Let us in vain petition for it more.



Release us from the sorrows that attend us !

Our nerves are torn at every vain we bleed!
Almighty Parent ! with thy strength befriend us !

Else we are helpless in our time of need !
Sustain us, Lord, with thy pure Holy Spirit

New vigor give to Nature s faltering frame ;
And, at life s close, permit us to inherit

The hope that s promised in the Saviour s name,



THE UNION. 21*1



THE UNION.

THIS the word beyond all others,

Makes us love our country most,
Makes us feel that we are brothers,

And a heart-united host !
With hosanna let our banner

From the house-tops be unfurled,
While the nation holds her station

With the mightiest of the world !
Take your harps from silent willows,

Shout the chorus of the free ;
" States are all distinct as billows,

Union one as is the sea !"



From the land of groves that bore us
He s a traitor who would swerve I

By the flag now waving o er us
We the compact will preserve !

Those who gained it and sustained it,
Were unto each other true,



218 WE PART FOR EVER.

And the fable well is able
To instruct us what to do !

Take your harps from silent willows,
Shout the chorus of the free ;

" States are all distinct as billows,
Union one as is the sea !"



WE PART FOR EVER.

FARE thee well we part for ever 1

All regrets are now in vain !
Fate decrees that we must sever,

Ne er to meet on earth again.
Other skies may bend above thee,

Other hearts may seek thy shrine,
But no other e er will love thee

With the constancy of mine.
Yet farewell we part for ever !

All regrets are now in vain !
Fate decrees that we must sever,

Ne er to meet on earth again.
Fare thee well !

Like the shadow on the dial
Lingers still our parting kiss !

Life has no severer trial,
Death no pang to equal this.



COME TO ME IX CHERRY-TIME. 219

All the world is now before thee,

Every clime to roam at will,
But within the land that bore thee,

One fond heart will love thee still.
Yet farewell we part for ever !

All regrets are now in vain !
Fate decrees that we must sever,

Ne er to meet on earth again.
Fare thee well !



COME TO ME IN CHERRY-TIME.

COME to me in cherry -time,

And, as twilight closes,
We will have a merry time,

Here among the roses !
When the breezes crisp the tide,

And the lindens quiver,
In our bark we 11 safely glide

Down the rocky river !

When the stars, with quiet ray,
All the hill-tops brighten,

Cherry-ripe we 11 sing and play
Where the cherries ripen !



220 ON THE DEATH OF MRS. JESSIE WILLIS.

Then come to me in cherry-time,
And, as twilight closes,

We will have a merry time
Here among the roses.



ON THE DEATH OF MRS. JESSIE WILLIS.

AFTER life s eventful mission,
In her truthfulness and worth,

Like a calm and gentle vision
She has passed away from earth.

Lovely she in frame and feature !

Blended purity and grace !
The Creator in the creature

Glowed in her expressive face !

Angel of a nature human 1

Essence of celestial love !
Heart and soul of trusting woman,

Gone to her reward above !

Mourners, dry your tears of sorrow
Read the golden promise o er :

There will dawn a cheerful morrow
When we meet to part no more.



THANK GOD FOR PLEASANT WEATHER. 221



THANK GOD FOR PLEASANT WEATHER.

THANK God for pleasant weather !

Chant it, merry rills !
And clap jour hands together,

Ye exulting hills !
Thank Him, teeming valley !

Thank Him, fruitful plain !
For the golden sunshine,

And the silver rain.

Thank God, of good the giver

Shout it, sportive breeze !
Respond, oh tuneful river !

To the nodding trees.
Thank Him, bud and birdling !

As ye grow and sing !
Mingle in thanksgiving

Every living thing !

Thank God, with cheerful spirit,
In a glow of love,



222 THE v MASTER S SONG.

For what we here inherit,
And our hopes above !

Universal Nature
Revels in her birth,

When God, in pleasant weather,
Smiles upon the earth !



THE MASTER S SONG.

WRITTEN FOR THE FREEMASONS OF ST. JOHN S LODGE
NO 1, NEW YORK.

