Lays from the West - Part 9
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Part 9

The Hand that led Youth's steps aright, The Love that blessed its careless hours-- Shall they not strengthen for the fight, Then wreathe the Victor's brow with flowers?

Yes! and ere from these scenes I go, I've learned what all must come to know-- Earth's wisdom is but empty show-- "The child shall teach the man!"

IDOL WORSHIP.

Idol worship in these later ages, When the light of learning shines so clear, Golden sayings graved on million pages-- Wisdom's voices sounding far and near.

Idol worship, subtle and deceiving, Lives mis-spent and talents thrown away; Grim remorse, and after years of grieving-- Skeletons that haunt us night and day.

Idols have we manifold in number-- Idols worshipped both in age and youth; Visions that beguile life's fitful slumber, Soul-destroying, blinding us to truth.

All unreal dreams that fade and perish, Painted idols, rich in gilded shrines-- Airy phantoms that we blindly cherish, Clad in borrowed tints from Fancy's mines.

All the shining, glittering, worthless splendour-- All the brilliance of the earthly toy That we deck with careful hands and tender, Is not gold, but dross and foul alloy.

Earth-born idols, lovely but in seeming, Flitting round us in the moonlight hours On Love's holy shrine we place them dreaming, "Though all else may leave us, _this_ is ours!"

Oh! like meteor-flashings gleaming only Through the far-off vapours, dense and dark, Disappearing, leaves, misled and lonely 'Mid the angry waves, the storm-beat bark.

So our earthly idols, vain, deceiving, Come with promise fair for future years; Fill us with false hopes, forsake us, leaving Nought but memory's torture, gloom and tears.

Oh! may we, their many tempting scorning From earth's sceptres lift our yearning sigh To fadeless flowers the heavenly hills adorning That shall be ours when we have gained the high.

Not the joy whose end is gloom and sadness-- Withering flowers that deck the earthly sod Patience hath her crown--eternal gladness-- By the living "hid with Christ in G.o.d."

IN WINTER DAYS.

Spring, and Summer-time, and Autumn Now are flown- Dreamy noontides--mellow sunsets-- Balmy twilights--all are gone!

Hope's bright visions, carmine-tinted, Where are they?

Dreams that mocked us in the sunlight Now in Winter pa.s.s'd away.

Joy shall reign when Spring returning Wakes the flowers That the tender Earth has guarded Safely thro' the Winter hours;

But the sad winds round me sighing Seem to sing She hath treasures in her bosom That she cannot yield in Spring!

And I weep in yearning sadness, Worse than vain, For the vanished joys that Summer Ne'er can bring to me again!

PARTED.

Slow lingering months with swifter pace move on-- Let this dark winter of my life be past; This cloud athwart the sky of summer thrown-- Whose gloom and darkness on my heart is cast.

Parted--Death's deep, dark river rolls between; Those talks and rambled when the day was done And now among the things that once have been, And I am left in sadness here alone!

Parted! Oh, me, he is for ever gone!

How hopeless _now_ the sunset's golden ray; How far off seem those joys we both have known, How cheerless look the paths we used to stray!

Just when the autumn days grew short and chill, When all its sunny hours seemed past and o'er, And moaning winds swept wildly o'er the hill, Like some sere leaf he fell, to rise no more.

The spring shall come, and leaves grow green again, And vernal beauty to the earth return; Sunshine and flowers shall deck the hill and plane, And birds awake with song to greet the morn.

But he has flown far from our wintry sphere, Where fadeless summer glads the spring-bright clime; Not where the tempest clouds spread grief and fear, But safely moored beyond the waves of time!

Mine is the weeping--his the blissful change; Mine is the waiting--his the sighed-for peace; Mine through these dreary, lingering years to range, until I find a land where partings cease.

RETROSPECTIVE.

I'm free from the city's noises now, And the city cares that bound me; I chase their shadows off my brow, 'Mid the rural scenes around me.

And alone in the shadowy evening light, In the deepening gloom and sadness, I roam the paths of past delight Of youth's wild dream of gladness.

I see the panorama vast That to these eyes is giving The joyous scenes of that dead past Still in my bosom living.

I call those thoughts and memories back That stern-faced Toil has banished, And wander o'er the beaten track Of happy days long vanished.

The friends of youth for whom I sigh-- The true and tender-hearted; The happiness of days gone by, The pleasures long departed:

I see them all again to-night, They seem to come and linger Like pictures traced in truest light By Memory's artist finger.

Those happy times, to me how dear!

Well loved, yet lost for ever; Those forms that I can fancy near, Can they return? Ah, never!

Grim Time's dark shadow of decay Falls on our hopes when brightest; A cloud may dim our sky of May When happy hearts beat lightest.

When golden sunbeams softly fall In light on shrub and flower, E'en then a storm to blight them all May in the distance lour!

But still when evening's shadowy light Steals round in gloom and sadness, I'll feel a thrill of old delight, Of youth's wild dream of gladness!

DUNLUCE.