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Out spoke the hardy Highland wight:*
But for your winsome * lady :
"And, by my word, the bonny bird
So, though the waves are raging white,
By this the storm grew loud apace,
And in the scowl of heaven * each face
But still as wilder blew the wind,
"Oh! haste thee, haste !" the lady cries,
For sore dismayed* through storm and shade, 45
One lovely hand she stretched for aid,*
And one was round her lover.
"Come back! come back!" he cried in grief, "Across this stormy water;
And I'll forgive your Highland chief;
My daughter!-oh! my daughter!"
'Twas vain the loud waves lashed the shore, Return or aid preventing;
The waters wild went o'er his child,
And he was left lamenting.*
TO A FIELD MOUSE.-Burns.
ROBERT BURNS (1759-1796), the great lyric poet of Scotland, was the son of a small farmer in Ayrshire. He owed little or nothing to education, and, in his genius, followed the impulse of nature alone. Chief poems: Hallowe'en, The Cottar's Saturday Night, Tam o' Shanter, and a magnificent collection of songs.
WEE,* sleekit,* cow'rin',* tim'rous beastie,*
Wi' bickering brattle! *
I wad be laith* to rin and chase thee
I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor earth-born companion,
I doubt na, whyles,* but thou may thieve;
Wee, very little.
Beastie, little beast.
Laith, unwilling, loath.
Pattle, the stick used for clearing away the clodsfrom the plough
A daimen icker, &c., an ear of corn now and then from the bundle.
The lave, the rest,
Ensuin', coming on.
Cozie, comfortable, happy.
Stibble, stalks of corn
Dew, the moisture which falls upon the earth from the air, chiefly at night.
THE PET LAMB.-Wordsworth.
was falling fast, the stars began to
I heard a voice; it said "Drink, pretty creature,
And looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied
Nor sheep, nor kine* were near; the lamb was
And by a slender cord was tether'd* to a stone;
While to that mountain lamb she gave its even-
The lamb, while from her hand he thus his
Seem'd to feast with head and ears; and his tail
"Drink, pretty creature, drink!" she said in
such a tone
That I almost received her heart into my own.
'Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a child of
I watch'd them with delight, they were a lovely
Now with her empty can the maiden turn'd away; 15
Right towards the lamb she look'd; and from that shady
I unobserved could see the workings of her face;
20 Thus, thought I, to her lamb that little maid might sing: numbers,
"What ails thee, Young one? what? Why pull so at poetry.
Is it not well with thee? well both for bed and board?
"What is it thou would seek? What is wanting to thy
Thy limbs are they not strong? and beautiful thou art!
And that green corn all day is rustling in thy ears.
"If the sun be shining hot, do but stretch thy woollen
30 This beech is standing by, its covert thou canst gain; For rain and mountain-storms !-the like thou need'st ing; it could
The rain and storm are things that scarcely can come
66 Rest, little Young one, rest; thou hast forgot the day
And thy mother from thy side for evermore was gone.
"He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee
A blessed day for thee !-then whither wouldst thou
lie in the shade of the beech-tree.
A faithful nurse thou hast ; the dam * that did thee yean Dam, a 40 Upon the mountain-tops no kinder could have been.
"Thou know'st that twice a day I have brought thee in
female sheep having lambs.
Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever ran;
"Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they are now,
ten it to the cart like a horse, to har
ness it. Fold, an enclosed place for keeping sheep.
Belike, perhaps, probably.
Raven, a bird of
Hard by, close
at hand, near.
Damsel, a girl.
"It will not, will not rest!-Poor creature, can it be
Things that I know not of belike* to thee are dear,
"Alas, the mountain-tops that look so green and fair I've heard of fearful winds and darkness that come
The little brooks that seem all pastime and all play, 55
-As homeward through the lane I went with lazy
This song to myself did I oftentimes repeat;
Again, and once again, did I repeat the song;
For she look'd with such a look, and she spake with
That I almost received her heart into my own."
THERE is no flock, however watched and tended,*
But one dead lamb is there!
There is no fire-side, howso'er defended,*
The air is full of farewells to the dying,
The heart of Rachel * for her children crying,
Let us be patient! These severe afflictions
But oftentimes celestial* benedictions