•"% -x. Vb?=: 1-^ l_3 iVj'aU'> MV >i , r ~ i I f r (- s ^ ^ ''t^Aovcaiia'' ■ (-'/ ^^^\[UNI' '-■■'■■ ^ ■'J ij.ji 3> Z. O I..: T C -/ja^AiNiij^^^ .^^ ^. . «- I mn • id ^OFCAIIFO/?^ ^lOSANCElfj> 1^ .««*. -:^ .>:lOSANCElfj> i^^ ^ILIBR, iU(?l 33 %OJI1V3-J0>^ .«;,OFCAIIFO% K.||>\iM(;fl)rf LEGENDS AND LYEICS. LEGENDS AND LYRICS. % ioflk of ^tXBtS BY ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER. NEW YORK: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 346 & 348 BROADWAY. 1858. CONTENTS Pago The Angel's Story . . . . . .9 Echoes ....... 19 A False Genius . . . , , . .20 My Picture ....... 22 Judge not . . . . . . .25 Friend Sorrow ...... 26 One by One . . . . . . .28 True Honours ...... 30 A Woman's Question . . . . . .42 The Three Kulers ...... 45 A Dead Past . ... . . .46 A Doubting Heart ...... 48 A Student . . . . . . .50 A Knight Errant ...... 52 Linger, oh, gentle Time . . . . . .55 Homeward Bound ...... 56 Life and Death . . . . . . .67 Now . . . . " . - . .69 654947 6 CONTENTS. Page Cleansing Fires . . . . . . .71 The Voice of the Wind . . . . .72 Treasures . . . . . . . .75 Shining Stars ....... 77 Waiting ........ 79 The Cradle Song of the Poor .... 82 Be Strong ....... 85 God's Gifts 86 A Tomb in Ghent 89 The Angel of Death 102 A Dream 104 The Present ....... 106 Changes ....... 103 A Lament for the Summer .... 109 Strive, AVait, and Pray Ill The Unknown Grave . . . . .112 Give me thy Heart ...... 114 The Wayside Inn ...... 118 Voices of the Past ...... 127 The Dark Side . . . ' • • • 129 A First Sorrow ....... 131 Murmurs .....•• 133 Give . ...... 135 My Journal ....••• 137 A Chain 1^1 The Pilgrims ...... 144 Incompleteness ...•••• 145 A Legend of Bregenz ..... 147 A Farewell 156 CONTENTS. 7 Prge Sowing and Reaping ..... 157 The Storm ...... 159 Words . . . .101 A Love Token ...... 1G3 A Tryst with Death . . . . . .165 Fidelis 107 A Shadow . . . . . . .169 The Sailor Boy 170 A Crown of Sorrow ...... 189 The Lesson of the War ..... 190 The Two Spirits . . . . . .193 A Little Longer ...... 199 Grief . . . . . . . .202 The Triumph of Time ..... 207 A Parting . . . . . . .208 The Golden Gate ...... 211 Phantoms ....... 213 Thankfulness ...... 215 Home-sickness ....... 217 Wishes ....... 219 The Peace of God ...... 222 Life in Death and Death in Life .... 224 Recollections ....... 229 Illusion •■...... 232 A Vision ........ 234 Pictures in the Fire ..... 237 The Settlers ....... 240 Hush! ....... 243 Hours . . . . . . . .245 o CONTENTS. Page The Two Interpreters ..,,.. 24S Comfort . , . . . . . 251 Home at Last ....... 254 Unexpressed . . , ... . .256 Because . . . ... , , . 258 Rest at Evening . , . . . . 260 A Retrospect ....... 262 THE AKGEL'S STORY. Through the blue and frosty heavens, Christmas stars were shinmg bright ; Glistening lamps through the great City Almost matched their gleaming hght ; While the winter snow was lymg, And the winter winds were sighing, Long ago one Christmas night. While from every tower and stee^Dle, Peahng bells were sounding clear, (Never with such tones of gladness. Save when Christmas time is near,) Many a one that night was merry Who had toiled through all the year. 10 THE angel's story. That night saw old wrongs forgiven, Fi'iends, long parted, reconciled; Voices aU unused to laughter, Mournful eyes that rarely smiled, Trembling hearts that feared the morrow, From their anxious thoughts beguiled. Rich and poor felt love and blessing From the gracious season fall ; Joy and jjlenty in the cottage, Peace and feasting in the hall ; And the voices of the children Ringing clear above it aU ! Yet one house was dim and darkened : Gloom, and sickness, and despaii* Were dweUiug in the gUded chambers, Creeping up the marble stair, StiUinof even the voice of mournino- — For a child lay dying there. Silken curtains fell around him. Velvet carpets hushed the tread, 1* THE angel's story. H Many costly toys were lying, All uulieeded by his bed ; And his tangled golden ringlets Were on downy pillows spread. All the skill of the great City To save that little life was vain ; That little thread from being broken, That fatal word from bemg spoken ; Nay, his very mother's pain, And the mighty love within her, Could not give him health again. So she knelt there still beside him, She alone with strength to smile, And to promise he should suffer !N"o more in a little while, And with murmured song and story The long weary hours beguUe. Suddenly an unseen Presence Checked those constant moaning cries, Stilled the little heart's quick fluttering. Raised those blue and wandering eyes, 12 THE angel's story. Fixed on some "mysterious vision, With a startled sweet surprise. For a radiant angel hovered Smiling o'er the little bed ; White his raiment, from his shoulders Snowy dove-like pinions spread, And a starUke light was shining In a Glory roimd his head. While, vnth tender love, the angel, Leaning o'er the Kttle nest, In his arms the sick child folding. Laid him gently on his breast. Sobs and wailings told the mother That her darling was at rest. So the angel, slowly rising. Spread his wings ; and, through the au*. Bore the smUing child, and held him On his heart with loving care ; A red branch of blooming roses Placing softly by him there. THE ANGEL'S STOKY. 13 While the child, thus clinging, floated Towards the mansions of the Blest, Gazing from his shining guardian To the flowers upon his breast, Thus the angel spake, still smiling On the little heavenly guest : " Know, O little one, that Heaven Does no earthly thing disdain, Man's poor joys find there an echo Just as surely as his pain ; Love, on earth so feebly striving. Lives divine in Heaven again ! " Once in that great town below us. In a poor and narrow street. Dwelt a little sickly orphan ; Gentle aid, or pity sweet. Never in life's rugged pathway Guided his poor tottering feet. " All the striving anxious forethought, That should only come ■with, age. 14 THE ANGEL'S STORY. "Weighed upon his baby spirit, Showed him soon life's sternest page ; Grim Want was his nurse, and Sorrow Was his only heritage ! " All too weak for childish pastimes, Drearily the hours sped ; On his hands so small and tremblmg Leaning his poor aching head. Or, through dark and painful hours. Lying sleepless on his bed. " Dreaming strange and longing fancies Of cool forests far away ; And of rosy happy children, Laughing merrily at j^lay. Coming home through green lanes, bearing Trailing branches of white May. " Scarce a ghmpse of the blue heavens Gleamed above that narrow street, And the sultry air of summer (That you called so warm and sweet) Fevered the poor Orphan, dwelling In the crowded alley's heat. THE ANGEL'S STOEY. 15 " One bright day, with feeble footsteps Slowly forth he dared to crawl, Through the crowded city's pathways, Till he reached a garden-wall ; Where 'mid princely halls and mansions Stood the lordliest of all. " There were trees with giant branches. Velvet glades where shadows hide ; There were sparkling fountains glancing, Flowers whose rich luxtriant pride Wafted even a breath of perfume To the child who stood outside. " He against the gate of iron Pressed his wan and wistful face, Gazing with an awe-struck pleasure At the glories of the place ; Never had his brightest day-dream Shone with half such wondrous grace. " You were playing in that garden. Throwing blossoms in the air. And laughing when the petals floated Downwards on your golden hair; 16 THE ANGEL'S STORY. And the fond eyes watcliing o'er you, And the splendour spread before you, Told, a House's Hope was there. " When your servants, tired of seeing His pale face of want and woe. Turning to the ragged Orphan, Gave him coin, and bade him go, Down his cheek so thin and wasted, Bitter tears began to flow. " But that look of childish sorrow On your tender chUd heart fell, And you plucked the reddest roses From the tree you loved so well, Passing them through the stern grating. With the gentle word, ' Farewell ! ' " Dazzled by the fragrant treasure And the gentle voice he heard. In the poor forlorn boy's spirit, Joy, the sleeping Seraph, stirred ; In his hand he took the flowers. In his heart the loving word. THE angel's story. 17 " So he crept to his poor garret, Poor no more, but rich and bright ; For the holy dreams of childhood — Love, and Rest, and Hope, and Light — Floated round the Orphan's piUow Through the starry summer night. " Day dawned, yet the visions lasted ; All too weak to rise he lay ; Did he dream that none spake harshly — All were strangely kind that day ? And he thought his treasured roses Must have charmed aU ills away. " And he smiled, though they were fading ; One by one their leaves were shed ; ' Such bright things could never perish, They would bloom again,' he said. When the next day's sun had risen Child and flowers both were dead. " Know, dear Httle one ! our Father Does no gentle deed disdain ; And in hearts that beat in heaven, Still aU tender thoughts remain ; 18 THE ANGEL'S STORY. Love on the cold earth beginning Lives divine and pure again ! " Thus the angel ceased, and gently O'er his little burthen leant ; While the child gazed from the shining, Loving eyes that o'er him bent, To the blooming roses by him, Wondering what that mystery meant. Then the radiant angel answered, And with tender meaning smiled, " Ere your childUke, loving spirit, Sin and the hard world defiled, God has given me leave to seek you ; — I was once that little child ! " Li the churchyard of that city Rose a tomb of marble rare, Decked, as soon as SjDring awakened, With her buds and blossoms fair ; — And a humble grave beside it, — No one knew who rested there. ECHOES. Still the angel stars are shining, Still the rij^pling waters flow, But the angel-voice is silent That I heard so Ions: asco. Hark ! the echoes murmur low, Long ago ! StiU the wood is dim and lonely, Still the plashing fountains play, But the past and all its beauty, Whither has it fled away ? Hark ! the mournful echoes say, Fled away ! Still the bird of night complaineth, (Now, indeed, her song is pain,) Visions of my happy hours, Do I call and call in vain ? Hark ! the echoes cry again, All in vain ! 20 ECHOES. Cease, oh echoes, mournful echoes ! Once I loved your voices well ; Now my heart is sick and weary, Days of old, a long farewell ! Hark ! the echoes sad and dreary Cry farewell, farewell ! A FALSE GENIUS. I SEE a Spirit by thy side, Purple-winged and eagle-eyed, Looking like a Heavenly guide. Though he seem so bright and fair, Ere thou trust his proffered care. Pause a little, and beware ! K he bid thee dwell apart, Tendins: some ideal smart Li a sick and coward heart ; A FALSE GENIUS. 21 In self-worship wrapjDed alone, Dreaming thy poor griefs are grown More than other men have known ; Dwelling in some cloudy sjjhere, Though God's work is waiting here, And God deigneth to b§ near ; If his torch's crimson glare Show thee evil everywhere, Tainting all the wholesome air ; While with strange distorted choice, Still disdaining to rejoice. Thou wilt hear a wailing voice ; If a simple, humble heart. Seem to thee a meaner part. Than thy noblest aim and art ; If he bid thee bow before Crowned IVIind and nothing more. The great idol men adore ; 22 A FALSE GENIUS. And vnth starry veil enfold Sin, the trailing serpent old, Till his scales shine out like gold ; Though his words seem true and wise, Soul, I say to thee. Arise, He is a Demon in 'disguise ! MY PICTURE. Stand this way — ^more near the window- By my desk — you see the light Falling on my picture better — Thus I see it while I write ! Who the head may be I know not. But it has a student air ; With a look half sad, half stately, Grave sweet eyes and flowing hair. MYPICTUKE. 23 Little care I who the painter, How obscure a name he bore ; Nor, when some have named Velasques, Did I vahie it the more. As it is, I would not give it For the rarest i:»iece of art ; It has dwelt with me, and listened To the secrets of my heart. Many a time, when to my garret Weary I returned at night. It has seemed to look a welcome That has made my poor room bright. Many a time, when ill and sleejiless, I have watched the quivering gleam Of my lamp upon that picture, Till it faded in my dream. When dark days have come, and friendship Worthless seemed, and life in vain. That bright friendly smUe has sent me Boldly to my task agam. 24 MYPICTUEE. Sometimes when hard need has pressed aie To bow down where I despise, I have read stern words of counsel In those sad reproachful eyes. Nothing that my bram imaguied, Or my weary hand has wi'ought, But it watched the dim Idea Spring forth into armed thought. It has smiled on my successes, Raised me when my hopes were low, And by turns has looked upon me With all the loving eyes I know. Do you wonder that my picture Has become so like a friend ? — It has seen my life's beginnings, It shall stay and cheer the end ! JUDGE NOT. Judge not ; the workings of his brain And of his heart thou canst not see ; What looks to thy dim eyes a stain, In God's pure light may only be A scar, brought from some weU-won field, Where thou wouldst only faint and yield. The look, the air, that frets thy sight, May be a token, that below The soul has closed in deadly fight With some infernal fiery foe, Whose glance would scorch thy s milin g grace, .And cast thee shuddering on thy face ! The faU thou darest to despise — May be the slackened angel's hand Has sufiered it, that he may rise And take a fii*mer, surer stand ; 2 26 JIJDGENOT. Or, trusting less to earthly things, May henceforth learn to use his wings. And judge none lost, but wait, and see. With hopeful pity, not disdain ; The depth of the abyss may be The measure of the height of pam And love and glory that may raise This soul to God in after days ! FEIEKD SOREOW. Do not cheat thy Heart and tell her, " Grief will pass away, Hope for fairer times in future, And forget to-day." — Tell her, if you will, that sorrow Need not come in vain ; Tell her that the lesson taught her Far outweighs the pain. FKIEND SORROW. 27 Cheat her not with the old comfort, " Soon she mil forget" — Bitter truth, alas, — but matter Rather for regret ; Bid her not " Seek other pleasures, Turn to other things : " — But rather nurse her cag6d sorrow Till the captive sings. Rather bid her go forth bravely, And the stranger greet : Not as foe, with spear and buckler. But as dear friends meet ; Bid her with a strong clasp hold her. By her dusky wings — And listen for the murmured blessing Sorrow always brings. OKE BY ONE. One by one the sands are flowing, One by one the moments fall ; Some are coming, some are going ; Do not strive to grasp them all. One by one thy duties wait thee, Let thy whole strength go to each, Let no future dreams elate thee, Learn thou first what these can teach. One by one (bright gifts from Heaven) Joys are sent thee here below ; Take them readUy when given, Ready, too, to let them go. One by one thy griefs shall meet thee, Do not fear an arm^d band ; One will fade as others greet thee. Shadows passing through the land. ONEBYONE. 29 Do not look at life's long sorrow ; See how small each moment's pain ; God will help thee for to-moiTow, So each day begin again. Every hour that fleets so slowly Has its task to do or bear ; Luminous the crown, and holy, If thou set each gem mth care. Do not hnger with regretting. Or for passing hours desj)ond ; Nor, the daily toil forgetting, Look too eagei'ly beyond. Hours are golden links, God's token, Reaching Heaven ; but one by one Take them, lest the chain be broken Ere the pilgrimage be done. TRUE HOISTOURS. Is my darling tired ali-eady, Tired of her long day of play ? Draw your little stool beside me, Smooth this tangled hair away. Can she put the logs together, Till they make a cheerful blaze ? And shall her blind old Uncle tell her Something about long past days ? Hark ! The wind among the cedars Waves their white arms to and fro, I remember how I watched them Sixty Christmas Days ago : Then I dreamt a glorious vision Of great deeds to crown each year ;- Sixty Christmas Days have found me Useless, helpless, bUnd, — and here! TKUE HONOUKS. 31 Yes, I feel my darling stealing Warm soft fingers into mine ; — Shall I tell her what I fancied In that strange old dream of mine ? I was kneeling by the window, Reading how a noble band, With the red cross on their breast-plates Went to gain the Holy Land. While with eager eyes of wonder Over the dark page I bent, Slowly twilight shadows gathered TiU the letters came and went ; Slowly, tiU the night was round me. Then my heart beat loud and fast : For I felt before I saw it That a spirit near me passed. So I raised my eyes, and shining Where the moon's first ray was bright, Stood a winged Angel-warrior Clothed and panoplied in light : So, with Heaven's love upon him. Stem in cahn and resolute will. 32 TRUE HONOUES. Looked St. Michael, — does the picture Hang in the old cloister still ? Threefold were the dreams of honour That absorbed my heart and bram ; Threefold crowns the Angel promised, Each one to be bought by pain : While he spoke, a threefold blessing Fell upon my soul like rain. Helper or the poor and supfeeing ; Victor rsr a gloeious steife ; SiNGEE OF A NOBLE POEM : Such the honours of my life. Ah, that dream ! Long years have brought me Joy and grief and real things ; Yet never touched the tender memory Sweet and solemn that it brings, — Never quite effaced the feeling Of those white and shadowing wings. Ah, I guess, those blue eyes open ! Does my faith too foolish seem ? Yes, my darling, years have taught me It was nothing but a dream. TKUE HONOURS. 33 Soon, too soon, the bitter knowledge Of a fearful trial rose. Rose to crush my heart, and sternly Bade my young ambition close. More and more my eyes were clouded, Till at last God's glorious light Passed away from me for ever. And I lived and live in niffht. Dear, I will not dim your j)leasure, Christmas should be only gay, — In my night the stars have risen. And I wait the dawn of day. Even then I could be happy, For my brothers' tender care In their boyish pastimes ever Made me take, or feel a share. Philip, even then so thoughtful, Max so noble, brave and tall, And your father, little Godfrey, The most loving of them all. Philip reasoned down my sorrow. Max would laugh my gloom away, 2* 34 TRUE HONOURS. Godfrey's little arms put round me, Helped me through my dreariest day. And the promise of my angel, Like a star, now bright, now pale, Hung in blackest night above me, And I felt it could not fail. Years passed on, my brothers left me. Each went out to take his share In the struggle of life ; my portion Was a humble one — to bear. Here I dwelt, and learnt to wander Through the woods and fields alone. Every cottage in the village Had a corner caUed my own. Old and young, aU brought their troubles, Great or small for me to hear ; I have often blessed my sorrow That drew others' grief so near. Ah, the people needed helping — Needed love — (for Love and Heaven Are the only gifts not bartered. They alone are freely given) — TKUEHONOUES. 35 And I gave it. Philip's bounty, (We were orphans, clear,) made toil Prosper, and want never fastened On the tenants of the soil. Phihp's name (Oh, how I gloried. He so young, to see it rise !) Soon grew noted among Statesmen As a patriot true and wise. And his peoj^le, too, felt honoured To be ruled by such a name ; I was proud, too, that they loved me, Through their j^ride in him it came. He had gained what I had longed for, I meanwhile grew glad and gay, 'Mid his people, to be serving Him and them, in some poor way. How his noble earnest speeches. With untiring fervour came ; Helpee of the poor and suffering ; Truly he deserved the name ! Had my Angel's promise failed me ? Had that M'ord of hope grown dim ? 36 TKUE HONOURS. Why, my PhiHp had fulfiUed it, And I loved it best in him ! Max meanwhile — ah, you, my darling, Can his loving words recall — 'Mid the bravest and the noblest. Braver, nobler, than them all. How I loved him ! how my heart thriUed "When his sword clanked by his side. When I touched his gold embroidery, Almost saw him in his pride ! So we parted ; he all eager To ujihold the name he bore, Leaving in my charge — ^he loved me — Some one whom he loved still more : I must tend this gentle flower, I must speak to her of him. For he feared — Love stUl is fearful — That his memory might grow dim. I must guard her from all sorrow, I must play a brother's part, Shield all grief and trial from her. If it need be, with my hearts TBUEHONOUKS. 37 Tears passed, and his name grew famous ; We were proud, both she and I ; And we lived upon his letters, While the slow days fleeted by. Then at last — you know the story, How a fearful rumour sj^read, TiU all hope had slowly faded. And we heard that he was dead. Dead ! Oh, those were bitter hours ; Yet within my soul there dwelt Something; while the rest aU mourned him, Something, like a hope, I felt. His was no weak life as mine was, But a life, so full and strong, No, I could not tliink he perished Nameless, 'mid a conquered throng. How she drooped ! Yeai's passed ; no tidings Came, and yet that little flame Of strange hope within my spirit StiU bm-nt on, and lived the same. Well, my child, our hearts will fail us, Then, when they the strongest seem j 38 TEUE HONOURS. I can look back on those hours As a fearful, evil dream. She had long despau-ed ; what wonder That her heart had turned to mine ? Earthly loves are deep and tender, Not eternal and divine ! Can I say how bright a future Rose before my soul that day ? Oh, so strange, so sweet, so tender ; And I had to turn away. Hard and terrible the struggle. For the pain not mine alone ; I called back my Brother's spirit, And I bade him claim his own. Told her — now I dared to do it — That I felt the day would rise When he would return to gladden My weak heart and her bright eyes. And I j)leaded — pleaded sternly — In his name, and for his sake : Now, I can speak calmly of it, Then, I thought my heart would break. TRUE HONOURS. 39 Soon — ah, Love had not deceived me, (Love's true instincts never err,) "Wounded, weak, escaped from prison, He returned to me : to her. I could thank God that bi'ight morning, When I felt my Brother's gaze, That my heart was true and loyal, As in our old boyish days. Bought by wounds and deeds of daring, Honours he had brought away ; Glory crowned his name — my Brother's, Mine, too ! — we were one that day. Since the crown on him had fallen, " Victor in a nobler strife," I could live and die contented With my poor ignoble life. Well, my darling, almost weary Of my story ? Wait awhile ; For the rest is only joyful, I can tell it with a smile. One bright promise still was left me. Wound so close about my soul, 40 TKUE HONOURS. That as one by one had failed me, This dream now absorbed the whole. " SlKGEK or A NOBLER PoEM," Ah, my darling, few and rare Burn the glorious names of Poets, Like stars in the purple air. That too, and I glory in it. That great gift my Godfrey won ; I have my dear share of honour. Gained by that beloved one. One day shall my darling read it ; Now she cannot understand All the noble thoughts, that lighten Through the genius of the land. I am proud to be his brother. Proud to think that hope was true ; Though I longed and strove so vainly, "What I failed in, he could do. I was long before I knew it. Longer ere I felt it so ; Then I strung my rhymes together Only for the poor and low. TEUEHONOUES. 41 And, it pleases me to know it, (For I love them well indeed,) They care for my humble verses. Fitted for their humble need. And, it cheers my heart to hear it, Where the far-off settlers roam. My poor words are sung and cherished. Just because they speak of Home. And the little children sing them, (That, I think, has pleased me best,) Often, too, the dying love them. For they tell of Heaven and rest. So my last vain dream has faded ; (Such as I to think of fame !) Yet I will not say it faUed me. For it crowned my Godfrey's name. No ; my Angel did not cheat me, I or my long life has been blest ; He did give me Love and Sorrow, He will bring me Light and Rest. A WOMAN'S QUESTION. Before I trust my Fate to thee, Or place my hand in tliine, Before I let thy Future give Colour and form to mine, Before I peril all for thee, question thy soul to- night for me. I break all slighter bonds, nor feel A shadow of regret : Is there one link within the Past, That holds thy spirit yet ? Or is thy Faith as clear and free as that which 1 can pledge to thee ? Does there within thy dimmest dreams A possible future shine, A WOMAN'S QUESTION. 43 Wherein thy Ufe could henceforth breathe, Untouched, unshared by mine ? If so, at any pain or cost, oh, tell me before all is lost. Look deeper still. If thou canst feel, Within thy inmost soul. That thou hast kept a portion back, While I have staked the whole : Let no false pity spare the blow, but in true mercy tell me so. Is there within thy heart a need That mine cannot fulfil ? One chord that any other hand Could better wake or still ? Speak now — lest at some future day my whole life wither and decay. Lives there within thy nature hid The demon-spirit Change, Shedding a passing gloiy still On all things new and strange ? — It may not be thy fault alone— but shield my heart against thy own. 44 A woman's question. Couldst thou withdraw thy hand one day And answer to my claim, That Fate, and that to-day's mistake, Not thou, — had been to blame ? Some soothe their conscience thus: but thou, O surely, thou wilt warn me now Nay, answer not — I dare not hear, The words would come too late ; Yet I would spare thee all remorse. So, comfort thee, my Fate : — Whatever on my heai-t may fall, — remember, I loould risk it all ! THE THREE RULERS. I SAW a Riiler take his stand And trample on a mighty land ; The People crouched before his beck, His iron heel was on their neck, His name shone bright through blood and pain, His sword flashed back their praise again. I saw another Ruler rise, — His words were noble, good, and wise ; With the calm sceptre of his pen He ruled the minds and thoughts of men : Some scoffed, some praised — while many heard, Only a few obeyed his word. Another Ruler then I saw, — Love and sweet Pity were his law : 46 THETHEEE EULEES. The greatest and the least had part (Yet most the unhajipy) in his heart ; — The People, in a mighty band, Rose up, and drove him from the land ! A DEAD PAST. Spaee her at least : look, you have taken from mo The Present, and I murmur not, nor moan ; The Future, too, with all her glorious promise ; But do not leaA'e me utterly alone. Spare me the Past — for, see, she cannot harm you, She lies so white and cold, wrapped in her shroud; All, all my own ! and, trust me, I will hide her Within my soul, nor speak to her aloud. I folded her soft hands upon her bosom. And strewed my flowers upon her — they still live — ADEADPAST. 47 Sometimes I like to kiss her closed white eyelids, And think of all the joy she used to give. Cruel indeed it were to take her from me ; She sleeps, she will not wake — no fear — again : And so I laid her, such a gentle burthen. Quietly on my heart to still its pain. I do not think the rosy smiling Present, Or the vague Future, spite of all her charms, Could ever rival her. You know you laid her. Long years ago, then living, in my arms. Leavp, her at least — while my tears fall upon her, I dream she smiles, just as she did of yore ; As dear as ever to me — nay, it may be, Even dearer still — since I have nothing more. A DOUBTING HEAKT. Where are the swallows fled ? Frozen and dead, Percliance upon some bleak and stormy shore. O doubting heart ! Far over purple seas, They wait, in sunny ease. The balmy southern breeze. To bring them to their northern home once nioie. Why must the flowers die ? Prisoned they lie In the cold tomb, heedless of tears or rain. O doubting heart ! They only sleep below . The soft white ermine snow. While winter winds shall blow, To breathe and smile upon you soon again. A DOUBTIKG HEART. 49 The sun has hid its rays These many days ; Will dreary hours never leave the earth ? O doubtmg heart ! The stormy clouds on high Veil the same sunny sky, That soon (for spring is nigh) Shall -wake the summer into golden mirth. Fair hoi^e is dead, and light Is quenched in night. What sound can break the silence of despair ? O doubting heart ! Thy sky is overcast, Yet stars shall rise at last, Brighter for darkness past, And angels' silver voices stir the air. A STUDENT. Oyer an ancient scroll I bent, Steeping my soul in wise content, Nor paused a moment, save to chide A low voice whispering at my side. I wove beneath the stars' pale shine A dream, half human, half divine ; And shook off (not to break the charm) A little hand laid on my arm. I read ; ah, how my heart would glow, With glorious deeds of long ago ; Nor heard, while with those mighty dead, Pass to and fro a faltering tread. On the old theme I pondered long, — The struggle between right and wrong ; A STUDENT. 51 I could not check such visions his^h. To soothe a little quivering sigh. I tried to solve the problem — Life ; Dreaming of that mysterious strife, How could I leave such reasonings wise. To answer two blue pleading eyes ? I strove how best to give, and when, My blood to save my fellow-men : — How could I turn aside, to look At snowdrops laid upon my book ? Now tune has fled, — the world is strangle. Something there is of j)ain and change ; My books lie closed upon the shelf; I miss the old heai't in myself I miss the sunbeams in my room ; — It was not always wrajsped in gloom ; I miss my dreams, — they fade so fast, Or flit into some trivial past. 52 A S T U D E N T . The great stream of the world goes by ; !N"oue care, or heed, or question, why I, the lone student, cannot raise My voice or hand as in old days. No echo seems to wake again My heart to anything but pain, Save when a dream of twihght brings The fluttering of an angel's wings ! A KNIGHT ERRANT. Though he lived and died among us, Yet his name may be enrolled With the knights whose deeds of daring Ancient chronicles have told. StiU a stripling, he encountered Poverty, and struggled long. Gathering force from every effort, Till he knew his arm was strong. A KNIGHT ERKANT. 53 Then his heart and life he offered To his radiant mistress — Truth ; Never thought, or dream, or faltering. Marred the promise of his youth. And he rode forth to defend her, And her peerless worth proclaim ; Challenging each recreant doubter Who aspersed her spotless name. First upon his path stood Ignorance Hideous in his brutal might ; Hard the blows and long the battle Ere the monster took to flight. Then, with light and fearless spirit. Prejudice he dared to brave ; Hunting back the lying craven To her black sulphureous cave. Followed by his servile minions, The old Giant Custom rose ; Yet he, too, at last was conquered By the good Knight's weighty blows. 54 A KNIGHT EEEANT. Then he turned, and flushed with victory, Struck upon the brazen shield Of the world's great king, Opinion, And defied him to the field. Once again he rose a conqueror. And, though wounded in the fight. With a dying smile of triumph Saw that Truth had gained her right. On his faUins ear re-echoing Came the shouting round her throne ; Little cared he that no future With her name would link his own. Spent with many a hard-fought battle, Slowly ebbed his life away, And the crowd that flocked to greet her Trampled on him Avhere he lay. Gathering all his strength, he saw her Crowned and reigning in her pride : Looked his last upon her beauty, Raised his eyes to God, and died. LESTGEE, OH, GENTLE TIME. LiNGEE, oh, gentle Time, Linger, oh, radiant grace of bright To-day ! Let not the hours' chime Call thee away. But linger near me still with fond delay. Linger, for thou art mine ! What dearer treasures can the future hold ? What sweeter flowers than thine Can she unfold ? What secrets tell my heart thou hast not told ? Oh, linger in thy flight ! For shadows gather round, and should we part, A dreary starless night May fill my heart, — Then pause and linger yet ere thou depart. 56 LINGEE, OH, GENTLE TIME, Linger, I ask no more, — Thou art enough for ever — thou alone ; What future can restore. When thou art flown, All that I hold from thee and call my own ? HOMEWARD BOUND. I HAVE seen a fiercer tempest, Known a louder whirlwmd blow. I was wrecked off red Algiers, Sixty-and-thirty years ago. Young I was, — and yet old seamen Were not strong or calm as I ; While life held such treasures for me, I felt sure I could not die. Life I struggled for — and saved it ; Life alone — and nothins: more : Bruised, half dead, alone and helpless I was cast upon the shore. HOMEWARD BOUND. 57 I feared the pitiless rocks of Ocean ; So the great sea rose — and then Cast me fi-om her friendly bosom, On the pitiless hearts of men. Gaunt and dreary ran the moimtains, With black gorges, up the land ; Up to where the lonely Desert Spreads her burning, dreary sand : In the gorges of the mountains. On the plain beside the sea, Dwelt my stern and cruel masters. The black Moors of Barbary. Ten long years I toiled among them. Hopeless — as I used to say ; Now I know Hope burnt within me Fiercer, stronger, day by day : Those dim years of toil and sorrow Like one long dark dream apj^ear ; One long day of weary waiting ; Then each day was like a year. How I cursed the land — my prison ; How I cursed the serpent sea, — 3* 58 HOMEWARD BOUND. And the Demon Fate, — ^that showered All her curses upon me : I was mad, I think — God jjardon Words so terrible and wUd — This voyage would have been my last one, For I left a wife and child. Never did one tender vision Fade away before my sight, Never once through all my slavery, Burning day or dreary night ; In my soul it lived, and kept me, Now I feel, from black despair. And my heart was not quite broken, While they lived and blest me there. When at night my task was over, I would hasten to the shore ; (All was strange and foreign inland, Nothing I had kno^vn before ; ) Strange looked the bleak mountain jiasses. Strange the red glare and black shade. And the Oleanders, waving To the sound the fountains made. HOMEWARD BOUND. 59 Then I gazed at the great Ocean, Till she grew a friend again ; And because she knew old England, I forgave her all my pain : So the blue stUl sky above me, With its white clouds' fleecy fold, And the glimmering stars, (though brighter,) Looked like home and days of old. And a calm would fall upon me, "Worn perhaps with work and pain. The wild hungry longing left me, And I was myself again : Looking at the silver wa.ters, Looking up at the far sky, Dreams of home and all I left there Floated sorrowfully by. A fair face, but pale with sorrow, With blue eyes, brimful of tears, And the little red mouth, quiveiing With a smile, to hide its fears ; Holding out her baby towards me, From the sky she looked on me ; 60 HOMEWARD BOUND. So it was that I last saw her, As the ship put out to sea. Sometimes, (and a pang would seize me That the years were floating on,) I would strive to paint her, altered. And the little baby gone : She no longer young and girlish. The child, standing by her knee, And her face more pale and saddened With the weariness for me. Then I saw, as night grew darker, How she taught my child to pray, Holding its small hands together, For its father, far away ; And I felt her sorrow, weighing Heavier on me than mine own ; Pitying her blighted spring-time. And her joys so early flown. Till upon my hands (now hardened With the rough, harsh toil of years) Bitter drops of anguish, falling. Woke me from my dream, to tears : HOME W ARD BOUND. 61 Woke me as a slave, au outcast, Leagues from home, across the deep ; So — though you may call it childish — So I sobbed myself to sleej). Well, the years sped on — my Sorrow Calmer, and yet stronger grown. Was my shield against all suffering, Poorer, meaner, than her own. So my cruel master's harshness Fell upon me all in vain, Yet the tale of what we suffered Echoed back from main to main. You have heard in a far country Of a self-devoted band. Vowed to rescue Christian captives Pining in a foreign land. And these gentle-hearted strangers Year by year go forth from Rome, In their hands the hard-earned ransom, To restore some exiles home. I was fi-eed : they broke the tidings Gently to me : but indeed 62 HOMEWARD BOUND. Hour by hour sped on, I knew not What the words meant — I was freed ! Better so, perhaps ; while sorrow (More akm to earthly thmgs) Only strains the sad heart's fibres — Joy, bright stranger, breaks the strings. Yet at last it rushed upon me, And my heart beat full and fast ; What were now my years of waiting, What was aU the dreary past ? Nothing — to the impatient throbbing I must bear across the sea : Nothing — ^to the eternal hours StiU between my home and me ! How the voyage passed, I know not ; Strange it was once more to stand With my countrymen around me. And to clasp an Enghsh hand. But, through all, my heart was dreaming Of the first words I should hear, In the gentle voice that echoed. Fresh as ever, on my ear. HOMEWARD BOUND. 63 Should I see lier start of wonder, And the sudden truth arise, Flushing all her face and lightening The dimmed splendour of her eyes? Oh ! to watch the fear and doubtinsr Stir the sUent depths of pain, And the rush of joy — then melting Into perfect peace again. And the child ! — but why remember Foolish fancies that I thought ? Every tree and every hedge-row From the well-known past I brought : I would picture my dear cottage, See the crackling wood-fire burn, And the two beside it seated. Watching, waiting my return. So, at last we reached the harbour. I remember nothing more Till I stood, my sick heart throbbing. With my hand upon the door. There I paused — I heard her speaking ; Low, soft, murmuring words she said ; 64 HOMEWARD BOUND. Then I first knew the dumb terroi' I had had, lest she were dead. It was evening in late autumn, And the gusty wind blew chill ; Autumn leaves were falling round me, And the red sun lit the hill. Six-and-twenty years are vanished Since then — I am old and gray — But I never told to mortal What I saw, until this day. She was seated by the fire. In her arms she held a child, Whisj)ering baby words caressing. And then, looking up, she smiled : Smiled on him who stood beside her — Oh ! the bitter truth Avas told, In her look of trusting fondness, — I had seen the look of old ! But she rose and turned towards me (Cold and dumb I waited there) HOMEWARD BOUND, 65 With a shriek of fear and terror, And a white face of despair. He had been an ancient comrade — Not a single word we said, While we gazed upon each other, He the living : I the dead ! I drew nearer, nearer to her. And I took her trembHng hand, Looking on her white face, looking That her heart might understand All the love and all the pity That my lips refused to say — I thank God no thoughts save sorrow Rose in our crushed hearts that day. Bitter tears that desolate moment, Bitter, hitter tears we wept, We three broken hearts together. While the baby smiled and slept. Tears alone — no words were spoken, Till he — ^till her husband said That my boy, (I had forgotten The poor child,) that he was dea.'^ 66 HOMEWARD BOUND. Then at last I rose, and, turning, Wrung his hand, but made no sign ; And I stooped and kissed her forehead Once more, as if she were mine. Nothing of farewell I uttered. Save in broken words to pray That God in His great love would bless her- Then in silence passed way. Over the great restless ocean For six-and-twenty years I roam ; AU my comrades, old and weary, Have gone back to die at home. — Home ! yes, I shall reach a haven, I, too, shall reach home and rest ; I shall find her waiting for me With our baby on her breast. LIFE AND DEATH. " What is life, Father ?" " A Battle, my child, Where the strongest lance may fail, Where the wariest eyes may be beguiled, And the stoutest heart may quail. Where the foes are gathered on every hand And rest not day or night. And the feeble little ones must stand Li the thickest of the fight." " What is Death, Father ?» " The rest, my child, When the strife and the toil are o'er ; The angel of God, who, calm and mild. Says we need fight no more ; Who di-iveth away the demon band Bids the din of the battle cease ; 68 LIFE AND DEATH. Takes the banner and spear from our failing hand, And proclaims an eternal Peace." " Let me die, Father ! I tremble and fear To yield in that terrible strife !" " The crown must be won for Heaven, dear, In the battle-field of life ; My child, though thy foes are strong and tried, He loveth the weak and small ; The Angels of Heaven are on thy side, And God is over all !" NOW. Rise ! for the day is passing, And you lie dreaming on ; The others have buckled their armour, And forth to fight are gone ; A place in the ranks awaits you, Each man has some part to play ; The Past and the Future are nothing, In the face of the stern To-day. Rise from your dreams of the future, — Of gaining some hard-fought field ; Of storming some aiiy fortress, Or bidding some giant yield ; Your Future has deeds of glory, Of honour (God grant it may !) But your arm wUl never be stronger. Or the need so great as To-day. 70 NOW. Rise ! if the Past detains you, Her sunshine and storms forget ; No chains so unworthy to hold you As those of a vain regret : Sad or bright, she is lifeless for ever. Cast her phantom arms away, Nor look back, save to learn the lesson Of a nobler strife To-day. Rise ! for the day is passing : The low sound that you scarcely hear Is the enemy marching to battle — Arise ! for the foe is here ! Stay not to sharpen your weapons. Or the hour will strike at last, When, from dreams of a coming battle, You may wake to find it past ! CLEANSING FIEES. Let thy gold be cast in the furnace, Thy red gold, precious and bright, Do not fear the hungry fire, With its* caverns of burning light : And thy gold shall return more precious, Free from every spot and stain ; For gold must be tried by fire ; As a heart must be tried by pain ! In the cruel fire of Sorrow Cast thy heart, do not faint or wail ; Let thy hand be firm and steady. Do not let thy spirit quail : But wait, when the trial is over, And take thy heart again ; For as gold is tried by fire. So a heart must be tried by pain ! 