Poems

Author of all divine
Gifts, lofty, pure, and free,
Temperance and truth in song sublime
An offering bring to Thee!

A temple, whose high dome
Rose from a water-cup;
And from its altar to Thy throne
May we press on and up!

And she – last at the cross,
First at the tomb, who waits —
Woman – will watch to cleanse from dross
The cause she elevates.

Sons of the old Bay State,
Work for our glorious cause!
And be your waiting hearts elate,
Since temperance makes your laws.

"Temples of Honor," all,
"Social," or grand, or great,
This blazoned, brilliant temperance hall
To Thee we dedicate.

"Good Templars" one and all,
Good "Sons," and daughters, too,
We dedicate this temperance hall
To God, to Truth, and you!

    Lynn, Mass., August 4, 1866.

LINES

Come, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer. —Moore.

Was that fold for the lambkin soft virtue's repose,
Where the weary and earth-stricken lay down their woes, —
When the fountain and leaflet are frozen and sere,
And the mountains more friendless, – their home is not here?

When the herd had forsaken, and left them to stray
From the green sunny slopes of the woodland away;
Where the music of waters had fled to the sea,
And this life but one given to suffer and be?

Was it then thou didst call them to banish all pain,
And the harpstring, just breaking, reecho again
To a strain of enchantment that flowed as the wave,
Where they waited to welcome the murmur it gave?

Oh, there's never a shadow where sunshine is not,
And never the sunshine without a dark spot;
Yet there's one will be victor, for glory and fame,
Without heart to define them, were only a name!

    Lynn, Mass., February 19, 1868.

TO THE SUNDAY SCHOOL CHILDREN

Who sent me the picture depictive of Isaiah xi

Jesus loves you! so does mother:
Glad thy Eastertide:
Loving God and one another,
You in Him abide.
Ours through Him who gave you to us, —
Gentle as the dove,
Fondling e'en the lion furious,
Leading kine with love.

Father, in Thy great heart hold them
Ever thus as Thine!
Shield and guide and guard them; and, when
At some siren shrine
They would lay their pure hearts' off'ring,
Light with wisdom's ray —
Beacon beams – athwart the weakly,
Rough or treacherous way.

Temper every trembling footfall,
Till they gain at last —
Safe in Science, bright with glory —
Just the way Thou hast:
Then, O tender Love and wisdom,
Crown the lives thus blest
With the guerdon of Thy bosom,
Whereon they may rest!

    Pleasant View, Concord, N. H., April 3, 1899.

HOPE

Tis borne on the zephyr at eventide's hour;
It falls on the heart like the dew on the flower, —
An infinite essence from tropic to pole,
The promise, the home, and the heaven of Soul.

Hope happifies life, at the altar or bower,
And loosens the fetters of pride and of power;