This dear retreat that shaded ;
Autumn winds are round me now,
And the leaves have faded.
She whose heart was all my own,
In this summer-bower,
With all pleasant things has flown,
Sunbeam, bird, and flower !
But her memory will stay
With me, though we re parted
From the scene I turn away,
Lone and broken-hearted !
OH, THINK OF ME !
OH, think of me, my own beloved,
Whatever cares beset thee !
And when thou hast the falsehood proved,
Of those with smiles who met thee
While o er the sea, think, love, of me,
Who never can forget thee ;
Let memory trace the trysting-place,
Where I with tears regret thee.
150 MY BARK IS OUT UPON THE SEA.
Bright as yon star, within my mind,
A hand unseen hath set thee ;
There hath thine image been enshrined,
Since first, dear love, I met thee ;
So in thy breast I fain would rest,
If, haply, fate would let me
And live or die, so thou wert nigh,
To love or to regret me !
MY BARK IS OUT UPON THE SEA.
MY bark is out upon the sea
The moon s above ;
Her light a presence seems to me
Like woman s love.
My native land I ve left behind
Afar I roam ;
In other climes no hearts I 11 find
Like those at home.
Of all yon sisterhood of stars,
But one is true :
She paves my path with silver bars,
And beams like you,
WILL NOBODY MARRY ME ? 151
Whose purity the waves recall
In music s flow,
As round my bark they rise and fall
In liquid snow.
The freshening breeze now swells our sails !
A storm is on !
The weary moon s dim lustre fails
The stars are gone !
~Not so fades Love s eternal light
When storm-clouds weep ;
I know one heart s with me to-night
Upon the deep !
WILL NOBODY MARRY ME ?
HEIGH-HO ! for a husband ! Heigh-ho !
There s danger in longer delay !
Shall I never again have a beau ?
Will nobody marry me, pray !
I begin, to feel strange, I declare !
With beauty my prospects will fade
I d give myself up to despair
If I thought I should die an old maid 1
152 THE STAR OF LOVE.
I once cut the beaux in a huff
I thought it a sin and a shame
That no one had spirit enough
To ask me to alter my name.
So I turned up my nose at the short,
And cast down my eyes at the tall ;
But then I just did it in sport
And now I Ve no lover at all !
These men are the plague of my life :
Tis hard from so many to choose !
Should any one wish for a wife,
Could I have the heart to refuse ?
I don t know for none have proposed
Oh, dear me ! I m frightened, I vow !
Good gracious ! who ever supposed
That I should be single till now ?
THE STAR OF LOVE.
THE star of love now shines above,
Cool zephyrs crisp the sea ;
Among the leaves the wind-harp weaves
Its serenade for thee.
WELL-A-DAY ! 153
The star, the breeze, the wave, the trees,
Their minstrelsy unite,
But all are drear till thou appear
To decorate the night.
The light of noon streams from the moon,
Though with a milder ray ;
O er hill and grove, like woman s love,
It cheers us on our way.
Thus all that s bright the moon, the night,
The heavens, the earth, the sea,
Exert their powers to bless the hours
W dedicate to thee.
WELL-A-DAY !
LOVE comes and goes like a spell !
How, no one knows, nor can tell !
Now here now there then away
None dreameth where ! Well-a-day !
Love should be true as the star
Seen in the blue sky afar !
Now here now there like the lay
Of lutes in th> air ! Well-a-dav !
154 NOT MARRIED YET !
Should love depart, not a tie
Binds up the heart till we die !
Now here now there sad we stray \
Life is all care ! Well-a-day !
NOT MAKRIED YET!
I M single yet I m single yet !
And years have flown since I came out 1
In vain I sigh in vain I fret
Ye gods I what are the men about ^
I vow 1 7 m twenty ! ye powers !
A spinster s lot is hard to bear
On earth alone to pass her hours,
And afterward lead apes down tJwre I
No offer yet no offer yet !
I m puzzled quite to make it out :
For every beau my cap I set
What, what, what are the men about ?
