Legends and Lyrics Volume Ii Part 5

"Years pa.s.sed on, and then I saw them first: It was hard to say which was most fair, Your sweet mother's bright and blus.h.i.+ng face, Or the graver Margaret's stately grace; Golden locks, or braided raven hair.

"Then it happened, by a strange, sad fate, One thought entered into each young soul: Joy for one--if for the other pain; Loss for one--if for the other gain: One must lose, and one possess the whole.

"And so this--this--what they cared for--came And belonged to Margaret: was her own.

But she laid the gift aside, to take Pain and sorrow for your mother's sake, And none knew it but herself alone.

"Then she travelled far away, and none The strange mystery of her absence knew.

Margaret's secret thought was never told: Even your mother thought her changed and cold, And for many years I thought so too.

"She was gone; and then your mother took That poor gift which Margaret laid aside: Flower, or toy, or trinket, matters not: What it was had better be forgot . . .

It was just then she became my bride.

"Now, I think May knows the hope I have.

Arthur, darling, can you guess the rest?

Even my little Olga understands Great gifts can be given by little hands, Since of all gifts Love is still the best.

"Margaret is my dear and honoured wife, And I hold her so. But she can claim From your hearts, dear ones, a loving debt I can neither pay, nor yet forget: You can give it in your mother's name.

"Earth spoils even Love, and here a shade On the purest, n.o.blest heart may fall: Now your mother dwells in perfect light, She will bless us, I believe, to-night,-- She is happy now, and she knows all."

Next day was farewell--a day of tears; Yet Sir Arthur, as he rode away, And turned back to see his lady stand With the children clinging to her hand, Looked as if it were a happy day.

Ah, they loved her soon! The little one Crept into her arms as to a nest; Arthur always with her now; and May Growing nearer to her every day:-- --Well, I loved my own dear lady best.

VERSE: GIVE PLACE

Starry Crowns of Heaven Set in azure night!

Linger yet a little Ere you hide your light:- --Nay; let Starlight fade away Heralding the day!

Snowflakes pure and spotless, Still, oh, still remain, Binding dreary winter, In your silver chain:- --Nay; but melt at once and bring Radiant sunny Spring!

Blossoms, gentle blossoms, Do not wither yet; Still for you the sun s.h.i.+nes, Still the dews are wet:-- --Nay; but fade and wither last, Fruit must come at last!

Joy, so true and tender, Dare you not abide?

Will you spread your pinions, Must you leave our side?

--Nay; an Angel's s.h.i.+ning grace Waits to fill your place!

VERSE: MY WILL

Since I have no lands or houses, And no h.o.a.rded golden store, What can I leave those who love me When they see my face no more?

Do not smile; I am not jesting, Though my words sound gay and light, Listen to me, dearest Alice, I will make my Will to-night.

First for Mabel--who will never Let the dust of future years Dim the thought of me, but keep it Brighter still: perhaps with tears.

In whose eyes, whate'er I glance at, Touch, or praise, will always s.h.i.+ne, Through a strange and sacred radiance, By Love's Charter, wholly mine; She will never lend to others Slenderest link of thought I claim, I will, therefore, to her keeping Leave my memory and my name.

Bertha will do truer service To her kind than I have done, So I leave to her young spirit The long Work I have begun.

Well! the threads are tangled, broken, And the colours do not blend, She will bend her earnest striving Both to finish and amend: And, when it is all completed, Strong with care and rich with skill, Just because my hands began it, She will love it better still.

Ruth shall have my dearest token, The one link I dread to break, The one duty that I live for, She, when I am gone, will take.

Sacred is the trust I leave her, Needing patience, prayer, and tears; I have striven to fulfil it, As she knows--these many years.

Sometimes hopeless, faint, and weary Yet a blessing shall remain With the task, and Ruth will prize it For my many hours of pain.

What must I leave you, my Alice?

Nothing, Love, to do or bear, Nothing that can dim your blue eyes With the slightest cloud of care.

I will leave my heart to love you, With the tender faith of old; Still to comfort, warm, and light you, Should your life grow dark or cold.

No one else, my child, can claim it; Though you find old scars of pain, They were only wounds, my darling, There is not, I trust, one stain.

Are my gifts indeed so worthless Now the slender sum is told?

Well, I know not: years may bless them With a n.o.bler price than gold.

Am I poor? ah no, most wealthy, Not in these poor gifts you take, But in the true hearts that tell me You will keep them for my sake.

VERSE: KING AND SLAVE

If in my soul, dear, An omen should dwell, Bidding me pause, ere I love thee too well; If the whole circle, Of n.o.ble and wise, With stern forebodings, Between us should rise.

I will tell them, dear, That Love reigns--a King, Where storms cannot reach him, And words cannot sting; He counts it dishonour His faith to recall; He trusts;--and for ever He gives--and gives all!

I will tell thee, dear, That Love is--a Slave, Who dreads thought of freedom, As life dreads the grave; And if doubt or peril Of change there may be, Such fear would but drive him Still nearer to thee!

VERSE: A CHANT

"Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini."

I.

Who is the Angel that cometh?

Life!

Let us not question what he brings, Peace or Strife, Under the shade of his mighty wings, One by one, Are his secrets told; One by one, Lit by the rays of each morning sun, Shall a new flower its petals unfold, With the mystery hid in its heart of gold.

We will arise and go forth to greet him, Singly, gladly, with one accord;-- "Blessed is he that cometh In the name of the Lord!"

II.

Who is the Angel that cometh?