George E. Merkley

“ Bore the seal of the grave on its delicate mould.
V.
There was Misery’s tear, there was Gladness and Mirth,
There was Grief that bowed low at the desolate hearth,—
But the bright bow rose high up to heaven above,
And clasped all beneath in its ardor of love.
VI.
And I thought, O sweet emblem of glory and grace,
Of a Love that clasps all in its fervent embrace;—
Or the sunshine of life, or the gloom of the pall,
The living, the dead, it encircles them all. ”

“ Like the spell of enchantment which fairies would weave,
To fetter the victim they mean to deceive.
II.
’Tis vain to resist them: by day and by night
They impart to the soul a deep, quiet delight,
And we feel that their language the sense overpowers,
As the air when oppressed with the perfume of flowers.
III.
When sorrow’s dark shadows come like a death pall,
And the dead leaves of hope by adversity fall,
They come o’er the desert that looms in the heart,
And a newness, a freshness, a verdure impart. ”

“ The Broken Mirror. I.
IN my chamber of gloom and sadness,
A broken mirror lies;
It gleams with a boding madness,
Like the light from a thousand eyes;
And I know not what evil spirit
Hath spread its sombre wing,
That my fate should ever merit
So sad a happening.
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II.
Oh, once its case of amber
Flashed a glory o’er the walls!
But now in my dreary chamber
The sunlight never falls;
For shattered and broken forever
Lies that mirror on the floor,
And the peace I once knew shall never
Return to my bosom more! ”

“ Still watched Irene; the bright moon higher rose,
And swung above the vale beneath a cloud.
“How like the orb of hope that rising glows
Fair, ’neath some sullen gloom that would enshroud
All that is bright in life!” Thus, half aloud,
The maiden spoke; then silence fell again,
And the soft light gleamed o’er her head, as bowed
She ’neath that aching, sinking sense of pain,
When hope hath sunk from view, and life itself is vain. ”

“ And ever must throb ’neath a burden of care.
IV.
My heart, that once beat with a rapid emotion,
Now droops like the vine in the winter’s cold blast;
Its tendrils have withered, and weary its motion,
As the dirges, recoiling, sweep moaningly past.
V.
No more o’er the days of my childhood I’ll ponder,
No more o’er those scenes which I once held so dear;
But, with grief my allotment, I’ll drearily wander
Life’s dark vale of gloom but a while—yet fore’er.
VI.
The sunbeams they come—but they melt not my sadness ”

“ Thus then the turbulent dust arose ’neath the feet of the warriors
Rose in the air from the earth, as through the vast plain they swept onward.
ILIAD VI. 146-149.
As bloom the leaves of the trees, so spring the races of mankind—
Scattered for aye are the leaves by the blasts of one autumn,
Yet do the trees bloom anew when spring-time returns in her glory,—
Budding anew, but to wither and fall with the blasts of the autumn;
Thus are the races of man—now bloom they, and now they lie scattered. ”

“ Ambition’s full tide clearly flows,
And the winds, half oppressed with perfume, breathe so soft
Till the broad summer sun deeply glows.
Then the rivulet shrinks in its cold, flinty bed,
And the winds, with their doleful refrain,
Drift the sere, withered leaves of fond hopes that are dead,
And mourn o’er life’s desolate plain.
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They But Dream Who Believe.
THEY but dream who believe that the heart can be ever
Found true in its fervent devotion,
That naught in the noon-tide of youth can e’er sever
The bonds of enchanting emotion ”

“ And a dull, shadowy gloom anon enshrouds
The leafless forest and the opening glade.
II.
No sound is heard save the soft-chanting waves
Low murmuring on the shadowy-mantled sea,
And the sad, moaning dirges in their caves
Struggling, like fettered spirits, to get free.
III.
But as the day declines, the slanting beams
In mellow lustre shine so calm and pure;
A radiant flood of sunset glory streams,
That lovelier grows and lovelier grows obscure. ”

“ Are hope and happiness,—withered the bloom,
The last flower plucked, but still the stalk lives on,
A living death; the lone sepulchral tomb
Less hopeless is.—Thus fell the blasting doom
Upon Irene. Rayless the gathering night
Which settled o’er her soul engulfed in gloom:
She turned away like one whose vacant sight
All things can dimly see, yet naught can see aright. ”

