UC-NRLF 
 
 157 SDfi 
 
 3HUDDLAN 
 CASTL 
 
 
!BBRK!LiY 
 .IBRARY 
 INIVER5ITY OP 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 
RHUDDLAN CASTLE, 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
RHUDDLAN CASTLE, 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. FRED. W. KITTERMASTER, M.A 
 
 (RHOWYNEDD. ) 
 
 Cabentrgt : 
 
 CURTIS & BEAMISH, PRINTERS AND PUBLISHERS. 
 1890. 
 
LOAN STACK 
 
TO MY CHILDREN, 
 
 IN LOVING AND UNFADING MEMORY OF 
 A TRUE AND DEVOTED 
 
 MOTHER, 
 
 THE LIGHT AND JOY OF THEIR HOME, 
 UNTIL GOD, IN HIS OWN TIME, 
 
 TOOK HER TO HIMSELF, 
 
 THESE POEMS, PRINTED FOR THEM, ARE, 
 
 WITH MUCH AFFECTION, 
 
 DEDICATED, 
 MAY 19, 1890. 
 
 530 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 RHUDDLAN CASTLE, A PRIZE POEM ... ... ... i 
 
 NAAMAN THE SYRIAN ... 20 
 
 BIRTHDAY LINES FOR ROSE ... ... ... 24 
 
 SPRING MEMORIES ... ... ... ... 26 
 
 TO MR. AND MRS. DARLINGTON ... ... ... 28 
 
 KILLARNEY BOAT SONG 34 
 
 TO ROSE ... ... ... ... ... ... 36 
 
 OCTOBER VERSES, BETTWS-Y-COED 39 
 
 A FRAGMENT ... ... ... ... ... 44 
 
 ASCENT OF SNOWDON ... ... ... ... 45 
 
 PLAS HEN WEDDING 5 
 
 TO ROSE 63 
 
 IN MEMORIAM 
 
 To RHO ... ... ... ... ... ... 66 
 
 To MOTHER ... ... ... ... ... 68 
 
 MOTHER'S BIRTHDAY, 1878 ... ... ... 69 
 
 MOTHER'S BIRTHDAY, 1879 ... ... ... 70 
 
 MOTHER'S BIRTHDAY, 1880 ... ... ... 71 
 
 To MOTHER ... ... ... ... ... 72 
 
Vlll. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 IN MEMORIAM (continued) 
 
 To MOTHER, 1883 ... ... ... ... 73 
 
 To MOTHER, 1884 ... ... ... ... 77 
 
 To RHO ... ... ... ... ... ... 78 
 
 NOT DEATH, BUT SLEEP 79 
 
 CRUX MIHI ANCHORA 81 
 
 THE WAY OF LIFE 83 
 
 NEW YEAR 84 
 
 ADVENT 85 
 
 CHRISTMAS ... ... ... ... ... ... 88 
 
 THE EPIPHANY 90 
 
 THE CRUCIFIXION 94 
 
 EASTER DAY 96 
 
 ASCENSION 98 
 
 THE GATE OF LIFE 100 
 
 GOD'S WORD WRITTEN 103 
 
 THE SABBATH 104 
 
 EVERLASTING LOVE 105 
 
 INSTITUTION OF NEW VICAR 106 
 
 HYMN FOR OPENING NEW SCHOOL 108 
 
 MORNING ... ... ... ... ... 109 
 
 EVENING in 
 
 PRAISE 112 
 
Rhuddlan Casfle. 
 
 A Poem which obtained the First Prize for English Verse at 
 Rhuddlan Royal Eisteddfod, 1850. 
 
 " His wandering step, 
 Obedient to high thoughts, had visited 
 The awful ruins of the days of old." 
 
 Shelley. 
 
 " 'Tis but a remnant of the wreck of years." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 IT USH'D is the lyre that woke of yore 
 
 The swell of song from shore to shore ; 
 Cold is the hand that touched the string 
 And still the voice once wont to sing. 
 By Conway's stream from Snowdon's brow 
 No hallow'd strain is floating now, 
 The muse is lost, or gone ; 
 Where erst the deepest theme was poured, 
 Where erst the God inspired adored, 
 Now silence reigns alone. 
 The tyrant's law has swept away 
 With cruel hand and ruthless sway 
 The Bard and bardic skill. 
 
Well knew the tyrant that the breast 
 
 Where freedom reigned would never rest 
 
 While strangers o'er his native land 
 
 With haughty threat and proud command 
 
 Ruled with a lawless will. 
 
 He knew the Bard's loved theme too well, 
 
 Its mighty power, its mystic swell. 
 
 He feared the hand and voice whose strain 
 
 Could wake brave deeds to life again, 
 
 And bear the soul along ; 
 
 So cruel went the stern decree 
 
 To quench the flame that would be free, 
 
 And hush the bardic song. 
 
 Alas, that it has passed away ! 
 
 I would the lyre were mine, 
 
 Of lu Taliesin," or the lay 
 
 Less gifted, yet Divine, 
 
 Since I would noble deeds rehearse, 
 
 And weave a song in simple verse. 
 
 For as from Rhuddlan's Castle steep 
 
 I watched the setting sun 
 
 Gild gloriously the distant deep, 
 
 His journey almost done ; 
 
 And on the mountains far and wide, 
 
 From Snowdon's range to Dyserth's side, 
 
 Saw golden lightnings run ; 
 
And Clwyd's Vale grow dim as night 
 
 Spread silently her gems so bright ; 
 
 A vision of old time came by 
 
 On pinions free and fast, 
 
 And for a moment let the eye 
 
 Gaze on the vanished past ; 
 
 The past which from the memory fades, 
 
 And hides itself in darkest shades. 
 
 Wild breaks the scene ! huge mountains rise 
 Whose snow-clad summits kiss the skies. 
 Dread winter's gloom and clouds are spread 
 On lofty peak and chasm dread. 
 Mad swollen torrents downward leap, 
 And raging floods the valleys sweep ; 
 While ^dan holds his wrested power 
 Securely in his guarded tower. 
 But spring comes on with light and song, 
 Which revels those wild hills among, 
 With fresh'ning breath and opening bloom, 
 That laughs away cold winter's gloom, 
 And hastening on through dell and range 
 Throws over Nature's face a change. 
 
 Wake, Midan, for thy short repose 
 Is broken by advancing foes ! 
 
Castle. 
 
 With Nature's change a change will come 
 
 In thy securely-guarded home. 
 
 Whence is that swelling sound from far 
 
 The clash of arms the shout of war ? 
 
 From southern climes, from southern shores, 
 
 A mighty host its numbers pours 
 
 The northern hills among. 
 
 A Prince renowned for warlike deeds, 
 
 From Rhoderic sprung, 3 Llewelyn leads 
 
 This troop as tempest strong. 
 
 Wake, ^Edan ! ere it be too late ; 
 
 Check if thou canst thy adverse fate, 
 
 Make all thy strongholds stronger still, 
 
 Seize every pass, crown every hill, 
 
 Draw out thy troops in skilled array, 
 
 The strife is for thy crown to-day. 
 
 'Tis past ! the shout, the battle's sound, 
 
 The rush the cry of pain. 
 
 Pale ^Edan and his sons are found 
 
 Among the mangled slain. 
 
 Llewelyn's banner waves on high, 
 
 All proudly 'gainst a cloudless sky, 
 
 Till sets the sun, as suns will set, 
 
 And glories pass away : 
 
 Till night makes silent the regret 
 
Casttlc. 
 
 And triumph of the day ; 
 
 And comes in mournful garb to spread 
 
 Her mantle o'er the ghastly dead. 
 
 Now peace returns, and with it brings 
 Llewelyn to the throne of kings, 
 Reared and made firm in days of old 
 By princes wise and warriors bold : 
 Whereon through ages reigned in state 
 The good, the noble, brave and great. 
 In quick succession comes each name 
 Emblazoned on the roll of fame ; 
 Renewed for deeds by minstrels sung, 
 From Royal Trojan 4 Brutus sprung. 
 And now the brave Llewelyn wields 
 This sceptre won on battle fields. 
 And wields it wisely plenty there 
 And prosperous times the people share. 
 
 Such the far age when Rhuddlan saw 
 Her noble castle rise ! 
 To keep the plains around in awe, 
 And towering towards the skies, 
 Frown on the hostile bands from far 
 To check them in the path of war. 
 No want of zeal no dull delay 
 
i)irtrtrtan Cattle. 
 
 Holds back the work begun, 
 United they wear out the day, 
 Nor rest till all is done ; 
 Advancing the huge towers are seen, 
 The massive walls creep up between, 
 And zeal untired the fabric rears 
 Till threatening o'er the plains 
 The finished Castle's form appears 
 Where Prince Llewelyn reigns. 
 
 'Tis all complete, and peace succeeds, 
 
 And blessings spread around ; 
 
 No army for its country bleeds, 
 
 No slaughter stains the ground. 
 
 Full plenty with a bounteous hand 
 
 Spreads joy and hope throughout the land, 
 
 And summers come and summers fly, 
 
 And no dark cloud pollutes the sky, 
 
 Till 5 Meyrick spreads a gloom ; 
 
 Brief as the shade of April day 
 
 It comes, but quickly flies away, 
 
 For Meyrick meets his doom. 
 
 With flashing blade and deadly blow 
 
 The brave Llewelyn lays him low. 
 
 The traitor's hopes the traitor's breath, 
 
 Are buried in the sleep of death. 
 
Sftfctrtflrtan Cattle. 
 
 Fair Rhuddlan Castle's halls are bright, 
 
 For revelry is there ; 
 
 Llewelyn gives a feast to-night 
 
 To noble, brave and fair. 
 
 A banquet sumptuously is spread 
 
 With choicest fruits the wine is red, 
 
 The guests are there ; each beaming eye 
 
 Grows brighter with the revelry ; 
 
 Gladness and joyous laughter sound, 
 
 The pledging cup goes quickly round, 
 
 As they the night prolong. 
 
 But why that hush ? that sudden fall 
 
 Of mirth ? what echoes through the hall ? 
 
 Hark ! 'tis the swell of song ! 
 
 The Bard has struck the sacred lyre, 
 
 The Bard awaits poetic fire 
 
 To breathe in numbers strong. 
 
 What does he sing in lofty strain ? 
 
 Of 6 Rhun defeated, or the slain, 
 
 The noble and the brave that lie 
 
 With stiffened form and dim set eye, 
 
 Upon the battlefield ; 
 
 Of rare exploits and deeds that gave 
 
 New honours to the conquering brave 
 
 Who know not how to yield ? 
 
 He sings of brave Llewelyn's deeds ; 
 
Casrtlr. 
 
 He sings of love and fame ; 
 The all-attentive ear he feeds, 
 And fans the lighted flame. 
 Absorbed, each arm renews its might, 
 Each foot stands firm in bloody fight, 
 No maiden pleads in vain ; 
 Ere long she must in safety be, 
 The wrong avenged, the captive free, 
 Or they among the slain. 
 They dream of battle, love, renown, 
 Of fame's deep voice, of glory's crown ; 
 Nor think they of the coming day 
 The Bard has borne the soul away. 
 
 Llewelyn's reign has passed away : 
 
 The traitor laid him low ; 
 
 Ambition showed the bloody way, 
 
 While envy struck the blow. 
 
 Why, Rhuddlan, does another now 
 
 Rule thy proud towers ? thy vassals bow 
 
 Not to thy founder's son, 
 
 Nor to the traitor, who would gain 
 
 By bloody deeds a throne, and reign 
 
 O'er lands so foully won. 
 
 Where sleeps the spirit of the sire ? 
 
 Where slumbers brave Llewelyn's fire, 
 
IMjtrtrtilan 
 
 That mighty deeds has done ? 
 
 It wakes, for 7 Grufydd feels the flame. 
 
 In warrior's garb he comes to claim 
 
 His noble father's throne. 
 
 King Edwal's son fears not the strife, 
 
 But seeks the battle plain 
 
 He yields the sceptre with his life 
 
 And lies among the slain. 
 
 How shall I sing thy festive halls 
 
 In GryrTyth's reign all bright ; 
 
 "What time oft rung the echoing walls 
 
 With praises of his might ? 
 
 When Dane and Saxon routed fled, 
 
 And Severn's banks were strewn with dead ? 
 
 When 8 Howel bid the fight farewell, 
 
 And Edwyn bravely fighting fell ? 
 
 When from each field the conqueror came 
 
 With added spoils with added fame ? 
 
 Then were thy halls all bright and gay, 
 
 Then gladly passed the joyous day 
 
 With happiness and song. 
 
 Passed quickly by ! Too soon, alas ! 
 
 Our joyous days and pleasures pass 
 
 We seldom hold them long. 
 
 So have I seen the sunset fade 
 
10 &$uttrtan Casttlc. 
 
 From living light to purple shade. 
 So have I seen that blaze of light 
 Along the western sky 
 So full, so glorious in its might, 
 It seemed too bright to die 
 Grow dim as spread the dusky night 
 Her sable plumes on high. 
 
 There spreads a rumour that the foe 
 
 With hostile purpose come 
 
 To lay proud Rhuddlan's Castle low, 
 
 And seize the King at home. 
 
 Fly 9 Grufydd ! for thy safety fly ! 
 
 Brave Harold and his troops are nigh ; 
 
 Thou canst not stem his gath'ring might : 
 
 Thy safety lies alone in flight. 
 
 'Tis wisely done ! The favouring breeze 
 
 Shall bear thee from thy foes ; 
 
 Look not behind across the seas 
 
 Upon thy country's woes. 
 
 Fair Rhuddlan's towers are wreathed in flame ! 
 
 The conqueror in his fury came 
 
 To seize with vengeful hand 
 
 His rival chief; but finds thy halls 
 
 Kingless and lone ; so vengeance falls 
 
 On thy devoted land. 
 
11 
 
 Take the glad wreath from off thy brow, 
 Thy castle is dismantled now. 
 
 Mourn Rhuddlan, o'er thy humbled pride, 
 
 Thy Castle overthrown ! 
 
 The fire has scorched its bulky side, 
 
 And rent the massive stone. 
 
 Its lofty turrets strew the ground, 
 
 Its haughty towers are scattered round ; 
 
 Low in the dust its strength is laid, 
 
 Its glories in the distance fade, 
 
 The conqueror boasts his power ; 
 
 No friendly hand can help afford ; 
 
 No rumour of thy absent Lord 
 
 To succour in this hour. 
 
 Oh ! for Llewelyn's sword to-day 
 
 To aid thy cause the wreck to stay ! 
 
 Thy honour to redeem, and smite 
 
 The smiter with the sword of might ! 
 
