 | Songs in the twilight |  |
41
SONGS IN THE TWILIGHT.
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LIFE'S CONTRASTS.
He wooed her in the sweet spring days,
When flowers were scenting all the air,
And soft winds whispered in the leaves,
And skies were blue, and life was fair.
When flowers were scenting all the air,
And soft winds whispered in the leaves,
And skies were blue, and life was fair.
He won her on a summer eve,
Beneath a stretch of purple sky,
And through the fields they walked that night,
Pledged to each other till they die.
Beneath a stretch of purple sky,
And through the fields they walked that night,
Pledged to each other till they die.
Upon them fell the sweet moonshine:
Was it a dream? or was it true?
The world at once had grown so bright
That sooth to say they hardly knew.
Was it a dream? or was it true?
The world at once had grown so bright
That sooth to say they hardly knew.
He wedded her in the long, long days;
The bells rang out; he bore her home;
And time flew by on rapid wing—
Across two lives new light had come.
The bells rang out; he bore her home;
And time flew by on rapid wing—
Across two lives new light had come.
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Dear household ways, and household truth,
And homely peace, and gentle cheer;
And days and nights of full content,
In which each grew to each more dear.
And homely peace, and gentle cheer;
And days and nights of full content,
In which each grew to each more dear.
Then came a boy to crown their love,
With rose-bud lips for mother's kiss,
To give the earth a richer joy,
To lend each day a fresher bliss.
With rose-bud lips for mother's kiss,
To give the earth a richer joy,
To lend each day a fresher bliss.
Ah! why should summers ever wane,
Or tempest sweep across the sky;
Or change pass o'er a happy dream—
Love grow to pain;—and pleasures die?
Or tempest sweep across the sky;
Or change pass o'er a happy dream—
Love grow to pain;—and pleasures die?
Why should the face be wan with grief,
Or heart, o'ercharged with weight of care,
Sicken beneath a hope deferred,
And nurse a keen and dark despair?
Or heart, o'ercharged with weight of care,
Sicken beneath a hope deferred,
And nurse a keen and dark despair?
Why not all life be as that night,
'Mid breath of flowers—'neath shining skies,
When the fair girl was wooed as wife,
With whispered words and sweet replies?
'Mid breath of flowers—'neath shining skies,
When the fair girl was wooed as wife,
With whispered words and sweet replies?
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The din of war shook all the land,
And harshly grated on the ear,
And loving homes sent forth their best,
And loving hearts forced back the tear.
And harshly grated on the ear,
And loving homes sent forth their best,
And loving hearts forced back the tear.
The cause of freedom, truth, and right,
Summoned the noble and the brave;
And he must march down to the West,
And fill, if need, a soldier's grave.
Summoned the noble and the brave;
And he must march down to the West,
And fill, if need, a soldier's grave.
“He dared not shrink from such a call,”
So spoke he to the trembling wife;
Where others went he too must go,
Honour was dearer far than life!
So spoke he to the trembling wife;
Where others went he too must go,
Honour was dearer far than life!
She listened weeping to his words,
Close held him to her breaking heart,
And all the world grew dark and cold;
'Twas death in life from him to part.
Close held him to her breaking heart,
And all the world grew dark and cold;
'Twas death in life from him to part.
“Dora, my wife, my life, my love,
The great God lives in yonder sky;
Trust Him;—I leave but for a time:
Is He not, darling, always nigh?
The great God lives in yonder sky;
Trust Him;—I leave but for a time:
Is He not, darling, always nigh?
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“Sweet heart, lift up thy drooping head;
Look with brave eyes straight into mine;
When far away on tented field,
Their light will often on me shine.
Look with brave eyes straight into mine;
When far away on tented field,
Their light will often on me shine.
“I would be strong, not weak, true wife—
Help me to say the last ‘good-bye;’
For here, or there, where'er I be,
Am I not thine until I die?
Help me to say the last ‘good-bye;’
For here, or there, where'er I be,
Am I not thine until I die?
