Part 2

One little spirit wandering Away from childhood’s home-- Came into unknown waters,-- Beneath a coral dome,--

She heard a spirit teaching A doctrine, new and strange; She listened to his preaching, And thought took wider range.

He told of other peoples Who lived above the sea. Of birds with brilliant plumage, Who in the air were free.

To her this was awakening From out a long, long sleep. The soul was stirred within her, To flowers of thought most deep.

Now to her home returning-- Dissension there arose; Her former friends so loving, Were now her bitter foes.

They cried to her “O heretic!” You are forever lost, Unless you pray to Neptune, And not by doubts be tossed.

There is no God but Neptune, There is no world but ours, There are no stars, nor planets, There are but sea-weed flowers.

And tilled with consternation At everything she said-- They even feared pollution, And from her they all fled.

* * * * *

Now e’en above the ocean Some bigot there may be, Who only prays to Neptune, Who dwells beneath the sea.

He sees no beauty ever, Except in his own flowers. And if from him you differ, Contumely on you showers.

THE WORLD IS ASLEEP.

Step softly for the world’s asleep And when it wakes, it wakes to weep O’er all the sins and dire mistakes That it will see when it awakes.

O’er griefs and sorrows of the race, Which all mankind must sometimes face. O, world sleep on, ’tis better so Than to awake and see the woe,

And burdens that mankind must bear; The aching hearts aye filled with care. In sleep you dream, and dream of peace; From turmoil dire you have surcease.

Sleep on! Dream on! From care be free Through time, and through eternity. There is no rest, ’tis toil alway; ’Tis warfare, death, and then decay.

WHAT IS THE FUTURE OF THE RACE?

What is the future of the race? I asked a little brook. It laughingly replied to me “I cannot stop to look.”

Then next I asked a gray old tree, It shook with laughter too. “Go ask the river, it may give An answer unto you.”

The river stopped upon its course, And unto me it said, “Go ask the ocean, it is wise And I shall soon him wed.”

The ocean seemed with anger filled, But unto me replied, “I have no time for foolish speech, Do not delay my tide.”

The wind, in answer to my plea A moment paused, to say, “Go ask the sphinx, perhaps she knows, And will your fears allay.”

I asked the sphinx, she seemed to smile, I started back aghast; She seemed to speak, I heard these words, “I only know the past.”

I bowed before the placid stone, And begged to know the past. “The present is enough for you, With all its questions vast.”

O tell me of the past I beg! O do not it withhold Sometime the future I shall know It will to me unfold.

* * * * *

“O man why seekest thou to know The future, or the past? The present is enough for you, If not with clouds o’er cast.”

The mountains seemed to pity me, The clouds shed showers of tears, The sun looked down in reverence, And said: “Allay your fears,”

“For there’s a power that rules mankind, E’er has and ever will. The future, and the past, are His, Are governed by His will.”

Then gazing at the works of God, My thoughts seemed trivial, small,-- Why should I worry o’er the race? When God is over all.

LOVE’S PATH.

Adown the many walks of life, Though stormy be the weather, We will clasp hands in confidence, And walk Love’s path together.

When days are bright we’ll happy be, And will not trouble borrow; But do the very best we can For clouds may come tomorrow.

Though life be filled with many cares, If soul with soul is blending, We’ll bear the cares most cheerfully. Love hath with us no ending.

When Death shall come, as come he must,-- For life is short, and fleeting, With outstretched hands and happy smile, We’ll give him kindly greeting.

A PRAYER.

O Thou Almighty Presence-- O Thou Almighty Power-- No greater in the heavens, Than in the smallest flower.

We bow to Thee in reverence, We kneel to Thee in prayer. We see Thee in the tiny weed, We see Thee everywhere.

We know that we are ignorant, And oftimes sinful are, But we would keep thy every law, No plan of Thine e’er mar.

For perfect are Thy mandates all, And perfect every work, And though we oft misunderstand, We would no duty shirk.

Thou pitiest us, Thy children, Wouldst teach us the right way Wherein to walk, and what to do, Wouldst teach us to obey

The law which Thou hast made supreme, But if we disobey, Thou still dost plead for our return To straight and narrow way.

