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8CRKEIEY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
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THE 
 
 VISION OF THE CROSS, 
 
 AND 
 
 #t^^r ^0^ms. 
 
 BY 
 
 EDWARD ANDREW PHILLIPS, Esq. 
 
 Bengal Ahmy. 
 
 LONDON : 
 HATCHARD & CO. 187 PICCADILLY, W. 
 
 1860. 
 
LOAN STACK 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed by G. Barclay, Castle St. Leicester Sq. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 THE VISION OF THE CROSS 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS : 
 
 THOUGHTS ON A NEW-YEAR's MORNING 
 
 SYMPATHY ..... 
 
 A REVERIE . . 
 
 THE yew-tree's SHADE 
 
 A HISTORICAL PICTURE ON THE BANKS OF THE WYE 
 
 TO BRECON ..... 
 
 A SISTER'S VOICE ..... 
 
 THE CASCADE ..... 
 
 THE POETRY OF PEACE .... 
 
 LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM . 
 
 THE MIRAGE ..... 
 
 PAGE 
 
 3 
 
 43 
 52 
 66 
 70 
 73 
 83 
 85 
 88 
 92 
 94 
 97 
 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 PAOE 
 
 THE STORMY PETREL ..... 99 
 
 THE SECRET OF CONTENT . . . . . 100 
 
 " THE DAYS THAT ARE GONE " ... 107. 
 
 A REQUEST ...... 109 
 
 A PROMISE ...... 112 
 
 " REQUIESCAT IN PACE " . . . . .114 
 
 THE DEPARTED SABBATH .... 117 
 
 NOTES ....... 121 
 
THE VISION OF THE CEOSS. 
 
 AX ALLEGOEICAL POEM. 
 
 B 
 
Aegument. 
 
 Earth. The Garden of Childhood. The many paths of 
 life all lead to the valley of Death. Keceiving the Kingdom 
 as a Child. A Flower of the Garden transplanted. Sympathy* 
 The living Way. A Guide to the Hills. Vision of the Cross. 
 The path of Error leads to Unbelief and Despair ; Penitence : 
 The Cross in the Storm. The missing Guide is revealed by the 
 light of the Spirit, who leads to the place of Refuge. Eesting 
 on the Rock of Ages. The distant Hills. 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 " And there shall be a tabernacle for a shadow in the day- 
 time from the heat, and for a place of refuge, and for a covert 
 from storm and from rain." — Isa. iv. 0. 
 
 I OVERLOOKED a plain, extending wide. 
 
 As meets the eye of mariner, when morn 
 
 Struggling with night o^erru files all the sea 
 
 With soft forerunning breeze, to break the mist 
 
 And clear a pathway for his tender light. 
 
 Faint, far, on every side a landscape dim. 
 
 Yet dimly beautiful, for fancy kind 
 
 Filled up the want of half-disccrnmeut fair. 
 
 As ever wont, with touches all her own ; 
 
 Well shaped each tree, and every glimmering held 
 
4: I THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Thick stored with bounty, and herself surprised. 
 Half dreading clearer view which might distract 
 Enraptured sense, and harsher truths display. 
 Wider and wider nevertheless it grew. 
 In pleasant robes of varying light adorned. 
 Smiling from slumber fresh with heavenly dews. 
 Wild flowers as burst the sudden morn from far 
 Delighted blushed through all the silver mist 
 That veiled their beauty from the fervent light. 
 Trembling ^twixt fields and sky. Where first the Morn 
 Broke on the twilight stretched a shining chain 
 Of lofty hills, in mantling lustre robed. 
 And;, stretching thence his glowing arms, he held 
 The purpled plain beneath in warm embrace. 
 Ten thousand orisons shook all the woods 
 With choral music, and from whispering dell 
 Wild echo challenged, and each stony rock 
 Moved to soft rapture with the general song. 
 Till filled the vault of smiling heaven with light. 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 And grateful Earth with rich harmonious praise. 
 Then first appear^ no more a plain my view, 
 Here verdant heights and bare, with steep descents, 
 And there deep dingles, ran through all its reach, 
 And forests smooth or broken mixed between 
 In mingled order, from its centre far 
 To small perspective ; all the various views 
 Of scene familiar gathered, formed in one. 
 
 Now I a garden saw, by sparkling brooks 
 Profuselv nourished, nor were noiser floods 
 Deep driven there, with loud tumultuous flow 
 To sound discordant, or dismay the charm 
 Of song sweet swelling from its rustling groves 
 To every glad retreat -, but whispers breathed 
 From verdant plot, or wayside violet bed, 
 Snow-white and fragrant more than all beside. 
 Spoke still contentment, where, with gaudy wings 
 Of many powders, fanned the feathery shade 
 
6 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 The airy butterfly, or sunny sport 
 
 Held drone and ladybird and numerous hordes 
 
 Of happy insects ; and beneath the arms 
 
 Of spreading lime, beside the babbling rill, 
 
 Lay snow-white lambs till cooler hours of play. 
 
 These, held by narrow bounds, seemed fairer all 
 
 Than other prospect given ; among the trees 
 
 Thick overarched, one path embowered ran 
 
 From midst its beauties to a gate that there 
 
 Closed on the wide expanse, without which lay, 
 
 Then distant circling, where the aching eye 
 
 To trace them failed, paths numberless outbranched. 
 
 Whilst arrowlike this centre way was laid, 
 
 Strait bound between ; at one strange spot alone, 
 
 One hazy mount, (though there direct it led,) 
 
 Lost to my vision veiled ; and far beyond 
 
 Burst forth again each errant path and this 
 
 In clear display, as ^neath an autumn sky 
 
 When noon is past, and lengthening falls the shade 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 7 
 
 On mistless meadow or unvaried moor, 
 
 Imbrowned by changes of the ripening year. 
 
 All I had seen from diverse prospects drawn 
 
 To me, at length, — a far spectator then — 
 
 Appeared to form one sunless passage broad 
 
 Through the deep bosom of a darksome vale, 
 
 Bound of all nearer than the sun -rise hills. 
 
 Dense fixed gloom hung o^er its barren breast, 
 
 Where trees of aspect drear their naked boughs 
 
 Extended o^er that path, and canopied 
 
 Its solemn stillness, thickening with the gloom, 
 
 Buried in which at last the whole were lost. 
 
 No power had I to penetrate its depths. 
 
 But piercing deep in thought, at intervals 
 
 Broke the dull roll of waters on my ear, 
 
 As in its midst a loosened torrent raved. 
 
 Or tempest-tossed mth surging billows smote 
 
 Its channel sides in strong tempestuous ire. 
 
 I shuddered, and exclaimed : — ^^ AMiat wisdom e^er 
 
8 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Would urge the footsteps onward, and so far, 
 E'en were it prone to yonder radiant hills, 
 Since further than that vale no road is shown 
 Upleading there, nor other path is found 
 (Welcome it were!) which shall not reach its shade ? 
 Say, ye dark fields ! oh, leafless bowers, declare ! 
 Are ye not ever green ? or, where the Sun 
 Averted calls away the trembling dawn, 
 Eternal do ye stand the tomb of Time 
 And Time's events ?" Ere mine was hushed a voice, 
 Borne from the garden, bid me start and turn. 
 As light it echoed o'er the laughing meads. 
 
 There one did lean upon its gate and gaze 
 Beyond, as anxious for that freedom wide, 
 In admiration's longing wonder lost ; 
 But not from him those merry accents rose 
 Which seemed a moment to disturb and change 
 His trancelike reverie : amidst the flowers 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 9 
 
 There strayed a lovely child, upon whose brow, 
 
 As sunshine on the streamlet, I beheld 
 
 The name of Peace imprinted soft and clear. 
 
 Ah, happy one ! thy locks of gold were bright ; 
 
 How deep the lustre of thy laughing eyes ! 
 
 If e'er they wept, their bitterest tears were shed 
 
 Like ApriPs early rain, which, as it falls, 
 
 Glad sunshine wipes away, and in the sky 
 
 Long dwells a deeper and serener blue. 
 
 " See,'' she exclaimed with eager voice again, 
 
 ^^ Within this rosy arbour I have found 
 
 A volume placed, a shining treasure — see ! 
 
 On all those paths beyond there cannot be, 
 
 JMy brother, aught so fair, or streams and flowers. 
 
 As these around, or beautiful as now 
 
 The prospect of yon rising hills from here ! " 
 
 " Sister," the youth in thoughtless mood replied, 
 ^^ Why there remain ? the sunshine overhead 
 
10 THE ASSIGN or THE CROSS. 
 
 To show the splendour of yon spacious fields 
 Is given : Come, let us, in those valleys white 
 With daisies of the spring, together roam ; 
 Or shall I but a little while be gone, 
 Of every bud that fairest there is found 
 To twine a wreath to deck my sister^ s brow ? 
 Why still so silent ? Peace, oh, tell me why 
 Thou car'st for nothing save those hills remote 
 We cannot reach ? we know not what is there." 
 
 Like heavenly music to my ears arose 
 That babels soft answer, that, with smile half sad. 
 To him, whose name was writ Unwise, she gave : — 
 " Their light is dear, nor there is valley dark 
 To fright me when I gaze, however far ! 
 And what a beauteous place must that needs be 
 Whose sunshine tints these leaves and flowers around ! 
 There often do I think can be no night. 
 For when at early hour the songs awake 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 1 1 
 
 And call me from my rest^ first there I look, 
 And all is glorious, and my heart is glad : 
 Nor when the peaceful sea unrippled shines 
 Beneath the setting sun, and with the plains 
 Grows twilight grey, are they too shadowM o^er, 
 Most lovely then ! And nightly gilded seen 
 When hours of sleep arrive ; for, turned on them. 
 These eyes scarce- willing close, and pictured scenes 
 Such as are there my happy dreams divide ! 
 But more than all, the only hindrance here 
 To perfect pleasure is at last removed ; 
 For this straight path these eyes can now behold 
 Pass o^er the bosom of yon hazy mount 
 Above the vale, and to those realms I love : 
 Oh ! wondrous mount ! '' — She ceased ; a sight ap- 
 peared 
 Of sudden glory strange ; for down that way 
 Came One exceeding beautiful and bright. 
 With rainbow splendour, wide-encompassed round. 
 
12 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Of heavenly mildness grand ; such form perchance, 
 
 A God confessed, where every tribe and tongue 
 
 Before the golden image prostrate fell, 
 
 At sound of music upon Dura^s plain, 
 
 The guilty Babylonian monarch awed ; 
 
 Fourth in the powerless furnace of his pride. 
 
 And kindling wrath to Judah^s childi'en blest : 
 
 Though nought of terrible that aspect mild 
 
 Or fear imparted, with uneasy dread, 
 
 Unwise shrank back into the neighboring shade 
 
 Suspicious gazing, as when fallen of old 
 
 From lofty innocence to shame defiled. 
 
 The sound familiar of his Makei^^s tread 
 
 Bid Adam's heart grow faint, and to the trees 
 
 His footsteps hasten with ungrateful speed. 
 
 Meanwhile more lovely, but with paler face. 
 
 She who had watched him from afar was seen : 
 
 Nor once those eyes, grown wat'ry with the light. 
 
