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(tonglisi) fijiic5
COLLECTION OF ENGLISH POETKY
OF THE PRESEKT DAY.
AUKANGED ItY THE
liEV. liOBElJT H. BxiYXES, M.A.
Editor of the " Lyra Anglicana "
LONDON
II U U L S T ON AND W 11 I G U T
(i.j, PATEUNOdTliU now
MUCCCLXV.
LOS VON :
PRINTED BY J. AND W. RIDER,
BARTHOLOMEW CLOSE.
I 1^
153^-,
TO THE RIGUT llEVEKEND
THE LOED BISHOr OF OXFOED,
Chancellor of (he Most Noble the Order of the Garter,
(Ln-;itrful Jilfmorn of numii ^liiiiiucsscs,
■^alitb bffp Jlcsjjftt imiJ Jlcbcrcnt ^^ffrction,
THIS COLLECTION
or
WITH HIS LOIiDSIIIP'S FEIiMISSION,
IS INSCTITBED.
PREFACE.
The following Collection of " English Lyrics "
is intended as a companion volume to " Lyra
Auglicana." The very large measiire of success
which attended the pul)lication of the "Lyra"
suggested the idea of the present Book, whilst it
abundantly confirmed the remarks I there ventured
to make as to the value of really good Hymns, and
their ahidinu; intiuence on the Heart and Life. And
it iris liecause I have so deep and growing a ct»n-
viction of tlie power of this influence, lliat 1 regard
it as no light privilege to have been jxaiiiitted in
any degi'ee eitlier to awaken or strcngtluii, in
earnest and tlioughtful minds, tlie sense nf ils
real and practical imjxjrtance.
viii Preface.
The greatest Christian Poet of our land and
age has sung to us of those who, amid toils and
sorrows, —
" Ply their daily task with busier feet,
Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat."
And this language is no exaggeration whatsoever.
There is a marvellous power of consolation and
of strength about true Poetry, lighting up as it
does, with its own special briglitness, that which
often seems to be material and conmionplace,
and bringing home to us, in the way easiest of
all to be remembered, the great lessons God
would have us learn amid the trials and discipline
of our earthly life.
Most men, I suppose, who have any claim to be
considered thoughtful at all, have at certain times
of their history felt the force of this power of which
I speak. Amid the multitudinous forms of beauty
and delight in tlie world around ; amid the shadows
and the stillness when we go forth to meditate at
eventide; in the darkened chamber of sickness, or
in the hour of bitter sorrow, who of us does not
know what it is to have his soul uplifted, comforted,
Preface. ix
or made strong, l)y the familiar strains of one to
whom God lias vouchsafed the high gift of Poetry
and Song ?
And in these days of luirry and excitement,
when men's powers and energies are taxed to the
uttermost iu the various callings they pursue,
and when comparatively few have time or even
inclination to enter on a long and systematic
study of English Poetry for themselves, it can
hardly Ije a useless or unimportant task to gather
together, within the compass of a single volume,
choice gems uf Thuught and of Expression, which
may serve to gladden many a ^^•cary hour, and
suggest ideas of Beautv and of Truth.
The special feature of the Collection now
ofiered to the reader consists in the fact that a
large numlier of the I'ocms appear fur the lirst
time in print, while tlie rest, so far as I know,
have never as yet found a place in any other
volume, excepting the Authfirs' <i\\n jiuhlications,
from which they luux', Ly kind ]»cniiissi(ui, liccu
extracted.
It (»nlv remains for me lo acknowledLie, with
X Preface.
very earnest thanks, the courtesy of those Authors
and Publishers who have so willingly aided me
in my labour of love. The names of the former
will be found appended to their Poems ; among
the latter I feel bound to make special mention
of the w^ll-known firms of Messrs. Longman and
Co., Mr. John Murray, Messrs. Bell and Daldy,
Messrs. Chapman and Hall, Messrs. Macmillan
and Co., jMessrs. J. H. and J. Parker, and Messrs.
Smith, Elder, and Co.
E. H. B.
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
Pago
Goon-XiGiiT IX THE Pouch .... Owen Meredith 1
Peu Pacem ad Lvcem A. A. Procter 14
All Saint.s . . . Itiijld Rev. S. Wilbcrforcc, D.B. \o
The Twin Mutes : Taught and Untaught C. F. Alexaudcr 17
Hope Beneath the "Wateks . . . Rev. C. Turner 22
" Rejoice Evermore " . . 2lost Rev. R. C. Treneh, D.U. 23
^VxGELs KJ£. IF. 2o
Omniscience H. IT. JF. 28
Two Sonnets on the Old Testament J'cri/ Rcr. IF. Alexander 29
Two Sonnets on the Xew Testament Fery Rev. IF. Alexander 31
" Through a Glass Darkly " . . . /. Ingeloiv 33
The Xew Song 40
The Sacred Fisherman . Riv. J. B. IS. Monnell, LL.l). 41
Fragments oi' a Long-Pondered Poem.
Fcnj Rev. U. Alfurd, IJ.T). 43
The Recollection of a Picture.
From " The House among the Jlills " 4!'
The Soul-Dirge . Riyht Riv. A. C. Co.re, li.J). o2
Xll
Index of Subjects.
Marah .......
"He Giveth Songs in the Xight " .
Rest
Clouds .
Sunset avith Clouds
"Waiting for Spring
The Harvest Moon
Lost Love
S. Paul in the Desert
The Church Eestored
The Giver and the Gifts
The Three Helmsmen .
Star Song
The Angel Messenger
Page
C. L. Ford 55
/. P. IIopps 57
11. B. St owe 59
Rev. W. Crosici-U, D.B. 61
. Bev. G. Lewis, B.A. 63
C. F. Alexander 65
Hev. T. J. Fottcr G7
C. L. Ford 70
Fev. A. Brodrick, M.A. 71
C. F. Alexander
L. Fletcher
A. M. 11. Watts
C. L. Ford 83
A. Sh/pton 86
76
77
79
Love . From " Taimlidiiser ; or, the Battle of the Bards " 87
The Holy Communion . . . Iter. F. H. Baynes, M.A. 89
Hunting the "Waterfalls . . Ftiv. J. 31. Neale, F.F). 91
Youth Renewed
Very Ecv. W. Alexander, M.A. 93
Thoughts avithout Words E. 11. W. 95
Ode to the Moon . . . II. F. Ormerod, M.A. 97
Memories, the Food of Love Sir F. B. Lytton, Bart., M.P. 99
Sea Gleams . . . Very Fer. IV. Alexander, M.A. 101
The Mystery of Christ . . . . C. L. Ford 105
Index of Suhjeds.
XUl
The Redbreast .
From IIovse to Home
Sunday .
Abovxding in- Hope
Wonder and Rest
Southwell Minster
Christ "Walking upon the Sea
Dante in Exile .
Autumn Leaves .
"Is there no Balm in Gilead?"
Parting ....
voc.vtions ....
The Sermon to the Fishermen
The Battle of the Alma .
Tear.s .....
u.\expre.sse1).
Ea.ster
Bread upon the "Waters .
Ret: J. IT. Abrahall, M.A.
. C. Itoxseffi
Ell'. P. Freemau, Jl.^l.
Ecr. B. Knvicdij, D.D.
. L. Fai/an
A. St. John, M.A.
C. L. Ford
C. K.
J. Andrews, B.A.
. C. Sdlon
. II. Tootell
Rev. II. A. liawcs, M.A.
. J. luf/elow
liev. J. M. Xcale, B.lJ.
. Bee. II. Bonar, D.D.
. A. A. Procter
Rev. H. G. Toiidiiis, M.A.
A. ShiptoH
" In all Time of our Tribulation, Good Lord
DELIVER us" A. Camhridije
The Isih .... Rev. II. G. Tumki)is, M.^l.
Wheat and Tari.s . . //. Godicin, F.S.A.
The Desired Haven .... ./. //. Cloiajh, M.A.
Page
108
109
lis
121
\T.]
12.5
129
132
13.3
137
HO
Ml
143
lot
1.57
159
ir,i
1G3
1G.5
1()S
171
17;;
XIV
Index of Subjects.
The Light of the Would. — I. . . . . It. A.
The Light of the World. — II. . . . W. R. Neale
Autumn Memories . . . Rev. R. H. Baynes, M.A.
"These Three" Isa Craig
Visitatiox of the Sick . Veii. Archdeacon I Fords worth, D.D.
" Have Mercy on Me, Lord, Thou Son of David."
Rev. A. Brodrkk, 3I.A.
By the Shore
.Jacob's Ladder
Moments
Voice of the Sea
On the Threshold
" She is not Dead, but Sleepeth
The Dying Soldier's Wife
Going Out and Coming In .
Dying among the Pines
" I have the Keys of Hell and Death."
Rev. E. H. Plumptrc, M.A.
The Song of the Bride . . . . P.J. BaiUj
At the Altar . . Yen. Archdeacon Biclcersteth, B.I).
The Death of David . . . . C. F. Alexander
The Hour of Death . . . Rev. H. A. Rawes, M.A.
Emmaus Rov. J. M. Xcalc, B.D.
. Rev. R. II. Baynes, M.A.
Very Rev. IF. Alexander, M.A.
. lord Houghton
. Author of'-'' Angel Fisits"
Mary Ilowitt
E. Sandars, B.A.
C. F. Alexander
C. F. Alexander
Page
175
176
178
183
185
187
189
191
193
195
198
201
203
209
211
213
215
216
217
220
222
ENGLISH LYEICS.
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GOOD-NIGHT IN THE PORCH.
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LITTLE longer in the liglit, Love, let me
'^' be. The air is warm.
\ I liear the cuckoo's last good-night float
from the copse below the Farm.
A little longer, Sister sweet — your hand in
mine — on this old seat.
^<^ In yon red gable, which the rose creeps
^yp round and o'er, your casement shines
Against the yellow west, o'er those forlorn
and solitary pines.
Tlie long, long day is nearly done. II()^\■
silent all the place is grown !
The stagnant levels, one and all, are burning
in the distant marsh —
Ilark ! 'twas the bittern's parting call. Tln'
fntgs are out : with murmurs harsh
Th(j low reeds vibrato. See ! the sun
catches the long ])ools one by one.
u
2 English Lyrics.
A moment, and those orange flats will turn dead grey or
lurid Avliite.
Look up ! o'erhead the winnowing bats are come and
gone, eluding sight.
The little worms are out. The snails begin to move
doAvn shining trails,
With slow pink cones, and soft wet horns. The garden
bowers are dim with dew.
AVith sparkling drops the white-rose thorns are twinkling,
where the sun slips through
Those reefs of coral buds hung free below the purple
Judas-tree.
From the warm upland comes a gust made fragrant "with
the brown hay there.
The meek cows, with their white horns thrust above the
hedge, stand still and stare.
The steaming horses from the wains droop o'er the tank
their plaited manes.
And o'er yon hill-side lirown and barren (where you and
I as children played,
Starting the rabbit to his warren), I hear the sandy, shrill
cascade
Leap down upon the vale, and spill his heart out round
the muffled mill.
can it be for nothing only that God has shown His
world to me 1
Or but to leave the heart more lonely with loss of beauty
. . . can it be 1
closer, closer. Sister dear . . . nay, I have kissed away
that tear.
Good-Xight hi the Porch. o
r«od bless you, Dear, for that kind thought which only
upon tears could rise !
God bless you for the love that sought to hide them in
those drooping eyes,
AVhose lids I kiss ! . . . poor lids, so red ! but lot my
kiss fall there instead.
Yes, sad indeed it seems, each night — and sadder. Dear,
for your sweet sake ! —
To watch the last low lingering light, and know not
where the morn may break.
To-nifrht we sit together here. To-morrow night will
come . . . ah, where ?
'o
child ! hoAve'er assured be faith, to say farewell is
fraught with gloom,
AVhen, like one flower, tlie germs of deatli and genius
ripen toward the tomb ;
And earth each day, as some fond face at parting, gains a
graver grace.
There's not a flower, there's not a tree in this old garden
where we sit,
IJut what some fragrant memory is closed and folded up
in it.
To-night the dog-rose smells as wild, as fresh, as when I
was a child.
'Tis eight years since (do j'ou forget 1) Ave set those lilies
near the Avail :
You were a blue-eyed child : even yet I seem to sec the
ringlets fall —
The golden ringlets, bloAvn behind your shoulders in the
merry Avind.
4 English Lyrics.
Ah, me ! old times, tliey cling, they cling ! And oft hy
yonder green old gate
The field shows through, in morns of spring, an eager
boy, I paused elate
"With all sweet fancies loosed from school. And oft, you
know, when eves were cool,
In summer time, and through the trees young gnats began
to be about.
With some old book upon your knees 'twas here you
watched the stars come out.
While oft, to please me, you sang through some foolish
song I made for you.
And there's my epic — I began when life seemed long,
though longer art —
And all the glorious deeds of man made golden riot in my
heart —
Eight books ... it will not number nine ! I die before
my heroine.
Sister ! they say that droAvning men in one wild moment
can recall
Their whole life long, and feel again the pain — the bliss
— that thronged it all : —
Last night those phantoms of the Past again came
crowding round me fast.
Xear morning, when the lamp was low, against the wall
they seemed to flit ;
And, as the wavering light would glow or fall, they came
and went with it.
The ghost of boyhood seemed to gaze down the dark verge
of vanished days.
Good-Kight in the Porch. 5
Once more the garden wliere she walked on summer eves
to tend her flowers,
Once more the lawn where first we talked of future years
in twilight hours
.Vrose ; once more she seemed to pass before me in tlio
waving grass
To that old terrace ; her bright hair about her warm neck
all undone,
And waving on the balmy air, with tinges of the dying
sun.
.lust one star kindling in the west : just one bird singing
near its nest.
80 lovely, so beloved ! Oh, fair as though that sun hail
never set
"Which staid upon her golden hair, in dreams I seem to
see her yet !
To see her in that old green place — the same hushed,
smiling, cruel face !
A little older, Love, than you are noAV ; and I was then a
boy ;
And wild and wapvard-hearted too ; to her my passion
was a toy,
Soon broken! ah, a foolish thing— a butterfly with
crumpled wing !
Her hair, too, was like yours — as bright, but with a
wariuer golden tinge :
Her eyes — a somewhat deeper light, and dreamed below a
longer fringe :
And still that strange grave smile slie had stays in my
heart and keeps it sad !
6 English Lyrics.
There's no one knows it, truest friend, "but you : for I
have never breathed
To other ears the frozen end of those Spring garlands
Hope once wreathed ;
And death will come before again I breathe that name
untouched by pain.
From little things — a star, a flower — that touched us
with the selfsame thought.
My passion deepened hour by hour, until to that fierce
heat 'twas wrought,
Which, shriveUing over every nerve, crumbled the out-
works of reserve.
I told her then, in that wild time, the love I knew she
long had seen ;
The accusing pain that burned like crime, yet left me
nobler than I had been.
What matter with what words I wooed her '? She said
I had misunderstood her.
And something more — small matter what ! — of friendshi])
something — sister's love :
She said that I was young — knew not my ovm heart — as
the years would prove :
She wished me happy — she conceived an interest in me —
and believed
I should grow x;p to something great— and soon forget her
— soon forget
This fancy — and congratulate my life she had released it,
yet—
With more such words — a lie ! a lie ! She broke my
heart, and flung it by !
Good-yi[/}ct in the Porch. 7
A life's libation lifted up, from her proud lip she dashed
untasted :
There trampled lay love's costly cup, and in the dust tho
wine was -wasted.
8he knew I could not pour such wine again at any other
slirine.
Then I remember a numb mood : mad murmurings of the
words she said :
A slow shame smouldering through my blood ; that
surged and sung within my head:
And drunken sunlights reeling through the leaves : above,
the burnished blue
Hot on my eyes — a blazing shield : a noise among the
waterfalls :
A free crow up the brown cornfield floating at will :
faint sheijherd-calls :
And reapers reaping in the shocks of gold : and girls with
purple frocks :
All which the more confused my brain : and nothing
could I realize
IJut the great fact of my OM-n jiain : I saw the fields : I
heard the cries :
The crow's shade dwindled up the hill : the world went
on : my heart stood stilL
I thought I h<'ld in my hut hand my life crushed up :
I could have tost
The crumpled riddle; from me, and laughed loud to tliiiik
what I had lost.
A bitter strength. Avas in my mind : like Samson, wh-ii
she scorned him — l>liii<l,
8 English Lyrics.
And casting reckless arms about the props of life to liug
them down —
A madman with his eyes put out. But all my anger was
my own.
I spared the worm upon my walk : I left the white rose
on its stalk.
All's over long since. Was it strange that I was mad
with grief and shame 1
And I would cross the seas, and change my ancient home,
my father's name 1
In the wild hope, if that might he, to change my own
identity !
I know that I was wrong : I know it Avas not well to ho
so wild.
But the scorn stung so ! . . . Pity now could Avound
not ! . . . I have seen her child :
It had the selfsame eyes she had : their gazing almost
made me mad.
Dark violet eyes, whose glances, deep with April liints of
sunny tears,
'i^eath long soft lashes laid asleep, seemed all too
thoughtful for her years ;
As though from mine her gaze had caught the secret of
some mournful thought.
But when she spoke, her father's air broke o'er her . . .
that clear confident voice !
Some happy souls there are, that wear their nature
lightly ; these rejoice
The world by living ; and receive from aU men more than
what they give.
Good-Night in the Porch. 9
One handful of their buoyant chaff exceeds our hoards of
careful grain :
IJecause their love breaks tlirough their laugh, while ours
is fraught with tendtT pain :
The world, that knows itself too sad, is proud to kee])
some faces glad :
And so it is ! from such an one Misfortune softly steps
aside
To let liini still walk in the sun. These things must be.
I cannot cliide.
Had I been she I might have made the selfsame choice.
She shunned the shade.
To some men God liath given laughter : but tears to some
men He hath given :
He bade us sow in tears, hereafter to harvest holier smiles
in Heaven :
And tears and smiles, they are His gift : both good, to
smite or to uplift :
He knows His slieep : the wind and showers beat not too
sharply the shorn lamb :
His wisdom is more wise than ours : He knew my nature
— what 1 am :
He tempers smiles with tears : both good, to bear in time
the Christian mood.
O yet — in scorn of mean relief, lot Sorrow bear her
heavenly fruit !
lietter the wildest luiur of grief than the low pastime of
the brute !
iJettcr to weep, fur He wept too, than laugh as every fool
can do !
10 English Lyrics.
For siire, 'twere best to bear tlie cross ; nor liglitly fling
the thorns behind ;
Lest we grow happy by the loss of what was noblest in
the mind.
Here — in the ruins of my years — Father, I bless Thee
tlirough these tears !
It was in the far foreign lands this sickness came upon
nie first.
Below strange suns, 'mid alien hands, this fever of tlie
south was nursed,
Until it reached some vital part. I die not of a broken
heart.
think not that ! If I could live . . . there's much to
live for — worthy life.
It is not for what fame could give — though that I scorn
not — but the strife
Were noble for its own sake too. I thought that I had
much to do —
But God is wisest ! Hark, again ! . . . 'twas yon black
bittern, as he rose
Against the wild light o'er the fen. How red your little
casement glows !
The night falls fast. How lonely, Dear, this bleak old
house will look next year !
So sad a thought ? . . . Ah, yes ! I know it is not good to
brood on this :
And yet — such thoughts will come and go, imbidden.
'Tis that you should miss,
My darling, one familiar tone of this weak voice when I
am gone.
Good-Xii/Itt in the Purch. 11
And, for what's past — I "will not say in -what she did that
all Avas right,
But all's forgiven ; and I pray for her heart's welfare, day
and night.
All things are changed ! This cheek would glow even
near hers but iaintly now !
Thou — God ! before whose sleepless eye not even in vain
the sparrows fall,
Receive, sustain me ! Sanctify my soul. Thou knowest.
Thou lovest all.
Too weak to walk alone — I see Thy hand : I falter back
to Thee.
Saved from the curse of time, which throws its baseness
on us day by day ;
Its wretched joys, and worthless Avoes ; till all the heart is
worn away,
1 feel Thee near. I hold my breath, by the half-open
doors of Death.
And sometimes, glimpses from within of glory (wondrous
sight and sound !)
Float near me: — faces pure from sin; strange music;
saints with splendour croAvned :
I seem to feel my native air blow down from some high
region there,
And fan my spirit pure : I rise above the sense of loss and
pain :
Faint forms that lured my childhood's eyes, long lost, 1
seem to find again :
I see the end of all : I led liojie, awe, no language can
reveal.
12 English Lyrics.
Forgive me, Lord, if overmucli I loved tliat form Tliou
madest so fair ;
I know that Thou didst make her such ; and fair but as
the flowers were —
Thy work : her heavity was hut Thine ; the human less
than the Divine.
My life hath been one search for Thee 'mid thorns found
red with Thy dear blood :
In many a dark Gethsemane I seemed to stand where
Thou hadst stood ;
And, scorned in this world's Judgment-place, at times,
through tears, to catch Thy face.
Thou " suflferedst here, and didst not fliil: Thy bleeding
feet these paths have trod :
But Thou wert strong, and I am frail : and I am man,
and Thou wert God.
Be near me : keep me in Thy sight : or lay my soul asleep
in light.
O to be where the meanest mind is more than Sliak-
speare ! where one look
Shows more than here the wise can find, though toiling
slow from book to book !
Where life is knowledge : love is sure : and hope's brief
promise made secure.
dying voice of human praise ! the crude ambitions of
my youth!
1 long to pour immortal lays ! great pseans of perennial
Truth !
A larger work ! a loftier aim ! , . . and Avhat are laurel
leaves and fame ?
Good-Xight in the Porch. 13
And ■\vliat are words ] How little these the silence of the
soul express !
Mere froth — the foam and flower of seas whose hungering
waters heave and press
Against the planets and the sides of night — mute,
yearning, mystic tides !
To ease the heart with song is sweet : sweet to he heard,
if heard by love.
And you have heard nie. "When we meet shall we not
sing the old songs above
To grander music ] Sweet, one kiss. blest it is to die
like this ! —
To lapse from being without pain : your hand in mine, on
mine your heart :
Tlie unshaken faith to meet again tliat sheaths the pang
with which we part :
My head upon your bosom, Sweet; your hand in mine,
on this old seat !
So ; closer ^\'ind that tender arm . , . IIow tlie hot tears
fall ! Do not weep,
Ileloved, but let your smile lay warm about me. " In the
Lord they sleep."
You know the words the Scripture saith . . . C) light,
glory ! ... is this death 1
OWKX ^rr.ltKDITII.
u
PER PACEM AD LUCEM.
'V
'''' DO not ask, Lord, that life may be
A pleasant road ;
f I do not ask that Thou wouldst take from
me
'kj\ Aught of its load ;
'^Q' I do not ask that flowers should always
^'' spring
Beneath "my feet,
y I know too well the poison and the sting
^%(! Of things too sweet.
% For one thing only. Lord, dear Lord, I plead,
'''" Lead me aright —
Though strength should falter and though
heart should bleed —
Through Peace to Light.
I do not ask, Lord, that Thou shouldst shed
Full radiance here ;
Give but a ray of Peace, that I may tread
Without a fear.
I do not ask my cross to understand,
My way to see, —
Better in darkness just to feel Thy Hand,
And follow Thee.
Joy is like restless day, but Peace Divine
Like quiet night :
Lead me, Lord, till perfect Day shall shine,
Through Peace to Light.
A. A. Procter.
15
ALL SAIXTS.
'i" was upon tlio morning of All Saints —
.V glorious autumn morn : — The crimson sun
\\'itli rays aslant lit up a silver mist
\\'hich liad crept on all night — as some groat
host —
Tlirough every lowland valley, but was now
Melting in softest light, like childhood's
dream.
Above me the clear sky showed almost dark,
So deep its blue beside the gorgeous east,
Xo cloud had stained it yet, but here and
there
A snowy vapour, severed from the rest.
Hung high above, as though the visible
ils breath
( )f i)assing Angels. I had sat me down
Upon a high hill-side, to see day break,
And think upon All Saints. I know not now
Whether I slept — but so it seemed to me.
My tmncM senses sunk o'erpowered before
The glorious jjresonce of an Holy One,
A watcher from on high, who thus to me,
Reading my thoughts, spake graciously : — " Thou
wouldst
I5(;hold tliis goodly army of All Saints,
And scan their noble bearing : watch awhile
IG All Saints.
Witli eye intent, and I will pass before thee
The sight for Avhich thou era vest."
Fixed I sat
With earnest gaze Tipon the glowing sky,
Where, as I deemed, with all its glory wreathed,
The pageant I should see of passing hosts
Bright with celestial radiance. — i!^ouglit I saw ;
Only with tottering steps before mine eyes
A meek old man moved by, who feebly helped
The utter weariness of aged feet
With a poor staff. And then on that hill-side
A woman passed, belike a new-made widow,
With her deep weeds — and on her sunken cheek
Sat the pale hue of nights unrestful, spent
In heart-sick Avatching by some bed of pain : —
Yet on her brow, which the sun's rays now lighted,
Methought there dwelt a glow, brighter than his.
Of peace and holy calm. And so she passed.
Nor saw I more — save that a little child, f
Of brightest childlike gentleness, passed by,
Lisping his morning song of infant praise
With a half-inward melody ; as though
He were too happy for this creeping earth. —
Yet I sat watching : till upon my ear
Broke that same heavenly voice — " What wouldst thou
more.
Or why this empty gaze 1 Already thou
In those that passed thee by hast seen All Saints."
Samuel Wilberforce, D.D.
Lord Bishox) of Oxford.
17
THE TWIN MUTES :
TAUGHT AND UNTAUGHT.
HERE the thorn grows by a ruuied abbe}',
In a valley of our grey north land,
Sits a lonely woman 'mid the gravestones,
:^.'5 Hocking to and fro \ni\\ clasp6d hand.
