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Hymns and Poems

Original and Translated: By Edward Caswall ... Second Edition
Caswall, Edward (1814-1878)

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DRAMATIC PIECES. ODES. POEMS
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DRAMA ANGELICUM:
  
PRELUDE.
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THE MASQUE.
 I. 
SCENE I.
 II. 
SCENE II.
 III. 
SCENE III.
collapse sectionIV. 
SCENE IV.
  
MARY'S SONG.
  
SONG OF THE HERMITS OF MOUNT CARMEL.
  
[section]
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THE MINSTER OF ELD.
  
PROLOGUE.
 I. 
SCENE I.
 II. 
SCENE II.
 III. 
SCENE III.
  
EPILOGUE.
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ODES.
 I. 
I. TO THE POWERS OF THE UNIVERSE.
 II. 
II. TO THE SKY.
 III. 
III. TO THE EARTH.
 IV. 
IV. TO THE HEAT AND COLD.
 V. 
V. TO THE DEW AND RAIN.
 VI. 
VI. TO THE SEASONS.
 VII. 
VII. TO THE FLOWERS.
 VIII. 
VIII. TO THE WINDS.
 IX. 
IX. TO A SPRING.
 X. 
X. A VISION OF ANIMALS.
 XI. 
XI. A VISION OF WATERS.
 XII. 
XII. THE PAST.
 XIII. 
XIII. THE SOUL.
 XIV. 
XIV. THE ANGELS.
 XV. 
XV. AJALON.
 XVI. 
XVI. THE WORLD.
 XVII. 
XVII. THE SANCTUARY OF THE CHURCH.
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POEMS.
 I. 
I. THE EASTER SHIP, A LEGEND.
 II. 
II. ST. KENELM'S WELL.
 III. 
III. ON HEARING THE NIGHTINGALE SING IN THE DAY-TIME.
 IV. 
IV. EVENING.
 V. 
V. SPRING.
 VI. 
VI. AUTUMN.
 VII. 
VII. ASSOCIATIONS WITH PLACES.
 VIII. 
VIII. ON AN ANCIENT STONE-QUARRY.
 IX. 
IX. NATURE'S MYSTERIES.
 X. 
X. A DREAM OF CHILDHOOD.
 XI. 
XI. ON PASSING BY A FORMER HOME ON A RAILWAY.
 XII. 
XII. SUMMER'S DEPARTURE.
 XIII. 
XIII. ON A SELFISH RETIREMENT.
 XIV. 
XIV. TO ONE COMPLAINING OF LIFE'S MONOTONY.
 XV. 
XV. A VILLAGE INCIDENT.
 XVI. 
XVI. THE UNSHED TEAR.
 XVII. 
XVII. WATER.
 XVIII. 
XVIII. TO ECHO.
 XIX. 
XIX. A SICK PERSON'S COMPLAINT.
 XX. 
XX. A DREAM IN SPRING.
 XXI. 
XXI. THE SOUL. A COMPARISON.
 XXII. 
XXII. TO THE PLUMES ON A HEARSE.
 XXIII. 
XXIII. HOPE AND MEMORY.
 XXIV. 
XXIV. ON VISITING THE ROOM WHERE I WAS BORN.
 XXV. 
XXV. LESSON FROM A CLOUD.
 XXVI. 
XXVI. THE SEASIDE.
 XXVII. 
XXVII. ON SEEING SNOW UPON GOOD FRIDAY.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII. TO THE HOURS.
 XXIX. 
XXIX. LINES WRITTEN ON LEAVING OXFORD.
 XXX. 
XXX. ON WEEPING WHILE ASLEEP.
 XXXI. 
XXXI. LINES WRITTEN IN MOMENTARY DISGUST WITH METAPHYSICS.
 XXXII. 
XXXII. THE TEMPLE OF THE HOLY GOSPELS.
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII. THE SOUL'S ABYSS.
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV. BELIEF OF ANGLICANS IN THE REAL PRESENCE TESTED.
 XXXV. 
XXXV. A REMONSTRANCE.
 XXXVI. 
XXVI. THE ROCK OF PETER.
 XXXVII. 
XXXVII. ST. CLEMENT'S TOMB.
 XXXVIII. 
XXXVIII. THE TEMPLE OF NATURE.
 XXXIX. 
XXXIX. NATURE'S ORATORIES.
 XL. 
XL. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH THE BOND OF THE WORLD.
 XLI. 
XLI. FLOWERS IN THE SACRISTY.
 XLII. 
XLII. FLOWERS ON THE ALTAR OF THE BLESSED SACRAMENT.
 XLIII. 
XLIII. ON THE USE OF ARTIFICIAL FLOWERS FOR THE ALTAR.
 XLIV. 
XLIV. LINES ON A CEREMONIAL SANDAL OF HIS HOLINESS.
 XLV. 
XLV. LINES ON A CEREMONIAL CAPELLA OF HIS HOLINESS.
 XLVI. 
XLVI. A SOUL'S LAMENT IN PURGATORY.
 XLVII. 
XLVII. THE GRACIOUSNESS OF PURGATORY.
 XLVIIII. 
XLVIII. IN GOD'S SIGHT.
 XLIX. 
XLIX. FAITH.
 L. 
L. THE TWO MOTHERS.
 LI. 
LI. LOVE.
 LII. 
LII. CHASTISEMENT.
 LIII. 
LIII. SUNDAY.
 LIV. 
LIV. THE ORDER OF PURE INTUITION.
 LV. 
LV. THE CAPTIVE LINNET.
 LVI. 
LVI. CATHOLIC RUINS.
 LVII. 
LVII. ENGLAND'S FUTURE CONVERSION.
 LVIII. 
LVIII. TO THE HAND OF A LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHOR.
 LIX. 
LIX. ST. PHILIP NERI AND THE ROMAN NOBLE.
 LX. 
LX. A PROPHECY.

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XV. A VILLAGE INCIDENT.

I know a man of many years,
Full ninety years and more,
On Summer-noons he oft appears
Outside his cottage-door.
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And there with palsied hand will he
Sit knitting in the shade;
O, 'tis a curious sight to see
That old man at his trade.
In winter by his chimney-hole
He spends the livelong day,
And often gets a passing dole
From those who go that way.
For he is known the parish round,
And all the neighbourhood o'er;
And there has lived on that same ground
For ninety years and more.
No child has he, they are all gone,
And rest them in a row;
Last week he buried a younger son
With hair as white as snow.
In his old prayer-book at the end,
Their ages you may see;
That book it is his oldest friend,
And twice as old as he.
But yesterday I pass'd that way,
And miss'd him from his chair;
I saw that in distress he lay,
And gave what I could spare.
Then lifting up his clear blue eye,
With trembling voice he cried,
‘May you be bless'd by God on high,
And Christ the crucified!’
O words of comfort, how did they
My heart with rapture fill!
And ever since, do what I may,
I seem to hear them still.
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And ever to myself I sing
With a deep inward glee,
‘Old man, it was a pleasant thing
To be thus bless'd by thee.’
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