 | Lays of the Highlands and Islands |  |
110
OBAN.
HUMOURS OF HIGHLAND WEATHER.
Whither, O whither hath fled
The lightsome and lovely display
Of Beauty, but yesterday shed
On the crag, and the Ben, and the bay?
Up from the West came a cloud,
Small, but to greatness it grew,
Till it wove from its tissue a shroud
That curtains the breadth of the blue.
The lightsome and lovely display
Of Beauty, but yesterday shed
On the crag, and the Ben, and the bay?
Up from the West came a cloud,
Small, but to greatness it grew,
Till it wove from its tissue a shroud
That curtains the breadth of the blue.
I look and I see in the far
Banners of darkness unfurl'd,
Volumes of dimness that mar
The smile on the face of the world:
Gone into blankness hath fled
The emerald stretch of the glen,
And the rosy gleam on the head
Of the broad purpureal Ben.
Banners of darkness unfurl'd,
Volumes of dimness that mar
The smile on the face of the world:
111
The emerald stretch of the glen,
And the rosy gleam on the head
Of the broad purpureal Ben.
Such are the humours that blot
The sky with the change of the year;
Would'st thou be mortal, and not
Temper thy bliss with a tear?
Would'st thou have day without night?
Ponder a moment, and own
That shadow must come with the light,
And day by the darkness be known.
The sky with the change of the year;
Would'st thou be mortal, and not
Temper thy bliss with a tear?
Would'st thou have day without night?
Ponder a moment, and own
That shadow must come with the light,
And day by the darkness be known.
Wisely the Mighty one blends
Gloom with the glory of things,
Grieving with gladness he sends
Wisely to beggars and kings.
Wisely he liveth who links
His life as a part to the whole,
Wisely he thinketh who thinks
Humbly, with hymns in his soul.
Gloom with the glory of things,
Grieving with gladness he sends
Wisely to beggars and kings.
Wisely he liveth who links
His life as a part to the whole,
Wisely he thinketh who thinks
Humbly, with hymns in his soul.
112
A SEPTEMBER BLAST IN OBAN.
By Heaven! the house is rocking like a ship;The strong trees bend like osiers, and the sea
Flings long white scourges forth, with truculent glee,
And rides with madded speed high-armed, to whip
The quaking land! O what an altered theme
From yesterday, when in the breezeless glen
The sear leaf dropt, and high on Cruachan Ben
The white cloud rested like a saintly dream.
Such are thy changes, universal Lord,
Fearful to feeble man! but thou art strong,
And Nature still rings forth a jubilant song,
Where thy sure hand doth sweep the varied chord.
Our house may reel; but, as no storm had been,
The big round globe rolls through the blue Serene.
113
THE LAST WEEK OF SEPTEMBER IN OBAN.
Dear love, what change in the fair face of thingsSince first this peaceful green retreat we knew,
When every sun shone through a lovelier blue,
And every zephyr flapped more fragrant wings!
And thou didst sit upon the turfy bank
While thy green parrot wandered round thy neck,
Drinking in beauty, where the day-god sank
In golden soft repose without a speck.
But now the rainful blast comes whistling by,
The black-maned clouds, like Furies on the wing
Skir past; the sea growls up with bristling looks.
What remedy?—thank heaven the cure is nigh,
Heap up the logs, and trim the lamp, and bring
Our winter-friends, our long-neglected books.
| Lays of the Highlands and Islands | |