THE SONGS OF OUR FATHERS. 66 Sing aloud Old songs, the precious music of the heart." SING them upon the sunny hills, Wordsworth. When days are long and bright, And the blue gleam of shining rills Where ancient hunters rov'd, And swell them through the torrent's roar- The songs their souls rejoic'd to hear And each proud note made lance and spear The songs that through our valleys green, Sent on from age to age, Like his own river's voice, have been The peasant's heritage. The reaper sings them when the vale Cheer'd homeward through the leaves : And unto them the glancing oars A joyous measure keep, Where the dark rocks that crest our shores Dash back the foaming deep. So let it be a light they shed O'er each old fount and grove; A memory of the gentle dead, They bid our streams roll on, And link high thoughts to every glen Where valiant deeds were done. 122 THE SONGS OF OUR FATHERS. Teach them your children round the hearth, When evening-fires burn clear, And in the fields of harvest mirth, And on the hills of deer! So shall each unforgotten word, When far those lov'd ones roam, The green woods of their native land Where like the stag they rov'd- The songs your fathers lov'd. THE BURIAL OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. LOWLY upon his bier The royal conqueror lay, Silent in war-array. Down the long minster's aisle, Crowds mutely gazing stream'd, Altar and tomb, the while, Through mists of incense gleam'd: And by the torch's blaze The stately priest had said High words of power and praise, To the glory of the dead. They lower'd him, with the sound Of requiems, to repose, When from the throngs around A solemn voice arose : "Forbear, forbear!" it cried, "In the holiest name forbear! He hath conquer'd regions wide, "By the violated hearth Which made way for yon proud shrine, By the harvests which this earth Hath borne to me and mine; "By the home ev'n here o'erthrown, On my children's native spot, Hence! with his dark renown Cumber our birth-place not! "Will my sire's unransom'd field O'er which your censers wave, To the buried spoiler yield Soft slumber in the grave? |