Qass. Book PRESENTED BY / LYRICS: MARTIN F. TUPPER. % PATJCA DE PLURIBUS, % $Ma ©bitiotr. LONDON : ARTHUR HALL, VIRTUE, & 00. 25, PATERNOSTER ROW. 1855. Gift HUTCHESftN, LONDON : R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL. $wt\tx facta- Again, THUS FAE: tlie world goes whirling on, And each man's life is full of chance and change, "While all withal that seem'd so new and strange Looks like an old familiar soon as done: So must the Soul, that up and down doth range Eestless and energetic, set up straight Its Eunic record ever and anon, Or pile its cairn of pehbles, one by one, To mark the ways that lead to Duty's gate; And I, much musing in mine ivied grange, Thankful for life at such a busy time, And earnest, though much erring every way, Often fling out my way- side heap of rhyme To rest some wearied traveller, as it may. toients. PAGE These Days 1 The Heart's Harvest 6 *Praise and Blame 9 Human Life 10 *Peace and Strife 15 Railway Times 16 Attractions 20 Repulsions 21 Each One of Us 22 ^Success 24 Warmth 25 The Mingled Cup 28 *Eheu! fugaces . . , 32 A Maxim of Peace 33 Patience ; the False 36 Patience; the True 37 Self-restraint 38 VI CONTENTS. PAGE A Word of Wisdom 39 Progress 41 True Nobility 42 Individuality 45 The Sense of Wrong 48 The Sense of Right 50 *A Reflection 52 w^hat we all feel 54 The Gentleman 56 Warning , . . . . 60 The Heart and the Mind 62 The Common Complaint 65 Answered 67 *Fact 69 The Field, the World 71 To a Generous Youth B 72 Time's Honour 74 A Thought in a Thoroughfare 75 Silence 78 The Good and the True 80 Chaos Crystallizing . . . . 83 *A Consolation 86 *A Sigh 88 Good and Evil 91 Strange Attributes 92 The Lost Arctic 93 Truth 96 Duty 98 Moving on 100 Cruelty: as between Man and his Brother .... 103 CONTENTS. Vll PAGE Cruelty: as between Man and his Beast 107 Blucher's "Forwards!" Ill Aspire 114 Providential Hints 117 The Heart's Yotjthfulness 118 Fraternal Egotism 119 Calculated Comfort 120 Paradise Lost 121 Cheerfulness 122 Liberty ..... 124 Courage » 128 Long Ago 130 In a Drought 131 In a Frost.— The 25th of April, 1854 133 Added, in August 135 Tangley Pond 136 Wait 139 Chobham 140 Spithead 141 The Burnt Church 142 For the Madeira Famine-fund 145 Influences 147 ^Impulse 148 A Song for Rifle-Clubs 149 The Soldier Comforted -. 150 *The Gracious Message 152 Woes for the Czar 154 *To Florence Nightingale . 159 This War 160 The Cause 161 Vlll CONTEXTS. PAGE *JUDGED . 162 Hymn for our Day of Prayer, on the Declaration of War 163 Another , 165 Harvest Hymn for 1854 167 Another 169 England Approved 171 *Heart in Office 172 * Waterloo Avenged 175 *The New Order 177 A Reply to Certain 180 The Gone Before 181 A. E. T. . , , 183 Alice-Evelyn 185 W. G. T .190 Blindness , 192 Hear the Church 193 On a Child who died at Birth 194 Winterhalter's Royal Children 196 Genius bound: a Model 197 The Paris Gathering 198 *To the Nation 201 *Purchase 202 *Caste 203 *New Statesmen 204 The Heart's Gallop 205 The Poems with an Asterisk are new to this Edition : and several of the former Edition are omitted. LYRICS. 4 %\m gap. Haste ! the poor old Earth is dying, — Do God service while you can; Haste ! too hurriedly is flying- All this halcyon chance of man; Haste ! for Time shall be no longer, — All Creation's weepings tend In a rapid ever stronger To that cataract, The End! B Lo ! the cycled years revolving Turn to their first goal again, — Every Sphynx-enigma solving, Every riddle reading plain; All things speak to man sublimely With Apocalyptic mouth, Nature's consummation timely Telling out from North to South! Yea, what privilege and gladness Dwell with modern men and things, Vainly waited for in sadness By old prophets and old kings ! Children see what sages doubted, Peasants know what patriarchs guess'd,- And the sword of Truth has routed Every he from East to West. Ancient wrongs are being righted, — Ancient rights lift up the head ; Savage realms and tribes benighted Rise to life as from the dead ; Ignorance is out of season, Wickedness is glad to hide, — Nothing stands but faith and reason, Nothing falls but sin and pride. We, in days so full and fleeting, Spend our lives on eagles' wings, Throng'd by marvels marvels meeting, Flock'd about by wondrous things; Every day the whole world's history Spread out map-like stirs the mind, Every day some ripen'd mystery Stands consummate for mankind I b 2 Nineveh with ghostly message Eises from her mounded graves; Polar Ice has clued the Passage Winding through its hummock'd waves ; Saurian monsters crawl before us, — Storms their whirling laws avow, — All Creation shouts in chorus " Nothing shall be secret now ! " Earth's forgotten wastes and corners, Peopled thick through gold broadcast, Tell the scoffers and the scorners How she is " subdued" at last; God commands; and nothing frees us Till that word we all obey, — Even China bows to Jesus, Even Africa doth pray ! Bavel-skeins of old beginnings Tapestried around the Cross, — And Creation's final winnings Well outbalancing her loss, — All subdued, and all replenished, All things sealing up the sum, Preach, how nearly It is finish'd, Tell how soon the Christ may come ! %\t f mi's f artot. How little we know of each other ! How lightly and loosely are known ! How seldom is brother with brother The same as he is when alone ! Though relatives round a man gather, Though cordial he seem with his friend, Not even the child and its father As spirit with spirit can blend. The depths of a man are not sounded, The heights of his thoughts are not seen. The breadth of his feelings unbounded Is veil'd by Society's screen; We none of us heed what a greatness Is hidden away in the Heart That, mask'd in a well-bred sedateness, Is playing its company part. O Soul ! that in solitude yearnest For tenderer knowledge of friends, The intimate, honest, and earnest, Untainted by Self and its ends, — Alas ! for the lies of romances, And stolid reality's truth; Alas ! for the generous fancies That gladden'd a man in his youth ! Not here, where in spirit thou starrest, Athirst for the flagons of love, Not here — is the happy heart-harvest That gladdens the blessed above; In heavenly meads we may reap it, — But now the heart's garden is found With scarcely one flower to keep it Mapp'd out from the wilderness round ! Those "spirits made perfect" in glory! I long then companion to be, — That Love's ever-musical story Be sung by those reapers — and me ; That Heart may discover its treasures Unfearing, to dear ones above, And all the full harvest of pleasures Be reap'd by the Spirit of Love ! frame mt& §Iame. If thou art praised, be sure that envious spite "Will dodge thee sullenly; will never shrink Prom blotting thy fair fame with slander's ink; And, where it can, right cruelly will smite: If thou art praised, thou standest on the brink Of peril, and art near to be cast down Either through vain conceits, or brainless fright Of some malignant critic's sneer or frown: But if loud blame assault thine honour's crown, Take comfort; for that, to defend the right, A generous troop of friends shall surely come To vindicate thy hooted words and ways, Tending the Pythian victor to his home With more than he deserves of love and praise. 10 By the waste of toil and treasure For so slender gains, — By the poor amount of pleasure Bought of many pains, — By the hopes and fears unceasing Both in turn put out, — By the worries still increasing With their rabble rout, — li Human Life, thou robe of Nessus ! We are clad in cares; And the very joys that bless us Are but snakes and snares; And the troubles and the trials, Somehow wisely sent, Turn to seem pernicious vials Pour'd in punishment ! By each vast anticipation And its meagre fact, — By so slight appreciation Of each generous act, — By the coldness, and the meanness In too many found, — By the hard unkindly keenness Watching all around, — 12 Human Life, thou face of Gorgon ! We are harden'd up, And each sympathetic organ Freezes at thy cup, And affection's purest feeling Curdles into gall, And Religion's touch of healing- Does not sweeten all ! By the Past, — a word of sadness "Wet with silly tears ; By the Present, — promised gladness Cheating us for years; By the Future, — dread enigma, Who shall guess its truth? By Fame's breath, and Slander's stigma Vexing Age and Youth; — 13 Human Life, O bitter sweetness, Chequer'd white and black, — Yet dost thou achieve a meetness "Which thy children lack; Whatsoe'er the wind or weather, Joy it is to tell All things work for good together And shall yet be well ! By the thousand tints of Beauty Dropt on every side, — By the magic thought of Duty Whatsoe'er betide, — By the mercies yet about us Little understood, By all else within, without us, Ministering good, — 14 Human Life ! O wondrous story ! Full of light and shade, Soon shalt thou be lit with glory That can never fade ; Soon Affection and Ambition Shall be fully blown, And Our Life achieve its mission On a Royal Throne ! 15 Jtstt snJr Strife. " Live peaceably with all, for aught in thee, If it be possible : " — but is it so, "When every faithful word ensures its foe, And wrath and impulse, in their due degree, Make the lip quiver and the forehead glow? Peace is not always duty; peace forsooth Were sinful compromise with evil men, Whose armed phalanx from the seeds of truth Springs forth, a foeman from each dragon's tooth : If thou essayest good by tongue or pen, Or, worst of all, by force of blameless life, One martyrdom is certain; thou shalt smart A pierced Sebastian from the shafts of strife Aim'd at a loving though a zealous heart. 16 $ailto»B Warn. rapid days, electric hours, Flashing with all that kindles life.- O shifting scene of suns and showers O melodrame of love and strife. — Such stirring racing days as these Are all too full of strong effects For stale simplicity to please, Or equal what the world expects. 17 Time was, a wonder lived nine days, And sorry talents grew to fame ; But now, one minute's curious gaze Is all we give to note or name: Glutted with news of all things strange, We scarcely care to watch the turns Our quick kaleidoscope of Change Is working in the world's concerns. The foaming river of events Hushes adown its rocky steep, And causes, facts, and consequents Are hurl'd together in a heap, And keen Excitement's rainbow light Hangs iridescent o'er the fall Of waters rushing in their might, Solemnly overwhelming all, — 18 Ay, — a Niagara-life is ours ! No rest, but ever hurried on By the great deep's gigantic powers, By the strong wind Euroclydon, — Yea, by the mighty flood of fate, ♦ Yea, by the gale of human crimes We speed along, as if " too late " Were the great terror of the times. The lotus-eaters all are dead; There is no nook for quiet thought; The halcyon birds of peace are fled, And calm contentments come to nought; Spur on,— spur on ! our steeds are strong, i No need to spare them in the pace; With reckless energy headlong We all resolve to win the race. 19 O day of hot competing strife ! O crowded scene of struggling sin ! What chance of any prize in life Has any tyro battling in? The rarest worth wins little gold; Wisdom has barely wit to live ; What chance, compared with calms of old, Does all our hurly-burly give? What chance ? — my counsel is, keep still ; They do not drown who lie afloat, — And quietness sets free the will To pilot well the crankest boat; And, — he that stands aloof from strife, Calmly resolved to thread the maze, Shall quell to his Success in life The riot of these rapid days, c 2 20 JteattwKg* Love must have loveliness to feed upon, Or he shall starve: the beautiful, the pure, The sister-spirit's innocent sweet lure Drawing out fragrance like a gentle sun, — The frankness, yet the tenderness, of truth Nourishing up for their immortal youth The nurselings of Affection one by one,- — With charities, and looks and voices kind, The gracious heart, the free and generous mind,- These are Love's intimates, his brotherhood, Joy of his soul and apple of his eye, The noble and the comely and the good; But if such true companions be not nigh, He pines away for want of spirit-food. 21 Love is akin to Peace, that mother's child, Dying of clamour: love, the lamp of life, Shines as a moon in harvest, mellow and mild, Not flaring up with Etna's fiery strife: Love shrinks from all contention; gentle things, The charitable thought and word and deed, The patient cheerfulness that sits and sings, Plying its daily duty, well agreed With all around, — here Love may fold his wings But he shall spread them, hasting to he freed From meannesses and strifes ; the jealous look, The jarring nerves of a discordant tongue, He cannot dwell with these; and will not brook Such poison-asps his flowers and fruits among. 22 ^atjf (Bm 0f Man ! weak insect, poor and proud, Atom, lost amid the crowd, Ever pushing on through life Buffeted hy sinful strife, — Man ! mere drop of all those seas, Leaf among the forest trees, Paltry pebble on the shore Heap'd by myriad myriads more, — Man ! mean item in the list, Hardly counted, little miss'd, Unconsider'd and unknown, Lightly cared for, left alone, Daily toiling in thy lot, And, when dead, remember'd not, — Man ! how evil is thy state, Cold, and stern, and desolate ! 