SOILLSE 'N AIGH.

A Shoillse 'n àigh, 'sa cheò, le d' bhoillsge caoin
Stiùir Thusa mi;

Tha 'n oidhche dorch', 's mi fad' o m' dhachaidh ghaoil,
O treòraich mi ;

Stiùir mi gach là, cha 'n iarr mi rathad réidh
Gu Tìr-an-àigh, is leòir leam ceum air cheum.

Cha robh mi ghnàth mar so, 's cha b'e mo mhiann
Thu bhi 'd reul iùil ;

Do m' thogradh féin gu'n tug mi tric an t-srian,
'S cha b' fhiù leam Thu ;

An geall air mùirn, 's mo chridhe uailleil, faoin,
A dh'aindeòin fiamh: na cuimhnich làith'n a dh'aom.

Gu ruige so a'd' thròcair bha Thu leam,
O stiùir mi ghnàth;

Feadh chreagan cruaidh is shloc gu ruig an t-àm
'S am brist an là.

'S am faic mi gnùis nan càirdean a chaidh uam, A chaill mi seal, 's d'an tug mi gaol bha buan.

THE REAPER.

(By H. W. LONGFELLOW).

There is a reaper, whose name is Death,
And with his sickle keen

He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,

And the flowers that grow between.

'Shall I have naught that is fair?" saith he, "Have naught but the bearded grain;

Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me I will give them back again."

He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes,

He kissed their drooping leaves;

It was for the Lord of Paradise

He bound them in his sheaves.

"My Lord has need of these flowerets gay," The reaper said, and smiled;

'Dear tokens of the earth are they,

Where he was once a child.

"They shall all bloom in fields of light
Transplanted by my care;

And the saints upon their garments white
These sacred blossoms wear.

And the mother gave, in tears and pain,
The flowers she most did love ;

She knew she would find them all again
In the fields of light above.

Oh, not in cruelty, not in wrath,

The reaper came that day;

'Twas an angel visited the green earth

And took the flowers away.

AM BUANAICHE.

Tha buanaiche d' an ainm am Bàs,
Le fhàl ro ghuineach, geur,

A' toirt nan diasan garbh gu làr,

'S gach blàth tha fàs mu 'm freumh.

"Am faigh mi," deir e, "nì a bhuain
Ach diasan cruaidh gun bhrìgh?
Ged 's toigh leam anail chaoin nam flùr,
Liùbhram iad suas a rìs."

Thog e na flùrain, shil a dheòir,
Is phòg e 'n duilleach uain';
Is ann do Thighearna nam Feart
A thaisg e iad 'na sguaib.

"Mo Mhaighstir tha am feum nam blàth,” Gu'n d'rinn e ràdh le aoidh,

Mar chuimhneachain air làithean 'dig, Nuair chòmhnuich e 'm measg dhaoin'.

"Ath-chuiream iad 's a' Phàrras Nuadh, 'S gu buadhmhor ni iad fàs,

'S bidh iad mu thrusgan geal nan naomh, A' boillsgeadh mar an là."

Liubhair a' mhàthair 's deur 'na sùil,

A flùrain lurach, òg,

An dùil ri 'm faicinn uile slàn,
An àros Righ na Glòir'.

Am Buanaiche cha robh fo ghruaim
A' buain nam blàthan sèimh ;
'Ste aingeal glòrmhor 'thainig nuas,
'S thug leis iad suas gu nèamh.

ETERNAL FATHER, STRONG TO SAVE.

Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep,

O hear us when we cry to Thee
For those in peril on the sea.

O Christ, whose voice the waters heard,
And hushed their raging at Thy word,
Who walkedst on the foaming deep,
And calm amid the storm didst sleep.
O hear us when we cry to Thee
For those in peril on the sea.

O Holy Spirit, who didst brood
Upon the waters dark and rude,
And bid their angry tumult cease,
And give, for wild confusion, peace,
O hear us when we cry to Thee
For those in peril on the sea.

O Trinity of love and power,
Our brethren shield in danger's hour;
From rock and tempest, fire and foe,
Protect them wheresoe'er they go;
Thus evermore shall rise to Thee

Glad hymns of praise from land and sea.

IEHOBHA MHOIR, LE D'GHAIRDEAN TREUN.

Iehobha mhóir, le d'ghàirdean treun,
A chuir fo smachd na tonnan breun,
'S a dh'òrduich do na cuantan mòr,
An àite chumail mar bu chòir-

O éisd r'ar n-ùrnuigh 'g éirigh suas
Air son na dream tha 'n gàbhadh cuain.

A Chriosd, a cheannsaich strìth nan dùl-
Aig d'fhacal bha iad tosdach, ciùin—
A choisich air a' mhuir gun fhiamh,
'S a chaidil dh' aindeoin gàir nan sian-
O éisd r' ar n-ùrnuigh 'g éirigh suas
Air son na dream tha 'n gàbhadh cuain.

A Spioraid Naoimh, aig breith an t-saogh'l,
'Laigh air na h-uisgeachan gu caoin,
A chronaich luasgan cuain is strìth,
'S a chuir 'nan àite clos is sith-

O éisd r' ar n-ùrnuigh 'g éirigh suas
Air son na dream tha 'n gàbhadh cuain.

A Thrianaid bheannaichte nam buadh,
Ar bràithrean dìon am measg nan stuadh,
Bho chladach salach, stoirm, is nàmh,
Cum iad, is stiùir gu cala tàimh ;

Is éiridh dhuit gu siorruidh suas
Ard-laoidhean ait air tir 's air cuan.