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Love ; or Woman's Destiny

A poem in two parts : with other poems

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7

WOMAN'S DESTINY.


9

Invocation.

Come, Thou Holy Inspiration;
Silent as the tread of Time—
Mighty Moulder of Creation,
Mould its mystery in my rhyme:
Lift my soul in adoration
To Almighty God above,
And His wisdom of Probation
Show me by His light of Love.

11

1. PART I.

LIFE WITH LOVE.

Back! beyond the dark of ages:
Back—where centuries began:
Back—where Time's unwritten pages
Took their seal from the first man.
Adam, lord of all created,
In young manhood stood alone,
Left unblessëd while unmated
With a wife to share the throne.

12

As the sky by star unlighted,
As the earth unsown by flower,
Thought and feeling disunited,
Stood the man in lonely power.
Eden's beauty lay unheeded,
He had dreamed of wedded love,
Lo! she comes, the “help” he needed;
As a light from Life above.
Grace and goodness wait upon her,
Last and best the Maker wrought;
Made for home, for love, for honor;
Woman, by Jehovah brought;
“Eve! the Mother of all living,”
Name that crowned humanity;
Adam, when the title giving,
Prophesied her destiny.

13

MAN AND WOMAN

As the star of morn and even
Latest stays and earliest comes,
Thus for man was woman given,
Guide to Heaven, and light of homes.
When she sinned, 'twas wisdom tempted,
Earnest effort good to win;
And her nature stands exempted
From the depths of Adam's sin.
For his sake” the curse descended
On the world and work of man;
Rest and peace in Eden ended,
And Probation's task began.
Woman was beguiled to error;
Wilful sin by man was done;
Life's hard toil, and pain's sharp terror—
Retributions,—each had one:

14

But of hope, which leads to Heaven
Souls that for their trespass grieve,
Not a ray to man was given—
Save the Promise made to Eve.
I will put 'twixt thee and woman
Enmity,” the Lord God said
To the Serpent (Eve was human)
“And her Seed shall bruise thy head.”
Oh, that promise! Heavenly honor
On all womankind bestowed,
When the Mother bears upon her
Brow the hope for man through God!
Had man in his hour of trial
Turned for help to woman's soul,
As the sunbeam meets the dial,
As the needle seeks the pole,

15

Then, her holier nature clinging
In self-sacrificing love
To his side, and daily bringing
Light and hope from heaven above.
Guarding him as doth an angel
From the wiles of Evil Power,
Till the Word of Christ's Evangel,
“Peace on earth,” had found its hour,
Would have saved from heathen errors,
Saved from sins that shroud the race,
From Idolatry's dark terrors,
From Polygamy's disgrace.
But he listened to the Evil
Tempting him to rule alone;
Why place woman on his level?
Strength and reason hold the throne.

16

Thus began earth's mournful story,
Woman shamed, and man discrowned;
Lust and force obtained the glory,
Love and duty bore the wound.
Oh! what wrongs and desolations
On the woman from man's sin,
History tells, and heathen nations
Show what is, and what hath been!
Living under noonday lustre,
Few ask tidings of the night;
Gathering grapes from swelling cluster,
We forget the far off blight.
In our land such desolation
Never darkened homes with shame;
Christ had raised the woman's station;
With His followers women came.

17

THE ANGEL GUIDE

In the Bible's holy charter
Womanhood unfolds its phase,
Humanity's undying martyr,
Helping Christ to save the race.
As the builder of the coral
Works from darkness up to day,
So must woman teach the moral
Ever in an upward way.
With her mind on Heaven above her,
Like Christiana will she be;
Drawing all she meets to love her,
As a moonbeam on the sea,
Making paths of light and glory
Over life's tumultuous tide;
And her name in each life's story
Will be read “The angel guide.”

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Love—pure love, in all its phases
From Divinity to human—
Love that ever chants God's praises,
Love was given the lot of woman.
Marriage sealed the blest creation,
Thus in Eden love was crowned;
Marriage now is life's probation,
Home is Heaven's true training ground.
When before the altar bending
Come the bridal pair arrayed,
Faith, and hope, and love attending,
Now 'tis Eden seen in shade.
As to-day will bring to-morrow,
To the pair their fate will prove,
If one sin, they both must sorrow—
There 's no other way in love.

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THE HOME

Take, O Man! the trust she 's giving:
Next to God thy wife should prove
All thy faithfulness—thus living,
Home joys liken heavenly love.
Thine to toil—the bread provider,
Love and law thy home must bind;
Wife—the lady “bread-divider,”
Using means with thoughtful mind.
Doth not ladyhood beseem her?

Lady means “bread-giver” or “loaf-giver,” and Lord means “maintainer of laws,” and both titles have reference, not to the law which is maintained in the house, nor to the bread which is given to the household; but to law maintained for the multitude, and to bread broken among the multitude. So that a Lord has legal claim to his title only in so far as he is the maintainer of the justice of the Lord of Lords; and a Lady has legal claim to her title only so far as she communicates that help to the poor representatives of her Master, which women once, ministering to Him of their substance, were permitted to extend to that Master Himself; and when she is known, as he Himself once was, in breaking of bread.—

Ruskin's “Sesame and Lilies.”

Honor given in God's wise plan,
Woman—kin with the Redeemer,
Woman—glory of the Man.
He from earth gains strength to lighten
Cares of life that both must bear;
She from Heaven draws love to brighten
Paths of life that both must share.

