Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Standing alone by the highway side,
Stately, and stalwart, and tempest-tried,
Staunch of body and strong of bough,
Fronting the sky with an honest brow,
King of the forest and field is he -
Yon way side watcher - the old Elm tree.

When kindly Summer, with smile serene,
Drapes branch and bough in her robe of green,
Ever the joyous, wild birds come
And sing 'mid the clustering leaves at home;
Ever the soft winds, to and fro,
Steal through the branches with music low,
And golden sunbeams sparkle and play,
And dance with shadows the livelong day.

Up to his forehead undimmed by time,
The morning sun-ray is first to climb,
With the tender touch of its earliest beam
To break the spell of his dewy dream;
And there the longest, when daylight dies,...

AN INDIAN TRADITION; VERSIFIED FROM SCHOOLCRAFT


It was a day of festive-mirth,
    And bright the Indian wigwams shone,
For 'twas a chieftain's bridal-day,
    And gladness dwelt in every tone;
But ere the glow of sunset hours
    Upon the western hills was shed,
Deep sadness rested on those bowers -
    The bride was numbered with the dead.

Days passed; and still beside her tomb
    The stricken lover bowed his head;
And-nightly, through the forest's gloom
    The stars beheld him with his dead.
In vain did grey-haired chieftains urge
    The youthful hunter to the chase; -
He heard, yet heeded not their words,
    For grief had chained him to the place.

They laid his war-club by his side,
    His bow and arrows, too, they br...

Dark was the world when from the bowers
    Of forfeit Eden man went forth,
With aching heart and blighted powers,
    To till the sterile soil of earth;
Yet, even then, a glimmering light
    Faintly illumed the eastern skies,
And, struggling through the mists of night,
    Beamed soft on Abel's sacrifice.

It shone on Abram's eager eyes
    Upon Moriah's lonely height,
And Jacob, 'neath the midnight skies,
    In hallowed dreams beheld its light;
And o'er Arabia's desert sand
    Where weary Israel wandered on,
In doubt and fear toward Canaan's land,
    The hallowed dawning brighter shone.

Ages roll on 'mid deep'ning day,
    And prophet-bard and holy seer
Watch eagerly the kindling ray,
    To see the blessed sun appear -
Wat...

"Giving up three for one!" - mother,
    You said in the long ago,
When father, yourself, and John, mother,
    I left, o'er the deep to go.
"Giving up three for one!" - mother,
    You said, and it sank in my heart;
For tho' strong was my love for the one, mother,
    It was hard from the three to part.

But to-day, as I sit alone, mother,
    Rocking my little one's bed -
(Not Winnie's bed, dear, but her brother's - )
    I am thinking of what you said;
And a sweet thought glads my heart, mother -
    Can you guess what the thought can be?
'Tis, that tho' I'd but one in the start, mother,
    Yet now I have three for three.

Yes, three for three, my mother,
    God is good to your wandering child,
So far from her father and brother...

Good night! good night! - the golden day
    Has veiled its sunset beam,
And twilight's star its beauteous ray
    Has mirrored in the stream; -
Low voices come from vale and height,
    And murmur soft, good night! good night!

Good night! - the bee with folded wings
    Sleeps sweet in honeyed flowers,
And far away the night-bird sings
    In dreamy forest bowers,
And slowly fades the western light
    In deepening shade, - good night! good night!

Good night! good night! - in whispers low
    The ling'ring zephyr sighs,
And softly, in its dreamy flow,
    The murm'ring brook replies;
And, where yon casement still is bright,
    A softer voice has breathed good-night!

Good night! - as steals the cooling dew
    Where the young ...

    "Time for bed!" - the weary day
With its toils has passed away
Sol has wrapped his forehead bright
In the curtains of the night,
And his glorious lamp again
Lowered behind the western main
Leaving all heaven's pure expanse
Radiant with his parting glance

    Just a few, faint stars are seen
Ranged around the midnight queen -
A select and glorious band
Who alone may waiting stand
Hound the monarch of the night,
Bearing up their urns of light,
Her majestic path to cheer
Till the shadows disappear.

    "Time for bed!" the folded flowers
Hang their heads in forest bowers;
Nestled in each downy nest
Day's sweet songsters calmly rest;
And the night-bird's plaintive hymn
Echoes through the forest dim;
Dew-drops on the bir...

        What! only to stay
        For a single day?
Thou beautiful, bright hued on
        Just to open thine eyes
        To the blue of the skies
And the light of the glorious sun,
        Then, to fade away
        In the same rich ray,
And die ere the day is done?

        Bright thing of a day
        Thou hast caught a ray
From Morn's jewelled curtain fold
        On thy burning cheek,
        And the ruby streak
His dyed it with charms untold -
        And the gorgeous vest
        On thy queenly breast,
Is dashed with her choicest gold.

        A statelier queen
        Has never been seen,
A lovelier never will be! -
        Nay, Solomon, dressed
        In his kingliest best,
Was never a match for thee,<...

Why art thou here, little, motherless one, -
Why art thou here in this bleak world alone?
With that innocent smile on thy beautiful brow,
What hath this stern world for such as thou?

