TO A LOCOMOTIVE IN WINTER. Published in "Two Rivulets," 1876. THEE for my recitative ! Thee in the driving storm, even as now-the snow-the winterday declining; Thee in thy panoply, thy measured dual throbbing, and thy beat convulsive; Thy black cylindric body, golden brass, and silvery steel; Thy ponderous side-bars, parallel and connecting rods, gyrating, shuttling at thy sides; Thy metrical, now swelling pant and roar-now tapering in the distance; Thy great protruding head-light, fix'd in front; Thy long, pale, floating vapor-pennants, tinged with delicate purple ; The dense and murky clouds out-belching from thy smoke stack; Thy knitted frame-thy springs and valves-the tremulous twinkle of thy wheels; Thy train of cars behind, obedient, merrily-following, ΙΟ Through gale or calm, now swift, now slack, yet steadily careering : Type of the modern ! emblem of motion and power! pulse of the continent ! For once, come serve the Muse, and merge in verse, even as here I see thee, With storm, and buffeting gusts of wind, and falling snow; By night, thy silent signal lamps to swing. Fierce-throated beauty! Roll through my chant, with all thy lawless music! thy swinging lamps at night; Thy piercing, madly-whistled laughter! thy echoes, rumbling like an earthquake, rousing all! Law of thyself complete, thine own track firmly holding; 20 THE OX TAMER. Published in "Two Rivulets," 1876. IN a faraway northern county, in the placid, pastoral region, Lives my farmer friend, the theme of my recitative, a famous Tamer of Oxen : There they bring him the three-year-olds and the four-year-olds, to break them; He will take the wildest steer in the world, and break him and tame him; He will go, fearless, without any whip, where the young bullock chafes up and down the yard; The bullock's head tosses restless high in the air, with raging eyes; Yet, see you! how soon his rage subsides-how soon this Tamer tames him : See you! on the farms hereabout, a hundred oxen, young and old-and he is the man who has tamed them; They all know him—all are affectionate to him; ΙΟ See you! some are such beautiful animals-so lofty looking! Some are buff color'd-some mottled-one has a white line running along his back—some are brindled, Some have wide flaring horns (a good sign)-See you! the bright hides; See, the two with stars on their foreheads-See, the round bodies and broad backs; See, how straight and square they stand on their legs-See, what fine, sagacious eyes; See, how they watch their Tamer-they wish him near themhow they turn to look after him! What yearning expression! how uneasy they are when he moves away from them: -Now I marvel what it can be he appears to them, (books, politics, poems depart-all else departs ;) I confess I envy only his fascination-my silent, illiterate friend, Whom a hundred oxen love, there in his life on farms, In the northern county far, in the placid, pastoral region. WANDERING AT MORN. Published in "Two Rivulets," 1876. WANDERING at morn, Emerging from the night, from gloomy thoughts—thee in my thoughts, Yearning for thee, harmonious Union! thee, Singing Bird divine ! Thee, seated coil'd in evil times, my Country, with craft and black dismay—with every meanness, treason thrust upon thee; -Wandering this common marvel I beheld—the parent thrush I watch'd, feeding its young, (The singing thrush, whose tones of joy and faith ecstatic, Fail not to certify and cheer my soul.) There ponder'd, felt I, If worms, snakes, loathsome grubs, may to sweet spiritual songs be turn'd, If vermin so transposed, so used, so bless'd may be, ΙΟ AN OLD MAN'S THOUGHT OF SCHOOL. (Recited for the inauguration of a New Public School, Camden, New Jersey, Oct. 31. 1874.) Published in "Two Rivulets," 1876. An old man's thought of School; An old man, gathering youthful memories and blooms, that youth itself cannot. Now only do I know you! O fair auroral skies! O morning dew And these I see-these sparkling eyes, These stores of mystic meaning-these young lives, Building, equipping, like a fleet of ships-immortal ships! On the Soul's voyage. Only a lot of boys and girls? Only the tiresome spelling, writing, ciphering classes? Ah more-infinitely more ; IO (As George Fox rais'd his warning cry, "Is it this pile of brick and mortar-these dead floors, windows, rails-you call the church? Why this is not the church at all—the Church is living, ever living Souls.") And you, America, Cast you the real reckoning for your present? The lights and shadows of your future-good or evil? WITH ALL THY GIFTS. Published in "Two Rivulets," 1876. WITH all thy gifts, America, (Standing secure, rapidly tending, overlooking the world,) Power, wealth, extent, vouchsafed to thee-With these, and like of these, vouchsafed to thee, What if one gift thou lackest? (the ultimate human problem never solving ;) The gift of Perfect Women fit for thee-What of that gift of gifts thou lackest ? The towering Feminine of thee? the beauty, health, completion, fit for thee? The Mothers fit for thee? AFTER THE SEA-SHIP. Published in "Two Rivulets," 1876. AFTER the Sea-Ship-after the whistling winds; After the white-gray sails, taut to their spars and ropes, necks, Tending in ceaseless flow toward the track of the ship: Waves of the ocean, bubbling and gurgling, blithely prying, ! Toward that whirling current, laughing and buoyant, with curves, Where the great Vessel, sailing and tacking, displaced the sur face; Larger and smaller waves, in the spread of the ocean, yearnfully flowing; The wake of the Sea-Ship, after she passes-flashing and frolicsome, under the sun, ΙΟ A motley procession, with many a fleck of foam, and many fragments, Following the stately and rapid Ship-in the wake following. THOU READER. THOU reader throbbest life and pride and love the same as I, Therefore for thee the following chants. TO THE MAN-OF-WAR-BIRD. THOU who hast slept all night upon the storm, As to the light emerging here on deck I watch thee, Far, far at sea, After the night's fierce drifts have strewn the shores with wrecks, With re-appearing day as now so happy and serene, The rosy and elastic dawn, the flashing sun, The limpid spread of air cerulean, Thon also re-appearest. Thou born to match the gale, (thou art all wings,) To cope with heaven and earth and sea and hurricane, Thou ship of air that never furl'st thy sails, Days, even weeks untired and onward, through spaces, realms gyrating, |