Go fix thy restless mind
On learning's lore and wisdom's might,
And live to bless mankind.
The sword is sheathed, 'tis freedom's hour,
No despot bears misrule,
Where knowledge plants the foot of power
In our God-blessed free school.
Forth from this fount the streamlets flow,
That widen in their course.
Hero and sage arise to show
Science the mighty source,
And laud the land whose talents rock
The cradle of her power,
And wreaths are twined round Plymouth Rock,
From erudition's bower.
That widen in their course.
Hero and sage arise to show
Science the mighty source,
And laud the land whose talents rock
The cradle of her power,
And wreaths are twined round Plymouth Rock,
From erudition's bower.
THE COUNTRY-SEAT
In bowers of beauty,—I bend to thy lay,
And woo, while I worship in deep sylvan spot,
The Muses' soft echoes to kindle the grot.
Wake chords of my lyre, with musical kiss,
To vibrate and tremble with accents of bliss.
Here morning peers out, from her crimson repose,
On proud Prairie Queen and the modest Moss-rose;
And vesper reclines—when the dewdrop is shed
On the heart of the pink—in its odorous bed;
But Flora has stolen the rainbow and sky,
To sprinkle the flowers with exquisite dye.
On proud Prairie Queen and the modest Moss-rose;
And vesper reclines—when the dewdrop is shed
On the heart of the pink—in its odorous bed;
But Flora has stolen the rainbow and sky,
To sprinkle the flowers with exquisite dye.
Here fame-honored hickory rears his bold form,
And bares a brave breast to the lightning and storm,
While palm, bay, and laurel, in classical glee,
Chase tulip, magnolia, and fragrant fringe-tree;
And sturdy horse-chestnut for centuries hath given
Its feathery blossom and branches to heaven.
And bares a brave breast to the lightning and storm,
While palm, bay, and laurel, in classical glee,
Chase tulip, magnolia, and fragrant fringe-tree;
And sturdy horse-chestnut for centuries hath given
Its feathery blossom and branches to heaven.
Here is life! Here is youth! Here the poet's world-wish,—
Cool waters at play with the gold-gleaming fish;
While cactus a mellower glory receives
From light colored softly by blossom and leaves;
And nestling alder is whispering low,
In lap of the pear-tree, with musical flow.[1]
Cool waters at play with the gold-gleaming fish;
While cactus a mellower glory receives
From light colored softly by blossom and leaves;
And nestling alder is whispering low,
In lap of the pear-tree, with musical flow.[1]
Dark sentinel hedgerow is guarding repose,
Midst grotto and songlet and streamlet that flows
Where beauty and perfume from buds burst away,
And ope their closed cells to the bright, laughing day;
Yet, dwellers in Eden, earth yields you her tear,—
Oft plucked for the banquet, but laid on the bier.
Midst grotto and songlet and streamlet that flows
Where beauty and perfume from buds burst away,
And ope their closed cells to the bright, laughing day;
Yet, dwellers in Eden, earth yields you her tear,—
Oft plucked for the banquet, but laid on the bier.
Earth's beauty and glory delude as the shrine
Or fount of real joy and of visions divine;
But hope, as the eaglet that spurneth the sod,
May soar above matter, to fasten on God,
And freely adore all His spirit hath made,
Where rapture and radiance and glory ne'er fade.
Or fount of real joy and of visions divine;
But hope, as the eaglet that spurneth the sod,
May soar above matter, to fasten on God,
And freely adore all His spirit hath made,
Where rapture and radiance and glory ne'er fade.
Oh, give me the spot where affection may dwell
In sacred communion with home's magic spell!
Where flowers of feeling are fragrant and fair,
And those we most love find a happiness rare;
But clouds are a presage,—they darken my lay:
This life is a shadow, and hastens away.
In sacred communion with home's magic spell!
Where flowers of feeling are fragrant and fair,
And those we most love find a happiness rare;
But clouds are a presage,—they darken my lay:
This life is a shadow, and hastens away.
[1] An alder growing from the bent branch of a pear-tree.
TO ELLEN. "SING ME THAT SONG!"
Life's pulses move fitful and slow;
A meeting with loved ones in dreams I have had,
Whose robes were as spotless as snow:
A phantom of joy, it fled with the light,
And left but a parting in air.
