The Fall of Sodom.Thou sin-cursed city of the stricken plain,Whose heinous lust all after time shall shame,'Twas thine to rouse Jehovah's awful ire,And test the strength of Heaven's revengeful fire.Thy senseless lust and crime had spreadTill virtue, hope and shame had fled;Degraded youth and tottering ageCould not appease thy senseless rage;Thy leacherous sons, that roamed at night,Were human only to the sight;Their motto was hell's direst fruit:"Debase theman, exhalt thebrute!"One man alone of all thy teeming millions sate,And pondered on thy sin with deathless hate;His righteous soul was vexed from day to day,And strove in vain to turn you from your way.Hedwelt among you as a child of God,And in the path of honored wedlock trod.You, dead to nature and to nature's voice,Spurned woman and made man your choice!And desecrated, with your impious lust,The masterpiece God had formed from dust!Till woman, shorn of all her natural power,Was cast aside, like some discarded flower,And stormed insulted heaven with hourly cry,Till God beheld you with His searching eye,And sent His angels in avenging hasteYour sin to punish and your land to waste.The son of Horan met these at the gate,And begged them at his frugal board to wait;At first refused, they after turn aside,And 'neath a righteous roof content abide.They share his food and list with eager earAs Lot recounts each nightly scene of fear;When lust runs riot in the open streets,And man with man in strange communion meets.The men of Sodom learn, with kindling eye,The stranger's presence, and in haste draw nigh.Men, young and old, with equal ardor burn,And, with unholy lust, towards these strangers yearn.They call the patriarch with an angry shout,And bid him bring the hallowed strangers out,That they may satisfy their lawless lustAnd trample decency in sinful dust.He, taught from infancy in Mosaic Law,Regarded heaven's High Ruler still with awe;And shuddered with indignant fearAs these vile shouts assailed his ear.He left his house and closed the door behind,And to the rabble thus he eased his mind:"Ye men of Sodom!oncein life do right,Nor do this wickedness in heaven's sight!Two virgin daughters 'neath my roof reside,Till now a father's care and mother's pride;Take them and do whatever you deem right,But lay no impious hand upon my guests tonight.The laws of hospitality, by Moses taught,Harms not a stranger whom our roof has sought.They know the law, who now reside within,And with horror view your awful sin!""Ye men of Sodom! who this stranger gaveThe right to judge us and our will to brave?We kindly took a homeless wanderer in,And dare he brand our greatest pleasure sin?Shall empty words defy our proud behest,Or useless offering prevent our guest?Ten thousand 'No's' will pierce his dastard breast,And treat him tenfold worse than all the rest!"Thus spake their leader, and with angry roarThe o'er wrought friends assail the door;Lot, backward hurled, could hardly stand,Till snatched within by angel hand,The maddened crowd no longer wait,But headlong rush to meet their fate!The ready angels rise, with godlike mind,And strike the guilty wretches blind:In vain they strive to reach and force the door,Their useless orbs are blasted evermore!"Go seek thy children, Lot, in eager haste,And bid them not a precious moment waste.God will destroy this sin-accursed place,And wipe from earth its faintest trace!"Lot, thus commanded, found each one that night,And faithfully portrayed their awful plight;But he, to them, seemed as a man that mocked,And left them sorely grieved and doubly shocked.The morn arose! The angels cautioned LotTo wife and daughters take and tarry not;And as they lingered took them by the handAnd led them from the endangered land."Flee to the mountains and no hind'rance brook,Nor backward turn a long, admiring look.The wretch who dares this mandate to defyShall, 'neath Jehovah's hand, in torture die!"This stern command was heard by trembling LotWith deep repugnance, for it pleased him not."Nay, nay, my lord; but if before thy faceThy trembling servant dares to plead for grace,Command me that I now may turn asideAnd in your little city safe reside.Thus may I keep my soul alive this dayNor after fall to mountain beasts a prey."The heavenly strangers, with an august nod,Agree to lift from Zoar Jehovah's rod.The rescued quartette Zoarward bend,While hope and fear alternate tend.With mien majestic, yes, with hasty tread,Their trembling flight their aged father led.Next came the virgins, able scarce to stand,And followed by their mother, last of all the band.She yet to Sodom and its idols clave,And dared Jehovah's awful wrath to brave;One look she sought, her weary journey to beguile,And in a moment stood transfixed—a Salty Pile!The more obedient trio onward fly,Until the opening gates of Zoar greet the eye.Now, with full hearts, they reach the calm retreat,And cordial welcome from King Bela meet.END OF FIRST CANTO.The Fall of Sodom—Canto Second.From Bera's palace, and from Sodom's shrine,A thousand scintillating rays of beauty shine;The gorgeous parapets of beaten burnished goldEnlightened fancy can with awe behold.Those marble walls of rainbow-tinted hue,Please and instruct and yet astound the view.Each curve of beauty and each line of graceRelates some annal of the ancient place.Upon these sculptured walls each Sodomite may traceThe birthplace and the lineage of his entire race.He here may read, in many a flowing line,The maiden efforts of the Tuneful Nine,Who first appeared and strung the quivering lyre,When new created stars their Maker's praise aspire;Theirs is the music of the quick revolving spheres,And theirs the power to bathe a world in tears.They paint in colors, dipped in liquid truth,The brow of beauty and the lip of youth.Thought, tame in prose in their enchanting line,Is dressed in beauty and is half divine.They wing love's arrows with consumate art,And make the melting music of the heart.Youth they instruct and tottering age sustain,Virtue exalt and hideous voice restrain.Inside this palace life is but a dreamOf beauty, flowing in a constant stream.Here silken curtains hang on wires of gold,And zephyr-satin, whose capacious foldTen thousand giddy turns and windings takeThe secret chambers of the place to make.Each article of comfort man can knowWith priceless gems and flashing colors glow;Each drinking vessel is a solid gem;Each odorous flower grows on a parent stem;Birds of bright plumage raise their tuneful noteAnd scatter scents ambrosial as they float.The crystal fountains generous wine dispense,And food delicious satisfies the sense;The air is balmy as the breath of spring,And every atom is a beauteous thing.One thing alone this mighty place appalls:No woman dwells within these sculptured walls.Here man with man in lustful caprice plays,And Heaven's righteous mandate disobeys;Sinks, through his lust, below the groveling beast,Who to the female makes his amorous suit.Within those walls are stores of untold wealth,Secured by carnage and by midnight stealth;Beneath each divan and each downy couchThe smouldering fires of retribution crouch.Each glittering tankard and each costly plateReflects the fierceness of each pending fate.The quenchless tortures of Jehovah's wrathIs earthward tending in a destined path!The brilliant sun of light, the mighty sire,Seems bathed in blood and heaven's all afire.From pole to pole the livid lightnings flashTill all creation trembles 'neath the crash;And earthward, still, the melting heavens bend,While blinding floods of hissing flames descend,And seas of lava, with three mighty bounds,The now doomed city and the plain surrounds.Now, inward flowing, rolls the mighty tide,On whose dread billows death alone can ride;And upward rising, with tremendous sweep,Its molten billows awful union keepWith floods descending from the flaming sky,And Sodom knows her hour has come to die!Her frightened millions in a circle band,And view approaching death on every hand.Around them rolls a sea of fire;Above them flames the torch of Heaven's ire;While hissing lava, in descending rain,Creates new horror and gives birth to pain.Each gorgeous palace and each mart of tradeIs buried for their wickedness and in ashes laid.In vain they call their idols, name by name.Their garments all are wrapt in living flame,Their quivering bodies tortured to the bone,Their parched lips in vain assay a moan,Their eyes still pleading with each bated breathNotfor forgiveness, but for instant death!The circling oceans, with resounding roar,Meet and commingle—and the scene is o'er!
Thou sin-cursed city of the stricken plain,
Whose heinous lust all after time shall shame,
'Twas thine to rouse Jehovah's awful ire,
And test the strength of Heaven's revengeful fire.
Thy senseless lust and crime had spread
Till virtue, hope and shame had fled;
Degraded youth and tottering age
Could not appease thy senseless rage;
Thy leacherous sons, that roamed at night,
Were human only to the sight;
Their motto was hell's direst fruit:
"Debase theman, exhalt thebrute!"
One man alone of all thy teeming millions sate,
And pondered on thy sin with deathless hate;
His righteous soul was vexed from day to day,
And strove in vain to turn you from your way.
Hedwelt among you as a child of God,
And in the path of honored wedlock trod.
You, dead to nature and to nature's voice,
Spurned woman and made man your choice!
And desecrated, with your impious lust,
The masterpiece God had formed from dust!
Till woman, shorn of all her natural power,
Was cast aside, like some discarded flower,
And stormed insulted heaven with hourly cry,
Till God beheld you with His searching eye,
And sent His angels in avenging haste
Your sin to punish and your land to waste.
