CharmingPoetry.com

THE MISSISSIPPI.
Woo to fort and recreant city when they round
their prows above ! Ah, what valor seized the islands ! boasting
Memphis gained again ! Wrapt the rebel ships in ruin, wave and flame
our allies then ! Mile by mile the restless River from its tyrant
rule they free, Till the fleet that left the prairies hails the
fleet that sailed from sea !
” Patience yet, O greeting sailors ! mark ! Port
Hudson, Vicksburg, wait, Grimly couched on savage highlands, sworn
to guard the River-gate. Call the soldiers from their camp-fires ! man
the guns ! there ’s work to do Ere this barred and gloomy water you may
sail unchallenged through.” Then beneath the bluffs they anchored, while
their armies in the rear Made the prisoned traitors tremble, slowly,
surely, drawing near. How we waited for the tidings ! ” Will they
never yield ? ” we cried ; ” Must we hold them still beleaguered, hope- less, starving in their pride ? ”

NEW ZEALAND.
Day after day for the disordered gain
Reeking of strife ; where all the gold that lies
In hungry palms is counterfeit despair !
So many broken hearts, subjected souls,
Smoke on its altars, piteous sacrifice.
This haven of antiquity whose tide
Bears evermore unfreighted hours shall keep
All that the glowing world forgets ; a peace
That is not slumber’s nor the minster hushed,
Is round us, one with us ; ay, God has moved
Within these forests that are eremites
Brooding upon his glory ; and I feel
An incorporeal chain draws me beyond
Mountain and city, far above the voice
Of cataract or thunder ; till I merge
In the vast dome of wheeling hemisphere,
Shedding infirmity of being, and lull
My soul in its eternal cradle, Him !
Let me be one with thee that I may leave,
Still Aorangi, far beneath me toils
That shall impede ! Though oft the tempest rocks
The barren precipice thy supreme arch
Glitters triumphant ; thou hast conquered, thou
Lookest athwart the mist below that veils
The world from thee invulnerable ; thou
Art nearest heaven, and dost not know the hour

Poems :
With education ample, And ha’e them a’ they can be made
By precept and example. And should we win nae mair o’ wealth
Than lumps o’ lads in breeches, What can we less, when blest wi’ health,
Than reckon them as riches ?

Poems :
If I reason, is this treason ?
Must my soul be as the blind ? May my death be as my faith be,
While I follow guiding mind. Must we see still, not by freewill,
But the terror of the rod ? Then the slave’s doom o’er our graves bloom
End unworthy man and God.
Walking lowly, onward slowly,
Knowing that my end is sure, Sooner, later, still sedater
Grows my spirit to endure. Tho’ fate crush me, and death hush me :
This I deem and proudly wait : That the spirit I inherit
Is superior to fate.
.Coming, going, neither knowing
The beginning nor the end, On the highways and the byways
Calling on the unknown Friend ; Looking to the sky above us,
Dreaming of the spirit land, While the souls of those that love us
Hover near us and at hand.
But our feelings and revealings
Lack the spiritual power To perceive them, to inweave them,
Like the suntint on the flower.

A GREY DAY
Down-cast in weeds went Nature, Stilling man’s mirth and song;
And mourning in each creature A grave and ancient wrong . . .
Light fades on hill and hollow ;
Night falls, and close behind Storm-rage and Sea-wrath follow
With wild cries on the wind.

HARVEST AND LIBERTY.
Not India’s gems, nor Persia’s pearls,
Nor wood of rarest trees, Nor spices from the Orient isles * Slow wafted o’er the seas. Our shrine is Liberty’s ; how clear
The wind around it sings ! Our gift, the freeman’s priceless vote ;
Our God, the King of kings.
Now who that loves his wife, or child,
Or home, or brother man, But in the bright, heroic ranks,
That day will swell the van ? And strong in love and hope and faith,
And treading firm the sod, Up to the patriot’s altar go,
Beneath the eye of God.
Young men ! around whose virgin vote
The proudest thoughts entwine ; Fathers ! who ne’er again may see
The moon of harvest shine ; And ye who know the heat of life,
And bear its toil and fray, O bring your gift, with fervent heart,
To Freedom’s shrine that day !

AFTER DRAFTING
NIGHT has fallen, night and darkness, Night with star and planet splendid ; And the earth lies like a giant
Wrapt in sleep, with limbs extended.
Rest has stolen on the homestead, On the long day’s rush and riot,
And no sound of horse or rider Breaks the soft and dewy quiet.
Yet, like heart-cries
After battle, Comes the calling, ceaseless calling,
Of the dun and dappled cattle.
Sleep is sweet, and sweet is silence, When the long day’s work is over,
For the toiler and the moiler, And the rider and the rover.
Not a breeze abroad at night-time Sets the barley-grass aquiver,
And from dew fall on to sunrise Sleeps the curlew by the river.

RECONCILIATION.
INTO her heart there crept an evil thought, Up to her lips there leapt an angry word,
Stiff Pride and surging Love together fought, And ever Pride gave way, and then recurred.
Into his soul there crept desire of love,
Forth from his eyes there flashed affection’s flame ; No double feeling in his bosom strove,
Though not on him lay the estranging blame.
But neither spoke. Oh ! why should language mar Soul silence, and some chance word lead to doubt?
Does man need words for love’s sweet avatar When dear, dumb Nature loves so well without ?
And from her face the angry colour flew, The fiery words sank down to hell’s abyss,
As trembling lips together softly drew, And spoke forgiveness in a rapturous kiss.

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

To the minstrel said the king, ” Sing you mournful songs or glad ‘? !
” Nay, sire, ’tis of life I sing; Gay to-day, to-morrow sad.”
” Minstrel, tell us not of tears;
Dulcet notes to joy belong.” ” Nay, sire, he who sorrow fears
Will not hear the sweetest song.”

THE CANARY ISLES.
To the Fortunate Islands abodes of the blest, Where the breakers roll in from the far-streaming west, To frame the fair isles with their foam and their fret, As stones of the jacinth in silver are set.
As the Pleiads of heaven in azureous sheen, As the coronet points in the crown of a queen, As the petals of damask that clothe the wild rose, In silence and sweetness those islands repose.
There the palm and the plantain stand green in the
sun,
Through forests of heather the sea-breezes run, Down the beetling ” barranco ” droop fern-leaf and
vine, And yellow and purple and red intertwine.