My soul is enchained to life's dreary night,
O sing me "Sweet hour of prayer"!
Ah, sleep, twin sister of death and of night!
My thoughts 'neath thy drap'ry still lie.
Alas! that from dreams so boundless and bright
We waken to life's dreary sigh.
Those moments most sweet are fleetest alway,
For love claspeth earth's raptures not long,
Till darkness and death like mist melt away,
To rise to a seraph's new song.
My thoughts 'neath thy drap'ry still lie.
Alas! that from dreams so boundless and bright
We waken to life's dreary sigh.
Those moments most sweet are fleetest alway,
For love claspeth earth's raptures not long,
Till darkness and death like mist melt away,
To rise to a seraph's new song.
O'er ocean or Alps, the stranger who roams
But gathers a wreath for his bier;
For life hath its music in low minor tones,
And man is the cause of its tear.
But drops of pure nectar our brimming cup fill,
When we walk by that murmuring stream;
Or when, like the thrill of that mountain rill,
Your songs float in memory's dream.
But gathers a wreath for his bier;
For life hath its music in low minor tones,
And man is the cause of its tear.
But drops of pure nectar our brimming cup fill,
When we walk by that murmuring stream;
Or when, like the thrill of that mountain rill,
Your songs float in memory's dream.
Sweet spirit of love, at soft eventide
Wake gently the chords of her lyre,
And whisper of one who sat by her side
To join with the neighboring choir;
And tell how that heart is silent and sad,
No melody sweeps o'er its strings!
'Tis breaking alone, but a young heart and glad—
Might cheer it, perchance, when she sings.
Wake gently the chords of her lyre,
And whisper of one who sat by her side
To join with the neighboring choir;
And tell how that heart is silent and sad,
No melody sweeps o'er its strings!
'Tis breaking alone, but a young heart and glad—
Might cheer it, perchance, when she sings.
Lynn, Mass., August 25, 1866.
LINES, ON VISITING PINE GROVE CEMETERY
Grow cold in this spot as the spiritless clay,
And thought be at work with the long-buried hours,
And tears be bedewing these fresh-smiling flowers!
Ah, wherefore the memory of dear ones deemed dead
Should bow thee, as winds bow the tall willow's head!
Beside you they walk while you weep, and but pass
From your sight as the shade o'er the dark wavy grass.
Should bow thee, as winds bow the tall willow's head!
Beside you they walk while you weep, and but pass
From your sight as the shade o'er the dark wavy grass.
The cypress may mourn with her evergreen tears,
And, like the blue hyacinth, change not with years;
Yea, flowers of feeling may blossom above,
To yield earth the fragrance of goodness and love;
And, like the blue hyacinth, change not with years;
Yea, flowers of feeling may blossom above,
To yield earth the fragrance of goodness and love;
So one heart is left me—she breathes in my ear,
"I'm living to bless thee; for this are we here."
And when this sweet pledge to my lone heart was given,
Earth held but this joy, or this happiness heaven!
"I'm living to bless thee; for this are we here."
And when this sweet pledge to my lone heart was given,
Earth held but this joy, or this happiness heaven!
Here the rock and the sea and the tall waving pine
Enchant deep the senses,—subduing, sublime;
Yet stronger than these is the spell that hath power
To sweep o'er the heartstrings in memory's hour.
Enchant deep the senses,—subduing, sublime;
Yet stronger than these is the spell that hath power
To sweep o'er the heartstrings in memory's hour.
Of the past 'tis the talisman, when we three met,
When the star of our friendship arose not to set;
And pure as its rising, and bright as the star,
Be its course through our heavens, whether near or afar.
When the star of our friendship arose not to set;
And pure as its rising, and bright as the star,
Be its course through our heavens, whether near or afar.
Lynn, Mass., August 24, 1865.
A VERSE
Mother's New Year Gift to the Little Children
Loving me,—
Guard me when I sleep;
Guide my little feet
Up to Thee.
To the Big Children
Father-Mother good, lovingly
Thee I seek,—
Patient, meek,
In the way Thou hast,—
Be it slow or fast,
Up to Thee.
Thee I seek,—
Patient, meek,
In the way Thou hast,—
Be it slow or fast,
Up to Thee.
