Cornish ballads & other poems . d in Bishop BrentinghanVs Register in theArchives of Exeter, 1296, the Church land is said to extendeastward, ad quendam fontem Johannis. Water wherewithal to fillthe font for baptism is always drawn from this well by the Sacristanin pitchers set apart for this purpose. THEY dreamed not in old Hebron, when the soundWent through the city, that the promised son Was born to Zachary, and his name was John;They little thought, that here in this far ground, Beside the Severn sea, that Hebrew child Would be a cherished memory of the wild ;Here, where the pulses of
Cornish ballads & other poems . d in Bishop BrentinghanVs Register in theArchives of Exeter, 1296, the Church land is said to extendeastward, ad quendam fontem Johannis. Water wherewithal to fillthe font for baptism is always drawn from this well by the Sacristanin pitchers set apart for this purpose. THEY dreamed not in old Hebron, when the soundWent through the city, that the promised son Was born to Zachary, and his name was John;They little thought, that here in this far ground, Beside the Severn sea, that Hebrew child Would be a cherished memory of the wild ;Here, where the pulses of the ocean bound Whole centuries away, while one meek cell, Built by the fathers oer a lonely well,Still breathes the Baptists sweet remembrance round. A spring of silent waters with his name, That from the angels voice in music came,Here in the wilderness so faithful found,It freshens to this day the Levites grassy mound. The Festival of St. John the Baptizer, 1843.[From Echoes from Old Cornwall; reprinted in Cornish Ballads.]. 135 THE OBLATION. A WEB of woven wool, fringed all around,Ruddy and rich in hue, like Syrian wine;With golden leaves inlaid on that dark ground,That seemed just shed from some oershadowing vine:Such was the ladys offering at Morwennas shrine. We laid it on the altar, while the word Lingered in echoes oer the unconscious wall; The voice that prophesied our God had heardThe sound of alms, and would remember all;Twasthe Child Jesus day, the Bethlehem Festival. We offered it to Him :—scorn not the phraseYe proud and stately magnates of the land ; Grudge not the poor their pence, nor God His praise,Though as our simple fathers stood, we stand,And render thus our gifts with meek and votivehand. We left it in that chancel deckd with flowers,And boughs that blossomd like old Aarons rod ; For faithful hands had built them leafy bowersAlong our aisles, such as the angels trodWhen Moses saw the bush, and Abraham talkedwith God. Christmas Day, 1843. [From Reeds S
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