O Science reaching backward through the distance,
    Most earnest child of God,
Exposing all the secrets of existence,
    With thy divining rod,
I bid thee speed up to the heights supernal,
    Clear thinker, ne'er sufficed;
Go seek and bind the laws and truths eternal,
    But leave me Christ.

Upon the vanity of pious sages
    Let in the light of day.
Break down the superstitions of all ages -
    Thrust bigotry away;
Stride on, and bid all stubborn foes defiance
    Let Truth and Reason reign.
But I beseech thee, O Immortal Science,
    Let Christ remain.

What canst thou give to help me bear my crosses,
    In place of Him, my Lord?
And what to recompense for all my losses,
    And bring me sweet reward?
Thou couldst...

To Jesus, the Crown of my hope,
My soul is in haste to be gone:
O bear me, ye cherubim, up,
And waft me away to his throne!


My Saviour, whom absent I love,
Whom, not having seen, I adore;
Whose name is exalted above
All glory, dominion, and power;


Dissolve thou these bonds, that detain
My soul from her portion in thee;
Ah! strike off this adamant chain,
And make me eternally free.


When that happy era begins,
When array’d in thy glories I shine,
Nor grieve any more, by my sins,
The bosom on which I recline:


Oh, then shall the veil be removed,
And round me thy brightness be pour’d;
I shall meet him whom absent I loved,
I shall see whom unseen I adored.


And then, never more shall the ...

Gentle Lily with this Album my warmest wishes take,
I know its pages oft thou'lt ope and prize it for my sake,
For, though a trifling offering, it bears the magic spell
Of coming from the hand of one who loves thee passing well.

O could thy young life's course be traced by will or wish of mine,
A smiling, joyous future - a bright lot would be thine,
No cloud should mar the gladness of thy fair youth's op'ning morn,
The roses of thy girlhood should be free from blight or thorn.

Howe'er, 'tis better ordered by a Blessed Power above
Who sends us cross and trial, as a token of His Love;
For we'd cling, ah! far too closely to earthly joys and ties,
Unwilling e'er to leave them for our home beyond the skies.

As the pages of this volume, unwritten, stainless, fair,

Sweet bard, whose tones great Milton might approve,
And Shakspeare, from high Fancy's sphere,
Turning to the sound his ear,
Bend down a look of sympathy and love;
Oh, swell the lyre again,
As if in full accord it poured an angel's strain!
But oh! what means that look aghast,
Ev'n whilst it seemed in holy trance,
On scenes of bliss above to glance!
Was it a fiend of darkness passed!
Oh, speak,
Paleness is upon his cheek,
On his brow the big drops stand,
To airy vacancy
Points the dread silence of his eye,
And the loved lyre it falls, falls from his nerveless hand!
Come, peace of mind, delightful guest!
Oh, come, and make thy downy nest
Once more on his sad heart!
Meek Faith, a drop of comfort shed;
Sweet Hope, support his aged head;
And...

How bland and sweet the greeting of this breeze
To him who flies
From crowded street and red wall's weary gleam,
Till far behind him like a hideous dream
The close dark city lies

Here, while the market murmurs, while men throng
The marble floor
Of Mammon's altar, from the crush and din
Of the world's madness let me gather in
My better thoughts once more.

Oh, once again revive, while on my ear
The cry of Gain
And low hoarse hum of Traffic die away,
Ye blessed memories of my early day
Like sere grass wet with rain!

Once more let God's green earth and sunset air
Old feelings waken;
Through weary years of toil and strife and ill,
Oh, let me feel that my good angel still
Hath not his trust forsaken.

And well do time and p...

We are as mendicants who wait
Along the roadside in the sun.
Tatters of yesterday and shreds
Of morrow clothe us every one.

And some are dotards, who believe
And glory in the days of old;
While some are dreamers, harping still
Upon an unknown age of gold.

Hopeless or witless! Not one heeds,
As lavish Time comes down the way
And tosses in the suppliant hat
One great new-minted gold To-day.

Ungrateful heart and grudging thanks,
His beggar's wisdom only sees
Housing and bread and beer enough;
He knows no other things than these.

O foolish ones, put by your care!
Where wants are many, joys are few;
And at the wilding springs of peace,
God keeps an open house for you.


But that some Fortunatus' gift
Is lyi...

Thank God for rest, where none molest,
And none can make afraid;
For Peace that sits as Plenty's guest
Beneath the homestead shade!
Bring pike and gun, the sword's red scourge,
The negro's broken chains,
And beat them at the blacksmith's forge
To ploughshares for our plains.
Alike henceforth our hills of snow,
And vales where cotton flowers;
All streams that flow, all winds that blow,
Are Freedom's motive-powers.
Henceforth to Labor's chivalry
Be knightly honors paid;
For nobler than the sword's shall be
The sickle's accolade.
Build up an altar to the Lord,
O grateful hearts of ours!
And shape it of the greenest sward
That ever drank the showers.
Lay all the bloom of gardens there,
And there the orchard fruits;
Bring golden grain ...

Lord, who in mercy's tender tone
Invitest every child of dust,
To seek protection from thy throne,
And in thy guardian grace to trust.

To thy true votary impart
Hope, from all doubt, all terror free,
Make every movement of my heart
A glow of gratitude to Thee!

Not done, but near its ending,
    Is the work that our eyes desired;
Not yet fulfilled, but near the goal,
    Is the hope that our worn hearts fired.
And on the Alban Mountains,
    Where the blushes of dawn increase,
We see the flash of the beautiful feet
    Of Freedom and of Peace!

