For wha can tell how Colin fared When he was far awa'? Sae true his heart, sae smooth his speech, His breath like caller air; His very foot has music in't As he comes up the stair, And will I see his face again? And will I hear him speak? I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought, In troth I'm like to greet! If Colin's weel, and weel content, For there's nae luck about the house, There's little pleasure in the house When our gudeman's awa'. ABRAHAM PERRY MILLER. Then, as he lightly draws the door aside, He hides behind it, while with baby pride, And face aglow, in struts the little one, Flushed and rejoiced to think what it has done, So, when men find, across life's rugged way, Strong doors of trouble barred from day to day, And strive with all their power of knees and hands, Unseen within the heavenly Father stands, And lifts each iron latch, while men pass through, Flushed and rejoiced to think what they can do! Turn to the Helper, unto whom thou art More near and dear than to thy mother's heart, Who is more near to thee than is the blood That warms thy bosom with its purple flood Who by a word can change the mental state And make a burden light, however great! O loving Power! that, dwelling deep within, Consoles our spirits in their woe and sin, song, When bitter memory, o'er and o'er again, Revolved the wrongs endured from fellow-men; And showed how hopes decayed and bore no fruit, And He who placed us here was deaf and mute! If then we turned on God in angry wise, And scorned his dealings with reproachful eyes Questioned his goodness, and in foolish wrath, Called hope a lie and ridiculed our faith, Did we not find, in such an evil hour, That far within us dwelt this loving Power? No wrathful God within, to smite us down, [frown; Or turn his face away with angry But in the bitter heart, a smile began, Grew, all at once, within, and upward ran, Broke out upon the face—and, for awhile, Despite all bitterness, we had to smile! Because God's spirit that within us lay, [away! Simply rose up, and smiled our wrath When every thing that is sincerely Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, And perfectly divine, With truth, and peace, and love, shall | And love to live in dimple sleek, ever shine About the supreme throne Of him, to whose happy-making sight alone When once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb, Then, all this earthy grossness quit, Attired with stars, we shall forever sit, Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, O Time. L'ALLEGRO. HENCE, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn, Sport that wrinkled Care derides, The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty; While the cock with lively din 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, Scatters the rear of darkness thin, and sights unholy! Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night raven sings; And to the stack, or the barn-door. Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, There under ebon shades and low- From the side of some hoar hill, browed rocks, As ragged as thy locks, Through the high wood echoing shrill: In dark Cimmerian desert ever Some time walking, not unseen, By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green, While the ploughman near at hand Whilst the landskip round it meas Russet lawns and fallows gray, And then in haste her bower, she leaves, With Thestylis to bind the sheaves; On a sunshine holiday, Till the livelong daylight fail; she And he by friar's lanthorn led; Where throngs of knights and barons bold In weeds of peace high triumphs hold, With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence, and judge the prize There let Hymen oft appear Warble his native wood-notes wild. And ever against eating cares Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the melting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out, With wanton heed, and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie From golden slumber on a bed ear Of Pluto, to have quite set free These delights if thou canst give, Mirth, with thee I mean to live. IL PENSEROSO. HENCE, vain deluding joys, The brood of folly, without father bred! How little you bestead, Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys! Dwell in some idle brain, And fancies fond with gaudy shapes And add to these retired Leisure, That in trim gardens takes his pleas possess, As the gay motes that people the But first and chiefest with thee bring, To set her beauty's praise above The sea-nymphs, and their powers offended: Yet thou art higher far descended; His daughter she (in Saturn's reign Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes: Spare Fast, that oft with Gods doth diet, And hears the Muses in a ring Him that yon soars on golden wing, Gently o'er the accustomed oak; Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, Most musical, most melancholy! Thee, chantress, oft the woods among, I woo to hear thy even-song; And oft, as if her head she bowed, Oft on a plat of rising ground Or if the air will not permit, Some still, removèd place will fit, Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom; Or let my lamp at midnight hour Be seen on some high lonely tower, Where I may oft outwatch the Bear, With thrice-great Hermes, or unsphere The spirit of Plato, to unfold |