LIBRARY University of Calif orni IRVINE ' PO EMS, BY HARRY HARRISON ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL. CLAPHAM : PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR. SETTLE : PRINTED BY J. W. LAMBERT, CHAPEL STREET. MDCCCLXXXVII. PR Af] PREFATORY NOTE. 9^2/&v- - J N the present issiie of Poems introductory remarks are scarcely needed. Some, however, may be interested to know that they are entirely the work of my teens, the Prize Poem, which I wrote this year, being the only exceptive composition. Many pieces have been severally published ; but the greater half of the following collection have been in manuscript until now. Although one was the target for arrows of adverse criticism, the just formality of apology in preface has been obviated, I feel, by the outnumbering encomiums on my early exertions which have hitherto appeared. I beg to thank, very heartily, all my Friends and Subscribers. HY. HARRISON. CLAPHAM, YORKSHIRE, APRIL, 1887. CONTENTS. PAGE The Jubilee of Her Majesty the Queen. [Prize Poem] . . g To " Clapham" .. .. .. .. 12 The Boy of Egremond .. .. .. 13 A Golden Sunset .. .. .. .. 17 Reverie by the River . . . . . . 19 SONNETS I. Now the Summer's beauties linger .. 21 II. The leaves are strew'd in field and wood . . 21 In Memoriam. Duke of Albany, K.G. .. .. 22 The Spirit of the Spring . . . . . . 24 Maurice . . . . . . . . . . 27 The Moon and Stars . . . . . . . . 28 A March Retrospect . . . . . . . . 30 The Battle . . . . . . . . . . 32 The Mystic Theme .. .. .. .. 34 Our Christmas Rose . . . . . . 36 The Legend of Semerwater . . . . . . 37 Wild Cherry-Blossom . . . . . . 39 To an Early Primrose . . . . . . 41 King John and the Barons . . . . . . . . 42 Mirage on the Sands . . . . . . . . 44 Christmas : The Old Organist's Return . . 46 The Wind . . . . . . . . . . 48 The Albatross . . . . . . . . 50 Improvisatore .. .. .. .. 51 Epitaph : Gordon . . . . . . 52 The Return of the Troops . . . . . . 53 With Rod and Line .. .. .. 55 An Autumn Evening . . . . . . . . 57 'S + POEMj. THE JUBILEE OF HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN. [PRIZE POEM.] *= <* +> * BRITANNIA'S voice, from land and sea, With praise and triumph rings To Him who wills the Jubilee, The changeless King of kings. Our Empire's ancient Throne maintains Proudly its laurels green ; For, by the will of God, still reigns Our good and noble Queen. Victoria ! name borne on high By ev'ry breeze that blows From flood and field to vaulted sky, A rainbow span now shows, IO H. HARRISON S POEMS. Which gathers, in its golden rays, The record of her reign ; While million tongues, in thankful praise, Bear witness in their strain. Great England's liberty and might, Her truth and progress wide Won by her sons on plain and height And surging blood-stain'd tide Make music strangely soft and sweet, Yet loud as restless sea, For Britain's realm, in measure meet, Sings of the Jubilee. But for a while rejoicing dies, And reverence and love And sadness in its place arise, Which mem'ry bears above : The sorrows and the fears, long past, With bliss now intervene, For saddest memories, bound fast, Are cherish'd by the Queen. "Exultant gratitude again Swells into one great theme ; Our good Queen's days, sung in the strain, Like depths of sunlight beam. The Bible for a light and guide, And conscience for a stay, Our gracious Queen and Empress tried The long unbeaten way. H. HARRISON S POEMS. From ocean's depth to Heaven's blue Resounds the loud acclaim ; A Nation's love, free firm and true- Leaps like a quenchless flame. The glories of her spotless name Gleam like a crystal sea, While voices, numberless, proclaim Our dear Queen's Jubilee. ii January, 1887. NOTE. The above Poem was awarded the FIRST PRIZE in the competition announced in the T. M. F. S.'s Magazine ; the list of honours being published in March, 1887. 12 H. HARRISON S POEMS. TO "CLAPHAM." ESTLJNG 'neath the heath-clad hill Sweet village thou art seen So lovely ! In the sunshine still My dream of thee hath been. Thy charms of fell, and scars, and dales, Thy sylvan shades, and waters gleaming, Thy wood-crown'd heights, and flowery vales, In my " mind's eye " are brightly beaming. The placid lake, and rushing brook, The waterfalls, the Cave, the rills, Are printed in my memory's book The thought of them nought ever stills. The breezy uplands' bracing air, The woodland songsters' warbling sweet All make a picture very fair, Where Nature's pleasures all may meet. I may roam far in after years, But, all thy quiet rural beauty Will smile upon the doubts and fears Of life and cheer the path of duty. If, at the end of that stern path, In other scenes my Life's walk closes, The dearest thoughts my memory hath Shall be thy cots embower'd in roses. 1883. H. HARRISON S POEMS. 13 THE BOY OF EGREMOND. jHE Boy of Egremond arose, And with the lark's first song When all the landscape brightest glows- He blithely tripp'd along. His song a gladsome song of old Like woodland whispers sweet, From earth to sky a future told, In Barden's cool retreat. At silver daybreak, from his home, He rambl'd through the wood : Its crags and steeps he lov'd to roam, With hawk secure in hood. The paths of Bolton's lovely vale None better knew than he ; They were to him an endless tale Of silent victory. On Barden Fell he join'd the chase Of cry and horn rous'd stag ; Nor halted in the heated race O'er valley, height and crag, Until their prey laid on the turf, Brought there to die at bay, Hemm'd in by noble, chief, and serf, By Wharfe's green, fairy way. 14 H. HARRISON S POEMS. The early heron, plunging deep Within the waters strong, Could not a morning harvest reap, And hear not his loud song ; For there young Romille at dawn When dewdrops gemm'd the earth In forest garb oft rang'd alone, So full of hope and mirth. 4 A stag is rous'd ! away, my son ! Be not the last to see The nimble prey ensnar'd, outrun, Last of proud Romille ! The huntsman louder blows his horn, Arise, my boy, arise ! Fair is the rosy gleaming morn, Bright are the changing skies ! 'Away, away, and let it be A truth, which shall remain, That thou wast ever there to see The stag's death on the plain ! The perils dark and deep most heed, In all thy pleasures fraught ; And hence may alway thought and deed With good intent be wrought ! ' Away he rambl'd through the wood, And sunny smiling vale : With hound in leash he near'd the flood, The outcome of a gale. H. HARRISON'S POEMS. 15 He gaz'd upon the awful Strid, But fear'd not gush and roar ; He leap'd, and in a moment bid His hound, as oft before. Alas ! it backward shrank and drew The boy to the abyss, As on the troubl'd waters flew With fierce, redoubl'd hiss. And in the narrow gulf they hurl'd All that of him remain'd ; The raging torrents downward whirl'd All they by force had gain'd. The falconer and herdsman cross'd Fair Bolton's vale again, And bounded o'er the stones emboss'd, Imbrown'd with moss and stain, Where Wharfe by rocks is almost clos'd : A bound a leap a stride ! Then on the water-grave they paus'd Of the proud mother's pride. The lady mourn'd her noble son, The last of all her race : Hope's promise had been fleetly run, Nor left a mark or trace. ' Upon the banks of Wharfe shall be, In Bolton's valley green, A great and stately priory That ever may be seen ! ' i6 H. HARRISON S POEMS. And thus the weeping mother's woe A monument then made, Which stands where Wharfe's clear waters flow- The Abbey fair decay'd. They long ago have slept their last And sought a life beyond ; But lives the name of Bolton past The Boy of Egremond. 1885. H. HARRISON'S POEMS. 17 A GOLDEN SUNSET. golden light left by the sunken sun Hath cloth'd the dreary walk and mountain mass : The rocks, the peat, the moss, gleam vividly; Soft breezes stir the copse 'gainst sun-lit pass. The upheav'd stones disclose some gentle ferns ; They, too, are tinged by the saffron hues : The lake reflects now all the rich ton'd shades; The rippling river shines like morning dews. The quiet village on the plain beneath Bath'd in the golden glow appears. The home Of all the virtues Happiness and Love, Seem gather'd there, under the sky's blue dome. The careless children, happy at their play, Look dwellers meet for this Arcadian place : This night of sunset grand closes the day, And to each charming nook gives added grace. The insect world are loth to seek for rest, But hover o'er the deep and darkling pool, Where speckl'd trout their haunts enjoy the best, Leaping up, high, above the water cool. i8 H. HARRISON S POEMS. The pretty maiden trips across the meads, Her household duties all so featly done ; And following where her own sweet fancy leads, Sings gaily as she views the setting sun. The busy ones who live in crowded streets But seldom see a sight so fair as this ; They know not all the pleasures each one meets, Nor how each rising morn brings Nature's bliss. 