Roses whose parted petals never fall;
Transmuted, they in living light,
Vibrate responsive to the heart of man,
And man to God.
CHRISTMAS GIFTS.
I like to watch the Christmas gifts, so gaily they go by,
To win sweet words from sweeter lips, the love light to the eye.
The mother’s face will beam with joy, the children dance with glee,
When, as the evening closes in, we gather round the tree.
I like to watch the Christmas gifts, a father’s willing hands
Are bearing swiftly homeward for he always understands
Just what will give most pleasure to the hearts he longs to please,
Although he may not bring them, either wealth, or power, or ease.
I like to watch the Christmas gifts, they gladly troop along,
The plain, the proud, the practical, a merry, motley throng.
It matters not how much they cost in money, none may miss,
Giving at least one person some share of Christmas bliss.
WHAT HE WANTED.
“Mamma dear, I am so sleepy; will good Santy truly come
With a bang-er-bang, a ’teamer, and a ball, a kite, a drum?
I just awesul want a rainbow for whenever papa’s late,
We could wave it from the window and he would not miss the gate.
It is snowing, now I wonder if I ask Kris Kringle nice,
Would he carve a baby city from a tiny bit of ice?
Have a lot of ’tores, and turches, and a sun, and moon, and ’tars,
With the dearest, sweetest station, for my toot-er-tooting cars?
Hang a ’tocking over yonder; clear the corner for the toys,
Then just write a line to tell him I’m the very best of boys;
And, oh mamma, when you write it, write it bid so he can hear,
For he didn’t see our chimney as he hurried by last year;
Oh, I should be dreadful sorry if to-night he passed again,
So be careful, mamma darling, and be sure and write it plain.
Pin it close beside the mantle where he cannot fail to see,
Tissmas is so long in coming to a little chap like me.”
A HERO.
Every man’s a hero who dares
And forbears.
Every man’s a hero who will stand
Faithful to the interests at hand.
Where so e’er its starry folds we see
Ours shall be the banner of the free;
Gladly, boldly, battle for the right
Day follows night.
BABY’S CHRISTMAS.
Baby’s face is in a glow,
Baby’s eyes are bright
Oh, would you the reason know?
Santa comes to-night.
Santa Claus of whom she’s heard,
Heard but never met;
Santa Claus--a magic word,
With what joy beset.
Baby’s heart is beating fast,
Beating with delight;
“Here is Santa; come at last!”
Is the darling right?
Papa’s feet are at the door
Papa’s arms are wide,
Precious kisses, gems galore,
Sweetest gifts provide.
Baby journeys off to rest,
Cuddled close and warm
In the arms she loves the best,
Safe from every storm.
And she has the strangest dream
Seeing Santa stand,
Chirping to his reindeer team,
Trophies in his hand.
But the wondrous part is this:--
Santa’s face appears
Just like one she loves to kiss,
Wreathed in smiles and tears.
Brightest visions come to bless
Baby’s waking eyes,
And her very looks confess
All her glad surprise.
LOVELY MAY.
A RONDEAU.
O lovely May, throw thy soft spell
On mountain proud and smiling dell,
The world is kneeling at thy shrine--
Fond captive of thy moods divine,--
And nations rise thy charms to tell.
Where could we meet thy parallel?
Who would thy witching arts repel?
Who dares thy choicest gifts define,
O lovely May?
And Nature?--Ah, she loves thee well,
For Hope and Youth beside thee dwell.
Thy sister months with thee combine
As lesser streamlets swell the Rhine.
’Twere sin against thee to rebel,
O lovely May.
THE CHIMES.
Hark to the voice of the joyful chimes
Echoing on to fairer climes,
Echoing on from hill to hill;
“Peace on earth, good will, good will!”
Hark to the song of prayer, of praise,
Speeding along the world’s highways,
Echoing on from hill to hill:
“Peace on earth, good will, good will!”
Hark to the melody sweet and clear
Swiftly borne to the eager ear;
Echoing on from hill to hill:
“Peace on earth, good will, good will!”
Hark to the carol of life, of love,
Wafted down from the realms above.
