Edwardian and Georgian Canadian Poets
Springtime

SPRINGTIME
and other Poems

By
DOROTHY R. BENNETT

LONDON
ARTHUR H. STOCKWELL, LTD.
19 LUDGATE HILL, E.C.4
[unnumbered page]

CONTENTS

PAGE
SPRINGTIME 3
TO A BIRD 3
COME 4
THE BLIZZARD 5
THE SUNSET 6
DREAMS 7
FOR WHATSOEVER A MAN SOWETH THAT SHALL HE ALSO REAP 8
WAR 9
FRIENDS 10
FOUR THINGS 10
SNOWFLAKES 11
DREAM COTTAGE 12
THE OLD ARMCHAIR 13
MEMORIES 14
OH, DEATH, WHERE IS THY STING? 15

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY
M. P. ROBINSON & CO. LTD, THE LIBRARY PRESS, LOWNSTOFT.
[unnumbered page]

SPRINGTIME

Through the open fields I wander,
In the Springtime of the year:
And as I walk I ponder,
With Mother Nature near.

Birds are singing in the trees,
Birds are bursting everywhere,
The breath of Summer is on the breeze,
And drives away our every care.

The Sun sends down its glorious rays
To warm the dreary Earth,
The budding trees and the lengthening days
Alike proclaim Spring’s birth.

Soon will the fields be dressed in green
And man’s heart be filled with cheer;
For hope blooms again, though yet unseen,
In the Springtime of the year.

TO A BIRD

Why are you happy all the day through?
Why is your song so gay?
God gave me life, He fills me with song;
That’s why I am happy always. [page 3]

Why do you sing when the World is so dark?
When danger lurks everywhere?
Though I am weak, God in His love,
Bestows upon me every care.

Why don’t you fret when the sky is o’ercast?
When it seems the sun’s ceased to shine?
Behind the dark clouds the Sun shineth still,
Why then should I languish and pine?

Why do you live from day unto day?
With never a thought for the morrow?
Each day all my needs, in His grace, God supplies,
There’s no need from the future to borrow.

Teach me, little bird, to be happy and free,
To be able to sing the day through;
Cast all your care upon God, Who in love,
Will tenderly care for you.

COME

“Come unto Me all ye that labour,
   And I will give you rest,”
Sweet words of loving comfort
   To those by toil opprest.

“Come to the marriage supper,”
   There’s food and wine to spare,
Come, for the feast is ready,
   And all may have a share. [page 4]

“Come to the Living Fountain,”
   Drink of Its life-giving tide,
Come all ye thirsty ones
   And near its joys abide.

“Come all ye poor and needy ones,”
   The door is open wide,
Come, for the Saviour waiteth,
   Your every need He’ll provide.

“Come, though your sins be scarlet,”
   They shall be as white as snow,
Wonderful words of the Saviour,
   Spoken so long ago.

Come! Oh, how sweet this word
   Falls on the listener’s ear;
It speaks of rest for weary souls,
   Away from harm and fears.

THE BLIZZARD

Cold blows the north wind
O’er the prairie would to-night.
Snow-clad land and icy rivers,
And the trees all dressed in white.

Dark is the night, the storm-clouds gather,
Blotting out each ray of light.
Woe to all who venture forth
From their homes this dreary night. [page 5]

All is hushed in deathly silence,
Not a cry disturbs the air,
Birds within their nest lie sleeping,
And the coyotes keep their lair.

Death stalks boldly o’er the prairies,
Seeking ever for its prey,
Those who wandering far from shelter,
On the prairies lose their way.

Cold blows the north wind
O’er the prairie world to-night.
But there’s cheer and every comfort
By the fireside, warm and bright.

THE SUNSET

Calm and still the eve approaches
   And the rush of day is o’er.
Weary toilers, homeward going,
   Glad to be at rest once more.

Hot and dreary has the day been,
   But the eve is cool and bright.
Gentle breezes, softly blowing,
   Heralds of a peaceful night.

As the twilight slowly gathers,
   Wondrous beauty greets the eye,
Colours fair in perfect splendour,
   Come and go across the sky. [page 6]

Then the Heavens are bathed in glory,
   Ne’er achieved by mortal hand.
Brightest hues with grandeur radiant,
   ’Tis the sunset o’er the land.

DREAMS

All alone. How shall I spend the evening?
In Africa’s Jungles or ’neath India’s Sun?
Back in the day when knighthood was in flower?
Or with the races that have yet their course to run?

Shall I rest in peaceful cloister walls?
Or with an army fight the way to fame?
Shall I seek the crowds who live for pleasure?
Or visit with the blind, the sick, the lame?

Shall I travel o’er the prairies’ rolling plains?
Or wing my way above the mountains steep?
In pleasant valleys, midst flowers so bright and gay?
Or sail across the mighty ocean deep?

No! I will sit in peace before my fire,
And dream of things that once to me were dear,
Of happiness and joys that now are past and o’er,
Dreams of the past return, my heart to cheer. [page 7]

FOR WHATSOEVER A MAN SOWETH THAT SHALL HE ALSO REAP

In haste a careless farmer
Went forth his seed to sow,
Then sat in idle comfort
Until his seed should grow.

The harvest came, he reaped that year
A crop of thorns and weed,
He scarcely had enough of grain
His future crop to seed.

His ever-careful neighbour
Began to sow with ease,
He worked and toiled his seed to grow
So that his grain might please.

