Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 132.djvu/392

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386
CHANGES, ETC.


CHANGES.

"Be the day short, or be the day long,
At length it ringeth to evensong."
Old Song.

Time brings changes,
Joys and cares,
Stealing on us
Unawares.

Yesterday is gone for aye,
And to-morrow is to-day;
So the hours flee fast away,
And the days roll on.

See the young spring's budding story
Fading in the summer's glory,
Autumn dies to winter hoary,
And the days roll on.

From the church tower,
Hark; the bell
Tolls the old year's
Passing knell.

Ah! how swift the months have fled,
Since around his infant head
Hope her dewy halo shed!
So the days roll on.

Spread of stainless snow his pall,
Let its whiteness cover all,
The dark proofs of many a fall,
As the days rolled on.

Crimson gashes
Hide from sight,
And deeper hued,
Shunning light.

Sorrows that our hearts have known,
Hopes that are forever flown,
Crosses we have borne alone,
As the days rolled on.

Welcome in the new-born year,
Though we see but dimly here,
There is One who seeth clear
As the days roll on.

Time brings changes,
Joys and cares,
Stealing on us
Unawares.

Bring this new year what it may,
Sweet or bitter, night or day,
It full soon shall flee away,
And the days roll on.

Love is living, faith is strong, —
Be the hours or swift or long,
Still they chant their morning song
As the days roll on.

Isabella M. Mortimer.




A QUIET NIGHT.

So still the starry night, I almost fear
My mortal tread, lest I should put to flight
A fairy that, for sometime of the year,
Holds court in this old garden by the night.
The flow'rs are broad awake: for very truth
On this forsaken ground enchantment dwells,
Such as may breathless hold an am'rous youth,
Who seeks at dead of night for lover spells,
With anxious, fearful heart in haunted dells.

I will not walk, but sit upon this seat,
That I may see, and hear, and no noise make;
In time gone by how many gentle feet
Strayed hitherward to rest for dear love's sake?
Brave, bright-eyed youths, and many a gentle maid
Came, haply, here in June or autumn cold,
Leaving the great hall by the portal's shade
To tell a tale that even then was old —
How oft at this seat has the tale been told?
 
The growing things, it seems, have eyes to see;
They softly shake their heads, but make no moan;
It may be they are whispering of me,
And wond'ring why I wandered here alone.
I am not waiting for a partner; no,
You need not point at me for that; the hall
Is rank with ruin; lovers do not go
To feast together at the baron's call,
For years they have been dead and buried, all.

How silent! how bewilderingly calm!
How strange in such a place to be alone!
The big owl on the bough is fixed by charm;
The cat sits on the wall still as a stone:
Listen! the nightingale ! Oh, what a thrill
Of glory falls on all fair things around!
Now know I why this place has been so still;
The fairies have shut out all grosser sound
To hear your song in this old garden-ground.

All The Year Round.




"WITH PIPE AND FLUTE."

With pipe and flute the rustic Pan
Of old made music sweet to man,
And wonder hushed the warbling bird,
And closelier drew the calm-eyed herd, —
The rolling river slowlier ran.

Ah! would, ah! would, a little span,
Some air of Arcady could fan
This age of ours too seldom stirred
With pipe and flute!
 
But now for gold we plot and plan;
And from Beersheba unto Dan,
An Orpheus' self might walk unheard,
Or find the night-jar's note preferred:
Not so it fared when time began,
With pipe and flute!

Austin Dobson. Examiner.