 | The Dramatic and Poetical Works of Joanna Baillie |  |
ON THE DEATH OF A VERY DEAR FRIEND.
A spirit hath pass'd from her breezy hill,
From the sound of her trees and her tinkling rill,
From her broomy nooks and her twisted bowers,
And the splendid show of her cherish'd flowers,
As the sun shone out on her garden gay,
And dew-drops sparkled on stem and spray;
From the peasant's cot, where the housewife neat
Prepared for her the oft-wiped seat;
From the farmer's hold, where the dame's glad eye
Enhanced the parlour courtesy;
From the place, above all, she loved the best,
That mansion fair, her home of rest,
Where inmates dear were ever found
And sisterly affection sweetly fenced her round.
From the sound of her trees and her tinkling rill,
From her broomy nooks and her twisted bowers,
And the splendid show of her cherish'd flowers,
As the sun shone out on her garden gay,
And dew-drops sparkled on stem and spray;
From the peasant's cot, where the housewife neat
Prepared for her the oft-wiped seat;
From the farmer's hold, where the dame's glad eye
Enhanced the parlour courtesy;
From the place, above all, she loved the best,
That mansion fair, her home of rest,
Where inmates dear were ever found
And sisterly affection sweetly fenced her round.
This spirit, when clothed in mortal weeds,
Was full of Christian thoughts and deeds.
The simple sound of her well-known voice
Made lonely widow'd hearts rejoice;
And the sickly hind look'd from his bed
As he heard her steps on his threshold tread,
And, smiling momently, forgot
The pine and pain of his weary lot.
Was full of Christian thoughts and deeds.
The simple sound of her well-known voice
Made lonely widow'd hearts rejoice;
And the sickly hind look'd from his bed
As he heard her steps on his threshold tread,
And, smiling momently, forgot
The pine and pain of his weary lot.
Beneath his mistress, frank and kind,
Her gardener work'd with willing mind,
As though the very flowers would bloom
To please her with their rich perfume.
And when at times with spud or rake
She did his lighter toil partake,
Some neighbour's child would slily peep
Through wicket-fence, and near her creep,
Encouraged by a nod or smile,
And by her side chat busily the while;
For with such urchin folk right dearly
She loved to hold a playful parley.
Her gardener work'd with willing mind,
As though the very flowers would bloom
To please her with their rich perfume.
And when at times with spud or rake
She did his lighter toil partake,
Some neighbour's child would slily peep
Through wicket-fence, and near her creep,
Encouraged by a nod or smile,
And by her side chat busily the while;
For with such urchin folk right dearly
She loved to hold a playful parley.
Nor did such toward spots alone declare
Her pleasing fancy and her skilful care;
The long-neglected quarry, grim and gray,
Where rubbish in uncouth confusion lay,—
Loose stones and sand with weeds and brush-wood rotten,
And everything or worthless or forgotten,—
Seem'd to obey her will, as though by duty
Constrain'd, and soon became a place of beauty.
Its fairy floor is mossy green,
And o'er its creviced walls, I ween,
The harebell, foxglove, fern, and heather,
Mingle most lovingly together;
While from the upper screen, as bent to see
What might be hid below, the rowan tree
And drooping birch seem to look curiously,
A friendly place where birds for shelter come,
And bees and flies and moths raise a soft summer hum,
Justina's Quarry! a name most dear
Will henceforth sweetly, sadly soothe the ear.
Her pleasing fancy and her skilful care;
The long-neglected quarry, grim and gray,
Where rubbish in uncouth confusion lay,—
Loose stones and sand with weeds and brush-wood rotten,
And everything or worthless or forgotten,—
Seem'd to obey her will, as though by duty
Constrain'd, and soon became a place of beauty.
Its fairy floor is mossy green,
And o'er its creviced walls, I ween,
The harebell, foxglove, fern, and heather,
Mingle most lovingly together;
While from the upper screen, as bent to see
What might be hid below, the rowan tree
And drooping birch seem to look curiously,
A friendly place where birds for shelter come,
And bees and flies and moths raise a soft summer hum,
Justina's Quarry! a name most dear
Will henceforth sweetly, sadly soothe the ear.
Happy, and making others so,
Her life's pure stream did gently flow.