Echoing on from hill to hill:
“Peace on earth, good will, good will!”
WELL MAY I LAUGH.
Well may I laugh when the earth is aglow
With bountiful gifts love alone can bestow;
The manifold works from the Father’s own hand,
But image the wealth of Immanuel’s land.
Well may I laugh when the sun is so bright,
The mountains and valleys are bathing in light;
The breezes of summer and winter’s shrill blast,
All telling of greatness and glory at last.
Well may I laugh from pure gladness of heart,
For in this fair world even I have a part;
There is not a day but what something is done,
Some good is accomplished, some victory won.
Well may I laugh, it is pleasant to live,
To love and to labor, to gain and to give;
While never a pleasure in life can compare,
With pleasures eternal that all men may share.
SANTA’S COMING.
Listen darling, Santa’s coming,
Hark the reindeer at the door
Hear the carol he is humming,
Sweeter, clearer, than before.
Look what treasures he is bringing
Dainty trifles, works of art,
While the music of his singing
Is as nectar to the heart.
Listen, darling, Santa’s coming!
Hush! his feet are at the door;
Hear the carol he is humming
Now the busy day is o’er.
Hurry, dearest, run to meet him,
He must never wait outside
When your merry face can greet him,
Rosy cheeked and eager eyed.
Listen, darling, Santa’s coming!
He is with us, at the door;
Hear the carol he is humming,
Bid him welcome home once more.
Throw your loving arms around him,
Call him by his own true name
For a daughter’s love has found him
Prince of Santas just the same.
TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW.
Let us be brave, to-day, to-day,
And ne’er content to borrow,
From lovely things that blithely stray
Adown a fair to-morrow.
To-day is ours for what we will
And victory is waiting,
If we but press from hill to hill
No jot of strength abating.
What though these willing hands are weak,
And brightest paths are dreary;
The heights will not be always bleak,
The feet not always weary.
Let us be glad, to-day, to-day,
And ne’er content to borrow,
From lovely things that blithely stray
Adown a fair to-morrow.
COMMENDATION.
Shall we stand blindly commending person or place?
Wide is the margin that lies between feeling and face,
Life is steadily tending to joy or despair,
What for the bliss of the future, will not a soul dare?
Daily we seek to move forward fast as we can
Giving kind thought to the welfare of each brother man,
Though the bright sunshine is hidden, clouds will uproll
Bidding the glory of heaven transfigure the soul.
TRIED AND TRUE.
Loyal freemen, tried and true,
Gallantly they stand,
With the sacrifice in view
Battling for our land.
Battling for her highest good,
Battling for her life;
Even as their fathers stood
Ready for the strife.
Where the smoke of conflict clung
Like a dreary pall,
There was work for old and young
Work for one and all.
Work that stirred the nation’s heart
For the cannon’s boom
Heralded the hero’s part
In rebellion’s doom.
At the front ’mid shot and shell,
Marching side by side;
How the dead and wounded fell,
Soldiers true and tried.
Fathers, brothers, husbands, sons,
Harkened to one voice,
Freedom, speaking through her guns,
Bidding men rejoice.
Listen to the widow’s moan,
Children, too, must weep;
What to them can e’er atone
For the watch they keep?
Far away by lonely graves
Fragrant lilies bloom;
There our starry banner waves
O’er the soldier’s tomb.
* * * * *
But the living, down the years
Steadily they come,
Listen to the ringing cheers,
To the throbbing drum.
To the dirges wailing by
On the willing breeze,
How they swell and sob and die,
Over such as these.
Clear above that martial tread,
Sounds a bugle sweet,
Telling how they fought and bled;
Praising work complete.
Hail! ye comrades, honor crowned,
Moving on abreast,
To the final camping ground
And eternal rest.
SUNNY SKIES.
Who would have them always so?
Clouds must come and tempests blow.
We would sing a doleful tune
Were there not a rose in June,
See the willing drops come down
Chatter! patter! till the brown
Barren hill tops are as bright
As the stars that gem the night.
NOT A DAY.
There is not a day,
There is not an hour,
But carries away
Or offers us power.
