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Libris

OGDEN

THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES

O-^-^

*'

'I /

<^

riore Violets
Thoughts on Nature

Child's

in

Verse and Prose

Violet

1*1.

Firth

3uthor of
"Violets"

^
SECOND EDITION

London
and
11,
:

10

\^All

iJarroId
:

and Sons

Warwick

Lane,

Rights Reserved'^

E.C

NoTK.

Tnc

whole of the following poems and

essays

(with

the

poem)

were

written

exception

of a

portion

age

the

at

of

of

the

fourteen

last

the

prose being written as school essays.

"

These poems

hope that
stranger

are

offered

to

to

whom

the

those

may some day become

The above was

first

book,

by the

the

and

the

Its

public

author

in

the

now

is

her friends."

inscription

"VIOLETS."

public

the

on the Author's

generous acceptance

kindly criticisms

Press have emboldened her to hope that

"

of

the

MORE

VIOLETS"

will
meet with the same kindness
and be the means of bringing her many loving

thoughts from her unknown friends

an unseen

bond

of

friendship

for

between

there
all

lovers of Nature.

VIOLET
111.

1^26076

M.

is

true

FIRTH.

CONTENTS
TO THE CLOUD

TO THE WAVE

MYSELF
TITANIA

....
....
....
-

NIGHT ON THE HILLS

TO AUTUMN

THE BELL-BUOYS

(A

BEFORE HARVEST

DREAMLAND
A SONG

DUET)

lO

.....
-

THE MARSH AT NIGHTFALL

THE IDEALISTS

iv.

j^

-16
ig
-

22

24
-

20
21

THE INCOMING TIDE AT EVEN

THE RIVER OF LIFE

.3

PAGE
.

THE RETURN OF THE SWALLOWS

THE FOG

25

26

CONTEPSTS,

THE HEADLAND OVER THE SEA

WHITE HORSES
BECALMED

LINES TO A FRIEND

COUNTRY WALK

SPRING

AUTUMN

IN

A STORY OF VILLAGE LIFE

TOWN AND COUNTRY

A STORY OF FARM LIFE

4O
-

49

58

.54
61

65

68

32

j6

"37

...
...
-

THE WANDERING SINGER

2."]

30

....

MORNING HYMN

BIRDS

THE SEA-SHORE

Jl

SONNETS TO NATURE
TRIAD.)

(A

TO THE CLOUD,
Swift cloud, that coursest o'er the sky at eve,

When
As

gazing on thy

thou, and

all

flight,

long to be

weight of earth to leave.

this

And wing the air as beautiful and free

And pass the portals of the star-lit night,

Those mighty gates that only angels know

gorgeous gloom, what hidden fires light
That land of shade, with

ceaseless golden glow

O cloud, no mortal man may see

Those awful gates but only let me fly,

Alas

And

follow on the west wind's wings with thee,

Into the glory of the sunset sky.

"O
1

child," replied the cloud, ''thy life

fly

amid the

stars,

but find no

is

best;

rest."

July, 1905.

II.

TO THE WAVE.
Fierce wave, that beatest on some iron shore,

might

might

And
rise

join

my

voice unto thy cries,

hear the thunders of thy roar,

rage

in

foam

with

thee

when

tempests

And toss my snowy mane, like warhorse proud,

And run the race in from the open sea
To hear the anthem of the waters loud,
And join thy brethren and play with thee
To hold within the hollow of my hand,
To keep or spare a thousand human lives.
To dash their ships in fragments on the strand,
;

Or
"

Oh

give
!

"

them

sighed

safe to children

the

wave,

"

my

and to wives.
strength

is

dearly

bought
Since

first

man

was,

only woe have wrought."

July, 1905.

Ill

nysELF.
The

wild desire is past, and now I know

That in the sphere God placed me I am best,
For cloud in heaven above, and wave below,

Ne'er taste the calm, the blessedness of rest

But
I

in

my

humbler

sing of

And watch
Pouring

all

the gifts

my

life

the things

know
I

of peace,

love to see,

God granted me

heart out in

Telling the wonders of each

my
hill

increase,

melody;
and wood.

And all the fairest things the fields unfold,

To those who seek in them the pure and good.
And love them for the beauties that they hold
O may I sing their praises true and long,
Bound

to their friends

by daisy-chains of song.
July, 1905.

TITAINIA.

In water-lily coracle the

That bore the lovely

little

fairy

rowers plied,

queen upon the foam-

flecked tide,

Amid

the silver water-breaks they drew her to the

side.

The bearded

rushes

bowed

their

heads before the

lady queen,

As from
daisied

In

all

was

stepped

upon

the

wood and water world no

fairer

fay

her

floral

green

the

boat

she

seen.

She passed beside the moor-hen's

nest,

and reached

the sheltering trees.

While

all

the

woodland choristers sang

sweetest

melodies,
Afar,

anear,

their

voices

breeze.

came upon

the scented

The wrens had

built a throne for her

amid some

silvern dell,

Where through
sunlight

And

as the

the

the leafy trellis-work the checkered

fell,

wind

its

blossom smote, there chimed

frail harebell.

Our lady of the woodlands is truly wondrous fair,

The dewdrops are the diamonds that twinkle in
her hair,

The

spiders

toil

both day and night to weave her

kirtles rare.

The

squirrels bring their

fur to

her from

many

leafy hold,

The dancing sunbeams

at her

feet

lay

down

their

molten gold.

And

to

her court

rich tribute comes,

from every

weald and wold.

Hail to the lovely fairy queen, long

may

she keep

her power.

Who

rules the world

with

one slight hand, from

honey-suckled bower.

Who,

living midst the flowery ways,

is

fairer

than

a flower.
May^
5

1905.

NIGHT ON THE HILL5.

The night came down, and all the hills have slept,
The dark has followed on the skirts of day
;

Down

river

some valley, low and far away,

lifted up its voice and wept.
in

For days and hours and years the

Their ward of

all

hills

have kept

the lands that round

them

lay,

Old guardians of the country, gaunt and grey.

Up

whose seamed sides the sullen pine-trees crept

And

then they stopped, they could no farther go

Affrighted and repulsed by the cold gaze

Of these first children of the elder days,

They pause irresolute, and look below
Where,

in the valley, filled

with eddying haze,

Their comrades of the forest peaceful grow,

Round whose mossed

And

lady-ferns

roots the early violets blow,

wave by the woodland ways.

But they with

all

the winds that ever

rise,

Must battle on the mountains cold and bare,

While in the west some angry sunset's flare
up the low and sullen skies

Is lighting

And

all

around the frightened hill-mist

flies,

Seeming like some wild woman's streaming

While overhead the spirits of the air
Moan, and chill tears fall from their mournful

And

hair

eyes.

heavens the storm-birds wheel their

in the

flight,

Plying on ceaseless wing through riven cloud.

Like

evil

demons

in a sable

shroud

Escaping from the regions of the night,

Chasing afar the angels robed
Till,

By One
They

in white,

pausing suddenly aghast and cowed,

fall,

to

whom

struck

in fear

each head

is

by a beam of heavenly

bowed.
light.

Tidy^ 1905.

TO AUTUniN
Fair Autumn's days are hazy, soft and

Her woods

are red and yellow,

mellow ripeness ever seems

The golden
She

When

is

chalice of the

not sad, and yet

it

to

still,

brown or

sere,

fill

waning year
seemeth drear
;

on the meadow-stubble, moor, and

hill,

Red Autumn lieth on her brown-draped bier

O Autumn, Autumn, thou art very dear.
Leave me

Her

not,

Autumn,

spirit lives,

When balmy

and

yet.

will

Spring her

Ah, but

blending

in

know

incarnate be

silver

horn doth blow

Setting the frost-bound earth at liberty

And

her boundless melody

The whispering of the ransomed brooks that low

Under dead Winter's ice did mournfully
Sing muffled dirges, longing to be

free.