23 Man ! rare chrysalis of Light Watch'd and nurst by angels bright, Heir of Grandeurs ! soon to be Bipen'd and reveal'd in thee, — Man ! true claimant of the Skies, Owner of Creation's prize, Waiting meek at Glory's door, King among ten thousand more, — Man ! great end of all beside, To the Lord of all allied, — Undiscover'd lump of gold, Spring unseal'd of joys untold, In thy duties daily blest, And — when all are done — at Best; Man ! how beauteous and divine Is this low estate of thine ! 24 $mm. Success hath many friends : some faithful found As grown to reverent love and just esteem ; Some other, not so hearty as they seem, Yeer fickle-minded with the winds around: Yet more, the shams and worldlings, only scheme Each shrewdly for his own, clinging to self More than to him who rises from the ground, Pride, reputation, pleasure, common pelf All binding to his wings: but many foes Crowd also round Success ; the Lion's track Is hunted by an envious jackal-pack Born to be disappointed, and to hate Goodness, maligning him behind his back, And vainly lusting for his high estate. 25 Maratti Writer, whosoe'er thou art, Speaker, on whatever theme, Write and speak from heart to heart, Truly heing what you seem ; Thoughts and words alone have power When they reach us quick and fresh, And the spirit of the hour Turns these stones to hearts of flesh ! 26 Living truth, that hubbies hot, Like a Geyser in the soul, Boils and steams and slackens not Till it overflows its bowl, Strongly runs the current then, Swiftly all the sluices fill, And the swollen hearts of men Are a river to thy will ! Who can wonder that in vain Scores of dullards preach for years, Lulling conscience to its bane Fast asleep in hopes and fears? All is death: each fossil thought Word- embedded lies in , clay, And no heart is touch' d or taught To feel, to tremble, or to pray. 27 It is not eloquence, nor skill, Nor any human power or art, That surely sways another's will, Controls his life and cheers his heart; It is the frank and earnest plan Of simple truth sincerely spoken, That "breaks the spirit of a man, Or heals it up however broken ! Seek then a living Warmth within To work with vital force without; Drive from thee selfishness and sin, And force thy fervent graces out; Then write or speak what impulse wills, And no man shall withstand the power That from the lip of truth distils In quicken'd feeling's thrilling hour ! 28 %\t pnjjleft Cap. Happier under other skies, — So dreams man — Happier, link'd with other ties, Better, worthier, and more wise, Were Life's plan: Anyhow hut as things are, — So man dreams — Born beneath some kindlier star Surely Life were nobler far Than now seems ! 29 Most of us are dreamers here, Wishing a change; Athirst to spice our common cheer, This dull routine of daily sphere, With new and strange. Most are murmurers, kicking still Against our lot; Unhelieving God's wise will, That portions human good and ill, m And favours not. Discontent looks on, and longs, Envying other; Counting up his scars and wrongs Each man covets what belongs To his brother ! 30 Meantime, Duty's leaf and flower Both must wither; And, for Peace of Mind, — each hour Breeds its harpies to devour, Flapping hither. Then does Life, so vain at hest, Pine more weakly, Vampires draining it of rest, Where Contentment had been blest Bearing meekly. Oh ! let be ; thy fate is fixt, Cast by Heaven; Future, Past, and all betwixt Is a chalice shrewdly mixt, — Must and leaven: 31 Well fermented, weal and woe Make soul's wine, — And hereafter thou shalt know How Life's hitter yeast helow Doth refine. Earth may make thee taste her gall, Or drink it up; But Heaven shall make amends for all When thou dost keep high festival At God's own cup. 32 6Ip! fMptts, The flying years ! the flying years ! How rapidly they wing away, — With all their covey' d hopes and fears A mingled flock of grave and gay! Look on the Past, — a dream, a dream Of saddening thoughts and cloudy things ; Look at the Future, — does it seem Less than a Fate with folded wings? Look to the Present, — this indeed Is worth our all of cost and care, And daily oread for daily need Is . Wisdom's solitary pray'r. 33 Jl pram bS iftmt Never have regrets, brother, But for sake of sin; The treacherous heart within All too soon forgets, brother, How it felt, and was, in thought, Acting out the thing it ought. All thy will was well, brother, Well diclst thou deserve; Circumstance might swerve, But, the truth to tell, brother, Consequences none foresee Never need be cares to thee. 34 Always for the best, brother, Hourly hast thou striven; Though to be forgiven, This shall be thy test, brother, — Did not honest zeal obey Duty's impulse every day ? What seem'd then so right, brother, Let no censure now, No unkindly brow, Damage in thy sight, brother; Yesterday did what it could; Scorn not thou its humbler good! To thyself be true, brother; Yield not to regret ; Nor thy spirit fret To do, or to undo, brother, What is now beyond thy skill ; Facts are facts, say what we will. 35 Every Present seems, brother, Girt about with friends ; Every Future sends Glory to thy dreams, brother ; But we all condemn too fast The friendless and the hopeless Past. Scorn not what thou wast, brother,- Trust not what thou art ; Watch thy coward heart ; Look to that thou hast, brother ; Nothing is within thy power, But the swiftly passing hour. Therefore do not set, brother, Sorrow on the past; When the die is cast Never nurse regret, brother : Only for thy sin be sad, For all beside be wisely glad ! d 2 86 $8ta; fyt $ak. But this dead level, — Patience; what a change From Passion's craggy glens and crested heights ! What a dull ebb, — stagnation sad and strange Prom Peeling's tide of boundless ocean range "With flooding hopes and terrors and delights ! O Patience, — yet thou hast a baser name Cut in the flint of man's enduring heart, — Callous contempt alike of scorn and fame, Self, well resign' d to play the Stoic part, Or truer, as an Epicure to stand Balancing present comforts in the hand With cold philosophy: see, that thou disown This evil fruit of worldly trouble sown Which Man calls Patience, God, the heart of stone. 37 )at»; % tot The martyr 'd spirit that can shrink and feel, Gently enduring long; the generous mind After ill-usage waiting to be kind; The man, who for his enemy can kneel And beg from Heav'n forgiveness to his sin; The outraged heart, all tenderness within, Though like a hero plated up in steel; These be the Patient ones whom God approves : He wills no feeling quench' cl, no hope destroyed ; He claims affection's life, the warmth of zeal, All noblest active impulses and loves Energized and encouraged and enjoy'd, — Then counsels Patience ; with her oily balm Lulling life's roughening surface to a calm. 38 Mf-n$tmmL Thee from thyself to rescue and to save, O man ! is God's salvation ; other foes Were easier conquest, even to The Grave : And for this end our God commandment gave That, all things whereby Nature works, in those Should man resist, lest he should be then slave: " Thou shalt not ' ? — is the law ; however hot Be wrath, or covetous wish, or low desire, Or any selfish purpose, thou shalt Not : Within thee lies a hidden fount of fire, And, if with evil thou dost fan a blaze, Woe, for the flaming house ; if self-control Chastens its fierceness into genial rays, Eejoice ! it glows the hearth-fire of the soul. 39 % Mm* «f »m. Make the best of all things, As thy lot is cast; Whatsoe'er we call things, All is well at last If meanwhile in cheerful power Patience rules the suffering hour. Make the best of all things, — Howsoe'er they be; Change may well befall things, If it's ill with thee; And if well, this present joy Let no future fears destroy. 40 Make the best of all tilings, — That is Wisdom's word ; In the day of small things Is its comfort heard, — And its blessing soothes not less Any heyday of success. Make the best of all things ; Discontent's old leaven Falsely would forestall things Antedating heaven, — But smile thou and rest content, Bearing trials wisely sent. 41 These twenty years, — how full of gain to us, To common humble multitudinous Man ! How swiftly Providence advances thus Our flag of progress flaming in the van ! This double decade of the world's short span Is richer than two centuries of old ; Richer in helps, advantages, and pleasures, And all things wealthy — even down to gold — To all of every class in equal measures : We travel quicker now than Isthmians might; In books, we drink of more than Hebe's chalice All wonders of the world at one glad sight We find in our luxurious Crystal Palace ; And everywhere we see that right is might. 42 fee $Mit& A vaunt — Exclusions cold and proud ! — Your doom is come, your day is past ; Not even Fashion dares to cast Contempt upon the common crowd. The lofty noble now must bend To own his humbler brother-man, And stoop to teach the artisan In hope betimes to make a friend. 43 It will not do to stand aside; Hani?: has its duties, as its dues ; The latter will we not refuse, If met with anything hut pride. < It shall not serve, that old-time plan Of making worship cling to hirth ; A magnate shorn of private worth Is hut the scorn and shame of Man. O Eank ! from nobler sires derived, O "Wealth ! purse-rich but nothing more, Grow worthier of your state and store Or of their homage go deprived. The time is come for truer things, When honour, love, and all beside, Refused to supercilious pride, Is paid to peasants as to kings. 44 For both alike are brethren true, Each in his station doing right, — - Beheld in superhuman light God's servants, earning wages due. None will deny the first and best, To king and noble gladly given, If they but live as, under Heaven, Set in high place to help the rest: But let them heed this mighty truth, — (Which, for their weakness, we would ken Indulgently as due to men Pamper'd in age and snared in youth) — If pride, or lust, or sloth forlorn Dim and defile their high estate, Our willing love is turn'd to hate, Our ready homage smiles in scorn. 4o |«MMW% Measuee not thyself with others, — Heed the work thou hast to do ; Each man's duty, not his brother's, Is his goal to keep in view : Nature, circumstance, and station, With what God from each exacts As his tribute to Creation, These decide our aims and acts. 46 Every creature fitly fashion' d Hath its being's final cause ; And our minds and hearts impassion'd Beat with individual laws : All are various, differing measures Fill us each with power to work, And the spirit's special treasures Latent in each bosom lurk. How shouldst thou declare the causes That have wrought thy brother thus ? Plastic Wisdom never pauses In such modelling of us : How canst thou suggest the reasons For his baser life or lot ? Matter has its changing seasons, "Why should spirit vary not? 47 Shall the Arctic blame the Torrid? Shall the East defame the West? Shall the foot rebuke the forehead That it thinks in lazy rest ? Every creature to its mission, Every bullet to its mark, Every man in his condition Wanted for the Church's Ark ! Scorn not, — envy not, — and judge not : Scorn is Folly's cruel wife ; And, for Envy, — Churl, begrudge not Some poor brother's luck in life ; And, for Judgment, — to our Master Singly we must stand or fall; Life's Foreknower, and Forecaster, Wills, and weighs, and shapes it all ! 48 %\t jta at Wxatq. Swollen torrent, dark and deep, Eushing down the rocky steep, — Tempest- driven cloud on high Scudding wildly through the sky, — Dread volcano, muttering death From red-hot lips with binning breath,- Scarce shall these in type reveal What the nobler spirits feel When, in silence stern and strong, They wrestle with the Sense of Wrong. 49 Ha! — when insult hisses near, Or scorn drops hemlock on the ear, Or fraud has triumph'd over right, Or gentleness is mock'd by might, Or only, worth is seen unprized, Or only, honour goes despised, Then, in a whirlwind chafes along The soul beneath a Sense of Wrong! Yes, — Patriot of a race downtrod; Yes, Martyr for a slander'd God ; Yes, Man of large and liberal mind Wroth with the meanness of mankind; Yes, all who love the lovely still, And hate the vile with right good will, — Your hearts can echo to my song, And ache beneath the Sense of Wrong! 