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75
Principal Shairp.
SEPTEMBER, 1885.
Let Jura wail, the loud Atlantic sweep
To Argyle's inland solitudes forlorn,
By sound and firth let sobbing seas be borne
From that dark shore where song is laid asleep.
For never gentler heart did climb the steep
Unwavering, never holier oath was sworn
Than his, who in his youth's exalted morn
To nature gave his innocence to keep.
To Argyle's inland solitudes forlorn,
By sound and firth let sobbing seas be borne
From that dark shore where song is laid asleep.
For never gentler heart did climb the steep
Unwavering, never holier oath was sworn
Than his, who in his youth's exalted morn
To nature gave his innocence to keep.
On! lost from human presence, but unlost
To those who felt thy heart in thy right hand
And knew it beat in tune to all things good,
Sad are the vales of Wordsworth's Cumberland
And drear St. Andrews scholar-brotherhood,
But happier sure Heaven's love-enlightened host.
To those who felt thy heart in thy right hand
And knew it beat in tune to all things good,
Sad are the vales of Wordsworth's Cumberland
And drear St. Andrews scholar-brotherhood,
But happier sure Heaven's love-enlightened host.
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