Young Konkaput, the king of Utes : a legend of Twin Lakes ; and, Occasional poems
Haskell, Thomas Nelson, 1826-1906
A MOCRNTN<t scene in ANDOVER SEMINARY. The funeral obsequies of Professor Stuart Phelps, Mr. Green- ough Thayer and Misses Gonld and Safiford, whose sudden death by drowning and accident seemed a Divine mystery. (Aug. 1883.) l. A cloud of sorrow hangs o’er Zion’s Hill ! ' A sable cloud, although the skies are clear ; Each face is sad — too sad to shed a tear, And wise men wonder at their Maker’s will ! Up Zion’s beaten walks are reverent borne The learned and old, with loving, weary feet ; Holy Divines and Israel’s Mothers meet. In sacred sympathy with them that mourn ! Young men and maidens, youth and children fair. Come pale with sorrow, anguish and surprise. To join in worship with the just and wise. And mingle hearts in mournful hymns and prayer. II. For in (^d’s temple, near his altar, rest Four sleeping beauties, paragons of art Divine, whose symmetry of mind and heart Suggest the bloom of souls among the blest : Two manly forms, with youth and thought impressed. Once children at that sacred altar seen. Whose loving hearts longed on their Lord to lean. Whose souls are now borne to their Savior’s breast ; Two lovely “daughters of the Lord of Lights,’’ The polished palace of the Holy Ghost, , Whose hallowed beauties won the Heavenly host — These four ! receive now there their funeral rites ! m. The choicest harvest from that chosen hill. They’re gathered thence as God’s first fruits and flowers. Borne to His gamer and to grace His bowers, While mourners worship their wise Master’s will ! SKCOND ANNIVERSARY OF SORROW. 41 O service rare ! O sorrow so divine ! O mingled teats of Earth with joys of Heaven ! O truest wealth of God’s best treasures given, Borne hence in beauty in God’s home to shine ! Here sore and bleeding hearts are soothed and healed, By coronation scenes where such are crowned, Where bliss and peace so blend and so abound That God’s beneficence is all revealed ! A SECOND ANNIVERSARY OF SORROW. On a Denver tomb is inscribed : j “ Florence Edwards - ; : Born in Boston, March 27, 1859; \ Died in Denver, October 5, 187 j ” “The melancholy days have come, the saddest of the year.” “ ’Tis infamy to die and not be missed.” The falling days have come, so sadly fair, When plains and mountains and plume waving trees Put on the weird light, woven like the hair Of some bright damsel drifting in the breeze To tease a lover, ill at ease to seize Her fairy form in chaste and fond embrace ; And now my fancy, through affection, sees An absent fair one with an angel’s face. II. Two years I’ve lingered round the lonely spot Where Florence fell asleep, no more to wake To share the shade and sunshine of our lot ; Her last request was ; " Papa, sing “Jesus, Lover of my Soul ! Let me to Thy bosom fly.’** 42 HASKELL’S DOMESTIC POEMS. And deeper, sorer doth my sad heart ache, And break — asleept — awake — whene’er I make One mention of her name and noble deeds ; And I could even die for her dear sake. While lovely Autumn all my longing leads. “DEAR FLONIE.’’ We buried her two years ago to-day ! We left her sleeping on the lonely hill ; And though a hundred weeks have hied awaj I see her stately form and features still, And still I feel the chill and fearful thrill Of anguish, as her cold, dead lips I press. And pray for grace to suffer all God’s will Nor so the longer time leaves sorrow less ! MRS. EDWARD’S DYING WORDS. 43 IV. ’Twas no dull deed to lay our daughter dowu, Among the thickly strewn and stranger dead, When garnering Autumn hung her golden crown Upon declining day, above our head, Aud led our solemn tread, and on us shed Her soul of sympathy, as if to say The kindest words that ever could he said In this sad world, where all will pass away ! V. Yet Hope hears often in the holy air Repeated, as by saintly souls, “Rejoice !” While Autumn’s halo, like an Angel’s hair. Hangs round the vision of that Heavenly voice. And joys, unsullied with alloys and noise Of Earth, sit waiting from their happy seats above Till a deep blessedness no blight destroys Brings to our embrace our Dear Departed Rove Denver, October 6, 1875. MRS. JUSTIN EDWARD’S DYING WORDS. (February 4, A. D. 1868.; ‘ ‘ I fear nothing' in life or death so much As that I shall not love my Lord enough.” ' I. I feel a great, a grievous fear ; Not that this world’s bewitching charm Can do my spirit further harm ; I’ve given to Heaven all I hold dear : I fear not even the power of death ; I know not what it is to die : But Christ has died — then so can I ; To Him I freely yield my breath : But still fear trembles in my breast ; My timid heart I can not trust. Though healed of every conscious lust, 44 HASKELL’S DOMESTIC POEMS. And of its loves my Lord is best— Still, I do fear I love Him not According to His loveliness, His willing power my soul to ble::S , I do not love Him as I ought ! II. In life or death there’s naught I fear So much as that I shall not love My Savior like the saints above, Though now He is surpassing dear. While He has loved and called me His, Has pardoned me in words of peace. Has made all other fears to cease. And sealed my soul an heir of bliss— Still, still, there ’s one— this lingering grief. That here I can not love Him more ! O, when I reach the heavenly shore. Will sight surpass my poor belief? Death’s billows seem both cold and rough ; The grave is dark and filled with gloom ; But He has lighted up my tomb— I fear I’ll love Him not enough ! III. O blessed fear ! where love hath cast Out other fears and filled their place With offspring of that loving grace Which clings to Christ so close and fast. Pants for still higher love of Him, And on the wings of peace sublime Soars out beyond the scenes of Time To vie with saints and seraphim ! We look, through tears of joy and grief. And long, dear one, like thee to love ; We mark thy welcome from above ; Thy glory gives us sweet relief. DEATH OF A BENEFACTRESS. 