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diff --git a/6972-0.txt b/6972-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ea31904 --- /dev/null +++ b/6972-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5040 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lays from the West, by M. A. Nicholl + +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: Lays from the West + +Author: M. A. Nicholl + +Release Date: January 11, 2015 [EBook #6972] +Release Date: November, 2004 +First Posted: February 19, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LAYS FROM THE WEST *** + + + + +Produced by Sergio Cangiano, Juliet Sutherland, Charles +Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + + LAYS FROM THE WEST + + BY + + "STELLA"--M.A. NICHOLL + + + Then the spirit reached her fingers, + Taper things of rosy snow, + Took my songs, and as she took them, + "Tiny germs," she whispered "go! + Root among the coming hours, + Seeds are ye of many flowers, + Which from out the winds will grow!" + + * * * * * + + + Dedicated + + WITH MUCH GRATITUDE AND AFFECTION + + TO + + _MRS. T. SPOTISWOOD ASH,_ + + THE MANOR HOUSE, + + BELLAGHY, IRELAND. + + * * * * * + + IN THE NORTHWEST. + + + "I'll not forget Old Ireland, were it fifty times as fair." + + In myriads o'er the prairie + Bright flowers bloom strangely fair, + There's beauty in the clear blue sky, + There's sweetness in the air; + And loveliness, with lavish hand, + Decks dell and dingle gay; + Yet still I love my native land-- + The Green Isle, far away. + + The poplar quivers in the breeze, + And by the blue lake's side. + The regal iris, tall and fair, + Blooms in her native pride; + But I dream of the broad beeches' shade + In glens beside Lough Neagh + And my longing thoughts go back to thee, + O, Green Isle, far away! + + Strange birds, in painted plumage gay, + In hundreds haunt the grove; + O'er marsh and moor, the loon and heron, + The coot and plover rove; + But I miss the lark's glad matin song, + And the thrush and blackbird's lay, + The summer songsters, sweet and wild, + In the Green Isle, far away. + Along the blue horizon line + The "bluffs" rise 'gainst the sky, + But in dreams I see Old Erin's coast-- + Her mountains wild and high + Slieve Gallon, with his hoary head + Gold-crowned at close of day, + When sunset lights the grand old hills + In the Green Isle, far away. + + There's beauty in the woodland wilds + With their varied foliage fair, + But, cowering from the light of day, + The grim wolf shelters there. + Ah! dear old woods, where I have roamed + At eve of summer day, + No hidden dangers haunt your glades, + In the Green Isle, far away. + + The clear Assiniboine winds free + Through many a fertile vale; + The antlered deer and graceful hind + Bound o'er the wooded dale; + But I miss the quiet rural scenes-- + The farm-house, thatched and grey, + That memory fondly pictures now + Of the Green Isle, far away. + + The Sabbath morn its holy calm + Breathes o'er the prairie lands, + And the answering heart hears Nature's psalm + And the wild woods clap their hands. + But I long to hear the church bell's sound + Tell to these wilds that day, + When thousands meet to praise and pray + In the Green Isle far away. + + Here life lays hold of brighter things + For the fair years to be, + But the deathless Past and all her dreams, + Old land, belong to thee! + The buried love, the buried hope + Of youth's glad summer day, + That blend with unforgotten scenes + Of the Green Isle, far away. + + And while we love this pleasant land + And own it good and fair, + Our hearts' first love goes backward + And fondly lingers there-- + Back to the dear home country, + Then forward to that day + When all shall meet together, + From the Green Isle pass'd away. + + + + + SONG. + + + "In the gloaming Oh, my darling." + + Oh! green-bosomed Isle, as the summer day's gloaming, + Lies dreamy and dun on the prairie's wild breast + There my worn, wayward heart o'er the wild waves is roaming + Far, far to the scenes that are dearest and best. + + As by bluff and by woodland, by swamp and by meadow, + The gloom gathers round in its dim, mystic pall, + Then my fancies come forth, spirit-children of shadow, + Slow gliding from haunts where the lone night-birds call. + + When the wind, ardent lover, in songful caressing, + Speaks low to the grasses that bend to his breath, + And the dew woos the rose with the balm of its blessing + And steals it with love from the shadow of death. + + Then I seek the wild glen, when the new moon is beaming + All weirdly and wan, through a cloud's fleecy haze, + 'Till I stand, young and free, in the land of my dreaming, + Clasping hands with the phantoms of happier days. + + And then, oh! mavourneen, in grey distance flying + The present, the real, grows dimmer, and dies, + See but the moonbeams, but hear the winds sighing, + And bask, fancy bound, in the light of your eyes. + + My own! though the years in the gloom of their sadness + Stand, frowning, 'tween me and the light of my star, + And memory can feel the wild might of loves madness, + Or scoff as rude Time its first sweetness would mar. + + Again, by the banks where Moyola is flowing + We stray as the moonbeams smile sweet through the dell + + Unheeded the moments, unmarked in their going, + Nor dreamed we of woe in the sound of "farewell." + + Is it lost--all the light of the fair morning vision? + Is spirit to spirit unanswering, cold? + No, it never shall die, while in memory's Elysian + It lingers in beauty and brightness untold. + + Love is love, and though Fate blasts our hope vines may sever + From the stay which their tendrils in fondness entwine + Yet the past of our joy we must cherish forever + And spirit meet spirit at memory's shrine. + + + + + A MEMORY. + + + "Indulgent Memory wakes, and, lo! they live!" + --RODGERS + + Deathless, while the years are flying, + And all lesser hopes are dying. + To my widowed heart near lying + By a life-time's love embalmed, + Is a memory, dear and tender, + And in dreams its bygone splendour + Sweetest, holiest, balm can render + To my grief, by Time uncalmed. + + In life's morning, young and early + Glistening fair through dew-drops pearly, + Burst a bud that promised fairly + Through the length of future days. + Ah! it charmed my passion'd dreaming, + Bathed in beauty's brightness, beaming + Fadeless still, and deathless seeming + In fond Hope's delusive haze. + + And, as when in wild December, + June's calm twilights we remember, + So this dream in shadowy splendour + + Ever haunts my lonely way; + And I see in fond delusion, + Glowing as in light Elysian, + The entrancing, old-time vision + Doom'd so early to decay. + + Days when Hope, how false! still flaunted + Through my dreamings, love enchanted, + Framed by busy Fancy, haunted + By glad visions of delight,-- + Morns of light, and sunsets golden, + Dreams of legends, grand and olden, + Hopes for future years, withholden + From our youthful, yearning sight. + + Past and gone! Ah! vain my sighing,-- + Hope's dead leaves are round me lying, + But their fragrances, undying, + Like a hallowed incense rise; + And I feel, with joy unspoken, + That the spirit love unbroken + Leaves this Memory for a token + Of its truth, that never dies. + + In that land whose beauty vernal + Through tried ages blooms eternal + Thou, in bliss undreamed, supernal + Baskest in the glory-light + Where celestial joys inspire + All heaven's vast, unnumbered choir + With sweet songs that never tire, + Through the fadeless summer bright. + + Here, how sad this dreary roaming, + Through the shadows of earth's gloaming, + Waiting for the longed-for coming + Of the lingering Morning Star; + But swift time is onward fleeting-- + Backward is the past retreating, + Nearer, nearer draws our meeting + In the future, dim and far. + + + + + AFTER LIFE'S FEVER. + + + _Obiit, June, 1882_. + + --"And then, a flood of light, a seraph's hymn, + And God's own smile, forever, and forever." + + Oh! pale, calm face; eyes by the Death-kiss sealed, + Cold hands, upon the silent bosom folden; + Oh! soul, set free--of all sin's sickness healed, + Basking in light, from mortal eyes withholden, + _In cœlo quies_. + + Still heart, that ached and throbb'd with human passion, + Locks, white with snow of many a winter past, + Tired body, weary after earth's poor fashion, + Sleep calmly till the waking trumpet blast-- + _In cœlo quies_. + + All over now--the heart-ache and the burning + Of thoughts, so trammelled by this "mortal coil;" + The soul has cast behind its moans and yearning, + The hands are resting from the long life's toil,-- + _In cœlo quies_. + + I, mournful gazer, watching by the portal + Whence thou, from death to life, hast entered in, + Would fain catch one stray gleam of light immortal, + To tell me, ever drowning earth's wild din, + _In cœlo quies_. + + I might not hear the angel welcome ringing, + Nor see the pearly portals open wide, + Wherein the ransomed band, the new song singing, + In white robes wander by life's river side, + _In cœlo quies_. + + "_In cœlo quies_," while the storms are beating + Along earth's desert moorlands, wild and wide; + While skies shall lower, and angry waves are meeting + Thy bark is moored--thou art beyond the tide, + _In cœlo quies_. + + "_In cœlo quies_"--Rest, pure, deep, eternal, + Peace, in a perfect, blissful, endless calm; + Charmed by the beatific joys supernal, + Lull'd by the melody of seraph's psalm, + _In cœlo quies_. + + Here, we but dream it all--the rest--the glory, + Here we but yearn for it in sob and pain; + Till knees wax weary and till locks grow hoary, + Still "westward journeying," at length to gain, + _In cœlo quies_. + + But _thou_ mayest sleep; thy toilsome warfare ended, + The long, rough life-path has been nobly trod, + And with our lost ones, thou sweet songs hast blended, + To hail them found, beside the throne of God? + _In cœlo quies_. + + + + + LIGHT AT EVENTIDE. + + + Round us in the stillness spreading, + Comes the night. + Mortal ears can't hear the treading + Of her footsteps, soft and light. + + Dusky veil that shades the valleys, + Bringing rest; + Shadowy glooms in greenwood alleys. + Twilight dreamings, sweet and blest. + + All the day-time cares are ended, + And instead, + Now by unseen bands attended, + Far, in fancy, we are led. + + Misty forms of mystic seeming + Hover near; + Memory's myriad tapers gleaming + Light old scenes and make them clear-- + + Morn's vain hopes, and noon's stern sorrows, + Tears and cares; + Days of toiling, and to-morrow's + Bringing less of wheat than tares. + + And the chequered, varied pages + Of life's book + Seem a sea whose calms and rages + Now the tired heart cannot brook. + + Evening calm! ah, best and purest + Time of peace; + Soothing balm, when hope is surest, + To bid all vain doubting cease. + + Pointing on, when near the pleasant, + Rest awaits; + When we leave this weary present + And have gained the pearly gates. + + And as evening shadows, creeping, + Gather round + Dim eyes, worn so weak with weeping, + Learn to smile as peace is found. + + In the hope so full of cheering + And delight-- + Home, sweet home! our rest we're nearing! + Evening time shall bring us light. + + Light of heaven! Earth's gloom adorning + With thy smile, + Earnest of the eternal morning + After this brief "little while." + + + + + CHRISTMAS EVE. + + + Ruddy bright the dying embers + In the glooming, glow and burn, + Scenes of olden-time Decembers, + Ashes now in Times' great urn, + That the heart so well remembers + At this haunted hour reborn:-- + All the fairy scenes Elysian + Born again in recollection, + Seen with mirror-like reflection, + Throng upon the wondering vision. + Once again I hear the river + In the darkness rush and roar, + See the pine-boughs wave and quiver, + Hear the oak trees, blasted, hoar, + Muttering, as their gaunt arms shiver, + "Come again, oh! days of yore!" + Come, oh times of hope and longing, + When the beauteous, pure ideal, + Seemed tangible and real-- + "Love the light of Truth's belonging." + + And the woodland walks, enchanted, + By the moonlight's mystic sheen, + Seen as near as when Hope flaunted + In the distance, dimly seen, + That the witched hour seems haunted + By the joys that once have been. + Dear old days! they seem returning. + Though their radiance long has vanished, + Though their rays stern fate has banished, + Fancy still can see them burning. + + See their magic, nameless graces, + Through the shadows flit and gleam, + See again beloved faces + Shine around as in a dream, + And the well-remembered places + Of the bygone, nearer seem, + Till all present melancholy, + Fades away, and sweet and tender, + Visions of life's spring-time splendour, + Gleam among the bay and holly. + + Hark! the Christmas bells are ringing + From the grey church-steeple near, + And the choir are sweetly singing, + "Nowel! Hail Messiah here! + Nowel! for He cometh, bringing + Unto all mankind good cheer." + Through the night the music stealing + Bringeth soothing sweet and pleasant, + Sheds a peace upon the present, + Future days in light revealing. + + + + + AT ANCHOR. + + + "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and forever" + HEBREWS xiii. 8. + + + In life's young morning blue-eyed promise smiled + O'er a fair future of enchanting grace, + And sweet toned love the golden hours beguiled, + And Fortune's radiant smile illumed the place. + + But change, dread vulture, swooped upon her prey. + And seized my treasures as Time's car sped on, + Then traitor love took wings, and fled away. + And long ere noon I wept a setting sun. + + Then Phoenix-like, beside the smoldering pile, + Kind friendship rose with open, outstretched hands, + But, ere I grasped them, death with icy smile + Had rudely snapp'd in twain the three-fold bands. + + E'en while I mourned, I heard a thrilling voice + That said in stirring accents, "Up! arise! + Work, that in harvest time thou mayest rejoice!" + And Fame stood pointing to the brightening skies. + + Then dreams, false phantoms, filled the gloaming air + And lured me, spell-bound, by a labyrinth maze, + But morning beams awakened new despair-- + The meteor glories passed in mist and haze. + + Through shady groves I strayed, and on before + Walked high-browed Knowledge, calm-eyed and severe + Unwearied still, I trod his footprints o'er, + But fainting fell, the longed-for prize anear. + + Hard-smitten then, I wept; all woe-all gloom! + The heart-void still unfilled, ached keen and sore, + When through the inky darkness shot a gleam + Of new-born glory, unrevealed before. + + Dear Lord! How frail these bauble-toys of Time + When Thy "forever" dawns upon the heart; + Thy perfect fullness, Saviour, how divine, + E'en while we taste its blessedness in part! + Still yesterday, to-day, while ages roll + In grand, eternal vastness, still the same, + Oh! potent Healer! every whit made whole, + I sing glad Hallelujah to Thy name! + + + + + + THE OLD TRYSTING PLACE. + + + "Die erste Liebe ist die beste." + + Through the green boughs the golden sunshine falling + Glints on the glades and lonely woodland bowers; + Bird answers bird, through the wide woodlands calling, + In the deep hush of the calm summer hours. + + The limpid river winding through the meadows, + Laughing and sparkling in the sunny noon, + Takes peaceful tones here, 'neath the beeches' shadows, + And sings sweet idylls in low, fitful tune. + + Songs of the olden days, of hopes and pleasures, + Songs of the love of youth's glad morning times, + That sigh around our path like dream-world treasures, + Soothing as music of the vesper chimes. + + The rustic bridge, the leaves' soft shadows playing + Down in the water-depths, and from away + 'Mong the blue hills, come mingled echoes straying, + The pleasant sounds that fill the summer day. + + Aburnum's gold, and quivering beech-leaves blending, + Sway, dancing in the breezes, to and fro; + Wild hyacinths, their blue heads lowly bending, + Listen the secrets of the winds to know. + + Oh! quaint old trysting-place! oh! lights and shadows, + And sounds that haunt the dreams of Life's glad May! + Dreams withered like the May-flowers in the meadows + Or roses of the Junes long passed away. + + Here, oft in dreams, I see my own true maiden, + The pure flower-face, the rippling golden hair; + Ah! many years have roll'd past, sorrow-laden, + Since blue-eyed Edmee waited for me there! + + Ah! murmuring brook, with waving willow fringes, + Ah! woodland picture, all your charmed glow + Is touched and changed by Truth's own sober tinges, + Tints that youth's eager eyes see not, nor know. + + Fraught with these gleams of old-time faith and feeling, + Fraught with the memory of "what might have been," + A still, small voice says all is God's wise dealing, + Behind the clouds is brightness yet unseen. + + Young love and hope in all their matchless glory, + Smile on our morning-time, then fade away; + Teaching unwilling hearts the sad, true story, + No lasting joy is here, all knows decay. + + "Die erste Liebe ist die beste," leaving + A holy radiance round the scenes we knew; + A potent power to point lone spirits, grieving, + To deathless Love whose charms are ever new. + + It ever shows, "in part," in sweet tuition, + What we shall know when we have gained the light, + When all our highest hopes fade in fruition, + Where the Eternal Summer beameth bright. + + + + + THY WORD IS A LIGHT UNTO MY FEET. + + + Oh! Light of Lights! dark, dark is earth's long way, + Cloud upon cloud looms o'er the path I stray; + Far-off and dim the heavenly Land appears, + Through the thick mist of weak distrust--and fears. + Helpless, I seek Thy Word, and hear Thy voice, + That bids me always in the Lord rejoice; + Pointing from doubts within, and this world's wile + To peace and victory, in "a little while." + + Oh! Saviour, Friend, how dark is life's rough path. + What gloom and sorrow haunts this Vale of Death; + Subtle the way, beset with many a snare + And hidden evils lurking everywhere. + But in this Light that shows my love, I see, + This path Thou'st trod, and borne these griefs, for me, + "Fear not!" I hear in tones of tenderest love + "'Tis in thy weakness that my strength I prove." + + The world's temptations rage on life's wild sea, + Drifting the fragile bark I steer to Thee, + But safe I pass the rocks and angry waves, + Helped by Thy mighty arm that shields and saves. + And still above the wind's and water's roar + A calm voice hails me from the distant shore, + "Cast all your care undoubtingly on Me, + Fully and freely, for I care for thee." + + When twilight shades fall round me, dim and grey, + All those I love the most are far away, + I look to Thee, and dry my willful tears-- + With love like Thine, I dread no lonely years. + If 'tis Thy will, let bitter partings come, + Sweet shall the meetings be in yonder Home; + While here I have Thy love that cannot die, + And could I feel alone when Thou art nigh? + + Weary with waiting for Thy promised rest, + Dismayed with doubts, with sinfulness distressed; + "Oh! let Thy kingdom come!" I pray "that I + May join the glad new song they sing on high;" + Then thy sweet words bring patience, "I prepare + For thee an heavenly mansion, bright and fair, + That where I am Thou mayest with Me abide, + And taste full joy for ever by My side." + + I bless thee, Saviour, for this word of life, + This light to guide me safe through every strife, + This lantern o'er my pathway shining clear + To show the dangers, and the Helper near. + I love to see it beaming, day by day, + Thine own bright smile, that lights the darksome way; + "Led by Thy counsel," oh! what joy to be + "Received in glory," Lord, at last by Thee. + + + + + MEMORIES. + + + "In der Weit, weit, + Aus der Einsamkeit, + Wollen sie Dich locken."