The son of Horan met these at the gate,
And begged them at his frugal board to wait;
At first refused, they after turn aside,
And 'neath a righteous roof content abide.
They share his food and list with eager ear
As Lot recounts each nightly scene of fear;
When lust runs riot in the open streets,
And man with man in strange communion meets.
The men of Sodom learn, with kindling eye,
The stranger's presence, and in haste draw nigh.
Men, young and old, with equal ardor burn,
And, with unholy lust, towards these strangers yearn.
They call the patriarch with an angry shout,
And bid him bring the hallowed strangers out,
That they may satisfy their lawless lust
And trample decency in sinful dust.
He, taught from infancy in Mosaic Law,
Regarded heaven's High Ruler still with awe;
And shuddered with indignant fear
As these vile shouts assailed his ear.
He left his house and closed the door behind,
And to the rabble thus he eased his mind:
"Ye men of Sodom!oncein life do right,
Nor do this wickedness in heaven's sight!
Two virgin daughters 'neath my roof reside,
Till now a father's care and mother's pride;
Take them and do whatever you deem right,
But lay no impious hand upon my guests tonight.
The laws of hospitality, by Moses taught,
Harms not a stranger whom our roof has sought.
They know the law, who now reside within,
And with horror view your awful sin!"
"Ye men of Sodom! who this stranger gave
The right to judge us and our will to brave?
We kindly took a homeless wanderer in,
And dare he brand our greatest pleasure sin?
Shall empty words defy our proud behest,
Or useless offering prevent our guest?
Ten thousand 'No's' will pierce his dastard breast,
And treat him tenfold worse than all the rest!"
Thus spake their leader, and with angry roar
The o'er wrought friends assail the door;
Lot, backward hurled, could hardly stand,
Till snatched within by angel hand,
The maddened crowd no longer wait,
But headlong rush to meet their fate!
The ready angels rise, with godlike mind,
And strike the guilty wretches blind:
In vain they strive to reach and force the door,
Their useless orbs are blasted evermore!
"Go seek thy children, Lot, in eager haste,
And bid them not a precious moment waste.
God will destroy this sin-accursed place,
And wipe from earth its faintest trace!"
Lot, thus commanded, found each one that night,
And faithfully portrayed their awful plight;
But he, to them, seemed as a man that mocked,
And left them sorely grieved and doubly shocked.
The morn arose! The angels cautioned Lot
To wife and daughters take and tarry not;
And as they lingered took them by the hand
And led them from the endangered land.
"Flee to the mountains and no hind'rance brook,
Nor backward turn a long, admiring look.
The wretch who dares this mandate to defy
Shall, 'neath Jehovah's hand, in torture die!"
This stern command was heard by trembling Lot
With deep repugnance, for it pleased him not.
"Nay, nay, my lord; but if before thy face
Thy trembling servant dares to plead for grace,
Command me that I now may turn aside
And in your little city safe reside.
Thus may I keep my soul alive this day
Nor after fall to mountain beasts a prey."
The heavenly strangers, with an august nod,
Agree to lift from Zoar Jehovah's rod.
The rescued quartette Zoarward bend,
While hope and fear alternate tend.
With mien majestic, yes, with hasty tread,
Their trembling flight their aged father led.
Next came the virgins, able scarce to stand,
And followed by their mother, last of all the band.
She yet to Sodom and its idols clave,
And dared Jehovah's awful wrath to brave;
One look she sought, her weary journey to beguile,
And in a moment stood transfixed—a Salty Pile!
The more obedient trio onward fly,
Until the opening gates of Zoar greet the eye.
Now, with full hearts, they reach the calm retreat,
And cordial welcome from King Bela meet.
END OF FIRST CANTO.
From Bera's palace, and from Sodom's shrine,
A thousand scintillating rays of beauty shine;
The gorgeous parapets of beaten burnished gold
Enlightened fancy can with awe behold.
Those marble walls of rainbow-tinted hue,
Please and instruct and yet astound the view.
Each curve of beauty and each line of grace
Relates some annal of the ancient place.
Upon these sculptured walls each Sodomite may trace
The birthplace and the lineage of his entire race.
He here may read, in many a flowing line,
The maiden efforts of the Tuneful Nine,
Who first appeared and strung the quivering lyre,
When new created stars their Maker's praise aspire;
Theirs is the music of the quick revolving spheres,
And theirs the power to bathe a world in tears.
They paint in colors, dipped in liquid truth,
The brow of beauty and the lip of youth.
Thought, tame in prose in their enchanting line,
Is dressed in beauty and is half divine.
They wing love's arrows with consumate art,
And make the melting music of the heart.
Youth they instruct and tottering age sustain,
Virtue exalt and hideous voice restrain.
Inside this palace life is but a dream
Of beauty, flowing in a constant stream.
Here silken curtains hang on wires of gold,
And zephyr-satin, whose capacious fold
Ten thousand giddy turns and windings take
The secret chambers of the place to make.
Each article of comfort man can know
With priceless gems and flashing colors glow;
Each drinking vessel is a solid gem;
Each odorous flower grows on a parent stem;
Birds of bright plumage raise their tuneful note
And scatter scents ambrosial as they float.
The crystal fountains generous wine dispense,
And food delicious satisfies the sense;
The air is balmy as the breath of spring,
And every atom is a beauteous thing.
One thing alone this mighty place appalls:
No woman dwells within these sculptured walls.
Here man with man in lustful caprice plays,
And Heaven's righteous mandate disobeys;
Sinks, through his lust, below the groveling beast,
Who to the female makes his amorous suit.
Within those walls are stores of untold wealth,
Secured by carnage and by midnight stealth;
Beneath each divan and each downy couch
The smouldering fires of retribution crouch.
Each glittering tankard and each costly plate
Reflects the fierceness of each pending fate.
The quenchless tortures of Jehovah's wrath
Is earthward tending in a destined path!
The brilliant sun of light, the mighty sire,
Seems bathed in blood and heaven's all afire.
From pole to pole the livid lightnings flash
Till all creation trembles 'neath the crash;
And earthward, still, the melting heavens bend,
While blinding floods of hissing flames descend,
And seas of lava, with three mighty bounds,
The now doomed city and the plain surrounds.
Now, inward flowing, rolls the mighty tide,
On whose dread billows death alone can ride;
And upward rising, with tremendous sweep,
Its molten billows awful union keep
With floods descending from the flaming sky,
And Sodom knows her hour has come to die!
Her frightened millions in a circle band,
And view approaching death on every hand.
Around them rolls a sea of fire;
Above them flames the torch of Heaven's ire;
While hissing lava, in descending rain,
Creates new horror and gives birth to pain.
Each gorgeous palace and each mart of trade
Is buried for their wickedness and in ashes laid.
In vain they call their idols, name by name.
Their garments all are wrapt in living flame,
Their quivering bodies tortured to the bone,
Their parched lips in vain assay a moan,
Their eyes still pleading with each bated breath
Notfor forgiveness, but for instant death!
The circling oceans, with resounding roar,
Meet and commingle—and the scene is o'er!
A TRIBUTE TOTHE WOLFE SISTERS.Music, the sweetest all-inspiring gift of God.Is ever welcome to the prisoner's ear;There's nothing makes me feel half so wellAs music of the heart when sung with cheer.Here in this prison as I sit and poreOver the past and present of my life,My heart sings ever, o'er and o'er,The darkest bitterness of a prisoner's strife.But hark! in yonder chapel shrineI hear sweet music as of yore;I ask, "What music is that sounds so fine?"The answer comes, "The Wolfes are at the door!"I hasten, then, to brush my prison garb,And toilet try to fix as best I can,And then unto the chapel wend my way;When there upon the rostrum standFive of the sweetest singers of our day!There's Amy Wolfe, who changed her name to Brooks;She leads her choir without the aid of books.She sings with voice so sweet and delicateThat to her, First Soprano I dedicate.Next, Minnie S., at the age of twenty-three,Sings like a lark and busy as a bee,Carefully guarding that no mistakes are made,And handles her bewitching voice with harmony well staid.Then sang the sweet Zoraydo F., with baritone most clear,Who, at the age of twenty, delights to bring us cheer.It seems as if her heart and soul were bent on doing right,And when she sang she sang so sweet—Oh! it was out of sight.The next I saw was Lyda M., with scarlet cheeks aglow;She sings with voice most charming, a clear and sweet alto,She's next the younger of them all, because she's just eighteen,She captivates the heart of man—what a fairy little Queen!Then last, not least, the little one, that is, Miss Kittie C.,She just so busy when she sings she's like a honey bee.Her eyes are clear as crystal, her locks are flowing gold,She sings soprano quite as fine as any I have told.I sat down in an empty seat close by the outside door,And listened to such warbling as I never heard before.Their voices drowned all sorrow and gushed forth many a tear,Notfor horror that I felt—it brought me real good cheer.They drove away the pain of woe, that none but prisoners smart;They sang the ever blessed song—true music of the heart.We doff our striped caps to you, O girls of sweetest song,And may we bid you be our friends and return again ere long.Adieu, adieu, our lady friends, do not now say "farewell,"Because we wish you all return with song too sweet to tell.Come back! come back again and sing some lovely Sabbath day,For your presence here to sing good cheer we all will ever pray.And now unto the aged Wolfes please let me say one word:Your home must be a palace filled with sirenic good;Proud may you feel—and justly, too—of these five daughters fair,And great the good they've done for us while in this prison lair.There's but one wish that emanates from a prisoner's wicked heart.That is to say, without delay, "May heaven take their part,And to them bring eternal joy that'll pierce them like a dart!"Each song they sing is welcome here—a masterpiece of art!And now to part we sadly must (while I'm immersed in prison dust).But hoping, too, 'twill not be long ere you return with sweetest song. Adieu! Adieu!
