THE SCOTCH GATHERING.
Hurrah for Scotland's ancient flag!
Now floating on the breeze; Its every wave in vision paints
A clime beyond the seas.
Now floating on the breeze; Its every wave in vision paints
A clime beyond the seas.
And, as that music fills the air
Which breathes of mountain-steep, Our spirits wander back again
To where our fathers sleep.
Which breathes of mountain-steep, Our spirits wander back again
To where our fathers sleep.
Again we hear the dashing foam
Which plunges down the dell; Or ramble o'er the broomy knowes,
Or cull the sweet bluebell.
Which plunges down the dell; Or ramble o'er the broomy knowes,
Or cull the sweet bluebell.
Or sit in restful gloaming-tide,
'Neath honeysuckle porch, And watch the tewhits winging low
Beyond the old, grey church,
'Neath honeysuckle porch, And watch the tewhits winging low
Beyond the old, grey church,
As balmy breath of briar and thyme
Comes wafted o'er the moor, And sheds the gold, laburnum fringe
Upon its grassy floor.
Comes wafted o'er the moor, And sheds the gold, laburnum fringe
Upon its grassy floor.
Or linger by the martyrs' grave;
Or tread the hallowed sod Where Hope and Valour stoutly fought
For country and for God.
Or tread the hallowed sod Where Hope and Valour stoutly fought
For country and for God.
The Cora Lynn yet sings the dirge
And deeds of Wallace wight; Whilst Bannockburn still echoes forth
Who bravely died for right.
And deeds of Wallace wight; Whilst Bannockburn still echoes forth
Who bravely died for right.
Oh! beauteous, tender mountain land!
Where'er thy children roam, Along their lives the heartstrings thrill
To tune of "Home! sweet Home!"
Where'er thy children roam, Along their lives the heartstrings thrill
To tune of "Home! sweet Home!"
Thy halls of learning grace the earth,
And dignify the name Which side by side hath ever stood
With honor, truth and fame.
And dignify the name Which side by side hath ever stood
With honor, truth and fame.
Thy sons, who now with strong, right arm
The stone and hammer wield, Type well the sires who glory gained,
Or perished on the field.
The stone and hammer wield, Type well the sires who glory gained,
Or perished on the field.
Now, three cheers for our Highland Chief!
Three more for the Macneill![Note] Three for all those who fondly prize
The land we love sae weel!
Three more for the Macneill![Note] Three for all those who fondly prize
The land we love sae weel!
And three cheers for our noble Queen!
Who from the Bruce descends; Whose life, attuned to sympathy,
A nation's love defends.
Who from the Bruce descends; Whose life, attuned to sympathy,
A nation's love defends.
SKYE.
Hail to the clime of the mist and the mountain!
Of cataract foaming in boisterous glee; Hail to Cuchullin! proud-peering through cloudland,
In red, rocky grandeur, from sea unto sea. Fair isle of the patriot, the sage and the songster!
Thou shrine of the deeds of the noble and brave! Who lived for their kinsmen, who died for their country;
Whose ashes repose in a far, foreign grave.
Of cataract foaming in boisterous glee; Hail to Cuchullin! proud-peering through cloudland,
In red, rocky grandeur, from sea unto sea. Fair isle of the patriot, the sage and the songster!
Thou shrine of the deeds of the noble and brave! Who lived for their kinsmen, who died for their country;
Whose ashes repose in a far, foreign grave.
Of spirit undaunted, of intellect bright
As the glistening lakes in thy bosom which lie; The archives of learning, the annals of might
Shall lustre for ever the heroes of Skye.[Note] Injustice may scathe thee, deep gloom thee surround,
Thy night shall yet vanish, bright dawn to restore; When peace and fair plenty once more shall abound,
From Macleod's sea-girt castle to Armadale's shore.
