fcsSHlS!J 
 
 UC-NRLF 
 
 MY DREAM 
 
 VERSES 
 
MY DREAM; 
 
 AND 
 
 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 BY 
 
 WALLACE HERBERT. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 P, WASHBOTJBNE, 18 PATEENOSTEE BOW 
 1876. 
 
f 
 
 Q. 
 
Hs-37 
 
 (NECESSARILY WITHOUT HER PERMISSION). 
 TO 
 
 GWENDOLINE CONSTANCE ETHEL, 
 
 BOEN DEC. 6, 1875. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PROLOGUE A CRY 1 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO MY DREAM 15 
 
 MY DREAM 19 
 
 EPILOGUE . .72 
 
 THE DAY THAT MUST COME 101 
 
 TO A LADY 103 
 
 TO A LITTLE GIRL AGED THREE .... 105 
 
 A DEATH STRUGGLE 107 
 
 RETROSPECT 108 
 
 MY CHILDREN . . 110 
 
 ON THE RIVER . . . . . . . Ill 
 
 ON THE SEA-SHORE 112 
 
 A FRAGMENT . . . ... . 114 
 
 HAUNTED . . . 115 
 
 HOME AT LAST 117 
 
 THOSE WILLOWS 118 
 
 NEVER AGAIN . 119 
 
 AT NIGHT 120 
 
 THE BREAK OF MORN ...... 121 
 
 ON TENBY SANDS 123 
 
 SAINT CATHERINE 126 
 
 SAINT CECILIA . 128 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 HER GRAVE . ... . . . . .129 
 
 IN HOCfsiGNO VINCES 130 
 
 THE MOTHER'S PLAINT 132 
 
 FOLLY 133 
 
 THE BIRD'S SONG 134 
 
 TOGETHER . . 137 
 
 A VALIANT BOY 139 
 
 AN OLD SONG . . . . . . . 141 
 
 A QUESTION 142 
 
 ITS ANSWER . . 144 
 
 A REVERIE 145 
 
 AFTER THE STORM 148 
 
 FAILURE . 152 
 
 A LESSON 155 
 
 SPRET^E INJURIA FORM^E 157 
 
 EARLY IN THE MORNING ...... 160 
 
 TROUBLE 162 
 
 MY TIRESOME CHILDREN 164 
 
 A MADMAN'S CONTRIBUTIONS, i. . . . 165 
 
 " 166 
 
 i" 167 
 
 iv 168 
 
 REQUIESCAT 170 
 
 NEVERMORE 171 
 
 THE NEW BABY . . . . . . 175 
 
 A LULLABY 178 
 
 THE RIGHT COMPANION 180 
 
PROLOGUE.-A CRY. 
 
FRATRI DILECTO 
 P. C. W. 
 
 
 " The good knight's sword is rust, 
 The good knight's bones are dust, 
 His "soul is with the saints I trust." 
 
A O RY. 
 
 INVOCATION 
 
 I SLEEP- in dreams thy face I see, 
 I wake thy voice is in mine ear, 
 And ever with me, hov'ring near, 
 
 Thy spirit lingers noiselessly. 
 
 The door is open, com'st thou not ? 
 
 Thy chair is waiting for thee there ; 
 
 See-est thou not my blind despair, 
 My love for thee is't all forgot ? 
 
 My very soul with grief is numb. 
 I walk : I pray : it is not I, 
 Some creature else no voice or cry 
 
 Comes from my lips, speechless and dumb. 
 
 " Where wert thou, brother, those four days ?" 
 Ah, me ! nor days nor time I know, 
 But ever onwards blindly go, 
 
 Losing myself in threadless maze. 
 
 2 
 
4 A CRY. 
 
 Christ ! Is there saving in Thy Blood ? 
 
 Mary ! Is lost the power of Prayer ? 
 
 souls that stay and suffer, where 
 Bow ye and kiss the Holy Bood ? 
 
 G od ! In Thy mercy give me soon 
 
 Some sign or token : answer none 
 Comes to me from the days undone, 
 
 From waxing suns or waning moon. 
 
 Alone I wander not alone 
 
 His shadow on my path I see 
 * Thou Christ in Blood ! send help to me ! 
 Send help some Angel from the Throne ! 
 
 I can no more to wait and pray 
 Prayer fails me ! * * * 
 ***** Grant me soon to go 
 (Yet as Thou will'st) to shades below, 
 
 And wait with him Thy Coming Day ! 
 
 * An idea suggested by the sight of a French picture 
 of Our Lord, in which He is represented as literally de- 
 luged in Blood. 
 
A CRY, 
 
 I. 
 
 FIRST in the mimic war of play, 
 
 Flushed with success he proudly stands ; 
 
 While round about admiring bands 
 Of comrades eager homage pay. 
 
 That brow was for the laurel meant ! 
 
 That form none carved can with it vie ! 
 
 Mark well the fire flash from that eye 
 That speaks the soul within it pent ! 
 
 His ev'ry action, mien and gait, 
 
 Proclaim him fearless warrior, born 
 Battle to wage with noble scorn 
 
 Of life, indifferent to Fate. 
 
 22 
 
A CRY. 
 
 ir. 
 
 WE walked along this very path together 
 
 We two : 
 
 I plucked the wild flowers here, the ferns and 
 heather; 
 
 With you. 
 
 The cuckoo's note told of the coming spring 
 
 That eve : 
 No thought or fear of sorrow on the wing 
 
 Did grieve 
 
 Our souls in bonds of friendship firmly knit ; 
 No shade of evil o'er our paths did flit 
 
A CRY. 
 
 III. 
 
 Kyrie eleison, 
 
 Christe eleison, 
 Kyrie eleison. 
 
 THE organ peals its music in mine ear, 
 Voices of choristers ring sweet and clear. 
 Have pity, Lord ! the burden cast on me 
 In mercy lighten ! Set my tired soul free ! 
 
 It comes again in plaintive minor strain, 
 Escape is none to pray I try in vain. 
 The very incense mocks me with its rare 
 And perfumed fragrance borne upon the air. 
 
 Have mercy, Christ ! speak to my soul of peace 
 And bid this jarring noise of discord cease. 
 Son of the Father, answer from Thy Throne ! 
 My life without Thee fails I am undone ! 
 
A CBY. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THEY speak ; I hear as in a dream : 
 They tell me he is dead, is gone 
 To that dim world of realms unknown :- 
 
 Things to me are not now, but seem. 
 
 They take me to the room where he 
 
 And I have sat, and watch'd the sun 
 His downward course at evetide run 
 
 To meet the waiting sheet of sea. 
 
 A coffin wreath-bestrew'd, a sword 
 
 The sword he wore when last we met 
 God ! "can I evermore forget 
 
 He left me without e'en a word ! 
 
 No word ! no sign ! oh come again 
 
 Back for one moment, in mine ear 
 Whisper thy speechless voice to cheer 
 
 My soul unnerv'd, unmann'd with pain ! 
 
A CRY. 
 
 V. 
 
 b 
 MIND is ailing, friends are failing', 
 
 . Strange the sounds upon the air ; 
 Sights unholy greet me, slowly 
 
 Leaving me are Faith and Prayer ! 
 
 Now in madness, now in sadness, 
 Life is passing ; even so, 
 
 Reft of every sense of gladness, 
 I were fain that it should go. 
 
10 A CRY. 
 
 VI. 
 
 " I KNOW that he shall rise again." 
 
 Pale comfort ; when my bleeding heart, 
 Pierc'd through and through with angry 
 
 smart, 
 Beats only with a throb of pain. 
 
 " Had'st Thou been there he had not died/ 5 
 Some Angel tell me : is it so 
 Lost eighteen hundred years ago 
 The Power of the Crucified ? 
 
 " Lazarus, come forth." welcome word 
 
 To those who lov'd lov'd and had lost, 
 No empty sound of senseless boast, 
 Crown'd mercy of the uncrown'd Lord ! 
 
A CKY. 11 
 
 VII. 
 
 GENTLY we laid him in his narrow bed, 
 
 The trees were whispering thoughts of voice- 
 less woe, 
 
 The birds their songs had hushed even the dead 
 Our grief at parting with him seem'd to know. 
 
 The slanting rays of setting sun lit up 
 
 The chancel window, linger'd at the door 
 
 And touch'd each flow'r daisy and buttercup, 
 
 With light of Heav'n ne'er known to it before. 
 
 The soldiers stood around his grave : not one 
 
 But would have shed his life-blood for him 
 there. 
 
 Ah me ! The days of Faith for ever gone ? 
 
 Ah me ! for ever lost the pow'r of Prayer ? 
 
12 A CRY. 
 
 Fling off, faint heart, the fears that gather round 
 And numb and poison thee with doubt of God ; 
 
 Know that he waits but for the trumpet's sound, 
 While resting calmly 'neath the churchyard 
 sod. 
 
 Rouse thy sad spirit ! Suffer like a mail, 
 Suffer, as he the cruel wanton blow, 
 
 That struck him down, and e'en abridged the span 
 Of life appointed to him here below. 
 
 Know that he lives ! Lives near thee far away 
 The dead nor time nor space can know : to 
 thee 
 
 Only time passes ; wait and watch and pray, 
 God in His Mercy secret keeps the key. 
 
MY DREAM. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 TO 
 
 MY DEEAM. 
 
 FHE moonbeams quiver through the lattice-pane, 
 And flicker faintly round thy empty chair; 
 
 No sound is heard save when, now and again, 
 The sentry's challenge breaks the startled air. 
 
 Friends all are gone, but I sit here and wait 
 And watch the shadow lengthening on the wall ; 
 
 Mocking moon-dial ! creeping hand of fate ! 
 Dark drear reflection of thy funeral pall ! 
 
 [ peer into the courtyard's deep'ning gloom, 
 Where first I met thee, where we parted last ; 
 
 [ wander round and round the haunted room, 
 Grappling in vain the phantom of my past. 
 
16 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I look above ; the stars no comfort give, 
 No answer to my eager angry mind, 
 
 In silence cold their lifeless lives they live, 
 And leave of living life no tale behind. 
 
 The turret-tow'r uprises, threatening, grim, 
 And shadows out fantastic shapes of 111, 
 
 That seem to dance about in uncouth swim, 
 As answering some pow'r of Fiendish Will. 
 
 The cowls upon the chimneys bow and nod, 
 And whisper secrets which they dare not speak, 
 
 And bid me join the Dance of Death great God ! 
 Will the night never pass, the morning break ? 
 # # * * * 
 
 Is all creation mad, or is it I 
 
 Who have gone mad myself and know it not ? 
 Does not then madness end the misery 
 
 That gave it birth, in hope to be forgot ? 
 
 Mad ! Well, I will go forth and, madden'd, greet 
 The mad companions who have gather'd round ; 
 
 Merry the mad dance shall be, merry feet 
 Shall twinkle madly over the mad ground. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 Mad will-o'-the-wisps shall light up the mad mere, 
 Mad night-birds shriek a chorus of mad cries, 
 
 Mad beasts shall bellow mad discordant fear, 
 Mad echo echo back its mad replies. 
 
 Mad laughing imps shall chase mad care away, 
 And play mad tunes, a mad melodious band, 
 
 And we, all mad, will dance till break of day, 
 While grisly Death keeps time with bony hand. 
 
MY DEEAM. 
 
 I. 
 
 UPON the mossy bank of babbling stream 
 
 A flow'ret grew : 
 tiny flow'ret, was it in a dream, 
 
 Or vision true, 
 
 I saw thee first, long since, and look'd for trace, 
 In thy frail features, of thy father's face ? 
 
 God shield thee, tender flow'ret, from all harm, 
 His Angels guard thy tott'ring feet each day, 
 
 Fend from thee ev'ry ill, drive off alarm, 
 
 And point thee out the narrow, blood-mark' d way. 
 
20 MY DREAM, 
 
 II. 
 
 GKANT to me this, Christ on either hand 
 
 Let these two stand ; 
 These two unconscious of all sin or shame 
 
 Whose word shall blame 
 Their blameless spirits ? Grant that in Thy Day 
 
 They, sav'd, shall stay, 
 When Thou, Unerring Judge, shalt sit upon 
 
 The Great White Throne- 
 Grant me this prayer, Saviour of mankind ! 
 Pass Thou not on and leave my soul in doubt behind! 
 
MY DREAM. 
 
 21 
 
 III. 
 
 FOOLISH quest ! Unrighteous wish ! Each soul 
 Created from its Maker's Hand goes free 
 
 To choose its future, without aught control, 
 Throughout the great untim'd Eternity. 
 
 Each soul itself o'ermasters ; or for good, 
 
 Or ill, its destiny carves out : but Faith, 
 
 Faith in the shedding of the Man- God's Blood, 
 And Prayer, can save from Everlasting Death. 
 
 3-2 
 
22 MY DREAM. 
 
 IV. 
 
 SINLESS Mother of God ! In earliest dawn 
 
 Of youth, to thee 
 My prayers went up, to Heav'n Angel-borne, 
 
 From earth- taint free : 
 
 Help have I sought from thee, nor e'er in vain, 
 
 When fierce Hell-pain 
 Has rack'd my soul, tempted me to despair, 
 Curse God and die, bereft alike of Faith and Prayer. 
 
MY DBEAM. 23 
 
 V. 
 
