Chapter 5

Only relics, yet precious and pure Are the dreams of the days of old, Though they tell of wounds that no charm can cure, And of bright hopes, dead and cold. Only visions of forest ways, Only thoughts of happier days, Only the glow of Life's sunrise haze When the morning sun was shining.

Only, it may be, a lock of hair, Or a flower sere and dry; Only a pictured face, how fair In the light of the times gone by! Only a sigh for what may not be, Only a yearning wish to see The light beyond the mystery That for weary souls is shining.

Only thoughts of the gladsome time When the world of youth was bright; Only memories of joys sublime-- The gleams of youth's fairy light, Only sweet flashes that come and go, Only the thrall that sets heart aglow, Only the spells we were wont to know When Fancy's rays were shining.

Only voices we hear no more, But the echoes haunt our ears; Only dreams that are past and o'er That we mourn through the lonely years Only to find that the sunny gleam Of earth's love fades like a passing dream, Only to wait for that deathless beam That "beyond the tide" is shining.

Only the clasp of a parting hand On the silent rivers' shore, As the dear one sails for the unseen Land And we see his face no more,-- Only to gaze o'er the waters drear, Only to wait till the call we hear, "Come over now, for rest is near Where the true life light is shining."

Only the burden all must bear, Only earth's weight of woe; Only to learn from each dreary care The patience the pure must know. Only this:--but what welcomes wait To hail us home at the pearly gate; Only to toil until night is late And awake where the Morn is shining.

FIRST PSALM.

How blessed are they who turn their steps From paths the wicked choose, Who stand not in the sinners ways, And scorners' seats refuse.

Who take their solace and delight In meditation pure-- The law of God--its depth and height, Its wisdom, might, and power.

They, like the trees on verdant banks Whereby sweet rivers flow, Shall bring forth fruit, and fadeless leaves, And prosperously grow.

But such is not the sinners' end-- Like the light chaff are they, Which when the softest winds arise, Are quickly swept away.

They shall not in the judgment stand, Nor sinners, scorning grace Be in the congregation found Where righteous men find place.

The Lord himself the righteous knows-- He marks them from their birth, But godless ways of sinful men Shall perish from the earth.

HER NAME.

The purple heather on the brae Was all abloom; by glen and weld The wild birds sang the live-long day, The corn-fields ripened into gold.

The garden blooms were wonderous fair; Red roses blushed in regal glow; Carnations scented all the air, Pure was the lilies' virgin snow.

But fairer than the garden flowers, Or all the summer blooms, wean Was she, whose smiles beguiled the hours-- Was she, whose presence charmed the scene.

Oh! pleasant were the sylvian glades, Oh! sweet the hush of summer noon; Roaming 'neath tangled green-wood shades We deemed _that_ twilight came too soon!

Our home-ward way lay through the wood, We lingered by the streamlet's side,-- False vows were made what time we stood There, 'neath the elms, that eventide.

I carved her name upon a tree,-- A gnarled old ash-tree, gaunt and grey; "The name may stay," she said to me, "When I, perchance, am far away!"

Swiftly the summers come and go, And life grows stern, and love grows cold; Dim are the days of long ago-- Their joys a story long since told.

But, sometimes, at the close of day, I dream of that dim wood, and see, A name upon an ash-tree grey-- 'Tis all the past has left to me!

MEMORY.

"And other days come back to me With recollected music."--BYRON.

How memory's boundless store is fraught With wonders, mystic and sublime! Bright gleams, that oft we set at nought; Sweet messengers from Heaven's own clime. The wind that stirs the boughs at eve-- A star that glimmers in the blue Of nights gemm'd crown, oftimes may wreathe A halo, strangely sweet and new. Round hopes and fears we used to know In life's young morning, long ago.

The cadence of the sighing waves That break in song along the shore, The winds that sigh thro', hidden caves Are echoes from the days of yore. The moonlight, stealing o'er the sea, So calm, above the restless tide, Is like the light that used to be In many a by-gone eventide, As memory comes, and paints each scene, Of loves and joys that once have been.