 But this no more is thine ! 
 
 To royal 10 Edwyn's valiant son, 
 
 Renowned in fight for glories won, 
 
 Thou must thyself resign 
 
 Time flies ! again thy turrets rise, 
 Thy threatening form the foe defies, 
 
12 
 
 Thy finished towers are seen from far 
 
 A safe retreat in pressing war, 
 
 Too safe to let them rest. 
 
 The Norman 10 William fears thy might, 
 
 A fortress strong in bloody fight, 
 
 A home for the distrest. 
 
 The mandate comes ; thou must resign 
 
 All that by gentle right is thine ; 
 
 For gentle right and justice fail 
 
 Where Norman laws and might prevail ; 
 
 The conqueror needs thy aid 
 
 To strengthen his yet doubtful cause, 
 
 To stablish those unwelcome laws 
 
 By stern invaders made ; 
 
 And Norman zeal and Norman skill 
 
 Make strong thy towers 'gainst coming ill. 
 
 Who breaks the gentle peace that reigns ? 
 
 Who troubles now the State ? 
 
 Who shakes with troops the yielding plains 
 
 And thunders at thy gates ? 
 
 'Tis David valiant Gwynedd's son 
 
 Who with a chosen band 
 
 Comes to avenge foul deeds oft done, 
 
 And free his father-land : 
 
 To bid the savage conqueror fly, 
 
13 
 
 Or yield before his might and die. 
 
 'Tis vain ! "King Henry fears the blow, 
 
 And brings his succours to the foe ; 
 
 Checks David's zeal and purpose dire, 
 
 And makes him to the hills retire. 
 
 Drives far thy fear and brings relief, 
 
 And with it gladness ; but how brief, 
 
 How soon shall cease thy song ! 
 
 From Berwyn's heights the king has fled, 
 
 Unchecked around thy castle spread 
 
 New forces ten-fold strong. 
 
 There 12 Owen Gwynedd's banner flies, 
 
 The North to represent ; 
 
 There Southern Rhys his aid supplies, 
 
 On deeds heroic bent ; 
 
 And Madoc's sons, and Owen brave 
 
 That princely Powis sends 
 
 To seek for glory or a grave, 
 
 That to such glory tends : 
 
 These bid thee yield, who can withstand 
 
 The brave who for their own loved land 
 
 Will conquer, or will die ? 
 
 No Norman power, no fortress strong 
 
 Can hold itself in safety long, 
 
 Nor such a host defy. 
 
 Fierce was the siege that cast thee down ; 
 
14 iiljtrtrtJlau Casftle. 
 
 But that has passed away. 
 
 Dismantled towers no longer frown 
 
 On wreck and slow decay. 
 
 Restored the free reign in thy halls, 
 
 The Bard awakes the strain ; 
 
 The fate of battle-fields recalls, 
 
 And mirth is thine again. 
 
 With rapid wing years hasten on, 
 
 Joy chases gloom, then both are gone. 
 
 And summers come and summers fly, 
 
 New hopes and fears spring up and die. 
 
 Now "Baldwin bids the nation rise 
 
 To fight the Christian's foe ; 
 
 Peace, home and all to sacrifice 
 
 Through foreign lands to go, 
 
 And raise the standard of the Cross, 
 
 And there redeem the Christian's loss. 
 
 Now "Chester's Earl defends thy walls 
 
 And keeps the foe at bay; 
 
 Now fierce 15 Llewelyn on thee calls 
 
 To yield before his sway. 
 
 His power will make resistance vain, 
 
 The summons must be heard ; 
 
 Admit him to thy halls to reign, 
 
 Obey the conqueror's word. 
 
 Wake, Cambria ! heard ye not the sound ! 
 
15 
 
 The royal mandate flies 
 
 With swift untiring wing around 
 
 For troops and fresh supplies. 
 
 The haughty 16 Edward vengeance swears ; 
 
 A mighty host in wrath prepares 
 
 His cherished hopes to aid : 
 
 From far and near the succours come 
 
 To march into thy mountain home, 
 
 Thy country to invade. 
 
 Equipped for war ; in arms complete 
 
 On Rhuddlan's plains his forces meet ; 
 
 From Rhuddlan's towers restored and strong 
 
 His princely banner streams ; 
 
 In Rhuddlan's halls are light and song 
 
 Ambition and its dreams. 
 
 War, wasting war, unceasing reigns 
 
 On Cambria's hills, on Cambria's plains : 
 
 Dread fire and sword, revenge and hate 
 
 Make all the country desolate. 
 
 Llewelyn for a sceptre strives 
 
 Held free from time untold ; 
 
 From princely sires his claim derives 
 
 Through lineage true and old : 
 
 While Edward views with envious eye 
 
 The power that dare his arms defy ; 
 
16 tt&ttttfUn Cattle. 
 
 Fears the rude crags which let the foe 
 Breathe scorn upon his troops below ; 
 And seeks how he may best enslave 
 A people unsubdued and brave. 
 
 Mourn Cambria ! mourn thy fallen state ! 
 
 "Llewelyn is no more ! 
 
 In dismal strain bewail his fate 
 
 From shore to distant shore. 
 
 With him thy ruined fortunes lie, 
 
 With him hope's promises must die ! 
 
 Strong was his father's lofty hold 
 
 Upon the mountain high, 
 
 Where with his followers free and bold 
 
 He could a host defy ; 
 
 There he might hold his foe at bay 
 
 And keep his throne secure for aye. 
 
 Why did he then with spirit brave 
 
 Descend his country's rights to save ? 
 
 It was a luckless hour, 
 
 When trusting traitorous hearts in vain, 
 
 He dared come down upon the plain, 
 
 From lofty Penmaen Mawr. 
 
 Mourn Cambria o'er thy fortunes fled, 
 
 Thy last, thy bravest Prince is dead ! 
 
 In Rhuddlan Edward proudly reigns, 
 
Ca^tlr. 17 
 
 And strips the conquered land ; 
 
 His troops victorious scour the plains ; 
 
 None dare his arms withstand ; 
 
 The proudest now are forced to cower, 
 
 And every stronghold own his power. 
 
 Last, steep 18 Dol'ddelan yields : 
 
 O'er hill and dale, o'er dell and wood ; 
 
 O'er Lledr's stream, and Conway's flood 
 
 The sceptre now he wields. 
 
 And Rhuddlan's halls are festive now, 
 
 The wreath is on the conqueror's brow : 
 
 A thousand ready tongues are found 
 
 His fame to tell his praise to sound ; 
 
 But who will boldly crave 
 
 In that glad hour of conquest proud 
 
 When swell congratulations loud 
 
 A pardon for the brave ? 
 
 No voice for gentle mercy plead ! 
 
 No voice with justice intercedes, 
 
 The fallen great to save ! 
 
 So deeds th' invaded dare devise 
 
 That blot ambition's reign. 
 
 Lo ! 19 David in the dungeon sighs, 
 
 And makes requests in vain ; 
 
 Hark ! the dread shriek of murder flies 
 
 Across the troubled plain ; 
 
18 fjuKUlan CaStlr. 
 
 From 20 Menai's shores upon the blast 
 The Bard's last wail is hurried past. 
 Pause Edward ! for upon thy name 
 Which conquests now adorn, 
 Such deeds will write undying shame, 
 In ages yet unborn. 
 
 But this is o'er ! thy mean "deceit 
 
 The pomp and regal state ; 
 
 The Bardic wail with woe replete, 
 
 And David's wretched fate : 
 
 All this is past, and let it die 
 
 With thee, and in oblivion lie. 
 
 But Rhuddlan's towers have seen a change, 
 
 And heard the voice of woe ; 
 
 In ^Richard's fall how fortunes change, 
 
 And crowns may come and go. 
 
 Have seen a change, and felt the power 
 
 That raged in mad rebellion's hour ; 
 
 Beheld the tide they could not quell 
 
 And yielding to its fury fell. 
 
 So passes earthly greatness by, 
 
 So earthly glories fade and die. 
 
 How grand were Rhuddlan's walls of yore, 
 
 But grandeur smiles on them no more. 
 
Cas'tlr. 19 
 
 How glorious in her former day, 
 How gloomy now her ruins grey. 
 Decay and death bring wreck and shade, 
 Earth's proudest monuments must fade. 
 Years glide along on time's swift stream, 
 Life's brightest joys are but a dream. 
 To some how short ! a tinted ray 
 That in a vapour melts away. 
 How fleeting, false, unreal, dead, 
 Will earth appear when life has sped. 
 The glare that now attracts the eye, 
 The rank for which men toil and die, 
 The passions which corrupt the taste, 
 And health and strength and beauty waste. 
 The revel mad, the godless mirth, 
 The pomp and pageantry of earth. 
 When life is past, what will they seem ? 
 But phantom shapes, a fitful dream : 
 A fitful dream, that will not stay ; 
 But vanish in eternal day. 
 
flaamcm fhe Syrian. 
 
 " Now Naaman, Captain of the host of the King of Syria, 
 was a great man with his master, and honourable, because by 
 him the Lord had given deliverance unto Syria ; he was also a 
 mighty man in valour, but he was a leper." 2 KINGS V. i. 
 
 "DESIDE the Prophet's dwelling, 
 
 Nigh Carmel's sacred hill, 
 A company are resting, 
 
 Their chariot wheels are still : 
 A grand imposing pageant 
 
 In expectation waits, 
 For Syria's mighty Captain 
 
 Is at the Prophet's gates. 
 
 He bears his costly presents, 
 
 And royal words he brings ; 
 Assured of hearty welcome, 
 
 The favoured guest of kings. 
 He, Naaman the Syrian, 
 
 For prowess known afar ; 
 He, Naaman the Syrian, 
 
 The victor chief in war ! 
 
$aaman tljc $nrian. 21 
 
 Why stands he thus a suppliant ? 
 
 What does he come to crave ? 
 Whose voice could bid destruction, 
 
 Whose spoken word could save. 
 Proud Naaman the Syrian, 
 
 Witli iron strength and will, 
 Is Naaman the Leper, 
 
 And needs the Prophet's skill. 
 
 Unheeding all his greatness, 
 
 His royal mandate shown, 
 The Prophet owns no Master, 
 
 Obeys no earthly throne. 
 The power of inspiration, 
 
 Breathed by the Prophet's Lord, 
 And Naaman the Syrian 
 
 Hears this commanding word. 
 
 Go ! wash in flowing Jordan ! 
 
 Go ! wash, and it shall be, 
 When seven times repeated, 
 
 Thy flesh shall come to thee ! 
 And in his quiet chamber 
 
 The man of God remains ; 
 Not seeking royal favour, 
 
 Nor asking earthly gains. 
 
$<iamaii tlj 
 
 " Methought," the angry Syrian 
 
 Replied, " that he would stand, 
 And calling on his Master, 
 
 Strike with a Prophet's hand. 
 Strike o'er the place infected, 
 
 And bid the poison cease ; 
 Then might the cleansed Leper 
 
 Return again in peace. 
 
 u Lo ! Abana and Pharpar 
 
 Are rivers better still 
 Than all the rippling streamlets 
 
 That make up Jordan's rill. 
 Why not in their broad waters, 
 
 Bright with the morning's sheen, 
 Dip seven times the Leper, 
 
 And make the Leper clean ? " 
 
 "My Father, if the Prophet," 
 
 So gentler voices sway, 
 " Had bid thee do some great thing, 
 
 Wouldest thou not obey ? 
 Why not, then, in this smaller, 
 
 That needs not strength nor skill, 
 In all that he commandeth 
 
 Obey the Prophet's will ?" 
 
flaaman tfje J>m't:ui. 23 
 
 Beside the flowing Jordan, 
 
 Upon its golden sands, 
 In changed and lowly posture 
 
 The humbled Leper stands : 
 And seven times he dips him, 
 
 And finds the lucid wave 
 Has at the Prophet's bidding 
 
 The cleansing power to save. 
 
 Not by the mighty actions 
 
 Which spring from human thought; 
 Not by earth's great exertions 
 
 Are heavenly blessings bought ; 
 But in God's own appointment, 
 
 A sure and simple way, 
 Are life and health and safety 
 
 To all who will obey. 
 
 There in the means provided 
 
 The grace of God is found ; 
 There every earnest effort 
 
 Is by His goodness crowned ; 
 There penitent and pleading, 
 
 A broken heart within, 
 The soul shall feel no longer 
 
 The leprosy of sin. 
 
Ijines foi? 'Rose, 
 
 Written when crossing the Atlantic Ocean on my way to 
 America, May gth, 1866. 
 
 T FEEL the heaving sea below, 
 
 I hear old Ocean's song; 
 The waves are dancing to and fro, 
 Our vessel speeds along. 
 
 The crest foam sparkles in the sun, 
 The rainbows deck the spray; 
 
 The fleecy clouds their courses run, 
 And brightly shines the day. 
 
 But far across the briny tide 
 
 The fancy dreaming goes 
 Down by the winding Tanat's side, 
 
 The quiet home of Rose. 
 
 I greet thee in thy quiet home, 
 Thou " Queen of flowers ! " and send 
 
 Backward with yon receding tide 
 A thought with thine to blend. 
 
38trtt)&an fttnr* for &osr. 25 
 
 Thy girlish years have passed away 
 
 On time's unceasing flood, 
 And brighter, fairer, day by day, 
 
 Dawns comelier womanhood. 
 
 What shall I wish ? That every grace 
 
 Within thy heart may reign ; 
 That spared for years in life's swift race, 
 
 This day to greet again ; 
 
 Thy home may ever happier be, 
 
 Thy days all brighter shine, 
 Thy love be hers who doats on thee, 
 
 Whose life is wrapp'd in thine. 
 
 May He Who rules the land and sea 
 
 Thy course in life defend ; 
 And many, many blessings be 
 
 Thy portion to its end. 
 
Spring Memories. 
 
 AIT" AS it a dream that breath of Spring 
 
 Which came and went in days gone by, 
 And now the waking mem'ry brings, 
 When light was in the sky ? 
 
 Was it a dream that murm'ring sound 
 
 Of Tanat rising up the hill, 
 Mingling with Nature's voice around, 
 
 When all beside was still ? 
 
 Too marked too real for a dream ! 
 
 I feel the breath, the light I see ; 
 I hear the sound of Tanat's stream, 
 
 And all comes back to me. 
 
 I look across the valley green 
 
 With springing grass ; while opening flowers 
 Smile in the scented morning sheen, 
 
 Along the hedge-row bowers. 
 
 The winding river rolls along, 
 The greedy trout leaps at the fly ; 
 
 I listen to the ceaseless song, 
 And yet I heave a sigh. 
 