--FAUST. + + + When the glad, bright days of our youth's fresh prime, + Shall have pass'd, as a dream that at morning dies; + When the long blank stretch of the coming time + Like a desolate desert before us lies, + Dreary and cheerless, 'neath sunless skies. + + When young, sweet love, with her luring smile, + The mystic charm-light of halcyon hours, + Shall no more with her witch'ry our souls beguile, + As the leaves grow seer on Life's fading bowers, + And the blushes are pale on its withering flowers. + + When the strains we loved in the days of yore + No more with their sweetness our heart's-chords thrill, + When Hope's roseate meteors glow no more, + Like the summer sunrise o'er vale and hill, + That our dreamings with radiance were wont to fill. + + When these are gone, shall the lone heart know + No solace the solitude's gloom to cheer? + Shall no stray beams lighten the spirit's woe + As it moans "alone!" e'en when crowds are near? + Must _all_ be lost that was once so dear? + + Ah, no! Though Time is a thief, I ween, + Stealing youth's best wealth as the swift years go, + Still the memories of pleasures which once have been-- + The dreams of the beautiful "Long ago," + Are our own to keep, and shall aye be so! + + + + + "THE KING IS DEAD." + + + Hush! There's a solemn pause, + And looks of fear! + You ask--Whence comes the cause? + Grim Death is here! + + Oh! well thou answerest, well-- + 'Tis fairly said; + Our hearts thrill to the knell, + "The King is dead!" + + Dead! And the bell swings, swings + On in its deep, sad tone; + We own the King of Kings + Is King alone! + + We crown our Kings, we place + Bay leaves on victors' brow, + But all our mortal race + Can boast is _now._ + + The body lay in state, + All fair to mortal eye; + The soul's eternal fate-- + Oh! Death, thy mystery! + + + + + TO "X. Y. Z.," + On receiving a paper from him. + + "Old places have a charm for me + The new can ne'er attain; + Old faces--how I long to see + Their kindly looks again!"--Anon. + + + "X. Y. Z.," your paper was + A welcome thing, indeed, to me; + It brought the memories of old days, + Like fragrance wafted o'er the sea. + + It spake about familiar nooks, + The dear old paths I know so well; + I almost thought I heard the brooks, + Or roamed again my favourite dell. + + The happy hours, the rustic glades, + The gloaming time, the twilight stroll, + Ah, me! these April evening shades + With old-time dreams can haunt one's soul. + + The heart feels young again and free, + And no such word is known as care; + Sweet rays of light that used to be + Seem hovering in the twilight air! + + The hedges and the fields of green, + The lanes, the flowers, the wild bird's trill, + The trees, seen down the water's sheen. + The cattle lowing o'er the hill! + + Your well-drawn school-life picture, too, + My school-time morn recalls again; + 'Tis like an old tune, sweet and true, + That mingles pleasing notes with pain. + + The fields, the schools, the village way, + The quaint, old-fashioned, country rhyme, + All come, like mystic glows that stray + Across the yellowing fields of Time. + + The English lanes have lovely flowers, + And moss, and ferns, and birds that sing, + But Erin--green Erin--still is ours. + And to her name our fond hearts cling. + + Each land we visit claims some grace-- + Some special charm it calls its own; + Yet patriot souls must love the place + Which childhood's happy memories crown. + + + + + LOVE. + + + When first from Eden's blissful bowers, + Man roamed o'er earth in exile driven, + Kind Heaven, to cheer his lonely hours, + A source of joy to him hath given. + + 'Tis Love, that lights our darkest days, + 'Tis Love, that cheers our keenest woe, + 'Tis Love, whose soul inspiring rays, + Gilds all our lives with heaven-lent glow. + + Ambition leads us for a while + To follow many a meteor light-- + Whose flickering beams our souls beguile, + And lure us on to hopeless night. + + And Fame may sound her clarion voice-- + Wealth bring his hoards from every clime, + But Age shall come, and earth's frail joys + Must own the sway of sovereign Time. + + But Love, as flying years go past, + Shall glow with holier, tenderer beam, + And shine, our guiding star at last + Till our dull hearts shall catch a gleam. + + And when our life on earth is o'er + And we from all our toil shall rest, + The beams of Love will light that shore + Where Love has ransomed all the Blest! + + + + + A BIRTHDAY ANNIVERSARY. + + + "Tis sweet, when year by year we lose + Friends out of sight, in faith to muse + How grows in Paradise our store!"--KEBLE. + + His Birthday! but to-night there is no gladness, + As in the bright old days forever flown; + And in my heart one aching thought of sadness + Seems ever whispering, Alone! Alone! + + The darkness gathers round, and, wan and olden, + The worn day paler grows, and dies away, + And all life's light and brightness now seem folden + Beneath the twilight's dusky mantle gray. + + The old church tower, amid the shadows looming, + Stands grim and sombre in the dying light; + The trees with leafless branches shiver, moaning, + As the sad winds sigh softly through the night. + + Weird looks the ruined church, where ivy creeping + Decks the old walls fast mouldering in decay; + And peace rests o'er the graves in whose calm keeping, + In quiet safety, sleeps the treasured clay. + + Here in this corner, where his grave is lying, + The fir trees throw deep shade, and soft and low, + When summer eve or winter day is dying, + The winds seem ever sighing songs of woe! + + Oh! cherished spot! beloved beyond all measure, + Your holy peace that brings a balm so blest! + When turning from the world, in grief or pleasure, + I seek your calm, and hunger for your rest! + + How feeble, then, seem all the ties that bound me + To this world's ways, that held such charms for me + And heaven-born dreams and holy thoughts surround me + Until from earth's vain things my soul is free! + + Then do I feel this wound of Mercy's giving + Draws all my hopes from earth to holier love. + An e'en while here, sin-stained and lonely living, + My heart is with my treasure fixed above! + + Still, looking upward to the Heavenly Mansion, + Where he abides--where we shall meet him there-- + Where soul with soul shall blend in the expansion + Of that world's higher life, immortal, fair! + + That land of beauty, where the Lamb in glory + Gathers His own to perfect bliss and peace, + Where all the ransomed sing Redemption's story + In joys celestial that can never cease. + + Thrice happy lot was thine, oh, blessed spirit! + So early called from this dark vale of woe-- + From chequered scenes of warfare--to inherit + That perfect love that God's own favoured know. + + Then could we wish thee back to dwell with mortals + And bear those storms that toss Time's troubled sea? + No! from that home beyond the pearly portals + Thou canst not come, but we will go to thee! + + + + + + + + IN MEMORIAM + + OF + + R. A. WILSON, ESQ., + + EDITOR OF THE BELFAST MORNING NEWS. + + + Fair vales of Ulster! in the noontide smiling, + Blue Northern mountains, frowning to the sky; + Rivers that flow along, with song beguiling + The summer day _your_ beauties, too, must die! + + Know ye no _requiem_? Ah! streamlets borrow + Your tones from tearful voices! Mountains blue, + O'er your high heads let heavy clouds of sorrow + Tell that ye mourn the death of Patriot true. + + Erin! green Erin! let your great heart feel it! + Bid all your sons and daughters, fair and brave, + By dropping tears and mourning faces tell it, + As they place laurels on a new-made grave! + + Lowly he lies to day? Death's deep, calm slumber + Has claimed another of our cherished ones; + As he, the talented, ranks with the number + Of Erin's lost, best-loved--her gifted sons! + + "Barney Maglone" is dead! Let the winds sighing + On their fleet wings, bear far the wail of woe + To every land. Let them in wild, sad crying + Tell out to all the sorrow that we know. + + _Our_ Poet, and not all Westminster's glory + Could ever give him half so loved a grave + As this green mound, with simple cross, whose story + Shall live 'mong annals of our gifted brave! + + Methinks that far among old Ireland's mountains + I hear the breezes sing a sad dirge, low, + Wild, and yet soft, with tears from many fountains + And murmuring riven wailing in their flow. + + The grand old woods, with leafy branches waving, + Mingle their many harps in one refrain, + Blent with the waves, whose foam our coast is laving, + Rolling afar, weeping aloud the strain-- + + Waters and wondrous deep, + Mountains and valleys; + Woodlands and heathery steep, + Lone greenwood alleys, + + Sound the long wail of woe, + Tell the news, sad and low, + Let all the wide world know + Of the loved, lost one! + + Waves of deep, boundless sea, + Boiling for ever free, + Tell through the time to be + Of the bright, lost one! + + Erin, whose bosom green, + His own, his loved shrine has been, + Feel the woe thou hast seen + For the true, lost one! + + His land, in weal or woe, + In dark gloom or sunny glow, + Do all Ireland's great ones know + Such zeal as this lost one? + + Bright dreams! ah, how fleeting + Was his life's fair story! + Swift, swift was the meeting + Of Death, with earth's glory! + + Unrivalled in splendour + His sky was at morning, + Still brightening, its grandeur + His noonday adorning. + + But a dark cloud rose glooming, + Ah, me! 'twas Death's shadow! + It chilled the heat blooming + Of hillside or meadow! + + Oh, waters and wondrous deep, + Mountains and valleys, + Woodlands and heathery steep, + Lone greenwood alleys-- + + Sound the weird wail of woe, + Tell the news sad and low, + Let all the wide world knew + Of Erin's best lost one! + + + + + WELCOME TO SPRING. + + + Oh, Spring! sweet Spring! with your golden hours, + Thrice welcome back to our vales and bowers! + I have sighed for you through the Winter's gloom, + And counted the months, till again you come. + Then, welcome, sweetest! I hail you here, + Fairest child of the smiling year! + + I have watched for your advent with longing eyes, + As you lingered 'neath sunnier southern skies; + I have wafted songs o'er the winds to thee + The sighs of a lover's fond constancy. + Then, welcome, darling! to glen and grove, + Child of gladness, and nope, and love! + + I see your footprints along the woods, + And your magic touch on the opening buds, + Bursting to birth on hedge and tree, + In promise of vernal life to be. + Then, welcome, Spring! to our land again, + Bringing beauty and me in your happy train! + + I have marked where you paused by the streamlet's side, + There smiled the primrose, in early pride, + All golden fair 'mid her leaves of green. + Dropped from your garland, oh, beauteous queen! + Then, welcome! to brighten our long-left bower + Fair child of sunshine, and joy, and flowers! + + I have paused entranced in the early morn, + When the birds awoke as the day was born, + Pealing welcomes wild in their native glee. + And my heart went out in their songs to thee, + On the fresh winds borne o'er the hills along, + Child of music, and mirth, and song! + + Oh, Spring! sweet Spring! 'neath your gentle reign. + Life, light, and beauty are born again; + And sad hearts, hopeless in Winter days, + Break forth to singing glad songs of praise-- + For that promise renewed in your yearly birth + Of a fadeless Spring and a ransomed Earth! + + + + + ONLY "A LITTLE WHILE." + + + I saw the sun arise in light at morning; + My being drank the beauty, like some dream + That comes when all is dark, the gloom adorning + With gilding mystic--bright--a soul-world gleam + + I saw the noontide flush on grove and meadow, + I heard the coo of birds that seem'd at rest; + And the fair radiance, all undimm'd by shadow, + Was like a foretaste of the bright and blest. + + I saw, when evening's mellow sunlight glinted, + Far and anear, gleaming on wood and gold; + Mountain and valley shone all carmine-tinted, + Old Ocean's burnished breast seem'd heaving gold. + + Only "a little while" since morn rose brightly, + Followed by noontide calm: a little while + Since sunset glory lit all Nature, lightly + Blessing the earth with one sweet parting smile. + + Only "a little while" a meet type, showing + How brief is earth's short day--how soon 'tis o'er; + Morn, noon, and night, still onward, onward going, + So soon to land us on the eternal shore. + + Only "a little while," poor child of sadness! + The shadows must come first, the clouds and gloom; + Then, the full glow of Heaven, the new born gladness, + When Christ, thy risen Lord, prepares thee room. + + In that fair Home, where He has passed before us, + And in "a little while," shall call us in; + Here, with His love's own glory shining o'er us, + Strong in His strength, we run that goal to win! + + Only "a little while," gay child of pleasure! + The night is spent so far--the morn is near; + Then think! oh, think! where hast thou hid thy treasure? + In these frail, dying toys that charm thee here. + + Oh! in "a little while," their borrowed radiance + Shall fade, as starlight fades when dawn is nigh; + And all earth's glittering show, her smiles and fragrance, + In the fierce fire of wrath shall melt and die! + + Only "a little while!" would we but ponder + These three brief words, their length and breadth and + height + A solemn sign to each, a ray of wonder + From the Unseen, to light the spirit's night. + + "A little while"--past, present, future blending + Shall be a tale soon told, and pass'd for aye; + Then the eternal life, that cannot die--unending, + Undying woe, or Heaven's own dazzling day. + + + + LIFE'S PATHWAY. + + + We walk among labyrinths of wonder, but tread the mazes with + a club; + We sail in chartless seas, but behold! the Pole-star is above + us--TUPPER. + + Life is a pathway, stretched from morn till eve, + O'er which, through shade and sunshine, we must go + And, whether bright or dark this life we live, + Its end must bring us unto joy or woe; + Joy, that no mortal's holiest dreams can know, + Or dread, unending; fearful depths of woe! + + This path is fair at morning, wondrous fair; + With verdant windings, hiding from the view + The far-off journey, and what may be there, + Hid by the Future hilltops, high and blue; + And morn's glad sunlight smiles from dazzling skies, + Gilding the path we tread with heaven-lent dyes. + + Oh! youth is sweet! for tender hands are near, + And eyes aglow with Love's own magic ray, + Heart meeting heart, each to the other dear-- + Through hours that, ere we count them, glide away; + For none can turn to seek a cherished place-- + One only life, whose path we can't retrace! + + And soon they pass, these meteor joys of earth, + That flash and gleam along the troubled way; + Till wondering wanderers question if their birth + Dawns from a Land that knows no sad decay; + Some sinless region, from whose portals bright + These fleeting rays descent in heavenly light. + + Such glorious hues, in golden glory glowing, + When sunrise splendour glads the morning sky; + That bloom awhile, and as they bloom bestowing + Beauty and light, so soon to melt and die, + Leaving a yearning in the darkened heart + To know more closely what we see in part. + + The noonday calm, the sunny Summer hours, + The wild-birds' warbled songs, the balmy air; + Life's early pathway strewn with earth's sweet flowers-- + Can these be dying things--so bright, so fair? + Or lights to lead us o'er a chequered road, + And cheer the shadows to a blest abode? + + Oh! spell-bound Fancy fain would wander far, + If we might only break this mortal thrall; + And roam, unshackled, o'er Time's broken bar, + Trace these gleams whose glory lights on all! + Then would we see in all below, above, + The Great Creator's perfect power and love. + + Yet in this path that stretched before us lies + We may, as oft with weary feet we tread + Through chequered ways of change, see through the mysteries + The living promise from their gleamings shed, + That far from mortal things, and sin, and care, + There is a glorious world, unchanging, fair. + + Oh! may we trace in all that lives and grows + The shadows of a perfect life, unseen; + As when some star that in the twilight glows + In mirrored dimly in the water's sheen, + And we can see, in the calm lake's cool breast, + The far-off glow that lingers in the West. + + Thus, as we onward go, may thoughts be ours + Whose holy pureness in our souls may raise + An anthem of thanksgiving, till life's hours, + Ending, shall find our hearts' attuned to praise + That Love which cheered us on earth's chequered way, + O'er the long path that led to Cloudless Day! + + + + + CLOUDS IN MAY. + + + "May is here, sweet 'Mois de Marie,' but my sky is + overcast!"--ST. GERMAN. + + The hush of twilight, fair and still + Great cloud-ranks, bright with gorgeous dyes + That linger in the Western skies, + Ere Night's deep gloom steals o'er the hill. + The wind sighs softly round the eaves, + The May's fresh sweetness fills the air, + And Peace seems hovering everywhere. + Oh, restless heart, that aches and grieves!