Freeman Edwin Miller

Freeman Edwin Miller was an American poet, journalist, and teacher, best known for his work in Oklahoma. Born on November 9, 1864, in New Jersey, Miller moved to Oklahoma in 1894, where he became a prominent figure in the literary and educational communities. He is remembered for his contributions to early Oklahoma literature, as well as his work in promoting education and journalism in the region. He passed away on July 14, 1951.

November 9, 1864

July 14, 1951

English

Page 1 of 4

A Christmas Carol.

            The brazen bells of laughing lands
                In swelling echoes wildly ring,
            And over seas and hoary strands
                This Christmas carol sing.


    "Awaken, O, heart of the race,
        To bountiful riches from Eden above,
    Till roses of beauty and lilies of grace
        Shall sweeten the languishing bosom with love;
    Till virulent sorrow and venomous hate
        Their poisonous curses of misery cease,
    And rapturous fortune, felicitous fate,
        Have rule in the musical meadows of peace.

    "The voices of morning to men,
        In passionate whispers of bounteous glee,
    Are pulsing the gladness of Christmas again
        O'er plains of the prairie and sounds of the sea;
    Rejoice a...

Freeman Edwin Miller

A Sonnet.

    We gentler grow by sorrow; not the breast
        That never crouches in the nights of tears,
        That never bends beneath the loads of years,
    Has sympathies that are the kindliest.
    There is a strength in agony that best
        Can link the careless heart with human fears,
        And teach it that fond kindness which endears
    The millions that with sadness are oppressed.

    Grief softens while it saddens; pleasure smites
        The timid soul with harshness, till it knows
        Small earnest of the great world's grievous woes
    And little of its struggles; sorrow plights
    Her troth with sorrow, and in tears unites
        Man unto man and hatred overthrows.

Freeman Edwin Miller

At Eventide.

    At eventide, when glories lie
    In crimson curtains hung on high,
        And all the breast of heaven glows
        With mingled wreaths of flowers and snows,
    The dearest dreams of life draw nigh.

    The pleasures in their soft robes fly
    With angel wings adown the sky,
        And rapture lulls to sweet repose,
        At eventide.

    Ah, well-a-day! Life's weary cry,
    And all its curse and care shall die,
        When Age on downy couches throws
        His weary limbs and only knows
    The tender dreams of bye-and-bye,
        At eventide!

Freeman Edwin Miller

At Perry, September 16, 1893.

    Crowds! Crowds! Crowds!
        Suddenly here as if come from the clouds
    That faded away as they came;
        Mad acres of people aflame
    With thirst for a morsel of land;
        Wild hunters of fortune, whose game
    Is ever escaping the hand;
        Vast, countless, uncountable throngs
    With restless, unrestable feet,
        That hurry the ways, full of agonized wrongs,
    For the conquest of happiness sweet;
        Wild seas of ambition whose waves of desire
    On their obstacles mighty continually beat,
        Where neither the shore nor the ocean is fixed;
        Like thunderous songs of a choir,
    Whose murmurs in music repeat;
        And confusion and chaos are terribly mingled and mixed.

        Dust! Dust! Dust!

Freeman Edwin Miller

At The Mill.

    The water-wheel goes 'round and 'round
    With heavy sighs of mournful sound,
    While dismal cries and weary moans
    Unite with sad and tearful groans,
    And weeping waves of water throw
        Afar the echoes of their sadness,
    And cadences of plaintive woe
        Dispel each little note of gladness.

    My daily life goes 'round and 'round,
    And rest for me is never found;
    The sobbing dirges of distress
    Are more than songs of happiness;
    The shadows of despairing doom
        Condemn to-day and curse to-morrow,
    And muffled terrors fill the gloom
        Which offers anguish to my sorrow.

    But hope, O, heart, for future weal!
    The waters rest beyond the wheel;
    So life may sing when toil is done...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Away, Away, From The Sultry Ways.

    Away, away, from the sultry ways
        Where the pleasures fall and fade,
    To the bannered corn and the meadowed bloom
        And the forest's cooling shade!

