign? - The mother stays the uplifted hand;-- - The culprit turned, and quickly ran - And refuge sought, and shelter found - Beneath cloak of the holy man. - - Calm, clear and firm the warning fell - "Forgive! if thou wouldst be forgiven; - Whose heart doth harbor angry thoughts - Can ne'er as penitent be shriven. - - Forgive thy son! this once forgive! - His surety I shall gladly be; - Or, if justice claimeth punishment, - Then--visit his crimes on me." - - * * * * * - - The years rolled on; the priestly garb - Bedecks a princely prelate now; - The saintly voice a blessing speaks - From underneath a mitred brow. - In his rounds of zeal the Bishop seeks - Once more fair Lennox' sea-girt isle; - When lo! from out the gathering shades, - The brilliant lights of welcome smile. - - In centre of a glittering throng - The reverend Father stately stands; - And, in the name of the Triune God, - He upraiseth his sacred hands. - Whilst, leader in that vast array, - Whose torches brighten wave and shore, - Is he whose faults were answered for; - The saved of many years before. - - So we, in our rebel sin-nature, - Pine under the chastening rod; - And fly with our burden of evil - From wrath of a just-dealing God, - To hide in Christ's sheltering raiment - Of righteousness, inwove with peace; - To find, in a sinless substitute, - The sin-fettered soul's release. - - So we, when our Great High Priest shall come, - Begirt of power, enrobed of state, - And the peoples of ten thousand isles - With eager joy His advent wait, - Shall hail, with a heartsong of rapture, - His step on our sin-furrowed strand; - Shall march, with the grand triumphal throng, - In the glow of a God-lit land. - - - - -A CHRISTMAS MEMORY. - - - Hail Christmas! beacon ever bright; - Athwart the way-worn years; - Full lustred of celestial light, - Thy white-robed dawn appears. - Blest season! when our much beloved - Around one altar meet; - When voices from the spirit-land - Our longing spirits greet. - - In tender memories arise, - Sunlit, the days of old, - When radiant vistas oped the skies - And streaked earth's grey with gold. - Beneath a lofty castle dome - Three fair young dreamers smile; - And, fraught of love, the light of home, - The flitting hours beguile. - - They wander by the river side, - They rest in woodland bowers; - - Pure joy flows like the rippling tide - Through all the sunny hours. - They climb the purple mountain crest, - They list the vesper call;-- - Ah me! gay life, then quiet rest; - Earth's shadows! darksome pall! - - Yet, lo! seraphic vision breaks;-- - That beauteous band I see, - Where glory-dawn in gladness wakes; - Where all the ransomed be. - High-seated in Immanuel's land, - 'Yond shadow of the tomb; - Safe-nurtured 'neath a Father's hand - Immortal youth doth bloom. - - Oh! happy, happy hearted! - Who tread the golden floor; - Oh! sinless, early parted! - Who live, to die no more. - Bright land, where none may sever! - Where life is life for aye; - Where, through the long forever, - No night shall veil the day. - - Within the grand, orchestral throng - They harp, with crowned brow; - While sadness mingles with our song, - We at His footstool bow. - Hail Christmas! light to weary eyes! - Light thou the years along; - Till, all as one in Paradise, - We sing our Christmas song. - - - - -THE IMMIGRANT'S APPEAL. - - - Oh! ye who suffer ills untold - Upon the ground you tread! - Whose children pine from want and cold, - And cry in vain for bread, - Fold not your hands o'er cruel fate, - Nor weep with blinded eyes; - Look onward! peace and plenty wait - Aneath our western skies. - - I left my home in Erin's Isle, - By Shannon's glittering wave, - I bade farewell a mother's smile, - A youthful husband's grave. - Together with my orphan band - I crossed the raging sea, - And sought and found in this bright land - A home for them and me. - - Where riches may not rob the feast - Won by the hand of toil; - Nor oust the man to feed the beast - Upon God's fertile soil. - Where sterling worth may upright stand, - Where industry is blessed;-- - Yes! though I love my native land, - I love this land the best. - - Here Scotia finds her sweet blue bell, - Here Erin's shamrock blows; - Whilst incense floats o'er hill and dell - From England's fragrant rose. - - Each country finds its own again - Tenfold, in this great world, - Where Freedom's hand, from mount to main, - Her banner hath unfurled. - - Fair Canada! all lands above - In power to conquer wrong; - Thou yieldest love in turn for love, - Thy strength shall aye be strong. - Oh beauteous, peerless, wide domains! - Oh ever teeming store! - Though exiled myriads seek thy plains, - There's room for myriads more. - - Now, where the Rocky summits rise, - At tender eve's decline, - I watch the sun of cloudless skies - O'er many an acre shine. - My heart's best treasures by my side, - The years may ebb and flow; - Till I shall greet, 'yond storm and tide, - The loved of long ago. - - - - -THE QUEEN'S JUBILEE. - - -I. - - Ring out, gay notes! through the brightening blue; - Peal forth o'er the shimmering wave; - Re-echo in souls of the brave; - Bestir the hearts of the loyal and true. - - Waft the sweet strains from the dear Mother-land - To the dwellers by far off sea; - Loud anthem the glad Jubilee - From white-robed North unto burnished strand. - - Anthem the years of the peaceful decades - When learning asserted its sway, - And poortith revived in its ray; - When science and art illumined our glades. - - Broken that power which the conscience would bind, - Base umpire 'twixt God and the soul; - No tyrant free speech doth control; - Loosed are the fetters which burdened the mind. - - Rides Progress aloft on triumphal car, - Out-coursing the wings of the wind; - To the gorgeous fanes of Ind - Rich blossoms his path, from the Polar star. - - Philanthrophy opeth her gentle hand; - Devotion Heaven's dictate obeys; - Dawns clearly Hope's halcyon days;-- - Golden their gleam, as Aurora's bright wand. - - Live Commerce, careering the white crested wave, - Quells baneful suspicion and fear; - From high unto lowliest sphere - Blendeth in union--our Empire to save. - - -II. - - Now harmony striketh a tender chord - In the lay true Loyalty sings; - For the offering which she brings - Is dearer than trophy won by the sword. - - Praise for those virtues which never wax old, - Lustrous gems in a noble life; - Praise for the calm amid the strife;-- - Serene is the spirit of sterling gold. - - Rolls from our vision the mist of the years, - Adown through the dark aisles of time, - Life's canvas, with picture sublime, - In its radiance of beauty, appears. - - Soft falleth the sun of a kindly zone - On the Abbey, so old and grey; - On the tomb of a former day; - Bathing in splendor the image of stone. - - Sparkling in flame on the jewelled brow - Of the peeress, highborn and fair; - Anon on the mouldering chair, - Yclad of the royal, pure ermine, now. - - Arrayed in the trappings of princely state, - Loadstar of a glittering band; - Our fair young Lady of the land-- - She stands--the greatest where all are great. - - Crowned with the crown which her brave fathers bore, - Largess of honors kiss her feet; - Enwraps her with dignity meet - Prestige of might, as the birthright of yore. - - High-throned in the love of a nation's heart, - Rich treasures of promise, I ween, - Cheer the steps of our youthful Queen; - Lighten the future, and courage impart. - - -III. - - Vanished that picture of glorious youth, - Dark clouds o'er life's midsummer came; - Yet scathless the seasons retain - The loving trust, and the honor and truth. - - Full oft, o'er the fairest spring morning, - There falleth a bitter, cold blight; - Oft shroudeth in darksomest night - The ruddiest sun heaven adorning. - - So fell _he_ in full flush of his manhood, - So dropt _they_ in life's glowing spring; - Yet the anguished soul wakened to sing, - The tear-bedimmed eyes perceived the All-Good. - - Richer than diamond of Indian mine - The treasure Victoria owns; - Firmest pillar of earthly thrones, - True sympathy,--typing the Love Divine. - - Thrice blessed sympathy! may it surround - And cheer her graceful evening's calm; - Till sceptre yields to victor's palm, - May the faith and hope, and the love abound. - - Voice then the homage of millions as one; - Wreathe garlands of amaranth flowers; - Nor last be Canada--hers and ours;-- - For here doth the blood of true fealty run. - - Thunder it over the wide ocean's sheen! - Sing it by peaceful inland sea; - "God bless our glorious Jubilee! - God bless and defend our most noble Queen!" - - - - -POINT PRIM. - - - Far off from the smoke, and the city's glare, - To the breath of the clover lea; - From the din and dust to the healthful air, - And the song of a tranquil sea. - Which falls on the ear like a holy psalm - From a world unkenned of strife; - As the eve glides past in a blissful calm, - Like the close of a well-spent life. - - Yet sighings of sorrow are heard in the foam - Which white-wreathes thy border, Point Prim; - As she telleth their fate, who left thee, to roam, - The eyes of the mother wax dim. - Of him who ne'er quitted dread danger's post - Till engulfed in the treacherous wave; - Or of him who fevered on sultry coast, - And was launched in the sailor's grave. - - No thrilling oration shall vaunt their praise, - No flowers bloom over their breast; - The surges shall wail through the long, long days, - Yet disturb not their quiet rest. - No kindred shall bind them in narrow bed, - No marble earth's sympathy crave; - Sea-shells will pillow the wave-shrouded head, - And winds sigh the dirge of her brave. - - No more by the wood path, through falling leaves, - Will she hasten their steps to greet; - But yet will she gather her golden sheaves, - When time and eternity meet. - - No more will they weather the tempest's strain, - With a lowering sky o'erhead;-- - One haven will shelter her loved again - When the sea giveth up its dead. - - - - -ORWELL BAY. - - - Sweet, pale-faced Queen of silent night! - Calm-seated on thy azure throne, - Shed forth thy beams of silvery light - Till nether realms embrace thine own. - Till gleaming spire on tree-crowned hill, - With waving corn on valley land; - Till peaceful flood, and noiseless mill - Seem burnished of enchanter's wand. - - And you, ye moonbeams! softly glide - Along fair Orwell's glittering wave; - And gently rest where all my pride - Lies buried, in my Mary's grave. - Oh Mary! loved of my youth! - Oh blissful dreams of early day! - When love was life, and troth was truth, - And hallowed shrine was Orwell Bay. - - Full oft, upon thy banks, of yore, - With hearts entwined in love divine, - While murmuring wavelets kissed thy shore, - We watched the radiant day's decline. - When sorrow fell, when times were hard, - Love held its faith, youth hoped the best; - - I bade farewell thy greening sward, - And turned me to the glowing West. - - Dull seasons fled, dark shadows lowered, - My utmost efforts were unmeet; - When sudden, fickle Fortune showered - Her golden largess at my feet. - As needle turneth to the pole, - So, homeward hied my steps to thee; - But ne'er shall love, or kindred soul, - Or joys of youth return to me. - - Not all my wealth of hard-won gold - Could shield from blight that lustrous head - Now lying in the churchyard mould;-- - The church where we had hoped to wed. - I list the sweet, clear notes which thrill - Through wooded uplands o'er thy wave; - The music in my heart is still, - Still as the stars o'er Mary's grave. - - Oh, gorgeous lamps of living light! - Which halo all the arc of blue, - Ye emblem to my raptured sight - The white soul of a life most true. - My Mary! tender guiding star! - I bow before the Sovereign sway;-- - That higher realm, where nought can mar, - Is fairer e'en than Orwell Bay. - - - - -GOING ABROAD. - - - Oh fleeting hour! Oh faltering heart! - Oh long and sad farewell! - How bitter long we twain may part - It is not ours to tell. - For many a golden shaft will beam - Through many a pearly rain, - Down forest aisles, o'er mountain stream, - Ere we can meet again. - - Yet, when on far off ocean's foam, - Or on some foreign strand, - Bright Memory wafts thy spirit home - Unto thy native land, - Bethink thee of those gladsome days - When carelessly we strayed - O'er furrowed sand, or daisied braes, - While Ocean minstrels played. - - 'Neath gleaming skies of cloudless blue; - Beyond the tropic's glare, - Where bright-eyed birds of rainbow hue - Float through the perfumed air; - By pictured scenes of former age; - In seats of ancient lore, - Where poet, painter, sculptor, sage - Illumined days of yore, - - Recall that grand, familiar sight, - When heaven seems all ablaze - With floods of gold and purple light,-- - Aurora's matchless rays. - - And when, from black, dissonant sky - No stars may vigil keep; - When boisterous seas exult on high - And o'er the taffrail sweep, - - Bethink thee of those days to be, - When floods shall swell no more; - Nor loud-voiced surge, nor angry sea - Shall break upon the shore. - Where white-winged storm shall never beat - Across the verdant plain; - Where severed lives, once more complete, - E'erlasting life shall gain. - - - - -THE STUDENT. - - - The cloudless sun of southern clime - Shone full that Christmas Day, - As the city of the Caesars - Held regal holiday. - - For Him whose gracious advent, - Hailed in seraphic tone, - The saved of earth, and saints in Heaven - In grateful praises own. - - Full loud above the city's hum - Pealed forth cathedral chime; - While round the loftiest, proudest dome, - Wreathed harmony sublime, - - Which thrilled among those ruins vast - That long have braved the skies; - Proud monument of Pagan hate - And Christian sacrifice. - - Rejoicing echoes filled the breeze - That fanned the martyrs' tombs; - Fit requiem! they sowed the seed - Which now triumphant blooms. - - Where Reason held its vaunted sway, - Firm-leagued with Godless might, - Round storied urn, through marbled halls - Loud shriek the birds of night. - - Whilst borne along the sounding waves - Which fleck the furthest shore, - That light of life, that perfect faith - Sealed with the martyrs' gore. - - But, within that regal city, - On that bright Christmas Day, - In hectic flush of fever heat - A stranger student lay. - - A stranger from a distant land - Across the western sea, - Where peace doth reign, and howe'er poor - Man feels that he is free. - - Of faith inspired, he'd crossed the foam - And left his native sod, - That he his years might consecrate - To winning souls for God. - - No higher aim was ever sought, - No purer soul was shriven; - For the whole purpose of his life - Unto his Lord was given. - - A noble matron sat beside - And soothed his dying bed; - One who, with mother's tenderness, - Had wept _her_ early dead. - - Sore, sore it grieved that mother's heart! - When fever's pulse beat high - And reason reeled, the parched lips - Gave forth the wailing cry, - - "Oh! take me to that far-off land - Where cool sea-breezes blow; - Where wintry sun doth smiling shine - Athwart the pure, white snow. - - "Oh! thither wist I to return - Fraught with my mission high, - To bear the standard of the Cross - Beneath my native sky. - - "For this my spirit waked to zeal - Where soft the sunlight falls; - For this I craved the higher lore - Of Propaganda's halls." - - Then "list the strains of music! - Now loud, now soft and clear;-- - It is the voice of wavelets sweet - Which greets my listening ear. - - "Brimful of glee, it seems to me, - They ripple o'er the strand, - As when they sang the lullaby - Of our dear, household band. - - "Mark how the lustrous, Autumn glow - Illumes the reddening leaves; - The genial harvest-tide is past, - And gathered in, the sheaves. - - "Now there--yes! through the waning light - I see the little stile;-- - A few steps more--how dark it grows! - Home in Prince Edward Isle." - - But as, o'er the calm of evening - Breathed forth the vesper hymn, - The visions of fancy faded, - The clear, blue eyes waxed dim. - - The hectic flush evanished - Before cold Pallor's hand; - Ended the warfare, hushed the voice-- - Hushed in the silent land. - - And the soul of the fair young dreamer - Went up with music's swell; - Whilst Victory's paeans grandly soared - High o'er earth's parting knell. - - And though to his home and kindred - He cometh ne'er again, - The memory of his bright young life - The years will aye retain. - - And aye, as the festive season falls, - On fair St. Lawrence Bay, - They mourn the student who died in Rome - On that bright Christmas Day. - - - - -THE PIONEER. - - - He sat 'neath the green verandah shade at cool of a sunbright day; - And many a pleasant look he cast to the children at their play. - - Though blanched his locks, though stooped his form, his heart no frosts - might sere, - For peacefully the shadows fall, where mind and soul are clear. - - At length the noisy mirth is hushed for breathing space of rest, - And gaily round the loved grandsire the merry group hath pressed. - - There's gentle Effie, little Will, big Joe and sturdy Ben, - Grandpa's namesake, "who sure will make his mark 'mongst mighty men." - - "A story!" and the spectacles are moved from off the face, - And carefully and kindly wiped ere slipped into their case. - - "A story! well, it seems to me that all my tales are told; - Both of these nigh, fast fleeting years, and long, long days of old." - - Upwafted from the clover field, in fragrance on the wind, - Came breathings from a former hour in freshness to the mind. - - "Perchance you have not listed how one stroke from woman's hand - Transformed a forest dense and dim to fair and fruitful land. - - "'Twas in a far back settlement, within a dusky wood, - The rude hut of an immigrant on scanty clearance stood. - - "Strong hands had