Attempt > Volume 1 and Select writings

20
THE ATTEMPT
Anri i’ the dark and dreary nicht,
When all was calm and still,
Save the sad souchin’ o’ the wind
And ripplin’ o’ the rill,
I’d gaze out on the darkness drear,
That now spread all around,
And think I heard his welcome voice
In every mocking sound.
And thus I’d sit for weary hours
I’ the cauld dreary nicht,
Till frae the east wi’ feehle ray
Broke the first streak o’ licht.
And then I laid my weary head
To take a short repose,
But aye afore my sleeping eyes
His weel-lo’ed figure rose;
| And I wad dream that he was hack
Ance mair to hame and me,
And that he’d left for ever mair
The angry raging sea.
But when the winter’s frost and snaw
With noisy tempest came,
A golden ray of sunshine broke
Upon my lanesome hame.
I was the mither o’ a bairn,
A lovely baby boy;
And who hut mithers can describe
A mither’s holy joy 1
Ah, yes! it was no idle dream,
It was a hahy fair,
Wi’ rosy lips and bricht blue e’en,
And bonnie auburn hair.
And quickly passed the spring hours now,
Wi’ him upon my knee,
Watching the giant vessels dance
Upon the angry sea,
And thinking o’ my Jamie dear,
Wha long had been frae me.
Oh, could he he a stiff cauld corpse,
Borne by the ruthless sea;
And wad he ne’er again return
To kiss his chubby hoy,
And wi’ his welcome voice and form
Complete a mither’s joy?
Ah, ladies! these were hard, hard thochts,
An’ yet I felt ’twas true,
That I my husband never mair
I’ this cauld world should view.
And aye I thocht my heart wad break
Wi’ grief and sorrow keen,
Had I no had a heavenly Friend
On whom my heart to lean.
But oft I felt ’twas very hard
To say “ Thy will he done,”
When I gazed upon my darling bairn,
My faitherless wee son.