1883. H. HARRISON S POEMS. REVERIE BY THE RIVER. I SAT beneath The whisp'ring boughs of leafy green-woods near, And watch'd the winding waters, bright and clear, Which ever sing sweet love to list'ning ear, On hill or heath. The noonday beams Were gloriously blazing from on high, Embathing as they came the speckless sky, With a great flood of golden gleaming dye, In thousand streams. The far-off hills, Touch'd by the richness of the amber rays, Dimm'd by the breeze-stirr'd silver-tinted haze, Sent loudly forth, the while, anthems of praise, By crystal rills. The feather'd race O'er mossy banks pour'd out their happy strain ; And busy insects danc'd across the plain, Where the wild flowerets have peep'd again On meadow-trace. 20 H. HARRISON S POEMS. From bud to bud The gaily painted butterfly pass'd on, Through bathing insects where the water shone, Until the crimson setting sun was gone Below the wood. Above the stones, Enwreath'd by matted grass and dark-brown moss, Where bending willows o'er the water toss, The fish arose again but to recross The river thrones. Shy willow-wrens Hopp'd 'neath the overhanging edge and wall ; And ouzels left their nests about the fall, Near where the wild ring-dove did gently call Within the glens. There, life seem'd bliss - Each grateful to sustain its little part, Led not by frail fatuity of heart ; They truly live their lives ere they depart To death's abyss. Could we, like them, As well, unthinkingly, fill up our stage, Each moment would be one great volume's page, Until the sacred leaves seal'd all our age, A priceless gem. 1885. H. HARRISON S POEMS. 21 SONNETS. I. the Summer's beauties linger, Yet how soon they all will die ; Brown and golden leaves and grasses, Glowing 'neath the Autumn sky. Gentle breezes waft the wood-land ; O'er the lake, a silver sheen Flickers on the ruffl'd surface, And the leas and pastures green. Life is like this pleasant moment ; Often when so fair and bright, Like the glory of the season, Quickly fades from earthly sight. As the leaf falls from the tree Drift we to Eternity. 1884. II. 7^ HE leaves are strew'd in field and wood, irsSS^ The glorious vestures of the bough. A little while ago I stood, And thought of things which are not now, The beauties which could but exist, The dying, frail, and feeble too : They could not Autumn sear resist, Or they their life to youth renew. The trees, whose lovely colors shone, Are stripp'd of all from stem to stem : The aged and the weak are gone, The trying fall hath taken them. Seek now another life and birth, Ere comes the Harvest of the earth. 1884. 22 H. HARRISON S POEMS. IN MEMORIAM. Duke of Albany, K.G., died March 28th, 1884. iO^-r-f )ARCE had the silence of the midnight hour pass'd, When one long sigh was breathed through the air; For death, so sweet and calm, had gather'd fast On Albany's young Duke, belov'd and fair. The sun had brightly set o'er gentle Cannes' gay scene ; Gladness and mirth had reign 'd in every heart ; They were as happy as they e'er had been, Nor dream'd that soon their Chief would life depart. With sad and silent thoughts, the dreary morning dawn'd ; A murmur echo'd gravely round the place ; And they who join'd that yesterday bemoan'd, As they beheld the calm and lifeless face. And England again doth mourn and mingle tears With Queen and Widow in their sudden grief ; For promise of the unborn happy years Is fled with life, an earthly portion brief. They paus'd and listen'd to the heavy bell which toll'd, And heard with woe and pain, how death had brought The Duke, a victim to an earthy mould How one so good and young had soon been sought. H. HARRISON S POEMS. 23 But nought can harm or taint his pure faith and trust, Nought dim his conscience by a vain remorse ; He sleeps in death, his body turns to dust, His watchful soul hath reach'd its heavenly source. We can indeed but yield to death's cold touch so given, For tears and sorrow cross the path we tread ; Yet while we strive, our looks can turn to Heaven, That we may not forget our cherish'd dead. * * * * 1884. H. HARRISON S POEMS. THE SPIRIT OF THE SPRING. jjH ! the woodlands and the mountains, With their silver flashing fountains, And the meadows, and the hedgerows, are now drap'd with mantles green ; Yea ! the sunny banks and bowers Are reclad with ferns and flowers, Where the snowflakes, and the icicles, so latterly hath been. See ! the sun his disc is rearing, And the dawn of morn is peering, And there comes a universal song from wood and ditch and vale : Hear ! the gentle lambs are bleating On the uplands, to the meeting Of the clear and peaceful waters, from the greening bank and dale. Hark ! the bees are loudly humming, Flitting to and fro in coming, From their drear abode of Winter, in their journey to the flow'rs ; And the starling and the swallow, In the pasture and the fallow, Twitter, in the silver morning, on the old barn's broken tow'rs. H. HARRISON S POEMS. 25 Sing the blackbirds and the thrushes, In the dew-bespangl'd bushes Hanging o'er the wand'ring river, in its hurry to the sea ; And the violets and daisies, Sweetly breathe their modest praises, ' Neath the shadow of the hillock, and the leaflet-laden'd tree. Now the lark is skyward soaring, And his melody outpouring, With a happy swelling bosom, as he leaves the dewy plain ; Seeing all the wide world's beauty Singing hope, and joy, and duty Joining in the morning chorus, from the forest, field, and lane. All the blossoms and the roses, Where the peaceful valley closes, Throw a rich and swelling perfume through the silver- tinged sky : Through the foliage yet tender Come the songs the milkmaids render, As they leave the clover pastures where the silent cattle lie. Oh ! what hope and love are blending In the strains their lays are sending Tripping o'er the pathways cover'd with a garb of velvet green ; And how sweetly dies the gladness, From the hearts now free from sadness, Filling all the air with sweetness, where their footsteps light have been. c 26 H. HARRISON S POEMS. Then when these delights are spreading, Growing old with Summer's treading O'er the year's changing pathway, shall my thoughts be of the hours When the sunshine, like a fairy, In the woods and valleys airy, Glimmer'd on the lovely landscape of new grasses, leaves, and flow'rs. 1885. H. HARRISON S POEMS. 27 MAURICE. , H, Maurice ! little golden locks Thou lovely winsome sprite How full of life and airy grace Thy infant footsteps light ! Expressive eyes of dark grey-blue, Thy features wont to smile ; Much love and thought beneath abound, Much cunning and much wile. Rose-tinted cheeks and teeth of pearl, Thy beauty is most rare ! Thy yellow curls are signs of love, Oh ! little Sunshine fair. A pleasant mouth, a dimpl'd chin, And fairy hands and feet : A bonny child a living gem A human flow'r most sweet. What shall I wish for thee dear child ? May all good things be given ; A useful happy life on earth, An endless one in Heaven. 1883. 28 H. HARRISON'S POEMS. THE MOON AND STARS. r i LL bright and lovely in the cloudless sky The moon her light spreads o'er the azure vault. In courtly state the beauteous stars shine high So infinitely grand ! without a fault ! The night rack and the whistling winds have pass'd ; Shines o'er the tranquil lake the placid light, And through the giant pine trees there amass'd, Which are reflected in the water bright. And o'er the highland, the unclouded rays Waketh the drowsy from repose serene, To tread the path of hope in future days, And brightly live the fleeting hours between. Across the valley thick with pastures brown, Where rear the homes of honest lab'ring swains, Effulgence awe-inspiring beameth down ; The Queen of night with all her host now reigns. The home bound ship upon the pathless sea, Bearing the glad and lonely o'er the deep, The light around her glimmers ceaselessly, Limning, as sunbeams limn the flowery steep. H. HARRISON S POEMS. 