72 CLEANSING FIRES. I shall know by the gleam and glitter Of the golden chain you wear, By your heart's calm strength in loving Of the fire they have had to bear : Beat on, true heart, for ever ; Shine bright, strong golden chain ; And bless the cleansing fire. And the furnace of living pain ! THE VOICE OF THE WIND. Let us throw more logs on the fire ! We have need of a cheerful light. And close rotmd the hearth to gather, For the wind has risen to-night. With the mournful sound of its waiUng It has checked the children's glee, And it caUs with a louder clamour Than the clamom- of the sea. Hark to the voice of the wind ! THE VOICE OF THE AVIND. IS Let us listen to what it is saying, Let us hearken to where it has been ; For it tells, in its terrible crying, The fearful sights it has seen. It clatters loud at the casements. Round the house it hurries on. And shrieks with redoubled fury. When we say "The blast is gone !" Hark to the voice of the wind ! It has been on the field of battle, Where the dying and wounded lie And it brings the last groan they uttered. And the ravenous vulture's cry. It has been where the icebergs were meeting, And closed with a fearful crash ; On the shore where no footstep has wandered, It has heard the waters dash. Hark to the voice of the wind ! It has been on the desolate ocean. When the lightning struck the mast ; It has heard the cry of the drowning. Who sank as it hurried past ; 74 THE VOICE OP THE WIND. The words of despair and anguish, That were heard by no Hving ear, The gun that no signal answered ; It brings them all to us here. Hark to the voice of the wind ! It has been on the lonely moorland, Where the treacherous snow-drift lies. Where the travellei', spent and weary, Gasped fainter, and fainter cries ; It has heard the bay of the bloodhounds, On the track of the hunted slave. The lash and the curse of the master, And the groan that the captive gave. Hark to the voice of the wind ! It has swept through the gloomy forest, Where the sledge was urged to its speed, Where the howling wolves were rushing On the track of the panting steed. Where the pool was black and lonely. It caught up a s])lash and a cry — Only the bleak sky heard it, And the wind as it hurried by. Hark to the voice of the wind ! THE VOICE OF THE WIND. 75 Then throw more logs on the fire, Since the air is bleak and cold, And the children are drawing nigher, For the tales that the ivind has told. So closer and closer gather Round the red and crackling light ; And rejoice (while the wind is blowing) We are safe and warm to-night ! Hark to the voice of the wind ! TREASURES. Let me count my treasures. All my soul holds dear, Given me by dark spirits Whom I used to fear. Through long days of anguish, And sad nights, did Pain Forge my shield. Endurance, Bright and free from stain ! 76 TREASURES. Doubt, ill misty caverns, 'Mid dark horrors sought, Till my pearless jewel, Fii'th, to me she brought. Sorrow (that I wearied Should remain so long) Wreathed my starry glory. The bright Crown of Song ! Strife, that racked my spirit Without hope or rest. Left the blooming flower, Patience, on my breast. Sufiering, that I dreaded, lofnorant of her charms, Laid the fair child. Pity, Smiling, in my arms. So I count my treasures, Stored in days long past ; — And I thank the givers. Whom I know at last ! SHINING STARS. Shine, ye stars of heaven, On a world of pain ! See old Time destroying All our hoarded gain ; Alt our sweetest flowers, Every stately shrine, All our hard-earned glory, Every dream divine ! Shine, ye stars of heaven, On the rolling years ! See how Time, consoling, Dries the saddest tears, Bids the darkest storm-cloiids Pass in gentle rain ; While ujisi^ring in glory. Flowers and dreams again ! 18 SHINING STAKS. Shine, ye stars of heaven, On a world of fear ! See how Time, avenging, BrLngeth judgment here ; Weaving ill- won honours To a fiery crown ; Bidding hard hearts perish ; Casting proud hearts down. Shine, ye stars of heaven. On the hours' slow flight ! See how Time, rewarding, Gilds good deeds with light ; Pays with kingly measure ; Brings earth's dearest prize. Or crowned with rays diviner, Bids the end arise ! WAITING. Wheeefore dwell so sad and lonely, By the desolate sea-shore ; With the melancholy surges Beating at your cottage door ? " You shall dweU beside the castle, Shadowed by our ancient trees ; And your life shall pass on gently. Cared for, and in rest and ease." " Lady, one who loved me dearly Sailed for distant lands away ; And I wait here his returning HopefuUy from day to day. * " To my door I bring my spinning, Watching every ship I see ; Waiting, hoping, till the sunset Fades into the western sea. 80 WAITING. " Every night, behind the casement Still I place a signal light ; He will see its well-known shining Should his ship return at night. " Lady, see your infant smiling, With its flaxen curling hair ; — I remember when your mother Was a baby just as fair. " I was watching then, and hoping ; Years have brought great change to all ; To my neighbours in their cottage, To you nobles at the haU. " Not to me — for I am waiting, And the years have fled so fast, I must look at you to teU me That a weary time has past ! " When I hear a footstep coming On the shingle, — years have fled, — Yet amid a thousand others, I shall know his quick light tread. WAITING. 81 " When I hear (to-night, it may be) Some one pausing at my door, I shall know the gay soft accents, Heard and welcomed oft before ! " So each day I am more hopeful, He may come before the night ; Every sunset I feel surer He must come ere morning light. " Then I thank you, noble lady, But I cannot do your Avill : Where he left me, he must find me, Waiting, watching, hoping still ! " 4* THE CEADLE SONG OF THE POOE. Hush ! I cannot bear to see thee Stretch thy tiny hands in vain ; I have got no bread to give thee, Nothing, child, to ease thy pain. When God sent thee first to bless me, Proud, and thankfnl too, was I ; Now, my darling, I, thy mother. Almost long to see thee die. Sleep, my darling, thou art weary ; God is good, but life is dreary. I have watched thy beauty fading, And thy strength sink day by day ; Soon, I know, will "Want and Fever Take thy Kttle life away. Famine makes thy fatlier reckless, Hope has left both him and me ; THE CKADLE SONG OF THE POOR. 83 We could suffer all, my baby, Had we but a crust for thee. Sleep, my darling, thou art weary ; God is good, but life is dreary. Better thou shouldst perish early, Starve so soon, my darling one. Than live to want, to sin, to struggle Vainly still, as I have done. Better that thy angel spirit With my joy, my peace were flown, Than thy heart grow cold and careless. Reckless, hopeless, like my own. Sleep, my darling, thou art weary ; God is good, but life is dreary. I am wasted, dear, with hunger. And my braia is all ojoprest, I have scarcely strength to press thee. Wan and feeble, to my breast. Patience, baby, God will help us, Death will come to thee and me. He will take us to his Heaven, Where no want or pain can be. 84 THE CKADLE SONG OF THE POOR, Sleep, my darling, thou art weary ; God is good, but life is dreary. Such the plaint, that, late and early, Did we Usten, we might hear, Close beside us, — but the thunder Of a city dulls our ear. Every heart, Hke God's bright Angel, Can bid one such sorrow cease ; God has glory when his children Bring his poor ones joy and peace ! Listen, nearer while she sings Sounds the fluttering of wings ! BE STRONG. Be strong to hope^ oh Heart ! Though day is bright, The stars can only shine In the dark night. Be strong, oh Heart of mine, Look towards the Ught ! Be strong to hem\ oh Heart ! Nothing is vain : Strive not, for hfe is care, And God sends pain, Heaven is above, and there Rest will remain ! Be strong to love^ oh Heart ! Love knows not wrong, 86 BE STRONG. Didst thou love — creatures even, Life were not long ; Didst thou love God in Heaven, Thou wouldst be strong ! GOD'S GIFTS. God gave a gift to Earth : — a child, Weak, innocent, and undefiled, Opened its ignorant eyes and smiled. It lay so heljiless, so forlorn, Earth took it coldly and in scorn, Cursing the day when it was bom. She gave it first a tarnished name, For heritage, a tainted fame, Then cradled it in want and shame. All influence of Good or Right, All ray of God's most holy light, She curtained closely from its sight. god's gifts. 87 Then turned her heart, her eyes away, Ready to look again, the day Its little feet began to stray. In dens of guUt the baby j^layed, "Where sin, and sin alone, was made The law that all around obeyed. With ready and obedient care, He learnt the tasks they taught him there ; Black sin for lesson — oaths for prayer. Then Earth arose, and, in her might, To vindicate her injured right. Thrust him in deeper depths of night. Brandmg him with a deeper brand Of shame, he could not understand, The felon outcast of the land. God gave a gift to Earth :— a child, Weak, innocent, and undefiled. Opened its ignorant eyes and smiled. 88 god'sgifts. And Earth received the gift, and cried Her joy and triumph far and wide, Till echo answered to her pride. She blest the hour when first he came To take the crown of j^ride and fame, Wreathed through long ages for his name. Then bent her utmost art and skill To train the supple mind and will, And guard it from a breath of ill. She strewed his mornmg path with flowers, And Love, in tender dropping showers, Nourished the blue and dawning hours. She shed, in rainbow hues of light, A halo round the Good and Right, To tempt and charm the baby's sight. And every step, of work or play. Was lit by some such dazzling ray, Till morning brightened into day. GOD'SGIFTS. 89 And then the world arose and said — Let added honours now be shed On such a nohle heart and head ! O World, both gifts were pure and bright, Holy and sacred m God's sight : — God will judge them and thee aright ! A TOMB IN GHENT. A SMILING look she had, a figure sHght, With cheerful air, and step both quick and light, A strange and foreign look the maiden bore. That suited the quaint Belgian dress she wore ; Yet the blue fearless eyes in her fair face, And her soft voice told her of English race ; And ever, as she flitted to and fro. She sang, (or murmured, rather,) soft and low, Snatches of song, as if she did not know 90 ATOMBINGHENT. That she was singing, but the happy load Of dream and tho ught thus from her heart o'er- flowed : And while on household cares she passed along, The air would bear me fragments of her song ; Not such as village maidens sing, and few The framers of her changing music knew ; Chants such as heaven and earth first knew of when Allegri and Marcello held the pen. But I with awe had often turned the page, Yellow with time, and half defaced by age, And listened, with an ear not quite unskilled, While heart and soul to the grand echo thrilled ; And much I marvelled, as her cadence fell From the Laudate, that I knew so well, Into Scarlatti's minor fugue, how she Had learned such deep and solemn harmony. But what she told I set in rhyme, as meet To chronicle the influence, dim and sweet, 'Neath wliich her young and innocent life had grown : Would that my words were simple as her own. Many years since an English workman went Over the seas, to seek a home in Ghent, ATOMB IN GHENT, 91 Where English skill was prized, nor toiled in vain ; Small, yet enough, his hard-earned daily gain. He dwelt alone — ^in sorrow or in pride He mixed not with the workers hy his side ; He seemed to care bnt for one present joy — To tend, to watch, to teach his sickly boy. Severe to all beside, yet for the child He softened his rough speech to soothings mild ; For him he smUed, with him each day he walked Through the dark gloomy streets; to him he talked Of home, of England, and strange stories told Of English heroes in the days of old ; And, (when the sunset gilded roof and spii-e,) The marvellous tale which never seemed to tire: How the gilt dragon, glaring fiercely down From the great belfiy, watching all the town. Was brought, a trophy of the wars divine. By a Crusader from far Palestine, And given to Bruges ; and how Ghent arose. And how they struggled long as deadly foes. Till Ghent, one night, by a brave soldier's skill. Stole the great dragon, and she keeps it stUl. One day the dragon — so 'tis said — ^will rise, Spread his bright ^\dngs, and glitter in the skies. 92 A TOMB IN GHENT, And over desert lands and azure seas, Will seek his home 'mid palm and cedar trees. So, as he passed the belfry every day, The boy would look if it were flown away ; Each day surprised to find it watching there. Above him, as he crossed the ancient square, To seek the great cathedral, that had grown A home for him — mysterious and his own. Dim with dark shadows of the ages past, St. Bavon stands, solemn and rich and vast ; The slender pillars in long vistas spread. Like forest arches meet and close o'erhead So high, that hke a weak and doubting prayer, Ere it can float to the carved angels there. The silver clouded incense faints in air ; Only the organ's voice, with peal on peal. Can mount to where those far-off angels kneel. Here the pale boy, beneath a low side-arch. Would Hsten to its solemn chant or march ; Folding his httle hands, his simple prayer Melted in childish dreams, and both in air : While the great organ over all would roll. Speaking strange secrets to his innocent soul. A TOMB IN GHENT. 93 Bearing on eagie-wings the great desire Of all the kneeling throng, and piercing higher Than aught but love and prayer can reach, until Only the silence seemed to hsten still ; Or gathering like a sea still more and more, Break in melodious waves at heaven's door, And then fall, slow and soft, in tender rain, Ul^on the pleading longing hearts again. Then he would watch the rosy sunhght glow. That crept along the marble floor below. Passing, as life does, with the passing hours, Now by a shrine all rich with gems and flowers, Now on the brazen letters of a tomb. Then, leaving it again to shade and gloom, And creeping on, to show, distinct and quaint, The kneeling figure of some marble saint : Or lighting uj) the carvings strange and rare. That told of j^atient toil and reverent care ; Ivy that trembled on the spray, and ears Of heavy corn, and slender buh-ush spears, And all the thousand tangled weeds that errow In summer, where the silver rivers flow ; And demon-heads grotesque, that seemed to glare 94 A TOMB IN GHENT. In impotent wrath on all the beauty there, Then the gold rays up pillared shaft would cUmh, And so be drawn to heaven, at evening time. And deeper silence, darker shadows flowed On all around, only the windows glowed With blazoned glory, hke the shields ol light Archangels bear, who, armed with love and might. Watch upon heaven's battlements at night. Then all was shade, the silver lamps that gleamed. Lost in the daylight, in the darkness seemed Like sparks of fire in the dim aisles to shine, Or trembling stars before each separate shrine. Grown half afraid, the child wovdd leave them there, And come out, blinded by the noisy glare That burst upon him from the busy square. The church was thus his home for rest or play ; And as he came and went again each day. The pictured faces that he knew so well, Seemed to smile on him welcome and farewell. But holier, and dearer far than all, One sacred sj)ot his own he loved to call ; Save at mid-day, half-hidden by the gloom, The people call it The White Maiden's Tomb : A TOMB IN GHENT. 95 For there she stands ; her folded hands are pressed Together, and laid softly on her breast, As if she waited but a word to rise From the dull earth, and pass to the blue skies ; Her Hps expectant part, she holds her breath, As hstening for the angel voice of death. None know how many years have seen her so. Or what the name of her who sleeps below. And here the chUd would come, and strive to trace, Through the dim twilight, the pure gentle face He loved so well, and here he oft would bring Some violet blossom of the early spring ; And chmbmg softly by the fretted stand, Not to disturb her, lay it in her hand ; Or whispering a soft loving message sweet, Would stoop and kiss the little marble feet So, when the organ's peahng music rang, He thought amid the gloom the Maiden sang ; With reverent simple faith by her he knelt And listened what she thought, and what she felt ; " Glory to God," re-echoed from her voice. And then his little spirit would rejoice ; Or when the Requiem sobbed upon the air, His baby-tears dropped with her mournful prayer. 96 A TOMB IN GHENT. So years fled on, while cliildish fancies past, The childish love and simple faith could last. The artist-soul awoke in him, the flame Of genius, like the light of Heaven, came Upon his brain, and (as it will,. if true) It touched his heart and lit his spirit, too. His father saw, and with a proud content Let him forsake the toil where he had spent His youth's first years, and on one happy day Of pride, before the old man passed away. He stood with quivering lips, and the big tears Upon his cheek, and heard the dream of years Living and speaking to his very heart, — The low hushed murmur at the wondrous art Of him, who with young trembling fingers made The great church-organ answer as he played ; And, as the uncertain sound grew full and strong, Rush with harmonious spirit-wings along. And thrill with master power the breathless throng. The old man died, and years passed on, and still The young musician bent his heart and will To his dear toil. St. Bavon now had grown More dear to him, and even more his own ; A TOMB IN GHENT. 97 And as he left it eveiy night he prayed A moment by the archway in the shade, Kneeling once more within the sacred gloom Where the White Maiden watched upon her tomb. BQs hopes of travel and a world-wide fame, Cold Time had sobered, and his fragile frame ; Content at last only in dreams to roam. Away from the tranquillity of home ; Content that the poor dwellers by his side Saw in him but the gentle friend and guide, The patient counsellor in the poor strife And petty details of their common life, — Who comforted where woe and grief might fall, Nor slighted any pain or want as small, But whose great heart took in and felt for all. Still he grew famous, — many came to be His puj)ils in the art of harmony. One day a voice floated so pure and free Above his music, that he turned to see What angel sang, and saw before his eyes. What made his heart leap with a strange surprise, His own White Maiden, cahn, and pure, and mUd, As in his childish dreams she sang and smiled, 5 98 A TOMB IN GHENT. Her eyes raised up to Heaven, her lips apart, And music overflowing from her heart. But the faint bkish that tinged her cheek betrayed No marble statue, but a living maid ; Perplexed and startled at his wondering look, Her rustling score of Mozart's Sanctus shook ; The uncertain notes, like birds within a snare, Fluttered and died upon the trembling air. Days passed, each morning saw the maiden stand, Her eyes cast down, her lesson in her hand, Eager to study, never weary, while Repaid by the approving word or smile Of her kind master ; days and months fled on ; One day the pupil from the choir was gone ; Gone to take hght, and joy, and youth once more, Within the poor musician's humble door ; And to repay, with gentle happy art. The debt so many owed his generous heart. And now, indeed, was one who knew and felt That a great gift of God within him dwelt ; One who could listen, who could understand. Whose idle work dropped from her slackened hand. While with wet eyes entranced she stood, nor knew ATOMBIN GHENT. 