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Poems and Lancashire Songs

By Edwin Waugh. Fourth Edition, With Additions
Waugh, Edwin (1817-1890)
 
[dedication]

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POEMS.
 
THE MOORLAND FLOWER.
 
TIME IS FLYING.
 
THE MOORLANDS.
 
TO THE ROSE-TREE ON MY WINDOW-SILL.
 
KEEN BLOWS THE NORTH WIND.
 
THE CAPTAIN'S FRIENDS.
 
NOW SUMMER'S SUNLIGHT GLOWING.
 
THE WORLD.
 
TO A MARRIED LADY.
 
CULTIVATE YOUR MEN.
 
OLD MAN'S SONG.
 
BIDE ON.
 
THE MOORLAND WITCH.
 
THE CHURCH CLOCK.
 
GOD BLESS THEE, OLD ENGLAND!
 
CHRISTMAS SONG.
 
LOVE AND GOLD.
 
ALL ON A ROSY MORN OF JUNE.
 
GLAD WELCOME TO MORN'S DEWY HOURS.
 
ALAS! HOW HARD IT IS TO SMILE.
 
YE GALLANT MEN OF ENGLAND.
 
HERE'S TO MY NATIVE LAND.
 
WHAT MAKES YOUR LEAVES FALL DOWN?
 
WHEN DROWSY DAYLIGHT.
 
MARY.
 
OH! HAD SHE BEEN A LOWLY MAID.
 
THE OLD BARD'S WELCOME HOME.
 
OH! COME ACROSS THE FIELDS.
 
OH! WEAVE A GARLAND FOR MY BROW.
 
TO THE SPRING WIND.
 
NIGHTFALL.
 
TO A YOUNG LADY,
 
POOR TRAVELLERS ALL.
 
THE DYING ROSE.
 
LINES.
 
THE MAN OF THE TIME.
 
THE WANDERER'S HYMN.
 
ALONE, UPON THE FLOWERY PLAIN.
 
LIFE'S TWILIGHT.
 
CHRISTMAS MORNING.
 
SONG.
 
THE WOUNDED LARK.
 
SEA WEEDS.
 
THINGS GONE BY.
 
MINNIE.
 
THE MOORLAND MAID.
 
PROLOGUE
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SONGS IN THE LANCASHIRE DIALECT.
 
COME WHOAM TO THY CHILDER AN' ME.
 
WHAT AILS THEE, MY SON ROBIN?
 
WILLY'S GRAVE.
 
THE GRINDLESTONE.
 
GOD BLESS THESE POOR FOLK!
 
COME, MARY, LINK THI ARM I' MINE.
 
CHIRRUP.
 
THE DULE'S I' THIS BONNET O' MINE.
 
TICKLE TIMES.
 
JAMIE'S FROLIC.
 
OWD PINDER.
 
TH' GOBLIN PARSON.
 
COME, JAMIE, LET'S UNDO THI SHOON.
 
WHILE TAKIN' A WIFT O' MY PIPE.
 
GOD BLESS THI SILVER YURE!
 
MARGIT'S COMIN'.
 
TH' SWEETHEART GATE.
 
OWD ENOCH.
 
EAWR FOLK.
 
FORGIVE ONE ANOTHER.
 
BUCKLE TO.
 
NEET-FO'.
 
A LIFT ON THE WAY.
 
YESTERNEET.
 
BONNY NAN.
 
I'VE WORN MY BITS O' SHOON AWAY.
 
GENTLE JONE.
 
TUM RINDLE.
 
THESE MAUND'RIN' E'EN.
 
COME, LIMBER LADS.
 
THE GARLAND.

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57

GOD BLESS THEE, OLD ENGLAND!

I

God bless thee, old England, the home of the free;
A garden of roses, begirt by the sèa!
The wild waves that fondle thy darling green shore
Shall sing thy proud story till time be no more;
And nations unborn, looking over the wave,
Shall tell of the isle of the free and the brave,
Where liberty's battle, through ages of old,
Was fought in the hearts of the just and the bold;—
Old England, the Queen of the Sea!
58

II

May truth ever flourish thy children among;
And deeds that awaken the spirit of song
Inspire future bards with emotion divine,
Till earth has no anthem so noble as thine!
Green cradle of manliness, beauty, and worth!
May thy name be a watchword of joy in the earth
When I have long mouldered beneath the green sod,—
A country devoted to freedom and God;—
Old England, the Queen of the Sea!
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