MEMBERS of an order

Ancient as the earth ;
All within our border

Realize its worth.
Genial is the greeting

That awaits us there,
On the level meeting,

Parting on the square.
Like the workmen olden,

Who our craft designed,
We the precept golden

Ever bear in mind.

Masons never falter,
We each other know,



THE MASTER S SONG. 223

As around the altar

Hand in hand we go ;
Loud hosannas singing

To our Source above,
And heart-offerings bringing

To the God of Love.
Like the workmen olden,

Who our craft designed,
We the precept golden

Ever bear in inind.



There s a mystic beauty

In our working plan,
Teaching man his duty

To his fellow-man :
As a band of brothers,

Ever just and true,
Do we unto others

As we d have them do.
Like the workmen olden,

Who our craft designed,
We the precept golden

Ever bear in mind.



224 THE MISSING SHIP.



THE MISSING SHIP.

SHE left the port in gallant style,

With sails and streamers full and free !
I watched her course for many a mile

Far out upon the distant sea !
At dusk she lessened to a speck,

And then I could not trace her more !
Sad hearts were beating on her deck,

Sad hearts were beating on the shore.

Two of the outward bound I knew,

One beautiful, the other brave
The master worthy, and the crew

Born to contend with wind and wave :
For travel some, and some for gain,

And some for health had gone abroad ;
Our prayers were with them on the main,

God-speed the ship and all on board !

That vessel never reached the land !

No tidings of her ever came !
Those who beheld her leave the strand,

For years in anguish heard her name !



JEANNIE MARSH. 225



And even now in vain they try
To breathe it with a tranquil lip,

Or hide the moisture of the eye

While speaking of that missing ship.



JEANNIE MARSH.

JEAXNIE MARSH of Cherry Yalley,
At whose call the muses rally

Of all the nine none so divine
As Jeannie Marsh of Cherry Yalley.
She minds me of her native scenes,

Where she was born among the cherries ;
Of peaches, plums, and nectarines,

Pears, apricots, and ripe strawberries.

Jeannie Marsh of Cherry Yalley,
In whose name the muses rally ;

Of all the nine none so divine
As Jeannie Marsh of Cherry Yalley.
A sylvan nymph of queenly grace,

A goddess she in form and feature ;
The sweet expression of the place,

A dimple in the smile of nature.
15



226



LUCY.

THANKS for your stanzas, Lucy,

My sister dear in song !
How many pleasant fancies

With these sweet numbers throng,
Which, like spring s tuneful brooklets,

Trip merrily along.

Sometimes, my sportive Lucy,
Your words will whirl around,

Like foam-beads on the water,
Or rose-leaves on the ground,

Or waltzers in the ball-room,
To music s airy sound.

There is, my gentle Lucy,

In all you say or do,
A bright poetic impulse,

Original and true,
Which Art can not acquire,

And Nature gave to you.



EPITAPHS. 22 1



The olden fable, Lucy,

My muse to you would bring ;
The bird that can but will not,

Should be compelled to sing !
The story and its moral

To modern memories cling.

Awake the harp, clear Lucy !

Like the electric wire
It will convey to millions

The heart-absorbing fire !
And those who lean to listen

Will linger to admire.



EPITAPH.

ALL that s beautiful in woman,

All we in her nature love,
All that s good in all that s human,

Passed this gate to courts above.

IN MEMORY OF JOHN W. FRANCIS, JR.

HE was the pulse-beat of true hearts,
The love-light of fond eyes :

When such a man from earth departs,
Tis the survivor dies.



228 NATURE S NOBLEMEN.



NATURE S NOBLEMEN.

A FRAGMENT.

*****

WHEN winter s cold and summer s heat

Shall come and go again,
A hundred years will be complete

Since Marion crossed the main,
And brought unto this wild retreat

His dark-eyed wife of Spain.

He was the founder of a free

And independent band,
Who lit the fires of liberty

The revolution fanned :
His patent of nobility

Read in the ransomed land I

Around his deeds a lustre throngs,

A heritage designed
To teach the world to spurn the wrongs

Once threatened all mankind :
To his posterity belongs

The peerage of the mind.

