THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES c a~ 77?^ ^ ^iT / ^^^ :ls^ /^/ CROES Y BREILA OR, Cbe ^rmises of glany Ilegular Meehs. V ij;*' pp. -,-r -r^ f^'waiBgFKtSESBi. .-j|C"^e^ -S^ 5i^S5^„ SUN DIAL, IN SHENSTONE CHURCHYARD V *•* >!» see paQe 50. CROES Y BREILA: OR, THE EXERCISES OF MANY REGULAR WEEKS. BY R. W. ESSINGTON, M.A., VICAR OF SHEXSTONE. AUTHOK OF " OVER VOLCANOES," BY A KINGSMAN. LONDON : BEMROSE AND SONS, 10, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS; AND DERBY. AU Rights Reserved. MDCCCLXxrx. AUGUSTO E. MANLEY, DE AULA MANLEIANA AEMIGEEO COMITATUS SUI VICECOMITI D. D. D. AUCTOR CAPELLANUS ETONENSI ETONENSIS Calendis Maktiis, mdccclxxix. 8588^0 The Author has to thank the Publishers of "London Society," "Bentlei/'s Magazine," " Fr user's Magazine," "Chambers' Jour- nal," etc., etc., for permission to reprint contributions accepted hi/ them. CONTENTS. PAGE Croes y Breila ------- 1 Victoria L.eta ---.-,-. 3 G-. A. Selwyn -.-.... q Motto for the Rifle Brigade - - - . Q The Cloud ---.-... 7 The Bow in the Cloud - - - . . q Out of Sight - - - - . - - . 9 The Mind -----.. 12 On the Eigi - ------ 13 In Memoriam — Henrici Moore - - - - 14 The Princes of Egypt - - . . - 15 Janet ---.... 26 The Vatican ------- 17 Pio NoNO -----.-. 20 On a School in Lichfield ----- 21 A Bethlehem Idyll - . . . . 22 On a Dial in Shenstone Churchyard - - - 30 On a Dial in Front of Shenstone Vicarage - 30 In the Dark Night ------ 31 A Question ---.... 3g Stamboul for Italy - - . - . - 37 CONTKNTS. PA HE 41 A Burning Question - - • " The Eastward Position . . - - - 41 On the Iiight Side ----'" On the Wrong Side ^^ Faith ---"'."'' Hope - - ■ " '• ' Hope Deferred - ■ " " " 47 A Stolen Kiss ----""' 48 By the Well ------' The Withered Misletoe - - - - Drowned ---•"''' III Success - - - ■ ' " . ' The Ehine Watch ------ On the Eye of the White Horse To the Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone - Answered Prayers - - - • - HULDAH The King's Feast - - - - " A Picture by Dore An Evening Communion - - - - - 81 A Warning ----■■' At Capri — A Contrast - - - - - Rome's Converts Smallness and Greatness . - - - - 91 93 Redemption ---■'' Love Unfeigned - Evergreens at Christmas - • - ■ 97 Stooping - - iU Undone .------■ The Mayor of the Palace at the Yatk^an - - 102 Cajiels and Gnats ------ 1^* 44 45 46 52. 60 61 62 64 66 67 68 78 79 86 90 CONTENTS. XI PAGE Don Dineeo of Quetedo Modernised - - - 105 Allhallows at Avillion - - - - - 108 A PiH'ER IN THE SoUTH - - - - - - 1 1 4 Differences - - - - - - - 117 The Tyranny of a Tooth - - - - - 118 Cooing and Kootooing - - - - - 124 The Pass of Betomestham ----- 125 A EoBiN Astray -.--.. 142 cle^'er for a grentleman - - - - - 143 The Emigrant's Hymn . - . - . 147 Old Catholics - - - - - - - 148 The Life of Christ - - - - - 150 A Lay from the Apocrypha - - - - - 153 Nobody and Somebody - - - - - 166 Banns --...-.-- 179 The Palm Sunday of SER%aA - - - - 180 Wiltshire Cured - - - - - - - 183 The Friend - - - - - - - 187 The Eeal Friend- - - - - - - 188 Easter Eve 189 A Bridal Hymn - - - - . - - - 190 Toasts 191 Jehu 192 Knots Cut .-..-.- 195 ExcELsioRA Prospicix - - - - - - 198 Goody - 199 Our Two Cardinals ------ 200 The King of Boys 204 Presumption - - - - - - - - 205 The Living Death - - - - - - 206 Dropping from the Clouds ■ - . - 207 Xii CONTENTS. The Baptist in the Desert A Lo^'E Pabley - PAOE 209 210 It Fizzes - '^^^ A Sound Faith 213 Questions and Answers 214 The Lost Tribes - 215 Church Defence ------ 216 Leaves 217 AY hat is Coming? 218 Purging all Meats 219 A Happy Christmas ------ 220 The Vestments ------- 222 Thohu va Vohu ------ 223 Our Sanitary Canon ------ 224 The Outcast's Home - . . . - 226 Habitual Confession ------ 226 Our Crusaders- ------ 228 The Bells of Ouseley - - - - 229 The Converts of Patricius . . . . 280 AVoRK 235 A Last Look at Eton ----- 236 The Future 238 €xot& g ISvttla. T various times in the course of my life, 52j^ strangers of many nations have said to me mysteriously, " So you also are a brother of the Croes y Breila, a Rosicrucian." To this re- cognition I used to reply, that although I knew that " Croes y Breila," in the language of the Druids, meant the Rosy Cross, I was very little acquainted with the doctrines of those who believe in the existence of a glorious lamp, long buried, but never extinguished, and destined to become the Light of the World. The rejoinder to my disclaimer has always been couched in the same terms, namely, " Nevertheless, thou art a Rosi- crucian, for thy speech betrayeth thee." Latterly, when accosted in this way, I have offered no contradiction to the assertion. Indeed, 2 CROES Y BREILA. I begin to think that I may be a member of the Croes y Breila after all. It is true that I am as little conversant with the cabalistic figures now as ever I was, but perhaps they are not essential. At all events, I have long felt that I ought to be serving under a Cross of some sort, and I hope that there are within me some rays of the imperishable light. I have, therefore, ventured to draw attention to the Croes y Breila, or the Rosy Cross, and 1 have done so under the conviction that they who unfurl this banner wish to enforce a great truth, which ascetics and persecutors, and fanatics of all sorts, conspire to obscure. This truth is, that religion does not consist in torturing other people or even ourselves, nor in the dogmas or opinions which lead to such wickedness ; but in a humble acceptance of Christ's doctrines, and a zealous endeavour to promote enduring happiness. These are the principles which have inspired this book, and hence its title, " CROES Y BREILA." \aCTOKIA L^TA. Vittoxm ilscta, tN science first, and first in classic lore, First "with the bat, the racquet, and the oar, With humour always keen, yet always kind, A mine of facts and figures was hia mind ; So when the rumour- ran that Torr would speak, Sabrina's Porson,* leaving his loved Greek, Endured the Union for the blaze of wit, Which, while he thundered, used to play on it. What prize too high for such a frame to win ? A frame informed by such a mind within ! Did not the Court and Granta vie to place Our Sidney first in life's Olympic race ? Alas ! he died upon a moorland cm-e ; Uncared for died, misunderstood, and poor, Died, though he knew it not, upon the day When she he loved, and left, had passed away, *As I write a ghost rises before me. It is he, who during many weeks of suspense, saw within his reach the one object of his am- bition, viz., the mantle of the great Professor, now so worthily worn by Dr. Kennedy. I shall never forget the effect of the decision, which was to the following effect: — " Ingenio major, minor annis cede, magistro Displicuisse tuo nostra Sabrina vetat." My poor friend, Edward Meredith Cope, never recovered from this blow. 4 CROES Y BEEILA. Had left to save licr duteous heart the ire Of a too wealthy, too ambitious sire, She, who had taught his aching heart to look For consolation to the Holy Book ; And he had found it there, and at the Feast Of glad communion with the One High Priest ; But they who hoped his victories to hail, They, who had seen each bright prediction fail. Felt that the early haloes of their friend Had turned to clouds and darkness at the end. Such the sad thoughts of all, except the few Who knew the Christ, and thus the secret knew ; But many blamed him for his wasted hours, His misdirected, unproductive powers; And one there was, he knew the dead man well. And mourned in him a lost Achitophel, Who, half in disappointment, half in joke, Thus the hushed stillness of bereavement broke, " This tomb will want an epitaph, and here Is a fit tribute to a spoiled career. How inconsistent are the ways of God, Our child of promise — proved an Ichabod ! " He, laughing, spake, but ere the scorner slept, A horror of great darkness o'er him swept, And, while his body on the mattress lay. His dreaming spirit clove the starlit way. VICTORIA L^TA. 5 By fiery legions of Archangels led, Whose flaming swords flashed lightnings round his head, And all he saw, he told us on the morn, In tones of horror, mingled with self scorn — On the pale horse of death, before a gate, Torr, whom I dared to deem unfortunate, Sate mounted. In his hand, its keen point lowered, The Word of God, which is the Spirit's sword, His helmet, 'twas salvation, bent so low, The pendent cross lay on his saddle-bow, The fire of love had marred his wayworn dress, But bright the breast-plate shone, 'twas righteousness. And thus he spake, "I died to seek my Lord." Then the gate opened of its own accord. His Lord was there, his God, the Virgin's Son ; And kneeling at her Saviour's feet, was one He loved, and left ; then on my ear there fell A voice, which whispered, "Here is Christabel ; They sowed in tearfe, they reap in joy with Me, Defeat in life, in death is victory." Grey, who had seen that vision, ceased to speak, And the hot tear-drops furrowed his wan cheek ; He ceased, and wonder filled the silent room ; At length he murmured, " Lay me in Torr's tomb. That life was life, but mine a long offence, And poor and short is livelong penitence. 6 CROES Y BREILA. I thought that riches, armed with intellect, Would awe the world, subdue it, and dii-ect The world, which like a conqueroi*'s steed should feel Its pride increased, spurred onwards by my heel ; But wisdom folly is, and riches dross, And glory shame, and earth's acquirements loss ; Begone, base Mammon, Belial depart, I knew ye not, but ye have ruled my heart ; Now am I freed, one warning has sufficed, Come, overcome the world and me, my Christ." JO the Old World and New an equal loss, Our Polar Star, and there the Southern Cross, Selwyn no more will guide his fellow-men, Gone home to rest at three score years and ten ; But as the star which brightened earth's dark night. Though hid by morning, gilds the heavenly height, He shines the more beneath God's greater light. iHotto fov t!jc IXifit Bvtaatrc. NoMEN dat telum, praedam qui suggerat, absit. THE CLOUD. jTn TELP Thou mine unbelief; Cjj~, The more I read Thy Book, and reason out Its contradictions, all the more I doubt ; And deeper doubt is ever deeper grief. For, if it be not true, This frame, already conscious of decay, And full of pains, and waning day by day. Its crescent youth must nevermore renew — And they to whom I said, " Farewell, awhile farewell, until we meet Before the Mighty Healer's mercy-seat," Are not asleep and resting, but stone dead. And all that they, or we Have built aloft in heaven-aspiring thought To raise a pmiy race, must come to nought, And Babels, and Birs Nimrouds only be — Then, though the glimpse be brief, And sad, and full of peril, raise the veil. Lest faith, and hope, and love alike should fail. And all be lost, help Thou mine unbelief. CROES Y BREILA. m)t Bolu in tt)c Cloutr. (iiJ llJcN* VER for help lias cried, Q^:^ The pilgrim, dazed by darkness ; but the Stone Reveals to those who seem the most alone A glorious Mahanaim by their side. Ancl think how once was won The world men call the New ; while science showed No land could he along the Pinta's road, Spain saw it rise behind the setting sun. And were it never night, How some would scoff if inspiration said, That orbs of light were shining overhead, Obscured by more, revealed by lesser light. Yet wisdom would not change Our sunny midday joyoqsness, and make Drear centuries of darkness, for the sake Of those who wished that sight had wider range. Sceptics might cease to grieve, "And doubts, disputes, denials might be o'er, But losing these, the world would hear no more The shout of faith victorious, " I believe," OUT OF SIGHT. 9 S soon as the Master's feet relinquished their ^^23^ hold upon the earth, a cloud received Him at once, and He was removed from man's sight. The mist came sweeping down the slopes of Olivet one moment, and at the same moment the everlasting doors were lifting up their heads. No eye marked the Divine Being as He clove the skies, and became less and less in the distance ; nor did any child of Adam, with vision miracu- lously intensified, witness the entrance of the Creator through the crystal gates. The glorious scene has been described by King David, and it is to be painted by Gustave Dore ; * but the details, which were supplied to the soldier-poet by inspiration, will come to the great painter from the depths of his marvellous imagination ; for no human eye saw the Angels when they veiled their faces in the presence of their conquering Lord, the Standard Bearer of the Rosy Cross. This limit to the vision of man was for the best, * This subject was suggested to M. G. Dore by tlie Eev. G. H. Wayte, and thankfully accepted. 