Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Harp of Renfrewshire

101
33.
More in my element I wotild have been,
Wandering, at pleasure, all the country round,
A peaceful brother. Monk, or Capuchin,
Whilst, in each house, a kindly host I fovmd ;
Or loitering in the shady cloister's bound ;
Or sunning myself on bank, where wild-thyme grows
In that calm sphere, each stilly sight and sound
Would have called fortli my genius for repose ;
Kind cherishing each high propensity — to doze.
34.
To nod, to doze, to slumber, to sleep sound,
These form, of human haj^piness, the scale ;
For waking bliss has never yet been found ;
At least, if found, it very soon turns stale :
The grains of faradise, they mix with ale.
In drowsy bliss, the willing senses steep,
Wliilst care makes still our slumberings to fail.
To eat, to walk is but to sow — to reap
Life's richest harvest — is, in corner warm, to sleep.
35.
I hope the good old times will yet come back
The jovial times of nuns, and monks, and
I think, I'm gifted with the sacred knack
Of playing Abbot — riding upon asses.
In which this town each other town surpasses
The A bbut of Paisley, then, I ought to be :
With many a holy tax I'd bless all classes ;
The Paisley bank-notes would belong to me,
For pictur'd on each one the Abbot's self you se