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Procter Adelaide Anne
Legends and Lyrics. Part 1
VERSE: A CROWN OF SORROW
A Sorrow, wet with early tears
Yet bitter, had been long with me;
I wearied of this weight of years,
And would be free.
I tore my Sorrow from my heart,
I cast it far away in scorn;
Right joyful that we two could part —
Yet most forlorn.
I sought, (to take my Sorrow’s place,)
Over the world for flower or gem —
But she had had an ancient grace
Unknown to them.
I took once more with strange delight
My slighted Sorrow; proudly now,
I wear it, set with stars of light,
Upon my brow.
VERSE: THE LESSON OF THE WAR (1855)
The feast is spread through England
For rich and poor to-day;
Greetings and laughter may be there,
But thoughts are far away;
Over the stormy ocean,
Over the dreary track,
Where some are gone, whom England
Will never welcome back.
Breathless she waits, and listens
For every eastern breeze
That bears upon its bloody wings
News from beyond the seas.
The leafless branches stirring
Make many a watcher start;
The distant tramp of steed may send
A throb from heart to heart.
The rulers of the nation,
The poor ones at their gate,
With the same eager wonder
The same great news await.
The poor man’s stay and comfort,
The rich man’s joy and pride,
Upon the bleak Crimean shore
Are fighting side by side.
The bullet comes – and either
A desolate hearth may see;
And God alone to-night knows where
The vacant place may be!
The dread that stirs the peasant
Thrills nobles’ hearts with fear —
Yet above selfish sorrow
Both hold their country dear.
The rich man who reposes
In his ancestral shade,
The peasant at his ploughshare,
The worker at his trade,
Each one his all his perilled,
Each has the same great stake,
Each soul can but have patience,
Each heart can only break!
Hushed is all party clamour;
One thought in every heart,
One dread in every household,
Has bid such strife depart.
England has called her children;
Long silent – the word came
That lit the smouldering ashes
Through all the land to flame.
Oh you who toil and suffer,
You gladly heard the call;
But those you sometimes envy
Have they not given their all?
Oh you who rule the nation,
Take now the toil-worn hand —
Brothers you are in sorrow,
In duty to your land.
Learn but this noble lesson
Ere Peace returns again,
And the life-blood of Old England
Will not be shed in vain.
VERSE: THE TWO SPIRITS (1855)
Last night, when weary silence fell on all,
And starless skies arose so dim and vast,
I heard the Spirit of the Present call
Upon the sleeping Spirit of the Past.
Far off and near, I saw their radiance shine,
And listened while they spoke of deeds divine.
The Spirit of the Past.
My deeds are writ in iron;
My glory stands alone;
A veil of shadowy honour
Upon my tombs is thrown;
The great names of my heroes
Like gems in history lie;
To live they deemed ignoble,
Had they the chance to die!
The Spirit of the Present.
My children, too, are honoured;
Dear shall their memory be
To the proud lands that own them;
Dearer than thine to thee;
For, though they hold that sacred
Is God’s great gift of life,
At the first call of duty
They rush into the strife!
The Spirit of the Past.
Then, with all valiant precepts
Woman’s soft heart was fraught;
“Death, not dishonour,” echoed
The war-cry she had taught.
Fearless and glad, those mothers,
At bloody deaths elate,
Cried out they bore their children
Only for such a fate!
The Spirit of the Present.
Though such stern laws of honour
Are faded now away,
Yet many a mourning mother,
With nobler grief than they,
Bows down in sad submission:
The heroes of the fight
Learnt at her knee the lesson,
“For God and for the Right!”
The Spirit of the Past.
No voice there spake of sorrow:
They saw the noblest fall
With no repining murmur;
Stern Fate was lord of all.
And when the loved ones perished,
One cry alone arose,
Waking the startled echoes,
“Vengeance upon our foes!”
The Spirit of the Present.
Grief dwells in France and England
For many a noble son;
Yet louder than the sorrow,
“Thy will, Oh God, be done!”
From desolate homes is rising
One prayer, “Let carnage cease!
