Gilbert Parker
Embers, Complete
Published by Good Press, 2022
goodpress@okpublishing.info
EAN 4064066214296
Table of Contents
INTRODUCTION
PROEM
ROSLEEN
WILL YOU COME BACK HOME?
MARY CALLAGHAN AND ME
KILDARE
YOU’LL TRAVEL FAR AND WIDE
FARCALLADEN RISE
GIVE ME THE LIGHT HEART
WHERE SHALL WE BETAKE US?
NO MAN’S LAND
AT SEA
ATHENIAN
EYES LIKE THE SEA
OPEN THY GATE
SUMMER IS COME
WAS IT SOME GOLDEN STAR?
I HEARD THE DESERT CALLING
THE FORGOTTEN WORD
WHAT WILL IT MATTER?
THE COURIER STAR
THE WORLD IN MAKING
HEW
O SON OF MAN
AT THE END OF THE WORLD
WAYFARERS
THE RED PATROL
THE YELLOW SWAN
THE HEART OF THE PIONEER
THE NORTH TRAIL
ALONE
THE SCARLET HILLS
THE WOODSMAN LOVER
QUI VIVE
THE LITTLE HOUSE
SPINNING
SUZON
MY LITTLE TENDER HEART
THE MEN OF THE NORTH
THE CROWNING
CLOSE UP
W. E. H.
WHEN BLOWS THE WIND
DOLLY
LIFE’S SWEET WAGES
TO THE VALLEY
LOVE IN HER COLD GRAVE LIES
GRANADA, GRANADA
THE NEW APHRODITE
AN ANCIENT PLEDGE
THE TRIBUTE OF KING HATH
THERE IS AN ORCHARD
HEART OF THE WORLD
EPITAPHS
THE MAID
THE SEA-REAPERS
THE WATCHER
THE WAKING
WHEN ONE FORGETS
ALOES AND MYRRH
IN WASTE PLACES
LAST OF ALL
AFTER
REMEDIAL
THE TWILIGHT OF LOVE
IRREVOCABLE
THE LAST DREAM
WAITING
IN MAYTIME
INSIDE THE BAR
THE CHILDREN
LITTLE GARAINE
TO A LITTLE CHILD
PHYLLIS
BAIRNIE
IN CAMDEN TOWN
JEAN
A MEMORY
IN CAMP AT JUNIPER COVE
JUNIPER COVE TWENTY YEARS AFTER
LISTENING
NEVERTHELESS
ISHMAEL
OVER THE HILLS
THE DELIVERER
THE DESERT ROAD
A SON OF THE NILE
A FAREWELL FROM THE HAREM
AN ARAB LOVE SONG
THE CAMEL-DRIVER TO HIS CAMEL
THE TALL DAKOON
THERE IS SORROW ON THE SEA
THE AUSTRALIAN STOCKRIDER
THE BRIDGE OF THE HUNDRED SPANS
NELL LATORE
INTRODUCTION
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I had not intended that Embers should ever be given to the public, but friends whose judgment I respect have urged me to include it in the subscription edition at least, and with real reluctance I have consented. It was a pleasure to me to have one piece of work of mine which made no bid for pence or praise; but if that is a kind of selfishness, perhaps unnecessary, since no one may wish to read the verses, I will now free myself from any chance of reproach. This much I will say to soothe away my own compunctions, that the book will only make the bid for popularity or consideration with near a score of others, and not separately, and that my responsibility is thus modified. The preface to Embers says all that need be said about a collection which is, on the whole, merely a book of youth and memory and impressionism in verse. At least it was all spontaneous; it was not made to order on any page of it, and it is the handful left from very many handfuls destroyed. Since the first edition (intended only for my personal friends) was published I have written “Rosleen,” “Where Shall We Betake Us?” “Granada,” “Mary Callaghan and Me,” “The Crowning” (on the Coronation of King Edward VII), the fragment “Kildare” and “I Heard the Desert Calling”; and I have also included others like “The Tall Dakoon” and “The Red Patrol,” written over twenty years ago. “Mary Callaghan and Me” has been set to music by Mr. Max Muller, and has made many friends, and “The Crowning” was the Coronation ode of ‘The People’, which gave a prize, too ample I think, for the best musical setting of the lines. Many of the other pieces in ‘Embers’ have been set to music by distinguished composers like Sir Edward Elgar, who has made a song-cycle of several, Sir Alexander Mackenzie, Mr. Arthur Foote, Mrs. Amy Woodforde Finden, Robert Somerville, and others. The first to have musical setting was “You’ll Travel Far and Wide,” to which in 1895 Mr. Arthur Foote gave fame as “An Irish Folk Song.” Like “O Flower of All the World,” by Mrs. Amy Woodforde Finden, it has had a world of admirers, and such singers as Mrs. Henschel helped to make Mr. Foote’s music loved by thousands, and conferred something more than an ephemeral acceptance of the author’s words.
When thou comest to the safe tent of the good comrade,
abide there till thy going forth with a stedfast mind; and
if, at the hospitable fire, thou hast learned the secret of a
heart, thou shalt keep it holy, as the North Wind the
trouble of the Stars.
PROEM
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And the Angel said:
“What hast thou for all thy travail—
what dost thou bring with thee out
of the dust of the world?”
And the man answered:
“Behold, I bring one perfect yesterday!”
And the Angel questioned:
“Hast thou then no to-morrow?
Hast thou no hope?”
And the man replied:
“Who am I that I should hope!
Out of all my life I have been granted one
sheaf of memory.”
And the Angel said:
“Is this all!”
And the man answered:
“Of all else was I robbed by the way:
but Memory was hidden safely
in my heart—the world found it not.”
ROSLEEN
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“She’s the darlin’ of the parish, she’s the pride of
Inniskillen;
‘Twould make your heart lep up to see her trippin’
down the glen;
There’s not a lad of life and fame that wouldn’t take
her shillin’
And inlist inside her service-did ye hear her laughin’
then?
Did ye see her with her hand in mine the day that
Clancy married?
Ah, darlin’, how we footed it-the grass it was so
green!
And when the neighbours wandered home, I was the
guest that tarried,
An hour plucked from Paradise—come back to me,
Rosleen!
Across the seas, beyand the hills, by lovely Inniskillen,
The rigiment come marchin’—I hear the call once
more
Shure, a woman’s but a woman—so I took the Sergeant’s
shillin’,
For the pride o’ me was hurted—shall I never see
her more?
She turned her face away from me, and black as night
the land became;
Her eyes were jewels of the sky, the finest iver seen;
She left me for another lad, he was a lad of life and
fame,
And the heart of me was hurted—but there’s none
that’s like Rosleen!”
WILL YOU COME BACK HOME?
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Will you come back home, where the young larks are
singin’?
The door is open wide, and the bells of Lynn are ringin’;
There’s a little lake I know,
And a boat you used to row
To the shore beyond that’s quiet—will you come back
home?
Will you come back, darlin’? Never heed the pain and
blightin’,
Never trouble that you’re wounded, that you bear the
scars of fightin’;
Here’s the luck o’ Heaven to you,
Here’s the hand of love will brew you
The cup of peace—ah, darlin’, will you come back
home?
MARY CALLAGHAN AND ME
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It was as fine a churchful as you ever clapt an eye on;
Oh, the bells was ringin’ gaily, and the sun was shinin’
free;
There was singers, there was clargy—“Bless ye both,”
says Father Tryon—
They was weddin’ Mary Callaghan and me.
There was gatherin’ of women, there was hush upon the
stairway,
There was whisperin’ and smilin’, but it was no place
for me;
A little ship was comin’ into harbour through the
fairway—
It belongs to Mary Callaghan and me.
Shure, the longest day has endin’, and the wildest storm
has fallin’—
There’s a young gossoon in yander, and he sits upon
my knee;
There’s a churchful for the christenin’—do you hear
the imp a-callin’?
He’s the pride of Mary Callaghan and me.
KILDARE
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He’s the man that killed Black Care,
He’s the pride of all Kildare;
Shure the devil takes his hat off whin he comes:
‘Tis the clargy bow before him,
‘Tis the women they adore him,
And the Lord Lieutenant orders out the drums—
For his hangin’, all the drums,
All the drums!
YOU’LL TRAVEL FAR AND WIDE
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You’ll travel far and wide, dear, but you’ll come back
again,
You’ll come back to your father and your mother in
the glen,
Although we should be lyin’ ‘neath the heather grasses
then—
You’ll be comin’ back, my darlin’!
You’ll see the icebergs sailin’ along the wintry foam,
The white hair of the breakers, and the wild swans as
they roam;
But you’ll not forget the rowan beside your father’s
home
You’ll be comin’ back, my darlin’!
New friends will clasp your hand, dear, new faces on
you smile;
You’ll bide with them and love them, but you’ll long
for us the while;
For the word across the water, and the farewell by the
stile—
For the true heart’s here, my darlin’!
You’ll hear the wild birds singin’ beneath a brighter sky,
The roof-tree of your home, dear, it will be grand and
high;
But you’ll hunger for the hearthstone where, a child,
you used to lie—
You’ll be comin’ back, my darlin’!
And when your foot is weary, and when your heart is sore,
And you come back to the moor that spreads beyand
your father’s door,
There’ll be many an ancient comrade to greet you on
the shore—
At your comin’ back, my darlin’!
Ah, the hillock cannot cover, and the grass it cannot hide
The love that never changeth, whatever wind or tide;
And though you’ll not be seein’, we’ll be standin’ by
your side—
You’ll be comin’ back, my darlin’!
O, there’s no home like the old home, there’s no pillow
like the breast
You slumbered on in childhood, like a young bird in
the nest:
We are livin’ still and waitin’, and we’re hopin’ for the
best—
Ah, you’re comin’ back, my darlin’—comin’ back!
FARCALLADEN RISE
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Oh, it’s down the long side of Farcalladen Rise,
With the knees pressing hard to the saddle, my men;
With the sparks from the hoofs giving light to the eyes,
And our hearts beating hard as we rode to the glen!
And it’s back with the ring of the chain and the spur,
And it’s back with the sun on the hill and the moor,
And it’s back is the thought sets my pulses astir,—
But I’ll never go back to Farcalladen more!
Oh, it’s down the long side of Farcalladen Rise,
And it’s swift as an arrow and straight as a spear,
And it’s keen as the frost when the summer-time dies,
That we rode to the glen, and with never a fear.
And it’s hey for the hedge, and it’s hey for the wall,
And it’s over the stream with an echoing cry;
And there’s three fled for ever from old Donegal,
And there’s two that have shown how bold Irishmen die!
For it’s rest when the gallop is over, my men,
And it’s here’s to the lads that have ridden their last;
And it’s here’s to the lasses we leave in the glen,
With a smile for the future, a sigh for the past!
GIVE ME THE LIGHT HEART
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Give, me the light heart, Heaven above!
Give me the hand of a friend,
Give me one high fine spirit to love,
I’ll abide my fate to the end:
