With a Biographical Sketch

JAMES STAUNI’ ‘ ON BABCOCK

W IT H A

BI O GRA P HI CA L S KET CH

O F T H E

H O R A U T .

H A R T F O R D m a "

P U B H E D B Y E D W N H I U N T .

Y RK : B K A N D C IB O A ER S R NER . 1 8 4 9 EN T E R E D accordi n t o A ct of Con ess i n t he ear 1849 g gr y ,

Y M Y A N N A C B AR H. B B OCK,

’ s fﬁ ce of h e s i c ou of onnec t cu i n t he Clerk O t Di tr t C rt C i t .

P R E S S 0 F

A S E T I F F A N Y C , co . , H A RT F O RD , CO N N . CO N T EN T S .

B IO GRA P HI A L S K C ETCH,

S O N Gs A N D YRICS L , Wi f ni reda ,

Mary ,

S rin S p g ong ,

S rin S p g ong , T h e S ’ S Young hepherd s ong ,

T he P arting , T t S S ha Last weet ong,

T and T hose Looks ears , S P ong on the rairie ,

T o G I A a Young irl playing n an rbor ,

S —T e S t c ong h wee blue lover ,

S —T h e S ong tars are in the sky , love ,

Regret ,

s Con olation , S — ong Consolement ,

T o

Lament , 0 ’s be my grave on the Mountain breast , N H Ode to Capt . athan ale , I V C O N T E N T S .

O d e t o S leep ,

S S of I D s trawberry ong ndian am els ,

’ d S of E T Roa ong arth s ravelers ,

S of t he ongs Laborers , ’ T he P S loughman s ong ,

S of H ong the aymakers ,

S of t he ong Reapers, H ’ S Corn usker s ong, ’ T he l S Mi ler s ong ,

Complain t and Respons e , I dleness , H G f idden rie ,

’ A V c oi e to the Young , F aith ,

Charity, K n i dness ,

Love , F reedom ,

D h of F eat the irst Born ,

’ D r c of P H est u tion haraoh s ost ,

D S RIP A N M DI V P E C TIVE D E TA TI E OEMS .

E c of A vening voi es utumn ,

T o F S P c a lower in a olitary la e , h e D D T eserted welling ,

T o an Ottawa Girl , N iagara ,

N m E i u a and ger a, C O N T E N T S .

J —V c of S uliet oi e a pirit ,

T o t he E n S veni g tar, ’ T he S pirit s Identity;

T he O ld N ew Year and the ,

Musings ,

T h e I d a S n i n ummer , T he W t W es ind,

T o S n ingi g ,

T o P F the iping rogs , W l c W i limanti ater, T he Clouds ,

T he H arvest Moon , S T h e now Bird , ’ T h e F t airies Migra ion ,

A n I S D a ndian ummer y, ’ ’ N ew Year s Morning , T rees ,

T h e of F Lilies the ield ,

T o W i the hippow ll ,

T o of d a group Chil ren ,

U s c nheard Mu i ,

Light , S tanzas ,

T o S S a inking hip , S olitary Musings ,

T o S my oul , r H Child en in eaven , V I C O N T E N T S .

N S eeking a ame , T T ime and ide ,

S onnets .

Reveries, S —E pring, vening, — S pring Morning ,

Q uestionings ,

F o f ft ate the Gi ed , F rag ments ,

T o V s my er es , ’ L E nvoi ,

N OT ES ,

P IL S ICA L F RA G E T H O OPH M N S ,

E R R A T A .

a e 82 line 3 : F or du s t read du s k P g , .

1 92 1 0 n , eed meed .

1 1 6 1 1 eani 'n s read eanlin , y g y g s . 1 3 2 9 , M i d read M ad .

BIOGRAPHICAL SKET CH OF THE A H U T OR.

J M S T A U N T N A C C ‘ w a s r S A ES Q B B O K, bo n in outh

C ct cu 1 8 5 . oventry, Conne i t, 1 From his earliest years he disc overed a s erious and thought

fu l a d e for l . His turn , n an ager thirst know edge b parents , who were plain ut exemplary persons,

s ' c ml in pired him , both by pre ept and exa p e with the

' ’ ' Hi f s prin c iples o f genuine morality . s ather means

c c at f im and o up ion as a armer , did not p ermit h to give

‘ uc his o f ext ent nd a c an ed ation to son that _ a eleg n e

d N eCessit com whic h his genius seemed to deman . y

‘ p elled the young man to learn t he Ccc u p ation of hi s

for n few parents , and his opportunities readi g were

f for en coura ement a and brie , nor was there, his g , single learned or literary person in the c irc le o f his f iht . T he c o a cgu a ari ée instin t his nature, however, impelled him to improve to the utmost every triﬂing ff advantage ; nor di d he su er any book , paper, or

a c c i w a p mphlet that a ident threw n his y, to leave his E c hands without a thorough perusal . ven almana s and old newspapers were laid by to be perused at the

t c c t ﬁrst respite from oil and on e read , so ex ellen ' ' 2 BICCRA PHICA Lr sKETCII

h s m e W r hi s u ace was i emory, th y e e in s bst n , and a

f ni n W d I ut great p art o te the very or s . He ndulged b seldom l n the C CInInon re creat ions of his equals, and

“ ' ' - t h n only n ureh as re ui-re vi or a nd e i s games q manly _ g ‘

dis a . m co o e and, skill, ﬁ _ ying In these an un m on p w r

' u f er few eﬁ o i' ts a if aptit de but a t a , as satisﬁed with

hi b C ab I having shown s a ility and ompanion le sp irit , l f a he would retire abrup t y , and all to re ding, or meditat ion . ” Through thé~ serious and aIWays W eIghty substanc e of his t hought s, there gleamed a vein of t he ﬁnest and s human ch Who c u d a mo t e humor, whi , to those o l p

' “ reci at e v c n rs c p him, ga e his o ve ation an un ommon r Wit r i er d charIn . His turn towa d an d humo d sCov e itself In his cho ice of reading,w hich s hoWed a pref

' en c fo the t e and t he er e r marvellous, h humorous,

' At the age Cf twelve years he ha d

l c c s a e a v n hun a ready olle ted and w d into olume , a

o ld cs o f ff te and had dred almana , all di erent da s , “fi lled several large sc rap books With Curi ous and val

- 1 f r u able p e c es C prose and ve se .

’ His nc i l t r - in i linat ons led him ear y o histo y , and this his v uisit io ns we re great and remarkable T hey evinced a b re adth Cf ens1on; and a sym h “ ' an t a h w d the ilO S C pathy with hum ity , h t o e ph

. r nth t o f fu . pher and phila ropis ture _yea s I d c i o f 1 iCs of InoIah t n the is uss on g ene al t y, W f t im E there ere ew equ alled h . ven at the age

f hi s on W c e c s C twelve years, reas ings ere l ar, con i e a d l c and d and e c n ogi al , when intereste x ited, even OF T HE A UT HOR . 3 f n f Ine r ﬁ orcible and eq ue t . His love o truth ve su

‘ fered hi m t o ' n r indulge an instant in a sophistry, o n d c ould any o e detect the same more rea ily in others .

b and sé f- c his Amia ility a high l respe t, prevented " du s ati re w hi ch n eve rtheless in lging in , _ he thoroughly r c if W unde stood, and ould employ, driven to it, ith surprising power .

‘ V earl n f e ff ery yi li e, h su ered a severe injury by the passage o f the wheels of a wagon over his head and

of w c C ff cons e u en body, hi h he ontinued to su er the q

C es - f f until his t wenty second year . T he eatures o his

‘ f c W c r i1s hed a a e ere , and he was taken up to all p

earan ce is c p dead . This was In h se ond . year ; but it was the w ill O f providenc e that his life should be

f c of spared , and himsel be ome an example virtue,

‘ and a Consolation to a ll who knew and c ould revere

c ar c c his h acter . His mental pre o ity was in nothing

“ more remarkable than in his p erfect rec ollecti on of the c 1rcu mst anc es o f this accident .

ft e o f f the In his ﬁ eenth y ar, the death his ather, and

‘ c O f a her c . dependen e _ _ mother and three younger hil O fa dren, threw upon him the responsibilities man nor

f o f f c did he ail to, meet the duties this new and di ﬁ ult T position W ith a manly and seri ous spirit . hough W young in years he was strong in mind . ithout c c pro rastination or desponden y , he engaged in every

W c f s and c h duty ith a surprising heer ulnes , a complis ed g B c c and astonishing tasks . y diligen e , providen e , h e f ’ c are , he not only supported ims l and his mother s i ’ f but With n , amily , H three years time , repaired the ” 4 BIOGRAP HICAL S KET CH

s c Of one home tead at a ost hundred dollars , and paid a debt of a thousand dollars leaving the family and

c o f c F or farm lear debts and in umbranc es . a youth

t w ithOut nc o f t he not yet twen y, experie e world , and f r a n c c c c v e c o f . c in arrow ir umstan es, su h e id n e o e st,

’ c c ce c n o f s e pra ti al skill and pruden , is ertai ly mo t rar r occ ur ence .

o f a e now In the eighteenth year his g , h aving plac ed himself an d his family in a situation o f com

ara i e c . s p t v ease, he was invited by an un le Mr Chri

t o her . c c o f c p G Bab o k , to take the situation a lerk In

F n Vi . his store , in rankli County , rginia Being on

o f fell o f a journey business , this gentleman ill small

" ’ “ i o f h is pox . On hear ng uncle s Condition, without a ’ e and mom nt s delay , the nephew mounted his horse , ’ O ff c u e o f rode at night, and in the o rs one day s jour ne of at i u yswam two rivers, one them a per lo s rapid,

“

‘ - o f c i and and , disregarding the danger ontag on, the W arnings o f “ the attendants, who rep resented to him

of . f th s c f the. uselessness exposing his li e in e ervi e o

W f en one for hom there was no hope, he gave himsel

re c o f c . w li om e ti ly to the are his un le To see one _ h

c s loved and respe ted perish alone among stranger ,

c H . w as more than his generous nature ould bear . e

his - t he remained by bed side to last, and rendered all c T the s ervic es d emanded in su h an extremity . he natural c onsequenc es followed this act of devotion ;

f f His c He ell violently ill o small p ox. onstitution

d a al nst vacci ha , not been prepared g the disease by

n c o is c c nation, and agai the independen e f h hara ter ‘ ' O F T HE AU T HOR : 5

e f. resCrI bed for m f show d itsel He p hi sel , and with

aid o f f f u s W e f u the a aith ul n r e, nt sa ely thro gh a vio l n c f e t atta k w ithout the help o a physic ian . S oon af c c d h e e N ter this a i ent return d to the orth, nd r l m f a p epared h sel to enter c ollege . Being already m o f of c c i a aster the studies a ommon edu at on , m ture i n c nd di sc 1 lin ed t o t o f us intelle t, a p habi s ind try , Mr . I

‘ c c c s r an ' amo u nt Cf Bab o k a quired in les than a yea , knowledge O f the C lassics . an d mathematic s whic h less vigorous intellects W ould be satisfied t O have gained “ r f H S in three O our years . e entered the ophomore I c o f o e i n f of 1837 . lass Yale C lleg , the all In Greek S in o f he had no uperior , and all other studies the c ourse he discovered great aptitude and disc ipline O f no a o i ntellect . College honors were temp t tion t his

“ ‘ ’ elevated and t ruly ambit ious spi rit, and hi s leisure Was Consequently devoted to an extended and thO I O ugh c o f r a n c Co l n ft ourse e di g, whi h he ntinued a er years, all t a ut hO rs I n E and made to include the bes nglish , Hi n Greek and Latin . s readi g was immense and m u c . A u t extraordinary _ st den ore thoro ghly a quainted with English - letters has probably never graduated at that University ' f f 840 i z . a o 1 S f , v ll , he oon a ter graduating in _the

“ “ f S c w o f at i s left home or t he outh , hieﬂy ith a View b e

’ “ ‘ ﬁ t in his a alread s erio u s l b . g he lth , y y impaired y study ‘ s c c s He t ook u p hi residen e in Tus aloo a, Alabama, ‘

“ and c ontinued there about t w o years and a half as the

“ - ‘ - s n t e ache r of a selec t School . Here , beside gaini g an " know led e o f the c i c w c extended t g pra t al orld, whi h 2 a: 6 BIO C RA EHICA L S KET CH

e su ch an occ upation in suc h a loc ality is sur to bring,

and securing t he es teem and liberal p atronage o f many .

e r i c e w as friends, it is b lieved that his es den e h re highly favorable" to his intelle ctual and moral devel f C c c Cp ment . The reedom and unreserve hara teristi c t he r o f ei h ch o f southern so iety, with inte vals l sure w i

c n s s eparate their daily tasks , unlike the onti uou

o f N ew E c i s f Industry ngland, and whi h typi ied by the wide unc ultivated s pac es separating and [ sur ’ c c on en rounding each planter s home, are spe ially g ial to t he growth of a reﬂective and independent spirit and from what ap pea rs in ' t he produ ctions o f his mmd ‘ t o I ' ev1dent v e at his peri d, it S that these ad antag s were f ft c not lost . Just be ore he le Tus aloosa , he delivered

c e o c u c c d . t he ct o f a ours f le t res onne te with , subje

c c ic e and d r edu ation, whi h el ited the surpris a mi ation

f c o all who heard them . These le tures were entitled ” Truth S earc hing 5 and the p rincipal t op l cs embra

c ed l n — o f t c d them were the nature Tru h , the on itions an d method o f seeking it and the va 1 iou s hindrance s

c o f n whi h lie in the way its attainment . This gra d and c omprehensive ﬁeld was surveye d from a p hilC c ﬂ c i o f W as sophi or re e tive po nt view, and the whole evidently a transc ript fI O m lh1s oWn intellectual exp e

ri enc e . W m e _Being hastily ritten m a so ewhat loos u c and unﬁnished style , adapted to a pop lar audien e ,

‘ h b hi u w o f c t ey were deemed y m n orthy publi ation , f or even o revision .

e N ew E n 1 843 He r turned home to gland in June, ,

with his health greatly improved , and with the devo ‘ OF T HE A UT HO R. 7

O f c o f tion a lover returning to the obje t his passion , f threw himself anew into his avorite studies . After spending a few months among his friends at Coven

W N e w c c try , he ent to Haven to ontinue the ourse O f

tu o ut fo r f for c s dy he had marked himsel , and W hi h

l c 1 u th e . c on y a university on/ d s pply means Iu on n exion with general literature and« the modern lan

“ als o t he O f a a guages, he took up studies L w nd Med

ic n e s d o f c c i i , not, as he ai , with a view pra ti ing e ther,

' but bec ause he c onsidered a knowl edge o f t hem n e

' c es s ar f y to a per ec t educ ation . His views o f a pro fession al life were anything but merc enary or even

c ommon . Knowledge to him was truly an end rather than a means 5 and he c ould hardly tolerate the idea of pursuing any branc h O f sc ienc e for the s ake o f get

" ‘ l He t ing a livelihood . once expressed to a friend his regret that there were in this c ountry no genuine

s e scholar like C oleridge , who pursu d thought as a

f h C c c u n c c lit pro ession , in t at wide ir le in l di g s ien e , Hi erat u re s . s c , philo ophy and theology own ompre hen s 1ve mental tenden c ies evidently sho wed that nothing short o f this c ould satisfy the demands o f his

d t of own mind . There was one epar ment , however ,

c c if c c this ir le , it be not in truth its enter, whi h more and more attrac ted him by its lofty and inﬁnite r ela

c f e W tions , and whi h, had li e been grant d him , ould doubtless have proved itself practic ally as the c alling — o f f o f . his li e , that Divinity But the mind whi c h thus essayed the inﬁnite asc ent

f m O f be ore it, had not esti ated the strength its ﬁnite 8 BIOGRAP HICAL SKET CH

i ' s - and already exhau ted ally . His body , though nat

" u rall r n t o y st o g and robus , could not l ng hold out under

‘ of e the demands suc h a spirit ; and h was obliged ,

f i m i n N ew a ter res ding about eig hteen onths Haven, to return home and plac e hi mself un d er the c are of a m n f p hysici an . Though s ee i gly aware o the nature

c o f c f and and ause his physi al ailure, notwithstanding

e c o f f the s rious and repeated remonstran es his riends, h e could not be indu c ed utterly to abandon his . intel

c u sinc e as c le t al pursuits, , , he said , they had be ome a

c r e o f f mus t ne essa y elem nt his li e , and that he not at

" “ c a nd n f t he on e e tirely orego them, even to prolong ‘ W b life o f his body . ith that 1ns at i a le craving fo r u i c him a tr th wh h pursued as a p ssion , he persisted

t fall o f 1 845 ha o far thus un il the , when his disease d s

v hl s mmd s of a o pre ailed Over , that the ight bo k, or

“ ld a f r ac . hearing one read , wou lmost distr t him A te

' trying in vain the eﬁ ec t s o f a short r esidenc e among

T f t he i W : h n . some riends near sea s ore esterly , R I 7

f hi s c n n f r returned home , to orget own o dition o p er o m in f c o f ff g the last o ﬁ es a e c tion to a beloved parent . His mother,whose strong mental character and ap rec i at in f d a o all p g on ness had, perh p s m re than other

nc f ow n c r inﬂue es , ostered his intelle tual g owth, died r f ce of e a , a t er a n i f in De mber this y . lo g and pa n ul ill

' t ho u h n ot e c e ness . This event, g un xpe ted, quit over

f bl and t he few c ome him in his en ee ed state, relaxed

a f . remaining ties th t ettered his sp l rit t o the. earth .

He had previously lost by ;d~ e ath two sisters o n e only

1 0 BIO Gﬁ A f'HICA L S KET CH

- hr t Io and v . Christian resignation, t oughou his ng S e ere

" ff s e r a nd o n su ering wer unb oken , his only regret leaving the world w as that h e might not live to c o m

' ” p lefe one o r t w o of ' the i nany plans he" had devis ed and begun for the good of mankind:

This brief biographic al outline, it is felt, affords a

very i rrfp erfect idea o f the man whose earthly life and . / h s th remat rel t erm inat ed . T he t rue i tory _was us p u y ' o f r l t he s ec o f e c is biography _ pe sons ike ubj t this sk t h

nf e ec in t he u h f et . u old d within, and r orded tho g ts, e

of t he t n 1n ings and experiences mind, ra her tha out . W . a i n r ward events hat Mr . B c ok was in his o al

s cral c c i s few and o hara ter, know n to the hearts that were permitted to hold dai ly and intimate intercourse with him and t he veif whi ch gua rds his memory l n — these the best shrine of departed worth - i s too s ac red

‘ to be here withdrawn . His dispositi on was marked by that retiring modest y and reserve peculiar to a

c and e r nf d deli ate s nsitive mind , so that he arely u olde

f c his th t n fr . himsel ex ept to os i timate iends This,

f ’ united as it was with a rare greatness andfi nde p e nd

' c e of s 1rit wh ich f en“ r fr en held aloo all ali spi its, re h p dered his c haracter nne that was little understood out

r l o f his ow n immediate el c e.

‘ ‘ W hat he w as as a scholar and thinker he did not

‘ ' ! - ~ livet o demonstrate t o the world s Bht as the nature

' o f lant s 'and ma s a b lea f r p ani l m y e rned , rom thei

‘ e c s as e l f h c o innate t nden ie w l as rom t eir mpleted ,

‘ ‘ c ist oi‘ w e m a et i of W t rowth and h y, so y some dea ha g g ) on T HE A UT HOR. 1 1

l i n f Mr . d h c m B . wou have be en t is respe t ro his wide

t c u c f m he m in elle t al tenden ies, and ro what ai ed to do t r h n ra he t a what he actually accomplished.