Nay, Autumn is not dead, and never dies,

Although her drying seed-husks hang forlorn,
Where Summer's children once their lustrous eyes
Turned to the sun from field and clustered
thorn

Autumn's
Till in

morn

her birds sang anthems to the

And where
last

seed doth

fall,

Spring's sunshine

And change

it

and

falling, lies

shall be reborn,

through bud and ear to

the

full

corn.

Farewell, sweet
I

Autumn, though thy joys be

love thee better than thy sisters fair

Thine

is

the fulness of the garnered sheaf.

Thine the

A
Thou

brief,

soft

mellowness of light and

peaceful rest after hot

bring'st

to

summer's

drooping

hearts

air

glare,

and

flowers

relief

Autumn, adieu, and when Spring's trumpets

Though thou wert dead, thy spirit will be

blare.

there.

THE BELL=5UOy5.

Duet.

THE CALn.
I

walked one day at

And

falling of the leaf,

watched the grey waves sweeping up the

shore,

And
The

heard a sound

oft

had heard

bell-buoys calling o'er the sunken

before,
reef.

THE 50N0 OF THE BUO/S.

Both Buoys.

Since

first

the

priest

christened

us,

singing at eve,

And

anchored us

here

where the seas swell and

heave,

Where

the seas swell

and heave on the back of

the shoal,

We

have clanged out a prayer

soul.

lO

for

the

seafarer's

When

spring

And
And

tides

back and the brown reef

roll

bare,

lies

the sea-gulls are calling their mates in the

waves slowly that

the sea-weed

air,

hangs from

our sides,

We

First Buoy.

And
And

own song

chant our

Brother,

my

strain at
I

to the outgoing tides.

but a short mile away.

lie

rope o*er the banks in the bay.

hear thy loud

voice

as

calls

it

wild

and

free,

warning to those that are out on the

Second Buoy.

Brother,

call,

and

the

sea.

sea-gull

replies,

Mocking

And

my

voice with his shrill sounding cries

the ships that go past to the harbour near by.

Steer a safe course

First Buoy.

Second Buoy.
Both Buoys.

"

by

Brother,
"

my
I

Brother,

"There's a

resonant cry.

answer."
call."

God up

rules over all."

II

in

Heaven who

PART

THE
Again

And

walked

heard

2.

5TORri.

at closing of the day,

the

waves

that

deafen

with

their

roar,

And watched them gnawing

at

the

shrinking

shore.

And saw

the signal lights across the bay.

The bursting rockets showed in sharp relief.

The broken spars and shattered decks waveswept.

And

angry white-maned torrents as they

Forcing a ship upon the waiting

heard the awakening bustle

And saw

the signals

in

leapt,

reef.

the town,

answering her despair.

The stormy sea-mews circled in the air.

then I saw the doomed ship go down.

And

12

still,

dark form upon the shore wave-swept,

form

white-lipped

waves

have

silent face to

Only remains

angry

the

spurned

Heaven above upturned,

to those

who watched and

wept.

ever hungry reef and cruel sea,

Who

sparest not in taking thy sad

Ring thou the

slumbering

toll,

bell-buoys

for

the

soul,

Of one who

And

still

passes to Eternity.

the bell-buoys call across the bay,

Call from the reef

"

Say thou

and answer from the

on thy way."

stranger, ere thou goest

First Buoy.

Second Buoy.

Both Buoys.

shoal,

a prayer for the departed soul,

"

Brother,
"
"

Brother,

There's a

answer."
call."

God up

rules over all."

13

in

Heaven who

BEFORE HARVEST.
The land is bright with
The woods are leafy,

flowers and grain,

dim, and cool

Beside the reed-engirdled pool,

Slants

down

the silent, shadowed lane.

come down to drink.

And crushing down the scented reed,
They move amidst the water weed,
And stand and wonder on the brink.

The

cattle here

And when
Here

in

summer burns

in the shallows will

the day,

they wade,

And seek to find the deepest shade.

And watch the flickering sunlight play.

14

The swifts and swallows hunt and hawk

The dragon-flies on gauzy wing
Beat the

Or

fill

still air

the air with

the blackbirds sing,

murmuring

talk.

The lizard basks upon the wall,

The golden finches in the corn
Chatter and praise the lovely morn,

And

wish the leaves might never

How

can they

These

little

tell,

how

fall.

should they know.

dwellers in the grain,

The sun but

The leaves but

sets to rise again,

fall

that

more may grow ?

May^

15

1 905*

DREAP1L3ND,
In the silent

isles

of day,

Heavenly peace dwells

all

unseen,

Turquoise waters lap the bay.

All the

woods are emerald

Perfect beauty

is

green.

supreme,

Sweetly sings the hidden

bird,

Living here seems like a dream,

Everything

is felt,

not heard.

Forms of wondrous beauty move

Silent as the

Harmony

shadows

fly,

reigns here with love,

Ever as the days go by.

Misty mountain-tops of blue,

Glow
**

in

grandeur

far

away

All things are untrue, yet true,"

Soundless voices seem to say.

i6


Flitting

shadows come and go

Passing through the woodland

Formless shadows, yet

know

Fellow minds are dwelling

Then

left

fair,

there.

the sunlit shore,

Sought the filmy woodland's hold,

in the gloom before,

Searching

For the
In

its

All

dim

secrets

it

must

hold.

recesses hide

fair things,

and wild

Glimmering phantoms seem

Round about me

And

saw one

as

fair,

to glide,

everywhere.

like a god.

Moving through the thickest wood.

And I bowed me to the sod
And in mute amazement stood

And

a voice spake soft and low,

Coming like a breath of air

Ye who venture here would know
:

"

What

this island

17

is,

and where

"
?

" 'Tis

an island of the

blest,

Where the prisoner is

Where the weary are at
And the bound know

" In

the

still

and

free,

rest,

liberty.

living air.

In the green and silent wood,

Souls gain strength their woes to bear,

Evil hearts are turned to good.

"

Here the

And

bitter present's left,

the sweet past lives once more,

Friends of

whom we

Live upon

"

are bereft,

this sacred shore.

Here then come ye

in

your

rest.

When your dreams are calm and

To the Islands of the Blest,

deep,

In the silent sea of Sleep."

January^ iQOS*

l8

3 5OIN0.
A

rose once

bloomed

in

a garden rare,

And a beautiful rose was she,

And none of her mates on the rose-trees
Were

And
Of

half so

to

fair

there.

see.

the rose grew proud and the rose grew

her beauty day

by day,

And the gardener saw and

And at eve he took her
Next morn she bloomed

And

vain,

gave him pain,

it

away.

in

that

garden

her mates were astonished

to

too.

see

That she wore a coat of a wondrous hue,

And marvelled what it might be,
For curling

tendrils

Her snow-white

And

her

proud

of richest

leaves

little

Like a golden eye

That heart

And

she

is

did

heart

green
hide.

could just be seen,

inside.

no longer proud but low.

sits

in

a humbler

pose,

But none of the flowers that ever

Can compare with the

little

will

blow.

moss-rose.
January^ 1905,

19

THE RETURN OF THE 5W3LLOW5.

Oh, beautiful heralds that bring in the summer,
Who voyage o'er oceans on glossy black wing.
Who leave the great deserts of Cacti and Yucca,

To

cross to our isles in the last days of spring.

