The Poetic Journey of James E. Moore

 

 

This long-hidden, one-man project seemed worth bringing to light.  It was discovered while sorting through the personal effects of our parents in late August, 2000, the day after our father had passed away.  In more than 20 years of living in the same home with them, neither I nor my brothers had ever seen the old army green canvas covered field book that contained these original works.  We found it in an old foot locker tucked in the back of Dads closet, with a few ancient photos from Moms family tucked inside.  Those pictures depicted people we had heard mentioned, but had never met.

 

The author of these verses was our great-grandfather, James E. Moore.  The initial poems suggest that James began this work within days of the death of his wife in 1920.  He dedicated the third poem to Nellie, my 4 year old granddaughter.  Nellie was our mother (1916-1996).  The final poem on the bound pages of this book was written to commemorate the first reunion of his mothers family in 1925.  James E. Moore passed away on November 21, 1927, at age 76.  Now at age 92, Mothers older sister, our Aunt Betty, still remembers her grandfather diligently working on this very project (he was always writing in that book) when she was a teenager.

 

From here onward, the book is reproduced from its original longhand, written in fountain pen, including some of his original misspellings and occasional bouts of dyslexia.  There are only a few spots in the original manuscript where the ink was painstakingly erased, and fewer still where a word was written over in correction.  Loose papers within the book suggest that he copied from his rough drafts.

 

Is this a volume of exceptional poetry, worthy of international acclaim?  Probably not, but you decide.  It is a documentary of one mans journey through the process of mourning and reassessment of his life.  He descends into deep despair, but emerges by mid-book and finishes at quite a different place by the end of the book, some five years later.  One thing this work clearly does show us is how much life has changed in the United States in the last 100 years.

 

Great-grandfather James finished his book with a comprehensive table of its contents, which he had clearly anticipated adding from the very beginning.

Page   Index

 

40        Absent

16        Blind Child   The

22        Bereft

43        Broken Promise   The

92        Barbecue ball   The

15        City vs. Country

23        Contentment

48        Choice   The

54        Change of hour   The

56        Cheerie

74        Childhood days

83        Colleens choice

88        Cupid

91        Carpet Whipper   The

36        Decades   The

47        Dew of Hermon

66        Dreams

76        Dews

68        Eden of the heart

18        Frost and the flowers

49        Frozen tear drop

51        Fifty years

24        Gems of thought

32        Going

34        Grandmas pinks

75        Good thoughts

28        Garden of Love   The

64        Good Judge   The

70        Graces   The

79        Greenwood

  5        Introduction

21        Idle thoughts

37        Love

57        Longing

58        Lines on a wedding anniversary

59        Land o my dreams

84        Life of a Riley   The

11        Mothers Album Quilt

38        Mammon

45        Midnights dream

77        Mother is there a

85        Marys lamb

87        Meg

89        My Papa

96        Mithers tryst

82        Neglected

20        Ode to a snail

51        Old Rocking chair   The

58        Old fashioned

94        Old Friends

97        Old man in a churchyard

  4        Preface

12        Polly green

33        Prints   The

61        Praying

67        Prospect Park Ice

80        Pictures on the wall

69        Questionings

14        Reflections

63        Remedies

27        Seperation

44        Spiritism

47        Sunset   A

52        Spirit of Love   The

90        Spoons

30        Tears

42        Tender Memories

53        Tilte guessers

60        Three Friends

78        Times Ending

86        To a Fly

22        To a Friend

  8        To my daughter, Grace

11        To Mother

10        Unknown

50        Unrest

  6        Vision   The

46        Virtuous woman

19        Whims of the moon

41        Weary

62        Winter

73        Whisperings

98        Miller reunion

 

loose sheets JEM did not catalog in his Table of Contents

 

By Express

Epigram

[If?]

Heart Throbbings

Lexington

Streets of Life

Tears (rough draft)

[Untitled]

 

 

 

 

1827-1917

 

On Election Day, Nov 6^th, Mr. And Mrs. James E. Moore, Vosenkill Road, entertained their children and grandchildren in honor of the ninetieth birthday of the hosts father, John Moore, who was as bright and active as any of his great-grandchildren, being truly merely ninety years young.  He received over fifty birthday cards, a goodly number from the mountain towns, where he was born and lived for seventy-five years, and was and is known to all as Uncle John.  After the fourteen persons present had partaken of the bountiful dinner, including the birthday cake cut by the hero of the hour, the son and grandson felt it their duty to go and vote, so Mr. Moore went to the barn and fed the chickens and made other preparations for the night.  He is surely remarkable for a man of his years, and his friends, young and old, wish him many more such days as this.

 

 

Obituary        April 19, 1918

 

Moore John Moore, aged over ninety years, after failing in health for a short time, passed away on April 19^th at the home of his son James, inAthens township, where he had resided for fifteen years and where the Rev. J.H. Heinrichs of the Leeds Reformed Church conducted the funeral on Sunday, with interment the next day at Lexington.

 

The deceased was born in Lexington to Elijah and Martha Johnson Moore, being the youngest of many children and said to be the last called home.  He was a carpenter by trade, a man of rugged constitution and honest, upright character, leading a retired life full of kindnesses.  He was active till a few months before his death, and his great wish was to wait until the deep snow should be gone, so that those who were to take him to his last resting place might find their task easy.  Respected and loved by all, he died as quietly as he lived, going on with the expectation of meeting those who had preceeded him, and leaving a host of friends but no enemies.

 

Seventy-five years of his long life were spent near Lexington.  Some sixty-eight years ago he married Candace Bailey and two sons were born to them - James and Horace, the latter going thirty-eight years ago to California.  He was heard from for a short time, but not since then and is supposed to be dead, but the uncertainty was one of his fathers greatest sorrows.  Besides his son James, Mr. Moore is survived by four grandchildren (Mrs. Willis Brandow of Athens, Charles and Berdella Moore of Athens township, and Horace Moore of Philadelphia), also four great-grandchildren and several other relatives.

 

June 24^th, 1920    The Catskill Daily Mail (?)

 

A Good Womans Death

 

Emma Elizabeth, wife of James E. Moore, died on June 24^th at her home on the Vosenkill Road, town of Athens, where on Sunday the funeral was conducted by the Rev. J.H. Heinrichs of Leeds, with interment in the Jefferson Rural Cemetary.

 

Mrs. Moore was born on Oct 1, 1849 in the town of Halcott, to Peter and Hannah Miller, being the youngest but one of nine children.  Her early life was spent mostly in Lexington, where on Feb 5, 1873, she married James E. Moore, and with him resided in or near Lexington and Jewett.  Twenty-six years ago they moved to the residence where in peaceful sleep she passed to Heavenly home.  It was in the month of roses, which she loved, and in her last resting place she was covered and surrounded by their beauty and fragrance.  Four years ago she suffered a nervous breakdown, with complications, and since then had been out of health.  Of a warm hearted and loving yet quaint disposition, she was a devoted, unselfish wife and mother, and her familys tender hands cared for her to the end.

 

She is survived by her husband, two sons (Charles of Athens township and Horace of Brooklyn), two daughters (Mrs. Willis Brandow of Athens and Miss Berdella Moore of the town of Athens), four grandchildren and one sister (Mrs. Rowena Moore, who had been with her for the past three years.)

 

 

Death of James Moore                  Catskill Daily Mail   Nov 21^st, 1927

 

Former Catskill Milk Dealer Dies in New Jersey

 

James Moore, for many years a milk dealer in Catskill and who lived on the Vosenkill road in the town of Athens, where he had a large farm, died this morning at the home of his daughter, Mrs. Arthur Burgess, in Rutherford, NJ.  The funeral will take place Wednesday afternoon, at 2:30 oclock at the home of his son, Charles Moore, on the Vosenkill road, and the burial will be in the Jefferson Rural Cemetary.

 

Mr. Moore is survived by two sons, Charles Moore, who succeeded his father in the business, and Horace Moore, of Brooklyn, and two daughters, Mrs. Arthur Burgess of Rutherford, NJ, and Mrs. Willis Brandow, of Athens.

 

Mr. Moore was a man who enjoyed the respect and quiet confidence of his fellow men.  Quiet and unostentatious, but of a genial disposition, he had a wide circle of friends who will sincerely regret his death.  For many years he sold milk in Catskill and built up a large and lucrative business.  He was a man of the highest integrity and this contributed largely to his success.

                                                Notation on the obituary clipping:  Age 76, died 4:43 am

Preface

 

Some poems composed by James E. Moore in old age for the consolation of those I leave behind when I have passed the great Divide to the great beyond.  May those who read them enjoy the same pleasure the writer has received in composing will be full compensation.   JEM

 

 

Could we but once control the - uncontrollable

And see the thing which we possess - inanimate

That, which, doth leave the body - inconsolable

Which with corruption, doth not contaminate.