Two rough stones, uncarven and unlettered,
^i^ft Standtoguard that double-mounded grave,
^V^f Darkly brown in the untrodden churchyard,
"\\1iere the starflowers and the harebells
wave.
" Ah, my grief is not extreme, stranger !
Many a mother mourns a buried child ;
!Many a hearth that's silent in the Autumn
A\'as not voiceless when the Summer smiled.
" liut our sorrows are of different texture ;
Through the black there runs a silver tliread
Griefs there are susceptible of comfort.
Tears not salt above the happy dead.
" Tender joy amid lier mldest anguish
llatli the mother, waiting in the calm
Of the death-husli by her angel's cradle,
When she thinketh of the crown and i)alm :
18 English Lyrics.
" And the ear that ached with the long tension,
When the eye gave weary sorrow scope,
Hears at night the voices of the dying
Breathe again their last low words of hope.
" In raine ear there are no voices ringing ;
One pale smile is all that memory holds, —
Smile that flickers like a streak at sunset,
That a night of gloomy cloud enfolds.
" On that mountain, stranger ! where the heather
Casts a tint of pxu'ple and dull red.
And a darker streak along the meadow
Shows from far the torrent's rocky bed ; —
" Where the broken lines of larch and alder
To the roof a scanty shelter yield.
And the furze hedge, like a golden girdle,
Clasps one narrow cultivated field, —
" Lies mine homestead. In that whitewashed dwelling,
Joys, and pains, and sorrows have I known;
Looked on the dear faces of my children.
Seen their smiles, and heard their dying moan.
" Five times had I heard the bnth-cry feeble
In those walls, like music in mine ear, —
Five times, and no son's voice on my bosom
Cried the cry that mothers love to hear.
" But the sixth time, — ^more of pain and wailing.
More of pleasure after long alarms ;
For a boy was in the double blessing, —
Son and daughter slept within mine arms.
O'
The Tidn Mutes. 1.0
" Ah, "vvliat rapturo was it all the suniincr,
Sitting underneath the alder tree,
A\Tiile the breeze came freely up the mountain,
And ia.y twin babes smiled upon my knee !
" Piped the thrush on many a cloudy evening,
Poising on the larch-top overhead ;
Cried the brown bird from the heather near us,
And the torrent warbled in its bed.
" But the twain upon my bosom lying
AVere as dead to voice of bird or man, J
As the stone that under those blue waters
Heard no rippling music as they ran.
" Silence, silence in the hearts that bounded
"With each passionate pulse of love or hate ;
Xo articulate language or expression,
"\Mien the soul rushed to its prison-gate.
'' Only sometimes through their bars of azure.
The wild eyes, with glances keen and fond,
Told some secret of that unsearched nature.
Of the unfiithomed depth that lay beyond.
" Came the lady to our lonely mountain.
Pleaded gently with her lips of rose ;
Pleaded with her eyes as blue as heaven.
Spake of endless joys and endless woes.
"Told iiic art had bridged tliat gulph of .silfuce, —
That the delicate tinger-language drew
From the deaf-mute's heart its secret strivings,
Gave him back the truths that others knew.
20 English Lyrics.
" And slie prayed me by all Cliristian duty,
And she urged me Avlien I wejDt and strove ;-
For the place was far, my son was precious,
And I loved him with a cruel love.
" Love ! ah no, sweet love is true and tender,
Self-forgetting ; flinging at the feet
Of the loved one all her own emotions :
For my thought such name Avere all unmeet.
" So I gave the girl, and to my bosom
Hiigged the boy in his long soundless night ;
Gave the life of an immortal spirit
For the bareness of a short delight.
■'t)^
" Years came, years went, he grew up on this mountain,
A strange creature, passionate, wild, and strong ;
Untaught, savage — wanting, like the savage,
iS^atiiral vent for rapture, or for wrong.
" He was smitten, — when the furze in April,
To the wind that cometli from the east.
Shakes like gold bells all its hardy blossoms,
The death arrow struck into his breast.
" .Vnd she, too — like that strange Avire that vibrates
Thousand miles along to the same strain, —
His twin sister, through her similar nature.
In her far home felt the same sharp pain.
" And she came to die beside the hearthstone.
Where we watched him withering, day by day ;
On her wan cheek the same burning hectic,
In her eye the same ethereal ray.
The Tivin Mutes. 21
"But she camo back gentle, patient, tutonnl,
Climlnng noble heights of self-control ;
On her brow the conscions calm of knowledge,
And the Christian's comfort in her soul.
" Ah, mine heart ! how throbbed it with reproaches.
When the weak Avan fingers met to pray !
When the eyes looked sweetly up to heaven,
"\\liile my poor boy laughed, and turned away.
" Thus they died. Athwart the red leaves ftiUing
Eushed the first cold winds of Autumn time,
When the ears that never heard their howling
Opened to some great eternal chime. •
" She went first : the Angel on the threshold
Saw upon her face the look Divine ;
Saw her tracing Avith her dying finger.
On my hand, her dear Eedeemer's sign.
" And he took her. Softly, without motion.
Dropped down gently the small finger's tij).
And I looked in her dear eyes and closed them.
With the smile still lingering on her lip.
" But the boy ! — he felt the darkness gather.
As the Angel's dusky wing drew near :
In his eyes there was a cruel question.
As he looked u}» in his ilnubt and fear.
•' < )n his dying face the shadow darkened :
Jle rose up and clung unto my side.
1 had lost him, but I ('(iiiM not s;i\r liiiii ;
And tlie shade grew darkci- as lie died."
Cecil Fha.ncks Ai.i;.\amii;i:.
22
HOPE BENEATH THE WATERS.
CAN"]!^OT mount to Heaven beneatli tins
ban.
Can Christian hope survive so far below
The level of the happiness of man ]
Can Angels' wmgs in these dark waters
growr'
A spirit voice replied, " From bearing right
Our sorest burdens, comes fresh strength
to bear ;
And so we rise again towards the light,
And quit the sunless depths for upper air :
Meek patience is as diver's breath to all
"Who sink in sorrow's sea, and many a ray
Comes gleaming downward from the source
of day.
To guide us reascending from our fall :
The rocks have brviised thee sore ; but Angels' wmgs
Grow best from bruises — hope from anguish springs."
Eev. Charles Turner.
23
" REJOICE EVERMOREr
UT how should we be glad]
"We tliat are joui-neymg through a vale of
tears,
Encompassed with a thousand woes and
fears,
How shoidd we not be sad 1
Angels that ever stand
"Within the presence-chamber, and there raise
The never-interrupted hymn of praise,
May Avelcome this command ;
Or they whose strife is o'er ;
Who all their weary length of life have trod.
As pillars now within the temple of God,
That shall go out no more :
But' we who wander here,
"We that are exiled in this gloomy place.
Still doomed to water earth's unthankful face
"With many a bitter tear, —
Bid us lament and mourn ;
Bid us that we go mourning all the day,
And we will find it easy to obey,
Of our best things forlorn ;
24 English Lyrics.
But not that we be glad :
If it be true the mourners are the blest,
(J leave us, in a world of sin, unrest.
And trouble, to be sad.
I spake, and thought to weep
For sin and sorrow, suffering and crime.
That fill the world — all mine apj)ointed time
A settled grief to keep.
When lo ! as day from night.
As day from out the womb of night forlorn.
So from that sorrow was that gladness born,
Even in mine own despite.
Yet was not that by this
Excluded; at the coming of that joy
Eled not that grief, nor did that grief destroy
The newly-risen bliss :
But side by side they flow,
Two fountains flowmg from one smitten heart.
And oft-times scarcely to be known apart,
That gladness and that woe.
Two fountains from one source.
Or which from two such neighbouring sources run,
That aye for him who shall unseal the one,
The other flows perforce.
And both are sweet and calm ;
Fair flowers upon the banks of either blow ;
Both fertilize the soil, and where they flow
Shed round them holy balm.
B. C. Trench, D.D.
Lord Archbishop of Dublin.
25
AXGELS.
fi 11, messengers of God, are ye beside us 1
^ '"' Fair, loving Angels, are ye tarrying nigh,
AVitk gentle hands ever outstretched to
guide us ? "
A\'c ask in cliildhood, looking to the sky,
Drinking its dazzling depths with eyes un-
failing,
UnshadoAved by the budding April trees,
^Vhile a mysterious, sudden hush prevailing,
Seems to hold back the voice of bird and
'^ breeze
^ In watchful awe, and willow bloo)ns half
broken.
Leap from our hands, ftirgetful of tlieir
hold,
Because our souls are listening for some
token,
Waiting for some briglit jiresence to un-
fold
Its glory to our eyes, — in lily vesture,
With silver wings and dimly-shining haii',
Meeting our earnest gaze with loving gesture.
And eyes tliat long xinseen have watclied us there.
26 English Lyrics.
A moment's trance ! then, sound through silence piercing-
Companions shouting from the primrose dells,
The thrush, his half-learnt roundelay rehearsing —
Calls us to earth, and all the dream dispels.
And on tln-ough life, longing for hands to guide us.
Our hearts repeat again, with yearning sigh,
" Oh, messengers of God, are ye heside us "?
Strong, loving Angels, are ye tarrying nigh?"
And asking so, we learn the lesson slowly ;
Each day's events may be an Angel sent.
With message for the trustful heart and lowly.
That holds no idol of self-made intent.
Yea, and the daily things our senses greeting.
The green bud bursting in the dusky hedge.
The solemn clouds through evening silence fleeting
Above some city housetop's blackened edge ;
The wandering butterfly, whose pinions flutter
Adown some narrow street, in days of Spring,
Have brought sweet thoughts which words may never
utter.
Unto the mourning and the suffering.
The fame of lofty deeds, whereat we wonder,
And hear in them a voice that calls us on ;
The sight of means, whereby good deeds we ponder,
Turn by occasion into good deeds done ;
A ngels.
A smile unasked, a wayside salutation,
The cloudless brightness of some household face,
By these how often God sends forth salvation
To souls that faint in their appointed place.
Xor ahvays are they messengers, whose beauty
Is to our gaze revealed without disguise ;
Tliey meet us, too, in form of sternest duty,
"Whose guerdon far in the Hereafter lies.
All hours of sorrow, all distress and dan<ier.
The coming of a thousand daily cares.
Aye, Death itself may enter as a stranger.
And prove an Angel honoui-ed unawares.
27
E. ir. W
28
OMNISCIENCE.
.!^ — \w4". '^&- " Lord, Thou knowest all things ; Thou knowest
S.?^\<&-: '.u that I love Thee."— St. John xxi. 17.
OYEST thou j\rer' Sliould any earthly
friend
So ask Avith douhting voice, hi sad
surprise,
Impassioned answers to our Hps would
^'^'^P^ rise,
And fervent words our heating hearts
^ expend,
Yet leave assurance feehle at the end.
V ^'s^'^^ Oh, heaveidy Friend ! with calm though
l)^^ sad replies
W# Thy servant answered Thee, for Thou art
wise ;
The heart's deep mysteries Thou dost comprehend
Better than we ourselves ; Thine eye discerns
The pearl reposing in the darkest deep
Of a most troubled ocean, and the word,
" Thou knowest all ! " to Thee alone returns :
All the past sin, the tears that now we weep,
The speechless love, — " Thou knowest all
things, Lord!"
k
E. PI. AV.
2!)
TWO SOXNETS OX THE OLD TESTA MEXT
" Hold not Thj- peace at my tears." —
Psalm xxxix. 1"J.
HAT is the saddest, loAvest, SAveetest sound,
Xearest akin to perfect silence ] 'Not
The delicate whisper sometimes in the
liot
Autumnal morniiiij heard the corn-fiolds
round ;
'^■'-'' V'i ^^^ y^^ ^o lonely man, n(nv almost Ixauid
l]y slumber, near his house a murmurous
river,
Euzzing and droning o'er the stones for
ever.
Xot such faint voice of Autumn oat-
encroAATi'd,
And not such lii[uid murmur, U my heart !
But tears that drop o'er graves, and sins,
and fears,
A sound the very weeper scarcely hears,
A music in whi<;h silence hath some jmrt.
O Tliou, all gentle, who all-hearing art,
Hold not Thy peace, sweet tSavioiir, at my tears
30 English Lyrics.
II.
" And the coast descended unto the river Kanah [brook of
reeds] southward." — Joshua xvii. 9.
The coast descended to the "brook of reeds,
The river Kanah southward. In the stream
The armour of Manasseh used to gleam,
IMarching right up to do those daring deeds
Upon the Canaanite. Wave to wave succeeds,
ancient river ! age succeeds to age.
1 ask thee nothing of the battle's rage,
Or hoAV the hewing of the forest speeds,
In the land of giants ; only I would know,
Do those old reeds within thy channel quiver,
Making a music when the breezes blow ?
And do their mottled lances slant as ever 1
Do they outlive man's strength, God's weakest things,
Of older race than all our lines of kings %
W. Alexander, M.A.
Dean of Enily.
31
TWO SOXXETS OX THE XEW TESTAMEXT.
" Then spake Jesus acrain unto them, saying?, I am the
Light of the World."— St. John viii. 12.
HERE is a huilding by yon river lone,
And walking homeward wpon winter
nights,
When on the thorn tlie hitter north-west
smites.
And in mine ear the rustling broom iiiakes
moan,
Or on some mild dusk evening, ere hath
shone *
The moonlight on the Mourne, the place
doth seem
A blank and purposeless j^ile beside the
stream.
But suddenly lit up, uiiuc eyo liatk kiunvn
A line of lustrous windows all ablaze ;
A jialace of enchantment exquisite, —
A fairy fabric self-illuminated.
Dark buildings of God's word ! with what amaze
'llif heart sun-eys thee, what time thou art lit.
As from within, by Him who thee created I
•>
2 English Lyrics.
II.
" the depth of the riches hoth of the wisdom and
knowledge of God ! " — Eomans xi. 33.
I had been reading Paul's great argument,
Where, after those deep chapters darkly penned.
He bursts out, " the depth ! " toward the end ;
When, "whether thought or memory might present
Such image — lo ! a merchantman was bent,
Under reefed topsails through a strait to drop,
Hung o'er with cliff's that almost touched at top.
Dark o'er the wallowing sea the vessel went.
Till instantaneously she had passed through,
A touch of moonlight on her sails — before her.
World without end, the waves, a blue sky o'er her.
Behold, I thought, an image passing true, —
After Predestination's narrow road.
The silver ocean of the love of God !
W. Alexander, M.A.
jL Dean of Emly.
on
''THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY:
rVIR world ! these puzzled souls of ours grow
weak
"With beating their bruised wings against
tlie rim
■^ V/ That bounds their utmost flying, when they
seek
The distant and the dim.
^_^ We pant, we strain like birds against their
wires ;
Are sick to reach the vast and the
'^.^ beyond ;—
-'^ And what avails, if still to our desires
Those far-off gulfs respond ]
Contentment comes not therefore ; still there lies
An outer distance when the first is hailed,
Axui still for ever yawns before our eyes
^Vn UTMOST — that is veiled.
Searcliing those edges of the universe,
"We leave the central fields a fallow part ;
To feed the eye more precious things amerce,
And starve the darkened heart.
D
34 English Lyrics.
Then all goes wrong : the old foundations rock ;
One scorns at him of old who gazed nnshod ;
One striking with a pickaxe thinks the shock
Shall move the seat of God.
A little way, a very little way
(Life is so short) they dig into the rind,
And they are very sorry, so they say, —
Sorry for what they find.
But truth is sacred — aye, and must be told :
There is a story long heloved of man ;
We must forego it, for it' will not hold —
l^ature had no such plan.
And then, " If God hath said it," some should cry,
" We have the story from the fountain-head : "
W^hy, then, what better than the old reply,
The first " Yea, hath God said?"
The garden, the garden, must it go,
Source of our hope and our most dear regret?
The ancient story, must it no more shoAV
How man may win it yet ?
And all upon the Titan child's decree,
The baby science, born but yesterday,
That in its rash unlearned infancy
With shells and stones at play,
And delving in the outworks of this world.
And little crevices that it could reach,
Discovered certain bones laid up, and furled
Under an ancient beach.
''Through a Glass Darlhj."
Xm\ other waifs tliat lay, to its young mind,
Some fathoms lower than they ought to lie,
By gain whereof it could not fail to find
Much proof of ancientry,
Hints at a pedigi-ee withdrawn and vast.
Terrible deeps, and old obscurities.
Or soulless origin, and twilight passed
In the primeval seas,
Whereof it tells, as thinking it hath been
Of truth not meant for man inheritor ;
.Vs if this knowledge Heaven had ne'er foreseen,
And not provided for !
Knowledge ordained to live ! although the fate
Of much that went before it was — to die.
And be called ignorance by such as wait
Till the next drift conies by.
marvellous credulity of man !
If God indeed kept secret, couldst thou know
Or follow up the mighty Artisan
Unless He ^\dlled it so ]
And canst tliou of the Maker think in sooth
Th;it of the jMade He shall be found at fault.
And dream of wresting from Him hidden truth
By force or by assault 1
But if He keeps not secret — if thine eyes
He o]»eneth to His wondrous work of late —
Think how in so])erness thy wisdom lies.
And liavc the grace to wait.
o -
86 English Lyrics.
Wait, nor against the half-learned lesson fret,
Xor chide at old belief as if it erred.
Because thou canst not reconcile as yet
The Worker and the word.
Either the Worker did in ancient days
Give us the word, His tale of love and might ;
(And if in truth He gave it us, who says
He did not give it right 1)
Or else He gave it not, and then indeed
We know not if he is — by whom our years
Are portioned, who the orphan moons doth lead.
And the unfathered spheres.
We sit unowned upon our burial sod,
And know not whence we come or whose we be,
Comfortless mourners for the mount of God,
The rocks of Calvary :
Bereft of Heaven, and of the long-loved page
Wrought us by some who thought with death to cope ;
Despairing comforters, from age to age
Sowing the seeds of hope :
Gracious deceivers, who have lifted us
Out of the slough where passed our unknown youth :
Beneficent liars, who have gifted us
With sacred love of truth !
Farewell to them : yet pause ere thou unmoor
And set thine ark adrift on unknown seas ; —
How wert thou bettered so, or more secure.
Thou and thy destinies 1
" Throiujh a Glass Darkly r 37
And if thou searchest, and art made to fear
Facing of unread riddles dark and hard,
And mastermg not tlieir majesty austere,
Their meaning locked and barred;
How would it make the weight and wonder less,
If, lifted from immortal shoulders doAvn,
The worlds were cast on seas of emptiness,
In realms without a crown,
And (if there were no God) were left to rue
Dominion of the air and of the fire ?
Then if there be a God, " Let God be true,
And every man a Har."
But as for me, I do not speak as one
That is exempt : I am -with life at feud :
My heart reproacheth me, as there were none
Of so smaU gratitude.
"\\Tierewith shall I console thee, heart of mine,
And still thy yearning and resolve thy doubt \
That which I know, and that whicli I divine,
Alas ! have left thee out.
I have aspired to know the might of God,
As, if the story of His love was furled,
Nor sacred foot the grasses e'er had trod
Of this redeemed world : —
Have sunk my thoughts as lead into the deep.
To grojje for that aljyss whence evil gnsw.
And spirits of ill, with eyes tliat cannot weep.
Hungry and desdlutc flew ;
38 English Lyrics.
As if their legions did not one day crowd
The death-pangs of the Conquering Good to see !
As if a sacred Head had never boAved
In death for man — for me ;
iN'or ransomed back the souls beloved, the sons
Of men, from thraldom with the nether kings.
In that dark country where those evil ones
Trail their unhallowed wings.
^o'-
And didst Thou love the race that loved not Thee %
And didst Thou take to Heaven a human brow 1
Dost plead with man's voice by the marvellous sea 1
Art Thou his kinsman now]
God, Kinsman loved, but not enough !
Man, with eyes majestic after death.
Whose feet have toiled along our pathways rough.
Whose lips drawn human breath !
By that one likeness which is ours and Thine ;
By that one nature wliich doth hold lis kin ;
By that high Heaven where, sinless, Thou dost shine,
To draw us sinners in ;
By Thy last silence in the judgment-hall ;
By long foreknowledge of the deadly tree ;
By darkness, by the wormwood and the gall,
I pray Thee visit me.
Come, lest this heart should, cold and cast away.
Die ere the Guest adored she entertain —
Lest eyes which never saw Thine earthly day
Should miss Thy heavenly reign.
"Through a Glass DarJcJi/." Si)
Come, weary-eyed from seeking iu the night
Thy wanderers strayed upon the pathless wold,
Who wounded, dying, cry to Thee for light.
And cannot tiud their fold.
And deign, Watcher with the sleepless brow,
Pathetic in its yearnmg — deign reply :
Is there, oh, is there aught that such as Thou
Wouldst take from such as 1 1
.Vre there no briars across Thy pathway tlirust /
Are there no thorns that compass it about 1
Xor any stones that Thou wilt deign to trust
My hands to gather out 1
Oh, if Thou wilt, and if such bliss might be.
It were a cure for doubt, regret, delay, —
Let my lost pathway go — what ailetli me 1 —
There is a better way.
AVhat though unmarked the hajjpy workman toil,
^Vnd break unthanked of man the stubborn clod I
It is enough, for sacred is the soil,
Dear are the hills of God.
far better in its jilace the lowliest bird
.Should sing aright to Him the lowliest son^jk
Than that a seraph strayed should take the won.1
And sing His glory wrong.
Jkan' I.vgeix)w.
40
THE NEW SONG.
.^EYOND the hills where suns go down,
3SilWy^t< -^^ brightly beckon as they go,
I see the land of far renown.
The land which I so soon shall know.
;y
Above the dissonance of time,
And discord of its angry words,
I hear the everlasting chime,
The music of unjarring chords.
I bid it welcome ; and my haste
To join it cannot brook delay :
song of morning, come at last.
And ye who sing it, come away !
song of light, and dawn, and bliss,
Sound over earth, and fill these skies ;
]S^or ever, ever, ever cease
Thy soul-entrancing melodies.
Glad song of this disburdened earth.
Which holy voices then shall sing ;
Praise for creation's second birth,
And glory to creation's King.
41
THE SACRED FISHERMAN.
ti^
E gave his fresh young heart to God,
Nor shrank the cross to bear ;
< ' Tlie narrow way of hfe he trud,
With watch, and fast, and prayer.
\ To Him who gave Himself he gave,
Not man's imperfect good,
^ But a new heart Clirist died to save,
Washed in His precious blood.
II No labour hard, no suffering loss,
So only he might prove
How cheerfully he bore his cross
For the dear sake of love.
And at His word, into the deep
He launched, his toils ^o set,
Though many a night, while others sleep.
He draws an empty net.
Yet, at the bidding of his Lord,
He casts that net again, —
His strength, the warrant of His word ;
His i)ri7.e, the souls of nun.
42 English Lyrics.
And day and niglit he seeks to wiji,
As sinks and swells life's tide,
Out of the troubled depths of sin,
Souls for Avhich Jesus died.
ITntU the wished-for morn appear,
And he, toihvorn, at last
Feels that that precious gift is near
Which well o'erpays the past.
The teeming net, which yields at length,
Tor labour long and hard,
For broken health and vanished strength.
More than its full reward, —
In life's deep waters, o'er its shoals.
Spread henceforth never more, —
The net is broken, bvit the souls
Are gathered in to shore.
Kev. J, B. S. MoNSELL, LL.D.
43
FliAGMEXTS OF A LONG-PONDERED POEM.
HAT MTatli Divine I sin", "whose "bitter
curse
'd-AJL^-lh) "With liis high presence, was -with armies
^^ji\-//K j^^ Q^ jjgj. cfladness into niournin" turned
-:^.*2^ n Weighed heavy on tlie race chosen of God;
•i^^lA-i^^ "W^iat time the Holy City, favoured once
/Jr^^f Say, thou Avho once above Jerusalem
-/l. ^3^o Didst sheathe thy glittering sword. Angel
/^(^^^ of Death!
"When the forewarned king his altar reared,
Humble, on Oman's floor : for thou dost know
Wliat first, what last, in process dread, went forth
From the Eternal's armoury of wrath :
Sorrow too vast for human heart to hold,
Destruction past example in all time.
J5ut chiefly Thou, to whcjiii the thoughts of men
Lie bare and open, from Thine inner stores
Take of the things Divine, and show them me:
Much sought by nightly prayer and daily toil,
Shine on Thy servant, foolish else, and dark,
44 English Lyrics.
And all unfit to meditate high themes ;
But haply, in Thy light beholding light,
Some rays of Truth, though dimmed, he may reflect
Into the haunt and concourse of mankind.
And utter forth, in strains of solemn verse,
God's voice of warning to the sons of men.
Tell first, what cause of moment did incite
Abraham's Lord and Isaac's Fear, to thrust
Thus hotly from His presence, whom His arm
So long had shielded — whom He planted in
The mountain of His own inheritance ?
For not the murmurs on their desert path,
Massah, nor Meribah, nor those false signs
Eemphan and Moloch, nor the offerings vile
Of Baal-peor, grieved Thee, Spirit Divine,
As this ; nor all the foul idolatries
Of Israel, or more cherished Judah, drove
The God of Jacob to cast off His own.
Nor yet that day, when Babylon's fierce king
Slew in the sanctuary all the flower of youth,
And burned the house of God, till that the land
Enjoyed her sabbaths, might with this compare ;
So foul the slaughter was : without, within.
Inexorable vengeance withoiit stint
Launched its red shafts against the fated race.
Say, then, what cause aroused such wrath in Heaven ?
The cry of holy blood : that on the soil
Eelentless poured, sent upward unto God
Its dread and silent witness evermore :
Prophet, and priest, and heaven-sent messengers
Cast out and foidly slain : but chiefly His,
That Man of sorrows * * * *
Fragments of a Long-Pondered Poem.
II.
