SONGS OF ADIEU LORD HENRY SOMERSET / An\S^1D0 ■XVYV^KON __ Cornell University Library PR 5459.S54S6 Songs of adieu. 3 1924 013 552 710 The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013552710 SONGS OF ADIEU LORD HENRY SOMERSET 7SD*2»:^3^^ LONDON CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY, W. 1889 [ylil Rights reseri/idl K.v^^ ^oo London : Printed by Strangeways and Sons, Tower St., Cambridge Circus, W.C. CONTENTS. ONE MORE .... I BURIED MEMORIES 2 COME BACK ! . . . 5 ST. Paul's cathedral 7 A SONG OF SHIPS . ID A HARVEST SONG . II TO A PHOTOGRAPH 12 ONE SHORT HOUR . 13 THE BIRD 14 GOLD, SILVER, AND LEAD 15 THE BIRDS IN DEAN's COURT, ST. PAUL's 16 A SONG OF THE STREAM OF LIFE . 18 FINISHED ! . 19 IV Contents. IN THE DUPPLIN WOODS 23 LAST NIGHT .... 25 THE EXILE 28 A FALLING STAR . 30 THY WILL BE DONE ! . 32 THOU ART NO LONGER NEAR . 34 A SONG OF GRIEF AND JOY AND LOVE 35 TEN YEARS AGO .... 37 SPRING AND WINTER . 39 THINE ! . . . 40 SONGS OF THE NIGHT . 41 TWO ROSES AND A LILY 43 IN COVENT GARDEN MARKET 44 THREE BURDENS .... 1 45 *THE EVENING BRINGS ALL HOME' 46 A LIVING GRAVE .... 48 SO STILL ! 50 A SONG OF DEATH 51 A SONG OF LOVERS • 52 Lionte nts. V A PRAYER PAGE 34 HAVE YOU NO WORD ? . 56 OF THOSE AT SEA .... 57 ' MY HARP IS TURNED TO MOURNING ' 59 TURN YOUR FACES 61 FORGET YOU ? 63 O MY DEAR ONE ! 64 AND THEN 66 COULD I BUT KNOW ! 68 ON THE BREEZY UPLAND 69 A PRIMROSE 71 DIDST THOU BUT SLEEP 73 I LOVE YOU 75 REMEMBER ME 77 FAR AWAY . 79 BREAK THROUGH ! 81 ALONG THE SANDS 83 THE RAISING OF LAZARUS 8S ONE ALONE ! 87 VI Contents. A SUNSET SEEN THROUGH THE BRANCHES OF A YEW- TREE ........ 88 THREE FATEFUL DAYS 9O FORSAKEN ! 9I DEDICATION. /^ THOU, who on my empty life didji Jhine ^^ Turning my night to one Jhort, glorious day, Who on my heart didJi lay Thy hand divine That woke from Jleep its cold, infenfate clay. To Thee I confecrate this faultful book., Thefe halting lines, unworthy though they be, — To Thee on whom I nevermore Jhall look In fpeechlefs love and fpellbound ecjlafy — Ah, nevermore ! for art Thou not as dead. Dead, dead, alas ! more dead than dead to me ? — Ah, nevermore I for on my lucklefs head Have broke thejiorms of curfd calamity. And Thou art not. And in Thy place there reigns An empty void, a vacuum of tears. And I fit weeping, palfted by thefe pains That wajie my youth and wear away my years. Ah ! read my love in every fingle line That in this book hath fallen from my pen. vm Dedication. Read, read therein that oldfweet dream divine That ne'er on earth can be for us again. And as Thou readeji think once more of me And weep with me for that wild, blijfful paft. And pray that in God's bleji eternity We two may reji in endlefs love at laji. SONGS OF ADIEU. ONE MORE. /^NE more glimpfe of the fun, ^^ One more breath of the fea. One more kifs from my darling one — Then, Death, come fpeedily ! One more fmile from my fweet. One more clafp of a hand. One more found of returning feet — Then come, that Better Land ! One more paffionate prayer To Chrift, that He fhall be My Guide as I climb the Golden Stair — Then come, Eternity ! BURIED MEMORIES. I .T was an empty grave. And into it my every care I caft. No hope did hold, no fmgle forrov^ fave From out my paft. Into that deep, dark hole Each thruft-out, murdered memory I threw, And laughed out loud, and longed within my foul For pleafures new. ' Life is not long,' faid I, ' And haggard Death hangs over every one : What good is gained by wafting mifery On what is done ? ' Then ere I turned away I trimmed the grave and left thereof no trace. Buried Memories. Then wooed the world afrefli, all glad and gay, With merry face. Years fled and youth flew by. And to the dregs I drank of Pleafure's cup, My foul, grown fat with fair feftivity, Was lifted up. It chanced one fummer's eve My friends and I with jeft and joyous fong Came forth the ftill,fweet, fun-warmed air to breathe, A carelefs throng. Then with light laugh 1 faid, ' Of all thefe faireft flowers that I fee I will a garland gather, and my head Shall crowned be,' I ftooped me down to pluck The firft fair bud that blofibmed hard at hand. And in an inftant, as