Farm Festivals.

Otago Witness, Issue 1583, 25 March 1882, Page 28

Farm Festivals.

Tiß FESTIVAL OF ANECDOTE \ -'">' ' '■ , ' ' ' ■ 08, | > AN EVENING IN THE COtINTIRV .i..|^ • i* i- ;. STORE. !'! ' ' I ( * * < * II fTT }

',*, * That was a sudden death, 'twill be allowed,* ■ s , Said » half-Yankeed Scotchman in the crowd I \ 'We never know what paths may help or kill ; . | ", Deatn has a'-many ways to work his will. j ! Kia his daily study and his care, , ' •: ' " To utilise earth, water, fire, and air, i Sednceithcmfroni their master man's employ, ; And make the traitors murder and destroy. : , Men call this "accident" Ofonelknow, That came about not very long ago, , ' . ' '.Where' l once lived, three thousand miles away 2 ; j ' ' l;read it in my paper, yesterday.' i ' ' Then, with a strong voice that came not amiss, ' - He told the story, something like to this : /,j ■ [THE DEATH-BRIDGE OF THE TAY.] I , - The night and the storm fell together upon the old ',' , 'toWn of Dundee, < , f '<' And," trembling, the mighty firth-river held out its ■ ' ' cold hand toward the sea. ' ,i. Like/ the i dull-booming shots of ft cannon, the winji /•>!; i swept the streets and the shores;;, ! v '1$ wrenched at the roofs and the chimneys— it crashed *"",; 'gainst the windows and doors ; , Like a' mob that is drunken and frenzied, it surged n ><'i through the otreets up and down, j ' ; And screamed thesharpi'shrilloryof • Murder P o'er < \ : Aver and hill-top and town. ! -lit leaned its great breast 'gainst the belfries— it „ ; perched upon minaret and dome— , Then sprang on the shivering firth-rlver, and tor> ' , " . tured its waves into foam. *. 'T<vas a night when the landsman seeks shelter, and - •carea not'to venture abroad: ! t ' When the sailor clings close to the rigging, and praye 1 , ; for tho mercy of God. i ;Look!; Look ! the moon has come out, clad in splendour, the * ' ' turbulent scene to behold : She smiles at the night's devastation— she dresses the • • storm-king in gold, ' , She kindles the air with her cold flame, as if to her hand it were given ' 'Ho light the frail earth to its ruin, with the tendoreet ' radiance, of heaven. ; "•' Away to the north, ragged mountains climb high >' ' ' through the shuddering air ; V.They bend their dork brows o'er the valley, to read - ,i what new ruin is there. > , .Along the snore-line creeps the city, in crouching and sinuous shape, s ' With firesides so soon to be darkened, and doors to be ; ' ' shaded with crape t •< • T.o the south, like & splder-web waving, there curves, for a two-mile way, ;• .This world's latest man«devlaed wonder— the far* famous bridge of the Tay. ' > . 11l Btretches and gleams into distance ; it creeps the , ' broad stream o'er and o'er, > ' !'! ' Hill it rests its strong, delicate fingers in the palm of 1: !. > the opposite shore. , (, !But look (through the mists of the southward, there :, .. , , flash to the eye, clear and plain, ! Like a meteor that's bound to destruction— the lights „ of a swift-coming train t O cruel and bloodthirsty tempest I we sons of human* ■ ity know, » Wherever and whene'er we find you, that you are our '. faitblHlleat foe I i You plough with the death-pointed cyclone wherever ' ' life's dwellings may be ; ' Yon l spur your flre--Bteedß through our cities— you ■ scuttle our ships on the sea. , The storm-shaken sailor has cursed you ; white hands have implored you in vain ; And still you have filled Death's dominions, and ' laughed at mimanity'B pain. 1 Bufc ne'er in the cave where your dark deeds are plotted and hid from the light, ' Was one half so cruel and treacherous as this you have kept for to-night I ; You lurked 'round this bridge in its building ; you ct tt ited each spaa and each pier ; ' You marked the men's daily endeavours— you looked at them all with a sneer ,* * You laughed at the brain.girded structure; you deemed it an easy-fought foe, And bided the time when its builders your easy-plied < , prowess should know. , O tempest t feed full with destruction ! fling down these iron beatn3 from on high i Bat temper your triumph with mercy, and wait tltt the train has gone by I O angels 1 sweet guardian angela I— who once in the body drew breath, Till, wearied, you found the great river, and crossed on the black bridge of death, ' You, who, from tho shores of the sun-land, fly back on tho wings of the soul, And round your frail earth-lovo3 yofc hover, and sfcrivo thoir weak stops to control, Look out through the mists to the southward j— the hearts on yon swift-coming train,