 " WHAT He shall tell you, do it ye ;" so I 
 Were fain to do His sweet Will, ere I die. 
 Toil with Him, suffer, crucify each day 
 Passions unblest, marks of the Tempter's sway. 
 Pray for me, Mary Mother so to wine 
 The water change again, and God's best gifts be 
 mine, 
 
24 MY DREAM. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Is it not written, He has giv'n 
 
 His Holy Angels charge, that they 
 Shall overwatch them in their way 
 
 And guide their infant steps to Heav'n ? 
 
 Call, and they come : the air is full 
 
 Of strange unearthly sounds to-night ; 
 A flash of Uncreated Light 
 
 Has touch'd this planet, drowsy, dull, 
 
 Intelligences keen and clear, 
 
 Drawn up in countless hosts they stand ; 
 
 Guarding the gates of Promis'd land, 
 Breaking the chains of Sin-born Fear. 
 
 Your prayers ! Essences Divine ! 
 For o'er me mocking billows roll, 
 Drenching with pain my weary soul, 
 
 Pray for me, so once more God's sun upon me shine. 
 
DREAM. 25 
 
 VII. 
 
 CHURCH Triumphant! Saints! Whose time is o'er, 
 Who wait to meet us on the timeless shore, 
 Fierce the attack of cruel foe to-night, 
 Fainting we cry for help amid the fight. 
 Tempted, as we, of old, the pow'r of pray'r 
 Full well ye know, send succour to us here. 
 
26 MY DREAM, 
 
 VIII. 
 
 PATRIARCHS'! Who in early days, 
 
 Gave God due praise : 
 Prophets ! Who told of Virgin-born, 
 
 In earth's young morn : 
 Apostles ! Who could witness give 
 
 Of God's Man-life : 
 Martyrs ! Who fac'd, rather than basely live, 
 
 Stake, cord, and knife : 
 Confessors, Virgins, Innocents, All Saints, 
 Pray for us now, give heed unto our anxious plaints : 
 
MY DREAM. 27 
 
 IX. 
 
 SOULS, who suffer for each earthly wish, 
 
 Unduly thought ; 
 By price of priceless blood, in heav'nly mesh, 
 
 Eansom'd and caught ; 
 
 E'en while ye wail the sins, whose scourge ye feel, 
 The right of pray'r remains : still may ye turn 
 heav'n's wheel. 
 
28 MY BREAM, 
 
 X, 
 
 COME with me, child, nor fear the shades of night 
 That gather round us, dark as gloom of Hell, 
 
 On yonder mountain shines a beacon light 
 Our paths to guide, of sin to break the spell. 
 
 On yonder mountain-top three Angels stand, 
 E'en now their forms we dimly may descry ; 
 
 Fierce flames the sword in each unerring hand, 
 As when of old it flash'd in foeman's eye. 
 
 Be not afraid ; not foes, but friends, are we 
 (May we remain so ever !) in earth's sleep, 
 O'er earth's poor creatures sleepless watch they 
 
 keep, 
 
 Obeying the behest Divine ; they three, 
 Faith, Hope, and Love, sweet Heav'n-born Charity, 
 
MY DREAM. 29 
 
 ANGEL OF FAITH. 
 
 WHEN the old man 
 His son would offer, at Divine command, 
 
 Nor stay his hand, 
 Though welling from the wound the red blood ran : 
 
 When promise came, 
 That barren womb should bare, and Hannah's 
 
 shame, 
 
 Be all forgot in Samuel's great name : 
 I stood upon this hill, as now I stand, 
 Measuring out of human trust the sand. 
 
30 MY DREAM. 
 
 ANGEL OF HOPE. 
 
 WHEN in Egyptian bondage crush'd they lay, 
 By Pharaoh's henchmen jib'd and mock'd; each day 
 Courage sprang fresh to cheer their anxious hearts ; 
 Wonders and signs wax'd rife Heav'n's fire-flung 
 darts. 
 
 Not in despair the tears that Peter shed 
 At sorrowful sweet smile from Thorn-crown'd Head; 
 Those tears more precious than a nation's boast 
 I gather' d and up-bore amid Angelic Host. 
 
MY DREAM. 31 
 
 ANGEL OF LOVE. 
 
 WHEN all was shame, 
 And clios'n of God deserv'd no more the name, 
 
 Light from Heav'n came, 
 And kindled Charity's undying flame. 
 
 earth-born mortals, will ye never heed, 
 While to your sin-steep'd souls I stand and plain- 
 tive plead ? 
 
^ 
 
 32 MY DREAM. 
 
 THE THEEE ANGELS. 
 
 OURS to keep watch and guard 
 Ours to point Heavenward, 
 Ours to smooth down the stony ways and hard : 
 
 Ours to give homage, praise, 
 Throughout earth's fleeting days, 
 While our forms quiver in the Throne's dread blaze : 
 
 Ours, when our task is done 
 And rest eternal won, 
 Back to return to Him yet Love lives ever on ! 
 
MY DUE AM. 33 
 
 XV. 
 
 CHILD, let us wander on this mossy path 
 That leads to hamlet tree-embow'r'd : in bath 
 Of sweet sad moonlight dipp'd old ruins stand, 
 And throw weird shadows on uprising land. 
 The sound of striking clock from ivied tow'r 
 Proclaims in accents strange the midnight hour ; 
 Come, cross this stile ; in hallo w'd ground and blest, 
 Here let us wait awhile, our weary footsteps rest. 
 
34 MY DREAM. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 HUSH, child ! I cannot/hear them speak, 
 
 If thou thy childish prattle in mine ear, 
 
 Musical with merry ring and sweet, 
 
 Dost babble without thought. Listen ! They speak 
 
 The dead speak. 
 
 And all around me ghostly forms are thronging 
 
 Stay then thy tongue it is not often 
 
 One interviews the dead. 
 
 What dost say ? 
 
 Only the whisp'riiig of the summer wind 
 Through foliag'd trees and over rustling grass ? 
 And these no shadows from another world, 
 But tombstones white, on Which the mocking 
 
 moonbeams 
 Play idle tricks and jesting fantasies ? 
 
MY DKEA>U 35 
 
 XVII. 
 
 COME then, let us look at these same tomb-stones. 
 
 I warrant me they will tell strange tales. 
 
 Here an old man rests : 
 
 Eighty-four ? Well, we all must die 
 
 A long day's work had he done. 
 
 What is this? 
 
 Two little children resting in one grave ! 
 Two little flow'rets nipp'd in early spring, 
 Or e'er their pure pale petals power possess'd 
 To blossom into life and gladden hearts 
 Of parents, watching each awak'ning sign 
 Of reasonable thought ! 
 
 Was it well done, Eeaper ? 
 
 " Twas well, for so He order'd." 
 
36 MY DKEAM. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 HERE a grave 
 
 Sod-cover'd, bound with rustic hoops and tended 
 By careful hand of stiff ring sorrowing friends, 
 And wreath-bestrewn. A simple cross of stone 
 Tells of his birth and death the day and year. 
 
 Ah me ! Not taken ere the dawn of youth 
 Open'd upon his infant mind, unknowing 
 Of good or ill, of pleasure, pain and love. 
 Nor left till, like ripe fruit, his weary frame, 
 Exhausted with life's tedious troubling toil, 
 Dropt softly, and he fell asleep well satisfied. 
 But cut off in the early prime of manhood, 
 While life's rich pulse beat full and strong within 
 
 him, 
 
 And life's dear loves were strewn upon his path 
 He fell ! 
 
MY DKEAM, 37 
 
 XIX. 
 
 How did he die ? 
 A soldier fell he in the foremost rank, 
 
 With battle-cry 
 
 Upon his lips, while foes before his death-glance 
 shrank ? 
 
 Did sickness, grief, 
 Or weariness of world cut short the years, 
 
 The measure brief 
 
 Of human joys and woes, of human hopes and 
 fears ? 
 
 Nay not so ; 
 By treach'rous blow 
 
 He fell a coward's hand his fearless soul laid 
 low! 
 
 42 
 
MY DREAM. 
 
 XX. 
 
 " WHERE is thy brother ? For the earth in pain 
 Cries out and travails, angry for the slain ! 
 Thy brother's blood aloud for vengeance calls, 
 On him who struck the blow My Swift Sharp 
 Vengeance falls." 
 
 " Am I my brother's keeper ? Ask the sheep, 
 The flocks he tended ; let the cattle weep 
 Their master know I aught of him ? this day 
 I waited him, perchance he loiters on his way." 
 
MY DREAM. 39 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " UPON thy brow I trace the mark of Hell, 
 Over thy path I lay My Ceaseless Spell : 
 ISTor night nor day from suffering be thou free, 
 No peace come to thee through the long Eternity/' 
 
 " My punishment is more than I can bear. 
 Open, earth, and hide ! fall, mountains, on me 
 here !" 
 
40 MY DREAM. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 COULD they but come again, 
 For one short hour, to ease our pain, 
 And stop the working of grief-madden'd brain ! 
 
 Could we but see 
 
 Their place of suff'ring, where they wait for Thee 
 Sav'd, but by fire; blood-bought; captive, yet 
 free ! 
 
 Some solace this, 
 
 To tortur'd minds pledge sure of after-coming 
 bliss ! 
 
MY DREAM. 41 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 I LIE upon the ground : thou underneath. 
 
 What ! Shall a shovel-full of earth part us two ? 
 
 Here, 
 
 Come, laggard sexton, bring thy spade and dig, 
 Dig deep. We soon shall find him. 
 
 Thou lazy, chatt'ring numskull, canst not work ? 
 Begone, nor mock me with thy idle prating : 
 Old man, thou'rt waxing foolish in thy dotage. 
 
42 MY DREAM. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Two men were toiling in a field, 
 
 And one was taken 
 Where shall he comfort find, who shield 
 
 Him hope-forsaken ? 
 
 What says the brook to thee ? 
 
 Flowing for ever, 
 Babbling uncheck'd and free, 
 
 Towards the great river. 
 
 What do the weeping willows mutter 
 
 Over his grave ? 
 What do the birds sweet-throated utter ? 
 
 " So sleep the brave !" 
 
MY DREAM. 43 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Six feet of earth 
 And sods to cover him o'er, 
 A stone to tell of his death and birth, 
 
 This and no more. 
 
 Better have never lov'd 
 
 Than love and lose thy friend 
 How has the trial prov'd ? 
 
 The broken bowl whose hand shall mend ? 
 
 Mocking phantoms, away ! 
 
 Back from me go ! 
 
 Full well I know 
 
 After night's darkest shades come brightest hues 
 of day ! 
 
44 MY DREAM. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 STARS ! know ye aught of him ? 
 
 Or planets as ye roll, 
 Luminous now, now dim, 
 
 Hold ye his soul ? 
 
 Moon ! in thy rocky caves 
 
 Do spirits dwell, 
 O'erwashed by plashing waves ? 
 
 Of him canst tell ? 5 
 
 Sun ! do thy hard, hot rays 
 
 Circle him round ? 
 Scorch me, too, with thy blaze 
 
 So he be found ! 
 
MY DREAM. 45 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 THIS time last year I knew thee not, 
 This time last year we had not met, 
 Thy very name to me as yet 
 
 Was all unknown ; if heard, forgot. 
 
 Just here outside the door I stood 
 I mind me well the day and hour 
 Tempting the fitful autumn show'r, 
 
 In idle, discontented mood : 
 
 Waiting what for I knew not Hark ! 
 
 The sound of wheels without the gate ! 
 
 What presage of approaching fate 
 Struck chill upon me, threaten'd dark ? 
 
 A moment more I saw thy face, 
 
 A moment more I clasp'd thy hand ; 
 Here close beside me thou did'st stand, 
 
 And we convers'd a little space. 
 
46 MY DEEAM. 
 
 The red leaves rustled round our feet : 
 The red leaves rustle still round mine, 
 And rustling weep in whispers thine 
 
 Keep sentry on another beat. 
 
MY DUEAM. 47 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 DAYS come, days go ; time passes by, 
 Or seems to pass as we count time, 
 The ceaseless cadence of a chime 
 
 That echoes in Eternity. 
 
 We say, " The summer has an end, 
 The mellow autumn-tints appear, 
 The months eke out the tale of year, 
 
 And years the past and present blend." 
 
 We live, we move, we know we are, 
 Or think we know, or know we think, 
 And vaunt our knowledge on the brink 
 
 Of what will lay that knowledge bare. 
 
 Loud is our talk of Science, Art, 
 
 Iraperishably strong, divine, 
 
 Of human intellect the mine 
 Wherein each miner hath his part. 
 
48 MY DREAM. 
 
 We have niapp'd out the starry skies 
 
 And giv'n to ev'ry sun a name, 
 
 Made the pale moon blush red with shame, 
 A mark for curious gazing eyes. 
 
 What limit is there to the power 
 
 That sweeps with such unerring glance 
 Creation's vast and wide expanse, 
 
 Nor leaves unnotic'd e'en a flower ? 
 
 Science and Art ! twin giants they 
 
 giants, help me in my need ! 
 
 Say, Science, whence the wind did speed ? 
 Art, call me back the past lost day ! 
 
