Thomas Cowherd

“ Many there are who do the like,
And yet in this may do no wrong.
Now, I would hope sweet blessings may
Flow to you from our Father kind:
The rich gift of a happy mind,
In Wisdom's paths content to stay,
And purest peace in that to find.
I trust you will be filled with love,
Such love as God alone can give;
That you may still before Him live.
Placing your hopes always above,
May you his Spirit never grieve.
O, may you still, as man and wife,
Mutual confidence possess;
For this will free from much distress
Your family in after life,
And make your care and sorrow less. ”

“ If at pure peace and happiness we aim,
Than the selection of a proper wife—
One that may be a true help-mate for life.
"A prudent wife from God alone can come,"
And only such can make a happy home.
What dreadful strife, what wretchedness and woe,
From error here is almost sure to flow!
'Tis Sabbath morn, a pleasant, one, in Spring,
And Nature's varied voice is tuned to sing.
The swallows twitter underneath the eaves,
And zephyrs stir the newly-opened leaves;
The cock's loud crowing sounds on every hand,
Each bird is warbling praises through the land. ”

“ And false security within,
Each unsuspecting mind beguiles.
And when the solemn time arrives
For thee to sleep in death at peace,
And thy pure spirit strongly strives
To gain her longed-for wished release,
O, may she mount to yon abode
Where God's blest Saints and Angels dwell;
And there rejoice in him who trode
The path to death to save from hell.
TO ELLEN AND WILLIE. Ellen, my prattler dear,
Willie, my darling boy,
My children need not fear,
They shall my gift employ.
To you, by great neglect,
I have no rhyme addressed.
This you would scarce expect,
So much you've been caressed. ”

“ But faintness o'er him soon began to come,
When he was glad to reach his rude log home;
And from that hour has ever thankful been
For God's deliverance—so clearly seen.
A few short hours sufficed to bring him round,
And he at logging speedily was found.
There still was something in this wild bush-life
To suit a mind ne'er formed for worldly strife.
The chopper's quick reverberating stroke—
The well-trained oxen, toiling in the yoke—
The distant cow-bell's ever-changing sound—
The new-chopped tree's deep thundering on the ground ”

“ Don't stagger on so woe-begone,
But use some self-denial.
Thou wilt have need if thou succeed
In life, to use it often,
And I have found in moving round
It does life's trials soften.
Mind thou the stove! nor further rove,
For fear thou get a burning
Let not thine eyes in such surprise
Upon thy Pa be turning.
See, there at last thou hast got past
The dangers which beset thee,
So in my arms, proud of thy charms,
I'll hug thee if thou let me.
I fain would hope that thou wilt cope
With ills besetting mortals,
Depending on God's Arm alone,
And so reach Heaven's portals. ”

“ One huge sweet cake I hope to make
Each day, from the saccharine juice!
Last night's splendid freezing as truly most pleasing
To those who the Sugar-Bush love;
This morn's indications' need no explanations,
As the day will abundantly prove!
Then haste, comrade, and bring your spade;
To clear away the snow,
That our wood-fire may soon acquire
A beautiful, bright, ruddy glow.
Now, whilst I am tapping the trees with sweet sap in,
Prepare you a good stock of wood;
Be watchful in boiling, run no risk of spoiling
By carelessness, prospects so good! ”

“ In praise of Him who is Divine,
To whom all honor does belong.
Why should we grudge to part with thee?
Thou went our Heavenly father's own;
And he far better knows than we
What's best to do, as will be shown.
And yet it seems so hard to part—,
To part with those we love so dearly,
That, though the keenness of the smart
Is gone through Jesus' death most clearly,
We cannot help but mourn and weep
At losing for a time such treasure.
But we'll, rejoice that those who sleep
In Christ, shall, in unbounded measure,
Enjoy true happiness and peace
In yon fair World, where pain not tears. ”

“ Dost thou behold the poor, erratic one
Who has been tossed on Life's tempestuous wave
Till he has fairly longed to find his grave?
I fain would know if, when I heave a sigh,
Tears e'er bedim thy sympathetic eye?
When I have drunk so deep of heartfelt woe,
And: roved the vanity of all below,
Oh, say, my Mother, hast thou felt a share
Know'st thou what 'tis to be weighed down with care?
Why write I thus? for souls in heavenly bliss
Feel not our woes—know not what sorrow is—
Unless their past experiences they feel,
To aid, by contrast, in producing weal. ”

“ Then Autumn, too, and Winter held the sway;
While January, when half its course was run,
Brought to our friends a second infant son.
Two of each kind parental love now claim,
As sharers of their destiny and name;
While years of happiness might seem in store
For, prosperous still, they loved each other more.
That season was their best in way of trade,
And thus their prospects wore no darkening shade.
Satan—arch enemy of all mankind—
Beheld with envy their true peace of mind,
And most maliciously employed his skill
To work them woe—defiant of God's will. ”

“ Thy sweetest numbers in harmonious rhyme.
'Tis time to bid my dormant powers arise,
Yet I would first dry up my weeping eyes.
My full charged bosom heaves, and oh, how slow
Conflicting thoughts in well timed numbers flow.
Cease, rebel feelings, cease your dreadful strife;
The theme's my love, the partner of my life.
Her portrait is before me, and that smile
Upon her features playing, shows no guile.
What were thy thoughts, my loved one, on that day
The artist's skill did our joint forms portray?
Thou wast not then so foolish as to deem
An early death a vain or idle dream. ”

