Both right and wrong, They struggle long, Till some good day, when they are old, They lose themselves, and find each other; Richard Henry Stoddard [1825-1903] THE WIFE TO HER HUSBAND LINGER not long. Home is not home without thee: O, let its memory, like a chain about thee, Gently compel and hasten thy return! Linger not long. Though crowds should woo thy staying, Bethink thee, can the mirth of thy friends, though dear, Compensate for the grief thy long delaying Costs the fond heart that sighs to have thee here? Linger not long. How shall I watch thy coming, How shall I watch for thee, when fears grow stronger, Yet I shall grieve not, though the eye that seeth me My cup of happiness is all too full. Haste, haste thee home unto thy mountain dwelling, Haste, as a skiff, through tempests wide and swelling, Unknown The Sailor's Wife 1217 A WIFE'S SONG O WELL I love the Spring, When the sweet, sweet hawthorn blows; And well I love the Summer, And the coming of the rose; But dearer are the changing leaf, November may be dreary, For the roaring wind and the blessed time That brings him home again. William Cox Bennett [1820-1895] THE SAILOR'S WIFE AND are ye sure the news is true? Is this a time to talk o' wark? Ye jauds, fling by your wheel! Is this a time to spin a thread, When Colin's at the door? Rax down my cloak-I'll to the quay, And see him come ashore. For there's nae luck aboot the house, There's nae luck ava', There's little pleasure in the house, And gi'e to me my bigonet, My bishop's satin gown; That Colin's in the town. My Turkey slippers maun gae on, Rise, lass, and mak' a clean fireside, Gi'e little Kate her button gown, And mak' their shoon as black as slaes, It's a' to please my own gudeman, There's twa hens upon the bauk, And spread the table neat and clean, For wha can tell how Colin fared, When he was far awa'? Sae true his heart, sae smooth his speech, His breath like caller air; If Colin's weel, and weel content, I ha'e nae mair to crave; Jerry an' Me For there's nae luck aboot the house, There's nae luck ava'; There's little pleasure in the house When our gudeman's awa'. 1219 William Julius Mickle [1735-1788] JERRY AN' ME No matter how the chances are, My Jerry there has left the sea They told him-Lor', men take no care Take any man on sea or land If he is young 'twill do, but then, A month will be a year to him. He sits by me, but most he walks I cannot bring him back again, While I can cast a stitch or fill A needleful o' thread. God pity me, I'd most forgot Who hear the breakin' bar an' think O' Jerry home an’-me. Hiram Rich [ ? ] "DON'T BE SORROWFUL, DARLING" O DON'T be sorrowful, darling! Taking the year together, my dear, 'Tis rainy weather, my darling; We are old folks now, my darling, But taking the year all round, my dear, We have had our May, my darling, And the time of the year is coming, my dear, For the silent night and the snow. But God is God, my darling, Of the night as well as the day; And we feel and know that we can go Wherever He leads the way. A God of the night, my darling, Of the night of death so grim; The gate that leads out of life, good wife, Is the gate that leads to Him. Rembrandt Peale [1778-1860] |