Chapter I: Part 1

BY THE SEA AND OTHER VERSES

_By_ _H. Lavinia Baily_

BOSTON RICHARD G. BADGER The Gorham Press 1907

_Copyright 1907 by H. Lavinia Baily_

_All Rights Reserved_

_The Gorham Press, Boston_

CONTENTS

Myself and You 7

By the Sea 8

At the Close of the Year 14

Risen 16

Elizabeth Crowned 18

Who is Sufficient 19

Peace 21

Boys and Girls 22

A Smile 23

A Sparrow Alone on the Housetop 24

To Mother 24

Psalm CXXI 25

To R. T. B. 26

On New Year, 1897 27

To Anna 27

A Song of Tens 28

Jessica 29

Transition 29

To A. H. B. 30

To Winnie 31

A Life Work 32

Visions 32

Be Ye also Ready 39

Mimosa 40

At the Crisis 41

On the Death of Dr. James E. Rhoads 42

Eternal Youth 43

Building Time 44

Sunrise 45

Neal Dow 47

"Paradise will Pay for All" 48

Forgiveness 49

A Lost Song? 51

A New Earth 52

Recall 53

Philistia's Triumph 54

The White Ribbon Army 55

Christmas 57

"A Day in June" 57

To-day 59

Losing Victories 59

Not Mine 61

In the Desert 61

A Phantom in the "Circle" 62

A Valentine 66

A Convention Hymn 66

A Collection Song 67

The Ballad of the Boundary Line 68

Margaret Lee 71

Soaring Upward 74

The End of the Road 75

BY THE SEA

_AND OTHER VERSES_

MYSELF AND YOU

There are only myself and you in the world,
There are only myself and you;
'Tis clear, then, that I unto you should be kind,
And that you unto me should be true.

And if I unto you could be always kind,
And you unto me could be true,
Then the criminal courts might all be adjourned,
And the sword would have nothing to do.

A few fertile acres are all that I need,--
Not more than a hundred or two,--
And the great, wide earth holds enough, I am sure,
Enough for myself and for you.

The sweet air of heaven is free to us all;
Upon all fall the rain and the dew;
And the glorious sun in his cycle of light
Shines alike on myself and on you.

The infinite love is as broad as the sky,
And as deep as the ocean's blue,
We may breathe it, bathe in it, live in it, aye,
It is _life_ for myself and for you.

And the Christ who came when the angels sang
Will come, if the song we renew,
And reign in his kingdom,--the Prince of Peace,--
Reigning over myself and you.

O, then, may I be unto you always kind,
And be you unto me always true;
So the land may rest from its turmoil and strife,
And the sword may have nothing to do.

BY THE SEA

AN ARGUMENT FOR PEACE

"You do but dream; the world will never see
Such time as this you picture, when the sword
Shall lie inglorious in its sheath, and be
No more of valorous deeds incentive or reward."

The ocean breezes fanned them where they sat,
At leisure from life's conflict, toil and care,
Yet not unthoughtful, nor unmindful that
In all its weal and woe they held their share.

The rose-light charm and pride of earliest youth
A chastening touch had toned to lovelier hue,
And the white soul of purity and truth
Looked out alike from eyes of brown and blue.

"I covet your fair hope," he spake again,
"I cannot share it; all the hoary past
Denies that mightier prowess of the pen
The poet claims, and proves it still surpassed

"By sword and musket and the arts of war.
And 'twere not so,--the query will return,
Albeit such conflict we must all abhor--
How should the fires of patriotism burn?

"Their flames are kindled by the flash of arms,
And fed by recount of heroic deed;
The sanguinary story has its charms
Tho the heart sicken o'er it as we read.

"And what were Greece without her Marathon? Or Rome, had not her Caesars fought and won? How reigns Britannia, Empress near and far, But for her Waterloo and Trafalgar?

"And we, know not our souls a quickening thrill At thought of Lexington and Bunker Hill? And with a pride no rival passion mars Greet we not now our glorious Stripes and Stars?

"Yes, friend, I own your theory is fine; I grant your outlook far exceedeth mine In excellence and beauty, in its scope Embracing that millennial age of bliss The spirit pants for while it chafes in this; I covet, tho I cannot share, your hope."

"My hope," she answered, smiling, "is a faith; The kingdoms of this world are yet to be The kingdoms of our blessed Lord, the Christ;-- Lord of all life thro' dire and vengeful death-- Wrought thro' such sacrifice, unspared, unpriced, His word and purpose must fulfilment see, And realms by mountains bounded or by seas Must own allegiance to the Prince of Peace.

"I yield to none"--and as she spoke there sped
Across the opal beauty of the sea
A light-winged vessel, bearing at its head
The starry emblem of the brave and free--

"I yield to none in loyalty and love
For yon bright banner, but I hold it still
As token to the world, all else above,
Of peace on earth and unto man good will.

"God gave His land to be the home of man;
And all that brightens and upbuilds the home
Uplifts humanity; tramp, tribe and clan,
Knowing no hearthstone, are content to roam,

"But drawing nearer God the man returns
And rears his household altar. In some quest
The feet may wander, but the heart still yearns
For the soft home-light and the quiet rest.

"Think yet again, good brother, is it not From off such altar, whether it may glow In princely palace or in lowliest cot, That the true flame of country-love must flow? While that enkindled by the flash of arms Is a 'strange fire,' consuming while it charms.

"Lives Greece less nobly in her Parthenon,
In what her Solons wrote, her poets sang,
Than in the gastly pride of Marathon,
And kindred fields where victors' praises rang?

"And we, enriched thro' Commerce, Letters, Art,
Forgot our earlier grievances and scars,
Are we not ready for a better part?
Have we not now outgrown our need of wars?

"Surely it should be so," he made reply;
"The sated earth cries out against the flow
Of human blood: 'How long? how long?' The cry
Must pierce the heavens from writhing hearts below.

