I.


My two-score years and ten are over,
Never again shall youth be mine.
The years are ready-winged for flying,
What crav'st thou still of feast and wine?
Wilt thou still court man's acclamation,
Forgetting what the Lord hath said?
And forfeiting thy weal eternal,
By thine own guilty heart misled?
Shalt thou have never done with folly,
Still fresh and new must it arise?
Oh heed it not, heed not the senses,
But follow God, be meek and wise;
Yea, profit by thy days remaining,
They hurry swiftly to the goal.
Be zealous in the Lord's high service,
And banish falsehood from thy soul.
Use all thy strength, use all thy fervor,
Defy thine own desires, awaken!
Be not afraid when seas are foaming,
And earth to her foundations shak...

    A new year dawning on a warring world!
        And many fight, and many pray for peace;
        But yet the roar of battle will not cease,
    Still man against his brother man is hurled.

    So we who wait - we women in our woe,
        Who wait and work - who wait, and work, and weep -
        For us there is no rest, for us no sleep,
    As our sad thoughts are wandering grim and slow,

    Across those dreary fields where far away
        Our hero myriads bleed and burn and die,
        We lift our hearts toward the pitying sky -
    Dawns there no hope upon this New Year's day?

    1915

It is a pity and a shame - alas! alas! I know it is,
To tread the trodden grapes again, but so it has been, so it is;
The purple vintage long is past, with ripened clusters bursting so
They filled the wine-vats to the brim,-'t is strange you will be thirsting so!

Too well our faithful memory tells what might be rhymed or sung about,
For all have sighed and some have wept since last year's snows were flung about;
The beacon flame that fired the sky, the modest ray that gladdened us,
A little breath has quenched their light, and deepening shades have saddened us.

No more our brother's life is ours for cheering or for grieving us,
One only sadness they bequeathed, the sorrow of their leaving us;
Farewell! Farewell! - I turn the leaf I read my chiming measure in;
Who knows but...

Above our dear Romancer’s dust
Grief takes the place of praise,
Because of sudden cypress thrust
Amid the old-earned bays.

Ah! when shall such another friend
By England’s fireside sit,
To tell her of her faults, yet blend
Sage words with kindly wit?

He brings no pageants of the past
To wile our hearts away;
But wins our love for those who cast
Their lot with ours to-day.

He gives us laughter glad and long;
He gives us tears as pure;
He shames us with the published wrong
We meted to the poor.

Through webs and dust and weather-stains,
His sunlike genius paints,
On life’s transfigured chancel-panes,
The angels and the saints.

He bade us to a lordly feast,
And gave us of his best;
And vanished, while the ...

Gray earth, gray mist, gray sky:
Through vapors hurrying by,
Larger than wont, on high
    Floats the horned, yellow moon.
Chill airs are faintly stirred,
And far away is heard,
Of some fresh-awakened bird,
    The querulous, shrill tune.


The dark mist hides the face
Of the dim land: no trace
Of rock or river's place
    In the thick air is drawn;
But dripping grass smells sweet,
And rustling branches meet,
And sounding water greet
    The slow, sure, sacred dawn.


Past is the long black night,
With its keen lightnings white,
Thunder and floods: new light
    The glimmering low east streaks.
The dense clouds part: between
Their jagged rents are seen
Pale reaches blue and green,
    As the mirk curtain b...

Before this thought the present hour recedes,
As from the beach a billow backward rolls,
And the great past, rich in heroic deeds
Illuminates our souls!

Stern Massachusetts Bay uplifts her form,
Boston the tale of Lexington repeats,
With breast unarmored she confronts the storm -
New England England meets.

I see the Middle Group by Fortune made
The bloody Flanders of the Northern Coast,
And, in a varying play of light and shade,
Host thundering fall on host.

I see the Carolinas, Georgia, mowed
By War the Reaper, and grim Ruin stalk
O'er wasted fields; - but Guilford paved the way
        That led to this same York.

Here, too, Virginia in the vision comes -
Full-bent to crown the battle's closing arch,
Her pulses trumpets and h...