‘ o th c m t a nd r had i h Among er things , he onte p la ed " deed commen ced /the work of e lite - time ; vi z; the

’ re r t f i l i i r p p a a ion o a c ompleteEt ymolog ca ED ct on a y . T w as c the i i ti ve i o his to ontain, ﬁrst, p r m mean ng f v t he En l e i t he e ery word in glish anguag , w th origin

al f r c it w a s o eign root when e derived secondly, its varl ouS secondary me anl ngs with t he histo ry and

o f as far a s co c mode transition uld be as ertained , h r all s non ms o u o c t i dly, the y y fthe lang age etymol gi al l c al c h s of y and histori ly tra ed , wit the variou shades me aning ac curately distingul shed and illustrated by '

examples from classic authors .

“ h he t o c m it T is vast undertaking, had lived o plete

cc to 1ven to a ording his original design, would have g the W orld a Work immensely needed and o f inc alcu la a fe w h i t he ble v lue and men perhaps ave l ved, on

o et and wh le b t er qualiﬁed to undertake accomplish it . As a Greek and Latin scholar he h ad few i f any s u

riors . B eside he E c p e s t nglish, ( an ient and modern,) he was more or less thoroughly acquainted with t he

S x Ce c a c m n S w e a on, lti G eli , Ger an , Italian , Da ish ,

S am h H w s had dish , p s and ebre language He also m m S n c an , c omme ed d ade some progress the yriac ,

rabic haldai c . Hi s h s o A , C and Chinese abit f study

and c as a u n mental appli ation , m y

S f- c commonly rigid . el relian e , devotion and indom _ it able perseveran c e were not less conspicuous in his BIO GRA ﬁ HICA L‘ S KET CH

n c a t r c and n i telle tu l than his moral cha a ter, othing;

' ' u dh old him back frm Kment al u rs u it ill' it s co l o any p t ,

“ " e d i l . a n was attained These qu l ties , so essentia yet perilous to the sc holar who would accomplis h ali ght i W r f . o h m f and a e w ere i n on e e o thy i sel his g , , e s ns , the pri me c ause o f his premature death : a s ad and

” i n f c not s t he : of s g iﬁcant a t, yet the ﬁr t in history m c well to n ind, whi h it were po der

W B c ck e be . hat Mr . ab o was as a po t may learned frem the p roductions herewith published - W ith re .

ai d hotvever it 1s i t / cons ider h t to these , mportant o t a

‘ : t o f his n and they exhibi O nly one aspect mi d, that an , f w n imperfect one . Most o them ere hastily throw ’ off f t i i c a r r , and le t without tha rev s o n whi h a m tu e judgment and a more prudent regard for p ersonal T fame would have supplied . hey are given to the c o w d n and e c co d publi by his n yi g r lu tant nsent, an

in ac cordanc e . with the wishes of h is few s u rvw l ng ' f e f S s o f a i ri nds , as ragmentary and broken ymbol mind whose ye arn mgs after the beautiful and the

‘ e s ec a d bu1 st1n tru , a here r orded , prev ile only by g the olde vaseand S d ic w g n snapping the ilver cor , wh h ith

held the idea-from the reality : It is perhaps impos sible to gather from anythmg ’

- c s of M . B s a e fe c c or whi h remain r w ritings , p p r tly ' ' ' h nd rect est imat e o f his intellectual c aracter . His mi “

‘ w as o f that i ntuitive and spontaneous order w hich shows itself most truly when least c ons c ious o f effort

d n cc 1n an p remeditatio ; when drawn out o asionally, f r t he freedom o Soc ial and unrest ained c onversation . or T HE A UT HOR . 1 3

c l 1ndeed m His onversationa powers were re arkable ,

c engaging all who had . sympathy enough to eli it

t c acc u m them , with the swee , ontinuous and ever u

n c lating ﬂow o f his ideas . I this respe t he might be c if c m ompared , the omparison would not see auda i u s o f f 1 o f c o , with one the most wonder ul modern

re poets and thinkers , Coleridge , whom he strongly t h f sembled in e c ast and quality o his mind , and who next to S haks p eare was his favorite author . Like him he viewed all things through a spiritual medium

c i i o f the reﬂe t on or emanat on , the poet would say, the s W real p irit ithin , but quite as truly , perhaps , the o f S c irradiation the pirit without, whi h only the spir it u al mind can disc ern . The ideal world with its in

o f of o f spirations love, truth and beauty , was not a f remote realm separated rom the here and now, a playg round o f the fanc y into whi c h h e occasionally e c but sallied to r lax and re reate his spirit, the world

c in whi h he truly lived and wrought, and in whose

c light and air the a tual world was evermore bathed .

i m f fo r f He had a s ymp ath z g ondness _ the writings o

Mrs . c f N ew Child , and her harming Letters rom

' to him W in York , read by his sister during the long

. fe w f h i s c on ter evenings , a we eks be ore death , tributed greatly to his delight . This delight was in c reased by his ﬁnding so c lose a c orrespondenc e be tween many o f the ideas here so beautifully express ed and those he had habitually entertained and dis

o f f f r c oursed to his riends , during the last three or ou years o f his life . 1 4 BIO GRA PHICA L S KET CH

His religious character corresponded with t he ele n W vation and comprehens iveness o f his mi d . ithout

c f f e publi ly pro essing his religion , he yet mani est d its reality in a life a nd spirit c onstantly actuated by strict

c Chris tian princ iples . His views on religious subje ts W r c e ere in the t uest sense enlightened , omprehensiv and liberal . He w a s t oo muc h o f a thinker to be a dogmatist ; too c atholic to ac c ept or impose mere

for f f o f e op inion aith , or make the orms the und rstand ing the measure and test o f piety in the heart at t he same time t oo c onsc ientious and wise to be indifferent

r o f reli 1 u s . to t uth, least all g o truth He was an ar

o f Dr . r m r dent admirer the late Cha ing, and had ead

W o f S with pleasure and proﬁ t the ritings wedenborg, but he could not be . said to have adopted the faith o f

Hi s o f S either . love the c riptures was supreme o ver ‘ f him t o every thing derived there rom , and grew with ’ s livm c the last . The e g ora les, read without note

c c c or omment, were his onstant ompanions during the

o f f last months his li e on earth , and by their guiding

c d m c o f f light, re eive in the si pli ity aith , it is believed , he saw and shaped his departure into the ‘ life ever ’ lasting .

' One regret was expressed by him during his last

c ec illness , whi h , hoed as it is by all who know its

‘ re al1z1n hi import by g s worth, may be regarded as a voic e of warning addressed to all sons o f genius ‘ who may c ome after him . He lamented when it was too late the infatuation whic h led him in the ardor o f his intellec tual pursuits to disregard the premonitions o f r T HE A o UT HO R . 15

c o disease , and to indulge the ravings f the mind at

o f t he of . H the expense body , and so life ef eared he ha d done w rong by this fatal transgression o f the d o f ivinely appointed laws human existenc e a wrong,

! c c o alas whi h he uld not repair, and whic h the world f is again le t to mourn over . It is a wise and true " ‘ faith that in every event ‘ some moral truth or lesson c f is onveyed . I the import and effe ct o f this one more sac riﬁce to intellect ual passion shall be to c onvinc e s c holars o f the duty o f recognizing the existenc e and

o f bod f attending to the health the y, there will be ewer

c o f f f f o f vi tims , and more masters , the too o ten atal gi t genius . f f o . c c o c The prose writings Mr Bab o k, whi h he

f c man usc m t s le t many s attered p , are mostly unﬁnished ’ f o f ragments or studies thought , on literary and w f philosophic al subjec ts . A fe o these are given at

o f as c o f his the end the volume , spe imens merely f habit and tone o thinking . In person Mr: Babcoc k was ﬁ ve feet ten inc hes in hei ht ~ w it h g , a straight and well proportioned ﬁgure , a c f c omplexion naturally air, but whi h in later years be c ame

"S i ’ ’ ickl ed o er w it h th e pale cast of t hought .

He had light brown hair, grey hazel eyes deeply set, and at times intensely expressive , a slightly aquiline

f . nose , and a remarkably high expansive orehead

His age at the time of his death was thirty - one — years and ﬁve months a life Short indeed if meas u red o f if by the number its days, but measured by 1 6 BIO GRA PHICA L S KET CH

s f e o f d thought and eelings, and the prog r ss the min

i . in wisdom , he may trulybe sa d to have lived long

' ' o f his a S h'e He died in the maturity strength , just : was about to reap the ﬁrs t fruits o f his mild and assid

“ o u sl c e r fo r fa u y ultivated genius too a ly perhaps me ,

fo r too early the age he might have adorned , but not

‘ too early fo r the higher and serener c areer o f pro gress on whic h he has alre ady. entered . His harvest

- 1 . . RE U 1 CA T s not temporal but eternal Q ES IN PACE .

The one t o whose . fraternal ﬁdelity the task o f edit

t f me ing this volume was intrus ed, and rom whose mori a ls f c c f c the oregoing sket h is omp iled, be ore orn

let in p g the duty assigned him by his brother, has f been c alled to ollow him into the grave . The only

o f f o f t surviving sister, the last a amily seven , ye lingers behind ; and while waiting her turn to join t f S s hose who have allen one by one around her, end “ forth this ﬁnal memorial as a sac red duty whi c h she c of w hich owes to the beloved dead, and the dis harge . : is almost the only tie t hat binds her to the living . A just regard for the claims of private affe ction seems to require some brief supplementary notic e o f the brother whose memory is thus sac redly and insep ara bly blended with that o f the Other . CHA RLES JO S EPH BA BCO CK was younger than hi s ' e e n bo rn on 25th o f brother by thre y ars , bei g the

M c 1 8 1 9 ar h , and remained without those advantages W O f o f a liberal education hich the elder achieved .

18 BIOGRA PHICA L S KET CH

his brother s elfi educat ed truer sense even than , , and that to a degree whi c h many do not attain by passing F e through high literary institutions . or the last thr e or four yea rs o f his life he devoted his leisure seasons to the business of teaching : and he was engaged in this employment till a few weeks before his death .

T h of t w o and o e loss a mother, sisters his nly brother, — ‘ in quic k and sad su cc es siohé the last bereavement

o f all— c d c i f the sorest qui kene , by the pier ing gr e he oc c asion ed o f c m a t y , , the seeds onsu ption lready sown or hereditary in his system and he survived his brother but ;a little more than a year . He died at

W . I; l ot h o f 1 848 29 . esterly, R , on the July, , aged A S none o f the poetic al produ ctions o f the younger would appear to mu c h advantage beside those - of the

S c c h elder, a ingle spe imen only is subjoined, whi , both for c e its subje t , and the earnest pathos and spontan ous

c of ma a ro ri at el c s s simpli ity its style, y p p p y lo e thi f imper ec t sketc h .

A A E T L M N .

BY 0 . J . B A B CO CK.

T h ou art éold i n dea h m b o he _ t , y r t r, M lo ed m onl on ! y v , y y e A nd oh 1 for me no o ther C an do as hou h as d one t t .

Kno n but t o be belo ed w v , Best loved wh ere known th e best ; A star of light th at moved S e enel t o its es r y r t . 1 OF T HE A UT HO R . 9

T hy soul s eemed ever te emi ng W ith th ou ghts and truths s u blime A ligh t upo n th ee gle aming e o h e ﬁ elds of T me B y nd t i .

W hen weary oft and fainting ’ A l on life s ru ed o ad g gg r , O f high er thi ngs acq uai nti ng T h o ds n ew s re n h b s o y w r t gt e t wed .

’ N 0 mo e I ll kn o t h each n r w y t i g, N or h ear t h h r ll n o i ce y t i i g v , W hich t o my s ou l d e ep reaching d a all e oi W oul m ke it r j ce .

are h os e e es fo e e Closed t y r v r, A nd stilled that faithful breast ; Bu t lovelier wast tho u never T han now i n las ti ng rest

” I kno tis on t o mo u n he e w wr g r t , T hou h eavenly spirit ﬂ own ’ B ut oh I m very lon ely ; F or hou as all mi ne ow n t w t .

I stand and still keep gazing U on h a marble bro p t t w,

h e e m n d it s man s on ai s n W r i i r i g , — 3 S h one forth W h ere i s it n ow

In h he u rer d w elli n ig r , p g , A lo ri ous hea e nl y s h e e g , v p r , T h ee angels now are telli ng u ndreamed of he e T ruths all r .

O e las fo nd lo ok ere lea i n n t v g, ’ A nd t he earth i s o er thee thrown ’ T i s done—an d dee l r e n , p y g i vi g, ’ I feel I m now A L O N E 20 BIOGRA PHICA L S KET CH

c a n c s The following Communi tio , written by a la s

f o f . c c mate and intimate riend Mr Bab o k , and his

c associate in Tus aloosa, was published in the Inde ” o ft pendent Monitor, a paper f that City , soon a er his e death . It is app nded as supplying some interesting details and a partial ﬁlling up to the outline already given .

T o the E di t or of t he Monitor .

in c You have doubtless , ommon with others , been

of h of f JA MES S . grieved to hear the deat our mutual riend ,

D d c o f e T u s B A BCOCK . uring his resi en e sev ral years in

caloos a . . c n c and f , Mr B made many a quai tan es riends who I would naturally wish to hear S omethingO f him S ince he

is ‘ hat ve He h i o f . ft . le us died in town Coventry, Conn ,

13t h of A l of d s c on the day last pri , the i ease with whi h he S t he ha d been long threat ened . upposing a residence in south had so far removed a predisp osition to consumption

r f d as to rende his return home sa e , he venture to return in 1843 i d the year , and it is probable he would have rega ne his c l d f health entirely, oud he have enied himsel all inter

I S co rse . c u with books n his enior year in ollege ,

f c CVer s re he had le t his lass , n , as was then suppo ed , to u bu t t t and l t rn ; relaxation res ored his heal h , he was ab e to graduate that year .

f d e S t Our rien di d a martyr to udy, and to his intense

H e intellectual habits . was a purely intellectual charac

A ll u s m ntal . H e ter . his p rsuit and pleasures were e had

inm c made greater atta ents , a quired more various know 2 1 OF T HE A UT HOR .

’ for k ledge , and had a more insatiable thirst nowledge than

‘ an H e Wa s an r any young m I ever knew. enti e devotee

c c u t o f to s ien e and letters , an ardent st den history , and an

especial enthusiast in the literature of the Germans . H e was as much enamored of philosophy as o f poetry ; some

f f ci of times giving himsel over to the as nating. power the

M s s omet irnes ss b u es , and entirely engro ed in the su tilties

o f metaphysics .

“ Having been an intimate friend of the subject of this

c i W sket h , and know ng him to have been hat has been

— “ c b c for he des ri ed , and mu h more to these added the best — qualities of the heart the writ er hereof desires not only

a rt ialit ‘ o f f to be indulged in the p y a riend , but to pay a trib

c c hi ute to a somewhat rare hara ter , an original t nker , and “ o Hi s inabilit s e s a man f genius . y to do ju tic to uch a charact er will be ove rlooked by those friends and admirers

of . c c f ll c l a Mr Bab o k, who , u y appre iating , wi l underst nd

the difﬁ culty and delicacy of the task.

W c h e of hile he resided in our ity, passed but little his

H e o time in general society. was f a peculiarly retiring and o t o m des disposition , and though possessed f ﬁ n e social

“

i f o f t d . I t qualit es , he was ond soli u e n those intima e cir

c c t n T s c les where best known and app re ia ed , not o ly in u a

w a s loosa , but elsewhere , he looked upon as a young man

of m c o s s d c u h pr mi e , and as de tine to be ome eminent in the

His f cc o f world . riends were a ustomed to speak him not

ch of of x so mu as a man talents , or e tensive attainments ,

’ but as one peculiarly gifted and endowed with ﬁn e and

l ch i rare qua ities and powers , su as m ght ﬁt him to shine

c of l a ne w u n x in ertain ﬁelds iterary l bor , hitherto and e 22 BIOGRA PHICA L S KET CH lored in Co unt r ﬂ t o i p , at least , our y attempt th ngs untried . A ll will remember the astonishment he created by the lee tures he delivered just on “ the eve of his departure from

T n uscaloosa . But those who k ew him more intimately were not It was a wo nder that such a man c c c o ould live ontentedly, so long in one pla e , with ut devel oping hims elti Many could not understand how a man of

~ ch s c c c su rare mind , u h power , su h varied s holarship , so

b ch o teeming with great and no le thoughts, and su gl wing ,

r of u c c u u amon us bu ning words eloq en e , o ld pass q ietly g , f da fo r v rom y to day, years , with no ambitious endea ors to

c . O u r d c d f d see his own superiority re ognized e ease rien . felt and philosophized upon all this . A s much as he valued

c c for a f . H true appre iation , he ared not ephemer l ame e f i f of lf v o ten, with his ntimate riends , spoke himse as ha ing

c t o u h a . eased be ambitious , and although but abo t t irtyye rs of age when he died , he used to date the ambitious period of his life ten year s previous, which itself is evidence that

‘ he f t and more ur os e a had lived as er to p p th n most men , had e c e ch e young or old , and reﬂ t d mu upon the hollown ss an su fﬁ c of T he c s d in cien y earthly greatness . le ture above

d f c c o f named he delivere less rom hoi e than a sense duty, -

“ f H e c o f and to gratify a ew friends . hose a theme the ” f c ct T h- n and r e lo tiest hara er rut seeki g , it will be membered that the lectures were characterized fo r their

“ c c high moral tone, their pure , patrioti , and philanthropi

s d t h e ff dis sat ~ sentiment . But splendi as e ort was , he was

H e had for lf is ﬁ ed h . wit it the highest standard himse , a nd seemed to scorn all common effor ts You could not c c did f riti ise him with more severity than he himsel , and 23 O F T HE A UT HOR .

of O w n c he had a very humble opinion his produ tions, and

f c of yet , with a su ﬁ iently vivid impression the arduous task

of c f hi s i produ ing what maylive a ter us , h ghest aspiration,

c of c c doubtless , was to be ome the author su h a reation , a

I laboriu f for poem . t is probable he was g to ﬁt himsel

f His c c b of . su h a work, as the one great la or his li e areer

cut ahd his l for is now short , earth y work, wise purposes,

is ﬁnished .

c c f fu c of Mr . Bab o k has le t many gitive pie es poetry ,

of c c a nd ful some whi h , exquisitely haste beauti , have been ’ h t h e A i c S d c . publis ed in mer an Review , in e his eath

T he E . C hi s f and ditor, Mr olton, who was intimate riend

c - ! d s in lass mate , and who alas die al o the last month , pre f c c nof h is lf of a ing ertai poems , himse a poet , speaks thus

his brother min st rel.

T he qualities o f his poems are peculiar. T hey are

t u s h built somewha pon antique models , and seem al oito ave ’ been affected in a measure by the author s G erman stud ies bu t their eminent simplicity and truthfulness will

c an W i omm d attention in an age hose poetry , l ke its social

al i ﬁ c f in mor ity, is grow ng to be arti ial, shallow , and alse ” T h e f f sentiment . ollowing is one among the poems re er red to :

RE IN HEA E CHILD N V N.

’ T w as a i s it h meet and to c w e fa , u hing,

O f t h e manl ort hern Mi nd y N , t e ve o lit tle chi ldren T ha , in H a n, t ,

Is t he ﬁ t t ing task assigned, ‘ 24 BIO GRA PH ICA L S KET CH

S t ill t o s catt er th e young blossoms

ver eart h eve t hi n O , by ry g,

' ’ A s th e spring s ret urning season s t Co mes w i t h beaut eou vi si i ng .

S t oo i n li h t ro m ﬂ ow er at hw a s p g g f y p y , S t rew ed t h ey hill and mead and plain

S o t and uileless as t h e sun - ou f g , cl ds

' ‘ Sh ed t hei r oﬁ erin s o f rain g .

A nd t o all men t o ili ng under, W elco me came th ei r gift s of love ;

F o r like i rd s rom sk - w ard si n in b f y g g, B ro ught t hey t idin gs from above

‘ . Gladdenin Eart h w it h lessed o retaste g b f , ' t A s her mo rtal hours w en by,

O f t hat Land w he eﬂ o w ers unfa di n r , g, S ri n ‘ nd o mortall p g a bl om im y.