We feel the power, and own the spell, That bid the lonely spirit stray, In thought, to where our lost ones dwell, Now from our paths so far away We say "'tis dreams that Fancy brings," And go our way, forgetting still; But on the winds are angels' wings, And spirit power, our souls that thrill With yearning for that life unseen, Hid far behind this mortal screen.

For Memory still with subtle art Unfolds the bygone to our eyes, And still the lonely, longing heart Would soar beyond earth's mysteries, Till wearied grown of useless tears, And longing for the olden days, We turn to see the future years Lie smiling 'neath hope's rosy haze, And view the past with hopeful love, Made sure our life is "hid above."--

Hid far away from mortal ken,-- These wonderous gleams that round us stray, These meteors, 'mong the haunts of men, These holy thoughts, that day by day, Shine in their light of Heavenly hue O'er chequered paths of work and love, Refreshing as the tender dew, Are stray-beams from the light above Men call it Memory, but we know 'Tis Heaven's warm light on earth's cold snow!

TWILIGHT.

Twilight's shades are round me creeping, Nature dons her robe of gray; Through the blue the stars are peeping, Sunset's last, faint streaks decay.

Visions come of bygone hours, Ere these eyes were dimmed by tears, Youth's bright scenes unwreathed with flowers Dimly seen through mist of years.

Softly through the summer gloaming Steals this picture of the past; Through the wood the breeze is roaming Moon beams round their shadows cast.

By the murmuring, flowing river, Sits a maiden waiting there; Graven on my heart forever Is that form of beauty rare!

Vows are plighted, love is given, Trusting love without alloy, And the calm, blue, starry heaven Whispers but of truth and joy!

By the murmuring, flowing river, Where the shore the waters lave, Now the moon beams fall and quiver On a green and lonely grave!

Token sad of fond love slighted, Of a rose cut down in bloom, Of a fair young blossom blighted All too lovely for the tomb.

Softly through the summer gloaming Sighs the breeze a requiem low, And my sad heart, ever moaning Answers to its tones of woe!

TOLD IN THE TWILIGHT.

We left our ink-stained office-desk, Two, young in years, yet old in care; We laid aside our world-face mask, We laid aside our daily task To breathe the country air.

We laid aside our musty books, Grown almost hateful to our eyes; We longed to roam the country nooks, We longed to hear the murmuring brooks, And see the sunny skies.

We longed to hear the birds again, Minstrels that through the woodlands stray; We longed to hear the reaper's strain Sung in the fields of golden grain On the bright harvest day.

Oh! pleasant were the breezy downs! Oh! fair the lanes and fields; Far from the weary noise of towns, We half-forgot grim Care's dark frowns, 'Mong peace such quiet yields.

He said, The busy city's street The path of labour and of woe, The anxious faces, hurrying feet, The things that every day I meet, Are what I hate to know!

Oh! might I bathe in Lethe's stream, Forget the happy days gone by, And know this life a fleeting dream, And look on every passing scene As with a stranger's eye.

To walk along this quiet lane, To feel this evening calm, Ah! how it soothes my tired brain With peace I thought that ne'er again Would bless me with its balm.

'Twas in a lane like this, at even My life's peace came to me; A great, sweet joy to me was given, A pure, true love, whose hope has riven Earth's gloom and mystery.

A maiden, lovely as the glow Of Fancy's soul-land light, Once vowed to me for weal and woe, As calm or storm would come or go, Her love was 'mine by right!'

Twas Spring-time then, ere Autumn's blast Sighed with its dreary moan, To shake the brown leaves falling fast, Her sweet life-tale was told and past, And I was left alone!

'Twas hard to think that _she_ was dead, 'Twas hard to bear such pain; 'Twas hard to feel all brightness fled, 'Twas hard to count bright days swift sped That could not come again!

I sought her grave at eve, alone, And there before me lay Her tomb, a lily carved on stone, Meet emblem of my darling one So early called away.

And, 'neath the lily, words so sweet, In dreams they haunt my rest; Oft at their sound I turn to weep 'He giveth His beloved sleep.' Oh! portion purest, best!

