r«-«* 
 
 Two Queens
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 J'K'M.S^ca^^-i^
 
 UNDER TWO QUEENS
 
 
 
 
 
 CHAPEL AND SCHOOLHOUSE, UPPINGHAM.
 
 UNDER TWO QUEENS 
 
 LYRICS 
 
 WRITTEN FOR 
 
 %\\z 'Eercentenarp f cjJtitial o£ tlje jFountimff of 
 (Eppinffljam »)Cljool 
 
 By JOHN HUNTLY SKRINE 
 
 AUTHOR OF ' UPPINGHAM BV THE SEA ' 
 
 els oluvbs dpicTTOS aixvveaOai vepl iraTp-qi 
 
 itontion 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 1884
 
 For the Vignette on the Frontispiece of Uppingham 
 School Chapel and Old Schoolhouse, I am indebted to 
 the kindness of my friend Mr. Charles Rossiter of 
 Uppingham, who made the sketch for the purpose.
 
 
 TO 
 
 EOBEET JOHNSON 
 
 ®at JFoontitr 
 
 IN REVERENT MEMORY 
 ANT> TO 
 
 EDWAED THEING 
 
 (Bnv ^tcovCa Mmtitx 
 
 IN HONOUR AND AFFECTION 
 
 IS DEDICATED 
 
 THIS TRIBUTE OP VERSE 
 
 941959
 
 Detiicator^ 
 
 TO 
 
 M|)om in Dim gears tfjat are tone 
 JKaster 'ttoas fjoitour to call, 
 
 aJnDcr a itinUIier mn 
 jfor a mu0ic of festitpal 
 
 ®a6e, in tf)e numbers of one, 
 ^|)i0 t^c Iotie*me00ace of all, 
 
 SDne name eber tol)o fjeetjs 
 Mill ^ear in tfje cleansing line, 
 
 90 31 tunc upon 0lentier reeii0 
 g)onG0 but tf)e f)alf part mine, 
 
 ®onQS0 tlje 0l)B.no\o of ueeU0, 
 S^atiotn of tjeeti0 t|)at are tj^ine*
 
 PKEFACE. 
 
 The following Lyrics were written to be set to 
 music as a festival Cantata, which it is intended to 
 perform this summer at Uppingham School among 
 other Tercentenary ceremonies. With the neces- 
 sary exception of the Dedicatory verses, the Epi- 
 logue, and a few stanzas elsewhere, they have been 
 so set by the Author's friend and colleague, Herr 
 Paul David. They are here published separately, 
 in the hope that for a certain circle of readers 
 they may have, apart from their setting, some value 
 also of their own. 
 
 It would be much to hope that any one will 
 care to open this volume to whom its subject is 
 not introduced by some personal tie ; unless,
 
 12 PREFACE. 
 
 indeed, the history of an Elizabethan foundation 
 revived in our own age, with circumstances not 
 less distinctive than those of any similar revival, 
 may claim to be of more than local interest. But 
 there are those, perhaps not so very few, whose 
 ear the Author seeks with confidence, sure that 
 they will give his verse a welcome, if it wakens 
 some echo of aims and sympathies of which they 
 are themselves a part, and of which any record 
 will seem good.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Part h 
 A March 
 
 A Legend op the FouNDiNa . 
 Voices of Uppingham Tower . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 17 
 20 
 25 
 
 Part M* 
 
 The Old in the New . 
 Changing Guard 
 New Wine 
 Tercentenary Revisitants 
 
 31 
 33 
 
 38 
 
 45 
 
 Epilogue 
 Envoi 
 
 51 
 60
 
 ©art I. 
 THE OLD. 
 
 wy iav avOpwiro^ ^dXyj rov <XTr6pov iwl rrjs yrjs, Kal KaOeijSrj 
 Kal 6 (TTrSpos §\a<jTdvri Kal fxriKWTjTai us ovk oldev avrbs.
 
 A MAECH. 
 
 A.D. 15 8-. 
 
 I. 
 
 Hail, maiden our Queen, right queen of our England, 
 The maiden of lands, the unconquered, the free, 
 Since lone 'mid the nations, unmastered, unneighboured, 
 God isled His fair England, God gave her to thee : 
 Thrice hail, for thy crown with a glory is kindled, 
 Old fame of thy fathers, new fame that shall be : 
 For the voice of our thousands is one to uphold thee, 
 One heart is the land from the sea to the sea. 
 
 II. 
 
 Low rumbles war thunder to eastward, to southward ; 
 Shall the lord of the Spains of thy lieges be lord ? 
 
 B
 
 A MARCH. 
 
