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    Verses of Feeling and Fancy
    Verses of Feeling and Fancy
    Verses of Feeling and Fancy
    Ebook66 pages36 minutes

    Verses of Feeling and Fancy

    By W. M. (William Mackay) MacKeracher

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 26, 2013
    Verses of Feeling and Fancy

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      Book preview

      Verses of Feeling and Fancy - W. M. (William Mackay) MacKeracher

      Project Gutenberg's Verses of Feeling and Fancy, by Wm. M. MacKeracher

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: Verses of Feeling and Fancy

      Author: Wm. M. MacKeracher

      Release Date: September 9, 2011 [EBook #37367]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VERSES OF FEELING AND FANCY ***

      Produced by Al Haines

      VERSES

      OF

      FEELING AND FANCY

      BY

      Wm. M. MacKeracher

      MONTREAL:

      W. DRYSDALE & CO.,

      PUBLISHERS AND BOOKSELLERS.

      Entered according to Act of Parliament of Canada in the year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and ninety by Wm. Drysdale & Co., in the office of the Minister of Agriculture.

      DEDICATED

      TO

      MY FATHER.

      Motive

      Worthless, the man who works—he knows not why,

          Whom naught inspires to his puny plan,

      Who seeming plays his part instinctively:

          Soulless, and falsely designated man.

      Wicked, who works from wish of worldly gain,—

          His soul surrendered to th'accursèd lust

      Of pleasure partial, briefly to remain,

          Of treasure liable to moth and rust.

      Foolish and vain is he whose motive—fame,

          Ruled by desire of honor and renown;

      And fondly courting Fortune's fickle Dame,—

          To-day she smiles, to-morrow she will frown.

      But virtuous, noble, prompted from above,

          Preluding now the perfect life again,

      Is he, whose only inspiration, love,

          Love to his God and to his fellow-men.

      For love is naught but God's own nature, given,

          In partial measure, down to man to come;

      The sole delight of earth, the key to heaven;

          Of all the virtues, centre, source, and sum.

      The Old Year.

      The old year is dying,

      Its last hour is hieing

          Over the verge;

      The night winds are plying,

      And are mournfully sighing

          Its funeral dirge.

      And now, in its even,

      While its spirit is riven

          Through the bright zone,

      Beyond the heaven

      To whence it was given—

          To the unknown.

      Its sadness in ending

      Like a cloud is descending

          Over my soul,

      And the thoughts that are pending

      With the low winds are blending,

          Helping their dole.

      A year of existence

      Has passed to the distance

          Ne'er to return:

      To the right was resistance,

      From duty desistance,

          Nor would I learn.

      But duty neglected

      And virtue rejected

          We may amend;

      Then why be dejected?—

      So sorely affected?

          Whence does it tend?

      Is it that pleasure

      In liberal measure

          I have not known?

      Ah! rapturous pleasure

      In memory I treasure,

          But—it is flown.

      Opportunity wasted,

      Though far we have passed it,

          We may retrieve;

      But beakers once tasted

      Of bliss while they lasted

          Bitterness leave.

      A Summer Evening Scene in Chateauguay

      WRITTEN IN MONTREAL.

      Often, when the sun is sinking

          O'er the mountain's glowing crest,

      When the earth and heaven are linking

          In that bond of peaceful rest;

      Then, the weary city spurning,

          On this grand repose I gaze,

      And

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