Bitterly all day the north-east gale
Swept with a wild roaring moan,
Hurling particles of glist’ning ice
That cut to the very bone;
And a leaden and lowering sky
Threatened the frozen world;
The storm king was sternly approaching
With frosted banners unfurled.
Swept with a wild roaring moan,
Hurling particles of glist’ning ice
That cut to the very bone;
And a leaden and lowering sky
Threatened the frozen world;
The storm king was sternly approaching
With frosted banners unfurled.
Ever darker and denser it grew
As the day wore on apace,
And the swirl of the merciless winds
Tore on in a fierce, wild race.
It was a day to seek the shelter
Of home by the warm fireside;
God help the homeless at such a time
That wander far and wide!
As the day wore on apace,
And the swirl of the merciless winds
Tore on in a fierce, wild race.
It was a day to seek the shelter
Of home by the warm fireside;
God help the homeless at such a time
That wander far and wide!
Suddenly in hushed tones through the town
Ran the word from Pigeon Bay,
That the harvesters of ice were drifting
Helplessly out and away—
On an ice-floe helplessly drifting,
Detached from the wind-rifted shore,
Out over the bosom of Erie
’Mid the tempest’s ruthless roar.
Ran the word from Pigeon Bay,
That the harvesters of ice were drifting
Helplessly out and away—
On an ice-floe helplessly drifting,
Detached from the wind-rifted shore,
Out over the bosom of Erie
’Mid the tempest’s ruthless roar.
“To the rescue! the rescue!” was shouted,
And we paused with bated breath,
Close beside the rage of the waters,
Black and menacing with death.
And many a stern face grew whiter
As we saw thro’ the deadly gloom
Our friends drifting out, swiftly drifting,
Helplessly to their doom.
And we paused with bated breath,
Close beside the rage of the waters,
Black and menacing with death.
And many a stern face grew whiter
As we saw thro’ the deadly gloom
Our friends drifting out, swiftly drifting,
Helplessly to their doom.
“Launch the ‘lighter’! quick, launch the ‘lighter’!
And drift to the floe away,
O’er the swirling, desolate waters,
Out over wide Pigeon Bay.”
Thus cried the dauntless Robinson,
And instantly to his side
Sprang Conover, Miller and Cullen,
And Frank Ives in manly pride.
And drift to the floe away,
O’er the swirling, desolate waters,
Out over wide Pigeon Bay.”
Thus cried the dauntless Robinson,
And instantly to his side
Sprang Conover, Miller and Cullen,
And Frank Ives in manly pride.
“Pay out the long shore-line now swiftly,
We’ll save them at any cost;
Pay out till we reach the ice-floe,
They must not, shall not be lost.”
And they drifted before the tempest,
And gained the edge of the floe,
But the very last inch of the shore-line
Could let them no farther go.
We’ll save them at any cost;
Pay out till we reach the ice-floe,
They must not, shall not be lost.”
And they drifted before the tempest,
And gained the edge of the floe,
But the very last inch of the shore-line
Could let them no farther go.
And before the rescuers could reach them
They drifted swiftly away,
While the gallant crew of the “lighter”
Were now helpless on the bay,
With the black waves leaping over them,
Icy, and cold as death,
Stiffening their garments about them,
And congealing the very breath.
They drifted swiftly away,
While the gallant crew of the “lighter”
Were now helpless on the bay,
With the black waves leaping over them,
Icy, and cold as death,
Stiffening their garments about them,
And congealing the very breath.
We knew that their efforts were futile,
And looked in each other’s face,
And scanned the wild waste of waters,
As the gloom of night grew apace.
“Launch the sail-boat! launch the gallant Davie!”
The hero Johnston cried,
And Ives and Ralph and Herman Robson
Instantly stood by his side.
And looked in each other’s face,
And scanned the wild waste of waters,
As the gloom of night grew apace.
“Launch the sail-boat! launch the gallant Davie!”
The hero Johnston cried,
And Ives and Ralph and Herman Robson
Instantly stood by his side.
And they hoisted their ice-cold canvas,
Spread their wings and swept away,
Full three miles through the wild tempest,
Engulfed in a deadly spray.
They reached and saved the perishing,
Landed them safe on shore—
At the imminent risk of their own lives,
Gave them to their friends once more.
Spread their wings and swept away,
Full three miles through the wild tempest,
Engulfed in a deadly spray.
They reached and saved the perishing,
Landed them safe on shore—
At the imminent risk of their own lives,
Gave them to their friends once more.
And we hauled away on the shore line,
Hauled the “lighter” back through the gloom
Of the storm and approach of night-time,
Saving all from a dreadful doom.
Some cheered, and others were weeping,
And through the old town there ran
The news of the intrepid rescue—
Man’s venture for fellowman.
Hauled the “lighter” back through the gloom
Of the storm and approach of night-time,
Saving all from a dreadful doom.
