Attempt > Volume 1 and Select writings

44
THE ATTEMPT.
Each one thy fiat, Lord, obeys;
Each rainbow-tinted leaf Thy praise
Rejoices to uphold;
The stream would all unheeded flow,
Did not Thine image in it glow,
And all its charms unfold.
These speak Thy power, but most Thy love,
The gentle dropping from above
Of Thy forgiving grace,
In silent eloquence is told
By fields that bow their waves of gold,
To feed a sinful race.
Mena.
fa parties.
“ On fasten-e’en we had a rockin’,
To ca’ the crack and weave our stockin’ ;
And there was muckle fun and jokin’,
Ye need na doubt :
At length we had a hearty yokin’
At sang about.”
Alas ! poor Burns, wliat would be tby remark if thou knewest that such a scene
of innocent and delightful amusement as is here described, where industry and plea¬
sure are so beautifully interwoven, merely lives in the imagination of thy degenerate
countrymen as worthy of remembrance through the touch of thy “hamely muse?”
But it is only too true that rockings are now among the things that were, and with
them has perished another of those characteristics which so strikingly marked out the
separate individualities of Scotland among the nations. The ruin of such institutions
may be regarded with regret by those with whom the idea of antiquity is that of per¬
fection ; but in the present day, when the gigantic strides made in every department of
literature, art, philosophy, and science, render the nineteenth century an era in the
history of the world, it is hardly to be expected that society would remain in that
primitive state of feeling which dictated such meetings as rockings. Indeed, such a
happy combination of industry with pleasure is deemed an extremely old-fashioned
notion by the greater portion of the votaries of the modern world.
Each ear that rustling smites the wind
Seems, to a deeply thoughtful mind,
To bid it waft abroad
The all-surpassing debt we owe
To Him from whom all blessings flow,
Our Friend, our King, our God.
God of the Autumn ! God of love,
List from Thy sapphire throne above,
With kind, accepting ear;
The words of praise our lips would sing,
And those poor thanks our hearts would bring,
Do Thou consent to hear!