Chapter 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.

Sore, sore it grieved that mother's heart!
When fever's pulse beat high
And reason reeled, the parchèd lips
Gave forth the wailing cry,

"Oh! take me to that far-off land
Where cool sea-breezes blow;
Where wintry sun doth smiling shine
Athwart the pure, white snow.

"Oh! thither wist I to return
Fraught with my mission high,
To bear the standard of the Cross
Beneath my native sky.

"For this my spirit waked to zeal
Where soft the sunlight falls;
For this I craved the higher lore
Of Propaganda's halls."

Then "list the strains of music!
Now loud, now soft and clear;--
It is the voice of wavelets sweet
Which greets my listening ear.

"Brimful of glee, it seems to me,
They ripple o'er the strand,
As when they sang the lullaby
Of our dear, household band.

"Mark how the lustrous, Autumn glow
Illumes the reddening leaves;
The genial harvest-tide is past,
And gathered in, the sheaves.

"Now there--yes! through the waning light
I see the little stile;--
A few steps more--how dark it grows!
Home in Prince Edward Isle."

But as, o'er the calm of evening
Breathed forth the vesper hymn,
The visions of fancy faded,
The clear, blue eyes waxed dim.

The hectic flush evanished
Before cold Pallor's hand;
Ended the warfare, hushed the voice--
Hushed in the silent land.

And the soul of the fair young dreamer
Went up with music's swell;
Whilst Victory's pæans grandly soared
High o'er earth's parting knell.

And though to his home and kindred
He cometh ne'er again,
The memory of his bright young life
The years will aye retain.

And aye, as the festive season falls,
On fair St. Lawrence Bay,
They mourn the student who died in Rome
On that bright Christmas Day.

THE PIONEER.

He sat 'neath the green verandah shade at cool of a sunbright day;
And many a pleasant look he cast to the children at their play.

Though blanched his locks, though stooped his form, his heart no frosts
might sere,
For peacefully the shadows fall, where mind and soul are clear.

At length the noisy mirth is hushed for breathing space of rest,
And gaily round the loved grandsire the merry group hath pressed.

There's gentle Effie, little Will, big Joe and sturdy Ben,
Grandpa's namesake, "who sure will make his mark 'mongst mighty men."

"A story!" and the spectacles are moved from off the face,
And carefully and kindly wiped ere slipped into their case.

"A story! well, it seems to me that all my tales are told;
Both of these nigh, fast fleeting years, and long, long days of old."

Upwafted from the clover field, in fragrance on the wind,
Came breathings from a former hour in freshness to the mind.

"Perchance you have not listed how one stroke from woman's hand
Transformed a forest dense and dim to fair and fruitful land.

"'Twas in a far back settlement, within a dusky wood,
The rude hut of an immigrant on scanty clearance stood.

"Strong hands had reared the rooftree, and sowed the patch of ground,
And bleating from the sheepfold broke the solitude around.

"From rim of rudely builded flue the hazy smoke-wreaths curled,
To wander o'er the mighty vault which guards a sleeping world.

"Out of the widely opened door doth savory flavor steal
As, from gun of clever marksman, is prepared the evening meal.

"Beside the woodpile, which was hauled across last winter's snow,
Sat the owner of the homestead, but his head was bending low.

"He had flung aside his hatchet and tired and care-oppressed,
Sat down to muse and vex his mind, while he gave his body rest.

"His heart yearned o'er the byegone hours, on Scotia's bonny braes,
When he chased among the yellow broom, or plucked the juicy slaes.

"He hears the plashing of the wave upon the sea-beat shore;
He hears his mother's gentle step, as music on the floor.

"He sees the ivy-mantled church on yonder green hill side
Where, in his earlier manhood, he claimed his girlish bride.

"But the past is passed forever, and in its place doth stand
The certain fate of pioneer in our Canadian land.

"A match 'twixt strength of arm and will, of labor tough and keen,
Affording slightest intervals for idleness, I ween,

"And nature in repellant mood; in roughest, homeliest guise;
Of frowning features, fit to thwart the purpose from the prize.

"He conjured up his hardships in this new land of the West,
And reasoned of returning to the land he loved the best.

"But within the cot was wanted fresh fuel for the flame;
Impatient to the woodstack a trim young matron came.

"She steadied with her nimble foot the log late split in twain;
She raised the axe, but action failed; her stroke descends in vain.

"It failed, yet failed not; it had touched one sad, desponding heart,
And nerved his arm and urged him on to act the manlier part.

"Shame mantled o'er his sunbrowned cheek, and tinged his yet fair brow;
The mists fell from his longing eyes; he faced the real now.