though thunderftruck. Like ftone did ftand. Buried Memories. For from that flower to me There came a lingering, long-forgotten fcent, And ftraightway a ftrange throb of memory Through my heart went. ' O flower moft fair,' I faid, ' What facred foil is this that fweetens thee With perfume of a paft I deemed was dead Long fince to me ? ' Then down I dug full deep. And when my fpade gave forth a warning found I wift not whether to rejoice or weep O'er what I found. Ah ! there at reft they lay. The dear, dead bones of memories ftill fweet. The relics of a far-off, fairer day Were at my feet. Then my hard heart I hurled Into that grave, and laid it low befide Thofe bones beloved — then to the outer world In them it died. COME BACK! I CANNOT live without thee — 'oh, come back ! Come back to him that, weeping, waits for thee ; For life is death without thee — oh, come back ! Dear love, that art the very life of me. Haft thou no care that, ebbing all too faft. My youth is fcorched and fcarred with burning tears ? Hath thy hard heart no memories of the paft, No longings for the love of happier years ? Haft thou forgotten all thou faidft to me That night of love when on the bridge we met ? — Ah ! bafelefs dreams of endlefs ecftafy That I would give a lifetime to forget ! — Why didft thou turn my path from fmooth to rough. That knew no ftiadows till that fateful day ? 6 Qome Back. Hadft thou not lift of lovers long enough That thou muft ftoop to fteal my heart away ? And yet I cannot chide thee, for thou art My love — and that is all in all to me : Behold my tear-dimmed eyes, my broken heart, And read howr wrildly do I worfhip thee. Come back ! come back ! I beg from thee this b( Oh, turn thine ear and hearken to my cry — Come back ! come back ! and come, dear love, fi For if thou come not foon I needs muft die. ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL. Past. TIS winter, but the fun fliines cheerily, And all things feem to fmile on you and me, As with low laughter fweet We mount the old ftone fteps on mexry feet. Then with our laughter huflied to happy-fmiles We pafs within, and wandering through the aifles We choofe fome pleafant place Wherein to fit beneath the dome's wide fpace. Then from the choir a flood of harmony Flows all around — a gracious, golden fea. And o'er our hearts it rolls And fteeps in fweetnels our thrice-happy fouls. Sf. Taul's Cathedral. Peal on ! great Organ, let thy glorious voice To Heaven refound and with my heart rejoice : Sing out ! O Choir, and raife With me your thankful hymns of higheft praife. Ay ! praife be to God, for He has given us love To fweeten life and lift our fouls above The cankered cares of earth Now left behind in this our fecond birth. What joy is ours ! How fliall there ever be A jarring note in this glad harmony ? Yea, to the very end Our heaven-blefled lives in one long love fliall blend. Present. 'Tis winter now again — I mount thofe felf-fame fleps with languid feet : I am alone, and grief and grinding pain On my life beat. What matters where I go ? I wander in and choofe fome vacant chair — St. 'Paul's Qathedral. i The firft that comeS' — I care not which — I know One is not there ! The mufic's mournful note Conies in upon my foul, and all around Old memories wake and fadly feem to float On that fweet found. O Choir ! fing mournfully. Sing faddeft ftrains, for I am fore and fad, Nor jar upon my joylefs mifery With anthems glad. Speak to my heart of Heaven And fing of fongs fung there beyond the grave. And tell me that thefe griefs God-given Our fouls (hall fave. Oh, nevermore fliall we Together walk thine allies, O temple fair — Teach us at leaft this leflbn — learnt in thee — Our crofs to bear. lO e^ SONg OF SHITS. THE (hips come failing from the fea. Up from the river mouth, Sailing on to the noify quay From eaft and weft and fouth. ' O fliips, what burden do ye bear Home from the boundlefs blue ? Is all your freight but dull defpair, Or laughter fweet your crew?' ' Oh ! we have old and we have young. And we have good and bad. And we have hearts by forrows wrung And lives by love made glad. ' With grief and joy we come again. But, ah ! poor lover true. We bring no folace for your pain. No fingle word to you.' 1 1 A HAI^FESr S03^. A SULLEN fall of ceafelefs rain, A Iky of ink, a world of grey, A fhattered hope of golden grain — Harveft ! forfooth, on fuch a day ! Harveft indeed — of bitter tears To blight life's blackened fields of corn ! Harveft of fuch heart-broken years That one could wifli them never born ! 