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JOHN JAMES PIATT.

READING THE MILESTONE.

I STOPPED to read the milestone here,
A laggard school-boy, long ago;
I came not far- my home was near-
But ah, how far I longed to go!
Behold a number and a name,

A finger, westward, cut in stone:
The vision of a city came,

Across the dust and distance shown.

Around me lay the farms asleep

In hazes of autumnal air,
And sounds that quiet loves to keep
Were heard, and heard not, every-
where.

I read the milestone, day by day:
I yearned to cross the barren bound,
To know the golden Far-away,
To walk the new Enchanted
Ground!

TWO PATRONS.

"WHAT shall I sing?" I sighed,
and said,
"That men shall know me when
my name

Is lost with kindred lips, and dead
Are laurels of familiar fame ?"

Below, a violet in the dew
Breathed through the dark
vague perfume;

Above, a star in quiet blue

66

Their moving presence oftentimes we know,

It thrills us everywhere. Sometimes we see them; lo! at night, Our eyes were shut, but opened

seem:

The darkness breathed a breath of wondrous light,

And then it was a dream!

THE LOVE-LETTER.

I GREET thee, loving letter-
Unopened, kiss thee free,
And dream her lips within thee
Give back the kiss to me!

The fragrant little rose-leaf,

She sends by thee, is come:
Ah, in her heart was blooming
The rose she stole it from!

THE GOLDEN HAND.

Lo, from the city's heat and dust
A golden hand forever thrust,
Uplifting from a spire on high
A shining finger in the sky!

I see it when the morning brings
Fresh tides of life to living things,
its And the great world awakes: behold,
That lifted hand in morning gold!

I see it when the noontide beats

Touched with a gracious ray the Pulses of fire in busy streets;

gloom.

'Sing, friend, of me," the violet sighed,

"That I may haunt your grave with love;" "Sing, friend, of me," the star replied,

"That I may light the dark above."

THE SIGHT OF ANGELS.

THE angels come, the angels go,
Through open doors of purer air;

The dust flies in the flaming air:
Above, that quiet hand is there.

To the dark earth with hovering
I see it when the twilight clings
wings:

Flashing with the last fluttering ray,
That golden hand remembers day.
The midnight comes- the holy hour:
The city like a giant flower
Sleeps full of dew: that hand, in light
Of moon and stars, how weirdly

bright!

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Good-night, then, lost darlings of It is nothing to see one's own tears

mine

I never shall see you again: Ah, never in shadow nor shine; Ah, never in dew nor in rain!

A DREAM'S AWAKENING.

SHUT in a close and dreary sleep, Lonely and frightened and oppressed

I felt a dreadful serpent creep, Writhing and crushing o'er my breast.

I woke and knew my child's sweet arm,

As soft and pure as flakes of snow, Beneath my dream's dark, hateful charm,

Had been the thing that tortured so.

And in the morning's dew and light I seemed to hear an angel say, 66 The Pain that stings in Time's low night

May prove God's Love in higher day."

THAT NEW WORLD.

How gracious we are to grant to the dead

Those wide, vague lands in the foreign sky, Reserving this world for ourselves instead

For we must live, though others must die!

And what is this world that we keep, I pray?

True, it has glimpses of dews and flowers;

Then Youth and Love are here and away, [ours.

Like mated birds-but nothing is

Ak, nothing indeed, but we cling to it all.

fall;

Yet surely the breath of our life is sweet.

Yes, the breath of our life is so sweet, I fear

We were loath to give it for all we know

Of that charmèd country we hold so dear,

Far into whose beauty the breathless go.

Yet certain we are, when we see them fade

Out of the pleasant light of the sun,

Of the sands of gold in the palmleaf's shade,

And the strange high jewels all these have won.

You dare not doubt it, O soul of mine!

And yet if these empty eyes could

see

One, only one, from that voyage divine,

With something, anything sure for me!

Ah, blow me the scent of one lily, to tell

That it grew outside of this world

at most;

Ah, show me a plume to touch, or a shell

That whispers of some unearthly coast!

MAKING PEACE.

AFTER this feud of yours and mine
The sun will shine;

After we both forget, forget,
The sun will set.

I

It is nothing to hear one's own I heart beat,

pray you think how warm and

sweet

The heart can beat;

pray you think how soon the rose From grave-dust grows.

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