Come! I'll pile some bits o' stoan Round thi dwellin' ; They may cheer thee when I've goan,Theer 's no tellin'; An' when Spring's mild day draws near I'll release thee, niver fear! An' if then thi pretty face Greets me smilin', I may come an' sit by th' place, Glad to think I'd paar to be Alexander Anderson CUDDLE DOON THE bairnies cuddle doon at nicht Wee Jamie wi' the curly heid He aye sleeps next the wa' I rin an' fetch them pieces, drinks, But, ere five minutes gang, wee Rab Cries out, frae 'neath the claes, "Mither, mak' Tam gie ower at ance, He's kittlin' wi' his taes." The mischief's in that Tam for tricks, He'd bother half the toon; But aye I hap them up and cry, "Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon." At length they hear their faither's fit, While Tam pretends to snore. "Hae a' the weans been gude?" he asks, As he pits aff his shoon; "The bairnies, John, are in their beds, An' lang since cuddled doon." An' just afore we bed oorsels, We look at our wee lambs; Tam has his airm roun' wee Rab's neck, And Rab his airm round Tam's. The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht Yet, come what will to ilka ane, Aye whisper, though their pows be bald, "Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon." Proclaims its stormy parents; and we hear The faint far murmur of the breaking flood. We hear the sea. The sea? It is the blood In our own veins, impetuous and near, And with our feelings' every shifting mood. crave A world unreal as the shell-heard sea. A FLIGHT FROM GLORY - ONCE, from the parapet of gems and glow, An Angel said, "O God, the heart grows cold On these eternal battlements of gold, Where all is pure, but cold as virgin snow. |