TRUTH
In the dim distance, lay
A bright and golden shower
At sunset's radiant hour,—
Like to the soul's glad immortality,
Making this life divine,
Making its waters wine,
Giving the glory that eye cannot see.
In God there is no night,—
Truth is eternal light,
A help forever near;
For sinless sense is here
In Truth, the Life, the Principle of man.
Away, then, mortal sense!
Then, error, get thee hence,
Thy discord ne'er in harmony began!
Truth is eternal light,
A help forever near;
For sinless sense is here
In Truth, the Life, the Principle of man.
Away, then, mortal sense!
Then, error, get thee hence,
Thy discord ne'er in harmony began!
Immortal Truth,—since heaven rang,
The while the glad stars sang
To hail creation's glorious morn—
As when this babe was born,
A painless heraldry of Soul, not sense,—
Shine on our 'wildered way,
Give God's idea sway,
And sickness, sin, and death are banished hence.
The while the glad stars sang
To hail creation's glorious morn—
As when this babe was born,
A painless heraldry of Soul, not sense,—
Shine on our 'wildered way,
Give God's idea sway,
And sickness, sin, and death are banished hence.
Lynn, Mass., April, 1871.
"THE LIBERTY BELLS"
When earth, inebriate with crime,
Laughed right to scorn, and guilt, grown bold,
Knelt worshiping at mammon's shrine.
This is the hour! Corruption's band
Is driven back; and periled right,
Rescued by the "fanatic" hand,
Spans our broad heaven of light.
Is driven back; and periled right,
Rescued by the "fanatic" hand,
Spans our broad heaven of light.
Righteousness ne'er—awestruck or dumb—
Feared for an hour the tyrant's heel!
Injustice to the combat sprang;
God to the rescue—Liberty, peal!
Feared for an hour the tyrant's heel!
Injustice to the combat sprang;
God to the rescue—Liberty, peal!
Joy is in every belfry bell—
Joy for the captive! Sound it long!
Ye who have wept fourscore can tell
The holy meaning of their song.
Joy for the captive! Sound it long!
Ye who have wept fourscore can tell
The holy meaning of their song.
'Tis freedom's birthday—blood-bought boon!
O war-rent flag! O soldier-shroud!
Thine be the glory—nor too soon
Is heard your "Cry aloud!"
O war-rent flag! O soldier-shroud!
Thine be the glory—nor too soon
Is heard your "Cry aloud!"
O not too soon is rent the chain
And charter, trampling right in dust!
Till God is God no longer—ne'er again
Quench liberty that's just.
And charter, trampling right in dust!
Till God is God no longer—ne'er again
Quench liberty that's just.
Lynn, Mass., February 3, 1865.
"MEMENTO"
Respectfully inscribed to my friends in Lynn.
O'er the moonlit sea,
When the hoarse wave revisits thy shore!
When waters shout,
And the stars peep out,
I am with thee in spirit once more.
Then list the moan
Of the billows' foam,
Laving with surges thy silv'ry beach!
Night's dewy eye,
The sea-mew's lone cry,
Witness my presence and utter my speech.
Of the billows' foam,
Laving with surges thy silv'ry beach!
Night's dewy eye,
The sea-mew's lone cry,
Witness my presence and utter my speech.
Pleasant a grave
By the "Rock" or wave,
And afar from life's turmoil its goal.
No sculptured lie,
Or hypocrite sigh,
E'er to mock the bright truth of the soul.
By the "Rock" or wave,
And afar from life's turmoil its goal.
No sculptured lie,
Or hypocrite sigh,
E'er to mock the bright truth of the soul.
Friends, will not ye
Think kindly of me,
In those moments to memory bestowed?
Smile on me yet,
O blue eyes and jet,
Soft as when parting thy sympathy glowed!
Think kindly of me,
In those moments to memory bestowed?
Smile on me yet,
O blue eyes and jet,
Soft as when parting thy sympathy glowed!
March 3, 1867.
COMMUNION HYMN
Felt ye the power of the Word?
'Twas the Truth that made us free,
And was found by you and me
In the life and the love of our Lord.
Mourner, it calls you,—"Come to my bosom,
Love wipes your tears all away,
And will lift the shade of gloom,
And for you make radiant room
Midst the glories of one endless day."
Love wipes your tears all away,
And will lift the shade of gloom,
And for you make radiant room
Midst the glories of one endless day."