Like a warm morning's kindly sheen,
Oft was the light of her presence seen
Reflected from the brow and eye
Of those whose hearts beat quick when she was nigh.
Her gentle voice and joyous smile
And sprightly converse could beguile
The winter's night of half its measure,
The rainy day of half its listless leisure.
Her life's pure stream did gently flow.
Like a warm morning's kindly sheen,
Oft was the light of her presence seen
Reflected from the brow and eye
Of those whose hearts beat quick when she was nigh.
Her gentle voice and joyous smile
And sprightly converse could beguile
The winter's night of half its measure,
The rainy day of half its listless leisure.
The gifts of fortune were by her possess'd
As only held in trust; she felt that best
She served her bounteous Master when she gave
What He to her had given, His poor to save
From pain or penury, and could upbind
The suffering body or the wounded mind.
How generously her hand bestow'd!
How gratefully her bosom glow'd!
The God she loved did to her heart
His own beneficence impart,
And still she thought her gifts too small
To prove her gratitude to Him who gave her all.
To woe and suffering she clung,
And her protecting arms around the helpless flung.
As only held in trust; she felt that best
She served her bounteous Master when she gave
What He to her had given, His poor to save
From pain or penury, and could upbind
The suffering body or the wounded mind.
How generously her hand bestow'd!
How gratefully her bosom glow'd!
The God she loved did to her heart
His own beneficence impart,
And still she thought her gifts too small
To prove her gratitude to Him who gave her all.
To woe and suffering she clung,
And her protecting arms around the helpless flung.
But not in gentleness alone
The nature of her mind was known;
High intellect, acute and strong,
Did to this gifted friend belong,
In time of need a present aid
To comfort, counsel, or persuade,
To hold o'er other minds a sway,
Ruling their will when seeming to obey.
The nature of her mind was known;
High intellect, acute and strong,
Did to this gifted friend belong,
In time of need a present aid
To comfort, counsel, or persuade,
833
Ruling their will when seeming to obey.
And thus in health and wealth her life she pass'd,
But death his stern commission gain'd at last,
Empower'd her yet fair earthly robe to rend,
And with frail timid nature to contend.
But He, the Saviour, whom she loved through life,
Had nobly braced her for the fearful strife,
And she with mind composed and steadfast eye
Could meet the grizzly foe right valiantly.
In every interval of pain
Her buoyant spirits rose again.
At open window she would sit,
And see the swallow past her flit,
And see the blue sky pure and fair,
And white clouds floating in the air,
And feel the kindly cooling breeze
That stirr'd among the waving trees;
Or call some youngling of her race
To look upon its lovely face;
Then on her sisters sweetly smile,
And for a time their woe beguile
With cheerful words of other years,
While they, belike, sat smiling through their tears.
But death his stern commission gain'd at last,
Empower'd her yet fair earthly robe to rend,
And with frail timid nature to contend.
But He, the Saviour, whom she loved through life,
Had nobly braced her for the fearful strife,
And she with mind composed and steadfast eye
Could meet the grizzly foe right valiantly.
In every interval of pain
Her buoyant spirits rose again.
At open window she would sit,
And see the swallow past her flit,
And see the blue sky pure and fair,
And white clouds floating in the air,
And feel the kindly cooling breeze
That stirr'd among the waving trees;
Or call some youngling of her race
To look upon its lovely face;
Then on her sisters sweetly smile,
And for a time their woe beguile
With cheerful words of other years,
While they, belike, sat smiling through their tears.
But now, alas! the rathless foe
Must deal his final blow;
Her brief, but honour'd course is run,
Her Christian warfare done.
'Twas then her brightening eyes she raised,
And towards heaven intently gazed,
As if some beckoning vision there
Were hovering in the viewless air.
And then her eyelids slowly dropp'd,
Her features blanch'd, her pulses stopp'd,
And to the blessed realms of brighter day
The beautiful spirit hath pass'd away.
Must deal his final blow;
Her brief, but honour'd course is run,
Her Christian warfare done.
'Twas then her brightening eyes she raised,
And towards heaven intently gazed,
As if some beckoning vision there
Were hovering in the viewless air.
And then her eyelids slowly dropp'd,
Her features blanch'd, her pulses stopp'd,
And to the blessed realms of brighter day
The beautiful spirit hath pass'd away.
| The Dramatic and Poetical Works of Joanna Baillie | |