    Afar, afar, from the rooms of care
        With the toils of life distressed,
    To the grassy hills and the fragrant slopes
        And the quiet vales of rest!

    Away from the weary, dusty town,
        Where the sorrows dim the days,
    To the sleeping lake and the silent stream
        And the wildwood's tangled ways!

    To margins wide of the woodland pools,
        Where the wild birds troll their songs,
    Where the lilies laugh and the willows wave,
        And the pleasures dance in throngs!

    The dark-eyed nymphs and the fairy elves
        In t...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Christmas Time.

    How sweet the brazen belfries chime
        Across the hills and through the dales,
        And o'er the breasts of meadowed vales,
    Beneath the smiles of Christmas time!
    Rough sorrow's thorny fingers grow
        As soft and waxen as a child's,
        And balmy pleasures o'er the wilds
    Chant music to the drifting snow.

    Ah, scattered locks that fringe my face,
        With wintry wisps of white and gray!
        Ah, sad, dimmed eyes that look away
    To artless childhood's tender grace!
    To-night those years with joys sublime
        Steal over me and fill my soul
        With lullabies of bliss that roll
    The golden glees of Christmas time.

    Again I live in wondrous days,
        When baby hands with chubby glee<...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Compensation.

    The softest beams of the stars are born in the farthest skies,
    And fairest rays of the sun where evening shadows rise;
    The sweetest songs of the bird are sung in the darkest days,
    And rarest blooms of the spring are found in the wildest ways.

    The brightest blush of the rose is blown as the petals fade.
    The greenest grass of the earth is grown in the hidden glade;
    The fondest rhyme of the rill is heard in the secret vale,
    And lightest lays of the breeze are borne from the dying gale.

    The highest hopes of the heart in saddest of sorrows grow,
    The purest pleasures of joy arise in the wane of woe;
    The gladdest smiles of the lips are seen in the hours of pain,
    And proudest days of the free are spent by the broken chain.

Freeman Edwin Miller

Dear Songs Of My Country!

    Dear songs of my country! How sweetly thy measures
        Come stealthily stealing o'er mountain and wave,
    To sweeten the riches of liberty's treasures
        And thrill with their numbers the hearts of the brave!
    To move in wild glory the souls of a nation,
        Till men are together so happily hurled,
    That millions are bound in fraternal relation
        And brotherhoods rule in the ranks of the world.

    Such praises ye offer our heroes and sages,
        So grand is the greatness that lives in thy strains,
    That small is the fame of the far away ages,
        So sunken in tyranny, fettered in chains.
    For freedom ye strive and ye struggle for glory,
        And Liberty--Liberty still is your theme--
    And glad are your lips with t...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Despondency.

    O, gloomy world that rolls in weary space,
        And moans wild music to the broken spheres,
        Whose rivers wander into seas of tears,
    Despair has bound thee in a close embrace;
        A birth, a life, a death; man is no more!

    Death grows beside existence, and with time
        Is comrade of its changes; cycles roll
        Their heavy circles through the human soul,
    And pour their dirges into mournful rhyme;
        A birth, a life, a death; man is no more!

    He gropes in shadows for a happy beam
        That shall delight his bosom; into mist
        Dissolves the substance that ambition kissed,
    While greatness grows the garland of a dream;
        A birth, a life, a death; man is no more!

    Endeavor struggles to...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Discontent.

    The sun comes up in the east
        And the sun goes down in the west,
    And man to me is a heartless beast
        And the world has only a savage breast.

    How thoughts rush over my soul
        As the waves walk over the sea!
    Their forms flee soon and the sorrows roll
        In the deep distress that is over me.

    How hopes arise in my heart,
        As the roses bloom over the plain!
    But time is tearing their sweets apart
        And they die in darkness and awful pain.

    Ambitions burn in my breast,
        As the fires in a city rage;
    But damp creeps over their fervid zest
        And they sink away into ashen age.

