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IL^rics

OF THE

Kn6er '^orl6

Jackson,

5tll55l55if>pl

W. A. SCOTT,

Publiser, Jackson, Miss.

1912

COPYRIGHT

1912,

BY
S.

A.

BEADLE.

/'J^'^^

^CI.A3()0190

The Author

^xt^ntt

y^*OW
it,

active, longeval

and fascinating,

is

hope; the acci-

dents, reverses

and misfortunes of today but invigorate


it

and tomorrow

will

be painting brighter goals, in

all
it

the colors of the rainbow, or

embellishing the desert, where


It

faded yes'^erday, with the mirage.


at

follows but never


its

comes
it

up with the horizon; and when,


reached the bourn,
it

the end of

cable tow,
in

has

is

then, to
its

many, so seductive
is

enchantment

that death, in the hour of

triumph,
faith.

confused by the garlands

hope wreaths upon the brow of


Beguiled by this
the
of
I

alluring

vision,

have been seduced

into

difficult,
I

yet pleasing labors of writing verse, a small collection

which

am exposing
with less

to

the consideration of the public, before novice; who,


I

have acquired the


better,

skill of a
effort;

am

sure, could

have

done
ng

and who
at

will,

perhaps, upon review-

my
It

work, blush derisively


is

my

poverty of thought and vague-

ness of expression: such


is

his pleasure.

enough

for
is

me

to

indulge the fancy that an asylum surin the

vives for him

who

seduced by the muses,

lenitive

pas-

sions of those,

whose love for the beautiful, causes them to tolerate its worshipers; whose affections for the esthetic, make them partial to its vassals and whose loftiness of character and charity
of spirit impel
just

them

to

be lenient where they might be rash, and


yield
to

where they might


these

malice;

and who,
that

in the

exercise

of

happy

virtues,

do not forget

the

daisy comes as

sweet

from, the fallow as the rose

from the garden.


poor work,
I

In selecting a

name

for

this

have, perchance,

done violence

to the sensitive feelings of

many

zealous partizans

of the art of composition,


to

who

have, with the usurpation


off the

common
an

squatter sovereigns, fenced

domain

of poesy, as

exclusive sporting ground for themselves,


as
I

where trespassers, such


I

am, are

commanded
say that the
it

to

would

like to

"Keep off the grass." To all such name is not chosen because the comis

position, for

which

stands,

metrical; but rather because


of

am

member

of that

unhappy race
iii

people which are treated as

alien

enemies

in the

land of their nativity, and the victim of that


in

tyrannous public opinion which makes

them and me, what were


since this

commendable

in

others, a

bar to advancement; and

inclement public opinion has barred us from pursuing those civic


pursuits that distinguish** the civilian

from the savage, and the

savage from the brute, may


the

not

call this little

volume "Lyrics

o*^

Under World"? The piece, "My Country,"


to

is

but a fanciful flight of


to

hope from

conditions that are

what ought

be the scope of one's environprinciples are said to be,

ment

in a

country whose underlying


to all, special

"Equal rights

benefits

to
it

none."

And, since

"My

Country"
upbraid

is

a creature of fancy,

may

not be palmed ofT on the

if not poetry? Those of my fellows who me for indulging the fancy, together with those who would eliminate me under the doctrine, 'This is a white man's country," will not, hope, further deprive me from enjoying through the

uninitiated as verse,

imagination what seems to be impossible as a matter of fact.


if

these truths are not self-evident, but false: "That

all

men

endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these rights are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, let me at least hold them among the
are created equal; that they are
"

things imaginable.
country.

cannot abandon the position that

this is

my

There
worshipers
until a

is, I

think,

enough

in

the overt acts of


justify

some
to

of the

of the

idol,

Color,
will

to

the

"Lines
its

Caste,"
treat-

master comes,

who
a

give

the subject
in to

proper

ment.

"The Jaunt"
Knight,
"

is

mere

jargon,
I

thrown

take the place of

"The Black
but which
I

poem

had intended

for this collection,


I

prefer not to

publish at this time.


I

may

say,

howage.

ever, that in writing

"The Jaunt"

was

trying to build a continued

discourse

in

sonnets, and failed utterly with the soliloquy of


collection
I

Of
than
I

the other subjects of this

prefer to say noth-

ing, since the reader, a better


I

judge of their merits and demerits

am, will render a decision for himself.

would

like,

however,

to

thank

my two

friends. Dr.

Scott, the publisher,

and Hon.

W.

E. Mollison,

W. A. who have condeits

scended, the one

to

publish the book and the other to write

introduction, for the

encouragement they gave me


iv

in

my

labors.

They

are the only two college graduates,

among my many
to

acto

quaintances,

who

did

not think

it

humiliating

themselves

recognize me,

whom

abject poverty

during

my

youth and early

manhood deprived

of the benefits of school training.


I

As
used

to the illustrations,

give
is

"Sam

in

Sleepy Corner" the


of

place of honor, because he


to sit

an old

companion

mine who

with

me

while

munched my food on
yet
1

the curb, or

was
is

kicked into the gutter by the haughty and proud for intruding upon
the public thoroughfare. as

And

am
as
I

free

to
is in

say that there


the palace,

much happiness upon


I

the curb

there
left
it.

and

tnat

haven't had a happy day since


I've

But

heard so much of poesy, of

art,

And

mystic things, the plumed wings of thought,


but genius has;
flight,

Which none
Prime
for

none but genius ought


of

gay fancy's
yet motive

awe

start

Amazed!
I'd

moved, by buoyant heart

labor

where
I

the nobler souls have wrought;


told, for

But when

would I'm

me

'tis

naught

dull; yet may not, beguiled By no incentive but the soul's flood swell, Aheave like high tides when the seas run wild.
I

To strive, since Where spirit is

neither

muse nor

art

takes part

Awake

a passion note, since that strange spell.


art's the

Love and not

suasive soul of song.


late

Genius, but labor toiling


I

and

long.

am

indebted

to

my

son, Richard
to

Henry Beadle,

for the

photographic

illustrations,

and

Mr. Boon

for the cartoon, that

appear
I

in this

book.

entertain for the children of

my
to

fancy a fond solicitude,

part with

them with a feeling akin

pain lest they will not give


perusal as
I

you as much pleasure, dear reader,


their creation.
If
it

in their

found

in

were

not out of place for

me

to

commend them
to

to

you

would

like to

say a good word for Eulelia, Alice, lona,


it

Sam and

the others.

As

is

but consign

them

your consideration

without a word further than subscribing myself,

YOURS

truly,

S.

A.

BEADLE.

W.

E. Mollison, Introductor

L^grirs of

t\\t

mniitx "^orltl

T was Abraham Lincoln who


loved the

said, "God

Almighty must have

common
them.
"

people, or he would not have


is

many
effort to

of

It

not often that the bard

made so makes any


to

sing the songs of the lowly.

The
The

poet

is

prone

pay

court to the gods


in

who

dwell upon Olympus, rather than the delvers


author of this book has

mines or the

fellers of the forest.

seen

lifein all of its

phases.

From

the humblest of beginnings, he


in his

has reached heights not dreamed of

boyhood; has measured


age,
in

swords with the best and master


his

spirits of his

and has held


such as are

own among them.

His heart must beat

unison with the


for

sufferings as well as the hopes

and aspirations

not "brother to the ox."

Many
and hopes

of of

these
this

poems voiced

for the first time the


of

dreams

Under- World; many

them have
times.

in the lines

glint of real genius,

and while our author has not ridden Pegassus


at

like the

Centaur, even Jupiter has nodded

Our

author's

contribution to the literature of his people

and

his time will

be

more appreciated as the years

roll by.

He

has placed

all

of

us under lasting obligations to him for


vistas into

having opened these


simple folk

new

the

hearts and souls of the

whose songs he sings with such consummate grace


in

and simple beauty.

Mr. Beadle has written many charming verses


years,

earlier

many

of them

show sparks

of

poetic

fire

but

none come
the

up

to

the sustained height reached

and kept

in

"Lyrics of

Under World."

W.

E.

MOLLISON.

W.

A. Scott, Publisher

My

Country,

MY COUNTRY.
Y
Country God bless thee! God bless thee,
brooklet that bickers from

my home!

With harvest and

plenty, thy dark fertile loam;


hills far

The

above,
I

And dances and dallies through vales that Go purling on, may the sun on its sheen.
it,

love.

The cress and the fern on its banks growing green. The mead ever verdant where graze gentle kine.

And wide roam

the herds of

my

neighbor and mine.


other earth. land of

Thou dearer and grander than all With clime sweet and balmy, fair

my

birth;

May
Is

valiant thy youth grow,,

more

stalwart,

more brave,

Till ne'er a

poor laggard, nor coward, nor slave


hills,

seen

in

thy valleys, nor met on thy

Where

babbles the brook, or the bright


of

dew

distills.

Oh, Country
Ever true

mme! may

thy humblest son be

to thy genius,

"brave, happy and free,"

<3

May palsied the hand grow that When traitors would spoil thee,
And
By
the alien

strikes not for thee,

thou land of the free;

who
let

dares
fall,

to

invade thy domain.


slain

the

sword

him

and from sleep with the


morning
to

Let him never

awake

in the

greet
sheet;

The

daisies that bloom o'er his

dank winding
to the

And

freedom,

my

Country's great boon


that thy

world,

Let me die on the day


I

banners are
I

furled.

love thee, adore thee,

my

Country,

do;

Thy faults, though, are many, "in pulpit and pew, The work of the vicious, the mean and the vain, Who, vile in their motive and weak in their brain.
Forget that the law
is

the strength of the brave.

And
The

the

But thou

man who would break it worse than a slave. art my Country, still grand and sublime.

noblest in genius, the fairest in clime.

The Haven

of the Lees,

THE HAVEN OF THE

LEES.
company
is

m OVE
She
If

is

homeless

in

palace and

in

lone;

s a

vagabond

in riches,

and

a vassal on a throne,
of fame,

In the gilded halls of fortune,

on the airy heights

she's unresuscitated by the


at

husbandman

or dame.
in

Love's

home

within the hovel, on the curb or

the den,

With

the highest or the lowest, in the varied walks of men,

When

they feel the animation of her bouyancy and zeal.


in

Wielding big with exultation

the glory of their weal.


the

Love

is all

there

is

of heaven.

It's

Eden gained by those

W ho,
By

pursuing

art

and fortune, loved humanity and rose

the aid they've given others; through this jewel of the soul
to the

Leading many wayward brothers

mead

of honor's goal.

Love's a pleasure

to the

farmer, and his beaming, lucky star,


in fields afar;

When When

at

eve he comes returning from his work

his

spouse awaits his coming with the grace-enthroned

brow,

Paying homage

to his

courage, giving honor

to his

plough.
half so brave

Never knight was

half so gallant,
in the

never

man was

When When
To

he greets her

gloaming as his wife and not his

slave,

he gives his steed the bridle,

when he

flings

aside the

flail.

assist her in the milking

and

to

bear for her the

pail.