45 DEATH OF A BENEFACTRESS. An impromptu on hearing of the death of Mrs. Judge Farwell Hitchcock, who aided students at Andover and elsewhere. (September 15, 1883.) Thou benefactress of our youth. Most kind and wise to me ; Whose every look was love and truth, Whose choice was charity ; Thou cherished friend ; thou child of God; In good old age hast gone ; And this the word now sent abroad By thy last heir and lone : ‘ ‘ We laid her body down to rest — Down in its bed of dust — While she was borne among the blest, Triumphing in her trust ! ‘ Eye hath not seen, nor hath ear heard, Nor heart of man conceived Her gladness with her glorious Lord, In whom she hath believed !’ ” I see Him on His great white throne ; I see the sainted dead ; I hear thy heavenly accents own Our Lord, thy living head ; I listen to thy words of love, With those who went before ; This bears my heart of hearts above. To Him whom I adore. Our Savior's cross insures thy crown. And dries the mourner’s tear ; We would not dare to bring thee down ; We would not wish thee here ; But rather beg redeemed to be With thee thus highly blessed ; Thy saintly life in Heaven to see, And with thee be at rest ! 57 46 HASKELL'S DOMESTIC POEMS. rizpah, the concubine of sauI/ ; a mother’s, sister’s love. The Gibeonites said to King David : We will have no gold nor silver from the house of Saul, neither shalt thou kill for us any man in Israel. But the man that consumed us and devised that we should be destroyed, let seven of his sons be given us. So the King took two sons of Rizpah, whom she bore to Saul, and five sons of Merab, Saul’s daughter, and gave them to the Gibeonites, and they hanged them on a hill before the Lord ; and Rizpah took sackcloth and spread it for her on a rock, from the beginning of harvest till water dropped upon them out of Heaven, and suffered neither the birds of the air to rest on them by day nor the beasts of the field by night.— II Sam., xxi ; 4-14. The silent concubine of Saul Sat desolate beside her dead, From rising Spring till the rain-fall Had Autumn o’er the hill-tops spread ; Nor birds nor beast could bear away Or tear the flesh of corses there ; For weeks, for months, by night, by day. She kept them with her constant care ! Such patient sorrow never was surpassed ; It fixed forever on the scroll of fame The legend of her love that e’er shall last. In noblest rainbows around Rizpah’s name ! Still her example impels highest arts And lives immortal in maternal love. For to Centennials that scene imparts * Paintings so matchless they all pity move ! * “ There is no picture in all the art exhibits that creates as much wonder and occasions so many cnrious speculations as the colossal painting in the French department representing Rizpah defending her sons. The story of the famine for which they were immolated as an atonement, is found in II. Samuel, chap¬ ter xxi. The artist, George Becker of Paris, shocked the critical world of Europe by the production of this ghastly picture, and even Gustave Dore, whose imagination has conceived some of the most horrible of subjects, acknowledged that he had been surpassed in intensity when Rizpah was first shown to the pub¬ lic. All have acknowledged the extraordinaiy power of this work. The painting is a little larger than life size, and looms up fir above any of its surroundings, and a single view creates an impression that can never be forgotten.” — Exchange. RIZPAH AND OTHERS’ HEROIC DOVE. 47 Even when ’twas brought the King, her patience brave, He took her crucified t with tender care. Garnered them up in Saul’s ancestral grave. And their fond ashes housed forever there. The love of woman as aunt, sister, true. Hath also outdone all the hates of men. For Rizpah watched o’er Merab’s offspring, too. And Madam Scovilles wield a mournful pen. Love brought a sister J o’er the briny sea. Who did such bravery for her brother show As set him from the hempen halter free. And judge and jury joined to let him go — The admiration, she, of many a moistened eye That chanced her love to see of cheering ministry ; And hence proceeds we know — for it hath proven so — That Woman’s Love below ’s the bravest thing the heavens bestow ! HAGAR, THE EGYPTIAN MAID. [Now Sarai, Abraham’s wife, before she had received the promise concerning Isaac, had a hand maid, an Egyptain, and Sarai said to Abraham ; “ It may be that I shall obtain children by Hagar.” But when she conceived Sarai, dealt harshly with her and she fled. And the angel of the Dord found her by a fountain in the wilderness, and said : Return to thy mistress. Thou Shalt bear a son, and call his name Ishmael,* because the Dord hath heard thy affliction. And she called the name of the Dord that spoke unto her: Thou God— seest me!]— Gen. xvi., I-I4, XXV., II. When Hagar heard the heavenly voice It all her wayward steps reclaimed. And bade her bleeding heart rejoice ; ■ Beer-La-Hai-Rai the fount she named. t Douay version says “crucifled.” t Mrs Scoville’s letter, in behalf of the brother who assass¬ inated Garfield, is only surpassed by the conduct of Mrs Powers, who came from London to save the life of her brother, on trial for killing his wife’s seducer, in Denver, Colorado, 1881-82. 