University of Virginia Library


319

Songs.


321

National Hymn.

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WRITTEN BY REQUEST TO MUSIC BY ROSSINI.

O Lord most high,
Who art God and Father,
Hear Thou our cry,
While Thy children gather!
Lord of Peace, oh hearken,
Though war-clouds darken!
Do Thou our labours bless,
And crown them with success!
Bend from Thy glory now,
Hear each suppliant vow!
And on our children pour
Blessings evermore.
Guarded by Thee,
England shall be
Bright in Thy light,
Strong in Thy might,
Glorious and free!
Hero and saint,
Victors at last,
Bid us not faint,
But follow, follow fast.

322

Make us, we pray,
Loyal as they,
Faithful and brave,
Our country to save!
When in the grim fight,
Pierceth the dim light,
Through the cleft ranks that shall close no more,
Fearfully flashing,
Awfully crashing,
Death-furrows follow the cannon's roar.
When wounded lie,
Ready to die;
When death is braved,
That life may be saved;
Teach us to show
Mercy with might,
Pardon the foe,
Crown Thou the right!
Father, hear us!
Thou art near us!
Guard and cheer us
By Thy strong hand!
Then Art resplendent,
Labour attendant,
Shall bless our land!
Lord, bless the land we love,
God save our Queen!

323

Scotland's Welcome to H.R.H. Princess Louise.

Sweet Rose of the South! contented to rest
In the fair island home which thy presence has blessed:
From the Highlands resounding, glad welcome shall float,
And the Lowlands re-echo the jubilant note.
Merry England has loved thee and cherished thee long,
Her blessings go with thee in prayer and in song;
Bonnie Scotland has won thee, and lays at thy feet
Love tender and fervent, love loyal and sweet.
Chorus.
—Our own bonnie Scotland with welcome shall ring,
While greeting and homage we loyally bring;
The crown of our love shall thy diadem be,
And the throne of our hearts is waiting for thee.

Then come, like the sunrise that gilds with a smile
The dark mountains and valleys of lonely Argyle;
Golden splendour shall fall on the pale northern snow,
And with roselight of love the purple shall glow.
Though the voice that should bless, and the hand that should seal,
Is ‘away,’ and at rest in ‘the land o’ the leal,’
May the God of thy father look graciously down,
With blessings on blessings thy gladness to crown.
Chorus.
—Our own bonnie Scotland with welcome shall ring,
While greeting and homage we loyally bring;
The crown of our love shall thy diadem be,
And the throne of our hearts is waiting for thee.


324

Severn Song.

The Severn flow is soft and fair, as slowly
The light grows dim;
The sunset glow is soft and full, and holy
As evening hymn.
We float along beneath the forest darkling,
Blending with song the silence of the hour:
We swiftly glide where rapids bright and sparkling
Bear us beside the ruddy rock and tower.
O softly, softly row in measured time,
While nearer, nearer swells the curfew chime.
Now, now again adown the current shooting,
New joy we hail;
While through the forest thrills the fairy fluting
Of nightingale.
O sweet and sweeter that hidden lay,
That in the twilight dies away.
Then merrily onward! O merrily row!
And smoothly swift, O Severn, flow!
The Severn flow is swift and strong, as neareth
The home we love;
The sunset glow has paled and passed, and cleareth
The heaven above.
The children's eyes will soon be gently closing,
Calm stars arise and shine on earth instead;
And through the night, all peacefully reposing,
Angels of light shall guard each tiny bed.
O swiftly, swiftly row o'er darkening stream,
While nearer, nearer shines the home lamp's gleam.

325

Now, now awake the song of purest thrilling,
Of home and love;
And call the echoes forth, with music filling
The rocks above.
Our song is sweetest as falls the day,
For we are on our homeward way:
Then merrily onward! O merrily row!
And smoothly swift, O Severn, flow!

For Charity.

The sun is burning, O little maiden,
Thou hast sweet water, is it for me?
I am so thirsty, so heavy-laden,
Give me cool water, for charity!
Sparkling and gleaming,
The crystal streaming
Seems but awaiting my only plea—
I am so thirsty, so heavy-laden,
Give me cool water, for charity!
O gentle maiden, I thirst no longer,
But sweeter waters thou hast for me:
Then pour them freely, from fountain stronger,
Sweet thoughts of kindness, for charity!
The world is only
A pathway lonely,
And hearts are waiting for sympathy;
Then pour them freely from fountain stronger
Sweet thoughts of kindness, for charity!

326

O little maiden, 'tis thine to brighten,
Like sparkling waters, life's lonely lea;
All grief to soften, all joy to heighten
With love and gladness, for charity!
Thus onward flowing,
All good bestowing,
A stream of blessing thy life shall be,
All grief to brighten, all joy to heighten
With love and gladness, for charity!

