Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WORDS O' CHEER, by ELIZABETH DOTEN



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

WORDS O' CHEER, by                    
First Line: Although not present to your sight
Last Line: Of heaven on ony.
Alternate Author Name(s): Doten, Lizzie
Subject(s): Language; Speeches & Addresses; Words; Vocabulary


GUID FRIENDS:

ALTHOUGH not present to your sight,
I gie ye greeting here to-night;
Not claiming to be perfect quite,
Frae taint o' passion,
Yet will I hauld my speech aright,
In guid Scotch fashion.

O, could some cantie word o' mine,
But make your careworn faces shine,
Or cause the hearts in grief that pine,
To throb with pleasure,
Then wad my cup to auld lang syne,
Fill to its measure.

The gracious powers above us, know
How sair a weight of want and woe
Must be the lot of those who go
Through Earth to Heaven;
But aye, the life aboon will show
Wherefore 'twas given.

And that guid God who loves us a',
Who sees the chittering sparrow fa',
Will never turn his face awa',
Though you should stray;
But all his wandering sheep will ca'
Back to the way.

So muckle are the cares o' men,
That Truth at times is hard to ken,
And Error, to her grousome den,
So dark and eerie,
Wiles those who have na heart to men';
Puir wanderers weary.

Alack! how mony a luckless wight
Has gane agley in Error's night,
Not that he had less love for right
Than countless ithers;
But that he lacked the keener sight
Of his guid brithers.

Lo! Calvin, Knox, and Luther, cry
"I have the Truth"—"and I"—"and I."—
"Puir sinners! if ye gang agley,
The de'il will hae ye,
And then the Lord will stand abeigh,
'And will na save ye."

But hoolie hoolie! Na sae fast;
When Gabriél shall blaw his blast,
And Heaven and Earth awa' have passed,
These lang syne saints,
Shall find baith de'il and hell at last,
Mere pious feints.

The upright, honest-hearted man,
Who strives to do the best he can,
Need never fear the Church's ban,
Or hell's damnation;
For God will need na special plan
For his salvation.

The one who knows our deepest needs,
Recks little how man counts his beads,
For Righteousness is not in creeds,
Or solemn faces;
But rather lies in kindly deeds,
And Christian graces,

Then never fear; wi' purpose leal,
A head to think, a heart to feel
For human woe and human weal,
Na preachin' loun
Your sacred birthright e'er can steal
To Heaven aboon.

Tak' tent o' truth, and heed this well:
The man who sins makes his ain hell;
There's na waurse de'il than himsel';
But God is strongest:
And when puir human hearts rebel,
He haulds out longest.

With loving kindness will he wait,
Till all the prodigals o' fate
Return unto their fair estate,
And blessings mony;
Nor will he shut the gowden gate
Of Heaven on ony.





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