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 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES

 
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 LINKED LYRICS.
 
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 \ -4- ■<\' ~^>-- '^j^J^ 
 
 BY 
 
 MARIE ASTON. 
 
 rONGLETON : 
 
 ROBT. HEAD, HIGH STRKET. 
 LONDON : 
 
 SIMPKIN, MARSHALL Jt CO., bTATlONERs' HALL COURT. 
 MDCCCLXXXVIl.
 
 PR 
 
 4-028 
 
 A in I 
 
 DEDICATION 
 
 TO 
 
 "Oh, for the touch of a vanished hand, 
 And the sound of a voice that is still." 
 
 868850
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 T N launching this small craft on the ocean of 
 public opinion, the Author Avishes to say how 
 sincerely she appreciates the courtesy of those 
 Editors who have kindly given her permission to 
 reprint verses which have formerly appeared in 
 various Magazines. 
 
 Stafford, 
 
 June, 1887.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Victoria Ree^ina 
 
 ... 7 
 
 What shall I sing- ? 
 
 ... 8 
 
 Dreamland 
 
 ... 9 
 
 The Four Seasons... 
 
 ... 10 
 
 The Days of Old ... 
 
 ... 11 
 
 Day-dreams 
 
 ... 13 
 
 Forsaken... 
 
 ... 14 
 
 Change ... 
 
 ... 15 
 
 A Song of the Sea... 
 
 ... 16 
 
 In the Firelight ... 
 
 ... 18 
 
 The Time of Roses 
 
 ... 19 
 
 Wrecked ... 
 
 ... 20 
 
 Broken Bonds 
 
 ... 21 
 
 A long-lost Son 
 
 ... 22 
 
 Encharis ... 
 
 ... 28 
 
 Consolation 
 
 ... 24 
 
 A Life ... 
 
 ... 25
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Found dead 
 
 • • • 
 
 26 
 
 The other Side 
 
 • • • 
 
 27 
 
 Relics 
 
 • • • 
 
 27 
 
 An Old Woman's Story 
 
 • • • 
 
 28 
 
 Misunderstandings... 
 
 • • • 
 
 31 
 
 Loved and Lost 
 
 • • • 
 
 31 
 
 Lite ... ••• ••• ••> 
 
 • • • 
 
 32 
 
 The Old House 
 
 • • • 
 
 34 
 
 Seed-time and Harvest 
 
 • • • 
 
 34 
 
 A Missing Ship ... 
 
 • • « 
 
 36 
 
 The Abbot 
 
 • • • 
 
 37 
 
 The Death of Moses 
 
 « « • 
 
 39 
 
 Then and Now 
 
 • • • 
 
 40 
 
 The Valley of the Shadow ... 
 
 • • • 
 
 41 
 
 The Angels of Life, Death, and Resurrection 
 
 • • • 
 
 42 
 
 Visions ... 
 
 • • • 
 
 44 
 
 Youth and Age 
 
 • • • 
 
 45 
 
 Footprints 
 
 • • • 
 
 46 
 
 Christmas Bells 
 
 • • • 
 
 47 
 
 The Thames 
 
 • • • 
 
 48 
 
 The Wood 
 
 • » • 
 
 49 
 
 A Farewell 
 
 • • • 
 
 50 
 
 A Woman's Trust... 
 
 • • • 
 
 51
 
 VICTORIA REGINA. 
 
 Victoria Regina ! thou whose life and reign 
 
 The King of kings so gloriously prolongs, 
 
 \yhose royal name is shrined within our hearts, oh I 
 
 deign 
 To scan one more of all the loyal songs 
 A grateful ])eople hymn thee in this year of praise. 
 
 God grant thee health and holy peace while life may 
 
 last 
 A kingdom free from turmoil, war, and strife ; 
 And when thine earthly joys and sorrow's all are past, 
 The Heavenly Crown reward thy noble life, 
 The palm of victory be thine through endless days.
 
 WHAT SHALL I SING? 
 
 What shall I sing ? ah ! could I but know it ! 
 Old subjects are worn well-nigh thread-bare, 
 Each gifted bard and talented poet 
 Digs deep in the mine for jewels rare. 
 And I, late-comer, find nought below it, 
 No gem to reward my toil and care. 
 
 What shall I sing, and how shall I sing it ? 
 Oh ! would some kind power a theme impart, 
 Or some grand soul-stirring action bring it, 
 And give me the words to touch one heart. 
 Or might some silvery church-bells ring it, 
 Sounding above the noise of the mart. 
 
 What shall I sing then? a song all thrilling. 
 
 Bringing a glow to the souls of men, 
 
 Or a song of love and joy, instilling 
 
 Peace to come after the great "And then ?" 
 
 Ah ! thoughts come fast, and my heart is Avilling, 
 
 Songs on all subjects shall guide my pen.
 
 9 
 
 DREAMLAND. 
 
 From the sliaduAvy haunts of" Dreamhmd stealing', 
 
 Comes a pageant of tlie vanished Past, 
 
 For Time has closed the breacli with gifts of healing, 
 
 And all the ancient glamour round it cast. 
 
 The well-known forms come crowding round in 
 
 numbers, 
 In ne'er-forgotten scenes I live again. 
 While long-lost voices mingle with my slumbers, 
 And thrill me with a pleasure nigh to pain. 
 
