 | The Poetical Works of Robert Anderson |  |
224
THE LOVER'S TRIAL.
“Who's that below my window calls,
And breaks the silence of the night?
Who wak'd me from my slumbers sweet,
When dreaming of my soul's delight?
Was it the night-breeze in the wood?
Was it the streams that rapid flow?
It seem'd the moan of shiv'ring want;
It seem'd the hollow voice of woe!”
And breaks the silence of the night?
Who wak'd me from my slumbers sweet,
When dreaming of my soul's delight?
Was it the night-breeze in the wood?
Was it the streams that rapid flow?
It seem'd the moan of shiv'ring want;
It seem'd the hollow voice of woe!”
“'Twas not the night-breeze in the wood:
'Twas not the streams that rapid flow:
It was the moan of shiv'ring want—
It was the hollow voice of woe:
A houseless, helpless, friendless man,
Implores your goodness with a sigh:
Throw me a crust, for hunger craves,
And with the cattle let me lie!”
'Twas not the streams that rapid flow:
It was the moan of shiv'ring want—
It was the hollow voice of woe:
A houseless, helpless, friendless man,
Implores your goodness with a sigh:
Throw me a crust, for hunger craves,
And with the cattle let me lie!”
“If pity e'er warm'd female breast,
I feel the glow of pity here:
Come, stranger, rest thy wearied limbs,
And welcome share our humble cheer!
The storm is up, the air is keen,
The hour is late, the first cock crows;
A blazing fire will give new life,
And help to court thee to repose.”
I feel the glow of pity here:
Come, stranger, rest thy wearied limbs,
And welcome share our humble cheer!
225
The hour is late, the first cock crows;
A blazing fire will give new life,
And help to court thee to repose.”
“Thanks, lovely tender-hearted maid,
Thy guest I'll sit till dawning day;
And O, may Heav'n that knows thy worth,
With plenty still such worth repay.
Hear, Mary! hear a lover's voice,
Who came to prove thy feeling heart;
And by thy sighs in pity's cause,
I swear we never more will part!”
Thy guest I'll sit till dawning day;
And O, may Heav'n that knows thy worth,
With plenty still such worth repay.
Hear, Mary! hear a lover's voice,
Who came to prove thy feeling heart;
And by thy sighs in pity's cause,
I swear we never more will part!”
| The Poetical Works of Robert Anderson | |