She holds her little thoughts in sight, Though gay they run and leap.
She is so circumspect and right; She has her soul to keep.
She walks--the lady of my delight-- A shepherdess of sheep.
Dora Sigerson. d. 1918
881. Ireland
'TWAS the dream of a God, And the mould of His hand, That you shook 'neath His stroke, That you trembled and broke To this beautiful land.
Here He loosed from His hold A brown tumult of wings, Till the wind on the sea Bore the strange melody Of an island that sings.
He made you all fair, You in purple and gold, You in silver and green, Till no eye that has seen Without love can behold.
I have left you behind In the path of the past, With the white breath of flowers, With the best of God's hours, I have left you at last.
Margaret L. Woods. b. 1856
882. Genius Loci
PEACE, Shepherd, peace! What boots it singing on?
Since long ago grace-giving Phoebus died, And all the train that loved the stream-bright side Of the poetic mount with him are gone Beyond the shores of Styx and Acheron, In unexplored realms of night to hide.
The clouds that strew their shadows far and wide Are all of Heaven that visits Helicon.
Yet here, where never muse or god did haunt, Still may some nameless power of Nature stray, Pleased with the reedy stream's continual chant And purple pomp of these broad fields in May.
The shepherds meet him where he herds the kine, And careless pass him by whose is the gift divine.
Anonymous. c. 19th Cent.
883. Dominus Illuminatio Mea
IN the hour of death, after this life's whim, When the heart beats low, and the eyes grow dim, And pain has exhausted every limb-- The lover of the Lord shall trust in Him.
When the will has forgotten the lifelong aim, And the mind can only disgrace its fame, And a man is uncertain of his own name-- The power of the Lord shall fill this frame.
When the last sigh is heaved, and the last tear shed, And the coffin is waiting beside the bed, And the widow and child forsake the dead-- The angel of the Lord shall lift this head.
For even the purest delight may pall, And power must fail, and the pride must fall, And the love of the dearest friends grow small-- But the glory of the Lord is all in all.