Chapter I: Front Matter

THE JUVENILE

FORGET-ME-NOT.

JUVENILE FORGET-ME-NOT.

NEW YORK,
PUBLISHED BY LEAVITT & ALLEN.

THE JUVENILE
FORGET-ME-NOT.
A
=Christmas and New Year’s=
PRESENT.

NEW YORK:
LEAVITT AND ALLEN.

=Illustrations.=

THE ROBIN, FRONTISPIECE.
ENGRAVED TITLE, BEFORE TITLE.
WOULD-BE-GENTEEL LADY, 18
MY DOG, 75
MARY WALLACE, 102
ON THE HUDSON, 193

CONTENTS.

PAGE.
The Mother’s Jewel. By the Author of “The Brothers” 5
Sweet Stream 10
Stanzas. By Miss E. M. ALLISON 12
The Would-be-Genteel Lady. By Mrs. CHARLES SEDGWICK 15
At Home. By Mrs. ANNA BACHE 62
To the Whip-poor-will 73
The Child’s best Friend 75
Napoleon and the Iron Crown. By GRENVILLE MELLEN 76
The Barlow Knife. By ROBERT JONATHAN 81
Gertrude. By Miss A. D. WOODBRIDGE 97
Sodus Bay 99
Mary Wallace: a Juvenile story 102
The Genoese Emigrant. By Miss E. M. ALLISON 158
Sonnet: on a Sleeping Infant 168
Child of my Heart 169
May Morning 170
My First Born: the hour of her birth 172
Condy O’Neal 173
On the Hudson. By Miss E. M. ALLISON 193
Charades 206
The English Flower 207
The Young Mother 209
The Isle of Rest 215
The Italian Lover 218
The Fate of the Hornet 228
A Vision 232
“I’ll think of thee, Love” 234
Cottage Life 236
The Guardian Watcher 238
Interrogatories 239
Gnadenhutten 241

THE MOTHER’S JEWEL.

BY THE AUTHOR OF “THE BROTHERS.”

“These are my gems,”[1] the Roman mother cried,
Her bright lip wreathed in smiles of sunny pride,
“These are my gems,” as o’er each infant head
Superbly fond her high-born hands she spread;
This, with dark eyes, and hyacinthine flow
Of raven tresses down a neck of snow—
That, golden-haired, with orbs whose azurn hue
Had dimmed the Indian sapphire’s deathless blue.
“These are my gems! bring ye the rarest stone,
“That ever flashed from Eastern tyrants’ throne!
“Bring amber, such as those[2] sad sisters gave,
“Vain bribes to still the rash relentless wave!
“Bring diamonds, such as that[3] false matron wore,
“Bought by their sheen to break the faith she swore,
“Who lured to death foredoomed her prophet lord,
“To death more certain than the Theban sword,—
“Bring gauds, like those which caught Tarpeia’s[4] eye,
“Fated beneath her treason’s price to die!—
“And I will match them—yea! their worth outvie
“With that, nor art can frame, nor treasure buy,
“Nor force subdue, nor dungeon walls control—
“Each precious gem—a freeborn Roman soul!
“Know ye not, how—when quaked the solid earth,
“And shook the seven hills, as at Titan’s birth,—
“When the proud forum yawned—a gulf so wide
“Rome’s navy in its space secure might ride—
“When pale-eyed prophets did the fate declare,
“That dread abyss should yawn for ever there,
“Till Rome’s best jewel, darkly tombed within,
“The gods should soothe, and expiate the sin!—
“Know ye not, how their robes of Syrian hue
“To the sad King the trembling matrons threw?
“What flower-crowned captives bled, the abyss to close?
“What Syrian perfumes from the brink arose?
“What sculptured vases of barbaric gold,
“What trophied treasures, through its void were rolled?
“What sunbright gems—onyx and agate rare,
“And deathless adamant—were scattered there?
“But not in gold, nor gems, nor Tyrian die,
“Trophies, nor slaves, did Rome’s best treasure lie!
“His limbs superb in war’s triumphant guise,
“His soul’s high valor flashing from his eyes,
“His courser chafing, impotently bold,
“Against the hand that well his fire controlled,
“Forth! forth he rode, in native worth sublime,
“Unstained by fetters, ignorant of crime!
“Forth! forth he rode, to play the martyr’s part—
“Rome’s richest jewel—[5]a right Roman heart
“‘So may the gods avert my country’s doom,
“‘I rush in triumph to my living tomb!
“‘Rome hath no jewel worthier earth’s embrace,
“‘Than one free warrior of her fearless race!—
“‘Fearless I come and free!—Accept the gift,
“‘Dark Hades!’—leaped the youth—and closed the rift—
“And rolled the cloudless thunder—Jove’s assent
“That Rome’s best jewel to the abyss was sent!
“These are my gems! Each for his country’s weal
“Devote to raging fire, or rending steel—
“So long to live—so soon to die—as she—
“She only!—shall determine and decree!—
“Blest that I am, to call such jewels mine—
“All else to fate contented I resign;
“Contented—if they mount the curule chair,
“Its best adornment—I shall view them there!
“Contented—if they fill a timeless grave—
“Their wounds—their wounds of honor—I shall lave!
“Secure in each event, Cornelia’s race
“Shall live with glory—die without disgrace!
“Secure, that neither—even in hopeless strife—
“Shall turn upon his heel to save his life!
“Secure, that neither—heaven itself to buy—
“A foe shall flatter, or a friend deny!
“These are my gems!—Give ye your country such—
“So shall ye put your vauntings to the touch—
“Or, yielding me the palm, your boast disown—
“Your diamonds may not match what I have shown!”

SWEET STREAM.

I.

Sweet stream, that from the thickets free,
Comest dancing in thy mountain glee—
The thirsty traveller’s smiling friend—
To my reproachful plaint attend.

II.

The time’s long past, since here I laid
My limbs beneath the green-tree’s shade;
Yet grateful on thy waves I look,
Nor e’er forget my favorite brook.

III.

I am changed, sweet stream, and sadly changed,
Since mid these verdant fields I ranged.
I’ve proved the world, and learned how few
Of Hope’s beguiling dreams were true.

IV.

And now I fain to thee would fly
For sympathy which men deny—
Yet heed’st thou not my spirit’s pain!
Even here my weary search is vain.

V.

Why nourish still this turf of green?
These flowers my early joys have seen
Why linger yet soft breezes here,
As when they dried no falling tear?