"He looked unto the forest with its miles of birch and pine,
Its maple, and its tangled growth through which no sun might shine.

"He looked unto the forest with its giants great and tall;
He looked unto the forest but--God ruleth over all.

* * * * *

"Through years of active industry, through perfect trust in Heaven,
'Yond all the ups and downs of life complete success was given.

"I, for I was that laggard, by that stroke of woman's hand,
Was started on the royal road which needs no wizard wand.

"We planned and worked together--my Effie dear and I,
And quickly o'er our busy life the sunny years went by.

"For denseness of the solemn pine, came cheerful apple bloom;
And gleeful shouts of buoyant hearts outrang the sighs of gloom.

"For screeching owl, and croaking frog, came lowing of the cows,
As the merry bells went jingle, beyond the ample mows.

"Our boys grew up to help us; our boys--their mother's pride;
And ne'er a cloud came o'er our joys until our first-born died.

"A village sprung up near the farm; steam engines whistled by;
And the dusky serpent trailed its fumes along our placid sky.

"Then your father brought a fair young wife, our waning hours to cheer;
Her face was sweet as daffodil, her voice as song-bird's clear.

"But one morn there came a message,--Joe! you remember all;
And grandma heard it cheerfully, and answered to the call.

"My love! who loved me ever, from morn till gloaming grey,
Dear heart! who never murmured o'er the home of early day.

"For though she loved the olden land with love that knew no change,
With fuller life her sympathies found freer, broader range.

"The kind eyes closed, the busy hands were crossed on silent breast;
And reverently her mourning sons conveyed her to her rest.

"Beside her first-born on the hill--and there I hope to lie
When the blessed Lord doth summon me to meet her in the sky."

He looked upon the tasseled corn, the richest crop all round,
Then wistfully he gazed beyond to the now hallowed ground

Where slept his past; he faintly sighed, then bowed his agèd head;--
The children strove to rouse him but--the loved grandsire was dead.

No more he tells of struggle vast, or rest from labour won;
He singeth in the psalms of peace 'neath an unsetting sun.

No more he sees with vision dim; upon that other shore
The Light of Life hath welcomed him to glory evermore.

THE OLDEN FLAG.

Raise high the royal standard!
Shame not thy royal birth;
The prestige of thy might sustain,
Thou noblest of the earth!
Great Canada! thou fair, free land!
A world looks forth to thee;
No alien hand thy hand shall lead;
Thou'lt bow no servile knee.

Then rally round the olden flag!
The loved red, white and blue;
Let traitors scheme, or boasters brag,
To Canada prove true.

Float on, Oh flag of Empire vast!
Long may thy colors wave
O'er many a blood-bought heritage;
O'er many a hero's grave.
The grandeur of thy fame doth light
The fields our fathers won;
The noblest gift which valiant sire
Could e'er bequeath his son.

Droop not, Oh peerless standard!
Oh loyal hearts and true!
Forget not ye the olden land
Though cherishing the new.
Forget not hearts and hopes are one,
From Britain's sea-girt Isles
To where, beyond the Rocky steep,
The broad Pacific smiles.

Wave on, Oh flag of Empire vast!
O'er mountain, rock and stream;
Where wholesome fealty rests secure,
Beneath thy fervent gleam.
For, should the tramp of hostile feet
Arouse our peaceful shore,
Britannia's conquering sword would flash
Through Canada once more.

Then rally round the olden flag!
The loved red, white and blue;
Let traitors scheme, or boasters brag,
To Canada prove true.

IDYLLS OF THE YEAR.

THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW.

THE OLD.

We hailed thy white-robed natal hour,
Rejoiced in dawning Spring;
Now Autumn fruit, and Summer flower
Have passed, and sad we sing

Thy requiem. Oh vanished year!
Thy deeds of shame and wrong,
Thy widows' cry, thy orphans' tear
Well nigh untune my song.

Thine was the fraud, the private cheat,
The mean in purse and thought;
Leal worshippers at Mammon's feet,
Who sold their Heaven for nought.

Thine were those souls that slander hatch,
That tortuous tangles spin;
Who mimic those they fail to match,
And mock at all, save sin.

Thine too, those hideous slaughter-fields
Where, on the sodden plain,
As mind in man to brute force yields,
Lie dead, and deathless slain.

Yet, through that Power who quelled the storm
With mandate "Peace! be still!"
Thy friendships were not all mere form,
Thy doings not all ill.

For earnest hearts, and righteous hands
In thee have gained a prize,
That goal which change and time withstands;
Christ-life the world defies.

Then, blessing Him whose presence flows
Where vision fails to view;
Through summer's heat, and winter's snows,
We bid thee, Year, adieu!

