Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1881, by
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
To my many friends who have been so lenient in their criticisms of my former work, and to the several editors and literary men who have given me so much encouragement, I wish to return my sincere thanks.
All the request I have to make, is, that I hope my efforts this time will receive no more condemnation than my other.
I take pleasure in launching my little volume upon the wide sea of literature. The author is fourteen years of age, but many of the poems were written at a much earlier age.
Be peace on earth, good will to men; And let this now our carol be: If on the land, or on the sea, We still will sing the glad refrain; And in the closing light of day Good words of peace and cheer will say.
The Babe that in the manger born Has risen high above the star, To judge in peace, or judge in war, To judge at night or judge at morn. The star that told us of his birth Has given us joy and lasting mirth.
The Man that suffered on the tree Is risen high above all men; Then swell the glad refrain again-- He died for me, He died for thee: Then peace be ever on the earth To one and all of human birth.
The apple tree has fallen, now-- The axe has laid it low; The blossoms sparkled ere it fell, But now they wither so.
Its shade we now shall seek in vain-- The spot we loved so well Has vanished since the apple tree So loudly crashing fell.
No more the wind sings through the leaves, The song so dear to me; Ah! yes, that rustling far above Was one of melody.
No more we see that staunch old tree-- The axe has laid it low, And much we’ll miss it, evermore, That fall was one of woe.
The Angel of Peace flew over the land, And the country was wild with glee; And she stilled the wave in the stormy night On a rolling and restless sea.
But the Angel of Death flew over the land And a babe was taken that night. And an angel sweet in heaven appeared In the land of glory and light.
In a palace sad and lonely Flit two spectres all the day-- Spectres chasing joy and brightness From each window far away.