 

That, which, soars above, below, nor whereunto

We know not now; returns not, after seperation

To give account of the mysterious - in lieu

Of unfolding the mysterys born in creation

 

Could we but once dissect that part; - unconcerned,

As we do, wherein it holds its sway - dominant,

Oer all the master mind of great and learned,

Whose wisdom leave for others less prominent.

 

To search the secret of the power of will - revealed,

Only by an unseen guide doth hold full control,

Wherein the poets full description - unsealed,

Doth find in hi immortal part - the soul.

 

Should not the immortal part give thanks intertwined

As are; that we should know so little of futurity,

Yet possessing so great faith, waught left behind

Eer can hinder the immortal parts security.

 

Introduction

 

Why should I write, when all the earth seems filled,

And nought is left to me but empty space?

Some poetry teaches, some written verse teaches,

One the mind degrading - the other inspiring grace.

 

Sometime I think that ancient poets have written,

All the things that heart could wish to say,

Nothing more to teach us, nothing new to reach us,

It seems as if the lyric of the poet had its day.

 

Yet somehow ancient things may need rehearsing,

To give expression to what is in your heart,

Lest such retiring, may banish the inspiring,

Of the silent muse that gives to you your heart.

 

Where the burdens, and cares of life are laid aside,

And weary one tires of lifes transitory things,

The poets lyric theme comes with a cheerful mien,

A gladness, joy, and pleasure to us brings.

 

So let us write our thoughts - in the after years

All who follow in the circle round of time;

Perchance in distress; some cheerfulness possess,

By ecstacies that we have woven into rhyme.

 

There let all who read these lines remember,

He who wrote them took the greatest pleasure.

When the inditing, the thoughts he is writing

And the pleasant memories, counted treasure.

 

But on me the shawods fast are falling,

Times grim finger is pointing to the tomb,

My pen will soon lay down, but not with a frown,

Ive a hope within, Heaven will be home.

 

 

The Vision

 

This morning I stood on the hilltop,

And gazed on the valley below;

All nature was clad as in springtime,

The sun made the air all aglow.

 

Dewdrops stood out like bubbles,

Treetops moved with the breeze,

I thought a God must be in them

Alike on land and the seas.

 

As pondering the beauties of nature,

A mist came over mine eyes,

I saw no more that was earthly,

My thoughts upturned to the skies.

 

I saw that beautiful hilltop,

Where zion in beauty shall dwell,

Where Jesus passed from their vision,

And knew for her it is well.

 

For there He ascended to glory,

A cloud received Him from sight,

By faith I saw Him returning,

With angels, in glory and light.

 

And Zion was glad and rejoiced,

As on her shining he looked,

A scroll in his hand with names,

Of all that ever was booked.

 

Come in thou blest of my Father,

I long have waited for thee,

I paid the great debt for your pardon,

You now have acceptance in me.

 

7

 

The mansions up here are all ready,

My going prepared them for thee;

I have come for my bride, is she ready,

Her garments are on as I see.

 

Ye have borne each ones burdens,

Fullfilled all my law of love,

Remembered my great commandment,

Its like unto that above.

 

We have a continuing city,

Its streets are jasper and gold,

The emblem of heavenly security

And built in the heavenly mold.

 

I said, I will always stay here,

Ill not go back to the earth,

The veil was removed from my eyelids,

I was still in the land of my birth.

 

I saw that in self I was trusting,

Instead of his mercy and grace,

For nothing of earth can enter,

That holy heavenly place.

 

I pray I yet may keep a trusting,

By faith, in love, nothing fearing

Watching, waiting with patience,

His glorious second appearing.

 

8

 

To my Daughter - Grace

 

Your name suggests some feeble thoughts,

Ive wondered what it meant,

While pondring on the grace of God,

These lines to me were sent.

 

Grace is a free gift of love,

The fountain of our youth,

The spring and summer of our joys

Tis Gods eternal truth.

 

Grace is the spirit of our God,

In renewing of our heart,

Restraining from the depths of sin,

The true life giving dart.

 

The righteousness of Christ applied,

To sinners bought with blood,

The reconciling us Him,

The eternal, living, God.

 

It brings patience, meekness, faith.

It makes our virtues shine.

It gives something more than life

It touches the divine.

 

Salvation founded on that word

Eternal life secures,

It gives a foretaste of a heaven,

All that heaven insured.

 

Embrace mercy, pardon free,

Love, kindness and good will.

If prone to wander far away

Tis grace holds us still.

 

9

 

Its virtue never can be told,

By tongue or pen of men.

It never never can be earned,

But must be felt within.

 

Doubly blest are those who have

This power on them bestowed.

They see the shining heavenly way.

They walk the narrow road.

 

Their footsteps will leave a print,

If kept by power of grace.

Their names are written in a book,

Which sin cannot efface.

 

Lines to my granddaughter Nellie, (4 yrs old)

 

I received your sweet letter, dear Nellie

It flew in here like a bird,

I read it over and over again, Nellie

I sure I read every word.

 

There was something about it, dear Nellie,

Around my heart strings entwine

I could see your little blue eyes, Nellie,

Looking at me in each line.

 

And I knew your thoughts as plain, Nellie,

As if perfected by pen.

So save me one dear little curl, Nellie,

And write to grandad again.

 

10

 

Unknown

 

I have just received a letter from my old home town.

As I looked on the address, it nearly knocked me down;

But two long weary months since I became a rolling stone,

To receive a forward letter, written on its face- Unknown.

 

Many, many years, I lived there, every day had some mail.

Did I live so secluded, by mountain, hill or dale,

That I should be so soon forgot, memories from me blown

To winds?  So postman with a pencil writes on address - unknown.

 

Was there not one friend left to tell him I still live,

To hold them in remembrance, the best my heart can give?

What is there now to call me back since I am left alone.

Or draw upon my heartstrings, when my name is - unknown.

 

Have I not left up there, some trace of evil or of good.

A friend or enemy, by which I might be understood,

To think my lifes a failure, just like mong bees a drone,

If so I must not murmer if they write my name - unknown.

 

Well I have but a few more years to paddle my canoe,

Im past the time of joyous life, to make a great ado.

Ive many deeds, many thoughts, for which I might atone.

It will not make much difference, if I remain - unknown.

 

If I can feel all my sins by one has been forgiven,

I care not what becomes of earth, leave me the hope of heaven,

With eyes of faith and wings of love, to reach my Fathers throne,

And hear His voice come in, then Ill not be - unknown.

 

11

 

Mothers Album Quilt

 

How I remember when a boy, it used to be my greatest joy,

Whenver came a stormy day, and I could not go out to play.

She washed my hands, put on clean kilt, and let me read her album quilt.

I then would go to bedroom spare, spell out the names recorded there,

I red them with boyish glee, and call her to pronounce for me.

I view it now with mute surprise, as tears are streaming from my eyes;

Memrys tear - solemn thought - to see the names her fingers wrought.

Full sixty names there enrolled, to me each thread is all of gold.

She said she made it when a girl, blessed thoughts those names unfurl.

She said she was not married then, but father was the best of men.

Could see that anywhere in room, for fathers name was as a groom.

On the left close by his side, was mothers name, a would be bride.

Fifty years they lived together, to them twas always pleasant weather.

When father time divided them, she still said hes the best of men.

When lying on her dying bed, she called me to her, thus she said

Be good to father ever be, for he has been so good to me.

Some faults, but they were small, virtues far outshone them all.

Their spirits joined, as I believe, made by a Saviours great reprieve.

No monument was ever built, so dear to me as this album quilt.

These thoughts to me is sweet refrain, as mother, wife, she left no stain.

Fourscore years have passed I wot, this album quilt contains no spot,

Each cross-stitched letter neatly planned, shows the work of mothers hand.

When to mine eyes no sight is given, may I then meet her up in heaven.

While here on earth desire is felt, to leave a name for an album quilt.

 

To Mother

 

No tears, no woes, now dim her eyes,

Shes with her God in Paradise;

She looks no more through dimming veil,

Her eyes behold, His form is real.

 

12

 

To Grace

 

Polly Green

 

Here I sit in a heated room,

Been doing old New York.

Been down full two weeks or more

And have not seen a stork.

Theres lots of kids upon the street,

Like pied pipers fable.

The sweetest thing I have seen ,

Is Polly on the table.

 

She sits here in the center now

In dress of fluffy green.

Mid many dishes white as snow,

She sits the reigning queen.

Her face above her dress so gay

Is dainty pink and white.

Methinks I can see your face

As I sit here tonight.

 

As we are sitting round the board,

And lots of viands seize,

The best of all is what I see

For Polly n cottage cheese.

Fancy takes me back once more

To lands of snow and rain,

She shows me faces that I love

And hope to see again.

 

I should be very thankful

To sit here, all are able,

Though it calls up memrys tear

While Pollys on the table.

She talks to me yet cannot speak

Such words I cant erase

She is doubly dear now I know

Was fondled once by Grace.

 

13

 

Giving me some pleasant thoughts,

She sets my mind at ease.

I love to look at Polly Green

I love to eat the cheese.

And as I sit and gaze at her

Im back near fifty years

A bride all dressed in vivid green

Before mine eyes appears.

The dress was full to wear oer hoops

I bid these thoughts adieu.

In after years the bridal dress

Was fitted out for you.

It was happy days I saw there

Your mother then was queen.

Why not, should I love to look

On little Polly green.

 

Ah me! time has changed all things

From green we turn to gray.

I am left to hope on still

And she has passed away.

I think of a December eighth

I then was like a boy

Our hearts oerflowed with briny tears

But they were tears of joy.

 

That day you came a precious gift

Round you our hearts entwinned

Our life was filled by filial love

We knew that God was kind.

 

14

 

Reflections

 

Now I almost think Im crazy, and my mind is getting hazy,

With the grim and saddened anguish of despair;

My cheeks are getting sunken, my brain is dull and drunker,

And Im all upset with everything thats care.

 

My head is getting shiny, my eyes are getting briny,

My hands refuse to do the things they ought;

My feet are getting slippy, my walk is getting tippy,

I have never reached the good for which I sought.

 

Now I say by thunder, as I often sit and wonder

When Im straining every muscle tooth and nail,

I worked as hard and harder, but never filled my larder,

With the stuff that modern men are calling kale.

 

But why set here and chaff.  Ill sit me down and laugh.

For I have nearly reached three score years and ten.

I call myself a bloke, and just sit here and smoke.

As I ponder oer the things that might have been.

 

Like the last leaf on the tree, tis alas!  too late for me.

To get up and dust or make a start in life.

Ill try to be content with what to me is sent

And try to hold my peace, and cease from strife.

 

Now my friends sit and grin, call me chickenhearted Jim

As I never grasped the wheel that brings the dope.

Never made a final dash, to get other peoples cash,

For fear I might get dangling on a rope.

 

And it really seems to me tho as crude as I can be,

If I am only just contented as I am,

I shall take as much with me, when I pass the great G.D.

As was ever done, alas, by any other man.

 

15

 

City vs. Country

 

The sun shines just as bright here.

The sky is just as blue.

The moon is just the same old moon

As shines up there on you.

The same winds blow on our cheeks,

Though salty air they yield,

They waft the smell of dirty streets,

Not fumes of scented fields.

 

The same birds sing for us here

As sing for you there

But not around the doors as yours

We have no room to spare.

The people here of Adams race,

Just live for each alone.

Give them pleasure, wealth or bliss,

All else they will condone.

 

No soical tie eer seems to bind,

Except mong favored few.

They never greet you when they meet,

Not so up there with you;

They do not have the time to spare

To think of whats true worth,

Of home above or future state

They seem content with earth.

 

The same God reigns over all,

Yet it seems like a pity,

For He is far more glorified

In country than in city.

This is the way it looks to me

May be a narrow view

I try to be content with mine,

Till earth I bid adieu.

 

16

 

The Blind Child

 

Come papa let us take a walk

Where ground is soft and waters roll,

And tell me what I hear and feel

The air doth seem so soft and cool.

 

Well go down by the sea my child.

Where breezes blow and billows roar,

And you can feel the oceans spray,

As loud waves lash against the shore.

 

Papa whence comes the breeze I feel

Like dew upon the morning grass

Is the sand naughty that billows lash

The shore so angry as we pass.

 

These have no ears nor eyes my child,

Yet always keep within their bound;

The hands of God holds them in place,

Thoearth and sea is nearly round.

 

Whats this that hit me on my side?

Methinks its going the other way,

Was it not rude to walk gainst me

When this great road is very wide.

 

That was a tree you felt my child,

It cannot walk yet always stands,

Waves in the wind but fills its place,

Thats too the working of Gods hands.

 

I feel a warmth upon my cheek.

I did not feel where billows roll,

Is it because the grass is soft,

Or does it come from out my soul.

 

17

 

No, no my child the shining sun,

Gives heat and light all earth around.

With moom and stars in sky above,

In these the work of God is found.

 

Papa lets start here by this tree.

Walk round earth into heaven.

Perhaps the God who knows all things

Can tell why my sights not given.

 

The earth is round yet nothing falls,

But why ask me a thing so strange;

He dwells in you and that is heaven,

Because hes God he does not change.

 

You say there are no blind in heaven,

Which seems to me so very odd.

If then my eyes are opened there,

I thought Id like to look at God.

 

I often think Im like my child.

The spirit God cannot see.

I see Him with my inmost soul,

I hear his whisperings to me.

 

It is enough, I am content.

As blindly now my way I grope,

His burning words my soul doth hear,

His faith a reason for my hope.

 

18

 

The Frost and the flowers

 

Frost            Ha!ha! said the frost, with its finger of scorn,

                     Ill clip off your heads, by which you adorn

                     The summer, in wreath and in smile.

                     I bedecked with a tear all your petals so bright,

                     And clothed all your beauty with dullness of night,

                     To give you a sleep thats worth while.

 

Flowers       Ah yes said the rose, for the flowers of spring,

                     We submit to your chasning - we make the birds sing

                     And the bees to rejoice with their hum.

                     Yet we will not go, until winter shall hold,

                     His grip: said petunia, and gay marigold.

                     Or close up my petals said chrysanthemum.

 

Frost            You think you resist one with velvet and gold,

                     With cosmos, or clover, or dandelion bold.

                     But for tresspass on season and time;

                     I will pinch you with sparkles again and again,

                     I will blight you in bud and cut you in stem,

                     Until your gay heads will decline.

 

Flowers       We can stand you jack frost, if cheered by the sun,

                     We will keep our gay colors, and each one by one

                     Will faces make smiling and glad.

                     If you make us lie dormant, its easy to bring

                     All our beauty again, by return of the spring.

                     For this simple reason we cannot be sad.

 

Summary     Methinks what a lesson to learn from the flowers,

                     If downcast, or weary, with troublesome hours,

                     Or winters dark season bemoan.

                     To feel we come forth in gladness and praise,

                     And blossom again, with celestial rays,

                     To shine in a heavenly home.

 

19

 

Whims on the Moon

 

Men say when we are doing things,

To do it in the moon.

I dont do that - could not get back

For dinner when its noon.

Plant potatoes when growing small,

And they will larger grow.

Plaint corn when it is growing big,

Could not get there to hoe.

 

Kill the hogs when it is large,

To swell when its cooking.

I stick mine right in the neck,

When the hogs not looking.

They say when the moon is new,

Stand on the end the better.

Spills the water on the ground,

Like a wet hen or wetter.

 

If the moons inclined to lay

Directly on her back,

It is as dry as a beerless town.

The very ground will crack.

Tap the maples when its new

To get the greatest run,

Long way to go to boil it down,

Better take it to the sun.

 

Ill not follow up the whims,

But will contented be

To do as father always did

And bore holes in the tree.

Mooney is too cheap a guy,

Four quarters gets her full.

I never got a jag on that,

Unless I had a pull.

 

20

 

Ode to a Snail

 

Get out of my path you old slow going snail,

I sure have a notion to step on your tail.

Hold on, let me look which end is your head,

I dont seem to find it to step as I said.

 

Which way are you going, sure I cannot tell.

What is this behind you, is that your old shell?

Say, what is it made of - did yo make it by rule?

It is made so perfect, where did you get the tool?

 

If I were to name you, I would call you a lubber,

Your skin looks as if it was made of old rubber.

You must be a female, such fashion pretends,

Big in the middle and taper both ends.

 

I have watched you ten minutes, I have no doubt.

At the rate you are moving, you will never get out.

If you once should get out, how will you get in.

No room to turn round, in the circular thing.

 

It must fit you snug, by the looks of your middie,

No room for old Tommy, no room for the kiddie.

Why not build hime a story for the kiddie an attic.

It wont take so much longer, once you are at it.

 

Say, what do you live on, that makes you so fussy.

You are surely to lazy to be very fussy.

I have seen you bore holes in a ripe tomato,

I have seen you concealed, deep in a potato.

 

With your shell far away you will never get back.

You have nothing to carry, not even a pack.

When you bore the potato it must be for starch,

To build up the sides of your circular arch.

 

21

 

And from the tomato you must get the acid,

To harden the starch and cement up the passage.

I will have to give up, for my questions all fail,

It would take a scientist to unravel the tale.

 

I suppose youre for something, maybe no harm,

I have seen folks like you who dont care a darn.

Who look only for self, and they simply exist.

Come in and pass out, so I still insist -

 

I might talk on forever, it would be no avail.

With all good intentions you will still be a snail.

One thing I am sure of you never cause strife.

But fill up your station in the drama of life.

 

 

Idle thoughts

 

And what is life?  Who can define?

Who has the power to draw the line?

Is it to breathe?  Eke out a living

In gain of wealth?  is it in giving?

 

Ah no!  methinks to keep us here,

Should be - God given words of cheer

Brighten sad hearts with a smile,

These my thoughts make life worth while.

 

Nor let the past, its pains or aches,

Keep brooding on our past mistakes.

But forward look, as hope is given.

Make earth the more like heaven.

 

22

 

Bereft

 

                  I am lonely love since you left me,

                  And gone to the realms of the blest.

                  My confidince does not forsake me,

                  That you are at peace and at rest.

 

                  The sorrows of earth now surround me

                  I have no one in which to confide,

                  The love that to me hath bound thee

                  Fill my heart with thoughts that abide.

 

Chorus      Yes Im lonely so lonely without you.

                  Some day I trust you may come.

                  In my dreams you hover about me,

                  Inviting to your heavenly home.

 

                  I know you now are in glory,

                  The heart so good pure and true,

                  Has taught me the wonderful story,

                  Some day I may come to you.

 

Chorus      Yes Im lonely so lonely without you.

                  Some day I trust you may come.

                  In my dreams you hover about me,

                  Inviting to your heavenly home.

 

                  Mine eyes grow weary with waiting,

                  For the day you joys will share,

                  My sorrows I still are berating

                  They hinder my way over there.

 

To a friend

 

                  Tis sweet to remember, I would not forget

                  The cordial relations, when first we met.

                  Tis sweet to remember, the friends that are dear,

                  Though memory is often bedimed with a tear.

                  But hope bright and smiling appears not in vain,

                  In the thought, some day we may meet again.

                  Thus ever with hope always looking ahead,

                  While memory clings to what has been said.

23

 

Contentment

 

To have all that heart can wish,

Health, wealth, or earthly treasure,

Home and friends or worldly bliss,

With what the world calls pleasure.

                  Is this contentment?

To have our thoughts bound up in self,

To think only of transitory things,

Imagination, with well filled shelf,

Of pride, or vanity always brings.

                  Is this contentment?

To have no losses, crosses or reverses,

Or revel in exceitements field.

To feel that joy, as time rehearses,

That which human life can yield.

                  Is this contentment?

Ah! no methinks its vain endeavor.

Unless hope and joy in a believing -

Some day, when times hand shall sever

Us from what we are recieving:

                  Finds contentment.

When human minds soar far away,

And join with those in spirit land,

When others share our joys, then we may

Find rest and in quietude stand.

                  In contentment.

 

24

 

Gems of thought

 

I love to think of Abrams faith,

To sacrifice his only son.

And then the angel stayed his hand,

By faith the victory won.

I love to think of cloud by day,

And pillar of fire by night.

Restrained the host of Pharoah

And led the hosts of light.

 

I love to think of Noahs faith,

And rightiousness he preached.

Salvation rode within his ark,

All else destruction reached.

I love to think where Moses stood,

Thereon was holy ground.

And hidden in the cleft of rock,

Mercy and grace were found.

 

I love to think of Bethlehems babe,

Born in the lowliest earth,

As spirit descends in dove like form,

I meets my humble birth.

A Joshua to lead us on,

Where Jordans billows roll.

To land of plenty, corn and wine,

It feeds my inmost soul.

 

I love to think of sacred words,

Repeated as was written,

Thou shalt not tempt the lord thy God,

By these was satan smitten.

His magic wand oer all the scene

The tempter at him hurled.

All, all is thine, Oh recreate,

A universal world.

 

25

 

I love to think round Israels tents,

Where angel food was glowing,

with two edged sword he viewed the land,

With milk and honey flowing.

He saw at once the Fathers will,

His faith could never swerve.

The Lord thy God and only Him,

In worship, thou shall serve.

 

I love to think of Gethsemene,

Where prayer was His alone.

Forgive, they know not what they do,

Thy will, not mine, be done.

The tempter sank, rebuked with shame

Beneath oblivious sea.

Messiah bent His sacred steps,

Toward the sea of Gallilee.

 

I love to think His dying words,

Redeemed me from the fall.

Tis finished, its not left for me,

His Fathers will and all.

Rent tabernacle of hisflesh,

His spirit now is free,

To bring his bride triumphant home,

Ordained of God to be.

 

I love to think, that mystic bride,

In heaven; clothed with the sun

Her crown of stars, robes of white,

And hear that voice, well done.

Wondrous espousal, bride arrayed,

In white before His throne,

Chosen, redeemed and justified,

In pity, love, and mercy shone.

 

26

 

I love to think of Stephens faith

With heavens veil removed.

Mid cruel taunts, and crushing stones,

He slept in arms he loved.

The heavenly warp, and earthly woof,

Knit with the threads of love;

The spirit wills, the flesh is weak,

Ordained to dwell above.

 

I love to think those vessels all

For the Masters use were born,

And no a single trembling lamb

From the shepherds bosom torn.

In mortal guise, immortal power,

Beloved disciples given,

Baptize the Lord of glory thus

Uniting earth to heaven.

 

I love to think where troubles come,

And sin is mixed with shame.

His hands, his feet, and side has prints

In sympathy with pain.

In glorified humanity

Incarnate light!  Behold it now

The bridegroom meets his bride alone,

No spot or wrinkle on her brow.

 

I love to think on His elect,

Neath His protecting wings.

Kept in the hollow of His hand

Triumphantly she sings.

Redeemed, redeemed, by prescious blood

It reaches far and wide

A crown of glory there awaits

All, all for whom He died.

 

27

 

Seperation

 

What is it? - why is it - who can tell

What he who conquered knew so well

Can really or truly, say what it means,

But He who passed its solemn scenes.

 

We imagine it comes from a world on high,

From a spirit land, where they never die.

The messenger sent, is long on the track,

What earth furnished;  - to call it back.

 

He who passed through the great ordeal,

Retuned to place the everlasting seal,

On the part which breathed an holy breath,

That immortal part cannot see death.

 

Sometimes we think the righteous sting,

Will pierce our sorrows, and new joys bring.

As we look by faith through dimming veil,

We behold the conqueror, who cannot fail.

 

It looks to me like an entrance way,

To glory realms of an endless day.

Ive seen friends pass, go down the steep

No struggle no pain, like falling asleep.

 

It gives me courage, that when I go,

It may be peace, no passing show,

No flowers need there on my breast

The sign on my face to say, at rest.

 

When sorrows and care of earth are thrown,

Down earthly embankment for a purer home,

Where He who entered, and returns again,

Said, by the same shall enter know all men.

 

28

 

The Garden of love

 

When Edens blossoming tree of life

With tree of knowledge, intertwined

There perfect love - almighty power -

Creation springs, in perfect mind.

 

Love, hears her first whisperings,

Saw, in the first creations tryst,

Of breath, of life, breathed therein,

A spirit of divinist mist.

 

Who can tell the sound thereof,

Of lifting wind that bloweth

Love, one of spirits mysteries

Whence cometh?  whither goeth?

 

Round edens lovely garden roamed

Birds, beasts, and creeping things,

Voiceless and mute, yet in their way,

Praises of their Maker sings.

 

In an image divinely fair,

with handfuls molded dust,

Endowed with immortality ,

Turned adoration into trust.

 

Ancestor of man - rightly named,

That he should bow at His feet.

Amid that life, nor love is found

Fit creature - mans helpmeet.

 

A warm rib from out his side,

Formed one, who, an equal be,

Yet softer gentler lovlier made

In innocence and love was she.

29

 

Naked stand - no shame suffused

Their cheeks, neath Edens bowers,

As joined in hand, wedlocks ban

They walked mid scented flowers.

 

One small pledge allegiance made.

Earths filled, there is no waste.

All is theirs, but knowledge tree

Or tree of life, ye must not taste.

 

All things were good, in blessing blest,

The morning stars together sang.

The creator entered into rest,

Heaven with hallelujas rang.

 

There Edens crystal stream of love,

Coursed through the sacred trees

The counsels of Almighty love,

Spake not of dire disease.

 

Righteousness and peace had kist,

Each other neath its ban

And filial love, no servile fear

Was meted out to man.

 

Face could answer back to face,

As light from darkness goes.

Charity and love celestial twins,

Oer all the garden blows.

 

Wondrous scene, the garden shows

To bright for mortal eyes.

Omnipotence spake, -it is done - .

His home the garden typifies.

 

30

 

Tears

 

Oh tears! Ye rivulets that flow

From fountains of perrenial love,

Do ye come forth from sorrows depths

Or a spring from sympathy above?

Ye showers that fall from mercys cloud,

When drops of tender grief invoke,

Your gentleness lies mightier spell,

Than human tongue ever broke.

 

Tis passing strange those tiny cups,

Filled with both joy and grief.

Secreted there; at our command,

Sends forth such sweet relief,

Compassions tears of sympathy,

Flow from them in distress,

Tears of love, and tears of joy

With tears of bitterness.

 

When on the reedy banks of Nile        {act vii, 2.0}

A babe of rarest beauty wept,

The innocent dews upon his cheeks,

Were links of love, angels kept.

She who washed her Saviours feet,        {Luke vii, 37-38}

With penitential tears,

And with her tangled tresses wiped,

The hunblest altar for her fears.

 

Twas tears that washed sepulchral stone,   {Jno xx,13-15}

In Magdalenas grief.

The droppings from her heart of love,

In tearful eyes, was sweet relief.

Those sacred cells, in human orbs,         {Luke xix, 41}

Hold sorrow love and pity,

As oer Jerusalem he wept

The great and fallen city.

                       

31

 

A Paul and Peters bitter tears,          {Matt xxxi, 70}

Were droppings like a goad,

In sympathy with all who walk,        {Acts xxi, 13}

The narrow thorny road.

The loved evangilist had wept,

As none in heaven were found.          {Rev v, 4}

To loose Apocalyptic seal,

In which the books were bound.

 

Before all other sorrow stands            {Jno xi, 35}

Recorded - Jesus wept.

Oh sacred tears, for human woes.

Those healing drops are kept.

Love and compassion void of tears,

Would lose its truest tone.

Where heart can oft respond to heart.

The highest dwells Triune, alone.

 

Not always grief in briny tears,

Flow from the crystal spring.

But joy sometime exceeding joy,

Not selfimpelled will bring.

Oft in pilgrims journeyings

When veil is rent between,

What gushings forth as we behold

The seen and the unseen.

 

Where crystal fount was opened wide

To virgin mothers eyes,

Tear met tear on sisters cheek,

Twas love, yea paradise,

Harvest reaped, sown in tears.

Tears of joy like Joseph weep,

Holy of Holies - God is there

He giveth his beloved sleep.

 

32

 

Going

 

Do you hear that sweet voice calling?

Then why do you wish me to stay?

I love, but oh they are beckoning,

From far away, far away, away.

 

I see tears in your eyes my darling

Ill bid you dear love sweet adieu.

The seraphs are calling for me dear

Ill come back, for you, for you, to you.

 

I am going my journey looks pleasant,

And there is laughter and joy above.

The rustle of wings I hear round me

Are sounds that I love, I love, I love.

 

Where I go I know youll soon follow.

The charms of earth will soon flee.

We will join then forever and ever

In perfect love to be, to be, to be.

 

The way I go sure you can follow.

You will see where my spirit has gone

Just follow the footsteps of the master,

You will not be alone, be alone, alone.

 

We have been so happy on earth, dear

Sometime a shadows been given,

Theres none where my eyes are leading,

For it is in heaven, in heaven, heaven.

 

33

 

The Prints

 

When holy one hung on the tree

What tender pitying love,

To tell a thief condemned to die

That day might dwell above.

We cannot always see the face

Of Him upon the tree.

The marks upon the sacred form

Are always there to see.

 

When looking upward, we behold

The prints are in his hands.

To show, forgiveness, mercy, love,

Are ours at his commands.

When eer we feel besetting sin

And many troubles onset,

If downcast we can still behold,

The prints are in his feet.

 

When our hope is nearly gone,

And we in self confide,

If wavering betwixt the two,

The print shows in his side.

Pierced with tortuous wounds

That scripture be fulfilled,

There shall not be a broken bone

For thus the father willed.

 

His body represents the bride

And Heher living head.

For He perfected her in love

When rising from the dead.

What comfort then we may feel

By grace our souls are moved.

To know He gave a sacred life

For those the Father loved.

 

34

 

Grandmas Pinks

 

I well remember when a girl,

Just in my teens I think,

Grandma had two pots of flowers,

She called her bridal pinks.

I often went to visit her,

As she lived all alone

In a little cottage in the lane

She said was all her own.

 

I asked why she always loved,

So much those little pinks.

She seemed to give more heed to them,

Than either food or drinks;

Come sit here by my side

And I will tell you why,

I always care so much for them

And shall care till I die.

 

Grandpa and I were married here

Right in this very spot.

I sowed two little beds of pinks

To cheer our lonely cot.

When winter came I took them in,

They bloomed again in here,

Ever since that wedding time,

Have been my constant care.

 

Carnation he named this one,

He said it was the neatest.

For him I called this clove pink,

Because it was the sweetest.

When he admired carnation

I pointed to the clove.

When we looked at them together

Reminded us of love.

35

 

If sometimes we disagreed,

Unlike two sometime thinks,

It would seem to heal the breach

To look on those two pinks.

Grandpa in the graveyard lies

His spirits with [with] his God.

I want these to mark our grave

When I am neath the sod.

 

When our spirits joined again

We will often come to see

Who cares for these little pinks

We named for him and me.

She ceased to speak, her head drooped oer

Her hair was against my cheek.

As I thought from weariness

Grandma fell asleep.

 

She lay so still, I dare not move

Although my arm would ache

I laid my hand upon her cheek

And still she did not wake.

Her face so white, hands were limp,

I gently raised her head.

Her bosom heaved one long, long sigh,

Grandmas form was dead.

 

I placed the pinks upon the graves

Near as I could to each breast.

They comforted them in a long life

They signify at rest.

I put twin headstones at their grave

And cut them like a chair,

When I care for those two pinks

Methink hear whispers there.

 

Can it be that angels watch

Oer every little trust

Confided to us in this life

Till we return to dust.

36

 

The Decades

 

With memrys eye, as I retrace,

Lifes decades, since was born,

A child, in innocence and love,

Almost incarnate in form.

 

Changeless, though changing I grew,

First decade passed at ten.

The world to me was mothers world,

Nor cared I else een then.

 

The next decade with rapid strides,

From boyhood up to truth,

That life is pleasure, life is pain,

Appeared to me as truth.

 

At next ten years I seem to feel

Not boyhood, youth, but man,

Increasing vigor, wealth and ease

Seemed the primeval plan.

 

At next decade in prime of life

High aspirations made.

Content with health and earthly bliss

The fondest hopes portrayed.

 

More quickly rolled another lap,

And steps mark some decay.

As thoughts revert to sterner things,

As natures ties give way.

 

At sixty years the decade seemed

To be at a stand still,

With eager questionings to know

More of Gods Holy will.

 

37

 

With ten years more, allotted time

And left alone in tears,

I now retrace the crooked path,

Ive trodden all these years.

 

Some blasted hopes, some brighter ones

As the long journeys passed.

I see God has been merciful

Yea, more than I have asked.

 

And now my days of toil are oer

I can only forward look.

With longing eyes, and thankful heart,

He neer my case forsook.

 

But gave me faith and hope in Him

And strengthened them with grace,

Then shall I in the next decade

Behold Him face to face.

 

 

Love

 

Wisdom shows there is no greater, tie to bind than the creator

            Gave to man as He designed

Love the greatest boon thats given - love binds everything to heaven.

            Love controls the master mind.

Love is strongest in the world, love is everything unfurled

            Where the waves of nature rolls.

Love binds each one to his fellow, - love makes hardwood hearts mellow.

            Loves the savior of our souls.

 

38

 

Mammon

 

What is it wields such worldly power

Oer humble home or princely bower.

            That souls are sold?

The glittering sparkle, so like rust,

Akin to man, who is but dust,

            Is found in gold.

 

When lust concieved - the message read -

The sweat of brow shall moisten head

            In unabated breath;

This monster rose, with fires of hell

To feed and flame the passions well

            And end in death.

 

Mightier than pride or pleasures thrall

Poised oer the heart of man a gall

            Conscience aside.

He roams the earth, digs in the deep

Nor cares to shun that venom seep

            Natures law defied.

 

Poor fool: he knows that mamons God

Worshiped by hands, drenched in blood

            Gods counsels crossed,

Points back to only wanderlust.

Calls him hence from dust to dust,

            And all is lost.

 

No prisoner has eer returned

From out the flames lust has burned

            To reach angelic goal.

With conscience seared, fame be gained

Both vanity and pride maintained,

            And lost a soul.