 The wreathing clouds of Memory grow clcai-er. 
 The tangled web of thought imwinds apace. 
 An ever-bright'ning halo hovers nearer, 
 Encirclinfj; with its lii^-ht a well-known face ; 
 Not cold as last I saAv it, gazing blindly. 
 For through the mist of tears I scarce could see. 
 But as of old, while smiling all too kindly 
 Love's fondest look of love it wore for me. 
 
 Then with sweet echoes still around me ringing 
 I Avake : ah ! this stern Present is no dream ;
 
 10 
 
 I don its sober garb of thought, swift flinging 
 To the far distance Mem'ry's sunny gleam : 
 That, only in our visions we may cherish, 
 When dead alike to present joy or grief; 
 The Dreamland Past alone can never perish, 
 And there Ave seek, nor vainly, for relief. 
 
 THE FOUR SEASONS. 
 
 I\ Life's Spring-time with what gladness 
 Fling Ave far each thought of care ; 
 What have Ave to do Avith sadness, 
 
 When our Avorld is young and fair ? 
 Shining in the silver dawn 
 Of a violet-scented morn. 
 
 Then the Summer's full fruition 
 Brings keen joy and keener pain; 
 Burning heat of Love's tuition 
 Quenched by sorroAv-storms and rain. 
 Manhood in its haughty prime, 
 Gives no heed to fleeting Time.
 
 11 
 
 Comes the Autumn's varied sli;ulin<>', 
 Sluwly \vni}).s our hearts aruuiul ; 
 While our elierished hoj)es lie fading 
 Like dead leaves upon the ground. 
 One by one they drop away, 
 Aud iur them returns no May. 
 
 Come the Winter snow-flakes falling 
 
 Gently on the weary soul : 
 
 Hear we not a sweet voice calling- 
 
 Us to hasten to our goal ? 
 Time on its relentless wave 
 Bears us onwards to the grave. 
 
 THE DAYS OF OLD. 
 
 Sweet is the full fruition of summer's love-tuition, 
 When the sunlight of our f^mcies shines through a 
 
 golden haze ; 
 But not so sweet a story as that first flush of glory 
 That glamoured o'er our sj)irit in the far-off olden 
 
 days.
 
 12 
 
 We then were young, and therefore, we asked not 
 
 " why, or wherefore ? " 
 Believing all the legends of the fairies and the fays ; 
 The fairies now are banished, our faith has likeAvise 
 
 vanished, 
 We are so unbelieving in these new prosaic days. 
 
 We looked behind the curtain, and found out how 
 
 uncertain 
 Are the rewards of labour, the proud laurels and the 
 
 bays; 
 For when we thought to clasp them, Ave could not 
 
 even grasp them. 
 They glided off like phantoms to the realms of 
 
 bygone days. 
 
 The Avorld Avent ou unheeding; old Time was also 
 
 speed 
 
 ins:, 
 
 t>' 
 
 And not one stone was laid upon the pile we longed 
 
 to raise ; 
 First Ave Avere nigh despairing, then Ave became past 
 
 caring, 
 While farther off than CA^er seemed the dream-like 
 
 olden days.
 
 13 
 
 The way to Fame's bi-ij^ht heaven was choked with 
 
 liuman leaven, 
 Each thought resolved itself into the question '• If it 
 
 And if a man had money, like bees around their 
 
 honey, 
 Friends clustered thickly round, in his bright and 
 
 prosperous days. 
 
 Success has shadowed o'er us, and men bow down 
 
 before us, 
 Because our name is noised abroad Avith all Fame's 
 
 trumpet-blaze, 
 And now we ponder sadly, for we would give it 
 
 gladly. 
 To go back to our peaceful youth in those old golden 
 
 days. 
 
 DAY-DREAiMS. 
 
 The sound of distant bells on summer eve, 
 A recollection of some sweet dead Past, 
 The scent of sea-wccd, thus the fairies weave 
 A glamour-spell upon men's souls to cast.
 
 14 
 
 A toucli, some half-forgotten word or tone 
 Has pow<n* to draw us to a spirit-land ; 
 And there in thought we wander, less alone 
 Than when our earthly flesh clasps hand to hand. 
 
 And on tlie ocean of the great un-rest 
 
 That surges ever through this wayward life, 
 
 A subtle peace, like halcyon on nest, 
 
 Broods o'er the interval 'tween storm and strife. 
 
 FORSAKEN. 
 
 Out in the cold of December gloaming. 
 Flits a dark form across the white snow ; 
 Houseless and homeless, restlessly roaming, 
 Where, oh whither, for rest shall she go ? 
 " Elves of the river, what see ye to-night ? " 
 " A mortal encompassed by sorrow's might." 
 
 Is it men's voices carelessly mocking, 
 Or the bitter cold wind in her ears, 
 Or but a rush of memory — rocking, 
 Burdened with sounds from the bygone years.
 
 15 
 
 " Elves of the river, what see ye to-nip^ht ?" 
 "A ])()or soul tossed in a turljuk'ut fight." 
 
 Weary brain whirling, throbbing heart burning, 
 
 Oh I that those taunting voices would cease ! 
 
 Here are two roads ; w^hich then is the turning ? 
 
 Down by the river there may be peace. 
 
 " Elves of the river, what see ye to-night ? " 
 '.' A fair woman's face, floating cold and white." 
 
 CHANGE. 
 