 The spies out of Eome and the traitors swarm over : 
 Shall the Pope have our England ? Up, banner : out, 
 
 sword ! 
 What ! we, that with Sydney rode, yeoman by noble, 
 Five spears against fifty, nor counted our lack — 
 That shook fiery Juan, and grappled fell Parma, 
 And died in the breach when the Fleming went back — 
 What ! we, that roved over King Philip's own Indies, 
 And robbed the arch-robber, and flouted the proud — 
 Shall we fear ? Be of cheer, our Queen, the 
 
 undaunted ; 
 Let the storm break and fall, thou shalt face it 
 
 unbowed. 
 
 III. 
 
 When the storm -rack drives leeward, the rainbow 
 
 outspanneth ; 
 Where cleaveth the ploughshare, there quickens the 
 
 sod: 
 So breaks the new sun o'er the land we have foufrht for, 
 So blossom the flowers where our musters have trod.
 
 A MARCH. 19 
 
 In the tramp of our war, in the roar of our battle, 
 There waketh a nation, there dawneth an age : 
 Praise hast thou, Queen, in the soldier, the seaman; 
 But praise shalt thou have in the singer, the sage. 
 Thy star, that burns red in the war-smoke uprolling. 
 Shall soften, shall beam on the harvests of peace : 
 And sure shall men plant in the land of the freeman, 
 And the good they have sown for their children increase.
 
 A LEGEND OF THE FOUNDING. 
 
 1584. 
 
 All day long till daylight died, 
 Echoing from the loud hillside, 
 Down the long green valley rang 
 Stroke of tool and hammer-clang. 
 All day long with might and skill 
 Strongly wrought the builders still ; 
 Drew the line and trenched and hewed, 
 Master wise and craftsman good, 
 Shaped the great blocks one by one, 
 Corner-stone and corner-stone. 
 All day long till eventide. 
 
 Then from eastward valleys wide
 
 A LEGEND OF THE FOUNDING. 21 
 
 Where dark Welland mute, unseen, 
 Creeps his crumbling banks between. 
 From the winding willow line, 
 Over meadows of the kine, 
 Over uplands of the sheep. 
 Bringing silence, bringing sleep. 
 Came the boon night over all. 
 Came and let the starbeams fall 
 Soft on dreaming wood and wold. 
 Mead and tilth and croft and fold, 
 Fleeces in the glimmering pen, 
 And the drowsy eaves of men. 
 
 Then to one who wandered still, 
 Musing on the silent hill 
 By the heapings of the stone, — 
 Lo ! across the midnight blown 
 Sudden on the trembling air. 
 High and mystical and rare. 
 Wild as elfin pipes that flute 
 Through the waste when eve is mute.
 
 ii A LEGEND OF THE FOUNDING. 
 
 Came a blast of magic song 
 And a chanting rolled along, 
 And a burden strong, elate, 
 Lofty syllables of fate, 
 Voices of the Unseen that know 
 Works of men that fade or grow 
 In the increasing ages' flow : — 
 
 Song. 
 
 " Ye who build on Eoet's steep 
 Witting not the thing ye do, 
 Where ye sow shall others reap 
 When the old is grown the new. 
 
 Lay the sure foundations deep. 
 
 Strongly lay them, lay them true 
 Lo ! there rise when ye shall sleep 
 Builders building after you. 
 
 " Large of heart ye shall not lack 
 Guerdon large for toil and gold
 
 A LEGEND OF THE FOUNDING. 23 
 
 Time shall yield the increase back, 
 When the new shall crown the old. 
 Lay the sure foundations deep. 
 
 Strongly lay them, lay them true : 
 Lo ! there rise when ye shall sleep 
 Builders building after you. 
 
 " Thrice and thrice and thrice once more 
 Euns the age of mortal men : 
 Thrice three months of years are o'er 
 Then the old is born again. 
 
 Lay the sure foundations deep, 
 
 Strongly lay them, lay them true : 
 Lo ! there rise when ye shall sleep 
 Builders building after you." 
 
 Ceased the voice, but all the air 
 Trembling yet the burthen bare ; 
 And the echoes creep and creep 
 Over uplands of the sheep,
 
 24 A LEGEND OF THE FOUNDING. 
 
 Over meadows of the kine, 
 O'er the far hill's bounding line, 
 Thin and thinner, till they die 
 In the waste of starry sky 
 And the silences on high.
 
 VOICES OF UPPINGHAM TOWEE. 
 
 A.D. 17—. 
 