They do n t propose they won t propose,
For fear, perhaps, I d not say, " Yes !"
Just let them try for Heaven knows
I m tired of single-blessedness.
LADY OF ENGLAND. 155
Not married yet* not married yet
The deuce is in the men, I fear !
I ? m like a something to be let,
And to be let alone that s clear.
They say, " She s pretty but no chink
And love without it runs in debt !"
It agitates my nerves to think
That I have had no offer yet.
LADY OF ENGLAND.
LADY OF ENGLAND o er the seas
Thy name was borne on every breeze,
Till all this sunset clime became
Familiar with Victoria s name.
Though seas divide us many a mile,
Yet, for the Queen of that fair isle,
From which our fathers sprung, there roves
A blessing from this Land of Groves.
Our Fatherland ! Fit theme for song !
When them art named, what memories throng!
Shall England cease our love to claim ?
Not while our language is the same.
156 OH, THIS LOVE !
Scion of kings ! so live and reign,
That, when thy nation s swelling strain
Is breathed amid our forests green,
We too may sing, " God save the Queen
OH, THIS LOVE !
Music " Jess Macfarlane."
OH, this love this love !
I ainse the passion slighted ;
But hearts that truly love,
Must break or be united.
Oh, this love I
When first he cam* to woo,
I little cared aboot him ;
But scene I felt as though
I could na live without him.
Oh, this love !
He brought to me the ring,
My hand asked o my mither-
I could na 7 bear the thought
That he should wed anither.
Oh, this love !
n
151
MARY,
And now I m a his ain
In a his joys I mingle ;
Nae for the wealth of warlds
Wad I again be single !
Oh, this love !
MARY.
ONE balmy summer night, Mary,
Just as the risen moon
Had thrown aside her fleecy veil,
We left the gay saloon ;
And in a green, sequestered spot,
Beneath a drooping tree,
Fonds words were breathed, by you forgot,
That still are dear to me, Mary,
That still are dear to me.
Oh, we were happy then, Mary
Time lingered on his way,
To crowd a lifetime in a night,
Whole ages in a day I
If star and sun would set and rise
Thus in our after years,
The world would be a paradise,
Aid not a vale of tears, Mary,
And not a vale of tears.
158 THE BEAM OF DEVOTIOX.
I live but in the past, Mary
The glorious days of old !
When love was hoarded in the heart,
As misers hoard their gold :
And often like a bridal train,
To music soft and low,
The by-gone moments cross my brain,
In all their summer glow, Mary,
In all their summer glow.
These visions form and fade, Mary,
As age comes stealing on,
To bring the light and leave the shade
Of days for ever gone !
The poet s brow may wear at last
The bays that round it fall ;
But love has rose-buds of the past
Far dearer than them all, Mary,
Far dearer than them all !
THE BEAM OF DEVOTION.
I NEVER could find a good reason
Why sorrow unbidden should stay,
And all the bright joys of life s season
Be driven unheeded away.
THE WELCOME AND FAREWELL. 159
Our cares would wake no more emotion,
Were we to our lot but resigned,
Than pebbles flung into the ocean,
That leave scarce a ripple behind.
The world has a spirit of beauty,
Which looks upon all for the best,
And while it discharges its duty,
To Providence leaves all the rest :
That spirit s the beam of devotion,
Which lights us through life to its clos^,
And sets, like the sun in the ocean,
More beautiful far than it rose.
THE WELCOME AND FAREWELL.
To meet, and part, as we have met and parted,
One moment cherished and the next forgot,
To wear a smile when almost broken-hearted,
I know full well is hapless woman s lot ;
Yet let me, to thy tenderness appealing,
Avert this brief but melancholy doom
Content that close beside the thorn of feeling,
Grows memory, like a rose, in guarded bloom.
160 ? TIS NOW THE PROMISED HOUR.
Love s history, dearest, is a sad one ever,
Yet often with a smile I ? ve heard it told!
Oh, there are records of the heart which never
Are to the scrutinizing gaze unrolled !