-- + Grieves when the earth is bright and green, + And Summer's balmy breeze and flowers + Are brightening, charming all the hours + That span the long, long "bridge between" + Dear hopes and their fruition, laid + In many a way, by human plan. + But ah! these dream-world thoughts of man + Soon, soon can droop, and blight and fade! + + We know 'tis best. Then wherefore try + To ask whence come the darksome clouds? + We know 'tis God's own hand that shroud + Our coming days in mysteries. + "A little while," and there is room + In that bright, blessed land above, + To see, and feel, and taste the love + That sends us now the clouds and gloom. + Why come the clouds? God only knows + Why human hearts need pain and woe; + But Faith's glad gleams still come and go, + Like sunbeams flashing on the snows + Of earth's dark winter-time, and He + Shall smile at last, and frosts shall melt, + And heavenly sunshine shall be felt + When Time fades in Eternity + + + + + A FRAGMENT. + + + "My spirit beats her mortal bars + As down dark tides the glory glides, + Then, star-like, mingles with the stars."--TENNYSON. + + Oh, restful peace of night! The balmy air + Laden with myriad sounds of things so fair, + The waving branches, and the leaves' low whispering + The wondrous songs the winding river sings, + That through the meadow-lands and forest ways, + By flowery nooks, and glades, and valleys strays. + + Oh! shadowy time of dreams, and mysteries, + And longing hopes! Far in the dark blue skies + The star-worlds glimmer brightly through the night; + The flowers are sleeping that at close of day + Wept dew-tears, as the sun's last fading light + From glen and moor land slowly passed away, + When amorous zephyrs wooed them softly sighing + In odorous breaths, as eve's last glow was dying. + + Oh! stars, that through the darkness smile and gleam, + Like glory-rays that gild the dreary gloom, + Or like some soul-world glance or mystic dream + That from the mind's vast store of summer bloom + We feel at times--your influence comes to raise + Our hearts above earth's night of doubts and haze + For all these holy thoughts of peace, that spring + From hearts at rest from daytime cares and pains, + Are messengers of love, sent from the King + That in the blessed country lives and reigns. + And from its gates, above the starry heaven, + Come mystic rays that round our pathway stray-- + His guiding lights that to our souls are given, + Foretastes that cheer and brighten all our way! + + + + + SPRING THOUGHTS. + + + "Of the bright things in earth and air + How little can the heart embrace- + Soft shades and gleaming lights are there + I know it well, but cannot trace!"--KEBLE + + Spring comes again, and the freed flowers are springing + From the cold, frost-bound earth; + And on the budding trees the wild birds singing, + Hail Nature's glad new birth! + + And hope awakes from many a heart-grave using, + Glad gloriously and new; + And many souls, in faith and trust, are prizing + That promise sweet and true; + + Summer and Winter, ever coming, going, + Springtime and Harvest days, + And falling leaves and opening buds are showing + God's ever faithful ways. + + That point us to the resurrection morning, + And to the gladsome day, + When light eternal, the far East adorning, + Shall chase these glooms away. + + And she shall rise who left our home so early, + And left our hearts in gloom, + Clad like the flowers, in beauty's bloom all fairly + Arising from the tomb. + + In that fair Spring and in that Summer shadeless, + With her we, too, shall live-- + There, 'neath His smile whose glory, beaming fadeless, + Eternal peace shall give. + + And all these ties that Time's rough hand had driven + Shall be united there, + And every cross a Father's hand had given + Be gemmed with jewels fair! + + + + + LINES. + + + On reading "Lays of Love and Fatherland," by X. Y. Z. + + Oh! say not now that Erin's harp + Is left untouched by minstrel hand; + Oh! say not that no minstrel heart + Sings now of "Love and Fatherland." + Green Ulster's mountains and her vales + Hear once again a patriot's lyre; + Ierna's legendary tales + Once more are told in patriot fire! + + And hearts beat high, as when of old + In chieftain's hall or peasant's cot + The stories of our land were told + In songs whose spell was half forgot + Till, touched again, the chords resound + That bid our slumbering zeal return, + And souls, so long in coldness bound, + With old-time fire and fervour burn! + + And favoured ones, whom love shall bless + In life's bright, sunny morning hours, + Shall sing in joy and happiness + These songs in Hope's enchanted bowers, + For youth hath dreams, and tho' they go + like sunset fading from the sky, + The cherished songs of "long ago," + While memory lives, can never die. + + Song's potent powers, like holy things + That hover round our path unseen, + On airy wings, to fancy brings + Old scenes, new-clad in fairy sheen. + And like sweet music heard at eve + In some cathedral, old and grey, + Such songs can cheer the hearts that grieve, + And chase all present gloom away. + + + + + IF "SOMEONE" LOVES US. + + + If life's path grows dull and dreary, + With grim shadows on it cast; + If the tired heart grows weary + When all joy seem o'er and past; + When e'en Hope hath ceased to cheer us + With its warm and sunny ray, + And the peace that once was near us + From our pathway steals away + There's one source where we can borrow + Sweetest wealth to keep and claim, + If we feel in joy or sorrow + _Someone_ loves us all the same! + + If fair-faced Pleasure brightly + Beam upon our happy home, + And our hearts with hope beat lightly + Of brighter days to come; + If fickle Fortune, smiling, + Strew the pleasant path with flowers, + And Mirth, with song beguiling, + Lead the merry-footed hours-- + There's a deeper, holier gladness + That is ours to keep and claim, + If we feel in joy or sadness + _Someone_ loves us all the same! + + If our thoughts, at evening blending + With the dim and shadowy light, + Bring us dreams of bliss unending + In the Haven, calm and bright-- + Oh! how sweet the thought--"for ever + 'Mong the sinless _we_ shall stand, + There united, ne'er to sever, + In the bright and better land:" + And e'en then, refined and holy, + Free from earthly stain and sin, + Shall the pure heart, meek and lowly, + Wear the crown true love shall win. + + + + + NEW YEAR'S SONG. + + + "Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky. + The flying clouds, the frosty light; + The year is dying in the night-- + Ring out, wild bells, and let it die! + + "Ring out the Old; ring in the New! + Ring, happy bells, across the snow! + The year is going; let it go-- + Ring out the false! ring in the truer!"--TENNYSON. + + + Oh! welcome! welcome! glad New Year! + We hail with joy your birth. + Let peace and love reign far and near, + And plenty fill the earth! + + Old Year, good-bye! a last good-bye + To sorrow, woe and sin! + Let all of darkness with thee die + And all of light begin! + + When first we bade you welcome here + We hailed you with delight; + But ah! how many then were near, + So far away to-night! + + Ah! well! if thorns were 'mong thy flowers, + Or clouds were in thy sky, + We owe thee many blissful hours + Whose memory ne'er can die! + + Farewell, farewell, for aye, Old Year, + And as you pass from view, + For all those golden hours a tear + That pass away with you! + + "Le Roi est mort!" "Vive le Roi!" + The Old Year, weeping, dies! + Ere we can mourn, a joyous chime + Peals through the midnight skies. + + Oh! welcome! welcome! New-born Year! + We join the strains of joy; + To everyone our hearts hold dear + Be peace without alloy! + + May fadeless light their pathway bless; + And, for a lasting stay, + Oh! may they find that happiness + That cannot pass away. + + For years may come, and years may go, + And earthly joys grow old; + But heavenly love no change can know-- + No time can make it cold. + + Oh! welcome! welcome! New-born Year! + And, as we hail your birth, + May pure and holy thoughts come near + And raise our hopes from earth! + + + + + OUR NATIVE LAND. + + + Our Native Land! Our Native Land! + Long may old Erin's vales be green; + May plenty smile on every hand, + Be want and woe unseen! + Oh! let us join with heart and hand + To raise the song--Our Native Land! + + Our Native Land! Our Native Land! + May countless blessings on her smile + May dove-eyed Peace her lily-wand + Wave o'er pure Emerald Isle-- + Her sons, united brethren, stand, + To raise the song--Our Native Land! + + Our Native Land! Our Native Land! + Let patriot voices join the song, + And swell the chorus high and grand, + Till every breeze shall bear it on. + O'er flowery mead and wave-kissed strand + Loud let it ring--Our Native Land! + + Our Native Land! Our Native Land! + Let Erin's sense the notes prolong, + Together joined-a mighty band + United by one common song. + 'Tis Honour's right-her just command + Then let us love Our Native Land! + + + + + TO THE SEA. + + + Oh! rolling waves, while ye sing around me, + My poises beat to your fitful tune, + And higher thoughts in my breast awaken, + But the spell must vanish too soon, too soon. + Here while I lie let your echoes linger, + And rest awhile on this lute of mine; + And though I play with an erring finger, + The sounds shall charm if they're caught from thine. + And my song shall be rich in melody, + Learned from thy singing, oh' tuneful Sea! + + Sadly sigh while the clouds loom o'er thee, + Dark and grey in yon stormy sky; + Foaming billows, your angry wailing + Fills my soul like a hopeless cry! + Heaving breast with your great heart throbbing + Ocean pulses that wildly thrill; + Wandering waves in such cadence breaking, + Rolling, rolling, and never still. + Oh! that my soul, like thine, were free, + Eager and restless, oh! beautiful Sea! + + The clouds disperse, and like glory breaking + In fancy's eyes o'er a poet's dream, + Clad in the sunlight the waters glisten, + And dazzling bright in the radiance gleam. + Far and wide o'er the scene of grandeur + My glad eyes wander, my heart beats high; + Lost in a maze of light and wonder, + I faint in a dream of ecstasy; + And the spirit of beauty thou seem'st to me + In that flood of glory, oh! changing Sea! + + Yet best I love when the mystic gloaming + Grows dim, and the crimson sunset dies; + For I dream that your mighty tones are changing, + And in psalms of praise through the shadows rise. + Oh! Nature's organ! Methinks thy numbers + Keep time with the songs of Cherubim, + While through hidden caves come the echoes swelling + Their chorus grand to the ocean hymn; + And my soul, adorning, ascends with thee, + In deep thanksgiving, oh! wondrous Sea! + + + + + A FAREWELL SONG. + + + Oh! sometimes when our hearts are gay, + And Pleasure round us smiles, + Too soon the hours may pass away + That rosy Mirth beguiles; + And we may feel a tinge of pain + Amid the festal cheer, + And pause to ask, "When, when again, + Shall all be gathered here?" + + But ah! the future's dusky veil + Hides coming years from view; + And still our yearning eyes must fail + To pierce its darkness through. + But Memory can hold the past + That we have loved so well; + And, like a halo round it cast, + Affection's light may dwell. + + And thus, my friends, though call'd away + To join another scene, + My thoughts shall often backward stray + To all that once has been. + And bygone hours shall come again-- + The cherished times and dear. + And bring the moments in their train + When I was with you here. + + And as sweet flowers, tho' sere and dead, + Can by their fragrance bring + Remembrance of the days long fled + Again on Memory's wing. + So many a kindly smile I'll mourn + With deep and fond regret; + For though I never may return, + I never can forget. + + + + + SOLITUDE. + + + "Solitude delighteth well to feed on many thoughts; + There, as thou sittest peaceful, communing with Fancy, + The precious poetry of life shall gild its leaden cares" + --TUPPER + + + Come, Solitude! best soother of my mind-- + The sole companion of my happiest hours; + The spell, all potent, of thy gentle powers + Here in this lovely spot, I come to find. + + Below yon mountains, in the sunset beams, + Lough Neagh's glassy waters widely spread; + And through the distance, like a shining thread, + The "Silver Bann" along the valley gleams. + + Lough Neagh! often in the evening light + I've watched the golden sunset kiss thy breast, + Then, as it died on many a wavelet's crest, + Homeward, unwilling, turned, with fond "Goodnight." + + The bare trees in the planting moan and sigh; + I've watched their leaves from buds, till they had grown + To vernal beauty. Withered now and strewn + Upon the walks, all sere and dead they lie. + + And in the Spring, when the young leaves came first, + Here, often in my lone imaginings, + What golden dreams I knew of glorious things; + Visions my willing mind too fondly nurse. + + Visions that, like the leaves, to beauty grew, + Gladdening my heart thro' sunny summer hours; + Clad in bright garlands, woven from Fancy's bowers + Radiant with Hope's fair light of mellow hue. + + And are they withered too? All those swept dreams + That I had hoped in future years to see + Around me bloom, in living, grand reality; + No longer far-off things, or misty, meteor gleams. + + Some like these leaves, have fallen by the way, + Never again in spring to wake to birth; + While some are mine e'en now, whose priceless worth + Shall bloom and ripen, knowing no decay! + + Round me the shadows deepen; and I see + My dead dreams in a phantom band draw near. + And dim Æolian strains fall on my ear, + like some wild mystic requiem's fitful melody! + + Oh! Solitude! thou canst alone restore + The buried bygone, till the haunted isles + Of memory's chambers shine in moonlight smiles + Shadows of sunlight from the days of yore. + + Oh! Solitude! come often for my guest! + Still, when I meet thee in sequestered glade, + I feel thy presence lasting peace has made; + Of life's sweet things, I hold thee first and best! + + + + + WITH A WHITE ROSE. + + + Long ago, in ages olden, + When our world was new; + When old Time was young and golden, + When men's hearts were true; + Fairer flowers than now are growing + Blossom'd everywhere-- + Beauty to the earth bestowing, + Sweetness to the air! + + Well men loved them, fondly dreaming + They were not of earth; + In their glorious beauty seeming + Of a higher birth. + And in those Elysian bowers, + In the days of old, + Speaking all their thoughts in flowers, + Thus their love they told:-- + + One alone, of purest whiteness, + Of them all was queen; + Sweeter than their hues of brightness + Was its snowy sheen. + + If this flower as pledge were given + By true hearts in love, + Though on earth by sad doubts driven, + Yet their life above + Would be one in joy unending, + Undivided there, + Soul with soul in glory blending + In that kingdom fair. + + This the legend I have told thee + Of the flower I send. + Oh, may its sweet leaves unfold thee + Hope, with such an end! + + + + + "THE EXILE'S REVERIE." + + + It is sweet to dream of the vanished times, in this changing + land of ours, + When we touch the hidden spring of thought, with the wand of + mystic powers, + That Remembrance yields to our yearning hearts, that are + lonely left, and pine + For the loves once ours, till shadowy forms come round us, + and flit and shine. + + Through the gloom that wraps the earth-tired soul, that + drifts on life's sea apart, + Missing the clasp of a kindred hand, or thrill of heart to + heart. + Alone! alone! on the wide, wide world, where hope can console + no more; + Alone! alone! on the friendless waste, strange, on a stranger + shore. + + Oft times when the gloaming gathers round, and the night wind + moans on the hill + Like a ghostly voice from the buried dead, when all around is + still, + In the midnight darkness and silence, I call through the mist + and maze, + To the sunny joys of the glad, bright dream, of the golden, + bygone days. + + Then the poem of the wakened long-ago, to the music of memory + flows, + Now filled as with bridal gladness, now wailing out dirge- + like woes; + Through sunshine and summer glories, through brightness and + fragrant blooms, + Through howling storms, 'neath winter skies, through weeping + and murky glooms. + + And then, when the weird strain ceases, and the fitful music + is done, + The pictures I love to gaze on, rise slowly, one by one + Through the mist of the past slow coming, they give to our + eyes once more, + What Death has stolen from me, and Death can alone restore. + + Again, as in early childhood, I feel the fond caress + Of my mother's lips, or I hear the tones of my father's voice + that bless + His child in its gleeful gambols; Oh! happy and peaceful + hours! + Ye come in visions of golden noons, and sunshine, and shady + bowers! + + And the low-breathed prayer when the sunset glow'd crimson in + the West, + And the sweet "Good-night," and the tender kiss, ere I sank + to tranquil rest; + Mother! that prayer still haunts me, adown the dreary years, + And the earnest tones of thy gentle voice, can steep my soul + in tears. + + My brothers! faithful hearted! strong in your love, and true; + Oh! breaking heart, do you mock me? Can _they_ have + perished too? + In their morning time, when they shared my dreams of a Crown + and a Life-fight won, + Thank God, it was their's so early, when my fight had but + begun! + + Oh, darling, best-beloved! keen now is the aching smart, + As when Death's chill touch on our clasped hands fell, when + he breathed the hard word "part," + Only for earth's short span, my sweet, for love can never + die, + And the spirit bond but strengthens, as Time's wild waves + sweep bye. + + Mine! by the vows soft-whispered, where hand in hand we + strayed + In twilight hours, through summer lanes, or roamed in the + lonely glade; + But the dream in its glory perished, and earth's brightest + hope was fled, + And light from my life was faded, when they laid thee with + the dead! + + Elsie! my bright-haired sister! tender blossom and pure! + You drooped in that last storm's fury, too fragile its might + to endure; + And then I left the home-nest when my last sweet dove had + flown, + And sought to forget, amid stranger scenes, the sorrows my + soul had known. + + It's thus the shadowy phantoms come back from the spirit- + shore, + + When I cry in my lonely anguish for the joys now mine no + more. + I thrill with a passion'd yearning for the fuller life to be, + When my tired soul faints in wonder, lost in earth's + mystery! + + + + + CHURCH ISLAND, COUNTY DERRY. + + + "Oh, search with mother-love the gifts + Our land can boast; + Fair Erna's isles--Neagh's wooded slopes-- + Green Antrim's coast."