12 TO A THorog%APH. O LOVED and loft ! with the dreamy, tender eyes, What foft, myfterious fweetnefs underlies That filent fmile of thine. That moves my heart like mufic half divine ? O love ! my love ! thou haft a fubtle power To ftir my fenfes like fome fragrant, flower, Whofe petals, opening, bear A ftrong, fweet fcent to all the fummer air. Yea, like that perfume is my love for thee. For both delights are born of purity And both are palling fweet — love, kind lord, keep pure our wayward feet ! — 1 love thee more than all on earth befide, And if till death this cruel woe betide Thy memory for me Shall live, a dream of fair felicity. ONE SH01(T HOU% GOOD is bad to me, gold but worthlefs drofs, Laughter tear-laden and all fweetnefs four : What gain is gain to me that weep the lofs Of one fhort hour ? There is no gladnefs in the morning light. For me no fragrance in the fun-warmed flower, Mufic is difcord, day but dawnlefs night, Since one {hort hour. Oh, would I could hie me over the fea. Though the florm-winds blow and the ftorm-clouds lower, And reft in the haven where I would be. For one fliort hour ! H A BIRD fits finging in a tree So high above my head, — Tell me, dear bird, if love for me For evermore is dead ? — He fings on ftill, but in his note There breathes a faddened ftrain. No words come welling from his throat, But every throb is pain. I thank him for his clemency, I could not bear the blow That words would give in telling me What all too well I know. 15 gOLD, SILFSR, AND LSAT>. A LIFE of gold — thofe early years. When love was new and knew no tears. And the long fair future laughed at fears. In thee, dear love, in thee Was all my glad heart's ecftafy ! A life of filver, all too faft. Upon our lives its cold gleams caft, And paled the gold that could not laft. By thee, dear love, by thee My heart was racked with jealoufy. Ah ! what is left ? A life of lead ! A feeble, flickering light, juft fed By thoughts of what for aye is dead. For thee, dear love, for thee My heart dies down in agony ! ]6 rff£ BIRrOS 15^ DSAN'S COWF^T, ST. PAUL'S. THE fad, fweet found of evenfong is huflied. The laft, low wail of pfalm and anthem done, I ftand without, and all the weft is fluflied In fetting fun. Houfe of God ! that art fo dear to me, 1 turn me fadly from thy facred fane : 'Tis thou alone canft foothe the mifery Of my heart's pain. For 'twas in thee, in thofe fweet, happier years. We drank deep draughts of melody divine. Nor ever dreamt of thofe remembering tears That now are mine. The Birds in Dean's Court, St. Paul's. 17 Good night ! good night ! and on my homeward way 1 pafs, as always, fadly pondering, And paufe a moment here where twice a-day The brown birds fing. Sunrife and funfet fee that feathered throng Thick gathered there, methinks, in yon tall trees To fing their matins and their evenfong, Their Lord to pleafe. O happy birds ! there feem no jarring notes In your fweet pfalms of hope and joy and love : 'Tis one long hymn of happinefs that floats To God above. Sing on ! fing on ! I would not have you fad — 'Tis only men muft weep and fufFer here — Sing daily forth to God your anthems glad From year to year. And let me feek fometimes a moment's peace In liftening to your fongs that are fo fair : Perchance in them my heart awhile fliall ceafe From dull defpair. c i8 A SONG OF TH6 ST%SAM OF LIF6. AH ! but it's lonely drifting here ^ Down the ftream through the darkening night, The low, flat banks are wafte and drear — Oh, for the light ! One little lantern at the prow Lit from a fummer's golden ray — A glory then — a glimmer now — Oh, for the day ! Yea, for a time we, happy pair, Floated by on the felf-fame ftream. Making fweet mufic to the air — Ah ! vanifhed dream ! Now through the night my