My eyes to thine may scarce again aspire
Still in thy memory, dearest let me dwell,
And hush, with this hope, the magnetic wire,
Wild with our mingled welcome and farewell !
TIS NOW THE PROMISED HOUR.
A SERENADE.
THE fountains serenade the flowers,
Upon their silver lute -
And, nestled in their leafy bowers,
The forest-birds are mute :
The bright and glittering hosts above
Unbar their golden gates,
While Nature holds her court of love,
And for her client waits.
Then, lady, wake in beauty rise !
T is now the promised hour,
When torches kindle in the skies
To light thee to thy bower.
THE SONGS OF HOME. 161
The day we dedicate to care
To love the witching night ;
For all that s beautiful and fair
In hours like these unite.
E en thus the sweets to flowerets given
The moonlight on the tree
And all the bliss of earth and heaven
Are mingled, love, in thee.
Then, lady, wake in beauty rise !
7 T is now the promised hour,
When torches kindle in the skies
To light thee to thy bower !
THE SONGS OF HOME.
OH, sing once more those dear, familiar lays,
Whose gliding measure every bosom thrills,
And takes my heart back to the happy days
When first I sung them on my native hills !
With the fresh feelings of the olden times,
I hear them now upon a foreign shore
The simple music and the artless rhymes !
Oh ; sing those dear, familiar lays once more,
Those cheerful lays of other days
Oh, sing those cheerful lays once more !
11
162 MASONIC HYMN.
Oh, sing once more those joy-provoking strains,
Which, half forgotten, in iny memory dwell ;
They send the life-blood bounding thro my veins,
And linger round me like a fairy spell.
The songs of home are to the human heart
Far dearer than the notes that song-birds pour,
And of our very nature form a part :
Then sing those dear, familiar lays once more !
Those cheerful lays of other days
Oh, sing those cheerful lays once more !
MASONIC HYMN.
OUR Order, like the ark of yore,
Upon the raging sea was tossed ;
Secure amid the billow s roar,
It moved, and nothing has been lost.
When elements discordant seek
To wreck what God in mercy saves,
The struggle is as vain and weak
As that of the retiring waves.
THE DISMISSED. 163
The Power who bade the waters cease,
The Pilot of the Pilgrim Band,
He gave the gentle dove of peace
The branch she bore them from the land
In him alone we put our trust,
With heart and hand and one accord,
Ascribing, with the true and just,
All "holiness* unto the Lord."
THE DISMISSED.
" I suppose she was right in rejecting my suit,
But why did she kick me down stairs?"
HALLECK S " Discarded."
THE wing of my spirit is broken,
My day-star of hope has declined ;
For a month not a word have I spoken
That s either polite or refined.
My mind s like the sky in bad weather,
When mist-clouds around us are curled :
And, viewing myself altogether,
I J m the veriest wretch in the world !
164 THE DISMISSED.
I wander about like a vagrant
I spend half my time in the street ;
My conduct J a improper and flagrant,
For I quarrel with all that I meet.
My dress, too, is wholly neglected,
My hat I pull over my brow,
And I look like a fellow suspected
Of wishing to kick up a row.
In vain I ve endeavored to borrow
From friends "some material aid"
For my landlady views me with sorrow,
When she thinks of the bill that s unpaid.
Abroad my acquaintances flout me,
The ladies cry, " Bless us, look there !"
And the little boys cluster about me,
And sensible citizens stare.
One says, "He s a victim to cupid ;"
Another, " His conduct s too bad ;"
A third, " He is awfully stupid ;"
A fourth, " He is perfectly mad !"
And then I am watched like a bandit,
Mankind with me all are at strife :
By heaven no longer I 11 stand it,
But quick put an end to my life !
LORD OF THE CASTLE. 165
I >ve thought of the means yet I shudder
At dagger or ratsbane or rope ;
At drawing with lancet my blood, or
At razor without any soap !
Suppose I should fall in a duel,
And thus leave the stage with eclat 1
But to die with a bullet is cruel
Besides t would be breaking the law !
Yet one way remains : to the river
I 11 fly from the goadings of care !