Music, the sweetest all-inspiring gift of God.Is ever welcome to the prisoner's ear;
There's nothing makes me feel half so wellAs music of the heart when sung with cheer.
Here in this prison as I sit and poreOver the past and present of my life,
My heart sings ever, o'er and o'er,The darkest bitterness of a prisoner's strife.
But hark! in yonder chapel shrineI hear sweet music as of yore;
I ask, "What music is that sounds so fine?"The answer comes, "The Wolfes are at the door!"
I hasten, then, to brush my prison garb,And toilet try to fix as best I can,And then unto the chapel wend my way;When there upon the rostrum stand
Five of the sweetest singers of our day!
There's Amy Wolfe, who changed her name to Brooks;
She leads her choir without the aid of books.
She sings with voice so sweet and delicate
That to her, First Soprano I dedicate.
Next, Minnie S., at the age of twenty-three,
Sings like a lark and busy as a bee,
Carefully guarding that no mistakes are made,
And handles her bewitching voice with harmony well staid.
Then sang the sweet Zoraydo F., with baritone most clear,
Who, at the age of twenty, delights to bring us cheer.
It seems as if her heart and soul were bent on doing right,
And when she sang she sang so sweet—Oh! it was out of sight.
The next I saw was Lyda M., with scarlet cheeks aglow;
She sings with voice most charming, a clear and sweet alto,
She's next the younger of them all, because she's just eighteen,
She captivates the heart of man—what a fairy little Queen!
Then last, not least, the little one, that is, Miss Kittie C.,
She just so busy when she sings she's like a honey bee.
Her eyes are clear as crystal, her locks are flowing gold,
She sings soprano quite as fine as any I have told.
I sat down in an empty seat close by the outside door,
And listened to such warbling as I never heard before.
Their voices drowned all sorrow and gushed forth many a tear,
Notfor horror that I felt—it brought me real good cheer.
They drove away the pain of woe, that none but prisoners smart;
They sang the ever blessed song—true music of the heart.
We doff our striped caps to you, O girls of sweetest song,
And may we bid you be our friends and return again ere long.
Adieu, adieu, our lady friends, do not now say "farewell,"
Because we wish you all return with song too sweet to tell.
Come back! come back again and sing some lovely Sabbath day,
For your presence here to sing good cheer we all will ever pray.
And now unto the aged Wolfes please let me say one word:
Your home must be a palace filled with sirenic good;
Proud may you feel—and justly, too—of these five daughters fair,
And great the good they've done for us while in this prison lair.
There's but one wish that emanates from a prisoner's wicked heart.
That is to say, without delay, "May heaven take their part,
And to them bring eternal joy that'll pierce them like a dart!"
Each song they sing is welcome here—a masterpiece of art!
And now to part we sadly must (while I'm immersed in prison dust).
But hoping, too, 'twill not be long ere you return with sweetest song. Adieu! Adieu!
Prisoners.God pity the wretched prisonersIn their lonely cells today;Whatever the sins that tripped them,God pity them still, I say.Only a strip of sunshineCleft by rusty bars:Only a patch of azure,Only a cluster of stars.Once they were little children,And perhaps their wayward feetWere led by a gentle motherToward the golden street.Therefore, if in life's forestThey since have lost their way.Whatever the sins that tripped them,God pity them still, I say.
God pity the wretched prisonersIn their lonely cells today;
Whatever the sins that tripped them,God pity them still, I say.
Only a strip of sunshineCleft by rusty bars:
Only a patch of azure,Only a cluster of stars.
Once they were little children,And perhaps their wayward feet
Were led by a gentle motherToward the golden street.
Therefore, if in life's forestThey since have lost their way.
Whatever the sins that tripped them,God pity them still, I say.
Two Letters.BY GEO. W. H. HARRISON.I wrote a letter while jealous rageIn my bosom reigned supreme;The words were fraught with anger,And a loathsome disesteem.They fell on the pure white paperAnd marred its stainless page,Yet eased my maddened spirit,And appeased my senseless rage.I gloatingly tho't of the dumb despairThat letter would surely give,To one who had broken her faithful vowsIn a way I could never forgive.I doubted not the perfect truthOf all I heard them say;She, like other girls, was falseWhile her lover was away.I knew she vowed she would be trueWhile life itself would last,Yet thought that she, like others,Too soon forgot the past.I hastily sealed the cruel note,And placed it next my heart,Determined upon the morrowTo give it an early start.I threw myself upon the couchAnd sought for sweet repose,And in my restless slumbersA vision then arose:I saw in that terrible visionA woman whose eager faceBeamed with yearning, restless loveAs her trembling fingers tracedA message of love and tendernessTo her loved one far away.As her pure lips quietly murmured,"God grant we must some day!"She sealed her letter with dainty hands,And laid it by with tender care:Then humbly kneeled beside her bed,And poured her soul in prayer.She prayed for her impassioned loverIn a warm, impassioned strain,That proved her heart both warm and trueAnd free from guilt or stain.She arose from her kneeling postureTo answer a call at her door:She smiled as she saw the letterThe hand of the servant bore.One glance she gave—then burst the sealWith trembling, eager haste,And rapidly heard the cruel wordsMy reckless hand had traced.Her lovely face turned deathly paleAs she wildly clutched the air.She tottered and fell—a senseless heap—A prey to dumb despair.So still she lay I deemed her dead,And sprang to raise her in my arms.I loved her with the old, wild love,And bowed to her peerless charms."Speak! darling, speak!" I wildly cried."Pray, come back from the voiceless shore.I cannot, dare not live an hour,Unless I hear your voice once more!"She opened wide her lovely eyes,And cast on me one lingering glanceSo full of injured innocenceIt smote me like a lance.I seized the heartless letter,Curst cause of all my shame,And, with one imprecation,Consigned it to the flame.She watched me with a languid smile,And pointed to her heart:"You have destroyed the proof," she said,"But can you ease the smart?""I have been true to all my vows,Heaven judge me if I lie!But since you deem me to be false,Go—leave me here—to die!"At last I woke and quickly drewThe accursed sheet from my breast—Burning it with a ready hand—And gently sank to rest.I wrote another, whose tender wordsWere soft as the ripple of a stream;And thought what a contrast it would beTo the letter she read in my dream!And my darling greatly wondersWhy my letters with tenderness teem,Since I have never told herOf the letter she read in my dream.
BY GEO. W. H. HARRISON.
I wrote a letter while jealous rageIn my bosom reigned supreme;
The words were fraught with anger,And a loathsome disesteem.
They fell on the pure white paperAnd marred its stainless page,
Yet eased my maddened spirit,And appeased my senseless rage.
I gloatingly tho't of the dumb despairThat letter would surely give,
To one who had broken her faithful vowsIn a way I could never forgive.
I doubted not the perfect truthOf all I heard them say;
She, like other girls, was falseWhile her lover was away.
I knew she vowed she would be trueWhile life itself would last,
Yet thought that she, like others,Too soon forgot the past.
I hastily sealed the cruel note,And placed it next my heart,
Determined upon the morrowTo give it an early start.
I threw myself upon the couchAnd sought for sweet repose,
And in my restless slumbersA vision then arose:
I saw in that terrible visionA woman whose eager face
Beamed with yearning, restless loveAs her trembling fingers traced
A message of love and tendernessTo her loved one far away.
As her pure lips quietly murmured,"God grant we must some day!"
She sealed her letter with dainty hands,And laid it by with tender care:
Then humbly kneeled beside her bed,And poured her soul in prayer.
She prayed for her impassioned loverIn a warm, impassioned strain,
That proved her heart both warm and trueAnd free from guilt or stain.