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His strong arms life's battle fighting,
Her soft hands his wounds to dress,
Force and faith in love uniting
Make the wine of happiness.
This elixir in life's chalice,
Health of mind and conscience come;
Each low roof may hold a palace
If Peace reign within the home.
Peace and love are bridal graces;
Bridegroom, Bride, forget them never!
These keep youth in aged faces,
Cherished here they live forever.
Mother at life's portal station,
Earth's good angel, charged to keep
Childhood's Eden of probation,
She must pray, and watch, and weep.

21

THE HOME

Harden not her mind and feelings
By men's labor, care, and strife;
Nature, in her true revealings,
Gives to Woman inner life.
Not her hand to build the city,
Not her vote to rule the state,
She must reign through love and pity,
By her goodness make men great.
Goodness is beauty in its best estate.—
Marlowe. It is the divinest thing to be good.—
Foster. “Be good,” was the dying injunction to Lockhart of Sir Walter Scott.
'Tis only noble to be good.—
Tennyson.

O ye doubters! wherefore palter
With the laws by which we live?
Nature's contrasts can ye alter?
To one other's virtues give?
Would ye make mankind believers,
Forge from porphyry your swords,
Raise huge rocks with grape-vine levers,
Telegraph with silken cords;—

22

Yet these lovely symbols, teaching
Use through beauty, raise the mind;
Silk, and vine, and porphyry preaching
Nature's gifts to womankind.
As the pines the tallest growing,
And the gnarled oak in the wood,
Mast and knees for ships are showing,
Like man's power of strength for good;
White sail catching breath from heaven,
Swaying banner waving free,
These the woman's symbols given
Show her soul's supremacy.
Would ye change the laws of nature?
Would ye change the household plan?
Mould like man's the woman's stature?
Make the woman as the man?

23

HEATHEN TESTIMONY

O my sisters! wherefore seeking
To be men in place and power?
Nature, by her symbols speaking
In the sunbeam and the shower,
Shows the light on dark cloud pressing,
Ere we feel the storm will cease,
Ere the token-bow of blessing
In its beauty whispers peace.
Heathen men of wisdom witness
To the power of woman's soul;
Frame their usages in fitness
With this feminine control.
In old Egypt's age of glory
Next to Isis woman reigned;
By the household song and story
Men their love of wisdom gained.

24

Subtle Greeks, with genius clearer,
Woman's nature sought to please;
They, to draw her spirit nearer,
Crowned the Virtues deities.
Rome's great legislator vaunted
Wisdom of Egeria, gain;
And the conquering Roman, daunted,
Dared not stop the Vestal train.
When the Goth crushed out the Roman,
Sunk in sloth and dead in sins,
They were Goths who, honoring woman,
Battled brave as Paladins.
From this Teuton race descended,
Came the Knights of chivalry;
Woman and the Cross defended,
Men whose minds have made Mind free.

25

THE SHIPWRECK

From this Teuton lineage claiming,
Have we lost its noble blood,
Ever at the highest aiming,
Ever brave in doing good?
In the storms that shake a nation
Strifes where self must be controlled,
Can our free Men take their station
By those valiant Knights of old?
Hark! the signal gun repeating
Help! Help! o'er the surging wave;
Night and thunder tempest meeting,
Who the stately ship can save?
Furious winds, the ocean lashing,
Beat the ship as 'twere a rock—
Mountain billows break, and crashing
Down the masts go with a shock!

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Then red lightnings swept the waters,
Glaring o'er the shattered wreck;
Oh! our Country's sons and daughters
Crowded on that sinking deck!
Boat! the boat! hoarse voices shouted;
Then a clear, commanding cry—
It might stop an army routed—
Save the women! We will die.”
At the order bravely spoken
Silence on the tumult fell:—
As good soldiers stand unbroken
'Mid the storm of shot and shell;
As Rome's three, stood our three hundred
Firmer as the foe drew nigh;
Hope, all hope that order sundered—
Save the women! We will die.”

The Central America, running from New York to Aspinwall, left Havana for New York September 8, 1857. She was commanded by Captain William L. Herndon, U. S. N., an officer of tried courage and ability, celebrated for his exploration of the Amazon in 1851–2. A hurricane began blowing on the 10th of September, and on the 11th the Central America sprung a leak. The water poured in and extinguished the fires of the engines; and in spite of the exertions of the crew, the water gained gradually. On the 12th the storm increased, and the ship began to sink. At 4 P. M. the brig Marine, of Boston, hove in sight and lay to at one mile's distance. Captain Herndon gave the order “Save the women and children,” and they were sent off in the three ship's boats. The boats were unable to return. At seven o'clock another sail approached; but the storm, though fast subsiding, forbade assistance, and a few moments after the ship went down. The passengers and crew, all of whom were furnished with life-preservers, floated for some time in the water; but in the darkness they could not be picked up, and most of them, including the gallant captain, perished. A few who could swim were saved.

All the women and children, fifty-seven in number, were saved; and ninety-five men. Four hundred and twenty-seven were lost.



27

HERNDEN

Save! not queens of song or beauty;
Mother, daughter, sister, wife,
Saved by man's protecting duty,
All saved—strong men gave up life.
Hernden! Heroes' names unworded!
Women keep your memory;
In our hearts your deed recorded
Lives while ships shall sail the sea!
Hernden! Bards among our gifted
Set great names in glory's sky;
There thine own has been uplifted
By a deed that ne'er can die.
Thanks to Him who gave this Nation
Men who bear our flag abroad,—
Trust their Captain of Salvation,—
Serve their Country, serving God!

