Echoes of the anvil Songs and poems Author:William Wilson Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: And all philosophy can now impress,— Grave prose, majestic verse, or genial rhyme— He lived, and sang, and died in lowliness, Amid the glory of his dreams ... more »sublime ! His memory dear, ye kindred bards revere, And still adore the slumbering sage of sages, The unconscious flower that shed from Nature's bower Its fragrance sweet, perfuming future ages; An April shower, a drop of heavenly dew, That gently fell where flows the Avon river; A star terrestrial, brightly beaming through Three hundred years, that yet shall burn for ever! April 27, 1864. TO A. W., A NATURALISED NEW ZEALANDER. Hail ! wanderin', lang-lost Thane o' Fife, Maist thirty years awa'; And how is Kate, your couthie wife, And a' your Maoris sma' ? December now wi' gowden bloom Gilds Canterbury braes, While here we cower beneath the gloom O' weary winter days. Your meadows are a' clothed in green, While ours are red and sear; 'Tis mornin' now wi' you, I ween, Tis ev'nin' wi' us here. Our sun around the south we see Ilk mornin' peerin' forth; While, paradoxical, bless me, Yours blazes in the north. A paradox ? there! that's a hit, For lang wi' ane anither We strove, licht-hearted, fit to fit, By labour linked thegither; And now though you are far awa' Frae me, your brother " Will," We hammer on, a sturdy twa, And fit to fit we're still! And fit to fit we'll keep our track, And never swerve a jot; E'en till we're baith laid back to back, By mony a friend forgot. Whate'er betide your bonny farm, Dug out o' rugged braes, Still gar your neebors feel the charm 0' a' your simple ways. And ne'er forget while lowly acks Wi' lofty thochts ye blend, Though men against ye turn their backs, The Lord will be your friend. Still a...« less