Having been favored with the peru sal ofs everal let ters m f he ft f . c c t o u o ro Mr Bab o k . written back T scal os a a ter le

n i s i e ac h us , and having Obtai ed perm s on to make xtr ts t ere

f m I c f e r c t he u o f d o . ro , heer ully mb a e opport nity so ing

A ll his co c is ce and far rresponden e ex edingly interesting,

of bl c W h ar u is more worthy pu i ation , together it his v io s m

‘ c o uc c r li of ellane us writing s , than m h whi h the pa tia ty

‘ friends too Often g ives to the public . O u r friend had an

fo r t e for be eye na ure , and inde d whatever is to seen by t h e e traveler , and, as will app ar , he had a disposition to

all s T o a m appropri ate he aw . pass over ost entert ain in c h s u m g epistle , des ribing i northward tour in the s m er o f 1843 N ew l , via Mobile , Or eans , the Mississipp i, the

and c he ca o f lakes, eastward , in whi h des nts a thousand

26 B IO GRA PHICA L S KET CH parable loss to our country and history ! If you ever take

the t rouble to read the . great work of the Copenh agen

A u S c A ic A it s ntiq arian o iety, mer an ntiqu ies in Dani h ’ - and a P f. f c O f ir N O r h L tin , by ro Ra n, or the ritique , the t ’ N ew E d b J . T . S i men in nglan , y mith , or even a rev ew of i w E t t he N A c R sa d ork by veret in orth meri an eview, you will see the subject discussed with great learning and

f w has T c . w al he logi Long ellow , you kno , ritten a b lad , ’ ’ S A . H K P S e keleton in rmor Mount ope , ing hilip s at , is

t ou rne t o s ee . I P wor h a long j y went to lymouth , the old Rock w here our fat hers and mothers planted their ﬁrs t

‘ f o o O t . P r o f c ff foots eps a t the top this ro k has been br ken ,

‘ and c se a neat i r n w t h is now to be seen en lo d in ron aili g, i

f n of a c d Pil a g reen yard , in ro t newly ere te building , '

’ ’ ‘ s H c t O f w hich s t ru ct u re c mm grim all , the obje is to o em

W a re d v c orate the event . ithin deposite arious reli s and

‘ r of a s memorials , a libra y some ntique and rare book ,

s s old pamphlet and papers , be ides several portraits of

' ' some o f the distinguished p er s onag es of those old days

W r S t bu t e the inthrops , and Carve s , and andishes, abov all f t is r n , in the ron hall a very la ge painting,representi g — S c a ! T he s the Landing ene admir ble snowy ba e , dry,

- c c c and broken limbed trees , the i i led ro ks , the little boys

ffl c fl at tened dr a wn girls , well mu ed and loaked and , yet i b up and sh vering and lowing their fingers ; the manly, . c f of W h and S s d c f heroi orms int rop tandi h , hol ing on er ence in the foreground w ith one or two Indians the half

f of l W ondering , hal shrinking gazes the ittle ones at those ef Iov f al strang orms, on a strange shore ; the ely and r i

t n I n female forms as hey look on, leani g n pe sive trust and OF T HE A UT HO R 27

s of r c resignation on the sturdy houlders their p ote tors ,

s u tter i n th ou ht a ll eeming to g , through hardships and

a these home I can d ngers, where are , there is But go no farther in describing what might t ask a connoisseur and

a sk . I c a volume went into the Boston emetery , Mount

w os be s o Auburn , orth alm t all to seen , ave the B ston Mon

n c is O f i c f f ume t , whi h last built Q u n y granite , ﬁ ty eet

a t b square ase , tapering gently to the top , two hundred

and t a W twenty fee a plain shaft as s id Mr . ebster in hi s spee ch last June and the w a y he brought O u t t hose h i d n two s ort s mple words , is sai to have been asto ishing ,

c f A t I ele tri ying , mightily sublime . Cambridge visited the

‘ La w and U niversit O ld l y libraries ; something above Ya e , and alw ays w ill be so long as B oston spirit and wealth re

main proverbial . I n am now at home , dippi g somewhat into German and

I int end N e reading S hafts bury. spending the winter in w

H al aven, studying gener literature and the modern lan

" I l k T u c c guages . should i e s aloosa better than any pla e

U S I of all for in the nited tates know , take it all in , but one ” h n of ks . t i g , the dearth boo

I f m N ew H J 17 1843 n a letter ro aven , dated anuary , , he

: I v l writes ha e just arrived here and got settled , and shal

f all s . remain three or our months , perhaps next ummer

h I h . A mong ot er things shall study law , not wit a view to

c c c necess a r t o a er ect educa pra ti e it , but be ause it is y p f

I t u - s for s ti on . have been a s dent lave these six or even 28 BIOGRA PHICA L S KE T CH

' t eacher u slave i a years , and a some three years , now me n to be a free man for this one year at least

N o w uh st andin h s of f e o is subs e t g t e e resolutions r ed m , h quent l ett ers show that he continued t o be as much a ’ s and d Suf lave to study as ever , his health was evi ently

ferin f t o ‘ ackno w led e f g rom it , thoug h slow g it to himsel or others In A pril o f t he sameyear he writes from the same

c T he c pla e spring has ome in earnest 3: birds singing ,

f 1 n s s I I f e 1 . n rogs p p g , and skie miling wish elt better to

I “ d a d joy it all . have studied a good e l this winter , a goo

I d c fo r m and n re eal too mu h y health, am goi g home to l ’ t in S u S ou t h ha d cru i . s for You the nny , have pring a

1 E c d S haks n long while . have strolled up ast Ro k to rea

i a nd c c -in peare under the p nes , anti ipate mu h pleasure

doing the same this summer.

S haksp ear e grows with me every year . I have read

all O ld di about our trage es , and have yet a still higher idea of S h aksp eare from the almost immeasurable di stance he a t leaves them behind . I have been re ding he G erman — and S c W - s . a l O f t he dramatist , Goethe hiller lenstein ’ S s C c are c latter and helley en i, the greatest dramas sin e

ks ear e W s O f r n t g of S ha p . allen tein is one the g a dest hin s

c human genius . But there is omparativelylittle invention ’ s in it . T he material were readyrough hewn to the artist s

m r and h o ne of c . hand , the ero the ost d amati in history

’ ’ You have read S chiller s thirty years war . Did you ever

’ read Carlyle s life o f S chiller If notyou have a treat in

S c ! h lf store . hiller the igh minded noble artist , and a se

‘ I of martyr to poetry. might tell you a thousand matters T OF HE A UT HO R . 29

W e ha a o f . d c c s interest here ﬁne on ert la t night , the H c f m f f m ut hinson a ily per ormers , real Yankee singers ro ’ T - - th e old G ranite S tat e . hey sing ag ain to nig ht ; to mor

J r and th e P row, unio exhibition , hiladelphia brass band , w h o f l x t T s o t per orm a so ne uesday night , - that be ween and H c s h l be as c that the ut hin ons, we s a l vo al here in the ’ ” c o f elms ofni ht in ales . ity , as a nest g g

It as ns f his t would be e y to multiply quotatio rom let ers ,

c o f equal interest and beauty to these . One ould not go

i n k c for he S amiss ma ing extra ts , all wrote was in the ame

t f h u tone and s yle , sometimes, indeed, play ul and umoro s ,

a s f fo generally grave , lways u e ul , and r the most part ,

an He upon the most serious and import t subjects . always shows a deep interest in his T uscaloosa friends and ao

u aint ances i of ui q , mention ng many them by name , inq ring o f f dl of H e k . their wel are , and spea ing kin y all _ loved to

O f adver hear their prosperity, and was distressed at the

T o t he o f s ity of any. learn death any one of them was very painful to him . O n one occasion he says

1 O f ofP S m am very sorry to hear the death rofessor i s .

H e was a p articul ar friend of mine . N o doubt he shortened him hi s days by study . Last spring I met while on his

S O ha s s s d northern tour. he pa e and we are pass — ing all like ﬂowers we wither and like leaves we fall ;

D O N O T th e h and we do not , , lay solemn lesson enoug to

I s o f d h heart . was al o grieved to hear the untimely eat

Jul 4th 184 of s . I 5 Mis B n another letter dated y , , he thus laments the death of another friend : 4* 30 B IOGRAP HICAL S KET CH

It grieves me deeply to learn the death of young Por

H e of T c f . ter , another my us aloosa riends is another ‘ c J s h ! c t u c d vi tim, poor o ep to too mu h s dy, too mu h plo ’ and t u a ding poring s dy, as a great many others h ve done , ” - d T h e of th e s r i s i n l an w i ll do . rest ame lette a me an

ol ch y s train . I net My health is extremely delicate . may live to see

a another summer , though there may be m ny seasons yet

“ M c k t : I am in store for me . y ase must soon ta e a urn

- I f e d shortly going to t he sea side . eel some ren we energy from the glorious morn of this glorious anniversary: Y ou

H h ! l s I h ave ﬂlo s t l have health . ealt the b e sing perhaps I ‘ f d . s orever , in this worl But to know that tho e esteem

h c I a k lf u m s. and love ave that whi h l c , ha makes p y los — A true knowledg e o f this our mysterious existence of the

w ho ad res i Being has m e and p reserves all , will give us g

‘ t s T h e d b e nation to all that comes o pa s . iﬁ r enc betwee n

of to the shortest and longest human lives , dwindles a

c a w ete n l I n r a . point , a nothi g, omp red ith our duration

e no l s will troubl you more about my health , and am a mo t ” c ashamed I have said so mu h .

His disease was pulmonary consumption; of the slow

a and f c of and gradu l type , , as is o ten the ase sedentary and i c h d c of ntelle tual men , with t at isease , he omp lains the ' difﬁ cu lty o f diseng ag ing his mind from too much and too deep and abstract reﬂection . A t di fferent times h e s I S a c peaks thus , have not enjoyed the ummer s mu h as I could have W ished ; thinking has become a sort of c h i I e raving appetite wit me , almost a d sease . am mor OF T HE A UT HO R . 3 1

h o I un appy in trying not t think; than in thinking . have thought too much and wrou ght too little the last six ” . I occu or seven years ndeed , some bustling , busying p a t ion is the one I should have taken immediately on leav ” W c . ing ollege hat value is any thing in the world , or

T s d f . h e s the whole worl itsel , without health impre ive language of scripture may apply with almost equal force

W ﬁ t he to body as soul . hat shall it pro t a man to gain ’Z f w hole world and lose his h ealth . I have never elt so ‘ ’ much as new t he value of a soun d mind in a sound body .

S I ad and tudy as have m e it , is a weariness to the ﬂesh , ” I must take a short summer ramble for recreation .

' Yet in the very next sent en ce s he would launch out u n O f f - c s c po some his avorite and mind taxing topi s , di uss

t u n f a ing his s dies , seeki g to grati y some new and tr nsient

c c forf . uriosity, and laying s hemes uture improvement

’ W h en I T c I . in in M s . was us aloosa , saw Dr library

O f S H e d some f the works o wedenborg . ma e lit tle or no

cc n O f t hem me O a ou t , and his son told that one or two f

fo r P them had been torn up waste paper . erhaps others

f . N o w if may share the same ate , you would call on the

c and cu h fo r I u d Do tor pro re t em me , ( presume he wo l

’ h I c of part with t em , ) have a uriosity to read some them , ” c x c since they have created su h e itement .

. O f s W ill you no t ask Mrs E . T u caloosa for one of her

s f O f eyele s ﬁshes rom the Mammoth Cave , several which

T h e m she ha s preserved . ell r so e men hereabouts doubt

n t O f ﬁ w i thout the visible and ta gible veri y shes eyes , not 3 2 B I O GRA PHI CA L S KET CH

~ withstanding the ass everations o f respectable eye- w it s ” mes s es . I ’ hope , some day, to be enabled to make a year s ram

' ’ lei s ur e o w n c n a s ble , at my , over our ou try, and two year h e i . tour in E urope . T t me may never come ; bu t it has

- w i t h e and lO vel . T h e of b been m a long y dream idea eing,

cu o ff f ' ht even ' of all our earthly pilgrimag e , t , rom the sig ,

s o a f e s c and n tO an many be uti ul p rson , pla es thi g s , is

' “ u c a r f ' Bu t earnest and inq iring mind , pe uli rly mou n ul . it

t he O f r ri of c a nd is must be lot a g eat majo ty our ra e , it well that s o few are qualiﬁed by nature or cultivation t o ” feel the privation .

“ I s d s of am agreeably ituate at present , in the bo om n i the t of ature , am d limited , yet pleasan variety a rural

nd s u c I n n an fie d a omewhat r sti life . work i the g arde d l

t he b d and t b in morning , ram le through woo pas ure and y

k- i in f s t bl rds broo s de the a ternoon , tudying na ure , and O t ! t o blos s oms . Botany and rni hology w most interesting — c c s and th e f l t n s ien e birds ﬂowers , beauti u , e hereal , i no. — cent and half unearthly creatures and things and O ld a c

‘ — qu aint ances and playmates from childho od and school day

‘ . We d r f d c f s i n v time do not , my ea rien , ommune O ten

cerel a nd s im l w h O f our y p y enough it the works Creator , h r he i w eit e to art ly kno , or love , either the one or the

other ! Let u s t urn over a new leaf in - O ur lives and in

’ “ u s G od s great and wonderf l book. I wi h you would stu dy

ne t he o f s o . f l c c or other the e delight u s ien es , and we

c mu c t sc and v would mutually om ni a e our di overies , li ing

far d ff O f 'o bs ervat on so apart , our i erent ﬁelds i would prove

34 BIOGRA PHICA L S KET CH

T O T HE V IRGIN .

I see in tho usand pict ured t hings

T h ee, Mary, l hap ed so lo vi ngly

B ut none of all th i ne ima e ri n s , g b g ,

A s oft m s ou t akes lim t h e y l g pse of e .

I o nl eel t h e w orld’ s unrest y f , ,

’ S ince th en w aves o er k , me li e a d ream,

A nd a eaven unut t era l H b y blest ,

' ” t h ver Do e in my spi rit seem.

It will be kept in min d that while he app ears thus en t hu s ia st icall y given up to these pursuits , he was bearin g

a a n s i c m and up g i st that most di p riting disease , onsu ption, that the last thr ee or four years of his life passed in a very

a c u a r desultory m nner, in a onstant str ggle between desi e

He u and an inability to study. wo ld bury himself in t h e

' college and other librari es a t N ew Haven till completely ” re prostrated , and then take a ramble , or go home to ” T he s of e h cruit . more sombre portion his lett rs ave been

d d and c o avoi e as too sad melan h ly, and but one more ex

c f t . It tra t, re erring to his heal h , is made needs , however , no. apology to have spoken so Often of the health O f our

T h e of c deceas ed friend . disease the invalid be omes a

O f lf n c i part himse , his very bei g , and the labors and a h eve

n o f t h e r the - u h « me ts litera y invalid , book worn and tho g t

c t w o—f f a worn student , a quire a old interest rom the p in

ch u ht and suffering through whi they are e g out . OF T HE A UT HOR . 35

and h f I I My hand eart ail me while write . have al

a O f r esolu t ion a c ways had large share , perh ps too mu h ,

I f f a nd but eel my hold on li e very weak, growing weaker

d . I a d every ay have thrown side all stu y, all reading , only

for amu sement . I have taken all possible precautions and

t o I f I exertions regain my health , yet eel have lost

and a nd s s I I I strength ﬂesh pirit . ndeed , have no doubt have been slowly declining ever since my last collegiate

. I f t s c d a year . eel now hat my re iden e and se ent ry mode

o f f S ssenti a l I li e at the outh did me no e good . But will

not c ast too gloomy foreboding s . T h e Being wh o made i s w ill I f. able to save , to whose have long resigned mysel

I h o ed d f c c p , my kin riend and omrade , to see you on e

a O f i O f more in the l nd the living , but have little hope it diff t f m now . You would ﬁnd me somewhat eren ro what

w an d I c c you have ever kno n me , think, ould we ommune

bu t fo r s hor t hour one , you would learn better my true

I un nature than ever . But am able to write more at ” present .

T h e subject of this sketch did no t live to make a public

fe s of f c pr o sion any religious aith, but his onversations and

H e Of wr itings evince that he died a Christian . ten ex

c c O f o f t pressed his onvi tion the great truths Christiani y, and that the S avi ou r o f the world was the sole reliance l for fut u re salvation . W ith al his reading he did not neg lect the sacred volume .

But the Book which I have s tu di ed above all others is

I a ll the Bible . have read it through in the last year

c of c N ew T . mu h it , espe ially the estament, several times ‘ 36 BIO GRA PHICA L sKET CH OF T HE A U T HOR .

‘ I am surprised t hat these sublime writings are so much " c f t o believe negle ted , even by those who pro ess their

I c a f , truth . have lately read and omp red the our Gospels

’ s If c c P . A S t . u E the cts and a l s pi tles su h morals , su h a

c f h c r set “ relig ion , su h ait , hope and ha ity, were ever thus f b -l I w l k orth , so purely and su lime y, ou d like to now by w I hom , save by nspiration

ur f and r f s O riends die we bu y them amid grie and tear ,

‘ w hile the busy world around feel little sympathy and care little for our lamentations . W e become s oaccustomed to

l s I c v g this that we mourn their os n silen e , ne er taxin the

w for ; I it s o . orld sympathy t is well , perhaps , that is

T l . c c a of here is general y a private ir le , where , to spe k

and h i no u n; But their virtues t e r good deeds , is intr sio w for henever a man , distinguished rare attainment , ex t th alted wor h , great genius , adding to these e highest

n c s s c c pri iple , and the mo t expan ive harity and benevolen e , devoting his life and energy to the most exalted pursuits — c h t and purposes , whenever su h a , man dies , it is rig t o

e chronicle his virtues . H is entitledto a place in our mem ff if ories c . N . and our a e tions , only as an example S .

S acred S ong w as lent t o smg thee

P a ien rus for o l and ea s t t t t t i t r , Fruits and ﬂ oW ers divine t o bring thee

o B rne from ﬁ elds of other years . S O N GS A N D LYRICS .

A W I N I F R ED .

Fair W inifreda ! loveliest one

ha i of m h f That pp est thought love ig t rame , Thy spirit like an inner sun

S d t h f c he s through y orm elestial ﬂame , W hile in eac h motion seems to run

The c harm o f thy sweet S axon name ;

’ Kind peace and W i nni ng gentleness

“ all h c i i In t ine air , that harm d v ne

f o c an N 0 foreign av rite express,

o Lenora , Julia, R saline,

e e Cornelia, H len, Jane , Th rese

S O . S weet names, yet none sweet as thine W INIFREDA

HO W brightly by t he sOft Winds shook;

h c e s T y urling silk n tres es S wing,

~ i - l ht L ke moon ig down a pebbly brook,

’ Or wave o f bright bird s s unny W ing

t c - t B u what an match hat tender look,

' 1 More S weet t han any e arthl y t hing

How gently fromthy lips out - break

‘ o d n W e Th se mil words melti g hile th y thrl ll,

’ Wi at norn s ﬁ a Like summer nd f rst w ke,

’ O r - song - gush o e r a starry hill

‘ u S - tone s for W P re pirit , hose dear sake,

" Ye r n a S o e we au se i l. g , p to l sten stil

MA RY

of c f A type heer ul earnestness ,

O f and f i f gentle soul a th ul eyes ,

to and ‘ bles s And beauty born win ,

’ s c W ithin that pen ive musi lies,

That tells the heart its sympathies .

d f A ple ge o sinlessness and youth, An earthly form that whispers Heaven

In r i t a tless looks and v rgin tru h,

r c W In all the g a e to oman given ,

To draw us whe nc e our sin hath driven .

A glimpse o f one the heart would strain To i t s fond S elf till s elf it grew

A f c s of a e ull to soothe all p ain ,

c To look ea h greeting or adieu ,

’ And sun life s home its sojourn through .

