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The Human Inheritance

The New Hope, Motherhood. By William Sharp
Sharp, William,1855-1905
  
[epigraph]
  
[dedication]

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[section]
  
To E. A. S.
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THE HUMAN INHERITANCE.
  
[prologue]
 I. 
CYCLE I. CHILDHOOD'S INHERITANCE.
 II. 
CYCLE II. YOUTH'S INHERITANCE.
 III. 
CYCLE III. MANHOOD AND WOMANHOOD'S INHERITANCE.
 IV. 
CYCLE IV. OLD AGE'S INHERITANCE.
  
THE NEW HOPE.
  
MOTHERHOOD.
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TRANSCRIPTS FROM NATURE.
 I. 
I. SUNRISE ABOVE BROAD WHEAT-FIELDS.
 II. 
II. THE STONE-BREAKER.
 III. 
III. WILD-ROSES.
 IV. 
IV. LIGHT OF THE SETTING SUN ON MOUNTAIN-ASH BERRIES.
 V. 
V. PINE-WOODS.
 VI. 
VI. THE WINDMILL.
 VII. 
VII. SEA-WRACK.
 VIII. 
VIII. THE BLUE HERON.
 IX. 
IX. SHELLS ON THE SEA-SHORE.
 X. 
X. THE NIGHTINGALE.
 XI. 
XI. THE SWOLLEN RIVER.
 XII. 
XII. MOONLIGHT AT SEA.
 XIII. 
XIII. A DEAD CALM AND MIST.
 XIV. 
XIV. LABOURERS RETURNING HOME.
 XV. 
XV. A GREEN WAVE.
 XVI. 
XVI. MORNING GLORY.
 XVII. 
XVII. DAWN AMID SCOTCH FIRS.
 XVIII. 
XVIII. GROUND-LIGHTNING.
 XIX. 
XIX. THE EBBING TIDE.
 XX. 
XX. THE INCOMING TIDE.
 XXI. 
XXI. TWO OLD YEWS.
 XXII. 
XXII. PHOSPHORESCENT SEA. (I.)
 XXIII. 
XXIII. PHOSPHORESCENT SEA. (II.)
 XXIV. 
XXIV. PHOSPHORESCENT SEA. (III.)
 XXV. 
XXV. MOUNTAIN MISTS.
 XXVI. 
XXVI. MOONRISE.
 XXVII. 
XXVII. MOONRISE.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII. MOONRISE.
 XXIX. 
XXIX.—PINES IN STORM.
 XXX. 
XXX.—THE LONELY LARCH.
  
THE TIDES OF VENICE.
  
A DIALOGUE.
  
DESOLATION.
  
CHRISTMAS-EVE.
  
LIFE.
  
SIGHT.
  
YOUNG LOVE.
  
DREAM LAND.
  
A GREETING
  
REVELATION.
  
POSSIBILITIES.
  
PAIN.
  
BEN-A-CHAOLAIS
  
SPRING-WIND.
  
TO THE SPIRIT CALLED LAUDANUM.
  
LINES.
  
THE REDEEMER.
  
LAST WORDS.

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171

DREAM LAND.

Softly, hushfully,
Silently flow
Dim streams of sweetness
Thro' lands of woe;
Hushfully, hushfully
Wash the cool waves
Thro' intricate spaces
Of sea-worn caves;
And silently, suddenly
Gather wan faces
Long laid in graves.
Speechless, and yearning
O with sad eyes!
And wan hearts burning
With memories:
Silently, silently,
172

Gath'ring around
From cool dark places
Of churchyard ground:
O the wan faces
Whose lips have no sound.
Hushfully, hushfully,
Strange rivers flow
Thro' silent lands
No soul doth know;
Peacefully, peacefully,
Restful and slow,
Faint music of wings
On the tired wind doth go:
Hushfully, hushfully,
Hushfully so,
Whether with pleasure
Or woe.
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