POETRY.
AT EVERSLEY. THE river rippled in the plain, The larks loud sang above the lane, Through the warm sunny woodland went A rustling whisper of content, And from the leafy distance pealed The morning bells of Arborfield.
A long copse-bordered village street, A corner where the crossways meet, A tranquil place where nothing stirs The shadow of the rectory firs, A low tower shining in the sun, A gateway reached—our goal is won. Here wandered once by stream and moor A knightly champion of the poor, A Churchman from intolerance free, A priest with no false mystery, Of God and truth a soldier strong.
A lord of story and of song; In reverent power, in moral strife, Here lived he well his strenuous life, Hither his golden dower he brought Of Devon nerve and kindling thought; By human feeling—charm of earth • Was touched to tears and moved to mirth; All sights he Saw, all sounds he heard • Fired his fine line, his 'written wOrd*;• Here 14 once gazed
On"the'greelfridge'S-.featheied titivr, Met freedom'on the-mborland'hilli Sought peace beside the brooding -• Knew-the divine in soul -and sod, Natufe- feltAlow Mier Wait -G6d, - - Held high the torch of splendour dim ' • ' '- And vague vast hope,- he-toOk froni him That mind of mystic depth and grace,
His master of the angel face, - And struck more trenchantly than he The notes of light and liberty.
And many a pilgrim led from far By loyal honour's guiding star, As long as time -fleet-footed files, Shall come to look where low he lies In the still valley of his rest, Fit son of the refulgent West; In his alert and radiant mind
A fount of living force fiball find,
And in his worthiest work shall scan The nobler glory of the man.. .
JOSEPH TRUMAN.
Previous page