9^ How the melodious winged hours flew ; "Who loved his art as none had loved before, Yet prized the noble tender spirit more. "While the great organ brought from far and near Lovers of harmony to praise and hear, "Unmarked by aught save what filled every day. Duty, and toil, and rest, years passed away : And now by the low archway in the shade beside her mother knelt a little maid, "Who, through the great cathedral learned to roam, Climb to the choir and bring her father home ; And stand demure, and solemn by his side. Patient tUl the last echo softly died. Then place her little hand in his, and go Down the dark winding stair to where below The mother knelt, within the gathering gloom "Waiting and praying by the Maiden's Tomb. So their Ufe went, until, one wuiter's day, Father and child came there alone to pray ; — The mother, gentle soul, had fled away ! Their life was altered now, and yet the chUd Forgot her passionate grief m time, and smiled. Half-wondering why, when spring's fresh breezes came. 100 A TOMB IN GHENT. And summer flowers, he was not the same. Half guessing at the shadow of his pain, And then contented if he smiled again, A sad cold smile, that passed in tears away. As re-assured she ran once more to play. And now each year that added grace to grace, Fresh bloom and sunshine to the young girl's face, Brought a strange light in the musician's eyes, As if he saw some starry hope arise. Breaking upon the midnight of sad skies : It might be so : more feeble year by year, The wanderer to his resting-place drew near. One day the Gloria he could play no more, Echoed its grand rejoicing as of yore, His hands were clasped, his weary head was laid, Upon the tomb where the White Maiden prayed ; Where the child's love first dawned, his soul first spoke. The old man's heart there throbbed its last and broke. The grave cathedral that had nursed his youth, Had helped his dreaming, and had taught him truth. Had seen his boyish grief and baby tears. And watched the sorrows and the joys of years, A TOMB IN GHENT. 101 Had lit his fame and hope with sacred rays, And consecrated sad and happy days, — Had blessed his happiness, and soothed his pain, Now took her faithful servant home again. He rests in peace, some travellers mention yet An organist whose name they all forget : He has a holier and a nobler fame By poor men's hearths, who love and bless the name Of a kind friend ; and in low tones to-day, Speak tenderly of him who passed away. Too poor to help the daughter of their friend, They grieved to see the little pittance end ; To see her toil and strive with cheerful heart ; To bear the lonely orphan's struggling part ; They grieved to see her go at last alone To English kinsmen she had never known : And here she came : the foreign girl soon found Welcome, and love, and plenty all around. And here she pays it back with earnest will, By weU-taught housewife watchfulness and skiU. Deep in her heart she holds her father's name, And tenderly and j)roudly keeps his fame ; And while she works with thrifty Belgian care. 102 A TOMB IN GHENT. Past dreams of childhood float upon the air ; Some strange old chant, or solemn Latin hymn That echoed through the old cathedral dim, When as a little child each day she went To kneel and pray by an old tomb in Ghent. THE ANGEL OF DEATH. Why shouldst thou fear the beautiful angel, Death, Who waits thee at the portals of the skies, Ready to kiss away thy struggling breath. Ready with gentle hand to close thine eyes ? How many a tranquil soul has passed away. Fled gladly from fierce pain and pleasures dim, To the eternal splendour of the day; And many a troubled heart still calls for him. Spirits too tender for the battle here Have turned from life, its hopes, its fears, its charms ; THE ANGEL OF DEATH. 103 And children, shuddering at a world so drear, Have smiling passed away into his arms. He whom thou fearest will, to ease its pain. Lay his cold hand upon thy aching heart ; Will soothe the terrors of thy troubled bram, And bid the shadow of earth's grief depart. He will give back what neither time, nor might, Nor passionate prayer, nor longing hope restore, (Dear as to long blind eyes recovered sight,) He will give back those who are gone before. O, what were life, if life were all ? Thine eyes Are blinded by their tears, or thou wouldst see Thy treasures wait thee in the fai'-off skies, And Death, thy friend, will give them all to thee. A DKEAM. All yesterday I was spinning, Sitting alone in the sun ; And the dream that I spun was so lengthy, It lasted till day was done. I heeded not cloud or shadow That flitted over the hill. Or the humming-bees, or the swallows. Or the trickhng of the rill. I took the threads for my sj)inning. All of blue summer air. And a flickering ray of sunlight Was woven in here and there. The shadows grew longer and longer. The evening wind passed by, A DREAM. 105 And the purple splendour of sunset Was flooding the western sky. But I could not leave my spinning, For so fau' my dream had grown, I heeded not, hour by hour, How the silent day had flown. At last the grey shadows fell round me, And the night came dark and chill. And I rose and ran down the valley. And left it all on the hill. I went up the hill this morning To the place where my sj)inning lay, There was nothing hut glistening dewdroj)s Remained of my dream to-day. THE PKESENT. Do not crouch to-day, and worship The old Past, whose life is fled. Hush your voice to tender reverence ; Crowned he Hes, but cold and dead : For the Present reigns our monarch. With an added weight of hours ; Honour her, for she is mighty! Honour her, for she is ours ! See the shadows of his heroes Girt around her cloudy throne ; And each day the ranks are strengthened By great hearts to him unknown ; Noble things the great Past promised, Holy dreams, both strange and new ; But the Present shall fulfil them, What he promised, she shall do. THE PRESENT. 107 She inherits all his treasures, She is heir to all his fame, And the light that lightens round her Is the lustre of his name ; She is wise with all his wisdom. Living on his grave she stands, On her brow she bears his laurels, And his harvests in her hands. Coward, can she reign and conquer If we thus her glory dim ? Let us fight for her as nobly As our fathers fought for him. God, who crowns the dying ages, Bids her rule, and us obey — Bids us cast our lives before her. With our loving hearts to-day ! CHANGES. MouKN, O rejoicing heart ! The hours are flying, Each one some treasure takes, Each one some blossom breaks, And leaves it dying ; The chill dark night draws near, Thy sun will soon dejsart, And leave thee sighinor ; Then mourn, rejoicing heart, The houi's are flying ! Rejoice, O grieving heart, The hours fly fast, With each some sorrow dies, With each some shadow flies. Until at last The red dawn in the east CHANGES. 109 Bids weary night depart, And pain is past. Rejoice, then, grieving heart, The hours fly fast ! A LAMENT FOll THE SUMMER. Moan, oh ye Autumn Winds ! Summer has fled, The flowers have closed their tender leaves and die ; The Lily's gracious head All low must lie, Because the gentle Summer now is dead. Grieve, oh ye Autumn Winds ! — ^ Summer lies low, The rose's trembling leaves will soon be shed ; For she that loved her so, Alas, is dead ; And one by one her loving children go. 110 A LAMENT FOK THE SUMMER. Wail, oh ye Autumn Winds ! She lives no more, The gentle Summer, with her balmy breath, StiU sweeter than before When nearer death, And brighter every day the smile she wore ! Mourn, mourn, oh Autumn Winds, Lament and mourn ; How many half-blown buds must close and die ; Hopes with the Summer born All faded lie, And leave us desolate and Earth forlorn ! STRIVE, WAIT, AND TEAY. Strive ; yet I do not promise The prize you dream of to-day, Will not fade when you think to grasp it, And melt in your hand away ; But another and holier treasure, You would now perchance disdam, Will come when your toil is over, And pay you for all your pain. Wait ; yet I do not teU you The hour you long for now, Wni not come with its radiance vanished, And a shadow upon its brow ; Yet far through the misty future, With a crown of starry light. An hour of joy you know not Is winging her silent flight. 112 STRIVE, WAIT, AND PEAY Pray ; though the gift you ask for May never comfort your fears. May never repay your pleading, Yet pray, with hopeful tears ; An answer, not that you long for. But diviner, will come one day ; Your eyes are too dim to see it, Yet strive, and wait, and pray. THE UXKXOWN GKAVE. No name to bid us know Who rests below, No word of death or birth, Only the grasses wave. Over a moimd of earth, Over a nameless grave. Did this poor wandering heart In pain depart ? THE UNKNOWN GKAVE. 113 Longing, but all too late, For the calm home again. Where patient watchers wait. And still will wait in vain. Did mourners come in scorn, And thus forlorn, Leave him with grief and shame. To silence and decay. And hide the tarnished name Of the unconscious clay ? It may he from his side His loved ones died. And last of some bright band, (Together now once more,) He sought his home, the land Where they were gone before. No matter, Umes have made As cool a shade. And lingering breezes pass As tenderly and slow, As if beneath the grass A monarch slept below. 114 THE UNKNOWN GRAVE. No grief, though loud and deep, Could stii' that sleep ; And earth and heaven teU Of rest that shall not cease Where the cold world's farewell Fades into endless peace. GIVE ME THY HEAET. With echoing steps the worshippers Departed one by one. The organ's pealing voice was stilled, The vesper hymn was done ; The shadows feU from i-oof and arch, Dim was the incensed air, One lamj) alone with trembling ray, Told of the Presence there ! In the dark church she knelt alone ; Her tears were falling fast ; GIVE ME THY HEART. 115 " Help, Lord," she cried, " the shades of death Upon my soul are cast ! Have I not shunned the path of sin, And chosen the better part ? " What voice came through the sacred air ? — " 3Iy child^ give me thy Heart ! " " Have I not laid before Thy shrine My wealth, oh Lord ? " she cried ; " Have I kept aught of gems or gold, To minister to pride ? Have I not bade youth's joys retire, And vain deUghts depart ? " But sad and tender was the voice, — " 3fy child^ give me thy Heart ! " " Have I not, Lord, gone day by day Where Thy poor children dwell ; And carried help, and gold, and food ? Oh Lord, Thou knowest it well ! From many a house, from many a soul, My hand bids care depart ; " — More sad, more tender, was the voice, — " My child, give me thy Heart 1 " 116 GIVE ME THY HEART. " Have I not worn my strength away "With fast and penance sore ? Have I not watched and wept ? " she cried ; " Did Thy dear Saints do more ? Have I not gained Thy grace, oh Lord, And won in Heaven my part ? " It echoed louder in her soul, — " My child^ give me thy Heart ! " For I have loved thee with a love No mortal heart can show ; A love so deej), my Saints in heaven Its depths can never know : When pierced and wounded on the Cross, Man's sin and doom were mine, I loved thee with undying love, Immortal and divine ! " I loved thee ere the skies were spread ; My soul bears aU thy pains ; To gain thy love my sacred Heart In earthly shrines remains : Vain are thy oiferings, vain thy sighs, Without one gift divine ; GIVE ME THY HEART. 117 Give it, my child, thy Heart to me, And it shall rest in mine ! " In awe she listened, and the shade Passed from her soul away ; In low and trembling voice she cried — " Lord, help me to obey ! Break Thou the chains of eai-th, oh Lord, That bind and hold my heart ; Let it be Thine, and Thine alone, Let none with Thee have part. " Send down, oh Lord, Thy sacred fire ! Consume and cleanse the sin That lingers still within its depths ; Let heavenly love begin. That sacred flame Thy Saints have known, Kindle, oh Lord, in me. Thou above all the rest for ever, And all the rest in Thee." The blessing fell upon her soul ; Her angel by her side 118 GIVE ME THY HEART. Knew that the hour of peace was come, Her soul was purified : The shadows fell from roof and arch, Dim was the incensed air ; — But Peace went with her as she left The sacred Presence there ! THE WAYSIDE INN. A LITTLE past the village The Inn stood, low and white ; Green shady trees behind it, And an orchard on the right ; "Where over the green paling The red-cheeked apples hung, As if to watch how wearily The sign-board creaked and swung. The heavy-laden branches Over the road huug low. THE WAYSIDE INN. 119 Reflecting fruit or blossom In the wayside well below ; Where childi-en, drawing water, Looked up and paused to see, Amid the apple branches, A purple Judas tree. The road stretched winding onward For many a weary mile — So dusty footsore wanderers Would pause and rest awhile ; And panting horses halted, And travellers loved to tell The quiet of the wayside inn, The orchard and the well. Here Maurice dwelt ; and often The sunburnt boy would stand Gazing upon the distance, And shading with his hand His eyes, while watching vainly For travellers, who might need His aid to loose the bridle, And tend the weary steed. 120 THE WAYSIDE INN. And once (the boy remembered That morning many a day — The dew lay on the hawthorn, The bird sang on the spray) A train of horsemen, nobler Than he had seen before, Up from the distance gallopped, And paused before the door. Upon a milk-white pony, Fit for a faery queen, Was the loveliest little damsel His eyes had ever seen ; A servant man was holding The leading rein, to guide The pony and its mistress "Who cantered by his side. Her sunny ringlets round her A golden cloud had made, While her large hat was keeping Her cahn blue eyes in shade ; One hand held firm the silken reins To keep her steed in check, THE WAYSIDE INN. 121 The other pulled his tangled mane, Or stroked his glossy neck. ') And as the boy brought water, And loosed the rein, he heard The sweetest voice, that thanked him In one low gentle word ; She turned her blue eyes from hira, Looked uj), and smiled to see The hanging jiurple blossoms Upon the Judas Tree, And showed it with a gesture, Half pleading, half command, TiU he broke the fairest blossom, And laid it in her hand ; And she tied it to her saddle With a ribbon from her hair. While her happy laugh rang gaily, Like silver on the air. But the champing steeds were rested — The horsemen now spurred on, 6 122 THE WATSIDE INN. And down the dusty highway They vanished and were gone. Years passed, and many a traveller Paused at the old inn-door But the httle milk-white pony And the child returned no more. Years passed, the apple-branches A deeper shadow shed ; And many a time the Judas Tree, Blossom and leaf lay dead ; When on the loitering western breeze Came the bells' merry sound, And flowery arches rose, and flags And banners waved around. Maurice stood there expectant. The bridal train would stay Some moments at the inn-door, The eager watchers say ; They come — the cloud of dust draws near- 'Mid all the state and pride, He only sees the golden hair And blue eyes of the bride. THE WAYSIDE INN. 123 The same, yet, ah, still fairer, He knew the face once more That bent above the pony's neck Tears past at the inn-door : Her shy and s mili ng eyes looked round, Unconscious of the place — Unconscious of the eager gaze He fixed upon her face. He plucked a blossom from the tree — The Judas Tree — and cast Its purple fragrance towards the Bride, A message from the Past. The signal came, the horses plunged — Once more she smiled around : The pui'iDle blossom in the dust Lay trampled on the ground. Again the slow years fleeted. Their passage only known By the height the Passion-flower Around the porch had grown ; And many a passing traveller Paused at the old inn-door, 124 THE WAYSIDE INN. But the bride, so fair and blooming, Returned there never more. One winter morning, IVIaurice, Watching the branches bare, Rustling and waving dimly In the gray and misty air. Saw blazoned on a carriage Once more the well-known shield. The azure fleurs-de-lis and stars Upon a silver field. He looked — was that pale woman, So grave, so worn, so sad, The child, once young and smiling. The bride once fair and glad ? What grief had dimmed that glory, And brought that dark ecHpse Upon her blue eyes' radiance. And paled those trembling lips ? What memory of past sorrow. What stab of present pain, THE WAYSIDE INN, 125 Brouglit that deep look of anguish, That watched the dismal rain, That watched (with the absent spirit That looks, yet does not see) The dead and leafless branches Upon the Judas Tree. The slow dark months crept onward Upon their icy way, 'Till AprU broke in showers, And Spring smiled forth in May ; Upon the apple-blossoms The sun shone bright agam, When slowly up the highway Came a long funeral train. "& The bells tolled slowly, sadly. For a noble spirit fled ; Slowly, m pomp and honour. They bore the quiet dead. Upon a black-plumed charger One rode, who held a shield. Where azure fleurs-de-lis and stars Shone on a silver field. 126 THE WAYSIDE INN. 'Mid all that homage given To a fluttering heart at rest, Perhaps an honest sorrow Dwelt only in one breast. One by the inn-door standing Watched with fast-dropping tears The long procession passing, And thought of bygone years. The boyish, silent homage To child and bride unknown, The pitying tender sorrow Kept in his heart alone, Now laid upon the coffin With a purjile flower, might be Told to the cold dead sleejier ; — The rest could only see A fragrant purple blossom. Plucked from a Judas Tree. VOICES OF THE PAST. You wonder that my tears shoiild floAV In listening to that simple strain ; That those unskilful sounds should fill My soul with joy and pain — How can you tell what thoughts it stirs Within my heart again ? You wonder why that common phrase, So all unmeaning to your ear, Should stay me in my merriest mood, And thrill my soul to hear — How can you tell what ancient charm Has made me hold it dear ? You marvel that I turn away From all those flowers so fair and bright, 128 VOICES OF THE PAST. And gaze at this poor herb, till tears Arise and dim my sight — You cannot tell how every leaf Breathes of a past dehght. You smile to see me turn and speak With one whose converse you despise, You do not see the dreams of old That with his voice arise — How can you tell what links have made Him sacred in my eyes ? O, these are Voices of the Past, Links of a broken chain, Wings that can bear me back to Times Which cannot come again ; — Yet God forbid that I should lose The echoes that remain ! THE Dx\RK SIDE. Thou Last done well, perhaps, To lift the bright disguise. And lay the bitter truth Before our shrinking eyes ; When evil crawls below, What seems so j^ure and fair, Thine eyes are keen and true To find the serpent there : And yet — I turn away. Thy task is not divine. The evil angels look On earth with eyes Uke thine. Thou hast done well, perhaps. To show how closely wound Dark threads of sin and self With our best deeds are found, 6* 130 THE DAEK SIDE, How great and noble hearts, Striving for lofty aims, Have still some earthly cord A meaner spirit claims ; And yet — although thy task Is well and fairly done, Methinks for such as thee There is a holier one. Shadows there are, who dwell Among us, yet apart, Deaf to the claim of God, Or kindly human heart ; Voices of earth and heaven Call, but they tui-n away, And Love, through such black night. Can see no hope of day ; And yet — our eyes are dim, And thine are keener far ; Then gaze until thou seest The glimmer of some star. The black stream flows along Whose waters we despise, — THE DAEK SIDE. 131 Show us reflected there Some fi-agment of the skies ; 'Neath tangled thorns and briars, (The task is fit for thee,) Seek for the hidden flowers, We are too blind to see ; Then will I thy great gift A crown and blessing call ; Angels look thus on men. And God sees good in all ! A FIKST SOEEOW. Arise ! this day shall shine, For evermore, To thee a star divine On Time's dark shore. Till now thy soul has been All glad and gay : Bid it awake, and look At grief to-day ! 132 A FIRST SOEKOW. No shade has come between Thee and the sun ; Like some long childish dream Thy life has run : But now, the stream has reached A dark deep sea, And Sorrow, dim and crowned. Is waiting thee. Each of God's soldiers bears A sword divine : Stretch out thy trembling hands To-day for thine ! To each anointed Priest God's summons came : Oh, Soul, he speaks to-day And calls thy name. Then, with slow reverent step, And beating heai't, From out thy joyous days, Thou must depart. A FIRST SORROAV. 