27 
 
 A creeping shadow seems to come 
 Across the way I roamed anon ; 
 
 From yonder peaceful nestling home 
 The brighter light has gone. 
 
 Perchance a passing shade that lies 
 Too darkly on the silver past, 
 
 Again to vanish from life's skies, 
 And leave them clear at last. 
 
 'Tis not all wise to think that best, 
 Though fair and joyous, if it die ; 
 
 There is a truer, sweeter rest 
 Beside God's throne on high. 
 
 'Tis not all wise to dream on time 
 
 As if it never passed away ; 
 Beyond it is the life sublime 
 
 In God's eternal day. 
 
 If led to this by changes here, 
 
 And passing clouds, then we shall stand, 
 As comes again the opening year, 
 
 Nearer the promised land. 
 
 Till faintly through the closing night 
 Of death, we see our home above, 
 
 And know that we shall rise to light, 
 And joy, and peace, and love. 
 
Go (Rp. & (I)t:s. Oatrlingfon, 
 
 OF BOURTON HALL, 
 On their Silv:r Wedding, Sept. tfh, 1886. 
 
 O OFT light breaks with the morning 
 
 As silver lightnings fly, 
 From night's dim murky chambers, 
 
 Across the changing sky : 
 Pale azure still grows deeper, 
 
 As shadows pass away. 
 And sits the sun in splendour 
 
 Upon the throne of day. 
 
 From Winter's dreary slumber 
 
 Fresh balmy Spring awakes, 
 And from earth's frozen shoulders 
 
 Its icy mantle shakes : 
 With silent hand she touches 
 
 Each bud, and flower, and weaves 
 A living dress for summer 
 
 With her ten thousand leaves. 
 
STo dWr. anir d$lr. Barltngtnn. 29 
 
 As morn gives place to noonday, 
 
 So noonday to the night. 
 The mid-day sun goes downward, 
 
 To set in living light ; 
 More beautiful in dying 
 
 Among his crimson fires ; 
 Breathed in intenser glory 
 
 Ere the great king expires. 
 
 As Spring gives place to Summer, 
 
 So Summer must again 
 Give place to fruitful Autumn, 
 
 All rich in golden grain. 
 Then slow decay creeps onward 
 
 Beneath calm cloudless skies ; 
 Till shrouded in cold winter 
 
 All vegetation dies. 
 
 Thus all is moving forward 
 
 On time's resistless tide. 
 From infancy comes manhood ; 
 
 From a babe the blushing bride. 
 And joined in holy union 
 
 As one, for weal or woe, 
 Along the doubtful journey 
 
 Of chequered life they go. 
 
30 Co iHr. anlr iHr. 39arttit&taiT. 
 
 'Tis now the noon-tide Summer 
 
 With you as man and wife. 
 Domestic joys are all around, 
 
 And crown your married life. 
 It is your silver wedding, 
 
 And through the vanished years 
 The guidance and the blessing 
 
 Of God's Providence appears. 
 
 No need to fight life's battle. 
 
 Nor labour's war to wage ; 
 Your lot has fallen pleasantly, 
 
 A goodly heritage. 
 Your quiver full like arrows 
 
 In a mighty giant's hand, 
 Your glory and your safety, 
 
 Your children round you stand. 
 
 Lo ! Hayward, of such promise, 
 
 With tastes refined and good ; 
 And Lady-bird, so charming, 
 
 On the verge of womanhood ; 
 And Maude, with lustrous beauty 
 
 In all its winning grace ; 
 And Mopsy, calm and thoughtful, 
 
 But with deeply speaking face ; 
 
#?lr. antr ;$lnJ. BarltRftan. 31 
 
 Then tall Lucy and fair Agnes, 
 
 Not to pass them by ; 
 And quick, light-hearted Connie, 
 
 With dark and flashing eye ; 
 And Willoughby, though last, not least, 
 
 In life to play his part, 
 Who holds a secret corner 
 
 In his mother's loving heart. 
 
 One thought alone of sadness 
 
 Comes to you from the hill, 
 Where lies your absent darling, 
 
 'Neath the marble cold and still. 
 'Twas well ! for He Who never errs, 
 
 But rules all for the best, 
 Cut down the flower He wanted 
 
 For its everlasting rest. 
 
 'Twas well ! you know not now, but yet 
 
 You shall hereafter know 
 Why this little one was taken, 
 
 Though so hard to let him go. 
 To draw you, perhaps, to better things, 
 
 And lift your thoughts above 
 To where he now is happy, 
 
 In the home of light and love. 
 
32 Co iHr. antt $rlr$. 
 
 We greet you with good wishes, 
 
 And may this wedding be 
 All silvery with bright faces 
 
 And glad festivity ; 
 Without one anxious thought or care, 
 
 Without one boding sigh, 
 May all be clear and beautiful 
 
 On life's unclouded sky. 
 
 Look forward to the future ! 
 
 We wish you many years 
 Of tranquil joy and happiness, 
 
 Unmixed with earthly fears. 
 That when the five and-twenty 
 
 Shall again have passed away, 
 You may keep your golden wedding 
 
 As you keep the one to-day. 
 
 And see your children's children, 
 
 A bonnie, happy train ; 
 And hear their gladsome voices 
 
 To make you young again ; 
 And waken olden memories, 
 
 Before they pass away, 
 Of how you kept in former years 
 
 Your silver wedding day. 
 
(0 $lr. antf $ffr. 29arlmt0iu 33 
 
 Look forward to the future ! 
 
 For years are rolling on, 
 And all that is around us now 
 
 Will change, or soon be gone ; 
 Life's noonday and life's summer 
 
 Will hasten down the steep, 
 And lie almost forgotten 
 
 In death's unbroken sleep. 
 
 Look forward to the future ! 
 
 Beyond the gloomy line 
 Where death appears in terrors 
 
 Immortal glories shine ; 
 There is the home most blessed, 
 
 There be your rest at last ; 
 When all life's joys and sorrows 
 
 Shall lie buried in the past. 
 
24 Killaimeij Boaf Song, 
 
 T HEARD the water's music 
 
 When speeding o'er the lake ; 
 I heard its spirit speaking 
 
 As the wild waves round us brake, 
 And with free and restless motion 
 
 Went sparkling far away 
 To the freshness of the breezes, 
 
 And the light of Summer's day. 
 
 But they spoke to me of something 
 
 When the day's work should be done, 
 And the crimson tide of glory 
 
 Should surround the setting sun ; 
 When the sparkle and the freshness 
 
 And the motion should subside 
 Of the calm unruffled beauty 
 
 Of the golden eventide. 
 
23oat ^fln. 35 
 
 I heard some voices blending 
 
 Which a deeper meaning gave 
 To the chanting of the waters 
 
 And the breaking of the wave : 
 They were the young heart's music, 
 
 Fresh from its gushing springs, 
 When the future seems all joyous, 
 
 And hope its visions brings. 
 
 Yet they spoke to me of something 
 
 When this life should be o'er, 
 And those voices in their sweetness 
 
 Should blend on earth no more ; 
 When the young heart's deepest feelings 
 
 And gushing springs should cease 
 Of the rest that is in Jesus, 
 
 And deep eternal peace. 
 
 Earth is changing it is changing, 
 
 All its pleasures pass away ! 
 It is changing it is changing, 
 
 Like the beauty of the day ! 
 From its fashion that decayeth 
 
 Let us lift our thoughts on high, 
 To where beauty is unfading, 
 
 And pleasures never die. 
 
ft 
 
 ose. 
 
 T^HE thoughts go flitting to and fro, 
 
 As comes the scented Spring-time breeze, 
 And genial sunbeams dancing go 
 Among the budding trees. 
 
 They catch the life which Nature brings, 
 When waking from her Winter rest, 
 
 On balmy air she spreads her wings 
 In softest plumage drest. 
 
 And heedless, too, of time or space, 
 
 Along the pathway of the past 
 They run a joyous, free wild race, 
 
 Where'er life's lot was cast. 
 
 That pathway set with hopes and fears, 
 
 FulfilPd, or rudely put to flight; 
 And fading as the mist of years 
 
 Creeps on with darker night. 
 
37 
 
 But there are golden threads which run 
 Through all the past, if view'd aright ; 
 
 Like streamlets in the Summer sun, 
 Which make the landscape bright. 
 
 The golden threads of that great love 
 Of Him Who kept us day by day ; 
 
 And watched us from His throne above, 
 Lest we should go astray. 
 
 Not chance, but His sure guiding hand, 
 Has brought us to the present hour ; 
 
 And now in life we only stand 
 By His protecting power. 
 
 All things were made, both dark and light, 
 To work our good, and so we still 
 
 Shall find upon the darkness light 
 By His all ruling will. 
 
 We see but dimly now ! The way 
 He leads may not appear the best ; 
 
 Yet we shall find some future day 
 It led to endless rest. 
 
a 
 
 And as the clouds go flitting by 
 Across the shining noon-tide glare, 
 
 But leave no mark upon the sky 
 To tell that they were there. 
 
 So shall the stormy clouds which lie 
 Upon life's sky be put to flight ; 
 
 Nor leave a stain, but fade and die 
 In God's resplendent light. 
 
 And then the truest rest will come, 
 When all released from earthly strife, 
 
 We wake at length in that bright home 
 Of blissful endless life. 
 
October Oeirses 
 
 At the Royal Oak, Bettws-y-Coed, 1866. 
 
 T USED to come to Bettws 
 Some fifteen years ago ; 
 The " Oak " was then a pleasant place 
 
 With Creswick, Cox, and Co. ; 
 But then no restless tourists 
 
 Were rushing to and fro. 
 
 The ground was all artistic ; 
 
 Down by that quaint old mill 
 Would sit some candidate for fame, 
 
 Another on the hill 
 Among the heathered moorland ; 
 
 I would it were so still. 
 
 Some wand'ring fisherman, perchance, 
 
 The solitude would break, 
 By rock-bound foaming Llugwy, 
 
 Or swift Lledr ; or would take 
 " Big trouts " in stormy weather 
 
 From Moel Siabod's lake. 
 
40 
 
 Or some stout tired pedestrian 
 
 At eventide would stay 
 To rest his weary limbs awhile ; 
 
 And then at break of day, 
 To climb the lofty mountain 
 
 With new vigour start away. 
 
 And then sat landlord Roberts 
 
 Upon the settle there ; 
 And that most portly gentleman, 
 
 Old Hoyle, upon a chair ; 
 Both drinking strongest waters 
 
 To drive away dull care. 
 
 Methinks I see the Doctor, 
 
 John Fogg, and little Bach ! 
 Hulme, Chattock, and brave Hallewell, 
 
 And Cox on fame's steep track ; 
 And Tullock, whose wild dashes 
 
 Artistic taste did lack ! 
 
 And that snug little parlour 
 
 Where we did meet of yore, 
 When numb'ring all our company 
 
 We were not half-a-score ; 
 Where the brave maiden stood cartooned 
 
 Life-size upon the door ! 
 
October SFerSerf. 41 
 
 I come again to Bettws, 
 But all is changed, I trow : 
 
 The " Oak," that used to flourish once 
 Was quite a little bough, 
 
 Compared with the large branches 
 I see around me now. 
 
 There is no longer quiet 
 The Tourists now are here ; 
 
 They are a noisy company 
 And like a goodly cheer ; 
 
 They laugh, and shout, and chatter, 
 Drink stout and bitter beer. 
 
 The Swallow Falls they visit ; 
 
 To Conway's flood they go ; 
 Look over Pont-y-Pair awhile, 
 
 Crack jokes with So-and-so ; 
 And having done old Bettws, 
 
 Post back to Llandudno. 
 
 But still true art doth flourish, 
 
 And genius must endure 
 This constant rush of visitors, 
 
 A thing it cannot cure ; 
 We see the earnest Student 
 
 And meet the Amateur. 
 
42 
 
 There's Leche, down in Fosse Nodden, 
 Now called the Fairy Glen, 
 
 Intent on his great master-piece, 
 A work for fame ; but then 
 
 He'd rather be a grousing 
 Upon the hills I ken. 
 
 And Reed, with his rheumatics ; 
 
 They will not let him be ; 
 They touch him 'tween his shoulders, 
 
 And twitch him in the knee, 
 And sorely spoil his relish 
 
 For pleasant company. 
 
 And Leader seeks Glyn Lledr, 
 
 So wonderful in form ; 
 All glorious in the setting sun 
 
 When Summer nights are warm ; 
 But grand in its rough beauty 
 
 Beneath the frowning storm. 
 
 There Jackson also wanders 
 
 Those fairy scenes among ; 
 So skilled to touch the light guitar, 
 
 And wake the swell of song ; 
 His soul all full of music 
 
 While sauntering along. 
 
43 
 
 But Eastlake just has left us ; 
 
 I think it was not wise, 
 When came the bright fine weather, 
 
 And Autumn's cloudless skies : 
 And with him charming Fluffy, 
 
 And Dolly's laughing eyes. 
 
 And Agg comes from the river, 
 All through the rain and mist ; 
 
 There's something in that salmon sport 
 These people can't resist. 
 
 And Whittaker drops in at night 
 To play a game at whist. 
 
 Then Hawkins says tobacco 
 
 Is a most noxious weed ; 
 And truth perchance is on his side, 
 
 But greater powers he'll need 
 To check its rooted practice, 
 
 And silence Leche and Reed. 
 
 And Bell, a right good fellow, 
 
 Yet given to be late ; 
 Wells, Syer, Steeple, Emerson, 
 
 All striving to be great ; 
 And Charlie in the bar-room 
 
 With her eternal slate. 
 
44 & Jfragmmt. 
 
 But in the " Oak " grown larger, 
 
 We candidly must say, 
 There are more comforts at command 
 
 Than in the former day : 
 For these we gladly will accord 
 
 Our thanks to Mrs. Rae. 
 
 [ Fragment 
 
 was the morn at Oban's home, 
 And clear the sleeping bay ; 
 Ocean had laid its angry foam 
 
 And surging waves away : 
 While many a heart was glad and light, 
 
 And beat with purpose true ; 
 And many an eye grew full and bright 
 Beneath that sky of blue. 
 
 To Staffa's wondrous lonely isle, 
 
 And old lona's fane ; 
 By sunny rock and green defile, 
 
 Along the western main, 
 The steamer ploughed her onward way 
 
 Across the deep, deep sea ; 
 And from her bows the leaping spray 
 
 Went rolling merrily. 
 
She fLscenf o Snotodon 
 
 From Bettws-y-Coed, 1866. 
 
