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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Borth Lyrics, by Edward Thring, Illustrated
+by C. Rossiter
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+other parts of the world 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.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
+
+
+
+
+Title: Borth Lyrics
+
+
+Author: Edward Thring
+
+
+
+Release Date: March 10, 2015  [eBook #48457]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BORTH LYRICS***
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1881 John Hawthorn edition by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org
+
+                          [Picture: Book cover]
+
+                     [Picture: Borth from the North]
+
+
+
+
+
+                               BORTH LYRICS
+
+
+                                    BY
+                           EDWARD THRING, M.A.
+
+                     HEAD MASTER OF UPPINGHAM SCHOOL
+                 LATE FELLOW OF KING’S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE
+
+                        [Picture: Postern in Quad]
+
+                    WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY C. ROSSITER
+                      _ENGRAVED BY DALZIEL BROTHERS_
+
+                                UPPINGHAM
+                              JOHN HAWTHORN
+                                   1881
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+THOSE who took part in that strange camping out of the School in 1876 and
+1877 will be glad to be reminded of their experiences now they are over.
+And perhaps the School at Uppingham, in years to come, may like to have
+some hint, however imperfect, of that medley of ruin and safety, fear and
+fun, which passed from risk and danger, which seemed almost impossible to
+be faced, to a happy ending.
+
+THE SCHOOL-HOUSE,
+   UPPINGHAM,
+      _August_, 1880.
+
+
+
+
+Dedication.
+
+
+                                    TO
+                  MR. T. H. BIRLEY AND MR. W. T. JACOB,
+  THE TWO SCHOOL TRUSTEES WITHOUT WHOSE HELP THE SCHOOL WOULD HAVE BEEN
+                                  LOST;
+
+                                    TO
+                         SIR PRYSE PRYSE, BART.,
+  AND THE KINDLY WELSH PEOPLE, WHO MADE SAFETY POSSIBLE AND SUCCESSFUL;
+
+                                    TO
+                               THE PARENTS,
+WHO TRUSTED THE SCHOOL, AND SENT IN FULL NUMBERS ON THE EVENTFUL NIGHT OF
+                              APRIL 4, 1876;
+
+                                    TO
+                         ALL FAITHFUL COLLEAGUES,
+      WHO DID TRUE WORK THROUGH THOSE DANGEROUS AND ANXIOUS MONTHS,
+
+             THIS MEMORIAL OF A COMMON CAUSE IS DEDICATED BY
+
+                                                               THE AUTHOR.
+
+
+
+
+List of Illustrations.
+
+BORTH FROM THE NORTH                             _Frontispiece_
+POSTERN IN QUAD                                         _Title_
+PORTION OF SCHOOL-HOUSE, GARDEN FRONT          _to face page_ 9
+SCHOOL-HOUSE QUAD                                            10
+BORTH FROM THE SOUTH                                         12
+THE LERY ABOVE TAL-Y-BONT                                    19
+THE BEACH BY MOEL YNYS                                       21
+THE MARSH BEHIND BORTH                                       24
+CHAPEL AND SCHOOL-HOUSE FROM MIDDLE GROUND                   30
+
+
+
+
+I.
+THE PROLOGUE.
+
+
+      O SWALLOW, with resistless wing, that hold’st the air in fee,
+      O swallow, with thy joyous sweep o’er earth and sunlit sea,
+   O swallow, who, if night were thine, would’st wheel amongst the stars,
+               Why linger round the eaves?
+      Unhappy! free of all the world hast knit thy soul to clay?
+      And glued thy heart up on the wall, thou swiftest child of day?
+   Claim, glorious wing, thy heritage; break, break thy prison bars,
+               Nor linger round the eaves.
+
+      Sweep, glorious wings, adown the wind; fly, swallow, to the west;
+      Before thee, life and liberty; behind, a ruined nest.
+   Blow, freshening breeze, sweep, rapid wing, for all the winds are
+   thine,
+               The nest is only clay.
+      The rapid wings were stretched in flight, the swallow sped away,
+      And left its nest beneath the eaves, the much-loved bit of clay,
+   Turned with the sun, to go where’er the happy sun might shine,
+               And passed into the day.
+
+             [Picture: Portion of School-house, Garden Front]
+
+
+
+
+II.
+THE SUMMONS.
+
+
+   A THOUSAND year is nought to prayer,
+      One day, so GOD it will:
+   So the chapel fair, in GOD’S clear air,
+      Looks calmly from its hill;
+
+   And true and bold the schoolhouse old
+      Before it sentinel,
+   With close at hand a trusty band
+      Of comrades guards it well.
