|
I WAKE before the morn, when all is
still;
No noisy crowing clamours yet to hail
That first long glimmer o'er the eastern hill.
Dim shadow rests upon the quiet vale;
Night silence holds it yet in happy rest;
Voiceless the silver river shimmers pale;
One star peeps shily through the clouded west
Above the moor's low blackness stretching wide
From the dusk ridges of the wood's long crest.
One light gleams redly on the mountain side
And seems to cheer the gloom. And yet perchance
That gleam were more with thought of grief allied.
Perhaps a mother, with love-restless glance,
Sits lonely by it, weeping in the night,
Watching the tokens of death's stern advance;
And with a trembling hand she trims the light
That flickers strangely on his dying face,
Her son's dear face that lies so worn and white;
And prays unceasing that dear Heaven's grace
May yet withdraw him from the Cold One's grasp,
And seeks in vain for sign of his retrace.
Perhaps this moment hears his dying gasp,
And she, all stony in her mother-woe,
Feels a dead hand lie heavy in her clasp.
Some grief, alas! that little star's red glow
Has surely shone on through a troubled night,
Some anguish such as pallid watchers know.
And I, who, wakened ere the morning light
By a vague consciousness of inward pain,
Look outward through the gloom with tear-dimmed sight,
And, feeling power is given me in vain
Of joying in degree surpassing speech,
Pine as one hill-born tethered to a plain,
And sigh because my days may never reach
Fullness of life and love their need to fill -
Somewhat my thoughts my sicklier fancy teach.
Seeing that sorrow-star upon the hill,
And reading many's sorrows by its ray,
I turn me from myself with holier will,
And know my feet tread not too rough a way,
Though some sharp stones lie crimsoned from their blood;
Know I have cause to thank as well as pray.
And know moreover that, well understood,
It is great love that gives us not all joy,
So we may learn more joy in others' good,
And learn a love more free from self's alloy,
And so live deeply, having heavenly food,
Being love-workers in God's great employ. |
A Woman Sold
Bartimaeus
Judas
Pilate
The Walk To Emmaus
A Bride
A March Night
A Messenger
A Mother's Cry
A Wedding
Afterwards
Dead Amy
Deserted
Dreaming
Glad Waves
Going
How The Brook Sings
If
In The Storm
In The Sunshine
Looking Downstairs
Mary Lost
Never Again
Night Whispers
On The Lake
On The Shore
Our Lily
Passing Away
Perjured
Safe
Shadow
Sunlight
The Blush Rose
The Gift
The Heiress' Wooer
The Hidden Wound
The Lake
The Land Of Happy Dreams
The Old Year Out
The Red Star On The Hill
The River
The Setting Star
The Shadow Of A Cloud
To And Fro
To One Of Many
Too faithful
Two Maidens |
