The Brookhaven ledger. (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1875-1883, 1879-06-19
liferaru.
A Memory.

"A WeutOrys
BY FATHER RYAN.
Adown the valley dripped astream,
White lilies drooped on either side;
Our hearts, in spite of us, will dream
In such place. at Eventide.
Bright wavelets wore the scarf of Blue
That we'll became the valley fair
And grassy fringe of greenest hue
Hung round the borders everywhere.
And when the stream, in waywari whirls
Went winding in and winaing out,
Lay shells that wore the look of pearls
Without their pride, all strewn about.
And here and there along the strand,
Where some ambitious wave had strayed,
Lay little monuments of sand s
As frail as those by mortal made.
And many d flower was blooming there
In beauty, yet without name,
Like humble hearts that often bear
The gifts-but not the palm of fame.
The rainbow's tiGts could never vie
With all the colors that they wore;
While bluer than the bluest sky,
The stream flowed on tween shore anc
| shore.
And on the height, and down the side,
OF either hill that hid the place,
Rose e!ms in all their stately pride
Of Youthful strength and ancient race
While here and there the trees between
Bearing thc scars of battle-shocka,
And frowning wrathful, might be seen
The moss yelled faces of the rocks,
And round the rocks crep. fowered vines
And climb the trees that tower'd high
The type of lifty thought that twines
Around the truth, to toucn the sky.
And 10 the vale, from first of May
Until the last of August went;
Beauty, the exile came each day
In all her charms, to cast her tent.
Twas there one long gone August day
wandered down the valley fair
The spell has never passed away,
That fell upon my spirit there.
Tie summer sunset gloriied
The clouded ace of dying day,
Which flung a smile upon the tide
And lilies. ere he passed away.
And DER the valleys grassy slopes
There fell AN evanescont sheen,
That flashed and faded like the hopes
That haunts us, of what might have been
And rocks and trees flung back the light
OF all the sunsets golden gems,
As if it were beneath their right
To wear such borrowed dadems.
Low in the West CLEAN after CLEAN
Glowed faint and faiuter-tlll the las:
Made the dying Day living Dream
To last as long as life shall last
And in the arches of the trees
The wild birds slept with folded wing,
And cen the lips of the summer breeze,
That sung all day, had ceased to sing.
And all was silcnt-saye the riIl
That rippled round the lilies feet,
And sang-while stiffness grew more still
To listen to the murmu- sweet.
And now and then it surely secmel
The little stream was laughing low,
As if its sleep wa, elets dreamed
Such dreams us only children KIN ".
50 still-that net the falntest breath
Did stir the shadows in the air;
II would have seemed the home of Death
Had not felt life sleeping there.
And low and soft-and soft and slow
From darkling earth and dan kened sky.
While wings of Gloom waved to and fro,
And spectral shadows fitted by.
And then me.hought upon The sward
Isaw-or was it starliyht's ray?
Or Angels came to watch and guard
The vale, till the dawn of day?
Is every lower life the ward
Of spirits more divinely wrought
'Tis sweet to believe tits Gods, and harl
To think It's but Poets thought.
But Gods or Poets thought, ween
My senses did not fail me when
saw yelled angels watch the scene
And guard its sleep, as they guard men.
Sweet sang the stream as on it pressed
As sorrow sings heart to sleep,
AS a mother sings one child to rest,
And for the dead one still will weep.
I walked adownthe singing stream
The lilies slept OIL either side;-
My heart-it could not help but dream
AT Eve, and after Eyentide.
All. dreams of such lofty reach
With more than earthly fancies fraught.
That not the strongest wings of speech
Could ever touch their lowest thought.
Dreams of the Bright-the Fair-the Far
Heart>fancies flashing Heayen's hue,
That swept around, as sweeps star
The boundless orbit of the True.
Yea! dreams all free from earthly taint,
Where human passion plays no part,
As pure as thoughts that thrill Saint,
Or haunts and Archangelic heart.
All! dreams that did not rise from sense
and rose too high to stoop it
And famed aloft the frankincense
In censo-s round the Infinite.
Yea! dreams that Wed with Angels fight
And scaring-bore my heart away,
Beyond the fer star bounds of night
Unto the Everlasting Day.
How long strolled beside the stream
| do not know, nor raay / say,
But when the Poet ceased to dream