Sleep to the weary body, worn, On earth, with pain and care, To meet the ransomed soul, new-born, On the Great Resurrection Morn, In God-like beauty fair.

There, at her grave, I bade farewell To all my heart loved best; I left our home, I could not dwell "Mong scenes our love had marked so well, I felt Grief's wild unrest."

This is my story told to you-- My holiest dream of life; The blest home-love that once I knew When she, so good, so fair, so true, I called my own--my wife!

My sunshine faded when she died, Such joy I might not know; God called her early from my side, And when I lost my gentle bride The world seemed full of woe!

He knew 'twas best--my stubborn heart Had need of chastening pain; To bow beneath the rod's keen smart, To learn, by grief, the better part, To feel such loss is gain.

And now no earthly idol smiles, No pleasant passions lure; No fleeting phantom now beguiles My soul from heaven with tempting wiles, My hope is fixed and sure.

She waits for me--the swift year's flight I count like miser's gold; I keep the "watches of the night," I wait until the morning light Its glories snail unfold.

SUNSET.

A burning flood of glory blazing far along the West, And clouds on clouds aglowing towering o'er the mountains' crest Till the shining, burnished columns and the ranks of crimson vie In a living trail of splendour, lighting all the evening sky.

The grand October sunset burns above the mountains' brow, Whose grey old heads shine redly, light-kissed and ruddy now; There the sunshine loves to linger in a parting glow of light, Ere Day his throne resigneth to the dusky reign of Night.

But low and lower sinking, the sun goes down the West And the dazzling beams are fading along the Ocean's breast Till, pale and paler growing, the grandeur dies away, And the wild waves and the breezes seem wailing for the Day!

For the fair Day, that has vanished--the brightness that is fled, And for all the sunny hours that are passed away and dead, The rosy flush of sunrise, the gladsome time of morn, And bird-songs sweet, that far and near told when the Day was born!

The tranquil hush of noontide, the mellow evening hours But ah! the Day's departure left desolate the bowers, And woodland haunts, and flowery dells, and mountain streams and glades Are lonely left in deepening gloom, and mystic twilight shades!

But through the Night's grim darkness the star-lamps bright shall burn, 'Till the lone Earth, cheered and hopeful, shall wait for Day's return, And gaze with wistful longing, till the dawn the far East hills, And the sun in regal beauty smile o'er the grand old hills.

Then life and light and brightness shall be her own again, And in the new-found gladness she'll forget the night of pain Forget the hours of darkness when deep in gloom she lay, And her weeping-time of sadness be "as waters that pass away!"

Thus, this dreary night of sorrow through which we wander here Be only transient darkness the long bright Day is near, Whose light of peace and glory the ransomed spirit fills, As it hails the dawn eternal upon the Heavenly Hills!

"CONSIDER THE LILIES."

Not gold nor diamond flash of dazzling brightness, No costly thing of earth Thou givest for thought; But these sweet simple flowers, beside whose whiteness The great king's glory all would seem as nought.

Thou knewest how soon must fade all earth's poor splendour, Worthless its wealth to Thine all-seeing eye; The short-lived glimmer of its pomp and grandeur Fleeting and transient only born to die.

Thou would'st not point our love to earth's frail treasure, But to these lilies, beautiful and pure; They toil nor spin not, yet their life's full measure Thou metest, and their day is kept secure.

Oh, lilies! well I love your snowy pureness! That once the Master deigned while here to trace, Pledges of His dear love, whose truth and serene Are faintly shadowed in your beauty's grace.

Meek teachers! could I learn that lesson given! If God so clothe the grass with beauty rare, Shall He not guide us on our way to heaven, And guard our pathway till we enter there?

Oh give me, Lord, a soul of lily whiteness, Washed in the blood that Thou hast shed for me, Thy Spirit's light to pierce earth's gloom with brightness And show the way thro' mist and cloud to Thee

Give me a heart whose treasure is in heaven, Not for to-morrow feeling anxious thought; Even as my day, so shall my strength be given, And grace sufficient--can I want for aught?

Oh, give me faith, that on Thy love relying, From doubt's dark thrall I may be ever free; And clothe me, Lord, that in the hour of dying, Thy righteousness, blest robe, may cover me!

