USA > Indiana > Wayne County > Poems and sketches: consisting of poems and local history; biography; notes of travel; a long list of Wayne County's pioneer dead, also many names of those who lost their lives in defense of their country during the late rebellion > Part 3
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For lack of knowledge taught in common schools.
One son of Vulcan, with a noisy jaw, Assumes importance, to inspire with awe ; While Master Turner, with his swollen head, Is so inflated that his wits have fled.
And e'en "His Honor," like a chronic curse, Is ever scheming to do something worse ; A little conscience is a dangerous thing, And untaught minds a constant misery bring.
May fortune grant that when this rule shall end, Some wiser council may our needs attend - Men who have brains, ability and worth, And not abortions of ignoble birth.
MONDAY, JULY 10, 1893.
55
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
LINES,
Suggested by the death of an esteemed friend, in a neighboring city.
Once more we mourn the "loved and lost," The friend of earlier days, Whose winsome ways and loving heart Were themes of constant praise.
Hers was a soul sincere and true, Artless and free from guile, Making more happy all she knew, With charmed speech and smile.
No group of friends was e'er complete Without her presence there, To lend its hallowed influence - sweet As incense to the air.
In later years, when duty's cares Came, as our cares will come,
She was as sunlight to the home, And to complaint was dumb.
A helping hand was ever hers To lend, in times of need - No thought of toil such souls deters - She was a friend, indeed.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
And when affliction sore befell, And weary days of woe - With suffering, only she could tell And only she could know ---
It was her last sad trial here, Ere rest, eternal, came :
She bore it with a martyr's cheer. She bore it in His name.
In peace and rest her weary breath, Like sighing zephyrs, fled ; She hailed the change - which we call death - They tell us. She is dead.
OCTOBER 29, 1894.
Mrs. Lida Johnson died at Indianapolis yesterday, after a prolonged illness. She was a sister-in-law of Calvin R. Johnson, and a daughter of the late Benjamin W. Davis. Mrs. Johnson's early home was in Richmond. and her acquaintances are many .- October 25, 1894.
57
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
THE TOILER'S LAMENT.
Have I been born a life-long slave, To labor in the sun - To work from morn till dewy eve, And still be never done ?
Can I ne'er have release from toil, Or get a rest from care ? Must I keep on this tread-mill round, And have no time to spare ?
I have no leisure of my own To think or even pray -- I simply am a slave for bread, And have been, day by day.
I am a thing for others' use, To bow at their behest - The servant of some lordling's power, Without release or rest.
Will not the fates increase my store, To free me from this yoke - If not on this, some kindlier shore, My lot, at last, revoke ?
58
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Or am I doomed to live a slave, To work through storm and sun, And toil from morn till dewy eve, And still be never done ?
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 3, 1894.
MARCH.
"Its fickle fancy ranges, And knows of naught but changes."
To-day it snows, a chill wind blows - 'Tis Winter in the Spring ; The day before we did adore The sun's warm shimmering -
At sixty-five (as I'm alive) The mercury stood, serene ;
At twenty-eight to-day, we state, The temperature is seen.
With changeful strife the times are rife, And prone to wayward ways ; We love them not, for hard the lot Of humans in these days.
MARCH 15, 1893.
59
POEMS AND SKET TIES.
MASTER WILLIE MAY.
Suggested by his photo.
Ho ! bright little elf, in a duplicate self, Thou miniature image of man ; Thou copy in photo, thou shadow in toto, Thou hindrance to peace and to plan.
We love thee most dearly, we love thee sincerely, Thou restless young creeper and crawler ;
But when thou wouldst master, we look for disaster, For mighty art thou as a squaller.
A conqueror, truly, and often unruly,
We sometimes are wholly confounded ;
Anon thou art playful and civil and, truly, Thy goodness of heart is unbounded.
Thou joy of the household, thou symbol of love, And a master of mischief, forsooth, We pet thee and spank thee, by turns, little dove, For fretfully cutting a tooth.
