Poems of the Heart and Home | Page 8

branches with music low, And golden sunbeams sparkle and play, And dance with shadows the livelong day.
Up to his forehead undimmed by time, The morning sun-ray is first to climb, With the tender touch of its earliest beam To break the spell of his dewy dream; And there the longest, when daylight dies, The rosy lustre of sunset lies, As loath to fade on the distant sea, Without an adieu to the old Elm tree.
And grand it is, when the wintry blast With shout and clamor is sweeping past, To watch the stately and stern old tree As he battles alone on the wintry lea, With leafy crown to the four winds cast, And stout arms bared to the ruffian blast; Or fiercely wrestles with wind and storm, Unbowed of forehead, unbent of form.
O proud old tree! O loneliest tree! Thy strong-limbed brothers have passed from thee;-- One by one they've been swept away, And thou alone--of the centuries grey That have come and gone since thy hour of birth, And left their scars on the patient earth-- Remainest to speak to the world and me Of hoarded secrets that dwell with thee.
What of thy birth-hour? what of thy prime? Who trod the wastes in that olden time? Who gathered flowers where thy shadows lay? Who sought thy coolness at noon of day? What warrior chieftains, what woodland maids, Looked up to thee from the dusky glades? Who warred and conquered, who lived and died In those far off years of the forest's pride?
No voice, no answer! So I, too, speak, Yet mine, as the insect's call, is weak To break thy silence, thou lonely tree, Or win a whispered reply from thee. Yet, teacher mine, thou hast taught my heart What soon from its records will not depart-- A lesson of patience, a lesson of power, Of courage that fails not in danger's hour, Of calm endurance through winter's gloom, Of patient waiting for summer's bloom, And, heavenward gazing, through storm and night, Like thee to watch for the dawning light.

DROWNED
[Footnote: In the Grand River, at Brantford, July 30th, 1875, Miss Jessie Hamilton, adopted daughter of C.H. Waterous, Esq., Brantford, aged 14 years and 3 months, and Miss Ella E. Murton, only daughter of John W. Murton, Esq., Hamilton, aged 14 years.]
The morning dawned without a cloud, But evening came with pall and shroud,-- With muffled step, and bated breath, And mournful whisperings of--_death!_
* * *
Young lips, that in the morning sung The summer's opening flowers among, Were hushed and cold;--young, laughing eyes, That met the dawn with sweet surprise, Were darkly sealed;--young feet, that pressed The dewy turf with glad unrest, Were cold and stirless, never more To tread the paths they trod before;-- And they, who in the morning strayed In fawn-like freedom down the glade, In solemn, dreamless slumber lay, To wake no more, at fall of day!
O stern, remorseless, sullen Tide! O dark Flood, never satisfied! Couldst thou not pity, when, to thee Those young lambs sped so trustingly? Nay, nay;--the tempest's stormy wrath Spares not the lily in its path!-- The tameless river will not rest, To heed the rose-leaf on its breast!-- A moment, and the quiet shore Heard a low wail, and heard no more;-- And then, with calm, unaltered mien, The river glided on serene-- With what a weight of anguish fraught!-- Unconscious of the woe it wrought.
"Dust unto dust!" O God, thy way Strange and mysterious seems to-day, As, in the darkness of the tomb, What but an hour ago was bloom And beauty, now we hide away, And leave to silence and decay! Aid us in lowliness to bow, And own how just and good art thou, And, though thou hidest still thy face, Trust the great love we may not trace!

MY BROTHER JAMES AND I
WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A BEREAVED BROTHER.
We were playmates long together, By the brook and on the hill, In the golden, summer weather, When the days were long and still; We were playmates in the firelight While the winter eyes went by, And we shared one couch at midnight-- My brother James and I!
We were schoolmates, too, together, In the after years that came, And in toil, or task, or pleasure, Ours was still one heart, one aim; Hand in hand we struggled sunward Toward fair Science' temple high Aiding each the other onward-- My brother James and I!
We were men at last together-- Oh, the well remembered time, When we left the dear, old homestead In our early manhood's prime! Even then not disunited, Went we forth with courage high To one aim and effort plighted-- My brother James and I!
But at length there came a shadow Dark with signs of change and blight Deep'ning silently but surely To a long and