 Withdrew, nor once those tender hands unclasped. 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 13 
 
 It seemed the little fair one^s heart would burst 
 With adoration great ; and now He came 
 With outstretched arms, and took her kindly up 
 Into their bright protection — seemly rest 
 For beauteous Peace ! From oiF a rosy bank 
 Where she had laid it, then the Book he raised^ 
 And beckoning onward from his near retreat 
 Her frightened brother, in his hand laid down 
 The costly treasure, cased in burnished gold. 
 With clasp secured, in which a pearl was set 
 Of price unreckoned : yet as oft doth change 
 The object of a dream, transforming slow. 
 The wond^-ous gem a crimson drop became — 
 The Volume^s seal ! from fear to fixed amaze 
 Grew too his thoughts who held the curious prize, 
 And sought to open, but the hand that gave 
 Restrained the effort, and slow bending o^er, 
 A breath more soft than events passing sigh 
 The Briglit One breathed, when quick it open flew. 
 
14 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 And, to a thousand atoms shaken thus, 
 The crimson drop fell inward and bedewed 
 Its every page, which rich inspersion gave 
 The whole unearthly lustre strange to view. 
 
 Unwise methought for ignorance stood dumb ; 
 Not Peace the same ; with heavenly wisdom wise, 
 Clapping her little hands she straight began 
 A song of Heaven to sing : it could not be 
 Of Earth, for echoes, faint among the skies, 
 Were heard, which soon in wilder song burst forth. 
 Then angels robed in white passed overhead, 
 And floating downwards joined their anthems all. 
 Whilst hers grew less distinct, and far away 
 Died as the music of a dream at dawn ! 
 Oh, gentle Peace ! " her watching brother cried. 
 Why hast thou ceased with voice, so welcome e'er. 
 Of fond affection, aught to me to tell ? 
 Midst all this glory now forget'st thou quite 
 
 (( 
 
 (C 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 15 
 
 I love thee still ? Reach, reach thine hand to me : '' 
 
 But He who held the precious burden gave 
 
 That loved one into angel arms, spread soft 
 
 To waft her upward to the longed-for hills, 
 
 E^en now less earthly than all pure as they. 
 
 From off her face those floating locks of gold 
 
 Fell shining back ; and once again she smiled. 
 
 Whispering faintly as on high they rose, 
 
 " Follow, dear brother, this bright road — Farewell ! " 
 
 Then o^er the open page his tears fell fast. 
 
 And hurried sobs through that fair garden hushed 
 
 The usual mirth, and made it solemn all. 
 
 He wept for her who might not ask him more 
 
 Beside his sister there content to roam, 
 
 A\Tio loved it best and all its prospects fair. 
 
 " Now," he exclaimed, " I would at once away ! 
 
 Each flower her hand has touched has lost its bloom ; 
 
 And all the streams run mournful] v, for ne^er 
 
 Her merry laugh shall join their echoes more ! " 
 
16 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Thus he bewailed ; and not rebuked or stilled 
 
 That outburst vehement by word or gaze 
 
 Of Him beside his bending form who stood ; 
 
 For, bright beheld beneath that drooping lid, 
 
 A tear did rest, which in a while ran down 
 
 His radiant cheek and on a blighted rose 
 
 Shed its rich moisture, till it bloomed again ! 
 
 Then turning to the youth he there addressed 
 
 Kind words of comfort, and instruction gave 
 
 To guard the Book, his future guide, for now 
 
 He must his journey to the hills extend 
 
 Through unknown scenes, since here He bid him know. 
 
 Should storms and tempests, of unsparing wrath. 
 
 Far from the setting sun sweep eastward dark, — 
 
 Rude desolate the garden^ s smitten bloom, 
 
 And lay the forest's shrinking shelter bare. 
 
 Methought he said, " In all this labyrinth 
 Of paths, but one with safety canst thou tread ^ 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 17 
 
 Within the pages of thy Guide ^tis called 
 The '^ living way/ and there are all declared — 
 Their names and natures/ and their ending one. 
 Eastward full many a league thou long hast seen 
 Those mountain heights^ where lightsome morning 
 
 first 
 Lay out his basking pinions on the sky. 
 Whence light through all the universe has drawn 
 Its primal essence ; there are mansions there, 
 And to their adamantine city w^alls, 
 Whose streets of gold as glass transparent shine, 
 Are gates of pearl, there rivulets of life 
 Pure from its Prince's throne of sapphire roll 
 In crystal floods, on either verdant side. 
 Unfading foliage rustles sweet response 
 To seraph harps refined, and ever tuned 
 Thro' all the courts of Paradise divine ; 
 Nor sun by day nor moon's pale beam shall smite 
 The pilgrim blest that once can enter there. 
 
 c 
 
18 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 But since for thee for ever too remote 
 
 And inaccessible its rest to gain^ 
 
 From wrath escaping, there is jDlaced between 
 
 A needful shelter, and secure retreat : — 
 
 Diverging unto neither hand, pursue ^ 
 
 The path of vision ; canst thou thither see 
 
 Aught steep ascending, or aloof that soars 
 
 In gradual summit through the riven mist 
 
 Distinct from all V The rising mount I saw 
 
 As thus he spoke : its base was stable rock, 
 
 Round which below full many a rudely torn 
 
 And straggling shrub, and many a barkless tree, 
 
 Betrayed the wreck that former storms had wrought ; 
 
 But on the rock and up its bright ascent 
 
 No scar appeared, or other boding sign. 
 
 O'er all suffused, the selfsame vapour hung 
 
 That ever there had disappointed all 
 
 My wishful gaze, for on its crest within 
 
 Shone grassy greenness and enticing bloom. 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 19 
 
 " There," said the Bright one, " stedfast now thy gaze 
 
 Fix, as thy hfe is dear ! — I go to hft 
 
 The cloud that always must conceal that spot 
 
 And Heaven's high-road without me ; wait and see/^ 
 
 He ceased, and on my startled trance came down 
 
 A heavy darkness, wide revolving o'er 
 
 All buried prospect, save one space illumed, 
 
 Whence rose a sound as, swifter than their flow, 
 
 O'er many waters floats ; for, round His form, 
 
 In columns thick rolled back the ponderous mass. 
 
 And, centre of his self-born glory. He 
 
 Alone was seen. Not all that lost beside, 
 
 So dimly vanished, brought regret whilst He, 
 
 The only fairest, fixed my wand' ring eye ; 
 
 But o'er himself the fearful veil at last 
 
 Condensed he drew ! then gloomy sounds arose ; 
 
 All nature groaned, and seemed to sit in chains 
 
 Thro' all the universe that rattling hung, — 
 
 A doleful prison ; every pebbly stream 
 
20 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 And wailing forest answering, wept unseen ; 
 Could this be tliat my earliest wonder woke 
 With sweet surprise, now more to be compared 
 To realms of fallen spirits and despair ? 
 
 " Oh, death itself/^ I heard a voice beneath 
 Stifled exclaim, " Oh, death itself than this 
 Were far more welcome ! why hast thou. 
 Most glorious Being, thus withdrawn thy smile 
 From all around me, and resigned to woe 
 Spirit and nature ? ^^ While he spake the same. 
 O'er nature wide a glimmering faintly fell. 
 For, far suspended in the midway air, 
 A sudden globe of meteor-glory burst. 
 To a wide halo formed, wild wonders round ! 
 Creation trembled, and, the death-like pause. 
 Sublime succeeding, from the verge of heaven 
 Came waves of music rolling thro' the world 
 Of choirs celestial ; what a scene was there ! 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 21 
 
 A man of sorrows^ pale and wan with woe 
 
 And piteous anguish ! on a cross He hung, 
 
 With tight-bound thorns His bleeding temples torn, 
 
 Hung on His bosom cold, in bitter death ! 
 
 All, all alone ! Ah, wherefore sound ye, sweet 
 
 Ethereal harpers ? why, so late in tears. 
 
 Unfeeling nature, art thou silent now ? 
 
 Was sorrow, e^er like His deep sorrow seen. 
 
 Whom Heaven hath sore afflicted ? yet thou tun'st, 
 
 Seraph of light, some wondrous tale of love 
 
 Wiser than mortal, thus thy strains unknown 
 
 Flow from the confines of the heavenly world. 
 
 Prostrate in teiTor lay Unwdse below. 
 
 Yet prostrate tearless, and in dumb dismay ; 
 
 When sudden all this mystic vision changed ; — 
 
 A silvery cloud broke o'er the Crucified, 
 
 And, floating thin in flexuous folds away. 
 
 The cross stood bare, and, leaning on its side, 
 
 Fair majesty serene ! the crown He wore 
 
22 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 From brier to myrtle grown of living bloom : 
 Each hill broke forth in singing, and the trees 
 Clapped all their hands, and nature smiled again 
 To see her King from victory restored ! 
 
 j " What meaneth this ?^^ I asked ; ^' and who is He 
 So sad, so beautiful, with garments dyed. 
 Alone who stands, and wears the myrtle crown ? " 
 Up to the skies His pierced hand He raised, 
 
 I And all the distance God-like echoes bore : — 
 
 , " Weary and heavy laden, come to me 
 And I will give you rest ! come, ye who thirst. 
 These waters drink and never thirst again ! 
 
 ' No money and no price, oh hungry soul. 
 To buy the bread of life my blood has bought, 
 Is needful here ; and that alone shall bid 
 Thee fear to touch the heavenly feast divine ! 
 And come, thou pilgrim, with no strength, to find 
 Hell weak and Satan powerless to assail 
 Thee, mighty, here, and safe from every storm ! '' 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 23 
 
 Then methought the bright One, soaring swiftly, 
 
 Swept through the fields of space and left revealed 
 
 A pathway clear beneath the sheltering cross, — 
 
 High o'er the darksome valley to the hills, — 
 
 And bright it shone as his white garments spread. 
 
 Fused in the sunshine of the eastern skies. 
 
 And lost in hght unshadowed far beyond. 
 
 Now did I mark the footsteps so upheld. 
 
 To glorious purpose, as vipon his way 
 
 Unwise, o'er hill and vale, and often hid 
 
 In tangled wood, went on, till far behind 
 
 The garden lay, and seemed the cross more near ; 
 
 Often at first in quiet shade he'd sit, 
 
 And search the pages of his guide awhile. 
 
 Then thus invigorate his path pursue ; 
 
 But seldom later, weary and depressed 
 
 With toil fatiguing, though, the less he sought 
 
 For strengthening there, the tardier he sped. 
 
 Close to the living way where first aside 
 
24 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 It outward branched^ I now a path beheld 
 
 Of deadly snare, for all its worst deceit 
 
 Was subtle Error to display as truth 
 
 And all beside the Book's clear page confuse ; 
 
 It passed a desert space beneath the rock, 
 
 And lures in fatal treachery so far 
 
 The expectant heart to refuge it disdains : — 
 
 (So, terrible beneath the placid deep, 
 
 To gentle undulation sparkling moved. 
 
 Lie couched the barbed rocks : all favoring sweep 
 
 The guiltless winds, and swell the spheric sails ; 
 
 Proud glides the gallant ship, and hearts of joy, 
 
 With thousand different pulsations wild, 
 
 Respond the music of the murmuring sea ; — 
 
 But hark ! what horror of confused ciy 
 
 Bursts from the smitten planks, and with the crash 
 
 Of severed mast, across the pathless main. 
 
 Reverberates to the startled skies of noon !) 
 
 As cruel path, as prone to dreadful end, 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 25 
 
 And woe inevitable, this I saw ; 
 
 And saw witli pain tlie youthful pilgrim haste, 
 
 Therein unconscious, and his guide unsought ! 
 
 Peace, happy Peace ! thou didst not bid him there 
 
 Thy angel journey follow, with the last 
 
 Voice of affection in the garden breathed. 
 
 And fond farewell, nor, brighter vision, thou 
 
 Bid haste from danger to the cross secure. 
 
 So dearly purchased ! and are all forgot ? 
 
 Here many arbours of enticing show 
 
 Were round disposed with care in tempting shade. 
 