reared the rooftree, and sowed the patch of ground, - And bleating from the sheepfold broke the solitude around. - - "From rim of rudely builded flue the hazy smoke-wreaths curled, - To wander o'er the mighty vault which guards a sleeping world. - - "Out of the widely opened door doth savory flavor steal - As, from gun of clever marksman, is prepared the evening meal. - - "Beside the woodpile, which was hauled across last winter's snow, - Sat the owner of the homestead, but his head was bending low. - - "He had flung aside his hatchet and tired and care-oppressed, - Sat down to muse and vex his mind, while he gave his body rest. - - "His heart yearned o'er the byegone hours, on Scotia's bonny braes, - When he chased among the yellow broom, or plucked the juicy slaes. - - "He hears the plashing of the wave upon the sea-beat shore; - He hears his mother's gentle step, as music on the floor. - - "He sees the ivy-mantled church on yonder green hill side - Where, in his earlier manhood, he claimed his girlish bride. - - "But the past is passed forever, and in its place doth stand - The certain fate of pioneer in our Canadian land. - - "A match 'twixt strength of arm and will, of labor tough and keen, - Affording slightest intervals for idleness, I ween, - - "And nature in repellant mood; in roughest, homeliest guise; - Of frowning features, fit to thwart the purpose from the prize. - - "He conjured up his hardships in this new land of the West, - And reasoned of returning to the land he loved the best. - - "But within the cot was wanted fresh fuel for the flame; - Impatient to the woodstack a trim young matron came. - - "She steadied with her nimble foot the log late split in twain; - She raised the axe, but action failed; her stroke descends in vain. - - "It failed, yet failed not; it had touched one sad, desponding heart, - And nerved his arm and urged him on to act the manlier part. - - "Shame mantled o'er his sunbrowned cheek, and tinged his yet fair brow; - The mists fell from his longing eyes; he faced the real now. - - "He looked unto the forest with its miles of birch and pine, - Its maple, and its tangled growth through which no sun might shine. - - "He looked unto the forest with its giants great and tall; - He looked unto the forest but--God ruleth over all. - - * * * * * - - "Through years of active industry, through perfect trust in Heaven, - 'Yond all the ups and downs of life complete success was given. - - "I, for I was that laggard, by that stroke of woman's hand, - Was started on the royal road which needs no wizard wand. - - "We planned and worked together--my Effie dear and I, - And quickly o'er our busy life the sunny years went by. - - "For denseness of the solemn pine, came cheerful apple bloom; - And gleeful shouts of buoyant hearts outrang the sighs of gloom. - - "For screeching owl, and croaking frog, came lowing of the cows, - As the merry bells went jingle, beyond the ample mows. - - "Our boys grew up to help us; our boys--their mother's pride; - And ne'er a cloud came o'er our joys until our first-born died. - - "A village sprung up near the farm; steam engines whistled by; - And the dusky serpent trailed its fumes along our placid sky. - - "Then your father brought a fair young wife, our waning hours to cheer; - Her face was sweet as daffodil, her voice as song-bird's clear. - - "But one morn there came a message,--Joe! you remember all; - And grandma heard it cheerfully, and answered to the call. - - "My love! who loved me ever, from morn till gloaming grey, - Dear heart! who never murmured o'er the home of early day. - - "For though she loved the olden land with love that knew no change, - With fuller life her sympathies found freer, broader range. - - "The kind eyes closed, the busy hands were crossed on silent breast; - And reverently her mourning sons conveyed her to her rest. - - "Beside her first-born on the hill--and there I hope to lie - When the blessed Lord doth summon me to meet her in the sky." - - He looked upon the tasseled corn, the richest crop all round, - Then wistfully he gazed beyond to the now hallowed ground - - Where slept his past; he faintly sighed, then bowed his aged head;-- - The children strove to rouse him but--the loved grandsire was dead. - - No more he tells of struggle vast, or rest from labour won; - He singeth in the psalms of peace 'neath an unsetting sun. - - No more he sees with vision dim; upon that other shore - The Light of Life hath welcomed him to glory evermore. - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE OLDEN FLAG. - - - Raise high the royal standard! - Shame not thy royal birth; - The prestige of thy might sustain, - Thou noblest of the earth! - Great Canada! thou fair, free land! - A world looks forth to thee; - No alien hand thy hand shall lead; - Thou'lt bow no servile knee. - - Then rally round the olden flag! - The loved red, white and blue; - Let traitors scheme, or boasters brag, - To Canada prove true. - - Float on, Oh flag of Empire vast! - Long may thy colors wave - O'er many a blood-bought heritage; - O'er many a hero's grave. - The grandeur of thy fame doth light - The fields our fathers won; - The noblest gift which valiant sire - Could e'er bequeath his son. - - Droop not, Oh peerless standard! - Oh loyal hearts and true! - Forget not ye the olden land - Though cherishing the new. - Forget not hearts and hopes are one, - From Britain's sea-girt Isles - To where, beyond the Rocky steep, - The broad Pacific smiles. - - Wave on, Oh flag of Empire vast! - O'er mountain, rock and stream; - Where wholesome fealty rests secure, - Beneath thy fervent gleam. - For, should the tramp of hostile feet - Arouse our peaceful shore, - Britannia's conquering sword would flash - Through Canada once more. - - Then rally round the olden flag! - The loved red, white and blue; - Let traitors scheme, or boasters brag, - To Canada prove true. - -[Illustration] - - - - -IDYLLS OF THE YEAR. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW. - - -THE OLD. - - We hailed thy white-robed natal hour, - Rejoiced in dawning Spring; - Now Autumn fruit, and Summer flower - Have passed, and sad we sing - - Thy requiem. Oh vanished year! - Thy deeds of shame and wrong, - Thy widows' cry, thy orphans' tear - Well nigh untune my song. - - Thine was the fraud, the private cheat, - The mean in purse and thought; - Leal worshippers at Mammon's feet, - Who sold their Heaven for nought. - - Thine were those souls that slander hatch, - That tortuous tangles spin; - Who mimic those they fail to match, - And mock at all, save sin. - - Thine too, those hideous slaughter-fields - Where, on the sodden plain, - As mind in man to brute force yields, - Lie dead, and deathless slain. - - Yet, through that Power who quelled the storm - With mandate "Peace! be still!" - Thy friendships were not all mere form, - Thy doings not all ill. - - For earnest hearts, and righteous hands - In thee have gained a prize, - That goal which change and time withstands; - Christ-life the world defies. - - Then, blessing Him whose presence flows - Where vision fails to view; - Through summer's heat, and winter's snows, - We bid thee, Year, adieu! - - -THE NEW. - - And turn, with heart of hope, to hail - God's gift, the latest born; - Those promises which never fail - Make glad our New Year's morn. - - Before His fiat nature bends, - His verdure clothes the tree; - He grandeur to the mountain lends, - And sways the surging sea. - - At His command the torrents pour, - The spring leaps from the rock; - The eaglets from the eyrie soar, - Firm earth sustains a shock. - - With power unbounded at His feet - All heaven and earth to move; - - Through Calvary's cross, in Him we greet, - 'Yond justice, pardoning love. - - Though dismal clouds at noontide lower, - What need to grope our way; - Ahead doth stream, from beacon tower, - Light to celestial day. - - That Hand which paints the rose's bloom, - Which hung heaven's canopy, - Doth point to where, 'yond present gloom, - Unblemished landscapes be. - - That Heart, responsive to the cry - Of man, and bird, and beast; - Bids teeming earth, in prompt reply, - Spread out perpetual feast. - - Then, sigh not o'er the buried year, - Nor mourn, in low-set voice; - Young Life sings forth in accents clear; - In her sweet joy rejoice. - -[Illustration] - - - - -SPRING. - - - The fiat hath gone forth; - From Winter's nerveless grasp - The frozen chains unclasp; - King Freedom rules our North. - - From out his long repose - Fair Ocean sings again; - Low wail, or sweet refrain - In every breeze that blows. - - See! from the listening hills - The whitened mantle glides; - Whilst 'gulfed in full spring-tides - Are lost the murmuring rills. - - Ring out ye woodland notes! - Trill through the brightening blue; - Loud swell the anthem new, - Which nature heavenward floats. - - For zephyr fanned river, - For gently swaying trees, - Voice, in each passing breeze, - The praise of life's Great Giver. - - Now firelight's lurid gleam - Gives place to greening slope; - Where youth, miraged of hope, - Sees roseate vistas beam. - - Hails in each star of eve, - Each lustrous, lengthening day - - Of joyous roundelay, - A world where none may grieve. - - Blessed morning of the year! - Lone sickness greets the voice - Which waketh to rejoice, - From high to lowliest sphere. - - The tiller of the soil - Goes forth in purpose strong; - For Spring's exultant song - Wreathes round the head of toil. - - Earth! nurture well the seed; - Sun! gild the swelling grain; - Heaven! sap the thirsty plain; - Till plenty answers need. - - Breathe out, Oh genial Spring! - Thy teachings over all; - Till, manna-like, shall fall, - Soft peace where tumults ring. - - Then shall the wondrous story - On nature's vivid page - Gleam, till millennial age - Doth flood the world with glory. - -[Illustration] - - - - -SUMMER. - - - Hail Summer! glad Summer! thou Queen of the year! - Hail fragrance and beauty encircling thy sphere! - With song of the oriole, with hum of the bee, - We welcome thy coming from far Southern sea. - - Thou tintest the blossom on Winter's cold grave; - Bidd'st Commerce ride forth on the white-crested wave; - Thy sweet zephyrs float from the golden-hued west - As whisper of angels from realm of the blest. - - The tiniest leaflets which brighten the ground - No less than great waters thy praises resound; - As, peeping from wayside, or climbing the bower, - They kiss the gay sunlight, or drink in the shower. - - Heaven's choristers warble in gladsome reply, - As trees offer incense unto thy blue sky; - Even rough ocean, melting to low, passive strain, - Joins earth in harmonious and joyous refrain. - - Ah me! for the roses of summer all strewn! - Ah me! for the lives whose brief sunshine has flown! - The clouds often darken at noontide the wave; - The willows oft weep o'er a midsummer's grave. - - Oh! for that bright land where no shadows e'er fall; - Nor sickness e'er withers, nor sorrows appall; - Where summers of gladness unceasingly roll - O'er the sinless home of the sanctified soul. - - - - -AUTUMN. - - - Robed in thy raiment of splendor, - Thy trappings of purple and gold; - Brighter than vision of dreamland, - Thou lightenest mountain and wold. - Streameth thy rays o'er the woodland; - And the green of the sombre pine, - And the crimson of the maple leaf - Are wreathed in a lustre divine. - - Clothed is fair earth of thy fulness; - Enriched is the bloom of the flower; - From verdant to radiant beauty - Thou shadest the gay trellised bower. - Thy smile doth paint the yellow corn; - Thou sing'st in rustle of the sheaves; - Thy symphonies of praise ascend - In twitter of the orchard leaves. - - Calm, mellow skies look kindly down - On tree-clad hill, on fruitful vale; - Whilst mariners, on far-off seas, - Hoist canvas to the homeward gale. - Thy generous hand doth fill the cup - With choice reward for labor's crown; - Thy teeming fields revoice that hope - Which blancheth not 'neath Winter's frown. - - For though earth's life-sustaining store - Be gathered from her bounteous breast; - Though leafage falls on bare, brown floor, - Though nature lieth long at rest, - - The snows shall flit at Spring's warm breath, - And, after Summer's round of cheer, - Again shall Autumn lays peal forth; - Again shall mercy crown the year. - - - - -WINTER. - - - Down came the rude winds of the Northland; - Their icy breath crusting the snow, - Chilling the mirth of the babbling stream, - Till it sullenly gurgles below. - Freezing the shroud on the lifeless hill, - Erst-while all aglow in its green; - Mocking the gloom of a low-arched sky - By pearl-flashing forest between. - - Bitterly keen was that rude, north wind; - I sighed with the outgoing year, - And yearned for the kindlier, warmer suns - Which had waned over Autumn's bier. - That love which haloed the loved of youth, - Which kept unscathed its primal hold, - Outshone the weal of the passing hour; - And harped on nature's minor chord. - - As tenderly, up the aisles of time, - Through many a winter's snow - There trilled the long-missed harmonies; - Dear hearts of the long ago! - - But--Hush ye voices of plaint within! - Give ear to the voices without; - Over the snow-piles, down the dull street - There pealeth a boy's merry shout. - - A tide of youth, with its pleasure freight, - In sunshine of gladness sweeps past; - And clear on the frosty air rings out - "Jolly old Winter's come at last." - Then wholesome trust in the Ever-Good - Welled up over carping unrest;-- - I chime in the chime of the changing years; - _They_ bow to their Ruler's behest. - - - - -EASTER. - - - "Fear not!" said the white-robed angel - Who rolled the stone away; - "Fear not, for your Lord is risen; - Come see where Jesus lay." - Oh! joy for the blessed assurance! - No sealed, or guarded grave, - Could bind in its rocky shroudings - The Christ who came to save. - - Adown through the circling ages, - As threads of living gold, - The tidings of that hallowed morn - Have spanned life's dreary world. - Have touched, convinced, subdued the soul; - Till reason's twilight ray, - - Till vice, and dolesome ignorance - Give place to perfect day. - - That voice which awed the angry wave - On deep, blue Galilee, - Yet calms, and rules with mild control, - From nigh to further sea. - Yet wakes to life the desert land, - Breaks superstition's hold; - And, wanderers on the myriad paths, - Doth compass in one fold. - - Ye seraphs! strike your golden harps, - Tuned with devotion high; - With echoing paeans sweetly thrill - The arches of the sky. - Whilst we, in noblest measures - Which earthly voices sing, - Yield homage to our risen Lord - Our glorious Saviour--King. - - - - -THANKSGIVING. - - - In Tisri's holier season, - From City of the Palms - To where onycha incense soared - Amid Hosanna psalms, - Waved green from every housetop, - Gay plumes of laurel tree; - Whilst silver trumpets pealed afar - The tones of victory. - - Since through atoning sacrifice - Had dawned the spirit's peace; - And through earth's toil a rich reward - Was reaped, in earth's increase. - - Though ruin marks where Tadmor reigned, - And Israel roameth far; - No shoals may stem the mercy-tide; - No power Heaven's largess bar. - Then through the great Atonement's dawn, - Be lit our sin-dimmed eyes; - Till grateful accents pierce the mist, - Into rejoicing skies. - Till garnered fruit, and aftermath; - Till Autumn's tender shine - With farewell tones of woodland song, - Reflect the Love Divine. - - - - -CHRISTMAS EVE. - - -I. - - Deep shadows mar the pearly snow; - Light flickers on the wall; - While childhood's laugh, as music's flow - Resoundeth through the hall. - - Now echoes from the years return;-- - Ring out thou pealing bell! - While thought doth last, or memory burn - Thou may'st not strike their knell. - - And visions from the earlier days - Within the mind arise, - Illumined by a golden haze; - For earth seems near the skies. - - And round our hearth the voices throng - Which tender memories bring; - Those tones which died in even-song, - Those stilled in budding spring. - - Once more we gather, as in one, - To list the tale oft told; - That legacy from sire to son - Which waxeth never old. - - -II. - - No shrill-toned clarion wakes the night - O'er Juda's slumbering plains; - No trumpet blast of armed might - Sounds forth "Messiah reigns." - - No curious crowd demands a sight; - No trophy flameth high; - But seraph hosts, on wings of light, - Haste through the ebon sky. - - With glad acclaim His name they sing - Whose praise all heaven doth fill; - At whose command to earth they bring - The message of goodwill. - - Oh wonderful! the angels' Lord - In human guise arrayed; - - He, by archangels great adored, - Within a manger laid. - - Where sages, guided by the star, - Kneel by that Holy One; - As, with rich offerings from afar, - They greet the Virgin's son. - - -III. - - All lustred with its halo bright - That picture still appears; - Unfading in its glorious light, - Unscathed by lapse of years. - - Oh Day of days! we welcome thee; - Bright beam on history's page! - Thou font of youthful hope and glee; - Halt in our pilgrimage. - - Those wreaths of red, and green and white, - Which round our altars cling, - Denote, where faith is moved by sight, - His offering, Whom we sing. - - The red, the atoning sacrifice; - The white, our souls made clean; - Whilst life unending in the skies - Is typed by evergreen. - - Blest beacon o'er our path below! - Thy story, may't extend; - Till in thy pure and perfect glow, - A heaven and earth shall blend. - - - - -CHRISTMAS. - - - Oh! fair and buoyant Christmas! - Well-spring of childish glee; - Gay jubilance and noisy mirth - Thrill round thy fairy tree. - - Oh! roseate flush of Christmas! - Bright vistas crown the day, - When young hearts wake to tenderness - Beneath thy genial ray. - - Oh! cheerful, hopeful Christmas! - Rest in the toilsome year; - Thy glory-glimpse illumes the soul; - Earth's cloudlets disappear. - - Oh! sweet and tranquil Christmas! - Hours past, and hours to come; - Calm retrospect of vanished joys; - Dear prospect of our home. - - Oh! high and holy Christmas! - Unfraught of earthly leaven; - Our spirits chime in angel song, - And near the nearing heaven. - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE SIEGE OF QUEBEC. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE SIEGE OF QUEBEC. - - -I. - -PRELUDE. - - Thou peerless Queen of peerless land! in nature's choicest zone, - Thou sitt'st in regal dignity upon thy rocky throne; - The glorious memories of the past thy future glories greet, - And fadeless laurels wreathe thy brow, as ocean laves thy feet. - Fair home of faithful, loyal hearts! shrine of the hero-dead! - Whose valor rested not till hid within its gory bed; - Right royal sitt'st thou on thy heights, with Empire's flag unfurled, - The brightest gem, by sea or plain, of all this newer world. - - Thou had'st thy skilful mariners, who crossed an unknown sea; - Thou had'st thy famous warriors, thy far-brought peasantry - Who cleared the tangled forest shades, and in the greenwood wild - - Prepared an exile's home to lodge the mother with the child. - And thou had'st saints, those holy ones who feared nor shame nor loss, - Who o'er their altars raised aloft the standard of the Cross; - Who suffered torture's keenest pangs, whose souls were winged on high - From bloody knife and cruel flame--such lives may never die. - - Softly, Oh winds of the south-land! - Float over valley and steep; - Bathe with your incense of perfume - The spot where the martyrs sleep. - - Tenderly, winds of the ocean! - Rippling the streamlet's bright waves. - Pause in your flight o'er the mountains; - Fan with your freshness their graves. - - And thou! Oh breeze off the pine-lands! - Far over the glorious West - Sing forth the grandeur of soul-life - From groves where the holy rest. - - Where Indian Donacona ruled, there ruled the wise Champlain; - Then Commerce, social herald, brought religion in its train; - Whilst high above thy loftiest crag and by the stately tree - There floated proudly on the breeze the gorgeous _fleur-de-lis_. - - And though no more the vine-clad hills should greet the longing eye, - Nor streamlets of the sunny South in joyous strains flash by; - Though never more the worshippers should kneel in ancient fanes, - Yet France as dear, yet faith as bright, might blossom on those plains. - - Change copes with time; ills tracked the years; far worse than - Indian knife - Came gross misrule and greed of gain, with envious civil strife; - Grim want, foul rapine filled the land and paved the smoother way - For foreign foe and outward wrong, for inward sore decay. - Then followed war with horrors wild, and who a sword could wield - Was summoned to the deadly fray, whilst women tilled the field; - Yet, with a courage native-born within the France of yore, - Thy sons long held a baffled foe from off Canadian shore. - - -II. - -THE BOMBARDMENT. - - Red glowed the sun of summer morn athwart the shining deep, - All radiant in its still repose, as child in restful sleep; - - And as it higher streaked the heavens, and further gilt the wave, - There dawned a sight that chilled stout hearts within those - erstwhile brave-- - A sight which called the soldier forth to guard his every post, - Which moved the patriot soul to hope, though hope was well-nigh lost; - Had fallen Ticonderoga, Niagara lost the day, - And now the victor's flag streamed out o'er fair St. Lawrence Bay. - - A British squadron, fifty sail, with well-trained soldier band, - Led on by Wolfe of martial fame, of skilled and daring hand, - Had anchored on the Orleans coast to watch, if need be wait - Till golden opportunity should crown the course of fate. - 'Twas not mere common _role_ of arms, to measure strength for strength, - To storm with shot or fiendish shell, to fight at sabre's length; - 'Twas to out-plan the well laid scheme, out-match with matchless skill - The great opposing elements, vast work of zealous will. - - So huge the perfect system of well arranged defence, - Small marvel if prompt action waived, subdued of grave suspense; - The city, perched upon her heights, in solemn far retreat. - - With thousand willing hearts guardant in fealty at her feet; - Along the river's northern rim, to Montmorency's shore, - Redoubt, earthwork and battery defiant aspect bore; - Whilst at each point of access, for miles and miles around, - Stood youth and age, a patriot guard upon a hallowed ground. - - High banks and shallow waters, the warships idle lay; - Discouraged and perplexed the Chief, held thus so far at bay;-- - Oh, treacherous shining waters! those frowning crags that lave, - Ye folded in your cold embrace eight hundred of the brave, - The bravest of old England, who, fifty years before - Unfighting met their destiny at threshold of that door - Now barred against the invader; much wonder was it then - Though gravest doubt should dull the mind of England's mightiest men? - - Mayhap before their vision loomed those feats of former day - When British fleet, in Phipp's command, besieged that fortress grey; - When messenger with flag of truce, was ushered in blindfold - Before the noble Frontenac, that veteran leal and bold. - No coward blood e'er nursed the life of him, the loyal veined, - - Proposals for surrender mean, who scornfully disdained; - "Go, tell your General," he said, proud flashed his wrathful eye, - "That surely by my cannon's mouth, shall be my fit reply." - - Oft, over dire extremity, a sudden radiance falls; - Though sealed those portals, bullet-proof those adamantine walls, - Swift, as of lightning's vivid flash, Wolfe's eager eye descried - A site for prowess to effect, though skill and force defied. - Where Mount de Levi sits aloft upon the other shore, - Incessant devastation might bridge the waters o'er; - Might bring to woman's, childhood's ears, sore tidings of dismay, - Might picture scenes would dim the eye, through many a lustrous day. - - Loud booms along the glistening wave the din of shot and shell; - The breeze-borne notes resound afar a generous people's knell; - The time-worn soldier stands aghast, religion bends the knee, - And silence sceptres ruined homes, where mirth flowed full and free. - Still, firm within thy battlements, upon thy steadfast throne, - Thou beauteous city of the heights! defeat thou would'st not own; - Abode thy Chieftain by thy side, nor left thy ample shield - - At tempter's scheme, or skilled device to war on open field. - - Yet courage waned not, yet again were outward posts assailed; - But every effort met rebuff, all stratagem had failed; - Who fell not by the Frenchman's arm to perish in their gore - Were fain to find a sure retreat, from off that hostile shore. - Sick of chagrin a fever laid the English leader low, - Ambition, high resolve retired before a stubborn foe; - Were't not that Townshend's able wit one final scheme revealed - Perchance the maple leaf might grace fair Gallia's ancient shield. - - -III. - -THE BATTLE. - - Out over the quiet waters, in sheen of the starry night, - With sword, and gun, and bayonet, equipped for fervent fight. - On, on by the towering headlands, in shade of frowning steep, - Ere flickering day-dreams banished sweet dreams of friendly sleep. - Ere lingering morn had oped its eyes to greet the orient sun, - They moored beneath a rugged cliff, they scaled it one by one. - - Up over moss-hid precipice, with tangled growth o'erhead;-- - Well was it he who led the van was of the mountain bred. - - Up went the hardy Highlanders, with eye and footing clear, - As when, in their own mountain land, they chased the nimble deer. - O'er broken boughs, through network green, the bright-hued tartan wends - In single file, a living streak with darksome foliage blends. - When, hark! midway the sentry's ear had caught the muffled sound; - He halted the approaching step ere paced his further round. - "_Qui vive?_" he queried; quick response dispelled all fear of wrong; - "_La France_," came back assuringly; he heard and passed along. - - Before the darker hues of night gave place to morning grey, - A force well nigh five thousand strong stood firm in war's array. - They clomb the heights, they chose the ground upon the rearward plain, - Prepared to fight for Britain's might, no worthless prize to gain. - A land of nature's lavish gifts, a store of boundless wealth; - Rare land! where pestilence ne'er stills the bounding pulse of health. - - Where, over richly-yielding plains majestic rivers roll; - Where tyranny may forge no chains to bind the freeborn soul. - - Though Britain's war-blast sounded forth its warning loud and shrill, - Though Britain's daring rank and file be-crowned the rock bound hill, - Montcalm, undaunted of surprise, with soul to honor dear, - Ne'er faltered in his manly voice, ne'er blanched with heart of fear. - With prompt and steadiest action he ranged his battle plan, - Inspiring with his ardent will the will of lesser man. - Clear ran along the listening lines the order to "Advance," - And golden eagles waved aloft, and shouts went up for France. - - Alas for prudent reckoning! sole valor led the way, - And hasted on to conflict dire, whose only succor lay - In calm, reluctant rallying within their fortress walls, - Till compassed of invading tide, till neared the bugle calls. - Unbroken columns moved ahead; with firm, free step they trod - The plain where many a hero's blood would early damp the sod. - Upon their well matched foe they oped with rain of deadly fire; - The British stirred not from their post, but hailed their presence - nigher. - - Ho! courage of the mariner who dares the fiercest storm! - Ho! valor of the warrior who fears no hostile form! - Yet braver he who stands erect nor bows the craven head, - Though murderous fire is laying low the living with the dead. - Not theirs to flinch, though comrades fell, theirs only to obey; - Their brave young General had said, and who might say him nay, - As manfully, in face of death, he hasted to and fro; - "Reserve your fire till forty yards divide you from the foe." - - See Europe's proudest martial powers with rival flag unfurled; - Intent in blood to seal the fate of this fair Western world. - To plant upon those echoing heights that standard which would gleam - O'er sea-wide lakes, o'er prairie vast, o'er forest, mount and stream. - The ancient feuds, the after-curse of many a needless fray, - The jealousies of race and creed revive their wonted sway, - Impart a zest to willing minds, a force to vigorous hand, - And nerve the soldier's arm to fight for king and fatherland. - - On came brave Gallia's war-like sons; shone helm, and sword, and plume; - - On like a mountain cataract which rushes to its doom - Of loss amid the foaming surge that sweeps o'er ocean bed; - So more the surge of battle sweep o'er many a noble head. - No further halt! the voice is raised, the expectant order given, - When, loud as if a thunder bolt had rent the vaulted heaven, - Out belched from thousand iron throats a thousand tongues of fire; - Out flashed the British musketry as torch for funeral pyre. - - The blow long pending, did its work among the assailing host; - Who stood the shock, through blinding smoke could see that all was lost. - Still Montcalm strove, with voice of cheer, due order to retain; - His veterans, by a small redoubt, he marshalled once again. - But vain! ah vain, his arduous task! the stronghold of Quebec - Was doomed to slip from Gallia's hand;--yet rise from out the wreck - A queenly city on the wave, a beacon on the sea, - Fair monument of Britain's might in Canada the free! - - Short space the balance wavered--one fierce and final blow, - And the flower of Europe's chivalry on foreign field lay low. - - Ere golden beams of noontide spread their glory o'er the sky, - The plain was sodden, far and near, with streams of crimson dye, - And din of battle slackened, save tread of flying feet-- - Pursuers hurrying onward to intercept retreat; - Whilst on the field of carnage, of groans and shattered spear, - The rival Chieftains won their right to grace red glory's bier. - - Serene of soul in youth's bright dawn, Wolfe laid him down to die; - From strife profound, from mortal pain, peace gently closed his eye. - Whilst Montcalm, loyal to the core, avowed with parting breath - His greatest guerdon in defeat, to die a soldier's death. - True brotherhood of heroism! in God's eternal laws, - One equal spirit ruled their course, however adverse their cause. - And high on pedestal of Fame, where victors bear the palm, - Beside the British General there stands the brave Montcalm. - - -IV. - -THE SURRENDER. - - Just Spirit! from the empyrean heights, regard this lower clime! - From anthems of eternity, from angel theme sublime - - Look down upon those woe-worn lives, replete of misery! - Stretch forth Thine arm to stem the tide of mortal agony! - The groaning years have waited long to hail the reign of peace, - Omnipotence give forth Thy word, bid war and tumult cease! - Then harmony shall tune its chords; for plaintive, low-voiced song - Rejoicings of a ransomed world shall seraph notes prolong. - - Since passion waged the bloody deed that slew by Eden's gate, - The earth hath borne its bitter fruit of envy's cruel hate; - Even God in man is crushed beneath insatiate thirst of gain, - A thirst unquenched though streams of blood have purpled earth and main. - Oh rarely beauteous, blooming world! why should the true and brave, - Whilst meaner souls usurp thy joys, claim but in thee a grave! - Thou, Oh Supreme! Whose glory lit confusion's dreary night, - Out cast the chaos of the years, inflood Thy glorious light! - - Power Benign! Thy influence shed, the brutal passions tame! - Let pure and holy altar light, from clear cerulean flame, - - Beam into dark and vile recess of evil's inmost heart! - Incite the nobler sentiments to act the nobler part! - Then war no more shall devastate the work of toilsome hand, - Nor wailing tones of hunger-pain sigh o'er a fruitful land; - Into Oblivion's direst shades shall wrong and woe be hurled, - And cycles of millennial bliss illume a sinless world. - - Dragged up were the ponderous guns, dragged up the slippery hill;-- - What task too hard for British hands when backed by British will? - Impelled o'er war-worn field of death, of visage stained and scarred, - Till set against the citadel, a grim, relentless guard. - Out echoes through the silent streets the cannon's dolesome boom, - The famine-struck are fain to feel sure bodings of their doom;-- - Four lingering days of torture, when exhausted nature calls - To sheathe the patriot sword and leave the long-loved native halls. - - Full tenderly the mellow light of Autumn's tranquil hours - In splendor decked the forest shades and gilt the wayside flowers, - Rose-tinted all the fleecy clouds which flecked the arc of blue, - Reflecting on the sullen wave a brighter, warmer hue. - - Yet, in its placid majesty, from out that sky serene, - That Autumn sun looked down upon a sad and bitter scene; - Starvation's wan and wasted cheek, the crushed soul of the brave, - The tomb of those who nobly earned a patriot-soldier's grave. - - Lay down thine arms, Oh, hero-heart! thou shamest not thy crest; - They own no coward vassalage who bow at Heaven's behest; - Though from the river and the tree there vanisheth for aye - The ensign which so proudly bore the brunt of many a fray, - Yet honor bideth with thee still, and though thy _fleur-de-lis_ - Is grafted in the English rose, thou bend'st a faithful knee - At thy faith's shrine; thy language lives, nor shall thy glory fade - While snows o'ermantle mountain steep, or zephyrs fan the glade. - - Thou, Conqueror! whose ancient flag floats out on every breeze, - Whose power is felt, whose might is owned by nigh and further seas; - To thee is given a wider scope within this sphere of change, - To work out mightier designs upon a vaster range, - Thwart not thy royal prestige, hold not thy royal hand, - - But open wider, still more wide, this haven for every land; - This boundless, fair, Canadian land--land of especial grace, - Where freedom yieldeth equal rights to every creed and race. - - Still, peerless Queen of peerless land! in nature's choicest zone - Thou sitt'st in regal dignity upon thy rocky throne; - The glorious memories of the past thy future glories greet, - And fadeless laurels wreathe thy brow, as ocean laves thy feet. - Fair home of faithful, loyal hearts! shrine of the mighty dead! - Whose valor rested not till hid within its gory bed; - Right royal sitt'st thou on thy heights, with Empire's flag unfurled, - The brightest gem by sea or plain of all this Western World. - -[Illustration] - - - - -PERSONAL. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -OUR QUEEN. - -MAY 24TH. - - - Loved Queen of Scotia's bonnie braes! - Of Erin's, England's homes; - This day thy people speak thy praise - Where'er the exile roams. - - By gorgeous India's ancient fanes; - On Greenland's banks of snow; - Where, o'er Columbia's boundless plains, - Majestic rivers flow. - - On frozen seas, in balmy air, - By forest's dusky green - Ariseth up to heaven the prayer:-- - "God bless our gracious Queen!" - - God guide her through the evening light - To where no shadows frown; - Nor sorrow's pall, nor darksome night - Will dim _that_ lustrous crown. - - Let earthly glory sink in night; - Life's record, without stain, - Shall cast an ever-hallowed light - Across Victoria's reign. - - 'Tis not that Britain's martial prow - In every port appears; - Nor that the flag which streameth now - Hath waved a thousand years. - - 'Tis not the sceptre, nor the sword, - Nor gold, nor precious stone; - True sympathy hath knit the cord - That binds us to the Throne. - - Thy sires, in siege and battle field - Full bravely bore their part; - But, without strife to thee doth yield - The fortress of the heart. - - Not land from weakling nations rent - Shall keep thy memory green; - But this--thy lasting monument-- - She was _the peoples' Queen_. - - - - -THE PRINCESS OF WALES - -1863--1892. - - - Seems it yestreen since we - First hailed thee, beautous bride! - Sweet-smiling, by the side - Of Him, our king to be. - - Cheek of the pink sea-shell; - Eyes of the summer blue, - - Locks of the brown-gold hue; - Voice clear as silver bell. - - The myriads crowd the street; - Glad music, nigh and far, - Outsoundeth earthly jar; - And tenders welcome meet. - - * * * * * - - Once more thy form I see, - Amid thy family band - Save one, on Scottish strand, - And twain--where seraphs be. - - Nor fled thy winsome grace; - Nor did thy beauty fade, - Though sad bereavement's shade - Hath paled thy peerless face. - - Still sway with gentle hand; - Still live thy lovesome life - Fond mother! faithful wife! - First princess of first land. - -[Illustration] - - - - -CANADA - -TO - -H. R. H. PRINCE GEORGE. - -MAY 4TH, 1893. - - - Time was when tyrants reigned, - When law was law for naught; - When man, with mind distraught, - Knelt with allegiance feigned. - - Now, in these ampler days - When dews of peace distil, - When all may climb who will, - Just souls may justly praise. - - Ours was thine earlier sorrow; - Ours is thy later joy; - No base, unmeet alloy; - No faithless, vague to-morrow. - - But tender, soulful, true; - O'er leagues of greening plain, - From east to western main, - 'Neath all our brightening blue. - - Knit by love's kindred tie, - Heart wafteth unto heart - Weal, time nor space may part: - Best gift from low or high. - - Best gifts, Oh Prince! be thine - In whom our hopes repose; - Thine, and thy English Rose; - Till crowned of crown divine. - - - - -GLADSTONE. - - - Vain be the rare genius of sage or of scholar, - Philosophy's nursling, or gifted of song; - Vain, minds of rich culture, with tones of choice music, - If cradled in falsity, nurtured in wrong. - - But cloudless the intellect sunned of fair Freedom; - Full lofty the soul which, with feelings refined, - Doth lift up a voice for the weal of the nations; - Ennobling with sympathy all of his kind. - - Fair Freedom! thou star in the night of the ages! - Thou radiant in fervor! thou essence divine! - He! highest in soul-height, doth build up thine altars; - While devotees faithful, bend low at thy shrine. - - The far-seeing wisdom of mercy which hailed thee, - Hath wooed thee to listen the suppliant's song; - Hath wooed and hath won thee through love, lit of reason;-- - Heaven's benison laurel the healer of wrong! - - - - -SIR JOHN A. MACDONALD. - -BORN 11TH JAN., 1815--DIED 6TH JUNE, 1891. - - - Dimmed thy bright eyes, Oh Canada! - Bedimmed with the incense of woe; - Hushed thy young joy-peals of laughter; - Whose heart beat to thine lieth low. - Great heart! which, in truest devotion, - Kept faith to its earliest shrine; - Great land! widely girthed of each ocean; - His lifetime of service was thine. - - Well mays't thou weep, yet not repine; - Rude wert thou, an untutored child, - When first his strong, firm hand clasped thine, - And led thee o'er thy boundless wild, - And cleared the mists from thy young eyes, - As with magician's gifted wand; - Till Hope's bright dawn illumed thy skies, - And glorified this boundless land. - - The mind astute discerned thy force; - The springs of plenty watered dearth; - Then rose, from infound, ample source, - The mightiest structure on this earth: - The home where freeborn souls are free; - Where, 'neath blue skies, o'er rich green sod - No worship bends the humble knee, - Save homage to fair Freedom's God. - - Though sore thy heart, Oh Canada! - Grudge not thy Chief his well-earned rest; - The veteran who hath braved the strife - May fold his arms o'er peaceful breast. - Droop banners o'er his honored bier! - Strew _immortelles_ of every clime! - His larger life, in nobler sphere, - Is bounded not with hedge of time. - - - - -HON. ALEX. MACKENZIE. - -BORN 28TH JANY., 1822--DIED 17TH APRIL, 1892. - - - Draw nigh with reverence, Canada! - Beyond all strain of mortal toil - He lieth, with unstained crest - Calm-sleeping on his chosen soil. - No higher boon may patriot crave - Than grateful country's honest tear; - Whilst Faith, outreaching 'yond the grave, - With stainless emblem decks the bier. - - Rare mind! firm as the granite stone - From out thy much-loved Scottish hills; - Soul! clear as sunlight's upper zone - When smiling o'er Canadian rills. - Oh! well for thee, beloved land! - That, ripening to thy golden prime, - Stout hearts, and faithful held thine hand - And led thee on to ampler time. - - Embalm his memory, Canada! - Nor taint with ill his honored name - - Who loved thee dearer than his life; - Who, serving thee, rejected fame. - Not now, through many an after year; - In cool, calm retrospect of time, - Shall all his sterling worth appear, - In grandeur fitting and sublime. - - Though stilled the aims of lofty end; - Though leaders in the field lie low; - Heaven's purposes shall onward tend, - As ocean wavelets shoreward flow. - Wail not! _he_ walketh in the light - His work, imbued with high intent, - Doth magnify a country's might, - And build his fairest monument. - - - - -IN MEMORIAM.[Note] - - - Falling! all noiselessly falling! - Dim-golden, and russet and grey; - Leaves of the Autumn soul telling, - Earth's loveliness passeth away. - - _Here_ the rich strains of rare music, - Borne upwards of summer's soft gale, - Are lost in the sigh of earth's sorrows, - Or sunk in bereavement's sad wail. - - _There_ shall dear households long severed - Rejoice in the anthem sublime; - - Hosannas of spirits united - Shall echo o'er dirges of time. - - Sickness and pain shall evanish; - The years, with their sorrow shall cease;-- - O'er the glad souls of the ransomed - Eternity rolleth in peace. - - - - -BISHOP MACINTYRE. - - - On Canaan's border land, - By Jordan's watery gates, - The host of Israel waits;-- - They mourn the Guiding-Hand. - - With firm, free step he trod - On Pisgah's mountain crest; - He laid him down to rest; - Alone! save with his God. - - He sighed no faint farewell; - No murmuring refrains - Out-echoed angel strains; - Nor tolled dull funeral knell. - - Thus, as in days gone by - Great leader! careful guide! - God called thee hence, aside; - We might not see thee die. - - Yet we have seen--may see - Thy work of nobler life; - The courage through the strife; - Deeds testify of thee. - - Rest well! Oh silvered head! - Voice ever prone to bless, - To soothe the soul's distress, - Peace to thy lowly bed! - - Though next thy heart, thine own; - Thy sympathies, world wide - Flowed, with unstinted tide; - Bedewed each mortal zone. - - Rest well! ye feet which trod - That straight and narrow way - Illumed of purer ray; - Quintessence of our God. - - Soul! which hath soared afar, - Beyond the flight of time; - In calm, congenial clime, - No ills thy joys may mar. - - Fair spirit! just and wise; - Kind heart of largess love! - Christ-life, all creeds above; - Rest thou in kindred skies. - - More glorious eve's bright sun, - More dull seems dolesome night; - So, lost thy glorious light; - And yet--Heaven's will be done. - - - - -BISHOP BROOKS. - -THE STUDENTS OF HARVARD AWAITING THE FUNERAL CORTEGE. - - - Why, with uncovered head - Stand they upon that fleece of snow - Mute-stricken, as of sudden woe? - Silent they wait the dead. - - Comes there some hero slain - Upon the blood-red field of war? - With soldier-guarded funeral car, - And glittering martial train. - - No gun with sullen roar; - No flaunting emblems from the fight - To spread his fame, to tell his might; - Who died, to die no more. - - With reverend tread, and slow, - All noiselessly the footsteps fall; - As sombre garb, and plume and pall - Pass o'er the soft, white snow. - - 'Mid Love's choice offering - Of sweet, rare flowers, whose tender breath - Speak brightest life, serenest death, - He lies, affection's king. - - Triumph of Christian faith - O'er spurious sophistries of time; - The sinless walk; the end sublime, - No ghastly fears to scathe. - - Pass on unto thy rest - Thou generous heart! thou rich in lore! - Thou whom all creeds and castes deplore;-- - God knoweth what is best. - - - - -AFTER MANY YEARS. - - - If e'er from holier heights there sped - One attribute divine, - To rest upon a mortal head,-- - That head, dear love! was thine. - - True worth beyond expression towers; - Excess in language mars;-- - What artist e'er inspired the flowers, - Or lighted up the stars? - - - - -TENNYSON. - -ANSWER TO "CROSSING THE BAR." - - - Clear-shining, evening star! - We make no moan for thee - Who sightest, 'yond the bar, - Blest immortality! - - Yet, at thy farewell tone, - Thou glorious poet-king! - The tears unbidden spring - From peoples of each zone. - - So long, from loftier sphere, - Thy pure and lustrous rays - Have lit earth's sombre ways:-- - No sky may own thy peer. - - Oh, never-dying song! - Oh, princely legacy! - Till life shall living be - Thou'lt thrill, the years along. - - Mist wreathe, or ocean foam; - The beacon shineth clear, - The joy-bells sound anear, - Beyond the bar is--Home! - - Clear-shining, evening star! - We make no moan for thee - Who sightest 'yond the bar, - Blest immortality. - -[Illustration] - - - - -SPURGEON. - -"NOTHING BUT FAITH." - - - Thine was no faith of pulseless form, - Of actor, acting well his _role_; - Or deeming, through mere solemn rites, - To nourish the immortal soul, - Nor thine that bare and stunted growth, - To limits of a sect confined; - Expanding not in broader realm - Than atmosphere by man defined. - - Nor thine that crude philosophy - Whose meteor-flash hath oft beguiled - The traveller from clear mountain heights, - To perish on the misty wild. - No gloomy cypress wreath for thee! - Oh brow unkenned of bigot frown! - Fair coronet of laurel leaves; - Meet emblem of thy fadeless crown. - - Bright as the pure, cerulean arch, - _Thy_ faith all creeds and rites doth span - And sees, through Love's refining lens, - The Deity in brother man. - With active, humanizing power, - Uplifts the soul, low sunk in sin; - Till, yielding to its tender touch, - The chains unbar--God enters in. - - - - -BEECHER. - -THE LAST TIME IN PLYMOUTH CHURCH. - - - The organ grandly pealed; - Still rose the peaceful hymn; - The lights, though waxing dim, - A beauteous sight revealed. - - From off the busy street - Into the sacred pile, - Adown the shadowy aisle - Came little wandering feet. - - Secure from fear of harm, - With eager, upturned face, - The lone ones rest a space; - Joy-filled of music's charm. - - Forgot their hapless fate; - Forgot cold, worlding scorn; - Unseen the life forlorn; - Seems nigh heaven's golden gate. - - Upriseth from his seat - He of a world-wide fame; - He of the lustrous name, - Those nameless ones to greet. - - The mightiest orb on high - Doth kiss the meanest flower; - True love, in bounteous shower, - Doth rift earth's formal sky. - - Stoops low the silvered head - To kiss the smooth young brow, - To seal the sacred vow - Which life-long fragrance shed. - - And tenderly his arms - Those boyish forms enfold; - As if, o'er life's drear wold, - He'd shield from rude alarms. - - Thus pass they from the sight, - From out the vaulted door;-- - _He_ walks the pearly floor, - _They_ grope through dismal night. - - Oh scene surpassing fair! - Soul-filling, all sublime; - Undimmed of dark'ning time, - Unlit of earthly glare. - - Fair soul of tenderness! - Unselfish, meek and mild, - The waif, the outcast child - Thou deignest to caress. - - Sweet, humanizing love! - Beyond choice gifts of mind, - 'Yond culture most refined; - Bright essence from above! - - Columbia! brave young land! - Long is thy scroll of fame; - Full many a deathless name - Hath led thee by the hand. - - High on that scroll of fame, - Whilst hero echoes ring, - Whilst votaries pause to sing, - Shall glow thy Beecher's name. - - - - -ALLELUIA. - - - No more upon Parnassus' hill - Thou'lt string thy patriot lyre; - To tell those feats which nations thrill, - Which youthful spirits fire. - How, on the blood-red battle field - Great heroes fall, but never yield; - True courage is the only shield - Thy whole-souled Briton owns. - - No more thou'lt sing thy graceful lays - Of rock, and mount, and stream; - Or cause the light from Heaven's pure rays - O'er nature's face to beam. - We heard the rustle of the tree, - The humming of the busy bee, - When nature waked to life with thee - In joyous harmony. - - But though thy harp is silent now, - And hearts may mourn thee long; - Where halos crown the victor's brow - Thou sing'st the angels' song. - Dust mingles with its kindred dust, - Soul joins the army of the just;-- - Their Leader was thy hope and trust - Through life's long pilgrimage. - - - - -"THREE YEARS." - - - Here the pain, and gloom and sorrow, - Here the household lone and sad; - _There_ the ever-bright to-morrow, - There the youthful spirit glad. - _Here_ the parents vigil keeping - O'er the beauteous head laid low; - _There_ the eyes which know no weeping - Shall with rapture ever glow. - - Bright as were the sunny tresses - Curling o'er the fair, young brow, - Richer far the crown that presses - Round his seraph forehead now. - Clear and chaste as crystal seemeth, - Worthless is it 'side the gem; - So, howe'er earth's beauty gleameth, - Pales its 'fore Heaven's diadem. - - Now, his gracious word believing, - Who on earth with woe did weep, - Mingle trustful joy with grieving - O'er the loved, who rests in sleep. - For, where groups of children gather, - He hath joined the choir of praise - Which, around our Heavenly Father, - Chants the hymn of deathless days. - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE EVENING STAR. - - - I sit me down at eventide - Day's cares receding far, - When sweet! a whisper at my side, - "Mama, come see my star!" - - "The only one in all the sky - Away up--Oh, so far! - And yet it shines so beautiful, - My own, dear, lovely star!" - - Oh! child of many hopes and fears; - Of many an anxious thought; - Oh life! with parents' prayers and tears, - So oft from Heaven besought. - - If spared to pass the tender years - Of infancy and truth; - God keep thee through the slippery path - Of boyhood, and of youth. - - And guide thee by His own right hand - In wisdom's pleasant way; - And never in foul vice's snares - Permit thy feet to stray. - - And when that love which gazeth now - Into thy sunny eyes - Can only come, at God's good will - In message from the skies. - - Oh! should the tempter's net be spread, - Look upward! do not fear; - From 'yond thy star, a mother's love - Will shine thy way to cheer. - - If e'er thou reachest manhood's prime, - 'Mid pleasures of this world - Let ever, in truth's sacred cause - Thy banner be unfurled. - - May all the graces which adorn - Great minds in thee excel; - May't long be said of thee "he served - His generation well." - - Thy emblem be yon evening star; - Aye steady in its light; - Calm-peering o'er a world of change; - Ne'er stooping from its height. - - When darkness deepens all around, - And rivals fill the field; - Let faith and courage arm thy soul, - And form thy radiant shield. - - Then, when thy golden hue of morn - Gives place to sober grey; - And years which never-ending seem - Have fled like one short day. - - Relying on that Mighty One - Who raised the starry frame; - Who through life's changes, toils and tears, - Abideth still the same. - - Thy feet shall out the swelling flood, - Step safe upon the strand; - And mayhap then, a mother's love - Again shall clasp thy hand, - And lead thee, 'yond thy shining star, - Into the deathless land. - - - - -RHYMES OF ANCIENT ROME. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -HORATIUS. - -B.C. 650. - - - A plan of fair devising when battle feuds were rife; - To save by lesser sacrifice, a needless waste of life. - Three brothers Curiatii, choice of the Alban band, - Against three brothers Horatii, Rome's proffered champions, stand; - Should Horatii assert their might, the Alban arms would yield, - If Curiatii, then should Rome to servile fate be sealed. - - Well fought those manly combatants in sight of either host; - The struggle wavered long and keen, high hopes were rudely tossed; - But strength, upborne of courage, wanes before time's fatal throes, - The brave may strive yet striving fall, as fell those rival foes - Save one, who owed to strategy what prowess might not yield, - A Horatii stood conqueror on Alba's blood-stained field. - - Rome is avowed the victor, the battle-sword is sheathed, - And round Horatius' youthful head gay triumph's crown is wreathed: - - 'Mid gratulations of the camp, 'mid cheerings of the throng - The hero who hath slain to save, is proudly borne along, - When Hark! beyond the joyous notes which stir the balmy air - Upwafteth to his ears the sad reproaches of despair. - - "Oh! woe for my beloved! - My love who loved me so; - Oh cruel hand! Oh evil fate! - Which laid the mighty low. - - "Oh brother! dearly hast thou earned - Thy country's noblest boon; - Thou'st quenched the lustre of my life - Ere reached its bright, high noon. - - "Thou comest laden rich with spoils, - Thy valor to attest; - One only trophy greets mine eye, - _His_ cloak upon thy breast. - - "Go! list the plaudits of the crowd - Whose liberties you save; - One only voice thrills through my soul, - _That_ voice from out the grave. - - "For thee shall golden goblets pour, - And glorious rosebays twine; - For me--my heart lies low with his - Whose heart was wholly mine." - - Oh maiden! for that prudence which looks beyond the hour; - - Oh for that subtle wisdom which holds the key of power! - For calm and callous reasoning, which worketh out its plan, - Which checketh honest principle, and dupeth craft of man. - As in these nigher ages, so in those earlier days, - Keen wit, cool wisdom e'er dissolve beneath Love's fervent rays. - - Is it fatigue of battle? why pales the warrior now? - Is it chagrin in triumph's hour which clouds that martial brow? - Both lend their aid, yet greater far than aught on earth beside, - The sore and bitter struggle 'twixt love and wounded pride; - 'Twixt patriot-love and brother-love, the love of life's young day; - When sympathy of sisterhood charmed every grief away. - - Horatius paused; out flashed the sword which drank her lover's blood; - He plunged it in his sister's heart, he slew her where she stood; - And, as he sheathed the reeking blade which struck the dastard blow, - "So perish every maid" he said "who wails a Roman foe!" - Oh cruel fate! Oh hapless twain! Oh tragic scenes of old! - Go! thank high Heaven these later times are cast in Christian mould. - - - - -PYRRHUS. - -AFTER HIS DEFEAT OF THE ROMAN ARMY. - -B.C. 280. - - - "If these were my soldiers," he said, - As he glanced o'er the gory field - Where mingled the dying and dead - Of foemen who knew not to yield. - "If these were my soldiers, with standard unfurled, - I should gather the reins of a vanquished world. - - "Seven times did we charge on the foe; - As oft did we order retreat; - Seven times, till the ebb and the flow - Brought the battle-tide under our feet. - Yet, unto destruction their courage held fast, - Till destiny weighted the balance at last. - - "A victor! yet mourning the lost! - The flower of my army, my pride, - Who led in the conquering host - Lie mute as the serfs by their side. - Oh! mothers of Epirus, what shall atone! - Must the victor ride back with his laurels--alone! - - "Unmatched as to numbers we met; - Well mated in ardor we fought; - Ah! never was victory yet - With bloodier sacrifice bought. - Peace be to our dead 'neath Lucanian sods! - Let Valour high-niche them in shrine of the gods! - - "But _these_! of Rome's valiant who fell; - Who flinched not, but met every blow - With prowess no language may tell; - With face ever set to the foe. - If these were _my_ soldiers, with standard unfurled, - I should reign, the one king of a whole conquered world." - - So is it in life's bitter warfare; - When hosts of wrong-doing assail, - The bravest in spirit, the truest of soul - In heat of the battle oft fail. - They lack in a leader, they parry each blow, - Yet fall in the conflict with face to the foe. - - Legions of evil confronting - Firm-footed, position maintain; - Look thou to thine able Commander! - The foeman shall muster in vain. - In phalanx well marshaled, with standard unfurled, - Thou shalt combat and conquer a whole sinning world. - -[Illustration] - - - - -MARIUS. - -SEATED ON THE RUINS OF CARTHAGE. - -B.C. 86. - - - What voiceth thy bright waters? Oh Sea of the summer clime! - Thou mirror of life's history! thou orator sublime! - What sing thy laughing wavelets as they dance along thy shore? - What moan thy heaving surges, as they sway with sullen roar? - Thou tellest to the breezes soft, which fan thy breast of pride, - That pomp and glory of a world once nestled by thy side; - Thou singest, in the purling wave, quaint rhythms of romance, - Of witching queens and warriors bold, of siege and glistering lance; - Thou wailest, in sad monotone, o'er empires gone for aye; - Thou smilest in benign repose upon this freer day. - - Alone on the crumbling ruins! bowed low his aged head; - Life's wreck 'mid shattered monuments, sole mourners o'er the dead; - Meet emblem of capricious fate, which scorns decrees of man; - Meet site for an exile's musing on Treachery's subtle plan. - - Great city of the salt sea wave, on Afric's burnished shore! - That gleaming wave which wailed the dirge of those it proudly bore - To battle in a vain defense, to sleep the sleep profound - Within no sculptured sepulchre, beneath no hallowed ground. - Great Carthage the magnificent! when Slaughter rung thy knell, - Even from thy victor's war-strained eyes, unwonted tear-drops fell. - - A fugitive sat Marius; despondent and alone; - Well-nigh forgot of enemies, forsaken of his own. - Where now that voice of terror, those eyes of flashing light - Which awed the Cymbrian jailor, which urged his coward flight? - Where now that haughty form and mien which led the Roman bands - To smite Europa's barbarous hordes back from the classic lands? - Mute are the plaudits of the crowd, seared are the harvest sheaves; - Quenched the chimera light of flame, which gilt the laurel leaves; - Had vanished, as a taunting sprite, those dreams ambition nursed; - The very stones on which he sat were of the gods accursed. - - Which is the happier? he who strives the higher heights to gain, - - Or he who mingles in the crowd that throngs the nether plain? - Ask ye Ambition's tortured brain if vulgar hue and cry - The craving of the loftier mood doth fully satisfy: - Ask of keen Avarice if its hoard e'er soothed a sin-fraught breast, - Or purchased peace of mind, or charmed a conscience into rest. - I wot 'tis safer far to bide in calm contentment's vale, - And o'er the placid inland seas to peaceful moorings sail. - Even those whose largess, honest worth doth merit just renown - What are they save the shining mark for Envy to uncrown. - - Doth muse Oh Marius! on that hour when blasts of martial horn - Across thy peasant heritage through haunts of toil were borne? - When thy young heart throbbed high to join that glittering array, - Which owned thee chief in valor's van through many an after day. - Dost storm Numantia's battlements, whence arrows showered as rain? - Dost stand in thickest of the fight on crimsoned fields of Spain? - Or sittest thou an honored guest, where flows the festive tide? - Thy plebeian birth no barrier, by Africanus' side? - Dost list that certain prophecy that should his race be run, - - The mantle of his might should fall on thee, great Valor's son? - - Raise up thy head, Oh Marius! look forth ayond the wave! - Yield not to dire despondency; ills conquer not the brave; - Think of thy former exile, then of that glorious hour - When suffrage of the multitude invested thee with power: - When Rome's patricians bent the knee around thy self-built throne, - And all the wills of every land succumbed unto thine own: - Though Envy forged the coward chains which dragged thy scepter down, - It may not wrest from memory thy record of renown; - Arise! reward of courage waits, the dismal night is o'er; - That sun is dawning which will flush thy Civic crown once more. - -[Illustration] - - - - -BRUTUS. - -THE LAST CAMPAIGN. - -B.C. 42. - - - The warrior doffed his heavy helm, - Unclasped the sheath from off his breast; - He turned aside from sword and lance, - Yet sought no couch of needful rest. - - His soul was filled with new, strange dread, - Since haunting ghosts of evil done - Uprose, and banished from his mind - All war plans for the rising sun. - - Again the blazing holocaust - Of patriot Xanthus greets his eyes; - Again before his ruthless hand - The plundered Lycian peasant flies. - - Once more within the Senate House - He lists those accents, full and clear, - Which plead the sacred rights of Rome;-- - Brave warrior! statesman without peer! - - He sees the quivering sunbeams play - Upon the sandal's burnished gold; - And light the gorgeous Tyrian dyes - Which deck that form of princely mould, - - Then stream o'er proud, patrician crest - Down to the swaying mass below; - - Whose wills imbibe the speaker's will, - As well aimed darts from high strung bow. - - Ingrate, he joins the dastard few - That round the mighty Caesar stand, - And stains his weapon to the hilt - With noblest blood in Roman land. - - He hears the astonished "Brutus, thou!" - He marks the sad, reproachful eye, - Ere, wrapped within the toga folds, - The lofty head bows down to die. - - No war blast wakes a sleeping world; - Deep silence broodeth o'er the camp; - Still, careless as to wanted rest - Sits Brutus by the flickering lamp. - - Is it a phantom, that giant form, - Or spirit to human shape lent, - Which glideth, with never a warning, - From shadow land into the tent? - - Of stature majestic; erect; - Terrific of feature, stern-eyed; - No token, save only a look; - Such look as all welcome defied. - - "Thy name," said the awe struck warrior - "Thy name and thy purpose unfold?" - His tones wore the mask of fortitude, - But the stream from his heart ran cold. - - "My name"--and the dark scowl deepened - As the lips of the mystic unsealed; - "My name is--thy genius of evil;-- - We shall meet on Philippi's red field!" - - Hushed were the dire, prophetic tones; - The vision vanished as it came; - But, from that hour in Brutus' soul - Was crushed Ambition's furious flame. - - No more he dreamt to enter Rome - In laurel-wreathed triumphal car; - With captive monarchs in his train, - With spoils and trophies from afar. - - Nor e'er to quaff the festive bowl - 'Neath purple canopy of state; - Whilst bard and sage his feats rehearse, - And martial throngs his bidding wait. - - Ah, Caesar! thou wert well avenged, - When on its lowly, greenwood bed, - Defeated valour stooped to swell - The army of ignoble dead. - - Though on those ancient battle-fields, - Sapped with the blood of myriad slain, - The suns of centuries have smiled, - And reapers gathered golden grain. - - Though pomp and power of ancient Rome - With Roman idols passed away, - The thirst of power, and greed of gain - Live on to mar this later day. - - Still boastful arrogance excels, - And moneyed ignorance soareth high; - Still fashion rules the world of sham; - Still man for man in strife must die. - - Yet, sure as rills from mountain source - Through varied channels seaward run; - So surely ill will track the course - Of him that hath the evil done. - - And conscience seared, lethargic-souled, - Who deal in evil to the last - Must realize, beyond the bourne, - Deserved doom, and mercy past. - - - - -MARCUS CURTIUS. - -A LEGEND. - - - Still, in these balmier days of Rome, - The mother tells her child - That once, within the Forum, oped - A chasm deep and wild. - - That every heart, with horror chilled, - Unto the altar hied; - Soothsayers, augurs sought the cause, - Yet answer was denied. - - At length an aged seer proclaimed, - "The gods will vengeance wreak, - - Till choicest gift, cast in the gulf, - Doth penitence bespeak." - - The mother shuddering, clasps her babe - More closely to her breast; - The warrior who ne'er feared a foe - Bends low his mailed crest. - - The heartless miser hugs his gold; - Affection claims its own; - Yet, mystery beyond all ken, - Such gifts might ill atone. - - 'Neath blackened sky the wind moans on, - Wide yawns the dark abyss;-- - Oh Heavens! was ever sore suspense - Or terror like to this! - - * * * * * - - Hark! sweet as angel symphony, - "'Tis found! the offering's found!" - And forward press the eager throng - To find due vantage ground. - - What star descendeth through the gloom - To rift dark sorrow's night? - Is't hero from the battle field, - Or monarch girt with might? - - Up rides young Marcus Curtius - Upon his milk white steed; - No word, but waving of the hand, - As he dashes on with speed. - - Unto the dreary chasm's mouth;-- - The frighted charger springs, - He rears, he snorts, and foamy flakes - O'er Curtius' armor flings. - - Fair picture for all spheres and times! - Upon death's borderland, - One gleam of sunshine for his crown, - See Rome's self martyr stand! - - He gently soothed his noble horse; - Then, as from silver bell, - Upon the wondering multitude, - His calm, clear accents fell. - - "Romans!" he said, "not arms, not wealth - Heaven claims of you this day; - Nor gifts of wisdom, love or lore, - Howe'er so precious they. - - "Hear me, Oh citizens of Rome! - This lesson richly prize; - Best gift and parent of good deeds - Is true _self_-sacrifice. - - "I offer to the immortal gods, - Who hark my solemn vow, - That life which for my country lived; - Which dieth for it now." - - He backed his steed; threw down his casque - Gazed on the Sacred Height; - Then--forward to the vast abyss - As soldier to the fight. - - With right hand raised above his head, - His sword within its sheath, - He urges on the maddened steed - Which bears him to his death. - - One moment, and with mighty bound, - He plunges to repose; - One dull, sad sound; but one, and then-- - The yawning gulf doth close. - -[Illustration] - - - - -CRAWFURD CASTLE. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -CRAWFURD CASTLE. - - -I. - - 'Yond many a crimsoned thorn-hedge - In that sweet English vale - Where violet, pink and eglantine - Waft incense on the gale. - - Where from the wayside hillocks smile - Gay groups of golden-rod; - And 'neath the shade of branching elm, - The lithe-limbed bluebells nod. - - Beneath that lofty, grey stone arch; - Beneath that sculptured crest; - Betwixt those pillars huge, whereon - Heraldic lions rest. - - Up through green woods of storied fame; - Where squire with hawk and hound, - And monarch with his glittering train - Had sought a hunting ground. - - Unto that gently rising slope; - There Crawfurd Castle stands, - With lordship, far as eye can reach, - O'er all the County lands. - - But why, in its kingly grandeur - Of terrace, arch and tower, - Stands that fair structure mute and lone - As hermit in his bower? - - * * * * * - - On this same Crawfurd Castle, nigh fourscore years agone, - The morning dawned full cheerily, the sun as brightly shone, - The rooks rehearsed their noisy caw, the lark trilled roundelay - As if this sorrow-freighted world rejoiced in holiday. - - Anear the Gothic window, through which the orient beams - Fell in subdued radiance o'er young life's happy dreams, - Sat one whose noble form and mien, firm step and shapely hand - - Proclaimed him born with either right, to serve or to command. - - This day was of his happy life, the happiest, brightest far, - For a blissful calm had fallen on a bitter family jar; - The Earl had yielded; on the morn his loved and only son - With full consent would wed with her whose heart had long been won. - - She was no child of fortune the lady of his choice; - A lovely face, a faultless form, a clear and kindly voice - Were hers, with wealth of tenderness, and heart of honest love, - Which prized him for his own true worth all other claims above. - - She was no peeress of the realm; no high born titled dame, - To lead the dance in glittering halls where myriad jewels flame; - To circle in the slippery round of fashion's giddy throng; - To charm the audience with a sound whence dwells no soul of song. - - Yet, brighter to her lover's eyes those coils of golden hair - Than coronet of strawberry leaves, o'ertopped with pearlets rare; - - And dearer to her lover's heart those accents sweet and low - Than choicest melody of art, or studied music's flow. - - So Viscount Edwin sat and dreamed bright dreams of after hours - When the curate's winsome daughter should reign at Crawfurd towers; - And a new, sweet peace stole o'er him as he thought of all the scorn - With which the Earl had spoken of the maiden lowly born. - - How he had pointed to their sires, and reasoned of disgrace, - While bitter disappointment had paled his noble face; - Then how, relenting for the sake of her long since in heaven, - He'd ta'en his boy unto his heart, and seeming wrong forgiven. - - Then o'er the dreamer's youthful face there stooped a passing cloud; - But an angel voice made whisper beyond the satin shroud, - As a gentle hand pressed tenderly upon the smooth, white brow, - "I loved thee, Oh my little one!--I love and bless thee now." - - -II. - - "Dear Cousin Ida! on this day I crave thy special grace!" - The red tide surged in angry force; deep flushed the comely face. - "I may not wish you well," she said, "it cannot come to me - That aught could ever bridge the gulf 'twixt such as her--and thee." - - Lord Edwin proffered no reply; she was his childhood's friend; - "Come Fido!" to his faithful hound, "our cheerful way we'll wend - Across the park, adown the mead, on to the river's side - Where, 'neath the jasmine's fragrant shade, the glad hours quickly - glide." - - Oh! lightly o'er the heart of youth life's scathing breezes blow; - To vanish, as 'fore noonday sun, the first, soft flakes of snow; - And smiles the buoyant hope of youth as smiles the tranquil shore - When Ocean, having spent his wrath, retreats with sullen roar. - - At early morn the nuptial peals rang forth full merrily; - Before the lark sang matin song the village stirred with glee; - - The aged church looked young again, in arch and pillar green, - As through the quaint, old diamond panes peeped in the rising sheen. - - A joyous crowd hath filled the pews; along the sacred walls, - Even as a benediction, the orient glory falls; - The choir within the chancel sit, the organ swell expands, - The clergyman who baptized both will link the lovers' hands. - - Why cometh not the maiden in her crown of orange flowers? - Why linger Earl and bridegroom gay amid their haughty towers?