 Out of belfry windows hoary, 
 
 Wind-beleaguered, we 
 Watch, men, your changing story, 
 
 Changing not as ye. 
 All the ages' mingled treasure 
 
 Hold our hearts in fee : 
 Days that were our chimes outmeasure 
 
 And the days that be. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Through the town our voices wander, 
 
 Eleet and wander, 
 
 And beyond her 
 Over silent pastures yonder
 
 26 VOICES OF UPPINGHAM TOWER. 
 
 Far their echoes range ; 
 
 Tolling, tolling, 
 
 Still out-rolling. 
 Still to one sure music doling 
 Time and chance and change. 
 
 Eound us dwells a simple people. 
 Scattered far by holt and steeple 
 
 Over uplands wide : 
 These content and little caring 
 How the eager world be faring 
 
 'Mid their herds abide. 
 Up from Catmos vale ascending. 
 Slow to midweek market wending, 
 
 Troop the mighty beeves ; 
 Troop the fleeces brown and heavy ; 
 And the burly drover levy 
 
 Hums about our eaves. 
 
 'Neath yon legend-graven portals 
 Wind the satchel-laden mortals,
 
 VOICES OF UPPINGHAM TOWER. 27 
 
 Kosy morn or gray : 
 Mute we list the scholar droning. 
 List sonorous sage intoning 
 
 Half the weary day : 
 Then we lift the hammer duly, 
 Strike the sudden noontide truly : — 
 
 Ha ! they hear it pealed ; 
 Outward flings the merry riot, 
 Shakes the street's contented quiet, 
 
 Shakes the laughing field. 
 
 Once through Sabbath morns upstealing 
 Came the fervent, bold, appealing 
 
 Voice of long ago. 
 All too soon, to silence banished, 
 Fled the voice ; our glory vanished ; 
 
 Died the moment's glow. 
 Ere our iron tongues grow rusty, 
 Ageing, ageing in the dusty 
 
 Glooms of belfry hoar,
 
 28 VOICES OF UPPINGHAM TOWER. 
 
 Shall this sleepy calm be broken, 
 Deeds be done, and words be spoken 
 Hero-like, once more ? 
 
 Chorus. 
 Through the town our voices wander, 
 Fleet and wander. 
 And beyond her 
 Over silent pastures yonder 
 Far their echoes range ; 
 Tolling, tolling. 
 Still out-rolling. 
 Still to one sure music doling 
 Time and chance and change.
 
 THE NEW. 
 
 Exiit ad caelum ramis felitihus arbos, 
 Miraturque novas frondes et non sua poma.
 
 Not as the flowers that unfold 
 Does the jjlantinrj of men decay : 
 
 Twice hath our bloom outrolled, 
 Twice overreddens the spray, 
 
 For the Queen we loorshipped of old, 
 For the Queen whom we love to-day.
 
 THE OLD IN THE NEW. 
 
 (an apologue.) 
 
 She. 
 
 Fair son, and wilt thou be gone 
 From our old gray towers 
 
 To the world of men, and the wild 
 
 Far countries over the tide : 
 
 Were it not wiser done. 
 
 In our knightly bowers. 
 
 Where the line of thy sires, my child, 
 
 Abode, thou too to abide ? 
 
 Thy fathers, were they not bold, 
 And loyal each to his lord : 
 Not he who in slaughter rolled 
 The White Rose back at the ford '^. 
 Yet they by forest and flood, 
 'Mid a faithful people, alone, 
 Dwelt happy. O son of their blood. 
 And must thou be gone t
 
 32 THE OLD IN THE NEW. 
 
 He. 
 
 I am son of their knightly blood, 
 
 O mother, true son : 
 But, save I be more than they, 
 I were least and worst of my line. 
 For pleasant it were and good 
 
 To live on, live on. 
 By river and lawn and gray 
 Old towers of the home that is mine ; 
 But the Oueen hath bidden her best 
 To council and camp and fight ; 
 And a fire that will not rest 
 Has sprung in the land alight ; 
 And the blood of my sire who rolled 
 The White Rose back at the ford 
 Burns in me. O now as of old 
 We are true to our lord.
 
 CHANGINa GUAED. 
 
 A COLLOQUY OF THE OLD AND THE NEW. 
 
 Genius of the Past speaks. 
 
 " High warder of sacred treasure, 
 
 Boon mother of thousand sons, 
 In my place nine ages I tarry 
 
 Till the fateful glass outruns : 
 And hark ! there soundeth a summons 
 
 With the last of the falling sand, 
 Like challenge of good knight's trumpet 
 
 That peals in a lonely land : 
 And fear is upon me and wonder, 
 
 For a noise of gathering feet 
 Affrayeth the age-long quiet 
 
 Of the still memorial seat." 
 c 
 
 y
 
 34 CHANGING GUARD. 
 
 The Present. 
 
