The Story of Justin Martyr, and Other Poems

P O E M S.
BY RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH, PERPETUAL CURATE OF CURDRIDGE CHAPEL, HANTS. LONDON: EDWARD MOXON, DOVER STREET. MDCCCXXXV. LONDON: BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.


Page 9, line 6, for look read looks. ... 26, ... 3, for flonrish read flourish. ... 137, ... 6, for starerd read starred.
If, Lady, at thy bidding, I have strung As on one thread these few unvalued beads, I cannot ask the world to count them pearls, Or to esteem them better than they are: But thou, I know, wilt prize them, for by thee Solicited, I have beguiled with these The enforcèd leisure of the present time, And dedicate of right my little book To thee, beloved—sure at least of this That if my verse has aught of good or true, It will not lack the answer of one heart— And if herein it may be thou shalt find Some notes of jarring discord, some that speak A spirit ill at ease, unharmonised, Yet ’twere a wrong unto thyself to deem These are the utterance of my present heart, My present mood—but of long years ago, When neither in the light of thy calm eyes, Nor in the pure joys of an innocent home, Nor in the happy laughter of these babes, Had I as yet found comfort, peace, or joy. But all is changèd now, and could I weave A lay of power, it should not now be wrung From miserable moods of sullen sin, Chewing the bitter ashes of the fruit Itself had gathered; rather would I speak Of light from darkness, good from evil brought By an almighty power, and how all things, If we will not refuse the good they bring, Are messages of an almighty love, And full of blessings. Oh! be sure of this— All things are mercies while we count them so; And this believing, not keen poverty Nor wasting years of pain or slow disease, Nor death, which in a moment might lay low Our pleasant plants,—not these, if they should come, Shall ever drift our bark of faith ashore, Whose stedfast anchor is securely cast Within the veil, the veil of things unseen, Which now we know not, but shall know hereafter.