Within the city Jesus walks the street,
Or bides with friends, or in the temple stands,
But shamed am I the Nazarene to meet,
Seeing I bring to Him but empty hands.
The sun had long since sunk behind the hills—
The purple glory and the gleams of light
Had faded from the sky, the dusk that stills
A busy world was deep’ning into night.
“Son, look on me,” the sweetness of the tone
Made Ammiel’s heart begin to thrill and glow,
“Full well,” he said, “I know there is but One
With simple words like these could move me so.”
“Son, look on me,” and lifting up his eyes
He looked on Jesu’s face, and knew ’twas He,
Knelt down and kissed His feet, and would not rise
Because of love and deep humility.
Up in the deep blue of the skies above
Were kindled all the watchfires of the night
The voice of Jesus, deep and filled with love,
Said, “Come, bide with me till the morning’s light.
At dawn my beggar asked not alms in vain,
Since dawn, have I been debtor unto thee,
All day thy gifts within my heart have lain,
Fruit, oil, and wine, come through my poor to me.”
Robin
THERE’S not a leaf on the vine where you swing
And the wind is chill and the sky is grey,
But all undaunted you flutter and sing,
“Ho, the first of May! Ho, the first of May!”
There’s never a hint of yesterday’s frost,
Of the hunger and cold and waiting long,
Never a plaint over what you have lost
Thrown into the notes of your happy song;
The gladness is pressed in your bosom red,
And the gloss is laid on your little head.
I thank you for singing, robin to-day,
For flaunting before me, jolly and bold,
Chirping, “Ho! Ho! do you know it is May,
Or are you so dull you have to be told?”
Margot
NOW Margot, dinna flout me,
O, dinna be unkind!
Mayhap to do without me,
A hardship you would find.
Ye haud yer head too high, lass,
Ye haud yer head too high,
What if I wad pass by, lass,
Instead o’ lingerin’ nigh?
Ye canna quite forget, dear,
The sunny days o’ yore,
They haud our twa lives yet, dear,—
The days that are no more.