Any work for me? No? I am sorry—
For I’m weary, and hungry and cold;
You’re wishing to hear my life’s story?
’Tis the first time it ever was told.
Yes, friend, I will tell you. A sorrow
Extinguished the flame from life’s lamp;
Which made me a wanderer—an outcast—
And why I am now called—a tramp.
For I’m weary, and hungry and cold;
You’re wishing to hear my life’s story?
’Tis the first time it ever was told.
Yes, friend, I will tell you. A sorrow
Extinguished the flame from life’s lamp;
Which made me a wanderer—an outcast—
And why I am now called—a tramp.
Well friend, I once was as happy
As that little boy over there,—
My cheeks were as rosy and chubby,
And my soft, golden curls just as fair.
But I then knew the care of a mother—
A mother as noble and good
As God ever gave to a fellow,
And she did just the best that she could,
As that little boy over there,—
My cheeks were as rosy and chubby,
And my soft, golden curls just as fair.
But I then knew the care of a mother—
A mother as noble and good
As God ever gave to a fellow,
And she did just the best that she could,
To show me the path straight and narrow,
And I never once wanted to stray
Away from her side, where she taught me
Each morning, and evening, to pray.
At length, when I attained manhood,
The crowning joy came to my life;
And never was husband more happy
Than I, with my sweet little wife.
And I never once wanted to stray
Away from her side, where she taught me
Each morning, and evening, to pray.
At length, when I attained manhood,
The crowning joy came to my life;
And never was husband more happy
Than I, with my sweet little wife.
And she loved me so fondly and truly,
It made all my toil seem like play;
I was working for her, and for baby—
Baby Charlie I call him alway.
Well, I got a snug home for my loved ones.
And a good sum of money to spare;
’Twould have been like the Garden of Eden
Had the Serpent not gained entrance there.
It made all my toil seem like play;
I was working for her, and for baby—
Baby Charlie I call him alway.
Well, I got a snug home for my loved ones.
And a good sum of money to spare;
’Twould have been like the Garden of Eden
Had the Serpent not gained entrance there.
But I had a dear friend—Jim Daley,
The chum of my boyhood and youth;
And true, like a brother I loved him—
For I thought him the ideal of Truth.
At school we were always together,
E’er shared with each other our joy;
And only God knows how I loved him—
This handsome, and proud, winsome boy.
The chum of my boyhood and youth;
And true, like a brother I loved him—
For I thought him the ideal of Truth.
At school we were always together,
E’er shared with each other our joy;
And only God knows how I loved him—
This handsome, and proud, winsome boy.
And I trusted him, friend, I trusted him
With all that was sacred and dear
To my heart, Yes, I trusted him fully—
Nor dreamed I could have aught to fear.
But one day he complained of reverses—
Said his money just then was not free—
There were bills he must pay on the morrow—
And he wanted to borrow of me.
With all that was sacred and dear
To my heart, Yes, I trusted him fully—
Nor dreamed I could have aught to fear.
But one day he complained of reverses—
Said his money just then was not free—
There were bills he must pay on the morrow—
And he wanted to borrow of me.
So I loaned him all of the money
I had saved for some chance rainy day,—
And in less than a month I was homeless—
My family were kidnapped away!
What inducement he tendered, I know not,
Or whether ’twas mesmeric power
Which lured my poor, true-hearted girlie
From me and our beautiful bower.
I had saved for some chance rainy day,—
And in less than a month I was homeless—
My family were kidnapped away!
What inducement he tendered, I know not,
Or whether ’twas mesmeric power
Which lured my poor, true-hearted girlie
From me and our beautiful bower.
Were he here now, ah, could I forgive him—
Would duty, and right, say I must?
Could I extend the hand-grasp of friendship
To him who has broken that trust?
I can only pray God to forgive him—
And me. For with memory’s stamp
Comes the knowledge of why I am needy—
And why people call me—a tramp.
Would duty, and right, say I must?
Could I extend the hand-grasp of friendship
To him who has broken that trust?
I can only pray God to forgive him—
And me. For with memory’s stamp
Comes the knowledge of why I am needy—
And why people call me—a tramp.
I sold our dear cot mid the roses,
And stealthily set out to trace
The whereabouts of my dear loved ones,
And I wandered from place to place
At last came the sorrowful tidings
Of a ship going down in a gale,—
Their names, on the list of the lost ones!
And this is the end of the tale.
And stealthily set out to trace
The whereabouts of my dear loved ones,
And I wandered from place to place
At last came the sorrowful tidings
Of a ship going down in a gale,—
Their names, on the list of the lost ones!
And this is the end of the tale.
From my great sorrow then I sought refuge,
And I drifted from east to the west;
In my young days I worked hard and steady,
In every place doing my best.
