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TWENTY-SEVEN RONDEAUX,
89
IX. GLIDE ON, FAIR STREAM.
Glide on, fair stream, whose silver sound
Fills the green valley to its bound,
And falls in cadence deep and clear,
Like music on the listening ear,
'Till grief is in remembrance drowned.
Fills the green valley to its bound,
And falls in cadence deep and clear,
Like music on the listening ear,
'Till grief is in remembrance drowned.
Thy banks to me are haunted ground,
Recalling hours with blessings crowned:
Ah! would that they again were here!
Glide on, fair stream!
Recalling hours with blessings crowned:
Ah! would that they again were here!
Glide on, fair stream!
When musing here in thought profound,
Ghosts from the past my steps surround;
And, glassed within thy waves, appear
Faces I held and hold most dear,
And in whose light my life I found.
Glide on, fair stream!
Ghosts from the past my steps surround;
And, glassed within thy waves, appear
Faces I held and hold most dear,
And in whose light my life I found.
Glide on, fair stream!
98
XVIII. O FAIR BLUE SEA.
O fair blue sea! I love thy sounding shore,
The cadenced music of thy measured roar;
In calm or storm, I care not which it be,
Thou art a rapture and an ecstasy,
As in the golden times that are no more.
The cadenced music of thy measured roar;
In calm or storm, I care not which it be,
Thou art a rapture and an ecstasy,
As in the golden times that are no more.
When sad or wearied, to thy verge I flee,
To watch thy waters dashing wild and free,
As I have often stood and watched before,
O fair blue sea!
To watch thy waters dashing wild and free,
As I have often stood and watched before,
O fair blue sea!
The hills and streams oft fail to solace me,
But solace never fails when sought of thee.
Peace ever to the mind thou dost restore,
And still thy voice is what it was of yore,
A revelation and a mystery,
O fair blue sea!
But solace never fails when sought of thee.
Peace ever to the mind thou dost restore,
And still thy voice is what it was of yore,
A revelation and a mystery,
O fair blue sea!
99
XIX. IN LAKELAND.
Fair mountain lake amid the lonely hills,
Fed by the flowings of a thousand rills,
That flash like silver down the mountain-side,
I watch the shining ripples o'er thee glide,
And peace once more my happy bosom fills.
Fed by the flowings of a thousand rills,
That flash like silver down the mountain-side,
I watch the shining ripples o'er thee glide,
And peace once more my happy bosom fills.
I see thy golden fringe of daffodils,
And hear the low-voiced breeze that through them thrills,
And vexing passions in my heart subside,
Fair mountain lake!
And hear the low-voiced breeze that through them thrills,
And vexing passions in my heart subside,
Fair mountain lake!
A beauty from thy tranquil face distils,
Which the soul's tumult gently soothes and stills;
Ah, would that I could ever here abide,
Close to the dark-blue waters of thy tide,
And wander near thee as my fancy wills,
Fair mountain lake!
Which the soul's tumult gently soothes and stills;
Ah, would that I could ever here abide,
Close to the dark-blue waters of thy tide,
And wander near thee as my fancy wills,
Fair mountain lake!
101
XXI. SWEET VESPER BELLS.
Sweet vesper bells, whose chimes from yonder tower,
Come floating on the breeze with healing power,
And fill with music all the trembling air!
Fresh hope ye bring to hearts that ache with care,
As dews of eve revive the drooping flowers.
Come floating on the breeze with healing power,
And fill with music all the trembling air!
Fresh hope ye bring to hearts that ache with care,
As dews of eve revive the drooping flowers.
The heart is lifted up in praise and prayer,
As fall your liquid tones, a silver shower,
Upon the open champagne, broad and fair,
Sweet vesper bells!
As fall your liquid tones, a silver shower,
Upon the open champagne, broad and fair,
Sweet vesper bells!
Of all the day I hail that pensive hour,
When the shy bird of night sings in her bower
Songs sweet as love yet plaintive as despair,
And fond and faithful echoes gently bear
To all, your benediction as a dower,
Sweet vesper bells!
When the shy bird of night sings in her bower
Songs sweet as love yet plaintive as despair,
And fond and faithful echoes gently bear
To all, your benediction as a dower,
Sweet vesper bells!
103
XXIII. A WISH.
Fain would I pass from all the pain,
The aching heart and weary brain,
From gnawing grief and withering care,
And passion rising to despair,
From love dissatisfied and vain.
The aching heart and weary brain,
From gnawing grief and withering care,
And passion rising to despair,
From love dissatisfied and vain.
From tears that burn the cheeks they stain,
And hopes that droop like flowers in rain,
From sorrows that turn grey the hair,
Fain would I pass!
And hopes that droop like flowers in rain,
From sorrows that turn grey the hair,
Fain would I pass!
Beyond the silent, soundless main,
Where the long lost are found again,
Where summer smiles for ever fair,
Where skies are pure, divine the air,
Where love and joy eternal reign,
Fain would I pass!
Where the long lost are found again,
Where summer smiles for ever fair,
Where skies are pure, divine the air,
Where love and joy eternal reign,
Fain would I pass!
105
XXV. CONTRITION.
The contrite heart, this in God's eyes
Is the most welcome sacrifice;
With this no other can compare,
None is so costly, none so fair;
All other gifts it far outvies.
Is the most welcome sacrifice;
With this no other can compare,
None is so costly, none so fair;
All other gifts it far outvies.
No sweeter songs than those sad sighs
That from a broken spirit rise,
When penitence reveals in prayer
The contrite heart!
That from a broken spirit rise,
When penitence reveals in prayer
The contrite heart!
God loves these low impassioned cries;
He hears them in His Paradise;
It matters not when breathed, or where;
With angels' songs His ear they share,
For in their pleading He descries
The contrite heart!
He hears them in His Paradise;
It matters not when breathed, or where;
With angels' songs His ear they share,
For in their pleading He descries
The contrite heart!
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