Verses and Rhymes by the way | Page 8

the landing for him, and the band With the noise and the music they have at command, Shall be heard in the distance before they are seen, Rolling out the first greeting in "God save the Queen." Well, the Prince over portages rattled and whirled, Suspected he drew near the end of the world, But right royally welcomed, surprised he lit down In this dazzling, ambitious and long little town. And the night air was rent with full many a cheer For joy that the son of our Sovereign was here And he heard every sound, and he saw every sight, That the people had planned for to give him delight; And he felt he was cared for with loyalty's care, In this wonderful town, so far off, and so fair, In the whole wide Dominion there is not a town So loyal so lovely as this of our own Broad Ottawa washes no happier place, As it lies in sweet Allumette's tender embrace Oh, to see it when autumn and sunset unite To drape earth and sky with one robe of delight, When the banners of heaven in the west are unrolled, And the blue lake is barred off with purple and gold, And the Isle, like the patriarch's favourite son, Its coat many coloured and royal has on Thus fair as a vision, and sweet as a dream, It burst on the gaze of the son of our Queen, In the glory of fair Indian summer all drest, And this was the welcome they felt and expressed
THE WELCOME
We welcome thee Prince to the land of the pine, For thy mother's sake welcome, as well as for thine, This town highest up in the Ottawa vale, With the voice of pine forests gives cheer, and all hail Our welcome as rude as the mountains may be, But that cheer is the willing voiced shout of the free And though rude be our welcome, you'll find us, I ween, Most lovingly loyal to country and Queen. Come and see our sweet lake, when its waters' at rest Chafe not round the islands that sleep on its breast And our woods many tinted in glory arrayed, Dyed in rainbows and sunsets illumine the shade. Come and see our dark rocks frowning sterile and high, Their brown shoulders bare and upheaved to the sky; Come and see our grand forests, all echoing round With the strokes that are bringing their pride to the ground; Where thousands of workers bold, hardy and free, Carve out wealth for themselves and an empire for thee Our river now placid, now surging to foam, Shall echo kind thoughts that will follow thee home. All good wishes that tender and prayer like arise, And blessings that fall as the dew from the skies, Shall be breathed out for thee our young Prince of the blood, Son of much loved Victoria and Albert the Good. May thy heart be all fearless, thy life without stain, As the saint and the hero are joined in thy name. Forget not the people whose love thou hast seen God bless thee Prince Arthur thou, son of our Queen

A MOTHER'S LAMENT FOR AN ONLY ONE
(CLARISSA HARLOW)
Seek not to calm my grief, To stay the falling tear; Have pity on me, ye my friends, The hand of God is here.
She was my only one, Oh, then my love how great! Now she is gone, my heart and home Are empty desolate
I thought not, in my love That we were doomed to part, Now I am childless, and my fate Falls heavy on my heart
O Thou who gave the gift, Who took the gift away, Who only can heal up the wound, Give answer while I pray!
Do Thou send comfort down, All goodness as Thou art, Even in Thy last passion, Thou Didst soothe a mother's heart.
I would not take her back, From Thee, from Heaven and bliss, Though yearning for her twining arms, And happy loving kiss
I miss her bounding step, Her voice of bird like glee, Yet thank Thee I had such a child To give her back to Thee
Father, my child! my child, Is laid beneath the sod! and, oh! with quivering lips I try To kiss the chastening rod
Father, Thy will be done Oh make my will the same! And teach me in this trying hour, To glorify Thy name.

SERVANTS.
They are but servants, say the words of scorning, As though they meant to say, we're finer clay, Yet, all the universe holds solemn warning, Against this pride in creatures of a day
In fashion's last new folly, flaunting slowly, With white plumes tossing on the Sabbath air They pass with scornful words a sister lowly. Do scornful lips know anything of prayer?
Alas! poor human nature's inconsistence, Up to God's house we