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WHEN THE KYE COME HAME.

My heartstrings round thee cling,
Close as thy bark, old friend!
Here shall the wild bird sing,
And still thy branches bend.
Old tree, the storm still brave;
And, woodman, leave the spot :
While I've a hand to save,

Thine axe shall harm it not.

GEORGE P. MORRIS.

WHEN THE KYE COME HAME.

COME all ye jolly shepherds,

That whistle through the glen!

I'll tell ye o' a secret

That courtiers dinna ken:

What is the greatest bliss

That the tongue o' man can name?

'Tis to woo a bonnie lassie

When the kye come hame.

When the kye come hame,
When the kye come hame:
'Tween the gloamin' an' the mirk,
When the kye come hame.

'Tis not beneath the burgonet,

Nor yet beneath the crown; "Tis not on couch o' velvet,

Nor yet in bed o' down:

WHEN THE KYE COME HAME.

'Tis beneath the spreading birk, In the glen without the name, Wi' a bonnie bonnie lassie,

When the kye come hame.

There the blackbird bigs his nest,
For the mate he lo'es to see,
And on the tapmost bough
O, a happy bird is he!
There he pours his melting ditty,
And love is a' the theme;
And he'll woo his bonnie lassie,
When the kye come hame.

When the blewart bears a pearl,
And the daisy turns a pea,
And the bonnie lucken gowan
Has fauldit up his ee,

Then the lavrock, frae the blue lift,

Draps down and thinks nae shame

To woo his bonnie lassie,

When the kye come hame.

See yonder pawky shepherd,

That lingers on the hill: His yowes are in the fauld,

And his lambs are lying still;

Yet he downa gang to bed,

For his heart is in a flame,

To meet his bonnie lassie

When the kye come hame.

WHEN THE KYE COME HAME.

When the little wee bit heart

Rises high in the breast, And the little wee bit starn Rises red in the east,

O there's a joy sae dear

That the heart can hardly frame,

Wi' a bonnie bonnie lassie,

When the kye come hame.

Then since all Nature joins
In this love without alloy,
O! wha wad prove a traitor
To Nature's dearest joy?
Or wha wad choose a crown,
Wi' its perils an' its fame,
And miss his bonnie lassie,
When the kye come hame,

When the kye come hame:

When the kye come hame:

'Tween the gloamin' an' the mirk,
When the kye come hame.

JAMES HOGG.

THE KING OF DENMARK'S RIDE.

WORD was brought to the Danish king,

(Hurry!)

That the love of his heart lay suffering,

And pined for the comfort his voice would bring; (O! ride as though you were flying!)

Better he loves each golden curl

On the brow of that Scandinavian girl
Than his rich crown-jewels of ruby and pearl;

And his Rose of the Isles is dying.

Thirty nobles saddled with speed;

(Hurry!)

Each one mounted a gallant steed

Which he kept for battle and days of need;
(O! ride as though you were flying!)
Spurs were struck in the foaming flank;
Worn-out chargers staggered and sank;
Bridles were slackened, and girths were burst:
But ride as they would, the king rode first;
For his Rose of the Isles lay dying.

His nobles are beaten, one by one;

(Hurry!)

They have fainted, and faltered, and homeward gone;

THE KING OF DENMARK'S RIDE.

His little fair page now follows alone,
For strength and for courage trying.
The king looked back at that faithful child:
Wan was the face that answering smiled.
They passed the drawbridge with clattering din :
Then he dropped; and only the king rode in
Where his Rose of the Isles lay dying.

The king blew a blast on his bugle horn; (Silence!)

No answer came, but faint and forlorn

An echo returned on the cold gray morn,

Like the breath of a spirit sighing.

The castle portal stood grimly wide;

None welcomed the king from that weary ride;
For, dead in the light of the dawning day,

The pale sweet form of the welcomer lay,
Who had yearned for his voice while dying.

The panting steed with a drooping crest

Stood weary.

The king returned from her chamber of rest,

The thick sobs choking in his breast;

And, that dumb companion eyeing,

The tears gushed forth, which he strove to check ;

He bowed his head on his charger's neck: "O, steed, that every nerve didst strain,

Dear steed, our ride hath been in vain,

To the halls where my love lay dying!"

CAROLINE ELIZABETH NOrton.

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