 | Benedicite and Other Poems |  |
75
A Glen in Arran.
In sweet Glencloy, by Brodick Bay,
I gleaned a holy thought to-day:
Far up the glen, against the sky,
A silver streamlet caught my eye,
Descending its precipitous way.
I gleaned a holy thought to-day:
Far up the glen, against the sky,
A silver streamlet caught my eye,
Descending its precipitous way.
Onward its gathering waters stray,
And strike from stones a cheerful lay,
While their refreshing task they ply
In sweet Glencloy.
And strike from stones a cheerful lay,
While their refreshing task they ply
In sweet Glencloy.
Such be my daily course, I pray,—
Starting beneath a Heaven-sought ray,
To bless the world as I pass by,
Turn hindrances to harmony,
Nor lose what glancing ripples say
In sweet Glencloy.
Starting beneath a Heaven-sought ray,
To bless the world as I pass by,
Turn hindrances to harmony,
Nor lose what glancing ripples say
In sweet Glencloy.
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