 Long years have passed away since last Ave met, 
 We stand beneath the trysting-tree again ; 
 Both vowed at parting never to forget. 
 The waiting over, why this weary pain ? 
 All is the same that meets our vision's range. 
 The sunlight glitters through the sylvan glade, 
 We two are here; there is no outward change 
 Since as of old we lingered in this shade. 
 But you, whose passion-words came fast and free, 
 Constrain them now, and let thought idly rove. 
 Yes ! you are changed : and, shadoAved by this tree, 
 We two stand o'er the grave of buried love.
 
 16 
 A SONG OF THE SEA. 
 
 OvEE the restless Ocean, 
 Rises the Evening Star, 
 Shines on its ceaseless motion, 
 Shines on the harbour-bar. 
 
 On the blue wavelets tossing, 
 Hovers a tiny boat ; 
 Then the horizon crossing, 
 None other is afloat. 
 
 Naught but the sea seems moving, 
 Ever in deep unrest. 
 O'er the once-lov'd and loving, 
 Dead 'neath her mighty breast. 
 
 Tossing the tangled tresses, 
 Laving the cold white hands, 
 Moved erewhile in caresses 
 Which now clasp yellow sands. 
 
 Over the quiet faces. 
 Over the still dead feet, 
 Now resting from their paces 
 Along the busy street.
 
 17 
 
 Miiiiy a lieart wil(l-l)catinf!^ 
 The sea hatli hushed to rest; 
 From many a ghad meeting 
 Hath filched the Avelcome guest. 
 
 Some who vowed ne'er to sever, 
 Lie 'midst her corals red ; 
 Parted ever and ever, 
 Till she " gives np her dead." 
 
 Over her victims rolling, 
 Her blue waves surge and swell, 
 Crowning an endless tolling, 
 A dirge-like passing-bell. 
 
 Now the pale moonbeams stealing 
 With silver crown the waves, 
 Flowing along unfeeling 
 Over the countless graves. 
 
 When will it end its groaning. 
 When Avill the weary rest ? 
 Peace to the mournful moaning I 
 " In coelo quies est."
 
 18 
 IN THE FIRELIGHT. 
 
 Drifting along like a rapid river, 
 Passing like dreams in the morning light ; 
 Countless as aspen leaves when they shiver, 
 The strange thoughts thronging o'er me to-night. 
 
 Brought from the Past Avhence is no returning. 
 Culled from the ages for ever gone ; 
 Touched sometimes Avith the bitter heart burning 
 Uppermost now in the present lone. 
 
 Now and again comes a ghostly glimmer 
 
 Of faces lost for many a year. 
 
 Which, while I gaze, becortie faint and dimmer, 
 
 Never again shall I see them near. 
 
 Out on the streets the joy-bells are ringing 
 The same sweet notes as in olden times. 
 Many a thought to my tired heart bringing, 
 Besides the message of Christmas chimes. 
 
 Visions of days when a faith I cherished, 
 Unwitting then of this world's cold creed, 
 Then of a time when that trust had perished. 
 Leaning too long on a broken reed.
 
 1!) 
 
 All past iiiid over the restless roaming, 
 Dull fruition succeeding desire ; 
 I sit alone in the (juic't gloaming, 
 Weaving my web of thought by the fire. 
 
 THE TIME OF ROSES. 
 
 Summer time had passed away, 
 
 And yet Love lingered on. 
 
 Then a drear November day 
 
 Fonnd one sweet maid alone. 
 
 Through the woods she heard Love's song, 
 
 " Never, never, stay I long, 
 
 Save in the time of roses." 
 
 " He Avill come again " she said, 
 " When Winter days are here ; " 
 But the Winter came and fled. 
 And Love did not appear. 
 Said she sadly, " Nevermore 
 Can return the days of yore. 
 It was my time of roses."
 
 20 
 
 But when Summer came again, 
 
 Love followed laughing too ; 
 
 At the sight sad grief and pain 
 
 Away together flew. 
 
 " Now," quoth Love, " I come to stay, 
 
 Prithee send me not aAvay, 
 
 This is our time of roses." 
 
 WRECKED. 
 
 Wildly the storm-wind howls over the sea, 
 Decking the dark Avaves with wreathes of white foam, 
 Wafting it far on the shivering lea. 
 In cold salt-spray gusts to our island home. 
 
 Dimly the fishing-smacks loom on the shore. 
 Surely the " Molly Bawn " 's not in her place ! 
 Oh ! that the darkness would lift, and once more 
 I might catch a glimpse of a well-known face. 
 
 Is that a ship beating out on the bar. 
 
 The vessel that owns my Denis for mate ? 
 
 " The Lifeboat ! " " 'Twere maducss to venture so far." 
 
 God's pity on those who must stand and Avait !
 
 21 
 
 Nought but bhick darkness ; the blealv wind and spray 
 Wrappings me round like a eloak as I stand ; 
 But far better that than the ^-luring day, 
 And the cokl dead body it brought to land. 
 
 BROKEN BONDS. 
 
 A LONKLV taiii upon a mountain-side, 
 Waveless and lying ever deep and still ; 
 So motionless it might for aye abide, 
 Kept silent by its own relentless will. 
 A start — a slii\er — the tarn has risen, 
 And it turns down the mountain side to flee, 
 The long pent-up force has burst its prison. 
 It glides away now to the boundless sea. 
 
 A lonely soul out in the cold of life. 
 Knowing not where to tui-n for friendship sweet; 
 What wonder it should weary of the strife, 
 Longing to rest the torn and bruised feet ? 
 But for it, like the tarn, there comes a day, 
 A refuge haven to which it inav flee, 
 And a ]»ure white soul wings forth on its way 
 To the distant shores of Eternity.
 
