John Bradford: Verses about Time

The painful hour too fast is nearing
When I must leave the scenes of old,
And lose all friendship's joys endearing,
Without which life is drear and cold ;
But often when I'm far away,
To them and you my thoughts will fly,
For long elsewhere they could not stay :
Good bye, old friends, good bye !

I leave youth's haunts with sad emotion y
And never while on earth I dwell.
My heart shall lose its deep devotion
For hill-top high and leafy dell ;
And those I lov'd in early youth
Enshrin'd within my heart shall lie,
And claim old age's steadfast truth :
Good bye, old friends, good bye ;
And claim old age's stedfast truth ;
Good bye, old friends, good bye !

I'm growing old, I'm growing old,
My hair is ting'd with gray ;
In search of pleasure, fame, and gold,
I've worn my life away ;
And standing on a foreign shore,
I gaze o'er ocean's foam.
And ponder on the days of yore,
When we were young at home.

I see again, in Fancy's realm,
The homestead by the gorge,
And, down below the ivied elm,
I hear the roaring forge ;
While fondly on the hilla I gaze
O'er which we used to roam.
In buoyant youth's unclouded days.
When we were young at home.

I see again the old fireside,
Where tale, and dance, and tune.
Made winter's long dark ereniaga glide
Away from us too soon ;
And hear the old familiar lays
Come floating o'er the foam,
My siflters sang in bygone days,
When we were young at home.

And could I but recall youth's time.
Bring back its joys anew,
I would not leave my native clime
Such phantoms to pursue ;
For in a long and gay career.
Beyond the ocean's foam,
My heart has known no joys so dear,
Aa those it knew at home.

Come to the Wyeside ! come with me !
Unhappy here thou canst but be ;
For gentle hearts abhor the strife
That is in towns for ever rife.

The scenes around the peaceful grange
Have undergone but little change
Since years ago thou leftist thy home,
By false ambition lur'd to roam.

The churchyard has a few more graves,
O'er most of which the long grass waves ;
But some there are, all fair with flowers.
Which bloom above lost friends of ours.

The path is stopped through Beechwood dell,
For strangers now st. Beechwood dwell,
And down beside the village pool
No more thou'lt see the village school.

But still thou'lt hear the rippling rills ;
And still thou'lt see the tree-clad hills ;
For Nature's charms are now as fair
As when we roam'd in childhood there.

The Wye is still as pure a stream
As when thereby we lov'd to dream
The day-dreams bright of bygone years.
Unconscious that they'd end in tears.

Come, then, with me, and, as of old,
A sister's arms shall thee enfold ;
And smiles of love shall chase away
The cares that on thy sad heart prey.

When Spring in peerless beauty reigns,
We'll rove the flower-enamell'd plains
By thee so lov'd and deem'd so fair,
Ere thy young heart knew aught of care.

In Summer's heat the hills we'll scale.
And on their tops the breeze inhale
That coolly comes from greenwood dells,
Where morning's freshness longest dwells.

In Winter's dark and stormy nights
We'll draw from books those pure delights,
Which they who seek may always find,
Where wit and wisdom lie enshrin'd.

I'll sing thee, too, thy boyhood's songs,
Till thoughts of old come back in throngs ;
And thou wilt marvel thou could'st stray
From home, and friends, and me away.

Come to the Wyeside, then, with me.
And I a home will make for thee.
Where feignless love and stainless truth
Shall bring thee back the peace of youth.

THE QUESTION.

DEAR to the bright cerulean sky
Unstirr'd the silvery cloudlets lie ;
O'er yonder wide, unruffl'd bay
The white-sail'd ships can make no way;
No rustling from the sedges near
Falls on the loitering listener's ear ;
From the old cottage in the croft
Straightly ascends the smoke aloft ;
The spreading oak, the silver birch.
The yew beside the village church,
And the tall pine upon the hill.
Are all at rest—serenely still ;
No zephyrs o'er the meadows pass
With balmy breath to fan the grass,
Or raise a ripple on the river ;
Why, aspen, then, dost thou still quiver?

THE ANSWER.

O'er eighteen hundred years ago,
Where Jordan's amber waters flow,
Green, graceful, calm, and fair to view,
My ruthless old forefathers grew ;
But, on a morn of spring-tide bright.
When, from the blue unclouded sky,
The sun shone down with dazzling light.
Inviting flowers of varied dye
Their fragile petals to unfold.
And glad the bees that rov'd the plains,
Filling the birds with joy untold,
The air with their melodious strains ;
Wiling the adder from its lair,
And making all Creation's face,
From high hill's top to rough rock's base,
Bright, peaceful, smiling, calm, and fair ;
Up Jordan's vale an angel flew,
Array'd in robes of lily hue,
Exclaiming, as she wing'd her way.
In accents fraught with dire dismay :—
' Weep, flocks and herds ;
Weep, beasts and birds ;
Weep, flowers and trees ;
Weep, adders and bees ;
Weep, insects small ;
Weep, creatures all ;
And let the joys you hold most dear
Give place to wonder, woe, and fear ;
For now, with insult, blow, and curse,
The God of all the Universe
By ruthless men, with impious zest,
Is being led
His blood to shed
On Calvary's gore-encrimson'd crest.'
Soon as these words of woe were said,
The flocks and herds no longer fed ;
The coney sought the loneliest dell ;
The bee forsook the floret's bell ;
The adder sought its lair again ;
No wild bird's song swept o'er the plain ;
No insect hummed its tiny strain ;
The flowers, rich in scent and hue,
Their beauties from the gaze withdrew ;
And every shrub and tree that grew,
Excepting my forefathers proud,
In fear and awe their branches bow'd ;
But they, on selfish joys intent,
With every breeze that through them went.
Still sported on without a pause ;
And in the waves that by them passed
With guilty pride their beauty glass'd.
As if of grief they had no cause.
But soon the sun its beams withdrew,
And such a gloom o'er earth was thrown,
As until then had ne'er been known—
Veiling all things around from view.
And while the lightning lit the air
With lurid and appalling glare ;
While the loud thunder, peal on peal,
Made the old hills' foundations reel ;
While the strong earthquake's mighty shocks
Asunder rent the hoary rocks ;
And those who in their graves had lain
Were seen to tread the earth again ;
In sap and fibre, bough and spray.
They felt a thrill of fear and pain ;
And when the darkness cleared away,
And Nature's face grew fair again.
The victims of remorse and grief
They trembling stood in every leaf ;
And since that day of anguish deep,
Not for the space of one brief hour
Have their descendants had the power
A single leaf at rest to keep ;
And thus, until the end of time,
They'll mourn for their forefathers' crime.