Chapter 7

Never, never since that hour Has the lake brought forth a flower. Ever harshly do the sedges Some sad secret from its edges Whisper to the shore. Some sad secret I forget. The lily though will blossom yet: And when it blooms I shall have met My love for evermore.

FROM FLEETING PLEASURES.

A REQUIEM FOR ONE ALIVE.

From fleeting pleasures and abiding cares, From sin's seductions and from Satan's snares, From woes and wrath to penitence and prayers, Veni in pace!

Sweet absolution thy sad spirit heal; To godly cares that end in endless weal, To joys man cannot think or speak or feel, Vade in pace!

From this world's ways and being led by them, From floods of evil thy youth could not stem, From tents of Kedar to Jerusalem, Veni in pace!

Blest be thy worldly loss to thy soul's gain, Blest be the blow that freed thee from thy chain, Blest be the tears that wash thy spirit's stain, Vade in pace!

Oh, dead, and yet alive! Oh, lost and found! Salvation's walls now compass thee around, Thy weary feet are set on holy ground. Veni in pace!

Death gently garner thee with all the blest, In heavenly habitations be thou guest; To light perpetual and eternal rest, Vade in pace!

THE RUNAWAY'S RETURN.

It was on such a night as this, Some long unreal years ago, When all within were wrapp'd in sleep, And all without was wrapp'd in snow, The full moon rising in the east, The old church standing like a ghost, That, shivering in the wintry mist, And breathless with the silent frost, A little lad, I ran to seek my fortune on the main; I marvel now with how much hope and with how little pain!

It is of such a night as this, In all the lands where I have been, That memory too faithfully Has painted the familiar scene. By all the shores, on every sea, In luck or loss, by night or day, My highest hope has been to see That home from which I ran away. For this I toil'd, to this I look'd through many a weary year, I marvel now with how much hope, and with how little fear.

On such a night at last I came, But they were dead I loved of yore. Ah, Mother, then my heart felt all The pain it should have felt before! I came away, though loth to come, I clung, and yet why should I cling? When all have gone who made it home, It is the shadow, not the thing. A homeless man, once more I seek my fortune on the main: I marvel with how little hope, and with what bitter pain.

FANCY FREE.

A GIRL'S SONG.

With bark and bound and frolic round My dog and I together run; While by our side a brook doth glide, And laugh and sparkle in the sun. We ask no more of fortune's store Than thus at our sweet wills to roam: And drink heart's ease from every breeze That blows about the hills of home. As, fancy free, With game and glee, We happy three Dance down the glen.

And yet they say that some fine day This vagrant stream may serve a mill; My doggy guard a master's yard; My free heart choose another's will. How this may fare we little care, My dog and I, as still we run! Whilst by our side the brook doth glide, And laugh and sparkle in the sun. For, fancy free, With game and glee, We happy three Dance down the glen.

MY LOVE'S GIFT.

You ask me what--since we must part-- You shall bring home to me; Bring back a pure and faithful heart, As true as mine to thee. I ask not wealth nor fame, I only ask for thee, Thyself--and that dear self the same-- My love, bring back to me!

You talk of gems from foreign lands, Of treasure, spoil, and prize. Ah, love! I shall not search your hands, But look into your eyes. I ask not wealth nor fame, I only ask for thee, Thyself--and that dear self the same-- My love, bring back to me!

You speak of glory and renown, With me to share your pride, Unbroken faith is all the crown I ask for as your bride. I ask not wealth nor fame, I only ask for thee, Thyself--and that dear self the same-- My love, bring back to me!

You bid me with hope's eager gaze Behold fair fortune come. I only dream I see your face Beside the hearth at home. I ask not wealth nor fame, I do but ask for thee! Thyself--and that dear self the same-- May God restore to me!

ANEMONES.

If I should wish hereafter that your heart Should beat with one fair memory of me, May Time's hard hand our footsteps guide apart, But lead yours back one spring-time to the Lea. Nodding Anemones, Wind-flowers pale, Bloom with the budding trees, Dancing to every breeze, Mock hopes more fair than these, Love's vows more frail.

For then the grass we loved grows green again, And April showers make April woods more fair; But no sun dries the sad salt tears of pain, Or brings back summer lights on faded hair, Nodding Anemones, Wind-flowers pale, Bloom with the budding trees, Dancing to every breeze, Mock hopes more frail than these, Love's vows more frail.

AUTUMN LEAVES.

The Spring's bright tints no more are seen, And Summer's ample robe of green Is russet-gold and brown; When flowers fall to every breeze And, shed reluctant from the trees, The leaves drop down.

A sadness steals about the heart, --And is it thus from youth we part, And life's redundant prime? Must friends like flowers fade away, And life like Nature know decay, And bow to time?

And yet such sadness meets rebuke, From every copse in every nook Where Autumn's colours glow; How bright the sky! How full the sheaves! What mellow glories gild the leaves Before they go.

Then let us sing the jocund praise, In this bright air, of these bright days, When years our friendships crown; The love that's loveliest when 'tis old-- When tender tints have turned to gold And leaves drop down.

HYMNS.

CONFIRMATION.

Long, long ago, with vows too much forgotten, The Cross of Christ was seal'd on every brow, Ah! slow of heart, that shun the Christian conflict; Rise up at last! The accepted time is now. Soldiers of Jesus! Blest who endure; Stand in the battle; the victory is sure.