I.ove

is

outraged

in the pulpit
in

when

the lord presiding there

Overlooks the man


For the dazzle

homespun
and

for the opulent

and

fair;

of the

jewels and the jingle of the coin,


guileful,

Which

the nabob, suave

from the

common herd

purloin.

Love's a burden

to a

princess and a
is

trifle to

a throne;

For the glory

of

monarch

a heart of brass and stone;


intrigue

Else diplomacy

would
ease

famish and

and guile would

wane,
In

the

arms

of

and pleasure,

find

the certain

way

to

shame.
Love's a weakness
to a soldier,

and

this fickle slave of

fame
his aim;

Better serves ambition's mandate

when

the carnage

is

But

to sailors love's

a beacon,

beaming bright across the

seas,

To

the glory of the passage, to

The Haven

of the Lees.

Eulelia.

EIJLELIA.

AST

night

lay dozing

When in there came, And sat beside me, posing. One whom claim
I

Is neat,

and sweet, and


too,

dutiful,

Bewitching,

and
in

beautiful,

Superbly grand

charm;

The The
Its

glory of her jetty eyes.

taper of her form,

taction
1

and

its

guise
tell

But then

mustn't

Of Of
Her

that delightful swell

breast against

my own;
mine,

touch of lips

to

Like Hebe's nectar wine,


Revived, refreshed and blessed me-

And

still

mustn't

tell

How

that delightful swell

Of heart To mine,

of hers, to soul of mine.


to

mine,

to

mine!

Was
Upon

like the flow of

Hebe's wine

famished tongue.

10

Waking, from dream,

found thee,

Too prone

to

pose
thee,

And others draw around And me with those

To taunt with airy flirting, Too happy thou, in hurting,


Breaking the heart
EuleHa, doth thou
of

me.
thy crime,

know

Coquettish butchery.

Hath hut my
But then
I

spirit

charmed
tell

to

lime

mustn't
art

How

cursed
in

thou and

fell.

Locked

my
of

rival's

arms;

His touch

lips to thine,
to

plague and curse

mine.

Doth demonize

thee, dear;

So hence

mustn't dwell
tell

On thought of thee, nor How his lips touched to


Of them
For mine,

thine

make

brine

for mine, for mine.

for mine, for mine!

Make

brine of thine for mine.

11

Eulelia, I'd be sleeping,

For then

it

seems

dome is keeping Tab on happy themes, Of one so rare, so beautiful.


old thought

My

With grace so sweet, immutable,

And
I

like a Fay's

concerned,
she

can but fancy,

love, that

for me why should disclose. What charm dispels my throes


With Hebe's cup
But
I

Is thine

own

self returned

Like Nepenthes' spell

's

the

heave

Of thy fond breast to mine; So charming, rare, divine!


That
is,
I

so

it

seems,

When

am

lost in

dream,

My
Of

day dream's happy theme.


of mine.

That captive holds the heart


mine, of mine, of mine!

That captive holds the heart


In vassalage to thine.

of

mine,

12

Lines to Caste.

LINES

TO CASTE.
I

m HE
I
I

things

love

may

not touch,

But kiss the hand that shackles bring;


of

The thraldom

can but nurse

my soul is such my thongs and

sing,

And hope and


Will

pray that destiny


yet unfetter me.

somehow

simply trust fate as

ought,
reviles.

While hate defames, malice

And

so distorts the public thought


defiles

That even innocence


All

who

are not adjudged by caste,

Superior and nobly classed.


I

may
Nor

not ponder here nor muse,


let

the plain truth designate

The things it would. The hangman's noose Unmans, deters, doth reinstate The inquisition and its hell Of terror, tyrannous and fell.
Oh!
that thou'd grant

me

^race, despair,

my pain, Or could breathe some form of prayer. Or might some suasive word obtain.
dread,

My
I

my

sore distress,

Through which

to

move

to

clemency
me.

The

iron

hand

that shackles

14

Fanciful thought;

must not hope,


hate;

Nor question prejudice and


For they who read

my

horoscope
rule

Say

that the stars

which

my

fate

Designed me

for vile tyranny,


fetter

And

plunder while they


grovel, squirm

me.

They bid me Nor strive

and whine,

against vile calumny;

And

vain the thought that would decline


to

Submission
For

such tyranny; from


to
its lair.

like a wild beast

The

state doth

hound me

despair.

My

fancy, sure, revives at times,


to

Soars, but

beat

its

weary wings

Against a bar, that basely limes

Me

in

my
to

hope; vilest of things.

So

dire, so fell, but strong

my

prison

Hope

escape

it

is

derision.

And
1

yet there often

comes

to

me,

know

not how, from

whence nor where;

But comes the thought perpetually.

That

justice is not deft to prayer.

Though it seems barren, yet for me. With good is pregnant destiny.

15

Then wherefore should my

soul repine,

Why
Nor

be disconsolate and sad;

All things are well in Fate's design,


great, nor small, nor good, nor

bad

Has

aught to boast of o'er the clay,

Tyranny plunders, day by day.


Fret not, dear soul, whene'r the proud.

The haughty proud, would press you hard. Have they so far subdued the shroud. That clay can now assume the God?
Whate'er
its

form, or hue, or clan.

Clay's not the measure of the man.

The cup where

dazzles bright the wine


distant day

Was

in

some

and clime

Crysalis of a soul like thine;

There

spirit,

daring, once did climb,


itself

There dwelt and thought

a god

'Twas

but a tenant of

the sod.

Who

is

so great

among mankind,
still is

His infancy knew not the womb;

And, coming thence,

not blind,

To wombed
Whate'er
his

life,

as he the tumb
its

Enfolds within

dank embrace,

prowess, clan or race.

16

And

who's so smgll

that,

should he
of

fall,

Jehovah takes no note

him?
all

Though he be spurned by kings, and Who frown men down with visage
Methinks
he'll

grim,

be as grand

in

clay

As
I

he

who

tortures

him today.

know not why Nor why of me


I

live

or die.

the Lord should reck.

When
The
I

like the bruis'd

reed prone

lie,

tyrant's heel

upon my neck;
that
is

simply
that

know
its

Caste

is

blind.

And

hope

vicious mind.

Because God loves

He

doth chastise,

And makes
Then
let

another race the rod;

the chasten race be wise


the lash
is

And know

not the

God;

'Tis not the rod's; chastisement is

Eternally and justly His.

We

have forgot our own household, To take our tribute to the strong-The willing vassal, young or old.

Deserve chastisement

late

and long;

And

ours

is

but the well-earned hell


faithless infidel.

Of wanton,

17

The Love That Would Not Keep.

THE LOVE THAT WOULD NOT KEEP.

E'VE reached
'Tis pity, but
It

diverging paths, dear heart,


true,

'tis

we

part;

may be

thine, itmay

be mine;

But truly the fauh seems thine. But place


it,

dear, just
it

where you

will,

The

fault, let

be mine.
the wound, dear heart.

However deep

Or No No

slight, eternally

matter

matter

we part, now who is to blame. who must weep.

The The
I

cruel fate that severed us;

love that would not keep.

long for rest, the quiet rest

Of home, and peace, and happiness. That wedded hearts presage, 'tis mine To know the emptiness of thine, The jealousy of fick'e heart To which thy fears incline.

No

longer now would conceal. The blight, the pain, the curse The misery you know, and yet.
I
I

feel;

Dear

heart,

would

forget.

The The

cruelties of nuptial ties.


fatal

day we met.

19

BHI
*^^^^^^^|

^^^^^^^HSS^SL*^ IBJik

\m

The Deed

vs.

Assessment Rolls.

"

THE DEED
HE
Would be
If still

VS.

ASSESSMENT ROLLS.
roll

real estate

assessment

but^plundering per se,

the courts did not control

And

hold that deeds convey the fee.


of

Like holy writ and creed

fane,

Heart

to heart,

and cheek by jowl,


still

The

courts their virtues

retain.
roll.

And keep
By
it

the deed above the

they stand, by

it

they

fall.

What
They

e'er the ambiguities.

look to

its

intrinsic call.

For metes and bounds

efficiencies.

And
That

if

they should consult a clue.


itself

The deed The

must furnish

that;

rolls are not the points of

view.

courts stand uniformly "pat.

23

Irene.

IRENE.

the mid year s afternoon,

me and
1
I

nature blushing June,

my bonny girl, Irene, And meet her neath a bower, Where the roses all a-flower.
go calling on

Shed

their fragrance in a deluge on Irene.

In all the

world

know.
this;

There's nothing
'Tis happiness,

just like
'tis

bliss!

And

it

delights

me
I

so;

There's nothing
In all the

just like this.

world

know.

Hers

is

blissful

company.
Irene;

And I'm happy, don't you see. When I'm calling on my bonny
In the haunts that

girl,

harbor her,

There
Blends

a scent of lavender
its

sweetness with the roses


world
I

for Irene;

In all the

know,

There's nothing
'Tis happiness,

just like this;


'tis

bliss!

And

it

delights

me
I

so;

There's nothing
In all the

just like this.

world

know.

There

is

magic

in

her eye,
to vie,

And

the

Graces seem
fold her in

In the placing of their glories

on Irene,

When
And

my

arms,

Captivated by the charms.


the fascinating taction of Irene,

In all the

world

know.

There's nothing
'Tis happiness,

just like this;


'tis

bliss!

And

it

delights

me

so;

There's nothing
In all the

just like this

world

know.

28

Forgiven.

FORGIVEN.

'D roamed around by no

ties

bound,
will;

But fancy's vain and fickle

Squandered my youth and trampled


Beneath
IVly

truth,

my wayward

feet, until

carnal heart had taken part

In all that pride finds pleasure in,

While fathoming the depths


At
I

of sin.

this vile

wantonness, one day

lost

my

immortality.

And stood Of sheol's

before the open door

grim
to

reality;

Brought face

face with death, and grace,

Jehovah's loving kindness, spurned,

How

cravingly

to live

yearned.
life,

Praying
I

for life,

immortal

offered

what

had

in lands.
I

Silver,

my

gold, the fees

hold.

And
I

all

the labor of

my

hands.

The decalogue, through fear of God, vowed to keep; yet none of these The king of terrors could appease.

31

At

last

prayed for

li^ht

and

said,

Show

me,

Lord, the way; what


I'll

Thou

Wouldst have me do
Forgive!

now

pursue;

Cool thou
to

Teach me

share

my fevered my brother's
if

brow.
care.

To

love mankind; and

not me.

Bless Thou,

Lord, mine enemy.


a great acclaim,
hills

At this there came Hosannas from the

of peace.

Angelic throngs broke into songs

And Mercy
Of The

brought

me

sure surcease

blighting pain,

and

o'er again

Jehovah reckoned unto me


righteousness of purity.

