'Twas in Brazil last Christmas day,
While at a family feast,
A little girl of five years old
The merriment increased,
While at a family feast,
A little girl of five years old
The merriment increased,
By crying out,—as glasses held
The ice she ne'er had seen,—
"Oh see! what pretty little stones.
What for? Where have they been?"
The ice she ne'er had seen,—
"Oh see! what pretty little stones.
What for? Where have they been?"
"Here, give her one," the host exclaimed,
Pleased with her childish glee.
"'Twill show her as no words could show
What ice is, and must be."
Pleased with her childish glee.
"'Twill show her as no words could show
What ice is, and must be."
She grasped the "white stone" in her hand,
All watching eagerly,
When suddenly she let it fall,
And cried, "It's burning me."
All watching eagerly,
When suddenly she let it fall,
And cried, "It's burning me."
But, anxious still to see it more,
She asked a servant near
To hand it in a napkin wrapped—
Then there would be no fear.
She asked a servant near
To hand it in a napkin wrapped—
Then there would be no fear.
Again the ice was in her hand,
Her plaything for the day,
When all at once she cried aloud,
"The stone is running away."
Her plaything for the day,
When all at once she cried aloud,
"The stone is running away."
A glass of water now was used,
Sure that would keep it hers.
But no! with all her loving watch
The same result occurs.
Sure that would keep it hers.
But no! with all her loving watch
The same result occurs.
The plaything gone, at evening hour
She sat on uncle's knee.
"Who makes those white stones, you or God?"
She asked, inquiringly.
She sat on uncle's knee.
"Who makes those white stones, you or God?"
She asked, inquiringly.
"In Miss Brown's land [a Boston friend]
God makes them," answered he.
"But in Brazil a factory-man
Makes them for you and me."
God makes them," answered he.
"But in Brazil a factory-man
Makes them for you and me."
A moment's pause. Then said the child,—
Heaven's blessing on her fall,—
"Why doesn't God get from Brazil
A man to make them all?"
Heaven's blessing on her fall,—
"Why doesn't God get from Brazil
A man to make them all?"
THE LITTLE DOUBTER.
"Mamma, where is the sun to-day,
While all this rain comes down?"
Ah, little girl
Of flaxen curl,
Who has not asked before
This question o'er and o'er?
While all this rain comes down?"
Ah, little girl
Of flaxen curl,
Who has not asked before
This question o'er and o'er?
"Behind the clouds so thick and black
The sun is shining still,"
The mother quickly answered back,
Her child with faith to fill.
The sun is shining still,"
The mother quickly answered back,
Her child with faith to fill.
The child looked up in strange surprise,
In doubt almost a pain,
Then turned again her wistful eyes
To watch the pouring rain.
In doubt almost a pain,
Then turned again her wistful eyes
To watch the pouring rain.
"I don't believe 'tis shining still,"
She muttered to herself.
Ah, little girl
Of flaxen curl,
Why doubt e'en mother's word,
Because of feelings stirred?
She muttered to herself.
Ah, little girl
Of flaxen curl,
Why doubt e'en mother's word,
Because of feelings stirred?
"I won't believe it till I see
The sun behind that cloud,"
She still went on, defiantly,
To say in accents loud.
The sun behind that cloud,"
She still went on, defiantly,
To say in accents loud.
Now, while she gazed as if to see
The truth made known by sight,
Behold the cloud did suddenly
Become imbued with light.
The truth made known by sight,
Behold the cloud did suddenly
Become imbued with light.
"There, there, mamma, the sun, the sun!"
The little doubter cried.
And, full of joy at victory won,
She danced with childish pride.
The little doubter cried.
And, full of joy at victory won,
She danced with childish pride.
The mother watched with tearful eyes
Her child's transparent joy,
But dared not quench the glad surprise,
Or victory's power destroy.
Her child's transparent joy,
But dared not quench the glad surprise,
Or victory's power destroy.
