· gre eting. to the world . i send herewith my songs and poe hoping they will be received in the...
TRANSCRIPT
GRE ET ING.
To the world . I send herewith my songs and poehoping they will be received in the Spirit in whthey are written . They are simple songs for the comon folk
,in common walks of li fe . I have had
share in the struggles of l i fe , and hope al l will 6something in this volume to help along. I t is a pleure to lend a help ing hand .
I f this volume meets my expectations morefollow . I have enough written to make n ine orvolumes . I f this volume should cross your pathwould be glad to know what you think of it ! a cor letter directed to me might be a great help toin future efforts .Give it a fair show at l east . I have written so
of these verses in tears , and some with pleasure . Kucing all need the help ing hand , here is m ine . Wheryours ?
I . N . FITH IAN.
Grove City , Pa. , July 2 2,1913.
Readers wish ing the next and next volumes , kinsend in orders to my address , and I will file them,
notify youwhen they are ready .
I . N . F.
CONTENTS
Let the Wild Winds B low,
A Hungry H eart Cries for SongMy ShadowA Confidential Letter,L ist
’
n ing to the Cricket,O ne Hazy Day,Our FlagMy Own Land Forever,The Ego,“Punkin” Pie,Where A re the Chi ldren ?
Give Me the Wings,
They’re Gone , .
Come , My Beloved,
Summer’s Coming,
Lord , Why I s I t So ?I f You W
’
ould Win,
The Good O ld Summer ,A Man Wanted,A Sleepy Dream
,
I f You ’re Going to Win,A m I a Dreamer ?
Spirits of the Night,
Nearer to TheeWind Up the Clock,Come Where Glory Waits You
,
Oh, I Would Be !Maiden
,L isten
,
Sunlight,
Who Touched Me ?
My Best Gir1, .
6 CONTENTS.
I Saw H im Courting,A ll Nature Calls,R ich and Rare
,
Touch Myl
L ips ,A Slave to Hate ,I Wi ll Be Free
,
The Good and the Bad,A liceNow I Lay Me
,
Tell Me Thy SecretsA bide T ill Eventide
,
Drive Demon Hate,
E choes of O ld Home,Fighting Rum
,.
! ueer People ,D oucher
’
s Baby,Turn Back
,Ye Years
,
A ll Ready in the Morning,The Griefs of Earth ,I’
ll Sing My Song,My Bugle
,
I’
m Lost ! I ’m Lost !L ive and Be Gay ,There A re H eavy Loads,I’
m Growing O ld,I Built Me a Home ,Oh, Dreamer, Wake !O ld T imers Meet,I Wander H ere
, .
O n Jordan ’s Banks ,The M i lls That Grind,How Strange I s L i fe
,
Bl ind Man’s Sight,God Bless My Dad !Sweet Dreamland,
CONTENTS.
YouNeed Not A sk Me,
I Gaze on the H i lls,The Power to See,In Mother Dust,I Bowed Jenny Home,The World Rolls On ,
My Dreams Today,Hail the New Year,The King Will Come !There A re Joyful Voices,Days Go Past, .
Sad A re the Cries ,I Wish I Was Young,Herod
,
H ear, Oh H eavens !Ye Stars of L ight,I’
ll T ell My Tale,There Was a Boy ,
The Thorn T ree ,The N ight at Rest
,
Hail Our King, the Humble Man ,
In Saner Moments ,
Be Gentle , Waters ,Take My Hand,The King Will Come,When L i fe I s Done ,Oh, What a Sweet Secret ,Out on the H ills
,
A L ittle Fellow,
Poor Me, .
A ll Our WaysI D ream the D ays Away
,
I f We Were Not So B l ind,
8 CONTENTS.
Summer Day’s Coming Soon,A Storm Came Down,United Let Us Sing,A pril SnowSwell, Swell Ye Winds,.B lest Be the Day We Met
,
Mother’s Prayer,
The Bumble Bee,Guide My Pen ,
On to Battle,Love I s Coy,Graduates,The B irth of Song,I Was Hungry,O ld March , .
The Days Have Come,O n Distant H ills ,My Feeble Way,Where the Sea Dogs Howl,Some T ime, Some T ime,H is Work in Galilee ,The Holy City,The Bonds,When Love First Taught
,
Why -Should We ?
A Girl Who Went Fishing,A Struggle for Home
,
I’
ll T ravel On ,
Hang O n,
So Many Laughs ,Silas C . Swallow,
Prohibition Candidate,Bubbles
,
Communion Day,
Freedom Woke,
L ittle Lad With Soft Blue Eyes,
CONTENTS.
The Common H erd,The Ship That Sailed,Long I s the Lane, .
A Mother’
sThe Land Beyond, .
The Hand That Bui lds,I sn’t I t Funny,Two T ravelers ,Raining,When Night I s On ,
Charity Dance,My First Love,'When I
’
m A sleep,
What Without the Children,Wake from Thy Sleep,The Doctor,
‘
Treasures of the O ak,
Some T ime ,How Many L ittle Children ,Come , Kiss Me , Love , .
When the Sun Sinks Low,
When Waves A re Beating,E den ’s Fruits Have Withered ,The Teetotaler’s Song,Lead Me
Out in the Woods ,Farewell , May
!
Oh, Years ,Immortality,Commune withLaughter
,
Oh, Press Me Not,Why Should a Boy a-Fishing Go ?Wings of Flight,July Weather
,
10 CONTENTS.
Back to ChildhoodGod Gives
J
Life,Would YouB loom ?
I nsomnia ,Go Hunt theA Vision
,
Friendship,
The Sea,A Pi lgrim H ere
,
Did the Stars Sing ?The Dreams of L i fe
,
Woman ’s Weapon,
B ig I ,The Man of Jokes
,
A Boy With Breeches,My Steed of Steel, .
My Happiness I s Ended ,Lone and Desolate
,
I’
m Blind,
O ld O ctoberWhisperings in the A ir,I D eem I t Joy,What a Wonder I s a B abyMy Summer Days,Dri ft We Long
,
When Summer Comes ,O ld LedgerI Laugh ,A Hundred Years from Now
,
Where the Shadows A re Creeping,Broken Friendship ,
I Went to the H i lls ,Give Me
,
A Sweet ThoughtDeclining Day
,
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
LET THE W I LD WINDS BLOW.
L et the wi ld winds blow and soft fall the snowO
’
er the grave where I sleep my last sleep .
The slow years wi l l pass as grows the green grass,Some loved one my vigi l will keep .
Forgotten I ’ll l i e beneath the b lue sky !My name wi l l be mentioned no more .
The rivers deep flow as onward they goT i l l they strike on eternity ’s shore .
Though ages may go , stil l sleep 1ng belowI am lost to sight of all men .
My fri ends and my name , my joys and my shame,Will never be talked of again .
Let the soft wind blow , speak gentle and low,
When I sleep in silence and death .
Let the sad years pass , awave be the grass ,A s touched by a zephyr ’s warm breath .
Forgotten my bed,asleep with the dead
,
My name wi l l be mentioned no more .The sad years will go,
I reap what I sow,
A nd I’
ll travel this way nevermore .
Oh, why should I fret now over the debtWhich mercy has paid full and free !I mumble my prayer, I shed my last tear.May I wake at the last j ubilee !
He giveth me rest , for now I am blest,With the friends I st ill love so dear .The Great O ne will come when my sleep 1ng i s done ,A nd wake me to the Land of Good Cheer.
12 A PILGRIM ’
S THOUGHTS.
A HUNGRY HEA RT CR IES FOR SONG.
I cry to the heavens , I cry to the earth ,Oh! give me a song that ’s worthy of birth .
My crying is useless , my crying is vain ,The standards of music I cannot attain !
Though skies be my banners , earth and the seasShou ld wake me to song that would thrill all and
please .The broad sweep of valleys
,the l ifting of hills ,
The murmurs of rivers, the singing of rills .
The mountains of grandeur, they rise and they rise,L ike giants uplifted they ’re combing the skiesO n their maj esty and beauty I look and I see,But can ’t fathom the ocean or sing like the sea .
Wonderfu l ! Wonderful ! i s mountain and sea !They laugh at my struggles
,and smile back at me .
I pray them , I plead them , their secrets to tell ,They laugh at my pleadings
,perhaps ’ti s as well .
Oh,why should they l i sten to mortals l ike me ,
That wou ld question the oceans or p lead to the sea ?I would l isten and l isten a l l secrets to know,
To attain all knowledge , where wouldn’t I go ?
The songs of old nature wi l l never be sung.
’
Twould melt up my pen ,
’twould paralyze my tongue .The songs of poor mortals wi l l never subdueThe wonders God holdeth so plain to our view.
The song of all songs“
sti l l remaineth unsung.
I ts metre is mute , it stirs not the tongue .
So I’
m mute , I’
m silent ’mid splendors sublime ,Wh i le the song of the ages wi l l never be m 1me !
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 13
MY SHA DOW .
My shadow i s waiting, it’s talking to m e.
Wherever I go i t walketh with me !With all of my hasting, i t cleaveth to me !When I would shake it , it c lingeth to me .
Through day and through night it is with me sti l l ,I t will not be shaken , do as I will .I l eap and run
,I stop and stand stil l ,
I turn and,twist with cunning and sk il l .
My shadow is there , and mocketh at m e !
Wherever I turn that shadow I see .A s close as a brother it sticketh to me ,A nd from its pers istence I never am free.
I am its victim , I give up in despair !I t seemeth to me to never play fair.I’
m wil l ing to meet it, and l ive on the square,But I ’m beaten , confounded , plunged in despair.
For my shadow is there , and there it wi ll stay ,No power have I to drive it away.
Now close as a lover it sticketh to m e.
Oh,wi l l I , poor mortal , ever be free !
L ike the gal lows- slave , the chain I can’t break !
I t’
s ever with me , asleep or awake.
I t’
s part of my dream , and full of my days !I t is deaf and it ’s dumb , all s i l ent it stays .
But what most confounds m e—it always is there,Imp ish , confounding, it never plays fair !But s i l ent , pursu ing ,
’twill leave m e never,So down with the l ight , I
’
ll stay in darkness forever.
14 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
A CONFIDENT IA L LETTER .
Dear love, I’
m busy as can beI’
m,m aking hay
The sun is getting very hot,A nd it
’
s -
no play.
But sti ll I often think of youI t l ights my load .
I t muscles up my arms so SpryTo pitch the load .
A bumble-bee got in my hatSat on my head .
A nd sent its spear clean through my skullA nd misery spread .
I fought him off as best I couldThey don
’t fight fair.A dozen came at me at once
Mussed up my hair.
I need not tel l j ust what I said’
Twould make one mad !But, darn the lusty bumblebee
That’s not so bad !The other fellows laughed at me
I t made me sad .
T i l l some came round to v isit themThen I was glad !
My head is very sore todayA nd on a swell .
I t aches and aches so m iserablyI dream of hell .
My love to you, and this is allShun bumblebees
For i f near a hive youever tread,To youthey
’ll free! e.
16 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
ONE HA ZY D AY.
One ha! y day I saw a missT rying to wash a dirty dish .
I took the dishrag from her handTo show her how it’s done by man .
T ake up the dish and rub it round ,Then rub it up and rub it down ,Rub up and down til l i t i s clean ,Set it up with a little lean .
Now, treat the rest all the same way ,T i l l all are clean and put away !Then throw the water from the pan ,But wipe it as dry as you can .
H ave hot, hot water ! have a care !Look out for scalds ! your hands are bare.
Both hands and d ishes now are dry ,They ’re pleas ing to our winking eye .
Now, d ishes ready for the shelves ,But have no power to range themselves.Just manage them as best you canJust l ike youdo a poor old man .
Wring out the rag and take a rest ,I’
m sure you ’ve done your level bestFor all are clean from head to toeA nd s itting in a proper row.
PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 17
OUR FLA G.
There ’s one flag foreverThe flag of the free .I t
’
s spreading its folds nowFrom sea unto sea .
I ts stripes like the rainbowA - shine in the sky !Flung out to the breezes
,
How glad to the eye !
But one flag foreverTo wave over m e !
The flag of. Columb ia,Where dwelleth the free !Then
,l i ft up that banner,
On high let it wave,
May God of the angelsBe good to the brave !
Let all the stars glitterA nd l ight up our way !L ead onward and upwardForever and aye !With uplifted hand swearTo be ever true,To the stars there emblazonedI n the field of bright blue
18 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGH TS.
MY OWN LA ND FOREVER !
H ere ’s to my own land , my own land forever !Forsake thee in trouble ? No
,never !
The wrongs we wil l right ! for thee we wi ll fight !The foe that invadeth we ’ll put to flight .
Land of our fathers under the sod !Land that we love the nearest to God !So grand are thy hil ls , kissed by the sun ,A nd thy valleys down which the rivers run .
Sweet are thy valleys ! Lofty thy hil ls !R ising in splendor ! my bosom thril ls !Dear land of freedom , loved by the free !Gi ft of one mighty and given to me !
Bright are the suns which in glory rise ,Bright are the stars in the blue of skies ,Pale are thy moonbeams , queen of the night ,Shining for al l in bright si lver light .
Hoarse are the thunders shaking the h il ls ,Sweet are the murmurs of running ril ls ,Fearful thy lightnings , red in their glare !Flashing
,scintil lating everywhere .
Sweet are the rose s wh ich bloom and grow !Perfumed the winds that ever blow !Gentl e the showers wh ich slowly fall ,Scattering bless ings over us all.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 19
THE EGO .
H e did not de ign to speak to meHe i s so big ! I
’
m l ittle , wee !What lordly looks ! What arch in back !I wonder that his skull don ’t crack .
So much knowledge in his head !H e tries to make a mighty spread !Thinks he ’s the wisest man in town
,
A nd carries tons of greatness round .
I t’
s in his step , it’s in h is brain ,
H e thinks he i s a king again .
W ith all h is maj esty in play,A ll must admit he wins the day .
He’
s l ike a h ighland horny buck,A nd j ust as proud and j ust as stuckUpon his greatness as the buck .
Look tender, or he’l l run amuck !
H e’
s seeing nothing but the skiesThe earth would blear his nob le eyes !Oh, he
’s the stuff from head to toes !Just see h im swagger as he goes !
Yes,he ’s the man from end to end ,
A nd hardly ever has . a fri end .
For he’
s so big, all others weeH e never drops his eyes to see .
A n ego now, always wi l l beThe m ighty walking ego Me !
A great big I , a m ighty swell ,T ell h im for me to go to—Weehawken .
20 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGH TS.
PUNKIN PI E .
The punkin pie s are getting ripe !They look so sweet and fair.The frost i s on the trail ing vine
,
A chi l l i s in the air !Great yel low globes they lay afield
,
So pleasing to the eye ,A nd every one in al l the fieldI s crying punkin pie .
I n multitudes they meekly lieBeneath the sultry sky,A nd greedy eyes a hunger showWhile dreaming punkin pie .The farmer smiles to see how sweetThey on his holdings lie,A nd as he goes afield to plowH e dreams of punkin pie .
How sweet and lusc ious is the toastWh ich in our visions l ie !A nd as the days go gliding pastA ll eat the punkin pie .The dear old days , remembe red well ,I saw the coals aglow,
A s mother heated the oven upA nd set the house aglow.
O f punkin pie let nations singTo al l the passers by !There ’s nothing sweeter to my tasteThan home-made punkin p ie .
The turkey and the punk in pieO ft at the table meet,A nd then the tug of war i s onA nd all unite to eat .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 21
WHERE A RE THE CH ILDREN ?
Where are the children of my youthThe children I loved so ?They ’ve vanished in the flight of yearsL ike banks of A pril snow .
They came to me as angels come ,L ingered a fleeting day .
L ike summer birds they took their flight !I sit alone today .
I s it and dream a happy dream ,
O f all their sunny waysI call, but they will never come ,A s in the olden days .
T here’s others now that share their loveT his I rej oice to see !A nd children of their own with j oyNow c l imb upon their knee .
T hey ’ l l l ive the ir day as I have mineHow happy they must be !I envy not the ir happiness ,Nor yet the children ’s glee .
The ir day wi l l pass as m ine has past ,They ’l l sit alone like me,A nd dream their dreams of long ago,When children climbed their knee .
22 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
GIVE ME THE WINGS.
Give me the wings to upward rise
Wi th steady flight up to the skies !Up nearer to the great White Throne,The place that I would make my home .
Give me the pinions of a doveThat I may rise and soar above !With tireless wings
,oh ! m at rise
Up to the mansions in the skies .
Far,far from care s that now oppress
A nd l ead one into wretchedness .Fain I would rise and fly awayUp to the realms of endless day .
How sad my lot while here below,
Where fires burn and floods o’
erflow.
Give me a land that hath no storms ,A land of peace and tranquil homes .
There I would dwell forever moreA way from storm and tempest ’s roar .I crave a home in some blest landWhere peace flows down a silver strand .
Oh, give me Wings , the wings to riseA nd soar away to peaceful skies !There find a calm and blest retreat,Up close beside the M ercy Seat .
24 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
COME , MY BELOVED .
Come away, my beloved,A way “
to the skies .From dust of thy thraldom
Oh, loved one, arise'
Fair mansions await theeI n land of the blest !
A house all celestialThat wil l give thee rest .
Fight on,gallant soldier,
There ’s glory to come !Reward for the victor,When battle i s won .
Oh, be not discouragedFor victory is sure,
A nd glory is waitingFor those that endure .
Youoft may grow wearyWhile fighting alone .
The God of all battlesH as promised a throne .
Come away to the skies !Why tarry below,
I n pathways so weary’M id sorrow and woe ?
There mansions are waitingA re waiting thee now.
There are palms for thy triumph ,A crown for thy brow .
T here ’s rest for the weary,A n end of all fears !
There ’s fruits all eternalA feast for the years .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 25
SUMMER’
S COM ING.
The sweet summertime is comingComing o
’
er hi lls and dales .I t comes leaping o ’er the mountains,A nd laughing through the vales !I s swimming in the clouds aboveI s smiling from the moon ,A nd i t comes sai l ing through the a irA long the tides of noon .
’
Tis laughing in the waters freeA s they go bounding on !’
T is sighing in the waving trees ,O ne universal song !I t l i fts the roses out of bed ,A nd bids them bloom again !A nd spreads the dew on field and fernA nd drops the blessed rain .
Joy ’s un iversal song is sungSoft whisper on the gale .The barefoot boy is out abroadThe summer time to hai l . a
The dandelion lifts his headA long the valley green ,A nd a ll the days are blessed daysA pure and holy dream .
The birds are out with thri ll ing song,They ’re fi l l ing all the airW ith melody divinely sweet,To cheer each listening ear.Oh ! summertime , sweet summertime !How sweet thy days can be !When everything is glorifiedA nd ful l of melody .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
LORD, WHY IS IT SO ?
Dear Lord, dear Lord, why is it so ?Our dearest earthly friends must go,
A nd l eave us here to weep alone,A nd desolate our happy home .
We ’l l miss them long when evening’s nigh ,But stil l i t ’s right that al l must die .
The mystery is hid from meWhy such a thing as this can be .
We ”l ive, we love, strive to be brave ,But all go marching to the grave .
The li fe we live i s al l so brief.The dearest pass and all i s grief.
We wail our sorrows to the wind .
’
Tis not because our friends have sinned .
Kind nature’s hand is in it al lL ike mighty oaks our friends must fal l .
Death’s angel bands so often com eA nd take these treasures from our home ,A nd we are left o’
erwhelm ed with griefNo one can tell why life’s so brief.
’
T is j ust a step from lullabyT i l l death i s here and we must die .
Death greets the young, death greets the old,We live awh i l e
,and then the mold .
The funeral d irge is sadly sung,Our hearts with desolation wrung
,
Then softly laid down in the dustWhere sword and scabbard all must rust .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 27
I F YOU WOULD W IN.
I f youwould wm , youmust beginTo act the winner’s part .
Don ’t sit at ease,roll up your sleeves
Be sure to make a start .Youcan ’t succeed by word or deedYou ’l l surely have to dig !
With spade tussle with your muscl e,
’
Twill make you strong and big .
Be crackerj ack ! stiff up your back !A nd force good luck right in .
Stick out your chin, broaden your grin ,’
Tw i l l help you sure to win .
Pay as you go , defy each foe ,A nd all the rant and roar .
I f hill s are steep don ’t go to sle ep,
You ’l l find an open door .
Success awaits all at the gatesWith hinges ready greased !
She ’s honor bright and full of fight !She smiles and longs to please .
I f back is bent she ’s well contentTo lend a help ing hand .
