United States. Congress. House. Committee on Inter.

Enabling the people of Hawaii and Alaska each to form a constitution and State Government and to be admitted into the Union on an equal footing with the original States online

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— -A

Copyright, i88^, by Sam' I Donaldson.


TO the honest reader I dedicate this work.
Left alone in youth, with my father and
sisters, to pay for our farm by hard work and
economy, precluded the advantages, even of the
then inefficient, rural educational facilities. Thirst-
ing for information, I improved rough weather and
leisure moments in reading every book procura-
ble, even by borrowing proclivities. I put ten
dollars in a "Webster's Unabridged," the best
investment I ever vested.

I began and persistently kept up for twenty
years, a diary, noting events and changes, atmos-
pheric, agricultural, domestic, political, etc., that
came within my range of information and observa-
tion. This practice improved penmanship and
composition, disciplined thought, strengthened
memory and cultured the mind, so that my daily
evening task became a real pleasure. I opened
years and months with verses descriptive of the
season or subject. When misfortune buried peace

and pleasure beneath a broken heart, and sent me
from a desirable home adrift, alone in a relentless
world, I found Nature truer than nezus, and the
Muse more honorable and mitigating than man.
I studied Nature and character and made the
Muse my monitor.

If on some friendly toes I tramp.

Then I shall feel most glad
If you're not Solomon's foolish scamp.

Whom kind reproof makes mad.

But rather like his good, wise man.
Reproof will make you love me; —

Respect keeps Reason in the van,
As sure as God's above me.

Think! never admitting an error,
Is proof we are growing no wiser.

Buried time and talents bring terror,
As Death will to selfish miser.

Sam'l Donaldson.


For a memorandum this book was intended;
Enjoyment and amusement also were blended.
Sometimes I woo the fair Muse for an ode;
She laughs and lures and leaves me at the node.
Oft when I am winnowing chaff irom. wheat,
She lilts my lyre and makes my brain her seat.
When I find grains of gold in some man's sand;
On fancy, she paints pearls with her fair hand;
Then I must swiftly string them into verses ;
Oft at the risk of reaping some men's curses.
For shams and sycophants I have but scorn,
Would I could confound such with Gabriel's horn.
I've meed for human merit, high or low,
Praise, I sing, for honor in friend or foe.
My fervent zeal's to elevate the Race,
Cause God's image, to glow in each man's face.
This rhythmic book of Samuel, I indite;
All who would con, I cheerfully invite.
Excuse my faults, I'm not an erudite;
Critics may bark, but I don't fear their bite.

Sam'l Donaldson.


Give thanks and glory unto Him,
Who brought us through this world of sin,
In health and strength another year;
Nor gave us cause to drop a tear.

Our barns are full to overflowing.
Our stock, all kinds, are fat and growing,
In peace and plenty we've been dreaming,
O, may our happiness continue gleaming.

Alas! a mighty cloud of trouble

Hangs o'er our land;
I fear its contents, more than double

What we can stand
Will burst upon us in our happy homes so free;
The Goddess of Liberty then destroyed shall be.

Then a by-word and scorn,
We shall be, you shall see.

To all the world, forlorn,



April's warm and genial showers

Which fall so free,
Will germinate the lovely bowers

Which May shall see.

Awake ! O earth, and be revived :
The time for Spring has now arrived,
Put on thy robes of lovely green.
Shine as a maid of sweet sixteen.

DIARY, MAY, 1861.

Ambrosial May!

Thy fragrant day,
Is hailed with great delight;

Thy gentle breeze,

Wafts through the trees,
Thy odor every night.

Thy lucid loveliness at morn,
Ere the king of day doth rise,

Melliferous dew-drops flowers adorn.
Luscious to observing eyes.

JUNE, 1 86 1.

lement, genial
Sunny June, thou art sublime.

In our clement, genial clime


Welcome, welcome, kind July,
You give us wheat, corn, oats and rye,
Although you make us work so hard,
We'll sing with the soul of a bard.

Your glorious Fourth, the sacred day

The Sabbath of the Nation :
We hail with joyful hearts alway,

And with a grand ovation.

AUGUST, 1 86 1.
Along comes August,

Summer's winding sheet;
Weary man may chew his crust.

And rest his hands and feet.

Harvest is over and past.
We'll rest from our labors at last.
We'll refresh and recruit the whole man,
And enjoy life as well as we can.



Pleasant September the portal. of Fall,
Comes laden with fruits for the great and small.
Great blessings of Heav'n that we may remember :
To thank and praise God for pleasant September.

