When shall we meet again?
One more year passed;
One more of grief and pain;—
Maybe the last.
Are the years sending us
Farther apart?
Or love still blending us
Heart into heart?
Do love's fond memories
Brighten the way,
Or faith's fell enemies
Darken thy day?
Oh! could the word unkind
Be recalled now,
Or in the years behind
Buried lie low,
How would my heart rejoice
As round it fell,
Sweet cadence of thy voice,
Still loved so well.
Sometimes when sad it seems
Whisperings say:
"Cherish thy baseless dreams,
Yet whilst thou may,
Try not to pierce the veil,
Lest thou should'st see,
Only a dark'ning vale
Stretching for thee."
But Hope's mist-shrouded sun
Once more breaks out,
Chasing the shadows dim,
Heavy with doubt.
And far ahead I see,
Two rays entwine;
One faint, as soul of me,
One bright like thine.
And in that welcome sign,
Clearly I view,
Proof of this trust of mine,—
Thou art still true.
Shiver the Goblet.
Shiver the goblet and scatter the wine!
Tempt me no more with the sight!
I care not though brightly as ruby it shine,
Like a serpent I know it will bite.
Give me the clustering fruit of the vine,—
Heap up my dish if you will,—
But banish the poison that lurks in the wine,
That dulls reason and fetters the will.
Oft has it lured me to deeds I detest,—
Filled me with passions debased;
Robbed me of all that was dearest and best,
And left scars that can ne'er be effaced.
Oh! that the generous rich would but think,
As they scatter their wealth far and wide,
Of the evil that lives in the ocean of drink,
Of the thousands that sink in its tide.
They give of their substance to help the poor wretch,
The victim of custom and laws;
But never attempt the strong arm to outstretch,
To try to abolish the cause.
The preacher as well may his eloquence spare,
Nor his tales of "glad tidings" need tell,
If by precepts he urge them for heaven to prepare,
Whilst his practice leads downward to hell.
Erect new asylums and hospitals raise,—
Build prisons for creatures of sin;—
Can these be a means to improve the world's ways?
Or one soul from destruction e'er win?
No!—License the cause and encourage the sale
Of the evil one's strongest ally,
And in vain then lament that the curse should prevail,—
And in vain o'er the fallen ones sigh.
Strike the black blot from the laws of the land!
And take the temptation away;
Then give to the struggling and weak one's a hand,
To pilot them on the safe way.
Can brewers, distillers, or traffickers pray
For the blessing of God, on the seed
Which they sow for the harvest of men gone astray?
Of ruin, the fruit of their greed?
No bonds can be forged the drink-demon to bind,
That will hinder its power for ill;
For a way to work mischief it surely will find,
Let us watch and contrive as we will.
Then drive out the monster! The plague-breathing pest;
And so long as our bodies have breath,
Let us fight the good fight, never stopping for rest,
Till at last we rejoice o'er its death.
Little Sunshine.
Winsome, wee and witty,
Like a little fay,
Carolling her ditty
All the livelong day,
Saucy as a sparrow
In the summer glade,
Flitting o'er the meadow
Came the little maid.
A youth big and burly,
Loitered near the stile,
He had risen early,
Just to win her smile.
And she came towards him
Trying to look grave,
But she couldn't do it,
Not her life to save.
For the fun within her,
Well'd out from her eyes,
And the tell-tale blushes
To her brow would rise.
Then he gave her greeting,
And with bashful bow,
Said in tones entreating,
"Darling tell me now,
You are all the sunshine,
This world holds for me;
Be my little valentine,
I have come for thee."
But she only tittered
When he told his love,
And the gay birds twittered
On the boughs above;
He continued pleading,
Calling her his sun—
Said his heart was bleeding,—
Which seemed famous fun.
Then he turned to leave her.
But she caught his hand,
And its gentle pressure
Made him understand,
That in spite of teasing,
He her heart had won,
And through life hereafter,
She would be his sun.