I l lumed she stands to every man ,A ll ready to command .
Pitch in ! Pitch in ! you re sure to win !Success is sure ly yours !
A nd every man that clasps her hand,
A nd to the end endures .
With voice of song she ’ll cheer youon
To fairer fields of l ight .When work is done , the v ictory won ,
’
Twi l l fi ll youw ith del ight .
28 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
THE GOOD OLD SUMMER.
The good old summer’s here again,With flowers al l abloom !The polliwogs all holler now,
A nd storm the silver moon ,The fisherman is on the trai lO f all the finny tribe,A nd soft and hazy is his lookA s he sits by the tide .
The stars aglow in heaven ’s domeLook down with languid eye ,A nd all the universe is gladOn earth and glowing sky .
The weary farmer sleeps and dreamsO f waving harvest field ,T i l l wide awake he counts the costA nd r eckons what they yield .
Hope sits on all the hills around,
M i ld as a l ittle chi ld !The birds tri l l out their happy songsA ll heavy hearts beguile .Come jo in the universal chant,Just like a lover gay,A nd hobnob with the Gods of HopeWhile they are making hay .
O ld summertime ! Gay summertime !How sweet thy blossoms are !With all thy waving fields agleam ,
We need not have a care .The fruitful fields will ripen soonWhen harvest moon is on ,
A nd all will j oin with reaper gladTo gather in the corn .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
A MA N WA NTED .
Yes , honest friend I want a man !For this I ’ve toi led , for thi s I
’
ve planned !But not one man , to m y _
regret,H as ere come near my cunning net .They ’re very scarce
,this fact I ’ve found
,
They’re not enough to go around !A nd i f we don’t force bachelors inA lone through l ife we ’l l have to swim .
I’
ve done my best ! I’
ve even stoopedTo conque r a man , the homely brute !But sti ll I am a maid forlorn
,
Most wishing I had ne ’er been born .
I’
m happy ! Yes , I guess I’
m not.
I miss my rib now quite a lot !I f I should ever capture oneThe b iggest j ob of life
’
d be done .
I want a man upright and square !I’
ll take him if he has red hair !For qu ickly he ’l l be getting bald ,A nd then he ’l l have no hair at all .The years go by ! they
’re on the flyI’
ve cast my hook oft on the slyBut not one fish has “took” my bait ,SO now I mean to rest and wait .
I f J im comes round I ’ll treat him square,My good intention s I
’
ll declare .
I f it should be but home ly JoeI’
ll not be slow to l et h im know,
That I am wi l l ing, waiting h im ,
To come and help me in the swim .
So cry it out to all mankindThere is one lass that
’s left beh ind .
30 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
A SLEEPY DREAM .
The day was warm, the sun was hot,A nd all oppressed with heat .I sought the shade and lay me down
,
A nd soon I fe l l asleep .
O ld Sleepy Man then took my handA nd led me far away
,
Through the old meadows long forgot,Where once I tossed the hay.
I saw the little brook that ran,
The busy bumble bees,A nd heard the murmur
,soft and low,
O f winds among the trees .
I saw the cows that cropped the grass,
Gaze at me in surprise !The grunting swine, the fleecy sheep ,A nd flocks of butterfl i es .
I saw the strong man swing his scythe ,A nd lay the grass in rows ,Then stop and whet his curving bladeA nd thought
,
“
How well he mows !
I heard a hum pervade the air,Saw fond old faces too,
The dear old friend that worked with m e
Back when the world was new .
Then all at once they waked me up ,
The evening shades had come ,
The darkness fell , the V ision’s o’
er,
A nd the old friends are gone .
32 A PILGRTM’
S THOUGHTS.
AM 1 A DREAMER ?
A m I a dreamer ? I t seems so,
A dreaming dreams where ’er I go !I’
m dreaming on both night and day,I’
m dreaming this poor life away .
Why wake I not from my sad dreams,
While heaven ’s light around me gleams ?
Why close my eyes and dream strange dreams ,While floating down life ’s rapid streams .
Wake from thy dreams ! Oh, mortal , wake !These dreams from out thy life now shake ,A nd dream no more !
’tis folly sad ,The dreams of l i fe wil l drive thee mad .
A rise , and hold the winning hand !A wake for God and native landA wake and help drive out the Wrong,A nd b id the weak fear not, be strong !
A wake ! awake ! let dreamers dream !I man my ship to sail l ife
’s stream ,
Brave all perils , mount swell ing waves ,But never fil l a dreamer
’s grave !
A m I a dreamer ? Even so,
I n all the past it has been so.
But now I’
ll wake and dream no more ,
But steer my bark to wakeful shore .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 33
SPIRI TS OF THE NIGHT .
I heard the sp irits of the n ightA s they rode forth on dewy w ings ,A mid the hush of solitudeI heard their low, sweet , vesper hymns .
L ike whispering angels talking love,W ith stately steps they moved along !L ike m instrel chariots from aboveThey hummed a soft
,low
,l iqu id song.
’
Twas summer time , the m i ld moon smi ledA nd hid ablush behind the cloud
,
The stars all danced to music wildA nd laughed sweet titters half aloud .
There rose a fragrance from the flowers,
E arth seemed a garden of the God ’s !The world one great enchanted bowerWh ile nature posed in sleepy nods .
The winds that fan the wilds of earthSing sweet hushabys to my soul .The n ight bird warbles songs of m irthA s all around sweet anthems roll .
On in the night,the solemn n ight
,
A m id its harmonies subl ime ,I l ingered
,waiting for the l ight ,
Sti l l confident it would be mine .
I l isten to the whirl ing W lnd,
I hear the low and solemn sigh !While all around the echoes ring,Dark mysteries hang o
’
er earth and sky.
34 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS .
NEA RER TO THEE .
Nearer to Thee ! Nearer to Thee !This all my song shall be .
I n darkest night,when day is bright
,
This sti l l my song shall b e .
Nearer to T hee ! T hough lon e I be ,My pillow but a stone .T hough dark the night, no home in sight ,Yet stil l I ’m not alone .
Nearer to Thee in dreams I ’ll be !Thy angels come to bless !With songs of cheer they linger near .Sweet dreams are mine , and rest .
A n exile I,
’neath bending sky !A ladder raised for me .N earer to T hee, as shadows flee .
Oh, nearer come to me .
I n midnight’s fears I shed my tears !Thy stars my only light .Then I wi l l be nearer to TheeThrough all the lonely night .
Long as I l ive th is song I’
ll giveTo Christ of Calvary !Through darkest night , ti l l dawns the l ight ,My God, remember me !
A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 35
W IND UP THE CLOCK.
Wind up the clock and lock the door,
The weary day is done !A nd let us lay these bodies downThese bodies weary, worn .
The even ing prayer we ’l l breathe to God,A God so free to bless !A nd we ’l l forgive our enemiesA nd in H is promise rest .
We ’l l lay us down in tranquil sleep ,A nd pleasant be our dreamsA s we go walking fairy land’
M id all its fancy scenes .
Repeat the dear old prayer again ,When mother tucked us in !I f we forget to say that prayer’
Twould be a frightful sin .
Forgive , forgive ! the load of debtsWe owe to T hee for good !Thanks for the fri ends we ho ld on earthA nd all our da i ly food .
How big Thy me rcies crowd us around ,A l ike the stars above !HOW good our food , how soft our bed ,A nd all our lines are love .
Oh, may we wake in gratitudeTo see the l ight of day,A nd l ive each hour as i f our last ,T i l l l ife shall pass away !
36 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
COME WHERE GLORY WA I TS YOU .
Come , Oh ! come , whe re glory waits you,Brave men standing there at bay !
For your country waits to crown you,Fighting in the dreadful fray .
Come , Oh ! come, where cannons roaringOn the field with carnage rife !
There pure patriot’s blood is flowingI n the carnage and the strife .
Glory calls ! Why should you falter,Though blood crimson all the plain ?
God of battles ! He may shelterBring thee to thy fri ends again .
But if death these hopes should shatter,
L eave thee on the field of blood !Glory then thy grave shall shelter,
A nd thy death be blest of God .
H ear the voic e of all the futureCall ing thee to stand or fal l !
A ll the ties of earthly natureGone to swell the solemn call .
On to field where glory waits you !Stand to win the day or die !
The re youfight for all who love youFor the God who rules the sky .
Oh ! my country, on thy altarsI would lay me down and die .
Cursed be the one that falters ,When he hears his country’s cry !
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 37
OH , I WOULD BE !
Oh, I would be an angel,A nd dwell in ange l land
,
A harp a—thri l l to“
music ,A palm within my hand .
I’
d j oin the angel chorusWhich stands before the throne ,
A nd bless the God of angelsFor such a blessed home .
Renew my youth in glory,The land I ’ve sought so long.
There thru the m ighty ages ,I’
d sing the new, new song.
There days are never counted ,A ll ages are its own ,
A nd there are many mansionsWh ich I can call my home .
There dwells my soul exulting.
A ll weary years are past,A nd I have gained the portalsWhere all the weary rest .
Why linger in the shadows,
A nd peri ls here below ?I wait the Master’s summonsWhen He shall b id me go.
There we shal l l ive forever,A nd never know a fear
Shall never know a sorrow,
T hrough all the endless years .Yes , I would be an angel ,
A nd dwell in angel lands ,A nd walk the stree ts all golden,
A palm with in my hands .
38 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
MA IDEN, LISTEN.
Oh, maiden ! l isten , hearken now !Oh, lend your listening ear !
When the - foul tempter comes around,
Oh, don’t you stop to hear !
A nd don ’t forget what mother says ,A nd you ’l l remember we ll
A flatterer would lead astray,Down to the gate of hell .
Don ’t think that mother’s love is bl ind ,O r that youknow it all .
The flatterer will lead the wayDown to a wretched fall .
Youthink your Johnny ’s pure and goodI rather think he i s !
But John will never flatter youI t
’
s not a way of his .
He’
s open as the sh ining day,I f girl he loves is true .
Be sure you ’re right , then go ahead,Perhaps his girl is you.
A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
WHO TOUCHED ME ?
A woman s ick and nigh to deathA pproached her Lord with bated breath .
“I f I can touch his garment ’s seamI know I shall be whol e and clean .
”
With lofty hope she took her stand,When he was near reached forth her hand !She reached and touched his garments fair,A nd 10 ! she found her healing there !
The Master turn ed ! Who touched me ?”
She trembling fell upon her knee .“Master
,forgive ! for it was me !”
He bade her rise so lovingly,With eyes of love gazed on her soul .“Thy faith is great, and thou art whole .With trembling fear she raised her eyesA nd felt her healing with surprise .
With j oy she shal l l ive out her days,
A nd every hour be fraught with praiseWhen death shal l come- she ’ll soon ariseThrough h im will gain her paradise .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 4 1
MY BEST GIRL .
She stands before me , sweet and true .Her eyes are of a l iquid blue .Sweetest graces are hovering round .
See what a treasure I have found !
She ’s like the sweetest rose ablaze ,Her blushes like the evening haze .H er brow is where true lovers meet
,
A nd she’s a H ebe from crown to feet .
Cheeks with beauty and love aglow,
Matching roses where ’er they grow .
Gentle her action,gentle her voice
,
The words she speaks make me rej oice .
A s pure as waters from the fount,
Sweet as the zephyrs from the mount .She
’s meek and gentle as the dove,
O r as the angels up above .
She ’s sweet and pure as God ’s own childThe dearest flower on the wild .
T hrough all the ages she ’l l be mine,
Through all the swinging waves of time .
42 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
I SAW H IM COURT ING.
I saw him when he courted her.She sweetly hung upon his arm
,
A nd he was very tender then,
For fear that she would come to harm .
But very few of fleeting daysPast ere he had grown cold to her .
She does not hang upon h is arm,
Now he don ’t seem to care for her .
She i s his slave , does all the work ,With a patience so all sublime !
Washes the clothes and scrubs the floor,
A nd toil s away most of the time.
While he lordly walks up the street,A nd she can stay herself at home .
Poor girl ! she hopes , toils on , and hopes,Sti ll labors on in hope alone .
I wish he had a mother- in- lawTo call him to his duty .
H i s wife is j ust as pleasant now,
But j ust wearing out her beauty .
I t’
s long we l ive and long we love ,When our hearts are true and tender !
But i f a man don ’t love h is wifeThen m ay kind heaven de fend her.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 43
A LL NA TURE CA LLS.
A ll nature calls . A wake ! A wake !Young summer’s call to field and lake !Ch i l l winter’s past, gay summer’s here .She hails the world with words of cheer.
Some lazy shrubs are sleep ing yet .She calls the clouds
,al l dripping wet
,
Calls thunders too, wh i le l ightning’s thri l l
Goes crashing o ’er the vale and hil l .
The clinging vine then hears the call .A nd soon it climbs the friendly wall !A nd ere the clock strikes hour of noon
,
The world ’s aglow in clustered bloom .
The birds all sing of love , sweet love !Hot suns aflam e in skies above .A ll nature ’s rising from her tomb !T here is no plac e for tears or gloom .
The fruitful fields now all aglowWere yesterday all chilled in snow .
Young spring puts on her robes of greenA nd bloom ing flowers deck the scene .
We all rej oice at scenes so fair,With !oy we breathe the fragrant air.A nd oh !
’ti s sweet, so sweet to l ive ,When nature has such gifts to give .
The flying b irds, the humming bees,The murmured song among the trees ,A ll j oin to fil l th is l ife of m ineW ith !oy and peace almost d ivine .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
R ICH A ND RARE .
Rich and rare IS the gem I bring,’
Tis love,’tis love
Down at your feet thls gem I fling,
’
Ti s love,
’tis love .Oh, guard it, friend , with constant care,
’
Ti s love ,’ti s love .
Place on thy breast and wear it there .’
Tis love,’tis love .
’
A gem from out the hand of God,’
T is love ,’tis love .
I t l i fts up from the chilling sod,’
T is love,’ti s love .
I n E den ’s bowers ’twas hid away,’
T is love ,’tis love .
T here in a rocky cave it lay,’
Tis love ,’tis love .
Revealed to us on Calvary,H is love
,H i s love .
The only hope we ho ld today,H is love , H is love .
A tune my heart beats on and on ,H is love, H is love .
’
Twi l l beat until its beating’s don e,W ith love , with love .
For this the solid rock did break,For love , for love .
The skies grew dark, the mountainsGod ’s love , God
’s love .Love is a glorious heritage,Just love, j ust love .
I t leads us to eternal days,Oh love, sweet love .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 45
TOUCH MY L I PS.
T ouch my lips with loving fire !Touch my heart with good desire !May my tongue with wisdom talk !T each my wandering feet to walk !
I n the giddy maze of lifeKeep my heart from sin and strife !Guide my feet lest they should —strayI nto sin’s alluring way .
Wake my soul from sluggish sleep ,H e lp me all my watches keep .
Through all the night and all the day,Guide them sti ll in pleasant way .
L ead me into pastures green ,A long the gentle flowing stream .
L ead me gentle , l ead me on ,
Fi l l my soul with j oy of song.
Give me courage , give me strength ,L ife and days in service spent !T i ll my task on earth is done
,
Then in mercy take me home .Give back to me those I loveA home in thy courts above .
Give to me , unworthy me ,H eaven and all its company .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
A SLA VE TO HA TE .
H ate, I have been a slave to you!You ’ve darkened all my li fe.
You ’ve made my path a thorny one,
A nd strewn my way with strife .Love blushed and hid her face from meA nd hatred took her place .You ’ve fi lled my life with sorrows full
,
A nd made my l i fe a waste .
My friends with tears all turn away,A nd smile no more on meMy skies are fil led with flying cloudsA hell of misery .
H ate gnaws my heart both n ight and day,
’
T i s bleeding to the core ,A nd I have learned to have it soI cherish peace no more .
A t first it seemed a little thing,
I hugged and kept it warm !But soon it to a monster grewA nd cast o’
er me its charm .
So now I love and cherish itA n undiluted hell !I ts baleful shadows cover me .
How low,how far I fel l !
My haggard life I ever hate,I’
m l ike a l ion caged ,I love to grit my teeth and glare ,A nd spit out wrath and rage .
I suffer more than martyrs didLa id on the funeral pyre .
They have a hope which bears them up ,
M ine is a quenchless fire .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
THE GOOD A ND THE BA D .
The good and bad are mingledWith us throughout our lives .
How oft in thoughtless momentsThe bad within us thrives !
We find‘ourselves bemoaningThe evils we have done
A nd we are seen regrettingA t setting of the sun .
The good and bad surround. usIn ups and downs of l ife !
In every manly struggleWe ’re braver in the strife .
When devils cam p around usA ngels are in the rear
,
5 0 we can meet them boldlyWhen angel help is near .
Our strength is in One mighty,A nd devils fear and fly.
He fights our battle for usWith sword uplifted h igh .
With good and! had around us,The good should surely win .
There is a rock to shelter,To take the tempted in .
Boast not of good youhave doneBy your unaided power.
’
T is not good fruit you ’re bearing’
T is but some faded flower.
A PILGRIM’
Sr THOUGHTS . 49
A L ICE .
I know a girl,her name ’s A lice !
Not a bit of guile or malice .Form so dainty
,cheeks red and fair
,
Sunny glories shine in her hair .
She ’s a beauty all resplendent,Rosy cheeks
,style independent .
Sweet and'tender as cherries ripe !I’
ll'
go and get her for a wife .
For she can wash and scrub and bake,
Can make a pie or turn a cake .She’s good enough for any man !I’
ll go and get her i f I can .
She is so sweet,so neat and clean
,
Never stoops to things low and mean,
A nd she can cook the best of stew,
A nd custards good enough for you .
A blessing sure through all my days ,A pleasant girl with pleasant ways,A fond companion so sweet and true
,
The very one I wish for too .
I’
ll go work and bui ld a palace,
Go tell my darling A lice,“I’
ve got the cage , so come along,A nd! fill my palace full of song.
”
50 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
NOW I LAY ME .
Now I lay m e down to sleep .
Oh, God ! to thee I p rayThat thou will guard me while I sleep
Unti l another day.
I f in the night I sink and die,
A nd never wake again,Wilt Thou have mercy on my soul ,With Thee to ever reign ?
For this I pray,Oh Lord , to Thee
Oh, guide me with Thy handThrough all the way which I must walk
To reach the Promised Land .
I’
m in thy hand both night and day,
No other help I know !I f thou forsak’
st me while I ’m here ,My doom is endless woe.
Oh, let my li fe be true to Thee,Obey Thy every call .
Burdens of life too much for me,Oh God ,
to Thee I call !
In mercy hear my every cry,
A ll feeble though they be .
Help me in every time of needTo simply trust in Thee .
So shall my sleep,my waking hours
,
Be given unto TheeLet li fe or death, let nights and days ,
A ll consecrated be .
A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS . 51
TE LL ME THY SE CRETS.
Tell me thy secrets,dark blue sea .
Why comes my lover not to me ?
He spread his sails and' sailed away,A nd has been gone for many a day .
H is ship was wrecked somewhere, he sleepsBeneath the bosom of thy deeps !Oh, cruel , cruel, boisterous sea,Send back my lover boy to me !
Oh! he was blithe, and he was brave,He loved to ride the swell ing wave !A nd when the fearful storm
v
cam e downHe left the sail to wear a crown .
How much my lover boy I miss !How dear the last fond loving ki ss !I t is a joy—a memory
,
I cherish very lovingly .
Oh, restless, rolling, stormy sea,
Be kind to him where’er he beDown in the deep where lovers sleepLet mermaid sweet his watches keep .
Farewell, my love, farewell to thee !Sweet be thy rest in deep blue sea !Let waves swell up and beat the shore ,My lover comes to me no more.
52 A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
A BIDE TI LL EVENTIDE .
A bid‘e with m e till eventide !When shadows gather still abide .
When gloam ing hides the rising hil l,Thy presence, Lord, be with me still .
A bide with me,lest I should stray
From loving care so far away.
When blinded eyes refuse to see ,Still in Thy love, abide with me .
When cares oppress my“ shrinking . soul
,
Oh ! make me as the l ion bold .
Give grace !to fac e the danger nigh ,A s to Thy sheltering arms I fly.
A bide with me,when tempter’s near
A nd let me feel that Thou art near .A nd may Thy arms in maj estyMake all my enemies to flee .
A bide With me,
'both night and day,
A nd‘make Thy presence cheer my way .
When l ike a coward I would flee,
Give courage,still abide with me .