September will make us good ploughmen,
To prepare mother earth for the seed ;

We use the means in our power, and then
Nature's God will supply all our need.


October introduces to us King Frost,
We make the acquaintance and prepare for the cost.
We all know that sometimes he bites pretty keen,
But then it prepares for Winter's cruel spleen.

Behold ! the beautiful and bright orange tinge.
And violet leaves with a light scarlet fringe,
Yes, gaze on the beautiful leaves as they fall,
And remember a like fate awaits us all.


'Tis November's mournful task
To undo all that's been done;

But sometimes she wears a mask
And pretends to act in fun.

She in reality lays bare.
Jack Frost steps out of his lair,
And stalks with mighty mien,
O'er hill and dell and plain.

Sad scenes in nature makes.
All nature's beauty takes

And casts away.
Then smoky summer comes along,
And makes us sing a cheerful song

While it doth stay.


The forests this morning are all draped in white,
Which a few months since were a beautiful green;

I gaze on the landscape with pleasing delight,
Yet, alas! it conjures up many a sad scene.


The cold and ruthless hand of death

Is laid upon

Old sixty-one.
See, how the old year gasps for breath !

Receive thy doom,

The silent tomb.

You'll draw your breath just thirty times.
Ah ! then summed up will be your crimes,
Deep in the past you'll soon be hid;
December will pull down the lid.


The things that I do most despise
Are the insidious, slanderous lies
Of silly persons out of talk.
With their foul tonges at ready-cock.

They tell a lie and smooth it o'er

And say, why? Did you not hear before?

How destable

I can never tell ;
Unless they soon repent,
They should to scorn be sent.



On blessed Christmas, honored day,
The Sovereign Lord of all was born;

He humbly in a manger lay,

Where men did feed their oxen corn.

Hosanna! let the echo ring,

The humble babe is now crowned King:
He reigneth from the Heavens above,

O'er Earth with Majesty and Love.

Precept and practice should be Siamese twins,
Obedience follows, when true Faith begins.


Another year has told its tale

Of sadness and of sorrow,
It will be hid behind the veil ;

Ere we shall see to-morrow.

Time rolls along
In silent song.
By sunlight, moonlight, starlight ;
Ne'er stops to see
What comes of me.
In its onward rapid flight.


"Top o' the mornin" sixty-two,

"Why, bless my picture, how d'ye do?'

Sixty-one's as dead as a louse.

And you must come and take up house.

Ere midtime of your kingly reign.
May we see 'blissful peace attain
The Premier of our Land :
May we through ages all to come.
Enjoy its happy fruits at home;
A brotherly Union band!

Welcome, welcome Sabbath day,
Day of rest to weary mortals ;
Up to Zion, go we may,
And enter its sacred portals :

And treasure up the blessed word
Proclaimed by God's own minister.
Have ye the reverence due the Lord,
Instead of motives sinister?

Stay ! O, weary pilgrim, stay !
I fear your heart is far away


Indulging in some vain delight
While seraphs blush at the sad sight.

Wilt thou not bring thy heart along,
And make it glad with cheerful song,
Ineffable bliss, will be thy lot;
For Jesus Christ thy soul hath bought.
He promises that he will give
Eternal Life, that we may live.


February brings Valentine's day,
When lovers to their sweethearts say, —
" I love you dear, accept this token.
Reciprocate what I have spoken."

The festive nymph receives the prize,
Sweet delight dancing in her eyes;
With trembling hand and throbbing heart,
She reads the lines that love impart.
Anonymous ! ah ! who can tell
Who put on me this charming spell !



BY REV. J. T. B., 1 86 1.

Written while resting on a fence, walking from church.
Revelations, ist. chap.

Ill men combined, on mischief bent,
By plots and machinations vile.
Banished Saint John without consent,
To solitude on Patmos Isle.

Companionless the holy saint
Sat meditating, hungry, faint: —
Full of the Spirit on God's day,
He heard behind a great voice say : —

" I am the first, I am the last.
What I do show thee, write it fast.
Then send it to the churches, seven,
Here on Earth, their head is in Heaven."

I turned me round about to see
The mighty voice that spake to me,
When lo! the Son of Man did stand
Clothed, and with a golden band.

His hair like wool, was white as snow,
Eternity makes hoar you know.


His eyes were like a flame of fire
Which burns, when kindled is His ire.

His feet like brass in furnace burned,
And by a sculptor finely turned.
His mighty voice, like to the sound
Of rushing waters underground.

Around Him seven lamps of gold,
And in His right hand He did hold
Seven stars, that are angels bright,
Of churches to which John did write.

A sharp sword from His mouth did run.

