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But other men our land will till,
A hundred years to come.
Come in the evening, or come in the morning;
I’ll pull you sweet flowers to wear if you choose
them, Or, after you've kissed them, they'll lie on my
bosom; I’ll fetch from the mountain its breeze to inspire
I’ll fetch from my fancy a tale that won't tire you.
Oh! yopr step's like the rain to the summer-vexed farmer,
Or sabre and shield to a knight without armor;
I’ll sing you sweet songs till the stars rise above Ime,
Then, wandering, I’ll wish you in silence to love Isle.
We'll look through the trees at the cliff and the eyrie; We'll tread round the rath on the track of the fairy; We’ll look on the stars and we’ll list to the river, Till you ask of your darling what gift you can
give her. Oh! she'll whisper you, -“Love as unchangeably beaming, And trust, when in secret most tunefully streamIng
Till the starlight of heaven above us shall quiver, As our souls flow in one down eternity's river.”
So come in the evening, or come in the morning; Come when you’re looked for, or come without warning;
Kisses and welcome you'll find here before you,
And the oftener you come, the more I'll adore you!
Light is my heart since the day we were plighted;
Red is my cheek that they told me was blighted;
The green of the trees looks far greener than ever,
And the linnets are singing, “True lovers don't Sever!”
Would God I were that tender apple-blossom,
To lie and faint within your silken bosom,
Or would I were a little burnished apple
Yea, would to God I were among the roses
While on the lowest branch a bud unclosea
Nay, since you will not love, would I were grow-
WHERE SHALL THE LOVER REST? SIR WALTER SCOTT.
Where shall the lover rest
There, through the summer day
There, while the tempests sway,
There thy rest shalt thou take,
Where shall the traitor rest,
Her wing shall the eagle flap