.YRics AND SONNETS 
 
 OF 
 
 NORTHERN LANDS 
 
 BY 
 
 A BUCKLE B. A.
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 LYRICS AND SONNETS 
 
 NORTHERN LANDS. 

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

 
 NORTHERN LANDS. 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 A. BUCKLS, B.A., 
 
 Author of "Yorkshire Sonnets and Etchings" &c. 
 
 i 
 
 3Uu6tratet> witb Etchings anfc flDe33otint$ t 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 ' 
 
 LEEDS: 
 RICHARD JACKSON, COMMERCIAL STREET. 
 
 1889.
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 DEDICATED 
 
 BY SPECIAL PERMISSION 
 
 TO 
 
 HER ROYAL *HIGHNESS 
 THE PRINCESS OF WALES. 
 
 
 91&58'

 
 TO 
 
 tlVRINCESS, belov'd for kindly deeds, 
 Your praise I venture not to sing; 
 From Denmark's fair poetic fields 
 
 Some simple flowers I only bring, 
 Which, if they win your gracious smile, 
 
 Will beam as if refresh'd with dew, 
 And fragrance yield in this our Isle, 
 
 As in the land where first they grew.
 
 This Edition is limited to 300 Copies, 
 of which this is Number 
 

 
 PREFACE. 
 
 
 
 formation of very delightful friend- 
 shi^s in Denmarl^ and Norway turned 
 my attention to their literature, which, 
 with some knowledge of German, soon yielded 
 me much pleasure. The lyrics of these lan- 
 guages were to me so mtich in liarmony with 
 my own feelings, that the temptation to 
 translate them proved irresistible. Shelley 
 says: "The swafetest songs are those which 
 tell of saddest thought ;" and ttys feature will 
 be found abundantly illustrated in the speci- 
 mens I offer ; while I think other lyric qualities 
 will not be missing. I have tried to preserve 
 in the translations both -spirit and form. None 
 but those who have tried tp translate poems 
 know how far short the best translations often
 
 fall of the full foft:e of the original. These 
 efforts do not pretend to be exceptions in this 
 respect, 
 
 The concluding Lyrics, Roundels, and 
 Sonnets are mostly occasional pieces, and must 
 speak for themselves. 
 
 A. BUCKLE. 
 
 MANOR HOUSE, YORK.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 part 1. jfrorn tbe IRorwegian. 
 
 FROM J. S. C. WELHAVEN : MGJ[ 
 
 The Fairies' whisper - 17 
 
 The Bowstring 19 
 
 Alluring Sounds - 21 
 
 A Spring Night - 23 
 
 H. IBSEN : 
 
 Light-fear - - 25 
 
 The Butterfly 27 
 
 ANDREAS MUNCH : 
 
 The joy of sorrow - 28 
 
 Sabbath Rest - 29 
 
 B. BJORNSON : 
 
 The Tryst - 31 
 
 Hidden Love - - . - 33 
 
 THEODOR KJERULF : 
 
 Know'st thou the way ? 34 
 
 Sonnet 35 
 
 P. A. JENSEN : 
 
 The Sea - 36 
 
 JORGEN MOE : 
 
 God has taken care of it 37 
 
 The quenched Light - - 39 
 
 H. A. BjERREGAARD : 
 
 The Bard amidst the ruins 41 
 ANONYMOUS : 
 
 The tear 45 
 
 Memory 47
 
 part 2.f rom tbc #ant0b. 
 
 OEHLKNSCHLACP.R : 
 
 The Moon in Twilight 51 
 
 Spring 53 
 
 ST. ST. BLICHER : 
 
 To Sorrow - - 56 
 
 The Vale of Love 58 
 
 C. K. F. MOLBECH : 
 
 To the Woods! 61 
 
 HOSTRUP : 
 
 The Lark - 63 
 
 HEDE Vic : 
 
 The Lark - - 66 
 
 HOEGH-GULDBERG : 
 
 The peaceful Land - - 67 
 
 H. V. KAALUND : 
 
 Restless Longing - 69 
 
 C. PLOUG: 
 
 Wilt thou love me? - 71 
 
 CHRISTIAN WILSTER : 
 
 Day and Evening . -73 
 
 ERICA : 
 
 The white Lychnis - 75 
 
 B. S. INGEMANN : 
 
 The Wanderer - - 78 
 
 part 3. Xprica, TRouttoete, an& Sonnets. 
 
 LYRICS : 
 
 A Spring Evening 83 
 
 The Poppies 85
 
 Xlll. 
 
 ROUNDELS : 
 
 Life's Measure 86 
 
 " Like one of these " 87 
 
 Rest 88 
 
 The Marriage Bells 89 
 
 SONNETS : 
 
 Home. I. Youth - 90 
 
 ,, II. Manhood - - 91 
 III. Old Age - 92 
 
 The Labourer's Hire - - 93 
 "They supposed they should have received more" 94 
 
 Saturday Evening - 95 
 Dante's "Vita Nuova" 96 
 
 Durham Cathedral - 97 
 
 To the primrose 98 
 
 The Silver Wedding - - 99 
 
 Constancy - - 100 
 
 Voices of the Sea - 101 
 
 Absence - - 102 
 
 " To-day shalt thou be with Me," &c. - 103 
 
 Easter Even - 104 
 
 Easter Day- - 105 
 
 By the Sea Shore - 106 
 
 Called away - 107 
 
 To the Departed - 108 
 
 Christmas - - 109 
 
 The Christmas Bells - - no 
 
 Morning . - - in 
 
 John Bunyan - - 112 
 
 In Memoriam - 113 
 
 The Rising Moon - 114 
 
 Love's Feast - 115
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 1. In St Hilda's, Whitby - frontispiece 
 
 2. On the Ure - - page 25 
 
 3. Runswick Bay (mezzotint) |oi5? 
 
 4. Etty's Tomb, SL Mary's Abbey, York 41 
 
 5. Moonlit Vale (mezzotint) 51 
 
 6. Bishopthorpe Lane 63 
 
 7. Bridlington Quay 73 
 
 8. Kirkham Bridge ,, 87 
 
 9. Village Church - 95 
 10. Coast, Scarbro' (mezzotint) ,3"J*w 
 n. Coast, Whitby - 106 
 12. Richmond, Yorkshire in
 
 PART I. 
 
 Jftom the Botweoian. 
 
 -#
 
 THE FAIRIES' WHISPER. 
 
 (AFTEB J. S. C. WELHAVEN.) 
 18O7-1873. 
 
 IT is a gladsome summer day, 
 The woods with flowerets sweet are gay, 
 
 And rustlings of the leaves; 
 The fairies flit in dusky shade, 
 And whisper, " Come into our glade 
 Beneath our pleasant eaves." 
 
 " It is so mild, it is so still, 
 With flowers thy bosom thou may'st fill 
 
 Of scent and beauty rare; 
 Or if thou would'st thine hours beguile 
 With pleasant dreams, O rest awhile 
 On mossy couch so fair." 
 
 I wander on by voices led, 
 Thro' shady paths I softly tread 
 
 The wood's recess amid ; 
 And there I hear the voice again 
 Of fairies in a sweet refrain, 
 
 Behind the tree stems hid, 
 
 c
 
 i8 
 
 They seem at each footstep to say, 
 41 \\Tiere hast thou left thy love to-day, 
 
 That she is not with thee? 
 There, by the tree, is room for two, 
 A veil of shadows over you 
 
 Would fall, and none could see." 
 
 *' She is so fair, she is so sweet, 
 On summer nights we often meet 
 
 Her pleasing dreams to weave; 
 And here could she, if thou didst plead, 
 Blushing and glad, give thee the mead 
 
 Thy heart would fain receive." 
 
 How sweet her praise ! now wakes again 
 My secret, deep, and lasting pain 
 
 In this all peaceful grove. 
 My mouth is closed, my yoke I feel ; 
 No resting place, no balm to heal 
 
 This heart with wound of love.
 
 THE BOW-STRING. 
 
 (AFTER J. S. C. WELHAVEN.) 
 
 "\7OUNG Thorarin, the archer, 
 
 Unto the war would hie, 
 That he might win some booty rare 
 His tent to deck, where skin of bear 
 Upon the floor did lie. 
 
 But first he sought the woodland 
 Where birches thick were set ; 
 For there, while birds did sweetly sing, 
 Was caught the archer's heart one spring 
 In Freia's secret net. 
 
 There came the Jarl's fair daughter 
 
 To bid a sweet farewell ; 
 How soft that eve the fairies dance, 
 The lengthening shades their joy enhance 
 
 As they their pledges tell. 
 
 Around her brow fair roses 
 
 And clover leaves were bound ; 
 Said he, " O, give me these, I pray, 
 To tell of thee in danger's day, 
 While smites the sword around."
 
 Said she, 'Mid strife and battle 
 
 These beauties of the spring 
 Will fade, so for thy safety take 
 What charm and weapon both will make, 
 
 A sure and strong bow-string." 
 
 Then on a hillock sat she, 
 
 And shore her locks of gold, 
 That in the setting sun shone bright, 
 And to his bow she bound them tight, 
 And said, " Now that will hold : 
 
 " How much thy bow thou usest 
 
 In battle's fearful rout, 
 This string will ever supple be, 
 And firm and strong full constantly, 
 
 Like heart's faith will hold out." 
 
