Victor Roy, a Masonic Poem Part 4

Within the dwelling of Victor Roy, A fair girl awakens soft music's power, And a woman listens in silent joy, To the thrilling strains at that quiet hour.

"Ethel, my child, cease playing, come to me, There, lean your head upon your mother's knee, Do you remember dear what night this is?

Look back at last St. John's day, then at this, You've often wondered why upon that night, When you my guide led from the gloom to light; That when you gave the name Adair it seemed, To him who heard it, as if he had dreamed.

Like a dim funeral knell from some old chime, Heard years ago, in some far distant clime, Ethel, we should speak kindly of the dead, Unable to defend themselves, their spirits fled To worlds unknown to us, we cannot see The homes they occupy, the destiny It pleases G.o.d to give them, this we know That our reaping must be what we sow, If we plant thistles, we the thorn shall meet, If we sow ripe grains, we shall harvest wheat, And something else we know of future life, That be the memories of war and strife, Of evil thoughts which may have been controlled Of hearts through which wild pa.s.sions unchecked rolled; Of base mean deeds that burn like felon brand, In the pure sunlight of the eternal land; Or if sweet recollections of the past, Of homes where love her golden radiance cast, Of deeds of mercy unto man unknown, But breathing incense to the star-gemmed throne; We know that not one of Adamic race, Is unknown unto Him, the Lord of Grace, And with the thoughts that shape themselves to prayer, We can but leave them in His gracious care, Who, as sharp nails were piercing each vein through, Prayed 'Father forgive, they know not what they do,'

And preached of mercy to the souls in prison, Ere He from the well guarded tomb had risen; So darling think as gently as you may, On one you saw so sadly pa.s.s away.

But duty bids me tell you, deeds of shame, Stamped dark dishonor on our household name, When we were living in the distant west, A trouble came; grief was no stranger guest, For racking fears sad day and anxious night, Seemed to hold life-long leases as their right, The trouble came through some high words at play.

All I know was before noon next day, A letter came bidding me leave that night; Bring what I could and let none know my flight, To change my name, and if need be to swear I never knew 'Montrose' only 'Adair.'

Part truth, part falsehood born of inward shame, That sank the true one for the middle name, I heard that dark red stains ended a strife Began in so-called play, and closed with life.

I know for many months a namless dread, Hung like the sword of Damocles overhead, And we again had crossed the stormy main And hid away among the hills of Spain, But when you were an infant, nurse and I Took you one morning ere the sun was high, And in the little church covered with vines, O'er which the setting sun in glory s.h.i.+nes, We gave you into the good Shepherd's Care Amid our falling tears and Heaven sent prayer; And there without respect to friends or foes, Stands your true name, Ethel Adair Montrose.

My child before you close your eyes to-night, With no forebodings for to-morrow's light, Return your heartfelt thanks to Him whose hand Has led us safely through a desert land, Has kept our feet on many a slippery way, And guided us from midnight to the day, Lay at the Glorious Giver's blessed feet, All that he asks, your time that pa.s.ses fleet, Your heart's first holiest love, your talents give To him who scorned not death, that we may live."

Mother, I'll not forget, To ask rich blessings upon you and him, Whom G.o.d sent as a life boat to the lost, A year ago to-night, when on the dim Dark seas of woe, our bark was tempest toss'd, The sun of hope had set.

I'm glad I went to-day, And laid a cross upon that snow-strewn grave, The sun gleamed out and on the white leaves burned, It seems as if the childhood love, I gave The one that calmly sleeps there, had returned Watch to keep o'er his clay.

And yet it's not the same In quality, the love I cherish now Has more of pity perhaps; another one Has surely right to my allegiance; how Can I forget all he for us has done?

Hark! now he calls my name.

Ethel! where are you, there is the group you were speaking about one day, Do you know the faces, two you love best, then drive those tears away, What is there to cry for child, in a locket that's new and bright, It was to have been your Christmas gift, but it's just as good to-night, It bears the name of the day you came to spoil my dog and cat, My birds and me too I'm afraid, if you say much more like that.

Sing me something instead, it's scarcely supper time yet--my child; I see you are weary, go and rest while these winter winds blow wild, Ethel, before you say 'good night,' we will sing "Abide with me,"

As I heard it twenty-six years ago the night I went to sea.

And softly upon the evening air, The strain of praise from true hearts was given And angels wafted the holy prayer, Like incense up to the throne of Heaven.

"Good night, sweet Ethel," a silence fell Solemn and calm, by no whisper broke, Two sat watching the fire, a spell Seemed holding each, until Victor spoke.