“Yea, after death: if I should fall
'Mid battle's storm upon the plain,
Thou and our boy will join me soon;
And life is little: death is gain.”
'Mid battle's storm upon the plain,
Thou and our boy will join me soon;
And life is little: death is gain.”
Then, after many a clinging kiss,
He gently tore himself away;
And she, with sorrow in her heart,
Was left alone to wait and pray.
He gently tore himself away;
And she, with sorrow in her heart,
Was left alone to wait and pray.
She sought for patience, and was calm—
She stilled the sorrow at her heart;
She went about her household ways—
The child to soothe her did his part.
She stilled the sorrow at her heart;
She went about her household ways—
The child to soothe her did his part.
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So went the days, a weary round,
Telling each other as they passed,
All bearing this one weight of care—
And still the saddest was the last.
Telling each other as they passed,
All bearing this one weight of care—
And still the saddest was the last.
Then flashed a message 'neath the sea,
Which smote upon the startled ear,
And emptied Christmas homes of joy,
Filling a nation's heart with fear.
Which smote upon the startled ear,
And emptied Christmas homes of joy,
Filling a nation's heart with fear.
A battle had been fought and won,
The balls of death left many slain,
Hundreds died fighting in the breach,
Hundreds lay wounded on the plain.
The balls of death left many slain,
Hundreds died fighting in the breach,
Hundreds lay wounded on the plain.
A whole brigade was under fire,
Each shot a gallant soldier's knell;
Hardly a man escaped with life,
So murd'rous was the fatal shell—
Each shot a gallant soldier's knell;
Hardly a man escaped with life,
So murd'rous was the fatal shell—
Friends came to break the fatal news,
But faltered, and their voices shook;
She raised her eyes in sudden fear,
And searched each face with eager look—
But faltered, and their voices shook;
She raised her eyes in sudden fear,
And searched each face with eager look—
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And when she heard that he had died
Amongst the foremost in the fight,
The hand of death was at her heart,
And on her fell a cloud like night.
Amongst the foremost in the fight,
The hand of death was at her heart,
And on her fell a cloud like night.
They strove to speak some healing words,
To take from sorrow's edge the pain—
Poor breaking heart! What comfort now?—
With love both life and hope were slain.
To take from sorrow's edge the pain—
Poor breaking heart! What comfort now?—
With love both life and hope were slain.
Then with a brain all sick and blind,
And with a sharp, unconscious cry,
Stricken, she shrank upon the ground:
Ah, well indeed if she could die!
And with a sharp, unconscious cry,
Stricken, she shrank upon the ground:
Ah, well indeed if she could die!
But not for her such sweet release;
She woke to life, not love again;
And crept about as one whose heart
Is daily hurt by some great pain.
She woke to life, not love again;
And crept about as one whose heart
Is daily hurt by some great pain.
She bowed her head to God's decree,
“Thy will,” she meekly said, “be done;”
But the deep wound still bled within,
And often forced from her a moan.
“Thy will,” she meekly said, “be done;”
But the deep wound still bled within,
And often forced from her a moan.
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Her child too sickened, pined, and died;
And when she laid it in its shroud,
She wept, but not as mothers weep,
Whose grief is violent and loud.
And when she laid it in its shroud,
She wept, but not as mothers weep,
Whose grief is violent and loud.
She could not sorrow for the boy,
That she had given life to save,
But only wished she too could die,
And lie beside him in the grave.—
That she had given life to save,
But only wished she too could die,
And lie beside him in the grave.—
Her face grew hollow, and a fire
Like crimson burned on either cheek;
Her eyes had caught the wistful look
Of one who far-off worlds doth seek.
Like crimson burned on either cheek;
Her eyes had caught the wistful look
Of one who far-off worlds doth seek.
They buried her in winter days,
When all the land was white with snow;
Thankful to God her pain had passed,
And restful death had crowned her woe.
When all the land was white with snow;
Thankful to God her pain had passed,
And restful death had crowned her woe.
| Songs in the twilight | |