Thus may I walk, by Thee, my Guide, befriended, 'Joyous with joy that knows no sad decay; That when earth's sun has set her brief day ended My morn may break and shine to "perfect day'"

SONGS OF THE SEA.

"My soul is full of longing For the secret of the sea, And the heart of the great ocean Sends a restless pulse through me."--LONGFELLOW

In the grey light of the morning, ere the sun has lit the sky When the winds rave loud and wildly, to the angry waters How the mighty, foaming billows thunder forth, in ceaseless roar, Songs majestic, wild with anguish, woeful waitings evermore. In the dawn light, in the gloaming, beating, breaking, o'er and o'er, Telling out the ocean stories, to the wide, encircling shore; And I listen, till the legends of the past, a shadowy host, Seem to gather round, and people storied Antrim's rock-bound coast.

Where the grandeur of the Causeway smiles in scorn at Art's weak hand, Seem the wild waves ever singing of the high schemes Nature plann'd, When she hurled the giant columns, by some mighty earthquake shock, Till they stand, huge pillar-wonders, by the paved, mysterious rock; And the dark caves, weird and frowning, echoing the sea's wild strife, Seem to hold some spell unearthly, of the ocean's secret life.

Where th'Atlantic rolls sublimely, lashing round Port Ballintrae, Language cannot paint the grandeur of the waves, in awful play! Beating, breaking, wildly seething, whilst in restless, fitful roar, Deep to far-off deep is calling, answering round from shore to shore. And the spirit of the ocean seems to fill its heaving breast With ten thousand prison'd longings, wailing out in wild unrest.

Softening down to calmer music, round the White Rocks and the caves, With a tender, nameless pathos, softly sing the curling waves To the battlements and turrets, and the old towers, grim and hoary. Where the stern Macquillan chieftains reigned in once unconquered glory. There Dunluce, in lonely grandeur, frowns in wild, and deathless pride, Sentinel of bygone ages, Time-tried warder by the tide.

Grey Dunluce, in concert blending, winds, and waves, and sounding sea, Seem to sing a dirge of sorrow for the glory fled from thee, Rolling onward to the Skerries, wailing far in requiem moan Till they catch the surf's bold thunder round toe rock at Innishone, Where the foam-girt shore re-echoes with the burthen of the song, And the angry dashing billows wide and far the cry prolong.

When the moonlight, pale and faintly, gleams on Malin Head's blue crest, And its silvery pathway shimmers far across the ocean's breast; When the yeasty breakers glisten softly in the shadowy light, When the rocks seem mystic castles, looming grimly thro' the night; Then the solemn songs of Ocean, fraught with precious, new- found lore Bring for Fancy unknown treasure, priceless gems for Thought's great store!

Grand old Ocean! how my spirit longs to catch thy melody Do thine heart's great pulses quicken with a secret life, oh, Sea? Far adown the blue waves, hidden by the hearings of your breast, Is there soul to tune your singing, to its ceaseless, wild unrest? Oh! thou dread and wondrous ocean, tell these mystic songs to me For their cadence, grand and changeful, haunts my path with mystery.

THE MOONLIGHT.

Silvery moonlight, clear and bright, Shining down on our earth to-night, Soft as the touch of an angels' wing, Tender, beautiful, holy thing!

Seeking the glen where the cool waters flow-- Lighting the bank where the violets grow; Gilding the crest of the foamy rill; Falling in silence upon the hill; Piercing the depths of the forest glade, Glancing down thro' the leafy shade, Till the loneliest haunts of the wild wood seem To rejoice in the light of thy radiant beam!

Glistening out on the trackless deep, Where the spirits of ocean their revels keep; Lighting the path over the billows' foam, As the mermaid glides from her gem-built home, And the peri's song o'er the heaving sea Sounds in fitful, plaintive melody!

Pouring down on the mountain pass, Where, tripping light o'er the dewy grass, The fairies join in their wild, weird dance, And the mystic forms thro' the moonbeams glance, While far and wide on the wind is borne Through answering echoes, the elfin horn.