FEBRUARY 26, 1894.
60
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
EARLY SPRING.
How delightful in Spring,
When the sun's cheerful rays Invite us to wander O'er meadows and " braes."
How elated the soul, As we gaze on the scene : The earth newly robed In a vestment of green ;
Loudly thrilling their notes To the Being of Love, Happy warblers unite With the plaint of the dove ;
Little rills, as in gladness, Go bounding along, Gayly threading the vale With a murmuring song ;
While tiny flowers peep From the earth, broken up,
Exhaling perfume From each fairy-like cup.
61
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Oh! Who can behold Such an Eden as this, And feel that the world Was not formed for his bliss ?
A dreamy delight - Far beyond my control, As I look upon Nature - Steals over my soul !
FEBRUARY, 1852.
CREATION'S HEIRS.
There is not anything that God has made That should be hidden or should make afraid, Of all the mysteries of all the years, In this, our world, or e'en the distant spheres : For we are His, and His creation ours, And all co-workers, whom his bounty dowers.
We are His children, and our Father He- From Him we came and unto Him we flee ; Formed in His image, as Himself declares, We are His only and Creation's heirs.
SEPTEMBER 24, 1895.
62
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
A PUBLIC WEDDING AT OLD PEARL STREET M. E. CHURCH.
[ The building was an old, one-story frame structure. with two front doors - and for many years has been doing duty as a third class dwell- ing, on the west side of South Tenth Street, near Main. The contracting parties were highly respectable citizens, but for prudential reasons the names are not given. He is, however, a wealthy manufacturer, and the " best man " a flourishing banker, of Knightstown, in this State. No tickets of admission were required in those days, and the performance was open to all. The description following is literally true.]
I sat amid a waiting throng ; Silence reigned profound and long ; Every optic nerve was strung, And auditory fibres rung ;
While, ever and anon, the shout : " They come ! They come !" was heard without.
In gay and glee, a happy pair - The bride, the fairest of the fair -
Were seen to cross the threshold o'er, Succeeded by some couples more. They passed adown the spacious aisle To meet the parson, who, the while,
Arose, in sanctimonious mood, To meet the groom and "ladie goode." Attendants stood on either side, To see the " nuptial knot " was tied.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
When all was o'er, and "Hymen's bands" Were linked about their gentle hands, They bowed in silence, and withdrew, To where no vulgar eyes could view,
Nor meddling spirits interpose Annoyance to the heart's repose. * Angelic love - most heavenly flame, Whose mission is to soothe and tame The wildest passions of the breast, And calm them into perfect rest- Mayst thou forever hold thy sway, And never pass from earth away.
MARCH 3, 1850.
WHEN LIFE IS YOUNG.
When life is young, and joys forever new Succeed each other in the distant view, The fancy pictures images ideal, Stamps them perfection and proclaims them real.
But as we wander on, through weary years, Scathed and neglected, and bedewed with tears, We, all too soon, shall comprehend the truth That fiction mingles in the dreams of youth.
NOVEMBER 10, 1861.
64
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
A WAIL AT THE WEATHER.
[ Suggested by the remarkable gloom of March, which was supple- mented by severe cold and snow, lasting to the 7th of April, 1891.]
Sol's genial ray doth oft display Its fervor in the Spring, But in this year hath lent no cheer, Nor kindly offering.
But clouds, instead, in gloom, have shed Their tears, in rainy sadness, Till man, distressed, hath been depressed, Impatient, unto madness ;
While Phœbus' car still rides afar, And frost and snow prevail, And song of bird is rarely heard, But chilling winds assail.
No floral forms yet dare the storms That bluster round the world, But seek repose beneath the snows, With scarce a leaf unfurled ;
Nor bud of tree, as yet, we see Expanded into bloom, But seem as dead as life were fled, Imprisoned in a tomb.
65
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
We prithee, sun, thy course to run, And shed thy genial rays, So we may feel not woe, but weal, As in the former days ;
For thou art life, and life were strife Without thy influence shed, And this fair world, from sunlight hurled, Must soon be dark and dead.