 By all a glassy rill went sparkling clear. 
 
 Filling with music low the tuneful groves, — 
 
 Delusive brook ! the waters of whose flow 
 
 Supplied a course perverted from the bed 
 
 Of one which ran the straighter road along ; 
 
 Steps to the cross, and, midway shelter, called. 
 
 Were all these bowers, poor screen from tempest bleak 
 
 Or cutting torrents, when the floods descend. 
 
26 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 And rivers swell, and madness there to rest 
 Beholding life's eternal refuge nigh. 
 As wore the noonday stealingly along, 
 Unwise would gaze, at times, where far behind 
 His loved companion wandered at his side. 
 And wish 'twere morn again, thrice happy morn ! 
 And then would doubtful grow as much his wont. 
 
 Across his path, when many a weary mile 
 Erroneous wandered, stretched an opening glade. 
 His heart reviving : for no future now 
 Distressed or troubled as his present toil : — 
 About exhausted to recline him there. 
 First one coiled serpent startled, then would move 
 The yellow grass in live commotion all. 
 And, backward springing, scarce their darts he 'scaped 
 Whose eyes flashed venom fixed from every tuft 
 And grassy mound, on him approaching there ! 
 Then terror seized him and he gazed around ; 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 27 
 
 His way-worn limbs and burning temples bid 
 Him onward look if nigh the cross lie stood^ 
 But dim was that from this unhallowM elade. 
 And as to unclose the Book his trembling hand 
 Sought for its clasp, it weaker shook and failed, 
 Nor could his eyes find aught whereon to rest, 
 Unto those gliding serpents in his path 
 By fascination eveiy moment drawn : 
 Now here I marked that he, who to destroy. 
 Had planned this deadly path in days of yore. 
 Lest one so far enticed, at this dread spot. 
 Might seek his guide discouraged, had disposed 
 On either hand a snare ; two spacious bowers ; — 
 One thickly intei-twiued and large within. 
 Dispelled the hght of heaven, and on the cross 
 Turned its dense back ; a cold and subtle den 
 Of present death and future, stored full well 
 With poisonous weeds and opiate drugs to seal 
 The sense in slumber : this is named the bowxr 
 
28 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Of Unbelief; the other decked, profuse 
 
 Of various flowers, told of pleasure wide, — 
 
 Of universal bliss, — a mockery 
 
 Of all around it and its votaries joy ; 
 
 This did Unwise with frowning brow disdain. 
 
 And to the far-off East uplift his eyes. 
 
 But dull and heavy clouds rolled thick between 
 
 The once warm brilliance of those realms and him. 
 
 And downward sweeping veiled the glorious cross ; 
 
 Nor East nor West was sight to cheer his gaze — 
 
 A wilful wanderer ! — on high the sun 
 
 Fierce blazing downward, deep he heaved a sigh. 
 
 Then ^neath his feet laid down the Book, and passed. 
 
 With resolution dark and lip compressed. 
 
 The threshold of that bower, to death so dear. 
 
 Called Unbelief — the portals of the tomb ; 
 
 And there I watched him wearily reclined. 
 
 Ere long in sleep fast bound, anon beheld 
 
 The fearful gestures of his evil dreams, 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 29 
 
 And all the proofs of that fell restlessness 
 
 Man cannot kill by sKimber. What the frame 
 
 Of clay, to bind the giant power within, 
 
 Big with immoi'tal knowledge, when it raves 
 
 Untiring there ? its tyranny alone. 
 
 The mortal being^s sure destruction pi'oves. 
 
 He slept ! he slept ! and to the West drew on 
 
 The weai*ying day ; nor did he see or fear 
 
 The peril that his troubled spirit saw. 
 
 And strove with supernatural power to him 
 
 Thus to communicate. '^ Unhappy one ! 
 
 When shalt thou wake ?'^ I cried, "Oh, when arise? 
 
 Ere night comes on ? ere, hurried to the vale. 
 
 Its raging torrents loud before thee foam. 
 
 And thou, in wild tumultuous tempest lost. 
 
 Must onward go ?^^ He slept ! yes, still he slept ! 
 # # ^ # # 
 
 Sleep has no balm, no downiest pillow is 
 Soft, for the fevered brow, whose achmg throb 
 
30 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Would lose in sleep its madness : when the frame 
 
 Reposes, then the spirit does not rest 
 
 More than, when dust commingles with its dust, 
 
 The soul to ashes turns ; continued life 
 
 Have both, or that continual state of woe 
 
 Inflicting torment on the body, toil 
 
 Interminable ; and what then is that ? 
 
 Can it a life be named, albeit it has 
 
 Cessation of existence none, which death is called, 
 
 Yet void of all that to the name of life 
 
 Adds good ? it is that state of life far worse 
 
 Than death itself, whose victim may be said. 
 
 For ever in the bitterest pangs of death 
 
 Chained fast, thus ever dying, never dead ! 
 
 Sleep has no balm for him, to sleep, who flies 
 
 From horrors which increase around the while. 
 
 To which he soon must wake, and whose first thought 
 
 Must, waking, be of them, and earliest sense, 
 
 That of their presence and unblest demands. 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 31 
 
 No crimson streak of morn upon his couch. 
 
 Or heated pillow, when Unwise awoke. 
 
 Its cooling brightness threw ; but haggard, wild, 
 
 I saw him rise, come forth, and gaze around ; — 
 
 No sparkling river there, no flowers of bloom, 
 
 No mossy banks, or heavenly hills afar, 
 
 In distance beautiful, he saw ; and ah ! 
 
 No Book of shining page, no shelt^'ing cross ! 
 
 In the black West I saw the sun appear, 
 
 Half falFn beneath the wailing, wide, green sea ; 
 
 Still fiercely scowling on the clouds that sought 
 
 Too soon to quench him : lower now he sinks, 
 
 And dark they brood in counsel for a storm. 
 
 With shaggy brows overhung, in dark embrace 
 
 Of boding whispers chill ; and then no more 
 
 I saw the sun ; a sickly light the sky 
 
 Gave forth, for suddenly the AYest had seized 
 
 One latent torch, and winged it as a shaft : 
 
 Swaft from its livid root aloft it sprang. 
 
\ 
 
 32 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 And, darting devious through the ambient gloom, 
 Lit all the aerial elements perplexed 
 With flaming fury, and to Heaven^s heart 
 White ^neath his sable garments rent in twain, 
 Relentless quivered : then the wounded sky, 
 Shaken with strong and loud convulsions groaned, 
 From pole to pole, and on the stricken head 
 Of him overtaken shed its drops of blood. 
 Heavy and frequent ; he, in fearful flight. 
 Ran here and there unconscious, and his face 
 Hid from the revelry of nature wild. 
 
 Much dreaded I the valley of the flood 
 Would soon receive him then ; when through the glare 
 Of tempest on his path, a roll I saw 
 Coiled nigh the brink of a capacious pit. 
 At hand wide-gaping, down whose sides at times 
 From ledge to ledge fell forks of lightning red, 
 Each chasm lighting : here he stooped, to see 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 33 
 
 If that were some stray leaf by whirlwind driven 
 From his lost guide^ and read with pallid fear 
 Its name Despair, and horrid counsel given, — 
 Deep in those caverns shelter to procure ! 
 The clouds were cleft ; a gust caught up the roll. 
 And flung it fiercely in his streaming face. 
 Damp with the chilly gore of murdered time 1 
 Yet, at that direful moment, did he gain 
 Strength this to spurn, and as the severed worm^ 
 By its own writhings shrinks from danger^s way. 
 Crawled from the dungeon^s opening brink in pain. 
 Then, powerless stretched, his bitter tones recalled 
 The rising morn and all, that fair and good. 
 He foolishly despised, and slept away ; 
 Then blamed his folly and transgressions all, 
 And wept aloud. Now, as he wept, it seemed 
 That the destroying angel had refrained 
 To add his voice to that of some blest choir 
 Whose hallelujah swelled above the storm ! 
 
 D 
 
34 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Again loud peals of heavy thunder rolled^ 
 
 Drowning its harmony; but sudden flew 
 
 A vivid flash along the East^ — lit up 
 
 A distant rock, and for an instant there 
 
 The Cross displayed ! bright on its grassy height, 
 
 Untouched and fair ; then all grew dark again. 
 
 New life into the frame of him laid low 
 
 Appeared to burst : — " Oh, if/^ he earnest cried — 
 
 " If that might yet be gained ! Oh, Thou so bright ! 
 
 Where now the guide Thou gavest me, or how 
 
 Thither to fly, I know not ; all I know 
 
 Is misery extreme; here — even here 
 
 Once more to me, for mad presumption false 
 
 So justly stricken, that best Book reveal t'^ 
 
 On which I did behold a wondrous light 
 
 Come sailing through the far, far skies along; — 
 
 A Dove, whose silvery wings shed soft around. 
 
 Its path of flight, a glow as that which spreads 
 
 Through the thin vapour driven on starry night 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 35 
 
 Across tlie full moon's face^ which, from the hills, 
 A shining track had left ; its flight was stayed 
 Overhead, where on the earth the suppliant knelt, — 
 The sodden earth, — and sweet refulgence cast 
 Upon his pale cold brow ; then, gently down, 
 Its pinions stooped, attracting, as it flew. 
 The wanderer on ; entranced, but trembling still. 
 He followed, till, alighting suddenly. 
 Among the pages of his long-lost Book 
 It fluttered, and each letter bathed in light ! 
 What joy was his ! unto his heart he clasped 
 The prize, th' unspoken prize ; then did a voice, 
 On thunder borne, loud bid him " up'' and " on ! " 
 From worst destruction; stumbling oft he flew : — 
 " A^Tiere was his pathway ?" ask you; " had he found 
 The right, the living way ?" Ah ! that bright Dove 
 Did trace it with his pinions bright, and lead 
 Straight on and swiftly : clasping close the Book, 
 That radiant one he followed, faint but firm ; 
 
36 THE VISION Of THE CROSS. 
 
 His feeble strengtli bad failed to bear bim on, 
 But ob ! tbat glorious, glowing sigbt gave power 
 Beyond conception's migbt ! and, nearing now 
 Tbe rising rock, more strong it grew : yet bere — 
 Here too, was danger rife ; on6 moment tben, 
 Sbook tbe fierce skies witb bafSed wratb severe. 
 And sbook the eartb tbat yawned for bim in vain 
 His beart beat loud, bis trembbng band let go 
 Tbe Book ; but, bastily to grasp again 
 Tbe falling treasure, botb were wide outspread : 
 Swift time was sbort ; one leaf alone torn fortb^ 
 Tbat grasp retained, hut of the Cross it spake, 
 Tbus all was well ! upon tbe Rock be sprang, 
 Tbe everlasting Rock ! wben all tbings else 
 Rolled sbattered into cbaos ; safe from tbence 
 Bebeld afar tbe suffering plains, tbe streams 
 Run red to cataracts of woe unknown ; 
 Tbe gaping pit, for ever crying, " Give,'' 
 Gatber creation's broken fragments in, 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 37 
 
 A flaming waste, and smoky columns hurled 
 
 From all its surface to the frowning sky : 
 
 Did he then shudder ? Nay, why does yon tree 
 
 Skyward extend its scorched and naked arms ? 
 
 Why rocks it so on earth's convulsive breast ? 
 
 Does not the giant champion of the storm — 
 
 The veteran tempest, cruelly embrace 
 
 Those time-seared limbs, and with its mother earth 
 
 Drag for the mastery ? the deed is done ; 
 
 And from each wounded pore, the bleeding root 
 
 Is torn ; then to the tyrant useless more 
 
 The whole vast bulk is hurled upon the soil ; 
 
 But not a breath that one bright leaf has stiiTcd, 
 
 Or shaken from the rose's fragrant bloom. 
 
