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Show f EXPRESSED- IN VERSE: : : FICTION AND SENTIMENT : . rJ,k','n ENDURANCE. How much the heart may hear and yet not break: How much the flesh may suffer and not die I question much if any pain or ache Of soul or bo-Jy brings our end more Deatu chooses his own time; till that is SW'Ttl Ail evils may be. borne. We shrink and shtclder at the surgeon's knife Eaen nerve recoiling from tho cruel steel. Whose edge seems searching fo- the quivering quiv-ering life; Yet to ur sense the bitter pangs reveal That still, although the trc-mbhng liesh be torn. This also can be borne. We see a sorrow- ri.-ing in our way, . And try to llee from the approaching ill: Wc seeK some small escape; we weep ami prav; But when the blow falls then our hearts are still; Not tht the pain is of its fharoness shorn. But that it can be borne. We wind our lives about another life: We hold it closer, ilearer rhan our own, Anon It faints and fails in deathly strife, weaving us stunned and Mricken and alone; But ah! we do not die with tiiose we mourn : This also can- be bor;ie. Behold.' we live through ail things famine, thirst. Bereavement, pain; all grief and misery. All woe and sorrow; life inflicts- its worst On soul and body -but we cannot die. Though we be sick and tired and faint and worn Lo! all things' can be borne. AT DEAD O'THE NIGHT, ALANNA At dead o' night, alanna. I wake and see you there; Your little hand on the pillow, with tossed and tangled hair; I am your mother, acushla, and you are my heart's own boy. And wealth o' the world I'd barter to shield you from annoy. At dead o the night, alanna, the heart o . the world is still, But sobbing o' fairy music comes down the haunted hill. , The march o' the fairy armies troubles the peace o' air: Blest angels shelter my darling for power of a mother's pray'r. At dead o the night, alanna. the sleepless Banshee moans. Wailing for .sin and sorrow, by the Cairn's crumbling stones. At dead o' the night, alanna, I ask of our God above To shield you from sin and sorrow, and cherish you in his love. At dead o' the night, alanna, I wander o'er and o'er. Shall you part from our holy Ireland, to die on a stranger shore? You'll break my heart in the leaving, like many a mother I know Just God, look down upon Lrin and lift her at last from woe! At dead o' the night, alanna, I see you in future years. Grand in your strength, and noble, facing tho wide world fears; Though down- in the mossy churchyard my bones be under the sod, My spirit shall watch you. darling, till you come to your rest in God. RESTLESS, WEARY AND ALONE. Restless, restless, I am grieving night and day. And the flowers of life all withered, leave but thorns along- my way. I am waiting, waiting till my toiling here shall ceane. ' And my ever restless throbbing i a sad, sad prayer for peace. Restless-, oh sr restltss; Oh God! is there peace! Weary, weary, weary, by the burdens of lite oppressed. I wander in the shadows, I sigh and sigh for rest. There !.- darkness in the heavens the earth is drear below, And the joys 1 taste today may tomorrow turn to woe. Weary, weary, oh! God, is there rest. Broken-hearted, broke n-hearted, desolate and lone. Low voices from the past o'er my wreck and ruin moan. In every pleasure Is mingled the bitterest alloy. And a starless night hath followed on every sunset of my joy. Broken-hearted, broken-hearted, oh! God, is there joy. Homeless, homeless, through the dreary-years dreary-years I wander lonely, and my path is wet with tear.. In bright or blighted places, wheresoever I roam. I cast my eyes above and murmur, where is home? Homeless, homeless, oh! God, is there home. DELIVER US FROM EVIL! Out of the storm and the sunbeam Strong to save or reprove. - pray for the way of w isdom. The path where we should move. The burdened brow of the ruler Seeking to do aright, Th tearful dream of the toiler Denied the rest of night, They hear abroad on the mountain, r rem sea and shore, a cry: "Help us. O Christ, in mercy; For need of help is nigh!" Afar on the isles our banner j Shakes to the wind of morn. : '. Rapinet and carnage beneath it! I Staining i'ts stars with scorn. We have sent our eagle emblem To teach the clouds our name. We have eompasped the world' d sire-Shall sire-Shall lightnings tell our shame? From hives of :icn the children Cry out to sires unfed. On silent hills t'he miners Walk by the smelters, dead. Will the nation's court in blindness Destroy the nation's home? Hf,y we struck on reefs of Mammon, Where fatal breaker. 