2Q The frozen river like a silver sheet, Winding past many a filigreed post, Gleams as the pebbly shore where billows meet, When surging tides have left a glistening coast. And every sea and clime the spanglets veil, Each shedding brilliancy from its own sphere ; A message cometh from each orbit pale, Another radiance that guideth here. The orb-lit firmament, a depth for thought, Studded from east to west, bears other light Into the awe-struck soul, with wonder fraught, In which is read the great name Infinite. 1884. 30 H. HARRISON'S POEMS. A MARCH RETROSPECT. ?HE rain fell fast, but softly wet V; J snowdrop pale, And root of fragrant violet Within the vale. The rain fell fast The trees among : Of visions past I heard a song. Upon the highest barren twig The thrush sang loud Where building blackbirds chirp and dig- In light and cloud. Still fell the rain, Sang on the bird ; The glad, sweet strain I love I heard. Intent upon a song of love, It heeded not ; Its music floated far above The hall and cot, And warm'd the thoughts Of feelings gone With cheerful notes, Tho' rain fell on. The sun was shining clear and fair The clouds above ; The sweetness of that spring-tide air Was hope and love. H. HARRISON'S POEMS. 31 But fear and care, And troubles new, Refill'd the air Thro' skies of blue. The vistas of the future years Were borne away By, what in retrospect appears, A passing play A time of rain That worked ill ; A sorrow vain That frowns not still. The aerial fancies made On shifting sand, Lay tempest-riven and decay'd On Life's great strand. Shaken by the rain Do they survive, And sing a strain With hope alive ? Ah, no ! when blighted by some deed They sing not on ; Unlike the thrush, the storm they heed, Tho' soon it's gone. What would have been, Are ne'er again The happy scene Of song in rain. 1885. 32 H. HARRISON S POEMS. THE BATTLE. ffixJ ~* rjt ^~ ||||OME on ! ye Scottish sons, come on ! Push to and gain the bridge ; Ahead ! ahead my men ! and none Shall reach the mountain's ridge ! ' As on they flew his voice was heard Above the battle's din : The foaming steeds, the riders spurr'd, Which drew the culverin. They could but think of home and all, Who cheer'd and lov'd them most, As on they flew. The cannon's ball Broke up the foemen's host. The shining squadrons press'd ahead, Ten thousand loyal men : A tear was in his eye who led Them on through brake and fen. Not yet dismay 'd, for fearless they Fought for their freedom's right, While gallant comrades pass'd away Beneath the fierce sun's light. 1884. H. HARRISON S POEMS. 33 The clash and dismal shouts of war Urg'd on the soldiers brave ; They fought for home, and better far Their standard will'd to save. And just in time to reach the bridge, They gallop'd o'er the heath They stay'd the foes who sought the ridge, Each soldier earn'd a wreath. 34 H. HARRISON S POEMS. THE MYSTIC THEME. |||HE evening breeze was sighing low Through bowers from the west ; The fair lands 'neath a golden glow, In quiet seem'd to rest. I saunter'd slowly up the way To column'd aisle, as died the day, At Love's behest. Sweeter than breezes' gentle hymn, The organ faintly swelling Now loud and shrill, now soft and dim, Its harmonies were telling. To tender depths of list'ning hearts, Like prison'd sunbeams quiver free, Like midnight wind at dawn departs So fell this heav'nly melody, With dream-like voice of sweetest love, As if appealing from above. Away from earth then seem'd to float, With trembling wails of deep regret ; And, as wild sea-waves, silence sought, Which, O, I never can forget ! H. HARRISON S POEMS. 35 My Memory was wand'ring fast, But with these changing chords it sped ; The ling'ring sounds and feelings past, Soon in triumphant peace were fled. The last strain, like an Angel's song Accompanied by unseen hand Rose softly to the sky of Hope, And pictur'd all the promis'd land. So beautiful and rich and free, It wafted to the realms of peace : It left my weak, enraptur'd thoughts On high, where themes of love ne'er cease. 1885. 