| Sweet is the voice that calls |
| From babbling waterfalls |
| In meadows where the downy seeds are flying; |
| And soft the breezes blow, |
| And eddying come and go |
| In faded gardens where the rose is dying. |
| |
| Among the stubbled corn |
| The blithe quail pipes at morn, |
| The merry partridge drums in hidden places, |
| And glittering insects gleam |
| Above the reedy stream, |
| Where busy spiders spin their filmy laces. |
| |
| At eve, cool shadows fall |
| Across the garden wall, |
| And on the clustered grapes to purple turning; |
| And pearly vapors lie |
| Along the eastern sky, |
| Where the broad harvest-moon is redly burning. |
| |
| Ah, soon on field and hill |
| The wind shall whistle chill, |
| And patriarch swallows call their flocks together, |
| To fly from frost and snow, |
| And seek for lands where blow |
| The fairer blossoms of a balmier weather. |
| |
| The cricket chirps all day, |
| "O fairest summer, stay!" |
| The squirrel eyes askance the chestnuts browning; |
| The wild fowl fly afar |
| Above the foamy bar, |
| And hasten southward ere the skies are frowning. |
| |
| Now comes a fragrant breeze |
| Through the dark cedar-trees |
| And round about my temples fondly lingers, |
| In gentle playfulness, |
| Like to the soft caress |
| Bestowed in happier days by loving fingers. |
| |
| Yet, though a sense of grief |
| Comes with the falling leaf, |
| And memory makes the summer doubly pleasant, |
| In all my autumn dreams |
| A future summer gleams, |
| Passing the fairest glories of the present! |
| |
| George Arnold. |
| Far back, in my musings, my thoughts have been cast |
| To the cot where the hours of my childhood were passed. |
| I loved all its rooms from the pantry to hall, |
| But the blessed old kitchen was dearer than all. |
| Its chairs and its tables no brighter could be |
| And all its surroundings were sacred to me, |
| From the nail in the ceiling to the latch on the door, |
| And I loved every crack in that old kitchen floor. |
| |
| I remember the fireplace with mouth high and wide |
| And the old-fashioned oven that stood by its side |
| Out of which each Thanksgiving came puddings and pies |
| And they fairly bewildered and dazzled our eyes. |
| And then old St. Nicholas slyly and still |
| Came down every Christmas our stockings to fill. |
| But the dearest of memories laid up in store |
| Is my mother a-sweeping that old kitchen floor. |
| |
| To-night those old musings come back at their will |
| But the wheel and its music forever are still. |
| The band is moth-eaten, the wheel laid away, |
| And the fingers that turned it are mold'ring in clay. |
| The hearthstone so sacred is just as 'twas then |
| And the voices of children ring out there again. |
| The sun at the window looks in as of yore, |
| But it sees other feet on that old kitchen floor. |
| The night was dark when Sam set out |
| To court old Jones's daughter; |
| He kinder felt as if he must, |
| And kinder hadn't oughter. |
| His heart against his waistcoat throbbed, |
| His feelings had a tussle, |
| Which nearly conquered him despite |
| Six feet of bone and muscle. |
| |
| The candle in the window shone |
| With a most doleful glimmer, |
| And Sam he felt his courage ooze, |
| And through his fingers simmer. |
| Says he: "Now, Sam, don't be a fool, |
| Take courage, shaking doubter, |
| Go on, and pop the question right, |
| For you can't live without her." |
| |
| But still, as he drew near the house, |
| His knees got in a tremble, |
| The beating of his heart ne'er beat |
| His efforts to dissemble. |
| Says he: "Now, Sam, don't be a goose, |
| And let the female wimmin |
| Knock all your thoughts a-skelter so, |
| And set your heart a-swimmin'." |
| |
| So Sam, he kinder raised the latch, |
| His courage also raising, |
| And in a moment he sat inside, |
| Cid Jones's crops a-praising. |
| He tried awhile to talk the farm |
| In words half dull, half witty, |
| Not knowing that old Jones well knew |
| His only thought was—Kitty. |
| |
| At last the old folks went to bed— |
| The Joneses were but human; |
| Old Jones was something of a man, |
| And Mrs. Jones—a woman. |
| And Kitty she the pitcher took, |
| And started for the cellar; |
| It wasn't often that she had |
| So promising a feller. |
| |
| And somehow when she came upstairs, |
| And Sam had drank his cider, |