-- - Bring hither cypress garnishing! nor bay nor orange bloom; - For music and for marriage-feast are silence and the tomb. - - With song and voice of cheering the barque doth hoist her sails, - But who shall tell if into port she'll glide with favouring gales; - The golden chalice of the years with joy may overflow; - Drink whilst ye will the sweetened draught, the end ye may not know. - - Upon his couch at morning tide the noble bridegroom lies; - - Nor wedding peal will break his rest, nor dawn will ope his eyes; - The violets shall bloom and fade, the river sing its rhyme, - That ear attuned to echoes sweet, is closed to notes of time. - - Still robed in richest evening dress, within her tiring-room - The Lady Ida sitteth, but her soul hath passed to doom; - One line to solve the mystery; one only line, which read: - "She wiled from me the living! she cannot part the dead!" - - * * * * * - - Oh! saddest note in saddening song! - The fair, unwedded bride - With reason fled, might oft be seen - Near by the river side. - - Now plaiting wreaths of sweet, wild flowers - To rhythms light and gay; - Now listening for the manly step - She hailed in former day. - - Till the Father, in His mercy, - Sent an angel from above - To tend her guileless spirit up - Into the haven of love. - - Earl Crawfurd, crushed with shame and woe - Bent low his stately head; - And, ere the forest leaves were strewn, - He slumbered with his dead. - - His mansion, with ancestral lands, - Rich farms and pastures fair; - A vast and goodly heritage, - Passed to a distant heir. - - So now, in its kingly grandeur - Of terrace, arch and tower, - Stands Crawfurd Castle, mute and lone - As hermit in his bower. - -[Illustration] - - - - -SONGS OF SCOTIA. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE SCOTCH GATHERING. - - - Hurrah for Scotland's ancient flag! - Now floating on the breeze; - Its every wave in vision paints - A clime beyond the seas. - - And, as that music fills the air - Which breathes of mountain-steep, - Our spirits wander back again - To where our fathers sleep. - - Again we hear the dashing foam - Which plunges down the dell; - Or ramble o'er the broomy knowes, - Or cull the sweet bluebell. - - Or sit in restful gloaming-tide, - 'Neath honeysuckle porch, - And watch the tewhits winging low - Beyond the old, grey church, - - As balmy breath of briar and thyme - Comes wafted o'er the moor, - And sheds the gold, laburnum fringe - Upon its grassy floor. - - Or linger by the martyrs' grave; - Or tread the hallowed sod - Where Hope and Valour stoutly fought - For country and for God. - - The Cora Lynn yet sings the dirge - And deeds of Wallace wight; - Whilst Bannockburn still echoes forth - Who bravely died for right. - - Oh! beauteous, tender mountain land! - Where'er thy children roam, - Along their lives the heartstrings thrill - To tune of "Home! sweet Home!" - - Thy halls of learning grace the earth, - And dignify the name - Which side by side hath ever stood - With honor, truth and fame. - - Thy sons, who now with strong, right arm - The stone and hammer wield, - Type well the sires who glory gained, - Or perished on the field. - - Now, three cheers for our Highland Chief! - Three more for the Macneill![Note] - Three for all those who fondly prize - The land we love _sae weel_! - - And three cheers for our noble Queen! - Who from the Bruce descends; - Whose life, attuned to sympathy, - A nation's love defends. - - - - -SKYE. - - - Hail to the clime of the mist and the mountain! - Of cataract foaming in boisterous glee; - Hail to Cuchullin! proud-peering through cloudland, - In red, rocky grandeur, from sea unto sea. - Fair isle of the patriot, the sage and the songster! - Thou shrine of the deeds of the noble and brave! - Who lived for their kinsmen, who died for their country; - Whose ashes repose in a far, foreign grave. - - Of spirit undaunted, of intellect bright - As the glistening lakes in thy bosom which lie; - The archives of learning, the annals of might - Shall lustre for ever the heroes of Skye.[Note] - Injustice may scathe thee, deep gloom thee surround, - Thy night shall yet vanish, bright dawn to restore; - When peace and fair plenty once more shall abound, - From Macleod's sea-girt castle to Armadale's shore. - - - - -"BONNIE DUNDEE." - - - Whene'er I hear the well-kent tune - My heart gangs ower the sea - And communes with the loved o' yore - In the dear auld countrie. - - Ance mair I run, wi' lichtsome step - And spirits fu' o' glee - - Ane o' a joyous, childish group - To school, in fair Dundee. - - Ah! many a year has come and gane - Yet, time's long bridge atween - I overstep, and live the past - As if it happed yestreen. - - Though mony a hand is cauld in death, - And mony a grave grows green - O' those that made the Yule-tide bricht - And hanselled Hallowe'en. - - But, sometimes from the music creeps - A sicht that blurs the sang;-- - 'Twould discord sweetest tones e'er sung, - And put the minstrel wrang. - - It is the picture o' a hame - O' Scotland's peasantry; - In front stands Graeme of Claverhouse - The _braw_ Viscount Dundee. - - The troopers rein their panting steeds - Their General's will to bide; - As, clinging to their mother's gown - The frightened bairnies hide. - - I hear the haughty "Where is he?" - But--Oh, she answers well! - Her faithful heart love fortified, - "That same I will na tell." - - Dark grew his scowl; as fierce wild beast - Defrauded of its prey, - With thirst of blood insatiate, - He gave his passions play. - - "Then, woman, thou shalt surely die - Who darest me to my face!" - The husband heard these words of doom - And left his hiding place. - - Alack, the courtly cavalier! - _The bonnie, braw_[Note] Dundee! - What odium of saintly blood - Must ever cling to thee. - - He stood his human target up, - He gave the order "Fire!" - Yet, every gun was mute, for ance - His veterans braved his ire. - - He raised aloft a coward hand - And shot his victim down;-- - But lang in Scotia's heart will live - The memory o' John Brown. - - The widowed knelt upon the sward, - Her apron she unbound; - And tenderly, her loved dead - In reddening shroud she wound; - - "What think ye o' your husband now?" - The murderer demands - Of the humble woman, in her woe - Clasped firm by bairnies' hands. - - She raised the head upon her lap, - She kissed the yet warm brow; - "_I aye thocht muckle o'm_," she said - "_But mair than ever now_." - - Oh, woe for Scotland when her king - Stept 'twixt her and her God! - And baptized in her martyrs' gore - Each cave and moorland sod. - - And woe to every servile hand - O' persecution's slaves! - Who load their weakling souls wi' guilt - At beck o' deeper knaves. - - Beyond a' creeds and rites o' rule; - True faith shall never fail; - As lighthouse built on solid rock - 'Twill weather every gale. - - And though, unto the powers that be - A loyal lay she'll sing, - Auld Scotland's soul will bend to nane - Save Heaven's own glorious King. - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE HEATHERBELL. - - - Old England wreathes her gorgeous rose - With minstrelsy sublime; - The flower to Highland hearts most dear, - I fain would praise in rhyme. - - It bloometh not in palace grounds, - But on the rough hillside; - It boasteth no patrician birth, - It is a people's pride. - - Where streamlet leaves its rocky bed - To warble o'er the plain; - Where cataract leaps forth in foam, - On to the seething main. - - Down-trampled on the serried field - Where love from love was riven; - Where patriot soul was offered up - As incense unto Heaven. - - Where young hearts meet at eventide, - The old, old tale to tell; - In shady nooks, by purling brooks, - There blooms the sweet harebell. - - Where cadence of the martyrs' hymn - Bright seraphim revoiced, - As e'en from moorland, fen and cave - Old Scotia's saints rejoiced. - - Where ruin mocks those hoary towers - In which mailed knight held sway; - - Beside the peaceful cottage door, - Type of this better day. - - Bright silvery lochs! dark frowning crags! - Which Scotia's history tell; - Ye impress on my heart of hearts - The land I love so well. - - And, through the golden glory-glist - O'er mount, and rock and fell, - There smileth up to Memory's eyes - The dear, Scotch Heatherbell. - - - - -BONNIER. - - - Oh! bonnie is the tender licht - Within the lovers' een; - But, bonnier a soul that's bricht, - A conscience ever clean. - And braw the form o' manly youth, - Wi' bearing firm and free; - Yet, grander far the lip o' truth, - And heart o' constancy. - - Oh! radiant gleam the marble halls - And mausoleums o' pride; - But kindlier the love-licht falls - Around mine ain fireside. - And blithe the merry mavis' sang - Ower copse, an' clover lea; - Yet, cheerier tones I'll lilt ere lang, - Through a' eternity. - - - - -THE DOCTORS FEE. - - - It was a dazzling equipage - That drove up to the door; - It was a note with lordly crest - The liveried footman bore. - A note for Doctor Harrington - From Lady Cecil Grey; - It told of sickness at the Hall - And begged for no delay. - - The young physician pondered - If luck his path had found; - Meanwhile the highly-mettled steeds - Impatient paw the ground. - "'Tis passing strange her ladyship - Though odd, should summon me;"-- - High hung the omen of success, - Bright gleamed the golden fee. - - Two miles along the country road, - Two miles of avenue - And, 'yond the lily-bordered lake, - Fair turrets rise to view. - Oh! common ills of base-born life - How could ye venture near? - Why should your breath, Oh foul disease! - Pollute such atmosphere? - - Deep sadness broodeth o'er the Hall, - Scent-laden breezes sigh, - Though linnets pipe their tuneful song, - And cushat-doves reply. - - The menials walk with noiseless tread - Across the French-tiled floor; - And, on its glittering hinges - Swings back the oaken door. - - "Oh doctor!" quoth the Lady Grey - With outstretched jeweled hand, - "I am in depths of sore distress - But--you will understand. - It comforts me, that to my wish - The answer came so quick; - See!" and she drew the screen aside;-- - "_My favorite cat is sick._" - - Well was it that the patient lay - Within a darkened room; - The sunlight on the doctor's face - Had sunk in sudden gloom. - 'Twas but a moment; skilled, acute - And witty too, withal, - With sober and respectful mien - He kept his thoughts in thrall. - - What were those thoughts? upon that couch - By rarest art compiled, - Lay soulless brute, while o'er the wilds - Strayed many a starving child. - But wealth oft nurseth foibles - To fill its empty day; - And workers cater for its will - Who hope for handsome pay. - - With solemn guise he lent his ear - For quite a lengthened space; - - Then, with a grave obsequiousness, - He diagnosed the case. - "His stomach is, for sure, deranged; - No appetite hath he; - Yet time and care effect a change, - Wilt thou trust him with me?" - - A maiden, on a cushion soft, - The precious tabby bore - To the escutcheoned carriage which - Soon halted as before. - And the doctor raised his patient - And stroked his shiny pate, - Then--in the pantry, 'neath a tub, - Consigned him to his fate. - - Withhold thy censure! rude this course - Yet savoring keen insight; - Four days of prison treatment brought - Luxurious Tabby right. - Mote all the victims of excess - Be held in durance vile - A wholesome world would bloom apace, - And peace and plenty smile. - - The proverb reads "'Tis an ill wind - That bloweth no one good" - And in the sequel of this tale - Be that fact understood. - For the fancies of a weakling - And over-pampered mind - Were ladders by which highest aim - Could fairer prospect find. - - Back came dear Tabby to the Hall - With appetite restored; - Glad to devour the meanest crumb - He hitherto ignored, - To Lady Cecil's wonderment. - With generous courtesy - She poured from out her silken purse - The shining golden fee, - - She placed it in the doctor's hand. - "Five hundred pounds a year - As my physician you may claim;"-- - She praised him far and near. - He gained the best of patronage - Through all the country side; - He wooed a baron's daughter fair, - And won her for his bride. - - No more chagrin, nor vexed delays; - No plodding up the hill; - Life's current flowed as peaceful stream - Which works the well-set mill. - The noble Countess and her cat - Have long since passed away; - But the witty doctor lives and thrives - In green old age this day. - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE VISION. - - - I dreamt that I culled the wild flowers on the moorland, - And roamed o'er the hills which my forefathers trod, - Ere their life-blood empurpled the fields of Hispania; - Ere their souls soared on high to the patriot's God. - I saw, to the call of the pibroch, advancing - O'er mountain, o'er river, o'er blossoming plain, - The strength of strong manhood, the youthful in daring; - The thousands who went, but who came not again. - - The many moons passed as a breath, in bright dreamland, - I looked from lone valley to sea-beaten shore; - Two frigates,[Note] full-manned with a nation's defenders, - Britannia's proud ensign defiantly bore. - Then up from the shadows came voices long silenced; - "Oh Britain! thou boast of the free and the brave; - We fought, and we died for thy honor, thy freedom, - Thou yieldest our offspring no boon but the grave." - - Dark visions rolled off with the mists of the morning; - High o'er the green larches white smoke-wreaths had curled; - And the tender sun beaming from out the clear ether, - Was the hopefuller sun of an opening world. - And over wide ocean a warbler came winging, - Who sang, as he dropped a heathbell by our door, - "The shadows are flitting, the day-dawn is breaking, - The long night of sorrow will darken no more." - - - - -LOCH KATRINE. - - - Loch Katrine's bonnie banks an' braes, - Though lang I've left them a', laddie, - 'Thochts o' them, an' ither days - Maist break my heart in twa, laddie. - Fu' thretty years o' storm an' shine - Sin' first we crossed the ocean's brine, - Yet closely roond oor hearts entwine - The mem'ries o' lang syne, laddie. - - Oh! mind ye o' the leafy bowers - Within the sylvan shade, laddie, - Where aft we pu'd the wild-wood flowers, - As warblers stirred the glade, laddie? - Wi' step sae buoyant, firm an' free - I hurried tae the trystin' tree;-- - Sae sacred then tae Love an' thee; - To love, an' thee, an' me, laddie. - - In school, at sport, in whirlin' dance, - Thy rival was nae seen, laddie, - Nae ither suitor won a glance - Frae me, the village queen, laddie. - Then ebon was my glossy hair, - Thy crown o' curls was gowden fair; - Now time--wha rich nor puir will spare-- - Has bleached oor locks to sna, laddie. - - Nae mair upon auld Scotia's shore - Wi' willing feet we'll stray, laddie, - Nor greet the freens we loved o' yore, - The yore sae far away, laddie. - - Nae mair we'll see the sunbeams rest - Upon Ben Ledi's haughty crest, - As, reddening a' the distant west, - Sol sinks aneath the wave, laddie. - - Nae mair we'll watch the rushin' tide - Sweep ower the yellow sands, laddie, - But far ayont the ither side - We'll clasp the lang missed hands, laddie. - Yes! far ayont the mist an' rain, - An' days of toil, an' nichts o' pain, - Wide scattered flocks will meet again - Nae mair to part for aye, laddie. - - As frost dispels 'fore kindly thaw - When Spring's saft breezes blow, laddie, - So gently may we slip awa' - To joys nae mortals know, laddie. - For as the sun clears aff the dew, - Our withered lives will bloom anew, - When this fause world shall fade frae view - In fairer worlds abune, laddie. - -[Illustration] - - - - -CONTENT. - - - In splendour of an Eastern night, - Where Luna softly smiles, - I've sailed along the shimmering tide - Which laves the Classic Isles. - Or led the dance in courtly hall, - 'Mid gayest of the throng; - Or listed to rare _artistes_ pour - Their witchery of song. - And 'yond the murky Tiber's wave - Have strolled 'neath Pincian shade; - As sunlight streamed o'er Saxon fair, - Or dark-eyed Roman maid. - - In dreamland oft our Highland hills - Forth from the shadows spring, - All radiant in their purple bloom; - Meet haunts of forest king. - And up the green-arched avenue, - And o'er the daisied lawn - Troop faces bright, and hearts as light - As step of mountain fawn. - And artless voices drown in mirth - The sighing of the breeze;-- - But memory opes, the vision fades; - Wail not _their_ fate; Oh Seas! - - Though former scenes in Time's rough blast - Have drifted far away; - And halls wherein our fathers ruled - Lie mouldering in decay, - Though ne'er again, o'er heathery wild, - I'll see the storm-clouds fly; - Or watch the golden glory creep - O'er lake, and mount and sky. - Though never more, from castle tower - I'll scan the pebbly shore; - Or hark the loved brother's lays - Chime with the plashing oar. - - Yet, where no floweret ever fades, - Nor weeping wakes the morn; - Where every heart, with sorrow fraught, - To joy shall be re-born. - Within the great orchestral band - Glad anthems we'll prolong; - Nor sickness shall discord our praise, - Nor death disturb our song. - Nor ocean wide shall e'er divide, - Nor years nor space will sever; - In realm of health's immortal bloom - We'll live in love for ever. - - What though my hope-fraught argosy - Ne'er reached a halcyon strand; - Though winds and waves have rudely tossed; - I know the Pilot's hand - - Will steer me safe 'yond shifting-sands, - Dense fogs and chilling rime, - To anchorage within that haven, - Beyond the ridge of time. - Where crowns of pearl, and harps of gold - In holy radiance beam; - Where halos from the great White Throne - Dispel earth's fitful dream. - -[Illustration] - - - - -MISCELLANEOUS. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -COLUMBUS. - - - Down in the darkness till earth-crust doth part, - Is the gold of the unwrought mine; - Deep in recess of the lowliest heart - Rare diamonds of genius may shine. - And as from its earth-bed pure gold is revealed, - To work out the projects of man, - So promptings of genius, unraveled, unsealed, - Are but links in eternity's plan. - - Onward, aye on o'er the fathomless brine, - From the far Castilian land; - 'Neath an ardent sun, 'neath a pale moonshine, - With prow to the halcyon strand. - On from the jeers of a skeptical crowd - To the goal of his long life dream; - On, on from the taunts of the wisdom-proud - To the summit of vast brain scheme. - - On with the aid of a womanly wit, - Which served the high-set purpose well; - For the squadron's glittering sails were lit - Through fair Hispania's Isabel. - Who had stooped her head, with its regal crown, - And soothed with pity's shapely hand, - As to grim Suspicion's withering frown - She raised the sceptre of the land. - - Onward, aye on, though the night shadows lower, - Though star lamps burn low in the sky, - Onward through hurricane, cloud-rift and shower; - Still onward, whate'er may defy. - Calming, controlling a mutinous crew, - The victims of loneness and fear; - Deftly explaining phenomena new - With voicings of courage and cheer. - - Shifting of compass, strange lights in the sky, - Strange birds on a wandering wing; - "On, Oh my comrades! the guerdon is nigh; - Fresh life to my pulses doth spring. - Trust me, my comrades! nor wild water-wraith, - Nor phantom his passage e'er bars - Whose rudder is set with a firm-bound faith - In that Power who created the stars." - - On through the drift-weed; Lo! tranquil blue seas; - With breath of a balmier air; - On, hoisting their sails to the landward breeze, - On, ridding their spirits of care. - Light through the darkness! bright beacons ahead! - And the mariner's sails are furled, - For the errand of genius hath aptly sped, - On the rim of a great New World. - - In raiment of splendor the ground he hath trod; - He looks from the sky to the main; - He planteth the Cross in the name of his God, - His standard in token of Spain. - And on through the cycles, in Temple of Fame, - Though nations and systems decay, - - The laurels which lustre Columbus' proud name - In freshness shall blossom for aye. - - - - -TIME AND ETERNITY. - - - Time! Ocean of boundless unrest! - Upheaving with tumult of life; - While, as foam on the billowy crest, - Floats he who is first in the strife. - First in the van of courage and right, - Or foremost in daring to wrong; - Time bendeth low to the monarch of might, - Embalms him in story and song. - - Yet lives there be which the giddy hours - Tinge lightly, as onward they wing; - Rough winds may scatter Hope's fairest flowers, - The dreamer awaketh to sing. - And sweet seraph tones, borne from on high, - Enliven the faltering strain; - Till a golden rift streaks the dark sky, - And sunlight illumines again. - - Eternity! prospect sublime! - Blessed Faith holdeth forth unto view, - Where the fleeting illusions of time - Yield place to the lasting and true, - Where the song never dies in a wail, - Nor sun ever sinks into gloom; - Nor bright life in its splendor doth fail - 'Fore darkness of death and the tomb. - - When the glare and the glitter shall wane - In glow of the chrysolite sea, - For leal hearts that now struggle in vain - Shall the crown of the victor be. - And sorrow-dimmed lives shall relight - With warmth from an heavenly ray; - And flowerets nipped by an early blight - Shall re-bloom through an endless day. - - - - -THE TREE. - -WRITTEN FOR ARBOR DAY. - - - Thou! noblest of all nature's growth! - Where'er thy foliage falls, - Thy beauty, wed to matchless worth - The willing heart enthralls. - - Erst-while the Jewish exiles hung - Their harps thy boughs along - And poured their wearied spirits forth - In strains of plaintive song. - - So yet, 'neath shimmer of thy leaves - Roll back the waves of time, - And exiled souls, in dreams return - To far, serener clime. - - Before the German peasant's eyes - Thuringian forests bloom; - Whilst ilex of the sunny South - Lights up Italia's gloom. - - The English hail their country's oak, - Through which great victories came; - Since naval power, in danger's hour - Sustained old England's fame. - - The ebon cross of Erin's Isle - Bedecks her loyal daughters, - In every land, on every strand - Laved by the glittering waters. - - Ah! sweetly 'mong the rowan-trees - Ayond the seething brine, - The Scotsman hears loved melodies, - From voices o' langsyne. - - A landmark thou in vale of years! - White stone in history! - Loud publisher of private wrongs, - Or nation's victory. - - 'Neath aged oak of Elderslie - Five centuries tell the tale - How, at the name of Scotland's Chief - Her enemies turned pale. - - An English yew-tree speaks her fate - Who, by a despot's breath - In brilliant beauty graced a throne, - Then sank in shameful death. - - Trees note the spot where Bonaparte - Surrendered at Sedan - Ambition's sceptre, framed of guilt - In blood of brother man. - - Whilst ever, through the cycling years, - Judea's olive tree - Proclaims the sin-fought conflict gained - On dark Gethsemane. - - By soul, that in the greening leaf, - The Great Designer sees, - Sweet whispers from the Living Life - Are heard among the trees. - - And every changing summer hue - Which decks the forest band - Low bends in homage grateful hearts - To Him whose faultless hand - - Doth sap the seed, and sun the stem, - And rear the structure high; - Till emerald censers incense waft - Through fair, cerulean sky. - - Whose artist-touch illumes the doole - Of woodland's waning green, - With flashing streaks of red and gold, - Sunlit of glorious sheen. - - So Faith may gaze, with restful eye, - Across this desert wold; - To find the darksome shades of earth - Relieved by Heaven's bright gold. - - So Hope may realize that day, - Beside the crystal river, - Where, sheltered by the Tree of Life, - Pure joys flow on forever. - - - - -THE SHIPWRECK. - - - Thou! glorious, pure, unwavering Light! - Let not our light be vain! - Grant us to see, through densest night, - Earth's direst problems plain! - - A ship held fast on a treacherous reef - Lies quivering to and fro; - The wild winds mocking man's relief; - Upheaving ocean's flow. - - Bright crimson floods the burnished west, - Red glows the village spire; - And the darkening speck, on seething crest, - Low sinks in molten fire. - - Ah me! amid the tangled heap - Cast forth ere morning chime, - The veteran in his unrocked sleep; - Fair youth, and manhood's prime. - - What treasure lieth, tightly bound - Within that sodden vest? - Which rude sea-wave hath not unwound - From off the quiet breast. - - "Is't gold or pearls? grim sailor, speak! - What doth that case conceal?" - But the tear adown the bronzed cheek - All silently doth steal. - - They pass it round with reverend grace;-- - Only a picture fair; - A woman's, and a baby's face, - And two damp locks of hair. - - 'Neath peaceful shades they calmly sleep - Who fought the angry wave; - Nor maid, nor mother e'er shall weep - Beside her sailor's grave. - - For the golden locks will dull to dark, - The brown will turn to grey; - But the brave who sailed in that gallant bark - Have bade "Farewell" for aye. - - - - -DE PROFUNDIS. - - - I looked abroad; gloom, only gloom; - Weird, solemn, chill and densely drear; - Black curtain over nature's bier; - Silence oppressive as of doom. - - "Oh soul!" I said, "though morn be bright, - Though gorgeous vistas charm life's day, - Descends on every earth-trod way - Cold mortal chill, bereavement's night." - - Once more I looked; transcendent shine! - The myriad gates of light unbarred; - The glowing heavens serenely starred; - Dull earth transformed to scene divine. - - Then said I, "Soul! would the mercy beams - Shed ever such radiant light, - Had'st thou not known dark sorrow's night - Or groped within this world of dreams?" - - - - -THE ECLIPSE OF THE MOON. - -NOVEMBER 15TH, 1891. - - - In her calm, tender, beauty arising - She smiled as she journeyed on high; - Till the shadows fled far o'er the pineland, - Till ocean smiled back to the sky. - And our souls, in those genial rays basking, - Which glorified river and shore, - Soared high from the loved of the life that is, - To the loved of the life evermore. - - But lo! o'er the brightness, and beauty and grace - Creeps slowly a dismal, black screen; - Now veiled from our eyes is the centre of light, - Earth's shadows have fallen between. - A moment obscure, then a clear shining rim, - As gleam of the covenant bow; - The veil is withdrawn from fair Luna's bright face, - And the heavens are again in a glow. - - Thus basketh the soul in that holier light - Which beameth from Centre Divine; - Thus veiled is the radiance uplifting the life - When we kneel at a worldly shrine. - - Yet steadfast and clear is that earth-clouded Light - The penitent, looking on high, - Will view the dark curtain to density glide, - And mercy re-lighten the sky. - - - - -ERIN'S ADDRESS TO FREEDOM. - -VS. LANDLORDISM. - - - Thou Freedom! which in years agone - Sat gloriously upon our hills; - Through all these verdant valleys shone, - And sang in all those mountain rills. - - Oh Thou! for whom my children fought; - Their blood upon thine altar stands; - The sacrifice! was it for nought? - Is it for nought _these_ clasp their hands? - - Their wills were iron--not their lungs;-- - They shrank not from the fiercest fight; - Their deeds, more than ten thousand tongues, - Plead loudly for their offsprings' right. - - Oh! what to us that golden age - When Athens reigned, or ancient Rome; - We need not grope through history's page - To greet the scourge we find at home. - - My leal ones crave no wizard wand - With topaz gleams their path to pave; - But justice, freedom, fatherland, - A hopeful life, and peaceful grave. - - Obedient ever to those laws - Which jar not with that Higher Will; - Thou! Leader in their righteous cause, - With beacon rays their spirits fill. - - Thou mayst not see--for Falsehood veils, - And Truth retires when tyrants reign-- - Those scenes 'fore which all nature pales, - Nor list the cry of hunger-pain. - - Yet thee we hear in every breeze - That round the lonely hamlet raves; - Thy mountains echo to thy seas-- - "Ye sons of freemen be not slaves." - - Before Despair's dim, hollow eye, - Starvation's wan and wasted cheek, - Can soul of man stand idly by? - God of their fathers, aid the weak! - - Through centuries of direst gloom - The Afric prayed thy dawn to see; - At length there tolled Oppression's doom - Out-rung with notes of jubilee. - - Too long, in Sorrow's dusky shroud - Thy glorious mien is hid from view; - Now Courage wakes, and calls aloud, - Come forth! thou birthright of the true! - - And Thou shalt come! for plaintive song - In minor tone, on bended knee, - Shall rise the power to conquer wrong;-- - And Erin's Ireland shall be free. - - - - -THE GIFT. - - - A basket of beautiful roses! - Snowflakes in a setting of green; - Pure as the pearl that reposes - On breast of the daintiest queen. - Not one, but a wealth of sweet roses! - In vases, on table and chair, - Small hands, in haste have deposed them;-- - Sweet incense in soft summer air. - - * * * * * - - Long faded, Oh friend! are the roses; - Long faded, and fallen away; - But the fragrance such bounty discloses - Doth perfume the wintriest day. - Fragrant as breath of thy roses - Thy life-deeds are wafted above;-- - Short season of struggle and triumph! - Bright crown of ne'er withering love. - - - - -EVER FAITHFUL. - - - Since thy dear love my life hath blessed, - Since thy true heart is heart of mine, - Naught fearing, I shall bide the rest; - Though sunlight dim to taper-shine. - - Though Time's impress hath marked thy brow, - And silver-streaked thy sunny hair; - - As autumn winds, before the snow - Of winter, blight the foliage fair, - - Yet shall I love thee till the beam - Of lingering soul-light homeward hies; - Then, where sweet zephyrs fan the stream, - Where day's bright glory never dies, - - Sunned of those ever hallowing rays; - As endless cycles onward move, - With glad triumph we'll join to praise - The Centre of unfathomed love. - - - - -"ONLY OUR HIRED BOY." - - -I. - - God-beams of mercy, gleam through the dull haze; - Sunlight and soften the dark rocky ways! - - Harmony pealeth o'er mountain and plain; - Alien sin-nature chimes not in refrain. - - That holier season was nigh at hand - When the sympathies of the soul expand. - - From the warmth and light of the fireside glow - I walked abroad o'er the glistening snow. - - When a black cloud over my pathway set; - It loometh before my memory yet. - - No hearse, no mourners, no tolling of bells - The one sure fate of humanity tells. - - A rough-fashioned sleigh with its motley load, - Glideth quickly over the churchyard road. - - The rude pine coffin is set on a stone; - Hastily earth from its earth-bed is thrown. - - Lowered the dead; heavy shovels ply fast; - A few brief moments--the vision hath passed. - - Nought of lamenting; no vestige of woe; - Just a dark heap, a foul blot on the snow. - - Entering the gateway, I reasoned why? - Questioned the scene with a tear-bedimmed eye. - - "Only our hired boy!" He carelessly turned; - My innermost soul in my bosom burned. - - -II. - - "Only your hired boy! yet nurtured in wealth, - Gifted of beauty, and glowing with health. - - "Sunned in the rays of an era sublime, - Lulled in the lap of a Christian clime. - - "Suddenly fatherless, suddenly poor; - Brave mother-hands keeping want from the door. - - "Oh! how the widowed heart clung to that child, - Her one bright star on the darkening wild. - - "Welded in sorrow, bereavement and pain; - Time nor eternity severeth twain. - - "Hard for new toilers, though strong be the will; - Weary the way up the steep, rugged hill. - - "Friendship in fortune is hollow at best; - Sunset of splendor, illuming the west, - - "Sinketh unseen 'fore the blackness of night,-- - Her spirit reached forth to the land of light; - - "She folded her boy to her aching heart, - And you--you promised to do your part. - - "With a calm, sweet smile on her lips she died, - And you drew the child from his mother's side. - - "Oh! well for him had he sunk to his rest, - Pillowed in peace on that motionless breast. - - "Far better his fate had his young eyes closed, - Mantled in shroud where his mother reposed. - - -III. - - "You took him home. Ah what record of shame! - To the falsity of a home in name. - - "Oh stony heart! hard as his frozen bed; - Cold as the snow-drifts which sweep o'er his head. - - "Your baby secure, in infancy blessed; - Warm-cradled as bird in the parent nest. - - "Your elder boys safe as lambs in the fold; - That mother's loved one left out in the cold. - - "Chilled by the coldest of winter's cold days; - Fevered by heat of the sun's hottest rays. - - "Lodged in an outhouse, exposed to the sky; - Beasts underneath in a shelter all dry. - - "Rest for the horses, but work for the slave;-- - Tyrant! thy betters were death and the grave. - - "Sick--yes! he told you with faltering breath; - Lazy you termed it, you beat him in death. - - "Bridge you the river he crossed to atone? - Drown you with orgies the orphan's sad moan? - - "Nay! for those wailings will ring in your ear; - Haunt your night visions, and follow your bier. - - "Whilst that mighty Power which hath mother-love given - Will surely unite what asunder is riven. - - "And fill with choice music the one silent tone, - By yielding to mother-love all of its own." - - -IV. - - Ponder life's teachings; con each of them well; - Man, made in God's image, should earth be a hell? - - Where were the justice if earth were our all! - Where, if life's limits were girt of the pall! - - God of the fatherless! heard'st Thou that cry! - Wail of the orphan-soul piercing the sky. - - Yes! Thou didst hear it; that bitter cold night - When the ground was crisp with its coat of white. - - Thou sentest Thy angels to bear him away - From his storm-beaten garb of fragile clay. - - Tired-out, aching limbs! weary frozen feet! - Ceaseless, toilsome toil! rest--Ah sweet! how sweet! - - No mourner knelt down by that lowly bed; - No kindly hand pillowed that dying head. - - Nought, save the starlights of loftier space - Beamed tenderly over that still, pale face. - - What matter! the billows may rage and foam, - The heaven-bound soul will reach its home. - - What matter! the sorrows of earth are o'er; - He hath landed safe on love's native shore. - - Where glory-lit mansions resound with joy; - For the mother who lost, hath found her boy. - - And glad Hallelujahs bright seraphim sing; - For the once hired boy is a crowned king. - -[Illustration] - - - - -LAURELS. - - - Wreaths for the warrior brave! - He conquered in the fight, - Bright day chased sable night, - Wave banners! proudly wave! - - Laurels for statesman bold! - Men wake from callous sleep, - As tones, in pathos deep, - A people's wrongs unfold. - - Sweet flowers with poesy chime;-- - Gay-deck those poet lays - Which incense care-worn ways, - Raise souls to heights sublime. - - Rare flowers of spotless hue - For heralds of the cross, - Who fear nor shame nor loss, - But type the Christ-life true. - - Richest of nature's gems - Within His courts we bring; - Ours, and all nature's King; - King of heaven's diadems. - - Chaplets for brow of toil! - Rough hands, but heart all rich, - Who fitly fills his niche - On God's life-giving soil. - - Flowers for the suffering throng! - Oh meek! long-during band! - - High in the painless land - Sad plaint will rise to song. - - White-wreathe we infant tombs! - Where breathes no chilling blast, - Where skies ne'er over cast, - Hope's full fruition blooms. - - Be-crown the aged heads - With sprays of evergreen! - Earth waneth, heaven serene - Undying lustre sheds. - - Bright-fringe, Oh fragrant flowers! - Life's ever-changeful day; - Till shadow's flit for aye, - In amaranthine bowers. - - - - -ST. PATRICK'S DAY. - - - The standard of Erin! unfurl it on high! - To greet the bright day which her children hold dear; - Gay joy-bells of gladness ring out to the sky! - Ring out for the Patron, the Saint, and the Seer. - - Whose blessed advent woke from the dole of the grave - The nation long shrouded in paganish gloom; - As with tidings of Him who suffered to save, - He pointed