36 H. HARRISON'S POEMS. OUR CHRISTMAS ROSE. lassie ! golden light Sparkles in her eye ; Falling tresses, tinged bright, On her shoulders lie. Hidden in a quiet nook Of the leafy shades, Lissom form and rosy look Fit for Fairy glades ! Skipping round in mirthful play Dancing on she goes ; Like a sunny Summer day Shines our Christmas Rose. Comes the season of goodwill. May a brighter ray Christmas Eve's sweet moments fill- 'Tis her natal day ! 1883. H. HARRISON'S POEMS. 37 THE LEGEND OF SEMERWATER. Raydale, after Romans sought A hearth and home in Britain bright, A thriving town of wealth and note Stood on Lake Semerwater's site. Its people, rich with many lands, Gave not a mite of alms away ; They grasp'd their overflowing hands, And kept their gold from day to day. Food gave they not to beggars blind, Or money to the poor in need : Proud were their looks, their hearts unkind- Their greatest traits were hate and greed. One hoary-headed beggar worn With tramping hills and valleys o'er In dusty garments ragg'd and torn, Begg'd on for help from door to door. These gave him nought, but harshly bade Him quickly leave their thresholds great ; And cried, ' Why should our glory fade By giving alms, without the gate ! ' On silently the old man pac'd, Beyond this city's halls so fair ; And to a cot a pathway trac'd, And ask'd again for something there. They brought him food, and gave him rest, And pitied all his cares and woes ; H. HARRISON S POEMS. He was to them a welcome guest, Though wealthy people were his foes. He rose and thank'd his host next morn, And left to climb the hill ahead ; He look'd less wearied and less worn, And near'd the top with measur'd tread, Then cried, as he stood pointing down, " O, Semerwater, rise and sink, Save yon li'le house, flood all the town, For they but gave me meat and drink ! " The water higher rose and spread, The open earth receiv'd the proud, And number'd them among the dead, Without a sculptur'd tomb or shroud. But on the wayside, near the flood That hid the city's spires and domes, The little cottage after stood The last of Semerwater's homes. 1885. H. HARRISON'S POEMS. 39 WILD CHERRY-BLOSSOM. H|HEN warbling songsters caroll'd in the dell, And thwart the gleaming water showers fell Lying between two pathways soft and green A haunt where oft the nightingale hath been They pass'd, to gather cherry blossoms wild, The matron, and the maiden, and the child. As in their bliss they blithely mov'd along, The welkin trembl'd with a ceaseless song ; The golden west was deep'ning, and the light Was mirror'd in the water, golden-bright. With outstretch'd arms they clamber'd up the side, To break the blossoms for the April bride. Each with a bunch so fair, so comely white, Returned to the hall in full delight ; Unfetter'd youth and wrinkl'd age between The stage of womanhood, in modest mien Rac'd on alike with eagerness to meet The patter of the others' restless feet. The nuptial morning saw the bride array 'd And deck'd with wreaths of cherry blossom made, Upon a flowing robe of primrose pale, Beneath a lovely, emblematic veil ; And in her hand she held a snowy spray, A branch of blossoms from the hedgerow way. 40 H. HARRISON S POEMS. The chosen wayside flowers, the bridal crest, Borne to the altar on a stainless breast, Kiss'd by an unseen tear, as there she stood, Crown'd by the first fair offering of the wood- Are pure as snow which falleth from above, And bud and die in spotlessness and love. 1885. H. HARRISON'S POEMS. 41 TO AN EARLY PRIMROSE. HERE now hast thou to hide thy yellow cheek, Thy tiny stem, and leaves of beauteous green ? The bitter wind, which pities not the flowers, Comes whirling from the East with tooth most keen ! There might have been, 'neath shade of some grey ash, A warmer nook for thee than by that rock ; But thou lifts up thy bright and smiling face, Nor fears the frost and snow's cold wint'ry shock. Although the sunny beams shine not on thee, And lags upon the way the wizard white, Thy head is rear'd towards the far-off sky, Heedless of tempest frown or dark'ning night. Oh, may we learn a lesson from thy life, To bear with patience adverse times and blasts, And look up cheerful when the storm is gone, Nor heed the clouds misfortune round us casts. 1885. 42 H. HARRISON S POEMS. KING JOHN AND THE BARONS.