Heart Songs. Jean Blewett

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СКАЧАТЬ Janet was there like the hand of fate.

       She was so cross-eyed, that none could say

       Whether or not she looked his way.

       But one day it chanced that, going to mill,

       He overtook Kate under the hill.

       Would she mount behind, and ride along?

       Perhaps she would, there was nothing wrong—

       So he helped her up with trembling arm,

       O, surely the day is close and warm!

       Whoa mare! go steady! no need for haste

       When two soft arms are about his waist;

       Neil, shame on him, pressed her finger-tips,

       Then turned he about and pressed her lips!

      On the road the hawthorn blossom white

       Scattered itself just in sheer delight,

       A bird was singing a tender rhyme

       Of meadow, mate, and the nesting-time,

       The hill looked beautiful in the glow

       That heaven flung on the world below.

       Ah me! if that ride could last a week,

       Her gold hair blowing against his cheek,

       As they rode to mill, say the world-wise,

       Nay, rode in the lane of paradise.

       Travel that way, though your hair grow white,

       You never forget the journey quite!

      Next day, Neil went to the old home place

       And met his stern father face to face;

       Boldly enough he unfolded the tale,

       Though maybe his cheek was sometimes pale,

       He would marry Kate, and her alone,

       He had tried to care for the other one,

       But she squinted so, her hair was red,

       And freckles over her face were spread;

       In all the world there was none for him

       But his Kate. Then laughed that old man grim,

       “Your mither, lad, was a stubborn jade,

       A stubborn an’ handsome dark-eyed maid,

       An’ in a’ our battles she’s always won,

       An’ Neil, you are just your mither’s son;

       But I haven’a lived through a’ my days

       And just learnt nothing, heaven be praised!

       Hark now, a gaed to your uncle’s hame

       An’ bargained wi’ him afore ye came,

       A’ saw yer Kate an’ like’t her weel,

       A luik o’ your mither I could spell

       In her bonny face, a woman to win

       By ony means, that is short o’ sin,

       Sae I tellit him to let Kate be

       The lassie puir an’ o’ low degree,

       An’ sort gie ye to understand

       That Janet was owner o’ the land.

       Why need I gie mesel’ sic a task? Ye stiff-neck fellow, ye needna ask, Gin ye was coaxed, ye wouldna move— Ye’d be too stubborn tae fa’ in love; Like a’ the Campbells ye’ll hae yer way, Yer mither’s hae’d hers mony a day.

      ’Tis glad ye should be this day—my word!

       Tak’ time right now to thank the Lord,

       Yer father’s wisdom gat ye a bride

       An’ plenty o’ worldly gear besides.”

      Ah, thankful enough was Neil that day,

       The joy leaped up in his eyes of gray,

       But not for his father’s wisdom great,

       Though maybe it had gotten him Kate—

       Not for the land, and not for the gold—

       Not for the flocks that slept in the fold,

       “Thank heaven,” he said, with a glow and thrill,

       “Thank heaven for the day I rode to mill.”

At Joppa

       Table of Contents

      PERCHANCE the day was fair as this—

       The eastern world is full of glow,

       With warmer sun, and bluer sky,

       And richer bloom than we can show—

       At Joppa quaint, beside the sea,

       When Simon Peter went to pray.

      I wonder if he did not pause

       Awhile to gaze on God’s great book,

       To read on earth, and sea, and sky,

       The smile divine, the tender look;

       For when the hour of vision’s given,

       The two worlds touch—our earth and heaven.

      God teaches with a tenderness

       That we who follow him should learn,

       Hides not His glory when ’twill bless

       Eyes that look up, and souls that yearn.

       He sent the vision fair to see,

       And spoke to Peter on that day.

      Sleeping, the voice fell on his ears,

       I hear bold Peter say “Divine,

       ’Twill live and sound forever-more

       In this poor wayward heart of mine—

       ‘What God has cleansed,’ so broad, so free,

       My narrow creed СКАЧАТЬ