10 CROES Y BREILA. no doubt ; and it is also well that our views of religion become obscured just at the same point, that is, as soon as the feet are removed from this earth. At all events they are thus restricted. For while the revelation deals with the duties of this world, all is so plain that neither the child nor the wayfaring man has any difficulty in under- standing the teaching. But when the ascension has commenced, the vision of the most far-seeing is baffled. We can follow with awe and reverence a little way, but it is only a little way. When we hear God, our Father, speaking from heaven, and at the same time see God, the Spirit, descending, like a Dove, upon God the Son, standing in the Jordan, we adore the miraculous perfection of happiness, viz.. Triune existence, but we do not understand the incomprehensible mystery. And yet, while this Christian verity is in one way contrary to human reason, it is in another way most agreeable to it. For it is natural to conclude that the Creator has secured for Himself all the imaginable elements of happiness. But that condition of lone- liness which results from the absence of any equal, would leave something to be desired. On the other hand, the presence of equals, capable of becoming OUT OF SIGHT. 11 rivals, might introduce a cause of disquietude, or even end in a more disastrous war than that in wliich Michael was engaged. A Trinity in Unity, and a Unity in Trinity, solves the problem, and produces the absolute perfection of Divine beatitude. It is one thing, however, to observe, that, in this case, as in all others, the highest philosophy is in harmony with revelation; it is quite another to assert that to think thus of the Trinity confers a right to consign to eternal jDerdition those who unhappily think otherwise. Therefore the Quicunque Vult requires a corrective, when used in public wor- ship ; and nothing answers this purpose so well as the Sermon on the Mount, particularly that portion of it which informs us that the surest method of securing eternal condemnation for ourselves, is to hurl that dreadful threat at the head of our neighbours. And perhaps it would be well if some persons recollected, that, after all, the tenet of a Trinity in Unity is not a doctrine of Scripture in the strictest sense of the word doctrine ; in other words, it is not a plain statement of teaching like the text, " The Lord our God is one Lord." It is in fact only a dogma, that is, an opinion of uninspired 12 CROKS Y BREILA. men, derived from comparing, by the help of reason, one passage of scripture with another, and thus drawing a conclusion. It is obvious, that, under such circumstances, the absolute truth may be out OF SIGHT, although we believe that we see it. 'XiT'j'^T'HEN both alike are strange, the race, the laud, Xcr A distant -past is hard to understand ; And who can solve the present ? for behind Each action, great or little, lies a mind. The mind, a power invisible as air. Whose subjects feel their ruler everywhere ; Commanding still, although a traitorous kiss Too often prompts it to command amiss. A subtle force, minute, and yet intense. It binds the eye to blind obedience ; It coins from nerves, and tissues, and the rill Which ebbs and flows until the heart is still, Platonic prose, Anacreontic strains, And plans which master states, or win campaigns ; And at the last it wafts the bark to port. Or hurls it headlong where the mermaids sport ; But whence the wind, and how it comes, or goes, We dimly guess, its Maker only knows. ON THE EIGI. 13 'hJ^HE bearer of a heavy heart (^ Seeks the lost home, Not iu the forum nor the mart, Nor Papal Kome, Bat on the desert hills apart, Or ocean's foam. And some there be, who cai-ry grief They must not show, To valleys on the coral reef Where palm trees grow ; Or where the Alpine rose's leaf Peeps through the snow. And oft that ghastly bloodhound — care Which swift as wind Had dogged its victim everywhere, Has lagged behind When Champery and Chamossaire Had braced the mind. For there the summer morns, bedight With golden glow, Shed many a dazzling chrysolite Upon the snow, And snatch the living babe delight From the dead woe. 14 CROES Y BREILA. And if round Rigi, black with rain The storm-clouds lie, Whence swifter than the hurricane The lightnings fly, Which thunder- tongucd betray the i^aiu That rends the sky, The joy is deeper than before, Though we can see Nor Lucerne's undulating shore, Nor hill, nor tree, But surging, 'mid the tempest's roar, A vaporous sea. For then we learn, if clouds should hide The heart from day. That still upon their upward side The sunbeams play, Until the shades of eventide Steal them away. En ilTcmoriam— l^tnrtci JHoovc. ToTius Staffordiaj Archidiaconus ultimus. Quod potuit Solus, vis poterunt gemini. THE PEINCES OF EGYPT. 15 ^f^t pttnccs of iBggpt 'HEN floods of affliction o'er Christendom burst, A harbour awaiteth her, e'en at the worst ; And Truth, though ecHpsed, is ascending the height, Which rings with the songs of the children of light. Then why on the bountiful vale of the Nile Are glory and gladness forbidden to smile ? And why is she slave to an alien race. The vilest of vile, and the basest of base ? The promise is sure, and the anchorage nigh, But Egypt impenitent passeth it by. It is not for ever, it is not for long. The reign of oppression, of falsehood, and wrong — For out of the down-trodden land, from the scum Whose rulers are vassals, the Princes will come — The Princes of Egypt ! they enter, and lo ! The Day-star is spanning the clouds with a bow ■ From Noph and Taphanes to Zoan and No — And Pathros is ransomed, and Aven is bright With the rays of redemption. Away with the night ! Away with the famine, the plague, and the fear ! A greater than Joseph, than Moses is here ; Here, not as a babe with His mother, whose cheeks Still pale at the echoes of Bethlehem's shrieks. 16 CROES Y BREILA. But Lord of the earth, and the air, and the sea. He parts the red billows, the captives are free — For He is the Lamb of the Passover Night, The rock in the desert, the pillar of light. And scattering the people who glory in war, And breaking for ever the hammer of Thor, The Lord of Jeshurmi, with banner outspread, From earth and from ocean is calling the dead — And trumpets of Jubilee sound the release, The morning of triumph, the era of peace. PANET, my Janet, all nature is ringing With music divine, The lark, and the thrush, and the blackbird are singing Their Valentine ; Janet, my Janet, for ever be mine ! No, you will leave me, and wander a Maying Mabel and you, Dora and Beatrice, Valentine playing, Lilian too ; Janet, my Janet, then what shall I do ? THE VATICAN, 17 ^i)t T'attfan. c-y> N ground once watered by the Martyrs' blood '^cL^vj^- A palace stands beside the Tiber's flood ; 'Tis his who once was king, but king no more, Save for the few who hopefully adore. Upon the walls are pictures, which to own Might half console him for his vanished throne ; And one there is, which every eye enthralls. Such dazzling radiance down the canvas falls. Its subject a great conclave, on the left Is he, whom Victor of his crown bereft ; And round their Pio, fiUiug up the hall, Bishop, Archbishop, and Prince Cardinal. All eyes are fixed on him, for 'tis the hour To give the Church a foretaste of his power. Decreeing Mary's superhuman state, Like her Boy Lord, conceived immaculate ; And lo, that sunbeam on his upturned face, To deep emotion adds a deeper grace. And bids a future Vatican proclaim The full proportions of the Pontiff's fame, And to the earth the glorious tidings bring, That Eome's Archprelate is her faultless King. 3 18 - CKOKS Y BRKILA. Tlien must creation own that there is one Who reigns, the Viceroy of Jehovah's Son ? Odo, whose nnerring voice can supersede The future council, and tlie ancient creed ? One, to whose feet enquiring souls may fly, And hear unerring wisdom thus reply, • "I heed not reason, neither need you heed; Believe in mc — how simple is the creed ! — 'Twill free the troubled mind from every doubt, And guard the soul in Armageddon's rout ; What though a fallen Prince be free to bless Each fresh rebellion with a short success. The future, moulded by the Paraclete, Must lay its diadem at Peter's feet, And own that grace to save, and power to ban. Flows through my signet of the Fisherman." Since such dominion is assumed, 'tis wise The startling claim to weigh and scrutinize ; For if it rests upon the solid ground, A truth revealed, a principle profound, 'Tis ours to stand before a master dumb. And ow^n ourselves, and all things overcome. To this enquiry, a reply may be Drawn from thy guiding lore. Analogy. When the sun rises on the Arctic floe, The iceberg leaves its wilderness of snow ; THE VATICAN. 19 Strange forms are there, which lived in years gone by, Now doomed to tliaw, and thus to putrify ; But day by day its upward glories grow, While day by day its danger grows below. And though its towering height the truth may hide, Its shadows lessen every eventide ; Yet how eternal seems the pathless top, And what can turn its purpose ? What can stop ? The proud Threedecker, steering in the dark Sinks, while it strikes, and striking, leaves no mark ; Thus onward, crushing down the works of man, Floats o'er the deep that cold Leviathan. At last a rosy sunset, loth to leave. Plays round the summit on an autumn eve, But while a jubilant exulting throng Hails its gay presence with the Babel song, " Hosanna, Eock eternal, Triple crown," The giant totters, overturns, goes down. And thus at God's appointed time, will man Be freed for ever from the Vatican. 20 CEOES Y BREILA. ^^TE who would test the last of Eoyal Popes, Q^-^ Needs neither crucibles nor microscopes. The parts divide, a very Annas one, The other Count Ferretti's soldier son ; And how unlike the twain, how strange to see Both intertwined in seeming unity ; So strange, 'tis well to separate the two, To love the good, the evil to eschew, To hold the Petrine warp, yet hold aloof From the foul purple of the Papal woof. I saw him once, I heard his blessings fall On motley strangers in his Audience Hall, I felt the fascination of the smile Which hailed a swordsman from the rebel isle. And knelt to pray that he might ne'er perceive His curses homeward come to roost at eve. Might lay his pseudo-martyr's chaplet down, And wear the i^eniteut's enduring crown. — But of his other self, the banning Pope, A Christian child might cast that horoscope. "What then of him who petulantly hurled His howling curses' at a laughing world ? PIO NONO. 21 Who bade the voice of history be mute, And laid his axe on reason at its root ? Wrai?ped in his pompous, self-asserting pride, That Pope was fallen man personified ! 0n a %tfiool in Utt^ficUi. \/i Malthouse once, those souls it used to vex Who hate strong beer, and make it their chief trouble That imknown quantities of double X The ills of life, and all we see, will double. 'Tis now a School, let none its teaching mar, For education's alphabet a mess is, When Christians are content with treble E, And treble X the root of all excess is. ^-m^BM^ i*^- 22 CROKS Y BREILA. ^ ISctf)lc!)cm Ktrj)lL '^ST^EATH shall divide us, saidst thou, only y^:^ death." " No, Ruth, not even death," Thus Mara mused, At eve awaiting her, who, through the day. Had sought her meat from charity and God — And now the gleaner entered, laying down Her barley, 'twas an ephah, measuring which With glances quick, the elder woman smiled Her mute a^jproval, and the younger spake : " A king of men thy kinsman is, my mother ; And thus I crown him, not because his teams May plough a Sabbath's journey ere they turn To arch the glistening ridges ; but because A princely bearing, and a generous heart, In him uniting, waken loyal love ; You should have seen the sickles how they gleamed Around the heads of twice three hundred men, When he, this morn, with morning coming down The eastern slopes of Bethlehem, amid The bounteous harvest, walked its bounteous lord ; And oh, the shout which burst from every heart, A BETHLEHKM IDYLL. 23 ' Jehovah himmaukem ! ' 'Twas like the roar Of bridled waters, which the crosscut dams Tame into duteous turbulence ; but when He, who ennobling with true manliness His rustic mantle, half a Soldier looked, And half a Priest, but every inch a King, Bent down his lordly neck, and doubly blessed, Reciprocating benisons, replied, ' Jevaurcka Jehovah ! ' Then the shouts Rose louder than before, and old and young (I read it in their eyes) would fain have turned Those sickles into swords, and faced the world, Fighting for Boaz — How I envied him That passionate devotion ; aiid I thought, Such might have been my Mahlon, who is gone." Then Mara answered : " Once I heard it said. That human minds are dual, and that thought Flies swifter than the lightning, which can join With instantaneous line of jagged fire Arcturus to Orion, whence 'twas proved That time, and space, and mind, may be compressed Intensely, and the annals of the world So closely written as to lie within The compass of a moment. First I deemed That tale a fable, now I know 'tis truth ; . 