Some cheered, and others were weeping,
And through the old town there ran
The news of the intrepid rescue—
Man’s venture for fellowman.
The Humane Society awarded
A medal for each manly breast,
And we pinned their badges of honor
On proudly, for such a test
Of stern endurance and heroism
Is seldom, aye, seldom seen;
And we cheered for them as ne’er before,
For our country and our Queen.
A medal for each manly breast,
And we pinned their badges of honor
On proudly, for such a test
Of stern endurance and heroism
Is seldom, aye, seldom seen;
And we cheered for them as ne’er before,
For our country and our Queen.
A PRAYER.
Father, I’ve trespassed in Thy sight,
But I’m weak and poor and sad;
My days are long and dreary,
And my soul is never glad.
My nights are dark and lonely,
And my dreams are full of pain;
I’ve wandered, oh, so long,
And toiled so long in vain.
But I’m weak and poor and sad;
My days are long and dreary,
And my soul is never glad.
My nights are dark and lonely,
And my dreams are full of pain;
I’ve wandered, oh, so long,
And toiled so long in vain.
I’d feel Thy forgiving hand
Rest kind on my stricken head
Ere the last sad sigh is breathed,
And I sleep with the quiet dead
In a dreamless, perfect rest;
No bitter, cankering care
To trouble my deep repose,
Or fill me with dark despair.
Rest kind on my stricken head
Ere the last sad sigh is breathed,
And I sleep with the quiet dead
In a dreamless, perfect rest;
No bitter, cankering care
To trouble my deep repose,
Or fill me with dark despair.
Forgive, for my burden is heavy,
And grievous, and hard to bear,
And I have no home to-night;
And around me everywhere
The chill and blight are falling,
And the way is rough and cold;
The summer of life is faded,
And I am growing old.
And grievous, and hard to bear,
And I have no home to-night;
And around me everywhere
The chill and blight are falling,
And the way is rough and cold;
The summer of life is faded,
And I am growing old.
Forgive, for my tears are falling;
I kneel at Thy sacred feet;
Lead from “the deep, dark valley,”
Where but ruin reigns complete.
Forgive, for all around me
Is the winter’s fret and moan,
And I long for summers fairer,
Near Thy great white throne.
I kneel at Thy sacred feet;
Lead from “the deep, dark valley,”
Where but ruin reigns complete.
Forgive, for all around me
Is the winter’s fret and moan,
And I long for summers fairer,
Near Thy great white throne.
THE FAREWELL.
I stood to look a last farewell
Upon our dear Dominion shore,
Ere I should turn afar to roam,
Perhaps to view it nevermore.
Upon our dear Dominion shore,
Ere I should turn afar to roam,
Perhaps to view it nevermore.
I looked upon the waters bright;
The scene recalled the times of yore,
But who can tell how I have loved
Thy waves and sands, oh, peaceful shore?
The scene recalled the times of yore,
But who can tell how I have loved
Thy waves and sands, oh, peaceful shore?
The crescent moon shone o’er the sea
And lit the dark and vaulted sky,
And touched the waves that rose and fell
In gentle murmurs like a sigh.
And lit the dark and vaulted sky,
And touched the waves that rose and fell
In gentle murmurs like a sigh.
Ah! days, sweet days, ye’ve flown away
With Aleene by the shining sea;
It was a time too fair to last—
Only a mem’ry now to me.
With Aleene by the shining sea;
It was a time too fair to last—
Only a mem’ry now to me.
For time’s relentless years went by
On voiceless, viewless, sable wing:
Ah! lost Aleene! that drooped and died
In the sweet fragrance of the spring.
On voiceless, viewless, sable wing:
Ah! lost Aleene! that drooped and died
In the sweet fragrance of the spring.
She’s resting now, to wake no more
When moon and sea are gleaming bright;
She sleeps, and I am weary now,
Away, these tears! I go; good night!
When moon and sea are gleaming bright;
She sleeps, and I am weary now,
Away, these tears! I go; good night!
FAREWELL TO SUMMER.
Farewell, thou beautiful summer,
Gliding swift from our land away;
Thy viewless winds have a murmur
And cadence of sadness to-day.
Adieu to thy laughing sunlight,
And thy skies so supremely blue;
The sigh of the breeze at twilight,
And peaceful glades starlit in dew.
Gliding swift from our land away;
Thy viewless winds have a murmur
And cadence of sadness to-day.
Adieu to thy laughing sunlight,
And thy skies so supremely blue;
The sigh of the breeze at twilight,
And peaceful glades starlit in dew.
Farewell, thy streams softly purling
Like silver threads over the lea;
Great rivers rolling onward,
Right grandly toward the sea.
Shadows steal out from the woodlands,
Lengthening day by day;
The sun sinks low in southern skies
As the summer-time drifts away.