Xow had the Son of God His upward path
Accomplished to Heaven's gates, which open stood
Greeting the Victor : He, for thus seemed best.
Alone, as all alone He had achieved
His mighty errand, tlirough the yielding air
Buoyant, those adamantine portals passed,
But not unwelcomed : such a shout hurst forth
From all Heaven's armies, now in order bright
Marshalled; and through clear ether jubilant,
Ten thousand times ten thousand sweetest notes
Swelled the fuU concord, while unnumbered harps
"Woke into rapturous music : " Lo, He comes ;
The Saviour of the world ; the mighty Lord !
All power is given to Him in Heaven and earth ;
The Name that is above all other names,
That before Him should every creature bow !"
He through the middle way of highest Heaven
Passed meekly on. Love from His countenance
Shed softest light, blended with purest joy ;
And as He went, effulgent streams of flame.
Kindled by recent glory reassumed.
Thickened around Him : Heaven beneath sent up
Her fragrant incense, witli thick-springing flowers
Bursting in various hues ; with native pearl
And flexile ruby, as a bride bedecked.
Now had the Saviour to the holiest place
Approached, where from the Father's secret Throne
Issues the counsel of the will Divine.
This reached, He stood, first man of all our race
Ajipearing at the judgment-seat of God ;
4G English Lyrics.
In death, by His own power subduing death,
Spotless from sin ; the Godhead into flesh
Not turned, but taking manhood into God.
Forthwith, unwonted radiance, pure and mild
(For gaze, though of the clearest sight in Heaven, .
That Throne erewhile endured not), issued forth ;
So that all faces, reverently bent
In lowly worship, beamed with silent joy.
The while the voice Divine approval spoke :
" Sit Thou on My right hand, until I make
Thy foes Thy footstool ; bring within the veil
Thine human form, thus pure in righteousness ;
Be Thou the King and Judge of Heaven and earth ;
Stand Thou beside the Throne for man ; here plead
Thy merits, and with grateful sacrifice
Be Thou the great High Priest, by whom alone
Shall man draw nigh to God, and meet with grace."
To whom the Saviour thus in prayer replied :
" Father, I will that on the race of men
Thou shouldst bestow another Comforter,
That He may ever with My Church abide ;
Even the Spirit of truth, -whom I "will send.
My promise made of old, now due by Me."
Thus spake the Son of God : and over Heaven
Effluent, as an odour from deep fields of balm,
Passed the Almighty Spirit : not then first
Sent forth ******
Fragments of a Long-Pondered Poem. 47
III.
A lone place hy the Garden of Gethsmiane,
First Christian. A voice from the East !
Prophets (unseen). Ann of the Lord, awake !
Second Christian. A voice from the West !
Martyrs (unseen). Sword of the Lord, come fortli I
First Chris. Seven nights, as I benoatli the starry skies
"Wandered, in heavenly contemplation rapt.
Have those drear sounds been uttered on mine ear.
Second Chris. Seven nights, in flashes through the
duskv air.
Mysterious visitants have come and gone ;
And all Mount Zion, and Moriah's hill,
TAnnkle with sudden gleams of spear and sliiiLl.
First Chris. To-day at sunrise were we breaking bread ;
And when the hpnn, " Thrice Holy," passed away,
Sweet voices in the air took up the strain, —
" Glory to Thee, Lord most high," they sung.
Majestic angel-voices juliilant :
And then, like mighty forests heanl from far,
Itesponsive breathed unnumbered hosts around.
Second Chris. Hear yet. 'Tis said that some have
seen the Lord :
How on yon Mount of Olives yesternight
He stood — and sternly o'er the city towers
Lifted His piercW Hand. Certain it is,
Th<3 cup of wrath is full — the doom is near ;
The day of vengeance of the Elect is come !
Gabriel (unseen). Arise — depart !
48 English Lyrics.
IV.
Ephesus. A sick cliamher. Tlie liolij Angels tcatching by
a bed. They sing softly.
Thou that art highly favoured, once more Hail !
Not now with maiden blush
Starting at the sudden guest
Speaking o'er thee salutation strange :
Not now among thy flowers
Sitting shaded from the noon, thyself
Fairest lily of all Palestine — -
Yet once more Hail !
Thou that art hlessed among women, Hail !
Hail to Thy feebleness.
Evening glory of Thine hoary head,
Western brightness of Thine heavenward eye,
Lit now by faith and hope ;
Foremost Thou of all the saintly band,
Standing on the brink of Jordan stream.
Once more Hail !
Mother of God Incarnate, Hail, all hail !
Hail, flower of womanhood ;
Sweetly slumbering at whose favoured breast
Jesus, holy Child, drew human strength :
At whose deep fond eyes
Daily gazing, in long draughts He drew
Human love, to blend with power Divine :
Hail, all hail !
******
Henry Alford, D.D.
Deaii of Canterbury.
49
THE RECOLLECriOX OF A
PICTURE.
E are like children in the meadows i)laying,
AVhere flowers, arc thickest and the grass
is long;
Often by caverned rocks our course delaying,
Or \vhere the brook is rushing fast and
strong ;
^ To far ott" dells and woodlands often
straying,
Led onwards by the flitting wild biixl's
song.
A great full river through the land is flowing,
That will not i)ausc one moment on its
way;
Swift to the distant ocean ever going,
Axi^ on its glassy mirror day by day
'■%Sel~ Pictures of earth and heaven truly show-
^-3 ing,_
The lights of sunrise, and the evening grey.
We, of our Itinries hourly growing fonder.
Like wayward children on a summer morn.
In joy or disappoiutment wildly wander,
Fitful a.s leaves upon the breezes borne;
Nor waiting on the thought of night to ponder,
Till evening finds us weary and forlorn.
\'^V
oO English Lyrics.
We climb and toil to prove our wanton poAver ;
We slumber in the clover's fragrant nest ;
We fly from flower to fruit, from fruit to flower,
And linger in the paths we love the best, —
Uut Avhen our limbs are torn, and tempests lower.
We backwards turn, and think of seeking rest.
Heart-sick and worn, our feet and hands all bleeding.
We think of tvirning back, and finding Thee,
Shepherd ! Avho in the dawn Thy flock wast leading
Ey stony paths, through wastes with scarce a tree ;
But now, the quiet sheep around Thee feeding.
Dost pause awhile on yonder flowery lea.
Thou, earlier in the day, oiir Avays discerning,
Didst call us to accept Thy sheltering care,
Whilst we, with youth and passion inly burning,
Willed not Thy gviidance or Thy love to share ;
But homewards now by twilight skies returning.
We strain our sight and long to see Thee there.
With children's hearts, with children's tears appealing.
We come to tell how sweets have turned to sours ;
Our griefs and disappointed hopes revealing.
We show Thee cankered fruits and faded flowers ;
Or at Thy knees in passionate sorrow kneeling,
Feel safe, because Thy hand is holding ours.
Ah ! pitying One, for us so long abiding !
All that has wearied us we tell to Thee, —
" In that fair grove there was a serpent hiding,
Tlie Recollection of a Picture. 51
"Wliicli, as I stooped, the dew-Lright buds to see,
Unseen into my bosom s^^'iftly gliding,
Twined closely round my heart and poisoned me.
" Tliis flower so wondrous in its j^ristine glory,
"\Miich my heart loved as queen flower of the Spring —
I cannot tell the whole long tearful story, —
How soon it withered like a moaner thinsr !
And now my hand is Avounded all and gory,
For in my grasp it left a thorny sting,"
All, blest the children in Thy presence staying,
"NMio, when they gather flowers, bring them to Thee !
Xor in the distant fields make long delaj'^ing.
But in Thy range of sight feel glad and free,
-Vnd find a joy Thy law of love obeying,
]\Iore happy near Thee than afar to lie !
Dear Lord ! with pity all my griefs allaying,
Give this pure life of faith and peace to me.
From "The House among the Hills.''
52
THE SOUL-DIRGE.
• Then said Jesus, Will ye also go away ? ' '
St. John vi. 67.
HE organ played sweet music
Wliileas, on Easter-day,
All heartless from tlie altar,
The heedless went away ;
And down the broad aisle crowding,
They seemed a funeral train
^\H'^ That were burying then* spirits
"^'' To the music of that strain.
As I listened to the organ,
And saw them crowd along,
I thought I heard two voices
Speaking strangely, but not strong ;
And one it whispered sadly,
" Will ye also go away 1 "
But the other spoke exulting,
" Ha ! the soul-dirge ! — hear it play !
Hear the soul-dirge ! hear the soul-dirge !
And see the feast Divine !
Ha ! the jewels of salvation,
And the trampling feet of swine !
I
I
Tlie Soul- Dirge. oo
Hear the soul-dirge ! Ixear the soul-dirge !
Little think they, as they go,
AMiat priceless pearls they tread on,
AMio spurn their Saviour so.
Hear the soul-dirge ! hear the soid-dirge !
It was dread to hear it play,
^\nule the famishing went crowding
From the IJread of Life away.
They were bidden, they were hidden
To their Father's festal board ;
liut they all, with gleeful faces.
Turned their back upon the Lord.
You had thought the Church a prison,
Had you seen how they did pour,
With giddy, giddy faces.
From the consecrated door.
Tliore was Angels' food all ready,
J kit the bidden, where were they 1
( )'er the highways and the hedges.
Ere the soul-dirge ceased to play.
Oh, the soul-dirge, liow it cchued
. The emptied aisles along.
As the 0{)en street grew crowded
With the full (jutpouring throng ;
And then — again the voices,
" Ila ! the soul-dirge ! — licar it jilay ! "
And the pensive, pensive whisjK'r,
" \Vill ye also go away ? "
54 English Lyrics.
Few, few were they that lingered
To sup with. Jesus there ;
And yet, for all that spurned Him
There was plenty, and to spare ;
And now the food of Angels
Uncovered to my sight, —
All glorious was the altar.
And the chalice glittered bright.
»
Then came the hymn Trisagion,
And rapt me up on high.
With angels and archangels
To laud and magnify.
I seemed to feast in Heaven ;
And downward wafted then,
"With Angels chanting round me,
Good-will and peace to men.
I may not tell the rapture
Of a banquet so Di\dne ; —
Ho ! every one that thirsteth.
Let Mm taste the Bread and Wine :
Hear the Bride and Spirit saying,
"Will ye also go away % "
Or, — go, poor soul, for ever !
Oh, the soul-dirge ! — hear it play !
Arthur Cleveland Coxe, D.]).,
Lord BiaJwj} of Western New York.
oo
MARAH.
" And when they came to Marah, tliey could not di-ink of tht
waters of ilarah, for they were bitter." — Exodus xv. 23.
OD sends us bitter, that the sweet,
J5y absence known, may sweeter prove ;
As dark for light, as cold for heat
Urings greater love.
Ciod sends lis bitter, as to show
He can both sweet and bitter send ;
That both the might and love we know
Of our great Friend.
He sends us bitter, lest too gay
We wreathe around <nir heads the rose.
And count our riglit, what Heaven each day
As alms bestows.
God sends us bitter, lest we fail
That bitterest Grief aright to prize,
^Vhicli did fur all the world avail
III II is own eyes.
56 English Lyrics.
God sends us bitter, all our sins
Embittering ; yet so kindly sends,
The path that bitterness begins
In sweetness ends.
He sends us bitter, that Heaven's sweet,
Earth's bitter o'er, may sweeter taste ;
As Canaan's ground to Israel's feet,
Eor that great waste.
Our passions murmur and rebel,
But Eaith cries out unto the Lord,
And prayer by patience worketh well
Its own reward :
For, if our heart the lesson draws
Aright, by bitter chastening taught.
To keep His statutes and His laws
Even as we ought,
He openeth our eyes to see
(Eyes that our pride of heart had sealed)
The sweetness of Life's heavenly Tree,
And grief is healed.
And lo ! before us in the way
We view the fountains and the palms,
And drink, and pitch our tents, and stay
Singing sweet psalms.
Charles Lawrence Ford.
o/
''HE GIVETII SONGS IX THE
xinnr:'
E ])raise Tlioe oft for hours of Wisf;,
For days of quiet rest ;
r>ut oh, how seldom do we feel
I'hat ]tain and tears are host !
We praise Thee for the shining snii,
For kind and gladsome ways :
"When shall Ave learn, O Lord, to sing
Through weary nights and days ]
^^'e praise Thee when o\ir path is plain,
And smooth beneath our feet.
But foin would learn to welcome pain,
^J And call the bitter sweet.
"\\1ien rises first the blush of hope,
Our hearts begin to sing ;
Hut surely not for this alone
.Should we our gladness bring.
Are there no hours of conflict fierce,
No weary toils and ])ain8,
No watchings arnl no bitterness,
Tbat bring their blessed gains ? —
English Lyrics.
That bring their blessed gains full well,
In truer faith and love,
And patience sweet, and gentleness,
From our dear Home above 1
Teach Thou our weak and wandering hearts
Aright to read Thy way, —
That Thou with loving hand dost trace
Our history every day.
Then every thorny crown of care,
Worn well in patience now,
Shall grow a glorious diadem.
Upon the faithful brow :
And every word of grief shall change,
And wave a blessed flower.
And lift its face beneath our feet.
To bless us every hour :
And Sorrow's face shall be unveiled,
And we at last shall see
Her eyes are eyes of tenderness.
Her speech but echoes Thee.
John Page Horps.
59
BEST.
"I say let the great sea of my soul, that swelleth witli the waves,
calm itself in Thee — S. Augustixe.
! I'E'S mystery, deep restless as the ocean,
Hath surged and wailed for ages to and
fro ;
Earth's generations "watch its ceaseless
motion,
As in and out its hollow moanings flow :
Shivering and yearning by that unknown
sea,
Let my soul calm itself, Christ ! in Thee.
Life's sorrows, "with inexorable power.
Sweep desolation o'er the mortal plain ;
And human hopes and loves fly as the chaff,
Lome by the wliirlwind from the ripened grain.
Ah ! when before that blast my hopes all flee.
Let my soul calm itself, O Christ ! in Thue.
'i?.
Between the mysteries of death and life
Thou stande.st: loving guiding, not explaining
We ask, and Thou art sik-nt : yet we gaze,
And our charmed hearts forget their drear coni-
jdaining.
60 English Lyrics.
No cruslimg fate, no stony destiny,
Thou Lamb that has been slain, we rest in Thee.
The many waves of thought, the mighty tides,
The groundswell that rolls up from other lands,
From far off worlds, from dim eternal shores
Wliose echo dashes on life's wave-worn strands :
This vague dark tumult of the inner sea
Grows calm, grows bright, risen Lord, in Thee.
Thy pierced Hand guides the mysterious wheel.
Thy thorn-crowned brow now wears the crown of
power,
And when the dark enigma presseth sore.
Thy patient voice saith, " Watch with Me one hour."
As sinks the moaning river in the sea.
In silver peace, so sinks my soul in Thee.
Harriet Beecher Stowe.
01
CLOUDS.
CAXNOT look above, and see
Yon high-piled, pillowy mass
Of evening clouds, so swimmingly
In golil and purple jiass,
And think not. Lord, how Thou wast seen
On Israel's desert way,
Tie fore them, in Thy shadowy screen
Pavilioned all the day ; —
Or of those robes of gorgeous hue
Which the lledeemer wore,
AVhen, ravished from His followers' view,
Aloft His flight He bore ;
"When, lifted as on mighty Aving,
He curtained His ascent,
And, wrapt in clouds, went triumphing
Above the firinamcnt.
Is it a trail of that same ^11
Of many-coloured dyes,
That high above, o'ermantling all,
Hangs ini<lway down the skies i
( )r Ixu'dcrs of those swccjiing folds
Which shall be all unfurled
Abfiut the Saviour, when 1I(! holds
His judgment on the world I
62
English Lyrics.
For in like manner as He went
(My soul, hast Thou forgot ])
Shall be His terrible descent,
When man expecteth not.
Strength, Son of man ! agamst that hour,
Be to our spirits given,
"\Anien Thou shalt come again, with power,
Upon the clouds of heaven.
Eev. William Croswell, D.D.
^jT
i
()0
SUXSET WITH CLOUDS.
^^J^.
TIE oavth grows dark aliout me,
Eut Heaven sliiiu'S clear above.
As (laj-liglit slowly melts away
With the crimson light I love ;
And clouds, like floating shadows,
Of every form and hue.
Hover around its dying couch,
And blush a bright adieu.
Like fiery forms of Angels
They throng around the sun ;
Courtiers that on their monarch wait
Until his course is run :
I'rom him they take their glory.
His honour they uphold ;
And trail their flowing garments forth
Of purple, green, and gold.
O bliss to gaze upon them
From this commanding hill.
Ami drink the spirit of the honi-.
While all around is still ;
While di-stant skies are oj)ening
And stretching far away,
A shadowy landscape dijipi-d in gold.
Where happier sj)irit8 stniy.
64 English Lyrics.
I feel myself immortal,
As in yon robe of light
The glorious hills and vales of Heaven
Are dawning on the sight :
I seem to hear the murmur
Of some celestial stream,
And catch the glimmer of its course
Beneath the sacred beam,
Axvdi such, methinks with rapture,
Is my eternal Home- —
More lovely than this passing glimpse —
To which my footsteps roam :
There's something yet more glorious
Succeeds this life of pain ;
And, strengthened with a mightier hope,
I face the world a^ain.
LVQl
Eev. Gerrard Lewis, B.A.
WATTIXG FOR SPIilXG.
^ AITIXG for Spring ! The mother, watchmg
lonely
By her sick child ■when all the night is
>y-^^ ^"^ Hearing no sound save his hoarse breathing
only,
Saith, "He Avill rally when the Spring
[^^^^^i^^-t days come."
^ i"^ V'O^ AVaiting for 8i)ring ! Ah me, all nature
^ A tarries,
^/J As motionless and cold she lies asleep,
:Ii Wrapt in her green i)ine rohe that never
varies,
"Wearing out Winter l)y this southern
deep.
The tints are too iinhroken on the bosom
Of those great woods ; we Avant some light green
.shoots ;
We want the white and reel acacia l)lossom.
The Ijlue life liid in all these russet roots.
Waiting for Spring ! The hearts of men are wateliing,
Eiicli for some better, ])rigliter, fairer tiling ;
Ivach ear a distant sound nujst sweet is catching,
A herald of the beauty of liid Siiring.
(^6 English Lyrics.
"Waiting for Spring ! The nations in tlieir anger,
Or deadlier torpor wrapt, look onward, still
Feel a far hope through all their strife and languor,
And better spirits in them throb and tlirill.
Waiting for Spring ! Christians are waiting ever,
Body and soul by sin and pain bowed down ;
Look for the time when all these clouds shall sever,
See high above the cross a flowery crown.
Waiting for Spring ! Poor hearts ! how oft ye weary,
Looking for better things, and grieving much !
Earth lieth still, though all her bowers be dreary ;
She trusts her God, nor thrills but at His touch.
It must be so, — the man, the soul, the nation.
The mother by her child — we wait, we wait,
Dreaming out futures ; life is expectation,
A grub, a root that holds our higher state.
Waiting for Spring — the germ for its perfection.
Earth for all charms by light and colour given,
The body for its robe of resurrection,
Sovds for their Saviour, Christians for our Heaven.
Cecil Ekances Alexander.
07
THE HARVEST MOON.
^<^^^::^
IIIXES the Harvest Moon full Ijiiglitly
O'er the billows of the sea ;
Shines the Harvest ^loon full softly
O'er the upland and the lea :
.Shines the Harvest Moon full (queenly,
"With her chaste and silver light,
"W^ith all nature sleeping gently
In the silence of the night.
Shone the Harvest JNIoon as brightly
O'er the billows of the sea ;
Shone the Harvest Moon as softly
O'er the upland and the lea :
Shone the Harvest Moon as queenly •
As she shineth even now,
Though her light, alas ! Avas shining
( )ii a dying maiden's brow !
Full of sorrow, watching sadly.
As we stood about the bed,
In the midnight silence thinking
Of the spirit that had 11(m1 !
With the Harvest Moon briglit shinin
In lier rich and silv(!r sheen,
O'er the leaves of Autumn falling,
Like the maiden that had been.
68 English Lyrics.
Drooping slowly, slowly failing,
Growing paler every day,
We had watched our fair one flitting
To her Home of love away.
Through the Spring, and through the Summer,
We had marked the paling eye :
Wlien the Harvest Moon was shining,
Came the message from on High !
Once again, so softly speaking,
Once again we heard her say, —
" Close about me, dear ones, standing,
Watch Vl\j spirit flit away !
Let your voices whisper to me
Words of hope and trusting love,
As my spirit passeth onward
To its Home of bliss above !"
Then her faint voice, fainter growing,
As her spirit ebbed still more.
Like the distant surges breaking
On the ocean's sounding shore.
With the Angels she was speaking.
And her face was Avondrous bright ;
Then we knew that God was with her,
That her soul was full of light !
Then we watched the shadow creeping
O'er her pale and fading face ;
Watched it stealing, surely stealing,
All her beauty, light, and grace :
TJie Ilan'etit Moon. 60
'o>
AAliile the Harvest Moon came sliiuiuj,'
As she shineth even now,
Through the casement — shining sadly
On the dying maiden's brow !
In the dead-room, Avatching, watcliing,
In the silence of the night ;
Witli the calm foce softly sleeping
In the moonbeams' silver light ;
With a sad heart, sadly thinking
Of the sister that had fled ;
With a sad heart, sadly weeping
In the presence of the dead !
Rev. T. J. Potter.
70
LOST LOVE.
HEY err who say that love alway
Eegetteth like, and finds return ;
Else surely all the world to-day
Eor Clirist would yearn.
Else the dark legions of the lost
Would quick remount their native sky ;
Eor though Almighty Love be crossed,
It cannot die.
But Love may breathe his hottest fire
On hearts that as the ice remain.
And lavish measureless desire
But scorn to gain.
And therefore, if with will unbound
The God of love would served be.
And love's sweet song must sweeter sound
If love be free, —
Then may a creature proudly will
That love for ever to deny,
And, by that hatred holding still.
For ever die.
Charles Lawrence Eord.
71
S. PAUL IX THE DESERT.
"I went into Arabia." — Galatians i. 17.
:rL^,AE, far behind, as cliildliood from a man,
Damascus and her meads, and whispering
streams,
Her wealth of summer gardens — all are
fled.
Xo plashing fountain, in the mountain's
sliade.
Sprinkles each fragrant breeze with pearly
dew;
But o'er the Desert broods a (j^uivering
haze,
And the lean sands, in ghastly phantom -
shape,
"Writlie like that host, whom, in their mid-
night camp,
The angel of the Lord smote.
Wlio sleeps there,
'Xoath the black curtain of yon stifling tent ?
Xo living thing along those ocean sands,
Save this lost man, with yellow tatti-red rijbc.
Half shadowed from tlie glare, — so like to deatli.
72 English Lyrics.
That but for sigliing heavings of his chest,
But for uncertain twitching of parched lips,
Faint tliroh of sunburnt pulse, one might have deemed
Him friendless robber, — fallen foot to foot
With man's remorseless Foe, while near him moans
His faithful camel, patient in its pain.
Hush ! slowly, sadly, from that haggard mouth,
While the dark eyes, beneath a massive brow,
Flash with prophetic light, mysterious falls
The Burden of the Lord, as thunder-rain.
" Alone Avitli God at last ! — outside the world,
Its petty round of prying questionings,
Unqiiiet soul, I have obeyed thy voice ;
At last alone with God ! — yon far-off speck.
Or ravenous vulture hastening to the corpse,
Or robber plunderer, only makes to me
Arabia's desolation more profound.
" With God alone at last ! — In other days,
I knew Him in the records of the Past,
The storied roll of Israel ; could feel
How He, The Monarch wise, omnipotent,
Parted the deep, with pillared cloud of lire
Palled the swift circles of each day and night.
Of old, whole nights alone with God I watched.
Where marshy Issus faced the seething bay.
Could hear the hum of Persian chariot wheels,
While through the blood-flecked pass the warrior fled,
With battle-bow and shield left on the plain
That gave the keys of all the world to INIacedon.
S. Paul ill the Desert. 73
/o
" Alone witli God ! — From boyhood I have scaled
The glacier-tields of Taurus, when the sun
Painted each Hushed snow-peak with deathliness ;
( )r where the Cydnus, clad in virgin foam,
Kissed graceful i>alms, or citron's scented lips.
While evening sang her olden, touching strain,
Have I not dreamt of far-olf worlds and hopes,
r>y bay or crag, or in some stream-swept glen,
That left no solitude where God was not.
" But this is loneliness ! — outside the Avorld
< )f earthly love and longing here to lie,
-Vnd fuel a voiceless wonder in the sky,
,\.s if a Love more liigh, a Face more pure.
Than hers whom men have pictured in young dreams,
As troubling all their manhood with one look.
Clasped me with such a mighty charm, as passed
The love of women. Dh ! not I, but He,
Should speak of Love ! that scorching ride at noon,
Dread lurid brilliance, as with thirsty hoofs
"We whirled the sands, and I, fallen headlong, heard,
Amid my comnides' shouting, heard a voice,
-\jid felt, as I drooped stunned, a tender hand
Laid on my heart-strings, waking into life
-V thousand deep unutterable hopes.
Of one descending from God's awful slopes,
That shine across the bhu; rim of the seas.
" (ih ! love to such as me ! — not I, but He,
Should tell of Love !
Strange Future, that art spread
r>eforo me, where I fear to enter in, and do
As He would bid me : — this unworthy hand.
1 English Lyrics.
That gripped a battle-blade against His Cliurcli,
To touch the Sacred Food ! — to bear afar,
'Mid unknoAvn isles, an untaught Gentile world,
The baptism I have hardly learnt of Love !
HoAv dare I say, ' Lord, here am I ; send me ' 1
And yet Thy love constrains me ; — in its might
I am no longer I, but I in Him.
" See yonder old man, with a shei^herd's staff,
Wandering through city, desert, on the sea.