Ye spent the long winter beside an oasis.

And watched the low sand-hills that shimmered
with heat,

And saw how

came down

the camels

to the water,

Pressing the sand with their broad padded feet

But

spring

is

advancing, their thoughts

turning

homeward,

They

forget the Sahara,

its

palm-trees and sand,

And travel together o'er mountain and forest,

And come with the sunshine to nest in our land.

And now

they are back

at

their

home

in

the

shippen,

And

are

skimming our

Oh, welcome

Who

fair

rivers

on

fleet flying

wing

voyagers from over the ocean,

cross to our isles in the last days of spring.

May,

20

1905.

THE FOQ
and moor,
And stretch across the upland bleak and lone
The endless billows breaking on the shore
Make low and muffled their unceasing moan.

The wreaths

The heavy
I

The

of fog

stillness

hang over

hill

deadens every sound,

hear the drip of moisture everywhere,

trees

bend down

their

leaves

towards

the

ground,

And
The

silent

Still

The

misty folds hang heavy

Sounds
But

lo,

woods no echo can

and unnoticed

treble

in

tinkling
as

it

dies

of the

the

the

air.

return,

autumn day,

little

burn

were a thousand miles away.

from off the sea a breath of

air

Drives back the hanging vapour damp and

Revealing to the gaze the woodland fair.
And all its myriad beauties I behold.

cold,

December^ 1904.

21

THE riABSH AT NIGHTFALL.

Down

sank the sun, the red has paled to grey,

The white mist rises from the marshy ground,

The radiance in the west has died away,
The water-course^ murmur all around.

They show as silver in the fading light.

The moon is shining from a burnished cloud.
The birds with folded wings await the night,
The wild marsh-mallow's golden head is bowed.

The

bog's chill breath

And hangs
The streams

are

rising

is

curling

in

cold

and dank.

wreaths upon the

each

fretting

its

air,

weed-draped

bank.

The

night

The rustling
The alders

And drop
And all

is

filled

with voices everywhere.

rushes catch the moon's pale gleam

shiver

their last

the

at the

night-wind's

breath,

few leaves upon the stream,

murmuring
22

voices whisper " Death."

But
It

The

lo,

in

soft

Breathe

And

yonder heaven a

looketh

so

down upon

star

this

shines

world of

bright,
strife,

airs

blowing from that orb of

in

the listening ear, and whisper

when

earthly voices

Raise up thine eyes and

say
see

"

light,
" Life."

Despair,"

the

light

above,

Where peace and joy are reigning everywhere,

Whose atmosphere is good, and Life is Love.
,

May,

1905.

;;

THE
In

TIDE 3T EVEN.

lINCOrilINO

the tide, the waves full-bosomed, hurling

rolls

Their spindrift to the winds as on they come

They

toss

their heads,

their

snowy

sea

manes

curling,

And
In

drench the sand with floods of yeasty foam.

rolls

The

the

and slowly, inch by

tide,

white-lipped

ripple

creepeth up the shore

their

creaming waters drench

rush the waves,

In

And drown

the

inch.

sea-mews'

voices

with

their

roar.

The daylight fades, the stars appear in sight,

The lighthouse signals danger from afar,
The waves show whitely in the coming night,
And murmur with low thunder on the bar.
The

distant

And

incoming from the

ships,

Steer by the

flashing

ever sounds

From which

the

this

light

to

sea.

gain their port

anthem bold and

simple

melody

is

free,

caught.

January, 1905.

24

THE

IDEALISTS.

it in vain that men must strive

Towards some goal they cannot gain
Nay, never was a sacrifice
Yet made for man that was in vain.

Ts

Brave men, who

for the multitude,

Strove in the dark of mental night,

They were the hidden ways whereby

The world was raised to fuller light.
They worked and
Upon the soil

died and
for

Kings thanked them

Was

We

let

left

their

which they

bones

strove.

reward

not, but their

silent misery's faithful love.

them work unhelped,

Their name

will ne'er in

alone,

poetry

live.

Yet hoarse work-roughened voices say,

" They gave us all they had to give."

Though fame is silent and their names

Were never traced on glory's scroll,
They have what man can ne'er bestow,
The glory of an upright soul.
June, 1905.

25

THE RIVER OP
Where

the great grey peaks for ever

Raise their heads

There

LIFE.

its

tov^^ards the sky,

fountain has the river,

Flowing onwards, pausing never,

Down

to

where the willows quiver

Onwards, downwards, solemn

Flowing through

So my life
Onwards

is

river.

eternity.

ever flowing,

to the sea,

Down to where the

And the snow-white
There

waves are roaring,

gull

is

soaring

at last its waters pouring,

Mingling

for eternity.

July, 1905.

26

; ;

THE HEADLAND OVER THE

A

range of mighty

hills

Their grey heads

And,

as

it

Its

hills

dying

What

the sky

fires

cared

wild melody

day declined,

rooks winged slowly by.

flight of

Behind the

own

its

as the winter

behind,

lifted to

passed, the storm-filled wind

Murmured

And

SEA.

the sun sank

down

flamed

and wild

fierce

for all Nature's

frown

was the sea and mountain's

child

loved the moorland heather brown

Better than

My

the valleys mild.

headland looked across the

And
They
I

all

oft

sea,

watched the ships afar

linger in

my memory

often think those

first

scenes are

The hands that mould and fashion me,

Whose work no passing years can mar.
27

About the cliff's I used to hear

The waves that sang their sad lament,
The wind took up the anthem drear
Chanting

music as he went

his

Their voices blended wild and

And

to

my

clear,

ears their pathos lent.

For only those who love and know

The singers, heed what they have sung,

Or hear it when the wind doth blow
The heather and the gorse among
The melodies that only flow
From harps that Nature's hand has strung.

Oh, might

^olian

Thy

voice

worthy be

still

my

in

Blent with the

The

gulls

to sing,

chorister, with thee.

upon

ears doth ring,

murmur

their

of the sea.

one sad string

Join in the mighty melody.

Oh, could

write that song of thine,

Translated to a

What tongue

can

human tone
make it so divine
28

As when

it

flovveth

from thine own

Into this Hstening ear of mine

Above

the weary billows'

Those voices

moan ?

and die away

rise

With sad decrease and grand upswell

When

heard towards the close of day

They seem
Alas

to

sound a mournful knell

no mortal voice can say

The

secret that the waters

But he who would

And
Must

know,

this secret

follow onwards ever higher,

listen

when

the wild winds blow

Across their old melodious

Till in his heart the

And

tell.

lyre,

embers glow,

burst into the heavenly

29

fire.

WHITE HORSES,
Wild white

horses,

who

race with the tempest,

Tossing your manes you come

in

with the

sea

Roar, for your thunders are paeans of greeting.

Ye

are as brothers and playmates to me.

When

blows

the

fierce

scud

'neath

the

cloud-

'cumbered heavens,

When

scream the wild

waves
I

ride

shore

like a sea-bird,

welcome the storm on the

to

When the sun sinks

When the waves
where

when loud the

roar,

on the wings of the wind

And come down

And

sea-gulls,

the spray

in glory of fire to seawards,

break

in

foam on the rocks

stand,
flies

in

showers of

Tossing the sea-weed

in piles

silver

around me.

on the sand.

I watched the wild waves in their frolic,

saw a ship drive through the fast fading light,

But once as
I

She

fled like

And

lo,

as

a ghost to the rocks by the headland,

I

watched

her, she vanished

30

from

sight.