--MACCARTHY. + + In peerless beauty, flushing, glowing, + O'er broad Lutigh Neagh's breast, + The sunset banner hovers, throwing + Its glory over the West. + And varied banks of glen and wood, + That smile round Neagh's smiling flood, + In this sweet hour seem fitting theme + For Poet's song or artist's dream. + + Round the horizon, sternly frowning, + The mountains like a barrier rise, + The purple range, Slieve Gallion crowning, + Towers grimly to the western skies. + Northward Losgh Beg's bright waters play + Round the Church Isle, where, lone and grey. + The ruined pile with ivied walls + To present days the past recalls. + + On many a grave the sunset gleams, + Where calmly rest the sleeping dead-- + Tired mortals, done with mortal dreams + In other life, whetted they have fled. + E'en now they live! Oh! if tonight + One soul might earthward take its flight, + In awful tones methinks t'would say-- + "Prepare for death, oh child of clay!" + + Oh, time-worn walls! full many a word + Ye echoed in the Sabbath calm; + Love, warning, blessing, oft ye heard, + And solemn prayer, and chanted psalm; + And funeral dirge, as wild and high' + Rose on the gale the _caione_-cry, + Borne far and wide, o'er fern and brake, + As passed the cortege o'er the lake. + + And legends of the days gone by + Tell that if, when a funeral train + Passed there, dark clouds swept over the sky, + And howled the wind and sobbed the rain, + Such storm was still an omen blest, + And told the spirit's happy rest. + If all were calm--then woe the dead! + Sad rose their wailing, weird and dread! + + And that before a chieftain's death, + On moonless nights, by lightning shown, + How oft they saw the water-wraith, + And heard the weeping banshee's groan. + How many a barque, at midnight toss'd + And in the angry waters lost, + In the gray dawn-light seemed to glide + In phantom-beauty o'er the tide. + + But ah! the past and all its lore + Is fading from our hearts away, + And memories of the times of yore + Are all forgotten in to day! + And now, 'tis but by peasants old + These cherished legends can be told; + For Erin's harp is mute and still, + Its mystic notes no heart can thrill! + + Once minstrel hearts awoke its strain, + And swept its chords with master-hand; + But who can wake these lays again + In songs of love and fatherland? + Oh! when again shall such as they + Wake passion'd song and warrior's lay? + Till Erin's vales once more resound + With harp-notes long in silence bound! + + + + + LIVINGSTONE. + + + At last thou art resting; thy life-work is ended-- + Thy life-work so nobly and faithfully done; + And thy name, with the names of the mightiest blended, + Shall be honored and loved as the ages roll on! + + Far away in the wilds, as thy life-scene closed slowly, + How thy soul must have pined for one home-voice to cheer; + But the God, ever kind, of the high and the lowly, + With blessings and strength to thy spirit was near! + + How sweet to thy tired soul that glorious light breaking + In beauty untold o'er the land of the blest, + As thou heard'st, in the hour of that wond'rous awaking-- + "Well done, faithful servant, now enter thy rest!" + + Great Britain's Columbus--her son and our glory! + Her true hearts with love shall beat high at thy name; + Thou shalt stand 'mong the first in our country's proud + story, + And be graven with fire on the Temple of Fame! + + Oh! that some minstrel soul, from the days long departed + Would awake, a meet requiem o'er thee to sing-- + And tell of thy brave deeds--the high, lion-hearted-- + Till the listening nations their homage would bring! + + + + + A DREAM AT SUNRISE. + + + Sapphire and rosy brightness in the East; + Fresh, light-winged zephyrs o'er the hilltops stray + And through the valleys roam, through glens and woods + Waking the leaves and flowers to morning life, + Seeming to tell to all--"The sun is near!" + Slow--brightening now, the rose-light deeper grown + The sapphire flames in wondrous golden maze, + And, all unrivalled, the great King of Day, + In dazzling glory, mounts his regal throne! + + To me a vision down the sunbeams came, + When wrapt in wonder by the beauty-spell, + My soul, entranced, afar from earth did soar, + Unshackled, free, and drank the grandeur of the hour + Brightest and fairest hour of all the day, + When new life thrills the veins as when of old + The morning stars their high thanksgivings raised, + And all the sons of God did shout for joy! + Wondering, I cried, "Oh, Earth is very fair! + I cannot see the shadow of man's fall + On aught around me--sin has left no trace: + Oh! for a bower in such a scene as this, + Where Love and Beauty, blessed by Peace, might dwell!" + + Then round me, on the light wind softly borne, + I heard the numbers of an unseen harp, + And turning, saw an angel near me stand. + He sang of earthly love, and the soft tones + Of his sweet harp were like Aeolian strains + Far breathing o'er some blissful Eden world! + And as I listened, all my holiest dreams + Of harmony, ideal, grand, and high, + Seem'd discord. Then methought I saw, + Upon the morning hills, a bower arise. + Bright flowers of wondrous hues around it bloomed, + All, all of beauty that the heart could dream + Was there; and, lov'lier far than all, + A sweet-eyed maiden, twining rose-wreaths fair! + + Dark clouds arose and dimmed the glowing sky; + The lightnings flashed, and fearful thunder pealed; + And, as they shook the bower, I hid mine eyes, + Fearing to see the beauteous visions fade. + + The fierce storm ceased. I raised mine eyes again, + And saw the wreck of what was once so fair; + The flowers had perished, and the maiden wept-- + Then all the picture melted into air! + + "This shows," the angel said, "what sin has done; + Death and decay must fall on earthly things. + See that you read God's mighty Teacher right-- + The Book of Nature wide before you spread. + 'Twas given for man to look on, love, and learn; + But men have eyes, and will not read its lore-- + Ears, and the God-sent teachings will not hear! + Earth's glories and her brightness all must fade; + Yet, while they linger, still they say, 'Prepare.'" + + + + + "LINES ON VISITING EARLY SCENES." + + + Oh! well-known scenes of childhood's days, + Again ye meet my longing eyes; + And still, as memory backward strays, + A thousand tender visions rise; + Of days when youth's all potent powers + Could trace in light the coming hours, + Of dreams that withered with the flowers + That round my pathway sprung! + + When fond Belief, unchill'd by Time, + Built airy castles, high and grand; + When fickle Fancy's dreams sublime + Made Earth appear a fairyland! + Yon school-house seems the same to day-- + Each well-remembered turn and way + Are there--yet, ah! how far away + Are childhood's hours from me! + + Still, still the same--the cherished scene, + That ever thro' the varying years, + Deep-graven on my heart has been, + In morns of joy--in nights of tears. + And oft in darksome times of pain, + When hope seem'd dead, and comfort vain, + Ye shone upon life's desert plain + A friendly light, and true. + + And often when the tide of care + Beat strong against my fragile bark-- + When stormy doubt loom'd everywhere, + With nought to light the gloomy dark-- + The faith I knew in early days, + Ere yet I trod the world's hard ways, + Led gently through the 'wildering maze, + And whispered words of peace! + + Sweet peace, amid the din and strife + And holy thoughts and calm repose; + The promise of a better life-- + The joy that from _believing_ flows! + As when amid these scenes I'd stray, + And dream through all the golden day + Of coming years, in bright array, + Till earth would seem a heaven! + + The Hand that led Youth's steps aright, + The Love that blessed its careless hours-- + Shall they not strengthen for the fight, + Then wreathe the Victor's brow with flowers? + Yes! and ere from these scenes I go, + I've learned what all must come to know-- + Earth's wisdom is but empty show-- + "The child shall teach the man!" + + + + + IDOL WORSHIP. + + + Idol worship in these later ages, + When the light of learning shines so clear, + Golden sayings graved on million pages-- + Wisdom's voices sounding far and near. + + Idol worship, subtle and deceiving, + Lives mis-spent and talents thrown away; + Grim remorse, and after years of grieving-- + Skeletons that haunt us night and day. + + Idols have we manifold in number-- + Idols worshipped both in age and youth; + Visions that beguile life's fitful slumber, + Soul-destroying, blinding us to truth. + + All unreal dreams that fade and perish, + Painted idols, rich in gilded shrines-- + Airy phantoms that we blindly cherish, + Clad in borrowed tints from Fancy's mines. + + All the shining, glittering, worthless splendour-- + All the brilliance of the earthly toy + That we deck with careful hands and tender, + Is not gold, but dross and foul alloy. + + Earth-born idols, lovely but in seeming, + Flitting round us in the moonlight hours + On Love's holy shrine we place them dreaming, + "Though all else may leave us, _this_ is ours!" + + Oh! like meteor-flashings gleaming only + Through the far-off vapours, dense and dark, + Disappearing, leaves, misled and lonely + 'Mid the angry waves, the storm-beat bark. + + So our earthly idols, vain, deceiving, + Come with promise fair for future years; + Fill us with false hopes, forsake us, leaving + Nought but memory's torture, gloom and tears. + + Oh! may we, their many tempting scorning + From earth's sceptres lift our yearning sigh + To fadeless flowers the heavenly hills adorning + That shall be ours when we have gained the high. + + Not the joy whose end is gloom and sadness-- + Withering flowers that deck the earthly sod + Patience hath her crown--eternal gladness-- + By the living "hid with Christ in God." + + + + + IN WINTER DAYS. + + + Spring, and Summer-time, and Autumn + Now are flown- + Dreamy noontides--mellow sunsets-- + Balmy twilights--all are gone! + + Hope's bright visions, carmine-tinted, + Where are they? + Dreams that mocked us in the sunlight + Now in Winter pass'd away. + + Joy shall reign when Spring returning + Wakes the flowers + That the tender Earth has guarded + Safely thro' the Winter hours; + + But the sad winds round me sighing + Seem to sing + She hath treasures in her bosom + That she cannot yield in Spring! + + And I weep in yearning sadness, + Worse than vain, + For the vanished joys that Summer + Ne'er can bring to me again! + + + + + PARTED. + + + Slow lingering months with swifter pace move on-- + Let this dark winter of my life be past; + This cloud athwart the sky of summer thrown-- + Whose gloom and darkness on my heart is cast. + + Parted--Death's deep, dark river rolls between; + Those talks and rambled when the day was done + And now among the things that once have been, + And I am left in sadness here alone! + + Parted! Oh, me, he is for ever gone! + How hopeless _now_ the sunset's golden ray; + How far off seem those joys we both have known, + How cheerless look the paths we used to stray! + + Just when the autumn days grew short and chill, + When all its sunny hours seemed past and o'er, + And moaning winds swept wildly o'er the hill, + Like some sere leaf he fell, to rise no more. + + The spring shall come, and leaves grow green again, + And vernal beauty to the earth return; + Sunshine and flowers shall deck the hill and plane, + And birds awake with song to greet the morn. + + But he has flown far from our wintry sphere, + Where fadeless summer glads the spring-bright clime; + Not where the tempest clouds spread grief and fear, + But safely moored beyond the waves of time! + + Mine is the weeping--his the blissful change; + Mine is the waiting--his the sighed-for peace; + Mine through these dreary, lingering years to range, + until I find a land where partings cease. + + + + + RETROSPECTIVE. + + + I'm free from the city's noises now, + And the city cares that bound me; + I chase their shadows off my brow, + 'Mid the rural scenes around me. + + And alone in the shadowy evening light, + In the deepening gloom and sadness, + I roam the paths of past delight + Of youth's wild dream of gladness. + + I see the panorama vast + That to these eyes is giving + The joyous scenes of that dead past + Still in my bosom living. + + I call those thoughts and memories back + That stern-faced Toil has banished, + And wander o'er the beaten track + Of happy days long vanished. + + The friends of youth for whom I sigh-- + The true and tender-hearted; + The happiness of days gone by, + The pleasures long departed: + + I see them all again to-night, + They seem to come and linger + Like pictures traced in truest light + By Memory's artist finger. + + Those happy times, to me how dear! + Well loved, yet lost for ever; + Those forms that I can fancy near, + Can they return? Ah, never! + + Grim Time's dark shadow of decay + Falls on our hopes when brightest; + A cloud may dim our sky of May + When happy hearts beat lightest. + + When golden sunbeams softly fall + In light on shrub and flower, + E'en then a storm to blight them all + May in the distance lour! + + But still when evening's shadowy light + Steals round in gloom and sadness, + I'll feel a thrill of old delight, + Of youth's wild dream of gladness! + + + + + DUNLUCE. + + + In concert grand the tuneful waves + Break wildly on the foam-girt shore, + And through a thousand secret caves + The shrill wind-voices loudly roar. + Now are the harps of the Ocean waking, + 'Mid the howling winds and the billows breaking! + + The mermaid leaves her ocean home + To sing her love-songs, soft and tender; + The moonlight gilds the breaker's foam, + And bathes the sea in silvery splendour; + And the splashing spray on the White Rocks falling + Sounds like lonely voices of Ocean calling. + + Oh, lone Dunluce! looking o'er the sea, + With tower and keep so grim and hoary, + Do the waves' wild revels recall to thee + The days of your long-departed glory-- + When the wan, weird moonlight is round thee streaming, + With the stars' pale light on your gray walls beaming? + + Oh, stern old relic of bygone ages! + Oh, stout old scorner of Time's rude hand! + Your name shall live in our history's pages + While a poet sings in our native land; + And your fame shall be heard in old Erin's story + When we tell of the days of her vanished glory. + + Ah! many a tale not in history's keeping, + Of lordly chieftain and lady fair, + in the gloom of Oblivion now are sleeping, + And can never be told in the twilight there; + Who repose unremembered in graves unknown, + Where the storms of past ages have o'er them blown. + + I can almost fancy the winds are singing + Those stories forgotten by all but thee, + And the rolling waves in their turn are bringing + Back mem'ries of olden chivalry; + Wild minstrels around thee in darkness stealing + The scenes of the long ago revealing + + I hear in the distance their harp-notes swelling + In a dirge-like wail o'er the moaning sea, + And I think that their mournful strains are telling + A thousand tales of the past to me. + The echoing caves to their songs replying, + As each fitful sound on the gale is dying. + + Wild minstrels of Nature, whose poet-fire + Rings out through her solitudes, wild and grand. + Let your spirit rest on my feeble lyre, + And I'll chain it there with a willing hand. + And when Night hangs her myriad star-lamps shine + Let me blend her notes with your wondrous chord. + + + + + THOUGHTS AT EVENTIDE. + + + "I hold it true, with one who sings + To one clear lute of divers tunes. + That men may rise on stepping-stones + Of their dead selves to higher things."