voice founds low — ' Love ! my own love ! I die for thee ! Loft at length is the river's flow In death's calm fea ! ' 19 FINISHED ! FINISHED ! the day that brought us dear delight, And wearily I ftretch me on my bed, Weeping the death of day, the birth of night. Weeping for funlit hours for ever fled. Oh, for that thrill of the firft flufli of dawn ! Oh, for the glory of golden-red fea ! Oh, for that breeze rippling by through the corn And the fong-birds' awakening ecftafy ! Then life was fo happy and hope was fo high — The glad fun fhone out and blazed full in my face. And deep from my heart a wild, paiEonate cry Welled forth at the touch of its glorious embrace. What though the bright glare of noontide opprefled us, And all things were filent and wan from the heat ? 20 Finijhed! Its fires foon paled and a foft wind carefled us. And fanned our flufhed faces and played round our feet. O fhort, fweet hoiirs of eventide. The, beft, the deareft of the day. We cried to you, ' With us abide !' — But, ah ! you waned and pafled away. Good night ! good night ! the day is done. The final niefh of the web is fpun, The laft ray funk, the fands all run — Finiflied ! alas ! for aye ! for aye ! Finiflied ! the life, that life fo pure and fweet. And we who here ftand weeping round the grave Know all too well that nevermore fliall beat The heart of hearts we would have died to fave. Murdered ! in all the ftrength of youth's bright day ! Murdered ! the vidlim of a ruthlefs band, A loathfome crew whofe luft it is to flay With covert thruft and foul affaflin hand ! O dear, dear dead, though thou and we muft part, Though through long years thy love we may not know. Finijhed ! 21 . Thou liveft ftill at leaft in one poor heart That daily weeps thy deftiny of woe. Juftice ! juftice ! my God ! how long? how long? Wilt Thou not fee and (halt Thou not repay ? Avenge, O Lord, avenge this cruel wrong And let the murdered rife to light of day ! Ye that in this world have your eafe And fatten on your goodly fliore, Who live but for yourfelves to pleafe And on all elfe fliut faft your door. Laugh on ! make merry ! eat and drink ! Live out your lives ! nor ever think Of all that's fnapped this young life's link — Finiflied ! alas ! for evermore ! Finifhed ! the love, that was mine all in all. And in love's bitter death life ceafed for me, And on my foul the leaves of autumn fall Where fummer ftill fliould reign rejoicingly ! Thou beauteous god ! imperial monarch ! Love ! That holdeft in thy hand the lives of men. 2 2 Finijhed ! Why doft thou fliow thy fair face from above. And, having toyed vsrlth us, draw back again ? O fun of funs ! O lord of all delight ! Haft thou no ears to hear thy victims' cry ? If thus it be, then kill us in thy might And let us learn at leaft in thee to die. For life without love is a cruel jeft, A branch without fap and a leaflefs tree, A day without fun and a night without reft, A farce played out in feeble mockery. Be ftill, my heart, and fret not fo For what again can never be, The lonely years muft come and go And leave for you but mifery. Be ftill ! there is no death to pain — Shall love die down and live again r — - Ah ! nevermore ! All, all is vain — 'Tis finiftied ! loft ! eternally ! Finifhed ! finiflied ! the love, the life, the day ! And though the night is dark and death accurft. We who have learnt love's fweet, fad leftbn fay- Of all the three the death of love is worft. 23 IN THE DUPPLIN WOODS. No. I. — The Bell. A WILD weft wind is flinging The dead leaves to the ground. And it fets a great bell ringing With weird, uncertain found. I weep, for I remember The voice, to me how dear. That in that glad September Firft founded on mine ear. And 'twixt thefe two wild voices Herein the difference lies — This found in the ftorm rejoices But with the wind it dies : Life's fummer may be finging Or winds of winter roar. But the bell that you fet ringing Rings on for evermore. 