As the glistening lakes in thy bosom which lie; The archives of learning, the annals of might
Shall lustre for ever the heroes of Skye.[Note] Injustice may scathe thee, deep gloom thee surround,
Thy night shall yet vanish, bright dawn to restore; When peace and fair plenty once more shall abound,
From Macleod's sea-girt castle to Armadale's shore.
"BONNIE DUNDEE."
Whene'er I hear the well-kent tune
My heart gangs ower the sea And communes with the loved o' yore
In the dear auld countrie.
Ance mair I run, wi' lichtsome step
And spirits fu' o' glee Ane o' a joyous, childish group
To school, in fair Dundee.
My heart gangs ower the sea And communes with the loved o' yore
In the dear auld countrie.
Ance mair I run, wi' lichtsome step
And spirits fu' o' glee Ane o' a joyous, childish group
To school, in fair Dundee.
Ah! many a year has come and gane
Yet, time's long bridge atween I overstep, and live the past
As if it happed yestreen.
Yet, time's long bridge atween I overstep, and live the past
As if it happed yestreen.
Though mony a hand is cauld in death,
And mony a grave grows green O' those that made the Yule-tide bricht
And hanselled Hallowe'en.
And mony a grave grows green O' those that made the Yule-tide bricht
And hanselled Hallowe'en.
But, sometimes from the music creeps
A sicht that blurs the sang;— 'Twould discord sweetest tones e'er sung,
And put the minstrel wrang.
A sicht that blurs the sang;— 'Twould discord sweetest tones e'er sung,
And put the minstrel wrang.
It is the picture o' a hame
O' Scotland's peasantry; In front stands Graeme of Claverhouse
The braw Viscount Dundee.
The troopers rein their panting steeds
Their General's will to bide; As, clinging to their mother's gown
The frightened bairnies hide.
O' Scotland's peasantry; In front stands Graeme of Claverhouse
The braw Viscount Dundee.
The troopers rein their panting steeds
Their General's will to bide; As, clinging to their mother's gown
The frightened bairnies hide.
I hear the haughty "Where is he?"
But—Oh, she answers well! Her faithful heart love fortified,
"That same I will na tell."
But—Oh, she answers well! Her faithful heart love fortified,
"That same I will na tell."
Dark grew his scowl; as fierce wild beast
Defrauded of its prey, With thirst of blood insatiate,
He gave his passions play.
Defrauded of its prey, With thirst of blood insatiate,
He gave his passions play.
"Then, woman, thou shalt surely die
Who darest me to my face!" The husband heard these words of doom
And left his hiding place.
Who darest me to my face!" The husband heard these words of doom
And left his hiding place.
Alack, the courtly cavalier!
The bonnie, braw[Note] Dundee! What odium of saintly blood
Must ever cling to thee.
The bonnie, braw[Note] Dundee! What odium of saintly blood
Must ever cling to thee.
He stood his human target up,
He gave the order "Fire!" Yet, every gun was mute, for ance
His veterans braved his ire.
He gave the order "Fire!" Yet, every gun was mute, for ance
His veterans braved his ire.
He raised aloft a coward hand
And shot his victim down;— But lang in Scotia's heart will live
The memory o' John Brown.
And shot his victim down;— But lang in Scotia's heart will live
The memory o' John Brown.
The widowed knelt upon the sward,
Her apron she unbound; And tenderly, her loved dead
In reddening shroud she wound;
Her apron she unbound; And tenderly, her loved dead
In reddening shroud she wound;
"What think ye o' your husband now?"
The murderer demands Of the humble woman, in her woe
Clasped firm by bairnies' hands.
The murderer demands Of the humble woman, in her woe
Clasped firm by bairnies' hands.
She raised the head upon her lap,
She kissed the yet warm brow; "I aye thocht muckle o'm," she said
"But mair than ever now."
She kissed the yet warm brow; "I aye thocht muckle o'm," she said
"But mair than ever now."
Oh, woe for Scotland when her king
Stept 'twixt her and her God! And baptized in her martyrs' gore
Each cave and moorland sod.