"

And

waves listened

the

their

not,

went

but

on

with

gaming,

Their spray cut

my

face like the fast driving sleet,

But one mighty wave that came

in

from the head-

land,

Brought with

And

said

it

a life-belt to cast at

the

to

waves,

"

my

ye waves,

feet.

why

so

cruel?

Why

must

sway
But

the

ye

engulf that

one

ship

in

your

"
?

waves thundered

ever,

nor

my

heeded

pleading,

And

it

seemed that they laughed

in their terrible

play.

And

said, "

Were

once,

ye waves,

in

your

power,

Would ye

spare me, your playmate, because

we

have played
But the waves only answered with laughter and
?

roaring,

Though no words were

they

uttered,

knew what

said.

June, 1905.

31

BEC3LMED.
The night, serene and still, broods over
The myriad constellations overhead
Shine

As

like the lights of

all,

some far-distant port,

homing ship,

o'er the waters sails the

And

steers by them to gain her anchorage.

The nearer planets blaze with wondrous light,

And
And

further off the constellations glow,

farther yet, where never eye can

Another universe revolves again.

The

silent

dark hangs heavily on

is

Illimitable space

on every hand.

overhead.

zephyr moves the surface of the deep.

The long slow

Is

all,

of thought as well as sound

stillness reigns

Illimitable space

No

see.

swell,

by which the sea

is

stirred.

nothing but the echo of some storm

That raged perhaps a thousand miles away.

The lazy flapping

The creaking cords,

No

of the windless
the

murmur

sail,

of the sea.

other sound disturbs the stillness here,

The ocean

sleeps,

and everything
32

is

peace.

Beneath the

and

surface, lights play to

fro,

Pale gleams of phosphorescence glow and fade,

And flash from out the caverns of the

As fish move past all clad in robes of

glowing, bright, yet unconsuming flame.

But

The
The

lo,

the sky

is

paling in the east,

velvet blackness softens into grey,

stars

Their

no more

fires fade,

The heavens

deep,
light,

like

lambent jewels gleam.

and

in the

flush,

and

dawning

die.

in the east there

breaks

flood of colours, harbingers of day,

The
The

And

clouds are

all

suffused with

wondrous

tints,

colours of the rainbow glow and change,

fade and die, to glow and fade again.

Then deeper richer hues o'erspread the

As when the music in some harmony

sky,

Swells to crescendo, so the colours change.

The

And

silent sea reflects the

mirrors in

its

wondrous

tints,

face another world,

Scarcely less lovely than the one above.

And now

along the

far horizon's

edge,

Beneath the varying colours of the sky,

thread of light

The God supreme

is

drawn, the Sun

is

come.

returns to rule His realms,

33

the pale regent moon,

who through

The sceptre held, resigns it

The brilliant rim of gold

to the king.

And

Till

there above the eastern

widening

fast,

marge appears

glowing orb, the Giver of the Day.

The sea,
Each catch
Receive,

As

is

the night

to

the sky, and

the world of

air.

beams of glory from their Lord,

fling them back again,
climax swells the dawn of day
the

reflect,

its

all

and

Born from the darkness of the tropic night,

And driving back the gloom, as radiant hope
Dispels the clouds of fear from

human

minds,

Or knowledge of the Truth illuminates

The dark obscurities of blind belief.
The surface of the sea, one silent lake.
Mirrors, with deep intensity, the sky

Above, the wide far-arching dome of heaven.

Glows with unchanging sapphire's glorious hue,

Save where the great eye of the newborn day,
Paints

gold, with ardent glance, the heavenly blue

And human
Unable

eyes must turn

for the

moment

Their mortal gaze

But

lo,

to

in that

away abashed.
sustain

immortal

light.

from out the brilliance to the south,

34

far off

Dark

speck appears, without a form,

'gainst the light,

suspended in the air;

watch with straining eyes that sign of life,

And

see it grow, until at length there sails

lovely bird, from out the distant blue;

It hovers near the ship on unmoved

wings.
Curious, yet wary from the long abuse
Of its too trustful confidence in man.

Child of the heavens, wanderer of the

Dropt

down

to

grace

the

earth

air,

from

space

unknown,

To

fall on snowy pinions half unfurled.

Ruffling the glassy surface with thy breast,

Taking thy lawful

That teems with

toll

from the rich

life,

gaining

sea.

therewith

new

strength,

To

upwards with supreme delight

circle

The joy

of living throbbing in

thy

wings

And

soaring fade, lost to man's envious gaze

Passing from sight, as thoughts pass from the
:

mind,

Losing themselves

Or dreams of

in

fancy's misty realms.

night, pass with the

35

waking day.

MORNING H/MN,
Father Divine, to Thee
This morning

hymn

raise

of joy and praise,

my

Love, perfect Love,

heart has kept,

While darkness reigned and nature

slept.

Now morn

has kissed the hill-tops grey,

And Love

will

keep

Joy, perfect joy, this

Safe

in

the

me

through the day.

day

mine,

is

arms of Love Divine,

raise my hymn to God above,

Of peace and joy and Light and Love.

In everything
I

know

that

see

and

hear,

God Himself

In perfect Love

ever

is

near,

rest,

For Good can only do the best.

And Love the only power shall reign

Where no more weeping

is

or pain.
Julys 1905'

36

LINES TO 3 FRIEND.

Let those who never knew of friendship say

That friends will sever as the heart grows old
But one thing only do I know and hold,
While life remains, love passeth not away

And
And

trees that

Now

to the sky raise leafless

though our spring wane to the year's decay,

made ambrosial

all

the

air,

arms and

bare,

Their hidden buds await another May.

Yet when

And
I

leave

all

that

now hold

fair,

seek the unexplored lands beyond,

my chord will respond,

unseen, my friend will greet me

know a chord

And though

to

37

there.

II.

For theologians be the war of tongue

'Gainst tongue, though thou

and I

may

not agree,

The question lies between my God and me

And who shall say if thou or I be wrong ?
But when we stand amid the angel throng.
Where reigns the Lamb upon the Heavenly throne,
We know at last the name writ on the stone,
The Truth for which we sought and prayed so long.
;

For unto

me

the problem

lies alone.

And

unto thee what way we

Yet comes the day when we

The

fruit

of

all

the seed that

38

shall believe
shall

both receive

we have sown.

III.

The

sages dwelling in the glorious East,

Who

taught with

Hold

that in

many a sign their ancient lore,

many lives that went before
man dwelt in the form of beast,

Who now is
Who is the greatest was perchance
We reap in after lives the seed we

the least.
sow.

upwards from the things below

reach the sphere where toil at last has ceased.-

Till rising

We

And

so I

mused

if

thou and I had met,

In other forms and under other

skies,

And

in that life

had learnt with wondering eyes

The

love which

now we never can

forget.

November, 1905.

39

THE WAINDERING 5INQEB.

CANTO

I.

Song.

Wandering, wandering on ever more,

Wandering

Where

lone,

the waves break in foam on the long, level

shore,

And

I,

when

I arise

When
The

never

like the waves, rest

calls the

night

the birds from their covert are flown.

grey plover.

comes

at last, her fires

All the low, glowing

West

make

red

then the heath

is

my

bed.

And

the

me

And

I,

soft-breathing night-winds

their

shed.
in

my

dreams, wander on.

wanderer, an outcast,

It

was not always so

now I
know
40

stray

not why,

dews on

I think

is

it

some

fever in

my

blood,

mad impulse that brooks no delay.

