Page images
PDF
EPUB

scene of wrangling and peace-making well recited, and then an old man with silver hair and beard, and a face that might have belonged to a Welsh bard of old days, stands up, and after blessing the people gathered together, begins to sing in a sweet quavering voice. It is a Welsh hymn set to a wild tune which seemed to have gathered into itself some of the sound we had heard among the fir-trees, and of the sea running up into the deep chasms of that rocky coast. The people are spell-bound now. There is perfect quiet except for an occasional groan or sigh. The old white-haired minister keeps time to the tune with his hands and when we ask him what the words are, he answers, only ' about the sea of crystal.'

It was a strange wandering tune, full of unexpected wailing minor tones, and then again merging into a peaceful melody with which it ended. There was a fascination in it. Perhaps it came from the thought that in some mysterious way the wildness, and the discords and the wailing found their way into harmony at last, in the image of that mystic sea, across which the true music may some day be wafted to us, when we have ears to hear it. A few words more and the old minister receives his New Year's gifts from the people who love him, and lifts up his hand to give the blessing with which he has blessed them for so many years. And we find our way out into the dark night and are helped in the same kindly fashion till we reach our carriage, and then amid many kindly good-nights and blessings drive home under the swaying boughs and the drifting clouds, and the 'same bright patient stars.'

N

THE SEA-POOL.

Ir lay all round a sea-worn rock, that pleasant sunlit water-clear as crystal, with the blue sky reflected in it. The beautiful sea-weeds threw out their long fronds in it; the bright sea-creatures revelled in it, clinging to the rock, and stretching out their many mouths to drink. The breeze blew over it, and curled its surface into tiny ripples, and little human feet waded into it. What could be more glad than that wondrous seapool? All day giving life and joy-all day reflecting the heaven above it. And for hours as it lay in the leagues of broad sand, it was full of gladness. It was full, it was joy-giving, it was content.

But there came a change. A far-off sound began to trouble that bright water, a distant sound that thrilled to its calm depths, and moved them, not with fear, but with solemn awe, and yearning gladness. Far, far away it seemed, and yet coming nearer. Far away, and yet part of its very self. 'Are you not content?' said the rock. 'Why are you listening, listening; am not I enough for you?'

'No! no! I thought you were until now, but there is something that is more to me. I hear it drawing

near.'

'Do not leave us, bright water, for who will feed us if you go?' sighed the beautiful sea-creatures about him. 'That which feeds me will feed you, dear ones, don't be afraid. It is Love which comes. I am not enough for you.'

'But you are full of Heaven ; in all your surface it is reflected.'

'I must be made more, that I may hold more of it. I must be one with the depths themselves. It is me, and I am it. Do not hold me from

my

And the glorious sound came nearer.

own.'

It was a moment of exquisite and solemn gladness, as the great tide swept over the rock, and in the next it had drawn the sea-pool into its bosom for ever.

VERSES.

« PreviousContinue »