Trembling and frail, yet with one story, full
Of Love, — God's love to him, and his for God !
Yet look again. —
The old man fills a cell,
That hangs above a city's roaring street ; —
Outside, a sentry's clanging tramp ; — and near,
Eough laughter from a Eoman barrack-room.
1^0 man stands by him, where he feebly bends
O'er the planked table, as he slowly writes
To a far Church. —
Behold, amid the gloom.
On the stone floor a pathway of soft light
Heralds the footstep of a King. No key,
No challenge from the sentinel outside
Proclaims His voiceless coming ; — there He stands,
Radiant in love, such as pure woman's soul.
When most unselfish, never dreamt or felt.
" The King ! — no longer wearing beggar's robes !
And yet, like one who to high state hath won
His perilous path, Avould fain look back to home,
To boyish loves, and playmates, fields and streams,
Would keep some poor love-token of the days
When he Avas all iinknown, waiting his fame.
S. Paul ill the Dt'tiert.
lO
A thoughtful boy, heir of a deathless dawn : —
So, my dear Lord, thou wearest upon Thine Hands
Eed nail-prints, — in Thy Side the rent
Torn by the spear-point, — on Thy Holy Brow
The fiery circlet of the thorns ! —
AVhat foce,
Lord, like Thine 1 — no prison, where Thou art. —
The old man lifts his head, — 'tis I myself,
Made pure through sulfering. There, before my King,
On the wet stones I kneel ; till The Great Priest
Dazzling absolves me, — prisoner of the Lord."
Hex. Al.vx Lkudrick, ]\i.A.
76
THE CHURCH RESTORED.
^H^^^^ 00 long, fair slirine ! did dull decay
prevailing,
Thy tottering roof and sunken columns
claim.
Like Dead Sea fruits, in Leauty unavailing,
The crumbled carvings and the moulder-
ing frame.
Yet from those ashes we behold Thee
rearing
Once more majestic, the fresh fabric
wrought ;
The graceful shafts, the chiselled wreaths appearing,
Types of new strength and beauty to our thought.
And may we trust that here is no vain seeming,
Type of new vows, symbol of brighter days ;
JSTor idly gaze we, of the future deeming
That here young hearts shall gush in living praise.
" Thither the tribes go up ! " — anew repairing,
"With proffered gifts, our Zion ! to thy shrine.
They who have wandered shall, thy blessing sharing,
Breathe deeper thankfulness in songs Divine.
And pray we for thy peace, Salem ! — Mother !
Home for the homeless, refuge for the poor ;
Blest be the ministering hands that aid each other,
Thy beauty to renew, thy shelter to restore.
Cecil Frances Alexander.
i i
THE GIVER AXD THE GIFTS.
J lUl path T trod so pleasant was and fair,
, „ . • I counted it life's best ;
^^^ Forgetting that Thou, Lord, hadst placed
me there,
To journey toAvards TI13- rest.
Forgetting that the path Avas only good
Because tlie homeward mux,
I held it fullest beauty where I stood,
I thought these gleams the day.
I know I might have seen in every star
That sheds its light on me,
A lamp of Thine, set out to guide from far
My steps towards home and Thee ; —
Have heard in streams Avith bending grasses clad,
AVhich sparkled tlirough the sod,
Tlie music of the river that makes glad
The city of our God ; —
In llowers plucke<l but to Avitln-r in my hand,
Or passed Avith lingering feet,
Have read my Father's promise of a land
Where flowers are still more SAveet.
7s English Lyrics.
And I have knelt, how often, tlianking Thee
For "what Thy love hath given,
Then turned away to bend to these my knee.
And seek in these my Heaven.
Forgive me that I, looking for the day.
Forgot whence it would shine ;
And turned Thy helps to reasons for delay.
And loved not Thee but Thine.
Yet most for the cold heart -with which I write
Of sin so faintly felt ; —
This frost of doubt, this darkness as of night.
Thy love can cheer and melt.
On me unworthy shed, Lord, the glow
Of Thy dear Kght and love,
That I may walk with trusting faith below,
Towards the fair land above ;
That I may learn in all Thy gifts to see
The love that on me smiled,
And find in all I have a thought of Thee,
Who thus hast blessed Thy child ;
And most in what Thy tenderest love hath given —
Those to my heart most dear ;
May I through these look upward to Thy Heaven,
In these find Thee most near.
Lucy Fletcher.
7i)
THE THREE JIEUISMEX.
" There ai-e diversities of operations, but it is the same God whitli
worketh all in all." — 1 Couintuiaxs xii.
ITIIIX my bark I wept, and saitl,
" Woe, woe unto me ! Life hath fled
From my dear hehnsman ! Hope is dead I"
Xight gathered o'er dead Hope and me,
As drifting onward, out to sea,
VTa neared a trackless mystery.
Tlie keen, forked lightning redly flashed,
Tlirough midnight darkness thunders crashed,
And Avild waves madly o'er me dashed.
Xo beacon's light could I descry,
Xo star shone forth from that black sky.
As Avith my Dead I sought to die.
The Past alone to me was clear ;
\i^}j} The Present was a realm of fear ;
Till,' Future brought no thought of cheer.
niroughout that night of blank despair.
My tears in showers bedewed Hojie's hair ;
Madly I yearned his death to share.
80 English Lyrics.
My hand witliiii his hand did rest,
My lips to his cold lips were pressed,
My breast was laid upon his breast.
Long was that night. At length pale morn
Gazed forth, midst storm-clouds wildly torn
By adverse winds, with eyes forlorn.
Then sank o'er me a trance-like swoon.
Soothing and soft, most heavenly boon !
N^or woke I till the hour of noon.
Then, lo ! a bright new silken sail
Floated above me in the gale.
Laden with scents from hill and dale.
And a new helmsman sat and steered
My little bark, which smoothly neared
A glorious strand where palms upreared
Their feathery heads against a blue
And cloudless sky, athwart which flcAv
Bright-pinioned birds, of rainbow hue.
I lay and looked Avithout amaze.
And looking met that helmsman's gaze ;
Then flashed upon me through a haze
Of memories A^ague, the thought that he
^N'o more my helmsman, Hope, could be,
Although himself I seemed to see,
"Weeping, I fell upon my face ;
"Weeping, because in his old place
I still beheld the ancient grace,
The Three Helmsmen. 81
Yet knew it coukl not be the same ;
Knew that another \mkno^\ni name
My love, my gi-atituJe would claim.
I sought lost Hope, ^\\i\). mad despair :
His corpse I saw not any^vhere ;
To me no other form Avas fair.
liiither his corpse I would Ixliold,
His corpse within my arms enfold,
Than look on this new helmsman bold.
The glorious strand we soon had passed ;
Again the heavens were overcast ;
Prostrate and riven lay my mast.
Again burst o'er me stormy night ;
Eapt was the hebnsman from my sight :
To God I prayed with all my might, —
Prayed eloquent words Avdth lips unsealed.
When, lo ! my bleeding heart was healed.
Through passionate i)rayer was fresh annealed.
A cadence low, like whispering wind.
Came softly floating through my mind ;
A voice more gentle, tender, kind
Than ever flowed from mortal lips, —
" 'Tis I who guide all human sliips,"
Murmured that voice. " When anguish nips
" The buds of life's fair tree, 'tis I
Will) gleam toilli brightly from on higli.
Proclaiming spirit cannot die.
u
82 Encjlish Lyrics.
" 'Tis I who sate, ere fell the night,
Within thy bark as helmsman bright,
And as dear Hope, thy heart made light.
" 'Tis I who now, as Faith, am steering ;
As spirit now thy heart am cheering,
Whilst the true Port thy bark is nearing.
" Yet fiercer storms will rise, and I
No longer at thy helm shall ply, —
Even, like Hope, must seem to die.
" But let not then thy storm-tossed heart
Despond ; let fear, let pain depart.
Though Faith no longer ply his part.
" A third brave helmsman will arise.
Will gaze upon thee with clear eyes.
Words whispering, wondrous sweet and wise.
" This helmsman. Love, shall make thee blest,
His strong hand steering towards the West,
Unto the Port of Perfect Rest.
" Hope, Faith, and Love are brethren brave.
Who ne'er were tenants of a grave ;
Angels commissioned souls to save.
" Their changing natures ever run
Towards union in the Father, Son,
And Spirit, — mystic Three in One!"
Anna Mary Howitt Watts.
83
.STAIl .SUXG.
.^''M^
|, PEAK to me, lofty stars,
''V- Low in my prison,
Ere from earth's dungeon-bars
^[y soul hath risen ;
I'l)hol(l me Avith liigli hope,
AVhene'er repining,
That hfe hath larger scope
E'en than your shining.
Sing to me, happy stars.
Songs of pure glatlness !
Homes where no discord jars,
Nor mirth is madness !
For here no harj) is foimil
Of perfect stringing —
Ever some mournful sound
Breaks on the singing.
Breathe on me, holy stars,
T*ure airs celestial !
Me from my riglit dchars
Tliis gross terrestrial :
8-i English Lyrics.
Darkens my flickering flame
To Heaven aspiring, —
But yours burns on the same,
Bright and untiring.
Tell me, primeval stars,
Of olden story.
Earth's thousand plagues and wars.
And vanished glory :
Ye, from your ramparts high
Smiling serenely,
Hear Time's dull wheels roll by
O'er cities queenly ;
See flash like falling stars
The proud marauders,
Carving with scimitars
The world's wide borders ;
See nations rise and fall
Like ocean's swelling.
And in the lordly hall
Destruction dwelling.
Wliisper me, trusty stars,
Of things eternal,
The day no darkness mars.
The year all vernal ;
The life complete and rouiid.
Yet still ascending ;
Life that its aim hath found,
I')ut ne'er its ending.
Star Sovg. So
Koll on, t) glorious stars,
God's praise fortli singing,
Light from your golden cars
()n darkness flin«j;inff.
Till Earth, emerging pure
From fire's refining.
Long as your orbs endure
Rival their shininir.
O"
CUAHLKS LaWKEXCE FoRD,
86
THE ANGEL MESSENGER.
And now men see not the bright light which is in the clouds."^
Job xxxvii. 21.
OEROW ! thou art God's Angel! on thy track
A thousand holy messengers are come,
Calling the wandering child in mercy back ;
Pointing afai", and gently whispering " Home."
Upon thy path we trace the footsteps bright
Of One, Avho for our sakes, with thee hath trod :
His tears stiU gem the thorns, until the light
Blends into radiance— leading on to God.
Down to the fathomless dark depths He passed.
And left a lamp to lighten up the tomb ;
And now, amid the gloom its beams are cast,
The lonely valley's darkness to illume.
Thou art God's Angel, Sorrow ! though thy face,
Veiled by thy shado-\\y Avings, is hid awhile,
Sweet is the message on thy scroll we trace —
A holy rapture hath thy parting smile.
Cowards are we — fain would we pass thee by,
When thou wouldst wake the soul by sin long stained ;
But at thy flight we own thy ministry —
And find-
-we have an Angel entertained.
AwA Shiptox.
87
.5^\^, r^;
LOVE.
^4
OVE among the Saints of God,
Love Avithin the hearts of men,
Love in every kindly sod
Tliat breeds a violet in the glen ;
Love in Heaven, and Love on earth,
Love in all the amorous air ;
"Whence comes Love ? ah ! tell me where
Had such a gracious Presence birth I
Lift thy thoughts to Him, all-knowhig.
In the hallowed courts above ;
From His throne, for ever flo^ving,
Springs the fountain of all Love :
Down to earth the stream descending
Meets the hills, and murmurs then.
In a myriad channels wending.
Through the happy haunts of men.
IJlessM ye, earth's sons and daughters,
Love among you flowing free ;
Cluard, oh ! guard its sacred waters,
Tend on them religiously ;
Let them through your hearts steal sweetly,
With the Spirit wise and bland,
^liiiister unto them meetly,
Touch them not with carnal hand.
Miiiilcn, fashioned .so diviiu-ly.
Whom I worship from afar,
.Smile Thou on my soul benignly
Sweet, my solitary star :
88 English Lyrics.
Gentle harbinger of gladness,
Still be with me on the way ;
Only soother of my sadness,
Always near, though far away :
Always near, since first upon me
Fell thy brightness from above.
And my troubled heart within me
Felt the sudden glow of Love ;
At thy sight that gushing river
Paused, and fell to j)erfect rest,
And the pool of Love for ever
Took thy image to its breast.
Let me keep my passion purely,
Guard its waters free from blame,
Hajlow Love, as knowing surely
It returneth whence it came.
From all channels, good or evil,
Love, to its pure source enticed,
Finds its own immortal level
In the charity of Christ.
Ye who hear, behold the river,
Whence it cometh, whither goes ;
Glory be to God, the Giver,
From whose grace the fountain flows ;
Flows and spreads through all creation.
Counter-charm of every curse,
Love, the waters of Salvation,
Flowing tlirough the universe !
From "Tannhauser; or, the Battle of the Bards."
89
THE HOLY COMMUNION.
fc
J^jf^ S o'er life's dangerous patlis "we sadly tread,
"While passing through this strange and
weary land,
Lo ! a rich Feast of Love for us is spread,
By the nail-pierced Hand.
Fainting and footsore, toil we in the way ;
Xo manna glistens on the desert sod ;
And yet to earnest souls, that kneel and
pray,
There comes the Bread of God.
d
For us there Hoavs no pure life-giving Eill,
Such as for Israel's need of old sufHced ;
Yet here our thirsting s])irits we may till
With the glad AVine of Christ.
Resting beneath Ilis shadow, cool and
sweet.
We gain fresh strength for conilict with
our foes ;
Here tlie lone desert, with its sultry Ik at,
Doth blossom as the rose.
90 English Lyrics.
And though these earthly shadows, dark and dim,
Veil from our sight His blessed Presence now.
Yet Faith exulting lifts her eyes to Him,
And sees the thorn-crowned Brow !
Waves from the ocean of His mighty love
Break in rejoicing on the expectant shore,
Whispering sweet voices of the Land above.
Where storms shall be no more.
Glad then, and sacred to all lowly hearts,
The Table spread by the dear Hands of Christ,
Where He His gifts of blessing still imparts
In Holy Eucharist !
Telling of Calvary and its bitter Cross,
The nails, the thorns, and the spear- wounded Side ;
Bidding us count all earthly things but loss
For love of Him who died.
Pointing vis onward to the Day of Light,
When, 'mid the glories of His Home Divine,
Christ and His Church, in robes of pvu'est white,
Shall drink His own new Wine !
Eev. E. H. Baynes, M.A.
01
HUXTIXG THE WATERFALLS.
P to the source ever !
l-'-vermore back !
Hearts must lack force never,
Hand ne'er be slack.
Tliis is liis duty, and
This is his state,
Hunting the waterfalls
Early and late.
Higher and higher I
^Strive through the glen,
-. Rough, steep, and briary —
Well, and what then ]
. God made it difficult,
W As I may see.
Lest what is beautiful
I'asy should be.
See how they shoot — the rills —
Pure from the mountain ;
Man may jjolluti- tin' lills,
Kever the fountain.
.Streams gatli(;r fulness
Tliat pass through tlu; land,
Waterfalls only ciune
Ture from God's hand.
^- English Lyrics.
On to the sea ever !
On to the sea !
There and there only
My stream can be free ;
There, where the heaven
Just kisses the earth,
There -will it find a more
Glorious birth.
Little stream, little stream.
Dost thou repine
For the pollution that
Now must be thine 1
This at the least be thy
Comfort in strife,
Gathermg fulness, but
Scattering life.
Little stream, little stream,
what a change
When thou art lost in
The wide ocean range !
Little stream, little stream,
Glad mayest thou be ;
Thou shalt be cleansed in
The infinite sea !
Eev. J. M. :N^eale, D.D.
TO UTH RENE WED.
y7y-
I'S ; with silver diusliing
Of a shower just shed,
On the gloomy beech-tree,
"Wet were leaves o'erhead.
"Wet were all tlie roses
On the garden wire,
"VVet were all the corn-lields'
Flakes of yellow fire.
By the gloomy beech-tree.
By the roses wan,
Looking on the corn-fields,
"Whence the gold was gone,
Walked I sadly, thinking,
" I am no more young,"
"WTien, among the dripping
Leaves, a wild bii-d sung.
Ah ! I thought it chanted
Some immortal strain.
Of a silverer sunshine
Coming after rain;
Of a richer flushing
On a iiner rose ;
Of a tint more gi)lden
Than the Autumn knows.
94 English Lyrics.
Yes, with sorrow wetted,
In life's Autumn day.
Is the cheek full often
When the hair grows grey ;
All the leaves and blossoms
Drip with rain of tears,
And the sheaves lie sodden
On the field of years.
Then a sweet bird singeth
Of a joy that lies
In the grief that's only
Glory in disguise ;
Sings of youth more happy.
Sunlight more Divine,—
Gentle bird, sweet spirit,
What a song is thine !
^o
W. Alexander, M.A,
Dean of Emhj.
9.5
THOUGHTS WIT/rOUT WOBDS.
IIP:rJ-:FORE can I never utter
Tlioughts tliat in my bosom rise ?
Break, U break tlie eagle's fetter,
Let it mount toward the skies !
Take thy liand from oif the boWf>tring '.
"\\'liy the Avinged shaft retain 1
Let it cleave the very heavens,
Though it be to fall again.
"\Mien the sun looks forth in glory.
Hailing Summer at her birth,
And like footsteps of an Angel,
Fall his rays upon the earth ;
"\Mien the golden moon is shining.
And the earth is still and pale.
Save the rustling leaves that auswrr
Mystic whispers of the gale ;
And in long procession sweeping.
Snowy clouds move on awhile.
Like choristers in silence jtassing
DoAvn some vast Cathedral aisle, —
Then my heart swells liigli witliin me ;
Words ! — I seek in vain fur them —
What are words ] The floating seaweeds
Tell not of the hidden gem.
96 English Lyrics.
the spirits dum"bly striving
With the weight of thought unsaid ;
the blind words vainly diving
In that sea unfathonied.
Where is He the great Deliverer ]
Prayerful eye and earthward knee
Supplicate His lips to utter
Ephphatha ! and set us free.
******
Cease, troubled soul ! thy mourning
That no speech a mirror brings,
Rendering in faithful beauty
All thy deep imaginings.
Weep not when thy sweetest fancies
Pass like silent clouds away,
Unremembered, unreturning.
While no spell doth bid them stay.
They are of a source immortal,
I^or in earthly homes abide ;
Eut with thine own resurrection
Thou shalt find them glorified ;
All the yearnings of thy spu-it,
That have found no place or name ;
All unuttered inspirations
Perfected, and still the same.
Then the burst of radiant voices,
Where no thought is born to die ;
Where the fulness of the Spirit
Echoes tlu-ough Eternity.
E. H. W.
\)7
if*»
f.
ODE TO THE MOON.
F thou art skilled, as poets say,
Sweet soft Iieiiieiubraucer of day,
To bauisli vmrelenting Care,
Cheat hopeless breasts of old Despair,
And quite beguile new tears away ;
Shed yet abroad a fuller light,
With tenfold tranquil glory bright,
And soothe my aching heart awhile
With all the magic of thy smile,
Thou peerless Queen of summer night.
Extinguish with thy gloAvang fires
The tumult of my ■wild desires.
And foster gently into life
Tlie consciousness of conquered strife,
"With calm Content, that never tires.
Shine out to Fancy'.s hapjiy gaze
On far-off scenes in Childhciod's days.
When Nature seemed without offence
To Ignorance and Innocence,
And all the world a flowery maze :
II
98 English Lyrics.
Ere Sin liacl won the charm to lure,
When every wish and thought was j)ure,
And Faith, unwavering, fixed above,
Felt God's lumtterahle Love,
And all things in that Love secure.
Alas ! we slowly, sadly learn
How vainly restless spirits yearn :
Like thy soft rays of yesternight.
For ever hidden from the sight, .
First faith, first love, can ne'er return.
And therefore sorrow ever lies
In our most pleasant memories,
For we compare our present fate
"VYith that which Avas oiu' first estate.
And weep in sight of Paradise.
Herbert E. Ormerod, M.A,
9 9
MEMORIES, THE FOOD OF LOVE.
v-^^
ii-i
HEX shall -we come to that delightful day
^Vhen each can say to each, "Dost thou
remember]"
Let us fill m-ns \di\). rose-leaves in our May,
And hive the thrifty sweetness for De-
cember.
^
7^
For who may deem the tlirone of love
seciu-e,
. Till o'er the past the Conqueror spreads
his reign 1
That only land where luunan joys endure,
That dim Elysiimi where they live again !
Swelled by a thousand streams, the deeps
that float
The bark on Avhich we risk our all
should be :
A rill suffices for the idler's boat ;
It needs an ocean for the argosy.
The heart's religion kee^, apart from time,
The sacred burial-ground of happy hours ;
Tlie past is hcjly with the haunting cliimo
Of dreamy Sabbath-bells from distant towers.
100
English Lyrics.
Oft dost thou ask me with that bashful eye,
If I shall love thee evermore as now ;
Feasting as fondly on the sure reply,
As if my lips were virgin of the vow.
Sweet does that question, "Wilt thou love me ?" fall
Upon the heart that has forsworn it Avill ;
But when the words hereafter we recall,
" Dost thou remember r' shall be sweeter still.
Sir Edward Bulwer Lyttox, Bart., M.P.
101
SEA GLEAMS.
[Suggested by reading the section in M. Saisset's " Essai de
rhilosophie Religicuse," upon the "Existence of God established as
a Truth of Intuition. '']
WAS a sullen summer day,
Skies were neither dark nor clear ;
Heaven in the distance sheer
Over sharp clitt's sloped away —
Ocean did not yet appear.
Xot as yet a Avhite sail shimmered ;
Xot "wdth silverness Divine
l)id the great Atlantic shine ;
l^ Only very far there glimmered
~ iJimly one long tremulous line.
In tlie hedge were roses, snoweil
Or hlushed o'er by summer morn.
Itight and left grew fields of corn.
Stretching greenly from the road.
From the hay a breath was borne.
Not of the wild roses' twine,
Not of young corn waving free,
Not of clover fields, thought we ;
Only to that dim bright line
Looking, cried we, " 'Tis the sen !"
102 English Lyrics.
In life's sullen Summer day,
Lo ! before us dull hills rise,
And above, unlovely skies
Slope off with their bluish grey
O'er the eternal mysteries.
Love's sweet roses, hope's young corn.
Green fields whispered round and round,
By the breezes landward bound
(Yet, ah ! scalded too, and torn
By the sea winds), there are found.
And at times, in life's dull day,
From the flower and the sod.
And the hill our feet have trod.
To a brightness far away
Turn we, saying, " It is God !"
II.
AMONG THE SAKD-EILLS.
Feom the ocean half a rood,
To the sand-hills long and low
Ever and anon I go.
Hide from me the gleaming flood.
Only listen to its flow.
To those billowy curls of sand
Little of delight is lent, —
As it were a yellow tent
Here and there by some wild hand
Pitched, and overgrown with bent ;
Among the Sand-hills. 103
Some few buds, like golden beads,
Cut in stars on leaves that shine
Greenly, and a fragrance tine
Of tlie ocean's delicate weeds,
Of his foamed and silver wine.
But the place is music-haunted,
Let there blow what Avind "soever; —
Xow as by a stately river,
A monotonous requiem's chanted ;
Xow you hear great pine-woods shiver.
Frequent, when the tides are low,
Creep for hours sweet sleepy himis ;
But when in the spring-tiile comes,
Then the silver trumpets blow,
And the waters beat like drums ;
And the Atlantic's roll full often,
]Muttled by the sand-hills round,
Seems a mighty city's sound,
Wliich the night-time serves to soften,
l}y the waker's pillow drowned :
Seems a salvo — state, or battle's —
Through the purple mountain gaps.
Heard by peasants ; or, perhaps.
Seems a wheel that rolls or rattles ;
Seems an eagle Aving that flaps ;
Seems a peal of thunder, caught
]iy the UKJuntain pines, and timed
To a marvellous gt-ntle sound ;
Wailings, where despair is not,
Quieting the heart's deep wound.
104) English Lyrics.
Still, what "winds there blow soever,
Wet or shine, by siin or star,
When white horses plunge afar.
When the palsied froth-lines shiver,
When the waters quiet are.
On the sand-hills when waves boom.
Or with ripples scarce at all
Tumble not so much as crawl,
Ever do we know of whom
Cometh up the rise and fall.
JS'eed is none to see the ships,
None to mark the mid-sea jet.
Softening into violet.
While those old pre- Adamite lips
To the heaps beyond are set.
Ah ! we see not the great foam
That beyond us strangely rolls,
Whose white-winged ships are souls,
Sailing from the port called Home,
When the signal bell, Death, tolls.
And we see no silver shimmer.
And we catch no hue Divine,
Of the purpling hyaline ;
From the heaving and the glimmer,
Life's sands bound us with their line.
But by sounds unearthly driven
Through life's sand-hills, we may be
Sure that a diviner sea
Floweth to our hearts from Heaven,
Ebbeth to eternity.
AV. Alexander, M.A.,
Dean of Emly.
105
THE MYSTERY OF CHRIST.
"These false anoilia of man's forging tell of a true that has
fallen from Ueaven." — IIulsean Lectures, 164<5.
^^T
^fARYEL night and day, and cannot
cease ;
Ask evermore, Can this thing be ?
Heaven brought to earili, — her INIaker
made my peace, —
God bound, to set me free !
I cannot love Thee as I would and ought;
But, by Thy gi-ace preventing still.
From all things else to Thee returns my
thought.
And bruigs Thee back my will.
All thoughts, all searches, to this centre tend ;
All rays in tliis one focus meet ;
llf^re, as of old, the wise men journeying spend
Their treasures at Thy feet.
106 English Lyrics.
There is no record, tut doth hint of Thee ;
All history else Avere false or vain ;
The stones Thy kingdom preach ; loosed with this key,
AH hardest things are plain.