+
+   Each morn they meet, the young, young feet,
+      They lightly come and go,
+   A changeful stream, that still doth seem
+      The same, and still doth flow.
+
+   The stream shall run while shines the sun,
+      And still the buttressed stone
+   Shall hear the beat of young, young feet,
+      And count them all its own.
+
+   The fair sun shone, but ghastly and wan
+      There came a spectral dream;
+   The stone stood fast, but a dim fear passed
+      Through buttress, and roof, and beam:
+
+   With sad, sad heart life did depart,
+      A ghostly silence fell;
+   With sad, sad heart they turned to depart,
+      And—farewell, home, farewell.
+
+                        [Picture: School-House Quad]
+
+
+
+
+III.
+THOUGHTS.
+
+
+   DARKEST clouds drop tender rain,
+   Every leaf and blade is fain
+   Its own jewel to obtain
+   From the casket of its pain.
+
+   And the thunder, black as night,
+   Down descends in orbs of white,
+   For the sun to fill with light,
+   Tiny chambers of his might.
+
+   Precious beads of hope are pearled
+   On each sorrow through the world,
+   Softest dews of peace in showers
+   Lie beneath the clouded hours.
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+THE JOURNEY.
+
+
+   THE ice froze cold, as cold as death,
+      Yet runs the stream below;
+   The very spring breathes bitter breath,
+      But still the flowerets blow.
+   Nor shall it perish from the land,
+      The living seed they bore,
+   As forth they fared, that pilgrim band,
+      As pilgrims went of yore.
+
+   Lead, river, down the mountain glen,
+      Glide ’mid the sunny slopes;
+   Now lose thyself, now come again,
+      E’en like a pilgrim’s hopes.
+   And careless rivulets with their peace
+      Smiled on the passers-by,
+   From many a valley, where the trees
+      See but their own dear sky.
+
+   So swept they on a great bright plain,
+      A charmèd breadth out-laid,
+   Where mountains rounded to the main
+      A charmèd circle made;
+   And northward couched a huge hill dream,
+      Which ofttimes, as it lay.
+   To heave and pant in sleep did seem,
+      Beneath the sultry day.
+
+   And leaning up against the hill,
+      Whose headland, purple-black,
+   The southern waters, as they fill,
+      Kiss daily, and fall back,
+   A simple hamlet, nowise planned,
+      Puts out a long arm white,
+   Where level sea and level sand
+      Scarce know each other’s right.
+
+   The mountains rule the east, but all
+      The west, the sea, the sea;
+   Save when the sun at evenfall
+      Disputes her sovereignty.
+   A kindly people held the land,
+      A kindly race and free;
+   So rest they found, that pilgrim band,
+      At Borth beside the sea.
+
+                     [Picture: Borth from the South]
+
+
+
+
+V.
+THE SEA.—SAFETY.
+
+
+   BRIGHT sea, in thy waters rolled
+   Dost eternity enfold,
+   Endless being, uncontrolled,
+   Freedom, more than heart can hold,
+   Every wave a hope divine,
+   Sun-charms, golden line on line,
+   Thou great moving mystery-shrine!
+   Thine the first sounds that the earth
+   Heard, its cradle-song at birth.
+   Hidden voices in thy deep
+   Half untold their secret keep,
+   As they murmur evermore
+   Old-world tidings to the shore.
+   Glorious sea, thy moving light
+   Spreads round earth a mantle bright,
+   Wide as range of eye or mind,
+   Tameless playmate of the wind.
+   Like a shuttle glancing free
+   In and out, thy life, O sea,
+   Whatsoe’er thy mood hath been,
+   Weaves a web of magic sheen.
+   Gracious wandering life, the air
+   Sports around thee for its share;
+   Winds that move, and winds that rest,
+   Heaving softly on thy breast,
+   Like a sea-bird from the crest,
+   Rise from off thy waves, and fly,
+   Sweeping fresh the summer sky.
+   Glorious sea, glad, unconfined,
+   Free as range of eye or mind,
+   Tameless playmate of the wind,
+   Gracious power, whate’er thou be,
+   Lay thy sweetest liberty
+   At the pilgrims’ feet, O sea.
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+THE COLONY.
+
+
+   EAST and west, and north and south,
+   As if we were shot from a cannon’s mouth,
+      Hurrah, hurrah! here we all are.
