The Emigrant Mechanic and Other Tales in Verse Part 28

James, 'tis full time for me to write Some rhymes to you in earnest quite.

I've promised long, and now I'll try My promise to fulfill, and why?

Because you have a claim on me Which, when paid off, will set me free, To run awhile again in debt, Which in its turn shall sure be met.

But this is trifling, you may say.

Perhaps it is, but trifles may Effect some good; they often do, And quite as often please us, too.

Who's free from trifling? I would ask.

To find out one would prove a task.

But then I candidly confess That we should surely trifle less.

Well, let me see; can any theme Be started? Yes, I had a dream [FOOTNOTE: Fact.]

The other night. Both you and I Were standing on a hill so high, And soon there came a mighty stream Which did not leave of hope a gleam.

But suddenly a plank we found, That brought us safely to dry ground.

Then I awoke devoid of fear, And you the Moral true shall hear.

All mortals now are sailing down The stream of time, as you must own; And waters roar, and dash, and foam.

Then say--how shall we reach our home?

There is a plank, as we have seen, And it is safe, most safe, I ween.

'Tis in the Gospel clearly shown, 'Tis by all Christians fully known.

We have its merits long since tried, And glory in the Lamb who died.

Then let us prize it as we ought, And serve him who our souls has bought.

For surely this our duty is If we would reach eternal bliss.

TO MY DAUGHTER ELLEN, ON HER WEDDING DAY, MARCH 20, 1859.

Ellen, on this glad occasion I address to you a rhyme, And in tones of sweet persuasion Would advise you at this time.

If full measure of enjoyment You would seek in married life, Make it daily your employment To avoid what leads to strife.

Prize, O prize, both now and ever, Joseph's confidence of love.

See that fits of temper never Drive him forth from home to rove.

Should he show unlooked for weakness, Hide the secret in your breast, And expostulate with meekness When you have G.o.d's Throne addressed.

Always aim to dress with neatness, Though your clothes be e'er so plain; Add to this your mother's sweetness, If you would love's sway maintain.

Should yours prove a life of trial, May you both still look above.

Exercise in self-denial Strengthens pre-existing love.

I have found that constant blessing Springs from troubles sanctified, And when needs have been most pressing, G.o.d himself those needs supplied.

To His care I therefore leave you, Bid you lean upon his arm; May naught soon arise to grieve you, Naught to damp affection warm.

MURDER WILL OUT; OR, THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE.

A tale of Jealousy and Revenge, by Bernard Gray.

Turned into a Ballad and some new Scenes added.

1854

[Footnote: I would not wish exactly to be held responsible for what the reader may deem unchristian-like language or statements in this ballad, as I have copied the original in such matters.]

Sullen sat in jealous mood, A most brutal-looking man; Purpose foul served him for food.

Against a maid he lately wooed His dreadful purpose ran.

Long he sat with vacant stare, Large his eyes, quite gray and full; Fell in tangled locks his hair, O'er his dirty forehead there, Fit covering for such skull.

Stands in the room a crazy bed And two wretched, worn-out chairs.

_That_ had rested limbs and head, _These_ now served for _that_ instead; Thus ill the villain fares.

Heard he on that gloomy night Demon foul to urge the deed?

Would he tremble at the sight If some horrid goblin sprite Came his strong wrath to feed?

He would welcome as his friend Ev'n proud Satan, prince of h.e.l.l, If he would a.s.sistance lend So that he could gain his end In crime--so very fell.

She who thus had roused his ire, Lived a little distance off.

With his jealous soul on fire Cudgel stout suits his desire; He has one stout and tough.

Soon he reached her shabby home, Rapped aloud upon the door.

"Yes, John Bristol, you may come,"

Said a voice within that room So high on the third floor.

Near the window, very sad, Sat she, deeply wrapped in thought And appeared but thinly clad.

Brown her hair, blue eyes she had As e'en with love were fraught!

She asked the man to take a seat.

He "preferred to stand awhile, Had been sitting much of late."

Now, as if impelled by fate, He has recourse to guile.

Says she, "Glad I am you've come For I thought you took offense."

Little dreams she of the doom Hanging o'er her in that room, Or she would flee from thence.

He her conduct now reproves, She replies in innocence.

Softly he behind her moves, Right behind the girl he loves, In cowardly pretence.

Ere suspicion could arise In the hapless victim's mind, Up the st.u.r.dy cudgel flies, Downward on its aim it flies, And strikes her as designed.

Right upon her temples fair, Murder foul has done its part.

Eyes a.s.sume a strange, fixed stare, Flows the blood among her hair, No longer throbs the heart.

Now the villain lifts her arm, Now he finds the pulse has fled; He can do no further harm; Conscience sounds a loud alarm, For surely she is dead.

Now he flees in haste away; Shifts the scene again to her: She is found by friends next day Stiff and gory as she lay, And they create a stir.

Quickly gathers round a mob, Fleetly flies the horrid news, Making hearts more strongly throb; Women shriek, and cry, and sob As each the body views.