MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. A BUNCH OF SNOWDROPS. ENDER snowdrops, wee and white, Of the stars on brows of skies. When the moon hath not a streak, Go to her I love, and say With a thought as pure as you." And, as ye are hands of hope, And the year's first blossoming; So is she the Iris-light Stretching to me through the years; First for her, my soul in might Woke and gave me love and tears. And as ye, frail things, are soon So, if she should spurn my love, Scorch my hope with cruel breath, will move, On and on the years Blooming o'er the living death. YOUNG AMBITION. 'D scorn to swell the toady rout, I laugh at Fate, and sing and shout, "The man's the man he makes himself." I strike my breast—its ring is sound; I feel my wrists-they're shackle-free; I look above, before, around, And scoff the prate of Destiny. I think my life-my nucleus lay, And toil around it patiently; The circle widens day by day; The man's the man he wills to be! No golden key, no magic door, No royal road for any man; I have no patience for the sect Who dream of crowns, and covet thrones, Yet sit and murmur, and expect The world to lay them stepping-stones. Am I not strong and hardy-faced? Have I not feet to climb the stair? A mind to think, a brain to plan? Have I not hands to do and dare? Shall I not stand distinct a man? I'll grasp the skirts of light, and link I'll sow a stream of radiance there, A moon-track on the wrestling seas; My songs shall bow the hearts of men, As tempest winds bow forest trees; I'll bare my forehead--shine a star— SONG.-OCTOBER. HEN the herds were picking the dead ash leaves When winds were bringing a trouble of death On many seas, She died, alas ! She in whose life I had lived and moved So long, so long! Who had made all my days like the ravishing change Of a passionate song; She, who was ever a delicate bud, Wee, weak, and frail ; She died, alas! For whom I so anxiously watched and met Chill, damp, and gale; She died, alas ! She, who was blythe as a bird one day, The next without strength; Whom I dreamed, could she tide o'er a few more years, Might grow strong at length; She died, alas ! She died, and the light of my life and hope And my heart sobs now, as the shuddering leaves She died, alas ! NEW YEAR'S RESOLVES. WILL be useful and happy yet, Though my path hath been shaded long; Though, frail and dependent, misfortune hath damped The dawn of my life and song. I will be patient, and strong, and brave, My being shall gloriously rise over self— The rare woman-form that is all too dear, The calmness will come in God's good time, I'll sow all my tenderness wide in the world- |