24 CROES Y BBEILA, For while you spake, although I heard each tone, My other self was absent, living in The future, and before mine eyes was spread A tapestry of ages, many hued ; And through the pictures ran thy golden thread, Salvation for the faithful." Here Euth sighed, ' ' Alas ! I have no children, and my heart Is in the grave, and so that must not be." "Nay, listen first," Naomi answered, "ere You spill the joy which bubbles to the lip ; Your lord is Boaz. Nay, I saw you lie At his uncovered feet one autumn night, Alone with God and him, while in his bam He slept the sleep which health and innocence Inherit after toil, till midnight slept, Unconscious of your presence, then awoke To know that he must win your love, or die. Have I not touched you, Euth ? " " Ah me," she said, "It must not be, my heart is in the grave." But Mara, heeding not those mournful words, Although repeated, thus continued : " Next, I passed away from Bethlehem Ephratah To Ephes Dammim ; right and left there rose Those mountain peaks, defiant, opposite, \Vhich with alternate shadows veil the sun A BETHLEHEM IDYLL. 25 At Azekab and Shocoli ; on the slopes Of each there stood an armament arrayed For battle ; but unequally, for here Was panic dread, and there exulting pride ; Between them Elah lay, and every morn Far past the centre of that neutral ground A giant stalked, and blasphemous defied Oui- Israel. For forty days I heard That infamy repeated ; blushing heard, For none rebuked it ; but at length stepped forth, In answer to the challenge, one so calm, So brave, so confident, altbough withal So humble, that I longed to shield him from That mighty spear, which, like a weaver's beam, Dented the earth, each time the lord of Gath, To emphasize his curses, dashed it down ; But he, the hope of Judah — 'twas thy boy — Had better aid than I could briug, for when I looked again the son of Anak lay Piled on the gory ground, while from the trunk, His head dissevered, at a King and me, Grinned dead defiance impotent." Still Kuth, Although her soul to David's soul akin. Looked forth from eyes dilated, sighing said, " It must not be, my heart is in the grave." 26 CROES Y UKKILA. But lieecling not, or seeming not to heed, Naomi spake again, " Then years rolled on, Borne charged with joy, and more surcharged with woe, But all seen indistinctly through a haze, And when the sun broke forth, the royal race Of him who slew the giant, reigned no more ; But some upon our green Gennesaret Were fishers ; one, and he the chief of all, A carpenter at Nazareth ; yet not Unmindful of his royal father's home At Bethlehem, for there I saw him go. Obedient to an alien lord's behest. Leading his virgin wife, about to bear A son ; how dreary seemed the road across Those treeless hills, how cold the welcome ; room Was none for her, nor for her child, thine own, Save in a manger ; to His world He came, His world received Him not ; yet some there were To hail their Maker — Princes who had marked His star, a midnight sunrise, streak the east. So to the place, whereon it seemed to rest, Had wended pilgrims, bearing mystic gifts — Gold, frankincense, and myrrh ; and as they laid Those offerings down, I saw that Infant smile, While heavenly choirs sang circling round their King, A BETHLEHEM IDYLL. 27 ' Glory to God above, and on tlie earth Peace and good-will to men.'— That Babe must sprhig, Daughter, from thee," Here Mara paused, and Euth At length was moved, and felt the hope which soothed Repentant Eve, a leaping in her womb As though the child were there, Emmanuel ! Born to reconquer death ; but when her eyes To outward objects clearing, saw the face Of Mara watching hers, his mother's face, More eloquent than all her words, recalled The spectral past ; and so again she said, " It must not be, my heart is iu his grave." But heeding not, or seeming not to heed, Spake Mara once again : " The earth lay stretched Around me as before, the shrines of God Were there, or domed, as if to imitate The firmament, or turreted, and towered Like fortresses where truth might make a stand ; Or with attenuated pyramids Piercmg the clinging clouds, and to the heavens Aspu-ing ; but too oft the Word of God Was wanting, and the worshippers so cold. So absent, too ; for other were the thoughts 28 CROES Y BRKILA. Which istirrecl tlie nations, marrying (If unions unhallowed by God's laws Are marriages), or marketings of wares, Falser than aught, except the hollow weights. Which to the loaded scales lied brazen-faced. And next I saw the palaces of hell, Blazing on earth, from whence, afire with wine, Demoniacs self-demented, issuing. Keeled through a glaring labyrinth of streets, Down to a fetid stream, and wallowing, died. Oh, grievous sight ! but worse beyond it loomed ; For like as when along a sultry plain, A sudden whirlwind, shivering from the hills. Heralds the clouds ice-laden, and yet scarce Outstripped, so I could feel the chill of war Blighting the air ; and knew that war would come. Since they who smear their sceptres with the blood Of fellow-citizens enslaved, must try To daub then- blackness with the ruddier tints Of foreign victories. The thunderbolt Which should enfranchise or enslave a world Seemed imminent ; so imminent, that all Gazed fixedly upon the north, where piled Cloud upon cloud, impenetrably black. Mysterious might had throned itself. When lo ! Drowning the crash of. crushed battalions. A BETHLEHEM IDYLL. 29 Drowning all else, except the breath of prayer, A silver trumpet sounded in tlie east. And all was hushed ; the grip upon the neck Was paralyzed ; and yet the victim lay Prostrate ; for earth was quaking to its core, And thence the central and sulphureous heat Irradiating, in explosive mists. Was dissipating the deep seas, from which The drowned upstarted ; and the hurricanes Howling no more, died silently away, Breathed into risen myriads. Then might I Have talked with Adam, Abel, Abraham, With Miriam, and thy shepherd lad, who slew Goliath, but my longing eyes were fixed On those three graves, which, ere we left our land, Were decked with flowers autumnal. All I loved The most on earth were there, Elimelech, Mahlon, and Chilion too, and all were known ; Though that which was corruptible had changed To incorruption, that which mortal was, To immortaUty. Oh 1 who can tell The rapture of that meeting ? Who describe Those cadences, so marvellously sweet. Which into space illimitable bore The burden of their song ? * We praise Thee, Lord, We bless Thee, Son of God, and Son of Euth ! ' " BO CKOtS \ BKEILA. Here Mara ceased, and sighing now no more, Her daughter answered, " Mother, shall I hear My Mahlou's voice, and see his face again ? And shall he rise immortal, owing all His happiness to me ? Enough ; I yield." And so thenceforth upon the plough of faith, Ruth, tremulously stedfast, laid her hand. 0\x a 19tal in %f)tn^toMt Cijuvcftgartr. If o'er the dial glides a shade, redeem The time, for, lo it passes, like a di-eam; But if 'tis all a blank, then mark the loss Of hours unblessed by shadows from the Cross. (3n a ^ial in front of Sifttnstont l^tcaragc, Solis adit lux, Hie docet umbra Crux, Datur hora. Umbram addit nox, Hinc abit umbrae vox, Abit hora. Absit mora. Note. — Tliese dials, as shown in the frontispiece and vignette, are cruciform, and the cross serves both as the gnomon and the dial- plate. The latter inscription runs round an octagon cap, and at the foot are the following words, in Greek and Hebrew characters : — Oran didosi Stauros, outos heliou. Yehe ore. u^f %.^, Jf ^^< V SUN DIAL, IN FRONT OF SHENSTONE VICARAGE. see page so. IN TIIK DARK NIGHT. 31 Kn tt)t Elavil Nigljt. q^^l^OMING events east their shadows before ^cIXj them. So, at least, they say ; but happily these shadows are not drawn out distinctly until the evening. In this uncertainty there is mercy, and mercy which One — the One Who has allotted this blessing of ignorance to all other beings — did not, when He became man, secure for Himself But what a blissful possession would ignorance have been to Him ! What a comfort is it even to me who have no reason to expect any particular sorrows, or at all events none approaching to those that He endured. For, if the shadows of the dark future were visible in the sunshine of my present life, what a difference would this knowledge make to me ! To mention one point only, and that by no means the most important. Whilst I am writing this, my daughter Mabel is by my side — my Mabel, not yet eleven years old, as the Spanish Liberals once sung, when they believed in Isabel, now an Ex-Queen. Mabel, my ewe lamb, is by my side as usual; and I read in her eyes, I learn from her 32 CROES Y BRKILA. words, that I am everything to her. So I, who being her father, love her a thousand times better than she, being a child, can ever love me, am thankful and happy in her love. But how should I feel now, if I knew all that is to come to pass in reference to myself and her ? Without imagining anything dreadful — which I have no reason to ex^Dect — let us see what the future may probably have in store for both of us. In ten years I shall have lost many, perhaps all, my present friends, including her who is the truest friend of them all ; and I may have acquired none of any sort, certainly I shall have acquired none to take the place of those who call me by the nick-name of my boyhood. But Mabel by that time will be rich in friends, some of whom are likely enough to be thinking of assuming a relationship still more tender. Ten years hence I must not expect to be lit for much work, while Mabel will be in her full bloom. So, if she should be S2:)ared till then, she will have become more necessary to me than ever. In those dark days, I shall, perhaps be dependent upon the affectionate care of her whom I have reared in my bosom, and who is to me much more than the truest sister IN THE DARK NIGHT. 33 could be. But what shall I be to her ? I shall not be so much then as I am now. Shall I even be able to retain her in my home ? Should I not be compromising her happiness, and consequently my owai, by embarking on such an enterprise ? And if I were convinced that her own welfare depended upon her clinging to me, as Ruth clung to Naomi, would she not in all probability play the part of Orpah, and leave me with a kiss ? The truth is, that in those evil days to come, a rival is pretty sure to make his appearance, and also to supplant me in Mabel's heart. Some after- noon a young scapegrace will want to speak to me in my study, and he will tell me that my Mabel has consented to be his wife. He has only a Bungalow in Bombay to offer, or still worse, an Estancia on the Plate ; but then he has told her what her future life will be, and she is delighted at her prospects, and thinks that nothing could be more charming than roughing it in the Bush with Charley, and helping to reform him, poor fellow. Of course she is pleased with these ideas, for I have taken care that she should have no notion of the roughnesses of this world, and she has very 4 34 CROES Y BREILA. little conception of the sort of being a rake really is. So she will go away Avitli the happy man gladly ; and after that terrible day of her marriage, that day when everybody will have ofi'ered to me their jovial congratulations, and I shall have been so miserable, I shall never see the face of my darling, my firstborn, again on earth. All this, or something like this, or possibly something much worse than this, may take place. But I don't know that it will take place ; and because nothing is certain, I, who rarely look forward, and have no desire to meet sorrows half- way, am contented and happy. For the present moments are very enjoyable. I believe in my little daughter, and I lose no opportunity of showering down on her head the abimdance of my love. I am grateful also for many other blessings, but especially grateful when I think that I know nothing beyond the present day. But then how do these considerations cause me to feel for Him who knew all things, for Him who was emphatically — Prudens futuri temporis exitum. There lived One, who, during the thirty-three years of His mortal existence, foresaw with fear- IN THE DARK NIGHT. 35 fill distinctness all which was ever to happen, not only to Himself, but also to those about Him. And how terrible must that foreknowledge have been ! Loneliness, ingratitude, ignominy, agony, death ! All of these were coming, and every one of them held in its hand a cup of bitterness, which had, for a great end, to be drunk to the dregs. There was a day when Jerusalem hailed Him as the heir of that heroic king, who had been the most renowned of earth's autocrats. On that day excited crowds strewed palm branches on His path, and a people, crushed down with suffering, accepted Him as a Saviour and a Monarch. It was an hour of triumph, no doubt ; but the same ears which caught the sound of the Hosannas, cauo-ht also, and at the same moment, the echoes of the execrations which were to be poured forth so soon. And hear what He said, not indeed on this occasion, but on another hardly less happy, to all appearance — " Do ye now believe ? The hour is coming, and now is, when ye will leave Me alone." Truly that Man was the Man of sorrows ; for He was acquainted with the grief of the past, of the present, and of the future also. We must thank God for giving us that bright light of His 8G CROES Y BKKILA. Gospel, which arose out of" this sea of atiiiction ; but we shoukl also not foi-get to thank Him for surrounding us, in other respects, with the shadows and the darkness of that night which He, by reason of His omniscience, could not enjoy. ^HE Ruler of a ravaged ruined State Sighed out, in lonely sadness, "God is great," Then meekly yielded to his bitter fate. His victor paid his thanks to God and man By kissing Mary's image, the Kasan. Which had the faith — the Turk or Russian ? STAMBOUL FOR ITALY. 37 ^tamljoul for Ktalg. ^ BEAT CONSTANTINE, lie looked around The world which owned his rule ; And by the Dardanelles he found Its key, and corner-stone — and crowned Imperial Stamboul. And still her ocean river flows Two continents between, Still on her hills the m}T.-tle grows, And still her vales are green ; But now, exhausted by the throes Which coming dissolution knows, Is the black Euxine's Queen. Then, since the pride of Islam droops, Doomed by its dee-p self- scorn, Must we be still, while Eussia stoops Upon the Golden Horn ? No ! though they fail us at the pinch, "Whom once we helped to free ; Though one may snarl, and one may flinch, And one exhausted be, As at Vittoria, inch by iuch We'll wm the mastery. 38 CROES Y BREILA. Win ! and for what ? That hour by hour Imperious impotence may shower Its curses on the guardian Giaour ? Win ! and for what ? That sword and gun May end the bloody work begun Amid the yells of Lebanon ? Win ! and for what ? That lust may build Its new kiosk, its harem gild, For this shall England's blood be spilled ? No ! not for this ; once, only once, Could charity forget The code of Islam ; e'en the dunce Learns something from regret. Down with the Sultan ; 'twould be worth An hour of glorious dangers To free the fairest spot on earth From those who stamp its vales with dearth, And mock its shrines with scornful mirth, And use its fonts for mangers. They have not ploughed, they have not spun ; But like voracious maggots, Right to the core their way have won ; And now the feast is almost done, The fruit trees turned to faggots, Down with them ; down ! and up with — whom ? Whose form shall fill the vacant room, STAMBOUL FOK ITALY, 39 When Bey aud Pacha meet their doom ? The heir of Stamboul thou must he, Home of the C^sars — Italy. Itaha ! at thy glorious name All rivalry recedes for shame; Mother of heroes ! who can show Such children as thine own ? Camillus, Fabius, Scipio, So great they would not deign to go, One step towards a throne, On which their brethren, less divine, Sate godlike, Julius, Constantine ; Nor those alone ; for when the world Its rotten crowns to chaos hurled. And drunk with fiery draughts of war, The eagles of the tricolor O'er sullen Moscow shone. Whom hailed they Lord of King aud Czar ? Italia's child, that dazzling star, The Great Napoleon ! And who, when he was forced to own His dreapas of triumph vain ; Who, when he flew to guard a throne Which rested on his might alone, Who seized the broken rein ? Who stayed to nerve the Gaul's retreat 40 CROES y KRKILA. Tlirougli fog and hiUTicaiic and sleet, Across those dreary wastes, whereon Swarmed the avengers from the Don, The Ural, and Ukraine ? Not thine, brave Prince of Moskowa, Nor thine " advanced guard King," Murat, Of Austerlitz and Areola The spirit to retain ; But first in rallies and attacks. And last to yield and turn their backs, And gayest at cold bivouacks. Were they of Kome and Latium, Of Umbria and Samnium, The rearguard with Eugene ! Nurse of the brave in days gone by, Thy heart is still the same ; Oppressors could not drain it dry, Nor anarchists inflame. And if, of yore, his Eome to save, A hero leaped his steed Right down that deep sepulchral cave, "Which closed upon the deed,^ Did not the band which freed the land The race of Curtius know, Cavour and Garibaldi ; and II Re galantuomo ? A BURNIXG QUESTION. 4 1 Tlien never fear, tliy way is clear, The night is past, the morn is here ; Hail, empire of the free ! Down with the Sultan and his line, Up with the heirs of Constantiue ! Stamboul for Italy ! it iSttvntus €tucst(on. e 0F burning questions, newest lights, Of labour's wrongs, and woman's rights, Brimful is Go-ahead ; He burns his fingers when he writes, And in the burning thought delights Of burning when he's dead. Zf)t lEastluavSj position. Our Eastward turning Priests are good, or bad, as people view them ; The question is, can people see, or can they not see through them ? 42 CROES Y BKEILA. UT of licr bed, on the right side leaped -c^o^ My Lily, my loveable daughter ; And giving no trouble to any one, stept Straight into her tub of cold water. And she rubbed herself down while her sisters were dressed, Who happened that day to be tartars ; While Lily, of good little girls was the best, The pink of all nursery parterres. Then she prayed to the Lord, and she prayed with her heart, Her innocent wishes arraying, And as she had chosen, like Mary, her part, Like Mary was blest in her praying. At breakfast, how haj^py, how thankful was she, Although the toast only was dripping ; , And then she tripped off — oh, hoAV blest we should be. If a fall never followed such tripping. ON THE WKONG SIDE. 43 (3n ti)t mtvoxxQ Sttrt. oi UT of her bed, ou tlie wrong side crept, i^ My Lily, my petulant daughter ; And stamping and frowning, she fretted and wept, And she deluged the house with hot water. She would not be washed, and she would not be dressed, And snatched at her stockings and garters ; And Janet, for sympathy, screamed, and the rest Of the family party were martyrs. And she prayed with her hps, it was playing a part, And the soul was the worse for her praying ; For while she was saying, " Our Father, which art," She hardly knew what she was saying. At breakfast, she flooded the butter with tea. The loaf with her porridge was dripping; And so the meal ended, at last, with a flea In her ear ; for I gave her a whipping. 44 CROES Y UHEIT.A. 'HEN morning clouds are hanging low, And songs are in the air ; Although we see them not, we know The larks are hovering there. When hazy skies at noon-day glow With summer's sultry glare ; Although we see them not, we know The bright cold stars are there. When aspen leaves wave to and fro, Pale supj)liants for God's care ; Although we see them not, we know The winds of Heaven are there. Then may this faith within us grow By grace and earnest prayer ; Till, though we see Him not, we know That God is everywhere ! i*oPE. 46 JHE new-born babe who in tlie cradle lies, br^ As yet for joy or grief has little scope ; Yet may we oft-times mark the wondering eyes Kindle with hope. And hope thus strangely born in earliest years, Before our earthly cares have well begun, Strives on with mocking doubts and selfish fears, Till life be done. Friendship and love fly off on drooping wdngs, And youthful pleasure ripens into pain ; But on the ebbing sands of life, the springs Of hope remain. And when the toiling hand and troubled heart Are laid beneath the Churchyard's sacred sod, Hope rises thence for man's immortal part, A hope in God. Then let us seek, ere in the grave we lie, That hope in Christ, by penitence and prayer ; For hope to those who unforgiven die, Turns to despair. i6 CROES Y BREILA. ^HERE is a secret which we must not own, Except to one who is the counterpart; Yet, while its heavy weight is borne alone, It rankles like a cancer in the heart. And thus it was with Hugh, until his brain Was well-nigh frenzied with the hope deferred ; And when the day-dream lived 'twas all in vain, He might not speak the long-forbidden word. So have I seen a swallow day by day, Which sought some sheltered corner for her nest. Still forced by cruel destiny away, Ere her pink eggs grew warm beneath her breast. And when at length she found among the eaves A little nook beyond the spoiler's hand, Amid the rustling of autumnal leaves. Came her strange summons to another land. It was no time for her to build her home, No time to dream of sweet maternity ; The voice was in the air which bade her roam Beyond the dreary, the mysterious sea. HOPE DEFERRED. 47 Yet liaply as she winged lier destined flight To some greeu harbour in the West, her tongue Outpoured the smgle love which once she might Have shared between lier partner and her young. So when this world is riven like a scroll, And on its wreck is built Eternity, The re-embodied, immaterial soul, May taste of joys which here must never be. And fitting words to some angelic strain The one great secret of existence tell, Secure that love will not be breathed in vain. Nor mar the joy of one beloved too well. ^ Stolen Itiss. Our Vicar loves to kiss his pretty stole ; 'Tis well for him we deem it not amiss, For the Divine should keep in due control The human longings for a stolen kiss. 48 CKOES Y BKKII.A. bp ttjc mttu. Q^ N tlie country which all the civiUsed worhl (^ calls by the name of Holy — in spite of the state of degradation into which it has fallen — a Avoman was returning to her home one evening. She had been to the well which supplied the city where she lived ; and from it she was bearing, in a jntcher, the water required for the supper of a churlish and penurious, but rich husband. Wonder and awe seemed engraven on her coun- tenance, in lines which were not likely to be obliterated ; yet traces of a strange indefiuable joy, might occasionally be seen passing across that face, like the ripples with which a gust from the sur- rounding mountains streaks the dark depths of Gennesaret. And sometimes aloud, yet still more often in a whisper, she repeated these words, " He told me all that ever I did." " Told you all that ever you did, Marah ! " cried one of her female neighbours, who over- heard this strange refrain. " ' Told you all that ever you did ! ' Who has told you everything, BY THE WELL. 49 or indeed anything about yourself, which all of us have not heard often ? What have you ever done Avhich we don't know ? You married old Barjonas, a stingy fellow, who is rich enough to keejD slaves to wait on you ; but he loves his money better than he loves anything else, except perhaps his evening meal. You would marry him, you know ; because your dowry was lost when that accursed Herod sacked Migdol. You would not have poor Nathan, of Shimron, and now he has gone away, nobody knows where. You could not make up your mind to marry him, because he was not likely to keep you in idleness, which you — a Prince's daughter — loved better than you loved him. And that was your reason also for slighting Manasses, my poor brother, who died of a sunstroke in the barley harvest ; died, because he wanted to show you how strong he was, and therefore, how well able to protect you. Nor would you listen to Judas, of Galilee, who joined the army of the vassal king, the slave- monarch of Egypt, and fell fighting in Goshen ; nor silly Simon either, who used to carry your pitcher from the well, in spite of our jeers; 5 50 CROKS Y HRKILA. nor that other one, I forget his name, and all about him ; but, I know that you have broken the h(>arts of five brave men. And what good have 3'ou done to yourself after all ? However, the old usurer is your husband, and you have to obey hira, though you can't love him." All this was too true, Marah had hoped to escape the drudgery of life, by her marriage, and had been disappointed. She had, in fact, incurred slavery without acquiring any recompense in return. But Barjonas, much as she abhorred him now, was her husband. Her husband ! At least she had thought that he stood in that hallowed relationship towards her until that day. Now she knew that the wretch was not, in reality, her husband. Five times in succession had she given her heart, an honest heart it once was, receiving a faithful and true heart in return ; on each of these occasions she had been wedded in the sight of the ever-present God. She had had five husbands. The sixth time she had been wedded with much pomp and cere- mony in the sight of man, but then she was not married at all in the sight of God. She had given her heart before, and each time a merciful God had hallowed the union. She had sold her BY THE WELL. 5 1 body the sixth time*, and no amount of religious celebrations could ever hallow that unholy allinnce. A wife she now was in some sort, but a true wife no longer to anybody ; for her live husbands were in their graves, killed each one of them by her. The Stranger at the well, the man with the marred yet Godlike face, had sounded the depths of her soul. He had, indeed, told her all that ever she did. That Stranger was Jesus of Nazareth, Who speaks to us all through our conscience, and to some, who stand high in this world, the voice is as startling and as suggestive as it was to the woman BY THE WELL. 52 CROES Y BKEILA. mjc SStittjcvctf iEtsjlttoc. °^0U ask me, lady, if this leaf Is sacred to a joy or grief ? Thus spoke a soldier. Lord Alaine, Then turned away, as though he fain Would leave her thus, and go ; But Edith said, "Some happy fair Plucked it for thee, and hence your care Of that dead misletoe — " She, laughing, ceased ; and he replied, " Thou art too fair to be denied, And fate will have it so. Then hear my tale, which hopes to earn Not even pity in return." ®i ... fleft an only sister, when across the wnitry main We hurried at Sir Arthur's call to fight the French in Spain ; And it chanced as we were riding o'er the dying and the dead, When Marmont's rent hattalions from Salamanca fled. There came above the mingled yells, the trumpet, and the drum, My sister's voice, in pleading tones, it whispered, " Edgar, come I " II THE WITHEEED MISLETOE. 