39

 

He, God and mammon cannot hold.

The one is love, the other gold.

            Heavens high decree.

We bow to one in humble prayer,

The other only selfish care,

            Cannot agree.

 

Empires from ruined empires build,

Each greater than the last, to gild.

            What passions crave.

As mammon feeds her flame of fire

To heat the pulse of mans desire,

            To be its slave.

 

No spark within the mortal coil,

Yields surer pay for mortal toil,

            Than lucres shrine.

To worship there ends in distress,

All latent powers that we possess,

            With earth combine.

 

Then may the issues, life or death

Be ours to choose, with every breath.

            Shun mammons God.

Worship in spirit and in truth.

Death only shall renew our youth

            When neath the sod.

 

So worship one, discard the lust.

Make not increasing gold your trust.

            By fervent prayer,

Let our inmost thoughts be known.

At merceys seat, before His throne,

            For God is there.

 

40

 

Absent

 

What say you, - but two weeks gone?

To me twas months to be alone.

Our love lay dormant; until in turn

Your absence made it fiercely burn.

My thoughts were constant, I tried

To think you happy; as when a bride

I led you to the alter; but somehow,

I never thought so much as now.

 

What it was to take my better half.

As might be in the realms of death,

Twas different, absence made me see

That your own self was part of me.

A grasp, a kiss from out loves urn

Made me so glad of your return,

And down deep within my heart,

I feel a pressure, no more apart.

 

 

The Teardrop

 

My little grandchild I had not seen

In so long time,  - her eyes a gleam

With love and tenderness holds my hand,

As if dame nature tied with band,

And, smiling, looked into my face

As if in wonder, with childish grace

Of mirth and glee of youth and love

Hands pressing mine like cooing dove.

 

Saw on my cheek a tear - new wept -

As I oer length of years had swept

In flashing thought and measured year

Gushed forth that one lone briny tear.

Grandpa I see a tear upon your cheek.

It dropped; told more than tongue could speak

Of what was on my mind; she but a child

Knew not a grief but looked again and smiled.

41

 

Weary

 

Im aweary, so weary, as the shadows fall

Oer darkened life, like a coffins pall.

As my sun is sinking in the golden west,

Im wondering how soon will I be at rest.

 

Im aweary, so weary, as the clocks dull tick

Beats faster than my slow pulses click.

As thoughts of the past and future blend,

Im wondering if it is nearing the end.

 

Im aweary, so weary, will the waking morn

Bring a bright beginning, a new life born,

Or will earth where the golden leaf lay

Cover all that is left of this mortal clay.

 

Im aweary, so weary, but with dim eyes see

Where a spirit has flown, far over the lea,

Where the flowers of spring will forever bloom

Where the shadows and frosts never come.

 

Im aweary, so weary, so will say goodbye

to the things of earth where all must die.

In a land more bright, will new faces appear,

In a transformed light, I know is not here.

 

Im aweary, so weary, I hear not a sound.

As the topmost leaf falls to the ground.

Silent the spirit returns - all God given

Back to Him in a home called Heaven.

 

42

 

Tender Memories

 

We learned to love in tender years,

And grew to plight our troth anew,

My lips on thy sweet lips I pressed,

Thy rosy cheeks far redder grew.

I oft recal that day we wed,

Our life seemed then so full, beside

Each for the other lived, and loved,

And you to me the loveliest bride.

 

Years passed, four little bairns,

Can in to share our every care

Util they wedded and had gone

And each anothers love will share.

Once again left all alone.

Much happiness in life we led,

But sorrow came to me one day

The other half of me was dead.

 

In the relentless hand of death,

I see no reason why we part.

Joys of earth have vanished now

Im living with a broken heart.

I touched the cold pallid cheek,

My fingers left its imprint there,

Nor raised a blush, nor lips could speak

In eyes half opened, a vacant stare.

 

43

 

Broken Promise

 

you told me Id always be happy,

And you would be good and true.

Tonight you are reeling and nappy,

With something more than homebrew.

 

You say Ill be breaking my promise,

If now I begin throwing mud,

We will be happier than some are,

By nipping this thing in the bud.

 

Likewise we may quarrel tomorrow

Likewise make up the next day.

Such things bring only a sorrow,

When our troth is plighted today.

 

Go with you my very best wishes,

In praying for you I will try,

When looking for other poor fishes,

Your hook be baited bone dry.

 

As years of wedded life advances,

Troubles, and cares are in view.

I would be taking great chances,

If I my promise renew.

 

If you cannot give up drinking,

Your freedom I will extend.

The battle of life I am thinking,

Is better if our romance end.

 

44

 

Spiritism

 

Where the reaper comes with white long bearded face,

TO clip the cords that bind us to our cherished place.

How we defy him, deny him, and cling with all our will

To cheat or rob him, even with physicians skill.

 

So [might] it be - could we but stay injecting monkey glands,

Would life still be to us more dear, the longer stands?

Or by emitting ectoplasm - as seen by Conan Doyle -

We would not wish to stay, and hold this mortal coil.

 

For leving it would be but shaking fear and pain

To dust, or ashes, or winds, that never come again.

If spirit afterward, must labor hard eer given

Rest, een watchmans trust, would this be heaven?

 

Would it be bliss, to know or known, even as here;

Know sorrow for another, look on pain or fear?

If given spirit eyes to witness human ills - what gain

To leave the known for the unknown, if the same.

 

Ah no!  methinks the sacrifice of innocence too great.

To leave one soul - redeemed - in so mortal state.

Until I know Ill say vain heart be still.

It is enough to know and do my fathers will.

 

Psalm 133

 

Behold how good, and how pleasant

When brethren wear unitys raiment

Like unto the ointment on Aurons beard.

Ran down to the skirts of his garment

The heavenly ointment so precious

Is showered on us from above

When by faith we see Gods perfection

Then we see eye to eye, in love.

45

 

Midnights dream

 

Why call ye one this hour of night?

You who was once my chief delight.

Your lovely form stands at my feet,

At hour when night and morning meet.

 

I see thee now a sprightly maid,

Not as when care was on thee laid,

But as a joyous happy bride

And I so happy by your side.

 

Can ye come back?   no it was said

She whom I have loved, now is dead.

I would not think you were gone,

But oh! I miss you in the home.

 

Children there were steeped in tears,

Each had grown to sterner years.

They wept, but that did only prove

The body gone but not your love.

 

In hours when I should be in sleep

Your angel form a vigil keep.

As oft I sigh, - can this be death,

I see no heavings in thy breath.

 

Yet in they silent face glow

Death is passed there is no woe.

Joy and gladness bid me come,

Wherever you may guide me home.

 

Mine eyes are closed but I can see,

A sentinel form watching me.

I will not dread, if this be true,

All earthly cares to bid adieu.

 

46

 

Virtuous Woman

 

The snowflake neer could paint thy brow,

So fair a white as I see now: -

So perfect glint on thy fair cheek

No brush can tint however sleek

No human art such nectar sips

As thy sweet kiss from ruby lips

thy laughing eyes of heavens blue

Soft moistened, like the morning dew.

Thine eyebrows arch in perfect type

Tops off thy nose not overripe.

Thy rounded chin so pearly white,

Is dimpled like the stars of night.

Thy wavy curls of chestnut gold,

Oer fairer bosom never rolled,

Thy breasts - like moons - from heaven clipt

Thy hands with shapely fingers tipt,

Thy dainty feet high arched adorn

Thy torsos lovely perfect form.

Thus may you keep it, God given

Till spirits flight return to heaven.

Naught but a serpent can decieve

So fair a picture of mother Eve.

Non but devils - mischief bent

Seduces one so innocent.

Is this the way loves purified?

By being wounded, tempted, tried?

Love, oh love why wast thou born

To be tempted, turned to scorn.

Thus true love neer runs cold

Unless alloy is mixed with gold.

And she who once need no disguise

Is marred or shamed in mens eyes.

Or cleft in twain, with bated breath,

Leave all and end in death.

 

47

 

A Sunset

 

Strolling by a lake of water

Eastward I passed the stream

Westerly, an orange sunset

Pressed the waters all agleam.

 

Mine eyes - grown old by looking

Brightened up as if yestreen

Never had they in a lifetime

Such reflection ever seen.

 

Golden sun just emergning,

From a cloud across its brow

Might have had a silver lining

But the rays were golden now.

 

Oer those gentle rippling waters,

On its face in spreading angles,

Shone the rays of yellow luster,

Covered it with golden spangles.

 

So methought a God in nature

Pictures made for human eye

To enjoy, and meant to praise him,

For a sun, an earth, and sky.

 

 

Dew of Heirmon

 

The dew rising up from the ground

Is not the dew falling from heaven.

