POEMS.
ON A PORTRAIT OF THE BISHOP OF ST. ALBANS, TAKEN WITH HIS DOG SHEIRA.
IT is a faithful sketch!
Our Bishop sitting in his study chair
With the warm sunshine falling on his hair,
That "good gray head" on which the hand of Time
Hath woven gems of snow and hoary rime.
Beside his feet his favourite Sheira lies,
The collie reared 'neath Scotland's bonnie skies.
Our Bishop sitting in his study chair
With the warm sunshine falling on his hair,
That "good gray head" on which the hand of Time
Hath woven gems of snow and hoary rime.
Beside his feet his favourite Sheira lies,
The collie reared 'neath Scotland's bonnie skies.
The casement window full
Is open to the air, and flowers do show
A panoply of splendour down below,
While lulling sounds from flitting birds and bees
Make rapturous music falter through the trees.
All whisper peaceful dreams in Nature's lore
Unto the heart that loves her more and more.
Is open to the air, and flowers do show
A panoply of splendour down below,
While lulling sounds from flitting birds and bees
Make rapturous music falter through the trees.
All whisper peaceful dreams in Nature's lore
Unto the heart that loves her more and more.
A book is in his hand!
Perchance a volume classical and quaint,—
Perchance the life of martyr or of saint—
Perchance a volume classical and quaint,—
Perchance the life of martyr or of saint—