 Brave Thorarin, the archer, 
 When past the parting pang, 
 
 All fearless to the battle went; 
 
 And gladness to his heart oft sent 
 The bow-string's joyous clang.
 
 21 
 
 ALLURING SOUNDS. 
 
 (AFTEB J. S. C. WELHAVEN.) 
 
 A BIRD flew o'er the fir trees high, 
 Singing the songs of long ago ; 
 They drew me on alluringly 
 By shady woodland paths to go; 
 I wander' d to the hidden spring 
 Where timid deer their thirst could slake, 
 And still I heard alluring sing 
 The birds their sweetest echoes make ; 
 
 Tirilill teen, 
 Far, far in woods green. 
 
 I stood amid the birchen vale, 
 Where noonday rays gave mellow light, 
 The dewdrops sparkled in the dale, 
 The cliffs on high like gold shone bright ; 
 The waving trees made pleasant sound, 
 Like nestling wings that fluttered nigh ; 
 I heard thro' all the woods around, 
 The alluring tones that seem'd to cry 
 
 Tirilill teen, 
 Far, far in woods green.
 
 22 
 
 A shaded path led far away 
 Where birds built homes among the trees, 
 And each one sang the livelong day 
 As if they would my heart appease. 
 If now the place no more I gain, 
 The deep alluring tones I know, 
 Which summer long with sweet refrain 
 Still call me where I oft would go ; 
 
 Tirilill teen, 
 Far, far in woods green.
 
 A SPRING NIGHT. 
 
 (AFTER WELHAVEN.) 
 
 r I ^HE spring night cool and still 
 
 A Sheds peace on dale and hill ; 
 The brooklet in the glade 
 Sings a sweet serenade ; 
 Fairies flying, 
 Deeply sighing 
 For the beauteous lily's shade. 
 
 The silver'd ridge on high 
 
 Tells that the moon is nigh ; 
 
 While o'er the tree-tops go 
 
 The clouds like swans of snow; 
 
 Soon gentle beams 
 
 In mildest gleams 
 
 Shine o'er the beauties here below. 
 
 Close not thine eye to-night, 
 
 But in thy memory's light 
 
 Run o'er her pages clear, 
 
 As lone thou sittest here ; 
 
 While forms flit by 
 
 All silently 
 
 Among the silver'd branches near.
 
 Hark! how these whispers tell 
 
 Of dreams thou lovest well ! 
 
 See, now they bring again 
 
 The times that made thee fain ; 
 
 O, list awhile, 
 
 They will beguile 
 
 And ease thy yearning heart's deep pain.
 
 25 
 
 LIGHT -FEAR. 
 
 (H. IBSEN, 1825.) 
 
 IN boyhood's time of long ago 
 No fear possessed my mind, 
 To chatter all the daylight through 
 Amidst my happy kind. 
 
 But when the shades of even 
 
 Fell, over dale and hill, 
 Dark forms from many a story 
 
 My mind with fears would fill. 
 
 And when my eye was closed, 
 They peopled oft my dream, 
 
 And all my courage vanish' d 
 Till morning's welcome beam. 
 
 But now all that is changed, 
 With other things beside : 
 
 My fear comes now with daylight 
 And life's incoming tide. 
 
 Now it is day's dark phantoms, 
 
 And all the din of life, 
 That raise perplexing riddles 
 
 To fill my heart with strife, 
 D
 
 26 
 
 And now I must betake me 
 To hide 'neath night's veil cold, 
 
 When all my longings waken 
 As daring as of old. 
 
 Nor sea nor flame affright me, 
 I fly like hawk on prey 
 
 Forget all grief and sorrow 
 Until the morning grey. 
 
 Should night's defence be wanting, 
 
 I feel in direst need, 
 And work then undertaken 
 
 Will be but dark indeed.
 
 THE BUTTERFLY. 
 
 (H. IBSEN.) 
 
 HE: 
 
 AGNES, my pretty butterfly, 
 To catch thee my heart longs ; 
 I weave a net with meshes small, 
 The meshes are my songs. 
 
 SHE: 
 Am I a pretty butterfly? 
 
 My sweets then let me sip ; 
 And thou art kind and lovest play, 
 
 Chase me, but let me slip. 
 
 HE: 
 
 Agnes, my pretty butterfly, 
 
 My net is now complete ; 
 Thy flitting can help thee no more, 
 
 Soon thou art caught, my sweet. 
 
 SHE: 
 Am I a pretty butterfly 
 
 That joy and brightness brings ? 
 If caught within thy cunning net, 
 
 O, spare my fragile wings. 
 
 HE: 
 Ah, yes ! I'll take thee in my hand, 
 
 And shut thee in my heart, 
 Where thou may'st play the whole day long, 
 
 With no wish to depart*.
 
 THE JOY OF SORROW. 
 
 ( AFTER AKDBEJLS MCHCH, 6. 1811.) 
 
 MY heart in deepest grief hath toss'd, 
 Yet sweet this comfort still doth fall 
 "Tis better to have lov'd and lost 
 Than never to have lov'd at all."* 
 
 But not indifference I sought 
 To soothe my grief, or dull my pain, 
 For what hath life to that one brought 
 Who in love's arms hath never lain ? 
 
 For love, heaven's joys will ever sing, 
 While riches oft, alas ! deceive ; 
 What comfort many a lonely eve 
 Can memory to my sad heart bring ! 
 
 How sweet she comes, and tells my heart 
 Of happy days long since gone by, 
 Till all earth's shadows vain depart, 
 And I long for the meeting nigh. 
 
 Yes, joy may come at sorrow's cost, 
 Love's words will still in comfort fall : 
 "'Tis better to have lov'd and lost 
 Than never to have lov'd at all." 
 
 * The original of this couplet is : 
 
 " Del er bedre at have elskct og tabt 
 End aldrig at have clsket en gang."
 
 SABBATH - REST. 
 
 (ANDBEAS MUNCH) 
 
 SABBATH-REST ! 
 O, to keep without alloy 
 In my breast 
 This heaven's joy, 
 When it falls so sweet and cheery 
 On my weary, 
 Poor heart; 
 
 Like a summer rain that blesses 
 The dry earth, and with caresses 
 From it takes the long drought's smart. 
 
 Sabbath-rest ! 
 
 Thine is no death's heavy stillness, 
 
 Deep depressed, 
 
 Nor cheerlessness 
 
 Of lone places still and sad. 
 
 Thou dost glad 
 
 With sweet food 
 
 My worn spirit, and like spring, 
 
 Refresh' d, I mount on thy wing 
 
 To the Giver of all good.
 
 Sabbath-rest ! 
 
 Now hath filled my longing heart, 
 
 Thy peace so blest; 
 
 And no smart 
 
 Nor earth's din can me molest, 
 
 Nor its care 
 
 Again ensnare, 
 
 Nor disturb this joy supernal 
 
 In my soul, for peace eternal 
 
 Is thy source, O Sabbath-rest !
 
 3 1 
 
 THE TRYST. 
 
 (AFTEB B. BJOBUSEN, b. 1832.) 
 
 THE evening is still, 
 Strange doubts my heart fill, 
 Silence reigns o'er the great deep ; 
 Thoughts all unrestful, 
 Listening, questful, 
 Will she her promised tryst keep r 
 
 Winter is dreaming, 
 
 Fair stars are beaming 
 
 Like flowrets in the green lane, 
 
 Of summer telling, 
 
 Love and joys welling; 
 
 May she not meet me again r 
 
 The sea fast in ice-band 
 
 Lies still by the cold strand, 
 
 Longing its bonds to break through ; 
 
 Not a ship sailing, 
 
 Thoughts unavailing; 
 
 O, for our meeting we two !
 
 Wildly the snow flies, 
 
 And like soft down lies 
 
 In the dark wood there below; 
 
 Beasts away creeping, 
 
 Dark shadows sleeping; 
 
 Was that thy footstep ? Ah, no ! 
 
 i 
 Courage doth fail thee, 
 
 What can avail thee ? 
 
 Though longing, bewitched thou dost stay ; 
 
 Fain would I grasp thee, 
 
 In these arms clasp thee, 
 
 Where thou dost dream time away.
 
 33 
 
 HIDDEN LOVE. 
 
 (BJOBNSEN.) 
 
 ALL restless he wandered around, 
 All gaily she danc'd o'er the ground 
 With laughter and chat, 
 To this one and that; 
 His heart was nigh breaking to view it, 
 And yet was there no one who knew it. 
 
 She went by the barn at the eve, 
 
 He came there to take his last leave ! 
 
 Poor heart ! all forlorn 
 
 To weep and to mourn ; 
 
 Yea, deep in her heart did she rue it, 
 
 And yet was there no one who knew it. 
 
 How slow seem'd the time to pass o'er ! 
 
 He turn'd to his lode-star once more : 
 
 But she lay at rest, 
 
 Calm peace fill'd her breast ; 
 
 Yet still she was true to him through it, 
 
 And yet was there no one who knew it,
 
 34 
 
 KNOW'ST THOU THE WAY? 
 
 (TiiKODOB KjEidur, b. 1826.) 
 
 O LITTLE bird ! know'st thou the way 
 Which is unknown to me? 
 How swift thou flewest at break of day, 
 With heart all full of glee ! 
 
 Around thy neck my message tied, 
 
 Full of my longing mind ; 
 Thy speed the sailor has outvied, 
 
 Thou waitest for no wind. 
 
 No sweet reply can I get now; 
 
 No word to ease my pain ; 
 I know not when, I know not how, 
 
 Or if we meet again. 
 
 O might that be, what gladness then ! 
 
 I'd sing, sweet bird, like thee ; 
 O come and tell me of the when 
 
 That happy time shall be.
 
 35 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 (THEODOR KJERULF.) 
 
 T SEE thee when I wake and when I dream, 
 
 -* For when across the beauteous meads I gaze, 
 Mysterious in the shimmering noontide haze, 
 O'er all like fragrance sweet thy face doth 
 beam. 
 
 Then to my heart the blood in fullest stream 
 Will rush ; until I sink in deep amaze : 
 How sweet and bitter is the cup I raise 
 To drink, ah, none indeed can truly deem ! 
 
 How oft like one intoxicate I wake, 
 
 And feel the scalding tears upon my cheek, 
 And brood for long upon my throes of pain ! 
 
 O is it but a dream, unreal and vain, 
 
 Or are these memories, vibrations weak 
 
 Of broken strings, that once did music make ?
 
 THE SEA. 
 
 (P. A. JEXMCM, 1812-1867.) 
 
 N 
 
 EATH darkness rolling, 
 
 Wild waves are foaming, 
 Storm winds are howling 
 Like lost spirits roaming: 
 The storm-fiend, as though madly hurl'd, 
 Is snorting on its wide-spread wings, 
 While all around it wildly flings 
 Strange fright upon a troubl'd world. 
 
 But dost thou not know 
 
 Amidst all thy fright, 
 
 There raves not below 
 
 The storm's dreadful might ? 
 Yes ; there its hoarsest howlings cease, 
 
 In halls of fairest sapphire blue, 
 
 'Mid pearls and corals, far below, 
 'Neath all earth's tempests, there is Peace.
 
 37 
 
 GOD HAS TAKEN CARE OF IT. 
 
 (J6BOEN MOE, 1813-1881) 
 
 I HAVE a child of four years old, 
 A little maiden fair, 
 Her worth to me can ne'er be told, 
 Dark eyes and nut-brown hair. 
 
 She stood and gazed in joyous mood 
 Through the clear window-pane ; 
 
 The sun was setting o'er the wood 
 With glowing royal train. 
 
 Still brighter shone his grand display, 
 
 New beauties still unfold ; 
 The purple clouds all peaceful lay, 
 
 Their edges decked with gold. 
 
 The little maid in silence stood 
 
 Entranced with the sight, 
 As if into her soul she would 
 
 Drink in the roseate light. 
 
 No word she spake, but gazed on 
 
 With look of fixed intent, 
 Until the pageant all was gone, 
 
 And the last beams were spent.
 
 Then turn'd with look of sad dismay, 
 
 And with a gentle sigh, 
 "Now God has put them all away," 
 
 Said she, with downcast eye. 
 
 Ah, yes ! my child, so will it be, 
 Yea, many and many a time, 
 
 When with thy soul's eye thou dost see 
 God's glory so sublime. 
 
 Again thou'lt see it pass away 
 
 And in the dark be lost, 
 Nor faintest beam thy gaze repay, 
 
 Where late it glow'd the most. 
 
 But in thy mind the truth inlay, 
 Which just now thy heart spake ; 
 
 For " God doth put it all away," 
 But only for thy sake. 
 
 Thus Heaven hides oft its glories bright 
 From its own children's eyes, 
 
 One day to glad in fuller light, 
 Their hearts with blest surprise.
 
 39 
 
 THE QUENCHED LIGHT. 
 
 MY light is quench'd, my own young bride, 
 Thou wast my altar flame ; 
 O God, from Thee I wander wide, 
 From whom her sweet love came. 
 
 Dark on the .wreck I sit again, 
 The tossing waves sweep o'er ; 
 
 For break of day I sigh in vain, 
 Night covers sea and shore. 
 
 And darkness all my soul doth fill, 
 While quenched is thy light ; 
 
 No ray of joy my grief doth still, 
 Whilst thou glad'st not my sight. 
 
 Earth has no voice of power to reach 
 This listening ear of mine, 
 
 That longs to catch in gentle speech 
 Some precious word of thine.
 
 And while I gaze not on thy face, 
 
 Pure lily bright and fair, 
 The sun can beautify no place, 
 
 For thou, love, art not there. 
 
 But if on earth, sweet summer flower, 
 
 I gaze on thee no more, 
 At length I know, in God's good hour, 
 
 My life's night will be o'er.
 
 THE BARD AMIDST THE RUINS. 
 
 (H. A. BJERREOAAKD, 1792-1842.) 
 
 DARKLY stood the ruin'd castle, 
 In .the stillness of the night, 
 While the peaceful stars of heaven 
 Shed o'er it their glimmering light. 
 
 Round were scatter'd broken fragments 
 Of the beauteous carved stone, 
 
 And between the shatter' d pillars 
 Sat a harper, sad and lone. 
 
 By his breast his harp he rested, 
 O'er its strings with sad caress 
 
 Pass'd his wither'd hands, all trembling, 
 Till it spoke as in distress. 
 
 Louder grew the tones of wailing, 
 As a strange and powerful clang 
 
 Sounded on the quiet night-air, 
 And to it the harper sang : 
 
 F
 
 " Fingers stiff and eyes all weary, 
 
 Sits the singer lone and old, 
 While above, the stars of heaven 
 
 Shed their beams so bright and cold. 
 
 " Soon this trembling heart is stilled, 
 
 Soon these eyes shall lose their light ; 
 Come then, bard, and sing thy last song 
 In the still and peaceful night. 
 
 " Soon the day of life is ended, 
 
 With death's starry night at hand ; 
 What I sought hath not been missing, 
 Now to go, I ready stand. 
 
 " I can die, for I have lived, 
 
 Lov'd, and sung, and suffer'd too ; 
 Something in my life effected, 
 
 Many a fight have battl'd through. 
 
 "Tones of heaven brought to earthward, 
 On my harp's poor trembling string; 
 Passions waked and restrained, 
 
 Heighten'd joy, taught grief to sing 
 
 " Hearts have I oft set to bleeding, 
 
 Swell with joy, or thrill with pain ; 
 Hearts have I oft set to glowing 
 With the bliss of hope again.
 
 43 
 
 "I have clasp'd a darling maiden, 
 
 Clasp'd in faith and truth a friend ; 
 They are gone, and now the harper 
 Calmly waits the appointed end. 
 
 " Cease, O heart of mine, thy beatings ; 
 
 Thou hast throbb'd to many a sigh ; 
 Leave behind earth's joys and sorrows, 
 Mount to star-crowds far on high. 
 
 " Fare thee well, thou heaven above me ! 
 Fare thee well, thou beauteous earth ! 
 Fare ye well, ye flowery meadows ! 
 Fare ye well, ye birds of mirth ! 
 
 " Fare ye well, too, cares and sorrows ! 
 
 Soon is mute the harper's voice, 
 For his last time, now the old bard 
 In his swan-song can rejoice. 
 
 " Yet one wish alone remaineth ! 
 
 Only one ere life hath pass'd : 
 That amidst these ancient ruins 
 He may find his grave at last. 
 
 " Here it would be well to slumber, 
 Here a bard might rest content, 
 For no art of man could raise him 
 Such a glorious monument."
 
 44 
 
 As the last tones died away, 
 
 Crash'd the thunder peal around, 
 
 Dash'd the pillars o'er the singer, 
 
 Who his wish'd-for grave hath found. 
 
 Thus above his worn-out body 
 Rise aloft the sculptured stones, 
 
 And at night, from underneath them, 
 Oft are heard a harp's strange tones.
 
 45 
 
 THE TEAR. 
 
 REAT is friendship's might, 
 Sweet is love's true plight, 
 And the joys they give our life endear; 
 But not friendship's glance, 
 Nor looks that hearts entrance, 
 But devotion's pledge is a tear. 
 
 Trust no flatterer's smile 
 Who would with lying guile, 
 
 Gain for selfish ends thy willing ear ; 
 But the eye so true, 
 Where the soul looks through 
 
 And is shining bright in a tear. 
 
 Warrior bold in fight 
 
 Bravely for the right, 
 Battle's danger sees without a fear ; 
 
 Yet his tender heart 
 
 Feels for foe a smart, 
 And bathes his wound with a tear.
 
 4 6 
 
 But when war is o'er, 
 
 And in peace once more 
 He can lay aside the wounding spear ; 
 
 Then in love's embrace, 
 
 From that smiling face 
 He can kiss away the trembling tear. 
 
 Sailor brave and free, 
 
 When the raging sea 
 Seems to tell him death is near, 
 
 And that threatening wave 
 
 Soon may be his grave, 
 Thinks of his dear home with a tear. 
 
 When comes that blest release 
 
 Which calls the soul to peace, 
 And to meetings with the lost and dear; 
 
 When by my grave ye stand, 
 
 A silent, mourning band, 
 O then bedew my dust with a tear !
 
 47 
 
 MEMORY. 
 
 winged feet I fled afar, 
 Far from each well-known place, 
 Memory, I thought, would stay her car, 
 Nor follow in the race. 
 
 Onwards I sped o'er wildest sea, 
 On mountain heights I stand ; 
 
 But in my breast still lurketh she, 
 And wields her wounding brand. 
 
 On earth is no resistless shield 
 
 To ward her heavy blow; 
 Wounded I lie on mountain field, 
 
 The unstaunched blood will flow.
 
 PART II. 
 
 3from tbe Banish.
 
 THE MOON IN TWILIGHT. 
 
 (OEHLENSCHLAGEB, 1779-1850.) 
 
 golden star of evening beams, 
 A But short its stay; 
 The chill night-air too cold it deems, 
 vSo hastes away : 
 The roseate rays of setting sun 
 Are its delight, 
 Him it follows gladly on, 
 And knows not night. 
 
 But gentle love, with hands so fair, 
 
 Likes not the sun, 
 
 As violet sweet scents the air 
 
 When he is gone. 
 
 Then calmly shines the moon on high, 
 
 Tender and clear, 
 
 To show unto these lovers shy 
 
 Some bower near. 
 
 There bashful love can tell its tale 
 And none can pry, 
 Only the moon sees through the veil, 
 And she is shy;
 
 Of all things the brooklet chatters 
 Over its sands, 
 
 But the strange tongue it utters 
 None understands. 
 
 So gentle youth and maiden fair 
 
 Safe can confide, 
 
 And nothing shall disturb them there, 
 
 Sat side by side : 
 
 The moon will not break the spell 
 
 Of their pure bliss, 
 
 And only the brooklet can tell 
 
 Of the fond kiss.
 
 S3 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 (OEHLENSCHLAGER.) 
 
 GAY spring now is come, 
 Fair smiles the green grove, 
 The nightingale's song 
 Pours out his heart's love; 
 And blushing the roses 
 Stand thick on the tree, 
 While bright glance the wavelets 
 O'er the calm sea. 
 
 The star of the evening 
 Beams full of love's joy ! 
 And see the slim maiden 
 Bewitching and coy. 
 How light the soft zephyr 
 That breathes from the west, 
 Stirs now the bright flowers 
 That deck her warm breast. 
 
 maiden, sweet maiden, 
 I've closed now my book ; 
 And on its dull pages 
 
 1 care not to look;
 
 54 
 
 The light that I found there 
 Hath passed away. 
 O come, my beloved, 
 Why dost thou delay? 
 
 Thou art my fair flower, 
 My zephyr so sweet, 
 My lily the purest, 
 My rose all complete ; 
 The nightingale singeth 
 When evening shades fall ; 
 Thou singest and talkest, 
 My sweet all in all ! 
 
 O come and embrace thou 
 Thy young singer here, 
 While soundeth his lyre 
 In tones thrilling clear; 
 In love's fetters bind him, 
 So light and so strong, 
 O haste thee, and give him 
 A kiss for his song ! 
 
 See, time stays his swift flight 
 When bursts forth the spring, 
 In youth stand the old days 
 When glad the birds sing.
 
 55 
 
 In thy fond embrace, love, 
 Naught's wanting for me, 
 Fawns leap in the woodland, 
 And naiads in the sea. 
 
 Pan stands by the woods there, 
 
 A watchful, true wight, 
 
 To chase far time's prudence 
 
 With terror and fright; 
 
 It would kill my fair Dryad, 
 
 My rapt'rous embrace, 
 
 While mocking my lov'd one 
 
 With laughing grimace.
 
 TO SORROW. 
 
 (Si. ST. BLICHEB, 1782-1848.) 
 
 OTHOU who silent with thy head bow'd down 
 Like broken lily on its stem bent low, 
 Who round black locks dost wear a thorny crown, 
 As joy's pale sister-angel, w r hom we know, 
 
 Dost thou not come, indeed, from heaven above, 
 As storm, and rain, and thunder dost thou fall ? 
 
 Dost thou come from a God of love, 
 Like cloud, thy shadow casting over all ? 
 
 Is there no comfort in thy throbbing pain r 
 Hast thou no soothing in thy bitter tears r 
 
 Are only sighs thy constant sad refrain ? 
 
 In wounded hearts dost thou but stir up fears r 
 
 Ah, no ! thou givest strength while casting down, 
 Thy cup of tears I shall not drink in vain; 
 
 I love thee, too, although I fear thy frown ; 
 My soul's sad friend, console me once again.
 
 57 
 
 Let me embrace thee as my pale, sad bride, 
 And find sweet healing 'neath thy sable wing, 
 
 While o'er our heads, as we stand side by side, 
 Fair stars of hope their gentle radiance fling. 
 
 O come, then, as thou wilt, sent from on high, 
 And my poor trembling heart with thee shall stay; 
 
 Out of darkness thou wilt guide mine eye 
 To the light of everlasting day.
 
 THE VALE OF LOVE. 
 
 (St. ST. BLICHEB.) 
 
 "P)EHIND some blue mountains there lies a 
 
 JL) sweet vale, 
 
 So lonely, so peaceful, which storms ne'er assail ; 
 There cometh not winter, with frost or with snow, 
 'Tis spring there for ever, where soft breezes blow. 
 
 It smileth for ever; in spring's beauties clad 
 With sweet-scented flowers it always is glad ; 
 No changes pass over its beauties still new, 
 By mountains protected it keeps it's fair hue. 
 
 Around it for shelter stand woods ever green, 
 With foliage unchanging in brightening sheen, 
 While sweet woodland songsters in freedom and 
 
 In warblings unending find sweetest employ. 
 
 From thick-covered rock heights there leap down 
 
 below 
 
 The clearest of waters, 'mid violets to flow; 
 So softly they glide there, and wind round and 
 
 round, 
 As though they would never flow from so fair 
 
 ground.
 
 But in this fair valley there lieth conceal'd 
 A cottage, the neatest to eye e'er reveal'd ; 
 By thick groves surrounded before and behind, 
 Its straw-cover' d roofing you scarcely can find. 
 
 But in the bright sunset its windows small shine 
 And beam as with gladness two sweet laughing 
 
 eyne ; 
 While 'midst the bright roses its white walls are 
 
 seen, 
 Or in the clear brooklet reflected serene. 
 
 And here, by the brooklet, 'mid roses there dwell, 
 Unseen by the world's eye, as monk in his cell, 
 Two lovers, whose bosoms are filled but with love, 
 Whose voices sound soft as the cooing of dove. 
 
 When morning awakens the bird on its nest, 
 It findeth her cheek on his bosom at rest ; 
 When even falls gently with all restful charm, 
 It finds him encircled by her loving arm. 
 
 Like two pearly dewdrops, that sparkle with light, 
 Within some fair flower cup fall down and unite ; 
 As two lovely lilies on single stem grow, 
 Though twin flowers blooming, like one blossom 
 show.
 
 6o 
 
 They care not for time as it comes or it goes, 
 They count not the days or the year as it flows ; 
 The past or the future, what is it for them ? 
 The present weaves for them its best diadem. 
 
 O, tell us, thou singer, where find we that vale, 
 So lonely, so peaceful, which storms ne'er assail, 
 Where spring ever bloometh in beauty all drest, 
 And love ever filleth the lover's fond breast? 
 
 It is a bright dream from my far distant spring, 
 Which o'er me at sixteen spread J out its fair wing; 
 But storms then burst o'er me, and mists, alas! rose, 
 I lost my sweet valley, where lovers repose. 
 
 But if ye should find it, fair youth and sweet maid, 
 That valley where I would for ever have stayed, 
 With tenderness think of the poet so fain, 
 Who found the bright valley and lost it again.
 
 6i 
 
 TO THE WOODS! 
 
 C. K. F. MOLBECH, 1821. 
 
 COME, come, let us fly, 
 I and thou, my heart's joy, 
 Where trees hide the sky 
 Where comes no annoy; 
 Let us fly from this place 
 Where fetters are round us, 
 In the wood's joyous space 
 Sweet peace oft hath found us. 
 
 Here love finds no rest, 
 Like a bird hunted down ; 
 In the woods, on my breast 
 Thou need'st fear no frown. 
 Busy tongues, prying eyes, 
 Ever follow us here ; 
 The lone deer's surprise 
 We there need not fear. 
 
 Come, come, let us fly ! 
 I often can hear 
 'Mid tumult and cry 
 The wood's soft call clear :
 
 62 
 
 'O, come to my shade 
 Where love's joys abide, 
 And each flower in the glade 
 Blooms fit for a bride. 
 
 'For each loving heart 
 In my shades will be found 
 Some sweet nook apart 
 With soft breezes round. 
 Why spend your short life, 
 So soon gone for aye, 
 'Mid trouble and strife? 
 O, come, come away." 
 
 Come, come, let us fly ! 
 I and thou, my heart's joy, 
 Where trees hide the sky, 
 Where comes no annoy ; 
 For in twilight's rest 
 While life doth repose, 
 Love can find a safe nest 
 And a cure for all woes.
 
 THE LARK. 
 
 (HOSTRUP, 6. 1818.) 
 
 OF what dost thou sing- 
 Far up in the sky ? 
 Whose praise dost thou tell 
 As clear thy notes well 
 From fount never dry ? 
 Has the sun called thee forth 
 To tune thy sweet lay, 
 While cold from the north 
 Blows the wind o'er the bay ? 
 
 I fly up so high, 
 
 I gaze so far round, 
 
 Bright summer I see 
 
 In gladness and glee 
 
 Trip o'er the fair ground ; 
 
 All over I hear 
 
 Sweet rippling of streams ; 
 
 And visions of fear 
 
 Are passing like dreams.
 
 64 
 
 I gaze so far round, 
 My song is so bright, 
 Of mists that are scatter'd, 
 Of meadows bespattered 
 With red and with white; 
 Of ships on waves dancing; 
 Of seeds that are springing; 
 Of bright days advancing, 
 Arid happiness bringing. 
 
 Of what dost thou dream 
 So high in the blue ? 
 Can gladness be there, 
 Where eagles can tear 
 Such small birds as you ? 
 Can meadows give pleasure, 
 Or bright laden trees, 
 With fruits beyond measure, 
 Which dark foes may seize ? 
 
 I climb up so high, 
 So wide round I gaze, 
 Above the mists far 
 I see a clear star, 
 Foretelling the days 
 When sleepers awake, 
 Who slumber' d so deep, 
 The idle to quake, 
 The dead soul to weep.
 
 65 
 
 I climb up so high, 
 I see with delight 
 The dutiful youth 
 His parents requite ; 
 The sayings of home 
 Still guiding his way, 
 Where'er he may roam, 
 Still cheering his day. 
 
 I gaze so far round, 
 My song is so glad, 
 With fountains clear leaping 
 With birds in safe keeping 
 And nothing seems sad; 
 With peace that is nearing, 
 With great deeds and song, 
 No rushing storm fearing 
 The bright summer long.
 
 66 
 
 VIG. 
 
 NO shelter needs this songster dear 
 In tree or bush, but without fear, 
 In meadow or amidst the heather, 
 It builds its nest in sweet spring weather. 
 
 But not what doth to earth belong 
 It seeks, and so its trilling song 
 It pours in fullest strain, as higher 
 Aloft its flight is heaven nigher. 
 
 More than all other songsters bright 
 It seeks the blue of heaven's height, 
 For there above it finds no sadness, 
 While singing turns its care to gladness. 
 
 For there is power in its clear song, 
 Which oft we've felt both sweet and strong ; 
 Yes, in those gladsome tones "unbidden," 
 What blessed comfort oft is hidden ! 
 
 For heart and eye it draws above, 
 And hope seems on its wings to move, 
 As upward mounting in the heaven, 
 Its song wells forth from morn till even.
 
 THE PEACEFUL LAND. 
 
 HOEGH-GULDBERG, 1771-1852. 
 
 r I ^HE waves have ceased their tossing, 
 
 The storms are laid to rest, 
 And scarce a breath is blowing 
 
 O'er ocean's heaving breast ! 
 And in the far-off distance 
 
 A known and loved voice, 
 From land I see by starlight 
 
 Makes all my heart rejoice. 
 
 My fatherland ! how welcome 
 
 Thy s\veet and peaceful shore ! 
 There loved ones are gather' d 
 
 To part and mourn no more ! 
 Each place doth touch some heart-chord, 
 
 Each flower bears some sweet name, 
 All troubles there are vanish' d, 
 
 Forgot all want and shame. 
 
 No greener woods or valleys 
 
 And no serener sky> 
 No warbling songsters sweeter, 
 
 No place can that outvie ;
 
 68 
 
 Days undisturbed by longing, 
 And trust that knows no bound 
 
 Pure hearts and ne'er inconstant 
 Can only there be found. 
 
 Ye waves, now gently bear me 
 
 To that dear peaceful strand, 
 Alread}r nears the fair one, 
 
 To lead me safe to land ; 
 I see his torch-light glimmer, 
 
 I know he'll guide me right, 
 My heart beats with a flutter, 
 
 But with no touch of fright. 
 
 Companions of my voyage ! 
 
 I bid a last adieu ! 
 And hope one day, safe landed, 
 
 At length to welcome you ! 
 Too bright thy torch ! pray shade it ! 
 
 I'm dazzled with its glare, 
 I'll close my eyes a little while 
 
 And open them when there.
 
 6 9 
 
 RESTLESS LONGING. 
 
 H. V. KAALUND, 1818. 
 
 T)Y each aim to which I strive, 
 * * Longing on life's way; 
 
 With each step by which I rise 
 
 Still I find no stay ; 
 
 Scarce I clasp some happy joy 
 
 Ere 'tis gone and past, 
 
 Wanting, wanting, 
 
 Ever wanting to the last. 
 
 Rest I find not in my knowledge, 
 
 In what I do, or feel, 
 
 Time beneath my feet keeps turning 
 
 Still its restless wheel ; 
 
 Scarcely is one foot set down 
 
 For a moment's space, 
 
 Onward, onward, 
 
 Ever onward is the race.
 
 Winged hope I follow after, 
 
 With its promise fair, 
 
 Still its song deceives me ever, 
 
 Always near, yet ever there. 
 
 O how sweet comes night's refreshing 
 
 For tir'd hand and weary brain, 
 
 Then with morning 
 
 To awake and strive again.
 
 WILT THOU LOVE ME? 
 
 (C. PLOUO, 1813.) 
 
 WILT thou love me, when the day is waning, 
 And its sun is sinking bleak and cold ; 
 When its darkening shadows thickly gather, 
 And foretell me that its hours are told; 
 When my foot is weary, and all powerless 
 Sink my hands upon thy loving breast; 
 When mine eye in prayer is heavenward turning, 
 And in need is begging for God's rest ? 
 
 Wilt thou love me, when what I had promised, 
 Ne'er, alas ! shall I be able to fulfil ; 
 When 'tis plain my heart was all too eager, 
 And I failed for want of power, not will ; 
 "\Vhen I'm cast aside like rusty weapon, 
 Blunt and useless, though once sharp and bright, 
 And the careless crowd will scarce remember 
 That I ne'er was backward in the fight ? 
 
 Wilt thou love me, when these little warblings, 
 Which from out my full heart gush'd so free, 
 That they touched other hearts with power, 
 And first drew thy constant love to me;
 
 When 'mid other songs they are forgotten, 
 And a younger race heeds them no more ; 
 When they lie upon the shelf neglected, 
 With the dust of years all covered o'er ? 
 
 Wilt thou love me, when that rest is gained, 
 Which this troubled life me never gave ; 
 When the end of all my earnest striving 
 Seems a mound of earth, an unknown grave ? 
 Wilt thou teach our little ones so truly 
 Who I was, for what I fought and died ? 
 Wilt thou keep me in thy dearest memory, 
 Till in peace thou restest by my side ?
 
 73 
 
 DAY AND EVENING. 
 
 CHRISTIAN WILSTEB, 1796-1840. 
 
 DAY goes slowly to its end, 
 Full of toil and care; 
 Evening is a tender friend, 
 With eyes of stars so fair. 
 
 Day the thoughts doth scatter wide 
 
 Far and wide they roam ; 
 Evening calls the heart again 
 
 To its lov'd at home. 
 
 Through earth's valleys far and near 
 
 Day casts the eager eye; 
 Evening turns the prayerful gaze 
 
 To mansions in the sky. 
 
 Day is eager and athirst 
 
 Some new gain to win ; 
 Evening hours of peace and rest 
 
 Enjoy what's gathered in. 
 
 K
 
 74 
 
 Day amid its varying 1 scenes 
 Sees us laugh and weep ; 
 
 But the sigh of evening oft 
 Stirs a deeper deep. 
 
 Daylong wandering far and wide 
 The heart can find no rest ; 
 
 But at even, with sweet song, 
 Flies it to its nest.
 
 75 
 
 THE WHITE LYCHNIS. 
 
 (EKICA.) 
 
 (The White, Corn, or Evening Lychnis (Lychnis Vespertina) emits 
 a pleasant odour in the Evening.) 
 
 DOWN in the grove a pale star grows, 
 Amongst the withered leaves, 
 And trembling in the bleak winds' play 
 A shivering sigh it heaves. 
 
 The great eternal starry host 
 
 It gazed upon at night, 
 Where high in heaven, with silver rays, 
 
 Shone their unfading light. 
 
 It dreamt of them the livelong day, 
 
 While lonely there it grew, 
 And while the summer's beauty far 
 
 Away the rough wind blew. 
 
 " Ye beaming stars that peaceful move, 
 
 In sweet and quiet rest, 
 Beneath that vault, where care nor fear 
 Disturbs your joy so blest !
 
 7 6 
 
 " No raging storm, no sleety blast, 
 
 Nor death's grim form ye know, 
 While there ye shine, so near God's throne, 
 And high above earth's woe ! 
 
