Home Lyrics: A Book of Poems — Text and Context
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The catalog record for Home Lyrics: A Book of Poems — Text and Context provides practical reading context through 29,680 words, 2 hr 10 min estimated reading time, and 6 detected text sections.
The text analysis averages about 26.0 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.
Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Canadian poetry -- 19th century,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.
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- Title & short description10 pts
- Source metadata20 pts
- Text length15 pts
- Chapters / structure15 pts
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Who had none else to cheer, Some, guardians of fond sisters, Many to wives most dear!
Ah! who can tell the sorrow Intailed by war's foul breath, Or gauge the dire inheritance Of all this murderous death! The sinew of their country, The hope of years to come, Cut down in prime of manhood, Buried in stranger tomb!
O sages, statesmen, rulers, Bestir yourselves and teach The nation's misled millions A higher goal to reach; Exchange for greed and murder, A reign of peace divine; Thus, elevate earth's children To brotherhood sublime!
Thus spake the gentle angel As, gathering each fond prayer, She wreathed them into garlands, Of flowerets rich and rare For Sardanapolis to plant, Where they shall ever bloom, In the eternal gardens Beyond the silent tomb.
CHARLES OLIVES BAYLIS, M.D., M.R.C.S.,
_Late Medical Officer of Health for West Kent, and formerly of Birkenhead_.
DIED DECEMBER 12TH, 1884.
Broken the silver cord! the harp unstrung! And kindred hearts with grief and anguish wrung, For a beloved one from the earth hath flown Leaving his dear ones desolate and lone.
Cheerless, deserted now each empty place, So lately filled by him with radiant grace; Sad memories in each lone corner dwell, Vocal of him our torn hearts loved so well.
To feelings sympathetic and refined, He joined a well-stored, richly cultured mind, Where holy reason held her peerless sway, Dictating all he had to do and say.
Self-discipline in action, thought and deed, Was his uncompromising, glorious creed; To do to others as he would that they Should do to him, his crystal rule each day.
Dark superstition never gained his ear, Or led to slavish and debasing fear; A hater of hypocrisy in all The varied forms by which it doth enthrall.
His logical and comprehensive mind, Was marvellously gentle, loving, kind, Which gave him with his patients wonderous power, And served them well in many a trying hour.
A man of penetration, forethought, tact, Loving to solve, elucidate each fact; He firmly held to truth with friend and foe, And ne'er was known to act from greed or show.
A safe and trusted counsellor was he, And helpful, sweet companion as could be, Of such calm, chastened thought, that all he said Was fraught with wisdom, and by justice led.
His sense of duty formed the crucial test By which to rule his actions, work and rest. And his well-regulated heart and mind Were full of charity towards all mankind.
A zealous public worker in the cause Of sanitation, based on nature's laws; For fifteen years in Birkenhead and Kent, To this great end he his rare knowledge lent.
He loved his work and duties, as some love Their pleasures, and with earnest purpose strove, To prove that each right action surely brought Its blessing, as all evil misery wrought.
Entheal concord, where 'twas possible, And truth and justice made it feasible, The armour his peace-loving spirit wore, The love-crowned banner which aloft he bore.
The beautiful in nature and in art, Charmed and delighted his devoted heart, A gorgeous sunset, and a moonlit sky, Ne'er failed to captivate both mind and eye.
As circlets made by weights flung in the deep, Clear multiplying forms concentric keep, Obedient to the heavenly law sublime, Each circle forming others through all time.
So our beloved one leaves his track behind, Of multiplying circles to his kind, In the rich lessons of his well-spent life, With holy God-like teachings ever rife.
No storied marble setting forth his praise, A more enduring monument could raise, Than the productive seed which he has sown, Which chants his requiem in undying tone.
A priceless heritage he leaves behind, In the example of his well-trained mind, A blessed Aftermath! God grant that we May tune our hearts to its sweet melody.
For though the jewel casket be no more Amongst us, as in happier days of yore, The radiance of the gem it held will still Remain our lonely home and hearts to fill.
Let us then try courageously to tread, The footprints where his noble teachings led, With self-denying zeal right onward go, Striving to vanquish every inward foe.