Stept 'twixt her and her God! And baptized in her martyrs' gore
Each cave and moorland sod.
And woe to every servile hand
O' persecution's slaves! Who load their weakling souls wi' guilt
At beck o' deeper knaves.
O' persecution's slaves! Who load their weakling souls wi' guilt
At beck o' deeper knaves.
Beyond a' creeds and rites o' rule;
True faith shall never fail; As lighthouse built on solid rock
'Twill weather every gale.
True faith shall never fail; As lighthouse built on solid rock
'Twill weather every gale.
And though, unto the powers that be
A loyal lay she'll sing, Auld Scotland's soul will bend to nane
Save Heaven's own glorious King.
A loyal lay she'll sing, Auld Scotland's soul will bend to nane
Save Heaven's own glorious King.
THE HEATHERBELL.
Old England wreathes her gorgeous rose
With minstrelsy sublime; The flower to Highland hearts most dear,
I fain would praise in rhyme.
With minstrelsy sublime; The flower to Highland hearts most dear,
I fain would praise in rhyme.
It bloometh not in palace grounds,
But on the rough hillside; It boasteth no patrician birth,
It is a people's pride.
But on the rough hillside; It boasteth no patrician birth,
It is a people's pride.
Where streamlet leaves its rocky bed
To warble o'er the plain; Where cataract leaps forth in foam,
On to the seething main.
To warble o'er the plain; Where cataract leaps forth in foam,
On to the seething main.
Down-trampled on the serried field
Where love from love was riven; Where patriot soul was offered up
As incense unto Heaven.
Where love from love was riven; Where patriot soul was offered up
As incense unto Heaven.
Where young hearts meet at eventide,
The old, old tale to tell; In shady nooks, by purling brooks,
There blooms the sweet harebell.
The old, old tale to tell; In shady nooks, by purling brooks,
There blooms the sweet harebell.
Where cadence of the martyrs' hymn
Bright seraphim revoiced, As e'en from moorland, fen and cave
Old Scotia's saints rejoiced.
Bright seraphim revoiced, As e'en from moorland, fen and cave
Old Scotia's saints rejoiced.
Where ruin mocks those hoary towers
In which mailed knight held sway; Beside the peaceful cottage door,
Type of this better day.
In which mailed knight held sway; Beside the peaceful cottage door,
Type of this better day.
Bright silvery lochs! dark frowning crags!
Which Scotia's history tell; Ye impress on my heart of hearts
The land I love so well.
Which Scotia's history tell; Ye impress on my heart of hearts
The land I love so well.
And, through the golden glory-glist
O'er mount, and rock and fell, There smileth up to Memory's eyes
The dear, Scotch Heatherbell.
O'er mount, and rock and fell, There smileth up to Memory's eyes
The dear, Scotch Heatherbell.
BONNIER.
Oh! bonnie is the tender licht
Within the lovers' een; But, bonnier a soul that's bricht,
A conscience ever clean. And braw the form o' manly youth,
Wi' bearing firm and free; Yet, grander far the lip o' truth,
And heart o' constancy.
Within the lovers' een; But, bonnier a soul that's bricht,
A conscience ever clean. And braw the form o' manly youth,
Wi' bearing firm and free; Yet, grander far the lip o' truth,
And heart o' constancy.
Oh! radiant gleam the marble halls
And mausoleums o' pride; But kindlier the love-licht falls
Around mine ain fireside. And blithe the merry mavis' sang
Ower copse, an' clover lea; Yet, cheerier tones I'll lilt ere lang,
Through a' eternity.
And mausoleums o' pride; But kindlier the love-licht falls
Around mine ain fireside. And blithe the merry mavis' sang
Ower copse, an' clover lea; Yet, cheerier tones I'll lilt ere lang,
Through a' eternity.
THE DOCTORS FEE.
