Norah

“ TO A FATHERS MEMORY (J. M. D.) I thank Thee Father that I feel Thee near,
That it is hand of Thine that's raised to smite,
Oh, make Thy loving kindness to appear,
Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right!
Poor woe-worn watchers! he is going home;
No skill can save him, and no love can keep;
He served his generation—he is gone,
And gathered to his fathers, falls asleep.
We've bitter cups to drain—but his is dry;
Burdens of care—but care has left his breast;
Tears—but they never more shall dim his eye ”

“ Meeting, parting, both are o'er;
And I feel the same dull pain,
Aching heart and throbbing brain
Coming o'er me once again
That I often felt before.
For he is my father's son,
And, in childhood's loving time
He and I so lone, so young,
No twin blossoms ever sprung,
No twin cherries ever clung,
Closer than his heart and mine.
He is changed, ah me! ah me!
Have we then a different aim?
Shall earth's glory or its gold
Make his heart to mine grow cold?
Or can new love kill the old?
Leaving me for love and fame
Oh, my brother fair to see! ”

“ But childhood's woe, thank God, is always brief.
Try to cheer Annie in her widowed woe;
Let her hear words of comfort at thy mouth;
But, friend, I charge thee, do not let her know
Aught of the tender mercies of the South.
Tell her that I have never been alone,
One like the Son of Man was by my side;
The Everlasting arms were round me thrown
Of my dear Lord who for our freedom died.
I don't regret, that though of British birth,
I have been true to the cause unto death;
'Tis not alone the Union, or the North,
It is the people's cause o'er all the earth. ”

“ They have taught the stern Saxon they know how to die.
Well, no wit, poet, statesman or hero can be
More dear to my heart than thou, D'Arcy McGee.
Wild heads may plan glories for Erin their mother,
Weak plans and wicked plans chasing each other;
To me worse than the loss of a sceptre and crown
Is a spot that might tarnish my children's renown,
'Tis the laurels they win are the jewels I prize,
They're the core of my heart and the light of my eyes;
For my children are gems and crown jewels to me,
And art thou not one of them, D'Arcy McGee! ”

“ Father, Thy will be done
Oh make my will the same!
And teach me in this trying hour,
To glorify Thy name.
SERVANTS. They are but servants, say the words of scorning,
As though they meant to say, we're finer clay,
Yet, all the universe holds solemn warning,
Against this pride in creatures of a day
In fashion's last new folly, flaunting slowly,
With white plumes tossing on the Sabbath air
They pass with scornful words a sister lowly.
Do scornful lips know anything of prayer?
Alas! poor human nature's inconsistence,
Up to God's house we go, that we be fed ”

“ Parting is a time of test,
Father, give him what is best,
Father keep him from the rest,
Bless him though we fall apart.
Well I know love will not die,
It will cause us bliss or pain;
We may part for many years,
But my loving prayers and tears,
Rising up to Him who hears,
Will yet draw him back again.
From the fount of tenderness,
All the past comes brimming up;
When his brow is touched with care,
When no grief of his I share,
When we're separated far,
It will be a bitter cup;
Bless him from before Thy throne,
Thus my heart to Thee makes moan,
Keep him Lord where he is gone ”

“ Glowed like a furnace 'neath a brazen sky.
O'er many a hearth red, burning ruin swept,
Till people fancied 'twas a flaming world;
All labour gained, and prudent care had kept,
And precious life were in one ruin hurled.
But as the fire fast spread, 'tis sweet to know,
So loving kindness and sweet pity ran;
This wide spread wail of human want and woe,
Served to bring out the brotherhood of man.
Here, on the lovely pine-fringed Allumette,
We hear the distant echoes of the jar,
Where Galile pluck and Teuton drill have met
In the long shock of cruel murderous war. ”