48 HASKELL’S DOMESTIC POEMS. The well of Him that seeth me, Who liveth as my Lord and guide ; This is the fount that freeth me From guilt, oppression, grief and pride ! Since her harsh mistress deemed her maiden vile. The enceinte Hagar hastened from her ire. And resting weary by this well awhile, She hears a human voice from Heaven inquire : “Whence comest thou, and whither wouldst thou go?’^ The knowing tongue pronounces, too, her name. And shares her sorrows, so as well to show He knows her character and whence she came. She calls Him Lord, indeed, who thus addressed her ; “Thou art the God that seest me,” she said ; For she had sought Him, and He forthwith blessed her. And the dear life by one as good as dead. No maxim could have so much truth embalmed. No precept prompted such parental prayer, No written counsel the riled spirit calmed Like this Theophany,t so timely there ! Still, household piety reveals its powers To pass from heart to heart and place to place. Till alien members in their anxious hours Are sealed as kindred heirs of covenant grace. God ne’er as an unwelcome guest intrudes. But comes to all those craving to be blessed ; No age, nor sex, nor circumstance excludes Him from the hearts that want the heavenly guest ; Nor are His searching sight and hearing ear Afar from those who wish Him near to hear ! Ishtnael means, God shall hear, f Theophany, an appear¬ ance of God. HA-GAR’S SORROW. 49 HAGAR’S SECOND SCENE OF SORROW. [And it came to pass, after some fifteen years, that Sarah saw Ishmael mocking her son Isaac, and she said : Cast out Hagar, the bondwoman, and her son, for he.shall not be heir with my son Isaac. And Abraham took bread and a bottle of water and gave to Hagar, and sent her away. And she wandered in the wilderness of Beer-Sheba, and when their water was spent she laid her child under a shrub and went over against- him and wept. And God heard the voice of the lad also, and called out of Heaven : What aileth thee, Hagar? Fear not, lift up the lad, for I will make him a great nation.] — Gen. xx., 1-21. When following in his weary way Man’s sorrows seem the more severe If duplicated day by day, Or even repeated year by year ; But that weak woman, once alone. With none but heaven to see or hear. Hath now in solitude the moan Of her starved child upon her ear ! Two lives are clinging to the desert’s breast ; Two weary outcasts wilt beneath the sun ; Their burning thirst forbids them both to rest ; Of either strength or water they have none ! So Hagar lays her darling down to die. Beneath a withered shrub, and steals away ; She can not look upon his languid eye. And seeks in perfect solitude to pray. When two wrecked sailors on an untried sea Are drifting deathward on a shifting spar, And one is entering eternity From the wide waste of waters, off so far, O hear the cry of help that rends the sky ! So Hagar wept a-heart-rent mother’s wail Of utter woe ! Her anguished, bleating cry, With Ishmael’s blending, doth with God prevail. 50 HASKELL’S DOMESTIC POEMS. He hears the voice of the half-dying lad ; His angel calls to Hagar. out of Heaven ; “ What aileth thee, thou woman, wan and sad? A hardy nation as thine heir is given Through this thy son : Go take him by the hand. For now a fountain’s flowing near and clear. Another La-Hai-Rai, and I will stand To guard thy child ; therefore, be of good cheer ; Thy seed shall live sovereign of many a land!” — Hence as years onward run, Mohammed is her son. PARENTAL CONSECRATION OF OUR POSTERITY TO CHRIST. “By faith Abraham, being tried, hath oflFered up Isaac, of whom it was said : In Isaac shall thy seed be called. And the Lord called unto him out of heaveu and said : Because thou hast not withheld thine only son from me, I will multiply thy seed as the stars of Heaven, and in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed.— And Jesus said unto the Jews ; Your father Abraham desired to see my day, and he saw it and was glad.— For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have ever¬ lasting life.” Sometimes at night, when all still. The words of God upon us fall, And melt in His our human will, And make us give to Him our all. The dearest idol we have known. Be it a son, or sin, or treasure, He bids us take it from its throne And place it wholly at his pleasure. Such was the scene that night of wondrous sorrow In Abra’am’s tent, when God appeared and said : “Take now thine only son, and on the morrow, Bead him in sacrifice among the dead.” PARKNTAIv CONSECRATION. 51 And Abraham rose early the next morn, And took the wood, an ass, and two young men. And Isaac, Sarah’s first and only born. And wandered, following God, o’er hill and glen. On the third day, he saw the Mount Moriah, Of which God told him in the midnight voices, The Calvary scene of the foreshown Messiah, In which all nations’ hope ere now rejoices ; He then, in words of tender, solemn meaning. Said: “Wait ye here, while we go worship yon¬ der And, on his son the cross-like timbers leaning. They onward press, while Angels look and wonder. When to the place of sacrifice they ’ve come. And Isaac ’s on his burden bound, in grief He asks : “ Is there no lamb ?” and then is dumb ; So Abra’am’s offering Isaac, through belief. Was finished — in obedience all was done. But Heaven’s Redeemer flew to his relief ; God gave Himself, the Lamb— His only