The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan In Two Volumes. With a Portrait |
| I. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| II. |
| The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan | ||
I ceased in wonder; for the other lay
Smiling like one in a deep trance, his face
Looking to heaven through the tremulous boughs,
His eyes grown soft with dew of deepest joy,
The light of Nature flowing on his frame
Bright and baptismal. ‘Friend,’ the musical voice
Answer'd, now thrilling like the skylark's song,
‘The law which made me and the law I keep
Absolve me, and my sins are all forgiven.
I take them not to market in the town,
I put no price upon them, vaunt them not;
I bring them hither, under a green tree,
And the sun drinks them, and my soul is shriven.
Oh, blest were men if to the quiet heart
Of their great Mother they crept oftener:
Her arms are ever open, her great hope
As inexhaustible as the sweet milk
With which she feeds innumerable young;
And pillow'd here, upon her own bright breast,
Safe through all issues I can pity those
Who waste their substance in Christopolis.’
Smiling like one in a deep trance, his face
Looking to heaven through the tremulous boughs,
His eyes grown soft with dew of deepest joy,
The light of Nature flowing on his frame
Bright and baptismal. ‘Friend,’ the musical voice
Answer'd, now thrilling like the skylark's song,
‘The law which made me and the law I keep
Absolve me, and my sins are all forgiven.
I take them not to market in the town,
I put no price upon them, vaunt them not;
I bring them hither, under a green tree,
And the sun drinks them, and my soul is shriven.
Oh, blest were men if to the quiet heart
Of their great Mother they crept oftener:
Her arms are ever open, her great hope
72
With which she feeds innumerable young;
And pillow'd here, upon her own bright breast,
Safe through all issues I can pity those
Who waste their substance in Christopolis.’
| The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan | ||