Poems of the Heart and Home

by Mrs. J. C. Yule

"Farewell! farewell!—ye leave us far behind you—
Us, the lost Hours that would have blessed you so!
Yet, as ye leave us, let our strains remind you
That we, not empty-handed, Heavenward go.
Records we bear of all the good we brought you,—
Of all we offered,-all that ye refused,—
Of all the lessons we in patience taught you,—
Of wasted time, of privilege abused;
To God's tribunal we those records bear,
Sometime, remember, they will meet you there—
Farewell! farewell!"

THE VOICE OF SPRING

I heard a voice—twas the voice of Spring,
Up from the rivulets murmuring,
Singing of freedom,—thus the lay
On the breezes floated away—
"Joy! joy!—the chains that bound us
Now disappear,
Sunlight pours its treasures round us,
Warm, warm and clear,
Onward, speeding onward
To the bright main,
Chainless, free, unfettered,
Are we again!"

I heard a voice—'twas the voice of Spring,
Out from the hill sides whispering,
And a tender strain from the woodland lone
Blended with it in murmurous tone—
"Joy! joy!—the world is waking
From her long rest,—
Earth a glow of warmth is taking
To her chill breast,—
Tiny flower germs, hidden
Long out of sight,
Stealing forth unbidden,
Seek the warm light!"

I heard a voice—'twas the voice of Spring,
Over the waters wandering,
As to the wilds came the song birds back,
Singing still in their homeward track—
"Joy! joy!—we're home returning
To the free hills,
From our long and far sojourning,
Now, to the rills,
To the echoing forest.
Orchard and plain,
With our old-time music,
Speed we again!"

I heard a voice—'twas the voice of Spring,—
Nature, all Nature awoke to sing;
And every valley, and grove, and plain
Had its share in the welcome strain:—
"Joy! joy!—the chains are broken,
Spring smiles again,—
Joy for every blessed token
Of her glad reign,—
Joy on all the waters,
Joy on each shore.—
Sunlight, song, sweet odors,
Welcome once more!"

HONOR TO LABOR

HONOR TO LABOR!—it giveth health;
Honor to labor!—it bringeth wealth;
Honor to labor!—our glorious land
Displayeth its triumphs on every hand.
It has smoothed the plains, laid the forests low,
And brightened the vales with the harvest's glow,—
Reared cities vast with their marts of trade,
Where erst undisturbed lay the woodland shade,—
Brought up from the depths of the teeming mine,
Its treasured stores in the light to shine,—
Sent Commerce forth on his tireless wings
In search of all precious and goodly things—
Forth to the ice-bound Northern seas,
And to bright isles fanned by the Southern breeze,
Where the Orange deepens its sunset dyes,
And the Cocoa ripens 'neath glowing skies,—
To the sunny islands of Austral climes,—
To lands undreamt of in elder times,—
Till every region, and clime, and zone,
Has yielded its treasures to bless our own.

Honor to Labor!—it diveth deep
To dim sea-caves where bright treasures sleep,
And dareth with curious quest explore
The ancient wonders of Ocean's floor.
It fearless roams over Deserts vast,
Where destruction rides on the Simoom's blast,
And trackless sands have for ages frowned
O'er cities in ancient song renowned.
It climbs where the dazzling glaciers lie,
Changeless and cold, 'neath a glowing sky,
And leaves the trace of its triumphs proud
Above the regions of storm and cloud.

The Ocean, once an untravelled waste,
By feet adventurous never passed,
Spread forth to the solemn skies alone
Its restless waters to man unknown.
Imagination, with eager quest,
Went forth o'er its bosom with vague unrest,
To loneliest regions devoid of light,
Where dark Cimmerii dwelt in night,—
Or peopled its realms, undiscovered, lone,
With phantoms of horror and shapes unknown.