“ Yet, when the spell was broke, the sweets of home
Were such, that from them he ne'er wished to roam.
And thus days, weeks and months most smoothly passed,
Till Winter came, each beauteous scene to blast.
Now, with new hopes, alas! came fears as well,
The strength of which it is not mine to tell.
But those who once have fond, young husbands been,
May well conceive what hopes and fears I mean.
Scarce bad December sealed the Frost-King's reign,
Ere these true hearts a Love's-pledge did obtain.
Protracted labor, bringing sore distress,
Came nigh extinguishing their happiness! ”

“ Every day points out my duty.
Conscience, too, whispers 'tis not right
That I this task should longer slight.
So now I take thee on my knee
And woo the Muse right eagerly,
In earnest hope she'll lend her aid
Until this tribute be well paid.
Ida, thou art of babes the best;
This much at least must be confessed,
Unless thy mother's words are wrong—
Words shadowing forth Affection strong.
Thou art indeed, sweet tempered pet,
As good a child as I have met.
And oh, my heart for thee' has bled,
When thou wert forced to be spoon-fed,
Because of Mamma's trying weakness. ”

“ See, I bid you now depart,
Lest delay increase her smart;
I will soon to it attend.
"Learn to place in Christ your trust;
Seek for pardon through His blood.
God alone can keep you just,
For we are at best but dust;
Naught have we ourselves of good."
WILLIAM hastens to the Hall
With a somewhat easier mind.
Fearing that it might appal
Mother's heart, he tells not all
That befel their friends so kind.
Now an inquest has been held
O'er AMELIA'S corpse so fair,
Tears have from their fountains welled,
Grief immoderate has been quelled,
Which has brought of peace a share. ”

“ Spread wide the messages of dove-eyed Peace,
And may God's richest blessing flow to you
Where'er you are, until your labors cease!
TO A VIOLET. FOUND BLOOMING IN MY GARDEN IN DECEMBER, 1859.
Beauteous, variegated flower,
That with courageous mien,
Not heeding much stern Winter's power,
Hast let thy face be seen
At such a season, and amid such dearth
Of vernal beauty, I would bid thee hail;
For charms like thine to me have wond'rous worth,
When Summer's comforts fail. ”

“ And other signs of grief were shown.
They'll miss thee much, as Sabbath day
Brings fresh thy memory to their mind,
And gratefully a tribute pay
To thee—in thine thus left behind.
Oh! how can I now further sing?
How tell the horrors of that blow
Which caused thy death, when each rude string
Of my poor lyre doth tremble so?
Ah, me! that one on mercy bent,
Hasting to his sick brother's side,
Should be from life thus strangely rent,
And have his faith so greatly tried!
Peace! God All-wise gave this dread shock
And took his soul with Him to dwell. ”

“ So much of matrimonial bliss,
And in that bond has kept us true.
Let's deem it best His rod to kiss,
And keep His promises in view.
So, side by side
Our lives may glide
Till death bring us o'er Jordan's tide!
TO THE SAME, ON THE THIRTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF OUR MARRIAGE. SEPTEMBER 26, 1877. Full thirty years of wedded bliss,
My darling wife, we have enjoyed;
And still I can with rapture kiss
Thy sweet, chaste lips—for I am void
Of every fear that thou wilt fail
To love me till our race is run. ”

“ To ease him of his sin.
Tells him how some months ago
He a harmless maiden slew.
Jealousy had wrought his woe,
Made him give the fatal blow;
'Twas very wrong he knew.
"Speak her name!" the other cries;
"Mary Markham," Bristol screams.
Rage gleams from that other's eyes,
As he at John Bristol flies,
To end his mortal dreams.
Soon he's by the murderer's side,
Now he fiercely drags him down.
"Here thou shalt no longer bide;
Sink, fiend! sink into the tide,
And all thy baseness drown!"
Loud and louder roars the wind;
The new murderer is alone
And has lost his peace of mind. ”

“ O blissful change! from dark foreboding fear,
A wounded conscience, and Hell's prospects drear,
To joy unspeakable and purest peace,
Which once received were never more to cease.
A prophet said—the prophet was a man
Who did enjoy that peace which only can
Flow from one source—God's own redemption plan—
"Mark well the perfect man; behold the upright,
Whose death so precious is in Jesus' sight;
His end is peace." He goes down to the shade
Of death's dark valley, and is not afraid
To come within the precincts of the grave,
Well knowing Christ is ever near to save. ”

“ I own a splendid farm,
And lovely children growing up
Call forth my feelings warm.
I would not be a Frenchman deemed,
Though sprung of Gaulish race,
And their pure blood I freely can
In my forefathers trace.
For I would feel as much at home
As ever man can be
Back in our woods or in our towns,
Whilst I have liberty.
O, yes; we are Canadians now,
Wherever we were born;
And we will strive in time to come
To heal a land so torn
By party strife, by clannish fire,
And aim to live in peace. ”

“ Through thee great Nature's overflowing stores
From distant lands are brought unto our doors;
Increasing much our comfort and delight,
Without abating any civil right.
Nay, more; producing, by thy sway, sweet bands
To bind us to give Peace our hearts and hands;
And thus to strike a death-blow to all war,
Whose brutal spirit keeps our minds ajar.
Through thee our mammoth manufacturing places
Send forth their wares to Earth's remotest races:
By which means many thousand poor are fed,
And trained to Industry—by Virtue led—
Use right the skill with which they are endowed ”

“ From Winter's howling, fearful, bitter blasts,
For they have fuel in abundance near,
And the huge wood file constant comfort casts
Into the snug log house long as the season lasts.
XV. All these arrangements made, the Pastor felt
He had more leisure now to walk abroad;
And in the gorgeous woods he often knelt
In fervent prayer before his Father, God.
For miles around his feet have pressed the sod
Which ne'er was turned by plow up to the sun—
Wilds that the foot of white man seldom trod,
And where no clearance had as yet begun:
Where he could sit and watch some charming brooklet run. ”