Which is the better
The winner or loser?
To fortune a debtor,
Or fortune’s wise user?
To other men’s view,
Though steadily striving,
How little we do
Unless we are thriving.
The quaint artist Time
Close student of Duty,
Is a master sublime
In painting soul beauty.
We may not improve
On what he has shown us,
But forward must move
Or he will disown us.
The higher we stand
For prizes contending,
The more rigid demand
For delicate blending.
THINGS DONE.
Thing’s done,
Behind us are cast,
Find one
To no purpose made fast.
What we cannot undo
May occasion regret;
Traitor or true
We never forget.
Things done
Belong to the past,
Out run
By a momentum vast.
It is well to recall
The importance of each,
Knowing they all
Had lessons to teach.
Things done
Are easily classed,
May none
Ever hold us aghast.
Let us blessings impart
As upward we press;
Where beats the heart
A foe to success?
THE WORD.
A lamp unto my feet
Illuming life’s dull way,
Though sternest tempests beat
A lamp unto my feet,
It makes my joy complete
As sunbeams crown the day:--
A lamp unto my feet
Illuming life’s dull way.
The light of this great world
And of the world to come;
With rays of glory pearled,
The light of this great world,
Love’s banner fair unfurled
Mid labor’s busy hum,
The light of this great world
And of the world to come.
FEAR NOT.
Fear not though dangers dread assail thee
Stand ever as a hero mid the fray;
Well may the skill of eye and arm avail thee
To keep the foe at bay.
Fear not, though dark the way and dreary,
The legions of the enemy shall flee;
When thou art sore oppressed and worn and weary,
Thy Lord takes thought of thee.
THE LAW OF THE PRESENT, OBEY.
The law of the present obey,
To-morrow every one knows
Before we can catch it goes;
Nothing compares with to-day,
Strive as we may.
Be hopeful, and happy and brave,
Whatever the moments may bring;
When given to sighing, sing,
Wait not for life boat to save,
Walk on the wave.
CHRISTMAS EVE.
Only a tiny stocking hung in the fire light warm,
Only a weary pilgrim breasting the tide of the storm;
Only an anxious watcher piercing the heart of the gloom;
Only a prayerful whisper breaking the calm of the room.
Time creeps slowly forward while the swirling snow flakes fall
Upon field, and hill, and highway, and night enfolds them all;
But hark! a voice is shouting, then a welcome step draws near,
And the angel:--Joy, has banished the ghosts of doubt, of fear.
Only a sleepy fairy who trembles to behold
A host of precious trophies with a wonderment untold,
But the treasure highest valued, the pure, the perfect prize
Is love, the true love beaming from her own dear father’s eyes.
IN THE MIRROR.
In the mirror what do I see?
Velvety brown eyes peeping at me.
Long silken tresses glinting like gold,
Cheeks like the roses ere they unfold.
Hush! but a moment, do not say no;
Look at the elf that is charming me so.
Just a wee darling who to me flies
Saying: “Oh, tate me! tate or me ties.”
LIVING FOR OTHERS.
Living for others, living for self,
Good of the few or worldly pelf,
Giving to all with lavish hand
Of the humble gifts at our command;
Which is the best to save or share
Whether the day be dark or fair:--
To save or share the little we get,
Though storms prevail and foes beset?
Though kingdoms fall and wars increase,
The heart is filled with joy and peace,
Willing to strive with word and deed
To help some fainting soul succeed.
THE BOOK OF TIME.
The Book-of-Time, each page a year,
With every word a hope or fear,
Thereon impressed in lines of light
Would bid us read its truths aright,
The Book-of-Time a volume vast,
The royal record of a past
Wherein a century ’s a day,
Before eternity’s broad sway.
The Book-of-Time ’tis bound in gold,
This mammoth book no man can hold;
And angel fingers wield the pen
That writeth of the deeds of men.
The Book-of-Time transcribed shall lie
As open as the fair blue sky;
Many a loving heart shall find
How wise it was in being kind.
WHO IS THIS SO LOVED OF YORE?
Who is this so loved of yore
Shyly tapping at the door?
