Lyrics of the heart With other poems. By Alaric A. Watts. With forty-one engravings on steel |
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KIRKSTALL ABBEY REVISITED. |
 | Lyrics of the heart |  |
51
KIRKSTALL ABBEY REVISITED.
The echoes of its vaults are eloquent;
The stones have voices, and the walls do live:
It is the house of Memory!
MATURIN.
The stones have voices, and the walls do live:
It is the house of Memory!
MATURIN.
Long years have passed since last I strayed,
In boyhood, through thy roofless aisle,
And watched the mists of eve o'ershade
Day's latest, loveliest smile;—
And saw the bright, broad, moving moon
Sail up the sapphire skies of June!
In boyhood, through thy roofless aisle,
And watched the mists of eve o'ershade
Day's latest, loveliest smile;—
And saw the bright, broad, moving moon
Sail up the sapphire skies of June!
52
The air around was breathing balm;
The aspen scarcely seemed to sway;
And, as a sleeping infant calm,
The river flowed away,
Devious as error, deep as love,
And blue and bright as heaven above!
The aspen scarcely seemed to sway;
And, as a sleeping infant calm,
The river flowed away,
Devious as error, deep as love,
And blue and bright as heaven above!
Steeped in a flood of golden light,—
Type of that hour of deep repose,—
In wan, wild beauty on my sight,
Thy time-worn tower arose,—
Brightening above the wreck of years,
Like Faith amid a world of fears.
Type of that hour of deep repose,—
In wan, wild beauty on my sight,
Thy time-worn tower arose,—
Brightening above the wreck of years,
Like Faith amid a world of fears.
I climbed its dark and dizzy stair,
And gained its ivy-mantled brow;
But broken—ruined—who may dare
Ascend that pathway now?
Life was an upward journey then;—
When shall my spirit mount again!
And gained its ivy-mantled brow;
But broken—ruined—who may dare
Ascend that pathway now?
Life was an upward journey then;—
When shall my spirit mount again!
The steps in youth I loved to tread,
Have sunk beneath the foot of Time;
Like them the daring hopes that led
Me, once, to heights sublime,
Ambition's dazzling dreams are o'er,
And I may scale those heights no more!
Have sunk beneath the foot of Time;
Like them the daring hopes that led
Me, once, to heights sublime,
Ambition's dazzling dreams are o'er,
And I may scale those heights no more!
53
And years have fled, and now I stand
Once more beside thy shattered fane,
Nerveless alike in heart and hand,
How changed by grief and pain,
Since last I loitered here, and deemed
Life was the fairy thing it seemed!
Once more beside thy shattered fane,
Nerveless alike in heart and hand,
How changed by grief and pain,
Since last I loitered here, and deemed
Life was the fairy thing it seemed!
And gazing on thy crumbling walls,
What visions meet my mental eye;
For every stone of thine recalls
Some trace of years gone by;—
Some cherished bliss, too frail to last,
Some hope decayed, or passion past!
What visions meet my mental eye;
For every stone of thine recalls
Some trace of years gone by;—
Some cherished bliss, too frail to last,
Some hope decayed, or passion past!
Ay, thoughts come thronging on my soul,
Of sunny youth's delightful morn;
When free from Sorrow's dark control,
By pining Care unworn,—
Dreaming of Fame, and Fortune's smile,
I lingered in thy ruined aisle!
Of sunny youth's delightful morn;
When free from Sorrow's dark control,
By pining Care unworn,—
Dreaming of Fame, and Fortune's smile,
I lingered in thy ruined aisle!
How many a wild and withering woe
Hath seared my trusting heart since then;
What clouds of blight, consuming slow
The springs that life sustain,—
Have o'er my world-vexed spirit past,
Sweet Kirkstall, since I saw thee last!
Hath seared my trusting heart since then;
What clouds of blight, consuming slow
The springs that life sustain,—
Have o'er my world-vexed spirit past,
Sweet Kirkstall, since I saw thee last!
54
How bright is every scene beheld
In youth and hope's unclouded hours;
How darkly, youth and hope dispelled,
The loveliest prospect lowers:
Thou wert a splendid vision then;—
When wilt thou seem so bright again!
In youth and hope's unclouded hours;
How darkly, youth and hope dispelled,
The loveliest prospect lowers:
Thou wert a splendid vision then;—
When wilt thou seem so bright again!
Yet still thy turrets drink the light
Of summer evening's softest ray,
And ivy garlands, green and bright,
Still mantle thy decay;
And calm and beauteous as of old,
Thy wandering river glides in gold.
Of summer evening's softest ray,
And ivy garlands, green and bright,
Still mantle thy decay;
And calm and beauteous as of old,
Thy wandering river glides in gold.
But life's gay morn of ecstasy,
That made thee seem so passing fair,—
The aspirations wild and high,
The soul to nobly dare,—
Oh, where are they, stern ruin, say?—
Thou dost but echo—where are they!
That made thee seem so passing fair,—
The aspirations wild and high,
The soul to nobly dare,—
Oh, where are they, stern ruin, say?—
Thou dost but echo—where are they!
Adieu!—Be still to other hearts
What thou wert long ago to mine;
And when the blissful dream departs,
Do thou a beacon shine,
To guide the mourner, through his tears,
To the blest scenes of happier years.
What thou wert long ago to mine;
And when the blissful dream departs,
Do thou a beacon shine,
To guide the mourner, through his tears,
To the blest scenes of happier years.
55
Farewell!—I ask no prouder boon,
Than that my parting hour may be
Bright as the evening skies of June;—
Thus, thus to fade like thee,
With heavenly Faith's soul-cheering ray
To gild with glory my decay!
Than that my parting hour may be
Bright as the evening skies of June;—
Thus, thus to fade like thee,
With heavenly Faith's soul-cheering ray
To gild with glory my decay!
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