It was a dazzling equipage
That drove up to the door; It was a note with lordly crest
The liveried footman bore. A note for Doctor Harrington
From Lady Cecil Grey; It told of sickness at the Hall
And begged for no delay.
That drove up to the door; It was a note with lordly crest
The liveried footman bore. A note for Doctor Harrington
From Lady Cecil Grey; It told of sickness at the Hall
And begged for no delay.
The young physician pondered
If luck his path had found; Meanwhile the highly-mettled steeds
Impatient paw the ground. "'Tis passing strange her ladyship
Though odd, should summon me;"— High hung the omen of success,
Bright gleamed the golden fee.
If luck his path had found; Meanwhile the highly-mettled steeds
Impatient paw the ground. "'Tis passing strange her ladyship
Though odd, should summon me;"— High hung the omen of success,
Bright gleamed the golden fee.
Two miles along the country road,
Two miles of avenue And, 'yond the lily-bordered lake,
Fair turrets rise to view. Oh! common ills of base-born life
How could ye venture near? Why should your breath, Oh foul disease!
Pollute such atmosphere?
Deep sadness broodeth o'er the Hall,
Scent-laden breezes sigh, Though linnets pipe their tuneful song,
And cushat-doves reply. The menials walk with noiseless tread
Across the French-tiled floor; And, on its glittering hinges
Swings back the oaken door.
Two miles of avenue And, 'yond the lily-bordered lake,
Fair turrets rise to view. Oh! common ills of base-born life
How could ye venture near? Why should your breath, Oh foul disease!
Pollute such atmosphere?
Deep sadness broodeth o'er the Hall,
Scent-laden breezes sigh, Though linnets pipe their tuneful song,
And cushat-doves reply. The menials walk with noiseless tread
Across the French-tiled floor; And, on its glittering hinges
Swings back the oaken door.
"Oh doctor!" quoth the Lady Grey
With outstretched jeweled hand, "I am in depths of sore distress
But—you will understand. It comforts me, that to my wish
The answer came so quick; See!" and she drew the screen aside;—
"My favorite cat is sick."
With outstretched jeweled hand, "I am in depths of sore distress
But—you will understand. It comforts me, that to my wish
The answer came so quick; See!" and she drew the screen aside;—
"My favorite cat is sick."
Well was it that the patient lay
Within a darkened room; The sunlight on the doctor's face
Had sunk in sudden gloom. 'Twas but a moment; skilled, acute
And witty too, withal, With sober and respectful mien
He kept his thoughts in thrall.
Within a darkened room; The sunlight on the doctor's face
Had sunk in sudden gloom. 'Twas but a moment; skilled, acute
And witty too, withal, With sober and respectful mien
He kept his thoughts in thrall.
What were those thoughts? upon that couch
By rarest art compiled, Lay soulless brute, while o'er the wilds
Strayed many a starving child. But wealth oft nurseth foibles
To fill its empty day; And workers cater for its will
Who hope for handsome pay.
By rarest art compiled, Lay soulless brute, while o'er the wilds
Strayed many a starving child. But wealth oft nurseth foibles
To fill its empty day; And workers cater for its will
Who hope for handsome pay.
With solemn guise he lent his ear
For quite a lengthened space; Then, with a grave obsequiousness,
He diagnosed the case. "His stomach is, for sure, deranged;
No appetite hath he; Yet time and care effect a change,
Wilt thou trust him with me?"
For quite a lengthened space; Then, with a grave obsequiousness,
He diagnosed the case. "His stomach is, for sure, deranged;
No appetite hath he; Yet time and care effect a change,
Wilt thou trust him with me?"
A maiden, on a cushion soft,
The precious tabby bore To the escutcheoned carriage which
Soon halted as before. And the doctor raised his patient
And stroked his shiny pate, Then—in the pantry, 'neath a tub,
Consigned him to his fate.
The precious tabby bore To the escutcheoned carriage which
Soon halted as before. And the doctor raised his patient
And stroked his shiny pate, Then—in the pantry, 'neath a tub,
Consigned him to his fate.