These symbols , dear , are in thy name ,

T f c e hysel the substan e all , and mor ; W hich seeing who our c hoic e c ould blame

That name and s elf in heart W e store

’ A prize to love and ponder o er . S P R I N G S O N G .

W N O daisies grow by the grassy hills,

iv li o Co s p s through mead ws wide ,

’ f o erﬁ lls And the soul o love all Heaven ,

And songs the woodland S ide .

W ’ e ll go and see them laugh and blow ,

’ W e ll go and hear them S ing To me With thee how sweeter ﬂow

The early sweets O f S pri ng .

f rc Oh, when thy own so t vo e I hear,

HO W sweet the W ood - birds sing

c Oh , when I meet thy blue eyes lear, HO W fair the skies O f S pring !

Thy loveliness c an beautify

’ ’ W hat e er it doth o ershine

hOu rs b How blest the sunny go y,

c e. S weet maid , sin e thou art min S PRING S O NG .

’ Thy locks are like the young dove s Like watery stars thine eyes Thy lips two red c louds hovering f By the gates o evening skies .

’ t o t he 1 T hen we ll away dais ed hills,

’ And the c owslip d meadows wide

’ F of e O erﬁ lls or the soul love all H aven ,

And songs the Woodland side . S P RI N G S O N G . ,

' ‘ N O W t he young May shows herloveliest

A nd airw n d o il the aves sweet a s ,

" ' T he s i b t he ﬁ elds ar e k es are lue , green ,

“ ’ A nd merry bi rds s1ng ~ alo ft 5

’ e i O er e The ﬂow rs are c om ng th plains,

c r bi'O Oks " And the lea warbling play,

, e l o for t e S a And aﬁ d g th h happy w ins,

' " ' u t he lOn air da l Thro gh all g, f y

And blessedly c omes backto me

’ A o f gush seasons gone , ’ f f W n . b he the heart all love , loomed resh and ree As morning o ’ er the lawn

T hesed a F r nWe ays, de r lo a , whe went m Green hills and eadows by,

f s c W And the tall trees re h in the ool inds bent,

O fla u hed g in the moony sky . 46 S P RING S ONG .

v e c ed Then e ery thing n hanting seem ,

’ E c B s a h thought wore eauty dress ,

W e looked into the world and dreamed

‘ O f boundless happiness ;

o f W And plans joy and hispered sighs,

O ft id e side by s e we mad ,

A nd f c more , thy gentle a e and eyes

c . Than books or earth, onveyed

’ ‘ s a O er Those hours are gone , tho e d ys are ,

A nd se we are wi r grown,

' But bliss like that our hearts then bore,

N 0 Other days have known

f c - c S eek airest lime, ome sweetest sp ring, ’ f Gain all earth s ame or gold ,

as S till nought so blest thoughts that bring, f Those innocent hours o old . ’ T HE YOUN G S HEPHERD S S ON G.

The sweet S pring from her southern c hamber

Comes smiling bashful like a bride ;

' bre ath i s c Her balm, her lo ks are amber, A nd danc e the bright hours by her side

c f of The louds drop so t their veil shadows,

And y oung winds lead her by the hand,

And young girls beat the posied meadows, ’ f But mine s the airest of the band .

’ i blossom d ift The trees the r arms are l ing, Rocking their dear birds evermore N ft And ature every sweet is si ing,

And asks but love fo r all her store b f e My looming heart with ondness great r,

h r Holds e , my bird, my Isabel F N airer, and a—ll as kind as ature , A n d loved did she but know how well T HE YOUNG S HEPHERD S S ONG .

c c f c I mark in louds elestial a es, And eac h her visage seems to wea r 5

c In town , or ﬁeld, or desert pla es,

Her presence w ra p s ' me like the ai r 5 ’ F rO m 8 e c ea all earth blithe and beaut ous r tures,

Her s c “ mile I see, her voi e I hear, m f f t In all I eet her airy ea ures, l And ovelier still doth all app ear .

O ft when I sit, my lamblings keeping,

n c And noon sleeps o the ro ks and hills ,

’ o r c c And drowsiness e all omes reeping, I watc h with thought that never stills 5 w ’ Or hen day s amber light is westing,

O f Or by the banks starry stream ,

O n Or my bed the long night resting,

S till she is all my thought and dream .

W s f c hen hyly rom her ottage bower,

Her - c o n glan e steals me passing by,

W hat worlds untold of love and power

S eem opening from her fac e an d eye ; “ Wh m a c O, en the dear aid sh ll re eive me ,

Then merrier ditties will I sing,

' N o ha rdship through t he year shall grieve

To me will all t he - year be spring !

T HE PA RT ING .

‘ m n hO me c r And y lo e , in alm and sto m,

’ hO rs w o e rfa ll Past u shall s eet ,

u l one e f Their tho ght a spe l , and d ar orm

’ T he maste r O f them all .

e a t— ch is lot W p r su our best, n True hearts with love grow stro g,

And -lOO k to gain that garden

“ T u h sundered far an ho g j d long ,

f l —so I ee it all sad, yet true 5

Time long between will run ;

But d e shoul earth ever ke p us two ,

S Trust heaven hall make us O N E . T H T S T S E E T A L A W S O N G .

A T TH last sweet song you sung, love,

- c That old heart tou hing lay ,

O ft in my heart hath sprung , love ,

Through many a weary day, u f And s ng itsel all young , love ,

far Far, away .

c f The lasp thy ull hand gave , love ,

c This heart hath kept sin e then, f And eeling, grewmore brave , love,

It knows not how or when ,

To thee alone a slave , love .

A lord with men .

The parting tear you shed , love , My heart a pearl hath kept ; f The arewell word you said , love ,

Hath never, never slept

’ S w o ft - eet pledges o er read, love ,

And sweetly wept . 52 T HA T LA S T S W EET S O N G .

c But the tou h thy lips did lay, love ,

a i Most de r m this heart la n ,

to And the look that won stay, love, T hos e tw o no art c ould feign !

’ “ ' I ve c m t o a love And o e them all p y, ,

r N o part again . T H O S E L O O K S A N D T E A R S .

THO S E looks and tears when we did

livm f A g ount have been,

f o f A ount youth within the heart, To keep it fresh and green O ’ er life ’ s dry waste in sorest need

f fed That ount hath like rain, f f And when all ails it still shall eed ,

’ Though meet we ne er again .

c Thy gentle presen e ﬁlls mine eyes ,

Thy S pirit ﬁlls my mind 5

And my heart swells like the high wide skies , Round thee and all mankind

And higher still the nearer thee ,

E ac h holier impulse thine ; Would to thy soul one form might be W hat thou hast been to mine 6 * T T HE EE K LIS ’ T HE IN DIAN LOV E R O W O .

W EEKO LIS w W eek li , s eet o s,

Thy evening voice -I hear !

of s a nd c o The moon bird ﬂowers me ,

A nd t is planting ime near .

W eekolis S W eekolis , weet ,

O f f h Thou tellest is in streams,

W f And ild owl by the opening lakes, m But none are in y dreams .

W eekolis W eekolis , sweet ,

c m l - The hunt a e smal to day, .

The hand was weak . upon the bow , f The heart was ar away .

W eekolis t W eekolis , swee , Thou singest like my love

But S he thou art shy and so is ,

S he me o the shuns thr ugh grove . 55 T HE INDIA N LOVER T O T HE W EEKO LIS .

W eekolis W eekolis , sweet , Go by her c abin sing ; S he ’ ll list to thee though not to Dark maid—the timid thin g

W eekoli s W eekoli s , sweet , T hy heart sings happily 5

and Thy little mate is kind true , W ould I were bird like thee S O N G O N T H E P RA I R I E .

T HE Prairie ! The Prai ri e W f f here li e and love are ree ,

c And skies are lear . and earth is kind, There, there be the home for me W here the wilderness is all ablaze

W - ith its thousand blossomed green,

o f And the bright air swims with the s ong birds ,

o f And the hum bees , between .

The Prairie The Prairie W here the long bright summer hours , The west wind makes his playing ground

ﬂ o w ers And dallies with the , f The air young ﬂowers, the sinless ones , That smile and know no c are

c And he kisses dry their dewy heeks,

‘ And tosses their golden hair .

T O A YOUN G GIRL PLAYIN G IN . A N ARBOR .

T H E mellow winds are gently swinging,

Grass , bush and tree , And tender birds to heaven are singing

How blest they be

There sits a maid and swings , and sings

Old mellow airs and tender things .

The winds her long bright c urls are tossing

Like silver ﬂowers ,

‘ And gleams an d shad-es her face are crossing The blue noon hours And nature seems to love and lull

A soul so young and beautiful .

And there , perhaps , the pure one dreameth o Bright days, and l ng,

' f to And earth, and li e , her but seemeth One summer song f f The light, the song rom airer sphere

Brought with her, and remembered here . Y G G R PLA Y G ' A R 5 T O A OUN I L IN IN N A BOR . 9

S weet c hild ! I would not show the morrow

T O thee so blind 5 might I bear the load o f sorrow Thou soon must ﬁnd

‘ T ill thou in better c limes redeem

The bliss which here is but a . dream . S O N G .

T HE Sweet blue c lo ver

’ Blows o er the lea,

B s n lue kies be d over,

And whisper, Thee .

As night - dewed blossom

E t he nthralls bee , Holds thy sweet bosom M y soul with Thee .

c From asement streaming,

’ O er street and tree,

’ Those eyes they re dreaming,

- f Are they O me .

W ith stars of e ven

’ c s ee I ll ome and ,

S o f tar my heaven ,

S maiden . T weet , hee . S O N G .

T HE S k stars are in the y, love ,

f W the And the aint inds in tree,

’ And the moon goes o er the shining wave

As goes my heart to thee .

M y heart is all with thee , love,

Its thoughts are all thine O w n 5

f c . A ar or near, thy presen e dear

Like light is round me thrown .

v On the ﬁelds the shadows rest , lo e ,

f m of Like or s vanished years,

And through the c alm deep silentness S weet sounds my spirit hears .

S O f weet tones memory throng,

fa r O ff c c That s enes re all ,

c cc And thy elestial a ents rise ,

S o tenderly through all . 7 S ONG .

W They hisper to my soul , love , O f better days to be And c are and fear and grief are

W O f ! hile thinking , love, thee R E G R E T

HA D of O our day youth been one ,

Those sweet and sinless hours , W hat tender ties our hearts had spun, HO W knit their opening ﬂowers f ’ Li e s sinless hours , when hop e and love W ere all the bosom knew,

’ E re time hope s sunny web unwove ,

’ ‘ Or dried love s summer dew

A c harm had then our pathway c heered ! ’ f ’ Thro li e s drear emptiness,

One mutual heart still more endeared, W ere all else c omfortless 5

W hen c hange or death turned others c hill

Its same warm beat to hold,

’ A deep love - spring o er running still

S weet waters as O f O ld . REGRET .

— Rare bliss not ours a harder fate

O ur as s unde r paths turned ,

And long for that one miss ing mate

Each restless soul hath yearned 5 And e ac h unblest must still se arch on — Its kindred self a n vain 5

c c One han e there was, and that is gone N ever to come again

' - N S E E N T S O N G . C O O L M

S A Y a t o f com laimn , dearest, why r th u so O ten p g O f pleasures that p ass to return not again 22

’ From the loss of the O ld still new pleasures we re a g ining,

— ' ’ ‘ And relish more purely whate er m ay remai n .

’ s o r moment s are c and Our joy , like u . , ﬁ kle ﬂeeting ,

Yet we feel by their absence their value mo re dear ;

’ Could hearts that ne er part feel t he rapture o f Z’ meet ing .

W ffe c if loved not inf a 2 ere a tion so strong , it e r

How f e c e all earthly treasures the ond r we h rish,

’ S O f t e f So c rail when h y re airest, ertain to go Bu t they leave purer joys on the dust W here they

perish,

" Green memories t here cluster and hopes freshly w blo . CO N S O LEMEN T . 67

’ W c ou r f ere our wishes ne er rossed , were riends

ever round us ,

‘ Had enjoyment no death and aﬁ lict i on no birth

’ The spirit would tire ne ath the dull c hain that

bound us,

c e if f Ah, ould love look to h aven it lost not rom earth 12

W of oes remembered are joys , and the night hour sorrow S heds sweet dews, reﬁning the heart where they fall

’ f n f Then we ll learn rom the past, and i aith wait the

morrow, M f o f . ake most the present, and draw good rom all T O

“ ” How soon a lo ill r n t u ve w p i t a ho ght t hat never may remove . r l E a S urr ey.

W HEN thy bashful eyes ﬁrst bended

c c o f Inno en e g aze on mine , Gleams of higher life desc ended,

c And the world be ame divine .

Hope with knowledge past united ,

All that youth and beauty tell ,

s And the young oul saw, delighted , E arth a mystic sign and spell .

n in Countena c e beauty dreaming , f f e S o t eyes hung with ring d shroud,

Like the watery sunset streaming ,

Through the fringe o f evening c loud . T O 6 9

’ S ummer winds o er ﬂower - banks blowing,

‘ o f t h hai r Brought the wavings y ,

l . Form and gesture nob y showing, W k hat the loo immortals wear .

M e aid n mild , and yet so queenly

W ord and act so well bec ame ! l In thy spirit dwe t serenely ,

Con ﬁdenc e and m aiden shame .

unsu r ri sm Like none else, yet p g S hone the look thy features wore

S eemed the soul but rec O gn l zmg S f omething known and loved be ore .

—a One sweet meeting long s inc e is it ! How hath proved the world to thee Q

“ Could ” thy young soul then fo revisit W hat its after days should be

t Hath thy gentle spiri beauteous, Found new love and w edded rest 9

Dwells it loving still and duteous, 2" In the heme its presenc e blest T O

’ : S th ﬁ l; tands y hope s fair a rchi tectu re. C

’ Is it c rushed and lying low S o asks vainly fond conj ecture,

' o i v the t o k And w uld g e _ world now

S hap e o f light whose spell hath lorded

’ m a v s u O er y c pti e o l so long,

Could the memories vt here rec orded

Be recorded in my song

t e i t Ah the ales thy sw et l ps ven ured, In my ea r may told

1c e t d But my heart their mus n ere , W ith enc hantments manifold ;

~ And t hy slow tears s hed at leaving i hf Did thy w s ul thoughts reveal ,

i c ri e vm Resignat on almly g g ,

Loss no other love might heal .

us Though I knew we then m t sever,

mi i ht . T hat thou never ne m g be , f Yet ﬂows li e more lovely ever,

- f - In the bliss it c aught rom t hbe . L A M EN T

! ’ YOU G vc imof s oiler s dart N i t the p ,

' W ith c easeless grief I pine f n r The sha t went through thy te de heart, ’ f But ah ! twas le t in mine .

of of I think thee, I think thee ,

- a In many pensive hour, W hen bac kward thought goes wandering ’ E Through memory s den bower .

I think o f thee when fresh new S pring

L -s f the s i nin augh rom h g sky ,

on t he And merry birds are wing,

And gentle g aIes blow by .

f I think o thee when dark woods moan ,

And winds wail round the door 5 S o dreary pines the heart all lone ,

F or those who c ome no more 3 ‘ 72 LA MEN T .

Ilthink o f thee when silent sh ows

' F l t r tr s al h ough the win y q ,

And deep the S tillnes s o f repose

‘ On every t hing doth. lie . .

’ f e w n e l s I think o the he ev s, p a e tar Drops softly dow n t he West .

' S 6 c home afar almly to thy ,

“ " Thy spirit sankt o rest:

k o f r a s I thin thee in blessed d e m ,

~ W hen the moon loo ks on t he h1ll

c f s rea I hear thy voi e in the alling t ms,

W i r hen the n ghtly winds a e still .

t h c air I hear y voi e in the starry ,

’ ' a s w eet st r l a r, Like an ngel s f an,

k d t he s ounds o f e th Till wa e by a ar and

T o toil an d grieve aga1n .

’ " Farewell ! farewell ! I ll thi nk o f thee, 1

” And my d ark. path travel

' m t a k be W n T s land . o ill yf done,

“ W “ , ne e s here thou, loved o , art gen ;

74 BE MY G V T HE MO U N T A I R RA E ON N s B EA S T .

’ S o make my bed on the mountain s breast,

There sweet shall be my sleeping ,

’ W c ith the stars, kind wat hers , o er my rest,

’ n In Heaven s own holy keepi g . 3 P N A T H A N H A E . O D E T O C A T . L

L his f d FUL stern was doom , but ull ﬁrmly he die ,

N o f uneral or bier they made him ,

N ot n a ki d eye wept, nor a warm heart sighed ,

’ O r e the spot all unknown where they laid him .

’ c c In Freedom s ause at her earliest all ,

o f f To the ﬁeld stri e he hasted ,

fo r ff And dared her sake , and su ered all ,

’ E en her bitterest draught he tasted .

one lz e c fo r But f , my ountry , to give thee W a s the last the high spirit hath spoken

n Breathi g that deep wish so earnestly , A nd its earthly bonds were broken

f o f He ell in the spring his early prime, W ith his fair hopes all around him

’ for - c He died his birth land , a glorious rime ,

Ere the palm of his fame had c rowned him . 76 D . O E T o CA PT . NA T HA N HA LE

— He fell in her darkness he lived not to see

The mom o f her risen glory 5

But the name o f the brave in the hearts o f the

S hall be twined with her deathless story . O D E T O S L E E P

’ ’ Yw odaua g (Mar); Ym/s 6 aky8wv Evans mu ! s hears

Eva t w v sva t wv a vaf. K . r . A .

P hi lo ct . S op h .

S PIRIT mild o f mystic slumber

N ow with wizard spell lay by

c c Galling ares and loads that umber,

S oothing sense and sealing eye .

Come in blue and starry mantle ,

W t h - f W l n ave y downy eathered g , W f ave with tou c h all so t and gentle ,

’ ’ O er the world s eac h living thing .

Brains with thought in hot beat throbbing,

Lids by light long ﬁlled and pained ,

’ H o er come earts with joy or sobbing ,

’ N - r r n erves unstrung or toil o e st ai ed . 8 ! i! O DE T o SLEEP .

o f Come with lull brooklets ﬂowing ,

o f a Or lone break dist nt seas ,

- - fa r d Rain drops , wind sighs, her s lowing,

Lisping leaves or humming bee s .

ce of n Come with s nt piny highla ds, Or balm groves o f spi c y zone

o f Come with breath ﬂowery islands,

W henc e the evening winds have blown .

Come with raven hair ri c h braiden

’ From t he moonshine s watery beams ;

c c - Hush my ou h , sky hovering maiden S ing me all thy happiest dreams .

Dreams thro ugh c loudy gateways fading

c m To a high and beauteous li e ,

I Dazzling vi s t as faint fo res h ading

S c s c o f enes beyond the enes time .

For to thy sweet hand are given

o f All the treasures the night,

Keys that op e the gates o f heaven

- On the wearied earth worn sight . 7 9 O DE T O S LEEP .

’ ’ - Come , day s bed with ﬂowers o er strewing ,

E ~ d W hile thick dusk the ast lan ﬁlls,

’ ’ - S tay , till morn s young breath o er blowing , W ake to life the warbling hills :

r ! From the Orient , ti eless rover V ’ eiled behind the shadow d sun ,

Thou long realms hast wandered over ,

And their daily tasks are done .

Houseless bands in deserts tenting,

Me n c ot in or bustling town ,

Prayerless, or the past repenting ,

V c exed or alm , have laid them down .

Thou hast walked the prin c ely palac e

F c east and dan e and bridal train ,

’ S c c weetened sorrow s bitter hali e , f S oothed the bed o r limbs o f pain .

S f c tilled gay eet in revel hamber,

W on f c s f air reature rom their play ,

c Birds, that wing or beasts that lamber , f Air or steep as ree as they . O DE T O S LEEP;

’ r Thou hast roamed o er savage idges ,

’ W n . s s here g reat stream their we ll inur ,

’ c - Listening, pa ed earth s outmost edges,

o . Lones me , where no hearths upburn

’ l c c B essings thine rea h all God s reatures,

H o r t a -e igh humble , wild or m

S f F c f hi tless ortune hanges eatures , F Thou , sweet riend art still the same .

