Hew Morrison Collection > Reminiscences of the life and labours of Dugald Buchanan, formerly teacher and evangelist at Rannock, Perthshire

DUGALD Buchanan's spiritual songs. 187
The brain that bore sway-
Is all melted away,
Not a thought to it now belongs ;
Nor does it revolve
One single resolve
Of returning to right its wrongs.
Thy face gives no lore,
Who wert thou of yore,
If King or Duke thou hast stood.
Alexander the Great
Differs nothing in state
From his slave that died without food.
Grave-digger come near,
Say now in mine ear,
Whose skull in my hand I keep ;
That ask him I may,
While he lived, what his way,
Though never a word he'll speak.
Wer't a maid full of grace.
With a beautiful fice.
And a soft glowing eye without flaw, —
Thy beauty a net.
That was skilfully set,
To capture each youth that thee saw ?
Thy charms are all gone,
That love to thee won.
And are now become a disgust.
Accurst be the tomb
That blighted thy bloom.
And turn'd thy fair form into dust.