On friends and foes have mercy,
Oh Lord, and give us peace!”
The Spirit of the Past.
Then, every hearth was honoured
That sent its children forth,
To spread their country’s glory,
And gain her south or north.
Then, little recked they numbers,
No band would ever fly,
But stern and resolute they stood
To conquer or to die.
The Spirit of the Present.
And now from France and England
Their dearest and their best
Go forth to succour freedom,
To help the much oppressed;
Now, let the far-off Future
And Past bow down to-day,
Before the few young hearts that hold
Whole armaments at bay.
The Spirit of the Past.
Then, each one strove for honour,
Each for a deathless name;
Love, home, rest, joy, were offered
As sacrifice to Fame.
They longed that in far ages
Their deeds might still be told,
And distant times and nations
Their names in honour hold.
The Spirit of the Present.
Though nursed by such old legends,
Our heroes of to-day
Go cheerfully to battle
As children go to play;
They gaze with awe and wonder
On your great names of pride,
Unconscious that their own will shine
In glory side by side!
Day dawned; and as the Spirits passed away,
Methought I saw, in the dim morning grey,
The Past’s bright diadem had paled before
The starry crown the glorious Present wore.
VERSE: A LITTLE LONGER
A little longer yet – a little longer,
Shall violets bloom for thee, and sweet birds sing;
And the lime branches where soft winds are blowing,
Shall murmur the sweet promise of the Spring!
A little longer yet – a little longer,
Thou shalt behold the quiet of the morn;
While tender grasses and awakening flowers
Send up a golden mist to greet the dawn!
A little longer yet – a little longer,
The tenderness of twilight shall be thine,
The rosy clouds that float o’er dying daylight,
Nor fade till trembling stars begin to shine.
A little longer yet – a little longer,
Shall starry night be beautiful for thee;
And the cold moon shall look through the blue silence,
Flooding her silver path upon the sea.
A little longer yet – a little longer,
Life shall be thine; life with its power to will;
Life with its strength to bear, to love, to conquer,
Bringing its thousand joys thy heart to fill.
A little longer yet – a little longer,
The voices thou hast loved shall charm thine ear;
And thy true heart, that now beats quick to hear them,
A little longer yet shall hold them dear.
A little longer yet – joy while thou mayest;
Love and rejoice! for time has nought in store;
And soon the darkness of the grave shall bid thee
Love and rejoice and feel and know no more.
* * *
A little longer still – Patience, Belovèd:
A little longer still, ere Heaven unroll
The Glory, and the Brightness, and the Wonder,
Eternal, and divine, that waits thy Soul!
A little longer ere Life true, immortal,
(Not this our shadowy Life,) will be thine own;
And thou shalt stand where winged Archangels worship,
And trembling bow before the Great White Throne.
A little longer still, and Heaven awaits thee,
And fills thy spirit with a great delight;
Then our pale joys will seem a dream forgotten,
Our Sun a darkness, and our Day a Night.
A little longer, and thy Heart, Belovèd,
Shall beat for ever with a Love divine;
And joy so pure, so mighty, so eternal,
No creature knows and lives, will then be thine.
A little longer yet – and angel voices
Shall ring in heavenly chant upon thine ear;
Angels and Saints await thee, and God needs thee:
Belovèd, can we bid thee linger here!
VERSE: GRIEF
An ancient enemy have I,
And either he or I must die;
For he never leaveth me,
Never gives my soul relief,
Never lets my sorrow cease,
Never gives my spirit peace —
For mine enemy is Grief!
Pale he is, and sad and stern;
And whene’er he cometh nigh,
Blue and dim the torches burn,
Pale and shrunk the roses turn;
While my heart that he has pierced
Many a time with fiery lance,
Beats and trembles at his glance:
Clad in burning steel is he,
All my strength he can defy;
For he never leaveth me —
And one of us must die!
I have said, “Let ancient sages
Charm me from my thoughts of pain!”
So I read their deepest pages,
And I strove to think – in vain!
