16
life's reverses.
Tell the girl she must just step out some other day
When ma's more at leisure, and guests gone away;"
An' liftin' the buik, she continued, "What fash
Those poor people give for a trifle of cash!"
But wha caucht her last words she wasna aware;
She fancied the valet aye sauntering there,
An' looked up wi' a frown, which the same moment iled,
An' a smile bricht as mornin' appeared in its stead;
But the answerin' beam in the een didna shine
O' the squire, wha's grave glances she couldna define.
A true son o genius in talent and heart
Was he, his saul's poetry a' in his airt.
A scene a' but leevin' on canvass he'd spread—
The Mount, the sad Cross, and immaculate dead;
There grouped the disciples the Saviour around,
There stood the three Mary's in anguish profound.
A sad upturned visage he saught to invest
Wi' a sorrow mair holy, mair deep than the rest:
"To my virgin mair angelic sadness maun fa,"
Mutter'd he as he carelessly passed through the ha',
When the young face o' Jessie, wha's features sae pure,
Bore the impress o' a' she was doomed to endure,
Caught his e'e, an' rivetted his feet to the flair.
The mournfu' Madona a' perfect was there,
The hair shading' saftly the sorrowfu' broo,
The een raised sae anxious, the sma' chisel'd mou'—
Aye could he hae glowered, but rememb'rin' 'twas rude,
His way up the stair he fu' thoughtfu' pursued.
When ma's more at leisure, and guests gone away;"
An' liftin' the buik, she continued, "What fash
Those poor people give for a trifle of cash!"
But wha caucht her last words she wasna aware;
She fancied the valet aye sauntering there,
An' looked up wi' a frown, which the same moment iled,
An' a smile bricht as mornin' appeared in its stead;
But the answerin' beam in the een didna shine
O' the squire, wha's grave glances she couldna define.
A true son o genius in talent and heart
Was he, his saul's poetry a' in his airt.
A scene a' but leevin' on canvass he'd spread—
The Mount, the sad Cross, and immaculate dead;
There grouped the disciples the Saviour around,
There stood the three Mary's in anguish profound.
A sad upturned visage he saught to invest
Wi' a sorrow mair holy, mair deep than the rest:
"To my virgin mair angelic sadness maun fa,"
Mutter'd he as he carelessly passed through the ha',
When the young face o' Jessie, wha's features sae pure,
Bore the impress o' a' she was doomed to endure,
Caught his e'e, an' rivetted his feet to the flair.
The mournfu' Madona a' perfect was there,
The hair shading' saftly the sorrowfu' broo,
The een raised sae anxious, the sma' chisel'd mou'—
Aye could he hae glowered, but rememb'rin' 'twas rude,
His way up the stair he fu' thoughtfu' pursued.