50 %\t $m at ligjjt Calm in well-deserving, Happy at the heart, Duty does his part Stedfast and unswerving. How should it affect him If some mocking-birds Clamour at his words, Or the world neglect him? 51 Conscience is the treasure Lock'd within his breast, — "What were all the rest To that inner pleasure? Brother, sunk in sorrow, Find thy balm within, To-day a comfort win Before the heavenly Morrow. Feed upon this blessing Though thy path be rough, Let it be enough Such a grace possessing: And when wrongs come near thee Crowding to the fight, Let the Sense of Eight Make thee strong and cheer thee! e 2 52 $, pflttfm Thou canst not help the thousand things That might be better done; Corruption its black shadow flings On all beneath the sun; 'Not thought nor word or deed can reach The purity our yearnings preach, Nothing is perfect; be content, — Thank God it is no worse; Creation pays a bitter rent And sins beneath a curse; Thank God for blessing still bestow' d And grace to lift guilt's crushing load. 53 Thou canst not work thy nobler will Unvex'd by sin and strife; A mingled draught of good and ill Is still the cup of life; Take it and drink; for it is meet Thy spirit quaff that bitter sweet. Detraction like a scorpion stands To strike at men and things; The spider with her hideous hands Clings to the skirts of kings; Be sure thy cot shall not escape The poison of that dreaded shape. Slander shall mar thy purest work, And spot thy fairest robe; The cancer-roots of evil lurk Throughout the groaning globe; The thing well-done might better be; And there are thousand faults in thee. 54 W\ti M all feel Ah! Life, — so purposeless yet steep'd in self, I do confess thee, yea I do condemn thee, So pack'd with pleasure, or so plann'd for pelf, I do denounce thee, yea I do contemn thee. Ah ! Life, — so changeful, yet so dull and tame, I dread and doubt thee, while I must despise thee, So lotteried, and still so blank the same, I wait and hope, despairing while I prize thee. 55 Ah! Life, — be better; yet thou hast no crime Thus to abjure, for still thy will is worthy; Only thou weepest for the flight of time, And that thou art too useless and too earthy. Ah ! Life, — enduringly I watch and wait ; Winter is patient, till the day be lengthened, And well-ripe fruit, delay'd but not too late, Comes of a root by frosty sorrow strengthen'd. Yes, Life ! in hope for ever luring on I fight my way and strive for better things, Assured at last to find thy Battle won, And Victory fanning me with purpic wings. 56 % \t €t\\\\mxm. Not alone by generous birth (Greatly though it fashions men). Not by all the wealth of earth, Not by all the talents ten, Not by beauty, nor by wit, No, nor manners well refined, — Is that name of honour writ On the forehead of the mind. 57 Poverty retains it oft, With the peasant it hath dwelt, And its influence sweet and soft In the scholarless heen felt ; Lowly birth, and sorrow's power, All that want of all things can, Have not marr'd — nor made — one hour That true knight, the Gentleman. Charity, — unselfish zeal Lest a sorrow or a shame Any one be made to feel Undeserving scorn or blame,— Dignity, — the generous sense That himself is heir outright To that heritage immense, — King and priest of worlds of light, — 58 Lowliness of heart withal, — Purity of word and life — Courage, — not for arms to eall But to quell insurgent strife, — Honour, — -for the good and true With Bayard to guard the van, — And what Courtesies are due, These make up the Gentleman. Ay, Sir calm and cold and proud, Trust me, for the word is true, There are thousands in the crowd Finer gentlemen than you; More, — for all your courtly birth And each boon by fortune given, Know that gentlemen of earth Are always gentle sons of heaven. 59 Chesterfields, and modes, and rules For polish' d age or stilted youth, And high breeding's choicest schools Need to learn this deeper truth, That to act, whate'er betide, Nobly on the Christian plan, This is still the surest guide How to be the Gentleman! 60 Wm&w. Thine: not, O man, that strong Temptation's hour, For all thy might of mind, is past to thee; Dream not, presumptuous, that thy state is free From evil chance and change and Satan's power. Hot Nature still may vex thy soul within, And fire its house with wantonness or strife, Still can thy heart make shipwreck of its life, And drown in gulphs of dark tumultuous sin. 61 How canst thou guess the trials coming near, Or whether some lost spirit be not sent To lure thy pride to some due punishment, For that, high-minded, thou hast cast off fear? O never is there safety for the soul Out of true humbleness; the purest saint Shall burst through grace, and habit's good constraint, If lust and pride within him win control. Then, be thou ware, frail creature ! watch and pray ; Thou hast no stores, but only manna given; Go, flee temptation at the gates of heaven, And humbly ask thy daily bread to-day. 62 lit f eart raft t\t pttir. Warm heart, soft heart, generous and gentle, Full of sweet affections, sympathies, and loves, — How thou transcendest all the merely mental, How dost thou exceed in all The Holy One approves ! In affliction's hour Gracious in thy power Tenderly thou comfortest, a sister in distress, — 63 And when matters brighten, How thy smiles enlighten Every one that looks on thee, an angel sent to bless, Every eye that lights from thee its torch of hap- piness ! Clear mind, keen mind, walTd about with greatness, Conqueror unconquerable over human ill, Theban Colossus sitting in sedateness, How art thou in majesty a mighty spirit still ! In the day of trouble, Though its grief be double, Gloriously thou triumphest above the battle-din, And when, after sadness, All is turn'd to gladness, Thou remainest calm, a true philosopher within, Calm amidst a universe of folly, strife and sin! 64 Great heart! great mind! be ye both united, Knit in holy wedlock, mind and heart as man and wife, So shall the soul, to strength and beauty plighted, Bring forth all its precious fruits in perfect Christian life ! Ever full of feeling, Yet the spirit steeling Sturdily against the wrongs and troubles of this earth, — Ever strong and steady Yet in spirit ready Heartily to pity or to love where love is worth, Lovingly to live the life begun at second birth ! 65 %\t (toiwm tapkint Tyrannic Circumstance ! whose jealous power Guards every turn, and watches every hour, With secret influences controlling still The conduct, and the spirits, and the will, Alas, — that each of us is seen a slave, In fetters from the cradle to the grave! What? — am I free? each natural bent within, Inherited infirmity and sin, The brain, the disposition, and the shape, And new-hatch' d passion, slumbering or agape With tastes inclined for normal peace or strife, These warp the man, and mould his heart and life, p 66 What? — am I free? each artifice without, Wherein convention hedges us about, Family likenesses of make and mind, Habit, example, usage harsh or kind, And every tone and temper all around, These link the chain to keep the freeman bound. Poor Gulliver, the giant of the skies, Is tied to earth by countless petty ties ; Helpless in head and body, hands and feet, Worried by pigmies with their arrowy sleet, Humbled to wants, and cow'd by disesteem, And seeing things around as in a dream, Prostrate he lies, — with all his wit and power Made captive to the trifles of the hour ! Jtostomfc And yet, — What is this ruthless Circumstance? A stolid Fate? or trivial thing of Chance? What, O thou discontented ! is this Power Guiding thy way, and guarding every hour? Is it aught else than God's paternal care, — His Providence o'erruling everywhere, His kind and mighty and mysterious Will That fix'd thee where thou art, and holds thee still? O Mind and ignorant, — who dost not know That all our checks and trials here below, Our inner crosses, and our outer cares, Our wants, temptations, sorrows, fears, and snares, f2 68 That all the disappointment and the strife That baffle hope and break the rest of life, All, all are sent, — and ordered from above In strictest justice and profoundest Love ! A slave ? in fetters ? — Yes ! for thou art bound To toil awhile for everything around; Not to himself may any creature live, — Not to delights his time and talents give, — Not think of Gain amidst a world of Loss, — But duteously go forth, and bear — a cross ! Thou canst not choose: the lot is cast for thee: Thy care be still in Duty's path to be; Under all hindrance striving for the best, — And leaving Heaven to care for all the rest. 69 The die is cast, — be satisfied; The chance is past, — be still: For this, no more Occasion's tide Can waft thee good or ill; The hour is gone, the deed is done, And all the battle lost or won. Stand on the Fact in patience strong, And never nurse regret; Bid this stern Present, right or wrong, That dreamy Past forget; And work with all thy skill and power The living duties of the hour. 70 All else is nought, all else is dead, Disguise it as we may; Causes with yesterday have sped, Results are here to-day; Take them, and use them as ye can Eight loyally for God and Man. The Thought that was not born a Thing Is only false Romance ; Reality is [Nature's King, Unfearing change or chance ; "When men can stand upon a Fact, Duty shows clear, and Faith may act. 71 %\t $m, % Wmll Consider thou, — the world in which we live Is God's great field for wise experiment; Wherein, except what mercy must forgive, All else goes on by rule and measurement, True root and fruit, fit cause and consequent: And angels watch it all; those loving minds Note every just effect and mean and cause, And each Intelligence delighted finds In all the working of eternal laws, And so adores the Ruler: faith in Him Makes every riddle clear that else were dim; And all our trials to one issue tend, That issue, dear to saints and cherubim, God's glory, — our beginning, middle, end. 72 Iff a §mmm graft. Unworldly child of feeling, With kindled eye and kindly heart Incautiously revealing How loving and how true thou art, — Alas ! for men will use thee, And even while they use contemn, And in their turn refuse thee The help that thou hast yielded them. 73 Yet holy angels love thee, And yearningly they shield from harm As glorious guards above thee A spirit found so fresh and warm; And God Himself doth bless thee, And all the souls made perfect now In sympathy caress thee, Kissing thine illumined brow ! Still, while I praise thy beauty, Thy characters of lovely light, In friendship's tender duty, I counsel thee, dear youth, aright: Remember one true sentence — That "pearls should not be cast to swine,"- And never shall repentance Becloud one generous act of thine. 74 %wt'$ f murar. The attributes of God are all in all Of beauty and of glory: man admireth In creature-excellence despite tbe fall Just what reflected Deity inspireth: So cometh it, that Loveliness hath love, Truth doth enchant, and Mighty Force appal; And, as The Father is enthroned above, " Ancient of Days," — Antiquity requireth Man's homage for such nearness to his God : And so, when ancestry beneath the sod, And old old woods, and rooftree black with age To modern days reflect an ancient fame Enshrined in history's mediaeval page, These paint the gilded halo round a ISame. 75 $ i|mr|flt in a % \mm^xt Surging on in ceaseless shoals Thousands of immortal souls, Wave on wave of restless life Crested rough with selfish strife, — What a cavalcade comes nigh In this crowd of passers by ! O the sorrows, pains, and cares, — O the troubles, sins, and snares, — O the histories past belief Piled with wrong and soak'd in grief,- O the hidden woes that lie In this crowd of passers by! Watch the faces as they pass; "What a strangely changeful mass,- Business, pleasure, duty, sin, War without, or peace within, Glooms or gladdens every eye In this crowd of passers by. There, is vice and wanton youth,— There, contented worth and truth,- There, the sons of toil and skill,— And the thousands gather still — Ah ! poor monad, what am I In this crowd of passers by? Each of all the multitude Hath his evil and his good; Every one his hopes and fears, All alike their joys and tears; All must suffer, all must die In this crowd of passers by ! 77 Craving body, yearning soul, Each is to himself a whole ; And how little any cares How his fainting brother fares ; And how frequent is the sigh In this crowd of passers by! Yet as thus I move along Carried onward by the throng, In a solitude I seem Walking in a peopled dream, Where around me phantoms fly In this crowd of passers by. All alone I stand aside Listening to the human tide, Till my shuddering spirit hears Wailing down the gulph of years An exceeding bitter cry From that crowd of passers by. Silent*. Deab Xurse of Thought, calm chaos -brooding dove, Thee, Silence, well I love; Mother of Fancy, friend and sister mine, Silence, my heart is thine. Karer than Eloquence, and sweeter far Thy dulcet pauses are; Stronger than Music, charm she ne'er so well, Is, Silence, thy soft spell. 79 The rushing crystals throb about my brain, And thrill, and shoot again, — Their teeming imagery crowds my sphere, If Silence be but here. Bodily rest is Sleep, the soothing sleep, Spirit-rest, Silence deep ; O daily discord, cease, for mercy cease ! Break not this happy peace. The melodies within alone are heard, By their own stillness stirr'd ; O mute, and motionless, — death of strife, O precious lull in life ! Now know I how Pygmalion's spirit stern Could on a statue yearn, — The hush'd, the beautiful, the calmly fair, The marble Silence there! 80 %\t Yaffil m\h % tee. Nothing lasts that is not good; Nothing stands that is not true : — What a thing misunderstood, What a thought kept out of view ! O pretences, shams, and cheats, You may strut your little day, — But Confusion swiftly meets And surely drives you all away! 81 Never yet was Truth assail' d, But the struggle gave it strength ; " Great is Truth and has prevailed " Always comes to pass at length: Never yet was Good attack'd, But the very foe that smote Whiten' d up what slander black'd? And abjured what malice wrote ! What is Good? — the pure and kind; What is Truth? — the wise and right; And, in Matter as in Mind, Both will live in death's despite : But the bad, the false, the base, Barely breathe one feverish hour, Dying out of every place Like a rootless nosegay flower. 