Poems of the Heart and Home Part 25

"Haste! haste! haste!"-- Thus from the Future the voices ring-- "The air is balmy with breath of spring, The waters sleep in the morning light, The storms are hushed, and the skies are bright, Haste! haste! haste!

"Isles of beauty and bloom are here, Groves, whose leaf.a.ge is never sere, Teeming harvests of boundless wealth, Peace, and plenty, and buoyant health-- Haste! haste! haste!

"Joy-bells ring in the sunny air, Mirth and music are everywhere,-- Bend to the oars, and away, away While the ripples dance and the breezes play-- Haste! haste! haste!"

"Farewell! farewell!--ye leave us far behind you-- Us, the lost Hours that would have blessed you so!

Yet, as ye leave us, let our strains remind you That we, not empty-handed, Heavenward go.

Records we bear of all the good we brought you,-- Of all we offered,-all that ye refused,-- Of all the lessons we in patience taught you,-- Of wasted time, of privilege abused; To G.o.d's tribunal we those records bear, Sometime, remember, they will meet you there-- Farewell! farewell!"

THE VOICE OF SPRING

I heard a voice--twas the voice of Spring, Up from the rivulets murmuring, Singing of freedom,--thus the lay On the breezes floated away-- "Joy! joy!--the chains that bound us Now disappear, Sunlight pours its treasures round us, Warm, warm and clear, Onward, speeding onward To the bright main, Chainless, free, unfettered, Are we again!"

I heard a voice--'twas the voice of Spring, Out from the hill sides whispering, And a tender strain from the woodland lone Blended with it in murmurous tone-- "Joy! joy!--the world is waking From her long rest,-- Earth a glow of warmth is taking To her chill breast,-- Tiny flower germs, hidden Long out of sight, Stealing forth unbidden, Seek the warm light!"

I heard a voice--'twas the voice of Spring, Over the waters wandering, As to the wilds came the song birds back, Singing still in their homeward track-- "Joy! joy!--we're home returning To the free hills, From our long and far sojourning, Now, to the rills, To the echoing forest.

Orchard and plain, With our old-time music, Speed we again!"

I heard a voice--'twas the voice of Spring,-- Nature, all Nature awoke to sing; And every valley, and grove, and plain Had its share in the welcome strain:-- "Joy! joy!--the chains are broken, Spring smiles again,-- Joy for every blessed token Of her glad reign,-- Joy on all the waters, Joy on each sh.o.r.e.-- Sunlight, song, sweet odors, Welcome once more!"

HONOR TO LABOR

HONOR TO LABOR!--it giveth health; Honor to labor!--it bringeth wealth; Honor to labor!--our glorious land Displayeth its triumphs on every hand.

It has smoothed the plains, laid the forests low, And brightened the vales with the harvest's glow,-- Reared cities vast with their marts of trade, Where erst undisturbed lay the woodland shade,-- Brought up from the depths of the teeming mine, Its treasured stores in the light to shine,-- Sent Commerce forth on his tireless wings In search of all precious and goodly things-- Forth to the ice-bound Northern seas, And to bright isles fanned by the Southern breeze, Where the Orange deepens its sunset dyes, And the Cocoa ripens 'neath glowing skies,-- To the sunny islands of Austral climes,-- To lands undreamt of in elder times,-- Till every region, and clime, and zone, Has yielded its treasures to bless our own.

Honor to Labor!--it diveth deep To dim sea-caves where bright treasures sleep, And dareth with curious quest explore The ancient wonders of Ocean's floor.

It fearless roams over Deserts vast, Where destruction rides on the Simoom's blast, And trackless sands have for ages frowned O'er cities in ancient song renowned.

It climbs where the dazzling glaciers lie, Changeless and cold, 'neath a glowing sky, And leaves the trace of its triumphs proud Above the regions of storm and cloud.

The Ocean, once an untravelled waste, By feet adventurous never pa.s.sed, Spread forth to the solemn skies alone Its restless waters to man unknown.

Imagination, with eager quest, Went forth o'er its bosom with vague unrest, To loneliest regions devoid of light, Where dark Cimmerii dwelt in night,-- Or peopled its realms, undiscovered, lone, With phantoms of horror and shapes unknown.

But Labor came, and with kindling glance Boldly he traversed the far expanse, Scatt'ring the shadows of ancient night, And lifting a glad New World to light.

Now, a realm of life is the glorious Sea-- A peopled realm of the bold and free-- Where the proud ship glides like a thing of life, And laughs at the storms and the billows' strife,-- Vast highway of nations, above whose deeps Commerce with tireless navies sweeps, And Life goes forth in its glad unrest, Buoyantly treading the waves' white crest.

Honor to Labor!--his strong right hand Old, frightful chasms has boldly spanned, And hung his teeming thoroughfares high 'Twixt rushing torrent and bending sky.