She arose from her kneeling postureTo answer a call at her door:
She smiled as she saw the letterThe hand of the servant bore.
One glance she gave—then burst the sealWith trembling, eager haste,
And rapidly heard the cruel wordsMy reckless hand had traced.
Her lovely face turned deathly paleAs she wildly clutched the air.
She tottered and fell—a senseless heap—A prey to dumb despair.
So still she lay I deemed her dead,And sprang to raise her in my arms.
I loved her with the old, wild love,And bowed to her peerless charms.
"Speak! darling, speak!" I wildly cried."Pray, come back from the voiceless shore.
I cannot, dare not live an hour,Unless I hear your voice once more!"
She opened wide her lovely eyes,And cast on me one lingering glance
So full of injured innocenceIt smote me like a lance.
I seized the heartless letter,Curst cause of all my shame,
And, with one imprecation,Consigned it to the flame.
She watched me with a languid smile,And pointed to her heart:
"You have destroyed the proof," she said,"But can you ease the smart?"
"I have been true to all my vows,Heaven judge me if I lie!
But since you deem me to be false,Go—leave me here—to die!"
At last I woke and quickly drewThe accursed sheet from my breast—
Burning it with a ready hand—And gently sank to rest.
I wrote another, whose tender wordsWere soft as the ripple of a stream;
And thought what a contrast it would beTo the letter she read in my dream!
And my darling greatly wondersWhy my letters with tenderness teem,
Since I have never told herOf the letter she read in my dream.
A Prayer For Justice.Oh, God in heaven up on high,How long this cruel strife?Most I but perish in this denTo end this wretched life?Is there no justice here on earth?Must truth remain crushed downAnd vile and wicked, cruel manForever look and frown?Is there no power to bring to lightThetruthof my offense?Must perjury and briberyPrevail forever hence?Can enemies, vile, cruel things,Twist truth all out of shape,And cause one who's not guiltyTo morally wear death's crepe?Oh, God! is there no remedyFor earthly subjects thusTo be relieved from wretched painWithout this earthly fuss?Oh, God! to Thee we call for help.Wil't thou but listen—hear?Look down upon me as I be,My innocence thou'lt surely see,These shackles, bolts, and prison bars,The heavy locks and massive key—Hear, Oh, God! Oh, hear my prayerAnd set this captive free.
Oh, God in heaven up on high,How long this cruel strife?Most I but perish in this denTo end this wretched life?Is there no justice here on earth?Must truth remain crushed downAnd vile and wicked, cruel manForever look and frown?Is there no power to bring to lightThetruthof my offense?Must perjury and briberyPrevail forever hence?Can enemies, vile, cruel things,Twist truth all out of shape,And cause one who's not guiltyTo morally wear death's crepe?Oh, God! is there no remedyFor earthly subjects thusTo be relieved from wretched painWithout this earthly fuss?Oh, God! to Thee we call for help.Wil't thou but listen—hear?Look down upon me as I be,My innocence thou'lt surely see,These shackles, bolts, and prison bars,The heavy locks and massive key—Hear, Oh, God! Oh, hear my prayerAnd set this captive free.
Birthday Musings.BY G. W. VAN WEIGHS.Just sixty years ago todayMine eyes first saw the light;Now age, with ever onward tread,Presages coming night.Ah! is it night? Or shall it beThat morning's light shall break,And from my soul such music bringAs earth could never wake?Where are the friends of earlier years—Sleep they to wake no more?Or do they walk with joyful treadHeaven's ever radiant shore?If death is but oblivion's gate,Why younger grows the soul with years?Whose are the faces that we seeWhen melts the hearts in tears?Oh, whence the strains the soul can hearWhen all is hushed in sleep,And none, save God and angels, nearWhen souls their vigils keep?Is all religion but a myth?Are all our hopes in vain?Is heaven affectation's child,Born of disordered brain?Tell me not such bolts and barsCan keep me from the skies;I'd sooner deem yon blushing roseA satyr in disguise.
BY G. W. VAN WEIGHS.
Just sixty years ago todayMine eyes first saw the light;
Now age, with ever onward tread,Presages coming night.
Ah! is it night? Or shall it beThat morning's light shall break,
And from my soul such music bringAs earth could never wake?
Where are the friends of earlier years—Sleep they to wake no more?
Or do they walk with joyful treadHeaven's ever radiant shore?
If death is but oblivion's gate,Why younger grows the soul with years?
Whose are the faces that we seeWhen melts the hearts in tears?
Oh, whence the strains the soul can hearWhen all is hushed in sleep,
And none, save God and angels, nearWhen souls their vigils keep?
Is all religion but a myth?Are all our hopes in vain?
Is heaven affectation's child,Born of disordered brain?
Tell me not such bolts and barsCan keep me from the skies;
I'd sooner deem yon blushing roseA satyr in disguise.
A TRIBUTE TOTHE WOLFE SISTERS.BY GEO W. H. HARRISON.Come. O come, ye radiant sisters, heaven honored "Tuneful Nine."Smooth my ever rugged numbers and inspire my drooping line.Aid my muse to tell the story never breathed to mortal ear.How this sweet angelic chorus happens to be lingering near.In yon fair and blissful aiden, far beyond the faintest star.Once the guardian angels slumbered, leaving heaven's gates ajar!And five wandering seraphs wandered, in their rapid, noiseless flight,Thro' the gates, whose vaulted arches echoed pæans of delight!Quick as thought their tireless pinions clave the unresisting air.Till they reached thefive Wolfe sisters, maids of form and features fair,And within these hearts they lingered, tuning every chord to song.Till the pathos of their music stilled the ever restless throng!Earth and heaven stood astonished and Jehovah's love decreed:"Let them stay! such strains seraphic mortal beings can but heed!"Have you heard their wondrous music? Have you felt their sweet control?If not, friend, you've scarcely sounded half the mysteries of your soul!Amy, soul-enrapturing artist, sweetly sounds the soft prelude.And beneath her skilfull fingers every note, with life imbued.Stills the throng, whose very silence is an encore loud and deep.And each thought, save that of music, is forgotten or asleep.Katherine's rich and full suprano, like the Autumn's mellow morn.Wakes the slumbering soul to action like the practiced huntsman's horn!Mamie's soft, melodious voice nobly takes the second part.And the pathos of her music captivates the raptured heart!Lida's faultless second alto deepens all the noble strainTill the mind forgets its madness and the heart rejects in pain.Then Zoraydo's matchless voice sweeps the soul alongTill we know thatperfect music can be breathed in earthly song!Hear, O hear the melting music pouring from each heaving breast;How it wakes the heart to rapture! How it soothes the soul to rest!When they sing, such lovely visions seem to rise and grandly floatLike the poet's airy mansions, on the wave of each full note!Silvery daybreaks brighten slow; sunsets blush on mountain snow!Moonlight shivers on the open sea; Autumn burns in bush and tree;Blowing willows bend and sigh; whispering rivers wander by;Thro' the pines sweep sea-tones soft; sailing birds shout loud aloft;Strange notes beat the lambent air; visions float divinely fair;Vanished faces come and go; silenced voices murmur low;Gentlest memories come and cling,as we listen and they sing.Oh, repeat the music's tale, "Love shall perish not nor fail!"We forget the fear of death—breathe, in tho't, immortal breath!We believe in broadening truth; trust the generous creeds of youth;Feel consoling hopes that climb up to some triumphant clime,And sweet dreams of splendor bringas we listen and they sing!Walls of rock and bars of steel we can neither see nor feel;We forget our dire disgrace; disregard both time and place;Bid all angry passion sleep and profoundest silence keep!Hoard the trembling notes that fall like an angel mother's call;Rise above our low estate and forget the wrongs of fate!We forgive our mortal foes, source of all our many woes,And penance itself loses half its sting,as we listen and they sing!May the God of love and truth give them all the joys of youth;May the raptures they impart ever thrill each noble heart;May their ministry of love lead all erring ones above;May wealth, happiness and joy all their waiting hours employ;Be their cares both light and few and their pleasures ever new;And their lives one dream of ease till their "ship comes o'er the seas!"Let fate oft their presence bring,and we'll listen while they singGentle sisters, take this tribute poured from imprisoned hearts;You have eased their maddening torture, you have stayed the cruel dartsThat remorse and shame have driven deep within each captive soul.Suffer them your names to graven on fond memory's deathless scroll:Be assured your seeds of kindness shall not fall on stony ground,Many of your willing converts have both peace and pardon found!And, when all your work is ended, you in heaven shall fondly greetSome whose hearts were first enlightened by your anthems clear and sweet.
BY GEO W. H. HARRISON.
Come. O come, ye radiant sisters, heaven honored "Tuneful Nine."
Smooth my ever rugged numbers and inspire my drooping line.
Aid my muse to tell the story never breathed to mortal ear.
How this sweet angelic chorus happens to be lingering near.
In yon fair and blissful aiden, far beyond the faintest star.
Once the guardian angels slumbered, leaving heaven's gates ajar!
And five wandering seraphs wandered, in their rapid, noiseless flight,
Thro' the gates, whose vaulted arches echoed pæans of delight!
Quick as thought their tireless pinions clave the unresisting air.
Till they reached thefive Wolfe sisters, maids of form and features fair,
And within these hearts they lingered, tuning every chord to song.
Till the pathos of their music stilled the ever restless throng!
Earth and heaven stood astonished and Jehovah's love decreed:
"Let them stay! such strains seraphic mortal beings can but heed!"
Have you heard their wondrous music? Have you felt their sweet control?
If not, friend, you've scarcely sounded half the mysteries of your soul!
Amy, soul-enrapturing artist, sweetly sounds the soft prelude.
And beneath her skilfull fingers every note, with life imbued.
Stills the throng, whose very silence is an encore loud and deep.
And each thought, save that of music, is forgotten or asleep.
Katherine's rich and full suprano, like the Autumn's mellow morn.
Wakes the slumbering soul to action like the practiced huntsman's horn!
Mamie's soft, melodious voice nobly takes the second part.
And the pathos of her music captivates the raptured heart!
Lida's faultless second alto deepens all the noble strain
Till the mind forgets its madness and the heart rejects in pain.
Then Zoraydo's matchless voice sweeps the soul along
Till we know thatperfect music can be breathed in earthly song!
Hear, O hear the melting music pouring from each heaving breast;
How it wakes the heart to rapture! How it soothes the soul to rest!
When they sing, such lovely visions seem to rise and grandly float
Like the poet's airy mansions, on the wave of each full note!
Silvery daybreaks brighten slow; sunsets blush on mountain snow!
Moonlight shivers on the open sea; Autumn burns in bush and tree;
Blowing willows bend and sigh; whispering rivers wander by;
Thro' the pines sweep sea-tones soft; sailing birds shout loud aloft;
Strange notes beat the lambent air; visions float divinely fair;
Vanished faces come and go; silenced voices murmur low;
Gentlest memories come and cling,as we listen and they sing.
Oh, repeat the music's tale, "Love shall perish not nor fail!"
We forget the fear of death—breathe, in tho't, immortal breath!
We believe in broadening truth; trust the generous creeds of youth;
Feel consoling hopes that climb up to some triumphant clime,
And sweet dreams of splendor bringas we listen and they sing!
Walls of rock and bars of steel we can neither see nor feel;
We forget our dire disgrace; disregard both time and place;
Bid all angry passion sleep and profoundest silence keep!
Hoard the trembling notes that fall like an angel mother's call;
Rise above our low estate and forget the wrongs of fate!
We forgive our mortal foes, source of all our many woes,
And penance itself loses half its sting,as we listen and they sing!
May the God of love and truth give them all the joys of youth;
May the raptures they impart ever thrill each noble heart;
May their ministry of love lead all erring ones above;
May wealth, happiness and joy all their waiting hours employ;
Be their cares both light and few and their pleasures ever new;
And their lives one dream of ease till their "ship comes o'er the seas!"
Let fate oft their presence bring,and we'll listen while they sing
Gentle sisters, take this tribute poured from imprisoned hearts;
You have eased their maddening torture, you have stayed the cruel darts
That remorse and shame have driven deep within each captive soul.
Suffer them your names to graven on fond memory's deathless scroll:
Be assured your seeds of kindness shall not fall on stony ground,
Many of your willing converts have both peace and pardon found!
And, when all your work is ended, you in heaven shall fondly greet
Some whose hearts were first enlightened by your anthems clear and sweet.
To A Departed Idol.BY G. W. VAX WEIGHS.Thou art not dead, thou art not gone to dust,No line of all thy loveliness shall fallTo formless ruin, smote by time and thrustInto the solemn gulf that covers all.Thou canst not perish. Tho' the sodSink with its violets closer to thy breast,Tho' by the feet of generations trodThe loadstone crumbles from thy place of rest.The marvel of thy beauty cannot die;The sweetness of thy presence shall not fade;Earth gave not all the glory of thine eye;Death cannot smite what earth ne'er made.It was notthine, that marble forehead pale and cold.Nor those dumb lips they laid beneath the snow;Thy heart would throb beneath that passive fold;Thyhands, for me, that stony clasp forego.Butthouhast gone. Gone from this dreary land;Gone from the storms let loose on every hill;Lured by the sweet persuasion of a bandThat leads thee, somewhere, in the distance still.Where e'er thou art, I know thou wearest yetThe same bewitching beauty, sanctifiedBy calmer joy, and touched with soft regretFor him who seeks but cannot reach thy side.I keep for thee the living love of old,And seek thy place in nature, as a childWhose hand is parted from its playmate's holdWanders and cries along a lonesome wild.When, in the watches of my heart, I hearThe messages of purer life and knowThe footsteps of thy spirit lingering near,Life's darkness hides the way I fain would go.Canst thou not bid the empty realms restoreThat form, the symbol of thy heavenly part?Or in the barren fields of silence pourThat voice, the perfect music of thy heart?Oh, once—once bending to my warm and eager lips,Take back the tender warmth of life from me,Or let thy kisses cloud with swift eclipseThe light of mine, and give me death with thee.
BY G. W. VAX WEIGHS.
Thou art not dead, thou art not gone to dust,No line of all thy loveliness shall fall
To formless ruin, smote by time and thrustInto the solemn gulf that covers all.
Thou canst not perish. Tho' the sodSink with its violets closer to thy breast,
Tho' by the feet of generations trodThe loadstone crumbles from thy place of rest.
The marvel of thy beauty cannot die;The sweetness of thy presence shall not fade;
Earth gave not all the glory of thine eye;Death cannot smite what earth ne'er made.
It was notthine, that marble forehead pale and cold.Nor those dumb lips they laid beneath the snow;
Thy heart would throb beneath that passive fold;Thyhands, for me, that stony clasp forego.
Butthouhast gone. Gone from this dreary land;Gone from the storms let loose on every hill;
Lured by the sweet persuasion of a bandThat leads thee, somewhere, in the distance still.
Where e'er thou art, I know thou wearest yetThe same bewitching beauty, sanctified
By calmer joy, and touched with soft regretFor him who seeks but cannot reach thy side.
I keep for thee the living love of old,And seek thy place in nature, as a child
Whose hand is parted from its playmate's holdWanders and cries along a lonesome wild.
When, in the watches of my heart, I hearThe messages of purer life and know
The footsteps of thy spirit lingering near,Life's darkness hides the way I fain would go.
Canst thou not bid the empty realms restoreThat form, the symbol of thy heavenly part?
Or in the barren fields of silence pourThat voice, the perfect music of thy heart?
Oh, once—once bending to my warm and eager lips,Take back the tender warmth of life from me,
Or let thy kisses cloud with swift eclipseThe light of mine, and give me death with thee.
Acrostic To Warden and Mrs. E. G. Coffin.Elijah of old ancient times was a man of many, many minds!Long did he live in noble deeds, in dealing comfort to men's needs,In these, our modern, modest days, all men have greatly changed their ways—Jehovah's laws do not control the wickedness of every soul.All those who know as well as I while on this earth will not decryHe who will bad men reform—Hail, Coffin! who for us was born!Godfrey is his second name, and now he reaps most enviable fame:Our watchword is both day and nights—while o'er him floats the Stars and Stripes—"Do unto us as you would choose, that others do to you and yours!"Faithful to her life-long trust, a wife, a mother, true and just,Resolves to help both maid and man and lend an ever helping hand—Each day and night they toil and pray for boys and girls to mend their way,Yet they do not toil all in vain for the great good done the human train."Coffin" is a word some shun, for it takes man when on earth he's doneOut to the churchyard laid in clay, for ages sanctioned such a way.For us poor sinners here in "hell" a Coffin sent makes us feel well,For often he does ease the pains we feel in both our hearts and brains.In endless joy may they have peace for kindness they have done to us—Not one of us, though cursed with sin, will e'er forget our friends Coffin.CANTO SECOND—LAST, BUT NOT LEAST!Mistress she is of the Coffin shrine, and so it's been for years of time!In holy wedlock girls and boys have been the idols of their joys!She bids her Lord Elijah bide a faithful servant by her side,To aid her with a helping hand to raise poor, wretched, fallen man.Real sympathy for the prisoner's woe, she seeds of comfort tries to sowEre long before it is too late to save poor sinner from his fate;She "cookies" make, with pearls all set, and puts them in Elijah's hat,She then does send him on his way, while for the prisoner she does pray.Mary silently did keep the watch o'er Christ while he did sleep;All herprotegeshe will save if her Lord will help her braveRoaring storms of vice and ire, kindled by a vengeful fire!You may guess for all the rest, let me sayshe'll do her best!Coffins, to you let us turn! and all crime forever spurn!Only aid us in this strife to fight manfully for life.Father Elijah! Mother Mary! for our welfare do not tarry!Fear you not! for the good you've done has saved many a fallen one!In our hearts we oft despair as we linger in this lair—Not for long tho' when we've seen—Father Elijah and Mary, hisQueen!