 '22 
 
 A LONG-LOST SON. 
 
 Will he come in the gloaming, when birds are home- 
 ward roaming, 
 
 When flowers give forth their incense, and the night 
 grows cool and chill ; 
 
 Or in the early morning, when eastern light is 
 dawning. 
 
 And every songster trying which can give the 
 sweetest trill ? 
 
 Years more than I can number, but hope doth not 
 
 yet slumber. 
 Have sauntered past me slowly, since I watched him 
 
 from this door ; 
 Sad thoughts come oft up-springing, I hear wild 
 
 echoes ringing, 
 " Wait not, O weary mother, he will come to thee no 
 
 more." 
 
 I go on hoping, fearing, and wait for his appearing. 
 My eyes are dim with watching, but I'll see him from 
 afar ;
 
 2:i 
 
 In the wiiulow there's ii li<^ht, shining- ch-ar and far 
 
 at night, 
 No matter when he conietli, he shall find the p^ate ajar. 
 
 So whether in the g^loamln"' that homewards he comes 
 
 roamini^, 
 Or in the silent starli<i'ht when I hear each lightest 
 
 breath, 
 I'll watch, however weary, I'll wait, however dreary, 
 But oh ! my son, come qnickly, lest my heart be cold 
 
 in death. 
 
 EUCHARIS. 
 
 Oil ! Eucharis, my pnre ])ale lily-flower, 
 Mv little babe with snow-white face ; and eyes 
 Of deep dark blue, as when a passing shower 
 Hath cleared away the clouds from summer skies. 
 
 Fair Eucharis, my maid of eighteen years, 
 All shyly listening to words of love : 
 Coming to me with tender haj)py tears. 
 Content if only 1 her choice approve.
 
 24 
 
 SAveet Eucliaris, by thy flower-strewn coucli I stand, 
 God's Hand liatli gathered thee, and I must bow ; 
 Full meet wert thou to join the Angel-band, 
 Ne'er didst thou look so pure and white as noio. 
 
 CONSOLA TION. 
 
 Ah ! how vain the weary longing 
 For the joys of bygone days ; 
 Vain the bitter tears that, thronging. 
 Hide the present from our gaze. 
 
 In the Past we love to linger 
 
 For the Present is so lone ; 
 
 Till our hearts, beneath Time's finger. 
 
 Beat to rest against a stone. 
 
 Vain the fancy, oft returning, 
 " Could we live the Past again ! " 
 While the might-have-been is burning 
 Words of fire across our brain. 
 
 Oh ! ye stricken ones and weary, 
 Will nought soothe your wild unrest ? 
 Look around ! all is not dreary, 
 And " whatever is, is best."
 
 25 
 
 A LIFE. 
 
 " Not for lonf^' sliall "vvf ])C parted, 
 Trust in me wliate'er you hear ; 
 Think of me as all true-hearted, 
 Till again you see me near." 
 
 Thus he spoke, and left her standing 
 Sad and lonely on the shore, 
 Till she slowly crossed the landing. 
 Turned her face to home once more. 
 
 There through years of silent sorrow, 
 Calm and true she waited on ; 
 Waited for that glad to-morrow 
 To illume the darkness gone. 
 
 Came at last the fatal letter 
 Telling of a far-off grave 
 Where he, who did ne'er forget her. 
 Low was laid by comrades brave. 
 
 Then we see her lonely crossing 
 T'wards the East the ocean main, 
 Finding in the tempest-tossing 
 Some relief from weary pain.
 
 26 
 
 And the peace she sought came o'er her 
 As she stood beside his grave ; 
 For she saw her work before her, 
 Sick to tend and souls to save. 
 
 'Midst the wounded and the dying 
 Moved she like an angel blest, 
 Till a stray shot, aimless Hying, 
 Oped for her the way to rest. 
 
 ''FOUND DEAD." 
 
 Only a fair and well-remembered face, 
 Yet half-strange in its look of sudden peace ; 
 The sweet lips smiling with the softened grace 
 That comes to many when life-troubles cease. 
 
 Tired feet that in old days were wont to lurk 
 With stronger ones along the quiet lane ; 
 Two little hands set free from toil and work, 
 A weary worn-out heart at rest from pain. 
 
 So fair, so young, so weary, and so dead, 
 Upon our souls some longing wonders throng ; 
 Shall we knoAv thcc again, if over-head 
 We meet in the Eternal Land of Song.
 
 THE OTHER SIDE. 
 
 Aftek the hiirdcn of sin iiml life, 
 The lonfi-iiiii- for something more, 
 Wrecked on tlu' sorrow and care and strife, 
 Liirkinii; like rocks near the shore. 
 After the toiling- for things denied. 
 We shall find rest on the other side. 
 
 Rest heyond all Ave can know or think 
 In these gloomy hours of night ; 
 We stand at last on the river's brink, 
 And gaze on the dazzling Light. 
 Life's bark sails joyously with the tide, 
 We shall find rest on the other side. 
 
 RELICS. 
 
 Look them over! time-Avorn letters. 
 Read so oft in days of yore ; 
 Hair that bound in silken fetters, 
 Adding now to memory-store.
 
 28 
 
 Scented flowers, love-language SAveetest, 
 Telling of affection true ; 
 Burn tlieni all I it noAv were meetest 
 To hoard up dead leaves and rue. 
 
 Shrivelled now each faded token, 
 Love-locks curling in the flame ; 
 Vows made only to be broken. 
 Are not worthy of the name. 
 