 " I too was made a fair white star, 
 
 A pure and spotless gem. 
 To tremble but a little while 
 Upon this slender stem. 
 
 "The first rough wind down in the dust 
 
 My tender crown will lay, 
 And whirl about 'mid withered leaves 
 In its wild heedless play. 
 
 "Ye bright and heavenly starry host, 
 
 In the deep blue so high, 
 The little flower that loves you much 
 Will soon be gone for aye ! 
 
 " Now sinks the sun, and ye come forth, 
 
 And I may gaze once more 
 On your eternal beauties, 
 Ere yet my time is o'er ! " 
 
 Then spake, as it gazed kindly down, 
 
 The Star of Evening mild : 
 " O sister sweet, that hid'st thyself, 
 Be cheered, my tender child !
 
 77 
 
 "A short and fleeting silver glance 
 
 Our God to thee hath given, 
 And thou hast raised thy loving eye 
 To the star crown of heaven. 
 
 " And we, who for our thousand years 
 
 Have held our lofty way, 
 Think' st thou, fair one, we value much 
 Our seeming endless day ? 
 
 " The song we sing to God on high 
 
 Is that same glorious hymn, 
 Which with the smallest stars of earth 
 We offer up to Him. 
 
 " Take comfort, then, for thy short life ; 
 
 For one pure tone and clear 
 Can humbly witness to His might 
 On earth as we do here. 
 
 " In great creation's harmony, 
 
 Thou, too, dost fill thy part : 
 Can we do more, my sister dear ? 
 Then calm thy troubled heart."
 
 THE WANDERER. 
 
 B. S. INGEMANN, 1789-1862. 
 
 ALL the sky was dull and drear, 
 But what cared I ! 
 For my sky shone bright and clear 
 In Eliza's eye. 
 
 Not a star was to be seen, 
 
 Yet I felt no fear; 
 For like stars of brightest sheen 
 
 Shone those eyes so dear. 
 
 All the way was rough and dark; 
 
 Unheeding wind, or weather, 
 O'er the roughest path we trudge, 
 
 Joyfully together. 
 
 Then the sky again was fair, 
 
 But what cared I ! 
 For I saw no longer there 
 
 My Eliza's eye.
 
 79 
 
 Friendly shone the stars above, 
 But joyless was their light ; 
 
 For in them I could not see 
 Her sweet eyes so bright. 
 
 Would the sky were dark once more ! 
 
 And no star appear! 
 But give the wanderer back again 
 
 His companion dear.
 
 PART III. 
 
 IRounbels & Sonnets. 
 
 (ORIGINAL.)
 
 A SPRING EVENING. 
 
 r I A HE burdens of the day laid by, 
 
 We wander' d thro' the quiet lane, 
 As heart in heart my love and I 
 Were glad with joys of hope again. 
 
 Sweet was the perfum'd breeze of spring 
 From whiten' d orchards wafted by, 
 
 But sweeter joy to me did bring 
 Her gentle, loving presence nigh. 
 
 Thou moon, that on our path didst shine 
 So fair, as on we saunter'd slow, 
 
 Canst thou reveal to heart of mine 
 The future that I fain would know r 
 
 Ah, no ! but in those tender eyes, 
 That gaz'd on thee, I fondly trace 
 
 A loving sympathy arise, 
 
 Where my glad heart hath found a place.
 
 How restful was the calm of eve ! 
 
 The peace beneath the pale moonbeams ! 
 Our hearts forgot one sigh to heave, 
 
 We wander' d as in pleasant dreams. 
 
 Fair moon ! sweet breeze ! all restful calm ! 
 
 In life's oft changing joy and care ; 
 May mutual love's blest healing balm 
 
 Our spirits soothe like evening prayer. 
 
 \J\x
 
 THE POPPIES. 
 
 MY thoughts were of a sombre turn, 
 As thro' the field I took my way ; 
 I mused on all the ills of life, 
 Beclouded heart, beclouded day. 
 
 The corn was green, the tender blade 
 Gave promise of a harvest fair, 
 
 And 'mid the corn in beauty stood 
 
 Some bright red poppies gleaming there. 
 
 Then passed the clouds, the sun shone forth 
 And filled the land with cheering light ; 
 
 And 'mid the waving blades of corn, 
 Made all the poppies shine more bright. 
 
 So in life's anxious cares and toils 
 Our Father's love I seem'd to see ; 
 
 Some little joys to cheer each lot 
 He sendeth to us constantly. 
 
 With hopeful heart and trusting love 
 We'll joyful to our work at morn, 
 
 While smiling eyes and loving deeds 
 Shine like the poppies 'mid the corn.
 
 86 
 
 IRounbels, 
 
 i. 
 
 LIFE'S MEASURE. 
 
 TV T OT by years, but deeds all bright, 
 *" ^ Wrought 'mid joys and hopes and fears, 
 We will measure life aright, 
 Not by years. 
 
 Love, though gazing oft through tears, 
 Then o'er life shall shed its light, 
 Dreading not the end that nears, 
 
 Nobly striving in the fight, 
 Till the long'd-for rest appears, 
 When bliss is measured infinite, 
 Not by years.
 
 II. 
 
 "LIKE ONE OF THESE." 
 
 T IKE one of these," as here they stand and 
 
 Lv shine, 
 
 Or dance in gladness in the summer's breeze, 
 Thou canst not deck thyself in silks so fine, 
 " Like one of these." 
 
 But cast aside, O man, ignoble ease, 
 
 In self negation rise to heights divine, 
 
 Nor seek in life alone the deeds that please. 
 
 Thus shall thy very soul herself inshrine 
 In beauties which the outward eye ne'er sees, 
 Whose splendours waste not in a sad decline, 
 " Like one of these."
 
 88 
 
 III. 
 
 REST. 
 
 A LITTLE rest ! O tired and weary heart ! 
 T After thy long and seeming bootless quest, 
 How sweet this balm to heal some bitter smart, 
 A little rest! 
 
 Ye patient ones, who toil 'mid sighs supprest, 
 
 And meekly, lovingly sustain your part, 
 
 At length your dreary day sinks in the west : 
 
 Then shall be wiped away the tears that start, 
 His answer meet be given to your request, 
 When in God's love ye have with Him apart 
 A little rest!
 
 8 9 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE MARRIAGE BELLS. 
 
 ^T"*HE music of the bells to-day 
 
 Has told the truth my verse now tells ; 
 "We will be true" How sweet their lay! 
 The music of the bells. 
 
 For in our heart a charm there dwells, 
 All doubting fear with power to allay, 
 The might of Love, that all compels. 
 
 In sunshine and in storm to obey 
 All his behests, and then there dwells 
 Perennial joy, and still will stay 
 
 The music of the bells. 
 
 M
 
 Sonnets, 
 
 HOME. 
 
 i. YOUTH. 
 
 LEST word ! thou dost recall the dearest place 
 Our hearts have ever known or lov'd ; where 
 
 we, 
 
 In childhood's years long past, so glad and free, 
 Could ever find that smiling love-lit face 
 
 Of mother, in whose sheltering warm embrace 
 Our childish griefs were hush'd so peacefully 
 To rest. In her fond love we seem'd to see 
 That love, which time nor death can e'er efface. 
 
 O memories dear to hearts cast down and tried ! 
 Ye come like gentle breezes from above, 
 To cool our aching brow at eventime, 
 
 And fill us with a longing deep to hide 
 Within the arms of Everlasting love 
 The cares and sorrows of our manhood's prime.
 
 HOME. 
 
 2. MANHOOD. 
 
 ING on, sweet bird, thy heart-outpouring lay ! 
 Whence come those thrilling tones, we know 
 
 full well; 
 
 The praise of that snug nest, thy home, they tell, 
 And of thy mate, still dearer day by day. 
 O happy birds and blessed hearts ! when they, 
 Who build the nest, with love's own raptures 
 
 swell ; 
 
 Beneath its hallowed beams content they dwell, 
 And make their home a heaven on earth alway. 
 The world's mad din in echoes faint they hear; 
 Its empty joys they heed not, nor its frown ; 
 For its sad griefs they shed a willing tear, 
 And yield a helping hand ; while for their own, 
 Home hath an oil and wine of potence rare, 
 Love's healing balm, to soothe each grief and 
 care.
 
 9 2 
 
 HOME. 
 
 3. OLD AGE. 
 
 WEARY ones, with hearts bereav'd and sore! 
 For you how precious are the peace and rest 
 Which home can give, when ye have strength 
 
 no more 
 
 To wage the fight of life, while in the west 
 Your sun is slowly sinking! Then how blest 
 If, as in memory oft ye ponder o'er 
 Life's varied pages, on some faithful breast 
 Ye lean, while those " not lost, but gone before " 
 Come back and smile as in some waking dream ; 
 And past and present seem but one, and ye 
 At times are longing for the last long sleep, 
 Which knows but peace, and, as ye truly deem, 
 Will give back your belov'd, from partings free, 
 In that bright Home on high, where none may 
 weep.
 
 93 
 
 THE LABOURERS' HIRE. 
 
 MASTER ! what for us shall be the " hire " ? 
 