--TENNYSON + + Lo! the sunset fire is burning in the roseate sky of evening + Where grand in dying glory sinks the god of day to rest + And wide o'er the dewy meadows lie the golden lights and + shadows, + Like gleams that come to cheer us from the regions the + blest! + Slow the fiery orb is sinking down below the purple + mountains; + Still the splendour of his radiance lingers round us for a + while; + And the peaceful country bowers, and the stately run towers, + Are rejoicing in the beauty of the glad, refulgent smiles. + + From the trees and from the meadows the bird-song wild and + tender, + In sweet and mingled chorus, like vesper songs, arise + With the evening zephyrs blending, on their airy wings + ascending, + Like anthems of thanksgiving they are ringing thro' the + skies. + + The children's happy voices from the village playground + stealing, + With the cadence of their laughter, come floating through + the air; + And the face of Nature smiling, every thought of care + beguiling, + Soothes my restless soul to musing in the twilight calm and + fair,-- + + Keeps my soul in peaceful musing, 'mid the tranquil summer + gloaming, + When the cares of day are ended, and its labours all are + done; + When the Dove of Peace is stealing o'er the valleys, bringing + healing + On her white wings to the weary, with the rest that they + have won. + + Here let me sit and ponder on life's long and varied story, + On the things that are, and have been, and the times that + are to be; + Of the past and of the present, of the darksome days and + pleasant, + And the future years, still hidden, that are kept in store + for me. + + But, the past--should I deplore it? All my longing can't + restore it; + Still it lies beyond my reaching, to come back to me no + more; + It is right to keep and cherish, or to let its memory perish, + Like a dream to be forgotten, when the hours of sleep are + o'er? + + Like a dream to be forgotten, like a phantom, a delusion + That but lured away our moments with its subtle, witching + powers, + Till it sinks our souls in sadness with the dreams of + gladness, + And the thoughts of vanished pleasures that can ne'er again + be ours. + + Let me cease this idle longing for the days that have + departed, + It is worse than useless wishing for a light grown dim and + dead: + For joy so lovely seeming, when we clasp them in our + dreaming, + And know we must awaken and remember all is fled. + + Let past failures be our beacon through the breakers spread + around us, + To show where danger meets us on life's rough and troubled + main-- + Where earth's joys like billows meeting, on the rock's care + are beating, + And we see them dashed and shattered where they can not + rise again. + + Let me wake, and cease repining; let me learn life's sternest + lesson-- + Joys when born of earth are earthy, and must therefore fade + and die; + Let me feel new knowledge glowing, on my opening eye + bestowing + The experience that will lead me to a fairer, by-and-by. + + 'Tis our past has made our present, so our present makes our + future, + Let us work, and cease of wishing--let us _do_, not + _dream_ through life; + Ever mindful, never straying, with our earnest hearts still + praying + For the guerdon of the worker, and the winner in the + strife. + + + + + LIFE. + + + Life is a day. In its morning bright + We frolic and scamper, free and light. + 'Tis a happy path that we have to run, + The way is pleasant when new-begun. + The sky of our youth is clear and blue, + With no clouds to impede our raptured view; + There's a prize to win in its golden hours-- + Let us work with zeal, and that prize is ours. + There's a laurel crown for the victor's brow, + And a time to win it--that time is now! + Now, when our hearts are young and gay, + Ere the light of our morning fades away. + It is hard to work 'neath the noon-day sun, + But the rest shall be sweet when the work is done; + It is hard to struggle and fight alone, + But the prize we win shall be all our own. + + The noontide fades, and the evening grey + Overtakes us soon on our weary way; + But our day of working will soon be o'er, + And the rest is nearer us than before. + + Life is a night, to watch and pray + For the coming dawn of a brighter day; + But our lamps are trimmed--we have nought to fear, + The darkness is fleeting--the dawn is near. + + And now we see through a darkened glass + The shadowy scenes of the future pass; + But then, in a morn of unclouded light, + It shall break in glory upon our sight. + The Master shall come when the night is o'er, + And bid us to work and watch no more; + He shall tell His servants their work is done, + And bestow the crown they have nobly won! + + + + + A SUMMER SONG. + + + The summer flowers in regal bloom + Make field and garden fair, + Their fragrance in the dreamy noon + Perfumes the balmy air; + The river murmurs through the vale + Upon its sea-bound way, + And o'er the pleasant hill and dale + The birds sing blythe and gay,-- + And river, flowers, and birds to me + Are ever bringing thoughts of Thee! + + The woods at eve are cool and lone; + And when I linger there, + There's something in the wind's soft moan + That whispers Thou art near. + My thoughts by Fancy's chains are bound + As by a magic spell, + And strange, sweet visions wrap me round + While in the lonely dell,-- + And rustling leaves and murmuring streams + To me are bringing sweetest dreams. + + The sunset saddens in the West, + The stars peep through the skies; + The weary day is hush'd to rest + By gentlest zephyr sighs; + The wavelets break upon the shore. + The moon shines o'er the sea, + The sandy beech I wander o'er + Alone to dream of Thee,-- + And stars, and sky, and moonlit sea, + All, all are bringing thoughts of Thee! + + + + + EVENING. + + + Red shines the sunset in the evening sky, + And paints the cloud-ranks in rich crimson glow, + Till every varying tint in rival splendour burns, + And earth and ocean catch the gleam, and smile + In new-born glory for a time, and then, + As the enraptured gaze absorbs the scene, + It fades, and, growing dim and dimmer, dies. + It is a glimpse from worlds unseen--a light from the + Invisible, + Foreshadowing things the brighter yet to be. + A soft wind-whisper wanders thro' the boughs, + And wakes a thousand harps in forest lands, + That all the sultry day were hushed, till now, + When the fair twilight spreads her dreamy spell: + They wake to melody so softly sweet that one might think + An angel's wing had stirr'd the varied leaves. + And swept the woodlands with ethereal song. + Now the great sea, with all its restless waves, + Seems calmer grown, as forth the stars appear, + And smile upon us from the silent skies, + Where nightly, looking down the azure depths, + Like guardian angels o'er a sinning world, + In their grand, silent eloquence, they show + The marvels of their great Creator's power. + This is the time when dreams will come, and bring + Days which have fled, and we would fain recall. + A shadow thrown across the moonlit walk-- + A breeze that, sighing, lifts the woodbine leaves, and strays + In through the open lattice, may restore + The scenes that long in memory have slept. + Ah, me! stern Time can take out youth away-- + Whiten our hair and mark our brows with age; + But Memory, kind Memory, that holds the past, + He cannot claim. Remembrance still is ours, + And we may grasp her magic wand and touch + The secret spring that hides our bygone years. + The murmur of a brook that flowing glides + Between its violet banks, can call a sigh + From that far time when we could roam at eve. + To hear the birds that sang the sunset down, + With wild, glad vesper-songs by Nature taught. + The earnest face and tender eyes, that beamed + With a whole world of deep, undying love, + Rises again before my tear-dimm'd sight. + Then came a time when, with slow steps, and voices low and + sad, + They laid _her_ down to rest. Then life grew dark, + And all that I had left on earth to love + Was but a grave, beneath the churchyard trees, + Where I could sit for dreary hours and weep. + Years fly apace. The wildest grief grows calm-- + As storm-clouds lowering in the noonday sky, + Seem darkest when they hang above our heads-- + So we most feel the stroke of sorrow when it falls; + But Hope draws near, and, pointing to the Future, whispers- + "Wait:" + Yes, wait awhile; and for a few short years + Struggle, and fight, and bear the burden well. + The sun that sank below the purple hills, + Leaving the earth to darkness and to night, + Shall bring new glory to the morning sky. + Death's night of gloom shall have its morn of bliss, + And we shall find within the golden gates + Our flowers that withered, in eternal bloom! + + + + + TO "W. C. T." + + + Oh, sad one, who wails for thy love that is slighted + Left lone and forsaken, all joy fled away; + Thy day-dream of beauty o'ershadowed and blighted, + Thy sky once so rosy now clouded and gray. + Thine idol was earthly, and earth-like must perish; + The casket was doubtlessly faultless and fair; + But 'tis only the soul-gem the poet can cherish, + And blend with, his dreamings in gladness or care. + + The glory that shone like the East in the morning + On the radiant ideal was sweet to behold; + But, alas! 'twas thy fancy had wrought its adorning, + And without it the real is worthless and cold. + And the poet's high soul ever craves for that beauty + That must be arrayed in the white robe of Truth; + The Love, Heaven-born, that walks hand-clasped with Duty, + That thro' life's changing years keeps the heart in its + youth. + + Then shall Truth at the shrine of the False linger pining + No! Nature rebels, and Hope whispers, Arise! + There are regions unknown in the glad sunlight shining-- + In the paths of thy calling where happiness lies! + Oh, linger not weeping, in gloom and in sadness, + The days that are coming thy healing shall bring; + And a love, brighter far, horn of Truth and of Gladness, + Shall Phoenix-like up from the dead ashes spring! + + + + + SUMMER LONGINGS. + + + There's a sound of woe in the forest lands, + A wailing sigh in the wild wind's breath; + The woods are waving their naked hands + As they mourn fair Summer's death. + + Through the leafless groves in the twilight hours + Come gusts of music that sink and swell, + And I cry, "Come back, with your light and flowers, + Fair Queen of the year that I love so well!" + + Come back to gladden the earth again, + For the woods are grim in their winter woe, + There's a dreary look on the lonely plain, + And the hills and mountains are crowned with snow. + + And I fancy I hear from the distant hills + A blast of wind sweeping o'er the lea, + From the gray old hawthorns and foam-clad rills, + To tell a word of their woe to me. + + Oh, Summer so lovely, lost and dead, + I miss your sunshine and balmy hours, + And blissful calms, when the noontide shed + Its dreamy radiance on fields and flowers! + + I miss your bird-songs that called me up + To welcome the blush of the golden morn, + When the dew-pearls gleamed in the harebell's cup, + And the lark soared high o'er the fields of corn. + + I miss the hush of the quiet eves, + When the gloaming stole through the silent wood, + And the low-toned zephyrs that stirred the leaves + Were like elfin harps in the solitude. + + Oh! Spring, return with your tender buds, + And thousand splendours to deck the earth; + Come back and reign in the grand old woods, + And Winter shall fly at your welcome birth. + + Come back, and wide o'er the hills and vales, + The birds your welcome in glee shall sing; + And their songs shall float on the gentle gales + Till the earth in gladness and joy shall ring! + + + + + MY TREASURES. + + + Yes, I have treasures--not of gold or silver, + Yet they are hoarded with a miser's care; + Cherished and loved more tenderly and fondly + Than purest gems, or jewels rich and rare. + + Only a scrap of paper, old and faded, + Only some withered rose-leaves, sere and dry; + And one long tress of hair, all bright and golden, + Dear relics of the happy days gone by. + + Well I remember that long, dreamy summer, + With all its sunshine and its cloudless days; + The pleasant rambles through the lanes at even, + When earth was glowing in the sunset rays. + + And when the Autumn, in his mellow splendour, + Clothed field and forest in autumnal dyes, + 'Twas sweet to wander in the still, weird twilight, + And watch the moon ascend the eastern skies. + + Oh! blissful hours! ah, vows so softly spoken, + Ye held a subtle witchery for me; + I dreamed a heart of love and trust unbroken + Was mine--and mine alone--through time to be. + + Alas! not mine that blossom that I cherished, + And hoped would bloom through all the coming years; + Death's chill hand fell upon it, and it perished, + And left with me but memory and tears! + + Oh, woods! though Autumn left you bare and leafless, + Spring has returned, and brought you life and mirth; + But the dead dream of youth's bright golden morning + Of love and beauty, can it wake to birth? + + It cannot be; the times that have departed, + The days of gladness, can return no more; + And I am lonely left and broken-hearted, + Like some sad exile on a foreign shore,-- + + Who, gazing backwards, through the years can picture + A time when love and friendship were his own; + Then turning to the present, lone and cheerless, + Finds all his happiness in life is gone. + + So, now, life's evening shadows, grim and dreary, + In deepest gloom, are round my pathway shed; + The beams of hope are growing dim and weary, + And all that once was bright is cold and dead! + + Oh, long-lost love! the gloomy years are fleeting, + Through life's dark dream they ever hurry fast; + Great waves upon the brink of Time they're meeting, + And, mingling, rush to form the shadowy Past! + + + + + THE GIFTED. + + + Say, are the gifted born the sons of woe-- + The favoured ones on whom kind Heaven hath smiled, + And dowered so richly with its priceless store; + The lords of earth, the monarchs of the soil-- + Men who are bless'd with minds that angels have: + Are these to bear the jibe of vulgar tongues, + To feel the taunts fell Envy madly hurls, + Or brook the scorn gaunt Jealousy may show? + To them such things are but the angry blast + That mars the bosom of the placid lake, + Which smiles in dimpling ripples at its wrath! + They _have_ their "world of flower, and song, and gem," + The land of beauty where the poet dwells-- + His green Parnassus where the muses reign: + _Not_ hidden nor unseen; oh! look abroad, + And tell me if thine eye no beauty sees. + The solemn grandeur of the Autumn woods, + Bright-crimsoned with the dying Summer's blood; + The mountains in their hoary splendour drest, + The valleys with their fields of golden grain, + The glens deep hidden, where a thousand flowers + In modest beauty shun the noontide glare; + The wild-birds' song, the murmur of the streams + That through their heathery banks of fragrance glide. + All these are theirs--their solace, their delight; + Each with its charm of mystic beauty fraught; + The gleams that pierce the clouds of common life, + And let the light of Heaven's own sunshine in! + They have their dreams in twilight's shadowy hour, + When they can strike their golden lyre, and feel + The holy joy the poet calls his own. + And the soft breeze that sings among the boughs + In numbers like the famed Æolian harp + Seems blending with its tones, till earthly cares + Melt, as beneath the syren's spell, and die! + + Thus lightly o'er the waves his bark goes on, + Hope for a beacon shining bright above. + While firmly at the helm stands fair Content + To steer him safely till he reach the shore. + And then, when Death's grim portals open wide, + And he has reached the Land he dreamed and sung, + Oh! bliss to wander o'er the streets of gold, + _His_ harp-notes mingling with the choirs of Heaven! + His hopes all realized, "faith lost in sight"-- + His life a poem which God Himself hath read! + + + + + MORNING. + + + The gladsome Morning looked across the hills, + Clad in his richly tinted robes; the opal dawn, + Faint blushing in the East, grew clear and brighter, + Till the resplendent sunrise decked the sky. + It shone upon the woods--the birds awoke + To chant their welcome to the god of day. + It shone upon the meadows, and the flowers + Ope'd their eyes, where the bright dew-tears glistened + As they had wept thro' the long hours of night, + Heedless of how the star-beams smiled and played; + And the pale, tender moon, with pitying ray, + Looked down upon their lowly, drooping heads, + Now lifted gladly to the morning light, + Till the warm sunshine kissed their tears away. + And clouds of fragrance from their beds arose, + That amorous zephyrs, as they wandered by, + Wafted, like sweetest incense, to the sky! + It shone upon the rivers, as they flowed + Through fertile meadow-lands, so rich in loveliness; + Sweet streams, that, rippling on in restful song, + Took up a tone more joyous in that hour; + And whispering leaves, and birds that, far and near, + From grove and hedgerow, warbling clear and sweet + In blending music, trembled in the air-- + Like matin hymns, that on Creation's wings + Were upwards borne to the Creator's Throne! + + + + + ANOTHER YEAR. + + + Another year has well nigh passed, + With all its smiles and tears, + And joys and sorrows that are cast + In Time's great stream, whose waters vast + Roll to the ocean of the Past, + Bearing our hopes and fears, + Where 'neath its waves they mingle fast + With all our vanished years. + + Another year! a span of Time, + That tells of lifework done; + A book, some pages dark with crime-- + Some grand, and holy, and sublime; + A trumpet, telling every clime + Of battles lost and won: + A knell of woe--a joy-bell's chime, + Hope dead, and bliss begun! + + Another year! In Spring's sweet hours + What blissful thoughts we knew! + What hopes, that came with opening flowers, + What visions, nurse in spring-wreathed bowers, + When Fancy lent her magic powers + To trace in brilliant hue + Castles of air, and dream-built towers + Too soon to fade from view! + + Another year! and I can trace + Footprints o'er Summer's way, + But turn to find a vacant place, + Where once I met a cherished face, + And well-loved form of youth and grace, + Now pass'd from earth away-- + This year the goal of one bright race, + The close of one fair day. + + Autumn is dead. The year is old, + The dull November days are chill; + The bare woods dreary to behold; + The northern blast blows keen and cold, + Far sighing over waste and world, + O'er wintry vale and hill; + And in its moan are requiems told + For true hearts dead and still! + + So must it be. Each passing year + Still bears some joy away; + Some darling treasure, held too dear, + In trembling bliss, in hope and fear, + Which we would fancy safe and near, + Departs, and seems to say-- + "We have no lasting city here, + Earth's life is but a day!" + + But Christmas, coming round again, + Shall bring his wonted cheer; + And Pleasure, in his jovial train, + With rosy mirth and glee shall reign, + To chase these thoughts of gloom and pain + That haunt the dying year; + And grief-parched lips the cup shall drain + Of "Peace and good-will here!" + + + + + WITH A SHAMROCK. + + + Here, in these triple leaves, oh! read from me, + What I, for _thee_, have dreamed their mystic spell, + Faith, Hope and Love, joined hand in hand, I see, + And this the message that they seem to tell:-- + + Love, for the present, and the time to he, + Faith, that its might and truth can never die; + Hope, that beyond the future clouds and mystery + Points to a smiling scene, and cloudless sky. + + + + + "WAITING FOR THE MAY," + + + "Ah! my heart is weary waiting, waiting for the May!" + Old thoughts come back from the old time, + Where, at even, the sunset light + Gilds wood and world, ere the glory dies, + And darkness gathers along the skies + And the world is left in night. + + Old songs float round in the gloaming, + Sweet fragments that come and go; + They are echoes, I know, from the olden times, + Holy, as music vesper chimes, + In the days of "Long Ago!" + + And faces shine in the firelight; + And laughter rings through the rooms; + And memories of bygone springtime eves + Come back to my lone heart that aches and grieves + In the chill of life's winter glooms, + + Then, the May of love that I longed-for + Was hid in the future haze; + I dreamed it a land of joy unknown, + Where bliss and beauty would be my own + Through the length of life's fair days. + + So in hope for the May I waited + As gay as the joyous hours + That sped so fast, on their lightsome wings + Thro' flowers, and sunlight, and glorious things + That lived in youth's fairy bowers; + + But the hopes I nursed in that springtime-- + Ah! me, but those times were bright! + Are withered now, and no fruit I see, + Though the blossoms were fair on every tree + In the glow of their promise-light! + + Yet, when by the grave where I buried + Those