Son ! Jehovah Jireh of our hopes is chief ! All nations thus before us now arise. And ask the offering of our only sons — To pioneer some saving enterprise. To fight, to win, among faith’s martyred ones ; And when the God of Abraham thus sees Our love will not withhold from Him our lives. But gives up all, the God of Heaven to please. All nations’ good in our own gift revives. When Canaan’s sires their sons to Moloch threw, ’Twas murder in the first degree, in fact , When Agamemnon Iphigenia slew. >Twas imitation of their muderous act ; 52 HASKELI^’S DOMESTIC POEMS. But when God gave His only Son to die— When Jesus in His love lays down His life, There is so grand a moral reason why, It straightway helps to heal all human strife. And leads whole martyr bands to homes on high. SARAH’S DEATH SCENE ; OR ABRAHAM, A WIDOWER. To give to God an only Son, And then receive him back again, As Abraham had lately done. Unfolds the hopeful faith of men To meet, indeed, their dead once more, . Beyond this narrow bound of time. Upon some bright and blissful shore. To share in life’s eternal prime. Soon after faith had gained that great achievement, Did Abraham drink deep of the well of Marah The bitter waters of this sore bereavement ; An aged widower, he weeps for Sarah, The bosom friend of life’s long burdened journey ; For she has gone where Saints of God now tread The plains of Heaven ; no pastor nor attorney Assists him bury from his sight his dead. He sees her dying form sink down in death ; He shrouds her precious corpse for the cold grave ; He buys of Ephrom, wily son of Heth, The grov^e Machpela, and within its cave He lays her down for her long silent slnmbers. Till He, whom Isaac’s life from d.eath proclaims. Shall raise the righteous dead in countless numbers. And call them each by their endearing names. I see the lone old man, as on the morrow He sits down in the door of his deserted tent ; His saddened voice, his dim eyes swollen with sorrow. Seem following where her faithful spirit went. ELIEZER AND REBEKAH. 53 The only object of his early troth ; And so he mourns and weeps, and then doth make His trusted servant of long life give oath To get Rebekah, for his son to take, And keep their chastened home and cheer them both — So death and marriage soon near neighbors are ; That servant’s care and prayer are also rich and rare I EL,IEZER AND REBEKAH. [Read Genesis xxiv.— So Sincere and Simple.] See that old servant’s sacred care In every feature of his face, As he lilt^ up his voice in prayer In that peculiar, public place. ’Tis near an ancient city’s gate. Where damsels turn at eventide. And by the well in beauty wait. Each for her turn to be supplied. Ten camels, resting from their weary way. Are kneeling closely round him side by side , • There by that well, he also bows— to pray The Lord to help him find the looked-for bride. And his petitions and his pious care. And his appeals to maiden and to men. Are all so delicate, delightful, fair, They point with beauty the inspired pen. This marks a social scene most sacred yet In all the pious patriarchial years ; And how God helped the good old man to get The beautiful Rebekah, still appears As chaste and charming as an Angel child, As pure and providential as a potent prayer,. While her chaste beauty every charm beguiled, Till she is given all Abram’s goods to share^ And have proud Israel, too, her princely heir. 58 54 HASKEWS DOMESTIC POEMS. So EUezer of Damascus sought This loveliest damsel of the distant laud ; And, by God’s guidance, he both gained and brought Her, as all hearts confessed, at Heaven’s command. Do now the heirs of Isaac’s lovely bride Bring water from the well at Nazareth ; Still, damsels there, with most delicious pride. Fill water-pots from famous wells beneath ; They “ virgins are, and beautiful ” beside ! Once in the Orient at eventide, I went without a town to watch and wait. As a dear, gray old Damascene did guide His camel train to camp beside the gate ; The high-toned merchant’s man turned on his heel And called his noble camels, each by name, To come and near him in close contact kneel ; And with complete alacrity they came. And bent around him as a barricade, In kind obedience as could ever be. And in a circle most securely made. His brow he next did bare, and bent the knee ; With head unturbaned and with brow serene. He seemed so solemn when the sun was set, I never can forget that far off scene ; ’Tis “Eliezer of Damascus ” yet — Though miles and years by thousands intervene ; Still Orient manners show what ancient annals mean. ELI SMITH AND BETSEY JONES. 55- ELI AND BETSEY. “Be not unequally yoked together with unbelievers.” — St. Paul. When Horace Greeley bade all the young men, “Ga West!” One Eli Smith obeyed. The maid he there liked best Was Betsey Jones, a lovely and a beauteous lass. Whose mind was clear and kind, and always led her class ; And now a teacher rare, and of the noblest rank. She had money to spare, held in a “maiden’s bank.” Though conscientiously a connoisseur of art. She knew our history, till now, almost by heart ; Had studied so well, too, the weal of Church and State, That she would make, indeed, a worthy magistrate. But she’s a widow’s daughter ; was bred in sorrows deep 1 Her mother used to work and weep while others sleep. So girded self and daughter with such faith in God That, as His children, both were chastened by His rod. Hence Betsey was held fair and brave and beautiful. And to her mother, dear, most fond and dutiful ; A model woman — made, indeed, in finest mold In every sense was good, and worth her weight in gold. But mother had a longing ‘for a model home. Whither she and Betsey might together come ; There shed their blended love, and bless with shining- light All those within, around, from morning until night. Now Eli Smith ’s a clown ; a smart but low-lived clod ! Who knows so little good he greatly dislikes God. He simply knows he wants a good sort of a wife. To give himself a lift, in his low, sordid life. 36 HASKELL’S DOMESTIC POEMS He loved praise, also, mucli ; and Betsey was ad¬ mired ; So, to feel proud of such, his passion was inspired. Until he bravely asked that she become his bride. When her acceptance proved an increase of his pride. For when he took her off from usefulness in school, He also showed her off with actions of a fool ! Their contrast was so sad, that callers often sighed ; More — it became so bad, that Betsey’s mother died. When with them over-worked two ever weary years — So worn out all the time she had no time for tears ! Then Betsey’s double task, beneath his dire appeals. To get for hired men eleven hundred meals — Three each for every day, her duties never done, And thoroughly, unseen by any thankful one — Such ceaseless cares as these for such a soulless clown. Without a breath of ease, soon broke poor Betsey down ! But, when she went to rest, in Heaven, among the blest, Did Eli win another damsel in the West ? - - - This question would be answered, were it really best. MARRIAGE AND THE FAMILY. [I will that the younger women marry, bear children, be mis¬ tresses of families and give np occasion to the adversary to speak evil.] — St. Paul in Douay Bible, I. Timothy, v. 14. ’Mong all the modes of mortal men. Than marriage n one’s more beautiful ; From ancient times this rite hath been To human fate most merciful. The Master’s first great miracle. Of heavenly art in human aid. Marked specially this spectacle Of marriage vows by man and maid. MARRIAGE AND THE FAMILY. 57 And this involves freedom from vice, A chastity therewith, to cherish More beauty than a Beatrice In sharing peace that ne’er shall perish. Creating Home akin to Heaven, While bride and groom breathe loving grace. And children good and choice are given. That fill with pleasure all the place. These rise up full of filial feeling, And bless their parents as predicted ; While Heaven bends down to bless with healing. If home be affluent or afflicted. So fatherhood and motherhood Are God’s most glorious gifts to mortals ; And it’s distinctly understood. Here parents tread the heavenly portals. So to be head of such a home, And mistress of its family. Here counts our heirs in time to come ; Aye, here and in eternity. No language doth her life display. Advancing ever down the ages ; And hence Saint Paul did here portray The picture so oft put by sages ; I would that maids be wives and mothers ! And have their homes pure-hearted ; Where fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers. Have each their part imparted ! 58 HASKULL’S DOMESTIC POEMS. AN IDEAL FAMILY ON THE FRONTIER. As an illustration of the Socratic and Pauline ideals of family life, even along the frontier, let the following sketch of my oldest brother be read. He was at the same time both my foster father and spiritual child, a fraternal trinity, three in one— father, brother and son — and was very dear to me. The article was published soon after his death, in 1887, by the Western Reserve Chronicle, the oldest paper in Northern Ohio, and will be seen to be appropriate for this place, as an encouragement for other young men and women to go and do likewise. The Chronicle says : It is not often the death of a private citizen by natural disease at his own home demands extensive public notice, but in the case of the late George H. Haskell, of Bloomfield, the people of the northern part of the State have evinced so much interest that we devote space in this issue to his example as worthy to inspire all in private life to be both loving and useful. “Henry Haskell” was extensively known as a good and patriotic citizen, an earnest Christian and a very faithful and affectionate husband, father, brother and friend. In his last sickness his house was visited by anxious inquirers from near and far. His death was a surprise to multitudes of warm friends who had known him only to honor and love him, and his funeral was attended by the populace generally, and by many from the neighboring towns. The services in the Union Church were conducted by Rev. Dr. Hickok, and, based upon “the new song” of the Redeemed in Heaven (Rev. v., 9-12), were peculiarly appropriate and impressive. Multitudes came who could not gain admittance, but all seemed assured that a good man had gone to glory and to God. AN IDEAL FAMILY. 