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Home and Country—Christ and Heaven—
Rightly used and understood,
Words of mighty power—God-given
Earth to save and man make good;
Guides to truth, and guards for glory,
Moulds for heart, and soul, and mind,
Weave these words in song and story,
They will serve all human kind:
Home—where parents form the nation,
Country—where our home must be,
Christ—the Lord of our Salvation,
Heaven—our blessed Eternity.
O my sister! wherefore reaching
Down to delve a place in earth?
Take thy better station, teaching
Hopes and thoughts of heavenly worth.

29

WOMAN'S POWER

Leave God's law of toil unbroken—
Man lives not by bread alone;
Good deeds done and kind words spoken
Make earth footstool for Christ's throne.
Ballot power is kept by muscle,
Men must guard in life or death;
Woman's power is like the rustle
Made by winds of summer breath;
Swaying tallest trees at pleasure,
Opening leaves, and buds, and flowers,
Moving earth like music's measure,
Bringing joy to toil's dark hours.
Man gives matter form and motion,
Blasts the rocks, and builds the home,
Maps the earth, and spans the ocean,
Calls the lightnings—and they come:—

30

Come to serve like force supernal,
Binding nations, linking seas:
Skill to make, by power Eternal
Given, gives right to govern these.
These are truths to guide our reason;
Whatsoever we may gain,
Toiling in or out of season,
Women still we must remain.
Sons, like forest trees, adorners
Of their country's strength must stand;
But its Temple's polished corners
Are the daughters of the land.
As in Art the grace of beauty
Has its use and value high,
Thus the excellence of duty
Brings its moral beauty nigh.

31

BEAUTY

Beauty, gift of God from heaven:
Stars, from angels' crowns of light;
Flowers, as angels' smiles, were given;
These for day, and those for night.
Earth by beauties twain was bounded,
Green below, and blue above,
That the life of God's love founded,
This revealed his light of love.
O my sister! do not banish
Beauty from the realm of Home;
Say not ornaments must vanish,
Woman's presence blank become!
Turn the flowers to autumn brownness,
Butterflies and birds to gray,
Make all earth of sober oneness,
Leave no light of joy or day!

32

Spare the rainbow hues to woman,
Colors dropped from God's own pen!
Write not thus the “Genus Human”
Shorn-haired, sober-suited men.
Say not “Woman” hath no meaning,
Hath no power or purpose great,
No self-progress, but is leaning
On the life-force of the state.
When the earthquake heaves the mountains,
Sinking cities in the deep,
Opening in the desert fountains,
Then a nation waked from sleep
Calls imperilled sons and daughters,
And they take their place aright;
These to save from ebbing waters,
Those to breast the billows' might.

33

CIVIL WARFARE

Thus a whirlwind on the ocean,
Sweeping tides like surging fate,
Hurled the storms of dire commotion
On the Pillars of our State.
One in falling broke another,
Some were bowed but did not yield:
'Twas the war where mourning Mother
Sought her dead on either field.
'Twas the war of Faith in Freedom
Lifting darkness up to light;
'Twas a war like doom of Edom
On his rock—to sink in night
Pride, that boasteth strength not given
By the righteousness of right;
'Twas the war of hero-leaven
When the people rise in might.

34

Brother Brother stood defying,
As if Mississippi's tide,
Though Niagara's power descrying,
Would its cataract override.
'Twas the hurricane embattled;
Valor like the lightning's stroke;
When the roar of thunder rattled,
Then the fiery vengeance broke.
'Twas the storm and night contending
Which could gloomiest make the gloom;
'Twas the cry of faith ascending;
'Twas the wail above the tomb.
Ask not names, where legions hurried—
Deeds, not names, their record give;
Flowers are strown above the buried,
And the living honored live.

35

WOMAN IN WAR

War! Oh, word of woful wonder!
Satan's synonym for sin,
Tempting man to seize God's thunder,
And the day of doom begin.
Hurling mountains o'er each other,
Making our fair land a grave,
Seemed the brother-war with brother!
—Love and Pity came to save.
Came—not as the stars of Heaven;
These are hid when storms enshroud:
Light from love and pity given
Brightens o'er the darkest cloud.
Albion sent (her wounded lying
Where blind Dandolo crowned his name)
The Nightingale to save the dying—
Crowned her flag with woman's fame,

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Shining o'er Crimean story!
As the moon the bright star pales;
Swords are dimmed by Pity's glory!
We had nests of Nightingales!

The services of American women during our civil war cannot be over-estimated; and we have but a few pages in which to tell the story, when it would require volumes. We must limit our narrative to a single city. Philadelphia is on the highway from the North to Washington, and regiments were passing daily in either direction. The forlorn condition of many of the soldiers excited universal sympathy and compassion.

The wife of a mechanic, who lived in the neighborhood of Washington Avenue (the great thoroughfare in Philadelphia for the soldiers), saw those tired and hungry men, who could not find means of refreshment in that place. She went forth into the street with her coffee-pot in her hand, and gave cups of hot coffee to the soldiers. This was found such a welcome refreshment, that the neighboring women imitated her example.

And so this great charity grew by gifts of coffee and food in the open street, until Mr. William Cooper gave his cooper-shop as the place for rest and refreshment. Soon it was changed into comfortable apartments, where good meals were served; still those noble women were there, ministering angels of this great establishment, ever ready to welcome, wait upon and work for the weary, hungry, and sick soldiers who needed such aid.

