And as he viewed the ever-changing scene,
He heard the breezes whisper to the sea
How they had come that morning from a wood,
Where, in the warmth of springtime, all was green;
How they had lingered there in furtive mood;
How they had kissed a crucifixion tree
That angels guarded; and the listening One
Bowed down His head in sweet humility.
"Father, Thy will," He cried, "not mine, be done."
Then sped the vernal breezes, fair and free,
To bear the tidings back to Calvary.
THREE authors stood upon the beach
And watched the fishing-smacks heave to;
As far as human eye could reach,
Swept one expanse of saline blue.
First Hawthorne spoke: "While ebbs the tide,
Suppose we three a-fishing go?"
"T is well," the white-haired Stoddard cried. "Amen," quoth Reverend E. P. Roe
"Neath yonder hedge, where burdocks blow
And chirps the cricket to his mate,
Methinks the plethoric gentles grow;
Come, let us dig a few for bait."
Thus big, strong Julian Hawthorne said;
But with a smile that answered "No,"
The dear old Stoddard shook his head;
And quoth to Reverend E. P. Roe:
"Although, assuredly, I am
Unlearn'd in piscatorial lore,
I mind me that the modest clam
Beats all your bait that grows ashore;
Still care I not, and you, friend Roe,
Shall name the bait and fix the terms;
So now decide before we go-
Shall it be clams or angleworms?"
66 "T is not for such a wretch as I
To say what shall or shall not be,
For He who heeds the raven's cry
Will care, in His good time, for me.
Whether upon the ocean tides
Or by the water-brooks I go,
I'll take the bait the Lord provides!"
Remarked the Reverend E. P. Roe.
July 3, 1886.
THE sun climbs up, but still the tyrant Sleep
Holds fast our baby boy in his embrace;
The slumb'rer sighs, anon athwart his face
Faint, half-suggested frowns like shadows creep.
One little hand lies listless on his breast,
One little thumb sticks up with mute appeal,
While motley burns and powder-marks reveal
The fruits of boyhood's patriotic zest.
Our baby's faithful poodle crouches near;
He, too, is weary of the din and play
That come with glorious Independence Day,
But which, thank God! come only once a year!
And Fido, too, has suffered in this cause,
Which once a year right noisily obtains;
For Fido's tail or what thereof remains-
Is not so fair a sight as once it was.
FROM the land of logs and peaches
Came a callow jay-bird dressed
In homespun coat and breeches
And a gaudy velvet vest;
His eyes were red and wistful,
And he gawped a rural stare,
Yet, withal, he had a fistful
Of the stuff that speeds the mare.
Confound the tarnal tallies
That mulct the callow jay!
Confound the sharp that dallies
With Detroit's wealth to-day!
Confound the fate that teaches
The jay to warble low!
But bless the land of peaches
Where the royal suckers grow!
July 9, 1886.
'N PRAISE OF TRUTH AND SIMPLICITY IN SONG
Он, for the honest, blithesome times
Of bosky Sherwood long ago,
When Allen trolled his amorous rhymes
And Robin twanged his crafty bow;
When Little John and Friar Tuck
Traversed the greenwood far and near,
Feasting on many a royal buck
Washed down with brown October beer!
Beside their purling sylvan rills,
What knew these yeomen bold and free
Of envious cares and grewsome ills
That now, sweet friend, vex you and me?
Theirs but to roam the leafy glade,
Beshrewing sheriffs, lords, and priests,
To loll supine beneath the shade,
Regaling monarchs with their feasts.
The murrain seize these ribald times
When there is such a lust for gold
That poets fashion all their rhymes,
Like varlet tradesfolk, to be sold!
Not so did Allen when he troll'd
His ballads in that merry glade;
Nay, in those courteous days of old
The minstrel spurned the tricks of trade!
So, joyous friend, when you and I
Sing to the world our chosen theme,
Let's do as do the birds that fly
Careless o'er woodland, wold, and stream:
Sing Nature's song, untouched of art
Sing of the forest, brook, and plain;
And, hearing it, each human heart
Will vibrate with the sweet refrain.
August 16, 1886.
A FOOL, when plagued by fleas by night,
Quoth: "Since these neighbors so despite me
I think I will put out the light
And then they cannot see to bite me!"
ON HER X BIRTHDAY
Belle semper eadem
TIME, by Julia's face enchanted,
Made with Love a bargain rare;
These the terms that Eros granted
In the interest of his fair:
When old Chronos, in his yearly
Round, must visit beauty's queen,
Love should turn the glass, while idly
Time would bask beneath her een-
Julia being then sweet 'steen.
Cupid, cunning rogue, delighted
At the chance to cheat his foe,
Bound the pact with kisses plighted-
This was several years ago.
Of the scheme no doubt that you'll u-
Nite in saying: "Well we ween
'Gainst the charms of Ladye Julia
Love's but time in quarantine-
Julia 'll always be sweet 'steen!"
Since, in all the white Decembers,
For this day doth Chronos yearn;
Love sets the glass, then straight remembers
Back the dial's hand to turn.
So old Tempus, edax rerum,
May not mar the peerless sheen
Of her beauty. Dixi verum.
This is why I envy . .
Julia's always lovely 'steen!
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