The Song of the Exile—A Canadian Epic   By: Wilfred S. Skeats

SONG OF THE EXILE

A CANADIAN EPIC

Visions and Miscellaneous Poems

BY

WILFRED S. SKEATS

TORONTO HART & COMPANY 31 & 33 KING ST. WEST

1891

Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada in the Office of the Minister of Agriculture, by HART & COMPANY, in the year one thousand eight hundred and ninety.

DEDICATION .

To Thee, whose cheering words have urged me on When fainting heart advised me to stay My halting pen, and leave my task undone: To Thee, I humbly dedicate this lay. Strong, womanly heart! whose long enduring pain Has not sufficed to rend thy faith in twain, But rather teaches thee to sympathise With those whose path through pain and darkness lies Thyself forgetting, if but thou canst be Of aid to others in adversity; The helpful word, the approbative smile From thee have ever greeted me, the while None other cheered. Then let this tribute be A token of my gratitude to Thee .

CONTENTS.

PAGE. THE SONG OF THE EXILE:

Canto the First 9 Canto the Second 29 Canto the Third 49 Canto the Fourth 71 Canto the Fifth 93 Footnotes 118

VISIONS:

The New Resolve 121 The Higher Duty 124 The Hidden Purpose 127

MISCELLANEOUS:

The Serpent 135 Pro Deo et Patria 137 Despondency 139 To L. W. 142 You Wrong Me Kate 145 Flossie 147 To Ethel 149 Dear Little Ethel 151 To D. R. P. 153 Christmas 158 A Serenade 160

THE

SONG OF THE EXILE.

A CANADIAN EPIC .

CANTO THE FIRST.

I.

Ye shores of England, as ye fast recede The pain of parting rends my weary breast. I must regret yet there is little need That I should mourn, for only wild unrest Is mine while in my native land I roam. Thou gav'st me birth, but cannot give a home.

II.

Yet happy were the days that have been mine, So happy that those days must needs be few. It could not be that that bright sun would shine For many months, and while its light was new The clouds arose, and, in one fated day, The jealous storm had swept my joys away.

III.

That fated day, when I believed that all The hopes that I had cherished in the past Would be fulfilled, and I should fondly call The being whom I loved my own at last: Then fell the storm, and bursting on my head, Still saved my body when my soul was dead.

IV.

I loved her dearly, and my heart was set On winning her. My only aim in life Was to secure her love, and so forget The world beside my world would be my wife. I never loved another, her alone I loved, and, loving, longed to call my own.

V.

The summer months were passed in tortured bliss. My love had grown, but that it could not grow; It all enveloped me, and one sweet kiss From her dear lips had made my bosom glow With happiness; and many months of pain Had been as nothing, that one kiss to gain.

VI.

And, when the many tinted Autumn's reign Succeeded Summer's more congenial sway, I told her of the mingled joy and pain That stirred my soul throughout each Summer's day. And whispered, in emotion's softest tone, The love that I had feared before to own.

VII.