Poems of Purpose and Sketches in Prose of Scottish Peasant Life and Character in Auld Langsyne, Sketches of Local Scenes and Characters, With a Glossary. By Janet Hamilton |
Poems of Purpose and Sketches in Prose | ||
166
LINES
Inscribed to my dear young friend W. Logan, jun., aged ten years, 1864.
My love to you, my youthful friend—
'Tis not to dear papa I send
These lines. For you I them intend,
Dear Willie.
'Tis not to dear papa I send
These lines. For you I them intend,
Dear Willie.
I hope you're getting well again,
Quite free from languor and from pain;
And thanks to God you'll not restrain,
My Willie.
Quite free from languor and from pain;
And thanks to God you'll not restrain,
My Willie.
You now are all your parents' joy—
A good, obedient, loving boy,
Who never will their peace destroy,
Good Willie.
A good, obedient, loving boy,
Who never will their peace destroy,
Good Willie.
With tender care and loving fear
They watch o'er you, my Willie, dear,
Lest danger, grief, or sin come near
Their Willie.
They watch o'er you, my Willie, dear,
Lest danger, grief, or sin come near
Their Willie.
167
They pray for you in hope and love,
That you in duty's path may move,
And shelter you like nestling dove,
Blest Willie.
That you in duty's path may move,
And shelter you like nestling dove,
Blest Willie.
They saw from their fond bosom spring
To heaven, a dove on snow-white wing:
Soft “words of comfort” you will bring,
Kind Willie.
To heaven, a dove on snow-white wing:
Soft “words of comfort” you will bring,
Kind Willie.
To youth the world seems very fair,
And they would fondly linger there,
Its pleasures and its joys to share,
Young Willie.
And they would fondly linger there,
Its pleasures and its joys to share,
Young Willie.
But you have been well taught to know
That time is short for all below,
And boys as well as men must go,
My Willie.
That time is short for all below,
And boys as well as men must go,
My Willie.
Then, come to Jesus, come to-day;
And, if in youth you're called away,
A home in heaven you'll have for aye,
Dear Willie.
And, if in youth you're called away,
A home in heaven you'll have for aye,
Dear Willie.
P.S.—Dear Willie, come to me when spring
Wakes up the little birds to sing,
When trees are green and flow'rets spring,
Come Willie.
Wakes up the little birds to sing,
When trees are green and flow'rets spring,
Come Willie.
Poems of Purpose and Sketches in Prose | ||