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 4
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Why should we envy those in power ? Why should we hate the man of wealth ? To him who strives, some honest dower May come, by labor, void of stealthi.
The world is wide enough for all - No conflict need arise to me ; We should not soar that others fall, Nor hamper others' liberty.
His blessings every soul enjoys, Without a stint, or limit given,
L'et man his fellow-man annoys, By evil schemes not born of Heaven.
Good will, at least, if not great love, Is due to every mortal man : It is not much, but Heaven above Includes it in her mystic plan.
Then let not misanthropic hours, Nor even moments, thus controlled, Subject thee to its evil powers, But let love rule- that is pure gold.
OCTOBER 14, 1895.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
OLD LETTERS.
A True Story.
" Old letters, old letters ; lo ! what have we here ? A name for each friend and a date for each year ; Old time-eaten records-lo ! how they recall The memory of kindred, friend, lover, and all."
Here is one that was written in "thirty-three " - It is yellow with age, as yellow can be ; The paper is rough, without sign of a rule, And is folded and sealed in the primitive school.
The modern envelope and stamp were unknown, So it had to go forth on its journey alone : The missive was written ten miles away,* And posted at Richmond, with little delay.
The charges were high in the early time, For postage upon it is marked a dime ; Its destiny hence was Yellow Springs, i And three days' travel a message brings.
The times were slow, and the roads were bad, And the gift of a letter was rare and glad ; The sender thereof, long absent from home, Now writes to a sister for news, to come.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
He says he is lonely, unhappy and "blue," Vet his prospects are good, with plenty to do ; But somehow a restless condition of mind Will afflict him at times, however inclined.
He declares his intentions, if all goes well, To make the acquaintance of some Hoosier belle ; With more of the sort, in a gossiping way, But little to interest us of to-day.
A letter that follows- of "thirty-six "- Shows that he yielded to Cupid's tricks ; And one, that was dated in "thirty-eight," Tells how the baby had walked of late.
Long since, all the parties hereto concerned Unto God and His keeping their souls returned ; And the baby above, in her after life, Became to the writer a loving wife.
Thus Time, on his tireless pinions, doth fly - To-day we are here, and to-morrow we die ; We act our brief parts as they fall to our lot, Depart and go hence, to be gone and forgot.
*Near Abington, Wayne county. +Yellow Springs, near Springfield, Ohio.
MARCH 14, 1894.
91
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
EARLY SPRING.
Farewell ! Clouds and storms of Winter, Spring returning breaks thy chains ; Smiling sunbeams loose thy fetters, And in air dissolves thy reign.
Sweet and dewy exhalations Greet us from the fields around,
While the distant forest echoes And re-echoes joyous sounds.
Music made by feathered minstrels - - Songsters of the upper air - Happy in their vocal praises, Free, alike, from toil and care.
Shrub and floweret rise in gladness From the teeming mother earth ; Cheered by ray divine, of Phœbus, .
Nourished by her into birth.
Praise we then the Gracious Giver For his bounties, manifold ; Resurrected life rejoiceth, That it never groweth old.
MARCH, 1850.
92
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
MY LOVE AND I.
Just two score years ago to-day - It seems not half so long - Since we assumed life's wedded ways. Happy as birds of song.
Our lives were fair, and not a cloud Obscured the love that shone ; A buoyant hope our souls endowed, For cares were all unknown.
Thus we set forth on times broad sea, Our faith in each was strong ; We prayed for health -our only plea - And that our lives be long.
Ours was a charming cot and grounds, With fruits of various kinds, Embowered with vines within its bounds, And flowers by heaven designed.
Our home a joyous Eden seemed, Contentment made us blest ; Our lives were all we e'er had dreamed, Each evening gave us rest.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Success attended all we did, No effort proved in vain ; The road to fortune ne'er was hid, The way seemed broad and plain.
Thus year on year went swiftly by, In labor, love and joy, With not a tear, nor e'en a sigh, To add to life's alloy.