There is no Avisdoni hut doth taste of Thine ;
All lights that did Thine own forerun
Caught Thy prevenient gleams, as clouds that shine
In the unrisen sun.
The glories of earth's empires, age hy age
Submitting grandly to decay,
Were but the illusive dawn that did presage
Thy fixed and perfect day.
^rt's beauteous dreams, the charm of thought and song,
The majesty of rule and law,
The single mind outsoaring from the throng.
Gifted a world to draw, —
Wliat Avere they 'all but preludes poor and faint
Of Thy supreme imperial Eeign
In glory and in beauty, when each saint
Thy likeness shall attain ?
Thou hast been ever here : of old, as now,
Walking unseen the paths we go ;
But in the central years, one lifetime, Thou
Thy visible form didst show.
A cloud did steal Thee from us ; but that hour
Thy glorious ministry began ;
Thou gavest the Avord — from thence, with quickening
power,
Tliut Avord the earth o'erran.
The Mysto-y of Christ.
1C7
Tliou art not gone, "but hidden : to our sense
Thou shalt return ; Thou didst not show
Thy glory at the first, -whose lieight immense
•Stooped to our stature low.
Till Thy true Advent dawn. Thy Church, like Thee,
Shall suffer, die, and rise again ;
Then, glinified, made wliite, eternally
"With Thee on earth shall reign.
Charles Lawrence Ford,
108
THE REDBREAST.
A BRETON LEGEND.
^^^^fB^EAEIN'G His Cross, while Clirist passed
forth forlorn,
His Godlike forehead by the mock crown
torn,
'% A little bird took from that crown one
thorn.
To soothe the dear Eedeemer's throbbing
head.
That bird did what she could : His blood,
'tis said,
Down-dropping, dyed her tender bosom
red.
Since then, no wanton boy disturbs her
nest,
"Weasel nor wild cat will her young
molest, —
All sacred deem that bird of ruddy breast.
Eev. John Hoskyns Abrahall, M.A.
100
FROM HOUSE TO HOME.
IIE first Avas like a dream tlu'ough Siuniucr
heat,
The second like a tedious numbing
swoon,
"\Mule the half-frozen pulses lagged to beat
Beneath a winter mooiL
" But," says my friend, " wliat was tliis
thing and where ]"
It was a pleasiu'e-placc within my soul ;
An earthly Paradise supremely fair
That lured me from the goal.
The first part was a tissue of hugged lies ;
The second Avas its ruin fraught Avith pain :
Why raise the fair delusion to the skies
But to be dashed again ]
My castle stood of Avhite traiisi)aront glass,
Glittering and frail Avith many a fretted spire ;
But when the Summer sunset came to pass
It kindled into lire.
] 1 EnrjUsh Lyrics.
IVIy pleasavmce was an undulating green,
Stately with trees whose shadows slept below,
With glimpses of smooth garden-heds between,
Like flame, or sky, or snow.
Swift squirrels on the pastures took their ease,
"With leaping lambs safe from the unfeared knife ;
All singing-birds, rejoicing in those trees,
Fulfilled their careless life.
Wood-pigeons cooed there, stockdoves nestled there ;
My trees were full of songs and flowers and fruit ;
Their branches spread a city to the air.
And mice lodged in their root.
o
My heath lay farther off, where lizards lived
In strange metallic mail, just spied and gone ;
Like darted Hghtnings here and there perceived,
But nowhere dwelt vipon.
Frogs and fat toads were there to hop or j)lod
And propagate in peace, an uncouth crew,
Where velvet-headed rushes rustling nod.
And spill the morning dew.
All caterpillars throve beneath my rule,
With snails and slugs in corners out of sight,—
I never marred the curious sudden stool
That perfects in a night.
Safe in his excavated gallery
The burrowing mole groped on from year to year ;
'No harmless hedgehog curled because of me
His prickly back for fear.
From House to Home. 1 1 1
Oft-tinies one liko an iVngel AvalkeJ with me,
"With spii'it-discerning eyes like flames of fii'e,
But deep as the iinfathomed endless sea,
Fultilling my desire :
^\jid sometimes like a snowdrift he was foir ;
And sometimes like a sunset, glorious red ;
And sometimes he had wings to scale the air
With aureole round his head.
AVe sang oxir songs together by the Avay,
Calls and recalls and echoes of delight ;
So communed we together all the day,
And so in dreams by night.
I have no words to tell what way we walked,
"Wliat unforgotten path, now closed and sealed ;
I have no words to tell all things we talked.
All things that he revealed :
This only can I tell: that hour l>y liour
I waxed more feastful, lifted up, and glad ;
T felt nfi thorn-prick when I plucked a flowi>r.
Felt not my friend was sad.
"To-mon-ow," once I said to liiiu witli smiles :
"To-night," he answered gravely, and was dunjh,
Ijut pointed out the stones that numbered miles
And miles and miles to come.
"Xot 80," I said : "to-morrow sliall be sweet ;
Tu-night is not so sweet as coming days."
Then iirst I saw that ]k- liail turned his feet.
Had turned from mc his face.
112 English Lyrics.
Eunning and flying miles and miles he went,
But once looked back to beckon with his hand, "
And cry : " Come home, love, from banishment ;
Come to the distant land."
That night destroyed me like an avalanche ;
One night tiu'ned all my summer back to stiow :
IS^ext morning not a bird uj)on my branch,
I^ot a lamb woke below, —
No bird, no lamb, no living breathing thing ;
1^0 squirrel scampered on my breezy lawn,
Ko mouse lodged by his hoard : all joys took wing,
And fled before that dawn.
Azure and sun were starved from Heaven above,
jS^o dew had fallen, but biting frost lay hoar :
love, I knew that I should meet my love.
Should find my love no more.
" My love no more," I muttered, stunned with pain :
I shed no tear, I wrung no passionate hand.
Till something whispered: "You shall meet again,
Meet in a distant land."
Then with a cry like famine I arose,
I lit my candle, searched from room to room,
Searched up and down ; a war of winds that froze
Swept through the blank of gloom.
1 searched day after day, night after niglit ;
Scant change there came to me of night or day :
"No more," I wailed, "no more:" and trimmed my light.
And gnashed but did not pray.
From House to Home. 1 1
Until my heart broke and my spirit broke :
I'pon the frost-bound floor I stumlik^d, fell,
Aiid moaned : " It is enough : withliLikl the stroke.
Farewell, love, farewell"
Then life swooned from me. And I heard the song
Of spheres and spirits rejoicing over me.
One cried : " Our sister, she hath sutfered long." —
One answered : "Make her see." —
One cried : " Oh, blessed she who no more pain,
"\Mio no more disappointment shall receive." —
One answered : " Not so : she must live again ;
Strengthen thou her to live."
So while I lay entrancecl a curtain seemed
To slirivel with cracklmg from before my face ;
Across mine eyes a waxing radiance beamed,
• ^Vnd showed a certain place.
I saw a vision of a woman, where
Xight and new morning strive for domination :
Incomi)ambly pale, and almost fair,
And sad biiNntnd expression.
Her eyes were like some fire-enshrining gem,
"Were stately like the stars, and yet were tender;
Her figure charmed me like a windy stem,
Quivering and drooj»od and slender.
I stood upon the outer barren ground,
Slie stofKl on inner ground that budded flowers;
While circling in tlnir never-slackening round
Danced by the mystic hours.
I
o
114 English Lyrics.
But every flower was lifted on a thorn,
And every thorn shot upright from its sands
To gall her feet ; hoarse laughter pealed in scorn
"With cruel clapping hands.
She hied and wept, yet did not shrink ; her strength
Was strung up until daybreak of delight :
She measured measureless sorrow toward its length.
And breadth, and depth, and height.
Then marked I how a chain sustained her form,
A chain of living links not made nor riven :
It stretched sheer up through lightning, wind, and storm,
And anchored fast in Heaven.
One cried : " How long ? yet ;^unded on the Rock
She shall do battle, suffer, and attain." —
One answered : " Faith quakes in the tempest shock :
Strengthen her soul again."
I saw a cup sent down and come to her
Brim full of loathing and of bitterness :
She drank with livid lips that seemed to stir
The depth, not make it less.
But as she drank I spied a hand distil
ISTew wine and virgin honey ; making it
First bitter-sweet, then sweet indeed, until
She tasted only sweet.
Her lips and cheeks waxed rosy-fresh and young ;
Drinking she sang : " My soul shall nothing want ; "
And drank anew ; while soft a song was sung,
A mystical slow chant.
From House to Home. 115
One crieil : "The wounds are faithful of a friend :
The wilderness shaU blossom as a rose." —
One answered : " Keud the veil, declare the eutl,
Strengthen her ere she goes."
Tlicn earth and heaven were rolle<:l up like a scroll ;
Time and space, change and death, had jiassed away ;
Weight, number, measure, each had reached its whole ;
The day had come, — that day !
Multitudes — multitudes — stood uj) in bliss,
Made ei[ual to the Angels, glorious, fair ;
"With harps, palms, wedding-garments, kiss of peace,
Anil cro\\Tied and haloed liair.
Tlu'V sang a song, a new song in the height,
Harping with harps to Ilim AVlio is Strong and True :
They di-ank new wine, their eyes saw with new light,
Lo, all things were made new.
Tier beyond tier they rose and rose and rose
So liigh that it Avas dreadful, flames with flames :
Xo man could number them, no tongue disclose
Their secret sacred names.
As though one pulse stin-ed all, one rush of Ijlood
Fed all, one breath swe})t through them myriad-voiced.
They struck their harps, cast down their crowns, tliey
stood
And worshipped and rejoiced.
luu-h face looked one way like a moon new-lit,
lliuih face looked one way towards its Sun of Love ;
Drank love and bathed in love and mirrored it,
And knew no end thereof.
116 English Lyrics.
Glory touched glory on each blessed head,
Hands locked dear hands never to sunder more :
These were the new-begotten from the dead,
Whom the great Birthday bore.
Heart answered heart, soul answered soul at rest,
Double against each other, filled, sufficed ;
All loving, loved of all ; but loving best
And best beloved of Christ.
I saw that one who lost her love in pain.
Who trod on thorns, who drank the loathsome cup
The lost in night, in day was found again ;
The fallen, was lifted up.
They stood together in the blessed noon,
They sang together through the length of days ;
Each loving face bent Sunwards like a moon
New-ht with love and praise.
Therefore, friend, I would not if I might
Eebuild my house of lies, wherein I joyed
One time to dwell : my soul shall walk in Avhite,
Cast down but not destroyed.
Therefore in patience I possess my soul ;
Yea, therefore as a flint I set my face.
To pluck down, to build up agam the whole —
But in a distant place.
These thorns are sharp, yet I can tread on them ;
This cup is loathsome, yet He makes it sweet :
My face is steadfast toward Jerusalem,
My heart remembers it.
From House to Home. IT
I lift the hanging hands, the feeble knees —
I, })rocious more than seven times molten gold —
Until the day when from His storehouses
God shall bring new and old ;
Beauty for ashes, oil of joy for grief,
Garment of praise for spirit of heaviness :
Although to-day I fade as doth a leaf,
I languish and grow less.
Although to-day He prunes my twigs with pain.
Yet doth His blood nourish and warm my root :
To-morrow I shall put forth buds agaui,
^Vnd clothe myself with fruit.
Although to-day I walk in tedious ways.
To-day His staff is turned into a rod,
Yft will I wait for Him the appointed days.
And stay ujwn my God.
Christina Kossetti.
118
BUN DA Y
I was in tlie Spirit on tlie Lord's Day."— Eev. i. 10.
(■C^
m
'^
FTER long days of storms and showers,
' Of sighing winds and dripping howers,
How sweet at morn to ope our eyes
On newly swept and garnished skies !
To miss the storm and driving rain,
And see that all is bright again, — '
So bright, we cannot choose but say.
Is this the world of yesterday %
Even so, methinks, the Sunday brings
A change o'er all familiar things ;
A change, we know not whence it came,-
They are, and they are not, the same.
There is a spell within, around,
O'er eye and ear, o'er sight and sound.
And, loth or willing, they and we
Must own this day a mystery.
Sure all things wear a heavenly dress
That sanctifies their loveliness ;
Types of that endless resting-day
When we shall be as changed as they.
Sunday. 119
To-day our peaceful ordered home
Foreshadowetli mansions yet to come ;
"We foretaste, in domestic love,
The faultless chiU'ities above.
And as at yester-eventide
Our tasks and toys -were laid aside,
So here our training for the day
AVhen we shall lay them doAvn for aye.
But not alone for musing deep,
^Meek souls their day of days Avill keep ;
Yet other glorious things than these
The Christian in his Sabbath sees.
His eyes by faith his Lord behold,
How on the week's first day of old
From hell He rose, on death He trod,
"Was seen of man, and went to God.
And as we fondly pause to look,
"\Mien in some daily handled book
Aitproval's well-knoAvn tokens stand,
Traced by some dear and thoughtful hand.
E'en so there shines one day in seven,
liright with the special mark of Heaven,
That we with love and praise may dwell
(Jn Him who loveth us so well ; —
"\\Tiether in meditative Avalk
Alone with Ood and llriiven Ave talk,
Catching the simple chiiin' wliidi calls
Our feet to some old Church's walls ;
120 English Lyrics.
Or, passed within the Church's door,
"Where poor are rich, and rich are poor,
We pray the prayers and hear the Woo-d
Which there onr fathers prayed and heard ;
Or represent in solemn wise
Onr all-prevailing Sacrifice,
Feeding, in joint communion high,
The life of Faith, that cannot die.
And surely, in a world like this.
So rife with woe, so scant of hliss,
Where fondest hopes are oftenest crossed,
And fondest hearts are severed most,
'Tis something that we kneel and pray
With loved ones near and far away, —
One God, one Faith, one Hope, one care.
One form of words, one hour of prayer.
'Tis past ;— yet pause, till ear and heart,
In one brief silence, ere we part.
Something of that high strain have caught,
The peace of God, which passeth thought.
Then turn we to our earthly homes,
K'ot doubting but that Jesus comes.
Breathing His peace o'er hall and hut.
At even, when the doors are shut,
Then speeds us on oui* earthly way.
And hallows every common day :
Without Him, Sunday's self were dim.
But all are bright if spent with Him.
Eev. p. Freeman, M.A.
l'2l
ABOUXDIXG IX HOPE.
(Second Sunday in Advent.)
OPE, Christian soul ; in every stage
Uf this thine eartlily pilgrimage
Let heavenly joy thy thoughts engage :
Ahound in hope.
Hope : though thy lot he want and woe,
Though hate's rude storms against thee
blow,
Thy SaA'iour's lut was such below :
Abound m hope.
Hope : for to all who meekly boar
His cross. He gives His crown to wear ;
Abasement here is glory there :
Abound in hope.
Hope : though thy dear ones round thee die,
Behold with Faith's illumined eye
Their deathless home beyond the sky :
Abountl in hope.
122 English Lyrics.
Hope ; for upon that happy shore
Sorrow and sighing will be o'er,
And friends shall meet to jjart no more :
Abound in hope.
Hope through the watches of the night ;
Hope till the morrow bring the light ;
Hope till thy faith be lost in sight :
Abomid in hope.
Eev. Benjamin Kennedy, D.l).
.23
WOXDER AND REST.
SUGGESTED BY THE MEMORIAL WINDOW, CIIARLCOMBE CHURCH.
" CRUCIFIXrS."
" What I do thou knowest not now, Lut tliou shalt know hereafter ! "
• « ' « « « « «
" ASCENDIT."
" Wtcn I awake up after Thy likeness, I shall be satisfied with it."
/:■::
HE saw Ilim wlieu tlic road to death ]Io
trod,
She saw His Cross was nigh :
She knew He there should die, —
He whom she owned the Holy One of God.
!^ She knelt and gazed — mute wonder in licr
eyes,—
Gazed on that saddened Face
Where sin had left no trace,
Till, pitying her grief, the Christ replies :
" I go up to Jerusalem to die, —
Yet do not weep for jMe :
Couldst thou the future see,
Tliou wouldst not shed one tear m- heave
one trigli.
124 English Lyrics.
" What now I do thou canst not understand, —
Trust Me 'tis best and right :
Hereafter to thy sight
All shall unveil itself as wisely planned."
JE, 4*. ^ ^ Jt Jb
JJp -Jp "ilP TV" w ■«•
She saw Him once again : hoAV changed that form !
!No hint of anguish there ;
N'o 'Avhelming weight of care ;
No features Avorn with facing the rough storm !
She knelt and gazed, — calm gladness in her eyes ;
Gazed on that wondrous Face,
Where Godhead she could trace.
As slow from earth to Heaven she saw Him rise !
" When I awake up in Thy likeness I
Shall then be satisfied,"
She reverent cried :
" Now looking up, I am content to die ! "
The mystery of the Cross is with us now ;
We wonder as we see
Christ's life and agony —
See the Life-giver's head in anguish bow.
We, too, must look beyond the mortal strife ;
Watch Him with trustful eyes,
Till we, too, see Him rise.
And bid us follow Him,— "the Way— the Life !"
Louisa Fagan.
12
•>\
5ir
M -
' ^
SO UTII 1 1 'ELL MIXSTER.
T Avas a "ladsome Suinmor morn, tlie sun
\\' Avas bright and liigli,
v\i The birds were singing cheerily, beneath
the deep blue sky ;
The flowers were all unfolding, and their
perfume filled the air —
All nature seemed rejoicing in sights and
sounds so fair :
Xor could I wonder, as I gazed on stream,
and vale, and wood,
That in the world's young morning God
liad called tlicni " very good ;"
For though a withering blight hath marred
the beauty first they Avore,
Yet still to each discerning heart there's
beauty evermore !
I wandered on with lightsome step, till, from its deep
re[)08e,
The ^linster, with its grand old towers, before my vii^ion
rose ;
126 Englisli Lyrics.
And whilst I stood Avith joy beneath its consecrated
shade,
I thonght of those who long ago in their peaceful rest
were laid ; —
Of those Avhose day of trial was o'er — who had fought
the battle well —
Who within the Church's blessed home had ever loved
to dwell —
"Who found what strength and gladness God surely
giveth there,
"Wlien at "Matins," and at "Evensong," ascends the
voice of Prayer.
Oh ! those were England's brightest days, that have
departed long.
When all men loved the holy Church, and their faith
and hope were strong ;
And when, in earnest charity, their time — their all — was
given.
To rear those noble Temj)les — " the very gates of
Heaven !"
I stood within its hallowed walls ; from many a storied
pane
The light in richest colours fell, and as I looked again.
The deeds of love the Healer WTought were plainly on
them seen.
Or an apostle, or a saint, or weeping Magdalen !
Southivcll Minster. 127
And as the Clunr I entered, the organ-notes were
pealing,
And white-robed I'riests, before the Cross, were all
devoutly kneeling ;
Then upward borne on Avings of faith arose the chanted
cry,
The spirit's deepest utterance, our " solemn Litany ! "
Oh ! would that those who cast such scorn ujjon our
holy things
Could only know the life and peace Christ's true Spouse
ever brings;
To His one and blessed fold of rest they surely would
return.
And the priceless birthright of His grace iii i)ridc no
longer spurn.
The Church's Prayers were over, and yet I lingeri.'d
there —
A holy and a deep repose lay round me everywhere ;
No longer now I gazed alone on fine-wrought tracery,
For One was by my side whose form was fair exceed-
ingly.
Her face a quiet beauty wore, and her deep expressive
eyes
Beamed brightly, purely, like the stars that gem the mid-
night skies ;
And as with her I wamlered adown those stately aisles,
I felt that e'en her frown must be more fair than others'
smiles !
128
English Lyrics.
The Minster, with its grand old towers, I ne'er may see
again,
Nor hear that voice so musical, whose tones fell on me
then ;
But still, the memory of that day, with all its untold
joy,
Will be a bright spot in the waste, no time can e'er
destroy !
Arthur St. John, IV 1. A.
129
CHRIST WALKING UPON THE SEA.
HERE are, who proudly tkrone
Stern iiatunil laws, progressing still, un-
aided,
From simplest germ of being, to the zone
Of worlds in cluster braided ;
"Who view the hours serene,
Their ceaseless march in grand succession
"oin<T
Forecasting what shall be from what hath
been.
The past by present sliowing.
Far back, far uj», thoy hide
Some dim, mysterious Cause, whose word, once spoken,
Launched this vast AMiole, that, with self-ordered pride,
Keei)s its firm course unbroken.
Smile on, who vainly dream
Of kind from kind by links unfolded springing —
J''aith knows her Lord's briglit finger in the beam,
In stonns His footstep ringing,
K
130 English Lyrics.
And ISTatiire saw one sight
Transgressing sovereign laws, fair Order's dangliters,
Wlien He, Who walked in vmcreated might,
Trod the wild midnight waters.
wondrous One ! I see
Thy Angel-form a light through darkness gliding.
Silvering the foam, as o'er some shadowy lea
A transient sunheam gliding.
Calm as that Sabbath morn
Through golden fields with waves of ripe ears heaving.
Along the watery wave His steps are borne,
A track of glory leaving.
As from the moon's full form
Eoll back the clouds, lo ! His bright Presence spying,
The dark-robed mists, the children of the storm.
Before Him fast are flying ;
And from the opening blue
The stars look down upon a prouder path
Than ever hero trod, or conqueror knew,
In triiunph or in wrath.
The sea-birds screaming greet
With joy their Maker ; winds wild praise are singing ;
Myriads of shining creatures for His feet
A spangled carpet flinging.
Like her, as frail, as fair,
Who washed those feet with tears, and wiped with
tresses,
The fond wave twines its light curls round them there.
The soft spray, leaping, kisses.
Christ Walking upon the Sea.
131
Scarcely to luinian eyo
That sight of wonder and of fear was given ;
But all the radiant tlwellers in the sky
Gazed from the doors of Heaven :
And, as they gazed, they snng
Creation's Lord, the great controlling God,
O'eiTulmg, as He listeth, laws that Pi)rung
To empire at His nod.
Charles Lawrence Ford.
132
DANTE IN EXILE.
H me, my heart is like a dreary wave
That washes on a wild and lonely shore ;
And darkness, like the darkness of the grave,
Broods o'er me evermore.
An aching void, a dull cold weight of pain,
A burning thirst for victory never won,
A chilling sense of toil endured in vain.
Of earnest work undone, —
All these have power upon me, till my
heart.
Thrilled through with anguish, yearns to
flee away,
And pants for rest, forbidden to depart,
'ij Fettered by bonds of clay.
And ever through this tumult of my breast
Float thoughts of those I love where'er I roam,
.Vs lights and shadows from the reddening East
Glance o'er the rough sea-foam.
And Florence rises, like a pictured saint
Crowned with pale moonlight, or the glimmering
ghost
Of a dead bride, that with low words and faint
Speaks of a land loved most.
Dante in Exile. ]•'"
•).)
Florence, well-beloved in days of old !
^"ow longed for, as I long to rest Avitli God,
Though thy foir streets, to me gi-own strange and cold,
Ey alien feet are trod,
men of iron heart and ruthless hand.
Ye tlrained my life-blood when ye thrust me forth,
And ye have made me like a desert land.
Cold as the frozen North !
Ye hear the Poet's thoughts of thunder sound.
Know that such di'ead songs pierce the parent mind,
Fierce shafts of Fate, rejoicing to rebound.
And strike their sovereign blind.
'o'-
And though the liigli Bard scale the eternal gate,
Far o'er the struggling crowd on strong wings borne,
Swift from the crashing thunder-clouds of hate
Fla.-^h forth the lires of scorn.
Yet I trust on — though tears of blood they weep.
Borne on life's tempest-heaving tide of woes,
Clasped in Death's loving arms, the great shall sleej)
In most sublime repose.
"What though no earthly laurel crown the bust
Of earnest souls, that toil beneath the sun.
Nor let the sharp steel of their genius rust
Till Christ's good fight be won ']
High thoughts, and noble deeds, tliiit breathe aniund
The Poet's heavenward steps, shall guard the dead,
And make their fame a consecrated ground,
"Where no base feet dare tread.
134
English Lyrics.
And pure old age the golden fruit shall reap
Of those whom God hath mlled to travel far,
More blest than babes, whom angels kiss to sleep,
Unsoiled by dust of war.
Our children's children round my grave shall tell
How Dante fought for faith and truth Divine, —
" Here lies the Bard who sang of Heaven and Hell :
God rest the Florentine !"
C. K
aHl4^ ^-^f*
135
A UTUMN LEA YES.
11 EN the harvest -work is over,
And tlie Lams are full of sheaves,
Children in the Autuiun twilight
Gather up the Autumn leaves.
Through the forest rays of glory.
From the sunset's purple fold,
Flood with splendour held and upland,
Wave on wave in lines of gold ;
Batliing all the woods in siuilight, —
Lake and stream are burnished o'er,
Glories of the dying Autumn
Eesting upon sea and shore.
Emblem of a life declining,
Drawing near its earthly goal, —
Light reflected from the future, —
Sunlight on the passing souL
.Sombre thoughts the Autumn bringeth,
Of the Summer days gone by.
Of the dusty lieat of nocmday,
^Memories of the morning sky.
136 English Lyrics.
Leaves of gold and russet falling
In the twilight's solemn hour,
Tell of hopes and joys departing,
Fading as the fading flower.
Though our harns are filled with plenty,
Wine, and oil, and golden sheaves.
Every heart hath its own hiirden,
Every life its Autumn leaves ; —
Hopes that withered in the mornuig.
Blighted ere they reached their prime,
Youth that left us on the journey, —
Friendships dead before their time.
Then while sunset gold and purple
O'er the earth its glory weaves,
Let us, with the happy children,
Gather up our Autumn leaves.
John Andrews, B.A.
137
''IS THE HE NO BALM IN GILEAD?"