Elijah of old ancient times was a man of many, many minds!
Long did he live in noble deeds, in dealing comfort to men's needs,
In these, our modern, modest days, all men have greatly changed their ways—
Jehovah's laws do not control the wickedness of every soul.
All those who know as well as I while on this earth will not decry
He who will bad men reform—Hail, Coffin! who for us was born!
Godfrey is his second name, and now he reaps most enviable fame:
Our watchword is both day and nights—while o'er him floats the Stars and Stripes—
"Do unto us as you would choose, that others do to you and yours!"
Faithful to her life-long trust, a wife, a mother, true and just,
Resolves to help both maid and man and lend an ever helping hand—
Each day and night they toil and pray for boys and girls to mend their way,
Yet they do not toil all in vain for the great good done the human train.
"Coffin" is a word some shun, for it takes man when on earth he's done
Out to the churchyard laid in clay, for ages sanctioned such a way.
For us poor sinners here in "hell" a Coffin sent makes us feel well,
For often he does ease the pains we feel in both our hearts and brains.
In endless joy may they have peace for kindness they have done to us—
Not one of us, though cursed with sin, will e'er forget our friends Coffin.
CANTO SECOND—LAST, BUT NOT LEAST!
Mistress she is of the Coffin shrine, and so it's been for years of time!
In holy wedlock girls and boys have been the idols of their joys!
She bids her Lord Elijah bide a faithful servant by her side,
To aid her with a helping hand to raise poor, wretched, fallen man.
Real sympathy for the prisoner's woe, she seeds of comfort tries to sow
Ere long before it is too late to save poor sinner from his fate;
She "cookies" make, with pearls all set, and puts them in Elijah's hat,
She then does send him on his way, while for the prisoner she does pray.
Mary silently did keep the watch o'er Christ while he did sleep;
All herprotegeshe will save if her Lord will help her brave
Roaring storms of vice and ire, kindled by a vengeful fire!
You may guess for all the rest, let me sayshe'll do her best!
Coffins, to you let us turn! and all crime forever spurn!
Only aid us in this strife to fight manfully for life.
Father Elijah! Mother Mary! for our welfare do not tarry!
Fear you not! for the good you've done has saved many a fallen one!
In our hearts we oft despair as we linger in this lair—
Not for long tho' when we've seen—Father Elijah and Mary, hisQueen!
A Prison Vision.BY GEO. W. H. HARRISON.'Tis midnight in these prison walls,And even the sentry's muffled treadSepulchral sounds, as if he trodThe silent confines of the dead.In vain I close my weary eyes,I cannot sleep tonight;I hear an angel's rustling wingsFresh from the realms of light.A sacred presence haunts the air,A messenger from Heaven's own land;And memory awakes again,Touched by an angel's wand.I seem to hear, deep in my soul,The music of a heavenly choir,While each pulsation of my heartAwakes in me the old desireTo see once more that lovely formDeath vanished in my arms;To hear again her melting voiceAnd revel in her charms.To feel the tender, soft caressOf a loved tho' vanished hand,And hear from her departed lipsThe mysteries of that landThat lies beyond Time's rugged shore,To all unknown, save thoseWhom angels capture for the skiesAt life's uncertain close.I muse again, with loving thought,Of a sinless wife long dead,And live again our buried past,By an angel presence led.I view again the pleasing sceneOf a school house on the hill,Where happy scholars daily met,Whose law was the teacher's will.I see again the old armchairWhere the Master daily satWith watchful eye and helpful hand,Yet sleepless as a cat.I hear again the sleepless humOf voices low and sweet,Of students pouring o'er the booksWith wisdom's germs replete.Amid that happy, guileless throng,There was one peerless faceThat held in the Master's tender heartAn undisputed place.It was a face, O God! how fair!No words can ever paint;More fit for heaven than for earth.It bore the contour of a saint.The brow was high and broad and white,With a radiance all its own;The cheeks, like lilies dipped in blood,Were oft as a rose full blown.Eyebrows dark and delicately arched,Were penciled in Nature's play;The ruby ripeness of her lipsSeemed never to melt away.Her lustrous eyes, whose depths were brown,Yet seemed a darker hue,Were windows of a spotless soulThat scorned to be untrue.Abundant tresses of dark brown hairThat almost swept the ground,Enveloped as chaste and lovely formAs e'er on earth was found.A voice so soft, so sweet, so lowThat every accent wokeSweet notes of blissful melody,As if an angel spoke.None could look upon that faceAnd deem that aught of earthCould chill the rapture of a soulWhere sin could know no birth.Her mind had wondrous power and scope;It grasped the sea, the earth, the sky,And rightly understood and lovedThe God who ruled on high.Contentment, truth and virtueWas part of Nature's dower;Self-sacrifice to her was joy,And prayer was conscious power.While yet a child her spirit soaredAbove the things of earth,And mused with soulful tendernessOn the heaven that gave it birth.The teacher's stern, imperious heartYearningly worshipped this child,And 'neath her hallowed influenceGrew tender, warm and mild.The haughty heart, that never soughtThe plaudits of the world,Poured its richest tributeAt the feet of this faultless girl.The face, that never even blanched'mid war's terrific strife,Grew pale as death the hour he askedThis child to be his wife.No word she spake, but simply laidHer head upon his breast.He folded her in warm embraceAnd knew that he was blest.Each lived a life of conscious joy;Earth seemed a garden fair;The lover sought earth's fairest flowersTo braid in her shining hair.Deeply they drank at the font of love;Draughts few natures can hold;The hours were seasons of perfect bliss;Each moment more precious than gold.Days and months flew swiftly byOn the wings of happiness sped,And two sweet babes were garneredAs the fruit of their marriage bed!They neither thought nor dreamed of aughtSave their babes and coming bliss;They greeted the morn with soft caressAnd welcomed night with a kiss.Till, thundering on the wings of Time,Fate dealt the cruel blowThat dashed a home in piecesAnd laid a child-wife low.The husband pressed her to his breastAnd fondly kissed his bride;But with the parting of that kissThe sinless child-wife died.The kindred angels joyful flewFrom the realms of endless day,And gently wafted her soul above,But left to us her clay."She is dead! Kiss her and come away.Your cries and prayers are all in vain,Your May-Bell is cold, senseless clay;In heaven above you'll meet again."They smoothed her tresses of dark brown hairBack from her marble forehead fair;Over her eyes, that oped too much,They closed the lids with a tender touch.They closed with tender touch, that day,The thin, pale lips where beauty lay;About her brow and her sweet pale faceThey tied her veil and bridal lace;Placed on her feet the white silk shoesThat May-Bell for her marriage chose;Over her bosom crossed her hands;"Come away," they said, "God understands."With bowed heads they left the room,Still shuddering at its silent gloom;And naught, save silence, lingered thereAround the corpse of May-Bell Clare.But I loved her far too well to dreadThe silent, stately, beautiful dead.I cautiously opened the chamber doorAnd was alone with my dead once more.I kissed her lips, I kissed her cheek,But 'twas in vain, she could not speak.I called her names, she loved, awhile,But she was dead and could not smile.And not one passionate whisper of loveCould call her back from her home above."Cold lips," I murmured, "breast without breath,Is there no voice, no language in death?"Dull to ear and still to the sense,Yet to the soul of love intense!See, I listen with soul, not ear;What is the secret of dying, my dear?Was it the infinite wonder of allThat you could let life's flower fall?Or was it a greater marvel to feelThe perfect calm o'er agony steal?Was the miracle greatest to find how deepBeyond all dreams sank down that sleep?Did life roll back its record, my dear,Showing all past deeds dark and clear?Oh, did love, sweet mistress of bliss,Affrighted, vanish to shun death's kiss?For radiant ones in the world aboveForget those whom on earth they love?Oh, perfect death! Oh, dead most dear,I hold the breath of my soul to hear!I listen as deep as fathomless hell,As high as heaven, nor will you tell!There must be pleasure in dying, my sweet,To make you so placid from head to feet!I'd tell you, darling, if I were deadAndyourhot tears onmycheeks shed,I'd speak, though the angel of death had laidHis sword on my lips, their accents to shade.Not in vain should you, with streaming eyes,Beg to know Death's chief surprise.Oh, foolish world! Oh, precious dead!Tho' you tell me, who will believe 'twas said?Who will believe I heard you sayIn your own dear, kind familiar way:"I can speak