At length a direful day arose, When all our hopes were high ;
Il1-health disturbed our fond repose - A fiend of evil eye.
It came as with a stealthy tread, Scarcely observed or seen - A thief, ill-omened, all may dread My love and self between.
She was the shining mark it sought, And claimed her for its own - Such priceless jewel gold ne'er bought - - Such blight we ne'er had known.
She sickened, and for many a day, Un-murmuring, bore her woes With more than human fortitude, Till came at length the close.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
That was a sad and hapless day, When she passed hence from life, Compelled to tread death's cheerless way - My own dear, cherished wife.
Since then we oft remember her As one long laid to rest : A soul too pure for this cold world - Loved, sanctified and blest.
FEBRUARY 14, 1895.
LINES TO A BUTTERFLY.
Poor little butterfly ! So weary and cold ! Brief was thy summer's day, And soon it was told !
The cheer of the sunshine, The bloom of the flowers,
Delight thee no longer, In Autumn's chill hours.
And alas ! Nevermore Wilt thou flit o'er the fields,
Or seek in the rosebud The nectar it yields.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
The clover is blighted, The wild-flower is dead ; The forest is leafless, Its beauties are fled.
But the sheen of thy wings, And thy glorious flight, Were the regalest things That e'er gave me delight.
And thy memory ever We fondly shall cherish - A vision of beauty That never can perish.
A spirit of gladness, A joy to the heart -
We quit thee with sadness, Forever to part.
Thy journey is ended, Thy day-dreams are o'er ;
Thy flight is suspended - Farewell, evermore !
'Tis the story, in brief, Of the great and the small : We all have our day, And the end comes to all.
NOTE. - The aforesaid butterfly had fallen to the walk, beside the honse. benumbed by the cold.
NOVEMBER 1, 1890.
96
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
WHEN FIRST WE MET.
Impromptu Lines to Mattie.
'Tis true I loved thee dearly then, But, O ! I love thee better now, And trust, supported by His will, To keep through life the sacred vow.
I feel thou art too good for me -- Deserving more than I can give - But if thou wilt but trust in me, I'll love and serve thee while we live.
I know no happier hours than those Which swiftly sped when at thy side : Each moment seemed so fraught with joy, For thou hast been my only pride.
O ! may we long enjoy that bliss - The brightest boon to mortals given ; That love which springs from kindred hearts - The utmost wealth this side of Heaven !
FEBRUARY 19, 1855.
97
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
RETROSPECTION.
When we remember all- The past of by-gone years - Fond memory doth recall, Our eyes are filled with tears.
How thoughtless childhood fled, With all its cares and joys ; The hopes and fears now dead, Since we were careless boys.
How youth advanced apace, And aspirations wild Took boyish fancies' place, And we ignored the child.
At length, to manhood brought- At least so told the years- A goal we long had sought, Upon life's way appears.
New duties now devolved Upon our manhood's powers ; Nor could we be absolved Through all its weary hours.
98
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Life's conflict now was on, Its labors had begun ; And ere the day was gone, A victory must be won.
We strove with faith and prayer, We labored long and true, The world's success to share, And crown our hopes anew.
The end was blest, in part, With worldly wealth and store ;
But oh ! alas ! fond heart, What disappointments sore !
The friends we loved have passed, Beyond our mortal ken, To peace, at least, at last, Out from the homes of men.
Fond hopes we once enjoyed, Of long continued bliss, Were blasted or alloyed - So we the dream dismiss.
Thus have we wrought and sought ; Thus have we lived life's day ; . Much of our gain was naught, Nor do we long to stay.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
A few brief years of care, Spiced with a joy or pain, And we shall sojourn where None will return again.
The morn of life is hope, The noon is care and toil ; Its eve hath little scope, But endeth all turmoil.
JUNE 13, 1893.
JUST AS THY NATURE URGES.
Just as thy nature urges, weep or smile, Yet let not faults nor follies thy true heart beguile ; If sunshine enter, let thy soul bestow Some marks of favor, lest it quickly go.
If shadows wing their way across thy path, Let sadness hold its sway, instead of wrath ; But through all seasons and all coming times, May joy-bells cheer thee with their happy chimes.
FEBRUARY 21, 1893.
340284B
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
CRINOLINE.
We are coming, Flora Flimsey, We are coming right along ; We are coming, Flora Flimsey, Full an hundred thousand strong.
We are coming with a hustle, We are coming in great troops ; We are coming in a bustle, We are coming with our hoops.
We are coming, dearest Flora, We are coming like a storm ; We are coming, very mighty, We are coming to reform.
'And you'll be glad to see us- With an awful swell and dash - For ev'ry sister's soul of us Is bound to make a mash.
· The men will all go crazy When they see us in our skirts ; It will make them feel so mazy - We're a jolly set of flirts.
101
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
We will capture all the women, And we'll captivate the men ; And when we've captured everything We'll change the fashion, then.
But we'll never cease our striving After novelties and men, Till we convert the masculines To Crinolines again.
MARCH 2, 1893.
MEMENTO MORI.
A Double Acrostic.
Mysterious, unknown realM
Endless and eternal - wE Meekly bide our time, till death shall whelM Earthly ambition in that world, sublimE,
No eye of mortal e'er liath seeN. The future surely dawns when life is spenT. O! teach us, then, Thy will to dO; Make all our strivings end and aiM
On Heaven and Thee, to center ; O ! Reward our faith, our spirits cheeR, In thee to die - so Lord, may I.
WRITTEN IN 1876.
102
POEMS AND . SKETCHES.
AUTUMNAL MUSINGS.
When the leaves begin to fall, And the chilling winds are wailing, Sadness shrouds us like a pall, For the Summer's glow is failing.
Winter's most unwelcome presence Follows Autumn's footsteps, fast, With a snowy, cheerless mantle, Over dying Nature cast.
Songs of birds and bloom of flowers Cease to cheer or charm the world ; Silence reigns, and beauty slumbers -- Happy, gleeful wings are furled.
Come, O ! come, thou joyous season When the earth renews her prime : Herald of re-animation -
Summer's prelude, most sublime !
Earth and air with life now teeming, Floral forms, in splendor, glow ; Nature now -a Heaven, in seeming - Makes a Paradise below.
OCTOBER 21, 1890.
103
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
THE ROBIN.
All hail ! fair bird, in russet dressed ! Thrice welcome, as our Summer's guest ! Build in thy Northern home a nest, And rear thy callow young.
Thy advent heralds coming Spring ; Make glad expectant liearts, and sing, Till all the welkin round thee ring, And thy glad notes are sung !
Thou knowest well the time of flowers - When sunshine gladdens all the hours, And Nature sheds her gentle showers, To vivify the world.
When forests don their vernal dress, The earth sends forth her fruits to bless, ' Mid sights and sounds of happiness - A glorious dream unfurled.
Who would not be a joyous bird, Whose notes of rapture all have heard ? A gift on thee alone conferred, And Heaven-designed.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Could I but fly, I'd fly with thee - Thou pure, blithe spirit, wild and free - O'er all the world, its charms to see, Of Nature, art, or mind.
FEBRUARY 3, 1893.
TWO TRANSLATIONS
Of the Following German Stanza.
" Das meer ist tief, das meer ist weit, Doch gehet Gottes Herlichkeit Noch tiefer als das meeres grund, Noch weiter als das erdenrund."
The sea is deep, the sea is wide, Yet God's great glory doth abide Still deeper than the ocean's ground, Still farther than earth's utmost bound.
The sea is deep, the sea is wide, Yet God's great glory doth abide In regions deeper than the sea, And farther than earth's boundary.
JULY 30, 1889.
105
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
IN THE DAYS WHEN I WENT TIPSYING.
In the days when I went tipsying- A long time ago- The bars and taverns were so thick, I hadn't far to go.
And thus I wasted precious time, Nor knew how came it so - In days when I went tipsying, A long time ago.