 AN OLD WO 31 AN' S STORY. 
 
 You wonder why should linger, unhealed by Time's 
 
 soft finger. 
 The mem'ry of a sorroAv that has saddened all my 
 
 life ? 
 Come hither, child, and hearken ; while evening 
 
 shadoAvs darken, 
 I'll tell you Avhy, through all these years, no man has 
 
 called me wife. 
 
 I was a village maiden, my foolish head o'erladen 
 With visions and romances from the days of long ago;
 
 29 
 
 When n^.'illauts yay and kiii<j,litl}' would i)t'ril lil'c i'ull 
 
 lio-litly, 
 For favour of some lady careless risking^ weal or woe. 
 
 I had a sailoi- lovei', and no'or did hiintino^ cover 
 A truer or a braver lad ; his like I'll never see; 
 But when he came a-praying, to wed me In the 
 
 Maying, 
 I told hhn I would find a test to ])rove his love for me. 
 
 His look of joy and gladness gave way to honest 
 
 sadness, 
 " True love requires no test, my lass ! fine words I 
 
 cannot say : 
 I come of simple seamen, but none of Nature's gleemen 
 E'er made a truer love than mine the theme of courtly 
 
 lay." 
 
 But vain was all his pleading ; I turned away 
 
 imheeding ; 
 " Unless," said I, " you give me proof, Avith you I 
 
 will not wed. 
 I ask no deed of daring, but If for me you're caring. 
 Then cross the sea, and bring to me some beads of 
 
 coral red."
 
 50 
 
 Next noon till daylight faded, with face all sorrow- 
 shaded, 
 
 For already I repented, I watched them leave the bay ; 
 
 I saw the good ship sailing, my heart within me failing, 
 
 Lest he whom I had banished, should return no more 
 for aye. 
 
 Long months passed slowly o'er us, and then again 
 
 before us 
 We saw the vessel coming in, and raised a shout of joy ; 
 Then all together banding we hastened to the landing, 
 1 laughing at my foolish fears about my sailor boy. 
 
 But all my eager gazing found not his head upraising, 
 Then sadly one stepped forward when the men had 
 
 come to land. 
 And told how they had left him, when Death of Life 
 
 bereft him. 
 Laid lowly in a lonely grave on a far distant strand. 
 
 And how when he was dying, in pain and sorrow lying, 
 He gave to them these coral beads, and with his latest 
 
 breath. 
 Charged them to take them duly, to her he loved so 
 
 truly ; 
 Ah me I to gratify my pride, I sent him to his death.
 
 31 
 MIS UNDER S TA NDING S. 
 
 A iiosv riiisli utliwurt the westeru sky, 
 The distant murnnir of a woodland stream, 
 A orlimpse tliroiiiih lnterla(ring branches hio;h, 
 Of fleecy gold-edged clouds and sunset gleam. 
 
 Two lovers whispering by a rustic stile, 
 Where other loves were told in bygone years ; 
 A girl who kept her tryst with glad sweet smile, 
 And went from thence Avith bitter heartfelt tears. 
 
 A few short words, and spoken half in jest, 
 But they let loose a flood of jealous fear, 
 " Since thus vou think, it niii>ht for both be best, 
 That we should part for ever, now, and here." 
 
 The sunlight fades, and all is grey and chill, 
 With backAvard looks the twain move separate ways, 
 One down the vale, the other up the hill. 
 To meet as strangers henceforth, all their days. 
 
 LOVED AND LOST. 
 
 The grass was green and dry, love, 
 And bright the purple heather,
 
 32 
 
 The day that you and I, love, 
 First trod these hills together. 
 You watched the sunset glowing 
 Behind the mountain peak, 
 / only saw the flowing 
 Of lovelight to your cheek. 
 
 The heath is sodden wet, love. 
 And Autumn leaves are falling, 
 But here I linger yet, love. 
 The sweet sad Past recalling, 
 My heart and I are lonely. 
 And still no love I crave, 
 For thine that I prized only 
 Lies with thee in the grave. 
 
 LIFE. 
 
 Life — a hook of once blank pages, 
 A beginning, but no end, 
 Written on by countless sages. 
 Who, like meteors, lustre lend.
 
 33 
 
 They too, \ aiiisli. l)iit their Lrl'»rv 
 Lini>;ers to the end of Time, 
 They may perish, but their story 
 Lives again in prose and rhyme. 
 
 For on them the early dawning 
 Of Immortal Genius shone; 
 And for them the veil of morning 
 Lifted o'er the darkness gone. 
 
 We but gaze with ceaseless longing 
 That we too, might make a name, 
 'Midst the thousands ever thronging 
 On the road that leads to Fame. 
 
 Yet our time is not all wasted. 
 It is noble to aspire, 
 Though success may ne'er be tasted, 
 Nought but Failure meet desire. 
 
 Though we fail, each lofty feeling 
 Lifts us higher than the past. 
 May-be Fortune, justice dealing. 
 Brings us to our goal at last.
 
 34 
 THE OLD HOUSE. 
 
 I SEE the old house standing grandly solemn, 
 For from the mnllioned windows shines no light, 
 While buttress deep and ivy-covered cohimn 
 Loom forth into the darkness of the night. 
 
 I see once more the dear old-fashioned garden 
 All bright and gay with many-coloured flowers, 
 While in the midst the sun-dial, grim old warden. 
 Reminds me mockingly of vanished hours. 
 