“ The brave on whose valor the dawn of thy hope first arose;
And should glory decline, and thy day-star fade slowly away,
The sunlight of hope would still linger where’er they repose.
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O’er Crag and O’er Dune. I.
O’ER crag and o’er dune, through the vale and the grove,
Adown the wild rivulet swept,
From fountains unseen, in the caverns above,
Where Winter his night-revels kept;
And loudly it laughed as it eddied and whirled,
Surging round in its gladsome career;
For Spring had come forth with her banners unfurled,
Giving joy, giving joy to the year. ”

“ Dark lowered the tempest that spread o’er his brow,
And like reeds in the wind the tall crags seemed to bow.
II.
But he soon passed away with his storm banners furled,
And a sun-tide of glory burst forth o’er the world,
While around the dark East, ere the dayspring’s decline,
Curved the bright bow of peace with its promise divine.
III.
Beneath the broad arch in the valley below
Lay the home of the rich, lay the cot of the low;
There in beauty secluded the hamlet arose,
And the churchyard beside lay in quiet repose.
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IV.
There the aged were waiting in life’s sunset tide ”

“ There in that archway the dying sunlight would linger,
And tarry longest as if held by some mystical power.
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III.
And oft in the noonday of youth, when the sunlight there lay,
Have I turned my footsteps to pass by that archway, which seemed
To swing wide its portals and welcome the ebb-tide of day,
While the oak trees stood pensive, as though they inwardly dreamed. ”

“ Has infinite secrets enclosed in its breast.
VII.
Can it be that the spirit of genius yet lives,
And to nature this chain of enchantment thus gives;
That the souls of the dead, in this beautiful guise,
Beam out like the light of some love angel’s eyes?
VIII.
Ah, no!—’tis a glory through life’s mist that strays,
Like the dawning of morn through an autumn’s thick haze,
’Tis the light of a glory for ever to shine,
’Tis a something within us—a something divine.
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Compages Ossium.
(Lines composed while looking into an opened grave from my study window.) ”

“ Is drained the dregs of woe!
Yet every sigh of sadness,
And every pang of pain,
Is thrilled with a sense of gladness,
We cannot quite explain,—
But deep where the waters darkle,
And surges ever moan,
True pearls of splendor sparkle
That may deck a kingly crown.
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The Grave of a United Empire Loyalist. I.
ON the brow of a hill two tall oak trees expanding enclose
A deep archway of shadow that clasps in its bosom a tomb;
And oft have I seen as the sun in full glory uprose,
How he peered o’er the steep of the hill through that archway of gloom. ”

“ Cold in the embrace of death the soldier slept for aye.
XXV.
All through the long, long night Irene alone
Her vigil kept, and oft she strove in vain,
Ere the slow-ebbing tide of life had gone,
With gentle touch to chase away dull Pain
Which o’er the soldier’s brow his heavy chain
Had thrown. But, oh! it seemed as though
The weight of three-score years of Sorrow’s reign
Had fallen upon her life;—that night of woe,
Had turned her raven hair white as the wintry snow!
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A Fable in Two Cantos. PRELUDE.
LIFE is a riddle, deep, majestic, grand,
For all to solve, but few to understand ”

“ In agony. The gaping wound undressed
Was pouring out his life. My heart grows chill
Even yet; O God! I thought how slight a thing can kill.
XVII.
“I stooped beside and strove to staunch the wound.
‘ ’Tis vain,’ he said, ‘a trust I’ll give to thee.’
He bade me loose a packet which was bound
Beneath his cloak. ‘I charge thee take,’ said he,
‘This token to the one who gave it me;
Her picture it contains. Tell her I died
While at the post of duty. Thou mayest see
Her name within.’ He turned upon his side,
And slowly ebbed away life’s dim-receding tide. ”

“ As oft would rise and ebb life’s surging tide,
To check the pulse, to soothe the heart’s distress,
To minister the potion that would hide
Anguish and pain in deep forgetfulness;—
Irene performed the while such task of tenderness.
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VI.
Hers was an aspect singularly mild,
With radiant brow deep-arched, obscurely clear,
And dark affrayed eyes, half-meek, half-wild,
That told the fount of pity welling near.
Twice gazed you on that face ere ’twould appear
That Time had all too early cast his pall
O’er the bright blooms that Youth and Beauty wear ”