O f e c ! Dove p a e pure virtue serving ,

Bride unwooed O f sinless heart !

’ ‘ N e er may bosom undeserving , Buy with gold or win from art 1

S T RA W BERRY S ONG .

W f ith berries our baskets are ull ,

’ And our burden tis pleasure to bear ;

c c To the hot day the dust ometh ool ,

f W f And the resh inds give li e to the air . S ! ing, sisters as homeward we wend A nd f our merry eet keep the way ,

S oon our toil the danc e round our c abins shall end

c e - For the lu k we hav had to day . ’ ROAD S ON G OF EART H S T RAVELERS .

W E are marching on we are marc hing on

l t c c The paths our o or hoi e hath drawn , W f ith Truth behind and Trust be ore ,

’ And Pain beneath , but Promise o er .

f f c S tern oes , air tempters on ea h side ,

W Yet shield without and strength ithin ,

f f f u nt erriﬁ e d And aith ul riends , —W Right, wise to rule ill , strong to win .

W e are toiling on we are toiling on ,

T O rest with dark , and start with dawn ,

Down smooth green vales , up mountains ’ f O er shi ting Land and stormy Deep .

Though dark the wave , and hard the way, ’ Twill better keep in mind the goal

’ O er gloomy nights dawns brighter day, f From sterner stri e grows stronger soul . R OA D S ONG .

On to the tomb On to the tomb W e’ here all ﬁnd rest and , still ther s room

’ ’ W c fo r e ll bear ea h other s loads, we

N f . eighbors at death, through li e should be

S O f shall our way are easier hold,

M for c o for ore long pea e , m re short pain f S weet kindness yields an hundred old ,

W ith blessings sown and reaped again .

W e c ome no more ! we come no more ! W e seek our lost ones gone before

W a e f hen all r ound what need we here , To love in grief and hope in fear ! S ome better home must be,to keep

’ oft Things whispered the spirit s ear, W here souls rejoined their promise reap ,

S e e every earthly mystery c lear .

f ’ Though near shuts down li e s narrow sky , Broad lands we know beyond must lie ’ f Though blank and dim in Day s ull glare ,

Fair worlds o f light are shining there . ’ E B S O N GS O F T H L A O R E R S .

' ‘ ” ‘ omo Sum ihil humani a me alien ut o - H , n ump . T er e1tce.

' “ I ama n i n m n t ake a art mh , a I p ,

‘ " T h e good of man is ever next my heart

UGHMA N S S O G T HE IDLO f N .

owth e u in n N b dd g woods grow green arou d ,

the s n And ﬁeld grow gree below,

N ew ce a f m t n voi s w ke rom the el i g ground,

And the fai r S kies freshly blow

T he bi ri f e r w mt r dr m rds a se rom th i y ea ,

’ A nd a r e we ll ﬁeld , my Jolly b isk t am,

’ o ur o b T is tune that w rk egun .

T he c - u ds O we a rop gro n ver tug long,

E re t he un o n th e -t o S hill p stands,

' ‘ d st ron w ew o u r Son And stur y and g histle g, l n ’ A nd stri ke out the ong straight lads . 9 S ONGS O F T HE LA BORERS .

HO W smooth the op enmg furrows run

’ And the warm ric h light . c omes down

N O balk or stay fo r stump or stone,

Till the evening trees look brow n .

“ E c c wi a h turn the bla k stripes der grow, d f And the green lan s narrow ast 5,

’ S m S ! a nd b d- train the bea , tout team en the

' Brave working i s S O On eSt past

’ W e ll bait at noon with r est and feed

’ ' There splenty in mow and stall

Ye S hall not lac k a friend at need

’ As ye ve been t o me t hrough all“

t c ut m s Hard , oil we the tee ing pring,

t o f k And trust riendly s ies, To shelter and nursew ith their rainy wing

“ ‘ W hen the St aff oflife S hall r1s e

. ’

' ' S ee h ow ow Oes o- the s ad y sh er g ver the hills, f i O ne S ; , u s ide to the ll bright _un,

“ And her nu rseling s earth with sweet food

. How theydrink and smile each c ne T S ONGS OF HE LA BORERS . 87

, is c The gold we dig the golden orn,

lou h a s hare m n Bright p g our ini g spade,

" f - c A ull stored rib our Plenty s horn ,

' A nd suc h is ou r task and trade

B the o f r w y sweat our b o we gain our bread, Grudge l ords nor wealth nor land

“ Would that for man eac h wiser head

a r Toiled s well as e ti hardstrong hand .

A K S O N G O F T HE HA YM ERS .

C s — e M ow er — M ew F ir s t hor u , t h s [ !

N ow stoutly lay the shining s cythe Alon g the grassy sea The meadow larks are singing blithe

Above the morning lea .

W e Our blades ﬂing with whistling swing,

nd t he low A tall green grass drops ,

w And thi ck behind the s aths we string,

S o bravely on we g o ! ' S O N GS O E T HE LA BORERS .

now hef ﬁ eld we And t doth narro r seem,

’ ! w i ~ail be ow p age T il d n by , ;

’ How little did t he young ﬂowers dream~

T hat they must fall S O soon

' S ee far and near t he grass li es s er e,

And withering strown t he ﬂ o w ers

’ S o ife a ft er e ar ‘ Time mows l ye r a y ,

S 0 fall it s hap pier hours :

- S econd Ckom s , t ke

W e s hake the dewy heaps and strow The locks to the sun and air 5

‘ f - w Around us warm the so t inds ﬂow, The weather how fresh and fair

’ Through the sunny day we ll make the

S O o toss it brisk and str ng , And full of glee our hearts shall be

As the grasshoppers in song .

ir d C oru — t T h h s B a h.

N O W - z t the noon bla e bea s, and the loc usts sc ream

S r f the s h ill rom windle s trees,

f c s n And the zigzag en e swelteri g gleam ,

S k And the bright y rings with bees .

S ON GS O F T HE LA B ORERS .

— raft!. Chews the P it chers.

“ O u r f r we S c n o ks ply , nor slow. nor a t,

‘

- The round heap s u p - w e throw m And see, like so e huge elephant, f The ull wain waddlinggo .

W o ur we ith many a load barns are sto d,

A nd c i h c - l our sta ks r se t i k and tal ,

N ow ﬁ n al - h1s c u t o the one rown p s n, ’ And now tis e vening - fall .

“ ' T he 1s ki s n day gone, our wor do e ,

, N ow or we may sing p lay ,

And rest us till another S un

ac Comes b k his summer way .

- i r a d f t he s w Let w nte blow, n all no ,

“ O r drivethe Wind and ram

O u r snug - stalled herds fo r food may

‘ And shall not l ow in vain . S G E ON S OF T H LA BORERS . 9 1

S O N G O F T HE REA PERS .

A ﬁ eld r — a , b isk swain , the h rvest plain W aves yellow loc ks for the reaping

s iii s h O The lark g s rill , and ver the hill f The eye o mom is peeping .

bt Up up nor lag, with o tle and bag,

“ - ur S And our reap hooks on o houlder,

W ’ ' it c dew e ll trudge through the hilly ,

’ - And c are not an twere c older .

In c t he the new ool day, while west winds play

’ W - d S e ll work till the noon ti e welter,

W t he c c Then by shady spring, hile ri kets sing,

’ ' ’ W t he w oodland s S . e ll rest in , helter

’ o f O er wastes and ﬂood on plains blood , Let men reap gold or laurel f Our wealth is the yield o the harvest ﬁeld ,

N or bought by wou nd or quarrel .

Br ight sickles are the swords we wear, — The march our jolly bustling,

o f f Our ﬁelds o f arms the ﬁelds our arms,

— - And their shocks our sheaf shocks rustling . S ON GS O F T HE LA BO RERS .

Our triumph - c ar O f well Waged W ar

Is the wain that laboring trundles,

W ith the golden s poil p f our glorious

n To our temple ric h i bundles .

' en c o me br1sk w ar st a Th , s am , the h ve pl in

it s w c fo r i n Bends _ yello lo ks the reap g!

' The lark pipes shrill , and over the hill

T e of is ee 1n ! h eye morn p p g ,

RN K ’ S O G CO HU S ER S N .

A uld Lang

“ N O W ds c n , la , draw round the big or ring,

“ ’ A nd"f ch O -u r i rls et y zg so gay ,

A nd o k and ' l i we will w r , we wil s ng,

" And sing t he time away .

C H O R U S .

' ’ ' ' mk of s . l W e ll si ng and th thi our g ee ,

F ld S rie or Au Lang y ,

‘ “ W hen many an afte r year comes round,

‘ n S For Au ld La g yne .

A B S ONGS O F T HE L ORERS .

— n l fa They ﬂy like snow a d swel ing ir,

f T he c yellow orn heap gleams, W hile wake Ou r songs the s ilver air

f r Out rom its glimmering d eams .

’ ' ll o u r c heer And soon we end, and give ,

mr And draw a e rier ring,

- ki d S ing songs , tell tales , and ss our ear More happy than a king!

CH O RU S .

HE ILLER’ S S O N G T M .

W u c t he. w n ith headlong bo nd , omes ater dow ,

c e “ In its noisy and re kl ss play ,

A n d W s the tall heel ﬂings out his arm like wings ,

And stoutly he toils away .

N o w n high , now low , his broad ha ds go,

‘ As they c atch up the tumbling wave

‘ f f —he he s a It oams and it rets groans and we ts ,

’ Man s brawny and p atient slave . S ONGS O F T HE LA BORERS .

rs h s w k n And hoa e within, i or me din

l n meas u r ed ' W a s I their wild yet y ,

c n W i i Up, ross, and rou d , th a bo sterous sound , Theirmaster each one obeys .

ll ke d c i l In its dizzy whirl a an ing g r ,

S e e bu rri n s t on e u d the g spins ro n ,

f few h And ast though , the grams drop throug , T he bright heap soon is ground

S o h t day and nig t, wi h tireless might , m ’ The aster he s grinding on , ’ s un a d c a nd Thro n storm , in old warm ,

Tilt his aged strength is gone .

B his f y sweat ree shed , he earns his brea d ,

W hi c h other mouths must ﬁll 5

no He asks meed, he has no need ,

A nd he drudges and drudges still .

’ S o fe night and day, li s organs play, And the labo rmg pulses bound 5

S O i t s c he - on to lose , t heart stream ﬂows,

’ f s w And rolls li e heels around . '

- 96 . S S F T HE B H S . ONG O e LA O ER

A nl , ime d th st and iw ith la m , o 5 g ss , hand, 5

’ S O ﬂeeting it s bright sandsf run

” t e et h y pass, y

' “ IS out l f i s don e , and our i e

Then like our - d uties still _

” us l t O u r ta Sha end Let p y ill sk ll ,

N or s s elfi a ins our t i an d ains eek by. o l p , g: x

But W Orld o ur f . a bettered , riend

~ ' ‘ T he ter heart w hich i each a t mas , f st rs i p r ,

’

‘ ‘ May the s p 1r1t 0f ki ndness move 5

k r h r fr l t O ur i m ulse Li e the b ig t st eam ee e . p

' The gushi ng - c fhuman love

LYRE O F T HE OLDEN T IME .

RES P O N S E.

S - S W The pring ripe ﬂower grows weetest, hitest,

Its time all youth , then drops away 5 u And early heart bears b rden lightest,

’ f c . Li e s prime , without its sad de ay

IDLE ES N S .

EE f f fr K N rost ull soon the dull stream eezeth,

And weeds unworn wastes mould or moth ;

S O S f O ld s ei zeth the low oot age ﬁrst ,

c anke reth S And thought in sluggish loth .

Time when most used the longer stayeth,

- And time most spent the faster ﬂ ees 5

Rest to unrest the soul bewrayeth,

’ c But the mind s a tion works its ease . LYRE OF T HE OLDEN T IME . 99

HIDDEN GRIEF .

T HE - rose pent worm the blossom eateth ,

Rust on the steel its nurse doth prey 5

S O c c s ec ret et h pines the heart whi h are ,

S O sadness will its keeper slay .

f c c c The ountain when e no lear stream reepeth, f Is but a stagnant pool , or roze ,

And the poor heart no tear that weepeth ,

Hath naught to wash away its woes .

o f f S O w n The dew grie heds its healing,

Drained from the soul to give it rest ;

’ S S f orrowing is sorrow s weetest eeling,

E i n ven its sharpest anguish, blest . A V O I C E T O T H E Y O U N G .

' ” irt i i . Mact e, nova v ut e, p uer : s c t ur ad ast ra

’ G m n if YOUN a on l e s highway p arting, N eeds faithful guide and friend t hy soul ?

W c c eigh then well thy hoi e at starting,

e f But ver most thysel and goal .

h s ch T ousand paths tret round to lure you , — E c . t he a h best, best walked all ﬁnd end

E c f a h the great have trod be ore you , — Onc e young your steps to cheer a nd mend .

e Keep a heart still pur and holy,

Above all earthly treasures best 5 ! Pure heart whic h o f all things solely Can fear no ill and ﬁ nd true rest

A VO ICE T O T HE YOUNG .

Rising stay, your nation raising, Vanguard and trust O f c oming years 5

’ S ee , in long dim lines they re gazing, 0 , turn not all their trust to tears

c n Things sublime your soul are alli g, — High spheres, ric h crowns all yours

S O n t f Charge great betray o , alling — To wed the earth and gain its S i n .

o f F In the vineyard your ather ,

‘ Last l aborer , most your need may

All time aids your toil , then gather

The fruits of immortality .

’ Man , God s noblest work to render

S u f till worthier God , be tho still ound 5

f S And to view His uller plendor ,

t h W Await ybliss here thou art bound . F A I T H .

“ A H emans . Faith t ouching all t hings w it h h ues of Heaven .

A T F I H , the end and the beginning ,

’ O f all knowledge neath the sun 5

h c an All that eart give , though winning,

M n a must rest in thee when done .

Higher truths lie still beyond us ,

’ Thought ne er reac hed nor tongue hath told 5

Faith makes plain the dark and wondrous,

N ew things ﬁnding in the old .

u Highest things must be mysterio s,

Bound the wisdom o f the wise 5 But the earnest soul and serious

W c here it may not rea h, relies 1 04 T FA I H .

F eels e the highest still the sur st, Measure whenc e all else is shown 5

c Finds the tea hings sweetest, purest,

W F I - t . hispered aith , n thy love one

’ Prophet, thou , on Time s last mountains, W henc e eternal things are seen

W c - ﬂ ow f hen e out those living ountains ,

" ‘ ‘ Making this ble ak w orld so green .

c Calm Assuran e , strong yet lowly ,

S c o f a n d our e thought deed sublime,

' t h e ble St Bringing down and holy, Rising over Death and Time

’ e Light to Learning s labor d blindness , f Cheer ul strength to doubt and toil ,

W O f armth sympathy and kindness ,

’ Breeze o f Peac e to life s turmoil

- Childlike trust and heart expansion ,

Blooming Love fo r all mankind Till the new soul grows a mansion

F S o f i or all loveliest hapes m nd .

C H A R I T Y

ME S o f f CO , pirit the lo tiest c reed From God revealed to suffering man 5

Friend to our every ail and need ,

E c . a h purest wish , and noblest plan

n c Her tender ha d best heals ea h wound ,

c S By sin, or pier ing orrow given ,

f c f Doth li t the wret hed rom the ground ,

And win the wanderer back to heaven .

’ C G S k Her soul lasps all like od s bright y,

’ O er - breathing life and beauty warm ;

All hope and blessedness her eye ,

c All light and pea e her angel form .

W f c ith kind reproo in truth sin ere ,

S he c c c he ks, redeems her erring hild 5 f And in the smile her eatures wear,

' r re All warring hearts g ow conc iled . CHA RIT Y . 107

S in Hates , yet loves the sinner still

c c Forgiveness, gra e, her vengean e all 5

Till sweet as spring, repentanc e ﬁll m f Hearts hu bler , holier rom their fall .

W ’ W f e re anderers all rom Right and Truth , By doubt and passion drawn astray 5

And pay with sadness, pain , and ruth ,

The hours we left the heavenly way .

’ W w o e re brethren joined in weal or ,

Our bane to hate , our bliss to love 5

W e c f ﬁnd one ommon ate below,

W e seek one c ommon home above .

— of Be thine her wisdom , wealth soul ,

' To feel all life hath felt or known 5 W hich ﬁnds its wants within the whole ,

’ A n d makes all others joys its own .

S O God and Man shall ﬁll thy heart, And earth a new c reation rise ;

’ f o f Thou lt reac h the airest dream art,

’ And hope s full longings realize . K N N E I D S S .

S W EET c kindness des ends like the warm summer rain , ,

On the heart where cold reason ap p ealet h in vain

c an f It so ten the hard, make the good better still , W ' hile harshness and c oldness the best turn to ill .

All may not ﬁnd wealth , but its joys all may ﬁnd 5

c n c an All an ot be greatest, yet all be kind

S c weet kindness how easy , what onquest it wins,

Its thought meets our death - bed and pleads for

sins .

Its language all know, and it goes to the heart, .

o f N 0 learning it needeth , no labor art ;

of e Like the sweet breath heaven all bounti s it brings, f ’ f ’ O praise that li e s best are li e s commonest things .

E T ERN A L S p ring- O f j Oy r and beauty

‘ " ' Fi rst T eaCIier of all truth an d - duty,

’ God s S mil e and holiest name

nm a f c ed f In thee the Op e gfhe rt per e t ,

“ ‘ f n ew b ooml n s S ees li e l g ri e ,

And everyzfairest: formreﬂ eet ed

F rom gloribu s earth and Skies.

In thee all blest things ﬁnd c ompleteness, ‘ F t C ai h, Hope and harity 5

f a s o f Imm ft al e The oret ste _ o sw etness,

“ A nd d r t splen o vas t to he .

‘ A S tho-u ce t imand e son ll unlike, , s pa , e s a

Dost blend one . beaut eous. w hole

h ar m t he of re n T ine gu ents bloom aso ,

T h o f f ypr o s, the ruit O f soul LOVE . 1 1 1

E k l arth nows no wea th, no true enjoyment, But from thy fountain ﬂows 5

' ‘ A nd w o and hai d m o m want, and e pl y ent

W ith thee a ll lighter grows .

E for e n dles s ach soul good is yearning,

Than aug ht it ﬁnds more sure ;

k alt B r Thy promise eeps its ar u ning,

' S till st rengthening to endure .

i To every heart t hy voic e is . S ing ng

S S e 4 ome we t Celestial tone 5

" W ith gentlest imp ulse n earer bringing ” - — O n to th Eternal T hrone .

’ f n Then reign, our sp irit s master eeli g,

' Make all more p u re 3and blest

’ All wisdom s in thy high revealing,

- l All riches n thy rest . F R E ED O M .

T of lOn m O HOU g istaken name ,

’ ‘ M e s nd ride an s high t heritage a p ,

' ’ W hic h oft the falsehavebrou ght to shame , For whic h the true haVe toiled and died

c L However alled , Right, iberty

! W e " Celestial born worship thee .

men for a n e Brave thee h ve obly b l d,

' the n e all u nknown And , their gu st, wert , 5

T h oft c fed y hope hath the wret hed ,

W ho b S or r , lest, had laves tyrants g own 5

W c f a e hile trea herous riends h ve made the thrall ,

Most meanly tyrannous o f all .

‘ i c t h c f Yea, arms wh h ﬁrst y ause de ended ,

' Have turned the ﬁrst to w ound or slay ; Tongues whose bold speec h so well befriended

Grew still , or spoke but to betray 5

f o far And hearts that oll wed long and ,

M i t isdeemed thy light a sett ng s ar .

1 14 FREEDOM .