O God our Lord we reverence Thee! And humble aye would be. We love Thee ever, though we sin Throughout eternity.

We know Thou art the only Power Which reigns supreme on earth, And though we many trials have, We thank Thee for our birth.

We thank Thee for the blessings rich That in our pathway lie. We thank Thee e’en for tears we shed, Thy love these tears will dry.

O help us Lord to do Thy work, And bury self so deep, That we shall every duty do, And have no cause to weep.

And when we come into the home That is prepared for us, We’ll fitted be to dwell within That home so glorious.

LIFE’S ROAD.

O the road seems long and devious That our weary feet have trod, Struggling, struggling, ever struggling, Till we rest beneath the sod.

Dark and hidden is life’s pathway, We have sought for it in vain; But have fallen by the wayside, Overcome by grief and pain.

And our feet are bruised and bleeding, And life’s burdens are so great That we fain would give up trying, And be governed aye by fate.

All life’s road seems filled with shadows, In despair we kiss the rod; Then we see that road leads upward From the depths, e’en up to God.

WHERE IS HEAVEN?

O where is heaven? cried a child. Is it above, beyond the sky? Is it above, beyond the clouds? How shall I find it when I die?

O where is heaven? cried a youth. It seems so far, so far away. This world is such a weary waste For Heaven’s peace I ever pray.

I long to know where heaven is, Is it the place where angels dwell? Is it the place where spirits go? Can mortal man the place foretell.

I’ve searched in vain the place to find-- I’ve sought, I’ve searched for heaven’s door, I cannot find one trace of it In modern book, nor ancient lore.

We’re told that heaven is but for those Who live a life all free from sin. If this is true, there is no hope-- No one will ever heaven win.

O where is heaven? an old man cried. Is it above the world’s fierce din? “A still small voice” then spake to him To find your heaven, O look within.

DESTINY.

When Destiny leads us We have to obey. No rest by the roadside; No loitering by way.

She beckons us onward With promise of peace; Alluring us ever, From bonds no release.

We struggle on blindly; Obeying her call. A shroud doth us cover, ’Tis Destiny’s pall.

The chains that aye bind us Too strong are to break; The fetters, and shackles Are Destiny’s make.

So strong are these fetters They bind us to earth. Grim Destiny welded them E’en before birth.

We rise from our bondage, And try to be free; But Fate is our gaoler, She holds fast the key.

The prison is guarded, No opening we see, ’Tis useless to struggle, For helpless are we.

Yea, Destiny rules us; A tyrant is she Who keeps us in bondage, When we would be free.

* * * * *

The warfare is ended. Our colors are down. We bow in submission, And Destiny crown.

She now is our monarch, On her we must lean, Obeying her ever, For she is our queen.

WHY?

Why should not we all understand The laws of life, of living? That everything in Nature’s works Is sending forth, and giving.

She gives her life to help mankind, She to the world gives beauty, And it is given ungrudgingly, And not because ’tis duty.

O let us try to emulate Dear Nature in her giving, Instead of thorns, give roses sweet; Then life will be worth living.

Send loving thoughts out to the world, Your cup returns o’erflowing; You’ll find it holds no bitter dregs If good you are bestowing.

LIBERTY.

A little dove impatient grew, And weary of his bars. He longed to break his prison bonds, And soar among the stars.

He beat his wings against the bars, And vainly tried to break The door of his small prison house. That freedom he might take.

For liberty he ever sought, He did not love his home. He ever wished that he was free Around the world to roam.

The little dove most weary was; Unhappy and distraught. O why should he a prisoner be? For liberty he fought.

But all in vain, he could not break The bars that held him fast. The future seemed as dark to him As had been all his past.

At last with broken, bleeding wings, He fell to earth in death. For freedom sweet, for liberty, He cried with his last breath.

MY SOUL AND I.

My soul and I a warfare waged, Which had the right of way? Precedence was a law laid down, Which one should it obey.

I claimed that _I_ was first on earth, My _soul_ put in the plea That _I_ was but the home for him; _He_ claimed eternity.

