Blair Collection > Celtic monthly > Volume 1, 1893

THE CELTIC MONTHLY.
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MY JENNIE.
They're spoiling my darling, my Jennie !
Those grand folks who took her away —
The bonniest lass among many,
She made our dull village-home gay.
Her face was the fairest of any,
Her smile like a midsummer day ;
But now she's no longer my Jennie
Since the grand ladies took her away.
When last she came west, to the Highlands,
She told me our manners were rough !
The oat-cakes I sent her were vile ones,
She wanted no more of such stuff !
I answered her only by silence,
My looks might have told her enough ;
Warm hearts can be pierced in the Highlands,
Though accent and ways may be rough !
She said I was dowdy beside her,
And no one would take us for kin ;
The lace on my frills should be wider,
To suit the new fashion just in.
Our changeless white lilies belied her,
That need not to sew nor to spin ;
My own loving heart when beside her,
Forgets about laees just in.
Her lady has said, when she marries,
Our Jen shall go with her abroad —
She'll take her to London and Paris,
No wonder her old home looks odd !
For the newest Spring fashions she tallies —
(World-bound by a measuring rod !)
True hearts must be hungry in Paris :
If Fashion is worshipped as God !
When Samlie and .Ten ran together,
He called her " wee wifie," in play ;
They waded knee-deep in the heather,
And bare-footed ran on the brae.
In storm or in sunshiny weather,
As pretty as pictures were they —
So happy if only together,
True lovers, though only in play.
But now though his love would enfold her
From all of life's bitter and drear,
She says he's grown coarser and older :
She mimics his speech with a sneer !
Far dearer than life would he hold her,
Though he lack the town gloss and veneer;
His passion, thrown back so, will smoulder,
Till it burns into hatred, I fear.
Come back, my darling my Jennie!
Let the past drop forever away !
Let Sandie still love you as when he
Called you his wee wifie in play ;
Make the mother heart gladdest of any,
Oh, fill it with Heaven for aye !
We'll welcome you dearly, our Jennie,
And never again let you stray !
Carkol Ki>
AN IDEAL,
Long years ago, when worn to death,
And crushed till I could hardly stand ;
I felt the comfort of thy hand,
I felt the fragrance of thy breath.
The pitying light of thy dear eyes
Shone through the darkness of my pain.
As stars shine after summer rain,
Glimm'ring so softly in the skies.
I felt the sweetness of thy lips
One moment on my fevered brow ;
That touch remains — I feel it now,
It thrills me to the linger tips.
My cottage walls became illumed,
My toil became as light as day,
I wild r"joieing on my way,
My heart to prayer and praise attuned.
A lady, with an angel's hand
Had touched my frozen heart, and lo!
A stream of light, a warmth, a glow,
Transforming sea, and sky, and land !
Flowers sprung upon my path, and I,
No more felt anguish or despair,
But gladness that a star so fair
Arose upon my cold, gray sky.
Made me forget myself, and feel
A wish to wipe away the tears
Of lives, so full of woes and fears,
Hardened with sin. and toil, and ill.
O love ! God's greatest gift and best,
Here and hereafter. Be it mine
To teach thy wonders — great, divine,
And glory of our future rest.
Annie MacKay.