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THE AULD DOCTOR. O' a' the jobs that sweat the sarkGie me a kintra doctor's wark,Ye ca' awa' frae dawn till dark,Whate'er the weather be, O! Some tinkler wife is in the strae,Your boots are owre the taps wi' clayThrough wadin' bog an' sklimmin' braeThe besom for to see, O! Ye ken auld Jock o' Windybarns?The bull had near ca'ed oot his... more...

THE SYLVAN CABIN A CENTENARY ODE ON THE BIRTH OF LINCOLNIO, fairest Dame of sylvan glades,We come to pay thee homage due,Embrace thee softly and to kissThy lovely, long-forsaken cheeks;To smooth thy flowing silver locksAnd bind about thy snowy neckA necklace golden studded fullWith rarest gems and shining pearls.Our eyes, though sometimes dimmed with tears,In purer lustre sparkle forthWhene'er... more...

In the Factory Oh, here in the shop the machines roar so wildly,That oft, unaware that I am, or have been,I sink and am lost in the terrible tumult;And void is my soul… I am but a machine.I work and I work and I work, never ceasing;Create and create things from morning till e'en;For what?—and for whom—Oh, I know not! Oh, ask not!Who ever has heard of a conscious machine? No, here is no... more...

No one can have reflected on the history of genius without being impressed with a melancholy feeling at the obscurity in which the lives of the poets of our country are, with few exceptions, involved. That they lived, and wrote, and died, comprises nearly all that is known of many, and, of others, the few facts which are preserved are often records of privations, or sufferings, or errors. The cause of... more...

THE MOUNTAIN SPRING And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.—Revelation 22:17.I wandered down a mountain road,Past flower and rock and lichen gray,Alone with nature and her GodUpon a flitting summer day.The forest skirted to the edgeOf Capon river, Hampshire's gem,Which, bathing many a primrose ledge,Oft sparkled like a diadem.At length a... more...

THE piping of our slender, peaceful reedsWhispers uncared for while the trumpets bray;Song is thin air; our hearts' exulting playBeats time but to the tread of marching deeds,Following the mighty van that Freedom leads,Her glorious standard flaming to the day!The crimsoned pavement where a hero bleedsBreathes nobler lessons than the poet's lay.Strong arms, broad breasts, brave hearts, are... more...

PREFACE To the readers of this poem an apology is needed for affixing thereto a praem. Some friends of mine have been plaguing me beyond the restrictive line of Patience for the true cause of conceiving the accompanying collection of words, balderdash or what you will, some even asseverating with the eruditeness of an Aristole that it was a nebulous idea, an embryonic form of thought hibernating within... more...

BEST NONSENSE VERSES FATHER WILLIAM OU are old, father William," the young man said,"And your hair has become very white:And yet you incessantly stand on your head—Do you think, at your age, it is right?" "In my youth," father William replied to his son,"I feared it might injure the brain:But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,Why, I do it again and again."... more...

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. ON THE MORNING OF CHRISTS NATIVITY.Compos'd 1629. I This is the Month, and this the happy mornWherin the Son of Heav'ns eternal King,Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born,Our great redemption from above did bring;For so the holy sages once did sing,That he our deadly forfeit should release,And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. II That glorious Form, that Light... more...

Over Here Pledged to the bravest and the best,We stand, who cannot share the fray,Staunch for the danger and the test.For them at night we kneel and pray.Be with them, Lord, who serve the truth,And make us worthy of our youth! Here mother-love and father-loveUnite in love of country now;Here to the flag that flies above,Our heads we reverently bow;Here as one people, night and day,For victory we work... more...