Poems By William Walsham How ... New and Enlarged Edition |
 |
The Home View.
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
 | Poems |  |
48
The Home View.
(NEARWELL, SHREWSBURY.)
Oh! God be praisèd for a home
Begirt with beauty rare,
A perfect home, where gentle thoughts
Are trained mid' scenes so fair.
Begirt with beauty rare,
A perfect home, where gentle thoughts
Are trained mid' scenes so fair.
And where (God grant it so) the heart
That loves a beauteous view,
The while it grows in truth and taste,
May grow in goodness too.
That loves a beauteous view,
The while it grows in truth and taste,
May grow in goodness too.
For 'tis my creed that part to part
So clingeth in the soul,
That whatsoe'er doth better one,
That bettereth the whole:
So clingeth in the soul,
That whatsoe'er doth better one,
That bettereth the whole:
And whoso readeth nature's book
Wide spread throughout the earth,
Will something add unto his love
Of wisdom and of worth.
Wide spread throughout the earth,
Will something add unto his love
Of wisdom and of worth.
49
Then God be praisèd for a home,
With dower of beauty blest,
That seeth o'er a sunny plain
The mountains in the West—
With dower of beauty blest,
That seeth o'er a sunny plain
The mountains in the West—
Fair hills, where tender hues and tints
With flecks of sunshine stray,
So full of change that some new grace
Comes up with each new day;
With flecks of sunshine stray,
So full of change that some new grace
Comes up with each new day;
Now cut in the clear depth of sky
With outline sharp and pure!
Now distanced by the hazy sun,
In misty lights obscure.
With outline sharp and pure!
Now distanced by the hazy sun,
In misty lights obscure.
I see them now all softly shine
In one wide azure glow,
While bands of shadow o'er the lands
Between are moving slow.
In one wide azure glow,
While bands of shadow o'er the lands
Between are moving slow.
And now all dark in solemn range
At evening hour they stand,
Fringed upward to green spaces clear
With shining orange band.
At evening hour they stand,
Fringed upward to green spaces clear
With shining orange band.
On gleamy days I see full oft
A fall of sunrays drop
Gently as flocks of birds alight
Upon a southern slope.
A fall of sunrays drop
Gently as flocks of birds alight
Upon a southern slope.
50
Or else I see them softly steal
Up some gorse-golden steep,
Or down a hazel-feathered gorge,
Slowly, like browsing sheep.
Up some gorse-golden steep,
Or down a hazel-feathered gorge,
Slowly, like browsing sheep.
The passing storm will oft throw out
(In sunny contrast seen)
Upon the grassy mountain-side
A space of vivid green.
(In sunny contrast seen)
Upon the grassy mountain-side
A space of vivid green.
And oft a train of distant smoke
(So in God's earth and sky
All things have beauty, rightly seen,)
Like silver floweth by.
(So in God's earth and sky
All things have beauty, rightly seen,)
Like silver floweth by.
And every hue that painters know,
And every shade they love,
Cometh upon those beauteous hills,
Down from the heavens above.
And every shade they love,
Cometh upon those beauteous hills,
Down from the heavens above.
And I might sing of fairest things
Within the nearer plain,
And count the glorious works of God
Once more in scanty strain.
Within the nearer plain,
And count the glorious works of God
Once more in scanty strain.
For there are meadows golden green,
Where shadows broad and deep
Of rounded elms, and dark-leav'd oaks,
And crookèd hawthorns, sleep.
Where shadows broad and deep
Of rounded elms, and dark-leav'd oaks,
And crookèd hawthorns, sleep.
51
And there are wooded banks and curves,
Uprising far and nigh,
And gracefully thro' copsewood slopes
The poplar shooteth high.
Uprising far and nigh,
And gracefully thro' copsewood slopes
The poplar shooteth high.
And thus by morning and by eve,
The same yet ever new,
I drink into my inmost soul
The glories of the view:—
The same yet ever new,
I drink into my inmost soul
The glories of the view:—
Thanking the God of heaven and earth
For making all so fair;
And hallowing my perfect joy
With praises and with prayer.
For making all so fair;
And hallowing my perfect joy
With praises and with prayer.
(1850.)
| Poems | |