Part 2

Ho, peerless crown! Ho, fadeless palm! Bright land where ransomed spirits be! True love to God with love to man, Ensures a blessed eternity.

THE MESSAGE.

Ye sweet summer birds! in your flight Afar o'er the southern sea, Will ye stoop from your aerified height To whisper my lover of me?

Again will ye hoist your bright wing When ice-fields unloose from our shore; New tunes through the woodlands shall ring;-- Those tones! shall I hear never more?

Remind him that low in the sky Sails the god of the long summer day; That later the glory-glints hie From their couch, with its curtains of gray.

Yet--tell him through nature's vast range, Reaped harvests, ripe forests aflame;-- Oh! tell him, through oceans of change, I'll love him forever, the same.

HIS OFFERING.

"Where's mother?" and with eager haste He bore Love's offering; The first, bright flowers which oped their eyes; Sweet heralds of the Spring.

Those tiny stars which dot with light The young year's tender green; As silvery tapers gem the doole Of evening's sable screen.

Ho! worlding of the callous mind! Deem this a trifling thing? O'er little deeds of loyal love Great mother-love doth sing.

More precious from those chubby hands, Those sweet, wild flowers of Spring, Than priceless jewels from the store Of coroneted king.

LOUISBURG--1745.

"Unbridled appetite was followed by deadly fever, and before Spring 1200 of Peperell's men filled graves in the conquered soil."

Brave maiden-love! bright sister-faith! Of this Columbian land, Why should fair youth, as tidal wreck, Drift up on either strand? Ye mothers! when your sons set sail On life's tempestuous seas, Why pray ye Heaven's propitious calm To quell each rising breeze?

If haste for fame, or wealth of lore, Or thirst for worldly pelf Be set above that priceless boon, The power to conquer self. To guard that no insidious foe The citadel shall win; To note, as quick-eared sentinel, The first approach of sin.

The surges tossed in seething foam Upon that rock-bound shore; Yet the brave men of New England Down to the leeward bore. The Frenchman's warning gun booms forth, The heavy seas resound; What reck they! with determined mien They tread the solid ground.

Mere raw recruits and all untrained In stratagem of war,

Not Gallia's veterans, skilled in arms, Their landing place might bar. Through hardships dire and manifold They upward, onward press; On, till the blossomings of hope Are fruited with success.

And all through proud New England, And far across the wave, The name of Massachusetts And of her soldier brave Is linked with joy and feasting; While Britain's fair renown Gleams fairer for the added gem, Which decks her ancient crown.

More bright the clear, translucent sky, More dense the shadows fall; More glorious the spirits glow, More black the dismal pall; Oft, through celestial sunlight, Breaks forth dull thunder shower; Oft, over brilliant visionings Dark disappointments lower.

So, in first flush of triumph, Crept in an artful foe, Whose craft and daring overcame Without one open blow. More certain than the Gascon shot In siege, on field of war; And deadlier than the scalping knife Of subtle Indian, far.

And those brave, who never faltered Before a human form, Who never shrank from danger's path, Or cowered beneath a storm, Fall down before that reaper's hand As falls the sun scorched grain; And Glory's wreath, and Victory's song Alike are void and vain.

THE WOODS AND THE SEA.

They gathered round with feeling heart, From hamlet far and near; They strove in vain, with kindly words, Her stricken soul to cheer. For over the night of anguish Dawned never break of day; That sun which sank in frowning skies Left ne'er a softening ray.

Oh broken heart! Oh empty life! Oh sad, low monotone! "The woods and the sea have ruined me; Alone! yea all alone!"

She'd left her peaceful, native shores And dared the stormy wave With him whose troth was love and truth; The young, the strong and brave.

They raised a cabin on the wild, In shade of branching tree; And there the mother reared the child, And time passed merrily.

Toil reaped the gain of comfort sweet; And by the fireside blaze, Glad souls went up in grateful song, In voice of joy and praise. Sweet lyrics of the heather land The evening hours beguiled; While age re-lived its youth once more, And happy childhood smiled.

Dark shadows mar the brightest heaven, And, sharp as warning bell, Sore tidings of their sailor's death Upon that homestead fell. Then, when the winter spread earth's shroud Of pure white, glistening snow, Upon those mourners fell apace A still more bitter blow.