Flooding with glory the prairie's breast, Till, all transformed, in the radiance drest, The shanty, south of the poplar wood, Seems a sylvian lodge in the solitude; And the settler dreams, with a moistened eye, Of the moonlights and loves of the times gone by.

Gleaming fair on the city towers Where the clocks, thro' the night, chime the passing hours, On the city's heart that no longer beats, With the ebb and flow of its noisy streets, And their living pulse-throbs that come and go, To the smile of joy, and the throb of woe!

Smiling down from a cloudless sky, On the village homes, that all peaceful lie; Where simple hearts, in a happier life, Know nought of the city's cares and strife,-- The hardy sons of honest toil, Pensioners free of their parent soil!

To hopeful hearts in the morn of youth, The dream-land of Love, and the type of Truth, Where the future shows 'neath its veil of light An Eden of blissful, untold delight

In the stern, hard struggle of manhood's days When tired feet stumble o'er life's rough ways, And in age's twilight of shadowy gloom, A dream of the rest that is yet to come.

Shine on, silvery moonlight, shine! Gladden earth with your beams benign; On restless ocean, on tranquil lake, Through forest alleys, by fern and brake; By quiet village, and crowded town, By mountain, prairie, and breezy down; O'er sights of gladness, o'er scenes of woe, Let the tender light of thy pure beams glow, And the weary and hopeless shall bless your light. And the child of joy have more pure delight.

"GOODNIGHT."

"Until the day break, and the shadows flee away." Cant. 2.17

Goodnight, beloved! see the sun descending, Behind the woodlands of the far, bright West, And in the glory of the daylights ending, The "light at eventide" brings dreams of rest.

Goodnight, beloved! now the grey-eyed gloaming Glides through the valleys with an unheard tread, And haunts the woodlands, where the wild winds moaning Wails o'er the leaves of Autumn, sere and dead.

Goodnight, beloved! see the pale stars peeping Through the blue curtain of the shadowy skies;-- The lamps the angels hold, their night-watch keeping, O'er souls who wait their call to Paradise!

Goodnight, beloved! a faint, lingering glory, Of dying daylight glows in parting smile; Its last kiss lighting all the hill-tops hoary, As though the hour with brightness to beguile.

So now, I dream, a tender love-light lingers O'er all the bygone, in a charmed glow,-- That hides the marks of Time's relentless fingers And gilds the cherished dreams of long ago.

How fair it shines! but ah! the West grows dimmer, The crimson radiance melts to sober grey, And so earth's dream-light fades in fitful glimmer, Its meteor brightness swiftly dies away.

Goodnight, beloved! for the shadows darken In gloom around me, and I cannot see; Come nearer, nearer still; beloved, hearken; I hear a far-off voice that calls for me.

Goodnight, beloved! a new light is breaking As earth's light fades to brighten nevermore; Goodnight, beloved! till that glad awaking When morning shines upon the other shore.

LOST.

The sunset burns on roof and spire, And streets with busy passers rife; But ah! it lacks the dream-world fire, That once 'twas wont to call to life.

That once it kindled in the days Of woodland haunt and country lane, Before I knew the city's ways, Before I learned that life has pain.

Oh! present, with your armed host Of anxious cares, barbed sharp, and keen Fade! for the light of pleasures lost Shines forth from days that once have been.

A fairer sunset charms the West A mellower radiance fills the air; A scene with old-time beauty drest, Lies stretched before me, smiling fair.

A rustic range-wall, gnarled and old, A wooden bridge that spans a stream; The glory of the sunset's gold. The sweetness of my first love-dream!

Two hearts that meet in passion'd thrill, Whose perfect bliss no words can tell; But once in life that joy we feel, And feeling, prize, alas! too well!

Oh! Time and Doubt! ye fill the heart With sepulchres of Love and Truth; Our hopes lie dead but memory's part Must still be played till life shall cease.

Oh! swift years ever drifting fleet Adown life's current, tempest toss'd, Roll on! till on Time's brink we meet And hail the life where nought is lost!

GOOD WISHES

TO ------ ON HIS MARRIAGE.