A bide with me till eventideWhen on the waves of death I rideMay all its darkness from me flee ,A nd sti ll , my Lord , abide with me .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 53
DRIVE DEMON HA TE“
Drive demon hate from out your heart,I warn you
,gentle maiden ,
O r he wi ll make his homi ng there,
A nd leave you heavy laden .
Let love supreme still rule your li fe,A nd softer words be spoken,
More like the gentle NazareneWhose cross shall be thy token .
Heaven is never far awayFrom hearts released from hating.
Soft words will heal a brokenheart,A s I have been relating.
There is a cruelty in words .That burns and burns forever
Oh, use them then with love imbued ,With God you ’ll find good favor.
Don ’t make your tongue a t hing to dread ,A nd cause your friends to shiver
But soft and low roll out your wordsL ike wavelets on a river.
Love is divine ! it healeth wounds,
A nd wipes the tears of sorrow .
Oh, soft and tender be thy handsToday and on the morrow.
54 A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
E cHOE s OF OLD HOME .
Strange echoes of my sylvan home !Was it some nymph or wildwood gnomeThat answered every word I said
,
From out the dark and leafy shade ?Scarce had the call dropt from my l ipBack would it come without a slip .
E choing long and echoing high,
With a strange,weird
,wildwood cry.
I’
d call out qu ick,“A clack ! a clack !
Still every syllable came back,A s i f some l iving body thereI t
‘ must be children of the air !Those echoes rung all round my homeThey followed me where ’er I
’
d roam .
The childish calls of memoryA re ever coming back to me .
The woodman ’s ax ’twould imitateIn wildwood so desolate .The wooded home so oft would ringWith calls of !oy, and songs
“I’
d sing.
’
Tis strange ! ’tis strange ! I can ’t tellThey’d answer everywhere and cry
,
Those echoes here and echoes there,
Wild echoes ringing everywhere !
A PILGRI IITS T HOUGHTS.
Why should this flood acurst of God,
Go sweeping on its way ?
While Christian men will hem and hawStand round
-
and bid it stay !
Still stand by those with b loody clothes,A nd keep the fires aflam e !
Oh, hear my call ! E re vengeance fall !Help quench this fiery flame .
“
! UE ER PEOPLE .
We’re all,somehow
,a little queer,
Excepting youand me,my dear .
There’s queerness in the best ofus ,A nd meanness in the rest of us .
But how it comes I can’t make out,
Yet fancy I am not a lout,
A s I have eyes that are not bl ind .
A nd what I see I have in mind .
There’s selfishness and j ealousyI t bothers youand clutches me .A lthough we try to get awayIt sticketh to us night and day.
We might as well,my dear, confess
There’s serpent’s eggs here in our nest,I’
d l ike to know how they got inI do suspect that man of sin .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 57
Please list to what I say, my dear.The devil ’s always handy here,A nd he pops up just now and thenA nd gets into the best of men .
He stirs you up sometimes,I see,
Then how you scold and bother me !A nd then I give you tit for tat,A nd that is what the devil ’s at.
He’
s i n our lives from head to foot !He stands around with grappling hookI f there’s a break at all , at al l .He has a hand in every brawl .
Something once happened ! let us see ,I t was beneath an apple tree .I t kind of Clings to you and me
,
A nd causes all our misery.
I wish they’d left that fruit alone !I t
’
s bred into our flesh and bone,
A nd every step we take on earth ,We are reminded of our b irth .
They ate the fruit and down they fellInto a universal hell .How true this
_is
,I cannot say
,
There’s lots of Hell along our way.
58 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
D OUCHER’
S BA BY.
I have von Chile w id sharpest claws ,I laf so much as never was .
H is little nose pug as can be !I nurse him sometimes on my knee .He has the cutest little eyes !He looked at me and seem surprised .
H im j ust lay down and kick and kick,I laf so much it make me sick.
H is mud’
er think him a great chap ,He looks so much j is like his pap !Dat tickled me much
,more and more .
Ven I gits out I fairly roar !I laf and laf
,and rubs myself
,
Ven I tink of dat little elfDat has blue eyes and a pug nose
,
Two little feet and little toes .
Sometimes he howl and wake me up,
H im howl sometimes like little pup .
Ven I don’t sleep I do declareThen I gets mad an almost swear .Ven daylight comes an no more cryDen I ’s ’shamed to see my eye ,To see date von dear little Chile,I loves so much most all de time .
He is von dearest little boy !He gives his fader so much shoy !I love dat little bunch of fleshMuch better don I love myself .He reaches up to pull my hair .Just let him pull, I do not care.I tink he tries to have some fun,Jes l ik his fader’s little son .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 59
TURN BA CK, YE YEA RS.
Turn back ! turn back ! ye fleeting years,Turn back and note my fall ing tears .For I have wept as few have wept,A s o
’
er my spirit memory swept.
Oh, chide me not for tears that fall !For I have quaft wormwood and gall.In spite of all that I can doMy eyes are wet as with the dew.
How oft they flow and bring relief,A nd ease the burdens of my grief .Better to weep than laugh betimesI find it so in years of mine .
So many loves of earth are gone,
A nd left my life so all forlorn !So when the evening ides have comeI’
ll j oin them in their silent home.
Oh,tears ! oh
,tears ! ye blessed tears !
Oh, how oft yousooth the fleeting years !Youease the burden of our hearts
,
A nd pluck from griefs their stinging smarts .
We brush them gently from our eyes,
A nd turn them radiant to the skies .There tears are bottled up with care,They hold an innocence like a prayer .
A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
A LL REA DY IN THE MORNING.
A ll ready in the morning,When the sun begins to shine .
The mountain’s tipped In glory,A nd dew is on the vine.
The birds are b lithely smgmgTheir sweetest songs of praise
!
.
Shall I a laggard lingerA nd not a tribute raise ?
Pale flowers sweetly bloomingSpread paradise around !A rranged in all their gloryThey glorify the ground .
They scent the breezes blowingFrom gardens of H is love !No sweeter wonders bloomingSave those that bloom above .
A ll ready in the morningI’
ll open my eyes to see .The sweetest flowers bloomingIn paradise for me .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 61
THE GR I EFS OF EA RTH .
The griefs of earth may bring us gain ,Just like the gentle falling rain .
When harvest a- thirsty grows’
T is seen by one that always knows .
The gentle rain like human tearsBrings forth the golden ripening ears,A s former and the latter rainHas b lest the glowing golden grain .
A nd as the hurried years go byWe often gaze through tear-dimmed eye .They yield a harvest just the same
,
A s fruitful fields beneath the rain .
Sometimes the thunders d in the sky,The ringed lightnings flash and fly,A nd nature raves
,and raves and raves ,
The wild winds swel l in sullen”
waves .
Thus pent-up nature sheds her tearsA nd fills the world with shadowy fears !
When storm is past like mortal manShe sinks to sweet and holy calm .
Then roses smile again and bloom !Her griefs are past and all her gloomA nd gladness swells her heart again
,
Which traveled late in so much pain .
62 A PILGRIM’
S‘
THOUGHTS.
I’
LL SING MY SONG.
I’
ll Sing my song,and bid it go
To cheer a world of want and woeIn mansion or in humble cot,Wherever man has cast his lot.
I’
ll bid it go and cheer the heart,To give each one good hope to
“
start.
To fight to win and struggle onUntil the victory is won .
Oh, song of mine, be strong to cheer,A nd bid the timid banish fear,A nd teach the cowards to be braveIn their long m arches
'
to the grave .
Make them as like a help ing handA s they go ringing through the land !A nd
'as they go may men give ear
A nd all be glad my song to hear !
Tell troubled ones it’s good to weep !The bitter tear may lead to sweet.A blessed truth
,I know it’s so
For tears have often eased my woe.
The bitter sweets of this poor lifeWhere !oy is mingled with each stri fe !The darkest clouds will drift awayA nd grief will smile to greet the day.
64 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
I’M LOST ! I
’M LOST !
I’
m lost ! I ’m lost ! forever lost !I’
ve never stopped to count the cost.A lone I stand
,no rescue near.
GodI of the lost ! oh, hear my prayer !
I have no price to set me free .I’
m lost and poor, oh ! pity me !My hands are empty, here I stand .
Naught but a beggar in the land .
Now in the desert lone and bareI’
ve wandered far from love and care ,A nd naught remains but death, grim death ,Which lays along my lonely path .
A nd here I wander, on and onT ill hope within is almost gone .
I’
m bl ind,and darkness circles round .
Will peace and hope be ever found ?
Thy promise still to me remains,The Lamb will wash all guilty stainsIn this I must trust, then let it beA light, a com fort unto me .
Oh, God ! in mercy hear my cry !Oh,give Thy healings ere I die .
Naught but thy love can ever saveFrom the deep terrors of the grave.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 6S
L IVE A ND BE GAY.
L ive and be gay as long as you can !Some day— some day you’ll be a dead man .
The day may be long, the trail may be rough .
Be good? to yourself ! you’ll live long enough .
Eyes will grow dim refusing to see !Rather unhandy-f- i in this we agree .T ime wrinkles your brow
,turning hair gray
,
Whispers forever,“You ’re passing away !”
Wrinkles a-plenty cover thy brow !Lofty and haughty
,low it must bow.
Days like arrows go whistling away !Laugh
,be jolly while with us you stay.
Youth soon is past ! short is its day,Brown were the locks now mingled with grayOnce so active
,now listless and slow !
Plodding a p ilgrim,on we must
”
go.
Still merry-hearted,leaning on staff
,
Cracking a joke and learning to laugh .
Laughs are like sunbeams glorious to seeBlessing to all, a blessing to me .
L ive and be gay as long as youcan,Some day— some day you ’ll be a dead m an
Finish the work so Well begun,Soon sun will be setting
,day’s work done .
A PI LGRIM’
S ~ THOUGHTS
THERE ARE HEAVY LOA DS.
There are heavy loads to carry,
O’
er the hills and mountains here !In the morning there is Singing
,
In the eve there ’s grief and tears .
Long I linger in the valleyA nd the thorns do pierce my
“
feet !The storms of the earth grow fearful
,
A ll sorts of troub les meet .
When our hopes are Weak and sinking,A nd great billows roll around,Then a spirit comes a-walking
,
A nd a peaceful port is found .
In the highways blind and stumblingIn the byways o’
er the lea,Lo
,a traveler’s step is nearing
He anoints me,and I see .
With a burden,heavy- laden
,
Struggling up the r ocky steep ,Footsore
,limp ing, lone and weary,
O ft I st0p to wail and weep .
Lo,the voice of mercy cries,
“Weary one,come unto me !
I’
m a burden-bearer,ready
From thy load to set thee free .
Helpless ! helpless ! Lord,I’
m cryingI f there ’s mercy
,pity me !
Oh, my burden’s far too heavy !
Let me lay it, Lord, on Thee !
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 67
I’M GROW ING OLD .
I’
m growing old, sad years have told .
A h, woe is me ! I’
m growing old !
O ld Father T ime fl ings out his sign,
A nd covers al l this face of mine .
There’s wrinkles here and wrinkles there,There ’s wrinkles scattered everywhere .The glow has left my boyish face,Of youth ’s fair day there’s not a trace .
I’
m growing old, j ust l ike a tree ,There ’s knots and gnarls all over m e.
The bark is loose, my limbs are weak !There ’s quaver in my trembling speech .
I’
m growing old , the way grows rough ,A nd I have traveled far enough .
I’
ll stop and sit awh i le the shade .I’
m on the top— it’s al l down grade .
The summer’s past, pale winter’s on !
I writhe and shrink beneath the storm.
Th is poor old hulk has gone to wrack !I’
m growing old, and can’t turn back .
I somet imes sigh for youth’s fair dayHow swift the time has passed away !But youth is gone , old age is hereThe l eaf of l ife , al l brown and sear .
The long, long years in mercy m ineI’
ve had my day of youthful prime.
The c ircl ing years have past me rolled ,A nd youth is gone— I ’m growing Old .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
I BUILT ME A HOME .
I built m e a home on sands of time,I n a land exceeding fair
,
A nd there I l ived with my lover trueA nd breathed in the balmy air.
The years slipped by with the j oys of love ,My soul was exceeding glad ,
For my love was true as the skies of blue ,A nd my l i fe was never sad .
The sunbeams strayed to our cottage doorT i ll the flowers were in bloom,
Their fragrance as the breath of gods ,A t the morning, night and noon .
No evil came , for an angel stoodWith a sword to guard the home !
The vine- clad wal ls bore luscious fruit,A s sweet as the honeycomb .
I
My fields were flush with the golden grain,Heavy were the crops they bore !
A nd the ships brought fruit from every landA nd laid them down at my door .
Thus blessings all around me l ie,A nd this i s my home today,
A nd when I pass to my home on h igh ,For the j oy of others I ’ll pray .
A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
OH , DREAMER , WAKE !
Oh, dreamer, wake ! the battle’s on ,
I t rages now ! the foe i s strong.
Your country cal ls ! Oh, he ed her calls ,A nd help
,
to bu i ld her crumbling walls .
The greed of graft i s in the ai r,
Belated souls don ’t seem to care .They ’re deft in al l the devil ’s schoolsA nd laugh at sin as other fools .
Their ways are dark, their secrets known ,They make the people sigh and groan .
The graft of sin they ever sow .
A nd l ive on cunn ing— filthy ,low .
T hey sit in secret as they plotTo place on men their hel li sh blot,A nd strew our streets with devi l ’s den ,To trap the boys and dam n
r
the men .
A nd Christians go w ith blinded eyesA nd scarcely wish it otherwise ,A nd serve the brewers all the same ,Unto the country‘s burning shame .
Wake ! Oh, dreamer ! the battle’s on ,
’
T i s raging now, the foe is strong,Strike for your homes with all your might,A nd dare to d ie for what i s right .
70 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
OLD TIMERS MEET .
How are you, my Old friend, today ?I’
m glad you stil l are here .So many now have past away,
Youfi l l my heart with cheer!The days are passing swiftly now,
A nd we are going too !Stil l hope lingers forever nigh
A nd paints the sky true blue.
Hope ever lingers in the brain ,A nd makes the future bright !
We dream that we are young again,On every dreary night .
T ime plants his footsteps on each browWe walk a little lame
A nd as I look into your faceI find you ’re not the same .
Back in halcyon days, when boysWe played upon the green ,
Such j olly games , such splendid toys !“
But, oh ! how far they seem !The great beyond now claims the boysWith whom we tussled then ,
Now they have j o ined the silent crew .
Most all were noble men !
The rift of years is opening up ,
A nd wrinkles on each brow .
When I look back , all blind with tears,A nd hug the pass ing hour.
Our days on earth are nearly done,The tally ’s handed in !
But keep a-going while we can ,Perhaps some day we’l l win .
72 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
ON J ORDA N’
S BA NKS.
On Jordan ’s banks, oh, must I stand
Waiting the boat now close at hand .
Out on its bil lows must I ride,
A s to a mystic land I glide .
Some day my feet will touch its flow !Out on its billows I must go !Eyes closed to dream a si lent dreamUpon that dark and flowing stream .
Oh, waves ! be gentle in your flowI’
ve tossed enough while here below,
A nd I would find some quiet spot,Where all my griefs might be forgot .
Oh, waves ! oh , waves ! I’
m full of fearE ach fleeting hour as I draw near.There are such dreads within the deep ,I t gives my soul the power to weep .
Come , oh,my soul ! be brave , be brave !Why should I fear to launch the wave,That bears me to a home of love,Far, far from care to rest above !
How oft in tears I ’ve knelt in prayerA nd craved the secrets hidden there .When life i s done and I am freeA sweet hope calls ,
“I’
ll care for thee .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 73
THE“
MILLS THA T GR IND .
The mills of l i fe forever grind,
A nd leave no shred or trace behind .
They grind, they grind to finest dust,The strongest men l ike iron rust .We may shrink back and cry “Nay
,nay !
But mi l ls grind on and have thei r way .
A ll are its grist and all must comeBe ground unti l the grinding’s done .
T here ’s millions gone that have been ground,
Fine as the sandy,pebbly ground
A ll ground to dust, fine dust again ,Forgot their !oy ,
forgot the ir pain .
Not what they were,what may they be !
Part of the rose, part of the tree,Part of the stream that rushes by,Part of the rock
,part of the sky .
Part of the rift, part of the snow,
Part of the rain,and winds that blow .
Now nature ’s child must do her willA nd she commands with wondrous skill .A blushing in the rose ’s bloomMay be a friend long in the tomb .
We know it not,though strangely near !
They give no sign,no voice we hear.
The rose sti ll speaks of E aster morn ,When angels came and rolled the stone ,A nd shook the dust from life ’s fair robesA nd glorified the risen GodWhose dust was ground supremely fine,He rose l ike gold in fire refined .
I n God ’s cruc ible H e shall be,Refined to all etern ity .
74 A PILGRIM’
S’
THOUGHTS.
HOW STRA NGE IS L IFE .
How strange th is l ife al l seems to m e !’
T is full of shade and mystery .
How crude, unsatisfying all,A s days and years around me fall.
I think I see,yet never see !
I ts depth is far too great for me .
My days come quick ly , crowding on ,
A nd l ike a flash they’re past and gone.
I grope my way as one that’s blind,
A nd strive l ife ’s mysteries to find .
T hey’re hid away,i l lusive
,lost .
I would read them at any cost .
A nd I’
m led on by a false l ightSti l l deeper into Egypt’s night .A mid the dangers lurking thereI sometimes yield to dark despair .
’
Twas never m eant for me to knowThe future way I have to go .
’
T is hid ,’tis hid away from me
,
A nd i t i s well , so l et it be .
My ignorance bids me bewareO f every wily , earthly snare,For Death is trumps, and he ho lds swayA nd all betime s must pass his way .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 75
BLIND MA N ’
S SIGHT .
Yousay the blind man cannot see !Yousurely must mistaken be.They have seen “men as trees that walk .
When listening to the neighbors’ talk,Their ears are open eyes to them ,
A nd through their ears see other men ,A nd everything you talk about !Their ears are looking all about .
Talk of the stars that light the skyThey see it all with eager eye.Talk of the harvest fields awaveThey see and help to bind the sheave .
T ell of the corn in stately rowThey see it all and well they. know,
The silken ear the sword- like bladeBefore their eyes is gently laid .
They know the world in all its moodsA nd all surrounding neighborhoods .The heat
,the chills , an open book,
They know them all without a look.
The world is open- eyed to themTake it all in as other m en .
’
T is wonderful to us who seeHow keen the eyes of blind may be !
The moon and stars an open book !Their eyes are bent where’er they look .
Though blind they be, God gives them eyes
To scan the mysteries of the skies .A ll nature talks to poor blind men,On finger tips that they can ken .
With this they see without the eyesThe mountains
,h ills
,and all the skies.
A PILGRIM’
S‘
THOUGHTS.
GOD BLESS MY D A D !
God bless my dad“! I wish all knewHow grand he was, and oh, how true !For years, many years he held the plow,
’
With grimy hands and sweating brow.
God bless my dad ! A kingly man,The very best of noble clan .
D efied the sun,all winds that blow
A mighty man to wield the hoe.
God bless my dad ! He lived to serve ,A nd from life ’s burdens never swerved .
He hoed his row from end to end,
A nd always proved himself a friend .
God bless my dad ! Now he’s at rest .He always did his level best.H is heavy toil can I forgetOr can I ever pay the debt ?
God bless my dad ! World ’s weary careBent his old back
,made white his hair .
He left the plow and ceased to hoe,When Great God came and bid him go.
God bless my dad ! He sleeps todayIn the old churchyard far away.
I’
ll plant a rose above his grave,
A nd th ink how long for me he slaved .
God bless my dad ! Now he’s asleepA nd oft betimes for him I weep .
He sleeps for long and wakens not,H is toil for me is not forgot.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 77
SWEET DREAMLA ND .
A sweet dreamland’s away somewhere,
Which I shall reach when free from care.I’
ll plod along through dreamy daysTo find the spot where dreamland lays .
The ocean rolls to toss me on !Some day my friends will say— he ’s gone
,
But I will be in the land of dreams,
A nd never more see earthly scenes .
Though long my pilgrimage belowWhen weary I ’ll be glad to go.
Father,mother and brother too !
To me they call—“We’re waiting you!
This world has been my place to learn .
For better things I often yearn .
I often gaze on earthly scenes !I’
m often mocked by passing dreams .
These earthly dreams are never true !They hold big hopes for me and you .
But when we grasp some treasured dreamI t vanishes, and is never seen .
There is a land beyond all dreamsWith open eyes we ’ll see its scenes .We shall awake no longer bl ind,We ’ll leave false dreams then all behind .
