Ballads of the North and Other Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Ballads of the North and Other Poems

By Harriet Eleanor Hamilton King

King, Harriet Eleanor Baillie-Hamilton (1840-1920)

BALLADS OF THE NORTH

THE BALLAD OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN.

THE GLASTONBURY THORN.

LONDON STREETS

MISCELLANEOUS.

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108

FAREWELL HYMN FOR BISHOP SMYTHIES OF EAST AFRICA.

St. Alban's, October 10th, 1888.

Christ has called thee. On thy mission
Thou art going forth to-day;
Home and country, ease and safety,
These are bonds to hold and stay:
Stronger is the hand constraining;—
Christ is calling,—come away!

Down the jungle-swamps of fever,
Down the dark slave-driver's track,
Through the roaring of the lions,
Through the Unknown, shapeless, black,
Through the savage hosts of slaughter,
Christ is leading :—look not back!

109

Dearer than all else, He draws thee
Where no stream of gladness runs;
He has given thee His message
To His most forsaken sons;
Filled thy heart with His own pity
For His sheep, the long-lost ones.

Some have gone before, and fallen,
Not until their work could stand:—
Follow, to fill up their places,
With the torch from hand to hand,
Till the African vast blackness
Glitters with a beacon-band!

Lights are shining in dark places,
Seeds are springing from the tomb,
O'er the desert-wastes already
Breaks the Rose of Martyrdom;
Saints we knew with dusky faces
Smile upon us out of home.

110

Speed thee! Here are tears of parting,
Friend looks sadly upon friend;
Shall we here once more have meeting?
What shall be His crown to send?
In the peace He gives thou goest;
God be with thee to the end!