Like silver threads over the lea;
Great rivers rolling onward,
Right grandly toward the sea.
Shadows steal out from the woodlands,
Lengthening day by day;
The sun sinks low in southern skies
As the summer-time drifts away.
The fairest and tiniest flowers
Have closed their delicate leaves,
And the harvesters have garnered
The last of their golden sheaves.
Afar in the lonely wildwood,
By hillside, bright bower and plain,
The reddened brown leaves are sifting
Fast earthward in red, red rain.
Have closed their delicate leaves,
And the harvesters have garnered
The last of their golden sheaves.
Afar in the lonely wildwood,
By hillside, bright bower and plain,
The reddened brown leaves are sifting
Fast earthward in red, red rain.
And burns the vast flaming sunset
In crimson and tawny-barred gold;
Athwart the advancing night-time
The star-gemmed skies unfold.
Sadly, aye, sad and regretful,
I list to the wild, glad strain
Of the song-birds flying southward,
Filling my heart with pain.
In crimson and tawny-barred gold;
Athwart the advancing night-time
The star-gemmed skies unfold.
Sadly, aye, sad and regretful,
I list to the wild, glad strain
Of the song-birds flying southward,
Filling my heart with pain.
And the winds are melancholy
That tread o’er the withering lea;
And mysterious tones in unison
Come up from the restless sea;
And my yearning thoughts are tender,
And fair hopes that ended in pain
Rise with the summer’s departure,
Like pale ghosts, to haunt us again.
That tread o’er the withering lea;
And mysterious tones in unison
Come up from the restless sea;
And my yearning thoughts are tender,
And fair hopes that ended in pain
Rise with the summer’s departure,
Like pale ghosts, to haunt us again.
And I sigh for summers olden,
For a time that cometh no more.
The years of the past were golden:
On memory’s dreamland shore
I buried them in deep silence;
And I shed there some burning tears,
And ever the days creep slowly
Into wearily fading years.
For a time that cometh no more.
The years of the past were golden:
On memory’s dreamland shore
I buried them in deep silence;
And I shed there some burning tears,
And ever the days creep slowly
Into wearily fading years.
REMEMBRANCE.
I’m thinking of thee to-day, Jennie,
While the spring is young and fair,
And nature’s glad songs are ringing
Along the perfumed air;
And the winds are lightly playing
O’er earth and the far blue sea,
And floods of warm golden sunlight
Crown forest, and vale, and lea.
While the spring is young and fair,
And nature’s glad songs are ringing
Along the perfumed air;
And the winds are lightly playing
O’er earth and the far blue sea,
And floods of warm golden sunlight
Crown forest, and vale, and lea.
My heart is young to-day, Jennie,
Though years and years have flown,
And delusive dreams have perished,
And many dear friends are gone.
Yet to-day I revel in fancy
At memory’s fadeless shrine,
And the thoughts that stir my bosom
Are tender and half divine.
Though years and years have flown,
And delusive dreams have perished,
And many dear friends are gone.
Yet to-day I revel in fancy
At memory’s fadeless shrine,
And the thoughts that stir my bosom
Are tender and half divine.
Over the hills to-day, Jennie,
The blooming, sun-crowned hills,
My footsteps lightly go, Jennie,
Where the pure sparkling rills
Merge in the stream’s soft murmur
The wind in its voiceful glee
Joins in the mystical music
Of nature’s own harmony.
The blooming, sun-crowned hills,
My footsteps lightly go, Jennie,
Where the pure sparkling rills
Merge in the stream’s soft murmur
The wind in its voiceful glee
Joins in the mystical music
Of nature’s own harmony.
Oh, how I sang to-day, Jennie,
The songs we loved so well;
Songs of the olden time, Jennie,
Ere we had said “farewell.”
I’m looking beyond the years, Jennie,
To a far-off golden shore,
Where life, like the fairest spring-time,
Will bloom on for evermore.
The songs we loved so well;
Songs of the olden time, Jennie,
Ere we had said “farewell.”
I’m looking beyond the years, Jennie,
To a far-off golden shore,
Where life, like the fairest spring-time,
Will bloom on for evermore.
THE WORSHIPPERS.
I stood in a wide-arched portal
That led to the house of God,
And gazed on the assembling people
As up the aisles they trod;
And as with lofty bearing,
In ranks of proud array,
With garments all resplendent,
The worshippers bowed to pray.
That led to the house of God,
And gazed on the assembling people
As up the aisles they trod;
And as with lofty bearing,
In ranks of proud array,
With garments all resplendent,
The worshippers bowed to pray.
And the lights streamed out the windows,
Streamed out like shining spears—
Sparkled gaily and scintillated
From the gleaming chandeliers—
Out on the desolate tents of night,
All tempest-tossed and wild;
Out on the glistening frost and snow,
Where drift on drift was piled.
Streamed out like shining spears—
Sparkled gaily and scintillated
From the gleaming chandeliers—
Out on the desolate tents of night,
All tempest-tossed and wild;
Out on the glistening frost and snow,
Where drift on drift was piled.
Oh, proud worshippers there assembled,
Sumptuously clad and warm,
Do you think of the homeless wanderers
Out in the pitiless storm?
Do you extend them a helping hand?
Have you sheltered, clothed and fed,
And cheered by sympathy’s magic
The soul that was almost dead?
Sumptuously clad and warm,
Do you think of the homeless wanderers
Out in the pitiless storm?
Do you extend them a helping hand?
Have you sheltered, clothed and fed,
And cheered by sympathy’s magic
The soul that was almost dead?
Do you think of the hopeless poor?
Their dwellings are chill and bare;
They are comfortless and all forlorn,
With little to eat or wear.
Do you visit them in their sorrow?
Do you help them from your store?
For Providence has ever blest you
With enough, to spare, and more.
Their dwellings are chill and bare;
They are comfortless and all forlorn,
With little to eat or wear.
Do you visit them in their sorrow?
Do you help them from your store?
For Providence has ever blest you
With enough, to spare, and more.
Do you help the struggling widow
In the fight for daily bread?
Do you succour the orphan children,
Scantily clothed and fed?
Do you visit the sick and needy,
And soothe their heartache and pain?
For encouraging words and kindness
May lift them up strong again.
In the fight for daily bread?
Do you succour the orphan children,
Scantily clothed and fed?
Do you visit the sick and needy,
And soothe their heartache and pain?
For encouraging words and kindness
May lift them up strong again.
The tall spire pointeth to heaven;
The worshippers pass within,
Heeding, perhaps, but slightly
The want, the despair, and sin
Of the great world’s unfortunate poor,
Helpless and hopeless and worn;
Tempted, fallen, and tired of life,
Its bitter neglect and scorn.
The worshippers pass within,
Heeding, perhaps, but slightly
The want, the despair, and sin
Of the great world’s unfortunate poor,
Helpless and hopeless and worn;
Tempted, fallen, and tired of life,
Its bitter neglect and scorn.
AT MIDNIGHT.
I stood tearless and lone at midnight
Near a grave by destiny made;
Deep in a vale by a lonely stream,
Where the branches drooped and swayed
In the soft night wind that breathed a sigh
To the flowers in the sheen
Of the pale moon, and the world at rest
Seemed fair as an angel’s dream.
Near a grave by destiny made;
Deep in a vale by a lonely stream,
Where the branches drooped and swayed
In the soft night wind that breathed a sigh
To the flowers in the sheen
Of the pale moon, and the world at rest
Seemed fair as an angel’s dream.
But sorrow enwrapt me at midnight
Beside my beautiful dead,
And I buried it deep for evermore,
And hope with its white wings fled.
And I wept alone at the midnight
A passion of burning tears—
I knew, the way would be rough and long
Through all the untried years.
Beside my beautiful dead,
And I buried it deep for evermore,
And hope with its white wings fled.
And I wept alone at the midnight
A passion of burning tears—
I knew, the way would be rough and long
Through all the untried years.
I stole away from that sacred place,
Where never a form was laid,
But the fairest dream my soul e’er knew
Rests in that sylvan shade.
In many lands and o’er distant seas
My restless feet have strayed;
I’ve faced the storm and battle’s rage
With courage undismayed.
Where never a form was laid,
But the fairest dream my soul e’er knew
Rests in that sylvan shade.
In many lands and o’er distant seas
My restless feet have strayed;
I’ve faced the storm and battle’s rage
With courage undismayed.
In every clime and on every sea
I vainly sought to forget,
But memory still remained the same—
A changeless, fadeless regret.
I have come again at the midnight,
After changeful, weary years,
And the scenes of the dear long ago
Fill my eyes with tender tears.
I vainly sought to forget,
But memory still remained the same—
A changeless, fadeless regret.
I have come again at the midnight,
After changeful, weary years,
And the scenes of the dear long ago
Fill my eyes with tender tears.
And I steal sometimes at the midnight
To that quiet, sacred place,
When the wind’s breath kindly caresses,
And the moon unveils her face.
I dream of the future at midnight,
A fadeless, celestial shore,
Where the lost shall be reunited,
And weariness come no more.
To that quiet, sacred place,
When the wind’s breath kindly caresses,
And the moon unveils her face.
I dream of the future at midnight,
A fadeless, celestial shore,
Where the lost shall be reunited,
And weariness come no more.
CHANGE.
Sunny were the days of childhood,
And the old home was aglow
With love of the happy faces—
A dear dream of long ago.
And the household then was perfect,
With no vacant, appealing chair,
Like a long sweet day of summer,
Breathing joyance everywhere.
And the old home was aglow
With love of the happy faces—
A dear dream of long ago.
