Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we'll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo.

ROBERT BURNS

CRAIGIE-BURN WOOD

WEET fa's the eve on Craigie-burn,
And blythe awakes the morrow;

But a' the pride o' spring's return
Can yield me nocht but sorrow.

I see the flowers and spreading trees,
I hear the wild birds singing;
But what a weary wight can please,
And care his bosom wringing?

Fain, fain would I my griefs impart,
Yet darena for your anger;
But secret love will break my heart,
If I conceal it langer.

If thou refuse to pity me,

If thou shalt love anither,

When yon green leaves fa' frae the tree,

Around my grave they'll wither.

ROBERT BURNS

ΙΟ

TO THE WOODLARK

STAY, sweet warbling woodlark, stay, Nor quit for me the trembling spray : A hapless lover courts thy lay,

Thy soothing, fond complaining.

Again, again that tender part,
That I may catch thy melting art!
For surely that wad touch her heart
Wha kills me wi' disdaining.

Say, was thy little mate unkind,
And heard thee as the careless wind?
Oh, nocht but love and sorrow joined,
Sic notes o' wae could wauken.

Thou tells o' never-ending care,
O' speechless grief and dark despair;
For pity's sake, sweet bird, nae mair!
Or my poor heart is broken.

ROBERT BURNS

NON SUM QUALIS ERAM

WHE

THEN I think on the happy days
I spent wi' you, my dearie;

And now what lands between us lie,
How can I be but eerie !

How slow ye move, ye heavy hours,

As ye were wae and weary!

It was na sae ye glinted by
When I was wi' my dearie.

ANON ANON

ANON.

SHE

LUCY

HE dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,

A maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:

A violet by a mossy stone
Half-hidden from the eye!
Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know

When Lucy ceased to be;

But she is in her grave and, Oh!

The difference to me!

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

HE was a Phantom of delight

SHE

When first she gleamed upon my sight;

A lovely Apparition, sent

To be a moment's ornament;

Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair,

Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful Dawn ;
A dancing Shape, an Image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.

I saw her upon nearer view,
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin-liberty;

A Countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A Creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.

;

And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine;
A Being breathing thoughtful breath,
A traveller between life and death
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect Woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright,
With something of angelic light.1

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

THREE YEARS SHE GREW

THREE years she grew in sun and shower ;

Then Nature said, “A lovelier flower

On earth was never sown :

This Child I to myself will take;
She shall be mine, and I will make
A lady of my own.

"Myself will to my darling be
Both law and impulse: and with me
The girl, in rock and plain,

In earth and heaven, in glade and bower,
Shall feel an overseeing power

To kindle or restrain.

"She shall be sportive as the fawn
That wild with glee across the lawn
Or up the mountain springs;

And her's shall be the breathing balm,
And her's the silence and the calm

Of mute insensate things.

1 Wordsworth's note to this poem was "it was written from my heart, as is sufficiently obvious".

"The floating clouds their state shall lend
To her; for her the willow bend;
Nor shall she fail to see

Even in the motions of the storm

Grace that shall mould the maiden's form
By silent sympathy.

"The stars of midnight shall be dear
To her ; and she shall lean her ear
In many a secret place
Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
And beauty born of murmuring sound
Shall pass into her face.

"And vital feelings of delight

Shall rear her form to stately height,
Her virgin bosom swell;
Such thoughts to Lucy I will give
While she and I together live
Here in this happy dell."

Thus Nature spake.-The work was done-
How soon my Lucy's race was run!

She died, and left to me

This heath, this calm and quiet scene;
The memory of what has been,

And never more will be.

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

I TRAVELLED AMONG UNKNOWN MEN

I

TRAVELL'D among unknown men
In lands beyond the sea;

Nor, England! did I know till then

What love I bore to thee.