 | The Poetical Works of Robert Story |  |
403
My Blessing on.
1851.
[_]
[In the farm-house of Threestoneburn, among the Cheviots, I have seen three generations of the same family, and have spent many happy hours with all of them.]
My blessing on yonder wild mountains,
On yonder wild valley between,
And on the sweet cot and its fountains,
The sweetest by wanderer seen!
How gladly—the world's weary ranger—
My days in that cot could I spend,
Whose door ne'er was barred on a stranger,
Whose bed—ne'er denied to a friend!
On yonder wild valley between,
And on the sweet cot and its fountains,
The sweetest by wanderer seen!
How gladly—the world's weary ranger—
My days in that cot could I spend,
Whose door ne'er was barred on a stranger,
Whose bed—ne'er denied to a friend!
The morn o'er the moorland was shining,
A morn without one streak of gloom—
'Twas splendour with beauty combining,
The blending of sunshine and bloom!
And the cot had each spell—when I found it—
The heart and the fancy to win;
For all mountain charms were around it,
And all mountain virtues within!
A morn without one streak of gloom—
'Twas splendour with beauty combining,
The blending of sunshine and bloom!
And the cot had each spell—when I found it—
The heart and the fancy to win;
For all mountain charms were around it,
And all mountain virtues within!
O sweet was the flower of the hearther,
As it bloomed in the sun and the dew;
But a sweeter flower there he may gather,
Who goes with a pure hand and true!
For that cot has some lovelier blossoms
Than even the heather supplies—
The father's good heart in their bosoms,
The mother's kind glance in their eyes!
As it bloomed in the sun and the dew;
But a sweeter flower there he may gather,
Who goes with a pure hand and true!
For that cot has some lovelier blossoms
Than even the heather supplies—
The father's good heart in their bosoms,
The mother's kind glance in their eyes!
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