133 And, leaving all beliind, Come forth, alone, To join the chosen band Around the throne. Raise up thine eyes — ^be strong, Nor cast away The crown, that God has given Thy soul to-day ! MURMUES. Why wilt thou make bright music Give forth a sound of pain ? Why wilt thou weave fair flowers Into a weary chain ? Why turn each cool grey shadow Into a world of fears ? Why say the winds are wailing ? Why call the dewdrops tears ? 134 MUKMUES. The voices of liajjpy nature, And the Heaven's sunny gleam, Reprove thy sick heart's fancies. Upbraid thy foolish dream. Listen, and I will tell thee The song Creation sings. From the humming of bees in the heather, To the flutter of angels' wings. An echo rings for ever, The sound can never cease ; It speaks to God of glory. It speaks to Earth of peace. Not alone did angels sing it To the poor shepherds' ear ; But the sphered Heavens chant it, WhUe listening ages hear. Above thy peevish wailing Rises that holy song ; Above earth's foolish clamour, Above the voice of wrong. MUKMURS. 135 No creature of God's too lowly To murmur peace and praise ; When the starry nights grow silent, Then speak the sunny days. So leave thy sick heart's fancies, And lend thy little voice To the silver song of glory That bids the world rejoice ! GIVE. See the rivers flowing Downward to the sea, Pouring all their treasures Bountiful and free — Yet to help their giving Hidden springs arise ; Or, if need be, showers Feed them from the skies 136 GIVE. Watch the princely flowers Theu' rich fragrance spread, Load the air with perfumes, From their beauty shed — Yet their lavish spending, Leaves them not ui dearth. With fresh life replenished By their mother earth ! Give thy heart's best treasures- From fair Nature learn ; Give thy love, — and ask not, Wait not a retm-n ! And the more thou spendest From thy Uttle store, With a double bounty, God will give thee more. MY JOUENAL. It is a dreaiy evening ; The shadows rise and fall ; With strange and ghostly changes, They flicker on the wall. Make the charred lo2:s burn briirhter ; I will show you, by their blaze, The half-forgotten record Of bygone things and days. Bring here the ancient volume ; The clasp is old and worn ; The gold is dim and tarnished, And the faded leaves are torn. The dust has gathered on it — There are so few who care To read what Time has written Of joy and sorrow there. 138 MY JOURNAL. Look at the first fair pages ; Yes, — I remember all : The joys now seem so trivial, The griefs so poor and small. Let us read the dreams of glory That childish fancy made ; Turn to the next few pages, And see how soon they fade. Here, where still waiting, dreaming. For some ideal Life, The young heart all imconscious Had entered on the strife. See how this page is blotted : What — could those tears be mine ? How coolly I can read you, Each blurred and trembling line. Now I can reason calmly, And looking back again, Can see divinest meaning Threading each separate pain. MY JOUKNAL. 139 Here strong resolve — how broken, Rash hope, and foolish fear, And prayers, which God in pity Refused to errant or hear. t>" Nay — I will turn the pages To where the tale is told Of how a dawn diviner Flushed the dark clouds with gold. And see, that Ught has gilded The story — nor shall set, And, though in mist and shadow, You know I see it yet. Here — well, it does not matter, I promised to read all ; I know not why I falter. Or why my tears should fall. You see each grief is noted ; Yet it was better so — I can rejoice to-day — the pain Was over, long ago. 140 MY JOUKNAL. I read — ^my voice is failing, But you can understand How tlie heart beat that guided This weak and trembling hand. Pass over that long struggle, Read where the comfort came. And where the first is written Within the book your name. Again it comes, and oftener Linked, as it now must be. With all the joy or sorrow That Life may bring to me. So all the rest — you know it : Now shut the clasi) again, And put aside the record Of bygone hours of pain. The dust shall gather on it, I wiU not read it more ; — Give me your hand — what was it We were talking of before? MY JOURNAL. 141 I know not why — ^but tell me Of something gay and bright. It is strange — ^my heart is heavy, And my eyes are dim to-night. A CHAIN. The bond that Unks our souls together Will it last through stormy weather ? Will it moulder and decay As the long hours fleet away ? Will it stretch if Tune divide us, When dark weary hours have tried us ? If it look too jjoor and slight Let us break the links to-night. It was not forged by mortal hands, Or clasped with golden bars and bands ; Save thine and mine, no other eyes The slender link can recognize : 142 A CHAIN", In the bright light it seems to fade — And it is hidden in the shade ; While Heaven or Earth have never heard, Or solemn vow, or phghted word ; Yet what no mortal hand could make, No mortal power can ever break ; What words or vows could never do, No words or vows can make untrue : And if to other hearts unknown The dearer and the more our own, Because too sacred and divine For other eyes save thine and mine. ' 5 And see, though slender, it is made Of Love and Trust, and can they fade ? While, if too slight it seem, to bear The breathings of the simimer air, We know that it could bear the weight Of a most heavy heart of late, And as each day and hour has flown Stronger for its great burden grown. A CHAIN. 143 And, too, we know and feel again It has been sanctified by pain. For what God deigns to try with sorrow He means not to decay to-morrow, But through that fiery trial last When earthly ties and bonds are past ; What slighter things dare not endure Will make our Love more safe and pure. Love shaU be purified by Pain, And Pain be soothed by Love again ; So let us now take heart and go Cheerfully on, through joy and woe ; No change the summer sun can bring, Or even the changing skies of spring, Or the bleak winter's stormy weather. For we shaU meet them, Love, together ! THE PILGRIMS. The way is long and dreary, The path is hleak and bare : Our feet are worn and weary, But we will not despair. More heavy was Thy burden, More desolate Thy way ; Oh Lamb of God who takest The sin of the world away, Save mercy on us. The snows lie thick around us In the dark and gloomy night ; .And the tempest wails above us, And the stars have hid their light ; But blacker was the darkness Round Calvary's Cross that day ; — Oh Lamb of God who takest The sin of the world away, Have mercy on us. THE PILGRIMS. 145 Oui* hearts are faint with sorrow, Heavy and hard to bear ; For we dread the bitter morrow, But we will not despair ; Thou knowest all our anguish, And Thou wilt bid it cease, — Oh Lamb of God who takest The sin of the world away, Give ns Thy Peace ! INCOMPLETENESS. Nothing resting in its oWn completeness Can have worth or beauty ; but alone Because it leads and tends to farther sweetness, Fuller, higher, deejjer than its own. Spring's real glory dwells not in the meaning. Gracious though it be, of her blue hours; But is hidden in her tender leaning Towards the Summer's richer wealth of flowers. 7 146 INCOMPLETENESS. Dawn is fair, because her mists fade slowly Into Day, which floods the world with light; TwiUght's mystery is so sweet and holy Just because it ends in starry Night. Life is only bright when it proceedeth Towards a truer deeper Life above ; Human Love is sweetest when it leadeth To a more divine and perfect Love. Childhood's smiles unconscious graces borrow From Strife, that in a far-off future Hes ; And angel glances (veiled now by Life's sorrow) Draw our hearts to some beloved eyes. Learn the mystery of Progression duly : Do not caU each glorious change Decay ; But know we only hold our treasures truly, When it seems as if they passed away. Nor dare to blame God's gifts for incompleteness ; In that want their beauty lies : they roll Towards some infinite depth of love and sweetness, Bearing onward man's reluctant soul. A LEGEND OF BKEGENZ. Girt round with rugged mountains The fair Lake Constance lies ; Li her blue heart reflected, Shine back the starry skies ; And watching each white cloudlet Float silently and slow, You think a piece of Heaven Lies on our earth below ! Midnight is there : and silence Enthroned in Heaven, looks down Upon her own calm mirror. Upon a sleeping town : For Bregenz, that quaint city Upon the Tyrol shore, Has stood above Lake Constance, A thousand years and more. 148 A LEGEND OF BREGENZ. Her battlements and towers, Upon their rocky steep, Have cast their trembling shadow For ages on the deep ; Mountain, and lake, and valley, A sacred legend know. Of how the town was saved one night, Three hundred years ago. Far from her home and kindred, A Tyrol maid had fled, To serve in the Swiss valleys. And toil for daily bread ; And every year that fleeted So sUently and fast. Seemed to bear farther from her The memory of the Past. She served kind, gentle masters, Nor asked for rest or change ; Her friends seemed no more new ones, Their speech seemed no more strange ; And when she led her cattle To pasture every day. A LEGEND OP BREGENZ. 149 She ceased to look and wonder On which side Bregenz lay. She spoke no more of Bregenz, With longing and vnih tears ; Her Tyrol home seemed faded In a deep mist of years ; She heeded not the rumours Of Austrain war or strife ; Each day she rose contented, To the calm toils of life. Yet, when her master's children Would clustering round her stand, She sang them the old ballads Of her own native land ; And when at moi'n and evening She knelt before God's throne. The accents of her childhood Rose to her lips alone. And so she dwelt : the valley More ijeaceful year by year ; 150 A LEGEND OF BEEGENZ. When suddenly strange portents, Of some great deed seemed near. The golden corn was bending Upon its fragile stalk, While farmers, heedless of their fields, Paced up and down in talk. The men seemed stern and altered, With looks cast on the ground ; With anxious faces, one by one, The women gathered round ; All talk of flax, or spinning, Or work, was put away ; The very children seemed afraid To go alone to play. One day, out in the meadow With strangers from the town, Some secret plan discussing, The men walked up and down. Yet, now and then seemed watching, A strange uncertain gleam. That looked like lances 'mid the trees, That stood below the stream. A LEGEND OF BEEGENZ. 151 At eve they all assembled, All care and doubt were fled ; With jovial laugh they feasted, The board was nobly spread. The elder of the village Rose up, his glass in hand. And cried, " We drink the downfal " Of an accursed land ! " The night is growing darker, " Ere one more day is flown, " Bregenz, our foemen's stronghold, " Bregenz shaU be our own ! " The women shrank in terror, (Yet Pride, too, had her part,) But one poor Tyrol maiden Felt death within her heart. Before her, stood fair Bregenz, Once more her towers arose ; What were the friends beside her ? Only her country's foes ! The faces of her kinsfolk, The days of childhood flown. 152 A LEGEND OP BEEGENZ. The echoes of her mountains Reclaimed her as their own ! Nothing she heard around her, (Though shouts rang forth again,) Gone were the green Swiss valleys, The pasture, and the plain ; Before her eyes one vision, And in her heai*t one cry, That said, " Go forth, save Bregenz, And then, if need be, die ! " With trembling haste and breathless, With noiseless step she sped; Horses and weary cattle Were standing in the shed ; She loosed the strong white charger. That fed from out her hand, She mounted and she turned his head Towards her native land. Out — out into the darkness- Faster, and still more fast ; A LEGEND OF BEEGENZ. 153 The smooth grass flies behind her, The chestnut wood is past ; She looks up ; clouds are heavy : Why is her steed so slow ? — Scarcely the wind beside them, Can pass them as they go. " Faster ! " she cries, " O faster ! " Eleven the church-beUs chime ; " O God," she cries, " help Bregenz, And bring me there in time ! " But louder than beUs' ringing, Or lowing of the krne. Grows nearer in the midnight The rushing of the Rhine. Shall not the roaring waters Then- headlong gaUop check ? The steed draws back in terror, She leans above his neck To watch the flowing darkness. The bank is high and steep. One pause — he staggers forward. And plunges in the deep. 154 A LEGEND OF BKEGENZ. She strives to pierce the blackness, And looser throws the rein ; Her steed must breast the waters That dash above his mane. How gallantly, how nobly, He struggles through the foam, And see — in the far distance. Shine out the hghts of home ! Up the steej) bank he bears her, And now they rush again Towards the heights of Bregenz, That tower above the plain. They reach the gate of Bregenz, Just as the midnight rings. And out come serf and soldier To meet the news she brings. Bregenz is saved ! Ere daylight Her battlements are manned ; Defiance greets the army That marches on the land. And if to deeds heroic Should endless fame be paid, A LEGEND OF BEEGENZ. 155 Bre2:enz does well to honour The noble Tyrol maid. Three hundred years are vanished, And yet upon the hill An old stone gateway rises, To do her honour still. And there, when Bregenz women Sit spinning in the shade, They see in quaint old carving The Charger and the Maid. And when, to guard old Bregenz, By gateway, street, and tower, The warder paces all night long. And calls each passing hour : " Nine," " ten," " eleven," he cries aloud, And then (O crown of Fame ! ) When midnight pauses in the skies. He calls the maiden's name ! A. FAEEWELL. Fakewell, oh Dream of mine ! I dare not stay ; The hour is come, and time Will not delay : Pleasant and dear to me Wilt thou remain, No ffiture hour Brings thee again. She stands, the Future dim. And draws me on ; And shows me dearer joys — But thou art gone ! Treasures and Hopes more fair, Bears she for me. And yet I linger, O dream, with thee ! A FAREWELL. 157 ^Othei' and brighter clays, PerliajDS she brings ; Deeper and hoher songs, Perchance she sings ; But thou and I, fair time. We two must sever ; Oh dream of mine, Farewell for ever ! SOWmG AND EEAPmO. Sow with a generous hand ; Pause not for toil or paia ; Weary not through the heat of summer, Weary not through the cold spring rain ; But wait till the autumn comes For the sheaves of golden grain. Scatter the seed, and fear not, A table wUl be spread ; 158 SOWING AND REAPING. What matter if you are too weary To eat your hard-earned bread : Sow, while the earth is broken, For the hungry must be fed. Sow ; — while the seeds are lying In the warm earth's bosom deep, And your warm tears fall upon it — They will stir in their quiet sleep ; And the green blades rise the quicker, Perchance, for the tears you weep. Then sow ; — for the hours are fleeting, And the seed must fall to-day ; And care not what hands shall reap it, Or if you shall have passed away Before the waving corn-fields Shall gladden the sunny day. Sow ; and look onward, upward, Where the starry light appears — Where, in spite of the coward's doubting, Or your own heart's trembling fears, You shall reap in joy the harvest You have sown to-day in tears. THE STORM. The tempest rages wild and high, The waves lift up their voice and cry Fierce answers to the angry sky, — Miserere Domine. Through the black night and driving rain, A ship is struggling, all in vain To live upon the stormy maui ; — Miserere Domine. The thimders roar, the lightnings glare, Vain is it now to strive or dare ; A cry goes up of great despaii", — Miserere Domine. The stormy voices of the main, The moaning wind, and pelting rain Beat on the nursery window pane : — Miserere Domiiie. 160 THE STORM. Warm curtained was the little bed, Soft pillowed was the little head ; " The storm will wake the child," they said Miserere Domine. Cowering among his pillows white He prays, his blue eyes dim with fright, " Father, save those at sea to-night ! " — Miserere Domine. The morning shone all clear and gay. On a ship at anchor in the bay, And on a little child at play, — Gloria tibi Dotnine I WOEDS. WoEDS are lighter than the cloud-foam Of the restless ocean spray ; Vainer than the trembling shadow- That the next hour steals away. By the fall of summer raindrops Is the air as deeply sth-red ; And the rose-leaf that we tread on Will outHve a word. Yet on the dull silence breaking With a lightning flash, a Word, Bearing endless desolation On its blighting wings, I heard : Earth can forge no keener weapon, Dealing surer death and pain, And the cruel echo answered Through long years again. 162 wo EDS. I have known one word hang starlike O'er a dreary waste of years, And it only shone the brighter Looked at through a mist of tears ; While a weary wanderer gathered Hope and heart on Life's dark way, By its faithful promise, shining Clearer day by day. I have known a spii'it, calmer Than the calmest lake, and clear As the heavens that gazed upon it, "With no wave of hope or fear ; But a storm had swept across it. And its deepest depths were stirred, (Never, never more to slumber,) Only by a word. I have known a word more gentle Than the breath of summer air, In a listening heart it nestled, And it lived for ever there. Not the beating of its i>rison Stirred it ever, night or day : WORDS. 163 Only with the heart's last throbbing Could it fade away. Words are mighty, words are living : Serpents with their venomous stings, Or bright angels, crowding round us, With heaven's light uj)on their wings : Every word has its own spu-it. True or false, that never dies ; Every word man's lips have uttered Echoes in God's skies. A LOYE TOKEN. Do you grieve no costly offering To the Lady you can make ? One there is, and gifts less worthy Queens have stooped to take. Take a Heart of virgin silver, Fashion it with heavy blows. 164 A LOVE TOKEN. Cast it then in Love's hot furnace When it fiercest glows. With Pain's sharpest point transfix it, And then carv^e in letters fair, Tender dreams and quaint devices, Fancies sweet and rare. Set within it Hope's blue sapphire, Many changing opal fears, Blood-red ruby-stones of daring Mixed with pearly tears. And when you have wrought and laboured Till the gift is all complete, You may humbly lay your offering At the Lady's feet. Should her mood perchance be gracious, — With disdainful smiUng pride. She will place it with the trinkets Glittering at her side. A TEYST WITH DEATH. I AM footsore and very weary, But I travel to meet a Friend : The way is long and dreary, But I know that it soon must end. He is travelling fast like the whirlwind, And though I creep slowly on, We are drawing nearer, nearer. And the journey is almost done ! Through the heat of many summers, Through many a spring-time rain, Thi'ough long autumns and weary winters, I have hoped to meet him, in vain. I know that he wiU not fail me. So I count every hour chime. 166 A TRYST WITH DEATH, Every throb of my own heart's beating, That tells of the flight of Time. On the day of my birth he plighted His kingly word to me : — I have seen him in dreams so often, That I know what his smile must be. I have toiled through the sunny woodland, Through fields that basked in the light, And through the lone paths in the forest ' I crept in the dead of night. I will not fear at his coming, Although I must meet him alone ; He will look in my eyes so gently. And take my hand in his own. Like a dream all my toil will vanish. When I lay my head on his breast ; But the journey is very weary, And he only can give me rest ! FIDELIS. You have taken back the promise That you spoke so long ago ; Taken back the heart you gave me — I must even let it go. Where Love once hath breathed, Pride dieth ; So I struggled, but in vain. First to keep the links together, Then to piece the broken chain. But it might not be — so freely All your friendship I restore. And the heart that I had taken As my own for evermore. No shade of reproach shall touch you, Dread no more a claim from me ; — But I wiU not have you fancy That I count myself as free. I am bound with the old promise ; What can break that golden chain ? 