« PredošláPokračovať »
Then farewell Kelvin
bonnie lassie, O, And adieu to all I love, bonnie lassie, O,
To the river winding clear,
To the fragrant scented breer,
When upon a foreign shore, bonnie lassie, O,
Then, Helen! shouldst thou hear
Of thy lover on his bier,
In summer blooms the white moss-rose,
Pure, spotless, as the swan;
And fair, grew bonnie Ann!
When youth smiled round my yellow locks,
had stamp'd me man;
When near my lovely Ann!
Yes, weeping friends! when fell disease
Through all her vitals ran;
Beat high for bonnie Ann!
How angel-like the drooping maid,
With face all pale and wan,
Adieu! said bonnie Ann!
I call’d upon my love, and wept,
And gazed, till death began
And swoon'd on sainted Ann!
The struggle's o'er!-yon chesnut showers
His fragrance round the span,
O'er the grave of bonnie Ann.
The damsel who roams like a bee 'mongst the flowers,
And kills with her glances each youth flitting round, As she flaunts through the gala of morn's rosy hours, May be chill'd by detraction, where rivals abound:
Ruffled flowers court decay
Early blown—soon away-
Never more will yon maid,
Who now droops in the shade, Be cared for or courted by you for a wife.
SMILE THROUGH THY TEARS.
The debtor when stripp'd by some rogue of bis all,
'S turn'd adrift on the world, former friends seem his foes; While the caitiff who robb’d him, smiles over his fall, And fattens, though drench'd from the dunghill he rose!
Even those who were dear
When prosperity's ear Only heard of your worth, nor your foibles could trace
Revile, slight, and shun ye,
In misery dun ye, When the shorn-beams of favour glance cold in your face.
SMILE THROUGH THY TEARS.
Smile through thy tears, like the blush moss-rose,
When the warm rains fall around it;
And weep till the heart runs over;
That wails o'er the grave of a lover.
Smile through thy tears, like the pale primrose,
When the zephyrs play around it;
I will ward the sorrows that wound it.
· As warmed thy maiden bosom;
O'er the night-shade's drooping blossom.
232 WELLBURN'S MARY.-PRINCE CHARLIE.
I mark'd the calm on ber
fair face, As grief's rude storm passed o'er it; But the ebbing smile had left no trace
Of struggles that rush'd before it.
As the shower on April's blossom
Drinks the tears from its virgin bosom.
The flush o'er her fair face went and came,
As I show'd her a true-love token;
But her virgin heart was broken!
Eke the rose round the jessamine's twining;
Ere the red winter sun there was shining.
THOUGH bonnie raise the winter moon,
Frae England, o'er the border:
Their dinsom pibrochs' melody,
Wi' peril for his warder.
His diamond e'en, as black as 'sloes,
His teeth like ivory showing,
Beneath his bonnet flowing.
O mother! ye maun come an' see
Afore the morning early :-
Can bode sma' gude to Charlie.
The above Jacobite attempt was suggested after some conversation held with a poor woman, now in the 1020 year of her age. In the memorable 1745, when Charles was upon his retreat from England, he pitched his tents for two nights and a day in her neighbourhood; and the second stanza of the foregoing, describes the Chevalier's personal appearance, such as then had been impinged upon her mind, and from which description she never deviates. The fortunes of the prince, so far as they came within the scope of our centarian's observations, are sufficiently interesting, but without our province in this place.