24 In the "Dupplin Woods. No. II. — Autumn Leaves. The golden leaves are falling, — Falling one by one. Their tender ' Adieux ' calling To the cold autumnal fun. The trees in the keen and frofty air Stand out againfl: the fky — 'Twould feem they ftretch their branches bare To Heaven in agony. The joys of life are falling, — Falling away from me, I am fick and weary of calling On love for fympathy. There is no cup I have not drunk. No path I have not trod — I ftand like an aged, leaflefs trunk With my arms ftretched out to God. 25 LAST night I dreamt a dream in fleep. And twice I woke and dreamed again : I lay upon a hillfide fteep, Far from all mortal ken. Cold, cold I was and pafling fad With all the burden of my grief, And to the night my foul, half mad, Cried out for fome relief. And firft I called upon my paft, And lo ! he flood and gazed on me, A radiant youth — then fled aghaft Such black defpair to fee. Then to the prefent, ' Friend,' I faid, ' Haft thou no word of comfort fweet .? ' 26 Laft Night. He nothing fpake but fliook his head, Then pafled with filent feet. Then I arofe in maddened mood And loudly bade my future come— And by my fide an old man flood, Stricken, and fad, and dumb. And as he faded from my fight There came a mifl before mine eyes. In burning tears I loft the light, And fell as one that dies. Then, love, dear love, I called on thee To come and wripe aw^ay thofe tears, And drown my dreadful mifery In love of former years. And as I cried, from all around There breathed a breath of mufic fweet. And flowers fprang up and gazed fpell-bound- I clafped and kifled thy feet ! Laft Night. 2y And in thine arms thou foldedft me, And all my foul feemed lulled to reft, And, dead to all the world but thee, Lay pillowed on thy breaft. And then I raifed mine eyes to thine And looked for that fweet, tender love That feemed in happier days divine, Straight fent from Heaven above. Ah ! there the fatal truth I read, Heart-fick and of all hope bereft — The love, the love was loft and dead — 'Twas only pity left. One long, laft look ! one clinging kifs ! And never a fingle word I fpoke. But hurled me down the precipice. And falling thus — awoke ! 28 THS EXILE. O PRAY for me ! That weeping ftand on a diftant fhore, My young days darkened for evermore - O pray for me ! Pray for the homelefs, outcaft one. Pray for the life crufhed out and done Ere yet its youth had fcarce begun — O pray for me ! O think of me ! I loved you well in the days gone by. Together, you faid, we'd live and die- O think of me ! Think then of thofe imperial years. Think, think of all my bitter tears, My racking doubts, my difmal fears — O think of me ! The Exile. 29 Yea, dear one, morning, noon, and night, I think, and weep, and pray for thee. And through my tears my one delight Is born of thy dear memory. My life with thine is paft and o'er. We can but weep for evermore ! 30 OUT in the night I flood and watched the fky And fteadily the ftars looked down on me. And all I afked was there and then to die, And (o at length from pain my foul to free. Yea, better far to lie Within the filent grave and ceafe to be ! And fuddenly there fliot from left to right A brilliant ftar, a flame of brighteft gold. That came I know not whence, ilafhed through the night, And vanifhed, (as a dream that dies untold), Almoft too fwift for fight : — And then the reft reigned once more, pale and cold. 'Twas thus, dear love, I thought, you came to me- A thoufand eyes had met my gaze and mine A Falling Star. 3 1 A thoufand hands had touched, yet cold and free My liftlefs heart looked on and gave no fign. Then, when it was to be. We met — and life was fteeped in joy divine. And when remembrance came that, as the light Of this great ftar, you went and left no trace. Content from this poor heart to wing your flight And lend to other worlds your matchlefs grace. Again I cried — O Night Of Death ! enfold me in your kind embrace ! 32 THT WILL BE DONE/ I STAND and look upon the fea — The hours of day have all but run- There is no love in life for me — Thy vfiW be done ! I ftretch my hands to God on high — I plead for one bright ray of fun — There comes no anfwer from the fky — Thy will be done ! My cry rings out upon the air — A cry for help — -and there is none — How^ deep the depth of my defpair ! — Thy will be done ! The crowd looks on with ftony stare, Nor lifts that love be loft or won Ihy Will be Bone ! 