We argued long, and earnestly, But argued all in vain. Each one was sure that he was right, No point did either gain.

So worn was I with argument I closed my eyes to earth. How long I slept I do not know. I wakened to new birth.

I looked around for my lost soul-- Had it the victory won? I looked within, and then I found My soul and I were one.

Were one on earth, are one in heav’n, The body is not _I_, ’Tis but the garment of the soul, And in the grave must lie.

But soul lives on, forever on, ’Tis even one with God; It permeates all life, all space, Arising from its clod

A spirit of the universe,-- A light which never dies. For soul is all creation, And in the grave ne’er lies.

FORSAKEN.

They say that thou art false to me. It is not true, it cannot be. I loved thee once, I love thee yet; O dearest! canst thou me forget?

I loved thee e’en when first we met, And even now do not regret The love for thee that fills my heart. Wilt thou O dearest from me part?

O hath another won thy heart? Must I alone endure the smart That cometh from thy broken vow? If I must suffer, so must thou.

The past is dead, and buried deep, For thee my love I can but weep. Though sad the day that first we met, That past, for me, holds no regret.

E’en though thou lov’st another now, Again thou’lt break thy troth, thy vow. Thy fickle heart e’er fickle be Through time, and through eternity.

Thou seemest not so happy now, As when to me thou mad’st thy vow That sometime thou wouldst be my bride, And thy dear self to me confide.

The memory of that past is dear, Though lying on sad memory’s bier. And now farewell, “I love thee still, Against my wish, against my will.”

The future holds no joy for me If I am parted dear from thee. Farewell! Farewell! I give thee up. The dregs of life I now must sup.

But loving thee, I can forgive. Without thy love, I cannot live. Alone, forsaken, and bereft, There’s naught on earth for me now left.

Farewell! farewell! our past is dead, All happiness from me hath fled. The dreary future must be met; I find that I can _not_ forget.

I think that thou wilt love me dear, When I am dead, and o’er my bier Thou bendest down to look at me. My heart will then from grief be free.

FAREWELL.

My lover of the past, farewell! I do not thee regret; For thou hast proven false to me, And I will thee forget.

I would not turn the wheel of time, Thy recreant love to gain; For having once been false to me, Thou wouldst be false again.

My love a plaything was to thee, ’Twas only for a day; When weary of the love I gave, ’Twas cast by thee away.

My lover of the past, farewell! I grieve not for thee now. When trust is gone, love follows soon Upon a broken vow.

THE PEBBLE’S SOLILOQUY.

Though but a pebble on the shore of time, I feel my mission is sublime. Though man may tread me ’neath his careless feet-- With scornful look will e’er me greet--

I have my place, no one that place can fill; I live, and do my Master’s will. There is a power that lies within my heart-- I must live on, and do my part.

I am a part of God--His loving thought, And for some purpose I was wrought. Naught else on earth could fill the pebble’s place. To mountains grand my life I trace.

I will arise above my low estate, And with the angels even mate. I feel, I know, a pebble hath a soul, And heaven is its right, its goal.

God put me here, so why should I complain? I know I was not made in vain. To you the song of ages I can sing. Sweet flowers, in time, will from me spring.

And what is man? A pebble on Life’s strand-- With me, God holds him in His hand. And e’en from me deep lessons he can learn. To dust his body will return.

’Tis true he claims a soul, and so do I; For soul is God, and God doth in me lie. All that hath life, hath soul I do avow. With love, all things God doth endow.

I have ambition, and some day will rise To meet my God beyond the skies. For everything on earth, or in the sea Hath part in God, and immortality.

NOTE.

From the criticism of a friend, I am led to explain myself in regard to this poem (The Pebble) and some others. What is soul? That which lives forever--Well, a pebble disintegrates, and vegetation springs up from it. Vegetation supports the lower forms of life, which in turn support the higher, from atom up to God. Life is not matter, though _in_ all matter--_Life_, _Soul_, goes on through all eternity. God is in everything that he has created; therefore, _everything_ has _soul_.

AN ANGEL’S MESSAGE.

