Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
THE STORY OF JUSTIN MARTYR, AND OTHER POEMS.
BY RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH, PERPETUAL CURATE OF CURDRIDGE CHAPEL, HANTS.
LONDON: BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
To Nicholas, Emperor of Russia, on his reported Conduct towards the Poles 43
On the Results of the last French Revolution 44
Sonnet. To my Child, a Fellow-traveller 68
On the Perseus and Medusa of Benvenuto Cellini 80
Lines written at the Village of Passignano, on the Lake of Thrasymene 81
To England. Written after a visit to Sorrento 87
Lines written after hearing some beautiful singing in a Convent Church at Rome. 88
On a Picture of the Assumption by Murillo 92
Address on leaving Rome to a Friend residing in that City 98
To ----, on the Morning of her Baptism 119
Sonnet. In a Pass between the Walchen and the Waldensee 165
To my God-Child, on the Day of his Baptism 168
... 26, ... 3, _for_ flonrish _read_ flourish.
... 137, ... 6, _for_ starerd _read_ starred.
If, Lady, at thy bidding, I have strung As on one thread these few unvalued beads, I cannot ask the world to count them pearls, Or to esteem them better than they are: But thou, I know, wilt prize them, for by thee Solicited, I have beguiled with these The enforcèd leisure of the present time, And dedicate of right my little book To thee, beloved--sure at least of this That if my verse has aught of good or true, It will not lack the answer of one heart-- And if herein it may be thou shalt find Some notes of jarring discord, some that speak A spirit ill at ease, unharmonised, Yet ’twere a wrong unto thyself to deem These are the utterance of my present heart, My present mood--but of long years ago, When neither in the light of thy calm eyes, Nor in the pure joys of an innocent home, Nor in the happy laughter of these babes, Had I as yet found comfort, peace, or joy. But all is changèd now, and could I weave A lay of power, it should not now be wrung From miserable moods of sullen sin, Chewing the bitter ashes of the fruit Itself had gathered; rather would I speak Of light from darkness, good from evil brought By an almighty power, and how all things, If we will not refuse the good they bring, Are messages of an almighty love, And full of blessings. Oh! be sure of this-- All things are mercies while we count them so; And this believing, not keen poverty Nor wasting years of pain or slow disease, Nor death, which in a moment might lay low Our pleasant plants,--not these, if they should come, Shall ever drift our bark of faith ashore, Whose stedfast anchor is securely cast Within the veil, the veil of things unseen, Which now we know not, but shall know hereafter.