Hark! hark! the Saviour's voice to each is calling-- "I bore the Cross of Death in pain for thee; On thee the Cross of daily life is falling: Children! take up the Cross and follow Me." Soldiers of Jesus! &c.

Strive as God's saints have striven in all ages; Press those slow steps where firmer feet have trod: For us their lives adorn the sacred pages, For them a crown of glory is with God. Soldiers of Jesus! &c.

Peace! peace! sweet voices bring an ancient story, (Such songs angelic melodies employ,) "Hard is the strife, but unconceived the glory: Short is the pain, eternal is the joy." Soldiers of Jesus! &c.

On! Christian souls, all base temptations spurning, Drown coward thoughts in Faith's triumphant hymn; Since Jesus suffer'd, our salvation earning, Shall we not toil that we may rest with Him? Soldiers of Jesus! &c. Amen.

WHITSUNTIDE.

Come down! come down! O Holy Ghost! As once of old Thou didst come down In fiery tongues at Pentecost, The Apostolic heads to crown.

Come down! though now no flame divine, Nor heaven-sent Dove, our sight amaze; Our Church still shows the outward sign, Thou truly givest inward grace.

Come down! come down! on infancy, The babes whom Jesus deign'd to love; God give us grace by faith to see, Above the Font, the mystic Dove.

Come down! come down! on kneeling bands Of those who fain would strength receive; And in the laying on of hands Bless us beyond what we believe.

Come down! not only on the saint, Oh! struggle with the hard of heart, With wilful sin and inborn taint, Till lust, and wrath, and pride depart.

Come down! come down! sweet Comforter! It was the promise of the Lord. Come down! although we grieve Thee sore, Not for our merits--but His Word.

Come down! come down! not what we would, But what we need, O bring with Thee. Turn life's sore riddle to our good; A little while and we shall see. Amen.

CHRISTMAS WISHES.

A CAROL.

Oh, happy Christmas, full of blessings, come! Now bid our discords cease; Here give the weary ease; Let the long-parted meet again in peace; Bring back the far-away; Grant us a holiday; And by the hopes of Christmas-tide we pray-- Let love restore the fallen to his Home; Whilst up and down the snowy streets the Christmas minstrels sing; And through the frost from countless towers the bells of Christmas ring.

Ah, Christ! and yet a happier day shall come! Then bid our discords cease; There give the weary ease; Let the long-parted meet again in peace; Bring back the far-away; Grant us a holiday; And by the hopes of Christmas-tide we pray-- Let love restore the fallen to his Home; Whilst up and down the golden streets the blessed angels sing, And evermore the heavenly chimes in heavenly cadence ring.

TEACH ME.

_Translated from the Danish of Oehlenschläger._

Teach me, O wood, to fade away, As autumn's yellow leaves decay A better spring impends,-- Then green and glorious shall my tree Take deep root in eternity,-- Whose summer never ends!

Teach me, O bird of passage, this, To seek, in faith a better bliss On other unknown shores! When all is winter here and ice, There ever-smiling Paradise Unfolds its happy doors.

Teach me, thou summer butterfly, To break the bonds which on me lie. With fetters all too firm. Ah, soon on golden purple wing The liberated soul shall spring, Which now creeps as a worm!

Teach me, O Lord, to yonder skies To lift in hope these weary eyes With earthly sorrows worn. Good Friday was a bitter day, But bright the sun's eternal ray Which broke on Easter morn.

THE END.

_Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London & Bungay._

_The present Series of Mrs. Ewing's Works is the only authorized, complete, and uniform Edition published._

_It will consist of 18 volumes, Small Crown 8vo, at 2s. 6d. per vol., issued, as far as possible, in chronological order, and these will appear at the rate of two volumes every two months, so that the Series will be completed within 18 months. The device of the cover was specially designed by a Friend of Mrs. Ewing._

_The following is a list of the books included in the Series_--

1. MELCHIOR'S DREAM, AND OTHER TALES.

2. MRS. OVERTHEWAY'S REMEMBRANCES.

3. OLD-FASHIONED FAIRY TALES.

4. A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING.

5. THE BROWNIES, AND OTHER TALES.

6. SIX TO SIXTEEN.

7. LOB LIE-BY-THE-FIRE, AND OTHER TALES.

8. JAN OF THE WINDMILL.

9. VERSES FOR CHILDREN, AND SONGS.

10. THE PEACE EGG--A CHRISTMAS MUMMING PLAY--HINTS FOR PRIVATE THEATRICALS, &c.

11. A GREAT EMERGENCY, AND OTHER TALES.

12. BROTHERS OF PITY, AND OTHER TALES OF BEASTS AND MEN.

13. WE AND THE WORLD, Part I.

14. WE AND THE WORLD, Part II.

15. JACKANAPES--DADDY DARWIN'S DOVECOTE--THE STORY OF A SHORT LIFE.

16. MARY'S MEADOW, AND OTHER TALES OF FIELDS AND FLOWERS.

17. MISCELLANEA, including The Mystery of the Bloody Hand--Wonder Stories--Tales of the Khoja, and other translations.

18. JULIANA HORATIA EWING AND HER BOOKS, with a selection from Mrs. Ewing's Letters.

S.P.C.K., NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, LONDON, W.C.

End of Project Gutenberg's Verses for Children, by Juliana Horatia Ewing