But from all human pathways bids me fly

Some

wild,

Into some virginal, untrodden wood,

And

therein

dream with Nature sweet and wild.

hand

Perfect and chaste, as from her Maker's

She

first

lay fair beneath the youthful sun,

Ere by the works of man she was

And mankind

The

And
But

human works

am

but one.

are fleeting, nor endure.

vast cathedral crumbles into dust.

mingles with the dust of him

here, in Nature, every

Perfect and undefiled

The
The

even, are but grains of sand,

Drifting and shifting, and I

All

defiled

streamlet, in

rocks

that

its

work

is

who

by human lust
worn to

path, has

stood

since

first

built

pure.

the

silt

world

was

made,

Yet every grain some day will Nature use,

For Nature, like some mechanician skilled,

Has with the fragments firm foundation laid,

Which some far-distant fires shall re-fuse
Into firm rock, wherewith new worlds to build.
Grand are the works of man, but grander
41

far

The works

of

God

who can

the two compare

Man works in years, God in eternity:

When this vast world was but a seething

star,

Before the fountains or the forests were,

He

fashioned, moulded, planned the world to

Should not the study of this vast design

be.

Be but a stairway to its Maker's throne?

Herein we see the pure, unsullied plan,
And can we say, "This work is mine or thine"?

Man

of himself can nothing

do alone
Without a God there could not be a man.
But I love Nature for her own fair sake,
And since the day I cast my books aside.
And wandered forth, her soul has in me grown
I

hear her voice by mountain and by lake.

In whispering woods, and

I

wander

still,

rejoicing

by the ocean wide

and

CANTO

alone.
2.

Song,

Arise, arise, the winds are all awake,

And
They

blowing

drive in ripples the

And

drift to

42

free

still

dreaming

me.

lake,

The

fragrance of the

pines

From
They chant

Last night I

woke

and low,

tree to tree.

me down among the brush

still, I travelled in my dreams

laid

wanderer
I

their lyric songs soft, soft

From

which they blow,

o*er

off the sea

dark hour before the morn.

in that

In that dark hour within whose solemn hush,

Before the

first

They say
Is

it

faint light of

the old

men

die,

dawning gleams,
the

new

are

born.

not typical, this hour dark,

When sounds are hushed, and Nature bows her head

And the night vibrates like a string o'erdrawn,
That we should then on that dread sea embark,

Upon

And

the ebbless ocean of the dead,

sail

from out the darkness to the dawn

The sick
They know

that, sleepless,

watch on beds of pain,

this tense vibration of the night

Before the long blank windows glimmer grey:

Now

in the

But,

lo,

wood,

hear

it

yet again

across the east, a veil of light

Prophet of dawning, prophesying day.

43

CANTO

3.

Song.

All glory to

God

For the night

Thou, Dawn,

And
The

is

now

far

up the heavens

light

for the

after the

spent

dark sky

o'er the

rose with the azure

Awake,

And

in the highest,

dawn

is

is

is

fliest,

blent

creeping.

nigh,

night of weeping

The day-spring comes from on

saw the

first

high.

upon the sky,

faint light

In the low sky where air and ocean meet

I

saw the grey and white, and then the

The

heralds

who proclaim

While yet he
Unwilling

is

nigh,

lingers with reluctant feet.

his glories to disclose.

That summer morn, as in an Eastern court,

saw the pomp and circumstance of Day,

When,
I

all

the day

rose,

as a king, he rode through his

breathed the heavy

And

air

domain

with incense fraught,

heard the trumpet notes from

44

far

away

"

That summon earth to wake from sleep again.

First came a grey-robed pilgrim to our vale,
Who said, " I heard the trumpets of the King
Awake, and hang with festive boughs your eaves,
And spread his path with roses red and pale,

And

from your various stores your tribute bring,

Bring from your looms the

silks,

from

fields

the

sheaves."

We

made

roused and

us ready

and behold,

herald of the king, in glad array,

On

a brave horse the pilgrim's footsteps trode.

Wearing the

livery of rose

and gold,

The colours of the sovereign of the day

So came the herald down the sylvan road.

He

passed

and from the east appears a

train

Who

the pavilions of their master bore,

And

carpets spread that he might tread thereon.

A silver peal of trumpets,

We knelt upon the ground,
"Look,

Sun

Upon

brothers,

the

heads bowed
East,

he

in

awe

comes,

the

the air rang out the morning

Rising and

The

look,

and again

falling,

breezes stirred

echoing the
;

hymn

strain.

the banners royal unfurled,

45

The dazzling splendour made our vision dim,

The King appeared before our eyes again
In his triumphal

march around the world.

CANTO

4.

Song.

Roses awake, and greet the day

Unspread each petal pale

See

the eastern sky

is

growing grey,

And down the vale

The morning winds move

soft

from

far

away

Oh, hear the message that the breezes say

As they
" Lilies

the morning hail

awake, roses

arise.

Your virgin petals are begemmed with dew

The light, the rosy light is in the eastern skies.
And all the golden bees are seeking you
;

Oh, fragrant

petals,

which

in

slumber

Unfurl your clinging tenderness

unfurl."

46

curl.

oh, flowerets fair,

So passed

And

the sun across the morning skies,

the sylvan

all

life

arose anew,

Waking from dreams to make the world more

The jasmine to the light turns starry eyes,
The yellow kingcup shakes his scented dew.

fair

And golden gorse arrays the hillside bare.

Adown the woodland aisles the sunbeams went,
And passing, touched the trees with radiant wands,
Lighting their hoary trunks with lichen hung

And

where the ferns above the streamlet bent,

They

struck the jewelled

To whose

fire

from the fronds

fringed edges pearly dewdrops clung.

Fair orbed dewdrops in whose liquid spheres

The sunlight breaks with gold and purple sheen,

Who, as I watch you, tremble to your fall
Some say that you are sorrowing angels' tears,
But, in your radiance

You seem
List

is

no sadness seen,

a benediction on us

the low breezes

down

all.

the forest glide,

The fern fronds tremble and the dewdrops quiver.

They trickle down the leaflets and are gone
Only the

And

silver circles

growing wide,

borne along the stream towards the

Remain

to

tell

dewdrop
47

fell

thereon.

river,

Song.

Wanderer, wanderer, what haven

I
I

thou seeking

love to hear the voice of Nature speaking

Through

all

And when I
And pause
I

art

seek for none

still

the mighty works that she has done

reach the summit

desire.

for breath,

shall see the ranges

Beyond the gates

mounting higher

of death.

48

THE 5EA=5HORE.
"

saw the long

line of the

vacant shore,

The sea-weed and the shells upon the sand,

And the brown rocks left bare on every hand,
As

if

the ebbing tide would flow no more."

Longfellow.

Nearly

all

my

life

have

lived

and there were few days when

see

it

in

its

various

by the

did

sea,

not go to

moods of calm and

storm,

sunshine or gloom.

There are few things

their

in

Nature which change

aspect as a rocky coast does;

be comparatively calm, but

if

the

may

the day

sun

is

hidden

for a few moments behind a cloud, the sea will

become grey and sombre and the rocks gloomy
and desolate.
But in the sunshine everything is changed.

Perhaps

there

has

been

49

storm

the

night

and

before,

waves

the

shore

tossing

crests,

to

the

The

previous

may
in

be seen

storm

night's

from

sea-weed

the

mass

wet

rocks,

the

strewing

to

be

fronds

be dragged back by the

much

torn

giant

the

fuci

up

or caught

beach,

the

dark

of

has

and

rocks,

some oncoming wave,

tumbled

white

cloud of spray which

air

the

their

sunshine like a rain of diamonds.

the

in

towards

from

on

break with a roar

sending up into the

glistens

advance

spendrift

by

left

and

undertow

it

in

ribbons,

of

the

a
to

next

roller.