Wisdom’s cold calm words I tried,
But he was seated by my side: -
Learning I have won in vain;
She cannot rid me of my pain.
When at last soft sleep comes o’er me,
A cold hand is on my heart;
Stern sad eyes are there before me;
Not in dreams will he depart:
And when the same dreary vision
From my weary brain has fled,
Daylight brings the living phantom,
He is seated by my bed,
Bending o’er me all the while,
With his cruel, bitter smile,
Ever with me, ever nigh; —
And either he or I must die!
Then I said, long time ago,
“I will flee to other climes,
I will leave mine ancient foe!”
Though I wandered far and wide —
Still he followed at my side.
And I fled where the blue waters
Bathe the sunny isles of Greece;
Where Thessalian mountains rise
Up against the purple skies;
Where a haunting memory liveth
In each wood and cave and rill;
But no dream of gods could help me —
He went with me still!
I have been where Nile’s broad river
Flows upon the burning sand;
Where the desert monster broodeth,
Where the Eastern palm-trees stand;
I have been where pathless forests
Spread a black eternal shade;
Where the lurking panther hiding
Glares from every tangled glade;
But in vain I wandered wide,
He was always by my side!
Then I fled where snows eternal
Cold and dreary ever lie;
Where the rosy lightnings gleam,
Flashing through the northern sky;
Where the red sun turns again
Back upon his path of pain; —
But a shadowy form was with me —
I had fled in vain!
I have thought, “If I can gaze
Sternly on him he will fade,
For I know that he is nothing
But a dim ideal shade.”
As I gazed at him the more,
He grew stronger than before!
Then I said, “Mine arm is strong,
I will make him turn and flee:”
I have struggled with him long —
But that could never be!
Once I battled with him so
That I thought I laid him low;
Then in trembling joy I fled,
While again and still again
Murmuring to myself I said,
“Mine old enemy is dead!”
And I stood beneath the stars,
When a chill came on my frame,
And a fear I could not name,
And a sense of quick despair,
And, lo! mine enemy was there!
Listen, for my soul is weary,
Weary of its endless woe;
I have called on one to aid me
Mightier even than my foe.
Strength and hope fail day by day;
I shall cheat him of his prey;
Some day soon, I know not when,
He will stab me through and through;
He has wounded me before,
But my heart can bear no more;
Pray that hour may come to me,
Only then shall I be free;
Death alone has strength to take me
Where my foe can never be;
Death, and Death alone, has power
To conquer mine old enemy!
VERSE: THE TRIUMPH OF TIME
The tender delicate Flowers,
I saw them fanned by a warm western wind,
Fed by soft summer showers,
Shielded by care, and yet, (oh Fate unkind!)
Fade in a few short hours.
The gentle and the gay,
Rich in a glorious Future of bright deeds,
Rejoicing in the day,
Are met by Death, who sternly, sadly leads
Them far away.
And Hopes, perfumed and bright,
So lately shining, wet with dew and tears,
Trembling in morning light;
I saw them change to dark and anxious fears
Before the night!
I wept that all must die —
“Yet Love,” I cried, “doth live, and conquer death – ”
And Time passed by,
And breathed on Love, and killed it with his breath
Ere Death was nigh.
More bitter far than all
It was to know that Love could change and die —
Hush! for the ages call
“The Love of God lives through eternity,
And conquers all!”
VERSE: A PARTING
Without one bitter feeling let us part —
And for the years in which your love has shed
A radiance like a glory round my head,
I thank you, yes, I thank you from my heart.
I thank you for the cherished hope of years,
A starry future, dim and yet divine,
Winging its way from Heaven to be mine,
Laden with joy, and ignorant of tears.
I thank you, yes, I thank you even more
That my heart learnt not without love to live,
But gave and gave, and still had more to give,
From an abundant and exhaustless store.
I thank you, and no grief is in these tears;
I thank you, not in bitterness but truth,
For the fair vision that adorned my youth
And glorified so many happy years.