*****



A WALL-STREET LYRIC. 329



A WALL-STREET LYRIC.

JOHN was thought both rich and great

Dick so-so, but comfortable :
John lived at a splendid rate

Coach and horses in his stable,
John could ride when Dick should walk
(This excited people s talk !)
For John s wealth, Dick s rugged health

Few would exchange if they were able !

Dick was friendly years ago

With ingratitude John paid him :
Dick found this was always so

When John had a chance to aid him.
John still cut a brilliant dash,
While he could command the cash,
But for Dick, whom John would kick,
At last a change of luck has made him !

John, tis said, is " bound" to lose
Lots by rail, and bus, and cable !

And the banks his notes refuse,
Now they think his state unstable.



230 KING COTTON.

This may be a story strange
Of the bulls and bears on change,
Where the truth, in age and youth,
Is often a poetic fable !



KING COTTON.

OLD Cotton is king ; boys aha !

With his locks so fleecy and white !
He shines among kings like a star !

And his is the sceptre of right,
Boys, of right,

And his is the sceptre of right !

Old Cotton, the king, has no care,
No queen, and no heir to his throne,

No courtiers, his triumphs to share,
He rules his dominions alone,

Boys, alone !
He rules his dominions alone !

Old Cotton, the merry old boy !
Like smoke from the pipe in his mouth

His years glide away in their joy,
At home, in the warm sunny south,

Boys, the south,
At home, in the warm sunny south !



WORDS. 231

Old Cotton will pleasantly reign
When other kings painfully fall,

And ever and ever remain
The mightiest monarch of all,

Boys, of all,
The mightiest monarch of all !

Then here s to old Cotton, the king !

His true loyal subjects are we :
We ll laugh and we ll quaff and we ll sing,

A jolly old fellow is he,
Boys, is he,

A jolly old fellow is he !



WORDS

AI>APTEI> TO A SPANISH MELODY.

MY lady hath as soft a hand
As any queen in fairy-land ;
And, hidden in her tiny boot,
As dainty and as light a foot.

Her foot !
Her little hand and foot !

Xo star that kindles in the sky
Burns brighter than my lady s eye ;



232 LOVE IN EXILE.

And ne er before did beauty grace
So fair a form, so sweet a face !

Her face !
Her gentle form and face !

My lady hath a golden heart,
Free from the dross of worldly art ;
Which, in the sight of heaven above,
Is mine with all its hoarded love !

Her love !
Her boundless wealth of love !



LOVE IN EXILE.

ADAPTED TO A HUNGARIAN MELODY.

MY heart I gave you with my hand,

In brighter days than these,
In that down-trodden father-land

Beyond the distant seas,
Where you were all the world to me,

Devoted, fond, and true,
And I, in our prosperity,

Was all the world to you !
Robbed by a tyrant s iron sway,
We re banished from that land away !



TO THE EVENING STAR. 233

Sad wanderers from our native home !

A ruler in a foe !
An exiled caravan we roam ;

But hand in hand we go !
And thus whatever fate betide

We bless our lot in life,
Since no misfortunes may divide

The husband and the wife !
Here we defy the tyrant s will,
We re happy in each other still !



TO THE EVENING STAR.

THE woods waved welcome in the breeze,

When, many years ago,
Lured by the songs of birds and bees,

I sought the dell below ;
And there, in that secluded spot,

Where silver streamlets roved,
Twined the green ivy round the cot

Of her I fondly loved.

In dreams still near that porch I stand

To listen to her vow !
Still feel the pressure of her hand

Upon my burning brow !



234 WELCOME HOME.

And here, as in the days gone by,
With joy I meet her yet,

And mark the lore-light of her eyes,
Fringed with its lash of jet.

O fleeting vision of the past !

From memory glide away !
Ye were too beautiful to last,

Too good to longer stay !
But why, attesting evening star,

This sermon sad recall :
" Than love and lose *tis better far

To never love at all!"



WELCOME HOME.

MY Mary s voice ! It is the hour

She promised to be here :
Taught by love s mysterious power,

I know that she is near.
I hear the melody she sings

Beneath our happy dome,
And now the woodland cheerly rings

With Mary s welcome home.



THE SYCAMORE SHADE. 235

My Mary s voice ! I hear it thrill

In rapture on the gale,
As she comes gliding down the hill

To meet me in the vale.
In all the world, on land or sea,

Where er I chance to roam,
No music is so sweet to me

As Mary s welcome home.



THE SYCAMORE SHADE.

I KNEW a sweet girl, with a bonny blue eye,

Who was born in the shade

The wild sycamore made,

Where the brook sang its song

All the summer-day long,
And the moments went merrily by,
Like the birdlings the moments flew by.

I knew a fair maid, soul-enchanting in grace,

Who replied to my vow,

jNTeath the sycamore bough,

" Like the brook to the sea,

Oh, I yearn, love, for thee l n
And she hid in my bosom her face
In my bosom, her beautiful face.



236 UP THE HUDSON.

I have a dear wife, who is ever my guide !

Wooed and won in the shade

The wild sycamore made,

Where the brook sings its song

All the summer-day long,
And the moments in harmony glide,
Like our lives they in harmony glide.



UP THE HUDSON.

SONG AND CHORUS.

UP the Hudson ! Fleetly gliding

To our haunts among the trees !
Joy the gallant vessel guiding

With a fresh and cheerful breeze !
Wives and dear ones yearn to meet us -

(Hearts that love us to the core !)
And with fond expressions greet us

As we near the welcome shore !



Ho ! ye inland seas and islands !
(Echo follows where we go ! )

Ho ! ye headlands, hills, and highlands !
Ho ! ye Undercliffeans, ho !



ONLY THINE. 237

Up the Hudson! Rock and river,

Grove and glen pronounce His praise,
Who, of every " Good the Giver,"

Leads us through these pleasant ways !
Care recedes like water-traces

Of our bark, as on we glide,
Where the hand of nature graces

Homesteads on the Hudson side !

CHORUS.

Ho ! ye inland seas and islands I

(Echo follows where we go !)
Ho ! ye headlands, hills, and highlands !

Ho ! ye Undercliffeans, ho 1



ONLY THINE.
I KNOW that thou art mine, my love,

I know that thou art fair ;
And lovelier than the orange-flowers

That bind thy glossy hair :
That thou hast every gentle grace

Which nature can design

I know that thou art mine, my love,
I know that I am thine :
Yes, thine, my love,
I m thine, my love,
Thine, thine, and only thine.



238 EPIGRAMS.

1 know that thou art true, my love,

And welcome as the breeze
Which comes, with healing on its wings,

Across the summer seas :
That thou hast every winning charm

Which culture may refine
I know that thou art mine, my love,

I know that I am thine.
Yes, thine, my love,
I m thine, my love,

Thine, thine, and only thine.



EPIGRAMS.

ON READING GRIMES ATTACK UPON CLINTON.

T is the opinion of the town

That Grim s a silly elf :
In trying to write Clinton down,

He went right down himself.

ON HEARING THAT MOUSE DID NOT " INVENT" THE TELEGRAPH.

FIRST they said it would not do ;

But, when he got through it,
Then they vowed they always knew

That he didn t do it !
Lies are rolling stones, of course,
But they can t adhere to Morse.



THEATRICAL ADDRESSES, 239



ADDRESS

FOR THE BENEFIT OF WILLIAM DUNLAP.
(SPOKEN BY MRS, SHAKPE)

WHAT gay assemblage greets my wondering

sight !

What scene of splendor conjured here to
night !

What voices murmur, and what glances gleam!
Sure t is some flattering unsubstantial dream.
The house is crowded everybody s here
For beauty famous, or to science deaf;
Doctors and lawyers, judges, belles, and beaux,
Poets and painters and Heaven only knows
Whom else beside ! And see, gay ladies sit
Lighting with smiles that fearful place, the pit
(A fairy change ah, pray continue it.)
Gray heads are here too, listening to my rhymes,
Full of the spirit of departed times ;
Grave men and studious, strangers to my sight,
All gather round me on this brilliant night.
And welcome are ye all. Not now ye come
To speak some trembling poet s awful doom



240 THEATRICAL ADDRESSES.

With frowning eyes a "want of mind" to trace
In some new actor ? s inexperienced face,
Or e en us old ones (oh, for shame !) to rate
"With study good in time but never

great :"

Not like yon travelled native, just to say
"Folks in this country can not act a play
They can t pon honor I" How the creature

. starts !

