English

Day came. The light lay cold upon
The tarn, the watching mound.
The rushes like ranged frozen spears
Were still. There was no sound.

But on the high rim of the sky
Two clouds like phantoms fell.
They grew; they moved together like
Two armies terrible.

They met; they broke in fire-split smoke —
A red ball in the sky!
A ball of fire — it raged, and turned

I

Upon the other side of that worn pad
My eye began to weed a poet's soul
Out of the scanty sentences I saved: —
The landmarks of some mood writ out at large
In an epistle to a trusted friend,
The bulk of which having perished, what remained
Showed like some mighty mind that threw its light
On some far period in the dawn of time.

II

" Where shall I plant my foot "; — Starting with doubt,
Or what is kin to doubt — perplexity: —

I

I T chanced while being in that idle mood
When every vagrant object from without,
Through the dim windows which our senses make,
Hath liberty to cast upon the mind
Its shadow, as it passes and is lost,
That I sate toying with a blotting-pad,
And with a thousand thoughts fantastical
Watched the innumerable glancing waves
Upspringing, 'neath the touches of the sun,
Whose fingers swept the playful ocean crests,
And forming in the region of the clouds
A lovely continent of fairy lands,

Ave, Maris Stella

Hail, thou brightest Star of Ocean,
Hail, thou Mother of our God,
Hail, thou Ever-sinless Virgin,
Gateway of the blest abode.
Ave; 'tis an angel's greeting —
Thou didst hear his music sound,
Changing thus the name of Eva —
Shed the gifts of peace around.
Burst the sinner's bonds in sunder;
Pour the day on darkling eyes;
Chase our ills; invoke upon us

Memento, Salutis Auctor.

Author of Grace, sweet Saviour mine,
Remember that thy flesh divine
From the unsullied Virgin came,
In likeness of our mortal frame.
Mother of Love and Mercy mild,
Mother of graces undefiled,
Protect us now from Satan's power,
And take us at life's closing hour.
All glory be to thee, O Lord,
A Virgin's Son, by all adored,
And equal praise for ever greet
The Father and the Paraclete.

O Gloriosa Domina.

O Glorious Lady, throned in light,
Sublime above the starry height,
Whose arms thine own Creator pressed,
A Suckling at thy sacred breast.
Through the dear Blossom of thy womb,
Thou changest hapless Eva's doom;
Through thee to contrite souls is given
An opening to their home in heaven.
Thou art the great King's Portal bright,
The shining Gate of living light;
Come then, ye ransomed nations, sing
The Life Divine 'twas hers to bring.
Mother of Love and Mercy mild,

Queen terra, pontus, aethera.

Whom earth and sea and sky proclaim
The Ruler of their triple frame,
He, unto whom their praises rise,
Within the womb of Mary lies.
Her womb, the seat of every grace,
Is now the Lord's abiding place;
That Lord to whom the sun by day,
The moon by night, their homage pay.
O happy Mother that thou art,
Close underneath thy beating heart
Lies the Creator-God, who planned
The world he holds within his hand.
Blest by the herald-angel's tongue,

Thee, May and Mother, I entreat
That, by thine intercession sweet,
From out my mouth a truthful lore
In verses smoothly wrought may pour;
That, from my lips both soft and bright,
As if in glowing gold bedight,
The words proclaimed of old may ring;
To God that gift I needs must bring.


This Mary is our Mother bright,
With honour decked, a Flower of might,
And bloometh like a ruddy rose,
Which by a living fountain grows;
A fragrant Root of lowliness;
A Ray of the Spirit's holiness;

FOURTH PART .

B Y distance, absence, Home in view,
Its every charm was heighten'd,
Though Winter, with a silver vest,
Its lordly cliffs had whiten'd.

Now Prudence, who, with precepts blest,
Had Owen's days directed;
To cheer his friends, and gladden home,
Her little hoards collected.

And Memory, too, was all alive,
Her every cell exploring;

THIRD PART .

And sudden on his comrade crew,
Rush'd bands of ruffian sailors;
What once were Britain's generous tars
Were now — degraded jailors.

O! Britain, sure no parent thou,
If thus thy sons are treated;
Thou, that on ocean's proudest car,
By their brave arms art seated!

Repentant, clasp them to thy heart,
With warmth maternal cherish;