WEEPING.

Beyond the smiling and the weeping
I shall be soon;
Beyond the waking and the sleeping,
Beyond the sowing and the reaping,
I shall be soon.
_Love, rest, and home!
Sweet hope!
Lord, tarry not, but come._

Beyond the blooming and the fading
I shall be soon;
Beyond the shining and the shading,
Beyond the hoping and the dreading,
I shall be soon.
_Love, rest, and home!_ etc.

Beyond the rising and the setting
I shall be soon;
Beyond the calming and the fretting,
Beyond remembering and forgetting,
I shall be soon.
_Love, rest, and home!_ etc.

Beyond the gathering and the strowing
I shall be soon;
Beyond the ebbing and the flowing.
Beyond the coming and the going,
I shall be soon.
_Love, rest, and home!_ etc.

Beyond the parting and the meeting
I shall be soon;
Beyond the farewell and the greeting,
Beyond this pulse's fever beating,
I shall be soon.
_Love, rest, and home!_ etc.

Beyond the frost chain and the fever
I shall be soon;
Beyond the rock waste and the river,
Beyond the ever and the never,
I shall be soon.
_Love, rest, and home!
Sweet hope!
Lord, tarry not, but come._

HORATIUS BONAR.

THE LAND O' THE LEAL.

I'm wearing awa', Jean,
Like snaw when it's thaw, Jean;
I'm wearing awa',
To the land o' the leal.
There's nae sorrow there, Jean,
There's neither cauld nor care, Jean,
The day is aye fair
In the land o' the leal.

Ye were aye leal and true, Jean;
Your task's ended noo, Jean,
And I'll welcome you
To the land o' the leal.
Our bonnie bairn 's there, Jean,
She was baith guid and fair, Jean:
O, we grudged her right sair
To the land o' the leal!

Then dry that tearfu' ee, Jean,
My soul langs to be free, Jean,
And angels wait on me
To the land o' the leal!
Now fare ye weel, my ain Jean,
This warld's care is vain, Jean;
We'll meet and aye be fain
In the land o' the leal.

CAROLINA, BARONESS NAIRNE.

ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.

"I am dying, Egypt, dying."--SHAKESPEARE'S
_Antony and Cleopatra_, Act iv. Sc. 13.

I am dying, Egypt, dying.
Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast,
And the dark Plutonian shadows
Gather on the evening blast;
Let thine arms, O Queen, enfold me,
Hush thy sobs and bow thine ear;
Listen to the great heart-secrets,
Thou, and thou alone, must hear.

Though my scarred and veteran legions
Bear their eagles