+      Never was heard in peace or war,
+         The first in the world are we,
+   Never, oh, never, was heard before,
+            Since a ball was a ball,
+            And a wall a wall,
+      And a boy to play was free,
+   That a school as old as an old oak-tree,
+      Fast by the roots, was flung up in the air,
+      Up in the air without thought or care,
+   And pitched on its feet by the sea, the sea,
+         Pitched on its feet by the sea.
+
+   Ere the old school walls were dumb
+      With the silence of despair,
+   “March boys, march! the end has come!”
+      Rang the watchword proud and clear.
+   We our standard rallied round,
+   Thrice a hundred faithful found.
+
+   Playgrounds—leagues on leagues of shore;
+      Class-rooms—all the sea-king’s caves;
+   We are touched by Ariel’s power,
+      Free of air, and earth, and waves.
+   We are elves of Ariel’s range,
+   Nought but suffers a sea change.
+
+   Ah! the wand has laid its spell
+      Over cricket-fields and trees;
+   Presto!—woods, and mountains, shells,
+      Rocks, and sea-anemones;
+   Thrice turn round and shut your eyes,
+   Open to a fresh surprise.
+
+   Open on the level sward
+      Slid Gogerddan’s {16a} hills between,
+   When Gogerddan’s genial lord
+      Looked upon the starry green,
+   Lady-bright with summer stars,
+   Heard the schoolboys’ loud hurrahs.
+
+   Lo! the panting cricket train
+      Up the valley slowly creeps,
+   Lo! a boyish hurricane
+      E’en o’er Cader Idris sweeps.
+   Never in the good greenwood
+   Lived more gaily Robin Hood.
+
+   Little bits of fairy world,
+      Fairy streamlets, dropping rills,
+   And the Lery {16b} softly curled
+      In amongst the dreaming hills:
+   Never in the good greenwood
+   Lived more gaily Robin Hood.
+
+   East and west, and north and south,
+   As if we were shot from a cannon’s mouth,
+      Hurrah, hurrah! here we all are.
+      Never was heard in peace or war,
+         The first in the world are we,
+   Never, oh, never, was heard before,
+            Since a ball was a ball,
+            And a wall a wall,
+         And a boy to play was free,
+   That a school as old as an old oak-tree,
+      Fast by the roots, was flung up in the air,
+      Up in the air without thought or care,
+   And pitched on its feet by the sea, the sea,
+         Pitched on its feet by the sea.
+
+
+
+
+VII.
+RIPPLES.
+
+
+   JOLLY, O, jolly, at eve,
+   When the golden waves
+   Are tumbling into the sun,
+      And the silent air
+   Is thinking of nothing, to run
+      Down to the shore,
+      Boys by the score,
+   Into the hollow way
+   Curved by the ebbing spray,
+   Chasing him back to his watery den,
+   Lightly, O, lightly he leaps out again.
+   Backward, O, backward we run
+   (Thinking-of-nothing-o fun),
+   Jolly wet every one.
+   Rare, O, rare,
+   Nought can compare
+   When the silent air
+   Is thinking of nothing, to run,
+   In thinking-of-nothing-o fun,
+   Out on the ebbing wave,
+   Chasing him back to his watery lair,
+   Jolly wet every one,
+   Thinking-of-nothing-o fun.
+
+   Jolly, O, jolly, at eve,
+   When the golden waves
+   Are tumbling into the sun,
+      And the silent air
+   Is thinking of nothing, to go,
+         All in a row,
+         A hundred or so,
+   Manfully take a stand,
+   Just on the edge of the land,
+   Just where the pebbles and inrushing sea
+   Battle, and rattle, and never agree,
+   Solemnly, solemnly, O!
+   Each his own pebble to throw,
+   With a heigho! jolly heigho!
+   Rare, O, rare,
+   Nought can compare
+      When the silent air
+   Is thinking of nothing, to go,
+   With a heigho! jolly heigho!
+   Solemnly, solemnly, throw
+   Pebbles and pebbles at our jolly foe,
+   Hundreds of heads in a row,
+   Thinking of nothing, heigho!
+
+
+
+
+VIII.
+THE LERY.
+
+
+      O HAPPY days, O happy days,
+         Ye pass, but do not die,
+      Bright visitants, like summer rain
+         Dropped softly from the sky;
+      Which rests awhile on earth,
+   And sinks unseen, and reappears again
+      In wondrous birth on birth,
+   New born in herb and flower, in bud and tree,
+   And fountain waters flowing clear and free.