32

The Shady

Side,

THE SHADY

SIDE.
life's

HERE'S

something fascinating on
side,

dark and

sombre

When
at

the

worn and travel-weary seek


tide;

for rest

even

In the

shadows where
that

the

fallen

come
to

to

muse

on faded hope,
Expectancies
vanished
like

bubbles

blown from soap.


If

you should reach the shady side


thinks you'll find,

of

life

meso

Some who have

found

the

upper

world

heartless and unkind,

And

so disposed to torture with the despotisms


there

They had

to

seek the shadows as a refuge from

despair.

Take him who grubs


way,
Till "biz" is rich
its

for fortune in a systematic

in

promise and responsive

in

pay.

And

faith

ascends the zenith


star,

lit

with hope, his

lucky

And watch him when


repartees that bar.

the

nagger

plies

her

Then see him


all

with

the

languor and forlorn

in

his air,

A
In

standing on the
stare;

curbstone

in

a semi-vacant

pendulous vibrations 'twix the club-room and


his wife,

This

solace,
life.

that

nagger,

to

his

swiftly

ebbing

35

The

wife

is

simply nothing

if

she can't assert

her rights;

Cannot attend the


nights,

socials

and the musicals

of

And

there forget the promise of our sunny years

flown long

With the graces


of

of the angels

and the eloquence

song.

But the wayward, something wiser than your wife,


plays on your whim.

Veneering

all

your

failures with

the glow of

triumph's glim,
E'er sees in you

some greatness, never

finds in

you a

fault.

You're every whit par excellence, though brim-

ming

full

of malt.

We

cannot help but like them


otherwise,

if

we dared do

Their sympathy and fervor would their meaner


selves disguise;

So

far

transcend

the

nagging of

our double-

tongued wives.

The

nuptials
of

were but prose beside the

lyric

our lives.
life is

With naggers,
and snort

painful

if

they do not roar

With frenzy and with


retort;

fury,

and the trespass

of

And
You

club

men

are so constant in
air.

their social

thought and
just forget

deception

is

the glory reigning

there.

36

Men know
is sin,

'tis

wrong
ol

to

wander,

that to dissipate

That the dazzle


evil spin,

the

harem

is

the

web

the

To
But

inveigle
spoil.

and

to

plunder, and to deprivate and

to the flings of

nagging wives the> make a

splendid

foil.

You may

moralize and blame them, you

may

put

them under ban.

And
But

scourge them out of Eden, from Beersheba

unto Dan;
they'll fly the track at intervals

and seek the

Shady Side, Though naggers all were angels and with


allied.

deities

lodge within the fastness of the desert waste,


or wild,

Is better^

than the

castle

hall

and palace courts

defiled

By wielding
repartee.

of

the

epigram

and

reign

of

Where

the housewife's pride and glory

is to

nag

and disagree.
Again, take her
the

whose virginhood bloomed on


Side,

Sunny

Who

had no whim
satisfied;

unfavored and no wish not

But loved while young, and loving, took the

first

mad

leap and

lost.

And

see what door will open, and what lord will

be her host.

37

If

she, perchance a

mother, friend, should

visit

you today.

Are you

not sure you'd drive her and her infant

child away;

What matron
above

of

the sisterhood

of

elite

folks

Would comfort
haunts of

give a

wanderer from the sunny

love?

Except, perhaps, they

might take him whose

purse has golden strings;

Or him who
things;

has a

title to

estates

and fees and

Aye!

truly they

might lord the

man who dragged


of

the

maiden down.
him take
his

And

let

pick

hearts

from

daughters of their own.

But she

who young
lost.

in

loving took the

first

mad

leap and

Must wander
at

forth hereafter, friend, a

vagabond

most.

Unless she seeks the Shady Side, where highflown hopes are furled.

And

take her portion and her chance with us of


the

Under World.
her not be weary, nor
in

And

let

her soul cast

down,

We

have no social tyrants here


a frown;

who murder with


with souls like

But noble men and women,

too,

open charts,

Who

take one's measure not from gold, but pur-

poses of heart.

38

John'' [Marshall's

Divorce

"

JOHN MARSHALL'S DIVORCE

oday

this
bill,

cause came

to

be heard

On

process and proof;


usual,

Averments

form and word,

Prolixity forsooth.

John Marshall was complainant's name,


Carrie, his wife, defendant.

He

charged as being wanton dame,


lecher rake intendant.
rote,

To

For Carrie loud they called by

The "Oyez!

oyez!

oyez.

Come into court, come into court, Or you'll be barred, oyez.


If

Carrie heard, she heeded


Default she wholly made,

not.

And John
If

has

still

a spouseless cot,

not a

buxom maid

41

And And

having heard what was averred

Of

Carrie's wanton acts,

finding she had not demurred,

The Court reviewed

the facts.

These marriage ties, the Court beheves, Have grown so lax, corrupt,
It

should and does by

fit

decrees.

Break

all

the nuptials up.

We

find the

process good and true.

With regular procedure; And on the whole there comes

to

view

The

proofs the facts concede you.


efficient these.

Unquestioned those,

All costs and fees enforced,

The Court now

orders and decrees


is

John Marshall

divorced.
of

Done

in the

merry month

May,

Year nineteen hundred

leven.

And if you would exact the day. Know you 'tis twenty-seven.

42

If

Had

a Million

"

IF

HAD A
I'd
I

MILLION.
friend,
I

*^^

(^J AD

a million

dollars,

don't

know what But now and then


I

do,

think

I'd

roam and
to

simply spend a few;

Again

think

I'd

steal

away
life

rural

quietude.

And spend

the

rest

of

among

the

simple and the rude,


I

hardly think with flippancies that

would

be imbued.

The new
1

club

woman and

her fad,

know

would elude;

Nor should my person be spruced up with


dress immaculate;

whole big million


pate would

don't

think

my

old

inflate.

'Tis true,

I'd

like
bit.

to

slip

a cog, and go

it

wild a

My

soul aglow with passion for


in the pit^

my

brother

Ay! proud

to

be with commoners,

I'd rusti-

cate a-while.

Nor would

care a cursed thing about the

latest style.

"Old brogan shoes and


the very things
I

homespun socks?
need;
sir,

For too much dress and fashion,

would

my

lithe step

impede;

An

old cord "gallus," friend, would hold

my

breeches on

to

me.

And

I'd

not care a snap about their bagging


at the

knee.
45

The
I'd

fine silk plug

and Panama are hats

do not need;
rather poise

my head beneath
mead;

the straw

of Dixie's

Indeed,

my
it

friend, I'd be content

beneath a

brimless cap,

To

sport

with

the

urching

all,

jolly,

romping chap.

With them

I'd like to

take just

now

little

bit of

ease,
I

A-Iounging where
apple trees,

used

to, sir,

beneath the

A-whittling and a-swapping jokes with Bill

and

Tom

and Ned,
flit

The while our

fancies

across the lore of

trundle bed.

46

Yea,

over

and above
truth.

it

all,

this

is

the

simple

Had
Then

the coin, and could,


lion for

I'd

spend a would

mil-

with

my youth; my true love


it

go

a-sparking

again.

And

look the love upon her grace

my

tongue

could ne'er explain.


I'd

lead her once again,

my

friend, through

old Virginia reel.

Salute her there and balance fondly feel

all;

again

I'd

The same

old

bliss so oft I've


all.

felt,

while

swinging corners

And

stepping to the

music

of

the jocund

country

ball.

These things were worth

million to

maimed
I'd

old chap like me,


I

give

it

if

could,

sir,

with a zest of

childish glee.

Oh!

if

could but put

away my

gout and

rheumatiz,

And

take an old-time outing from the pressure of

my

biz!

47

bonny

girl

and youth

I'd

take to Cupid's

mystic shrine,

That sylvan haunt

of

Dixie,

where

the jes-

samine doth twine;

Where

lilies, fiant

of

sweetness, and where

ever blows the thyme;

Where

seasons
climate
is

all

are

summer and

the

sublime
of

The

rose

aflame

beauty,

there

drops

petals on the sod,

To
In

scarlet

blush

geraniums, and passion

flowers nod

breezy swells of zephyrs that strike up


the mystic chime.

While

carol

winged minstrels in'the'glory

of their prime.

48

If

you could take the silver from


pate of mine,

this

hoary

And make
And
So
bring

it

so

my

bouyant youth could

never more decline;

me back my bonny
feel

girl

that

long-lost love again,


vivified

she might not

another touch

of pain;

The

million

dollars

you might have, and

millions o er

and

o'er;

Again

I'd

take

my

youth and love, and ask

for nothing more.

As

long as

we

could

stroll

about the old,

familiar ways.

And

feel the bouyant,

throbbing hearts of

love and better days.

49

The Thorn.

THE THORN.
IS strange that those
For us so
for

whom we

care,

httle feel;

And

those

we shun would

gladly share

So much of service, love and So much of life for us.

weal,

And
So

stranger

still,

those

whom we

serve

slightly hold the deed;

And

they our acts would best subserve.


get, .so often

So seldom

need
us.

Encouragement from

Too

true

it

is,

they hold the rose

And flay us with the thorn; And stranger still, we're foiled
Our
fervent hope
is to

by those

adorn,

Our

will is but to serve.

53

Lines to lona.

LINES

TO

lONA.
prayer,
there,

AD
To

love an

answer
I

to its

Sweet

lona,

would be

solace and caress thee;


love an
truly
I

Had

answer

to its prayer,

How
Of

wert thine;
to

But love seems prone


first

go alone.

incentives shorn.

And And

thou art far

away
it

this eve.

such an eve

is,

believe

Me lona, believe! How sorely doth thine


What
Could we now
stroll

absence grieve.

happiness wert mine,

and soul

to soul

Unbosom and

forget.

57

Sweet

lona, forget, forget,

Unbosom now and


Be Of
thou thyself,
love's
in the

freely let

Vain, fickle pride depart.

come

let

us yet

nepenthe drink,
olden and the golden

As

Happy, dreamy days.


For
this I'd stroll
all

with thee, sweetheart,

From
I'd

the social world apart,

go once more with thee;


I

Nor would
Sharp the

care

how keen
fills

the dart.

wit,

nor foul the tongue.


the ear

Of Of
I'd

rumor, dear, that


gossipers

at large.

rather stray, sweetheart, with thee,

Than know the sweetest ecstacy. Of elite folks and grand. Nor question my destiny. Be it but linked with thine; For he lives best who is caressed By the woman whom he loves.
I

58

The moon is at its best tonight, The sky is fair, the stars are bright, The air, bescent'd with flowers, Goes winging by in zephyrs light

As Aeolus can blow them; And by the way he winds


Of
It is

the lay

other youths and lassies.


the hour, the

happy

time.

When When

lovers strike their sweetest chime

Of deep and
That ripple

fervent wooing;

looks are vows, and


into smiles
to all

vows sublime,

and blend
they ought.

