Verses and Rhymes By the Way Part 9

Thou'rt not without His witnesses for children of thy sod, In lofty and in lowly life, are found who walk with G.o.d Land of the hearty welcome! who travels thy valleys o'er Knows more of human kindness than he ever knew before.

While some are kind to friends alone, thy sons whate'er befal More like the blessed sun and rain have kindliness for all.

O Erin, my mother Erin! much my love would say of thee, Were my lips but half so eloquent as my heart would have them be.

As Moses longed for Lebanon, so I long that once again My feet might press the shamrocks in the meadows by the Maine.

Oh to see the wee brown larks again, once more to hear them sing, As up to heaven's blessed gates they soar on tireless wing!

I'd watch them till I'd half forget the burden of my years, And tender thoughts of childhood would well up in happy tears.

I may never see thee more, _mo run_, but with each breath I draw Thou art still to me _mavourneen_, so _an slainte leat gu bragh._

WRITTEN FOR THE O'CONNEL CENTENARY.

Sons of the bright, green island, Gathered by the pine-fringed lake, In honour of his memory, Who battled for your sake, Listen, we too pay our tribute To a fame that well endures; He, who ventured much for liberty, Is ours as well as yours.

Men fought in vain for freedom, And lay down in felon graves; "Your n.o.blest then were exiles, Your proudest then were slaves"

When the people, blind and furious, Maddened by oppression's scorn, Struggled, seethed in wild upheaval, Was the Liberator born.

Who took the sword fell by the sword, This man was born to show, How thoughts would win where steel had failed One hundred years ago By force the patriot tried in vain To stem oppression's might, This man arose and won the cause, By pleading for the right.

He stood to plead for liberty On Dunedin's Calton-hill; No man had ever greater power To move men's hearts at will Erin, without name, senate, flag, This, her advocate and son, Pleaded for those who tried and lost, With those who tried and won

He stood to ask for justice, For ruth and mercy's grace, For a people of another faith, And of another race He stood on ground made holy By resistance unto wrong, And Scotia's freemen gathered round, Full twenty thousand strong

And rock and distant city, The broad Forth gliding clear, Yea, every heath-clad hill-top Had hushed itself to hear, From the shades of hero martyrs Of patriotic fame, From the land they thought worth fighting for, High inspiration came

He won the cause he strove for, With bold undaunted brow, And his name and fame roll brightening on Along the years till now, All honour to his memory, May his words, where'er they fall, Bring forth the love of liberty, And equal rights to all

WE LAMENT NOT FOR ONE BUT MANY

'At last he is dead'

So the wondering, horror-struck neighbours said, A skilful touch of his knife Has cut the thread of a wasted life He has reached the end of the downward road, And rushed unbidden to meet his G.o.d, Over every duty past every tie, Unwarned, unhindered, he rushed along, Through the wild license of sin, and wrong, And into the silent eternity

Relax thy anguished watch, O wife And fold thy hands--and yet--and yet, After all the tears which thou hast wept, Through nights when happier mortals slept, Thou only wilt weep with fond regret, Over the corpse of the hopeless dead For the cause accursed, of drink he has bled, For that cause he lived and suffered and died Many deaths in one horrible life,-- The death of his honour, the death of his pride, On that altar he sacrificed child and wife Hope, liberty, purity, more than life Lifes life, G.o.d's image, he crushed and killed, Tore and defaced, wasted and spoiled, Uncurbed in pa.s.sion, iron willed, For _this_ long years he has laboured and toiled, Devoted his talents, his time his breath, And at the last his blood he has shed Truly the wages of sin is death

He was once a babe on a mother's breast, Tenderly nourished, cared for, caressed Watched with a mother's love and pride Dreams of the future warm and bright, High hopes ambitions in rainbow light Cl.u.s.tered around him a fairy swarm Of tender fancies sweet and warm, As she hung over his cradle bed, In all this world there's none so bright, So clever as mother's heart's delight My child of promise," she proudly said

Oh would to G.o.d that he then had died Died when the anguish of heartstrings torn, The sudden stilling of childish laughter, The awful vacance that fills the place Of the soft, warm touch, of the dear, dear face, Of the sweet dead child that the heart gropes after For G.o.d's own voice to the mourner saith, "Be still, I am G.o.d, there is hope in his death'

Alas! for the woe that under the sun Can find no comfort! this child lived on.