A beauti ful land awaits somewhere,
When we shall drop our load of care !Then on we’ll plod through dreamy yearsTo the land where there are no tears .
78 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
YOU NEED NOT A SK ME .
Youneed not ask me why I l inger here,H ere on this storm y coast of time ,Where storms of fury ever beatingOn th is defence less head of mine !
I shrink from Charon ’s silent rowingOut on the stil l and pulseless sea,C l inging to l ife l ike miser to his goldHoping he ’l l never cal l for me .
I l inger here ’mid pain and pleasure,
Through sunny days and dark’
n ing night,Dream out the mystery of the future ,
W ith all the thrills of pure delight .
Ever cl inging to this pulsing l ife,
Yet sti ll unwilling to l et go.
Fac ing every bounding, swell ing waveI stand steady to receive the blow
’
T is l ife,’tis l ife with all i ts pains
I cl ing to it through every stress .C loser, closer sti l l I hug this shore,Sti l l thinking this poor l ife is best .
Oh, ye native h il l and rugged shoreI fear thy storm but love thy calm !On thee I would l inger evermore ,Though but a frail and mortal man .
A PILGRW ’
S THOUGHTS.
THE POWER TO SEE .
I wish we had the power to seeTo see ourselves as others see .I think I see, my sight i s near !When others look the V ision ’s clear.
I look at self ! the lens not trueDon ’t show as when I look ‘ at you.
On other ones it shows up rightTurn it on me—I lose my sight .
A h, me ! ah , me ! I know I
’
m wrong !My heart is true , if sight is gone .Well may I blush to use my eye
When it’s as plain as stars on high .
Some things it’s best we do not see,Sight might bring in great misery .
A wandering spirit has been mine,
’
Tis j ust as well my light don ’t shine .
I f all were written in a book ,I’
d close my eyes— refuse to look .
’
Twould waken sad,sad memory
’
T is j ust as well to let it be .
Oh, l et me close my eyes again ,To hide a page so fraught with pain .
But, oh, alas ! it leers at me ,A nd will to all eternity .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 81
IN MOTHER DUST .
A weary one, I fain would restUpon my mother
’s loving breast.Down in her dust I ll lay my head !My friends will say, Now he is dead .
In her dear arms I ’ll rest againA nd never know a single pain !Back to her dust these limbs must go,
SO painless I shall never know.
I’
ll waste away—a skeletonNo longer be a mortal one !But dust and ashes will be leftA nd all my being there be cleft .
How weird ! how long, oh! shall it be ?
Will the earth hold what once was me ?How sad the theme on which I dwell,I do not know, and it
’s as well .
I live,I die, I go to sleep.
What power there shall my dust keep !Down in the silence of the grave,Does some one stand my dust to save ?
Say, shall I rise from Mother Earth ?
A nd shall I have another birth ?A nd shall I live and love again ?I t may be so, but it seems strange.
I strive , I long, and wish to see
What the beyond still holds for me.
Why should I fret ? Why should I care ?I’
m in a loving Father’s care.
82 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
I BOWED JENNY HOME !
When gomg home the other nightThe stars all winked and shone so bright !For I had bowed Jenny home
,
A nd we’
d sipped honey all alone !The brightness of her glorious eyesThey shone as stars up in the s kies .My soul was full of melody,A nd I as happy as could be .
I dreamed I heard an angel ’s voice !I t thrilled
‘
my heart and I rejoiced .
The air was full of heaven ’s thrills !The desert smiled and laughed the hills .
Sweet harmonies were all around ,A nd my glad feet scarce touched the ground ,For now I walked in parad ise,A nd call to witness all the skies .
Long I had worshipped at her shrine !This night I asked her to be mine,A nd she said “Yes ,
” and oh , the bl iss !I sealed it with a holy kiss !Now I am happy as can be !The night winds now all laugh with me.The stars above all seem to smile,Love still remains a happy Child
Love ’s bow is bent ! what wonders thrill !Fl ies from his magic arrow still !I look around with gladdened eyes,A nd
“Jenny’ss” writ on all the skies .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 83
THE WORLD ROLLS ON .
The world rolls ou— rolls on ! rolls on !A nd with it ro l ls the mighty throng.
We come, we go, in end less flow,
A s in the times of long ago.
We roll to earth like helpless child ,Soon we are lost out in the wi ld .
Wé plod along,’mid rain and snow
,
Back to the dust we all must go.
Sti l l roll ing, rolling, roll ing on ,
A sleep amid the si lent throng,A ll heedless of the howling storm ,
A s s i lent as before we’re born .
Bereft, l eft ly ing cold and chi l l ,W ith other sleepers on the h i l l .Sti l l this old earth goes roll ing on ,
D isturb ing not the sleep ing ones .
Oh, roll ing world with rol l ing tide,I s there no cave for me to h ide ?A nd not to be tossed as on the seaBe tossed and tossed eternally !
I am a poor, lost, bl inded man !A - trembl ing on the tides I stand .
When st i lled the heart-throbs of my breast,Oh. cease to roll and give me rest .
84 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
MY D REAMS TODAY .
I s it and dream my dreams todaySo silent and so lonely !I dream and dream, forever dream ,
T i l l dreaming seems quite holy .
The earth seems built on dreamy dreamsThe skies above us bendingThe hills and mountains lifted up ,
A nd all the starry heavens .
The gl iding days and flying yearsSeem l ike the streams a- running,A nd all the wonders that we see
A re dreams let loose and s p inning.
The cattle of the hills and moorsA re but as dreams a-walking,A nd as we gaze upon the scene ,We
’re dreaming as we ’re talking.
Bright Stars look down with . dreamy eyes ,Beyond our comprehending,A nd send thei r searchlights to the worldTheir l ight and love extending.
A sleep , awake , we’re dream ing on ,
The dreams of poor old nature,A nd cannot tell b ird , beast or manFrom any other creature .
A nd sti l l we go, hot- footed goThe dream s of l ife sti l l testingWe never stop our dream ing dreams ,A nd never th ink Of resting.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 85
HAIL THE NEW YEAR .
A ll hai l , all hai l , the bright New Year !A ll hail the youth with - lusty cheer !A ll love the smile upon his faceH e is so young and full of grace .
The O ld Year’s gone to his long home ,This youth is seated on his throne .Come , take h is hand , he
’s leader now !There ’s high resolve stamped on his brow .
Takes all my friends under h is care,Leads on through all that’s foul or fair .H e
’
s tender to the weak and wan ,H e l eads along in love ’s own name .
What lies beyond is hid from usH is friendly hand we all can trustTo help us up the steepest hillThen follow on with right good w i ll .
H e’
s tender to the young and gay,For they so often lose their way .
I f tenderness and love be th ine ,H e ’l l l ead thee on through fleeting time .H e ’l l bless each one, he blesses all .H is hands are soft to all who call .He
’l l hold for all a help ing hand,To every child and every man .
I f in his arms we weaken , d ie ,He
’l l s ing to us love ’s lullaby ,A nd over us h is watches keep !When li fe goes out rock us to sleep .
H e now is king, and al l bow down !L i st ! hear the new song through the town !A ll hai l , al l hai l the bright New Year !The old is gone, the new is here.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
THE KING WILL COME .
The King wi l l come l The King wi l l com e !
I n chariot all complete .The King will come in grand array !Prepare thy King to meet .H e tarries not ! H e
’
s on the wayWith justice in h is hands
,
A nd He wi l l j udge the sinful oneA nd every sinful man .
H e’
s on the way with !ust rewards ,A nd with all healing balm .
He’
s on the way with love and lawTo j udge each humble man .
Oh, mortal m an ,H e calls to you
With pleading, soothing voice .
H e comes with pardon in his handsTo make the world rej o ice .
To hungry ones that might starve hereHe Offers living bread .
He calls youup to l ife againOh, mortal , l ift your head !“Come unto me , ye weary ones ,A nd I will give yourest !A nd when the to i ls of l i fe are o’
er
I’
ll take youto my breast .”
To l ife that all immortal isA nd there’s no load of care ,T here youshall lay your burdens down’M id fields eternal , fair.The King wi l l come ! He tarries not,H is s igns are in the skies !A nd al l shall hear h is triumph ringA nd see H im with their eyes .
88 A PILGRIM’
S“
THOUGHTS.
DA YS GO PA ST .
Days go past with !oy or sorrow,
We sad ly wait but for the morrow.
The days go by beyond recal l ,With hope we wait tomorrow
’s call .A ll yesterdays are gone, are gone,A nd days and days still follow on .
We sigh on for tomorrow sti llWith all its hopes
,with al l its thri l l .
We want the j oys of other days,We ’l l risk the heat of sun ’s hot rays ,The days that pass are sweet to mindBut we must leave them al l behind .
We sigh for days far out of reach !We wish to know what they can teach .
Hope beckons on and waves her handTo all the tribes of mortal m an .
Days po int to many a heaving moundTo many sleepers
’neath the ground .
A sleep in peace , free from sorrows,The l iving crave all tomorrows .Oh, give to us tomorrow
’s storeA nd we ’ l l renew our
'
youth once more .
Tomorrow is our only hope ,For this we through the darkness grope.
Tomorrow ! oh, I s igh for thee ,I n hope and prayer and agonyTomorrow, how we cling to thee !Tomorrow, shall it ever be ?Today , today ! oh, days to be !Tomorrow, shall we ever see ?I’
m blind , I’
m bl ind , I cannot seeWhat the tomorrow holds for m e.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 89
SAD A RE THE CR IES.
Sad are the cries that greet my earsThrough all the passing of the years !There ’s grief and woe on eve ry handI n all the homes of this our land .
Bad laws got up by devils skilledA gainst the home, what
’
er we willed .
They spread thei r nets in he l li sh gleeA nd laugh at our great agony.
Their secret arts,all born of hell ,
The miseries of earth to swe l l !Pretending th is
,pretending that,
A ll with the devi l standing pat !Bunko God
’s temples as they please ,A nd seem to do it all with ease .How slow we mortals are to learnWe hardly know which way to turn .
We cast our ch i ldren to the fires ,’
T is rum the devil sti l l desires .We reckon not with sp irits lost,A nd never stop to count the cost .Oh, men , arise ! vengeance is spreadOver the living and the dead !’
Twill quench the fires of the stil lWhich brews to please the devi l ’s ski ll .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
I WISH I WA S YOUNG.
O h, I wish I was young again !L ike youso young and gay !I’
m sure that I would do my bestTo steal your heart away.
Those sparkl ing eyes of yours , myH ave power sure to win .
But, oh ! my child must careful be ,To wound would be a sin .
Love’s sharper than a s ickle keen,A nd makes a lasting woundDesp ise ye not your lover lad ,Nor plunge him into gloom .
Your cheeks are fa ir as any rose ,Your
’
re all a- thri l l with li fe .The king h imself might even dareTo choose thee for a wife .
Your hair i s l ike the raven’s WingWith strands of s i lken thread .
Your steps are l ike a l iving queenA nd poise thy queenly head .
Youare not rich , yet oh, so richI n all the wealth of youth !NO one in all the lands compareNot even lovely Ruth !
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 91
HEROD .
O ld H erod ruled in Bethlehem,
Pronounced by all a cruel man .
He sent his minions out to slayThe l ittle babes on that sad day .
Poor Rachal mourned wi thout rel ief,A nd that old fox laughed at her grief.Poor littl e babes were doomed to die !The world stil l hears the ir helpless cry.
How is it with those that rule today ?The blood of babes st i l l marks their way .
The l ittle ones throughout our landBeneath their sway are doomed and damned .
The vilest poison brewed Of hell’
Tis now the ir legal right to sell—1
Fi lls up the homes with fel l dispair,
A nd !oy can n ever enter there .
The l ight of j oy dies in our homesWe see the ir doom ! we hear their groans,Wh il e darkness broods forever thereL ive without hope, d ie in despair.Thousands to one that H erod slew,
Die by th is long-protected brew.
We vote for men that send to slayThe l ittl e babes in th is our day.
They do it with a smirk , a sm i l e ,Nor l ift their feet from off the ch i ld .
Protect the brewers and the bloatsI n cutting littl e children ’s throats !Oh, men ! forbear thi s cruel wrong !Have mercy on the child ! You
’re strong !A nd go not with the brewer manYour ne ighbor’s child to crush and damn .
92 A PIZGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
HEA R , OH HEA VENS!
Hear, oh heavens ! hear, oh earth !Mother traveled gave me b irth .
Born of spirit and of the manA mystery of heaven ’s plan .
Yet I to nature slavish beThere are chains sti l l b inding me .I n compact round with li fe and deathWe ighed to me is every breath .
A helpless child and then a man ,F ighting nature the best I can .
O ften wounded and prone I lay .
Stern nature kil ls, it wins the day .
I fight in weakness,I must y ield ,
For nature stands to win the field .
When nature calls then I must go,
Whither I ’m called , yes or no.
I f I fight , it i s all in vain .
Just like a warrior I ’ll be slain .
Must yield my li fe , give back my breath ,A nd go along w ith grinning Death .
I f no weakl ing, but gifted strong,O ld nature calls for my death song,A nd all the years he gives to menW i l l al l be taken back aga in .
A nd thus a slavish slave I be,For soon he ’l l lay h is hands on me .
Then back to nature I must go,For nature seems to love m e so.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 93
YE STA RS OF L IGHT .
Ye stars of l ight , forever sh ineOn this low darkened p ath of m ine !Though distant far, yet, oh ! how near !How oft my lonely path youcheer !
L ike glitt’
ring signs youguided meUpon the land or on the sea !A nd when the summer days are here ,Youfil l them all so ful l of cheer .
Yougaze on all with gentle eye,A nd glorify both earth and sky.
Youseem to call us up and up ,A nd sweeten every earthly cup .
Oh, stars ! I f I‘
could clasp and hold,A nd with youthrough strange regions roll ,The M ighty One m ight nearer be ,
A nd all thy wonders I might see .
Bright star, thy beam is on us sti l l !How oft we
’ve felt thy magic thri ll !O ft gaz ing through a tear-d immed eye,
We long for eagle’s wings to fly .
Away ! away ! thy home to see !To search for all thy mystery !Our flight l it by thy burning l ight ,A s we see vis ions of the n ight .
Oh, stars of l ight , sh ine on ! shine on !A nd lead us to our better home.
Send gentle l ight so full of cheer,To every wandering traveler here.
94 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
I’
LL TELL MY TA LE .
I’
ll tell my tal e to winds and gale,To all that p ity me .
To days that fly , to clouds of skyT ell out my misery.
Sad is this l ife of bitter strifeMy sword grows very dull
I strike and strike with mighty weightThick is the warrior’s skull .
My arm grows weak when foem en speak ,There ’s terror in his vo ice .
My sword I take his skull to break ,But li fe is stil l h is cho ice
No strength have I to win or die !Can
’t break his stubborn wi l lBut sti l l I ’ll fight with all my m ight
A nd yet he ’s l iving sti ll .
Oh, for the power for just one hourThe v ictory to gain .
I’
ll bear al l wounds , all fearful wounds ,A nd suffer all death
’s pain .
Oh, weary fight, both day and night,The battl e sti ll is on .
My arm grows weak , weary for sleep ,A nd wish a victory won .
To mortal man , as heaven’s planned ,
The fight is ever on .
But blow on b low the battl es go,
But they are never won .
In weariness and feeblenessI stand with sword and shield .
Through all my youth I’
ll guard the truth ,A nd swear to never y ield .
96 A PILGRIM’
S THOU GHTS.
THE THORN TREE .
In the upland and on the lawnThere grows a tree we call the thorn
A rather low and rugged tree,I t
’
s thorns so sharp say “Let me be .I t bears a blossom pure and whiteWhich glimmers in the darkest n ight
,
Sheds a purfum e beyond compare,
That fil ls with fragrance all the air.
I t blossoms and lingers long in spring,
The l ittle b irds there nest and sing.
That thorns protect from larger foesThe l ittle fe llows seem to know .
Then when the blossoms fade and d ie ,When summer harvest i s well nigh
,
The purpling fruit doth then appearA nd l inger late into the year.
How oft we see its fiery redA ll hung in clusters overhead !
A nd when the leaves are flown and gOne,Red cheeked berries hanging on .
A hearty p lant in sun or shadeN0 need to ask why they were made.
The l ittl e birds can tell youwhy,A ll who its fragrance l inger nigh .
I ts thorns a castl e for the b irds !T here safe from hawk and trampl ing herds
They bu i ld the ir nests and make a home,Amid its leaves and sweetest bloom .
I f youwould pluck its flowers sweetYoushould be careful and d iscreet,
The sharpened spears wi ll p ierce your hand .
Then youthe b irds wil l understand.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 97
THE NIGHT A T REST .
The heavy to i l of day is doneDeep shades of night are com ing on .
A quietude creeps o’
er the land,
The hour of rest is now at hand .
The cooler Winds begin to blow,
A nd wave the tall trees to and fro,
L ike billows on a restle ss sea ,They moan and wail , and cry to me .
Low murmuring 18 all that’s heardSave the shri ll note of some lone b ird,L ike hooting owl or wh ippoorwill ,Out from the dell or some lone h i ll .
N ight ’s lullab ies hush all to rest ,A nd sil ence l ies on nature ’s breast .The moon and stars come out to see
How tranqui l this old world can be .
A nd all breathe in one long sweet breath ,Deep as the sleep wh ich some call death .
T hank God for beds to rest upon ,When wearied w ith the day that’s gone.
98 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
WA RM , HA ZY D AY.
’
T is a warm , sunny , hazy day ,I’
m content in the shade to lay .
The re is a hum of busy beesA mong the green and leafy trees .A -quiver in the hot sun beams ,Low murmur of the running streams ,T heir gentle winds with gentle sweepA ll seem to lull me into sleep .
I stretch and turn and close my eyesTo blinking brightness of the skies .A s everything is so unrealI hardly know just how I feel .I’
m all borne down with lass itude !I lay and gaze on solitude ,A nd everything seems to be deadMy lazy body feels l ike lead .
So I just 10 11 and gaze and gazeOut into the simmering haze !Too lazy to sit up or lay.
Let Father T ime push time away.
Half sleep,half wake
,no care at all !
The gentle shades around me fal l .Too dull to either think or dreamThrough half- closed eyes gaze on the scene .
There ’s not a sound now to be heardSave the twitter of some lone bird ,Which strives to raise songs from its breast .I t wakes me up ! now I can hearLow murmurs in the trees so near.That woeful song that swells the trees,When stirred up by the passing breeze .
100 A PIL‘
GRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
IN SANER MOMENTS.
In saner moments I have thoughtO f all the works and wonders wrought
,
The miracles of raising dead ,When sick and lame leap from the ir bed .
O f all the mysteries of love ,Which brought the Gods down from above,A nd suffering here for fellow manI s something I can
’t understand .
What wonders in this world are wrought !I s blood that’s shed all come to naught ?I f Christ rose not there hangs a gloomOver the garnished marble tomb
But if he rose , the world can cry ,The soul ofman shal l never die !T ravail and pain have brought worlds hope,The strength of Gods men can invoke .
He rose , he rose ! H e l eft the tomb ,A nd gave to earth a richer boon !A nd now he has the power to save ,
A nd snatch a victory from the grave .
Break , break ! ye tombs ! Your prison bars !Behold the dazzling Bethlehem stars !Cold granite rock with s ignets sealedA rm of the m ighty Christ shall feel .
The Christ arose and so shall we !Our grave a place of rest shal l be .T ill morning, when the sun shall rise,A nd He shall be as cloudless skies.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 101
THE TREES.
How glorious are the trees that standThroughout the borders of our land !So tall and slim uplifted high ,A ppear l ike children of the sky .
When breezes blow just hear them . talk.
They wave their heads and seem to walk .
I n serried ranks they seem to go,
A nd wave their plumes all to and fro .
A nd as they move all murmuringI cannot tell the song they s ing !A low sweet chant to .natur.e
’
s God,A s to his presence they all nod.
How stately, how supremely grandA m id the rocks and hil ls they stand.
A nd seem to call to us belowCome up to where the breezes blow !
Sure , some are brown and some are green,But all add beauty to the sceneThe birch , the oak, the maple tree ,A ll m ingle there in harmony .
There feathered songster builds its nest,A nd there the fallow d eer finds rest,They hold a world that ’s all the ir ownW ith woodland nym pth and lonely gnome.
102 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
BE GENTLE, WA TERS.
Be gentle, waters, in your flow!My lover sleeps far down below .
H e left my side and sail ed away .
He never more will sai l they say .
