The Devil gripped the woman's heart, With gall he staunched its bleeding; Far away, beyond the day,

The Lord heard interceding.

"Lord God, One in Three!
Sure Thy anger closes;
Yesterday I died, and see
The Weary-winged over me
Bitterly streweth Roses."

The voice cried out, "Rejoice! rejoice There shall be sleep for evil!"

And all the sweetness of God's voice

Passed strangely through the Devil.

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS AND BALLADS.

1878-83.

I.

THE LIGHTS OF LEITH.

I.

"THE lights o' Leith! the lights o' Leith!"

The skipper cried aloud—

While the wintry gale with snow and hail
Blew snell thro' sail and shroud.

"The lights o' Leith! the lights o' Leith!"
As he paced the deck cried he-
"How merrily bright they burn this night
Thro' the reek o' the stormy sea!"

As the ship ran in thro' the surging spray
Afire seemed all the town;

They saw the glare from far away,
And, safely steer'd to the land-lock'd bay,
They cast their anchor down.

"'Tis sure a feast in the town o' Leith"
(To his mate the skipper spoke),
"And yonder shadows that come and go,
Across the quay where the bonfires glow,
Are the merry-making folk.

"In right good time we are home once more
From the wild seas and rough weather-
Come, launch a boat, and we'll run ashore,
And see the sport together."

But the mate replied, while he shoreward gazed
With sad and gentle eyes,

While the lights of Leith beyond him blazed
And he heard the landward cries:

"'Tis twenty lang year since I first left here,
In the time o' frost and snaw-

I was only a lad, and my heart was mad
To be up, and free, and awa'!

"My mither she prayed me no' to gang,
For she had nae bairn but me-

My father was droon'd, and sleeping amang
The weeds o' the northern sea.

"I stole awa' in the mirk o' night
And left my mither asleep,
And ere she waken'd, at morning light,
I was oot on the roaring deep.

"Aye, twenty lang year hae past sin' syne,
And my heart has aft been sair

To think o' that puir auld mither o' mine,
Alane, in a warld o' care.

"When back I cam' frae the salt sea faem
I was a bearded man,

Ae simmer I dwelt in the hoose at hame,
Then awa' to the sea I ran.

"And twice sin' syne hae I left the sea
To seek the hameward track,

And aye my mither had had for me-
Tho' ne'er a gift had my hands to gie—
A tender welcome back.

"Then, cast awa' in a soothern land,
And taen to slaverie,

I lang'd for the touch o' a mither's hand,
And the glint o' a mither's e'e.

"But noo that my wandering days are done, I hae dree'd a penance sad,

I am coming hame, like the Prodigal Son,
But wi' siller to mak' her glad!

"I hae gowden rings for my mither's hand,
Bonnie and braw past dream,

And, fit for a leddy o' the land,
A shawl o' the Indian seam.

"And I lang, and lang, to seek ance mair
The cot by the side o' the sea,
And to find my gray old mither there,
Waiting and watching for me;

"To dress her oot like a leddy grand,
While the tears o' gladness drap,
To put the rings on her wrinkled hand,
The siller intil her lap!

"And to say 'O mither, I'm hame, I'm hame!

Forgie me, O forgie!

And never mair shall ye ken a care
Until the day you dee.""

O bright and red shone the lights of Leith
In the snowy winter-tide-

Down the cheeks of the man the salt tears ran,
As he stood by the skipper's side.

"But noo I look on the lights o' hame

My heart sinks sick and cauld—

Lest I come owre late for her love or blame, For oh! my mither was auld!

"For her een were dim when I sail'd awa',
And snaw was on her heid,
And I fear I fear-after mony a year,
To find my mither-deid!

"Sae I daurna enter the toon o' Leith,
Where the merry yule-fires flame,
Lest I hear the tidings o' dule and death,
Ere I enter the door o' hame.

"But ye'll let them row me to yonner shore Beyond the lights o' the quay,

And I'll climb the brae to the cottage door, A hunnerd yards frae the sea.

"If I see a light thro' the mirk o' night, I'll ken my mither is there;

I'll keek, maybe, through the pane, and see Her face in its snawy hair!

"The face sae dear that for mony a year
I hae prayed to see again,-
O a mither's face has a holy grace
'Bune a' the faces o' men!

"Then I'll enter in wi' silent feet, And saftly cry her name

And I'll see the dim auld een grow sweet Wi' a heavenly welcome hame!