 Which now the penitent delighted plucks. 
 
 One drop of early dew ! as round the cross. 
 
 On which the shining Dove now rested white. 
 
 His arm was flung, and on its golden side, 
 
 His brow was pressed, and tears of joy he shed. 
 
38 THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 
 
 High o^er tlie vale, and beautifying all 
 
 With calm, surpassing beauty, I beheld 
 
 Clouds like the wings of angels, and a form 
 
 Whose fairness robed them all in stainless white. 
 
 Smiling on him below ; as 'twere to say, 
 
 " Some there are here thou knowest ; soon I come ! ^* 
 
 These were the Eastern hills, but not beyond : 
 
 A little step, when rested there awhile. 
 
 He who was lost and found must higher go. 
 
 Now whilst I, thankful for his great escape. 
 Did bless the love which o'er this one had watched, 
 Methought his voice, so late in anguish raised. 
 Or spent in terror's whisper, thus exclaimed : — 
 "^ When thou, sweet Dove, at blush of dawn shalt fly ; 
 When thou shalt upward soar to brighter realms, — 
 Regions where He who made this path for me 
 Hath homes prepared for such as weary are 
 Which Peace, my gentle Peace, has long enjoyed, 
 
THE VISION OF THE CROSS. 39 
 
 Waiting to bid me to its blissful joy 
 
 Glad welcome; — when tbou there shalt soar, sweet 
 
 Dove, 
 Together travelling at that sunny hour, 
 We'll to the hills, — we'll to the heavenly hills/' 
 
 flP Tp It* w 
 
 Filled with the gentlest breathings of delight 
 Sent up from Eden's green, luxurious fields, 
 Did airy float a mist of heavenly birth ; 
 Its essence music, soft and ravishing. 
 Now faint, now near : within it ceaseless roamed 
 Bright forms, whose voices of harmonious love 
 This music was, which as the airs of spring 
 Spread grateful round, in pairs or groups they passed. 
 There strayed a family ; a sister here 
 Beside her brother walked. Now louder burst 
 The ethereal strain, and rapture filled my soul ! 
 Light glorious beamed ! — it was the morning sun. 
 The music ceased — I woke, it was a dream ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
THOUGHTS 
 
 ON 
 
 A NEW-YEAR^S MORNING. 
 
 Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place in all 
 generations." — Ps. xc. 1. 
 
 Arise, my soul ! the burial shroud of night 
 Another year conceals, — for ever gone ! 
 Wake to the call of Hope and purpose new. 
 Wrapt in the rising year, from depths unseen 
 That beckon on, and nerve for every toil. 
 
44 THOUGHTS ON A NEW-YEAR^S MORNING. 
 
 First conscious breath that wakes the still pro- 
 found 
 Of thought un startled, waft to heaven a prayer, 
 On wings of Faith to Time's Creator borne, — 
 And thine immortal ! future inhabitant 
 Of that Eternity His presence fills. 
 
 Now swift as dawn, and as his shooting rays 
 Far multiplied diffuse, do thoughts return 
 Of things which have been, and shall be no more. 
 For good or evil fixed or unfulfilled. 
 Methinks beside an ancient tree I stand ; 
 Wide spread its branches bare, and chill o'erhung 
 Where Thames thro' rural meads his stately flood 
 Rolls on, content to bless these scenes of peace, 
 Nor court the busier crowded haunts of men. 
 Here Friendship and Instruction sweet combined 
 Charms every shade, and sounds in every wave 
 A second music lovelier than its own. 
 
 o^ 
 
THOUGHTS ON A N£W-YEAR^S MORNING. 45 
 
 Part of my being ! not forgetful now 
 
 As once, — too blest, — to sliut these eyes on all — 
 
 This heart on peace — if gratitude most due 
 
 To God and man engrossed not all thy joy. 
 
 Here let me rest beneath this wintry shade. 
 
 As stealing twilight smooths the ruffled tide ; 
 
 Eve should foretell repose, yet no soft rest 
 
 Joyous I hail as all things round me do, 
 
 From troublous turmoil free, and losing self 
 
 With all its wants, in meditative praise. 
 
 Still busy Self distracts the general peace : 
 
 So stands amid the forest^s quivering pines, 
 
 In richest green arrayed, the lifeless tree. 
 
 Blest in no season, as they slow revolve. 
 
 With garment vernal; and whilst far and near, — 
 
 As thro^ theii* midst aerial breathings creep, — 
 
 Each other bough its every leaf employs 
 
 To swell the gentle harmony of all. 
 
 His creaking branches ceaselessly repine. 
 
46 THOUGHTS ON A NEW-YEAR^S MORNING. 
 
 And spread their melanclioly woes abroad. 
 Swift time rolls on, and welcome changes come, 
 Of place and scene, yet never strange or new, 
 Since there the truant eye, with reason fond. 
 Of watchful mem'ry dwelt when morn and eve, 
 With light and shadow marked the gliding days. 
 Oh Hills endearM ! Ye vales of Cambria, hail ! 
 ^Twere hard without applause to gaze on thee, 
 Trembling to meet the earliest glance of spring, 
 His tenderest voice, and with a blush be won ! 
 There silv'ry Usk, by many a dear retreat 
 Of humming shade, reluctant holds his way ; 
 Or listens charmed, in some grove-darkened dell. 
 To lone Seclusion^s sigh, where willows weep ; 
 Oh, favoured stream ! the music of thy flow 
 Is soft as recollection born of thee ; 
 As varied all — as full of lingering love 
 Low whispering to the woods its fairy tale ; 
 For oft thy murmurs melancholy fall, 
 
THOUGHTS ON A NEW-YEAR^S MORNING. 47 
 
 When through the deepening twilight, plaintive 
 
 sounds 
 The ringdove's coo from out his hushed retreat, 
 Or night surrounds the neighboring hills with gloom. 
 Hand of the Past ! now lead me soft again, 
 Where once I sat at moonlit hour alone ; — 
 The place of many graves : few deem when there 
 Of higher worth the pleasures of an hour. 
 Than Duty's glorious, best, divine reward ! 
 A solemn sight ! scarce half one straggling ray 
 Can gild the cold dark side of any grave. 
 So close they throng ! but on th' engraven stone. 
 Falls broad and pale, to teach the grief of some, 
 The hope of others, and the end of all : 
 Nay — not the end on earthly mould inscribed, 
 Or written there or read, — its type alone; 
 He who of old on Patmos' isle was cast. 
 Saw where 'twas writ, and heard its wonders read 
 By Majesty Most High, as shall be done, 
 
48 THOUGHTS ON A NEW-YEAR^S MORNING. 
 
 Whilst Heaven and Earth and Hell, with all they hold. 
 
 Silent attend thro^ all the vast of space. 
 
 Now spread the sails — my native land, adieu ! 
 
 What infant song, what feeble accents thee 
 
 Shall speak beloved, and wing the thoughts they 
 
 would ? 
 Faint falls the light on Albion's mist-clad cliffs, 
 Where, far and faint along the winding strand. 
 Low-glimmering lights soft smile a sweet farewell, — 
 And all around is revelry and sea ! — 
 How blest is he who, being born to die. 
 Is "born again'' to live when death is past. 
 Immortal conqueror of mortal ills ! 
 His the possession of unshaken peace. 
 Seal of its truth, and Life's eternal spring ; 
 His the kind solace of a Father's care 
 From parent far, an elder brother's aid 
 And counsel wise, when, wandering long, he dreams 
 Of Home forsaken, or at times recalls 
 
THOUGHTS ON A NEW-YEA R^S MORNING. 49 
 
 A brother's voice^ or sister's sunny smile ; 
 
 And more the living comforts of his soul, 
 
 His sense of being and enduring changed, 
 
 Bright treasures incorruptible above, 
 
 Sure as the throne of Heaven ; for oft when there 
 
 His hands he lifts and " Abba, Father,'' cries. 
 
 Through all creation seems a voice to say, 
 
 " Son, ever with me, all I have is thine ! " 
 
 But twdlight gathers now, and near the vale 
 
 Of Death's cold shade, where all his trust's assailed, 
 
 Struck with the bolts of Hell, but not dismayed 
 
 In utter ruin or tumultuous flight : 
 
 Still on the Christian goes, the '^ rod and staff" 
 
 Him solace there, his Saviour's arm sustains ! 
 
 Perchance some steadfast pilgrim, strong in faith, 
 
 Deems e'en the taste of Jordan's water sweet. 
 
 As soft its music lulls him to repose ! 
 
 The flood rolls by : upon the blissful brink, 
 
 Bereft of sin, bereft of self, he stands : 
 
 E 
 
50 THOUGHTS ON A NEW-YEAR's MORNING. 
 
 On either side one shining seraph waits ; 
 
 Each^ silent, meditates on Love divine, 
 
 Or courts his first acclaims of pure delight, 
 
 With hints celestial or with harps of love. 
 
 Now to the gates of pearl upborne they rise. 
 
 And raptures inconceivable within. 
 
 On Zion^s hill and round the throne prepared : — 
 
 Such was sweet matter of rejoicing thought 
 
 At noon or silent eve, or when the lull 
 
 Of heavy night mute listened to the waves 
 
 Roll dirge-like round, and melancholy moan 
 
 " Deep unto deep ; ^^ then oftentimes would come 
 
 One who would whisper '^ It is I ! '^ — 'twas He 
 
 At midnight on the darksome billows walked 
 
 Of Galilee^s rough tide ; blest messenger 
 
 Of peace as then, whom "winds and seas obey :'' 
 
 Perchance at intervals a sound would rise 
 
 Of hearty praise unburdened, or of prayer. 
 
 Anxious as that, on Peniel's plain, which craved 
 
THOUGHTS ON A NEW-YEAR's MORNING. 51 
 
 At dawn a benediction, — Israel's plea. 
 Adieu, ye days of endless life the spring ! 
 Long shall I think of thee, both when I roam 
 Far in the strangers' land, or home I love ; 
 Why not when in that blest abiding Home 
 ^'Not made with hands, eternal in the sky ?" 
 
52 
 
 SYMPATHY. 
 
 AN ODE. 
 
 Clear Harp, whose nightly murmurs spread 
 
 Melodious through the sacred shade, 
 Where pensive Sorrow oft has shed 
 
 Fast tears, to none beside betrayed ; 
 If Nature knows thy soothing call. 
 
 And answers to th' Eolian sweep, — 
 Why not those strains as sweetly fall 
 On mortal bosom, and bid all 
 
 Its warm affections weep ? 
 
SYMPATHY. 53 
 
 Oh gifts of Earthj from chaos rude 
 
 Uplifted by th' EtemaPs hand !— 
 Oh Earth, of chaos formed, how good — 
 
 How great — how beautiful ye stand ! 
 How each on each serenely smile ! 
 
 How tune the universal song, 
 That peals thro^ Nature's temple aisle 
 One-voiced, till on her funeral pile 
 
 Falls voiceless every tongue ! 
 
 Oh thou, for whom their fairest all 
 
 Smiles sweetest, wakes the heavenliest lay, 
 How dark the treachery of that fall 
 
 Which made thee cease to love as they ! 
 His due Hosannas cease to raise. 
 
 High seated on the Eternal throne 
 Of unreached glory, and, with praise. 
 To share, thro^ all thine earthly days. 
 
 His spotless gifts, as one. 
 
54 SYMPATHY. 
 
 Inspire my lay, soul of Love ! 
 
 From fallen man to brother given : 
 Essence of Him who sways above 
 
 The sceptre of adoring Heaven ! 
 Once pure thro' all this world of old, 
 
 When far Euphrates' banks, and rare 
 Havilah, round whose soil of gold 
 Encircling Pison proudly rolled, 
 
 Stretched under Eden fair ; — 
 
 And stainless 'neath th' approving smile 
 
 Which sealed the word that spake them good ; 
 Ere harboured they the serpent's wile. 
 
 Or brother spilt a brother's blood. — 
 Hence, theme unblest ! — thee, valleys sweet — 
 
 Rocks, rising hills and buzzing groves, 
 I sing, by sin's still doubting feet 
 Unbrushed, unstartled by the greet 
 
 Of any voice but Love's. 
 
SYMPATHY. 55 
 
 On Earth's fair face no fallen tree 
 
 Has torn the forest's turfy floor ; 
 No shipwreck o'er the spacious sea 
 
 Is scattered to the sounding shore. 
 Ah ! beauteous form, — whate'er thou be, — 
 
 Glad animate with heavenly breath. 
 Thro' all thy radiant frame, to thee 
 Death's but a name — thou ne'er didst see 
 
 The pale, cold form of Death ! 
 
 Thou hast not felt the rankling dart 
 
 That cleft in twain the cord it left ; 
 That empty hollowness of heart 
 
 Of all it loved, by time bereft, 
 But, vocal with the general Spring, 
 
 Dost lift the obedient anthem high 
 At Phoebus' earliest sign, nor fling 
 The lyre away, when twilight's wing 
 
 Is waved across the sky. 
 
56 SYMPATHY. 
 
 Responsive liai-p, be joy thy theme, 
 
 O^er-pass the ages of the past, 
 And all that gloomy troubled dream 
 
 From which a world is waked at last. 
 From Life to Life, o^er Death's loud flood, 
 
 A bridge suspend ; — from Eden high 
 Where Eve, ere yet the fatal food 
 She tasted, Hope's fair emblem stood. 
 
 To night-veiFd Calvary. 
 
 There may the weeping wonderer hear 
 
 Of blissful Paradise regained ; 
 First Eden's sentence dark and drear 
 
 Made portal to a better land. 
 " Remember me, my dying Lord," 
 
 Is all the suff'ring sinner's prayer, 
 " When to thy kingdom fair restored ; " — 
 ^'To-day" — Immanuel's gladdening word- 
 
 " Shalt thou be with me there ! " 
 
SYMPATHY. 57 
 
 Hail, voices blest of Him who gave 
 
 Example holiest, purest, best ; 
 Low mm'muring o^er a kinsman^s grave, 
 
 To give some aching spirit rest ; 
 There breathes thy spell as that whose strain 
 
 First sought the hills of Salem nigh, 
 " Thy brother ^^ — friend — " shall rise again '/' 
 It soothes of every heart the pain 
 
 As hers of Bethany. 
 
 He too has wept; — for whom ? — Behold, 
 
 Sad eye by sore affliction proved, 
 (Not all as did the Jews of old,) 
 
 The lonely weepers how He loved ! 
 He loved thy lost one, and hath led 
 
 His soul where flowers unfading grow ; 
 He loves the mourners, and hath said 
 How precious are the tears they shed, 
 
 By His own sacred woe. 
 
58 SYMPATHY. 
 
 'Tis love unselfish that must bind 
 
 The bleeding wound, and soothe its pain, 
 And the same bond, in grief entwined 
 
 Can make two hearts no longer twain ; 
 Oh, who can tell with careless voice 
 
 What the first thrill of pleasure deep, 
 Approving his determined choice 
 ''To joy with them that do rejoice, 
 
 And weep with them that weep ! " 
 
 They will be rich who now are poor, 
 
 And those be comforted who mourn ; 
 As Lazarus to the rich man^s door, 
 
 To beg the uneaten morsels, borne. 
 And if no other cause compel, 
 
 'Twere well their woes on earth to share. 
 With them in equal bliss to dwell 
 In heaven^s courts, nor see from hell 
 
 Their envied pleasures there. 
 
SYMPATHY. 59 
 
 In fair prosperity of heart 
 
 Be't ours to soothe ungentle care; 
 Those blessings which the blest impart 
 
 Their tasted virtues with them bear. 
 Oft as a sigh from desert drear, 
 
 When like distresses lurk within. 
 
 That voice, which meant to soothe and cheer, 
 
 Low falters with a trickling tear 
 
 Of things which might have been ; — 
 
 And shall the bubble, lifted high 
 
 Where mountain billows awful form, 
 Ask wherefore ocean swells ? or why 
 
 The rending heavens are racked with storm ? 
 Or ocean's self less mighty, found 
 
 Upon the universal sea 
 Of ordered things, whose only bound 
 The Wisdom that enclasps them round. 
 
 Ask, why should these things be ? 
 
60 SYMPATHY. 
 
 This from all finite knowledge shields 
 
 Too great conceptions for the soul. 
 As through all time those icy fields 
 
 That gather lasting round the pole ; 
 Once entered there, canst thou retain 
 
 An only life, to breathe alone ? 
 And shall thy mental vision vain 
 E'er overreach, one step to gain 
 
 In that untraversed zone ? 
 
 Thus joy should still untiring seek 
 
 For sorrow, half its gifts to share ; 
 The fickle dealings of a week 
 
 May cloud its smiles with cruel care. 
 Be't that the mourner never rise 
 
 To kiss the hand that eased his pain ; 
 The smile that lights his closing eyes 
 Shall be a sevenfold costUer prize 
 
 Than all the worldling's gain ! 
 
 ^^ ^^ %1^ ^^ ^M 
 
 *^ ^P ^g* ^* 0^ 
 
SYMPATHY. 61 
 
 Borne back through vanished ages long, 
 
 Ai'ound my path like spectres rise 
 The states and battlements of song, 
 
 Theii* orators and warriors wise. 
 Pale Luna^s beams at distance fall 
 
 O^er many a vestige, dimly cast, 
 Of crumbling column, giant wall^ 
 That speaks in hollow accents all 
 
 The Carthage of the past. 
 
 These all are lost, his form to see 
 
 Who sits a stony figure there ; 
 Content in solitude to be 
 
 Where it were second life to share ; — 
 To share disgrace that both might gain 
 
 New glory, could her fallen throne 
 Stir all his heart to feel a pain 
 For others^ sorrows prostrate lain, 
 
 Not wholly for his own. 
 
62 SYMPATHY. 
 
 There might the exiled Roman find 
 
 The memory of departed days 
 Fall lightly on the monarch mind, 
 
 That rules the ruin it surveys. 
 There from its tombs and ashes great. 
 
 Beneath the solemn midnight moon, 
 A prouder Carthage might create. 
 And, leaving thought of former state. 
 
 With Hannibal commune ! 
 
 But ruined Self compelled thee lone, — 
 
 Ambition^s and thy rivaFs toy, — 
 Where every spectacle makes known 
 
 How man may man^s best work destroy. 
 Yea, ruined Self; now see thee led 
 
 In fiercer power to Rome again : 
 Hear, hear the wailing o'er the dead ; 
 The streets with human gore are red. 
 
 The houses filled with slain. 
 
SYMPATHY. 63 
 
 *Tis thus th^ unhumbled despot feels 
 
 His people^s wants — his country's need ; 
 And thus in costly sheath conceals 
 
 The sword that makes that country bleed. 
 Such deeds are his whose heart had been 
 
 Best pleased its like distress to find ; — 
 A towerless base whereon to lean, — 
 Where every trace was fittest seen 
 
 Some ruin of the mind. 
 
 More noble he who, deeming woe 
 
 Hung o'er Athenians spotless fame, 
 Brought counsel to his bitterest foe, — 
 
 Death daring; well "the Just" his name : 
 And Salamis, with his, thy name, 
 
 Unmixed with guile, through time shall be 
 The secret traitor's open shame. 
 The record of sublimest fame, 
 
 The spell of Sympathy. 
 
64 SYMPATHY. 
 
 Love — love thy friend; but also "love 
 
 Thine enemy/^ — Divine command ! 
 Where'er thou dwellest or dost rove ; 
 
 Thy neighbour, or thy native land. 
 So their prosperity shall thrill 
 
 Untasted pleasures thro' thy soul ; 
 And still unaltering — loving still — 
 Ye'U have at length one joy, one will, 
 
 And share one glorious whole ! 
 
 Oh pardon. Thou ! whose heavenly tone 
 
 Doth teach me, while I weary roam 
 Beneath, I cannot pass alone 
 
 Along the waves that waft me home : 
 Still pardon that which is not Thine, 
 
 And perfect that which is begun ; 
 Let Thy blest will alone be mine. 
 And all I do — intend — design — 
 
 Be to Thy glory done ! 
 
si:mpathy. 65 
 
 The tilings of Time and Sense appear 
 
 In truest light, severe or kind ; 
 That nothing earthly steal the care 
 
 Intended for the immortal mind. 
 Nor folly, I had counted wise. 
 
 For Earth, if all its gifts it gave, 
 Ere barter Life ; Time's goodliest prize 
 Must soon rest, hidden from these eyes. 
 
 Above the covered grave. 
 
 To Th)^ great name my thankful voice 
 
 It loudest anthems still shall raise; 
 Nor lonely sorrow, or rejoice, 
 
 Nor lonely pray, nor lonely praise. 
 And Thou, who knowest all the ways 
 
 Of those whose hearts are sorely riven. 
 Teach them all earthly bUss decays. 
 And be thro' everlasting days 
 
 Their bright and tearless heaven ! 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 A REVERIE. 
 
 They loved — but sorrow clouded o^er 
 The early sunshine of their love ; 
 
 And altered hopes, and trouble sore_, 
 
 Shattered what Time could ne^er remove ; 
 
 They changed the bright endearing smile, 
 Which he, who oft had seen it, deemed 
 
 That strange and fascinating wile 
 
 Which shaped his fancies while he dreamed. 
 
 Tears followed smiles (how oft they do, — 
 All know it ; none pronounce it strange ; 
 
 Yet, knowing it, alas how few 
 Rejoice, anticipating change !) 
 
A REVERIE. 67 
 
 Reality is stern when past, 
 
 And robbed of all that made it fair ; 
 A frowning outline, cold and vast — 
 
 An empty void alone is there. s 
 
 They loved, — the tears they often shed 
 Were tears of joy, yet still were tears ; 
 
 And as they fell it seemed they said, — 
 " Earth's joys are only joyous fears.'' 
 
 Strange sorrow -joy — to hope and feel 
 A something bright may be in store, 
 
 AATiich months and even days may steal. 
 And leave all gloomier than before. 
 
 They loved, — but tempests rose and chased 
 The beams from love's affrighted sky ; 
 
 Yet earth alone these storms defaced — 
 It all grew bright, at last, on his:h. 
 
68 A REVEKIE. 
 
 They saw tlie fields, wliicli late outspread 
 So beauteous, desolate and bare ; 
 
 They wept above the rose^s bed, 
 
 Por half-blown buds hung blighted there. 
 
 They saw the home, — Ah ! all to tell 
 
 Were sad as that forgotten scene. 
 Or echoes of the last farewell, 
 
 L- 
 
 With broken voice, and sobs between, — 
 
 " 'Twas only earth those storms defaced, 
 It all at last grew bright on high,^^ 
 
 And from the dark and dismal waste 
 Upturned to heaven the tearful eye. 
 
 They loved; — forget the sad, sad tale 
 Which clouded o'er their early love ; 
 
 O'er blighted prospects draw the veil 
 'Twixt thee and heaven, and look above. 
 
