Then peace doth descend on my mind, my mind,
Then peace doth descend on my mind;
And I gain greater scope to my spirit and hope,
For both then become more refined.
Oh! whatever my fate chance to be, to be,
My spirit shall never repine,
If a stroll on the hill, if a glimpse of the sea,
If the hum of the forest be mine.
THE WELLS O' WEARY.
Down in the valley lone,
Far in the wild wood,
Bubble forth springs, each one
Weeping like childhood;
Bright on their rushy banks,
Like joys among sadness,
Little flowers bloom in ranks—
Glimpses of gladness.
Sweet 'tis to wander forth,
Like pilgrims at even;
Lifting our souls from earth
To fix them on Heaven;
Then in our transport deep,
This world forsaking:
Sleeping as angels sleep,
Mortals awaking!
I 'M NAEBODY NOO.
I 'm naebody noo; though in days that are gane,
When I 'd hooses, and lands, and gear o' my ain,
Ther war' mony to flatter, and mony to praise—
And wha but mysel' was sae prood in those days!
Ah! then roun' my table wad visitors thrang,
Wha laugh'd at my joke, and applauded my sang,
Though the tane had nae point, and the tither nae glee;
But, of coorse, they war' grand when comin' frae me!