MY DREAM. 49 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 THE fool hath said : " There is no God ! 
 No God ! No future ! Men may prate 
 Of good or evil, deathless state, 
 
 Of Heaven's sweet rest or Hell's fierce flood : 
 
 " Eat we and drink the time is small 
 For sensual pleasures take our fill, 
 Ourselves with lust's enchantments swill, 
 
 Ere joys grown rank upon us pall." 
 
 folly-feasting fools ! The end 
 Ask of the fiend-enfolded souls 
 O'er whom the wave of fire red rolls 
 
 Your necks to yoke accurs'd ye bend ! 
 
50 MY DJiEAM. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 A SOUND of voices in the air 
 
 That hum about but never speak, 
 
 A light, soft breeze that fans the cheek, 
 
 A whisper of unthought despair. 
 
 From the high pinnacle the view 
 Over far-reaching kingdoms spreads, 
 O'er water 'd gardens, flow'ry meads, 
 
 O'er mountain-peaks steep'd in Heav'n's blue. 
 
 " All this I give to thee and thine, 
 (And all of this is mine to give,) 
 Say but the word and thou shalt live 
 
 Monarch of earth, subject of mine." 
 
MY DREAM. 5l 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 A FAITHLESS race has asked for sign, 
 " Tell us, Thou God, if God there be, 
 Allegiance do we owe to Thee ? 
 
 Give to us proof of pow'r divine. 
 
 " Shew us or e'er the dark grave close 
 And wrap us round in gathering gloom, 
 Or ever peals our day of doom, 
 
 Some token of calm, sure repose." 
 
 " Moses have they ; the prophets tell 
 Of the Eternal Heav'n-bas'd Eock : 
 Believe they not ? Then would they mock 
 
 Though soul came back releas'd from Hell." 
 
52 MY DREAM. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 I THINK a time must come to all, 
 I know that it has come to me, 
 When each across the boundary 
 
 Can hear the warning voices call. 
 
 Warning they call, calling they warn, 
 
 We cannot doubt, we needs must list ; 
 The veil is lifted, through the mist 
 
 The shadowy figures we discern. 
 
 Nor is there aught of wonderment, 
 Of swift surprise or ghostly fear, 
 These visitants do but appear 
 
 As messengers expected, sent 
 
 In season due, as we in dream 
 
 Dreamt in some other state have seen 
 The coming back of what has been, 
 
 The look'd-for fall of flowing stream. 
 
MY DREAM. 53 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 THEY sing throughout the streets all night, 
 " It is a custom old/' say they, 
 " We prize our customs, come what may, 
 
 And hold them sacred, count them right. 
 
 " What, do you grudge one night of rest ? 
 
 A few short hours the watch to keep ? 
 
 Too few, in truth, your sins to weep, 
 While rolls the sun to east from west. 
 
 " You do not seem to care for this, 
 
 Our rude Welsh welcome of the morn, 
 You look on it with English scorn, 
 
 And say your English bells you miss : 
 
 " Our voices are the bells that ring 
 
 And greet the New Year's dawn of life, 
 We sing of peace let ev'ry strife 
 
 Be ended in the song we sing/ 1 
 
 52 
 
54 MY DREAM. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 " A HAPPY New Year, sir, to you," 
 
 (It was an aged crone who spake,) 
 " So may each day, as you awake, 
 
 Bring you good luck and blessings new." 
 
 <( And there should sometime be to me 
 A New Year's day of glad surprise, 
 Some day for me the sun should rise 
 
 To set me from my sorrow free. 
 
 " Some New Year's day should speak of joy, 
 Of hope that never yet has shone 
 My dreary, loveless path upon, 
 
 Not even cheer'd me when a boy." 
 
 " Take, then, this New Year's gift," she said, 
 " In memory of Christ's sweet Blood, 
 And when you bow at Holy Eood, 
 
 Be Christ's sweet blessing on your head," 
 
MY DREAM. 55 
 
 Then dipping in the stream hard-by 
 Her bunch of holly, on my face 
 She dash'd full quick an icy trace 
 
 " Be this to you Epiphany !" 
 
56 MY DREAM. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 SAY, Magi, when from Bethlehem's cave 
 Back to your kingdoms ye returned, 
 What was the lesson that ye learned ? 
 
 What was the gift the Child-God gave ? 
 
 Not all the wealth of Eastern lore 
 
 Could aught avail, as well ye knew, 
 To fathom out the secret true 
 
 That ye for years had ponder'd o'er. 
 
 One hour of sweet converse with Him, 
 In Joseph's arms, on Mary's knee, 
 On bloody steep of Calvary, 
 
 Or in some old cathedral dim 
 
 Where the red altar-light alone 
 
 Marks the spot where His court He holds, 
 Where He His mysteries unfolds 
 
 To brokeu-hearted sinners one 
 
MY DREAM. 57 
 
 Such hour is worth a thousand times, 
 A thousand times a thousand, all 
 The unmeaning talk we Wisdom call, 
 
 Fit echo of our nursery rhymes. 
 
58 MY DUE AM, 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 SOME hold, and seem to comfort find 
 In holding such a hateful lie, 
 In crying such a cursed cry, 
 
 In speaking such an evil mind, 
 
 That God has never yet made known, 
 Except in Nature's changeless laws, 
 Himself the First and Last Great Cause, 
 
 The Unseen, Unfathomable One : 
 
 And that all creeds are all alike, 
 
 All true in measure, false in part, 
 All revelation but an art 
 
 Of tricky priests, terror to strike, 
 
 And bind men's souls, with iron bands, 
 In superstition's cramping grasp, 
 While freedom's faint expiring gasp 
 
 Is heard unheeded through the lands. 
 
MY DKEAM. 59 
 
 And that God never came on earth, 
 
 Never took on Him flesh and blood, 
 Nor died on the accursed wood, 
 
 Nor rose again in second birth 
 
 " Be my soul with the Saints !" The voice 
 
 Of madmen hath an ugly sound : 
 
 But, after all, is only found 
 Full of the emptiness of noise. 
 
60 MY DREAM. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 ONE said, " friend, it is not so, 
 
 It cannot be : this faith of yours 
 Of which you boast that it endures, 
 
 And will outlive all things below. 
 
 " The pow'r of Pray'r ! fancy wild ! 
 The pow'r of Nature is the sole 
 And perfect pow'r, the perfect whole 
 
 Of Thought perfected, undefil'd : 
 
 " Ages may come, ages succeed 
 
 The age primeval of man's birth, 
 The very crust may change of earth, 
 
 The earth itself be changed, indeed : 
 
 " But still the all- begetting Fire 
 
 Of Nature change can never know, 
 From Nature Nature new must grow, 
 
 And to new Nature e'er aspire," 
 
MY DREAM. 61 
 
 To him I, speaking, answer made : 
 
 " friend, if I did so believe, 
 
 If I, in truth, could so receive 
 The Eternal words as all unsaid, 
 
 " If I could think there was no God, 
 
 None such, at least, as I have known, 
 No judgment at the Great White Throne, 
 
 This body of mere clay a clod 
 
 " To rot without the certain hope 
 Of future resurrection sure, 
 And all this tale of Christ a lure, 
 
 A madman's dream, of sand a rope, 
 
 " No punishment of hell to fear, 
 
 No sweet reward in heav'n to win, 
 No hideous hatefulness in sin, 
 
 No rule of right and wrong made clear 
 
 " I would not live another day 
 
 My hated life, but in the abyss, 
 Which surely then must follow this, 
 
 I'd fling my very soul away !" 
 
62 MY DREAM. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 THIS tale of Christ the Angels came 
 And taught it to my infant mind, 
 Before my infant lips could find 
 
 The pow'r to lisp my mother's name : 
 
 The Angels taught me first to weep 
 
 The sins for which He bled and died ; 
 The pow'r of the Crucified 
 
 The Angels whisper'd in my sleep : 
 
 The Angels taught me of the foe, 
 His cruel hate, his vast empire ; 
 The Angels warn'd me of the fire 
 
 That rolls hungry, unquench'd, below. 
 
 The Angels told me of the fight 
 
 Between the creatures of His hand, 
 The faithful and the rebel band, 
 
 Children of darkness and of light : 
 
MY DREAM. 63 
 
 The Angels told those mighty Seven 
 How many fought and many fell, 
 Until at last the King of Hell 
 
 Was conquered by the Queen of Heaven : 
 
 And then He had the right to come 
 
 Himself on earth, and lead His own 
 God-Man the right to raise His Throne 
 
 Within the Virgin's unstain'd womb. 
 
 Speak lower, friends : I cannot hear 
 Their voices if you speak so loud ; 
 Naught is so madd'ning as a crowd 
 
 Of voices on a list'ning ear. 
 
64 MY DREAM. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 THEY were the nurses of my soul 
 
 Those valiant women, who did strive 
 The .flickering spark to keep alive 
 
 Of honour, and to render whole 
 
 That precious right, erst forfeited, 
 Of woman by their mother Eve, 
 Rekindle virtue and conceive 
 
 Some portion of their future Head : 
 
 And show that if, through woman's fall, 
 The curse of woman fell on man, 
 By woman's worth should be God's ban 
 
 Of exile yet removed from all. 
 
 Or ever I could read a word, 
 
 Without the pow'r that knowledge gives, 
 I knew the story of their lives, 
 
 Those mothers, sisters of my Lord. 
 
MY DREAM. 65 
 
 XL. 
 
 SHE laugh'd outright an idle laugh 
 
 " What, say you ? I shall bear a child ? 
 Yes, when the old cow in the wild 
 
 Brings forth to cheer her mate a calf ! 
 
 " I sprout a fruitful vine, o'er whom 
 
 Fourscore and ten of years have pass'd ? 
 Let sandy desert, barren waste, 
 
 Bring wholesome store to feed my womb I" 
 
 foolish words ! With God all things 
 
 Are possible : hark ! the angels speak ; 
 Listen, while at the morning's break 
 
 The first note of the Angelus rings. 
 
66 MY DREAM. 
 
 XLL 
 
 " WHEN will they come ? The sign is there, 
 The thin red cord they bade me hang ; 
 Do they not heed the anxious pang 
 
 Of breaking heart, unanswer'd prayer ? 
 
 " Unanswer'd ? No, never was prayer 
 Unanswer'd, so they tell me ; yet 
 I cannot all my fears forget ; 
 
 Forget the Spirits of the Air 
 
 " Who tempted me from earliest time, 
 Who ever curs'd me from my birth 
 Half-sprung from heav'n, half from earth- 
 Outcome of some strange godless mime !" 
 
MY D1IEAM. G7 
 
 XLII. 
 
 " MY Lord ! I lie upon the ground 
 
 Before my Lord ! May his slave speak ? 
 May she the awe of silence break, 
 
 And startle all the echoes round ? 
 
 (t My Lord ! if I have favour found, 
 
 And pleas'd my Lord with music sweet, 
 With word well-tim'd, with well-tim'd beat 
 
 Of symphony, with well-tim'd sound 
 
 " Of song well-sung, so, please my Lord, 
 I fain would ask my Lord a boon 
 God grant I do not speak too soon 
 
 God grant I speak no careless word !" 
 
68 MY DREAM. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 CC "I WILL not leave thee nor forsake, 
 
 But with thee through the world will go, 
 With thee will ever sojourn, so 
 
 One sojourning we two will make. 
 
 " Thy people, country shall be mine, 
 And I will learri to know thy God, 
 And on the path which thou hast trod 
 
 My footprints shall be close to thine. 
 
 " And when they lay thee cold and dead, 
 
 Silent within the silent grave, 
 
 Where o'er thee weeping wild-flow'rs wave, 
 There, tpp, will I be buried." 
 
>iy DREAM. 69 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 " HUSBAND ! If thee, in thy place 
 
 Of waiting, my weak voice can reach, 
 If upon Limbo's soul-strewn beach 
 
 A woman's cry its mark can trace : 
 
 " If thou canst follow still the course 
 Of cruel wrongs thy people feel : 
 If thou canst sharpen still the steel 
 
 Of vengeance, still be our resource : 
 
 " I pray thee, come and help me now, 
 While I, weak and unaided, go 
 To fight alone the boasting foe, 
 
 And write disgrace upon his brow." 
 
 62 
 
"7U MY 
 
 XLV. 
 
 " SON," she said, " dearest and best, 
 Child of my old age, last of all, 
 Hearken thou to my feeble call, 
 
 Do thou obey my last behest. 
 
 " Spurn thou the tyrant's proffer'd grace, 
 Laugh at the mercy he would show, 
 Scoff at him dying dying, go 
 
 And take thee thine appointed place. 
 
 " I follow thee, thy mother, I, 
 
 And others following look to thee ; 
 Death is but passing to Him, He 
 
 (So is it written) too must die." 
 
MV'DREAM. 71 
 
 XLYI. 
 
 " SAY whence is it that to me, * 
 
 The Mother of my Lord should come ? 
 Lo ! at thy coming in my womb 
 
 The babe hath leapt, from sin is free : 
 
 " Is free pre-sanctified ; the joy 
 
 Of such a freedom who can tell ? 
 They only Ayho but know too well 
 
 The mystery of sin's alloy." 
 
 glad sign of redemption's hour ! 
 
 Though Mary, God-encompass'd, feel 
 The serpent turn and bite her heel, 
 
 For aye is gone that serpent's pow'r ! 
 
72 MY DREAM. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 SHE decks herself in raiment gay, 
 
 And tires her rippling wealth of hair ; 
 Eound neck and wrist her jewels rare 
 
 Flash back the fierce sun's flaming ray. 
 