53 And little did I tarry when they gave me leave to go, By day and night I travelled, and the swiftest horse was slow ; For across the wasted cornfields, and above the city's hum, There sighed the same mysterious voice, still whispering, ' ' Brother, come ! " They must have deemed me maddened when, in passing o'er the sea, Amid the band which carried home the news of victory, I walked along the crowded deck, in sUence, and apart. With an eye which gazed on vacancy, and a foreboding heart. And when amid a thunderstorm, the dreary sounds were heard Of the creaking of the cordage, and the tempest-boding bird, I heeded not the hurricane, for in its wildest might, When it wrestled with the angry waves on that disastrous night — There was the same low wailing moan, that murmur of unrest, Which first I heard amid the guns on La Cabanas crest. At length the wished-for morning dawned, and Dover's cliffs were seen, 54 CROES Y BEEILA. "Which guard the home of liberty, the ocean's Emprest Queen ; Bat not the sailors' happy cheers, nor the huzzaing | town, Could keep that voice of boding, that lamentation down. At length I reached my own old home, it seemed untenanted, But there lay a living skeleton, my sister on her bed. " Look up, dear Mary, I, Alaine, am come to thee," I cried ; "And art thou here at last," in tones reproachful, she replied ; " Then I will tell thee all my grief, 'tis well that you should know, For you will place within my grave this withered misletoe." She spoke, and slowly opening the foldings of her vest, There lay a branch of misletoe upon my sister's breast. I shuddered, for an early death, or else a hfe of pain Had been the lot of all who bore our hapless name, Alaine, If they dared to touch a single leaf of that mysterious bough, Which on my dying sister's heart was madly cherished now. " My Mary, cast our curse away," in agony I cried. 4 THE WITHERED MISLETOE. 55 " First hear me, Edgar, ere you blame," the weeping girl replied. Thus rau her tale : " You left your home, aud scarce a mouth had passed, When Alice died, our faithful nurse, my best friend and my last ; But fortune seemed awhile to smile, for a kinsman, Lord of Bray, To whom our sire committed us upon his dying day — With a letter full of kindly words, a trusty servant sent To offer me a home with him ; there thankfully I went. And merry was that summer in the old Grange of Boclere, For the gayest and the bravest loved to loiter by my chair. At length the winter brought the yule, and all the grateful earth Was clad in white to celebrate its Lord's, the Saviour's bu'th ; Aud every heart was full of joy, but none so full as mine, For I was pledged to dance that night with Edward Argentine. He wore a branch of misletoe conspicuous on his breast, And 80 did all within the hall, 'twas the Lord Bray's behest ; 56 CEDES Y BREILA. But I had vainly strived to twine its dark leaves in my hair, My hand refused the ill-omened deed, I could not place them there. He saw, and whispered, ' Mary, dear, this must not, shall not be, Then take a leaf of misletoe and wear it, 'tis from me; For only thus, and always thus, an Ai-gentine, 'tis said, Must woo a maiden to his side, if he would blithely wed.' Then who may tell the maddening thoughts which raged within my soul. There was the tide of wild delight, too turbid for control ; But there rose before my swimming eyes the pale form of my nurse, And there rung within my startled ears — Alaine's enduring curse. But I took the gift he offered, and I sunk upon the floor, Amid the dance, in deadly trance, my dream of joy was o'er ! For suddenly the music ceased, and through the crowded hall Bung out discordant, jarring sounds — I understood them all— THE WITHEKED MISLETOE. 57 There was my Edward's voice of love, recalling me to life, In accents full of kindness, as his darling, as his wife ; As yet unheeding the loud taunts, which I, alas ! could mark, The brutal threats, too soon flung back, of Adrian von Starke. ' Mein Gott,' he cried, ' and have you dared for a village maiden's tear To shght my sister Margaret, when Adrian is here ; But if a Swabian countess must be jilted for this girl, A challenge at your perjured head. Lord Argentine, I hurl ! ' In part a dream, this might have been, but when I lived again, Blood had been shed. Count Adrian lived, my Edward had been slain." Here Edgar paused, then sighing said, " The end is neariug now, What Argentine to Mary was, Edith, to me art thou. Now listen ; on a Christmas Eve beneath a tree we stood. An old oak tree, Augustine's tree, the patriarch of your wood ; How came we there, and thus alone, did I mean to speak the word ? 58 CROES Y BEEILA. A raven broke the silence, how you started as yon heard — But I hailed the happy omen ; for a raven marked the shield Of the Alaine on Crecy's plain, and Towton's bloody field. Again it croaked, revealing where it nestled overhead, Then through the branches crashed the shot, the raven fell stone dead ; And gun in hand, Count Adrian came, the man I most abhorred, The slayer of my sister's heart, your bosom's chosen lord. And you remember not, it seems — but I shall ne'er forget How, when I strangled for your sake the rapture of a threat. You pressed my hand, you gave me this, you turned with him to go, I placed it in my breast, although I knew 'twas misletoe. Then darkness closed around me, and the snow was falling fast, And spirits of my hapless race came riding on the blast. There was the skin-clad mountain chief, the first, the worst Alaine, THE WITHERED MISLETOE. 59 Who bore upon his brow a mark, for he had killed hke Cain — Had killed to win the wily smile, and pamper the revenge Of a beautiful idolatress, the witch-wife of Stouehenge. And placed the Druid's hateful badge, the mis-begotten tree Upon God's altar, on the eve of the Nativity. And there was some I knew not, but there was one I knew. The victim of her fatal love, as beautiful as you ; She stood beneath the oak, she stroked the raven's glossy head. And pointing to that bleeding breast, my spectre sister fled. Here Edgar stopped, then added, " Now farewell, Count Adrian's bride, For I must die, yet not be laid by my poor sister's side." He fell ; and though before his time, he had not lived in vain. For on a heap of Chasseurs killed, green Chasseurs of Tom-aine, Hard by the Farm of Hougoumont lay the Brigadier Alaine, And the fatal gash, the sabre slash, which laid that soldier low, Cut through a leaf, a little leaf, of withered misletoe. 60 CEOES Y BREILA. l3voluuttr. r^OUND drowned! Qli grief profound ! Oh verdict hard to bear by those who weep, Beside the deep, O'er loved ones cast ashore in death's grim sleep. Long drowned ! Yet never found ! Oh harder still to mourn the loved, for whom Earth has no tomb, Whereon tlie asphodels of Easter bloom. But found Will be the drowned, The tombless drowned, when the lone trumpet's blast Eeveals at last The secrets of the future, and the past. ILL SUCCESS. 61 Ml Success, Trr^TEECK of a coufident lioije, the bravest can hardly ^!^y' endure it ; Hardly endure it at morn, when the life-boat is soonest refitted ; Hardly live through it at eve, the eve of a lingering autumn, When on a plentiful field, too ready to welcome the reapers, Pelts the chill pitiless hail, till it thrashes the corn in the furrows ; But the worst downfall is his, whose anathemas home- ward returning, Like the foul boomerang, aim at the impotent Annas who hurled them. ■^^l^^&~ 62 CROKS Y BREILA. (Midler). SLOGAN, like tbc thuudor's roar, The clash of swords, or waves ashore, The Rhine ! the Ehine ! the Germau Rhine ! Who guards that stream in battle line ? Be calm, dear Fatherland of mine, The watch stands stedfast on the Rhine. Through tens of thousands runs the cry, And brightly flashes every eye ; The Germans, gentle, brave, and pure, That holy landmark will secure — Be calm, dear Fatherland of mine, The watch stands stedfast on the Rhine. And though my spirit death should tame. Thou shalt not bear the Frenchman's name ; Rich as in waters is thy flood. So Deutschland is in heroes' blood. Be calm, dear Fatherland of mine. The watch stands stedfast on the Rhine. THE RHINE WATCH. 68 So gazing heavenward, where at rest His sires look down, heroic, blest, He swears with loud chivalrous cry, Rhine shall be German, as will I. Be calm, dear Fatherland of mine. The watch stands stedfast on the Rhine. The oath rings out, the waters flow, Flags flutter, where the breezes blow ; The Rhine ! the Rhine ! the German Rhine ! We all will guard thee, all be thine. Be calm, dear Fatherland of mine. The watch stands stedfast on the Rhine. 04 CROES Y BREILA. ^ET gladness span grief's overflow," ■^^ God speaks, and lo ! 'tis done; The rain must show its latent bow, If He unveils His sun. 'Twas thus, when from Megiddo's fray, Sore smitten to the marrow, The Son of Amon bore away Mizraim's fatal arrow ; For then by Accho's crescent shore, By bitter waters rolling o'er The foulness of Gomorrha; By Hermon's Hill, and Succoth's vale, Arose the Hadadrimmon wail, A hurricane of sorrow. On Merom and on Chinnereth, The fishers in their ships Drew near to shore, and held their breath. With pale and parted lips ; The herdsmen on Tekoah's plains, Unyoked their oxen from the wains. And stood in mute despair ; Then "All is lost, all lost" they said, HULDAH. 69 And left tlie bending rye to slied Its over-ripened grain, and fled Tliey knew not, recked not, where. O'er Bethlem's Bills the untended sheep Went wandering, wild, and scattered, The shepherds only cared to weep, For hope was dead, what mattered ? What mattered all the world might take, Their love, their grief it could not shake ; What mattered all the world might give, It could not bid their monarch live. So, winding sackcloth round their serge. His sorrowing people sang the dirge Of their anointed Lord, Their Lord who lay beyond the reach Of gentle or ungentle speech, Asleep beneath the sward. For him they mourned, and Huldah led Josiali's burial song, With tongue that trembled, heart that bled, And ashes sprinkled on a head Bent down with anguish strong. Alas for Huldah ! she had known That sorrow many a day. Had heard it wail around the throne, 70 CUOES Y BREILA. And gone to meet it, she alone, With boding heart, half-way ; Had heard it in the mingled yell Of wrath, and grief, when Anion fell, To luurderous traitors sold ; Had heard it in the shouts of joy, Which greeted Anion's royal boy, A king at eight years old. Amid the clattering of the steel, The charger's neigh, the trumpet's peal, The pattering of men's feet ; Amid the bustle, and the hum, The tabret, dulcimer, and drum, From housetop, porch, and street, That ghost-like presence whispering came, And ever changing, yet the same : Above the blessing of the priest, Above the uproar at the feast, Above the coronation strain. It rose, and fell, and rose again. Nor, if at times 'twould seem to pass, Like shadows, fading from a glass O'erelouded by a breath. Could Judah's prophetess forget That all around her, lingerin^^' yet, HULDAH, 71 "Were auguries of death ; • Aud well she kuew that each reprieve Must hid her heart, coudeinned to grieve,. Grieve more, and ever more ; For 'twas a tide which hemmed her in, That full spring tide, which faiu would win A broader belt of shore ; The farther rolled the ebbing sound, The nearer, at the next rebound, Flowed up its threatening roar. Aud so the fate, which dogged the King, "Was in the hammer's cheery ring ; The destiny athirst for blood Was in the mallet's weary thud, When stone and timber, fitting well, Upreared his royal citadel. His holy house of prayer ; It seemed to mingle with each breath, And taint the springs of life with death ; To modify on every side Each tone, itself unmodified ; Anon, 'twas piteous, as the cry Of some poor leveret, Which sees the supple weasel nigh, - And blindly leaping, loath to die, 7'2 CROES Y BREII.A. Falls backward, jjowerless to fly, Aud writhing in the net : Anon, 'twas like the fernowl's screech, Anon, the struggling after speech. When frenzy stirs the dumb : She could not catch the words, but still 8he knew their import boded ill, And that the blow must come. Nor, when to learn their country's fate The Lords of Judah went, And flocking round her Mishneh gate, Poured forth their discontent : Could Huldali hope to still their dread, Or bid their grief be comforted ; But hers to in'ophesy of woe, A charge, a crash, an overthrow ; A flying chariot hurrying out - A wounded monarch fi'om a rout ; An arrow keen, and barbed ; a cry x\s w4ien the first-boni woke to die ; And