33 For this poor fool that beats the air — Thy will be done ! In twos the lovers pafs me by — Their laft adieux feem never done ! — How ftrange that love Ihould ever die ! — Thy will be done ! There come that weep around a bier — A life crufhed out when fcarce begun — The dead in life was ah ! fo dear — Thy will be done ! Thus grief and joy ! Thus night and day ! For them the two — for me the one — And through the mift of tears I fay — Thy will be done ! 34 THOU ^RT NO LONGER NEAR. T. HOU art no longer near — And all the pulfe of life beats faint and flow, And all the fkies loom dark and grey and drear — I love thee fo ! My love ! how long ago Since laft I faw thy face fo pale and pure ! Why fhould our poor twin-lives, by pain laid low. So long endure ? Thou mufic of my foul. In thoughts of thee the chords have birth and grow. And called from chaos at thy fweet control In love outflow. Lean down and drink, dear love. Of that harmonious ftream, fo {halt thou know The depth wherefrom my heart hath learnt to love And loves thee fo ! 35 ^ SONG OF GRIEF AND JOT A3^ LOVE. THERE is a grief too great for tears, A ftill, dark, ever-deepening night, That eats all heart from out the years That dawned in funfliine golden bright. No word that tells of dull defpair — No moan — no pain-begotten cry — A load, almoft too hard to bear, Is borne — and crufhes filently. There is a joy for fmiles too deep, A heart-content both grave and glad. When happier morn kills happy fleep. Yet all furrounding deem you fad. There is no room for rippling mirth In hearts almoft attune for tears. Since Heaven has lighted down to earth And love reigns lord of all the years. 36 A Song of Qrief and "Joy and Love. There is a Love too grand, too great, Too deep for words, too fweet for fong, That lives for thofe who weep and wait. Though day be daric and night be long. Ah, yes ! to Thee our hearts would prefs And count all things befide but lofs. Poor wanderers in life's wildernefs That feek the folace of Thy Crofs. 37 TEN TE^RS ^GO ! TEN years ago, a little child of feven. You fat with folded ha'nds upon my knee, And told me all your childifli thoughts of Heaven And what you meant your life meanwhile to be. And fang with laughter in your clear blue eyes — ' How fweet the world and fweeter Paradife ! ' But now you fit with hands faft clafped in mine, And in your face there dwells a new delight, And both our lives are bathed in love divine Whofe golden day has dawned upon our night. Ah ! happy tears that glilten in your eyes ! — How fweet is love ! This, this is Paradife ! — ***** Ten years ago ! — and you are twenty-feven — I (land once more and look upon your face : The life has pafled that was to be a heaven — A ten years' hell of darknefs and difgrace ! — 38 Ten Tears zAgo. How wild the glare of thofe dead, fightlefs eyes ! ■ Alas ! they have no look of Paradife ! -^ Poor heart ! poor heart ! I lay you in your grave And leave therein the memories of the paft : One murmured prayer to God your foul to fave. One lingering look — and you have peace at laft. Life lies ftretched out before my wearied eyes — How loft is love ! how far off Paradife ! 39 S'PRINg AND WINTER. I NEVER knew you in the Spring Nor framed in Summer's grace. The tired birds had ceafed to ling When firft I faw your face. And ere a leaf was born again To its wind-tofled parent tree My life's bright light was quenched in pain And you were dead to me. Short, wintry days ! like you, love's glow Faffed all too foon away. Dark hours ! that dawn no more I know That turned yoiir night to day. Summer and Autumn, Winter, Spring Pafs by — I care not how — Those winter days were all my Spring And Spring is Winter now. 40 THINE! 1'^HINE for ever ! darling one ! Thine ! through the ftricken, ftruggling years ! Thine ! though the darknefs finks my fun, Loft, loft in tears ! Thine ! in this toilfome, thorn-ftrewn way ! Thine ! in the tranfient gleams of light — Thoughts of a long-paft happier day, Ere all was night ! Thine for ever ! love of mine ! Thine ! though the worldlings curfe and rave — My heart and foul and body thine Until the grave ! Thine ! in a far-off fairer place ! Thine ! on a bright and tearlefs fhore, Lit with the funlight of thy face For evermore ! 