What must be his mother's sorrow and sin, If she held the gla.s.s to his infant lips Taught him the taste of sweetened gin, As a cure for every childish pain, To be tried and tampered with once and again If she taught him to wors.h.i.+p at fas.h.i.+on's shrine, In its magic circle to look on wine.

To pour it sparkling in ruby light, The adder's sting the serpent's bite, Came to him at last among evil men, But he once was a boy, A mother's joy, Clever and gifted with tongue and pen, The cup of temptation Was inspiration, Oh would to G.o.d he had died even then The mother's tears shed over the slain, Had then had hope in their bitter pain

O mothers, stronger than life is love And your love is most like G.o.d's above, And power likest G.o.d's to you is given, With the greatest trust that is under heaven He gives to your hands to have and to hold More precious than rubies, better than gold G.o.d's little children to teach and to train, And to lead them upward to Him again G.o.d keep you and save you from earning the curse That shadows the life with hopeless remorse He once was a lover an innocent maid Into his keeping gave up her life, Into his hand her own she laid For better, for worse As a blessing, a curse, Took on her the sacred name of wife, And stood at her post through all these years Of sorrow and sin, of anguish and tears There have been martyrs for G.o.d and right, Pa.s.sed through blood and fire into endless light Count all the martyrs to right that died Since Abel's blood to Jehovah cried There are but few in that s.h.i.+ning throng Compared to the martyrs of sin and wrong Count not that woman's life by years, Count by the dropping of heart-wrung tears To the common lot of toil and care, That dims the eye and the heart strings wring, He added, of woe that none could share, Whole ages of sorrow and suffering

She bore her torture for duty's sake, Firm as saint in the tower and at the stake, Bore want and woe, and his evil name, For him who for years was dead to shame She saw his brood about her knee Into an evil lot they were born To bear for his sin the cruel scorn Of the world unthinking, hard and cold Prematurely saddened, early old, They never knew home as a place of rest, Except when their home was the mother's breast, And worse than all she had to see Them taught the secrets of sin and woe, Which happier children never know Alas! that such a thing should be Her darlings were made to pa.s.s through the fire To the Moloch of vice and sinful desire, The father's example of life and tongue Brought the knowledge of evil to them while young, And in sorrow and shame, That none may name, In strife and sin all tempest-tost The innocence G.o.d gives to babes was lost All is over, nought's left but dishonoured clay, But the evil men do lives longer than they.

Of a truth the saddest for tongue or pen Are these words o'er a ruin--"He might have been,"

And sadder the words in jest set free "This is; but alas! it should not be."

He has pa.s.sed into darkness who lived in vain; But what shall their future portion be, Who, pa.s.sing by on the other side, Themselves from the curse secure and free, No plan of relief or rescue tried?

Or worse, made profit out of his pain, And lured him on to his death for gain?

LINES FOR THE BRIDAL

They will place a bridal wreath, maiden, To crown all your s.h.i.+ning hair; The mist-like cloud of the bridal veil Will float round a face most fair.

They will dress you in bridal robes, maiden, And the holy words be said, And the ring put on and two made one, And the maiden we love be wed.

You'll give him your virgin hand, maiden, And become a wedded wife; That hand will mingle "honey for two"

To sweeten the bitter of life.

They will give you costly gifts, maiden, And many a wish beside Will rise in prayer in blessings come down On thy head O fair young bride

And kind will the bridegroom be maiden True and tender as years roll on Who learns to love in the school of Christ Will cherish what he has won

And so what can I say more maiden Wooed and won and to be wed, Pray that His blessing who loved till death May rest on your fair young head

In the hollow of His hand maiden, He will keep you who fainteth not He will cause the splendour of His face To s.h.i.+ne on your happy lot

WELCOME HOME

You are coming home with the breath of spring Flying home to a love-lined nest, Most loving care hath made it fair Your hands will do the rest

And the bridal robe you have laid aside And the vail all of lacy foam, The maiden's wed, the tour is sped So welcome, welcome home

The past is laid by with the bridal wreath The bride has come home a wife, And now we pray that blessings may Crown all your wedded life

What shall be the blessing, my dearest dear, When it's all that we have to give?

That peace and love, from G.o.d above, Be yours while ye both shall live.

That high love that makes of the wife a queen, Of a cottage a palace home, The coa.r.s.e web fine, life's water wine, The fire-side chair a throne.

Love that drops like dew from heaven to fill With all blessing your earthly cup; That draws you nigh to Him Most High, Bidding your souls look up

Unto Him who has ordered all your lot, To the Hand that will give the best, That bids you come up to His home To be His wedding guest.