    If there was pleasure for pain
        I could well be happy awhile,
    And,...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Envoy

    Oh, to be able to capture and bring
        And bind in the bonds of control,
    Some of the carols that warble and sing
        Down in the depths of my soul.

Freeman Edwin Miller

Estranged.

    Though far apart, my darling, side by side
        We wander still and our fond yearnings meet,
        As when our hearts with highest raptures beat
    Before our footsteps trod the paths of pride;
    Our close companionship hath never died;
        True love and trust are always fair and sweet,
    And time from life's best hopes can never hide
        A kindred soul that made its own complete!
    So thou, dear one, shall come once more to me,
        The sweeter grown for all thy years of pain;
    My longing arms shall open wide for thee,
        And thou shalt nestle on my breast again;
    Then perfect love shall richly crown the years,
    And both be better for our griefs and tears.

Freeman Edwin Miller

Ex Anima.

    The gloomy hours of silence wake
        Remembrance and her train,
    And phantoms through the fancies chase
        The mem'ries that remain;
    And hidden in the dark embrace
        Of days that now are gone,
    I see a form, a fairy form,
        And fancy hurries on!

    I see the old familiar smile,
        I hear the tender tone,
    I greet the softness of the glance
        That cheered me when alone;
    The ruby chains of rich romance
        That bound our bosoms o'er,
    I still can know, I still can feel,
        As they were felt before.

    I name the vows, the fresh young vows,
        That we together said;
    What matters it? She can not know;
        She slumbers with the dead!
    Again the fields ...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Giving And Forgiving.

    'Tis not by selfish miser's greed
        The great rewards of love are given;
    'Tis not the cynic's haughty creed
        Which gladly makes this world a heaven;
    But tender word and loving deed
        Increase the angel joys of living,
    And mortals gain life's grandest meed
        By acts of giving and forgiving.

    Let warriors bold with armies fight
        Their awful battles brave and gory,
    To reap the harvest of their might
        And fill a gaping world with glory!
    The humble heroes, out of sight,
        Where hidden tears and woes are striving,
    Win victories for truth and right
        By deeds of giving and forgiving.

    Let mighty kings of loyal lands
        Despise the faithful sons of duty,
   ...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Good-Night.

    Good night, my little love, good-night!
            May angels keep
    With fondest watch thy slumbers, till the light
            Shall break thy sleep,
    And morning with its wonders bright
    Shall banish all thy cares with might.

    Within this quickened life of mine,
            I bear away
    The loving looks and tender words of thine,
            Which from this day
    Within my soul shall ever shine
    And make me better, more divine.

    With love and trust and truth, my heart
            Beats all for thee;
    And though our lives may wander far apart,
            Till death's decree
    Shall pierce my hopes with deadly dart,
    Thou still my star of guidance art.

    Good-night, dear one! As gladdest songs,...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Greatness Lives Apart.

    Great natures live apart; the mountain gray
        May call no comrade to his lonely side;
    The giant ocean, wrapped in storm and spray,
        Has no companion for her endless tide;
        The forest monarch, where his parents died,
    Can find no brother in his lofty sway,
        And mighty rivers chafe their margins wide
    Where infant rills and childish fountains play.

    So heroes live; no raptured blossoms start
        Where rugged heights of human glory end;
        No tender songs of loving beauty blend
    Their chorus in the great man's peerless heart;
    Fate fills their souls with magnitude, and art
        Supplies their lives with no congenial friend.

Freeman Edwin Miller

Had We Not Met.

    Had we not met, the brooding woe
    And all the griefs that greater grow,
        Might not have been, and happy-wise
        Our lives have laughed with lullabies
    And quaffed such joys as few may know.

    Our days beneath embittered skies
    Where anguish moans and sorrow cries,
        Might not have wept and wandered so,
        Had we not met!

    But ah, my darling! All we prize,--
    Love and sweet trust that never dies,
        Wild yearnings that with constant flow
        From kindred heart to bosom go,--
    Would never in our souls had rise,
        Had we not met!

Freeman Edwin Miller

Page 1 of 4