This was not all. A hospital was built, close at hand, by private funds of Philadelphia citizens: this, too, was under the care of the same kind women; although other ladies of wealth and culture had joined in the glorious charities of the hospital and cooper-shop. These self-sacrificing women ministered gratuitously, day and night, around the beds of the wounded, the dying, and the fever-stricken patients, who remained under their care until distributed into the Government hospitals: many who were too ill to be moved, died in this, their first place of reception, their last hours soothed, and their last wishes breathed to the pitying, weeping women as though they were their own mothers and sisters. Be it remembered, too, that all who came were welcomed alike to these charities—the Rebel and the Union soldier were tended with equal care.

It has been ascertained that in the four years of the war over twelve hundred thousand men were entertained in the Cooper-Shop refreshment saloons!

Near the Cooper-Shop was opened the “Union Volunteer Refreshment Saloon.” It went into operation May 27th, 1861, was finally closed December 1st, 1865, and torn down January 2d, 1866, not even a mark left in any way to designate the spot.

During this period, the receipts were estimated at about $130,000 in all, counting cash, sanitary stores, donations in provisions, etc.

From this fund, more than a million of meals were provided, not only for the soldiers, either in service or discharged, but for sailors, refugees, freedmen, and southern prisoners or deserters; no one who claimed their hospitality ever being turned away. All this was done by the voluntary offerings of the people, day by day, week by week, month by month, and year by year; the committee receiving no aid whatever from City, State, or General Government, but on the contrary, even declining an appropriation from our City Councils, on the ground that the generous hearts, which had so long sustained this noble work, desired to do so until the end.

Besides these there were in the same city several other large hospitals for the soldiers, where women served day and night as nurses and visitors; and throughout the country, millions of dollars were collected, and the proceeds distributed by women.


All the loving birds drew nearer
Places sad with blood and sighs,
From the little wren, home-cheerer,
To the birds of Paradise—
Came to succor sick and wounded,
When the trumpet's blast was heard;
Where the cannon's roar resounded,
There the carrier doves appeared—
Bringing food like prophet's raven,
Food the ebbing life to save,
Guiding weak souls to their haven,
Opening life beyond the grave.

37

All the loving flock came singing
Notes of home and hope—and faith,—
Those new strength to courage bringing,
This, the triumph over death.
Pitying Love, like soft wings fanning,
Knelt beside the soldier's bed,
And despair, his heart unmanning,
Conquered by his Saviour, fled.
Hospitals in camp and city
Welcomed in the Sister Band;
Love's good works and prayers of Pity
Made war's Sabbath in our land.
As the dove o'er Deluge waters
Bore the pledge of their decrease,
Thus America's good Daughters
Brought the love that leads to peace.

38

And their names will shine in glory
When our Chaucer chants the strain!
Mine but gives the rhythm to story,
“Love and Pity” the refrain.
One soft-tinted sketch revealing
Pity's power to conquer strife,
Power to foster patriot feeling;
Would my pen could give it life!
“Mother, mother! I am dying;
Mother, must I die alone?”
Moaned a pale young soldier lying
'Mid the dead, in broken tone.
“Call me mother,” whispered Pity,
Taking his cold hand: he smiled;
He was from a Southern city,
And a widow's only child.

39

Pity sighed—“Our Father sees us;
Come with me on wings of prayer;
Wafted to the cross of Jesus,
We shall meet your mother there.”
There he died, as falls the blossom
When the early spring frosts come;
Died—his head on Pity's bosom,
Whispering “Mother! Heaven! Home!”
Voices raised in jest or scoffing
Cease, or sorrow's toning take;
Pity, bowed above the coffin,
Kissed him for his Mother's sake.
Thanks to God! the war is ended:
All our Stars their courses run
In their Union-System blended;
And their glory—“We are One!”

40

Brother greeting meeteth brother—
Peace!” the watchword of the hours;
O'er war's dead of every mother
Love and Pity scatter flowers.
Peace hath storms that stir a nation—
Work and duty drive men wide,
Finding rest in their probation
But in Homes where women bide.
Oh, my brothers, have you pondered
What the woman's soul might do,
Were your bars of self-pride sundered,
That have kept its light from you?
Is it well that men should gather,
For their reason, wisdom's light—
Keep it hid with son and father,
Leave the mother mind in night?

41

THE REALM OF HOME

Wherefore stint illumination
In her wondrous realm of home!
Home, the life-source of the nation,
Whence its crowning glories come.
Sculptors shape the semblance human,
Make in marble mighty men;
Masters these—yet untaught woman
Hath a higher office, when
Manhood in its bud of being
On her bosom, at her will
Resteth; none save the All Seeing
Knows her power for good or ill.
Man through reason seeketh knowledge—
Earth's high places are his aim;
In the court, the camp, the college,
Power, rank, honors he would claim.

42

Woman, by the Spirit's teaching,
Sees the worth of things above;
Her instinctive conscience reaching
Love—Divine and human love.
Earth's great works of man's endeavor
Perish or in ruins lie
Woman's good works live forever—
She must build above the sky:
Sway her son, by wisdom's beauty,
Lusts and passions to command,
Form his mind for truth and duty
In his lot of life to stand.

“It strikes me dumb to look over the long series of faces, such as any full church, court-house, London-tavern meeting, or miscellany of men, will show there. Some score or two of years ago, all these were little, red-colored, pulpy infants; each of them capable of being kneaded, baked into any social form you chose.”—

Carlyle.

The Scotch philosopher has seen the great truth that the character of the man is moulded upon the influences around the child; but he does not add, what will strike our readers, that almost everything depends upon the mother; and that, by educating her, we secure a blessing for her son.


Can earth give in richer measure,
Price or praise for work well done,
Than the mother's wealth of pleasure
In her brave and worthy son?