hopes, I stand and weep, + I hear Faith say, as the storm-winds blow,-- + "If in patience, and sorrow, and tears ye sow, + The guerdon of joy ye shall reap!" + + + + + AWAKENED. + + + The glories of fair April's pride + Are smiling round on every hand, + And springtide beauties, far and wide, + As with a garment clothe the land. + + In shady nooks, in lonely glades, + In forest alleys wild flowers spring, + In budding stalls, in twilight shades, + In lonely woods the birdies sing. + + The violet's bloom on many a bank + Is mirror'd in the waters sheen; + And 'mong the grasses long and rank + The yellow primrose flower is seen. + + In yon dim wood the trestle sings + 'Mong boughs that clasp hands overhead, + And through the air his glad song rings, + As in that April long since dead. + + The brook has still the same soft flow, + Whose murmur filled the evening air + In those old days of long ago, + Though I may never wander there. + + I shut my eyes, and see no more + The hurrying throng of city ways + And call to life that dream of yore, + And feel the thrall of bygone days. + + The passion'd yearning for the time, + The glorious time that was to be, + The restless young heart's dreams sublime, + Of all the future held for me. + + Ah! fair the blossoms Hope's tree bore! + I dreamed of Autumn's golden grain-- + Oh! fatal blooms! ye brought a store + Of deep remorse, of life-long pain! + + Oh! dream of youth, I see you now + With calmer eyes, and world-taught mind, + And know these care-lines on my brow + My waking hour has left behind. + + All false the glow that round you shone, + Though fair as Fancy's dream-land light:-- + With all your rainbow decking gone + I view your naked wreck to-night. + + I look and bless the sudden blast + That tore my idol from its throne; + And bless the keen pain of the past-- + If pain for error could atone. + + False love! bereft of all your wiles + Dead dream whose sweetness all is o'er, + The memories of your tears or smiles + Can touch my wakened heart no more. + + I lay you in your grave to-night + And seal the stone without a sigh, + Rejoicing that your gloom and blight + No more can cloud my brightening sky. + + + + + "ONLY." + + + Only relics, yet precious and pure + Are the dreams of the days of old, + Though they tell of wounds that no charm can cure, + And of bright hopes, dead and cold. + Only visions of forest ways, + Only thoughts of happier days, + Only the glow of Life's sunrise haze + When the morning sun was shining. + + Only, it may be, a lock of hair, + Or a flower sere and dry; + Only a pictured face, how fair + In the light of the times gone by! + Only a sigh for what may not be, + Only a yearning wish to see + The light beyond the mystery + That for weary souls is shining. + + Only thoughts of the gladsome time + When the world of youth was bright; + Only memories of joys sublime-- + The gleams of youth's fairy light, + Only sweet flashes that come and go, + Only the thrall that sets heart aglow, + Only the spells we were wont to know + When Fancy's rays were shining. + + Only voices we hear no more, + But the echoes haunt our ears; + Only dreams that are past and o'er + That we mourn through the lonely years + Only to find that the sunny gleam + Of earth's love fades like a passing dream, + Only to wait for that deathless beam + That "beyond the tide" is shining. + + Only the clasp of a parting hand + On the silent rivers' shore, + As the dear one sails for the unseen Land + And we see his face no more,-- + Only to gaze o'er the waters drear, + Only to wait till the call we hear, + "Come over now, for rest is near + Where the true life light is shining." + + Only the burden all must bear, + Only earth's weight of woe; + Only to learn from each dreary care + The patience the pure must know. + Only this:--but what welcomes wait + To hail us home at the pearly gate; + Only to toil until night is late + And awake where the Morn is shining. + + + + + FIRST PSALM. + + + How blessed are they who turn their steps + From paths the wicked choose, + Who stand not in the sinners ways, + And scorners' seats refuse. + + Who take their solace and delight + In meditation pure-- + The law of God--its depth and height, + Its wisdom, might, and power. + + They, like the trees on verdant banks + Whereby sweet rivers flow, + Shall bring forth fruit, and fadeless leaves, + And prosperously grow. + + But such is not the sinners' end-- + Like the light chaff are they, + Which when the softest winds arise, + Are quickly swept away. + + They shall not in the judgment stand, + Nor sinners, scorning grace + Be in the congregation found + Where righteous men find place. + + The Lord himself the righteous knows-- + He marks them from their birth, + But godless ways of sinful men + Shall perish from the earth. + + + + + HER NAME. + + + The purple heather on the brae + Was all abloom; by glen and weld + The wild birds sang the live-long day, + The corn-fields ripened into gold. + + The garden blooms were wonderous fair; + Red roses blushed in regal glow; + Carnations scented all the air, + Pure was the lilies' virgin snow. + + But fairer than the garden flowers, + Or all the summer blooms, wean + Was she, whose smiles beguiled the hours-- + Was she, whose presence charmed the scene. + + Oh! pleasant were the sylvian glades, + Oh! sweet the hush of summer noon; + Roaming 'neath tangled green-wood shades + We deemed _that_ twilight came too soon! + + Our home-ward way lay through the wood, + We lingered by the streamlet's side,-- + False vows were made what time we stood + There, 'neath the elms, that eventide. + + I carved her name upon a tree,-- + A gnarled old ash-tree, gaunt and grey; + "The name may stay," she said to me, + "When I, perchance, am far away!" + + Swiftly the summers come and go, + And life grows stern, and love grows cold; + Dim are the days of long ago-- + Their joys a story long since told. + + But, sometimes, at the close of day, + I dream of that dim wood, and see, + A name upon an ash-tree grey-- + 'Tis all the past has left to me! + + + + + MEMORY. + + + "And other days come back to me + With recollected music."--BYRON. + + How memory's boundless store is fraught + With wonders, mystic and sublime! + Bright gleams, that oft we set at nought; + Sweet messengers from Heaven's own clime. + The wind that stirs the boughs at eve-- + A star that glimmers in the blue + Of nights gemm'd crown, oftimes may wreathe + A halo, strangely sweet and new. + Round hopes and fears we used to know + In life's young morning, long ago. + + The cadence of the sighing waves + That break in song along the shore, + The winds that sigh thro', hidden caves + Are echoes from the days of yore. + The moonlight, stealing o'er the sea, + So calm, above the restless tide, + Is like the light that used to be + In many a by-gone eventide, + As memory comes, and paints each scene, + Of loves and joys that once have been. + + We feel the power, and own the spell, + That bid the lonely spirit stray, + In thought, to where our lost ones dwell, + Now from our paths so far away + We say "'tis dreams that Fancy brings," + And go our way, forgetting still; + But on the winds are angels' wings, + And spirit power, our souls that thrill + With yearning for that life unseen, + Hid far behind this mortal screen. + + For Memory still with subtle art + Unfolds the bygone to our eyes, + And still the lonely, longing heart + Would soar beyond earth's mysteries, + Till wearied grown of useless tears, + And longing for the olden days, + We turn to see the future years + Lie smiling 'neath hope's rosy haze, + And view the past with hopeful love, + Made sure our life is "hid above."-- + + Hid far away from mortal ken,-- + These wonderous gleams that round us stray, + These meteors, 'mong the haunts of men, + These holy thoughts, that day by day, + Shine in their light of Heavenly hue + O'er chequered paths of work and love, + Refreshing as the tender dew, + Are stray-beams from the light above + Men call it Memory, but we know + 'Tis Heaven's warm light on earth's cold snow! + + + TWILIGHT. + + + Twilight's shades are round me creeping, + Nature dons her robe of gray; + Through the blue the stars are peeping, + Sunset's last, faint streaks decay. + + Visions come of bygone hours, + Ere these eyes were dimmed by tears, + Youth's bright scenes unwreathed with flowers + Dimly seen through mist of years. + + Softly through the summer gloaming + Steals this picture of the past; + Through the wood the breeze is roaming + Moon beams round their shadows cast. + + By the murmuring, flowing river, + Sits a maiden waiting there; + Graven on my heart forever + Is that form of beauty rare! + + Vows are plighted, love is given, + Trusting love without alloy, + And the calm, blue, starry heaven + Whispers but of truth and joy! + + By the murmuring, flowing river, + Where the shore the waters lave, + Now the moon beams fall and quiver + On a green and lonely grave! + + Token sad of fond love slighted, + Of a rose cut down in bloom, + Of a fair young blossom blighted + All too lovely for the tomb. + + Softly through the summer gloaming + Sighs the breeze a requiem low, + And my sad heart, ever moaning + Answers to its tones of woe! + + + + + TOLD IN THE TWILIGHT. + + + We left our ink-stained office-desk, + Two, young in years, yet old in care; + We laid aside our world-face mask, + We laid aside our daily task + To breathe the country air. + + We laid aside our musty books, + Grown almost hateful to our eyes; + We longed to roam the country nooks, + We longed to hear the murmuring brooks, + And see the sunny skies. + + We longed to hear the birds again, + Minstrels that through the woodlands stray; + We longed to hear the reaper's strain + Sung in the fields of golden grain + On the bright harvest day. + + Oh! pleasant were the breezy downs! + Oh! fair the lanes and fields; + Far from the weary noise of towns, + We half-forgot grim Care's dark frowns, + 'Mong peace such quiet yields. + + He said, The busy city's street + The path of labour and of woe, + The anxious faces, hurrying feet, + The things that every day I meet, + Are what I hate to know! + + Oh! might I bathe in Lethe's stream, + Forget the happy days gone by, + And know this life a fleeting dream, + And look on every passing scene + As with a stranger's eye. + + To walk along this quiet lane, + To feel this evening calm, + Ah! how it soothes my tired brain + With peace I thought that ne'er again + Would bless me with its balm. + + 'Twas in a lane like this, at even + My life's peace came to me; + A great, sweet joy to me was given, + A pure, true love, whose hope has riven + Earth's gloom and mystery. + + A maiden, lovely as the glow + Of Fancy's soul-land light, + Once vowed to me for weal and woe, + As calm or storm would come or go, + Her love was 'mine by right!' + + Twas Spring-time then, ere Autumn's blast + Sighed with its dreary moan, + To shake the brown leaves falling fast, + Her sweet life-tale was told and past, + And I was left alone! + + 'Twas hard to think that _she_ was dead, + 'Twas hard to bear such pain; + 'Twas hard to feel all brightness fled, + 'Twas hard to count bright days swift sped + That could not come again! + + I sought her grave at eve, alone, + And there before me lay + Her tomb, a lily carved on stone, + Meet emblem of my darling one + So early called away. + + And, 'neath the lily, words so sweet, + In dreams they haunt my rest; + Oft at their sound I turn to weep + 'He giveth His beloved sleep.' + Oh! portion purest, best! + + Sleep to the weary body, worn, + On earth, with pain and care, + To meet the ransomed soul, new-born, + On the Great Resurrection Morn, + In God-like beauty fair. + + There, at her grave, I bade farewell + To all my heart loved best; + I left our home, I could not dwell + "Mong scenes our love had marked so well, + I felt Grief's wild unrest." + + This is my story told to you-- + My holiest dream of life; + The blest home-love that once I knew + When she, so good, so fair, so true, + I called my own--my wife! + + My sunshine faded when she died, + Such joy I might not know; + God called her early from my side, + And when I lost my gentle bride + The world seemed full of woe! + + He knew 'twas best--my stubborn heart + Had need of chastening pain; + To bow beneath the rod's keen smart, + To learn, by grief, the better part, + To feel such loss is gain. + + And now no earthly idol smiles, + No pleasant passions lure; + No fleeting phantom now beguiles + My soul from heaven with tempting wiles, + My hope is fixed and sure. + + She waits for me--the swift year's flight + I count like miser's gold; + I keep the "watches of the night," + I wait until the morning light + Its glories snail unfold. + + + + + SUNSET. + + + A burning flood of glory blazing far along the West, + And clouds on clouds aglowing towering o'er the mountains' + crest + Till the shining, burnished columns and the ranks of crimson + vie + In a living trail of splendour, lighting all the evening sky. + + The grand October sunset burns above the mountains' brow, + Whose grey old heads shine redly, light-kissed and ruddy now; + There the sunshine loves to linger in a parting glow of + light, + Ere Day his throne resigneth to the dusky reign of Night. + + But low and lower sinking, the sun goes down the West + And the dazzling beams are fading along the Ocean's breast + Till, pale and paler growing, the grandeur dies away, + And the wild waves and the breezes seem wailing for the Day! + + For the fair Day, that has vanished--the brightness that is + fled, + And for all the sunny hours that are passed away and dead, + The rosy flush of sunrise, the gladsome time of morn, + And bird-songs sweet, that far and near told when the Day was + born! + + The tranquil hush of noontide, the mellow evening hours + But ah! the Day's departure left desolate the bowers, + And woodland haunts, and flowery dells, and mountain streams + and glades + Are lonely left in deepening gloom, and mystic twilight + shades! + + But through the Night's grim darkness the star-lamps bright + shall burn, + 'Till the lone Earth, cheered and hopeful, shall wait for + Day's return, + And gaze with wistful longing, till the dawn the far East + hills, + And the sun in regal beauty smile o'er the grand old hills. + + Then life and light and brightness shall be her own again, + And in the new-found gladness she'll forget the night of pain + Forget the hours of darkness when deep in gloom she lay, + And her weeping-time of sadness be "as waters that pass + away!" + + Thus, this dreary night of sorrow through which we wander + here + Be only transient darkness the long bright Day is near, + Whose light of peace and glory the ransomed spirit fills, + As it hails the dawn eternal upon the Heavenly Hills! + + + + + "CONSIDER THE LILIES." + + + Not gold nor diamond flash of dazzling brightness, + No costly thing of earth Thou givest for thought; + But these sweet simple flowers, beside whose whiteness + The great king's glory all would seem as nought. + + Thou knewest how soon must fade all earth's poor splendour, + Worthless its wealth to Thine all-seeing eye; + The short-lived glimmer of its pomp and grandeur + Fleeting and transient only born to die. + + Thou would'st not point our love to earth's frail treasure, + But to these lilies, beautiful and pure; + They toil nor spin not, yet their life's full measure + Thou metest, and their day is kept secure. + + Oh, lilies! well I love your snowy pureness! + That once the Master deigned while here to trace, + Pledges of His dear love, whose truth and serene + Are faintly shadowed in your beauty's grace. + + Meek teachers! could I learn that lesson given! + If God so clothe the grass with beauty rare, + Shall He not guide us on our way to heaven, + And guard our pathway till we enter there? + + Oh give me, Lord, a soul of lily whiteness, + Washed in the blood that Thou hast shed for me, + Thy Spirit's light to pierce earth's gloom with brightness + And show the way thro' mist and cloud to Thee + + Give me a heart whose treasure is in heaven, + Not for to-morrow feeling anxious thought; + Even as my day, so shall my strength be given, + And grace sufficient--can I want for aught? + + Oh, give me faith, that on Thy love relying, + From doubt's dark thrall I may be ever free; + And clothe me, Lord, that in the hour of dying, + Thy righteousness, blest robe, may cover me! + + Thus may I walk, by Thee, my Guide, befriended, + 'Joyous with joy that knows no sad decay; + That when earth's sun has set her brief day ended + My morn may break and shine to "perfect day'" + + + + + SONGS OF THE SEA. + + + "My soul is full of longing + For the secret of the sea, + And the heart of the great ocean + Sends a restless pulse through me."