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Across the Sea and Other Poems. by Thomas S. Chard

Produced by The University of Michigan's Making of America online book collection (http://www.hti.umich.edu/m/moa/).

ACROSS THE SEA

And Other Poems.

By

Thomas S. Chard.

Now just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them, and behold the City shone like the sun; the streets also were paved with gold, and in them walked many men, with crowns on their heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises withal. * * * And after that they shut up the gates; which, when I had seen, I wished myself among them.

--Pilgrim's Progress.

Chicago:

Jansen, McClurg & Company.

1875.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by

JANSEN, McCLURG & CO.,

In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

PREFACE.

The poem whose name gives title to this little volume, was published in outline in the winter of 1869, and now appears for the first time as completed. _The sea,_ as a picture of life, has been celebrated by the poetic thought of all ages, and the author will therefore hardly hope to offer much that is new in the following verses. His only excuse for so worn a theme is, that the world still loves the picture, and that each generation can, at best, but reset the old jewels of the past.

CONTENTS.

Across the Sea,

The Seven Sleepers,

A Legend of St. John,

The Blessed Vale.

ACROSS THE SEA.

Inscribed to

David Swing.

ACROSS THE SEA.

I.--CHILDHOOD.

Ah! who can speak that country whence I fled? None but a lover may its beauty know, None but a poet can its rapture sing; And e'en his muse, upborne on Fancy's wing, Will grieve o'er beauties still unnoticed, O'er raptures language is too poor to show.

Fore'er remains the land where children dwell, Earth's fairest mem'ry and its Palestine; Tho' years have passed since on my forehead there Were graven lines of weariness and care, Still on the silver string of memory oft I tell The golden beads of joy that once were mine.

Dear distant Land of Childhood! God doth know That I have longed to dwell in thee again, As when by care unvexed, by doubt undriven, With eyes as blue, and heart as pure, as Heaven. Sweet are the days of childhood, glad the flow Of unhurt joyous life in every vein.


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