How long were our fond dreams baffled! -
    Novara's sad mischance,
The Kaiser's sword and fetter-lock,
    And the traitor stab of France;
Till at last came glorious Venice,
    In storm and tempest home;
And now God maddens the greedy kings,
    And gives to her people Rome.

Lame Lion of Caprera!
    Red-shirts of the lost campaigns!
Not idly shed was the costly blood
    You poured from generous veins.
For the shame of Aspromonte,
    An...

The Angel of the night when night was gone
High upon Heaven's ramparts, cried, "The Dawn!"

And wheeling worlds grew radiant with the one
And undiminished glory of the sun.

And Angel, Seraph, Saint and Cherubim
Raised to the morning their exultant hymn.

All Heaven thrilled anew to look upon
The great recurring miracle of dawn.

And in the little worlds beneath them--men
Rose, yawned and ate and turned to toil again.

The shadows lay along Broadway,
’T was near the twilight-tide,
And slowly there a lady fair
Was walking in her pride.
Alone walked she; but, viewlessly,
Walked spirits at her side.

Peace charmed the street beneath her feet,
And Honor charmed the air;
And all astir looked kind on her,
And called her good as fair,
For all God ever gave to her
She kept with chary care.

She kept with care her beauties rare
From lovers warm and true,
For her heart was cold to all but gold,
And the rich came not to woo,
But honored well are charms to sell
If priests the selling do.

Now walking there was one more fair,
A slight girl, lily-pale;
And she had unseen company
To make the spirit quail:
’Twixt Want and Scorn she walked forlorn...

The vision of a haloed host
That weep around an empty throne;
And, aureoles dark and angels dead,
Man with his own life stands alone.

'I am,' he says his bankrupt creed:
'I am,' and is again a clod:
The sparrow starts, the grasses stir,
For he has said the name of God.

I am glad that you have come,
    Arthur, from the dusty town;
You must throw aside your cares,
    And relax your legal frown.
Coke and Littleton, avaunt!
    You have ruled him through the day;
In this quiet, sylvan haunt,
    Be content to yield your sway.

It is pleasant, is it not,
    Sitting here beneath the trees,
While the restless wind above
    Ripples over leafy seas?

Often, when the twilight falls,
    In the shadow, quite alone,
I have sat till starlight came,
    Listening to its monotone.
Yet not always quite alone,--
    Brother, let me take the place
Just behind you now the moon
    Shines no longer in my face.

It is near two months ago
    Since I met him, as I think,
By God's mercy, when my hor...

Dearest love! when thy God shall recall thee,
Be this record inscribed on thy tomb:
Truth, and gratitude, well may applaud thee,
And all thy past virtues relume.

It shall tell--to thy sex's proud honour,
Of sufferings and trials severe,
While still, through protracted affliction,
Not a murmur escaped; but the tear

Of resignment to Heaven's high dictates,
'Twas thine, like a martyr, to shed:
That heart--all affection for others--
For thyself, uncomplainingly, bled.

Midst the storms, which misfortune had gather'd,
What an angel thou wert unto me;
In that hour, when all friendship seem'd sever'd,
Thou didst bloom like the ever-green tree!

All was gloom; and in vain had I striven,
For hope ceased a ray to impart;
When thou cam'st,...

I meant to have but modest needs,
Such as content, and heaven;
Within my income these could lie,
And life and I keep even.

But since the last included both,
It would suffice my prayer
But just for one to stipulate,
And grace would grant the pair.

And so, upon this wise I prayed, --
Great Spirit, give to me
A heaven not so large as yours,
But large enough for me.

A smile suffused Jehovah's face;
The cherubim withdrew;
Grave saints stole out to look at me,
And showed their dimples, too.

I left the place with all my might, --
My prayer away I threw;
The quiet ages picked it up,
And Judgment twinkled, too,

That one so honest be extant
As take the tale for true
That "Whatsoever you shall ask,
Itself b...

    Of old, with goodwill from the skies--
    God's message to them given--
    The angels came, a glad surprise,
    And went again to heaven.

    But now the angels are grown rare,
    Needed no more as then;
    Far lowlier messengers can bear
    God's goodwill unto men.

    Each year, the snowdrops' pallid dawn
    Breaks from the earth below;
    Light spreads, till, from the dark updrawn,
    The noontide roses glow.

    The snowdrops first--the dawning gray;
    Then out the roses burn!
    They speak their word, grow dim--away
    To holy dust return.

    Of oracles were little dearth,
    Should heaven continue dumb;
    From lowliest corners of the earth
    God's messages will come.

    In thy face...

The intellect of man is forced to choose
perfection of the life, or of the work,
And if it take the second must refuse
A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark.
When all that story's finished, what's the news?
In luck or out the toil has left its mark:
That old perplexity an empty purse,
Or the day's vanity, the night's remorse.

Until thy feet have trod the Road
Advise not wayside folk,
Nor till thy back has borne the Load
Break in upon the broke.

Chase not with undesired largesse
Of sympathy the heart
Which, knowing her own bitterness,
Presumes to dwell apart.

Employ not that glad hand to raise
The God-forgotten head
To Heaven and all the neighbours' gaze,
Cover thy mouth instead.

The quivering chin, the bitten lip,
The cold and sweating brow,
Later may yearn for fellowship,
Not now, you ass, not now!

Time, not thy ne'er so timely speech,
Life, not thy views thereon,
Shall furnish or deny to each
His consolation.

Or, if impelled to interfere,
Exhort, uplift, advise,
Lend not a base, betraying ear
To all the victim's cri...