59 George Heury Haskell — the sou of Captain George Haskell, who was in his day as extensively and favor¬ ably known — was born in Middlebury, Vt., October 4, 1814. He spent his early years in Chautauqua county, N. Y., whence he came to Bloomfield in his fifteenth year, and, as the oldest son, helped pay for the farm and support the family. Also, at his father’s death, in 1840, he became the foster brother of the three youngest children — Pliny Fisk, now a promi¬ nent citizen of Geneva ; Thomas Nelson, for many years a settled pastor in Washington and Boston, and now in Denver, and Lucy Proctor, the wife of Judge Chapman, of Hutchinson, Kansas. These all testify to the remarkable kindness and good graces of Henry’s native and Christian character. He married on his birthday, forty-nine years ago. Miss Abby Foster of Youngstown, with whom, for near half a century, he set an admired example of connubial felicity, and by whom he reared and edu¬ cated a delightful and model family. His oldest son, Pliny Nelson, was a graduate of Amherst, superin¬ tendent of schools in Hyde Park, and died two years ago, the brilliant and much lamented partner of Leonard Sweet (Lincoln’s law partner), in Chicago. The second son — Henry, Jr. — is an esteemed citizen of Youngstown, and the third — Sidney M. — is at the head of Public Instruction in the city of Aurora, Ill. His eldest daughter is the widow of the late President 5. H. Marsh, D. D., of Pacific University, Oregon — son of a former President of Vermont University, and cousin of United States Minister George P. Marsh, the renowned scholar and diplomatist. Another daughter is wife of a college professor, and one re¬ mains at home to comfort the afidicted mother and youngest brother, yet in his teens. 60 HASKELL’S DOMESTIC POEMS. We give this sketch of Mr. Haskell and his family because we believe it will be interesting and useful. It is good to see how God has rewarded the good man’s fidelity from his laborious youth up. His early exposures and hardships can hardly be appreciated by the present and uprising generations. Henry Haskell had scanty educational advantages, yet he encouraged his brothers and sisters, and all his chil¬ dren, to become learned and useful. When helping to clear away the forest, he was attacked by an enor¬ mous wolf, and killed him single handed with an axe ; and up to the month of his death, at the ripe age of seventy-three years, he was distinguished for his industry, his daring and devotion to duty, and for many years the example of himself and family will serve as an inspiration to all who ever saw him, and remember his humble, faithful and laborious life, and hear of his last resultant words — “ I am happy ! Oh, so happy !” A VIRTUOUS MOTHER TO HER SON OF MANY VOWS. “O Lemuel, my son, the son of my vows, it is not for kings to drink wine, nor give their strength unto women, but to open thy mouth for the dumb, and plead the cause of the poor.” If we accept the Rabbi’s word. That Lemuel was Solomon, The wisest mother ever heard Addressed both names, as if but one. Such words of wisdom as will live Like loving angels in all lands Declaring — Though God doth forgive. Still Virtue as the victor stands ! This chastened mother, of King David’s choice. Who sang with him his ‘ ‘penitential psalm,” (51) Speaks thus with special and inspired voice. That breathes on all the earth a healthy balm. A VIRTUOUS MOTHER. 61 Of Christ a mother, through King Solomon, Whom she declares her son of solemn vow, She sends her message to each mother’s son, To aid his nobler nature even now. Her thoughts that thrill and yearn, thro’ wprds that burn. And warn each son against all ways of sin,(Prov 7) Are laws of life which none too early learn. Or their obedience too soon begin. Her perfect pictnre of the perfect wife (Prov. 31) The wisest earth hath seen or e’er will see — She sends each Temuel * to cheer his life And teach the world what a true wife should be. It’s not yet in the power of human speech Pictures more chaste and charming e’er to paint, Than those her words of tender warning teach. To shun lewd sinners and to live a saint. (Prov. 5) Such hath Bath Sheba in earth’s history been ; Her pious penitence seems unsurpassed ; Her power to influence, even public men. Did not the least desert her to the last ; But in experience bold, pungent and deep. She would the wise from shame and folly keep ; Or in their fall “would fain like Peter weep ! ’’ ABIGAIL, THE WISE AND BEAUTIFUL WIFE AND WIDOW. And David sent ten young men to say to the servants of Nabal : Peace be to thy master and to all that is his ! And Nabal answered: Who is David? Then Abigail, his wife, a woman wise and beautiful, made haste and came down and said : Upon me let Nabal’s iniquity be, but when the Lord hath dealt well with thee, then remember thine handmaid. — I. Samuel xxv : 2-24. Behold that armed and incensed host Of God’s annointed fugitive. When hastening to rebuke the boast Of one “ too brutish even to live ;’’ * Lemuel— God with him— applies to any pious person. 59 .62 HASKELL’S DOMESTIC POEMS. And the pause of the procession Before a woman wise and fair, Who, through her eloquent confession. Saved property and life by prayer. When Abigail alights at David’s feet, His legion halts ; “ their arms to earth are bent,” And eyes to eyes in admiration meet, As she propitiates his stern intent. And with prophetic, patriotic speech, Reveals the one divinely sanctioned path By which he may true regal greatness reach, Avoiding rashness and Jehovah’s wrath. When cultured woman comes thus with her charms And stands, with balm for wounds and prayers for peace. Before the march of angry men in arms, Their wrath severe is pretty sure to cease ; Their Chieftain, cherishing his love concealed For absent bride or sweetheart, stands at bay. And through their ranks a thrill of joy ’s revealed— So warriors wait, and woman wins the day ! When armies on the move for fierce attack, So halt in silence to be so addressed, And then, with grand good will and thanks turn back, There is true eloquence, by all confessed ; And when the Chief, in every inch a King, Protects the woman, and then takes to wife ‘‘ The rich young widow,” we rejoice to sing : ‘‘ Heaven bless such happy means of healing strife, And let the realm with real laudations ring And future seasons sacred fruitage bring !” CHRISTMAS READINGS. CHRISTMAS READINGS FOR OUR CHILDREN. [“Unto US a Child is born, unto us a Son is given, and the government shall be upon His shoulder, and His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. Of the increase of His government and peace there shall be no end. And Jesus said : Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not ; for of such is the kingdom of God. Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature, and lo, I am with you always, unto the end of the world.” — Isaaihix., 6; Mark, x., 14; xvi., 15; Matthew xxviii., 20.] Jesus came to cheer the children, Laid His hands upon their heads ; Looks still on them every evening, As they seek their little beds ; Aye,- is with them then and always. And He sees them everywhere. Listening to their happy voices — In their pastime and their prayer. Come, dear children, can you tell me why the Christ doth love ypu so? Why He looks so kindly on you, everywhere you rightly go ? Why He sees you, and is sorry, when you sin and go astray ? Why He heard you, and with pleasure, when you play and when you pray ? He was once Himself a baby, laid upon a lowly bed ; Then He grew to early boyhood, and His little play¬ mates led ; Then became a “Man of Sorrows,” had not where to lay His head ; But He carried others’ burdens, healed their sick and raised their dead. Once He took a child that loved Him, led him forth before the crowd, 64 HASKELL’S DOAfESTIC POEMS. Saying: “Ye must be converted, no more doubting, cruel, proud. Or ye can not enter Heaven ; for the child-like, they are mine ; All your sins must be forgiven ; clean your record, every line. And your hearts as chaste and happy as the choicest little child. Yes, ye must be all converted, like me, lowly, meek and mild. And, like children, fond and trustful ; for in this I tell you true, That their angels see my father, face to 'face, with fondest view ! “ Notice, children, how Christ loves you ; for He knows how children feel ; Aye, He calls you closer to Him, that He may your heartaches heal ; And He says: “If you believe Him, better that* a man be drowned. Than to make your hearts to hate Him or your enemy be found.” Then let children hasten to Him, and let no one dare forbid. For of such is God’s own kingdom, and their Hght can not be hid. ’Twas the child-like that loved Jesus when He lived and died on earth; Then to all “A Merry Christmas” who would cele¬ brate his birth ! He is King of every country; tell the world His wondrous worth ! NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS. 65 “the mothers of new ENGLAND, AND NEW ENGLAND AS A MOTHER, TOO.” lA toast at Bunker Hill Centennial— Denver, July 17, 1875.] {Prelude.) “The Mothers of New England, and New England as a Mother, too,” Are themes so fruitful and so grand. So monumental and so true, That like our mountains in the West, Or granite shaft on Bunker Hill, They greet us when we go to rest. And when we wake stand watching still. These themes you give ; so sacred they. That well we pause before the past. Where those who bore us used to pray, And o’er the coming future cast Their looks of longing, love and awe. And prayed that Puritanic leaven Might work, through liberty and law. From land to land, from Earth to Heaven. Their prayers were heard ; a score of States Now walk New England’s noblest ways. Nor either for another waits. But on they press, like busy days. With common impulse, efforts, cares. With people that are Puritan Or made pf stuff as stern as theirs— New England bears both States and men ! I. THE MOTHERS OF NEW ENGLAND. (There is no mother but was once a maid.) Presenting this prolific theme Requires a sort of resum^. Of scenes historic, as they'seem, Until the dead live here to-day ! HASKELI-’S DOMESTIC POEMS. Nor yet the dames alone re-live — Before the mother was the maid — So we must dames and damsels give, Till Yankee Woman stands arrayed NELLIE -A-XN DOVER.— A YANKEE GIRL- (1880). In all her moral wealth of mind. True caution and true culture, too ; So conscientious and so kind You could but trust her, brave and true. “ The Courtship of Miles Standish ” seems But yesterday. The May Flower lies At anchor on our sea of dreams. Beneath the cold December skies ; And Mary Chilton, maiden fair. First plants her feet on Plymouth Rock, And leads Rose Standish, loving, there. Followed by Brewster and his flock. NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS. 67 If I had Thomas Crawford’s skill, Or Story’s, in his “Sybil” seen, Or Harriet Hosmer’s — standing still Before Palmyra’s beauteous Queen, I’d make a model of this maid, Clad plain, as “Liberty” complete. Her robes of Freedom well arrayed, With sword and shield and laurels meet. And future empires at her feet ; Yes, such would seem that Yankee maid ! MADAME DORCHESTER, (1870). A New England Mother, Bom Near the Heights Historic in the Siege of Boston. Then near her side should sit another. Symmetrical, with sacred features, That model, “The New England Mother,” - Completest of Christ’s earthly creatures I’d make her form of fearless mold ; Her look serene as summer light, In which would beam a wealth untold Of firm regard for God and right. 