Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable longings, oak-trees, Passed she along the path to the edge of the measureless prairie. Silent it lay, with a silvery haze upon it, and fire-flies Gleaming and floating away in mingled and infinite numbers. Over her head the stars, the thoughts of God in the heavens, Shone on the eyes of man, who had ceased to marvel and worship, Save when a blazing comet was seen on the walls of that temple, As if a hand had appeared and written upon them, "Uphar sin." And the soul of the maiden, between the stars and the fire flies, Wandered alone, and she cried, "O Gabriel! O my beloved! Art thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold thee? Art thou so near unto me, and yet thy voice does not reach me? Ah! how often thy feet have trod this path to the prairie! Ah! how often thine eyes have looked on the woodlands around me! Ah! how often beneath this oak, returning from labor, Thou hast lain down to rest, and to dream of me in thy slumbers! When shall these eyes behold, these arms be folded about thee? Loud and sudden and near the note of a whippoorwill sounded Like a flute in the woods; and anon, through the neighboring thickets, Farther and farther away it floated and dropped into silence. "Patience!" whispered the oaks from oracular caverns of darkness; And, from the moonlit meadow, a sigh responded, "To-mor row!" Longfellow: Evangeline. 18. 1 Gold. What though on hamely fare we dine, Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine For a' that, an' a' that, Their tinsel show, an' a' that, A prince can mak a belted knight, For a' that, an' a' that, Their dignities, an' a' that, The pith o' sense an' pride o' worth 2 Coarse gray woolen. 8 A conceited fellow. 4 A dullard. 5 "The power of making an honest man, as a belted knight is made, is a power no king can be allowed to claim." 19. Then let us pray that come it may (As come it will for a' that) That sense and worth o'er a' the earth It's comin' yet for a' that, Burns: For A' That and A' That. Not with bleeding hands and feet, In an attitude imploring, Lord, he thought, in heaven that reignest, Who am I, that thus Thou deignest To reveal Thyself to me? Who am I, that from the centre Then amid his exaltation, Of divinest self-surrender, Saw the Vision and the Splendor. Deep distress and hesitation Should he go or should he stay? Straightway to his feet he started, At the gate the poor were waiting, Who amid their wants and woes Seemed to them the bread and wine. |