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Les diagrammes solvents illustrent la m6thode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 ,:€i ^V CAR'^OIANA LOGS' LAMENT. BURNS' HOME. ^ ^-M^^'^r jTsnii^. ■■' t V ■ ' ! / I - f!:,;Mr <- I ,,wg /t/^ .^ y c«^ ■I- ?." ' % t Zhc Xaincnt — of tbc — Xogs of tbc ©lb Ibouee. Our hearts are sad, and you will kindly with us bear ! Could you j^ive credence to what we will now relate ? Our owner, whom we know is considerate and gentle, Has made it known that we be razed to earthy To help to form a shelter for the sheep and kine. With our high aspirations, how can we this endure? And yet,— we think he half regrets The doom he has decreed us : His face looked grave. We half believe We saw a tear steal down his cheek As he walked slowly round and round To take a long last look. We're not mistaken ! No ; we heard him say, " Poor old house ! Poor old house ! " You've stood the battle and the breeze "Ot well nigh seventy years, of storm and ,jj:ale; 'You've served your day and generation well. "Within thy walls my eyes beheld "The first grey streak of morning light. "My infant and my childhood days "Were cared for by the best of mothers. " My mother dear ! We hope to meet thee "In a bright home of purest bliss." j And then he turned himself away. As if the emoiion were too strong. Do you yet remember, fellows. How we grew in pride and beauty. And the limpid waters of the brook Moistened our tiny rootlets. Round which the little speckled beauties flecked and darted ? We stood erect and stately, strong. Tall, and straight as arrows ; • We saw our graceful branches Reflected in its sparkling waters. And how the birds sang merrily Anionj^^ our whispering leaves ! The Red Man sought a refuge From the storm and gale And the sun's scorching rays, Beneath our sheltering shade. Fanned by the north wind's breeze, Our whispering leaves made music ; And the plaintive solo of the brook, Together with the warbling of the birds in spring, Made ever pleasant concert. Oft we've seen the Red Man list. Then join us in the wild, weird music of his race: We all were nature's children,— happy and free. We've seen the timid deer Approach by stealth, and drink, — Fit study for an artist. He could detect the lightest footfall Of the playful squirrel. Which he mistook for his arch-enemy, the Red Man, Then otT he'd bound, in graceful, peerless beauty, into the forest's deepest glades. Scrupulous exactness dictated our selection To form a dwellin.i,^ for a home for future s^en- erations; We were proud to be thus hi^i^hly honored ! Our hearts felt strangely sad For our less favored fellows We saw ascend in tluffy clouds. And end their days in nothingness. A busy time was that ! With axe and adze and square They measured, hewed and finished us, That we should stand erect and true, And be no object of reproach In this new neifj:hborhood. With pride the workmen view'd the finished house. Their long apprenticeship had fitted them To rear this, the first edifice, In perfectness becoming- this fair land. The neighbors came from far and near To celebrate the great event And join in the rejoicing. The night was spent in tales And songs of older lands And dear ones left behind, And tender whisperings, Which ripened into friendships Never, never more to die. Sweet music was discoursed, To which was "tripped the light, fantastic toe." The mirth and jollity went on. The hours tlew by on golden wings. Until the morning's rosy light Reminded them the time to part had come. But they were not to blame,— The tall and handsome clock That ticked for many years in George's reign. Upon her face there stood a goddess fair. Holding a scale of Justice in her hand. She yet, that night, refused to count the fleet- ing hours Beyond the first wee one of morn. That the Glen Asket went the round We never once denied; But that was neither here nor there. Of all the gatherings within our walls, This was the crowning one. Ah, well Jo we, remember When he brought his Marj^aret home : This was the proudest moment of his life. And well he might exu'.t ! A worthy woman she was, and proved A helpmeet in the truest sense. They took no costly wedding tour ; Like Ruth of old, she went Into the harvest reld next day. And they together raked uud bound The sheaves of golden grain. Ere many years a group of happy bairns Our walls did cheer with laughter. They were a boisterous lot ; But one stamp of their father's foot A temporary silence gained. Soon they forgot— the laugh would then be heard- Sometimes they disagreed,— To their discredit be it told, But we must tell the truth. To settle this, no methods new I I Or lengthy reasonings, In shorter time than we can tell Justice was meted out— But how you need not ask. Alas ! there fell upon that happy home A dark and gloomy shadow. Death, with his cold and icy hand, Snatched ruthlessly the little household pet— A cherub hoy, with bright, blue eye, A gift of radiant June. .His stay was short; just long enough To twine around the family hearts The little tendrils of his winning ways. Then leave them sad and desolate. in low and plaintive tones His name was always whispered, as, "The little boy that died," Which wrung the salt tear from its briny bed. Nature's sad tribute to the loved and lost. We wondered such a little one Should wield such influence