 " mother of sons, and warder 
 
 Of the holy treasure of time, 
 Our name it is spelled and written 
 
 In the Fates' eternal rhyme. 
 Sons whom thou barest never, 
 
 We spring to thine ageing line : 
 We come nor without thee nor of thee, 
 
 Thy children, and yet not thine. 
 And we spoil thee, mother, and crown thee, 
 
 And boon we mingle and bane ; 
 For lo ! at our coming thou passest, 
 
 And passing thou com'st again." 
 
 The Fast. 
 
 " Eight well ye have spelled the riddle 
 That winneth my room and state ; 
 Yet one word more there lacketh, 
 One token-word of fate.
 
 CHANGING GUARD. 35 
 
 Ere the golden key I render, 
 
 Ere the mystic door unseal, 
 Say, how will ye guard my treasure, 
 
 And what is the dole ye deal ?" 
 
 Tlu Present. 
 
 " As God, the all-equal Giver, 
 
 Free rain and abounding sun. 
 Or thanked or unthanked, down poureth 
 
 On all, and denieth none : 
 So we, as the high God help us, 
 
 On the throne of thine ancient hall, 
 None favouring, none forgetting, 
 
 True measure will mete to all." 
 
 Tlie Past. 
 
 " It is spoken. Behold I render 
 The key ye shall fear to take : 
 For the High Ones hear the promise, 
 And woe to the lips that break.
 
 36 CHANGING GUARD. 
 
 But ye, sons whom I bare not, 
 
 Shall wax in my waning light, 
 For yours is the glad Hereafter, 
 
 But mine the Past and the night. 
 I pass, as a cloud upgathered. 
 
 As a wraith at the withering morn, 
 To the silence of things forgotten. 
 
 To the shadows of things unborn : 
 For the great world moveth, moveth, 
 
 With the moving Finger on high. 
 With the time to be strong and to labour, 
 
 With the time to be spent and die." 
 
 Tlu Present. 
 
 not to the shadow, the silence, 
 Shall the light of thy life go down. 
 
 Lo ! we that unmade remake thee. 
 
 And we that have spoiled thee, crown. 
 
 Of thy wealth, thy own, thou hast given 
 A name, and a space to thrive.
 
 CHANGING GUARD. 37 
 
 And an altar stone unbroken, 
 
 And an altar flame alive. 
 And we of our wealth will give thee 
 
 To shine in an ampler morn, 
 In joy of a spring re-risen, 
 
 In might of a life re-born : 
 And not to wax old we give thee, 
 
 But yet to endure and reign. 
 And arise a mother of blessing, 
 
 A mother of truth, again." 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 A melody new and olden 
 
 Is waked on the silent lyre: 
 Torch ever on torch enkindled 
 
 Upbears the eternal fire : 
 From faith that is white in its ember, 
 
 Shall faith in a flame aspire : 
 Tor the fathers are turned to the children, 
 
 And the children's heart to the sire.
 
 NEW WINE. 
 (a eallying song.) 
 
 I. 
 
 When the game is keen 
 
 On the listed green, 
 The tearless war of the White and Eed ; 
 
 When far and fleet 
 
 Flock racing feet 
 By down and dingle and brooklet bed ; 
 
 When the lilied deeps, 
 
 Where Welland sleeps, 
 To the leap and laugh of the swimmer awake ; 
 
 Or wise and slow 
 
 Twain cronies go 
 By the green lane under the rose-hung brake :
 
 NEW WINE. 39 
 
 Still round us and over 
 
 Are voices that hover 
 In field or in hall, at the task, at the play ; 
 
 And they follow along 
 
 Like a haunting song, 
 Like the wind on our hills that is never away. 
 
 For a confident word 
 
 Our hearts have heard 
 Of a dawning hope that it bids achieve, 
 
 Of a cause to be loved. 
 
 Of a truth to be proved : 
 And one hath spoken and all believe. 
 
 " Old is earth and her hopes are hollow," 
 
 Sing the men in the world out there. 
 Give us a leader, a leader to follow. 
 
 And another song we will teach them here. 
 yet and yet there are crowns to be won 
 
 For hearts that venture, for eyes that see : 
 And there rises a new thing under the sun. 
 
 And we, we know it — and who but we ?
 
 40 NEW WINE. 
 
 II. 
 
 !From the dim matin bell 
 
 Creeping on us to tell 
 How sweet are our slumbers, liow surely to flee ; 
 
 Or chirp of the sparrow 
 
 By ivy-grown narrow 
 Cell doors, whence we flutter him, drowsy as we : 
 
 To the mad steeple blast 
 
 That sets evening aghast 
 Wlien the Muse Elegiac is sorest at stand. 
 
