"When you were gone he turned and died As merry as a bird.”

The old priest Peter Gilligan

He knelt him at that word:

"He who hath made the night of stars
For souls who tire and bleed,

Sent one of his great angels down
To help me in my need.

"He who is wrapped in purple robes,
With planets in his care,

Had pity on the least of things

Asleep upon a chair."

WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS.

A

THE SEVEN FIDDLERS

BLUE robe on their shoulder,

And an ivory bow in hand,

Seven fiddlers came with their fiddles
A-fiddling through the land,

And they fiddled a tune on their fiddles
That none could understand.

For none who heard their fiddling

Might keep his ten toes still:

E'en the cripple threw down his crutches,
And danced against his will;

Young and old they all fell a-dancing,
While the fiddlers fiddled their fill.

They fiddled down to the ferry

The ferry by Severn-side; And they stept aboard the ferry, None else to row or guide,

And deftly steered the pilot,

And stoutly the oars they plied.

Then suddenly in the mid-channel
These fiddlers ceased to row,
And the pilot spake to his fellows

In a tongue that none may know:-
"Let us home to our fathers and brothers,
And the maidens we love below."

Then the fiddlers seized their fiddles,
And sang to their fiddles a song:-
"We are coming, coming, O brothers,

To the home we have left so long;
For the world still loves the fiddler,
And the fiddler's tune is strong."

Then they stept from out the ferry
Into the Severn-sea,

Down into the depths of the waters

Where the homes of the fiddlers be,
And the ferry-boat drifted slowly
Forth to the ocean free!

But where those jolly fiddlers
Walked down into the deep,

The ripples are never quiet,

But for ever dance and leap,
Though the Severn-sea be silent,
And the winds be all asleep.

SEBASTIAN EVANS.

THE BALLAD OF THE BRIDES OF QUAIR

A

STILLNESS crept about the house,

At evenfall, in noontide glare;
Upon the silent hills looked forth

The many-windowed House of Quair.

The peacock on the terrace screamed;
Browsed on the lawn the timid hare;
The great trees grew i' the avenue,

Calm by the sheltered House of Quair.

The pool was still; around its brim
The alders sickened all the air;

There came no murmur from the streams,

Though nigh flowed Leithen, Tweed, and Quair.

The days hold on their wonted pace,

And men to court and camp repair,

Their part to fill, of good or ill,

While women keep the House of Quair.

And one is clad in widow's weeds,

And one is maiden-like and fair,

And day by day they seek the paths
About the lonely fields of Quair.

To see the trout leap in the streams,
The summer clouds reflected there,
The maiden loves in pensive dreams

To hang o'er silver Tweed and Quair.

Within, in pall-black velvet clad,

Sits stately in her oaken chair
A stately dame of ancient name—
The Mother of the House of Quair.

Her daughter broiders by her side,
With heavy, drooping golden hair,
And listens to her frequent plaint:-

"Il fare the Brides that come to Quair.

"For more than one hath lived in pine,
And more than one hath died of care,
And more than one hath sorely sinned,
Left lonely in the House of Quair.

"Alas! and ere thy father died

I had not in his heart a share, And now

may God forfend her ill.

Thy brother brings his Bride to Quair!"

She came: they kissed her in the hall,
They kissed her on the winding stair,

They led her to her chamber high,

The fairest in the House of Quair.

They bade her from the window look,
And mark the scene how passing fair,

Among whose ways the quiet days

Would linger o'er the wife of Quair.

«Tis fair,” she said on looking forth,

"But what although 'twere bleak and bare"

She looked the love she did not speak,
And broke the ancient curse of Quair

"Where'er he dwells, where'er he goes,
His dangers and his toils I share."
What need be said—she was not one
Of the ill-fated Brides of Quair!

ISA CRAIG KNOX.

GLENLOGIE

HREESCORE o' nobles rade up the king's ha',

TH

But bonnie Glenlogie's the flower of them a',

Wi' his milk-white steed and his bonny black e'e.

"Glenlogie, dear mither, Glenlogie for me!»

"O haud your tongue, daughter, ye'll get better than he.".

"O say nae sae, mither, for that canna be:

Though Doumlie is richer and greater than he,

Yet if I maun tak him, I'll certainly dee.—

"Where will I get a bonnie boy, to win hose and shoon, Will gae to Glenlogie, and come again soon?”—

"O here am I a bonnie boy, to win hose and shoon, Will gae to Glenlogie and come again soon.»

When he gaed to Glenlogie, 'twas "wash and go dine"; 'Twas "wash ye, my pretty boy, wash and go dine.». "O 'twas ne'er my father's fashion, and it ne'er shall be mine, To gar a lady's hasty errand wait till I dine;

"But there is, Glenlogie, a letter for thee."

The first line that he read, a low smile gave he;
The next line that he read, the tear blindit his e'e;
But the last line that he read, he gart the table flee.

"Gar saddle the black horse, gar saddle the brown;
Gar saddle the swiftest steed e'er rade frae a town:"
But lang ere the horse was drawn and brought to the green,
O bonnie Glenlogie was twa mile his lane.

When he came to Glenfeldy's door, little mirth was there;
Bonnie Jean's mother was tearing her hair:

"Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, ye're welcome," said she,
"Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, your Jeanie to see.”

Pale and wan was she when Glenlogie gaed ben,
But red and rosy grew she whene'er he sat down;

She turned awa' her head, but the smile was in her e'e:
"O binna feard, mither, I'll maybe no dee."

SCOTTISH MINSTRELSY.

BINNORIE

HERE were twa sisters sat in a bower; (Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

THER

A knight came there, a noble wooer,

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

He courted the eldest wi' glove and ring,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

But he lo'ed the youngest aboon a' thing—
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

The eldest she was vexèd sair,

(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

And sair envied her sister fair

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

Upon a morning fair and clear
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

She cried upon her sister dear,

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie:

"O sister, sister, tak' my hand,”

(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

"And let's go down to the river-strand,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie."

She's ta'en her by the lily hand,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

And down they went to the river-strand,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

The youngest stood upon a stane,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

The eldest cam' and pushed her in,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

"O sister, sister, reach your hand!"
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
"And ye sall be heir o' half my land".
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

"O sister, reach me but your glove!"
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

"And sweet William sall be your love "—
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

XXVIII-1059