FATHER EALDRED. (A LEGEND OF THE YORKSHIRE SEABOARD.)

Waikato Times, Volume XIX, Issue 1624, 30 November 1882, Page 2 (Supplement)

FATHER EALDRED. (A LEGEND OF THE YORKSHIRE SEABOARD.)

(A Holiest of the holy men in Whitby's stately pile, Gravest of the grave-eyed monks who trod her columned aisle, Father Ealdred lowly knelt before the abbots throne, And prayed his graco that he might dwell m hermitage alone; v Shut from the sound of kindly speech, of earth s ' brief joy and strife, In prayer, and fast, and penance hard, to wear away his life; The human heart and human flesh to crush as things abhorred, And to pass away in solitude, for the honour of the Lord. With prlyer and blessing speeded from Whltby s lofty door, Went Father Ealdred forth to find a refuge on the shore, Where the billows leap beneath the black nor • easter's scourge, Where ever on the cruel reef the breakers grind and Surge, Where 'gainst the Point at Kettleness laps on the creamy foam; Wherejfcho dank sea-feet hangs in wreaths, Eal- ,' died made bis home f The crashing w»ves his lullaby, the sharp jagged t rocks hii bed, '.The morning'sun scarce piercing through the tan'h,' gle pfernead. >' The^fiiher-folki sttll show, the path his midnight iit .Vgnderirigitook,,: ■ . , ' , .., yToiseek.'foifbitter rootsfor bread, for;w»ter from j^thebrdoltVr "'C, '' 'v/ ' " ' wTteifiiher-folkhave legends ,the ITfceTrio&of iprayef and moari of pain rose mingled

And as he spoke the sacred'truth'the Church hud ' said so ofti . The gloom around was all illumined in a radi- ' ' anco sweet and soft. And haloed in the heavenly light, a Presence seemi .ed to stand, Who showed torn side, and bleeding brow, and nailpierccd foot and hand. "These were to save the «ouls of men," uttered - the Voice Divine ; Then, pointing Ealdred's wounds, it asked, " And for whose sake are thine?" The glow that dazzled all around, paled with Him as He spoke ; And winds and waves, that paused in awe, once more in thunder woke ; * And slowly over Ealdred's form, as prone on earth he lay, Broke the faint light that told the noon was high on Easter Day ; And the mists of pride and selfishness, were swept from heart and soul, The wasted life, the gilt misused, he saw and owned it all. And casting scourge and belt aside, from the foul cell ho crept, And, in the broad bright sunshine, sank by the sea and wept. Wept tears of healing penitence, wept happy healthful tears, Fraying his risen Lord to smile on his atoning years, ' Praying that ho might dedicate, the time in mercy given, To lighten lowly lives on earth, and lead those lives to Heaven. As violets in shy loveliness lurk in a rocky cleft, So legends of good Ealdred's work are on our seaboard left. How by the sick man's couch ho watched, how by the fisher's "hearth, He told of what our Lord had done, to bless and brighten earth. How, loving little children best, sharing their sport and food, Something of tender playfulness, mixed With his graver mood, As with sad eyes and gentle lip on towards another Lent, With fearless foot and helping hand, blessing and blest he went. But stern was then the Church's rule, and strong the Church's hand, And a voico against the cloister was as treason in the land. And weeping babes, and women pale, and men in helpless gloom, Gathered around the dungeon door, where Ealdred bided doom. But calmly slept the martyr, though round tho ready stake, The faggots heaped, for Easter-day an offering meet to make. And once again a vision passed before | his blissful sight. And once again he saw his Lord, all bathed in living light. And from the lips Divine, the words;f ell, low and lovingly, '< What thou hast given my little ones, thou gavestnntoMe;" " Come, good and faithful servant," oh, with such strength to bless, . What though the smoke and flame rose high, on shuddering Kettleness 1 The martyr's voice sang clear and true its psalm of faith and love, The martyr's spirit from its cross passed to its crown above. By noble work, not noisome cell, men cherish Ealdred's story, Who "did his best," on God's fair earth, and left to Him the glory. Susan K. phillips. In All The Year lioxind