S there no balni in Gilead, then ; is there no
p;;^ Healer nigh ]
J Xo freshening spring to cheer the waste so
desolate and dry 1
Hath Hope's dear vision vanished for ever
from thy sight,
And darkness fallen around thee, the very
gloom of night %
And seems thy soul forsaken, her every
hlessing flown?
Xo soothing for her sorrow, and nowhere
g_ _ to make her moan ]
-::i^ Yet stay ; the cross thou bearest thus hath
first been born for thee ;
Jesus Himself did hang thereon, thy life
and c\ire to be.
^»j^ Yov thine o^vn ease He bare it all, — the
scourge and piercing thorn.
The nailing and the bruising, the denial,
shame, and scorn ;
Darkness and desolation deep, and piin^s beyond tliy
thought,
And all f(jr thy soul's healing these sad agonies were
wrought.
lo8 English Lyrics.
Upon His Cross He yearned for thee, for tliee His heart-
strings brake ;
Himself of all forsaken, He conlcl not thee forsake :
Then evermore, when chastenings sore thine inmost
spirit wring,
Say, My Beloved is crucified, and I to Him will cling.
How shall I sing thy holy love, dear Passion of my Lord 1
Or how thy mystic virtue shall I worthily record '?
Thou art the spring of all our liojje, the balsam of our
woes.
The solace of our yearnmgs, and the bower of our repose,
True Paradise of all delights, since joy of grief is born :
For as the flowers but close at night to ope more fresh
with morn.
So He who wept and bled for us, and bowed in earthly
gloom,
Kow makes those sorrows our bright bliss, those wounds
our joyous home.
Here is a covert from the storm when winds and Avayes
arise,
A shadow in the scorching noon, a light in starless skies,
A staff upon the rugged road, a shield Avhen foes assail,
A charm Divine against whose might no evil can prevail ;
Por where the Cross of Jesus is, is peace, and there
alone.
And 'neath that banner of His love He gathereth His
own;
And thou who wilt be Clirist's must not grudge thy
portion small
In His own bitter chalice, "Who once for thee drained it all.
"Is there no Balm in GileadV ISO
Thoii knowest He went not up to joy, "but first lie
suffered pain,
And all the selfsame path imist tread who that His hliss
Avould gain :
Is aught too wearisome or hard for Jesus' sake to bear 1
A^Hiile He is croAATied with thorns Avilt thou a ci'own of
roses wear?
Lo ! this good Cross He offers Tliee ; it is thy very life :
Anoint Avith holy unction, it will aid thee in the strife :
'Tis hallowed by thy Saviour's touch, Who hung on it foi'
thee,
And Love's sweet might shall make it light, and win the
victory.
DraAN' near, thou reft and drooping heart, draw near and
lift thy gaze
To Him who yearns Avith outstretched arms thee from
th}' grief to raise ;
Draw near, and clinging close beneatli thy Saviour's
bleeding heart.
Tell o'er each tlu'ob of that deep woe iu which thou hast
a part ;
Tell o'er each drop of dear life-blood which ebbs for thee
so fivst.
And all thy weary heart-aching upon that true Love cast :
In Jesu's Cross and Passion is the medicine of thy soul,
Yea, there is balm in Gilead, and a Healer to make
whole.
C. Sellon.
140
PARTING.
S we see tlie sun in Spring-time
Shine with warm life-gi-vdng ray,
For a moment lighting all things,
Then so sadly fade away ;
So on earth, true friendship's blessing
Sheds on us its warmth and light ;
Yet, ere we can catch, its treasure,
Flying, leaves us dark as night.
Streams divided floAV no longer
In communion side by side ;
Who can say where they shall mingle,-
Here, or in the ocean tide 1
Here, the scene of restless wandering,
AVhere with pain and toil we rove ;
There, the everlasting gladness,
The ocean tide of Heavenly Love.
Henry Tootell,
University College, O.von.
141
VOCATIONS.
HERE marches past a mighty ordered band,
Upon whose banners the full light is shed ;
It leaves the charnel-houses of the dead,
And goes straight onward to the fav-oir
Land.
Kept from all baser wants and mean
desires.
They, lead the Avay, on whom the Light
has shone
"With purest strength ; by tliis bright
way have gone
All who have clearly seen the beacon-fires.
Those fires upon the battlements of gold
Burn with unclouded glory, and their
gleam
Falls on the warriors like a fiery stream,
A light and warmth in darkness and in cold.
Yet noble souls lie often in the dust.
By their own fault, Avhen they might rise to God :
On them in fire is written Ichabod,
For light despised and weajjons brown with rust.
Xo generous love h;is li'd them un to Him,
Who went for them along the mournful way.
And boro the heat and burden of the day :
For this their hearts are cold, their eyes are dim.
142 English Lyrics.
Yet light of Heaven all light of earth outshmes :
Strange then that in the slothful ways of ease
Men should be lost, as if in stormy seas,
When all the earth is lit with altar-shrines.
He that hath ears must hear, for now there rings
Deep in men's hearts, as all can hear who "vvill,
A strong, clear Yoice, that one day it may fill
With Saints the City of the King of kings.
Some hear that Voice and heed it not, hut stand
Immoveable in darkness, making choice
Of the way downward, though they hear the Voice,
False-hearted traitors to their King's command.
Some hear, and gladly follow for a while,
With sandalled feet upon the royal road,
Seeing its light ; then blinded tiu^n from God,
And with dark cowardice their souls defile.
But some who hear are faithful and obey ;
Called and elect and true, with spears of light
And shining armour, through the storm and night.
They bear their lilied standards to the Day.
Pray to be blinded to the world's strong glare ;
Pray to see brightly the clear Heaven above ;
Por they are highest on its thrones of love
Wlio most for God in this dark world "wiU dare.
Before us goes the strong Incarnate Word;
In Him the weak ones overcome the strong ;
Thus in His strength the Cross is borne along,
Thus onward sweep the armies of the Lord.
liEv. H. A. Eawes, M.A.
143
THE SERMON TO THE
FISHERMEN.
" Behold, I stand at the door, and knock." —
Revelation iii. 20.
EK ! I will .show at wliose unopened doors
lie stands and knocks, that you may never
say,
I am too mean, too ignorant, too lost ;
^^' lie knocks at other doors, but not at
mine ! "
' See here ! it is the night ! it is the night !
And snow lies thickly, white untrodden snow,
And the wan moon upon a casement shines —
A casement crusted o'er with frosty leaves.
That make lier ray less bright along the floor.
A woman sits, with hands upon her knees,
Poor tired soul ! and she has nought to do,
For there is neither fire nor candle liglit :
The driftwood ash lies cold ujjon her hearth ;
The rushlight flickered down an hour ago ;
Her children wail a little in their sleep
For cold and hunger, and, as if that souuil
Was not enough, another comes to lur,
Over (}(jd's undeliled snow — a song —
Xay, never hang your heads — I s;n', a song.
144 English Lyrics.
And dotli she curse tlie alehouse, and the sots
That diink the night out and their earnings there,
And drink their manly strength and courage down,
And drink away the little children's bread,
And starve her, starving by the selfsame act
Her tender suckling, that with piteous eyes
Looks in her face till scarcely she has heart
To work, and earn the scanty bit and drop
That feed the others 1
Does she curse the song 1
I think not, fishermen ; I have not heard
Such women curse. God's curse is curse enough.
To-morrow she will say a bitter thing.
Pulling her sleeve down lest the bruises show —
A bitter thing, but meant for an excuse —
" My master is not worse than many men :"
But now, ay, now she sitteth dumb and still ;
'^0 food, no comfort, cold and poverty
Bearing her down.
My heart is sore for her ;
How long, how long 1 When troubles come of God,
When men are frozen out of work, when wives
Are sick, when working fathers fail and die.
When boats go down at sea — then nought behoves
Like patience ; but for troubles wrought of men
Patience is hard — I tell you it is hard.
' thou poor soul ! it is the night — the night ;
Against thy door drifts up the silent snow,
Blocking thy threshold : " Fall," thou sayest, " fall, fall,
Cold snow, and lie and be trod underfoot, —
Am not I fallen ? Wake up, and pipe, wind.
I
Tlie Sermon to the Fishermen. 145
Pull ^\•in(l, and beat and bluster at my door :
Merciful wind, sing me a hoarse rough song,
For there is other music made to-night
That I wo\dd fain not hear. Wake, thou still sea.
Heavily plunge. Shoot on, white waterfall
Oh, I coulil long like thy cold icicles
Freeze, freeze, and hang upon thy frosty clift,
And not comidain, so I might melt at last
In the warm Summer sun, as thou wilt do !
' " But woe is me ! I think there is no sun ;
!My sun is sunken, and the night grows dark :
Xone care for me. The children cry for bread,
And I have none, and nought can comfort me ;
Even if the heavens were free to such as I,
It were not much, for death is long to Avait,
And Heaven is far to go ! "
And speakest thou thus,
Despairing of the sun that sets to thee,
And of the earthly love that wanes to thee.
And of the Heaven that lieth far from thee 1
I'l-oce, peace, fond fool ! One draweth near thy door
Whose footsteps leave no print across the snow :
Thy sun hius risen -with comfort in his face,
The smile of Heaven, to warm thy frozen heart
And bless with saintly hand. A\'liat ! is it long
To wait and far to go ] Thou shalt not go ;
iJi'hold, across the snow to thee He comes ; "
Thy H»'av(m descends, and is it long t<j wait ?
TlidU shalt not wait : "This night, this niglit," He saith
" F staml at the door and knock."
146 English Lyrics.
' It is enough — can sucli an one be liere —
Yea, here 1 God forgive you, fishermen !
One ! is there only one 1 But do thou knoM^,
woman pale for want, if thou art here.
That on thy lot much thought is spent in Heaven ;
And, coveting tlie heart a hard man broke.
One standeth patient, watching in the night,
And waiting in the daytime.
What shall be
If thou wilt answer 1 He will smile on thee :
One smile of His shall be enough to heal
The woiuid of man's neglect ; and He will sigh.
Pitying the trouble which that sigh shall cure ;
And He will speak — speak in the desolate niglit.
In the dark night : " For Me a thorny crown
Men wove, and nails were driven in My hands
And feet : there was an earthquake, and I died ;
1 died, and am alive for evermore !
' " I died for thee ; for thee I am alive.
And My humanity doth mourn for thee.
For thou art Mine ; and all thy little ones,
They, too, are Mine, are Mine ! Behold, the house
Is dark, but there is brightness where the sons
Of God are singing, and, behold, the heart
Is troubled : yet the nations walk in white ';
They have forgotten how to weep ; and thou
Shalt also come, and I "wdll foster thee
And satisfy thy soul ; and thou shalt warm
Thy trembling life beneath the smile of God.
A little while — it is a little while —
A little while, and I will comfort thee ;
I go away, but I will come again."
The Sermon to the Fishermen. IVt
' But hear me yet. There -was a poor old man
"Who sat ami listened to the raging sea,
And heard it thunder, lunging at the cliffs
As like to tear them down. He lay at night ;
And " Lord have mercy on the lads," said he,
" That sailed at noon, though they be none of mine !
For when the gale gets up, and when the wind
Flings at the window, Avhen it Ijeats the roof,
.Vnd lulls, and stops, and rouses up again,
And cuts the crest clean off the plunging wave.
And scatters it like feathei-s up the field,
AVliy, tlien I tliink of my two lads — my lads
That would have worked and never let me want,
And never let me take the parish pay.
Xo, none of mine ; my lads were dro-HTicd at sea —
My two — before the most of these were born.
I know how sharp that cuts, since my poor wife
Walked up and down, and still walked up and down,
•Vnd I walked after, and one could not hear
A word the otlier said, for wind and sea
That raged and beat and thundered in the night —
The awfullest, the longest, lightest night
That ever parents had to spend — a moon
That shone like daylight on the breaking wave.
All me ! and other men have lost their lads.
And other women wiped their poor dead mouths,
And got them liome and dried tliem in the liouse.
And seen the driftwood lie along the coast.
That was a tidy boat but one day back.
Ami seen next tide the neighbours gatlier it
To lay it on their fires.
148 English Lyrics.
Ay, I Avas strong
And aUe-bodied — loved my work ; — but now
I am a useless hull : 'tis time I sunk ;
I am in all men's way ; I trouble them ;
I am a trouble to myself : but yet
I feel for mariners of stormy nights,
And feel for wives that watch ashore. Ay, ay !
If I had learning I would pray the Lord
To bring them in : but I'm no scholar, no ;
Book-learning is a world too hard for me :
But I make bold to say, ' Lord, good Lord,
I am a broken-down poor man, a fool
To speak to Thee : but in the Book 'tis writ,
As I hear say from others that can read.
How, when Thou earnest. Thou didst love the sea.
And live with fisherfolk, whereby 'tis sure
Thou knowest all the peril they go through,
And all their trouble.
As for me, good Lord,
I have no boat ; I am too old, too old —
My lads are drowned ; I buried my poor wife ;
My little lasses died so long ago
That mostly I forget what they were like.
Thou knowest. Lord ; they were such little ones
I know they went to Thee, but I forget
Their faces, though I missed them sore.
Lord,
I was a strong man ; I have drawn good food
And made good money out of Thy great sea :
But yet I cried for them at nights ; and now,
Although I be so old, I miss my lads.
And there be many folk this stormy night
The Sermon to the FishermeiL 149
HeaAy with fear for tlieirs. Merciful Lord,
Comfort them ; save their honest boys, theu' pride,
And let them hear next ebb the blessedest,
Lest sound — the boat-keels gititing on the sand.'
' " I cannot pray with finer words : I know
Nothing; I have no learning, cannot learn —
Too old, too old. They say I want for nought,
I have the parish pay ; but I am dull
Of hearing, and the tire scarce warms me tlirough.
God save me — I have been a sinful man —
And save the Uves of them that still can work,
For they are good to me ; ay, good to me.
But, Lord, I am a trouble ! and I sit.
And I am lonesome, and the nights are few
That any think to come and draw a chair.
And sit in my poor place and talk awhile.
AVhy should they come, forsooth 1 Only the wind
Knocks at my door, oh, long and loud it knocks.
The only thing God made that has a mind
To enter in."
' Yea, thus the old man spake :
These were the last words of his aged mouth —
But One did knock. One came to sup with him,
That huml)le, weak old m;iu ; knocked at his door
In the rough pauses of the labouring wind.
I tell you that One knocked while it was dark.
Save where I3ieir foaniing passion had made white
Tliose livid seething Inllows. What He said
In that poor place where He did talk awliiU;,
1 cannot tell : but this I am assured,
Tliat when the neighbours came the morrow morn,
150 English Lyrics.
What time the wind had bated, and the sim
Shone on the old man's floor, they saw the smile
He passed away in, and they said, " He looks
As he had woke and seen the face of Christ,
And with that rapturous smile held out his arms
To come to Him ! "
Can such an one he here,
So old, so weak, so ignorant, so frail 1
The Lord he good to thee, thou poor old man ;
It would he hard with thee if Heaven were shut
To such as have not learning ! Nay, nay, nay.
He condescends to them of low estate ;
To such as are despised He cometh down.
Stands at the door and knocks.
Yet bear with me.
I have a message ; I have more to say.
Shall sorrow win His pity, and not sin —
That burden ten times heavier to be borne 1
What think you 1 Shall the virtuous have His care
Alone 1 O virtuous women, think not scorn.
For you may lift your faces everywhere ;
And now that it grows dusk, and I can see
None though they front me straight, I fain would tell
A certain thing to you. I say to you ;
And if it doth concern you, as methinks
It doth, then surely it concerneth all.
I say that there was once — I say not here —
I say that there was once a castaway.
And she was weeping, weeping bitterly ;
Kneeling, and crying with a heart-sick ciy
The Sermon to the Fishermen. 151
That choked itself in sobs — " my good name !
my good name ! " And none did liear her cry !
Xay ; and it lightened, and the storm-bolts fell,
And the rain splashed upon the roof, and still
(She, storm-tossed as the storming elements —
She cried Avith an exceeding bitter cry,
" O my good name ! " And then the thunder-cloud
Stooped low ami burst in darkness overhead,
And rolled, and rocked her on her knees, and shook
The fitiil foundations of her dwelling-i)lace.
But she — if any neighbour had come in
(None did) : if any neighbours had come in.
They might have seen her crying on her knees,
And sobbing "Lost, lost, lost !" beating her breast —
Her breast for ever pricked -with cruel thorns.
The wounds whereof could neither balm assuage
Xor any patience heal — beating her brow,
Which ached, it had been bent so long to hide
Fnim level ej'es, whose meaning was contempt.
' ye good women, it is hard to leave
Tlie paths of virtue, and return again.
What if this sinner wept, and none of you
Comforted her ? ^Vnd what if she did strive
'i"u mend, and none of 3'ou believed her strife,
Xor looked upon her ? Mark, 1 do not say,
Th(jugh it was hard, you therefore were to lilame —
That she had aught against you, though your feet
Xever drew near her door. iJut 1 beseech
Your patience. Once in (.)kl Jerusalem
A woman km-eled at con.secrati'd feet.
Kissed tlniii, and Wiv.slied tln-m witli lu-r tear.'«.
152 English Lyrics.
What then 1
I thiiik that yet our Lord is pitiful :
I think I see the castaway e'en now !
And she is not alone : the heavy rain
Splashes without, and sullen thunder rolls,
But she is lying at the sacred feet
Of One transfigured.
And her tears flow down,
Down to her lips — ^her lips that kiss the print
Of nails ; and love is like to break her heart !
Love and repentance — for it still doth work
Sore in her soul to think, to think that she.
Even she, did pierce the sacred, sacred feet.
And bruise the thorn-crowned head.
Lord, our Lord,
How great is thy compassion ! Come, good Lord,
For we will open. Come this night, good Lord ;
Stand at the door and knock.
And is this all ?—
Trouble, old age, and simpleness, and sin —
This all 1 It might be all some other night ;
Eut this night, if a voice said, " Give account.
Whom hast thou with thee 1 " then must I reply,
" Young manhood have I, beautiful youth and strength,
Eich with all treasure drawn up from the crypt
Where lies the learning of the ancient world ;
Brave with all thoughts that poets fling upon
The strand of life, as driftweed after storms :
Doubtless familiar with Thy mountain heads.
And the dread purity of Alpine snows,
Doubtless familiar with Thy works concealed
For ages from mankind — outlying worlds,
The Sermon to the Fishermen. 15*
And many moonM spheres — and Thy great store
Of stiirs, more thick than mealy dust which here
I'owders the pale leaves of Axiriciilas.
This du I knuw, hut, Lord, 1 know not more.
Not more concerning them — concerning Thee
I know Thy bounty : where Thou givest much
Standing without, if any call Thee in
Thou givest more." Speak, then, rich and strong :
Open, O happy young, ere yet the hand
Of Him that knocks, wearied at last, forbear ;
The patient foot its thankless quest refrain.
The wounded heart for evermore withdraw.'
I Iwve heard many speak, but tliis one man —
So anxious not to go to Heaven alone —
This one man I remember, and his look.
Till twilight overshadowed him. He ceased,
And out in darkness with the fisher folk
We passed, and stumbled over mounds of moss.
And heard, but did not see, the passing beck.
Ah, graceless heart, would that it could regain.
From the dim storehouse of sensations past.
The impress full of tender awe, that night.
Which fell on me ! It was as if the Christ
Had Ix'cn drawn down from Heaven to track us home.
Ami any of the footsteps following us
Miglit liuve been His,
Jkax Ixgelow.
ft
154
THE BATTLE OF THE ALMA.
^
€'
^j^^jj^^Y the faint and dying watch fires,
Wounded, harassed, wearied out,
If ye hear the vengeful trumpet,
If ye catch the foeman's shout, —
Hn
Wliat great wonder, tliough the Eagle
Eussia crushed in height of j)ride,
) \ Should to-day have better fortune
With the Leopard at its side 1
Think, beside the Borodino,
How, where ninety thousand lay,
Eussian peasants kept the Old Guard
Twelve long dreadful hours at bay :
m
fM'
^^ When we fired our holy Moscow,
How, behind their rout and rack.
Hung the lances of the Ukraine,
And the vengeful Don Cossack !
If this world were all, how glorious
Was that storming of the height.
With the Chasseurs in the centre,
And the Life Guard to the right !
The Battle of the Alma. 155
"When around the dying ^larshal
Formed the line and rose the cheers,—
Him that trapped and burned the captives
In the cave beside Algiers.
Though outnumbered, out-niana'uvred,
Something comforts us within,
"Whispering, — It is sometimes nobler
To be conquered than to win ; —
2sobler to be conquered, falling
For each home, and wife, and pet, —
Nobler to be conquered, leaving
Names our land will not forget ; —
Nobler as our priests to perish,
Dying when they could no more ;
And our Sisters of S. Basil,
Nursing ancle deep in gore :
Than for greed of gold and glory
On the hard won field to say,
noD Himself approves aggression.
For to Him we owe the day.
France and England ! sing Te Deum
O'er the hopes by you defaced ;
O'er the homes by you made childless ;
O'er the hearths by you laid waste :
And, to serve both Goo ami Mammon —
Thi.s world's gain, but that world's loss —
Higli above your very altars
Wreathe the Crescent with the (.'ross.
156 English Lyrics.
There is One "by whom this action
Shall hereafter be repaid, —
Truer scales than those of glory,
"Where this battle shall be weighed.
On the Yigil of S. Matthew,
Eussian hearts shall ever pray
For the men that died by Alma,
When the Crescent won the day.
Courage, brethren, — France's tyrant,
Tlirough the good path ope'd by you.
May have yet his S. Helena,
Alma yet her Waterloo !
Key. J. M. Neale, D.D.
l.->7
\u
TEARS.
EAES are not always fruitful ; their hot
drops
Sometimes but scorch the cheek and dim
the eye ;
Despairing murmurs over hlackenetl hopes,
Xot the meek spirit's calm and chastened
cry.
Oh, better not to weep than weep amiss ;
For hard it is to learn to weep aright, —
To weep wise tears, the tears that heal and
bless,
The tears which their own bitterness
requite.
Oh, bettor not to grieve than waste our woe ;
To fling away the spirit's finest gold ;
To lose, not gain, by sorrow ; to overH(nv
The sacred channels which true sadness liold.
To shed our tears as trees their blossoms shed,
Not all at random, but to make sure way
For fruit in Hcason, wlum tlie bloom lies dead
On till; chill earth, the victim of di'cay ; —
1-38 English Lyrics.
This is to use the grief that God has sent,
To read the lesson, and to learn the love.
To sound the depths of saddest chastisement,
To pluck on earth the fruit of realms above.
AVeep not too fondly, lest the cherished grief
Should into vain, self-pitying weakness turn ;
Weep not too long, but seek Divine relief;
Weep not too fiercely, lest the fierceness burn.
Husband your tears ; if lavished, they become
Like waters that inundate and destroy ;
For active, self-denying days leave room.
So shall you sow in tears, and reap in joy.
It is not tears but teaching we should seek ;
The tears we need are genial as the shower ;
They motdd the being wdiile they stain the cheek.
Freshening the spirit into life and power.
Move on, and murmur not ; a warrior thou —
Is this a day for idle tears and sighs 1
Buckle thine armour, grasp thy sword and bow.
Fight the good fight of faith, and win the prize.
Eev. Horatius Bonar, D.I).
I of)
UXEA'PBESSED.
\VKLL8 within tlie soul of every artist
]\rore tlian all his elForts can exjjress ;
And he knows the best remains unuttered,
Sii^diing at what we call his success.
A'aiiily he may strive ; he dare not tell us
All the sacred mysteries of the skies :
Vainly he may strive ; the deepest beauty
^ f C'annot be unveiled to mortal eyes.
And the more devoutly that he listens,
And the holier message that is sent,
Still the more his soul must struggle vainly,
Lowed beneath a noble discontent.
Xo great Thinker ever lived and taught you
All the wonder that his soul received ;
X(i true Painter ever set on canvas
All the glorious vision he conceived ;
No Musician ever held your spirit
Charmed and bound in his melodious chains,
iJut Ixi 8UII' he hcai'.j, and strove to render,
Feeble echoes of celestial strains.
160 English Lyrics.
1^0 real Poet ever wove in numbers
All his dream ; but the diviner part,
Hidden from all the world, spake to him only
In the voiceless silence of his heart.
So with Love : for Love and Art united
Are twin mysteries ; different, yet the same :
Poor indeed would be the love of any
"Who could find its full and perfect name.
Love may strive, but vain is the endeavour
All its boundless riches to unfold ;
Still its tenderest, truest secret lingers,
Ever in its deepest depths untold.
Things of Time have voices, speak and perish ;
Art and Love speak, but their words must be
Like sighings of illimitable forests.
And waves of an unfathomable sea.
Adelaide Ann Procter.
IGl
EASTER.
" Beliold the place where they laid Ilini." — Makk xvi. G.
',*
v*4i
^»
'>]
SACRED sight ! behold tlie place,—
The sepulchre Avhere Jesus lay !
At either end an Angel sits
In silent rapture, as hehts
'I'lie guardians of this wondrous day :
And in the midst that empty space.
Before one early streak of da^^^l
Hath lit the Garden's hallowed shade,
Lo, faithful women come to mourn,
"With costly si)ices duly borne,
And eager hearts, yet sore afraid,
"Whom holy love had thither drawn.
But what is this ] From out the gloom
Bright Angels tell their glorious news ]■ —
They show the swathings of the Dead,
The napkin that was round His head :
But over-ljlcssed liearts refuse
The tidings of the empty tomb.
M
162 Eng I ish L yr ics.
Still week by week its Easter brings, —
The holy day the Lord hath made :
Yet, slow of heart, of spirit weak.
We, trembling in the darkness, seek
The Living One among the dead.
Though Death itself of glory sings. *
But when the age has run its race.