 Breaking in and pursuing 
 
 With wreck and undoing 
 The numbers reluctant, at point to be scanned — 
 
 from waking to rest, 
 
 In earnest, in jest, 
 There is one thought is lord of our days, of our 
 nights ; 
 
 In the breast of the boy 
 
 Is the man's strong joy, 
 A burden that lifts us, a shadow that lights.
 
 NEW WINE. 41. 
 
 Something, my brothers. 
 
 Our own and none other's, 
 Something we treasure Time shall not forget, 
 
 We few and we fameless, 
 
 The new and the nameless ; 
 Ah ! yet they shall know us, shall number us yet. 
 
 " Old is earth and her hopes are hollow," 
 
 Sing the men in the world out there. 
 Give us a leader, a leader to follow, 
 
 And another song we will teach them here. 
 yet and yet there are crowns to be won 
 
 For hearts that venture, for eyes that see : 
 And there rises a new thing under the sun, 
 
 And we, we know it — and who but we ? 
 
 III. 
 
 the days of yore 
 When a boy might pore 
 On the scroll of the deeds of a knightly sire.
 
 42 NEW WINE. 
 
 The frank brave days 
 
 Of peril and praise, 
 When faith was simple and hearts were fire, 
 
 And 'twas reason high 
 
 To battle and die 
 That a maid was fair or a leader true — 
 
 Say, whence and where 
 
 Comes wandering here 
 This waft of the breath of the glory of you. 
 
 For the droning flute 
 
 Of our hinds is mute 
 At a clarion pealing a point of war. 
 
 And our hearts grow hot 
 
 With we know not what. 
 And a glamour runs over the hills afar, 
 
 And the days of yore 
 
 Are back once more 
 With the simple faith and the selfless deed, 
 
 And a knighthood true 
 
 Is sworn anew 
 Of who dare follow who dares to lead.
 
 NEW WINE. 43 
 
 " Old is earth and her hopes are hollow," 
 
 Sing the men in the world out there. 
 Give us a leader, a leader to follow. 
 
 And another song we will teach them here. 
 yet and yet there are crowns to be won 
 
 For hearts that venture, for eyes that see : 
 And there rises a new thing under the sun, 
 
 And we, we know it — and who but we ?
 
 Sun and sJiower, shower and sun, 
 
 Long you tarry, too long. 
 Black on our upland the thorn-rows run, 
 
 Black, without leaf, without song. 
 Seaward yonder the wide land wakes ; 
 By a hundred waters your wing outshakes, 
 Leaf by leaf, the pale April flakes : — • 
 
 B^ere you wrong us, you wrong. 
 
 Ah ! we know it what sweet amend 
 
 Sweetly the wrong will cure. 
 When the boon year shines to the mellowing end. 
 
 And the faithful suns endure ; 
 For late to come shall be late to flee. 
 And Summ,er brood on the Autumn lea, 
 And loth the swallow take wing to sea: — 
 
 So tardy our bloom, so sure.
 
 TEECENTENAEY EEVISITANTS. 
 
 From the land of dreamless slumber, 
 
 From the silent fold of spirits 
 
 And the Meadows of Forgetting, 
 
 Half unsealed from sleep 
 
 Come our spirits, softly drifted, 
 
 With a wingless motion faring, 
 
 Lightward, earthward, on. 
 
 And across this stirless ocean 
 
 "Where we float, 
 
 As a wind from viewless havens 
 
 Cloud-begirt 
 
 Eipples out to barks returning, 
 
 Strike the airs of home. 
 
 Soon, ah, surely soon, the clinging
 
 46 TERCENTENAR Y RE VISITANTS. 
 
 Golden vapour, morning-smitten, 
 Shall unclose : 
 
 We shall see again the meadow 
 From the thrifty runlet climb 
 Up the terraced hill to dewy 
 Swarded alleys, rose-enwoven, 
 Where the brown walls rise 
 Eusset-gabled, as we knew them, — 
 Ah ! but hoar by now with tender 
 Touches of slow-pacing seasons. 
 And the wash of rains unnumbered, 
 Since we slept and all forgot. 
 
 Ha ! what glimpses through the breaking 
 
 Golden mist ? 
 
 Lo ! again a sheeted splendour 
 
 Shimmers broad. 
 
 Is it Titan shield ? or burning 
 
 Fierce flame-buckler of archangel 
 
 Over guarded town uplift ?
 