43

WOMAN'S STATION

Then exalt the woman's station;
Let her love and duty come
Where the sexes hold relation
In their work for Heaven and home.
Open free the school and college,
Healer, Teacher let her be;
She should guard the founts of knowledge,
Keep their waters sweet for thee.
To her insight add thy science;

Congress has wisely donated public lands to every State in the Union that would establish an Agricultural College for young men. Thus our soil is to be cultivated on scientific principles. Is not science as necessary in perfecting the art of making good bread as it is in raising good wheat?

On the right ordering of households depend the health and comfort, the improvement and enjoyment of every human being. Does not the lady who presides over the duties and destinies of family life require the aid of a thorough education, mentally as well as morally, in order to be capable of using her faculties to the best advantage?

We need National Free Schools for Young Women. The design of these schools would be twofold:—

1st. To qualify young women for Teachers in Common or Free Schools.

2d. To train a competent band of young women and girls thoroughly to comprehend the nature and the requirements of all the occupations usually designated as womanly.

These subjects to be taught through lectures and practical lessons by competent and intelligent instructors, etc. The plan would require an arrangement on the family system, to be presided over by husband and wife as co-regents. A farm or grounds that allowed all the operations of Home Life in the country to be carried on, the dairy, cookery in all its branches, the laundry, the care of poultry, of the garden, kitchen, as well as flowers, plain sewing in all its branches, and, so far as possible, the care of the sick and whole economy of the household to be studied and understood. The accomplishments might be vocal music, dancing, calisthenics, riding on horseback, swimming, skating. The Schools, normal and preparatory, to give each scholar who continued through the course of four years, a thorough English education. And the crowning grace of these schools would be the pure Gospel principles of Christian morals and of life devoted to worthy aims and good works which the minds of these pupils would imbibe. Every young woman there trained would learn to serve God and her country, to love her home and the duties that make the beauty, the happiness, and the glory of home. She would go forth from such a seminary an accomplished teacher of this useful knowledge, and Schools of Domestic Science would soon adorn and bless our land, all aiming to increase the sum of human happiness, by improving home life, and thus exalting the position of woman while enlarging her sphere of usefulness.

We appeal to the generosity and to the justice of Congress. The plans and suggestions above are only offered to awaken the minds of wise legislators, and induce them to consider the subject of popular education in its national aspects, and we cannot but hope that the American Government will show the world that it is as ready to offer education, the best gift of the Republic, to its daughters as to its sons.


Give her soul thy light of mind;
Faith and reason in alliance,
Truth in fulness we shall find.
Reason, like the sun, enables
Mind its earthward path to prove;
Faith, like gravitation's cables,
Links the soul with Heavenward love.

44

Thus the dual human nature,
Gains its power to rise and shine.
Mind may mould heroic stature,
Soul uplifts it to Divine.
Then life's path lies straight before us,
Walled by hopes of life to come,
Eyes of truth and trust watch o'er us—
Heaven is neighbor to the home.
Husband, father, son, and brother!
Meet this doctrine face to face:
In the Christ, and by the mother
Ye must elevate the race.
Take this task on your strong shoulders:
Time waits not and change is nigh,
Though the way lead over boulders,
Over torrents surging high,

45

AMERICAN HOMES

Break the rocks, and breast the waters,
Work the plough, and wield the pen
In one faith—Exalt the Daughters,
They EXALT THE SONS OF MEN.
Then, America, move onward,
Gather truth's light as it comes,—
On thy Banner, swaying sunward,
Bear the motto—For Our Homes.

47

Illustration.

In the Old World's song and story
Rose and Nightingale had place;
Love's light gleamed on War's red glory,
—Knight and Lady joined the chase:
List a lay—O wonder rarest!
Theme the thoughtful mind to move,—
Of a world the newest, fairest,
Holding men unblest by love:

48

—Men whose souls ne'er gave expression
To a thought of angel kin,—
Where no tear for their transgression
From God's record washed the sin;
Where the mind to art and beauty
Dormant lay as polar life;
And the heart knew but one duty—
Stern endurance in the strife.

49

2. PART II.

LIFE WITHOUT LOVE.

Fifty lustres scarce are over
Since together here they stood—
White men—each a Bible-lover,
Red men—lords of wave and wood.
Fierce as panthers in their passion,
Fleet of foot as leaping deer,
Leading life in wild beast fashion,
Cold alike in love or fear.

50

They had spurned God's law of labor,
Stern as stoics stood alone,
Wanting neither home nor neighbor,
The wide Continent their own.
Was it theirs—God's wood and water
Where no good for men they wrought?
Feeding life on brute-life slaughter,
They nor prayed, nor toiled, nor thought.
Love and pity in their nature
Had been dwarfed or forced to die;
Self—proud self, had swelled its stature;
Each man's deity was—“I!”
They had crucified the woman,
Stamped their heel upon her heart;
Wrenched from out their own the human
And—Cain-like—they stood apart

51

THE INDIAN WOMAN

In their Upas law which smothers
Woman's heart of love—that when
Indian boys had beat their mothers
They might sit with Indian men!
Thus our fathers found the savage,
Thus his latest brood remain,
Eager still to roam and ravage—
As when lords of wood and plain.
Was it theirs to waste forever?
Theirs to bar the Christian's way?
The Worlds—New and Old—to sever?
God and Nature answered—“Nay!”
On they came—those pale-faced neighbors,
Levelling forests as they trod,
Gaining from their six days' labors
Strength to plant the House of God.

