CURFEW. I. SOLEMNLY, mournfully, Cover the embers, And put out the light; Dark grow the windows, No voice in the chambers, Reign over all! THE SEASIDE AND THE FIRESIDE DEDICATION. As one who, walking in the twilight gloom, So walking here in twilight, O my friends! I hear your voices, softened by the distance, If any thought of mine, or sung or told, Thanks for the sympathies that ye have shown! Kind messages, that pass from land to land; The pleasant books, that silently among Our household treasures take familiar places, And are to us as if a living tongue Spake from the printed leaves or pictured faces! Perhaps on earth I never shall behold, With eye of sense, your outward form and semblance; Therefore to me ye never will grow old, But live for ever young in my remembrance. Never grow old, nor change, nor pass away! L Not chance of birth or place has made us friends, Being oftentimes of different tongues and nations, But the endeavour for the self-same ends, With the same hopes, and fears, and aspirations. Therefore I hope to join your seaside walk, The grand, majestic symphonies of ocean. Therefore I hope, as no unwelcome guest, At your warm fireside, when the lamps are lighted, To have my place reserved among the rest, Nor stand as one unsought and uninvited! BY THE SEASIDE. THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP. "Build me straight, O worthy Master! And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!" The merchant's word Delighted the Master heard; For his heart was in his work, and the heart Giveth grace unto every art. A quiet smile played round his lips, As the eddies and dimples of the tide That steadily at anchor ride. And with a voice that was full of glee, A vessel as goodly, and strong, and staunch, And first with nicest skill and art, That with a hand more swift and sure The greater labor might be brought And eight round towers, like those that frown And he said with a smile, "Our ship, I wis, It was of another form, indeed; Broad in the beam, that the stress of the blast, In the ship-yard stood the Master, And with wave and whirlwind wrestle! Covering many a rood of ground, Timber of chestnut, and elm, and oak, And the banks of the roaring Roanoke! To note how many wheels of toil One thought, one word, can set in motion! There's not a ship that sails the ocean, But every climate, every soil, Must bring its tribute, great or small, And help to build the wooden wall! |