 I see thine eyes with teardrops brightly glisten 
 As when we parted on that summer day ; 
 I see — but hark ! a hidden voice : I listen, 
 " The day breaks and the shadows flee away." 
 
 SEED TIME AND HARVEST. 
 
 All among the sweet white violets, the young leaves 
 
 and the lambs, 
 Nature, our minds included, of a bright and verdant 
 
 green ;
 
 . 3o 
 
 For in youth we are Life's "fresh-men," and as for 
 
 any shams, 
 We leave them to those knowing ones who go beliind 
 
 tlie scene. 
 
 All among the roses, feathery meadow-sweet and dust. 
 Nature becoming more mature, ourselves a trifle wise; 
 'Tis not because we try to be, perforce l)ecause we must, 
 When once the scales <jf innocence drop from oin* 
 youthful eyes. 
 
 All among the juicy fruit, the rod poppies and the corn, 
 Nature in joyous gladness, our poor selves a little sad; 
 The gilt is otf the Gingerbread we bought at early 
 
 morn, 
 And we try to hide its bareness, pretending Ave are glad. 
 
 All among the holly green, robin redbreasts, and the 
 
 snow, 
 Nature all silvered over, like our own hair, very 
 
 white ; 
 We are li:i])py on the whole ; 'tis a good world as 
 
 worlds go. 
 But it will not now be long ere 'tis time to say "good 
 
 night."
 
 36 
 
 A MISSING SHIP. 
 
 What scenes of liorror liang around the words ! 
 Visions of hunger, madness, jjain, and thirst 
 Pierce through the hearts of friends like very swords, 
 Who sadly sit at home and fear the worst ; 
 Picturing to themselves the mortal strife 
 Too surely raging on the distant main, 
 Where every man is struggling for dear life, 
 With little hope of seeing land again. 
 
 Without a thought of fear they sailed away. 
 
 The gallant ship with all her canvas spread, 
 
 Nor guessed it was their last course through the bay, 
 
 Or that they went a voyage to the dead. 
 
 And now the lovely cruel sea looks fair. 
 
 But they will cross the blue salt waves no more, 
 
 Nor tended be with ceaseless loving care, 
 By all those grieving watchers on the shore. 
 
 Who shade their sun-dazed eyes with weary hand. 
 And seaward gaze with nervous trembling lip, 
 If haply any boat that nears the strand • 
 
 May bring them tidings of the missing ship.
 
 37 
 
 At last the Aveary vigil has an end, 
 " Lost, with all hands on board," the verdict comes, 
 And with the passing strength despair may lend, 
 They sadly seek theii- now-deserted homes. 
 
 THE ABBOT. 
 
 Upon a sea-srirt isle in ancient times 
 
 There stood a Monastery, old and grey 
 
 Its wave-defying Avails and towers, and Avashcd 
 
 By ocean spray. Within it, holy men 
 
 Their vigils kept and daily jDraises sang. 
 
 Upon them there had fallen a great grief; 
 
 The death of their good Abbot. It Avas tlms : 
 
 The bell rang out for matins, and the soimd 
 
 Of distant chant Avas borne upon the air. 
 
 As nearer the procession came, vmtil 
 
 The monks passed through the doorAvay, one by one. 
 
 Hushed Avas the chant as on their knees they fell. 
 
 Then in a minute more, in glorious tones. 
 
 The organ ])ealed ; the restless sea outside 
 
 Kept up a constant moaning ; Avhile the monks
 
 38 
 
 With deep rich voices sang the De Profundis. 
 And one there was, the noblest of them all, 
 With pale sad face and eyes that seldom smiled, 
 Upon whose brow a Heavenly jieace was throned, 
 As one who knew he soon should win his rest. 
 And knowing, triumphed. Ever and anon 
 He pressed his hand upon his heart, as though 
 He sought to quell an oft-recurring pain. 
 " Kyrie Eleison," the grand notes rang out 
 Up to the vaulted roof; he raised his head, 
 And gazed upon the golden Altar Cross 
 As if he fain would pierce the veil beyond. 
 " Christe Eleison," and a look of joy 
 Gave an unearthly beauty to his face. 
 And when the last sweet note had ceased he bowed 
 His head upon his hands as though in prayer. 
 But when they came to raise him, he was dead. 
 
 • •••••••, 
 
 'Tis evening, and the Chapel stands in gloom, 
 Dark shadows fall upon the darker floor : 
 Before the Altar on a bier he lies, 
 Shrouded with velvet pall ; his noble face 
 Transfigured by a smile, his thin white hands
 
 39 
 
 Crossed on liis breast as though he still woulrl ]iray. 
 But see ! a ray of silver moonlight steals 
 Through the large window of rich stained glass, 
 And in a many^-coloured glory falls 
 Upon the dead man's face. Tlien it ex])ands 
 Through the whole Chapel : chancel, choir, and nave 
 Are flooded Avith its radiance ; carvings, 
 Sculptured wreathings stand out clear as daylight. 
 The blaze of glory fades ; slowly the light 
 Recedes, and all again is cold and grey, 
 Save for the ray which lingers in the East, 
 And flickers on his face, as though to guard 
 The earthly remnant of the mighty dead. 
 
 THE DEATH OF MOSES. 
 
 Not renoAvned in Scripture story 
 Is the place where Moses dies ; 
 Nor surrounded with earth-glor}', 
 God alone knows where he lies, 
 Somewhere 'mongst the mountains hoary, 
 'Neath the sunny Eastern skies.
 