And the household then was perfect,
With no vacant, appealing chair,
Like a long sweet day of summer,
Breathing joyance everywhere.
THOUGHTS.
Ah! why is it ever thus?
These mystical thoughts and tears
Are ever present with me
As a dream for years and years.
Is’t the voice of weary winds
In plaint o’er the blighted lea,
Rustling the autumn leaves
Adown from each faded tree?
These mystical thoughts and tears
Are ever present with me
As a dream for years and years.
Is’t the voice of weary winds
In plaint o’er the blighted lea,
Rustling the autumn leaves
Adown from each faded tree?
Or the flight of little birds,
As they pass from us away,
With their sweet notes of gladness,
That we miss from day to day?
The crickets’ ceaseless chanting
In the serried grass and flowers,
Wakening olden memories
Of the long, long silent hours?
As they pass from us away,
With their sweet notes of gladness,
That we miss from day to day?
The crickets’ ceaseless chanting
In the serried grass and flowers,
Wakening olden memories
Of the long, long silent hours?
The sombre hues that gather
O’er purpling hill and dell,
The flowing stream and fountain
Seem e’er haunted like a spell.
And many hearts are haunted,
Saddened and thoughtful grown;
Dead leaves are around them lying,
And the warmth of life is flown.
O’er purpling hill and dell,
The flowing stream and fountain
Seem e’er haunted like a spell.
And many hearts are haunted,
Saddened and thoughtful grown;
Dead leaves are around them lying,
And the warmth of life is flown.
Is it the moaning billows
That surge o’er the lonely sea
Whose mournful tones are ever
Pleading sobbingly to me
Of a brother that I loved?
Lost where the wild tempest sweeps,
Unfathomable and lone
Is the bier where he now sleeps.
That surge o’er the lonely sea
Whose mournful tones are ever
Pleading sobbingly to me
Of a brother that I loved?
Lost where the wild tempest sweeps,
Unfathomable and lone
Is the bier where he now sleeps.
And when we walk at even
Along the dim-lit shore,
We hear weird voices whisper,
“Nevermore! no, nevermore!”
There in the holy silence,
Bowed to a tender power,
Passionate dreams enfold us
In that pale, mystical hour.
Along the dim-lit shore,
We hear weird voices whisper,
“Nevermore! no, nevermore!”
There in the holy silence,
Bowed to a tender power,
Passionate dreams enfold us
In that pale, mystical hour.
We gaze far out and upward
Toward God’s great vaulted dome,
Where stars in their bright splendor
Are gleaming one by one.
They seem so pure and holy
In their calm, silvery light;
We feel subdued and lowly
’Neath their pathless flight.
Toward God’s great vaulted dome,
Where stars in their bright splendor
Are gleaming one by one.
They seem so pure and holy
In their calm, silvery light;
We feel subdued and lowly
’Neath their pathless flight.
I think it is thus with us:
The great Creator’s power
Is ever present with us
In leaf, and tree, and flower.
The sighing of the lone winds,
And the moaning of the sea,
All join in one grand anthem
Of the great eternity.
The great Creator’s power
Is ever present with us
In leaf, and tree, and flower.
The sighing of the lone winds,
And the moaning of the sea,
All join in one grand anthem
Of the great eternity.
SPRING.
The spring has come! Once more I hear
The song-birds carol free,
The gentle winds play o’er my brow
In whisp’ring melody.
A glad refrain from hill and dell,
From mountain, stream, and sea,
Pours joyously o’er all the land,
From winter’s shackles free.
The song-birds carol free,
The gentle winds play o’er my brow
In whisp’ring melody.
A glad refrain from hill and dell,
From mountain, stream, and sea,
Pours joyously o’er all the land,
From winter’s shackles free.
Alternate suns and April rains,
Distilling dews at even,
Will deck in verdure all the land;
And just as fair as Eden
Will bud and bloom the forest glades.
Vales and leafless bowers
Will spring into new life again,
Enwreathed with fairest flowers.
Distilling dews at even,
Will deck in verdure all the land;
And just as fair as Eden
Will bud and bloom the forest glades.
Vales and leafless bowers
Will spring into new life again,
Enwreathed with fairest flowers.
Sing on, sing on, glad voice of Spring!
Wake, wake, the song again!
A jubilee of joy shout forth
From mountain, stream, and plain.
O human hearts, by care oppressed,
Rise up! rise up! and o’er
This joyous time, so pure and young,
Renew thy strength once more.
Wake, wake, the song again!
A jubilee of joy shout forth
From mountain, stream, and plain.
O human hearts, by care oppressed,
Rise up! rise up! and o’er
This joyous time, so pure and young,
Renew thy strength once more.
REGRET.
A tender, delicate kiss given me long ago,
A wistful look from the deep blue eyes,
That set my sensitive yearning heart aglow
With dreams of an earthly paradise.
