Poems of the Heart and Home Part 3

"What a fool was John Littlewit!" somebody cries;-- Nay, friend, not so fast, if you please!

A humble man was John Littlewit-- A gentle, loving man; He clothed the needy, the hungry fed, Pitied the erring, the faltering led, Joyed with the joyous, wept with the sad, Made the heart of the widow and orphan glad, And never left for the lowliest one An act of kindness and love undone;-- And when he died, we may well believe G.o.d's blessed angels bore John Littlewit's peaceful soul away To the beautiful Heaven for which we pray, Where the tree of knowledge blooms for aye, And ignorance plagues no more.

Squire Loftus, friends, was a _cultured_ man, You knew him-so did I: He had studied the "Sciences" through and through, Had forgotten far more than the ancients knew, Yet still retained enough To demonstrate clearly that all the old, Good, practical Bible-truths we hold Are delusion, nonsense, stuff!

He could show that the earth had begun to grow Millions and millions of ages ago; That man had developed up and out From something Moses knew nothing about,-- Held with Pope that all are but parts of a whole Whose body is Nature, and G.o.d its Soul;-- And, since _he_ was a part of that same great whole, Then the soul of all Nature was also his soul;-- Or, more plainly--to be not obscure or dim-- That G.o.d had _developed Himself_ in him:-- That what is called _Sin_ in mankind, is not so, But is just _misdirection_, all owing, you know, To defectiveness either of body or brain, Or both, which the soul is not thought to retain,-- In the body it acts as it _must_, but that dead All stain from the innocent soul will have fled!

"How wise was Squire Loftus!" there's somebody cries;-- Nay, friend, not so fast, if you please; His wisdom was that of the self-deceived fool Who quits the clear fount for the foul, stagnant pool, Who puts out his eyes lest the light he descry, Then shouts 'mid the gloom "how clear-sighted am I!"

Who turns from the glorious fountain of Day, To follow the wild _ignis fatuus_' ray Through quagmire and swamp, ever farther astray, With every step that he takes.

But he died as he lived; and the desolate night He had courted and loved better far than the light, Grew more and more dark, till he pa.s.sed from our sight, And what shall I say of him more?-- Give me rather John Littlewit's questionless faith, To illume my lone path through the valley of death-- The arm that he leaned on, the mansion of light That burst through the gloom on his kindling sight, And I'll leave the poor sceptic his lore!-- Let me know only this--_I was lost and undone, But am saved by the blood of the Crucified One_, And I'm _wise_ although knowing no more!

TO A MOTHERLESS BABE.

Why art thou here, little, motherless one,-- Why art thou here in this bleak world alone?

With that innocent smile on thy beautiful brow, What hath this stern world for such as thou?

Why art thou here in this world of unrest, Thou that of angels shouldst be the guest?-- Oh, wild are the storms of this wintry clime, Dire are the ills that will meet thee in time!

Lamb, with no shelter when tempests are near, Dove, with no resting place, why art thou here?

THE CAGED BIRD'S SONG.

RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED TO HIS PATRONESS AND FRIEND, BY THE LITTLE, BROWN SINGER HIMSELF.

Merrily!

Merrily!

Tschee! tschee! tschee!

What can the meaning of these things be?

Tiniest buds and leaflets green-- Who shall tell me what these things mean?

Merrily!

Merrily!

Tschee! tschee! tschee!

Much I guess they were meant for me!

Tsu-ert!

Tsu-ert!

Tschee! tschee! tschee!

So I shall eat them up you see Somebody, somewhere, is kindly stirred To think of me, a poor, brown bird!-- Merrily!

Merrily!

Tschee! tschee! tschee!

Somebody, somewhere, thinks of me!

Tsu-ert!

Tsu-ert!

Tschee! tschee! tschee!

"A gentle lady?"--and can it be?-- Say it again, 'tis a pleasant word, _Thinking of me_, your poor, brown bird!-- Merrily!

Merrily!

Tschee! tschee! tschee!

Bless the lady that thinks of me

Tsu-ert!

Tsu-ert!

Tschee: tschee! tschee!

So I shall eat them up, you see!

Hi, a nip here! and ho, a nip there!

Bless me, mistress, how sweet they are!

Merrily!

Merrily!

Tschee! tschee! tschee!

Bless the lady who thinks of me!

Tsu-ert!

Tsu-ert!

Tschee! tschee! tschee!

Merrily, merrily, let it be!-- Hi, a nip here! and ho, a nip there!

Over, under, everywhere!

Merrily!

Merrily!

Tschee! tschee! tschee!

Somebody, somewhere, thinks of me!

CROSSING THE RED SEA

Before them lay the heaving deep Behind, the foemen pressed; And every face grew dark with fear, And anguish filled each breast Save one, the Leader's, he, serene, Beheld, with dauntless mind, The restless floods before them seen.

The foe that pressed behind.

"Why hast thou brought us forth for this?"

The people loudly cry;-- "Were there no graves in Egypt's land, That here we come to die?"

But calm and clear above the din Arose the prophet's word,-- "Stand still! stand still!--and ye shall see The salvation of the Lord!"

"Fear not!--the foes whom now you see, Your eyes no more shall view!-- Peace to your fears!--your fathers' G.o.d This day shall fight for you; For Egypt, in her haughty pride And stubbornness abhorred, This day, in bitterness shall learn, Jehovah is the Lord!"

He spake; and o'er the Red Sea's flood He stretched his awful wand, And lo! the startled waves retired, Abashed, on either hand; And like a mighty rampart rose To guard the narrow way Mysterious, that before the hosts Of ransomed Israel lay!

Oh! strange and solemn was the road Which they were called to tread, With myst'ries of the ancient deep Around their footsteps spread,-- With ocean's unknown floor laid bare Before their wondering eyes, And the strange, watery wall that there On either hand did rise!

Yet fearlessly, with steadfast faith, Their Leader led them on; While, from behind, a heavenly light Through the dread pa.s.sage shone;-- Light for that lone and trembling band Gleamed out with radiance clear, While Egypt's host came groping on Through darkness dense and drear!