Sinner, it calls you,—"Come to this fountain,
Cleanse the foul senses within;
'Tis the Spirit that makes pure,
That exalts thee, and will cure
All thy sorrow and sickness and sin."
Cleanse the foul senses within;
'Tis the Spirit that makes pure,
That exalts thee, and will cure
All thy sorrow and sickness and sin."
Strongest deliverer, friend of the friendless,
Life of all being divine:
Thou the Christ, and not the creed;
Thou the Truth in thought and deed;
Thou the water, the bread, and the wine.
Life of all being divine:
Thou the Christ, and not the creed;
Thou the Truth in thought and deed;
Thou the water, the bread, and the wine.
LAUS DEO!
The laying of the corner-stone of The Mother Church.
Rolled away from loving heart
Is a stone.
Lifted higher, we depart,
Having one.
Laus Deo,—on this rock
(Heaven chiseled squarely good)
Stands His church,—
God is Love, and understood
By His flock.
(Heaven chiseled squarely good)
Stands His church,—
God is Love, and understood
By His flock.
Laus Deo, night star-lit
Slumbers not in God's embrace;
Be awake;
Like this stone, be in thy place:
Stand, not sit.
Slumbers not in God's embrace;
Be awake;
Like this stone, be in thy place:
Stand, not sit.
Grave, silent, steadfast stone,
Dirge and song and shoutings low
In thy heart
Dwell serene,—and sorrow? No,
It has none,
Laus Deo!
Dirge and song and shoutings low
In thy heart
Dwell serene,—and sorrow? No,
It has none,
Laus Deo!
OUR NATIONAL THANKSGIVING HYMN
A nation's holiest hymn in grateful praise!
Plenty and peace abound at Thy behest,
Yet wherefore this Thy love? Thou knowest best!
Thou who, impartial, blessings spreadst abroad,
Thou wisdom, Love, and Truth,—divinely God!
Who giveth joy and tears, conflict and rest,
Teaching us thus of Thee, who knowest best!
Thou wisdom, Love, and Truth,—divinely God!
Who giveth joy and tears, conflict and rest,
Teaching us thus of Thee, who knowest best!
Ruler Supreme! to Thee we'll meekly bow,
When we have learned of Truth what Thou doest now—
Why from this festive hour some dear lost guest
Bears hence its sunlit glow—Thou knowest best!
When we have learned of Truth what Thou doest now—
Why from this festive hour some dear lost guest
Bears hence its sunlit glow—Thou knowest best!
How have our honored dead fought on in gloom!
Peace her white wings will spread over their tomb;
Why waited their reward, triumph and rest,
Till molds the hero form? Thou knowest best!
Peace her white wings will spread over their tomb;
Why waited their reward, triumph and rest,
Till molds the hero form? Thou knowest best!
Shades of our heroes! the Union now is one,
The star whose destiny none may outrun;
Tears of the bleeding slave poured on her breast,
When to be wiped away, Thou knowest best!
The star whose destiny none may outrun;
Tears of the bleeding slave poured on her breast,
When to be wiped away, Thou knowest best!
Thou who in the Christ hallowed its grief,—
O meekest of mourners, while yet the chief,—
Give to the pleading hearts comfort and rest,
In that benediction which knoweth best!
O meekest of mourners, while yet the chief,—
Give to the pleading hearts comfort and rest,
In that benediction which knoweth best!
Lynn, Mass., December 7, 1865.
SATISFIED
So Love doth guide;
For storm or shine, pure peace is thine,
Whate'er betide.
And of these stones, or tyrants' thrones,
God able is
To raise up seed—in thought and deed—
To faithful His.
God able is
To raise up seed—in thought and deed—
To faithful His.
Aye, darkling sense, arise, go hence!
Our God is good.
False fears are foes—truth tatters those,
When understood.
Our God is good.
False fears are foes—truth tatters those,
When understood.
Love looseth thee, and lifteth me,
Ayont hate's thrall:
There Life is light, and wisdom might,
And God is All.
Ayont hate's thrall:
There Life is light, and wisdom might,
And God is All.
The centuries break, the earth-bound wake,
God's glorified!
Who doth His will—His likeness still—
Is satisfied.
God's glorified!
Who doth His will—His likeness still—
Is satisfied.
Pleasant View, Concord, N. H., January, 1900.