Yet how much more I thank you that you tore
At length the veil your hand had woven away,
Which hid my idol was a thing of clay,
And false the altar I had knelt before.
I thank you that you taught me the stern truth,
(None other could have told and I believed,)
That vain had been my life, and I deceived,
And wasted all the purpose of my youth.
I thank you that your hand dashed down the shrine,
Wherein my idol worship I had paid;
Else had I never known a soul was made
To serve and worship only the Divine.
I thank you that the heart I cast away
On such as you, though broken, bruised and crushed,
Now that its fiery throbbing is all hushed,
Upon a worthier altar I can lay.
I thank you for the lesson that such love
Is a perverting of God’s royal right,
That it is made but for the Infinite,
And all too great to live except above.
I thank you for a terrible awaking,
And if reproach seemed hidden in my pain,
And sorrow seemed to cry on your disdain,
Know that my blessing lay in your forsaking.
Farewell for ever now: – in peace we part;
And should an idle vision of my tears
Arise before your soul in after years —
Remember that I thank you from my heart!
VERSE: THE GOLDEN GATE
Dim shadows gather thickly round, and up the misty stair they climb,
The cloudy stair that upward leads to where the closèd portals shine,
Round which the kneeling spirits wait the opening of the Golden Gate.
And some with eager longing go, still pressing forward, hand in hand,
And some with weary step and slow, look back where their Belovèd stand —
Yet up the misty stair they climb, led onward by the Angel Time.
As unseen hands roll back the doors, the light that floods the very air
Is but the shadow from within, of the great glory hidden there —
And morn and eve, and soon and late, the shadows pass within the gate.
As one by one they enter in, and the stern portals close once more,
The halo seems to linger round those kneeling closest to the door:
The joy that lightened from that place shines still upon the watcher’s face.
The faint low echo that we hear of far-off music seems to fill
The silent air with love and fear, and the world’s clamours all grow still,
Until the portals close again, and leave us toiling on in pain.
Complain not that the way is long – what road is weary that leads there?
But let the Angel take thy hand, and lead thee up the misty stair,
And then with beating heart await, the opening of the Golden Gate.
VERSE: PHANTOMS
Back, ye Phantoms of the Past;
In your dreary caves remain:
What have I to do with memories
Of a long-forgotten pain?
For my Present is all peaceful,
And my Future nobly planned:
Long ago Time’s mighty billows
Swept your footsteps from the sand.
Back into your caves; nor haunt me
With your voices full of woe;
I have buried grief and sorrow
In the depths of Long-ago.
See the glorious clouds of morning
Roll away, and clear and bright
Shine the rays of cloudless daylight —
Wherefore will ye moan of night?
Never shall my heart be burthened
With its ancient woe and fears;
I can drive them from my presence,
I can check these foolish tears.
Back, ye Phantoms; leave, oh leave me
To a new and happy lot;
Speak no more of things departed;
Leave me – for I know ye not.
Can it be that ’mid my gladness
I must ever hear you wail,
Of the grief that wrung my spirit,
And that made my cheek so pale?
Joy is mine; but your sad voices
Murmur ever in mine ear:
Vain is all the Future’s promise,
While the dreary Past is here.
Vain, oh worse than vain, the Visions
That my heart, my life would fill,
If the Past’s relentless phantoms
Call upon me still!
VERSE: THANKFULNESS
My God, I thank Thee who hast made
The Earth so bright;
So full of splendour and of joy,
Beauty and light;
So many glorious things are here,
Noble and right!
I thank Thee, too, that Thou hast made
Joy to abound;
So many gentle thoughts and deeds
Circling us round,
That in the darkest spot of Earth
Some love is found.
I thank Thee more that all our joy
Is touched with pain;
That shadows fall on brightest hours;
That thorns remain;
So that Earth’s bliss may be our guide,
And not our chain.
For Thou who knowest, Lord, how soon
Our weak heart clings,
Hast given us joys, tender and true,
Yet all with wings,
So that we see, gleaming on high,
Diviner things!
I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept
The best in store;
We have enough, yet not too much
To long for more:
A yearning for a deeper peace,
Not known before.