"But men heed not; the glamor and the gain Of warfare blind them to its sin and pain; They know not pity and they count not cost Till armies meet and life and cause are lost.

"Would they but listen 'twere an errand blest To plead against oppressor for oppressed; Would they but follow it were joy indeed Up the white hills of truth and peace to lead.

"But, ah! the multitudes are gone astray, The powerful of the earth will have their way; What profit, sister, in our prayers and tears? Why mar the spring-time gladness of our years

"In vain pursuit of universal good? In fruitless care for earth's vast brotherhood? Glad would I grasp such work could I but see. Or near, or far, your hoped-for victory."

"Whether they hear," she answered, "or forbear,
'Tis ours with signal truths to light the skies;
God's promises and warnings to declare;--
How can men follow if no leader rise?

"The Christ shall be the victor; O my friend,
Why do we limit His almighty power
Who sees from far beginning to the end?
Whose day may be an ├Žon or an hour?

"The sea is His; He made it; and His word
Can speak its wildest tumult into calm;
As He may will its deepest founts are stirred,
Or surface-ripples breathe a praiseful psalm.

"As well His power the rise and fall doth sway
Of human passion, tho He suffer long;
The puny pride of man shall yet obey
The mandate of the Only Wise and Strong.

"But God would have the children of His grace
In this great reclamation have a share;
And each in his appointed hour and place
Must stand, or other brow his crown will wear."

She paused, and o'er them, as with magic spell, For a brief space a holy silence fell; Then while the sunset crimson of the sky Set ocean all a-blush, he made reply:

"Reason and candor justify your claim;
The Infinite is infinite in all;
The Power that touches into life that flame
Holds earth and heaven subject to His call,
And at His fiat peoples rise and fall.

"Your dauntless zeal doth shame my coward heart; Your word of faith my courage doth inspire; I see 'tis only noble to have part In moral contest; not to fan the fire Of a false glory, which must ever feed On souls that perish, and on hearts that bleed.

"And this I gather from your earnest plea;-- That souls which walk in light and see the way To heights of truth yet unattained, must be Fore-runners for their Lord, must work and pray For the incoming of the perfect day.

"Join we in this sweet service; cherish still
The trust that gives you courage for the fight;
Your 'peaceful war' on all that's base and ill,
Your patient battle for the pure, the right.
Let us press on and mount the hills of light."

The ocean murmur fell upon their ears
Sweeter than bird-song or the voice of mirth,
As beamed her answering smile, thro' grateful tears,
While her lips whispered only "Peace on earth."

"Peace! peace!"--the evening zephyrs caught the strain,
The wavelets sent the word across the sea;
Exultant Nature trilled the glad refrain;--
"Peace! peace! The Christ is come, and peace shall be!"

AT THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR

Neighbor, neighbor, prithee stay; Wherefore hasten on thy way? Give a moment's heed to me, I would ask a thing of thee.

Neighbor, days and months have fled, Seasons one by one have sped, And to-night I greet thee here At the passing of the year.

'Tis the time of reckoning now, Of new resolves and annual vow; Time of straightening ugly crooks, And careful balancing of books.

Pardon if I now demand How accounts of thine may stand; Hast thou rendered, fair and true, Unto every man his due?

Hast thou given timely heed To thy poorer brother's need? Hath thy strong arm been a stay To the weaker on the way?

When didst thou a joy impart To thy sister, sad at heart! When didst thou her grief beguile With the sunshine of thy smile?

When the heavy-laden came Didst thou breathe a Saviour's name? When temptations fierce did prove Didst thou whisper of His love?

When hosts of evil have assailed, And against the right prevailed, Hast thou still undaunted stood Pleading for the pure and good?

When--but neighbor, this is strange! While I question comes a change: All that I have asked of thee Comes for answer back to me.

Comes, against my wish and will, Comes and sets my heart a-thrill; Comes with terrors of the law, Filling me with fear and awe.

Strange transition! Can it mean?-- The marvel of this shifting scene-- Yes, I read the mystery now. Neighbor, mine own soul art thou.

Now, my soul, 'tis thine to say How the record stands to-day Give account of loss or gain, Talent used or spent in vain.

All unwitting how they sped I my listed queries read; Raised the duty-standard high, Challenged measurement thereby.

While I queried came a change, Silent, solemn, passing strange;-- Neighbor glided into mist, Soul and self were keeping tryst.

And the queries come anew: Soul of mine, be brave and true; Lo! _our_ books we balance now; I have questioned; answer thou.

RISEN

"He is risen; He is risen,
Here His empty tomb you see;
And He goeth as He told you
To the hills of Galilee."
Thus to loving, loyal women,
In the centuries agone,
Angel voices told the story
Of the resurrection morn.

He is risen! He is risen! Years hand down the glad refrain; Let the ages on to ages Waft the tidings yet again. He who near the Bethlehem manger Lowly child of earth was born, King of kings reigns all triumphant Since the resurrection morn.

Christ is risen! Calvary's anguish
All a lost world's ransom paid;
Then, with tears, "the hope of Israel"
In the new-made tomb was laid.

Deep and dark the desolation
Falling with that night forlorn;
Radiant the dawn awakening
With the resurrection morn.

He has risen! By this token
We with Him shall rise again;
Faith shall vanquish doubt and terror,
Joy shall banish grief and pain.
No more fear of sin's temptation,
No more dread of hatred's scorn,
O the glory purchased for us
On the resurrection morn!

Christ is risen! Bow before Him, To His courts an offering bring; Suffering Lord and Lamb victorious, Crown Him Conquerer, Priest and King. Robe of light for robe of mocking, Diadem for crown of thorn, Wears He now, and in His likeness Rise we, satisfied, immortal, In the resurrection morn.

ELIZABETH CROWNED

Elizabeth of Hungary, a widow at the age of twenty, was sought in marriage by Frederick II., Emperor of Germany. She, having taken a vow never to marry again, declined his offer, and devoted her life to deeds of kindness and charity. She died at the age of twenty-four, and was canonized as a saint by Gregory IX. At this ceremony Frederick placed upon her head a golden crown, saying, "Since thou wouldst not be crowned as my Empress, I crown thee to-day as an immortal Queen in the kingdom of God."

When once I saw thee, fair, yet sad and lone,-- Tho wealth and beauty waited at thy hand-- I would have crowned thee, saintly one, mine own; Glad would have had thee share with me my throne, Bride of my heart, and Empress of my land!

But thou wert wedded to thy valiant dead, And to the service of a Christ-like love; So by thy hand the suffering poor were led, And from thy bounty were the hungry fed, Till came thy summons to the Court Above.

Now hast thou passed from tears and pain away, Thine ear hath caught the heavenly melodies;-- So be it mine, with reverent touch, to-day, On thy fair head this diadem to lay, And crown thee Queen immortal for the skies!

WHO IS SUFFICIENT?

Six-and-thirty little mortals
Coming to be taught;
And mine that most "delightful task
To rear the tender thought."
Merry, mischief-loving children,
Thoughtless, glad and gay,
Loving lessons--"just a little,"
Dearly loving play.

Six-and-thirty souls immortal,
Coming to be fed;
Needing "food convenient for them,"
As their daily bread.
Bright and happy little children,
Innocent and free,
Coming here their life-long lessons
Now to learn of me.

Listen to the toilsome routine,
List, and answer them,
For these things who is sufficient
'Mong the sons of men?
Now they, at the well-known summons,
Cease their busy hum;
And, some with pleasure, some reluctant,
To the school-room come.

Comes a cunning little urchin
With defiant eye,
"Making music" with his marbles
As he passes by.
But, alas! the pretty toys are
Taken from him soon,
And the music-loving Willie
Strikes another tune!

Comes a lisping little beauty,
Scarce five summers old;
Baby voice and blue eyes pleading,
"Please, misth, I'm stho cold!"
Little one, the world is chilly,
All too cold for thee;
From its storms "Our Father" shield thee,
And thy refuge be.

While I turn to caution Johnny
Not to make such noise;
Mary parses: "Earth's an adverb,
In the passive voice."
Well, indeed, it must be passive,
Else it is not clear
How such open language-murder,
Goes unpunished here.

"Second Reader Class" reciting--
"Lesson verse or prose?"
None in all the class is certain;
Each one thinks he knows.
"Well," is queried then, "the difference
Who can now define?"
Answers Rob: "In verse they never
Finish out the line!"

Boy, thy thought doth strangely thrill me,
And as hours roll on,
Hears my heart a solemn query:
Is my day's work done?
Do I make of this my life-task
Prose or idle rhyme?
Do I in the sight of Heaven
Finish out the line?

Oh, it is "too fine a knowledge"
For our mortal sight,
All these restless little creatures
How to lead aright.
He who prayeth while he worketh,
Taking lessons still
Of the Friend of little children,
Learning all His will;

He alone can walk before them
Worthily and well;
He alone of life's strange language
Can the meaning tell.
May I then with heart as tender
As a little child
Lead my flock; and Father, keep them
Pure and undefiled.

PEACE

O blessed peace, that floweth like a river,
Unstayed, unwearied, ever on and on;
That hath its fount and spring in Christ the giver,
And finds its ocean round the great white Throne.

O peace of God, that passeth understanding,
Thou art the answer to my soul's long quest;
Doubts, fears and sins, their serried hosts disbanding,
I leave, launch on thy wave, and anchored, rest.

BOYS AND GIRLS

We were "seven in all," as the dear rustic maid To the poet so sweetly protested; And together we rambled and studied and played, Each imbibing a share of the sunshine and shade Wherewith our young life was invested.

And black eyes and blue eyes and brown eyes and gray Looked up to the face of our mother, As she led us in study in labor or play, Or told of "Our Father," and taught us to pray, And to cherish and love one another.

O, the rapture of being when life is a-tune With the song-life and beauty of morning; When the roseate dawn brightens into the noon, And the year hastens on to the splendor of June, In her fragrance and matchless adorning.

So our years flitted by and the youngest of all-- Our dark-eyed and fun-loving brother-- Was grown to be manly and lithesome and tall, And to couteous titles we answered the call, But were still "boys" and "girls" to each other.

O, the joy of endeavor, endurance and toil On thro' summer-time vigor and sweetness, Of triumph o'er that which would hinder or foil, Of the patience of hope after tears and turmoil, In the glory of autumn's completeness.

And the toil and the turmoil and tears have been ours-- From our ranks we have missed a loved brother We've encountered the thorns, but we've cherished the flowers; We've passed under the clouds on to sunnier hours, And we're still "boys" and "girls" to each other.

A SMILE

The gliding of a fairy form
And rosy lips that knew no guile,
With wonder parted, came to ask,
"Papa, what is a smile?"

A smile, whate'er it is, then stole
That gentle parent's features o'er;
For ne'er to him had been proposed
Query so strange before.

But while he pondered in his heart
How he should to his child reply,
A new, triumphant joy lit up
Her loving, lustrous eye;--

And with this gladsome, new-found thought,
She answered in her own behalf:
"Oh, now, I know; a smile must be
_The whisper to a laugh!_"

"A SPARROW ALONE ON THE HOUSETOP"

Sing, little sparrow, sing thy song. No peril neareth thee; Tho night be dark or day be long, Or clouds hang low, sing on, sing on, The dear God heareth thee.

Sing, little bird, whate'er befall-- Trill out thine utmost need; Thou canst not soar, thou canst not fall But He will note who knoweth all, And He thy plaint will heed.