And cast a gloom and sadness over all. But Time- grief's healer— wipes away all tears. That mother was a noble woman (A Graham, but not of Claverhouse), And ne'er complained because of irksome duties. Principle and right her motto was, From which she never swerved. To orphan boys a friend in need ; The beggar from her door unfed she never turned. Oft we've heard her make remark, "They maun be some bit A've bairns o' ma ain." it was not hers to know not life's stern duties. We've seen her sore perplexed in various ways, With things that will go wrong In spite of the best care. She ne'er complained to strangers Their sympathy to enlist, But did her best; And when affliction crossed her door, And sickness hard upon her husband fell, She never saw "the lion in the way", With her the evil was sufficient for the day. >' When tired and weary with their toils, God's heralds of the truth a refuge found, A home, a welcome, and a rest. That cheered, refreshed, and fitted them To face their pressing duties. Ours was a cozy little parlor, With cheerful, blazing fire upon the hearth, Where all a royal welcome knew. There we've heard grave themes discussed, By men of able minds, whose arguments were weighty. Disraeli's zeal for Britain's weal Received our owner's praises ; But " Home Rule " for the Land of Green He ne'er could give his yea ; Oft we've heard him make remark, " Erin will have a sorry day When Gladstone 'Home Rule' gives her." A Scotchman to the core was he, A loyal son of Britain. He never lauded to the skies Another nation's government; He was justly proud of Britain's Queen, And Britain's rule likewise. The mountains in his own beloved land were bluest, And murmurin^i,^ streams the sweetest ; And Canada, the dearest and best land in his affections. On the evening of the hallowed day. He called his children round, - Each with the sacred volume, Reading in turn a verse therefrom. We've heard him read Isaiah's lofty strains In tones that thrilled our very being. As June comes round we then recall The first fair bridal day. Great was the preparation ! We were almost immaculate ; And tins, whose brilliancy cast silver in the shade, Were carefully arranged along our lines. No costly palms or orchids graced the scene. But green and wholesome cedar from the nearest swamp The decoration finished. Other bridals followed this : One, then another, left their old rooftree. ! . 'Twas right and proper ; still, the blank was felt. In time, the little grandchildren Came tripping round their grandma's knee. She seldom chided them for youthful imperfec- tions, But gave them all a welcome sweet : "The bonnie, bonnie bairns." In time a change came o'er the scene. Beyond the master of the house Was called unto a better home. We well remember as he lay On his last couch, in cold and silent death, Authority and dignity upon his face remained, As like an able general, who ne'er commanded But to be obeyed. Our walls had echoed back That awful cough, for years a score. We scarce the silence could endure. It was oppressive as the grave. Soon another change came o'er. ' It was considered wise and best, That she who bore the burden of the day Was soon to have a better home Than we could now afford. At thought of losing her our hearts were sad ; We did not like to contemplate Another home that honest step would hear, And share that patient smile. ■ She quite enjoyed the comfort And the well-earned rest Her new home blessed her with. A quiet, simple fireside, of peace and sweet content, Where all her friends a hearty welcome knew. Her old home she did not forget, And lingering visits paid us ; WeVe seen the teardrop glisten in her eye. As tender recollections crowded fast. In time her new home our experience knew: In sad procession was she borne To her long home by stalwart sons, Loved and respected by her own ; Her real worth none knew as did they. Her life's eve was so calm and peaceful, Her sunset sky had scarce a cloud. Her youngest bom :— O, how he idohzed his mother I He's g-one to foreign hinds, we hear, hi search of wealth and fame. May God watch o'er him in his journeyings. Once more the children's laugh Resounded in our halls ; They romped, and played, and disagreed. Much like the former ones. In lonely silence we for years have stood. A word we have not heard discussed About the doings of the world; Whether Sir John still holds the helm Ot this advancing nation ; Or if the good old Queen still reigns, Or Britain has become republic,— A day our builder hoped would never come. Can you wonder we are sad ? Our feelings have been wounded, And wounded pride is hard to bear. A hope we'd cherished earnestly : — That this, tor antiquarians, a resort niijjht be. Who would compare the present with the past, The advances of the age discuss. The rise and fall of nations ; When right would triumph over wrong, A time we've long looked forward to, Our name would then be handed down - An honor we have richly earned. We've waited patiently and long. Desiring with an earnestness Our fondest day dream soon would come. Empires rise and fall we know. And crumble into ruin and decay, — But what is that to us? And must our high and lofty aspirations With one fell stroke be dashed to earth ? Must we submit to this indignity? We must. But we will ne'er be reconciled. Dorset jfarm, September 5tb, 1898. UQWce Spencer.