The Devonshire Yeoman's Home.

Ten years ago to-day our wedding bells were rung,
When all along the winding lane wild roses hung;
And now the roses cluster on our own white walls,
And down the lane resound our merry children's calls.
There's sunshine on the moor and on the glittering sea,
And sunshine in our hearts as fresh and fair and free;
We would not change our lot for London gold,
For home, our own sweet home, is sweeter now tenfold.
No city seasons come our pleasant year to mar;
The hay—the fruit—the harvest-time are merrier far,
For pictures and for music rare we need but look
Around our home, and listen to the grand old Book.
The hours flow on from morning prayer to evening praise,
With trust that lightens, love that brightens darkest days;
For though ten years have passed, love grows not old,
And home, our own dear home, is dearer now tenfold.

327

The Dawn of May.

Come away, come away, in the dawn of May,
When the dew is sparkling bright;
When the woods are seen
All in golden green
In the crystal, crystal light.
The sweet perfume of violet bloom,
And hawthorn fragrance rare,
From the cool mossy shade,
Or the warm sunny glade,
Is filling all the air.
Come away, come away, in the dawn of May,
When the lark and the white cloud meet;
When the tuneful breeze,
In the old oak trees,
Is harping, harping sweet.
With joyous thrill and merry trill,
The thrush and blackbird vie,
As they chant loving lays,
And a full song of praise,
To the Lord of earth and sky.
Come away, come away, in the dawn of May,
In the pearly morning-time,
When the cowslips spring,
And the blue-bells ring
Their fairy, fairy chime.

328

With happy song, we march along,
And carol on our way,
One in heart, one in voice,
Let us all now rejoice
In the sunny dawn of May.

The Tyrolese Spring Song.

The meadows rejoice in their verdure so bright,
And glisten with pearl drops of dew,
The glaciers are gleaming in radiant light,
The breezes are fitful and few.
From heaven coming down, like a golden-haired child,
Fair Spring o'er the earth has sparklingly smiled,
With flower-twined staff, he goes forth o'er the wild.
The song of the birds and the herdsman's glad lay
Are heard in the morning so bright;
They sing when the bells, at the closing of day,
Awaken the stars of the night.
The swell of the joyous and heart-stirring song
Through mountain and valley is pealing along,
In a tide of rejoicing, all glorious and strong.
Then a fount of emotion awakes in the heart,
And the spirit is mightily stirred,
The Tyrolese longs from his roof to depart
To wander and roam as he will;
When the meadows rejoice in their emerald glow,
The sons of the mountain forth joyously go,
The world in its beauty and gladness to know.

329

My Messengers.

I said to the merry birds of the woods,
‘Carry a song to the Fair One!’
They twittered and trilled, for they quite understood,
And flew away blithely to bear one.
Then listen, if, tapping thy window sill,
They come with their chirping and singing,
O listen! for over forest and hill,
My message of love they are bringing.
I said to the lilies, ‘Carry for me,
Carry a smile to the Sweetest!’
They nodded and said, ‘Our sister is she,
That loveliest lily thou greetest.
O gather and send us,’ they whispered to me,
‘And bid us bloom fragrantly near her,
To waken her smile, rejoicing to be
Thy message of comfort to cheer her.’
I said to the golden stars of night,
‘O carry my love to the Dearest!
In darkness surrounding with silver light
The Brightest, the ever Nearest!’
And watchest thou now, my own, my love,
In weary and lonely sadness?
Look up to the stars in the heaven,
They bear thee my message of gladness.

330

God keep Thee.

O dark was the day when I left her alone,
My darling, so gentle, so dear!
O sad, yet O sweet was her silvery tone,
As she said, with a glistening tear:—
‘Oh, must thou go forth in the cold world to-day,
And leave me, to wander so far, far away?
Oh, think of the moments of joy that are flown,
And remember the love that is ever thine own!
Oh, Father, I pray, protect him alway,
Protect by night and by day!’
I left thee, indeed, in the cold world to roam,
Yet, darling, my heart stayed behind!
In dreams I come back to the dear little home,
And unaltered is all that I find.
And then, as I listen, I hear a soft tone
Float up from thy lips to the emerald throne,
‘Oh, keep him, and bless him, by night and by day,
And guard him for me while so far, far away.
Oh, Father, I pray, protect him alway,
Protect by night and by day!’
The ocean of life with its hurrying swell
Has drifted me far on its tide,
But only and ever my true heart shall dwell
In quiet and love at thy side.
And when all the wandering and drifting are o'er,
My rest and my haven, my golden-bright shore,

331

My joy, and my home, and my heart too, shall be
For ever, belovèd, for ever with thee!
Oh, Father, I pray, protect her alway,
Protect by night and by day!

