I.
“Think of Death!” the grave-stones say,—
“Peace to Life’s mad striving!”
II.
But the church-yard daisies,—“Nay,
Think of Living!”
“Think of Life!” the sunbeams say,
O’er the dial flying;
I.
But the slanting shadows,—“Nay,
Think of Dying!”
“Think of Death!” the night birds say,
On the storm-blast driving;
II.
But the building swallows,—“Nay,
Think of Living!”
“Think of Life!” the broad winds say,
Through the old trees sighing;
I.
But the whirling leaf-dance,—“Nay,
Think of Dying!”
“Think of Death!” the sad bells say,
Fateful record giving;
II.
Clash the merry Yule-peal,—“Nay,
Think of Living!”
Concert. Dying, Living, glad or loath,
On God’s Rood relying;
Pray He fit us all for both—
Living, Dying!
From the German.
The Cataract of Lodore.
[For Solo and Concert Recitation.]
[Variations in Force, Time, Pitch, Quality, Staccato and Legato effect, to be made according to the idea expressed by the different words.]
Solo.
“How does the water come down at Lodore?”
My little boy asked me
Thus, once on a time,
And moreover he tasked me
To tell him in rhyme.
Anon at the word
There first came one daughter,
And then came another
To second and third
The request of their brother,
And to hear how the water came down at Lodore,
So I told them in rhyme, for of rhymes I had store,
And ’twas in my vocation
For their recreation,
That so I should sing;
Because I was Laureate to them and the King.
Solo.
From its sources which well
In the tarn on the fell;
Through moss and through brake
It runs and it creeps
For a while till it sleeps
In its own little lake;
It runs through the reeds and away it proceeds
Through meadow and glade, in sun and in shade,
And through the wood-shelter, among crags in its flurry
Helter-skelter, hurry-skurry!
The cataract strong then plunges along,
Striking and raging as if a war waging
Its caverns and rocks among.
Concert.
Rising and leaping,
Sinking and creeping,
Flying and flinging,
Writhing and ringing,
Spouting and frisking,
Turning and twisting,—
Solo.
Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound.
Concert.
And shocking and rocking,
And darting and parting,
And rattling and battling,
And shaking and quaking,
And pouring and roaring,
And waving and raving,
And dropping and hopping,
And working and jerking,
And moaning and groaning.
And falling and brawling and sprawling,
And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling,
And sounding and bounding and rounding,
And bubbling and rumbling and tumbling,
And clattering and battering and shattering.
And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing,
And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping,
And curling and whirling and furling and twirling,
And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping,
And dashing and flashing and splashing and crashing—
Solo.
And so never ending, but always descending,
Sounds and motions for ever and ever are blending
All at once, and all o’er, with a mighty uproar,
And this way the water comes down at Lodore.
Cavalry Song.
[For Boys’ Recitation.]
I.
Our good steeds snuff the winter air,
Our pulses with their purpose tingle;
The foeman’s fires are twinkling there;
He leaps to hear our sabers jingle.
HALT!
Each carbine send its whizzing ball;
Now cling! clang! forward, all,
Into the fight!
II.
Dash on beneath the smoking dome;
Through level lightnings gallop nearer!
One look to Heaven. No thoughts of home;
The guidons that we bear are dearer.
CHARGE!
Cling! clang! forward, all!
Heaven help those whose horses fall!
Cut left and right!
III.
They flee before our fierce attack!
They fall! they spread in broken surges.
Now, comrades, bear our wounded back,
And leave the foeman to his dirges.
WHEEL!
The bugles sound the swift recall;
Cling! clang! backward, all!
Home, and good-night!