Assenting thought

When
And

words were mean expression.


line

on the border

between

The upper and the lower sheen, Of day and mystic night. Our wounded love and pride, wean.
I

Might
In

find a

charm
all

to

soothe them.
all

mending

and blending
of

Their broken chords

weal.

59

When

Truth Comes Home.

WHEN TRUTH COMES HOME.


NCE
in a

while

in

the hush of night,

Comes

to

hope's altar out of the dark,


light.

A A

wanderer seeking
wretched waif,

in a

wretched

plight,

Comes to hope's Once in a while

altar out of
at

the dark,

night.

She's not the blond and blue-eyed queen,

Whom

Anglo-Saxon bards

all

sing,

With gauzy tresses

of flaxen hair.

Falling in golden ringlets fair

Over
Bu''

marble

bust.

simply stumbling
o'er desert,

in the dark,

Alone

waste and wild.

She comes

a child of the dark;

Poor queen, bewildered and beguiled,


Deserted, outraged and reviled,

She comes

a child of the dark


pitiful care.

Pleading for mercy's

Her weary eyes

lose their leering light

Uplift from their awful dark despair,

wistful

beam

o'er a luring

dream

In prayer for charity.

61

No powder flash for her has burned, Nor cannon roared, nor boomed for her. Nor sword in scabbard turned.
Blood of her bardel chief
But
all

to spill

have sought

to ruin her,

However much she's yearned The aid of power's bristling steel,


That shields the pride
of

Dixie's dame,

And keeps her pure; lest And every cur that meets
Might
satiate his lust.

she might
with her

reel,

The waif queen doth in horror drain The dregs of shame, her woeful plight Tells how the iron reign
Blights sire and son of Dixie's might

Their matron-spouse and lassies

bright.

Their lords of State and fane,


In spite of

caste, by thraldom's chain.


blight

The moral On human

which

this entails

soul

and human brain.

Is like a frightful destiny.

In tyranny run

mad.

62

Alike the lord of wealth and fame,

The renegade and plunderer, The libertine inane;

When my
They

waif queen appeals


life

to

such

lead a dual

with her,

And

ravish while they feign


in

To be immaculate
Par excellence
in

creed,

In utterance, infallible,

deed;
foul

The
In

vile

and chaste, they


in

and waste,

harem and
iron

church.
tone,

The

hand her actions


her own,

And mammon Away from all

leads to perfidy,

When comes
Triumphant

the lordly heir of caste,

in his lechery.

To sow his The fallow

oats

upon

of the

Under World;

And then at morn, what blasting horn? What banners to the breeze unfurled? He spurns the spouse of his carouse,
Murders when
truth

comes home.

63

The Driving

of the Cattle

Home.

THE DRIVING OF THE CATTLE HOME.

m ONG
On

ago,

when

evening's twilight,

Came
Of
By

vermilion, touched with gold.

Save where nature penciled shadows


a lassie,

herd and wold.

the emerald of the


a

meadow,

pathway

to a fold,

Came

a lassie o'er the heather.

Where

the sleek kine

browse and roam.

Calling of the cattle home.

Then
I

felt

a mystic rapture,
all

could never
the

explain;

Nor

why my
to

heart a tattoo
in

Sets

throbbing
nights
I

my

brain.

When

of

watch the embers

Of the yule-log glow and wane, Through the long and dreary evenings,
While the ghosts of things
O'er the waning embers
There's enchantment
full

that were,

stir.

and

plenty.

In

Where the cattle roam and my reminiscent fancy,

feed,

On

the em'rald of the mead;

Where
From
Till

the
the

shimmers

of the sunset.

sombre woodlands speed.


a

Fall but brightly on the pathway,


it

beams

thread of gold.

From

the moorland to the fold.

65

Now, from

ouf the icy claspings,

Of

the sepulcher of years.


of

While the glow

dying embers

On my

old hearthstone appears,

Comes an angel through the shadows. Age encumbers with, and clears
All the clouds from recollections

Of my
With
But the

truant

coming home.

the lassie through the gloam.


lassie,

heaven bless

her,

Went

a-calling long ago.

On

a cherub up in glory,

Whom

she did but scarcely know.


captive.

There the angels hold her


Envying her beauty
But of evenings
so;

when

they revel.

And

lapse to revery,
often visits me.

She as

Comes

with

all

her mystic beauty,


like the rose,

Budding on her

Blowing wild upon the heather,

With

charm

of

grace that grows

On my
In

mem'ry when I'm waking,


vision

my

when

doze.

With her

lobate bust a-heaving.

And

a scent of

lavender.

In the rustic

robes of her.

Then we

stroll again,

fond lovers,
glovv';

Through the embers waning


Not a crow-foot on her visage.

Nor

shadow on my brow;
free, as

Both as charmed, as

happy.

Now

within the afterglow.


first

As when

we went

a-sparking,

Down

the verdant hills of loam

Driving of the cattle home.


Strolling

homeward

in the

gloaming,
flight.

'Twix a nap and fancy's

As

the time upon the dial

Loiters towards the noon of night,

And
And

the yule-log, gray with ashes,


to a leering light.

Smoulders

the cerfew bells of glory

Call the lassie back from me.

Through the hazy

reverie.

Let the yule-log's embers smoulder,

And
While
I

the angels sportive be.


sit in

sleepy corner.
sweetheart, of
th(

Nap and dream,


Till the rare

and

brilliant glory

Of

the by-gones
stroll,

come
happy
vvith

to

me,

And we
Of

the

lovers,

Hearts a-welling

the swells

the tinkling cattle bells.

67

Ah, the That

subtle, pleasing fiction


is

bundled up

in

dreams.

Dreams With
Kike

that lead us on

and ravish

their sweet, alluring themes,

Diorames bright and sparkling


to

beacons over streams,


oasis

Or

like

some mirage,
oft

Of Sahara,
With

they

come

their mystic

polycrome

Onward.

ONWARD.

ET

us weld the bond of union,


the standard stronger
stil

Make

Till the

fellowship of brothers,
fulfill;

All our dreams of hope

Let us purge ourselves of error,

Spurn the

villain

from our midst,


of

Bring the shrine

honor nearer

Christian consciousness of heart.

Let us build a shrine

to virtue,

Where
Sacred

the graces

may

sojourn;

to their
let

cause forever,

There

honor's incense burn;

On

that altar let religion,

Such as Christ has given us, Be the sole inspiring mission

Of

nobler brotherhood.

71

Let us strive, and striving, conquer.


First of
all

our erring selves;

Then

we'll hope,
in the

and hoping,

labor.

As one
Till
it

quarry delves.
racial heart.

Working on our
beams,
in

form sublime,
art

Like a precious stone, which

Aided nature

to

adorn.

Onward, upward, high and


Seeking each and
all

higher.

the light;

Press, ye legions, on and up to

Freedom's dazzling goal


Grant us peace,
Since our cause

of light.

O
is

gracious Master,

one divine,
disaster

Never

let

thou

fell

Mai k our

star of Fate's decline!

72

Baby Darling.

BABY DARLING.
NCE
a

wee

bit

baby

darling,

Pure as beauty, sweet as grace, Sat upon my knee and thrilled me

With her rare bewitching


Face so With
fair,

face;

so charmed, so pregnant

the glow of buoyant soul.

That the angels paid her homage;

And, disputing

earth's control,

Trooped about her crib and worshipped Baby darling's virgin soul.
Lingered there and learned
to love her.

And
As

to

envy us the

child,

Till our jealousies

grew

frenzied,

the spirit world beguiled.

Lured and charmed, and so enrapt her

With

the ditties of the skies,

That she pined and looked the languor,

Through her fever-stricken eyes.


All our mortal love

we gave

her.

But the angels:

paradise.

75

Yes, they took her, jealous angels,

Thus
That

to

take the baby child,

All because she

was

the fairest

e'er looked on

them and smiled.


her.

Up

in

glory

where they keep

Can

they, will they really be

Half as careful, half as anxious

Of

our baby's weal as

we?

Did they really give her fever.


In their joyous

ecstacy?

Sick

of

pain, she daily wilted


a

Through
Till

typhus fever's

blight,

her

spirit

dropped

its

body-flight.

Far from earthly things took

With the cherubim then journeyed.

Up

in

yon ethereal dome,

Purest, fairest being, truly.

That e'er through it flitted home To Elysian fields of glory. Where the Savior bids all come.

76

My

Remington

MY REMINGTON.

mN

the

still
I

and
sit

silent night,
to write,

When

me down
of

There
In the

is

mystery and ease,


the keys,

movement

And

the smooth and even run

Of my magic Remington.
Let the

man who
of
all

glories

still.

In the ancient

pen or

quill.

Take

it

glory shorn,

Like that

of

his old ink horn;


in the ink

Put his paste-brush

When,

if

ever, he should think.

have now a wizard's wand.

Underneath my dexter hand.


Bringing happiness
to

me,

Through

its

runic melody.

Making

time without the waste

Of

the ink quill in the paste.

79

Alice.

ALICE.

m OMORROW
In truth,

's

but a dream, dear Alice,

it

never appears;

The past, a tenantless old palace, Where hope lies tombed in tears; The urn is broken, Alice,

Whence
But you

incense rose above;


see,
if

may

you
of

will, today.

The magical haunts

love.

My

fancy sees a chalice,


harp
all

A
A

strung, attuned,

famed, enchanted palace.

Where Cupid
The theme
In

oft

communed;

of

his dreaming, Alice,

waking or sleeping the same,


sets the soul

glory that ever dazzles.


Till
it

a-flame.

88

Like the burning bush on Horeb,

Or

lit

phosphoric seas,
is

The dream

metamorphosed,
wild pleas.

And Cupid makes

For a glance of your dark eyes, Alice,

And
For
all

a touch of your

lips,

my

dear.

the bliss of caressing.

Laughter, and song, and cheer.

Tis

to

you and none other, Alice,


thought reverts
in its fTight,

My

A
So

little

perhaps out

of

ballas'.

Perhaps with too much


That
a

delight;

crude, so humble and callous

message

it

scarce can bear.

From

a heart that

wears your image.


it

And

the passion that fixed

there.

84

Come

thou with me, dear Alice,


there's building for thee

To where

loved,

charmed, magical palace,


the

Hard by

Mexic

sea;

Where
By
that

date,

and spice and lemon

Doth blow perpetually,


enchanted palace
sea.

That looks out over the

Tomorrow?

That's cruel, Alice,


that is not?
living,
lot,

Why

speak of a day
bliss of
a

That spoils the

Makes mine

miserable

And

love's

enchanted palace

A
No

wild and desolate place;

land of dates and flowers


thy grace.

Wert blessed without

85

Hiland-Buckingham.

HILAND-BUCKINGHAM.
The
manner
in

following piece

was intended
in

as

brief *satire

on the

of

conducting elections

the benevolent societies in'the


of

State of Mississippi.