I traveled down the paths of sin As fast as I could go, And soon became a wreckless man - As surely you must know.
I shuffled cards, and played at dice, And wandered to and fro ; I lost my health, I lost my wealth, And gained, instead, but woe.
My wife, at length, deserted mne For drinking rum and wine ; For she, the jewel, never could Companion with the swine.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
I revelled still, in sottish ways, With boon companions old, Till rags and misery were my lot - The gutters and the cold.
Despised and hated of my kind, I had nowhere to go ; And often prayed that I might die Amid the drifting snow.
But I reformed - became a man - And ceased to drink and revel ; And now, that I am sane once more, I loathe that liquid devil.
NOTE .- The first verse of this song is very old; the remainder was built up from it.
FEBRUARY 25, 1889.
107
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
SOME REFLECTIONS,
Suggested by the presence of a rose-bush, in full bloom, at the head of a grave in Elkhorn cemetery.
A rose-tree, in its glorious bloom, Stood guard above a silent tomb ; Its flowers were gay, its leaves were green, Its perfume filled the air, serene ; .
And though the year was waning fast, And wintry storms must come, at last, Its ruby petals, bright and fair, Still sought new life from sun and air.
It was a token love had given - A hint of holier joys in Heaven ; Its buds were blessings, unawares ; Its exhalations, silent prayers ; Its thorns were human ills and cares.
Its brief existence told that we Should likewise shortly cease to be ; That as we lived, so should we die : Then let our aims be pure and high.
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 1890.
108
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
THE ROSE.
The Rose, the Rose, the beautiful Rose ! The queenliest flower of all that grows ! A gift of the gods to May and June, When Nature's charms are all in tune !
When Phœbus shines with a ray subdued, And birds are busy with nest and brood ; When the sky is bright and our hearts are light, And the world partakes of Elysian delight ;
When woods are green and fields are fair, And sounds of joy fill all the air, And laughing brooks, meandering by, Reflect and mirror a cloudless sky.
Then hail to the Rose, the glorious Rose ! The queenliest flower of all that grows ! A gift of the gods to May and June, When Nature's charms are all in tune !
MAY 24, 1894.
109
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
ARTLESSNESS IN ART.
There is an artlessness in art, All women know, Which they employ to wound the heart, With Cupid's bow.
To-day she wreathes herself in smiles, To-morrow, frowns ; The next, it may be, she beguiles With newest gowns ;
A ringlet or a ribbon, fair, From waist or neck ; A pin, or charm, a " bang " of hair, A " beauty " speck.
Whatever be the means employed, She bears the palm ; She rules all nations, and the "tribes " Of "Uncle Sam."
SEPTEMBER 1, 1895.
110
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
LINES
Suggested by some late rose-buds, on a bush in our front yard.
A rose-bud strove in vain to bloom. The season strove to kill it ; And thus it failed to shed perfume, For Nature failed to will it.
November's chilling winds were keen, Too keen, its soul to cherish ; So, humbly, it was shortly seen To bow its head and perish.
Thus many a human soul has bowed Before life's chilling storms,
And died - from out the thoughtless crowd Of striving human forms.
This world holds dearth of sympathy Too charily bestowed ; And while some loving hearts there be, It has not freely flowed.
To Him who lets no sparrow fall Without His loving care, Let all His needy children call - To Him direct your prayer.
NOVEMBER 18, 1892.
111
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
SLEEVES, AND HOOPS, AND BUSTLES.
Thou latest of wonders, O ! feminine sleeve - Which fashion prescribes for the fair -
When will the dear creatures of thee take their leave, Some other new folly to dare ?
Thou clearly deformest and makest a fright Of those who are patrons of thee :
However they may in thy fullness delight, We nothing of beauty can see.
Some decades ago it was hoops, in extreme, With a form so distended, alas !·
The climax of folly was reached, it would seem, For scarcely two persons could pass.
Next followed the bustle - a rearward display - Most vulgar contrivance, indeed :
Which flourished a season, and then passed away, As fashion some new fad decreed.