All night, amid the biting frost, With darkest gloom o'er head, Upon the fir-tree's broken boughs Three wanderers made their bed. But, ere the dawn had streaked the sky With glorious hues of day, The brightest life e'er blessed a home Was stilled in death for aye.

The seasons cycled; peaceful years Again verged into woe;

By fatal stroke of falling tree The silvered head lay low. She stood beside the aged form; Her brain seemed all on fire;-- The billows rolled, the forest waved O'er fated sons and sire.

Oh narrow bounds of earthly ill! Oh sad and suffering throng! Oh ye! who drink the bitter cup; It cannot be for long. The woe-worn frame now resteth well; The soul hath found its own; Where shades of earth no more may blight, In lustre of the Throne.

No more she sings, in lonely grief Her weary monotone: "The woods and the sea have ruined me; Alone! yea, all alone!"

THE GATE.

The light of love o'er her features played, The silver streaks through her bright hair strayed.

Her noble mien and her gentle hand Proclaimed her daughter of no mean land.

Voice and action attested her birth, Better than mere gilt baubles of earth.

Winter had folded its shroud and fled; The daisies peeped from their grassy bed.

The dark mounds rose from their circling green; Young plants smiled back to the bright'ning sheen.

No wealth of splendor, yet choice as gold Those gifts from hands of the loved of old.

Hands which will clasp my hand nevermore Till feet stand firm on the tideless shore.

Careless young Playful had oped the gate; Hastening footsteps, that could not wait,

Had sped where playtime and boyhood meet; The gate, forgot, swung ope from the street,

From the highway where the cattle roam, And Arabs find their kindliest home.

The gate might swing till the twilight hours; Meantime, alack for the tender flowers!

II.

Came she, 'mid the many passers by; Quick of the wit and clear of the eye.

She, of the high-bred, Christian school, Soul-lit and sunned of the golden rule.

Questioned she whether! halted she long! Qualms of propriety right no wrong.

Yield form and fashion their fitting place; Yet, cramp not the soul in meaner space.

Hence to marauders, and riskings of fate, She quietly closed--then latched the gate.

Trumpet bequests of the miser-mind, Who spreads abroad when he cannot bind.

Boast ye those deeds which blazon the name, Lofty as adamant heights of Fame.

Dawning of glory! the world's great heart Throbs not its truest response to art.

Nor skill, nor fame, nor glamour of gold; Only Love's chain doth the world enfold.

And those who will soar on angel wings, Are the generous even in smaller things.

Generous when shadows darken fate, To close 'gainst evil a neighbor's gate.

THE HIDING PLACE.[Note]

The low, sweet voice of a summer's sea Floats far along the pebbly strand; Whilst melodies, from greening grove, Resound o'er all the pleasant land. The streamlet, freed from icy band, Sings gaily on its seaward way; All nature, in responsive mood, Doth chime in Springtide roundelay.

What notes discordant dare to mar Those tender cadenzas of song? Can those shrill tones be tones of wrath On softest zephyrs borne along? Yea! over Ocean's peaceful hum A woman's wrathful voice soars high; And through the green-arched forest aisles Rings out young childhood's plaintive cry.

Who cometh, arrayed in priestly guise, Full-charged with embassy divine, Of noble mien, of princely port, Of lofty brow and look benign? The mother stays the uplifted hand;-- The culprit turned, and quickly ran And refuge sought, and shelter found Beneath cloak of the holy man.

Calm, clear and firm the warning fell "Forgive! if thou wouldst be forgiven; Whose heart doth harbor angry thoughts Can ne'er as penitent be shriven.

Forgive thy son! this once forgive! His surety I shall gladly be; Or, if justice claimeth punishment, Then--visit his crimes on me."

* * * * *

The years rolled on; the priestly garb Bedecks a princely prelate now; The saintly voice a blessing speaks From underneath a mitred brow. In his rounds of zeal the Bishop seeks Once more fair Lennox' sea-girt isle; When lo! from out the gathering shades, The brilliant lights of welcome smile.

