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diff --git a/26445-h/26445-h.htm b/26445-h/26445-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..855bc49 --- /dev/null +++ b/26445-h/26445-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1067 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Songs from the Southland, by Sarah Frances Price. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Songs from the Southland, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Songs from the Southland + +Author: Various + +Editor: Sarah Frances Price + +Release Date: August 28, 2008 [EBook #26445] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONGS FROM THE SOUTHLAND *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia, Diane Monico, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Kentuckiana Digital Library) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<p class="figcenter" style="width: 456px;"> +<img src="images/image001.jpg" width="456" height="600" alt="Very Truly Yours, +Paul H. Hayne." title="Very Truly Yours, +Paul H. Hayne." /> +<span class="caption">Very Truly Yours,<br /> +Paul H. Hayne.</span> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /> + + +<h1> +SONGS<br /> +FROM THE SOUTHLAND<br /> +<br /></h1> + +<h3>SELECTED BY</h3> +<h2>S. F. PRICE<br /> +<br /><br /></h2> + +<p class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image002.jpg" width="400" height="135" alt="" title="" /> +<br /> +<br /><br /></p> + +<h4>BOSTON</h4> +<h3>D. LOTHROP COMPANY</h3> +<h6>WASHINGTON STREET OPPOSITE BROMFIEL</h6> + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /> + + + + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap"><small>Copyright, 1890,<br /> +by<br /> +D. Lothrop Company.</small></span><br /><br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<h2>Contents</h2> +<p class="center"> +<a href="#THE_CLOSING_YEAR">THE CLOSING YEAR.</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#CHRISTMAS_1864">CHRISTMAS. [1864.]</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#LA_BELLE_JUIVE">LA BELLE JUIVE.</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#TO_HELEN">TO HELEN.</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#A_CHRISTMAS_CHANT">A CHRISTMAS CHANT.</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#THE_VOICE_IN_THE_PINES">THE VOICE IN THE PINES.</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#ASPECTS_OF_THE_PINES">ASPECTS OF THE PINES.</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#IN_HARBOR">IN HARBOR.</a><br /><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> +<h1>SONGS<br /> +FROM THE SOUTH-LAND.</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CLOSING_YEAR" id="THE_CLOSING_YEAR"></a>THE CLOSING YEAR.</h2> + +<h3>GEORGE D. PRENTICE.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis midnight's holy hour, and silence now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is brooding, like a gentle spirit o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The still and pulseless world. Hark! on the winds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bell's deep tones are swelling; 'tis the knell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the departed year. No funeral train<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is sweeping past; yet, on the stream and wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With melancholy light, the moonbeams rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a pale, spotless shroud; the air is stirred,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As by a mourner's sigh; and, on yon cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That floats so still and placidly through heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spirits of the Seasons seem to stand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young Spring, bright Summer, Autumn's solemn form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Winter with its aged locks—and breathe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In mournful cadences, that come abroad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the far windharps wild, touching wail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A melancholy dirge o'er the dead year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone from the earth forever.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">'Tis a time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For memory and for tears. Within the deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still chambers of the heart, a spectre dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose tones are like the wizard voice of time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heard from the tomb of ages, points its cold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And solemn finger to the beautiful<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And holy visions, that have passed away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left no shadow of their loveliness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the dead waste of life. The spectre lifts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The coffin-lid of Hope and Joy and Love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bending mournfully above the pale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet forms that slumber there, scatters dead flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er what has passed to nothingness.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">The year<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has gone, and with it many a glorious throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of happy dreams. Its mark is on each brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its shadow in each heart. In its swift course,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It waved its sceptre o'er the beautiful;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they are not. It laid its pallid hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the strong man: and the haughty form<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is fallen, and the flashing eye is dim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It trod the hall of revelry, where thronged<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bright and joyous; and the tearful wail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of stricken ones is heard, where erst the song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reckless shout resounded. It passed o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The battle plain, where sword, and spear and shield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flashed in the light of midday; and the strength<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of serried hosts is shivered, and the grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green from the soil of carnage, waves above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crushed and mouldering skeleton. It came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And faded like a wreath of mist at eve;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, ere it melted in the viewless air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It heralded its millions to their home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the dim land of dreams.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Remorseless time!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fierce spirit of the glass and scythe! What power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can stay him in his silent course, or melt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His iron heart to pity! On, still on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He presses and forever. The proud bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Condor of the Andes, that can soar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through heaven's unfathomable depths, or brave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fury of the northing hurricane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bath its plumage in the thunder's home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Furls his broad wing at nightfall, and sinks down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rest upon his mountain crag; but Time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knows not the weight of sleep or weariness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Night's deep darkness has no chain to bind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His rushing pinion.