"Of what are you thinking so earnestly, you fancy I know the thought, That has grown to deep for utterance, with strange sad memories fraught, A year, a memorable year ago, yes, we shall ne'er forget, That day of St. John the Evangelist, that night when two old friends met, 'Twas a dreary watching too my love, all that night in solemn gloom, Where the dead lay cold and silently, waiting his lonely tomb, I am glad that Ethel went to-day, and laid a cross on that grave, I am glad that we each can truly say at the judgement day, 'I forgave,'

I read some lines the other day, that may have been written for us, Heart histories repeat themselves like others, the lines ran thus:

"And midnight wearily stole on, Heavy clouds o'er the young moon swept, We looked out upon life and prayed We looked upon the dead and wept, That G.o.d can work while man looks on, That truth will triumph o'er our dread, A lesson sometimes hard to learn, We learnt while watching by the dead.

'Twas not a scene that lovers choose, Did any say that we had loved, The dead was by us, yet we knew, That we were living and beloved, Truth's talisman was on each heart Oh was there sin in what we said, The troubles told, the truth confessed, The night we watched beside the dead."

Aimee, look at this jewel rich, I have worn it the live long day, You think I value it, so I do, yet I deem it worthless clay, Compared with the other jewel rare, this Keystone brought to me, Bright gem, long hidden but not destroyed in some unfathomed sea, More honorable than golden fleece, more precious than the stone, That alchemysts seek vainly for, or gems of a regal crown, A Keystone brought to light once more, all uninjured by the storm, The rains of fire that have swept round my other jewel's form, For the fire doth but clear the dross, the waves but wash the dust, From off the jewels of purest gold, such jewels I hold in trust, For I should have claimed you still as mine, if we never more had met, Till free from stain of sorrow or sin we stand where hope's suns ne'er set, Where angels live on, in their life of love, unchanged yet ever new, And then the time, G.o.d's own right time would have come for my taking you, For this re-union upon earth, is the sign, beloved wife Of the eternal rest we'll share in the bright hereafter life; For have we not a.s.surance blest, that whichever first goes home, Will await with loving patience, till the other one shall come,

Unto those who wear G.o.d's blessed seal upon each united heart, Those words must half their horror lose 'until death do you part,'

For true love doth dissolve death's power, as spring's suns melt the snow, 'Tis the only pa.s.sword at the gates, through which we both must go, Where born of that benevolence which fills our Father's breast, Angelic masons now prepare our special house of rest, G.o.d's promises will never fail, if we but wait His hours, He sends His messages of peace, like His rainbow after showers, O'er one beam of that holy arch, this scroll now seems to glide, "After the dark and dreary day, it shall be light at eventide."

MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.

Mist and Suns.h.i.+ne.

I looked, and the mist had hidden Streamlet and gorge and mountain, Mansion and church had vanished away, No trace of tree or fountain.

Mist, on the roof where birdlings wake The strains of old love stories, Mist, like tears on the roses' cheek, In cups of the morning glories.

"Ah, like life, 'said my heart to me,'

Only a world of sorrow, The lips you love, the hands you clasp, Are cold and strange to-morrow.

Mists on the stream of by-gone days, Where are your childhood bowers?

Mists on the path of coming years.

Where are your household flowers?"

I looked again; a sunbeam bright Had shot through the heavy mist; It drew the rose to its glowing breast, And the morning glories kissed.

The spire of the Ascension Church Flashed out like St. 'Michael's sword, When girt with glowing armor, he Doeth battle for his Lord.

Each moment some high roof or tower, Some flush of the maple leaves, Grew fair to sight, the birdlings sang In nests on the sun-lit eaves; And Nature bathed in living light, As if she renewed her birth, The Universal Father smiled Through his sunbeam, on the earth.

"Ah, now my heart, so sad and cold With mists of its repining, What will thou say to see once more The cloud with silver lining?"

Source of light! when I leave this sphere, Grant me a vision like this, Mists and shadows rolling away From the Paradise of bliss.

May I look thus on mounts of G.o.d, The flash of temple spires, And hear the deathless singers chant From their harmonious lyres; So may I close mine eyes on earth, While heaven's pure light is breaking, And some I know will fold me close, In arms of love awaking.

Charge to the Knight of Malta

_Air--Stephenos_

Lo, a knight in armour standing, Ready for the foe; Thee we greet, belov'd Companion, Thee we know.

Keep thine oath, oh new made soldier, Pledged in heaven's sight; Nor forget the vow thou'st taken, Malta's knight.

By the banner, o'er us waving, By thy lance at rest, Chiefly by that Cross emblazoned On thy breast.

In the heat of danger's trial, Dare the fiercest fight; No desertion, no denial, Right or life!

See thou turn not from the conflict, On the battle field, Though men bear a dying soldier On thy s.h.i.+eld.

Let thy strong arm s.h.i.+eld the helpless, And the feeble save; Mercy's voice the true knight knoweth, And the brave.

Welcome, dear Sir Knight, thrice welcome!

To our tented field; G.o.d will aid us till the final Foe shall yield.

We are pledged unto His kingdom, Who for us hath borne Cross and spear, for us did suffer Crown of thorn.

Then, for Him who rose triumphant To the heavenly Lamp, Gird thy sword though night surround thee, Wild and damp.