Numbers

of

unfortunate

shell-fish

crawling

are

slowly and laboriously on the sand and endeavouring

to gain a place of safety

on some rock

they have

been torn from their hold by the violence of the

waves, and

many

of them have had

their

conical

spires broken, so they are in a sad plight, for the

know well that there will be victims after the

o
storm, and are busy turning over the wrack and
o-ulls

sea-weed
culse that

If

the

in search of the

sought refuge
winter

not be absent,

is

but

myriads of small animalin their fronds.

hard

will

50

be

one,

the

parading

rooks
the

will

shore

such a solemn and dignified

with

that

air

is

it

hard to accuse such apparently respectable birds

of being scavengers

The

and cannibals.

precautions

getting

rooks

these

wet

are

too

not accustomed to

this

their

feet

they

are

gulls

(who seem oblivious

have

wholesome

take

work

wet

to

or

cramp

dread of

against

laughable,

for

like

the

cold),

but

and

chilled

feet.

On
land,

summer's

calm

receding,

the

when the

day,

tide

form a veritable

pools

rock

where ogres and gnomes dwell

abundance.

in

The

Let us inspect one of these wonder-worlds.

brown rock

overhangs a

which

of

recesses

waiting for their

little

crabs

prey,

great

in

and

all

the

small

hard

spread

feelers

wish

nerves

have
crabs'

its

it

of
in

no harm,
(if it

it

hearing,

ignorant
is

folly

the creatures

have

and
bliss,

for

curiosity

quiet

for

overcomes
51

few

their

who

continues

it

and

its

After we

moments,
fear,

is

to

we

as

to harass

has any) by being wiser.

remained

sit

dark

in

vanished into safety except the anemone,

somewhat

dark

''robbers

like

At our approach

defile."

pool,

is

fairy-

and

the

they

come Scrambling over the stones

where they

of vantage,

until

them

part causes

much study

that

certain

naturalist

closely

resemble

one

enter

that ornament the dark rock

flowers

it

they were once

was

the

mistake

was

tells

us

that

these

flowers,

that

a bee

of

search

in

statement as this

that

and

vegetables,

as

classified

and

stalked
us,

vanish with surprising celerity.

The sea-anemones
look so much like

to

examine

movement on our

slight

to

all

some point

to

their strange,

side to side as they

eyes from

some

roll

honey

should take

only

after

rectified.

creatures

once
but

so

tried

such

cum grano

salts,

should like to ask the learned gentleman

what the bee was doing on the sea-shore

The

sea-gulls

conspicuous

part

are

not the least ornamental or

of

landscape

the

they

float

then,
without any
motionless, and
swoop down to the surface of the water,
catch a fish and swallow it, and then rise again
I
without any visible movement of the wings.

apparently

effort,

do

not

believe

been able
glass,

but

to

there

detect

any,

is

even

it

how they do

it

52

for

have

through an

never
opera-

remains a mystery.

The
and
again

which
shall

has

sea

fade

from

their
will

give

fate

many

secrets,

sight,

and

is

written

perhaps

be

are
in

opened

ships

never
a

sail

sealed

"when

away

heard

the

of

book,
sea

up her dead."
zist March, 1905.

53

BIRDS.

Do you ne'er think what won'rous beings these ?

Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught
The dialect they speak, where melodies

"

Alone are the interpreters of thought?

Whose household words

are songs in

Sweeter than instruments of

man

many

keys

e'er caught,

Whose

habitations in the tree-tops even

Are half-way houses on the road to Heaven.

The

birds

who make sweet music

for us all

In our dark hours, as David did for Saul.

Longfellow.

In

that, in

were
apart.

upon

the

the

eyes

it

that

all

face

the
of

it

the

of

the

forms,

are

54

and

fact

they

history,

creatures

earth,

birds.

their

was hard to

living

earth, there

as

many

are

hard to believe the

is

stage

earliest

Of

under the
our

that

similar

so

Nature

realm of

the wide

so diversified

in

tell

that

the

them
dwell

waters

none so beautiful

The world

would

to

be

of them, says

speaking

Longfellow,

them.

without

incomplete

" Poets of

a Golden Age,

Heirs of a boundless heritage,

Of

the

If

sunshine of long summer's days."

use

sole

Tennyson speaks
"

of

would

they

pleasure

and orchards, east and west,

fields

And

to

in

was

which

their

fruitful

us
hire.

ground,

warble, eat, and dwell."

the

return

give

to

blackbird, saying

keep smooth plats of

received

chorister,

worthy of

be
the

Where thou may'st

He

was

birds

song of the feathered

sweeter

than

the

pilfered

cherries.

What

the country would

we cannot
could

not

tell

exist

some
for

be like without birds

scientist

more

says

than

that

nine

without them, for at the end of that time

"

Hosts of devouring insects crawled and found

No

foe to check their march,

The land

till

they had

a desert without leaf or shade."

55

we

years

made


Then

that

how

the

brought

their

by destroying

tell

us

punishment

on

choristers

as

God's

"

Devoured by worms,

like

Because, like Herod,

it

Slaughtered

Herod, was the town,

had ruthlessly

Innocents."

its

There are few sweeter

the

that

snow has

on

red-wing

plaintive

witness

some

and

ponds

the

some

lawn,

the

starved

crumbs are

coming

lies

out

the

to

morning, a

and

stiff

bird

heavy

hard with

are

bitter

witness

to

prepared for their benefit.

is

fallen,

when,

than

sights

pensioners

feathered

table

ice,

the sorrows

Killingworth goes on to

farmers

themselves
pests

of

of

chronicle

delightful

of the Birds

cold,

So some
thrown down
half a cocoa-nut and
of fat are hung on a string, and in
the cruel

to

famine.

pieces

a short time our guests begin to arrive.

The sparrows come

like
is

are

small

any likelihood of a
suspicious

at

first,

they find that there

is

as

first,

street-arabs that

they always

do,

appear whenever there

feast

but

or

gain

fight.

courage

They
when

no immediate prospect of
56

sudden death

fellow in

neat

his

then

comes, a dear

robin

brown velveteens

round his neck

comforter

red

little

and with

he looks so

like

a small boy with his hands in his pockets, that

one

almost

expects

At
are

last,

still

him

see

to

together and then blow the

emboldened by the

alive,

the

rub

wings

his

tips.

fact that the others

and thrushes

blackbirds

arrive

and nervously partake of the good things. Then,

upon the string from which the cocoa-nut hangs,
a blue-tit appears, a lively

He

of azure and of gold."

with

us

tight-rope

is

his

head, in

neck

order

on which he has

The
the

care

way

their

are

make

in

to

bird

his

we

Livery

at present favouring

efforts

secure

"

in

performance, to

admiration of his wife, and

break

little

to

great

the

that

he

will

stand

on

his

fear

certain

piece

of

they build

their

homes,

fat

set his heart.

with which

they fuss around the brooding mate and

tenderness towards their callow young, these

a

few
birds

thousand lovable

of

the

the

darlings

over the world.

57

of

the

traits

human

race

that
all

A COUNTRy WALK
" Season o mists

IN AUTUriN,

and mellow

fruitfulness,

Close, bosom-friend of the maturing sun."

Keats.

Spring

is

Summer

has

beautiful
all

with a childish

the glories of rich colouring, yet

Autumn, the season of decay and

favourite.

cannot say

why

death,

she stood at the portal of the Great

to

pass through

is

my

love her, but there

a feeling of sadness, of mystery about

was about

and

beauty,

her,

is

as

if

Unknown, and
of shade

to the land

beyond.

