Past cot and farm, through vale and dell; Through ravines, where the red deer dwell Beside the forest ford; Where hawthorn wild, The woodland's child, Delights the eye with bloom. Where trailing honeysuckles wind their stems Grow sweet forget-me-nots Of starry hue And deep, dark blue, Bright groups of silent beauty. Past reeds and rushes, where the duck, The coot and water-hen Oft find a shelter for themselves From prying eyes of men; And rest secure, Though still endure The sounds of dog and gun. By mill and weir, with bridge and pier, Across the foaming tide; Where mosses rank adorn the bank, And ferns both tall and wide. Where turning round With joyous sound The mill-wheel churns the tide. In small, tumultuous cataracts Of waters white and strong; Whose rushing, leaping, bounding waves Are full of life and song ; As on their course They murmur hoarse Throughout the livelong day. So ever on, and deep'ning as it goes, A tributary bright, The Brooklet to the River flows, There closely to unite In bonds for ever Which none can sever, Save He who made us all. And thence toward the Mighty Sea, Whose billows evermore Proclaim that future Vast Eternity Beyond this Earthly Shore, Where weary rest Amid the blest, And God alone doth Reign. That Night again amid my Dreams To rise and swell As an Ocean shell Re-echoes the surges of its home. It spoke to me of a gladsome time When Boyhood's rosy morning prime And free from care, And swift as hare, I bounded like the Brooklet's flow. How soon those happy Schoolboy Days flew by! Full well do I remember; Till eagerly I longed to cast The ties of School asunder; I wish them back, With all the Master's Thunder. Then came the Maiden whom I loved With eyes of winning glow; And glossy, beauteous, blue-black hair, Like bloom upon the sloe. She won my heart, But oh, the smart! Death claimed her for his own. Then sought I in the World's broad Battlefield To win a share of Fame, And write on Time's deep-dinted Shield. The lustre of my name. And thus remove The pangs of Love By hard work and Renown. Alas, alas! as Time sped by, Yea, all alone Among my Fellow-men! Yet onward still this Course of Life Through varied Scenes doth run Already to mine ear In accents sweet and clear The music of that Land is sung. Composed at Brawby, July, 1885. The Rye and Seven are the Rivers from whence the various Scenes are taken. THE EVENING BREEZE. SWEET messenger of Eve! I love thy soft caress, I love thy gentle Song; As through the Country lanes, Thine anthems peal along ; With fragrance of the plains. Thy breath is nectar sweet, Like honey from the bee; Borne on thy pinions fleet, From mountain, moor, and lea. 'Tis sweet to hear thee pass O'er rocky Cliffs at Night; Making music mid the grass, That crowns their rugged height. With wondrous soothing sound, To join the restless Main. |