« FöregåendeFortsätt »
(A VER the emblem of Thy body broken, V Over the symbol of Thy blood once shed, I pledge allegiance, and renew the token
Of love to Thee, my ever-living Head; But, ah! how cold and feeble that of mine, Compared, O Saviour, with that love of Thine !
A love divine, eternal, overflowing-
A love impartial, free, and unconfined, Unmerited, and no mutation knowing,
Longing to bless the whole of human kind; In these memorials, with the eye of faith, Seen are its triumphs even unto death.
But, O my soul, in humble exultation,
Rejoice in all it hath achieved for thee:
Pardon, and power, o'er all hostility:
Thrice blessed boon, all estimate transcending
Gratuitous, but to the Donor dear. Worthy, O is He, praises never ending;
All glory, homage, gratitude sincere: Such condescension who can fully scan ? Wonder, O angels, and adore, O man.
Hence having in Thy tabernacle holy
Again avouched Thee as my all in all, Let me abjure a world of sin and folly,
That ne'er it may again my soul enthral: Teach me, O Lord, and guide where'er I roam, Till safe in joy I reach my promised home.
TO MY DOG NAILER.
CAN this heart forget thee ? never !
Is not there thy name enshrined ?
Favourite of the canine kind.
Dear to me thy freaks and rambles
Dear as light and life to me;
Winding, bounding ever free.
Ever faithful and devoted
Bribeless ever night and day;
Who by wiles could filch away?
Who in violence dares to venture
E’er thy master to assail;
Who once ever saw thee fail ?
Compared with thine, alas, how shaded
All our loves and social ties, How fragile, easily invaded,
Even by the breath that flies.
Would thy example could we follow,
Happy even here our lot; What faithless vows, or friendships hollow,
E'er the human name would blot ?
Can this heart forget thee? never !
Is not there thy name enshrined ? Yes: I love thee, and will ever,
Favourite of the canine kind.
THE FREE KIRK.
: * He is the freeman whom the Truth makes free.”
THROUGH Caledonia's wide domain
A holy war's begun again, Then let ilk honest son maintain
His father's cause, And Knox's banner never stain
While breath he draws;
But wield the Gospel sword on high,
I mean the Free,
Though earth and hell may her assail,
What can withstand,
In spite o' a' opposing clamours,
And schemes, and quirks,
Can douce the Kirks.
But hear what T- e has to say,
In ony plea?
As a' may see.
That spirit-stirring son o' thunder,
Whase red-hot bolts waud rive asunder,
E’en wa’s o' brass; He mines ilk legal Zion under
Fient ane he'll pass. Till down they tumble a' in heaps, And out ilk holy humbug creeps; Wi' conscience' besom a' he sweeps,
Stock, lock, and barrel, Down headlong to the deepest deeps,
To end the quarrel. Thus deals he, in his rev'rend pleasure, Wi' a' his woe-doomed shrines o' Cæsar, And shows the Court o' Session's plea, sir,
To claim them a'
O’ane and a'.
'Tween Him and thern, Sa that His throne nae mair He's seen in
O fie! O shame!
Which a' can tell,
They sprang frae hell.