| There seemed a difference in the chairs, |
| And Sam was close beside her; |
| His stalwart arm dropped round her waist, |
| Her head dropped on his shoulder, |
| And Sam—well, he had changed his tune |
| And grown a trifle bolder. |
| |
| But this, if you live long enough, |
| You surely will discover, |
| There's nothing in this world of ours |
| Except the loved and lover. |
| The morning sky was growing gray |
| As Sam the farm was leaving, |
| His face was surely not the face |
| Of one half grieved, or grieving. |
| |
| And Kitty she walked smiling back, |
| With blushing face, and slowly; |
| There's something in the humblest love |
| That makes it pure and holy. |
| And did he marry her, you ask? |
| She stands there with the ladle |
| A-skimming of the morning's milk— |
| That's Sam who rocks the cradle. |
| 'Tis a cold, bleak night! with angry roar |
| The north winds beat and clamor at the door; |
| The drifted snow lies heaped along the street, |
| Swept by a blinding storm of hail and sleet; |
| The clouded heavens no guiding starlight lend |
| But o'er the earth in gloom and darkness bend; |
| Gigantic shadows, by the night lamps thrown, |
| Dance their weird revels fitfully alone. |
| |
| In lofty halls, where fortune takes its ease, |
| Sunk in the treasures of all lands and seas; |
| In happy homes, where warmth and comfort meet |
| The weary traveler with their smiles to greet; |
| In lowly dwellings, where the needy swarm |
| Round starving embers, chilling limbs to warm, |
| Rises the prayer that makes the sad heart light— |
| "Thank God for home, this bitter, bitter night!" |
| |
| But hark! above the beating of the storm |
| Peals on the startled ear the fire alarm. |
| Yon gloomy heaven's aflame with sudden light, |
| And heart-beats quicken with a strange affright; |
| From tranquil slumbers springs, at duty's call, |
| The ready friend no danger can appall; |
| Fierce for the conflict, sturdy, true, and brave, |
| He hurries forth to battle and to save. |
| |
| From yonder dwelling, fiercely shooting out, |
| Devouring all they coil themselves about, |
| The flaming furies, mounting high and higher, |
| Wrap the frail structure in a cloak of fire. |
| Strong arms are battling with the stubborn foe |
| In vain attempts their power to overthrow; |
| With mocking glee they revel with their prey, |
| Defying human skill to check their way. |
| |
| And see! far up above the flame's hot breath, |
| Something that's human waits a horrid death; |
| A little child, with waving golden hair, |
| Stands, like a phantom, 'mid the horrid glare,— |
| Her pale, sweet face against the window pressed, |
| While sobs of terror shake her tender breast. |
| And from the crowd beneath, in accents wild, |
| A mother screams, "O God! my child! my child!" |
| |
| Up goes a ladder. Through the startled throng |
| A hardy fireman swiftly moves along; |
| Mounts sure and fast along the slender way, |
| Fearing no danger, dreading but delay. |
| The stifling smoke-clouds lower in his path, |
| Sharp tongues of flame assail him in their wrath; |
| But up, still up he goes! the goal is won! |
| His strong arm beats the sash, and he is gone! |
| |
| Gone to his death. The wily flames surround |
| And burn and beat his ladder to the ground, |
| In flaming columns move with quickened beat |
| To rear a massive wall 'gainst his retreat. |
| Courageous heart, thy mission was so pure, |
| Suffering humanity must thy loss deplore; |
| Henceforth with martyred heroes thou shalt live, |
| Crowned with all honors nobleness can give. |
| |
| Nay, not so fast; subdue these gloomy fears; |
| Behold! he quickly on the roof appears, |
| Bearing the tender child, his jacket warm |
| Flung round her shrinking form to guard from harm, |
| Up with your ladders! Quick! 'tis but a chance! |
| Behold, how fast the roaring flames advance! |
| Quick! quick! brave spirits, to his rescue fly; |
| Up! up! by heavens, this hero must not die! |
| |
| Silence! he comes along the burning road, |
| Bearing, with tender care, his living load; |
| Aha! he totters! Heaven in mercy save |
| The good, true heart that can so nobly brave! |
| He's up again! and now he's coming fast— |
| One moment, and the fiery ordeal's passed— |
| And now he's safe! Bold flames, ye fought in vain. |
| A happy mother clasps her child again. |
| |
| George M. Baker. |