That the manner


corrupt, no

conducting elections
truth

many

of these societies is

one who regards

will

deny:

H! have you heard the boastful song

Of Highland-Buckingham;

Who

often in their zeal go wrong,

And

never care a damn.


pals, the coin

Gay, happy

and bag,
not,

The records and what


While Eddie

They'd hold by fraud, or guile and gag.


"bulls" the pot.

87

You

hold the records and the seal,


'11

And Buck
The The

hold the bag,


deal.

While John and Ed, by crooked


delegates will gag-

people's choice

we may
for that:

not be.

But what care

we

We've

fixed

it

so that you and

"me"

And Johnny
'Twas
I

can stand

pat.

in

the sunny

month of May,

think, or thereabout.

When
Of

Eddie Jones devised a way.


counting people
out.

Since Eddie taught us how

to

buck

And
^\
e'll

gag the delegate,

slime the people's choice with


let

muck

And

the rascals bleat.


will

Our John

quack

it

like a duck.

And

straddle like a clown;

Till 'twix vile

roguery and luck

We

steal for

him the crown.

88

For you the

seal, for

Or you
The
seal;

the bag and


we'll

me the bag, me swap em as we

wag,

'Twix guile and tweedledee.


We'll gull 'um here and gag
'urn there;

The delegates^ you see, Have got no rights for which we


Friend Buck,
that's

care

you and "me."

You

are
I

my

candidate, dear Buck,


jolly pal;

And
It's

your

You need

not doubt your Hiland's pluck.

cheek by jowl with mal.


the seal, for you the bag.
trust;

For

me

For John the gavel's

The

people's choice we'll buck and gag.

And

take the bag or bust.


little

Tis true, we've been a

lax

Just twenty thousand short

But

still we have the gall The people while they

to tax

snort.

89

They are such queer, such simple I mean the people, Buck;
They'd leave their rights
to clicks

things;

and rings

And
The

court the Boss and luck.


is

Boss, by jingo, he
in his

a bird,

There's magic

name.

Not by our

suffrage;

but his

word

We
On

win or lose the game.


people would not toss
tail.
"

rights, the

copper's head nor


far, to

They'd rather,

know

the "Boss

Had

drove a heeler's
of patriot!^

sale.

The days The

have passed.

Their principles are dead.


heeler has the sage outclassed
sports a price per head.
to fight,

And

For principles men used

To 'venge a wrong would die. But now they slip a cog that's tight

And

barter rights lor rye.

90

And
'Tis

there's a trait that's glorious,

In diplomatic art,

making

right so odious of heart.'

That wrong seems "pure

01

My

Brother John,

MY BROTHER
Y
And mansions
Is Httle less

JOHN.
down
own;
I

brother John has beds of


of his

The humble bed where


than stone;

rest

my head
care

But peace

is

there to soothe

my

While Brother John has

pride;

So

pity

John and

all

who bear

Great fortune's weight and care.

My
Of
To

brother John has fertile farms


cotton,

and corn and maize;


I

While naught have


look on
all

but earth and sky

my

days;
the spot

Mine's not the

lot to own Of humble cabin home;

And

ne'er the wi.ng of airy

fame

Buzzes about my name.

My
And

brother's hold

is

fixed

on gold

auto cars for tour,

That flash today in their gala way With rush and dash by the poor;

When

go

must,

tramp the dust

Whither my brother speeds,

Unawares

to the

common

lot

Of

peer,

and sage, and

sot.

95

Brother John has a splendid lawn,

Scythed and rolled and^green,

A
To
Is

verdant spot where such a sot


I

As

am never

seen.

all

that plod,

"Keep

off the sod,'

John's
I

command

today;

And

pass on and muse


is

why
gay.

clay.

Like mine, not John's,

96

IAI
I^^^^^^S J^^^^^H
.

Kiss

Me

Again,

KISS

ME AGAIN.

a
Of
I

H, give

me a kiss To mate with the bhss


I

the heart

swear, love,
a smile

is

thine;

Let

beam
all

To cheer
give thee of

the while
that
is

mine.

Now,

ere

we

part,

Let's feel your heart


In unison beat, love, with

mine;

Your head at Sweet on my


While my arms,
Kiss

rest,

breast,
I

dear, about thee


again,

twine.

me

And

then again!
tonight,

Turn Cupid wild

sweeth

eart.

Thy soul and mine By a kiss confine.


To
love's wild

dream, dear, ere

we

part.

99

My

Delight,

MY
About two
highest
of
in

DELIGHT.
crow
flies,

miles, as the

south from Meridian,

in

Lauderdale Countv, Mississippi, stands Mt. Barton, probably the


hill

East Mississippi.

One
hill;

can get a splendid view


and,
in

the surrounding country from this

the early morn-

ing or late afternoon, the


its

beauty of the

landscape viewed from

summit
I

is

pleasing.
I

frequently visit Mt. Barton, which


I

call

the

Heights of

Lauderdale.
this point,

can see and contemplete

Meridian better from

play
the

and the sweet sensations which come when the winds among the pines, and the absence of the din and noise of city, make it a hap^y resort for a weary mind.

CAN

but feel a swell of soul.


vision's broader scope,
I

Over my

When from the city's mart stroll And climb along the northern slope,
Of
Hard
Lie Heights of Lauderdale.

by, a heath

of

Lauderdale,
lea,

verdant sweep of broken

Rolls into knolls from out the vale,

And
Of

undulates and swells


bil'-'wy

sea

emerald waves.

101

Far

off

on that sea there

lies,

North of the Heights of Lauderdale,


Meridian, 'neath a haze of skies,

And

seems, upon that distant vale.

Fleet like, anchored on the deep.

How

often have

lingered there.

To have my simple
With fancy's

thought

dome

teem.

fictions of the fair,

And

catch a glimpse of beauty beam.

Scintillate

and dazzle there.

beneath some lofty pine, muse on Nature's loveliness. As oft it seems something divine.
I

And when

Places a rare peculiar stress.

Of melody

in

the pines.

Among

the pines of Lauderdale,

whispered cadence sighs along,


the

And when
And

winds become
hills

a gale.

The verdant

burst into song

sweetly soughs ravien.

And

far

away down

the cultured vale.

Echoing goes the evening hymn,

Of some rude swain


Chimes with

of

Lauderdale;

Soothing and sweet, the lay of him


the metre wild.

102

The metre wild, the metre wild, How many an eve loiter where,
I

By
I

its

sweet melody beguiled,


nature's

muse on

charms and share

Her

metrical symposium.
twilight
flies,

Sublime the scene when

Up

through the green tines of the pines,

As, on the deep vermillion skies,


Day, weary and worn, declines.

Beaming

last

on Lauderdale.

There, looking on him spent, supine,

How
To see And

oft

have

been

filled

with awe,

his gold on

emerald shine.

crimson fingered evening draw


starry curtains of the night.

The
Again
to

hear the wild anthem,

The

intonations of the pines,


the mystic airs of them

And

all

A-soughing through the vast confines

Of Lauderdale

is

my

delight.

103

Nicknames.

NICKNAMES.
E sunny years am gone and all De jolly makin' gloree time,
From farm
an' hut an'

manshun
city

hall

De

cullurd population's gwine,


try

Tur

de styles uv
lef

folks.

De Boss he And built


De

some time

ergo,

er house in town, yer kno'.


ter thrive, an* so

His plans dey seem

cullurd brother thinks he'll go


just

An'

metroperlate er while.
gits ter

An' when he
He's
'Tis
ruint

town, yer kno',

by de fashuns there;

'Tis

"Miss and Madum" So and So; Mr. Johnson or 'tis "Square"; Dhey all has nicknames up in town.

Dhar's

Sam, what
to

quit his plowin' biz

Ter move

town

dis very year;


is;

Well, he's stark crazy, 'deed he


Jist call 'im

Sam,

an' you'll hear

Him

'rectin' yer,

"Dis

Mr. Jones.

105

Lizer, his wife,

done

ruint too,
ef

Wid
An' den

her

'tis

"Madum,
all

yer please,"

she'll highfalute

wid you
de ease

Behint her fan, wid

De

big folks does up dhar in town.

Sure! ebry blessed one uv

dem Done changed his name, an' dat aint Dhey dress so fine, both gals and men,
Er country
Besides

all;

mam
of

looks ruther small


she's in town.

dem when

Dhey's got er new fandangle word For our


ol'

fashun names, somehow,


us neber heard

Dhey

titles use,

Before

de

elder's doctor

now.
all

An' de church benches

am pews.

Chile, what yer thinks dhey calls de lane

Dat

trails er
'taint

long betwix de stores?


is

Nawp,

"Big road," yer gess

vain

Yer'll

crack dat woolly pate uv yours


is

'Fore yer ken gess what

er lane.

106

"Cross-road?"

No,

sir ree, try er gin;

Nawp,
Nuther!

'tis
I

nuthin' like er

highways
yer's bin

don't care

whar

Nur what yer's heard in all yer days, 'Twas nuthin' like "Bully-Yard fur
"

lane.

Yer ought

ter

see urn
"

struttin'
It

down

Dat "Bully-Yard.

tickles
in

me

Ter see dem niggers up

town;

See Lawyer Bhoon wid Dr. Lee,


An' hear dem gent'mens 'scussin news.

107

Yer'd think dat some great folks done come

Like Linctom, Grant and Douglas wuz,

Er

batin'

human

ri'ts

upon

De

public square in Dixie, c'uz

Et kinder 'pears dat

way

to

me.

'Taint nuthin' like et uster be,

Wid

ax, an' hoe, an'

plow; dat's changed;

Dar's Bishop Smith wid his D. D.,


Presidin' Elder Reveren' Grange,

An'

Madum

Sloan, what leas'd de quare.

10!)

De

rag dat's on de bush

am

dheirs;
all

Ruther, dey take de bush an'

When

*t

comes

to highfalutin' airs,
off;

An' showin'
Dhar's

ez

recall,

nuffin' real

bout none uv dem.

IJv course, dhar

is

a better folk,

What's prudent, wise and good; but these

Mus' serve

an'

wear de

gallin'

yoke,

An' be de prey uv make-believes.


An' low
an' worthless renurgades.

Who'd have yer


An' claim
Et
to

b'leave

dhey had not seed

Er mule, or cotton patch, or ax;


be so wise, indeed,
all

somehow
Ter

yer senses

tax,

'zacley 'scribe

um

as

dhey

is.

110

The Sovereign

THE SOVEREIGN.
E have
a mighty

government

of high

and
our

briUiant fame,

Triumphant we the
kith

suflfrage

wield and

all

and

kin;

And

those

who would
awe,
is

the

nation rule

by

equity, not

Know

the

President

ruler

only

in

the

people's name;

For the

sovereign

is is

the law.

people,

and

the

people's will

The The

voter he

is

royalized, his dame's

a sov-

ereign's queen. millions ot

them common heirs apparent


invincible,

to a throne.