82 How then comes it, that so oft Good men droop, and good things drown? How, that Lies are throned aloft, While so many Truths die down? — How? — For just a little while, And by just a herd of fools, Cheats are praised, and shams beguile, And sin is stout where Satan rules: Ay, — but look a little higher, Forward post your eager eye, You that gloriously aspire, And on God and Eight rely; Evil perishes — forsake it, — Falsehood dies — renounce its sway, — Eut the Good, for treasure take it, — And secure the True to-day! 83 C|ass CrpMKpg. Give it only time enough, Every thing shall find its place; Every creature wins its race, Though the course be rough. All is not Mistake on earth; Providence fulfils its plan; And Creation, down to man, Justifies its birth. g 2 84 Folly builds her Babel tower, Where, — since "Wisdom well permits,- Grey Old Sin a Nimrod sits For his human hour: Let a little time have fled, And anon it topples down ; And we tear away the crown From that usurper's head ! All shall yet be right at last; Coming Day shall clear it up; And Creation's stirrup-cup Sweeten all the past. Good achieves its glorious ends; Soon for Evil's transient reign Spite of guilt and grief and pain Making rich amends. 85 Now, like crystallizing salts, All is seen confusion here; But right soon it shall appear Wisdom makes no faults : Atom to its atom flies, Every bevilPd angle fits, Till at length fair Order sits Enthroned on earth and skies. 86 J C0iiS0lafi0n. God be thank'd that storms blow over, Gob be praised that faith endures ! Nature, universal lover, Ever works such timely cures; Wolf-like fears may still be howling, But they come not near us oft If we scare them in their prowling By the torch of hope aloft! 87 O the many dreads and troubles Wisdom shows us, — only shows ; To the brim the cauldron bubbles But it seldom overflows; To correct us and to try us Brood the black tempestuous skies, But those terrors come not nigh us If they find, or make us — wise. He, that is the Source and Sender, Knows how trouble chastens still; But Himself is our defender When that trouble works for ill: Thus, our faith may trust Him blindly Should He send us help or grief, For His Majesty deals kindly Both in trial and relief! 88 & SKjfr O Life ! — what a dream, What a tale that is told ! How strangely I seem On a sudden grown old ; "With records behind me Of years by the score, And all to remind me That they are no more ! 89 The friends of my prime Are dead, or grown grey, Or distanced by time, Or stolen away; And as my thought ranges O'er people and things, Perpetual changes My memory rings ! Ah ! days that are past, — How vague to mine eyes As perishing fast Recollections arise !. O pity and sorrow That feelings decay, And ev'ry To-morrow Out-clamours To-day! 90 But solemn in sooth Is Yesterday's page, — Alas ! for my youth, Alas ! for mine age, Alas ! is the sighing From heart and from head, For pleasures so flying And pleasures so fled ! 91 . §oti sift €bfl. Good hath been born of Evil many times, As pearls and precious ambergris are grown — Fruits of disease, in pain and sickness sown ; Nations have won their liberty through crimes, And men true gain of losses : God alone, Unreachable upon His holy throne, Needeth not shade to illustrate His light, Nor less to foil His greatest: but for man The wrong must riot to awake the right, And patience grow of pain, as day of night, And wisdom end what woesome harm began; And think not to unravel in thy thought This mingled tissue, this mysterious plan, This alchemy of good through evil wrought. 92 Strange Jtttritartes. Vengeance, and jealousy, and wrath are Thine : Can these things be indeed, most loving Lord, Or have we spoilt the beauty of Thy word By names so dark for attributes divine? — Yet must true justice vindicate the right, And scatter wrong in well- avenging might, Chastising, not revenging: yet must Love Most fondly claim that every heart should beat As its own bliss for only God above : Yet must some moral fire, some holy heat, Pervade the Will that else were wilfulness : Those words are well ; He doth avenge the wrong, His love is jealous thee by love to bless, And sin shall rouse His wrath, though suffering long. 93 %\t fast $td\L Poor Arctic ! once awhile my floating home Full of kind faces, my right royal yacht, Alas ! how swift and terrible a lot Has caught and whelm'd thee in the billowy foam. The gay saloon was ringing with its mirth, — Sudden Collision comes with frightful crash, And over all the riotous waters dash, Bushing from deck to deck, from berth to berth ! I will not coldly try to paint in rhyme Those thousand horrors; let the sobbing sea Chant its wild requiem over thine and thee, And darkness spread above its pall sublime. 94 Rather shall memory linger on the days When, girt with friends, I somewhile paced thy deck, Watching the distant iceberg's sparkling speck, Or the broad sun down-setting in a blaze : The nautilus would stretch its paper sail Cresting the swell to catch our eager eyes, Or petrels from the cradling trough would rise, Or the sharp fin of some black basking whale: And then, the merry games, and kindly looks Of pleasant shipmates, and the noonday stakes, How many knots an hour the good ship makes — Rousing the dozers from their chess and books : And then, — Woe, woe! that on such scenes as these The Viking, Death, should like a pirate burst, And drag them all, in gulphing waves immerst, Down to the charnel-caverns of the sea! 95 All, — but the dingers to some sinking boat Lost in the fog, or on that raft — Despair; One — only one of seventy ! — lingereth there, While buoy'd around him upturned corpses float! All, — but the Abdiel-captain of the crew, Who, sinking nobly with his sinking ship, Then battled back to life with dauntless lip, — A righteous Jonah, faithful found and true. All ? — yet a remnant — (of five hundred souls Hope breathes a tithe) — miraculously saved; Above the rest, where first that Viking raved, His mighty banner the dark Ocean rolls! O Life, and luxury, and hope, and health, And suddenly — Destruction ! who can know How huge the sum of man's and woman's woe When my poor Arctic sank with all her wealth? 96 feflff. Be true, be true! whate'er beside Of wit or wealth or rank be thine, Unless with simple truth allied, The gold that glitters in thy mine Is only dross, the brass of pride Or vainer tinsel, made to shine. Be true, be true ! the prize of earth From God alike with man forsooth, The real nobility of birth To age, maturity, or youth, The very crown of creature-worth, Is easy guileless open Truth. 97 Be true, be true ! to nerve your arm For any good ye wish to do ; To save yourselves from sin and harm, And win all honours old and new ; To work on hearts as with a charm, — - The maxim is, Be true, be true ! Be true, be true ! that easy prize So loveable to human view, So laudable beyond the skies, Alas ! is reached by very few — The simple ones, though more than wise, Whose motto is, Be true, be true! H }v&. Duty ! shorn of which the wisest And the best were little worth, How with dignity thou risest O'er the littleness of earth; How thou blessest each condition Shedding peace and glory round, Even binding hot Ambition In thy service to be found ! Duty, — though the lot be lowly, God's broad- arrow thou art seen Marking very trifles holy, And exalting what were mean ; In this thought the poor may revel That obeying Duty's word, Humblest want is on a level With my lady or my lord. Duty, — seen in lofty station As the brightest jewel there, Providence doth bless the nation Where thy badge its rulers bear; England ! God regards with favour Both thy Queen and People too, For that Duty's precious savour Still is found in all they do. Lore H 2 100 globing on. In vain, — there is no respite and no rest, No flagging in our headlong reckless race ; In yain with clutching grasp and yearning breast We strive to check the steeds of Time and Space. All rushes on; no creature stops an horn; The babe, the boy, the man, the dotard — dies; Perpetual changes vex the wayside flower, And the great worlds careering through the skies. 101 Yet is it sad that Beauty scarce can bloom, Hardly can Wisdom drop one word of truth, Before the sage is humbled to the tomb, And wrinkles gather round the eyes of youth. Alas ! because it hardens us at heart, This constant moving- on, — this phantom scene Of daily hourly meetings soon to part, And made to be as they had never been. New hopes, new motives, all things ever new Expelling all things old, however dear, Uproot the mind from growing strong and true, And the poor heart in all its longings sear. A gloom, a solemn sadness, and a hope — A mighty hope, but mixed with bitter fear, All lie within this sad reflection's scope That nothing — nothing — hath continuance here. 102 We wake, — and yesterday is thrown behind To play to-day's half-masqueraded part; Energy cheering on the hopeful mind, But pale-faced memory holding back the heart. Alas ! I cannot read these thoughts aright ; I fain would say that we shall see once more Some resurrection of the visions bright That here, like mountain-mists, have swept us o'er: I fain, in this perpetual moving- on, Would see the shadowy type of stabler things; Old loves renew'd, old victories rewon, Old chords restruck upon the old heartstrings ! If otherwise, it were a waste, — a loss Of truth and beauty, happiness and love; But — there are all redemptions in the Cross, And more than Space and Time in Heaven above ! 103 AS BETWEEN MAN AND HIS BROTHER,. Man's inhumanity to Man ! Oh hideous tale to tell, — What cheek unblanch'd can calmly scan Those characters of hell? What pen, what poet, dares to paint The terrors of that strife, Wherein so many a martyr'd saint Has moan'd away his life? 104 O Roman friars, — Spanish priests, Ye wretched cruel men, More bloody than infuriate beasts Half-famish'd in their den, — How dreadful are the human woes Your secret vaults have seen, — Gob's patient vengeance only knows What horrors there have been! And, Slavery ! human nature's shame, The curse of human-kind, How hateful is thy very name To ear, and heart, and mind ! The sugar-mill, the cotton-field, The lash, the goad, the chain, — Alas ! how huge a crop they yield Of wickedness and pain ! 105 And, here at home, let childhood's shriek On coalpit echoes home, — And starving woman's hollow cheek In city streets forlorn, — And mean oppression's heavy hand On patient merit's head, — Ask everywhere throughout the land, — Whither has Mercy fled? Yet is there comfort: God ahove Long-suffering doth not sleep; He treasures up with tenderest love The tears of those who weep; Holy, and Merciful, and Strong, Be sure, His glorious Might Eor all oppression, pain, and wrong Will righteously requite ! 106 And there is comfort: victim soul, Go straight before that Judge; With pitying care to hear the whole His patience will not grudge; So, out of harm, and hate, and pain, If thou but kiss the rod, Thou shalt attain the golden gain Of Brotherhood with God ! 107 €twtlty : AS BETOKEN MAN AND HIS BEAST. Man's cruel baseness to his beast ! — Poor uncomplaining brute, Its wrongs are innocent at least, And all its sorrows mute : They cannot have deserved their woes, As these bad masters can; And evil is the lot of those Who serve the tyrant, Man. 108 I dare not let my fever'd thought Brood o'er the frightful page By human malice writ and wrought In every clime and age ! Alas ! the catalogue of crime Begun by cruel Cain Has made the swollen stream of Time One cataract of pain ! Lo ! surgery's philosophic knife, Too merciless to kill, Dissecting out the strings of life "With calm and horrid skill, — And bloody goads, — and wealing whips, And many a torture fell, Have wrung from every creature's lips That Earth to them is Hell! 109 Yea: dream not that the Good and Wise To these can be unjust; Nor, if not claimants for the skies, That all dissolve to dust: They have a spirit which survives This cauldron of unrest, And here though wretched in their lives, Elsewhere they shall be blest ! In the just Government and strong Of such a God as ours, Only for wickedness and wrong Perpetual Judgment lours: ~No creature ever ran a race Of griefs not earn'd before, "Without some compensating grace Of happiness in store ! 110 Let this, then, comfort those who weep For Crime and Pity too; For if just judgment doth not sleep, ~No more doth mercy true : The cruel Man, — lament his fate. For he can reach no Miss; — The tortured beast, — its future state Shall recompense for this. Ill gtatjpr's " fattens !" Bravo ! brave old Teuton heart, Noble " Marshal Forwards ! '■' Bravo ! every better part, — Nature, Providence, and Art, — Agrees in going forwards; If we gain, to gain the more, Pressing on to things before, Ever marching forwards; 112 If we lose, — by swift attack Soon to win those losses back By the rule of — Forwards ! Forwards ! it 's the way of life, Always urging forwards, — Be it peace, or be it strife, Stagnant-ripe, or tempest -rife, All is moving forwards ; Generations live and die, Stars are journeying on the sky By the law of forwards; Space and Time, and you, and I, And all — but Gob's Eternity — Tend for ever forwards ! So, good youth, go on and win ! Conquest lives in forwards; 113 Go, if once you well begin, Steering clear of self and sin, Forwards, ever forwards ! Never could the foe withstand Honest Blucher's one command, Forwards, soldiers ! forwards,- Never shall the foe be met Bold enough to front thee yet, If thy face is Forwards ! 