' a f ch , . S O O t Great te ers though , disputed

By darkened he arts whose gold w a s dross

N s hunn e or eglected , df persecuted,

W h a of c ﬁ re : Or c ro s : it l sh hate hains, , S 5

- - - e t 0 er n n l Down trodd n , ye mou ti g stil

“ ' T hose who might c rush but - c ould not kill .

’ S till may suc h inSp i ratiomﬁ nd

e c a In som Choi e he rts an altar pure ,

’ Till man s vast soul that long hath pined r A n 11 , a c c 5 ex e re h its home se u e ,

od F o re al n Its G , its reed m lost g ,

- : T he joy o f truth wi t bent. its pain ”

S CRIP T U RE P IECE S .

A T O F T HE F R S O D E H I T B R N .

CRY E ni c m was in gypt, a wild mid ght s rea ,

' a r f m And the king st rted up , and his lo ds ro their

a dre m ,

A nd the pr1ests and the people woke ghastly with

dread ,

E c h mi c . a h ousehold was s tten , ea h home had its dead

t he o f the d In deep hour slumber, through all broa land, W ent deat h like a shadow; pale plague in his hand

W h f s r ld it ootstep unheard eve y thresho he passed,

the e hi s ch t And sle p tou deepened , tha sleep was the

last . 11 6 DEA T H OF T HE FIRS T B O RN .

— n f o And all the wide la d was a uneral that m rn ,

W here pa rents sat wa11ing their earliest born ;

e e At evening how lulled they thos ey s to repose , — The morning hath c ome they S hall never unclose .

’ , T e m. h babe hung , like snow on the mother s war

breast,

N r hi S ft the f its o b eat ng stirred o ly robe rom rest,

f f C d c dl did And the ac e o the hil in its ra e lie , But p ulseless and ﬁ xed ' as the Star in the S ky

c e r f The ﬂo ks ris up ea ly rom valley and hill ,

’ ‘ B ut c e1 eanin s the s ared dams bleat restless, th r y g are S till

W e f bre at ed .had - r n her ver li e h the pest ar ow stu g,

r w d And the full heart o f grief O ve ﬂ o e every ton gue .

o f in For the soul Jehovah was kindled wrath,

" ' A nd the sc ourge swept like ﬁre on its terrible path ;

’ ’ The Oppressor s proud ~ heart fell subdued neath the

rod , ’ A nd the oppressed - went forth in the light of the 1r

’ ES T RUCT A RA D ION OF PH OH S HOS T .

D aTk E aw ' and gypt s , drave

W C i e men ith har ot, steed , and arm d

_ c Hard through the path the mighty lave ,

Like raging lions to their den .

Then looked forth from his ﬁery veil a The Lord, and smote th t proud host through 5 f Their hearts turned aint , their looks grew pale,

’ A nd the1r clogg d wheels heavily drew .

N S ow Israel gained the hore,

’ Then ' stretc hed his rod their leader s h and 5

’ ’ a a r And the se s heart hear d with sullen oar , A nd his troubled vict ims whelming spa nned

' and fell Horses and horsemen plunged ,

’ ‘ T hen sunk like lead in the mi ghty S e a 5

r w as t he Their c y lost in stormy swell , f w f e And tbs faith ul ones ere r e . DESCRIPT IVE AN D MEDITATIVE POEMS .

V N V I ES O F UT U N E EN I G O C A M .

T HE S un hah c , t rossed yon . steep gray mountain And ‘ left in mourning all the plain

l o f r f Air ulls, no sound bi d or ountain , A nd ye begin your solemn strai n

' O N E rave voi ce‘ r h A , g , as earth we e olding

In soul some deep S oliloquy 5 t f Or, sunk to res , her veiled arms olding, W orshipped and sang h er Deity .

M c — o f S ysterious hant the dirge ummer,

’ l o er f t Through ﬁe d, hill , rom woodland all 5

t he S And listening heart beats low and dumber, A nd thought broods o ’ er it like a pall 120 EVENING VOICES OF A UT UMN .

Thought o f the thousand seasons numbered

’ By that deep tongue S mysterious tone 5

O f f u human orms that woke and sl mbered , ,

O f sec rets long ere man was known

O f what through dim ye ars S prung and faded; W hen life was new and t ime was young ;

’ W c S hat hange neath starry skies or haded ,

’ W c c . ith hangeless spee h , lone ones, ye ve sung

’ ’ And still night s watches lo ng ye re making

- That same vague chant of mournful theme

An annual hymn o f Time out - breaking From old Eternity ’ s mute dream

Like voi ces orac ling from unde r . c of The sacred hambers the ground , In the ear o f stars entranc ed in wonder

‘ f W hat tongues their sister S phere hath ound .

S e It seems all buried things are pok n ,

f r o n Past, utu e blend, th ught wo ders how ;

o f r and are o T he seals bi th death br ken,

And all time grows one pulseless N ow.

T O A F LOW E R IN A S OLITA RY PLACE.

w r U- e rt THO standest i n th dese ground , s eet ﬂowe ,

Hard by this stripe O f anc ient wood 5

i . Doing thy task and living out th ne hour,

n ' hermit ! You g , gay in solitude

w d Lorn as some c astaway on island il ,

Lone as in hea ven a single star

W o t f c ith j y I greet hee like a air lost hild,

f h n f r W andered rom ome and pare ts a .

' ’ kindred ﬂ o w ret s l a N o near, no gent e m te

d t hee lis in s Ben s to e p g tenderest thing ;

The wilderness spread round thee desolate .

i i r n Yet sweet comp an ensh p it b i gs . — Vicissitude O f peac e low singings Come

a From minstrels in the w rm, bright grass ;

' S oft in thy charmed ear the wild bees hu m

W i b t . All day , and mild nds y hee p ass T . 3 T O A FLOW ER IN A SOLI ARY PLA CE . 21

’ A n f c d skies stoop o er thee with as loving a e ,

‘ f And eed with light and dews as kind ,

f ‘ a As thy air sisters nursed in gilded v se ,

“ - h In green ouse , or in garden shrined .

b da t f Thine eyes y y look up as rust ully,

’ A n d fold at t night heir lids to sleep ,

o £ and In Him the Parent good them thee ,

and . Him who created , will keep

at a nd i And , when thy summer d e toil s done ,

dro est t he c Thou p p on dank , old plain

N ight voic es hymn thy dirge at - set of sun, n Low telling thou shalt rise agai .

h c f m i And en e , ree oving, th nking Man may know, W ’ ' hat or where e er his lot is thrown ,

N 0 s but c an e u spot so wa te som bea ty show, o ea m ” N o heart s dr r but holds so e joy its own .

ac Te h him thy earthly lord , sweet ﬂower

f c aim To eel his sour e , , end divine

nd f fu h r A ﬁll as aith lly his ighe sphere,

ﬁ llest i As , lowly one , thou th ne . T HE E S E T E D D W E I D R LL N G.

A CRos s ~ the western uplands W ild

n c c I wandered o e , a wayward hild,

’ E re browh while o er glade and woodland , The dusk o f s ober e ve c ame down ;

S all auntering and humming the way , W hat rare bright ﬂowers my steps did stay ,

E ‘ f b t h h lse , ree as lew e arvest breeze From posied knolls and grassy leas

s s o Till through the hrubby wold wide ,

A single house I spied .

si e s The man on look d so trang e and lorn ,

S o lifeless . mute h - , , and wea t er worn ,

th c It suited well at lonely pla e ,

’ Far more than childhood s heart or fac e

' ' ’ W ith curiou s stealth I vent u red o er

t he The threshold, through swinging door,

T ‘ W ELL G 1 26 THE DE S ER ED D IN ?

’

and And warbled ou t so blithe clear,

' It was a name less c harm to hear

s n et t e Plea a t, y star ling brak the sound

“ Like laugh in burial ground .

f n f c e I thought o ki dred a es d ar,

W o c d h met, ommune , and mingled here ,

Sw eet c hildren, forms whose d aily fe et Played round these ﬂoors with busy’ beat

aw —PI e d r I . s them pass h ar their t ead ,

I S s S s of be fled hape , shadows , _ ound ings

lo n t W here dwell they now w wi ds may ell,

' And soon their memories speak as well

“ ’ — t cr I mused and , weighed with sadness, ept

T he and e . entry through , w pt

“ c I thought, so the rushed heart and lone

W o f e ill keep s me joy, some orm r tone ,

r f h c it Tclin Dea hopes, ond t oughts whi h round g ,

* - - r o f its earl s rin Like song bi ds y p g , Love m essengers o f Heaven that come

’ for To tenant tune s ruined home ,

c da r s o f To s are rk hove ing wing ill ,

nd t A keep it pure and holy s ill ,

“ W hen all else leave t hefriendless spot

F orsaken and forgot ; T HE ES ERT E DW E D D LLING . 1 27

— I wandered home the c ool night fell Rosemary ﬁelds shed balmy smell

From pastures rose the solemn c hurm

O f insects : shone the winged worm The pale moon o ’ er the meadow stood T he whippowill woke from the wood

’ f mid - w E Looked rom est ve s pensive star, And spake of things unseen and far ;

W hile rushed from all the W 1zard sc ene

’ Vague thoughts o f all that s been ;

c I slowly rea hed my own loved door,

And on my heart the sad thought bore ,

' O u r me et s u ch f household , too, must ate ,

1 o be - Go, and their h use desolate

c Yet something ame , that holy hour, Full on the heart with joy and power

c Broad truth that ﬂushed the young soul lear, And showed all distant glories near ;

N o w c o f lives that s ene , those thoughts yore

A presenc e evermore . '

T O A N O T T A W A f G I R L .

’ F A rR u Indian maid , young native q een ,

’ True N ymph or Dian o f the w ood

S c c c l t n ar e yet is rea hed thy ear iest ee ,

ﬂ o f i W o First ower open ng, omanho d O f all beheld by day or dream,

c t Came nothing su h as hou dost seem.

ch e m Wil Thy spee is strang , thy anners d ,

’ ' c bu e This s ant, t these all beauty s dr ss

S hy modesty that shows t he child,

Yet touc hed with p ride and stateliness ;

And s eems zin all thy mien and tread

’ ' c dau ht er born e . A sa hem s g , and br d

Th bi s c y gar quaint, but ri h and rare ,

Bead- belt and gay quilled mocc asin

A nd shelled braids plaits thy r aVenhair

Thy mantle wrought of feathered skin

r r B ight tassels kilt or ki tle bind,

c f h And gra e ul ﬂow t y locks behind .

“ 1 30 T O A N O T T A W A GIRL .

w he - c i far To atc h t storm loud gather ng ,

’ Or track the fawn o er morning dew

To danc e and sing a t evening star With dusky mate the green wood throu

’ fall ~ me b e Then so red man s ride and slav , f ’ F ew years , and ﬁnd orgotten grave

N o Ladyof the Lake could oar

W ith skill like t hine ‘ t hat slight c anoe

f o r f But swi ter springs u boat rom shore ,

’ Thine fades o er waters stem and blue

f e no Dark maid, arew ll more to see,

Yet . long shall I remember thee . N I A G A R A .

Great matchless Flood ! thy thousand lakes and rivers

“ f Here met, plunge down these aw ul mountain steeps

’ Ho w neath their Titan tramp the ﬁrm earth quivers, ’

‘ nd b k c liffs A ac with all her , astonished leaps ! Through heaven ’ s dark halls the thunder wakes

and sleeps ,

c n e r T he storm roused o ea rav s , and rests his hou J ;

c t h s But no repose omes to y troubled deep , f Thou sleep less sentinel shouting rom thy tower,

To earth f and sky t he voic e o f thy stupendous

power .

' Cities are gathering round thee , human hands T h s y avage beauty tame , to mold their own

“ c d Yet ﬁrm thy ro k seat, sure thy king om stands ,

r f T hou eignest here c hie monarc h and alone .

N ow f i s . c yon air h ll the sun rowns like a throne ,

N ow si ao f nks behind them in his sh d wy all ,

o f eve And round his rest the tents are strown , 1 32 NIA GA RA .

v c And night c omes listening to thy so ereign all , f f As erst through old dim years, rom solemn orests

tall .

f and ar I start rom dreams, hear the tempest ro ing,

' S s c f- a hudder ea h roo beam, harsh the window j rs — f I rise , g aze out, and the air sky is pouring

The gentle light o f all it s glorious stars

S weet shine the orb o f love and red haired Mars

N 0 w hit e * t umblin s e wind and up yon vast . g h et, f i Hangs her aint bow the Moon unstained w th bars, f a th f And sees her trembling orm bene th y eet,

' ‘ S eemi ng to list the t ale t hy waters aye repeat .

' ' ’ ‘ W ild dus k n at i n y o s on thy shores have wandered , ! f — And loved, and ought, pale armies joined in fray

A nd a a dA —and a c on all h ve _p sse myri ds ome and p

dered,

W ho now are gone , or soon must go, as they S till roar and foam thy bro ad waves green and

gray, S t h s w till round y mi ty brow the rainbo s span ,

N o c power shall hush thy voi e, thy waters stay,

f r Telling thy strength how mightier a than man,

’ Till thy small task is wrought . in God s unbounded plan

' 134 N MA A N D EG U B RIA .

S he w hispered in histran ced

“ O f glorious truths—s myst e ri o us things ;

Hi s S i t o e c ght grand r view s made lear,

A nd lent his soul her seraph wings Her sister muses came “ and sang

i o fu t The r warblings near hly word ,

S c s ch o ii e u h strain as tou ed no other t ng ,

‘ ‘ ' “ " r h And e st few mortal e ars had eard .

’ And men re vered the s ag e w ho brought them

’ ’ ‘ f w isdo s e de Pure draughts o . m sw etest w ; " ‘ ’ E i ~ m h e t h All in ger a, s na e aught t em, ’

s . new And ruled as none el e , old or

G d a f s u To o and F ith rich ane he b ilded, Led men to feel the laws divine ;

( e a w e k e i And lov and that dar grov sh elded ,

' ’ d The mu s es hallowed groun and shrine .

d d t A n roun the spo , as small ﬁrst ﬂowers

’ ’

- m e Came o er the cool sward s ossy gr en,

’ c e the nP And voi s hymned hidde owers ,

' W ho made t heir h aunt t hat . sylvan scene

E c n a h year in slowly solem train,

r V d High P iest and estal Maids woul throng,

A nd a i p y the r worship and their strain ,

‘ s acred F ait h S To and starry ong . 1 35 NUMA A N D EGERIA .

S o o f f , sage and bard sublime eeling , W f f f r ill o t rom stri e reti e alone ,

T o vinus e i h with Thought , h g truths revealing From higher worlds to light their own

uc co And s h the nymph y Contemplation ,

S eeks every pure and pensive mind ;

n And her i holy meditation,

His B of . love , his ride Heaven , shall ﬁnd ' —V I E o r A S P I T ; J U LI E T . O C I R

' ' ‘ ’ ' T no ri GHT sr thou of me - Fear not t he vow e t ho u

hea re st

u n s far - 0 Beyond the s , the tarry deep er ,

’ —’ “ ‘ I ve? gained my home! I VG found the lost and

dearest

‘ '

— s N o more the heart kno ws grief or w rong n o more

' It S t endie r oo f al a c i i bl m ound l too h rsh and h ll ng,

In t t c los ed ' it s a n ha bleak world , and , leaves ag i

It s u t of co l f and wl sweetness no gh time u d eel , il ing

' ‘ t - h r u f h i I soug t the skies e e a ght o eart m ght stain .

’ m t s e st ar er d Love was y Heaven , its ﬁrs we t o shade

By c louding fate jus t as it looked on earth

“ ot l i ts a Think n in earthly g oom light hath f ded ,

’ tis t o f . In Heaven shining s ill , heavenly birth

A . T O ! T H E E V E N IN G S T R

He s i ht aw Heaven blossom W i t h a new born l g ,

O n w hi ch as on e glorious st ranger gazed

” T h e olden e es of i g y N ght .

CRA snA w.

of n THOU breakest thy veil light, lo e star,

W oke from thy sweet day- dream

l fo far S til llowing by dim wood , A nd ’ long t he meadow stream

’ ‘ S t l h I m lon el w endin il wit me where y g,

' f n c And treasured a ies weave , r red b n Over the da k waters endi g,

t r le lan‘ d o f e And the p u p Ev .

- c t Thou omest into the silen sky ,

Like a - love thought in the mind ,

' Turning thy fair and friendly eye

h ’ n On t y sister earth , so ki d - 3 T o T HE EVENING sT A R . 1 9

e - W c Th re high , thy pensive love at h keeping,

’ s eem st bri ht one t Thou f g , to s ay ,

rn r i S ome gentle bea ut eou s e mo u e weep ng

’

a - o f . . O er the de th bed , the day

‘ Far on like bark or lost bird driven ,

- S o a vn like li i g thing,

e W E All saill ss , ingless, yet mild ven

’ ‘ E erfai thfully follow mg

c t Art thou to earth thy se re s telling,

e b mort al 9 Unh ard y _ ear d a A worl where human sh pes are dwelling, ’ Z’ Or spirits happier sp here .

U nknown - but sinc e the birth of Time

on In y unbounded ﬁeld, e ’ m Thou hast toil d thy Master s task subli e, i m u Br ght ystery , still nsealed

f c That one air page all limes and ages , Have looked upon and read

old The. high , the low , seers and sages,

The great , the vanished dead .

W f t h hat hearts have elt y spell divine,

of d And words passion tol ,

How many an eye all bright as thine ,

n . hat h lo c Gazed , that g been old 1 40 T O T IIE E V ENIN G S T A R .

’ hinest tho u r s w e et o f U n S till s , spot nio , W here souls may meet as one I look and seem to hold c ommunion i W ith kindred sp rits gone .

T he dear ones Death away hath riven

Kind Faith, their mansion tell

f of e Look they rom shining heights Heav n, And know thy myst eries W ell

’ E en far h now I hear a sweet ymning,

I see them all appear,

fo m ' v1s 10n i n Forms, looks be re y sw mmi g

S c u h as I loved them here .

a This hour, how many eyes , mild st r, On thee deep musing pour

c c f i f Per han e like me, kind r ends a ar, W ho soon will gaze no more

’ E en now I hear the cold winds blowin g

Over our graves so drear , I see spring grass and wild ﬂowers growing ' o’ As er lost ones year by year .

T H E

' W HEN far in yonder‘ Silent sky

ll l The S o another home shall ﬁnd ,

' ’ n t r u e n Looks t he Memory s pe sive eye, Z’ [ O n all she loved and left behind .

Or is this death a rayless night

Between the worlds o f light and sin

nd t he f s i f A reed p rit le t no sight ,

of a it o c 1? N o, thought wh t n e hath been

Ah no ! the ties whic h bound it here S till round its love must hold their c hain

A nobler power in p urer sphere ,

m i Yet still its sameness ust rema n.

f h e I Heaven our earthly state should id , f m h And blot our passage thenc e ro thoug t,

’ - s el Our being s f no more had died ,

’ ’ ’ If w e d been u e a t ne er , or t rn d to n ugh ! P ’ Y 1 43 T HE S IRIT S IDENT IT .

ca c Heart nnot hold despair so hill, d f Faith will not oubt , but ondly deem f There keeps the soul past eelings still ,

c f s enes resh as they ﬁrst did seem . - - HE oLD E A A N D T HE N EW . T . Y R

T HE herald tongue o f midnight tolls !

‘ ’ ar t e- one m o e m ! A ye h a h gon ore , n ore A down t he past it voiceless roll s '

’ ’

f . T o j oin t he t ho ri s ands gone beore.

‘

- h - d d th e r i N ot ca yea is l ving still , S wift Speeding as it ﬁ rSt begun 5

« - k . e f c no N ot lost i t s de ds ate an t ill ,

Thei r power endures while ye ars S hall

—’ N ot we a n gone tis are h ste ing p ast,

' Shores bac k- swi mming fromo ur ‘ Its S t l the a il springs a new year, as l st

' m ViS i Upon our tre bling oIi d ies .