Whose prowess
is

is

whose
to

glory

supreme;
they will they designate
I

And whom
Their

wield

the mace,

wean.
its

common
regime.

heritage, the mace, rotation

And Washington,
glory set

impregnable, did Freedom's

Above

the rage of passion and


tion's

beyond ambihonor

blow;
to

And

Lincoln died
of the

keep

it

there, the

West;
of

government

commoners,

that

is

tri-

umphant
reign
is

yet

In the suffrage of the people, for the people's

best.

13

Yet Roosevelt brought us princely whims, and honor and renown;

And And

led the

Russ

and Japanese

to

pleasant

fields to

peace.

sent our valiant fighting tars a spinning

round the globe,

And
And

boosted up the Cabinet, and

held the

Congress down,
kept the trust contending with the gov-

ernmental probe.

brilliant

man

of

letters,

he eclipsed the

fourth estate,

And

kept the galleys flooded with his seas of


manuscript.

So coached our

representatives, with

mes-

sages of whim.

The

great

became

his echoist,

"My
left

policies

to prate.

And

everything

spectacular

was

to fate

and him.

He

found among our nation's hoards but one

who

tells

the truth,

And
And

he

is

wasting dictums

on the Ananias

clubs,

holds

in

his

opinion,

and by

all

the

rules of law.

Apparent
is

is

presumption

and

self-evident

proof.

That Harriman, and Tillman, and the World


once made
a

draw.

114

All glory

to

the President, for truly he has

rights

Which weaker

mortals haven't got and wise

ones wouldn't have,

For he can wield a mammoth club and wear


his

cap awry;
greatness he can come, crazed
frights.

With

fiction's

by his frantic

And

frail

the

mischief out of
I.

many such

as

you and

Ay,

truly

is

the

President

sagacious, great

and wise,

Who
Who
The

keeps

his soul in

peace and reigns

o'er

eighty million kings

are themselves the


lords

common

heirs

and

who

emulate

virtues of our patron sires

who

did to us

devise

The

tenue of the suffrage and the


state.

legacy of

The President
sublime.

is

glorious,

we

think

he

is

Whene'er he represents
million souls;

the

will

of

eighty

commoner

of

commoners, by commoners
the kings of every

enthroned.

And made
Whose

the peer of

all

age and clime,


glory none will dare despoil, and none

has yet disowned.

115

The
The
Till

patriots

who
is

built the realm,

have

in their

will decreed,

sceptre

the people's

and among them

shall rotate,

home

rule is immortalized in ev'ry people's

reign;

For royal blood's


creed.

fiction

and

all

royalty's a

And

suffrage
state

of

the people

still

the hope of

and fane.
Mister President, and here's
to

So

here's to

Taft the man,

commoner
here
is

of

commoners by commoners
the

enthroned;

And And

to

commoners, my countryand
equity, to party

men,

my

peers,

here's to
to clan,

law

and

And

here's to equal

suffrage

in

our govern-

ment's careers.

God

bless our

common
state,

country, and preserve

chief of

And

solace him

who

has the charge, with

all

Thy Lest many

gracious love;
should, perchance, forget this
ie

the people's reign,

We

pray Thee, Lord,


shall rotate.

to

keep

it

so the sceptre

The common people

e'er

among

in

common-

wealth and fane.

116

Sam, the Garbager

SLEEPY CORNER.
AM,
the Garbager, had carpet,

And some

scraps of
to

office

jot,

Optomacy stooped

throw him.

As he passed from lot to lot. And with these he decked his cabin
In a rather

modern
and

style;

But himself remained old-fashioned

Like

simple
to

true the while.

And

the milk of

human kindness
city
cart.

Seemed

bubble from his heart,

As

he rolled about the

In his

two-wheeled garbage
tell

He

could

about the weather

From

the corns

upon

his feet.

And
Is

he said, "De kind dat rests yer

de

drizzle, rain or sleet."

119

Dhar am sometin
Dat yer can't

in

de wedder,
al'ays splain.

jist

When
In

the clouds

am
jist

runnin' rivers
rain;

de

drizzlin' of

de

Ween
Wid

de win'

am

ez quiet,

Ez de

las' yer's

mouldin' leaves

nothin' breaking silence

'Cep'en murmurs on your eves.

Wid

de night ez dark ez Hades,


in rain,

An' er tinyus po
Er ripplin
into

murmurs
sill

Off yer windo'

an' pane,

Dhar am som'thin'

in
it

de weder

Lak

er op'ate so

seems
dreams.

Dat brings yer deeper slumber,


Dat wakes yer
In

lighter

dear

ol'

sleepy corner,

Whar

lax'tion

grows and grows,


yer
to 'pose.

Tell yer nap and nod ter music,

Dat's er

lullin'

An' de study
Dat

ripplin'
off

measure
yer eves.

am

tumblin

Seems

er lullaby of angels,
all ter

Forcin' worries

leave.

120

Den yer

soul

all

ober joyed
le

Wid
Kinder

de dreams de driz
feels dat et

weaves;

am

courted

By de nymps
An' yer mouth

of reveries;

er fallin' open,

Hangs yer
While yer
Ez de

chin erpun yer chest,


splorin

soul goes

dream

Ian

driz'le lulls ter rest.

121

For

A Woman.

FOR A WOMAN.
DEN,
lost to all but fancy,
it

Was

ever aught but legend

Handed down from sire to son, As descriptive of the region. Of the sunny haunts of love? Famous garden where the passion,
Bursting
first

disclosed the

morn

Whose
Lit

effulgent,

beaming glory

Cleft old Chaos, brain and spine;

up incense burning shrine.

In the heart of

man

for Eve.

Round
Soon

that shrine the zeal of


like the flaming

Adam,

Glowing

sword,

forgot his peaceful Eden,

And And

the order of his lord;


its thistles.

Left the garden to


his

Master

to

His wrath,

Bartered Eden for a woman.

Braved the

fates to please his wife;

Took her from


Just as
In

the lap of nature

God had

fashioned her,

her rare bewitchery.

124

Ever since

that fatal error.


story,

Whether fart or mythic From the ancient tombs of


Brought by
art

thought,

through mystic glory,

They have journeyed, both astray, Over many steeps of woe;


Through the fens and bogs
Sounding
of

shame,

Fled from sorrow unto sorrow,


all

the deeps of pain;

But never crossed, nor can again,

Eden

in their pilgrimage.

Talked with God

in
till

burning bushes.
Isr'el

Held the seas


Ate
of

passed;

manna fresh from heaven; Took a town with trumpet blast;


And,
in

Slept with lions, stood in Are;

Price of Bethlehem,

Had a God to mourn their dead, And vivify the corpse again; But ne'er since man squandered Eden

On

the fancy of a maiden. the land of bliss.

Has he found

1^25

May
Is

be, after all, old Eden wrapped within our meaner selves

Hid beneath our pride ard envy;


That the sword which us repels;
Is

our secret wickedness:

Could we

deftly

lift

the curtain

Which

the cunning serpent draws,


veil of night

Like the

about us,

We

would

find that paradise.


in winter, lies

Like a flower

'Neath the stubbles of our souls,

"So near and

yet so far away".

For who has ever purged his heart,

Of all the guilt that in it lies, Though the purging would impart To him the bliss of paradise?

Who
The

does not harbor

in his

breast

fruitage of forbidden things


lips

Culled from beauty's

and

heart.

And

folded in between the leaves


roll of reveries:

Of memory's

charm, a hope, a dream!

126

Whether
Is

truth,

fancy or legend

what

allures our faith through fears,

Let us hope beyond the shadows

Of

this

wilderness of tears.

We

shall

reach the blest dominion


failed us here;
us,

That so long has

Where our friends will cease to doubt Where our foes will learn to love;
Still let's

hope

to find the

Eden
with our maiden;

Whence we wandered
If

not here,

beyond the bourn.


life's

Let us hope

pilgrimage.

Has some other goal than Hell; Hope that we may find the glory. Whence the first degenerate fell; Hope to foil the shafts of envy; Hope to sooth the pangs of pain; Hope to find our dead are living; Hope to find our living dead To the errors time is weaving; To lip service and deceiving Hope to conquer death at last.

127

The

Jaunt,

THE JAUNT.
SIRE and
Along
youth went out upon a jaunt,
'tis

a course as old,

said, as time;

The scene was varied, beautiful, sublime; None saw ne er landscape fairer nor was wont

And

yet the course, with but veneered fiction,

all its
still

high blown vaunt,

Was
From

youth would climb

vale and foot-hill to the mountain clime;

Fear could not check him, nor could danger daunt: For hope and destiny, with mystic force.
Allured, and youth

knew

not that there lurked pain;

Yet how e'er

fair the prospect,

smoothe the course,

Few, who assension dare, can ever gain

The The

little hills

of glory there

hard by
in sky.

heights

where Fame her plumage dips


II

They journeyed first a-down a verdured vale, By sunny fountains, and by gurgling rills,

Where he amused himself by piping quills To a fair damsel with a milking pail; Then frowned the sire and at the youth did rail Some suasive reprimand, and of the hills Of fame would say, no man ascends who wills To pipe his pibroch to a lover's tale; Then youth, impatient, strolled alone and sire Trailed after, like mother's hope, for he knew The sure fatality of love's sweet lyre. Then youth took winged ankles, swiftly flew
Unto the bowers of
a floral grove,
into

Where Venus wooed him

dreams

of love.

V29

Ill

Umbrage and guile were there, and said "Ah The hope of fame's but fancy's fiction set To the fitful music of life's calumet;
If

friend.

you'd do well, be gay and happy, tend

The revelries and be content to spend The time at song and laughter, and forget The rampage of thy sire, just let him fret;
Ere you achieve
life's

honors:

life will
let

end:

The wise

fret not but

Jeast and

their mirth
will

Flood deep: for tomorrow shadows


Burdens, and hope a plague: the
Is

be

salt of earth
levity,

cheerfulness mixed with wit and


matter whether good or bad
it

No

be.

Cheer

on, for mirth's a foil to destiny.

IV
At
this youth

vvandered from the beaten way,


to a festive air;
fair.

Piping his pibroch

The maid,

her virginhood a-budding

Forsook her kine, the mystic rounderlay


A-carrolling, and tripping like a Fay,

At

love's

enchantment, wended with him there.

Her

breast a heave neath silken gauze, her hair


gay,

With myrtle wreathed, both passion drunk and Forgot the care and wisdom of their sire,

And
Its

all

he ever taught them of the course.

lapse of righteous law, the strife and ire

And carnivals of crime, the vicious force Upon the sense of innocence at large. And never grant it respite nor discharge.

"

V
In

such a plight the sire might well despair


with his

Of converse
Still

wayward

child; but he,

on the course did


late

loiter long, to

see

What

pedestrian would there repair;

But care possessed his soul and through his hair

Did nervous fingers dig his


Its

pate, to free

thought of virtue's ebb, and fate's decree.