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Revolutions sweep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er earth, like troubled visions o'er the breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of dreaming sorrow; cities rise and sink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like bubbles on the water; fiery isles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spring blazing from the ocean, and go back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To their mysterious caverns; mountains rear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To heaven their bold and blackened cliffs, and bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their tall heads to the plain; and empires rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gathering the strength of hoary centuries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rush down, like the Alpine avalanche,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Startling the nations; and the very stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yon bright and glorious blazonry of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glitter awhile in their eternal depths,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And like the Pleiad, loveliest of their train,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shoot from their glorious spheres, and pass away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To darkle in the trackless void; yet Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time, the tomb-builder, holds his fierce career,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark, stern, all pitiless, and pauses not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amid the mighty wrecks that strew his path,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sit and muse, like other conquerors,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the fearful ruin he hath wrought.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHRISTMAS_1864" id="CHRISTMAS_1864"></a>CHRISTMAS. [1864.]</h2> + +<h3>HENRY TIMROD.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">How grace this hallowed day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall happy bells, from yonder ancient spire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Send their glad greetings to each Christmas fire<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round which the children play?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><b>....</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">How shall we grace the day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! Let the thought that on this holy morn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Prince of Peace-the Prince of Peace was born,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Employ us, while we pray!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Pray for the peace which long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath left this tortured land, and haply now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holds its white court on some far mountain's brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There hardly safe from wrong!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Let every sacred fane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call its sad votaries to the shrine of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with the cloister and the tented sod,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Join in one solemn strain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">He, who, till time shall cease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will watch that earth, where once, not all in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He died to give us peace, may not disdain<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A prayer whose theme is—peace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Perhaps ere yet the Spring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath died into the Summer, over all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The land, the Peace of His vast love shall fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like some protecting wing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Oh, ponder what it means!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, turn the rapturous thought in every way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, give the vision and the fancy play,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And shape the coming scenes!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Peace in the quiet dales,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made rankly fertile by the blood of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace in the woodland, and the lonely glen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Peace in the peopled vales!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Peace in the crowded town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace in the thousand fields of waving grain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace in the highway and the flowery lane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Peace on the wind-swept down!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Peace on the farthest seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace in our sheltered bays and ample streams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace whereso'er our starry garland gleams;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And peace in every breeze!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Peace on the whirring marts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace where the scholar thinks—the hunter roams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace, God of Peace! Peace, peace, in all our homes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And peace in all our hearts!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + +<p class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image013.jpg" width="600" height="493" alt=""Peace in the quiet dales +Made rankly fertile by the blood of men."" title=""Peace in the quiet dales +Made rankly fertile by the blood of men."" /> +<span class="caption">"Peace in the quiet dales<br /> +Made rankly fertile by the blood of men."</span> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="LA_BELLE_JUIVE" id="LA_BELLE_JUIVE"></a>LA BELLE JUIVE.</h2> + +<h3>HENRY TIMROD.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is it because your sable hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is folded over brows that wear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At times a too imperial air;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or is it that the thoughts which rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In those dark orbs do seek disguise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the lids of Eastern eyes;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That choose whatever pose or place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May chance to please, in you I trace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The noblest woman of your race?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The crowd is sauntering at its ease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And humming like a hive of bees—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You take your seat and touch the keys:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I do not hear the giddy throng;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea avenges Israel's wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the mind floats Miriam's song!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You join me with a stately grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Music to Poesy gives place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some grand emotion lights your face:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At once I stand by Mizpeh's walls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With smiles the martyred daughter falls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And desolate are Mizpeh's halls!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Intrusive babblers come between;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With calm, pale brow and lofty mein,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You thread the circle like a queen!