now—you listen with soul alone:To the eyes of your soulallshall be shown.In this land of infinite blissThe utmost wonder, dear one, is this:"I see and love and kiss you again;I smile at your triumph over pain;I know your heart is honest and true;I'm a guardian angel to you!"What a strange, delicious amusement is death!To live without being, to breathe without breath!I should laugh did you not cry;Listen, dear one, love never can die!"I am now your heaven-decked bride;My body and not my love has died!Dear one,itlies there, I know,Pale and silent, cold as snow."And you say, 'May-Bell is dead.'Weeping o'er my silent head!Ican see your falling tears,Hear your sighs and know your fears!"Yet I smile and whisper this:I am not the clay you kiss;Cease your tears and letitlie,It was mine, but 'tis notI!"Dear one, what the women loveFor its silent home, the grave,Is a garment I have quit,As a tent no longer fit."'Tis a cage from which, at last,My enraptured soul has passed.Love theinmate, not theroom,Love thewearer, not theplume!"Lovemyspirit, not thebars,That kept your May-Bell from the stars;Be wise, dear one, and quickly dryFrom every tear your laden eye."What you place upon the bierIs not worth a lover's tear;'Tis an empty shell at last,Out of which the soul has passed."The shell is broken,itliesthere,But thepearl, thesoul, ishere!'Tis an earthen jar, whose lidGod sealed when it faintly hid"The soul He made to live on high;The mind that did not, cannot die.Let the dross be earth's once more,Since the gold is in His store."God is glorious! God is good!Now His word is understood!Life's ceaseless wonder is at an end,Yet you weep, my erring friend!"See, the loveryoucall deadTo immortal bliss is wed!Loves and homes you lost, 'tis true,To such light as shines for you."Yet deep in your inmost soulYou shall feel my sweet control.I'll be with you every hour,Commissioned by Almighty Power,"To guard each moment of your lifeAs best befits your angel wife!At night I'll linger 'round your bed,With an angel's noiseless tread;"And while you, slumbering, dream of me,I'll be present, love, with thee.Where e'er you go, where e'er you stray,I'll be near thee night and day,"Guarding you with zealous care,Pointing out life's every snare,Chasing every tear away,Aiding every joy to stay."Chide you when you go astray;Bless you when you kneel to pray;Lead you, with an unseen hand,To view the wonders of a land"Where Peace and Love and Perfect JoyTongue cannot name, nor peace destroy!Shall ever bless the happy band,As radiant 'round the throne they stand!"Once there, we'll never part again,Buttime, andlovewhile God shall reign.I cannot,dare not, say farewell;Where I amnowyou, too, shall dwell."I am gone before your face,A moment's time, a little space.When you come where I have steppedYou'll greatly wonder why you wept!"You'll know by Love Eternal taughtThat Heaven isall, that earth is naught.I beg you not to dread sweet death;'Tis but the first and faintest breath"Of the life that God hath givenTo fit immortal souls for heaven!Becertain, darling,allseems love,Viewed from the higher courts above!"The cares and troubles that ariseWill prove sweet blessings in disguise;They'll waft you to a home above,Where I'll await your coming, Love!"Iheard these words and fell on the breastOf the peerless bride that heaven had dressed.I yearned for those blissful regions aboveWith heart overflowed with passionate love.My peerless flower, tho' nipped in youth,Perennial shall bloom in the Garden of Truth!I see in the distance a roseleaf handBeckoning me on to that glorious land.Tho' parted on earth we'll meet in the sky,Where bliss cannot perish, and love cannot die.Oh, bliss supernal! Oh, rapture complete,When earth-sundered ones in glory shall meet.For years and years I've watched in vainTo see that buried face again;In vain I've tried, with mortal eyes,To pierce the mysteries of the skies!Oh, sweetheart of the days of yore,Shall we meet on earth no more?Shall I languish all aloneWithout one sympathetic tone—One glance of love, one word of cheerFrom eyes and lips I hold so dear?Oh, hearken to my piteous cries,Beloved one, and forsake the skies!Oh, listen! Earth-born mortals, see!My angel bride has come to me!The self-same face—divinely fair—And heaven-set jewels decked her hair.Her laughing eye and glowing cheekEternal youth and bliss bespeak;My head is pillowed on her breast,My brow by her dear hands caressed!The dulcet tones of her dear voiceBids my aching heart rejoice;She folds me 'neath her dazzling wings,While all the heart within me sings!Oh, list those melting tones of love,More soft than note of cooing dove!Oh, hear the words her dear lips speak:"Death, dear one, is the boon to seek!"False are the glittering gems of earth,Eternity's gold is the gold of worth;One moment in heaven is worth a lifeSpent on earth 'mid care and strife!"Death is but the dawn of day,Destroying naught save worthless clay!The soul lives on in rapturous blissMore perfect than a virgin kiss!"Oh, dear one, still your haunting fears;The love, tho' lost, of earlier yearsAwaits your coming to the skies,And o'er you watch with jealous eyes,"Lest earth detain you till too lateTo enter heaven's wide open gate.Oh, tarry not on earth too long,But with me join immortal's song!"She spake, and through the vaulted sky,Beyond the reach of mortal eye,She wings her rapid noiseless flightAnd I am left alone tonight.Nay, not alone; for in my soulI feel a new-born sweet controlThat lures me to a higher life,Which will please an angel wife!Farewell, prison blight and bars,Mine is a home beyond the stars.Welcome, Death, at any hour,Since sin has lost her maddening power!
BY GEO. W. H. HARRISON.
'Tis midnight in these prison walls,And even the sentry's muffled tread
Sepulchral sounds, as if he trodThe silent confines of the dead.
In vain I close my weary eyes,I cannot sleep tonight;
I hear an angel's rustling wingsFresh from the realms of light.
A sacred presence haunts the air,A messenger from Heaven's own land;
And memory awakes again,Touched by an angel's wand.
I seem to hear, deep in my soul,The music of a heavenly choir,
While each pulsation of my heartAwakes in me the old desire
To see once more that lovely formDeath vanished in my arms;
To hear again her melting voiceAnd revel in her charms.
To feel the tender, soft caressOf a loved tho' vanished hand,
And hear from her departed lipsThe mysteries of that land
That lies beyond Time's rugged shore,To all unknown, save those
Whom angels capture for the skiesAt life's uncertain close.
I muse again, with loving thought,Of a sinless wife long dead,
And live again our buried past,By an angel presence led.
I view again the pleasing sceneOf a school house on the hill,
Where happy scholars daily met,Whose law was the teacher's will.
I see again the old armchairWhere the Master daily sat
With watchful eye and helpful hand,Yet sleepless as a cat.
I hear again the sleepless humOf voices low and sweet,
Of students pouring o'er the booksWith wisdom's germs replete.
Amid that happy, guileless throng,There was one peerless face
That held in the Master's tender heartAn undisputed place.
It was a face, O God! how fair!No words can ever paint;
More fit for heaven than for earth.It bore the contour of a saint.
The brow was high and broad and white,With a radiance all its own;
The cheeks, like lilies dipped in blood,Were oft as a rose full blown.
Eyebrows dark and delicately arched,Were penciled in Nature's play;
The ruby ripeness of her lipsSeemed never to melt away.
Her lustrous eyes, whose depths were brown,Yet seemed a darker hue,
Were windows of a spotless soulThat scorned to be untrue.
Abundant tresses of dark brown hairThat almost swept the ground,
Enveloped as chaste and lovely formAs e'er on earth was found.
A voice so soft, so sweet, so lowThat every accent woke
Sweet notes of blissful melody,As if an angel spoke.
None could look upon that faceAnd deem that aught of earth
Could chill the rapture of a soulWhere sin could know no birth.
Her mind had wondrous power and scope;It grasped the sea, the earth, the sky,
And rightly understood and lovedThe God who ruled on high.
Contentment, truth and virtueWas part of Nature's dower;
Self-sacrifice to her was joy,And prayer was conscious power.
While yet a child her spirit soaredAbove the things of earth,
And mused with soulful tendernessOn the heaven that gave it birth.
The teacher's stern, imperious heartYearningly worshipped this child,
And 'neath her hallowed influenceGrew tender, warm and mild.
The haughty heart, that never soughtThe plaudits of the world,
Poured its richest tributeAt the feet of this faultless girl.
The face, that never even blanched'mid war's terrific strife,
Grew pale as death the hour he askedThis child to be his wife.
No word she spake, but simply laidHer head upon his breast.
He folded her in warm embraceAnd knew that he was blest.
Each lived a life of conscious joy;Earth seemed a garden fair;
The lover sought earth's fairest flowersTo braid in her shining hair.
