Janet Hamilton Poems
The Fruits Of The Spirit
Spirit Divine! Eternal! Holy Dove!
These sacred fruits are thine,-peace, joy, and love,
Even peace with heaven, and peace on earth; a joy
Earth cannot give, nor, leagued with hell, destroy.
Love! 'tis the love thy presence sheds abroad
In hearts renew'd, the love supreme of God;
Long-suffering, when assailed by wrong or scorn;
Calm gentleness, though tried and spirit-worn;
, flowing from its source Divine;
And faith, that whispers, Saviour, Thou art mine!
Mild tranquil meekness, with her lowly grace;
And temperance, ruling measure, mood, ...
O, Bonnie Clyde! a shimmering gleam
Oot owre thy rippling bosom plays,
Whan frae the bricht blue sky o' June
The sun leuks doun on simmer days.
But ne'er did glancin' sunbeams glint,
An' owre thy dancin' waters play
Mair bricht, than whan to 'Bothwell Brig'