His wit and whiskers came from foreign parts !
Kay, madam, spare your blushes you I mean
There close beside him oh, you re full nine
teen

You need not shake your flowing locks at me
The man, your sweetheart then I m dumb,

you see ;

I 11 let him off you ll punish him in time,
Or I ve no skill in prophecy or rhyme !
A nobler motive fills your bosoms now,
To wreathe the laurel round the silvered brow
Of one who merits it if any can
The artist, author, and the honest man.
With equal charms his pen and pencil drew
Bright scenes, to nature and to virtue true.
Full oft upon these boards hath youth appeared,
And oft your smiles his faltering footsteps cheered;
But not alone on budding genius smile,
Leaving the ripened sheaf unowned the while ;



THEATRICAL ADDRESSES. 241

To boyish hope not every bounty give,
And only youth and beauty bid to live.
Will you forget the services long past
Turn the old war-horse out to die at last ?
When, his proud strength and noble fleetness o er,
His faithful bosom dares the charge no more !
Ah, no ! The sun that loves his beams to shed
Round every opening floweret s tender head,
With smiles as kind his genial radiance throws^
To cheer the sadness of the fading rose :
Thus he, whose merit claims this dazzling crowd,
Points to the past, and has his claims allowed ;
Looks brightly forth, his faithful journey done,
And rests in triumph like the setting sun.



ADDRESS

FOB THE BENEFIT OF JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES.
(SPOKEN BY MRS. CHAPMAN.)

NAY, Mr. Simpson ! 7 T is not kind polite
To shut me out, sir ? I m in such a fright !
I can not speak the lines, I m sure ! Oh, fie 1
To say I must ! but if I must I 11 try !

From him I turn to these more generous souls,
The drama s patrons and the friends of KNOWLES.
16



242 THEATRICAL ADDRESSES.

Why, what a brilliant galaxy is here !
What stars adorn this mimic hemisphere !
Names that shirie brightest on our country s page!
The props of science literature the stage !
Above below around me woman smiles,
The fairest floweret of these western wilds
All come to pay the tribute of their praise
To the first dramatist of modern days :
And welcome, to the green home of the free,
With heart and hand, the bard of liberty !

His is a wizard- wand. Its potent spell
Broke the deep slumber of the patriot Tell,
And placed him on his native hills again,
The pride and glory of his fellow-men !
The poet speaks for Rome Virginia bleeds !
Bold Caius Gracchus in the forum pleads !
Alfred the Great, because the good and wise,
Bids prostrate England burst her bonds and rise !
Sweet Bess, the Beggar s Daughter, beauty s

queen,

Walks forth the joy and wonder of the scene !
The Hunchback enters kindly fond se
vere
And last, behold the glorious Wife appear !

These are the bright creations of a mind
Glowing with genius, chastened and refined.



THEATRICAL ADDRESSES. 243

In all he s written, be this praise his lot :

" Not one word, dying, would he wish to blot !

Upon my life t is no such easy thing
To laud the bard, unless an eagle s wing
My muse would take ; and, fixing on the sun
Her burning eye, soar as his own has done !

Did you speak, sir? What, madam, did he

say?

Wrangling ! for shame ! before your wedding-
day !

Nay, gentle lady, by thine eyes of blue,
And vermeil blushes, I did not mean you !
Bless me, what friends at every glance I see !
Artists and authors men of high degree ;
Grave politicians, who have weighed each chance,
The next election, and the war with France ;
Doctors, just come from curing half a score
And belles, from killing twice as many more ;
Judges, recorders, aldermen, and mayors,
Seated, like true republicans, down stairs !
All wear a glow of sunshine in their faces
Might well become Apollo and the graces,
Except one yonder, with a look infernal,
Like a blurred page from Fanny Kemble s Journal !