Deeply they drank at the font of love;Draughts few natures can hold;
The hours were seasons of perfect bliss;Each moment more precious than gold.
Days and months flew swiftly byOn the wings of happiness sped,
And two sweet babes were garneredAs the fruit of their marriage bed!
They neither thought nor dreamed of aughtSave their babes and coming bliss;
They greeted the morn with soft caressAnd welcomed night with a kiss.
Till, thundering on the wings of Time,Fate dealt the cruel blow
That dashed a home in piecesAnd laid a child-wife low.
The husband pressed her to his breastAnd fondly kissed his bride;
But with the parting of that kissThe sinless child-wife died.
The kindred angels joyful flewFrom the realms of endless day,
And gently wafted her soul above,But left to us her clay.
"She is dead! Kiss her and come away.Your cries and prayers are all in vain,
Your May-Bell is cold, senseless clay;In heaven above you'll meet again."
They smoothed her tresses of dark brown hairBack from her marble forehead fair;
Over her eyes, that oped too much,They closed the lids with a tender touch.
They closed with tender touch, that day,The thin, pale lips where beauty lay;
About her brow and her sweet pale faceThey tied her veil and bridal lace;
Placed on her feet the white silk shoesThat May-Bell for her marriage chose;
Over her bosom crossed her hands;"Come away," they said, "God understands."
With bowed heads they left the room,Still shuddering at its silent gloom;
And naught, save silence, lingered thereAround the corpse of May-Bell Clare.
But I loved her far too well to dreadThe silent, stately, beautiful dead.
I cautiously opened the chamber doorAnd was alone with my dead once more.
I kissed her lips, I kissed her cheek,But 'twas in vain, she could not speak.
I called her names, she loved, awhile,But she was dead and could not smile.
And not one passionate whisper of loveCould call her back from her home above.
"Cold lips," I murmured, "breast without breath,Is there no voice, no language in death?"
Dull to ear and still to the sense,Yet to the soul of love intense!
See, I listen with soul, not ear;What is the secret of dying, my dear?
Was it the infinite wonder of allThat you could let life's flower fall?
Or was it a greater marvel to feelThe perfect calm o'er agony steal?
Was the miracle greatest to find how deepBeyond all dreams sank down that sleep?
Did life roll back its record, my dear,Showing all past deeds dark and clear?
Oh, did love, sweet mistress of bliss,Affrighted, vanish to shun death's kiss?
For radiant ones in the world aboveForget those whom on earth they love?
Oh, perfect death! Oh, dead most dear,I hold the breath of my soul to hear!
I listen as deep as fathomless hell,As high as heaven, nor will you tell!
There must be pleasure in dying, my sweet,To make you so placid from head to feet!
I'd tell you, darling, if I were deadAndyourhot tears onmycheeks shed,
I'd speak, though the angel of death had laidHis sword on my lips, their accents to shade.
Not in vain should you, with streaming eyes,Beg to know Death's chief surprise.
Oh, foolish world! Oh, precious dead!Tho' you tell me, who will believe 'twas said?
Who will believe I heard you sayIn your own dear, kind familiar way:
"I can speak now—you listen with soul alone:To the eyes of your soulallshall be shown.
In this land of infinite blissThe utmost wonder, dear one, is this:
"I see and love and kiss you again;I smile at your triumph over pain;
I know your heart is honest and true;I'm a guardian angel to you!
"What a strange, delicious amusement is death!To live without being, to breathe without breath!
I should laugh did you not cry;Listen, dear one, love never can die!
"I am now your heaven-decked bride;My body and not my love has died!
Dear one,itlies there, I know,Pale and silent, cold as snow.
"And you say, 'May-Bell is dead.'Weeping o'er my silent head!
Ican see your falling tears,Hear your sighs and know your fears!
"Yet I smile and whisper this:I am not the clay you kiss;
Cease your tears and letitlie,It was mine, but 'tis notI!
"Dear one, what the women loveFor its silent home, the grave,
Is a garment I have quit,As a tent no longer fit.
"'Tis a cage from which, at last,My enraptured soul has passed.
Love theinmate, not theroom,Love thewearer, not theplume!
"Lovemyspirit, not thebars,That kept your May-Bell from the stars;
Be wise, dear one, and quickly dryFrom every tear your laden eye.
"What you place upon the bierIs not worth a lover's tear;
'Tis an empty shell at last,Out of which the soul has passed.
"The shell is broken,itliesthere,But thepearl, thesoul, ishere!
'Tis an earthen jar, whose lidGod sealed when it faintly hid
"The soul He made to live on high;The mind that did not, cannot die.
Let the dross be earth's once more,Since the gold is in His store.
"God is glorious! God is good!Now His word is understood!
Life's ceaseless wonder is at an end,Yet you weep, my erring friend!
"See, the loveryoucall deadTo immortal bliss is wed!
Loves and homes you lost, 'tis true,To such light as shines for you.
"Yet deep in your inmost soulYou shall feel my sweet control.
I'll be with you every hour,Commissioned by Almighty Power,
"To guard each moment of your lifeAs best befits your angel wife!
At night I'll linger 'round your bed,With an angel's noiseless tread;
"And while you, slumbering, dream of me,I'll be present, love, with thee.
Where e'er you go, where e'er you stray,I'll be near thee night and day,
"Guarding you with zealous care,Pointing out life's every snare,
Chasing every tear away,Aiding every joy to stay.
"Chide you when you go astray;Bless you when you kneel to pray;
Lead you, with an unseen hand,To view the wonders of a land
"Where Peace and Love and Perfect JoyTongue cannot name, nor peace destroy!
Shall ever bless the happy band,As radiant 'round the throne they stand!
"Once there, we'll never part again,Buttime, andlovewhile God shall reign.
I cannot,dare not, say farewell;Where I amnowyou, too, shall dwell.
"I am gone before your face,A moment's time, a little space.
When you come where I have steppedYou'll greatly wonder why you wept!
"You'll know by Love Eternal taughtThat Heaven isall, that earth is naught.
I beg you not to dread sweet death;'Tis but the first and faintest breath
"Of the life that God hath givenTo fit immortal souls for heaven!
Becertain, darling,allseems love,Viewed from the higher courts above!
"The cares and troubles that ariseWill prove sweet blessings in disguise;
They'll waft you to a home above,Where I'll await your coming, Love!"
Iheard these words and fell on the breastOf the peerless bride that heaven had dressed.
I yearned for those blissful regions aboveWith heart overflowed with passionate love.
My peerless flower, tho' nipped in youth,Perennial shall bloom in the Garden of Truth!
I see in the distance a roseleaf handBeckoning me on to that glorious land.
Tho' parted on earth we'll meet in the sky,Where bliss cannot perish, and love cannot die.
Oh, bliss supernal! Oh, rapture complete,When earth-sundered ones in glory shall meet.
For years and years I've watched in vainTo see that buried face again;
In vain I've tried, with mortal eyes,To pierce the mysteries of the skies!
Oh, sweetheart of the days of yore,Shall we meet on earth no more?
Shall I languish all aloneWithout one sympathetic tone—
One glance of love, one word of cheerFrom eyes and lips I hold so dear?
Oh, hearken to my piteous cries,Beloved one, and forsake the skies!
Oh, listen! Earth-born mortals, see!My angel bride has come to me!
The self-same face—divinely fair—And heaven-set jewels decked her hair.
Her laughing eye and glowing cheekEternal youth and bliss bespeak;
My head is pillowed on her breast,My brow by her dear hands caressed!
The dulcet tones of her dear voiceBids my aching heart rejoice;
She folds me 'neath her dazzling wings,While all the heart within me sings!
Oh, list those melting tones of love,More soft than note of cooing dove!
Oh, hear the words her dear lips speak:"Death, dear one, is the boon to seek!
"False are the glittering gems of earth,Eternity's gold is the gold of worth;
One moment in heaven is worth a lifeSpent on earth 'mid care and strife!
"Death is but the dawn of day,Destroying naught save worthless clay!
The soul lives on in rapturous blissMore perfect than a virgin kiss!
"Oh, dear one, still your haunting fears;The love, tho' lost, of earlier years
Awaits your coming to the skies,And o'er you watch with jealous eyes,
"Lest earth detain you till too lateTo enter heaven's wide open gate.
Oh, tarry not on earth too long,But with me join immortal's song!"
She spake, and through the vaulted sky,Beyond the reach of mortal eye,
She wings her rapid noiseless flightAnd I am left alone tonight.
Nay, not alone; for in my soulI feel a new-born sweet control
That lures me to a higher life,Which will please an angel wife!
Farewell, prison blight and bars,Mine is a home beyond the stars.
Welcome, Death, at any hour,Since sin has lost her maddening power!