APRIL IO, 1891.
ENIGMA.
I am seen in the air, Though in earth I am not, Save " beautiful Erin," That " bonnie, bright " spot.
The Indian's fair bride, In her merriest glee, Proudly calls me her own As I be ! As I be !
66
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
I have ne'er been in love, Though its victim I am, Contending for beauty, Or bearing the palm.
But, with the glad victor, And in his bright shield, I am seen to stand forth In the midst of the field.
I know not the foe, But in strife I advance, With an arm that is strong, And an uplifted lance.
I am found, it is said, With the patriarchs old, Immingled with virtues That never were told.
While mistress and maiden Each give me a part In all their affections, And choice of a heart.
Now, reader, be kindly, And tell me my name, And thou shalt be sharer In all of my fame.
JANUARY 9, 1849.
67
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
TO ONE DEPARTED.
- -
The storm of life is o'er, and death has closed the scene ; Remorseless time has rent the viewless chain Which coupled earth and old eternity and main, And thou art launched upon the dark unseen.
No mortal eye hath e'er beheld the future, And yet, alone, thou goest forth to seek its shores. Beware ! Or thy frail bark may founder, and no more Return to harbor. Have thou all secure ;
For we have never kenned what lies beyond the vale, Nor will we ever, till the spirit's boundless flight, Unloosed from thraldom, doubt and brooding night, Hath seen afar some fleet of heavenly sail.
O ! May'st thou safely reach the shores of that fair stream,
Where joys eternal ever shine and loom Like noon-day suns, to dissipate the gloom, Or stars of promise, 'mid the soul's effulgent gleam.
May heaven's high King receive thee to His fold, And grant thee all the pleasures of the hosts above ; Where thou canst praise Him for His boundless love And mercies infinite, by mortal tongues untold.
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 22, 1854.
68
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
RANDOM THOUGHTS,
Suggested by a thunder-storm, attended with hail and rain, during the night of January 28th, 1893.
Mid lightning's flash and thunder's crash, The hail and rain descended,
And spread its stormy deluge far, As light and darkness blended.
The snow, which lay for many a day, Heaped on the frozen ground,
In haste departed on its way To river and sea and sound.
Farewell ! and may it not return, To chill us with its greeting,
For its cold presence we shall spurn, And shrink from such a meeting.
We long for Summer's sun again, With genial airs of heaven,
To woo, with zephyr's soft refrain, The birds and flowers, at even'.
Happy, indeed, our lives should be Were sunshine never-ending - A paradise for thee and me, Around the world extending :
69
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Where birds are always on the wing, And flowers are ever blooming ; Where tuneful souls delight to sing, And know no cares, consuming.
Pray Heaven to grant a realm like this - Where peace and love are dwelling - That we may revel in endless bliss, Beyond the power of telling.
JANUARY 28, 1893.
LINES TO A BELATED GRASSHOPPER,
Found stranded on the chilly confines of Autumn, Wednesday, November 26, 1890. Mercury 34", and a very miserable day.
Pray, Mister Grasshopper, why tarry here ? The summer is gone, and the winter is near. You'd better seek shelter away from the cold, Or hie to the South, would you live to be old.
The winds from the north will soon silence your song,
And you cannot expect to live here very long ; For the frost is a mighty destroyer of hosts, And you insects will all be converted to gliosts.
70
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
So get you away, and go hence, where you came, If you wish to preserve your existence and name. We cannot encourage the presence or stay Of wand'ring intruders, who seek only prey ; So take to your wings, and away and away ! And return not again for a year and a day !
THE WORLD A THEATRE.
Night's radiant lamps illume The firmament on high, And earth, the mighty theatre, Has for its dome the sky.
Upon its monster stages All mankind, arrayed
For ages upon ages, Have each their parts displayed.
Some acts are worthy of their authors, Some are not ; The better will survive all time, The worse be soon forgot.
