Lines in Pleasant Places :: :: University of Virginia Library

How glad the time when Boyhood hears,
From Fancy's tongue, in all its ears,
The prophecy of wealth and fun
To culminate with twenty-one!
What glories to the vision ope,
As Hope unfolds her horoscope!
What fairy fringes girt around
The sweep of earth's enchanted bound!
What myriad promises we see
Awaiting in the time To-Be!—
That golden time of freedom shown,
When, Manhood gained, we stand alone,
To sport a bran-new freedom coat,
And pay a suffrage tax, and vote;
To stand for office in the town,
And be elected or put down;
To trot with parties, and abuse
All who to vote with us refuse;

In legal right to sell and buy,
With not a soul to question why!
[OMITTED]
Manhood! the crown of Nature's plan,
How grand the boon to be a man!
But not in garments' form, alone,
Is that which makes men manly shown;
Not by the whiskers or the beard,
—A man's monopoly revered,—
For those who wear no beards at all,
Or clothes that one might manly call,
Move in the world with mind and heart,
And act, far best, the manly part;
And often where supreme success
Has seemed the fruit of manliness,
'Tis half suspected that the aid
Received at home success has made,
Provoking, oftentimes, the jest,
That changing garments might be best!
'Tis not the size that manly makes—
A big man may be “no great shakes,”
And one that's small we often see
May yet a monstrous failure be.
'Tis not the beauty of the face
That gives to manliness its grace,
Though manly thoughts do spread a glow
Upon the human face, we know.
The lantern can't illume a bit
Until the lamp within is lit,
And then, out shining forth, it streams,
To cheer and gladden by its beams.

And time, alone, don't make the man;
For eighty years were but a span
If spent in simply selfish aims,
Regardless of another's claims.
A century of sordid strife
Is but the shadow of a life
Compared with his who good essays,
And spends in generous acts his days.
Old Hunks may ply all trading art
To pile up dollars in the mart,—
May have his coffers haply lined
With greenbacks of the “tender” kind,
And coupons ready to be met
In golden eagles, “screaming” yet—
But what is he, when all is told,
More than an image made of gold,
Without the will, the manhood true,
To exercise the means to do?
We own no manhood such as this;
For no such luck is ours, I wis,
As Providence, in kindly mood,
Keeps from our doors the tempting brood
That comes with overweening wealth,
And safely shields our moral health,
Permitting us to be controlled
By better qualities than gold!
We feel the favor, but confess
It goes beyond our ken to guess
Why virtuous attributes like ours
Should be curtailed thus of their powers—

So much of human good to win,
So little of the needed “tin.”
The poor for others keenly feel,
And want of cash awakens zeal;
The exercise of constant care
Excites a growth of manhood rare,
Which may not dazzle like the sun,
But, like a stream, its course may run,
Gladdening the banks it flows between
With garniture of living green;
Cheering the heart of tree and flower
By quiet effluence of power;
Speeding its way on tranquilly
Until it meets the eternal sea!—
Such manhood as forever cheers
Along the great highway of years:
Not by the grandeur of its state,
But by its acts more good than great,—
By word or wish in kindness given,
Fraught with the melody of heaven;
True manhood, based on love sublime,
A miracle of good in Time.

A cloud o'er Winnisimmet hung,
And shadows dwelt its scenes among,
Which with a gloom Tartarean fell
Upon the sons of Ishmael
That in that famed locale are found,
Whose contradictions so abound

That it would seem some high decree
Made all agree to disagree.
[OMITTED]
The faithful 'mid the darkness groped
And prayed for light, and warmly hoped,
Till, through the blackness of the night,
The Star of Bethlehem shed its light,
And in the East, o'er Powderhorn,
A day of radiant joy was born!

As on the old Judean plain
Was heard the glad, sublime refrain,
So did attending angels then
Proclaim good will and peace to men!

