Let others fear,— to me more dear
Than all the pride of May:

The tempest's howl, it soothes my soul,

My griefs it seems to join ;
The leafless trees my fancy please,

Their fate resembles mine!

Thou Power Supreme, whose mighty scheme These woes of mine fulfil,

Here firm I rest, they must be best,

Because they are Thy will!
Then all I want (oh, do Thou grant

This one request of mine!)
Since to enjoy Thou dost deny,

Assist me to resign!

In the same spirit, and indeed expressive of the same idea, is

A PRAYER,

WRITTEN UNDER THE PRESSURE OF VIOLENT ANGUISH.

OH Thou great Being! what Thou art

Surpasses me to know:

Yet sure I am, that known to Thee

Are all Thy works below.

Thy creature here before Thee stands,

All wretched and distrest;

Yet sure those ills that wring my soul
Obey Thy high behest.

Sure Thou, Almighty, canst not act
From cruelty or wrath!

Oh free my weary eyes from tears,

Or close them fast in death!

But if I must afflicted be,

To suit some wise design,
Then man my soul with firm resolves
To bear, and not repine!

FROM A MEMORANDUM BOOK.

OH why the deuce should I repine,
And be an ill foreboder?
I'm twenty-three, and five feet nine,
I'll go and be a sodger!

I gat some gear wi' mickle care,
I held it weel thegither;

But now it's gane, and something mair-
I'll go and be a sodger!

Oн leave novels, ye Mauchline belles,

Ye're safer at your spinning-wheel;

Such witching books are baited hooks
For rakish rooks like Rob Mossgiel.

Beware a tongue that's smoothly hung,
A heart that warmly seems to feel;
That feeling heart but acts a part;
'Tis rakish art in Rob Mossgiel.

MY FATHER WAS A FARMER.
TUNE- The Weaver and his Shuttle, O.

My father was a farmer upon the Carrick border, O,

And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O;

He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne'er a farthing, O;

For without an honest manly heart no man was worth regarding, O.

Then out into the world my course I did determine, O;

Though to be rich was not my wish, yet to be great was charming, O:

My talents they were not the worst, nor yet my education, O;

Resolved was I, at least to try, to mend my situation, O.

In many a way, and vain essay, I courted fortune's favour, O;

Some cause unseen still stept between, to frustrate each endeavour, O.

Sometimes by foes I was o'erpowered, sometimes by friends forsaken, O;

And when my hope was at the top, I still was worst mistaken, O.

Then sore harassed, and tired at last, with fortune's vain delusion, O,

I dropt my schemes, like idle dreams, and came to this conclusion, 0:—

The past was bad, and the future hid

or ill untried, O;

its good

But the present hour was in my power, and so I would enjoy it, O.

No help, nor hope, nor view had I, nor person to

So I must toil, and sweat, and broil, and labor to

sustain me, O;

To plough and sow, to reap and mow, my father bred me early, O;

For one, he said, to labor bred, was a match for fortune fairly, O.

Thus all obscure, unknown, and poor, through life I'm doomed to wander, O,

Till down my weary bones I lay, in everlasting slumber, O.

No view nor care, but shun whate'er might breed me pain or sorrow, O;

I live to-day as well's I may, regardless of tomorrow, O.

But cheerful still, I am as well as a monarch in a palace, O,

Though fortune's frown still hunts me down with all her wonted malice, 0:

I make indeed my daily bread, but ne'er can make it further, O;

But as daily bread is all I need, I do not much regard her, O.

When sometimes by my labor I earn

money, O,

a little

Some unforeseen misfortune comes generally upon

me, 0:

Mischance, mistake, or by neglect, or my goodnatured folly, O:

But come what will, I've sworn it still, I'll ne'er be melancholy, O.

All

you who follow wealth and power with unremitting ardor, O,

The more in this you look for bliss, you leave your view the further, O: