Part 1 (1/2)

Home Lyrics.

by Hannah. S. Battersby.

PREFACE.

This second volume of HOME LYRICS has been published since the death of the auth.o.r.ess, 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.

HOME LYRICS.

TO THE MEMORY OF A BELOVED SON WHO Pa.s.sED FROM EARTH, APRIL 3rd, 1887.

I would gaze down the vista of past years, In fancy see to-night, A loved one pa.s.sed 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 suns.h.i.+ne'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 pa.s.s 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 suns.h.i.+ne.

Twitter and Downy also said, We, too, shall happy be, To bask within the sun's warm rays, And swing on branch and tree.