If I should wish hereafter that your heartShould 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.
If I should wish hereafter that your heartShould 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.
The Spring's bright tints no more are seen,And Summer's ample robe of greenIs russet-gold and brown;When flowers fall to every breezeAnd, 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 nookWhere Autumn's colours glow;How bright the sky! How full the sheaves!What mellow glories gild the leavesBefore 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 goldAnd leaves drop down.
The Spring's bright tints no more are seen,And Summer's ample robe of greenIs russet-gold and brown;When flowers fall to every breezeAnd, 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 nookWhere Autumn's colours glow;How bright the sky! How full the sheaves!What mellow glories gild the leavesBefore 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 goldAnd leaves drop down.
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.
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.
Come down! come down! O Holy Ghost!As once of old Thou didst come downIn 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 bandsOf those who fain would strength receive;And in the laying on of handsBless 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.
Come down! come down! O Holy Ghost!As once of old Thou didst come downIn 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 bandsOf those who fain would strength receive;And in the laying on of handsBless 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.
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.
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, O wood, to fade away,As autumn's yellow leaves decayA better spring impends,—Then green and glorious shall my treeTake deep root in eternity,—Whose summer never ends!Teach me, O bird of passage, this,To seek, in faith a better blissOn other unknown shores!When all is winter here and ice,There ever-smiling ParadiseUnfolds 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 wingThe liberated soul shall spring,Which now creeps as a worm!Teach me, O Lord, to yonder skiesTo lift in hope these weary eyesWith earthly sorrows worn.Good Friday was a bitter day,But bright the sun's eternal rayWhich broke on Easter morn.
Teach me, O wood, to fade away,As autumn's yellow leaves decayA better spring impends,—Then green and glorious shall my treeTake deep root in eternity,—Whose summer never ends!
Teach me, O bird of passage, this,To seek, in faith a better blissOn other unknown shores!When all is winter here and ice,There ever-smiling ParadiseUnfolds 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 wingThe liberated soul shall spring,Which now creeps as a worm!
Teach me, O Lord, to yonder skiesTo lift in hope these weary eyesWith earthly sorrows worn.Good Friday was a bitter day,But bright the sun's eternal rayWhich broke on Easter morn.
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 PRIVATETHEATRICALS, &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 theKhoja, and other translations.18. JULIANA HORATIA EWING AND HER BOOKS, with a selection from Mrs. Ewing's Letters.
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