But now there ’s no work,—I’m heart broken.—
Alone, in the cold and the damp,—
To my poor heart it seems—save in Heaven
There’s no room for the poor, aged tramp.
And I drifted from east to the west;
In my young days I worked hard and steady,
In every place doing my best.
But now there ’s no work,—I’m heart broken.—
Alone, in the cold and the damp,—
To my poor heart it seems—save in Heaven
There’s no room for the poor, aged tramp.
’TIS EASY TO GET MISTAKEN
In a cozy cot, mid bloom and leaf,
There dwelt a woman very deaf,—
If anything special she wished to hear
She’d put a trumpet to her ear.
Without the instrument, she could at best
But hear some—and guess the rest.
There dwelt a woman very deaf,—
If anything special she wished to hear
She’d put a trumpet to her ear.
Without the instrument, she could at best
But hear some—and guess the rest.
One day she laid it on a chair—
Got up, and left it lying there—
And went to work sweeping the floor
Just as a peddler reached the door.
And to the man it did occur
That he might sell some goods to her.
Got up, and left it lying there—
And went to work sweeping the floor
Just as a peddler reached the door.
And to the man it did occur
That he might sell some goods to her.
“Good morning Marm, fine day,” quoth he—
“I thought I’d just call, and see”—
“Just come from sea! is that what ye say?
Well, and who are ye any way?”
“Oh, pray excuse me marm! I said—
I simply called to sell some thread”—
“I thought I’d just call, and see”—
“Just come from sea! is that what ye say?
Well, and who are ye any way?”
“Oh, pray excuse me marm! I said—
I simply called to sell some thread”—
“Swell on the head? well there I vow—
What you been up to any how?”
“Beg pardon marm!”—at her he stared,
“But is your hearing not impared?”
“My herrings pared? Yes, scraped off the scales
And then cut off the heads and tails!”
What you been up to any how?”
“Beg pardon marm!”—at her he stared,
“But is your hearing not impared?”
“My herrings pared? Yes, scraped off the scales
And then cut off the heads and tails!”
The peddler’s voice grew loud and louder:—
“Say marm! don’t you want to buy some powder?
Here is one dozen shell hair pins”—
“What! want to sell a pair of twins?
Why man, you make a body laugh,
I’d rather buy a Jersey calf—
“Say marm! don’t you want to buy some powder?
Here is one dozen shell hair pins”—
“What! want to sell a pair of twins?
Why man, you make a body laugh,
I’d rather buy a Jersey calf—
Me! buy them twins!”—“Madam, your wrong!
Have been mistaken all along!”—
“Didn’t take ’em along? it’s just as well,
For twins ain’t very good to sell.”
“Excuse me marm—but my belief
Is that you must be a little deaf!”
Have been mistaken all along!”—
“Didn’t take ’em along? it’s just as well,
For twins ain’t very good to sell.”
“Excuse me marm—but my belief
Is that you must be a little deaf!”
“A little beef?—for dinner—hey?
Beef and herrings did you say?”
“I didn’t say so!” he loudly roar’d—
But his voice took wing and upward soar’d.
“Don’t worry—you won’t have to wait,
I’ll get your dinner before ’tis late.”
Beef and herrings did you say?”
“I didn’t say so!” he loudly roar’d—
But his voice took wing and upward soar’d.
“Don’t worry—you won’t have to wait,
I’ll get your dinner before ’tis late.”
“Don’t want no dinner!” he yelled in her ear,—
“Gal darn ye! can’t I make ye hear?”
“Hain’t got no beer for you,” said she,
“You needn’t get mad and swear at me!”
“Beg pardon!” he yelled with voice immense,
“But I certainly mean’t you no offence”—
“Gal darn ye! can’t I make ye hear?”
“Hain’t got no beer for you,” said she,
“You needn’t get mad and swear at me!”
“Beg pardon!” he yelled with voice immense,
“But I certainly mean’t you no offence”—
“Fence? you’ll find out if there’s a fence or not
If you don’t get out—now! on the spot!
All you know is to make comments—
Great pile you know about our fence!”
“To sell you something was my plan—
Here Madam! don’t you want a fan?”
If you don’t get out—now! on the spot!
All you know is to make comments—
Great pile you know about our fence!”
“To sell you something was my plan—
Here Madam! don’t you want a fan?”
“Me want a man! how could you guess?
Of course my answer must be yes.
Me! want a man! what’s that I hear?”
And she put the trumpet to her ear.
“Don’t shoot! don’t shoot!” the peddler said,
And instantly turned on his heel and fled.
Of course my answer must be yes.
Me! want a man! what’s that I hear?”
And she put the trumpet to her ear.
“Don’t shoot! don’t shoot!” the peddler said,
And instantly turned on his heel and fled.
SONG OF A SUFFRAGETTE
With apologies to A. P. S.
This world would be happy, and lovely indeed,
If the men were banished, of them there’s no need;
Now the ambitious women must fight for their due—
With the pesky men-folks we’ll have no more to do!
If the men were banished, of them there’s no need;
Now the ambitious women must fight for their due—
With the pesky men-folks we’ll have no more to do!
Chorus
They don’t like to work, Oh no!
(Men and work don’t agree you know.)
(Men and work don’t agree you know.)
With mouth full of Tobacco, at ease near the grate.
They’ll sit and vehemently expectorate;
And the women are lucky if they can keep out
Of the streaks of tobacco-juice flying about!
They’ll sit and vehemently expectorate;
And the women are lucky if they can keep out
Of the streaks of tobacco-juice flying about!
Chorus
And tobacco-smoke fragrant will flow
In beautiful wreaths, you know!
In beautiful wreaths, you know!
The women, poor things, must wash, mend and bake,
And should there occur the slightest mistake
The men-folks will growl, and help things along
And emphasize things with language strong!
And should there occur the slightest mistake
The men-folks will growl, and help things along
And emphasize things with language strong!
Chorus
Their masculine nature they show—
(Rather growl than work, you know!)
(Rather growl than work, you know!)
’Tis predicted the time is not far away
When the men-folks, cast down, let the women hold sway;
The men will be piled in one gigantic heap,
Then Perfection’s sweet presence the women will keep!
When the men-folks, cast down, let the women hold sway;
The men will be piled in one gigantic heap,
Then Perfection’s sweet presence the women will keep!
Chorus
For the women will work, and so
They’ll manage things nicely, you know!
They’ll manage things nicely, you know!
RURAL DELIGHT
The farmer in the early spring
Plants fields of yellow corn—
How cheerily we hear him sing
While out in the dews of morn!
All thro’ the long, bright Summer
He works among the grain;
And sees the tender corn blades grow
Strengthen’d by sun and rain.
Plants fields of yellow corn—
How cheerily we hear him sing
While out in the dews of morn!
All thro’ the long, bright Summer
He works among the grain;
And sees the tender corn blades grow
Strengthen’d by sun and rain.
He sees with pride the yellow silk
Around the corn-cob curled,—
Oh, the jolly, jolly farmer
Is the happiest chap in the world.
How the cows do love, at supper time
To eat the sweet corn meal!
How eager are they for their share
As the farmers dip and deal.
Around the corn-cob curled,—
Oh, the jolly, jolly farmer
Is the happiest chap in the world.
How the cows do love, at supper time
To eat the sweet corn meal!
How eager are they for their share
As the farmers dip and deal.
The dairy maid with honest pride
Beams, as with joy she sees
The shelves that she with skill has piled
With butter and with cheese.
When Autumn comes and big tall stalks
With golden ears are laden;
In order comes the “husking bee,”
For merry Youth and Maiden.
Beams, as with joy she sees
The shelves that she with skill has piled
With butter and with cheese.
When Autumn comes and big tall stalks
With golden ears are laden;
In order comes the “husking bee,”
For merry Youth and Maiden.
And when the ripe “red ear” is found
By some pretty winsome miss
The swain, “Old Customs” will observe
And steal the wonted kiss.
The music and the laughter soars
To the rafters overhead;
As they trip the “light fantastic toe”
With an airy, fairy tread.
By some pretty winsome miss
The swain, “Old Customs” will observe
And steal the wonted kiss.
The music and the laughter soars
To the rafters overhead;
As they trip the “light fantastic toe”
With an airy, fairy tread.
Then the Pumpkin Pie and Doughnuts come.—
At the close of the mazy dance
Each swain escorts his sweetheart home
(If he can get the chance!)
Thus joy and love will enter in
The lot with honest toil;
As the farmer reaps his rich reward
From tilling of the soil.
At the close of the mazy dance
Each swain escorts his sweetheart home
(If he can get the chance!)
Thus joy and love will enter in
The lot with honest toil;
As the farmer reaps his rich reward
From tilling of the soil.
LOOK UP
(Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.)
’Tis dreary now, a snowy shroud
Lies white upon the ground;
While fierce and wild the piercing blast
With chilling notes resound.
Lies white upon the ground;
While fierce and wild the piercing blast
With chilling notes resound.
No songs of birds—No crickets chirp.
No busy hum of bees
Ere floats aloft.—The Wood-nymphs sleep
Within the leafless trees.
No busy hum of bees
Ere floats aloft.—The Wood-nymphs sleep
Within the leafless trees.