•' *«F«m Festivals,' by Will Carleton, authc* of ,!Ettm Ballads,' 'Farm Legends,' &c. BaUwaiyiw Sjjoiqd, fw4 09.| Edinburgh ana London,

So light and bo happy this moment, are rushing to terror and pain 1 Oh whisper a word to the driver, that till morning the bridge be not braved ; At the cost of a night lost in waiting, the years of these lives may be saved I On yon cheer freighted train there are hundreds, who soon beyond help will be hurled ; Oh whisper to them the dread secret, before it is known to the world I On this home-lighted shore are full many who wait for their friends, bliihe and gay ; They will wait through full many a night-time-through many a sorrow-strewn day. The trim evening lamps from the windows their com-fort-charged beauty will shed ; The fire will bum bright on thejjieftrthsfcone— its raya will be cheerful and red ; The sun will come out of the cold sea— the morning will rise clear and bright, But death will eclipse all its radiance, and darken your world into night 1 'Mid the lights that BO gaily are gleaming yon city of Dundee within, Is one that is waiting a wanderer, who long o'er the ocean has been. His ago-burdened parents are watching from the window that looks on the firth, For the train that will come with their darling— their truest-loved treasure on earth. 4 He'll be comin' the night,' says the father, • for aura the handwritin's his am; The letter says, "Ha' the lamp lichted— l'll come on the seven o'clock train. For year* in the mines I've been toiling, in this wonderfu' West, o'er the sea ; My work has brought back kingly wages— there s plenty for you an' lot me. Your last days shall c'en be your best days ; the highstepping youngter you knew, Who cost so much care in his raising, now 11 caro for himself and for you. Gang not to the station to meet me ; ye never need run for me more ; But when ye shall hear the gate olickit, ye maun rise ap an' open the door. We will ha'e the first glow of our greeting when nae one o' strangers be nigh, We will smile out the joy o' our meeting on the spot where wo wept our good-bye. Ye maun put me a plate on the table, an' set in the auld place a chair ; An' if but the good L rd be willing, doubt never a bit I'll be there. So sit ye an' wait for my coming (ye will na' watch for me in vain), An' see >me glide over the river, along o' the roar o1o 1 the train. Ye may sit at the southernmost window, for I will come name from that way ; I will fly where I swam, when a youngster, acroßß tho broad Firth o' the Tay." ' So they sit at the southernmost window, theparents, with hand clasped in hand, And gaze o'er the tempest-vexed waters, across to the storm-shaken land. N They Bee the bold acrobat-monster creep out on the treacherous line ; Its cinder-breath glitters like star-dust— its lamp-eyos they glimmer and shine. It braces itself 'gainst the tempest— it fights for each inch with the foe— With torrents of air all around it— with torrents of water below. But look .' look I the monster is stumbling, while trembles the fragile bridge-wall— They struggle like athletes entwining— then both like a thunderbolt fall 1 Down, down through the dark the train plunges, with , speed unaccustomed and dire ; It glows with its last dying beauty— it gleams like a hailstorm of fire i •

