POETRY.

Western Star, Issue 282, 1 February 1879, Page 7

POETRY.

THE INGLE SIDE. It’s rare to see the morning breeze, Like a bonfire free the sea ; It’s fair to see the bumie kiss The lip o’ the flowery lea ; An’ fine it is on green hill side, Where hums the hinny be ; But rarer, fairer, finer, fair, Is the ingle side to me. Glens may be gilt wi’ gowans rare, The birds may fill the tree, An’ haughs hae a* the scented ware, That simmer’s growth can gi'e ; But the cantie hearth where cronies meet, An’ the darling o’ our e’e ; That makes us to a warld complete, O, the ingle side’s for me ! Hew Ainslxe. THE YOICE FEOM ABOVE. * Imprisoned in this “darksome house of clay,” We blindly feel around its mortal walls, Seeaking some sign, some proof, that this to-day May yet expand to everlasting halls. Then, if from unseen heights of blue above, Descends the ringing warble of a bird Telling of life and sunshine, joy and love, Oh ! with what rapture is that music heard! Such is the hope of immortality ; It sings unto the captive soul of man Message from azure realms he cannot see, Of sunny life beyond this clouded span. It brings.no witness to Lis narrow roof, No angel strikes (he iron-guarded portal. Itself the sign from heaven, itself the proof. The hostage and the bond of life immortal. Austbal.