A. D. 1850.
71
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
TO EVAN WRIGHT,
Who was a fellow-clerk of the writer's boyhood days, with the dry goods firm of Strattan & Wright, of this city. Mr. Wright was a very estimable young man, and died of consumption -the result of too close application to business.
Fare thee well ! departed spirit, God to thee has given More than all the joys of earth - Eternal life in Heaven.
Troubles more shall ne'er assail, Nor pains of sickness ever, For thou hast made thy home the sky, And earth shall know thee never.
The angel hosts shall welcome thee, High in that holy place, Where naught but mercy, truth and love And happiness we trace.
Sin is unknown in that bright sphere, And sorrow cometh not ; Nor passions, to distract the soul, Which are a mortal's lot.
72
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Then fare thee well ! departed one, For God to thee has given Far more than all the wealth of earth - A home with him in Heaven. APRIL 22, 1849.
LINES
Suggested by a visit to " Forest Home," the country seat of Benjamin and Emily Strattan, whose many kindnesses to the writer can never be forgotten.
Old Time's resistless car may speed, And crown the world with many a deed, Ere we shall all have left this sphere, And all the heart holds sacred here.
Our days may reach the utmost span Appointed to the years of man, And compass many a round of joy, Unmixed with aught of care's alloy.
But few shall be more bright than this, More fraught with hallowed dreams of bliss ; Long may our recollections glow With memories of this long ago.
JANUARY 1, 1855.
73
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
TOIL ON.
Toil on, toil on, for thy life and inine Were but idle gifts, were they left supine. Then work, and of wealth, to a bounteous store, Shall fortune on thee, from her treasury pour.
And the idle may gaze, in their wonder, at will, And envy thy riches, in idleness still ; Whilst thou hast laid up, like the provident bee, Good store for the winter of life - as we see.
They, thoughtless and negligent, shrouded in rags, Whose tatters shall flaunt in the breeze - filthy flags, Fit emblems of beggarly wretches- whose hours Were wasted in idleness, earning no dowers.
Then mock not my efforts at striving to win A name and life's comforts - it is not a sin. I'd scorn to be idle -'tis a shame of such dye, "Tis alone fitly kin to deceit and a lie.
Let me labor, while life and my health me are given, That when I have passed this sad vale into heaven, I may do so all conscious of duty fulfilled, As the Maker designed and the Master has willed.
JANUARY 27, 1856.
74
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
A DOGGEREL ON A DEPARTED CANINE.
[ This poem refers to a favorite terrier, the property of a neighbor, who prized him very highly for his many good qualities. The dog became domoralized and vicious through the acts of mischievous urchins, who would torment him in passing, and who afterward poisoned him.]
Alas ! and alack ! for the manes of poor Jack ; He has gone to his dreamless repose ; He peacefully yeilded his breath, at his death, And surrendered his checks at the close.
He faithfully served his kind keepers in life, Though some of his traits were displeasing ; His barking propensities led into strife With impish young urchins, for teasing.
But even poor humans may err, and a cur Is surely not better than they ;
Then why should we stress his few faults, which were less Than some we commit ev'ry day.
So, a truce to his weakness - at times he had meekness Quite up to the mark of his betters :
He was playful and civil, a good-natured " divil,"
Sans tricks, or a knowledge of letters.
75
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Farewell, to his dogship ! His voice never more Shall awaken our slumbers at even ; But instead, may be lieard on Plutonian shores, Dog Island, or Mount of Ben Nevin.
OCTOBER 21, 1875.
IMPROMPTU LINES,
Suggested by an old bonnet, once the property of Mrs. Grace Vansant, made in 1838, and exhibited by the writer at a meeting of the Historical Society, held in the new court house, Saturday, May 20, 1893.
Full fifty years ago in style ; Pray do not curl the lip or smile ; For she who wore me then, like you, Was happy, for my form was new.
But time, resistlessly as fate, Puts all we cherish out of date ; And that fair hat you wear to-day, Will scarcely see its fiftieth May.