 Dare we indeed the end anticipate ? 
 We, who for Thee began to work so late, 
 Or we who, working longer, often tire, 
 
 Or work not with a willing heart's desire ? 
 Wilt Thou our feeble hands compassionate, 
 And our imperfect deeds with Thine so great 
 Amend ; and with Thy love cleanse as with fire ? 
 
 Then may we still toil on, though weak our heart, 
 Though, faint and weary, oft our spirits quail, 
 Still striving each to do our little part : 
 
 The wish'd-for rest, we know shall never fail, 
 When Thou, as evening shadows gently fall, 
 Shalt bid, the labourers from the vineyard call.
 
 94 
 
 THEY SUPPOSED THEY SHOULD 
 HAVE RECEIVED MORE." 
 
 F 
 
 OND thought, still haunting many a faithful 
 heart 
 
 Which in the vineyard serve the Saviour Lord, 
 And, in obedierice to His blessed word, 
 Strives to fulfil the God-appointed part. 
 
 How natural on such a task to start 
 With high anticipations of success, 
 Aims which we feel our Lord will largely bless, 
 Then falter under disappointment's smart. 
 
 What strange presumption, pride, and fantasy ! 
 For what desert have e'en our bravest strife, 
 Our costliest sacrifice, our largest dole r 
 
 Enough, if ours the promised gift may be 
 
 To share Thy lot, O Lord, who gave Thy life 
 To save from utter loss each thankless soul. 
 
 A. P. P. C., March, 1887. 
 
 NOTE. The Author of the above Sonnet, the Dean of York, kindly 
 gives me permission to insert it here ; interesting as being suggested 
 by the same parable as the preceding one, and of value for its 
 intrinsic worth.

 
 95 
 
 SATURDAY EVENING. 
 
 ^_^_ 
 
 r^HE six days' work for hard-earn'd daily bread 
 
 Is done, and round the humble cottage fire 
 
 Creeps evening peace, in loving hearts to inspire 
 
 That heaven-sent joy, which of content is bred. 
 
 O'er all outside the village homes is spread 
 A calm, as on the upward-pointing spire 
 Of lowly Church, in silence all entire, 
 We gaze ; and, as amid the graves we tread, 
 
 Tho unsaid thought of love seems converse meet 
 With those at rest around the house of prayer. 
 O, holy ones ! are ye . not with us still 
 
 In peaceful home, in bustling mart and street, 
 To help us all our daily cross to bear, 
 For Sabbath morn our heart with joy to fill r
 
 9 6 
 
 DANTE'S "VITA NUOVA." 
 
 NOBLE suffering soul, here may we know, 
 And in our hearts the throbs of thine may 
 
 feel, 
 
 Before it bled with wounds time could not heal ! 
 In Beatrice's eyes, Love thee did shew 
 That blest new life of love in youth's first glow 
 So deep, so pure, so strong, that thou could'st 
 
 kneel, 
 
 As if to saint divine thou would'st reveal 
 The veneration of an ardent vow. 
 And yet in Beatrice's eyes all bliss 
 
 For thee, for us, we know can ne'er be. found ; 
 So when our heart's deep yearning would renew 
 Youth's glorious fervour, we so sadly miss, 
 
 Turn we, like thee, to Love which knows no 
 
 bound, 
 For Heaven's best gift, a life for ever new.
 
 97 
 
 DURHAM CATHEDRAL. 
 
 VISION grand ! 'twere surely no surprise 
 To know this house of God from heaven 
 
 had come, 
 
 Descending from the far-off azure skies, 
 To grace this spot of earth, a very home 
 For souls devout; and that on angel's plume 
 'Twill leave in sight of our enraptur'd eyes 
 This beauteous hill, when sounds the trump of 
 
 doom 
 
 That calls earth's waiting sleepers to arise. 
 As in this lovely vale we take our way, 
 
 And gaze in wonder on these graceful towers, 
 So fairly gleaming in the light of day, 
 Do they not seem to speak to heart of ours, 
 And raise our lagging thoughts from things 
 
 terrene 
 To the great jasper-city walls serene !
 
 TO THE PRIMROSE. 
 
 XI? AIR flower, so dear in childhood's joyous time ! 
 To look on thee, and thy sweet breath inhale, 
 Like magic wand can take us to the vale 
 Where all the woodland banks in spring's fresh 
 prime 
 
 With thee were bright ; while in their notes sublime 
 The songsters told thy praise, until the dale 
 Seem'd likest Paradise, beyond the veil 
 That hides the home to which our thoughts 
 
 would climb ! 
 
 Thou pale, meek flower ! O teach our wayward 
 heart 
 
 Again to seek the peace it once did know, 
 Ere yet earth's stains had soiled its garments 
 
 fair; 
 
 When, sweet as is thy scent, it could impart 
 A fervent love, all beauteous with the glow 
 Of truth, and pure as childhood's lisping prayer.
 
 99 
 
 THE SILVER WEDDING. 
 
 HAPPY souls, in love long-tried and well ! 
 What joy, as on the years long past ye 
 
 gaze, 
 
 To find in life's oft dark, perplexing ways, 
 Yourselves still closer bound by love's own spell ! 
 O blessed home, the heart's strong citadel, 
 Upon whose altar burns no dazzling blaze, 
 But love's own fire, to warm with glowing rays 
 Those hearts, that oft with grateful gladness 
 
 swell ! 
 And now, as auburn turns to silver'd gray, 
 
 While hand in hand ye tread life's downward 
 
 slope, 
 
 Still cheering, strengthening each along the way, 
 May the bright bow of God's eternal hope 
 
 Beam o'er you, till shall set life's westering sun, 
 And ye shall hear the welcome words "Well 
 done!" 

 
 100 
 
 CONSTANCY. 
 
 r I ""HEY wander' d thro' the oft-frequented vale, 
 Where, in their childhood's days so blest 
 
 and free, 
 
 Time sped on gladsome wings of mirth and glee ; 
 And where one evening, 'neath the moonbeams 
 pale, 
 
 She listen' d, trembling, to the oft-told tale 
 Of love ; and in her heart she vow'd that he 
 Should find, in truest love and constancy, 
 That she for him thro' all would never fail. 
 
 And now draws gently on the eve of life, 
 When, after the fierce glare of noontide heat, 
 And all the bitter blasts of this world's scorn, 
 
 They still trudge on as loving man and wife, 
 At times with drooping hands and wearied feet, 
 Yet looking for the Everlasting Morn.
 
 101 
 
 VOICES OF THE SEA. 
 
 |\ yf Y lonely course was by the heaving sea, 
 
 1 V 1 Whose waves made music for my troubled 
 
 soul; 
 
 I heard those voices 'mid their sullen roll 
 Which here on earth no more shall speak with 
 me! 
 
 And tones there were of deep solemnity ; 
 The knell of buried hopes they seem'd to toll, 
 That once with joy could all my heart control, 
 But now, alas ! lie dead in calm serenity. 
 
 O buried hopes ! O hearts that beat no more ! 
 I listen to the wailings of the deep, 
 Which now in restless mournful beatings toss, 
 
 Until upon this pleasant moonlit shore 
 
 My burthen'd heart hath moan'd itself to sleep, 
 To rest for ever 'neath my Saviour's cross.
 
 102 
 
 ABSENCE. 
 
 TV /T Y sweetest love, how oft of thee I think ! 
 
 *** On morning's earliest beams I hie away 
 In thought upon thy breast my head to lay, 
 Where oft from love's own lips I fondly drink 
 
 His godlike nectar ; and when comes day's brink, 
 And I am weary of life's fight and fray, 
 How sweet, as falls the quiet evening gray, 
 In musings of thy love all ills to sink ! 
 
 O love, how dark, without thy cheering light, 
 The lives in fretful toil we wear out here ! 
 But when, like morning's sun, all clear and 
 bright 
 
 Upon our troubled lot thou dost appear, 
 Our toil shines fair as with celestial rays, 
 Calm falls our even and joy crowns our days.
 
 "TO-DAY SHALT THOU BE WITH 
 ME IN PARADISE." 
 
 "I ~\ 7TTH Thee to be in Paradise to-day, 
 * * O gentle soul ! The afterwards for me, 
 When from the world my guilty soul should flee, 
 All dark and hopeless loom'd ; but now a ray 
 
 So bright hath beam'd, I cast my fears away, 
 And all the tortures of the dreaded tree 
 Are sooth'd, while now my soul may rest on Thee, 
 And gazing thus would ever by Thee stay. 
 
 O shameful deed ! to torture thus that frame 
 So worn ! Those tender hands raised but to bless ! 
 My God ! can this be then a sacrifice, 
 
 And Thy great love untold the altar flame ? 
 But see ! He dies, and I am in distress, 
 Until with Him I rest in Paradise.
 
 104 
 
 EASTER EVEN. 
 
 r I ^HE last dread conflict o'er, Thou art at rest! 
 Thy bitter foes, their vengeance wreak'd, 
 
 are gone ; 
 
 Thy dear ones, weeping, lonely, all undone, 
 Have laid Thee gently down on earth's cold 
 
 breast, 
 
 Where for awhile Thy wounded heart is blest 
 With peace, such peace as Thou for us hath won, 
 When all life's trials o'er, its day's work done, 
 Weary and weak, we crave a little rest. 
 