 40 
 
 There the Jewish Leader, sleeping, 
 Waits the last dread trumpet sound ; 
 Till the angels, harvest-reaping. 
 Gather in the dead around. 
 An Eternal Eye is keeping 
 Watch upon the unknown ground. 
 
 He, the promised Land foretasting 
 From the heights, before his death, 
 To a better Land was hasting. 
 As he drew his latest breath. 
 Not alone ; the Everlasting 
 Mighty Arms were underneath. 
 
 THEN AND NOW. 
 
 Not from out the earthquake crashes, 
 Nor amid the fiery flashes. 
 Spake God to Elijah's soul; 
 But a still small voice of healing, 
 Soothing each rebellious feeling, 
 O'er his weary spirit stole.
 
 41 
 
 Not with sounds of mifjhty thunders, 
 Not with ;iwe-insj)iriu<;' woudcrs, 
 Shows He us the narrow way; 
 But with Avords of solemn warning 
 Leads us onward to the dawning 
 Of the Great Eternal Day. 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 
 
 Through tlic dark shadow valley I am hasting, 
 And all my past life fadeth like a dream, 
 The while my fevered pulses, rapid wasting. 
 Beat fainter as I near Death's narrow stream. 
 I see its icy waters dimly glisten, 
 A terror seizes me, I fain would flee, 
 But then I hear a voice, and turning, listen ; 
 'Tis Death's dark Angel speaking unto me : 
 "Take thou mine hand, and cross the flood beside 
 
 me. 
 And in my grasp I'll bear thee quickly o'er. 
 And whatsoever peril shall betide thee 
 Shall seem as nought when thou hast reached tlic 
 
 shore."
 
 42 
 
 Then soft and slow the cold flood closes o'er me, 
 And wraps me in its gloomy hues of night, 
 But now the Golden City shines before me, 
 And. I shall soon be safe within its light. 
 
 THE ANGELS OF LIFE, DEATH, AND 
 RESURRECTION. 
 
 Musing, I sat beside a running stream. 
 
 When sleep came to me with a strange sweet dream. 
 
 I rested on a cloud of burnished gold, 
 There came a sense of hidden presence o'er me, 
 And, looming through the mist that did enfold, 
 Three shining figures stood at last before me. 
 
 Clad in pure robes of stainless dazzling whiteness, 
 With folded wings that told of present peace ; 
 Scarce could I bear the glory and the brightness, 
 Then rose a voice ; I moved not till its cease. 
 
 "Angel of. Life am I," it said, "and ever 
 I guide the failing steps of mortal men.
 
 43 
 
 From cradle to the <>^rave wliose portals sever 
 All earthly ties aucl ho])es from earthly keu. 
 My luiuds receive all doles of joy or sorrow, 
 Love, hope, and rest, or anguish, grief, and pain, 
 Whiche'er He Avills to deal, till that Great Morrow 
 Shall show how much was loss, and how much gain." 
 
 Then stepped the second forth with cold slow tone, 
 " Some time, each man must stand with me alone, 
 For I am Death's dark Angel, and my power 
 Extends o'er mortals in the last dread hour. 
 And some upon me fain their doors would close ; 
 It matters not ; I needs must visit those 
 To whom He wills to send Who knoweth best ; 
 But some receive me as a welcome guest." 
 
 Then came upon me a dim recollection 
 
 I knew the third who stood before mine eyes : 
 
 It was the Angel of the Kesurrection, 
 
 Who last addressed me in this wondrous guise. 
 
 " On the glorious Resurrection morning. 
 When parted souls and bodies meet again, 
 I shall be there to lead them to the dawning 
 Of endless peace and love, or endless pain,
 
 44 
 
 Not mine the Hand, wliicli shall, their sentence 
 
 dealing, 
 Place them in heights of Heaven or depths of hell, 
 But mine to bring them to the Great Unsealing 
 Which shall decide their fate — till then, farewell." 
 
 I woke ; to the far distance fled my dream. 
 And still I mused beside the rapid stream. 
 
 VISIONS. 
 
 Does the thought of scented heather 
 Ever pass across thj mind ? 
 Azure skies and sunny weather 
 From the days left far behind. 
 Dost thou think of that fair river 
 On whose banks we walked of yore, 
 Or of that low-breathed " for ever ! " 
 Lasting just a year — no more ! 
 
 Or hast thou in drinking madly 
 Of that other Lethe stream, 
 All forgotten .^ slowly, sadly. 
 It receded into a dream.
 
 45 
 
 Day by day and widening^ ever, 
 Our paths jirow more far apart, 
 Mine lies by the quiet river. 
 Thine, Avithiu the busy mart. 
 
 Never more by pathways shaded, 
 
 Shall we wander hand in hand, 
 
 While the rose leaves, now all faded, 
 
 Shower round us where w^e stand. 
 
 And do I regret ? I know not, 
 
 For whatever is, is best ; 
 
 Shall I e'er forget ? I troAv not, 
 
 Till earth's storm-tossed hearts shall rest. 
 
 YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 Ah ! how sweet Life's young romances, 
 Starry nights, the moon's soft beams. 
 When the love-light from our fancies 
 Casts a halo o'er our dreams. 
 
 Sad it is that in old age. 
 
 Blots should stain the once fair page.
 
 46 
 
 In Life's journey, cares increasing 
 Swallow up maturer years. 
 Life is but a round unceasing, 
 Made of loves and hopes and fears. 
 Late, the old man, looking back, 
 SorroAvs over youth's lost track. 
 
