A Son of the Soil by Mrs. Oliphant - HTML preview

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Miss Matty had been so good an audience that Colin at this time of his life was a little spoiled in respect to his poetry, which, however, after all, he did not consider poetry, but only verses, to amuse himself with. The little poem in question, which he had entitled “Vespers in the Pantheon,” is, for the satisfaction of his friends, given underneath:—

“What voice is in the mighty dome,
Where the blue eye of heaven looks through,
And where the rain falls, and the dew,
In the old heart of Rome?

On the vast area below
Are priests in robes of sullied white
And humble servitors that light
The altars with a feeble glow—

Pale tapers in the twilight dim:
Poor humble folks that come to say
Their farewell to departing day,
Their darkling faith in Him,

Who rules imperial Rome the last:
The song is shrill and sad below,
With discords harsh of want and woe
Into the music cast.

But from the mighty vault that bares
Its open heart unto the sky,
Vague peals of anthem sounding high
Echo the human prayers.

Oh solemn shrine, wherein lie dead
The gods of old, the dreams of men!
What voice is this that wakes again
The echoes overhead,

Pealing aloft the holiest name—
The lowliest name, Rome’s ancient scorn—
Now to earth’s furthest boundaries borne,
With fame above all fame?

Is it some soul whose mortal days
Had known no better God than Jove,
Though dimly prescient of a love
Was worthy higher praise?—

Some soul that late hath seen the Lord:
Some wistful soul, eager to share
The tender trust of Christian prayer,
Though not by wish or word:—

By homage inarticulate:
Murmurs and thunders of sweet sound:
And great Amens that circle round
Heaven’s liberal open gate?

Great singer, wert thou one of those
Spirits in prison, whom He sought,
Soon as his wondrous work was wrought,
Ending all doubts and woes?

Alone? or comes there here a throng?
Agrippa—he who built this shrine—
And men who groped for the divine
Through lifetimes hard and long

Dead Romans to this vault austere,
’Tis meet ye should return to tell,
Of that which was inscrutable,
That God hath made it clear.

So we, still bound in mortal pain,
Take courage ’neath the echoing dome,
In the dear heart of this sad Rome,
To give you back—Amen!”

[2] “Levo l’incomodo,” a homely expression of Italian politeness on leaving a room.

[3] Underneath we give the last copy of nonsense-verses which Colin was seduced into writing, though the chief interest they possess is chronological, as marking the end of the period of life in which a man can express himself in this medium. As for Miss Matty, to tell the truth, she received them with less of her usual good grace than might have been desired; for, though in her own person she was perfectly reconciled to the loss of his devotion, and quite safe in entertaining the mildest sentiments of friendship for him, still she was naturally vexed a little to see how he had got over it—which was a thing not to be expected, nor perhaps desired. This however, was the calm and self-controlled tone of Colin’s farewell:—

“Be it softly, slowly said,
With a smile and with a sigh,
While life’s noiseless hands untie
Links that youth has made—
Not with sorrow or with tears:
With a sigh for those sweet years,
Drawing slow apart the while;
For those sweetest years a smile.

Thus farewell! The sound is sweet
Parting leaves no sting behind:
One bright chamber of the mind
Closing gracious and complete.
Softly shut the silent door;
Never shade can enter more—
Safe, for what is o’er can last;
Somewhat sad, for it is past.

So farewell! The accents blend
With sweet sounds of life to be;
Never could there dawn for me
Hope of any dearer end.
Dear it is afar to greet
The bright path before thy feet,
Thoughts that do thy joy no wrong
Chiming soft the even-song,
Till morn wakes the bridal bell
Fair and sweet, farewell! farewell!”

[4] Numbers I. and II. of the Scotch Tracts for the Times, together with fragments of subsequent numbers uncompleted, will be given, if desired by Colin’s friends, in the appendix to the second edition of this biography.