O little sparrow, far and high Thy soft notes God-ward go, And I with thee send up my cry, And both shall somewhere find reply, _God careth for us so._

TO MOTHER

O mother, from thy home beyond the stars Hast thou not known the yearning of thy child For thy sweet love? Hast thou not heard her wild And piteous moaning for thy soft caress? Felt her heart's aching for the tenderness And the low patience of thy loving voice? Hast thou not seen her 'mid life's toils and jars, Pant as a bird behind its prison bars, For freedom to fly forth and be with thee? And canst thou not, sweet mother, send reply? Oh, thro' the depths of glory, thro' the sky, Look for one moment down and say to me That all of loss on earth thou findest to be Great gain in heaven; that thou dost rejoice In all that was, and is, and shall betide At last to all; and that, in Him who died, Yet liveth evermore, I, too, shall see All discord blended into harmony; And that I, too, shall be, as thou art, satisfied.

PSALM CXXI

INSCRIBED TO MY SISTER, R. S. B.

Lift up thine eyes unto the hills;
A pure and fragrant breath
Is wafted from their purple tops,--
The Heaven-sent breath of _Faith_.

Lift up thine eyes unto the hills; Beyond their shadowy slope The Sun of Righteousness doth rise In roseate dawn of _Hope_.

Lift up thine eyes unto the hills;
Around, below, above,
The holy sky is all aglow
With the warm light of _Love_.

Lift up thine eyes unto the hills;--
Faith, Hope and Love are given
To point from fading joys of earth,
To endless joy of Heaven.

TO R. T. B.

ON HER MARRIAGE DAY

Sister, we know That God is good, and He hath led us on By pleasant ways or painful to this day. Our lives went on together until now. In childhood and in youth the same fond home Hath been our earthly refuge; the same Rock Our shelter when earth had no rest or shade. At the same fancy we have often smiled, For the same sorrow wept; and oft our souls, In mingling aspirations, have sent up The same thanksgiving, the same burning prayer. Yes, we have lived _together_; we have known The visible blending of the outward life Made real by the holier unison Of loving spirit and aspiring mind. The spells of joy have bound us--and of hope, And tears--which are the diamond links of love-- Have made the chain of our affection strong. It may be thus no more; yet--God is good-- I hush the moaning of my riven heart, And smile that thou art happy; and give thanks That thy sweet life, rejoicing, hath put on Its richest diadem, its crown of love. May the kind Father grant that crown to be All worthy of the wearer; may His smile Lend brightness to it ever; and at last, When it is laid with earthly robes away, O may the infinite and eternal Love Rest like a glory on thy radiant brow.

ON NEW YEAR, 1897

TO G. D. AND S. F. B.

God bless you thro' this bright new year,
The first you spend together;
Give peace and trust thro' cloudy days,
Joy in its sunny weather.

And may the days as days go by,
Still richer seem and sweeter,
And passing seasons make your lives
In every good completer.

There are not words to tell the love
In which I could caress you;
Your dear united names I breathe,
And once more pray, God bless you.

TO ANNA

ON HER SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY

Sixteen! and life to thee looks bright and fair;-- A book unread, rose-tinted, golden edged, Encased in binding curious, costly, rare;-- And all the years to be thou holdest pledged To give thee from its pages, day by day, Readings to cheer and bless the blithesome way.

And life is such a volume, only thou, From garnered storage of the heart and mind, Must fill unwritten pages, and allow Fair pictures--of pure thought, of self resigned, Of kindly deeds--each new-made page to grace;-- How blest if none thou, later, woulds't efface!

Sixteen! A May-day in the path of life, A marvelous puzzle on the finger twirled; Sixteen again; a stir of earnest strife And toil and tumult in a restless world; Repeated still,--a patient, steadfast hold On good attained,--ripe fruit, and grain of gold.

Sixteen once more! Serene in shade or sun, A brighter outlook now; existence grand! Content in hopes fulfilled, in victories won, Mingling with holier yearnings for that land, Whose o'er-flown radiance and whose surplus bliss Have been the glory and the joy of this.

A SONG OF TENS

TO MARY

At the tenth birthday all the world looks fair; The twentieth scarcely shades it with a care; At the third decade life soars grand and high; But with the fourth its heyday passes by.

The fifth comes on,--a century's half is told; The sixth,--our little girl is growing old. Another half-score milestone passed, and then We've reached the allotted three-score years and ten.

Years may be added; should they come to thee May Faith and Wisdom their companion be; Hope thy sure anchor; Peace with thee abide, And Love still be thy light at eventide.

JESSICA

A gentleman once wrote of Elizabeth Fry: "Her name has long been a word of beauty in our household."

Make thy name a word of beauty,
Like the lily pure and fair,
From its perfumed cup exhaling
Sweetest fragrance on the air.

Make thy name a word of beauty
Lustrous as the ocean pearl;
Constant in life's loving service,
Guileless through youth's mazy whirl.

Make thy name a word of beauty,
Radiant, steadfast, like a star;
Shedding from a glowing center
Love's effulgence near and far.

Aye, we greet thee, rare-sweet maiden,
(Make it evermore thy right),
Jessica--our word of beauty,
Lily, pearl, and star of light.

TRANSITION

Out of the blindness and the night Into clear and constant light.

Out of the weariness and pain Into everlasting gain.

Out of the toil and durance hard Into rest and rich reward.

Out of the doubting and distress Into certain blessedness.

Out of the dusty lanes of care Into pastures green and fair.

Out of the glaring desert sun To shades where cooling waters run.

Out of the din of woe and wrong Into choral waves of song

Out of the dwelling, worn and old, Into the city of pearl and gold.

Where now, O Death, where is thy sting? Thou art the summons to the King.

O Grave, where is thy victory? Thou art the gateway to the free!

TO A. H. B.

A "COMMENCEMENT" GREETING

With Portraits of Eminent Authors

Dear Hallam, with this trifling gift
Best wishes now I send thee;
Through all thy future life may joy
And grace and peace attend thee.