168 FI DELIS. Not even the words that you have spoken, Or the sharpness of my pain ; Do you think, because you fail me And draw back your hand to-day. That from out the heart I gave you My strong love can fade away ? It win live. No eyes may see it, In my soul it will lie deep, Hidden fi-om all ; but I shall feel it Often stirring in its sleep. So remember, that the fi-iendship Which you now think poor and vain, Will endure in hope and. patience. Till you ask for it again. Perhaps in some long twilight hour, Like those we have known of old. When past shadows gather round you. And your present friends grow cold. You may stretch your hands towards me, — Ah ! you will — I know not when — I shall nurse my love and keep it Faithfully for you, till then. A SHADOW. What lack the valleys and moimtains That once were green and gay ? What lack the babbling fountains ? Their voice is sad to-day. Only the sound of a voice, Tender and sweet and low, That made the earth rejoice, A year ago ! What lack the tender flowers ? A shadow is on the sun : What lack the merry hours, That I long that they were done ? Only two smiling eyes, That told of joy and mirth ; They are shining in the skies, I mourn on earth ! 8 170 A SHADOW. What lacks my Iieai't, that makes it So weary and full of pain, That trembling Hope forsakes it, Never to come again ? Only another heart, Tender and all mine own, In the stiU grave it lies, I weep alone ! THE SAILOE BOY. Mt Life you ask of? why, you know Full soon my little Life is told ; It has had no great joy or woe. For I am only twelve years old. Ere long I hope I shall have been On my first voyage, and wonders seen. From princess I may heli^ to fi.*ee Some pirates on a fai'-ofi" sea ; Or, on some desert isle be left. Of friends and shipmates all bereft. THE SAILOR BOY. l7l For the first time I venture forth, From our bhie mountains of the north. My kinsman kept the lodge that stood Guardmg the entrance near the wood, By the stone gateway grey and old. With quaint devices carved about. And broken shields ; while dragons bold Glared on the common world without ; And the long trembling ivy spray Half hid the centuries' decay. In solitude and silence grand The castle towered above the land : The castle of the Earl, whose name (Wrapped in old bloody legends) came Down through the times when Truth and Right Bent down to arm6d Pride and Might. He o^vned the country far and near ; And, for some weeks in every year, (When the brown leaves were falling fast And the long, lingering autumn passed,) He would come down to hunt the deer. With hound and horse in splendid pride. The story lasts the live-long year, The peasant's winter evening fills. 172 THE SAILOR BOY, When he is gone and they abide In the lone quiet of their hills. I longed, too, for the happy night, When all with torches flaring bright The crowding villagers would stand, A j)atient, eager, waiting band, Until the signal ran like flame — "They come! " and, slackening speed, they came. Outriders first, in pomp and state. Pranced on their horses through the gate ; Then the four steeds as black as night, All decked with trappings blue and white. Drew through the crowd that opened wide, The Earl and Countess side by side. The stern grave Earl, with formal smUe And glistening eyes and stately pride, Could ne'er my childish gaze beguile From the fair presence by his side. The lady's soft sad glance, her eyes (Like stars that shone in summer skies,) Her pure white face so calmly bent, With gentle greetings round her sent ; Her look, that always seemed to gaze THE SAILOK BOY. I'JS Where the bkie past had closed again Over some happy shipwrecked days, With all their freight of love and pain. She did not even seem to see The Uttle lord upon her knee. And yet he was hke angel fair, With rosy cheeks and golden hair, That fell on shoulders white as snow : But the blue eyes that shone below His clustering rings of auburn curls, Were not his mother's, but the Earl's. I feared the Earl, so cold and grim, I never dared be seen by him. When through our gate he used to ride. My kinsman Walter bade me hide ; He said he was so stern. So, when the hunt came past our way, I always hastened to obey. Until I heard the bugles play The notes of their return. But she — my very heart-strings stir Whene'er I speak or think of her — The whole wide world could never see 174 THE SAILOK BOY. A noble lady such as she, So full of angel charity. Strange things of her our neighbours told In the long winter evenings cold, Around the fire. They would draw near And speak half- whispering, as in fear ; As if they thought the Earl could hear Their treason 'gainst his name. They thought the story that his pride Had stooped to wed a low-born bride, A stain upon his fame. Some say 'twas false ; there could not be Such blot on his nobUity : But others vowed that they had heard The actual story word for word. From one who well my lady knew. And had declared the story true. In a far village, little known. She dwelt — so ran the tale — alone. A widowed bride, yet, oh ! so bright, Shone through the mist of grief, her charms ; They said it was the loveliest sight, — THE SAILOR BOY. ITS She with her baby in her arms. The Earl, one summer morning, rode By the sea-shore where she abode ; Again he came, — that vision sweet Drew him reluctant to her feet. Fierce must the struggle in his heart Have been, between his love and pride, Until he chose that wondrous part, To ask her to become his bride. Yet, ere his noble name she bore, He made her vow that nevermore She would behold her chUd again, But hide his name and hers from men. The trembling promise duly spoken. All links of the low past were broken ; And she arose to take her stand Amid the nobles of the land. Then all Avould wonder, — could it be That one so lowly born as she. Raised to such height of bhss, should seem StUl living in some weary dream ? 'Tis true she bore with calmest grace The honours of her lofty place. Yet never smiled, in peace or joy, 176 THE SAILOR BOY. Not even to greet her princely boy. She heard, with face of white despair, The cannon thunder through the air, That she had given the Earl an heir. Nay, even more, (they whispered low, As if they scarce durst fancy so,) That, through her lofty wedded life, No word, no tone, betrayed the wife. Her look seemed ever in the past : Never to him it grew more sweet ; The self-same weary glance she cast Upon the grey-hound at her feet. As upon him, who bade her claim The croMTiing honour of his name. This gossip, if old Walter heard. He checked it with a scornful word : I never durst such tales repeat ; He was too serious and discreet To speak of what his lord might do ; Besides, he loved my lady too : And many a time, I recollect. They were together in the wood ; He, with an air of grave respect, THE SAILOR BOY. 177 And earnest look, uncovered stood. And though their sjjeech I never heard, (Save now and then a louder word,) I saw he spake as none but one She loved and trusted, durst have done ; For oft I watched them in the shade That the close foi'est branches made, TiU slanting golden sunbeams came And smote the fir-trees into flame, A radiant glory round her lit. Then down her white robe seemed to flit, Gilding the brown leaves on the groimd, And all the waving ferns around. While by some gloomy pine she leant And he in earnest talk would stand, I saw the tear-drops, as she bent. Fall on the flowers in her hand. — Strange as it seemed and seems to be. That one so sad, so cold as she. Could love a little child like me — Yet so it was. I never heard Such tender words as she would say. And murmiirs, sweeter than a word. Would breathe upon me as I lay. 178 THE SAILOR BOY. While I, in smiling joy, would rest, For lioui's, my head upon her breast. Our neighbours said that none could see In me the common childish charms, (So grave and still I used to be,) And yet she held me in her arms, In a fond clasp, so close, so tight, — I often dream of it at night. She bade me tell her aU — no other My childish thoughts e'er cared to know : For I — I never knew my mother ; I was an orphan long ago. And I could all my fancies pour. That gentle loving face before. She liked to hear me tell her all ; How that day I had climbed the tree. To make the largest fir-cones fall ; And how one day I hoped to be A saUor on the deej) blue sea — She loved to hear it all ! Then wondrous things she used to tell. Of the strange dreams that she had known. I used to love to hear them well, THE SAILOR BOY. 179 If only for her sweet low tone, Sometimes so sad, although I knew That such thhigs never could be true. One day she told me such a tale It made me grow all cold and pale, The fearful thing she told ! Of a poor woman mad and wild Who coined the hfe-blood of her child. And tempted by a fiend, had sold The heart out of her breast for gold. But, when she saw me frightened seem, She smiled, and said it was a dream. When I look back and think of her, My very heart-strings seem to stir ; How kind, how fair she was, how good I cannot tell you. If I could You, too, would love her. The mere thought Of her great love for me has brought Tears in my eyes : though far away, It seems as it were yesterday. And just as when I looked on high Through the blue silence of the sky. Fresh stars shine out, and more and more, Where I could see so feAV before ; 180 THE SAILOR BOY. So, the more steadily I gaze Upon those far-off misty days, Fresh words, fresh tones, fresh memories start Before my eyes and in my heart. I can remember how one day (Talking in silly childish way) I said how happy I should be If I were like her son — as fair, "With just such bright blue-eyes as he. And such long locks of golden hair. A dark smile on her pale face broke, And in strange solemn words she spoke : ""My own, my darling one — no, no ! I love you, far, far better so. I would not change the look you bear, Or one wave of your dark brown hair. The mere glance of your sunny eyes, Deep in my deepest soul I prize Above that baby fair ! Not one of aU the Earl's proud line In beauty ever matched with thine ; And, 'tis by thy dark locks thou art Bound even faster rovmd my heart, And made more wholly mine ! " THE SAILOK BOY. 181 And then she paused, and weeping said, " You are like one who now is dead — Who sleeps in a far-distant grave. may God grant that you may be As noble and as good as he, As gentle and as brave ! " Then in my chUdish way I cried, " The one you tell me of who died, Was he as noble as the Earl? " 1 see her red lips scornful curl, I feel her hold my hand again So tightly, that I shrank in pain — I seem to hear her say, " He whom I tell you of, who died. He was so noble and so gay, So generous and so brave, That the proud Earl by his dear side Would look a craven slave. " She paused ; then, with a quivering sigh. She laid her hand upon my brow : " Live Uke him, darling, and so die. Remember that he tells you now. True peace, real honour, and content, In cheerful pious toU abide ; 182 THE SAILOR BOY. That gold and splendour are but sent To curse our vanity and pride. " One day some childish fever pain Burnt in my veins and fired my brain. Moaning, I turned from side to side ; And, sobbing in my bed, I cried, Till night in calm and darkness crept Around me, and at last I slept. When suddenly I woke to see The Lady bendmg over me. The drops of cold November rain Were falling from her long, damp hair ; Her anxious eyes were dim vnih pain; Yet she looked wondrous fair. Arrayed for some great feast she came, With stones that shone and burnt like flame ; Wound round her neck, like some bright snake. And set like stars Avithin her hair. They sparkled so, they seemed to make A glory everywhere. I felt her tears upon my face. Her kisses on my eyes ; And a strange thought I could not trace THE SAILOE BOY. 183 I felt Avithin my heart arise ; And, half in feverish pain, I said : " O if my mother were not dead ! " And Walter bade me sleep ; but she Said, " Is it not the same to thee That Z watch by thy bed ? » I answered her, " I love you too ; But it can never be the same : She was no Countess like to you, Nor wore such sparkling stones of flame." the wild look of fear and dread ! The cry she gave of bitter woe ! 1 often wonder what I said To make her moan and shudder so. Through the long night she tended me With such sweet care and charity. But I should weary you to tell AU that I know and love so well : Yet one night more stands out alone With a sad sweetness all its o^tq. The wind blew loud that dreary night : Its waihng voice I well remember ; The stars shone out so large and bright 184 THE SAILOR BOY. Upon the frosty fii--bouglis white : That dreary night of cold December. I saw old Walter silent stand, "Watching the soft last flakes of snow With looks I could not understand Of strange perplexity and woe. At last he turned and took my hand, And said the Coimtess just had sent To bid us come ; for she would faui See me once more, before she went Away — never to come again. We came in silence through the wood (Our footfall was the only sound) To where the great white castle stood, With darkness shadowing it around. Breathless, we trod with cautious care Up the great echoing marble stair ; Trembling, by Walter's hand I held. Scared by the splendours I beheld : Now thinkmg, " Should the Earl appear ! " Now looking up with giddy fear To the dim vaulted roof, that sjn-ead Its gloomy arches overhead. Long corridors we softly past, THE SAILOR BOY. 185 (My heart was beating loud and fast) And reached the Lady's room at last : A strange famt odour seemed to weigh Upon the dim and darkened air ; One shaded lamp, with softened ray, Scarce showed the gloomy splendour there. The dull red brands were burmng low. And yet a fitful gleam of light. Would now and then with sudden glow, Start forth, then sink ag ain in night. I gazed around, yet half in fear. Till "Walter told me to draw near : And in the strange and flickering light. Towards the Lady's bed I crept ; AU folded round Avith snowy white, She lay ; (one would have said she slept ;) So still the look of that white face, It seemed as it were carved in stone, I paused before I dared to place Within her cold white hand my own. But, with a smile of sweet surprise. She turned to me her dreamy eyes ; And slowly, as if life were pain, She drew me in her arms to lie : 1.86 THE SAILOR BOY. She strove to speak, and strove in vain ; Each breath was like a long-drawn sigh ; The throbs that seemed to shake her breast, The trembUng clasj), so loose, and weak. At last grew calmer and at rest ; And then she strove once more to speak : " My God, I thank thee, that my pam Of day by day and year by year. Has not been suffered all in vain. And I may die while he is near. I will not fear but that Thy grace Has swept away my sin and woe. And sent this little angel face. In my last hour to tell me so." (And here her voice grew faint and low,) " My child, where'er thy life may go, To know that thou art brave and true, Will pierce the highest heavens through, And even there my soul shall be More joyful for this thought of thee." She folded her white hands, and stayed, All cold and silently she lay ; I knelt beside the bed, and prayed The prayer she used to make me say. THE SAILOK BOY. 187 I said it many times, and then She did not move, but seemed to be In a deep sleej), nor stii'red again. No sound woke in the silent room, Or broke the dim and solemn gloom, Save when the brands that burnt so low With noisy fitful gleam of hght. Would spread around a sudden glow. Then sink in silence and in night. How long I stood I do not know : At last poor Walter came and said (So sadly) that we now must go, And whispered, she we loved was dead. He bade me kiss her face once more, Then led me sobbing to the door. I scarcely knew what dying meant, Yet a strange grief, before unknown. Weighed on my spirit as we went And left hor lying all alone. We went to the far North once more, To seek the well-remembered home. Where my poor kinsman dwelt before. Whence now he was too old to roam ; 188 THE SAILOK BOY. And there six happy years we passed, Happy and peaceful till the last ; When poor old "Walter died, and he Blessed me and said I now might be A sailor on the deep blue sea. And so I go ; and yet in spite Of aU the joys I long to know, Though I look onward with delight. With something of regret I go. And young or old, on land or sea. One guiding memory I shaU take — Of what she j)rayed that I might be, And what I will be for her sake ! A CEOWN OF SOEEOW A SOREOW, wet with early tears Yet bitter, had been long with me ; I wearied of this weight of years, And would be free. I tore my Sorrow from my heart, I cast it far away in scorn ; Right joyful that we two could part, — Yet most forlorn. I sought, (to take my Sorrow's place,) Over the world for flower or gem, — But she had had an ancient grace Unknown to them ! I took once more with strange dehght My slighted sorrow ; proudly now, I wear it, set with stars of light. Upon my brow ! THE LESSON OF THE WAK. (1855.) The feast is spread through England For rich and i:>oor to-day ; Greetings and laughter may be there, But thoughts are far away ; Over the stormy ocean, Over the dreary track, Where some are gone, whom England WiU never welcome back. Breathless she waits, and listens Through every eastern breeze That bears upon its bloody wings News from beyond the seas. The leafless branches stirring Make many a watcher start ; The distant tramp of steed may send A throb from heart to heart. THE LESSON OF THE WAR. 191 The rulers of the nation, The poor ones at their gate, With the same eager wonder The same great news await ! The poor man's stay and comfort. The rich man's joy and pride. Upon the bleak Crimean shore Are fighting side by side. The bullet comes — and either A desolate hearth may see ; And God alone to-night knows where The vacant jAace may be ! The dread that stirs the peasant Thrills nobles' hearts with fear, — Yet above selfish sorrow Both hold their country dear. The rich man who reposes In his ancestral shade. The peasant at his ploughshare. The workman at his trade. Each one his all has perilled, Each has the same great stake ; 192 THE LESSON OF THE WAE. Each soul can but have patience, Each heart can only break ! Hushed is aU party clamour ; One thought in every heart, One dread in every household, Has bid such strife depart. England has caUed her children ; Long silent — the word came That Ht the smouldering ashes Through all the land to flame. O you who toil and suffer. You gladly heard the call ; But those you sometimes envy Have they not given their all ? O you who rule the nation. Take now the toil-worn hand, — Brothers you are in sorrow, In duty to your land. Learn but this noble lesson Ere j)eace returns again, And the life-blood of Old England Will not be shed in vain ! THE TWO SPIRITS. (1855.) Last night, when weary silence fell on all, And starless skies arose so dim and vast, I heard the Spirit of the Present call Upon the sleeping Spu-it of the Past. Far off and near, I saw their radiance shine. And listened while they spoke of deeds divine. The Bpirit of the Past. My deeds are writ in iron ; My glory stands alone ; A veil of shadowy honour Upon my tombs is thrown ; The great names of my heroes Like gems in history lie ; 9 194 THE TWO SPIRITS. To live they deemed ignoble, Had they the chance to die ! ITie Spirit of the Present. My children, too, are honoured ; Dear shall their memory be To the proud lands that own them ; Dearer than thine to thee ; For, though they hold that sacred Is God's great gift of life, At the first call of duty They rush into the strife ! The Spirit of the Past. Then, with all valiant precepts Woman's soft heart was fraught ; "Death, not dishonour," echoed The war-cry she had taught. Fearless and glad, those mothers. At bloody deaths elate. Cried out they bore their children Only for such a fate ! THE TWO SPIRITS. 195 The Spirit of the Present. Though such stern laws of honour Are faded now away, Yet many a mourning mother, With nobler grief than they, Bows down in sad submission : The heroes of the fiarht Learnt at her knee the lesson, " For God and for the Right ! " The /Spirit of the Past. No voice there spake of sorrow : They saw the noblest fall With no repining murniui" ; Stern Fate was lord of all ! And when the loved ones perished, One cry alone arose, Waking the startled echoes, " Vengeance upon our foes ! " 196 THE TWO SPIRITS. The Spirit of the Present. Grief dwells in France and Englaud For many a noble son ; Yet louder than the sorrow, " Thy will, O God, be done ! " From desolate homes is rising One prayer, " Let carnage cease ! On Mends and foes have mercy, O Lord, and give us peace ! " The Spirit of the Past. Then, every hearth was honoured That sent its children forth. To spread their country's glory, And gain her south or north. Then, little recked they mmibers, No band would ever fly. But stern and resolute they stood To conquer or to die. THE TWO SPIEITS. 