’ ’ ’ s mid N Thu on , ature s living tide,

c r r c f f f c m . ta Ra e owding a e , ro li e we a ,

’ " T he da f s i wi grave s rk gul tands , yawn ng de,

A nd w e l like eaves are dropping there .

“ " 1 46 T LD YE R - A D HE O A N T HE N EW .

“ ’ E c c r ve a h step we tread, ea h b eath we drawn , M h oves all the worlds, t ough thoughtless we

a o f a A w ve power th t pulses on ,

S till working through eternity .

N or less d-oth c hange hers e mp i re keep

’ O er the wide u niverse o f mind

’ E c r l a h thought we utte ne er shall s eep ,

But stamp some image on mankind .

’ Ye un - , on thought s mo tain tops who stand,

n S o f w oe May se d down prings bliss or ,

’ f - To green or waste li e s spirit land,

’ And good or ill must ever ﬁ ow

c a Oh ! be it ours su h stre ms to send , As feed the soul with W is m c lear

s f S o Time and Death hall stand our riend,

W hen we our c ourse have ﬁn ished here .

1 840- 1 M U S I N G S

W HA T simplest things c an stir the soul in its ow n mystic hour

“ -_ . of A sight, a taste , a sc ent, a sound what spells mightiest power

W f c of hat sweet revi vings o , the gone, what s enes

f c an ied bliss, W f f hat sudden thoughts and eelings strange, as o a life ere this

’ W hen comes o er summer ﬁeld or hill a sweet gust

winnowing , Or from its solitude unseen some hermit bird doth sing

- f c an A piny wood , a distant mount, a water all move

’ c All the soul s se ret sympathies, its deep unuttered

love . MUS INGS .

W hen falling snows like sc attered flowers drop c alm

’ o er dale and hill ,

nd And tall trees rise a ghostly band, a the gloomy day is still

’

W _ m hen the oon looks o er the uplands white, or

’ thro the shadowy wood,

And the glistening stars shine kee nly down from their cold blue solitude

’ c - a Or heavy ross the night gl zed plain , when bleak

‘ W n o n i ds st rmi g go,

b t he ur f Tramp the dark groves, or y door in mo n ul

c c w aden e blo ,

c W f All hill without, yet in the heart hat eelings

w arm upburn, f f W hat memories old and hal orgot, like travel ers

far ! , return

c - e at A loud, a shade, a green grown ﬁ ld, a star,

brook , a tree ,

o f The whisperings the quiet mind , are all the world to me d They have a primal language true , a eeper, sweet

er tongue,

’ c f Than worded eloquen e e er spake , or Muse hersel

hath sung .

N S E T H E I N D I A U M M R .

From heaven the sun doth mi ldly pour

The spirit o f peace and rest

’ s And the warm air brood the still earth o er,

Like a dove her own sweet nest .

’ Ah ! tis but the shadowy winding S heet

’ ’ O er the passing year s dec ay

’ But f f of f so t as the all a seraph s eet,

i a The dy ng one ste ls away .

c eve Like a alm bright ere a stormy night,

Her f d strength at its last aint hol ,

W an nature puts on a smile all bright,

E re f c her h her a e and eart grows c old .

’ S o death o er his beauteous Victim stays

And the loved one with kindling eyes,

foe f Cast up on her a last brie gaze,

S an d Then gently inks down dies . T H E W E S T W I N D

c s THOU ome t , summer breeze ,

W ith life and music on the air ;

’ c I tra e thee thro those tossing trees, But where ’ s thy dwelling—where 9

You green maize slowly swings

’ W o ersha dow m c To thee , and ide g ome

c w The louds , on gray and silver ings ,

n But either is thy home .

’ Thou walk st the dreaming lake ,

‘d And its dapple skies in bright rings ﬂee ,

c - Like tinkling oins the shore waves break ,

’ f r But they re no lodge o thee .

S c Go, visit the i k man pale ,

fan f And his evered brain asleep , Then haste and lift yon ﬂagging sail

Along the W eltering deep . 1 52 T HE W E S T W IND

ﬂ ow er - f Go, kiss that girl air,

And blow her ringlets lovingly ,

c f And su k her posies resh, and bear

A sweeter balm to me .

Go to the window - S ill And softly tou c h the E olian

’ D W ell c o er its plaintive hords,

’ My soul s with subtle ﬁre .

wh Then wander ere it please ,

’ Thro ﬁeld, or dale or shady west

The brooks and birds and humming bee-S W ill lull me soon to rest .

Blow thou at dawning light,

Blue noon, or ruddy evening by, Or rove the starry woods at night

Thou goest a mystery .

Yet gives yon glorious ﬁre ,

Mild wind , thy gentle being birth,

o f On wings love that never tire ,

’ s Heaven s me senger to earth .

- T O . S I N G I N G

S on on ! ing , sing , thou gentle maiden W old Those tender ords , that sweet strain,

' W henc e thoughts like star - winged birds rich laden

Floc k from the past world home again .

o f c All blessed things yore ome thronging,

E ach grave o f old with life new teems

’ f c o f Bright an ies the heart s young longing, f High Visions o its morni ng dreams .

' c k Deep memories old and hushed are wa ing ,

Fair scenes long vanished meet the eye

and f One Vista past uture breaking, f And shadowings o eternity .

d f The ead like shades rom ruins hoary , I see them rise a silent band

’ I ve And all been a strange, dim story,

’ Like moonlight o er a mountain land . T o S INGING . 1 55

I see them rise , the heroes olden ,

’ W ho gave Time s sybil - leaves their fame

The g reat, the good, whose memory holden,

S W tir noble h e a rts to in the same .

c I see them rise , the lear departed , W hom love hath missed and mourned

f - The kind , the air, the gentle hearted , o 22 Ah , why so soon br ke ties so strong

c I hear their low and melting voi es , Like waves along a lonely shore

f c And the listening spirit hal rejoi es,

’ f — c no Then starts, to eel they ll ome more

f ! f ﬁ Then sing, air maid while so t thy ngers W ake from the strings that winning spell

S o blest . the f , spirit ondly lingers

’ Mid sc enes where else twere sad to dwell . ' T O T H E P I P I N G F R O G S ;

Much et remains ns n y u u g .

. k I hear your notes new brea ing,

F e o f t he irst proph ts spring,

E re t he S lumbering earth is waking,

Or the W arm gale lifts its wing ; W i hile the early birds are sleep ng,

c and And the hills lie old brown ,

Ere f the ﬁrst pale lower is peeping,

Or the bright rains glitter down .

W hen the land grows dim with shadows,

n f and m Ye si g rom pools strea s,

c o f Lone voi es the meadows, Like sounds in vanished dreams

S hrill through the deep air S welling

c c A strange and mysti hime ,

As sybil Memory telling , f Tales o the olden time .

158 T o T HE PIPING FRO GS .

’ ’ E b‘ ank d r By den s green ivers ,

W an hen earth d time were young,

W - hile slept the wild song givers, Life ’ s infant birth ye sung

’ W hen t he delu ge earth o er c limbing;

b e all In its deep grave uri d , .

S c ole mourners , ye were himing

’ r r f A dirge o e he uneral .

’ N 0 more o er hills and mountains

I ' r S i n The sylvan D yad gs , The dwellers o f her fountains

c Are voi eless , vanished things ;

Round S hores o f fabled story

N a e Her ereids h unt no mor ,

' Yet from her w re cks o f glory ’ f Ye re singing as o yore.

W c n e w el ome joy still bringing,

Ye minstrels o f all c limes ’ N n In ature s halls aye singi g,

Free singers o f all times — N o r vain the fount unsealing

W h c u k c en e tho ghts li e musi rise ,

S tirring the c hords o f feeling

’ In the soul s deep sympathies . 1 5 T o T HE PIPING FRO GS . 9

Year after year returning Gives many a sweet sound forth

- c Like heaven drawn in ense burning , They rise and pass from earth

c The harp its voi e must keep not,

’ ’ S oon the bard s s ong a breath is o er

B ut S ye , night minstrels, leep not,

When these are heard no more . - W I L L I M A N T I C W A T E R .

FA IR W illimantic gentl e stream !

’ In beauty winds your meado w d S l ti l resting like a happy dream ,

f r S till ever gliding a away .

of The same bright river as yore ,

W c hen down to drink the wild deer ame , f Or red man roamed thy orest shore ,

And c alled thee by thy sweet wild name .

And thou , old stream, art lovely still ,

- b c As when I played y thee a hild ,

' W s rin s at n hen p g gree on every hill ,

’ And o er thee wept bright c louds and smiled

W n hen a gling by thy grassy rim,

I loitered out the westering sun,

W atc hing thy bright - sc aled ﬁ s hlings s w i m Hard sport and snared them one by one

16 2 W ILLIMA NT IC W A T ER

’ T hou rt c hanged - the n oisy bus tling town Hath risen from thy roc ky side

N o w c n ﬂoods thy on e green meadows drow , d Dull , dark and deep , thy waters gli e .

’

I ll a . Yet thee think the same sweet stre m,

And love thee for the olden day S till resting like a happy dream , S ti ll ever gliding far away ! “ T H E C L O U D S .

’ LI GHT w ing d aerial voya gers

How tranquil on ye sail ,

Like troops o f Sylphs slow ﬂoating

’ In the west W ind s gentle gale f Or with white pinions olded,

’ c Ye sleep on Heaven s alm breast, W hen the languid breeze at noontide

Has lulled itself to rest .

o f c Fair daughters old O ean , W ith steps unseen ye c limb

o f The c rystal walls ether, T o rove its ﬁelds s ublime

S f c hook rom your ebon askets,

s Bright liquid gems ye hower,

’ c c And arpet earth s glad lands apes , f In robe o green and ﬂower . 1 64 T HE C LOUDS .

c c Ye weave a rimson anopy ,

W f i o f ith r nge braided gold ,

' ’ P bu Round h(B s ﬂaming chariot,

To his hall o f S lumber rolled

f m ﬁ rm am ent Or ra ed in eastern , W ith pearls dipt in his beams,

“ Your bridge the skies proud sp anning;

In gaudy brilliance gleams .

Then gay romantic cities l On airy plains ye bui d,

S and W c trange towers, izard astles ,

' W hich t he smiles o f evening gild Their burnished spires and battlements

In gorgeous state arise ,

t he c c i n Till gale like onquerer om g,

The glittering pageant ﬂies .

N ot - thus when darkly mustering, f Tempestuous stri e ye wage ,

f n And urious rolled through heave ,

In stormi n g tumult rage

f c Roused rom your gloomy hambers,

H - n oarse throated thu ders ﬂy ,

' In t hei r v ﬁ ery c ars hash rattling ‘ri k Ac ross the aﬁ ght ed S y .

N T H E H A R V E S T M O O .

’ com s t o f ni THOU , sweet traveler the ght,

W c ith silent step and presen e true , ’ o f O er fair blue realms starry light,

o f A nd ﬁelds silvern dew .

c th Thin louds around y rising thrown , m f Like blosso s ope and all away ,

’ ’ And night s dark mantle lies o er strown ,

c In all its ri h array .

Along yon distant mountain - heads

’ d si And every woo land s eastern de ,

c f Thy smile a gra ious ullness sheds,

As earth beheld her bride .

N ow looketh forth that glorious fac e S kyward as thou would ’ st mount above

c i c Yet stays ea h eve thy l ngering pa e,

A S ar- t did e h win thy love . A T HE H RVES T MOON . 1 67

S O thou the shepherd boy o f yore t h Didst visit with y sweetest beams , And give his mountain slumbers more

Than earthly love or dreams .

c 0 lone one c ouldst thou on ce ome near,

W o f c ith all thy world se ret things ,

S c trange ities , highlands wild and drear, S hapes walking or with wings

moves t And yet thou on thy way ,

F c b ar unapproa ha le and still, d Floo ing with silent light the bay ,

Or watc hing on the hill .

- ﬁ elds Full in thy light the corn sleep,

Or wave their blades and rustling plumes,

c f Ri h ruits whic h warless hands shall reap,

’ W ealth o f spring s whole perfumes .

And soon beneath thy broad lit dome ,

W c c ill happy voi es ome with song,

’ o f The husker s hymn harvest home ,

And nights serene and long . T H E S N O W B I R D

T HE a f h landsc pe is robed in a white rozen s roud ,

O f The tempest winter howls sullen and loud ,

‘ And shakes the ba re trees as it Whistles along

’ W re - c w hi o w ill s here spring groves e hoed the p p song.

the s f N O longer ro es so t blushing are seen ,

o r ﬂ ow eret s of r e N bright mantled in raiments g e n ,

The tall aged oak murmurs sad on the hill, f And soft gushing ountains in S lumber are still .

But hark t he wild snow - bird exultingly S ings,

’ O e r k i c n e As the blea ﬁelds ga ly hirpi g h springs ,

c f c n a Forsaken yet heer ul , onte t though lone,

' t he S o f r For all weet songsters summe have ﬂown .

! f ro amest all °reckles s f Blest bird orth thou and ree ,

The co ld wintry blast hath no terrors fo r thee W hile all things around thee with gloom are im

pressed ,

’ N O sadness e er darkens thy own happy breast .

’ L ’ T H E F A I RI E S M I G R A T I O N .

W A Y r ! A ! away ! the moon shines b ight,

And gilded skies serenely glow ;

Through airyﬁelds we take our ﬂight, ’ w Far o er the S lumberi ng world belo .

W e ur c ' lv t quit o on e loved sy an sea ,

s o The hadowy vale and l nely glade,

W o ft W S o c S here ith ilvery v i es weet,

At balmy eve we dan c ed and pl ayed .

W e? l nc n eave our wild e ha ted bowe rs,

r of f . n Arrayed in obes airest gree ,

l law ns a an d o f ﬂ r The ve vet beds owe s, W here we by day reposed unseen .

’ —w T he. summer s past, e go to ﬁnd

S clime b en eat h e ome a happi r sky , W here winds are mild and seasons kind , ’ sf And spring air blossoms never die . T HE FA IRIES MIGRA T ION . 1 71

W e in e t here ﬁ lds v rdan garb are dight , And groves forever green appear T e f e h re songsters dwell with ond d light,

And revel through the blooming year .

‘ O n s ifl silken wing we sw t y speed , Our ﬂight must end ere glimps e o f d ay

we m ‘ ' Then will seek some e erald mead,

’

mo - l d f r E an S a . b wered in wood I away

’ Wt l e i h mirth the hours we l her beguile , b l Along the dew espang ed ground ,

’ B a c ene th the pale moon s loudless smile,

S Ortin i n c rc p g i ling mazes round .

’ ’ n o er B ut when drear wi ter s reign is ,

J ﬂ o w eret s em c And g ea h smiling p lain ,

’ e c Our former home w ll seek on e more ,

’ And wanton mong its bowers a gain . ‘ A N I N D I A N S IJ MME R D A Y.

HOW fair the smoky morning light isffallmg

A o the a - c o l ng , m ny olored wo d

A nd l . ma sterin c he i r a s are c n oud the g rows t m te , alli g s T hrough ﬁeld o f solit ude .

f U c m t he s un i l e S l i n p li bs , the V lag eep g,

n w m - l A nd roof an dS pire. i dro sy ist ight

’ Heaven s soft breath S lumbe ring;

“ ~ In the warm Ea st t he s w e et e t ongii ed larks are

springing,

PO u ri n t thei r u c l l g so ls in hi di sh g ee,

W hile t o e ach other ea rth and sky are ! singing f in " A last a t j u bilee.

" Yo n l f n r k dark pines rise ike uneral ; mour e s , eep ing " The hush o f breathl ess

’ ‘ “ soft Winds uch like t end'e m Till to , r emories sweep m g,

s h n d ‘ They ig a bright drops fall .

“ ‘ 74 A N A N S U MMER D Y. 1 . N I DI A

N o t es lin su bli fo e w w ter g stoops the n, t ndly dalli s

W ith things hi s sp ring: face lov ed - S O W ell ;

” B are glades and ti mber slopes . and S haded

’ They feel -t he year s farewell

‘ nd re und and i m ow On hedge a cultu d gro Open ng ead ,

’ ’ ‘ o er t he Willow r And brooding y st eam ,

' “ Dw l l h t he ai r - h eOf o el s the warm ig t; s ad a Shad w, A sp ir it in its dream !

“ his s the c Sun i s n Prone to re t si kly speedi g,

' o ra e st e aks his n L ng y r point j ourney dow ,

i k ro dsfb Se t far L e a y raphs rod , leading T o yon c elestial town

a e war t he a w an laré' dimw mWS G z to ds p le . g ,

st i gli en ng, _

“ “ ‘ ’ W hile s ou nds; as t hro an empty ~ room

l o and ‘ t ee ‘ n s e n Come strange yl ud , r s and all sta d li t ni g ,

’ A s t hos e i d that wait the r oom .

’ ’ w r e o er b ow n ri c d - N f ~ e e i dges omes ark mantl d ven,

‘ Red h a W t he w aves s s dowings rap to re t,

al the olden ' ort s of e a And , moored ong g p h ven ,

Y ou ﬁ re - o li cl uds ne the west . 1 75 A N INDIA N S uMMER DA Y .

’ “ And hark ! while rose - w ing d hours their leave are taking

‘ ma ic t int ed Along the g hills ,

t he c c Throbs lone bell , the mellow air s ar e breaking, Like a last heart beat—then still

ace c ! Pe , alm sweet day with dusky night now meeting E arth lulls beneath her starry tent

S O gently pass and meet with death , when ﬂeeting,

Mine own life - day is spent !

. D ec . 2 1842 . T irs cA LO O SA , A LA , , N E W E A ’ S M Y R O R N I N G.

i o f - i O N yonder l ne hill tops wh te , The late risen winter sun is peeping

in ellow - cr And broad , y imsoned light

t s d l sl i n The land just s ir its long u l eep g .

! ’ A dreamy torpor Weighs all o er ;

Bright S pires eac h eave and rock are fringing ;

f z t c b f e The ro en breath s eams thi k e or , l i And frost like hidden ﬁre i s si nge ng .

f A hundred roo s now glint in gold,

A nd climbing smokes with blue sky mingle ;

and c W hile through the still air keen old ,

The distant sleigh - bells softly j i ngle .

S C ! And every sound rings harp and lea ,

T he c c - ch ca n drowsy o ks their morn wat lli g,

f far Kine aintly lowing and near ,

And now a nd then geese harsh lysqualling .

T HE k ' S e s y i s fair as a lake o f swans, no had its

c s white loud ﬂing,

and f i s e And earth is singing in her joy , ree very thing

’ ' W e ll o and t o an d g ramble hr ugh the ﬁelds, breathe

t he of June breath ,

’ - a c es and h t r And se t us neath the hesnut tre , wit hei

leaves c ommune .

’ W o u o t nd e ll g and talk with r stling wo ds , all pines a a shady o ks,

’ o i h f The w rld s pr meval people , t ose old amiliar f olks,

S till living and still speaking inthat same oldeh

tongue , The tales th at Winds o f thousand years from their u d tho san lips have wrung . T REES . 179

’ They te ac h us ancient orac les from N ature s hidden

” scrolls

“ n we cc s Chanti g s et a ent to our ears, deep lessons to our souls ‘ l t e rb T hey join O d ages with the new , and tell h i y

gone lore ,

‘ They brin g u S sol e mn tidings . from the Vanished

“ o f world yore .

‘ A nd still eac h hour that p rimal sp eech With passing

Time they hold ,

, i t e c t he L sp to h d ews , hime to rains , as In the days O f old

A n d a w rit e the re c ord of the years within their i stor ed rings,

“ And watch the cr adle and the grave Of man and

mortal things . .

[ i o f c Old g ants the mountains , their loudy peaks they

c limb,

And nearer Heaven than - aught of E arth uplift their

heads sublime ,

k ﬁ t o f To drin the rs young gush day , and bathe i n W the golden est,

c : a kies i n Hold onverse with the starry , or dream

solemn , rest T R S : 180 EE .