 Through the thick crowded thoroughfare, 
 With haughty gesture, swift she goes, 
 And proud and scornful glances throws 
 
 On rabble rout who throng her there. 
 
 Within the banquet-hall she stands 
 
 None fairer ! Form of matchless grace 
 Match'd fitly to a faultless face 
 
 The centre of admiring bands. 
 
 Fair whited sepulchre ! Her soul 
 
 Is full of dead men's bones within, 
 Steep'd through and through in putrid sin, 
 
 Drunk with the wine of Hell's red bowl ! 
 
MY DREAM. 73 
 
 Who is He who approaches now, 
 
 And looks with strange, sad, pitying eye ? 
 
 What virtue, as He passes by, 
 Shines from the throne set on His brow ? 
 
 A moment and she kneels in pray'r, 
 
 And calls Him Lord, and pardon craves, 
 His sacred feet with tears she laves 
 
 And wipes with tresses of her hair. 
 
 " Thou art forgiv'n ! Mary, arise, 
 
 God-lov'd, God-loving, go thy way, 
 And love with heart all love repay, 
 
 Thy life of love a sacrifice." 
 
74 MY DREAM. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 " FATHER, I thank Thee, for that Thou 
 
 Hast heard my pray'r and granted all, 
 The expiation of the fall, 
 
 Wrung from the bloody sweat of brow. 
 
 " These Thou didst deign to give to Me, 
 Excepting him, and him alone 
 Traitor mark'd out, perdition's son 
 
 Firstfruits, I bring them back to Thee. 
 
 " But not for these alone I pray, 
 
 Not for these only thanks are due : 
 Others there are, whose hearts beat true, 
 
 Who do but wait the dawn of day." 
 
MY DREAM. 75 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 SHE turns and leaves the spot where they 
 Have left His body, cold and stiff, 
 In grave hewn out of virgin cliff, 
 
 And treads once more the dolorous way. 
 
 Eetracing now her steps, she sees 
 The long procession wind again, 
 Shouts, curses, mock ; soul-pierc'd, of pain 
 
 She drinks the bitter, death-drawn lees. 
 
 Undry, e'en yet, the blood He bled 
 To save her soul from taint of sin, 
 To gird her round with pow'r and win 
 
 Her crown unmatch'd, untarnished. 
 
 Was ever grief like grief of her, 
 
 Who gave to death and watch'd Him die, 
 And saw His soul flash and pass by 
 
 Mother at once and Sepulchre ? 
 
76 MY DREAM. 
 
 L. 
 
 THE Angels come ; their watch they keep 
 Around the soldier-guarded tomb, 
 Around the Mother's virgin- womb, 
 
 They weep and watch, they watch and weep : 
 
 They weep at sin's cold, laughing sneer, 
 They watch to drive all harm away, 
 They watch, waiting the dawn of day, 
 
 They weep the marks of nail and spear : 
 
 They weep and watch throughout the night, 
 Throughout the day they watch and weep, 
 Their sleepless weeping watch they keep, 
 
 Till breaks once more the morning's light : 
 
 Then while the guard is slumbering still, 
 The Angels roll away the stone, 
 The Mother bears again her Son, 
 
 Shines forth again the Eternal Will. 
 
MY DEEAM. 77 
 
 The Angels come, the Angels go 
 
 And spread the story far and wide : 
 Men laugh and jest, well satisfied 
 
 To shout the lie-" It is not so !" 
 
78 MY DKEAM. 
 
 LI. 
 
 " FLOWERS must fade," the little maid 
 Her low sweet song was singing ; 
 
 " Birds away to southern day 
 
 Swift their flights are winging, 
 
 " Earthly pleasures, hoarded treasures, 
 
 Fail and leave no sign;" 
 Querulous age blots out youth's page, 
 
 Night o'ershades sun's shine. 
 
 " Stars may fall hush ! hush ! they call : 
 
 Pales their beauty never ; 
 Timid heart ! what pow'r shall part 
 
 Thee from the Angels ever ?" 
 
MY DKEAM, 79 
 
 LII. 
 
 THE long waves come and weep of home, 
 Why do they waste their sorrow ? 
 
 Wait till they break, and broken speak 
 Their mad sad plaints the morrow. 
 
 Trees whisper peace, their voice must cease 
 When winds do fall ; while shaken, 
 
 O'er hanging eaves, the ripen'd leaves 
 Thoughts of the past awaken. 
 
 I wake and lie, the fitful cry 
 
 Of swallow soon will rise ; 
 Christ ! give to me the right to be 
 
 Take the blind from mine eyes ! 
 
80 MY DREAM. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 WHAT is the end ? 
 Who can tell me the end ? 
 When life is wanting, 
 And ghosts are haunting, 
 While priests are chaunting 
 
 The dirge of death : 
 Is there no friend, 
 Whose pray'rs can win, 
 And down-strike sin ? 
 Answer me, Angels, send 
 
 Help to me in that hour when fails my fainting 
 breath ! 
 
MY DREAM. 81 
 
 LIV. 
 
 YE of little faith ! slow to believe 
 Truths that your dull minds fail ere they receive ! 
 Can e'en a sparrow fall and He not mark ? 
 Is ever lost of great God-Love a spark ? 
 Whom He loves best, those He chastises most : 
 His chastisement your pride, His Cross your wel- 
 come boast. 
 
82 MY DREAM. 
 
 LV. 
 
 " CHILD ! to mine ear, tonight, 
 
 Come sounds of strange delight, 
 Of music sweet : voices not these of earth. 
 
 "Wander thou on, 
 
 Leave me alone, 
 
 While songs by Angels sung to Angel-thoughts 
 give birth." 
 
MY DREAM. 83 
 
 LVI. 
 
 " 'Tis but the ev'ning bell 
 
 I know it well 
 
 That sounds at curfew-time to still the noise of 
 Hell." 
 
 " Nay, curfew-time 
 Has pass'd long since ; the chime 
 Of bell has ceas'd, or rings now in some far-off 
 clime." 
 
84 MY DREAM. 
 
 LYII. 
 
 " 'Tis but the waves that beat 
 
 Upon the shore, and meet 
 
 Their rocky comrades whom they foam-tipp'd 
 greet." 
 
 " Nay, 'tis not this, the roar 
 Of waves upon the shore, 
 That fret in ceaseless fume for evermore." 
 
MY DREAM. 85 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 " I HEAR the low of kine 
 
 That for their lost young pine, 
 Their plaint is pitiful in mine anxious ear " 
 
 " Nay, other voices clear 
 
 And sweet speak to me- dear, 
 Pass thou on, leave me let light on me shine." 
 
 72 
 
86 MY DREAM, 
 
 LIX. 
 
 I FEEL out-tired now and fain would rest. 
 
 Let me kneel down. Mother, at thy knee, 
 
 An old grey-headed man, even as when 
 
 Six times ten years ago I knelt, and lisped 
 
 The pray'rs that thou didst teach me and impress 
 
 Upon my dawning mind. let me pray 
 
 Before sleep overtakes me. I believe, 
 
 Hope, love ; and sorrow for the hateful sins 
 
 That came all on Him in His agony, 
 
 And crush'd and scourg'd Him : mock'd Him, 
 
 spat on Him, 
 
 And pain'd Him with a cruel biting pain, 
 Far worse than cord or thorn or nail 
 Let me begin. 
 
JV1Y DKEAM. 87 
 
 ACT OF FAITH. 
 
 IN Tri-une God I firmly do believe. 
 
 In God the Father, Who made heaven and earth, 
 
 And all Things Visible and Invisible. 
 
 In Jesus Christ, His Only Son, Our Lord, 
 
 Who was conceived of Holy Ghost, and took 
 
 Pure Flesh and Blood of Mary, sinless Virgin 
 
 And Virgin ever likewise I believe 
 
 He suffer'd for us and was crucified, 
 
 And died and rose again : will come and judge 
 
 Those whom He shall find living, and the dead : 
 
 In Holy Ghost I also do believe, 
 
 Proceeding and from Father and from Son, 
 
 In Holy Church, Communion, too, of Saints ; 
 
 Pardon of sins, of Body Eesurrection. 
 
 And in the Life Eternal, so Amen ! 
 
88 MY DREAM, 
 
 ACT OF HOPE. 
 
 MY God ! in Thee is all my hope ! None else 
 Have I ! 
 
 Great as my sins are, I will not despair, 
 For Thou hast paid for them. Thy Precious Blood 
 Was shed for me, as for all mankind : 
 I hope and trust in Thee, that Thou wilt save 
 Me when the waters of Death over-roll 
 And shut out Hope ! Then will I still hope 
 When earthly hope is lost. God ! give, to me 
 The grace of final perseverance ! 
 
MY DKEAM. 89 
 
 ACT OF LOVE. 
 
 MY God ! I love Thee ! How can I not love 
 When Thy great Love surrounds me ? everywhere 
 Signs of Thy Love abound ! Thou art so good, 
 I cannot understand Thy goodness. 
 
 Still I can love 
 
 And do love Thee, and ever will love Thee, 
 And must love Thee whate'er else can I love ? 
 So loving let me die, my last true act. 
 On earth my love of Thee. 
 
90 MY DREAM, 
 
 ACT OF SORROW. 
 
 I SORROW for my sins, God ! 
 
 Because these sins of mine gave pain to Thee ! 
 
 Not from base fear of hell or hope of heav'n, 
 
 But because Thou didst grieve these sins of mine, 
 
 And pay for them the cruel penalty 
 
 All for these sins of mine ! Had no one else 
 
 Sinn'd but I, still Thou liadst come down, 
 
 And died the death ! And so I grieve, 
 
 And pardon ask ! Give pardon to me Thou. 
 
MY DREAM. 91 
 
 PEAYEE OF THE DYING. 
 
 OUR Father, Who in heav'n art, 
 
 All-hallow'd be Thy Name, 
 Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, 
 
 As there, so here the same. 
 
 Give us each day our daily bread ; 
 
 As we our foes forgive, 
 Forgive us Thou, that so we may 
 
 The Life Eternal live. 
 
 Into temptation lead us not, 
 
 All evil from us charm ; 
 Thus shall we praise, through endless days, 
 
 Thy Mighty Outstretched Arm ! 
 
 What Shadow this, that comes my soul to greet ? 
 If Death, I knew not Death could seem to me so 
 sweet, 
 
92 MY DREAM. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 CHILD ! have I dream'd the livelong summer's 
 
 day? 
 So ever now in dreams passes my life away ! 
 
MY DREAM. 93 
 
 AT LAST. 
 
 " Domine in maims tuas commendo spiritum meum." 
 
 THE sun has set. His last red ray, 
 Crimsoning creamy clouds, has faded ; 
 
 Trace we our tortuous track of way, 
 Towards the turret-tow'r, tree-shaded. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 Come they to curse us ? Shapeless shapes of 111 
 Gibbering with ghastly, ghostly glare upon us : 
 
 Flee fire-fed forms before His blaze of Will, 
 Whose cruel Cross rare refuge now has won us ! 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 So, by faith sav'd, we sail into the haven, 
 No harlot-hurt our virgin veils has stain'd ; 
 
 No snare of sin has soil'd our souls engraven 
 Each with His stamp, Who our salvation gain'cl. 
 
 END OF MY DREAM, 
 
95 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 DEAREST and best ! lov'd and lost 
 
 Friend whom I long had long'd to meet, 
 Friend whom God sent at length to greet 
 
 My longing soul, tried, tempest-tost. 
 
 Who, at the first glance well I knew 
 
 That pass'd between us, soul to soul, 
 Hadst come the half to render whole 
 
 Of my life incomplete, untrue. 
 
 How shall I thank thee for the time 
 We spent, too short, together here ; 
 How thank thee for the message clear 
 
 Thou hast rung out in royal rhyme ? 
 
 How shall I thank thee for the store, 
 The mystery of knowledge, thou 
 Hast taught me, ignorant till now 
 
 Of love's late lesson, Iove4earnt lore ? 
 
96 EPILOGUE. 
 
 For in that flash, when at the Throne 
 Thy soul did stand naked and pale, 
 Mine too half-pierc'd its fleshly veil 
 In speechless shriek <( Undone ! undone !" 
 
 Nor yet returned for some short space, 
 (Or short, or long, I cannot tell), 
 But searched for thine to say farewell, 
 
 One last long farewell to thy face. 
 
 And then my mind left all alone, 
 Untenanted by pow'r of will, 
 Stray'd here or there, and took its fill 
 
 Of wild illusions : pow'rless grown 
 
 To check an impulse, or to say 
 
 That this shall be so and not that ; 
 
 To choose some point of thought, whereat 
 
 It could recover itself, stay 
 
 Its headlong course, and righted so 
 As on a pivot could maintain 
 Its balance justly pois'd again 
 
 Then, righted, on its right track go. 
 
EPILOGUE. 97 
 
 And so as in a dream or trance 
 
 The days pass'd by, while mind stood still, 
 And weeks were months I took my fill 
 
 Of madness, madden'd with Death's dance. 
 
 Men look'd upon me with strange stare ; 
 Some said, " He should not be alone," 
 Some laugh'd, some spake in pitying tone, 
 
 Others, " What then ? Not our affair." 
 