4 foam? Lord God. if our land be given To seven deviis at p!av. How long till the sky be riven Apai by Thy judgment day? A SINNER IN THE STORM. Oh, de Lightniu' flash cas' ter wes' Lnd de thunder beat his drums; ' j l-m I shake en shiver Kn hunt fer kiver, Em cry ter de good Lawd ter deliver-Ln deliver-Ln whar will I stan'-dat what r sa'v-eiday? sa'v-eiday? Udr r0U 0n de Jec'Snt l',ni-ngihitn?ay: "You's a-nin' out, En de Thunder 'low Dat he'll raise a row, 'Kase I des so trifln', anyhow! Ln whar will I star. dat what I .-ay-day? rhunder roU at 3 Jedgment I know- dat de Lingtin' look fer me, Ln. de Thunder's on my track; En I strike de match, Ln set de latch; ' ''Pu'tcV?n W,1 dS Whit( man me,on En: whar will I stan'-dat what T av da? ,ndt?r r0U at de lament HAPPINESS. tWritten for The Intermountain Catholic ) No miracle, but faithful daily bread Is happiness, whereon our hearts are fed from our own hand. Tprie Sa1' Sam Slai,; unhPed sr- ihat folded "neath a dark horizon lies In this near land. Ava-n "lver bm of morning liprht The pain of yesterday, subdued tonight-A tonight-A sudden smile; ' hrenrt-"5 " home. on dr Parents So old the joys and various the. m;e-t . That men beguile. j THE TABERNACLE DOOH. j (Written for The . termJ-iui.i in ,-,C-) 1 Thev tell m- t grand, sera pine pr.i-. . . 'They ypeak of tne light that is g., :,.....l there, . . . Thev iav tha: to mountain heisMt.- a:. I Fly "up '".if eagles of holy low: i ) hear laem. tut never ask ! "-'- While t gaze on tlK mt.e l.ii. : Door. I open a bork of inspired th'.nsli;. Treasures that saint may have -i v.r;y bought At anouier time, in uno;m.- pUe-o. ' It might be a fount of the i k-it-sl gr.,.-. . But I close the voium-', and mid V n 1 gaz" on the nttie Tah..n... Door. a It is not praise, it is scarcely pr,iy. r. I onlv think of liim. dwelling t'a- re -The ileal-; that is never str.tr,',-.- :,r .,, I 'ine iove that i; always n-nv arid ;. Till -aresand sorrows can vex no n, r-W r-W hile I gaze on th little T.ihe:-.. , ;s Door. I bring before H!m the crowd?. I d i ; I try to "near wrrru His voice would - e If o". hers are right, and if I am wr-T.u-. Am I the weak, and ar-'1 they :, - r i - 1 pass mv thoughts and my feeiir,- While J "gar on the little T ilen... Door. He so calm and untroubled still. We so tossed by our wayward will. So often .-inking, .-o prone to fall. iie watcheth. lie htaretn. H knowei ,,; Give me, sweet Jesus, of Thy w ;.- i a, i store-While store-While 1 gaze on the little Tabon. e-;.. Deor. II only ask for one word to show The way '1 hou wouldn't have my foots 4 go: . I One little beam of Thy truthful lU'rv. i For the path grows dark, it will soon !, night. And the hour is coming when nevermore fcnall I gaze on the little Tabenia. ie Door. AN OUT-DOOR LITANY. The spur is red upon the briar. ! The sea-kelp whips the waves t-hore. j x i,c v,.:iu Mianes oiit tne colored tire From lamps a-row on the sycamore: The tar.-ager. with flitting not. Shows to wild heaven his wedding coat; The mink is busy: herds again Go hill ward in honeyed rain: The midges meet. I cry to the Whose heart Remember each of thes: Thou art vly God who has forgotten me Bright from the rnast, a scart unwound, The lind. gulls in the offing ride: Along an edge of marshy ground The shad bush enters !ik" -. bride. Yon little clouds ar: washed of care That climb the blue: New Kngiand air. And almost merrily withal The tree frog plays at eve?ifa!l f Hi.