- fe d Up toweri ng Ih their lordly strength, by the _soil

a nd sun ,

’ ‘ W il r ov t he h eth ough their veins, b e highest sp ring ,

subtle Waters run ;

’ l t t e i th e And ike ha kind sag T tan old , they bring ﬁre

“ to man ,

’ Z ir n i A nd draw its thunde rs ona tli e h eads a d help h m

all they c an. — . h de nd . a d f They yield him s a y a ﬂower n r uit yea,

- all their harvest dower

Thei r bodies for his life they gi ve; and serve hi m

‘ - They n urse t hei r ~ sw e et - tong ued children to cheer “ e his h art with song,

' And bear him over ' la n d and W ave in faithful arms

and strong .

' ci brotherw o od so c ﬁ rm They g row a so al , alm and

a d S n low , A nd kindly shie ld eac h other from shock or over throw

ld eon: Cou we but read their history, and hear their

e verse strang ,

A nd know what silent symp athies e ach' hour they ‘ interchange

T H E L i L I E S O F T H E F I E L D ;

S W E c o f - E T hildren the meadow land , l By sunny bank or hi l ,

Ho w l d rock ye in the zephyrs b an , And sleep when all is still

‘ W hat dress o f lo veliest green ye wear

N o f spun or woven old ,

Yet monarchs own no robe so fai r

O f silken woof and gold .

Communing with your sister ﬂowers ,

' Ye know nor c are nor sigh

’ e c and Born n ath lear skies summer hours, W ith them ye shine and die .

“ ’ Your food and life Heaven s full warm light

W c hi h paints your tints so gay ,

’ e u Ye miss when gon yo r parent s sight,

e r : And y n_ o longe stay T H LILI 18 3 E ES or T HE FIELD .

But l b , whispering to your S um ering

e c Heav n alls you , and ye rise

S o f c rise and per e t shine the j ust, Beneath unfading skies T H E W H I P P W T O O I L L .

LO r - of NE hermit bi d darksome hour,

~ r e da Unhea d , unse n by y,

W of l o f hat soul song, what spel power

‘ Pours through thy melting lay !

W hen all the ml ns t rels o f the wood

Their latest songs have sung,

’ T hou giv st the voic eless solitude

A sweet and tender tongue .

’ W - hen day s last steps the hill top leave ,

c ot And and ﬁeld grow dim, From shadowy wood at rest ye weave

Y ol ic our d pathet hymn .

nc That a ient hymn , and sung so long,

S c o f in e shadowy days yore ,

c f o It omes like some org tten song , f That wakes to li e once more .

T O A G R O U P O F C H IL D R E N .

S A W M LL men and omen blossoming,

o f n a e Types a golde g , p

’ O f c ln i s Heaven s ﬁrst hildren the r spring, And Eden ’ s heritage

Ye seem new - ﬂow n from some bright sphere,

' ‘ On earth awhile to play 5

‘

' I hark - ai r \ t on es and f your y , ear

Ye then c e might soar away .

f Yet human shapes so air, so young,

S weet grac e u ntrained of a rt

’ ac i 3 God s language ﬁlls e h warbl ng tongue ,

c f c His smile ea h a e and heart .

all h e And smiles on your glad earts sh d, And love deny to none

e d c , e H re oubt no old distrust hath br d ,

’ h s s u Undimmed ope morning n . . T o A GROUP or CHILDREN . 1 87

’ not u Ye ha ve learned , tis all nwise

“ You r whole sweet selves to show

d c u Untaught that pru en e is disg ise, all Ye tell truth ye know .

f f Pure ones your eelings all un eigned,

' o u c b T ime Y ur so ls untou hed y ,

c c Ye keep ﬁrst inno en e unstained , f First simple aith sublime .

S c ‘ c S u h on e the Holy aviour blessed,

S c if b s u h we , les ed must be

w i sest ' best And they are greatest, , ,

W ho most resemble ye .

I fain would take you t omy heart

W ith full and strong caress ;

' ’ S o life s dry springs one gush might st art O f former blessedness U N H E A R D ~ M U S I C .

‘ THIS world hath many voic es of JO Y and grief and f a e r,

m far e c ‘ And any more sw eter whi h we may . never

hear .

“ O r w akes ome N o pulse , stir , or motion, but s kindred d soun ,

ef n de th ' Lost in its l , or vanishi g, in p of. distance

drowned .

‘ W r e é e but our senses ﬁner, what utt rings every breath ! The whole wide earth o ne jubilee of life or dirge

o f death

The t i niverse an organ vast o f e ndless pitch and

tone, S till nig ht and day moved by the will o f the Eternal

One .

1 90 U NHEA R D MUS IC .

Fair primal Light c ould we b ut list the p urliii g of

s s thy pring ,

" Clear as we see thy thrilling touc h give all thei r

hues to things ,

W hen pours its gushing melody i n the w hite flood of

da y, Or s well the coral harmonies that in the sunset play !

On some far shore o f Heaven might we with ears C a elesti l stand ,

And list to that immortal c hoir yon ' p lan etary band!

- c d now far ar In thunder hime , now lou , low , as or ne

they run,

S till W i nd their music - marc h around their mighty

S un head , the

catc t heh m o f f now clearl And h y ns arther spheres b y d soun ing by ,

N ow soft pathetic murmurings just - gathered ere they

die ,

' ‘ S w eet ias the last faint tones that breathe from clcsing d lips so ear,

i W e d if O uls Oh m ght know , ye glorious worl s, s your musi c hear L I G H T

ELES T A L ! ‘ C I . Light Immortal element

s fu — d Boundle s and beauti l , broa , deep , sublime

The outﬂows o f thy shining ﬂood are sent Beyond all scope o f thought to Sound or c limb

o f o f c Revealer all things spa e and time ,

o f f Creator sole motion , li e and sense , ’ — ' God s messenger eternal efﬂ u en ce

c r far Bright presen e , e ver round us near o ,

F h o f t he illing the dept s expanding skies,

' c c o f Beyond the ir uit the utm ost star,

’ H c d eaven s ountless multitu e to mortal eyes ,

W e avm 1nt erchan e o f f l g grand g al and rise ,

S i o lumber ng by day and j urneying through the night, Aye st emming thy vast deep forever c alm and bright ! S T A N z A s

R GH h ft f TH OU the suns ine a er allen showers ,

and Cometh a trim happy lass ,

W o t he ith her rosy hands am ng ﬂowers ,

A nd her smalffeet in the grass By meadowy banks where goeth a river

In the lull of its own sweet music ever .

ft c And so ly around her winds des ending,

Breathe in her e ar their tenderest things

t he And loving sky stoops kindly bending,

‘ To woo with thousand visitings

i t o f —al Unheed ng all , _ yet sough all one;

S he on e e singeth her low sw et underton .

' S O L I T A R Y M U S I N G S .

' S W E T r to visi me f far li E sta , t rom thy dwel ng,

‘ ’ Looking my w indow throo w it h eye so bright !

‘ Couldst thou but send the thoughts my b osom swelling " To kindr ed ones with thy mild loving light

' n th b n Dark wi d , at y my door so solem speakest

' In that grave voic e a world o f sad s w eet thi ngs

’ ' n d t o e ve r o f t o se Thro the wide la y r o h u ekest, ‘

’ “

af . W n ! Oh, might st thou w t my wishes on thy i gs

’ S hort life l bro ad earth ! how small an d ﬁxed our plac es ;

Ho w few b t f the oldes , busiest eet explore

W s o f nn f c hat eye tenderest soul , what wi ing a es ,

and e ! Meet, look , ﬂit by us , are s en no more 1 5 SO LITARY MUS ING S . 9

’ W hat kindred he art s for fellowship are pining

T he c far known , the unknown, s attered and wide

’ ‘ ’ Ve m a rk d They heard that wind , and yon bright

f n rie d shining,

" My love 8 With them wherever they abide

f f c Fair orms , air souls , in town or ottage pleasant,

‘ or or By shadowy wood , vale, mountain lone ,

l ers on - Cou d but likethought, our p be all present

F o f c ond dream youth , whi h manhood loves to

O W I! .

‘ - t hen mi ht How g loving spirits meet and mingle ,

ow in f N never met, or soon to part ear,

f- Mismated mourn , or seek , sel hermits single , In Heaven communings which they ﬁnd not here T O M Y S O U L .

V OI REVE R ! EV R ! CES grand , FO N E

S m c oul , thy doo and duty all

arn hen e o E est t be thin endeav r, More than to redeem thy fall ! ’ “ Labor God s immortal lever, Made and moves and measures

’ Let the Work o f Heaven s as sIgn ing On thy front immortal S hine

W hy should doubt or vain repining

Blanc h a countenan c e divine

’ W n t t S he God s ligh is on hee hining , ' And his universe is thine

S ! ’ d oul , awake God s trump is sen ing — Summons t o the battle - ﬁ eld

E c vil hosts with Truth ontending,

c S r Claim the bu kler, wo d and shield f f i Better all , the Right de end ng,

Than survive thy s elf to . yield

C H I L DR E N IN H E A V E N .

’ T w A s W Is e f c a aith meet and tou hing , O f N he the manly ort rn mind , That In heaven to little c hildren k IS the ﬁtting tas assigned ,

S c e the till to s att r young blossoms ,

Over earth by every thing,

( As the S prings returning season

Comes with beauteous v1s it ing .

S f a tooping light rom ﬂowery pathw ys , S trewed they hill and mead and plain

S oft and guileless as the sun - c louds

’ S hed their offerings O f rain .

n And to all men toiling u der ,

W elc ome c ame their gifts o f love

F f - W or like birds rom sky ard singing , Brought they tidings from above CHILDREN IN HEA V EN . 1 99

d f ' Glad ening earth with blessed oretaste ,

A S her mortal hours went by , O f that land W here ﬂowers unfading

S pring and bloom immortally . ' S E E K I N A N A M E G .

S i chart w sileant uO d ene eceri s q b f ,

” ' Mercedem t uleris . HO R . CA R. 4 .

O to wi n c D ST thou toil , poor heart, remembran e , f S huddering at the thought, To be orgot

s c t h m nc S how eth w ell u h longing, y rese bla e

To the power that dieth not .

’ S eek st W H Be thou hidden good ealth, onor, auty

’

x , d t t hou np t , ai Then toil on but woul s ‘ in v n ,

S h t he h t o f eek t em in hig , ( s raight p ath duty ,

. l Else thy b essings prove thy bane .

W h h ft u ealt hat lo y so l in dust degraded ,

’ o t it s c Hon r wrough own and other s s ourge ,

‘ l c too far f Beauty ured its hild , and aded , E arly sung its own sad dirge .

‘ 2 02 S EE K ING A NA ME;

’ E cht o d c ed k i a h ught uttere , a t ; thin thy sp ir t s

L iving seed. fo r, endless harvests sown

t o f li o r e w i c Frui b ss . bal h h man inherits,

" d ~ Reaps in years an worlds unknown .

r fe u S In that highe li where tho art peeding,

' W ’ Z hat were human fame frO m human w e". ed Oh, what joy to View some bruised heart ble ing,

F Healed by fruitswhic h thou didst sow

W t o . s ee th f l mOrt al ha the j y to y e low ,

r a t and e c H n , appie m de by _ oil t a hi gs thine,

N O bler t hos e bri h r mi , nearer g t p o sed portals O f their des tiny divine .

' W f h r hat though rom the eart thy memory molde , — T here t hy deeds thy S elf will. still live on b Then take heart, and struggle purer, older ,

These will work when thou art gone .

S O a i f o r r sh ll gr e n grudge thy spi it c anker, e ow Pleasure dull , prid blind , nor p er betray;

S o a a nd t in tr ng he rt thy bark , rust God thy anchor, F aith thy star to brighter day . ' ‘ T I M E A N D I: I - D E .

BY a n busy day, by dre ming ight , PO St O ur ﬂeet hours i n soundless t read i wi h s d And st ll t viewles spa e and light,

i i Gray T me is digg ng us a bed .

" ’ ah d s t ho tIs and s De t s quiver hi e ten dart ,

' i c h ﬂi ht ~ alon Th k speeds their s apeless g g ,

“ E c f m a h marks a p rey ro human hearts ,

’ c o . The ar her s arm is dim , but str ng

“ o ft And and sudden at our side ,

' “ f - ma f Our li e tes eel the silent blow , W h e ose days s emed surest long to bide , ’ u —but ! Love s yo ngest, dearest they go

W k ‘ And still the or goes wasting on,

’ E c m a h mo ent ends some mortal s day ,

' f w e ‘ on e a ha ve draw n And ast as bre th ,

Another gasps his own away . 204 T IME A N D T IDE .

c i S E ac h moment is a our er ped,

' i s c Bear ng a blind , but ure de ree '

" f t e Hours count their oo steps by the d ad ,

’ Life s sand - glass for eterni ty .

S n c c s . ome sudden ha ce , ome S e ret bane ,

W aits i n o u r p ath to s trike our doom

at e s wa e hat h slain F till new ys h r last ,

' ' ' f T he w a s are cOuIi t les s t o t he . y , tomb

E h. l f tO n eS art stil is sounding uneral ,

’ Borne faint ‘ t o watchful F ancys ear ;

" ' S i and d i n ns ighs, wail ngs,shrieks y g groa

n Eac h wind their mournful messe ger .

W and el hile pomp pride hold rev there ,

“ o d c c - Dark , y nder , win s the hur h yard throng

k l t he ai r And slow nells oad solemn , W h r ile Pleasu e trills her thoughtless song .

S N a r ! of v a e weet tu e harp ri d strings ,

” t o not es o f And tuned joy and pain, '

N o r M s ad S less than irth, orrow sings ,

' T dee er b eaks ri evm hough p r the g g Strain .

S O N N E T S .

REVE RIES .

S CE f c IN ﬁrst I met that radiant a e , Of And heard those lips tenderest tone ,

. ’ ’ ﬁ ll d c c My soul as with God s ri h gra e , N ew light unto itself hath grown

’ W Better the world ithout I ve known , And better learned the world within ; Life ’ s joys and beauties round me strown

T O c S S in hoose , and hun its blight and

f c To see all things a per e t whole , And perfe ct eac h that fervently

Toils , hopes and loves, with heavenward soul ,

E c f a h hour more noble , pure and ree ;

c r Dear maiden , to thy ha m I owe ,

S c f c . u h aith above , su h joy below O 207 S NNETS .

’ U c am st o f THO , sweet vision my earliest dreaming,

W S f c ith thy pring a e and earnest loving eyes ,

c o f c And voi e ri h , mysterious melodies , Thy bright hair from t hy high pure forehead stream

i ng ;

d o f E S And all things roun thee seemed den kies ,

' S o f o teeped in the slumber ambr sial air , Through whic h young souls like burning perfumes

rise ,

’ o f f And dream all that s holy, great and air

c o f c of Thee hild loveliness and gra e motion ,

M for y spirit saw , and knew thee its own , Tou ched with all feelings like a wakened oc ean

’ W hic h a c le ar wind o f morning hath o e rblow n

’ T ho u rt o f c gone, and lone I walk a world are ,

Yet seek thee still , and ﬁnd thee everywhere .

— S PRIN G. EV EN IN G .

c HID all day long , the evening sun omes breaking

’ ! o f w S O er waters and green hills s eet pring time ,

c His bright descent to earth majesti making,

’ S o c ame Apollo in the world s ﬁrst prime 2 08 S ONN ET S .

A n d l c every woodland haunt ends wel come hime , f f And sky and wave so t images un old,

. U c o f old tterings that ome with breathing rhyme , S hapes love hath known or faith waits to behold

' e s de art ed old Ren w the present the p , A nd still a fairer future promising

All emble med by this sun whic h paints with gold

’ Sweet N ature s store o f every b e auteous thing

S O a n d f n S , love aith and patie t hope hall wake ,

R in t he i h c m obed glor es w i h their blessings ake .

S — PRIN G MO RN IN G .

A L da i n ew b e H I , blessed y spr ng woods ro es are w ar

i n g ,

’ Flung o er them by the sunny breath O f May Gardens and o rc hard grounds thei r blooms are bear

ing , f To the soft winds that drink their li e away .

Hark to the birds and waters happily singing — In a love dream , where ridgy pinelands wave , W hile in the distance slopin g S howers are bringing

Food fo r young ﬂowers whic h l ate to earth the y

gave .

210 S ONNET S .

— Misgivings drear The S ilenc e saith N O MORE

- From the void deep Time doth the old renew , N ot reprodu c e the O ld 0 never more

“ W a ill the dead p ast return with s meness true , But c hanged and bettered still Time rolleth on W hat gain to keep the dull round overgone

’ E ? TH N meet we ne er. our lost ones Faith serene

’ From thought s di m ﬂights smiles YES w ith sweet

est eyes ,

Filled with the visioned Future , and her mien

T r an sﬁ u red o f g pours the light Paradise ,

c n Filling the soul with pea e and livi g green , A nd all its fears and longings turn to bliss

of Like sudden gush distant melodies ,

’ Or Eden - balm o f loving heart s ﬁrst kiss

w — W e Gro all things plain , no more doubt or miss f ff The loved and lost, rom su erings then made pure

Breaks light from higher worlds to lighten this,

W hi c h c aught, enduring strengthens to endure

a Future seen present wakes our he rts to song,

Their beatings whisper hope serene and strong . S ONN ET S . 2 1 1

FA T E O F T F HE GI T ED .

T HE o f f souls lo tiest range sublime ,

f o f And ﬁnest rame tenderness , M eet none to own them in their time,

c Their way apart, ompanionless (A mystery e ’ er misunderstood By men O f grosser mould and mood

Proving this truth so desolate , The sentenc e stern o f primal fate

W ho i s h ghe t walks must walk alone , W w ho kno eth most is most unknown , And still in suffering sad must learn

N ot now the bliss for whic h they yearn

fo r c Their meed ages hen e must wait,

W hose insight shall appre c iate . F G R A M E N T S .

H W c f le a eth O lear and swi t t he streamlet p , F f orth gushing rom its mountain spring,

But s low in dark dull mazes" c reepeth

Anear its sea - goal lingering

o f f r u ns s ee din S o the bright stream Li e p g ,

S wift dashing through its young bright day,

But late with sluggish pac e unheeding

’ In Time s vast deep to melt away .

c i T HE autumn hills are bla k with ra n,

W d And desolate in s ﬁll all the sky,

And loud over wood and mountain and p lain ,

Go sobbing with heart - breaks o f sadness by

Like wandering spirits to whom doth c ome

N O hope but the ﬂush o f a dimmest yearning ;

“ w o f r N o pausing with press so row dumb,

N o w wailing for what hath no more returning

T O V E S E M Y R S .

GO f a and f l orth , young tr velers , arewe l we part

’ ff o f S c O spring ong , sweet Truth and Fan y s dower ;

N u r lin s o f c h O f s g love , sweet ildren the heart ,

My dear c ompanions many a varying hour !

’ GO f bear your ﬁrst ruits in the world s wide mart,

And sow yo ur seeds in willing hearts to ﬂower

o f P c F i H The seeds ea e , a th, ope and loving Truth , f old o . To cheer the , or light the soul youth

Beauteous ye seemed to me in solitude , Though the world may not like your looks or store

e d Toil on in trust, though strangers treat y ru e Go take your rank with others gone before

“ Perchanc e some fe w your claims when kindly d viewe ,

W S f ill own , nor bear to purn you rom their door f ’ S ome riends ye ll ﬁnd whilom your worth to see ,

’ Met hinks full well ye ll pay their c harity ’ L ENVOI . 2 15

G O forth ! and be the good ye bring your fame S l eek out mankind , the humb e , poor and low , f Greet kindly all , nor ear their slight nor blame ;

’ ’ o r w As God s pure light and air all things e ﬂ o .

’ ’ P r thee f , lisp ye to none your ather s name

To- j udge ye fair none should your lineage know

Content to take his meed the good ye give , f And die by them orgot , so ye remembered live .

’ L E N V O I .

THOU wilt sc arc e onc e think upon

N ever miss thy brother gone ,

But I leave my blessing on thee , ! Bright and glorious, travel on