MAY 20, 1893.
76
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
TO AN ABSENT BROTHER,
For some years resident at New Orleans, Louisiana.
Dear brother, shouldst thou chance to see These lines - from one you love - I ask that thou remember me, In palace, hall, or grove.
Though time and distance sever us, The joy may yet be ours To meet on life's broad stage once more, 'Mid childhood's vernal bowers.
Should stern misfortune be thy lot, Or sickness, cold, attend, Be humble, for Jehovah will, In love, the meek befriend.
Then fare thee well ! my brother dear, Till we shall meet again ; That health, prosperity, be yours, My prayer is - Amen !
OCTOBER, 1847.
77
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
THE CHASE. .
" A little nonsense, now and then, Is relished by the best of men."
Albicore, in wondrous haste, Sped away, across the waste ; In pursuit went horse and hounds, With accelerating bounds ; Allectation being great, Each has sought to know his fate. Herpetologists are they, Yet they scarcely dare to stay, But pursue their chase so far That fatigue and many a scar Has unfitted them to go Otherwise than sure and slow. Pabulum is what they need, Both the rider and the steed ; Peonity, to drive ahead, Left them less alive than dead.
[ See Webster for definitions. ]
FEBRUARY 20, 1895.
78
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
A SABBATH AFTERNOON IN SUMMER.
What stillness broods on all around ! How dead the silence seems !
Its depth is fathomless ! no sound Is heard, though Nature teems
With life : the Sabbath reigns supreme, And sheds its holy influence far As Andes' peaks -'neath sunlight's gleam - Or distant Alps, or twinkling star.
SUNDAY, JULY 20, 1856.
A FRAGMENT.
Dear brother, how often I think of the past,
And muse o'er the pleasures it brought us ; The many fair dreams that we fancied in youth, And the frost-work of bliss that was wrought us.
I sigh, when the images dearly beloved, That in childhood so fondly we cherished,
Arise in my mind, and present to my view But a wreck of the hopes that are perished. A. D. 1851.
79
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
MUSINGS.
I sigh to see the changing leaf, For Autumn days are here ; I sigh to know that life is brief, And age is drawing near.
'Tis sad to know that wintry winds Will come at Nature's call ; 'Tis e'en more sad to know that Death O'er Nature spreads its pall.
Our lives are all a fleeting show ; No lasting joys are given ; We dwell amid fair scenes below, But soon fond ties are riven.
The leaf that now is sere, was green, In Summer's early time ; The aged man we just have seen, Was youthful in his prime.
But soon, alas ! the years go by, And soon the young grow old : For ev'ry living form must die, And mingle with the mold.
80
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Let us so live that when our years Have reached life's utmost span, We may triumphantly go hence, Obedient to His plan.
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1892.
IMPROMPTU LINES TO MARCH.
Thou art a most unlovely month, Whose elemental strife Afflicts us, through the day or night, With dire experience rife.
Sunshine to-day, to-morrow rain, With wind and storm the next, Alternate, with their sad refrain, Till all mankind are vexed.
Thank heaven ! Thy race will soon be run, Thy iron rule be o'er ; And sleet and snow and gloom be done, And nature smile once more.
THURSDAY, MARCH 26, 1891.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
TO ONE AT REST.
M. A. E.
Thou dear departed, fondly loved - For many a year at rest - Thy soul long sought its last repose, Forever to be blest ;
Vet, countless times since thou hast gone Have I remembered thee : By night and day, in crowds and lone, Thy form has haunted me.
Thy absence here has left a void Which none can ever fill As thy deft hand and brain were wont When thou wert with us still.
Thou wert so good and true and kind - Thy worth no words can tell : Thy even-tempered, noble mind None living could excel.
Thou didst a hallowed influence slied, As roses shed perfumes, And though thy spirit long has fled, Its incense ne'er consumes.
82
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
We ofttimes pray to be with thee - Lone, wandering here below - And when, at last, from life set free, May we each other know :
Such is my earnest, fond desire - Naught else could lend such bliss - And to that end my hopes aspire,. In climes more fair than this.
