Home Lyrics

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Home Lyrics, by Hannah. S. Battersby
Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the header without written permission.
Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
Title: Home Lyrics
Author: Hannah. S. Battersby
Release Date: January, 2005 [EBook #7336]?[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]?[This file was first posted on April 15, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-Latin-1
? START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOME LYRICS ***
Produced by David Garcia, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks, and the Online Distributed Proofreaders Team
HOME LYRICS.
A Book of Poems.
BY
H. S. BATTERSBY.
VOLUME II.
PREFACE.

This second volume of HOME LYRICS has been published since the death of the authoress, and in fulfilment of her last wishes, by her children, and is by them dedicated to the memory of the dearest of mothers, whose whole life was consecrated to their happiness and welfare and who fully reciprocated her self-denial, devotion and love.
HER CHILDREN.
INDEX.

To the Memory of a Beloved Son who passed from Earth April 3rd, 1887
Birdies. For a Little Five Year Old
The Angel on War
In Memoriam
The Rink
A Binghampton Home
Mrs. Langtry as Miss Hardcastle in "She Stoops to Conquer"
The Shaker Girl
Ice Palace
The Fable of the Sphynx
Up, Sisters, Morn is Breaking
Oh! I Love the Free Air of the Grand Mountain Height
Sunrise
Love
To the Empress Eugenie on the Death of Her Son
Science
Christmas Morn
A Victim to Modern Inventions
It is but an Autumn Leaflet
Written on board the S. S. "Egypt," September 5th, 1884
Roberval. A Legend of Old France
The Brooklyn Catastrophe
The Naini Tal Catastrophe
To Our Polar Explorers
To the Inconstant
Thanksgiving
"Peace with Honour"
The New Year
Home
It is but a Faded Rosebud
Cleopatra's Needle
A Voice from St. George's Hall
To the Museum Committee, on opening Museums on Sundays
Only a Few Links Wanting
A Painful History
Self Denial
To a Faithful Dog
Flowers
A Welcome from Liverpool to the Queen
In Response to a Kind Gift of Flowers
Health
Ingratitude
Trees
To a Faithful Dog
Self Discipline
The Centenary of a Hero
Springbank
Recollections of Fontainebleau
The Tunbridge Wells Flower Show
HOME LYRICS.
TO THE MEMORY OF A BELOVED SON WHO PASSED FROM EARTH, APRIL 3rd, 1887.
I would gaze down the vista of past years,?In fancy see to-night,?A loved one passed from sight,?But whose blest memory my spirit cheers.
Shrined in the sacred temple of my soul,?He seems again to live,?And fond affection give,?His mother's heart comfort and console.
Perception of the beautiful and bright,?In nature and in art,?Evolved from his true heart?Perpetual beams like sunshine's cheering light.
A simple unsophisticated life,?With faith in action strong,?And perseverance long,?Made all he did with vigorous purpose rife.
Responsive to sweet sympathy's kind claim,?His quick impulsive heart?Loved to take active part?In mirthful joy or sorrowing grief and pain.
His manly face would glow with honest glee.?As with parental pride,?Which he ne'er sought to hide,?He fondly gazed on his loved family.
For them he crowned with industry his days;?Ever they were to him?The sweetest, holiest hymn?Of his heart's jubilant, exultant praise.
And Oh, the tender pity of his eye.?The gentle touch and word,?When his fond heart was stirred?To practical display of sympathy.
His true affection, manners gently gay,?The kiss that seems e'en now?Warm on my lips and brow,?Are memories that ne'er can pass away.
Naught can e'er lessen the fond hope that we?May, one day, meet above?With all we dearly love,?To live again in blissful unity.

BIRDIES. FOR A LITTLE FIVE YEAR OLD.
A tender birdie mother sat?In her soft nest one day,?Teaching her little fledglings, three,?To gambol, sing, and play.
Dear little brood, the mother said,?'Tis time for you to fly?From branch to branch, from tree to tree,?And see the bright blue sky.
Chirrup, the eldest, quick replied,?O yes, sweet mother mine,?We'll be so glad to hop about,?And see the bright sunshine.
Twitter and Downy also said,?We, too, shall happy be,?To bask within the sun's warm rays,?And swing on branch and tree.
Well, then, the mother said, you shall,?And straight the birdies all,?Perched on the edge of the high nest,?Beside the chestnuts tall.
Remember, said the mother bird,?You must not go beyond?That row of trees that skirt the edge?Of the transparent pond.
For if you do you might get lost,?Or drowned, and die in pain,?And never to our dear home nest?Return in joy again.
Well mind your orders, mother dear,?And will not disagree,?But do just what you tell us now,?Said all the birdies three.
They hopped off on delighted wing,?To the