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I thocht I'd serve wi' you, sirs, yince, But I've thocht better of it since; The maitter I will nowise mince, But tell ye true: I'll service wi' some ither prince, An' no wi' you.
I've no been very deep, ye'll think, Cam' delicately to the brink An' when the water gart me shrink Straucht took the rue, An' didna stoop my fill to drink- I own it true.
I kent on cape and isle, a light Burnt fair an' clearly ilka night; But at the service I took fright, As sune's I saw, An' being still a neophite Gaed straucht awa'.
Anither course I now begin, The weeg I'll cairry for my sin, The court my voice shall echo in, An'-wha can tell?- Some ither day I may be yin O' you mysel'.
THE RELIC TAKEN, WHAT AVAILS THE SHRINE?
THE relic taken, what avails the shrine?
The locket, pictureless? O heart of mine, Art thou not worse than that, Still warm, a vacant nest where love once sat?
Her image nestled closer at my heart Than cherished memories, healed every smart And warmed it more than wine Or the full summer sun in noon-day s.h.i.+ne.
This was the little weather gleam that lit The cloudy promontories-the real charm was That gilded hills and woods And walked beside me thro' the solitudes.
The sun is set. My heart is widowed now Of that companion-thought. Alone I plough The seas of life, and trace A separate furrow far from her and grace.
ABOUT THE SHELTERED GARDEN GROUND
ABOUT the sheltered garden ground The trees stand strangely still.
The vale ne'er seemed so deep before, Nor yet so high the hill.
An awful sense of quietness, A fulness of repose, Breathes from the dewy garden-lawns, The silent garden rows.
As the hoof-beats of a troop of horse Heard far across a plain, A nearer knowledge of great thoughts Thrills vaguely through my brain.
I lean my head upon my arm, My heart's too full to think; Like the roar of seas, upon my heart Doth the morning stillness sink.
AFTER READING "ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA"
AS when the hunt by holt and field Drives on with horn and strife, Hunger of hopeless things pursues Our spirits throughout life.
The sea's roar fills us aching full Of objectless desire- The sea's roar, and the white moon-s.h.i.+ne, And the reddening of the fire.
Who talks to me of reason now?
It would be more delight To have died in Cleopatra's arms Than be alive to-night.
I KNOW NOT HOW, BUT AS I COUNT
I KNOW not how, but as I count The beads of former years, Old laughter catches in my throat With the very feel of tears.
SPRING SONG
THE air was full of sun and birds, The fresh air sparkled clearly.
Remembrance wakened in my heart And I knew I loved her dearly.
The fallows and the leafless trees And all my spirit tingled.
My earliest thought of love, and Spring's First puff of perfume mingled.
In my still heart the thoughts awoke, Came lone by lone together- Say, birds and Sun and Spring, is Love A mere affair of weather?
THE SUMMER SUN SHONE ROUND ME
THE summer sun shone round me, The folded valley lay In a stream of sun and odour, That sultry summer day.
The tall trees stood in the sunlight As still as still could be, But the deep gra.s.s sighed and rustled And bowed and beckoned me.
The deep gra.s.s moved and whispered And bowed and brushed my face.
It whispered in the suns.h.i.+ne: "The winter comes apace."
YOU LOOKED SO TEMPTING IN THE PEW
YOU looked so tempting in the pew, You looked so sly and calm- My trembling fingers played with yours As both looked out the Psalm.
Your heart beat hard against my arm, My foot to yours was set, Your loosened ringlet burned my cheek Whenever they two met.
O little, little we hearkened, dear, And little, little cared, Although the parson sermonised, The congregation stared.