 But I, unheedful of all this, 
 
 Stay'd waiting for the sign from thee, 
 The sign I knew would come to me, 
 
 The soundless word, the spirit-kiss. 
 
 So waited I, till the grey dawn 
 
 Of hope arose to cheer my mind, 
 
 Till I could, ever seeking, find 
 A foot-hold on the untrodden lawn, 
 
 The neutral ground, on which do fall 
 
 The arrows shot from unseen spheres, 
 Where truth as very truth appears, 
 
 Not darkly seen, if seen at all. 
 
98 EPILOGUE. 
 
 And when the message came at last, 
 (The message that I may not tell), 
 Sweet peace upon my tired soul fell, 
 
 Sweet hope did blot out all the past. 
 
 So I can leave thee now, content 
 To cry no more in futile cry, 
 To ask no more the reason why, 
 
 To bear the Cross in Mercy sent. 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
101 
 
 THE DAY THAT MUST COME. 
 
 TELL you a story, child ! 
 While beats the storm against the pane, 
 And fierce sounds come from foaming main, 
 
 And wind is wailing wild ! 
 
 What of shall iny tale be ? 
 Of sea-toss'd ship and struggling crew, 
 Of fiery flame that through and through 
 Stout timbers pierc'd, and grew and grew, 
 
 Eight cruelly ? 
 
 Or shall I tell 
 Of endless calm, 
 'Mid waters warm, 
 While flap the idle sails at sound of bell ? 
 
 Does this not please ? 
 Well, then, sit here 
 Have thou no fear 
 
 Safe from all harm, lie thou down at my knees. 
 
 82 
 
102 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Of hope to thee I'll speak : 
 Give heed, my little one, 
 Thou art not left alone, 
 
 Not yet, though winds do howl and waters 
 break : 
 
 A day must come 
 Must come, though father watch, and mother 
 
 pray, 
 When thou wilt walk thyself along the way, 
 
 That leads unto thy home ! 
 
 Until then, rest ! 
 On mother's breast, 
 
 Father of thee takes care God loves His love 
 is best ! 
 
103 
 
 TO A LADY. 
 
 IN thy true eyes 
 
 Lurks no disguise, 
 I love to gaze into their honest grey ; 
 
 No second thought 
 
 I read there taught 
 Of them, for simple heart, unselfish sense, I pray. 
 
 Through winding ways 
 
 Of life's thick maze 
 I've wander'd, learning many a tricky fence, 
 
 A look at thee 
 
 Brings back to me 
 Thoughts of my childish hours, my single innocence 
 
 As friendly star, 
 Shining from far, 
 
104 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Guides the poor storm-tost mariner to his port : 
 
 So the sweet grace 
 
 Of guileless face 
 Is beacon-light to minds of worldly wiles the sport. 
 
 God's blessing rest 
 
 Upon thy nest, 
 A special blessing of His love remain, 
 
 His watchful care 
 
 Shield thee from snare 
 
 Wife, mother, widow bring sweet peace to still 
 thy pain. 
 
105 
 
 TO A LITTLE GIEL AGED THREE. 
 
 GIVE you a kiss, 
 My pretty miss ? 
 Of. course I will, 
 And take my fill 
 Of plump red cheeks, 
 Whose ripeness speaks 
 
 Of childish health and strength no greater earthly 
 bliss. 
 
 In twice ten years, 
 If we should meet, 
 Will you repeat 
 The question, sweet, 
 Which now so simple, proper too, appears ? 
 
106 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 I fear me not ; 
 With down-cast eye 
 You'll look so shy 
 (E'en pass me by) 
 That I shall feel a stranger, and forgot ! 
 
 Well ! while shines sun 
 I'd best make hay, 
 So here's good-day, 
 Now off away 
 
 Tell nurse about it all, and munch this nice plum- 
 bun. 
 
107 
 
 A DEATH-STRUGGLE. 
 
 " STEEP is the mountain side," they said ; 
 
 " No footstep e'er has mark'd that peak ; 
 
 Hark to the wild-bird's warning shriek ! 
 Scoff not the pray'r for thee is prayed ! 
 
 " Stay with us till, at least, the morn 
 Gives thee the light to track thy way, 
 In friendly refuge, friend- won, stay ; 
 
 Strive not alone, unhelp'd, forlorn !" 
 
 " friends ! in vain ye plead, this night 
 I must, attacked, attack the foe ; 
 Your pray'rs I welcome, but I go, 
 
 Awaits me now the unf ought fight I" 
 
108 
 
 RETROSPECT: 
 
 A LITTLE flow'r, 
 
 Only a pale blue flow'r ! 
 What is its magic pow'r ? 
 
 I stand and gaze : 
 And so to me 
 Come back past days, 
 And thoughts of thee, 
 Thee ! as I saw thee first and lov'd thy virgin hour! 
 
 Old feelings wake, 
 Old pulses beat, 
 Old chimes ring sweet, 
 Old voices in my ear the silence break 
 
 I've dropp'd my flow'r ! 
 My pale blue flow'r, 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 109 
 
 The river bears it off it floats away : 
 
 little flow'r ! 
 
 cherish'd flow'r ! 
 
 God grant that I may meet thee, wear thee again 
 one day ! 
 
110 
 
 MY CHILDREN. 
 
 COME round me, children ! Did I, churlish, say 
 Your noise disturb'd my rest ? 
 
 Nay, noise is soothing : noise ye then all day, 
 I spoke in jest. 
 
 Let Ida read aloud her fav'rite book, 
 And Agnes sprawl the floor, 
 
 While Edie pulls Philp's hair with cunning look, 
 And Paul attempts the door. 
 
 What without you would be to me my life ? 
 
 Would life e'en be ? Then stay 
 And cheer me with your merry childish strife 
 
 Passes full soon the day. 
 
Ill 
 
 ON THE EIVER, 
 
 THE pitiless rain comes down again, 
 And sobs and weeps and gushes ; 
 
 The pitiless wind not far behind 
 Taunts the weak wav'ring rushes. 
 
 The roar of fall sounds loud, and all 
 
 The river is awake : 
 The boat I row, I fear me so 
 
 It fetch the turbid lake. 
 
 What voice can still the cruel will 
 
 Of elemental pow'rs ? 
 Whose speech dare brave the curling wave, 
 
 And strew the sea with flow'rs ? 
 
 doubting soul ! Waters but roll 
 
 So far as He permits, 
 Who, at the prow, with fearless brow, 
 
 Undaunted spirit, sits, 
 
112 
 
 ON THE SEA-SHOBE. 
 
 THE tide is out : of sands about 
 The children take possession ; 
 
 Childlike I follow o'er ridge and hollow, 
 And join the child-procession. 
 
 A castle here, a tunnel there, 
 
 A church, a model farm, 
 For pigs of sand a little hand 
 
 Has built a pigsty warm. 
 
 Clear ringing laughter cleaves the air, 
 
 Am I too laughing- I ? 
 Could I but laugh the demon care 
 
 Away, successfully ! 
 
 Children, I thank you one short hour 
 Of mirth to me you've brought ; 
 
 So may you never know the pow'r 
 Of eare-engender'd thought ! 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 113 
 
 Laugh on ! Your castles in the sands 
 
 Build ye while build ye may ; 
 Short time remains ; work of your hands 
 
 Will not outlive the clay ! 
 
114 
 
 A FKAGMENT. 
 
 DISCROWNED Queen ! 
 
 The plaything of misfortune from thy birth ; 
 The shuttlecock of policy ! Toss'd about, 
 Thrown hither and thither ; sacrificed a child 
 To vile intrigue by base usurper planned. 
 Queen ! Who hast born with touching dignity 
 The howls of unchairi'd rabble, hounded on 
 By traitors perjur'd ingrate and foresworn. 
 Who hast been pelted with the jeers and sneers 
 Of venal press, of low and sordid souls 
 Whom never feeling of noblesse obliged 
 To do an action great or generous. 
 I hail thee and salute as I pass by, 
 And kneel and kiss, in fancy, thy royal hand, 
 Ysobel ! Not least of thy right-regal race ! 
 
115 
 
 HAUNTED. 
 
 THE night is near : unspoken fear 
 
 Glow'rs and whispers hate ; 
 Visages grim are looming, dim 
 
 Threatens my coming fate. 
 
 I stir the fire : the bitter ire 
 
 Of furious fiends flames fell : 
 No aid I find ; my madden'd mind 
 
 Makes for itself a hell. 
 
 I strive to pray, to hurl away 
 
 The thoughts that curse the hour 
 
 Vain hope ! I feel the sharp swift steel, 
 I own the Tempter's pow'r. 
 
 The thick black mist will blind me Christ ! 
 
 Grant to me help I fall ! 
 No soul in vain, howe'er the pain, 
 
 Did ever on Thee call. / 
 
116 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS*. 
 
 Is tliat a star, glimm'ring afar, 
 Have the clouds broken say ? 
 
 I hear no more the. full foul roar, 
 The night has pass'cl away. 
 
117 
 
 HOME AT LAST! 
 
 HOME at last ! 
 
 Children wet from the beach, 
 Where the waves curling reach 
 And crawl as if they crav'd to claim the parting 
 past 
 
 Back to your home, 
 
 With dripping garments soak'd in sand, 
 With spades and buckets, hand in hand, 
 Upon the threshold of the door you stand - 
 
 Long-look'd for, here you come ! 
 
 God send ! 
 That at the end 
 
 When Angels are out watching for the flock, 
 Though fiends may mocking mock 
 You shall come home, as now, Christ-won, your 
 way shall wend ! 
 
 92 
 
118 
 
 THOSE WILLOWS. 
 
 THERE is sweet perfume in the air : 
 
 A trailing scent : 
 A cunning fragrance shed by flowers rare : 
 
 I breathe content. 
 
 Shadows of sleep 
 
 Caress me now, and I can challenge peace, 
 And bid all care and care-full carking cease- 
 Wild willows weep ! 
 
 Ye know not rest ; 
 In vain ye weep the gift ye cannot give : 
 
 Your song, at best, 
 Is of that other life that ye may never live, 
 
119 
 
 NEVER AGAIN. 
 
 SAY again shall I see 
 
 The old home 
 
 My childhood's home, 
 Where once I used to be, 
 Where o'er the fields unchecked long time since I 
 
 . could roam ? 
 
 Whom should I find there now ? 
 My mother ? No ; 
 They buried her years ago ; 
 Another fills her place : speak soft, winds, whisper 
 low. 
 
 No welcome waits me why 
 
 Should I return ? 
 I watch the clouds float by, 
 I hear the poplars sigh 
 
 I wait and mourn ! 
 
120 
 
 AT NIGHT. 
 
 WHAT is that foolish cry 
 
 Over the grave ? 
 What voice in agony 
 
 Calls out Save save Y 
 
 Who is it tempts me here 
 
 Forsaken ? 
 Whose speech speaks calm and clear, 
 
 And says : Awaken ! 
 
 How can I wake, when Hell 
 
 Threatens with curse and shout ? 
 
 Sleeping or waking, a tuneless spell 
 Is all about, 
 
121 
 
 THE BKEAK OF MOEK 
 
 THE stars are paling in the sky, 
 A sign of dawn shows in the east, 
 
 Birds half unclose a sleepy eye, 
 
 Flow'rs wait of light the coming feast, 
 
 The mountains, tipp'd with orange hue, 
 Like crown'd king-giants threat'ning stand, 
 
 And seem to gain fresh strength and new, 
 Casting their shadows on the land. 
 
 " How are the mighty falTn!" He comes 
 And overrides their boasting heads ; 
 
 And life and light o'er countless homes, 
 His lavish, bounteous gifts he spreads, 
 
 And now wake one and all. The crow 
 Of vaunting cock sounds loud and shrill, 
 
 The dogs make stir, the cattle low, 
 The herdsman mounts the rising hill. 
 
122 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 The merry milkmaid, pail in hand, 
 Out from the cottage door steps blithe ; 
 
 The yeoman's up and o'er the land, 
 The corn is falling on the scythe. 
 
 I, too, must quit my short-liv'd rest, 
 And play my sorry part this day, 
 
 And start again in ceaseless quest 
 Of peace to charm my pain away. 
 
123 
 
 ON TENBY SANDS. 
 
 'Tis true, wife : yes, I do want rest ; 
 
 All tell me so, and I know it full well. 
 
 For, for these last three months, a cruel sorrow, 
 
 A passionate grief, a heart-consuming care 
 
 Has work'd, worn, worried, wasted so my mind, 
 
 That verily I know not if it be 
 
 I who possess myself. 
 
 And then 
 
 The article I read in that Keview 
 Came on me, tempted, tortur'd, torn with doubt, 
 Like molten lead upon soft, shrinking flesh, 
 And made me cry, with such a cry as should 
 Have pierc'd the very centre-piece of heav'n, 
 Suing for help. 
 
 I think I hardly know, 
 Or rightly understand, the writer's meaning : 
 
124 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 He is a man cleverer far than I, 
 And skill'd in classic lore, able to tell 
 The bearing, force, and sense of every passage 
 And word of Holy Writ. 
 
 But if aright 
 
 I take him in, then, I think, he would have it, 
 That Christ was never Christ, at least, not Christ 
 Such as I know Christ, not the Eternal Word 
 Begotten of, but yet co-equal with, 
 The Father, God- Almighty Christ, not God ? 
 Then where is God, or is there God at all ? 
 