There

a strange fascination around

is

the animals

passage turn

dance

Do

feel

it.

What

makes

southwards while there

Autumn

the
is

birds

yet abun-

they hear the faint rustle of crimson

rustle that

Autumn moves along over the

we cannot comprehend, though

hear

the soft flutter of leaves

as

skirts

it

in

of

earthward.

58

land
later

falling

we

slowly

There

and pathos

a world of poetry

is

falling leaves

in

the

with what reluctance do they loosen

their hold

on the boughs that now give them no

sustenance

of

Autumn

your work

is

a touch of frost in the breath

as she whispers, "

is

You must

done, you must go."

longer," say the leaves.

little

the sun
that

there

still

is

here."

" Life

go, children,

Let us stay a

is

so sweet, and

But the voices of the winds

come over the heath-purpled moors from

ice-fields

say,

"Go, the time

is

near, go,"

leaves release their clasp, and slide

rich

"

brown carpet over which the

down

the

and the

to form the

skirts of

Autumn

rustle unceasingly.

No

words can describe the beauty of a northern

landscape in this season

woods

the

in their dress

of yellow and red line the lower slopes of a valley,

while higher up the pines and
their

dark winter dress, ready

firs

are

arrayed in

for the struggle with

the winds that follow on the path of

Far away, above the opposite

Autumn.

hill slope,

the moors,

bright with heather and ling, stretch mile on mile,

and among the purpled

late golden bees

loads to

its

bells,

heavy with honey, the

are at work, bearing the last few

winter storehouse.

59

An Autumn
wonders.

and you
Behold

walk furnishes a thousand sights and

away the loose bark of an elm-tree

small brown object like a date stone.

Pull
find a

it,

years.

Is

it

dead object
shall

wrapped up
King who is to

a chrysalis,

of an Egyptian

not like a fairy story

will,

when

mummy

like the

sleep

a thousand

This seemingly

the sun, like Prince Charming,

break the spell that bound

it,

spring up on

amber wings to sip the honey of Spring's

Yet such is its life story.
But Autumn

is

flowers.

waning, her crimson skirts sweep

onwards, and the ice-cloak descends from the North,

covering

all

Nature's

little toilers,

who now

sleep the

sleep of the just, having earned their rest.

%th October^ 1905.

60

5PBING.
"

Opens a door

From

in

Heaven

skies of glass

A Jacob's Ladder falls

On greening grass,
And

mountain wall

o'er the

Young angels

pass.

Oh, follow, leaping blood, the season's

Oh

lure,

heart, look up, serene, secure.

Warm

as the crocus cup, like

snowdrop pure."
Tennyson.

So much

has been written about Spring in both

prose and poetry that

Perhaps

that

attention

is

seasons.

The

they do

not

riverside

meadows

reds of

little

reason that

the

it

is

the

roses

of

excel

the

Autumn

in

it

remains to be

much

most

of

Summer
daffodil

early

compare

of a newly-opened bud.
6i

said.

has received so
beautiful

are

lovely,

all

but

which gilds the

Spring

with the

nor can the

pale

green

Perhaps we appreciate Spring's loveliness so

much because we have fasted while the countryside was covered with snow, and now we feast

upon

our eyes

the more lovely

quiescence

season's

her

of

by

and

been

predecessor,

appears

contrasted with the previous

we have

appears,

which

transformation

when

by the sweets

surfeited

and

do

Summer

time

the

not

appreciate,

we might otherwise have done, her

fully as

as

richer

beauties.

As soon
brown

as

nobs

branches of

leaves

last year's

were

upon

visible

the trees

had

fallen,

small

and

twigs

the

during the Winter

these

the

warmth

of Spring quickened the chilled sap into

renewed

remained

activity,

the

dormant, but as soon

as

they began to swell, and ere long burst

outer

dull

and

coat

exposed

to

view

the

delicate green leaves within.

sudden

transformation

now

takes

place

the

landscape no longer wears the sombre colours of

Winter,

it

seems as

if

some magician's brush has

passed over the land from south to north, painting

all

the

The

country green.

their leaf-buds, or

trees

have

opened

shaken out their catkins, which

62

cast
drift

on the wind
across the

of yellow

clouds

open meadow-land,

that

pollen

fertilising all

female flowers in their path.

Other

trees

do not

trust

dust to

their precious

the capricious breezes, but secrete the honey which

tempts the small wild bees to brave the uncertain

weathers of an English Spring, and at the same
time perform an involuntary service

The

insect

life

is

awake

also

in

for their hosts.

sunny hedge-

rows beetles are beginning to appear, and the ants

are

working

and extend

furiously to repair

their

subterranean homes.

The appearance

of the insects only heralds the

approach of the insectivores, and from

seas ever

increasing

streams of

bird

over

the

visitors

are

away

the

arriving.

Our own
now

bats,

Winter,
little

who have

jaws as they catch a

plainly on a

The
part

too,

still

flowers are

of this

slept

reappear, and the brisk snap of their

fly

can be heard quite

evening.

by no means the

altogether

least beautiful

lovely season.

Spring

heralded in by the snowdrop and wild violet

climax of

its

reign

is

reached

when the

is

the

daffodil

and cowslip are

flower,

in

and

is

it

ushered out

by the pink petals of the dog-rose.

That the human life has a Springtime
as Nature, has been

mental

life

declared

has one also

many

mature mind, we

When

the

full

of child-

leaf of the

Expansion.

call it

spiritual

times, but the

when the buds

begin to grow into the

thought

as well

search

for

Truth

results in

the discovery of perfect peace and understanding,

it

is

called Revelation.

Yet

these

Spiritual

three,

in

different

spheres

classed

together

under

ing

Mental, and
same process workof life, and might be
Natural,

the

the

Springtides, are

the

one

name

of

The

Awakening.
I'jth

^
64

March, 1905.

A STORy OF VILLAGE
Down
lies

sloping

the

in
little

village, its

irregular course

as a stream will

LIFE.

two ridges

valley between

one

street

wanders

between the rows of

wander betv/een

its

little

in

an

cottages,

willow-fringed

banks.

Some

of the houses

forefathers, but others

still

retain the thatch of our

have adopted the innovation

of slates, though they unite in having white-washed

walls,

and round

creepers,

their eaves there

making

hang the Virginian

crimson glory

in the

Autumn

sun.

The gardens

are

full

of bloom, though the beauty

of the hollyhocks and Canterbury bells

to

wane, while on

cornflower

make

the

hillsides

brilliant the

beginning

is

poppy and

the

wheat which

is

almost

ripe for the scythe.

This hamlet, set

in

the

woods and meadows, looks

65

midst of

beautiful in

bower of
its

repose

the evening light

in

the rays of the setting sun

on the windows of some of the cottages, and

dye pink the white walls of others. How fair this
scene appears when compared with a mountain
fall

village.

Perhaps some mine exists on a Welsh

hillside,

and there we may see the twin wheels that

raise

from the dark under-world to the light

the cage

of day.

mountain stream pursuing

course, has been harnessed

and made

to

turn

its

rugged

by the hand of man,

Above

a great water-wheel.

the mine the cottages of the workers are

dotted

wherever standing-ground can be obtained.

How

different are they

from the trim

little

dwellings in

the lowland.

Great blocks of stone, weighing half a ton, are

roughly trimmed and piled into walls guiltless of
mortar,
clay,

the

interstices

where

ferns

hold, giving

and

are

packed with

grasses

mud

or

soon gain a foot-

the house a picturesque,

if

unkempt,

appearance.

