OCTOBER.
Crimson-and-gold, October’s boughs proclaim
The approaching Passion of the waning year;
By sacramental signs, for aye the same,
Pathetic portents show the end is near.
The landscape lessens in the shimmering haze;
The songless silence chants the season’s grief;—
Too soon shall follow, with the darkening days,
The fading field-flower and the falling leaf.
No more allures the lovely glade or glen;
A nameless sorrow haunts the lonely shore;
The frosts have fallen on the hearts of men;
The little children seek the woods no more.
For Nature holds us surely as her own,
In sleet and snow, or under skies of blue;
From birth to death we share her mirth or moan,—
Forever to our faithful mother true.
Yet, in our loneliest hours, alike we feel
The comfort Heaven to wood and wold supplies,—
A hope that doth the season’s sadness heal
And binds us closer still, in tenderest ties.
A kindred impulse stirs our common dust
To look beyond the winter’s dearth and dole,
And find in God, our Life, our Strength, our Trust,
The everlasting summer of the soul.
THE WINDOW OVER THE STABLE-DOOR.
An Idyl of the Common Life.
From the window over the stable-door,
Hark! how the notes of gladness pour!
Like playful brook, their free, clear flow,—
But why such joy I do not know;
For ’tis the coachman’s humble cot;—
The horses share his lowly lot:—
The same roof shelters beast and man;—
So prudently doth Dives plan!
Who here would look to see enshrin’d
A happy heart, a peaceful mind?
The fact exceeds my fancy’s range,—
Yet ’tis as true as it is strange;—
For hark! how the notes of gladness pour
Through the window over the stable-door!
In such secluded spot, I fear
’T were sacrilege to venture near;—
Half guiltily I close the book,
And turn, unseen, an eager look
To the window over the stable-door,
Whence still those notes of gladness pour.
Ah! now the meaning plain I see
Of that sweet-throated mystery;—
For, rocking softly to and fro,
With fair, fine forehead bending low,
A mother lulls to slumber blest
Her first-born babe upon her breast.
A lovelier sight, through leafy screen,
By faun or fairy ne’er was seen;
And never more melodious word
The sylvan silence ever stirred.
Not hers to see the grace she wears,—
Nor hers to dream the peace she bears,
By such a blessed minstrelsy,
Into the world’s wide misery;—
But all unconsciously each thought
Is into melting music wrought.
She does not hear the song she sings,—
Nor can she know the bliss it brings,
Far, far beyond her babe, to me,—
A life’s space from a mother’s knee!
It tells me of a heart at rest,
A quiet mind, contented, blest,—
A little paradise, shut in
From envy, vanity, and sin.
She meekly shares her husband’s lot,
And sanctifies this humble spot
With trustful, sweet simplicity,
In all her girlhood’s purity,—
With word and look from murmuring free,
And love’s unmeasured ministry.
Hark! how the notes of gladness pour
From the window over the stable door!
And now as soft as vesper bells,
The soul’s deep song more faintly swells.
Is it because, the while she sings,
Like Mary, pondering “these things,”
She thinks of angels far away,
And Him who in a manger lay?—
The Blessed Babe the Virgin press’d
Adoringly to her pure breast?
The Holy Child, forever dear,—
The Son of God, forever near,—
The loving Christ, whose kingdom, sure,
Is in the bosoms of the poor;—
Who passed from out the stable-door
All souls to serve, on sea or shore,
And rule all worlds forevermore.
“HAIL TO THE CHIEF!”
(William McKinley.)
Niagara-like the welcome which awaits
The Nation’s Chief, approaching now our gates;
From depths sincere the People’s joy shall pour
Like many waters thundering on the shore,
As to her heart her honored Guest she takes,—
The Town we love,—the Empress of the Lakes!
Nor ours alone the President to greet;—
The North, the South, the East, the West, here meet,—
Each Commonwealth contributing its share
Of honor due, beneath one banner fair:—
Brothers forevermore, from sea to sea,—
One country dear, one hope, one destiny!
Nor even here shall the wide welcome end;—
Beyond our bounds its ardour shall extend;
For neighboring Nations, each American,
Admire with us the President, the man!
And, sharing with delight the common feast,
Shall feel anew their noblest aims increased.
City of Light! Crown-jewel of our fame!
Throw wide your gates to him of blameless name;—
With peerless pageant swell the rising tide
Of grateful joy and patriotic pride.
Rehearse the thrilling history once more:—
Manila’s bay and Santiago’s shore!
Let glowing dome and pennoned turret tell,
To God’s sole praise, the matchless miracle.
Nor fail to voice the Present’s mighty plan,
And justify the name American!
Saxon, or Latin-born,—we’re all one blood:—
The Exposition stands for brotherhood.
So may the morrow dawn,—so pass away,
In cheer prophetic of our widening sway;—
And when the evening’s deepening shadows fall,
And heaven’s sweet silence broodeth over all,
May the blest memories of the day be blent
In that fair Vision in mid-firmament,
The Tower of Light! Niagara’s flood in flame!
The radiant symbol of our Future’s fame:—
Pledge of an age whose light shall never cease,—
The boundless empire of the Prince of Peace!
The above lines were written September 3, 1901, and printed the following afternoon in the Buffalo Commercial, an hour or two before President McKinley’s arrival in the city the evening before “President’s Day” at the Pan-American Exposition.
B. C.
CUBA LIBRE.
(Tune: Maryland, My Maryland.)
The work is wrought; the cannon’s roar
On sea or land is heard no more;
The battle’s rage and tumult cease
In songs of victory and peace.
The Heaven-appointed task is done;
The cause for which we fought is won;
And Cuba Libre, fairest gem,
Is set in Freedom’s diadem!
Havana’s waters, blue and broad,
Reflect the righteousness of God;
And Santiago’s wreck-strewn shore
Resounds His praise for evermore.
The islands of the sea rejoice;
The floods lift up their mighty voice;
From shore to shore the anthems rise,—
A nation’s grateful sacrifice.
Long as the stars shall shine o’erhead,
In deathless fame shall live the dead;
Their country’s glory and renown
Their fadeless, everlasting crown.
The morning breaks! the shadows flee!
Christ’s kingdom comes on land and sea:—
The rule of love, the reign of good,—
The whole round world one brotherhood!