 Come round me, children, kneel npon the sands, 
 And say (for 'tis the hour) the Angelus : 
 Together let us say it 
 
 " In the Name 
 
 Of God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost 
 The Angel of the Lord declared to Mary 
 And she conceiv'd of Holy Ghost : " 
 And she conceiv'd of Holy Ghost ! Enough 
 Enough for me, finish it with your mother ; 
 I rest content. 
 
 I know she did conceive 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 125 
 
 Of God, and He Whom she conceiv'd 
 
 Was Very God of God, Child-God, Man-God, 
 
 God now and ever ! 
 
 Thank you, children, you 
 Have driv'n away the demon doubt from me. 
 Is it not written that He has reveal'd 
 To babes and sucklings mysteries divine, 
 Withheld from hard of heart and proud of mind ? 
 So by your mouths of innocence He has sent 
 Clear message of sweet peace to charm my soul. 
 Now let me rest ! Enjoy His bounteous gifts, 
 Drink in the air, and feast my willing eyes 
 On scenery of sea, and cliff, and coast, 
 And jagged jutting rocks that mock the waves, 
 Beating with foolish, angry, arguing rage 
 Against their unmov'd force : so beat in vain 
 The unwise wisdom of philosophers, 
 The crafty cunning of philosophers, 
 The madden'd malice of philosophers, 
 Against the Eternal Eock ! 
 Now let me rest. 
 
126 
 
 SAINT CATHERINE, 
 
 ANGELS bear her away ! 
 
 Up from earth's sullen shore, 
 Swift be your flight, 
 Heav'n's pain-won light 
 Welcomes her evermore, 
 Waits her the calm of Christ's unending day. 
 
 Well has she fought the fight, 
 Well has she kept the vow, 
 Virgin she swore ; 
 The hellish roar 
 Of foe is silenc'd now, 
 Over the baleful gloom of murky night ! 
 
 Bloodless her face and wan, 
 Still now her limbs and cold, 
 Lifeless she lies, 
 Clos'd the soft eyes 
 That spoke sweet thoughts of old, 
 Whose rays with God's own royal radiance shone, 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 127 
 
 Bear her away ! Though we 
 Were fain to keep her here, 
 With us to stay 
 Bear her away 
 Your willing wings her bier, 
 Your swords her safeguard sure, your love hef 
 canopy ! 
 
128 
 
 SAINT CECILIA. 
 
 SHE strikes her lute the Angels throng 
 
 Around and listen rapt, intent : 
 She pours aloud her wealth of song 
 
 Souls exil'd quit their banishment. 
 
 And through and through Heav'n's vault of spheres, 
 
 Ke-eehoed of infinite space, 
 Each note a perfect chord appears,* 
 
 Bearing of hand divine the trace. 
 
 * Visitors to Pisa will doubtless recollect the Baptistery 
 in which a note sounded by the sacristan below is heard 
 in the dome above as a chord. 
 
129 
 
 HER GKAVE. 
 
 A COTTAGE tliatch'd arid low ; a stile ; 
 
 Two thorn-trees blossoming white and red ; 
 Of ruins arch'd and old a pile, 
 
 Sentinels silent o'er their dead : 
 
 So to our trysting-place I come, 
 
 As fifteen years ago I came ; 
 Thee undisturb'd holds the dark tomb, 
 
 Nothing is left me but thy name. 
 
130 
 
 IN HOC SIGNO VINCES. 
 
 STILL is the night : unwatch'd I wander 
 About the rocks and through the caves 
 
 Earth ! why thy treasures dost thou squander 
 Why feed the clamorous waves ? 
 
 Eipples come stealing o'er the sands ; 
 
 Though light their fall upon the ear, 
 Their coming threatens, hostile bands 
 
 They challenge as they near. 
 
 And still they come and menace still, 
 And search and quarrel for their prey, 
 
 Formless forms of unform'd ill, 
 Working each one its wilful way. 
 
 With terror struck I look around 
 
 For tidal mark for safety token, 
 Vain hope ! An iron coast rock-bound, 
 
 Frowning cliffs, till toil ch'd, unbroken. 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 131 
 
 Must I fall ? Is the fight over ? 
 
 Help comes it not ? Eescue none ? 
 Those fields above me, rich with clover, 
 
 Can I not reach ? Am I undone ? 
 
 Nearer me now ; hungry sea, 
 
 Pause for a moment, wait and listen 
 
 How the moon's glimmer mocks at me ! 
 How the stars glisten ! 
 
 * * & * # 
 
 A flash of fire athwart the sky, 
 
 Light crossing light, a pathway shows, 
 
 That round and up the cliffs on high 
 In safety goes. 
 
 Break, curling waves ! Splash on the beach 
 
 In angry wrangling for your loss ! 
 I scorn your ire, sav'd from your reach 
 
 By sign of cross ! 
 
 10 
 
132 
 
 THE MOTHEE'S PLAINT. 
 
 SHE cried out, " Tell me, sea ! 
 
 Is lie dead, my sailor-boy ? 
 Whom I dandled a babe on my knee, 
 
 The pride of my life and my joy ?" 
 
 And the waves say " No," as they come, 
 And the waves say " Yes," as they go, 
 
 And she wails, as she wanders home, 
 " Ah me ! I shall never know ! 
 
 " sea ! give me back my dead, 
 If dead thou hast got to give ! 
 
 Tearless, heart-tears I shed, 
 Loathing the life I must live !" 
 
 And the waves still answer her " Yes," 
 
 And the waves still answer her " No :" 
 And sign comes never to bless 
 And end her unending distress, 
 And lighten her pitiless woe, 
 
133 
 
 FOLLY. 
 
 I SOUGHT and found the wizard's cave, 
 And ask'd the 'old lore-learned man 
 My horoscope in stars to scan 
 
 And probe the secrets of the grave. 
 
 " Mount up that hill, niy son," said he, 
 " And on the summit of its brow 
 Trac'd out in fiery letters thou 
 
 Shalt read thy tale of destiny." 
 
 I chose the path he pointed out, 
 I started at the break of day, 
 I toil'd along my weary way 
 w shades of night are all about, 
 
 And so I know full well that I 
 
 Shall never top the enchanted hill 
 Vain man's attempts to learn the will 
 
 He shrouds in veil of mystery. 
 
 102 
 
134 
 
 THE BIRD'S SONG. 
 
 A BIRD came down from Heav'n and perched upon 
 
 A tree : 
 And trill'd its lay of light, in tuneful tone 
 
 Of melody. 
 
 The tree spread branches far and wide : beneath 
 
 Two lovers came, 
 And whisper'd low and vow'd of truth till death 
 
 Love's endless flame. 
 
 They parted ; never heard the sweet bird's song : 
 
 Then chanc'd to come 
 A mother dreaming of the son, bold, strong, 
 
 Away from home* 
 
 She miss'd the bird : a brother came and wept, 
 
 And lingered there, 
 And mus'd and murmur'd of the spot where slept 
 
 His sister fair. 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 135 
 
 He went his way : the bird sang still : the tattle 
 
 Next I heard 
 Of merry children, making idle prattle 
 
 And joking word, 
 
 They scamper'd off. * * 
 
 * * A lonely outcast came, 
 
 Seeking for rest, 
 Her brow was branded with the mark of shame, 
 
 Unlov'd, unblest. 
 
 She sat awhile ; soft the bird's note and tender, 
 
 He carolTd peace, 
 He promis'd hope and spoke of life's surrender, 
 
 Of soul's release : 
 
 And still she sat spell-bound, and ever listened 
 
 The Heav'n-sent lay, 
 
 While stars grew dim, and faint and fainter 
 glisten'd, 
 
 At dawn of day. 
 
136 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Then back to HeaVn the bird his flight did wing, 
 
 His task was done ; 
 
 Angels came down hark, while the Angels sing, 
 " She who was lost is found, is sav'd, her crowu 
 has won !" 
 
137 
 
 TOGETHER. 
 
 " LOVE," she said, "if I were dead 
 
 And grass grew o'er my grave, 
 And wild-flow'rs crown'd my low-laid head, 
 
 And trees their tribute gave ; 
 
 " What would you do, tender and true, 
 
 If death did claim his right, 
 How live alone the long days through, 
 
 How pass each day and night ?" 
 
 " If that should be, sweet Love," said he, 
 
 " If thou wert torn away, 
 And I were left in misery 
 
 " To mourn each night and day ; 
 
 " I know not now the burden how 
 
 Myself could bear alone, 
 God grant that I should also die 
 
 And death have both his own." 
 * # * 
 
138 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 The storm's hot rage doth battle wage 
 Howling on cavernous shore, 
 
 Let the waves break they will not wake 
 Who sleep for evermore ! 
 
139 
 
 A VALIANT BOY. 
 
 A CHILD sat on a grassy slope, 
 Arid, child-like, car'd for nought ; 
 
 " Childhood," he said, " is time of hope "- 
 Or said, or thought. 
 
 I watch'd his revels on the bank, 
 
 I caught his fearless laugh ; 
 He dared and fought the nettles rank 
 
 With ready staff. 
 
 To right, to left, he struck all round, 
 
 His enemies laid low, 
 And made the watching hills resound 
 
 With merry blow. 
 
 A valiant boy ! no hesitation, 
 
 No fear of consequence ; 
 He'd fight, without a thought, a nation 
 
 Encamp'd in tents. 
 
140 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 So fight thy foes, child, ever, 
 
 Nor ever stay 
 In God's right cause thy best endeavour 
 
 To win thy way, 
 
141 
 
 AN OLD SONG. 
 
 SING me the song you us'd to sing, 
 
 The song I lov'd so well, 
 Its cadence sweet charms me like ring 
 
 Of some melodious bell. 
 
 It brings back thoughts of buried days, 
 
 Old recollections waken, 
 My fever'd spirit once more strays 
 
 Through paths forgot, forsaken. 
 
 Sing it again and yet once more, 
 Perchance there may not be 
 
 " Once more " to me this side the shore 
 That bounds eternity. 
 
142 
 
 A QUESTION. 
 
 WHAT was the promise that I made, 
 
 Or did I even promise make ? 
 Should you in truth be not afraid 
 
 Your life on word of mine to stake ? 
 
 Say, dare you trust me with a trust 
 As trust of child unknowing guile, 
 Who chases doubt with ready srnile 
 
 When told no reason, save " You must ?" 
 
 And can you link your lot with mine 
 And brave the future doubtful, dim 
 
 With many a strange portentous sign, 
 With many a danger-signal grim ? 
 
 Have you the courage firm to face 
 Such shades of chance your path may cross, 
 Fix'd in your love, spurning all loss 
 
 Of world's success in worldly race ? 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 143 
 
 And follow with me good or ill, 
 Wealth welcoming or dire distress, 
 
 Careless of aught so you fulfil 
 
 The virgin vow, soul-vow' d to bless 
 
 The hour that makes of us two one, 
 The hour that turns to pleasure pain, 
 That images a time-trac'd train 
 
 Of future fancies fondly spun ? 
 
 Is this the meaning of the glance 
 You threw upon me, passing by ? 
 
 Kay, leave me not, look not askance 
 I read the truth in truth's own eye. 
 
144 
 
 ITS ANSWER 
 
 WHY do you ask ? 
 I love, and yet I know not if I love : 
 
 Ungracious task, 
 My honest single heart to probe and prove 
 
 I love indeed, 
 With such a love as words are poor to tell ; 
 
 In hour of need, 
 God grant you love me even half as well ! 
 
 But still I do not know 
 If I have love, love such as you may mean ; 
 
 Nor could I ever shew 
 Or let my love, my true deep love, be seen. 
 
 Then question not, 
 
 Xor try my soul with foolish idle doubt, 
 In truth my love I could not live without, 
 
 Nor bear my lot* 
 
145 
 
 A REVERIE. 
 
 SOUND of hope ! hope of sign ! 
 
 little light that shinest red ! 
 welcome spark of love divine, 
 
 Watch keeping o'er our watching dead ! 
 
 breaking clouds that usher dawn ! 
 
 trees that greet the sway of wind ! 
 dewdrops scatter'd o'er green lawn, 
 
 By fairy garments left behind ! 
 
 soft, sad sigh of breaking heart, 
 
 Unnotic'd in thy silent sorrow ! 
 piercing pang of driving dart, 
 
 That seem'st from Hell thy sting to borrow ! 
 
 haunting faces, that I thought 
 
 Long since were clias'd away and banish'd ! 
 memories, too dearly bought, 
 
 Of joys no sooner priz'd than vanish'd ! 
 
146 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 I am myself once more, once more I tread 
 The path I trod a boy in years gone by, 
 
 I scent once more the wild flow'rs in the mead, 
 Once more the lark makes music in the sky ; 
 
 And I am back in childhood's arms once more, 
 And childish pleasures pleasure give to me, 
 
 And all things are just as they were before 
 The day that broke in cloud of misery. 
 
 The brook flows still over the self-same stones 
 Its waters cover'd when I jump'd it last ; 
 
 And blames the bank in those unmeaning tones 
 That us'd to vex me in the days long past : 
 
 Now I can smile ; why vex myself at babble 
 Of idle stream its time-worn track e'er tracing, 
 
 Fretting against just curb, like foolish rabble 
 Of fools their unjust course of folly racing ? 
 