Behold, new-born from out the dust
Ten thousand saints shall throng the air,
And earth be left forsaken there ; —
The sleeping-place of all the just
An Easter-grave, — an empty space.
For now hath broke the Eternal Day ;
wondrous morn of second birth !
The blessed dead in Christ arise
To meet Him living in the skies :
And they shall see ncAV heavens, — new earth, —
Xo more the earth where Jesus lay !
EeV. H. a TOMKINS, M.A.
163
BREAD UPON THE WATERS.
" For now we see through a glass, darkly ; but then face to face." —
1 Coil. xiii. 12.
AY not, " 'Twas aU in vain,"
The angnisli, and the darkness, and the
strife ;
Love tlu'own upon the waters comes again
In quenchless yearnings for a nobler life.
Think ! In that midnight, on thy wear}'
^ ' ^>!r^ The stars shone forth — and 'neath their
•^^^O^f' welcome rays,
^^^Ay^ Thine hopes to Heaven like birds first took
'V' jV.r their flight,
^ And " thou shalt find them — after many
days."
Say not, " 'Twas all in vain,"
The vigil, and the sickness, and the tears ;
For in tliat Land " where there is no more pain,"
The grain is garnered from those mournful years.
The faded form, once sheltered on thy breast,
In gentle ministry thy care repays;
And smiling on thee from her sinless rest,
i'ear not to liiid her — " after many day.s."
164 English Lyrics.
Say not, " 'Twas all in vain,"
Thy tenderness, thy meekness — oh ! not so ;
A strength for others' sufferings shalt thou gain,
As healmg bahiis from hruised flowerets flow.
"Weep not the wealth in fearless faith cast forth
On the dark billows shipwrecked to thy gaze :
The bark was frail, the gem had still its worth.
And "thou shalt find it — after many days."
Say not, " 'Twas all in vain,"
The watching, and the waiting, and the prayer ;
In pierced hands hath it unanswered lain 1
'Twill grow more radiant as it lingeretli there.
'Tis space — where once thy quivering form was cast.
Thy heart- wrung sobs no floating breeze betrays ;
Yet, 'mid the white-winged choir thy prayer hath j)assed.
And " thou shalt find it — after many days."
Say not, " 'Twas aU in vain,"
The patience, and the pity, and the word
In warning breathed 'mid passion's hurricane.
Unheeded here — but God that whisper heard.
The tender grief, o'er strangers' sorrow shed,
The sacrifice that won no human praise.
In faith upon the waters cast thy Bread,
For "thou shalt find it — after many days."
Anna Shipton.
105
IN ALL TIME OF OUR TRIBULATION, GOOD
LORD DELIVER USJ'
o AVIOUPi ! liy Tliy sweet compassion,
<J^> So unmeasured, so Divine ;
vj ]>y that bitter, bitter Passion;
^^ By that crimson Cross of Thine ;
'^'^ V>y the woes Thy love once tasted
^^^ In this sin-marred world below,
c5 Succour those in tribuhition,
'^^^ Succour those in sorrow now.
Thou VHio wast so sorely burdened,
Ilil|i the weak that are oppressed ;
Sanctify all earthly crosses,
For the coming day of rest ;
Give the meek a trustful spirit
That will always lean on Thee,
And in storms of deep ailliction
Still Thy gracious Presence see.
Lord, Thou hast a holy purpose
In each suffering we bear ;
111 <a<.h throe of pain ami trinir,
In each secret, silent tear;
166 English Lyrics.
In the weary days of sickness,
Famine, want, and loneliness ;
In our night-time of bereavement,
In our soul's Lent-hitterness.
All the needful sweet correction
Of this gentle Hand of Thine,
All Thy wise and careful nurture,
All Thy faultless discipline ;
All to purge the precious metal.
Till it will reflect Thy face.
All to shape and polish jewels
Thine own diadem to grace.
Lord, we know that we must ever
Take our cross and follow Thee
All along the narrow pathway,
If we would Thy glory see ;
Then, help us each to hear it.
By Tliine own hard life of shame,
Let us suffier well and meekly.
Let us glorify Thy Name.
Cheer the weak ones who are bending
'Neath this weary burden now ;
Lift the pallid faces upward.
Smooth the care-worn furrowed brow ;
Send a bright and hopeful message
To each tried and tempted heart.
That the thick and gloomy shadows
At that sunshine may depart.
"7» all Time of our I'ribulation." 107
Tell tliem Tliou canst see all sorrow
lu this -world's rough -wilderness ;
Tell them Thou art near to succour,
Near to comfort, and to bless :
Tell them of Thy Cross and Passion,
Tell them of Tliy trials sore,
Tell them of the Angel-city,
"Where is joy for evermore.
Ada Cambridge.
68
THE ISIS.
"V
LOVE the quiet river meads,
Their memory is sweet to me,
For there were sown full many seeds
Of what my life is yet to he.
I love the hroad and grassy vale
Where gentle Isis wanders slow, —
The horizon fringed Avith "poplars pale,"
And where the willo\\y streamlets go ;-
The antique hridge, the lofty spire
Which tapers dark in golden air,
What time the slow-descending lire
• Of Summer eve is reddening there.
I love the foamy lasher-side.
With dripping river-Aveed o'ergrown ;
Where I would oftentimes ahide.
As silent as the mossy stone,
And watch the water, green and clear,
To where it hroke, and foamed, and flashed.
And lost itself in wild career.
And to the pool with shouting dashed.
J<
The Is'is. 1(3!)
But most I love dear Isis' stream,
AVhere, ofteu in a lonely boat
I would not break the sunset gleam,
But in the liquid lustre float.
And muse Avitli inward sweet content
On all the beauty round me there
In earth and sky together blent,
A harmony most deep and fair, —
Or with a rapid stroke and strong
Cleave through the Avater fresh and free.
Or, standing, slide the boat along.
Like savage of the tropic sea ;
Dipping an oar on either side.
In narrow creek, or reedy pool.
Among the lily-leaves to glide.
And in sequestered shadows cool,
Wliere floats the queen of river-flowers
In loveliness of perfect grace,
flaking through sultry Summer hours
" A sunshine in a shady i)lace :"
And where the groves of mellowed light
Beneath the glassy water grow,
A dim-discerned, enchanting sight,
Of green retirements deep bclow.
() hapi>y river, golden hours,
Of youth and licultli tli.' ihoiccst prime :
How throve the un<listracted powers
In life's most joyous morning-time!
170
English Lyrics.
When, after many years liad passed
With storm and sunshine o'er my head,
Once more my way was thither cast,
And toward my native stream I sped.
Another heart, and yet the same,
I felt ; another life was mine :
But while I near and nearer came.
The ancient light did cleaver shine.
And musing as I paced along,
When rose the lark with joyous cheer,
I thought he had another song, —
The song my hoyhood used to hear.
Eev. H. G. Tomkins, M.A.
171
WHEAT AND TARES.
EE yonder field with golden jilenty bending^
As swept by Slimmer airs ;
Amongst the rustling ears, too closely
blending,
Are rank and wasteful tares !
Such is our life : our best and piu-est
pleasures
Are mixed with sad alloy ;
And few among the soul's most cherished
treasures
But yield more grief than joy.
Even affections the most pure and holy —
The spirit's choicest flowers —
Are intertwined with weeds of melancholy,
And shade with glcom our bowers.
Tlie holiest incense we present to Heaven
Is mingled with stiiinge tire !
The bread of life is blended with earth's leaven,
. Nor satisfies desire.
Ill dreams mix with our slumbers when reposing ;
Hopes are allied to fears ;
Clouds blen<l with sunshine when the day is closing ;
Excess ijf joy l^rings tear.s.
172 English Lyrics.
A canker-worm round every gourd is creeping
That springeth from this earth ;
The enemy sows tares while we are sleeping,
To mar our harvest-mirth.
N^ought here is pure ; all is confused and blended, —
The evil with the good ;
The salvage of lost Eden has descended
"With relics of the flood.
Yet will this mixture prompt no vain repining,
ISTor the meek heart offend,
That might be asked, were all so bright and shining,
"How camest thou hither, friend '2 "
Here we expect not prizes, but probation ;
Labour, and not repose ;
Our safest triumph is some self-ovation.
And our best gifts our woes.
Patience awhile, the day of retribution
Will come, nor tarry long ;
Each doubt will then receive a clear solution,
A remedy each wrong.
Let all grow on till harvest, tares still blending.
And dazzling the mocked eye ;
The humbler corn, laden with worth, low bending.
In scorned humility.
The tares will then no more elude the reapers,
The fire will have its prey ;
No enemy will mock the expectant sleepers,
Or steal their hopes away.
Henry Godwix, F.S.A.
173
THE DESIRED HA YEN.
x>j
kV
,o
S ships, becalmed at eve, that Vaj
With canvas drooping, side by side,
Two towers of sail at daA\Ti of day
Are scarce long leagues apart descried ;
^\^lc'n fell the night, \\\> sprung the bree/A',
And all the darkling hours they plied ;
Nor dreamt but each the selfsame seas
By each was cleaving, side by side ;
Even so — but why the fate reveal
Of those, whom year by year unchanged,
Brief absence joined anew to feel.
Astounded, soul from soul estrangeil
At dead of night their sails were filled,
And onward each rejoicing steered, —
Ah ! neither blame, for neither willed.
Or wist, what first with dawn appeared
To veer, how vain ! On, onward strain,
]*rave bark ! In light, in darkness too,
nirough winds and tides one compass guides —
To that, and your own selves, be true.
174
English Lyrics.
Bnt, "blithe breeze ! and great seas !
Though, ne'er, that earliest parting past,
On your wide plain they join again.
Together lead them Home at last.
One port, methought, alike they sought.
One purpose hold, where'er they fare, —
bounding breeze ! O rushing seas !
At last, at last, unite them there !
Arthur Hugh Clough, M.A.
17.')
THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD.
rAIXTKD BY IIOT.M.VX IIUXT.
I.
T-^
" Behold, I stand at the door, and knock : if any
man hear ^[y voice, and open the door, I Mill come
in to him, and will sup with him, and ho with Me."
j; — lli:v. iii. 20.
:\
X the moonlight, wlien no murmur from
the haunts of men is heard,
.Vnd the river in its sleep flows onward,
f>nward to the sea,
.Vnd thou slecpest ■\vho art drawing nearer
t(j Eternity,
In the silence and the stillness comes
the Word.
And He knocketh at thy portal, hut thou
drcaiiicst in the night
Tliat tlie iiitting hat is cjnly striking softly
'gainst the door :
Shall He knock so oft wlio coiiu'th from
tin- llriiven's oternal Sliore 1
Sleeper in the darkness, rise, helioltl thy
Light !
176 English Lyrics.
'Tis tliy Priest and Prophet, clad in jewelled rote and
wliite attire ;
'Tis tliy King, and on His brow He Avears tlie thorn}'
coronal.
Budding now with amaranthine leaves and flowers ani-
hrosial.
In His face is speaking pity, silent ire.
Por His glowing lamp discloseth, choking up thy dwelling
door,
Deadly hemlock, barren darnel, prickly bramble, withered
grasses.
And the ivy knits it closely to its stanchions, and passes
Through the cre"vices, and hinges, and the floor.
Let Him in ! for He will sojourn with the lowest and
the least,
And forget that thou didst keep Him waiting in the
dews and damp,
And for guerdon in the valley He will light thee with
His lamp
To the happy Shore Eternal, and the Marriage Peast.
B. A.,
Brasenose College, Oxfm-d.
II.
Lord, Thou hast sought this wayward heart in vain ;
Choked by the world's vile weeds its portals stand,
Closed to the touch of Thy redeeming hand.
Which, knocking gently, wovdd an entrance gain :
Oh, Love unspeakable ! that Thou shouldst be
Patient amidst the night's chill falling dews,
While I Thy proffered fellowship refuse,
The Light of the World.
17
Slothful to rise and ope the door to Thee :
Long have I tarried, dreading yet to bear
The emblems of Thy suftering, thorns, and Cross ;
Lost in idolatry of ^lanimon's dross.
And lured by pleasure's transitory glare :
Henceforth vouchsafe to shed Thy light Avithin,
Illume my soul, and let these contrite tears
Elot out all record of my mis-spent years,
Dark ■with the sad remembrances of sin :
Then, in this purified repentant breast.
Enter ! and be for evermore my Guest !
"W. R. Neale.
178
A UTUMN MEMORIES.
BY THE LAKE.
-■■<(
I n=-^^
-tw-'i
EMjMED in "by mountains, girdled with
dark pines,
The lake lay sleeping ; not a ruffle
stirred
Its deep, calm waters, and the lengthening
lines
Of shadow kissed its breast : no sound
was heard.
Ahove, the clouds were coursing tlirough the
sky,
Save where there gleamed a deep of
purest hlue ;
And one star, lilce a signal lamp on high.
Into a form of Avondrous beauty grew.
It sjjarkled clear, like that strange star of
old
That led the wise men o'er their weary
way,
Till they had brought their frankincense
and gold,
And worshipped where the world's Ee-
deemer lay.
Autumn Memories. 170
I stood beside the margin ; 'twas a soa
Of glass ; fiiint ripples dreamed along the shore :
I wondered if more beautiful could be
The Land where seas and stars shall be no more.
And then I thought me of that lake of old
"Where once the Master 'mid the darkness trod,
Ai\d at His Avord the angry billows rolled
Their foam into a calm, and owned their God.
Tlien o'er me came faint glimpses of a stream
"\Miose waves make glad the City up above ;
Lit up for ever by the sunny gleam,
liellecting only heavenly light and love.
Oh, when the storms of life have ceased to beat.
Safe to the haven where we all would be.
Lord Jesu, bring our worn and wandering feet,
Beside the margin of the Crystal Sea !
II.
IX THE CLOISTERS.
HARD by the lake, girt with its forest zone.
The Abbey stands, — relic of days gone by :
The ivy clambers o'er the crumbling stone,
And mosses sleep where the dead calmly lie.
Amiil the ruins, o'er the chancel floor,
The dank weeds thicken, and tlie rains descend ;
The choir of voices sweet is heard no more,
Nor to the altar priests their footsteps weud.
180 English Lyrics.
But memories cluster round the cliapel grey,
And, lingering there, we live the past again.
And seem to hear, adown the lonely way.
The priestly footfall, and the solemn strain.
Still falls the yew-tree's shadow on the aisle,
Wearing its crown of life amid decay ;
Catching in early morn the sun's warm smile,
Watching the stars gleam till the hreak of day.
Wait a few years, and that dark yew shall fade :
But the true-hearted in their cloistered bed
Shall wake to life immortal, and, arrayed
In rohes of white, safe to their home be led.
That home, the Temple time can never dim ; —
No shadows frown, and no sad tears are there.
Oh, at the last, to join that ceaseless hymn.
The crown of all His perfected to wear !
III.
AMONG THE EUINS.
A QUIET Autumn eve. The sun was flinging
Long deepening shadows on the purj)le hill ;
And, save the Vespers happy birds were singing.
Or the faint sheep-bell, all was hushed and still.
The spot was sacred, — ruined arch and column.
The traceried Avindow, and the altar-stair.
Told of a worship. Catholic and solemn.
That in the ages gone was offered there.
Autumn Memories. 181
But now the jiorcli, o'ergrowu with weeds and grasses,
Leads only to the crumbling aisle and nave ;
.Vlong the gi"oin6d roof the stray bat passes,
While tlu'ough the transepts winter tempests rave.
IJut 'mid the ruins, all unmarred and stately,
A large stone Cross lifted its solemn head ;
The steps were worn, and the sight moved me greatly ;
It seemed to speak of Life amongst the dead.
Emblem and shadow of a truth still deeper, —
He who in Clu'ist's dear Cross hath healing found,
Shall safe be garnered by the Angel Reaper,
And stand secure upon the Holy Ground.
Clirist, the merciful High Priest and holy,
Keep Thou tliese hearts from desolation free ;
And from their inner shrine, made pure and lowly.
Let worshi^j rise, like incense, up to Thee.
Cleanse them from earthly dross. Thou true Refiner,
Tliy living light upon their dimness pour ;
Until we see Thee in the Land Diviner,
And with the Angels tread the Gulden Floor.
IV.
AT SEA.
ROIJED like a king, with coronet of gold,
( Jrandly the sun went down beneath the sea,
Flu.sliing the waves with aml)er as they rolled,
And fipeniiig up the deeps of Heaven to me.
182 English Lyrics.
Around, — the waste of waters, the white foam.
Gathering in snowy flakes, and glittering spray ;
Above, — the clouds, like great Cathedral dome,
All tinted with the hues of dying day.
Yet this vast ocean, with its restless tides.
He holdeth in the hollow of His hand ;
The clouds, the chariot where His glory rides.
And but His footstool all the peopled land !
Oh, Might and Majesty ! all thought above,
How eloquent these billows are of Thee !
depth untold ! mystery of love.
To know that outstretched Hand was pierced for me !
Eev. R H. Baynes, M.A.
183
« THESE three:
%
'k<
viewless angels by our side,
"Witli wings, but women sweet and good ;
" Tliese Three " indeed with us abide,
True types of womanhood.
Yea, I, in turn, have reached a hand
To each one of the blessed Three :
In one foir group I've seen them stand, —
Faith, Hope, and Charity.
My Faith hath misty hair, — and eyes.
You cannot fix their changing hue ;
But all the world within them lies.
And all the soul looks tlirough :
Ilcr voice doth make Divinely sweet
Each song of sorrow which she sings ;
Ami saildest wisdom fills re])lL'to
With heavenly comfortings.
My Hope is ruddy with the flusli
Of morning joy, that keeps its i)lacc
Though day ha.s darkened, and the rush
< >t" rain is on lier face.
] 84? English Lyrics.
Her clear eyes look afar, as bent
On shining futures gathering in ;
Nought seems too high for her intent,
Too hard for her to win.
My Love hath eyes as blue and clear
As clefts between the clouds of June,
A tender mouth, whose smiles are near
To tears that gather soon.
Her best and loveliest she takes
To light dark places ; wastes of life
She sows "with precious seed, that makes
All richest blessings rife.
-"o"-
Faith, when my soul in darkness dwells.
Shall sing her song throughout the night ;
Por each new effort life compels,
Hope's clasp shall nerve with might ;
Love shall divide each grief of mine,
Share every joy thus doubly given :
With each in turn life grows Divine,
"With all its tastes of Heaven.
ISA C#
10.
185
VISITATION OF THE SICK.
" Peace be to this house and to all that dwell iu it ! "
EACE to tliis house ! O Thou ^Vlioso ^vay
"Wiis on the wa\es, AVIiose voice did stay
The "vvild wind's rage, come, Lord, and say,
Peace to this house !
Thou, "Who in pity for the weak
Didst quit Thy heavenly Throne to seek
And save the k>st, come, Lord, and speak
Peace to this house !
Thou, Who dost all our sorrows know.
And Avhen our tears of anguish flow
Dost feel compassion, come, bestow
Peace on this house !
Thou, A\lio in agony didst pray,
" Take, Father, take this cuj) away,"
And then wast strengthened, couie and say.
Peace to this house !
'g!
O Conqueror hy suirerin<.
( ) mighty Victor ! glorious King !
From out of pain and sorrow Ijiing
Peace to this liouse !
186 English Lyrics.
Thou, 'Who triumphant from the dead
Thine Hands didst o'er the Apostles spread,
And say, " Peace to yoii," come, and shed
Peace on this house !
Thou, Who didst on the clouds ascend,
And then the Holy Spirit send,
Send Him to comfort and defend
All in this house !
Lord, in the Sacramental food
Of Thine own Body and Thy Blood,
Peace that is felt, not understood,
Give to this house !
Save, save us sinking in the deep,
Give ease from pain, and quiet sleep.
And under Thy wing's shelter keep
All in this house !
" Peace to this house," come. Lord, and say ;
Come to us. Lord, and with us stay ;
give, and never take away
Peace from this house !
And when at last our fainting breath
On trembling lips scarce quivereth,
bring us through the gate of Death,
Lord, to Thine House !
To Thine own House in Paradise,
To Thine own House above the skies,
To live the life that never dies,
Lord, in Thine House !
Archdeacon Wordsworth, D.D.
187
''HAVE MERCY ON ME, LORD,
THOU SON OF DAVID."
ITHIX the cool quadrangle's "welcome
sliade,
Beneath the linen awning, Jesus sought
.V moment's quiet, while the fountain
played
• ',, . ^ Her pleasant interlude to weary thought.
r\ \ Through the jiorch gleamed the rose-red
y^^V^'^'^ sunset snows
Of the wild crags of northern Galilee.
^y, "What awful life is in the God-repose
>V That with the Past and Present welds
Futurity !
Up the henched gateAvay thrills a woman's
cry,
As if the swollen torrent of deep care
Had torn down silence in its agony.
To fling Grief's secret on the trembling
air.
The loneliness of one unuttered woe,
Tlie silent tears when every hope had fled,
The sacred love, which mothers best may know,
When sickness glooms around a firstborn's bed ;
188 English Lyrics.
The weary hours "beside her httle child,
The patient sadness of her darhng's eye,
As Avith unselfish love she feehly smiled, —
All, all came sobbing on that bitter cry.
Lord, thou Son of David, pity me !
So 'mid the Avreck, bareheaded, 'gainst the spray
A drowning man might shriek across the sea.
When hope of human help had passed away.
Lord, thou Son of David, pity me !
While ghastly doubt stung her sin-laden breast,
If for the guilt, done by her secretly,
God's curse had fallen on what she loved the best.
He did not answer her one single word.
Yet love was speaking in His every look :
When earth is silent, then may Heaven be heard,
In sorrow's gloom Faith best reads God's own Book.
Think' st thou He hears not, when for many a day
Thy knees are worn Avith fasting and with prayer ]
Think'st thou He turns from any love away.
Because thou seest no Angel on the au' ?
*o^
Tempter, away ! each throb of pain He knows ;
I will kneel on, and wait His blessed time :
Ul? the steep staircase of Life's darksome woes
I'll climb and sing, till overhead God's Chime
Break with one roar of an eternal sea.
And lo ! if I have prayed He givetli more ;
I stagger down, half blind with victory.
Whispering the Chant from out the opening Door.
Eev. Alan Brodrick, M.A.
189
BY THE SHORE.
HE sun had set in, glory ; clouds of gold
VCnTG fringed "with "wondrous purple ;
crimson bars
Reddenod the foaming l)illo"\vs as they
rolled,
Till from heaven's blue gleamed out the
silent stars.
Then passed the !Moon up to her queenly
throne,
Tlie waters flashed with gems and glit-
tering ore ;
All earth was hushed to stillness, save the
moan
< >r the monotonous waves along the
shore.
I watched the strange clouds as they floated
Some dark and murky, willi a tlireatening
glare ;
Some white ami llcccy mounting up the
Like veiled angels on a shado\\'y stair.
190 English Lyrics.
And while I gazed I wondered what might he
The new, diviner Land for which we wait ;
For earth itself, from stain of evil free,
Would gleam with glory from the Golden Gate.
But there no clouds shall gather, and no more
The ocean rage — emblem of deep unrest ;
]^o storms shall sweep across that radiant shore,
!No night shall shroud that City of the blest !
This earth is beautiful; o'er land and sea
The mighty shadow of God's thought is cast ;
But brighter far the Home that is to be, —
Christ ! receive us to that Home at last !
Eev, R H. Baynes, M.A.
191
JACOB'S LADDER
II ! many a time we look on starlit niglits
V\) to the sky, as Jacob did of old,
Look longing up to the eternal lights.
To spell their lines of gold.
But never more, as to the Hehrew boy,
Each on his way the Angels Avalk a))ro;ul,
And never more we hear, with awful joy.
The audible voice of God,
Yet, to pure eyes the ladder still is set.
And Angel visitants still come and go ;
Many bright messengers are moving yet
From the dark world below.
Thoughts, that are surely Faith's outspread-
ing wmgs-
I'rayers of the Chuich, aye keeping time
and tryst —
Heart-wishes, making bee-like muriiiurings,
Their Uuwer the Eucharist —
192 English Lyrics.
Spirits elect, througli suifering rendered meet
For those higli mansions — from the nursery door
Bright babes that seem to climb with clay-cokl feet,
Up to the Golden Floor —
These are the messengers, for ever wending
From earth to Heaven, that faith alone may scan ;
These are the Angels of our God, ascending
Upon the Son of Man.
W. Alexander, M.A.
Dean of Emly.
193
MOMENTS.
LIE in a heaAy trance,
^oiC With a Avorld of dream without me ;
Shapes of shadow dance,
In "wavering bands, about me ;
But at times, some mystic things
Appear in this phantom lair,
That abnost seem to me visitings
(">f Truth knoAvn elsewhere :
The world is wide, — these tilings are small ;
They may be nothing, but they are All.
A prayer in an hour of pain,
Begim in an under-tone.
Then loAvered, as it would fain
Be heard by the heart alone ;
A tlirob when the soul is entered
By a light that is lit above,
Where the God of Nature has centered
The Beauty of Love :
The world is Avide, — these things are small ;
They may be nothing, but they are All.
A look tliat is telling a talc,
Wliir;h looks alone dare tell, —
When a cheek is no longer pale,
Tliat has caught the glance, ad it fell ;
1 94 English Lyrics.
A touch, which seems to unlock
Treasures unknown as yet,
And the bitter-sweet fii-st shock,
One can never forget :
The workl is wide, — these things are small ;
They may be nothing, but they are All.
A sense of an earnest will
To help the lowly-living,
And a terrible heart-thrill,
If you have no power of giving ;
An arm of aid to the weak,
A friendly hand to the friendless,
Kind words, so short to speak,
But whose echo is endless :
The world is wide, — these things are small ;
They may be nothing, but they are All.
The moment we think we have learnt
The lore of the all-wise One,
By which we could stand unburnt,
On the ridge of the seething sun :
The moment we grasp at the clue.
Long-lost and strangely riven.
