



Produced by David Garcia, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks,
and the Online Distributed Proofreaders Team











HOME LYRICS.

A Book of Poems.

BY

H. S. BATTERSBY.

VOLUME II.




PREFACE.

       *       *       *       *       *

This second volume of HOME LYRICS has been published since the death of
the authoress, 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.





INDEX.

       *       *       *       *       *

To the Memory of a Beloved Son who passed from Earth April 3rd, 1887

Birdies. For a Little Five Year Old

The Angel on War

In Memoriam

The Rink

A Binghampton Home

Mrs. Langtry as Miss Hardcastle in "She Stoops to Conquer"

The Shaker Girl

Ice Palace

The Fable of the Sphynx

Up, Sisters, Morn is Breaking

Oh! I Love the Free Air of the Grand Mountain Height

Sunrise

Love

To the Empress Eugenie on the Death of Her Son

Science

Christmas Morn

A Victim to Modern Inventions

It is but an Autumn Leaflet

Written on board the S. S. "Egypt," September 5th, 1884

Roberval. A Legend of Old France

The Brooklyn Catastrophe

The Naini Tal Catastrophe

To Our Polar Explorers

To the Inconstant

Thanksgiving

"Peace with Honour"

The New Year

Home

It is but a Faded Rosebud

Cleopatra's Needle

A Voice from St. George's Hall

To the Museum Committee, on opening Museums on Sundays

Only a Few Links Wanting

A Painful History

Self Denial

To a Faithful Dog

Flowers

A Welcome from Liverpool to the Queen

In Response to a Kind Gift of Flowers

Health

Ingratitude

Trees

To a Faithful Dog

Self Discipline

The Centenary of a Hero

Springbank

Recollections of Fontainebleau

The Tunbridge Wells Flower Show






HOME LYRICS.

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


I would gaze down the vista of past years,
In fancy see to-night,
A loved one passed 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 sunshine'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 pass 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 sunshine.

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

Well, then, the mother said, you shall,
  And straight the birdies all,
Perched on the edge of the high nest,
  Beside the chestnuts tall.

Remember, said the mother bird,
  You must not go beyond
That row of trees that skirt the edge
  Of the transparent pond.

For if you do you might get lost,
  Or drowned, and die in pain,
And never to our dear home nest
  Return in joy again.

Well mind your orders, mother dear,
  And will not disagree,
But do just what you tell us now,
  Said all the birdies three.

They hopped off on delighted wing,
  To the next chestnut tree,
O'erjoyed and panting with delight,
  The great, grand world to see.

Oh! what a bright, glad scene, they cried,
  And what a wond'rous sky!
What joy 'twould be to kiss the Sun,
  And be with him on high.

And I, said Downy, I should like
  To sail on yonder sea,
And with that pretty milk-white bird,
  Skim o'er the waters free.

Said Twitter, you talk very large,
  And do not seem to know
Our little wings have not yet power
  Beyond these trees to go.

Besides, said Chirrup, mother said
  We must not go beyond,
But only hop and fly about
  The trees that skirt the pond.

But mother's gone to get us food,
  And she will never know,
Said Downy, so upon the pond
  I am resolved to go.

O fie! exclaimed the birdies both,
  To think of such a thing,
You might get harm, and on us all
  Sorrow and trouble bring.

Oh, I am not a bit afraid,
  I feel so strong and free,
And will not homeward go until
  I float on yonder sea.

Ah, well, said both the other two,
  We will not go with you,
Good-bye, we will not disobey
  Our mother kind and true.

Off went the two obedient birds,
  And safely reached their nest,
The little birdies' happy home
  Of sweet delight and rest.

Meanwhile, poor naughty Downy flew
  From off the chestnut tree,
Away towards the milk-white bird
  That skimmed the waters free.

But ah! his wings were much too weak
  To bear him all the way,
And Downy fell imploring aid
  From loved ones far away.

But no help came. The mother bird
  Was far off gathering food,
From perfumed clover meadows round,
  For her beloved brood.

