WAKEN, LORDS AND LADIES GAY.

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

Waken, lords and ladies

gay,

On the mountain dawns the day;

All the jolly chase is here,

With hawk and horse and hunting spear.
Hounds are in their couples yelling,
Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling ;
Merrily, merrily, mingle they-

Waken, lords and ladies gay!

Waken, lords and ladies gay,

The mist has left the mountain gray;
Springlets in the dawn are steaming,
Diamonds on the brake are gleaming;
And foresters have busy been
To track the buck in thicket green:
Now we come to chant our lay-

Waken, lords and ladies gay!

Waken, lords and ladies

gay,

To the greenwood haste away:

We can show you where he lies

Fleet of foot and tall of size ;

We can show the marks he made

When 'gainst the oak his antlers frayed;
You shall see him brought to bay:

Waken, lords and ladies gay!

VOL. IV.

S

Louder, louder chant the lay,
Waken, lords and ladies gay!

Tell them, youth and mirth and glee
Run a course as well as we.

Time, stern huntsman! who can balk?
Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk:
Think of this, and rise with day,
Gentle lords and ladies gay.

MILES COLVINE.

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

O mariner, O mariner,

When will our gallant men
Make our cliffs and woodlands ring
With their homeward hail agen?

Full fifteen paced the stately deck,
And fifteen stood below,

And maidens waved them from the shore
With hands more white than snow;
All underneath them flash'd the wave,
The sun laugh'd out aboon-
Will they come bounding homeward

By the waning of yon moon?

O maid, the moon shines lovely down,
The stars all brightly burn,

And they may shine till doomsday comes,

Ere your true love return;

O'er his white forehead roll the waves,

The wind sighs lowne and low,

And the cry the sea-fowl uttereth
Is one of wail and woe;

So wail they on-I tell thee, maid,
One of thy tresses dark

Is worth all the souls who perish'd
In that good and gallant bark.

O mariner, O mariner,

It's whisper'd in the hall,

And sung upon the mountain side

Among our maidens all,

That the waves which fill the measure

Of that wide and fatal flood

Cannot cleanse the decks of thy good ship,

Or wash thy hands from blood;

And sailors meet, and shake their heads,
And, ere they sunder, say,
God keep us from Miles Colvine,
On the wide and watery way!

And up then spoke he, Miles Colvine,
His thigh thus smiting soon,

By all that's dark aneath the deep,

By all that's bright aboon,

By all that's blessed on the earth,

Or blessed on the flood,

And by my sharp and stalwart blade
That revel'd in their blood,

I could not spare them; for there came
My loved one's spirit nigh,

With a shriek of joy at every stroke

That doom'd her foes to die.

O mariner, O mariner,

There was a lovely dame

Went down with thee unto the deep,
And left her father's hame.-

His dark eyes, like a thunder cloud,
Did rain and lighten fast,

And, oh! his bold and martial face
All grimly grew and ghast :
I loved her, and those evil men

Wrong'd her as far we ranged;

But were ever woman's woes and wrongs More fearfully avenged?

THE BRAES OF BALLAHUN.

THOMAS CUNNINGHAM.

Now smiling summer's balmy breeze,
Soft whispering, fans the leafy trees:
The linnet greets the rosy morn,
Sweet in yon fragrant flowery thorn;
The bee hums round the woodbine bower,
Collecting sweets from every flower;
And pure the crystal streamlets run
Amongst the braes of Ballahun.

O blissful days, for ever fled,
When wand'ring wild as Fancy led,
I ranged the bushy bosom'd glen,
The scroggie shaw, the rugged linn,
And mark'd each blooming hawthorn bush,
Where nestling sat the speckled thrush;
Or careless roaming, wandered on,
Amongst the braes of Ballahun.

Why starts the tear, why bursts the sigh, When hills and dales rebound with joy? The flowery glen and lilied lea

In vain display their charms to me.

I joyless roam the heathy waste,

To soothe this sad, this troubled breast;