May this the bright beginning be
Of days love-crowned and royal;
May griefs and faults and foes be few,
Friends manifold and loyal.

May gems from authors such as these
Store well thy mental coffer,
But for thy heart's enrichment please
Accept the love I offer.

1882

TO WINNIE

ON HER WEDDING DAY

Stars will shine on, tho thou art gone,
But we shall miss the gleaming
Of one bright eye's responsive smile,
And love-light softly beaming.

And flowers will bloom,--but we shall miss
A fragrance and a beauty
That brightened for us here and there
The sombre path of duty.

And friends will greet us on our way,
But we shall miss the sweetness
Of a fair presence that hath made
So much of life's completeness.

And yet 'tis well; we give thee joy,
And pray with this caressing;
That love and peace without alloy
May be thy bridal blessing.

A LIFE WORK

IN MEMORY OF DANIEL HILL

He heard the cry of man enslaved
In bonds and servile toil;
And gave his voice for freedom till
The "Freedman" tilled "free-soil."

He saw his weaker brother reel,
Pierced by Drink's poisoned dart,
And wrought and wrote with fervent zeal
To stay the Tempter's art.

He heard the clash of sword and gun
In deadly battle-strife;
And pleaded till his day was done
For Love's sweet rule in life.

He rests in peace. Who now shall wear
The mantle he let fall?
Who teach as he the Father-love,
The brotherhood of all?

VISIONS

I saw when Israel toiled and groaned beneath the Pharoah's rod, And in his hopeless bondage moaned his helpless prayer to God.

I saw when from the river's brink the infant leader rose, Who, reared in Egypt's royal court, still felt his brothers' woes.

I heard him at the burning bush his swift excuses bring: "Who, who am I, that I should stand before the Egyptian king?

"And who am I that I should lead the people of thy choice? My warning word they will not heed, nor hearken to my voice.

"And who am I that I should move a monarch to relent? I, but a man, and slow of speech, nor wise, nor eloquent."

I marked the answer: "Plead no more thy vain excuse to me; I am the Lord; my servant thou; my glory thou shalt see.

"I am the Lord; the power is mine; 'tis thine to hear and do; The Lord almighty is to save, by many or by few."

The man of doubt exchanged his fears for faith in God and right, While meek obedience on his brow sat like a crown of light.

The slow of speech grew eloquent, till Israel gladly heard; And bolder waxed the Leader, till the king's hard heart was stirred,

And he in fierce displeasure drove the captives from his land; Not knowing their deliverance was all divinely planned.

Down the long line of two-score years I looked and saw at last, The blissful view from Pisgah's height; the Jordan safely passed;

And heard--as Memnon's harp had caught the sweet enchanting strain, And sent adown the waves of time brave Miriam's glad refrain--

"Sing, for the Lord hath triumphed; sing, great wonders can he do; The Lord is mighty and can save by many or by few."

I saw again, when sin-enslaved, by Jabin's hand oppressed, A people's cry went up to God for rescue and for rest.

Then up rose Deborah, judge and seer, with all her valiant band, And drove the oppressor from her gates, his chariots from her land.

And Jael, wife of Heber, slew his captain with the sword; So woman's hand achieved that day the victory for the Lord.

And woman's voice extolled in song the great Deliverer's name:-- "Praise God! He hath avenged His own, for willingly they came.

"The mountains melt before His face, the tribes their strength renew; The Lord is mighty and doth save by many or by few."

I saw when Gideon led his band down to the water's bank To prove and set them in array, as man by man they drank,

And with the handful chosen thus went forth against the foe, And vanquished all the Midian host, and laid their princes low.

Not with the thousands called from far, who pitched by Harod's well; Nor yet the undismayed who stood when the faint-hearted fell;

But "Now, with these three hundred men, go forward," said the Lord; "Do thou thy part, let them do theirs, trust, and obey my word."

Their torches flashed like dancing flames, their trumpets loudly blew; Strange warfare! but the Lord can save by many or by few.

Once more I saw when Israel quailed before Philistia's pride; While great Goliath, day by day, Jehovah's power defied.

The weak and timid fled away, the valiant shrank with fear;-- 'Twas threatened death or dire defeat, and life and fame are dear.

Even Saul, their chosen king, forgot (admiring Israel's boast!) That he stood head and shoulders high above his martial host.

"And are there none," he cried, "who dare to meet this vaunting foe? And must the banner of our God trail in dishonor low?"

Then forth there came a ruddy youth: "That banner I'll defend; Be it not said our God hath none on whom He may depend.

"Let no heart fail to-day because of this Philistine's boast; The battle is the Lord's and He will vanquish this proud host."

Then spake he to the giant foe: "A loyal servant I Of Israel's God, whose holy name thou darest to defy.

"In that dread name I charge thee stand, and shield thee as thou may; The fowls of air, the beasts of earth shall feast on thee to-day."

'Twas but a pebble from the brook, sent by a loyal will; But sword and spear not mightier were God's purpose to fulfil.

For one may chase a thousand, and ten thousand flee from two; The God of right is strong to save by many or by few.

* * * * *

Years, ages pass and now I see a land beloved and fair; And lo! a cruel enemy hath gained possession there.

The riches of this goodly land into his coffers pour; Insatiate and unscrupulous, his constant cry is "More!"

"More money clinking in my till, more men--my licensed prey; More _boys_ to feed my traffic when these men have passed away."

Thus man is robbed of purse and soul, home of its peace and joy; The wife of husband is bereft, the mother of her boy.

The land doth mourn. On every side the spoiler hath his way; No past oppression hath surpassed this vision of to-day.

And who, like Moses, will exchange his self-distrust and fear For faith to meet the encroaching foe and check his bold career?

And who, like Deborah, will arise and lead a valiant band To drive the Tyrant from her gates, the Traffic from her land?

Who will, like Gideon and his men, the light of truth dare throw On darkest evil, and the trump of coming victory blow?