“Make merry,” cried the king, “drive care away. I would not think of crown nor nation now. The gayest of the gay I fain would be, I would that none today before me bow.”

“Today I would as humblest subject be, And I would even know the want of food. A vision was vouchsafed to me this morn, Methinks an angel by my bedside stood.”

“And one by one he placed before mine eyes My subjects poor, who live in direst need, Whilst I, in thoughtless rioting have dwelt. And not of them have ever taken heed.”

“Make haste and send swift couriers o’er the land, Through every hamlet, and through every town. Henceforth my scepter shall be love to all, And justice evermore shall be my crown.”

“Instead of pomp and pageantry, I will Hereafter seek to know my subjects all; Henceforth I’ll be a king in very sooth, And none need fear upon their king to call.”

“A monarch I will be of stricken hearts; Loud hallelujahs through my kingdom ring, For nevermore shall Hunger stalk abroad, A dark, dark blot upon the title, King.”

“Swift justice shall be meted out to all; Mine eyes are opened now.--I have been blind To all the misery that around me lay, All heedless of the sufferings of mankind.”

“So, merry be, for I have found my soul, And _Love_ is now the watchword of your king. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad, henceforth. Glad tidings now to all my people bring.”

THE RACE OF LIFE WITH TIME.

Life and Time once ran a race O’er hills of sorrow and despair. Life often halted by the way For he had many ills to bear, But Time went on, and on, and on.

Poor Life oft weary was, and worn. Oft fell at Time’s unflagging feet. But rose again with strength renewed, And valiantly old Time did greet. Who still went on, and on, and on.

Though Life oft blinded was by tears, Discouraged he could never be.-- While Time rushed on to win the race; Life’s work was for eternity. Yet Time still onward went his way.

Life cried, O tarry, father Time! One moment stop in thy mad race; There is so much that I must do, So many problems yet to face. Time took no heed, but still rushed on.

Life often staggered ’neath his load, And ever begged that Time would stay. But Time, with scorn upon his brow Rushed faster, faster on his way. Went madly on, and on, and on.

Time had precedence in the race, And to Life’s pleadings paid no heed. He cared not for Life’s weariness, Nor would one point to him concede. But still went on, and on, and on.

O Time! cried Life, one moment pause! O stay one moment in your flight, For I am weak, the road is rough; Too soon, too soon comes death’s dark night. Still Time went on, and on, and on.

Time went his way, nor heeded he That Life was weary, worn, distressed. Life’s burdens all too heavy were; At every dawn Time was refreshed, With courage new went on his way.

But Life still struggled bravely on, With patience bore his heavy load, And though he often fell by way Upon the weary upward road, Time took no heed, but still went on.

Life begged, implored that Time would halt, But Time ne’er tarried on Life’s way; But when Life wept, with pitying hand Time stopped to wipe the tears away, And then went on, and on, and on.

At last Time seemed to fall behind-- Then Life with joy increased his pace. Time laughed with almost fiendish glee, He knew that Life would lose the race, While he would still go on, and on.

Poor Life gave up the fight at last, He laid his burdens down and died. But still with agonizing voice With his last breath to Time he cried. Time took no heed, but still went on.

O DEATH WHERE IS THY STING?

The world will still go on its course When we have passed away. Not e’en one ripple on Life’s waves There’ll be for e’en one day.

How vain and fleeting is all life, ’Tis but a little breath. ’Tis but a smile, and then a tear, And then to us comes death.

We have high hopes at life’s bright morn, Alas! they fade by noon. They fade, they wither, fall to earth, And death is then a boon.

Yet over all our dead, dead hopes, We joyfully will sing: “O Grave where is thy victory? O Death where is thy sting.”

THE MOTHER’S PLEA.

It is my little baby, Now lying fast asleep. Her brow with wrinkles furrowed.-- O angels guard and keep My precious, precious baby.-- For her I’d gladly die To save her life from sorrow,-- For grief is ever nigh.

* * * * *

Now ope thine eyes my baby, And gaze thou into mine. If thou dost love me darling, Thine arms around me twine. I loved thee O my baby Before thou camst to earth. I longed for thy dear coming, I longed for baby’s birth.