68 HASKELL’S DOMESTIC POEMS. As when, upon Dorchester heights Madam John Adams watched the war, And calmly saw the sublime sights Her fearless soul had long sought for, With all the breadth of brow and brains. Her portraits here and there present. The Yankee mother still retains Her features and her firm intent. These in this person thence appear. Both solid, brave and sensible ; As if she now were sitting near That very place upon Peinn’s Hill, The patriot cannonade to hear. In her embrace a bright-eyed child — No urchin, nor yet churlish elf. But looking mindful,- loving, mild — Sits in her lap, her second self. The dame somewhat demurely sees The life work of that little one ; Yet, doubting not Divine decrees. Would wish the Will Divine be done. Ecoiiomy could not compete With her considerate watch and care ; Her character is so complete. She’s owned a model everywhere. Bathsheba’s ideal bride is she. In every wifely excellence. What all the world would wish to see — A husband’s best inheritance ! {Most Sons deem their own Mothers such.) Might one speak here from his full heart, ^ I’d lead forth one of perfect life. Whose form surpassed the power of art, A model woman, mother, wife. NE;w ENGLAND MOTHERS. I’d own my memory first awake, With her soft hand upon my head, While her kind spirit, whispering, spoke So plain I knew the prayer she said. Although she died when I was young, I know she ’s living near me now ; I hear the accents of her tongue ; I feel her hand upon my brow ! Your hearts feel, too, such a fond hand? How it still rests upon your head ! When Mother, stooping near, doth stand. Or bends down o’er your dainty bed ! Yes, in your households you have seen Her likeness in the lives you lead ; How quietly she holds, as Queen, The parents, children, all, indeed ! So, when I see walk by my side. In a grown Yankee girl’s free grace. The goodly form that was my guide. How more than fair ’s my mother’s face Nor does the home on Burial Hill, Of one both dear, of Boston birth. Throw off her power my heart to thrill. Because in her my wife shone forth. {Shall one praise his Wife when she is away?) My Boston Wife ! May I declare The beauties of my better part, (Especially since she ’s not here,) The hope and motor of my heart? God bless these bachelors around. With helpmeets half as good as mine ; Your world would then be holier ground. And life be deemed far more divine. Ah ! had your fathers faltered thus. And left your mothers still alone, 6o 70 HASKELL’S DOMESTIC POEMS. You would not now have been with us ; What else had failed cannot be known. Thank Heaven, all ye with Yankee wives ; Ye ’ve got a good thing from above ! May latest times re-live your lives, And childrens’ children crown your love f {The Yankee Woman.) New England woman ! World renowned ! O why hath art not petrified Into thy form, with skill profound, To prove whence comes New England’s pride J Eo ! there ’s -no likeness of our Lord ! Apostles had no portraits made ; For Christ is found in deed and word ; Apostles are in those they aid. ’Tis so the Yankee woman’s seen — In souls and actions of her sons ; In queenly daughters she is queen ; In all her heirs her instinct runs. What morals Yankee mothers gave ; To sons, what letters do they send ; What heavenly daughters, too, they have ; ^ What destinies do they defend ! {They are not Peerless, though.) Yet, other people are their peers, Of other blood than Puritan ! Kind women were with Cavaliers, The mother, sister, wife of man. With forms as fair and health as firm, With will as calm and thought as clear,. With head as wise and heart as warm — Our Country’s Mothers all are dear I “The Father of his Country’’ had A “mother of the coming man,”’ NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS. 7T And on her tomb is simply said ; “Mary, Mother of Washington.’’ “The Savior of his Country,’’ too. Owed his wise excellence to one. Who truth and virtue chiefly knew. And stamped her likeness on her son. Lincoln, Washington, were so. By virtue of their virtuous blood, The sons of mothers always true, Who loved humanity and God ! How every State has still its type ! A sample of ancestral heirs. In forms of beauty, fresh and ripe. And each and all distinctly theirs. Find nerves in the New England face ; See stately forms from Illinois ; The Southern face hath sense and grace Still all the States one stamp employ. {A Sample from Each Section is Given.') I gave my word — as good ’s my bond — I told this man,* by tongue and mouth, That I’d fetch here three samples fond. Of East and West and Sunny South. And now they all — I know them well — Well represent three types in one. Where they were born, where they now dwell. And what home deeds they each have done^ The Sunny South hath set forth one, Sedate and serious, frank and free. Like- Ladies Polk and Washington, With instincts of her ancestry. The Yankee girls have all her grace. Nor less, perhaps, magnolia’s balm ; * The Toast-^master. MARION WASHINGTON. Lady of the Sunny South, iS66. I -74 HASKELL’S DOMESTIC POEMS. While Faith and Hope, in both we trace, That make them kind, thonghtful and calm. And when the Mountain Maid stands up And looks the future in the face. Her cornucopia’s full cup Reveals no less the Nation’s race Of women, loved of every land. The product of a glorious past. That doth a future thus command. Which shineth brighter to the last. This trio seem almost triune ; They sing the same national airs. And follow each familiar tune With similarity of prayers. Their portraits — made to them unknown. And taken by a sleight of hand — Have no pretexts here to atone. Save : We no better could command ! If, therefore, “stolen water ’s sweet,’’ (Prov. ix,i7), (Or it would not be fit to steal). 