The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd Centenary Edition. With a Memoir of the Author, by the Rev. Thomas Thomson ... Poems and Life. With Many Illustrative Engravings [by James Hogg] |
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![]() | The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd | ![]() |
The light of life blazed not again;
He could not say the word Amen;
But he turned his eye, and spread his hand
To the star above his native land;
Serenely in that posture lay,
And breathed his generous soul away.
He could not say the word Amen;
But he turned his eye, and spread his hand
To the star above his native land;
Serenely in that posture lay,
And breathed his generous soul away.
The Russian heaved a sigh profound,
And gazed insensate on the ground,
The burning tear struck from his eye,
And flung it on the breeze to dry.
The stoic Prussian, in his pride,
Unstaidly looked from side to side,
Then fixed on heaven a solemn scowl,
Impelled by his unfathomed soul,
That felt deep yearnings unconfest
For some eternal home of rest.
“What's this?” said he, “who can conceive?
I cannot fathom, nor believe
The substance of this Christian faith;
But 'tis a steadfast hold in death!
I never saw its hideous door
Entered with such a mien before!”
And gazed insensate on the ground,
The burning tear struck from his eye,
And flung it on the breeze to dry.
The stoic Prussian, in his pride,
Unstaidly looked from side to side,
Then fixed on heaven a solemn scowl,
Impelled by his unfathomed soul,
That felt deep yearnings unconfest
For some eternal home of rest.
“What's this?” said he, “who can conceive?
I cannot fathom, nor believe
The substance of this Christian faith;
But 'tis a steadfast hold in death!
I never saw its hideous door
Entered with such a mien before!”
Onward they passed in moody plight,
Leaving the pale corse on the height,
And said before to British lords
This soldier's prayer and dying words,
Who well can vouch this tale is true
Of converse held on Waterloo.
Leaving the pale corse on the height,
And said before to British lords
This soldier's prayer and dying words,
Who well can vouch this tale is true
Of converse held on Waterloo.
We learned our comrade was no more,
And many an eye for him ran o'er,
In friendship's little circle kind,
For who not leaves some friends behind?
But yet his prayer was heard in part,
For no one had the cruel heart
His parent of his fate to tell;—
She died believing he was well.
And many an eye for him ran o'er,
In friendship's little circle kind,
For who not leaves some friends behind?
But yet his prayer was heard in part,
For no one had the cruel heart
His parent of his fate to tell;—
She died believing he was well.
Ofttimes I visit for his sake
The cottage by the lonely lake,
And I have heard its beauteous dame
With tears pronounce her lover's name:
And once I saw her comely child;
It bent its eyes on air and smiled,
Stretching its arms with fervent mien,
As if to reach to something seen.
I've seen the wild-fowl watch and quake,
And cower in terror 'mid the brake,
And the mild lamb with steady eye
Gazing intent, I knew not why;
Then chilling thoughts have on me pressed
Of an unbodied heavenly guest,
Sent there to roam the lonely wild,
To guard the mother and the child;
For to the death-bed prayer is given
Free passage to the throne of heaven!
The cottage by the lonely lake,
And I have heard its beauteous dame
With tears pronounce her lover's name:
And once I saw her comely child;
It bent its eyes on air and smiled,
Stretching its arms with fervent mien,
As if to reach to something seen.
I've seen the wild-fowl watch and quake,
And cower in terror 'mid the brake,
And the mild lamb with steady eye
Gazing intent, I knew not why;
Then chilling thoughts have on me pressed
Of an unbodied heavenly guest,
Sent there to roam the lonely wild,
To guard the mother and the child;
For to the death-bed prayer is given
Free passage to the throne of heaven!
![]() | The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd | ![]() |