Rose of Roses.

Oh, the treasures of the Spring,
Crimson, blue, and golden!
Scattered from her radiant wing,
Nothing is withholden.
Myriad blossoms ope each hour,
Who shall tell the fairest?
But I miss the sweetest flower,
Rose, of roses rarest.
Oh, the glory of the light,
Through the noontide beaming!
Oh, the stars of purple light,
Through the darkness gleaming!
But the star of softest ray,
Clearest, purest, whitest,
Shineth only far away,
Star, of stars the brightest!
Oh, the music everywhere!
Joyous larks are singing,
Rivulets are flowing fair,
Merry chimes are ringing.
But I miss from day to day
Music that is dearest,
Even thine, though far away,
Heart, of hearts the nearest.

332

Hast Thou a Thought?

When home I came after many a day
Of longing and waiting so far away,
I sought the path in the sunset glow,
Where the bright eyes watched for me long ago.
And the fair night fell as I whispered low,
‘Hast thou a thought of the wandered now?’
Then softly glimmered a sudden light,
And I saw thee lean from the casement bright,
And a name floated forth from a voice so sweet!
No doubting of heart and no lingering of feet!
For I hastened near, and I whispered low,
‘Hast thou a thought for the wanderer now?’
Then silently nestled my own sweet bird,
With a joy too deep for a song or word;
And I question no more, for the answer I know!
So I ask not aloud, and I ask not low,
Whether every night, whether every day,
Thou hadst a thought of thy love far away!

My Welcome.

I have waited for thy coming, love,
As the song-bird waits for spring,
Ere the echo of his merry lay
Makes the forest arches ring;

333

But when the spring is gone, love,
And summer's glory fills,
How musical the hush, love,
Between the shadowy hills.
I have waited for thy coming, love,
Yet bring to greet thee near,
Nor laugh, nor words, nor carol gay,
But stillness and a tear;
But if I know thy heart, love,
And if thou readest mine,
This welcome is the best, love,
The truest, fondest sign.

A Wife's Letter.

[_]

‘Not that I've anything special to say, but only that it comes from me.’—E. to G., Jan. 11, 1869.

My Own!
You won't expect to hear
As you have only just departed,
But I'll be better than you fear,
And write as soon as you have started.
It seems a long and tiresome day;
I'm merely writing, as you see,
Not that I've anyting to say,
But only that it comes from me.
I watched the carriage out of sight,
And then came back to do my work;
I could not set the stitches right,
And so for once the task I'll shirk;

334

I've put the children's frocks away
To write a line or two to thee,
Not that I've anything to say,
But only that it comes from me.
I hope the train will not be late,
And that it will not freeze or rain,
And oh! if you should have to wait,
Be sure you don't catch cold again.
I wish this moment on the way
To overtake you I could be!
Not that I've anything to say,
But only to be nearer thee.
'Tis six-and-twenty hours almost
Before I see you, as I've reckoned;
But you'll get this by early post,
And you'll be home before the second.
I'd like to sit and write all day
To Some One, if my hands were free,
Not that I've anything to say,
But only that it comes from me.
Though this is such a stupid letter,
With love and kisses 'tis impearled;
I know that you will like it better
Than all the poems in the world.
I trust that all is safe and well,
Although I am not there to see;
I've nothing else, my Own, to tell,
But only that this comes from me.

335

The Husband's Reply.

Five minutes all I have to spare,
But these, my Own, I give to you!
Your precious letter's lying there,
So full and fond, so dear and true.
I think you'll hardly hope to hear,
As I shall soon be home again,
But you'll get this at seven, dear,
I'm due at eight, and then—oh then!
A hurried word or two assures
That all is safe and well, my dove.
My notes are not so long as yours,
Though worth as much in golden love.
So where I've been, and whom I've seen,
And how, and why, and what, and when,
I'll tell you when we meet, my queen,
At eight o'clock,—and then—oh then!

Only for One.

I have a smile my friends to greet,
Hearty and pleasant for all I meet,
Hidden from none:
But I have a smile that they do not know,
Lit by a deeper, tenderer glow,
And I keep it bright in my heart below,
Only for one!

336

I have a song for every ear,
Leaving an echo to soothe and cheer
When it is done:
But I have a music of truer beat,
Not to be poured at the great world's feet,
Richer and softer and far more sweet,
Only for one!
I have a love for all who care
Aught of its warmth to claim, or share,
Free as the sun;
But I have a love which I do not hint,
Gold that is stamped with my soul's imprint,
A wealth of love, both mine and mint,
Only for one!

One for the Other.

