"OH, MORNIN' LIFE! OH, MORNIN' LUVE! OH, LICHTSOME DAYS AND LANG,-(MOTHERWELL) 327 "WHAT IS FAME? AND WHAT IS GLORY MOTHERWELL THE SWORD CHANT OF THORSTEIN RAUDI Thou hast carved his name deep on The stranger's red strand, Of undying song. Keen cleaver of gay crests, And scourge of the strong. A DREAM, In a love more abiding The smile of a maiden's eye A JESTER'S LYING STORY."-W. MOTHERWELL. WHEN HINNIED HOPES AROUND OUR HEARTS LIKE SIMMER BLOSSOMS SPRANG!"-MOTHERWELL. "'TWERE TIME THIS WORLD SHOULD CAST ITS INFANT SLOUGH AWAY,(MOTHERWELL) 328 44 WHEN THE BUSY STIR OF MAN is gone,-(mOTHERWELL) WILLIAM MOTHERWELL. But thy metal's as true The darker the night. HEART GLADDENER! I kiss thee. My kindred have perished By war or by wave- Is shadowed in death, And with it decay— Our old fearless day. [From "Poems of William Motherwell."] THE SOUL IS LEFT WITH ITS GOD ALONE!"-MOTHERWELL. AND HEARTS BURST FORTH AT LAST INTO the light oF DAY."-WILLIAM MOTHERWELL. NOBLE DEEDS SHOULD HALLOW NOBLE NAMES."-NORTON. THE MOTHER'S HEART. Hon. Mrs. Norton. [MRS. NORTON comes of distinguished lineage, the lineage of genius, for she is the grand-daughter of Richard Brinsley Sheridan. She was born about 1808, and educated by her mother, Lady Elizabeth Sheridan, at Hampton Court. In her nineteenth year she married the Hon. George C. Norton; but the union proved an unhappy one, and was dissolved in 1840. Shortly after her marriage she published her first poem, "The Sorrows of Rosalie," which both critics and public received with genuine favour. Her literary labours, in prose and verse, have been indefatigable, but her fertility has proceeded from a cultivated mind and a gentle heart. Her principal poetical compositions are "The Dream, and Other Poems (1840); the "Child of the Islands" (1846); the "Undying One" (1853); and "Lady of La Garaye" (1861). She has also written the justly popular novels of "Wife and Woman's Reward," "Stuart of Dunleath," "Lost and Saved," and "Old Sir Douglas" (1867). The Quarterly Review has termed Mrs. Norton "the Byron of our modern poetesses. She has very much of that intense personal passion by which Byron's poetry is distinguished from the larger grasp and deeper communion with man and nature of Wordsworth. She has also Byron's beautiful intervals of tenderness, his strong practical thought, and his forceful expression. It is not an artificial imitation, but a natural parallel." "In her tenderer moods," says Moir, "she pitches on a key somewhat between Goldsmith and Rogers—with here the sunset glow of the first, and there the twilight softness of the latter; in her more passionate ones we have a reflex of Byron; but it is a reflex of the pathos, without the misanthropy of that great poet. Her ear for the modulation of verse is exquisite ; and many of her lyrics and songs carry in them the characteristic of the ancient Douglases, being alike 'tender and true."" "PILGRIMS THAT JOURNEY FOR A CERTAIN TIME-WEAK BIRDS OF PASSAGE CROSSING STORMY SEAS-NORTON) THE MOTHER'S HEART. HEN first thou camest, gentle, shy, and fond, My eldest born, first hope, and dearest treasure, "LIFE'S DIVERGING ROADS ALL LEAD TO HIM."-MRS. NORTON. 329 TO REACH A BETTER AND A BRIGHTER CLIME,-WE FIND OUR PARALLELS AND TYPES IN THESE."-MRS. NORTON. "GOD HATH BUILT UP A BRIDGE 'TWIXT MAN AND MAN, WHICH MORTAL STRENGTH CAN NEVER OVERTHROW; 330 66 OUR LIFE'S ABILITY, WHICH IS AS NAUGHT;-(MRS. NORTON) HON. MRS. NORTON. Faithful and true, with sense beyond thy years, And natural piety that leaned to heaven; Yet patient of rebuke when justly given— And meekly cheerful-such wert thou, my child. Not willing to be left: still by my side, Haunting my walks, while summer day was dying; O boy! of such as thou are oftenest made Earth's fragile idols; like a tender flower, And bending weakly to the thunder shower- Then thou, my merry love, bold in thy glee, Thine was the shout, the song, the burst of joy! And the glad heart from which all grief reboundeth ; Lurked in the laughter of thy dark-blue eye! our life's dURATION, WHICH IS BUT A SOUND."-NORTON. OVER THE WORLD IT STRETCHES ITS DARK SPAN: THE KEYSTONE OF THAT MIGHTY ARCH IS WOE!"-NORTON. "DOUBT NOT, CLEAR MIND, THAT WORKEST OUT THE RIGHT FOR THE RIGHT'S SAKE: THE THIN THREAD MUST BE SPUN, "JOY'S RAINBOW GLORIES VISIT EARTH AND GO;-(NORTON) And thine was many an art to win and bless, The cold and stern to joy and fondness warming; The earnest, tearful prayer, all wrath disarming! But thought that love with thee had reached its bound. At length thou camest-thou the last and least, Nicknamed the Emperor" by thy laughing brothers, And thou didst seek to rule and sway the others, And oh! most like a regal child wert thou! An eye of resolute and successful scheming- And proud the lifting of thy stately head, Different from both, yet each succeeding claim, Nor injured either by this love's comparing, [From "The Child of the Islands."] GRIEF'S FOUNDATIONS HAVE BEEN FIXED BELOW."-NORTON. AND PATIENCE WEAVE IT, ERE THAT SIGN OF MIGHT, TRUTH'S BANNER, WAVE FULL FLASHING TO THE LIGHT."-NORTON. |