But drown ? oh, the thought makes me shiver
A terrible death, I declare !
Ah, no ! I 11 once more see my Kitty,
And parry her cruel disdain
Beseech her to take me in pity,
And never dismiss me again.
LORD OF THE CASTLE.
"LORD of the castle! oh, where goest thou?
Why is the triumph of pride on thy brow ? 7
" Pilgrim, my bridal awaits me to-day,
Over the mountains away atid away."
166 THE FALLEX BRAVE.
" Flora in beauty and solitude roves,
Listening for thee in the shade of the groves."
" Pilgrim, I hasten her truth to repay,
Over the mountains away and away."
" Guided by honor, how brilliant the road
Leading from cottage to castle abode 1"
" Pilgrim, its dictates I learned to obey,
Over the mountains away and away."
THE FALLEN BRAVE.
FROM cypress and from laurel boughs
Are twined, in sorrow and in pride,
The leaves that deck the mouldering brows
Of those who for their country died :
In sorrow, that the sable pall
Enfolds the valiant and the brave ;
In pride that those who nobly fall
Win garlands that adorn the grave.
The onset the pursuit the roar
Of victory o er the routed foe
Will startle from their rest no more
The fallen brave of Mexico.
SONG OF THE TROUBADOUR. 16t
To God alone such spirits yield !
He took them in their strength and bloom,
When gathering, on the tented field,
The garlands woven for the tomb.
The shrouded flag the drooping spear
The muffled drum the solemn bell
The funeral train the dirge the bier
The mourners sad and last farewell
Are fading tributes to the worth
Of those whose deeds this homage claim ;
But Time, who mingles them with earth
Keeps green the garlands of their fame.
SONG OF THE TROUBADOUR.
IN IMITATION OP THE LAYS OF THE OLDEN TIME.
" COME, list to the lay of the olden time,"
A troubadour sung on a moonlit stream :
" The scene is laid in a foreign clime,
" A century back and love is the theme."
Love was the theme of the troubadour s rhyme,
Of lady and lord of the olden time.
168 SONG OF THE TROUBADOUR.
" At an iron-barred turret, a lady fair
11 Knelt at the close of the vesper-chime :
11 Her beads she numbered in silent prayer
"For one far away, whom to love was her
crime.
" Love," sung the troubadour, "love was a crime,
" When fathers were stern, in the olden time.
" The warder had spurned from the castle gate
"The minstrel who wooed her in flowing
rhyme
" He came back from battle in regal estate
" The bard was a prince of the olden time.
11 Love/ sung the troubadour, "listened to rhyme,
" And welcomed the bard of the olden time.
" The prince in disguise had the lady sought ;
" To chapel they hied in their rosy prime :
" Thus worth won a jewel that wealth never
bought,
* A fair lady s heart of the olden time.
" The moral," the troubadour sung, " of my rhyme,
" Was well understood in the olden time."
CHAMPIONS OF LIBERTY. 169
CHAMPIONS OF LIBERTY.
THE pride of all our chivalry,
The name of Worth will stand,
While throbs the pulse of liberty
Within his native land :
The wreath his brow was formed to wear,
A nation s tears will freshen there.
The young companion of his fame,
In war and peace allied,
With garlands woven round his name,
Reposes at his side :
Duncan, whose deeds for evermore
Will live amid his cannon s roar.
Gates, in his country s quarrel bold,
When she to arms appealed,
Sought like the Christian knights of old,
His laurels on the field :
Where victory rent the welkin-dome,
He earned a sepulchre at home.
170 CHAMPIONS OF LIBERTY.
The drum-beat of the bannered brave,
The requiem and the knell,
The volley o er the soldier s grave,
His comrades last farewell,
Are tributes rendered to the dead,
And sermons to the living read.
But there s a glory brighter far
Than all that earth has given ;
A beacon, like the index-star,
That points the way to heaven :
It is a life well spent its close
The cloudless sundown of repose.
That such was theirs for whom we mourn,
These obsequies attest ;
And though in sorrow they are borne
Unto their final rest,
A guide will their example be
To future champions of the free.