I n hungry wave h is ship went downI n grief and sorrow I am bound .
I f grief would give him back to m e,
T hat grie f I ’d give so free, so free .
This i s a wretched fate of mine !H e was so Winsome and so kind !My heart is with him where he sleepsDown in the ocean ’s cavern deep .
The mermaids there wil l comb h is hairA nd kiss his l ips, so sweet and fair !Yet I may never love againWhile life and hope for me remain .
The few last words he spoke to m e
Now thri l l my soul with melodySpoke of a home of happy years !I n place of that it i s hopeless tears .
My love is gone, I’
m all alone,I hug the shadows of a home .I f heaven had been k ind to m e,
I’
d be asleep beneath the sea.
104 A PILGRIM’
S T HOUGHTS.
THE KING WILL COME .
The King wi l l come to claim h is own ,
A nd take them to their long sought home,From perils here that crowd the way .
With !oy we’ll hai l the sweet glad . day .
The King wi l l come to claim his own,
To give to each a crown , a home.
We ’re on our way to meet the King,A nd through the gates we ’ l l enter in .
He cometh ! Glory to H is name !For us H e suffered wounds and pain .
The cross is past, H is crown is on ,
For us the victory is won .
The King has come , bright as the sun .
E ternal l ife for eve ry one !He braved the curse of death and s inThat we may freely enter in .
The King“
has come ! We ’l l swell the song !He bids us j oin the mighty throng.
From sin and death forever free,Hai l this our year of j ub i lee !
The King has come ! I t means a home,A harp , a crown , a rest, a throne .A ll tears be wiped from out our eyes .Celestial days ! sweet Paradise !
A PIL M’
S THOUGHTS. 105
WHEN LIFE IS DONE.
When the sweet boon of l ife is passed,A nd I go to my rest,A nd I am hid from gaze of men,A nd dai sies grow on my breast .When I shal l sleep the si lent sleepWith dear ones gone before
,
A nd wake not at the coming mornA s I have done before .
We go to rest , we go to peaceWhen li fe ’s pulsing day is done !N0 more to greet the coming day
,
O r view the rising sun .
Play hide and seek with ghostly formsThat bide my dwel l ing place ,A nd cheer my mansion with the tribesO f all the human race .
The gloom that hangs l ike curtains roundShuts out the light of day !A ll toil and grief forever gone ,A nd never pass my way .
My time is up , my race is run,Grim Death has set h is stakes ,A nd marked the spot where I must sl eepT i l l trump shall b id me wake .
106 A PI L’
GRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
OH , WHAT A SWEET SECRET .
Oh, what a sweet secret’tis my Savior to know !
When troubles assai l m e and floods overflowH is arms wi ll enfold me, my soul set aflam e,
I plead without chiding to hear H i s swee t name.
H is face was the fai rest that ever was seen,
Far fai rer than light or than any sunbeam .
He has girdled my l ife with love al l d ivineA Savior so lovely , I
’
m glad He i s m ine.
H e cried , Ho, to the weary, all that ath irst !Come drink at the fountain that
’s opened afresh .
I came and drank til l my soul satisfiedI n Jesus my Savior, for me He has died .
A s I gaze on H is brow so lofty , so fair.See the mark of the thorns which sti ll l inger there ,Lo, I fall at H is feet sobb ing with grief,To th ink of H is sorrows to bring me relief .
He touched me so tender, he bid me rise .
“I am your redeemer and great sacrifice .
Then a wave of great bli ss rolled over my soul .I love H im , I thank H im for all He has told .
108 A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
A L ITTLE FELLOW .
A l ittle fellow on the floor,A wee mite we all adore .He
’
s searching out for mysteries .Oh, what wonders now he sees !Bright twinkl ing eyes turned up to youDipped in heaven ’s brightest blue .Just what is what he would be W ise !See the wonder in his eyes .
Could he talk , what would he sayYou ’l l find out some future day .
H e wants to know, and know it all ,I f he is so wee and small .What great mighty secrets lay beforeThe l ittle one whom we adore ?I f youcan tell , Oh , tell it meWhat wi l l be h is destiny ?
The road is rough , the hil l s are steep .
There ’s stones to bruise his tender feet.Then bear h im up so tende rlyTo a glorious destiny .
Oh, guide his feet and save the ch i ld ,With his innocence so mild .
A ll of the way till l i fe is doneMay the nobler l ife be won .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 109
POOR ME .
Poor me , poor me ! I ride the wave ,A lthough I am not over brave .A mid the waves , what can I do ?Dim are the skies of heaven ’s blue .
They roll , they swell , they ever cry“Master of l ife ! Be ever nigh !”
The big waves roll , beat my canoe,A mid these waves , what can I do ?
Master of l ife ! Oh,pity me !
A s I sai l on a boisterous sea .
Oh, guide me to some peaceful shore ,Where I can rest forever more .
The night is dark , so dark and drearI t fil ls my soul with dreadful fear.When will the dawning morning comeTo greet the rising of the sun ?
Oh, doubting soul , sai l on ! sail on !Soon stormy passage will be done,A peaceful harbor waits for mePoor sai lor on a storm- tost sea .
110 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
A LL OUR WAYS.
A ll our ways are fraught with trials !Rough the way to tender feet .Thorns and th istles grow the h ighway
,
A nd the hills are rough and steep ,Be ye not l ike lowing cattle
,
Bending oft beneath the yoke ,See the heroe s Upward cl imbing !A ll the ir help youcan invoke .
H ear the vo ice of courage sounding,
Look above, and help implore !Lo, from a height the cry triumphant ,Ever call ing at your door.Be not fearful , fight on bravely ,Though the battle rages fierce .On to battle clothed with armorWh ich no lance can ever p ierce .
What of toil and what of labor !What of burdens wh ich youbear !I n the conflict stand up bravelyW ith a heart to do or dare .B ivouac tonight at Hopetown !I n the evening further on ,
W ith your arms all burnished ready ,Sure the victory wi ll be won .
112 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
I F WE WE RE NOT SO BL IND .
I f youand I were not so bl indThen we might go some cl ime to find ,A nd l eave our doubts and fears behind .
Some summer land that holds no fear,There spend the swi ftly flying yearW ithin that land, with fri ends to cheer.
A land that ’s ful l of sweetest gems,A nd every one is a true friend
,
With all our worries at an end .
Come let us go and tarry not,Where friendly hands shal l cover blotT ogether there we ’l l cast our lot .
For even now I often dreamI’
m in that land of pleasant scene,A nd dreaming ho ly , happy dreams .I could not go and leave you here ,Where oft our eyes are full of tears ,To wash away our earthly fears .
I f you and I could only guessHow pleasant is that land of rest ,How we would hasten to be blest .When in that future land of songWe ’d never dream of doing wrong,We ’d doff our weakness and be strong.
Hai l,l and immortal ! land of cheer !
We’d never wail the storms we fear,But all our days be days of cheer.Then hand in hand we ’l l travel onW ith faces to that land of song,Though !ourney
’s rough ,’twi l l not be long.
A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 113
SUMMER DA YS COM ING SOON .
Swe et summer days are coming soon,
The roses then will burst and bloom,
The cricket and the busy beeWill come and sing their songs to me .
Oh, blessed days of summer time,When everything looks so subl ime !The maple and the poplar treesShake the ir green glori es in the breeze .
They wave their plumes ! See how they nod,A s to the sway of mighty God !A s upward sti ll they struggle , rise ,Sti l l nearer, nearer, to the skies .
They s ing their hymns in gentle wai lsA long the wooded shady trail s .’
Tis summer time now everywhere .
I t’
s in the skies , it’s in the air.
I t’
s in the field , it’s in the wood,
’
Ti s summer time and God is good .
H e paints the tints upon the skies ,A nd b ids the bow of promise rise .
The apple blooms now scent the air,A nd shed the ir glories everywhere .
A nd every shrub and bush and tree,May clap its hands in jubilee .
The ch i l l of winter ’s past and gone,Sweet summer time at last has come ,Fain I would go, barefooted boy ,
To m eet the summer time with !oy .
Where once the ch il l of winter slept,The ground was dark and cold and wet !Now flowers ris ing from their tombIn summer time in glory b loom .
114 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
A STORM CAME DOWN .
A‘ storm came down upon the sea !I t shrieked and raved most terribly .
I t heaved our ship,wh ich rocked and rocked
A nd quivered at each heavy shock!
Great thunders raved along our track,A s if the world had gone to rack .
F ierce lightnings flashed to Show our way ,I nto the safe though distant bay .
The clouds hung low in darkest gloom ,
A s if the sea was one great tomb .
Oh, it was terrible to seeThe waves in such an agony !
A h, there was troubl e on the deep !I could not rest , I cou1d not sleep ,For God and nature talked to me
Upon the swell ings of the sea.
How grand and terrib le the sea,When waves roll h igh and w inds are free !When all the elements uniteTo trouble day and terror night .
Oh, sea, be calm ! Oh, sea, be calm !For I am but a feeble man .
Thy terrors are too much for me.Be calm, oh sea, be calm ! be calm !
116 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
A PR I L SNOW .
When balmy days in A pri l come,We think old Winter’s work is done ,T i l l all at once the sky ’s o’
ercast,
A nd snow and rain begin to splash .
The dust wh ich had begun to fly,Which winds and sun had made to dry ,Now lay in heaps all black and blearA nd looks so melancholy, drear.
Then comes a tumble of pure snow,
The cold north winds begin to blow .
Young Summer brushes fli es awayA nd lets oldWinter have his say .
Then we have mud and lots of oo! e,A nd everybody has the blues !There
’s something we don ’t understand ,Why Summers are not better planned .
The snows of A pri l or ofMayJust seem to drive all !oy away !But it ’s a fact that all must knowWe ’ ll have to stand and let i t snow .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 117
SWELL , SWELL , YE W INDS.
Swell , swell , ye winds that fil l my sai lsA nd bear me on to destiny !
Sink down to calm , ye swe l l ing wavesA nd let smooth seas my passage be .
Let seagulls sail on tireless wings,Be constant as my sails that swell !
Be ever constant, Oh , ye winds ,A nd bear me o’
er the ocean ’s swe l l .
The future ever beckons on ,
On , ever on , o’
er waves and tides .For soon all distance wi ll be gone !
Safe in the harbor we shal l ride .The seagull then wi ll fly away
!Nor linger on the banks of Dee!Far out amid the ocean ’s spray,
A nd bring no message back to me .
There in those i slands upward l iftSweet sp irits will around me sing.
There sweetest harmonies shall drift,Both sea and land with music ring.
My sai ls shall shred and fly away,The mighty waves shall smite the shore !
My keel shal l rot wi thin the baySail rugged seas no more, no more !
Let some sweet upland be my home ,Where never ro l ls a restless sea .
N0 more l ike seagull shall I roamI n that sweet upland ever be .
There every wave in silence husht.The sun of !oy shall rise on me .
There ever free from s in ’s dark curseWhere swells the deeps of harmony.
118 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
BLEST BE THE D AY WE MET !
Blest be the day when we first met !I ts memory lingers sweetly yet .W ith love we ’re bound in holy bandsOur l ives entrusted to H is hands .
Now many years have passed away,
W ith you I ’ve traveled al l the way .
When children came to share our lotOur home became a hallowed spot .
The way sometimes a little rough ,Somehow we sti ll had faith to trust .The clouds that overhung our skyWith love and patience soon passed by .
The stars above sti ll shed thei r l ight ,Strew on our path star- beams so bright .The valleys and the hill s we trodA re leading up to faith in God .
How blest and peaceful all the way !B l est be H i s name ! I now can sayOh! ble ssed Chri st ! l ead on , l ead on !Sti l l be our guide ti l l we get home .
T hese days will end as all days must !We ’l l cl ing to thee in holy trust .When toi l is done , God b ids us rest .Sti l l may we be supremely b lest .
120 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
THE BUMBLE BEE .
Oh, yes, I am a bumble bee ,I roam the prairies wild and free .A gladiator with sharpened spear !I make m en tremble when I ’m near.
A s I rove the wide world over,
I suck nectar from red- cheeked clover,
I f you insu lt or bother meI wi l l settle the score with thee .
I go buzzing through th is old world,A s busy as any boy or girl .I build my home and guard it wellJust ask the farmer, he can tell .
Down in the ground I build and live,Sup all the sweets this world can give .’
T i s there I rear my little babes ,A nd at their feet earth swe ets are la id .
A nd I go buzzing, buzzing onA nd every inch is fi l l ed with song.
Some people think I always sing’
T i s but the humming of my wing.
When some rude one crosses my path ,A nd vexes me to cruel wrath ,Then I get up and go for himA nd freely, freely use my sting.
I f truth were known I do declareThat I can make a preacher swear.A t l east get mad and say
“H elen B lazes
A nd stand and rub in sad amaze.
A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 121
GU IDE MY PEN .
Come , genius , come , and guide my penT o speak the words that wi l l help me n !That every thought that storms my brainMay help to l i ft the weak again .
Words are words,but rudely spoken
May drop on hearts well nigh broken .
Give me the words of lofty cheerTo wh isper in discouraged ear.
H eavy hearts may linger near you ,T hen speak to them the words so true !Give them a hand of helpful love ,L ike the bright day spring from above .
D ust and ashes will drift around,Foul spirits stand lives to confound !Cl ing to one who ’s great in power,Gives strength to conquer e very hour.
Write the words or be they spokenTo cheer poor hearts well—nigh broken .
Soft let them fall on listing ears ,Words with healing, big words of cheer.
Toil on,comrades ! God i s waiting.
Toilers shall not be forsaken .
H eaven above doth brightly shine,H e that watches is all divine .
122 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
ON TO BA TTLE .
On to battle, ye brave men, nowSound the tocsin on mountain ’s brow.
D on the armor and grasp the spear,
V ictory will crown the coming year.
Gi rd every m an that has no fea r,Gather the clans from far and near !God is call ing ! to battle go,
A nd strike for him with steady blow.
M id confusion or rolled in blood !Fight the fight for truth and God !Thy great commander bids thee on ,
Unti l the victory is won .
No feeble arms can stay the tide,The confl ict rages far and wideTo the brave a l l things will come ,Then storm the fort, fight on , fight on !
The fight will never be in vain !Without the fight there ’l l be no gain .
I f in fight thou fallest down,
Thou shal l ri se with prince ’s crown .
When the rol l is called , the battle won ,Thy Chief shall say ,
“Well done , well done !A nd thou shalt go when confl ic t
’
s wonSti l l marching with the conqueror
’s crown .
O n to the conflic t, _ all youbrave ,The helpless look to you to save .Die with armor on , sword in hand ,A nd for the good of fellowman .
124 A PILGRIM’
S’
THOUGHTS.
GRA DUA TES.
Oh,’ti s al l over
,tasks are all done !
We’
ve had our days of toi l and fun !Now larger things before us lay .
A s we go out to j oin the fray .
T en thousand voices call ing usTo toi l for man—“I n God to trust .We ’re ready , eager for the fray .
We ’l l up and at it from this day .
Sweet days of fellowship are past .Ho ! for the harvest fields at last !You count on us for we are in ,To do our best with brain and V im .
The world ’s in need of strong and brave,We ’l l go and help to fight and save !For al l the days we
’ve spent to learnGive vigor to our feeble arms .
The world ’s in need ! there’s lots to do !
The task is great, we’l l push it through .
Victory waiting and it wil l comeSure as the morning brings the sun .
Success is for the hands that toil ,A nd they shall reap a glorious spo i l .Soon we shall go to si lent hallsWith gathered sheaves when Master calls .
The earthly praise we wil l not crave,Let toi l all count beyond the grave .
We ’ll do the best we can wh i le hereFight out our fight without a fear.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 125
The kind farewells we say todayW i l l cheer us often in the fray .
The sunny eyes we look intoWill help us push the battle through .
There ’s j oyful , holy things in life ,There ’s wounds to heal , there
’s tears toThen let us go with loving handsA nd carrying healing to all lands .
We ’ll be true to pledges givenThen we shal l meet in h igh heaven .
For all the way is laid w ith love ,A ll duties lead to courts above .
THE BIRTH OF SONG.
A song is born of sound or s ightOn wings of winds that blow ,
O n drifting c louds in dripp ing rainsA nd fleecy , fal l ing snow !
Out on the h i l l s and mountains highWhere wave the p iney trees !
L ike stately armies on the marchThey bend to pass ing breeze .
O r born of armie s on the march ,Where booming cannons roar,
A mid the agonies of deathA nd floods of human gore !
Out on the waves of sweeping floodsWhere angry waters rave !
A m id the wrecks of s ink ing shipsWhere p i l e the watery graves .
126 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
O r born am id the peaceful walksO f l ife ’s sweet lullab ies ,
Where happ iness stil l reigns supreme,
A nd gentle are the skies !A nd where the little babies wait
The warm and gentle kiss !The ir dimpled cheeks and feeble hands
How sadly we would m iss .
A nd where the gentle maiden meetsH er noble lover boy ,
With both their souls athril l with loveA nd l ife becomes a !oy !
From every hil l they rise in troopsA nd dance in darkest night
,
A nd greet the bursting forth of dayW ith songs of pure del ight .
Way on the mountain ’s pearly topYou ’l l hear the sound of song !
Fierce winds and rocks unite to swellI ts peans right along.
The l ightn ings flash ! great thunders peal !Leap ing from hil l to hi l l ,
A nd break in terror everywhereWith great and mighty thri l l .
The howl of winds , the fall ing rain ,Unite to swell the song,
A nd shake my door,tattoo my roof
For weary hours long.
Sure everything that hath a breathBreathes forth the voice of song !
The deaf, the dumb , the bl ind , the lame,Un ite to he lp along.
A nd all that is or i s to beThrough ages yet to come,
W il l help the poet write it out,Ere yet the song is done .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
OLD MA RCH .
O l’
d March is howl ing round again,Just listen how he snores !He
’
s l ifting everything that’s looseA nd shaking all our doors .
H e’
s lasht the trees in violent rage,A nd shakes his snowy mane !With rant and roar on n imble feetGoes rushing o ’er the plain .
He plucks the snow from frigid cloudsA nd throws it in your face,A s on he goes in whirl ing windsA nd dances through all space .
When all h is fury’s spent in wrath ,Grows meek as any lamb ,Welcomes the sun in glorious skies ,A nd floods with !oy the land .
Scarce have we doft our winter hat,When he lets loose again ,A nd comes careen ing on the gale ,W ith snow, and sleet , and rain .
We’re all mixed up and much perplext,Don’t know just what to wear,Whether to dress for summer sh ine,O r for his blast and blare.
O ld March is here, we surely knowHe
’
s n ipp ing at our ears .A nd sends the cold and stinging pains ,Wrings from our eyes the tears .
We stamp our feet and clap our hands ,To keep each member warm ,
Yet sti ll in triumph on he goes ,Upon the wings of storm .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 129
THE DAYS HAVE COME.
The days have come , the blessed days ,The days of Calvary,
When songs of triumph ring aroundA nd they are sung to me .
These wayward feet have wandered farTo call for such a gift.
H is offers free to even meThough far away I drift .
H is love is mine , his dearest love !H is cri es, his dying groan .
He raised H is body on the cross ,To l i ft me to a throne .
A crown of thorns , a purple robe,I n mockery put on .
A nd see, men kneel in mockery .
They smite and sp it upon .
Then , oh! the cross , the heavy cross !H e carried it for me .
A nd they my Lord d id cruci fyA nd nai l him to the tree.
A nd for th is love , oh ! Christ , my Lord ,H ere at Thy feet I
’
ll bow,
A nd if I cannot come aright,In m ercy show me how.
130 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
ON D ISTA NT H I LLS.
~ O n distant hills there l ies my homeThe h i lls so rough and steep ,
I cannot travel there alone,
W ith sore and blistered feet .
I look across the distant hills ,When darkness coming on .
The winds blow round me , cold and chill ,With moanings in their song.
T i l l some sweet angel , hovering near,Speaks some endearing word ,
Which falls like magic on my ear,Culled from God ’s blessed word .
Lo, I am with you to the endOf all things here below .
A nd I will be your constant friendA nd naught shal l overthrow .
Then I arise with rapturous thri llTo press my journey on .
I see the shrink ing of the hill s ,A nd hear a wave of song.
With quick’
n ing steps I hasten on ,
There ’s O ne that leadeth me !For al l my burdens H e has borne ,
A nd died to make me free .
132 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
WHERE THE SEA DOGS HowL.
Down where the sea dogs ever howl,To the rock, and waving pine !Where the big waves, snapping, snarling,Through all the years of tide and time .