In centre of a glittering throng The reverend Father stately stands; And, in the name of the Triune God, He upraiseth his sacred hands. Whilst, leader in that vast array, Whose torches brighten wave and shore, Is he whose faults were answered for; The saved of many years before.

So we, in our rebel sin-nature, Pine under the chastening rod; And fly with our burden of evil From wrath of a just-dealing God, To hide in Christ's sheltering raiment Of righteousness, inwove with peace; To find, in a sinless substitute, The sin-fettered soul's release.

So we, when our Great High Priest shall come, Begirt of power, enrobed of state, And the peoples of ten thousand isles With eager joy His advent wait, Shall hail, with a heartsong of rapture, His step on our sin-furrowed strand; Shall march, with the grand triumphal throng, In the glow of a God-lit land.

A CHRISTMAS MEMORY.

Hail Christmas! beacon ever bright; Athwart the way-worn years; Full lustred of celestial light, Thy white-robed dawn appears. Blest season! when our much beloved Around one altar meet; When voices from the spirit-land Our longing spirits greet.

In tender memories arise, Sunlit, the days of old, When radiant vistas oped the skies And streaked earth's grey with gold. Beneath a lofty castle dome Three fair young dreamers smile; And, fraught of love, the light of home, The flitting hours beguile.

They wander by the river side, They rest in woodland bowers;

Pure joy flows like the rippling tide Through all the sunny hours. They climb the purple mountain crest, They list the vesper call;-- Ah me! gay life, then quiet rest; Earth's shadows! darksome pall!

Yet, lo! seraphic vision breaks;-- That beauteous band I see, Where glory-dawn in gladness wakes; Where all the ransomed be. High-seated in Immanuel's land, 'Yond shadow of the tomb; Safe-nurtured 'neath a Father's hand Immortal youth doth bloom.

Oh! happy, happy hearted! Who tread the golden floor; Oh! sinless, early parted! Who live, to die no more. Bright land, where none may sever! Where life is life for aye; Where, through the long forever, No night shall veil the day.

Within the grand, orchestral throng They harp, with crownèd brow; While sadness mingles with our song, We at His footstool bow. Hail Christmas! light to weary eyes! Light thou the years along; Till, all as one in Paradise, We sing our Christmas song.

THE IMMIGRANT'S APPEAL.

Oh! ye who suffer ills untold Upon the ground you tread! Whose children pine from want and cold, And cry in vain for bread, Fold not your hands o'er cruel fate, Nor weep with blinded eyes; Look onward! peace and plenty wait Aneath our western skies.

I left my home in Erin's Isle, By Shannon's glittering wave, I bade farewell a mother's smile, A youthful husband's grave. Together with my orphan band I crossed the raging sea, And sought and found in this bright land A home for them and me.

Where riches may not rob the feast Won by the hand of toil; Nor oust the man to feed the beast Upon God's fertile soil. Where sterling worth may upright stand, Where industry is blessed;-- Yes! though I love my native land, I love this land the best.

Here Scotia finds her sweet blue bell, Here Erin's shamrock blows; Whilst incense floats o'er hill and dell From England's fragrant rose.

Each country finds its own again Tenfold, in this great world, Where Freedom's hand, from mount to main, Her banner hath unfurled.

Fair Canada! all lands above In power to conquer wrong; Thou yieldest love in turn for love, Thy strength shall aye be strong. Oh beauteous, peerless, wide domains! Oh ever teeming store! Though exiled myriads seek thy plains, There's room for myriads more.

Now, where the Rocky summits rise, At tender eve's decline, I watch the sun of cloudless skies O'er many an acre shine. My heart's best treasures by my side, The years may ebb and flow; Till I shall greet, 'yond storm and tide, The loved of long ago.

THE QUEEN'S JUBILEE.

I.

Ring out, gay notes! through the brightening blue; Peal forth o'er the shimmering wave; Re-echo in souls of the brave; Bestir the hearts of the loyal and true.

Waft the sweet strains from the dear Mother-land To the dwellers by far off sea; Loud anthem the glad Jubilee From white-robed North unto burnished strand.

Anthem the years of the peaceful decades When learning asserted its sway, And poortith revived in its ray; When science and art illumined our glades.

Broken that power which the conscience would bind, Base umpire 'twixt God and the soul; No tyrant free speech doth control; Loosed are the fetters which burdened the mind.