THE HUNTER S CAROL. 1 7 1
THE HUNTER S CAROL.
A MERRY life does the hunter lead !
He wakes with the dawn of day ;
He whistles his dog he mounts his steed,
And scuds to the woods away !
The lightsome tramp of the deer he 11 mark,
As they troop in herds along ;
And his rifle startles the cheerful lark
As he carols his morning song !
The hunter s life is the life for me !
That is the life for a man !
Let others sing of a home on the sea,
But match me the woods if you can !
Then give me a gun I Ve an eye to mark
The deer as they bound along !
My steed, dog, and gun, and the cheerful lark
To carol my morning son* !
172 WASHINGTON S MONUMENT.
WASHINGTON S MONUMENT.
A MONUMENT to Washington ?
A tablet graven with his name ?
Green be the mound it stands upon,
And everlasting as his fame !
His glory fills the land the plain,
The moor, the mountain, and the mart !
More firm than column, urn, or fane,
His monument the human heart.
The Christian patriot hero sage !
The chief from heaven in mercy sent ;
His deeds are written on the age
His country is his monument.
" The sword of Gideon and the Lord "
Was mighty in his mighty hand
The God who guided he adored,
And with His blessing freed the land.
The first in war the first in peace
The first in hearts that freemen own ;
THE SISTER S APPEAL. 1?3
Unparalleled till time shall cease
He lives immortal and alone.
Yet let the rock-hewn tower arise,
High to the pathway of the sun,
And speak to the approving skies
Our gratitude to Washington.
THE SISTER S APPEAL.
A FRAGMENT.
**********
You remember don t you, brother
In our early years,
The counsels of our poor, dear mother,
And her hopes and fears ?
She told us to love one another
Brother, dry your tears !
We are only two, dear brother,
In this babel wide !
In the churchyard sleeps poor mother,
By our father s side !
Then let us cherish one another
Till in death we bide.
174 WALTER GAY.
SONG OF THE REAPERS.
JOYOUS the carol that rings in the mountains,
While the cleared rales are refreshed by the
fountains
After the harvest the cheerful notes fall,
And all the glad reapers re-echo the call !
La ra la la, &c.
Oh, how the heart bounds at that simple refrain !
Dear haunts of my childhood, I m with you again I
Green be your valleys, enriched by the rills,
And long may that carol be sung on your hills !
La ra la la, &c.
WALTER GAY.
To know a man well, it is said, Walter Gay,
On shipboard with him you should be :
If this maxim >s true, then well I know you,
For we sailed together the sea, Walter Gay,
For we sailed together the sea.
WALTER GAY. 115
I now watch the star from the strand, Walter
Gay,
As oft from the surge I did then :
Like that all alone you sparkled and shone,
The clear northern star among men, Walter
Gay,
The clear northern star among men !
May your future course, like the past, Walter
Gay,
From wreck and misfortune be free :
Your sorrows and care fade into the air,
Or vanish like foam on the sea, Walter Gay,
Or vanish like foam on the sea !
The friendship that s formed on the wave, Wal
ter Gay,
Is deeper than plummet may sound :
That can not decay till we lose our way,
Or death runs the vessel aground, Walter Gay,
Or death runs the vessel aground 1
When life s voyage ends, may your bark, Wal
ter Gay,
Spread sail like the wings of a dove
And, when lulls the wind, safe anchorage find
Within the good harbor above, Walter Gay,
Within the 2:001! harbor above !
176 GROUNDS FOR DIVORCE.
GROUNDS FOR DIVORCE.
HE.
WHAT can a man do when a woman s perverse,
And determined to have her own way ?
SHE.
At the alter you took me for better or worse :
Am I worse than you took me for say,
Silly elf?
Am 1 worse than you took me for, say ?
HE.
For an angel I took you in beauty and worth
The priest a mere woman has given !
SHE.
A man would prefer a true woman on earth,
To all the bright angels in heaven
Silly elf! -
To all the bright angels in heaven !