 A WAKE ! the rosy fragrant morn 
 
 Has chased away the murky dawn. 
 Shake from your eyelids drowsy sleep, 
 We climb to-day old Snowdon's steep, 
 To view the landscape far and wide 
 From Berwyn's heights to ocean's tide ! 
 Come ! breakfast waits, and we must lay 
 A good substratum for the day ! 
 
 " Eat what you can, but pocket none," 
 So doth the olden proverb run. 
 But here we seem to eat and cram 
 Into our satchels beef and ham 
 For mountain lunch, when air and height 
 Have whet our earthly appetite. 
 But one, more dainty than the rest, 
 Has slices from a chicken's breast ; 
 The better for her health and weal 
 Tis charming Fluffy's mid-day meal. 
 
46 (Trjr ^s'rrnt of 
 
 Oh what a name ! I wonder where 
 They found it for a girl so fair, 
 With soft, rich, sunny, golden hair ! 
 
 We start and Bettws leave behind, 
 And Capel Curig too ; 
 Where Robin can two ponies find, 
 And promises a view : 
 Smooth-spoken guide, I am inclined 
 To think your words untrue ! 
 
 From Pen-y-Pass, both sure and slow, 
 
 Along the mountain path we go, 
 
 And Helen leads the way ; 
 
 All stately on her sable steed, 
 
 No guide nor aid she seems to need, 
 
 And fresh and bright to-day. 
 
 With beaming countenance and fair, 
 
 Ah ! of her maiden smile beware, 
 
 For 'tis a dangerous thing ; 
 
 When hearts are light and spirits high 
 
 With no dark cloud on life's clear sky, 
 
 And love is on the wing, 
 
 To feel fond sympathy our own 
 
 Until we worship at its throne ; 
 
 To-morrow perhaps may leave us lone. 
 
 And Fluffy next, with spirits high, 
 
at <woto&0u. 47 
 
 Without one anxious care ; 
 
 So winning, with her lustrous eye 
 
 And streaming golden hair ; 
 
 No sadness makes her young heart sigh, 
 
 And sorrow sits not there. 
 
 Fair girl ! may life's rough pathway be 
 
 All clear, and smooth, and safe to thee ! 
 
 May summer days unclouded bring 
 
 Serenest joys ! may hope's deep spring 
 
 Send up its waters pure and clear 
 
 To cheer thee onward year by year ; 
 
 And when life's days are past, 
 
 May'st thou lie gently down to rest 
 
 Securely on thy Saviour's breast, 
 
 And find true joy at last ! 
 
 There only will earth's trouble cease, 
 
 There only can be perfect peace ! 
 
 And last, not least, is Dolly seen, 
 
 A quiet, dark-eyed maiden queen, 
 
 So picturesque and staid ; 
 
 On stronger steed of heavier tread, 
 
 With jacket of a sombre red, 
 
 And skirt of darker shade. 
 
 I see from out her gleaming eye 
 
 The living, sunny glances fly 
 
48 OK fts'crnt of 
 
 I wonder where they rest ! 
 
 Or where the thoughts in pensive hour, 
 Drawn by some sympathetic power, 
 Have made themselves a nest ! 
 Methinks there is a home away 
 To which those thoughts and glances stray ! 
 
 But rock, and steep, and danger past, 
 
 We reach the mountain top at last ; 
 
 And expectation wakes anew 
 
 To catch the far extensive view. 
 
 How vain that hope ! thick clouds are spread 
 
 Upon the rocky monarch's head. 
 
 So down we sit to eat, and munch 
 
 Our beef, and ham, and chicken lunch : 
 
 And then return, so ill repaid 
 
 For all the great exertion made. 
 
 But ere we go we take a look 
 
 And see how reads the stranger's book ; 
 
 And leave our names among the rest ; 
 
 And " verses " Fluffy doth suggest. 
 
 II We came to see ! but see alas ! 
 Wherever is Llanberis Pass ? 
 
 And Cwellin's Lake, and Aber's Bridge, 
 And distant Cader's lofty ridge ; 
 And Moel Siabod's outline true 
 
of JmofotTDit. 49 
 
 Against a summer sky of blue ; 
 
 And slippery Glydr's broken forms, 
 
 Swept rudely by a thousand storms ; 
 
 And boundless ocean wild and free, 
 
 And low, flat, sandy Anglesea ! 
 
 And Menai's Straits with mighty span, 
 
 A trophy to the skill of man ? 
 
 Alas ! we cannot see to-day 
 
 More than a hundred yards away. 
 
 Each sunny gleam the clouds resist, 
 
 We've missed the view and viewed the mist. 
 
 We've braved alike the steep and bog 
 
 To gaze on a damp, sweeping fog. 
 
 They say the Muse can rise and soar, 
 
 And sing of things divine, 
 
 And make the listening soul adore ; 
 
 This is no gift of mine ! 
 
 At least not now, when hope is dead, 
 
 And morning's promises have fled. 
 
 I cannot even wake the strain 
 
 To tell how we got down again. 
 
 So I must cease born out of time, 
 
 Not in the golden age, 
 
 I am no Muse, but only rhyme 
 
 Content as Fluffy's page. 
 
 D 
 
tOedding. 
 
 TO CARRIE. 
 
 So when you left me lonely in the wood 
 
 I wandered onward to the summer seat ; 
 
 And as the waters playfully went by 
 
 I took some fitful thoughts from out my brain, 
 
 And wove them into rhyme. Such as they are 
 
 1 lay them on thy shrine, and only ask 
 
 One smile approving now the work is done. 
 
 "D RIGHT is the morning's dancing ray, 
 
 More dear than the broad blaze of day. 
 Sweet is the fragrant breath which soon 
 Dies in the burning sultry noon. 
 And glorious are those streams of light 
 Which sunset spreads on coming night. 
 They pass, as earthly things pass by, 
 Delight, then disappoint and die. 
 Bright, dazzling, beautiful, they last 
 A moment, vanish, and are past. 
 We vainly grasp their parting gleam, 
 And weave from real tilings a dream ; 
 
51 
 
 This only stays the vision yet 
 
 Still lingers, veiled in fond regret. 
 
 So with our joys ; they come and go, 
 
 And leave bright spots behind ; 
 
 Like islands in a sea of woe, 
 
 Rests for the troubled mind. 
 
 From airy heights we see them gleam 
 
 As sacred spots in time's broad stream ; 
 
 Far up the vale of years that tell 
 
 Of happy days and hours, whose spell 
 
 Has not yet passed away ; 
 
 When hearts were light and spirits high, 
 
 And hope knew not that it could die, 
 
 In childhood's joyous day. 
 
 We see them gleam. Ah, yes ! they come 
 
 All freshness from our first loved home 
 
 With clear and soothing ray. 
 
 And though storms mar the summer blue, 
 
 Though some are false, and some untrue, 
 
 They speak with hope and say 
 
 There still are friends for friendship's smile, 
 
 And joys that tedious hours beguile ; 
 
 And hearts for love, and eyes whose light 
 
 Can guide in passion's deepest night : 
 
 The hidden future yet may be 
 
 A sweet dream made reality. 
 
52 Pas $cu 
 
 Awake then, thought ! recall the past 
 Gone hours from their dark tomb : 
 Strip their pale garments from them fast, 
 And give them life's fresh bloom. 
 Let not thy erring pinions stray 
 Where sleeps one sad or gloomy day ; 
 But wing with steady course thy flight 
 Among the happy, joyous, bright, 
 Which quickly sped without a sigh, 
 And bring them in all freshness nigh. 
 But sweep not back with rapid wing 
 O'er years long gone to-day 
 From recent scenes the fragments bring 
 Ere they quite pass away ; 
 Of Summer days and Summer hours, 
 Of murm'ring streams and shady bowers, 
 And skies all stainless blue ; 
 And build into a simple rhyme 
 These wavelets on the stream of time 
 In eighteen fifty-two. 
 Let these be thine the wild and free, 
 The shell-strewn shore, the restless sea ; 
 The crested ocean dark and deep ; 
 The mountain forms, the sunlit steep ; 
 The quiet glen where self-sown flowers 
 intwine themselves to Dryad's bowers, 
 
53 
 
 And cooling shades protect the seat 
 Where skilful love made love's retreat. 
 Intwine from these a chaplet gay 
 For mem'ry's treacherous brow ; 
 Perchance upon some future day, 
 When time has sped a long, long way, 
 One reading these rude lines may say 
 All comes back even now. 
 
 I would not stray from this sweet shade 
 Of quiet glen and woodland glade : 
 From mountain high the spirit's home, 
 From winding stream and ocean's foam ; 
 No, not in thought ; but yet I may 
 Recall awhile that former day, 
 When one sweet voice, before unknown, 
 Broke forth in music all its own, 
 And woke sweet mem'ries which console 
 The lonely and too thoughtful soul. 
 
 Time sped ! I heard that voice again 
 
 Where towns were all forgot ; 
 
 It bade me welcome to Plas Hen, 
 
 A lovely quiet spot. 
 
 A sweet retreat, a joyous home 
 
 Girt round with woods ; the crested foam 
 
 Of ocean stretching far away 
 
54 
 
 Seems with the dancing trees to play ; 
 
 And down the opening glade 
 
 Foams the wild stream, and salmon leap, 
 
 And richly-scented woodbines creep 
 
 Among the quiet shade ; 
 
 And banks are strewn with ferns and flowers, 
 
 And branches twine delightful bowers 
 
 Where we may lie and dream : 
 
 While hope with fairy footstep brings 
 
 Her visions of a thousand things 
 
 Down by the " Haunted Stream." 
 
 Unfettered, bounding thought is there, 
 
 While castles rise built in the air 
 
 Till all things happy seem. 
 
 I wish they would not fall and fade, 
 
 But last as beautiful as made ! 
 
 I wish they would not flee away, 
 
 But stand as they were built for aye ! 
 
 It may not be ! earth's visions still 
 
 Are changing as our wayward will ! 
 
 Turn now, my wand'ring Muse, thy flight 
 Down by the wild sea shore, and 'light 
 On rude Pen-y-Chain's head, and tell 
 How looks the sea-bird's citadel 
 Round which they skim with startled cry, 
 
55 
 
 As comes th' intruding stranger nigh. 
 
 Outstretched before it lies the deep, 
 
 Behind the mountains high ; 
 
 Rude ocean foams against the steep 
 
 Up whose rough side it may not leap ; 
 
 But falls again in tears that weep 
 
 Since it so low must lie ; 
 
 While o'er it rises cliff and hill, 
 
 And lofty summit tow'ring still 
 
 To kiss the lofty sky. 
 
 Bright shines the sun, and hours flit on, 
 
 And softly steal away ; 
 
 As airy clouds go one by one 
 
 In April's fresh'ning day ; 
 
 That leave no track nor mark when gone 
 
 To shew their free, wild way. 
 
 There beaming, happy faces meet, 
 
 And friendship sits by friendship's seat ; 
 
 And love perchance its influence lends 
 
 To make still dearer, cherish'd friends. 
 
 Now Carrie tends the lighted fire, 
 
 Till vexed with smoke and heat, 
 
 Her wearied patience seems to tire ; 
 
 She seeks some cool retreat, 
 
 And leaves her cooking half undone 
 
 To others in the broiling sun. 
 
56 Pas* 
 
 By yonder streaming veil I know 
 Who looks upon the waves below, 
 And hums the flying hours away 
 By mingling with the chanting bay 
 Sweet airs of some loved tune : 
 Bright beams her eye with colour true, 
 Reflecting back the ocean's hue 
 Caught from a sky of June. 
 
 On fly the thoughts ! away they go 
 
 To seek the bridal day ; 
 
 Joyous, yet tinged with shades of woe, 
 
 Which quickly pass away 
 
 Like heat drops with a warning sound, 
 
 Which live but till they touch the ground. 
 
 'Tis Katie's day a happy bride ! 
 And beauty's smiling train 
 Gladly attends and stands beside 
 Where love asserts its reign ; 
 And airy forms and phantoms glide 
 From each excited brain. 
 
 See Carrie there, with sunny smile 
 And laughter-speaking face ! 
 Save when some dark'ning clouds awhile 
 With angry frown we trace. 
 
57 
 
 Ah ! let them go and fly away, 
 
 I know they have not long to stay, 
 
 They suit not well her grace ! 
 
 For kind as any she can be, 
 
 With bounding heart all light and free, 
 
 And foremost in the race 
 
 To wake the feelings true and deep, 
 
 Which perish not, and never sleep, 
 
 Of friendship, or of love ; 
 
 But only burn with brighter fires 
 
 While the bright spirit still inspires 
 
 Which taught them first to move. 
 
 And Leonora, too, is seen 
 Attending on the bridal queen. 
 Deep-seated love expands, and fear 
 As draws the time of parting near. 
 No wonted laughter fills her eyes ; 
 Depression's weight upon her lies ; 
 Her spirit's fail ; and why ? 
 Her thoughts to the lone future stray, 
 And all is dark along the way ; 
 She dreads the last good-bye. 
 With Katie gone comes mental strife 
 A home without its light and life. 
 
 But why is Hennie sad to-day ? 
 
58 
 
 Hennie whose happy smile ! 
 
 Can drive dull sorrow far away 
 
 And lonely hours beguile. 
 
 Why do the checked tears well-nigh start ? 
 
 Why sad and heavy feels the heart ? 
 
 Where have her spirits flown ? 
 
 The past and future wildly blend, 
 
 And rising doubts their shadows lend, 
 
 Her thoughts are not her own. 
 
 They skim the vows of friendship past 
 
 And wonder whether such will last. 
 
 But why, my Muse, delay so long 
 
 To weave into your fitful song 
 
 A tribute to the Bride ? 
 
 She ought to be the first to share 
 
 Thy praise to-day her virtues are 
 
 Acknowledged far and wide. 
 
 See ! how she stands with modest grace, 
 
 And youth and beauty on her face, 
 
 In all her maiden pride. 
 
 Tell of her charms and goodness now 
 
 The bridal wreath surrounds her brow. 
 
 Sing of her first pure love, which woke 
 
 With a new life, and trembling broke 
 
 Its cold reserve, and wandered free, 
 
59 
 
 Lost in a fresh-found sympathy. 
 
 And all that after dream whose hue 
 
 Could tinge the future life anew. 
 
 'Twere vain to try ! We fain would please, 
 
 But cannot reach such heights as these. 
 
 How should the Muse unfold its wing, 
 
 Such high and lofty themes to sing ? 
 
 How tell the restless lover's part ; 
 
 Or secrets of a maiden's heart ? 
 
