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puts in. We may see the wisdom of the Catechism, too, in the order of its
teaching; in that it “tells him of the love, before it tells him
of the wrath; of the order, before it tells him of the disorder; of the
right, before the wrong; of the health, before the disease; of the freedom,
before the bondage; of the truth, before the lies; of the light, before the
darkness; in one word, it tells him first of the eternal and good God, who
was, and is, and shall be to all eternity, before and above the evil
devil.”—P. 44.
This is the chief lesson to be learnt from these ten sermons; but both in
these, and in the other twelve, many equally important principles are dwelt
upon, which every reader of Mr. Kingsley, and of his guide and friend, Mr.
Maurice, is familiar with. That the relations between man and man, between
Column Break
father and child, between husband and wife, between Englishman and
England, are sacred, not merely as typical of the highest truths, but as the
actual embodiment and copy of those truths; that selfishness and
self-wrought isolation are the very root and ground of sin, and of all
violation of God’s order;*
that heaven consists in doing God’s will, and hell in doing
one’s own selfish will; that there is a Light which lighteth
every man that is born into the world, and inspires every man with whatever
thought of good he has thought, whatever deed of good he has done; that God
is as surely present in the history of nations now, as he ever was in the
history of the Jews; that the repeated defeats of Russia, and the sad story
of our own Crimean mismanagement, are surely punishments for
sins,—for those sins of which they are the natural and necessary
results, according to the laws by which God governs His
universe;—all these truths we may learn from this book, and may
be very thankful that there are men who are never weary of teaching them.
Transcribed Footnote (page 62):
*The great lesson of that much misunderstood Poem,“Maud.”
Editorial Note (page ornament): Initial W is ornamental.
Note: Though the rest of the periodical is printed in two columns, poems are
printed in a single column, centered.
- We rode together
- In the winter weather
- To the broad mead under the hill;
- Though the skies did shiver
- With the cold, the river
- Ran, and was never still.
- No cloud did darken
- The night; we did hearken
- The hound’s bark far away.
-
10 It was solemn midnight
- In that dread, dread night,
- In the years that have pass’d for aye.
- Two rode beside me,
- My banner did hide me,
- As it droop’d adown from my lance;
- With its deep blue trapping,
- The mail over-lapping,
- My gallant horse did prance.
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- So ever together
-
20In the sparkling weather
- Moved my banner and lance;
- And its laurel trapping,
- The steel over-lapping,
- The stars saw quiver and dance.
- We met together
- In the winter weather
- By the town-walls under the hill;
- His mail-rings came clinking,
- They broke on my thinking,
-
30For the night was hush’d and still.
- Two rode beside him,
- His banner did hide him,
- As it droop’d down strait from his lance;
- With its blood-red trapping,
- The mail over-lapping,
- His mighty horse did prance.
- And ever together
- In the solemn weather
- Moved his banner and lance;
-
40And the holly trapping,
- The steel overlapping,
- Did shimmer and shiver, and dance.
- Back reined the squires
- Till they saw the spires
- Over the city wall;
- Ten fathoms between us,
- No dames could have seen us,
- Tilt from the city wall.
- There we sat upright
-
50Till the full midnight
- Should be told from the city chimes:
- Sharp from the towers
- Leapt forth the showers
- Of the many clanging rhymes.
- ’Twas the midnight hour,
- Deep from the tower
- Boom’d the following bell;
- Down go our lances,
- Shout for the lances!
-
60The last toll was his knell.
- There he lay, dying;
- He had, for his lying,
- A spear in his traitorous mouth;
- A false tale made he
- Of my true, true lady;
- But the spear went through his mouth.
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- In the winter weather
- We rode back together
- From the broad mead under the hill;
-
70And the cock sung his warning
- As it grew toward morning,
- But the far-off hound was still.
- Black grew his tower
- As we rode down lower,
- Black from the barren hill;
- And our horses strode
- Up the winding road
- To the gateway dim and still.
- At the gate of his tower,
-
80 In the quiet hour,
- We laid his body there;
- But his helmet broken,
- We took as a token;
- Shout for my lady fair!
- We rode back together
- In the winter weather
- From the broad mead under the hill;
- No cloud did darken
- The night; we did hearken
-
90How the hound bay’d from the hill.