Striking off the icy chain
That the earth may thrive again.
Wooing violets in the dale
To their faces fair unveil;
Bidding all the world rejoice
In the music of her voice.
See the farmer grasp the plough,
’Tis the day of sowing now;
Hark the robin’s happy call
Keeping house by yon gray wall;
Hear the brooklet’s note of glee
Dancing to the eager sea
Read the message of the King
In the hand of Lovely Spring.
CHRISTMAS THOUGHTS.
Christmas thoughts how pure and sweet,
Christmas joys how fair!
Oh, the mysteries, we meet,
Smiles are everywhere.
Gifts are found in cosy nooks
Never sought before,
Precious gems in toys and books
Hide behind the door.
Pleasant wishes finely wrought
In the simplest way,
Into trophies Santa brought
In his magic sleigh;
Bid the tender heart expand
At a treasure found,
Fashioned by affection’s hand
And by mercy crowned.
Christmas thoughts they give delight
While with care we cope,
Brightening the darkest night
With the star of hope.
Oh, when earth friends are so dear,
Earthly joys so sweet,
Then indeed is heaven near,
Life itself complete.
Christmas thoughts what jewels rare,
On the soul’s white shrine;
Beautiful beyond compare,
Sent by Love Divine.
But the greatest gift of all
Comes that happy day
When we hear the Saviour call:--
“Trust me and obey.”
BEAUTY OF THE SOUL.
Beauty offers every day,
Gifts to cheer us on our way;
Blessed treasures from above
Free as heaven, fair as love.
Cast in beauty’s purest mold
All things great and good behold,
Which eternally will bide,
Earthly stay, Jehovah’s pride.
Watch the wise bird, mark the nest,
Builded slow, and sure and best;
Builded low or builded high,
Winds will vainly whistle by.
See the wayward without care
How they fickle fortune dare,
Shattered homes and blighted hopes
Hurl them down life’s rugged slopes.
Seek the promise of the hour,
Nurture to its fullest flower;
As we train the vine of youth
So will bloom the bud of truth.
Note the lily in the shade
Pining for the sunny glade;
What in all hereafter years
Will avail the too late tears?
BRIGHTER HOURS.
Heavy though the rain drops fall
And the claps ring long and loud.
Brighter hours will come to all
As the sunlight gilds the cloud.
WILLING TO SERVE.
Willing to serve if serve I may,
Willing to serve mid twilight gray;
Willing to serve with heart and hand
Obeying the Divine command.
Willing to serve with weary feet,
Willing to serve, to serve is sweet,
Willing to serve for well I know
The prize my Master will bestow.
BANNERS WAVING.
Flags a-waving, trumpets blowing
Tides of feeling, ebbing, flowing.
“On to battle! on to glory!”
Tell again the wondrous story.
Patriotism brightly burning,
Tempered by a wise discerning.
Town and State together crying:--
“On to Richmond! time is flying!”
Fateful summons, who could falter?
Laying all on Freedom’s altar,
“Forward! March!” proclaimed the nation,
Why, the words were an ovation.
Bugles tarnished, banners tattered,
Bullet scarred and bruised and battered.
Home they came with martial bearing,
Home to cheer the hearts despairing;
Home to children, wives and mothers,
Home the living. (But the others.)
On they came and eyes were tearful,
Many eager, many fearful;
Banners waving, drums a-beating,
Happy hearts, a happy meeting.
And hearts “too sad to be alive;”
Oh, thus it was in sixty-five.
Flags a-waving, bugles blowing,
Honor’s meed to worth bestowing.
Laurel wreathes and roses blending,
With the lily’s breath ascending;
Offer tribute true and tender,
Tribute to each brave defender
For his country’s future caring,
Firm! heroic! noble! daring!
Soldiers, sailors, freemen listen
Till thy cheeks with feeling glisten;
By the banner waving o’er thee,
Must Columbia adore thee.
CAN YOU SEE A LITTLE FACE?
Can you see a little face,
Just the type of witching grace,
As a darling clasps your knee
With a gesture honey sweet,
Lisping love in dimpled glee
Till the sum of life’s complete?
