"Hae a' the weans been gude?" he asks
As he pits off his shoon,
"The bairnies, John, are in their beds,
An' lang since cuddle doon."
An' just afore we bed oursel's,
We look at oor wee lambs;
Tam has his airm roun' wee Rab's neck,
An' Rab his airm roun' Tam's.
I lift wee Jamie up the bed,
An' as I straik each croon
I whisper, till my heart fills up,
"Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon."
The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht.
Wi' mirth that's dear to me;
But sune the big warl's cark an' care
Will quaten doon their glee.
Yet come what will to ilka ane
May He who sits aboon,
Aye whisper, though their pows be bauld,
"Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon."
_Alexander Anderson._
* * * * *
PER PACEM AD LUCEM.
I do not ask, O Lord! that life may be
A pleasant road;
I do not ask that Thou wouldst take from me
Aught of its load:
I do not ask that flowers should always spring
Beneath my feet;
I know too well the poison and the sting
Of things too sweet.
Pages:
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464