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Read Ebook: Borth Lyrics by Thring Edward Dalziel Edward Engraver Dalziel George Engraver Rossiter Charles Illustrator
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Ebook has 85 lines and 8824 words, and 2 pages
Now within the coronet of mountains And the sea-fringed margin of the west Nature's thoughts are stirring, gusts of passion Ruffle the embroidery on her breast.
Far away a trouble on the waters 'Gins to whiten, then a living veil Drops down from the sky, black gleam the headlands, Gleam the hills through drifts of shadowy trail.
And the weird wild freedom of the marshland Stretches, breadths on breadths of level gold, Where the storm-scuds wander, and the rainbow In the midst lets fall its glittering hold.
Broad, bright plain, free wanderland of fancy, Robed in colours, all the sun can weave Out of silver seas, and hill-sides glooming, Molten in the ruddy fires of eve,
Cloth of gold from sands, and silken tissue Spun from the blue distance, threads of white Shot through by the rivers, crimson buddings Of the oak groves flushed with spring delight.
He on whom the deep eyes once have turned their Hidden splendours, be he where he will, Evermore a prophet's dream enfolding, Walks with yearnings which he ne'er can fill.
FAIRIES all, whoever ran Pell-mell from smoke-witted man, Scared from haunted well and tree Fairy mermaidens to be, Colonists of fairy sea; Empire found, and perils o'er, Soon ye peeped out on the shore, Frolic-bold as heretofore; Village green and woodland spells Lightly changed for shells O, shells! Your sea besoms twice a day Swish, and swirl, and hissing spray, Brush all mortal taint away. Twice a day the saucy waves, Heads bent low, your merry slaves, Tumble in of shells a store From the sea-king's palace floor. On a day remembered well, Never butterfly befell Brighter bursting from his cell, Picked we the first fairy shell. Time his hinge had backward swung, Youth and Age together sprung In a world where all was young. Age was young and Youth as old, Age and Youth, two children bold, Caught old Time with potent spells, Magic words of shells O, shells! Shells--the very air did seem Opening into some bright dream, And an unseen gladness swept All around us as we stept. Miles of hope before us lay, Golden, glistening sheets of day, With a sea-charm washed alway, Fairy-sprinkled! who could tell? Every yard might give its shell; Little Cockles' pearly sheen, Chariot fit for fairy queen, Pectens, dipped in colours won From the rays slipped off the sun In the waves, when day is done. Here a ripple in and out Mocking whirls the Cones about, Brings them to our fingers, then Laughs, and swings them off again. There a dark line softly lies Rich in promise 'neath the skies; Happy he foredoomed to burst On that fairy treasure first, Ere assailed by foot accurst, Or the jealous, tricksy sea Rushing catch him to the knee, And with slow malicious glee Gently suck it back; ah me! Shells O, shells! the slanted hail, Thunder-driven, blind, and pale, Beat on rovers bent, subdued, Each apart in solitude, Nursing his own woeful mood. Lo! a shell bank--at the cry Sunshine flashed along the sky, Reckless-bright each sunny eye Glistened, on the spoil they fly, Cockles, Mactras, Artemis, Pectens, unknown shapes of bliss, Turritella, Tellens frail, Orphans, delicate and pale, Newly risen from the sea Peerless Venus Chione. Such a ring was never seen Glancing coy on minstrel's een In the sweetest, shyest gloom Of the young world's maiden bloom, Ere the tender dew had died Hopeless, on the mountain-side, And away the fairies hied. Where the fairies hied would'st know? To the printless margin go, Where sea besoms twice a day Swish, and swirl, and hissing spray, Purge all mortal taint away, There the fairy children play.
HOW softly leading upward, the green slope Leans 'gainst the southern sky, And restful feet have reached the top before They know they are so high.
E'en so, up from the levels of the week, In its own quiet air, Enthroned within a more ethereal blue, The Sunday rises fair.
And ofttimes, as GOD'S peace from church and field Upon their spirit lay, A happy group down set made all their own That gracious place and day.
Far down the shadowy tracts of gleaming sand Seemed melting from the eye, And all the busy week, a few dark specks, Which sight could scarce descry.
The small waves chattered all along the shore; But with low pleading sweet The billows crept up to the tall black rocks, And clasped their giant feet.
And there in talk, or silence dearer still, They let their hearts go free, In that sweet confidence, which nothing asks But being still to be.
The sea discourses to them, or they launch On summer clouds, that throw A purple mantle wrought in peaceful skies On dreaming waves below.
And gathering up the light of the great plain, A web of colours rare, They blend them, as they look, with fancies meet, And peace of upper air,
Till where the river 'twixt the distant hills Leads up into the skies, In that fair borderland of earth and heaven The changeful glory lies.
Whoso within that dreamy circle sits, For him abideth still The calm of upper air, the magic light That hill sends on to hill.
SALT, and sand, and rocking wave, Salt, and sand, and sky, All ye had to give ye gave, But--good bye, good bye. Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass, And the ivy that clings to the wall; Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass, And the oak, and the ash-tree tall.
Rocking wave, and mountain bold, Bright air, free to roam, Say not that our hearts are cold; Oh! but--home is home. Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass, And the ivy that clings to the wall; Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass, And the oak, and the ash-tree tall.
Smoothest turf, a sunshine floor, Dance of cricket ball, Studies, where we shut the door On our cosy all. Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass, And the ivy that clings to the wall; Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass, And the oak, and the ash-tree tall.
Grey old school-house, consecrate On thy hill afar, Chapel, keeping solemn state-- Home we go, hurrah! Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass, And the ivy that clings to the wall; Hey, the robin, the lark, and the green green grass, And the oak, and the ash-tree tall.
TO him, who wounded turned aside, It mattered little that he died In sunshine, in the fair springtide.
On many a grave the flowers are gay, Oft ruin creeping on his prey Puts forth a velvet paw in play.
O Flags, ye wrap within your fold A stranger tale than e'er was told Of Muses' sons in days of old.
The homeless school, of fortune braved, Will aye remember how ye waved Above them, in the hour that saved.
As long as youth breathes living fire, As long as scorn is on the liar, And men can mount from high to higher.
Rest in the school-room, rest, and be A spirit moving calm and free, A silent flame of liberty.
Say, peace more stern than war demands Devotion purer, cleaner hands, Life larger, foot that firmer stands.
Bid Hope his thrilling clarion blow, And fearless truth in boyhood glow, And honour send him on his foe.
So life shall foster life, each son Still better what his sire hath done, And truth from truth full circle run.
FOOTNOTES.
Gogerddan, the seat of Sir Pryse Pryse, Bart.
The river at Borth.
Taliesin, the great Welsh Bard, buried on a hill overlooking the plain of Borth.
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