As principle, incarnate, moves
Upon its course in human grooves,
The Star assumed terrestrial form,
With attributes and feelings warm,
To speed, with ready will, and aid
Where sorrow's sad appeal was made;
To reach the hand with pity warm
Where fell severe misfortune's storm;
To bid the brimming eye o'erflow
While contemplating human woe;
To pluck up sinking Manhood, tost
On life's dark sea, with hope all lost;
All human misery to ease
And lead man heavenward—by degrees!
Imperfect oft, but still it grew,
Fired with the constant wish to do.

And what accomplished?—ask the heart
That caught its gleam in sorrow's smart,
When, 'mid the waves of mortal woe,
Its words were heard in accents low,
Like those of the Almighty will
Which bade the vexéd seas be still;
The widow, in her stricken state,
When all the world seemed desolate,
What solace on her anguish fell
And made her murmur, “It is well;”
The brother, in his dying hour,
When earthly scenes had lost their power,
That whispered in his failing ear
Blest words of comfort and of cheer;
The orphan, in his youthful pain,
Made hopefully to smile again,
Forgetting all his boding fears,
Loving and trusting through his tears.
[OMITTED]
But just begun the man's career
When boyhood's frailties disappear,
And all the good the past has shown
Is education's germ alone.
The vanished years' important sum
Is but the type of that to come—
Initial hint of work to do,
Success the grand reward in view.

The love we sow in early youth
Will grow in majesty and truth,
And lessons learned, at whate'er cost,

Are never in the future lost.
And so the seeds that we have strewed
Along life's thorny, troubled road,
Grow up to trees, whose branches spread
And cast their shadows far ahead,
Or lade the breeze with odors sweet,
Or scatter blessings round our feet.

In times when 'prentices were free,
A day they gave to jollity;
A “freedom frolic,” fraught with fun,
To crown the welcome twenty-one.
The glad occasion we recall:
The egg-nog, supper, and the ball,
The roaring song, the hearty cheer,
The wicked pranks, the stories queer;
The “old man” joining with the boys
In all their mirth and all their noise,
While, looking on with pleasant mien,
The mistress and the girls are seen,
To hold in check the rampant mood
By womanly beatitude.

And we, upon our gala day,
Throw all disturbing care away,
To mingle in a festive scene
Of happiness and joy serene.
Not with the olden spirit shown,
But in a nectar of our own—
A spirit that ne'er burns the lip,
The spirit of good fellowship;

While on us beam those loving eyes,
Whose glances and whose smiles we prize,
—Whose influence cheers us as we go,—
That make a heaven, of course, below.
So bards have sung, since early time,
With truth not always found in rhyme.
[OMITTED]
We hear the call of duty plain;
We see the Star beam forth again,
As erst it fell on Bethlehem,
—The gem in Night's fair diadem,
That on the brow of darkness lay,
With man's salvation in its ray,—
And taking courage with our view,
We cheerfully the path pursue.

To public eyes the veil we raise,
Not courting scrutiny nor praise;
Making no meaningless pretence,
And asking nought but confidence.
Though secret are our forms and rites,
That call us out sometimes o' nights,
This thought regard should never lack:
We bring a better feeling back,
To compensate the hearts at home
For all the moments that we roam.
[OMITTED]
No angry eyes or aspect blue
Would e'er be seen—if folks but knew,
And as they don't, we let it rest
Till works make virtue manifest.

O, may the zeal that wakened when
The Star first gave its light to men,
Descend and stimulate each heart
To act with faithfulness its part!
That, when the labor of our love
Is squared by Overseers above,
We may the glad approval hear,
Within our spirit-quickened ear:
Good work! well done, ye good and true;
Take the reward that is your due.

Delivered on the Twenty-first Anniversary of the Star of Bethlehem Lodge, Chelsea, Nov. 7, 1864. The general principle inculcated in this poem will apply, like an almanac calculation, to many latitudes.

Chelsea.