But we drifted far apart, my love and I,
For the world is cold and hearts must break;
And in vain were tears and the weary sigh—
They said it was best for her dear sake.
A wistful look from the deep blue eyes,
That set my sensitive yearning heart aglow
With dreams of an earthly paradise.
But we drifted far apart, my love and I,
For the world is cold and hearts must break;
And in vain were tears and the weary sigh—
They said it was best for her dear sake.
IN MEMORIAM.
One more tender, fragile flower
Faded from our sight to-day,
Just as spring-time’s buds and blossoms
Ushered in the bloom of May.
She had lingered, fading slowly,
Till the op’ning of the day;
’Mid its radiant, dewy fragrance,
Her sweet spirit soared away.
Faded from our sight to-day,
Just as spring-time’s buds and blossoms
Ushered in the bloom of May.
She had lingered, fading slowly,
Till the op’ning of the day;
’Mid its radiant, dewy fragrance,
Her sweet spirit soared away.
We’ve sung her last sad requiem,
Closed the eyes that lost their sight—
Eyes that beamed with love and beauty,
Eyes that shone with holy light.
Ah, how many hearts will miss thee,
Miss thy smile and gentle tone;
Life’s but emptiness and shadow
When the loved and lost are gone.
Closed the eyes that lost their sight—
Eyes that beamed with love and beauty,
Eyes that shone with holy light.
Ah, how many hearts will miss thee,
Miss thy smile and gentle tone;
Life’s but emptiness and shadow
When the loved and lost are gone.
In the graveyard on the upland
That o’erlooks an inland sea,
Where the flowers bloom in beauty,
Where the birds sing wild and free:
In the grave we sadly laid her
At the quiet eventide,
And the thoughts that filled our bosoms
Breathed of prayer and faith sublime.
That o’erlooks an inland sea,
Where the flowers bloom in beauty,
Where the birds sing wild and free:
In the grave we sadly laid her
At the quiet eventide,
And the thoughts that filled our bosoms
Breathed of prayer and faith sublime.
She’s not dead, she only sleepeth
From the cares of earthly strife;
She’ll arise more fair and perfect
To a grander, nobler life.
If we follow in her footsteps,
We, too, may the goal attain:
Just beyond the Stygian river
Blooms a life that’s not in vain.
From the cares of earthly strife;
She’ll arise more fair and perfect
To a grander, nobler life.
If we follow in her footsteps,
We, too, may the goal attain:
Just beyond the Stygian river
Blooms a life that’s not in vain.
THE PARTING.
I never deemed we thus should sever,
Two hearts that vowed to love forever;
I never thought in this proud, selfish world,
That love so soon her soft white wings furled.
Our parting I remember yet too well:
The budding spring was decking earth once more,
The birds were singing in the quiet dell,
The south winds sighed along the rippling shore.
Two hearts that vowed to love forever;
I never thought in this proud, selfish world,
That love so soon her soft white wings furled.
Our parting I remember yet too well:
The budding spring was decking earth once more,
The birds were singing in the quiet dell,
The south winds sighed along the rippling shore.
We stood where fragrant violets grew
Beside thy cottage door;
The early dawn soft glances threw
The lovely landscape o’er.
I took thy hand, it quivered not;
Thy face was calm and cold;
You knew not then the storm of grief
That o’er my spirit rolled.
Beside thy cottage door;
The early dawn soft glances threw
The lovely landscape o’er.
I took thy hand, it quivered not;
Thy face was calm and cold;
You knew not then the storm of grief
That o’er my spirit rolled.
One impassioned kiss I pressed
Upon thy lovely brow,
But thou turn’st coldly from my side—
How strangely changed wert thou!
We parted, and we ne’er have met
Since then, long years ago;
But still I dream, and dream of thee—
Sad thoughts will backward flow.
Upon thy lovely brow,
But thou turn’st coldly from my side—
How strangely changed wert thou!
We parted, and we ne’er have met
Since then, long years ago;
But still I dream, and dream of thee—
Sad thoughts will backward flow.
Since then I’ve wandered far and wide
O’er earth and stormy sea,
And mingled in the world’s deep strife,
But still I think of thee.
The human heart I trust no more;
Sweet smile or voice’s tone
Are but an echo on the shore
Of dreams that long have flown.
O’er earth and stormy sea,
And mingled in the world’s deep strife,
But still I think of thee.
The human heart I trust no more;
Sweet smile or voice’s tone
Are but an echo on the shore
Of dreams that long have flown.
Thus it is with many a one
In the world’s hurry and strife:
Deserted and ever alone,
They end a weary life.
Hoping not and trusting never,
Waifs on the sea of time;
Longing, aye, longing forever
For something more divine.
In the world’s hurry and strife:
Deserted and ever alone,
They end a weary life.