Was it ‘only for one,’ dear, ‘only for one,’
That the smile, and the song, and the love should be?
Then a smile shall flash, and a song shall flow,
And a deep, deep love shall thrill and glow,
Only for thee, dear, only for thee!
For so shall it be,
One for the other—nevermore lonely,
One for the other—ever and only.
The blossoms that now at my feet you lay
Shall be golden fruit for you and me,
When spring and summer have passed away,
And softly falls the autumn day,

337

Like the close of a holy melody.
For so shall it be,
One for the other—nevermore lonely,
One for the other—ever and only.
Yes! one for the other, blessing and blessed,
In the strength of His gladness, calm and bright,
But with more of blessing and love for all,
The smile shall beam, and the song shall fall,
Touching the shadows around with light,—
Because it shall be
One for the other—nevermore lonely,
One for the other—ever and only!

Thinking together, or Gravitation.

Of what are you thinking now, dear,
Now that good-night is said,
Now that the children's eyes are shut,
And the stars shine out instead;
Now that the far church-clock sounds near,
For the world is all so still,
And the cottage twinkle has long gone out
On the slope of the fir-crowned hill?
Of what are you thinking now, dear?
Could a thought-flash reach me here,
The message would not surprise me,
But only strengthen and cheer.

338

For love has told it already,
That seer so bold and true!
I know you are thinking of me, dear,
For I am thinking of you.
I know you are thinking of me, dear,
For the whirl of the day hath ceased,
The circling force is spent at last,
And our spirits are released;
And heart to heart hath swiftly turned
After the lonely strife,
For each is the centre of each, dear,
By the law of our truest life.
We have but one other thought, dear,
In these quiet, restful hours,
And that is of Him whose love is twined
In a threefold cord with ours.
So you are thinking of me, dear,
And I am thinking of you,
And He is thinking of us both:
Is it not sweet and true?

There is Music by the River.

There is music by the river,
And music by the sea,
And music in the waterfall
That gusheth glad and free,

339

There is music in the brooklet
That singeth all alone,
There is music in the fountain
With its silver-tinkling tone.
But the music of thy spirit
Is sweeter far to me
Than the melody of rivers,
Or the anthems of the sea.
Why should I dwell in silence
When the music is so near
That may overflow my spirit
So full, so clear!
Oh! let me listen!
There is music in the forest,
A myriad-voicèd song;
And music on the mountains
As the great winds rush along:
There is music in the gladness
Of morning's merry light,
And in silence of the noontide,
And in hush of starry night.
But a deeper, holier music
Is the music of thy soul,
And I think the angels listen
As its starry echoes roll.
Why should I dwell in silence
When the music that is thine
May overflow my spirit
And blend—with mine!
Oh! let me listen!

340

‘The Shining Light, that shineth more and more unto the Perfect Day.’

[_]

Prov. iv. 18.

A year ago the gold light
Sweet morning made for me;
A tender and untold light,
Like music on the sea.
Light and music twining
In melodious glory,
A rare and radiant shining
On my changing story.
To-day the golden sunlight
Is full and broad and strong;
The glory of the One light
Must overflow in song;
Song that floweth ever,
Sweeter every day,
Song whose echoes never,
Never die away.
How shall the light be clearer
That is so bright to-day?
How shall the hope be dearer
That pours such joyous ray?
I am only waiting
For the answer golden,
What faith is antedating
Shall not be withholden.

341

Golden Land.

Far from home alone I wander
Over mountain and pathless wave,
But the fair land that shineth yonder
Claimeth the love that erst it gave
Golden Land, so far, so nearing!
Land of those who wait for me!
Ever brighter the vision cheering,
Glden Land, I haste to thee!
On my path a golden sunlight
Softly falls where'er I roam,
And I know it is the one light
Both of exile and of home.
Golden Land, so far, so near,
On my heart engraven clear,
Though I wander from strand to strand,
Dwells my heart in that Golden Land.

Twilight Voices.

(IN ILLNESS.)

What are the whispering voices
That awake at twilight fall?
Do they come from the golden sunset
With their haunting, haunting call?
They tell me of breezy spring-times,
And of dreamy summer eves,
And of snow-wreaths merrily shaken
From the shining ivy leaves.

342

But the far-off treble changeth
To a tenor tone, and so
I know that the voices tell me
Only of long ago.
I hear you, I hear you,
In the gentle twilight fall
Come to me, come!
With your haunting, haunting call.
What are the tuneful voices
That awake at early dawn?
Do they come from the orient portals
Of the palace of the morn?
They tell of a Golden City
With pearl and jasper bright,
And of shining forms that beckon
From the pure and dazzling light.
Then a rush of far-off harpings
Blends with the voices clear,
And I know that the night is passing,
And I know that the day is near!
I hear you, I hear you,
Sweet voices of the dawn!
Come to me, come!
In the early, early morn.