English

About Yule, quhen the wind blew cule
And the round tables began,
A! there is cum to our king's court
Mony a well-favour'd man.

The queen luikt owre the castle wa',
Beheld baith dale and down,
And then she saw young Waters
Cum riding to the town.

His footmen they did rin before,
His horsemen rade behind,
Ane mantel of the burning gowd
Did keip him frae the wind.

Gowden graith'd his horse before
And siller shod behind,
The horse yo[u]ng Waters rade upon
Was fleeter than the wind.

“T ELL me a story—please,” my little girl
Lisp'd from her cradle. So I bent me down
And told her how it rain'd, and rain'd, and rain'd,
Till all the flowers were cover'd, and the trees
Hid their tall heads, and where the houses stood,
And people dwelt, a fearful deluge roll'd;
Because the world was wicked, and refused
To heed the words of God. But one good man,
Who long had warn'd the wicked to repent,
Obey, and live, taught by the voice of Heaven,
Had built an ark; and thither, with his wife

“$5 for
Mr. Ralph Waldo
Emerson
plus oats
for his
horse

(the first
time
any man
was paid
for a speech)

Approved,
Ebenezer
Grasshopper,
Town Clerk,
March the 9th,
1826,
Milbury, Mass”

Night deepen'd round me on those upland slopes;
The phosphor dome of heaven diffused its green
And failing glow; yet all the ghostly hills
Loom'd through the dusk distinctly. On the loose
And yielding soil of some fresh-furrow'd field,
Uncertain, lost, I fared, then, stricken, paused;
For, lo, the dread arc of a flaming disc
Rose o'er the hill, as if an angry eye
Unfolded, loom'd—unradiating, red—
And with an awful aspect seem'd to watch
My doubting steps!
Unwittingly—I thought—
Here have I stepp'd perchance on ghostly ground,

Up the hill to Holton is a merry climb;
I have walked to Holton many is the time:
Dew upon the grasses, roses by the road,
Till you never notice if you have a load.

Down the hill from Holton is a merry way,
Coming home from Holton at the close of day:
Straight ahead the sunset, straight ahead the stars,
And the beacon burning at the open bars.

Up the hill to forty was a merry tramp:
Daisies on the hillside, lilies in the damp,
Friends to walk beside me all the busy years,
Sharing of my laughter, sharing of my tears.

I wonder did you ever count
The value of one human fate;
Or sum the infinite amount
Of one heart's treasures, and the weight
Of Life's one venture, and the whole concentrate purpose of a soul.

And if you ever pause to think
That all this in your hands I laid
Without a fear:—did you not shrink
From such a burden? half afraid,
Half wishing that you could divide the risk, or cast it all aside.

While Love has daily perils, such
As none foresee and none control;
And hearts are strung so that one touch,

Under the crosses white on a foreign meadow
Mute they are lying who marched in the spring-sweet sun.
Nothing is here of the life, the joy, the loving,
Before a war was won.

Under the crosses white on a foreign meadow
Mute they are lying who marched in the spring-sweet sun.
Nothing is here of the life, the joy, the loving,
Before a war was won.

On a hill-top, divested of trouble, I rested,
One blue, starry night,
In a fair eastern chamber, where vines strove to clamber
And play in the light.
There star-beams, uncertain, crept down through a curtain
Of thin, airy fleece;
There, veiling her brightness in silvery whiteness,
The moonlight, caressing, stole in with a blessing,
To the chamber called Peace.

The mountains surrounding, with radiance abounding,
In the broad blaze of day,
Encircled my spirit, to strengthen and cheer it,

O Lord, Thou art my soul's beloved.
Who leaves Thee to make trial of another, let his face be blackened with dust and ashes.
To Thee would I sacrifice the whole world, were it but mine.
To the Hindu Rama, to the Turk Allah: in many ways they speak of Thee.
Where the two ways meet in one, there my heart sets her belief.

Thou art Eternal, Thou knowest all, in every heart Thy Presence dwells.
The Jogi, the pandit, the rich in bounty, searched on every side but never found the end.
Within the house all was illumined: Dharni saw it and was glad.

Closer, closer would I be
Drawn to Jesus, day by day,
Closer drawn to Him, and further
Drawn from sin and self away.
Closer, closer would I be,
Drawn, O Blessed One, to Thee!

Closer, closer would I be,
Closer to the Crucified,
Closer to the blood-stained Cross,
Closer to His bleeding side.
Closer, closer would I be,
Closer, closer, Lord, to Thee!

Closer, closer, closer, Jesus,
Draw me closer, closer still,
I am trusting, fully trusting,
For I know Thou canst and will.
Closer, closer unto Thee,