 TERCENTENAR V RE VISITANTS. 47 
 
 JSTay, we dream ; so sorely dazzles 
 
 Earth's new daylight, and so mighty. 
 
 Gathering all the dawn upon it, 
 
 Springs and spreads a roof majestic 
 
 O'er a shrine we knew not ours. 
 
 Gleam the white walls massy-buttressed. 
 
 Age-proof, deep : 
 
 And by tower and hall upspringing, 
 
 Bower and lawn. 
 
 Stately grown beyond our knowing 
 
 Spreads our ancient home. 
 
 Yea, and hark ! from echoing doorways 
 
 Eolling outward, rolling ujDward, 
 
 Soars a music, glad, acclaiming, 
 
 As of men that after battle 
 
 Joying chant the might of heroes. 
 
 Chant the daring and the doing, 
 
 And the cause that overcame: —
 
 48 TERCENTENAR Y RE VISITANTS. 
 
 Song. 
 
 I. 
 
 On the lonely plain, by the sounding main, 
 
 Through the heart of the midnight hours, 
 There pealed a music unearthly clear. 
 So wild a breath of delight and fear 
 That the wide field shook and the stars to hear. 
 
 And the hoarse deep hushed afraid : 
 Till the dawn broke red on a hundred towers. 
 And a rampired wall, and a prince's bowers, 
 On a nation's pride and embattled powers — 
 Such music the Gods had made. 
 
 n. 
 
 Through the long dim years, in silence, in fears, 
 With labour unpraised, unknown,
 
 TERCENTENAR V RE VISITANTS. 49 
 
 We wrouglit, we ventured, a fameless folk; 
 For we hearkened a music that inly spoke, 
 And to measure we builded, and stroke by stroke 
 
 The home of our faith arrayed : 
 Till the bright noon smote through the cloud o'erblown, 
 And lo ! in her height our city upgrown, 
 Erom base to summit our own, our own — 
 
 Such music a faith had made. 
 
 III. 
 
 Through the shining sky a storm drew nigh ; 
 
 Our wall with an earthquake rent. 
 Sing sorrow, sing sorrow, for hopes that fall ! 
 — But over us echoed a trumpet call, 
 And a free wind sang through the tottering hall, 
 
 With a breath as of ocean foam. 
 And forth to the wilds before us sent 
 The march of the deathless music went, 
 And builded anew with might unspent 
 
 For the homeless people a home. 
 
 D
 
 50 TERCENTENAR Y RE VISITANTS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Then Ho ! for the song divine and strong, 
 
 And the wall to the music reared ! 
 And Ho ! for the storm and the wind and the wave, 
 And the deathless melody strong to save, 
 And the hand on the helm, and the joy of the brave. 
 
 When the angry seas run high — 
 The joy of the brave to have dared and steered, 
 With the surge on the deck and the surf in the beard. 
 Eight on, right on, till the reef was cleared, — 
 
 To have dared, and not to die.
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Just are the heavens, it is written, and man as he 
 
 soweth shall reap. 
 Aye, but a hundredfold oft by the grave of the sower asleep 
 Quickens the harvest, and teems overflowing, and 
 
 whitens afar. 
 When the fulness of tarrying seasons is rained from a 
 
 kindlier star. 
 Did they dream it who gave of their treasure, and 
 
 careful for ages to be 
 Laid stone upon stone, bidding rise fair houses of 
 
 learning and free — 
 Did they dream it, how others should graft where they 
 
 planted, man perfecting man. 
 And the bloom of a spring unimagined out-blossom the 
 
 years that foreran ?
 
 52 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Nay, who that hath lent unto Time may forereckon 
 
 the fruit of his loan ? 
 As the need of their day was they did, and their 
 
 morrow hath cared for its own. 
 
 What rose of our spring shall we gather this morn for 
 
 the grave of a sire ? 
 What sheaf shall we bind from his furrow ? What 
 
 voice of remembering lyre 
 Shall bear him love-tribute of children, and break — so 
 
 the living may dare — 
 The silence undreamable, holy, the peace of the 
 
 heavenward air ? 
 Bidding hail— from who cherish the light that he lit on 
 
 the wind-trodden wold, 
 Where he laboured, and rests from his labours, true 
 
 shepherd, nor far from his fold : 
 Bidding hail, — for his light shall not out, but a purpose 
 
 unsleeping, unworn, 
 Keeps watch, wedding age unto age ; and the heirs of 
 
 his spirit are born :
 
 EPILOGUE. 53 
 
 And the voice of him speaks from the silence more 
 
 clear, and the hand of him dead 
 On ways that he Kving beheld not hath beckoned a 
 
 brother to tread : 
 And the rose -red of hope interwoven is one with the 
 
 memories gray 
 Of who sleeps in the dust of ten ages, who lives in 
 
 the deeds of to-day. 
 