Of all the Christian virtues chief
With modest charms, and mild relief,
Most apt to heal the wounds of pride, and spleen,
To thee, humility; I bend;
O let me feel, thou art my friend!
Rule thou my bosom, as its gentle queen!

'Tis thine benignly to repress
All proud conceit, all vain excess;
To give the chasten'd mind its proper tone;
To make it keep in sight
The worth of others with delight,
And never look too fondly on its own.

Teach me, with active zeal, to wake
At nature's sigh, for pity's sake,
When pride in dreams of apathy will nod!
Still guided by thy Christian breath,
Keep me, thro' scenes of life, and death,
To mortals kind, and dutiful to God.

Spirit, bright spirit! from thy narrow cell
    Answer me! answer me! oh, let me hear
    Thy voice, and know that thou indeed art near!
That from the bonds in which thou'rt forced to dwell
    Thou hast not broken free, thou art not fled,
    Thou hast not pined away, thou art not dead.
Speak to me through thy prison bars; my life
With all things round, is one eternal strife,
'Mid whose wild din I pause to hear thy voice;
    Speak to me, look on me, thou born of light!
That I may know thou'rt with me, and rejoice.
Shall not this weary warfare pass away?
Shall there not come a better, brighter day?
    Shall not thy chain and mine be broken quite,
        And thou to heaven spring,
        With thine immortal wing,
        And I, still following,
       ...

Blest Ruler, at whose word
The universe was stirred,
    And there was light;
Look now with gracious love
From Thy bright home above,
Direct in every move,
    Each proved, Sir Knight.

In mysteries well skilled,
Their hearts with courage filled,
    Behold they stand;
Strengthen their faith in thee,
Let hope their anchor be,
And heaven-born charity
    Mark their command.

Endure with holy light
Each suppliant, Sir Knight;
    May each one prove
Faithful in watch and word;
Strong the oppressed, to guard
And win the just reward
    Of Faith and Love.

AS a strong bird on pinions free,
Joyous, the amplest spaces heavenward cleaving,
Such be the thought I'd think to-day of thee, America,
Such be the recitative I'd bring to-day for thee.

The conceits of the poets of other lands I bring thee not,
Nor the compliments that have served their turn so long,
Nor rhyme--nor the classics--nor perfume of foreign court, or indoor library;
But an odor I'd bring to-day as from forests of pine in the north, in
Maine--or breath of an Illinois prairie,
With open airs of Virginia, or Georgia, or Tennessee--or from Texas uplands, or Florida's glades,
With presentment of Yellowstone's scenes, or Yosemite; 10
And murmuring under, pervading all, I'd bring the rustling sea-sound,
That endlessly sounds from the two great seas of the world.
<...

That morn our hearts were like artesian wells,
Both deep and calm, and brimming with pure love.
And in each one, like to an April day,
Truth smiled and wept, while Courage wound his horn,
Dispatching echoes that are whispering still
Through all the vacant chambers of our souls;
While Sorrow sat with drooped and aimless wing,
Within the solitary fane of thought.
We wished some warlike Joshua were there
To make the sun stand still, or to put back
The dial to the brighter side of time.
A cloud hung over Couchiching; a cloud
Eclipsed the merry sunshine of our hearts.
We needed no philosopher to teach
That laughter is not always born of joy.
"All's for the best," the fair Eliza said;
And we derived new courage from her lips,
That spake the maxim of her trustin...

'Twas not a palace proud and fair
    He chose for His first home;
No dazz'ling pile of grandeur rare,
    With pillar'd hall and dome;
Oh no! a stable, rude and poor,
    Received Him at His birth;
And thus was born, unknown, obscure,
    The Lord of Heaven and Earth.

No band of anxious menials there,
    To tend the new-born child,
Joseph alone and Mary fair
    Upon the infant smiled;
No broidered linens fine had they
    Those little limbs to fold,
No baby garments rich and gay,
    No tissues wrought with gold.

Come to your Saviour's lowly bed,
    Ye vain and proud of heart!
And learn with bowed and humbled head
    The lesson 'twill impart;
'Twill teach you not to prize too high
    The riches vain of earth -
Bu...

