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CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF 'CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE,' 'CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE,' &c.
| No. 453. New Series. | SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 1852. | Price 1½d. |
A WEE BIT NAME.
Shepherd loquitur.—An' a wee bit name—canna it carry a weight o' love?—Noctes Ambrosianæ, No. lxxii.
A wee bit name! O wae's the heart
When nought but that is left,
But doubly dear it comes to be
When time a' else hath reft,
An' youth, an' hope, an' innocence,
An' happiness, an' hame,
Are a' concentred in a word,
That word—a wee bit name.
When nought but that is left,
But doubly dear it comes to be
When time a' else hath reft,
An' youth, an' hope, an' innocence,
An' happiness, an' hame,
Are a' concentred in a word,
That word—a wee bit name.
Back through the weary waste o' years
My memory is borne,
An' gurglin' streams, an' thickets green,
An' fields o' yellow corn:
An' lanely glens, an' sunny hills
Upon my spirit gleam,
The phantoms o' the past before
That spell—a wee bit name.
My memory is borne,
An' gurglin' streams, an' thickets green,
An' fields o' yellow corn:
An' lanely glens, an' sunny hills
Upon my spirit gleam,
The phantoms o' the past before
That spell—a wee bit name.
O vision sweet! a fair, fair face,
A young, but thochtfu' brow,
Twa gentle een o' azure sheen,
Are beamin' on me noo.
Be still, my beatin' heart—be still;
It's but an idle dream:
She heeds na though wi' tremblin' joy
I breathe a wee bit name.
A young, but thochtfu' brow,
Twa gentle een o' azure sheen,
Are beamin' on me noo.
Be still, my beatin' heart—be still;
It's but an idle dream:
She heeds na though wi' tremblin' joy
I breathe a wee bit name.
A wee bit name! O lives there ane
That never, never felt
Its pathos an' its wizard power
To saften and to melt?
No—callous though the bosom be
Wi' years o' sin an' shame,
'Twill melt like snaw in summer's sun
Before some wee bit name.
That never, never felt
Its pathos an' its wizard power
To saften and to melt?
No—callous though the bosom be
Wi' years o' sin an' shame,
'Twill melt like snaw in summer's sun
Before some wee bit name.
A wee bit name! the rod whose touch
Bids hidden waters start,
The torch that lichts the pile upon
The altar o' the heart,
An' kindles what wad else decay,
Into a holy flame:
A sacred influence may lie
Within a wee bit name!
C.
Bids hidden waters start,
The torch that lichts the pile upon
The altar o' the heart,
An' kindles what wad else decay,
Into a holy flame:
A sacred influence may lie
Within a wee bit name!
C.