Through months and years still howl ing on !T i l l the whole world aweary grows
,
I cannot tell the reason why,No earthly mortal ever knows .
Sometimes it breaks in tinkl ing tone,A s i f to lull the h i lls to sleep !A gain in thunder’s awful roars ,The swell ing waves rise up and leap .
’
T is not for mortal man to sayOh, hush thy ravings ! waves , be still !Why should
'
you be l low to the p ine,A nd lash with fury the lone hill ?
Why cannot you be sti l l , oh , seas,'
A nd kiss the gentle hi l ls in peace ?I f you ’re surcharged with swel l ing griefGo seek old Neptune for rel ief.
T ell h im to blow with gentle breath ,A nd not to ride thy tangled depth .
T hat you are weary with the clash ,A nd fain would stay to catch your breath .
Deep cal ls to deep ! Waves howl and roar !Thy sail a wreck far, far from shore !Stout be the hearts of sai lors brave,Who in the deep wil l find a grave .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 133
SOME TIME , SOME TIME,
Some time, som e time a day wi l l come,This loosened tongue be stricken dumb ,Th is languid l ife wi l l pass away .
Sti l l I can hear some sweet hope say !
Youyet shal l range E lysian fields ,A nd taste the pleasure heaven yieldsThe pleasure of immortal soulsShall ever round and round youroll .
A ntic ipating stil l happ ier hoursImmortal life , thy soul arouse !NO tented fields , no battle scars ,I n peace ’s own land no dreaded wars .
The unison of song shall breakO
’
er waving palm and shin ing lake ,Where trees of l i fe forever bloomNo sullen death , no dreaded tomb .
The chains that bind to m isery ,No more shall gal l or bother me .The King has come , He
’
s in command ,I’
m camp ing on Immanuel ’s land .
Th is is all m ine , my Father’s gift !
On stormy seas no longer drift.A ll round me now H is mans ions rise ,Fair towering bulwarks of the skies .
134 A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
H ISWORK IN GA LILEE .
A s the Master often told us,
A s H e toiled in Gal i lee ,I f mortals sought repentance
,
H is glory they should see .
Opened up a way for us ,O ffered salvation free !Thus H e taught h is followersI n land of Gal i lee .
Sin demands a sac rific eHe offers one so free !H imself He freely offers
,
The Man of Gal i lee .
Cruel death he put to flight !Black deaths forever flee .Sacrifice is al l completeBy man of Galilee .
God ’s own son has conquered death ,I ts darkened shadows flee .M ighty songs shall swell H is praise,Thou Man of Gal i lee .
A ngels sought to see it allSee how the world
’s made free .They could not tell ,
’twas revealedBy Man of Gal i lee.
Dark Egyptian n ight is goneA ll i ts dark shadows flee !L ight breaks through the darkest clouds,Through H im of Gal i lee.
136 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
THE BONDS.
There’s bonds ! T here ’s bonds that ever b indThe l imbs of struggling human kind !A nd when we struggle to be free ,Sti ll stronger, tighter, these bonds
’
be.
We, l ike blind Samson, tread the mi llA nd grind against our bitter wi ll,The sport of al l our enemies,Wh i l e the good sp irit ever grieves .
We struggle often to be freeBut find how strong these bonds can be !A nd thus we grind the weary dayUnti l we grind our l ives away .
How sad the fate of all in bond !They cry ,
“Oh, God ! how long ! how long ?
Come , shake the chains from off each l imb ,A nd b id our captured souls to s ing .
”
L ike Paul and Si las in the j ailOh, may our prayers like theirs prevail ,
A nd may our captive souls go freeFrom all our bonds to Worship Thee .
A nd may our beards of manhood growTo give us strength to overthrow !Serve Thee alone while we have breath ,A nd finally triumph o
’
er death .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 137
WHEN LOVE FI RST TAUGHT .
When love first taught the holy art,
When mother hugged her babe to heart,A nd answering kiss the sweet babe gaveThen love enthroned forever saved .
When in the crowning days of yout hLove built her temples strong in truth ,Love gave to love itself, its all ,Thus has it been since A dam ’s fall .
When man and maid stand face to face,T hey yield to love’s redeem ing grace !W ith j oy and love his l ife is laidDown at the feet of a sweet maid .
When youth is gone the crown ing years ,Bestirred by hope and haunting fearsThe crowning thought as we grow old,Love seems to take a firmer hold .
The man all bent , with whit’
n ing hair,Dreams his old dreams of maiden fair.How sweet the dreams and after glowA - thri l ls h is soul ! H e loved her so !
138 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
WHY SHOULD WE ?
Why should we ever snarl and snap,
A s i f by madness sm itten ?‘Nhy shou ld our words of sulphur smell,When softer words are written ?
Don ’t spit your venom in the ai r,Just l ike a little kitten ,
But when you have to speak or write,L et i t be something fitting.
When words of hate fly all around ,A nd oft by cowards written ,
A nd roll them out w ithout a thoughtA s senseless as the kitten,
Oh! l et your voi c e be soft and low,
With words and tones so gentle .Make them an index to your heart ,For love i s ever gentle .
L et fools and those of baser sortT hrow in the brass and metal !But gentl e words you ’ l l always findA ll crooked ways wi ll settle .
When big mouth speaks loud brawling out,W ith bill ingsgate and rattle
Hogs wi l l be hogs the whole world through ,L ike any other cattle .
A cooing dove is best to hear,A nd not the asses bray ing.
Deliver us from such as he !Oh, l et us all be pray ing !
A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
A way Up high, too h igh to reach .
I was so m ad I lost my speech .
They asked how much that fish would weigh ,I j ust told them to go away .
A nd then I tried to climb that bush .
I could pull , there was none to push .
When I got Up a little piece,I thought that bush was made of grease .I gave it up and called for help .
“We hear you, M iss , j ust help yourself.By that time I was truly madA nd W ished that men and fish were dead .
A t last my Tom ,my darling Tom ,
Hove in s ight , came whistl ing along.
A s he looked up and saw my plightH e said,
“I’
ll soon make that all right.He climbed that bush with twinkling eye,Untwined the l ine, made the l imbs fly,Then j umped down with a bow so sweet,A nd laid that hook down at my feet .
So I quit fishing there alone,Sat in the shade and fished for Tom .
I dropped shy bait into his brain,
T ried to catch him_
tim e and again .
I was not”
bui lt to fish for menTom said he would be my best friend .
I have of friends a whol e brigade,But fear I ’ll die a real Old maid .
The only b ite I got that dayWas by mosqu itoes on thei r way.
They made me mad and made me soreFish ing for fish is just a bore.I’
ll never go fish ing againI t
’
s all too risky—full of pain .
I’
ll bait no more for fish or friend,But only for free-hearted m en .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 14 1
A STRUGGLE FOR HOME.
The sun was hot, the dust was deep ,A s I sti l l struggled up the steepMy home sti ll lay so far away,Which I must reach ere c lose of day.
I trod the dells , mounted the hill s .I stil l toi led on with hope that thri l lsT oiled on
,for I was going home,
A nd heeded not the dust and stone .
H igh hills I cl imbed . No t ime to rest !The sun was sinking in the west ,B id me to haste ere darkness fe l lTo reach my home in lover’s dell .
I t is a dear sequestered spot !’
T is there kind heaven cast my lot .I t i s my home, a royal nest,There I can lay me down and rest .
Though comforts of my life be scant,What blessed days I there have spent !Love sits enthroned on wife and childThere peace of heaven on me smile .
My home , my home ! What blessed cheerComes over me when I draw near !NO gilded palace , hall or domeCould fil l my life as that dear home .
142 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
I’
LL TRAVEL ON.
I’
ll travel on though weary and worn,
Turn my face to the beating storm .
A s the days go by I ’ll travel on ,T hough hopes are dim, the day be gone ,Let what will come, I
’
ll travel on .
I must haste wh i le the day is on ,
For darkness comes at sett ing sun .
I’
ll gird my loins and hasten on .
E ach day is girt with light for me ,My l eader bids all darkness flee .
Bid me not stay , I must go on
Through gloom of clouds and beating storm !Where hills be steep , stil l on and on .
Sweet j oy awaits my journey ’s end ,There I shall greet my constant friend .
Come, grasp , my hand ! we’l l travel on !
We hold the promise of a crown,I f we stil l serve and follow on .
The offe r’s free , a stately
'
hom e
To lodge with Christ upon a throne .
What a blest friend , such hopes to give !To bless us ’
too while here we l ive .Our leader leads us on , sti l l on .
Probation time will soon be gone,With eagerness we ’ll travel on .
144 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
SO MA NY LAUGHS.
This world ’s a merry place to l iveI t has so many laughs to give .The dainty birds strong winged to flyA ll laugh at me with merry eye .
They wake me out of sleep at morn ,A nd chase the fly and wiggling worm !T hrow back their heads and laugh so gay ,Oh, saucy robin and blue j ay !
Down in the swamps where I oft go,
The touchm enots l ined up in a row !The drooping flowers could secrets tel lWhen bursting with a laughing spell .
So when I touch them with my handThey scatter seed all o ’er the land ,A nd seem to do it al l in glee ,A nd thus they turn the laugh on me .
The hollyhock, the tiger lily,Look at me and laugh so si lly .
They ’re sweet and good to look upon ,I’
m glad they ’re al l so full of fun .
There ’s bouncm g Be tsy and daffodilsThey bloom along our fronded hills .Sweet li li es , too , both tall and trim .
I love to see the tulips grin .
A nd thousands more our l ives begui l eThere ’s William sweet and maiden smi le ,A ll sweet and gay as gay can be .I’
m glad they grow to laugh at m e.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 145
SILA S C . SWA LLOW , PROH IBIT ION
CA NDIDA TE .
I s ing a song both clear and strong,
To leader of our clan .
He stands today the head of allA stately , honest man .
He never bowed the knee to m an,
H e worships God alone !A nd he ’s the one that we would have
To sit upon the throne .
T all as the pine that crowns our h i lls ,W ith honest eagle eye !
Hate never rankled in h is heart,Nor yielded to a l ie .
When enemies were camped,
aroundA fierce and howling pack
He stood like hero in the fray,L ike Samson cleared the track.
The stamp of L incoln on h is brow,
The stamp of truth on heart,Our l eader calls us to the fray,Brave still to act his part .
Strength of his arms he freely givesTo help the littl e child .
Dries mother’s tears and bids her hope ,
Yea , even learn to sm i l e .
Dark prison doors would open up ,
A nd those in chains go free .The world in !oy would shout and sing
The songs of jub i lee .
146 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
No loafers then should k indle firesThat burn eternally .
The v ictims of his greed of gainH e
’
d end their misery .
A un iversal song breaks forth ,A nd thril ls the world with song.
Our l eader gives the word to march ,With girded armor on .
Stands in the storm like rooted oakA s l ightning cleaves the air.
The very one that we should putI n presidential chair.
The s ick and weary world would rest ,A nd !oy would come again .
The low down revelers of rumWould hang the ir heads in shame.
Lo, now he cometh as the k ing,H is hands are full of peace .
For long the world surcharged with wrath ,But now there cometh ease .
BUBBLES.
L ittl e boy at home w ith mammy ,He
’
s the idol of his granny .
The old, original , barefoot boy ,
A ll his l ife on e round . of !oy ,
B lowing bubbles .
148 A P ILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
COMMUNION D A Y.
I spent an hour in God ’s house ,I t was Communion day,I n memory of the Son of God
‘
Who takes our sins away .
There kneeling at the altar lowThey passed the bread and wine ,The emblems of a body piercedFor this poor soul of mine .
When on the cross our Savior hungTo take our s ins awayNow we look back upon that sceneI n humbleness we pray .
T here knelt the trembling man of age,The l ittl e girl and boy !I t was a sight to gladden hearts ,A nd filled our souls with !oy .
Soft hymns were sung and praye r wasbreathed ,
A nd all renewed their vows .’
Twas good to go, all kneel ing there ,A l igned in saintly rows .The memories of that fair dayWere grievous to be borne !The heavy cross , the piercing nai ls ,A nd crown of plaited thorn .
I t was a sacred hour indeedFor every one who tries !When thinking of that long agoT ears well might fil l our eye s .A braver heart than H is ne ’er beatUpon this earthly sod .
’
Tis there He shed H is blood for usTo bring us back to God
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
FREEDOM WOKE .
When Freedom woke from slumbering years,
A nd saw her children ’s scalding tears,
She took her trusty musket downA nd drove all tyrants from the townShe saw the slave , poor helpless manA nd to h is rescue quickly ran !She took the bird off mountain heightTO l ead her heroes in the fight .
Her humblest child a flag had madeWith stars and stripes so cunning laid .
She wreathed the stars in field of blueTo l ight the bloody battles through .
T his tali sman lead on beforeThe cruel , horrid cannon
’s roar !Beneath that flag men dared to die,But left it waving in the sky .
The red , the white, the field of blue ,A ll blended with the heaven ’s hue ,
A nd like the rainbow bended thereCheered on the men to do and dare .
The old fl in tlock and blunderbusWere in the fray to make a fuss !This in old days when men were braveA nd watched and fought our land to save .
’
Twas thus strong men showed us the wayThe nation ’s pride unti l this day.
Their work is done , they’re sleeping now,
With wreaths of fame upon each brow .
Go see the monuments that standThroughout the borders of our land ,A nd read the story which they tell ,A nd mark the fields on which they fell .
150 A PILGR IM’
S THOUGHTS.
L I TTLE LA D WITH SOFT BLUE EYES.
Dear little lad with soft blue eyes ,What do you read in starry skies ?
What are the mysteries you read there ?The truth to me wi l l you dec lare ?
You dream of days when you ’re a man ,H OW on the height you mean to stand ,With purpose true
,with heart aflam e
Make for yourse lf a mighty name .
Do dreams as you p lod here below,
A forecast on the future throw ?
D o stars above in heaven’
s b lueE
’
er speak and te l l strange things to you ?
You sit and con your A ,B
, C’
s ,
Strive to te l l l i fe’s mysteries !
Your days and nights pass as a dreamA ll waiting for the coming scene .
I tel l you , lad , you’l l never know
What is in store for you below .
A single day , a single night ,May cast o
’er you a dreadful blight .
A ngels may come with hands laid bare,May guide and guard you with great care !The stars you read in skies so b lueMay be a pathway lit for you .
Dear l ittle lad , with soft blue eyes ,Keep your gaze on the starry skies .T hose stars of l ight
, God l it for you !Be true , my lad ! be true ! be true !
152 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
THE SH IP THA T SA ILED .
’
Twas on a calm, bright, summer day,A gal lant ship once sai led away !The sea was calm
,the sky was b lue
,
A nd fu l l of hope was al l her crew.
The day had sped, at eventideThe swelling waves were hard to ride !A storm was breaking on the deepDeath ’s harvester was there to reap .
A n awful night for men to beA board a ship out on the sea !The sai lor dreamed of distant homeTo which his ship would never come.
Vessel and men and all went downA nd not a shred was ever found !That ship lay deep at M i sery ’s portThe waves rolled on as if in sport.
I n distant homes the cand les burnSti l l waiting for the ship ’s return !They look across the sea in vainT hey’ l l never see their friends again .
A t M i sery ’s port that ship will stayT i l l earth and sea shall pass away !The tragedy will be forgot ,The sai ls and timbers all wil l rot
The great deep sea will hold its own ,I ts mysteries will ne ’er be known !I t ho lds al l secrets of the deepsA nd lulls the sai lor when he sle eps .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 153
LONG IS THE LA NE .
Long is the lane that has no end !Lone is the man that has no friend !Yet a ll must travel in that laneThe O ld and young, the strong, the lame .I t changeth not, but ever onUnti l the trave l er’s weary , worn .
There ’s no return to youth againThere ’s no “repeat” to rack the brain .
When we start out we ’re young and gay,
A nd flowers sweet bloom on the way !But by and by our limbs wi ll ache
,
Our highest hopes begin to break .
We fo l low on , but not so fast,’
M id fall ing leaves and withered grass !The summer ’s past— ere we can knowWe tread a pathway through the snow.
When summer tides are roll ing on
We plod along with j oy of song !But soon the hill s begin to steep ,A nd gritty stones do bruise our feet .Yet hope sti l l travels by our s ideA nd through the nights will sti l l ab ide .
When wearied out, then we would restA nd dream that we have done our best.
The lane seemed long- stretched out and outA s i f we sti ll were young and stout .We did not know where it would end,But somewhere i t must have a bend ,Where al l our friends would disappearL eave each a lonely traveler here .We each must walk some lane aloneWithout assistance tramp the stones .
154 A PILGR IM’
S THOUGHTS.
A MOTHER ’
S CRY.
I n s i lent hours of midnightThe world was al l anodI heard a mother praying
,
H er face turned up to God .
Great tears were gently fall ingDown her wrinkled fac e .She
’
s living with a demon,
A nd so she prays for grace .
Her sobs - and prayers are broken,
A ll i s misery and woe,
H er husband is a drunkard,
She knows not what to do .
Pale children wrapt in slumberUpon their humb le bed
,
They knew the nights of sorrow,
O ft wished that they were dead .
Their beds were hard and scantyNo pillows for their heads .The brewers had their l ivingA nd they the horrid dregs .
A million voices sighingL ike sobs upon the wind !A million children cryingT hroughout this land of sin .
Oh,curse the sti ll a- coi l ing
A round these help less homes !H elp banish all thei r sorrowsA nd stil l the mother ’s moans .
156 A PIT.GRIM’S THOUGHTS.
THE HA ND THA T BUILDS.
There is a hand that bu ilds and bu ilds,
A long our vales and proudest hil ls !Plants the seed and bids them growT i l l mighty trees wave to and fro.
A nd chestnut and the piney treesWave their ta ll p lumes in passing breeze ,A ll builded up from nothingnessI n all the robes of glory dressed .
I t sets the corn in field awave,
L ike serried hosts of marching braves .With magic hand both night and dayI t decks the tre es in dresses gay .
I t mi lks the ground to grow the grain,That each m ay yield its like again .
I t never rests , but builds and bui ldsThe ripened fruits with hands of Skill .
The wheat , the corn , the pear and plumA ll soon the reaping time will come .
When fruits are ripe on al l the hills ,A nd crowd the bins and start the millsWhen al l his fruits are canned and pressedThe weary hands of magic rest .The l eaves wi ll die and strew the groundA nd not a magic builder
’s found .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 157
ISN’
T IT FUNNY .
My ! oh, my ! now ain’t it funny
You and I don ’t get chummy ?You ’re a brick and I ’m the mortarSeems to me we had orter .I t
’
s kind of pleasant— don ’t you see
That you and I should agree ?You ’re j ust as sweet as you can be,A nd what’s the matter with me ?
You ’re good company, so be IYouare truthful ! I
'
can lie,
H i tched together, oh, what a team !Nice as any Buster’s dream .
I love you, dear, I’
m sure I do,
A nd I l ike your daddy too.
Your mother is an angel sure,
I f she don ’t point to the door.
Sure I love your mother’s daughters ,Hope you ’l l give me pleasant quarters ,For I be k ind of s impleton ,A nd need your love to l ean upon .
There’s but one I wish to chummyYou ’re the one ! oh, my honey !You are a brick , I
’
m the mortarThat is why we had orter .
Gently , gently , don’t get angry
Wh i l e broomstick ’s standing handy !I’
ll surrender, oh , yes , I wi ll .I would like to be your B il l .You wi ll have me ? My gracious m e !
How I’
ve longed th is day to see .Now youare mine for better or worseI expect y ou
’l l find me a curse .
158‘
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
TWO TRAVELERS.
Two travelers together wentTheir days upon l i fe ’s highways s pent.A s best they could they p lodded on
,
B etimes in grief,betimes in song.
A t last they came to parting ways“Wh ich way ? ” one to the other says .“I take the way that
’s pleasantestI t seems to be the levelest .”
My friend , it’s yours , just as youwill .
I’
ll take this one and cl imb the hill.”
They bid farewell and parted there,
A s each his choice did thus declare .The on e that took the easy pathPlodded along with many a laugh ,Saying,
“What a fool my brother i sTo choose that rugged road of h is !”
But by and by gloom gathered round ,A s in the valley he was found .
Grim death was there and dimmed his eye ,I n that lone valley doom ed to die .H is way was blocked by pools and rocks .H e stumbled on and got hard knocks .I n agony he prayed for l ight ,A s deeper, darker grew the night .
The other one to il ed up the steeps ,Betimes he laughs , betimes he weeps .With tired l imbs and weary brainsA t last the highest point he gains .A glorious rad iance fil ls the sky .