Rides Progress aloft on triumphal car, Out-coursing the wings of the wind; To the gorgeous fanes of Ind Rich blossoms his path, from the Polar star.

Philanthrophy opeth her gentle hand; Devotion Heaven's dictate obeys; Dawns clearly Hope's halcyon days;-- Golden their gleam, as Aurora's bright wand.

Live Commerce, careering the white crested wave, Quells baneful suspicion and fear; From high unto lowliest sphere Blendeth in union--our Empire to save.

II.

Now harmony striketh a tender chord In the lay true Loyalty sings; For the offering which she brings Is dearer than trophy won by the sword.

Praise for those virtues which never wax old, Lustrous gems in a noble life; Praise for the calm amid the strife;-- Serene is the spirit of sterling gold.

Rolls from our vision the mist of the years, Adown through the dark aisles of time, Life's canvas, with picture sublime, In its radiance of beauty, appears.

Soft falleth the sun of a kindly zone On the Abbey, so old and grey; On the tomb of a former day; Bathing in splendor the image of stone.

Sparkling in flame on the jewelled brow Of the peeress, highborn and fair; Anon on the mouldering chair, Yclad of the royal, pure ermine, now.

Arrayed in the trappings of princely state, Loadstar of a glittering band; Our fair young Lady of the land-- She stands--the greatest where all are great.

Crowned with the crown which her brave fathers bore, Largess of honors kiss her feet; Enwraps her with dignity meet Prestige of might, as the birthright of yore.

High-throned in the love of a nation's heart, Rich treasures of promise, I ween, Cheer the steps of our youthful Queen; Lighten the future, and courage impart.

III.

Vanished that picture of glorious youth, Dark clouds o'er life's midsummer came; Yet scathless the seasons retain The loving trust, and the honor and truth.

Full oft, o'er the fairest spring morning, There falleth a bitter, cold blight; Oft shroudeth in darksomest night The ruddiest sun heaven adorning.

So fell _he_ in full flush of his manhood, So dropt _they_ in life's glowing spring; Yet the anguished soul wakened to sing, The tear-bedimmed eyes perceived the All-Good.

Richer than diamond of Indian mine The treasure Victoria owns; Firmest pillar of earthly thrones, True sympathy,--typing the Love Divine.

Thrice blessèd sympathy! may it surround And cheer her graceful evening's calm; Till sceptre yields to victor's palm, May the faith and hope, and the love abound.

Voice then the homage of millions as one; Wreathe garlands of amaranth flowers; Nor last be Canada--hers and ours;-- For here doth the blood of true fealty run.

Thunder it over the wide ocean's sheen! Sing it by peaceful inland sea; "God bless our glorious Jubilee! God bless and defend our most noble Queen!"

POINT PRIM.

Far off from the smoke, and the city's glare, To the breath of the clover lea; From the din and dust to the healthful air, And the song of a tranquil sea. Which falls on the ear like a holy psalm From a world unkenned of strife; As the eve glides past in a blissful calm, Like the close of a well-spent life.

Yet sighings of sorrow are heard in the foam Which white-wreathes thy border, Point Prim; As she telleth their fate, who left thee, to roam, The eyes of the mother wax dim. Of him who ne'er quitted dread danger's post Till engulfed in the treacherous wave; Or of him who fevered on sultry coast, And was launched in the sailor's grave.

No thrilling oration shall vaunt their praise, No flowers bloom over their breast; The surges shall wail through the long, long days, Yet disturb not their quiet rest. No kindred shall bind them in narrow bed, No marble earth's sympathy crave; Sea-shells will pillow the wave-shrouded head, And winds sigh the dirge of her brave.

No more by the wood path, through falling leaves, Will she hasten their steps to greet; But yet will she gather her golden sheaves, When time and eternity meet.

No more will they weather the tempest's strain, With a lowering sky o'erhead;-- One haven will shelter her loved again When the sea giveth up its dead.

ORWELL BAY.

Sweet, pale-faced Queen of silent night! Calm-seated on thy azure throne, Shed forth thy beams of silvery light Till nether realms embrace thine own. Till gleaming spire on tree-crowned hill, With waving corn on valley land; Till peaceful flood, and noiseless mill Seem burnished of enchanter's wand.

