Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: THE FUTURE. Oh, thou Future!—sing me thy song all low, Thou stern, mysterious Arbiter to be; What hast thou in thy giving to bestow?— Or Death, or Life Eternal thy decree? I speak not of the plenitude thou hast Of living dowers and bounties to bequeath; But when the years are gathered in, at last, Oh, claim me from the "sluggish clod," and breathe, Once more, within my crumbling form and dust Life's sweet ambrosial spirit that, from the dream And bond of Death, awakening, I may burst Forth into immortal Day, beneath the gleam Of the far-fair vistas of that glorious sphere Whereof have sung the Prophet and the Seer. May, 1894- I WONDER. Ofttimes I gaze into the starlit sky, In the tranquil night, elate, And wonder if, beyond those shining orbs on high, Another destiny for me doth wait— If there, beyond the cold ethereal space, Where a thousand stars are gleaming, I'll find the Haven and the tender Grace Of God, in my last long dreaming. June, 1894. SO THEY SAY. Some Poets, they say, are jealous of each other; Though each unto each should be brother. Let a Poet just ask, sir, of one of his crew An opinion of such and such poem—or two, "They are gems!" he will answer, but— whew!— Let a Critic approach him— The Lord help the poem!— With praises for each line and letter! That Bard, sure enough, Will declare, "It's all stuff!"— That, "A child, two years old, could do better!" Tho' he not as much, I'll bet, Sir. June, 1894. AWAKE. Awake and up, Sydanna! See!—o'er yonder mountain brown the sun is shining. Awake and up, Sydanna, And hie with me, for my heart is sad and pining!— Pining for thee that thou sleepest thus soundly! Hark!—dost thou not hear from yonder Belfry, dear...