Blessings in rich profus ion l ie .A heavenly choir rece ives h im there,A nd happ iness h is loved ones share.
160 A P ILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
WHEN NIGHT IS ON .
The shadows creep , the glimmer’s on ,
A nother day its race has run .
Sun ’s slowly sinking in the west,
The feathered tribes are seeking rest .
The air is chi ll,the darkness creeps
Out o’
er the hills,adown the street !
The eyes of day are closed to sleep ,A nd darkness o ’er creation creeps .
The world seems hushed ! I stop to hearI f danger lingers anywhere .The night dews come on j aded feetWake not the sleeper from h is sleep .
For to i l ing men , God blest the night !Shuts out the scenes of earthly strife ,A nd mothe r’s songs are heard again,While slumber hushes every pain .
The n ight is the irs and hope is the irs ,T hey whisper low their evening prayers ,A nd sleep the sleep of innocence .This is the toiler’s recompense.
The doors are shut , the children rest ,A nd sleep on mother nature
’
s breast .But soon the night will pass awayA nd sunshine wake another day .
A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 161
CHA RITY DA NCE .
H eigho ! diddle , diddle dee !Get up a dance for charity !T his is a charity I loveYou get a dance
,and loving hug.
Go hunt the sorrows of all men ,A nd we will surely dance for them .
We ’l l fee the man that works the bow,
A nd shake it down with heel and toe.
The louder calls poor charity,The happier we will surely be .We ’l l hug our partners all the n ightA nd swing in charity ’s delight .We love to mingle in the dance ,
Through charity we have a chance.Hop up and down as round we go ,A t first the heel and then the toe .
Wh ich we love best ,’tis hard to tell
To hush it Up would be as well .So drop it now,
on with the dance !Just anything to get a chance !Oh,charity ! dear charity !
How good that youand I agree .I love youwell , you
’re honey sweet,Youput a tangle in our feet .
We wi l l not plow,we wil l not sow,
We raise our crop with heel and toe .
We know that charity is goodI t helps the hungry fo lks to food .
So hoe it down till morning light,To dance for charity is right .I t proves a lure to many feet,To dance to help the hungry eat .
162 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
MY FIRST LOVE .
O f the old schoolhouse long s ince goneI wish to sing a truthful song .
A fair maid stole my heart awayIn that long ago of yesterday .
To me she was the swetest maidO n whom my eyes were ever laid !But brothe r, he was stricken too,
A nd loved her from her crown to shoe .
Oh, she was fair to look upon ,No wonder that my heart was gone .
A n angel form , long waving hai r,A face supremely sweet and fair .H er clothes were clean and fitted neatBlack sparkling eyes
,she looked so sweet .
Brother and she walked arm in arm .
I saw it all and felt the charm .
My passion I a secret kept,A nd slyly in the night I wept ,Gave brother all the right of way ,
A nd never had a word to say .
But school days soon had to endI never saw dear Jane again .
H er noble look , her sweetest way ,Forever in my memory stay .
She was my first , my ch ildhood love ,I hope we meet in heaven above .O f al l boy loves I ever met ,She sti l l remains the sweetest yet .
She never knew my love was hers ,Yet how her name my memory stirs .My secret love I
’
ve never toldT il l years were past and I was old .
1641
A P ILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
WHA T W ITHOUT THE CH ILDREN.
What a world without the ch ildrenWith their cunning happy ways !How they brighten up our households ,How they lengthen out our days !Full of mischief
,pranks so doubtful
H ere and there and everywhereFighting time without a struggleHow we love them , all so dear .
Eyes as bright as stars a—shin ing,Careless of the ruling style !C lothes a—j umble , never caring!Just to make the angel s smile .
Ever busy hunting mischief,With a conscience void of —guile .
Partly earthly,partly angel
Want them with us all the while .
Bless the children,how I love them,
A nd their hom ely , happy ways !H ope on earth to travel with themTo the end of all my days .Soon sweet maiden , soon to manhood ,A ll these youths and maidens grow .
There ’s no one who’d wish to stop them
We must grin and let them go.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 165
WA KE FROM THY SLEEP.
Wake from thy sleep , oh, man of s in !I f you true happiness would win .
’
T i s God that cal ls thee , come away !H is merc ies free are yours today .
H is love to you is now made known,
Sworn by H imself on H i s great throne.
H e died that you might turn and liveA ll of his love H imself he gives .
Yousee your hopes all waste away,L ike Lot in terror flee away .
A nd see the fires fall from heaven ,The last call to sinners given .
Stay not where sinful pleasures grow,
T rue happiness you ’l l never know.
But make your home with in the fold !You ’l l find it richer far than gold .
R i se , mortal man , come haste away !Far in the paths of sin you ’ve strayed .
God calls to you, he cal ls today ,R ise, mortal man,
’tis time you prayed.
He calls aloud and pleads with you ,To your own self and God be true .E re vengeance falls , oh , come away !Be reconc i led to Christ today .
166 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
THE DOCTOR .
The doctor stands with many a pause,Ta lks learnedly of nature ’s laws !Wi l l count your pulse
,look at your tongue,
When this i s done then you’re undone.
We find out how much he knows isShown by his own diagnosis .Then he will take your temperature ,A nd read it twice to make quite sure.
A nd then al l helpless stil l he standsA nd seems to think and folds his hands .
Which drug wi l l fit the present case ?He makes a guess , and takes a brace.
Then he has done al l he can doMust trust to luck to pull you through .
He can but hope to give youhealth ,Has not the power to give youwealth .
Youtake his p i l ls and gulp h is dope,He charges steep for his grim j oke .You lie for days all racked by pain,Then call the doctor in again .
The same old trick is waded through,H i s every move i s helping you !You grin and bear—a l l things endure !I f youget well
’tis a faith cure.
The doctor, though an honest man ,A ll helpless at your bedside stands,Your faith in him helps youthe most,A nd he is worth all that he costs .
168 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
SOME T IME .
Some time in the dim futureWhen years have ro lled away,When tides and time have ended,There comes a better day.
When toils and pain have ended,T urmoil and war shall cease !The Prince of Peace ascendedBrings us eternal peace .
When all the gall and wormwoodI s sweeten ed by H i s love,The wounds of earth are heal ingI n E den Up above .
With loved ones circl ing round us ,With songs of lofty cheer
,
We ’l l gather up the sweetnessWe mined so much while here .
With palms all green and waving,
A happy, happy throng !Our days go by in pleasure,I n that sweet land of song.
Oh,what a glorious meeting
Waits Us across the way,A l i fe exalted greatlyI n land of end less day .
My soul looks up exaltingA nticipates that day !When we are safe in heavenA ll trial s passed away.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 169
HOW MA NY L ITTLE CHILDREN.
See how many l ittle ch ildrenA ll over this , our land,Now who l ive in homes of darknessE ternally are damned .
T hey bear the marks of crueltyL ive in a fiery he llOh, won
’
t you help to rescue them ?Bless homes in which they dwell .
I t is the wine- cup ’s b itter fruit,
Curse of the homes today .
Oh, come and help us dash it down,Oh, come without delay !’
T is sour grape s the father eats,
The children’s teeth are edged .
Come , help Us take the fruit away,For this our l ives we ’l l pledge .
These putrid bo i ls al l o’
er the landA re breaking out afresh .
T hey’re running sores where people goA nd all their hopes are crushed .
Damned is the deed if we consentT hese traps to set for man ,A nd hedge them in their pathway hereA nd they are caught and damned .
We see the happy homes bereftA ll pleasures fly awayHunger and wounds is the ir behestSince father
’s gone astray.
Dear l ittle hearts are dumb and sore,They do not understand .
I t i s the deacon in the church’T is by his vote they
’re damned.
170 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
COME , KISS ME , LOVE .
Come, kiss me , love ! come kiss m e now!L eave thy Impress Upon my brow
,
For thou hast made my life a !oyThe image of a winged boy .
I see thine eyes ! they’re bright and bold
,
C lear as the light so I am told !The strength within the l ittle handCan slay the m ightiest sons of man .
H is daughters , too, all stand in aweO f the dear, darling littl e boy !A rmed with thy arrows
,l ittle love
,
Thy voice is l ike the turtle dove .
Sti l l al l conquering is thy sway,The mighty at thy feet oft lay !Yet not in cruelty or wrathT hou leadest to a pleasant path .
Thy comm ission’s from above ,
A nd that is why we call thee love .Thou art a conquerer known to fame,A nd feel the .magic of thy name
Fair maiden ’s cheeks have flashed a flameA t the mention of thy dear name ,A nd fled away to secret prayer ,To brighten eyes and smooth the ir hair.
172 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
WHEN WAVES A RE BEA T ING.
L end a hand when waves are beatingA ll along the rocky shore !H ear ye not the Wind ’s loud hOwling ?H ear ye not the big waves roar ?
L end a Hand when brother’s struggl ingA gainst the wave still roll ing h igh !L i sten to his call so plaintive
,
L isten to his woeful cry !
L end a hand where fields are wavingReady for the sickle keen !Wake from slumber on to laborD o not l inger in your dream .
L end a hand the needy call ingWhen gaunt hunger p inches sore !Go with bread to feed the hungryT i l l the needy need no more .
H elpful hands extending everTo all weary, struggl ing men !H elpful with your hands forever,With your gifts , your hand and pen .
L end a hand when waves are beating,A ll along the rocky shore !Feed the hungry , clothe the naked,T i l l the needy ask no more .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 173
EDEN ’
S FRUITS HA VE WITHERED .
E den ’s fruits on earth have withered,Human l ives are fil led with pain !Prophets cry , there comes a blessm g ,
When the Christ shall come to reign .
Hasten then , my Lord ! oh , hasten !Lo, we travel long in pain .
Sti l l the sword at E den flashingGive us E den back again !
L ingering long in fields all gory ,H ear we oft the dying groan .
Com e and still the wolves ’ loud howl ings ,Give us back our E den home !
H ear , oh , heaven , the cries of anguish ,Swelling up from all our streets !See ye not the mark of demonsI n the hordes we often m eet ?
H ear a mother’s plaintive plead ingsFor her wayward wandering son !
Wrings her hands in bitter anguish,
Since the cruel work is done .
H eaven pity all the wandering !They have lost dear E den ’s path .
Yet we know poor hearts are heavyA ll in p ity , not in wrath.
174 A“PILGRIM
’
S THOUGHTS.
THE TEETOTA LER ’
S SONG.
I am a teetotaler,A nd such I ’ll always be.A curse is sure to followA fe llow on a spree !H is eyes get red and fieryH e is a furious demon .
When he the bottle sipsA curse grows on h is l ips .
A curse to al l who love h imH is mother and his wife .L eads many weary daysA nd fil ls them fu l l of strife.A heavy load to carry-1A creature full of guil e .I wish the grave had openedTo take him when a child .
A reel ing, staggering drunkardH e
’
s better in hi s grave .Oh, would the fates but teach h imSome little to behave .I wish the bottle brokenMuch more than I can tell ,A nd all the brewer’s fixturesWere burning up in hell .
Then many hearts would gladdenTo know if th i s were so !Their hearts no more would saddenNo more be fill ed with woe.
There ’s sadness in the mans ionWhen bottles Open up !There ’s sadness in the hovelWhere rules the cursed cup .
176 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
OUT IN THE WOODS.
Out in the woods wild nature standsA nd spread s her banners o ’er the lands.There purling streams forever flowTo the rivers far down below.
There the wild bird builds its moss nest,
There cooling shadows call to rest .Voice calls to voice through all the dayA nd gobl ins dance around and play .
There stand the tal l and gallant trees,
There hum the droning busy bees !A nd whi spering leave s stirred by the windsBreathe forth the sound of nature hymns .
The gaunt rocks lay so silent thereThe winds and rains have swept them bare.
Their very silence you may hearWhen shadowy even ing draweth near.
’
T is nature ’s home , so grand ! so grand !Where the tal l trees around us stand !L ike plumes the oak lift arms and waveA s grim old warriors, stout and brave .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 177
FA REWELL MAY !
Farewell May ! but not forever.Short the days we ’ve been together.We will not this year meet againI n this world of loss and pain .
You ’ve been gentle altogether,
Now you ’re gone I know not wh ither .Yet you were not gray nor old
Just a spring month , I’
ve been told .
Youhave seen the dandelion ,You have seen wild duck flying,A nd you have heard . the turtle doveCall ing to his mate in love .
Youhave heard the tadpole singing,You ’ve heard loud voices ringingFrom out the pond , and from the treeYouhave heard sweet melody.
Youhave made young eyes more shin ing,Youhave started vines to climbing,But now your work on earth is done !’
T is time another month begun .
Youhave seen the green buds swell ingA ll around your humbl e dwell ing,A nd youhave kissed the frost away ,So June comes stepp ing in today .
178 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
OH , YEARS.
Oh, years ! oh, years ! the dear old years !I love ye with your laughs and tears .I l inger o’
er each fleeting dayA nd dream again the hours away .
L ike sunshine on the fields of !oy ,
The blessed days when but a boy ,
With boyish whims and boyish hopeWhen life seemed one great j olly j oke .
Then rainbows gemmed the sk ies above ,Then all the days were days of love !The days seemed long, the sun moved slow,
A nd everything was on the go.
Some things were queer and strange to meThe b looming rose and stately tree !Their wonders I could not make outPlanned by the Gods , without a doubt.
When but a chi ld , a l ittle child ,The Gods looked down on m e and sm iled.
There is a God, I know ! I know !Who makes the corn and wheat to grow .
My youth is gone , yet I can dreamO
’
er all the dear fami l iar scene ,A nd be a ch i ld for one sweet hour,While lolling in sweet dreamland ’s bower.
A PfLGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
COMMUNE W ITH A NGELS.
Oh, I have walked with angels ,They ’ve led me by the hand
,
They ’ve kissed my lip so lovingA ccording to command .
Oh,I have supped with angels
On more than manna fed .
The o i l of !oy was brokenA nd poured Upon my head .
Oh,I have talked with angels
Communion all so sweetA ll heaven lay around us ,A carpet to our feet .Oh,
I have slept with angelsI n dreaming pleasant dreams ,The heavens shone above usI n bright and glorious beams .
Oh, I have wept with angelsOver the tombs of love !On p inions hovered o
’
er m e,
I n visits from above .Oh, I have laughed with angels ,The tomb all empty layThe myrrh was al l forgotten ,For love had stol
’n away .
I had a feast with angel sA nd feed with swine no more.
My Father b id m e welcomeB id me depart no more.
On angel’s food I ’m feasting,
A nd sti l l I s igh for m ore.
My soul with hunger hastethTo feast sti ll
‘more and more.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 181
LAUGHTER .
The rippling laugh of l ittle babeJust thri lls us through and through .
We feel it from the crown of head ,Down to the wiggling toe.
See here, my boy , laugh loud and long !I t is good medicine .
A nd if youcannot raise the laughSpread out your face and grin .
Laugh , the echo of a good heartW ith sweetness running o
’
er !Purling stream for th irsty onesA ripple on the shore .We hear a laugh , our troubles flee !
The face begins to sh ineA nd ere we know what we ’re aboutWe ’re fal l ing into l ine .
Mal ice or hate can ’t stand a laugh,A laugh is far too strong !
NO place for hate or mal ice darkWhere rings the laugh of song.
Then let the merry laugh go on
L ike sunshine and the rain !I t l i fts the soul to heights sublime ,
I t soothes both grief and pain .
How can a man with a long faceStand by the laughing man ?
H e has to bow with stiffened grace,A nd grin the best he can .
I t drives the meanness out of h im ,
Makes him a better man .
T hen laugh , my boy , make others laugh ,Raise all the laugh youcan.
182 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
OH , PRESS ME NOT !
Oh, press me not my hopes to tellWhi le wandering here below .
I am so blind I cannot tellWhat mercy wil l bestow.
I know I am beneath God ’s care,A nd in H is mercy I will dareTo face the coming storm .
Oh, ask me not i f skies are clearBedecked wi th shining stars .One thing I know— H is voice I hearH e calls me from afar.H ope sti ll i s mine
,the blessed hope
Which steers the world along.
Though I betimes in darkness gropeH e hears my prayer and song.
I t matters not if days go byA nd tired feet get sore
,
For I shal l rest me by and byOn l i fe ’s eternal shore .The clouds that sai l the summer skyWill carry me some day
,
O r H e will give me wings to flyFrom this dull l i fe away.
My soul shall know the love that wa itsWhen I a conquerer stand !When mercy opens up the gatesI nto Emanue l ’s land .
Methinks I hear ‘
the shouts that ringO f martyrs gathered there !Jo ined by the angels as they s ingI n all those mansions there.
184 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
W INGS OF FL IGHT .
On wings of love my soul shall soar,
Far up the rugged steep ,A nd I shal l li st the angels ’ song !
My eyes forget to weep .
The clouds that race the stormy skiesShal l speed my Upward way,
A nd I’
ll go up with I srael’s tribes
To greet eternal day .
I hope my name is writ with theirs,I n God
’s own book above !There I shall range the promised land
Sai l rivers of H is love .
The winter storms may beat awh i le ,The summer suns may burn ,
But our God has sworn in loveThat I srael shall return .
Oh, blessed days ! those com ing daysO f I srael ’s coming home ,
TO rest in God’s eternal love
A nd never, never roam.
Com e , tune your harps and timbrels too,
A nd make the h il ls to ring !A nd thrill the shining stars above ,
A nd songs of victory s ing.
A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 185
JULY WEA THER .
July is in a melting moodThe me rcury ’s climbing higher.
I really fear that I shal l melt,L ike butter in the fire .
The sun is hot and hotter gets,While scarce a breeze is blowing !
I wish I were in other landsWhere coole r winds were going.
The world is al l a- sizzle here,
With not a wave of cooling !I’
m sure i f I was on the !obI’
d make it quit its fool ing.
The frogs are croak ing loud for rain ,
The tadpoles limp and dying !There is a bitter, sad refrain
My very bones are frying.
Oh, send us rain ! The fishes gasp !The water ’s hot and hotter !
For, woe is me , I cannot liveI n this hot
,scalding water.
The very leaves are crinkl ing up ,A ll for the want of mo isture,
A nd shorter, shorter is the grassOut in the blaz ing pasture.
The farmer looks along the rowsH is corn is turning yellow
A las ! his to i l is all in vain ,I p ity the old fel low.
186 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
BA CK TO CH I LDHOOD .
Back to Childhood’s blessed days,
‘
Back to my mother’s knee !What a p leasure they ever hold
,
HOW sweet their memory !Back to the days of childhood !Back to the days of yore !Back to the hil ls and the valleysGladly I bast ’uonce more .
The sweet days of over yonder,When Skies were ever blue ,Way back to the days of wonderWhen friends were ever true .
Then father was my king aloneYea , more than king to me ,No nobler king had ever ruled,No kinder king could be .
Dear mother was my queenly queen,She loved so tenderly .
Oh ! how I loved my wildwood hom eWhen nestled on her knee !
Back to the ‘dear old days of yoreSO gladly I would flee ,A nd dream the dear old dreams oncemore
With hallowed memory .
O ld friends asleep , they wake no moreTo fil l my days with j oy !Some linger on to bless my soulA s when a littl e boy .
O ld scenes arise in dark’
n ing nightA nd people my old home !I t never wanders from my sight,No odds where I may roam.
188 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
WOULD YOU BLOOM ?
Say , would youbloom as roses ?T hen do as roses do
Leave off the thorns that prickle,A nd im itate the ir hue .
A thousand petals closingA ll kist by heaven ’s dew,
A t morn the ir charms unfolding,New beauties come to view.
They bow the ir heads in meekness ,Perfuming all the air !
G0 sample all the sweetnessFor youand all
’tis fair.
They’re just as God has made themNo other l ife they know.
They’re sweet and very
‘
soulful ,A nd pure as whitest snow.
They bloom a l ife of sweetnessA pleasure to the eye
A nd when the ir season ’s over,They bow their heads and d ie .
They never talk nor tattle ,But l ive Upon the square .
Just sti l l your tongue ’s gl ib rattleA nd strive to be as fair.
I f youwould be like roses,Then do as roses do
Leave Off the thorns that prickleA nd strive to l ive as true.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 189
INSOMNI A .
How oft, am id the s i l ent night,When gentle slumbers steal away ,
We weary turn and pray for l ightIn languor on our p i l low lay .
We strive to coax the God of sleepTo lul laby our cares away !
We listen to the crickets peep ,A nd sigh for dawn ing of the day .
Our dreams grow weird and woeful too,
We toss our bod ies to and fro.