His countenance was like the Sun ;

And when I saw I fell as dead

Down at my Saviour's feet.

He laid his hand on me and said, —

** Fear not, when we do meet,

I am the first, the last and He
That liveth and was dead.
Alive forevermore, to be
The glorious church's Head."



The furious part that March doth play,

In fertilizing Mother Earth
You all must know, and need I say

That March, is baby Spring at birth?

The dry west winds come rustling by,
Absorbing moisture from the ground.

The Sun's bright beams doth raise it high.
And dust in plenty doth abound.

Evaporating wet excess ;

Dry warmth the soil makes friable
For Spring's free showers, we may guess

A year of bounty liable.

A windy, dusty, squalling Spring;

In which the feathered songsters sing :
I'll tell you, if you care to hear.

Is followed by a fruitful year.

Remember the commands of God,
And thus avoid His chastening rod,
And keep the sabbath day;


It will promote our temp'ral good
As well as feed us spiritual food
If we will only pray.

Why not obey this blest command,
If but to rest our weary hand,

We should regard the claim :
Exhausted is the strength of man.
By working out each day his plan

For riches and for fame.

We have a nobler reason, far,
When we before the judgment bar,

On Canaan's happy land,
Are called for reasons why we kept
The sabbath, on which many slept ;

Because God did command.

DIARY, 1862.

At Pleasant Hill Seminary,

Are over one hundred fair girls.

They gave free concerts frequently.
When all admire music and curls.


After fairy-feasting my eyes,
I sat down to soliloquize : —
Some were modest, some were pretty,
Some were foolish, some were witty,
Some, perhaps, would make the wife
Such as man would wish for life.
Some might sit in the parlor rocking,
But could never darn a stocking; —

I would choose one described below,
In linsy, chintz, or furbelow.

The looks will always do you know
When art gives any feature glow; —

Whose hands can knead

And bake good bread,


And Industry

Attired with neatness.

Smiles, dimpling sweetness.

Raise pearly dew-drops on her brow,

Then thump piano, my pretty frow.


April's warbling, feathered choir,
Charms all nature with their lyre,
They sprightly chirp on leafless twig :
Burst tender bud your winter rig.

Ope' your lovely, delicate fold
To music's welcoming theme : —

Nature's splendid ornament mould
Where innocent life may teem.

Chirp and carol the live-long day.
They fill the welkin with their lay.
Sweet songs of praise with them is rife
To Nature's God, who gave them life.


Wake up snakes ! the trumpet's sounding,
Electric bolts are hurled abroad,

Fiery darts through ether bounding;
Torrents fall upon the sod.

Wake, from thy torpid state !
Choose you each one his ma


Another year thou mayest live,
Crawl on thy belly round,
Over moist, mellow ground

Till dreary Autumn cold doth give.

Winter now has passed away,
With all its stern realities,

Yet, there are visible to-day.
Victims of its fatalities.

Hark! the batteries of the skies,
Are belching forth their thunder;

Electric darts through heaven flies,
Man's heart is filled with wonder.

I am in mute admiration lost,

Viewing the elements battle tossed.


Half-a-dozen neighbor rustics

Formed a band, the musical six.

With violins, and sweet guitar,

Charmed closing schools, both near and far;

The maids and manletts ask a dance,
And we, gallant goslings, perchance,


Play half the night to giddy whirls,
For recompense, chums court our girls.

With dawn of day
We must away,
We rigged our team.
And put on steam,
Then through the mud
Which warmed the blood
Of black and bay,
We made our way
From pleasure's dome
To happy home.


Much is said and sung in her praise;

All the good that gild her sweet ways

Reach a responsive chord in man's heart.

Yes, the name embodies the true woman's chart.


Our Saviour, God's anointed;
On the night He was betrayed,


Took bread and solemnly appointed
The sacrament for which He prayed.

He said, "as oft as ye do eat
This bread and drink this cup,"

See how sin pierced His hands and feet,
When ye His blood do sup.

Remember how His blood did flow

Out from His pierced side;
Great drops did down His forehead go;

While fiends did Him deride.
He said " 'tis finished," and so

He bowed His head and died.

Ah ! sin-stained soul, see what you've done.
You've crucified God's own dear Son:
Be troubled, rend your heart and cry,
Lest His Mercy pass you by.

Rejoice and be exceeding glad,
Let not your purchased souls be sad,
For "Christ is risen from the tomb,"
And saves you from eternal doom.

If in Him you will put your trust,
Renouncing every hurtful lust.


Walk humbly and His word obey,
Observing His commands alway.
Do this, in His remembrance still,
And not resist His sovereign will.