Which guides our soul to the True,
And the Poet to Heaven :
The world is wide, — these things are small ;
If they be nothing, what is there at all %
Lord Houghton.
I
195
VOICE OF THE SEA.
^
ir.
-^i \
X^-
II AT means this tale, O Sea !
Wliich thou hast toUl the earth since she
was made 1
A long and patient hearing hast tliou had ;
And even yet thou wilt not let her be.
The bare liills edged the strand,
"NMierein was never sound of human speech^
When thy first breaker, falling on the
beach,
Luirau the tale we cannot understand.
r5
Thou hast seen tower, and hall.
And city, rise since then with tumult
loud, —
And gather ivj round them for a shroud, —
And sink into the silence waiting alL
Trees have withstood thy breeze,
"WHiich saw with thee how many a century passed ;
Another ever rising o'er the last ; —
Jiut thou liast seen the same befall the trees.
The hilLs are scarred by man,
Though years passed o'er them, and could leave uo trace ;
Jiut thou, each moment varying thy face,
Art now the same as when the world be^an.
196 English Lyrics.
So long hath sounded here
Thy voice, Sea ! repeating to the stones
One changeless tale, though said in many tones ; —
]Srow half-suhdued, as if in bashful fear,
At urging it once more :
I^ow, when the Summer sunbeams on thee lie,
Thou seemest to repose, and lazily
Murmur thy waves their message to the shore ; —
Now j)assionate again.
They boom as if to storm Earth's reckless ear, —
Now sorrowful, because she will not hear,
Sob forth all wearily the long refrain.
And is the tale not done ?
Earth cannot comprehend ; her ear is chill.
Why art thou doomed to moan it round her still,
E'en when she lies asleep beneath the moon ?
Her lamps shine mutely down
Along thy foam ; her children sleeping lie ;
Above there bends the calm and silent sky ;
"Why shouldst thou only palpitate and moan 1
The night will yet pass o'er.
The century "Close, upon thy murmur low.
Wliat is it, then, which thou wouldst have us know 'I
The weight of treasiu'es on thy sunless floor,
Where no eye comes in quest 1
The lonely vastness of thine azure realm,
Where league-long waves each other overwhelm 1
Or lieth so uneasy in thy breast,
Voice of the Sea. 1 97
All tliou from earth liust ta'en 1
Ah, Sea ! too rich, indeed, are thy deep caves ;
For, of the bright forms sunk beneath thy waves.
Sun, moon, and stars are all that rise again !
Yet — in that solemn chime.
Some holier secret surely hideth still.
l)oes yet thy voice with the rememl)rance thrill,
Of that strange moment at the birth of time,
"When, 'midst thy primal sleep,
Th(>re came God's Spirit moving on thy breast.
And shook thee, trembling, from thy glassy rest.
In quivering waves, Avhich still pulsating keep I
Ye two were all alone ;
The embryo earth beneath lay dark and colil.
"What wast thou in that Avondi'ous contact told ?
"What Avhispers didst thou hear of things unknown.
Which filled the heart of God,
liefore the first world on its axis turned ? —
An infinite but lonely Love that yearned 1 —
A purpose under all things lying broad ?
Ah, well thy tones may be
^rysterious ! charged with meaning too profound
For thee to shape aright, or us to sound.
Thou art but like the human soul, Sea !
"When, with great thoughts oppressed,
"\Miich the same Spirit through its voice woidd teach,
It can but hint them fortb in broken speech,
And seems to utter but its own unrest.
Althou or "AxGKi. Visits."
198
ON THE THRESHOLD.
OLD me not back, my children ! Let me
speed
j<-^ Onward, and ever onward ; for the path
Which the great Master hath for me
decreed,
Its lines of glory hath !
The shadoAvs fall behind me. See ye not
That all is bright towards which my foot-
steps tend ]
Come onward with me, towards the ap-
pointed spot,
Wliich is my journey's end.
Come onward with me, towards the setting sun, —
Towards the new morning portalled by the night.
When the allotted task of earth is done.
And darkness merged in light.
See, through the opening vistas of the west.
Bright glimpses of the Land toward which I am
bound !
The crystal- walled City of the Blest,
With Angel-watchers round.
Oil the Threshold. 199
Far mountain-ridges, gold and amethyst —
Ascending spires of kingliest }»alaces ;
And a calm ocean spread like sunlit mist,
Dctwixt mvself and these.
And all as in a light of God doth shine ;
And on the margin of that sunlit shore
I see the loved, the young that once Avere uiine,
Xot dead, but gone before.
And -with their hands they beckon unto me.
And Avith a voice-like melody they say,
" Here, beloved one, we wait for thee,
Until thou pass aAvay !
" Until thou pass away from earth and time —
Till the night-shadows flee, and thou emerge
Into the fulness of the Day sublime.
Of which thou seest the verge.
" Little remains to do as day grows late ;
Only to trust, to love with all thy heart,
To Ijless, like Christ the Lord ; to stand and wait,
And when lie calls, depart ! "
Thus sjjeak the voices : accept, my God,
Thy servant's feeble sacrifice of praise.
For that Thy goodness has to me allowed
The fulness of my days !
200
English Lyrics.
I praise and bless Thee ! bless Tliee for the gain
Which, of Thy mercy, life has been to me —
Bless Thee for joy — bless Thee for grief and pain,
AVhich brought me nearer Thee !
Lord, when Thou wiliest, call Thy servant hence ;
But, to the last, let love my being move ;
Unto the last, like Thee, let me dispense
From Thy great treasury. Love !
Mary Howitt.
201
*k
''SHE TS XOT DEAD, BUI' SLEEP Em."
IIE rests in peace : beside her tomb
The grasses wave, the low Avind sighs ;
Her spirit, iu its "long, long Home,"
Chants the glad music of the skies.
"What matter, friends, though her dust
sleep ]
^r^T^^yA^ ' Her spirit lives; avc will not weep.
Above her tomb the tall trees wave.
The gentle shadows fall, and rest
In sorrowing on her silent grave
Who leaneth on lier Shepherd's breast.
"What matter, friends, though Ik r dust
sleep ]
Heaven took its own ; we will not "weep.
Amid tlie tears of our distress
She passed to join the silent dead ;
From sorrow and from weariness
Her meek, Iniig-sulliring spirit fled.
"What matter, friends, tliougli licr dust sleeji 1
Heaven took its own ; we will not weep.
202
English Lyrics.
Beside the lowly house of prayer,
Her tomlDstone, unto us forlorn,
Cabning our grief- tells how from care
She, in the solitary morn,
" Looking to Jesus," fell asleep,
God loves His own ; we will not weep.
Edmund Sandars, B.A,
203
THE DYING SOLDIER'S WIFE.
][ ! well, the siui is sinking, — it will all be
over soon ;
'•• When the hungry jackals shriek to-night
to the yellow moon,
You will hear them, little daughter, and
shudder in your bed,
But I shall be gone, my darling, beyond
those bars of red.
For the sun is burning crimson, drnvn on
the date-trees' crown,
And the hills in the distance rising show
»- — 1^* purple, and blue, and broAvii ;
Eising up height over height, sheer into
^ A\ > V ^^\ the hot thin air,
V -^ ' «; I can see them where I lie, like a tinted
f marble stair,
Inlaid with green and amber, wrapt in a violet glow,
"While the wliite pagodas shine, and the i)alm-trees shake
lx;low :
But I would give all this glory for one pale northern
morn,
For the grey light in its heaven, and the gleam of its
golden corn.
204; English Lyrics.
It's far away in the "West, and it's long ago, my dear,
But the shadows grow sharp and long, as evening draweth
near ;
And all the long day I have heard, across this sultry heat,
A patter of rain in the leaves, and the salt wave's tremu-
lous heat.
It was early Autumn weather ; the flax was in the pool,
And just this time of evening, hut a night so calm and
cool.
The curlew came up and cried in the shingle along the
shore.
And the blue hills turned to hlack, as I stood at my
father's door.
Ah ! why should all this come back to-night on my dying
brain % —
I heard their footsteps coming, and their voices in the
lane.
Mother was in the byre ; I, too, should have been there.
But I knew they were talking of me, and I shpped out
unaware.
" IS'eighbour," my father was saying, "forty pounds has
the lass.
And if you will not have her, you can even let her pass."
Washing, Avashing, washing, came the tide on the black
rocks by.
But my heart beat louder and faster for fear of the man's
reply.
He was the wealthiest farmer in all our country wide, —
But he was not to my mind, Jane, had he been an earl
beside.
The Dylncj Soldiers Wife. 20.-)
Angry and sharp came the answer, — "Forty is little," he
said ;
" You shoukl give your eldest daughter a trifle more to
wed."
Spake out then your soldier father, — he stood the next to
nie ;
I knew it before he said a word, although I could not see :
" I reckon," said he, " there's that can never be bought or
sold,
And if you give me ^lary, I ask nor silver nor gold."
"Washing, Avashing, wasliing, came the tide up over the
stones,
Was it that or my own heart-beating that changed my
Father's tones 1
" Forty pounds is her dower, and you shall have her,"
said he. —
It's long ago, my darling, and it's far, far over the sea.
Ah! why .should all this come luu-k to-night, when my
brain is weak ] —
The rush of the wild south-wester, and the soft spray on
my cheek, —
I'-ve forgotten so many things, l)ut tliis lives in my breast.
Like the blaze of a crimson dawji burnt into a gloomy
west.
I've forgotten so many tilings, or tliey pass me by in a
maze, —
The Sepoys' murderous battle, and Lucknow's weary days ;
206
English Lyrics.
The dropping sliot on the rampart, the sight of your
Father's "blood ;
And the wail, and the fear, and the hunger, behind those
walls of mud.
They pass me hy like spectres, as I go down to the grave,
But a music tender and strange comes to me over the
wave ;
The church stands under the wood, Avhere the hill dips
to the loch.
She sings as a mother sings, when she makes the cradle
rock.
Solemnly moves the pastor's lip, and as he prays and reads.
The words of love and of promise drop down like goldeii
heads ; —
Oh ! it's well that strain has lingered within me to this
day,
For it's little I've heard of Christ in this land where
Christians sway.
Is it well, land of glory ! to send thy brave sons forth
From thy sunny southland meadows, thy grey clili-
guarded North ]
You give them bread in the barracks, and weapons for
the strife.
But not a Sword to fight the fiend, and not the Bread
of Life.
From your valleys croAvned with Churches, a dry Cross
on their brow,
You send them out, with never a one to bid them keep
their vow.
The Dying Soldiers Wife. 207
They fight your battles bravely ; thoy die for you, swov J
in haml,
And leii\'e their fair-faced orphans behind in a heathen
land, —
Behind, with never a Church-bell rung, never a chanted
psalm.
But hellish rite, and song impure, and the idol 'neath the
palm.
They may grow up in that darkness; there's none to care
or know —
rich men over in England ! mothers ! should this
be so?
There's never a heart among you, up to the Queen on her
throne,
But thrills when the terrible tale of this Indian War is
known :
Never an eye but weeps, where her soldiers' arms are piled —
You give him tears and honour, give gold for his
perishing child.
Hush I hush ! they are passing away, the long wash of
the sea ;
And the singing down in the Church makes music no
more for me :
1 am drifting slowly homeward, and though there be
clouds afar,
They touch but the sails of the ship that crosses the
harbour bar.
For it's not the dying sun that shines in my dying eyes,
But a trail of the glory of Heaven over the moiuitain lies ;
208 English Lyrics.
So lift me up, my darling, 'tis a gleam of the Golden
Floor,
Tlirougli tlie Gate that is all one pearl, where Christ has
passed hefore.
I have served Him badly, my child, weakly, below my
desire,
Fearing, and falling, and rising, yet evermore coming
nigher ;
But as the sunbeam draws all other lights into its ray,
As the hand takes tenderly in the bird that wandered
away, —
So the love of that Heart Divine absorbs my poor weak
love.
So the Hand of my Saviour in Heaven takes in His weary
dove;
And I could go so gladly, but ever there rises a mist —
'Tis you and your little sister — betwixt my soul and
Christ.
Cecil Frances Alexander.
:2()!)
GOING OUT AND CuMlXG IX.
- X that home were joy and sorrow,
^Vliere an infant lirst drew hreatli,
^\1iile an aged sire was waiting
Xear unto the givte of deatL
His feeble pulse was foiling,
And his eye was growing dim ;
He was standing on the threshold
AVlu'u they brought the babe to him ;
"N^Tiile to murmur fortli a blessing
On the little one he tried,
V In his trembling arms he raised it —
Pressed it to his lips, and died.
An awful darkness resteth
< >n the path they both begin.
Who thus meet upon the threshold,
(jroing out and coming in.
f loing out unto the triumph,
Coming in unto tlu; tight, —
Coming in unto the darkness,
^loing out unto the Light —
.\lth(iugh the shadow deepened
In the moment of eclipse,
When 111- ]i;i-,si(l through tlu; dread jjortal
With a blessing on his lips.
•:vo
English Lyrics.
And to him who bravely conquers
As he conquered in the strife,
Life is but the way of dying —
Death is but the gate of Life ;
Yet awful darkness resteth
On the path we all begin,
Where we meet upon the threshold,
Going out and coming in.
211
DTIXG AMONG THE PINES.
^^Xi'
YIXG among the pines, tlie living pines,
That hold their heads gi'een aU the Win-
ter througli,
And from their dark trunks, seamed with
silver lines,
Drop downi all day then- healing balm
like dew,
] Wliere the soft beat of the low pulsing sea
[r Scarce ruffles on the level silver strand,
So well the pine woods, hanging on her lea.
Filter the rough winds ere they touch the
sand.
^ 1;^ laying, still dying, — far out in the wood.
Over the sand, there lies a sacred ground,
^g^*^^ Where quaint wliitu wreath and roughly
cai'S'en rood
Tell that the toil-worn fishers rest have
found,
Out in the wood, beyond the sandy reach
Of the white domes. Ah me ! 'tis far to lie I
There are no northern daisies by this beach ;
She had not need to come so far to die.
212 English Lyrics.
As "vvlien from some great ship in mid seas wrecked,
A haty corpse is washed on some green isle ;
For the short sleep that was so long bedecked
In purest lawn, and wearing still a smile ;
"Which finding, the dark natives, with white teeth
And plumed heads, lay covered in a cave, —
So leave the EngUsh lady underneath
The southern pines, beside the fisher's grave.
Through the green boughs aslant the warm sunbeams
Shall wrap her feet as in a white lace shroud, —
Surely this wealth of natural life beseems
Her better than the raindrop or the cloud.
"VMiat dim, faint gleams that symbol life unrols
Of the great Life whereof the door is Death !
And that sweet love of Christ, that to our souls
Is sun, and light, and shade, and balmy breath I
Dying among the pines : ah, lightly lie,
"White sand, that bearest nor violet, nor moss ;
This earth is hallowed under every sky,
A wreath of glory hangs on every cross.
Cecil Frances Alexander.
213
/ JIAVE THE KEYS OF HELL AND DEATW
LORD ! Thine other names are sweet
As music to tlie listening ear,
But this thrills all our awe-struck heart
"With iitful })ulse of gloomiest fear ;
Thou Lord of Heaven ! ami dost Tliou
dwell
The holder of the keys of Hell I
Light of Love ! Fount of Life !
^ Clear spring of joy for all on earth,
Still quickening all to higher mood.
Thou worker of the second birth ;
From Thee we draw each moment's breath,
And art Thou, then, the Lord of Death \
Yea, Lord ! through all that drear abyss.
Where spirits wail their evil past,
Thy love and pity still look on,
Long-suffering, conquering at the last :
From Thee flow menty, pardon, peace,
From 'I'liee the woe that shall not cease.
214 English Lyrics.
Clirist, eternal Light of Love !
Judge, eternal Fire of "Wrath !
Guide Thou our steps the narrow way ;
Oh, lead us on the upward path :
Our darkness let Thy light illume.
Thy fire our baser dross consume.
We need not turn, for help or grace,
To saints' or martyrs' pitying ruth.
For Thou art still the "Way, the Life,
In Thee all mercy meets all truth ;
Oh, leave us not, Thou Lord of all.
Through pains of death from Thee to fixll.
Oh, plunge us in Thy priceless blood !
Oh, purge us in Thy cleansing fire !
"Wash out each stain of sinful birth.
Burn out each taint of low desire ;
Tlirough fire and water lead Thine own
To rest before Thy Father's throne.
Eev. E. H. PluIviptre, M.A.
•215
THE SONG OF THE BPxIDE.
ALL all who love Tliee, Lord, to Thee ;
Thou knowest how they long
To leave these broken lays, ami aid
Til Heaven's \inceasing song ;
HdW they long. Lord, to go to Thee,
And hail Thee Avith their eyes, —
Thee in Thy blessedness, and all
The nations of the skies.
All who have loved Thee and done wcl
Of every age, creed, clime ;
The host of saved ones from the ends
And all the worlds of time :
The Avise in matter and in mind,
The soldier, sage, and priest.
King, prophet, hero, saint, and bard,
The greatest soul and least ;
The old, and young, and very babe.
The maiden and the youth,
All re-born Angels of our age, —
The age of Heaven and Irulli ;
The rich, the poor, the good, the })ad,
Kedeemed alike from sin ; —
Lord ! close the book (if time, and lit
Eternity begin.
I'lllI.II' .Ia.mks r.Aii.v
216
AT THE ALTAR.
At the administration of the Lord's Supper on Whit- Sunday, my
attention was attracted by the cries of a little child who had been left
by his mother at her seat, while she waited with others at the altar.
The boy struggled with those who tried to pacify him, and at last
broke away from them and ran towards his parent, who was now
kneeling at the rail. The child seemed to be awed by the solemnity
of the scene, became unconsciously silent, and then knelt down by
his mother's side. When I approached them with the consecrated
bread and wine, he reached out his hand, as though supplicating for
the spiritual food which I was offering to his mother.
This little incident suggested the following lines : —
^f^
AY, little child, what wouldst thou at this
place ?
For kneelmg at this sacred Fountain's
i^^~^g^f- Thou gazest silently, but must not drink.
^^! 1?^ What spell enthralls thee 1 Wouldst thou
^i^^M^Qt Clirist embrace,
Ere yet thine infant feet have learnt to
trace
The thorny path which Christ's disciples
tread 1
Or dost thou early feel thy spirit's need.
Thou youthful suppliant at the Source of Grace 1
I know not. But I hail thy presence here.
In token that thou wilt His servant be
Hereafter, whom thou honourest now unkno\^■n,
And tearfully to Him I make my prayer.
That He in mercy may remember thee.
Thou little child, and mark thee for His own.
Ykn. Archdeacon Bickersteth, D.D,
:217
THE DEATH OF DAVID.
[iXSEKTEI) ItY Sl'ECIAL PERMISSION OF THE PUBLISHEKS,
MESSRS. J. MASTERS AND CO.]
" So David slept with his fathers." — 1 Kings ii. 10.
TX(r David sleepeth in his fathors' grave —
( ) for one echo of that deep dirge-strain,
Mourning so well the beautiful and brave,
f That rang erewhile o'er Gilboa's royal
slain !
for a murmur as of liis own Psalms,
Toucliing all hearts, like a great wind at
That sports with Xature in long ocean
calms,
And green earth valley.s, all a .Summer's
day!
From his calm face the shadows sharj) and
strong
Of olil(-n days liavc jyasscil, and li-ft it still;
From liis closed lip the last low lingering
song,
Like the last echo Hung liack from a hill.
218 English Lyrics.
Has died away ; and never, never more,
So bold a hand shall sweep the silver lyre,
So true a tone shall teach to kneel and soar,
So sweet a voice shall lead the saintly choir.
Warrior, and king, and minstrel more renowned
Than ever touched fair fancy's noblest chord ;
Saint with a wondrous weight of glory crowned,
At once the type and prophet of his liOrd ;
He hath gone down into the shadowy vale —
What though his face with many tears Avas wet,
Though sin's remorseful cry, though sorrow's wail.
Swelled from that harp to heavenly music set ;
Still in that grief we read a deeper sorrow,
The awful mystery of a suffering God ;
Still from that sharp, sin-laden cry we borroAV
A voice that mourns where our own feet have trod.
AVhat though his warrior eye might ne'er behold
On green Moriah's side the white stone flower,
For Avhich his red right hand had piled the gold.
Planning God's temple in his happier hour;
Still like a dream before his eye it slept,
Its chambers flooded with a golden glow,
A strange bright place where faintest odours crei)t.
From cedar-flowers eternally in blow.
And he had heard a grander music thrilling,
Where needs no temple's marble wall to rise ;
id seen liis glorious ritual's fulfilling,
And known the One sufficient Sacrifice.
The Death of David. 21i)
As a great mountain on a stormy eve,
After a stormy day, stands dimly sIiomti,
— How many times we saw tlie grey mist weave
A murky mantle for his crest of stone ! —
Now a "brief sxinset splendour -wTaps his brow,
A crimson glory on a field of gold,
Yet the wild tide is breaking dark below,
Xor from its shaggy side the cloud has rolled —
So dim, so beautiful we see thy form.
Conqueror and saint, man sinning and forgiven.
Around thee "\\Tapt earth's shadows and its storm,
^^'ith here and there a glimpse of purest Heaven.
But the mom breaks — a morning without clouds,
A clear calm shining when the rain is o'er ;
He lieth where no mist of earth enshrouds,
In God's great Sunlight AVTapped for evermore.
r.-<almist of Israel ! sure thou hearest now.
If sweeter strains than thine can ever be,
A sweeter music where the elders bow,
Striking their harps upon the Crystiil Sea.
Ct;ClL FUANCES Al.KXA.NUKU.
220
THE HOUR OF DEATH.
<i
AY, wouldst thou die
Wlien weejDing clouds are in the sky,
When wind and rain
Beat fiercely on the window-pane.
And dark the tempest-drift goes b}- ?
Or when the flowers
Are bright with sunshine and with showers ;
"When from their bloom
The fragrance rises to thy room,
And gladdens thee throvigh lonely hours %
Or when the light
Is strong in Heaven % Or when the night
Hath veiled her face.
And hurries on with rapid pace,
Wouldst thou desii'e to' pass from sight ]
Or wouldst thou go
When Winter, with her shroud of snow.
Hath hid the ground,
Veiling in white each grass-grown mound ?
Or when the golden lilies grow \
The ILatr of Death. 221
Say, wouldst thoxi lie
Alone with Hiiu AVho calletli thee ?
Or Avouldst thou have,
AVithiu that shadow of the grave,
Kind faces round which thou niayst see ?
Xay, care not when
The messenger may come, if then
He calls thee Home,
And with glad welcome bids thee come
Where mourners sorrow not again.
Xor have one care
How Death may come to thee, or where,
If only thou
Canst feel the light upon thy brow.
Beneath the Hand that does not spare.
Dear Lord, with Thee,
Content Avith Thine all- wise decree,
We leave the end ;
For Thou, our Brother and our Friend,
Wnt one day come and make us free.
Make us Thine own.
That we may know as we are known ;
Lord, make us Thine,
That we, within Thy Light Divine,
May see Thee crowned njion Thy Throne.
liEV. II. A. Rawks, :\I.A.
99.)
EMMA US.
BIDE with us," tliey say, "the day is spent ;
Abide with us, and rest." He set His Face
Towards the upland slope, where yet abide
The sentinels of twilight : still they urge
Eedoubling their petition.
As He yields,
The board is spread : and at the frugal
meal
They stand, and give God thanks ; then sit
and eat.
iSTay ! mark that Stranger now ! He taketh
bread.
He blesseth, and He breaketh.
And their eyes
Are opened, and they know Him !
It is He,
The Lord of Wliom they spake : the Lord
that died.
And rose again, and lives for evermore.
And He hath vanished !
Oh to see Him yet !
"Did not our hearts burn in us as He showed
How Moses and the Prophets speak of Him,
Fmniaus. 22o
His Death ami Victory ? " — That same hour thi-y risf,
And, lighted by the Paschal Moon, that now
Floods holy Olivet with trembling light.
Wend back towards the city. There the Eleven
Had met this eve in silence and in fear.
With doors fast locked, lest enemies intrude.
Two days agone, "Though all men," was their boast,
"Eeject Thee and deny Thee, yet not we :"
And they forsook the first ! — And what if now
They who forgat Him be by Ilim forgot 1
What if the golden chain of love be snapped ? —
Xay, never, never deem it ! This His law :
Loving His o\\ni. He loves them to the end.
Meanwhil(% up hill, through copse, doAni vale, thoy go.
Where lately He was with them : on they press.
With this one yearning hope, to tell the tale
Tliat shall remove all fear and end all doubts.
Xow they have reached the portal ; now they meet
The challenge of the soldier : now they tread
The dim and silent city streets, and gain
The upper room, that kernel of the Church.
And lo ! they hear the tale they thought to tell :
" The Lord Ls risen indeed, and hath appeared
To Simon!"
the joy of joys ! Day
Blest beyond all days ! Portal to the sky !
Tlie golden ladder, lifting man to God !
And Thou, — what tongU(! can tell Tliy praise ?— what
heart,
Bursting in thankfulness, can sing Thy love,
Thou vaufiuished Victor, Crucified .Supreme,
That rcigncat, because Thou sufferodst ? Thou hast now
224 English Lyrics.
Done Avith those woes for ever : Tliou liast left
That glorious TeTiXeiTTai to Thy band
Battling in this world ; Tliou upon the vault
Of "terrible crystal,"* which the Angels trea'l,
Standest in the midst, the Lamb that hast been slain ;
And seest the prostrate Elders, and the Four
Mysterious Living Creatures, and the soids
Perfect through suffering, that have reached Thy Land
By the same path Thou troddest ; and how they strike
Their purest light-harps, and ascribe to Thee
The glory, and the msdom, and the might,
The victory and salvation !
Grant me, God,
Gne day, the lowest place beneath their feet !
Eev. J. M. :N"eale, D.D.
* Ezel-iel i. 22.
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