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When, long ago, the daring of my youth
Drew nigh thy greatness with a little thing,
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I would I were a child,
That I might look, and laugh, and say, My Father!
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"They have no more wine!" she said.
But they had enough of bread;
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All sights and sounds of day and year,
All groups and forms, each leaf and gem,
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Cold my heart, and poor, and low,
Like thy stable in the rock;
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Now far from my old northern land,
I live where gentle winters pass;
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When I look back upon my life nigh spent,
Nigh spent, although the stream as yet flows on,
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My heart is full of inarticulate pain,
And beats laborious. Cold ungenial looks
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"Rejoice," said the Sun; "I will make thee gay
With glory and gladness and holiday;
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I know what beauty is, for thou
Hast set the world within my heart;
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I love thy skies, thy sunny mists,
Thy fields, thy mountains hoar,
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Grief held me silent in my seat;
I neither moved nor smiled:
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He who by a mother's love
Made the wandering world his own,
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My Lily snatches not my gift;
Glad is she to be fed,
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Star high,
Baby low:
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We doubt the word that tells us: Ask,
And ye shall have your prayer;
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Daylight fades away.
Is the Lord at hand
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I.
When round the earth the Father's hands
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Come unto me, the Master says:--
But how? I am not good;
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O do not leave me, mother, lest I weep;
Till I forget, be near me in that chair.
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Ah, holy midnight of the soul,
When stars alone are high;
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A quiet heart, submissive, meek,
Father, do thou bestow,
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Gray clouds my heaven have covered o'er;
My sea ebbs fast, no more to flow;
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Father, in the dark I lay,
Thirsting for the light,
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The brother knew well the castle old,
Every closet, each outlook fair,
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Shepherd, on before thy sheep,
Hear thy lamb that bleats behind!
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Merry, merry we well may be,
For Jesus Christ is come down to see:
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\The Year Of The Trouble In Lancashire\
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The infant lies in blessed ease
Upon his mother's breast;
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Babe Jesus lay in Mary's lap,
The sun shone in his hair;
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Had I the grace to win the grace
Of some old man in lore complete,
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'Tis time to sleep, my little boy:
Why gaze thy bright eyes so?
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If I might guess, then guess I would
That, mid the gathered folk,
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Christmas-Days are still in store:--
Will they change--steal faded hither?
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As Jesus went into Jericho town,
Twas darkness all, from toe to crown,
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Though in my heart no Christmas glee,
Though my song-bird be dumb,
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O Lord of life, thy quickening voice
Awakes my morning song!
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I.
In the ancient house of ages,
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O God, whose daylight leadeth down
Into the sunless way,
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I.
Hark, in the steeple the dull bell swinging
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I follow, tottering, in the funeral train
That bears my body to the welcoming grave.
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It is no winter night comes down
Upon our hearts, dear friends of old;
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A tattered soldier, gone the glow and gloss,
With wounds half healed, and sorely trembling knee,
4 lines, 1 comment
Well for youth to seek the strong,
Beautiful, and brave!
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If I did seem to you no more
Than to myself I seem,
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1 - 45 of 45
1 - 45 of 45
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