+
+      O happy days, thy glow is on
+         Green slope and heathery hill,
+      Reflection bright of happy eyes,
+         Which there have looked their fill.
+      Ye choose ye valleys sweet,
+   Where o’er the water-song the dim woods rise,
+      Your votaries to meet,
+   And sweetest far your home where Lery bright
+   Plays in your smile with pebbles and the light.
+
+      We find you where we left you last,
+         When that glad summer noon
+      We turned to go, half gay, half sad,
+         An end had come so soon;
+      Just where the wider sweep,
+         With oak, and fern, and purple heather clad,
+      Curves from the shoulder steep,
+   Whereon ye watch the streamlet down the glade
+   Send its white thoughts through narrowing glooms of shade.
+
+                   [Picture: The Lery above Tal-y-Bont]
+
+   Look, now th’ imprisoned light is spread
+      On a clear bed of rock;
+   And the next moment tossed about,
+      A fairy shuttlecock;
+      Then in a still pool deep,
+   Heart laid to heart in chambers hollowed out,
+      The quiet wood doth sleep.
+   So wooing still and wooed, demure or gay,
+   The Lery down the vale a soul of joy doth stray.
+
+   Thy train, dear happy days, are here,
+      Each leaflet in its place,
+   They tell me round yon jutting rock
+      That I shall see your face.
+      Lo! all are paddling there,
+   For happy time recks not of mortal clock,
+      The children of last year.
+   Our fishers throw, while on the pebbly ridge
+   Tea boils, and rash feet shake the miner’s bridge.
+
+   Each tendril the old welcome gives,
+      Each leaflet in its place,
+   The very ants are marching still
+      Along the selfsame trace;
+      The hours themselves forget
+   To drop another shadow on the rill,
+      So there it lingers yet,
+   And year by year we wake up with a kiss
+   The sleeping princess of our summer bliss.
+
+
+
+
+IX.
+THE SANDS.
+
+
+   EACH shall have his own love,
+      High be linked to high,
+   Sky be kissing mountain,
+      Mountain kissing sky.
+
+   Dozing in the orchard
+      Let the goodman sit,
+   Count on summer evenings
+      Apples he will eat.
+
+   Glory to the sands O!
+      Glory give who can,
+   Where a man, who stands O!
+      Feels himself a man.
+
+   Where the east wind gallops,
+      Keen with keen-edged knife,
+   And the wide world freshens,
+      Salted with sea-life.
+
+   Where the great free waters
+      Have their freedom rolled,
+   And the golden sunbeams
+      Powdered them with gold.
+
+   Blow, ye winds, your trumpets,
+      Blow, ye winds, your fife,
+   Glory to the sands O!
+      Salted with sea-life.
+
+   With the sea-bird shrieking
+      To the sea below,
+   Clang thy wild clang, sea-bird,
+      Sea, thy organ blow.
+
+                    [Picture: The beach by Moel Ynys]
+
+   When the summer whispers
+      Float in o’er the sea,
+   Then a moving rainbow
+      Spreads itself o’er thee.
+
+   Rainbow light and silver,
+      Silver sheen and gold,
+   All the light of childhood,
+      Happy childhood bold.
+
+   There it gleams and glistens
+      Moving as we go,
+   Light of sun or childhood,
+      Who is skilled to know?
+
+   Liberty and joyance
+      Still ye give each one,
+   Manhood with the east wind,
+      Childhood with the sun.
+
+   Blow, ye winds, your trumpets,
+      Blow, ye winds, your fife,
+   Glory to the sands O!
+      Salted with sea-life.
+
+   With the sea-bird shrieking
+      To the sea below;
+   Clang thy wild clang, sea-bird,
+      Sea, thy organ blow.
+
+
+
+
+X.
+THE MARSH CIRCLE.
+
+
+   CHIMES there are on earth, harmonious splendours,
+      Subtle symphonies of ear and eye,
+   Yea, dim bridals, when the mortal spirit
+      Weds a half-veiled immortality.
+
+   Moments, as when some dumb, wistful creature
+      Gazes in its master’s eyes, to find
+   Deeps on deeps, and wins a higher nature
+      By mysterious touch of higher mind.
+
+   Whoso sees the deep eyes turned upon him,
+      Nature’s dreamlike radiance, on the height
+   Breathless-happy stands, and draws by seeing
+      Blissful inspiration, clearer sight.
