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The Cottage Homes of Scotland

(a.k.a. William Quarrier's, Bridge of Weir, Renfrewshire)
If anyone has any information about the author or the origins of this poem, please contact us with details.
Anonymous

Those Homes of love and mercy stand
Beside the crystal Gryffe,
A fairer sight ne'er met the eyes
Of mother, maid or wife;

Yes, "Blessed are the merciful."
For they shall mercy find;
Who in the race for such a prize
Would seek to lag behind?

Waifs plucked from misery and sin,
Whose depths no tongue can tell,
Here, 'neath the sheltering wings of love,
In peace and safety dwell.

Oh, God of love! Thy blessing shower
Upon this rescued band;
And grant that they may yet become
The glory of our land.

Through Duchal's ancient woods resound
The songs of summer birds
That thrill the soul; but sweeter far
Those little prattlers' words.

The blackbirds' and the linnets' song
Pass with the summer days,
But those sweet birds who nestle here,
Shall sing immortal lays.

Retouch Thy servants' hearts, we pray,
With the altar's living coal,
To love, and trust, and serve Thee more,
While endless cycles roll;

And give them strength to sow and reap
Beneath the burning sun,
Till Thou shalt say, "'Tis eve - come home;
Well done, my child! Well done!"


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