He has harnessed Steam to the flying car, And sent it from ocean to ocean afar,-- Pierced strong-ribbed mountains that barred his way, And oped through their caverns a broad highway,-- Taught the lightning to carry his messages forth From West to East, and from South to North, And flash his thoughts through the depths profound Of Ocean, the Earth's circ.u.mference round,-- Made Light his servant to do his will-- With faultless pencil and subtlest skill Limning the features most dear in life, Of friend, or husband, or child, or wife, And compressing into a single hour The work of months of artistic power.

Honor to Labor!--with steady eye He has fearlessly traversed the midnight sky, And followed the mazy, perplexing dance Of planets and moons thro' the far expanse,-- Their orbits, periods, weight and size, Studied with heedful and cautious eyes, And forced the haughty, imperial sun To answer his inquiries one by one.

He has tracked the comet's erratic flight Through the silent star-fields of primal night,-- Walked through the depths of old nebulae With flashing glance and with footstep free, And seen spin round him in wildering flight Systems and suns, while the infinite Of G.o.d's great universe stretched away Farther far than e'en thought might stray

"Honor to Labor!"--the mariner sings, As forth to the breezes his sails he flings;-- "It has made us lords of the boundless deep-- Fearlessly over the waves we sweep!"

"Honor to Labor!"--the traveller cries, As forth in the rushing tram he flies;-- "We may rival the speed of the bird's swift wing As he joyously soars thro' the skies of Spring, And the fetterless wind on its pinions free, Is scarcely more fleet in its course than we!"

"Honor to Labor!"--the student cries, As he gazes around him with joyful eyes,-- "Honor to Labor!--the teeming press Pours forth its treasures the world to bless!

From the pictured pages where childhood's eye Findeth a world of bright imagery, To the ma.s.sive tome 'mid whose treasures vast, Lie the time-dimmed records of ages past, We may wander, and revel, yet ever find Supplies exhaustless for heart and mind We may turn to the Past--to the ages fled-- And converse hold with the gifted dead,-- Old climes of historic fame explore, And gather the gems of their buried lore,-- With Prophet-bards seek inspiring themes, Or muse alone by old fabled streams,-- With the Poet take our enraptured flight, And woo the Muse on Parna.s.sus' height,-- Take fair Philosophy by the hand, And roam with her through her native land,-- May win from the G.o.d-inspired of Earth Heavenly treasures of priceless worth,-- Till the mental stores of all ages flown, And all gifted minds, we have made our own.".

Honor to Labor of body or mind, That hath for its object the good of mankind!

The Farmer, who cheerily ploughs the soil, And gathers the fruit of his hopeful toil,-- The strong Mechanic, whose manly brow Weareth of labor the healthful glow,-- The bold Inventor, beneath whose hands The useful engine completed stands,-- The Artist, who, with unrivalled skill, Creations of loveliness forms at will,-- The Teacher, who sows in the minds of youth Seeds of precious undying truth,-- The pale-faced Student, who, worn with toil, Consumes o'er his studies the midnight oil,-- The man of Science, with earnest mind, Who toils to enlighten and bless mankind-- To themselves, their race, and their country true.

Honor, all honor, to such is due!

THE MISER

The night was dark and dreary, And the autumn-wind went by With a sound like Sorrow's wailing In its sadly mournful cry;-- The yew trees, old and drooping, Shook in the angry blast, And the moon looked, pale and tearful, Through the clouds that hurried past.

In a dreary room and fireless, With mouldy walls and damp, A grey, old man was seated Beside a flickering lamp;-- An old man, worn and wasted, With bent and shivering form, And haggard looks, sat trembling At the moaning of the storm.

The cas.e.m.e.nts, old and creaking, Shook in the angry blast; And the pale, thin face grew paler, As the shrieking winds went past; For hovering fiends seemed clutching His treasures from his grasp, And unseen fingers tight'ning On his throat their icy clasp.

Again the strong wind rattled The broken window-pane, And the dying taper wavered In the rude blast yet again-- For one brief instant wavered, Then paled its sickly light, And the shuddering wretch was shrouded In impenetrable night.

The dull, grey light of morning Illumed the mountain-height, And Earth lay, cold and shiv'ring, In the blanched, autumnal light, But a sunbeam struggled faintly Through the Miser's broken shed, And lit the pale, set features Of the still, unshrouded dead.

For there, alone, and trembling With the horrors of affright, He had met the king of terrors 'Mid the darkness of the night; And with gold enough to satiate A monarch's haughty pride, In fear, and rags, and misery Of _want_ the wretch had died!

BROKEN

I.

Broken!

It's only a ring--a plain, old ring, Worn down to a thread almost-- Fling it away--the useless thing!

What value now can it boast?-- Fling it away!

Yet stay!--oh stay Ere you cast it away!

There's a tale of the vanished years That ever will cling, To that broken ring, That hallows and endears-- Oh stay!

In vain!--in vain!--What matters it now That tenderest memories cling To that thread of gold so wasted and old-- Who cares for a broken ring?-- Fling it away!

II.

Broken!

It's only a vase--an old, stone vase-- Ancient and out of style-- That has stood for years in the chimney place, Provoking many a smile-- Throw it away!

Yet stay!--that vase Held honored place In the sight of prince and peer And the flowers it held Were gathered of old By the lovely and the dear!-- Oh stay!