 | Poems of home and country |  |
I. DOMESTIC BEGINNINGS.
CHILDHOOD MEMORIES.
Oh, no, they shall not be forgot,
Those days of simple truth,—
The harmless sports and noisy joys
Of boyhood and of youth;
Those days of simple truth,—
The harmless sports and noisy joys
Of boyhood and of youth;
Chorus.
But when upon those early scenesWe suffer thought to dwell,
We'll drink to their dear memory from
The pure, the pure deep well.
We wander o'er each scene anew,
We tread each hallowed spot
Where time in giddy gladness flew,—
Oh, can they be forgot!
We tread each hallowed spot
Where time in giddy gladness flew,—
Oh, can they be forgot!
Chorus.
Roll back, roll back the tide of cares,
Roll back the swelling sea;
An hour we'll give to think upon
Our days of youthful glee;
Roll back the swelling sea;
An hour we'll give to think upon
Our days of youthful glee;
Chorus.
2
But ah! those cheerful scenes are gone,
Their joys fled fast away;
The friends of our bright boyhood's morn,—
Oh, tell me, where are they!
Their joys fled fast away;
The friends of our bright boyhood's morn,—
Oh, tell me, where are they!
Chorus.
Bereaved, but bowing to our lot,
Our onward path we tread,
As mournfully we gather up
The mantles of the dead.
Our onward path we tread,
As mournfully we gather up
The mantles of the dead.
Chorus.
The places where our youth was spent;
The friends who now are not;
The scenes we loved, those joyous hours,—
They shall not be forgot.
The friends who now are not;
The scenes we loved, those joyous hours,—
They shall not be forgot.
Chorus.
TO LITTLE MARY WHITE.
“OUR FIRST-BORN.”
Thou precious pledge of love,Of ties that bind two kindred hearts in one,
Dear infant Mary; 't is with joy we hail
Thy coming; and with joy we both shall strive
To make thee happy, useful, thro' the scenes
Of mortal life. Heaven watch o'er thee, my child,
Thro' all thy infant slumbers; guard thee well
In youth's most tempting perils; spare thy life,
To us as precious as our own, and give,
When life shall end, a crown of joy.
3
My child, this is a world of grief and change;
And 't is a high behest, beyond the lot
Of changeful earthliness and worldly pride,
Which thou art sent to finish. When the day
That brings the power of knowing right and wrong
Shall be to thee, whate'er thou art, and where,
Know this, and 'grave it on thy memory,
Thy father and thy mother, fearing God,
Did, on this day which gave thee life and light,
To Him that life and light devote. Know, then,
Thou must not think thyself thine own on earth,
For thou art wholly consecrate to God,
Born for His service, given for His praise.
So live that thou mayst honor Him, and then
Sit down in heaven with all the glorified.
Waterville, Aug. 5, 1835.
CRADLE SONG.
FROM THE GERMAN.
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Our cottage vale is deep;
The little lamb is on the green,
His snowy fleece is soft and clean,
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Our cottage vale is deep;
The little lamb is on the green,
His snowy fleece is soft and clean,
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Sleep, baby, sleep!
I would not, would not weep;
The little lamb—he never cries—
How bright and happy are his eyes,
Sleep, baby, sleep!
I would not, would not weep;
The little lamb—he never cries—
How bright and happy are his eyes,
Sleep, baby, sleep!
4
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Thy rest shall angels keep;
The lamb before the doors shall feed,
And suffer neither want nor need.
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Thy rest shall angels keep;
The lamb before the doors shall feed,
And suffer neither want nor need.
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Near where the woodbines creep;
Be like the lamb so meek and mild,
A sweet and kind and gentle child.
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Near where the woodbines creep;
Be like the lamb so meek and mild,
A sweet and kind and gentle child.
Sleep, baby, sleep!
SALLIE.
Thus comes another; may she stand
Among the saints in light,
Blest Saviour, at thy own right hand,
And walk with thee in white.
Among the saints in light,
Blest Saviour, at thy own right hand,
And walk with thee in white.
And should her pilgrimage be long,
And sharp affliction's rod,
Or short her pathway to the skies,
Oh, may it end in God!
And sharp affliction's rod,
Or short her pathway to the skies,
Oh, may it end in God!
October 18, 1838.
5
TO MY BLESSED WIFE.
ON THE BIRTH OF OUR “FIRST-BORN.”
'T was an eventful day that made thee feel
The breath of thy first-born. There are on earth
A thousand pleasant sounds, but none like that
In which the little babe, by slender cries,
Its earliest wants, else all unknown, reveals.
There is no sight to the young mother's eye
So full of sweet attractiveness, in all the scenes,
Tho' grand or beautiful in every part,
Of the Creator's works, as in the form
Of infant feebleness, and the first ray
In which its opening eye, unknowingly,
Looks up.
The breath of thy first-born. There are on earth
A thousand pleasant sounds, but none like that
In which the little babe, by slender cries,
Its earliest wants, else all unknown, reveals.