Sometimes the streams

suddenly.

rain

it

until

will

change

their courses

remember how a brook, charged with

became a roaring torrent, shifted in
66

the night, and the miners had to rise up to fight

with the water that ran like a mill-race

main

down

their

street, threatening destruction to the houses.

How
villages,

different

and how

the

are

highland

and

lowland

The

different the villagers.

miners,

rugged and hard as are the peaks, while the peasants

seem to have partaken of the kindly nature of
their

own ground

man by

so

we

see that "

virtue of his environment

environment

in

some sense owes

Man

is

....
its

made
that

existence to

man."
27//^

^
67

June^ 1905.

TOWN 3ND COUNTRy.

Every
it

season has

phase of beauty with which

its

decks the country-side

and

pale

the

and

landscape,

colouring

delicate

the

Spring

the

sweet

The Summer adorns

of

matin

brings

songs

us

and

flower

of

the

maturer

charms

with richer hues, and the chorus of bird

melody

birds.

is

fuller

and more

varied

her

and Autumn changes

from gold to crimson, and from crimson to brown,

to

be succeeded by the white drapery of Winter.

Everything in Nature is of pure, fresh, and

There

are

none

of

those

untarnished

beauty.

contrasts

the field which are beheld in a city,

in

where mews cower behind splendid mansions, and,

in

front

of a

jeweller's

shop,

exposing

precious

stones to the value of thousands of pounds, stands

the itinerant vendor of brass studs at a

penny a

pair.

Everywhere

in

our

magnificence

mother-city,

and wretchedness dwell side by side

6Z

on the seats

in

park

the

of

dresses

the carnival

twelve

at

all

"

is

moved

who

ladies

they drive
In

on

there

sat

some

seen

humanity

theatre

in

the

beens

men

before
the

beats

who

city,

where

night and day,

may

never slackened,

examples
the

side of

may

ranks

their

of

fallen

road passes

be

some

advertising

some of those
Has-

"

are

described

as

of ability and

education,

who have

unfortunate beings
"

is

the

of

sandwich-men,

of

procession

traffic

strange

down

the

seats,

rest

the theatre.

London

of

heart

and the stream of

in

morning see him as

the

in

home from

little

policeman, and

main thoroughfares

the

the great

be

by the

"

ladies

rainbow watch

same

midnight, on the

tramp endeavours to snatch

he

the

pass before them, and at

of fashion

twelve o'clock

noon,

o'clock

the colours of

had a career within

their

grasp.

Why

are

these

names not famous to-day?

But in the country, where everything is good
and fair. Nature offers us a thousand beautiful
aspects that can never be equalled by any work
of men's hands.

Has anyone

ever fashioned such

a wonderful work as an old oak, or

69

is

there

any

orchestra in

the world

song of the

God and

glory of

can equal the even-

that

"The Heavens

birds?

firmament

the

declare

showeth

handiwork," saith the Psalmist, but the

show how great man

What

the horizon

evening,

to a

how weak.
a

slowly below

sinks

still

waters, softening the hard

mountains, and flushing

of the

rich

the sun

of the sea, making a broad track of

molten gold on the

outlines

and

His
only

can be more beautiful than when, on

summer

still

is

cities

the

pink that

is

reflected

by

the
the

all

sky
pools

and water-courses.

The

heavily-leaved

begin to

trees

darkness unto themselves

the heads

catch the glory of the dying

still

gather
of the

sun,

the
hills

and

the

peaks show as dim masses against the blue of the

sky

the retreating tide lips softly round the bases

of weed-draped rocks

the wave-tops

with silver by the

moon

mellow

the

haze

the stillness

and

are

the

as

rustle

twitter of sleepy birds.

it

rises

only sounds
of the

Nature

through
that

trees,

sleeps,

tipped

are

and the

and peace

reigns supreme.
2,^th

70

break

May,

1905.

STORY OF PABn

"

Be

LIFE.

ever so humble, there's no place like home."

it

How very rarely

the true old English farm-house

is

day only in those out-ofthat

seem
the same year in, year out,
the-world places
to be seen at the present

does

it

remain as a testimony to the frugality of past

generations.

The

outside of such

suggest a sense of

a dwelling-place seems to

warmth and comfort

on some stormy night see the

light shine

to those

who

from behind

red-curtained windows.

its
I

have a mental picture of such a farm-house

my

in

mind it is built of great blocks of untrimmed

stone, hewn with immense labour from the hill
behind the house by some old farmer, the ancestor
;

of the present occupant.

The

sloping roof, with

71

its

dormer windows,

is

thatched with bracken and

ling,

and great stones

away
some wild night.
The interior of a Welsh farm-house when the
are placed at the corners to prevent

lamps are
with

might furnish a study

lit,

brasses, old

its

over a glowing peat

All round

the

flying

it

Rembrandt,

for

and the pot swinging

oak,
fire.

room, near the

pans

disposed

the

to

best

use,

common

purpose

advantage

pots

and

these

are

they are never demeaned

the household gods, and

by

runs

ceiling,

wide shelf laden with polished copper

black kettle being kept for the

of boiling

As my grandmother

water.

used to keep two pokers the parson, or brass one,

who
little

towards the

blaze

who

stood

black poker,

side of the
fire

on the

lay at his ease

stretched

so

hearth,

did these

fire-dog, with his feet

;

and the

or

upright at the

stiffly

and was used

curate,

poking the

for

good people with

their

copper

kettles.

There
not

is

know

always a
a

tall,

Welsh

black dresser

dresser,

with

who

its

does

rows

of

willow-pattern cups hanging by their handles from

the

edge of the shelves,

72

while

the

top shelf

is

generally consecrated

hideously ugly china

the

to

ornaments, which, though of repulsive aspect, have

value for a collector

The

open

great

looks

fireplace

quite

medieval,

with the stones on either side, and the caldron

caul swinging from a long chain

of

and half way up

the chimney the sides of bacon are hanging in the

thick

boy

peat

is

When

smoke.

the

sent up the chimney, to

ham

sweep, with a

larder runs low, a

return, black

as

equally grimy, but of excellent

flavour.

There
cottages,

shawls

are

the

hand-looms

still

on which are spun

women

knit

in

the

use

The

so rarely seen outside Wales.

cloaks

in the

the

of

never worn, but

Welsh

they are

Welsh

stockings by the dozen,

and the men carve those long pear-wood

scarlet

these

in

famous

tall

peasantry

still

spoons

hats and

now

are

carefully preserved

family chest, and rank with the kettles and

carved spoons.

The

old-fashioned farmers do not put

in banks, so

the wall,

they

tie their

in the cavity,

pull a couple of

money up

much

stones

in a little bag,

faith

out of
put

it

and then replace one of the stones

and

a stranger to find this hoard

for

sary to pull the house

bag passes on from

of the farmer

man

a rich

gold,

in

heir

it

will

silver,

is

down

is

necess-

stone by stone.

and

father to son,

taken

it

This

at the death

out and counted, and as

have six or seven hundred pounds

and

some time

to

even

takes

his

compute the amount of

his

copper,

it

legacy.

The Welsh,

as

The

misunderstood.
is

so

utterly

for the
fore

is

are

nation,

Celt

is

it

one to judge the other.

not

very

generally

and Saxon standpoint

different that

criticism, for

just an account of

seen

almost impossible

This essay, there-

am no

Welsh farm-house

life

critic,

as

but

have

it.

22nd

farrold

SonSy Ltd,, Printers , The

74

Empire

October^ 1905.

Press, Norwich.

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