No wonder the mother faints death-like, and clings like a clad to the floor , No wonder the man flies in frenzy, and dasheß his way through the door 1 He fights his way out through the tempest ; he is beaten and baffled and tossed ; He cries 'The train's gaty off the Tay Brig I lend help here to loot for the lost ! ' Oh, little to him do they listen, the crowds to the river that flee • i

The news, like the shock of an earthquake, ha? thrilled through the town of Dundee, Like travellers belated, they're rushing to where the bare station-walls frown ; Suspense twists the blade of their anguish— like maniacs they run up and down. Out, out, creep two brave, sturdy fellows, o'er dangerstrewn buttress and piers ,* They can climb 'gainst that blast, for they carry the blood of old Scotch mountaineers. But they leave it along as they clamber ; they mark all their hand-path with red ; Till they come where the torrent leaps bridgeless— a grave dancing over its dead.. A moment they gaze down in horror ; then creep from the death-laden tide, With the news, 'There's nae help for our loved one?, ' save God's mercy for them who have died J * Hoyt sweetly the sunlight can sparkle o'er graves ' where our best hopes have lain 1 How brightly its gold beams can'glisten on faces that whiten with pain 1 ' Oh, never more gay were the wavelets, and careless hi innocent glee, , ' ,' And never more sweet did the sunrise shine over the town of Dundee. But though the town welcomed the morning, and the firth threw its gold lances back, On the hearts of the grief-stricken people death's cloud rested heavy and black. f And the couple who waited last evening their man- - statured son to accost, Now laid their heads down on the table, and mourned for the boy that was lost. . "Twas sac sad,' moaned the crushed, aged mother, each word dripping o'er with a tear, ' Sac far he should come for to find us, and then he should perish sac near I 0 Robin, my bairn I ye did wander far from ua for mony a day, And when ye ha* come back sac near us, why could na' ye come a' the way ? 1 1 hae come a' the way,' said a strong voice, and a bearded and sun-beaten face Smiled on them the first joyous pressure of one long and filial embrace : ' I cam' on last nicht far as Newport ; but Maggie, my bride that's to be, ; She ran through the storm to the station, to get the first greeting o' me. 1 leaped from the carriage to kiss her ; she held trie sac fast and sac ticht, The train it ran off and did leave me ; I could na' get over the nicht. I tried for to walk the brig over— my head ib was a 1 in a whirl— I could na'— ye know the Bad reason— l had to go back to my girl ! I hope yell tak' kindly to Maggie ; she's promised to soon be my wife ; She's a darling wee bit of a lassie, and her fondness it saved me my life.' The night and the storm fell together upon the fiad town of Dundee, The half-smothered song of the tempest swept out like a sob to the sea ; The voice of the treacherous storm-king, as mourning for them he had slain ; 0 cruel and bloothirsty tempest 1 your false tears are shed all in vain ! Beneath the dread roof of this ruin your sad victims nestle and creep ; They hear not the voices that call them ; if they come, they will come in their sleep. No word can they tell of their terror, no step of the dark route retrace, Unless their cad story be written upon the white page of the face Perchance that may speak of their anguish when first came the crash ot despair ; The long-drawn suspense of the instant they plunged through tho shuddering air ; The life.panoramas that flitted swift past them, with duties undone ; The brave fight for life in a battle that strong death already had won •

Tho halt-stifled shouting of anguish the aid of high Heaven to implore ; The last patient pang of submission, when cSort was ended and o'er. But, tempest, a bright star in heaven a message of comfort sends back, And draws our dim prlances to skyward, away from thy laurels of black : Thank God that whatever the darkness that covers Hie crcatarc's dim sight, He always vouchsafes some doliverance, throws some one a sweet ray of light ; Thank God ttut the 6trength of Hia goodness from dark depths ascended on high, And carried the souls of the suffering away to the realms of the sky ; Thank God that His well-tempered mercy came down with tho clouds from above, And saved one from out the destruction, and him by the angel of love.