All Nature’s works now dormant lie
’Neath pure, white cover lid;
The violets nestle snug and warm
From harm securely hid.
’Neath pure, white cover lid;
The violets nestle snug and warm
From harm securely hid.
List! Spring has sent her harbinger—
And laden with garlands, she brings
Perfumes that are sweet as the breath of the dawn
On the sheen of her beautiful wings.
And laden with garlands, she brings
Perfumes that are sweet as the breath of the dawn
On the sheen of her beautiful wings.
Soft winds will follow in her wake
And put to flight the snow—
The bird-songs sweet will soon be heard
In cadence soft and low.
And put to flight the snow—
The bird-songs sweet will soon be heard
In cadence soft and low.
Then do not e’er grieve for adverse
Conditions that exist,—
The sun will show its sovereign power
And drive away the mist!
Conditions that exist,—
The sun will show its sovereign power
And drive away the mist!
Why reck we then tho’ storms assail
And winds hold wild career?
Look up! and feel within your heart
That Summer now is here.
And winds hold wild career?
Look up! and feel within your heart
That Summer now is here.
Dispel the morbid sense of gloom!
The bleak earth soon anew
Shall bloom again, like flowerets fair
Kissed by the summer dew.
The bleak earth soon anew
Shall bloom again, like flowerets fair
Kissed by the summer dew.
THE BURNING OF THE TURNER MILL
Calmly dawned the Sabbath morning
O’er Turner’s hills and moors;
And peaceful lay the village—
By fair Nezinscot’s shores.
O’er Turner’s hills and moors;
And peaceful lay the village—
By fair Nezinscot’s shores.
Rich and abundant blessings
Seemed showering o’er the land
Like dews of Heaven, diffusing
As by some unseen Hand.
Seemed showering o’er the land
Like dews of Heaven, diffusing
As by some unseen Hand.
A verdant, fertile valley
That spread afar was seen;
With anon interspersing
The river’s azure sheen.
That spread afar was seen;
With anon interspersing
The river’s azure sheen.
And on the green banks, winding
In gentle, graceful curve;
Where rank, tenebrous foliage
The feather’d nestlings serve.
In gentle, graceful curve;
Where rank, tenebrous foliage
The feather’d nestlings serve.
Stood giant oaks primeval,
Which thrust their branches wide
Where dancing ripples sparkled
Upon the eddying tide.
Which thrust their branches wide
Where dancing ripples sparkled
Upon the eddying tide.
Bright spires, ever gleaming
From tall majestic domes
Like sentinels seemed guarding
The scores of happy homes.
From tall majestic domes
Like sentinels seemed guarding
The scores of happy homes.
A picture fair and lovely
The landscape lay that morn,—
As tho’ by seraph painted
Upon the wings of dawn.
The landscape lay that morn,—
As tho’ by seraph painted
Upon the wings of dawn.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The first chimes from the steeples
Rang out in accents clear;
And like accordant music
Fell on the listening ear.—
Rang out in accents clear;
And like accordant music
Fell on the listening ear.—
As yet no note of sorrow
Was mingled in their tone;
They seemed like benedictions
Descending from the Throne.
Was mingled in their tone;
They seemed like benedictions
Descending from the Throne.
No thought had the good people
Of shadows hovering near—
No thought that ere the noon-tide
Full many a bitter tear
Would fall.—(Oh! all-wise Father—
By thy supernal power
Revert the pending danger
Ere falls the fatal hour!
Of shadows hovering near—
No thought that ere the noon-tide
Full many a bitter tear
Would fall.—(Oh! all-wise Father—
By thy supernal power
Revert the pending danger
Ere falls the fatal hour!
Ah! why?—our hearts may question,—
Ye mortals!—none can tell!
’Tis meet, on Him relying
Who doeth all things well.)—
Ye mortals!—none can tell!
’Tis meet, on Him relying
Who doeth all things well.)—
Once more the bells’ sweet music
From all the belfrys rang;
Bidding the folk to gather
For worship.—Praise they sang.
From all the belfrys rang;
Bidding the folk to gather
For worship.—Praise they sang.
And as they turned their footsteps—
Each toward his wonted church;
All was serene and peaceful
As far as eye could search.
Each toward his wonted church;
All was serene and peaceful
As far as eye could search.
But hark! What meant the tumult
Arising in yon street—
And why disperse those people
With swiftly hurrying feet?—
Arising in yon street—
And why disperse those people
With swiftly hurrying feet?—
And why that shrill voice shouting
As if in dire alarm—
Did’st know ’twas misdemeanor
To break the Sabbath calm?—
As if in dire alarm—
Did’st know ’twas misdemeanor
To break the Sabbath calm?—
As onward sped the herald,
With face the hue of death
And wild-bright eyes, an instant
He paused to regain breath,—
With face the hue of death
And wild-bright eyes, an instant
He paused to regain breath,—
Then quick, in tones reverberant
That pealed from spire to spire
Rang out the cry of terror:—
“The mill! The mill’s on fire!”