There is no sight to the young mother's eye
So full of sweet attractiveness, in all the scenes,
Tho' grand or beautiful in every part,
Of the Creator's works, as in the form
Of infant feebleness, and the first ray
In which its opening eye, unknowingly,
Looks up.
Well, 't is a holy gift. To us
The God we worship hath entrusted now
One of His jewels, to be trained on earth
For heaven's bright treasure-house. Oh, may He spare
The life so sweet and young, and ours, so full
Of weal or woe to her condition. And may He,
Who heard the prayer of Hannah, list to ours,
And take this dedicated child, to serve
And glorify Him here—then shine above,
A star of matchless radiance, in the crown
Of our Redeemer.
The God we worship hath entrusted now
One of His jewels, to be trained on earth
For heaven's bright treasure-house. Oh, may He spare
The life so sweet and young, and ours, so full
Of weal or woe to her condition. And may He,
Who heard the prayer of Hannah, list to ours,
And take this dedicated child, to serve
And glorify Him here—then shine above,
A star of matchless radiance, in the crown
Of our Redeemer.
August 6, 1835.
6
OUR FRANK.
At first, a sickly babe, with angel face
And gentle heart, and meek, fond, clinging ways,
O'er whom the tearful eye and careful hand
Watched long and faithful, half in hope, and half
Too near despair, dreaming that thy young life,
Like flickering taper, would ere long go out,
And early blight assail thy slight weak frame.
Now thou art grown a strong and noble boy;
Health flushes thy young cheek, and from thy mouth
Pour shouts of childish joy. What hopes in thee
Lie treasured, child of our prayers, our eldest son!
And gentle heart, and meek, fond, clinging ways,
O'er whom the tearful eye and careful hand
Watched long and faithful, half in hope, and half
Too near despair, dreaming that thy young life,
Like flickering taper, would ere long go out,
And early blight assail thy slight weak frame.
Now thou art grown a strong and noble boy;
Health flushes thy young cheek, and from thy mouth
Pour shouts of childish joy. What hopes in thee
Lie treasured, child of our prayers, our eldest son!
God keep thee, Frank, firm in temptation's hour!
'T will come on thee; it has on all the earth.
God be thy shield, and God thy comforter;
We yield thee up to Him. Be thou His child,
Prompt to obey His will; His messenger,
To bear to darkened men the light of life;
His loving, loved disciple. May thy head
Rest on the Saviour's bosom, fitting place
For one whom earthly rest can never fill;
For gentle souls, for spirits born to be
Immortal as their author.
'T will come on thee; it has on all the earth.
God be thy shield, and God thy comforter;
We yield thee up to Him. Be thou His child,
Prompt to obey His will; His messenger,
To bear to darkened men the light of life;
His loving, loved disciple. May thy head
Rest on the Saviour's bosom, fitting place
For one whom earthly rest can never fill;
For gentle souls, for spirits born to be
Immortal as their author.
Live, fair boy,
A pillar of the truth on earth, and then
A gem, to shine with living, glowing light
Bright in the Saviour's coronet.
A pillar of the truth on earth, and then
A gem, to shine with living, glowing light
Bright in the Saviour's coronet.
September 5, 1836.
7
TO LITTLE ANN.
Our babe, escaping from life's woes
Ere one brief day was given,
Just gleamed on earth, a fitful ray,
Then shone, a star in heaven.
Ere one brief day was given,
Just gleamed on earth, a fitful ray,
Then shone, a star in heaven.
At sunset's mild and chastened hour
We laid her 'neath the sod,—
Our earliest representative
Before the throne of God.
We laid her 'neath the sod,—
Our earliest representative
Before the throne of God.
September 15, 1837.
DANIEL APPLETON WHITE.
Another bantling! lo, he comes,
Not Miss, but Mr., Fudge;
A master-spirit, born to be
Surnamed “the little judge”!
Not Miss, but Mr., Fudge;
A master-spirit, born to be
Surnamed “the little judge”!
A portly personage, and fair,
In wit and knowledge big;
Fat as an alderman, and decked,
Judge-like, in his white wig.
In wit and knowledge big;
Fat as an alderman, and decked,
Judge-like, in his white wig.
8
Off! Puss and Frank and Sallie, off!
The Master bids you trudge!
For I, in all these parts, am made
His Majesty, the Judge!
The Master bids you trudge!
For I, in all these parts, am made
His Majesty, the Judge!
“Tin plate and mug are mine,—who dares
My rank of power to grudge?
I'll have my way; I know I'm right,
Left-handed, but a judge!
My rank of power to grudge?
I'll have my way; I know I'm right,
Left-handed, but a judge!
“Off from the staircase! children, off!”
(Why don't the babies budge?)
“I'm coming down at one broad leap!”
There sprawling lies the judge.
(Why don't the babies budge?)
“I'm coming down at one broad leap!”
There sprawling lies the judge.
Whatever mighty man has done,
Another, doubtless, can;
Now don't you think this wondrous judge
Will make a wondrous man?
Another, doubtless, can;
Now don't you think this wondrous judge
Will make a wondrous man?
June 18, 1840.
| Poems of home and country | |