Thus, weakness and wickedness constantly tend To display and extravagance, ever :
The "hoop " and the " bustle," the old " Grecian bend," With the " sleeve " as the latest endeavor.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Why not, for a change, sew wings to the back, And make the fair creature a bird - To seek, in new regions, an untrodden track, Far away from all styles so absurd ?
SEPTEMBER 14, 1895.
PASSING AWAY.
The days, the weeks, the months, the years, Fly swiftly, as revolving spheres - Or some vast river's restless flow, Upon whose bosom hence we go.
The child to youth, the youth to age, Till we attain life's latest stage, When mercy, with her mystic wand, Conducts us to that unknown land.
. Where all, at last, in death shall sleep, Profound and silent, long and deep, No sound of trump shall break the spell - Farewell ! ye worldly cares, farewell !
Released at last, at rest for aye, We yield this tenement of clay, And seek a home with Nature's God, Where none but spirit forms have trod.
DECEMBER 15, 1892.
113
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
MARY HAD A LITTLE DOG.
A True Story.
Mary had a little dog ; His fleece was black and tan ; And ev'rywhere that Mary went, He just as surely ran.
. He went with her up town, sometimes ; And when she went a-shopping, His antics made the people laugh, Wherever she was stopping.
He wore a tiny little bell, That made a dainty clatter ; And came with such a nervous rush That ev'rything would scatter.
He loved to put the cats to flight, And sought them, here and there ; But when they scampered out of sight, His " bark " was on the air.
His mistress taught him many tricks, To please herself and friends, And had him double up like sticks, Uniting both his ends.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
He'd stand upon his hinder legs, And thus would strut around, And, leaping over Mary's "pegs," Would sit upon the ground.
This little imp would leap, or lie, Or run, or roll, or stand ; And grin and whine, or feign to die, Or bark, at her command.
He was a cunning little brute As ever you did see - He'd nestle down in Mary's lap, Or climb upon her knee.
She prized him for his many pranks - So unlike any other ; He had no little sisters, dear, Nor had he any brother ;
But Mary, in the fullness of Her sympathetic heart, Would say she was his dear mamma, Because he was so smart.
And now I've told you all I know About this little creature, Except - his master was a man, His mistress was his teacher.
MARCH 20, 1891.
115
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
LINES
Suggested by the tolling of the Pearl Street M. E. Church bell, for divine service.
How sadly sweet its echoes float, How many a tale 't could tell, If't had the power events to riote, And tongue could speak as well.
A daily record of our sins, And those which are forgiven,
Might be tolled out upon the air, Or wafted up to Heaven.
Although its tones breathe not in chimes A language, realistic, They hint to us of fairer climes - Supremely grand and mystic.
We pray Thee, Lord, that we may be More worshipful and lowly ;
That we, at last, Thy Face inay see - Renewed, redeemed and holy.
Then ring out cheerily again - Thou dear old Sabbath bell : Far over hill and vale and glen, Let thy sweet echoes swell.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
Recall the erring wanderer home, To seek the house of prayer - Though far in distant lands he roam - That he may worship there.
For He who grants His blessings here, Will, in his boundless love, Prepare for all his children, dear, A home with Him above.
Then ring out cheerily again - Thou dear old Sabbath bell ; Far over hill and vale and glen, The joyful tidings tell.
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 15, 1854.
THE RAIN.
A Protest.
It is all very plain That the rain rains rain, In a dull, monotonous, And sad refrain.
The grass may grow, And the flowers may blow, But I like not rain, With its sad refrain.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
For the sunshine, fair, And the balmy air, Have a charm for me That I feel and see.
So, away with the rain And its sad refrain, For it makes me " blue," Which is all too true.
And the world were brighter, And our hearts were lighter, If the sun shone more On this mundane shore.
So we pray Thee, then - Again and again - That the sun may shine With a light divine.
For we love not rain, With its dull refrain - Which makes us sad, When we should be glad - Because of its doleful, Dull refrain.
