Willie Winkie and Other Songs and Poems By William Miller: Edited, with an Introduction by Robert Ford |
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Lines to Victor Hugo
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 | Willie Winkie and Other Songs and Poems |  |
19
Lines to Victor Hugo
On reading of his great grief for the death of his grandson, Victor Hugo.
Aged 1 Year — Months.
Has kindly Time made doon thy grief?
The soun's de'ed out that wailed sae wearie;
The deein' moans o' hopes that lay
Like wither'd leaves roun' thy wee dearie.
The soun's de'ed out that wailed sae wearie;
The deein' moans o' hopes that lay
Like wither'd leaves roun' thy wee dearie.
Fresh from his rosy sleep, I ween,
How fondly cuddlin' ye wad bless him;
But Oh! I dinna, canna ken,
When stretch'd in death how ye wad kiss him.
How fondly cuddlin' ye wad bless him;
But Oh! I dinna, canna ken,
When stretch'd in death how ye wad kiss him.
The agony of life to live,
Reft o' the pride with which ye view'd him;
To feel the thought torn frae your breist,
“How proud he'll be to think I lo'ed him.”
Reft o' the pride with which ye view'd him;
To feel the thought torn frae your breist,
“How proud he'll be to think I lo'ed him.”
I ken the ploys that ye had plann'd,
The summer days' sweet lingering journeys,
To pu' the gowans, or to sit
By thymey brim o' moorlan' burnies.
The summer days' sweet lingering journeys,
To pu' the gowans, or to sit
By thymey brim o' moorlan' burnies.
Or sing him sangs that he wad ken
The meanin' o' when he grew older;
And as thy voice rose wi' the strain
Note that his braid brent brow look'd bolder.
The meanin' o' when he grew older;
And as thy voice rose wi' the strain
Note that his braid brent brow look'd bolder.
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I hae an oe, a lassie wean,—
A wee ma'msel' as ye wad ca' her,
I look at her, then think o' thee:—
What wad I do did ought befa' her!
A wee ma'msel' as ye wad ca' her,
I look at her, then think o' thee:—
What wad I do did ought befa' her!
Your grief has griev'd me, and I feel
Man's closely link'd wi' ane anither;
Thy darlin' grandchild's made me know
His grandpa's but my bigger brither.
Man's closely link'd wi' ane anither;
Thy darlin' grandchild's made me know
His grandpa's but my bigger brither.
A mother bending owre an urn,
We inly feel for what she's greetin';
Or see that Hope, wi' upturned ee,
But calmly waits a promised meetin'.
We inly feel for what she's greetin';
Or see that Hope, wi' upturned ee,
But calmly waits a promised meetin'.
Go, Mossman! shape me deeper woe,
With all the power of Poet-Sculptor;
An old bard with bewillow'd harp,—
Great Victor wailing little Victor.
With all the power of Poet-Sculptor;
An old bard with bewillow'd harp,—
Great Victor wailing little Victor.
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