Blair Collection > Poems and songs

124 GAELIC AND ENGLISH POEMS.
SONNET TO A DEVOTED LADY.
Like a fair lily that in secret blooms
And gives to heaven its beauty's precious dower,
Like a sweet-scented violet that perfumes
Some peaceful, lone and unfrequented bower,
Mild as the moonbeam on the dewy flower
That sheds unseen its pure and silvery ray,
Calm as the day-dream of a golden hour.
Soft as the dawning of a young spring day,
Thy path lies far from the cold worldling's way.
The gentle voice that whispers ne'er in vain.
The hand that heals the wound and soothes the pain —
These are thy weapons in the world's afiray ;
Be thy reward, then, from the lips Divine,
" Thou what thou couldst has done for Me and Mine."
TO MY MUSE,
ON BEING FORBIDDEN BY MY DOCTOR TO WRITE.
I MAY not WOO thy smile, they say.
My sweet and pleasant friend ;
Yet thou to life, my tuneful fay.
Could sweet enchantment lend.
And though I at the stern command
Must part from thee awhile,
In love I bow and kiss thy hand.
And beg thee yet to smile.
Come yet again on angel wings,
And wake the silent lyre ;
Thy touch upon the silver strings
Can set my soul on fii'e.
Again the voices, old and dear,
Will whisper in my brain.
And on the desert wild and drear,
Will roses bloom again.
Come midst thy darkness with a ray
Of fair celestial light,