114 Ssjmt. Higher, higher, ever higher, — Let thy watchword be " Aspire ! " ISoble Christian youth; "Whatsoe'er be God's behest, Try to do that duty best In the strength of Truth. Let a just Ambition fire Every motive and desire God and man to serve ; Man, with zeal and honour due, God, with gratitude most true, And all the spirit's nerve ! 115 Let not Doubt thine efforts tire, God will give what all require, — Raiment, home, and food ; And with these contented well, Bid thine aspirations swell To the Highest Good! From the perils deep and dire Of Temptation's sensual mire Keep thy chasten'cl feet ; Dread, and hate, and turn away From the lure that leads astray, Satan's pleasure- cheat ! And, while thus a self- denier, Stand the stalworth self-relier, — Bravely battling on, Though alone, — no soul alive Ever stoutly dared to strive But saw the battle won ! i2 116 Though thy path be thorn and brier, Every step shall bring thee nigher To Creation's prize; With "Excelsior" on thy flag, Thou shalt tread the topmost crag, And soar into the skies. Higher, then, and always higher, — Let thy motto be " Aspire ! " "Whosoe'er thou be ; Holy liver ! happy dier ! Earth's poor best, and Heaven's quire, Are reserved for thee ! Ill f raiiitotM f mtg. Watch little providences : if indeed Or less there be, or greater, in the sight Of Him who governs all by day and night, And sees the forest hidden in the seed : Of all that happens take thou reverent heed, For seen in true Religion's happier light (Though not unknown of reason's placid creed) All things are order'd; all by orbits move, Having precursors, satellites, and signs, Whereby the mind not doubtfully divines What is the will of Him who rules above, And takes for guidance those paternal hints That all is well, that thou art led by Love, And in thy travel trackest old footprints. 118 %\t J«trfg |ottt|fttIness. As by an effort only, reckoning o'er The fleeting years, and lives of other men. How life creeps on apace, and why and when Its changing phases should affect us more, We guess and gather doubtingiy: for me, (Startled at times mine equals old to see) My heart is young as ever, fall of mirth And buoyancy, too light and fresh and free For dignities and pompous tricks of earth ; So hath it been till now, — so let it be, — And not grow grave : thrice happy is the man Whose spirit, feeling a Tithonic birth, Xever grows old, rejoices where it can, And cares no more for Time than it is worth. 119 fratol (faptim. Not in self-seeking cloth the Poet draw From his own wells, and analyse his heart ; All men in all men hear a kindred part, All spirits to all spirits are a law: Whatever any mind has seen or felt, That inner secret which in self he saw With genial utterance to his brother dealt Shall quicken him, and make his hardness melt, His passion thrill, his frozen feeling thaw, His solitude to brotherhood aspire: So then, accuse not as of mean design The generous fervour of poetic fire, — ■ Such frankness cheers, such sympathies refine, Such noble thoughts to nobler thoughts inspire. 120 Catariatefr Comfort. Ke collect, as well you may, (You that pine and brood in sorrow) If there's little luck to-day, More is left to come to-morrow; Every present grows to past Almost while the grumbler heeds it; But, for pleasure made to last, Look to where the future feeds it. Coming chances must be more, (Eeason will herself remind us,) And all prizes crowd before If the blanks are all behind us ; Therefore never go downcast, But let cares sit all the lighter, Since a dark and luckless past Argues all the future brighter. 121 f arate* fast Alas for trouble and care and sin, And bitterness, hate and strife ! That the heart grows cold and callous within, As stoned by the hail and stunn'd by the din Of the storm-driven desert of life. Alas! that the world is winning the game, — And — who then is counting the cost? O speed, — for fear, for glory, for shame, Let Satan be baulk'd of his murderous aim, For, the stake is — a soul to be lost ! Where stands Paradise, after the fall? Alas ! it has wither'd away, — The slime of the serpent is over us all, And Nature has veil'd with a funeral-pall Her beautiful face in decay ! 122 €\ttxfKhm. (in dactylic stanzas.) Lover of goodness, and friend to the beautiful, Ever go forth with a smile on thy cheek, KnoAving that God will prosper the dutiful, Gladden the holy, and honour the meek; Ever go on, though fortune be rigorous, Bearing as Providence wisely may will, Strong in good conscience, with energy vigorous, Building up good, and demolishing ill. 123 There is a spirit, that sadly and tearfully Goes to its duties, a slave to its tasks ; There is a spirit that stoutly and cheerfully Toils in the sunshine, and toils as it basks ; Both may he labouring, ripely and readily, Christians and husbandmen tilling the soil, But the one sings, while he labours so steadily, And the sad other sheds tears at his toil. Be of this wiser and better fraternity, Nursing contentedness still in thy breast; So shall thy heart, for time and eternity, Aehe though it must, be for ever at rest: Peace is the portion of hopeful audacity, Routing the worst and securing the best, And the keen vision of Christian sagacity Sees for us all that we all may be blest ! 124 (IN ALCAIC STANZAS.) Bulwark ot Ed gland, God -given Liberty ! Name much malign'd yet noble and glorious, How rarely the masses who claim thee Judge as they ought of the fools that maim thee ! No part hast thou with clamorous demagogues, Red revolution scares thee and scatters thee, And despots have stolen thy standard Only to render thee scorn'd and slander'd : 125 Still to enslave the credulous multitude Is their intent in utter effrontery ; O treason, O shame, and O wonder. That the one tramples the many under ! Man, when his Maker made him and fashion'd him, Man stood as free as Mercy could order it, — Free, saving Eeligion in season, Saving the bridle and bit of Eeason. And when, as now, the Fall and its accidents Drove him from God to human society, Still Eeason, Eeligion, and Frankness Stand as the pruners of Freedom's rankness : Eeason, Eeligion, counsel and sanctify Unto good order governing ministers, And Frankness gives up to his brother Much of his own, for the sake of other. 126 Freeman ! thy neighbour also has liberties ; This may subtract his rights from thy heritage, — But Freedom without moderations Were but the licence of pirate nations. England ! in thee shines Liberty's excellence ; We are as free as serves for humanity, Freespoken, freejudging, freeacting, Nobody spying, and none exacting. We love the Queen, and guard her with loyalty, She loves the People, ruling us faithfully, And those who amongst us are wiser Counsel her, each as a free adviser. Thus we reform whate'er is iniquitous, Thus we remove whatever is obsolete, Yet always resolve to deal fairly Even with those who deserve it rarely: 127 Thus in the light of rational liberty Each of us walks a patriot Englishman — Courageous, but boasting it never; Moderate, honest, and patient ever. And we can love our brethren in slavery, Giving them all, with prodigal sympathy, Our prayers, our blood, our treasure — All we can give without stint or measure : And we can hate the base and tyrannical, Vowing to crush oppression and cruelty — And sharing with peoples and races All Christianity's gifts and graces. England the free is Europe's deliverer, Standing with France, co-warders of Liberty; And Englishmen know how to use it, — Englishmen only will not abuse it ! 128 (m SAPPHIC STANZAS.) Never went man courageously to dangers, Fear and his constant spirit being strangers, But, while he faced his enemies and hew'd them, Soon he subdued them : As he goes onward, perils seem to scatter, Mind ever shows the conqueror of matter ; Even the mountain crags that toppled o'er him Open before him; 129 Even the torrents, riotously wrathful, Are to his footsteps fordable and pathful; Even the prowlers, in the desert roaming, Fly at his coming. O man of faith, of energy, and boldness, — Onward ! in spite of darkness and of coldness, — Forward ! for Conquest with triumphal pleasance Waits for thy presence: Never, on Eight and Providence relying, FaiPd of Success, while duteously trying, He, who resolves and wrestles like a Roman, Yielding to no man ! 130 9m In* What a gloom and what a chill Hang about old hannts of ours, — "Where, at childhood's wayward will, Long ago we gathered flowers ; Where, in youth's romantic prime, Long ago we met and parted, In the olden golden time When we went so eager-hearted ! Ah ! but in those long agoes, With their dreamy dear old places And forgotten joys and woes And their unforgotten faces, How much sorrow ever hides, Leaving what we loved behind us; While how swift our life- dream glides These sad long agoes remind us ! 131 $tt % |)OTgI]t Weep, relentless eye of Nature ! Drop some pity on the soil; Every plant and every creature Droops and faints in dusty toil: Mother earth with bosom burning Craves and pants athirst for rain; Night and day her mighty yearning Heaves to Heaven in silent pain ! k 2 132 0, how gratefully and dearly "Will Creation drink it up, When to all his children cheerly God shall give that happy cup: When the cattle and the flowers Yet shall raise their drooping heads, And, refreshed by precious showers, Lie down joyful in their beds. Graciously then, God the Giver, Send that milk of mercy round, — Let kind Heaven's luscious river Bathe this dry and gaping ground; Melt the furrows with its sluices, — Make our wilted uplands laugh, — And of all Earth's generous juices Now let all her creatures quaff ! 133 fit » jTASt 7%* 2htk of April, 1854. Cruel, cutting, killing frost ! Hope destroy' ol and labour lost, Earth dishearten' d, man dismay'd, Joy extinguish'd, life decay'd ! All the early sprouts cut down, — All the blossoms burnt and brown,- Every green and tender shoot Black and rotted to its root, — ■ 134 Every modest opening leaf Kudely made to pine in grief, — Every bud of promise nipt, And Nature's every feather elipt ! Woe! for April skies were here, Flush'd with warmth and summer eheer,- April sun and April shower Coaxing bud and leaf and flower, Till the very fig had dared To hope in pity to be spared. But, one night, one bitter night, Elasted all with angry spite, — SeaPd the breasts of Nature up, — Froze with hate her loving cup, — Dash'd its honied milk with gall, And in sheer envy ruin'd all ! 135 %)iitin f in %\\%xx%L No hate, no envy; all was right; In mercy came that bitter night, — In mercy shear'd the fruit away, Blasting the blossoms on the spray ; For if, in aftertimes like these Of sore and terrible disease, A heavy crop of luscious fruits Had hung upon those frozen shoots, Doubtless, the reaper Death had reap'd A heavier crop of corpses heap'd ! O Man, — a wiser Head than thine, And kinder than thy thoughts divine, ("While for all weightier things He cares Or watches how a sparrow fares,) In secret wisdom foreordains Even these trifles, — frosts and rains. 136 %m$q gmtfr. All on a happy summer's day When the air is warm and still, And thundery clouds are louring gray Oyer the landscape green and g*ay Around St. Martha's hill, — How pleasant it is, with a cheerful friend Of beautiful Nature fond, Across the fields our ways to wend, And here the calm sweet horns to spend Fishing at Tangley Pond. 137 I love the tapering rod to wield, And cast the sensitive float, Till down it runs with the line outreePd And a fierce old pike, still scorning to yield, Flounders about in the boat : I love the angle, — to watch and wait For the perch so subtle and still, Till deep in his hole he has gorged the bait, And gluttony fixes a tyrant's fate With a good gimp-hook in his gill: I love the quiet,— the lull from care, — The lake, all clear and calm, — The flowering reeds, and the wild fowl there,— The trees asleep in the sultry air, And all things breathing balm. 138 Old Tangley Pond, — niy boyhood's haunt, My manhood's holiday rest, — Let any that will my fondness taunt, And mock while thus thy praise I chaunt, Lull'd on thy tranquil breast. Oh, yes, — there is peace and quietness here If nowhere found beyond; The way one's spirit to soothe and cheer Is — angle awhile, in the prime of the year, At dear old Tangley Pond. 139 mat. How often to lie still is to be wise, — How many times is Patience as a charm That wins a gracious blessing from the skies Eicher than all on Labour's bustling farm, — How often to do more is to do harm ! So, when thy seeds are wedded to the soil, And thou hast well done duty, and the lot Is cast into the lap, consider not How next to make all speed by thought and toil,- But rather wait ; the power of faith is there, — Faith that achieves all conquest, takes all spoil, — Faith, the great reaper of the crop of pray'r ; In faith be still; lest unbelieving care By overstriving all good efforts foil. 140 Once more a silent solitary spot, Chobham, — already those thy glories seem Half-lost to memory, like a fading dream Of martial sights and sounds, which now are not : The tents, array'd so trim, that used to teem With merry humours, all are swept away; Where is the Kifleman, — the kilted Scot, — The helm'd Life-guardsman, — and the Lancer gay? Where are the Guns, that thunder' d thick and hot Galloping furiously through the fray? All, all are gone : and where with stirring tramp The troops defiling proudly wont to pass, Nothing is seen to cheer this rugged swamp But spotted sundews and wild cotton-grass ! 