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Lyrics

sylvan and sacred. By the Rev. Richard Wilton

Wilton, Richard

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[To The Right Honourable and Most Reverend William Thomson]

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THE WIND AT MIDNIGHT.

SIGNS OF SUMMER.

THE VOICE OF OUR CHURCHES.

THE PLAIN OF YORK FROM THE YORKSHIRE WOLDS.

PATRINGTON CHURCH.

THE SHEPHERD'S REED.

ON THE LARGE COPY PAINTED BY SELOUS OF LEONARDO DA VINCI'S “LAST SUPPER,”

BEECH-LEAVES, SNOW, AND VIOLETS.

AN AUTUMN DAY AT FOUNTAINS' ABBEY.

TO MRS. CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER.

TO SOME FRIENDS ABOUT TO WINTER AT CANEA, IN CRETE.

WINTER-BERRIES.

THE ARROW-SEED;

THE VICTIM AND THE PRIEST.

THE BIRDS' FIRST HALTING-PLACE.

A TIME OF REFRESHING. GLEN CRIPESDALE, LOCH SUNART.

ON A HIGHLAND BURYING-PLACE,

SONNETS ON THE FATHERS.

THE CROSS AND THE MOSS,

MY PAINTED WINDOW,

CHRISTMAS FARE FOR THE BIRDS.

A PRAYER FOR THE NEW YEAR.

THOUGHTS FOR NEW YEAR'S DAY.

A PRAYER FOR WHITSUNTIDE.

LIVINGSTONE'S LAST PRAYER.

ON THE DEATH UPON SNOWDON OF FREDERICK R. WILTON, B.A.,

THE CHRISTIAN LIFE.

REVOLVING YEARS.

SEARCHING THE SCRIPTURES.

SONNETS ON THE TYPES.

“LET US PASS OVER TO THE OTHER SIDE.”

MANSIONS OF HEAVEN AND EARTH.

ON THE MORNING STAR.

THE FIRST VIOLET.

ON THE BAPTISM OF OUR INFANT.

CRAB-APPLE GATHERERS.

HARVEST PRAISE.

CHURCH SCULPTURE.

A CRUCIFORM CHURCH.

WATER TURNED TO WINE.

SOLACE IN SICKNESS.

A SUFFERING CHRISTIAN'S PRAYER.

HOME AND HEAVEN.

WINTER LESSONS.

A GETHSEMANE MARIGOLD.

ON A CYPRESS FROM MOUNT SINAI,

ON A DENARIUS OF TIBERIUS CÆSAR,

THE TEMPLE WINDOWS.

“MEET FOR THE MASTER'S USE.”

HILDA'S WOOD,

ON AN OLD ASH TREE,

THE BIRD-COMFORTER.

HOPE FOR OLD AGE.

SAMSON'S RIDDLE.

ON A THRUSH SINGING AT A FUNERAL IN NOVEMBER.

A THOUGHT IN A MARCH ROOKERY.

THE ROMAN CAMP.

ON THE SIGHT OF A SEA-BIRD IN APRIL.

A WHITE CHRISTMAS.

A LITTLE GIRL AT THE SEASIDE.

THE RAINBOW, A SYMBOL.

TAKE UP AND READ.

WINTER BLOSSOMS.

FROM MY STUDY WINDOW.

SWEET EGLANTINE.

IN TWILIGHT DIM.

IN SUNSHINE SWEET.

BLUE HYACINTHS.

FROM DESCRIPTION OF HUMAN LIFE.

JESUS CHRIST'S EXPOSTULATION WITH AN UNGRATEFUL WORLD.

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141

HILDA'S WOOD,

HACKNESS, NEAR SCARBOROUGH.

In green Hackness, where holy Hilda prayed
And for her gracious Lord “did what she could,”
No stone of any building has withstood
The havoc which twelve centuries have made.
Her name has left the valleys where she strayed,
Low-lying fields, and streamlet's modest flood;
But, like the setting sun, has caught yon wood,
Which clothes the girdling heights in pleasant shade.
Long as the trees with emerald Spring shall bud,
Or burn with yellow Autumn, that fair hill
Shall brighten with the memory of the good;
Her presence vanished, but a glory still
Touches the grove and hallows all the place
Blest by the footsteps of a life of Grace.

Lady Hilda, the pious and illustrious founder of Whitby Abbey, retired to Hackness in the year 679, and erected a nunnery or cell in that remote valley. The building is quite gone, but its founder's memory lingers in the name given to a wooded hill close by, which is called “Hilda Wood.”