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“O lullaby, my own deir child !
Lullaby, deir child, deir !
Thy mother laid on a bier !” “O, open the door, Burd Helen,” he says,
“0, open the door to me; Or, as my sword hangs by my gair,* I'll gar
She'll weep for naught for his dear sake; She clasps her sister in her sleep;
Her love in dreams is most awake. Her soul, that once with pleasure shook
Did any eyes her beauty own, Now wonders how they dare to look
On what belongs to him alone. The indignity of taking gifts
Exhilarates her loving breast;
Her life into celestial rest.
Back to the babe the woman dies ;
Is to love him for being wise. She's confident because she fears ;
And, though discreet when he's away, If none but her dear despot hears,
She'll prattle like a child at play. Perchance, when all her praise is said,
He tells the news, -- a battle won On either side ten thousand dead
Describing how the whole was done :
I am his joy ; whate'er I do,
In that, he'd have me always so !”
To the sweet folly of the dove She joins the cunning of the snake,
To rivet and exalt his love. Her mode of candor is deceit;
And what she thinks from what she 'll say, (Although I'll never call her cheat,)
Lies far as Scotland from Cathay. Without his knowledge he was won,
Against his nature kept devout ; She'll never tell him how 't was done,
And he will never find it out. If, sudden, he suspects her wiles,
And hears her forging chain and trap, And looks, - she sits in simple smiles,
Her two hands lying in her lap!
Whose fancy is of either sex)
Mysteries that light would more perplex.
in three !”
And I hope it's ne'er be mine; A knicht into her companie,
When she dries a' her pyne."
Sae did he wi' his knee;
In splinders he gart * flee.
“An askin', an askin', Lord John," she says,
“An askin' ye 'll grant me ; The meanest maid about your house,
To bring a drink to me.
An askin' ye 'll grant me ;
For thy young son and me!”
An' that and mair frae me ;
For my young son and thee.
Be of good cheer, I pray ;
Shall stand upon ae day.”
And he has ta'en her Burd Helen,
And rowed her in the silk;
And washed him in the milk.
And there was ne'er a gayer bridegroom,
Nor yet a blyther bride,
Neist day to kirk did ride.
BELIEVE ME, IF ALL THOSE ENDEARING If he's capricious, she 'll be so ;
BELIEVE me, if all those endearing young.charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Appears there naught for which to weep, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
Made or forced to. Like fairy-gifts fading away !
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou | The bride had consented, the gallant came late ;
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would entwine itself verdantly still.
So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall,
Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, It is not while beauty and youth are thine own, and all.
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear, Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his That the fervor and faith of a soul may be known, sword
To which time will but make thee more dear ! |(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a O the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
word), But as truly loves on to the close,
“O, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, As the sunflower turns to her god when he sets Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochin: The same look which she turned when he rose ! THOMAS MOORE ("Irish Melodies "). “I long wooed your daughter, my
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its WERE I AS BASE AS IS THE LOWLY
And now I am come, with this lost love of mine, WERE I as base as is the lowly plain,
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine, And you, my Love, as high as heaven above,
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, Yet should the thoughts of me your humble That would gladly be bride to the young Lochswain
in var." Ascend to heaven, in honor of my Love.
The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it
up, Were I as high as heaven above the plain,
He quaffed off the wine, and threw down the cup. And you, my Love, as humble and as low
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to As are the deepest bottoms of the main,
sigh, Whereso'er you were, with you my Love should
With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. go.
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could Were you the earth, dear Love, and I the skies, bar, My love should shine on you like to the sun, “Now tread we a measure," said young Lochinvar. And look upon you with ten thousand eyes Till heaven waxed blind, and till the world were So stately his form, and so lovely her face, done.
That never a hall such a galliard did grace ;
While her mother did fret, and her father did Whereso'er I am, below, or else above you,
fume, Whereso'er you are, my heart shall truly love you. And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet
and plume ; And the bridemaidens whispered, “'T were bet
ter by far LOCHINVAR.
To have matched our fair cousin with young
Lochinvar." O, YOUNG Lochinvar is coine out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the one touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
When they reached the hall-door, and the charger And, save his good broadsword, he weapon had
stood near ; none,
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. So light to the saddle before her he sprung; So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, 'She is won ! we are gone! over bank, bush, There never was knight like the young Lochin
and scaur ;
They 'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for
young Lochinvar. stone,
There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the NethHe swam the Eske River where ford there was erby clan ; none;
Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate,
and they ran ;
The maid and page renewed their strife ;
The palace banged, and buzzed and clackt; And all the long-pent stream of life
Dashed downward in a cataract.
And last of all the king awoke,
And in his chair himself upreared,
By holy rood, a royal beard !
My beard has grown into my lap."
'T was but an after-dinner's nap.
My joints are something stiff or so.
I mentioned half an hour ago ?" The chancellor, sedate and vain,
In courteous words returned reply; But dallied with his golden chain,
And, smiling, put the question by.
AND on her lover's arm she leant,
And round her waist she felt it fold ; And far across the hills they went
In that new world which is the old. Across the hills, and far away
Beyond their utmost purple rim, And deep into the dying day,
The happy princess followed him. “I'd sleep another hundred years,
O love, for such another kiss !" “O) wake forever, love,” she hears,
“O love, 't was such as this and this." And o'er them many a sliding star,
And many a merry wind was borne, And, streamed through many a golden bar,
The twilight melted into morn. "O eyes long laid in happy sleep!”
O happy sleep, that lightly fled !" “O happy kiss, that woke thy sleep!"
“O love, thy kiss would wake the dead!" And o'er them many a flowing range
Of vapor buoyed the crescent bark; And, rapt through many a rosy change,
The twilight died into the dark. “A hundred summers ! can it be?
And whither goest thou, tell me where ! “O, seek my father's court with me,
For there are greater wonders there."
There was racing and chasing or. Cannobie Lec,
SIR WALTER SCOTT.
THE SLEEPING BEAUTY.
THE DAY DREAM."
YEAR after year unto her feet,
She lying on her couch alone,
The maiden's jet-black hair has grown;
Forth streaming from a braid of pearl ;
And moves not on the rounded curl.
The silk star-broidered coverlid
Unto her limbs itself doth mould,
Her full black ringlets, downward rolled,
With bracelets of the diamond bright.
Stillness with love, and day with light.
She sleeps ; her breathings are not heard
In palace chambers far apart.
That lie upon her charméd heart.
The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest;
A perfect form in perfect rest.
THE REVIVAL OF THE “SLEEPING
THE DAY DREAM."
A TOUCH, a kiss! the charm was snapt.
There rose a noise of striking clocks ;
And barking dogs, and crowing cocks ;
A breeze through all the garden swept ;
And sixty feet the fountain leapt.
The hedge broke in, the banner blew,
The butler drank, the steward scrawled, The fire shot up, the martin flew,
The parrot screamed, the peacock squalled ;
They told her how, upon St. Agnes' Eve, St. AGNES' Eve, – ah, bitter chill it was
Young virgins might have visions of delight, The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold ;
And soft adorings from their loves receive The hare limped trembling through the frozen Upon the honeyed middle of the night, grass,
If ceremonies due they did aright; And silent was the flock in woolly fold :
As, supperless to bed they must retire, Numb were the beadman's fingers while he told And couch supine their beauties, lily white ; His rosary, and while his frosted breath,
Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require
Of heaven with upward eyes for all that they
Full of this whim was thoughtful Madeline ;
The music, yearning like a god in pain,
She scarcely heard ; her maiden eyes divine,
Pass by, — she heeded not at all ; in vain
Came many a tiptoe, amorous cavalier,
But she saw not ; her heart was otherwhere; Knights, ladies, praying in dumb orat’ries,
She sighed for Agnes' dreams, the sweetest of the He passed by ; and his weak spirit fails
year. To think how they may ache in icy hoods and mails.
She danced along with vague, regardless eyes,
Mid looks of love, defiance, hate, and scorn,
Save to St. Agnes and her lambs unshorn,
So, purposing each moment to retire,
She lingered still. Meantime, across the moors, And so it chanced, for many a door was wide,
Had come young Porphyro, with heart on fire From hurry to and fro. Soon, up aloft,
For Madeline. Beside the portal doors, The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide ;
Buttressed from moonlight, stands he, and im• The level chambers, ready with their pride,
plores Were glowing to receive a thousand guests ;
All saints to give him sight of Madeline ;
But for one moment in the tedious hours,
such things have been.
At length burst in the argent revelry,
He ventures in ; let no buzzed whisper tell ;
For him, those chambers held barbarian hordes, | Who keepeth closed a wondrous ridule-bouk, Hyena foemen, and hot-blooded lords,
As spectacled she sits in chimney nook. Whose very dogs would execrations howl But soon his eyes grew brilliant, when she told Against his lineage ; not one breast affords His lady's purpose ; and he scarce could brook Him any mercy, in that mansion foul,
Tears, at the thought of those enchantments cold, Save one old beldame, weak in body and in soul. And Madeline asleep in lap of legends old.
Ah, happy chance ! the aged creature came, Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose,
A stratagem, that makes the beldame start:
Thou canst not surely be the same that thou didst They are all here to-night, the whole bloodthirsty seem." race !
“I will not harm her, by all saints I swear!" “Get hence ! get hence ! there's dwarfish Hilde- Quoth Porphyro; “0, may I ne'er find grace brand;
When my weak voice shall whisper its last prayer, He had a fever late, and in the fit
If one of her soft ringlets I displace, He cursed thee and thine, both house and land ; Or look with ruffian passion in her face ; Then there 's that old Lord Maurice, not a whit Good Angela, believe me by these tears ; More tame for his gray hairs -- Alas me ! Ait! Or I will, even in a moment's uce, Flit like a ghost away!" “Ah, gossip dear, Awake, with horrid shout, my foemen's ears, We're safe enough ; here in this arm-chair sit, And beard them, though they be more fanged And tell me how “Good saints, not here, not
than wolves and bears."
Follow me, child, or else these stones will be thy
"Ah! why wilt thou affright a feeble soul?
"St. Agnes! Ah! it is St. Agnes' Eve, —
Which was, to lead him, in close secrecy,
“ It shall be as thou wishest," said the dame;