My Stolen Rocking-chair

My Rocking-Chair, my Rocking-Chair! I seek in valn to flnd thee w'nere For many a year thy place bas been. In winter's cold I shelter gave thee, From every pang I sought to 6ave thee; But in the warmth of Bummer time My pórtico has been thy home, Where thou might breathe the vital air, And day and nig-ht has found thee there. Laai niffht you soothed my weary breast, Thy neutle motion gave me joy; I tjiidi' good nig-ht and went to rest, And left thee tree l'rom ali annoy. My siumbcr ends; I come to greet thee. ïbou art not there, my HoeMng-Chalrl I stand albast, and cverywhere I seek to flnd my treasure lost; But all in vain, for at my cost In every place thon art not there. A pijferer, with thought malign, Ha8 seized upon thee in the night; Away he ru6hee, treasure mine. And hides thee from my wildered 6ight. In this veranda, day by day. Resting upon thy seat of cane, Supported by thy arms of oak, And sauntering many an hour away, Thy gentle motion eoothed my brain. Sometimes I dozed; the world's sad croak Was silenced then. Sometimeii awake I dreamed, and visions fair and bright Flitted before my raTished sight. From the dim rol] of ancient sagee, And lords and knights and flaunting pages, And ladies fair, and kings wbo bore The terror-dealing sword of power, - ?rom tbat brig-ht throng of modern men Whose hand has held the magie pen That cbarms the world,- the poet band Whose etrains have thrillcd the listeniog land ; The men who fought in freedom's eauee, The men whose wisdom framed the laws; Froni all who think, from all who toil, From all whose acts have been a foil Toevil deeds;- From all of these, hy day and night Ever a throng, in visión bright Came, some sweet meesages to bear To me and thee, my Rocking-Chair. Thou Pilferer! thou takedst not The flaming gem or yellow gold; Thv furtive band has taken what By me was never to be snld. It was the magie throne where I, A king uncrowned, in royal state And robee of fancied majesty, Held power eupreme, and in my dreams Heceived the homage of the great, And from their lips in copious draught Lessonp of richest wisdom quaffed. Think not these visions will be thine. Or treasures of such thoughts divine, Or homage sucb be paid to thee. Thank God, tkou canst not eteal from me These treasures locked in memory. Thanks warmer yet! thy griefs to be Thou hast no power to give to me. In thy new seat, joy as you will. And laugh and rock in heartiest glee, From one snd voice, though low and still, Thy saddened ear will ne'er be f ree; However long you vigil keep, Conscience you cannot rock to sleep. Beneath my ebeetnut tree and elms You came to steal my Kockiug-Chair. The winds were whispering through their boughs: " Man of the stcalthy tread, Take care! " While twinkling stars from far-off realms Glanced warnings at thy step; and now They telephoned thee loud and clear: " Man wille the ntbber's Jieart, Beware I " Tbou didst not hear- thou uouldst not hear. Farewell, my treasure; and farewell The man who holds the stolen gem. If e'er I read the last bequest Thy friends bestow, without a prayer, 'Twillbe: Hebe lies, In fitful tekror rocked and bad ünrest, The man who stole the Bocking-Chair. June 18, 1891.