"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

31 October 2021

Dreams.


OCTOBER

Come, dowie October, in mantle o' yellow,
Wi' the Hyp an' the Haw on thy fast-fading croon;

Come, soothe me a blink wi' thy speech sad and mellow,
As 'mang the brown Brackens I saf t' lay me doun!

0, lay on my lips frae the Simmer sun droothie
Ae blab o' the Bramble, November shall mar;

An' read me yer sermon sae saftly an' coothie,
While draps the last Row'n in the deep rocky scaur!

Thou tell'st me the friens that I loo'd in Life's Simmer,
Like thy chequered leaves frae my heart drap awa";

An' leave, o' the licht o' ilk face, but a glimmer,
Aboon the wild waste o' Death's drear driftin' snaw!

October, I lo'e thee ! Thy whisper is soothing;
There is Lore in thy face, there is wealth in thy
bowers:

Thy pensiveness adds but a charm to my musing
And sweet are my dreams through thy fast ebbing
hours!

James Rigg

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