 The fickle stream of love's strong tide 
 
 Did never in smooth courses glide 
 
 Its ways are all its own. 
 
 Untaught ourselves, we cannot teach 
 
 True love it is beyond our reach, 
 
 'Tis felt ere it is known ! 
 
 St. George, I may not sing of thee 
 
 With Hennie flirting fearfully : 
 
 Nor Mouse, who gave his chance away 
 
 Upon that happy bridal day : 
 
 Nor musing Shepherd, half undone, 
 
 Dazzled by rays from beauty's sun : 
 
 Nor Fanny, with her open book ; 
 
 Nor Mother, with her pensive look ; 
 
 Nor Father, whose knit thoughtful brow 
 
 Speaks "Yes ! my child will leave me now !" 
 
60 Pa* $cu 
 
 These only each by name I try 
 To mention as I pass them by ; 
 Because I have not time 
 To linger by the gliding stream 
 Beneath the shade, and idly dream 
 And weave my wayward rhyme. 
 
 The feast is spread, but who shall say 
 
 The rich repast of that glad day ? 
 
 Attempt not e'en to tell a part 
 
 Where plenty twines itself with art. 
 
 But don't omit to speak a word 
 
 Of what was kindly seen and heard 
 
 Around that festive board. 
 
 Tell how the husband speech confessed 
 
 He felt all happy, joyous, blessed, 
 
 With her his soul adored. 
 
 And how St. George rose up to say, 
 
 When from his throne the sun 
 
 Departed at the close of day 
 
 To rest from labours done : 
 
 Then in the skies, all black with night, 
 
 The moon appears, and stars so bright 
 
 Come cheering us with borrowed light 
 
 From him whose course is run. 
 
 So when the bridal sun has gone 
 
fetn CSBrtrtttitfl. 61 
 
 And left the feelings sad and lone 
 
 Her moon and stars shine bright ; 
 
 Driving away the thoughts once sad ; 
 
 Making the sunken spirits glad, 
 
 The heavy heart all light. 
 
 Oh ! for a star true as that spark, 
 
 Which in night's circle deep and dark 
 
 Shines ever an unerring mark 
 
 To tell the frozen pole ! 
 
 Oh ! for a star like this to guide 
 
 Our course across time's stormy tide, 
 
 And on life's ocean, trackless, wide, 
 
 To steer the doubting soul ! 
 
 One that the deepest love inspires, 
 
 Where we might light our altar fires, 
 
 And constant vigils keep ! 
 
 Where free devotion's stream might pour 
 
 Its wonted homage, and adore, 
 
 And joyous passion weep ; 
 
 When hopes, and fears, and dangers past, 
 
 Made faithful love more prized at last ! 
 
 But, gentle Hennie, kindly tell, 
 
 Nor curious questions chide, 
 
 Whether induced by some glad spell 
 
 St. George got up and spoke so well 
 
 When standing at thy side ? 
 
" Moon-struck," or love-inspired did he 
 Not owe some happy thought to thee ? 
 
 But pause, my Muse ! nor venture near 
 
 To watch the held, yet starting tear. 
 
 Rest thy wild flight, nor wander nigh 
 
 To listen to the parting sigh. 
 
 Let every shade of sorrow's hue 
 
 Leave the clear sky all stainless blue 
 
 Where thought may freely rove ; 
 
 And build her castles, but if wise 
 
 She will ere their proud turrets rise 
 
 The first foundation prove. 
 
 This should be tested, strong and sure, 
 
 One that will long, long time endure. 
 
 What better lasts than love ? 
 
 Here faith would build her hopes : may they, 
 
 If truthful, never pass away ; 
 
 But brighten till their latest breath, 
 
 Then fade in the calm sleep of death. 
 
 Summer Seat by the Haunted Stream, July, 1852. 
 
Rose, 
 
 On her Coming-of-Age, May gth. 
 
 A/f ETHINKS I stand on Berwyn's lofty height, 
 
 At waking dawn, on this glad ninth of May ; 
 When morning blushes from her eastern home, 
 And laughs away grim darkness from the sky; 
 And with her lightning fingers, as she goes, 
 Picks from her way the fragments of black night, 
 And on the trees, obscured with rising mist, 
 With dainty touch her rainbow colours hangs; 
 And with her smile makes earth look beautiful. 
 
 Along the heathered mountain's barren slopes 
 
 The morning in unwonted brightness lies. 
 
 Pure sparkling dewdrops glisten all around ; 
 
 Fresh tiny streamlets prattle as they run ; 
 
 " We go," say they, " down from our mountain home, 
 
 For in the vale they keep glad holiday." 
 
 From cwm and glen those prattling streamlets come ; 
 From lonely spring and dripping mossy bed, 
 Till mingling into one they leap the rock, 
 
64 Co &or, on Tjcr Comtncj--af--&fle. 
 
 And foam and eddy in the pool below. 
 
 Through meadows green, fresh with the breath of Spring 
 
 By early flowers in warm and sheltered nooks ; 
 
 By ferns just budding into fuller life, 
 
 With ever restless motion on they go. 
 
 Llangynnog's deep ravine and village passed, 
 They reach Liangedwyn, where among the trees 
 27 Stands in repose Sir Watkin's stately home. 
 Sir Watkin, chief of Wallias valiant sons, 
 Tracing his lineage from a hundred kings, 
 And on his shield the eagle bears which waved 
 Upon the banners of a prince renowned, 
 When Owain Gwynedd marched to victory ! 
 
 Then on they go till Llan-y-blodwell's spire, 
 
 New and unusual rises on the view, 
 
 And pass with chanting voice the garden shade, 
 
 So tempting to the staid Divine, to sit 
 
 And ponder over subtle arguments, 
 
 Till lost in thought and mysteries unsolved. 
 
 And now they rest, not wearied in their course, 
 But lulled almost to slumber by the spell 
 Which spreads a charm around Bryn Tanat's home- 
 " Dear old Bryn Tanat," whose fair queen to-day 
 Claims friendly greetings, loyal, loving, true ! 
 
, on Ijer Camittg0fgr. 65 
 
 " Warm and truthful thoughts come to thee 
 
 On this joyous natal day ; 
 Thoughts which wish thee many blessings 
 
 Never to decay. 
 
 " Peaceful be thy pathway onward, 
 
 Opening still all bright and clear ! 
 Let a golden future greet thee 
 
 With each changing year ! 
 
 " Rose, the queen of all the garden ! 
 
 Queen, with all its blushing grace 1 
 Sov'reign thou in hearts around thee 
 
 With thy winning face ! 
 
 " Through the years of childhood upwards, 
 
 Many blessings have been thine. 
 Lo ! they speak from the great Father, 
 
 ' Make thy young heart Mine.' 
 
 " Now to womanhood arrived, 
 
 Safe in His protecting power ; 
 Ne'er forget whose arm can shield thee 
 
 In temptation's hour. 
 
 "And thus blessed, thy days all happy, 
 
 Kept by Him till life is past ; 
 May His Spirit guide thee onward 
 
 To thy rest at last." 
 E 
 
In fllemoiriam. 
 
 TO RHO. 
 
 T SIT down on the brook side 
 
 And see the waters run, 
 As they sport among the pebbles, 
 
 And sparkle in the sun. 
 I watch their restless motion 
 
 As they eddy to and fro ; 
 And from their gentle murmur 
 
 There rises Rho, Rho, Rho ! 
 
 I watch them on the rapids ; 
 
 When strong and angry grown 
 They run with noisy footstep, 
 
 And smite the thwarting stone. 
 I listen to their voices 
 
 As they foam with rushing flow ; 
 And their wild, and self-taught music 
 
 Is chanting Rho, Rho, Rho ! 
 
3En iffitmartam* 67 
 
 I follow in the meadows, 
 
 And see them wind about ; 
 Where hangs the brittle alder, 
 
 And lurks the speckled trout : 
 Where sweetly-scented violet 
 
 And modest primrose grow : 
 Their sound dies to a whisper, 
 
 But still 'tis Rho, Rho, Rho ! 
 
 I give loose to my fancy, 
 
 And let the spirit roam ; 
 Where lightning thought is leaping 
 
 In its free and boundless home. 
 I'm lost to all around me ; 
 
 Yet as I dreaming go, 
 I hear the heart's deep murmur ; 
 
 Tis sighing Rho, Rho, Rho ! 
 
 And when the golden sunset, 
 
 With all its crimson fires, 
 Is gath'ring still intenser, 
 
 Ere the great King expires : 
 I watch those airy cloud forms 
 
 Sail through the golden glow : 
 But my lonely heart is yearning 
 
 For rest, with Rho, Rho, Rho ! 
 
In flrlcmnrtam. 
 
 TO MOTHER, 
 After the Birth of her first Baby-Boy, May, 1869. 
 
 HTHROUGH woman's sorrow deep and full 
 Our God has spared thee my own Rho ; 
 To Him our first, and heartfelt thoughts, 
 In gratitude should go. 
 
 And may His Presence, and His love, 
 Which kept and shielded thee in pain, 
 
 Be in its fulness round thee still ; 
 Till thou art strong again. 
 
 And shine about thy ev'ry path, 
 
 Throughout a long and peaceful life ; 
 
 Till thou, in Christ art safe at last 
 My lov'd and trusted wife ! 
 
 Health to our boy ! may God pour down 
 
 His Holy Spirit from above ; 
 And teach the heart, while young, to know 
 
 The Saviour's mighty love. 
 
 Till Spirit taught his thoughts shall soar 
 From earthly things, and count them loss ; 
 
 And he in truth and heart shall be 
 A soldier of the Cross. 
 
Health to our boy ! for thy dear sake ; 
 
 God's gift a mother's joy to fill, 
 And make thy trusting, loving heart 
 
 More blest and happy still. 
 
 Watch'd by thy ever-anxious love ; 
 
 And dearer still thy strength and pride ! 
 May he be kept with thee to share 
 
 Life's golden eventide. 
 
 And when life's chequered race is o'er, 
 And all its changing scenes are past ; 
 
 May he, and you, and I be found 
 Before the throne at last. 
 
 ^MOTHER'S BIRTHDAY. 
 Sung at her Bedroom Door, October 2$rd t 1878. 
 
 A WAKE ! awake, with joyful strain ! 
 
 Awake at early dawn ! 
 To welcome mother home again, 
 And greet her birthday morn. 
 
 Five darling pets will do their parts, 
 
 A mother's love to win ; 
 Five darling pets, with longing hearts, 
 
 Are waiting to come in. 
 
70 Jii #lcm0rtam. 
 
 The sickly one, though far away 
 With nurse down at the sea, 
 
 Sends fondest greetings, too, to-day ; 
 And kisses sweet to thee. 
 
 We wish thee many, many more 
 Returns of this glad day ; 
 
 We hope for many joys in store, 
 And sunshine on thy way. 
 
 May God long spare thee, mother dear ! 
 
 To us and us to thee ; 
 And may we all, year after year, 
 
 More true and loving be. 
 
 MOTHER'S BIRTHDAY. 
 Sung at her Bedroom Door, October 23rd, 1879. 
 
 \ 1 TE are coming ! we are coming 
 
 To wish our mother joy ! 
 Feff, Sissie, Fee, May, Agatha, 
 
 And little Digby boy. 
 Listen, mother ! dearest mother ! 
 
 To what we have to say ; 
 Many happy very happy 
 
 Returns of this glad day ! 
 
3En ^tcmortam. Tl 
 
 MOTHER'S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 Sung at her Bedroom Door, October 2.yd, 1880. 
 
 A ROUSE thee, sweetest mother ! 
 
 Thy children all are here ; 
 Kept safely by God's goodness 
 Throughout another year. 
 
 Since last upon thy birthday 
 We woke thee up with song ; 
 
 Rich blessings, upon blessings, 
 Have strewn our path along. 
 
 But this we deem the richest, 
 
 Our leaping hearts to fill 
 With joy to overflowing, 
 
 That thou art with us still. 
 
 We give thee, dearest mother ! 
 
 More than our words can say, 
 A joyous, loving greeting 
 
 On this thy natal day. 
 
 God guard thee ! may His goodness 
 In fulness round thee spread ; 
 
 And all His choicest blessings 
 Be shower'd upon thy head. 
 
72 In #1 r mar tarn. 
 
 Still may He keep thee safely, 
 
 Through years and years to come : 
 
 The life the brightest sunshine 
 The joyspring of our home. 
 
 TO MOTHER. 
 
 AKE lightly from thy slumbers 
 
 On this thy natal day : 
 Give God thy heartfelt praises ; 
 
 A year has passed away : 
 Another year, whose mercies prove 
 His gracious and abiding love. 
 
 About thy path He watched thee ; 
 
 His tender care we trace ; 
 Thy deep, soft eye is brighter, 
 New health is on thy face : 
 And as thou treadest up the hill 
 Of life, fresh visions open still. 
 
 And may the very brightest 
 That ever met the gaze ; 
 Free from corroding sorrow, 
 Free from obscuring haze, 
 Be thine ! till in a clearer day 
 The best of earth shall pass away. 
 
3E ^Umortam. 73 
 
 While here, may He still lead thee 
 
 Along the path of right : 
 His word thy rule of action ; 
 
 His Spirit thy true light. 
 Yes ! onward still, till all divine 
 The Christian life within thee shine ! 
 
 And when thy days are ending, 
 
 And all their troubles past ; 
 May no rude doubt disturb thee. 
 
 No gloomy shade be cast : 
 But safe upon thy Saviour's breast 
 May alt be calm repose and rest. 
 
 TO MOTHER. 
 
 1883. 
 
 T RESTED on the turf-clad seat, 
 
 Above the smiling, circling bay, 
 Where hoary crags morn's blushes meet ; 
 And saw proud ocean at my feet 
 Go stretching far away. 
 
 And restless, as that restless sea, 
 
 My thoughts went speeding to and fro ; 
 I pictured life all bright with thee, 
 From cares and clouding sorrow free : 
 'Tis twenty years ago. 
 
74 
 
 Though dark the future then with fear, 
 
 I hoped one day to call thee wife ; 
 And find thee growing still more dear, 
 With every swiftly passing year, 
 In trust and love for life. 
 
 That cloud of fear passed on its way ; 
 
 God's hand has been directing all ; 
 From darkness He brings light then day 
 Smiles where in gloom the darkness lay ; 
 
 He rules things great and small. 
 He has been good to you and me ; 
 
 And very many blessings given. 
 From untold ills our lives are free ; 
 By His unerring wisdom, we 
 
 Are guided on towards heaven. 
 
 He has been good ! our home is blessed 
 With varied comforts ; and around 
 
 Our children flourish, loved, caressed ; 
 
 To us the sweetest and the best, 
 With health and spirits crowned. 
 