GROUNDS FOR DIVORCE. If 7
HE.
You are ever ready my feelings to hurt
At the veriest trifle, of course.
SHE.
Forgetting a button to sew on your shirt
You deem a good ground for divorce
Silly elf!
You deem a good ground for divorce !
HE.
Well, marriage a lottery is, and a blank
Some men surely draw all their lives.
SHE.
Such fellows as you, sir, themselves have to thank ;
Good husbands make always good wives
Silly elf !
Good husbands make always good wives !
12
178 TEMPERANCE SONG.
TEMPERANCE SONG.
(WRITTEN FOR THE LADY BY WHOM IT WAS SUNG.)
AIR " Some love to roam."
SOME love to stroll where the wassail-bowl
And the wine-cups circle free ;
None of that band shall win my hand :
No ! a sober spouse for me.
Like cheerful streams when morning beams,
With him my life would flow ;
Not down the crags, the drunkard drags
His wife to want and wo !
Oh ! no, no, no ! oh ! no, no, no !
At midnight dark, the drunkard mark
Oh, what a sight, good lack !
As home draws near, to him appear
Grim fiends who cross his track !
His children s name he dooms to shame
His wife to want and wo ;
She is betrayed, for wine is made
Her rival and her foe.
Oh ! no, no, no ! oh ! no, no, no !
BOAT-SONG. 1 ."
BOAT-SONG.
PULL away merrily over the waters !
Tug to your oars for the wood-tangled shore ;
We 7 re off and afloat with earth s loveliest daugh
ters,
Worth all the argosies wave ever bore.
Pull away gallantly pull away valiantly
Pull with a swoop, boys ; and pull for the
shore :
Merrily, merrily, bend to the oar !
Pull away cheerily ! land is before us
Green groves are flinging their balm to the
spray ;
The sky, like the spirit of love, bending o er us,
Lights her bright torches to show us the way.
Pull away charily pull away warily
Pull with a nerve, boys ; together give way :
Merrily, merrily, pull to the lay !
Pull away heartily light winds are blowing,
Crisping the ripples that dance at our side ;
180 WILLIE.
The moon bathes in silver the path we are going,
And night is arrayed in her robes like a bride.
Pull away readily pull away steadily
Pull with a will, boys, and sing as we glide
Merrily, merrily, over the tide!
WILLIE.
I CLASP your hand in mine, Willie,
And fancy I Ve the art
To see, while gazing in your face,
What s passing in your heart :
7 T is joy an honest man to hold,
That gem of modest worth,
More prized than all the sordid gold
Of all the mines of earth, Willie,
Of all the mines of earth.
I ve marked your love of right, Willie,
Your proud disdain of wrong ;
I know you ? d rather aid the weak
Than battle for the strong.
The golden rule religion s stay
With constancy pursue,
Which renders others all that they
On earth can render you, Willie,
On earth can render you.
WILLIE, 181
A conscience void of guile, Willie,
A disposition kind,
A nature, gentle and sincere,
Accomplished and refined :
A mind that was not formed to bow,
An aspiration high,
Are written on your manly brow,
And in your cheerful eye, Willie,
And in your cheerful eye.
I never look at you, Willie,
But with an anxious prayer
That you will ever be to me
What now I know you are.
I do not find a fault to chide,
A foible to annoy,
For you are all your father s pride,
And all your mother s joy, Willie,
And all your mother s joy.
You re all that I could hope, Willie,
And more than I deserve ;
Your pressure of affection now
I feel in every nerve.
I love you not for station land
But for yourself alone :
And this is why I clasp your hand,
So fondly in my own, Willie,
So fondly in my own.
182 THE ROCK OF THE PILGRIMS.
THE ROCK OF THE PILGRIMS.
A ROCK in the wilderness welcomed our sires,
From bondage far over the dark-rolling sea ;
On that holy altar they kindled the fires,
Jehovah, which glow in our bosoms for Thee.
Thy blessings descended in sunshine and shower,
Or rose from the soil that was sown by Thy
hand ;