Poems (Argent)/On a Portrait of the Bishop of St. Albans, taken with his Dog "Sheira"
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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—
Howe'er it be, the page is opened wide
In the firm grasp that holds it either side.
A mirthful twinkle round the scholar's lips
Steals yet a march on age and time's eclipse
Perchance a volume classical and quaint,—
Perchance the life of martyr or of saint—
Howe'er it be, the page is opened wide
In the firm grasp that holds it either side.
A mirthful twinkle round the scholar's lips
Steals yet a march on age and time's eclipse
Dear venerable form,
And "good gray head"! long may'st thou live to bless
All such as cling to thee in tenderness,
Thine own who hold thee dearest here below,
Whose lives have mixed with thine in joy and woe.
Truly a shepherd of Christ's flock art thou
Whose seal Divine is graven on thy brow!
And "good gray head"! long may'st thou live to bless
All such as cling to thee in tenderness,
Thine own who hold thee dearest here below,
Whose lives have mixed with thine in joy and woe.
Truly a shepherd of Christ's flock art thou
Whose seal Divine is graven on thy brow!