We pray the Gods of slumberland ,A nd not a peaceful moment know.
We l ist the sighing winds without,The sti llness of the house we feel.
The very silence seems to shout,A nd troubled senses seem to reel .
We long and sigh for sun to riseA nd call us from the sleepy couch.
In va in we open dreamy eyes ,In va in we try to sti l l our grouch .
O ld memories a- j umble comeI t is no use the sheet to rip !
We feel our task a heavy one
I nsomnia has Us in h is grip .
190 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
GO HUNT THE WORLD .
Go hunt the world , ye sp irits bold,
The secrets of its m iseries tell !A nd l i ft the vial its horrors hold ,A nd help quench the fires of hell .
Come , tel l us why th is world’s a wreck
,
L ike broken sh ips out on the sea !Why m isery , that helli sh petWill sti l l torment both youand me !
Go to the homes of sord id careA nd open the door Of m isery !The ragged , hungry dy ing thereTo all who open the ir eyes to see .
Go where the sol id stones are p i led ,A nd chains embrace poor fellowman ,So l ike a lion in his cageA nd stil l their m isery if youcan .
Tel l Us who sowed the dragon ’s teethWhere they could wound the helpless child !Who gave to them that haggard look ?Who was it that the ir homes defiled ?
Was it the brewer’s bo i l ing st il l ?’
Twas rum that l it those hell ish fires ,A nd snatched the bread from childish l ips ,To kindle death ’s and hell ’s desires .
Go tel l the world their hell ish crimes ,Which fil l the measure of their greed,A nd bid us hope for better times ,Oh, haSte and help each ch i ld in need.
192 A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
FRIENDSH I P.
There are sweet friendsh ips wh ich I hold ,I would not lose for all the goldThat was ever dug from richest mine !I clasp and hold them ever m ine .
There are dear friends who“
cross my pathThat often make my soul to laugh !I laugh for very j oy to seeHow dear old fri ends can really be .
The farewell word ,’tis hard to say ,
I love them now, I love alwayL iving or dead their love is m ineBright as the stars that ev er sh ine .
They light the hi ll s and valleys here,Where li fe grows b itter, cold and sear .I dri ft along through !oy and griefTheir memories oft bring relief.
Such friendsh ips hold , they never fail ,They ’re mine along l ife ’s weary trail .The brightest stars at evening glow,
The darkest hours their brightness Show.
GO , hug your gold and rub ies fair !I wish not now such wealth to share.
Give me thei r love to ever hold’
Tis sweeter far than all the gold .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 193
THE SEA .
By the deep sea I’
ll make my homeWhere I can hear its ceaseless moan ,A nd watch the waves as one by one
They splash and roar around my home .
There I wil l sit when days are brightA nd ga! e and wonder at the sight .When day is done and night is onBe lulled to sleep by its we ird song.
I t s ings its songs to every ageI t
’
s stretched along on h istory’
s page.How many ships , oh, restl ess sea ,Have gone where we wi ll never see ?
The men are gone, the ships are gone ,Yet sti ll thy waves go roll ing on .
O ft none is left to tell the tal eWe can but listen to the wai l .
Oh,wondrous sea ! oh, m ighty sea !
What mysteries are h id in thee !Naught but the trump of Judgment DayCan drag thy secrets all away .
194 A PILGRIM ’
S THOUGHTS.
A PI LGR IM HERE.
A pilgrim here , with staff in handI look across the stormy sea .
A nd wonder i f that distant landWill ever be a home for me .
H ere storms beat Upon my head ,I need a word of lofty cheer !T here comes to me on roll ing wavesThose gentle words I love to hear .
“Lo,
I am with you to the end ,Through all your fiery struggles he re ,I’
m constant,and I ’ll be your friend
I n all your troubles I ’ll be near .”
Oh, pilgrim ,heed the songs that ring
A nd swe l l along thy upward way ,A nd oft you ’l l hear the angels s ingA song to cheer thee on thy way
196 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
THE DREAMS OF L IFE .
The dreams of l ife, how sweet they are !
They wake fond memories .L ike winds that li ft the rolling wavesOut on the great wide seas .
O ld friends long lost stand in array,
Fill Up the dreams of night !We bid them hai l with glad ahoy l
”
E re dawns the morning l ight .
The l ights and loves of other daysThat we no longer seeHow oft they come in troops to usOh, l et them come to me !
O ld treasures thus we hold againSO bonny and so real !We close our eyes to dream againThe blessed thri ll to feel .
Come , dreamy night, awake the dead,A nd l et me clasp their hands !Oh, bid them wake and come to m e
From out the mystic lands .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 197
WOMAN’
SWEAPON .
Poor m an must weep while women sweepThe broom is their defence !A nd man must buy the weapon too,
A ll at his own expense .
He th inks he ’s lord of all in viewHow quick he meets h is doom !When woman busy with her caresGoes for him with the broom .
Look out, my boy, the fur will fly,When broom goes wh isking round .
A l ittle woman with a broomMay weigh a thousand pound .
’
T is meet, my man, that now and thenYOU meet your Waterloo !You ’d th ink of Samson with that boneWhen he so many slew .
The vast conce it that swells your headYou ’l l lay aside awhile ,A nd youwi l l curse the day of broomsWhi l e the old bachelors sm i le .
I n th is old world th ings even upSome warriors b ite the grass .Yousleep and dream of other daysA nd sigh— alas ! alas !
Give way to women with the broomMust fight, or run , or bust,I f she can ’t raise a bump on youShe’l l surely raise a dust.
198 A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
BIG I .
I hug myself ! Oh, my ! oh,my !
There ’s none in town so big as I .
A nd every day I bigger grow,
I wish youall to see and know.
I’
m nothing small— a great big U ,
Just look and see if this ’s not true .The l ittle i ’s I never seeBecause they
’
re not as big as me .
I’
m natural ! I’
m not a swel l !Th is is the honest truth I tel l .I’
m big j ust like the towering oak,A nd on this theme I never j oke .
I stand first, there’s none excel
I n all the land here where I dwell .I’
m five foot six , and on the rise,Soon I will comb the tow
’
ring skies .
Just to find room for me to growThe starry skies were built too low.
I f I shou ld stretch I ’d bump the stars ,A nd knock the stuffing out of Mars .
So j ust stand off and give me room,
A nd see me push as ide the moon .
The earth and sk ies are far too smallT 0 stand before a man so tall .
Je rusalem ! how big I be !Could hardly swim in all the sea .
I’
d kick the waters all ashore,A nd then the sea would be no more.
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
A BOY WITH BREECHES.
A l ittle boy upon the streetWould measure up about two feet !But he had little breeches onA nd all his babyhood was gone .H is l ittle feet went pit-a-patWore on his head his father’s hat.I n innocence he looked aroundThe very b iggest man in town .
I t was just laughable to see
How b ig a little boy could be !H e ducked his head and blinked his eyesFor fear his head would bump the skies,Rem ind ing me of long ago
When I put on my togs of tow,
A ll checkered Up and checkered down ,Yes, checkered all the way around .
The petticoats were gone from me,A nd I felt big as I could be .My father came , as fathers can ,A nd said I was a little man .
He laughed and shock from head to toeBecause his boy had altered so.
A nd then I felt so m ighty big,A rranged in that gorgeous rig.
I t seems that day I can ’t forget,I t l ingers in my memory yet.My biggest triumph , my best day,Though now my head is streaked with gray.
Then I was man—I wore the signI t was that toggery of mineThat l ifted me to manhood ’s day.
God bless the breeches , stil l I pray .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 201
MY STEED OF STEEL .
A way ! away ! my gentle steed,
A t lightest touch he gives more speed.
A nd on he goes both heel and toeSwift as the winds that round us blow.
For every wheel is stout and strong,A s swift we stil l go roll ing on .
H is shield a-glitter in the sunOh, it i s !oy to see him run .
The way is smooth, the dust i s dry !See how he makes the latter fly !My wind- sh ield stands so trembl ingly,Protects my eyes and company .
We hear low lullabies of song,A s we go rapidly along.
The hil ls far off l ike billows riseSeem l ike the d istant, cloudy skies .
How swift the steed we ride today !H e i s so sleek, so grand and gay.
He tramps the h il ls beneath his feet,I n spite of all the dust and heat .L ike aeroplane he swiftly fl iesTo pass the birds he nobly tries .A down the vale and Up the steepWe hear no clatter of his feet .
I hold the bridle in my handsA nd every touch he understands .
My steely steed I now must nameH is strength is gasolin e and flam e
H is l imbs are made of steel and brass.
!Ve ’ve found the iron horse at last.H e leaps the h i ll s and speeds away,The auto’s the best horse today.
202 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
MY HA PPINESS IS ENDED.
My happiness is endedA nd I am left in grief.
My confidence was splendid ,But it was all so brief.
My mind is al l a—tangleO f doubts and bitter fears .
We had a cruel wrangleI left her shedding tears .
My days are fi l led with sorrow,
My dreams unpleasant too !I dread the coming morrow,
My heart i s in a stewI sit here heavy-hearted,
A las ! the fall ing tears !I n b itterness we parted,
But for how many years !
I am so sad and lonely !Her image will arise .
She was as good and comelyA s angels in the skies .
Why should I l ive in sorrow ?My days are going by.
I’
ll seek her out tomorrowA t l east I ’m going to try.
204 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
I’
M BL IND .
I’
m bl ind , I’
m bl ind , and winter’s here.
I cannot see “the flowers bloom ,
But feel the ch i l l of winter’s blare. !
The summ er ch i ld has sought its tomb .
Oh, for the magic gift and powerTo l i ft that child to l ife again,To l ive if but a single hour,A nd deck with bloom th is stricken plain .
I stand abreast of winds that freeze,A chil l that crinkles all the streams .I see the bare and leafless trees ,A nd feel that summer’s but a dream .
I look and look, sti l l b l ind I be !No ch i ld of summer
’s on the h i l ls ,But ghostly forms stand mocking me,A nd cruel winter grinds h is chil ls .
Pale fingers cold sti l l clutch my hands ,A nd l ead me on my blinded way !A nd I oft dream of other landsWhere summer’s child stil l holds h is sway
Shall I e’er see the summer’s sunA nd see the flowers bloom again ?
Oh,wi l l that child some morning come
A nd plant sweet flowers on the plain ?
W i l l I rec e ive my s ight to seeThe beauties of those summer days ?Oh, it would be a !oy to m e
To hear the rob ins’
roundalays .
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 205
OLD OCTOBER .
O ld O ctober ! Chil l O ctober !You have nipped the bright red clover,A nd turned the world all upside down
,
Played havoc in country and town .
O ld O ctober ! Ch i l l O ctober !Youare tumbling beauties over.Youch i l l the pans ies where they grew,
Youhave made us all feel blue.
Won ’t youstop awh i l e and l isten ?See, your hoary locks al l glisten !A ll the vines are hanging down,Since youstraggled into town .
L eaves are fall ing, sadly dying,
I n despair around us flying.
Stay O ctober ! stay thy hand !Steal not the beauties of our land .
I n the night we hear the blowing,I n the night we hear the groan ing,A nd when we wake your work 15 doneSee al l the p inks and pans ies gone.
O’
er the green fields , far up the h il lThy hand of death is on us sti l l .A ll wane and dying l ies the leaf,A nd all lament a life so brief.
’
T is writ on nature, all must fall.O ctober gives the first sad call .On frosty wings she comes fly ingA ll our treasures fading, dying.
206 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
WH ISPERINGS IN THE A IR.
There is a whisper in the air,
Over the hil ls and lea !I t is the voice of winter’s ch i l lComes wh ispering to me .
The summer days are dy ing now,
The l eaves begin to fade,For, 10 ! the frost i s out at nightUpon its deadly raid .
I t blacks the flowers where they grow,
They die within its grasp !A ll l imp and lame it leaves the vinesWherever it may pass .
I t chases the robins from our homes ,The blue j ay and the lark ,A nd tears the leaf from off the treesL eaves noth ing but the bark .
The winds entangl e all the ir l imbsThey seem to wail
Land cry,
A nd sh iver in the chill s that passBeneath the stormy sky .
Now al l the dreamy summer’s gone,
The call of death is here !A nd all the days seem hung in gloomDead leaves are everywhere.
208 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
WHA T A WONDER IS A BA BY.
What a wonder is a baby,
With the m isch ief in his eye,Where stays the merry twinkle
,
A nd all the blue of sky !
What a wonder is a baby,With the roses on his cheek !L ittl e tot, he
’s ever grasp ingA t the wh iskers on your cheek .
Don ’t youwish youhad a baby ,W ith his cackle and h is crow ?Don’t you sigh for j ust a baby ?Yes, you surely do, I know .
Full of fun and ful l of frol ic ,Laugh ing all your cares away .
I t would make your life so happy !I t would be the l ight of day !
L ittle fel low, al l so helpless ,Softly sle ep ing on my knee !L ike an angel out of heaven ,You have slipt and come to me .
L ittle baby ! hall or mans ionGlorifies it n ight and day.
What a wonder is our baby !Hope it wi ll not run away .
A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 209
MY SUMMER DAYS.
My summer days are almost goneMy j ourney here wil l not be long !But I will neithe r fret nor p ineFor all the future still is mine .
The past is past ! I’
ve had my day,
A nd it has been both glad and gayfI’
ve seen the best of things on earth ,I’
ve had my sorrow and my mirth .
The years have gone in ceaseless flow !I’
ve had to stand and see them go .
They ’l l never more again be mineI never more wi l l see my prime .
I’
ve heard the thunders shake the sky,I’
ve seen great storms as they past by,I’
ve seen the winter’s snow pile deep ,I’
ve seen the grandeur of the steep .
I’
ve seen the prairies stretch away,Out whe re the wild beast spends h is day .
I’
ve rode the ocean wi ld and free ,I’
ve gazed Upon the m ighty sea .
For m ine has been a goodly land ,O ne which a Master M ind has planned .
My day is long as days may be,Glad are m ine eye s for all I see.
A nd I have l ived on E asy street !Had clothes to wear and food to eat.Soon time for me wi l l cease to roll !May God have mercy on my soul !
2 10 A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
DR IFT WE LONG.
Drift we long on ocean’s swell ing,
Be our passage foul or fair,’
M id the dashing of i ts watersSti l l we have a Father’s care .
I f the nights be dark and stormyO n the bosom of the deep ,
There ’s an eye that never s leepethThat wi l l all our watches keep .
Let the winds their furies waken ,A nd the stars refuse to sh ine ,
We can pray amid the tempestFather, hold this hand of m ine.
L end a hand , a harbor’s waiting
Our good ship is built for storms .
Night is passing, day is breaking,We can smile at dread alarms .
There’s a peaceful harbor waitingR ight beside a gentle sea,
A nd our friends are pass ing over !A nchored there they wait for m e.
CHORUS.
Halleluj ah ! In the morningWhen the troubled seas are gone,
When at port we drop the anchor,A t the dawning of the mom .
2 12 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
OLD LEDGER .
My ledger here I con todayA nd mark the bums that never pay .
There’
s many men I trusted inBut now I get the old bums ’ grin .
The charge is plain and very brief’
Longside of them I’
ll take the thief.The thief may steal , there
’s no defenceH e does not steal my confidence
.
My nature’s to accomm odate
But how I hate a reprobate,
Who says “Tomorrow I will pay .
But this ledger ne ’er sees the day .
My books are blotted now all o’
er,
A nd these accounts are j ust a bore,They lie and lie
,are liars sti l l
They prom ise fair—wi l l not fulfill .
How mean and low each shriveled soul !Better be a poor blind mole ,A nd shrink away and hide one ’s head
,
Than thus to steal their daily bread .
The scorn of all will follow themUntil they learn to grow up men .
How mean they are to take such tollsMay God have mercy on the ir souls !
A bum ’s a bum ! wi l l ever be !A thief a th ief no worse than he !Bums buy to cheat , they cheat to buy.
The th ief takes his without a l ie .The bum must l ive a cruel l i e,Too mean to l ive , afraid to die .Few be the tears to wet h is grave.Let it be writ,
“H ere sleeps a knave !
A PI LGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 213
I LAUGH .
I laugh and laugh for very !oy,For l ife is full of bliss!Laugh thri lls my heart as when a boyI he ld my mother’s kiss .I laugh because my heart is gay
,
A s maiden sings of love .I throw my cares out to the w indsA nd she’s my turtledove .
I laugh to see my own succeedA nd all my neighbors too !I laugh because the skies are brightA nd all the heavens blue .I laugh to grasp your hand in m ineA nd greet you once again ,I laugh along life
’s rugged wayI t
’
s cool ing to my brain .
I love to hear the merry laughCome rippling soft and sweet .Oh, it is part of this l i fe to meA nd makes this earth more sweet.So give your laughs and sunny smi l esTo those you chance to meet .I t wakes you Up to greet your friends,Oh, laugh ing can
’t be beat !
2 14 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
A HUNDRED YEA RS FROM NOW.
A hundred years from nowWhere shall I be ?
A sleep beneath the sod,O r rolling in the sea ?
Mystery hangs over allA nd storms beat on .
Such things’
ll not bother m e
When I am gone .
A hundred years from nowI’
ll be forgot .No one will ca l l my name
A nd I wi l l answer not.
My image like the leavesShal l fade away ,
A nd all on earth forgetMy feeble day .
2 16 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
BROKEN FR I ENDSH I P.
You were my friend , my loving friend,But have become enstranged !I cannot tell the reason why
,
But oft I wish ’twas changed .
O nce you could look on me and smi l eI called you then my boy !But now your looks are cold and sternL eave not a ray of j oy .
Give me the secret of those looks,T ell me where I Offend ,A nd I will plead my case with youA nd claim you still a friend .
Come , dear one , tel l me what is wrongGive me your confidence !Sure I wi l l make confession true ,
A nd pay full recompense .
Come , gentle heart , and smile again ,’
T is manna to my soul !Why should we dwell next door to hellWhile heavens round us roll ?
A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS. 2 17
I WENT TO THE H I LLS.
I went to the hills , far out of town,To gaze on the fields al l scattered round
,
Where val leys roll and streams run byA nd God ’s own trees are towering high .
I saw where farmers grow thei r wheatI n valleys low, far up the steep .
They sow in faith that it wi ll growThrough summer ’s heat or winter’s snow.
The farmer knew the blessed rainWould give it all back to him again .
A ll wearied out he falls to s leepA nd dreams again of the golden Wheat .
H e waits a day and an hourI n vision sawthe pure white flourA ll hidden there in its husky shellWhen the milky grain began to swell .
H e dreamed of harvest wh ich he should reap ,The go lden store of the golden sheaf.H is heart grew glad as he counted o’
er
The sheaves that held h is golden store.
Back of the wheat lay the fruitful field,A nd back of the fields lay the yearly y ield,Back of the yield the sun in its power,A nd back of the sun the precious shower.
Back of the shower a hand unseenProvided all in its l iving green .
Back of it all a God of powerA ll work together to make the flour.
2 18 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
GIVE ME .
Give m e a l eague of sunshineTo float upon the stream !Give me a mile of moonbeamsTo shine all through my dream.
Give me the mountains risingFar Up toward the sky !Give me the valleys lowlyTo make the stars look high.
Give me a maiden lovely,O f this my native land !Give me the j oy of richesTo gain the maiden
’s hand .
Give me of fri ends a thousand ,A nd sm i les upon their lips !Give me the hand of friendsh ipA hand that n ever sl ips .
Give me the gift of lovingThat loving I may be ,To hold each heart in friendshipA nd l ive so lov ingly.
Give me dear friends , so loyalTo stand forever trueStand while the earth endurethStand wh ile the sk ies are blue.
220 A PILGRIM’
S THOUGHTS.
DECL INING D AY.
The day was fast decl in ing.
The harbinger of nightThe hills al l tipped in glory
,
With halos of the light .The valleys were all creep ingI nto the shadows dim !They vanish like a visionWhen darkness rushes in .
I heard the call of birdlings ,A ll helpless in their nest !The mother b ird a-flutterThen drew them to her breast.There is a calm in natureThe human soul can feel !The shadows on the tree topsA ll seemeth so unreal .
The katydid was singingH er evening serenade,The cricket j oined the chorusWith tune of different grade,Keeps up the hum of musicO f nature
’s holy hymns !While darkness softly creep ingA m ong the tangled limbs .
There is a wh irl of mus icWherever we might go !We hear it in the thundersA nd in the winds that b low !I t ringeth o
’
er the watersO f al l the mighty seas !A nd vibrates on the oceanThe same old melodies .