Withhold thy censure! rude this course
Yet savoring keen insight; Four days of prison treatment brought
Luxurious Tabby right. Mote all the victims of excess
Be held in durance vile A wholesome world would bloom apace,
And peace and plenty smile.
Yet savoring keen insight; Four days of prison treatment brought
Luxurious Tabby right. Mote all the victims of excess
Be held in durance vile A wholesome world would bloom apace,
And peace and plenty smile.
The proverb reads "'Tis an ill wind
That bloweth no one good" And in the sequel of this tale
Be that fact understood. For the fancies of a weakling
And over-pampered mind Were ladders by which highest aim
Could fairer prospect find.
That bloweth no one good" And in the sequel of this tale
Be that fact understood. For the fancies of a weakling
And over-pampered mind Were ladders by which highest aim
Could fairer prospect find.
Back came dear Tabby to the Hall
With appetite restored; Glad to devour the meanest crumb
He hitherto ignored, To Lady Cecil's wonderment.
With generous courtesy She poured from out her silken purse
The shining golden fee,
With appetite restored; Glad to devour the meanest crumb
He hitherto ignored, To Lady Cecil's wonderment.
With generous courtesy She poured from out her silken purse
The shining golden fee,
She placed it in the doctor's hand.
"Five hundred pounds a year As my physician you may claim;"—
She praised him far and near. He gained the best of patronage
Through all the country side; He wooed a baron's daughter fair,
And won her for his bride.
"Five hundred pounds a year As my physician you may claim;"—
She praised him far and near. He gained the best of patronage
Through all the country side; He wooed a baron's daughter fair,
And won her for his bride.
No more chagrin, nor vexed delays;
No plodding up the hill; Life's current flowed as peaceful stream
Which works the well-set mill. The noble Countess and her cat
Have long since passed away; But the witty doctor lives and thrives
In green old age this day.
No plodding up the hill; Life's current flowed as peaceful stream
Which works the well-set mill. The noble Countess and her cat
Have long since passed away; But the witty doctor lives and thrives
In green old age this day.
THE VISION.
I dreamt that I culled the wild flowers on the moorland,
And roamed o'er the hills which my forefathers trod, Ere their life-blood empurpled the fields of Hispania;
Ere their souls soared on high to the patriot's God. I saw, to the call of the pibroch, advancing
O'er mountain, o'er river, o'er blossoming plain, The strength of strong manhood, the youthful in daring;
The thousands who went, but who came not again.
And roamed o'er the hills which my forefathers trod, Ere their life-blood empurpled the fields of Hispania;
Ere their souls soared on high to the patriot's God. I saw, to the call of the pibroch, advancing
O'er mountain, o'er river, o'er blossoming plain, The strength of strong manhood, the youthful in daring;
The thousands who went, but who came not again.
The many moons passed as a breath, in bright dreamland,
I looked from lone valley to sea-beaten shore; Two frigates,[Note] full-manned with a nation's defenders,
Britannia's proud ensign defiantly bore. Then up from the shadows came voices long silenced;
"Oh Britain! thou boast of the free and the brave; We fought, and we died for thy honor, thy freedom,
Thou yieldest our offspring no boon but the grave."
I looked from lone valley to sea-beaten shore; Two frigates,[Note] full-manned with a nation's defenders,
Britannia's proud ensign defiantly bore. Then up from the shadows came voices long silenced;
"Oh Britain! thou boast of the free and the brave; We fought, and we died for thy honor, thy freedom,
Thou yieldest our offspring no boon but the grave."
Dark visions rolled off with the mists of the morning;
High o'er the green larches white smoke-wreaths had curled; And the tender sun beaming from out the clear ether,
Was the hopefuller sun of an opening world. And over wide ocean a warbler came winging,
Who sang, as he dropped a heathbell by our door, "The shadows are flitting, the day-dawn is breaking,
The long night of sorrow will darken no more."