MARCH 22, 1893.
118
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
A BOYISH DREAM.
In youth the world's a circus-show, And women angels, here below.
Maiden of majestic mien - Robed in modesty, serene - Thou art my ideal queen : Gentle, and divinely fair ; Pure of speech, and culture rare ; Goodness beaming from thy face, Lends each charm a living grace. Artlessness, in every art, Of thy nature is a part ; With a heart to love inclined - Tender, lofty, and refined ; Dreamny orbs, of limpid blue, Mirror Heaven's cerulean hue ; Cheeks, with rosy health aglow, Show the spirit's happy flow ; Ebon locks, and teeth of pearl, Make of thee a peerless girl : Dignified, and calm as even'- Fit for Paradise, or Heaven !
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
May I, then, on bended knee, Ask that thou wilt hear my plea ? . I would be a slave to thee ;
I would worship at thy shrine - Consecrate my life to thine - If thou wilt be only mine.
Only promise this to me, And I swear that I will be All that thou couldst ask of me.
Time shall ever prove me true - Distant though I be from you - Death, alone, the tie shall sever : While we live, I'll love thee ever Aye, forever and forever.
MONDAY, JULY 20, 1891.
MAY 19, 1894.
With bluster, rain and snow, combined, And cold, at thirty-six, to find We are to cheerless thoughts inclined ; So, prithee, pass without delay, Thou dreary, nineteenth day of May.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
But yesterday men died of heat, While passengers upon the street ; The air was wrought to high degrees, Which soon became a boreal breeze - And now, alas ! we almost freeze ! The rose-tree, with its radiant bloom, Is cold and chill, amid the gloom ; For its dank leaves and shrunken form Are martyrs to an Arctic storm ;
While bird and beast and lordly man Suffer alike - as best they can - From Nature's all-perverted laws, For which we can assign no cause.
More fickle than the ways of men, Climatic changes seem ; and then If Nature's charms our hearts beguile, With balmy breeze, or sunny smile, Some disappointment lurks the while.
Stability has no place here ; Each day and week and month and year Doth still its various changes bring - To man, and every living thing Upon the earth, to which we cling.
SATURDAY, MAY 19, 1894.
NOTE .- On the 17th inst. deaths from sunstroke were reported in various parts of the country, since which we have had snow, frost, and cold weather, to date .- May 31, 1894.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
TO E. J. S.
Think not that I forget, Lizzie, Think not that I forget ; Though time and distance sever us - Think not that I forget.
I love thee far too well, Lizzie, To cease to love thee yet ; And while the rose and lily bloom, I never shall forget.
I often muse o'er happy hours We spent when e'er we met - The happiest of our lives, Lizzie - I never shall forget.
Then think not I forget, Lizzie, O ! think not I forget ; Though time and distance sever us, I never can forget.
JANUARY 20, 1848.
122
POEMS AND SKETCHES.
TO MISS SARAH F. ,
On Receiving a Basket of Flowers.
Dear lady, may the joys of life Be thine, through many a year, With countless friends, to cheer thee on Thy pilgrimage, while here.
May all thy deeds with love be fraught, Life's destiny to fill ; Fresh hopes renew thee every morn, To bear each rising ill.
May mem'ry's choicest roses bloom, Thy pathway to adorn -
Still fragrant with life's early dew's ; Of beauty, all unshorn.
May flowers, such as thou didst send, Receive thy tender care : Fit emblems of thyself, fair one - Bright, beautiful, and rare ;
And lastly, though not least, dear girl, Accept my kind regards ; And, though they seem but trifling gifts, They are my best rewards.
JULY 15, 1854.
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POEMS AND SKETCHES.
AN HUMBLE TRIBUTE
TO A DEAR, DEPARTED FRIEND, NELSON STALEY.
Thy gentle spirit winged its flight To regions in the sky ; And dwells with its Creator, there, To never, never die.
Though friends and kindred mourn thy loss, They vainly shall deplore ;
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