WHY?

Why should not we all understand
The laws of life, of living?
That everything in Nature’s works
Is sending forth, and giving.
She gives her life to help mankind,
She to the world gives beauty,
And it is given ungrudgingly,
And not because ’tis duty.
O let us try to emulate
Dear Nature in her giving,
Instead of thorns, give roses sweet;
Then life will be worth living.
Send loving thoughts out to the world,
Your cup returns o’erflowing;
You’ll find it holds no bitter dregs
If good you are bestowing.

LIBERTY.

A little dove impatient grew,
And weary of his bars.
He longed to break his prison bonds,
And soar among the stars.
He beat his wings against the bars,
And vainly tried to break
The door of his small prison house.
That freedom he might take.
For liberty he ever sought,
He did not love his home.
He ever wished that he was free
Around the world to roam.
The little dove most weary was;
Unhappy and distraught.
O why should he a prisoner be?
For liberty he fought.
But all in vain, he could not break
The bars that held him fast.
The future seemed as dark to him
As had been all his past.
At last with broken, bleeding wings,
He fell to earth in death.
For freedom sweet, for liberty,
He cried with his last breath.

MY SOUL AND I.

My soul and I a warfare waged,
Which had the right of way?
Precedence was a law laid down,
Which one should it obey.
I claimed that I was first on earth,
My soul put in the plea
That I was but the home for him;
He claimed eternity.
We argued long, and earnestly,
But argued all in vain.
Each one was sure that he was right,
No point did either gain.
So worn was I with argument
I closed my eyes to earth.
How long I slept I do not know.
I wakened to new birth.
I looked around for my lost soul—
Had it the victory won?
I looked within, and then I found
My soul and I were one.
Were one on earth, are one in heav’n,
The body is not I,
’Tis but the garment of the soul,
And in the grave must lie.
But soul lives on, forever on,
’Tis even one with God;
It permeates all life, all space,
Arising from its clod
A spirit of the universe,—
A light which never dies.
For soul is all creation,
And in the grave ne’er lies.

FORSAKEN.

They say that thou art false to me.
It is not true, it cannot be.
I loved thee once, I love thee yet;
O dearest! canst thou me forget?
I loved thee e’en when first we met,
And even now do not regret
The love for thee that fills my heart.
Wilt thou O dearest from me part?
O hath another won thy heart?
Must I alone endure the smart
That cometh from thy broken vow?
If I must suffer, so must thou.
The past is dead, and buried deep,
For thee my love I can but weep.
Though sad the day that first we met,
That past, for me, holds no regret.
E’en though thou lov’st another now,
Again thou’lt break thy troth, thy vow.
Thy fickle heart e’er fickle be
Through time, and through eternity.
Thou seemest not so happy now,
As when to me thou mad’st thy vow
That sometime thou wouldst be my bride,
And thy dear self to me confide.
The memory of that past is dear,
Though lying on sad memory’s bier.
And now farewell, “I love thee still,
Against my wish, against my will.”
The future holds no joy for me
If I am parted dear from thee.
Farewell! Farewell! I give thee up.
The dregs of life I now must sup.
But loving thee, I can forgive.
Without thy love, I cannot live.
Alone, forsaken, and bereft,
There’s naught on earth for me now left.
Farewell! farewell! our past is dead,
All happiness from me hath fled.
The dreary future must be met;
I find that I can not forget.
I think that thou wilt love me dear,
When I am dead, and o’er my bier
Thou bendest down to look at me.
My heart will then from grief be free.

FAREWELL.

My lover of the past, farewell!
I do not thee regret;
For thou hast proven false to me,
And I will thee forget.
I would not turn the wheel of time,
Thy recreant love to gain;
For having once been false to me,
Thou wouldst be false again.
My love a plaything was to thee,
’Twas only for a day;
When weary of the love I gave,
’Twas cast by thee away.
My lover of the past, farewell!
I grieve not for thee now.
When trust is gone, love follows soon
Upon a broken vow.