And weel I ken they’d miss me, lad,
Gin I come hame nae mair.
The grist is out, the times are hard,
The kine are only three;
I canna leave the auld folk now.
We’d better bide a wee.
‘I fear me sair they’re failing baith;
For when I sit apart,
They talk o’ Heaven so earnestly,
It well nigh breaks my heart.
So, laddie, dinna urge me now,
It surely winna be;
I canna leave the auld folk yet.
We’d better bide a wee.’
I do love herLike a brother;Just to rideIs my delight,For she does notKick or bite,’
On the rippling waves, that brightly flowBeneath the flowering vines.Awake! Awake! for the low, sweet chantOf the wild-birds’ morning hymnComes floating by on the fragrant air,Through the forest cool and dim;Then spread each wing,And work, and sing,Through the long, bright sunny hours;O’er the pleasant earthWe journey forth,For a day among the flowers.Awake! Awake! for the…
Happy children, fresh and rosy,Sang and sported freely there,Often turning friendly glances,Where, neglectful of them all,On his bed among the gray rocks,Mused the pale child, little Paul.For he never joined their pastimes,Never danced upon the sand,Only smiled upon them kindly,Only waved his wasted hand.Many a treasured gift they bore him,Best beloved among them all.Many a…
Golden shadows like soft blessingsO’er a quiet little bed,Where a pale face lay unheedingTender tears that o’er it fell;No sorrow now could touch the heartOf gentle little Nell.Ah, with what silent patient strengthThe frail form lying thereHad borne its heavy load of grief,Of loneliness and care.Now, earthly burdens were laid down,And on the meek young…
Around it wistful sunbeams quiver,But Music’s airy voice is fled.Spring mourns as for untimely frost;The bluebird chants a requiem;The willow-blossom waits for him;The Genius of the wood is lost.’Then from the flute, untouched by hands,There came a low, harmonious breath:‘For such as he there is no death;His life the eternal life commands;Above man’s aims his…
And sturdily wash, and rinse, and wring,And fasten the clothes to dry;Then out in the free fresh air they swing,Under the sunny sky.I wish we could wash from our hearts and our soulsThe stains of the week away,And let water and air by their magic makeOurselves as pure as they;Then on the earth there would…