That pealed from spire to spire
Rang out the cry of terror:—
“The mill! The mill’s on fire!”
(Thro’ the surrounding valley,
And o’er adjacent hill;
The echoes oft repeated:—
“There’s fire in the mill!”)
And o’er adjacent hill;
The echoes oft repeated:—
“There’s fire in the mill!”)
Amazed were all the people—
No word their lips could frame
As on the breeze’s soft pinions
Again the wild cries came:—
No word their lips could frame
As on the breeze’s soft pinions
Again the wild cries came:—
“The mill! The mill is burning!”
At last, as if from sleep
They wakened to the danger,—
Beheld a bright flame leap!—
At last, as if from sleep
They wakened to the danger,—
Beheld a bright flame leap!—
Ascending and expanding,
Columns of smoke arose
As from volcanic crater
Where molten lava flows.—
Columns of smoke arose
As from volcanic crater
Where molten lava flows.—
Again the cry resounded:—
“The mill is all on fire!”—
And catching up the tidings
The bells ’neath every spire
“The mill is all on fire!”—
And catching up the tidings
The bells ’neath every spire
Tolled franticly the warning.—
With clanging, vibrant tongue
They sent abroad the message
The village folk among!
With clanging, vibrant tongue
They sent abroad the message
The village folk among!
Lo! Turner’s happy village—
That peaceful, pleasant scene
Transformed in one brief moment
To one of sorrow keen.—
That peaceful, pleasant scene
Transformed in one brief moment
To one of sorrow keen.—
The smoke grew darker, denser,
Fierce flames leaped high and higher,—
“Oh for Niagarian torrent
To quench the cruel fire!”
Fierce flames leaped high and higher,—
“Oh for Niagarian torrent
To quench the cruel fire!”
Red tongues from every window
Shot forth.—As fortress gray
Shoots flame from belching cannon
In battle’s grim array.—
Shot forth.—As fortress gray
Shoots flame from belching cannon
In battle’s grim array.—
As pillar after pillar
Of smoke arose, which claimed
The attention of the people
As high the rafters flamed—
Of smoke arose, which claimed
The attention of the people
As high the rafters flamed—
As stood they mute, and helpless,
While cinders rose and fell
’Mid the crackling and roaring
No mortal power could quell
While cinders rose and fell
’Mid the crackling and roaring
No mortal power could quell
A cry to Heaven ascended—
(Thro’ bravest hearts a thrill
Of horror crept:)—The proprietor
Is in the burning mill!”
(Thro’ bravest hearts a thrill
Of horror crept:)—The proprietor
Is in the burning mill!”
Then stood aghast the people,
Astounded, stricken, dazed.—
While in that glowing furnace
The timbers cracked and blazed.
Astounded, stricken, dazed.—
While in that glowing furnace
The timbers cracked and blazed.
And, as the smoke ascended
In black, dense, billowy waves;
Each heart cried out in anguish:—
“Oh Father, God who saves
In black, dense, billowy waves;
Each heart cried out in anguish:—
“Oh Father, God who saves
Look down in thy compassion!”—
The mad flames dart and sway
Like ruddy, fork-tongued dragons
That swift devour their prey.—
The mad flames dart and sway
Like ruddy, fork-tongued dragons
That swift devour their prey.—
The winds sang a requiem,
And many a silent prayer
Arose. As smoke and flame illumined
The sky with lurid glare.—
And many a silent prayer
Arose. As smoke and flame illumined
The sky with lurid glare.—
Oh! friends and loving kindred—
Your hearts in grief must bow;
The proprietor of the factory
Needs not your pity now!
Your hearts in grief must bow;
The proprietor of the factory
Needs not your pity now!
An Angel came and bore him
To that celestial shore
Where all from earthly trials
Shall triumph evermore.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Once more the scene is pleasant
O’er Turner’s hills and moors;
And peaceful lies the village
By fair Nezinscot’s shores.
To that celestial shore
Where all from earthly trials
Shall triumph evermore.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Once more the scene is pleasant
O’er Turner’s hills and moors;
And peaceful lies the village
By fair Nezinscot’s shores.
Green meadows ever rolling
The pine-clad hills between
With anon interspersing
The river’s azure sheen.
The pine-clad hills between
With anon interspersing
The river’s azure sheen.
And on its pebbly beaches,
Where winds the glistening curve,
Still soft, pendulous verdure
The feathered nestlings serve.