And you, ye moonbeams! softly glide Along fair Orwell's glittering wave; And gently rest where all my pride Lies buried, in my Mary's grave. Oh Mary! lovèd of my youth! Oh blissful dreams of early day! When love was life, and troth was truth, And hallowed shrine was Orwell Bay.

Full oft, upon thy banks, of yore, With hearts entwined in love divine, While murmuring wavelets kissed thy shore, We watched the radiant day's decline. When sorrow fell, when times were hard, Love held its faith, youth hoped the best;

I bade farewell thy greening sward, And turned me to the glowing West.

Dull seasons fled, dark shadows lowered, My utmost efforts were unmeet; When sudden, fickle Fortune showered Her golden largess at my feet. As needle turneth to the pole, So, homeward hied my steps to thee; But ne'er shall love, or kindred soul, Or joys of youth return to me.

Not all my wealth of hard-won gold Could shield from blight that lustrous head Now lying in the churchyard mould;-- The church where we had hoped to wed. I list the sweet, clear notes which thrill Through wooded uplands o'er thy wave; The music in my heart is still, Still as the stars o'er Mary's grave.

Oh, gorgeous lamps of living light! Which halo all the arc of blue, Ye emblem to my raptured sight The white soul of a life most true. My Mary! tender guiding star! I bow before the Sovereign sway;-- That higher realm, where nought can mar, Is fairer e'en than Orwell Bay.

GOING ABROAD.

Oh fleeting hour! Oh faltering heart! Oh long and sad farewell! How bitter long we twain may part It is not ours to tell. For many a golden shaft will beam Through many a pearly rain, Down forest aisles, o'er mountain stream, Ere we can meet again.

Yet, when on far off ocean's foam, Or on some foreign strand, Bright Memory wafts thy spirit home Unto thy native land, Bethink thee of those gladsome days When carelessly we strayed O'er furrowed sand, or daisied braes, While Ocean minstrels played.

'Neath gleaming skies of cloudless blue; Beyond the tropic's glare, Where bright-eyed birds of rainbow hue Float through the perfumed air; By pictured scenes of former age; In seats of ancient lore, Where poet, painter, sculptor, sage Illumined days of yore,

Recall that grand, familiar sight, When heaven seems all ablaze With floods of gold and purple light,-- Aurora's matchless rays.

And when, from black, dissonant sky No stars may vigil keep; When boisterous seas exult on high And o'er the taffrail sweep,

Bethink thee of those days to be, When floods shall swell no more; Nor loud-voiced surge, nor angry sea Shall break upon the shore. Where white-winged storm shall never beat Across the verdant plain; Where severed lives, once more complete, E'erlasting life shall gain.

THE STUDENT.

The cloudless sun of southern clime Shone full that Christmas Day, As the city of the Cæsars Held regal holiday.

For Him whose gracious advent, Hailed in seraphic tone, The saved of earth, and saints in Heaven In grateful praises own.

Full loud above the city's hum Pealed forth cathedral chime; While round the loftiest, proudest dome, Wreathed harmony sublime,

Which thrilled among those ruins vast That long have braved the skies; Proud monument of Pagan hate And Christian sacrifice.

Rejoicing echoes filled the breeze That fanned the martyrs' tombs; Fit requiem! they sowed the seed Which now triumphant blooms.

Where Reason held its vaunted sway, Firm-leagued with Godless might, Round storied urn, through marbled halls Loud shriek the birds of night.

Whilst borne along the sounding waves Which fleck the furthest shore, That light of life, that perfect faith Sealed with the martyrs' gore.

But, within that regal city, On that bright Christmas Day, In hectic flush of fever heat A stranger student lay.

A stranger from a distant land Across the western sea, Where peace doth reign, and howe'er poor Man feels that he is free.

Of faith inspired, he'd crossed the foam And left his native sod, That he his years might consecrate To winning souls for God.

No higher aim was ever sought, No purer soul was shriven; For the whole purpose of his life Unto his Lord was given.

A noble matron sat beside And soothed his dying bed; One who, with mother's tenderness, Had wept _her_ early dead.