Home Lyrics: A Book of Poems Part 1

Home Lyrics.

by Hannah. S. Battersby.

PREFACE.

This second volume of HOME LYRICS has been published since the death of the auth.o.r.ess, and in fulfilment of her last wishes, by her children, and is by them dedicated to the memory of the dearest of mothers, whose whole life was consecrated to their happiness and welfare and who fully reciprocated her self-denial, devotion and love.

HER CHILDREN.

HOME LYRICS.

TO THE MEMORY OF A BELOVED SON WHO Pa.s.sED FROM EARTH, APRIL 3rd, 1887.

I would gaze down the vista of past years, In fancy see to-night, A loved one pa.s.sed from sight, But whose blest memory my spirit cheers.

Shrined in the sacred temple of my soul, He seems again to live, And fond affection give, His mother's heart comfort and console.

Perception of the beautiful and bright, In nature and in art, Evolved from his true heart Perpetual beams like suns.h.i.+ne's cheering light.

A simple unsophisticated life, With faith in action strong, And perseverance long, Made all he did with vigorous purpose rife.

Responsive to sweet sympathy's kind claim, His quick impulsive heart Loved to take active part In mirthful joy or sorrowing grief and pain.

His manly face would glow with honest glee.

As with parental pride, Which he ne'er sought to hide, He fondly gazed on his loved family.

For them he crowned with industry his days; Ever they were to him The sweetest, holiest hymn Of his heart's jubilant, exultant praise.

And Oh, the tender pity of his eye.

The gentle touch and word, When his fond heart was stirred To practical display of sympathy.

His true affection, manners gently gay, The kiss that seems e'en now Warm on my lips and brow, Are memories that ne'er can pa.s.s away.

Naught can e'er lessen the fond hope that we May, one day, meet above With all we dearly love, To live again in blissful unity.

BIRDIES. FOR A LITTLE FIVE YEAR OLD.

A tender birdie mother sat In her soft nest one day, Teaching her little fledglings, three, To gambol, sing, and play.

Dear little brood, the mother said, 'Tis time for you to fly From branch to branch, from tree to tree, And see the bright blue sky.

Chirrup, the eldest, quick replied, O yes, sweet mother mine, We'll be so glad to hop about, And see the bright suns.h.i.+ne.

Twitter and Downy also said, We, too, shall happy be, To bask within the sun's warm rays, And swing on branch and tree.

Well, then, the mother said, you shall, And straight the birdies all, Perched on the edge of the high nest, Beside the chestnuts tall.

Remember, said the mother bird, You must not go beyond That row of trees that skirt the edge Of the transparent pond.

For if you do you might get lost, Or drowned, and die in pain, And never to our dear home nest Return in joy again.

Well mind your orders, mother dear, And will not disagree, But do just what you tell us now, Said all the birdies three.

They hopped off on delighted wing, To the next chestnut tree, O'erjoyed and panting with delight, The great, grand world to see.

Oh! what a bright, glad scene, they cried, And what a wond'rous sky!

What joy 'twould be to kiss the Sun, And be with him on high.

And I, said Downy, I should like To sail on yonder sea, And with that pretty milk-white bird, Skim o'er the waters free.

Said Twitter, you talk very large, And do not seem to know Our little wings have not yet power Beyond these trees to go.

Besides, said Chirrup, mother said We must not go beyond, But only hop and fly about The trees that skirt the pond.

But mother's gone to get us food, And she will never know, Said Downy, so upon the pond I am resolved to go.

O fie! exclaimed the birdies both, To think of such a thing, You might get harm, and on us all Sorrow and trouble bring.

Oh, I am not a bit afraid, I feel so strong and free, And will not homeward go until I float on yonder sea.

Ah, well, said both the other two, We will not go with you, Good-bye, we will not disobey Our mother kind and true.

Off went the two obedient birds, And safely reached their nest, The little birdies' happy home Of sweet delight and rest.

Meanwhile, poor naughty Downy flew From off the chestnut tree, Away towards the milk-white bird That skimmed the waters free.

But ah! his wings were much too weak To bear him all the way, And Downy fell imploring aid From loved ones far away.

But no help came. The mother bird Was far off gathering food, From perfumed clover meadows round, For her beloved brood.

And when she reached her nest and found But two birds there alone, And heard that Downy to the pond So wilfully had flown,

Her heart, so lately full of joy, Was rent with grief and pain, For fear lest she should never see Her darling bird again.

Calling upon his name she flew, In terror, far and near, From tree to pond, from pond to tree, Seeking her birdie dear.

She called; alas, no answer came To that poor mother's cry, She searched among the sweet, wild flowers, And chestnut branches high.

At length she spied a tiny speck Beside the waters clear, It was, alas, the lifeless form Of her lost Downy dear.