Or who, like David, will come forth in God's great name, alone, And lay the boastful giant low, as once with sling and stone?

When Avarice and unholy Pride against the good contend, The battle is the Lord's and He His people will defend.

The great Red Sea of wrong, while He doth pass, shall stand aside; Mountains shall bow before Him, and proud Jordan's waves divide.

Each epoch hath its burning bush, and each its palm-tree shade; And each its oak of Ophrah, where the pledge of peace is made.

And each its fold, where kingly soul in shepherd guise is found; And when the Master calleth there the place is "holy ground."

Holy the place; but whose the hour? perchance He calleth _thee_, Or _thee_; who, who will answer now, "Lord, here am I; send me?"

O, for the love of land and home, make answer brave and true; Our God is mighty still to save, by many or by few.

BE YE ALSO READY

Let us be still before Him. Yet once more That voice hath spoken to our startled souls Which fell in solemn cadence on the ear Of the hushed listeners on Mt. Olive's hill: "At eventide, at midnight, or at morn, The Son of Man shall come, shall surely come; Be ready, for ye may not know the hour." And if at eventide, when Nature folds Her toil-spent hands and sinks into repose; Or if at midnight hour of gloom Thou come, Or when the morning spreads her wings of light, Oh make us ready for the solemn call. Supply our need, of knowledge, wisdom, grace, Dear Lord, that with confiding joy our souls, Made pure of sin and strong in faith, may go To meet Thee at Thy coming. If the sound Of sweet home-voices follow to the brink Of death's dark river, as they fainter grow, Then let us hear Thy still small voice of love; Say to us, "It is I--be not afraid." Or if the angel of the icy hand Should find us when no human friend is near And summon us away, then as we lose Our hold of earth and fall away from life, O wilt Thou grant our parting spirits may Go out in silence and be found with Thee.

MIMOSA

A modest plant; soft shades of green
In leaflets poised on slender stem;
And all outspread to catch the glow
Of morning sun or dew-drop gem.

But, lo, what change! When finger-tips
But touch the leaflets' fringe, the charm
Of life is gone--Mimosa shrinks,
As conscious of some present harm.

So would I have my soul recoil
From touch of wrong or thought of sin;
So throw its portals wide again,
To let the dew and sunshine in.

AT THE CRISIS

I.--THE STEAMBOAT BELLS

When steamboats approach Mt. Vernon their bells begin to toll, and continue the mournful service until the sacred spot is again left in the distance.

Mt. Vernon's shade sweet vigil keeps Where on her breast her hero sleeps; O passing bells, soft be your tone, Toll gently for our Washington.

Toll, the great Warrior's strife is o'er; Toll, for the Statesman pleads no more; Toll--for a Man is fallen--on, Peal out your dirge for Washington.

Toll for a people's wounded heart, Toll for a bleeding Nation's smart, Toll for a World!--toll sadly on-- The world hath lost a Washington.

Ring out your wailing on the air, And let it be a voice of prayer; He whom we greatly need is gone;-- God give another Washington.

1863

Thus while she listened to the mournful knell
That woke sad echoes on Potomac's shore;
Saw how from Sumter's height her banner fell,
And heard, not distant far, loud battle's roar;--

Thus, while she heard the impatient bondman's moan,
Knew her own power defied, her trust betrayed;
While Treason rose to hurl her from her throne--
The Spirit of the Union mused and prayed.

II.--THE EMANCIPATOR

God gave another; while we stood Aghast before the coming flood Of war, and its attending woes, The one for whom she prayed arose.

Blinded and deaf, we knew him not; Yet saw him wipe out slavery's blot; Heard him proclaim his people free, From lake to gulf, from sea to sea.

Saw this and heard, but deaf and blind, We failed to recognize the Mind, Which, going on from strength to strength, From grace to grace, had grown at length,

Thro the stern lessons of the hour, Of danger, censure, praise and power, To be the Man among us, one, Whom now we hail, since he is gone, Lincoln, our more than Washington.

1866

ON THE DEATH OF DR. JAMES E. RHOADS

Fallen? No; his part was finished
In the earthly toil and strife;
He hath but lain his armor by,
And entered into life.

Silent? No; tho' hushed forever
Tones that did like music thrill,
Through example, helpful, holy,
Lo, he speaketh still.

Vanished? Lost to those that loved him?
No; his spirit lingering near
Still doth woo them, onward, upward,
Whispering, "Be of cheer."

Crowned? Aye, crowned in earth and heaven;
Here with laurels fairly won;
There with star-lit diadem,
Inscribed "Well done! well done!"

ETERNAL YOUTH

Looking in thine eyes of azure,
Looking on thy hair of gold,
Once I wished, Evangelina,
That there were no growing old.

For I thought of how thy sweet eyes
Would grow dim with tears and care;
How the years would turn to silver
All thy wealth of golden hair.

How the lines of life would gather
O'er the face so placid now;
Traces of its toil and struggle
Touching lip and cheek and brow.

This I thought, and wished the shadows
Might not lengthen o'er thy way;
Wished there were no time but spring-time,
Were no evening of the day.

Now I fear, Evangelina,
That my wish was half a prayer,
That the listening Father heard me,
That thou liest, an answer, there.

For thou liest in thy beauty,--
Eyes of blue and hair of gold,
Lip and cheek and brow of marble,
Folded fingers, still and cold;--
O my angel, God hath called thee
Where there is no growing old.

BUILDING TIME

The time of the singing of birds is come;
'Tis the happiest time of the year:
They are saying, "Let's build us our summer home,
For the frost-king no longer we fear."

The time of the singing of birds is come,
And the time of their building, too;
With a feather, a straw and a stray bit of gum
They will shew what bird-builders can do.

The time of the singing of birds is come:
I was eaves-dropping under the trees;
And as I translated the twitter and hum,
I thought the words sounded like these:

"Twirr-a-whirr, twirr-a-whirr,
The young leaves are astir;
We will make us a nest snug and warm
On this apple-tree bough--
We are at it e'en now--
All secure from intruders and storm.

