 | Rhapsodies |  |
93
LITTLE JOHN;
OR, THE BOY OF FEELING.
The children romp'd, the children play'd,
As merry as may be;
They leap'd, they ran, and halloo'd loud,
Beneath the green yew tree.
As merry as may be;
They leap'd, they ran, and halloo'd loud,
Beneath the green yew tree.
And though the place was lone and sad—
A church-yard dull and drear,
These little children were content,
For nought they knew of fear.
A church-yard dull and drear,
These little children were content,
For nought they knew of fear.
The monks from chapel were retired,
The vesper chaunt was done,
And curfew bells full long had told
The setting of the sun.
The vesper chaunt was done,
And curfew bells full long had told
The setting of the sun.
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But one there was, a little child,
A very little boy;
His cheeks were pale, his face was wan,
He knew no touch of joy.
A very little boy;
His cheeks were pale, his face was wan,
He knew no touch of joy.
His face was pale, nay very pale;
His eyes were sunk and sad,
And people said that little John
Was born but to go mad.
His eyes were sunk and sad,
And people said that little John
Was born but to go mad.
John had a little crucifix
Of virgin gold so bright,
Which rested on his milk-white breast,
And was his soul's delight.
Of virgin gold so bright,
Which rested on his milk-white breast,
And was his soul's delight.
And John behind a tomb-stone sat,
While other children play'd;
And little John gaz'd on the moon,
And wonder'd how 'twas made.
While other children play'd;
And little John gaz'd on the moon,
And wonder'd how 'twas made.
And then upon the stone he'd cast
A sad and wistful eye,
And then he'd crop the long rank weeds,
And vent full many a sigh.
A sad and wistful eye,
And then he'd crop the long rank weeds,
And vent full many a sigh.
95
“Ah! where is now my father dear?”
Poor John would often say:
“I wonder if in yon pale moon,
“That sheds so sad a ray?”
Poor John would often say:
“I wonder if in yon pale moon,
“That sheds so sad a ray?”
“Beneath this stone, when he was cold,
“They plac'd his gentle head,
“And since that time my brother's twain,
“And sisters, all are dead.
“They plac'd his gentle head,
“And since that time my brother's twain,
“And sisters, all are dead.
“And where these mounds of earth now rise,
“My brothers peaceful sleep;
“And where these hillocks green appear,
“My sisters lay full deep.
“My brothers peaceful sleep;
“And where these hillocks green appear,
“My sisters lay full deep.
“I wonder if with dove-like wings,
“And form'd like angels fair,
“They sing the praise of Christ the Lord,
“And sail through yonder air?
“And form'd like angels fair,
“They sing the praise of Christ the Lord,
“And sail through yonder air?
“And if they do, I wonder much
“If they again will know,
“And speak to me, poor little John,
“When I am laid full low?”
“If they again will know,
“And speak to me, poor little John,
“When I am laid full low?”
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And little John drew forth the cross,
And sad he look'd and sigh'd,
For father, brothers, sisters, all,
Possess'd it e're they died.
And sad he look'd and sigh'd,
For father, brothers, sisters, all,
Possess'd it e're they died.
But Johnny was the youngest child,
So last to him it came;
He kiss'd it oft, then bless'd the Lord,
And sigh'd his father's name.
So last to him it came;
He kiss'd it oft, then bless'd the Lord,
And sigh'd his father's name.
His mother tied it round his neck,
When all were dead and gone;
She, weeping, kissed the pretty lips
Of her lone son poor John.
When all were dead and gone;
She, weeping, kissed the pretty lips
Of her lone son poor John.
And John wept sore, and kiss'd the cheek
Of her that gave him breath;
And for his mother's sake, he pray'd
He might not sleep in death.
Of her that gave him breath;
And for his mother's sake, he pray'd
He might not sleep in death.
“For should I die,” quoth little John,
“What will my mother do?
“Oh! then her bursting heart will break,
“Cold death must be her due.
“What will my mother do?
“Oh! then her bursting heart will break,
“Cold death must be her due.
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“So I will live,” said little John,
“If it be Heaven's high will;
“If not, we both shall sleep in death,
“God's purpose to fulfil.”
“If it be Heaven's high will;
“If not, we both shall sleep in death,
“God's purpose to fulfil.”
So Johnny strove to laugh and sing
When in his mother's sight;
But when from her, all gloom he was;
His soul knew no delight.
When in his mother's sight;
But when from her, all gloom he was;
His soul knew no delight.
And secret thus with grief he pin'd,
Health's roses from him fled;
For pale his cheek, and sunk his eyes,
Like one through sickness dead.
Health's roses from him fled;
For pale his cheek, and sunk his eyes,
Like one through sickness dead.
And now the children play'd no more,
For homewards they were gone,
All save the melancholy child,
The tender-hearted John.
For homewards they were gone,
All save the melancholy child,
The tender-hearted John.
Yet Johnny staid, with thought oppress'd;
For, though a little boy,
He had a mind quite worn with grief,
Though once 'twas form'd for joy.
For, though a little boy,
He had a mind quite worn with grief,
Though once 'twas form'd for joy.
