THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS. She struck where the white and fleecy waves But the cruel rocks, they gored her side Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, To see the form of a maiden fair, The salt sea was frozen on her breast, And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woe! HENRY WADSWORTH Longfellow. THOU HAST SWORN BY THY GOD, MY JEANIE. THOU hast sworn by thy God, my Jeanie, And I hae sworn by my God, my Jeanie, Then foul fa' the hands that wad loose sic bands, Though the wee, wee cot maun be my bield, I wad lap me up rich, i' the faulds o' luve, Her white arm wad be a pillow for me, And Luve wad winnow owre us his kind, kind wings, Come here to me, thou lass o' my luve! Come here and kneel wi' me! WHERE SHALL THE LOVER REST. The morn is fu' o' the presence o' God, And I canna pray without thee. The morn wind is sweet 'mang the beds o' new flowers, The wee birds sing kindlie and hie; Our gudeman leans owre his kale-yard dyke, And a blythe auld bodie is he. The Beuk maun be ta'en whan the carle comes hame, Wi' the holie psalmodie; And thou maun speak o' me to thy God, And I will speak o' thee. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. WHERE SHALL THE LOVER REST. WHERE shall the lover rest, Whom the fates sever, From his true maiden's breast Parted forever? Where, through groves deep and high, Sounds the far billow, Where early violets die, Under the willow. There, through the summer day, Cool streams are laving; There, while the tempests sway, Scarce are boughs waving; WHERE SHALL THE LOVER REST. There thy rest shalt thou take, Parted forever, Never again to wake, Never, O never! Where shall the traitor rest, He the deceiver, Who could win maiden's breast, Ruin and leave her? In the lost battle, Borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle With groans of the dying. Her wing shall the eagle flap His warm blood the wolf shall lap, Ere life be parted. Shame and dishonor sit By his grave ever! Blessing shall hallow it Never, O never! SIR WALTER SCOTT. PASSING THY DOOR. O! 'TWAS the world to me, Life too and more! So, in that moment brief, Trembled my heart. Nothing I saw but thee, Nothing could find; Vision had fled from me, Lingering behind. How I had passed along, How found my way, Sightless amidst the throng, Love could but say. How I had moved my feet I never knew ; I had seen nothing, sweet, Since I'd seen you. Life too- - and more! CHARLES SWAIN. |