“ Drew my fair child into her loathsome breast;
Nothing had ever parted us till then,
O child! when shall I hold thee once again?
As if the plague's red cross upon my door,
With "Lord have mercy!" scared the passers by,
So friends of mine that I had had before,
Fled from the face of my calamity.
Shut in, and yet shut out, my days went on,
Shut in with woe, shut out from human kind
Within my boundaries, watching sad and lone,
Hope with despair kept struggling in my mind.
It is not always human hearts can say
To Him who smites, "I trust Thee though Thou slay." ”

“ The past is laid by with the bridal wreath
The bride has come home a wife,
And now we pray that blessings may
Crown all your wedded life
What shall be the blessing, my dearest dear,
When it's all that we have to give?
That peace and love, from God above,
Be yours while ye both shall live.
That high love that makes of the wife a queen,
Of a cottage a palace home,
The coarse web fine, life's water wine,
The fire-side chair a throne.
Love that drops like dew from heaven to fill
With all blessing your earthly cup ”

“ His kith and kin by the Maine water's side,
Weep very sore for love of him that died.
Oh Death is ever coming, loved ones going,
Hearts rent with sorrow because one is not;
The waves of trouble ever swelling, flowing,
Past the tall castle, past the sheltered cot!
"I am bereaved!" is the unceasing moan,
Rising forever to our Father's throne.
O Christ Thou dost remember earthly weeping,
When the bereaved at Thy dear feet have cried,
Beside the grave where the much loved lay sleeping,
"Lord if Thou hadst been here he had not died." ”

“ We have failed, we look with sorrow and fear
For woe that must come by Lake Allumette.
HOW PRINCE ARTHUR WAS WELCOMED TO PEMBROKE. Do you know the town Pembroke so loyal and long
And so worthy the praise of a poet in song?
Nestled down by the lake shore, that ripples and shines,
And hemmed in by the hills with their crowning of pines.
Now this town is that town so wondrous and fair,
Long thought to be but a chateau in the air,
Where the sons are all brave and the daughters all fair. ”

“ Except when their home was the mother's breast,
And worse than all she had to see
Them taught the secrets of sin and woe,
Which happier children never know
Alas! that such a thing should be
Her darlings were made to pass through the fire
To the Moloch of vice and sinful desire,
The father's example of life and tongue
Brought the knowledge of evil to them while young,
And in sorrow and shame,
That none may name,
In strife and sin all tempest-tost
The innocence God gives to babes was lost
All is over, nought's left but dishonoured clay,
But the evil men do lives longer than they. ”

“ But I know heroic souls beyond my feeble praise,
I know of calm endurance like the great of other days,
High deeds for battle song, worth a poet's noblest lays,
Of the pathos of the strife
In the lowly walks of life,
Of many an unknown hero that has won the victor's crown
And the lovely, lovely land,
Landscape fair, and castle grand,
Worthy the coming bard who will sing of their renown.
I love thee well, sweet Erin, though fate led another way;
I'll call thee still, mavourneen, when head and heart are grey ”

“ O Erin, my mother Erin, dear land more kind than wise,
I think of thee till loving tears come thronging to my eyes.
Thou hast nourished on thy bosom many sons of deathless fame;
Who, while the world will last, shall shed a lustre on thy name.
While Foyle's proud swelling waters roll past Derry to the sea;
While yet a single vestige of old Limerick's walls there be;
Shall those who love thee well, fair land, lament that feuds divide
The sons of those who for each cause stood fast on either side. ”

“ Of sorrow and sin, of anguish and tears
There have been martyrs for God and right,
Passed through blood and fire into endless light
Count all the martyrs to right that died
Since Abel's blood to Jehovah cried
There are but few in that shining throng
Compared to the martyrs of sin and wrong
Count not that woman's life by years,
Count by the dropping of heart-wrung tears
To the common lot of toil and care,
That dims the eye and the heart strings wring,
He added, of woe that none could share,
Whole ages of sorrow and suffering ”