Where winds the glistening curve,
Still soft, pendulous verdure
The feathered nestlings serve.
The lofty oaks primeval
Still thrust their branches wide;
Where silvery wavelets sparkle
Upon the bounding tide.
Still thrust their branches wide;
Where silvery wavelets sparkle
Upon the bounding tide.
Yet by the rushing waters
That sweep adown the strand;
A silent, rugged spectre
The grim old ruins stand.
That sweep adown the strand;
A silent, rugged spectre
The grim old ruins stand.
The bleak walls, rent and jagged,—
As mountain walls might frown
That thro’ convulsive earthquake
Its crest had swallowed down.
As mountain walls might frown
That thro’ convulsive earthquake
Its crest had swallowed down.
The winds, thro’ crevice wailing
In sweetly plaintive air,
A perpetual dirge descanteth
For him, who perished there.
In sweetly plaintive air,
A perpetual dirge descanteth
For him, who perished there.
Thro’ all the years now vanished,
Neglected and forlorn;
It stands alone, and mutely
Bespeaks of days agone.
Neglected and forlorn;
It stands alone, and mutely
Bespeaks of days agone.
No loom or wheel is busy—
Revolving band ne’er whirrs—
No “Factory bell” each morning
The village folk bestirs.
Revolving band ne’er whirrs—
No “Factory bell” each morning
The village folk bestirs.
No structure supersedeth
Where flow these waters free;—
Tho’ none can e’er determine
What may in future be.
Where flow these waters free;—
Tho’ none can e’er determine
What may in future be.
Yet now, as rubious sunset
In splendor gilds the waves;
And sweet, naiadic music
Is wafting from the caves—
In splendor gilds the waves;
And sweet, naiadic music
Is wafting from the caves—
Oft in disconsolation
The zephyrs whisper still
This tragic tale:—relating
The burning of the mill.
The zephyrs whisper still
This tragic tale:—relating
The burning of the mill.
CARPE DIEM
Pray, never search for hidden woes,
Or grievous troubles borrow;
Nor cloud the sun today—in fear
Lest it may rain tomorrow.
God makes the sunshine and the rain—
Then, if today is pleasant
Why worry o’er tomorrow’s storm—
Why not enjoy the present?
Or grievous troubles borrow;
Nor cloud the sun today—in fear
Lest it may rain tomorrow.
God makes the sunshine and the rain—
Then, if today is pleasant
Why worry o’er tomorrow’s storm—
Why not enjoy the present?
It will not make the verdant hills
Put on a brighter hue;
Nor will the canopy above
Ere be a lesser blue
If all our hours are spent in tears,—
Then let us strive alway
To see our many blessings, and
Enjoy the present day.
Put on a brighter hue;
Nor will the canopy above
Ere be a lesser blue
If all our hours are spent in tears,—
Then let us strive alway
To see our many blessings, and
Enjoy the present day.
A BACHELOR’S COMMENTS ON WOMEN’S RIGHTS
’Tis said the time is close at hand
Which earnest thought invites—
We’ll take up this expansive theme
And speak on “Women’s Rights.”
Methinks there’s many a questions, now,
Which worthy seems of note;
What say we, then: Will all things change
When the women have power to vote?
Which earnest thought invites—
We’ll take up this expansive theme
And speak on “Women’s Rights.”
Methinks there’s many a questions, now,
Which worthy seems of note;
What say we, then: Will all things change
When the women have power to vote?
Will they exchange places with the men—
Tread where have trod their feet—
And dig and delve all day, to get
Things for the men to eat?
Will the men folks stay in the house all day
Dressed in their silks and laces—
Their soft white hands bedecked with rings,
And powder on their faces?
Tread where have trod their feet—
And dig and delve all day, to get
Things for the men to eat?
Will the men folks stay in the house all day
Dressed in their silks and laces—
Their soft white hands bedecked with rings,
And powder on their faces?
Will they play the piano, with no thought
To the morrow ever giving—
While the woman goes, and tries to find
Some way to get a living?
Will she be a carpenter,
And build houses tall and grand;
And scale with might the dizzy height
With hammer and saw in hand?
To the morrow ever giving—
While the woman goes, and tries to find
Some way to get a living?
Will she be a carpenter,
And build houses tall and grand;
And scale with might the dizzy height
With hammer and saw in hand?
Will she be a soldier true
And fight in uniform—
Or will she be a sailor bold
And brave the tempestuous storm?
Will she like to make the mines
Down underneath the ground
And bring to light the precious gems
In those dark and deep caves found?
And fight in uniform—
Or will she be a sailor bold
And brave the tempestuous storm?
Will she like to make the mines
Down underneath the ground
And bring to light the precious gems
In those dark and deep caves found?