 FOOT-PRINTS. 
 
 Footsteps are for ever fleetino- 
 On the shifting sands of Life, 
 Sometimes passing, sometimes meeting. 
 Thronging to the endless strife. 
 
 * 
 
 .Long-lost sounds of angel voices 
 Mingle with the busy stream, 
 And the aching heart rejoices 
 Even though it be a dream. 
 
 Though the " madding crowd " divides us, 
 Lost ones seem so very near. 
 And we think, whate'er betides us. 
 We will keep their memory dear.
 
 47 
 
 But tlie world, in roiiiid unceasing, 
 Draws us ever far away, 
 And our j;rief, while unappeasing. 
 May wait till another day. 
 
 CHRISTMAS BELLS. 
 
 I LEAN from out my lattice in the night, 
 To hear the song of joyous happy bells, 
 That story of glad tidings ; the true Light 
 Which even finds its way to prison cells. 
 
 To you is born 
 
 This happy morn, 
 A Saviour who will guard you in the fight. 
 
 Heedless of cold, or icy frost and snow^, 
 1 watch the ceaseless tide of city life. 
 And suddenly I hear from far below, 
 The distant echoes of some quarrel rife. 
 
 The bells say " Cease ! " 
 
 He is True Peace, 
 Your Saviour came not to brinii; war and strife.
 
 48 
 
 If lingers any illwill from the Past, 
 
 Uproot it all, and let it aye be gone. 
 
 How, 'neath the Eye of Him can quarrels last, 
 
 Who prayed His Father to forgive men's scorn ? 
 
 The bells still ring. 
 
 The Angels sing, 
 And peace and joy reign on this Christmas morn. 
 
 THE THAMES. 
 
 Oh ! cold and cruel calmly-flowing river, 
 Bearing rich-freighted vessels to the sea ; 
 I gaze on thee until an icy shiver 
 Creeps like a growing terror over me. 
 
 How many souls hast lured to their destruction ? 
 Blackened and stained by city toil and crime. 
 To lie forgotten till the Resurrection 
 Shall show them doomed, or happy for all Time. 
 
 How many songs of sinful mirth and gladness 
 Have floated o'er thee in the dim dark night ? 
 How many prayers of patient heartfelt sadness 
 From weary workers toiling t'wards the light.
 
 49 
 
 Majestic, brilliant, world-famed, mighty river. 
 Gliding ])ast stately homes and verdant lawns. 
 Upon whose banks the reeds and rnshes quiver, 
 And songsters carol soon as morning dawns. 
 
 ?5 
 
 Some of those lordly halls by which you linger 
 Are full of all that makes a " Home, sweet home, 
 Love, happiness, the theme of song and singer, 
 'Midst treasures brought from many a foreign dome. 
 
 Then still flow on, oli I lovely two-faced river! 
 
 Let city-toilers live their troubles down ; 
 
 In this world, sweet and bitter mingle ever, 
 
 " God made the country, and man made the town." 
 
 THE WOOD. 
 
 Ami I) the trees. Spring-clad in robes of green, 
 T wander aimlessly in happy mood. 
 Looking with tender eyes upon the scene. 
 It is so fresh and fair, this English wood.
 
 50 
 
 Comes summer time, and as in other days, 
 I stroll beneath tall trees, and spreading bough, 
 But one is with me, and on her I gaze, 
 I do not heed the sylvan glories now. 
 
 Once more I wander sadly all alone. 
 
 Rich brilliant colours hover all around, 
 
 I see them through a mist ; my love is gone, 
 
 I walk in dreams, with eyes fixed on the ground. 
 
 Then winter comes ; I pace the wood again. 
 Trying to ease the dull, yet aching, smart ; 
 The bare brown wind-tossed branches mock my 
 
 pain, 
 'Tis winter in the wood, and in my heart. 
 
 A FAREWELL. 
 
 Drifting, ah! drifting out of this sweet life, 
 In the bright Spring, with all so fresh and fair. 
 The dewy morning breeze with incense rife. 
 While song-birds with glad carols fill the air,
 
 And I must leave it all, ah me! and frlide 
 Down the dark stream to the deep shades of 
 
 Life's current ebbing slowly with the tide, 
 Until " at eventime, it shall be light." 
 
 And thou, mine own sweet one, I sadly think 
 How hard it is to part and leave thee here. 
 Lay thy dear hand in mine, for on the brink 
 Of icy floods I stand, and Death is near. 
 
 As the sun sets in the far crimson west. 
 My bark will merge into the trackless sea, 
 And then my world-worn spirit shall find rest 
 On the bright shores of an Eternity. 
 
 A WOMAN'S TRUST. , 
 
 They stood at the gate till the hour waxed late, 
 
 And the time of parting drew near ; 
 
 Full well might they stand ; he would clasp her 
 
 hand 
 No more for many a year.
 
 52 
 
 " 'Tis Kismet," she said, and bowed her head, 
 As she thought of the lonely days 
 That must come and pass, like leaves on the grass, 
 Before she would meet his gaze. 
 
 And how the time flew, she never quite knew. 
 But at last the meeting drew nigh ; 
 With love-lighted face, she went to the place, 
 To watch fijr his j^assing-by. 
 
 And at length he came, but ah ! that such shame 
 Should rest on man's honour and life ; 
 For a love more fair he brought with him there. 
 And he called this last one " loife ! "
 
 R. HEAD, PRINTER, HIGH STREET, CONGLETON.
 
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