There ever bask in uncreated rays No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear, While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere. Compared with this, how poor religion's pride, May hear, well pleased, the language of the soul; And in his book of life the inmates poor enroll. Then homeward all take off their several way; For them and for their little ones provide; From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs, The cottage leaves the palace far behind; O Scotia! my dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent! Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet con tent! And, O, may Heaven their simple lives prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vile! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved isle. O Thou, who poured the patriotic tide That streamed through Wallace's undaunted Who dared to nobly stem tyrannic pride, But still the patriot, and the patriot bard, He that loves a rosie cheek, Or from star-like eyes doth seek As old Time makes these decay, But a smooth and steadfast mind, LAKE, WITH LAWNY BANKS THAT SLOPE. "LAKE, with lawny banks that slope To the water's edge, Softly rustles the wind thro' Thy long grass and sedge. "Thou hadst been a gem of earth Couched amid these hills, But some evil water-sprite "Whence thy hidden life is drawn. Why thus fretteth he, Who should be thy good genie, Lightly by a ruffling wind Were the waters pressed, Be it genie, be it fate, I know not, but know That the waves from yonder stream Earth may smile like Eden round, Gives not back their hue. "Stream, that feed'st the lake, there beams On thee a living sun ; Rapid, dark, thou rushest by; Wouldst thou doom outrun ?" Hoarsely thus the hurrying wave "Suns may beam, or skies may lower, "I am fed by those that draw From depths hid from me Their mysterious energies, And I am not free. "Peaceful mission is not mine; Springs that give me life Burst from this strange earth, as if Born with inward strife." “Turbid lake, thou must flow on, There is no redress, And the river fed by thee Know unworthiness." Ignorant, I grieved to see All must be as all had been, I came again, ‚— a river, Flowed from out the troubled lake, Like pure love from fear. Heaven and earth were showed therein, The dark source defiled To the ocean's large embrace Sent a noble child. DEEP, DEEP WITHIN THE OCEAN'S BREAST. DEEP, deep within the ocean's breast Round which light, water-swayèd nymphs The centre of this little isle Was fixed a stony tree; In rigid pride the coral stone "But now no chance or change can come To me; mature in form, I take my place with things of fate; I cool no more nor warm. |