+
+   Go where from his rampart Taliesin {23}
+      O’er the beaten gold of the great plain
+   Throws his charm on river, sea, and mountain,
+      Blending all in one bright living strain.
+
+   Now a sunny silence makes heart-music,
+      As it comes up smiling o’er the sea;
+   All the hill-sides dimple; on it passes,
+      In and out the enchanted shadows flee.
+
+   Now within the coronet of mountains
+      And the sea-fringed margin of the west
+   Nature’s thoughts are stirring, gusts of passion
+      Ruffle the embroidery on her breast.
+
+   Far away a trouble on the waters
+      ’Gins to whiten, then a living veil
+   Drops down from the sky, black gleam the headlands,
+      Gleam the hills through drifts of shadowy trail.
+
+   And the weird wild freedom of the marshland
+      Stretches, breadths on breadths of level gold,
+   Where the storm-scuds wander, and the rainbow
+      In the midst lets fall its glittering hold.
+
+   Broad, bright plain, free wanderland of fancy,
+      Robed in colours, all the sun can weave
+   Out of silver seas, and hill-sides glooming,
+      Molten in the ruddy fires of eve,
+
+   Cloth of gold from sands, and silken tissue
+      Spun from the blue distance, threads of white
+   Shot through by the rivers, crimson buddings
+      Of the oak groves flushed with spring delight.
+
+   He on whom the deep eyes once have turned their
+      Hidden splendours, be he where he will,
+   Evermore a prophet’s dream enfolding,
+      Walks with yearnings which he ne’er can fill.
+
+                    [Picture: The marsh behind Borth]
+
+
+
+
+XI.
+SHELLS.
+
+
+   FAIRIES all, whoever ran
+   Pell-mell from smoke-witted man,
+   Scared from haunted well and tree
+   Fairy mermaidens to be,
+   Colonists of fairy sea;
+   Empire found, and perils o’er,
+   Soon ye peeped out on the shore,
+   Frolic-bold as heretofore;
+   Village green and woodland spells
+   Lightly changed for shells O, shells!
+   Your sea besoms twice a day
+   Swish, and swirl, and hissing spray,
+   Brush all mortal taint away.
+   Twice a day the saucy waves,
+   Heads bent low, your merry slaves,
+   Tumble in of shells a store
+   From the sea-king’s palace floor.
+   On a day remembered well,
+   Never butterfly befell
+   Brighter bursting from his cell,
+   Picked we the first fairy shell.
+   Time his hinge had backward swung,
+   Youth and Age together sprung
+   In a world where all was young.
+   Age was young and Youth as old,
+   Age and Youth, two children bold,
+   Caught old Time with potent spells,
+   Magic words of shells O, shells!
+   Shells—the very air did seem
+   Opening into some bright dream,
+   And an unseen gladness swept
+   All around us as we stept.
+   Miles of hope before us lay,
+   Golden, glistening sheets of day,
+   With a sea-charm washed alway,
+   Fairy-sprinkled! who could tell?
+   Every yard might give its shell;
+   Little Cockles’ pearly sheen,
+   Chariot fit for fairy queen,
+   Pectens, dipped in colours won
+   From the rays slipped off the sun
+   In the waves, when day is done.
+   Here a ripple in and out
+   Mocking whirls the Cones about,
+   Brings them to our fingers, then
+   Laughs, and swings them off again.
+   There a dark line softly lies
+   Rich in promise ’neath the skies;
+   Happy he foredoomed to burst
+   On that fairy treasure first,
+   Ere assailed by foot accurst,
+   Or the jealous, tricksy sea
+   Rushing catch him to the knee,
+   And with slow malicious glee
+   Gently suck it back; ah me!
+   Shells O, shells! the slanted hail,
+   Thunder-driven, blind, and pale,
+   Beat on rovers bent, subdued,
+   Each apart in solitude,
+   Nursing his own woeful mood.
+   Lo! a shell bank—at the cry
+   Sunshine flashed along the sky,
+   Reckless-bright each sunny eye
+   Glistened, on the spoil they fly,
+   Cockles, Mactras, Artemis,
+   Pectens, unknown shapes of bliss,
+   Turritella, Tellens frail,
+   Orphans, delicate and pale,
+   Newly risen from the sea
+   Peerless Venus Chione.
+   Such a ring was never seen
+   Glancing coy on minstrel’s een
+   In the sweetest, shyest gloom
+   Of the young world’s maiden bloom,
+   Ere the tender dew had died
+   Hopeless, on the mountain-side,
+   And away the fairies hied.