Oh ! what a blessed privilege this,
To the child of God on Earth,

Soul's sweet communion, source of bliss.
To those of spiritual birth.

They merely sip the pleasure here,

A foretaste to the soul :
In Heaven with their Saviour dear,

Through sacred sweets they stroll.

Eternity! Forevermore!

Two blessed words to those
Who shout His praise on Canaan's shore,

Because He hath them chose.

DIARY, MAY, 1862.

Melancholy hies away
At thy approach, most charming May:
Light heart is left to greet thee :


Winter storms are o'er and gone :
Gentle dews distilled at dawn,
Make richest sweets to treat me.

Elysian fields of emerald sheen,
Damasked on robes of silken green, .

Now beautify our land.
The budding flowers on every side.
Their graceful heads, they rear in pride

Most nobly, lovely, grand.

Life-giving beams and gentle dews.
Doth in the rose-bud, life infuse;

To ope its silken folds.
With blushes deep their cheeks will glow;
Their breath with balmy odor flow.

Their bosom fragrance holds.

Delectable sweets do fill the air.

The breath of fragrant flowers,
Elysium for me, is where

Are gorgeous rosy bowers.

Oh, come then rich perfume and kiss me!

Ride on the gentle zephyr's wings ;
Come, come salute me, do not miss me,

I love you more than crowns of kings.



He soars aloft on fancy's wings,
Becomes entranced in spiritual things,
He paints in horror's deepest hue.
What misery is in hell for you.

He then to Heaven doth arise.
Far beyond the glittering skies.
And scans the glory, oh how nice !
Reserved for us, in Paradise.


Who cannot admire June's beauty

But the grim, black, deformed old cloutie.

There's loveliness throughout the land.

Brightest beauty from sea to strand :

The forests are muffled in lovely attire, —

Gay halls where the songsters tune their sweet

There's pleasing delight to look o'er the fields.
Waving with bright golden grain,
Joy and delight, in abundance it yields.
By the help of June sunbeams and rain.


Nowgazc on June's thunder-storm, terribly grand;
In beautiful majesty, it sweeps o'er the land,
With arrows of life and of death it is armed,
I am with its terrible loveliness charmed.

DIARY, 1862.

An essay written, by request, for a lady friend
to read at a performance, at Pleasant Hill Semi-

A lilac in full bloom in a heavy thunder-storm.

Can there be anything more pathetic, more
lovely, more endearing and at the same time more
sorrowful and soul-thrilling, to the heart suscep-
tible of tenderness, as to gaze on weeping inno-
cence. Alas! alas! that innocence should weep
and languish, while infamy, detestable infamy,
should proudly rear its grim face in smiling

Alas ! must pretty flowers weep.
Emblem of innocence and love?

Why not your drooping head up keep,
And smile on nature's God above?


The lovely Lilac's purple flower
Might dignify a prince's bower,
To soil thy beauty, who will dare?
Thy fragrant sweets delight the fair.

O, ye storms of wind and rain
Beat gently, when ye come again !
Methinks I see the rain-drops seek,
To kiss the Lilac's purple cheek,
Thoughtless that their rude salute,
Would cause to weep the tender shoot.

Yet thou art lovely in thy sorrow,
As mourning innocence always is;

Wilt thou not smile again to-morrow?
And let us kiss thy charming phiz?


With hot July God grant a blessing,

And may we thank Him for it :
May we enjoy His love's caressing,

And never more abhor it.
We rejoice in that which kind July yields,
With thanks to God for the fruit of our fields.

DIARY, 1862.

The prettiest flowers have sharpest thorns,

Sweetest pleasure hath its pain,
Grace the noble soul adorns

Who bitter with sweet receives not in vain.

DIARY, 1862.

Sabbath of rest,
In which the sweets of Heaven
To righteous men are given;
The de'il's behest
Make some forget God's holy name
And perish in eternal shame.
To keep the sabbath, is delight;
And it is pleasing in God's sight.


Charming music. Heaven's own giving.
Makes glad the heart of all things living;
The heart is first with rapture thrilled.

And then in accents fleet
Bursts from a happy soul, well filled.

In symphonies most sweet.


Look back, my soul ! ah ! never mind —
Eternity, you ne'er can find,
Unfold the one, and you shall see,
The other will unfolded be.

When God did Earth's foundations lay,

In chaos wild and boundless.
He robed the waters round the clay,

When lo ! the Earth was groundless.

At His command, the ground did rise

Above the rolling waters.
From which His bounteous hand supplies

Man's noble sons and daughters.

