To my Dear Stoke Friends,
January, 1886
I have often said could I
but find the time
You should, for once, a
letter have in rhyme
In the New Year. As this is
my first letter
I think to please you all. I
can't do better.
To you, dear Queen, I send
because I know
How very glad you are. It
should be so.
You will take care that all
the rest should learn
As much in it as does to
them concern.
First let me wish to all
that I know there
A very happy and a
prosperous year.
May all of this world's good
have plenteous store
Of heavenly riches. May you
gain much more.
May peace and joy within
your homes so dwell
That you may have no other
things to tell.
May the little chapel fast
grow and thrive
And all its members show
they are alive
That those who know not God
may ever see
What influence in the place
a Christian's life may be.
Though we have left you our
good wish remains,
And glad we are to hear you
still have with you Jane.
We often think when looking
on the sea
How quiet, when with you,
our Sabbaths used to be.
And though unto the place
we've bid adieu
The little chapel oft
appears in view.
I shut my eyes and see you
all come in
Some with their pattens
making such a din.
I see your husband in his
round smock frock
But sometimes he would wear
a nice brown coat.
Then Mrs. Strattford, Stone
and Foster all,
And dear old Mrs. Smith in
her grey shawl.
Dear Mrs. Baker, Rhoda
sitting by
And little Mrs. North was
often nigh
And you, dear Queene in your
mantle black
As you would glance to see
if I was back.
Then Martha in the front,
anxious to hear.
Not often was it that she
did, I fear.
Miss Becky Strattford and
the little Jane
With their friend, Foster,
who lived in the Lane.
He brought his little girl
with eyes so blue;
His wife, I know, sits in
the singing pew.
Mrs. Spriles I can see, with
her little Ben.
I guess now he is big, but
he was little then.
There's Master Weedon
Langston with their wives.
I trust the Gospel
influences their lives.
The singers in their pew I
see life-like,
And Jane awaiting the first
note to strike.
Sometimes I was too early
(not the rule)
Before the proper time to
close the School.
Then Master North up at the
clock would look
And say, "Now,
Teachers, time to close the Book."
And Mrs. Smith would say
with serious face,
"Now, my Dears, go
quiet to your place.
Then all the preachers I so
well remember
Who used to come in spite of
wind or weather.
When Mr. Keyworth came we
all did much rejoice,
And we liked Mr. Humphries,
though too loud his voice.
Mr. Edwin Moses who I am
sure does not forget
That Good Friday when so
many in the Chapel sat.
And my dear Ernest softly
did begin
"When I survey the
wondrous Cross" to sing
And all the people as with
one accord
Joined in with him to sing
of Christ the Lord.
Then from the Book of Daniel
Mr. Hearn
Would say some lesson from
it we should learn.
Mr. Tuckwell hard-working
man would come
Though often felt he ought
to be at home.
When Mr. Madden came he gave
us Temperance strong
And if he had his will
'twould not be long
Before the country should be
rid of beer,
That horrid stuff that makes
so many queer.
Then Master Richard with his
wondrous story
Of what he thought about the
King of Glory.
I did not always like the
things he said,
But Mrs. Smith would smile
and nod her head
And I believe enjoy it quite
as much
As dear Charles Garret, or
any other such.
Mr. John Rose, I must not
him forget;
To hear him how oft with
pleasure I have sat.
He spoke of rivers, lakes,
Italian skies,
How glorious on the Alps the
sun doth rise,
And showed that nature, like
the written Word,
Alike does teach us of our
risen Lord.
Then Mr. Grist from
Whitchurch, all that way,
He was so cheerful we quite
hailed the day
When he would talk to us of
Heaven above
And tell us all up there is
joy and love.
Old Dr. Turner gave us
heavenly food
Lifted us up and to our
souls did good.
Mr. Molls to please us from
the Holy Word
Told how the lame man leaped
and praised the Lord.
Dear Mr. Monk we thought
some good was doing
After the time when he left
off the brewing.
My dear son, Edward, once in
that house of Prayer
Spoke from "And they
sat down and watched Him there."
But to crown all, what joy
it did afford
Those happy times when we
had Mr. Ward:
The children even would be
glad. Meanwhile
How dear old Mrs. Smith with
joy would smile.
He used to tell us of the
old, old story
How Christ the Lord Who is
the King of Glory
Would save us all from
endless death and sin
And how through Christ a
glorious crown to win.
And when my two dear girls
were home, I say
How Mr. Ward would have them
sing and play.
Ah, now they both have gone
away from me
And sing their songs in
quite a different key.
That was a pleasure when I
came to read
I trust it was like sowing
the good seed.
The hours were happy spent
within the lot
Peep behind the scenes I
know was not forgot.
Then in your house I would
have a little chat,
Talk to the Master and to
Joe the cat
When he came in to supper
and to tea
How proudly then Joe sat
upon his knee.
Very peaceful, happy passed
away those years,
So much so that parting
caused some tears.
But now we share the beauty
of the sea;
We cannot wish again at
Stoke to be.
While here we can such
various pleasures share
We could not have for love
or money there.
Here are the steamers daily
in our sight
To take us over to the Isle
of Wight
Where there is much of
beauty to be seen,
Also the home of our Beloved
Queen.
Here lies the ship in which
Lord Nelson died
And many other big ships by
her side.
Hundreds of soldiers with
their Merry Band
And jolly sailors as they
are on land.
Chapels and Churches we have
any number,
That we don't pine for Stoke
you cannot wonder.
More I could tell but find
that I must end
So close with saying, yours
a distant friend,
I hope that I have not
forgot or left one in the lurch,
If so, do ask them to
forgive their old friend, Mrs. Birch.
(copied by Eulene Moores,
2002)