 O Saviour dear! when on our aching heart 
 
 
 The world's sad evil ways so darkly press, 
 
 And sin and grief becloud the path we tread, 
 Help Thou us then with Thee to go apart, 
 Stand by Thy grave, and know the blessedness 
 Of conquer'd self, and sin in Thee laid dead.
 
 EASTER DAY. 
 
 O GLORIFIED ! death's bonds asunder burst, 
 With alleluias loud we hail Thee free, 
 While Heaven resounds with songs of victory ! 
 With trembling faith Thy loved ones scarce 
 
 durst 
 
 Believe the blessed truth, that Thou should'st first 
 Bow Thy meek head in woe to death's decree, 
 And then for evermore to us should'st be 
 The mighty Victor of our foe accurst ! 
 O joyous day ! The dreadful night is past ! 
 And Hope in glorious Easter beams all bright 
 Can see, beyond earth's parting pangs so drear, 
 Those meetings, which she knows will come at 
 
 last, 
 When dawns the Easter-day that hath no 
 
 night, 
 And God Himself doth wipe away each tear.
 
 io6 
 
 BY THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 T "X 7 ITH hearts that beat in unison, we went 
 Along the margin of the summer sea, 
 Whose glancing waves seem'd full of joyous 
 
 glee, 
 
 And of their gladness to our hearts they lent. 
 The evening's calm, our spirit's sweet content, 
 Spread o'er the beauteous scene all peacefully 
 The precious rest so full of hope, which we, 
 To bless our souls, deem'd Heaven itself had 
 
 sent. 
 No vocal hymn of thanks our voices sung, 
 
 And yet more grateful hearts than ours that 
 
 eve 
 
 Ne'er moved to joyous tones a willing tongue ; 
 And He who knows all thoughts, we can believe, 
 From our full hearts ask'd not for words, or 
 more 
 
 Than waves' sweet praises by that pleasant 
 shore.
 
 io 7 
 
 CALLED AWAY. 
 
 " T~\ ISE up, my love, my fair one, come away ;" 
 -*-^- The wintry sky, poor dove, is sad and 
 
 drear ; 
 
 For thee shall beam a far serener day, 
 Beneath My smile the sky is bright and clear. 
 
 Thy tender yearnings, and thy love sincere, 
 That crave with mourning hearts a longer stay, 
 Leave thou with Me; and I will bring them 
 
 here 
 
 " When day shall break and shadows flee 
 away." 
 
 Come, then, my dove, and rest thy pinions weak, 
 Refreshment sweet for thy poor weary heart, 
 Reward have I for patient love and meek, 
 
 So tired with earth's sad toil and bitter smart ; 
 For thee here rest eternal shall begin : 
 
 "Then He put forth His hand and took her in."
 
 io8 
 
 TO THE DEPARTED. 
 
 "\7E dear departed ones, in God's peace blest, 
 -*~ Whose forms we laid beneath earth's shel- 
 tering sod, 
 Or which 'neath ocean's waves the trump of 
 
 God 
 
 Await, that calls to everlasting rest : 
 How with those mortal frames, which did invest 
 Your love when side by side with us ye trod 
 Life's path, ye have laid by each soiling clod 
 Of imperfection on your mother's breast ! 
 O death ! how sweet their memories thou dost 
 
 keep; 
 
 Their love for us for evermore is sure, 
 Free from earth's change. So let them rest 
 
 awhile, 
 
 Till in life's eve we, too, would fall asleep, 
 To wake and find our loved ones all pure, 
 And glorified beneath our Father's smile.
 
 109 
 
 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 FAIR Babe that smil'st from lowly manger- 
 bed, 
 
 To Thee we bring each heart-inspiring lay, 
 While round each love-blest hearth this home- 
 
 lov'd day 
 
 Are gladly gather' d dear ones, hither led 
 By tenderest ties ; and hearts that oft have bled 
 Are sooth' d and heal'd ; and dear ones far away 
 In spirit arms are fondly clasp'd, till they 
 Smile too with us in beams from Bethlehem 
 
 shed. 
 
 Bring carol quaint or hymn devout that tells 
 The gladsome joys of happy Christmas-tide, 
 And as o'er all the land the clanging bells 
 Resound, and spread the message far and wide, 
 Even sadden'd hearts shall feel the joy that 
 dwells 
 
 Where lowly love with Bethlehem's babe doth 
 bide.
 
 no 
 
 THE CHRISTMAS BELLS. 
 
 "\7E happy bells, your voices sweet and clear 
 -*- Again with our home-gladden'd hearts keep 
 time, 
 
 And in your joyous tones we seem to hear 
 That blest angelic choral song sublime ! 
 
 As on your wings of praise on high we climb, 
 Ye call us each to lay aside all fear ; 
 And while we list your merry clanging chime, 
 To leave the cares that often vex us here ! 
 
 O happy hearts, as now in tune to-day, 
 
 Once more ye learn the old story ever new ; 
 Shed forth on all around the cheering light 
 
 Of smiling love, and in your deeds allay 
 
 Some pangs of want and pain, that thus for you 
 The Christmas bells may tell their tale aright.
 
 Ill 
 
 MORNING. 
 
 HAIL, beauteous morn ! How fair each early 
 beam ! 
 
 Lead on thine hours in brightening, glad array, 
 And as the rising lark salutes the day 
 Let grateful hearts take up the joyous theme ; 
 While far and near, o'er hill and sparkling stream, 
 Melodious wake the tuneful songsters gay, 
 As joyful thus they would their matins say, 
 And hymn their bounteous Maker's praise 
 
 supreme. 
 Come, then, dear heart, be heard no murmuring 
 
 voice ; 
 
 Away with fears that peace of mind destroy. 
 Shall we, too, not with all around rejoice ? 
 For us all nature wakes again with joy; 
 
 Now make we duty's path our glorious choice, 
 And there our willing hands find meet employ.
 
 112 
 
 JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 "And after that they shut up the gates, which when I had seen I 
 wished myself among them." Pilgrim's Progress. 
 
 O WONDROUS dreamer, with thy power 
 ' divine, 
 
 How all our pilgrim-life thy dream hath told 
 Our load of sin, our hopes, our doubts so cold, 
 The fearful battle with the foe malign ; 
 And Beulah's beauteous land, where none repine^ 
 We long to see ; we dare with joy " be bold," 
 While we with thee in living faith behold 
 The New Jerusalem on high to shine. 
 When, as thy gaze beyond the gates did pass, 
 Which open'd wide to let thy pilgrims in, 
 And thou didst feast thine eyes, oft filled with 
 
 tears, 
 
 Well may we feel that thou could'st wish, alas ! 
 That thou had'st done with this world's care 
 
 and sin, 
 To rest amid that throng for endless years. 
 

 
 3n flDemoriam. 
 
 DR. J. P. BELL, OF HULL. 
 
 "T>ESIDE the grave a voice fell on mine ear, 
 * ' Which told of peace eternal, and of "rest 
 
 From labour " 'mid the glories of the blest ! 
 
 Sweet words of comfort to the lov'd and dear ! 
 Your Father wipes away the trembling tear. 
 
 O leave your lov'd one on his Saviour's breast, 
 
 Who call'd him hence to peace ; He knoweth 
 best 
 
 When for us all to end our labour here. 
 O gracious soul, who here with us didst tread 
 
 The path so clearly marked by virtues three ! 
 
 We doubt not, in that glorious lodge on high, 
 Our Master all thy wish doth gratify 
 
 In fullest light of immortality, 
 
 And for thy works the words " We^, done!" 
 hath said. 
 

 
 THE RISING MOON. 
 
 forth, O queen, in radiant beauty fair! 
 Unveil, and beam thy spirit-soothing light, 
 Thou calm, majestic empress of the night ! 
 And while my soul is freed from clouds of care, 
 
 And seeks thy undisturbed peace to share, 
 O let me rest awhile from earth's drear fight, 
 And mount on spirit-wings unto the height 
 Where reigns Heaven's bliss without impair ! 
 
 How sweet, when all the toils of day are o'er, 
 On pure devotion's wings to rise, and leave 
 Behind awhile each heavy earthly cross, 
 
 To seek new strength of heart, and patience 
 
 more 
 
 In loving trust to wait and to receive 
 His peace, to which all earthly gain is loss.
 
 LOVE'S FEAST. 
 
 ' ' Can the children of the Bridechamber fast while the Bridegroom 
 is with them ?" 
 
 HOW could they fast while Thou, their Lord 
 divine, 
 Before their faint and hungering souls didst 
 
 spread 
 
 Thy bounteous feast of love, which, as they fed, 
 Seem'd manna, angels' food and choicest wine ? 
 Such precious words fell from those lips of Thine, 
 Like honey, while Thy loving eyes did shed 
 Such joy that all life's fears are fled. 
 Not now they fast, but feast on food divine ! 
 But now the Bridegroom's voice we hear no more, 
 And we must fast as through the desert drear 
 We journey on, content with foretaste meet 
 Enough for pilgrim-needs, our daily store, 
 Till at the Supper of the Lamb we hear 
 The Bridegroom's voice His bride in glory 
 greet.
 
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