But to my task. The muse, when I began,
Spoke of the writer welcome ye the man.



244 THEATRICAL ADDRESSES.

Genius, at best, acts but an humble part,
Unless obedient to an honest heart.
And such a one is his, for whom, to-night,
These walls are crowded with this cheering sight.
Ye love the poet oft have conned him o er,
Knew ye the man, ye 7 d love him ten times more.
Ye critics, spare him from your tongue and quill ;
Ye gods, applaud him ; and ye fops be still !



ADDRESS

FOR THE BENEFIT OF HENRY PLACIDE.
(SPOKEN BY MBS. HILSON.)

THE music s done. Be quiet, Mr. Durie !
Your bell and whistle put me in a fury !
Don t ring up yet, sir I ve a word to say
Before the curtain rises for the play !

Your pardon, gentlefolks, nor think me bold,
Because I thus our worthy prompter scold :
T was all feigned anger. This enlightened age
Requires a ruse to bring one on the stage !

Well, here I am, quite dazzled with the sight
Presented on this brilliant festal night !



THEATRICAL ADDRESSES. 245

Where er I turn, whole rows of patrons sit
The house is full box, gallery, and pit !
Who says the New- York public are unkind ?
I know them well, and plainly speak my mind
"It is our right," the ancient poet sung
He knew the value of a woman s tongue !
With this I will defend ye and rehearse
Five glorious Ads of yours in modern verse ;
Each one concluding with a generous deed
For Dunlap, Cooper, Woodworth, Knowles, Pla
cid e !

? T was nobly done, ye patriots and scholars !
Besides they netted twenty thousand dollars !
"A good round sum," in these degenerate times
" This bank-note world," so called in Halleck s

rhymes ;

And proof conclusive, you will frankly own,
In liberal actions New- York stands alone.



Though roams he oft mong green poetic bowers,
The actor s path is seldom strewn with flowers.
His is a silent, secret, patient toil
While others sleep, he burns the midnight oil
Pores o er his books thence inspiration draws,
And waste s his life to merit your applause !
ye, who come the laggard hours to while,
And with the laugh-provoking muse to smile,



246 THEATRICAL ADDRESSES.

Remember this : the mirth that cheers you so,
Shows but the surface not the depths below !
Then judge not lightly of the actor s art,
Who smiles to please you, with a breaking heart !
Neglect him not in his hill-climbing course,
Nor treat him with less kindness than your horse :
Up hill, indulge him down the deep descent,
Spare and don t urge him when his strength is

spent ;

Impel him briskly o er the level earth,
But in the stable don t forget his worth !
So with the actor while you work him hard,
Be mindful of his claims to your regard.

But hold ! methinks some carping cynic here
Will greet my homely image with a sneer.
Well let us see I would the monster view :
Man with umbrageous whiskers, is it you ?
Ah, no I was mistaken : every brow
Beams with benevolence and kindness now ;
Beauty and fashion all the circles grace
And scowling Envy here were out of place 1
On every side the wise and good appear-
The very pillars of the State are here !
There sit the doctors of the legal clan ;
There all the city s rulers, to a man ;
Critics and editors, and learned M. D. S,
Buzzing and busy, like a hive of bees ;



THEATRICAL ADDRESSES. 241

And there, as if to keep us all in order,

Our worthy friends the Mayor and the Recorder !

Well, peace be with you! Friends of native

worth,

Yours is the power to call it into birth ;
Yours is the genial influence smiles upon
The budding flowerets opening to the sun.
They all around us court your fostering hand
Rear them with care, in beauty they ll expand
With grateful odors well repay your toil,
Equal to those sprung from a foreign soil ;
And more Placides bask in your sunshine then,
The first of actors and the best of men.



THE

MAID OF SAXONY;

OR,

WHO S THE TRAITOR?

AN

(Optra in ljm tts.

FOUNDED UPON HISTORICAL EVENTS IN THE LIFE OF FREDERICK

THE SECOND OF PRUSSIA, RELATED BY MISS EDGEWORTH,