I pressed them down the sod beneath; Frail as thy love, the flowers were dead Thomas L. Peacock. 366 BONNIE LADY ANN THERE'S kames o' hinney 'tween my luve's lips, An' gowd amang her hair; Her breasts are lapt in a holie veil, Nae mortal een keek there: What lips dare kiss, or what hand dare touch, Or what arm o' luve dare span, The hinney lips, the creamy loof, Or the waist o' Lady Ann! She kisses the lips o' her bonnie red rose, Wat wi' the blobs o' dew; But nae gentle lip, nor simple lip, Maun touch her lady mou; But a broider'd belt wi' a buckle o' gowd Her jimpy waist maun span O, she's an armfu' fit for heaven, My bonnie Lady Ann ! Her bower casement is latticed wi' flowers Tied up wi' silver thread, An' comely sits she in the midst Men's longing een to feed. She waves the ringlets frae her cheek Wi' her milky, milky han', An' her cheeks seem touch'd wi' the finger o' God, My bonnie Lady Ann! The morning cloud is tassel'd wi' gowd, Like my luve's broider'd cap; An' on the mantle which my love wears Her bonnie eebree 's a holie arch Cast by no earthlie han'; An' the breath o' God's atween the lips I am her father's gardener lad, My auld mither gets my wee, wee fee, My Lady comes, my Lady gaes Wi' a fou and kindly han' O, the blessing o' God maun mix wi' my luve, An' fa' on' Lady Ann! Allan Cunningham. 367 HAME, HAME, HAME HAME, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be, When the flower is i' the bud and the leaf is on the tree, The larks shall sing me hame in my ain countrie. Hame, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be, O, hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie! The green leaf o' loyaltie 's begun for to fa', O, there's naught frae ruin my country can save The great are now gane, a' wha ventured to save, Hame, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be, X Allan Cunningham. 368 THE CASTLED CRAG OF DRACHENFELS THE castled crag of Drachenfels Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, And peasant girls, with deep blue eyes, Through green leaves lift their walls of gray, Look o'er this vale of vintage-bowers; But one thing want these banks of Rhine,- I send the lilies given to me; Though long before thy hand they touch, The river nobly foams and flows, Could thy dear eyes in following mine Byron. 369 SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY SHE walks in beauty, like the night One shade the more, one ray the less, Or softly lightens o'er her face, And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, A mind at peace with all below, Byron. 370 FARE THEE WELL FARE thee well! and if for ever, 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. Would that breast were bared before thee Would that breast, by thee glanced over Then thou wouldst at last discover 'Twas not well to spurn it so. Though the world for this commend thee— Even its praises must offend thee, Though my many faults defaced me, Yet, O, yet thyself deceive not! Still thine own its life retaineth Still must mine, though bleeding, beat; And the undying thought which paineth Is-that we no more may meet! There are words of deeper sorrow And when thou wouldst solace gather, When her little hands shall press thee, Should her lineaments resemble All my faults perchance thou knowest, Every feeling hath been shaken : Pride, which not a world could bow, Bows to thee-by thee forsaken, Even my soul forsakes me now. |