Poems by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper Part 6

His ear was growing dull in death When the angry storm he heard,

DEATH OF THE OLD SEA KING. 39

The sluggish blood in the old man's veins With sudden vigor stirred.

"I hear them call," cried the dying man, His eyes grew full of light; "Now bring me here my warrior robes, My sword and armor bright.

"In the tempest's lull I heard a voice, I knew 'twas Odin's call.

The Valkyrs are gathering round my bed To lead me unto his hall.

"Bear me unto my n.o.blest s.h.i.+p, Light up a funeral pyre; I'll walk to the palace of the braves Through a path of flame and fire."

Oh! wild and bright was the stormy light That flashed from the old man's eye, As they bore him from the couch of death To his battle-s.h.i.+p to die,

And lit with many a mournful torch The sea-king's dying bed, And like a banner fair and bright The flames around him spread.

40 SAVE THE BOYS.

But they heard no cry of anguish Break through that fiery wall, With rigid brow and silent lips He was seeking Odin's hall.

Through a path of fearful splendor, While strong men held their breath, The brave old man went boldly forth And calmly talked with death.

SAVE THE BOYS.

Like Dives in the deeps of h.e.l.l I cannot break this fearful spell, Nor quench the fires I've madly nursed, Nor cool this dreadful raging thirst.

Take back your pledge--ye come too late!

Ye cannot save me from my fate, Nor bring me back departed joys; But ye can try to save the boys.

Ye bid me break my fiery chain, Arise and be a man again,

SAVE THE BOYS. 41

When every street with snares is spread, And nets of sin where'er I tread.

No; I must reap as I did sow.

The seeds of sin bring crops of woe; But with my latest breath I'll crave That ye will try the boys to save.

These bloodshot eyes were once so bright; This sin-crushed heart was glad and light; But by the wine-cup's ruddy glow I traced a path to shame and woe.

A captive to my galling chain, I've tried to rise, but tried in vain-- The cup allures and then destroys.

Oh! from its thraldom save the boys.

Take from your streets those traps of h.e.l.l Into whose gilded snares I fell.

Oh! freemen, from these foul decoys Arise, and vote to save the boys.

Oh, ye who license men to trade In draughts that charm and then degrade, Before ye hear the cry, Too late, Oh, save the boys from my sad fate.

42 NOTHING AND SOMETHING.

NOTHING AND SOMETHING.

It is nothing to me, the beauty said, With a careless toss of her pretty head; The man is weak if he can't refrain From the cup you say is fraught with pain.

It was something to her in after years, When her eyes were drenched with burning tears, And she watched in lonely grief and dread, And startled to hear a staggering tread.

It is nothing to me, the mother said; I have no fear that my boy will tread In the downward path of sin and shame, And crush my heart and darken his name.

It was something to her when that only son From the path of right was early won, And madly cast in the flowing bowl A ruined body and sin-wrecked soul.

It is nothing to me, the young man cried: In his eye was a flash of scorn and pride; I heed not the dreadful things ye tell: I can rule myself I know full well.

NOTHING AND SOMETHING. 43

It was something to him when in prison he lay The victim of drink, life ebbing away; And thought of his wretched child and wife, And the mournful wreck of his wasted life.

It is nothing to me, the merchant said, As over his ledger he bent his head; I'm busy to-day with tare and tret, And I have no time to fume and fret.

It was something to him when over the wire A message came from a funeral pyre-- A drunken conductor had wrecked a train, And his wife and child were among the slain.

It is nothing to me, the voter said, The party's loss is my greatest dread; Then gave his vote for the liquor trade, Though hearts were crushed and drunkards made.

It was something to him in after life, When his daughter became a drunkard's wife And her hungry children cried for bread, And trembled to hear their father's tread.

Is it nothing for us to idly sleep While the cohorts of death their vigils keep?

To gather the young and thoughtless in, And grind in our midst a grist of sin?

44 VASHTI.

It is something, yes, all, for us to stand Clasping by faith our Saviour's hand; To learn to labor, live and fight On the side of G.o.d and changeless light.

VASHTI.

She leaned her head upon her hand And heard the King's decree-- "My lords are feasting in my halls; Bid Vashti come to me.

"I've shown the treasures of my house, My costly jewels rare, But with the glory of her eyes No rubies can compare.

"Adorn'd and crown'd I'd have her come, With all her queenly grace, And, 'mid my lords and mighty men, Unveil her lovely face.

"Each gem that sparkles in my crown, Or glitters on my throne,

VASHTI. 45

Grows poor and pale when she appears, My beautiful, my own!"