"'Tis for home, 'tis for love,
'Tis for heaven above,
And our roof is the clear azure sky;
The foundations we lay
In this rough straw and clay,
But we'll line it with moss by and by."

The time of the singing of birds is here,
And if under the apple-tree bough
Orlando and May would a domicile rear,
Let them hear what the birds tell them now:

"Build for home, build for love,
Build for heaven above,
Build with music and cheer like the birds;
And if palace or cot,
Built of marble or what,
Line your nest with the moss of kind words,"

SUNRISE

The incident here narrated occurred some years ago at the Media Training School for Feeble-Minded Children, then in care of Dr. I. N. Kerlin.

A feeble, idiot boy, he stood
Where Nature in her beauty grew,
And over field and flowering wood
Her summer mantle lightly threw.

The scene had met his eye before;
The pleasant path he oft had trod;
And one who sought in simple lore
To teach him things of heaven and God

Had often wandered with him there,
And pointed out each lovely spot,--
The sunlit cloud--the floweret fair--
But still he comprehended not.

For all his soul was void and still,
And darkness held his mind in thrall;
He recognized no Sovereign Will,
Nor saw the hand of God in all.

In Nature's presence now alone
He stood, and filled with silent awe,
Beheld, before the coming sun,
The curtained Night in haste withdraw.

And gazing there with vacant eye,
All motionless and mute he waits,
When lo! the chariot of the sky
Rolls through the morning's crimson gates.

The orient beams with beauteous light--
Hath not his soul its radiance caught?
His being grasps a new delight;
A deep, mysterious change is wrought.

A light is kindled in his breast;
A temple-veil at length is riven;
And in that hour of strange unrest
A thought is born--of God in heaven.

In haste he seeks his tutor's side,
For he who "bore in grief a part"
Will, in this happy hour of pride,
Responsive hail his joy of heart.

The glowing cheek, the flashing eye,
The parted lips--_not voiceless now_--
And, caught from that resplendent sky,
The marvelous light upon his brow,--

While these, ere yet he speaks, attest
The rapture which that thought has given;
He lifts his finger toward the east
And softly whispers, "_God, in Heaven!_"

O blessed hour! and happy he
To whom, thro patient love 'twas given
To set a fettered spirit free,
And wake a hope of God in Heaven

NEAL DOW

WRITTEN FOR A MEMORIAL DAY SERVICE

A Soul was stirred as one thro' blinding tears
Rehearsed a tale of want and cruel wrong;
Keen indignation banished doubts and fears;
The purpose of imperial youth grew strong.

A Voice was heard: "Alas! that on the side
Of sin and mad oppression there is power,
But we will change all this, if God so aid":--
And Maine's new freedom dated from that hour.

A Life was given; fraught with noble deeds;--
Aflame with words of truth, and tireless zeal,
And boldness for the right that gave no heed
To threatening hate, or sycophant's appeal.

But men decried the fervor of that Soul,
And would have hushed the Voice that pleaded still
Against the oppressors' power, and such control
As brought _them_ gain, all others loss and ill.

And men denounced that Life; and where it came
Ofttimes their scoffings tainted the sweet air,
As with malicious scorn they hailed a name
That calumny itself left clean and fair.

And now that Soul hath entered into rest;
That Voice is silent, and that peerless Life
Hath crossed the threshold where the good and blest
Enter, and cease from sorrow, toil and strife.

O Life and Voice and Soul! O princely one!
Our loyal hearts send greeting to thee now;
Thy name has lighted near a century gone,--
'Twill brighten ages yet to come, Neal Dow.

"PARADISE WILL PAY FOR ALL"

LAST WORDS OF SAMUEL A. PURDIE

From the charm of idle pleasure,
From Ambition's siren song,
From the rush for earthly treasure
Of the busy, careless throng;
In the dawn of life's fair morning
He had heard the Master's call;
"Yea, I come," his heart made answer,
"Paradise will pay for all."

On through years of toil and struggle
Walked he, faithful to his word;
Blameless life and kind entreaty
Leading many to the Lord.
Meeting dangers, bearing burdens
Well might stoutest heart appal;
But to every doubt replying,
"Paradise will pay for all."

Now at eve, toil-spent and weary,
Pierced with pain the pilgrim lay;
Watching still with faith triumphant
For the dawn of brighter day.
Then upon his ear there falleth
Once again the Master's call:
"Come up higher." "Yea," he answers,
"Paradise will pay for all."

FORGIVENESS

Father in Heaven, I thank Thee for this hour, This blessed hour wherein my contrite soul Humbled and happy bows itself to Thee, Pleading that all its error and its sin May be forgiven--even as I forgive.

The cruel wrong swept o'er me like a flood; And my hurt soul in fierce defiance rose, And all forgetful that itself could sin Heaped heavy hatred on the offender's head. There came a calmer hour in which I saw The strong temptation that had moved him thus To barter all his better life away-- Love, honor, principle--to gain the world. And seeing this I learned to pity him. For well I knew the bauble he had won Would only mock him with its faithless glare; And well I knew the golden fruit he grasped Would be but dust and ashes in his hand; And knowing this I learned to pity him. And as my pity grew it turned to prayer-- That when the glitter of the gold was gone, And the sweet fruit was bitter to his taste; When the sad memory of the slighted past Came, and made deeper still the present gloom, The darkness might be lifted, and the Soul, Self-robbed and famishing, might find its way To the green pastures and the springs of life, That in the heart whence love and joy had fled, Whence hope was exiled, there might yet be peace. But suddenly I queried in my heart What power had moved me that I should have prayed For him I counted as my life-long foe. Greatly I marveled what it meant that thus I had called down such blessing upon him-- The kindliest boon of heaven, the peace of God. Deep in my soul there came an answering voice: "O Child, _it is but this--thou hast forgiven_!"