And thus we'll hope to meet again once more Unitedly with loved ones gone before, In the divine hereafter-home above, Safe in each other's and the Father's love.
_Died at Longueuil August 2nd, 1884_.
AGED 6 YEARS AND 7 MONTHS.
A fair child of promise, just nipped in the bud, To plant on heavenly shore, To bloom and expand in its love-light and peace Not dead, only gone there before!
Just six years he lived in his loved earthly home, His fond parents' joy and delight, Where his bright little spirit shed gladness around, And filled it with radiant light.
The opening poem, 'To the Memory of a Beloved Son,' establishes a pattern of direct address and emotional candor that runs through this volume. Battersby writes of a son whose 'manly face would glow with honest glee' and whose 'quick impulsive heart' responded to both 'mirthful joy or sorrowing grief.' The poem's formal quatrains and end-stopped lines give a measured, almost hymn-like quality to personal loss.
Yet the collection quickly shifts register. 'A Voice from St. George's Hall' adopts a ballad-like meter to urge Liverpool's citizens to support a convalescent hospital bazaar, while 'Cleopatra's Needle' turns to historical meditation on an Egyptian obelisk. This range—from domestic grief to civic appeal to antiquarian reflection—characterizes the volume's restless variety.
Grief and Commemoration
The volume opens with a sustained elegy for a son who died in 1887. Battersby dwells on specific memories: his 'true affection, manners gently gay,' the 'kiss that seems e'en now / Warm on my lips and brow.' The poem's structure—regular quatrains with alternating rhyme—lends a formal dignity to the outpouring. Other poems in the collection, such as 'In Memoriam' and 'It is but an Autumn Leaflet,' continue this thread of loss and remembrance.
Notably, the poet does not retreat into abstraction. She recalls concrete details: the son's 'parental pride' as he 'fondly gazed on his loved family,' his 'practical display of sympathy.' The grief is personal, not generalized. Yet the same voice that mourns a child also writes public poems for civic causes, suggesting a poet who saw no boundary between private emotion and communal responsibility.
Civic Appeals and Social Observation
'A Voice from St. George's Hall' is a direct plea to the citizens of Liverpool to support a convalescent hospital bazaar. The poem's tone is urgent and practical: 'The Convalescent Hospital / Stands burdened with a debt.' Battersby lists the wares on offer—'work marvellously wrought,' 'good plain, homely garments,' 'artificial flowers'—and even addresses different potential buyers: 'Presents there are for Boys and Girls, / And darling Pets at home.'
Similarly, 'To the Museum Committee' argues for Sunday museum openings, framing access to culture as a public good. These poems use direct address ('O ye in power') and a persuasive, almost parliamentary rhetoric. They reveal a poet engaged with the social issues of her time, comfortable moving from the intimate to the institutional.
Historical and Reflective Verse
'Cleopatra's Needle' exemplifies Battersby's interest in historical objects and their meanings. The poem traces the obelisk's journey from ancient Egypt to London, noting its 'lone majesty' and the 'grandest era of Egyptian skill.' She contrasts the durability of stone with the transience of empires: 'Thus perish all things, save the spirit free.'
The poem also engages with contemporary debates about the obelisk's relocation, praising the 'generous donor' and the 'skilful Dixon and his gallant crew.' Battersby uses the artifact to reflect on faith and cultural continuity, urging readers to 'consecrate / Anew this worship-sign of ancient date.' This blend of antiquarian detail and moral reflection appears in other poems like 'The Brooklyn Catastrophe' and 'The Naini Tal Catastrophe,' where natural disasters prompt meditations on human fragility.
Readers approaching this volume should be prepared for shifts in subject and tone. The poems reward attention to their formal choices—rhyme schemes, stanza patterns, and direct address—which often carry the emotional weight. The collection is best read not as a unified statement but as a series of distinct performances, each responding to a different occasion or impulse. The index itself, with its mix of personal elegies, civic appeals, and nature poems, offers a map of the poet's varied concerns.
I keep thinking about how that second volume holds grief so gently, then turns toward ancient stones and street-level worries, the way a heart does after loss. It reminded me of Poems of the Heart and Home — Text and Context, which also sits with quiet domestic ache. Both feel like someone speaking low, almost to themselves, and that lingers longest.
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