And oh for Thee, by pitying grace Receive thy Spirit in the embrace Sighing I turned away; but ere Chanted in love that casts out fear 75 80 III. THOUGHTS SUGGESTED THE DAY FOLLOWING, ON THE BANKS OF NITH, NEAR THE POET'S RESIDEnce. Too frail to keep the lofty vow That must have followed when his brow He faultered, drifted to and fro, And passed away. 5 Well might such thoughts, dear Sister, throng Our minds when, lingering all too long, Over the grave of Burns we hung In social grief Indulged as if it were a wrong 10 But, leaving each unquiet theme Where gentlest judgments may misdeem, Of good and fair, Let us beside the limpid Stream Enough of sorrow, wreck, and blight; When Wisdom prospered in his sight Yes, freely let our hearts expand, When side by side, his Book in hand, Our pleasure varying at command Of each sweet Lay. How oft inspired must he have trod Or in his nobly-pensive mood, The Rustic sate. Proud thoughts that Image overawes, And ask of Nature from what cause She trained her Burns to win applause 15 20 25 30 35 40 Through busiest street and loneliest glen He rules 'mid winter snows, and when Deep in the general heart of men What need of fields in some far clime Where Heroes, Sages, Bards sublime, 45 50 Shall dwell together till old Time Sweet Mercy! to the gates of Heaven 55 This Minstrel lead, his sins forgiven; The rueful conflict, the heart riven With vain endeavour, And memory of Earth's bitter leaven, 60 But why to Him confine the prayer, With all that live ?— The best of what we do and are, I See note. 65 IV. TO THE SONS OF BURNS, AFTER VISITING THE GRAVE OF THEIR FATHER. "The Poet's grave is in a corner of the churchyard We looked at it with melancholy and painful reflections, repeating to each other his own verses 'Is there a man whose judgment clear,' etc." -Extract from the Journal of my Fellow-traveller. 'MID crowded obelisks and urns I sought the untimely grave of Burns; And more would grieve, but that it turns 5 Through twilight shades of good and ill If ye would give the better will Its lawful sway. Hath Nature strung your nerves to bear Like him can speed The social hour-of tenfold care 15 For honest men delight will take And of your Father's name will make Far from their noisy haunts retire, With service meet; There seek the genius of your Sire, Or where 'mid "lonely heights and hows," He paid to Nature tuneful vows; Or wiped his honourable brows Bedewed with toil, While reapers strove, or busy ploughs His judgment with benignant ray Let faith be given; Nor deem that "light which leads astray Is light from Heaven." Let no mean hope your souls enslave; Be independent, generous, brave; And such revere; But be admonished by his grave, 20 25 30 35 40 45 |