Volume V Part 6 (1/2)
TOGETHER.
Together, dearest, we have play'd, As girl and boy together; Through storm and calm, in sun and shade, In spring and wintry weather.
Oh! every pang that stinging came But made our love the dearer; If danger lower'd--'twas all the same, We only clung the nearer.
In riper years, when all the world Lay bathed in light before us, And life in rainbow hues unfurl'd Its glowing banner o'er us, Amid the beauty storms would rise And flowers collapsing wither, While open friends turned hidden foes-- Yet were we blest together.
But now the battle's fought and won, And care with life is flying, While, setting slowly like the sun, Ambition's fires are dying.
We gather hope with fading strength, And go, we know not whither, Contented if in death at last We sleep in peace together.
FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE.
With lofty song we love to cheer The hearts of daring men; Applauded thus, they gladly hear The trumpet's call again.
But now we sing of lowly deeds Devoted to the brave, Where she, who stems the wound that bleeds, A hero's life may save: And heroes saved exulting tell How well her voice they knew; How sorrow near it could not dwell, But spread its wings and flew.
Neglected, dying in despair, They lay till woman came To soothe them with her gentle care, And feed life's flickering flame.
When wounded sore, on fever's rack, Or cast away as slain, She called their fluttering spirits back And gave them strength again.
'Twas grief to miss the pa.s.sing face That suffering could dispel; But joy to turn and kiss the place On which her shadow fell.[4]
When words of wrath profaning rung, She moved with pitying grace; Her presence still'd the wildest tongue, And holy[5] made the place.
They knew that they were cared for then, Their eyes forgot their tears; In dreamy sleep they lost their pain, And thought of early years-- Of early years, when all was fair, Of faces sweet and pale.
They woke: the angel bending there Was--Florence Nightingale!
FOOTNOTES:
[4] She would speak to one and to another, and nod and smile to many more, but she could not do it to all; but we could kiss her shadow as it fell, and lay our heads on the pillow again, content.--_Soldier's Letter from the Crimea._
[5] ”Before she came there was cussin' and swearin', but after that it was as holy as a church.”--_Ibid._
JOSEPH MACGREGOR.
The writer of several good songs, which have been published with music, Joseph Macgregor, followed the profession of an accountant in Edinburgh.
Expert as a man of business, he negotiated the arrangement of the city affairs at the period of the munic.i.p.al bankruptcy. A zealous member of the Liberal party, he took a prominent interest in the Reform Bill movement, and afterwards afforded valuable a.s.sistance in the election of Francis Jeffrey as one of the representatives of the city in Parliament.
He latterly occupied Ramsay Lodge, the residence of the poet Allan Ramsay, where he died about the year 1845, at a somewhat advanced age.
The following songs from his pen are published by the kind permission of Messrs Robertson & Co., musicsellers, Edinburgh.