Is tempered kindly or with blessing rich;
And all the quaint cloud-messengers that come
Voyaging the blue glory's summer sea
In barks of beauty, built o'er the powdery pearl,
Soft, shining, sumptuous, blown by languid breath,
Touch tenderly, or drop with ripeness down.
Spring builds her leafy nest for birds and flowers,
And folds it round luxuriant as the vine
Whose grapes are ripe with wine of merry cheer,
The Summer burns her richest incense there,
Swung from the censers of her thousand flowers;
Brown Autumn comes o'er seas of glorious gold;
And there old Winter keeps some greenth of heart,
When on his head the snows of age are white.
Mid glimpsing greenery at the hill-foot stands
The castle with its tiny town of towers:
A smiling martyr to the climbing strength
Of ivy that will crown the old bald head,
And roses that will mask him merry and young,
Like an old man with children round his knees.
With cups of color reeling roses rise
On walls and bushes, red and yellow and white;
A dance and dazzle of roses range all round.
The path runs down and peeps out in the lane
That loiters on by fields of wheat and bean,
Till the white-gleaming road winds city-ward.
Afar, in floods of sunshine blinding white,
The city lieth in its quiet pride,
With castled crown, looking on towns and shires,
And hills from which cloud-highlands climb the heavens:
A happy thing in glory smiles the Firth;
Its flowing azure winding like an arm
Around the warm waist of the yielding land.
RAIGCROOK roses! ruby, golden,
Glowing gorgeous; faint with passion;
To the sweet flower-soul unfolden:
Wreathe me in the old Greek fashion.
Queen of sweetness, crowned with splendor,
Every rich round bud uncloses;
Yet so meek and womanly tender
Are you royal Craigcrook Roses,
Warm and winy Craigerook Roses.
Leaning with some unknown yearning,
You would make a lover sin, you
Pretty wooers, archly turning
As you climb to make us win you.
Ripe perfection of fair fulness
In your gracious bloom reposes;
And an emerald bower for coolness
Summer builds my Craigerook Roses,
Amorous-dreaming Craigerook Roses.
When the year is old and hoary,
And the day is dark with dolors,
Still you come, my guests of glory,
In voluptuous dance of colors.
And, though Earth like Age is toiling
In the snowdrifts, perfumed posies
Kiss me, crown my spirit smiling
Down a dream of Craigcrook Roses,
Dear, delicious Craigcrook Roses.
Fairest 'mong Light's daughters seven,
With your dainty dreamy graces,
You might light with loving leaven
Smiles of spring in wintriest faces.
At the solemn shut of daylight
When the fair life-vision closes,
May my spirit float away light
On a cloud of Craigcrook Roses,
Cooled and crowned with Craigcrook Roses!
Craigieburn.
CRAIGIEBURN WOOD.
WEET fa's the eve on Craigieburn,
And blithe awakes the morrow;
But a' the pride o' spring's return
Can yield me nocht but sorrow.
I see the flowers and spreading trees,
I hear the wild birds singing;
But what a weary wight can please,
And care his bosom wringing?
Fain, fain would I my griefs impart,
Yet darena for your anger;
But secret love will break my heart
If I conceal it langer.
If thou refuse to pity me,
If thou shalt love anither,
When yon green leaves fade frae the tree,
Around my grave they'll wither.
Craigie Hill.
THE LASS O' CRAIGIE HILL.
WAS at the hour of gloamin' fa',
The sun had rowed him to his rest,
Ae bonnie star, the star o' love,
Sat smiling in the dappled west,
The wind had left the sea's lone breast,
And 'mang the birk-tree leaves lay still,
When, sweeter than the wild thyme's breath,
I met the lass o' Craigie Hill.
A fragrant odor scarcely fanned
The water-lily's gentle brow,
Wï' laden wing it stole and leant
Upon the lamb amang the dew;
Nor woke the throstle as he slept,
And dreamed o' many a joyous trill,
Amang the lovely beechen groves
That shade the lass o' Craigie Hill.
The beauty of Elora's fane
Kissed by the ruby lips o' morn,
And haloed o'er wi' pearly gems,
The purest e'er from ocean borne,
May feast the soul o' pilgrim worn,
And make his raptured bosom thrill, -
A fairer sight now blessed my eyes,
The bonnie lass o' Craigie Hill.
She walked in gladness like the morn
Alang the dewy velvet green,
The brow o' night grew fair and bright,
Enamored wi' her bonnie een;
And on her peerless cheeks were seen
The hues that opening rosebuds fill,
When summer skies, in rainbow dyes,
Bend o'er the lass o' Craigie Hill.
That balmy eve, that lassie fair,
The looks o' love she gave to me,
Still glow within my bosom's core,
As diamonds in the deep, deep sea.
And till I lie on death's dark lea,
By elm-tree shade or mountain rill,
The pole star o' my heart shall be
The bonnie lass o' Craigie Hill.
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