- oboe in a mossv tree. So. too. Am I not Thine? Arise, undo This fear Thou hast forgotten me. Happy the vernal rout that come To their due offices today. And strange, if in Thy mercy's t;rru ,' J Excluded ma". a!o:ie decay. e I ask no triumnh. ask no joy. Save only life in law's employ. As to a weed, to me but give Thy sap! lest ay- inoperative Here in the pit my strength shall be; And still JE Help me endure the Tit. until Thou will not have forgotten me. MEMORIES OF IRELAND. j I see in dreams a purple mountain rise Above a verdant vale. Across the azure stretches of the skis I see the cloud-ships sail. A river rippled by a wandering wind Sighs mournfully along. As if its waters grieved to leave behind The beauties here that thror.K-. ' And this- is home, thus1 pictured in niy dreams. This bill is Slie-ven-anmon: And this thft Suir, the queen of all the streams The sunlight plays upon. 1 This is the summer sky of bygone days That on my youthhood smiled. And this) the Golden Valley through: whose ways. I wandered when, a child. Oh. dear dream-pictures of my native Isle Across the spreading seas. You give me grief you give me joy tha while Oh, sad, sweet memories! For. as in. Ireland, throne-h th hlinrlh-ir rain The sun's bright rays are cast: So pleasure mingles in my heart with pair. Remembering the past. MY BEADS. Sweet, blessed beads! I would not part With one of you for richest gem That gleams in kindlv diadem: Ye know the history of my heart. ' For I have toid you every grief In- all the days of twenty yeHrs. And I have moistened vou with tears. And in your decades found relief. Oh! tlm has fled, and friends have failed, H. And joys have died: but in mv needs Ke were my friends, my blessed ix-ads! And ye consoled me when 1 wailed. For many and many a. time, in grief. My weary lingers wandered round Thy circled chain, and always found In some Hail Mary, sweet relief. How many a story you might tell Of inner life, to all unknown; I trusted you and you alone. But ah! ye keep my secrets well. Ye are the only chain. I wear A sign that I arri but a slave. In life, in death, beyond the grave, ' Of Jesus and his mother fair. THE ROY AND THE SPARROW. "Father, say, have you ever heard How best to catch a tiny bird A sparrow?" - ' "A handful of a".t on his little tail Will catch and hold him as fast as a naii. - That sparrow." Then Johnnie got salt about a peck. And-lay in wait, with outstretched neck For sparrows. And as the lirst one ppa on a bough, ne slioped out. crying. "I ve got vol' now. You sparrow!" But away the cunning b'rdie flew And Johnnie knew not what to do I For a sparrow. "Father, father, he will not stav! I threw the salt and he flew awav. That sparrow!" "Has he gone? Well, well! Then let hitrt alone: He is twice as clever as you are, son. That sparrow!" THE FORGOTTEN GRAVE. Out from the city's giant roar You wandered through tho opn or. Paused at a little pail and spade Across a tiny hillock laid. Then noted on your dexter side Some moneyed magnate's "love- or pride." ' And so. beyond a hawthorn tree, Showering its rain of rosy bloom Alike on low and lofty tomb You came upon it suddenly. How strange! The very grasses' growth Around it seemed forlorn and loath, 'I hfr very ivy seemd to turn Askanw that wreathed the neighbor- urn. Sunk was the slab, the head declined And left the rails a wreck behind. No r.sime. You trace a t " a "" " Part of "afnlction".and of -heaven"' And then oh. irony, austere' ' t vl! read ! letters sharp and 'clear. Though lost to sight, to memory dear." , AVE MARIA. (Written for the Intermountain Catholic.) Ave Maria. Angel of light, . Comfort my soul in the coming of night. JNet on my trembling lips linger alwav, ' - -the sweet salutation, Maria Ave! ' Aye Maria, mother most pure hen :he morn- breaks, guard my thought I conjure: ... Fr wa" aTt the mtrnin" star leading IN To heaven's, bright vision, Maria Ave. |