A REVERIE. 69 
 
 There is a land — a fair, fair land — 
 From change and sorrow far removed, 
 
 Where still they wander hand in hand, 
 And angels whisper still " they loved ! " 
 
70 
 
 THE YEW-TREE'S SHADE. 
 
 " Beneath those rugged ehns, that Yew-tree's sliacle." 
 
 Gray's Elegy. 
 
 In Memoriam. 
 
 Domains of Silence ! here^ in deep repose, 
 Lie hushed the ills, th' inconstancies of Time ; 
 Nor strife, to strew the daily path with woes, 
 Can haunt the footsteps as they heav'nward climb : 
 Here has Bereavement long-enduring knelt, 
 Returned to see the roses bloom and fade, 
 Here watched the winter's dreary mantle melt. 
 And grass grow green, beneath the Yew-tree's shade. 
 
THE yew-tree's SHADE. 71 
 
 Chill o'er the turf hangs many a drooping bough, 
 With kindly care, its soft and solemn cloud ; 
 As many mourners darken Death's cold brow, 
 And shield the pallid bareness of his shroud, — 
 A dark-green canopy, — and far beneath 
 Floats on the music of a light cascade, 
 No more to rapture with melodious breath 
 Their hearts who slumber 'neath the Yew-tree's 
 shade : 
 
 Nor ever may the song terrestrial move. 
 Or gaudy glitter of a world of show. 
 Where sound the ecstasies of heavenly love. 
 Where crystal floods thro' fields celestial flow. 
 No sad complaint may pass the gate of peace. 
 Where, loosed at length, life's heavy load is laid : 
 Thus far they come, — and here for ever cease, — 
 All pain and labour, 'neath the Yew-tree's shade. 
 
72 THE YEW-TREE^S SHADE. 
 
 There is a tomb where waves the wild flower free, 
 And fragrant blooms, beside a marble stone, 
 Upreared where one wide- spreading, ancient tree, 
 Sighs over YoutVs cold sepulchre alone, 
 No stranger bough disturbs its pensive form, 
 Where oft his more than youthful fancy strayed ; 
 Its vigil shields that fair tomb from the storm, 
 And guards the slumberer with a Yew-tree^s shade. 
 
 Dear friend, how silent, sacred, is the scene ! — 
 Thy grassy bed, beneath that chosen tree 
 Whose branches ever-grieving, ever-green. 
 Wave o'er thy resting-place, and weep for thee. 
 Yet better there to bend o'er Friendship's bier. 
 Than midst the world, for love sincere betrayed. 
 To drop unrecognised a bitter tear, 
 Too sad and earthly for this holy shade. 
 
73 
 
 A HISTORICAL PICTURE ON THE 
 BANKS OF THE WYE. 
 
 "Vocal no more, since Cambria's fatal day, 
 To high-born Hoel's haip, or soft Llewellyn's lay." 
 
 Geay's Bard. 
 
 Old Piercefield now looks proudly down, the deep- 
 rolled waters o'er 
 
 Where winding Wye shall glide along through 
 Slaughter's vale no more : 
 
 From crag to crag no warrior shout awake her clifF- 
 girt side, 
 
 Rise on the roar of wint'ry storm, or summer's 
 peace deride : 
 
 Dull kite, upborne above the wood on slow convulse- 
 less wing, 
 
 Nor kestrel startles in his cave, to hear the weapons 
 ring ; 
 
74 A HISTORICAL PICTURE 
 
 But oft at eve^ in hollow wail of solitary woe, 
 The night-owl hoots his dark applause at day's 
 departed glow. 
 
 Here doth the conscious river, nigh unto its future 
 home, 
 
 Forget swift Youth's more sparkling course, content 
 sedate to roam, 
 
 Much as the thought-directed flow of life's maturer 
 day, 
 
 When deep Eternity appears not very far away. 
 
 Primaeval grandeur, purpled wood, and giddy step- 
 less height. 
 
 Of shelving rock stoop shadowy o'er with ancient 
 moss bedight. 
 
 But well I ween that mansion grey, the monarch of 
 the glen. 
 
 Sees all effaced the transcript fell of red ambition's 
 pen. 
 
ON THE BANKS OF THE WYE. 75 
 
 Ye days of Cambrian chivaliy ! your nursery was 
 
 song, 
 It flowed commixed with princely blood the burning 
 
 veins along, 
 Each pulse-throb flung the rapture forth from some 
 
 deep-hidden string, 
 Each heart-beat taught some chieftain -bard of former 
 
 fame to sing ! 
 Ye days of Cambrian chivalry ! that lyre had better 
 
 been 
 Beneath the flow of angry Wye than on its banks of 
 
 green. 
 Whose last wild note a bitter wail adown the current 
 
 flung — 
 A slaveys the hand which tore its chords, and chains 
 
 the theme they sung. 
 
 The chieftain is to battle gone, the lady to her bower, 
 To sigh and weep in solitude at twilight^s stilly hour ; 
 
76 A HISTORICAL PICTURE 
 
 From ether blue the stars look bright upon this 
 
 world below. 
 As all like them should sighless be, and ever smiling 
 
 glow. 
 In Rhuddlan's battlemented walls does England^s 
 
 monarch stay, 
 Exulting in his brighter hopes till dawn of early day; 
 Exulting to have learnt at length Llewellyn and his 
 
 train 
 Their mountain-fastnesses have left to meet him on 
 
 the plain. 
 
 There is a murmur, as the sea heaves off its troubled 
 
 breast. 
 When muttering gales begin to lift the billow from 
 
 its rest ; 
 To gather in its masses slow, embodied soon to rise, 
 A pillared waterspout of death into the howling 
 
 skies : 
 
ON THE BANKS OF THE WYE. 11 
 
 There is a murmur hurried on throughout the Briton 
 ranks, 
 
 A wrathful, anguish-stricken groan on Wye^s tumul- 
 tuous banks ; 
 
 And many a lip, to pain compressed, drives on the 
 joyless sound, — 
 
 Llewellyn lies, and long shall lie, upon the stained 
 ground ! 
 
 Urge ! Mortimer, the day is thine ! What ! dar^st 
 
 not know it yet ? 
 In truth not easily thy fears old Snowdon^s broils 
 
 forget ! 
 But Nature here refuses more her barriers to allow, 
 To splinter back the steel-bound darts thy skilful 
 
 archers throw. 
 Llewellyn ! there is death, alas, this day to more than 
 
 thee. 
 And they who live but long to die, they live not to 
 
 be free ! 
 
78 A HISTORICAL PICTURE 
 
 Say, heard^st thou, witli a duller ear than was thy 
 
 wont of yore, 
 What wail arose to know that thou hadst falPn to 
 
 rise no more ? 
 
 Say, didst thou, half in slumber see, that flash of steel 
 on high. 
 
 As lifts the bleeding eaglets wing ere vigourless it lie ? 
 
 The Saxon mass as on they rushed, like giant's tot- 
 tering frame. 
 
 Hurled back ; for blighting was the scorch of Hope's 
 expiring flame ; 
 
 Then didst thou to repose recline ere yet a glimmer- 
 ing fell 
 
 Upon that sudden torch, a tale of coming gloom to 
 tell; 
 
 Nor learn at length the bitter truth, — thine ancient 
 line was o'er. 
 
 As lord of Cambria's beauteous hills, and vales, and 
 rivers more ? 
 
ON THE BANKS OF THE WYE. 79 
 
 The sun is red on Severn^s wave, far blushing to 
 his beam, 
 
 And red with an unearthlike red on Wye^s blood- 
 weeping stream ! 
 
 Grey Cader Idris far away has caught the spreading 
 wail, 
 
 And dark Plinlimmon's torrents sob to night's im- 
 passioned gale ! 
 
 And there are gatherings, chill, forlorn, on Arvon^s 
 sea-damp sand. 
 
 Of those whose strength no more can prop their 
 falling fatherland; 
 
 For few are they, and most are scarr'd, their faces 
 deadly white. 
 
 Look terrible through moonlight pale, a spectral 
 scene of night. 
 
 Behold, the seers^ white streaming locks wild strew 
 the solemn air, 
 
80 A HISTORICAL PICTURE 
 
 For hoary sage and minstrel liolcl their last assembly 
 
 there ; 
 No sounding harp string's echo falls, a heroes deeds 
 
 to tell 
 To all the listening rocks around, as formerly it 
 
 fell. 
 There is a gentle, lonely sigh, in moonlit myrtle 
 
 bower, 
 A dimness crossing beauty's eye at twilight's stilly 
 
 hour ; 
 But no endearing tale is near to change that weary 
 
 sigh, 
 No winding horn upon the hills to brighten up that 
 
 eye ! — 
 
 Now rests no stained, no war-torn sod, on Wye^s 
 
 soft banks of green; 
 For years have passed, and stol'n the trace of that 
 
 which once has been : 
 
ON THE BANKS OF THE WYE. 81 
 
 The merle^s sweet madrigal is heard at morning's 
 
 earhest hour; 
 There springs the white anemone, the woodland's 
 
 cherished flower : 
 
 Nor ever is there discord dark amid the mountain's 
 rife — 
 
 When brother meets with brother there, there are no 
 words of strife ; 
 
 No memory of those distant days, that bitter blood- 
 stained feud, 
 
 Their fathers knew, less blest than they, in darker 
 ages rude. 
 
 Sweet Severn, of Plinlimmon birth, her native land 
 
 to bless, 
 First tastes the pleasures of that land, her Cambria's 
 
 kind caress ; 
 Then bears the beauties of those hills along a flowery 
 
 bed, 
 
 G 
 
82 A HISTORICAL PICTURE, ETC. 
 
 Where lovely Albion^s valleys bright are by their 
 
 virtues fed : 
 Thus ever with her sister stream, the rich romantic 
 
 Wye, 
 May winter's storms their bosoms fan as summer 
 
 evening sigh ; 
 Still peace adorn the gentle banks their shining 
 
 waters lave, 
 Harmonious resting on the brink, harmonious in the 
 
 cave. 
 
83 
 
 TO BRECON. 
 
 Weittek at Sea. 
 
 Sweet vale ! no voice of Ocean e^er 
 
 Thy still retirement knew ; 
 No sea-storm lurks in sullen lair 
 
 Amid thy mountains blue ; — 
 Loved Brecon, absent from the gaze 
 
 That billows bound for me. 
 How oft the flight of memoiy strays 
 
 Instinctive back to thee ! 
 
84 TO BRECON. 
 
 Borne swift across the briny waste, 
 
 Back to some sheltering wood, 
 Where^ winding green, thy vale is traced 
 
 By UsVs transparent flood, — 
 Bright Usk ! the woodland shade at eve. 
 
 When sunset rays divide. 
 Smiles, as their latest beam they leave 
 
 Upon thy golden tide. 
 
 There yet will lingering wishful rest 
 
 One Time-existing ray. 
 Waiting to die upon thy breast, 
 
 When lifers full beams decay : 
 Thus, hastening on, sometimes a flower 
 
 Beside our path we find. 
 Which leaves not at its fading hour 
 
 But beauty's blight behind. 
 
85 
 
 A SISTER^S VOICE. 
 
 " But thy soft murmuring 
 Sounds sweet, as if a sister's voice reproved." 
 
 Byeon. 
 
 How often on my heedless ear^ 
 In days gone by^ that gentle tone 
 Had fallen soft ; but ah ! though near 
 The words were breathed^ I did but hear, — 
 Not half they meant was know^i ! 
 
 Now, stealing o^er the moonlit wave 
 With the wild music of the sea, 
 Lost words from many an early grave, 
 Words which a gentle sister gave. 
 Come sadly back to me. 
 