then a little pause ; and then Another muster of armed men ; Another charge, a flight, a slaughter ; And high above the din The ghostly voice of Laban's daughter. HULDAH. Bewailing Benjamin ; And then a street where cattle grazed ; A temple sacked, polluted, razed ; A loathsome trench that served for graves ; A people, captives, exiles, slaves ; A row of harps, and all tinstning. On willows by Euphrates hung ; Such were the scenes of which she spake, And yet she said, " This message take, This comfort to your chief ; Tell him, that ere his heart has known The ills which crush a falling throne, A starving people's insults rude, A courtier's sleek ingratitude ; He, with his noble form unbowed, With look so lofty, yet not proud ; He, with the music of a tongue. Which guides the old, and charms the young ; With ample brow, unwrinlded still, And hand, unmatched for strength and skill, With soul on mighty projects bent, And buoyed on depths of calm content, And fulness of belief ; Shall snap the cords of fate, and free His richly-freighted argosy, And spread its silvery sails, and find 74 CROES Y BREILA ' Tlie breeze, wliich leaves tlie clouds behind, And anchor, where the troubled wave Is calmed at once — a soldier's grave." But though she knew for him 'twas best To leave the world, and be at rest ; Yet, when Megiddo's fight was o'er, And Kislion, foul Avith dust, and gore, Flushed seaward, iu the snow-wliite spray- To wash dishonour's stain away ; A sorrow, darker in its hue Thau she had dreamed of, pierced her through ; She could have borne to see him die. Had triumph fired l^is glazing eye ; But thus to fall ! that Amou's son Should perish", serving Babylon ! And hated Egypt strike the blow, Which laid the Lord of Judah low ! This was a burden hard to bear. What marvel then if her despair Broke into strains she could not stem, A wild, impatient requiem — To see ! to know '! ^ ^ What is it Vmt to welcome woe ? In Eden it was even so. HULDAH. 75 God said to Eve, " Thine eyes are open, thou must leave This happy garden ; See \ and grieve ! " 'Twas thus with me, A prophetess I fain would be. And I have been — of misery. Long, long ago, I saw the world in deadly throe, And evil breaking from below. I saw it all, The flight of arrows, and the fall, The deathbed, and the funeral. And yet, poor slave ! My hero king I could not save, Nor turn him from his open grave. Then happy they. Who only see from day to day Their little portion of life's way. Who onward go To fiery mountains capped with snow ; And reach, and scale them, ere they know. For why ? 'tis gi-een Beneath their footsteps, and unseen Those distant hills, those depths between. 7G - CROES Y BEEILA. Therefore to know, What is it but to welcome woe ? For me, for him, it has been i90. She ceased, and to lier ears once more That whisper came, as heretofore ; Yet not as heretofore, for then 'Twas like the cry of stifled men, Deep in the miner's dangerous hive Interred, and hopeless, though alive; But now 't^Yas like a bugle tone, Upon some Alpine summit blown, Which, mingling with the mountain breeze, High o'er the tops of giant trees. Speeds on in unimpeded flight To yon ice torrent opposite ; And thence returns in circles wide, By echo's magic multiplied. Weird, shadowy sounds, which seem the lay Of heavenly minstrels, far away. Weep not for him. The eye thou deemest closed, and dim, Is gazing on the Cherubim. Nor grieve that he Was conquered ; dost thou fail to see What seemed defeat, was victory ? HULDAH. 77 Nor he alone Of Kings, the heirs to Judah's throne, For Judah's Kfe must give his own ; The Good, the Just, The Christ, in whom the Angels trust, Must thus be humbled to the dust. Dying, must feel The thorn, the nail, the spearman's steel. And tread on death with bleeding heel. Then happy they, Who see beyond the present day. And know the ending of their way ! For such are blest : God ordereth all things for the best ; So welcome toil, and welcome rest. Each may be gain ; Each joy His sunshine, and each pain, His furrow, glistening with His rain ; But farewell fear, To God's elect it comes not near, Their life begins when death is here. 78 CROES Y BREILA. Breathless she stood, and listening, but tlie voice Was mute, which bade the mourner's heart rejoice, Its work complete ; for as, while all was dark, Au Angel wrestled with the Patriarch, Yet left that tired one iit the dawn, and blessed The ended struggle, and the endless rest. So light on Huldali broke, and light sufficed To clothe her world with verdure, for 'twas Christ. Efjc ittng's jFtast. p^OPi all a Kingly Feast is spread, %/^ For all who come, a Eoyal dress, The Feast, a Saviour's Wine and Bread ! The garb, His perfect Holiness ! How fares he then who turns away. Thus called by God to be His guest ? If we reject Him all the day. Shall we with Him at midnight rest ? A PICTURE BY DORE. 79 M picttivc iJP ^oxt. o^ ijT^O! how the haud of Dore has portrayed '■^^ The suffering soul by faith victorious made, lu the huge shambles which Vespasian planned, The streams of human blood have dyed the sand. 'Tis night, the crowd has gone, its hideous howls No longer drown the bounding tiger's growls ; A horrid night ; for still the full-fed beast Snarls loud defiance, tearing at its feast. But o'er the seats, which tier on tier arise, Like a dark hill against the starlit skies. Descending angels winged with love, are come To raise the dead, whose death was martyrdom — A noble end, and yet a joyous yell Went up from thousands, when each Christian fell ; Then what infringement of Imperial laws Had doomed their bodies to the lions' jaws ? How had they sinned, who perished side by side. So young, so fair, that bridegroom and his bride ? Wealth had been theirs, a long ancestral line, A stately homestead on the Palatine ; A name revered for worth without pretence, And looks which spoke of happy innocence ; 80 CROES Y BREILA. "What clouds had darkened their meridian sun, What treason planned, or sacrilege begun ? Their crime was love, a love for Christ their Lord, His perfect love their infinite reward ; And yet across their peril had been laid An easy bridge, the path attractive made ; For this the choice, "to Venus incense give, Those grains of blissful incense, and ye live ; Eefuse this adoration, and ye die." "Then die we will," their resolute reply; " There is one God alone, yet not alone, Whose triple presence fills His single throne ; In Him we tiust, and though the world be dark, Christ is the bow of promise, and the ark." Oh, mighty power of faith, a power above The dread of death, the ecstasy of love ; They who in weakness are made strong by Thee, Fall, if they fall, achieving victory. AN EVENING COMMUNION. 81 )WAS sunset, over sky and hill Those lingering rays were shed, Which, like true glory's haloes, still Tell of a Day-star dead. And night's funereal mantle grew More wide in fold, more deep in hue ; And glad were they, a weary twain, Their hostelry at length to gain. He who had joined them, seemed as though On through the darkness bent to go ; But will He leave them then, and thus ? '•Ah, no," they said, "Abide with us. Abide with us, since on the eve The night is trenching fast ; Abide, and aid us to believe That all the fearful past Will bring this guilty world's reprieve, And end in joy at last." Their prayer was granted ; when was prayer Addressed in vain to Him ? Or, while He fought with sin and death Upon the hills of Nazareth ; 7 82 CEDES Y BREILA, Or HOW, that He had gone to share A crown, beyond this world of care, Between the Cherubim. Nor was His head in silence bent, With an unwilling half consent ; But kindly voice, and gracious w^ord, Eevealed the joy with which He heard ; And yet their eyes were dim — They knew Him not, Who spoke to them Of Jesus and Jerusalem. Then entered Christ that hostel's door ; 'Twas full, as thirty years before Had been the inn, when Mary bore Her Child, upon the manger floor At lowly Bethlehem ; Like waifs upon an angry shore, None welcomed Him, or them. But soon the supper, duly spread. Was on the table, wine, and bread ; Then broke the Guest their barley cake, And said, " Keceive it for My sake," Aud vanished, while He gave. They gazed enraptured ; at their side Had stood their Lord, the Crucified ! Arisen from the grave ! AN EMSNING COMMUNION. 83 But had He left them iu that hour, When, Hke an Aaron's rod, Their tree of Kfe burst into flower, An oHve tree of God ? No, He was there, though lost to view ; As when, uprising from the dew, The songster of the sky Eains down melodious raptures over That spot, where, half concealed by clover, Peers forth a watchful eye; For though the swelling quivering throat Of him, above the clouds afloat, She may not hope to mark ; Yet, while that soaring pilgrim sings, Though all around be dark, A heaven, amid his carollings, Dawns on the brooding lark. Then shall we say 'tis vain to seek The ever-living Word ? Or that petitions, pure and meek, By Jesus are unheard ? No, wheresoe'er His people meet, Or in religion's calm retreat, Or in the ship at sea, S4 CROES Y BREILA. There, with the Blessed Paraclete, Dispensing grace is He. He deigns His symbol to impress Upon the infant's head ; He comes, the marriage feast to bless, He smooths the dying bed. And calms the bursts of wild distress At burials of the dead. Yet though the Lord be ever near, His people to assist, And though each moment in the year Should yield its Eucharist, Yet there are times, when closer still, And closer, draws the Word, • With blessings, hoHer than thy hill, Gerizim, ever heard. 'Tis not in thunder, nor in fire, But in the still small voice. He comes, and hark ! a heavenly choir Bids a lost heart rejoice ; Anon, in consecrated domes. Anon, amid palatial homes, Anon, beneath the rafters bare, Where fevered want might else despair, That Voice is heard ; and unto each AN EVENING COMMUNION. It breathes the same mysterious speech : " This is my Body. Take, and eat, In memory of Me, My Bread, the true, hfe-giving meat, Of Him who died for thee ! And drink ye all this hallowed Wine, The Blood, which once w^as spent, To be the Sacramental sign. Sealing my Testament ! " High Sacrifice of thanks and praise ! Foretaste of feasts in Heaven ! Bless Thou our cup in joyous days ! Ou.r bread at midnight leaven ! ^HIS strange trusteeship of the bankrupt Turk, Believe me, England, will be dangerous work; More dangerous still to take his isle as pay ; Such acquisitions filch true strength away ; Savoy and Nice, like Cyprus, seemed a gain, But what tlieir cost ? 'Twas Alsace and Lorraine. 86 CROES Y BREILA. ^t eapri— II Contrast, (V-. "iT^EE the foul presence of Imperial Eome (^^^ Sbamed the frail Sirens in their island home With beads ei-ect, and looking o'er the sea To Psestum here, and there ParthenopS) And wanton arms outstretched to either bay, The sprites of Capri sang their magic lay. "Ye who Avould revel in the soft delight Of sunny spi-ing in life's December night ; Would toy with peace a,mid the whirl of war. Here is the camp of Love, the conqueror. Of Love, who flies the better to pursue, Who never yields, unless he can subdue ; And only conquers, that the world may be Filled with the greatness of his victory." A Lord of lordly men, who ruled the earth By the proud title of their Roman birth ; Feared by his slaves, and thus enslaved by fear. To these seductive strains gave willing ear : For he had longed censorious tongues to hush, To sin in peace, and not be made to blush ; And though he loved to mark the general awe. And scoffed at honour, and himself was law. AT CAPRI A CONTRAST. 87 He deemed that tliey, who faiu would live to shock A crouching crowd, should vex it from a rock. So ou these cliffs, a sensual anchorite, He coiled the massive mainspring of his might ; Crushed out the soul beneath his baneful rule. And made the flesh his plaything and his took An idol he, and absolute his sway. But underneath the gold what loathsome clay 1 Fronting the couch whereon at noontide sat This Emperor, this lonely autocrat, The portrait of Vipsania ! Her frail dress Eeveals, conceals, increases loveliness ; 'Tis she from whom ambition made him part, She, who had almost found in him a heart. And searching, lost her own ; divorced, forlorn. The widowed mother of his child unborn. She, whom he left, in spite of claims, which hard Untutored hearts instinctively regard; Left ! and for whom ? That portrait, not so fair, Tells its own tale, too common everywhere ; Thrust out of sight, its gaudy face reversed. Upon the back the bitter word " accurst." Nor blame the deed ; for something is .in her Lascivious features, strangely sinister — 88 CROES Y BREILA. And he who hated most her shameless life, Had shared its shame, for Julia was his wife. Can this be he, abhorring and abhorred, Whom all should honour, all should hail as Lord ? If such the question, this extei-nal glare With other rays of inner light compare ; The old man sits, as one in waking trance, With looks suspicious, petulant, askance. And lo ! in terror, ill-concealed by scorn, He reads a missive, left, at early morn, On the scant beach beneath Timburio's clili", By waves receding from a stranded skiff. A fearful night had run the wreck aground, The crew were lost, that letter had been found ; Its seal a Lance, its superscription thus, " To the world's Lord, my Lord Tiberius." Musing, the second Cc'esar speaks — " And so Jesus was buried not a month ago ! Yet when I sat upon my mother's knee, A Syrian sang 'the death on Calvary.' And haunting tones were in the wild refrain, ' The Son of David fi-om the Cross shall reign ; ' And He, who walked on my Tiberias lake. Was He, the Prince of whom the prophet spake. AT CAPRI A CONTRAST. 