52

And the Sabbath day, as hallowed
In the Pilgrim's lore, will live,
Proving that God's laws, if followed,
Peace and place and power give.
Earth has tides like heaving Ocean;
And the New World's tide had come;
'Twas dead matter driven to motion—
'Twas like language to the dumb.
Forest dungeons swayed asunder;
Sunbeams woke earth's prisoned flowers;
Each new day brought forth its wonder—
Years were reckoned but as hours.
But the Red Men hated labor;
Scorned the arts of peaceful life,
Wanted not their pale-faced neighbor,
Loved their lot of savage strife,—

53

CHRISTIAN MEN

Freedom, like the eagle soaring
Wheresoe'er the prey is found,—
Battle, like the tempest roaring,
And all earth a hunting ground.
On they came, those many-sided,
Took this New World's tide at flow;
With one hand the plough they guided,
With the other fought the foe;
Gardened earth, and bridged the water
As great rivers were but rills,
While, with Hebrew pride, they scatter
Cattle on a thousand hills.
Toil with art they firmly married,
Law and Liberty made one:
Like strong fortress by storm carried
Christian men their work had done.

54

Still the red men fled before them,
Fought and fled—but yielded not,
Never drew our Banner o'er them,
Nor their hunting-grounds forgot.
Heaven-born love and human pity
In their conscience have been slain;
And in forest or in city
Savages they will remain.
See the Indian warrior prancing,
Decked in battle's fierce array,
Painted face, and red eyes glancing
Like a leopard's for the prey;
Eager as to hunter's banquet
On the blood of buffaloes,
Rides he now to deck his blanket
With the scalps of his white foes.

55

THE INDIAN

And his fancy frames the story
Of the trophies he may win;
And he shouts his song of glory,
Never dreaming murder Sin!
Spill his blood like poison-water,
Grind his bones your fields to till,
Would the dire avenging slaughter
Crush his pride, or curb his will?
Men of Law, wise statutes framing,
Have they won the savage race?
In his heart the tiger taming?
With us has he found a place?
Men of God, the Gospel preaching,
Have they drawn the Red Man near?
Does he, through their faithful teaching,
Worship God in love and fear?

56

Gone! all gone! no heir surviving,—
All who smoked Penn's pipe of peace;
Where Eliot prayed, a few are striving
For a life that soon must cease.
Cease! or let new light, imparted
By the Lord of Light above,
Melt and mould the iron-hearted
To His laws of life and love.
Savage men, the woman scorning,
Will they come to Christ—her Seed?
Not from midnight breaks the morning;
Softened light from heaven must lead.
Send thy Daughter to their daughters!
Send her like a carrier-dove!
As the sea-birds seek the waters,
Indian women seek for love.

57

POCAHONTAS

“Wife—my slave!” no softer wooing
Was her Indian lover's tone;
Out-door work—his work she 's doing,
Never taught to do her own.
Never sat her son caressing,
When his savage sire drew nigh,
Nor by kiss bestowed a blessing,
Never sang a lullaby!
We should seek the Indian maiden,
We should pay her holy claim,
Make her wild-wood home an Aïden,
Pocahontas, in thy name:
From thy savage tribe withdrawing
Love light, in their bloody strife,
And thy cruel sire o'erawing,
Thou didst save the Christian's life:

58

Then, on our white race bestowing
All thy light of love and truth,
Thou art ours, and we are owing
Christian aid to Indian Youth.
Send thy Daughter in her whiteness;
White in soul, and white of face,
Pure as Gospel star in brightness,
Christ's sweet minister of grace.
She will whisper words of cheering,
She will draw the children nigh;
Who her tender touch is fearing?
Who resist her loving eye?
Hark! she tells her Saviour's story,
Tells it low their souls to stir,
Of His cross, and of His glory,
Of His love for them and her.

59

WOMAN'S TEACHING

Woman's heart to theirs appealing,
Warms their dormant hearts to feel,
Moves their minds to meet her feeling,
As the magnet moves the steel.
Sacred truths in simple phrases
Heavenly things will best portray,
As the dew-drops on the daisies
Are the diamonds of the day.
To the light of truth and beauty
Bring the common things of earth;
Cheering hope and faith in duty
Thus in waiting souls have birth.
Man by knowledge wisdom preacheth,
Waking reason to admire;
Through Christ's love the Woman teacheth,
Kindling love as fire doth fire.

60

Thus the Indian women listen
To the love the Gospel brings,
And their eyes with soft tears glisten,
Flowing while the lady sings,
Sings the hymn than angels' sweeter,
Braided love divine and human;
Gospel set in simple metre,
Writ by man and sung by woman.
And the heathen clouds that darken
From the savage love Divine
Fade as these poor women hearken—
Till the cradle hymn they join.
Now the Lady—boys creep nigh her,
One red fist in her white palm—
Tells how David smote Golia'h,
Serving God by sword or psalm.

61

WOMAN'S TEACHING

Serving God—she pictures Heaven,
“Our Great Father lives above;
“From His love our good is given;
“We must give Him our good love.
“Loving Him, we love each other;
“Little birds in one nest stir,
“Oh! how glad to meet their mother,
“They love God in loving her.
“One young king—a Bible story—
“Solomon in all his pride,
“Crowned, and on his throne of glory,
“Placed his Mother by his side.”
Here the pictured scene displaying
In all rainbow colors fair;
To the boy beside her saying,
“Wouldst thou place thy mother there?”

62

Quick as light his eyes are lifting,
Meet her firm but gentle look,
Her white soul his dark soul sifting,
As the sunshine sifts the brook.
Like hot coals his red face flushes,
Love's sweet tears in her eyes stood;
Sudden—as swoln brook outgushes—
Came his answer: “Yes, I would.”
Oh! the flush of sympathizing
Joy that o'er her features stole—
Love Divine was thus baptizing
With its love this heathen soul.
Boys born savage, fighting, roving,
Shaping heaven on earth's poor plans,
Must be loved before they 're loving—
—Mother's love creates the Man's.