Why art thou here in this world of unrest,
Thou that of angels shouldst be the guest? -
Oh, wild are the storms of this wintry clime,
Dire are the ills that will meet thee in time!
Lamb, with no shelter when tempests are near,
Dove, with no resting place, why art thou here?

WRITTEN BY REQUEST, FOR A GOLDEN WEDDING


Full fifty years together -
    Father and mother dear -
Through pleasant summer weather,
    Or wintry tempests drear, -
Thro' sunshine and thro' shadow,
    Oft travel sore and tried,
Yet strong to aid each other,
    You've journeyed side by side

A few brief years of climbing, -
    One glad, exultant glance
At the sun bright world around you,
    At the smiling heaven's expanse, -
And then, the slow descending
    Into the vale below,
Where the light with shade is blending,
    And the deamy waters flow

Full fifty years of travel -
    Then, on your worn staves rest,
And welcome home your children,
    And many an honored guest, -
We come to give you greeting, -
...

"Be Still, and know that I am God!"


Be silent, Soul! - though dark thy path and dreary,
    And wild with storm, yet what is that to thee?
Though thou art faint, and desolate, and weary,
    Thy God hath willed thus, - so let it be!
Murmurs the mountain oak when storms assail it,
    And warring tempests wildly shake its form?
Firmer within the earth its root it striketh,
    And gathers strength and vigor from the storm.

Be silent, Soul! - the hand of God is on thee!
    And, as a skillful gard'ner, from the vine
Doth lop away each worthless branch and barren,
    So He would lop each fruitless bough of thine.
Ah! thou art earth-bound, prone, and lowly creeping,
    clinging to things too frail to be thy stay;
Jesus, with watchful care His vineya...

    Over the mountains, under the snow
Lieth a valley cold and low,
'Neath a white, immovable pall,
Desolate, dreary, soulless all,
And soundless, save when the wintry blast
Sweeps with funeral music past.

    Yet was that valley not always so,
For I trod its summer-paths long ago;
And I gathered flowers of fairest dyes
Where now the snow-drift heaviest lies;
And I drank from rills that, with murmurous song,
Wandered in golden light along
Through bowers, whose ever-fragrant air
Was heavy with perfume of flowrets fair, -
Through cool, green meadows where, all day long,
The wild bee droned his voluptuous song;
While over all shone the eye of Love
In the violet-tinted heavens above.

    And through that valley ran veins of gold,
And the...

Thou hast marked the lonely river,
    On whose waveless bosom lay
Some deep mountain-shadow ever,
    Dark'ning e'en the ripples' play -
Didst thou deem it had no murmur
    Of soft music, though unheard?
Deem that, 'neath the quiet surface,
    The calm waters never stirred?

Thou hast marked the pensive forest,
    Where the moonbeams slept by night,
While the elm and drooping willow
    Sorrowed in the misty light -
Didst thou think those depths so silent
    Held no fount of tender song
That awoke to hallowed utt'rance
    As the hushed hours swept along?

So, the heart hath much of music,
    Deep within its fountains lone,
Very passionate and tender,
    Never shaped to human tone!
Dream not that its depths are silent,

How beautiful, how beautiful,
    Beneath the morning sky,
In bridal veil of snowy mist,
    These dreamy headlands lie!
How beautiful, in soft repose,
    Upon the water's breast,
Steeped in the sunlight's golden calm,
    These fairy islets rest!

A Sabbath hush enfolds the hills,
    And broods upon the deep
Whose music every hollow fills,
    And climbs each rocky steep,
Now low and soft like love's own sigh,
    Now faint and far away,
Now plaining to the answering pines,
    With melancholy lay.

Like white-winged birds, through azure depths,
    Above the restless tide,
With snowy plume and golden crest,
    The fleecy cloudlets glide;
Their dancing shadows fleck the deep,
    Or flit above the green
Of emerald is...

Weary of dreaming what never comes true,
Weary of thinking what never is new,
Of endeav'ring, yet never succeeding to do.

Weary of walking the dusty, old ways,
Weary of saying what every one says,
Weary of singing old, obsolete lays.

Weary of laughing, to make others laugh,
Weary of gleaning for nothing but chaff,
Of giving the whole, and receiving but half.

Weary of making, so shortly to mend,
Weary of patching, to turn round and rend,
Weary of earning only to spend.

Weary of weeping when tears are so cheap,
Weary of waking when longing to sleep,
Of giving what nobody wishes to keep.

Weary of drinking to thirst ere I've done,
Weary of eating what satisfies none,
Weary of doing what still is undone.

Weary of glitte...

Yes, the weary earth shall brighten -
    Brighten in the perfect day,
And the fields that now but whiten,
    Golden glow beneath the ray!
Slowly swelling in her bosom,
    Long the precious seed has lain, -
Soon shall come the perfect blossom,
    Soon, the rich, abundant grain!

Long has been the night of weeping,
    But the morning dawns at length,
And, the misty heights o'ersweeping,
    Lo, the sun comes forth in strength!
Down the slopes of ancient mountains,
    Over plain, and vale, and stream,
Flood, and field, and sparkling fountains,
    Speeds the warm rejoicing beam!

Think not God can fail His promise!
    Think not Christ can be denied!
He shall see His spirit's travail -
    He shall yet be satisfied!
Soon the "H...