--LONGFELLOW + + In the grey light of the morning, ere the sun has lit the sky + When the winds rave loud and wildly, to the angry waters + How the mighty, foaming billows thunder forth, in ceaseless + roar, + Songs majestic, wild with anguish, woeful waitings evermore. + In the dawn light, in the gloaming, beating, breaking, o'er + and o'er, + Telling out the ocean stories, to the wide, encircling shore; + And I listen, till the legends of the past, a shadowy host, + Seem to gather round, and people storied Antrim's rock-bound + coast. + + Where the grandeur of the Causeway smiles in scorn at Art's + weak hand, + Seem the wild waves ever singing of the high schemes Nature + plann'd, + When she hurled the giant columns, by some mighty earthquake + shock, + Till they stand, huge pillar-wonders, by the paved, + mysterious rock; + And the dark caves, weird and frowning, echoing the sea's + wild strife, + Seem to hold some spell unearthly, of the ocean's secret + life. + + Where th'Atlantic rolls sublimely, lashing round Port + Ballintrae, + Language cannot paint the grandeur of the waves, in awful + play! + Beating, breaking, wildly seething, whilst in restless, + fitful roar, + Deep to far-off deep is calling, answering round from shore + to shore. + And the spirit of the ocean seems to fill its heaving breast + With ten thousand prison'd longings, wailing out in wild + unrest. + + Softening down to calmer music, round the White Rocks and the + caves, + With a tender, nameless pathos, softly sing the curling waves + To the battlements and turrets, and the old towers, grim and + hoary. + Where the stern Macquillan chieftains reigned in once + unconquered glory. + There Dunluce, in lonely grandeur, frowns in wild, and + deathless pride, + Sentinel of bygone ages, Time-tried warder by the tide. + + Grey Dunluce, in concert blending, winds, and waves, and + sounding sea, + Seem to sing a dirge of sorrow for the glory fled from thee, + Rolling onward to the Skerries, wailing far in requiem moan + Till they catch the surf's bold thunder round toe rock at + Innishone, + Where the foam-girt shore re-echoes with the burthen of the + song, + And the angry dashing billows wide and far the cry prolong. + + When the moonlight, pale and faintly, gleams on Malin Head's + blue crest, + And its silvery pathway shimmers far across the ocean's + breast; + When the yeasty breakers glisten softly in the shadowy light, + When the rocks seem mystic castles, looming grimly thro' the + night; + Then the solemn songs of Ocean, fraught with precious, new- + found lore + Bring for Fancy unknown treasure, priceless gems for + Thought's great store! + + Grand old Ocean! how my spirit longs to catch thy melody + Do thine heart's great pulses quicken with a secret life, oh, + Sea? + Far adown the blue waves, hidden by the hearings of your + breast, + Is there soul to tune your singing, to its ceaseless, wild + unrest? + Oh! thou dread and wondrous ocean, tell these mystic songs to + me + For their cadence, grand and changeful, haunts my path with + mystery. + + + + + THE MOONLIGHT. + + + Silvery moonlight, clear and bright, + Shining down on our earth to-night, + Soft as the touch of an angels' wing, + Tender, beautiful, holy thing! + + Seeking the glen where the cool waters flow-- + Lighting the bank where the violets grow; + Gilding the crest of the foamy rill; + Falling in silence upon the hill; + Piercing the depths of the forest glade, + Glancing down thro' the leafy shade, + Till the loneliest haunts of the wild wood seem + To rejoice in the light of thy radiant beam! + + Glistening out on the trackless deep, + Where the spirits of ocean their revels keep; + Lighting the path over the billows' foam, + As the mermaid glides from her gem-built home, + And the peri's song o'er the heaving sea + Sounds in fitful, plaintive melody! + + Pouring down on the mountain pass, + Where, tripping light o'er the dewy grass, + The fairies join in their wild, weird dance, + And the mystic forms thro' the moonbeams glance, + While far and wide on the wind is borne + Through answering echoes, the elfin horn. + + Flooding with glory the prairie's breast, + Till, all transformed, in the radiance drest, + The shanty, south of the poplar wood, + Seems a sylvian lodge in the solitude; + And the settler dreams, with a moistened eye, + Of the moonlights and loves of the times gone by. + + Gleaming fair on the city towers + Where the clocks, thro' the night, chime the passing hours, + On the city's heart that no longer beats, + With the ebb and flow of its noisy streets, + And their living pulse-throbs that come and go, + To the smile of joy, and the throb of woe! + + Smiling down from a cloudless sky, + On the village homes, that all peaceful lie; + Where simple hearts, in a happier life, + Know nought of the city's cares and strife,-- + The hardy sons of honest toil, + Pensioners free of their parent soil! + + To hopeful hearts in the morn of youth, + The dream-land of Love, and the type of Truth, + Where the future shows 'neath its veil of light + An Eden of blissful, untold delight + + In the stern, hard struggle of manhood's days + When tired feet stumble o'er life's rough ways, + And in age's twilight of shadowy gloom, + A dream of the rest that is yet to come. + + Shine on, silvery moonlight, shine! + Gladden earth with your beams benign; + On restless ocean, on tranquil lake, + Through forest alleys, by fern and brake; + By quiet village, and crowded town, + By mountain, prairie, and breezy down; + O'er sights of gladness, o'er scenes of woe, + Let the tender light of thy pure beams glow, + And the weary and hopeless shall bless your light. + And the child of joy have more pure delight. + + + + + "GOODNIGHT." + + + "Until the day break, and the shadows flee away." + Cant. 2.17 + + Goodnight, beloved! see the sun descending, + Behind the woodlands of the far, bright West, + And in the glory of the daylights ending, + The "light at eventide" brings dreams of rest. + + Goodnight, beloved! now the grey-eyed gloaming + Glides through the valleys with an unheard tread, + And haunts the woodlands, where the wild winds moaning + Wails o'er the leaves of Autumn, sere and dead. + + Goodnight, beloved! see the pale stars peeping + Through the blue curtain of the shadowy skies;-- + The lamps the angels hold, their night-watch keeping, + O'er souls who wait their call to Paradise! + + Goodnight, beloved! a faint, lingering glory, + Of dying daylight glows in parting smile; + Its last kiss lighting all the hill-tops hoary, + As though the hour with brightness to beguile. + + So now, I dream, a tender love-light lingers + O'er all the bygone, in a charmed glow,-- + That hides the marks of Time's relentless fingers + And gilds the cherished dreams of long ago. + + How fair it shines! but ah! the West grows dimmer, + The crimson radiance melts to sober grey, + And so earth's dream-light fades in fitful glimmer, + Its meteor brightness swiftly dies away. + + Goodnight, beloved! for the shadows darken + In gloom around me, and I cannot see; + Come nearer, nearer still; beloved, hearken; + I hear a far-off voice that calls for me. + + Goodnight, beloved! a new light is breaking + As earth's light fades to brighten nevermore; + Goodnight, beloved! till that glad awaking + When morning shines upon the other shore. + + + + + LOST. + + + The sunset burns on roof and spire, + And streets with busy passers rife; + But ah! it lacks the dream-world fire, + That once 'twas wont to call to life. + + That once it kindled in the days + Of woodland haunt and country lane, + Before I knew the city's ways, + Before I learned that life has pain. + + Oh! present, with your armed host + Of anxious cares, barbed sharp, and keen + Fade! for the light of pleasures lost + Shines forth from days that once have been. + + A fairer sunset charms the West + A mellower radiance fills the air; + A scene with old-time beauty drest, + Lies stretched before me, smiling fair. + + A rustic range-wall, gnarled and old, + A wooden bridge that spans a stream; + The glory of the sunset's gold. + The sweetness of my first love-dream! + + Two hearts that meet in passion'd thrill, + Whose perfect bliss no words can tell; + But once in life that joy we feel, + And feeling, prize, alas! too well! + + Oh! Time and Doubt! ye fill the heart + With sepulchres of Love and Truth; + Our hopes lie dead but memory's part + Must still be played till life shall cease. + + Oh! swift years ever drifting fleet + Adown life's current, tempest toss'd, + Roll on! till on Time's brink we meet + And hail the life where nought is lost! + + + + + GOOD WISHES + + TO ------ ON HIS MARRIAGE. + + + My friend, on this your wedding-day, + Where Love and Hope unite, + To yield with Hymenal ray + The bridal morning bright.-- + When hands are clasped + And cups are quaffed, + When round go wishes true, + This song of mine + For Auld Lang Syne + I send to her and you. + An echo of the bygone times + To mingle with your wedding chimes! + + "Good luck," on this your wedding morn, + "God speed" for years to be; + Good wishes, of old friendship born + For days ye both shall see. + When in your bowers, + Bloom promise-flowers, + Ah! ne'er may sorrow's gloom + Bring shadow there, + May sunlight fair + Your hearth and home illume! + All good, all joy, all blessing true, + I wish to your fair bride and you! + + May Heaven its choicest riches send + To bless your life's long way; + May Love its lasting beauty lend + That age can't steal away. + Oh! may your sky + As swift years fly + Be cloudless, bright and fair; + May joys' own glow + Dispel all woe, + And chase away grim care! + May every good that God can send + Be yours through all your life, my friend! + + + + + "ONLY FRIENDS." + + + We said "good-bye" in a quiet lane, + the gloaming, years ago; + few were our words about "parting pain"-- + we were "only friends" you know. + + Good friends had we been in the dear, dead hours, + that still in our hearts would live, + At morn we had wandered the wild-wood bowers, + We had roamed through the lanes at eve. + + We had gathered the sweets of the summer glades, + The rose, and the violet blue; + We had talked of Love in the twilight shades, + And of hearts that were tried and true. + + But of our heart's hopes, or our own love-dreams, + Ah! never a word said we, + For Fate had forbidden our lips such themes, + And "friends" we could only be. + + And our farewell came, like a boding gloom, + That darkened life's morning ray, + And joy's glad glow, and Hope's tender bloom + Died out of one heart that day. + + How we thought in that hour of the bygone days, + Of the golden summer prime, + Of the mountains wild, and the woodland ways, + And the spell of the gloaming time! + + And, it may be, the memory of whispered words + Came o'er us with subtle power, + Awaking, unbidden, our full hearts' chords + In the pain of that parting hour. + + For our hands were clasped, and our lips once met, + The first time, and the last; + Ah me! 'twere well could we all forget, + Some scenes in our buried past;-- + + For the blue outline of the mountains high, + The lake, and the woodland green, + The quiet lane, and the twilight sky, + Too oft in my dreams are seen! + + And still, tho' the summers are bright and fair, + And the summer woods are gay, + To me there is something wanting there + That has passed from my life away! + + + + + ODE TO SUMMER. + + + Beauteous Queen! with crown of flowers, + On your tresses sunny sheen; + Welcome! to the "Lone-Land" bowers, + To our prairies, wild and green! + In your path spring flowers to meet you, + Nature's choicest glories greet you, + Fair Enchantress! I entreat you, + Listen to my lay! + + Smiling Summer, down the ages, + Still your praises have been sung, + And the poets and the sages, + Who have spoke with gifted tongue,-- + In our legends, old and hoary, + Thrilling song, and 'trancing story, + Live to-day in deathless glory, + Thrill our souls anew! + + Still their songs our breasts inspire, + Still is theirs undying fame; + Theirs the untaught poet-fire, + That I may not hope to claim;-- + Louder than the war-host dashing, + Brighter than their bright spears clashing, + Shine their souls, like lightning flashing + Through their thunder-words! + + Radiant Queen! Their songs combining + Yield to thee their highest praise, + Round thy brows of beauty twining, + Fadeless garlands of their lays;-- + Lays whose light our gloom has rifted, + And our yearnings heavenward lifted, + As we soar with them, the gifted, + Far from earth away. + + Queen of Beauty! Still we sing thee, + Worthy of the poets' song; + Willing homage still we bring thee + As the ages roll along. + Songs of birds, and breath of flowers, + Wind-notes, charming woodland bowers, + Morn's fresh glories, gloaming hours, + Yield their sweets to thee! + + Now the prairie-lands are smiling + With the wealth thy reign bestows, + Brightness golden days beguiling, + O'er smooth sands life's river flows. + Through the air glad sounds are ringing, + Nature summer idylls singing, + I, my simple off'ring bringing, + Kneel at Summer's feet! + + + + + CHANGED. + + + It seems the same as it used to be, when I watched the sunset + glow, + In the days of beauty and gladness, the times of long ago; + Like a light that is dim and far-off, for dark years, full of + pain, + Lie, rolled between me and the beautiful past, that never can + come again! + + Yet Ireland's hills are as verdant now, and the sun, as he + sinks to rest, + As then pours his parting glory, o'er Slieve Gallion's purple + crest, + A glory that brightens and lingers, as though it were fain to + stay, + Till the twilight shadows darken, and daylight dies away. + + On Mullaboy the darkness looms weird on the lonely hill, + The cattle have ceased their lowing, and the song-birds' + notes are still; + And here, in the gloom and silence, 'neath the stars and the + quiet sky, + Old memories throng around me, of days long, long gone by. + + Two scenes are ever fairest, and first in this heart of mine, + And with clearer light and brighter, 'mong the dimmer + phantoms shine, + And perfect in light and shadow, in tracing true and grand + Are the pictures as memory paints them, with firm and master- + hand. + + The first is a cloudless moonlight, in calm and silvery + sheen, + And the range of the Morne Mountains in the dim background is + seen; + Beneath them the sea is rolling, all fair in the gentle + light, + And beauty and peace are blending in the hush of the summer + night. + + I gaze, till again in fancy, I hear the waves' soft roar, + As they break in wild sweet music along Rostrevor's shore; + And a voice with their song is blending telling the old sweet + tale, + Of a fond, true love, that through life's long years would + never change or fail. + + That picture fades before me and the second comes in view-- + A walk 'neath o'er-arching beeches, with the sunlight + glinting through + Leaves that rustle and whisper on branches that wave above, + A silent, tearful parting, the death of a deathless love! + + Dead, and yet unforgotten, worn, but never estranged, + The glory and brightness of morning to the darkness of + midnight changed! + And life is dull and dreary, and joy from earth is fled, + For the love that was light and beauty, and joy and peace, is + dead. + + + + + SABBATH ON THE PRAIRIE. + + + The year's first, blushing roses, + Were decking the prairie's breast; + And the summer garb of beauty + Made fair the wild North-West. + It flashed in the sedgy hollows, + And smiled in the woodland dell; + It whispered in low, soft zephyrs + That breathed o'er the lake and fell. + How it glowed in the mystic star-shine + Of the clear blue Northern sky; + How it crmison'd and flushed in grandeur + In the sunset's sweet good-bye! + And gaudy birds from the South-land + Made brilliant the poplar grove, + And plaintiff calls came sounding, + From the haunts where the plovers rove. + + With dream-notes in the gloaming + The wind-lutes swept the boughs,-- + Sweet songs of the distant stretches, + Where the moose and bison browse. + And we lay in our camp, and listened, + And thought of the wilds untrod; + Of the misty, lonely future, + And the homes on the stranger sod. + + And still o'er the wide, wide ocean, + Our eager thoughts would stray, + To the homes and scenes, to the loves and hopes + Of the youth-time, far away. + Then we slept, to dream of the morrow, + "'Twill be Sunday at home," we said; + "But our church must be the prairie, + With the blue sky overhead." + + The Sabbath dawned in beauty, + With a calm whose breath of peace, + Made a solemn grand cathedral + Of the wild vast wilderness. + The woods were the soft-toned organs, + And the winds, thro' their alleys dim, + Now raised some high, glad anthem, + Now chanted some low, sweet hymn. + + We came from our tents together, + And stood on the lone hill-side, + To join in the songs of Nature, + That Sabbath morning-tide. + "With one consent let all the earth," + Swelled on' the sunny air. + And then, how each home-sick, heart went forth + In that strange hour of prayer! + And the text the preacher gave us + Was, "Rejoice in the Lord always," + Alike in the summer sunshine, + And the gloom of winter days. + And the clouds of our gloom were banished + Like the mists from the morning air; + We had strength for the untried future + For God is everywhere. + + + + + AT EVENING. + + + Slowly along the darkening sky + The twilight comes with stealthy tread; + Far out to west great cloud-ranks lie, + By sunset flushed a rosy red. + Oh! shadows of the gloaming time, + Gather, and loom, and darkly fall, + The winding path to Fancy's clime, + Lies hidden 'neath your dusky pall. + + Pent in the city, now I dream + Of country scenes, of lanes and flowers, + Of woodland glen, and woodland stream, + Pictures of bygone sunset hours! + Oh, bygone! mighty claims you own, + That summon me to seek your shrine, + I hear the call and wait alone, + Until the charmed light shall shine. + + 'Tis breaking! Glistening near and far + A radiance floats, of dazzling light + Untouched by Time, or Tempest-scar + I view my past again to-night! + Oh! fair, false hope, your fruit is pain, + Oh, Love! when life's spring leaves were green, + Sweet, e'en in thought to see again + Th' Elysian called "what might have been." + + "What might have been," we scan it o'er + And charmed we live the dreams in thought, + But wake to find that mist-world shore, + Like cloudy vapor melt to nought-- + The brightness fades, the sweet rays die, + Deep darkness falls and night is come; + A wan new moon looks down the sky, + And stars are trembling in the gloom. + + Morning, and noon, and evening grey, + And mystic twilight, all are flown; + And e'en my dreams are pass'd away,-- + Again I find myself alone! + Young love's sweet morn, when hope was nigh. + Stern noonday toiling, which is best? + Ah! me, they all must fade and die,-- + 'Tis but the end can give us rest. + + + + + IN PEACE. + + + The name, the age, and a sentence written + On a marble cross o'er a grassy mound, + Where, calmly beneath sleeps the tired heart smitten, + Cruelly pierced by a dastard wound, + At peace in the heart of the restless city. + She slumbers well in her lowly bed, + With never a tear of love or pity + By kindly mourner above her shed. + + High birth is safely, its rank and splendor, + Blazoned lineage, pride and show, + Scorn coward justice, who fears to tender, + The lash to vice, in this world below, + What matter--a thousand such things have happened + Man has been false since woman was fair;-- + But say, must he stand at yon High Tribunal, + And what account shall he render there? + + + + + TO THE SEA. + + + 'Tis eventide and the sun is dying, + Painting the sky in its roseate beam, + And out to sea-ward the cloud-ranks lying, + Are crimson-bright in his parting beam; + In dazzling light o'er the waves extending, + In burnished glow on each foamy crest, + At the golden portals of sunset ending, + Its pathway illumines the ocean's breast. + Oh! light of the sunset, soft and tender, + Oh! waves that shine in the rosy glow, + Oh! mountains, so grand in your hoary splendour, + Oh! billowy ocean that