“ Thou hast raised thyself up, against wind, against tide,
Thou art high, thou art honoured, my joy and my pride;
Now the song of the drunkard is chased from thy place,
And my pride is relieved from this touch of disgrace.
Thou wilt help to make Erin "great, glorious and free,"
And I bless thee my silver-tongued D'Arcy McGee.
NORA TO DAVID HERBISON. There's a place in the North where the bonnie broom grows,
Where winding through green meadows the silver Maine flows,
Every lark as it soars and sings that sweet spot knows ”

“ ERIN, MAVOURNEEN. A Prize Poem.
I know Canada is fair to see, and pleasant; it is well
On the banks of its broad river 'neath the maple trees to dwell;
But the heart is very wilful, and in sorrow or in mirth,
Mine will turn with sore love-longing to the land that gave me birth;
And I wish that, oh but once again! my longing eyes might see
The green island that lies smiling on the bosom of the sea;
That is fed with heaven's dew and the fatness of the earth,
Fanned by wild Atlantic breezes that sweep over it in mirth. ”

“ Friend, life's for thee, and death for me, Farewell'
DEATH OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. In the Capitol is mourning,
Mourning and woe this day,
For a nation's heart is throbbing—
A great man has passed away
It was yester'even only
Rejoicing wild and high,
Waving flags and shouting people
Proclaimed a victory
For our God had led our armies,
In the cause of truth and right,
It was, therefore, the brave Southren
Had bowed to Northern might.
Then flashed o'er the land the tidings,
The flush of joy to quell,
Fallen is the people's hero,
As William the Silent fell. ”

“ Mount Cashel's Lord rules o'er a fair domain?
Or grass grown ruin all that's left to bear
Of a lost race the all but fading name?
The lovely Maine lingers in flowing through
The peaceful place that was my childhood's home,
Myriads of shamrocks on its margin grew,
Was it from these thy sisters thou hast come?
Such fair broad meadows by Maine water lay,
Erin her mantle green for carpet spread,
In merry childhood there we met to play,
Dashing the dew from many a shamrock's head.
Where sleep the village dead there is a spot
That's dearer far than all the rest to me ”

“ The bane of the gifted, oh D'Arcy McGee.
For so well hath the father of lies tried to fling
A false glory around it, so hiding the sting,
Saying wit gets its flash, and high genius its fire,
From the fiend that drags genius and wit through the mire
Ah 'it biteth, it stingeth, it eateth away,
And our best and our brightest it takes for its prey,
'Tis the bowl of the helot, no cup for the free,
As thou very well knowest, my D'Arcy McGee.
Hast thou risen my loved one and cast from thy name
All the shadows that darken thy life with their shame ”

“ And the forest guards the secret! no man knows his grave.
Our land, our pride and boast,
Spreads now from coast to coast,
Stands up a great Dominion among the ruling powers.
For us this chieftain fought,
An ally unbribed, unbought;
We guard his name and fame in this Canada of ours.
We have grown strong and bold,
Able to have and hold;
Our allies the red men are cared for with our care. ”

“ I would praise the bonnie North,
And draw its legends forth
From cottage and from castle the pleasant country through
I'd make the land I loved in poesy to shine,
The Maine should flow along in "many a tuneful line,"
Songs praising hills and streams full sweetly should be mine,
And the legends I would sing,
From lip to lip should ring,
My native land should ask for, and hear my humble name;
When like her tuneful son,
Green laurels I had won,
I'd think her love for me was better far than fame. ”

“ Among those pure and precious who have known no earthly sinning,
The Beloved's fair white lilies in the Paradise of God,
Those He looked upon and loved, when their lives were but beginning,
And brought home before their tender feet grew weary of the road
There clothed on with his beauty, round the child all bliss will
gather,
All the brightness of the Father's face when looking on His own;
For the little children's angels see the bright face of the Father,
And gather on the rainbow steps that are around the throne. ”