Is she happy as a lark
From the rosy dawn till dark?
And when twilight folds the world
Close within her calm embrace,
Is the night with gladness pearled
By the light of that dear face?
Does she whisper, as her eyes
Bid the drowsy curtains rise:
“Wake me sure, to Santa see”
And; [a shy aside is this,]
“I’ll be truly dood, if he,
Lets me give him just a kiss.”
Do the dimpled fingers cling,
Close and closer while you sing
Praises to the Savior’s name?
Telling of the happy hour
When a precious gift he came,
Prince of love, and peace and power.
THE BABY’S PALM.
A work of art is the baby’s arm
And fairer yet is the shell-pink palm;
But beautiful truth no honest toil,
Can ever that dainty surface soil:
Each cross it carries, each blow for right,
Will serve to make it, and keep it, white.
NO BLESSING EVER COMES BY CHANCE.
No blessing ever comes by chance,
No work is ever quite in vain;
The keenest effort must enhance
The value of the prize we gain.
A kindly act more than we think
May serve to brighten trouble’s brink;
A gentle word in sorrow’s ear,
Is strong the fainting heart to cheer.
THE MAYFLOWER.
[1620.]
Happy, thrice happy, the Puritan maid
Leaving the fort and the grim palisade;
Leaving the bay where the good ship was fast
To find, her head bending low to the blast,
Just a pink and white hood
In the wind-driven wood.
Then smiling and blushing
With eagerness flushing,
So swiftly she hurried
Young Robin was flurried
And as he his pinions to Boreas tossed,
The dear little pink-hooded stranger was lost.
Sadder but wiser our Puritan maid
Quickly her footsteps, impetuous, staid
Scarce had she lost it, another was seen
Looking its best in a garment of green,
With a pink and white hood;
For a moment she stood
With heart lighter beating,
At such a sweet meeting.
As kneeling she found it
Where Nature had gowned it
What visions of promise marched up the bleak slope,
To crown that May blossom, the blossom of hope.
THE BEST WE CAN.
When things don’t go to please us
Is it wisdom to despair?
With a friend at hand who sees us,
And will make the shadows fair?
Shall we let our courage falter,
Fail to sympathize with man?
Fortune’s ways are bound to alter
If we do the best we can.
The light is often hidden
Yet our feet are safely shod,
While we do as we are bidden
Putting perfect trust in God.
He will lead His children ever,
As he has since time began,
And will strengthen each endeavor,
When we do the best we can.
The rugged way, but certain,
Is a blissful way to tread;
Care is ready like a curtain,
To obstruct the path ahead.
Clouds will come, no use repining,
Yonder trial, joy outran,
Brightly still the sun is shining,
We must do the best we can.
If things don’t go to please us
There is little need to fret,
Shall a trifle more to tease us,
Make us gratitude forget?
Needless then to stand debating;
Love will any chasm span;
Winning is a way of stating:--
“We have done the best we can.”
SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO.
Something to look forward to, the healthful soul demands,
The world stands ready to provide good work for willing hands,
Not only is there room for those most competent to climb,
But ev’ry man to-day may claim some gift from busy Time.
Something to look forward to, some duty nobly done,
Some little helpful deed to mark the path from sun to sun;
We cannot fear to freely face each mile stone that we meet,
When loving actions daily tend to make our lives complete.
Something to look forward to, our dearest claims allowed,
Though trouble frowns upon the way, we look beyond the cloud;
As rainbow brightness has the power to darker shades subdue,
The light shall surely shine for those who will the right pursue.
CHRISTMAS.
Christmas is here and joy is ours,
Christmas, the time of songs and flowers,
Flowers of kindness, songs of cheer,
The gala season of all the year.
Christmas is here and eyes are bright.
Homes are happy, and hearts are light,
Hands are open and man is blest,
This golden season of sweet unrest.
Christmas is here and “peace--good will!”
Echoes along from hill to hill;
Gifts are ready and hope is strong,
This grateful season of joy and song.
THE BRIGHTNESS WE HAVE LEARNED TO SHARE.
