Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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“STAR.” |
 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
“STAR.”
When the darkness is thickest
And shadows come down,
Or the pulses beat quickest
And skies wear a frown;
O her soft little hand falls as dew upon pain,
With a flutter,
And utter
Relief to its chain;
And the wound of the weary forgets its old scar,
When she touches the stain—
Little “Star,”
Happy “Star.”
And shadows come down,
Or the pulses beat quickest
And skies wear a frown;
482
With a flutter,
And utter
Relief to its chain;
And the wound of the weary forgets its old scar,
When she touches the stain—
Little “Star,”
Happy “Star.”
Though her clothes are so spotted
With weather and wear,
And the burden allotted
Is heavy to bear;
Yet she always is cheery in want, and her eyes
Have a glory
And story
Like news from the skies;
And the prisoning care then relaxes its bar,
When her love on it lies—
Little “Star,”
Happy “Star.”
With weather and wear,
And the burden allotted
Is heavy to bear;
Yet she always is cheery in want, and her eyes
Have a glory
And story
Like news from the skies;
And the prisoning care then relaxes its bar,
When her love on it lies—
Little “Star,”
Happy “Star.”
If her manners are simple
Or rugged in deed,
Still the red of her dimple
Flames up at your need;
She is ready to help you, in tune with that blush
Like the clover,
While over
You breathing a hush;
For her springs of compassion are not very far,
And for misery gush—
Little “Star,”
Happy “Star.”
Or rugged in deed,
Still the red of her dimple
Flames up at your need;
She is ready to help you, in tune with that blush
Like the clover,
While over
You breathing a hush;
For her springs of compassion are not very far,
And for misery gush—
Little “Star,”
Happy “Star.”
Do not deem she is clever
Or learnéd in books,
Though the Gospel seems ever
Writ large in her looks;
Do not ask for proprieties or pretty dress
And your lustre,
But trust her—
She will not transgress;
She is faithful and fond, if some blemishes mar,
You will have to confess—
Little “Star,”
Happy “Star.”
Or learnéd in books,
Though the Gospel seems ever
Writ large in her looks;
Do not ask for proprieties or pretty dress
And your lustre,
But trust her—
483
She is faithful and fond, if some blemishes mar,
You will have to confess—
Little “Star,”
Happy “Star.”
| Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold | |