Read Ebook: Poems by Matheson D M Duncan M

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Ebook has 139 lines and 11674 words, and 3 pages

'Tis strangely sad such chimes as those, Which seemed a heavenly dow'r, Should fall a prey to tyranny, And war's barbaric pow'r, A city new will rise again Up from its ashen bed, But those old chimes shall ring no more: The soul of Flanders' fled.

THE GARDENS

KEEP THE GARDENS GROWING

We were summoned from the play-ground, We were called in from the wood, And our country found us ready At the stirring call for food. Do not add unto our burden, If you hap to pass along, For, although our backs are breaking, You can hear us sing this song:--

CHORUS

Keep the gardens growing, Digging, planting, hoeing; If you plant and weed aright The crop will grow. Do not stand repining While the sun is shining, Turn the good soil inside out, And fertilize and sow.

Mother Britain sent a message, To her daughter in the West, "We need every kind of food-stuffs," So we're bound to do our best; For the soldiers in the trenches And the homeland we must feed, And no worthy son will fail her, When his mother is in need.

AN ELEGY WRITTEN IN RICHMOND

Low in the eastern sky the breaking light Pales in the vault of heaven the morning star, Presaging me the dying hour of night, And that the twilight gray is not afar;

For night is slowly changing into morn, And through the gloom the forms of ships appear. Across the Arm below, the bugle horn Reveille's call brings to my listening ear.

No other sound is on the morning air To echo back from hills and dales around; No home has man; no beast has here lair, And desolation seems to own the ground;

Save me who sit beneath an aged elm Which some one's home at Richmond once did grace, Ere fell misfortune did it overwhelm And left this tree alone to mark the place.

Yet here I am beneath this hoary tree And ruminate upon the recent past-- If such events again should hap to be-- The ruins round their gloomy bodings cast.

But still I sit amidst these scenes of death Which call to mind that dire December day, When Fate unkindly blew his blighting breath, Reducing homes to dust, and men to clay.

And question thus: "Was there no law amiss? Had no officials power to prevent A devastation, dark and drear, as this? Was Richmond's loss naught but an accident?"

And in my breast a rising hate I feel For man-made Laws which oft protect the High And leave the Low their grievous wounds to heal And bear their load of sorrow till they die.

A sense of sadness passes through my soul, An earthly grief akin to human-kind, But ere this sorrow sad doth reach its goal Celestial musings fill my troubled mind.

The hatred lately felt within my breast And which I vainly thought naught could allay Until my spirit passed to its last rest; I surely find is speeding fast away.

Some Spirit sweet seems near to me abide Who doth from me remove all earthly dread, And in most soothing ways my senses chide That I hold counsel with the living dead.

I look around to see whose is the voice Whose cadence falls so sweetly on my ear As thus to make my hating heart rejoice, But vain my quest, no living soul is near.

A spirit voice I know, it needs must be That sounds upon the air with silv'ry tone And yet, withal, no fears arise in me, Though midst the ruins here I am alone.

The voice now cautions me to listen well, And in harmonious tones with lightning speed This story he narrates for me to tell, And thus I write it down that all may read.

"That fatal morn, when Richmond felt secure, With many more I ran to yonder hill To watch the burning ship, all feeling sure That nothing round could do us harm or ill.

"And why should aught around fill us with fears Did we not know: The flag that braves the breeze On land and sea for full one thousand years, Flew o'er our city still and o'er our seas?

"The scene was bright and beautiful and grand, With florid streamers shooting far on high, And none who viewed the scene from sea or land Were cognizant they were so soon to die.

"Whose was the fault is not for me to tell.-- The Judge of All shall surely justice mete To those who prematurely rang our knell When they are come to His just judgement seat.

"You wonder why I wander 'neath the vault Of heaven here and fain would ask-- 'Tis but to beg forgiveness of a fault And do again another ill-done task.

"Though young in life, in wisdom now I'm old, For I've passed through the chast'ning purge of fire; My harp, though silver now, will soon be gold, When time has passed and I have mounted higher.

"Along the path with slow increasing pace Into the realms of peace where all is light; 'Till I have reached my time allotted seat, There, to enjoy the beatific sight.

"Of God for aye and His hosannas sing, Amidst the saints of His twice chosen few, Before the treble throne of God, our King, The vision of whose glory's ever new.

"Then do good deeds while in the flesh, my friend And trespassers forgive, lest you forget Such charity, till you have reached the end Of life with some one unforgiven yet.

"Take heed that you will e'er remember this, Lest you, as others did so oft before, May cross that cold and ever dark abyss Which separates earth from the spirit shore.

"Which lieth far beyond the farthest sun, And trembling stand before high Heaven's court With unforgiven thought and task undone; No camouflage to which you can resort.

"Be ye a man of lore, unlearned or youth, Will there, as here on earth, avail you aught; Nor will forensic speech conceal the truth In your account of deed and word and thought.

"In stilly night I've often wandered here Far from those realms beyond the starry sky, O'er that long way, so lonely, dark and drear, But now the hour of bliss for me draws nigh.

"For soon the pearly gates, which now bar me, Through which the sainted souls have ever trod Will open wide and I shall ever see The pristine glory of the throne of God."

THE COTTAGE SCHOOL.

Summer time was in the waning, Vesper Sun was wending low, And reminiscences brought me Back to school days long ago There the school-house stood before me, And I was on hallowed ground, Where each old association Inspiration breathed around.

Full in view the school was standing Near the road and yet aloof, Four square walls in ochre painted, Topped off with a cottage roof. In the distance old Atlantic Glistened as in days of yore, While upon his glimmering bosom, White caps rolled towards the shore.

On the diamond boys were playing Base-ball, with eclat and shout; Saw the batter three times fanning, Heard the umpire's "Batter's out." Saw some other hit a grounder, Speed away like a winged bird; Heard the rooters merry shouting, As he landed safe on third.

Heard the maidens merry laughter, As they played upon the green, And the rythm of their footfalls, Skipping o'er the hard terrene, Saw the little boys and maidens Drinking at the nearby well: And upon the air vibrating Heard again the master's bell.

Plainly heard the foot-step sounding On the floor with measured beats, While the boys and girls were filing Through the aisles towards their seats. Saw the whole class sitting upright, In position, one and all; Heard distinctly "Here" and "Absent," Answered to the master's call.

I could see the master's visage, With its look of learned lore, While Sol's summer shadows lengthened Slowly o'er the school house floor; O'er his head there hung a motto With the words, "God Bless Our School" Standing in the left-hand corner Was the oft-used Dunces' stool.

Heard him from the Holy Bible Read from some New Testament, And to each and every passage, Young and old, attention lent. Heard once more the school repeating Earnestly the Saviour's prayer, While around a holy stillness Floated on the ev'ning air.

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