High o'er the green larches white smoke-wreaths had curled; And the tender sun beaming from out the clear ether,
Was the hopefuller sun of an opening world. And over wide ocean a warbler came winging,
Who sang, as he dropped a heathbell by our door, "The shadows are flitting, the day-dawn is breaking,
The long night of sorrow will darken no more."
LOCH KATRINE.
Loch Katrine's bonnie banks an' braes,
Though lang I've left them a', laddie, 'Thochts o' them, an' ither days
Maist break my heart in twa, laddie. Fu' thretty years o' storm an' shine
Sin' first we crossed the ocean's brine,
Yet closely roond oor hearts entwine
The mem'ries o' lang syne, laddie.
Though lang I've left them a', laddie, 'Thochts o' them, an' ither days
Maist break my heart in twa, laddie. Fu' thretty years o' storm an' shine
Sin' first we crossed the ocean's brine,
Yet closely roond oor hearts entwine
The mem'ries o' lang syne, laddie.
Oh! mind ye o' the leafy bowers
Within the sylvan shade, laddie, Where aft we pu'd the wild-wood flowers,
As warblers stirred the glade, laddie? Wi' step sae buoyant, firm an' free
I hurried tae the trystin' tree;—
Sae sacred then tae Love an' thee;
To love, an' thee, an' me, laddie.
Within the sylvan shade, laddie, Where aft we pu'd the wild-wood flowers,
As warblers stirred the glade, laddie? Wi' step sae buoyant, firm an' free
I hurried tae the trystin' tree;—
Sae sacred then tae Love an' thee;
To love, an' thee, an' me, laddie.
In school, at sport, in whirlin' dance,
Thy rival was nae seen, laddie, Nae ither suitor won a glance
Frae me, the village queen, laddie. Then ebon was my glossy hair,
Thy crown o' curls was gowden fair;
Now time—wha rich nor puir will spare—
Has bleached oor locks to sna, laddie.
Thy rival was nae seen, laddie, Nae ither suitor won a glance
Frae me, the village queen, laddie. Then ebon was my glossy hair,
Thy crown o' curls was gowden fair;
Now time—wha rich nor puir will spare—
Has bleached oor locks to sna, laddie.
Nae mair upon auld Scotia's shore
Wi' willing feet we'll stray, laddie, Nor greet the freens we loved o' yore,
The yore sae far away, laddie. Nae mair we'll see the sunbeams rest
Upon Ben Ledi's haughty crest,
As, reddening a' the distant west,
Sol sinks aneath the wave, laddie.
Wi' willing feet we'll stray, laddie, Nor greet the freens we loved o' yore,
The yore sae far away, laddie. Nae mair we'll see the sunbeams rest
Upon Ben Ledi's haughty crest,
As, reddening a' the distant west,
Sol sinks aneath the wave, laddie.
Nae mair we'll watch the rushin' tide
Sweep ower the yellow sands, laddie, But far ayont the ither side
We'll clasp the lang missed hands, laddie. Yes! far ayont the mist an' rain,
An' days of toil, an' nichts o' pain,
Wide scattered flocks will meet again
Nae mair to part for aye, laddie.
Sweep ower the yellow sands, laddie, But far ayont the ither side
We'll clasp the lang missed hands, laddie. Yes! far ayont the mist an' rain,
An' days of toil, an' nichts o' pain,
Wide scattered flocks will meet again
Nae mair to part for aye, laddie.
As frost dispels 'fore kindly thaw
When Spring's saft breezes blow, laddie, So gently may we slip awa'
To joys nae mortals know, laddie. For as the sun clears aff the dew,
Our withered lives will bloom anew,
When this fause world shall fade frae view
In fairer worlds abune, laddie.
When Spring's saft breezes blow, laddie, So gently may we slip awa'
To joys nae mortals know, laddie. For as the sun clears aff the dew,
Our withered lives will bloom anew,
When this fause world shall fade frae view
In fairer worlds abune, laddie.
