File:Cornish ballads and other poems (1904) (14780246892).jpg

Identifier: cornishballadsot00hawk (find matches)
Title: Cornish ballads & other poems
Year: 1904 (1900s)
Authors: Hawker, Robert Stephen, 1803?-1875 Byles, C. E. (Charles Edward), b. 1873
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Publisher: London and New York : J. Lane (etc., etc.)
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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hy, and reprinted in Echoes from Old Cornwall,1846, as The Stem and the Boughs.—Ed.) 54 THE WELL OF ST. MORWENNA. HERE dwelt in time long past, so legends tell,Holy Morwenna, guardian of this well.Here, on the foreheads of our fathers, poured,From this lone spring, the laver of the Lord. If, traveller, thy happy spirit knowThat awful Fount whence living waters flow,Then hither come to draw: thy feet have foundAmidst these rocks a place of holy ground. Here, while the surges stormed and raved the blast,The grain of mustard-seed was meekly cast,Till grew and multiplied that goodly tree—Shrines in the vale and towers along the sea. Then sigh one blessing, breathe a voice of praise Oer the fond labour of departed days; Tell the glad waters of the former fame, And teach the joyful winds Morwennas name. (Printed in Records of the Western Shore, Second Series, 1836, as An Inscription for St. Morwennas Well, four years prior to thedate (1840) assigned to this piece by Mr. Godwin.—Ed.) 1
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. r 55 I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE?SAITH THE LORD I May, 1840. WE stood beside an opening grave,By fair Morvvennas walls of grey :Our hearts were hushd—the God who gaveHad called a sister-soul away. Hark ! what wild tones around us float:The chaunting cuckoos double note ! We uttered there the solemn sound— Man that is born from flesh of Eve,The banished flower of Edens ground,Hath but a little time to live ;— And still, amid each pausing word,The strange cry of that secret bird. Ashes to ashes—dust to dust — The last farewell we sadly said. Our mighty hope—our certain trust— The resurrection of the dead. Again, all air, it glides around,A voice !—the spirit of a sound. A doctrine dwells in that deep tone ; A truth is borne on yonder wing; Long years ! long years ! the note is known— The blessed messenger of spring ! Thus saith that pilgrim of the skies : Lo! all which dieth shall arise ! 56 THE WESTERN SHORE. Rejoice ! though dull with wintry gloomLoves sepul

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