THE NEW.

And turn, with heart of hope, to hail
God's gift, the latest born;
Those promises which never fail
Make glad our New Year's morn.

Before His fiat nature bends,
His verdure clothes the tree;
He grandeur to the mountain lends,
And sways the surging sea.

At His command the torrents pour,
The spring leaps from the rock;
The eaglets from the eyrie soar,
Firm earth sustains a shock.

With power unbounded at His feet
All heaven and earth to move;

Through Calvary's cross, in Him we greet,
'Yond justice, pardoning love.

Though dismal clouds at noontide lower,
What need to grope our way;
Ahead doth stream, from beacon tower,
Light to celestial day.

That Hand which paints the rose's bloom,
Which hung heaven's canopy,
Doth point to where, 'yond present gloom,
Unblemished landscapes be.

That Heart, responsive to the cry
Of man, and bird, and beast;
Bids teeming earth, in prompt reply,
Spread out perpetual feast.

Then, sigh not o'er the buried year,
Nor mourn, in low-set voice;
Young Life sings forth in accents clear;
In her sweet joy rejoice.

SPRING.

The fiat hath gone forth;
From Winter's nerveless grasp
The frozen chains unclasp;
King Freedom rules our North.

From out his long repose
Fair Ocean sings again;
Low wail, or sweet refrain
In every breeze that blows.

See! from the listening hills
The whitened mantle glides;
Whilst 'gulfed in full spring-tides
Are lost the murmuring rills.

Ring out ye woodland notes!
Trill through the brightening blue;
Loud swell the anthem new,
Which nature heavenward floats.

For zephyr fannèd river,
For gently swaying trees,
Voice, in each passing breeze,
The praise of life's Great Giver.

Now firelight's lurid gleam
Gives place to greening slope;
Where youth, miraged of hope,
Sees roseate vistas beam.

Hails in each star of eve,
Each lustrous, lengthening day

Of joyous roundelay,
A world where none may grieve.

Blessed morning of the year!
Lone sickness greets the voice
Which waketh to rejoice,
From high to lowliest sphere.

The tiller of the soil
Goes forth in purpose strong;
For Spring's exultant song
Wreathes round the head of toil.

Earth! nurture well the seed;
Sun! gild the swelling grain;
Heaven! sap the thirsty plain;
Till plenty answers need.

Breathe out, Oh genial Spring!
Thy teachings over all;
Till, manna-like, shall fall,
Soft peace where tumults ring.

Then shall the wondrous story
On nature's vivid page
Gleam, till millennial age
Doth flood the world with glory.

SUMMER.

Hail Summer! glad Summer! thou Queen of the year!
Hail fragrance and beauty encircling thy sphere!
With song of the oriole, with hum of the bee,
We welcome thy coming from far Southern sea.

Thou tintest the blossom on Winter's cold grave;
Bidd'st Commerce ride forth on the white-crested wave;
Thy sweet zephyrs float from the golden-hued west
As whisper of angels from realm of the blest.

The tiniest leaflets which brighten the ground
No less than great waters thy praises resound;
As, peeping from wayside, or climbing the bower,
They kiss the gay sunlight, or drink in the shower.

Heaven's choristers warble in gladsome reply,
As trees offer incense unto thy blue sky;
Even rough ocean, melting to low, passive strain,
Joins earth in harmonious and joyous refrain.

Ah me! for the roses of summer all strewn!
Ah me! for the lives whose brief sunshine has flown!
The clouds often darken at noontide the wave;
The willows oft weep o'er a midsummer's grave.

Oh! for that bright land where no shadows e'er fall;
Nor sickness e'er withers, nor sorrows appall;
Where summers of gladness unceasingly roll
O'er the sinless home of the sanctified soul.

AUTUMN.

Robed in thy raiment of splendor,
Thy trappings of purple and gold;
Brighter than vision of dreamland,
Thou lightenest mountain and wold.
Streameth thy rays o'er the woodland;
And the green of the sombre pine,
And the crimson of the maple leaf
Are wreathed in a lustre divine.

Clothed is fair earth of thy fulness;
Enriched is the bloom of the flower;
From verdant to radiant beauty
Thou shadest the gay trellised bower.
Thy smile doth paint the yellow corn;
Thou sing'st in rustle of the sheaves;
Thy symphonies of praise ascend
In twitter of the orchard leaves.

Calm, mellow skies look kindly down
On tree-clad hill, on fruitful vale;
Whilst mariners, on far-off seas,
Hoist canvas to the homeward gale.
Thy generous hand doth fill the cup
With choice reward for labor's crown;
Thy teeming fields revoice that hope
Which blancheth not 'neath Winter's frown.