Hoping not and trusting never,
Waifs on the sea of time;
Longing, aye, longing forever
For something more divine.
TO THE WANDERER.
It is years since we met, my brother,
Years of more loss than gain;
I wonder as I sit by the fire
If we e’er shall meet again.
I’m tired of time’s ceaseless changes,
And longing as ne’er before
For the faces I knew in childhood,
And smiles that greet me no more.
Years of more loss than gain;
I wonder as I sit by the fire
If we e’er shall meet again.
I’m tired of time’s ceaseless changes,
And longing as ne’er before
For the faces I knew in childhood,
And smiles that greet me no more.
And I sigh for a time long vanished,
And weep o’er my life’s lost cause.
Ah! the battle was long and doubtful,
With never a lull nor pause
In the long strife fierce and vengeful;
And swept from the fateful field
Was my torn and toil-stained banner
When at last I was forced to yield.
And weep o’er my life’s lost cause.
Ah! the battle was long and doubtful,
With never a lull nor pause
In the long strife fierce and vengeful;
And swept from the fateful field
Was my torn and toil-stained banner
When at last I was forced to yield.
I am thinking to-night, my brother,
We two may clasp hands once more,
And sing the songs of the olden time,
And wander there as of yore
Over the hills long, long forsaken,
And by paths that are o’ergrown;
By many a nook and quiet vale
Bordering our dear old home.
We two may clasp hands once more,
And sing the songs of the olden time,
And wander there as of yore
Over the hills long, long forsaken,
And by paths that are o’ergrown;
By many a nook and quiet vale
Bordering our dear old home.
We may seek the stream in the meadow,
And wander on through the glade,
And revel again in joyousness
In the woodland’s grateful shade;
And hear in fancy our father’s voice,
And our mother’s cheerful call
To the noon-tide rest and welcome cheer
Lovingly prepared for all.
And wander on through the glade,
And revel again in joyousness
In the woodland’s grateful shade;
And hear in fancy our father’s voice,
And our mother’s cheerful call
To the noon-tide rest and welcome cheer
Lovingly prepared for all.
Ah! to-night in this dreary northland,
How the wild wind sweeps and moans
Through the lone forest bare and ghostly,
That awesomely rocks and groans!
Madly it leaps o’er the white, dead hills,
Sweeping fiercely the plain afar;
And there is no light of pale, cold moon,
Nor yet of wandering star.
How the wild wind sweeps and moans
Through the lone forest bare and ghostly,
That awesomely rocks and groans!
Madly it leaps o’er the white, dead hills,
Sweeping fiercely the plain afar;
And there is no light of pale, cold moon,
Nor yet of wandering star.
Far away in the sunny southland,
Where the breeze steals o’er the sea,
Toying with foliage and flowers,
And where wild birds carol free,
There, brother, thy feet are wandering;
And over my stricken head
Old memories are fondly crowding
Of the living and the dead.
Where the breeze steals o’er the sea,
Toying with foliage and flowers,
And where wild birds carol free,
There, brother, thy feet are wandering;
And over my stricken head
Old memories are fondly crowding
Of the living and the dead.
LULA BY THE SEA.
A SONG.
In the loveliest springtime,
’Neath a willow tree,
There we laid poor Lula
Near the sighing sea,
That the birds might warble
Sweetly o’er her tomb;
That the flowers in beauty
There might ever bloom.
’Neath a willow tree,
There we laid poor Lula
Near the sighing sea,
That the birds might warble
Sweetly o’er her tomb;
That the flowers in beauty
There might ever bloom.
CHORUS.
Yes, by the sobbing sea we’ve laid her,
Near its waters flow,
Where the sad waves are ever breathing
Music deep and low.
Near its waters flow,
Where the sad waves are ever breathing
Music deep and low.
When the shadowy twilight
Gathered o’er the lea,
And the stars of heaven
Were beaming on the sea,
Then with gentle Lula
Oft we silent strayed
By the murmuring waters
Where the moonlight played.
Gathered o’er the lea,
And the stars of heaven
Were beaming on the sea,
Then with gentle Lula
Oft we silent strayed
By the murmuring waters
Where the moonlight played.
Now no more with Lula
On the ocean’s shore;
When the breeze is dying
Lula comes no more.
Gone to rest forever
In her beauty’s bloom,
’Neath a dark green willow,
In the silent tomb.
On the ocean’s shore;
When the breeze is dying
Lula comes no more.
Gone to rest forever
In her beauty’s bloom,
’Neath a dark green willow,
In the silent tomb.
I am growing weary
Watching here alone,
For my darling Lula
Nevermore will come.
Yet a voice is ever
Whisp’ring unto me
That there are no partings
Beyond life’s mystic sea.
Watching here alone,
For my darling Lula
Nevermore will come.
Yet a voice is ever
Whisp’ring unto me
That there are no partings
Beyond life’s mystic sea.
