Theirs was the father's merry hour sharing their childish bliss, The mother's soft breathed benison and tender, nightly kiss; While strangers who by chance might see their joyous graceful play, To breathe some word of fondness kind would pause upon their way.

But years rolled on, and in their course Time many changes brought, And sorrow in that household gay his silent power wrought!

The sons had grown to gallant men of lofty heart and brow, The fairy like and joyous girls were thoughtful women now.

The hour of changes had arrived, and slowly, one by one, The playmates left the parent's roof, their own career to run; The eldest born, the mother's choice, whose soft and holy smile In childhood's days had told of heart as angel's free from guile.

Formed in resolve, and scorning all earth's pleasures and its fame, Had offered up his life to G.o.d, a teacher of His name: His spirit sighed not long on earth, he found a quiet grave 'Mid forests wild whose shades he'd sought the Red man's soul to save.

Far diff'rent was the stirring choice of his youthful brother gay, His was the glitt'ring sword and flag, the drum, the war steed's neigh; And the proud spirit that had marked his childhood's earliest hour Distinguished still the warrior brave in manhood's lofty power.

Alas for him, and visions vain of fame that lured him on, An early grave in a distant land was the only goal he won!

His gaze bedimmed that yearned for home rested on alien skies, And alien watchers wiped death's damps, and closed his dying eyes.

A third with buoyant heart, had sought far India's burning soil, Thinking to win wealth's treasures by a few years' eager toil, But ere those years had sped their course, from earth's cares he was free,-- He sleeps beneath the shadow of the date and mango tree.

But the sisters who had brightened once the home now desolate-- Lived they to mourn each brother's loss? was theirs a happier fate?

In childhood's sports and youth's high dreams they'd borne a happy part, But severed they were doomed ere long in death to sleep apart.

The tall and dark-eyed girl whose laugh, so full of silvery glee, Had ever told of spirit light, from care and shadow free, Had early left her happy home, the bright and envied bride Of a husband whose ancestral name betokened wealth and pride.

Alas for her who in youth's hour had basked in love's sunshine, That husband stern deserted her in cold neglect to pine; The merry smile soon fled her lip, the sparkling light her eye, In vain she sought a southern clime, she only went to die.

And now of all the lovely band who'd joined in mirth of old, There is, alas! but one sweet flower whose tale remains untold: She was the joy, the pride of all, that gentle girl, and fair,-- With deep and dreamy azure eyes and shining golden hair.

E'en her bold brothers, in their youth, were gentle when she played, From reckless sports, from daring games their eager hands they stayed; And when amid their thoughtless mirth harsh feelings might awake, They ever yielded to her prayers, and rested for her sake.

Oh! hers was far the brightest lot in life's eventful race!

She pa.s.sed from earth ere care had left upon her brow one trace-- She pa.s.sed from earth with loving ones grouped round her dying bed, And on a mother's tender breast rested her throbbing head.

'Twas thus that each beloved one of that bright joyous band, Save her, had found a lonely grave in a far distant land; Yet murmurs 'gainst high heaven's decrees as impious were as vain-- For in far happier regions will that household meet again!

THE VOICES OF THE DEATH CHAMBER.

The night lamp is faintly gleaming Within my chamber still, And the heavy shades of midnight Each gloomy angle fill, And my worn and weary watchers Scarce dare to move or weep, For they think that I am buried In deep and quiet sleep.

But, hush! what are those voices Heard on the midnight air, Of strange celestial sweetness, Breathing of love and prayer?

Nearer they grow and clearer, I hear now what they say-- To the Kingdom of G.o.d's glory, They're calling me away!

See my gentle mother softly To me approaches now, What is the change she readeth Upon my pale damp brow?

She clasps her hands in anguish Whose depth no words might say?

Has she, too, heard the voices That are calling me away?

The father fond of my children, First sole love of my youth, The loving, the gentle hearted, And full of manly truth, Is kneeling now beside me, Beseeching me to stay-- Oh! 'tis agony to tell him They're calling me away.

If earthly love could conquer The mighty power of Death, _His_ love would stay the current Of failing strength and breath!

That voice whose tender fondness So long has been my stay Should tempt me from the voices That are calling me away.

Ah! they bring my children to me, That loved and lovely band, And with wistful awe-struck faces, Around my couch they stand, And I strain each gentle darling To me with wailing cry, As I for the first time murmur: "My G.o.d! 'tis hard to die!"

But, O hark! Those strains of Heaven, Sound louder in mine ear, Whisp'ring: "Thy G.o.d, Thy Father, Will guard those children dear."

Louder they grow, now drowning All sounds of mortal birth, And in wild triumphant sweetness Bear me aloft from earth!

CONTENTS.

Introduction

_SACRED POEMS._

Abraham's Sacrifice

An Afternoon in July

An Autumn Evening at Murray Bay

Ash Wednesday

Beneath the Snow

Blind Man of Jericho

Canadian Snow Fall

Canadian Summer Evening

Emigrants' Monument at Point St. Charles

Fall of the Leaf

Garden of Gethsemane

Huron Chief's Daughter

Jacques Cartier's First Visit to Mount Royal

Looking Forward

Magdalen at the Madonna's Shrine