heaves below! + + Oh! rolling waves, that are ever beating, + In wild, sweet music along the shore, + Tell me tales ye are still repeating, + Sighing and moaning forever more; + In seething foam 'mong the grey rocks meeting, + Where, rushing, ye break in doleful roar! + + Sighing on in your restless roaming + Wailing so wildly and ceaselessly; + In the morning light, or the shadowy gloaming, + Tell me, what are thy songs, oh, sea! + + Is thine the wail of a life-long sorrow, + The hopeless crying of hope long dead; + The dearth of loneness that cannot borrow + One beam of light from the brightness fed, + To point to the dawn of a fairer morrow + Far away in the future spread? + + But, heedless, it rolls in its wonderous splendour, + Onward, in cadence sublime and vast; + Are these ocean-songs, in their mystic grandeur + Requiems sung for the vanished past? + It is buried and dead, yet still unsmitten, + It lives and blooms in one hidden spot, + Where in Memory's chamber each scene is written, + Graven too deeply for Time to blot! + + But see! o'er the waters the light grows dimmer, + The white-winged sea-gulls to Westward fly; + Pale stars look down in a fitful glimmer + As the crimson fades from the opal sky. + I soon shall sleep, and perchance in dreaming, + I'll live again in the time that's fled, + And fancy the rays of its brightness beaming + In mellow radiance around my bed + And it may be I'll dream not of bliss that's fleeting + But of that fair life that is yet to be, + Where no cloud can arise to dim our meeting + As I stand with _him_ by the Jasper Sea! + + + + + NOT LOST. + + + "Mine," saith the Lord, "these jewels bright and pearless. + Mine, in the day when I shall count mine own!" + So He has called them, and the hearts left cheerless + Sad and bereaved, must mourn the loved ones flown + "Mine," saith the Lord, He gave, and He has taken + In wisdom infinite He dealt the blow; + And round our hearth their places are forsaken + But _they_ are gathered to His fold, we know! + + Home-gathered early, when the sun so brightly + In life's fair morning tinged their curls with gold, + And o'er their snowy brows all calm and lightly-- + The joyous span of earth's brief time had roll'd. + Home-gathered early; fair to mortal seeming, + The promises that o'er their pathway hung, + But ah! we cannot e'en in fondest dreaming + Conceive their bliss amid the cherub throng. + + Eye hath not seen, nor to man's heart is given, + To know what to His loved one He bestows + What joys untold the ransomed band in heaven, + Through the eternal, blissful ages knows. + And the bereavement is no hopeless sorrow, + No lasting parting, but an ending pain; + We feel that upward, toward the glad to-morrow + Are drawn these links of the earth-binding chain. + + For well we know that these, our darlings, entered, + Into His joy, shall be at last restored + So while our hope in perfect faith is centred + We wait for resurrection in the Lord. + + + + + LOOKING UNTO JESUS. + + + Worn and wearied on earth's road + Oft with stumbling feet I go; + Eyes that fain would look to God + Dim and weak with sin and woe. + But when, all my guilty stains + Rise in dread immensity, + Then I know my Saviour's pains + Took the load of guilt from me. + Pardoned, healed, redeemed, restored, + Then I look to Christ, my Lord! + + When the clouds of sorrow rise, + And the light of woe is dim, + When the subtle Tempter tries + To win back my soul to him. + Then I look to One Who said, + "All things I have overcome; + Onward go, be not afraid + I shall guide to yonder Home!" + Then what evil can betide + While I lean on Christ, my Guide? + + Worn with toil of earthly strife-- + Wearied hands and heart grown faint, + Tired of all the ills of life, + For the water brooks I pant, + Then above the world's wild din, + I can hear "Come unto Me; + I shall heal these wounds of sin, + Give you rest, and make you free!" + When my doubting soul is blest + When I look to Christ my Rest. + + Journeying o'er this path of tears + Oft my doubting heart is cold, + Far away my Home appears-- + The gates of pearl--the street of gold. + Can I ever enter there? + All the way with danger rife,-- + Then the Master's voice I hear, + + "I am the Way, the Truth, the Life! + Ah! what doubt can then dismay + While I walk with Christ, the Way! + + "Looking unto Jesus" still + I can bid my doubting cease, + Joyful, though beset with ill, + Fighting, yet at perfect peace-- + Sorrowful, yet filled with joy, + Tossed, yet feeling all secure; + Earth nor Hell cannot annoy + While my peace with Him is sure! + "Looking unto Jesus," blest! + Soul at anchor, heart at rest! + + + + + BY THE WAVES. + + + A merry leap on the sunny air, + And a gleam of tresses, golden bright; + A 'witching face that is wonderous fair, + A creature of beauty and joy and light. + + A rocky coast with the waves at play, + Wild wandering waves that are mad with glee; + "Tell me, what do the wild waves say, + Are their words in their music?" she asks of me. + + I start and shiver, my heart grows cold, + Aye, cold in the flush of the August sun, + Whose glory lies on the sea like gold, + In farewell radiance, ere day is done. + + The eager smile from her lips has died, + For the pain on my face was plain to see, + And she turns to pace the sand by my side + Watching the billows silently. + + She does not know--could my darling dream, + Of lost, dead love in her golden world, + Where the hope-flowers bloom, and the joy-lights gleam + 'Neath the rosy light of Love's flag unfurled! + + Oh! girlie mine, with the true brown eyes, + And the perfect faith in your fair to be, + Could I lead you back o'er the bridge of sighs + That spans the gulf 'tween the past and me. + + I could show you love in its full-tide swell, + Its syren beauty its dream-world light; + Then, the gathering storm, and the deep-toned knell, + As Love lies bleeding in clouds and night! + + Would you step aside from the shining coils + That circle to-day round your dainty feet, + Could I show you the woes without the wiles, + In the dregs of that chalice, bitter-sweet? + + Ah! no, sweet maid, you must "live and learn," + Though experience is bought, it cannot be sold; + And the heart joy's thrill, and the heartache's burn, + Must needs be felt, they were never told! + + So live and smile in your fair to-day + And wear the jewel of maiden-faith; + May its diadem gleam on your brow for aye, + And Truth with your Love walks in step with death. + + + + + IN MEMORIAM. + A. S. + + + Oh! land of partings, brief and sad probation-- + When all is brightest, then farewell must come! + And the lone mourner weeps in desolation, + Earth's fairest seeping in the silent tomb. + + Far from her home, where kindly hands have tendered + As graceful tribute, to her well-loved name; + Not by chill stranger-feeling coldly rendered, + But by the care respect and love can claim. + + And still her memory shall be loved and cherished, + By all who knew her in her sojourn here; + Like some fair flower that in the morning perished + In spring's bright hours when skies were blue and clear + + Oh' widowed mother-heart! dead e'en to hoping + Longing to leave the life whence joy has flown. + The eager hands through earth's grim shadows groping! + "Darling, come back to me, I am alone!" + + Oh! yearning heart-cry, in deep anguish spoken, + In sleepless midnights, or in twilight dreams! + Oh! aching pain-throb of the spirit broken, + Soon shall these clouds be pierced by Mercy's beams. + + These deep, dense clouds of anguish and repining-- + Darkness and gloom that but the present show + E'en now, behind them, in the brightness shining. + Wait angel-bands that minister to woe. + + Soon shall they come, and bring the consolation, + When the first burst of agony is o'er, + Then when thy soul is calmed by resignation, + Point to the meeting on the other shore:-- + + Where safe at home, in Christ's eternal keeping, + Celestial joy her ransomed being fills, + She waits, when thou hast left this vale of weeping + To greet thee on the Everlasting Hills. + + + + + CHRISTMAS. + + FIFTY YEARS AGO. + + + Christmas! why child, can this be Christmas Eve? + Ah, me! the years run swiftly on; + Threads in the warp of this short life we live. + And now my chequered web is well nigh spun. + + And Christmas seems not what it used to be,-- + The good old customs all are changed, I wean; + Yet memory of old times is left with me-- + The days whose brightness these dimm'd eyes have seen. + + Come, Elsie, bring your stool beside my chair, + Stir up the fire to shine with brighter glow, + And while it flickers on your sunny hair, + I'll tell a Christmas-tale of long ago-- + + Full fifty years ago, when I was young, + And this grey hair like yours was golden-bright, + When mirth and laughter dwelt on brow and tongue, + In fleet winged hours, that sped with magic flight. + + Sometimes, in waking dreams it all comes back,-- + Familiar forms move softly through the room, + Then leave me, gliding up the moonlight track, + Wafting sweet music down the twilight gloom. + + And at these times I see the home that stood, + In the lone highland valley far away; + The snow-crowned hills, the lake, the lonely wood, + Through which I wandered many a summer day. + + And I was happy in those summers, child!-- + Life in its morning brightness knows not gloom, + The rose-tinged future-mists hide waste and wild + As sharp thorns hide beneath the rose's bloom. + + And girlhood seemed like some fair sunny day + Without a cloud to mar the summer sky. + On pleasure's airy pinions borne away + Too swiftly far the winged hours sped by. + + Then came a glory-crown to gild the years,-- + I loved; but 'twas no fancy of the hour, + No fleeting day-dream fraught with hopes and fears, + But Love, that ruled my soul with sovereign power. + + A love that strengthened as the days went past,-- + Dearer and holier far than all beside; + An Eden-world of beauty grand and vast, + With joys new-born, out spreading far and wide. + + Seemed then mine own; and the long years to be, + Would fill my life with happiness and light, + While this great love would shed its beams on me + In glad refulgence making all things bright + + For he--the hero of my life's romance, + Was dear to me--ah! words can never show + That passion'd love, how every tone and glance + Tender or cold, brought happiness or woe + + But cherished hatred goads to bitter end + And, mocking, fain would quench youth's ardent fire + We saw a shadow on our life descend-- + The full charged storm-cloud of long-gathering ire. + + My father boasted his high birth and name + And owned a pedigree that he could trace, + Back to the stern old chiefs, whose hostile fame-- + He held the pride and honor of our race. + + And still when Christmas came he loved to see + All the old customs of our sires kept up, + Huge yule-logs graced the hearth, and Christmas glee + Rang high, 'mid merry song and festal cup. + + And on that Christmas day of which I tell + The seasons revelry was held the same; + The stately hall with guests was furnished well + And, 'mong, the rest, was bidden Hector Graem + + He drank to me--"his lady fair and bright," + As was the custom of the olden time, + "Your lady! never, while the sun gives light + Shall Graem ever wed with child of mine!" + + And pointing to the door with haughty mein + My father bade him from his board begone;-- + And then a curtain fell upon life's scene-- + Blackness of darkness where Hope's sun had shone + + Some family-feud, in days long passed away + Between the Graems and the MacDonnell's rose. + And still its memory in his bosom lay + Though seeming peace was made between the foes + + But ah! my child, how can I tell the rest? + I lived; but Heaven in mercy spared the blow + Of thought and memory then, and weeks that pass'd + Were one drear blank--I felt not then my woe. + + Child, you have never loved, and cannot know + How drear and hopeless youth itself may seem; + The long, blank loveless years to wonder through, + With nought, save memory of a bygone dream. + + But sorrow kills not, we may laugh or weep, + Still Time by stealthy gliding steals away; + And Winter snows again lay white and deep, + And once again they welcomed Christmas day. + + I watched them with sad eyes that knew no smile, + And a dull mind from which all hope had flown, + A listless heart that nothing could beguile + Back to the gladness that it once had known. + + The dull December twilight grey and cold, + Fell weird and grim upon the lonely moor; + The wild wind raged o'er wintry waste and old, + And in the storm a stranger sought our door. + + He asked a shelter from the bitter night + My father's brown cheek blanched to hear _that_ tone, + He led him forward to the yule-log's light, + A lost--a mourned, but now a new-found son! + + Oh! sweetest welcomes on the wanderer fell! + The last of our long race--returning home; + Home to the long-tired hearts that loved him well + No more an exile, by strange shores to roam. + + "Bid me not rest" he said, "until you know, + I have a friend who claims his welcome now, + For, but for him, the depth of Alpines snow + Had been my grave, and you had lost your son." + + "Then wherefore wait?" my mother gently said, + "Let him come hither till I bless his name!" + And Roderick turned, and forth the stranger led + And once again, I looked on Hector Graem. + + No welcome-glow lit up the old man's eye, + Surprise or anger seemed to hold him dumb, + My mother clasped his hand with sob and sigh, + But to full hearts the fewest words will come + + Then Hector kissed her hand with courtly grace,-- + Bowed lowly to my father, half in scorn, + "Old ills" he said "are hardest to erase + From hearts where gratitude was never born" + + But as he spoke the glistening tear drops fell + From those old eyes, that seldom tear drops know. + "You here" he said "love breaks hates baleful spell, + And gratitude comes forth to yield her due!" + + "Let feuds and errors perish with the Past,-- + 'Tis thus I lay them in a deep dug-grave'" + And, beckoning me beside him, there, at last, + His blessing, once refused, he fondly gave! + + Ah! life is very fair, and love is sweet! + The dark sky cleared, the sun shone out again, + Earth seemed a heaven, with perfect bliss replete, + And new-born gladness healed the sting of pain + + And standing by the window hand in hand, + Hearing the storm howl o'er the wastes of snow. + We were the happiest of the happy band + That merry Christmas fifty years ago! + + + + + BEGINNINGS. + + + At dawn sweet flushes softly creep + Along the brightening sky, + Pale watchers whom lone vigils keep + Perceive the sign, and cry, + The night is gone, the bright day comes, + And gladsome light the East illumes! + + Bright blossoms on the branches burst, + Then Autumn fruits grow there; + So, dreams that sickly hope had burst + Grown real, make life fair. + And dreams we prize as holy things + That haunt our path on mystic wings. + + And so, across life's weary road, + Made dark by many a woe, + We hear the tender words of God, + "Come, follow where I go!" + And listening to that gentle voice + Is fixed the best and earliest choice. + + First, we must pray, and watch, and wait, + And bear the daily cross, + And, till we reach the Master's gate, + Count earthly gain as lost, + Then hear, "good servant, nobly done," + By patience hath the crown been won. + + + + + IN REPLY TO "ALONE." + + + It is the joyous time of June, + And Nature glads the smiling land + Arrayed in garments gay and green + Bestowed by nature's lavish hand. + Oh! soft the lullaby of streams + 'Neath shadow of o'er arching trees, + When all sweet, summer music seems + To float around us on the breeze. + It greets us in the greenwood glades-- + By forest aisles and alleys lone, + Where, wandering in the twilight shades + The poet calls the hour his own. + Perchance he dreams some minstrel hand, + Wakes woodland harps to heavenly song, + While spirits from the golden land + On white wings bear the notes along. + + But to thine eyes the world is grim, + And life is dark through falling tears; + Hath Hope's soft ray grown dull and dim + And paled the brightness of your years? + I know your woe--for I have knelt + Beside the new made, grassy mound-- + The anguish of bereavement felt + And moaned beneath the piercing wound. + + Through the soft azur veil of e'en + The stars look down with watching eyes, + Beacons to life our souls to heaven + And tell of love beyond the skies + To tell, tho' earth is bright and fair, + Still Heaven must be our lasting home; + A land untouched by sin and care + Where pain and parting never come. + + Not far away; scarce out of sight, + A shadowy veil, a misty cloud, + Is roll'd between us and the light, + From mortal eyes the bliss to shroud. + + Oh, thou whose poet-mind can feel + The magic spell of beauty's powers + Let these, His "meaner works" reveal + That fairer life that shall be ours. + Where we shall find in fadeless bloom + The love Time's withering blast had slain, + Restored from death and from the tomb + To life, immortal life again. + And while we weep for earth-joys fled, + Or sigh to feel ourselves "alone," + While fragrant memories of the dead, + Like perfumes round our path are strewn; + Let us not think them wholly lost;-- + These flowers that glad the wondering vision, + Slept 'neath the winter storm and frost + Then sprung to beauty half Elysian. + Fair blossoms deck the orchard bough + The promise-fruit of harvest hours; + Nought have we but that promise now, + Yet faith already shows it ours. + Oh! sweet the light around our tombs, + Where promise-buds in faith are sown; + Faith's eye descerns eternal blooms, + In stature of God's fullness blown. + Still ours--the true and tender heart,-- + The form that trod these paths awhile; + We said "good-night" content to part + Until the morning light shall shine. + Oh! blessed hope! Oh! promise sweet + The harvest of the Lord is sure; + His Hand shall give the guerdon meet + To all that to the end endure! + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lays from the West, by M. A. Nicholl + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LAYS FROM THE WEST *** + +***** This file should be named 6972-0.txt or 6972-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/9/7/6972/ + +Produced by Sergio Cangiano, Juliet Sutherland, Charles +Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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