 He gave, and He can keep them still, 
 
 Where'er their lot in life is cast ; 
 Can guide them through this world of ill, 
 And give them strength and grace, until 
 He lead them home at last. 
 
jEn |Hrm0rtam. 75 
 
 He has been good ! when sorrow fell, 
 
 Increasing almost to dismay ; 
 'Twas life or death for none could tell ; 
 Faith whispered, "He does all things well:" 
 
 The danger passed away. 
 
 And now a cloud appears again, 
 
 And takes the sunshine from the scene ; 
 
 Fear conquers faith, and all the plain 
 
 Of life is dull with mist and rain ; 
 No sunshine gleams between. 
 
 This cloud may pass, or deeper grow 
 With living torture on the brain ; 
 
 We see not now why it is so ; 
 
 Enough ! hereafter we shall know, 
 When He makes all things plain. 
 
 All is not dark ! the blackest cloud 
 
 That stains life's azure sky above ; 
 Where lightning flash, and thunders loud 
 Are heard, is but the passing shroud 
 Of God's eternal love. 
 
 Look up and trust Him ! since that love 
 Will never send one needless pain ; 
 
 He trains us for the life above ; 
 
 His visitations all will prove 
 Our everlasting gain. 
 
76 In &Umariam. 
 
 No stroke comes from the Father's rod, 
 
 Which is not needed in the strife, 
 Found in the way by martyrs trod, 
 And all the faithful sons of God, 
 Who win the crown of life. 
 
 There is a home, where free from pain, 
 When life's sore trials all are o'er, 
 
 The gathered saints with Christ shall reign; 
 
 Where loved and lost shall meet again, 
 And partings be no more. 
 
 To that blest home look forward still ; 
 
 On God's great love cast all thy care ; 
 He will His promises fulfil, 
 And bring thine own, through good and ill, 
 
 At last to meet thee there. 
 
 Before the Reaper comes, we pray 
 
 That God may His great goodness show; 
 And spare thy life, and day by day, 
 Clear rising doubts and fears away, 
 And grace and strength bestow. 
 
 Add many joyous years to thee ; 
 
 And happy birthdays as they come ; 
 Restore thy health, and set thee free 
 From anxious thoughts ; so thou shalt be 
 
 The light of our glad home. 
 
$n iHcmortam. 77 
 
 TO MOTHER. 
 October 2$rd, 1884. 
 
 T USED to love the Spring-time 
 
 All fresh with life and song ; 
 And dream upon the future 
 
 With expectation strong. 
 I wandered 'mong wild flowers 
 
 Where rippling streamlets flow, 
 And heard with nature's music 
 
 The loving voice of Rho. 
 
 And through the gloomy dimness 
 
 Of yet unfolding years, 
 Hope changed to rainbow colours, 
 
 The hazy mist of fears ; 
 And in the dreamy stillness, 
 
 When thoughts intenser grow, 
 There rose out of that silence 
 
 The loving voice of Rho. 
 
 But now the Autumn warneth 
 
 By far and wide decay, 
 That earth's best beauty changes 
 
 Her glories pass away : 
 So life's most cherish'd pleasures 
 
 Will cloy, or fade, or go ; 
 But yet unchang'd remaineth 
 
 The loving voice of Rho. 
 
78 In fHcmanam. 
 
 While "love and trust " unshaken 
 
 Rule over heart and will ; 
 Though all is changing round us 
 
 One thing is constant still : 
 Through good report and evil, 
 
 Through joy, or grief, or woe, 
 There comes, in sweetest accents, 
 
 The loving voice of Rho. 
 
 TO RHO. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 "T*IS so on earth ! for never yet 
 
 Had it a cloudless day, 
 Whose sun did not in darkness set, 
 And for black night make way. 
 Nay ! on its bluest, clearest skies 
 Unthought-of storms will often rise. 
 'Tis so with life ! around our home 
 Griefs, fears, and disappointments roam. 
 They enter there, if God so will, 
 And speak, when hushed the soul is still. 
 They are but mercies kindly given 
 To teach there is no rest but Heaven. 
 
 In that glad home, nor death, nor sin 
 To break its peace will enter in ; 
 But sin's destructive power will cease, 
 And then will come eternal peace. 
 
Yiof Deofb, but Sleep. 
 
 Written after the Funeral of Minna Evadne Edwards, who 
 died May 6th, 1873, aged 3 years. 
 
 "ORE is not dead, but sleepeth," He 
 
 Once said Whose word is life Whose breath 
 Brings hope and blessed peace, but she, 
 The maid, lay still in death. 
 
 He stood within the silent room, 
 
 Where all was ghastly stiff repose, 
 His word and touch dispell'd the gloom, 
 
 The sleeping maid arose. 
 
 I hear that voice again to-day, 
 
 As to the open grave we tread, 
 In soothing tones it comes to say, 
 
 "The sleeper is not dead." 
 
 Is this not true ? look up and see, 
 
 The springing, teeming earth is rife, 
 With bursting shell, with budding tree, 
 
 All signs of waking life. 
 
80 $at Qratfo, but lrrp. 
 
 The morning sheen is all around, 
 The morning light is on the hill, 
 
 And nature's voice in one glad sound, 
 Proclaims her living still. 
 
 The reaper came, he took the flower, 
 Now dearest to the mother's heart ; 
 
 In bitterness she felt the power, 
 Of the destroyer's dart. 
 
 Faith falls before that stunning blow, 
 It cannot rise to see the light ; 
 
 Too full of grief the heart lies low, 
 For all is dark as night. 
 
 The thoughts are on the open tomb, 
 Not on that better, brighter scene, 
 
 Where flowers put on immortal bloom, 
 Death's shadow lies between. 
 
 " The resurrection and the life 
 
 I am," He said, Who came to save, 
 
 And conquer'd in the mighty strife, 
 And burst the fetter'd grave. 
 
 Through Him the lost are ours again, 
 For faith looks for the world to come, 
 
 Where we with them still hope to reign, 
 In that bright sinless home. 
 
Cruj: #ltbt 8nc!)ara. 81 
 
 There, even now, thy lost one soars, 
 Before the throne on angel wings, 
 
 And in the light of love adores, 
 And with the seraph sings. 
 
 Weep not ! it was thy Father's will, 
 We lay thy lov'd one down to rest, 
 
 In gentle slumber, safe and still, 
 On her Redeemer's breast. 
 
 There to be kept with tend'rer care, 
 Than even thy fond mother's love, 
 
 There kept till thou art called to share 
 With her full joys above. 
 
 Ctmx (Dihi 
 
 (Suggested by above words on a Bands' Case presented to me.) 
 
 O AFE by the Cross no doubts arise, 
 
 No fears disturb the breast ; 
 Our home is made beyond the skies, 
 There is the longed-for rest. 
 
Crujr IHii 
 
 For this fair Christian soldier fight, 
 Since death will cast its shade ; 
 
 Thy flashing eye will lose its light, 
 And beauty's tints will fade. 
 
 Safe by the Cross securely dwell, 
 
 And let the world sweep by ; 
 Its tide may heave, and burst, and swell, 
 
 Thou canst its strength defy. 
 
 If lifting up thy thoughts above, 
 
 Thou learnest day by day 
 There is a world of endless love ; 
 
 While this will pass away. 
 
 Safe by the Cross ! with Christ alone, 
 And hope and strength divine ; 
 
 All powerful at Jehovah's throne, 
 Each blessing shall be thine. 
 
 There be thy rest ! and may His power, 
 Who breaks the spell of death, 
 
 Grant Thee that gracious, mightiest dower- 
 His re-creating breath. 
 
tOoy o kife. 
 
 O TEEP is the way that leads to God, 
 
 By few that way is bravely trod ; 
 Be this thy fear, lest it should be 
 The better way unknown to thee. 
 
 Steep is that way ! ah, then beware ! 
 Lest other ways be all thy care, 
 Here lies the path from sloth and sin, 
 This thou must tread the crown to win. 
 
 Steep is the way ! awake ! arise ! 
 And seek true rest beyond the skies. 
 By grace by faith this way may be 
 A daily path of life to thee. 
 
 Steep is the way ! but not too steep 
 For those whom Jesus calls from sleep. 
 If grace and faith within thee reign 
 To live is Christ to die is gain. 
 
fleit? 
 
 TT* OR Thy mercies broadly cast, 
 
 Thro' the year so lately past ; 
 For Thy blessings, day by day, 
 Freely scattered round our way ; 
 Safely kept thro' good and ill, 
 For Thy love was with us still ; 
 We would raise our song to Thee, 
 Ever blessed Trinity. 
 
 Thro' the year now just begun, 
 Keep us till its sands have run ; 
 With Thy wings above us spread, 
 By Thy Presence onward led ; 
 Strengthened by Thy pow'r within, 
 To resist and vanquish sin ; 
 Our glad song shall rise to Thee, 
 Ever blessed Trinity. 
 
85 
 
 In Thy courts we meet to-day, 
 For Thy special grace to pray ; 
 Take us to Thy guardian care, 
 Let us all Thy blessing share ; 
 With Thy heav'nly grace endue, 
 Every heart create anew ; 
 Draw us by Thy pow'r to Thee 
 Ever blessed Trinity. 
 
 Gracious Father, by Thy might 
 Keep us in the path of right ; 
 Blessed Saviour, by Thy love 
 Lead us to Thy home above ; 
 Holy Spirit, from on high 
 Guide, and guard, and sanctify ; 
 Bring us all to rest in Thee, 
 Ever blessed Trinity. 
 
 fldoenf. 
 
 HPHERE sounds a note of warning, 
 
 It is the herald's cry, 
 The Lord of life is coming, 
 
 His advent day is nigh ! 
 He comes ! the Judge upon His throne ! 
 He comes ! His waiting Church to own ! 
 
Be ready then and waiting, 
 Thy absent Lord to see I 
 The day of thy redemption 
 That advent day shall be ! 
 He comes 1 the Judge upon His throne ! 
 He comes ! His waiting Church to own ! 
 
 Now with the world's false pleasure 
 
 Renounced and put away, 
 Thy heart shall leap with gladness, 
 
 As dawns the advent day ; 
 He comes ! the Judge upon His throne ! 
 He comes ! His waiting Church to own ! 
 
 Arise with expectation, 
 
 Behold, times' gloomy sky 
 Grows bright with hope and promise ! 
 
 The advent day is nigh ; 
 He comes ! the Judge upon His throne ! 
 He comes ! His waiting Church to own ! 
 
 \1TATCH and wait ; the stream is rolling 
 
 Swiftly towards the end of time, 
 Bearing all with rapid motion 
 
 Onward to that day sublime, 
 When will come the midnight cry, 
 Wake ! the Bridegroom Judge is nigh ! 
 
87 
 
 Watch and wait ! for as the lightning 
 Flashing o'er the wide wide sea, 
 
 At a moment unexpected, 
 
 Shall the Saviour's coming be ; 
 
 Then will rise the midnight cry, 
 
 Wake ! the Bridegroom Judge is nigh ! 
 
 Watch and wait in expectation ! 
 
 Ready for that dreadful day, 
 When the sure abiding heaven, 
 
 As a scroll shall pass away, 
 And be heard the midnight cry, 
 Wake ! the Bridegroom Judge is nigh ! 
 
 Watch and wait ! but safe in Jesus, 
 He alone can keep us when 
 
 His appearing shall with terror 
 Seize the failing hearts of men, 
 
 As goes forth the midnight cry, 
 
 Wake ! the Bridegroom Judge is nigh ! 
 
 Watch and wait with lamps all ready ! 
 
 Sanctified in heart and life, 
 Looking for His re-appearing, 
 
 And the end of sinful strife ; 
 Then 'twill be the welcome cry, 
 Wake 1 the Bridegroom Judge is nigh ! 
 
Christmas. 
 
 fWritttn for "Lyra Messianica.") 
 
 "M" IGHT spreads her sable veil 
 
 Across the stainless sky ; 
 And one by one each twinkling star 
 Peeps from its silent home afar, 
 Tempting the wandering eye 
 To rest while thought in vision soars, 
 And lost in wonderment adores. 
 
 But lo ! the vaulted dome 
 
 Is filled with light divine ; 
 God's Angel comes to earth to-day 
 With gracious news, about his way 
 
 Celestial glories shine : 
 He comes to tell to fallen earth 
 The long-expected Saviour's birth. 
 
The shepherds see the light, 
 
 And they are sore afraid ; 
 They hear His voice " Let terror cease 
 To you is born the Prince of Peace, 
 
 And in a manger laid : 
 Go ! seek the Saviour Christ the Lord, 
 The ever-blessed, all-adored ! " 
 
 Then wakes a mighty song 
 
 From Angel hosts above ; 
 And multitudes unite to sing 
 The praise of their eternal King, 
 
 And His redeeming love : 
 Divine and full, that wondrous sound 
 Goes echoing the wide world around. 
 
 " Glory to God on high, 
 
 And on the earth be peace, 
 Good will to men" so swells the strain, 
 Hope visits this lost world again 
 
 Hope that will never cease ; 
 While Jesu's grace, and Jesu's love, 
 Call fallen man to rest above. 
 
(he piphony. 
 
 A17HAT a star was that whose splendour 
 
 Seen above Euphrates' tide, 
 Safely led the wond'ring Magi 
 To the Infant Saviour's side ! 
 
 O'er the barren rocks of Edom, 
 
 O'er the desert's burning sand, 
 Onward to fair Zion's city, 
 
 Onward from their Eastern land. 
 
 But a brighter light has risen, 
 
 Jacob's star, with healing ray, 
 Risen on the Gentile nations, 
 
 Herald of a perfect day. 
 
 Still it shines with growing lustre 
 
 Unto earth's remotest bound, 
 Spreading life, and free salvation, 
 
 Where sin's gloomy reign is found. 
 
91 
 
 Light divine ! draw our affections, 
 Teach us the right way to see, 
 
 Lead us from our nature's darkness 
 To the better life in Thee. 
 
 f Written for "Lyra Mystica," and favourably noticed by the 
 " Saturday Review." Re-published in " The Church Seasons.") 
 
 "DEYOND the barren mountain range, 
 
 Where Hor lifts up his sacred head, 
 And buried lies in myst'ry strange, 
 As years work out their silent change, 
 The city of the dead. 
 
 Where proud Euphrates day by day 
 
 Winds through the plain, or sleeping lies ; 
 
 The watching Magi nightly pray, 
 
 And seek the future's hidden way 
 From planet-lighted skies. 
 