CONTENT.
In splendour of an Eastern night,
Where Luna softly smiles, I've sailed along the shimmering tide
Which laves the Classic Isles. Or led the dance in courtly hall,
'Mid gayest of the throng; Or listed to rare artistes pour
Their witchery of song. And 'yond the murky Tiber's wave
Have strolled 'neath Pincian shade; As sunlight streamed o'er Saxon fair,
Or dark-eyed Roman maid.
Where Luna softly smiles, I've sailed along the shimmering tide
Which laves the Classic Isles. Or led the dance in courtly hall,
'Mid gayest of the throng; Or listed to rare artistes pour
Their witchery of song. And 'yond the murky Tiber's wave
Have strolled 'neath Pincian shade; As sunlight streamed o'er Saxon fair,
Or dark-eyed Roman maid.
In dreamland oft our Highland hills
Forth from the shadows spring, All radiant in their purple bloom;
Meet haunts of forest king. And up the green-arched avenue,
And o'er the daisied lawn Troop faces bright, and hearts as light
As step of mountain fawn. And artless voices drown in mirth
The sighing of the breeze;— But memory opes, the vision fades;
Wail not their fate; Oh Seas!
Forth from the shadows spring, All radiant in their purple bloom;
Meet haunts of forest king. And up the green-arched avenue,
And o'er the daisied lawn Troop faces bright, and hearts as light
As step of mountain fawn. And artless voices drown in mirth
The sighing of the breeze;— But memory opes, the vision fades;
Wail not their fate; Oh Seas!
Though former scenes in Time's rough blast
Have drifted far away; And halls wherein our fathers ruled
Lie mouldering in decay, Though ne'er again, o'er heathery wild,
I'll see the storm-clouds fly; Or watch the golden glory creep
O'er lake, and mount and sky. Though never more, from castle tower
I'll scan the pebbly shore; Or hark the lovèd brother's lays
Chime with the plashing oar.
Have drifted far away; And halls wherein our fathers ruled
Lie mouldering in decay, Though ne'er again, o'er heathery wild,
I'll see the storm-clouds fly; Or watch the golden glory creep
O'er lake, and mount and sky. Though never more, from castle tower
I'll scan the pebbly shore; Or hark the lovèd brother's lays
Chime with the plashing oar.
Yet, where no floweret ever fades,
Nor weeping wakes the morn; Where every heart, with sorrow fraught,
To joy shall be re-born. Within the great orchestral band
Glad anthems we'll prolong; Nor sickness shall discord our praise,
Nor death disturb our song. Nor ocean wide shall e'er divide,
Nor years nor space will sever; In realm of health's immortal bloom
We'll live in love for ever.
Nor weeping wakes the morn; Where every heart, with sorrow fraught,
To joy shall be re-born. Within the great orchestral band
Glad anthems we'll prolong; Nor sickness shall discord our praise,
Nor death disturb our song. Nor ocean wide shall e'er divide,
Nor years nor space will sever; In realm of health's immortal bloom
We'll live in love for ever.
What though my hope-fraught argosy
Ne'er reached a halcyon strand; Though winds and waves have rudely tossed;
I know the Pilot's hand Will steer me safe 'yond shifting-sands,
Dense fogs and chilling rime, To anchorage within that haven,
Beyond the ridge of time. Where crowns of pearl, and harps of gold
In holy radiance beam; Where halos from the great White Throne
Dispel earth's fitful dream.
Ne'er reached a halcyon strand; Though winds and waves have rudely tossed;
I know the Pilot's hand Will steer me safe 'yond shifting-sands,
Dense fogs and chilling rime, To anchorage within that haven,
Beyond the ridge of time. Where crowns of pearl, and harps of gold
In holy radiance beam; Where halos from the great White Throne
Dispel earth's fitful dream.
MISCELLANEOUS.