Will she like to dig for ore
Where the hidden metals are?
Will she take her place on a railway train
Or drive an electric car?
How many will learn the dentist’s trade?
For they must learn it when
The good new time comes—and the ladies
Change places with the men.
Where the hidden metals are?
Will she take her place on a railway train
Or drive an electric car?
How many will learn the dentist’s trade?
For they must learn it when
The good new time comes—and the ladies
Change places with the men.
Can she build the massive bridges
That the rushing waters span—
Can she smoke and chew tobacco
And do it like a man?
Can she even be a farmer—
Hold plow and drive the horse?
Should she change places with the men
Why, then she can of course!
That the rushing waters span—
Can she smoke and chew tobacco
And do it like a man?
Can she even be a farmer—
Hold plow and drive the horse?
Should she change places with the men
Why, then she can of course!
Then the liege lords will realize
As darksome fears encroach;
Why the once fair sex in timidity
Shrank from a mouse’s approach
Yes, the time is drawing nearer,—
Yet one question still remains
Will the world be any better
When the women hold the reins?
As darksome fears encroach;
Why the once fair sex in timidity
Shrank from a mouse’s approach
Yes, the time is drawing nearer,—
Yet one question still remains
Will the world be any better
When the women hold the reins?
WEALTH vs VIRTUE
By devious ways and endeavors, afar
I sought, ascertaining if Gold
And Virtue—that fairest of gems—were at par
And in the same rank were enrolled.
I sought, ascertaining if Gold
And Virtue—that fairest of gems—were at par
And in the same rank were enrolled.
And, viewed with zest keen and undaunting,
Often Gold has been found to out-weigh;
And the measure of Virtue? Found wanting!
For gold hath power mighty to sway.
Often Gold has been found to out-weigh;
And the measure of Virtue? Found wanting!
For gold hath power mighty to sway.
For instance: Go mingle with people of style
In church—you can easily note
The smile and the shrug, as you pass down the aisle
With frayed hat and a patch on your coat.
In church—you can easily note
The smile and the shrug, as you pass down the aisle
With frayed hat and a patch on your coat.
Tho’ your heart may be kindest of any,
Time has flown since your clothing was new;
You are lacking in Wealth—ah! how many
Will bid you to enter their pew?
Time has flown since your clothing was new;
You are lacking in Wealth—ah! how many
Will bid you to enter their pew?
While precedes you a lady,—so haughty and grand,
Gaily trips she along down the aisle;
Her rosy lips wreathed in smiles sweet and bland—
She is clad in the most approved style.
Gaily trips she along down the aisle;
Her rosy lips wreathed in smiles sweet and bland—
She is clad in the most approved style.
You gaze on her features. Deceiver—
Is stamped plainly there on her face,—
Yet how eager are all to receive her—
How quick to share with her their place!
Is stamped plainly there on her face,—
Yet how eager are all to receive her—
How quick to share with her their place!
Go e’en on the street in your sorrow—
The wealthy and grand pass you by
In comfort, No trouble they borrow,
They see not the tear in your eye.
The wealthy and grand pass you by
In comfort, No trouble they borrow,
They see not the tear in your eye.
Were you dressed in fine raiment so neatly,
Your friendship would surely be theirs;
But now you are ignored completely,
They heed not your pleadings or prayers.
Your friendship would surely be theirs;
But now you are ignored completely,
They heed not your pleadings or prayers.
Often Riches will seek only Wealth’s favored lot
While Virtue seeks Virtue, abroad—
Or in humble seclusion—In palace or cot,
Knowing all are the children of God.
While Virtue seeks Virtue, abroad—
Or in humble seclusion—In palace or cot,
Knowing all are the children of God.
Down the turbulent River of Life, ever move
Misfortunes sad waifs, far from shore;
Whose struggles avail not.—Then doth it behoove
Us to cast the Life Line to the poor.
Misfortunes sad waifs, far from shore;
Whose struggles avail not.—Then doth it behoove
Us to cast the Life Line to the poor.
If, as it may, circumstances reverse,
And we find ourselves level with men
Who have seen, thro’ affliction, their riches disperse,—
Would we wish them to turn from us then?
And we find ourselves level with men
Who have seen, thro’ affliction, their riches disperse,—
Would we wish them to turn from us then?
Jesus the Saviour has taught us the way,
We will err not by following thus:
“Do unto others” as near as we may
“As we wish them to do unto us.”
We will err not by following thus:
“Do unto others” as near as we may
“As we wish them to do unto us.”
BE MERCIFUL
Have mercy for the poor aged horse
That has served you so faithful and true;
Be to him gentle, and treat him with care,
He can feel just as keenly as you.
