Farewell for aye: a salt tear dims The eye, that never wept before; And now we part to meet no more! Our lay of joy is past and gone, Of mirth, high dames and lords among: Here on this oak that bourgeons fair, I'll hang thy wires of witching tone; The passing breeze will cause them moan, And swell my requiem when I'm gone. The traveller faint will list'ning stare, And marvel whence thy sounds proceed, The fairy king in buxom weed, Will leave his dance to hear thy rede. But chief of all, the love-lorn maid, When dusky twilight clouds the sky, Eluding watchful guardian's eye Towards this sacred spot will hie. Beneath thy oaks embow'ring shade She'll muse, and count each straggling ray The moon sheds on its lovely way, Along thy frame of silvery grey. She'll hear thee woo'd by wandering gale, Oh! she will hear thee oft bewail How many an evil tide befell Maids, who have lov'd but all too well. The steel-clad knight as home he wends, Will pause, and check his courser's fire, For, lo! thy song of triumph blends O Harp! be still a little while, Now, take with thee his last faint smile, And benison, in death's arms given, INDEX. A coggie o' ale, and a pickle ait meal Adown the green dell, near the Abbey's remains Again rejoicing nature sees Again the happy day returns Ah! Mary, sweetest maid, farewell All white hang the bushes o'er Elaw's sweet stream Amid Loch-Caterine's scenery wild Beyond Busaco's mountains dun Blow on, ye wild winds, o'er his hallowed Blythely I hae screwed my pipes By the side of a mountain, o'ershadowed with trees Can a crown give content note 218 Claudine liv'd contented and peace was her lot Fair dream of my slumber, sad thoughts of my waking Farewell, oh sweet hope! I have wept thee in sadness · note From his booth on the hill, the sad shepherd retires Moore M. A. R. Robt. Glassford 175 J. Findlay Ramsay Tannahill From "Paul's Letters" 431 note E. Waller note Gott. Aug. Burder 440 Have you not seen the timid tear Have you sailed on the breast of the deep Her hair was like the Cromla mist Her kiss was soft and sweet Here's to them that's awa note Here's to thy health, my bonny lass I come in the morn, I come in the hour · note If that the world and love were young note note I have known what it was to be happy and gay Moore Blackwood's Mag. 392 Sir W. Raleigh 415 R. Allan John Sim In vain thou call'st for a mirthful smile Isabelle! Isabelle! hark to my soft lute W. Reader I saw from the beach when the morning was shining, Moore I saw thy form in youthful prime Is there a man whose breast ne'er glow'd It was Dunois, the young and brave, was bound for Palestine Byron note Fanny De Beauharnois 361 I've no sheep on the mountains, nor boat on the lake note note Keen and cold is the blast loudly whistling around Let every valiant son of Gaul Let high Benledi rear its tap Let us go, lassie, go note Marquis de Paulmy 248 Let us haste to Kelvin grove, bonnie lassie, O, Mark'd you her eye of heavenly blue Mary, why thus waste thy youth-time in sorrow May heaven holpe the Mayde Mine be a cot beside the hill Money maks us bonny My bonny black meer's dead My father and mother now lie with the dead My friend is the man I would copy thro' life My dying Sire, in battle slain |