86 A SISTER^S VOICE. 
 
 I close mine eyelids, and I stand 
 Where no deep billows roll around, 
 For in my childhood^s far-off land 
 I seem to clasp her soft white hand, 
 And listen to the sound. 
 
 I weep not when they rest again 
 Upon the wide unvaried sea, 
 Or sigh, remembering how vain 
 The music of the murmuring main 
 ^Twixt that loved land and me. 
 
 For Heaven's calm light upon the deep. 
 So oft by cruel tempests driven. 
 Forbids me, while those tempests sleep. 
 And starry worlds shine bright, to weep ; 
 And thou didst speak of Heaven. 
 
A SISTER^S VOICE. 87 
 
 May angels, loved one, softly say, 
 Whilst thou art sleeping, "Do not fear — 
 Thy brother, though he^s far away. 
 Still loves, while billows round him play, 
 His sister's voice to hear." 
 
88 
 
 THE CASCADE. 
 
 Under the darkening bridge it ran, 
 Into the sunshine swift and bright, 
 And there its fairy sport began, 
 Leaping from off the giddy height : 
 Young primroses^ to see the sight, 
 Looked up in pretty groups and smiled ; 
 And the wild woodland^s favorite child. 
 
 The delicate anemone. 
 
 Its perilous descent to see 
 Grew pale, and trembled with affright. 
 
THE CASCADE. 89 
 
 It sparkled in the May-morn sun. 
 Shooting its silver arrows round ; 
 Rested, and then more wildly run, 
 Enraptured by its own sweet sound : 
 O'er many a devious ledge it wound 
 Its moss-paved path, and crooked fall. 
 Admired and wondered at by all : 
 No overshadowing turf, to gain 
 A lightening kiss, hung o'er in vain 
 Betwixt the bridge and level ground. 
 
 One instant — hut one instant — there, 
 With mute and glowing smile it stood, — 
 Trembled at what itself could dare, 
 And wandered on in thoughtful mood, 
 Down-winding through the solemn wood : 
 On either velvet side was spread 
 A varied carpet, and its bed 
 
90 THE CASCADE. 
 
 Smootli pebbles formed ; in this retreat 
 Soft sounds of Naiads' tiny feet 
 
 Oft fall, or wood-nymphs whispers brood. 
 
 And here sometimes, when all around, 
 And in the lofty boughs, is still. 
 Nor near or far is heard a sound 
 Except the tinkling of the rill, 
 A breath from summer skies will fill 
 The clustering leaves, and gently shake 
 The flowerets sleeping in the brake^ 
 Then murmur while the mavis sings. 
 And all the wakened valley rings, 
 
 Strange tales, which all their bosoms thrill. 
 
 There came a stranger to these halls. 
 In beautiful disguise, when bright 
 The May-sun sparkled on the falls, 
 And all things wondered at the sight ; 
 
THE CASCADE. 91 
 
 They said that morning, that the hght 
 Looked through the branches wond^rous fair, — 
 They laughed, but nothing else was there : 
 She came all beautiful, — and still 
 Her voice is in the sparkling rill, 
 
 Sweet, heavenly music, day and night. 
 
 May 4, 1860. 
 
92 
 
 THE POETRY OF PEACE. 
 
 " Mercy and truth are met together ; righteousness and peace 
 have Idssed each other." — Ps. Ixxxv. 10. 
 
 A CONSCIENCE basking in the smile of Heaven, 
 
 Whose noonday sun is holiness and love. 
 
 Glad in the consciousness of sins forgiven 
 
 And justice satisfied, can rise above 
 
 Earth's trifles and earth's cares, and cast below 
 
 A look of peace ineffable : but so 
 
 Is that clear conscience made of Christ's pui'e mind 
 
 A blest partaker, that ere long the woe, 
 
 Darkening a world to its own interests blind, 
 
 Shrouds the bright spirit's radiance, and with Him 
 
 Who over Salem wept, the eye of peace grows dim. 
 
THE POETRY 0¥ PEACE. 93 
 
 Immortal being ! who are they all fair. 
 
 The limit of whose sight is perfect bliss ? — 
 
 They Ve reached the heavenly world, and, happy there, 
 
 Have ceased to weep for misery in this ; 
 
 Not one inhabitant their eyes behold 
 
 Without a robe of white, or crown of gold. 
 
 This, then, is peace ineffable, but far 
 
 Beyond the earthly, as those things untold 
 
 Which fancy paints beyond experience are 
 
 In real life; but how can thought increase 
 
 Or fancy paint the bounds of perfect, lasting peace ? 
 
94 
 
 LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM. 
 
 Not to the sandy beach, where yesterday 
 You walked and talked, do you return to find 
 The footprints of a friend now far away, — 
 Waves have rolled there and left no trace behind : 
 Not in the hollow moanings of the wind 
 Come back the voices which afar it bore ; 
 Another pathway is to thee assigned. 
 Thine inmost heart's recesses to explore, 
 There to behold his form, and hear his voice once 
 more. 
 
LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM. 95 
 
 There something heard and treasured quick recalls 
 The tone in which ^twas uttered^ and again, 
 Fresh on the fancy as at first, it falls, 
 Bringing its first amount of joy or pain ; 
 No accent there an entrance sought in vain, 
 Or like a solitary echo came. 
 Which for an instant only can remain ; 
 For there, distinct to memory as his name. 
 He stands whose words they were, as when he spake 
 — the same. 
 
 This is the book where they who come and go 
 Leave here and there a trace, and nothing more, 
 Not soon efi'aced by Timers impetuous flow. 
 As faint impressions on the sandy shore ; 
 And here the forms which you have seen before 
 Of absent friends, or friends long passed away. 
 Some hasty line first faintly will restore. 
 And then the thought more perfectly pourtray. 
 Showing you how they passed their little earthly day. 
 
96 LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM. 
 
 Then you, wlio may tliese varied pages turn, 
 Let not dull thoughtlessness make vain your toil, 
 Or rude contempt, your nobler wish to learn 
 The simplest truths, with tone sarcastic spoil : 
 For loveliest flowers bedeck the lowliest soil. 
 
 And depths of forest unexplored perfume. 
 Far from the busy world^s perpetual broil. 
 Making a Paradise of earthly gloom, 
 And beautifying e'en the precincts of the tomb. 
 
 I860. 
 
ir 
 
 97 
 
 THE MIRAGE. 
 
 A Feagment. 
 
 I 
 
 Far o'er Sahara's waste the pilgrim^s eye 
 
 Measures his labour's dread futurity ; 
 
 But far or near, to soothe his anguish keen, 
 
 No pahny foliage specks the hazy scene, — 
 
 When all at once his filmy eyes behold 
 
 A lucid lake across th' horizon rolled. 
 
 " Sweet hope ! ^' he cries ; " begone, despairing 
 
 thought ! 
 How kind the toil this matchless hour that brouixht ! 
 There, from the basin of some crystal pool, 
 These parching lips shall sip the liquid cool ; 
 My sandals loosed, these wayworn feet shall lave 
 Their burning wounds beneath the glassy wave. 
 
 H 
 
98 THE MIRAGE. 
 
 Ye'll soon be there^ my trembling steps/^ he cries; 
 '* Yet^ oh ! bow distance mocks these aching eyes ! 
 How want deceives ! What giddy languor dim 
 Sickens my soul, and makes my senses swim." 
 
 Borne onward still by false excitement wild. 
 Reels on his tortured way the desert child ; 
 With gaze transfixed, that swims but wavers not. 
 Turned on his all of hope — that watery spot : — 
 Unequal combat ! but at length content — 
 Its cruel rage to taunt his misery spent — 
 The misty lake, unwilling yet to stay 
 Its fearful work accomplished, fades away ; 
 His childhood^s dread, the false mirage he knows. 
 Thinks on the unreached shrine, forgets his woes, — 
 In one long-holden, unattended breath 
 Pours forth his soul, and shuts his eyes in death ! 
 
 * * * * 
 
99 
 
 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 The tempest blast, careering wild. 
 
 Whirls high the scattered spray ; 
 Yet mark yon Ocean's storm-nursed child 
 
 Above the billow play : — 
 So sports o'er Time's tempestuous sea, 
 
 When torn by winds of care, 
 Some young affection fond and free 
 
 That has been nurtured there. 
 
100 
 
 THE SECRET OF CONTENT. 
 
 • 
 
 There are in tliis our earthly sphere 
 Some lowly paths to wisdom dear, 
 Whose tuneful shades and arbours rare 
 For more unpleasing scenes prepare, 
 Which hush the ruder passion's strife 
 Ere heightened by the ills of life, 
 And bid the heart its love extend 
 To those whose steps may never tend 
 On toil's rough road, to peace or joy. 
 Or rest, so absent from alloy. 
 And there is many a lowly cot 
 Where envy's voice has sounded not. 
 
THE SECRET OF CONTENT. 101 
 
 Or fierce ambition's brand severe 
 Lit all most sacred and most dear; 
 To raise before a selfish world 
 A flamCj whose last mad column, hurled 
 High as the rapid meteor's flame. 
 Sinks into nothingness or shame, 
 The ember- smoke of eai-thly fame. 
 How dear is such a cottage home ! 
 There never hard misfortunes come, 
 Save such as chasten hopes too wdld 
 For Nature's loved but humble child ; 
 And teach tV untutored rustic's mind 
 How sorrow's self to him is kind. 
 In some secluded hamlet, seen 
 Deep in the woodland valley green. 
 The early, wayward flower to tend. 
 The sprig new sprouting timely bend ; 
 To fit the growing mind to bear 
 Harsh storms of trouble and of care ; 
 
102 THE SECRET OF CONTENT. 
 
 To point the pathway where the view 
 Slow chmbs some mountain prospect blue^ 
 And dark ravines of danger thread 
 The pass all mortal footsteps tread, — 
 Oh, this is heaven -approved employ, 
 The seed of an immortal joy ! 
 Thy locks, thou honoured master, may 
 Say, " we have grown too early grey," 
 And speak of spring delights which fled 
 
 Like wintry shadows o^er thine head ; 
 Perchance those solemn lips may move 
 A sentence to departed love ; — 
 ^Tis but the vanity of thought 
 By thee so oft, so truly taught ; 
 Still faithfully thy part fulfil. 
 With constant, unrepining will ; 
 The crown that all thy labour ends 
 For all will make a just amends : 
 Perchance when feebleness and age 
 
THE SECRET OF CONTENT. 103 
 
 That vision dims, those floods assuage 
 
 Which often told, when brimming o'er, 
 
 The tales that others share no more, 
 
 The filling eye, the husky tone 
 
 Which spake of sorrows not thine own. 
 
 And Time's inide hand has snatched from the, 
 
 The lightning dart of mirthful glee ; 
 
 Then shalt thou smile for joy to hear 
 
 How some fair boy to mem'rj'^ dear. 
 
 The subject of thy watchful toil. 
 
 Reared in this undistinguished soil. 
 
 Has lived to yield his cultured mind 
 
 A store of blessings to mankind. 
 
 He too shall to an end attain 
 
 Surpassing all of earthly gain, 
 
 Who, lost amid the busy throng 
 
 That moves life's crowded course along. 
 
 Lost to the loving eyes whose care 
 
 Must cease to watch his footsteps there. 
 
104 THE SECRET OF CONTENT. 
 
 And filled with all affection^ s fears 
 Return to solitude and tears ; — 
 Yes, he is blest, who thus resigned, 
 Deems it his chief concern to bind 
 Around his heart those bonds of truth 
 That guided all his earliest youth ; 
 Resolved to cherish and defend 
 Each sacred relic to the end : 
 For these shall lead to genuine peace, 
 Increasing with the mind^s increase, 
 When urged amid the boisterous crowd 
 To deeds they never had allowed, 
 He hears, above the unhallowM din 
 That rises from the ranks of sin. 
 Celestial music softly roll 
 Its rapture o^er his wavering soul ; 
 Bid all his latent powers arise. 
 To hail assistance from the skies, 
 Which gives him perfect victory 
 
THE SECRET OF CONTENT. 105 
 
 O^er all the hosts of infamy. 
 
 Oh ! if on life's dim^ chequered way^ 
 
 Where truth is soher, falsehood gay, 
 
 ^Tis wisdom eager to pursue 
 
 Perfection of all beauty true, 
 
 More glorious aim unbinds the soul 
 
 From fascination^s cursed control ; 
 
 Leads up to Pisgah's topmost height 
 
 And points to Canaan^s fields of light ; 
 
 Bids him despise the flowery ease 
 
 On pleasure's painted couch he sees. 
 
 Disdainful driven to court the pain, 
 
 Which fools, and none but fools, disdain ; 
 
 Conducts him at the hour of rest. 
 
 In midnight's rustling mantle dressed, 
 
 With gentle voice and noiseless tread. 
 
 To his accustomed grassy bed. 
 
 On cold damp stones to lay his head : 
 
 For there the vision he'll behold 
 
106 THE SECRET OF CONTENT. 
 
 In which his life-long tale is told, 
 From earth into the opening skies 
 All bright the angel staircase rise, 
 Its summit the EternaFs throne. 
 Each midway resting-place his own : 
 And there, when morning's misty beam 
 Disperses all the heavenly dream. 
 His faith of that stone pillow raise 
 An altar to Jehovah's praise — 
 Praise for so bright a picture given 
 Of his own shining path to heaven. 
 
107 
 
 '' THE DAYS THAT ARE GONE/' 
 
 •' That bower and its music I never forget ; 
 
 But oft when alone, in the bloom of the year, 
 I think is the nightingale singing there yet : 
 Are the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer?" 
 
 Lalla Rookh. 
 
 Where is that spot where at daylight's decline 
 
 The shadows of memoiy lightly shall fall ; 
 Like the star of the evening unsullied to shine 
 
 Through life's multiplied visions the brightest of 
 all? 
 Who'll seek it where sadness and changes, a cloud. 
 
 O'er the earliest sunbeams of pleasure have drawn ; 
 Or deem that another so fair is allowed 
 
 As the first of the many bright days that are gone ? 
 
108 ^' THE DAYS THAT ARE GONe/^ 
 
 Home of my heart ! if tliy rocks and thy streams, 
 
 Thy mountains and valleys, mine ever could be, 
 I had fancied, to sweeten the rest of my dreams, 
 
 That all earth was a garden of roses like thee ; 
 As the cloud that is gilded when passing the moon, — 
 
 There only those tints can its vapours adorn. 
 For it floats into darkness and vanishes soon, — 
 
 Is life's first golden vapour the days that are gone : 
 
 Yet still whilst the sunshine of summer is strong. 
 
 And the arbours of spring-tide are flowerless and 
 few, 
 ni think on the groves that are bursting with song. 
 
 And the buds of the valley all dripping with dew. 
 And lost in tV Elysium of shade that they bring. 
 
 Fly back to the beauties and blossoms of morn ; 
 ^Vliile the air that is burning around me shall ring 
 
 With the voice of my song to the days that are gone. 
 
109 
 
 A REQUEST. 
 
 Whenever Prayer directs your eyes 
 Where parted spirits meet — above, 
 Seek far away beyond the skies 
 For him you love. 
 
 There is a hope when absence whehns 
 These bosoms that too oft despond ; 
 It pierces yonder azure realms, 
 And looks beyond : 
 
 For not in vain — to end unseen — 
 The race of being bears us on ; — 
 The beaten course has trodden been 
 
 In ages gone. 
 
110 A REQUEST. 
 
 Well Folly might the steps attend 
 Of him who speeds to goal unknown ; 
 Who feels not if he reach the end 
 He'll gain a crown. 
 
 Onward we press from Death to Birth 
 Of lasting Life ; a span is given 
 For strife; the starting point is earth. 
 The goal is heaven ! 
 
 The breast may ache in contest swift. 
 The heart may palpitate for rest : — 
 On ! seize the prize ! not throbs its gift. 
 Or aching breast. 
 
 The journey is but short at last. 
 Then pain will nothing grievous seem. 
 Or as reviewM, when sleep is past, 
 A troubled dream : — 
 
A REQUEST. Ill 
 
 Oh ! then, when Prayer directs your eyes 
 Where parted spirits meet — above, 
 Seek far away beyond the skies 
 For him you love ! 
 
112 
 
 A PROMISE. 
 
 As oft toward the heavenly hill 
 Each fond desire^ on wings of air. 
 Ascends, thy name shall waken still 
 The sweetest music there ! 
 
 Fair as the shades, that even sends, 
 Flush crimson o'er the sunset sea. 
 Each cloud of sorrow soft that blends 
 With sunny thoughts of thee : 
 
 The light of Hope which stedfast burns, 
 Beyond, is as that Arctic ray 
 Which, ere its glory's set, returns 
 And changes night to day. 
 
A PROMISE. 113 
 
 Oceans may separate, and years 
 As drear and stormy sever wide, — 
 Sorrows, and joys, and hopes, and fears. 
 Like shadows through them glide : 
 
 But, through the loudest tempest borne. 
 Shall Memory^s whisper, sweet and mild. 
 Come o'er the gloomy waste forlorn 
 Of thousand billows wild : 
 
 Till years have hushed to calm repose 
 This longing heart's uncertain strife. 
 And sorrow scarce a shadow throws 
 Upon the sea of life ; 
 
 Then patient trust, refined by days 
 Of lonely watchfulness and care, 
 Shall welcome with a song of praise 
 The answer to its prayer. 
 
 I 
 
114 
 
 t( 
 
 REQUIESCAT IN PACE/' 
 
 Lines written on visiting the Grave of Sir H. Havelock, 
 AT the Alum Bagh near Lucknow. 
 
 No monument erected fair, 
 To honourM memory, tlie last 
 
 Regret can rear ; 
 And all true worth is doomed to share 
 Too oft, alas ! has ever cast 
 
 Its shadow here : — 
 
 Where long the gaping crowd may gaze 
 Till weariness their wonder wear 
 
 To common thought. 
 And Truth, worn out by length of days, 
 Is varnished into falsehood fair. 
 
 Let such he sought. 
 
(( WTI^r^TTTT^^Oi-, »m TIWT ^ . ^^ }} 
 
 REQUIESCAT IN PACE. 115 
 
 More favoured tree that, night and day, 
 By morn and twilight's beam of gold. 
 
 Art doomed to wave 
 Where travellers pause awhile and say, 
 '^ Here sleeps a sage and warrior bold — 
 
 'Tis Havelock's grave ! " 
 
 Not stony thou ; untaught, unbid ; 
 Thy ceaseless labour to declare 
 
 To passers-by. 
 Whose sacred ashes here are hid. 
 Where Truth shall Time itself outwear, 
 
 And death shall die. 
 
 When, of Ambition's army, they 
 
 Who sought with restless zeal, and found, 
 
 A crown below. 
 Have passed from Honour's scroll awav, 
 With eveiy withered wreath that bound 
 
 Each mortal brow. 
 
116 " REQUIESCAT IN PACE.'^ 
 
 Still, living page that nigh the throne 
 Of Paradise, no time can dim, 
 
 Or flame consume, 
 His name shall cease not to be known 
 On thee : a fadeless crown for him 
 
 Shall ever bloom. 
 
 Rest, warrior, rest ! thy victory won, — 
 Thy marches and thy conflicts o'er, — 
 
 Thy country blest : 
 Nor pestilence, nor midday sun 
 On Indian plain, shall smite thee more : 
 
 Rest, warrior, rest ! 
 
 So rests his soul where conflicts cease. 
 In robes of stainless white arrayed, 
 
 From every care : 
 The palms of Victory and peace, 
 Of ever vernal trees, the shade. 
 
 Thrice welcome there ! 
 
117 
 
 THE DEPARTED SABBATH. 
 
 A Sabbath gone — for ever gone ! 
 Another's sun may not arise 
 Ere I unclose these wondering eyes 
 Upon the resurrection morn ; — 
 
 .}> 
 
 Ere I behold the " great white throne^ 
 On which He sits, before whose face 
 The Heaven and Earth can find no place, 
 But man must give account alone : 
 
 No sheltering hill — no secret cave, 
 To hide him from that scene, is there, — 
 No ocean, in whose depths Despair 
 Itself could smile to find a grave ; 
 
118 THE DEPARTED SABBATH. 
 
 No tempest-laden clouds, whose gloom 
 Lends a dark sanction to his flight 
 Who fain would steal, by dead of night, 
 Back to the silence of the tomb. — 
 
 Ere I behold, as far as ken 
 Can wander through unbounded space, 
 The countless hosts redeeming grace 
 Has ransomed of the sons of men; — 
 
 See, beautiful in white array 
 Each heir of heavenly glory stand. 
 Or stoop to kiss the pierced hand 
 Which gives a golden crown away. 
 
 A Sabbath gone — for ever gone ! 
 Another's sun may not arise 
 Ere I unclose these wondering eyes 
 Upon the resurrection morn. 
 
NOTES. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 Page 17, line 10. 
 Whose streets of gold as glass transparent shine. 
 
 '* And the street of the city was pure gold, as it were trans- 
 parent glass,'" — Rev. xxi. 21. 
 
 Page 17, line 15. 
 To seraph harps refined, and ever tuned. 
 
 *' Then crowned again their golden harps they took. 
 Harps ever tuned." 
 
 Milton, Paradise Lost, h. iii. 1. 3G5. 
 
 Page 19, line 3. 
 
 The cloud that always must conceal that spot 
 And Heaven's high-road without me. 
 
 " Jesus saith unto him, I am the way." — John, xiv. 6. 
 
122 NOTES. 
 
 Page 19, line 8. 
 
 Whence rose a sound as, swifter than their flow, 
 O'er many waters floats. 
 
 " And his feet like unto fine brass, as if they burned in a 
 furnace ; and his voice as the sound of many waters." — Rev. 
 i. 15. 
 
 Page 21 , line 8. 
 
 Was sorrow e'er like His deep sorrow seen, 
 Whom Heaven hath sore afflicted ? 
 
 " Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by ? behold and see 
 if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is done unto 
 rae, wherewith the Lord hath afllicted me in the day of his 
 fierce anger." — Lam. i. 12. 
 
 Page 21, line 19. 
 
 The crown He wore 
 From brier to myrtle grown of living bloom : 
 Each hill broke forth in singing, and the trees 
 Clapped all their hands. 
 
 " Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir-tree, and instead 
 of the brier shall come up the myrtle tree." — Isa. Iv. 13. 
 
 " For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace : 
 the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into 
 singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands." — 
 Isa. Iv. 12. 
 
NOTES. 123 
 
 Page 38, line 3. 
 Clouds like the loings of angels. 
 
 " Holy thoughts, like stars, arise, 
 Its clouds are angels' Asings." 
 
 Longfellow, Prelude to Voices of the Night. 
 
 Page 63, line 10. 
 More noble he, &c. Aristides, named " the Just." 
 
 Page 79, line 5. 
 And there are gatherings, chill, farlorn, on Arvon's sea-damp sand. 
 
 " On dreary Arvon's shore they lie." — Gray's Bard. 
 
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!h^ 
 
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