to life beyond death and the tomb. - - This day the exile retraceth wide ocean, - To rest for a space in his far native land; - - Whilst minstrel-soul, tuned to deepest devotion, - Doth chime in the music which beats on that strand. - - Though tuneless the harp that rich melody poured - On the whispering zephyrs which fan thy clear streams, - And voiceless the halls where thy orators soared, - In fancy full flushed with ne'er realized dreams. - - Though silence reigns drear o'er Killarney's sweet lakes, - And dark cloudlets brood over loved Arranmore; - Though wave of Loch Neagh in murmuring breaks - And dashes in foam on a desolate shore, - - Yet, Erin! thy glory, long prisoned in night, - Will rise to shine forth in effulgence again; - And Hope's rich fruition will bask in the light - Of splendor illuming each mountain and plain. - - Thy shamrock may droop by thy clear sparkling fountains, - It bloometh anew o'er this far western wave; - The spirit which rose[Note] 'mid the wild Kerry mountains - Yet lives in the soul of thy loyal and brave. - - Not by untoward plots, or feats of the sword, - Shall thy stainless honor and truth be maintained; - By purpose of right, and with help of the Lord - Shall the fondest wish of thy leal hearts be gained. - - Then mourn not the ages of sorrow and wrong, - But aye keep thy future of blessing in view; - Sad weeping shall merge into triumph's glad song;-- - To God, to thy sires, and to Erin prove true. - - - - -TO THE POET. - - -I. - - Ho, poet of the soul refined! - The muse within that soul enshrined, - Think'st thou to mould unto thy mind - Base, common clay? - - Within the church--most holy place-- - Endowed of Heaven's especial grace, - The weeds of evil grow apace, - Why not without? - - -II. - - And yet--tis passing sad that rhyme, - Most fitting garb for theme sublime, - Should trumpet, in high sounding chime, - The thoughts of wrong. - - With eagle flights all may not soar, - Nor bask in fields of richest lore, - Yet, poesy a balm should pour - O'er worldly woes. - - -III. - - Earth's glamour fails, it cannot mar - The calm, pure radiance of the star; - Discordant music floats afar - From real song. - - Essence divine! leal hearts will sing - Though baser souls mean offerings bring; - True anthems o'er the false shall ring - Eternally. - - - - -TO THE OCEAN. - - - Mirror of might and of splendor! - Type of immensity! - Smiling in face of the upper blue; - Beautiful! crystal Sea! - Yet, under thy brilliant beaming, - As chills at the heart of love - When a smile o'er-gilds the placid face, - Cold under-currents move. - - Over thy glistering waters, - Out of the purple haze, - Thrilleth the chords of memory - With touch of other days. - Once more, by thy rim, bright Ocean! - A youthful, happy band - We course along the yellow sands - Afar, in fair Scotland. - - Once more we plash our childish feet - Amid thy shining waves; - Or shelter from the sudden gust - Within thy border caves. - Ho! voices of the summer sea! - Ho! voices sweet and low! - - Ye mournful chant their requiem, - Those days of long ago. - - He sailed upon thy whitened crest, - The choicest of our band; - Thy seething surges wail his dirge - On far New Holland strand. - That other sleeps--we know not where, - Who early braved thy tide;-- - Sing wavelets! we shall meet at length - Upon that further side. - - Yes, mighty Ocean! all thy storms - Shall lull to perfect peace; - And all thy weary monotones, - With rhythms sad shall cease. - So now, we stand upon thy brink; - Whilst 'yond thy sparkling foam, - We hear sweet voices calling us - To our eternal home. - - - - -"I GAVE HIM AN ORANGE." - -FROM DR. CONROY'S EVIDENCE. - - - Beside the lowly couch of pain, - They watched the flickering breath; - They knew that mortal skill was vain - To stem the tide of death. - - For ruthless hands, and heart impure, - Though unprovoked by strife, - - Had aimed the missive all too sure - Which dulled the warm young life. - - When skill had failed, love took its place; - The little gift was given; - One moment's brightness lit the face, - And life from death seemed riven. - - Oh! deep within each mother's soul - This deed of love shall tell; - While He who made the wounded whole, - Such acts He noteth well. - - Yea, Who the reins of right doth hold - 'Yond tortuous frauds of time, - Sees brazen vice, ungilt by gold, - And poverty no crime. - - He shall adjudge in righteousness, - And sickness, woe and dearth, - With mammon fall; and Heaven's own bliss - Outweigh the wrongs of earth. - - - - -ST. ANDREW'S DAY. - -WRITTEN FOR THE CALEDONIAN CLUB. - - - Another year hath passed away! - Once more, a joyous band, - We hail with mirth thy Natal Day, - Saint of the Heather Land. - - For, though we love our Island home, - Our "home upon the wave," - In Fancy's flights those shores we roam - Which Scotia's waters lave. - - True Scottish hearts, in every clime, - This day lift up their voice; - And Memory's joy-bells sweetly chime, - And wearied souls rejoice, - - As gorgeously, to longing eyes, - Comes forth, in glory bright, - Those mountains which the nearing skies - O'er-flood with purple light. - - Again we climb Ben Ledi's steep, - Or skim Loch Lomond's tide; - Or muse where sunbeams softly creep - Through haunts of byegone pride. - - Again we tread the Solway shore, - Or banks of bonnie Dee; - Or watch the Forth's proud waters pour - Into the Northern Sea. - - Or gaze upon that tragic field - Which ancient minstrel sang; - Where warrior died upon his shield - As shouts of battle rang. - - Or hark through Bothwell's ivied towers - Soft winds sonatas play; - Whilst Clutha, sparkling 'yond the bowers - Lights youth's long, golden day. - - Fair land! beyond all other lands - The theme of tale and song; - The present and the past clasp hands - Thy glory to prolong. - - Disgrace be his, and lasting shame - Who heeds not Heaven's just laws; - And, traitor to the Scottish name - Who owns not freedom's cause. - - But hallowed be their memory - Who kept thy honor bright; - Thy great of every century, - Even down to Wallace wight. - - * * * * * - - Now drink we to the heath-clad hills - Beloved of bard and sage; - The silvery lochs, the rippling rills, - The blood-bought heritage! - - And drink we too, with heart of grace, - Victoria the Good! - Our queenly queen of Stuart race, - That reigned in Holyrood. - - All honor to our Highland Chief! - White-wreathed of glory's crown; - Who dignifieth[Note] honors brief - His sun shall ne'er go down. - - And last we honor each and all - Of Celt, or Saxon blood; - Whose acts attest, in hut or hall - God's type of brotherhood. - - - - -GOOD-BYE AND GOOD-NIGHT. - - - Good-bye! it quivers through the years, - Low-breathing of despair; - The sunniest flower of life it sears, - And dulls the summer air. - - It echoes through the falling leaves, - Through ocean's ebb and flow; - In Spring's soft gales, in Autumn sheaves; - Sore parting, bitter woe. - - It speaketh through the vacant chair - To every yearning heart; - Howe'er so noble, gifted, fair, - Earth-born on earth must part. - - Good-night! Oh eyes long used to weep! - Faith spans the mist of years; - High o'er life's toil, death's darksome sleep, - Heaven's fair, sweet dawn appears. - - Refulgent with its glorious rays, - O'er earth, o'er ocean's foam; - Where'er the weary wanderer strays, - To light the spirit home. - - Home to the painless, sinless land, - The never darkening sky; - Where hearts ne'er break with clasp of hand; - Where friends ne'er say Good-bye. - - - - -THE ROSE. - - - She passed as a ray of sunshine - O'er the dark, piazza floor; - And the gloaming turned to noonday - As she neared the open door, - And in her white and dainty hands - A precious gift she bore. - - Thou baby rose! from parent stem - Far traveller from my heart's first shrine; - Sweet breathings of the olden days - Speak from each tiny leaf of thine; - Thou! velvet-clad in robes of state; - Rich-crimsoned of the Hand Divine. - - Sweet art thou as the dreams of youth - Or dew-drops glist 'neath orient ray; - Still, smiling in thy fair, young bloom - Thou'rt frail and perishing as they; - Yet, aftermath of glory-light - Doth rise o'er darkness and decay. - - - - -HOME FROM SCHOOL. - - - Oh! sweet the whispers of the Spring - Which stir the greening leaves; - And sweet the melodies which ring - Through Autumn's golden sheaves. - Oh! sweet the prattle of the rill - As, in its youthful pride, - It danceth down the smiling hill - To join the foaming tide. - - But, sweeter far than nature's chime - Unto a mother's ear; - More tender than the river's rhyme - Those tones she longs to hear. - Those notes unset to music's rule; - Those high-strung notes of joy, - Which herald coming home from school; - The coming of her boy. - - Oh! beauteous are the rainbow hues - Which deck the oriole's wing; - And sparkling bright the pearly dews - Which 'round fair morning cling. - Oh! lovely are the flowers which wreathe - Heaven's hope o'er earth's dark wold; - And grander far than aught beneath, - Those orbs of gleaming gold. - - But, unto mother-love aye true, - More bright than amber sky - That boyish form against the blue, - With ensign cap swung high. - - The beauty of that fair young face - Outshines heaven's clearest star; - Nor ills of time will blur its grace, - Nor fate impress one scar. - - The waning year is nigh its round, - The air is crisp and cool; - Though footsteps linger, love, unbound, - Doth greet my boys from school. - I feel the shadows lengthening, - The twilight slipping fast; - Yet, through the good God strengthening, - Dark night is soon o'erpast. - - Methinks, even in that holier land, - I'll cross the pearly floor, - And by the blessed angel stand - Who guards the hallowed door. - And, while seraphic voices soar, - Amid supremest joys, - From earth's hard school, I'll list once more - To welcome home my boys. - -[Illustration] - - - - -TO - -H. M. S. BLAKE.[Note] - - - Hail to Britannia's noble ship! - Whose pendant, streaming high - Doth shadow forth a nation's might - Athwart our placid sky. - - Thou comest not in pomp of power, - Nor din of battle's roar; - Thy cannon wake no trembling hearts - Upon our peaceful shore. - - Hail to Britannia's sailor sons! - Great sons of greatest fleet! - We tender ye a welcome true - Unto fair Abegweit.[Note] - - Our happy hearths, our blooming fields - We owe to such as you; - For Nelson, Howard, Frobisher - Were of the "boys in blue." - - Long live our noble Admiral! - May his noble deeds afford - That crown which lustres poortith's brow, - And graceth prince or lord. - - May bonds of sympathy unite - Great Neptune's greatest sons - With lowliest tar, within whose veins - The blood of fealty runs. - - And ne'er forget, on whiche'er sea - The tide of time sweeps past, - _Port La Joie_[Note] prays you, 'yond all storm - Safe anchorage at last. - - - - -RETROSPECT. - - - Sir Ronald leaned back in his easy chair; - He gazed abroad on the prospect fair. - - On the soft, white carpet of new-fallen snow; - On the ermined branch with its gems aglow. - - Snow white those locks of the threescore and ten - Yet, smooth is that brow as of younger men. - - He beareth his years with a right good will, - And life floweth on as a placid rill. - - For though evening's sun is well nigh set - His heart holds the dawn of the morning yet. - - From memory's treasures of years gone by - He portrayed scenes for the mental eye, - - Wondrous experience by land and by sea; - Fain would I tell as he told it to me. - - -II. - - "Drifting of smoke wreath, darting of flame; - The fire-fiend is working his way; - And the ghastly glare o'er the gates of dawn, - Streaks far on the opening day. - The stairway has fallen, the rafters yield, - The flooring is creaking o'erhead; - Yet the stout stone wall as a sentry stands, - Though the surges of battle outspread. - - "But lo! from the casement, wide open thrown, - By loving hands carefully bound, - A basket live-freighted is hastily launched - Through flashes of flame to the ground. - Kindled is courage, strong effort revives, - Grim death and destruction are braved;-- - What matter the crash of that falling roof! - Dear life, in its lustre is saved." - - -III. - - "Deep murmurs from out of the frowning skies; - A rising and swelling of seas; - The sailor quick-furleth the outspread sail, - For a hurricane toppeth the breeze. - No shapelier craft from a British port - Ever ventured the heaving tide; - Her firm knit hull, and her rigging taut - Were the mariner's honest pride. - - "But what recketh Ocean for pride of man! - The storm-wraith wails loudly on high; - Till battered and torn is the gallant bark - In her wrestle 'gainst ocean and sky. - Yet she conquers, she rideth the seething foam; - And, as bird from prison bars free, - She spreadeth her sail 'yond the storm-cloud's rim - And skimmeth a tranquil sea." - - -IV. - - "A young mother sat on a vessel's deck, - A flaxen haired babe on her knee; - And her thoughts went back to the mountain land, - And she sighed for her _ain countrie_. - But the light of love, with the hope of youth - In the true woman's heart burns clear; - Oh! what unto her is the loneliest wild - When the arm which she leans on is near! - - "One glance to the stalwart form by her side, - Her spirit returns to its rest; - And gaily she dreameth of happier days - In the new land, the glorious West. - She raiseth the babe; Oh well for her peace! - Where had nestled the darling head, - A fierce, flying ball from the Gascon grazed, - Ere it plunged in its ocean bed." - - -V. - - "Name it not chance; No! in earliest youth - 'Twixt the fire, 'twixt the foe and the flood, - Who feedeth the ravens, Who telleth the stars - In the pathway of danger stood. - And, aye and anon, on the journey up hill, - White milestones have pointed the way - Through the tangled maze, o'er the rocky steep, - To the ridge of an endless day. - - "Now peaceful in shades of the gloaming I rest, - Unawed of the murkier night; - Calm-souled I await for the upward call, - And the glow of the nearing light. - The river's sad moanings I may not hear; - High over the murmuring foam - Floateth rich music. Ah! sweet to mine ear - Those angel tones welcoming home." - - -VI. - - Intently I listened, but scant my reply; - Sorrow and gladness o'er-misted the eye. - - Gladness for light of a long, lustrous day; - Sorrow for sunshine fast fleeting away. - - More dense than the doole of a starless night - The gloom of a soul which knoweth no light. - - Down-coursing as cataract o'er the steep hill - That will which opposeth the Higher Will. - - Unbeauteous is age when it crusts itself round, - Or buries itself in a selfish mound. - - But blessed be those who in soul-growth expand - 'Neath the milder beams from the glory-land. - - Yea blessed they be! when the river is passed, - They shall enter the gate with the palms at last. - - -FINIS. - -[Illustration] - - - - -NOTES. - - - "Skilled Nurses." Page 16.-- - When the epidemic of small-pox visited - Charlottetown in the year 1885, three nuns from the City Hospital - volunteered their professional services. The generous offer was at - first refused, but afterwards gladly accepted. Sister St. Thomas - never recovered from the effects of her labours in the improvised - Hospital; she died in Montreal the following Spring. - - "Whose skill and courage." Page 19.-- - Dr. Richard Johnson, Health - Officer, distinguished himself by unremitting devotion to his arduous - duties; and also, along with Dr. Warburton, attended all cases in the - city; while Dr. J. T. Jenkins, with his son, Dr. S.R. Jenkins, were - in constant attendance at the Hospital. Notable also were Mayor H. - Beer, and clergymen Carruthers, O'Meara and MacIntyre. - - "The Hiding-place." Page 29.-- - Incidents in the career of the much - beloved and widely lamented Bishop MacIntyre. - - "In Memoriam." Page 98.-- - In memory of the pious and charitable Mrs. - M. M. T. Hodgson, daughter of the late Hon. J. Brecken, and wife of - the Hon. Edward J. Hodgson, Master of the Rolls of P. E. Island, - Canada; who died on the 19th October, 1889. - - "The heroes of Skye." Page 143.-- - During the Peninsular war the small - island of Skye sent out, to fight the battles of Great Britain, no - fewer than ten thousand men, many of whom arose to highest positions - in the army. - - "Two frigates." Page 153.-- - When the descendants of many of those - brave soldiers lately rebelled against landlord tyranny, warships - were despatched to Skye, to intimidate the oppressed. - - "Bonnie, braw Dundee." Page 145.-- - Graeme of Claverhouse, created for - his military services, Viscount Dundee; noted as an able General, but - held in detestation as the cruel persecutor of the Scotch Covenanters. - - "The Macneill." Page 142.-- - Archd. MacNeill, Esq., long the President, - and ever an ardent supporter of the Caledonian Club. - - "The spirit which rose." Page 180.-- - Daniel O'Connell, the Irish - Liberator. - - "Who dignifieth, etc." Page 186.-- - Hon. Senator A. A. Macdonald, for - some time Member of the Legislative Council, and one of the delegates - to the Quebec Conference anent Confederation. Elevated to the - position of Lieutenant-Governor of Prince Edward Island, 1884; since, - in 1891, appointed to the Senatorship. For the last fifteen years the - honoured Chief of the Caledonian Club. - - "H. M. S. Blake." Page 191.-- - H. M. S. Blake, Admiral Sir John - Hopkins, anchored in Charlottetown Harbour, 18th August, 1893. - - "Abegweit." Page 191.-- - Home on the Wave--Indian name for P. E. Island. - - "Port La Joie." Page 192.-- - Former name of Charlottetown. - - - - - * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - - 1. Silently corrected simple spelling, grammar, and typographical - errors. - - 2. 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