89 He fed His thousands, multiplying bread On the bare hills, "tis well that He is dead;' 'Twas wisely done to let the traitors cry, 'Hosanna,' loud, and louder, 'Crucify.' On them, and on their race will rest the blame ; My Pontius washed his hands, I do the same ; And wiser still their haughty souls to vex, With the vile Cross, and Judaeorum Rex. For all is ended— all must end with death. And Eome is mistress still, not Nazareth ; Till from his throne Tiberius has been hurled. Nor God, nor man, shall overcome his world." Vain-glorious boaster, how supremely blind Thy self-reliant, yet distrustful mind ; A few more years, and then a sudden swoon, A Caius hailed, apparently too soon, Yet not too soon — for Macro's April cloak Eclipsed thy might majestic, while it woke; And slavish millions, deeming they were freed, Scarce blamed their new Harmodius for his deed. Or blaming, wondered they had borne so long A hideous bloated incubus of wrong. His futiu-e thus, his star soon o'ercast. The present what ? nay, rather, what the past ! 90 CROES Y BREILA. The Christ was risen, ere Tiberius read The parchment teUiug that the Christ was dead. The sun had dawned upon the Easter Day, The trembhng globe had rolled the stone away ; And He so guarded, He by grave-clothes tied, He, Whom His own had mocked and crucified, Kose from the grave, annulling Adam's curse, His foe dethroned, His throne the universe, His crown of thorns, His pentacle of scars. The themes of music for the morning stars. iAomc's Conljcvts. 'W^HE Pilgrim steering for Eternal Day, {^^ When Sirens call him, keeps the narrow way ; But how seductively their Kock invites Self-satisfied, sectarian Sybarites. SMALLNESS AND GREATNESS. 91 J^ OOTED and spurred ! as when he bore Arms at Sedan ; The very uniform he wore, When war's wild dream for him was o'er, Mocked the dead man ! Grim parody of martial state ! Poor littleness which would be great ! In every word and action shown, Smallness inborn Had claimed that Louis for her own, As when Republican Boulogne Laughed him to scorn, While the tame eagle, round his hat, Flew screaming for its lure of fat. For little efforts to be great Had been his bane ; These bade him brave a people's hate, And bind a too confiding state With his base chain ; And at the last, in sheer despair, These forced him Bismarck's host to dare. 92 CROES Y BREILA. Vain each attempt, each empty aim, Napolcou ! Thou hast not earned, or love, or fame, Thou hast disgraced a dazzUug name, But thou art gone ! And 'tis not ours to judge the deeds For which thy victim France stills hleeds. Then happy they who own that might Of man is small. In presence of a glorious height, Which in the majesty of right, Eises o'er all ; Theirs is true greatness, they alone Step fi'om earth's prison to a throne. REDEMPTION. 93 lACtrtmptton. ^URROUNDED by the sea, England is an «-^ UNDONE. 101 Wintiont, (Heme.) T^AST eve, a sunset out at sea The waves with light was streaking, Within a fisher's hut sat we, Alone, and never speaking. Now here, n'ow there, the seagulls flew, Clouds drifted, seas were swelling ; Out of her eyes, love hrimming through. The teardrops were a-welling. I saw them land upon her hand ; Then, on my knees down sinking. Straight from that hand — that snow-white hand. Those teardi'ops I was drinking. From that time forth, my life it died, My soul to grief was mated — Alas, alas ! while thus she cried. Her tears intoxicated. --^ 102 CROES Y BRKILA. ^i)t iltapov of t!jc ^palace at t!jc IFattcan, Cbi tT has been the fashion of late years to sneer at all who have attributed any evil doings or dangerous desigii^s to the Society of Jesus. But Mr. Whalley himself could not have had a greater horror of the principles which animate the soldiers of Loyola, than was expressed in the most trenchant style by their co-religionist, Pascal. And the Provincial letters, although they have always charmed every impartial reader, and have never been refuted, could not save the Gallican Church ; which form of religion, once so vigorous, has long ago ceased to exist, unless it may be said to survive in the little flock of M. Loyson. As to its producing another Pascal, that is impossible. The Society of Jesus, then, is a legitimate subject of alarm, especially to all moderate Papists. Over and over again, this ever-decreasing and impotent section of the Romish Church, has hoped that the election of a reasonable successor to S. Peter had given to it and to the world a cessation of THE MAYOR OF THE PALACE AT THE VATICAN. 103 intrigue, and a chance of religious peace. But over and over again, the Black Pope, whose name few people know, and whose election is scarcely noticed, makes it clear that he is the Mayor of the Palace at the Vatican, that is, its real Master, Who the Master of the Black Pope may be, is a grave question. His purpose, however, is clear enough. By fair means or by foul he j^i'oposes to dominate over every Empire, over every King- dom, over every Republic, over every city, over every town, over every village, over every palace, over every counting-house, over every cottage, over every soul, over every mind, over every body. A Society which has, and professes to have this object, which pursues it unflinchingly, from gene- ration to generation, using unscrupulously those means which Pascal gibbeted, but which even he was unable to strangle, can hardly be said to deserve the sacred name of Jesus, which it has attempted to appropriate. But if the Society be not of Christ, to whom does it belong ? Whose interests does it serve ? It may be not easy to offer any satisfactory reply to these enquiries ; but they cannot be accused of 104 CROES Y BREILA. folly, who keep a watchful eye on him who has introduced so much Romanism into the Cliurch of England, that is, on the Mayor of the Palace at the Vatican.* Camds antr (^nats. ^WALLOW a camel ! yet strain out t a gnat ! We foolish mortals often have done that ; Talk spi'eads a scandal, horrible, absurd, Men ask no proof, but credit every word. Talk hints that " little men " haunt Sandwell Park, So Bromwich roughs won't stay there after dark. Talk whispers, " Glamis has ghosts, and secret doors," So some who dine, won't sleep at Lord Strathmore's ; Yet if such read their Bibles, one can see Grave doubt is asking, " How can these things be ? " * This subject is more fully treated in Anwyl. A Tale of the Unnatural Eebellion, and the Great "War. By R. W. Essington. t Out, not at, is the right translation. DON DINERO OF QUEVEDO MODERNISED. 105 Bon l3mcto of ^tttcbttro iHotrcrntsttr. NOBLE bom and bred was Guy, But not an heir, And so he must not look as high As Lady Clare ; And Lady Clare, she looked no higher Than Money Esquire. A statesman for his county stood, And stood to win, But the best deeds are not as good As brass and tin ; So he who sat for Hardcashire, Was Money Esquire. Next, after nuptials, aping Eome, The millionaire With two grey mares was driven home ; The married pair Had Guy for groomsman, by desire Of Money Esquire. lOG CROES Y BREILA. Then oil' tliey set, in snow and frost, For the grand tour ; And paid so Avcll no siglits were lost, You may be sure ; Vesuvius was set on fire For Money Esquire. Again in London. What dehght ! In Clubs and Shops ; What drives by day ! What feasts by night ! Dinners and liops ! Till Boodles sickened, eating mire With Money Esquire. A Captain, who had saved his corps By nerve and skill, V.C, and verging on threescore, Was Captain still ! * Y. Colonel in superb attire Was Money Esquire ! • Note. — The following might have been written by a V.C. Captain of a V. Colonel. Carbonis venditori legionis tribnno. Sis rude donatus, tua nulla praelia creta, Sed carbone suo rite notanda forent. To a Coal Dealer, a Colonel of Volunteers. Get your discharge ; for if you fight, good fortune you will lack, Your coal will rub the chalk mark out, and stamp the day with black. DON DINEKO OF QUEVEDO MODERNISED. 107 The Ivor, and the Ivor's clan All came to grief, And every gentle-hearted man Felt for the chief ; But in his kilt o'er Ivorshire Stalked Money Esquire. There stands a venerable pile, Where England's best In chapel, transepts, nave, and aisle, Are laid to rest ; There a brass tablet in the Choir Lauds Money Esquire. A hatchment hung above the door At Bullion Park ; And twenty millions, less or more. His probate's mark ; What else could any one desire ? Great Money 'Esquire ! But now at Bullion Park, there reigned His infant heir ; With Guy, who, in a year, had gained His Lady Clare, And gossips whispered round the fire, Poor Money Esquire ! =■' • A rough sketch of these lines appeared in Over Volcanoes. 108 CROES Y BREILA. ^nijaUolusj at ^l^illton, 'E meet to-morrow, then;" 'twas tlms I cried To one whose fiieudsliip is my proudest boast. '"Tis Hallowe'en," he laughingly replied, " And so I may not be your guest, or host ; For I must hurry to a Palace table, My whinnying Aineh calls me to her stable." Answering my stare, he said, " I don't allude To Tsarkoe Selo, or to Buckingham; For I have dared, in disquisitions rude. To call a right divine a solemn sham. But there's a Court which loves a loyal man, Although his heart may be Eepublican. " So, if you choose, together we will seek The hall, where Arthur feasts at Hallowe'en ; One caution only, think before you speak, A foolish word might mar the festive scene." My answer w^as, "I thank you, and am ready." He felt my pulse, and found it slow and steady. Then, through the moonlit eve, for rnnny a mile, O'er Cornish hills on thymy turf we rode, ALLHALLOWS AT AVILLION. 109 He pouring forth bright fancies all the while, The pithy sounet, or luxuriant ode, Until we came to where a sloping wood Fringed a smooth mere, and there a Castle stood. Down on gigantic oaks grim turrets frowned, Casting long shadows o'er the reedy sea ; And from within there rose a joyous sound Of various, yet united harmony. The court-yard would have held a million, Dwarfed is Escurial by Avillion. And now we entered, where an open door Admitted guests to Tolcarn's royal hall ; Of snow-white marble was the spacious floor, And banners hung suspended from the wall ; The Knights sat round their table in a ring — Yet none could fail to recognize the King. For his, the type of all a face should be, Firm, and yet gentle, not morose, but grave ; That face which Blistra's maidens deem they see When fancy, gazing on the Fistral's wave. Recalls the monarch of their bosom's throne, And absence lends him graces not his own. The guests were mingled — here a thougljlfiil girl Talked to her fairest day-dream, lledclyffe's heir; 110 CROES Y BREILA. And on her bond was many a precious pearl Twined round a flower, wliicli none but she should wear. A golden pansy, and beneath it these Words writ in rubies, "Arthur to Heartsease," Beside her one, upon whose furrowed heart The angels sowed their seed at dead of night, From Avhich there sprang her own true counterpart, Unselfish Ninian, duty's loyal knight : And Arnold, Morris, Tennyson, sat near Longfellow, Lytton, Swinburne, Moule, and Vere. Some too were there, who, now unseen by men, Still live, as Arthur lives, annulling time ; These build no poems now with laborijig pen,' But clothe in form at will each thought sublime. 'Tis vain to tell their names, or works, the best Unknown would be, and known so well the rest. These are the men whose words have reached the heart, And in some little crevice struck a root ; From whence the goodly trees of Eden start, Kind w^ords their blossom, noble deeds their fri;it. I I ALLHALLOWS AT AVILLION. Ill The world will one clay know how grecat have been The lives, which sprung from Newcome's * death-bed scene. Nor were the soldiers absent ; foremost he Who at the Alma, Avith his Scottish kin Wrung from a brief repulse a victory ; And when the Guards were rent and wavering, And madness cursing, shouted, "Halt! and Form!" — Turned a deaf ear, aud led them through the storm. Near him were they, who, in the next campaign Will prove their right to seats in Arthur's hall ; Will wear Victoria's Cross, aud living, gain A peerage, or the Abbey, if they fall. Drake, Bradburue, Peyton, Kent, aud he, who wrote That life f which was his pattern while afloat. "One toast to-night," said Arthur, "only one. For joyous hours fly fast, and day is nigh ; Then, ere the fading stars confess the sun Sole autocratic ruler in the sky, Upstand ye all, and let each brimming glass Blush to its lips with rosy hippocrass. • The Newcomes, by Thackeray. t The life of Adiniral of the Fleet, Hlr W. Parker, Bart., G. C. B. By Rear- Admiral A. rhiUimore. 112 CEDES Y BREILA. "I drink to Her, the fairest of the fair — I driuk to licr, the bravest of the brave — Who walked uufulteriug through the tainted air, To snatch the stricken soldier from the grave ; And when he died, with woman's soft control Stilled the wild throbbings of the i^arting soul. " I drink to her — and may her angel face Kise like a rainbow on each future war ; I drink to her, in whom I love to trace The features of King Edward's Eleanor ; And may the din of battle never fail To wake some soothing, saintly, Nightingale ! " The shouts, the cheers arose, again, again, Until Tintagel rattled with the sounds. Which, echoed back by hinds and serving men, Awoke the baying of the kennelled hounds ; Then Arthur raised his hand ; and 'twas as though Four rattling wheels had passed from stones to snow. Once more he spoke, and this the final word, Before the feast of Hallowe'en was o'er ; And, like true music, on the mountains heard, His silvery voice, from rafters to the floor. Pervaded all, yet seemed to be the speech Of one soft lover's vvhisper unto each. ALLHALLOWS AT AMiLLION. 113 " Brave kniglits," said lie, " and ye, my gentle dames, Farewell, until another year has flown ; Meantime, will Arthur keep your honoured names Writ in his book, and love you as his own ; And much 'twould grieve him, if in future he Shoixld miss one comrade from this company. Yet if ye would retain your monarch's love, Tme to his covenant ye must abide ; And wise as serpents, harmless as the dove, Turn a deaf ear to malice and to pride ; Do unto all as ye would have them do. And though the world be fair and false, be true." With that he frankly grasped the hand of each, With kingly smiles, and cordial Cornish grips ; For some he had a little parting speech, For some a chaste salute upon the lips. At last he said "Good-night!" and bowed his head; We all departed, and I was — in bed. Note. — This appeared in 1856 as. a Satire, by Compton Bassett. It has been altered and cm-tailed. Other pieces contained in this volume have been treated in a similar way. 8 114 CEOES Y BREILA. ^ latbcv m t!jc SoutT), Qii SAW an Alpine rivulet careering (ss-> From rock to rock along its downward track, Wlien, mindful of the dangers it was nearing, I whispered, " Back, Back, streamlet, to thy mother, yon grey mountain ; Though glaciers fill the hollows of her breast. Her freezing kiss alone can give a fountain Safety and rest." The river murmured, '' False and empty warning ; For though my youth was cradled in the snow, I sprung from dew-di'ops in the starry morning, And thither go." Again I said, "But why this march incessant, Which will not stay to dally with the flowers ? ■ 'Twere well to learn how pure, and yet how pleasant, Are bridal hours. Lo ! where the trailing tresses of a willow Are tremulous with love she dreads to own ; Lie down in peace upon her yielding pillow — 'Twill prove a throne." A RI\'ER IN THE SOUTH. 115 To which the brook: " A primrose for a minute Dimpled my cheek with her caressing hand ; I leaped the bank, no primrose there was in it, But weeds and sand. And thus I learnt, that 'tis a lying vision Which paints the beauties of the treacherous shore, A loving heart, embittered by derision, Thus loves no more." My answer was : " 'Tis wise to shrink from wooing When frailness bends, earthrooted, yet above : That primrose lured thee to her own undoing. Buried in love. But purest loveliness art thou rejecting, Whose rays descend, and yet are throned on high ; Methinks 'twere joy indeed to sleep, reflecting The stars and sky." The river sighed, " One night the moon delayed me, Till on my breast her beams were multiplied. Uprose my very depths, yet she betrayed me — A maddening bride ; For soon there came an eddying, turbid feeling, And from my destined path a torrent broke, Till through the thorny hedgerows wildly reeling. At length I woke. IIG CEOES Y BEEILA. To know that safety is the twin of duty ; And that the wayworn pilgrims of a night ■May only rest where self-existent beauty Sheds solar light." ' "And yet," I said, "'twere wise to cease from flowing Which leads thee onward to a deadly leap, A dark abyss, for thou art blindly going Dowai to the deep." "No!" moaned the river; "though I hear that ocean, And see afar its angry billows foam, It only breeds in me a fond emotion — A thirst for home. My home, not on the hills nor sea, but yonder, Where joy untiring hushes weary care ; There, up the sunbuilt arches, I shall wander, Lighter than air, Until I join those crystal waves, which sever Earth from the Eock of Ages and the throne, There murmvuing waters rest in peace for ever, And there alone." I J DIFFERENCES. 11* ^OE some a pleasant thing is Kfe — ^^ A mother with her boy, A lover with his future wife, , A baby with a toy. But what a change, if, lingering on, We search beneath the ice For summer roses, which are gone. And never blossom twice. 'Tis well to live, when welcome praise, Kewarding work well done, Gives promise that in after days More glory will be won. 'Tis well to die, when every friend Betrays deserved disdain. For, though we must await our end, Hard is the lot of Cain. But best of all, to wake and know That death has lost its sting ; And that from winding sheets of snow The hving waters spring. 118 CROES Y BREILA, i!r!jc t!r|)vanui> of a ^ootfj, Y^OME years ago, I became acquainted with a ^7 pale and lean youth who had left a master, to whom he ought to have been eternally grateful, because he was not allowed to eat meat more than three times a day. If this voracious groom, who had starved in his boyhood, could have been persuaded to fast during Lent, after the carnal fashion of John's disciples, he might, or might not, have prolonged his life. As it was, he died before he rose to the head of his profession — that is, before he became a coachman. But, horrible as this craving after meat was in his case, it differs in degree only, and not in principle, from a craving after it at any time. For if we reflect, it is obvious, that, as often as we treat ourselves to this sort of food, we are accessary, after the fact, to the murder of a creature as wonderfully constructed as we our- selves are, and which, having no cares, was enjoying its life still more heartily than any one except a Chief Butler can hope to do. And our remorse ought to be increased by the THE TYRANNY OF A TOOTH. ' 119 thought that, after the poor animal had been consigned to that grave, where the gastric juice acts the part of quick-lime, there was no hope of a resurrection. For my part, I feel this so strongly, and am so conscience-stricken by the last faint shrieks of my annual pig, that I should be glad to become a Vegetarian. But the butchering of beasts in the shambles, and of birds in battues, seems as much a necessity of this wicked world as the slaughter of men in wars. For we carry about with us that product of the primeval curse, the canine tooth ; the cutting of which, according to the Talmud, gave to our father Adam his first sensation of physical pain. And this Tooth is a feature in the human frame with which we must not venture to trifle. Indeed, I have been told by one who was for many years a surgeon in New Zealand, and who is now a clergyman, that the Maories, having no Fauna before Cook's pigs multiplied, became cannibals as a matter of course. If this was so, it may be quoted as the most extreme case of the tyranny of a Tooth hitherto brought to light. Amongst us there are some teetotal Vegetarians, but the tribe is small ; and, as in the case of 120 CKOES Y BREILA. abstainers from wine and beer, the pendulum swings violently the other way in the next genera- tion. However, the number of those who feel that they ought to avoid flesh meat during Lent is considerable, and some, no doubt, act up to their convictions. Still the cravings of the tyrant Tooth cannot be disregarded with impunity, even for a time. This is proved by the number of dispen- sations claimed and granted; and these would have to be far more numerous, if it were not for the distinction which is drawn between fish and flesh. But this spiritual superiority of fish rests on no better grounds than were once proposed to me by a Romish priest, namely, that St. John eat locusts, that is, to say, it rests on none. And after all, it is a question whether this carnal style of fasting, involving, as it does, a temporary rebellion against natural instincts which cannot be pronounced Avicked, is a religious duty. At all events, it is certain that our Lord's disciples did not fast in this way, and it is equally clear that He justified this departure from a custom which the disciples of John rigidly observed. We are told, however, that this teaching was only temporary, being qualified by the state- THE TYRANNY OF A TOOTH. 121 ment that they would fast. when He Avas no longer with them. From which it is argued that absten- tion from flesh meat at seasons devoted to fasting, although no duty while He was visible to the eye, has become a duty now. There are, however, grave difficulties to be over- come before this difference between our times and those of the Apostles can be admitted to exist. For, can we venture to say, that He, who pronused to be with His people until the end of the world, is not with us now ? AYe hear, indeed, of those who confine the real piesence of the Omnipresent to certain places, and certain moments, when certain sacred words have been repeated. But these Doctors of the Law have not as yet ventured to insist upon our accepting the doctrine of His real absence at other times, and in other places. Nor is this all that has to be said : for if we must thus fast now, it is, ex-hypothesi, because we are spiritually in a worse position than the disciples were Avhen our Master and theirs lived on earth. But how can this be ? Then the fight for life and death was going on, and Satan did not regard his position as hopeless. Now the victory is gained, and Satan has fallen like lightning from 122 CROES Y BREILA. his vantage ground. Then Peter and Thomas stumbled, and Iscariot fell, walking by sight. Now the most ignorant, walking by faith, is safe. There must be then, as, indeed, there are, two modes of fasting — the carnal, that is, the Jewish, and the spiritual, that is, the Christian fashion, both kinds having been practised when Christ sojourned on earth, and both kinds being practised now. There is the fasting which rends the gar- ments — that listing for strife, which prompts people to wear semi-black dresses during Lent, and to cast very black looks on those who still continue to appear in their winter gowns. This is the sort of fasting which sends ten miles on Ash Wednesday for salmon when it is 3s. 6d. a pound, and which spends the intervals between the services in explaining to the man cook how it is to be served up. This is the fasting which would not, on any account, touch a rasher of bacon value twopence, but which, Avithout any scruple, devours six eggs at threepence a piece. This is the fasting which walks up the aisle with much parade on a Friday in Lent, and which, with equal parade, walks down it again in a few minutes, because the Church is not sufficiently THE TYEANNY OF A TOOTH. 123 comfortable. This is the fasting which worries the subject of it in a hundred petty ways, and which worries those with whom the subject of it consorts, in a thousand ways, still more petty. That this style of fasting should exist in these days of enlightenment, when all hypocrisy is so promptly exposed, seems strange ; but it does exist. It is practised by those Avho have substi- tuted lying legends of so-called Saints, for the inspired Word of God ; and for the worship of the Saviour, the worship of her, to whom, although she was His mother — according to the flesh — that Saviour said, " Woman, or Lady, what have I to do with thee ? " and " wist ye not that I must be about My Father's business ?" For such persons, and for those who ignorantly ape their Judaizing proclivities in postures and practices, this sort of fasting is appropriate, no doubt. But, when these self-righteous people presume, as they do, to find fault with those who understand what Spiritual and Christian fasting really is, when they rebuke those who never think about what they eat, and who habitually leave off with an appetite, and a thanksgiving, when they revile those who give their bread to the hungry, who visit the fatherless 124 CROES Y BREILA. and widows in tlieir afflictions, and keep them- selves unspotted from the worhl, these accusers, if they listened to the voice of conscience, would hear it say, " What have these Christians to do with 3^our carnal and Jiidaical observances ? How can the children of the Bridechamber fast, when the Bridesfroom is with them ? " booing autr Itootooiug^ fOT meek as doves are Party Men, still if you will Kootoo, And puff their Shibboleths, they will coo too ; and puff up you. (h -