The Legend of the Golden Prayers and other poems By C. F. Alexander |
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| I. | I.
THE VOICE OF LAMENTATION. |
| II. |
| III. |
 | The Legend of the Golden Prayers and other poems |  |
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I. THE VOICE OF LAMENTATION.
When the crimson ray
Of parting day
On the fire-tipp'd mountains dies away,
Who would not love
To pass above,
Where the silver clouds like snow-flakes move!
Of parting day
On the fire-tipp'd mountains dies away,
Who would not love
To pass above,
Where the silver clouds like snow-flakes move!
Beyond the bars
Where the first pale stars
Come riding out on their golden cars,
And learn the cause
That moves and draws
All natural things with its wondrous laws!
Where the first pale stars
Come riding out on their golden cars,
And learn the cause
That moves and draws
All natural things with its wondrous laws!
And oftener still
Our wayward will
Would know the reason of good or ill,
And seek to raise
The veil God lays
Over His deep mysterious ways.
Our wayward will
Would know the reason of good or ill,
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The veil God lays
Over His deep mysterious ways.
When some dear scheme
Of our life doth seem
Shiver'd at once like a broken dream,
And our hearts reel
Like ships that feel
A sharp rock grating against their keel.
Of our life doth seem
Shiver'd at once like a broken dream,
And our hearts reel
Like ships that feel
A sharp rock grating against their keel.
For, Oh! the tone
Of the children's moan,
Has haunted our ears since that midnight lone;
And tears have sprung,
And hearts been wrung,
For the musicless lip and the speechless tongue;
Of the children's moan,
Has haunted our ears since that midnight lone;
And tears have sprung,
And hearts been wrung,
For the musicless lip and the speechless tongue;
For the seal'd ear
That could not hear
When the red fire roar'd to the starlight clear,
Like the battle-cry,
When no help is nigh,
Of a terrible, unseen enemy.
That could not hear
When the red fire roar'd to the starlight clear,
Like the battle-cry,
When no help is nigh,
Of a terrible, unseen enemy.
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And far away,
By hill and bay,
Hearts have been mourning them night and day.
Where Foyle runs down
To her famous town,
Telling her banks of their old renown.
By hill and bay,
Hearts have been mourning them night and day.
Where Foyle runs down
To her famous town,
Telling her banks of their old renown.
Where the rays make
A silver wake,
Dancing in light on the shadowy lake,
Whose soft waves pour
For evermore,
With a regular fall on her shingly shore.
A silver wake,
Dancing in light on the shadowy lake,
Whose soft waves pour
For evermore,
With a regular fall on her shingly shore.
In the long reach
Of sandy beach,
Where the wild sea-eagles at Malin screech,
And rock-reefs stand,
Far out from the land,
Like a chieftain charging in front of his band.
Of sandy beach,
Where the wild sea-eagles at Malin screech,
And rock-reefs stand,
Far out from the land,
Like a chieftain charging in front of his band.
In grassy sweeps
Where the lone hut sleeps,
Rock'd by winds from the furzy steeps
Of hills that rest,
With gold on their breast,
Like kings in their regal garments drest.
Where the lone hut sleeps,
Rock'd by winds from the furzy steeps
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With gold on their breast,
Like kings in their regal garments drest.
There mothers weep
In anguish deep,
Starting at night in uneasy sleep,
And wave-wash'd reef,
And winds in the leaf,
Are set by their sorrow to songs of grief.
In anguish deep,
Starting at night in uneasy sleep,
And wave-wash'd reef,
And winds in the leaf,
Are set by their sorrow to songs of grief.
“Oh, for one breath,
In that hot death,
Of the cool wind over the fragrant heath;
Oh, for one wave,”
They cry, “to lave
Those poor, little hearts in their burning grave.”
In that hot death,
Of the cool wind over the fragrant heath;
Oh, for one wave,”
They cry, “to lave
Those poor, little hearts in their burning grave.”
God's Spirit sweet
Quench Thou the heat
Of our passionate hearts that rave and beat;
Quiet their swell,
And gently tell,
That God's right hand doeth all things well.
Quench Thou the heat
Of our passionate hearts that rave and beat;
Quiet their swell,
And gently tell,
That God's right hand doeth all things well.
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Under the shroud
Of His thunder cloud
Lie we still when His voice is loud,
And our hearts shall feel
His love-notes steal,
As a bird sings after the thunder-peal.
Of His thunder cloud
Lie we still when His voice is loud,
And our hearts shall feel
His love-notes steal,
As a bird sings after the thunder-peal.
O Spirit dear,
Bring Him us near,
Who bore our sorrows and felt our fear;
Who tenderly weighs
Each cross that He lays,
And saveth the soul that in mercy He slays.
Bring Him us near,
Who bore our sorrows and felt our fear;
Who tenderly weighs
Each cross that He lays,
And saveth the soul that in mercy He slays.
Tell us they heard
(Whom never a word
Of our articulate language stirr'd)
That sweeter speech
That shall one day reach
All nations and tongues—in the heart of each.
(Whom never a word
Of our articulate language stirr'd)
That sweeter speech
That shall one day reach
All nations and tongues—in the heart of each.
In the dark room,
When the shriek of doom
Echoless knock'd at their heart's dull gloom,
Tell us Christ came,
And call'd by name
Each little lamb from the scorching flame.
When the shriek of doom
Echoless knock'd at their heart's dull gloom,
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And call'd by name
Each little lamb from the scorching flame.
Tell us that He,
As erst with the “three,”
Walk'd with those six in their agony;
Drew them in nigher,
And wafted them higher,
To Heaven, whose chariot and horsemen are fire.
As erst with the “three,”
Walk'd with those six in their agony;
Drew them in nigher,
And wafted them higher,
To Heaven, whose chariot and horsemen are fire.
| The Legend of the Golden Prayers and other poems | |