63

INDIAN WARS

Freemen, holding all men brothers!
Christians, holding God's Word true!
In Christ's faith, and by their Mothers,
Ye the red men can subdue.
Indian wars of fierce endeavor
To destroy the pale-faced race,
History will record, and ever
In our annals theirs have place.
Indian names adorn our glory
On the land and on the wave;
These will live in song and story,
Till our New World finds its grave.
While these living names we cherish
On the war-ship, on the State,
Shall the Indian children perish?
And the women share their fate?

64

We make room for every people,
All beneath our flag hold dear;
Faith is free by cross and steeple—
Shall the red race perish here?
Listen!
From our country—heart to border,
Walled by oceans' ebb and flow,
Christian love and patriot ardor
Thunder back the answer—“No!”
War makes warriors, but the hero
Is unveiled when war is done;
Sins make tyrants—Rome made Nero;
God's grace gave us Washington!
Faith in God will give us others
Clothed like him in righteous might,—
Men who, holding all men brothers,
Seek the good and serve the right.

65

CHRISTIAN HEROES

Sunlit stars, that falter never,
In their courses these will run,
Leading onward, upward ever
Toward their goal of Washington.
Heroes, following Christ in duty,
Will the Woman's wrongs redress,
Pave her path of faith and beauty
With their works of righteousness.
Let the Woman's weal protected
Be the test of manly worth,
And her goodness, thus reflected
Through the man's, will bless the earth.
Then America, while showing
Power and Peace linked hand in hand,
Will be rich to overflowing
With the best of every land.

66

Fifty lustres! On their pages,
Writ by light that Freedom shed
When it burst the dark of ages,
All our Record may be read.
We seek not the fabled fountains
Where the Old World fame is sought;
Here, the power that moves our mountains
Is the Book the white man brought.
From this Holy Bible Charter
Our Republic draws her breath,
And as Leader or as Martyr
Guards the BOOK in life or death.
Would we reach the highest station
By “the Word” our way we prove;
Christ's twin laws for man's Probation
Are Divine and human love.

67

POEMS.

In the year 1697, a body of Indians attacked the town of Haverhill, Massachusetts, killed and carried into captivity forty inhabitants. A party of the Indians approached the house of Mr. Thurston, who was abroad at his labor, but who, on their approach, hastened to the house, sent his children out, and ordered them to fly in a course opposite to that in which danger was approaching. He then mounted his horse and determined to snatch up the child with which he was most unwilling to part, when he should overtake the little flock. The sequel, as it occurred, is told in the poem. The scene of these events was the old homestead of the poet Whittier.


72

GREAT MEN.

1.

How old art thou?” the sage began;
—The boy, aroused from play,
Tossing his fresh-plucked flowers aside,
Sprang to his feet and gayly cried,
“I'm ten years old to-day;—
What long, long days! Oh, how I wish
The years would go away!”

2.

A blush of conscious eagerness
Athwart his bright face ran;
“Thou'lt find,” the sage went on to say,
“When manhood comes, a shorter day,
When age, that life 's a span.
What dost thou wish for now, my boy?”
“I wish to be a man.”

73

3.

“What would'st thou do, wert thou a man?”
“I would a traveller be;
And every curious thing I'd know,
And through all foreign lands I'd go,
And sail on every sea;
And I would visit mighty kings,
And they might visit me.”

4.

“But kings spurn common men.” The boy
Looked up with flashing eye:
“I thought that kings were good great men;
But I will be a monarch then,
And have a Palace high;
And none I see in all the world
Shall greater be than I.”

74

5.

“But greatness is not happiness;
My son, an emblem see—
How lovely grow these lowly flowers
How peacefully they pass their hours,—
While yonder lofty tree—
That soared so high to reach the sky—
Was scathed most fearfully.”

6.

The boy upon the blasted pine
Gazed long in sober thought.
“I'll pluck these flowers,” at length he cried,
“And they will die as that has died
And sooner, will they not?
Nor bud, nor flower, nor leaf, nor stem
Remain to mark the spot.”

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7.

“'Tis true,” the old man said, “'tis true;”—
His voice was low and mild;
“The hand of man or Heaven's decree
Alone can bow the great strong tree;
The finger of a child
Or foot of senseless brute comes nigh,
The flower is plucked or spoiled.

8.

“We prate of peace in lowly place
—'Tis not in place it lies,
Evil, whose shadow darkens earth,
Must perish in its place of birth!
But hope may seek the skies,
The good must tend to the All-good,
The soul that strives will rise.

76

9.

“Press on, my royal boy, press on!
As booklets form the flood,
The thoughts that swell the simple heart
May guide thee to a glorious part,—
But self must be withstood;
And hold thou fast thy boyhood's faith,
The Great Men are the Good!

77

THIRTY-FIVE.

I'm thirty-five, I'm thirty-five,
Nor would I make it less:
Each passing year has kept alive
Some bud of happiness.
Who would a single link undo
From memory's heart-strung chain,
And lose a sorrow, losing too
The love that soothed the pain?
Why should I count my youth a loss?
Its holiest hopes survive.
I know the fine gold from the dross
Now I am thirty-five.
I see the old moon softly rest,
Swathed in the new moon's rays,
And, cradled thus within my breast,
I hold my earlier days:

78

And gentle word and generous deed
Are living in my mind:
The planets, as they onward speed,
Ne'er leave their light behind.
And sufferings, like the dews of night,
That faded flowers revive,
Oh! I can value these aright,
Now I am thirty-five.
I know the young have hopes more bright,
Nor would I shadow these;
A wildering joy is in the light
That happy girlhood sees.
How sweet the rose-bud's lip of red!
How sweet the rose when blown!
But never till the leaves are shed
Is all their sweetness known.