The one only moistens the footsteps

Like the mantle the other is given.

On mountain of Zion descended

From out of a bountiful store

There the Lord commanded a blessing

Even life forever more.

 

48

 

The Choice

 

As I sat by my window in the moonlights pale gleam,

A something passed oer me, like a vision or dream.

My eyelids were closed, in the picture, stood youth

All tethered and fettered, by her side stood truth:

Then beauty passed by her, with pride on her arm

While glory and fame led enchantment and charm

Temptation was there, with its pleasures untold

As laughter, and mirth run like rivers of gold.

Each held out a hand - but with tremulous fear

I beheld goodness, and mercy, far in the rear.

Said beauty, take me, and forever be grand.

But truth said unbind me, Ill by you stand.

Then pride, and glory, fame and enchantment

Said we can give you more, for we bring contentment.

Though laughter and mirth appeared more gay

Temptation was clothed in the most gaudy array,

Truth, fettered, mercy, and goodness were sad

So temptation was strong to take her and be glad.

I said these may all do in the days of my youth,

But what will it profit with the fetters on truth.

Then when I am old, and helpless at last,

Will goodness then help as I reflect on the past

To late for my presence, sweet mercy up spoke.

Ill untie thee - take these three - then I awoke.

And saw mercy and goodness and truth were three

To pilot me over lifes billowy sea.

Charity for captain - my barque may be frail -

Will land me safely, where others would fail.

 

49

 

The Frozen Teardrop

 

Hast thou forgotten, we in words spoke only truth;

For love was young, and tender, as always in youth.

And how we pledged to each the fond and loving care,

If joy or sorrow came, how each would bear a share.

 

How once, - by my harsh word - a teardrop from thy eye

Trickled down thy cheek, and on they heaving bosom lie,

There in a winter blasting wind, it froze but never broke.

With one fond look it told more than if in words it spoke.

 

Sparkling in the winter sun like berylline gem

To me more worth than glittering stone in diadem.

It pierced my heart; - that I by one unkind word

Could strike the tender cords of love, soft, yet unheard.

 

Twas seet, as in long after years I thought to live

On those dear words you gently said.  I will forgive.

It seemed as if, then, love had more than overflow

And taught how easily could check a tale of woe.

 

And twine each other in arms of love, from day to day,

And feel that love is young if we grow old and grey,

One day an angel took thee - let me dream all the time

That I know a love no stronger, for love is all divine.

 

50

 

Unrest

 

In the gloaming, waves are foaming,

Through the stillness of the night;

Hushed and silent is the dark night.

Will I see the morning light?

 

Oft Im peering, as Im nearing

The great icy rivers brink;

Waters rushing, madly gushing,

Downward to the missing link.

 

Left so lonely, thinking only,

Of the future, and the past,

Will the fullness break the stillness

Of my skies so overcast.

 

Icy river, makes me shiver,

Eer I enter it to cross,

Will the going - unknown, knowing -

Count for me a gain or loss.

 

Will the crossing, be embossing

All my faith, hope and trust.

Will the leaving stop my grieving

For what must return to dust.

 

Is no lighthouse, in the greathouse,

Over on the other side.

Darkness clearing, as Im peering

For some signal as a guide.

 

Eer I enter, deaths cold center

Will a boatman ever dare?

Can I ever cross this river,

All alone? Yes, God is there.

51

 

The old rocking chair.

 

One night I sat musing in an old rocking chair,

I wished it could speak and its story declare.

The things I knew not, with the things that I knew,

And the more I kept musing, more curious I grew.

It was built for grandmother, by her father I knew,

But she died and left it when mother was two.

She then kept it going for her own little one.

And has left it a treasure for me now shes gone.

 

Not alone it rocked babies, but lovers as well.

And oh! could it speak it would fairy tales tell.

Of cooings and wooings, caresses and tears,

This old chair has rocked an hundred years.

Go where I will its sweet memories will come.

It has gladened and brightened many a home.

I love it, and leave it, in my dear childrens care,

This old wooden rocker, my grandmothers chair.

 

Fifty years.

 

Just fifty years ago today; is that so long a life?

As I look back a blooming lass, that day became my wife.

And I a lad of tender years, had passed my twenty-one.

With brightened hopes, we measured life, as just begun.

Twas evening; - no lowering clouds concealed the starry sky

When our two hearts were joined as one, in double team to try.

We held those sacred vows we made till she was passed away,

Two years more we could renewed our golden wedding day.

 

But times relentless hand cut loose the cords of love that bind.

Took the one who walked with me, and thus left one behind.

Oer places rough, and smooth, each others burden bear,

And now alone Im waiting, and she is waiting there;

So may it be; - for there is one who knoweth what is best.

Which one, when, and where, to call to heavenly rest.

Oh cease my throbbing heart, and trust it is Gods will.

To give me courage, faith, and hope, to know, and say, be still.

 

52

 

What is this whence cometh, - whither goeth, - that which I possess,

Which speaks no certain language, in words, who can guess?

Or give me title, - it fills all living - emits no sound,

Yet holds its silent sway in every life above the ground.

Which never hopes to hold, nor asks of it one single thread

To bind together all living things, - I know not of the dead.

Shows its power from monarch, to smallest bearing young,

It dwells in all creation, whispers in silent unknown tongue.

Een Lucifer - grimvisaged - has a taste for it in lust,

And preys upon poor mortals, who dare in it to trust.

By bringing all his warriors - pride, jealousy, or disease,

Revenge, hatred, even murder, to bring her to his knees.

I saw but very little of it, when first a little yap I made.

But she who looked upon me, and rendered the first aid,

Was full, when it from out her gentle breast I drew,

Did not lessen, but more quickly filled and grew.

Until inheritance, from mother Eve, began it to annoy.

And satan came again - well armored - to destroy.

Its beauty, and mix things so hard to separate.

But easy when his mission was just to desecrate -

To me was given two minds - like two strong, tender hands,

And there between the two - waving at each she stands.

On right, peacefulness, left wrathfulness, - eavh other hating

Her presence,  - fairy like - as when cooing doves are mating.

Waving scepter oer the scene, it touched them lightly

And never seems to tire; was there by day and even nightly.

For in dreams, - satan scarcheeked - , sat near my bed.

She too was there, with gentle wings, stretched oer my head.

As if to guard my mettle, until spirits wistful dawning

Had driven satan from his perch peeved and yawning.

Wheresoeer forgiveness, mercy, joy, or even pitys needed,

Wheresoeer sorrow, grief, pain or even anguishs heeded,

Thou art there with lavish hand, warm and silent still.

We cannot recognize thee only in carrying out Gods will.

Ever sinfulness, the worst of human ills to crush

Thy gentle voice can soothe and has the power to hush.

53

 

The lowest passions, even curses, by thee are turned to praise

All nature, made to bloom and flourish at thy gaze.

Thou art very old, so old man, nor sun nor stars of morn,

Nor heaven itself, can remember wherein thou wert born.

Once part of thee came to earth arrayed in human cloth

To tell us how what came with thee appeased, the wroth

And fixed all for thee, so deaths long last embrace

Could not hold all thats given to mans fallen race.

But crowned with thee and in thy glory evermore to raise

Their lowd hallelujas to Him the great ancient of days.

 

 

To The title guessing

 

In giving my poem a title of love,

You had a tip from something above,

For when I was writing the words I find

Shut out the true meaning I had in mind.

Love to my master, love for His cause,

Love, his commandment - love is his laws.

Love of the Father, love of his Son,

Love for a people wholly undone.

Love for His bride, he entered the tomb.

Love brought forth from virginitys womb,

Sure is a good title for greatest of thought.

Ransom was settled, bride blood bought.

Let us remember, the heavenly dove,

Alighted on him, who is wisdom and love.

Love begets love, where seed has been sown,

When the harvest has ended, love gathers its own.

 

54

 

The change of hour

 

Who wrote, tis midnights holy hour

And silence now is brooding oer

A still and pulseless world.

He must have been a cave man

Or dwelt upon a broad span

Surely not the modern plan

Of midnight now unfurled.

 

He may have been an ancient crex,

Remote from men or gentler sex

A subject our pity

He never knew the waves of air

Nor what a little wire can bear

Nor revelry, from from care

Or deviltry in modern city.

 

Midnight there neer contains

A silence; - hum of bus and trains,

Make him who craveth sleep,

Cuss, and wonder when or where,

A place thats free from evil snare

On land, or sea or in the air.

The stillness vigils keep.

 

When men in floating waves

Converse, - time and distance saves

A thousand miles apart

And millions are a listening

In song and dance a glistening

With little tubes assisting

Heart responds to heart.

 

55

 

Where in a room confined

The thoughts are intertwined

Broadcasted everywhere.

