 | Day and Night Songs |  |
VII. IRISH SOUTH-WESTERN RAILWAY
5th of October, 1853.
Adieu! Killarney's autumn woods,
Clear mirror'd round the skiff;
Its purple mountains, falling floods,
Isle, abbey, rock, and cliff.
Clear mirror'd round the skiff;
Its purple mountains, falling floods,
Isle, abbey, rock, and cliff.
The magic car of modern skill,
Nor hour nor distance heeds;
With beat and roar and whistle shrill,
On through the dusk it speeds.
Nor hour nor distance heeds;
With beat and roar and whistle shrill,
On through the dusk it speeds.
Our friends in Dublin city gay,
Expectant name our names;
“The fog is out to-night,” they say,
And stir the kindly flames.
Expectant name our names;
“The fog is out to-night,” they say,
And stir the kindly flames.
Oh! chiller than October's touch
Is freezing many a smile!
Terror and mortal torment clutch
What love expects the while.
Is freezing many a smile!
Terror and mortal torment clutch
What love expects the while.
Love's self, however true and warm,
Might fail to recognise
The dear, the well-remember'd form,
If set before its eyes!
Might fail to recognise
The dear, the well-remember'd form,
If set before its eyes!
'Mong twisted metal, splinter'd wood,
Half buried in the ground,
'Mong heaps of limbs crush'd up in blood,
Must wife, child, friend be found.
Half buried in the ground,
'Mong heaps of limbs crush'd up in blood,
Must wife, child, friend be found.
No hostile cannonade, or mine,
Perform'd the cruel wrong;
Through peaceful fields they sped to join
The city's sprightly throng:
Perform'd the cruel wrong;
Through peaceful fields they sped to join
The city's sprightly throng:
And, pausing on their iron track,
Deem'd not the panting breath
And ponderous rush were at their back
Of swift-pursuing Death.
Deem'd not the panting breath
And ponderous rush were at their back
Of swift-pursuing Death.
Now, grim the cold dark night weighs down;
But redly through the shade,
A fiery furnace glares upon
The ruin it has made:
But redly through the shade,
A fiery furnace glares upon
The ruin it has made:
And see, where anxious horror throbs!
Pale lights are flitting there;
And shrieks abound, and wordless sobs;
Haste, tumult, and despair!
Pale lights are flitting there;
And shrieks abound, and wordless sobs;
Haste, tumult, and despair!
Quick questions, to which silence deals
The slow and dread reply;
Sad kisses,—where th'unhurt lip feels
All—all the agony!
The slow and dread reply;
Sad kisses,—where th'unhurt lip feels
All—all the agony!
By many a household hearth to-night
Must welcome change for wail;
More swiftly quench'd their happy light,
Than one could tell the tale!
Must welcome change for wail;
More swiftly quench'd their happy light,
Than one could tell the tale!
O strive we, human heart and hand,
This lesson to improve,
That all may use, but none command,
The world wherein they move:
This lesson to improve,
That all may use, but none command,
The world wherein they move:
On moral, or on metal road,—
Else man were but a waif,—
Obedience to th'eternal code
Alone can bring him safe.
Else man were but a waif,—
Obedience to th'eternal code
Alone can bring him safe.
XII. “LEVAVI OCULOS.”
I cried to God, in trouble for my sin;
To the Great God who dwelleth in the deeps.
The deeps return not any voice or sign.
To the Great God who dwelleth in the deeps.
The deeps return not any voice or sign.
But with my soul I know thee, O Great God;
The soul thou givest knoweth thee, Great God
And with my soul I sorrow for my sin.
The soul thou givest knoweth thee, Great God
And with my soul I sorrow for my sin.
Full sure I am there is no joy in sin,
Joy-scented Peace is trampled under foot,
Like a white growing blossom into mud.
Joy-scented Peace is trampled under foot,
Like a white growing blossom into mud.
Sin is establish'd subtly in the heart
As a disease; like a magician foul
Ruleth the better thoughts against their will.
As a disease; like a magician foul
Ruleth the better thoughts against their will.
Only the rays of God can cure the heart,
Purge it of evil: there's no other way
Except to turn with the whole heart to God.
Purge it of evil: there's no other way
Except to turn with the whole heart to God.
In heavenly sunlight live no shades of fear;
The soul there, busy or at rest, hath peace;
And music floweth from the various world.
The soul there, busy or at rest, hath peace;
And music floweth from the various world.
The Lord is great and good, and is our God.
There needeth not a word but only these;
Our God is good, our God is great. 'Tis well.
There needeth not a word but only these;
Our God is good, our God is great. 'Tis well.
All things are ever God's; the shows of things
Are of men's fantasy, and warp'd with sin;
God, and the things of God, immutable.
Are of men's fantasy, and warp'd with sin;
God, and the things of God, immutable.
O great good God, my pray'r is to neglect
The shows of fantasy, and turn myself
To thy unfenced, unbounded warmth and light!
The shows of fantasy, and turn myself
To thy unfenced, unbounded warmth and light!
Then were all shows of things a part of truth:
Then were my soul, if busy or at rest,
Residing in the house of perfect peace!