TIRED.
Tired of the past and present,
For the slowly fading years
Have brought so little of joyance,
So many sorrows and tears.
Tired of fighting life’s battle
Between evil and the good;
Tired, so tired of living
And being misunderstood.
For the slowly fading years
Have brought so little of joyance,
So many sorrows and tears.
Tired of fighting life’s battle
Between evil and the good;
Tired, so tired of living
And being misunderstood.
The path of life to the present
Has been hard and rough all the way;
My feet are worn and bleeding,
And burdened from day to day
With a load that never grows lighter;
And hope dying with the years
Of toil and disappointment,
Life’s bitterness, pains, and tears.
Has been hard and rough all the way;
My feet are worn and bleeding,
And burdened from day to day
With a load that never grows lighter;
And hope dying with the years
Of toil and disappointment,
Life’s bitterness, pains, and tears.
Tired of the cold surroundings
Of folly, ambition, and pride;
The glint, the glitter, and falseness
Alluring on every side.
Tired of my own sad longings
For blessings I never knew:
A love that is deep and changeless,
A friend that is ever true.
Of folly, ambition, and pride;
The glint, the glitter, and falseness
Alluring on every side.
Tired of my own sad longings
For blessings I never knew:
A love that is deep and changeless,
A friend that is ever true.
Tired of the stony glances
Of eyes cold as pale death,
Where charity never lingers,
And with their icicle breath
They blight and wither the blooms
Enshrined in the human heart;
The bright hopes and aspirations
Of our life a very part.
Of eyes cold as pale death,
Where charity never lingers,
And with their icicle breath
They blight and wither the blooms
Enshrined in the human heart;
The bright hopes and aspirations
Of our life a very part.
Life’s like the sea, ever restless,
Limitless, deep, and wide,
Where many gallant ships go down
Battling ’gainst storm and tide;
Whilst others sail gaily afar
’Mid beautiful isles of song,
O’er blue and sunny wreathed seas,
Where pleasures innumerable throng.
Limitless, deep, and wide,
Where many gallant ships go down
Battling ’gainst storm and tide;
Whilst others sail gaily afar
’Mid beautiful isles of song,
O’er blue and sunny wreathed seas,
Where pleasures innumerable throng.
Tired of watching and waiting
The dawn of a happier day;
Will the night with gloom and sadness
Nevermore pass away?
If there’s aught in the mystic future
Of reward for the dreary past,
Will the wayworn, weary wanderer
Find rest and peace at last?
The dawn of a happier day;
Will the night with gloom and sadness
Nevermore pass away?
If there’s aught in the mystic future
Of reward for the dreary past,
Will the wayworn, weary wanderer
Find rest and peace at last?
THE LOST FLOWER.
Why do I ever dream of thee?
In vain are thy dreamings, O memory;
Why sit in sorrow—others are gay—
Restless and grieving, as day follows day?
In vain are thy dreamings, O memory;
Why sit in sorrow—others are gay—
Restless and grieving, as day follows day?
Bright as the morn sparkling in dew,
Blooming with roses’ beauteous hue;
Pure as an angel, artless and true,
Smiling in gladness, loving me too.
Blooming with roses’ beauteous hue;
Pure as an angel, artless and true,
Smiling in gladness, loving me too.
When o’er the lea with silent wing
Summer was stealing flowers of spring,
In a sweet valley, where willows wave
O’er faded blossom, made we her grave.
Summer was stealing flowers of spring,
In a sweet valley, where willows wave
O’er faded blossom, made we her grave.
I’m only waiting for that blest hour
When I shall rest with my lost flower,
Waking at last where the perfect day
In loveliness shall fade not away.
When I shall rest with my lost flower,
Waking at last where the perfect day
In loveliness shall fade not away.
DRIFTING.
The day has gone and the night is come,
Dreary, dreary, dreary;
And hope is dying within my breast,
Weary, weary, weary.
Dreary, dreary, dreary;
And hope is dying within my breast,
Weary, weary, weary.
The pitiless winds sweep the earth in wrath,
Drifting, drifting, drifting
The fierce white snow, with a wail of woe,
Over the wild, dark reaches sifting.
Drifting, drifting, drifting
The fierce white snow, with a wail of woe,
Over the wild, dark reaches sifting.
I sit by the dim, forsaken hearth,
Thinking, thinking, thinking
Of a love that ne’er can come to me;
Shrinking, shrinking, shrinking
From the cold clasp of a fateful hand
That shadowed all the years.
Thinking, thinking, thinking
Of a love that ne’er can come to me;
Shrinking, shrinking, shrinking
From the cold clasp of a fateful hand
That shadowed all the years.
Dreary without, and dreary within,
Dying, dying, dying
Is the last hope of a broken life
That can love and trust no more.
Dying, dying, dying
Is the last hope of a broken life
That can love and trust no more.