197 The Spirit of the Present. And now from France and England Their dearest and their best Go forth to succour freedom, To help the much oppressed ; Now, let the far-off Future And Past bow dovs-n to-day. Before the few young hearts that hold Whole armaments at bay. The Spirit of the Past. Then, each one strove for honour, Each for a deathless name ; Love, home, rest, joy, were offered As sacrifice to Fame. They longed that in far ages Their deeds might still be told. And distant tunes and nations Their names in honour hold. 198 THE TWO SPIRITS, The Spirit of the Present. Though nursed by such old legends, Our heroes of to-day- Go cheerfully to battle As children go to play ; They gaze with awe and wonder On your great names of pride, Unconscious that their own will shine In glory side by side ! Day dawned ; and as the Spirits jsassed away, Methought I saw, in the dim morning grey, The Past's bright diadem had paled before The starry crown the glorious Present wore. A LITTLE LON^GEPv. A LITTLE longer yet — a little longer, Shall violets bloom for tbee, and sweet birds sino- ; And the lime branches where soft winds are blow- Shall mm-mur the sweet promise of the Spring ! A little longer yet — a little longer, Thou shalt behold the quiet of the morn : While tender grasses and awakenmg flowers Send up a purple mist to greet the dawn ! A little longer yet — a little longer, The tenderness of twilight shall be thine, The rosy clouds that float o'er dying daylight, Nor fade till trembluig stars begin to shine. A little longer yet — a little longer, Shall starry night be beautiful for thee ; — 200 A LITTLE LONGER. And the cold moon shall look through the blue silence, Flooding her silver path upon the sea. A little longer yet — a Httle longer, Life shall be thine ; life with its power to will ; Life with its strength to bear, to love, to conquer, Bringing its thousand joys thy heart to fill. A Httle longer yet — a little longer, The voices thou hast loved shall chaim thine ear ; And thy true heart, that now beats quick to hear them, A little longer yet shall hold them dear. A little longer yet — joy while thou mayest ; Love and rejoice ! for time has nought in store : And soon the darkness of the grave shall bid thee Love and rejoice and feel and know no more. A little longer stiU — Patience, Beloved : A little longer still, ere Heaven unroll A LITTLE LONGEE. 201 The Glory, and the Brightness, and the Wonder, Eternal, and divine, that waits thy Soul ! A little longer ere Life true, immortal, (N"ot this our shadowy Life,) will be thine own ; And thou shalt stand where winged Archangels worship, And trembling bow before the Great White Throne. A little longer still, and Heaven awaits thee, And fills thy sj)ii-it with a great delight ; Then our pale joys will seem a dream forgotten, Our Sun a darkness, and our Day a night. A little longer, and thy Heart, Beloved, Shall beat for ever with a Love divine ; And joy so pure, so mighty, so eternal, No creatm-e knows and lives will then be thine. A little longer yet — and angel voices Shall rmg in heavenly chant upon thine ear ; Angels and Saints await thee, and God needs thee. Beloved, can we bid thee linger here ! 9* GEIEF. An ancient enemy have I, And either he or I must die ; For he never leaveth me, Never gives my soul reUef, Never lets my sorrow cease, Never gives my spirit peace, — For mine enemy is Grief! Pale he is, and sad and stern ; And where'er he cometh nigh. Blue and dim the torches burn, Pale and shrunk the roses txim ; While my heart that he has pierced Many a time with fiery lance Beats and trembles at his glance : Clad in bui'ning steel is he, AU my strength he can defy ; For he never leaveth me — And one of us must die ! GEIEF. 203 I have said, " Let ancient sages Charm me from my thoughts of pain ! " So I read their deepest pages, And I strove to think — in vain ! Wisdom's cold cahn words I tried, But he was seated by my side : — Learning I have won in vain ; She cannot rid me of my j^ain. When at last soft sleep comes o'er me, A cold hand is on my heart ; Stern sad eyes are there before me, Not in dreams will he depart ; And when the same dreary vision From my weary brain has fled. Daylight brings the living phantom, He is seated by my bed. Bending o'er me all the while. With his cruel, bitter snule, Ever with me, ever nigh ; — And either he or I must die ! Then I said, long time ago, " I will flee to other climes. 204 GEIEF. I ^vill leave mine ancient foe ! " Though I wandered far and wide, — Still he followed by my side. And I fled where the blue waters Bathe the sunny isles of Greece ; Where Thessalian mountains rise Uj) against the purple skies ; Where a haunting memory liveth In each wood and cave and riU ; But no dream of gods could help me- He went with me stiU ! I have been where NUe's broad river Runs upon the burning sand ; Where the desert monster broodeth, Where the Eastern palm-trees stand ; I have been where pathless forests Sjjread a black eternal shade ; Where the lurking jjanther hiding Glares from every tangled glade ; But in vain I wandered Avide, He was always by my side ! GRIEF. 205 Then I lied where snows eternal Cold and dreary ever lie ; Where the rosy lightnings gleam, Flashing through the northern sky ; Where the red sun turns again Back upon his path of pain ; — But a shadowy form was with me — I had fled in vain ! I have thought, " If I can gaze Sternly on him he wiU fade, For I know that he is nothing But a dim ideal shade." As I gazed at him the more, He grew stronger than before ! Then I said, " Mine arm is strong, I will make him turn and flee : " I have struggled with him long — But that could never be ! Once I battled with him so That I thought I laid him low ; Then in trembling joy I fled. While again and still again 206 GRIEF. Miirmurmg to myself I said, " Mine old enemy is dead ! " And I stood beneath the stai's, When a chill came on my frame, And a fear I could not name, And a sense of quick "despair, And, lo ! — mine enemy was there ! Listen, for my soul is weary. Weary of its endless woe ; I have called on one to aid me Mightier even than my foe. Strength and hope fail day by day ; I shall cheat him of his prey ; Some day soon, I know not when, He will stab me through and through He has wounded me before. But my heart can bear no more ; Pray that hour may come to me, Only then shall I be free ; Death alone has strength to take me AVhere my foe can never be ; Death, and Death alone, has power To conquer mine old enemy ! THE TRIUMPH OF TIME. The tender delicate Flowers, I saw them fanned by a warm western wind, Fed by soft summer showers, Shielded by care, and yet, (oh Fate unkind ! ) Fade in a few short hours. The gentle and the gay, Rich in a glorious Future of bright deeds, Rejoicing ia the day, Ai-e met by Death, who sternly, sadly leads Them far away. And Hoj)es, perfumed and bright. So lately shining, wet with dew and tears, Tremblmg in morning light, I saw them change to dark and anxious fears Before the night ! 208 THE TRIUMPH OF TIME. I wejjt that all must die — " Yet Love," I cried, " doth live, and conquer death—" And Time passed by, And breathed on Love, and killed it with his breath Ere Death was nigh. More bitter far than all It was to know that Love can change and die — Hush ! for the ages call " The Love of God Uves through eternity. And conquers all ! " A PAETIKG. Without one bitter feeling let us part ; And for the years in which your love has shed A radiance like a glory roimd my head, I thank yoii, yes, I thank you from my heart A PARTIKG. 209 I thank you for the cherished hope of years, A starry future, dim and yet di\^ne, Winging its way from Heaven to be mine, Laden with joy, and ignorant of tears. I thank you, yes, I thank you even more That my heart learnt not without love to live, But gave and gave, and stUl had more to give. From an abundant and exhaustless store. [ thank you, and no grief is in these tears ; I thank you, not in bittex-ness but truth, For the fair vision that adorned my youth And glorified so many happy years. Yet how much more I thank you that you tore At last the veil that you had woven, away. That hid the thing I worshipped was of clay. And vain and false what I had knelt before. I thank you that you taught me the stern truth, (None other could have told and I believed,) That vam had been my life, and I deceived, And wasted all the purpose of my youth. 210 A PARTING. I thank you that your hand clashed down the shrme, Wherem my idol worship I had paid ; Else had I never known a soul was made To serve and worship only the DiAdne, I thank you that the heart I cast away On such as you, though broken, bruised and crushed, Now that its fiery throbbing is all hushed, Upon a worthier altar I can lay. I thank you for the lesson that such love Is a perverting of God's royal right, That it is made but for the Infinite, And all too great to live except above. I thank you for a terrible awaking, And if reproach seemed hidden in my pain. And sorrow seemed to cry on your disdain. Know that my blessing lay in your forsaking. Farewell for ever now : — in peace we part ; And should an idle vision of my tears Arise before your soul in after years — Remember that I thank you from my heart ! THE GOLDEN GATE. Dim shadows gather thickly round, and up the misty stair they climb, The cloudy stair that upward leads to where the closed portals shine, Round which the kneeling spuits Avait the opening of the Golden Gate. And some with eager longing go, still pressing forward, hand in hand, And some with weary step and sIoav, look back where their Beloved stand — Yet up the misty stair they cHmb, led onward by the Ano-el Time. o As unseen hands roll back the doors, the light that floods the very air 212 THE GOLDEN GATE. Is the dim shadow from witliin, of the great glory hidden there — And morn and eve, and soon and late, the shadows pass within the gate. As one by one they enter m, and the dim portals close once more, The halo seems to Imger round those kneeling closest to the door : The joy that lightened from that place shines still upon the watcher's face. The faint low echo that we hear of far-off music seems to fill The silent ah* with love and fear, and the world's clamours all grow still, Until the portals close again, and leave us toiling on in pain. Complain not that the way is long ; — what road is weary that leads there ? But let the Angel take thy hand, and lead thee up the misty stair. And then with beating heart await, the opening of the Golden Gate. PHANTOMS. Back, ye Phantoms of the Past ; In your dreary caves remain : What have I to do with memories Of a long-forgotten pain ? For my Present is all j)eaceful, And my Future nohly planned ; Long ago Time's mighty biUows Swept your footsteps from the sand. Back into your caves ; nor haunt me With your voices full of woe ; I have buried grief and sorrow In the depths of Long-ago. See the glorious clouds of morning Roll away, and clear and bright Shine the rays of cloudless dayhght, — Wherefore will ye moan of night ? 214 PHANTOMS. Never shall my heart be burthened With its ancient woe and fears ; I can drive them from my presence, I can check these foolish tears. Back, ye Pliantoms; leave, oh leave me To a new and happy lot ; Speak no more of things departed, Leave me, — ^for I know ye not. Can it be that 'mid my gladness I must ever hear ye wail, ■ Of the grief that wrung my spirit, And that made my cheek so pale ? Joy is mine ; but your sad voices Murmur ever in mine ear : Vain is aU the Future's promise. While the dreary Past is here. Vain, oh worse than vain, the Visions That my heart, my life would fill, If the Past's relentless phantoms Call upon me still ! THANKFULNESS. I THAKK Thee, oh my God, who made The Earth so bright ; So full of splendour and of joy, Beauty and light ; So many glorious things are here, Noble and right ! I Thauk Thee, too, that Thou hast made Joy to abomid ; So many gentle thoughts and deeds Circhng us round, That m the dax'kest spot on Earth Some love is found. I thank Thee more that all our joy Is touched with pain ; 216 THANKFULNESS. That shadows fall on brightest hours ; That thorns remam ; So that Earth's bliss may be our guide, And not our chain. For Thou who knowest, Lord, how soon Our weak heart clings. Hast given us joys, tender and true, Yet all with wings. So that we see, gleaming on high. Diviner things ! I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept The best in store ; We have enough, yet not too much To long for more : A yearning for a deeper peace, N"ot known before. I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls, Though amply blest, Can never find, although they seek, A perfect rest — Nor ever shall, imtil they lean On Jesus' breast ! HOME-SICKNESS. Where I am, the halls are gilded, Stored with pictures bright and rare ; Strains of deep melodious music Float upon the j)erfumed air : — Nothing stirs the dreary silence Save the melancholy sea, Near the poor and humble cottage, Where I fain would be ! Where I am, the sun is shining, And the purple windows glow. Till their rich armorial shadows Stain the marble floor below • — Faded Autumn leaves are trembling, On the withered jasmine tree. Creeping roimd the little casement, Where I fain would be ! 218 HOME-SICKNESS. Where I am, the days are passing O'er a pathway strewn with flowers ; Song and joy and starry pleasures Crown the happy smiling hours : — Slowly, heavily, and sadly. Time with weary wings must flee. Marked by pain, and toil, and sorrow. Where I fain would be ! Where I am, the great and noble, TeU me of renown and fame, And the red wine sparkles highest, To do honour to my name : — Far away a place is vacant, By a humble hearth for me. Dying embers dimly show it Where I fain would be ! Where I am, are glorious dreamings. Science, genius, art divine. And the great minds whom all honour Interchange their thoughts with mine A few simple hearts are waiting, Longing, wearying, for me. HOME-SICKNESS. 219 Far away where tears are falling, Where I fain would be ! Where I am, all think me happy. For so well I play my part, None can guess, who smile around me, . How far distant is my heart — Far away, in a poor cottage. Listening to the dreary sea, Where the treasures of my life are, Where I fain would be ! WISHES. All the fluttering wishes Caged within thy heart Beat their wings against it. Longing to depart, Till they shake their prison With their wounded ci*y : 220 WISHES. Open then thy heart to-day, And let the captives fly. Let them fii-st fly upwai'd Through the starry air, Till you almost lose them, For their home is there ; Then with outspread puiiona, Circling roimd and round, "Wing their way wherever Want and woe are found. Where the weary stitcher ToUs for daily bread ; Where the lonely watcher Watches by her dead ; Where with thin weak fingers, Toiling at the loom, Stand the little children. Blighted ere they bloom. Where by darkness blinded. Groping for the light, WISHES. 221 With distorted conscience Men do Avrong for right ; Where in the cold shadow, By smooth jDleasure thrown, Human hearts by hundreds Harden into stone. Where on dusty highways, With faint heart and slow, Cursing the glad sunlight. Hungry outcasts go ; Where all mirth is silenced. And the hearth is chUl, For one place is empty, And one voice is stUl, Some hearts will be Hghter While your captives roam For their tender singing, Then recal them home ; When the sunny hours Into night depart. Softly they will nestle In a quiet heart. THE PEACE OF GOD. We ask for Peace, oh Lord ! Thy children ask Thy Peace ; Not what the world calls rest, That toil and care should cease, That through bright sunny hours Cahn Life should fleet away, And tranquil night should fade In smiling day ; — It is not for such Peace that we would pray. We ask for Peace, oh Lord ! Yet not to stand secure, Gu't round with iron Pride, Contented to endure : Crushing the gentle strings, That human hearts should know. Untouched by others' joys Or others' woe ; — Thou, oh dear Lord, wilt never teach us so. THE PEACK OF GOD. 223 We ask Thy Peace, oh Lord ! Through storm, and fear, and strife, To Hght and guide us on, Through a long struggling life : WMle no success or gain ShaU cheer the desperate fight. Or nerve, what the world calls, Our wasted might : — Yet pressing through the darkness to the light. It is Thine own, oh Lord, Who toil whUe others sleep ; Who sow with lo^dng care What other hands shall reap : They lean on Thee entranced, Li calm and perfect rest : Give us that Peace, oh Lord, Divine and blest, Thou keepest for those hearts who love Thee best. LIFE m DEATH AND DEATH IN LIFE. I. If the dread day that calls thee hence, Through a red mist of fear should loom, (Closmg in deadliest night and gloom Long hours of aching dumb suspense,) And leave me to my lonely doom. I think, beloved, I could see In thy dear eyes the loving Hght Glaze into vacancy and night, And still say, " God is good to me, And all that He decrees is right. " That watching thy slow struggling breath, And answering each perj)lexfed sign, I stni could pray thy prayer and mine. And teU thee, dear, though this was death. That God was love, and love divine. LIFE IN DEATH. 225 Could hold thee in my arms, and lay Upon my heart thy weary head, And meet thy last smile ere it fled ; Then hear, as in a dream, one say, " Now all is over, — she is dead." Could smooth thy garments with fond care, And cross thy hands upon thy breast. And kiss thine eyeUds down to rest, And yet say no word of despair. But, through my sobbing, " It is best." Could stifle down the gnawing pain. And say, " We still divide our life, She has the rest, and I the strife. And mine the loss, and hers the gain : My ill with bUss for her is rife." Then turn, and the old duties take, — Alone now, — yet with earnest will Gathering sweet sacred traces still To help me on, and, for thy sake. My heart and life and soul to fill. 10* 226 LIFE IN DEATH. I think I could check vain weak tears, And toil, — although the world's great space Held nothing but one vacant place, And see the dark and weary years Lit only by a vanished grace. And sometimes, when the day was o'er, Call up the tender past again : Its painful joy, its hapjjy paui. And live it over yet once more, And say, " But few more yeai's remain." And then, when I had striven my best, And all around would softly say, " See how Time makes all grief decay," Would lie down thankfully to rest, And seek thee in eternal day. II. But if the day should ever rise — It could not and it cannot be — Yet, if the sun should ever see, Looking upon us from the skies, A day that took thy heart from me ; LIFE IN DEATH. 227 If loving thee still more and more, And still so willing to be blind, I should the bitter knowledge find, That Time had eaten out the core Of love, and left the empty rind ; If the poor lifeless words, at last, (The soul gone, that was once so sweet,) Should cease my eager heart to cheat, And crumble back into the past, And show the whole a vara deceit ; If I should see thee turn away, And know that prayer, and time, and pain. Could no more thy lost love regain, Than bid the hours of dying day Gleam in their mid-day noon again. If I should loose thy hand, and know That henceforth we must dwell apart, Since I have seen thy love depart. And only count the hours flow By the dull throbbing of my heart. 228 LIFE IN DEATH. If I should gaze and gaze in vain Into thine eyes so deep and clear, And read the truth of all my fear Half-mixed with pity for my pain, And sorrow for the vanished year. If not to grieve thee overmuch, I strove to counterfeit disdain, And weave me a new life again. Which thy life could not mar, or touch, And so smile down my bitter pain. The ghost of my dead Past would rise And mock me, and I could not dare Look to a future of despair. Or even to the eternal skies. For I should still be lonely there. All Truth, aU Honour, then would seem Vain clouds, which the fii-st wind blew by ; All Trust, a folly doomed to die ; All Life, a useless emj)ty dream ; All Love, — since thine had failed — a lie. LIFE IN DEATH. 229 But see, thy tender smile has cast My fear away : this thought of mine Is treason to my Love and thine ; For Love' is Life, and Death at last Crowns it eternal and divine ! KECOLLECTIONS. As strangers, you and I are here ; "We both as aliens stand, Where once, in years gone by, I dwelt No stranger in the land. Then while you gaze on park and stream. Let me remain apart, And Usten to the awakened sound Of voices in my heart ! Here, where upon the velvet lawn The cedar spreads its shade. 