Then were my soul, if busy or at rest,
Residing in the house of perfect peace!
XX. THE WAYSIDE WELL.
O thou pretty Wayside Well,
Wreath'd about with roses!
Where, beguiled with soothing spell,
Weary foot reposes.
Wreath'd about with roses!
Where, beguiled with soothing spell,
Weary foot reposes.
With a welcome fresh and green
Wave thy border grasses,
By the dusty traveller seen,
Sighing as he passes.
Wave thy border grasses,
By the dusty traveller seen,
Sighing as he passes.
Cup of no Circean bliss,
Charity of summer,
Making happy with a kiss
Every meanest comer!
Charity of summer,
Making happy with a kiss
Every meanest comer!
Morning, too, and eventide,
Without stint or measure,
Cottage households near and wide
Share thy liquid treasure.
Without stint or measure,
Cottage households near and wide
Share thy liquid treasure.
Fair the greeting face ascends,
Like a naiad daughter,
When the peasant lassie bends
To thy trembling water.
Like a naiad daughter,
When the peasant lassie bends
To thy trembling water.
When a laddie brings her pail
Down the twilight meadow,
Tender falls the whisper'd tale,
Soft the double shadow!
Down the twilight meadow,
Tender falls the whisper'd tale,
Soft the double shadow!
Clear as childhood in thy look,
Nature seems to pet thee;
Fierce July that drains the brook
Hath no power to fret thee.
Nature seems to pet thee;
Fierce July that drains the brook
Hath no power to fret thee.
Shelter'd cool and free from smirch
In thy cavelet shady,
O'er thee in a silver birch
Stoops a forest lady.
In thy cavelet shady,
O'er thee in a silver birch
Stoops a forest lady.
To thy glass the Star of Eve
Shyly dares to bend her;
Matron Moon thy depths receive,
Globed in mellow splendour.
Shyly dares to bend her;
Matron Moon thy depths receive,
Globed in mellow splendour.
Bounteous Spring! for ever own
Undisturb'd thy station;
Not to thirsty lips alone
Serving mild donation.
Undisturb'd thy station;
Not to thirsty lips alone
Serving mild donation.
Never come the newt or frog,
Pebble thrown in malice,
Mud or wither'd leaves, to clog
Or defile thy chalice.
Pebble thrown in malice,
Mud or wither'd leaves, to clog
Or defile thy chalice.
Heaven be still within thy ken,
Through the veil thou wearest,—
Glimpsing clearest, as with men,
When the boughs are barest!
Through the veil thou wearest,—
Glimpsing clearest, as with men,
When the boughs are barest!
XXII. THE MILKMAID.
O, where are you going so early? he said;
Good luck go with you, my pretty maid;
To tell you my mind I'm half afraid,
But I wish I were your sweetheart.
Good luck go with you, my pretty maid;
To tell you my mind I'm half afraid,
But I wish I were your sweetheart.
When the morning sun is shining low,
And the cocks in every farmyard crow,
I'll carry your pail,
O'er hill and dale,
And I'll go with you a-milking.
And the cocks in every farmyard crow,
I'll carry your pail,
O'er hill and dale,
And I'll go with you a-milking.
I'm going a-milking, sir, says she,
Through the dew, and across the lea;
You ne'er would even yourself to me,
Or take me for your sweetheart.
Through the dew, and across the lea;
You ne'er would even yourself to me,
Or take me for your sweetheart.
When the morning sun, &c.
Now give me your milking stool awhile,
To carry it down to yonder stile;
I'm wishing every step a mile,
And myself your only sweetheart.
To carry it down to yonder stile;
I'm wishing every step a mile,
And myself your only sweetheart.
When the morning sun, &c.
O, here's the stile in-under the tree,
And there's the path in the grass for me,
And I thank you kindly, sir, says she,
And wish you a better sweetheart.
And there's the path in the grass for me,
And I thank you kindly, sir, says she,
And wish you a better sweetheart.
When the morning sun, &c.
Now give me your milking-pail, says he,
And while we're going across the lea,
Pray reckon your master's cows to me,
Although I'm not your sweetheart.
And while we're going across the lea,
Pray reckon your master's cows to me,
Although I'm not your sweetheart.
When the morning sun, &c.
Two of them red, and two of them white,
Two of them yellow and silky bright,
She told him her master's cows aright,
Though he was not her sweetheart.
Two of them yellow and silky bright,
She told him her master's cows aright,
Though he was not her sweetheart.
When the morning sun, &c.
She sat and milk'd in the morning sun,
And when her milking was over and done,
She found him waiting, all as one
As if he were her sweetheart.
And when her milking was over and done,
She found him waiting, all as one
As if he were her sweetheart.
When the morning sun, &c.
He freely offer'd his heart and hand;
Now she has a farm at her command,
And cows of her own to graze the land;
Success to all true sweethearts!
Now she has a farm at her command,
And cows of her own to graze the land;
Success to all true sweethearts!
When the morning sun is shining low,
And the cocks in every farmyard crow,
I'll carry your pail
O'er hill and dale,
And I'll go with you a-milking.
And the cocks in every farmyard crow,
I'll carry your pail
O'er hill and dale,
And I'll go with you a-milking.
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