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then sweeps the royal Esther by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The deep devotion in her eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is looking "If I die, I die!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You stroll the gardener's flowery walks;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The plants to me are grainless stalks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Ruth to old Naomi talks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Adopted child of Judah's creed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like Judah's daughters, true at need,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see you mid the alien seed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I watch afar the gleaner sweet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I watch like Boaz in the wheat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And find you lying at my feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My feet! Oh! if the spell that lures,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart through all these dreams endures,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How soon shall I be stretched at yours!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="TO_HELEN" id="TO_HELEN"></a>TO HELEN.</h2> + +<h3>EDGAR ALLAN POE.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Helen, thy beauty is to me<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like those Nicean barks of yore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The weary, way-worn wanderer bore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To his own native shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On desperate seas long wont to roam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Naiad airs have brought me home<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the glory that was Greece<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the grandeur that was Rome.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How statue-like I see thee stand!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The agate lamp within thy hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! Psyche, from the regions which<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are Holy Land!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="A_CHRISTMAS_CHANT" id="A_CHRISTMAS_CHANT"></a>A CHRISTMAS CHANT.</h2> + +<h3>FATHER RYAN.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Four thousand years earth waited,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Four thousand years men prayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Four thousand years the nations sighed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That their King so long delayed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The prophets told His coming,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The saintly for Him sighed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the star of the Babe of Bethlehem<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shone o'er them when they died.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Their faces toward the future,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They longed to hail the light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in the after centuries<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Would rise on Christmas night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But still the Saviour tarried,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Within His father's home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the nations wept and wondered why<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The promise had not come.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At last earth's hope was granted,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And God was a child of earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a thousand angels chanted<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The lowly midnight birth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! Bethlehem was grander<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That hour than paradise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the light of earth that night eclipsed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The splendour of the skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then let us sing the anthem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The angels once did sing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until the music of love and praise<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er whole wide world will ring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Glory in excelsis!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sound the thrilling song;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In excelsis Deo!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Roll the hymn along.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p class="figcenter" style="width: 390px;"> +<img src="images/image021.jpg" width="390" height="580" alt="Then let us sing the anthem +The angels once did sing." title="Then let us sing the anthem +The angels once did sing." /> +<span class="caption">Then let us sing the anthem<br /> +The angels once did sing.</span> +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Glory in excelsis!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Let the heavens ring;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In excelsis Deo!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Welcome, new-born King.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gloria in excelsis!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Over the sea and land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In excelsis Deo!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Chant the anthem grand.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gloria in excelsis!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Let us all rejoice!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In excelsis Deo!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Lift each heart and voice.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gloria in excelsis!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Swell the hymn on high;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In excelsis Deo!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sound it to the sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gloria in excelsis!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sing it sinful earth.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In excelsis Deo!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For the Saviour's birth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus joyful and victoriously,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glad and ever so gloriously,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High as the heavens, wide as the earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swelleth the hymn of the Saviour's birth.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_VOICE_IN_THE_PINES" id="THE_VOICE_IN_THE_PINES"></a>THE VOICE IN THE PINES.</h2> + +<h3>PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The morn is softly beautiful and still,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its light, fair clouds in pencilled gold and gray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pause motionless above the pine-grown hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the pines, tranced as by a wizard's will,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Uprise as mute and motionless as they!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea! mute and moveless; not one flickering spray<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flashed into sunlight, nor a gaunt bough stirred;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, if wooed hence beneath those pines to stray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We catch a faint, thin murmur far away,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A bodiless voice, by grosser ears unheard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What voice is this? What low and solemn tone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which, though all wings of all the winds seemed furled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor even the zephyr's fairy flute is blown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes thus forever its mysterious moan<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From out the whispering pine-tops' shadowy world?