141 $pt\ttii. A day for patriot thoughts of honest pride, A day for praise to Heaven, as is most meet; When England pours upon the peaceful tide Her willing thousands, thronging far and wide Our Ocean- Queen in joyfulness to greet: Lo ! how majestic stands the giant Fleet Eohed in white thunderclouds, that roll away Amid these deafening clamours, to display The black- embattled hulls, and overhead Their taper spars, or glittering canvas spread : While, all around, on this glad holiday, The whitewing'd yachts, like sea-birds, flit about, And crowded steamers, drest in pennons gay, Cheer as they pass, and reel beneath the shout. 142 {St. George's, Doncaster.) O wheck of many good and precious things, O thousand glories shatter'd to the ground ! O Kuin, — where Destruction's fiery wings Have flapp'd, and scorch'd, and ravaged all around ! O Providence, — whose deep determinings No wisdom can defeat, no thought can sound, — Alas ! how shall we well and wisely search The Mind of God in this — a ruin'd church? 143 For lo, the loss ! Religion's beauteous fane, For eight long centuries her holy home, Where sacred story stain' d each pictured pane, And Learning archived many a rare old tome,- Where Gothic sculpture, lofty, pure, and plain, Stood a protesting trophy won from Eome, — All burnt, all blasted ! — Who may read aright The will of Heav'n in this unholy sight? Ye shall discern it, though your eyes be dim, If teachably and humbly still ye search: — God is a spirit ; those who worship Him Make not a mediate idol of His Church; Mounting on eagle wings of cherubim, They linger not to deck the temple-porch, — But serving One whose temple is all space, They seek Him always and in every place ! 144 Yet, must we note the low estate of Man, And help on earth his earthly nature still ; And, it is wise and duteous, where we can, To counteract hy good permitted ill ; And, if we work eternal Mercy's plan, We glorify our God through man's free will ; And He that bade us worship Him aright Said, Make My court and service your delight. Therefore, with energy and zeal discreet, Hasten to raise this holy house again; With decent splendour, as is right and meet, Give God once more His consecrated fane : He waits in grace to bless your willing feet, And those who serve Him, never serve in vain: So bring your offerings, and your alms outpour, And rear St. George for God and Man once more ! 145 got t\t inters* |rame-fim&. Madeira ! fair haven of plenty and health, Where luxury smiles on the vintage of wealth, Where mountain and glen in the midst of the seas Breathe Eden's own halm on the cheek of Disease, Where nature's most beautiful pastoral scene, With rock-built sublimity toppling between, And rural contentment, and music, and mirth, Make thee the bright gem, the oasis of Earth, — Alas, for the change! that a bane and a blight Hath wither'd thy beauty, and darken'd thy light,— Alas! for the tropical breezes that waft The moans of despair from thy death-stricken raft- Alas ! for the sunsets of glory that glow On famishing vineyards and hovels of woe, — Alas ! for the vial of judgment outpour'd Madeira, on thee, from the hand of the Lord ! L 146 Of judgment, — and mercy ! — Our Father and God Not lightly nor gladly afflicts with His rod: And well is He pleased, if His children make speed To comfort the hearts whom He chastens with need; And well is He glorified still in His gifts When affluent bounty the fallen uplifts ! Then hasten, ye Kich, — whom Madeira lang syne Hath often made glad with her generous wine, — And chiefly ye fathers and lovers, sore tried By the fast fading forms of some daughter or bride Whom genial Madeira, by delicate stealth, Hath gently suffused with the roses of health, — O hasten to help her! — speed ye to bless With liberal mercy the sons of distress; For the Land where your memory lingers in pray'r, Is stricken with famine, and death, and despair! 147 intern. Judge not the sensitive : if thou hast blamed, Think how a thousand influences tell, With strong enchantment acting like a spell, Upon that spirit all too finely framed: Antagonisms, and slights, and vulgar things, And all whatever else should make ashamed Of mean or vain, from these as nettle-stings Shrinks back within itself the feeling mind ; What thou hast counted cold fastidious pride Is to warm graces tenderly allied, Indignant wrath with holy pain combined ; And spirit-nerves alike with nerves of sense, To some brute natures worthily denied, In others thrill with energies intense. l 2 148 lapis*. Let me not now ungenerously condemn Those few good deeds on impulse, — half unwise And scarce approved hy reason's colder eyes; I will not blame, nor weakly blush for them: The feelings and the actions then stood right: And if regret for half a moment sighs That worldly wisdom with its keener sight Had order'd matters so and so, my heart Still in its fervour loves a warmer part Than Prudence wots of; while my faithful mind, Heart's husband, also praises her for this; And on our conscience little load I find If sometimes we have help'd another's bliss At some small cost of selfish loss behind. 149 $ J&rojf fat PMIMs. Hurrah for the Rifle !— In days long ago Our fathers were fear'd for the bill and the bow, And Edwards and Harrys in battles of old Were proud of their archers so burly and bold : While Agincourt, Cressy, and Poictiers long since, With great John of Gaunt, and the gallant Black Prince, Tell out from old pages of history still What Englishmen did with the bow and the bill. Hurrah for the Rifle ! — When England requires, She still shall be proud of the sons of our sires; And rifle and bayonet then shall do more Than ever did billhook or longbow of yore; Erom hedgerow and coppice and cottage and farm The foreigner's welcome, God wot! shall be warm, And the crack of the rifle shall hint to the foe How terrible once was the twang of the bow. 150 %\t MWtt €mMfix. Away to the War has the Soldier departed, And with him hoth Husband and Father are gone, — His children, half-orphans, are left broken-hearted, His half- widow' d wife remains weeping alone ! He goes like a Soldier — courageously, cheerly To fight for the Eight at his country's command, But leaves with a pang lest those he loves dearly Should pine, in his absence, for "Want in the land ! 151 when in his dreams those little ones prattle, Let him not wake with the dread on his mind That while he is fighting or dying in battle The mother and babes may be starving behind ! And when at the bivouac stirring the embers He chats with his mates of the deeds of the day, Let him feel glad, as with thanks he remembers That charity blesses his home far away ! A loaf for the day, and a crust for the morrow, And school for his children, and work for his wife, Enough, to be clear of affliction and sorrow And able to stand in the battle of life, — Give this to your Soldier, to comfort and shield him In those who at home are the Wanderer's care, And all that in kindliness Here you may yield him Be sure he'll repay you in gallantry There ! 152 f |[* towras gtag*. Wounded soldiers ! lying weak, Sick, or shot, or gash'd by swords, Listen ! for your Queen doth speak, Hearken to her gracious words ! From her soul of courage calm, Earnestly those words distil, Dropping like a precious balm, Every heart to cheer and thrill. 153 " Tell each wounded man apart, " As they he in ghastly groups, " Tell them how our inmost heart " Feels for our heloved troops : " Noble fellows ! say from us, "No one yearns on such a scene "With more sympathy than thus " Yearns their own admiring Queen. " Tell the men, my wounded sons, " Simple privates in the ranks, " That to those heroic ones, " Queen and Prince have sent their thanks : " Still we think of them in love, " Praying for them day and night, " And our trust is strong ahove, "For such Champions of the Eight." 154 te for t\t €pr« Guilty despot, God -forsaken, And by Judgment overtaken, (Woe, woe to thee, — ) Hypocrite, that didst dissemble, Now in abject terror tremble, Woe, woe to thee ! Hark ! the dogs of war are gather'd, Bear! to bait thee, closely tether'd, (Woe, woe to thee, — ) Even Turkey's angry legions Hunt thee up to thine own regions, Woe, woe to thee ! 155 Meaning mischief, we will do it, Caitiff, — deeply shalt thou rue it, (Woe, woe to thee, — ) North and South our volley' d thunder Shall thy carcase tear in sunder, Woe, woe to thee ! France with tiger-fury hounds thee, England's lion-might surrounds thee, (Woe, woe to thee, — ) Sworn to havoc without pity, Fleets and forts and field and city, Woe, woe to thee ! Not that we would kill the People, But, in sparing street and steeple, (Woe, woe to thee, — ) We will blow each fort and palace To the bourn of Meshech's malice, Woe, woe to thee ! 156 Cronstadt shall be crush' d and batter'd, As Sebastopol is shatter'd, (Woe, woe to thee, — ) Meshech, Kosh, and Tubal — humbled, To destruction shall be crumbled, Woe, woe to thee ! We will raise the ghost of Poland, Thine unlaid and fearful Poeland, (Woe, woe to thee, — ) We will arm the Fins and Tartars, And Siberia's million martyrs, Woe, woe to thee ! Moscow shall be curst as Edom When we give thy serfs their freedom, (Woe, woe to thee, — ) Petersburg shall be as Babel When they find thy strength a fable, Woe, woe to thee ! 157 Think not kingcraft now can spare thee, Nicholas, for doom prepare thee, (Woe, woe to thee, — ) No indulgent statesman's finger Can avert what shall not linger, Woe, woe to thee! O thou tyrant, dread tins hour, When the People in its power (Woe, woe to thee, — ) To the dust shall trample gladly Thee, that durst to rule so madly, Woe, woe to thee! Greatest criminal, that ever Roused mankind their yokes to sever, (Woe, woe to thee, — ) Never more shall peace or slumber Soothe thy moments, few in number, Woe, woe to thee ! 158 Conscience, with such sin to whelm it, Shall be hell in crown and helmet, (Woe, woe to thee, — ) Fear, thy sleepless pillow scaring, Shall bemock thy guilty daring, — "Woe, woe to thee ! All men's strength, in wrath uprisen, Shall stand round thee like a prison, (Woe, woe to thee, — ) All men's wrath shall tread thee under Hated, hoof'd, and torn asunder, Woe, woe to thee ! Dead ! — How sudden was thy sentence, Mercy-past, as past repentance, (Woe, woe to thee, — ) Dead ! — sinner unforgiven, Dragg'd before the bar of Heaven, — Woe, woe to thee ! 159 $0 ftomta figpKpk. If ever saint obey'd the great command, Leave all and follow Me; if ever heart Acted in love the high and holy part Of good Samaritan from land to land, — That praise is thine, Lady! and thou art Truly the crown of Christian womanhood, With tender eye and ministering hand Going about like Jesus doing good Among the sick and dying: what a scene Of wounds and writhing pain and hideous throes For thee to dwell in,— thou martyr- Queen, Calm dove of peace amid war's vulture woes, Soothing their fury by thy looks serene And lulling agony to sweet repose! 160 M. Where will it end? — Demolish what we may Of forts and fleets and hecatombs of lives, Nothing is done, while Tyranny survives A Titan thrown but to renew the fray : Scatheless in hostile victory's proudest day Far off the solitary despot thrives; And, ere we touch him, we must wade knee- deep Through seas of servile but unguilty blood, And, while our cannons to destruction sweep Host after host of that serf-multitude, He in his malachite and golden pride Will neither heed home-woes nor foreign might, But madly wilful thus will hide aside, And watch secure the struggling millions fight. 161 %\t €m,u. One man, — a despot ruthless and insane, Counted a god by his barbarian hordes, One man, whose lustful will was sworn to gain The whole world's throne through their fanatic swords, He, monarch of their wills and deeds and words, Evil, ambitious, pamper'd, proud, and vain, Forced the fierce contest: truly, is this war A war of principles ; for England fights, Champion of freedom, with a tyrant Czar, Protesting manfully for all men's rights Against their bad enslaver: let kings reign As God's chief servants for His people's good ; But, if both God and Man their hearts disdain, They are rejected, — let them be withstood. M 162 Jttfogtfc A righteous retribution, stern and swift, A world-upstirring and portentous thing ! The Lord hath stricken thee, thou wicked King, — Whose mad ambition dared usurp thy gift Of government, to bind upon thy brow An universal crown; who durst uplift Thy power, all laws and liberties to bring Beneath imperial serfdom : yet, as now Dead, — foil'd and scorn'd and shamed, — how mean art thoi O Mother England, let the fostering wing Of Heaven be still thy buckler: other fears And other foes rise dimly on the sight ; For all the friendliness that now appears Stand well on guard, and God defend the right ! 