Divide a blessing and behold
Its worth increased a hundred fold.
A kindly deed, a word of cheer,
Will scatter sunshine far and near.
By telling only what is good,
Truth cannot be misunderstood;
The brightness we have learned to share
May make the darkest pathway fair.
Glad tidings of whatever kind
The closer human friendships bind;
An echo of a joyful song
A hundred eager lips prolong.
Intent to honor’s rights maintain,
No upward effort is in vain;
It is not sacrifice to give
The happiness that helps men live.
RING BUSY BELLS.
Ring busy bells, across the night,
Ring in the tender morning light;
Let merry measures wake the noon
And sunset echo back the tune.
Ambitious who shall lead the van
Of quick rejoicing, boy and man,
And maid and matron mingle tears
With joyful chimes and ringing cheers.
Remember Concord, Bunker Hill,
They bid the pulses leap and thrill
And still athwart the storied past
The present has new meaning cast.
’Tis midnight and the solemn hush
Is shattered by a sudden gush,
A swaying turbulence of sound
That on the startled ear rebounds.
Ring, happy bells, for as you ring
Sweet memories about you cling;
Again we independent stand,
Deliverers of this dear land.
The signal boom triumphant comes
’Mid clashing bells and throbbing drums,
As eager bon-fires flaming high
Imprint their glory on the sky.
We hear the words of Washington,
We praise his work and cry “Well done!”
And when we closer look we see
Our pride, the father of the free.
While briefly glancing down the years
Behold a host of grand careers.
They gave us knowledge, virtue, land
And arts which every year expand.
We honor Lincoln, steadfast, true,
Type of what one good man can do;
He loosed the shackels of the slave:
Preserve the liberty he gave.
The grim destruction of the Maine
Was not a source of grief in vain,
The sadness of her loss was meant
To bring to Cuba’s heart content.
O’er restless miles of ocean vast
Columbia’s brave sons have passed,
Till other nations love to view
Our flag, the red, the white, the blue.
Philippines, to patriot eyes,
A trust, but never more a prize;
McKinley’s noble work shall live:
We fight, we conquer, we forgive.
To crown a stricken race’s release,
Welcome the blessed boon of peace.
Whatever gifts our homes may bless,
May we no distant homes oppress.
THE RIVER-OF-LIFE.
The river-of-life must smoothly flow,
By the hills of hope, its breast aglow
With the cheering light that softly streams,
From golden heights in the land of dreams.
The river-of-life will gently glide
On its ceaseless mission far and wide,
Its forceful current so true and deep
It will not pause at the vale-of-sleep.
The river-of-life runs gaily down
By the shining gates of pleasure-town
And carries our truant thoughts away
On the moment-freighted boat:--To-day.
The river-of-life, how fair it lies,
On the soul’s white map before our eyes;
It ripples on from the land we see
Into the beautiful land To-Be.
Singing Songs for Jesus.
Singing songs for Jesus, singing while we may;
Singing in the darkness, singing in the day.
Singing songs for Jesus, singing with delight;
Never yet was singing, could His love requite.
ANCHOR ME SAFE.
Anchor me safe, though by danger oppressed;
Safe in the haven where motion is rest.
Safe with the waves rushing up on the shore,
Leaving my heart undisturbed by their roar.
Anchor me yonder, the beacon in sight,
Never to wander away from its light;
Type of security, brighten my way,
Turning the darkness of evening to day.
Anchor me safe, lest the surges resound
With the death note of a vessel aground.
Straight is the course the Good Pilot must take,
I may be weary but he is awake.
Worried and weary the tempest unchecked,
No one who trusted Him ever was wrecked!
Breasting the waters, wind driven and high
Perfect the power on which I rely.
Mortal may waver, with Him is the skill
Vanquishing evil; Omnipotent will.
Saviour from trouble, a shelter in storm,
Bidding the world to His wisdom conform.
SHINE OUT.
Shine out, happy soul, let the spiritual brightness be seen,
How much that clear shining is needed when clouds intervene;
Ever the light of the Master illumeth the way,
Changing the gloom of the valley to beautiful day.