 So greet we the dead. But the living we greet not \ 
 their praise be His due. 
 
 His only, All-worker, All-helper, Who teacheth man's 
 fingers to do. 
 
 His the praise : but the love be thine also, fair Home, 
 whom we greet without fear, 
 
 Paying nursing -dues back of our love, pious coin of 
 our hearts that revere ; 
 
 Fair home of our spirits, dear hearth where the fire, 
 the undying, had birth, 
 
 Which we bear from the motherland altar on sunder- 
 ing pathways of earth,
 
 54 EPILOGUE. 
 
 One ember each son in his bosom : it fails not who 
 
 faileth not it, 
 And there burns on his far away altar the flame of his 
 
 boyhood relit; 
 Pure flame of a worship remembered, a faith with his 
 
 seasons upgrown, 
 Truth kmdled from lips of another, blown bright by a 
 
 passion his own. 
 And ever about him brave words of the foretime as 
 
 oracles ring, 
 Sooth-speakers, live words of the live heart that bred 
 
 them, the lips that gave wing — 
 " Not the praise, not the prize, be thy guerdon, son, 
 
 not the pride of the strife ; 
 But to render the fruit of thy soul to the sower, the 
 
 life for the life." 
 So ring they; true omens that fail not, betray not, sure 
 
 pilots of doom, 
 Many -winged on earth's ways that are many. And 
 
 one in the pent city gloom.
 
 EPILOGUE. 55 
 
 In the labour -smoke rolling, the whirl, the uproar of 
 
 the labour-vexed air, 
 Hears their echo outsouncling the clamour, and knows 
 
 to endure and to dare, 
 Helping men as man helped him of old. And another 
 
 in isles oversea. 
 Planting England afar and the manhood of England 
 
 in kingdoms to be. 
 Sees the mute endless pasture no longer, but sees 
 
 through the mist of his eyes 
 Eaint, faint, the green ivy, gray wall, and the threshold 
 
 familiar arise. 
 And one on wild hills by the camp-fire remembers, as 
 
 silently grow 
 The stern iron hours that bring nearer the morning, 
 
 bring nearer the foe ; 
 When a name of thy names shall shine upward, clear 
 
 flame in the fierce battle breath. 
 Or a life of thy nursing drop earthward, thee honour- 
 ing, mother, in death.
 
 56 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Lo ! now there is festival liglit on the holy 
 memorial hearth ; 
 The Boon Mother has bidden her children, and hallows 
 
 the feast of her birth. 
 There is pause for an hour in the march of her climb- 
 ing unwearying years, 
 There is crowning of labour, and singing of deeds, and 
 
 forgetting of tears. 
 For the nine silent ages are over, the tenth to its 
 
 measure hath run, 
 She hath heard the new errand of Time, and arisen 
 
 and ventured and won : 
 She hath travailed and seen of her travail, hath tasted 
 
 of doubt and dismay. 
 Hath bent to the storm and re-risen ; and now, in the 
 
 calm of her day, 
 Soft droop the still folds of her banner, by sunlight of 
 
 honour caressed. 
 Since they tossed in the battle-rank o'er us and peril 
 
 went by them and blessed.
 
 EPILOGUE. 57 
 
 She rests, tlie Boon Mother, and gladdens, and garners 
 
 the fruit of her days : 
 She rests, with her sheaves in her bosom. But out over 
 
 untrodden ways 
 Eange onward her questioning eyes, and of Time the 
 
 oncoming require — 
 " Shall the morn be as yesterday good, shall the 
 
 children be true as the sire ?" 
 What omen shall hearten us, brothers, what word make 
 
 the ranks of us strong, 
 As the shout of a king in our muster ? Make answer 
 
 and fear not, song, 
 Make answer — " One omen is best, for the fatherland 
 
 fighting to stand, 
 For the fatherland ever, the walls that engird the 
 
 inviolate land ; 
 For the laws that upbuilt her, uphold her, the corner- 
 stone mightily laid, 
 The truth that is life of her life, and the faith that 
 
 endured unafraid ;
 