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! can it be the antique tales are true?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Doth some lone Dryad haunt the breezeless air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fronting yon bright immitigable blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wildly breathing all her wild soul through<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That strange unearthly music of despair?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or can it be that ages since, storm-tossed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And driven far inland from the roaring lea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some baffled ocean-spirit, worn and lost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, through dry summer's dearth and winter's frost,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yearns for the sharp, sweet kisses of the sea?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whate'er the spell, I harken and am dumb,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dream-touched, and musing in the tranquil morn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All woodland sounds—the pheasant's gusty drum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mock-bird's fugue, the droning insect's hum—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scarce heard for that strange, sorrowful voice forlorn!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beneath the drowsèd sense, from deep to deep<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of spiritual life its mournful minor flows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Streamlike, with pensive tide, whose currents keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low murmuring 'twixt the bounds of grief and sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet locked for aye for sleep's divine repose.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="ASPECTS_OF_THE_PINES" id="ASPECTS_OF_THE_PINES"></a>ASPECTS OF THE PINES.</h2> + +<h3>PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tall, sombre, grim, against the morning sky<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They rise, scarce touched by melancholy airs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which stir the fadeless foliage dreamfully,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As if from realms of mystical despairs.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tall, sombre, grim, they stand with dusky gleams<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Brightening to gold within the woodland's core,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the gracious noontide's tranquil beams—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But the weird winds of morning sigh no more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A stillness, strange, divine, ineffable,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Broods round and o'er them in the wind's surcease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on each tinted copse and shimmering dell<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rests the mute rapture of deep-hearted peace.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Last, sunset comes—the solemn joy and might<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Borne from the West when cloudless day declines—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low, flutelike breezes sweep the waves of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And lifting dark green tresses of the pines,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till every lock is luminous—gently float,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fraught with hale odors up the heavens afar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To faint when twilight on her virginal throat<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wears for a gem the tremulous vesper star.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/image029.jpg" width="416" height="580" alt=""Tall, sombre, grim, they stand with dusky gleam +Brightening to gold within the woodland's core."" title=""Tall, sombre, grim, they stand with dusky gleam +Brightening to gold within the woodland's core."" /> +<span class="caption">"Tall, sombre, grim, they stand with dusky gleam<br /> +Brightening to gold within the woodland's core."</span> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="IN_HARBOR" id="IN_HARBOR"></a>IN HARBOR.</h2> + +<h3>PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I think it is over, over,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I think it is over at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Voices of foeman and lover,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sweet and the bitter have passed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life, like a tempest of ocean<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hath outblown its ultimate blast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's but a faint sobbing seaward<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the calm of the tide deepens leeward,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And behold! like the welcoming quiver<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of heart-pulses throbbed thro' the river,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Those lights in the harbor at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The heavenly harbor at last!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I feel it is over! over!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the winds and the waters surcease;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! few were the days of the rover<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That smiled in the beauty of peace!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And distant and dim was the omen<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That hinted redress or release.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the ravage of life, and its riot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What marvel I yearn for the quiet<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which bides in the harbor at last?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the lights with their welcoming quiver<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That through the sanctified river<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which girdles the harbor at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This heavenly harbor at last?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I <i>know</i> it is over, over,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I know it is over at last!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down sail! the sheathed anchor uncover,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the stress of the voyage has passed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life, like a tempest of ocean<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hath outbreathed its ultimate blast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's but a faint sobbing seaward,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the calm of the tide deepens leeward;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And behold! like the welcoming quiver<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of heart-pulses throbbed thro' the river,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Those lights in the harbor at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The heavenly harbor at last!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style='width: 95%;' /> + +<h3>Transcriber's Notes</h3> + +<p>Spelling, hyphenation, and punctuation inconsistencies have been +retained from the original book.</p> + +<p>The Contents listing has been added.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_10">10</a>: This is a shortened version of Henry Timrod's poem, and the +four dots represent lines missing from the full version.</p> + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Songs from the Southland, by Various + +*** END OF THIS 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