230 RECOLLECTIONS. And by the flower-beds all around, Bright roses bloom and fade ; Shrill merry childish laughter rings, And baby voices sweet, And by me, on the path, I hear The tread of Httle feet. Down the dark avenue of limes. Whose perfume loads the air. Whose boughs are rustlmg overhead, (For the west wind is there,) I hear the sound of earnest talk, Warnings and counsels wise. And the quick questioning that brought Such gentle, calm rei^lies. Still the light bridge hangs o'er the lake. Where broad-leaved lihes he, And the cool water shows asfain The cloud that moves on hiwh ; — And one voice speaks, in tones I thought The past for ever kept ; RECOLLECTIONS. 231 But now I know, deep in my heart Its echoes only slejjt ! I hear, within the shady porch Once more, the measured soimd Of the old ballads that were read, WhUe we sat listening round ; The starry passion-flower still Up the green trellice cHmbs ; The tendrUs wavuig seem to keep The cadence of the rhymes, I might have striven, and striven in vain. Such visions to recall. Well known and yet forgotten ; noAv I see, I hear them all ! The present pales before the past. Who comes with angel wings ; As ia a dream I stand, amidst Strange yet familiar things ! Enough, so let us go, mine eyes Are blinded by their tears ; 232 RECOLLECTIONS. A voice speaks to my soiil to-day Of long forgotten years. And yet the vision in my heart. In a few hours more, Wni fade into the silent past, Silently as before. ILLUSION. Where the golden com is bending, And the singing reapers pass, Where the chestnut woods are sending Leafy showers on the grass. The blue river onward flowing Mmgles ^ith its noisy strife, The murmur of the flowers growing, And the hum of insect life. ILLUSION. 233 I, from that rich plain was gazing Towards the snowy mountains high, Who their gleaming peaks were raising Up against the purple sky. And the glory of their shining Bathed in clouds of rosy light, Set my weary sj^irit pining For a home so pure and bright ! So I left the plain, and weary, Fainting, yet with hope sustained. Toiled through pathways long and dreary. Till the mountain top was gained. Lo ! the height that I had taken, As so shining from below. Was a desolate, forsaken Region of perpetual snow. I am faint, my feet are bleeding. All my feeble strength is worn, In the plain no soul is heeding, I am here alone, forlorn. 234 ILLUSION. Lights are shining, bells are tolling, In the busy vale below ; Near me night's black clouds are rolling, Gathering o'er a waste of snow. So I watch the river winding Through the misty fading plain, Bitter are the tear-droj^s bhnding. Bitter useless toil and pain — Bitterest of all the finding That my dream was false and vain ! A VISION. Gloomy and black are the cypress trees, Drearily waileth the chill night breeze. The long grass waveth, the tombs are white, And the black clouds flit o'er the chill moonhght. Silent is all save the dropping rain, A VISION. 235 When slowly there cometh a mourning tram ; The lone churchyard is dark and dim, And the mourners raise a funeral hymn : " Open, dark grave, and take her ; Though we have loved her so, Yet we must now forsake her. Love win no more awake her : (Oh, bitter woe !) Open thine arms and take her To rest below ! " Vain is our mournful weeping, Her gentle life is o'er ; Only the worm is creeping Where she will soon be sleeping. For evermore — Nor joy nor love is keei>ing For her in store ! " Gloomy and black are the cypress trees, And drearily wave in the chill night breeze. The dark clouds part and the heavens are blue. Where the trembhng stars are shining through, 236 A VISION. Slowly across the gleaming sky, A crowd of white angels are passing by. Like a fleet of swans they float along, Or the sUver notes of a dying song. Like a cloud of incense their pinions rise. Fading away up the purple skies. But hush ! for the silent glory is stirred, By a strain such as earth has never heard " Open, O Heaven ! we bear her, This gentle maiden mild, Eai'th's griefs we gladly spare her. From earthly joys we tear her. Still undefiled ; And to thine arms we bear her, Thme own, thy cliild. " Open, O Heaven ! no morrow Will see this joy o'ercast, No pam, no tears, no sorrow, Her gentle heart Tvdll borrow ; Sad life is past ; Shielded and safe from sorrow, At home at last." A VISION. 237 But the vision faded and all was still, On the purple valley and distant hill. No sound Avas there save the wailing breeze, The rain, and the rustling cypress trees. PICTURES m THE FIEE. What is it you ask me, darhng ? All my stories, child, you know : I have no strange dreams to tell you. Pictures I have none to show. Tell you glorious scenes of travel ? Nay, my child, that cannot be, I have seen no foreign countries. Marvels none on land or sea. Yet strange sights in truth I witness, And I gaze until I tire ; Wondrous pictures, changing ever. As I look into the fire. 238 PICTURES IN THE FIRE. There, last night, I saw a cavern, Black as pitch ; within it lay Coiled in many folds a dragon, Glaring as if turned at bay. And a knight in dismal ai*mour On a wingfed eagle came, To do battle with this dragon ; And his crest was all of flame. As I gazed the dragon faded, And, instead, sate Pluto crowned. By a lake of burning fire ; Spirits dark were crouching round. That was gone, and lo ! before me, A cathedral vast and grim ; I could almost hear the organ Roll along the arches dim. As I watched the wreathed pillars, A thick grove of palms arose. PICTURES IN THE FIRE. 239 And a group of swarthy Indians Stealing on some sleeping foes. Stay ; a cataract glancing brightly, Dashed and sparkled ; and beside Lay a broken marble monster, Mouth and eyes were staring wide. Then I saw a maiden wreathing Starry flowers in garlands sweet ; Did she see the fiery serpent That was wrapped about her feet ? That fell crashing all and vanished ; And I saw two armies close — I could almost hear the clarions, And the shouting of the foes. They were gone ; and lo ! bright angels. On a barren moimtain wild, Raised appealing arms to Heaven, Bearing up a little child. 240 PICTURES IN THE FIRE. And I gazed, and gazed, and slowly Gathered in my eyes sad tears, And the fiery pictures bore me Back through distant dreams of years. Once again I tasted sorrow, "With past joy was once more gay, Till the shade had gathered round me — And the fire had died away. THE SETTLEES. Two stranger youths in the Far West, Beneath the ancient forest trees. Pausing, amid their toU, to rest, Spake of their home beyond the seas ; Spake of the hearts that beat so warmly, Of the hearts they loved so weU, In their chilly northern coimtry. " "Would," they cried, " some voice could tell THE SETTLERS. 241 Where they are, our own beloved ones !" They looked up to the evening sky Half hidden by the giant branches, But heard no angel-voice reply. All silent was the quiet evening ; Silent were the ancient trees ; They only heard the murmuring song Of the summer breeze. That gently played among The acacia trees. And did no warning spirit answer, Amid the silence aU around ; " Before the lowly village altar She thou lovest may be found. Thou, who trustest still so blindly, Know she stands a smiling bride ! Forgetting thee, she turneth kmdly To the stranger at her side. Yes, this day thou art forgotten. Forgotten, too, thy last farewell. All the vows that she has spoken, And thy heart has kept so well. Dream no more of a starry future, 11 242 THE SETTLERS. In thy home beyond the seas !" But he only heard the gentle sigh Of the siunmer breeze, So softly passmg by The acacia trees. And vainly, too, the other, looking Smiling up through hopeful tears. Asked in his heart of hearts, "Where is she, She I loved these many years ?" He heard no echo calling faintly : " Lo, she lieth cold and pale. And her smile so calm and saintly Heeds not grieving sob or wail — Heeds not the lilies strewn upon her, Pure as she is, and as white, Or the solenm chanting voices, Or the taper's ghastly light." But silent still was the ancient forest. Silent were the gloomy trees. He only heard the wailing sound Of the summer breeze. That sadly played around The acacia trees ! HUSH! " I CAN scarcely hear," she murmured, " For my heart beats loud and fast, But surely in the far, far distance, I can hear a sound at last." " It is only the reapers singing, As they carry home their sheaves ; And the evening breeze has risen. And rustles the dying leaves." " Listen ! there are voices talkiuQ:." Calmly still she strove to sj^eak, Yet her voice grew faint and trembling, And the red flushed in her cheek. " It is only the children playing Below, now their work is done. And they laugh that their eyes are dazzled By the rays of the setting sun." 244 hush! Fainter grew her voice, and weaker, As with anxious eyes she cried, " Down the avenue of chestnuts, ■I can hear a horseman ride." " It was only the deer that were feeding In a herd on the clover grass, They were startled, and fled to the thicket As they saw the reapers pass." Now the night arose in silence, Birds lay in their leafy nest, And the deer couched in the forest. And the children were at rest ; There was only a sound of weeping From watchers around a bed, But Rest to the weary spirit, Peace to the quiet Dead ! HOUES. When the bright stars came out last night, And the dew lay on the flowers, I had a vision of delight — A dream of by-gone hours. Those hours that came and fled so fast Of pleasure or of pain. As phantoms rose from out the past Before my eyes again. With beating heart did I behold A train of joyous hours, Lit with the radiant light of old, And, smiling, crowned with flowers. And some were hours of childish sorrow, A mimicry of pain, 246 H O U B s . That through theu- tears looked for a morrow They kuew must smile agaba. Those hours of hope that longed for life, And wished their part begun, And ere the summons to the strife, Dreamed that the field was won. I knew the echo of their voice. The starry crowns they wore ; The vision made my soul rejoice With the old thrill of yore. I knew the perfume of their flowers ; The glorious shming rays Aroimd these happy smiling hours Were lit in by-gone days. O stay, I cried — ^bright visions, stay, And leave me not forlorn ! But, smiUng still, they passed away, Like shadows of the mom. HOURS. 247 One spirit still remained, and cried, " Thy soul shaU ne'er forget !" He standeth ever by my side — The phantom called Regret ! But still the spirits rose, and there Were weary hours of pain, And anxious hours of fear and care Boimd by an iron chain. Dim shadows came of lonely hours, That shunned the hght of day, And in the opening smile of flowers Saw only quick decay. Calm hours that sought the starry skies For heavenly lore were there ; With folded hands and earnest eyes, I knew the hours of prayer. Stern hours that darkened the sun's light. Heralds of coming woes. With trailing wings, before my sight From the dim past arose. 248 HO UBS. As each dark vision passed and spoke I prayed it to depart : At each some buried sorrow woke And stii-red within my heart. Until these hours of pain and care Lifted their tearful eyes, Spread their dark pinions in the air And passed into the skies. THE TWO INTEEPEETEES. " The clouds are fleeting by, father, Look in the shining west, The great white clouds sail onward Upon the sky's blue breast. Look at a snowy eagle. His wings are tinged wdth red. And a giant dolphin foUows him, With a crown upon his head I" THE TWO INTERPRETERS. 249 The father spake no word, but watched The drifting clouds roll by ; He traced a misty vision too Upon the shining sky : A shadowy form, with well-known grace Of weary love and care, Above the smiling chUd she held. Shook down her floating hair. " The clouds are changuig now, father, MountaLus rise high and higher ! And see where red and purple ships Sail in a sea of fire ! " The father pressed the little hand More closely in his own, And watched a cloud-dream in the sky That he could see alone : Bright angels carrying far away A white form, cold and dead, Two held the feet, and two bore n^ The flower-crowned di'ooping head. " See, father, see ! a glory floods The sky, and all is bright, 11* 250 THE TWO INTEBPBETEKS. And clouds of every hue and shade Bum in the golden light. And now, above an azure lake Rise battlements and towers, Where knights and ladies climb the heights, All bearing purple flowers. " The father looked, and, with a pang Of love and strange alarm, Drew close the Uttle eager child Within his sheltering arm ; From out the clouds the mother looks With wistful glance below. She seems to seek the treasure left On earth so long ago ; She holds her arms out to her child, His cradle-song she sings : The last rays of the sunset gleam • Upon her outspread wings. Calm twUight veils the summer sky. The slaining clouds are gone ; In vain the merry laughing child Still gaily prattles on ; THE TWO INTERPRETERS. 251 In vain the bright stars, one by one, On the blue silence start, A dreary shadow rests to-night Upon the father's heart. COMFOET. Hast thou o'er the clear heaven of thy soul Seen tempests roU ? Hast thou watched all the hopes thou wouldst have won Fade, one by one ? Wait till the clouds are past, then raise thine eyes To bluer skies ! Hast thou gone sadly through a dreary night. And found no light, No guide, no star, to cheer thee through the plain — No friend, save pain ? 252 COMFOKT. Wait, and thy soul shall see, when most forlorn, Rise a new mom. Hast thou beneath another's stern control Bent thy sad soul, And wasted sacred hopes and precious tears ? Yet cahn thy fears, For thou canst gain, even from the bitterest part. A stronger heart. Has Fate o'erwhelmed thee with some sudden blow? Let thy tears flow ; But know when storms are past, the heavens appear More pure, more clear ; And hope, when farthest from their shining rays, For brighter days. Hast thou found life a cheat, and worn in vain Its iron chain ? Has thy soul bent beneath earth's heavy bond ? Look thou beyond ; If life is bitter — there for ever shine Hopes more divine ! COMPORT. 253 Art thou alone, and does thy soul complain It lives iu vain ? Not vainly does he live who can endure. O be thou sure, That he who hopes and suffers here can earn A sure return. Hast thou found nought within thy troubled life Save inward strife ? Hast thou found all she promised thee, Deceit, And Hope a cheat ? Endure, and there shall dawn within thy breast Eternal rest ! HOME AT LAST. Child, do not fear ; We shall reach our home to-night, For the sky is clear, And the waters bright ; And the breezes have scarcely strength To unfold that Httle cloud, That like a shroud Spreads out its fleecy length ; Then have no fear, As we cleave our silver way Throuerh the waters clear. Fear not, my child ! Though the waves are white and high, And the storm blows wild Through the gloomy sky ; On the edge of the western sea, See that Une of golden light. HOME AT LAST. 255 Is the haven bright Where home is awaiting thee. Where, this peril past, We shall rest from our stormy voyage In peace at last. Be not afraid ; But give me thy hand, and see How the waves have made A cradle for thee. Night is come, dear, and we shall rest ; So turn from the angry skies, And close thine eyes. And lay thy head on my breast : Child, do not weep ; In the cahn, cold, pui-j^le depths There we shall sleep. UNEXPKESSED. Dwells within the soul of every Artist More than all his effort can express ; And he knows the best remains unuttered ; Sighing at what toe caU his success. Vainly he may strive ; he dare not tell us AU the sacred mysteries of the skies : Vainly he may strive ; the deepest beauty Cannot be unveiled to mortal eyes. And the more devoutly that he listens, And the holier message that is sent, StiU the more his soul must struggle vainly, Bowed beneath a noble discontent. UNEXPRESSED. 257 No great Thinker ever lived, and taught you All the wonder that his soul received ; No true Painter ever set on canvas All the glorious vision he conceived. No Musician ever held your spirit Charmed and bound in his melodious chains, But be sure he heard, and strove to render, Feeble echoes of celestial strains. No real Poet ever wove in numbers All his dream ; but the diviner part, Hidden from all the world, spake to him only In the voiceless silence of his heart. So with Love : for Love and Art united Are twin mysteries ; different yet the same Poor indeed would be the love of any Who could find its fuU and perfect name. Love may strive, but vain is the endeavom* All its boundless riches to unfold ; 258 UNEXPRESSED. Still its tenderest, truest secret lingers Ever in its deepest depths untold. Tilings of Time have voices : speak and perish. Art and Iipve speak — but their words must be Like sighiugs of illimitable forests, And waves of an unfathomable sea. BECAUSE. . It is not because your heart is mine — mine onlj^— INIine alone ; It is not because you chose me, weak and lonely, For your own ; Not because the earth is fairer, and the skies Spread above you Are more radiant for the shining of your eyes — That I love you ! BECAUSE. 259 It is not because the world's perplexed meaning Grows more clear ; And the Parapets of Heaven, with angels leaning, Seem more near ; And Nature sings of praise with all her voices Since yours spoke, Since within my silent heart, that now rejoices, Love awoke ! Nay, not even because your hand holds heart and life; At your will Soothing, hushing all its discord, making strife Calm and still ; Teaching Trust to fold her wings, nor ever roam From her nest ; Teaching Love that her securest, safest home Must be Rest. But because this himian Love, though true and sweet — Yours and mine — 260 BECAUSE. Has been sent by love more tender, more complete, More divine ; That it leads our hearts to rest at last in Heaven, Far above you ; Do I take you as a gift that God has given — — ^And I love you ! EEST AT EYENING. When the weariness of Life is ended, And the task of om' long day is done. And the props, on which our hearts depended. All have failed, or broken, one by one ; Evening and our Sorrow's shadow blended. Telling us that peace is now begun. How far back will seem the sun's first dawning. And those early mists so cold and grey ! Half forgotten even the toil of morning. And the heat and burthen of the day. KEST AT EVENING. 261 Flowers that we were tending, and weeds scorning, All alike, withered and cast away. Vain will seem the impatient heart, that waited Toils that gathered but too quickly round ; And the childish joy, so soon elated At the path we thought none else had found ; And the foolish ardour, soon abated By the storm which cast us to the ground. Vain those pauses on the road, each seeming As our final home and restrng-j)lace ; And the leaving them, while tears were streaming Of eternal sorrow do^"m our face ; And the hands we held, fond folly dreaming That no future could their touch efface. AU will then be faded : — night will borrow Stars of light to crown our perfect rest ; And the dim vague memory of faint sorrow Just remain to show us all was best, Then melt into a divine to-morroAv^ : — Oh, how poor a day to be so blest ! A KETEOSPECT. Fkom this fair point of present bliss, Where we together stand, Let me look back once more, and trace That long and desert land. Wherein till now was cast my lot, and I could live, and thou wert not. Strange that my heart could beat, and know Alternate joy and pain, That suns could roll from east to west, And clouds could pass in rain. And the slow hours without thee fleet, nor stay their noiseless silver feet. What had I then ? a Hope, that grew Each hour more bright and deai-, The flush upon the eastern skies A EETEOSPECT. 263 That showed the sun was neai- : — Now night has faded far away, my sun has risen, and it is day. A dim Ideal of tender grace In my soul reigned supreme ; Too noble and too sweet I thought To Hve, save in a dream — Within thy heart to-day it lies, and looks on me fi'om thy dear eyes. Some gentle spirit, — Love I thought, — Built many a shrine of pain ; Though each false Idol fell to dust The worship was not vain. But a faint radiant shadow cast back from our Love upon the Past. And Grief, too, held her vigil there ; With unrelenting sway Breaking my cloudy visions down. Throwing my flowers away : — I owe to her fond care alone that I may now be all thine own. 264 A RETROSPECT. Fair Joy was there — her fluttering wings At times she strove to raise ; Watching through long and patient nights, Listening long eager days : I know now that her heart and mine were waiting. Love, to welcome thine. Thus I can read thy name throughout, And, now her task is done. Can see that even that faded Past "Was thine, beloved one. And so rejoice my Life may be all consecrated, dear, to thee. THE END. 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