+   Where the fairies hied would’st know?
+   To the printless margin go,
+   Where sea besoms twice a day
+   Swish, and swirl, and hissing spray,
+   Purge all mortal taint away,
+   There the fairy children play.
+
+
+
+
+XII.
+SUNDAY.—THE HILL-TOP.
+
+
+   HOW softly leading upward, the green slope
+      Leans ’gainst the southern sky,
+   And restful feet have reached the top before
+      They know they are so high.
+
+   E’en so, up from the levels of the week,
+      In its own quiet air,
+   Enthroned within a more ethereal blue,
+      The Sunday rises fair.
+
+   And ofttimes, as GOD’S peace from church and field
+      Upon their spirit lay,
+   A happy group down set made all their own
+      That gracious place and day.
+
+   Far down the shadowy tracts of gleaming sand
+      Seemed melting from the eye,
+   And all the busy week, a few dark specks,
+      Which sight could scarce descry.
+
+   The small waves chattered all along the shore;
+      But with low pleading sweet
+   The billows crept up to the tall black rocks,
+      And clasped their giant feet.
+
+   And there in talk, or silence dearer still,
+      They let their hearts go free,
+   In that sweet confidence, which nothing asks
+      But being still to be.
+
+   The sea discourses to them, or they launch
+      On summer clouds, that throw
+   A purple mantle wrought in peaceful skies
+      On dreaming waves below.
+
+   And gathering up the light of the great plain,
+      A web of colours rare,
+   They blend them, as they look, with fancies meet,
+      And peace of upper air,
+
+   Till where the river ’twixt the distant hills
+      Leads up into the skies,
+   In that fair borderland of earth and heaven
+      The changeful glory lies.
+
+   Whoso within that dreamy circle sits,
+      For him abideth still
+   The calm of upper air, the magic light
+      That hill sends on to hill.
+
+
+
+
+XIII.
+THE RETURN.
+
+
+      SALT, and sand, and rocking wave,
+         Salt, and sand, and sky,
+      All ye had to give ye gave,
+         But—good bye, good bye.
+   Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass,
+      And the ivy that clings to the wall;
+   Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass,
+      And the oak, and the ash-tree tall.
+
+      Rocking wave, and mountain bold,
+         Bright air, free to roam,
+      Say not that our hearts are cold;
+         Oh! but—home is home.
+   Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass,
+      And the ivy that clings to the wall;
+   Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass,
+      And the oak, and the ash-tree tall.
+
+      Smoothest turf, a sunshine floor,
+         Dance of cricket ball,
+      Studies, where we shut the door
+         On our cosy all.
+   Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass,
+      And the ivy that clings to the wall;
+   Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass,
+      And the oak, and the ash-tree tall.
+
+      Grey old school-house, consecrate
+         On thy hill afar,
+      Chapel, keeping solemn state—
+         Home we go, hurrah!
+   Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass,
+      And the ivy that clings to the wall;
+   Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass,
+      And the oak, and the ash-tree tall.
+
+          [Picture: Chapel and School-house from Middle Ground]
+
+
+
+
+XIV.
+THE FLAGS.
+
+
+   TO him, who wounded turned aside,
+   It mattered little that he died
+   In sunshine, in the fair springtide.
+
+   On many a grave the flowers are gay,
+   Oft ruin creeping on his prey
+   Puts forth a velvet paw in play.
+
+   O Flags, ye wrap within your fold
+   A stranger tale than e’er was told
+   Of Muses’ sons in days of old.
+
+   The homeless school, of fortune braved,
+   Will aye remember how ye waved
+   Above them, in the hour that saved.
+
+   As long as youth breathes living fire,
+   As long as scorn is on the liar,
+   And men can mount from high to higher.
+
+   Rest in the school-room, rest, and be
+   A spirit moving calm and free,
+   A silent flame of liberty.
+
+   Say, peace more stern than war demands
+   Devotion purer, cleaner hands,
+   Life larger, foot that firmer stands.
+
+   Bid Hope his thrilling clarion blow,
+   And fearless truth in boyhood glow,
+   And honour send him on his foe.
+
+   So life shall foster life, each son
+   Still better what his sire hath done,
+   And truth from truth full circle run.
+
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES.
+
+
+{16a}  Gogerddan, the seat of Sir Pryse Pryse, Bart.
+
+{16b}  The river at Borth.
+
+{23}  Taliesin, the great Welsh Bard, buried on a hill overlooking the
+plain of Borth.
+
+
+
+
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