163 Ipnj fax aux |aj uf f rap; 011 Borate flf Mux. O God ! our Refuge and Defence, Most just, and merciful, and strong, By Whose eternal Providence The right is help'd against the wrong, O Lord ! our fathers 9 Friend of old, Their children's only Succour now; In grace forgivingly hehold Thy people who before Thee bow ! Great Judge of all in all the earth, True Source of liberties and laws, Thou seest that we now go forth To combat in a righteous cause: Duty commands our Nation's way Eeluctant to the battle-field, And unto Thee we pray this day To be for us both sword and shield ! m2 164 Truly, we have deserved Thy wrath, — For many sins it were most meet ; Yet, let us never tread the path Of Thy correction in defeat: Forgive, and speed us; for we stand Thy combatants for truth and right; And trust to see Thy guardian hand Advance our standards in the fight ! We ask no glory,- — but to bless, By making wrongful wars to cease ; We seek no conquest, — but success In leading men to live at peace : We trust not in our ships or swords, But in Thy Name, Guard and Guide, Because the battle is the Lord's, — And God is seen on Duty's side ! 165 %ntst\tx* Be gracious, Lobd, to us Who seek Thy face this day, And in the time of trouhle thus To Thee devoutly pray. Forgive all evil past, And grant our Nation grace To live to Thee, and pray, and fast, And run the Christian race. With alms for those in need We come and trust on Thee, That Thou wilt give us power to speed The Eight by land and sea. 166 From those who hate us now All help and safety send; Be Thou our rock, our champion Thou, Our Queen- and-People's Friend ! Unwillingly we draw The just avenging sword, And in the name of Right and Law Implore Thy blessing, Lord ! We strove for peace in vain, And Mesech chose the fight; Therefore, O Thou, by Whom kings reign,- Our God ! Defend the Right. 167 to fattest Jpws FOR MDCCCLIV. Give thanks, happy Nation ! for Mercy rejoices O'er Judgment to triumph and fill us with food : Be glad, O ye People ! and lift up your voices To Him who is ever the Giver of good. What thanks shall we render? — Ah, sinful and earthy, The praises we bring are too few and too cold, — Eedeemer ! make Thou this poor offering worthy, And pour out Thy Spirit on us, as of old. 168 For truly to Thee our fervent desire Would go forth in grateful acknowledgment here; But only Thy heart- stirring grace can inspire The love that is life and that casteth out fear. Ah ! well may we fear Thee, — whose judgments are sounding In thunders of wrath and in trumpets of woe ; And well may we love Thee, — whose mercies abounding In rivers of peace and prosperity flow. Yet let us not boast, like a Dives possessing Garners of wheat with enough and to spare; But humbly and thankfully taking the blessing Praise the good Giver, and seek Him in pray'r ! 169 jtafo f pit Dear heart of old England ! be glad and rejoice For blessed abundance on basket and store, — And raise the thanksgiving with national voice To Him, by whose bounty we live evermore. While Judgment, in pestilence, famine and sword, Might well have rebuked us for folly and sin, Thy Mercy hath triumph'd, and fed us, good Lord ! With plenty and health and contentment within. 170 Too truly, the hurricane thunders of war Are heard in the distance and soon shall increase, But while the storm threatens and rages afar Our dwellings are safe in the blessing of peace : Too truly, the angel of death in the air Is hovering, and scarcely withholdeth his hand, But, King of that Angel ! in pity forbear, Bemember Araunah, and favour the land ! O Nation ! what People beside is so blest ? What People so thankful and holy should be? O Father and Shepherd ! who givest us rest, Thy children and sheep of Thy pasture are we. Then, Praise be to God, for the fruits of the field, This harvest of gold in the lap of the soil, This grateful return Earth hasteth to yield By Heaven's own blessing on dutiful toil ! 3 71 $njjfair& &$takk I do believe it, England ! God hath blest thee With all prosperities of heaven and earth (As man may speak — ) according to thy worth : I do believe, when Duty's power possest thee Unselfishly, yea sadly, to go forth And bind that proud Barbarian of the North, God's love went too, and as His child carest thee: For, all the fears and perils that opprest thee, Behold them scatter 'd in the smile of Heaven ! Foes are made friends ; where famine gauntly glared Plenty and peace and happiness are given ; Even the pestilence hath stopp'd and spared Our chasten'd homes, — though chasten'd not destroyed, And rich in good with thanks to be enjoy 'd ! 172 iMt in ttfBtL Ye Eulers in the Nation, ye Princes of our State, "WTio in your starry orbits shine the Great among the great — A word unto your mightiness, a word for truth and good, That may not lightly be ignored, nor harmlessly with- stood. We are a kindly People, a just and generous Eace, Slow to condemn, but swift to love, and frank in heart and face ; With honest sense of rio'ht and wrono;, and wills to love or hate According to your works and words the Great among the great. 173 We honour Duty in high place, nor less because high- born, — But loathe official insolence, and answer scorn with scorn ; We pay to rank all homage due, — but claim of it in sooth Humility, and courtesy, and kindliness, and truth. To warmth we instantly respond, and render heart for heart, Kejoicing on the weaker side, and in the better part, — But frigid harshness dries us up, and half our generous soul Is frozen by a cold neglect or insolent control ! O Bulers ! meet us heartily, as we would come to you ; We own your individual worth as men both good and true, — But let not Office stand a gulph of icy distance thus (The Queen and People are not so !) between yourselves and us. 174 Quell not our friendliness to you by cold high-breeding's laws, Check not our English ardour in the patriotic cause ; Be gracious, if you must refuse, — but be not too afraid Of graciously accepting those who come to proffer aid. Many there be who offer' d well, but ill were spurn' d away, And many more would, but for such, have help'd from day to day ; But on their generous spirits, like an avalanche of snow Was flung, with dreary due delay, the cold official No ! Be wiser, Eulers ! we have hearts, and you may have them too ; You might keep England if you would right well in tune with you ; But not by distance, not by coldness ; frank and generous ways Alone can win for you from us all honour, love, andpraise ! 175 We thank thee, gracious Neighbour ! we thank thee, glorious France ! We praise the Greatness that made haste to seize that golden chance, The chance of taking vengeance, as of old je swore to do, And well redeem' d at Inkermann, — avenging Waterloo ! this indeed is chivalry, returning good for ill (Though we — ye know it — in those days did only duty still,—) This is the way to be revenged, the noblest and most true, Eeturning Trance's Inkermann for England's Waterloo ! Our gallant guards, not overmatch'd, though barely one to ten, Could fight and die, but could not fly, — were demigods, not men, — 176 From foggy dawn to noon they fought that furious Eussian crew, Till France avenged at Inkermann her rival's Waterloo ! Avenged! — in coarse and common hate? by planting blow for blow? Avenged ! — in humbling Englishmen ? — No ! grateful England, No ! They heap'd the coals of vengeance as only Christians can, And for our old-time Waterloo they gave us Inkermann ! So then, O brothers reconciled for ever and a day, We own that you have conquer 'd us, and in the grandest way ; Our patriot fathers made you bleed at Waterloo's red van, But you more nobly bled for us, their sons, at Inkermann ! Yes ! this is glory, this is conquest, this is fame indeed ; For you henceforth Old England's heart is vow'd to fight and bleed, — Not front to front, like Waterloo, — but on the better plan Of side by side, as when you bled for us at Inkermann ! %\t p» irte. Enough, enough of honours pour'd profusely on the Great ; Enough of stars and titles for the menials of the State ; A hetter brighter honour now must English heralds find, An Order for the holy heart and for the mighty mind ! Our worthies lack a kindly smile for social good well-done, A smile from Britain's gracious Queen on each best British son, — Appreciation's blessed badge, so precious in their eyes, Sufficing patient merit with its spiritual prize. Our worthies,— what a brilliant band ! not even friendly France To make her Legion of the Good had such a noble chance ; Our worthies, — need we name their names, — who live in lip and pen, Who live upon the nation's heart, and in the mouths of men? O Queen, who also livest there, regard them in thy love ! Eeward them as the type of Him who reigneth from above, — Let honour issuing from the throne on excellence descend, And make true worth in every rank thy helper and thy friend ! Look up and clown the land, Queen! — there is no lack of good So that thou seek it not in men of place-and-party brood ; Look up and down the land and search for goodness everywhere, And where thou findest honest merit,— give thine honours there ! 179 Shed forth encouragement for good, and comfort sterling worth In manhood, and in womanhood, in all the salt of earth, — In those who for themselves have earn'd a right to honour's place, Nor only owe to nobler sires the titles some disgrace. Open the ranks ; let in the best, the worthiest of the land, Who, though unhackney'd in debate, are pure in heart and hand ! Open the ranks ! no longer let an oligarchy rule, — Lest under their disloyal sway the Nation's love grow cool ! Open the ranks ! the People, thy true People, gracious Queen ! Are ever ranged on Order's side, and found in Duty's scene ; Let Honour then on such from Thee in copious torrent flow, And Gob will bless Thee from above, as Man shall bless below ! n2 180 % Ws to €tttm\t That I have loved my Saviour as I ought, I dare not say; but I can call Him Lord, The man Christ Jesus and the God the Word, — And worship Him in will and deed and thought With my poor best and truest; where He leads (As from mine infant years I have been taught) Thither I follow through the crowd of creeds, And have not swerved nor changed: without His power I cannot stand, could not have stood, one hour; But, with His help, I yet shall go straight on Believing, and obeying, doing good, Truthtelling, yet intolerant to none, Giving both God and man my gratitude For all I have or hope, through Christ the Son. 181 Ws$ §sn §te. O spirits made perfect ! How dear will ye be In the bright happy world, where affections are free, Unfetter'd from all the heart-slavery here, Unwarp'd by the world in its love or its fear, Uncheck'd in their impulses — misunderstood, UnchilPd in their warmth, and all glowing for good. glorious and glad ! when in fulness and power The soul shall expand like an amaranth flower, And open her beauties for every eye, And shed out her fragrance on all that come nigh, And freely fly forth on the wings of a dove, And float in a rapture of purified love ! 182 — There, soon in the garments of praise shall I see The spirits that here have been dearest to me, Those beautiful darlings, by memory shrined In the roots of the heart and the stem of the mind, On the magical leaves of affection imprest And burst into blossom, as spirits made blest ! How happy hereafter in union most sweet Such cherish' d and glorified dear ones to meet ! And here, to look forward to those gone before In the joy and the hope of such meeting once more ! And now, to look upward and feel without fear That these are His messengers helping us here ! 183 Jt. €. I. My pretty one beneath the sod, My pretty one beyond the sky, My darling gone to be with God, And nevermore to moan or die, — My Alice ! fast asleep in flowers Beneath the shadow of the Cross, How blest is such a loss as ours When thou art gainer by that loss ! 184 Beside the now deserted nave Of dear old ivied Albury Church, Beside our own ancestral grave, Beside the desecrated porch, — Our pretty darling lies beneath Her matted quilt of flow'rets fan, And at her head, as blessing death, The cross of Jesus watches there. Sweet spirit, pure and meek and mild, O patient martyr gone to bliss, I love thee, my most precious child, Too deeply to repine at this : I long indeed to see those eyes, And kiss, then beauty o'er and o'er, But oh! I see thee in the skies, And there shall kiss them evermore. 185 JUfa^telp. Beautiful Alice, serene little saint, My treasure! — O better than mine, — What mind can imagine, or eloquence paint Thy gladness and glory divine? A bright happy spirit, made perfect and free, On whom The Good Jesus hath smiled, This ecstasy now hath beatified thee, My blessed and beautiful child ! 