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And mamma has gone to her.

But the question lies unanswered
In our little Jamie's mind,

Why she should go to our mother,
And leave her children behind;

To dwell in that lovely city,
From all that was dear to part,

From children who loved to nestle
So closely around her heart.

Dear child, like you, we are puzzled,
With problems that still remain;

But think in the great hereafter
Their meaning will all be plain.

TRUTH.
A rock, for ages, stern and high,

Stood frowning 'gainst the earth and sky,
And never bowed his haughty crest

When angry storms around him prest.
Morn, springing from the arms of night,

Had often bathed his brow with light.
TRUTH. 37

And kissed the shadows from his face
With tender love and gentle grace.

Day, pausing at the gates of rest,
Smiled on him from the distant West,

And from her throne the dark-browed Night
Threw round his path her softest light.

And yet he stood unmoved and proud,
Nor love, nor wrath, his spirit bowed;

He bared his brow to every blast
And scorned the tempest as it passed.

One day a tiny, humble seed--
The keenest eye would hardly heed--

Fell trembling at that stern rock's base,
And found a lowly hiding-place.

A ray of light, and drop of dew,
Came with a message, kind and true;

They told her of the world so bright,
Its love, its joy, and rosy light,

And lured her from her hiding-place,
To gaze upon earth's glorious face.

So, peeping timid from the ground,
She clasped the ancient rock around,

And climbing up with childish grace,
She held him with a close embrace;

38 DEATH OF THE OLD SEA KING.
Her clinging was a thing of dread;

Where'er she touched a fissure spread,
And he who'd breasted many a storm

Stood frowning there, a mangled form;
A Truth, dropped in the silent earth,

May seem a thing of little worth,
Till, spreading round some mighty wrong,

It saps its pillars proud and strong,
And o'er the fallen ruin weaves

The brightest blooms and fairest leaves.
DEATH OF THE OLD SEA KING.

'Twas a fearful night--the tempest raved
With loud and wrathful pride,

The storm-king harnessed his lightning steeds,
And rode on the raging tide.

The sea-king lay on his bed of death,
Pale mourners around him bent;

They knew the wild and fitful life
Of their chief was almost spent.

His ear was growing dull in death
When the angry storm he heard,

DEATH OF THE OLD SEA KING. 39
The sluggish blood in the old man's veins

With sudden vigor stirred.
"I hear them call," cried the dying man,

His eyes grew full of light;
"Now bring me here my warrior robes,

My sword and armor bright.
"In the tempest's lull I heard a voice,

I knew 'twas Odin's call.
The Valkyrs are gathering round my bed

To lead me unto his hall.
"Bear me unto my noblest ship,

Light up a funeral pyre;
I'll walk to the palace of the braves

Through a path of flame and fire."
Oh! wild and bright was the stormy light

That flashed from the old man's eye,
As they bore him from the couch of death

To his battle-ship to die,
And lit with many a mournful torch

The sea-king's dying bed,
And like a banner fair and bright

The flames around him spread.
40 SAVE THE BOYS.

But they heard no cry of anguish
Break through that fiery wall,

With rigid brow and silent lips
He was seeking Odin's hall.

Through a path of fearful splendor,
While strong men held their breath,

The brave old man went boldly forth
And calmly talked with death.

SAVE THE BOYS.
Like Dives in the deeps of Hell

I cannot break this fearful spell,
Nor quench the fires I've madly nursed,

Nor cool this dreadful raging thirst.
Take back your pledge--ye come too late!

Ye cannot save me from my fate,
Nor bring me back departed joys;

But ye can try to save the boys.
Ye bid me break my fiery chain,

Arise and be a man again,
SAVE THE BOYS. 41

When every street with snares is spread,
And nets of sin where'er I tread.

No; I must reap as I did sow.
The seeds of sin bring crops of woe;

But with my latest breath I'll crave
That ye will try the boys to save.

These bloodshot eyes were once so bright;
This sin-crushed heart was glad and light;

But by the wine-cup's ruddy glow
I traced a path to shame and woe.

A captive to my galling chain,
I've tried to rise, but tried in vain--

The cup allures and then destroys.
Oh! from its thraldom save the boys.

Take from your streets those traps of hell
Into whose gilded snares I fell.

Oh! freemen, from these foul decoys
Arise, and vote to save the boys.

Oh, ye who license men to trade
In draughts that charm and then degrade,

Before ye hear the cry, Too late,
Oh, save the boys from my sad fate.

42 NOTHING AND SOMETHING.
NOTHING AND SOMETHING.

It is nothing to me, the beauty said,
With a careless toss of her pretty head;

The man is weak if he can't refrain
From the cup you say is fraught with pain.

It was something to her in after years,
When her eyes were drenched with burning

tears,
And she watched in lonely grief and dread,

And startled to hear a staggering tread.
It is nothing to me, the mother said;

I have no fear that my boy will tread
In the downward path of sin and shame,

And crush my heart and darken his name.
It was something to her when that only son

From the path of right was early won,
And madly cast in the flowing bowl

A ruined body and sin-wrecked soul.
It is nothing to me, the young man cried:

In his eye was a flash of scorn and pride;
I heed not the dreadful things ye tell:

I can rule myself I know full well.
NOTHING AND SOMETHING. 43

It was something to him when in prison he lay
The victim of drink, life ebbing away;

And thought of his wretched child and wife,
And the mournful wreck of his wasted life.

It is nothing to me, the merchant said,
As over his ledger he bent his head;

I'm busy to-day with tare and tret,
And I have no time to fume and fret.

It was something to him when over the wire
A message came from a funeral pyre--

A drunkenconductor had wrecked a train,
And his wife and child were among the slain.

It is nothing to me, the voter said,
The party's loss is my greatest dread;

Then gave his vote for the liquor trade,
Though hearts were crushed and drunkards

made.
It was something to him in after life,

When his daughter became a drunkard's wife
And her hungry children cried for bread,

And trembled to hear their father's tread.
Is it nothing for us to idly sleep

While the cohorts of death their vigils keep?
To gather the young and thoughtless in,

And grind in our midst a grist of sin?
44 VASHTI.

It is something, yes, all, for us to stand
Clasping by faith our Saviour's hand;

To learn to labor, live and fight
On the side of God and changeless light.

VASHTI.
She leaned her head upon her hand

And heard the King's decree--
"My lords are feasting in my halls;

Bid Vashti come to me.
"I've shown the treasures of my house,

My costly jewels rare,
But with the glory of her eyes

No rubies can compare.
"Adorn'd and crown'd I'd have her come,

With all her queenly grace,
And, 'mid my lords and mighty men,

Unveil her lovely face.
"Each gem that sparkles in my crown,



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