The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker Edited from the original manuscripts and annotated copies together with a prefatory notice and bibliography by Alfred Wallis |
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TO SOPHIE GRANVILLE THYNNE,
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 | The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker |  |
TO SOPHIE GRANVILLE THYNNE,
ON HER FIFTH BIRTHDAY.
With all that earth hath holy, and all that heaven hath blest,
We hail thy native morning, fairy princess of the West!
For thy father's blood is thrilling in the daughter of his race,
And thy mother's eyes are drooping in thy soft and gentle face.
We hail thy native morning, fairy princess of the West!
For thy father's blood is thrilling in the daughter of his race,
And thy mother's eyes are drooping in thy soft and gentle face.
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'Tis well those eyes were kindled where the sunset floods the plains,
For the western life of Granville is bounding in thy veins;
As a queen upon the dais shall thy future footsteps stand,
Thou shalt rule our Tamar side, a born lady of the land.
For the western life of Granville is bounding in thy veins;
As a queen upon the dais shall thy future footsteps stand,
Thou shalt rule our Tamar side, a born lady of the land.
Like a brook alive with gladness shall thy happy girlhood flow
Where the heavens come down to rest, on the storied hills of Stowe;
And the billowy laugh of waters along thy native shore
Shall chant thy bridal morning with the sea's exulting roar.
Where the heavens come down to rest, on the storied hills of Stowe;
And the billowy laugh of waters along thy native shore
Shall chant thy bridal morning with the sea's exulting roar.
Ay! the children yet unborn shall arise and learn to trace
The old ancestral features, how they haunt thy matron-face;
For the self-same smile shall beam upon thine own, thy chosen knight,
That wooed the proud Sir Beville home from Stamford's gory fight.
The old ancestral features, how they haunt thy matron-face;
For the self-same smile shall beam upon thine own, thy chosen knight,
That wooed the proud Sir Beville home from Stamford's gory fight.
Lady Grace once more shall waken in her fair and happy prime:
God shield thee from such tears as fell at Lansdown's fatal time!
She will glide, and she will gleam again, her children at her knee,
For her innocence and loveliness were prophecies of thee.
God shield thee from such tears as fell at Lansdown's fatal time!
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For her innocence and loveliness were prophecies of thee.
So now, my gentle Sophie, I have sung this native song,
To pray in votive numbers for thy happy years and long;
Till thy father's ancient line shall revive beneath thy breast,
And thy mother's living eyes on thine own sweet babe shall rest.
To pray in votive numbers for thy happy years and long;
Till thy father's ancient line shall revive beneath thy breast,
And thy mother's living eyes on thine own sweet babe shall rest.
I hear thy days resounding, as they roll in gladness on,
'Mid other bards that greet thee, when I am hushed and gone:
For loftier tones shall waken, and happier voices flow,
To teach thy children's children the glories of old Stowe.
'Mid other bards that greet thee, when I am hushed and gone:
For loftier tones shall waken, and happier voices flow,
To teach thy children's children the glories of old Stowe.
1864.
| The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker | |