Legends and Lyrics Volume I Part 7

Hark to the voice of the wind!

It has swept through the gloomy forest, Where the sledge was urged to its speed, Where the howling wolves were rus.h.i.+ng On the track of the panting steed.

Where the pool was black and lonely, It caught up a splash and a cry-- Only the bleak sky heard it, And the wind as it hurried by.

Hark to the voice of the wind!

Then throw more logs on the fire, Since the air is bleak and cold, And the children are drawing nigher, For the tales that the wind has told.

So closer and closer gather Round the red and crackling light; And rejoice (while the wind is blowing) We are safe and warm to-night.

Hark to the voice of the wind!

VERSE: TREASURES

Let me count my treasures, All my soul holds dear, Given me by dark spirits Whom I used to fear.

Through long days of anguish, And sad nights, did Pain Forge my s.h.i.+eld, Endurance, Bright and free from stain!

Doubt, in misty caverns, 'Mid dark horrors sought, Till my peerless jewel, Faith to me she brought.

Sorrow, that I wearied Should remain so long, Wreathed my starry glory, The bright Crown of Song.

Strife, that racked my spirit, Without hope or rest, Left the blooming flower, Patience, on my breast.

Suffering, that I dreaded, Ignorant of her charms, Laid the fair child, Pity, Smiling, in my arms.

So I count my treasures, Stored in days long past-- And I thank the givers, Whom I know at last!

VERSE: s.h.i.+NING STARS

s.h.i.+ne, ye stars of heaven, On a world of pain!

See old Time destroying All our h.o.a.rded gain; All our sweetest flowers, Every stately shrine, All our hard-earned glory, Every dream divine!

s.h.i.+ne, ye stars of heaven, On the rolling years!

See how Time, consoling, Dries the saddest tears, Bids the darkest storm-clouds Pa.s.s in gentle rain; While upspring in glory, Flowers and dreams again!

s.h.i.+ne, ye stars of heaven, On a world of fear!

See how Time, avenging, Bringeth judgment here; Weaving ill-won honours To a fiery crown; Bidding hard hearts perish; Casting proud hearts down.

s.h.i.+ne, ye stars of heaven, On the hours' slow flight!

See how Time, rewarding, Gilds good deeds with light; Pays with kingly measure; Brings earth's dearest prize; Or, crowned with rays diviner, Bids the end arise!

VERSE: WAITING

"Wherefore dwell so sad and lonely, By the desolate sea-sh.o.r.e, With the melancholy surges Beating at your cottage door?

"You shall dwell beside the castle Shadowed by our ancient trees; And your life shall pa.s.s on gently, Cared for, and in rest and ease."

"Lady, one who loved me dearly Sailed for distant lands away; And I wait here his returning Hopefully from day to day.

"To my door I bring my spinning, Watching every s.h.i.+p I see; Waiting, hoping, till the sunset Fades into the western sea.

"After sunset, at my cas.e.m.e.nt, Still I place a signal light; He will see its well-known s.h.i.+ning Should his s.h.i.+p return at night.

"Lady, see your infant smiling, With its flaxen curling hair-- I remember when your mother Was a baby just as fair.

"I was watching then, and hoping: Years have brought great change to all; To my neighbours in their cottage, To you n.o.bles at the hall.

"Not to me--for I am waiting, And the years have fled so fast, I must look at you to tell me That a weary time has past!

"When I hear a footstep coming On the s.h.i.+ngle--years have fled-- Yet amid a thousand others, I shall know his quick, light tread.

"When I hear (to-night it may be) Some one pausing at my door, I shall know the gay soft accents, Heard and welcomed oft before!

"So each day I am more hopeful, He may come before the night: Every sunset I feel surer He must come ere morning light.

"Then I thank you, n.o.ble lady, But I cannot do your will: Where he left me, he must find me.

Waiting, watching, hoping, still!"

VERSE: THE CRADLE SONG OF THE POOR

Hus.h.!.+ I cannot bear to see thee Stretch thy tiny hands in vain; Dear, I have no bread to give thee, Nothing, child, to ease thy pain!

When G.o.d sent thee first to bless me, Proud, and thankful too, was I; Now, my darling I, thy mother, Almost long to see thee die.

Sleep, my darling, thou art weary; G.o.d is good, but life is dreary.

I have watched thy beauty fading, And thy strength sink day by day; Soon, I know, will Want and Fever Take thy little life away.

Famine makes thy father reckless, Hope has left both him and me; We could suffer all, my baby, Had we but a crust for thee.

Sleep, my darling, thou art weary; G.o.d is good, but life is dreary.

Better thou shouldst perish early, Starve so soon, my darling one, Than in helpless sin and sorrow Vainly live, as I have done.

Better that thy angel spirit With my joy, my peace, were flown, Than thy heart grew cold and careless, Reckless, hopeless, like my own.

Sleep, my darling, thou art weary; G.o.d is good, but life is dreary.

I am wasted, dear, with hunger, And my brain is all opprest, I have scarcely strength to press thee, Wan and feeble, to my breast.

Patience, baby, G.o.d will help us, Death will come to thee and me, He will take us to his Heaven, Where no want or pain can be.

Sleep, my darling, thou art weary; G.o.d is good, but life is dreary.