 58 EPILOGUE. 
 
 For the word that she spoke ere another, the vision 
 
 she knew for her own, 
 The paths she trod foremost, the honour that crowns 
 
 not or crowns her alone ; 
 For the brotherhood strong, the live bulwark, the 
 
 watchword that secretly runs, 
 The great hope — on the lip it is silence, is fire in the 
 
 breast of her sons ; — 
 And for memories fair of who once were beside us, 
 
 and nevermore they 
 Are beside us, howe'er they be of us ; who loved her 
 
 and saw not her day ; 
 Leal hearts, and they trusted her fortune uushapen, 
 
 her star ere it shone. 
 And they watch from the twilight of souls, and their 
 
 joy with our joying is one. 
 Yea, one omen is best, and to us it has fallen, we hail 
 
 it our own. 
 And bold are our feet on the pathway, the dim, the 
 
 untra veiled, unknown ;
 
 EPILOGUE. 59 
 
 Tor life answereth life, on the Future are mighty the 
 
 hands of the Past, 
 From the root is unfolded the fruit, from the strong 
 
 Cometh sweetness at last : 
 As to-day is shall yet be the morrow . . ." 
 
 But over the preluding string, 
 Ere the fire can be voice, ere the burden be shapen, 
 
 the psean outring. 
 There sweeps a hand not of the singer, and ears of the 
 
 singer have heard 
 A whisper that hushes his music and dumbs, as it 
 
 rises, the word : 
 " Seal surer the dream in the bosom ; nor doubt it nor 
 
 utter in air : 
 For veiled as a bride is the morrow," it saith, " as a 
 
 bride she is fair."
 
 ENVOI. 
 To P. I). 
 
 Go from him wlio hred you, 
 Rhymes — my task is o'er, — 
 
 Go to who shall wed you 
 
 To sweeter chords and more. 
 
 Trust him : he will render 
 
 Love to me in you. 
 Trust, for he is tender, 
 
 Be he ne'er so true. 
 
 Fledgeling rhymes that flutter. 
 He will imp your wing : 
 
 What ye scant can utter, 
 That will teach you sing.
 
 ENVOI. 6i 
 
 Brother 8 hrecith ivith brother 
 Bloios one fire aflame. 
 
 Harh I the notes are other, 
 Yet the voice the same.
 
 NOTES. 
 
 rage 18. " That with Sydney rode ..." 
 
 The alhisions to Zutphen, Eymenant, and Antwerp, appropriate to 
 the eve of the Armada, are here introduced by a slight and, it is hoped, 
 an admissible anachronism before the " Legend of the Founding." 
 
 Page 20, "All day long ..." 
 
 The old schoolroom of Uppingham was built by the Founder, 
 Archdeacon Johnson, Rector of Luffenham, in 1584. 
 
 Page 22. " Roet's steep." 
 
 Roijt or Rut is the eponymous hero of Rutland. 
 
 Page 23. ' ' Thrice three months of years ..." 
 
 The school, founded in 1584, began to be remodelled thirty years 
 ago, or nine generations later. 
 
 Page 26. "Yon legend-graven portals." 
 
 The old schoolroom stands near the church tower, and opening 
 upon the churchyard. Over the door are faded inscriptions in Latin, 
 Greek, and Hebrew. 
 
 Page 27. " Once thi'ough Sabbath morns ..." 
 
 Jeremy Taylor became Rector of Uppingham in 1637-38. After the 
 outbreak of the Civil War, when he joined the King at Oxford, his 
 living was sequestrated by the Parliament. 
 
 Page 33. " Changing Guard." 
 
 An attempt, for which indulgence may fairly be asked, to sketch 
 the relations of the original Foundation to the Second Foundation (as
 
 64 NOTES. 
 
 it may be called) whicli began thirty years ago, and to indicate some 
 of the ideas by which the latter has been directed. 
 
 Page 33. " In my place nine ages I tarry ..." 
 See note to page 23. 
 
 Page 46. " We shall see again the meadow ..." 
 
 By way of note on these lines the reader is referred to the frontis- 
 piece. 
 
 Page 48. " On the lonely plain ..." 
 
 " That strange song I heard Apollo sing, 
 While Ilion liiie a mist rose into towers." 
 
 Tennyson, Tifhonns. 
 
 Page 49. " Through the shining sky a storm drew nigh . . ." 
 
 The reference is to the exodus of the school in April 1876, when, 
 on ancount of fever at Uppingham, the school was removed to Borth, 
 on the Cardigan coast, and remained there till May 1877. 
 
 Page 51. " Fair houses of learning and free." 
 
 "A faire, free grammar school," is the description of Eobert 
 Johnson's foundation in the old record. 
 
 Page 52. "AVhere he laboured . . , nor far from his fold." 
 
 Robert Johnson was for fifty years Rector of North Luffenham, near 
 Uppingham. His monument is in North Luffenham Church, where 
 he is buried. 
 
 Printed by '^. & R. Clark, Eiiinburgk. 
 
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