Yes, when Nature's God was working.
Seraph's tuneful chords were jerking,
'Twas then, the morning stars did sing,
Joyous echoes loud did ring.

Sons of God, with glory beaming.
Through boundless space their brightness

In ecstacy, without alloy.
Did sweetly shout aloud for joy.


Bethlehem's lovely, flowery plain,

Where the "sweet singers'" charming strain

Did fill the balmy air,
The angels of the Lord did bring
Good tidings of the new-born King,

To the poor shepherds there.

Suddenly, in the hush of night,
The heavenly host appeared in sight.
Their radiant forms did shine so bright,
They changed the darkness into light.

Exultingly they did unite,
Symphonious voices with delight;
The universal dome did ring
With shouts of glory to our King.

" Peace on Earth, unto men good-will,"
The Saviour comes. His blood to spill,
That men might from the dust arise,
To glorious mansions in the skies.

To halls of music, where the choir,
Whose hearts burn with celestial fire.
Whose every throb beats thrilling time
To holy music's rapturous chime.


On every breath symphonious strains
Are wafted to the King who reigns ;
In every eye beams sacred songs,
Gazing on Him, to whom it belongs.
Each countenance forever swims
In spiritual songs, psalms and hymns.

Music is their eternal bread,
Enchanting love their lyre.

Hosannas ! to their Sovereign Head,
Bursts from their souls on fire.

Oh ! happy, happy is the soul

That music doth delight,
It soothes, when troubles on us roll.

And makes our sorrows light.

Dull melancholy cannot dwell

With music in the heart ;
Hatred is driven from its cell.

For music doth love impart.

Sweet music, O ! sweet music, sweet,
Unto my soul delicious treat,
Demulcent tones doth waft abroad.
Tender emotions to my God,
Soul-inspiring gift to mortals.
Heritors for Heaven's portals.


DIARY, 1862.

Taylorstown's roisterous, boisterous boys,
Believe me, can make most infernal noise,
Like monkeys chattering with delight;
The swaying mass,
Are full of "sass;" —
When toes are tramped, are **in for fight."

We fingered and bowed for the school,

When order was mocked as a fool.

The hotel we fiddled for supper.

Shank's horse we rode home with a crupper:

Serenading a home, by the way.
Where a bevy of girls were at bay.
With hands full of sweetmeat,

And faces full of fun.
The one for us to eat,
The other to be won.


Farewell farm-life, I've enlisted:
Traitors have our Union twisted.


O, who would not a soldier be,
To fight our Country's battles;

That he might keep the ladies free
From tyrant's slavish shackles?

To home, sweet home's endearing ties.
The soldier looks with anxious eyes.
But this must all forgotten be,
And duty done in verity.

Our Country dear, we must rescue

By the help of God above.
Then we'll return, dear friends to you.

Hence to live in peace and love.

DIARY, 1862.

Wheeling ladies gave us dinner,
Confects, pastry, richest roast.

May this mem'ry prompt each sinner.
To verify my boasting toast.

When out upon the battle-field,
The Keystone boys will never yield ;
But they will still remember you.
Ladies of Wheeling, fair and true.

DIARY, 1864.

O, how lovely is the weather,

For so many days together, ,

Charming scenes and cloudless sky, J

Pleasant breezes 'round me sigh.

Welcome, welcome lovely May,
Exhaling fragrance every day.
Thy beauty swells on every hand.
And makes a garden of the land.

JULY 4TH. DIARY, 1864.

All hail the Fourth, the glorious day.
That made our Country one, and free !

It got up a terrible fray.

But settled it all right, you see.

Alas ! alas ! ! why is it so

The sword is drawn again?
O ! why is brother's blood made flow,

Our lovely land to stain.

The widow's tear, the orphan's cry; —
O! gracious God! hear Thou on high.
O, take from us our burning shame,
Give us again, a hallowed name.



Robert, thou art taken away
From the duties of the day,
Sadness fills the hearts of all,
Caused by thy untimely fall.

Friends will weep o'er thy misfortune,
Yet with hope the God above

Will forever be thy portion,

And fold thee in His arms of love.

DIARY, 1865.

Four long and weary years ago,
The Nation's blood began to flow;
Terrible carnage since did reign,
A haughty foe did us disdain.
A blessed peace has come once more.
Our country, as in days of yore.
Doth yield in plenty golden grain;
May we enjoy, and not complain.

Long to be remembered by American sire and

Events by which our Union most glorious tri-
umph won.


The trinity of heroes : Grant, Sherman, Sheridan,

1 3 4 5 6 7

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