I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls,
Though amply blest,
Can never find, although they seek,
A perfect rest —
Nor ever shall, until they lean
On Jesus’ breast!
VERSE: HOME-SICKNESS
Where I am, the halls are gilded,
Stored with pictures bright and rare;
Strains of deep melodious music
Float upon the perfumed air: -
Nothing stirs the dreary silence
Save the melancholy sea,
Near the poor and humble cottage,
Where I fain would be!
Where I am, the sun is shining,
And the purple windows glow,
Till their rich armorial shadows
Stain the marble floor below: -
Faded Autumn leaves are trembling,
On the withered jasmine tree,
Creeping round the little casement,
Where I fain would be!
Where I am, the days are passing
O’er a pathway strewn with flowers;
Song and joy and starry pleasures
Crown the happy smiling hours: -
Slowly, heavily, and sadly,
Time with weary wings must flee,
Marked by pain, and toil, and sorrow,
Where I fain would be!
Where I am, the great and noble
Tell me of renown and fame,
And the red wine sparkles highest,
To do honour to my name: -
Far away a place is vacant,
By a humble hearth, for me,
Dying embers dimly show it,
Where I fain would be!
Where I am, are glorious dreaminess,
Science, genius, art divine;
And the great minds whom all honour
Interchange their thoughts with mine: -
A few simple hearts are waiting,
Longing, wearying, for me,
Far away where tears are falling,
Where I fain would be!
Where I am, all think me happy,
For so well I play my part,
None can guess, who smile around me,
How far distant is my heart —
Far away, in a poor cottage,
Listening to the dreary sea,
Where the treasures of my life are,
Where I fain would be!
VERSE: WISHES
All the fluttering wishes
Caged within thy heart
Beat their wings against it,
Longing to depart,
Till they shake their prison
With their wounded cry;
Open wide thy heart to-day,
And let the captives fly.
Let them first fly upward
Through the starry air,
Till you almost lose them,
For their home is there;
Then, with outspread pinions,
Circling round and round,
Wing their way, wherever
Want and woe are found.
Where the weary stitcher
Toils for daily bread;
Where the lonely watcher
Watches by her dead;
Where with thin weak fingers,
Toiling at the loom,
Stand the little children,
Blighted ere they bloom.
Where, by darkness blinded,
Groping for the light,
With distorted conscience
Men do wrong for right;
Where, in the cold shadow,
By smooth pleasure thrown,
Human hearts by hundreds
Harden into stone.
Where on dusty highways,
With faint heart and slow,
Cursing the glad sunlight,
Hungry outcasts go:
Where all mirth is silenced,
And the hearth is chill,
For one place is empty,
And one voice is still.
Some hearts will be lighter
While your captives roam
For their tender singing,
Then recal them home;
When the sunny hours
Into night depart,
Softly they will nestle
In a quiet heart.
VERSE: THE PEACE OF GOD
We ask for Peace, oh Lord!
Thy children ask Thy Peace;
Not what the world calls rest,
That toil and care should cease,
That through bright sunny hours
Calm Life should fleet away,
And tranquil night should fade
In smiling day; —
It is not for such Peace that we would pray.
We ask for Peace, oh Lord!
Yet not to stand secure,
Girt round with iron Pride,
Contented to endure:
Crushing the gentle strings
That human hearts should know,
Untouched by others’ joy
Or others’ woe; —
Thou, oh dear Lord, wilt never teach us so.
We ask Thy Peace, oh Lord!
Through storm, and fear, and strife,
To light and guide us on,
Through a long struggling life:
While no success or gain
Shall cheer the desperate fight,
Or nerve, what the world calls,
Our wasted might: -
Yet pressing through the darkness to the light.
It is Thine own, oh Lord,
Who toil while others sleep;
Who sow with loving care
What other hands shall reap:
They lean on Thee entranced,
In calm and perfect rest:
Give us that Peace, oh Lord,
Divine and blest,
Thou keepest for those hearts who love Thee best.