186 Ah ! fairest, and purest, and dearest of all, Sweet babe of two years and a half, How painful a pleasure it is to recal The ring of thy once merry laugh; How touching to dream of that loved little face With its martyr- expression of pain, And the tender blue eyes, where angelical grace Shone patiently smiling again ! What vision was ever more piteous than this, — To watch her, so wan and so weak, With white little hands reaching up for a kiss When faint and unable to speak ; What memory ever so joyous, — that oft Those dear little hands she would raise, So tremblingly feeble, so small and so soft, In prayer and the music of praise ! 187 Death, what a loveliness holy and calm, All silently solemnly sweet, Invested with bliss and anointed with balm My babe from her face to her feet! The silken -fringed eyelashes slept on her cheek, And her mouth was a rosebud half-blown, And her fingers were folded so prayerfully meek, And her foot was a lily in stone ! In an ark snowy -white with its silvery sheen, And scattered with flow'rets of spring, Deep under the turf all mossy and green, We have left thee, thou dear little thing ! In hope, though in grief, — in affection and prayer, Assured of the soon coming hour "When that precious root, buried tearfully there, Shall shoot up again as a flower ! 188 With hyacinth bulbs we have yearningly traced In her garden her musical name, And know that wherever each bulb hath been placed It surely shall blossom the same; So thou, hidden rootlet of life and of light, Though seeming to moulder away, Shalt break away bright from the prison of Night To bloom for Eternity's day ! My glorified Alice! look joyously down Wherever in spirit thou art, And suffer the gleam of thy wings and thy crown To gladden the eyes of my heart ! Those thin picking fingers, at rest from all pain, Stretch forth from the skies for a kiss, — That faltering tongue, let me hear it again, " P'aying p'ayers," as a spirit in bliss ! 189 My beauty ! my darling ! my precious ! my prize ! My cherub, my saint, and my sweet ! My child that hast won the bright goal of the skies, My herald in heaven to meet ! O thanks be to God, that his bountiful love To me the glad blessing hath given, My babe — to be heir of His glory above, My daughter — His daughter in Heaven ! 190 I & %. Alas ! how little have I known thee, Brother, How lightly prized the riches of thy worth ; How seldom sought thee out to cherish thee, And sun my spirit in thy light of love ! How have I let the world and all its ways, Ahsence and distance, cares and interests, The many poor excuses that we make For lax communion with a brother's heart, — How have I stood aside, and left such tares To grow up rank, and choke the precious seed ! How have I let such fogbanks of reserve, Such idle clouds of undesign'd neglect Hide from my spirit thy most lovely light ! 191 — Alas ! — too late : — but that we meet again, — "Where spirits are made perfect; and shall glow With happier fervour in each other's joy ; For this our introductory world doth lead To one where all is open, heart with heart Commingling intimately as flame with flame : Oh, not too late, dear Brother ! for my soul Was ever yearning secretly on thee ; W^as ever full of thoughts unshown, unspoken, That from the censer of affection rose In ceaseless love for thee, my gentle Brother ! For, if an angel ever walk'd this earth In blessed ministration of all good, In meekness, patience, purity and truth, In self-denying, and self-sacrificing, In holiness and cheerfulness of life, And all things else of beautiful and kind, — Alas ! we little heeded all thy worth Till we had lost this angel unawares ; 192 ilitttas. O pitiful ! to watch those precious eyes, Those kindled diamonds with their sunny light, Changing from orbs of day to orbs of night, — Dimming to pearls ! — for Providence most wise So hath decreed of thee, my poor pale child; And we shall see thy face, so soft and mild, Looking up blank and sightless to the skies ! Well, — we will love thee more, and be more kind, Cheer thee in heart, and cherish thee in mind; And gentle music shall delight thee much, And Memory with her pictures, — and Content, — And, — who can tell ? for we have heard of such, — Art yet may reach thee with her healing touch, And bring those eyes agahi from banishment. 193 fw t|e &\m\. The Church ? — how gladly would I hear the Church : I long to love and honour and obey, And truly to he guided in the way, And comforted and counselled in my search : But where — where is She ? who shall strike the truth Between opposing factions, priest and lay, The one, to Rome perverting half our youth, The other leading liberally astray? Is She indeed embalm'd in magic rite, And sacramental miracle forsooth, Resurgent from that mediaeval night? Nor rather living still, and to he found, "With secret ministration shedding light, In men of every race and sect around ? o 194 #it a C|ito tofto Metr at §n% i. Born, but to die ! — happier lot than ours, Born to do battle in this world of strife With cares and wrongs and wants and woes of life, Guilt that o'erclouds and Evil that o'erpowers Our threescore years and ten with sorrows rife: Born, but to die ! favour' d little one, So soon and easily to overleap Sin's moat, drawn black all round us broad and deep, And in the glory of a brighter sun To spring at once to Eden's greenest bowers ! Yes, happy innocent, thy goal is won Without one effort but that waking sleep, Winning the race though scarcely well begun, And ripe for bliss though never taught to weep ! 195 II. Not blest ? not saved ? Who dares to doubt all well With holy Innocence, a Christian seed? Presumptuous priest, — I scorn thy bigot creed, And tell thee, — truer than the Fathers tell, — That babes new-born are Jesu's lambs indeed ! Thou teachest, that, as if by magic force, A rite, a formula, redeems from hell, — I A drop of water saving as of course, — And this unspilt, no Grace ! — heathen spell, Home's heresy ! — there is a surer source Of baptism for the soul than thou canst give, And Christian parents dip their children there Unborn, or born, to die, as well as live, In Heaven's own font of faith and hopeful pray'r. 196 Mmtelialter's ppl Cljilta* How pleasantly from out tlieir arches golden These faces smile on me ; how kindly they By beauteous love my loyalty embolden, And round my heart- springs like a sunbeam play, And with sweet voices to my spirit say Up ! our true knight, — as in the tourneys olden, — Stand thou for us against all evil tongues ! In truth, O Eoyal Children of my Queen, My spirit vows, I will ! — 'twas ever seen In this poor world that calumnies and wrongs Afflict the highest ; it hath sometimes been A mouse may save the lion from a snare ; So, may my true devotion help to spare From any grief these gracious looks serene. 197 §mlm bfftmltr: a MM, Durham, — I well appreciate thy thought, This pleading epic huilded up of clay, This new-created clod, so cold and gray Yet so mindsodden and with feeling fraught, To exquisite perfection slowly wrought By thy true zeal through many a night and day : Still must it he as it hath ever been, Genius is hound; his eagle wings are caught In that old serpent's coil ; his hands are seen Powerless at his side; his glances keen Proclaim a quiet holy baffled strength, — No vulgar struggle with constraining fate, ~No concentrated wilfulness of hate, But calm resolve to soar aloft at length. 198 %\t pris $a%ring. Once more in the tourney of Science and Art Our chivalrous millions contend ; Keady and Trilling with head and with heart To do what we can on Humanity's part As neighbour, and brother, and friend. For Commerce and Freedom and Truth to advance, For growth of the good and the wise, — In generous rivalry breaking a lance We go to be guests of magnanimous France, And tilt for Utility's prize. 199 In generous rivalry, — seeing we must, — Our armies have gone to the war, To trample Ambition's brute force to the dust, And succour the weak in the cause that is just, And break the proud strength of the Czar. In generous rivalry now, side by side, We conquer by land and by sea, From Aland to Alma as brothers allied We fight and we bleed, — we have triumphed and died- Together, to set the world free ! And in the like kindliness, here in the West As there in the storm-driven East, We bring for each other the first and the best. And spread — that the world may be better'd and blest- Our great international feast. 200 Give glory to God for such hearty goodwill. Uniting traditional foes, — That both our ambitions are satisfied still With conquests of science and triumphs of skill And trophies unpurchased by woes. How happily better than days that are past When trophies were bought by the sword,- When victories rode on the hurricane blast, And enmities threaten'd for ever to last, And neighbour his neighbour abhorrd ! Yes ! well to be cherish'd, O brothers and friends, Is such an alliance as this, — Where each in forgiveness sincerely extends The right hand of fellowship, making amends, And pays for a blow with a kiss. 201 $0 i\t |fatimu V Bewabe of mere delusive eloquence, — Your hackney'cl clever talkers, who can make Evil seem good for place and party sake, Well skill'd in dialectic thrust and fence ; Let common honesty and common sense Come to thy council hoard; no longer take For statesmen some few scornful consulars The scions of great families, — for such Less love the People's friendship than the Czar's, Doting on courts and dynasties too much For England's honour in these latter wars : Extinguish all those wranglers of dehate Corrupt with family feuds and party jars, And choose the Good and Wise to serve the State. 202 ittttfeSSt. If only merit ever should prevail, And birth and riches take then 1 lower seat, (Unless deserving too, as is most meet) If ever zeal and prowess should not fail Of honour, and promotion, and command, They ought to help the Soldier: in his hand The country's welfare, glory, and defence Bound up like fasces round the Colours stand: But outraging both right and common sense, Merit with us is nothing; money, friends, And years, produce our chieftains rich and old; While the poor gentleman, whom England sends To guard the right amid Crimean cold, Is crush'd beneath the mammon he defends. 203 Caste. Would that a spirit kindlier and less cold, More brotherly, more equal, could be seen Those members of one family between, Our troops and their commanders ! — All are bold, All heroes in the field; but hard routine Too strongly separate makes all beside, By dint of fashion, luxury, and pride: O shame, to knit the brow and blanch the cheek ! The fierce-lipp'd major, rich and well-allied, And pamper'd up for pleasures at his mess, To these poor privates hardly deigns to speak And has no heart to cheer them in distress : — ■ Haste, nobler natures, — those old barriers break, And gladden comrades by new kindliness ! 204 Hclu Statesmen. We want the Good; the men of just intent, Lovers of right who will not wink at wrong, Men of high principle and purpose strong, On Duty and the common welfare hent ; We want no longer, — we have had too long — The Siren-talkers false and eloquent, Mighty in word, but paralysed in deed ; Too long the mere adventurers, whose aim Is self- advancement from their country's need; O party gamesters, hide yourselves for shame ! England calls out for Patriots good and true, — What if plebeian, so they save the State Men to diplomacy and office new, Pure-hearted, and unhackney'd in debate. 205 %\t Jflttfj §al%. A mindful man, but hearted like a child, Lived near my dwelling : he was frank and glad. Though many sorrows might have made him sad, But, to say sooth, his cheerfulness beguiled The way of life so well, that trouble's power Was half unheeded, like a passing shower: Still as he went he sang, hoping the best, And restless energy claim'cl every hour, And with a buoyant spirit he was blest : One day we rode together on the grass, Talking of bygone years and all the rest So look'd for and so swiftly seen to pass, When, as my gloomier spirit sigh'd Alas ! Thus to his pony's gallop keeping time His heart exulting pour'd itself in rhyme : — 206 Huzzah, — huzzah ! For so much thrown behind my back, And so many patches of light on my track, And so much done, and so much won, And life's race hitherto honestly run, For honour, and hope, and enough, and to spare, And perfect Providence everywhere, For peace and pleasure by nights and days, Huzzah ! give God the praise ! Huzzah for the past, whatever betide; Huzzah! in piety, not in pride: Grateful and glad may the spirit be seen, And humble at heart, though triumphant in mien, While Sincerity sings right out Where Vanity lying would darken with doubt,- — For happiness, honour, and help always, Huzzah! give G-qd the praise! 20/ Yes, — for friends on every shore, Loving and blessing us more and more, — Yes, — for a sowing in every clime, To bud and to bear to the end of time, — Yes, — for a reaping rare and good, A heavenly harvest of angels' food, Mercies, comforts, pardoning love, And grace upon earth, and glory above, friend ! with me our chorus raise, Huzzah ! give God the praise ! 0EH AOSA. R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET BtLl ** The Fourth Edition of Ballads for the Times, and Re- issues of other Publications in Prose and Poetry, by the same Author, are to be had of Messrs. Hall, Virtue & Co. 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