Welsh Journals

WALES. Vol. III.] DECEMBER, 1896. [No. 32. PEACE ON EARTH. A CAROL. By E. Bryan. "DEACE ON EARTH, GOODWILL to men, ■*■ Sang the angel host of old, Love divine, On earth doth shine, In the manger Christ behold. Peace on earth, goodwill to men; Sages too proclaim the cry ; Age by age, Thus call the sage, Leave, O men, your follies by. Peace on eartii, goodwill to men, Love and mercy men remind Of the deed To lessen need,— God's goodwill to all mankind. Peace on earth, goodwill to men, Shall resound from sun to sun ; Time so halo, With age will fail, Ere the glorious theme be done. Peace on earth, goodwill to men, Earth and stars and heavens fall, Prom the tomb Men rise to doom, God remaineth All in All. ISLWYN'S ENGLISH POEMS.* xviii.—The Farewell Walk. A/TANY years have rolled away 1VX Since the blissful summer day When we took our farewell walk, When the winds were hushed on the shore, Listening to our farewell talk,— Sweet accents heard no more. The billows that roll in that fairy'bay Seem, even now, to remember the day; In my charmed ears they seem to talk Of the farewell day, of the farewell walk, Oh ! why did I feel I should soon be forlorn, When tho rose of health did thy cheek adorn ? Why did I feel by that lonely main As if we never should meet again ? Nature, appalled, seemed to hold her breath At the shadow of thy coming death ; I thought not of death, yet I could not help feeling That we were together then, for the last evening. I was called too soon, in an hour too trying, To see thee languish, to watch thee dying. Is it possible, can it be That thou never rememberest me ? No ! For heaven, tho' never so prized, Is only earth immortalized. Give a good man the past glorified, And he shall for ever be satisfied. I'd not have a future, tho' never so vast, That should be all severed from loves of the past; I feel sometimes I could gladly die For the joy of meeting thoe on high; But I dare not think much of that blissful hour, It doth " this mortal" so overpower. Oh! visit thou often the border land, For I am approaching; beside me stand ! And when I emerge from Jordan's flood, Receive me, beloved, to home and God ! If glorified spirits may hither stray, We shall yet visit that fairy bay, And read of life's volume that closing page, When we shall be millions of years of age. We shall yet look back on a well-ended past, For if " Death " be an enemy, he is " THE LAST! " * These additional poems, of the existence of winch I was not aware, were kindly sent me by an old friend, Mr. John Morgan, solicitor, Cardiff. 34 529 xix.—My Sister. Thy star had set, thy course was run, Ere I began this mortal race ; Why is thy name so sweet to one Who never saw thy face ?