“ Loud thereupon rose the twang of the silver bow’s dreadful rebounding—
Far sped the death-bearing darts; first perished the mules and the fleet dogs,
Then at the Greeks did the angered god straightway aim his arrows—
Dismal by night flared the gleaming red of the funeral pyres.
ILIAD I. 528-539.
Spake the son of Kronos, the while with his dark brows nodding assent—
Straightway ambrosial locks did stream from the head of the Sovereign,
How at that nod did mighty Olympus shake to its centre! ”

“ And oft have I gazed on those sad eyes of thine,
Where beauty’s soft lustre seems ever to shine,
And have thought that the tears of the just may yet bloom
In fragrance and beauty beyond the dark tomb.
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Transition. I.
I AROSE at that dim-lined hour,
When the day and the morning meet;
And I passed by the city tower,
Far, far through the dusty street.
And I went by meadows and fountains
Till I came where frowning high,
A range of towering mountains
Hid their summits in the sky. ”

“ No flowers bloomed there; why should flowers be ever found blowing
O’er dust that knew naught of life’s joys? why should flowers bloom there?
VI.
I remember the rude timbered bier, that sad emblem of death,
As it stood o’er the grave with its purpose fulfilled evermore;
Around it grew dank weeds and ivy with poisonous breath,
That gave it a false guise of life, despite the dread semblance it bore.
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VII.
Long, long had it been since the patriot there had been borne,
Long years since he fought for his king, for his country he bled ”

“ Lies the grave of many a heart!
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Faith. I.
THOU hast seen how a ring in its clasp may enfold
A diamond more dazzling, more precious than gold;
And the gem to the ring gives a lustre more bright,
Like the glance from the eye of an angel of light.
II.
Thus Faith is a ring, we may see in its grasp
A gem more resplendent than gold may enclasp;
’Tis the Pearl of great Price set by Heaven above
In that ring is the gift of obedient love.
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A Lament.
(From an unpublished Drama written in early life.) I.
ONCE lightly I roamed o’er these green fields and meadows ”

“ Wintry storms they fly southward over the streams of the ocean—
Fighting and mingling aloft in the air in dire contention—
Bringing bloodshed and death to the pigmy races of mankind:{97}
But silently went the Greeks, breathing destruction and hatred,
Mindful, each in the pending combat to aid one another. ”

“ The history of Canada has a poetic background. Our people are by nature inclined to literature, as may be seen from the high character of our home journals and from the large importation of foreign books and magazines. ”

“ Those who look with a jealous eye to the honor of English literature, are bound to pass what judgment they please upon every intruder into the groves of Parnassus, regardless of any extenuating circumstances which may be brought forth by way of palliation. ”

“ Dead Man’s Lake is a lonely sheet of water lying in a desolate region of the Indian Peninsula, between Lake Huron and Georgian Bay. It is situated in a forest of dead pines and hemlocks, blighted by bush fires long before the memory of any living man, and this adds materially to the desolation of an already dreary region of swamp and rock. ”

“ Death’s touch is at my heart, his chill is on my brow.”
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XX.
The faltering voice Irene no longer heard.
She saw the picture she had given to him
Her heart most yearned to reach. Then all appeared
Dark and confused; the while her senses swim,
The light burns blue, and waning visions dim
Flit o’er her mind; and voices distant seem
Like troubled waters moaning, phantoms grim,
Shades horrible; then reason’s flickering beam
Lit up—all, all as ’twere a wild, distempered dream.
XXI.
Oh! ”

“ He is doomed to endless woe;
For there must he lie till Vengeance is sated,
Ere rest his spirit can know.
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The Vigil. [E]
(A Romaunt of the late Rebellion in the U.S.A.) I.
The Southern sun with his deep flood of light
Was slowly sinking, and the moated tide
Hung heavy o’er the dusky brow of night.
Along the gilded west rose far and wide
A range of hills; a vale on either side
Where rich magnolias grew, stretched far adown ”

“ Have mingled their dust ’neath the Pale-faces’ feet.
V.
“Oppressed and down-trodden and driven to anguish!
What, what can the grief of my bosom gainsay?
Oh will they, Great Spirit, forever thus languish
Till the last of my people have withered away?
VI.
“Ah no!—they will rise on a day great in glory,
And triumph in pride o’er the dust of the foe, [A]
And their valorous deeds in traditional story
Shall pass with the current of years as they flow.
VII.
“But where, ah! ”