 I watch unmov'd : and, listless on the grass, 
 Fling tufts into the air and count them fall, 
 
 Let the rude waters taunt me as they pass. 
 And, inattentive, answer not their call. 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS, 147 
 
 Whistle the wild fowl from the sedgy reeds 
 Winging his course towards the misty mere ; 
 
 Live through again a day of boyish deeds 
 A boy without reproach, without a fear. 
 
 So wipe out pain of past with present peace, 
 That past pain seems herald of coming joy, 
 
 Past trials sweeter make the sweet release, 
 The calm repose without aught of alloy. 
 
 Only I sometimes wonder now, as I 
 
 Eevisit each dear old familiar spot, 
 And ask this question of the soft wind's sigh 
 
 Am I indeed my very self or not ? 
 
 11 
 
148 
 
 AFTER THE STOEM. 
 
 THE storm is over now, the thunder's roar 
 Has died in echoes faint along the shore ; 
 The last fierce lightning-flash has riv'n the sky, 
 Scaring the glance of timid passer-by ; 
 No more against the anxious quivering pane 
 Battles in angry tones the hail-mixed rain, 
 The clouds have parted see the gleam of blue, 
 Mark the rich rainbow's parti-colour'd hue. 
 
 The cattle quit the shelter of the trees, 
 
 O'er honied flow'ers I hear the hum of bees, 
 
 The thrush shakes off the storm-drops from his 
 
 wings, 
 
 And tells contentment in the song he sings, 
 Children swarm out from many a cottage round, 
 And fill the air with many a merry sound, 
 With many a merry gambol prove the truth 
 Happiest of times the happy time of youth, 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 149 
 
 And it is sweet to sit upon the brink 
 
 Of stream, and hear its rushing waters think, 
 
 And watch the chatter of each tiny wave, 
 
 And image out of ev'ry swirl a grave, 
 
 Nod to the answering bow of wind-touch'd reed, 
 
 And fanciful on fancied fancies feed. 
 
 Till all unconscious grown of time and place, 
 
 Sense gives the rein to nonsense for a space, 
 
 And strange old shapes of childhood's strange old 
 
 friends, 
 A strange procession sense with nonsense blends. 
 
 There sprouting from the hedgerow on the bank, 
 
 That lifts up the canal, 'mid nettles rank 
 
 Th' aspiring bean-stalk shoots its way full soon > 
 
 And fastens on the edge of horned moon ; 
 
 See Jack slips down and waits his foe's descent, 
 
 His subtle mind on mischief dire intent ; 
 
 A bargeman passes swish his whip goes crack ! 
 
 Down tumbles bean-stalk vanish Giant Jack. 
 
 Then cunning Puss-in-Boots comes on the scene, 
 And pops his whisker'd face the leaves between : 
 
 112 
 
150 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS, 
 
 "Dear Marquis/' so methinks I hear him say, 
 
 " Why waste in idle ease the hours away ? 
 
 In lordly castle gathered the guests all 
 
 Wait for your lordship to commence the ball." 
 
 Flash ! bang ! a smell of powder, sound of gun 
 
 Where's Puss-in-boots ? scamper, poor pussy, run ! 
 
 What form of loveliness enchanting this 
 Whose lips provoke, whose eyes forbid, a kiss ? 
 Eoyal robes, a coronet, softly on the grass 
 Trip dainty feet in slippers cas'd of glass, 
 My little Cinderella ! Favorite pet 
 Of all the dream-land friends I ever met, 
 Come, let me feel the magic of thy pow'r, 
 Sit out a dance and spend with me an hour ! 
 
 Ding-dong, ding-dong ! What, eight o'clock ! bless 
 
 me! 
 
 I'd quite forgotten all about my tea ! 
 " My little, shoeless, ragged girl, come say 
 Whatever brings you out to-night this way ? 
 And why this whimp'ring cry, this down-hung 
 
 head T 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 151 
 
 " Oh ! mother if I came home late she said 
 She'd send me, without supper, off to bed !" 
 " Poor trembling child, here's sixpence," let me act 
 The prince's part and fiction turn to fact. 
 
 She's off! Now, like my Cinderella, I 
 To soften heart of waiting host must try. 
 
152 
 
 FAILURE. 
 
 I STARTED on my way and plann'd 
 The coming journey of my life, 
 
 The distant mountains loom'd so grand 
 I pictured me no time of strife ; 
 
 But mapp'd my future out of peace, 
 And cheer'd myself with sunlit view 
 
 Of varied landscape, through green trees, 
 Whose changing shades look'd ever new. 
 
 And said, " I will go here or there, 
 And this shall be and that shall not, 
 
 And I will please me ev'rywhere, 
 Unchequer'd ever be my lot." 
 
 I will drink out the cup of bliss 
 That sinless pleasures mix and fill, 
 
 'Twere folly proffer'd sweets to miss 
 'Twere madness aught of joy to kill. 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 153 
 
 So I set out resolv-'d to choose 
 
 My path, and rove or here or there, 
 
 Those hills in sight how could I lose 
 My way, why think a thought of care. 
 ***** 
 
 The sun is nearing to the west, 
 
 The noon of life is passing now, 
 Weary and worn I crave to rest 
 
 My tired limbs, my aching brow. 
 
 I long to win the mountain-peak 
 And sleep secure beneath its shade, 
 
 No more for fleeting joys I seek, 
 ]STo more of pleasure ask the aid. 
 
 Bitter the cup so sweet did taste, 
 Wither'd the flow'rs I plucked and dead, 
 
 My life seems all a barren waste 
 Barren as rocks on which I tread. 
 
 lost illusions of my youth 
 
 That shone so fair, so soon did perish ! 
 What have ye brought to me in truth, 
 
 What have ye left for me to cherish ? 
 
154 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Over and gone the pleasant dream 
 
 That should have been so sweet in dreaming ! 
 
 Over the past that I did deem 
 
 Would prove more bright e'en than its seeming ! 
 
 Over and gone no, not all hope, 
 Still there awaits me dawn of light, 
 
 A ray across the far hills' slope 
 
 Seen dimly through the shades of night. 
 
155 
 
 A LESSON. 
 
 WHY dost them say, " It might have been/' 
 And mourn for what can never be ? 
 What comfort can it give to thee 
 
 To search the pages lost between ? 
 
 E'en if thou there could'st surely read, 
 
 " It would have been/' instead of " might/' 
 To know that thou hadst guess'd aright, 
 
 Of satisfaction were poor meed; 
 
 Thy hated past let it alone, 
 
 Stir not the ashes of dead fire, 
 
 Eein in the longing, fierce desire 
 To call thee back the morning gone* 
 
 For even if it had come true, 
 
 Thy "might have been," how canst thou tell 
 What further curse of fate-sent spell 
 
 Had caus'd thee unknown ills to rue ? 
 
156 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Learn tliou this wholesome lesson well, 
 " What has not been can never be, 
 Whatever is is best for thee, 
 
 The future God alone can tell." 
 
157 
 
 SPRET.E INJUBIA fOBMJE. 
 
 " FOOL," she said, " you count it much 
 To boast a pure unsullied heart, 
 
 Untainted by the tempter's touch, 
 Unknowing of a human smart. 
 
 " You hold yourself, in pride, aloof 
 From ev'ry weakness, calm, secure : 
 
 You cry aloud that you are proof 
 
 From woman's smile, from siren's lure. 
 
 " You live in your cold world alone, 
 And wrap yourself in garb serene 
 
 Of intellectual pride, unwon 
 
 Of woman's speech, of woman's mien. 
 
 " Women ! you scorn them, pass them by, 
 And wonder how a man can fall, 
 
 Caught by a sinful snaring eye, 
 Charm'd by a harlot's sensual call ! 
 
158 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 " Yet shall there come to you a day, 
 A day of days, to try your steel ; 
 
 A thaw of thaws to melt away 
 
 The snows that round your heart congeal. 
 
 " So I, despis'd, contemn'd, may live 
 To see your pride humbled in dust, 
 
 I will my woman's wrongs forgive, 
 Forget the spurning of my lust." 
 
 I answer'd her, " You do me wrong 
 (And you I never wrong'd in thought), 
 
 I did but listen to your song, 
 
 And honest homage to you brought. 
 
 " I watch VI you as one watches whom 
 He loves with pure and stainless love, 
 
 A tenant of the silent tomb, 
 A star in firmament above. 
 
 " But should there come this day to me, 
 Which you in bitterness foretell, 
 
 And I no longer master be 
 
 Of all those pow'rs I prize so well, 
 
VEKSES MISCELLANEOUS. 159 
 
 " I do not doubt but to my life 
 
 Strength will be giv'n, the ruling will, 
 
 And in love's ever-varying strife, 
 Vanquish'd, I shall be victor still," 
 
V 
 
 160 
 
 EABLY IN THE MORNING. 
 
 A LITTLE maid went out and stray'd 
 About the fields and through the grass, 
 
 Bound her soft cheeks the soft wind play'd, 
 Over her head the clouds did pass. 
 
 The lark said, " Listen : while dewdrops glisten, 
 Before the sun rises I'll sing you a song ;" 
 
 " Come," said the river, " while bulrushes quiver, 
 To the sea I will bear you swiftly along." 
 
 " Stay," said the flowers, " this morn it is ours, 
 Sweet is the scent from our opening leaves ;" 
 
 " Weep," said the willows, " the long angry billows 
 Of evil are passing, rest under our eaves." 
 
 " Watch," said the church-clock, striking the hour, 
 "You cannot foresee what each moment may 
 bring ;" 
 
 " Climb," said the ivy, that round the old tow'r 
 (Parasite helpless) did closely cling. 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 161 
 
 " Wait," said the owl, " the sexton with showl 
 Is coming here early to dig out a grave ;" 
 
 "Die," said the raven, "the priest, shorn and 
 
 shaven, 
 Will bury you, o'er you the cypress will wave.'* 
 
 "Pray," said the Angels, "the dawn quick is 
 
 breaking, 
 
 The sign of the Child-Christ is seen in the east, 
 The pow'r of the Child-Christ the star- worlds is 
 
 shaking, 
 
 Pray the Child-Christ do bid you a guest to his 
 feast," 
 
 
162 
 
 TBOUBLE. 
 
 WHY do you weep, my child ? 
 Is it a broken toy 
 That mars your childish joy ? 
 Or has some idle boy 
 
 Teas'd you, and all your pleasure spoil'd ? 
 
 Or did you careless fall 
 
 In trying too high to climb, 
 
 And bruise some little limb 
 Against the rude, rough- surfaced wall ? 
 
 Does the smart hurt you much, 
 
 Too tender to touch ? 
 Nay, do not wince, the pain 
 
 Is less to bear, 
 
 If you do not fear 
 The kind firm hand that must press you again. 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 163 
 
 Let the cautery burn, 
 Let the seething flesh grow numb ; 
 The fiercer the pain 
 The sooner again 
 Will the healthy flesh return ; 
 
 The sooner again 
 Will the soul speak that sorrow struck dumb. 
 
164 
 
 MY TIEESOME CHILDEEK 
 
 WHAT do you want, children ? You 
 Are always troubling with your wants, 
 
 You always wish for something new, 
 
 Your " something " is a ghost that haunts. 
 
 I cannot even take a nap, 
 
 I never do return from walk, 
 But up you all are on my lap 
 
 And all at once begin to talk. 
 
 Tell you another story now ? 
 
 Suppose you think of one for me 
 Just for a change ? There, in a row 
 
 Sit each of you on either knee. 
 
 Tell me a story each in turn, 
 
 And if, while listening, I should fall 
 
 Asleep, you practically will learn 
 
 How down fell Humpty-Dumpty and all. 
 
165 
 
 A MADMAN'S CONTRIBUTIONS. 
 I. 
 
 ONLY trouble and toil, 
 
 Only toil and trouble, 
 Nothing but moil and spoil 
 
 And scuffle and shuffle and double ! 
 
 If the sun would only set 
 That glaring intrusive sun ! 
 
 If I could only forget 
 The day that is done ! 
 
 If I could only undo 
 
 The past that keeps haunting me ever ! 
 If regret would only go, 
 
 And leave and return to me never ! 
 
 Only trouble and toil, 
 
 And foolish rest-killing mirth 
 
 Would I were but a son of the soil- 
 Would I had died at my birth ! 
 122 
 
166 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 II. 
 
 What do they say, 
 
 Those vexing ghosts that on the threshold flitter, 
 And ever come and go but never stay, 
 And weary me with false unmeaning play, 
 
 Memories bitter ? 
 
 What do they want, 
 Plaguing my path with tiresome tireless worry, 
 
 Grim goblins, gaunt ? 
 Front them and face see how away they scurry ! 
 
 But still come back again 
 
 And still surround. 
 Could I but cease from pain ! 
 
 cold damp ground, 
 In thy unwelcome welcome is peace found ? 
 
 Eetreat is none 
 From their rude prying gaze ? 
 
 What ! Are they gone ? 
 
 No ghosts am I alone ? 
 
 Mere shadowy outlines seen through moon's dim 
 haze ? 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 167 
 
 Come back, friendly comrades of my youth ! 
 Come back, if ghosts I care not, ghosts yet friends 
 in truth ! 
 
 III. 
 
 Yes, you shall know 
 All I can tell, if you follow me now, 
 Follow through tangled brier and brake, 
 Follow while trees their branches shake ; 
 
 Follow, follow, 
 Follow through hollow ; 
 We shall see soon 
 The passionless moon 
 Shine and shed over us light from her brow. 
 