Youth, spurning his solicitude and care,

Sang on, and danced in love's sensual haunt. With Venus fair, until the gray dawn blushed

To crimson on
Did innocence

the cheeks of morn; then gaunt


lie

on their

wan brows, crushed

And And

wilted, like a wild rose on a stone;


to his sire

youth plied quibbles of his own.

VI
Misogymy's dead world you fled, 'tis said. With woman fair and fickle. Sire, and strolled Along life's sunny side an ardent soul;
If not a

reed you piped, 'twas that you played

A A
So

stringed instrument and to

Venus

laid

Your

heart, a tribute unto her control.

And

thought the drama brilliant

when

the roll

master should have played, the buffo swayed:


Sire,

away

till

I've

sown my "wild

oats,

And
Hold
In

scythe, keen scythe, has

mown

the grain of mine;

thou! thy tongue, my lord until the moats my eyes grow to beams like those in thine. And then the two grew reckless in their thought. And neither saw the other as he ought.

131

Vil

Then

youth, a plunging heedless in the chase,

Went deeper down than honor e'er was wont And lost his virtue in the dismal haunt. Where vice and sloth doth chastity deface, And love is but a license to disgrace. What ever fair and gracious is; where gaunt And reckless villians, shorn of shame, doth flaunt
Perfidy's triumph in the public place.

The

lassie, lost to

mother's love, and truth


feet;

Saw And
For

scenes where Grace had never placed her


at a

time she

knew

not

of,

gay youth
light, too fleet

Took wings and

flew like

beaming

her, she sought the

shades

of solitude

and yearned

For what age had taught her and she had spurned.
VIII

Many

Summer

past them ere youth

knew,

The purpose of his pilgrimage, and he. Too often wayward, wilful, wild and free.
Returned unto the jaunt and would pursue

A wiser,

if

not better course; but

few
flee;

Are those who do their childhood's errors They cling unto old customs and must be
Progressive
in

performing what they rue

The coquet, still a flirting, oft will feign, Her waining summers are but budding springs,
And,
in the

realm

of passion, long

would reign

Where honor And later on,


Is

should preside o'er better things.


in

wed-lock

find that

life.

noblest in the mother that's a wife.

132

IX

Beware
Set

of

women who
is

are quoquetts, bard,


a fatal dart,
art,

Their ruhng passion


to the

fancy of sensual

Of
If

zeal their souls are void, cold, sterile, hard.


heart's vivacious flame in

The

them

is

charred.

they are old, and feign the maid, lose heart


hope; for prone
to drift

And

from grace apart,

They'd crush the fervor

of thy fond regard;

For, though they have refinement, graceand ease.

They have
Nor

not love's enchantment nor

its

flame;

For they are outlawed by Hesperides,


are, nor

can be, ever more the same;

Bright, charming, gay; but neither wise nor good.

They

are but

shadows

of their virginhood.

All

who have seen them

in their glory

say

That men have rarely neath

their sceptres passed,

Who
The

did not feel that something awful

massed

passions carnal,
fell not,

in their souls;

and they

Who

look on that eventful day

As one, in which the fair dissemblers, masqued As cherubim of light, were by them classed
Good friends immaculate, whom to inveigh Wert madness; such were the whims of youth. Who did the woman, fallen in her prime.
Adore; and, spurning virtue and
fair truth,

Did hold the ways of wantonness sublime;

However much we chide them

still

they get
fret.

And

dissipate our fortune while

we

134

XI

And

though you deem one gracious, fairer Than fabled nymph, or ought that lives in Romance and drama, or the toilings long Of art, at form and grace and charm all

far

song,

are

But false conceptions of thy beauteous


She'll spurn thy

star.

hopes and

will not right, but

wrong,

Consider; free love's her realm; among

The sons
The Her

of

men her
is

will doth often

mar

Fortunes; passion

her sceptre; the ^reat

good, the wise her prey; genius her toy;

smiles the gods doth conjure with and Fate,

Doth of her mien and beauty make decoy


For human souls:
if

life

means aught

to you,

Beware,

lest

her bewitchery you rue.

XII

Thus spoke the sire, to youth, who knew the force Of woman shorn of blessed chastity; And then he masqued the boy, that he might n't see And led him down a by-path from the course;
But on the ears of him, from
its

sweet source
me,"

Some

rythmic music swept

its

cadencyat

"A

damsel shook her tambourine

Said youth, and then a stupor, like morose

Was

his; for in

him the music witched and haunted,


in flight.

Soothing

melody, like chords

By some
So well

fair

being touched^and love enchanted.

Sent wandering and echoing through night,


the temptor plays
.lis

subtle role
fall

That they who on the by-path

lose soul.

135

XIII

Then

to the

temple of the wise did age

Lead youth, and bade him with the muses mate His soul, embelish and enrich his state

Of mind, and

so enlarge his heritage.

That lucid wisdom might declare him sage;

And

well the youth applied him long and


at

late;

But ever and anon

wisdom's

gate.

The song

of sisters fallen rung;

engage

Him

as he would, with books, he could not part

beautiful, a woman's face, Nor th' sweeter memoirs of his fickle heart; So he, between his study and her grace.

With phantom

Swung

like a

pendulum,

in fitful doubt,

Till carnal

passion

won him and he spoke

out:

XIV

Oh

let

the sage get

what he can from books.

Divert from science and purloin fom lore,


All will but tax his energy the more.

Derange digestion and confound

his cooks.

Where

e'er his path of glory runs or crooks;

He'll find that mortals journeyed there before,

And

found what he shall find on evVy shore;


the the

The more he learns, The more he shows


That
fate allures

more same

the sage he looks. old grooves he treads

him with the same old charms.


else besides life's shreds;

And
The

gives him

little

gold he hoards, his princely fees and farms,

All that fortune brings him, might

commands.

Tomorrow

fate will place in other hands.

130

XV
who the tensures hold. who peasant, lord, or king; Whether we laugh, or we weep, or we sing; As we climb the heights, or go down the wold, When Youth is fervent, or when Age is cold. We grow immortal if we simply cling To self denial and will kindly fling
It

matters

little

Who

vassal

is,

Charity's mantle o'er the wilful souled;

He who
To

goes thus to the end of his cord, With which environment encumbers him,
aid the fallen of
to

mankind,
is

is

lord

Superior

him whose law,


is

whim;
is

Whose
Though

hope,

pedigree;

whose God,

Caste,
vast.

his grace

were crowned with dominions

XVI
They
sat

them then upon a mossy stone.

Where

glances of the eye could sweep the plain,

And Youth

gave ear to him, who did explain, The strife of those who before had gone, To fame and glory, or oblivion: How small the glory and how great the pain. Of those who strive for opulency's vain Pomp and show; how little their deeds atone. The evil done, the paupers they have made Of happy childhood and decrepid age,

That lucre might prance 'neath a gay cockade:

Tyranny have

its

minions,

pomp

its

page

And

avaricious misers hoard the coin.


the innocent and just purloin.

They from

137

XVII
While thus
their light

and happy discourse ran,


peddler's cart,
mart.
a clan

A
Of

hag came riding

in a

Drawn by a filly to the pnblic The hag was old, the filly for
robers
fit,

or bold equestrian;
in start.

horse she needed that was sure


not a
filly

And And And

that

would jump and


in a

dart.

prance and gallop


sure there

trading van:

came

man with

steed for trade,

That sturdy was, road-proof and bridle wise;


Ne'er had he shied and ne'er a balk had made.

Her nag she swapped The steed she gst had

with him; and what surprise:


lost its eyes, its

speed

Was

ox-like

and

its

urgent want

was

feed.

XVIII

The villain mounted, on the filly fled. Nor looked he back, nor cared how ill her luck, Nor in the mire how fast the hag was stuck,

Who
"I

o'er her

filly's loss,

lamenting, said,

wish the
fell to

filly

and the rogue were dead,"


at

Then
Till

nagging
in

the

maimed

old buck.

she forgot and

her anger struck

Him a blow so hard, on his dense old head. He fell the carcass of a quadruped; And then she journeyed o'er the course unknown.
Morose, unpitted and disquieted.

With nothing on earth she could call her own, Brought from the harvesting of human strife
But steedless apple cart and such
is life.

138

XIX

As was

the hag with

filly,

steed and cart.

So is it with whoever journeys here, Whatever his endeavor, hope or fear,


In the contest at

arms, the

toils of art

Or

barter and trade in the world's great mart;

In heart affairs,

be

it

laughter and cheer,

Or what No
Is

is

better

still,

staunching a tear
stranded heart,

A-drip from rupture

in a

matter which, experience alone

the

supreme
all

tutor of

human

thought;

With

the learning of the schools one's own,


not caught
brings,

Still he's a simpleton, who has The inspiration which contact To him who rubs elbows with

serfs

and kings.

XX
On
youth the sire looked wistfully and smiled,
his

Wondering whence

wisdom came and


to

he,

But yesterday a child, had grown

be

Pensived souled; and, sore

of

waywardness, whiled
unbeguiled.
free;

Away
At

the time; his mind,

now

issue on the void; 'twix


all

bound and

Why
Of

who

labor should not earn the fee


toiling,

freemen; and,

be undefiled

By odium, caste and greed, miscalled fate, By men who feed their maws upon the hard
Earned wage
of

honest

toil;

degenerate

And fallen must he be who the award Of serfdom does not spurn, though wide gaped Him to coerce and he with Satan fell.

hell

130

"

XXI
Standing upon an eminence, they saw

As far beyond as mortal eye could scan, Upon a plain, a myriad host that ran,
To and
fro, its

confines, to

hum and haw.

And

hesitate twix

anarchy and law;

The vile negation fixed on the hide of man, The vagaries of parties, sex and clan, Where despotism's power sways to awe The weaker man, by terror into thrall;
"It

ever has and ever will be


to

so,

Said he

Youth,

"If

aright recall,

Man
The

is

the prey of

man

the

wide world
sand and

o'er

Since Cain hid Able

in the

fled

stark, cold visage of a brother dead.

XXII

They now were

well advanced upon the way.

Some
Of
his

forty leagues or more,

and youth would

fain

companion's further discourse gain

Intelligence about the course,

Before them

still,

a theatre

which lay where play

The

great and petty lords of earth, with vain

Hope; there humanity, an ebbless main.


Floods on, and on, "Forever and a day,"

The meed

of

its

pursuit the

same

old toys,

Wealth, greed and power; or the tyrant's stroke

That makes

of

weaklings slaves, or them destroys;


is

Let him whose soul

weak accept

the yoke.
that smites.
rights.

Unhinge

thp

knee and kiss the liand

And

grope the vassal shorn of human

140

XXIII
But he

who

feels his sou! within

him yearn

To

fly

his thrall,

and

flying,

sound alarm,
freemen

That laggards cow'ringmay have never calm;

And

he who'd vassals

into

turn,

Dethrone a tyrant and


Should shield Should

his minions spurn.

his soul against the

dread of harm;

agitate the mass, direct the storm.