For though earth's life-sustaining store
Be gathered from her bounteous breast;
Though leafage falls on bare, brown floor,
Though nature lieth long at rest,

The snows shall flit at Spring's warm breath,
And, after Summer's round of cheer,
Again shall Autumn lays peal forth;
Again shall mercy crown the year.

WINTER.

Down came the rude winds of the Northland;
Their icy breath crusting the snow,
Chilling the mirth of the babbling stream,
Till it sullenly gurgles below.
Freezing the shroud on the lifeless hill,
Erst-while all aglow in its green;
Mocking the gloom of a low-arched sky
By pearl-flashing forest between.

Bitterly keen was that rude, north wind;
I sighed with the outgoing year,
And yearned for the kindlier, warmer suns
Which had waned over Autumn's bier.
That love which haloed the loved of youth,
Which kept unscathed its primal hold,
Outshone the weal of the passing hour;
And harped on nature's minor chord.

As tenderly, up the aisles of time,
Through many a winter's snow
There trilled the long-missed harmonies;
Dear hearts of the long ago!

But--Hush ye voices of plaint within!
Give ear to the voices without;
Over the snow-piles, down the dull street
There pealeth a boy's merry shout.

A tide of youth, with its pleasure freight,
In sunshine of gladness sweeps past;
And clear on the frosty air rings out
"Jolly old Winter's come at last."
Then wholesome trust in the Ever-Good
Welled up over carping unrest;--
I chime in the chime of the changing years;
_They_ bow to their Ruler's behest.

EASTER.

"Fear not!" said the white-robed angel
Who rolled the stone away;
"Fear not, for your Lord is risen;
Come see where Jesus lay."
Oh! joy for the blessed assurance!
No sealed, or guarded grave,
Could bind in its rocky shroudings
The Christ who came to save.

Adown through the circling ages,
As threads of living gold,
The tidings of that hallowed morn
Have spanned life's dreary world.
Have touched, convinced, subdued the soul;
Till reason's twilight ray,

Till vice, and dolesome ignorance
Give place to perfect day.

That voice which awed the angry wave
On deep, blue Galilee,
Yet calms, and rules with mild control,
From nigh to further sea.
Yet wakes to life the desert land,
Breaks superstition's hold;
And, wanderers on the myriad paths,
Doth compass in one fold.

Ye seraphs! strike your golden harps,
Tuned with devotion high;
With echoing pæans sweetly thrill
The arches of the sky.
Whilst we, in noblest measures
Which earthly voices sing,
Yield homage to our risen Lord
Our glorious Saviour--King.

THANKSGIVING.

In Tisri's holier season,
From City of the Palms
To where onycha incense soared
Amid Hosanna psalms,
Waved green from every housetop,
Gay plumes of laurel tree;
Whilst silver trumpets pealed afar
The tones of victory.

Since through atoning sacrifice
Had dawned the spirit's peace;
And through earth's toil a rich reward
Was reaped, in earth's increase.

Though ruin marks where Tadmor reigned,
And Israel roameth far;
No shoals may stem the mercy-tide;
No power Heaven's largess bar.
Then through the great Atonement's dawn,
Be lit our sin-dimmed eyes;
Till grateful accents pierce the mist,
Into rejoicing skies.
Till garnered fruit, and aftermath;
Till Autumn's tender shine
With farewell tones of woodland song,
Reflect the Love Divine.

CHRISTMAS EVE.

I.

Deep shadows mar the pearly snow;
Light flickers on the wall;
While childhood's laugh, as music's flow
Resoundeth through the hall.

Now echoes from the years return;--
Ring out thou pealing bell!
While thought doth last, or memory burn
Thou may'st not strike their knell.

And visions from the earlier days
Within the mind arise,
Illumined by a golden haze;
For earth seems near the skies.

And round our hearth the voices throng
Which tender memories bring;
Those tones which died in even-song,
Those stilled in budding spring.

Once more we gather, as in one,
To list the tale oft told;
That legacy from sire to son
Which waxeth never old.

II.

No shrill-toned clarion wakes the night
O'er Juda's slumbering plains;
No trumpet blast of armèd might
Sounds forth "Messiah reigns."

No curious crowd demands a sight;
No trophy flameth high;
But seraph hosts, on wings of light,
Haste through the ebon sky.

With glad acclaim His name they sing
Whose praise all heaven doth fill;
At whose command to earth they bring
The message of goodwill.

Oh wonderful! the angels' Lord
In human guise arrayed;

He, by archangels great adored,
Within a manger laid.

Where sages, guided by the star,
Kneel by that Holy One;
As, with rich offerings from afar,
They greet the Virgin's son.