 Through clear unclouded midnight air, 
 
 On vast infinity's dark page ; 
 With deepest skill, and constant care, 
 They read the golden letters there 
 
 That wax not old with age. 
 
(T!jc Cptpljann. 
 
 Lo ! as they gaze with deep intent, 
 
 A star more brilliant than the rest, 
 The herald of some great event, 
 Moves through the gilded firmament, 
 Onward towards the West. 
 
 Then came the sound tradition brought 
 
 From Peor's top in days of old ; 
 What time the Seer, entranced, caught 
 Prophetic power, and Spirit taught, 
 The future did unfold 
 
 11 A sceptre shall from Israel rise ; 
 
 A star from Judah doubly blest ! " 
 And now before their wond'ring eyes 
 This brilliant meteor walks the skies, 
 
 Still on towards the West. 
 
 Where'er it leads, that fiery light 
 Unhidden by the blaze of day, 
 And marking with intenser might 
 The darkness of the deeper night, 
 They follow on the way. 
 
 With morning's blush ; when sunsets fade ; 
 
 On over rock, and steep, and wild, 
 By palm and cedar tree and shade, 
 Till in the homely manger laid, 
 
 They find the Royal Child. 
 
(The eptpbrmn. 93 
 
 Intruding doubts away they fling ; 
 
 Unheeding the unwonted stir, 
 They from their costly treasures bring 
 Free offerings to the Infant King 
 
 Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh. 
 
 Gold shadows forth His royalty ; 
 
 While Frankincense His priesthood shows ; 
 And Myrrh that He shall buried be ; 
 And so the wondrous mystery 
 
 With deeper meaning grows. 
 
 Oh ! for some holy light enshrined 
 
 In God's dark ways, or Holy Word, 
 To break upon each darkened mind 
 With Spirit power, till all may find 
 That Saviour, Christ the Lord. 
 
 Till walking in a living way 
 
 To holier purpose we arise ; 
 And on His Altar day by day 
 Our thoughts and best affections lay, 
 
 A willing sacrifice. 
 
Crucifixion, 
 
 (Written for " Lyra Messianica."} 
 
 TT EAVEN and earth are hushed in silence, 
 Watching for the latest throe ; 
 
 Christ, the God-man Saviour, suffers 
 On the Cross intensest woe : 
 Jesus dies upon the tree 
 In extremest agony ! 
 
 Baffled in the desert's struggle, 
 
 And Gethsemane's dark hour ; 
 Now Satanic hosts assemble, 
 Sin assails with all its power : 
 Jesus dies upon the tree 
 In extremest agony 1 
 
 In the garden, in the desert, 
 
 In His life work not alone ; 
 But the light, till now unclouded, 
 Fades around His Father's throne : 
 Jesus dies upon the tree 
 In extremest agony ! 
 
Crucifixion. 95 
 
 Darker than the sudden darkness, 
 
 On the troubled soul within, 
 Deeper, denser, more oppressive, 
 Rises up that cloud of sin : 
 Jesus dies upon the tree 
 In extremest agony ! 
 
 From eternity approving, 
 
 Love shone from the Father's brow ; 
 Never absent from His Presence, 
 But the Father leaves Him now ! 
 Jesus dies upon the tree 
 In extremest agony ! 
 
 Peadlier than the body's torture, 
 
 Than the sinking, fainting frame, 
 Hopeless, crushing, overwhelming, 
 Growing desolation came : 
 Jesus dies upon the tree 
 In extremest agony ! 
 
 Who shall tell the depth of feeling 
 
 Echoed through the worlds on high, 
 Full, intense, unmeasured anguish 
 Spoken in that bitter cry, 
 
 Rising wildly from the tree 
 " Why hast Thou forsaken Me ? " 
 
96 <ater JBay. 
 
 Gaze with wond'ring adoration 
 
 At the Cross the Saviour bore ! 
 Gaze until the heart is melted ! 
 
 Lo ! it speaks " Go, sin no more ! " 
 Look, my soul, look up and see ! 
 Jesus dies upon the tree 
 In extremest agony ; 
 Jesus dies, dies thus for thee ! 
 
 asfei? Day. 
 
 (Written for "Lays of the Sanctuary.") 
 
 to the grave to mourn and weep. 
 Where Jesus calmly lies ; 
 Where list'ning silence, still and deep, 
 
 Bids holiest thought arise. 
 Tread softly, for among the dead 
 With careless step 'twere wrong to tread ; 
 Or vex with aught that home so dread, 
 Where mirth and laughter dies. 
 
fflag. 97 
 
 But see ! the morning dawns, and day 
 
 Steals on the track of night ; 
 The shapeless masses move away 
 
 As spreads the tinting light ; 
 And day awakes another week 
 Breaks with its cares, and sad we seek 
 The dead ; but lo ! the living speak, 
 
 Clad in pure robes of white. 
 
 "Why seek the living 'mong the dead ? 
 
 The Saviour did not die 
 To make this dismal tomb His bed, 
 
 Where He for aye must lie. 
 Heard ye no shout ? The far worlds ring, 
 Angels attend the risen King, 
 His triumph over death shall bring 
 
 His own Redeemed nigh." 
 
 To-day is spread a Holy Feast, 
 
 With willing hearts obey ; 
 Draw near with faith, nor let the least 
 
 In hope, turn cold away. 
 By the known symbols of His love 
 The mind is drawn to things above, 
 And strength and grace imparted prove 
 
 We meet the Lord to-day ! 
 G 
 
98 
 
 This is our day ! We will rejoice, 
 
 Sin reigns in us no more : 
 Grace triumphs let us lift our voice 
 
 The Saviour to adore. 
 He broke the cruel tyrant's sway ; 
 He took the sting of death away ; 
 Let us with gratitude obey 
 
 Till this short life is o'er. 
 
 And when through death's dark gate we go 
 
 To happier worlds unknown, 
 Where we mysterious love shall know, 
 
 And ruling wisdom own : 
 Divinely taught His praise to sing, 
 Spontaneous then our thoughts will spring 
 To Him, our God, Redeemer, King, 
 
 On His eternal throne. 
 
 flscension. 
 
 T T ARK ! for the shout of triumph 
 
 Through all Creation rings ; 
 Angelic hosts are greeting 
 
 The risen King of kings. 
 O'er Death and Hell victorious, 
 
 All power to Him is given ; 
 The Conq'ror of all Conq'rors, 
 
 Ascendeth up to Heaven. 
 
99 
 
 Lift up ye gates eternal ! 
 
 And be ye lifted high 
 Ye doors from everlasting 
 
 The guardians of the sky ! 
 Admit the King of glory, 
 
 The King Who comes to reign ! 
 Who is this King of Glory ? 
 
 The Lamb for sinners slain. 
 
 The Lamb Who meekly suffered, 
 
 And in the sinner's stead 
 Died on the Cross as guilty, 
 
 Now risen from the dead ; 
 Rais'd by the power immortal, 
 
 Rais'd never more to die : 
 Lift up ye gates eternal, 
 
 Ye doors be lifted high ! 
 
 Admit the King of glory, 
 
 The Lord of Hosts is He ; 
 The Lord supreme for ever 
 
 To all eternity. 
 Let Heaven's united chorus 
 
 Its glad hosannas sing 
 To Christ, the Lord of glory 
 
 Christ, the redeeming King ! 
 
6ofe otf 
 
 (Written for " Lays o/ /i* Sanctuary. "J 
 
 should we fear to die ? 
 Has death so sharp a sting 
 That every sign which shows Him near 
 Must force a sigh, or start a tear, 
 
 And gloomy visions bring ? 
 Is there no ray from endless day, 
 To quell the Spectre Form, and light the dismal way ? 
 i 
 
 Tis painful, true ! to leave 
 
 All that we love so well : 
 Home where our young affections grew ; 
 Where love is strong, and hearts are true, 
 
 And hallow'd mem'ries dwell : 
 As silently We droop and die, 
 And feel that none can save ; no aiding hand is nigh. 
 
(Sate of tfe. 101 
 
 The best, 'tis said, go first : 
 
 So have I seen the day 
 Which brightest shone the soonest fade ; 
 Ere noon-tide came, dark clouds and shade 
 
 Took the glad light away. 
 From harm and care The young and fair 
 Depart the loved are gone ; our dream alone is there ! 
 
 Gone through the " Gate of Life," 
 
 To where the ransomed live, 
 Free from the tainting breath of sin ; 
 Where perfect rest and peace begin ; 
 
 Such as our God can give : 
 Cleans'd from each stain Then death is gain, 
 Emancipated souls in glory hence to reign. 
 
 The tyrant's spectral Form 
 
 Becomes the " Gate of Life ; " 
 Since on the Cross the Saviour shed 
 His costly blood, and for the dead 
 
 Engaged in mortal strife 
 With Death and Hell Their power to quell, 
 Till He the Victor rose, and they the vanquish'd fell. 
 
102 C&c (Sate of 
 
 Oh ! where then is thy sting, 
 
 Dread King of Terrors, where ? 
 Let faith arise and wing its way, 
 And realize eternal day, 
 
 And see the ransom'd there, 
 Who from thy might And clouded night 
 Have risen into joy, and endless realms of light. 
 
 By thee the pathway leads 
 
 Up to our home above ; 
 Thy touch is but a signal given, 
 When threads which bind to earth are riven 
 
 By God's unchanging love : 
 His hand, not thine His power divine 
 Calls up a soul from earth in blissful courts to shine. 
 
 He only wounds to heal ; 
 
 He smites that He may save ; 
 He gives to feeble faith a wing, 
 And takes from thee thy dreaded sting, 
 
 And terrors from the grave : 
 Each chosen son His warfare done, 
 Hears the triumphant shout another crown is won ! 
 
(god's 0oi?d tDmffen. 
 
 \1TITHIN Thy Holy Word 
 
 What endless love I see, 
 For Mercy, gracious Lord, 
 And Justice meet in Thee ; 
 
 Thou dost declare I need not fear, 
 If Thou art near My sin to bear. 
 
 Oh ! give me light to read 
 
 The promises divine ; 
 They meet my ev'ry need, 
 By faith they all are mine, 
 
 For Thou hast said Each hungry one, 
 May feed upon The living bread. 
 
 Then let me mark and learn, 
 
 And inwardly digest, 
 Till all my longings turn 
 To Thy most perfect rest, 
 
 When sin shall cease His darts to throw, 
 And all shall know Eternal peace. 
 
 So let me day by day, 
 
 Nearer and nearer come, 
 As faith sees far away 
 My everlasting home, 
 
 Where seraphs raise With love untold, 
 On harps of gold Unceasing praise. 
 
Che Sobbafh. 
 
 T EHOVAH'S Sabbath this 
 J The day most truly blest ; 
 A type of everlasting bliss, 
 And never broken rest. 
 
 A time for prayer and praise, 
 
 By God in mercy given, 
 Snatch'd from the world engrossing days, 
 
 To calm our souls for heaven. 
 
 Within His temple meet, 
 
 And lift the heart above ; 
 Approach His open mercy seat, 
 
 And praise Him for His Love. 
 
 Check ev'ry sinful thought, 
 
 Let earthly cares give way ; 
 Gaze on the prize that Christ has bought, 
 
 Reserv'd in endless day. 
 
 And for that prize press on, 
 
 Its glory thou shalt see, 
 When persevering faith hath won, 
 
 The final victory. 
 
S~\ LOVE from everlasting, 
 
 To everlasting known ! 
 
 Unbounded, free, unceasing, 
 
 In man's redemption shown ! 
 For Jesus suffered on the tree, 
 And died to set the sinner free. 
 
 I see the sight and tremble ; 
 
 I know the sin was mine, 
 Which made my loving Saviour 
 
 Endure this wrath divine ; 
 For Jesus suffered on the tree, 
 And died a sacrifice for me. 
 
 I feel my cold heart melted ; 
 
 I gaze upon His side 
 And sinless body broken 
 
 It was for me He died ! 
 For Jesus suffered on the tree, 
 And died a sacrifice for me. 
 
106 &gmtt for trje Institution at $cto SStcar 
 
 No more my own, for Jesus 
 Has bought me with a price ! 
 
 His precious blood my ransom, 
 His life the sacrifice ! 
 
 For He has died upon the tree, 
 
 And shed that precious blood for me. 
 
 From earthly things forbidden, 
 My selfish heart must rise ; 
 
 My life in His work hidden 
 Must press towards the prize 
 
 For Jesus died upon the tree, 
 
 And shed His precious blood for me. 
 
 Bymn 
 
 For the Institution of New Vicar, May 2gth, 1879. 
 
 ~\1TE come, O Lord, to Thee, 
 For special grace to-day ; 
 Most holy blessed Trinity 
 We for Thy servant pray ! 
 
 Clothe him with righteousness ; 
 
 Thy spirit power accord ; 
 Grant him great boldness to confess 
 
 His Master, Christ the Lord. 
 
fur fbt Institution 0f $efo ^tcar. 107 
 
 Impart the grace to teach, 
 Read, visit, watch, and pray ; 
 
 Jesus, the crucified to preach, 
 The life the truth the way. 
 
 The message of Thy love 
 
 Poor wandering souls can win 
 Salvation from the King above, 
 
 To this world dark with sin. 
 
 So may he tend and lead 
 The flock, lest any stray ; 
 
 And with unceasing labour feed 
 His people day by day. 
 
 Thy will, not his, be done, 
 So let him bear the cross ; 
 
 And for the sake of Thy dear Son, 
 Count all things else but loss. 
 
 Thy home, Lord, with us make ; 
 
 For good our hearts prepare, 
 And minister and people take 
 
 Beneath Thy loving care. 
 
fotjmn 
 
 Sung at the opening of St. Chad's New Schools, 1860. 
 
 A LMIGHTY Father send 
 
 Thy heav'nly blessing down, 
 Thy full approving presence lend 
 Our finish'd work to crown. 
 
 Incarnate Saviour take 
 
 Possession of this place ; 
 Here teach Thy little flock, and make 
 
 Them children of Thy grace. 
 
 Eternal Spirit come, 
 
 Thy quick'ning pow'r impart, 
 Create a temple for Thy home 
 
 In every youthful heart. 
 
 Descend and here remain, 
 Our light, our guide, our stay, 
 
 O'er all assert Thy gracious reign, 
 And teach us day by day. 
 
 So shall the Father's might, 
 The Saviour's boundless love, 
 
 The Spirit's watchful care and light, 
 Lead on to realms above. 
 
(Downing. 
 
 r ~PHROUGH night's deep and solemn stillness 
 
 Safely kept, my soul, arise ! 
 Lift thy voice with early praises 
 Now that morning lights the skies. 
 