41 SONGS OF THE NIGHT. No. I. THE furilit hours are paft and gone. The world is hufhed in fleep, 'Tis I alone, the fleeplefs one, My night-long vigils keep : Watching for one who never comes In anfwer to my prayer, But fighting ftill with faithful heart The demon of defpair. O love ! if in my walcing hours Thou canft not come to me. If watching ever day by day Thy face I may not fee, Give me in dreams one long, laft look And kifs me but once more, Then life has nothing left for me. And death may clofe my door. 42 Songs of the Night. No. II. Midnight ! the darkeft hour of all the night ! The fands indeed have run — the day is dead : But in that death is born a morrow's light That from thefe fhades fhall lift its golden head. Yea, prefently A dawn fliall rife, dear love, for you and me. Midnight ! and our fad hearts could well defpair. What hope is ours in thefe dull hours of pain ? Simply that when things feem too hard to bear Fate holds its hand and Fortune fmiles again. Yea, verily The wheel fliall turn, dear love, for you and me. Midnight ! — Alas ! the hours of love have fled, And from its afhes love can never rife : His days alone, once numbered with the dead, Can wake no more upon our weeping eyes. Yea, it muft be. Love's midnight ours, dear love, eternally ! 4: TWO ROSES AND A LILT. TWO rofes and a lily fair • For love and fpotlefe purity — A breath of fweetnefs on the air — A flood of memory ! See ! one rofe droops, its bright bloom pafl:, And hangs its head that foon muft die — 'T would feem that love can never laft In twofold fympathy. O lily, feed with thy fweet breath That other rofe that clings to thee, For, clofe-entwined, there is no death For love and purity. 44 IN COFENT q^ARDEN ^MARKET. ACROSS and bouquet of fair white flowers Lying fide by fide. One for a young life's fun-lit hours And one for eventide. One for the gleam of love's glad dawn, Firfl: felt — half unconfelTed, And one for the heart fo fad, fo worn. That finds at length its refl. O fymbols fair of life and death. When all that is is paft, May we whofe lives are a living death Find life in death at laft ! 45 THREE BURDENS. THE burden of life — Hours of pain, Strong ftruggles for vidlories vain, Dull doom of duft to duft again — A fhip of infecurity On ftormy fea. The burden of love — A bright morn That looks its loveliefl: at its dawn, — Ah ! better had it ne'er been born ! For foon drive mifts of mifery O'er darkened fea. The burden of Chrift — Blinding tears, A longing and love through long years, A faith that is death to all fears — Then glorious eternity Of Golden Sea. 46 'THE EFENINg BRINGS ALL HOME: ' ' I ""HE evening brings all home ? ' — Ah me ! ■*■ We have toiled the live-long day, And tired hearts, I ween, have we And fcarcely ftrength to pray. See where our bruifed and bleeding feet Have left their tracks behind — Ah ! fteep the hill to the haven fweet And hard that houfe to find ! Home ! Home ! in the eventide ! Seek ye the door ! Home ! Home ! and there abide For evermore ! ' The evening brings all home ! ' — Behold ! The fun has all but fet — We knock at the door in the cruel cold But there comes no anfwer yet. ' Tihe Evening brings all Home.^ 47 Are there none in the houfe to hear our cry ? Has the toil' been all in vain ? Is it here at the door that we muft die In hopelefs, helplefs pain ? Home ! Home ! in the eventide ! Swings back the door ! Home ! Home ! fafe ! , fide by fide ! For evermore ! Though this is Heaven's decree, That fteeped in pain and parted Our lives muft ever be. Through all the void and cruel night Remember me ! — Love ! it is hard to fay — Finifhed — the love-lit years ! As we ftand at the dear divided w^ay In a tender mift of tears. — O my beloved. My life belongs to thee. My foul is but the temple Of thy dear memory, And from its fhrine I breathe the prayer- Remember me ! — 78 Remember fSHe ! Kifs me once more — we part — Once more — then it muft be — Farewell ! — and a cry from heart to heart - My love ! remember me ! 79 FAR