And ever at the loom of Birth 
The mighty Mother weaves and sings: 
She weaves—fresh robes for mangled earth ; 
She sings—fresh hopes for desperate things. 
And thou too: if through Nature’s calm 
Some strain of music touch thine ears, 
Accept and share that soothing balm, 
And sing, though choked with pitying tears. 
This brings us to the year of his appointment to the 
Canonry at Chester. When we consider how short a time 
he was at Chester, it is remarkable that he should have made 
the very deep impression he did, an impression which seems 
to grow only deeper as the years run by. Of course he was 
one who would make an impression wherever he went, and 
at once. He was so affectionate as well as forceful. But 
that is not the whole explanation. He had an especial 
affection for Chester, and his three years here were his 
happy evening hour. We may be sure that he was quite 
sincere when he said that he would not have left Chester 
for Westminster if it had not been for the reason already 
mentioned, but which in his failing health had become more 
pressing—his children had to be provided for ; he could 
no longer work double-tides ; and Westminster seemed to 
promise an end to anxiety and freedom to devote himself 
wholly to what he had always believed his proper work. 
The promise however was not fulfilled in the way expected. 
Illness obliged him to begin this new piece of life by a 
voyage to America. He returned and he preached in 
Westminster Abbey. But he had hardly time for more 
than that. He died at Eversley on January 23rd, 1875, 
aged 55 years. 
The vovage to America was the last of the four 
holidays. Like the others it is entered in the poem-diary. 
The entry is a ‘‘ Ballad’’ with a strange refrain. It 
begins ‘‘ Are you ready for your steeple-chase, Lorraine, 
Lorraine, Lorrée?’’ It tells how the woman refused to 
ride the horse with its ominous name ‘‘ Vindictive :’’ 
I cannot ride Vindictive, as any man might see, 
And I will not ride Vindictive, with this baby on my 
knee ; 
He’s killed a boy, he’s killed a man, and why must 
he kill me? 
But her husband compels her, by a very dastardly threat, 
and 
She mastered young Vindictive 
was she, 
And. kept him straight and won the race as near as 
near could be ; 
Oh! the gallant lass 