 Lift thy voice in adoration 
 
 To thy God great King of kings ! 
 
 Who returning health and freshness 
 Daily to His children brings. 
 
 Raise, O Lord, my thoughts and feelings 
 Upwards with my words to Thee ; 
 
 From the world's engrossing pleasures 
 Set my tempted spirit free. 
 
 That beyond this vale of shadows 
 
 Looking from the passing day, 
 I may see the King in beauty, 
 
 And the land now far away. 
 
 And so led by brighter visions 
 
 To new hopes and life arise, 
 Earnest, self-denying, pressing, 
 
 Ever onward to the prize. 
 
(Doiming. 
 
 "\ 1THEN we awake be with us, Lord, 
 
 To lift our early thoughts to Thee ; 
 Breathe lessons from Thy Holy Word, 
 And from temptations set us free. 
 
 Be with us through our daily strife, 
 And turmoil of this world of sin ; 
 
 Keep fresh and pure the secret life 
 Which gives us mastery within. 
 
 Be with us when the freezing shade 
 Of passing years comes creeping on 
 
 When mem'ries old impressions fade, 
 And all the powers of life are gone. 
 
 Be with us in death's trying hour ; 
 
 Bid rising doubts and murmurs cease ; 
 Surround us with Thy saving pow'r, 
 
 And teach us how to die in peace. 
 
HPHE glories of the setting sun 
 Have melted in the West ; 
 The labours of the day are done, 
 And nature sinks to rest. 
 
 Through all the day, Thy care around 
 My pathway, Lord, hath been ! 
 
 Thy mercies everywhere abound, 
 Thy love in all is seen. 
 
 I come to thank Thee for that love, 
 
 My grateful voice to raise, 
 And offer for the courts above 
 
 My evening hymn of praise. 
 
 Before I lay me down to sleep 
 I bend before Thy throne, 
 
 And with contrition full and deep, 
 My sins and failings own. 
 
112 
 
 Oh ! pardon every mis-spent hour, 
 And all my deeds of wrong, 
 
 And keep me by Thy mighty power 
 Through watches dark and long. 
 
 Let me beneath Thy sheltering care 
 
 In peaceful slumber lie ; 
 Thy ever sure protection share, 
 
 And waking find Thee nigh. 
 
 ise. 
 
 "\lt7E come with adoration, 
 
 O Lord of earth and heaven, 
 To thank Thee for Thy goodness 
 
 And mercies largely given ; 
 Thy hand in all around we see 
 And lift our heartfelt praise to Thee. 
 
 Our daily food and raiment 
 
 Are Thine our health and breath ; 
 Thou shieldest us in danger, 
 
 Thou guardest us from death : 
 We raise our thoughts, O Lord, above, 
 And praise Thee for Thy boundless love. 
 
113 
 
 Day after day Thou bearest 
 With all our wayward sin ; 
 
 And day by day Thy Spirit 
 Is waging war within, 
 
 To set us from the tyrant free, 
 
 And give us final victory. 
 
 Our strength is only weakness 
 Without Thy aiding grace, 
 
 We strive in vain to conquer, 
 Or run the heav'nly race ; 
 
 Unaided we must fall and fail, 
 
 In Thee we triumph and prevail. 
 
 To Thee, Almighty Father, 
 And Thine Incarnate Son ; 
 
 To Thee Eternal Spirit, 
 
 Most glorious Three in One ; 
 
 All thanks, and praise, and glory be, 
 
 Ador'd mysterious Trinity. 
 
RHUDDLAN CASTLE. 
 
 RHUDDLAN CASTLE was built by Llewelyn ap Seisyllt, after 
 he had invaded North Wales and slain JEdan, the King, and 
 his four sons. He took possession of the kingdom, and made 
 this new castle his chief residence, but was assassinated in 1021. 
 For a time lago usurped the government, thrusting out Grufydd, 
 Llewelyn's son. In 1037, however, Grufydd slew lago, and 
 regained his father's throne, and proved himself a wise and 
 successful ruler ; but he had to flee before Harold, the Earl, 
 acting for Edward the Confessor, who invaded North Wales, 
 defeated the Welsh in several battles, and took and burned 
 Rhuddlan Castle. It was afterwards restored and held by the 
 Welsh, but in 1098 it surrendered, and came into the hands 
 of William the Conqueror. David, son of Owain Gwynedd, 
 attacked it in 1165, but he had to retire before the advance of 
 Henry II. It was, however, besieged and taken, 1167, by Owain 
 Gwynedd and his allies. It afterwards surrendered to the English, 
 who held it until 1214, when it was retaken by Llewelyn the Great. 
 It was again wrested from the Welsh by Edward I., who held 
 a Parliament there. It was finally taken and dismantled by the 
 Parliamentary forces under General Mytton, 1646. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 1. Taliesin was one of the most famous and ancient of the 
 Welsh Bards. 
 
 2. lago, the rightful heir to the sovereignty of North Wales, 
 having been set on one side on account of his youth, two rival 
 chiefs, Cynan and ^Edan, contended for the throne. ^Edan 
 proved successful. He slew Cynan in battle, A.D. 1003. 
 
 3. ^Edan did not enjoy his success very long. Llewelyn ap 
 Seisyllt, King of South Wales, invaded North Wales, slew /Edan 
 and his four sons in battle, and took possession of the kingdom. 
 This Llewelyn ap Seisyllt built Rhuddlan Castle, and made it 
 his royal residence. It is recorded that " in his time the land 
 brought forth double, that the people prospered in all their affairs, 
 and multiplied wonderfully, that the cattle increased in great 
 numbers, and that there was not a poor man in Wales." 
 
 4. There was a tradition among the Welsh people that their 
 kings were descended from Brutus, son of ^Eneas, the Trojan. 
 
 5. Meyrick, a powerful chieftain, raised a rebellion, but Llewelyn 
 defeated his forces in battle, and slew Meyrick with his own hand. 
 
 6. The people of South Wales rebelled against Llewelyn after he 
 had taken up his residence in North Wales, and set up Rhun, a 
 Scotsman of low birth, as their King. Llewelyn marched into 
 South Wales, and in a bloody battle defeated Rhun, who 
 afterwards was taken and slain. It was the custom of the Bards, 
 at the great feasts, to recount in song the exploits of their Kings 
 and Nobles. 
 
116 
 
 7. Llewelyn was assassinated by Howel and Meredydd, who set 
 up lago as King in place of Grufydd, son of Llewelyn ; but when 
 Grufydd arrived at manhood, he raised an army, and having 
 defeated and slain lago in battle, he recovered his father's throne. 
 He soon after met the united forces of the English and Danes 
 at Crosford, on the banks of the Severn, and entirely defeated 
 their forces. 
 
 8. Howel, after the murder of Llewelyn, obtained the sovereignty 
 of South Wales, but was driven out by an invasion of Grufydd. 
 Howel, however, by means of Edvvyn, brother of Leofric, Earl of 
 Chester, raised an army and marched against Grufydd. The latter 
 was again victorious. Edwyn was slain, and Howel saved himself 
 by flight. 
 
 9. Edward, the Confessor, angry with Grufydd on account of the 
 destruction of Hereford Cathedral, and the murder of the Bishop in 
 a second incursion, ordered Harold, the Earl, to invade North 
 Wales. Harold nearly surprised Grufydd in his Castle at Rhuddlan, 
 but the latter just escaped with a few of his followers by ship. 
 Disappointed at not taking Grufydd, Harold burned his castle. 
 
 10. After the death of Grufydd, Meredydd, son of Owen ap 
 Edwyn, obtained the sovereignty of North Wales. The Castle 
 of Rhuddlan was re-built, and by the command of William the 
 Norman, was strengthened and fortified. 
 
 11. David, son of Owen Gwynedd, laid waste the Vale of Clwyd, 
 A.D. 1165. He attacked Rhuddlan Castle, but had to retire before 
 the advance of King Henry. King Henry afterwards encamped 
 on the Berwyn, but had to retreat in consequence of a want of 
 supplies. 
 
 12. After the retreat of the King from the Berwyn, the forces of 
 North Wales under Owen Gwynedd ; those of South Wales under 
 
117 
 
 Rhys ap Grufydd ; and those of Powys under Owen Cyfeilioc, and 
 the sons of Madoc ap Meredydd, attacked Rhuddlan Castle, and 
 after two months' siege, took it and levelled it to the ground. 
 
 13. Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, when preaching a 
 Crusade in Wales, stayed a while at Rhuddlan Castle. 
 
 14. After the destruction of the Castle by Owen Gwynedd, it 
 came again into possession of the English, and was re-built and 
 fortified. Its defence for a time was in the hands of the Earl 
 of Chester. 
 
 15. It was taken again by Llewelyn and his brother David, 
 A.D. 1282, and they are said to have slain all the workmen they 
 found in it. 
 
 16. Edward I. made great preparations for invading Wales, and 
 issued summonses that all his military tenants should meet him 
 at Rhuddlan in the month of June. The Prelates of England, and 
 24 Abbots holding of the Crown, were included in these orders to 
 send thither their services. 
 
 17. Llewelyn was slain by Adam de Francton while trying to 
 re-join his army, which he had left for a conference in a small grove 
 near Buillt. It is supposed he had been betrayed, and the grove 
 surrounded by the enemy. 
 
 18. Penmaen Mawr was considered the strongest fortification the 
 Welsh possessed, and was capable of containing 20,000 men. 
 Dolwyddelan, a stronghold, which could only be approached on one 
 side, held out for about two years after the others, and the Knight 
 who brought the news of its fall to Rhuddlan, received a fee for his 
 trouble. 
 
 19. David, after he was" taken prisoner, was closely confined in 
 Rhuddlan Castle. He made repeated requests to be allowed to see 
 the King, but the King would not consent to an interview. 
 
118 
 
 20. Edward commanded that all the Bards in Wales should be 
 hanged by martial law, under pretence that they had incited the 
 people to sedition. Their chief seat was in Anglesea. 
 
 21. Referring to the King's promise of a Prince, "born in their 
 own country, who could not speak a word of English, and whose 
 life was free from every stain." 
 
 22. Richard the Second, on his return from Ireland, stayed a 
 short time at Rhuddlan Castle with the Earl of Northumberland, 
 before he was betrayed to his rival Bolingbroke. 
 
 The Authorities for the Notes on Rhuddlan Castle are the 
 following : Welsh Chronicle, Warrington's Hist. Wales, Brut. 
 Twysogion, Geoffrey of Monmouth, Roger de Hoveden, Matthew 
 of Westminster, Annales Cambriae, Rymer, Camden's Brit., Statute 
 of Rhuddlan, &c. 
 
 23. Rose, the youngest daughter of Mrs. Perry, of Bryn Tanat ; 
 her father died when she was quite young. When she was about 
 12 years old, she had a very severe attack of scarlet fever, and was 
 unconscious for some days. I visited her during the illness, and 
 was the first person she knew when she came to herself. We 
 afterwards became great friends, and 1 generally wrote her some 
 verses for her birthday. 
 
 24. I was returning to Killarney, one day, from the Gap of 
 Dunloe, when a friend kindly offered me a seat in his boat to cross 
 the lakes. The lines were suggested by a song his daughters sang 
 while crossing. 
 
 25. The Royal Oak, now the large Hotel, at Bettws-y-Coed, 
 was formerly only a way-side inn, with one parlour, about i4ft. 
 square, and four or five bedrooms. On one of the doors an artist 
 had drawn a woman, life-size, standing against the door with her 
 arm through the staple, to prevent the door opening ; representing 
 Lady Katherine Douglas barring the door with her arm, at Perth, 
 
1 19 
 
 against the murderers of James I. In 1851 I was at Bettws for six 
 \vviks, with my father (the Doctor), John Fogg, an ardent fisher- 
 man ; Bach, an artist ; Radford, an artist, and his pupil, Tulloch ; 
 Hallewell, a captain in the army, also a sketcher, whom I afterwards 
 saw favourably mentioned by the Times correspondent during the 
 Crimean War ; Hulme and Chattock, both artists. There was also 
 " Old " Hoyle, as he was called in a friendly way. He was formerly 
 connected with a mercantile house, but having grown too stout to 
 attend to business comfortably, his uncle allowed him an annuity. 
 He settled at Bettws, and became quite a part of the place, and 
 was known to everybody. He painted a little, freely criticized the 
 work of others, and took not unkindly to brandy and water. On 
 Sunday, when dressed in his best attire, with a flower in his button- 
 hole, he was quite a picture. David Cox, too, was there, but he 
 always had rooms at the farm. In 1851 very few tourists visited 
 Bettws, but when I went there again for a few weeks in 1866 I 
 found a great change. The Oak had been very much enlarged, 
 and there were many visitors. It was on this occasion the ascent 
 of Snowdon was made; the ladies of the party being Miss Eastlake, 
 her cousin, and a young lady friend. 
 
 26. Plas Hen. An old mansion beautifully situated at the head 
 of a glen opening down to the sea, through which runs the river 
 Dwyfach. In 1852 it was occupied by the Rev. St. George 
 Armstrong Williams, his wife, a son, St. George, and four 
 daughters, Kate, Carrie, Leonora, and Fanny. I was there at 
 the wedding of his eldest daughter, Kate. There were also 
 "Mouse," an undergraduate ; Hennie, a young lady from London, 
 and other visitors. Pen-y-Chain is a lonely barren rock, much 
 frequented by wild fowl, running out into the sea, not far from 
 Criccieth. On this we had a picnic a few days before the wedding. 
 
 27. Llangedwyn. One of the old seats of the Wynnstay family. 
 Now the residence of the Dowager Lady Williams Wynn. 
 
120 
 
 29. Mother had been away on a visit in 1878, and only returned 
 home for her birthday. Rho was a familiar name by which Mother 
 was known both before and also after marriage. 
 
 30. Minna Evadne Edwards was the little daughter of the Rev. 
 E. Edwards, Vicar of Ruabon. She died when only a little more 
 than three years old. The morning of her funeral was a bright May 
 morning, and as we passed along in solemn procession by the side 
 of Wynnstay Park, under the lofty trees just budding forth in their 
 Spring freshness, the sun shining through them, spreading light 
 and warmth and new life all around, nature seemed to have no 
 sympathy with death. The thoughts turned to the resurrection, 
 and I wrote the lines for Mrs. Edwards. She, too, has since 
 been called to her rest, mourned by the whole Parish. One of the 
 kindest and most gentle of women, she drew to herself the good-will 
 and affection of all who had the privilege of knowing her. 
 
 F. W. K. 
 
 Bayston Hill Vicarage, 
 May iqth, iSqo.