Now we are tired of boisterous joy,
Have romped enough, my little Boy!
Jane hangs her head upon my breast,
And you shall bring your stool and rest;
This corner is your own.

There! take your seat, and let me see
That you can listen quietly:
And, as I promised, I will tell
That strange adventure which befell
A poor blind Highland Boy.

A 'Highland' Boy!, why call him so?
Because, my Darlings, ye must know
That, under hills which rise like towers,
Far higher hills than these of ours!
He from his birth had lived.

He ne'er had seen one earthly sight
The sun, the day; the stars, the night;
Or tree, or butterfly, or flower,
Or fish in stream, or bird in bower,
Or woman, man, or child.

And yet he neither drooped nor pined,

"Let us now go even unto Bethlehem."

O Night of nights! O night
    Desired of man so long!
The ancient heavens fled forth in light
    To sing thee thy new song;
And shooting down the steep,
    To shepherd folk of old,
An angel, while they watch'd their sheep,
    Set foot beside the fold.

Lo! while as like to die
    Of that keen light he shed,
They look'd on his pure majesty,
    Amazed, and sore bestead;
Lo! while with words of cheer
    He bade their trembling cease,
The flocks of God swept sweetly near,
    And sang to them of peace.

All on the hillside grass
    That fulgent radiance fell,
So close those innocents did pass,
    Their words were heard right well;
Among the sheep, their wings
    Som...

I

Now, in the thousandth year,
When April's near,
Now comes it that the great ones of the earth
Take all their mirth
Away with them, far off, to orchard-places,--
Nor they nor Solomon arrayed like these,--
To sun themselves at ease;
To breathe of wind-swept spaces;
To see some miracle of leafy graces;--
To catch the out-flowing rapture of the trees.
Considering the lilies.
                                            --Yes. And when
Shall they consider Men?

            (O showering May-clad tree,
            Bear yet awhile with me.)


II

For now at last, they have beheld the trees.
Lo, even these!--
The men of sounding laughter and low fears;
The women of light laughter, and no tears;
The great ones o...

The book of life to thee is given,
To warn of death, to guide to Heaven.
Wanderer on the wild astray,
Here wilt thou find the King's highway.
Has thy soul suffered, hunger, pain,
Trying to feed on husks in vain?
Here thou wilt find the palace fair,
Where there is bread enough to spare
Thou'lt find where living waters roll,
To satisfy the fainting soul.
Thou hast been thirsty, very sore,
Here come and drink and thirst no more,
Thou'lt find the pearl of greatest price
Hid in the Master's promises.
And so this book to thee is given
To warn of hell, to guide to Heaven.

GRACE HILL, 1842.

I.

Not without envy Wealth at times must look
On their brown strength who wield the reaping-hook."
And scythe, or at the forge-fire shape the plough
Or the steel harness of the steeds of steam;
All who, by skill and patience, anyhow
Make service noble, and the earth redeem
From savageness. By kingly accolade
Than theirs was never worthier knighthood made.
Well for them, if, while demagogues their vain
And evil counsels proffer, they maintain
Their honest manhood unseduced, and wage
No war with Labor's right to Labor's gain
Of sweet home-comfort, rest of hand and brain,
And softer pillow for the head of Age.

II.

And well for Gain if it ungrudging yields
Labor its just demand; and well for Ease
If in the uses of its own, it sees
...

Ye love, and sonnets write! Fate's strange behest!

The heart, its hidden meaning to declare,

Must seek for rhymes, uniting pair with pair:
Learn, children, that the will is weak, at best.

Scarcely with freedom the o'erflowing breast

As yet can speak, and well may it beware;

Tempestuous passions sweep each chord that's there,
Then once more sink to night and gentle rest.

Why vex yourselves and us, the heavy stone

Up the steep path but step by step to roll?

It falls again, and ye ne'er cease to strive.

THE LOVERS.

But we are on the proper road alone!

If gladly is to thaw the frozen soul,

The fire of love must aye be kept alive.