At harvest-time he reaped with joy
His fields of golden grain,
His wealth was great, his heart was glad,
He laboured not in vain.

Two idle women thought to spend
A very pleasant hour.
They talked about their friends and pals,
Until their thoughts were sour.

Then one day they felt the need
Of refuge from a storm,
But not one door was opened wide,
To shelter them from harm. [page 8]

Two ladies with hearts full of love
Set out to help the poor,
And everywhere their feet might turn
They found an open door.

And when they came to places rough,
They did not cry for aid;
Their friends were many, and in love
They came. The debt was paid.

WAR

Why o’er the land the bursting shell?
What means the cannon’s roar?
Have all the fiends been loosed from Hell?
No! this is only war.

Where are the youths of our land all gone?
To the place where the bravest lie,
To fight for their land till the war be won,
Or beneath their flag to die.

Many a Mother at home doth pray,
Many a Widow weep,
Thinking of one who would not stay,
But under a cross doth sleep.

Victory is ours, but where are its joys?
Where is the glory and pride?
Victory never can bring back our boys,
Or fill the place of one who has died. [page 9]

FRIENDS

The rarest gems that I can find
Are friends both tried and true,
Those who to me are always kind,
Whate’er I say or do.

I care not for wealth or fame,
Nor joys that the world can give,
But for friends, though they be or lowly name,
To be true to me while I live,

A true friend is a gem of worth,
A gift from Heaven above;
The greatest blessing upon the Earth,
Is the joy of a true friend’s love. [page 10]

FOUR THINGS

Four things come not back to man:
The arrow sped upon its way,
An evil course it will pursue,
And who can tell where it may lay.

The spoken word is gone for aye,
And none can it recall,
’Tis well to watch the words we’d say,
Ere from our lips they fall. [page 10]

The opportunity once lost,
Will ne’er again return,
The best ’tis well to do to-day,
Not for the past to yearn.

The years of the past, for aye are o’er,
And if they in sin were spent,
We’ll ne’er blot them out through with failing tears
Forever we may repent.

SNOWFLAKES

Falling gently from the Heavens,
   Slowly coming on their way,
Snowflakes like bright diamonds shining,
   On the earth their glory lay.

Skipping gaily o’er the house-tops,
   Dropping to the street below,
Filling the dark earth with beauty,
   From the brightness of their glow.

Covering up the sleeping flowers
   With a blanket warm and light,
Little snowflakes never wearying,
   Falling gently day and night.

Not a stain doth the picture
   Of the earth in white array,
Dazzling, glorious, pure and peaceful,
   Covered by the snowflakes gay. [page 11]

Just as pure as are the snowflakes,
   Make my soul, dear Lord, I pray,
Clean and kindly, good and noble,
   Keep me ever in Thy way.

DREAM COTTAGE

A little straw-thatched cottage,
   Roses climbing round the door,
Sunshine peeping through the windows,
   What could give me pleasure more?

Grass and tall trees in the garden,
   Flowers growing by the wall,
Sweet birds singing in the tree-tops,
   Who for such joys would not fall.

Pussy sleeping by the fireside,
   Baby playing on the floor,
Puppy romping through the garden,
   Joys from Heaven’s abundant store.

There no trials or cares should enter,
   Sorrow would not find its way,
Through the door of that loved cottage,
   Built for happiness alway. [page 12]

THE OLD ARMCHAIR

When the evening sun is setting
   And I feel the need of rest,
I will draw up to the fireside
   The chair I love the best.

Then when all is quiet around me
   And my every thought doth please,
In that chair I’ll sit in comfort
   For I find it full of ease.

From the depths of drowsy comfort,
   Should my thoughts then chance to roam
Over mountain, stream or river,
   Far away from scenes of home.

Back again my thoughts will wander,
   To the kindly friend who gave
This loved chair to bring me comfort
   And my tired feet to save. [page 13]

MEMORIES

When the evening shadows gather
   Memories sweet return to me,
Dreams of home and thoughts of Mother,
   And the place I fain would be.

Cherished dreams of times long past,
   Faces that I long to see;
Some from earth have gone, while others
   Dwell in lands far, far from me.

School-bell ringing in the distance
   Calling come away from play,
Lessons done and school doors closing
   Comes the joyous part of day.

By the lamplight in the evening,
   All the family gathered there,
Father, Mother, Sisters, Brothers,
   Smiles and tears with all to share.

In the churchyard quietly lying,
   Peacefully sleeping till the dawn,
Those I loved have gone and left me
   All alone their loss to mourn.

When the evening shadows gather,
   Faces then once more I see,
Of the dear ones who are waiting
   At the Pearly Gates for me. [page 14]

OH, DEATH, WHERE IS THY STING?

Life’s pleasures, joys and cares must pass away,
Time is short and the grave ever open lies;
We live our life in one short day,
And then we die.

At sunrise birth; at sunset life is o’er,
And onward then we go,
Time passes, we are remembered here no more,
The grave is cold, dark and alone.

Life’s morn is fair; life’s mid-day warm with love,
In the eve death’s cold hand lies upon our brow.
Then a soft whisper comes down from above,
Fear not, for I am with thee now.

Oh, death, thy power has passed away,
Thy claims are snapped, the day is born.
Death, darkness and the grave are gone for aye,
And I have passed to Heaven’s Eternal Morn. [page 15]
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