Then thanks, O Father, for this plessed hour, Wherein my soul, by Thine own Spirit taught, Prays with no mockery of words Thy prayer: "Forgive my trespasses, _as I forgive_."

A LOST SONG?

Horror of combat, and tumult and dread;
Thunder of cannon and bursting of bomb;
Moans of the wounded (who envy the dead)
Lost in the clamor of trumpet and drum.
O where is the song of the angels?
O when shall we hear it again?
"Peace on earth," rang the chorus seraphic,
"And good will evermore among men."

Here is fierce anger and hatred and death,
Pitiless slaughter of pitiless foe;
Blessings and curses poured forth in a breath;
Brave self-forgetting, and measureless woe.
But where is the song of the angels?
O when shall we hear it again?
"Peace on earth," rang the chorus seraphic,
"And good will evermore among men."

Blue waves of ocean are reddened with gore,
Victor and victim earth holds to her breast;
Hearts that will thrill with ambition no more;
Heads that so lately fond mothers caressed.
O where is the song of the angels?
O when shall we hear it again?
"Peace on earth," rang the chorus seraphic,
"And good will evermore among men."

Victory, purchased at infinite cost,
Honors and titles so fearfully won,
Fame, at the price of lives blighted and lost,
Graves, all unnoted, unnumbered, unknown.
O where is the song of the angels?
Dear Christ, let us hear it again;
"Peace on earth," send the chorus seraphic,
"Peace on earth, and good will among men."

A NEW EARTH

I have dreamed a sweet dream; I have seen a fair vision;
I have looked the wide universe o'er;
And earth's nations arise in a glory elysian--
They do not learn war any more.

There are music and mirth; there are childhood's sweet voices,
Winsome age lends its placid charm there;
There are laughter and glee as when home-life rejoices
Unshadowed by sorrow or care.

In all noble achievement, all worthy endeavor,
Men in kindly ambition contend;
But the valiant of heart may yet know he hath ever
In his sturdiest foeman a friend.

Nevermore the proud boast or the haughty defiance;--
Without end shall His kingdom increase;
'Tis the day of _all nations in Holy Alliance_,
'Tis the reign of truth, justice, and peace.

Nevermore shall a nation lift sword against nation,
The dominion of Hatred is o'er;
'Tis the triumph of Love, 'tis the dawn of Christ's kingdom,
They shall not learn war any more.

RECALL

Put up thy sword, O Nation, grand and strong!
Call in thy fleet-winged missiles from the sea;
Art thou not great enough to suffer wrong,
Land of the brave, the freest of the free?

Put up thy sword. 'Tis nobler to endure
Than to avenge thee at another's cost;
And while thy claim and purpose are made sure,
Behold that other's life and honor lost.

Put up thy sword. It hath not hushed the cry
That called it all too rashly from its sheath;
Still o'er the fated isle her children lie
And find surcease from anguish but in death.

Put up thy sword, O Country, strong and free,
Let strife and avarice and oppression cease;
So shall the world thy Star of Empire see
Resplendent o'er the heaven-touched hills of Peace.

PHILISTIA'S TRIUMPH

1 Samuel 4: 10, 11; 7: 3.

(WRITTEN ON THE DEFEAT OF THE PROHIBITION AMENDMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA.)

They fought with lances in that ancient day,
With sword and spear and arrow deftly sped.
At eventide the hosts of Israel lay
Vanquished and spoiled, the dying with the dead;
And the Ark of God was taken.

They fought with ballots in our nearer day;
From morn to eve the light-winged missiles flew;
Again Philistia's triumph brought dismay,
And Wrong, victorious, struggling Virtue slew,
And the Ark of God was taken.

O ye to whom the sacred trust was given
To guard the altar and the ark of God,
Have ye been recreant to the charge of heaven,
That thus we fall before the avenging rod,
And the Ark of God is taken?

Rouse from your shameful slumbers. Put away
Your strange gods from among you. Turn again;
That in the drawing of some nobler day
The hosts of sin may be rebuked of men,
And the Ark of God re-taken.

THE WHITE RIBBON ARMY

(Air: King Bibbler's Army.)

FOR M. B. T.

In the years, years ago, when the true-hearted women,
Started forth on their errand of prayer,
Many said, "'Tis the cry of the Home for protection";
Many said, "'Tis delusion and snare."
Some said, softly, "God bless you"; some murmured, "Mistaken";
Some the swift shafts of calumny hurled;
But they went bravely forward, a praying procession,
Marching out, out, out in the world.

_Chorus_

Hark! hark! a trembling chorus:
No, no, no, no;
We cannot have Rum ruling o'er us;
No, no, no, no;
And now to save our young men the White-Ribbon Army
Marches on, on, on round the world.

At the head of the host came the silver-haired mothers,
Arm in arm with the daughters so fair;
While the wives for their husbands, the girls for their brothers,
Raise their voices to heaven in prayer.
As their pleadings prevail, and "the worst foe" surrenders,
The white banner of peace is unfurled;
And we now may behold them, a joyful procession,
Marching on, on, on round the world.

_Chorus_

Hark! hark! a swelling chorus:
No, no, no, no;
We cannot have Rum ruling o'er us;
No, no, no, no;
And oh to save our country the White-Ribbon Army
Marches on, on, on round the world.

They have entered the gates of the Empire Celestial,
They have compassed the Isles of the Sea,
And they carry glad tidings of good to all people,
From the land of the brave and the free.
On the peeress of England, on Afric's dark daughter,
Is the white-ribbon emblem now twirled;
And the army moves onward, a dauntless procession,
Marching on, on, on round the world.

_Chorus_

Hark! hark! a ringing chorus:
No, no, no, no;
We cannot have Rum ruling o'er us;
No, no, no, no;
And lo! to save all nations the White-Ribbon Army
Marches on, on, on round the world.

CHRISTMAS