Until the hearts of patriots should burn,

Struck by the thunderbolt of righteous cause.


Youth, put thou thy
frivolities aside.

Learn

of Divinity's eternal laws,

That there's no question what the fates decide;

Though

ne'er so

frail

the bark, nor rough the sea.


to be.

The

fiat is, sail

on or cease

XXIV
Far out upon the plain the youth could see

An

old cathedral

lift its

burnished spire,

Agleam into the sky. "Aye tell me sire. The story of yon pile of masonry?"

He

shook

his

hoary locks and sighed,

"Ah me:"

The record
Longer
Full

there's a tale of tense desire.


truth,

There neither

nor faith nor hope aspire

man to his destiny; many and many an age has flown.


to light

So run
With
While

the annals of that pile of stone.


for solace to its

Since man

faith in

creed and tenets there;

The creeds

are

pews has gone. 'tis known spurned, and yet some feign belief

in their

conscience they but malice sheath.

141

XXV
But there
Its

in

olden time the curfew rung

calm and rythmic melody, and there


did the peasant kneel in prayer;
its

A-weary

And

there the priesthood in

glory rung

The heart of might, and greed and wealth, and sung Te-Deum airs, kings and vassals together there
With woman
beautiful, glorious, fair.

Repaired, the penitential host among.

To

the confessional; 'twas the vica's reign;

And

well his highness did the sceptre wield.


the mighty and the poor, the fane.

Between

Then

arbiter of empire,

hung a

shield;

For whoever worshipped there, great or small,


Lost both, his caste distinction and his thrall

XXVI
By
its

grace judges

at their trials
its

swore.

And

Justice did at

behest declare,
"

"Betwixt a shadow and a shade, the tare Of Equiiy and Law, and further more Tis said, its chalice, pews and altars bore The majesty of fate; and glory there Beamed like a diadem in beauty's hair;

And
So

to

humanity the wide world o'er


tenets of the place have been,

The simple
all

tradition

and the records


life is

tell,

That

liberty

and

the right of

man;
hell,

Except when some infamous fiend of

Escaping thence, has marred the common good

Of

our

own God-created

brotherhood.

142

XXVII

And

there, in that majestic pile,

was

taught,

That our Creator, the eternal God,


Did make us from some simple
bit of sod,

Regarding not the clay

in

which he wrought.

Whether

it

Else that then

was muck of chaos, or ought was inanimate, 'twas clod


its

Whicn
The

took

being from Jehovah's nod


its

And moved
first

a living soul; in

own

thought

progenitor of

human

kind;

That mother. Eve, "Creations master-piece,"


Did from
his fancy spring

endowed with mind,

And

with the glory of the world's increase


that all the races of the earth
birth.

So charged,

Their lineage doth reckon from her

XXVIII
Forgetting he
is

one of transcient things.


love

Blind

to his

commonage and mystic

Which placed him in his order nich above The worn, vain man, grown haughty, proud, now

springs

petty god, and, gorged with pillage, sings

Of his own prowess, until the fleet wing'd dove Of peace flies this unhappy vale, to move
Henceforth and forever on restless wings.

Contemned by man: he who


Dethrones
justice,

is

himself the law

and doth the virtues spurn;

And

that he might

some humbler brother awe

Into his service, oft fiend-like, doth burn

Some

fellow mortal at the stake, and by


his ally.

Caste makes the bench, as the shrine

143

XXIX
For, so
I

take

it,

none

will

dare deny.

That there's

a cism, as well as caste in church;

The pew and pulpit have a sep'rate perch. They like dissension, and my, my, my! When it comes to a fellow man, how they do

lurch

And

on the tangent

fly,

squirm o'er and smirch

Beatitude with vile hypocricy;

And

of self-righteousness together vie

In feigning love to

God: yet spurn the

test,

Which
It's in

says you love not him you've never seen,


fellow mortals from your breast:

While spurning

the ethics of the Nazarene,


the surest to the

They come

mercy

seat,

Who

!ove the people

whom

they daily meet.

XXX
The passion service of our Lord no more Reminds men now that He will come again, Nor does it show the anguish, care and pain Of Him whose sacred heart for mortals bore The sin accumulations of the sore.
Deluded wanderers from Eden's
reign,

Who

prostitute the

sacraments with vain


the altar soar

Display; they

who around

In fashion's garb, love not the

mystic shrine;

They congregate and babble

there, not prayer.

But quibs of fashion while they sip the wine.

And

claim God's mercy, since they there repair;


sitting

While

on the

altar,

cheek-by-jowl.
soul.

Devil and parson barter

human

144

XXXI.

And An edifice of grandeur with a dome; Tell me what ruler, sire, made that his home; What of his passions, prowess, tenures, lands; What people came and went at his commands,
there hard by the old cathedral stands,
In the

olden times, ere he had passed

to

loam?

Ah, youte! Your query bids my mem'ry roam


Across
a dreary waste of shifting sands;

A mighty
The

^eople they,

who

tribute paid
in its

lord of

yon old castle

prime;

But he, as well as they, have long since laid

His glory by with

th'

annals of his time,

Which show

that he, of old,

was held

to

be

shield for high and low, for bond and free.

XXXII.

From

time immemorial, the ruler there


king,

Was
From

and lord and vassal

too;

and high

his exalted state he cast the die


still

That wrecked a throne, or made a crown;

where

tyrant would have murdered, he heard prayer,

And And

then he'd put the sceptre's terror by

clemency,

its

brighter glory, try


fair.

On

penitent souls; yet withal, the

The mean,

the low, the opulent and grand

^^ hoever stood before him, king or serf.

No

matter which, nor what his native land,


earth.

His prime anatomy he held but

With all the rank and file of human kind, With him, man's fitness came from upright mind.

143

XXXIII.

And Themis was


O'er
all

his patron,

and his reign

man's civic glory was sublime;

The

soul of virtue

and the ban of crime,


at felony,

He He

neither

winked
to

nor feign'd

Friendship

vassals while he gave them pain;

took them as they came, from time to time.

Upon the records of their manhood's prime; To fix a right 'twix man and man, he fain Would storm a citidel, or spurn a crown; Unknown to quibbles and to factions blind.
Caste was a
fiction

he could never Ovvn;

The

soul of equity by

him defined.
and blood.

Excluded

favor, pedigree

As

blights destructive of the public good.

XXXIV.
Because
Aversion
of

his imperial bent of mind.

His erudition and


to

his lofty poise.

vain glory's

pompous

noise;
logic find.

And

the ease with

which he did of

The motive of an act and hope combined; Just what was sterling worth, and what alloys,
That
filled

the measure of their carnal joys.

Men

called him siern, inexorable and blind:

But Justice was his name, the law his shield,

And, say

the legends of his time

and age.

So long as

Justice did the sceptre wield.


of

Men

felt

no terrors
fatal

a tyrant's rage;

But on a

day

for them, bold caste

Did Themis rape and Justice strayed outcast.

146

XXXV.

Why
And

further scan the annals of the vile,


to

Since riddle seems


often crime
is
it

mystify the
to

light;

reckoned
plunders

be

right,

When
And
Must

innocense

to defile:

Youth, the prey of vanity and


die

guile.

and age

live on:

by day, by night,

Harrassing soul

till

time and wear unplight


let

The

heart?

Why

not

weary

spirit file

Into the vista of the years that

make
fall,

Eternity?

Why
is

not the curtains

Since youth

gone and whither none can break

Intelligence, nor ever

him recall?

For he comes not back when he and the sage


Jaunt down two score years of their pilgrimags.

XXXVI.
But hear his low soliloquy you may,
'Far, far

away,

in the

land of dream and hope,

What

leisure

Time

did gently take; to

mope

And

play the truant seemed his wont, delay

His virtue was, minority a stay With which he vexed wild youth, a fetter rope That held captive, so ne'er a sunbeam oped The morn, but Time would dally it away,
seemed; but at forty, when fain So Would rest. Time flew, fleet as a beam of Then 'twas the flight of Time did give me
it
I

light;

pain,
flight,

How
He He

pitiless is

Time!

When
old,

gloried in

bade me climb; now,


bids

lame and

blind,

me pace

it

with the rushing wind.

147

XXXVII.
"Seeking repose,
I

fifty

slept, awoke and found summers gone, gone like a dream,


1

me! how brief, huw silently they teem; The years at fifty, winged years, that wound The pages of youth's blotted scroll and bound
It

Ah

to inertia,

whence my

foe,

supreme
theme,

Nemesis comes, chanting

a doleful

The advent
Glory
in

of Fate, and bids


of all

me

with her sound

The requiem

my

hopes, or fiud

reminiscences of things That were: but now, plumeless and bare, behind IVIe lie the broken pinions of Fancy's wings

Where memory journeys in her pensive mood To sit upon the tomb of youth and brood."

I4H

INDEX.
PAGE.
Again, Kiss
Alice

Me

99

83
75

Baby Darling Brother, John


Caste, Lines

My

95
14
1

to

Country,

My
Assessment Rolls

Deeds

vs.

Delight,

My

23 101
41

Divorce, John Marshall's


Eulelia

10 31 61

Forgiven

Home, When Truth Comes Home, Driving The Cattle


Highland-Buckingham
Irene
lona, Lines to

65 87

Jaunt,

The The That Would Not Keep The Haven of the


If
I

Nicknames
Love,
Lees,

27 57 129 105
19 4 45 71

Million,

Had

Onward
Remington

My

79
113
119
*

Sovereign, The

Sleepy Corner
Thorn, The

Shady

Side,

The
a
.-

53 35

Woman, For

124

ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE.

Where
Euleha

the Cattle

Roam

Reading
Irene

My

Brief

9 20 24

Under the Apple Trees A Bonny Girl The Old, Familiar Ways
lona
:

46
48

The Lassie The Typewriter


Alice

John
John's Mansion

Pleading for a Kiss

Sam, the Garbager

The Wife

50 55 69 77 85 92 93 96 121 133

CORRECTIONS
The The The
5th
1st

word
word

in

13th line oi Introduction


is

is

"voice."

in
in

8th Hne on page 5

"weHing," not wielding


is

1st

word

2nd

line

on page 27

"Time," not me.

"I" is omitted in

12th line on page 28.


of

The
tombs.

4th

word

3rd line

on

page 125

is

"tomes," not

The 3rd word


"Prince," not Price.

ir

6th

line

ol

2nd

stanza,

page

125,

is

The 3rd
should be
's.

'yvord in

the 9th

line

of the Sonet in the Preface

The

6th word

in

the 8th line, page 101,

is

"contemplate."

There should be more space between


line,

"it"

and "may"

in

3rd

page 19.

The

last

word word

in 1st line of
in in

page 63

is

"fane."
is

The
The

5th
5th

6th line, last stanza, page 67,

"comes."
"voice.'

word

13th line of the Introduction

is

iria i2

mi

s:i

One copy

del. to Cat.

Div.

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