Thou wert a gift from heaven, And selfishly I cling To thee my precious baby. No sorrow dost thou bring. Dost know that ’tis thy mother That’s speaking to thee now? If so, the little wrinkles Will vanish from thy brow.

Look up to me my baby, And put thy hands in mine. Dost thou not know, my precious! That for thy love I pine? Was’t kind in me, thy mother To give to thee earth-life? With all of its wild turmoil, And all of its fierce strife.

If life shouldst be a burden, No joy in it for thee, Will future life repay thee? And I forgiven be? Will heaven be compensation For all of earthly care? Wilt thou forgive thy mother For all that thou must bear?

In vain is all my pleading-- Alas! it is too late,-- For thou must bear life’s burdens, And thou must meet thy fate.-- But, angels guard, and keep thee, This is thy mother’s prayer. At last to heaven take thee; To meet thy mother there.

TO A FRIEND.

O thou fair daughter of a northern clime! To thee, dear heart, I dedicate my rhyme. Dost know that life to thee shouldst be sublime?

Though thou hast many problems yet to face, Thou wilt not fall, nor falter in the race. Nor e’en the smallest thing in life debase.

“New England” blood is coursing through my veins, No evil deed, nor thought, thy pure heart stains. Thy life is melody,--not sad refrains.--

In brightest life, some shadows there will be. If thou dost bear these shadows cheerfully, The clouds will break, and sunshine come to thee.

Not having burdens of thine own to bear, Thou must be willing others’ griefs to share, There are enough for all, and some to spare. If this thou doest uncomplainingly Thou wilt be blest throughout eternity.

TIME WAITS FOR NO MAN.

O father Time one moment tarry! I have so much, so much to do, And death will find my work unfinished, For every day brings something new. O Time, dear Time, what doth it matter? A month, a year, is naught to thee, But hours, minutes, even seconds, To me doth make eternity.

Much time I feel that I have squandered; So many hours, so many years.-- The misspent time that now confronts me Will ever cause me bitter tears. Life is so sweet when breaks the morning, But groweth bitter by the noon; By night I am so worn and weary, E’en death doth seem to me a boon.

O Time give back my happy childhood, And I will bless thee ever, aye; My every task with joy performing; And not from duty will I stray. E’en Time seemed filled with deepest pity, But cried, “O man, it is too late To save the years that thou hast squandered; So I must leave thee to thy fate.”

“Farewell O man! I must not tarry; Long years ago my work began. In vain, in vain is all thy pleading For Time and Tide wait not for man.” Farewell then Time, farewell for ever; For there is naught but death for me. A slave I have been to thee ever, But now, in dying, I am free.

TIDE WAITS FOR NO MAN.

O Tide, O Tide, just wait one moment, My ship is not prepared to sail; She must be manned with sailors trusty, Equipped to meet the coming gale. It turned, and looking back a moment, In angry waves this speech began: “I cannot listen to thy pleading, I cannot wait for any man.”

It turned and left me at my mooring, And seemed to mock my earnest plea: “Too long already I have tarried On my long journey to the sea.” Again it turned, and looking backward, Derisively thus spoke to me; “Thy words to me are vain and useless, No longer will I list to thee.”

And yet he seemed to have some pity, With kindness spake again to me. “O man why art thou so persistent? My work has been mapped out for me; Was given to me by my Creator, In æons past my work began. I must no longer to thee listen, I must not wait for any man.”

“Farewell O man! Farewell forever! Dost thou not know that I am free?” And waving me a bright good morning, The Tide then hastened to the sea. Alone I stood upon Life’s landing, The waves to me this message bore: “Thou needst no longer by me loiter.” They then receded from the shore.

Upon Life’s shoal I now was stranded; Alone, forsaken evermore. All hope had with the Tide receded, Life’s ship was left upon the shore.

FREEDOM.

The prisoned bird doth oftimes sing Behind its prison bars; But sweeter far its song would be If carolled to the stars.

Just ope his door, he flies aloft, The hills with music ring. Exultant notes of melody The bird when free, will sing.