79

My youth has fled as roses fade
Whose sweets may yet survive,
And these may gladden life's lone shade,
Now I am thirty-five:
And when my song of thirty-five
By smiling lips is sung,
And May and her fresh flowers arrive,
And all the world is young,
Oh, waste on me nor wish nor sigh,
But keep the shade in sight,
Where pale neglected flow'rets lie
I'm lifting to the light:
For in my heart, while Love Divine
Keeps human love alive,
The angel graces may be mine,
Though over thirty-five.

87

PLEASURE.

We all are children in our strife to seize
Each petty pleasure, as it lures the sight;
And like the tall tree, swaying in the breeze,
Our lofty wishes stoop their towering flight,
Till, when the aim is won, it seems no more
Than gathered shell from ocean's countless store.
Or, like the boy, whose eager hand is raised
To seize the shining fly that folds its wings,
We grasp the pleasure, and then stand amazed
To find how small the real good it brings!
The joy is in the chase—so finds the boy—
When seized, then he must loose it, or destroy.

88

And yet the child will have enjoyment true,
The sweet and simple pleasure of success;
He reasons not, as older minds would do,
How he shall show the world his happiness:
And, wiser than the crowds who seek display,
His own glad earnest purpose makes him gay.
And ever those who would true pleasure gain
Must find it in the purpose they pursue;
And even failure loses half its pain
If our own soul bear witness—we are true!
Oh, glorious meed! in seeking for the right
We find that clouds conceal, but never quench God's light.

93

IT SNOWS.

It snows!” cries the School-boy—“Hurrah!” and his shout
Is ringing through parlor and hall,
While swift as the wing of a swallow he 's out,
And his playmates have answered his call:
It makes the heart warm but to witness their joy—
Proud wealth has no pleasure, I trow,
Like the rapture that burns in the blood of the boy,
As he gathers his treasures of snow;
Then lay not the trappings of gold on thine heirs,
While health and the riches of nature are theirs.
“It snows!” sighs the Imbecile—“Ah!” and his breath
Comes heavy, as clogged with a weight;
While, from the pale aspect of nature in death,
He turns to the blaze of his grate;

94

And nearer, and nearer, his soft-cushioned chair
Is wheeled tow'rds the life-giving flame;
He dreads a chill puff of the snow-burdened air,
Lest it wither his delicate frame:
Oh, small is the pleasure existence can give,
When the fear we shall die only proves that we live!
“It snows!” shouts the Traveller—“Ho!” and the word
Has quickened his steed's lagging pace,
The wind rushes by, but its howl is unheard,
Unfelt the sharp drift in his face;
For bright through the dark storm his own home appeared;
Though leagues intervened, he can see
The clear, glowing hearth, and the table prepared,
And his wife, with her boy on her knee!

95

O Love! how it lightens the grief-laden hour,
To know that our dear ones are safe from its power.
“It snows!” says the Belle—“Dear, how lucky!” and turns
From her mirror to watch the flakes fall;
Like the first rose of summer her dimpled cheek burns
While musing on sleigh-ride and ball:
And visions of conquests, of splendor and mirth,
Float over each drear winter's day;
But the tintings of Hope, on this snow-beaten earth,
Will melt like the snow-flakes away:
Turn, turn thee to Heaven, fair maiden, for bliss,
That world has a fountain ne'er opened in this.

96

“It snows!” cries the Widow—“O God!” and her sighs
Have stifled the voice of her prayer;
Its burden ye'll read in her tear-swollen eyes,
On her cheek pale with fasting and care.
'Tis night—and her fatherless ask her for bread,
But “He gives the young ravens their food”—
And she hopes, till her dark hearth adds horror to dread,
And she lays on her last chip of wood.
Poor widow! That sorrow thy God only knows:
'Tis a pitiful lot to be poor when it snows.

101

GROWING OLD.

Growing old! growing old! Do they say it of me?
Do they hint my fine fancies are faded and fled?
That my garden of life, like the winter swept tree,
Is frozen and dying, or fallen and dead?
Is the heart growing old, when each beautiful thing
Like a landscape at eve, looks more tenderly bright,
And love sweeter seems, as the bird's wand'ring wing
Draws nearer her nest at the coming of night?

102

Is the Mind growing old, when with ardor of youth
Through the flower-walks of Wisdom new paths it would try,
And seek, not for shells from the ocean of Truth,
But the Pearl of great price, which the World cannot buy?
Is the Soul growing old? See, the planet of even,
When rising at morn, melts in glory above,—
Thus, turning from earth, we creep closer to Heaven,
Like a child to her father's warm welcoming love.
Does the mortal grow older as years roll away?
'Tis change, not destruction; kind winter will bring
Fresh life to the germ and perfect it. Decay
Holds the youth bud Immortal, and heralds its spring.

103

Growing old, growing old! Can it ever be true
While joy for life's blessings is thankful and warm,
And hopes sown for others are blooming anew,
And the rainbow of Promise bends over the storm?
Growing old, growing old! No, we never grow old,
If, like little children, we trust in the WORD,
And reckoning earth's treasures by Heaven's pure gold,
We lay our weak hands on the strength of the Lord.