Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/812

 THOMAS HOOD

Cold inhumanity, Burning insanity,

Into her rest. Cross her hands humbly As if praying dumbly,

Over her breast'

Owning her weakness, Her evil behaviour,

And leaving, with meekness, Her sins to her Saviour'

��ANONYMOUS

663 The Canadian Boat Song

E1TEN to me, as when ye heard our father Sing long ago the song of other shores Listen to me, and then in chorus gather All your deep voices as ye pull your oars:

Fair these broad meads these hoary woods are grand; But we are exiles from our fathers' land.

From the lone shieling of the misty island Mountains divide us, and the waste of seas

Yet still the blood is strong, the heart is Highland, And we in dreams behold the Hebrides; Fair these broad meads, &c.

We ne'er shall tread the fancy-haunted valley,

Where 'tween the dark hills creeps the small clear stream,

In arms around the patriarch banner rally, Nor see the moon on royal tombstones gleam: Fair these broad meads, &c.

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