There was comfort ever on your lip, - When your heart was sad and sore I'm biddin' you a long farewell, They say there's bread and work for all, And the sun shines always there But I'll not forget old Ireland, Were it fifty times as fair! And often in those grand old woods And I'll think I see the little stile Where we sat side by side, And the springin' corn, and the bright May morn When first you were my bride. LADY DUFFERIN. THE BRAES OF YARROW "BUSK ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride! Weep not, weep not, my bonnie, bonnie bride, Nor let thy heart lament to leave Pu'ing the birks on the braes of Yarrow." "Why does she weep, thy bonnie, bonnie bride ? Why does she weep, thy winsome marrow ? And why daur ye nae mair weel be seen Pu'ing the birks on the braes of Yarrow ?" "Lang maun she weep, lang maun she, maun she weepLang maun she weep wi' dule and sorrow; And lang maun I nae mair weel be seen Pu'ing the birks on the braes of Yarrow. "For she has tint her luver, luver dearHer luver dear, the cause of sorrow; And I hae slain the comeliest swain That e'er pu'd birks on the braes of Yarrow. Why rins thy stream, O Yarrow, Yarrow, reid ? Why on thy braes is heard the voice of sorrow? And why yon melancholious weeds Hung on the bonnie birks of Yarrow ? "What's yonder floats upo' the rueful, rueful flude? Upo' the dulefu' braes of Yarrow. ' Wash, oh, wash his wounds, his wounds in tears, His wounds in tears, wi' dule and sorrow; And wrap his limbs in mourning weeds, And lay him on the braes of Yarrow. "Then build, then build, ye sisters, ye sisters sad, Ye sisters sad, his tomb wi' sorrow; And weep around, in waeful wise, His hapless fate on the braes of Yarrow ! "Curse ye, curse ye, his useless, useless shield, "Did I not warn thee not to, not to luve, Too rashly bold, a stronger arm thou met'st, "Sweet smells the birk; green grows, green grows the Yellow on Yarrow's banks the gowan; Fair hangs the apple frae the rock; Sweet the wave of Yarrow flowin'! grass; "Flows Yarrow sweet? As sweet, as sweet flows Tweed; As green its grass; its gowan as yellow; As sweet smells on its braes the birk; "Fair was thy luve ! fair, fair indeed thy luve ! "Busk ye, then, busk, my bonnie, bonnie bride! "How can I busk a bonnie, bonnie bride ? "Oh Yarrow fields, may never, never rain, For there was basely slain my luve, My luve, as he had not been a luver. "The boy put on his robes, his robes of green, "The boy took out his milk-white, milk-white steed, Unmindful of my dule and sorrow; But ere the toofa' of the night, He lay a corpse on the braes of Yarrow ! "Much I rejoiced that waefu', waefu' day; I sang, my voice the woods returning; But lang ere night the spear was flown That slew my luve and left me mourning. "What can my barbarous, barbarous father do, But with his cruel rage pursue me? My luver's blood is on thy spear How canst thou, barbarous man, then woo me? "My happy sisters may be, may be proud; With cruel and ungentle scoffin' May bid me seek, on Yarrow's braes, My luver nailed in his coffin. "My brother Douglas may upbraid, upbraid, And strive with threatening words to muve me ; My luver's blood is on thy spear How canst thou ever bid me luve thee ? "Yes, yes, prepare the bed, the bed of luve ! With bridal sheets my body cover! Unbar, ye bridal-maids, the door! Let in the expected husband-lover! "But who the expected husband, husband is? Comes in his pale shroud, bleeding after ? And crown my rueful head with willow. "Pale though thou art, yet best, yet best beluved, Oh, could my warmth to life restore thee! Yet lie all night within my arms, No youth lay ever there before thee ! "Pale, pale indeed, O luvely, luvely youth! Forgive, forgive so foul a slaughter, And lie all night within my arms, No youth shall ever lie there after!" "Return, return, O mournful, mournful bride! Return, and dry thy useless sorrow! Thy luver heeds none of thy sighs; He lies a corpse on the braes of Yarrow." WILLIAM HAMILTON. SHE AND HE "SHE is dead!” they said to him. "Come away; Kiss her! and leave her! — thy love is clay!” They smoothed her tresses of dark brown hair ; Over her eyes, which gazed too much, up With a tender touch they closed well About her brows, and her dear, pale face, And drew on her white feet her white silk shoes; And over her bosom they crossed her hands; And then there was Silence; and nothing there And jasmine, and roses, and rosemary; And they held their breath as they left the room, But he who loved her too well to dread The sweet, the stately, the beautiful dead He lit his lamp, and took the key, And turn'd it! — Alone again - he and she! He and she; but she would not speak, Though he kiss'd, in the old place, the quiet cheek; He and she; yet she would not smile, Though he called her the name that was fondest erewhile. He and she; and she did not move To any one passionate whisper of love! Then he said, " Cold lips! and breast without breath! "See, now, I listen with soul, not ear "Was it the infinite wonder of all, "Or was it a greater marvel to feel "Was the miracle greatest to find how deep, "Oh, perfect Dead! oh, Dead, most dear, "" I listen as deep as to horrible hell, You should not ask vainly, with streaming eyes, |