98
And by the tomb-stone still he sat,
And oft the cross would kiss;
For this was to his pensive soul
The ecstacy of bliss.
And oft the cross would kiss;
For this was to his pensive soul
The ecstacy of bliss.
At length, with sighs and tears o'ercome,
It fell upon his breast,
And little John dropp'd on the turf,
With heavy sleep oppress'd.
It fell upon his breast,
And little John dropp'd on the turf,
With heavy sleep oppress'd.
And as he slept, he dream'd there came,
In angels' robes array'd,
His father, brothers, sisters dear,
And thus his parent said:
In angels' robes array'd,
His father, brothers, sisters dear,
And thus his parent said:
“Sleep, little John, my well-belov'd;
“Sleep, sleep, my boy so dear!
“Anon thy troubles shall be hush'd,
“Anon thou'lt dry the tear.”
“Sleep, sleep, my boy so dear!
“Anon thy troubles shall be hush'd,
“Anon thou'lt dry the tear.”
And then his parent seem'd to smile;
His brothers smil'd also;
And eke the sisters of poor John
With smiles did sooth his woe.
His brothers smil'd also;
And eke the sisters of poor John
With smiles did sooth his woe.
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But now their forms 'gan fade away,
And with them Heaven's bright gleam;
And John seem'd in the church-yard still,
Beholding the moon beam.
And with them Heaven's bright gleam;
And John seem'd in the church-yard still,
Beholding the moon beam.
And then he thought his mother came,
And ey'd him o'er and o'er;
Yet something in her mien appear'd
He ne'er had mark'd before.
And ey'd him o'er and o'er;
Yet something in her mien appear'd
He ne'er had mark'd before.
She spake not, smil'd not, but look'd sad,
Nor kiss'd her darling boy;
She smil'd not sweetly, as of old,
Nor call'd him her heart's joy:
Nor kiss'd her darling boy;
She smil'd not sweetly, as of old,
Nor call'd him her heart's joy:
But livid now her skin appear'd,
And of the deadly dye;
And far more meagre seem'd her frame,
And far more sunk her eye.
And of the deadly dye;
And far more meagre seem'd her frame,
And far more sunk her eye.
The sight struck little John full deep,
It struck him to the heart;
His blood ran cold, and from his sleep
Poor little John did start.
It struck him to the heart;
His blood ran cold, and from his sleep
Poor little John did start.
100
When lo! beside him stood the form
Which late his fancy drew;
Though sad she gaz'd, though pale and wan,
His mother still he knew.
Which late his fancy drew;
Though sad she gaz'd, though pale and wan,
His mother still he knew.
“O, mother, mother! speak, I pray;
“Oh, prythee tell to me,
“Why thus you sought the lone church-yard?
“I'll straight speed home with thee.”
“Oh, prythee tell to me,
“Why thus you sought the lone church-yard?
“I'll straight speed home with thee.”
Still Johnny gaz'd, and trembled sore,
For nought his mother spake.
“Oh! answer me, my mother dear!
“My heart is nigh to break.”
For nought his mother spake.
“Oh! answer me, my mother dear!
“My heart is nigh to break.”
But nought she said; so John arose;
For dread he scarce could stand;
With tott'ring step he onward pac'd,
And caught his parent's hand.
For dread he scarce could stand;
With tott'ring step he onward pac'd,
And caught his parent's hand.
But chill and damp 'twas to the touch,
And heavy seem'd as lead:
“Ah, God! 'tis true,” cried little John,
“I know my mother's dead.”
And heavy seem'd as lead:
“Ah, God! 'tis true,” cried little John,
“I know my mother's dead.”
101
And as he spake, the convent bell
Toll'd heavily and slow;
It beat the solemn hour of one;
Quoth John, “The sound I know:
Toll'd heavily and slow;
It beat the solemn hour of one;
Quoth John, “The sound I know:
“Say, is it not the knell of death?
“Dear mother! tell to me;
“Ah! beats it not, my mother dear,
“Alike for me and thee?”
“Dear mother! tell to me;
“Ah! beats it not, my mother dear,
“Alike for me and thee?”
The form slow bow'd its pallid front,
While John the cross thrice press'd;
He dropp'd before the clay-cold form,
And sunk to endless rest.
While John the cross thrice press'd;
He dropp'd before the clay-cold form,
And sunk to endless rest.
And for their souls, the holy monks
A requiem sad did sing;
And for these twain the convent bells
Most dolefully did ring.
A requiem sad did sing;
And for these twain the convent bells
Most dolefully did ring.
The fathers and the mothers all
For little John did pray;
And children now turn'd sad at heart,
Of late so blithe and gay.
For little John did pray;
And children now turn'd sad at heart,
Of late so blithe and gay.
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Thus died the mother and the child,
The last of all their race;
And why? because they were too good
For this most sinful place.
The last of all their race;
And why? because they were too good
For this most sinful place.
So John's good mother chaunts on high,
And little John is bless'd;
His feeling soul for ever sleeps
Upon his Saviour's breast.
And little John is bless'd;
His feeling soul for ever sleeps
Upon his Saviour's breast.
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