Don’t try to get speed when your horse is half starved,
But let the poor creature alone;
He is patient, submissive, a slave to your will,
And obeys you with never a moan.
That has served you so faithful and true;
Be to him gentle, and treat him with care,
He can feel just as keenly as you.
Don’t try to get speed when your horse is half starved,
But let the poor creature alone;
He is patient, submissive, a slave to your will,
And obeys you with never a moan.
So eager, and willing, yet feeble and lame,
Mayhap is worn out with disease;
He is toiling along, his breath nearly gone,
He is dreadfully weak in the knees.
The harness, replete with prominent knots
E’er galls him on shoulder and breast;
His bright mournful eyes ask in vain for relief,
His anguish is mutely expressed.
Mayhap is worn out with disease;
He is toiling along, his breath nearly gone,
He is dreadfully weak in the knees.
The harness, replete with prominent knots
E’er galls him on shoulder and breast;
His bright mournful eyes ask in vain for relief,
His anguish is mutely expressed.
You ignore his pleadings, you heed not his pain,
Nor endeavor to lighten the load
By using your own locomotion to take
Yourself up the steep rocky road.
Oh! would that the spirit of pitying love
Into these thoughtless hearts might instill,—
There’s many a man can dance all night—
But ’twould harm him to walk up a hill!
Nor endeavor to lighten the load
By using your own locomotion to take
Yourself up the steep rocky road.
Oh! would that the spirit of pitying love
Into these thoughtless hearts might instill,—
There’s many a man can dance all night—
But ’twould harm him to walk up a hill!
SUNSHINE ON THE HILL
In the low-land where the shadows
Gather at the close of day;
When the sky in all its beauty
Turns from blue to sombre grey,—
Voices of the day are ceasing,
Plaintively the night-birds trill,—
In the distance, like a halo—
Lo! the sun shines on the hill!
Gather at the close of day;
When the sky in all its beauty
Turns from blue to sombre grey,—
Voices of the day are ceasing,
Plaintively the night-birds trill,—
In the distance, like a halo—
Lo! the sun shines on the hill!
When, like Wings of Night unfolded
Sorrow casts its chilling shade;
Causing all our joy to vanish
And our cherished hopes to fade—
When Oppression’s hand shall smite us
With a wrath that bodeth ill—
Look beyond the vale’s dark shadows
To the sunshine on the hill!
Sorrow casts its chilling shade;
Causing all our joy to vanish
And our cherished hopes to fade—
When Oppression’s hand shall smite us
With a wrath that bodeth ill—
Look beyond the vale’s dark shadows
To the sunshine on the hill!
YOUR REAL WEALTH
Brethren, as you down life’s pathway
Pass with firm and stately tread
When success shall crown your efforts
And its glories round you shed—
There’s a truth that e’er existeth,—
Though of high or lowly birth—
When death’s Angel for you calleth
You’ll own just “six feet of earth.”
Pass with firm and stately tread
When success shall crown your efforts
And its glories round you shed—
There’s a truth that e’er existeth,—
Though of high or lowly birth—
When death’s Angel for you calleth
You’ll own just “six feet of earth.”
Though you’re rich in lands and mansions,—
Though you’ve gold and jewels rare—
Though your life is bright and sunny
Never knows a want or care.—
Though a brother’s life of sorrow
Different is from yours of mirth;
Yet some day he’ll be your equal—
Both will own “six feet of earth.”
Though you’ve gold and jewels rare—
Though your life is bright and sunny
Never knows a want or care.—
Though a brother’s life of sorrow
Different is from yours of mirth;
Yet some day he’ll be your equal—
Both will own “six feet of earth.”
Turn your gaze to scenes Immortal—
Is your chance of Heaven more sure
Than the lowly one, possessing
Naught of fame, but heart most pure?
Nay, your riches ne’er can save you,
Virtue is the Gem of Worth;
You your wealth can not take with you
To the last “six feet of earth.”
Is your chance of Heaven more sure
Than the lowly one, possessing
Naught of fame, but heart most pure?
Nay, your riches ne’er can save you,
Virtue is the Gem of Worth;
You your wealth can not take with you
To the last “six feet of earth.”
Jesus once was poor and lowly,
And His crown held many a thorn;
Yet His heavenly Father loved Him
As He suffered grief and scorn.—
If your soul is pure and stainless
You have Wealth,—there’ll ne’er be dearth;
When at last the clay is sleeping
In your own “six feet of earth.”
And His crown held many a thorn;
Yet His heavenly Father loved Him
As He suffered grief and scorn.—
If your soul is pure and stainless
You have Wealth,—there’ll ne’er be dearth;
When at last the clay is sleeping
In your own “six feet of earth.”