ITS AIN DRAP O' DEW. NONFIDE ye aye in Providence, For Providence is kind, An' bear ye a' life's changes Wi' a calm an' tranquil mind; Though pressed and hemmed on every side, Keps its ain drap o' dew. Gin reft frae frinds, or crossed in love, Keps its ain drap o' dew. In lang, lang days of simmer, To nature, parched and dry, The genial night, wi' balmy breath, Keps its ain drap o' dew. Sae lest 'mid fortune's sunshine We should feel ower proud an' hie, An' in our pride forget to wipe The tear frae poortith's e'e, Some wee dark clouds of sorrow come, But ilka blade o' grass JAMES BALLANTINE. All that thou sendest me In mercy given; Angels to beckon me Then with my waking thoughts Or if, on joyful wing, Sun, moon and stars forgot, Still all my song shall be, Nearer to thee! And that one talent, which is death to hide, Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve there with my Maker, and present My true account, lest He, returning, chide ; "Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?" I fondly ask; but Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need Either man's work, or his own gifts; who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best; his state Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait." JOHN MILTON. ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, Or your more dreaded hell to state, OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS. Damnation of expenses! Ye high, exalted, virtuous dames, Tied up in godly laces, A dear loved lad, convenience snug, Then gently scan your brother Man, Though they may gang a kennie wrang, To step aside is human; One point must still be greatly dark: The moving Why they do it; And just as lamely can ye mark How far perhaps they rue it. Who made the heart, 'tis He alone He knows each chord, its various tone, Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted. ROBERT BURNS THE BURIAL OF MOSES. BY Nebo's lonely mountain, On this side Jordan's wave, For the angels of God upturned the sod, That was the grandest funeral Comes when the night is done, Noiselessly as the spring-time Open their thousand leaves; So, without sound of music, Or voice of them that wept, On gray Beth-peor's height, Looked on the wondrous sight; Perchance some lion, stalking, Still shuns the hallowed spot, For beast and bird have seen and heard But when the warrior dieth, His comrades in the war, With arms reversed and muffled drums, They tell his battles won, And after him lead his masterless steed, Amid the noblest of the land, They lay the sage to rest, And give the bard an honored place, While the sweet choir sings, and the organ rings This was the bravest warrior This the most gifted poet That ever breathed a word; On the deathless page, truths half so sage And had he not high honor? To lie in state while angels wait, The dark rock-pines, like tossing plumes, And God's own hand, in that lonely land, In that deep grave without a name, Sha 1 break again-most wondrous thought- And stand, with glory wrapped around, And speak of the strife that won our life O lonely tomb in Moab's land! Ways that we cannot tell; He hides them deep, like secret sleep CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER, W SELF-KNOWLEDGE. (From "The Imitation of Christ.") HO hath a harder conflict to endure than he who labors to subdue himself? But in this we must be continually engaged, if we would be more strengthened in the INNER MAN, and make real progress toward perfection. Indeed, the highest perfection we can attain to in the present state is alloyed with much imperfection; and our best knowledge is obscured by shades of ignorance. "We see through a glass darkly.” An humble knowledge of thyself, therefore, is a more certain way of leading thee to God, than the most profound investigations of science. Science, however, or a proper knowledge of the things belonging to the present life, is so far from being blamable in itself, that it is good, and ordained of God; but purity of conscience, and holiness of life, must ever be preferred before it. And because men are more solicitous to learn much than to live well, they fall into error, and receive little or no benefit from their studies. Oh, that the same diligence were exerted to eradicate vice, and implant virtue, as are applied to the discussion of unprofitable questions, and the "vain strife of words!" So much daring wickedness would not be found among the common ranks of men, nor so much licentiousness disgrace those who live in monasteries. Assuredly, in the approaching day of judgment, it will not be inquired of us what we have read, but what we have done; not how eloquently we have spoken, but how holily we have lived. THOMAS A KEMPIS. |