"Perhaps she'll need this proof," she sighed,
"Of hidden things made plain,
When in the depths of life she's tried,
And all fond hopes are slain."
"Of hidden things made plain,
When in the depths of life she's tried,
And all fond hopes are slain."
While thus she mused, as mothers will,
The little daughter fair
Rushed to her arms, all smiling still,
And said, while nestling there,
The little daughter fair
Rushed to her arms, all smiling still,
And said, while nestling there,
"Behind the clouds the sun does shine,
E'en while the rain comes down."
Ah, little girl
Of flaxen curl,
This wisdom is indeed
For future hours of need.
E'en while the rain comes down."
Ah, little girl
Of flaxen curl,
This wisdom is indeed
For future hours of need.
OUR KITTY'S TRICK.E
I know that all the boys and girls
Would be so glad to see
Our kitty do the little trick
She often does for me.
Would be so glad to see
Our kitty do the little trick
She often does for me.
When asked, "O kitty, where's the ball?"
She to my shoulder leaps,
And looks directly to the shelf,
Where from a box it peeps.
She to my shoulder leaps,
And looks directly to the shelf,
Where from a box it peeps.
She will not cease to look and beg,
Until I find the place
Where she can take between her teeth
The ball with easy grace.
Until I find the place
Where she can take between her teeth
The ball with easy grace.
Then quickly to the floor she jumps;
When, dropping first the ball,
She runs behind the open door
That leads into the hall.
When, dropping first the ball,
She runs behind the open door
That leads into the hall.
She waits, with only head in sight,
The ball to see me throw;
Then after it she scampers well
Some forty feet or so.
The ball to see me throw;
Then after it she scampers well
Some forty feet or so.
She never fails to bring it back;
Then lifts with wondrous grace
Her velvet paw to take the ball
From out its hiding place.
Then lifts with wondrous grace
Her velvet paw to take the ball
From out its hiding place.
This done, she nestles by my side,
And purrs while I caress,
Unconscious of the trick she's done,
Since three months old or less.
And purrs while I caress,
Unconscious of the trick she's done,
Since three months old or less.
She thus will lie in calm repose
So long as I am still;
But if I move to touch the ball,
Then all her nerves will thrill,
So long as I am still;
But if I move to touch the ball,
Then all her nerves will thrill,
Her eyes will shine, she'll quickly find
Her place behind the door,
And wait again to see the ball
Roll on the long hall floor.
Her place behind the door,
And wait again to see the ball
Roll on the long hall floor.
Ah, kitty dear, who told you how
To join thought, act, and sight?
Must not we think that in you dwells
The germ of mental light,
To join thought, act, and sight?
Must not we think that in you dwells
The germ of mental light,
The germ that makes you kin to us
In kind though not degree,
But which was quickened by His touch
For our supremacy?
In kind though not degree,
But which was quickened by His touch
For our supremacy?
E These verses, true in every detail, are only preserved in remembrance of a pet cat of our family for many years.
A MESSAGE.
A mountain hides within itself
This message grand and true,
Which at my bidding came to-day
For me to give to you:
This message grand and true,
Which at my bidding came to-day
For me to give to you:
"Drink deep of Nature's sweetest life,
While learning how to wait.
Stand strong against the tempest's strife,
Not questioning the fate.
Then shalt thou live above the din
Of petty things below,
Absorbing depths of life within,
The future to o'erflow."
While learning how to wait.
Stand strong against the tempest's strife,
Not questioning the fate.
Then shalt thou live above the din
Of petty things below,
Absorbing depths of life within,
The future to o'erflow."
At the foot of Mount Holyoke.
Transcribers' Notes
Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.
Simple typographical errors were corrected; inconsistent hyphenation was retained.
Footnotes have been moved to the ends of the poems that reference them.
It sometimes was unclear whether or not a new stanza began on a new page.
Page 32: Unbalanced closing quotation mark retained after: God's thought.
Page 78: "In perfect harmony" was printed as "perect".