MARCH 10, 1894.
EARLY AUTUMN.
-
How sadly and mournfully sighs the soft breeze, As it lightly disports with the leaves, Like one who in sorrow bewaileth a friend - The Autumn wind seemingly grieves.
Alas ! It may well, for the Summer is gone, With its bright sunny face, and its flowers ; The garden is changed to a desolate spot, Where so often I lingered for hours.
83
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
E'en while I discourse, I can feel the rude blast - Which so lately was balmy and bland - At first like the delicate touch of a friend, Anon like some rude, clutching hand.
The breeze, which so late seemed a whispering sigh, Has passed over valley and hill, To return, with the boreal blasts of the North, With a breath that is icy and chill.
·
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER IO, 1854.
COULD PRAYERS AVAIL.
Could prayers avail to liasten Spring, And usher in its sunny days - Methinks it very long delays - I'd leap for joy, and shout and sing.
It seems so chill to see the snow - A cold, white mantle on the ground - The landscape looks so dreary round ; The spirits feel no genial glow.
S4
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Thank Heaven, delay cannot be long - The sun seems warmer even now ; And folks will soon begin to plow ; And birds, in glee, renew their song ;
The grass grow green, the flowers bloom, The trees put forth the budding leaf - And may the time be very brief When all the air will be perfume.
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 1894.
THE DAY WE CELEBRATE.
The glorious Fourth was ushered in With rush of rocket, skyward sent, And cannons' roar, and crackers' din, While Babel sounds with those were blent : Huzzas and shoutings, born of glee - The soulful language of the free.
The people, in their might, appeared, To manifest their joy, once more, For Liberty - whose tree was reared By patriots on these happy shores ; With joyful hearts, they thus expressed How we, through freedom, have been blessed.
85
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Long may we keep the sacred trust To us confided by our sires - Whose forms have crumbled into dust, But whose brave deeds still prompt these fires ! Let each returning natal day Find 110 less fervor and display !
And long was kept the revel going. Blue lights, and red, that flash and flare, Lit all the heavens aflame and glowing, While smoke, like incense, filled the air. Away ! away ! dull care, away ! Glad millions celebrate to-day.
JULY 6, 1895.
MARCH IITH, 1896,
Brought the heaviest and most persistent snow of the season.
.
And still and still and still it snows, And still and still and still it blows, And thus and thus and thus it goes In Winter's cheerless time.
86
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
· Alas ! alas ! alas ! how cold, And bleak and bleak and bleak the wold, As I, as I, as I am told, In all this North-land clime.
O, haste ! O, haste ! O, haste ! dear Spring ; Come birds, come birds, come birds, and sing : And Flora, Flora, Flora, bring Thy glorious train, to charm the year.
Shine out, shine out, shine out, O ! sun, Till frost, till frost, till frost be done, And light and heat are well begun, And longed-for Summer here.
MARCH 11, 1896.
PASSING AWAY.
Lo ! the days pass away, and the seasons decay, While the years bear us speedily 011, Like the tireless waves when the mad ocean raves. Which arise and subside, and are gone.
Our youth, like a dream or a phantom, doth seem So brief in its glory and bliss,
For 'tis scarcely attained until bound and enchained To some duty it cannot dismiss.
87
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
We plod day by day our life's rugged way, With the hope of reward and return, Till the joys of desire, with our forces, expire, And leave but the ash and the urn.
All weary and worn, with a spirit forlorn, We welcome the earth as a mother :
Our form 'neath the sod, and our soul with its God, We rest from life's turmoil and pother.
JULY 26, 1895.
I KNOW NO MISANTHROPIC HOURS.
I know no misanthropic hours - I have no hatred for my kind : God's love is everywhere, and ours Should not be to ourselves confined.
All men are brothers in this world ; All women should be sisters, dear : And over all should be unfurled · Love's sacred banner, with its cheer.
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