 Follow, follow, 
 
 The twit of swallow, 
 Hark as it calls us away, away ! 
 
 We must not rest 
 
 (I dare not rest), 
 Soon will the sun's light wake up the day. 
 
168 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Follow, follow, 
 
 Through brake and hollow, 
 Through mud-smirch'd thicket and broken fence : 
 
 Follow, follow, 
 
 Who would not follow 
 When Angels are calling and beckoning us hence ? 
 
 IV. 
 
 The children are all gone, I call 
 
 In vain. Echo answers " in vain," 
 Where are they hidden ? Echo, answering unbidden, 
 
 Says " never again again." 
 
 " Come, little faces/' I cry, " your traces 
 Are marked on my soul " " my soul," 
 
 " Come to me gladly, come to me sadly, 
 Make me whole." Echo says " whole." 
 
 " Come, I am waiting, all things are fleeting ; 
 
 Come to me, come back to me; 
 Come, I am seeking you." Echo speaking 
 
 Says, "let things be, let things be." 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 169 
 
 " Come, I am dying, I cry for you crying." 
 Echo says " crying/' (" Echo, be still !") 
 
 " Come to me now, before the white snow 
 
 Of death's winter is round me, death's hand 
 grasps me chill. 
 
 " Pray for me, pray for me, hard is the way for me; 
 
 Pray for me, cruel and bitter the strife ; 
 So you will fight for me, swift will the night for me 
 
 Pass, and the new morn will bring me fresh life, 
 
 " What ! Am I dreaming ? dream, then thy 
 seeming 
 
 Is sweeter, far sweeter to me," " to me " 
 " Echo, be dumb, thy inquisitive hum 
 
 Makes it truly a trouble to be," " to be !" 
 
 " I sit here alone." Echo answers " alone." 
 * # j* # # 
 
170 
 
 EEQUIESCAT. 
 
 " EOSES red for her hair," she said, 
 
 " All on a summer's day, 
 Eoses white "ah me ! that night 
 
 Her soul it pass'd away. 
 
 Ashes to ashes ! Dust to dust ! 
 
 Naught from The Curse can save : 
 Waits one and all the maggot-rust, 
 
 Yawns for each corpse the grave. 
 
 So ! But the grace of Christ's sweet face 
 Can spare from endless loss 
 
 Mary ! did one e'er miss Thy Son, 
 Who dying caught His Cross ? 
 
 Eest then in peace, sav'd soul ! And cease 
 
 From trouble, sorrow, pain; 
 Passes full soon of night the noon, 
 
 Breaks the true morn again. 
 
171 
 
 NEVEBMORE, 
 
 THE storm howls wild without 
 I sit within by the fire-light's blaze, 
 Warmed by the flaming flame, I gaze 
 Through window-fence at the shimm'ring haze 
 
 That gathers all about ; 
 
 Let the storm shout ! 
 
 Let the wind rave 
 
 And clamour with noisy shriek, 
 And entrance crave 
 
 Through each cranny and creak, 
 And mingle reproachful cries with the out-heard 
 boom of the wave ! 
 
 Safe in a cozy chair, 
 
 I cast away all care, 
 And laugh at the foolish roaring 
 Of wind and wave outpouring 
 
172 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Angry reproaches and vain regrets, 
 Eegretful wailings and fretful sighs, 
 While a thickening gloom on the waters lies 
 
 And the sun in a cloud-bank sets. 
 
 In the twilight dim 
 I can just descry, 
 On the billows borne-by, 
 The outline faint, 
 Strange and quaint, 
 
 Of a boat floating away towards the pale sun's 
 dying rim. 
 
 When the mad wind's riot 
 For a space is quiet, 
 And hush'd the wild waves' noise, 
 
 I almost think I can hear 
 The sound of a child's small voice, 
 
 In accents sweet and clear, 
 
 Begging for shelter and rest for one short night's 
 rest here. 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 173 
 
 And I rise from my cozy chair, 
 
 And I leave the warm fire-side, 
 And I brave the cold bleak air, 
 
 And I heed not the flowing tide, 
 And I call and warn the boat, 
 
 In passionate note, 
 
 Of the sunken rock, and whirlpool devouring 
 That round and round, in relentless scouring, 
 Seeks its prey far and wide. 
 
 And I look for the child, whose cry 
 I heard outside in the storm, 
 
 Its little form 
 Should surely be seen close by. 
 
 But the boat heeds me not 
 Still in the twilight dim, 
 Of the pale sun's dying rim, 
 Onwards it floats in silence, it nears the fatal spot. 
 
 And I cannot find, 
 Though I search the livelong night, 
 Though I wait for morning's light, 
 The little child whose cry I heard o'er the wailing 
 wind. 
 
174 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 For me the warm fire-side 
 
 May wait for ever in vain, 
 For I cannot forget the boat that the tide 
 
 Bore away and brought not again. 
 For me the cozy chair 
 
 Need never again be set, 
 
 For I never again may forget 
 The cry of the little child that still rings in my ear, 
 
 That I still can sometimes hear, 
 When all sounds of earth are hush'd save the sound 
 
 of midnight pray'r. 
 
175 
 
 THE NEW BABY. 
 
 YES, children, it is true, 
 Quite true 
 While you 
 
 Last night were all asleep, 
 The Angels came 
 Tapping at the window-frame, 
 And brought a little baby for us to keep. 
 
 There she lies, 
 With clos'd eyes, 
 
 By poor mamma who's very ill to-day ; 
 One little kiss from each 
 Then come away, 
 Out to play 
 And pick up shells with Pappy on the beach: 
 
176 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 What name did the Angels give her, 
 When they brought her across the liver 
 And left her, a living soul for ever, 
 In our charge for a little while ; 
 And bade us, with many a loving smile, 
 Start her upon the narrow road 
 That leads to God ? 
 
 I'm not quite sure, but I think they said, 
 
 As they tenderly laid her upon the bed, 
 
 That St. Joseph had told them to tell me 
 
 That, if we wish'd it, he would be 
 
 Her Godfather ; so you see 
 
 We shall probably call her Josephine, 
 
 When the sacred drops on her forehead shine. 
 
 " Josephine '" too long a name i 
 
 And not a pretty one ? Fie, for shame ! 
 
 Well, we can alter it if you like, 
 
 We can cut off the first three letters and .strike 
 
 Out the " N " now read it for me 
 
 Effie ? Well, Effie it shall be. 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 So morning and evening when you pray 
 And thank God for giving you one more day, 
 Pray for poor little Effie too, 
 Who has many a trial to go through 
 Before she can cross the river again, 
 And cast aside her burden of pain, 
 Before she can reach the opposite shore 
 Where the Angels are waiting her evermore. 
 
178 
 
 A LULLABY. 
 
 WHAT, still awake, my child ? 
 Do thy little eyes still peep ? 
 I thought to find thee asleep : 
 
 What breaks thy rest ? 
 Not the wind wild, 
 Tor it wails not now 
 O'er the steep hill's brow. 
 
 Safe in each nest 
 
 Each little fledgeling nestles and thou 
 Canst thou not sleep, sheltered on Mother's breast ? 
 
 Did some untender hand 
 
 Eouse thee from sluinber soft ? 
 Or voices > heard too oft, 
 Of guests departing Wake thee ? 
 Of fays importunate make thee 
 Hearer unwilling 
 Of tuneful, trilling, 
 Tinkling, tickling, trickling, thrilling 
 Melodies softly sung by an unseen fairy band ? 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 179 
 
 Is not thy Mother's voice 
 
 Able to still 
 
 The foolish unreasoning noise 
 Of creatures, who never may know the power of 
 reasoning will ? 
 
 Fret not thy little soul ! 
 Let the light of yon star 
 Chase from thee far 
 
 Fanciful thoughts thou canst not control, 
 Imaginations unchilclish that crowd in a feverish 
 roll ! 
 
 Do not fear, 
 
 Mother is near ; 
 
 O'er thee bending, 
 
 Gently tending, 
 Sweet her song be in thy ear : 
 
 Angels bless thee, 
 
 Soft caress thee, 
 Guard thy infant slumbers here ! 
 
 13 
 
180 
 
 THE EIGHT COMPANION, 
 
 THEY stand around, and speak in accents low ; 
 Shuddering, as thought comes of the fearful night, 
 Through which their souls have pass'd unhurt, 
 
 unscath'd. 
 
 They say " He stirs not, shows no look of life, 
 His unclos'd eyes perceive not the grey dawn 
 Of coming day, whose signs seen through the pane 
 Kindle anew fresh hopes in sinking breasts, 
 And drive away thoughts of unholy strife." 
 
 But even as they whisper of his death, 
 And wonder of the spirit, fierce, untam'd, 
 That pass'd away in such congenial storm, 
 'Mid shrieks of ever-growing, gaining wind, 
 That raged about the ancient battlements, 
 nd waged war on the ancient battlements, 
 nd angered all the ancient battlements, 
 And whirled through all the loopholes of the turrets, 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. ISi 
 
 And wax'd brave through the loopholes of the turrets, 
 And laugh'd at the weak strength of the old turrets, 
 And toss'd the ivy in contemptuous wrath, 
 The cow'ring ivy in compassionate wrath, 
 As scorning such a wither'd, worthless foe, 
 As if it scorned so torn and tatter'd a foe. 
 
 " It was in such a storm as that/' so spake 
 
 The faithful old grey-bearded seneschal, 
 
 " Long years have pass'd since then, one Christmas 
 
 Eve 
 
 The old Lord keeping the old custom up, 
 The heathenish custom of his heathen race, 
 Swore oath upon the gilded head of boar, 
 Swore oath on oath (0 custom curs'd of oaths !) 
 That he would put to death (0 devilish oath !) 
 Such strangers as might cross his path that night 
 Or seek and claim his hospitality." 
 
 " Hush !" said another, " speak not of that night, 
 Even to think of which does make one's blood 
 Kim cold, and curdle in contracting veins, 
 Or you, perchance, may wake the dead himself, 
 
 132 
 
182 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 I could have sworn, even as you were speaking, 
 That light flash'd swift from out those fiery eyes, 
 Those staring, glaring, fix'd, fierce, fiery eyes, 
 As bidding you to hold your peace. 
 
 Why conies not 
 His Son, Knight Sintram ? He should have "been 
 
 here, 
 
 Returned from the old Castle of the Moon, 
 Before this hour. Go, bid the watchman climb 
 The watch-tow'r and see if he can see aught 
 Of him." 
 
 VOICES IN THE- AIR. 
 
 Pray'rs have been pray'd, 
 And Masses said, 
 And beads told, 
 In churches old 
 By men bold 
 And many a timid maiden ; 
 
 In convent cell, 
 At sound of bell 
 That speaks peace to hearts sorrowful and sin-laden. 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 183 
 
 But in spite of all 
 
 That has been done, 
 We cannot call 
 The day won, 
 
 Till to the father returns from the fight victorious 
 his son. 
 
 " A horseman now rides up from out the pass, 
 His form is like Knight Sintram's, but there hangs 
 A mist or cloud about him, surely he 
 Is wearing armour of a plain esquire, 
 Not clad in knightly mail " 
 
 " So, so then it is he, 
 
 For when he left us yestermorn, he said, 
 
 * The time of trial is at hand, and I 
 
 Have need of armour, as befits my calling, 
 
 (Although I go to fight no bodily foe,) 
 
 Give me a suit : then chanced to come to hand 
 
 The armour which Weigand the Slender wore 
 
 The day he first look'd on Verena's face 
 
 So now this is Knight Sintrain." 
 
184 VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 " But as I see or see not through the cloud 
 That hangs about him, there appears to be 
 A wreath of red leaves crowning his horse's head : 
 Such wreath Knight Sintram never would have had 
 Put on his horse, humblest of sinful men." 
 
 " So, so it is he then, for as I saddled 
 
 His horse for him, I heard, or thought I heard, 
 
 Sweet voices in the air, around me singing, 
 
 f Crown, crown his horse, deck him with leaves of 
 
 triumph; 
 The good Knight now rides forth to victory !' " 
 
 Knight Sintram passes through the Castle gate, 
 
 Knight Sintram's spurs ring upon the stone stair, 
 
 And Skovmark follows him with joyous bark 
 
 Old Biorn, rising on his bed of death, 
 
 Glares on the startled, stammering watchers round, 
 
 And speaks in accents of another world : 
 
 " He comes, he conies my son I know he comes; 
 
 But who comes with him? Look you all, good people, 
 
 Though Gotthard Lenz and Euddlieb pray for me, 
 
 Although Verena tell her beads for me, 
 
VERSES MISCELLANEOUS. 185 
 
 Though Masses have been offered up for me, 
 Though God's own Mother intercede for me, 
 If Sintram bring the Little Master with him, 
 The grinning, loathsome Little Master with him, 
 Then am I lost to all Eternity ! 
 
 #;#### 
 
 " The cloud ! wrap me round, thou gentle cloud 
 Praise be to God for this, my son ! my son ! 
 It is the Eight Companion, sweet, pale Death !" 
 
 THE END. 
 
 E. WASHSOURNE, PRINTER, 18 PATERNOSTER RO\V, LONDON'. 
 
-? N 
 
KI158930