Ships at sea when in distress

Send out their cry, an S.O.S.

Tell their course, get redress,

Through the waves of air.

 

All the things help devour

Time of midnights holy hour

And change to nearer three,

The hour for quiet sleep and rest.

We have so far progressed.

We try to keep all things abreast.

Of everything we see.

 

Boats now dive in every place

Ships soar aloft in open space

Men go unconcerned.

Thieves play the same old game

Women get there just the same.

In search for riches or of fame

As when unlearned.

 

Past fifty years as we reflect,

In fifty more may we expect

More wonders soon,

With our modern intercourse

Mind enters mind in every source,

(Even now progressing in divorce)

May soon address the moon.

 

56

 

Cheerie

 

Some day, some time, when you are gloomy and sad,

When your countenance has fallen, and things going bad,

            And it makes you troubled and blue.

Just raise up the lid with your eyebrows and gaze,

You will find then, the most of the mist and the haze,

            Is confined in the bosom of you.

 

Some day, some time, when your thoughts are dreary,

And you feel so lonesome, haggard and weary,

            Too late you may find and know,

If yourself will be cheerful, more gallant, and gay.

Your face will reflect whom you meet by the way,

            And on it no wrinkles will grow.

 

If you look through the eyes of suspicion and fear

They will reflect to your sorrow, the same wonted care,

            You are looking at life with a screen.

If your mouth has a smile, and its corners incline,

And your eyes give a twinkle, like sunlight divine,

            None of your troubles are seen.

 

The rose may be white, the rose may be red,

Each sends a fragrance, and nothing is said.

            Nature provides it so sweet.

So give good cheer to others, the best you possess.

It will help in lifes journey and ease their distress.

            And come back to you when you meet.

 

Someday, some time, you learn the lesson in vain,

And the gloom on your face is there to remain.

            Remember that youre not alone.

You are following the failures others have made.

Your not holding the brake going down grade,

            But carelessly letting it run.

 

57

 

Longing

 

Ive a longing in my bosom,

And I cannot tell for who,

But what longing seems to center

In my lonely thoughts of you.

 

Ive a longing for the old home

And the dear ones I have left,

For happiness I always shared

Before I was bereft.

 

Oh the memries of a dear home,

Children playing round my knee.

Thrills me with a constant longing

For the ones so dear to me.

 

In that longing theres another

Gone from earth forevermore.

Ive a longing I shall see her,

Over on the other shore.

 

In that longing theres a calling

As the time is drawing nigh.

For a glorious bright reunion,

In that sweet bye and bye.

 

58

 

Old Fashioned

 

There was an old fashioned girl; near a century ago

who wished to be wedded, neath a tall mistletoe.

In her mothers flower garden, of old fashioned flowers

While dew was a sparkling, in wee morning hours.

 

With old silver laces, and an old fashioned veil,

To match her white gown with old fashioned trail.

An oldfashioned parson, the ceremony to say,

With an oldfashioned ritual, love, honor, obey.

 

The troth she then plighted in the oldfashioned way

Is sacred to her - oldfashioned - now wrinkled and gray.

In joys or in sorrows, in lifes pleasure or care

She has been a life partner, in the burden they bear.

 

One little daughter, from that fond union grows,

She gave to her a name, just oldfashioned Rose.

She reared her oldfashioned with milk of her breast,

with smiles of her face, love did all the rest.

 

And her heart is so light, though far past fourscore.

She loves things oldfashioned, as in days of yore.

I so lover her sweet face, I shall neer see another,

Like this oldfashioned lady, for she is my mother.

 

 

Lines on a wedding anniversary

 

May this day be a reminder, of the days you were wed

May the troth you plighted be firm, same sweet words said.

May the same God who kept you, and preserved by his grace,

Shower blessings upon you till you see him face to face.

May it be happiness to dwell in secret places of most High

And be nearer to each other, as the time to leave draws nigh.

 

59

 

The Land O my dreams

 

Im peering from out the dark shadows

In the sunlight of life far and wide.

And the bliss in my vision gives pleasure

Whatever the darkness betide;

The way has been long in my journey,

and wide varied the scenes.

A rocky old road I have traveled,

Oer the way to the land of my dreams.

 

A father has gone on before me,

A mother is waiting me there,

A child with the wings of an infant,

I often see hovering near.

But the ties of nature are clinging,

And the way is thorny it seems.

I am waiting where hope is a smiling

A welcome, to the land o my dreams.

 

The past has its joys and its sorrows.

The companion once at my side,

Has left and gone for tomorrow,

And joined the heavenly bride.

The hope some day I will see them

With beauty and charity teems,

That soon Ill pass over the river,

And visit the land o my dreams.

 

60

 

Three Friends

 

I have three friends; each so unlike the other,

I dare not even think or call them brother, -

The first is fickle, false,  - second doubly blest,

While other, last and sure, bids to sleep and rest.

As number one gets puffed, thinks he is great,

Often bites, devours, and lays himself prostrate,

Only to rise again to make some more ado

And boast, all on earth is I and not in you.

 

When the second friend in my behalf appear.

Allwise, all glorious, in troubles ever near.

He shows my imperfections and is ever there.

To treat my every ill, and keep a watchful care,

Then comes the other, sly, cunning, sure at last

To take the recompense of all earthly past

And gather in the mortals final breath -

Three friends: myself, Maker, and angel death.

 

Yesterday - Today - Tomorrow

 

Yesterday, yesterday passed away.

Only dwells in memrys eye.

Words we said, deeds we did,

Will they live or die.

 

Today, yes today, what we say

Tears, or laughter brings.

As we make it others take it

As it soothes or stings.

 

Tomorrow, the tomorrow never borrow,

Only faith an eye is given.

Deeds today or yesterday for mercy pray

To give is hope of heaven.

 

61

 

Praying

 

What changes in life is experience.

Each mortal must taste it a share.

Een though it is bittered with sorrow,

It often is solaced by prayer.

If prayer from the heart ascenteth,

With selfishness laid on the shelf.

An angel might pray for a mortal,

But a sinner must pray for himself.

 

If a halo of glory surrounds us

The petition conforms to Gods will.

What relief from anguish and crying

To feel in the answer, be still

And know the heavenly message

Through wafted by fairy or elf,

Come right home to the penitent sinner

When the sinner can pray for himself.

 

A brother may pray for his fellow,

A clergyman pray for his flock.

It may be tempered with kindness,

It cannot the bosom unlock.

But when by the spirits inditing

And true repentance is given,

To feel forgiveness and mercy,

The sinners prayer reaches heaven.

 

62

 

Winter

 

Now tis winter, and the glinter

Of the frost upon the pane,

Makes me shiver, God forgive her

That she chills my brain.

My summers past, Im overcast,

With the sense of harvest time.

Now the reaper, is my keeper,

I can see the sickle shine.

 

When he thrusts it, can I trust it

Am I fitted for the sheaf.

In the garner have I a corner

Ripened like a golden leaf.

In the shadow across the meadow,

Of the blissful spirit land,

Will they meet me, will they greet me,

Can I ever with them stand?

 

Will the dove, with wings of love

Bring a message unto me?

Come ye blessed poor distressed,

bounteous grace for such as thee:

Days are lengthened, hope is strengthened

By His mercy and His grace,

Sins forgiven, God in heaven,

May I stand before thy face.

 

Hours seem longer, hope is stronger,

As I patiently await.

Past berating, I am waiting,

Entrance in the golden gate.

Spring returning, is a burning

Of the winter of the soul.

Happy meeting, joyful greeting

Where I reach the sacred goal.

 

63

 

Remedies

 

If you have a friend in need,

That will not his conscience heed,

Give milkshake of human kindness

If you have an erring friend,

Who will take a downward trend

Cheerie words may help the blindness.

 

If your child shows sullen temper,

Fretful, and inclined to whimper,

Give three goblets filled with smiling.

If they dont resist temptation

Give three grains of admonition,

Gently, softly, and beguiling.

 

If disputes arise, - they are human

Be it partner, man or woman,

Give one ounce of hesitation

In a moment thoughts may cool,

And will come the golden rule

Of a peaceful restoration.

 

Theres a pill of satisfaction,

For every kindly word or action,

That we give our fellowmen.

Just a scruple of contentment

Has more value than resentment

If administered by tongue or pen.

 

If you have a cup of sorrow

Today: - just think a tomorrow

May bring happiness or pleasure

Just a dram of cheerful greeting

Will insure a joyful meeting,

If bestowed with honest measure.

 

Take a tablet every morning

Of love: - it is lifes adorning.

Milestones on the weary roadway

Faith, hope, and patience - treasures

That will fill the daily measures.

And triumph will reward each day.