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173
FROM MY STUDY WINDOW.
(MILFORD HALL, KIRKBY WHARFE, 1863–1866.)
From my Study-window,
Down a vista green,
In the hazy distance,
A grey Church-tower is seen;—
Across my quiet garden,
Between the elm-trees high,
Its dark, shadowy outline
Stands forth against the sky;—
Across my bowery orchard
Upon the horizon blue,
O'er field and lane and woodland,
It terminates the view.
Down a vista green,
In the hazy distance,
A grey Church-tower is seen;—
Across my quiet garden,
Between the elm-trees high,
Its dark, shadowy outline
Stands forth against the sky;—
Across my bowery orchard
Upon the horizon blue,
O'er field and lane and woodland,
It terminates the view.
174
From my Study-window,
As from Prophet's bower,
Daily I sit gazing
On that old Church-tower;
While the trains incessant,
In the distance seen,
Passing and repassing
Cross that vista green;
And their white smoke curling
Hides the Church-tower grey
Only for a moment,
Then vanishes away.
As from Prophet's bower,
Daily I sit gazing
On that old Church-tower;
While the trains incessant,
In the distance seen,
Passing and repassing
Cross that vista green;
And their white smoke curling
Hides the Church-tower grey
Only for a moment,
Then vanishes away.
That thin fleeting vapour
Daily I behold
Blotting out the Church-tower
Long centuries old:
Like a veil it rises,
Hanging in the air,
The tower is lost an instant,
Then again is there:
Thus in that green vista,
All the livelong day,
Pass the trains incessant,
Stands the Church-tower grey.
Daily I behold
Blotting out the Church-tower
Long centuries old:
Like a veil it rises,
Hanging in the air,
175
Then again is there:
Thus in that green vista,
All the livelong day,
Pass the trains incessant,
Stands the Church-tower grey.
And manifold reflections
Strike upon my mind:—
In that fleeting vapour
Man's brief Life I find—
We are here a moment,
Then no more are seen,
Quickly disappearing
As if we ne'er had been;
Like that white smoke curling
In the distance blue,
Floating there an instant,
Then vanishing from view.
Strike upon my mind:—
In that fleeting vapour
Man's brief Life I find—
We are here a moment,
Then no more are seen,
Quickly disappearing
As if we ne'er had been;
Like that white smoke curling
In the distance blue,
Floating there an instant,
Then vanishing from view.
176
But that Church-tower ancient,
Standing as of yore,
Steadfast through past ages,
Strong for ages more,
Seems of Time a symbol
Gazing on the strife,
The noise and stir unceasing,
And restlessness of life:
Above the smoke and discord
Rises that tranquil tower,
As Time looks down serenely
On Life's brief feverish hour.
Standing as of yore,
Steadfast through past ages,
Strong for ages more,
Seems of Time a symbol
Gazing on the strife,
The noise and stir unceasing,
And restlessness of life:
Above the smoke and discord
Rises that tranquil tower,
As Time looks down serenely
On Life's brief feverish hour.
Again, as that white vapour
Conceals the Church-tower grey—
Hangs like a veil before it,
Then quickly rolls away;
So cloudy mists of Error
The face of Truth may veil,
And triumph for a moment,
But Truth can never fail:
The smoke of human systems
Will vanish into air,
But Truth shall stand for ever,
Immutable and fair.
Conceals the Church-tower grey—
Hangs like a veil before it,
Then quickly rolls away;
So cloudy mists of Error
The face of Truth may veil,
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But Truth can never fail:
The smoke of human systems
Will vanish into air,
But Truth shall stand for ever,
Immutable and fair.
At times that distant Church-tower
Seen clear against the sky
Appears to me to beckon
My lingering soul on high;
It bids me not to loiter
In Life's dim avenue,
But seek that far off glory
Beyond the horizon blue—
Where past Earth's mists and changes
The Heavenly Temple stands,
Jerusalem the golden,
The House not made with hands.
Seen clear against the sky
Appears to me to beckon
My lingering soul on high;
It bids me not to loiter
In Life's dim avenue,
But seek that far off glory
Beyond the horizon blue—
Where past Earth's mists and changes
The Heavenly Temple stands,
Jerusalem the golden,
The House not made with hands.
178
Thus from my Study-window
I gaze with thoughtful eyes,
And gather sacred emblems
And calmly moralize;
While on the blue horizon,
Far down the vista green,
That venerable Church-tower
Against the sky is seen;
And frequent trains resounding
Across the vista glide,
And with their curling vapour
The tower a moment hide.
I gaze with thoughtful eyes,
And gather sacred emblems
And calmly moralize;
While on the blue horizon,
Far down the vista green,
That venerable Church-tower
Against the sky is seen;
And frequent trains resounding
Across the vista glide,
And with their curling vapour
The tower a moment hide.
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