The Poets and Poetry of Cecil County, Maryland Part 25

Should glory stimulate, And daring deeds propose, That only fame I'd emulate, To triumph in the cross.

Or should my yielding powers Acknowledge pleasure's sway, I'd think of sacred streams and bowers, And sweets that ne'er decay.

Should soaring science me Her votary avow, My only excellence should be Christ crucified to know.

Should wealth my mind impress, With the desire of more, In Christ the fullness I possess, Of Heaven's exhaustless store.

With all that nature craves, Fully from thence supplied, No aching want my bosom heaves No wish unsatisfied.

REJOICING IN HOPE.

Tost on the troubled sea of life, On every side a.s.sailed, Involved in pa.s.sion's stormy strife, In irksome suff'rance held.

The faithful word of promise cheers And bears my spirits up, Dispels my dark desponding fears And stablishes my hope.

Hope that shall every toil survive, That smoothes the rugged path, That mitigates the ills of life, And soothes the hour of death.

And when the storms of life are o'er, And all our conflicts cease, When landed on the heavenly sh.o.r.e To enjoy eternal peace.

Hope at the last, her charge resigned, Securely we dismiss, And an abundant entrance find, To the abodes of bliss.

Till then our progress she attends To solace and relieve: And waits till every conflict ends To take her final leave.

Possessed of all we hoped below, Our utmost wish attained, Our happiness complete, we know Our full perfection gained.

Thus may I cheerfully endure, Till thus my warfare past;-- Suffice for me the promise sure, I shall be crowned at last.

HYMN.

There remaineth therefore a rest to the people of G.o.d.

--Hebrews 4:9.

Oh how I languish to possess, A safe and permanent abode!

To rest in unmolested peace, And cast my care on thee, my G.o.d.

In thee I joy, in thee I rest, Though all inferior comforts fail; No hopeless anguish heaves my breast, And no tormenting fears a.s.sail.

To thee with confidence I look, And calmly wait thy promised aid; I rest securely on that Rock, On which Almighty help is laid.

Oh may I on His firmness stand, The ground of my immortal hope; Or n.o.bly rise, at his command, To Pisgah's heaven-aspiring top.

That I may with ecstatic view, My future heritage descry, Where pleasures spring forever new, And perfect love shall never die.

REMORSE.

What racking fear, what painful grief Ensue a pleasant sin!

In vain the world proffers relief For maladies within.

Its blandishments and smooth deceit No real succor bring; Its remedies but irritate And pleasure leaves a sting.

Confusion, shame, and slavish fear O'erwhelm a guilty mind; A burden more than I can bear, My sins upon me bind.

Oh had I weighed the matter well Ere my consent was given!

Avoided then the gates of h.e.l.l And urged my way to heaven!

Lord, give me strength now to resume My former confidence; Remove my terrors, bid me come With hopeful penitence.

In mercy hear my humble cry, Redeem my soul from sin, My guilty conscience pacify And speak the peace serene.

MORNING.

But now the dawn of day appears, And now the dappled East declares Ambrosial morn again arrived, And nature's slumbering powers revived, And while they into action spring The infant breeze with odorous wing, Perfumes of sweetest scent exhales, And the enlivened sense regales, With sweets exempt from all alloy Which neither irritate nor cloy.

Nor less the calmly gladdened sight Enjoys the milder forms of light, Reflected soft in twinkling beams, From numberless translucent gems.

But now Aurora dries her tears, And with a gayer mien appears, With cheerful aspect smiles serene, And ushers in the splendid scene Of golden day: while feeble night Precipitates his dreary flight Dispelled by the all cheering sway Of the resplendent G.o.d of day, Who, mounted in his royal car, And all arrayed in golden glare With arduous career drives on Ascending his meridian throne: From thence a Sovereign of the day, His full-grown glories to display.

EDWIN EVANS EWING.

Edwin Evans Ewing, son of Patrick Ewing and brother of William Pinkney Ewing, was born on his father's farm on the Octoraro creek, not far from Rowlandville, in this county, on the 9th of January, 1824. His family is of Scotch-Irish extraction, and settled on the Octoraro more than a century ago. The family has long been distinguished for the intellectuality and literary ability of its members, among whom were the Rev. John Ewing, one of the most eminent scientists and Presbyterian divines of his time, and his daughter Sarah, who became the wife of John Hall, and whose biography is published in this volume.

The subject of this sketch spent his youth and early manhood, on his father's farm. Recently when asked for a sketch of his life Mr. Ewing replied: "I didn't have any life. I just growed like Topsy. I didn't have any educating. I just picked it up; and as for poetry, I never wrote any, only rhyme." Notwithstanding this a.s.sertion, Mr. Ewing being unable to resist the prompting of the "divinity which stirred within him," when quite young, began to write poetry. There seems to be a subtle influence pervading the romantic Octoraro hills, which if not the direct cause of poetic inspiration seems to encourage its growth, Mr.

Ewing being one of five poets who claim that region as their birthplace, or who have profited by a residence therein.

When quite young Mr. Ewing wrote poetry which was published in the local journals of Cecil and Lancaster counties, and subsequently contributed poetry to the Philadelphia _Dollar Newspaper_, being a contemporary contributor to that journal with his brother, William P. Ewing, and the late David Scott (of James.)

In 1856 Mr. Ewing made a trip to the Southwest, traveling extensively on horseback in Texas. He gave an account of his travels and a description of the country through which he pa.s.sed in a series of letters published in the _Cecil Whig_, which were much admired.

In 1861, Mr. Ewing became the proprietor and editor of the _Cecil Whig_, which was the Union organ of the county. Being a man of decided convictions, and unflinching courage, he never lost an opportunity to advocate the cause of the Union, to which he adhered with great devotion, through evil and through good report.

In 1876 he disposed of the _Whig_ and the next year bought an interest in the _Kansas Farmer_ and the _Juvenile Magazine_, published in Topeka, Kansas. He subsequently became connected with the _Daily Capital_, and eventually became sole proprietor of the _Kansas Farmer_. The climate of Kansas not agreeing with him, he removed to Highlands, Macon county, N.C., where in 1882 he established the _Blue Ridge Enterprise_ which he soon afterwards disposed of, and in 1885 became the proprietor of the _Midland Journal_, published in the village of Rising Sun, in this county.

Mr. Ewing is a brilliant and forcible writer. Like many others Mr. Ewing kept none of his poems except one which is too lengthy to be given a place in this volume. In consequence of this the compiler has only been able to obtain the following specimens of his poetry after great labor and trouble.

THE CHERUBIM--A VISION.

'Twas at that season, when the gloom Of cheerless Winter's pa.s.s'd away, And flowers spring up, with sweet perfume, To scent the breeze and cheer our way, Where'er we saunter--o'er the hill, Or through the valley--warm and still, Or broken only by the sound Of tinkling rills, which softly flow, And busy bees, that hum around The flowers which on their borders grow, That I, from life's turmoil had strayed To spend an hour in solitude; And where a sparkling fountain played, I laid me down, in pensive mood, To ponder o'er the fleeting day Of youth, that hies so fast away In golden dreams which quickly fly, Like tints that deck a Summer sky.