Volume Ii Part 3 (1/2)

My son! my son! may kinder stars Upon thy fortune s.h.i.+ne; And may those pleasures gild thy reign, That ne'er wad blink on mine!

G.o.d keep thee frae thy mother's faes, Or turn their hearts to thee: And, where thou meet'st thy mother's friend, Remember him for me!

Oh! soon, to me, may summer suns Nae mair light up the morn!

Nae mair, to me, the autumn winds Wave o'er the yellow corn!

And in the narrow house o' death Let winter round me rave; And the next flow'rs that deck the spring Bloom on my peaceful grave!

ROBERT BURNS.

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BY COOL SILOAM'S SHADY RILL.

By cool Siloam's shady rill How sweet the lily grows!

How sweet the breath beneath the hill Of Sharon's dewy rose!

Lo, such the child whose early feet The paths of peace have trod; Whose secret heart, with influence sweet, Is upward drawn to G.o.d.

By cool Siloam's shady rill The lily must decay; The rose that blooms beneath the hill Must shortly fade away.

REGINALD HEBER.

THE SELKIRK GRACE.

Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it; But we hae meat and we can eat, And sae the Lord be thankit.

ROBERT BURNS.

THE LOVE OF G.o.d.

All things that are on earth shall wholly pa.s.s away, Except the love of G.o.d, which shall live and last for aye.

The forms of men shall be as they had never been; The blasted groves shall lose their fresh and tender green; The birds of the thicket shall end their pleasant song, And the nightingale shall cease to chant the evening long.

The kine of the pasture shall feel the dart that kills, And all the fair white flocks shall perish from the hills.

The goat and antlered stag, the wolf and the fox, The wild boar of the wood, and the chamois of the rocks, And the strong and fearless bear, in the trodden dust shall lie; And the dolphin of the sea, and the mighty whale, shall die.

And realms shall be dissolved, and empires be no more, And they shall bow to death, who ruled from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e; And the great globe itself, so the holy writings tell, With the rolling firmament, where the starry armies dwell, Shall melt with fervent heat--they shall all pa.s.s away, Except the love of G.o.d, which shall live and last for aye.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

_From the Provencal of Bernard Rascas._

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